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show me your skills /lit. Write a paragraph to capture the emotion

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show me your skills /lit.

Write a paragraph to capture the emotion of this picture.
>>
The mirror.
And the fuzzy shit on either side of her head.
Are fun to look at.
is her butt cold
>>
>>8638752
>implying there's any emotion in that picture at all

Completely flat. Horribly stylized. Babby's first photoshop. How can a picture of a model inexplicably in her underwear outside by a car have any emotional resonance whatsoever? Do you look at this picture with pleasure, OP? Do you find it "interesting"? If so, you are not of my kind. You are part of the mob, that motley tribe whose taste is not simply bad, but absent. This picture, it's shameless. The kind of pretentious trash designed to clog up Pinterest to manufacture traffic. I pray to whatever Gods still waste time on this rock that I never have to see another bootleg Smirnoff Ice ad for as long as I live.
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>>8638752

Mornings were cool there in the desert foothills. She had given up hopping around for warmth just before posing for the photograph, her bare footprints littering the unseen foreground. She stared at me in disbelief, an expression of dislike beginning to form around her lips. I chuckled.

"I'm not a photographer," I repeated.
>>
>>8639438
>beginning to form around her lips
Almost chucked 2bh
>>
>tumblr
>>
>>8639378
>Do you find it "interesting"? If so, you are not of my kind. You are part of the mob, that motley tribe whose taste is not simply bad, but absent. This picture, it's shameless.
>>
>>8638752
The strange elongation and flatness of the body made me wonder for a moment what I was looking at. "Want a blanket?" I asked.
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>>8639378
Pls make a trip so I can follow your work
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>>8638752
there's no emotion in this picture, it's a commercial piece
>>
I absent mindedly hit the capture button wondering how she got her clothes wet in the middle of nowhere and why we were driving around in an antique car like a couple of fuckwits.

I looked at her dumb hair and wondered what faux-androgynous phase led to her asking for that cut, and what narcissism led her to style it for an hour that morning.

Overall her expression told it all, we were not having a lot of fun.
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>>8638752
A skeleton draped in pretty flesh leaned against the car. The road was open and desolate. She was in her underwear. They were lost.
>>
Disgusting flat old hag with a man's head
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>>8638752
Well, uh - how best to explain it; you've seen me in "X-Men"...
The character I am, Professor Charles Xavier, if you remember, he can control things with the power of his mind - can make people do things and see things, so I thought, what if you could do that for real? I mean, not in a comic book world, but in the real world.
So in my film, I play a man who controls the world with his mind. For instance, I'm walking along, and I see this beautiful girl, and I think I'd like to see her naked, and so all her clothes fall off, and she's scrabbling around to get them back on again, but even before she can get her knickers on, I've seen everything. Yeah. I've seen it all.
>>
She shivered from the wind that flowed across her skin with the constancy and strength of an icy stream, the look on her face showing that the memory of our tryst had already begun to change, the heat of a moments indulgence dissipating in the wind until only cold regret remains.
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>>8638752
That's it, girl, show me your loathing. You know that's what I want. You know it will take years for them to find your body, if they ever do. What did you think was going to happen when you stuck your thumb out and fluttered your eyelashes at me? Were you hoping I'd be that rugged off-duty deputy who would take you straight home to Mama's trailer and give you a stern lecture about the dangers of hitchhiking then drive off into the sunset only to return on horseback the next day to woo you? No, I am that other dude you thought only exists in movies and I am only too real. Now shut up and start running. I'm in the mood for some fun.
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>>8639518
its a dude you moron
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>>8638752
A black-haired woman in black lingerie half-turned to me with a questioning look on her face, yet unready to hear what comes ahead.
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>>8639548
That's questioning? Fucking kek
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>>8638752
So that's a guy or a girl? Does /lit/ like traps? Everyone knows being gay is true patrician.
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>>8639604
Girl. Yes. I just want a futa to be honest
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>>8639604
Gaychan here.

Obviously a woman. Look at the fat around her ass. She also very clearly has breasts. And that bone structure come on.

Have none of you seen a woman in her underwear before?
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>>8639618
women are disgusting, may as well be men.
>>
>>8638752
She flashed me daggers just before we got in the car, Dean drunk and still singing as he banged whiskey beats on the wheel. I would miss the androgyne cunt in the little things. Her swaddling, lackadaisy through a Texas mist, in a gigolos linen shirt what hung like a tunic. Gad, everything was oversized on her: drink, benzos, men, egos. Really, I mean really, what makes a girl - and, really, I do mean a girl - what makes a girl go for a guy like me and Dean? She's kept on eating me with her smokey eyes and I remember one of the first times we hitched up, us talking outside the Long Pig tavern, her torso tipsy and taught, telling me how the stars didn't really do much for her. There weren't even any stars out, just polluted light and misty Texas. Was that it? Is that why you drive?

Closing the door, she's sealed off like a sunken shipcabin. I smell her shirt. Smells like rosey sick. Dean's still just singing. I can't stand his voice. Dead in the nowhere of an orchard, and I knew there wouldn't be a star in sight tonight. She's still just looking. Gad, they kill you don't you? But she must go. The bitch must go.

We drove like fiends that night, fast, no, faster than comet-tail. All dark, no stars. Faster than comet-tail, faster than light.
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>>8638752
she said I don't fuck her the right way and besides I would be a complete loser in life. So I took her out to the woods, stripped her naked of her clothes and made a picture of her. The anger still shows in her face, but she let it happen. From that day on forward, I never met her again. It was only years later I realized she was right about everything she said about me and that I wasn't even able to take a good picture of hers, naked in the most breathtaking landscape there is.
>>
>>8639378
>>8639456
>>8639490
this
>>
Pseud shit incoming

>Sooty eyes looked at me from an angular face. Somewhere underneath that gaze was a skinny body wearing expensive underwear, her butt (covered in black lace) pressing against the side of the car.
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>>8639521
Started out interesting but fell flat and generic by the end.
>>
>>8639636
Holy.. I want more..
>>
>>8639618
Lol, you idiot: look at her back. That is definitely a man.
t. woman and art student
>>
>>8638752

There is no emotion in that picture.
>>
>>8639728

Wow

I thought I was being clever, and I was.
>>
>>8638752
She and I stood in the stark light of day.
She in the latest black lacy Bluebella, L'Agent, Huit, whatever damnable brand had most recently snaked its way from her magazines into her brain, working her mouth like a ventriloquist's dummy, crying "Buy [this one]! Buy [that one]! Buy! Buy! Buy!"
Myself in the solid gray Armani boxer briefs that "looked delicious on the mannequin" and were then purchased more by the sangria and ecstasy than any logical thought.
Both of us in the heat, the sun's naked fury beating down on our shoulders, on the restored 1954 GMC pickup, and on the dead man who lay inside.
>>
>>8638752

"Now the bra."

Her face never changed. She reached back, pinched. The bra came away from her puckered tits and goose flesh. A slight moan, a whimper.

"Face me."

She turned. I approached, she recoiled, slightly. Pain flickered in her eyes, hate, fear. I grabbed her by the thigh and ran up rough into her cunt, felt the blade of my hand warm and moist. She gasped.
>>
>>8639759

omg patrick bateman

You tried to cram too much into a little bit, but you hit on a number of his literary devices.

It was more-than-recognizable. If you had more length, you could fine tune it.
5/10
>>
>>8639770
she was totally into it though
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>>8639774
True story, I've never read anything by Bret Easton Ellis. I've been meaning to read American Psycho for a long time, but just never got around to it.
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>>8639759
I liked it.
>>
>>8638752
Lacy panties, matching bra,
Standing there, beside her car.
The emotion on her face,
Looks like someone who was raped.
Her brows furrowed to her nose,
Shivering from the wind's blows.
With trembling lips, she looks at you,
And finally says, "It was the Jews."
>>
>>8638752
- The photographer -
Cold. Beauty. Nature.
I captured that moment just like i captured her.
>>
>>8638752
looking into the lens with her molded face thinking of the aspirations she had as a girl-'respectability has been abandoned, i've become just another pretty face and i'll die as a pretty face. to think different carries the same naivety as child's play, atleast it also carries the same innocence and honesty.'
>>
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>>8638752
I did wish to pop bio champagne with her, as she had been rather suggestive the last few weeks at the cafè, not far from the office. Fishnets and all. Her look ran cold however ever since we came here; like a piano wire roping for my neck, or was it her true colors quelling around the abyssmal stare half nude in the open?
>>
>>8638752 (OP) (OP)

So after pulling over to take a nap, I run to go pee in the woods. When I return I'm stunned to see this insanely hot chick in nothing but lingerie leaning her taut ass against the front left wheel well of my truck. I say insanely hot because not only did she look like she belonged in a Victoria Secret catalogue, but, like insane people tend to do, I hear, she materialized out of what literally seemed like thin air—in her scantily clad underwear to be sure—and, to boot, was giving me a silent scowl I can only describe as both poised and feral. It was then I was sure I was either dead, or quickly about to be. Though my fingers were crossed for a fuck when I offer, "Do you need help?"
>>
>>8638752
A woman stares at the end of the road. She is alone, and has been alone for a long time. Leaning on the car, she eyes the distance, willing it to draw closer, willing for someone to show up, and help her finally move on.

After much time has passed, she gets sick of waiting, and calls Triple A.
>>
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>>8639378

The lady doth protest too much, methinks.
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>>8639664
That's Gervais for you.
>>
My eyes focused upon her, blurring everything else, drawing in a silence. The wind splashed goosebumps on her skin and I watched her cross her arms. I didn't like to see her arms crossed because I knew it meant she felt uncomfortable. I couldn't blame her though, what with the Wisconsin wind chill and our derailed tryst in the woods. I know she doesn't want a baby because it might impede her career, but whether it be a biological mating protocol, the ineffability of love, or simply the appreciation for such pulchritude (the type that makes you want to say 'pulchritude' because beautiful isn't enough)—whatever it is, I want my offspring to be hers too. Why I decided to bring it up when I did is beyond me. Maybe it was the willows.
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>>8639759
The body is in the rolled up Persian rug in the truck bed

Other than that 8/10
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>>8639542
You wish. You really do; I can tell
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>>8638752
why is this dumb bitch leaning against an old vehicle?
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>>8640208
I was actually picturing him reclinined in the driver's seat, but I do think I like your version better.
>>
She pulled that familiar expression of disgust as I told her for the tenth time that when I was eleven and really ill I farted and a bright yellow coin sized slime ball slimed down my leg after escaping my gods pocket. There were mountains behind her.
>>
Her name was Francesca Merthings Donahue, an heiress of a once prominent rotary telephone empire. Her lips smelled of fungus and tobacco. Her hair was far more graceful-odorized every third day with a homemade citrus concoction, noticable even with only the most perfunctory of whiffs.

Undressed, leaning against the car, she started mouthing words before the sounds registered. Something about something. Another thing about another thing. Else or? Then and? Ho-hum. Ho-hum. At that point neither of us were what the other had hoped for when they sought to seduce one away from the unsuspecting betrotheds. The life raft deflated. The novel left unfinished by a heart attack. The soap opera unfolding as expected. "So what now?" I thought.

"Well what now?" I said.
>>
>>8638752
Simulation is no longer that of a territory, a referential being, or a substance. It is the generation by models of a real without origin or reality: a hyperreal.... It is no longer a question of imitation, nor duplication, nor even parody. It is a question of substituting the signs of the real for the real. The simulacrum's "peculiar function lies in what Sartre would have called the derealization of the whole surrounding world of everyday reality."

There is no emotion in this photo to capture OP.
>>
>>8639666
Lol it's from On the Road.
>>
The point, of course, wasn't that I was ugly and she wasn't. It wasn't a display of some great and tribal triumph of the genetically gifted over the chromosomally damned. She didn't think like that, anyway; I'm not sure any woman really does. It was more like a challenge. That's the thrust behind that face she made. It was a warding that was also an inviting. "Come get me," said her body, with the addendum, "if you dare."
>>
Frustrating. It's so frustrating working with these people. If I complained to the agencies, they would only send her again. If I said it was still wrong, she'd show up with longer hair, taller, and eyes green the next time around. Katie is it now? Frustrating. /Let's make art together through the human form./ They still believe me to this day even though the line sounds so alien to me now in the same way a word sounds foreign the more and more you repeat it. Now that I really think about it, was it really necessary for me to choose this location out here? What the fuck does lingerie have to do with country roads?

"Just like that. Let's try and capture some more vulnerability." I motioned my shoulder so she could mirror my movements. Her skin is smooth and her body slender; just the type to make other women insecure enough about their own and men interested enough to hold the advert a little longer than they normally would while flipping through the magazine.

She's starting to make the face they all do. The kind of face that looks passed the camera lens--passed me as if they were looking directly at the intended audience. She's figured out the trade secret in monetizing the human need for connection. It's beautiful and sickening all at once. "That's perfect, Katie. Hold that."
>>
>>8640718

This is my pick for best in show.
>>
>>8638752
I felt like I was sitting down on a cold toilet seat. I parted my lips and stared at a spot beyond the camera, where the road curved back into the woods. I heard the shutter and became art.
>>
>>8638752
"She" looks like a dike or a bitch or both or worse or even better: a man. "Her" chin and jaw and facial structure are way too fucking strong and "her" hair short. Look at "her" back and skinny ass and lack of tits cleverly covered up by the angle and "her" hands. This is some shit straight out of Naked Lunch.
>>
>>8640718

Nice one m80, though I don't know how someone who can write that could also mix up "passed" and "past".
>>
I choke in delight that such a magnus of beauty ellipse my presence.
>>
>>8640622
That was an original passage, but yeah, tried to imitate it.
>>
>>8641085
>I don't know how someone who can write that could also mix up "passed" and "past".
I do. I'm not all that well read.
>>
>>8638752

I used my mouse to diddle the slider until i thought the blacks looked dark enough.
>>
>>8640718
8/10
Points off for
>passed
Come on man
>>
>>8638752
She tried to hide it, behind raised eyebrows. She tried not to, but the faint bewilderment shown in her fading smile began turning into a quiet dread. No, he was not about to stop this game, not on his turn anyway. She was about to either coplete his task or fail - "by strip I meant your underwear too" - she heard hi behind the caera.
>>
>>8640718

This is really good, makes me think of chuck palahniuk.
>>
>>8638752
Underneath her cotton garments one would be very surprised to find a foreign object sticking out like a fishing pole
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>>8641846

lol
>>
>>8639548
Holy............I want more
>>
>>8638752
On the road
To a volcano
For a model shoot
Temperature rising
Pressure increasing
Rocks flying
Ash raining
Death
>>
>>8638752

The road to the bakery was blocked. Fuck me.
>>
We were far into the country now. There had been nothing but dirt roads for the last four hours and finally we'd arrived. The backwater countryside of a backwater countryside. The end of the road.

In hindsight it would have been better if I'd killed her. Killing her boyfriend had been easy. Fun even. But Vanessa wasn't her boyfriend, she was cold, sexy, mysterious, she knew how to put her hair up right and could move her ass like nobodies business. Besides, we had our history. Her boyfriend Blair had known too much, would have busted all of us. He didn't like me, for obvious reasons, and had grown up on the right side of the tracks. The kind that calls the cops when they stumble on a bank heist. The kind that calls the robbers before calling the cops so he can try to get them to "repent". The kind that ends up in three feet of dirt with a busted head. When Charles Darwin penned 'the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life', he was probably thinking about Blair.

Vanessa was different though. She didn't give a fuck about all that. She just wanted to go home at the end of the day. So did I, which was why I'm here four hours into bumbfuck nowhere fumbling with loose strings. "Go on, get out of the car". She's almost naked and her eyes are still blurry from being pulled out of bed. Despite that her makeup and hair are perfect. Go figure. She looks at me with eyes that are saying "don't do this, we can run away together, leave this whole scheme behind". At least thats what I like to imagine what she's saying. "Just take me home. It can be like before Blair. Before this stupid scheme to rob a bank. Before anything, back when it was just us. We can go home and fuck by the fire like we used to, forget the last 3 years have ever happened".

But the thing about time is it doesn't go backwards. I could throw my entire life away chasing some figment of happiness that had died years ago, but it will just amount to a waste of time. No, it's better to keep going forwards. Besides, any relationship based on a kidnapping isn't going to work, I don't need Dr. Phil to tell me that.

So I pull out my gun. The morning sun is just starting to rise and everything is tinted in a golden light. When she sees my gun she gasps. It looks like she might cry. I always thought she looked more beautiful on the verge of tears. Maybe that's why I lost her.

Motioning towards a mountain raising up in the distance, I look her straight in the eyes. "Go that way. Keep walking. Don't stop. Don't turn around". Vanessa doesn't say anything, she just looks at me with that sad, betrayed look in her eyes. For a second I wonder if she's going to cry. Then, she turns around, and that melancholy face disappears for the last time. After twenty seconds I can no longer see the way her ass jiggles as she walks away. Forty seconds and she's just a silhouette. I light a cigarette and smoke it as she disappears into the distance. By the time I finish, I'm alone with the morning sun.
>>
>>8638752
She watched as I slid my pants up hopping a bit to get my feet through the rumpled denim. Goose pimples raised on her arms as a slight mist blew in from beneath the trees. "Can I have my clothes back, now? Are you done?". I told her she could have them back in a minute. I'd paid for the hour and even an extra $5 to take pictures. Not that it mattered, I'd be taking my money back from her in less than an hour. She didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve any of what was about to happen.
>>
>>8638752
"Put on a shirt for christsake"
She sat out in the cold light of day welcoming all horns and sirens blaring by, waving and teasing her ass to the cadence of hollers from windows.
"Are you afraid to share me?" she smirked "You'll happily share me with the internet. With you buddies on message boards, but once we hit the road I ought to cover up like a Muslim"
>>
Honey look at the camera
No, not me the camera
Dumb bleach
>>
>>8638752

She standing and looking at me and I, and I, and I...

The wind blows drily across the road, scattering dust over the car and her skin. Still her gaze pierces me. My hands are on the steering wheel.

"Decide". Her tone is cold. She takes her arms away from her chest and moves away from the car. Standing on the dirt road, she looks straight in at me and repeats herself. "Decide."

I swallow and the engine is still running and I could just press down on the accelerator and it'd be all over and she'd find her way home she's always been good at that but her dark eyes burrow into me and sees the one thing no one else ever sees and I can't leave, christ I can't leave her I can't.

I turn the key and the engine shudders to a stop. I get out of the car and standing there with the pine forests and the sky that shelters us I find myself in her arms again and I can't let her go I can't let her go.
>>
>>8639770
Trump pls go
Thread posts: 79
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