Tumgik
#Women behind the lens
518td · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
emonight 🫶🏻
69 notes · View notes
freeadmission · 21 days
Text
Mya, seaside editorial published in Selin magazine.
Mya and her Mom met me in front of my apartment and we walked down to the second beach to shoot.
I was carrying my gear and the wardrobe and we chatted as we walked.
We found a place that was sheltered from the wind and alternated in changing in the washroom and sometimes on the beach. Mya’s mom was a wonderful help and kept an eye on the gear while we moved around the beach hiding from the wind and finding a shady spot from the sun.
I sent the images to the agency for selection and then I sent my favourites out for publication. I wanted to surprise Mya and the agency and I did. This spread, Mya, seaside was published in Selin Magazine Issue 39 Volume 32 and you can get a copy here.
0 notes
Text
Tumblr media
5 January 2023
Film: BLACK WOMEN BEHIND THE LENS (Creating a Different Image: Black Women’s Filmmaking of the 1970s-90s) (d. various)
Forum: Film Studies Center  Format: 16mm and digital
Observations: This screening was the kickoff of a nine-week class about pioneering Black women directors, taking its inspiration from the 1976 Sojourner Truth Festival of the Arts, believed to be the first-ever Black women's film festival. Professor Allyson Nadia Field introduced the program, and each week a different student will co-present. House was more than half-full, by a show of hands mostly students registered in the class. The titles in this program, stretching back to the 1950s, are for the most part little-known and difficult to locate even on the internet (prints/files from the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture; the Black Film Center & Archive, Indiana University, Bloomington, Indiana; and Medgar Evers College (CUNY) Library Archives). If the rest of the program is as strong as the opening night, this will be essential viewing for the rest of the winter.
1 note · View note
Text
Book Review: Double Exposure by Jeannée Sacken
Book Review: Double Exposure by Jeannée Sacken
Author Jeannée Sacken draws upon her experience as an international photojournalist to heighten reality in Double Exposure, the sequel to Behind the Lens. Annie Hawkins Green is a veteran photojournalist embedded during wars around the world. She’s dropped her married name and now goes by simply Annie Hawkins. She returns to Afghanistan to try to rebuild the school her best friend started and…
Tumblr media
View On WordPress
0 notes
cordeliawhohung · 2 months
Text
ghoap x reader pet!au where simon keeps johnny as a pet, but can't keep up with his high sex drive and antics. in order to satiate him, simon decides to go looking for another pet to keep the silly pup entertained. sort of an introductory work bound to become a series of one shots like my mafia!au
cw: simon is a freak, non-con photography, a little dark content, nsfw, slight bdsm dynamics, owner/pet dynamics
Tumblr media
Simon wasn’t a photographer, not a good one anyway, but he wasn’t to blame. His large hands were better fit for shredding meat than creating art, but he figured all art was good when the muses were beautiful. 
He had been on the hunt for nearly three hours by that point, wandering throughout the city where the population was thickest. Armed with nothing but his phone, Simon captured photos of various specimens that meandered throughout the streets as they went about their lives. There were roughly twenty pictures he had saved in his gallery of unsuspecting women he figured would be Johnny’s type. Pretty blondes in flowery dresses, alluring doe eyes looking out at the streets; he stole photos of any soft and sweet thing that he figured Johnny would have fun sinking his teeth into. 
A black mask and dark clothes wasn’t the most unsuspecting thing for him to wear on such an outing, yet it was to his advantage at the same time. Several women had caught the slight glint of the camera lens on his phone as he stole eternal glimpses of them. Many of them had even opened their mouths to protest his intrusion, until they looked at him, anyway. Not many people had the bravery or fortitude needed to stand up to a creature as wild and brutish as him. Their mouths shut with such promptness he nearly chuckled at how bashful they were. 
Hunting got more difficult as the sky grew darker. Fresh meat hid behind locked doors that Simon could have easily torn down if he had so desired, but that wasn’t the time. As the lights started to illuminate the street, he dived down into the depths underneath London where tunnels spanned for miles, spider-webbing just below the skin of the city. The stench underground grew more acrid the further he pushed and Simon couldn’t help but huff at it. This was why he enjoyed living out of town, off in some secluded home nestled in the cold embrace of trees and lavish fields. 
Made it harder for his pet to wander off, too. 
The sharp clicking of heels caught his attention as he waited just beyond the yellow line on the platform. Dark eyes flickered to the newest prey that approached, and Simon found himself drinking in the sight of her. Proper clothes covered her body with a simple blouse and a pencil skirt. Dark tights covered the expanse of her legs with its sheer fabric where it was beautifully topped off by a classic pair of heels. The sway of her hips was dramatized by the steps she traversed, her pace slow and careful lest she roll an ankle walking in those heels. 
She was dressed professionally, and if Simon had to guess it was for an interview. By the look on her face, it didn’t go very well. Distracted eyes stared down at the phone in her hand as her lips pressed into a frown. Anxious fingers tapped away as she typed out a message to someone — perhaps a lover? Someone would be crazy not to snatch up a specimen such as that — as she stepped down onto the platform. 
Before she could get too close, Simon quickly dug his phone out before stealing a photo of her. He had gotten so used to the motions he didn’t even have to think about it; not that it was difficult anyway. With her attention still focused elsewhere, he found he was able to snap a few more before she finally put her phone into her bag and began to pay mind to where she walked. She continued further into the platform, well past Simon, and vanished into the crowd as if she had never been there at all. 
Cute. 
It didn’t take long for the tube to take Simon to his stop, and it was even shorter before he seated himself in his car to head back home. The drive itself was the longest part of everything. Annoying traffic, bad drivers; he didn’t feel like he could untense his body until he approached the familiar sight of home. The old and dilapidated building wasn’t much more than an heirloom passed down in the Riley family, but it had quickly become his sanctuary. Seclusion meant he was safe. Seclusion meant he could love in peace.
Warm lights poured through the sheer curtains that covered the windows and were only disturbed by a figure pacing around just beyond them. Simon’s car died off with a sputter as he pocketed his keys before approaching the door. A thick deadbolt kept the house latched tight and secure, though he was confident Johnny knew better than to attempt to dash out by that point. Especially not that day when he had the prospect of such a good treat. 
Johnny was there to greet him at the door with a toothy grin, and the damn pup nearly knocked Simon over as he bounded up to him. His hands pawed at Simon’s chest as if he couldn’t get enough of him, and he didn’t calm down until the man grabbed hold of the collar around his throat. Blue eyes widened as he looked up at his owner, lips twitching with all the words he wanted to exclaim.
“Down,” Simon warned. 
“Did ya get the pictures? Like you said you would?” Johnny questioned, his body still unable to retain his buzzing excitement. 
Instead of answering him verbally, Simon gave a sharp tug on his collar before directing him further into the house. Ancient wood floorboards creaked underneath their weight as they entered the living room. It was devoid of all decor, unless cracks in the paint could be considered art. A rusted lamp was the sole source of light in the room, and the only thing even worth looking at was the glorious stone fireplace that sat against the far wall, but it was much too warm out to light. 
Simon pulled Johnny down onto the old sofa next to him, and the man instantly burrowed into his side, eagerly waiting to see the pretty pups. The phone screen illuminated both of their faces in sync as it blossomed to life, and Johnny almost salivated at just the prospect of what he would see. It didn’t take Simon long to pull up his gallery, and he scrolled to the first photos he had taken that day before angling it so that his excited pup could see it too. Twitching fingers reached out to swipe along the screen, and Simon watched as Johnny’s eyes dilated at every piece of meat he looked at. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he shifted on the couch, and all it took was a simple glance to see how worked up the poor pup was. A hardened bulge strained against the zipper of his jeans, and a groan reverberated in his throat as he continued to swipe through the countless choices put in front of him. 
“Si, they’re all so beautiful. Can’t I have them all?” Johnny whined. 
“Only one,” Simon countered. 
“I’ll be good,” Johnny said with a pout. 
“Just one, Johnny,” Simon repeated, voice more firm. 
Sighing, he continued to swipe through Simon’s phone as his eyes glossed over beautiful legs and delicious hips. It had been so long since he had last seen a woman it was nearly impossible to hold himself back. His body craved them in a way he couldn’t put into words, and he felt like the only thing that would offer him solace would be to burst out of his skin. 
His restless buzzing suddenly ceased when he caught sight of the last group of photos in the gallery. A beautiful woman had him utterly transfixed as she appeared to have descended down a long set of concrete steps. There was something about the troubled look on her face that had his mouth watering. Like he knew he would be able to fix it. Like he could bully the worry out of her with his cock alone. 
“This one,” Johnny said, his decision definite as he held the phone up for Simon to see. “I want this one.” 
858 notes · View notes
lunamugetsu · 2 months
Text
House Husband Danny
(Remember this post I made: Danny is a househusband. Well I decided to make it into a story) Crossposted from AO3. Here's a link
Location: Unknown, Date: Unknown
Three figures emerged from a glowing pit of green water, gasping for air as they dragged themselves out.
A man with dark skin was breathing heavily and went to shake the pale man with dark hair that was still unconscious. He paused as another hand was raised motioning for him to stop. He looked over at the women with long black hair.
“He’s tired, let him rest.” She said
“What are we going to do?” the woman merely smiled as she turned to fix the damp hair that was covering the unconscious man’s face.
“Simple… Danny will rest and heal…and we will live like the rulers we are.” She turned to look at her other partner.
“Yes… we will,” he confirmed as they both smiled while looking at their love.
Present Day
Danny hummed as he put away the newly washed dishes from dinner.
Ah, how nice it was to be in a home where the food didn’t come alive and try to declare war on him.
One less thing to worry about.
Now that dinner was eaten and leftovers were put away. He could focus on the package that came in the mail, he had been waiting for it for weeks.
Tucker and Sam had called ahead to say that they were working late.
What a shame.
Danny sat down in the living room and turned on the tv while cracking open the package.
“This is Lois Lane reporting for the Daily Planet! Breaking news as the Justice League members Superman and Wonder Woman are fighting off villains in Metropolis! They have been identified as the new villains: Upload and Nightshade. They made their first appearance known to the world a couple months ago- JIMMY LOOK OUT!”
The camera shook for a moment before stabilizing showing Superman was holding onto Lois Lane and Wonder Woman was holding onto the cameraman.
“It’s not safe here, please evacuate to a safer area.” Superman said before speeding off with Wonder Woman following close behind.
“Jimmy get a shot! That’s Nightshade!” the reporter said pointing to a large plant-like monster made of vines and thorns that was the size of a skyscraper. The cameraman zoomed in on the figure that was currently sitting on the monster’s shoulder. A woman with long black hair that appeared as if it was almost floating in an ethereal manner. She was a pale woman wearing a black skintight bodysuit with matching thigh high boots, black bandages were wrapped around her forearms while her hands lit up with a neon green energy along with her eyes. Nightshade smiled, turning to look straight into the direction of the camera before saying some words that the camera couldn’t pick up before humongous vines started filling up the camera’s screen, the sound of screaming could be heard before the feed was cut.
“That doesn’t look good,” Danny commented before turning back to the open package.
Ooh, that fabric did feel as soft as it was advertised! He better try it on to see it fit. He knew he checked the measurements before placing the order but still, mistakes always happened. He was also still a little hungry, perhaps some fruit from the fridge would be good.
It was a couple of minutes before the for the news to come back on. Danny sat down on the couch, sporting a plate of fruit with a side of whipped cream to dip it in. He plopped one into his mouth as the tv started airing the news again.
The camera lens managed to stay undamaged as the camera man and the reporter were taking cover behind the corner of a building focusing on the figure that was currently standing in front of a fallen Superman that was grimacing as the green light from the glowing rock in the figure’s gloved hand seemed to intensify. It also didn’t help that there appeared to be a set of special cuffs that were encasing the superheroes hands, forcing them together.
“And here I was thinking that defeating you couldn’t be that easy… well then again. Can’t expect a superhero to just not react to their greatest weakness. Kryptonite wasn’t really hard to track down who had a stash of these, it was even easier to take it. ” The figure was a man with dark skin with long dreadlocks and was wearing a visor that covered hi eyes from view. He wore a long coat with short sleeves letting people see the robotic gloves that went up all the way up his arms. The camera picked up a hum emanating from the robotic arms and crack of electricity.
“Why? Why are you doing this, Upload?” Superman said as he made to force himself to stand despite his bound hands.
“Hmm, wealth, fame, power, pettiness, destroying all the buildings I want without needing to pay for it, or maybe I just don’t like people who call themselves heroes,” Upload said as he moved to the side as Wonder Woman was thrown into a building.
“Truly, I thought they’d give more of a challenge,” Nightshade commented as the plant-monster then slammed a hand down onto Wonder Woman encasing the superhero in vines  making it practically impossible for the woman to rip out of.
Danny hummed as he looked at the news.
He should probably help… he stuck a strawberry into his mouth.
“How do you think we should do this, Nightshade? Slowly and methodical, or fast and exciting?” Upload turned to look at Nightshade.
“Obviously, something with mo-“
RING! RING! RING!
The two supervillains looked towards each other. Upload taking out a phone from his pocket while Nightshade motioned for the plant monster to give her, her bag so she could take out her phone.
“Hello/Hello.” Thy said answering their phone in unison.
“You’re hungry?” Nightshade asked.
“We did say we were working late, you’re welcome to eat out if you want- huh? I mean, what are you wearing?” Upload said
The two paused and looked at each other.
“The thing you ordered a couple weeks ago?” Upload said, “the red one?”
“That’s made with silk?” Nightshade hands were clenching down onto her phone.
“And you’re eating,” Upload looked over at Nightshade.
“Strawberries and whipped cream,” She said.
Ding! Ding!
The two turned to their phone at having received a message. The villains looked at their phone  and then to each other.
“We’ll be there in ten!” they said in unison before putting away their phones.
It happened quickly.
With a wave her hand, all of the plants started retreating back away from the superheroes while saying some words that the camera couldn ’t pick up and a portal opened right next to her.
Meanwhile Upload placed the kryptonite into a contain while hitting some buttons that were on his gloves and the cuffs that were on Superman unlocked and fell off the man ’s wrists.
Nightshade motioned for the now human-sized plant monster to walk through the portal while Upload was walking up to her.
“Wait! Where do you think you’re goin-” Wonder Woman and Superman held their ears as a loud sound echoed out a tool that Upload threw on the ground.
“Oh no! How dare you heroes foil our evil plan!” Nightshade said in a dead tone before grabbing Upload by his collar, “c’mon we gotta go!”
The two ran into the portal, disappearing out of sight, leaving nothing but the aftermath of the destruction of the fight they had with the two heroes.
“I’m sorry, what the heck just happened?!” Lois Lane said, turning to look at the camera.
Danny hummed as he turned off the tv and took his plate of food with him as he got off the couch.
He needed to get upstairs, after all, Sam and Tucker weren’t going to be working late after all.
The man sat himself into the master bedroom, it had a bed that was an Alaskan King size. Largest size of bed they could find, could easily fit a whole family of four on it. He didn’t even know beds came in that size.
Danny continued humming as he settled himself down in the middle of the bed. The sheets were made of Egyptian cotton. Ethically sourced, of course. Sam wouldn’t stand sleeping on something that was made by a company that destroyed the environment while simultaneously overworking and underpaying their employees. Tucker had come to the rescue, buying a set of sheets on his last trip from Egypt. They had to custom order it especially since their bed didn’t fit the common dimensions that mass production usually went by.
But he wasn’t complaining, the bed was really… nice.
He laid back against the pillows, wearing nothing but the little red number that came in the mail that day.
He dipped a strawberry into the whipped cream and took a bite out of it. Giving a hum as he enjoyed the taste. It was so nice not to have to worry about anything. No ghosts trying to kill him, no government agency trying to track him down to vivisect and kill him, no parents trying to shoot, vivisect, and kill him- Danny wondered if that was a normal amount of people to have to want to kill him.
Whatever, it didn’t matter anymore.
He smiled as he heard the sound of the front door being slammed open and shut followed by a furious pattering sound of feet going up the stairs. He hoped they’d taken their shoes off when they got in. He just vacuumed the house that afternoon.
The door to the bedroom opened with a bang as he saw Sam and Tucker, wearing their civilian clothing that they had clearly just thrown on with no thought of whether or not they should straighten out any of the clothes or at least to check if they put on their shirt inside out. It was a rule though, never bring work home, it always brought trouble. They had enough trouble dealing with ghosts to last a lifetime, let alone the afterlife.
“I’m hungry,” Danny said while taking  a bite of a strawberry and licking off cream that caught on his lip. He could see them already looking at his mouth and trailing their eyes across the new article of clothing he was wearing.. The man curled his finger to motion for them to come closer.
“Come and feed me.” He smiled as his partners joined him in bed.
Ah, it was so nice when his partners didn’t work late nights.
723 notes · View notes
vivwritescrappythings · 3 months
Text
Unfair
no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader
an au about Joel attending a wedding simply inspired by Pedro's slutty little fit at the SAG awards.
part 2
tw: age gap (late 20s/late 40s), fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, alcohol, she/her pronouns, reader has hair long enough to twist around her finger, Joel is probably poorly written in this, and this whole thing is a little poorly written.
word count: 7.2k
MDNI
masterlist
Your mom was smiling as you zipped her into her gown, the chiffon and lace dress gorgeous on her as you fastened the eyelet closed at the top of the bodice. You could feel the lens of the photographer’s camera trained on you both, the woman having been with you the entire morning to document the process of the bridal party getting ready. 
The photographer was fluttering around the room, taking candid photos of you all making small talk and toasting mimosas. The posed photos had been earlier that morning, you all wearing your matching silk robes with your names screen-printed on the back. You didn’t know how much had been spent on the whole production–but it certainly wasn’t cheap. But, to see your mom glowing and her wide smile all morning, every penny must have been more than worth it.
Before you realized, you all wore dresses and bouquets of white flowers with magnificent greenery were being thrust in your hands. The wedding planner was ushering everyone out onto the stone walkway to the barn, women finally meeting men just outside the farmhouse turned wedding venue. The best man looked vaguely familiar to you as you placed your hand in the crook of his elbow to walk down the aisle, he must have been Shawn's eldest brother.
The officiant droned: he just repeated the same platitudes of what it means to love one another and be good spouses. You tried to stay focused, your eyes inevitably wandering. The ceremony space was picturesque: southern live oaks casting shadows in the late autumn sun as they married in front of the barn. It really couldn’t get more Texas than that, especially when you counted the number of cowboy hats in the crowd. 
You could feel someone staring at you for the better part of the ceremony, making you glance out of the corner of your eye as you tried to find the source. Every fiber of you wanted to turn and look in earnest, but you knew that you’d ruin the photos as soon as your body twisted and your happy, grinning face wasn’t facing the bride and groom on the best day of their lives. 
Your grip tightened around the bouquet in your hands as your skin crawled, your focus so jarred that you almost missed your cue to walk out. The cheers and clapping woke you from your reverie before the best man had to. Grasping him by the elbow, you walked back up the aisle between the celebrating wedding guests, the feeling of being watched now fading to the background.
When you finally made it to the renovated barn, you were starving and in desperate need of a drink. The photos had run long, the photographers getting you all in a variety of line ups and poses. It was almost time for the plated dinner to begin, guests settling at assigned tables after a cocktail hour and the live band playing quiet music in the corner of the half-inside half-outside space that would eventually serve as the dance floor.
The orange lighting from string lights along the ceiling was soft, mismatched Edison bulbs hanging along zigzagged wires from wooden rafters. It painted the guests and decor in gold tones, making everything look sepia like an old photo.
With your double shot vodka tonic in hand, you found your name written in gold calligraphy on the seating chart. Your mom and her new husband were sitting together at a small table at the front of the room, a faux-neon sign behind them that displayed his last name. Well, their last name now. 
You were at one of the front tables, the ivory table cloth nearly brushing the shiny wooden floor as you plucked your name card off your plate and sat down. There were only a few people you knew at the wedding, neighbors from the neighborhood you grew up in and a handful of your mother’s coworkers. But, they were seated elsewhere. 
Some of the seats on the opposite side of the sprawling white and green centerpiece were occupied with strangers in flamboyant cowboy hats and boots, an obvious sign they were from out of town. You smiled politely as you sat down, taking a long sip of your drink as you checked your phone for the moment of downtime. 
“This seat taken?” A deep, twangy voice made your gaze cut away from the screen and up to the right. You were immediately dumbstruck by how handsome the man was, his umber colored eyes reminding you of the sunlight hitting the tree trunks during the ceremony. A few of his dark brown curls were falling on his tanned forehead, the rest of his hair loosely pushed back. 
You floundered for a moment, lips parting and no words coming out of your mouth. Finally you caught up, blinking a few times. The place card in front of the ornate gold and white place setting next to yours was your saving grace. “Well, uh, if you’re Joel M., the seat is all yours,” you said, looking back up at him.
God, you hoped he was Joel.
He smiled, the lines on his face becoming a bit more defined as he extended a hand toward you. “Joel Miller, nice to meet you…” he trailed off, waiting for your assistance. 
You slipped your hand into his, his calloused palm engulfing yours as he shook it politely. You introduced yourself, neck craned back so you could look him in the eye. He released your hand and sat down, setting the glass he was holding next to yours on the table cloth. 
“So how do you know the couple?” Joel asked you, his gaze dragging over you. You tried not to squirm under the weight of it, your face feeling hot as you set your phone face-down on the table. The way he looked at you made you feel like a bug caught under a microscope.
“The bride is my mom,” you said, fiddling with the elegantly folded cloth napkins for a moment. You glanced at her briefly, watching her giggle at something Shawn had said. 
Joel nodded, a huff of a laugh following. “No shit, so you’re the stepdaughter?” he asked, an eyebrow raised as a smirk lifted the corner of his lip. One of your eyebrows lifted of its own volition, his reaction catching you off guard.
“Do I have a reputation?” A sip of your drink helped wet your dry tongue, your eyes trained on him over the rim of your glass. There was a spike of anxiety in your chest, the temporary fear that he’d heard something bad about you filling your mind. You held your glass in your hand as you crossed your legs at the ankle, waiting for his response.
Joel paused to take a drink, a hand scrubbing over his beard as he looked back at you. He shook his head, waving a hand in a way that was meant to be placating. “Shawn told me about you, said you just moved back to town a few months ago.” 
“Um, yeah, actually. Moved back from Denver,” you said, bashful that the subject of you even came up. You hadn’t realized that you were important enough in Shawn’s life to mention, especially to his friends. Of course, there wasn’t animosity between the two of you, just what you assumed was limited interest. Most men didn't bother to learn too much about their adult stepchildren.
You were both leaning forward as you spoke, the music and chatter of the other guests making the barn a little too loud to hear one another clearly at a distance. He was looking down at his drink, giving you an opportunity to study his profile. Joel was easily twenty years your senior, the dark beard on his jawline threaded through with patches of silver hair. 
“So—“ Joel started, getting cut off by the shuffle of the last people to their seats and an arm thrust between the two of you. The waiters serving the plated dinner made you sit upright in your chair, the soft fabric of your dress fluttering as you put some space between Joel and yourself. 
You didn’t realize how hungry you were until you took the first bite of your food, a sigh escaping you as your eyelashes batted against your cheeks. Conversation floated around your head, you caught polite questions about Joel’s construction business and half-assed replies.
For some reason your mother had put you at a table full of Shawn’s friends, maybe in an attempt to help you get to know him better.
“So you’re a contractor?” you asked after your hunger had been satiated. You’d gotten a refill on your drink from one of the waiters, nursing a fresh vodka tonic as you looked at Joel.
He chewed his steak methodically, nodding as he turned slightly to look at you. “Been building houses for years, my brother, Tommy, works with me,” Joel said after he swallowed, taking his cloth napkin off his wide thigh to wipe the corner of his mouth. 
“Do you like it?” you asked after a moment of contemplation, tilting your head to one side as you looked at him.
There was something about him that kept you smiling, your lips curved like a bow as you sipped your drink from the straw. You studied his features while you could, his aquiline nose and his full lower lip intriguing. Way too intriguing for someone who was your stepfather’s friend.
“Pays the bills, keeps the roof over me and Sarah’s heads.” Joel finished his plate, picking up his drink and leaning back in his seat. 
Sarah? Your eyes dropped to his left hand, not seeing a ring on any of the fingers. Not even a tan line. He noticed it, making your face burn as he chuckled. “Sarah? Your…”
“Daughter,” he cut in helpfully. Daughter, he had a daughter. You exhaled, relieved. But, did he have a wife? No ring, never mentioned her. He would’ve brought her up by now. She would've attended the wedding with him. You chewed the inside of your cheek for a moment, taking a breath as you rationalized.  
Your mouth opened to ask another question when glasses were chimed and dinner was cleared away. Champagne flutes were passed around, and to your horror you realized it was time for your toast. You stood in a fluid motion, adjusting your gown and your hair before heading toward the microphone next to the table with the bride and groom.
You spent the rest of the night getting drunk. Champagne became cocktails and cocktails became shots–all with your mother and new stepfather and family and friends from your childhood. Tipsiness made you remove your heels, kicking them off to the side to a forgotten corner as your aching feet pressed against the polished floor. 
The dance floor was cramped, the band having transitioned partway through the night to someone’s phone with a playlist hooked up to the speakers. You watched your mom laugh as she was spun around by her new husband, making you smile as you nursed your glass of wine. 
“You lost something.” Joel approached, pointing to your strappy heels with a lazy finger. 
You grinned, your teeth digging into your lower lip for a moment as you looked up at him. “Looks like you did, too–a few things actually,” you said, nodding toward his shucked suit jacket and tie. The top few buttons of his white shirt were open, revealing just enough of his tanned chest to feel dangerous. He was more disheveled than before, a chilled beer bottle held loosely in his fingers and his cheeks flushed.
Joel chuckled, taking a step closer to you as he took a long drink from his beer. You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed, taking a sip of your red wine in tandem.
There was something about this man that had you all kinds of flustered, a giddy lightness in your chest when he focused his attention on you. “So why aren’t you out there dancing?” Joel asked, his warm eyes surveying the dance floor before returning.
You shook your head, a demure smile and a shrug. “Never was much of a dancer.” The last time you really danced was wasted at a frat party in college, the lights low and the music making the house shake. Far from a respectable barn wedding, and definitely not your mother’s respectable barn wedding. 
“That’s a shame,” Joel smiled at you, pressing just a bit closer, “a pretty girl like you should be out there.” 
You were surprised by the compliment, nearly choking on your wine as your eyebrows lifted. Joel was smirking, his whole body leaning toward yours. You were warm to the touch, your entire face burning under his attentions. It felt like you were in high school again, pining after some older boy that you assumed would never look at you twice–but here he was, looking.
“Do you always flirt with your friend’s stepdaughters?” you asked, hoping to come off as hard to get. Realistically, he already had you in the palm of his hand.
Joel pursed his lips, something mischievous flashing in his dark eyes for a moment. “Just the ones that look like you,” he said, his deep voice low. It was almost too quiet to hear over the music, making you shift forward so you could hear him better.
“Joel.” It would've been chastising if it wasn’t for your bright smile. He exuded an easy confidence that was magnetic, it had your nerves on fire as you selfishly hoped that he would do more than just flirt with you. Your gaze was on his lips for a moment, taking in the lines of his full bottom lip and tidy mustache before meeting his eyes again.
“The couple is getting ready to leave!” You both looked toward the door and watched the wedding planner usher guests out the barn doors. Sparklers were thrust in everyone’s hands, the photographer already positioned at the end of the walkway near the rented white Rolls Royce.
Joel’s hand found the small of your back, warm through the thin fabric of your dress as he guided you toward the door. The wedding planner handed him two sparklers, the long kind that wobbled under their own weight. 
The guests had divided into two lines, waiters lighting sparklers on either side of the column created. Joel handed you one as you stood at his side, your bare feet on the warm concrete. You held it out from your body, focused on the bright sizzle of the sparks as they made their way down the lines of powder.
Your mother and Shawn walked through the column of sparklers on cue, laughing and smiling while holding hands. They looked so happy. You could hardly imagine being that happy with someone.
She broke off for a moment to embrace you, making Joel thoughtfully pluck the sparkler out of your fingers so you didn’t burn her. 
Tears pushed at your eyelids, overwhelming joy for your mother finally breaking free of your chest. You whispered ‘I love you’s into one another’s ears and pressed kisses to cheeks as you clung to each other. The photographer’s camera was shuttering nearby, catching every intimate moment.
Finally you let her go, tearful and smiling as Shawn pulled her toward the car that would take them to their hotel. Joel’s large hand found the curve of your waist, bringing you to his side as you watched your mother get into the car. 
You were tipsy enough to allow it.
He was warm, smelling like cigar smoke and whiskey and cologne. You both were quiet as you watched the car pull away, your shoulders fitting in the space between his arm and torso.
“You wanna help me find my jacket? Think I left it around back when I was smoking a cigar with Shawn,” Joel murmured into your hair. His fingers pressed into your waist, his breath on your neck.
It was enough to distract you. You blinked your tears away, fingertips brushing at the corners of your eyes to make sure your makeup was still intact. “Sure,” you whispered, looking up at him after you’d composed yourself.
Your heart skipped a beat when Joel took your hand, tugging you along with him down the path on the outside of the barn. Both of you were tipsy, giggling and stumbling a bit over the paving stones that had been set in the tall grass. The lights faded behind you, the dim glow through the high windows of the barn and the solitary strand of Edison bulbs between the trees just enough to navigate by. 
It all happened so fast, you didn’t even know who initiated it. Joel’s calloused hands were cupping your cheeks and jaw, tilting your head up as your lips met his. He tasted like whiskey and the sweet wedding cake, making you sigh into the kiss as your fingers twisted in his shirt and pulled him close. 
You had to stand on your tip toes to kiss him properly, a few soft laughs escaping the both of you when the hard cartilage of your noses bumped and teeth clashed. 
He took steps forward until your shoulder blades pressed against the side of the barn. Joel crowded you in, one hand leaving your cheek to brace against the wood behind your waist as he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip. You could feel him smiling.
You always found French kissing to be weird, never knowing quite what to do with your tongue. Whenever a guy had initiated it you managed to cut it off quickly, moving on to some other method of making out to spare yourself the embarrassment of letting your tongue sit there like a dead fish.
Of course you’d seen people do it, always seeming like a lot more licking each other than kissing. Nevertheless, the second time Joel ran his tongue along the seam of your lips you found yourself parting them for him.
Suddenly, you understood. Joel’s tongue massaged over yours as he groaned softly. You wanted him to consume you, letting him take control as he explored your mouth. He tilted your head back more, leaning over you with his full height. You flicked your tongue along his, spine arching toward him in an attempt to get closer.
The horn of the hotel shuttle startled you as you broke apart, chests heaving and your lipstick smeared onto Joel’s mouth. 
“You staying at the same hotel as everyone else?” Joel asked, nosing at your hairline as his hands roamed over your dress. He bunched it in his fists, raising the hem above your calves and wrinkling the fabric.
“I am,” you breathed, twisting your fingers in his thick curls. 
Joel smiled against your earlobe, nipping at it. “Wanna continue this in my room? Got a king size bed and everything,” he drawled, pulling back to look down at you. There was a sparkle in his eyes, his smile was breathtaking.
You wiped your lipstick off his bottom lip with your thumb, suddenly feeling a bit shy. “You sure?” you asked, folding your arms over your chest in a form of protection from Joel’s possible rejection. 
He offered, but there was still a part of you that was worried.
He furrowed his brow, a smile still on his face as he looked down at you in the dark. “'Course I’m sure. Go get your shoes, baby, and I’ll see you on the shuttle.” Joel spun you toward the nearest door to the barn, lightly smacking your ass go get you moving.
You yelped, swatting at his hand with a glare. 
“Go on, before I ruin that pretty dress of yours in the dirt out here,” he told you, a smirk on his face as he nodded his chin toward the door. You rolled your eyes, acquiescing to his instructions.
It took Joel no time to get you down the hall from the packed elevator and to his room. He clumsily tapped his keycard against the sensor, stamping kisses along the side of your neck as you giggled in the cage of his arms.
Finally he got it to unlock, tightening an arm around your waist as he pushed the door open. Joel took wide, staggered steps on either side of your body as he ushered you inside. 
As soon as the door snapped shut he was already lifting the bottom of your dress, kisses turning into bites on the curve of your neck. “Jo-el,” you whined through giggles as you grabbed the forearm he’d locked around your waist. 
“Unfair that you’re this fucking pretty,” he mumbled, making your face heat up as you tried to protest. Joel shushed you by grabbing a handful of the meat of your thigh, groaning in your ear. 
“How’s it unfair?” you managed to ask, your head spinning from the overwhelming presence of Joel. His rough, calloused hands were groping at your soft flesh, his lips sucking marks on your neck like you were teenagers. 
The room was relatively untouched, his open suitcase on the stand near the large windows on the far side of the room. The curtains were slightly open, moonlight filtering in. “S’unfair that I didn’t meet you sooner,” Joel said, scraping his blunt teeth over the sensitive spot just under your earlobe. You shivered in his arms.
He separated from you just enough to shuck his suit jacket that he had haphazardly put on for the shuttle, tossing it on the little sofa in the room. You turned after stepping out of your heels, linking your hands behind Joel’s neck and pulling him in for another kiss. 
Joel smiled into it, his hands grabbing your waist and holding you flush against his body. “You still wanna do this?” His fingers moved to your spine and played with the zipper on the back of your dress, looking down at you as he waited for your answer. "Don't want you to feel pressured or anything."
“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be,” you murmured, carding your fingers in his thick curls.
Joel just groaned, pressing you flush against him as he captured you in another needy kiss. He pulled the zipper of your dress down in one fluid motion, making a shiver prickle up the length of your spine.
“Let me see ya, baby,” he said against your mouth, pulling the thick straps of your dress down your arms. 
You let the fabric pool at your feet, your sheer, skin-colored bra and panties leaving little to the imagination. A wave of insecurity flashed over you, your skin suddenly feeling stretched too tight over your body as your face and neck heated up. 
You were too aware of the parts of yourself that you didn’t like: the dimpled flesh on the outside of your thighs and the hairs you hadn’t plucked away because the wedding was the last place you thought you’d find a one night stand. A wobbly smile formed, your instinct making you bury your face in Joel’s neck to hide.
“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear his praise. His massive hands ran down your sides, thumbing at the mesh of your bra and panties before he started moving you backwards.
Your calves hit the bed, making you squawk in an unflattering way as Joel lowered you to the mattress. “You’re so gorgeous,” he breathed, his lips trailing down your neck until he was kissing and sucking at your sternum. He nudged your knees apart with his free hand, his other forearm planted on the mattress to hold his weight off of you. He slotted himself in the space between your thighs as his tongue laved over your nipple through the mesh fabric of your bra.
The noise that came out of your throat was embarrassing. Your breath turned into a strangled moan, eyebrows pinching together. The sensation only made your arousal increase tenfold, spine already arching to press your tit against his mouth. 
Joel chuckled, soft brown eyes ticking up to look at your face. “That sensitive?” he said, more of a statement than a question. You found yourself nodding anyway. He thumbed at your other nipple, making it bud against the thin fabric and pulling another whine from your throat. He snickered.
“Don’t tease,” you huffed, wiggling your hips and lightly squeezing his sides with your knees. 
“Don’t worry, baby,” Joel muttered, a smile stretching on his lips as he rolled the pad of his thumb over your nipple again. He placed kisses along your stomach, making you suck in the soft flesh on reflex. His coarse facial hair tickled your skin, making you giggle a bit as he continued to work his way down your form.
“Just wanna taste ya, okay?” Joel asked, his broad shoulders between your spread thighs. His thick fingers hooked into your panties, manipulating your legs so he could pull them off and toss them somewhere in the room. He pressed your legs apart before you could snap them shut, a seed of worry taking root in your mind as you looked down at him.
You’d never been so self-conscious during a hook-up before, but for some reason Joel felt different. Your thoughts were preoccupied on how you looked from his vantage point, if you smelled alright and if anything looked weird.
“Been wanting to taste you all night, ever since I saw you standing up there during that damn ceremony.”
He spread you apart with his thumbs, eyes focused on your already wet pussy as a smirk stretched across his features. He just stared, making you want to crawl back into yourself. Then the feeling of his tongue on your clit makes you forget your worries, your face scrunching as you moaned. Joel hooked your leg over his shoulder, your heel pressing against his back as he pushed your thighs even further apart. 
You couldn’t remember a time when you’d been so soaked before, sticky arousal practically gushing out of you. Joel’s wide tongue licked long stripes up your cunt, careful to practically gulp down everything that he could. He was groaning as he ate you out, his big hands digging into your waist to pull you closer. The coarse hair of his beard was rough against the soft skin of your inner thighs 
“Oh–oh god, Joel,” you sighed, propping yourself up on an elbow so you could look at him. 
Your thighs were quaking, pressing against his ears as your hips twitched. Joel’s dark eyes were hazy and half lidded as he lapped over your clit, working with a focus you’d never experienced with any other man. He looked beautiful between your legs, belly-down on the mattress and still dressed in his button down shirt and slacks. 
One of his hands left your hip, snaking up your stomach to reach blindly until he cupped your breast. He pulled at the cup of your bra, revealing your peaked nipple. The bud was immediately pinched between his thumb and forefinger, making you arch your back as you let out another whine of his name.
Joel dipped down to shove his searing tongue inside of you as his nose bumped into the swollen bead of your clit. A bolt of lightning ricocheted up your spine, a gasp leaving you. It felt so good you could almost cry, your chest heaving and hips clumsily grinding toward his mouth. You were already starting to tremble, pleasure sparking in the pit of your stomach as he mouthed at you. 
And then he pulled back.
“Joel!” you yelped, starting to sit up as your gaze hardened into a glare. Your pussy clenched around nothing, neglected and empty with an interrupted orgasm.
He huffed a laugh, looking down at you as he knelt on the bed in front of you. “You’re right, baby, that’s my name,” he teased, his voice deep and smokey. 
He grabbed you roughly by the hips, pulling so you fell to your back again. “You fucker–” Joel cut you off by pressing the backs of your knees until you were bent in half, a brief show of just how strong he was. His calloused hands gripped the soft flesh of your ass, readjusting you again so the small of your back was propped up against his quads. You’d never been in this angle before, your pussy the highest point of your body as he pushed his forearms against your thighs to keep you still.
Joel’s hot breath washed over your cunt before he delved back into it, greedy as he started sucking on your clit. With the way you were contorted, you were completely helpless, any attempt to move your hips just made your thighs push uselessly against his arms. You were soaking, your arousal dripping down to your asshole as you whimpered pathetically.
He went at a leisurely pace, taking his time to tongue at you and lick long stripes from your perineum to your clit. Your hands were clenching in the white comforter on the hotel bed, your chest heaving. There was something about being completely at his mercy that made your head spin.
You wanted to be greedy, take everything he would give you; but, Joel was in no rush, languidly pressing his face into your pussy despite your best efforts to get him to speed up. 
It was overwhelming in all the right ways, your head spinning as you watched Joel lick at you like he wanted to consume every part of you. Joel cupped your breast in a hand, strumming his thumb lightly over your nipple to keep it stimulated as you gasped. 
You were delirious by the time he sunk two fingers into you, almost making you scream. Joel took a few breaths, his pink lips swollen and shiny with your arousal as he studied your expression. You could hardly think straight, strings of curses mixed with his name falling from your lips as you panted like a bitch in heat. 
The squelching sound of his fingers lazily pumping into your pussy filled the hotel room, loud enough to make your cheeks burn. You wetted your lips, trying to catch your breath beneath Joel.
“So fucking tight around my fingers,” Joel mumbled, the words muffled and wet because he didn’t pull away. It didn’t even feel like he was talking to you, communing with your pussy instead. The praise went directly to your head, making you tighten around his fingers. You threaded a hand in his hair, keeping his mouth pressed against you. “Tastes just as good as I expected.”
“Oh… oh my god,” you breathed, your climax building toward its precipice. 
Joel wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, just barely speeding up the rhythm of his fingers fucking into you. His thumb on your nipple followed suit, matching the motion as tears filled your eyes. Your fingers threaded into his curls, your brows furrowed as you pulled on his hair. He grunted against you, not letting up as he worked you up toward the edge. 
When you came it was a whole body event. Your legs trembled, hips burning from the awkward angle Joel had bent you into. Your back arched, breath pausing in your chest. Your cunt clenched around his fingers, sucked tight and feeling every inch of them inside you. The pleasure was white-hot as it coursed through you, leaving your nerves buzzing and your ears ringing as your body went limp.
“So pretty when you come,” Joel said, his thick fingers still deep inside you.
You were almost nonverbal, your response a delirious sob as you looked up at Joel with watery eyes. He caressed your cheek, gently stroking your jaw and thumb wiping over your lower lip. You kissed the pad of it out of reflex, the motion making his expression soften for a moment.
Then he started to massage the spongy spot inside of your dripping pussy, making your eyes roll back. “Too sensitive,” you whined, grabbing onto his forearm in a weak attempt to stop him. 
“Trust me, baby, I’ve got you,” he said in that syrupy tone, gaze still locked on your face as you squirmed. He took his hand away from your cheek, holding one of your legs to keep you still as he fucked his fingers into you. “You can do one more for me, right?”
The need to please him made you nod, taking in a deep and shaky breath. You couldn’t do anything but take it, your mouth dropping open and your back arching. The overstimulation made you tremble, your whole body squirming. Breaths kept huffing out of you, your brows pinched tight as you tried to relax. It was hard to think straight, hell, it was hard to even breathe. 
Joel pulled his fingers out of you for a moment to strum over your swollen clit, only touching you with just enough pressure to drive you crazy. He continued until you were straining against him, moaning and sobbing his name. It was like he was carved from stone, hardly giving you any leeway as he kept you in place. The pressure in you built faster this time, it was almost embarrassing how quick he was able to get you to the edge. 
“Joel, Joel, Joel–ohmygod,” you gasped, reaching for purchase against his thigh. His dress pants were soft under your fingers as you squeezed, your body practically vibrating. 
“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured soothingly, pressing a wet kiss to the back of your thigh as his fingers hooked back into you. 
Joel fucked you on them at a ruthless pace as his thumb rolled over the crest of your sex, your mouth opening in a wordless cry as you fell into your second orgasm of the night. You were completely lost, your eyes squeezed shut as your muscles spasmed against the restraint of Joel’s arms. White noise filled your mind, your body melting against Joel’s thighs and the bed as your legs fell open even further. 
He rubbed along the seam of your cunt soothingly, calloused fingers working you through the aftershocks. Your eyes were completely hazed when you looked up at him, splayed on the bed like every bone had been pulled from your body. He looked positively giddy, his wet fingers smearing on your thigh as he rubbed your legs in an effort to help you come back to yourself.
Joel let you off of him, returning your spine to the mattress as he leaned over you to give you a kiss. You hummed into it, smelling and tasting your salty-sweet slick on his lips and facial hair. “Please fuck me,” you begged between presses of his mouth, desperation easy to hear in your tone.
“‘Course I will, baby,” he said, getting off the bed to quickly undress himself. You shakily sat up, unclipping your bra at your back and tossing it aside. 
Joel was impressive, his body rippled with muscles beneath a layer of fat that told you he was eating well. Your gaze dragged down him, mouth watering as you finally saw his cock. It was big, the same tanned tone of his skin with a flushed tip. It jutted from a patch of trimmed, dark hair that was accentuated by the happy trail beneath his navel. You swallowed thickly, pussy clenching at the thought of him fucking you into the mattress.
You kissed him eagerly as he got back on the bed, part of you so desperate to please him. Joel was older than you, so much more experienced, you just wanted him to like you. 
He grunted, curling a hand around the back of your neck to keep you close. His other hand traveled down your body, massaging your hip with his thumb. You were putty in his hands, your own arms in a loop around his neck.
“Lay down,” Joel mumbled against the hinge of your jaw, nipping at the bone. You whimpered, fingers digging into the broad muscle of his shoulders as you complied. Joel ran a hand over you, sliding it down the valley between your breasts and over your soft stomach. 
The backs of your thighs were pressed against his quads as he took himself in his hand, sliding the blunt head of his cock along your pussy. You clenched around nothing, desperate and wanting. “Joel, please.” 
You couldn’t take waiting anymore.
He smirked, notching himself at your entrance and obliging you. Joel pressed and pressed and pressed until his hips were completely snug against yours. He split you in half across the width of his cock, moving slow to give you some time to adjust. It felt like he’d consumed all of the extra space in your body, you even felt him in your throat. 
You breathed brokenly, back arched and hips twitching as you struggled to find a comfortable position. You weren’t a virgin–weren’t anything close to it, really–but it felt just as overwhelming as your first time.
Joel bent over you, his elbows on either side of your head carrying his weight as he ground his hips against yours. His forehead pressed into your shoulder, a heated groan rumbling from his chest. It was hard to make sense of things, rattled breaths filling your chest as your mind whirred uselessly. He peppered kisses over your face, his lips wet and warm as he showered you in affection.
Then he moved his hips, the roll of them slow and syrupy and making you nearly choke. You grabbed at his biceps, an attempt to anchor yourself to him as he started to rut his hips into yours. He made room for himself with every press of his cock, molding you to the shape of him.
Joel collected your leg with a rough hand, pushing your knee toward your chest. He let it come to rest in the curve of his elbow, palm pressed flat to the comforter as he spread you open wider. Your hips protested as he splayed you apart, the discomfort easily taking a backseat to your pleasure.
You keened, mouth falling open as he sank even deeper inside of you. Your breaths came out in little mewls, matching Joel’s grunts as you met each thrust with a weak roll of your hips. His lips were at your throat, sucking more marks into the skin and his facial hair scratching against you. “Goddamn, you’re gonna be the death of me, baby,” Joel groaned into the curve of your neck, still keeping an even rhythm
You let out a breathy laugh–you felt the same way about him. He lifted himself to get a better look at you, dark brown eyes as warm as the summer sun as his gaze drifted all the way down to where his cock was buried in you. He grunted at the sight, pupils dilating like drops of ink in water.
His free hand lifted off its elbow, his weight shifting to one side so he could wet the pad of his thumb with a lick of his tongue. You were making sounds you couldn’t control, each thrust pushing a small gasp from your throat. Then, Joel dropped his hand to your lower abdomen, gently tracing the curve of your belly down into the soft thatch of hair you hadn’t bothered to shave.
A calloused thumb found your clit, swirling over it with a confident pressure in a way that made your eyes nearly roll back in your skull. Joel was pounding into the spot that made you see stars, merciless in his pace. “Joel… oh god…”
You could feel the flutter of your orgasm starting, your legs trembled against his arm and the curve of his waist. You chanted his name like a prayer, overstimulated tears starting to squeeze out of the corners of your eyes and roll into your hairline. He just soldiered on, grinding his thumb over your clit as he worked you higher and higher toward the edge.
A rattling gasp escaped your throat as you pulsed around Joel, your brows pinching and your body stiffening beneath his. You could feel the release from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head, your nails digging into his thick biceps as the flickering pleasure turned into a full on forest fire. You leaned up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto the mattress with you as you held him close.
“Fuck,” Joel moaned into your neck. His thrusts became sloppy fast, his discipline gone to the wayside now that he made you come on his cock. You felt him twitch inside you, his breath coming out in hot huffs against the curve of your shoulder. His hand grabbed your hip, pulling you down to match his frantic thrusts as he moaned your name into your skin.
You wanted to pull his head away from you so you could see how his face looked when he finished. The muscles in his abdomen clenched, his hips grinding tight to yours as he came inside of you. You moaned with him, the feeling of being filled up by him satiating a need you didn’t know you had as you dragged your blunt nails on his scalp.
Joel finally collapsed, the weight of his body pressing down on you as you combed your fingers through his hair. His hips were cradled by your legs, sweat slicking your skin wherever it was pressed together. You breathed against one another, pulling each other close as you basked in the afterglow.
You were sharing the same air, pressing loose kisses to each other's warm skin as you melted into each other for an unknown amount of time. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours.
“We should clean up,” you finally breathed, able to come back to yourself. 
Joel nodded against your neck, you felt it more than you saw it. You giggled after he didn’t move, still leaving you helpless and pinned beneath him. He seemed to make himself even more comfortable, arms constricting around you and face nuzzling closer to your throat.
“Joel,” you chastised, lightly shoving at his shoulder. It was half-hearted and meaningless–you were more than content to stay here all night if you had to.
“I like how you say that, Joel,” he said, mimicking your voice in an annoyingly high-pitched tone. It made you laugh, throwing your head back against the comforter as you shook it. 
He hissed, pulling away from you just enough to prop himself up on an elbow. “You clench around me like a fucking vise when you laugh like that, baby,” Joel muttered, swirling his fingertips over your skin. He didn’t move to pull out of you quite yet, the two of you relishing in the intimacy of your embrace.
A slow smirk crossed his face, his dark eyes flickering back up to meet yours. “Plus, what’s the point of cleaning up if I’m not done with you yet?”
Needless to say, you were sneaking out of his room when the dregs of sunlight started streaming through the hotel room windows, sore and exhausted, with his phone number typed into your phone and his hickeys all over your skin.
413 notes · View notes
maykitz · 11 months
Text
society would greatly benefit from seeing more photography of men being photographed like women, not just the clothes but everything else, heroin chic skinny boys in makeup and high heels and an impractical uncomfortable outfit that restricts too much and covers too little, posing their fully shaved unmuscular bodies to look vulnerable and available, making soft doe eyes and sultry open mouthed semi orgasmic faces, not even in erotic settings but completely casual everyday billboard advertisements for blue jeans, a new perfume or a local cleaning business. photography that makes it clear they don't depict people to be respected and admired but objects that constantly look over their shoulder to make sure they're satisfying the consumer behind the lens. this would enrich us
2K notes · View notes
cringeworms · 6 months
Text
I'm writing an analysis of gender performativity in The Silence of the Lambs for my gender and sexuality class and in the course of my research I have encountered so many bad takes!! I can't not say anything so I've come to Tumblr to rant.
The most common criticism I see is that the ending of "Hannibal" discredits, undoes, or diminishes Clarice's feminism, autonomy, or power, or that it ruins the message of SOTL. That indicates a complete misunderstanding of Clarice and the point of the books! The point of "Hannibal" is to show that it does not matter how amazing, powerful, or how much of a feminist you are: if you are a woman in a career, especially a federal career, the system is designed to put you down and keep you quiet. I think there is nothing more she could have done and nothing she could have done differently to prevent her disgrace. When the system is set up to put men in power and keep them in power, your talent and integrity do not matter if they decide they don't want/need you anymore. There is nothing she can do to prevent the label of "female officer" from haunting her credibility. Even Crawford, who respects her and fights for her, sees her with the caveat of "woman." The one man who does not consider her gender any sort of detriment or a reason to treat her differently is Hannibal Lecter. They have genuine mutual respect. When she chose to be with him, she chose respect, love, and comfort over a life of fighting to be recognized, respected, or listened to. Just as much as it is respectable for women to fight for their right to be recognized in their careers, we must also recognize that that fight should not need to exist in the first place. So, why should there be any shame about choosing not to fight that fight anymore? She spent years in an uphill battle, and she probably never would have escaped it (to no fault of her own!). The ending of "Hannibal" is Clarice raising a middle finger to the system, the FBI, misogyny, and the patriarchy by recognizing that she deserves unconditional love and respect and that the system she fought so hard for was, in fact, completely undeserving of her talent or presence. Her decision is powerful and empowered!
"She was brainwashed!" she literally wasn't. Hannibal tried that (I believe because he was so unfamiliar with the idea of love or family that he didn't know how to understand Clarice outside of the lens of Mischa) but he was unsuccessful. If she was able to resist his efforts of brainwashing while in an altered state she certainly had the strength of mind to make her own decisions. Her decision was not impulsive. Also, I think it serves as a testament to her influence and power over him. She gained control of the situation and he didn't resist that. Ultimately, Clarice chose to spend the rest of her life with the one man who ever truly saw her as more than just a woman, who admired her intellect, and who respected her enough to challenge her. That is not weak, submissive, or misogynistic. Quite the opposite. She chose to leave behind the life she put years of effort into building (because she knew it would be fruitless) in favor of being finally honored and appreciated. That takes courage! She knew her worth, and she knew the FBI didn't deserve her.
Also, anyone who paid any attention to the books saw the romantic tension throughout the story. It didn't come out of nowhere. She really just needed an opportunity or an excuse to be with him, and she was finally presented with it.
I think reading the ending to "Hannibal" as anything other than empowering is a mischaracterization of both Clarice and Hannibal and shows a lack of understanding of the message of the books. I think it reflects a shallow understanding of not only the books, but of how feminism operates IRL (especially during the 80s/90s).
I also must give the disclaimer that I do not think these books are epitomes of feminism or representation. The transmisogyny, racism, queerphobia, etc., are obviously inexcusable. Just because I interpret their message as a story of caution about how misogyny operates, and how it is respectable to choose a path that does not work within that system, does not mean I agree with everything presented in them or any of their harmful rhetorics or stereotypes. I have a STRONG love/hate relationship with these stories and I don't ever mean to undersell the "hate" part of that lol.
276 notes · View notes
518td · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
my turn 😎
15 notes · View notes
freeadmission · 11 months
Text
Coco and Jayda in studio.
The best part of my job is getting to work with incredible agency talent. Every time we get an assignment or a concept we pull it together and get it done. Often we have never worked together before but after a quick intro and orientation, we get to work. This is the result, a certain kind of magic happens and we share the result with you.
Coco and Jayda haven’t worked together before and I am really happy with the result.
Thanks to Off Town Magazine #29 Vol 6 for featuring our editorial.
0 notes
voguescapes · 1 year
Text
h. styles | vanity fair
pairings. harry styles x famous!reader
about. harry and (y/n) are guest on 'vanity fair' to do a lie detector test together, revealing multiple secrets from the pair.
warnings. not edited so disregard any errors, jealous harry cause why not, not my gif, kind of bad writing, a little cursing here and there. lmk if i missed something!
note. hiii everyone! i don’t know if i’m beck yet but i’m just going be leaving a quick fic because it’s been a little over three months which is outrageous!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
She rolled her eyes and shook her head sarcastically. "You're supposed to save the best for last, you should go first." Harry placed his hand over her and kissed the side of her head. "My girlfriend, everyone."
"Are you ready? I came up with some pretty interesting questions these past few days that I've been dying to ask you." She grinned.
“I was born ready. Plus," The singer smirked, looking at his girlfriend with sparkling eyes, "I get to ask you some questions after, so be careful with what you ask, babe, because it might come back to bite your ass." He winked and her face flushed a bright red.
Harry turned back towards the camera and clapped, "Let's get started!" A crew member laughed and instructed (Y/N) to move to sit at the other side of the table so they could attach Harry to the machine.
"Arms up." The man demanded sternly. Harry observed her blank, emotionless face and then turned to his girlfriend with furrowed eyebrows. She shrugged and wiggled her eyebrows at him causing him to break the silence and lightly chuckle. The man silently sent them glares, which they both ignored and continued making silly faces and giggled as quietly as they could.
"We're ready." A crew member called out from behind the camera breaking (Y/N) out of her daze and she looked at the man controlling the polygraph machine to ask a few questions.
"Alright, I'm going to ask you a few short, straightforward questions to calibrate the machine." Harry exhaled loudly and wiggled his fingers before nodding, gesturing for the man to proceed.
"Is your name Harry Styles?"
Harry nodded making the woman command him to answer verbally. His girlfriend snorted and stifled a laugh while he mustered out apologies.
"Yes."
"Are you 28 years old?"
"Yes."
"Finally, are you nervous?" He looked up with squinted eyes, something he did frequently whenever he was thinking about something.
"Uh, knowing (Y/N/N), kind of." He chuckled breathily. The woman nodded and laughed along while the polygraph operator gave her a thumbs up to begin.
"Okay, Hazza, first question! Have you ever fallen in love?" The man visibly laughed at how simple her first question was. "Of course. With you." She smiled at his kind words, practically feeling her heart melting. She looked at the polygraph examiner, seeing him throw up a quick thumbs up.
"You're too cheesy sometimes. You guys,"
(Y/N) spoke towards the lens, "pray for me. I have to deal with him every. single. day."
"Hey!" Harry exclaimed, lifting his hands in the air with an offended expression etched on his face. She turned to the camera and rolled her eyes in a jokingly manner before moving on to the next question.
"We watch Marvel movies quite often together. I work for Marvel, am I your favourite marvel actor?"
"Bubs, you're an actress." Harry spoke. (Y/N) shook your head and he tilted his as he awaited her response. "Haz, knowing you, I’m surprised that you of all people would say that! Anyways, women should be considered as actors too and not just actresses. After all, male and female doctors are both called doctors, not doctors and doctresses." She stated in a practical manner.
His voice changed pitch as he tried to imitate her. "Fine." He replied dramatically, pretending to flip his hair back with his hand.
"So, out of all the Marvel actors, am I your favorite?" She smirked and fixed her gaze on his middle and index finger, already tapping nervously on the metal table.
"Yes."
She touched her heart dramatically.
"That's a lie." The man behind the machine called out. (Y/N) dropped her hand and her smile fell. "Harold!"
"Okay, it's RDJ. I'm sorry, love." Harry cringed, shocked that the machine picked up on his lie so quickly. She narrowed her eyes and looked back down at her phone. "That's fair. He's everyone's favourite." She mumbled grumpily.
"Does Gemma actually like me?" Harry confidently nodded his head. "Absolutely. She adores you." He responded sweetly. She turned her head to the operator. He nodded towards her, "That's true."
She swiped her hand across her forehead, wiping imaginary sweat. "Good to know."
"Would you consider yourself to be an overly affectionate boyfriend?" She questioned. It was a question she thought of frequently. Harry loved to cuddle, hug, kiss, hold hands, and essentially shower her with love whenever he had the chance, but she wanted to know if he knew of his actions or if he would just do it subconsciously.
"Um, no. I think I'm just about the right amount of affectionate." And it was true, he actually thought that he wasn’t overly affectionate. She choked back a laugh and covered her face with her hand, quickly looking back down to her phone in hopes of finding a different question to quickly move on to.
"Hey, hey, wait! I saw that! You think I'm overly affectionate?" He inquired, his voice going at least 3 octaves higher. "I'm the one asking questions here, Hazza." She winked and scrolled for a question in her notes app.
"Do you think our children would be cute?" She questioned as a sweet smile prominently appeared on her face. She decided against asking if he wanted kids because he had already confessed he did a few months back. It was the purest, most heartwarming conversation she had ever had.
Harry looked at her as if it were crazy of her to ask that. To him, the answer was obvious. "Absolutely. I mean," he pointed in between the two of them, "look at us." He replied cockily. She eyed him, but eventually shrugged, realising that even though he sounded like such a dickhead in the moment, he wasn't wrong.
"Next. Does size matter?" She giggled, watching her boyfriends face contort.
"You're asking me that? What I think? Or what I think you think?" He questioned, waggling his eyebrows.
"Answer however you'd like." The corners of her lips lifted and her face contorted into a mischievous grin. Harry pondered for a while, furrowing his eyebrows as he searched his brain for a good response. "No, I don't think it does." He answered. “That’s true.”
"Okay! Next, Do you think if we met on The Ellen Show, we would have never gotten together?" She inquired. This was a question that she would often ask herself, however, she never had the courage to actually ask him in fear of some form of rejection, so she’d only ponder it while Harry was sleeping soundly beside you.
"Yeah. I think I would've seen you on instagram and slid in your DM’s or something." He admitted. The examiner nodded.
"Moving on. Have you ever lied to me?" She inquired. Harry pursed his lips and sighed. "Yes." He answered honestly.
"Elaborate, please." (Y/N) said, looking at him expectantly. "I’ve know you for over three years now, I’ve lied to you thousands of time." She nodded and moved onto the next question.
"Would you consider yourself to be a heartthrob?" She asked. She was aware of the huge fanbase he had developed since One Direction, people adored and swooned over him and his lovable characters in some of the roles he played.
"Yes." She turned to the polygraph operator and she nodded, "he's telling the truth."
"Damn right, my boyfriend's a heartthrob and he knows it." She said proudly as she looked into the camera.
Harry chuckled and rubbed his eye as he anticipated her final question.
"Last question. Frankly, the most important question. Does pineapple belong on pizza? This could determine the future of our relationship, Haz. I want you to really think about your answer." She warned dramatically. Harry pursed his lips.
"Yes. I think. I like pineapple on pizza, actually." (Y/N) clapped happily and puffed out a small breath of relief. "That's my baby!"
"Alright, my turn, loser."
Harry scoffed loudly and switched his attention to all the cords wrapped around his body parts. He frantically begged the man to remove all the 'gizmos' and 'doo-dads' as quick as possible.
Once he set the singer free, he pranced around the tiny room and threw his arms around his girlfriends body, giving her an enormous hug. "Love you." He mumbled in her hair.
The man then instructed her the same way she had done to Harry. "I can do this." She repeated for the millionth time in the last 5 minutes while a member of the crew hooked her up to the machine. They attached a series of different wires and cords around her chest, fingers and arm.
"I'm scared." She laughed, placing her hand where her heart was. She could feel it pumping quickly.
"Just to let you know, your questions were shit. Mine are actually spicy." Harry teased, excitedly scrolling through the questions on a page in his notes.
He would finally be able to ask some questions that he'd been dying to know about her that he was just too embarrassed to ask on a normal occasion. He hoped some of his questions/some of her answers would reaffirm some things for him.
"Shut up, Styles. I can see you were sweating through your shirt. You're not slick." She smirked, making him lift his arms, where there was a tiny yet noticeable wet patch on the fabric of his expensive shirt.
"Okay, Harry, you can begin asking your questions." The man called as Harry embarrassingly lowered his arm. (Y/N) facepalmed and giggled quietly at his foolishness to herself.
"Okay. Is your name (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?"
"Yes."
"Are you 26 years old?"
"Yes."
"Am I your boyfriend?"
"No." She lied.
"It jumped." The man called, "We're all good."
"Okay," Harry sighed, "I don't know what I would've said if that came out as true." He laughed. "Imagine?" She giggled.
Harry shook his head and read his first real question. "Do you think I'm overly affectionate?" Harry raised his eyebrows while he stared his beautiful girlfriend down. She chuckled and shook her head at his expression, "You're seriously still hung up on that?"
"Just answer the question!" He demanded over-dramatically. "Yes." He gasped and the crew members behind him attempted to cover up their laughs with coughs and sneezes. "But I like that about you. I enjoy your cuddles. That should be considered a compliment." The man confirmed her statement and Harry grinned like a toddler who'd just been told he was going to Disneyland.
"Do you want to get married someday?" He inquired, hope laced in his tone. Although the both of them had spoken about this before, he wanted to make sure. She hesitated for a second, but eventually nodded.
"Yes. As long as it's you." The man blushed and they could hear members of the crew letting out small 'aw's' as they watched them both intently.
"Or Tom Holland, to be honest."
"You just had to ruin the moment." He said moving on while (Y/N) giggled quietly at his disappointment. He swore he heard the serious, monotoned man laugh too.
"The internet made several memes about me after I gushed about your tattoo you got with Emma during our autocomplete interview. Would you get a matching tattoo with me?"
"Of course." Harry’s mouth dropped and turned to the operator for confirmation. He looked up at Harry’s hopeful eyes and nodded. She was telling the truth.
"It's official, everyone, we're getting matching tattoos first thing tomorrow!" Harry deadpanned into the camera, making her publicists laugh in the background.
"You write poems, a lot. I can confirm that," She let out a giggle and nodded her head. "Would you ever write and a poem about me?"
"Um, here’s the thing. I already made a poem or two about hot." She pulled her hair behind her ear nervously. Harry shook his head, his earrings bouncing side to side.
"Which one?" Harry asked childishly, causing her to nervously smile. "Dandelions.” She smiled at the excited boy.
He looked at the camera and mouthed “I knew it”.
"Next… you're known for being a very private person. You've never been public with any of your relationships before me." She nodded. "Out of all these relationships, am I the best boyfriend you've had?" (Y/N) rolled her eyes, expecting to hear the question sooner or later. "Yes, you idiot."
"She's telling the truth." Harry pumped his fist in the air and internally congratulated himself. "I'm so proud of myself, sorry." His cheeks turned red as he noticed everyone waiting for him to get over himself and get on with the next question.
"Before we met, did you listen to any of my songs other than from One Direction?" He rested his head in his palm as he watched her quizzically.
"Um, Duh! I was literally obsessed with you!" She said confidently, thinking back to her fan girl era.
"I already knew the answer to that, I just like hearing her say that she was in love with me." His response made her giggle softly.
"Do you think about the future a lot?"
"All the time."
"Am I in it?" She blushed lightly, "Always."
Harry smirked, repeating one of her previous questions. "Does size matter?"
"You really just took a turn in the opposite direction." She laughed, sending a 'Jim face' towards the camera. "Answer the question! Or else I'm gonna..."
(Y/N) leaned back in her chair as she awaited his answer along with everyone else on set, who was very entertained with the sarcastic couple.
"I'll hit your funny bone. Three times."
"You're adorable." The woman cooed at him while he grumpily pursed his lips. If she were closer, she would've already pinched his cheeks and dramatically rambled on about how cute, soft and innocent he was in front of the camera purposely.
"No, I don't think it does." She repeated his answer from earlier. It was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes. She threw her head back in laughter at his expression and shook her head.
"She's telling the truth." The operator spoke, snapping Harry out of his thoughts. He sent her a skeptical look, while she continued to laugh heavily.
He looked back down at his phone and continued on. "Do you find this man attractive?" Harry had attached a picture to his notes and set his phone flat on the table so the cameras could catch a glimpse of the photo.
It was a photo of Tom Holland at the premiere for his Spider-Man sequel, Spider-Man: Far From Home.
"Duh." She smiled cheekily, blood quickly rushing to her cheeks. Harry groaned as she grabbed his phone and zoomed in to get a better look at all his features. He could practically see her pupils dilate as she stared at the photo.
"Do you think he is more of a heartthrob than me?" She cringed, wondering how she should go about answering this question.
"Yes."
"That's true."
Harry’s jaw went slack. "What!" He shouted with wide eyes. She giggled and raised her hands innocently. "What? Tom Holland is one fine man. You can't get mad at me for that, I mean… look! at! him!" She handed him his phone, zoomed in on Tom's face.
Harry scoffed at her fangirl side coming out as he swallowed heavily.
"Would you leave me for Tom Holland?"
No. (Y/N) thought, holding back a laugh. She thought for a moment. "Yes. Absolutely. 100%. Definitely. No. Questions. Asked." She responded nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders and leaning back, still being mindful of all the equipment attached to her.
Harry looked down at the metal table and his jaw clenched. She could see his body physically tense as he waited for the polygraph operator to confirm or deny her answer.
"The machine jumped. She's lying."
Harry’s head shot up and he met his girlfriends gaze. She had a small smirk on her face and lifted her hands up to her face as she felt a blush creeping up to her cheeks.
Harry clenched his hands above his head and tilted his head back in his chair, letting out a small yell in triumph. He jumped our of his seat and sized up the camera, getting awfully close.
"You all heard that! I'm done! That's the last question, this couldn't have gone better." He dropped his phone and quickly made his way around the table, being careful not to trip on any wires or break the polygraph machine in any way.
He crouched down and wrapped his arms around her torso, burying his face into the crock of her neck because he couldn't stop his raging smile. "I knew it!"
She looked into the camera, still in her boyfriends embrace and gazed into the camera. She jokingly motioned a 'no' with her hands and mouthed 'Tom, call me', sending the camera a wink and bringing her right hand out with her pinky and thumb sticking out, making it look like a phone and bringing it up to her ear.
Harry felt her movement and looked up at her eyes. She quickly brought her hand to his shoulder and looked down at him as if nothing happened. He placed multiple tiny kisses all around her face, making her crinkle her nose and eyes.
He turned back to the camera for a spilt second. "You heard it here first, (Y/N) (Y/L/N) wouldn't leave me, Harry Styles for Tom Holland! Goodbye! Subscribe to Vanity Fair!" He saluted, still smiling uncontrollably as they both waved at the camera.
2K notes · View notes
venerablemonk27 · 27 days
Text
I logged my 200th bird species for Wisconsin! I got a great tip from a close friend, who knows about these things, that a Hooded Warbler had appeared in a park near my house.
Tumblr media
[ID: A male Hooded Warbler perches on a mossy branch in the forest. His body is just a couple inches long, with green feathers on back, wings, and tail, and dull yellow for the underparts. His "hood" is a black cowl that covers almost his entire head save for a bright yellow mask that extends in an oval from the middle of his face to surround the eye and ear on each side. He has a pointy dark gray bill shaped for picking insects off of trees, and his eye is a reflective jet black that stands out against the yellow mask. End ID]
The next morning, I packed up my camera along with my work bag and took a break from my commute to check out the park. I arrived to find several people wandering the trails, here to do the exact same thing as me. None of them had seen the Hoodie yet, but they had a wealth of information from other birders on the movements and general behavior of the bird from the past couple days. I spent at least 45 minutes wandering the trails, squishing through the damp and the mud in my work slacks and sneakers. I logged five firsts for 2024, but no sign of the elusive Hooded Warbler.
Tumblr media
[ID: The Hooded Warbler perches on the same mossy branch, this time facing away from the camera and looking up into the treetops. His wings are neatly folded behind his back, making a pleasing pattern with the tips of the primary flight feathers. End ID]
So I left the park for work, but decided I should come back in the evening. I knew from the sighting reports in eBird that this guy is active all day. When I got back to the park, it was cloudy and drizzling. I met a pair of nice young women with binoculars and a camera lens as long as mine. I asked, "Are you here looking for the Hooded Warbler too?"
One of them said very casually, "Oh yeah, it's right over there across the creek. Just flittering around." So of course I had to get eyes on him and try to get a photo. It was only a couple minutes before he came out again and started working the far bank of the creek.
Tumblr media
[ID: The same Hooded Warbler, this time perched deeper in the brush and looking toward the camera. This angle provides a better view of the black hood and bright yellow mask, looking delicately fringed around the edges. End ID]
I probably followed the Hoodie down the creek for like 10 minutes before he decided to cross over to our side to do some more foraging. I froze. He was almost completely hidden in the brush, but I could see bits of movement and kept him in the frame the whole time. I knew I couldn't make any sudden moves without scaring him away. For a brief moment, he came out to take a closer look at me, which is where all the photos in this post came from. I only managed to shoot three bursts while he was completely out in the open before he took off for the far side of the creek again.
Tumblr media
[ID: The Hooded Warbler looks directly at the camera, only partially obscured by a twig. His posture suggests being ready to leap forward and continue the hunt for insects. End ID]
I was left feeling incredibly amped. The other photographer and I had to share back-of-the-camera shots and gush over how cute he was and how close he came to us. It seems it's always a special event when a rare or unusual species shows up in town. I love these brief moments of connection with birds and the people that care about them.
119 notes · View notes
Text
Book Review: Behind the Lens (First in the Annie Hawkins Green series) by Jeannée Sacken
Book Review: Behind the Lens (First in the Annie Hawkins Green series) by Jeannée Sacken
Author Jeannée Sacken draws upon her experience as an international photojournalist to heighten reality in Behind the Lens. Annie Hawkins Green is a veteran photojournalist who’s been embedded during wars around the world. While in Afghanistan, she and her military escort are ambushed by the Taliban. In the incident, her escorts are killed, and a young girl dies in Annie’s arm. In the eight years…
Tumblr media
View On WordPress
0 notes
noirflms · 9 months
Text
୧ ˚₊ EVERYBODY’S FALLING IN LOVE ( AND I’M FALLING BEHIND ) — itoshi sae
he has never been a lover, but the day he met you, he finally found what love felt like.
Tumblr media
itoshi sae has never been a lover, because love has never been his cup of tea. it certainly not his thing to love, or do anything related to this word; he just dislikes it, for it leaves a sour taste in his mind. he has seen people around him fall in love, be so infatuated with the very thought of it, while dopey and lovesick grins stay on their faces.
and in that sense, itoshi sae is not a lover.
love to him is like a sour candy, too sour to contemplate that it might leave your taste buds numb for a while. love to him is fragile, and it is not in him to take care of delicate things, and a thing like that, he might just back out as is. he doesn’t like the way makes you weak, he’d rather be brave and have a harsh front rather than a soft and gentle one.
love is for the weak in his dictionary, it is for people who don’t have any strengths, to him love is just a mere words, a meaningless and a waste of time, to itoshi sae love is just a hindrance, nothing more or nothing less.
but sometimes a change of perspective could bring one to have a different view, and that was what brought itoshi sae to think about the world love again, a new point of view he gathered through a dreamy lens, one that was conjured up by the likes of you, a certain someone that brought him to like the way love felt.
a lot changed the day he met you, quite like a slap to his face ( literally ).
flashing cameras and crowding paparazzis are all he sees, they are quite blinding for sae, but he is used to bright lights and this lifestyle, having been a self made prodigy, he was surrounded by cameras and paparazzis. but he hated having eyes on him, for then he couldn’t have a life out of this captured world.
it’s always an article where he has been shammed or either an article which quite literally ensues rumours of him being a womaniser — having a new girl at his arm every week. it leaves a bitter taste in his mind to even think about such absurdities, so this time he was by himself at the latest football gala, a party for all the new club members to be exact.
sae finds it hard to be in the focus of everyone, men and women alike all like to be around him, but women are more to throw themselves at him, he despises the very fact such women exist. strained and fake smiles are all he shows, jaw clenched as he talks with men with mindset’s so different, five glasses of wine have been emptied by him since the time of arrival.
so soon he finds himself wanting fresh air, a breather from all this chaos, he finds a way out as soon as the lights dim and all focus on the stage in the room. he is silent as a predator is, and as good as an escape artist to make such an escapade but seems like the gods were not in his right, for as soon as he turns the corner, his cheek meets with a hand and it begins to sting.
never in a million years had itoshi sae thought of getting smacked in the entirety of the premiere.
“oh my gosh! i’m so sorry! i thought you were a stalker or something!” it’s a heavy accent he realises but the stinging on his cheek overlooks anything that happens around him. he shakes his head focusing at the voice at hand, but his heart almost leaps out of his chest at the sight before him.
( e.c ) eyes that gleam with worry as it seems to etch itself upon your features, you bite your lip in distress as you take notice of the red mark on his cheek, but his eyes are set on the way you bite your lip and he gulps, heart thumping in his chest. you observe his face that is just looking at you in awe, and as he looks into your eyes he realises you have no clue of who he was.
“i’m so so sorry!” the voice of yours breaks his stupor and the ache upon his cheek returns — it sure was a hard slap. you gulp as you see him fix his jaw, you swallow hard, the way he was suited up to the nines made you figure out that he was much more than just a creep; he looked famous.
your blood runs cold at the thought. your heart racing in your chest, as you await any loud gesture or shout for guards, or anything related to you being thrown out made your head spin.
“it’s alright, i was the one that turned the corner unannounced.” and sae is bamboozled at the words that slip past him, he looks at you, his eyes wide, and he notices your tense demeanour relax. a heavy sigh escaping briefly past your lips as you look up at him with a smile.
“but i-, um, i still apologise for the inconvenience.” you awkwardly chuckle, not cool [name], not cool, a voice rings in your head as you bite your tongue. it is then you make eye contact with him, his eyes are quite unlike any, and to him, yours were better than any. sae likes the way your eyes look like a hazy dream, he likes the way his reflection looks back at him through your eyes.
and in the moment he realised that he liked the way you looked at him, for you saw him for him, and not for the famous persona of his.
and since then, it’s been encounters here and there, finding each other at places you thought you’d never, bumping shoulder in areas one could have never fathomed. it turns from light glances to lingering ones, timid laughter turns into ones filled with nothing but genuine joy, small talks turn into conversation that ring through coffee shops.
then one hangout at his place, turns into a date at a place you like. then one date turns into two, then three, then four and soon they turn into long nights spend at your cost apartment, to ranging from movie nights at his. longing touches turn into never letting go of you, kisses that were once pressed onto his cheeks begin to linger upon his lips.
but itoshi sae was not a lover, so he never named the thing you had with him, but he liked that way you felt in his arms, he liked the way you fit right with him, he liked the taste of your lips on his, he liked the way you were his, yet not for him to keep.
for love was not meant for him, so then why did his heart ache at the thought of seeing you go. the mere thought of you being with another was like a nightmare to him, the very thought of you not being his, was utter torture for the said male.
yet here he was, a coward, he once again was a little boy who was scared to face the world to early, and love was once again becoming the victor and he could not accept defeat. he has watched many flourish within love, yet it wasn’t in him to be able to bear this sweet fruit of entanglement.
“you’re kind of stupid, you know that sae.” and for a moment, oliver aiku sounded right, he sounded to be much more truthful in the heat of the moment than he ever could be, much more better than itoshi sae was what oliver aiku had become in that instance. “certainly you look like a coward to me right now.”
and those were the last words, sae had heard from oliver before he was up on his feet, they ached as he rushed to your house, panting and huffing as he finds the door to your house to be right before him, shaky hands tremble in fear to press the doorbell, heart racing, he liked you, so what was there to fear in that.
as soon as his trembling hands press the bell and the door to your house opens, it takes everything in him to stop him from pressing his lips against yours. you were the only thing matter to him the most, in present and in future, you’ll be the sole thing that he’d like to call his forever and ever.
that fickle day itoshi sae had learnt so much more. he had learnt that love was not for the weak but for people who knew what strengthened them to the core. he learned that love was not bitter or sour, it was just missing from the right person and when you fall in love with the one that you know is true, you’ll know how sweet is the taste of the fruit.
and for the first time in forever, he wasn’t falling behind in any prospect anymore, especially in the case of love, for he had you.
the sole thing the brought him to a purpose he could have never known.
Tumblr media
i like a chase, and itoshi sae is a man who certainly hates the idea of love but internally wishes to find just the right one ;)
NOIRFLMS 2023 ! all rights reserved - plagiarism is a crime , do not translate my works without permission. REBLOG MORE PLEASE !
367 notes · View notes
asha-mage · 2 months
Text
Since it's my birthday my friends got me the amazing gift of 'watching the Wheel of Time show while occasionally stopping to discuss/let me loose my mind' for which I am incredibly grateful. A few random observations from this time through, as I attempted to view it through the lens of the entirely WoT uninitiated (as my friends are)-
The group shots, where the camera passes from one of the Emond's Field 5 to another, do this clever trick where Rand is never actually standing on his own. He's always standing beside or behind someone in one of these shots, so the camera doesn't actually have to cut or pan away from someone else to get to him. This serves the purpose of highlighting him in contrast to his friends, but also to subtlety downplay his presence to the audience, and build up to the Dragon reveal in episode 7 very effectively.
The cinematography in general is so exceedingly rich and delicious- the stark white of the Whitecloak camp contrasted with the bloody reality of their actions. The bright primary colors used to make the Aes Sedai visually pop and feel magical and strange, even as they are dressed (for the most part) practically for their traveling (a complaint I had about the Witcher, aside from everything being brown and grey all the time, is that the mages show up to battles dressed in ballroom dresses instead of you know, clothing that would make sense). The subtle use of lighting and camera angle to create a sense of vast isolation of Shadar Logoth, fear and danger in the Ways, and cramp sweltering heat in the Blight.
Moiraine's opening narration in episode 1 is essentially a summary of the information we get from one of the epigraphs at the ending of the Eye of the World prologue, to whit:
"And the Shadow fell upon the land, and the world was riven, stone from stone. The oceans fled and the mountains where swallowed up. and the nations where scattered to the eight corners of the world. The moon was blood and the sun was as ashes. The seas boiled, and the living envied the dead. All was shattered, and all but memory lost, and one memory above all others, of him who brought the shadow, and the Breaking of the World. And him they named Dragon." - Aleth nin Tearin alta Camora, The Breaking of the World, author unknown, the Fourth Age "The world is broken. Many many years ago men who where born with great power attempted to cage darkness itself. The arrogance. When they failed, the seas boiled, mountains where swallowed up, cities burned, and the women of the Aes Sedai where left to pick up the pieces. These women remembered one thing above all else, the man who brought the Breaking of the World. And him, they. named Dragon." - Moiraine
This makes me suspect their was an earlier version of the script that actually used the epigraph (maybe even both of them). I have mixed on feeling on this, as the epigraphs are one of my favorite artistic choices of Jordan's and really help emphasize the history and depth of his world, but I think filtering it through Moiriane and making it slightly less opaque was a smart choice to convey the information to the audience. I also think this works on a character level as well- here is Moiraine's understanding of this information, shaped by her biases.
Every re-watch also makes me more and more comfortable in my 'the show is a future/past turning of the wheel from the books, the broad events and truths being the same, but seen in one of those endless variations we hear about' interpretation of the series. The heart of the story and characters is the same, and the broad strokes and framework are the same, but it's in the details where things emerge as different. This interpretation has the benefit of fitting really really well with the meta-narrative stuff Jordan always liked to pull, and in freeing I think the show expectations of being a one-to-one recreation.
That said I defiantly felt the cracks in the final two episodes as a result of the Covid shutter and loosing Barney Harris more strongly this time- some of that being that this is my first re watching of season 1 since I've seen season 2. You can practically see the things they wanted/planned to do that had to re-worked because of circumstances beyond their control. Mat's absence in the group argument scene (and the 'I am so tired of you two fighting over her' line that was clearly meant to be Mat's), as well as the lack of bigger/more cohesive battle scene in Tarwin's Gap. You can also tell they hadn't quite figured out how they where going to re-work season 2 yet given that the ending for season 1 had to be changed last minute (for example, their is no reason for Moiraine to just outright admit that she released Lan's bond unless they hadn't yet decided that was where their arc was going yet).
I think the show does an exceedingly good job of structuring it's exposition to the un-intiatited, trying to stagger it so that audience is largely learning new things in pace with the characters. I know people where frustrated that things like the War of Power have yet to come up in earnest even in the Latra and Lews scene, but I think the slow and steady reveal of things matches both the core idea of 'their is always more you don't know', and trying not to overwhelm the audience. My friends had no trouble following what was going and picking up the bigger implications/subtext that underpins a lot of information. 'But why did the Dragon try to cage the Dark One? It doesn't seem like it was that simple.' came up a few times especially.
The detail that what jump-starts Perrin's wolf brother connection is having his wound healed/cleaned by the wolves in that scene from episode 2 is so incredibly clever, and a good twist on the traditional 'werewolf bite' mythology.
I love the deliberate choice to incorporate so many random ruins and remnants of things in the background of shots. Not just the 'dilapidated stone buildings' that the characters camp in, but things like the trio of carved faces that Egwene and Perrin run past while fleeing the Whitecloaks, or the boundary stones Mat and Rand pass on the road, or even just the small carvings and pillars scattered about the cave where they are holding Logain. It all helps to make you feel that ancientness, that brokenness of this world more effectively.
The reoccurring use of the Dragon's Fang to symbolize violence and destruction: the Trollocs using it as a scare tactics, it appearing in the blood in the pool after Nynaeve kills the Trolloc, being burned into Siuan's ruined childhood home....and the way that contrasts with it's use in the finale episode, when we see it whole and unbroken in the seal/yin yang symbol for the first time was really really clever. One of my friends actually gasped out loud and went 'oh' at the first shot of the whole seal when it clicked.
The show does an exceedingly good job of maintaining that core idea of the series that it's about our relationship to violence- violence never being casual or simple or easy, but always raw, hard and bloody and a little bit ugly. EVen subtle things like the way the show depicts Moraine hurling stones at the Trollocs with uncomfortable frankness, trying to literalize what in most fantasy media would be an abstract. Take it from I cast stone 2, to I inflict horrible blunt force trauma on another creature. And of course everything re: Perrin and his ax.
I have more thoughts, but I think I'll save some of them for after we watch season 1, because they relate strongly to stuff from there.
124 notes · View notes