All Wrapped Up (Rick and Owen Breathplay Book 3)
I could feel his hand deep inside my chest. I felt him holding and squeezing my heart. The feeling was indescribable as he ripped my heart muscle out of me! SALondon — Jan 14, If you kiss him and lick him all over and treat him like a girl he turns into a whimpering mess. No need to be shy. Im tiny twink looking for quickies. This means that I love the idea of you being shrunk down and stepped on and crushed. The smaller the guy, the more I like him.
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I would also love to make you watch me step on and stomp model cars or figurines of people. FatStupidPig — Dec 29, dont do it. Godwanted , 21 Highly educated. Impeccable manners. Eager vanilla bottom when motivated. PM for conditions. There was some kind of scandal between him and our French teacher that got the teacher fired. Anyway I just wanted to say this makes so much sense. I guess that makes him a pretty bad model lol. StarlowDelion , 19 I am Skyslayerstar. Aka Starlow Alden Delion. Aka Sky the Neko Slave. So tiring… i want to make this feel an end.
I wanna feel a high love again, feel like i could give all myself to someone again, feel like i could fuckin die again to someone, but those stupid teenage ages…. OldHood — Jan 12, I recommend brainwashing followed by hypnosis, a permanent chastity device, and daily doses of Cialis. I think he loved me too. He looked at me really intense once when he was drunk… i think he was just scared of how in love me he was. I never talked to him, god i wish i had…. Horny — Jan 11, was your first love an unrequited thing for a straight guy?
Enjoy the slaves. With communication having been deemed useless, they hardly speak anything and, even if they do, the talk is restricted to banal everyday expressions. Also Bresson-like is the acting in the films. There are no expressions conveyed by the actors, no giveaway gestures and no easy outlet for emotions. The landscapes, desolate, usually glacial, nearly boundless and seemingly inhospitable, are almost always used as metaphors for a larger scheme.
His compositions are often diagonal, dimly lit and simultaneously embody static and dynamic components within a single frame. Interestingly, his editing is large Eisensteinian and he keeps juxtaposing people, their faces and landscapes throughout his filmography. But since the individual images themselves possess much ambiguity of meaning, the sequences retains their own, thereby overcoming the limitations of associative montage.
But, more importantly, it is the attitude towards his characters that puts him right in midpoint between Tarr and Tarkovsky. This unbalanced dialectic is evident in Bartas aesthetic itself, which employs copious amounts of extremely long shots and suffocating close-ups. In the former, characters are seen walking from near the camera and into the screen, gradually becoming point objects eaten up by the landscape while, in the latter, Bartas films every line and texture of their faces with utmost intensity in a way that obviously shows that he cares for them and the pain that they might be experiencing.
Interview in French. Interview in Lithuanian. Xenia Drugoveyko: You are always making films on the border of narrative and documentary cinema: one dissolves in the other. To what degree is this effect intentional and to what degree is it accidental? I do prefer to juxtapose the narrative and documentary cinema. You were quite correct in noting the dissolving effect. This is what the concept consists of: the relativity of the divide between life and its artistic comprehension.
Or, more like, what we allow ourselves to see and hear. So, it turns out each of us constructs his own internal reality. There is another , unfortunate circumstance common to all of us — the elusiveness of time. Every new minute is not like the one that passed. And more so than even the past and the future about which at least we are sure to possess a set of memories or notions.
In this lies the essence of surrealism in my films: a gradual understanding of the everyday life through the prism of the inner subjective perception. When are they born, during the script writing or in the process of shooting the film? If a metaphor is some intentional expression taking on some esthetically distorted form on film, then what I have happening is the complete opposite of that. A visual image — the reflection of the reality mine every minute one of the imagined reality of the character — a priori contains an expression.
Although, one person will see it as parable, and the other as a very direct statement, read without italics and quotation marks. Because for this person it will intersect with his picture of reality. What does it have to do with? And, admittedly, when it comes to simple things, we are quite unskilled in contemplating them, and in vain are rejecting them as an obvious granted.
To set the pace for a film, the editing tools are not enough; you need a basis for choosing this or other tempo. Same, actually, goes for the other technical details: for example, the currently popular in documentary and pseudo-documentary films shaking camera, shooting with some insane-to-the-viewer angle. How do you compose it? When we technically build the soundtrack, we bump up or turn down this or that element. It creates an illusion that the viewer picked it all up himself out of the usual everyday din. On the other hand, I do have to watch the footage, judging it from a point of view of the audience.
At this point I often feel myself as a part of the life on the screen. Transporting a truck of humanitarian aid from Vilnius to Ukraine, he enters a journey of discovery and sacrifice, crossing borders between countries, between people. A rare film. An absolute masterpiece. Bartas is the greatest filmmaker alive. What would you do? Ideal for viewers who find Ingmar Bergman too loose-limbed or resent the relative humor of Bela Tarr , the movie at least casts a spell with its bleak woodland scenery. The unabashedly private musings may prompt nostalgia for a period of art cinema when self-seriousness signaled seriousness, though one wishes the insights here were less banal.
He pays homage to his genre forebears in a steely, resolutely unflashy style — subtly and ably scored by Alexander Zekke and shot in a cobalt-heavy palette by Bartas himself — that skirts ponderousness but ultimately yields low-key rewards. It is only after about half an hour, when one of them arrives at a farm that is near completely severed from the rest of the world, that the film moves into the world of Bartas.
Bartas expands the scope of his usual investigation and deals with a plethora of themes including the artificiality and fickleness of national boundaries, the barriers that lingual and geographical differences create between people and the ultimate impermanence of these barriers and the people affected by it in this visually breathtaking masterwork. Furthermore, one also gets the feeling that Bartas is attempting to resolve the question of theory versus practice — cold cynicism versus warm optimism — with regards to his politics as we witness the protagonist finally burn the books, page by page, he had so far held tightly to his chest.
With an eye for small and intricate changes in seasons, terrains and time of the day comparable to that of James Benning, Bartas pushes his own envelope as he lingers on eyes, faces and landscapes for seemingly interminable stretches of time. Each image of the film carries with itself an air of a still paining, vaguely familiar. Extremely well shot in harsh monochrome, the interiors of the apartment resemble some sort of a void, a limbo for lost souls if you will, from which there seems to be no way out. Every person in this desolate land seems to be an individual island, stuck at a particular time in history forever.
All Wrapped Up!: (Bdsm, Breathplay, Gay) (Paperback) | RoscoeBooks
The actors are all Bressonian here and do no more than move about in seemingly random directions and perform mundane, everyday actions. This is followed by a shot of a woman and her kid walking on a vast, snowy plain and moving away from the viewer until they become nonentities assimilated by their landscape. Bartas suffuses the film with diagonal compositions indicative of a fallen world — a world that can go nowhere but the abyss. Appropriately, the film closes with a variation of its opening image: flakes of snow flowing downriver — an apt metaphor for the many nations that would drift without a base after the disintegration of the Soviet Union.
Opening sequence. RIP Susan Hiller. Here is how I think the blog will function beginning tomorrow.
I then plan to do the p. Beginning on Monday, the 4th, the p. My guess is that will be the case for roughly a week or so. If that makes sense. Cool, thank you. Happy the book yesterday had a hook.
Emma And Uncle Steve’s Woody
A fantastic artist. But, yes, really a loss. Guzzle those meds. I loved The Little Rascals. I think sometimes it must have been a huge influence on me as a kid, how they were always being so hyper creative and putting on plays and weird shit. I can only imagine. Cool, man. I look forward to hearing how it goes along the way. And packing and the usual pre-trip stressing out.
And summary. I'm really fond of this story. Have we learned nothing from cannibals, Ianto? Well, a little sonic screwdriver goes a long way. My first RPF. A little mourning, a little celebration. No sex. My attempt to work through this bit. The Doctor is dead. Long live the Doctor. Era: Summer Written for rm in the while we tell of yuletide treasure rare fandoms fic exchange. Tonight, the city falls dark — police stations, hospitals, streets and even the Hub. Someone is killing the city. Without their most basic technology, how will Torchwood solve the mystery before it's too late?
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Era: ep. It felt weird, writing to spec in a way that I'm not used to, but still required lots of thought, and I'm kinda ridiculously proud of it. Also, gen adventure! Era: Children of Earth, Day 4. Nothing you know about Torchwood is true. Character development through porn. NC, baby. Era: Takes place between 2x Adam and 2x Reset ; also extremely vague spoilers for 2x From Out of the Rain and 2x Fragments.
Started off as email pwp - but with us, things never end there. And I thought dating was awkward for me. As ever, the Torchwood team takes it to a greater extreme. The end gets really porntastic! God, I love this universe. Jack and Ianto try to cope. This concludes the triptych, although not the 'verse. It was a SLOG to write, and at the time of posting, I'm not emotionally detached enough to judge it objectively. These boys have really taken over my brain.
It is freaky. Warnings: porn, genderfuck, cross-dressing I have a weakness for this kink, but making it work in fic can be really hard. Still after seeing Ianto model that wedding dress, and Jack's little comment in "Dear Captain" -- it just seemed to write itself!
I really love this story. Warnings: porn, het, threesome, voyeurism. Anyway, longest installment yet, and a total blast to write. Warnings: angst, slash, porn This might be my new favorite of the series. And the one where we realize, a bit, where things are going: that this is, and has always been, a story about memory.
We had a lot of fun with this one. It was logistically difficult, but extremely rewarding, and we had a brilliant time with it. This was my first 'ship in this universe, and I am ridiculously fond of it. Also, how much do I love that the "she" in the title might mean Rose Real world roughness made this a difficult chapter to write, but I think we're happy with the way it turned out. Warnings: het, preslash Second prequel, and a new tonal quality. The importance of this story to the arc surprised and delighted us - and occasionally broke our hearts.
Warnings: slash, head-in-a-jar, religion, plot I'd been wanting to write this story since we started the arc. It also turned into our version of mpreg ha! Warnings: pre-slash, bodyswap, bestiality heh! Don't know quite what to say, except Era: s onward, spoilers for all books WIP. The ongoing project.