#also it was canted angle and i love canted angle shots

[nibwhipdragon]

SECONF is Caesar crushed salad

Uhh the Zeppeli, the pancake guy, hm. My headcanon is that he's bi but is so epic cringe fail about it. I do not know how to elaborate further but he's just pathetically bi. You understand. Do I make sense

Sometimes I headcanon him as trans, sometimes I don't. Depends on how I feel tbh, like wanting poached eggs over scrambled eggs if you get me

Tried out a more "normal" artsyle compared to the Joseph one. Sadly there is no Monster Hunter in this one (I SHOULD HAVE DRAWN HIM WITH SOULSEER MIZU CAESAR FUCK)

Gave him lil' claws because he deserves them <3 have fun not having opposable thumbs!

Most proud of the lighting on this one tbh

[razzafrazzle]

literally my favorite aspect of sock opera is bill calmly but repeatedly failing to buckle his seatbelt. like its funny enough that Bill Cipher of all people is putting on a seatbelt but its so funny that he keeps fucking it up. but he's still just smiling like a dumbass the entire time

[gloryy-vs]

aonung x shy and tiny reader

pls i live for protective aonung 😭😭🙏 they'd be childhood friends and grew up decided that they will be mates eventually

My Mate

characters: ao’nung x na’vi reader

ratings: sfw , fluff

He always had at least one hand on you, or an arm wrapped around your waist. Ao’nung never let you leave his sight. Not much changed between you two since you were younger, he was always looking over you protectively. A running joke between your parents and his was that he was your personal warrior. Ready to spill blood for you when the time comes.

“Ma Ao’nung, come help me add a bead to my songcord. Let’s get matching ones for the Tulkun’s and their return!” You said happily, not noticing that you were interrupting his time with his friends. He didn’t seem to care, a smile creeping on his face while he got up. Ao’nung saw the two seashells in your palm, a soft grey color with a pearly coating.

As usual, he placed a hand on your lower back, turning you around gently as he spoke to his friends. “I’ll be back later. We can go hunting.” They rolled their eyes playfully, making it clear that this was an almost everyday occurrence. You flashed them an apologetic smile, they didn’t hold it against you anyways.

You excitedly explained to your mate about where you found the shells, a bit deeper in the sand, so it took you a while to find one that was similar. “Come! Let’s add them now.” You said happily, practically skipping to your shared Marui with him.

Ao’nung had a big smirk on his face, sitting down first with his legs spread apart. You grabbed your carved box with weaving materials and other beads before sitting between Ao’nungs legs with your back against his chest. You both unwrapped your songcord from your wrists, finding where the latest bead was placed and unknotting the end. He moved his arms to wrap around you, and he placed his head on your shoulder so he could see what he was doing. You loved any kind of physical contact with him, feeling his heart beat, the way his breath tickles your neck just barely.

You wrapped the twine and string around the silvery shell, securing it with a knot at the end. Your attention shifted to how Ao’nungs fingers worked so intricately, tying a knot at the end of his own songcord. He brushed a few stray strands of your hair from your face as you turned around a faced him at an angle. You held your wrist out, wanting him to tie it back for you.

“You always do it just right. Not too tight, not too loose.” In all honesty it’s because you also couldn’t tie it with one hand.

He laughed, already knowing the real reason. His hands were warm against your cooler skin, and his eyes shot ip to look at you while he tied a small bow for your songcord.

“You’re cold. Cmere.” He said, tapping away at your wrist to let you know you can put it down. He wrapped his arms around you, squishing you against him.

Rolling your eyes, you fought for him to let you go. “Cant, breathe!” You said, but he refused to budge.

“You’ll be okay.” Ao’nung said, looking down at you. His eyes stared at all of your feature for a brief moment, taking everything in.

“You’d make a perfect Tsahik.” He said, as if he was lost in thought still staring at you.

Your mouth was agape, a flustered expression covering your face as you looked at the future chief. He ran his fingers through the parts of your hair that weren’t braided, his other hand resting on your hand and caressing your palm softly.

“We should officially mate, before Eywa. I want you to be my Tsahik.” Ao’nung suggested, but the tone in his voice suggested that it was more of a demand.

You stiffened but slowly relaxed, knowing he would be with you each step of the way, even if it was a big responsibility and a important thing he was asking of you. You nodded, and a smile grew on his teal face.

“I must go ask your father permission to court you, come. We don’t have all day.” He said, giddy over the fact everything would be official between you two as soon as you mate.

[ja3yun]

who do you think in enha would love to receive a buodoir album of their girl as a birthday gift?

!warning nsfw (mdni)!

i think jay would love it the most. he always adores to see his girl dress up in pretty clothes and he'd like it even more when they're dressed down. you would do it after he bought you a pretty set of lingerie for your birthday, so now for his you're putting your present to good use. you would have a setting that was clean and elegant, white sheets with a sheer robe to start with, posing in all his favourite positions he liked to fuck you in. you wouldn't go bare naked but elude to it because jay likes that the best, when you tease him just enough to make him want you.

when you give him it on his day once everyone has left the dinner party you arranged for him, you'll leave him alone to flick through it while you put on the lingerie and robe once again, waiting until he flicks the last page before sleeking your way into the bedroom, taking the book from his hands and throwing it to the side.

"how is it? your present?"

his eyes trail up your body lustfully, taking in the beautiful sight before him as his hands grip your hips and force you onto his lap. "i love it, baby. i love it so much. you're fucking sweet to me." your nipples stand at his words and he cant help but latch on, biting them through the lace bra and his tongue swirling gently.

he would roll his eyes as you giggle, his cock throbbing in his pants at the sound. you know he loves you but you will never understand how much he craves you, worships you in every way. he will cherish the book and look at it on days you're away or simply because he loves you so much and he is so happy that you trust him to own something like this.

rest under the cut

_____

heeseung would adore that you thought of doing the shoot specifically for his birthday. he knows that people do this for their partners but considering you're quite shy, he never imagined you would strip down to nothing. sure, maybe a nightie or something sheer but never fully laid bare. you would sit nervously next to him as he looked at it, judging his expressions as he turned the pages and viewed the one of you arching your back, legs long and hair fanned out, he would shut it over abruptly, making you worry. but that worry soon turns into shock as he grips your shoulders and pushes you down onto the bed

"fuck, baby girl, you have no idea how much i need you right now." he would whisper into your mouth as he kissed you, grinding his hardening cock onto your core, "i want to put you in all of those positions...would you let me?"

he sucks on your neck and bites down, causing your back to arch just like the photo. he's smirking as he marks you up, his hands trailing your sides before dipping into your heat.

"i'm gonna make you cum for each photo in that book."

-----

jake would come with you, asking you to do it for him. he had a particular lingerie set in mind, the one you wore for your anniversary and he hasn't seen you in it since, so what better way to get it some sunlight? his puppy eyes did wonders for convincing you, not that it took much, you'd do anything for him. jake is the kind of man to worship your body no matter size or shape so you have never felt uncomfortable in your body around him.

however, what he didn't realise is that partners don't get to watch the shoot but are sent away while it happens. he pouts, hoping to help you with poses and angles, he even brought a change of lingerie for you to mix it up a little. you're also sad because its his birthday and you wont be spending the entire day with him like you promised, but it just means you'll work extra hard to produce the best pictures for him.

he'll hug you goodbye, nuzzling his nose into your neck, peppering kisses softly, "thank you for doing this, princess."

nodding, you kiss him gently on the lips, stroking his cheek, "i'll even throw in a few surprises."

and those few surprises are naked shots, tits up with your arms losely drapped over your head, your eyes shut. as soon as he saw that picture, he whisked you back home, tying your arms above your head and telling you to keep still as he eats you out, his tounge lapping you up eagerly, that beautiful nose of his nudging your clit each time he burried his face into you. the photoshoot was everything he asked for but having you wriggling under him is even better.

-----

for sunghoon, i think he wouldn't want anyone to see your body other than him, female photographer or not. so instead of you going to a studio, he set one up in your bedroom, hired lighting and used his own camera to take the pictures. he left the setting up to you, to add the element of surprise you wanted to gift him for his birthday.

"take the robe off for me, babe, face the wall." he would take his job seriously because you really wanted to do this. he had an air of professionalism about him that was akin to jack drawing rose.

you look so beautiful though, that he cant keep his hands to himself, helping you unclasp your bra, reaching around to squeeze your tits playfully, kissing down your neck as he presses his chest to your back. "how about we take some behind the scenes pictures?" he would whisper seductively.

and who are you to deny him? you lay down on your bed, legs spread as he grabs the camera, snapping a few pictures before slippinging his cock from his trousers, knowing that pictures aren't enough, he needs to fuck you so good that the faces you make are the real shots that make the book. he pounds into you though, forgeting the camera and giving you the attention you deserve, even if it is his birthday.

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

MOOOREE SHAPES!!!!!!!!!

Since the last one was so fun I thought I would do another!

ASL shapes post

I’m begging and pleading you to look at Keep Reading 👇

Shape language is defined as “a concept used in art and animation to communicate meaning based on shapes we are familiar with” (source). This concept uses circles, triangles, and squares to convey an idea of the “personality” of the design without using any words.

In designs, using circles and rounded edges in your silhouette and detailing gives the design a soft and squishy look. They tend to be harmless, approachable, or changeable.

Designs using squares gives the design a solid, sturdy, and strong look. They are supportive, reliable, and inflexible

Lastly, triangle designs are sharp and directional. They are dynamic, dangerous, and unpredictable.

Here are the main silhouettes I used! I'll just go down the list here since theres so many of them

(edit from me after writing all of this down: ✨Drinking game!✨ take a shot everytime i say either square or rectangle. You'll be dead by the end. Anyway, enjoy!)

⚔️: Even in his base design, Zoro is essentially a giant rectangle. He's stable, reliable, and supportive. but even though he is all that, i think he definately deserves some triangle imagry so i tried to squeak one in there.

🍊:Nami is her own breed of triangle. She's not unpredictable, per say,, just very very hostile. and I love her for that. but she is also very reliable, she has to be for her job. So i award her 2 triangles and a square

🌱: you may notice a trend by now that everyone has a square. that's because every one of the straw hats are all hella reliable, and thats not excluding Usopp. Even though he feels like he's not cut out for the awful situations he's often in, he somehow always squeezes by victorious. But also, he is friend shaped. so he gets 2 circles and a square.

🍳: Similarly to Zoro, Sanji is also just a gigantic square. His torso is the main box, but his les are always in a position of stability, closely resembling a square. But also, his head is soft and round, portraying his kindness. As such i award him with two squares and a box-y circle.

🩺: just.. i mean just look at any picture of base chopper. HES JUST A GIANT CIRCLE. He got a big ol' noggin, a round body, and two little stick legs. he deserves a square though, so I gave him a square for his feets.

🔎: Robin has the same shape layout as Sanji. She is also very reliable and very kind. where she differs though is that she still has so much mystery to her, that i still tried to incorporate triangles as smaller details in her design. Two rectangles, a circle, and many small triangles. She has the range.

🛠️:Franky is a gigantic square with almost no non-square angles to him. he has his shoulders, his glasses, and his crotch that are not quadrilateral and of course that signifies how reliable and stable he is. Cant knock this cat over. he gets 3 squares.

🎸: Brook was a bit hard to pick which shape would be his majority, so I didn't. He got all of them. He's polite and kind, but also mischievous and full of surprises. And of course. Square attributes. one square one circle and one triangle.

🌊: For Jinbe, I... yes, the guy is a gigantic square, but also he's just kinda always doin shit that I don't expect him to do, so i think he also deserves a triangle. I dont know how i would add a third shape in him since his gigantic square body takes up the majority of his figure, so i just used two. One square, and one triangle.

And that just about covers all of them! if you read all this, thank you so much for listening to my ramblings!

[acuar-io]

Advice on how to achieve aesthetically pleasing gameplay photos!

UPDATED: 4/22/2024

I made this post earlier today and people were interested in the comments! Which made me more excited to make this post~

this is just some advice from me! this isnt a tutorial or anything of that sort, but I will be linking some things that could be helpful for editing gameplay! :D

First things first, I want to say that I use a graphics overhaul, lighting mods check my resources page for what reshade i use if ur interested.

I use these lighting mods & graphics override specifically:

sunblind

graphics overhaul

Lotharihoe's ootd* curseforge download :)

Northern siberia winds in-game better lighting mod (bright base)

these are some other lighting mods you can try out as well!

Luumia's NoBlu & NoGlo

these are some other lighting mods like sunblind

how to install lighting mod

I just wanted to add these things in since we're talking screenshots + I wanted to share for the no reshade ppl <3

Now we can move on to the advice!

I love the simple style of gameplay editing so much, but for me I love creating an ambience with my posts and put the audience inside of my gameplay. I also enjoy storytelling with gameplay more than just the "usual" gameplay post (when it comes to me). I am currently playing the globetrotter challenge with my sim Daichi. I really went all out with the editing for that gameplay. For this one its very much a virtual collage of my sim doing things. Trying new things and getting inspired by others is always fun and cool! Remember when u do take inspo: link to the inspiration and @ the simmer that inspired u!!

In my other save (my cozy save) I also take creative liberties there.

its more of a cozy vibe & silent story-telling (storytelling w/o the dialogue). for my cozy save i take inspiration from @/stellarfalls. er gameplay really helped me find my niche thing in the way i play the game tbh!

Angles/Screenshots

When you're taking your screenshots, angles are important. Depending on the shot, you're putting emphasis on a specific thing. This post is very helpful and talks about different types of angles/shots and what they mean. Check it out especially if you want to play around with the way you take screenshots!

Here’s some editing tips from @stellarfalls !!

simmingstars editing tips

Reshade

If I want to create a moody or dreamy ambience I can use reshade. Looking for a reshade that will fit the overall vibe is a must or you can make your own~

i know not everyone is able to use reshade because they're not on windows. I highly recommend using photoshop actions to create that ambience you're looking for.

*These can be used in photopea, but it cant read topaz clean. If you want to achieve topaz clean in photopea, check this post out! just something i'd like to add in case people are new to all of this + dont use photoshop. Lastly, I want to say if you decide to edit photos on photopea, it does tend to crash if you upload a big number of photos and slows down. I usually upload like 6 or 8 and then save and repeat the process. Its kinda annoying, but ive been using photopea for a while now so im used to it. My mac users, use early-grapes butter action if you want things to look cleaner and less harsh!! + the other ps actions down below. I used these a lot when I was a mac user. Of course, that comes with extra steps, but I feel its worth it in the end.

I like these photoshop action packs bc theres tons of stuff in here that can help create a reshade like look:

intramoon's ps action dump

wooldawn's ps acton dump

smubuh's photoshop actions

early-grape's butter action

hazelminesims's ps actions

Templates!

I loveeeeeee templates so much!! theres so many out there to use for gameplay. It really adds more to gameplay posts! This can be dust/dirt, film burn, that cute camera template etc etc. templates are really fun to use and play around with~

I usually go on deviantart to find templates to use! if you want to check out my deviantart account you can find it here! I favorite a lot of things I can use for gameplay screenies.

Gifs

making gifs is cool because it brings the gameplay "to life" ~

EZgif is a free website that converts videos to gifs. You'll need a recording program like OBS (which is also free).

i like making gifs when i want to capture a (cute) moment (kisses, hugs, cooking etc etc). Its also cool to capture the weather in game like when its snowing or raining.

Little details

Some people really go all out on editing gameplay posts like adding hair strands and adding more details to sims faces (catchlights, tears, blushing, etc). You dont really have to do this, but I want to mention it anyways! I want to try doing this at some point because I enjoy editing my gameplay posts/photos in general and adding tiny details is fun to me lol. It adds realism to posts, but it isnt necessary!

Procreate is a really good program that you can get if you have an ipad. its 10$ and thats, that. You dont have to make any payments. You can also animate on procreate too if you're down for that!

Find inspiration in other simmers!

the sims community on tumblr is filled with such talented people! Theres lots of gameplay simmers who dont do your typical gameplay posts that you can check out and learn from!!! Ive always struggled with getting the right angles when taking screenies. I looked at other simmers and how they take screenshots & it was really helpful for me since I noticed I would take too many over the shoulder photos on my sims lol.

I think thats all the advice I have! I hope this was helpful and if you have any questions please send me an ask or dm! :D

[skywlker-sluvtt]

🎥 with ani? I CANT GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD.

OH MY LORDY LORDY ANI MAKES THE BEST SEX TAPES CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE (pornstar!ani in a different universe I'm not kidding)

also mentions of hardcore porn below please don't take anything I write super seriously, I'm just being gross <3

anakin x fem!reader 18+ below the cut nsfw emoji ask game

🎥 filming or making a sexy movie

✧ anakins a freak as i discuss in every single post I make about my baby boy

✧ and when he pulls out a camera and suggests the idea it doesn't even shock you. i mean at first, you think he just wants to film something vanilla until he brings out the props. cuffs, a bit of rope and a gag. he wants to make a hardcore porno with you, in the grossest way possible.

✧ he wants to get the angles right and everything making sure to put your body on display for when he rewatches it.

✧ the shitty camera quality really brings out the porno vibes in it and anakin loves it, the more realistic the better I guess. he likes to record you sucking him off while he talks dirty to you. (bonus points if you got messy makeup on) that's his favourite thing to wank to at a later date.

✧ next he ties you up against the headboard and films every inch of your gorgeous body. maybe you're gagged too if you're into that. he takes a few different shots of him fucking you. pov shots and from the side. when he watches it later on he loves pretending like it's actually happening. seeing you from different angles is also a treat for him. seeing his pretty girl from another point of view is his favourite. feeds those perverted desires even more.

✧ when he's done fucking you dumb and has you drooling all over the pillows he records the cum leaking out of your swollen pussy. breeding kink go brrrrrr

✧ speaking of jizz, he's definitely gonna give you a face load of his cum and take a few photos of the shiny liquid coating your face. if you get lucky he'll set up the camera to watch him lick it gently from your cheeks. it's absolutely disgusting but kinda hot as well

✧ anakin would also never refuse you if you requested to make one where he was being submissive. he'll let you do whatever your heart desires to make him look like a porn star for you. i mean he kind of owes it to you after the shit he's recorded you doing.

✧ when you find the time to you make anakin into the most submissive man in the world. you film yourself sitting on his face and edging him till he's whimpering, drooling and calling you mommy. he'd be a perfect twinky-ass sub for you <3

✧ even though i made this super pOrNy i believe that he'd also film soft sex with you too. that shit makes him horny and feel happy. it reminds both of you how much you love each other when you're apart and it can be really sweet when you catch those intimate moments on camera. especially the quiet "I love you's" you exchange throughout it.

✧ after you finish filming part of your aftercare is watching the video back and giggling together before falling asleep.

[pondering-gales-left-orb]

WHERE DOES GALE LIVE IN WATERDEEP?

do something productive ❌

spend two hours trying to figure out where Gale lives in waterdeep based on an old map and the few shots of waterdeep from his tower cut scene✔️

anyway i think he lives on the edges of the castle ward area near where Grinda Garloth residence used to be and if the map is to be trusted i'd say anywhere in the sail street to dock street area

according to this map this is castle ward which also contains the blackstaff tower too

and according to the view outside of Gale's tower you cant really see any clear visible walls only a start of a mountain

so i think this is the only area that has indication of rocks that can show up directly in front of Gale's balcony

also a very faint wall can be seen beyond the mountain which backs up this location

now in the second shot of waterdeep outside of Gale's balcony you see a few docks at an angle and i believe these are one of the three between sail street and dock street

and since the map is from Waterdeep: Dragon Heist which is presumably set in 1492 the same year as the game is set i'd say this is plausible with a few differences taking into account constant building developments (like building new docks, putting up a statue, building a new house/shop) that can happen within a year

i found this other map too and i think its here

anyway that was a fun little activity i love fantasy maps and could get lost in them for hours! keep in mind i can be wrong about this especially since we only have two scenes from the game to go of on

sources : 1,2,3,4,5, and Gale's Romance Cut scene from Bg3

[spookberry]

Shadow High series 3 my new beloved

I didnt even like most of em until i saw them in person, but the knowledge that they'll probably never be in the show has my brain in a "well its free realestate" kinda mood

Random list of information cuz ive been plotting out friend dynamics and background lore

-i like to pretend Rainbow High/Shadow High are actually Rainbow University/Shadow University cuz im in art college Right Now and i think it makes more sense with the whole dorm room situation. And also major makes more sense than focus IMO

-I changed Pinkie's major from film to just undeclared. I think she eventually does land on Film. She just has a lot of interests! Her dream has always been to one day direct films, and I think she comes to love them even more while developing ideas her with the group as she winds up in a Director/Producer position for most of them. BUT also every time she takes a class in a different program she cant help but fall in love with that way of making art too. So she has a hard time picking for a while and changed her major a couple times before landing on Film.

-Pinkie and Berrie bond a lot over a shared interest in vocal synths (tho Berrie knows more about them than her).

-The two made Pinkie's vtuber model together!

-the fandom wiki says PJ is from germany?? Idk how canon that is tbh but ive decided to embrace it i guess

-Rooney's canon name is Scarlet Rose, but i thought it was kinda lame especially when Rosie Redwood is also in this line sooo I renamed her! Stuck to the color name puns tho. Mar Rooney. Maroon. Haha

-Speaking on her though i love that shes from texas and likes writing scifi mystery type stuff and that being said i just Know deep in my bones that she was a Voltron Legendary Defender fan and Keith was/is 100% her favorite. She has a continued fondness for mothman specifically cuz of this.

-PJ and Rooney actually talk about fandom and shows/movies ALL the time. They dont have a ton of overlapping interests, but where they do? The two literally never shut up.

-Rosie is such a random character, like outside of her design she feels very poorly considered. So I scrapped the cosmetology thing and made her an illustrator instead! I think it works better with her love of making art in nature. I can see her being really into illustrated guide books. I think shes a bit snooty when it comes to art too. It takes being friends with other artists to become more open minded.

-I like the idea that Rosie is mainly friends with Rooney and Berrie ontop of that. The three of them often tag team storylines and how theyd interpret them into different mediums. Rosie will draw up a bunch of concept stuff while Rooney writes up a pitch bible and Berrie will start making shit move and throwing in her own ideas on camera angles and character designs.

-as an animation major Berrie was required to take a sound design class early on, which is where she met Oliver! Hes very laid back, and likes to go with the flow, but functions a little like the "mom" of the group. Often reminding the girls to take breaks, drink water, stop looking at their screens lest they get eye strain etc. He's multi-talented tbh but Music is his one true passion and he likes how the girls are always giving him collaboration opportunities.

-Oliver and Rosie like to talk sports a lot, both having played a bunch when they were younger and throughout high school.

-Lavender Lynn is Oliver's number one "person who needs constant reminders to settle down" she is in a constant buzz of trying to get the best shots and is utterly obsessed with the process of artistic documentation. Everything must be documented.

-the whole school loves her for this actually, she has a whole side gig where other students hire her to help photograph their projects. She saves everything she earns from this for her future dream plans to visit paris. She has it set really, many of the artists who she helps photograph now will remain steadfast clients of hers forever onward.

-PJ and Lynn actually took a print media class together at one point. Which didnt at the time spark an everlasting friendship. But it did give PJ an easier in to ask for Lynn's help documenting a project the group was working on. One of Lynn's first times photographing them work happened to fall on a day where Rosie had planned to trick everyone into going on a nature walk sans devices... Lynn wound up really appreciating this outing and decided to continue hanging around the group even after that project had ended.

[yeahtimesten]

18+, mdni / maybe modern!au or 2019!patrick if you want tbh idk but smartphones r involved

you and your friends are out barhopping on the city strip, you’ve already hit three different places and you’re ordering at least two drinks per place. you and the three other girls you go out with are rowdy and obnoxious at this point, definitely wasted. and your shared ‘locker room talk’ with the besties is something so perverted, so nasty. but they say drunk words are sober thoughts. and the topic at hand is something probably every woman universally agrees on.

yeah, dick pics are gross and all, but: “nut vids with the sound on,” you’re cackling at your friends proclamation. “those get me freaky. like wet wet.”

“dude, yessss, that’s what i’m sayinggg,” another friend agrees.

and you’re laughing along. but really, you had never received one. you knew the meme, and you saw the appeal, but you had never seen one.

don’t get me wrong, you and patrick are still gettin’ it on over the phone and video chat, doing everything else possible to bridge the gap that distance brought you. being a tennis player on tour, working up to the big leagues, was something you wholeheartedly supported for your boyfriend. to keep morale up, you even sent him a gift box once complete with polaroids, a spicy letter spritzed with your signature perfume, and a pair of worn panties, baby pink and silk with a lacy little trim. you liked to treat him like that.

and he treated you too, with new panties and outfits he wanted to see you in and other miscellaneous gifts, and good dick too whenever he was able to come around and see you. but when you got to thinking, you realized a majority of the gifts he gave you, were really a gift for himself as well. yeah, he’d jerk off to you on video calls, but it wasn’t for you, it’d just be weird if his cam wasn’t on when yours was too.

another round of shots were had before the four of you were making your way to the next bar, the last stop of the night. and you were trailing behind your three friends, typing on your phone to him. partially because you are ovulating, definitely because you were drunk, and you were a tad bit in your head now too thinking about the things patrick could be doing for you, but you were going absolutely feral in his dms.

babyyy wen r u gna see me next :(

i miss uuuu hehehe

need ur hand around my neck while u finger me NEOWWW

and he’s receiving all your texts with fervor. you’re totally exciting him and arousing him. but hes crossfaded (on tour? smh, but he’s celebrating a win as well as the end of this leg of travel) out with other players that he’s met so his replies are just as desperate and sad and pathetic as yours.

soon gorjus

be there b4 u kno it

cant wait for u to take my dick

send pix ?

and when you get to the next bar, you immediately excuse yourself to the bathroom, locking yourself in a stall, posing with your shirt lifted. your perfect tits are exposed to the camera, and because you love and trust your boyfriend, at least half of your face is still in frame too. your lips are slightly pouting, and you know that detail will drive him mad. and you snap another, but this one is an underskirt shot; you standing up in the stall, with your panties pulled down over your mid thighs, also in frame, from behind at the perfect angle to showcase your ass, with a hint of your pretty pussy in frame. and you send both to him in a photo set.

earlier, you sent him more innocently posed but still quite sexy outfit photos and selfies before going out. you did this every time you left the house basically. it was both endearing and such a huge turn on for him, no matter how you were dressed. your outfit was especially scantily clad tonight, so he was already having dirty thoughts of you. he was supportive of what you wore, and was never really controlling, but he wished he were by your side protecting you from other creeps who’d love to sneak a peak. and he had already fantasized about taking you to a dingy bathroom in one of these dive bars you frequented that he saw in the background of your photos, and bending you over the sink and fucking you from behind, both of you watching in the mirror.

both of your data connections were shitty, but he was texting you that he was heading home. he couldn’t wait any longer and needed to get off to you now. and he asked if you were going home any time soon.

another shot, and nursing a midori sour, or whatever your drink of choice is, you and your friends are still chatting and having a wild time, but you’re having flashbacks to the last time you both were together. you remember him boring into your wet cunt, on top of you, in the back of your car at the airport, because you couldn’t bare to part without one last fuck. your thighs squeezed together, trying to dismiss the warm pit forming in your stomach.

you were relieved when one of your friends decided to call it quits, and since your apartment complexes were so close to each other, you decided to share an uber. as you two waited for the ride, you finally received his texts and confirmed you’d be home soon too and that you two could call and take care of each other. and on the ride back, while your friend is talking your ear off, you check your phone again to see a snapchat. patrick sent you a video.

without thinking, you clicked on the notification to see what he sent. and now who would have guessed, that in this moment, you’d see a video he recorded of his cock out, laying in the dark on his bed, his flash was on. his dick glistened with his spit, as he slowly started stroking his shaft and playing with his tip. in a panic, you lock your phone and stuff it back into your purse, face flush with embarrassment.

your friend looks at you with furrowed brows. “you okay?” and you nod, hoping she hadn’t taken a good peak at your screen.

“i’m fine,” you smile. you’re more than fine, you’re seeing stars. and you’re anxious to reach home. after what feels like an eternity, you’re finally there. you skip up the steps and and climbed the flights of stairs until you reach your floor. the anticipation is getting the better of you as you fumble with your keys. but finally, you’re inside and it’s oasis. your place to be horny and out of control.

you flop on your bed and reopen snapchat, 5 more segments of that video waiting for you to open. you turn up your volume to max. in next clip of the video, he’s still taking his time stroking slow and you can hear his breath hitching, yours matching in real time. his breathing is heavy and loud, as little moans and groans escape his lips.

i fucking love you baby, he says in the clip. i’m so fucking hard for you.

and you’re so wet for him, as you reach down and start rubbing circles into your clit above your underwear. the video keeps going, and he picks up the pace, his moans getting louder. you love how he isn’t silent in bed. he’s so vocal and sweet, showing you he’s enjoying it just as much as you are.

the next reel starts, and he is fully jerking off, his breathing getting faster. you know what’s about to come. him. and with one final guttural groan, he does. glistening white cum leaks out gently, and he continues to stroke, much slower, making sure to milk every last drop.

r u home yet baby ?

he texted you.

- ya

and immediately, you have an incoming facetime. you answer and the camera is pointed to just his face, still sitting in the dark.

“hey, princess, how was your night out,” he asked.

“it was good,” you said. “i accidentally opened your snap in front of my friend though.”

“i texted you to wait until you were home to see it,” he laughs at you.

you didn’t receive that text. but you were just stunned he practically read your mind, that you wanted exactly that video.

“i missed you.”

“how much baby?”

“so so much, i couldn’t wait to get home and talk to you,” you pouted.

“me neither,” he whispered. “i’m hard again, baby. wanna see?”

and before you answer, he’s pulled his phone back to angle on his cock, with his abdomen and face still in frame. he’s moving it around, teasing you with its length.

“i miss fucking you so bad. do you miss fucking me?” it’s your turn to tease, and you move your phone down to reveal your panties with a big wet splotch soaked into the fabric.

“you really were thinking of me all night, huh?” he’s starting to stroke himself again, and you do him the favor of bringing the camera back and pulling your shirt off. he’s obsessed with how hard your nipples are, and he moans for you.

“your tits are so perfect,” he breaths out. “touch yourself for me, baby. i wanna see you rub your clit.”

and like it’s a royal command, you pull your panties down, and show him your finger swirling around your wet cunt.

“that’s perfect, you’re perfect,” he says.

you’re watching each other get off and his mind is racing with things he wants to do to you, with you, for you. and he’s sharing about half of them with you.

“i can’t wait to fuck you again. i can take you out to dinner and a movie, and we can sit in the back row by ourselves and mess around.”

“and you can ride me in the passenger seat of your car.”

“i wanna play with your ass so bad and eat you out from the back.”

“finger your pussy for me, sexy. let me see you fuck yourself with your pretty manicured fingers that i paid for. you’re so fucking wet for me.”

and besides his new request, everything is in one ear and out the other. your sole focus is watching him get off so you can get off. and it’s working, the heat in your pelvis growing stronger, you are about to release any second. you can tell he is too, as his breathing is heavier and his words and incoherent and slurred, he sounds tortured. you move back to rubbing your clit.

“are you gonna cum, baby? i’m going to, i want you to cum with me,” he sighs.

“yeah baby, i’m gonna cum. i’m gonna cum patrick!”

your moans harmonize with each other as you both finish together and you both continue to touch yourself as the tension in your groins lessen. you’re still pulsating for moments after.

“i can’t wait to see you any longer, im booking a flight for tomorrow to see you,” he says, still huffing. and you can’t wait either.

[tinycozycomfort]

rest in the cup of my palms (part one)

pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x art student f!reader

chapter one: drawing from life

series masterlist | next chapter

series summary: you went back to school to find out who you are—to make another leap in the hope of self discovery. when you finally find that first glimpse of yourself, it’s in someone else. what happens when the mirror tries to pull you in? or  you’re everything joel could’ve hoped to find. he doesn’t let go easily.

chapter summary: ellie volunteers joel to model for a drawing class on campus. you find someone worth dreaming about.

warnings/tags: no outbreak, no use of y/n, (for everything) -> mutual pining!, possessive behavior, smut (w individual tags to come), unnecessary descriptions of joel being beautiful, ellie is joel's daughter, ellie and reader attend the same university but reader is in post-grad, age gap (joel is late 40s, reader is not), alternating pov, slow-ish burn, joel miller wins girl dad of the century via unanimous vote (for this chapter) -> masturbation (f), intense feelings of loneliness, existential rumination

word count: 7.2k

rating: explicit (18+ only! mdni)

A/N: some good ol' work up, necessary to explain the rated r plans i have for them. ive been terrified of writing a series but i'm also tired of editing everything down to be one-shot appropriate, so today we try. im full-swing into my fixation era and on my 'i cant be loved + ive known how to love you for 1,000 lifetimes' bullshit. this fic is as self indulgent as they come, but i hope you can enjoy it! and for those of you willing to trudge through this with me, i love you.

read on ao3

“To photograph people is to violate them, by seeing them as they never see themselves, by having knowledge of them that they can never have; it turns people into objects that can be symbolically possessed.”

Susan Sontag - On Photography 

───────

A halo of hot light falls through the pane of glass above the sink. Joel’s got one eye pinched semi-shut, trying hard to focus on not burning himself while he drains boiling water out of a pot of pasta. 

When he woke up this morning, the blinds on every window in the house had been strung up to the lip. He’d barely gotten a hand around one of the strings in the glass frame above the couch before Ellie appeared out of nowhere to literally slap his wrist, ‘I’m drawing’. Still groggy, he tried to challenge her, ‘Do they all have to be open?’, to which she patiently explained—for what she probably feels is the millionth time—that she needed the extra light, and if she had them all open when she started, they’d need to stay that way until she was done. 

So he left her to work, knowing she’s got midterms to finish, walking around with his eyes closed until he felt his way back into his bedroom. He came out once for coffee, and not again until dinner. This is their weekend.

Joel spoons out some of the food into bowls, leaving them to stay warm by the stove before he steps into the dining room. He stops himself half-way, hanging back in the archway to give his daughter another minute as the last shreds of strong sunlight start to wane out.

Ellie’s right where he left her: at the table, cross-legged in her chair with an eraser-less pencil held tightly in her fist. She’s hunched over a large pad of paper, the back of it lifted at an angle under a pile of old books and dog-eared tool catalogs. The sketchbook she uses as a reference guide is propped up on the corner of her left knee, leaned against the edge of the table. She rifles between two pages of it, eyeing some of the quick sketches—visual notes, as she puts it—that she took in class to help her navigate the larger, more detailed version with ease. Silent save for her short huffs of breath, she’s concentrated, wrist-corner lifted to not misplace any graphite. Her process is always the same; a little creature of habit.

She’s wearing her headphones, the cord winding dangerously low, threatening to dip into a cup of water she’d placed in the empty triangle between her lap—the same one he’d seen her with six hours ago. She hasn’t even touched it, still full nearly to the brim. He wonders if she’s gotten up at all. The girl works herself a bit too hard, he thinks, always falls head first into whatever project she’s working on, nothing if not like her dad. The corner of his mouth tugs up so tight it hurts. What is he going to do without her?

He just stands there, feet crossed on top of each other and arms in a twist over his chest, and watches her while she’s not looking, knowing she still gets shy sometimes when he catches her like this. She’s the sweetest reminder of everything good Joel’s ever done; another life he’d gladly offer his own for. 

It’s always come naturally—to be what someone needs of him—in a way that transcends reward or expectation. 

Joel had been his brother’s primary caregiver first, from birth and then well into their adulthood—always around to bail him out of jail or lend him money he didn’t have. Because he cared. Loved him. He couldn’t ever really say it, always had a problem with the wording, but he knew that at least some of what he wanted to explain had come across. He can see it in the way Tommy is with his own family.

His brother has Maria now, and the kids, and seeing how happy Tommy could be in spite of their upbringing was the first time Joel had ever put his priorities into question. Somewhere in all the caring-for he did, he’d forgotten about himself; the possibility of having his own wife and child and home. He’d always ached for that, deep down, but didn’t even know it was an option until he saw it happen. By that point, he wasn’t sure if he could do any of it, or if he even had the time to start. Then came Ellie.

She entered his life when a close friend of Tommy’s had died unexpectedly and no one came forward to claim her, unknowingly giving him a second chance; one he worked to make count. She was tough to crack at first—also like him in that way—but the love had always been there, waiting its turn after all the awkwardness and misunderstanding and adapting before finally showing its face. She’d needed him then, as much as his brother had all those years ago, carrying on the torch of purpose that Joel so feverishly searched for. 

He rolls his eyes at himself; he’s been having too many misty-eyed moments about her lately. It’s so unserious, the actuality of it; of being her dad. Going to work and the supermarket and museums, being there to chaperone field-trips and take one-thousand mostly-blurry photos of her graduation. But it’s been everything to him. He’s desperately clung to the five years of her life that she’s shared with him, and he’s so proud to witness it, but he knows she’s getting to a point where she needs to be her own person. He’ll miss her when she’s only home for summers, then only home for Christmas, then only home once in a while—so he holds on to every bit, and tries not to think about what’s next for him. 

He walks closer to her, tilting his head to try and steal a glance of what it is she’s working on. He catches a glimpse of the face of a woman, a portrait from shoulders-up. She’s pretty, with a soft and thoughtful expression, looking downward off the side of the pad. From what he could make out between the movements of Ellie’s hand, she even looks a little shy. His daughter rubs at the cheeks and nose of the girl on the paper, imitating the shadow-less areas where light would fall. Joel is mesmerized by the way she creates so effortlessly, like breathing. 

Without moving her head, she pulls a tiny white bobble out from her ear, “I know you’re watching me, weirdo.” 

Joel laughs, wet and thick in his mouth with the emotion he’s still climbing down from, “Is this how you treat me when I’m trying to feed you?” 

She smiles, he can see the fat of her cheek rounding out even from this angle, “You should’ve just said that.” 

Ellie leaves her set-up untouched, just getting up and moving down to an empty seat while Joel goes to bring the food out. 

She shifts around in her seat, feet folded again on the flat of it, eating too fast—ill-mannered—and it reminds Joel of all the nights they spent at Tommy’s for family dinner, right at the beginning, back when they’d just begun to become close. When she’d push his patience with her behavior to see if he’d say something, to see if he still paid her mind—he always did, still does, “Jesus Christ, kid. Have I taught you nothing?”

She holds back a laugh, mouth full of tomato sauce, “You love it. I’m charming.” 

He snorts, the two of them falling into a comfortable quiet for only a few minutes before she breaks it again, “Speaking of how much you love me, I need to ask you for a favor.” 

“Oh no,” He jokes, “What now?” 

“Remember those drawings I turned in of you last month?” She starts pushing around the last bite of her spaghetti, never a good sign, but he nods anyway for her to continue, “Well my teacher really liked them. And there’s been an issue with finding people to sit for the drawings. Sooo,” she really drags it out, “I signed you up.”

“What do you mean, you signed me up? For what?” 

“To model,” Joel’s mouth pops open in an immediate attempt to oppose, but Ellie’s quicker, “Didn’t you say you’d always support me in school?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Joel finishes his plate and then they’re both just clinking their forks against porcelain for a heavy eightnineten seconds before she gives it another shot.

“C’mon, seriously. I’ll get extra credit if you do it,” She lets out a long sigh like she can’t believe she has to explain anything more than that, “My professor teaches a Monday session for the master’s program and they need people. It’s just one time.” 

“Ellie. It’s Sunday. How are you gonna tell me this now?” 

“Please, you just sit there for, like, two hours while they draw you and you don’t have to talk. That’s two of your favorite things. Three if you consider that you’d be helping me out.” she looks at him with a sticky-sweet smile, eyes crinkled—like she knows she’s getting away with it. 

She might be. 

“Why don’t you ask one of your friends to do it?” Joel gathers up their plates from the table to carry them into the kitchen. Ellie picks up their still half-full glasses as an excuse to follow him.

“Because we all have class together tomorrow on the other side of campus. Plus, you’re easy to draw and—” 

“Hey.” 

She ignores the flat look he shoots her, flipping on the sink, “That’s a compliment, by the way. But really, it’s no effort and you’d be getting me into a good place with my professor ‘cause she’ll be super grateful. The budget’s kinda tight this semester.” 

“Then what am I payin’ for, if you’re gonna make me do this stuff myself?” It’s a half-hearted dig—he’s mostly annoyed because she probably already figured out he’s going to agree.

Her little smirk graduates to a shit-eating grin, she knows it, “Best dad ever.”

“You’re a pain in my ass, y’know that?”

“Just because I knew you were gonna say that, I actually signed you up for two.”

───────

Joel stumbles out of the elevator, filing hurriedly through groups of students with a new-found purpose now that he’s managed to make it to the correct floor. Ellie made a point of not mentioning that he had to be at the school at 7:30am until she was saying goodnight to him a few hours ago, because she thought it would dissuade him—she was right—so now he’s running late on top of everything else. 

He’s got the little scaled-down, splotchy-printed version of the campus map gripped tightly between his hands. Room 14B is seemingly only two turns and one corner from where he stands—if he’s holding it the right way. He wants to ask for directions, but he feels too out-of-place to set aside his embarrassment. He’s older than at least half the staff, and some of the attendees are even younger, and he doesn’t want to run the risk of looking incapable, as foolish as it is. He wishes Ellie would have just offered to show him where to go before she headed off to her own class. 

For someone who prides themselves on their ability to parent, he feels hopeless now without his daughter; not for the first time, but it’s especially harsh considering the circumstances. It hurts something bittersweet, to think about how much more they’ve bonded since he started working less and she decided to live at home her first year of college (though it’s coming to an end sooner than he’d like). Again, too many sad thoughts, and she’s not here, so he trudges on. 

He walks in two more circles before he finds the right place—down a fucking hallway and hidden behind a door he didn’t know he was allowed to open, of course. A woman with long, dark blonde hair is sitting at a desk by the door when he enters. She doesn’t look up at him.

“Good morning, ma’am. Sorry I’m late. My—uh. You teach my daughter? I’m here for—” 

“Ellie’s dad,” She cocks her head without meeting his eye, “Late? You’re about twenty minutes early, she told me you probably would be.” 

She knows me too well, the brat. He chastises her in his mind but outwardly he corrects himself, “Yes, right, sorry. I’m a little turned around.” 

“That’s alright. There’s just a waiver you need to sign, and you can get undressed in the bathroom down the hall. I’ll give you a cover-up to wear until I come to grab you.” 

Right, he’d have to be naked. He already knew that—sort-of—having seen dozens of Ellie’s sketches from semesters past. He knows the students don’t see it that way, knows that they’ve all drawn the same things so many times they would be desensitized to his nudity. They’d probably all be desensitized to him as well; in their eyes, he was just a reference, as familiar as any of the memorialized piles of fruit or arrangements of glass that Ellie's also brought home. 

Still, Joel feels a wash of anxiety come over him. He’s more than comfortable in his body, after putting it through so much, but this degree of vulnerability is severe in comparison to vanity or sex—it’s a state of living he hasn’t participated in for a long time. He doesn’t like to be seen, and being documented—having physical evidence of how he’s interpreted by others—makes his stomach turn. He hasn’t looked in a mirror for more than a moment in months, but it can’t be that bad, right? Ellie’s always given him a favorable light, but he worries she has a bias beyond belief. What if he sees something about himself he doesn’t like? What if everyone’s been able to see it all along?

Caught in his thoughts, he doesn’t realize the woman is still talking, “We have a scheduled break halfway through class. You can leave then. Next week it’ll flip and you can come for the latter half so they can finish.” She slides the form and a swath of black fabric across the table, and almost like she can sense his apprehension, finally raises her head to give him a meaningful look, “Thank you again for doing this. I know it can feel weird, but it makes a difference for them. There’ll be a joint show at the end of the month, too, with Ellie’s class.” 

He just offers her a little nod of his head, thank you, signing the form and padding to the bathroom to unceremoniously disrobe in an empty stall.

It’s just two hours. 

───────

If they make you take another figure-drawing class, you’re going to scream. 

You’d think this far into a second degree, the school board would stop requiring you to take what is essentially the same class every semester. Sincerely, the only thing that changes is how long the session runs and what number follows the class title. It’s getting old. 

To be fair, it’s not necessarily that you dislike drawing—it provides a pretty firm foundation for your personal work to stand on—it’s just tedious. Nothing is inspiring about assignment-based work, especially when they’ve decided the only way you can prove your skill-set is to make you draw the same three objects five-thousand ways. 

But it’s not up to you. 

So here you are again, two weeks from spring break, back in this frigid building after surviving another forty minutes of traffic, body still stiff from fighting the urge to fall asleep at the wheel. 

It’s important, you remind yourself, to show up and put your fullest effort into everything, no matter how much you don’t enjoy it. Even if just to prove to yourself you can still finish things.

Coming back to school was an idea you’d toyed with for years after graduating. 

There had been a lot of pressure on you to go in the first place, from your parents and your teachers and your nightmare of an ex, because according to them you’d get nowhere without it. After enough pressure and in a need to appease them, you folded and went; suffered every long night and pushed through every period of self-doubt and smiled for every ‘worth-capturing’ moment right up to the end. And then when it was over, gone faster than you could comprehend, you felt like something was taken away from you, even with how low it had made you—the worst kind of stockholm syndrome. 

In an attempt to keep some momentum, you were over-eager for more right out of the gate. There was an initial need to continue, because you’d been reliant on academic structure just by the nature of familiarity, and maybe a little ill-prepared to face who you were without guidance. Without the instruction of someone with two degrees and a smoking addiction and no teaching license. Now it sounds silly, but then you spent a few too many nights uncontrollably looking into post-grad institutions or internship programs, googling professors and reading forums for first-hand accounts. 

Then, after a year, the thought of continuing got a little less exciting, and you became comfortable in the freedom of nothing after being in school your whole life. So you pretended to research, emailed everyone about how great the options looked, signed up for one-on-ones you didn’t show up for—until people stopped asking. 

It was at that point that you finally had the time to process what you were doing and why, and accepted that you didn’t have to have all the answers, despite what everyone had led you to believe. Truthfully, you still had no idea who you wanted to be and that’s okay—living with it and living alongside it weren’t mutually exclusive. You just took time to practice being yourself—sucked up the embarrassment and did the work, little exercises in unleashing yourself onto the world instead of letting every experience be done to you. If you were going to do anything anymore, even something like continuing your education, it had to be on your own terms, to try it all in the effort of self-discovery.

So yes, applying and getting accepted and attending every class—even this one—this time around was for you—to better yourself instead of just filling an expectation. You’re determined to make good on the opportunity.

And it has been better, so far. You even have friends this time around. Okay, two, and one of them is your roommate, but it's more of a support system than what you had going into undergrad.

You say yes now, too; not to everything, but to more than before. Which is maybe how you got roped into getting ‘introductory’ drinks later this evening with everyone, now that more people have joined the program as winter thaws out and it’s easier to commute. It’ll be nice to swap ideas and catch up and maybe even get laid instead of spending hours staring at the ceiling and willing time to pass. That thought alone is enough to keep you here.

It’s just two hours.  

The room this semester is a little bigger, at least; probably the only perk that moving up so gracefully from Drawing II to Drawing III had earned you. It’s still unfortunately just another classroom; windowless to protect it from outside influence and drenched in fluorescent light to create a controlled environment. Old, stained art horses form a circle in the center of the space, crowding around a painted-gray wood pallet like an audience. A metal stool sits atop the make-shift stage, providing a seat for the subject. It’s clinical, the way the elements come together; a perfectly disarrayed scene that’s been neatly curated to emulate every ‘socratic seminar’ model you’ve seen in education since you can remember. Always the same.

You’re hoping for someone new today to rest on the chair; the department has been in less-than-preferred financial standing lately, so you’ve seen the same faces interchanged for  most of the term.

Your professor is at her desk when you make your way in, greeting you with a grin despite the tired look on her face. A hardworking woman, the shadows under her eyes gave her a beauty you could only explain as determined. You knew she cross-taught for both sections of the department, and you respected her for it. It couldn’t be anything short of a struggle to toggle between those modes of seriousness—to have the patience to answer the younger students’ unending questions and the passion to keep the post-grads engaged. 

Moving to get a seat as far on the outskirts of the cluster as possible, you watch as your classmates arrive slowly until all the slots are filled. No one really talks, probably all similarly bogged down by the early start and the cold weather outside. Ian, your friend who’d invited you out tonight, waves at you from four horses down and you halfheartedly nod back at him. 

“Good morning everyone, we’ve only got two more classes after this until your week off, so we’ll make this next one a two-parter and have critique on the twenty-first. I want you guys to focus on composition more than anything else,” She turns in her seat to write some names on the board behind her, “We’ll go for two hours then break. If your name’s up here we’ll have a conversation about your thesis. The rest of you can go.” 

Thankfully you’ve been spared this time—granted another seven-nights-straight writing the segment of your thesis that was meant to be finished two months ago. Your brain hurts inside of your skull. 

You set up your little station, sketchpad raised against the easel, body straddling the drawing horse as you fiddle with some dirty erasers in your pack. 

You can hear the slap slap slap of the model’s feet on the concrete floor as they enter—a long gait paired with hard, thudding steps; probably a man by the sound of it. Tall and heavy. 

“Okay guys, we’re starting,” She winds up the dial on a plastic kitchen timer and sets it on the edge of her desk, “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be making a few passes throughout and we’ll exchange thoughts.”

You roll your neck, knowing the model tends to take a minute to find a comfortable position, and that people watching didn’t do anything to help. A tempered soundtrack—the poorly contained buzzing of the clock and the moan of the air-conditioning—plays on in the background. Your leg is asleep. It’s cold in here. You count to thirty in your head. That’s enough time, right? You shift again, stretching your arms once more just in case.

Looking up, you peer over the side of the easel to get a quick look at the model’s pose and immediately do a double take. 

It is a man.

He’s sitting on the chair, facing the girl a few seats down from you so that you can only see him from a three-quarters view. He has one long, thick leg pushed against the lower bar of the stool, the other one, closest to you, hiked up on the seat, folded so that his knee points towards the ceiling. His arms are crossed, hugging his erect shin with his wide back wrapped over his thigh, effectively shielding the ‘naked’ parts of him from view. He looks shy, but not uncomfortable; either like he’s done this before or he’s accustomed to protecting himself—to hiding. 

The frame of his body is captivating; he looks strong but used, little nicks and scars littering his shoulders and hands. Weathered. As you make your way up his torso, you find it’s a similar state of experienced, tan profile and neck bearing the slightest difference in color from the soft of his side, and you can see the faintest curve of a hem-shaped tan-line across the dip in his shoulder. Little wisps of gray-dusted brown curls frame the edges of his face. He’s beautiful in a gentle way, with a dark, heavy brow that leads into the sharp slope of his nose, plush lips pursed like he’s concentrating. 

Part of you feels bad about staring, but it’s easy enough to disguise it as working, so you map him with your gaze again and again until you can still see him when you blink. It takes the constant movement of your classmate’s hand sketching something in your periphery to remember you’re being timed. 

You choke out a cough, repositioning your body and grabbing some charcoal. 

The way you usually approach this task is simple: get down the general gist of the body, careful to keep out the details of the person in favor of capturing light and weight—there’s a graded challenge to be considered, after all. 

Yet as you watch him, you decide you can fulfill the requirements in a way that gives him more room to exist. You crop the drawing tighter, paying careful attention to the landscape of his face; the hills of his cheekbones and the valley between his lips. You want to immortalize him. 

You’re suddenly deeply concerned with the history that’s woven itself into the shape of him, in what happened to make him look this way. It seems like life has been useful to him, but that he’d had to grow from something to make it so—like he had to work for it. He’s the living manifestation of his own grief and enjoyment and passion, and you want to know all of it.

Countless minutes pass as you take him in and spill him out, fingers moving quickly to recreate the weighted feeling of his posture, exhausted and heavy, muscles held together on the string of bone that runs through the center of his back. You write him down, again and again, flipping to a new page half-way through to get in one last version of him—one for yourself. 

You’ve never seen him before, but you see part of yourself in him. He mirrors the anxious peace you’ve been operating under for the last few years, humming with energy but willfully stagnant. It makes you feel seen, less burdened by your recent inability to connect—he makes you want to keep trying.

You wonder if he writes or draws or makes, and if he’d show you. You want to hear him talk. You want to see the other side of him, literally and metaphorically. You want to feel—

The tinny ring of the alarm sounds off, and you’re taken out of the fantasy. 

The second drawing is only really half done, but you didn’t make it with the intention of sharing it anyway, so you flip back to the original to hide it.. 

You try not to watch the man when he stands—remembering that just because he’d been hidden before doesn't mean he wasn't naked the entire time—maybe more for your sake than his. You peek around the room instead, taking a healthy, albeit competitive, glance around for other interpretations of the man; did they see him too, the way you do?

When you look up to take a comparative look, he’s gone. You’re a little disappointed, admittedly, but there’s still one more chance to interact with him, and you can make up for it then. You start to pack up your things in an effort to make it to the parking lot before the crowd. A sudden rise in the volume level in the room tells you that the shock of the early morning has started to burn off. You try to tune it out, so much so that you don’t hear someone walking up behind you. 

“Wow.” It’s a man’s voice, deep and smooth. You pivot in your seat. 

It’s him, in all his communal-robe wearing glory, even more gorgeous from head on. It’s a pleasant surprise, this reveal; his beauty is evenly distributed, like a handwritten note that extends into the margins or when a movie’s ending is just as good as the start.

“Oh. Hi. Thank you.” You feel exposed, like you got caught doing something bad, even though there are ten other people in the room with even more detailed portraits of him.

“Can I see the other one, too?” 

“What?” 

“You flipped your page. I didn’t see anyone else do that. Did you make two?” 

You just nod, shocked that he was watching you back, peeling back the paper to reveal to him the unfinished drawing. He won’t question it if you don’t give him a reason to. 

“Are you gonna finish it?” He asks, eyes rolling over it with an intense curiosity.

“Uh, probably not. I don’t like it as much as the first one.” Maybe lying your way through this would provide better reasoning than ‘I wanted a part of you that no one else could see’.

“Can I have it?” 

When you can’t find something to say fast enough, he just continues.

“I’m sorry, is that rude? If you’re just gonna get rid of it, I’ll take it. It just… looks like me. I mean they all do, I’ve been told I have a ‘simple face’,” He coughs awkwardly in acknowledgement of his own tangent, “I just mean to say that it feels a lot like me. If that makes sense.”

“You’re actually very visually interesting.” Is the first thing you can think of, and fuck, did that come out really fucking wrong, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe it’s better if he takes it, if it’ll stop you from fumbling, “But yeah, you can have it.” You pull a little plastic mail-tube out of your bag, ripping the drawing free from its perforated tether and rolling it in on itself. 

The edges of his mouth pull up, a cute little thing, free of laughter or judgement, “Thank you. I’m Joel.” One of his hands drapes across his stomach, palm spread over the knot of the wrap—he’s holding himself at length again. Why? 

“Hi Joel. You seem to know a fair amount about this whole thing. Not your first time, then?” You offer him your name in return, and he parrots it back—guard still up, still standing too far away. 

“It is, actually. The closest I’ve come to this is sitting in the yard for my daughter,” He watches as you slide the drawing into the cylindrical case, “You’re very talented.” 

“Thank you.” It feels weird to hear the praise twice, “How’d they get you to pose for no money? I heard the department’s a little strapped. I’ve been subbing in for the undergrads too when I can.” 

“My daughter volunteered me, she’s on the other side of the program. Your teacher was giving out extra credit.” He takes the roll when you pass it to him, going out of his way to grab it from the middle, his thumb grazing yours. Your skin heats up where he’s touched it, and you look down at the floor, suddenly nervous. 

“Wow, this is the first time I’m hearing anything about that.” You continue to pack away items into your bag, “I’m owed quite a lot if that’s true.” 

His face falls in on itself in a wince, “Oh. Didn’t mean to do her in like that.” You can feel him looking at you for a few beats too long, and his eyes narrow like he’s about to say more. 

In the same moment, as if summoned, your professor turns on her heel, walking over to your bench. 

“It’s okay. I’ll be okay without it. I’ll see you next week, right?”

He shakes a little, releasing his stare, and throws a thumbs up in your direction with his protective hand, “Yeah, see ya next week. Nice to meet you.” 

───────

After another four-hour class and a too-long nap and a break for dinner, everyone from this morning joins together in a few cars to head to a bar downtown. You meet up with Ian, who offered to drive as a bargaining chip, because he knows by now that you’d back out if you had to show up on your own.

The bar is dark and divey and perfect for being overly-observant in secret. You’ve warmed up to this crowd enough, but you’re still on plus-one basis with a lot of them, Ian serving as your invitation. You like to just listen to them at first during these outings, strategically planning your involvement so you don’t feel put on the spot when they give you a turn.

It’s a lot like being in class; the group of you occupying a dimly lit corner, a round-table of bodies, with the person in the center alternating as the topic changes. Tonight you stay at the furthest end.

You cling to the single tequila soda you ordered, watery and flat by now with pea-sized ice chips bobbing around in the center to avoid the heat of your fingers. You watch them swim, tipping your cup to see them swirl in a frenzied circle until they disappear. 

Some guy from your English class—Andre or Andrew or who cares—is talking at you, making his best attempt at what you think is supposed to be flirting. It’s really just him asking your opinions on his five favorite books, not hiding his disapproval when you mention you haven’t read one or the other. 

You watch Ian, who left you twenty minutes ago in search of the bar-top for another drink. He’s caught now on his third conversation on the way back, maybe thinking he’s doing you a favor by taking his time. You try relentlessly to catch his eye instead, and he bounds over without question when he sees you. The glass of wine in his hand is already half empty, and the English-class-guy spooks at the sight of what he probably thinks is competition. So much for that.

“Having fun?” he prods when he slips in the chair beside you, already aware that you are absolutely very much not having fun. 

Ian’s a nice guy, and he means well. You met him a week into your first semester—almost a year ago now—at orientation, because your last names were the beginning and end of the line of their respective letters. He was from somewhere in Canada, studying photography with a minor in painting and drawing. He’s maybe a year or two older than you, though you’ve never asked to confirm; tall and long and pretty, for lack of a better word, with big eyes and a permanent split in the little bangs that cover his forehead. He’s the first man in years you’ve been comfortable around, never initiating anything or pushing too hard for your friendship. All in all, no one’s been as welcoming to you, except the person you literally live with, and you’re happy to let him drag you out if it means he’ll continue to look after you the way he does.

“Of course, when have you ever known me to have a bad time?” 

“No luck with Adrian?” Adrian. You were close.

“Just likes to hear himself talk, I think. I wasn’t interested in being an audience.” 

He hums, “Someone else on your mind?” 

“Like who?” You lean the lip of your cup against your mouth.

“Saw you making eyes at the model today,” He teases, nudging you in your rib when you take a sip of your drink so that you keel over slightly. You sputter, unamused with the tactic to get you to fess up.

Was it that obvious?

“Isn’t that the point of the class?” 

“Yeah maybe, smartass, but that’s not what I meant. I saw him talking to you, saw you give him a little gift,” He bobs his eyebrows at you suggestively, “Excited for him to come back next week?”

“So I can stare more, you mean?” 

“So you can get his number.” 

“Ian.”

“I’m just saying you should try and find someone outside our section of the building. No writers, either, obviously.” He gestures to where Adrian is already trying his shtick on some girl from your class.

“He’s a little too old for me, don’t you think? His daughter goes here.” You muse. He’s mostly right about you needing to expand your reach, but you won’t let him off that easily.

“Maybe. But if you don’t care, and he doesn’t care, what’s it matter? He’s not too old to fuck you.” He makes a face and you roll your eyes. 

The thought is nice, but you know forging relationships is unlikely when you’re concerned, at least as of late, “I don’t want to spend my night talking about people I’m not going to fuck.” 

“Whatever you say.” He slinks out from his seat, mumbling something about a glass of water. A few steps away, he looks back over his shoulder, “You’re not doomed, by the way,” the asshole can read your mind, “You can enjoy yourself without feeling guilty. You’re allowed to like people.” 

And then you’re alone again. 

It’s like that for another hour, small attempts at chatter and meetings until you realize you’re too tired to fuck anyone, let alone continue to sit upright. Being up so early this morning took more of a toll than an hour nap could fix, and you're begging Ian to take you home. He agrees, spending the trip trying to plan another outing later in the week before everyone’s gone on vacation.

You give him a sleepy goodbye when he pulls into your apartment complex, making sure he’s still going to class tomorrow before letting him drive away. Once you’re inside, slipping quietly in through the front door, you realize your roommate isn’t home. She’s probably still in a late class or at her boyfriend’s or somewhere else. You enjoy the quiet enough to not think about it too hard.

The five sips of tequila-mostly-water has settled into your stomach by now, making you a quarter-second slower when you strip all your clothes off and climb into bed. 

You twist under the sheets, and after a while your skin starts to feel too hot, even in the cold air of your room. Breathing deep, you try to think of something boring to get your mind to still, but when you sense the sleep about to take over, it switches.

You see his face behind your eyelids, the man from today, strong and pretty and delicate, remembering all your favorite details—the length of his fingers and the depth of his voice. You curse yourself for assigning this importance to him. He’s just another page in your portfolio, if you even keep him, yet you can feel a slow heat bubble up at your core when you remember the stretch of his body under the robe. It’s okay to be taken with him, you think, he’s objectively gorgeous. 

Your conversation with Ian replays in your head—less about his sincere advice and more about how you need to get laid. It’s been too long; maybe you are just horny, and maybe taking care of it just this once could be enough to stop this hollow interest from growing. 

You reach a hand down under your blanket, the tips of your digits pushing into the slit of your cunt. You’re wet, arousal tacky and pooled so much that the light pressure you meant to be exploring with is enough to have you accidentally slipping inside. Okay, he’s really hot. So what? Was it really that bad if you thought so?

You dip a finger further in, timid at first; you’re used to keeping quiet for this kind of activity, and even though your roommate was gone when you got here, it doesn’t mean she hadn’t come in in the thirty minutes of rolling around you’d done before giving into your desire. You lay your free hand over your mouth just in case, teeth biting into the meat at the base of your thumb to keep yourself quiet. 

You slide in a second finger to the knuckle to join the first, the light stretch of it enough to make you pant. You see him again, hard and soft and beautiful. You think about what his skin would taste like, if he’d let you sink your teeth into the sinew of his neck. It feels weird to know what he looks like without his clothes, and you’re weirdly proud of yourself for holding back from seeing him fully; it's easier to dream about that way. You wonder how he’d present himself to you, how he’d want to fuck you. You imagine him winding a hand around the hinge of your jaw, fingers pressing hard into the soft of your cheeks. Would he be gentle? Would he make it hurt? You suspect either would be too much. You feverishly palm your clit, hips canting in an effort to climax. The pictures flash faster—his cock in your mouth, his tongue in your cunt, the way he’d spit and grip and hold—and you’re coming, drooling over your hand as you hear him say your name in your mind. 

You take your hand away after a minute, breath pushing out heavily from your nose. It’s fine, you needed to do it, just one time. No shame in that. It’s out of your system now. 

And if you see his face one more time before you fall asleep, it’s probably an afterthought.

───────

By the end of the week, you come to a horrible conclusion. 

It starts the next morning when you take your sketchbook out, itching to get a handle on the many writing assignments you’ve been dutifully ignoring, hoping for an outline or a free-flow of ideas. Nothing comes to mind. You draw a little bit to fill the space while you think, just a mess of material on the page, strokes of your hand that leave barely anything behind. 

Then on Wednesday you’re at your laptop, typing with one hand while the other one slides against the wood of the dining table, down and around in a loop, mimicking the same shape each time. 

And again last night in the shower, letting the shame of a different semi-failed night-out wash over and off of you. You slosh your foot around in the water in the basin below, catching it as it runs down and pools, ankle dragging in a tiny, controlled movement. 

It’s not until now that you put it together.

You’re sitting at your desk, with creative materials at your disposal this time, trying to make sense of what it is you’re forming. You find that no matter the medium, your hand automatically makes a single hard line. The same line, from memory. It’s negligible at first, just a light press of pen or pencil or crayon, until it drags down, down, down. It’s not until you lift your utensil that you recognize it. The hook of a nose and the crest of a top lip. 

A hard pit forms in your stomach, blood draining from your head to gather in the center of your chest, a blooming sickness of obsession you haven’t felt in a long time. You’re drawing him. You’ve been drawing him. You know this feeling, have participated in this kind of behavior. These are the actions that cause the humiliating dregs of attraction to bleed over into fixation—juvenile and universal and unavoidable.  He’s going to be a problem.

[majorproblems77]

Hi, Linked Maze fans! It's me again!

Ohhhh boy we are cooking and I am excited. Let's do a late-night ramble with yours truly

When I tell you I looked at these panels for a reasonable amount of time I was lying and it was longer than that.

Now a link to the comic page can be found Here! Please go give it some love :D

For the important stuff!

Linked Maze belongs to @linked-maze and its wonderful creator @frulleboi. (You should follow them, they are wonderful) And as a heads up, Linked maze is for more mature audiences! :)

As usual, you know the drill, Grab some water, Grab some popcorn and prepare for me to ramble at you for however long it is!

Here we go!

Oh lordy it's the sun (you'll see why later.)

He sniffin. Sniff Sniff

Now, Everyone remembers the first rule of exploring. Dont run off! That includes you Wolfy!

Now I have a theory. Which I'll come back to in detail later. But just, Remember the shadow behind four for me. We'll get back to it.

Warrior is the group Dad at this point. also, I love this side shot of him thank you.

Also

Warrior. Speaking to Wolfie like he is a kid rather than a wolf.

WARRIOR KNOWS SOMETHING IS UP YOU CANT CHANGE MY MIND

I dont think It'll be Sky. I think it'll be a hero we haven't met yet!

We interupt this comic analysis for unhinged analysis :D

Ready? Me too, lets go

Because, that shadow?

this one?

I dont think it's wolfy, It can't be.

Wolfie's shadow has a definition to it. It has a shape.

You can see the outlines of his tail, which is what we would see if it were him.

Where this one is a blob. Closer to a person.

Ie Winds's shadow

the blob

In fact, if I had to give you a position for Wolfy right now. It's not there. Let me explain.

Shadowssssss

Remember the sun? (Me too, I miss it;-;)

The sun can tell us a bunch about time and stuff. But also where a person is (Because fun angles and maths that I know way too much about tbh)

Anyway

So Wolfy's shadow hits another wall

This wall looks flat so it can't be a corner. (Taking the grass as reference)

And his face isn't shadowed at all, So he himself isn't behind a wall. He's approaching one tho. So in this case I reckon Wolfie isn't visible at all to wind and Warriors at the point Four turns to them.

So who is this mysterious shadow?

It ain't angel. No way.

I reckon it is another Link group. And we are either going to meet the last of the Links we are yet to meet. Or we are pulling groups together.

You know what....

I think it's World or Spirit. And we are gonna see these guys interact before they meet the other larger group of heroes.

Though im leaning towards Spirit just because of the shadow's shape. (And the lack of Sheerow)

Let me know what you think because I'm not 100% sure and I'm interested in what you think.

Okay ramble over, but to be fair that's why your here right?

Oh windddddd

the poor boy

I feel so bad for him he didn't deserve this. He probably tried to open his eye cause he was excited. :(

:((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

The boyyyyyyy

He's trying to be a strong hero in front of these other heroes again. This poor kid i feel so bad for him.

ALSO THE EARS :(

They have expressive ears and it kills me to see wind sad like this.

AHHHHHH

BIG BRO WARRIOR

I LOVE HIM

And his little ear lower of worry for the small I love him sm okay.

Excuse me?

bhdjlhsafdnsajkfndas;nfdas

You can't leave it like that

Where's wolfy

Wheres four?

Will the small boy ever not be in pain?

I have questions!

Ahh okay okay I loved this update it was very fun. Im excited to see what's coming up in the next chapter.

Thats all from me!

Have a great night all! :D

[apieceoftoastedbread]

i just finished working boys. holy shit??/pos

mentions of show spoilers under cut

SO. welcome to my ted talk. i just finished working boys. what. the. FUCK. but like in a good way. i loved it! i watched it with my dad kinda and i was giggling the entire time. i love rob as hidgens but if hidgens was anyone else BESIDES jeff i would have honestly not felt the same about it. jeff did great in the whole thing.

also, RUTHH!!.., MY BABY💔💔 SHE DID NO WRONG. IT WAS HER DEBUT☹️ she did great and i loved the few seconds of screentime she had.

the people in the audience were also making my tism alarm go off. if i can recall it was bill, ted, officer bailey, ms mulberry, richie, grace, gerald, linda, and brenda? those are all the people i can remember. seeing richie and grace go to see ruth actually made me go crazy i love them all SO MUCH. i wanna take richie and shake him. Ted was being a little asshole as always/pos. poor bill was abandoned. AND GERALD AND LINDA? oh my god i love them. i have a love-hate relationship with linda except she doesnt know who i am and would spit on me and i love her but also need her to suffer. I wanted to take the scene where him and linda are cuddling and just stay there forever. officer bailey made me laugh but also how is that man a cop. he just handed grace the gun?? ALSO GRACE IS SO BADASS BUT SHES CRAZY?? SUPPORT WOMENS WRONGS!! she started saying sumthing about the lord and i got chills.

the dead workin boys?? that was so sick what??

LIKE?? JON ILY YOU SCARE ME SO MUCH/pos. THIS WAS A JUMPSCARE BUT A GOOD ONE.

I LOVE THIS TOO? I FOR THE LIFE OF ME CANNOT TELL WHO THIS IS BUT THEY LOOK SO SCARY AND SICK I LOVE IT

RAHH I LOVE THIS LOOK. I LOVE HOW THEY ARE ALL COMING OUT OF THE MOST UNNATURAL PLACES.

OH MARK YOU SCARE ME SO MUCH MY UNSETTLING LITTLE BABY❤️ PLEASE NEVER SHOW UP AGAIN

THIS IS SUCH A BAD ANGLE BUT ITS STILL SO GOOD?? THEY ALL LOOK SO AWESOME

IDK IF ITS ALL MAKEUP OR CGI OR A MIX BUT WHOEVER DID IT DID GREAT.

THE MUSIC WAS AMAZING. LIKE IDK IF THIS IS ON SPOTIFY OR NOT OR IF I GOTTA UPLOAD WHAT I CAN FIND PRIVATELY FOR MYSELF. STARKID I LOVE YOU.

ALSO THE UNCANNYNESS OF PROFESSOR HIDGENS LAST WORDS BEING “i cant wait to get home to my boys..” WHILE BEING SHOT AT BY GRACE. HE JUST WANTED TO IMPRESS HIS BOYFRIENDS ☹️

uhm uhm im gonna shut up now because my brain is being overwhelmed by over analyzing this but please please please talk to me about this

[live-emotion]

Live Emotion Review from 4Gamer Part 1 - Rhythm Game

Lots of new info and images.

4Gamer has released a full report detailing the gameplay experience of Live Emotion. You can see their full report in Japanese on their official website.

Part 2 - Story Part 3 - Home Screen and MiniPri

Song Selection:

Some of the initially available songs are:

My Cutie... Drive me Crazy - Lv14, Sing attribute (pink icon).

OVER THE TOP - Lv16, Sing attribute

Michibiki Hikari - Lv12, Charm attribute (yellow icon)

KIR☆MEKI EMOTION - Lv19, Sing attribute,

SONG LETTER - Lv.17, Dance attribute (blue icon)

GLORIOUS ANGELS - Lv16(?), Charm attribute

Maji Love 1000% - RAINBOW STAR ver.- Lv14, Charm attribute

QUARTET☆NIGHT - Lv.??, Sing attribute.

At the bottom left of the image are various filters and search functions for songs. On the right are details for the selected song. In this case displaying the members that sing Kirameki Emotion, buttons underneath to check your ranking (the other has kanji I cant make out, potentially 'completion rewards'), and the option to swap between MV options (detailed later).

Song Difficulty:

Each song has four difficulties; Easy, Normal, Hard, and Expert.

Each difficulty has different amounts of lanes that notes will approach on. 2 on Easy, 4 on Normal, and 6 on Hard and Expert.

The song's 'Lv' refers to how hard it is in the chosen difficulty. For example, a Lv19 song on Hard will be harder than a Lv16 song on Hard.

Music Video Options:

Shots from each group's Live Emotion Theme Song MV showcasing alternate outfits. Likely from an initial set of Normal or Rare Pieces.

Not every song has a Music Video (MV). For songs that do, you can choose between:

2D/No MV - A static stage background. Or, in Live settings, the player can set up to 7 still illustrations as the background so you can still look at your favourite idol (presumably like this Kira above?)

Normal 3D - Unknown. Possibly a static front facing camera version of the MV.

Rich 3D - Also unknown, but maybe this is the versions of the MVs we've seen so far with different camera angles.

Clearing Songs:

Clearing a song with an MV unlocks Live Viewing, allowing you to watch the MV whenever you like.

Clearing any song will also reward you with materials needed to level up Pieces, and raise the Level and Affection of Emotional Pieces used.

It will also add a stamp to a point card called the 'Music Card'. Once the Music Card is fully stamped you can unlock a new song and the Music Card will reset. There will be different amounts of stamps added to the Card depending on conditions met.

[romchat]

Director Deep Dive: The “Feminine Gaze” of Zeng Qingjie (A Familiar Stranger, Butterflied Lover)

What does it mean to film something through a “feminine gaze”? 

Unsurprisingly, this is a tough question to answer. In filmmaking, the feminine gaze is usually offered as an alternative to the “male gaze” or the ways movies and tv depict women as passive sex objects. Although filmmakers and scholars disagree over the definition and even value of the term, I like to think that, in its most basic form, the feminine gaze is visual storytelling that subverts or redefines how gender looks on screen.

I think one director whose visual storytelling often taps into that feminine gaze is Zeng Qingjie so I thought it would be interesting to discuss some of the stylistic choices that make his work unique.

I first came across Zeng’s work via the short dramas A Familiar Stranger and Butterflied Lover.

What struck me about these two fantasy romances is how different they feel despite having relatively standard plots for their genre. Both dramas are dreamy and refreshingly sensual and intimate. They touch on taboo topics like menstruation, abortion, and the dangers of pregnancy while also quietly challenging traditional gender roles. But most interesting to me is how they center their women protagonists not just in the plot but in the way the camera captures their image. These are women stories and it's evident down to the cinematography.

Style Element: Subjectivity

For instance, Zeng's visual storytelling often uses subjectivity.

Subjective cinematography is when we the viewers see what a character sees or feel what a character feels because of the camera’s position, movement, lenses, etc. It’s considered a critical feature of the feminine gaze because it forces us to recognize the thoughts and feelings of women characters who are often overlooked in traditional media.

Zeng adopts several cinematography techniques to put the audience in the mind of his women protagonists, and together these techniques encourage us to empathize with them, especially in their darkest moments.

One of my favorite examples of this is an early scene of Butterflied Lover.

In the drama, Tang Qianyue, the FL, has been infected by a poison that turns people into monsters known as "butterfly slaves". Qianyue knows she has been infected but to appear normal in front of her loved ones secretly suppresses her monster form. One day, however, she begins turning into a butterfly slave against her will.

As seen above, the scene of her transformation consists of many long shots that showcase the full horror of her monster form.

But the scene ends with a close-up of her face, the camera lingering on the anguish she feels at her body betraying her. Look at how the camera keeps her face in focus but her claws blur with the background, her blood-red eyes hidden in shadow. Zeng wants us to understand how she feels in this moment, not what danger she presents. She might be a monster but we feel pity for her rather than hate or disgust because of the humanizing subjectivity of the camera language.

(Side Note: I don't think it's an accident that most of the infected people shown in their butterfly slave form are women given that monsters in media often symbolize the unknown or uncontrollable elements of the feminine experience. It makes me wonder about the role of female monsters in Chinese myth and whether there are parallels to their patriarchal meaning in Ancient Greek mythology.)

I think another good example of this humanizing camera language is in the sexual assault scene of A Familiar Stranger.

Unlike many shows that depict sexual assault in an erotic way (i.e., filmed to make us sexually excited about a woman’s powerlessness and nakedness), Zeng uses a combination of close-ups, shallow depth of field, and canted angles to make us feel the violation. With the intimate but disorienting effect of these camera techniques, we feel Shi Qi's duress but also clearly see her attacker's abuse of power. We feel what she feels and therefore have a better understanding of what it's like being a woman trying to navigate the world. It’s an awful moment but one that doesn't objectify or visually disempower her as a character.

Style Element: Sexuality and Feminine Desire

(Side Note: Woot woot pregnancy sex)

Zeng also challenges the ways women's bodies are typically objectified on screen by how he portrays his characters' sexuality. In his dramas, women aren't sex objects but instead subjects who experience sexual desire and express their sensuality.

I love the intro of A Familiar Stranger for this very reason.

The show opens with the camera languidly panning across a line of bare legs and scantily clad bodies, their owners posed seductively. It’s a stereotypical example of the male gaze reducing women to their bodies.

But then Zeng's subverts this male gaze when he has one of the women look right into the camera in a subtle fourth wall break.

According to filmmaker-critic Joey Soloway, such moments are an example of "returning the gaze" and are a way for women characters to articulate how they feel about being seen as objects:

"When a female character breaks the fourth wall, they acknowledge the reality that they are being watched and are refusing to remain passive in that. Instead of being gazed upon, they remind us of their agency by directly addressing us and giving us insight into what they’re thinking and what emotions their actions are being motivated by." (Mariel Cipriaso)

Through this technique, we learn that the seductive performance is not for the benefit of some man on screen (or in the audience) but instead themselves. These women, who also happen to be sex workers, are posing for a portrait as a cheeky way to celebrate their own beauty and sensuality divorced from the services they provide male clients (with some sapphic undertones to boot!).

They are in control of the camera not the other way around. 

Ultimately, these are stories where women find pleasure, and the intimacy scenes reflect that.

Everything is softly lit and impressionistically shot as if the characters are lost in the haze of their mutual desire. The use of close-up and extreme close-up shots further play with our senses, giving us the tactile feeling of skin on skin, breath against breath. Unlike stories filmed through the male gaze, Zeng’s camera doesn’t reduce his women characters to body parts and mere receptacles of male desire—they’re active participants who desire and enjoy their partners just as much.

And what I find particularly interesting is that the scenes don’t just “center” these women’s POV but instead show how sex (and touch more broadly) is a vehicle for emotional intimacy and the impact of that intimacy on their male partners. (That hand flex below is giving Mr. Darcy.) Sex and physical intimacy between men and women is transformative not exploitative.

In these two dramas, women aren't objects of desire that men use for their own pleasure but instead subjects who are seen as such by the other characters* and, most importantly, Zeng Qingjie's camera.

(*Side Note: See @well-dressedwords' excellent analysis about the ML in A Familiar Stranger. His intuitive trust towards the FL is an example of seeing her as a subject. He doesn't recognize her for superficial reasons like beauty but her character, which he was able to glean when they first meet and she saves him--hence the title A Familiar Stranger.)

[fallinginaforrest]

SPOILER WARNING FOR WORKIN BOYS, I BREAK DOWN MY FAVOURITE SHOTS. SPOILERS WILL BE HERE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Okay here's my opinion:

Curt being the DP for Workin' boys is the best thing that coulda happened to it. There are so many choices that were made during filming that just absolutely heighten the level of comedy. It's shot like a Mockumentary almost? The shakycam and the randomized movement? As someone who wrote a Mockumentary last year, I can only dream of pulling off a film like this.

A couple things I wanna point out:

-the minuscule push in on Hidgens when he realises he won the workshop competition feels very office-ey.

-the cut back to MK's amused face had me WHEEZING

-the pan over to Paul as be reminds Hidgens to remember the changes

-"apparently a musical about six men bonding on a football field isnt 'of the times..."'etc, this line right here felt like a talking head, I appreciated it.

-those time cards eg: "Rehearsal #2, 28 days until opening" lent itself so much to the documentarian feel of it.

-"wow, what an auteur", not a camerawork comment but I appreciate the joke for all of the film and theater theory studiers

-the "rehearsal montage" I love a good meta joke.

-even in this montage, the camera is never really onstage. At all. Like, it's always situated off to the side or in the audience, and then zoomed in, the documentarian is trying to capture all of the action on stage instead of trying to make us feel immersed in the rehearsal process. We're not really aligned with any of the characters, we're an audience, and we better stay that way. For our own sake.

-and then this dynamic totally changes, and shifts away from the mockumentary feel

-but I'll get to that in a second

-henry is almost always by himself in the shot. I think the one of the only other times that the entirety of another character's face is seen alongside Henry's (I mean, both faces are CLEAR and uncovered in the shot) is in the two shot of him and Paul's stage manager in the rehearsal montage. He is totally singular in his experiences with this show! He is not one of these girls, if anything he is opposed to them. And this becomes clearer later, but it's a nice seed to sow, establishing that he is not in a collaborative mindset at all. The only other time I can think of is him and Zoey behind the curtain, even then, the only time both of their faces are actually IN the shot is when they're behind all the workin' girls. There's probably more but ykwim.

-also the sheer number of times that Henry is off centre in the shot with just a bunch of space surrounding him.

-okay after "two week notice" or whatever tf that song is called (Kim sounds amazing as always) is when the style shifts. It feels less like a mockumentary and more like this sort of voyeuristic peek into Henry's psyche. I LOVE IT.

-the fact that he is never shown in the shot with the workin' boys! It makes you absolutely feel like he is just talking to the air around him (this is hatchetfield so who knows, either way its unsettling)

-we get aligned with ruth, for the first time, we see the audience from the perspective of a character, not just from a stage POV

-the camera roll!! We don't get a full rotation but we feel dizzy and unsettled when we look at ruth, which is exactly how she feels!

-camera roll close up on Zoey. Uncomfortable, unsettling! Rests in a canted angle before continuing to roll on Hidgens! Who is centered in a low angle shot! We don't see the axe until he brings it up to his face! He is not only in a position of power here, but revealing the axe only when Henry makes it clear he is gonna kill them makes it clear that he calls the shots! We've departed from the Mockumentary style completely, as if this was never a documentary to begin with, more like we're flies on the wall or spirits in the theater or omniscient eldritch beings... anyway-

-long shot of Henry dragging zoey's body, no footage of them being killed, aligns us with the audience

-our friend the camera is getting shakey again, the chaos is in the process of ensueing

-THE PULL OUT SHOT OF GRACE WITH THE GUN. I GASPED. I KNEW IT WAS GONNA HAPPEN AND I GASPED. Fun fact on my first watch I thought this was a dolly shot but I dont think y'all are fitting a dolly on the Hudson theater main stage steps, and also the distance is too short so it must have been a pull out. It was REALLY SMOOTH.

-notice, when grace quotes the bible, we are EVER SO SLIGHTLY looking up at her. It gets progressively more obvious the further she gets into the line, but she has the power now. Somehow she always ends up with the fuckin' power, maybe I should convert to christianity smh.

-shakeycam is back again baby!

The creative minds put so much love and care into Hatchetfield, and you can tell that every project is a passion project. People know starkid primarily as a theater company, and that's great and all, but in reality it's an Avenue for all kind of creatives to not only have the opportunity to create all kinds of amazing things, let alone theater, but also have a way to show people. It's moved past being a theater company, with things like Starkid returns and Workin' boys, it's more like a production collective, and it feels like the beginning of a new era. Not only in terms of broadening the way that they Express themselves and be creative, but also in terms of finding a new niche in the industry. Finding a new, wider audience. Because yeah, you're always gonna have people that dislike the new media you produce, for nostalgia's sake or whatever, but beyond that, there are going to be be people that absolutely love what you have to offer. There's no point in trying to revert back to the way it was before, or trying to cater specifically to an audience from an era gone by. How do you grow as an artist if you're always thinking in the past? Starkid is moving in a new direction. The next musical is likely not going to be hatchetfield, but I dont even mind because it's going to be new. New is always good, and Starkid has a bright future.

TL;DR @curtmega you're a literal genius, and starkid is TOTALLY AWESOME