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the-queerview · 8 months ago

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The Substance

2024

by Coralie Fargeat

My dear readers, it's been a while since I decided to post. It was a long summer, ending with me visiting North Korea, just kidding, i just saw North Korea, which is already pretty amazing and frightening. Unfortunately my experience was disrupted, since a few week before my arrival some American tourist ran into North Korea and got shot, rest in peace idiot. They say never judge a deceased and in retrospective, i can't since those tours are literally disneyland trader joes tourist traps kind of, but lets not roast on peoples buisnisess here, lets roast the films, that take us on rides in our grey existence.

I would like to start by saying, that it's a pretty good year for babes and a pretty good year for horror film. We had Brat summer and soon there will be Nosferatu Autumn, with Lily Rose Depp starring in Nosferatu (102 years after its first release). We have Hunter Schaefers first cinema film, where she is not there for like 5 minutes like in Hunger games or entirely Naked for a few minutes like in Lanthimos kinds of kindness. Not to hate on nudity here, but we have a quite problematic history with women* and nudity. I highly recommend here Linda Nochlins representing women, on womens representation within western art history paintings, which is till todays core a major influence on cinematography. Which brings me to start today with a Portrait by Gericault, titled : Monomaniac of Envy (Monomane de l’envie) from 1822.

The Substance is a film following Elisabeth Sparkle ( Demi Moore), a former Oscar winner now aging TV -Starr with an aerobic ( I assume) show. (We might be remembered here of Jane Fonda, who indeed was an actress and the figure for aerobic in the 80s, when american propaganda preached they can't control the world in post vietnam war america and they only thing they can control is the BODY.) Elisabeths nasty boss is firing here for being to old, sad and isolated as she is, we don't learn so much, about her inner world. They cinematograpghy is resembling a distant, almost, stretched, lets say overdrawn perspective, probably similar to the characters inner world. Everything is clean, but not personal. Theres a giant photograph of Elisabeth in her almost comic looking loft. It reminds me somehow of older sowiet films, where a picture of Lenin would hang on the walls or some shit, so I thought, damn, the main dictator in Elisabeths Life is probably herself. And turns out right. Long story short, I try not to spoiler the grande scenes here, but one word, the billboard scene.. Elisabeth gets in contact to an anonymous note by an anonymous person, after some tragedy, and orders the SUBSTANCE. She will pick it up, inject it, and after some alien shit, which you see in the first picture, a second version of herself, that is herself will crawl literally out of her back. This version is young, hot, and will fuck Elisabeth up. Her name is Sue ( Margaret Qualley) and the rule is, that Sue got 7 days, and Elisabeth got 7. If one breaks the rule, they basically both fucked.

So the movie itself, is literally like, when popstars get the chance, like i dont know, rihanna doing superbowl singing all her bangers. kind of this vibe, So for horror film nerds, and i m sure i didnt guessed all but we have of course, david lynchs twin peaks and pretty sure wild at heart. we have suspiria by dario argento, especially the soundtrakc and BLOOD, we have some cronenberg body horror, and crazy camera like in gaspard noes enter the void, but all in all, i guess, what i was missing in the film, is that the first half was literally fucking amazing. it had it's own signature, it didn't need the references from my part, like yeah those dude directors did important work, i wish Fargeat would trust herself maybe more, that what shes doing is the right thing to go for. Also I literally loved ALL THE DETAILS. Like i could start analyzing so many bits of it.

I loved, that it was dealing with Envy, fear or aging, MISOGYNY, and comparison in such a smart way. The first half of the film, felt like an entire advertisment, which is the core to all evil, as we know. We literally spent actually years of our lifes watching advertisments.

The second half of it, reminded me to much of 80s body horror, it had its campy moment. And here I m being unfair probably. I did my research and Coralie Fargeat is born 1976. She was a a child in the 80s, and this was a time, that formed her culturally and therefor aesthetaically to a certain degree... or did you never noticed that fashion designers usually end up designing clothes, that they loved to wear as kids/teens? I feel like, if Coralie Fargeat felt like working in this 80s rubber stuff was important for, fuck , let her do it. Also in the 80s there weren't many female filmmakers around, especially not in the dudy dude horror scene. So whatever.

Also I was tbh in shock about the violence. Like many times, my partner had to close my eyes in the cinema, cuz i was hella scared of the intense violence. Maybe Kira Muratova ( an amazing ukranian filmmaker, that I truly adore for insane films) was right, when she said, women make harder films. I wonder if it has something to do with being in pain every month, of the injustice of the binary patriarchal world, or the violence transwomen experience?

There was for sure a very insanity level of violence, but at the same time, the most stunning portrayal of envy against a version of yourself, that you might never see. I loved that it also reflected so much the world in a sense, the decadence of the west, hollywood, glamour, age, ozempic, comparison, starving for youth vs the isolation of those from the current wars in the middle east, the starvation in Sudan. The proatogists were isolated in every scene almost. The Bathroom was the scenery of the crime, similar to the way we use this room to get ready for the outer world. The only real personal details in the film I experienced in the notes, those handwritten notes, that would always appear. I kept thinking about them for days. They became almost a metaphor for me, that different then then all the advertisments, the substance delivery typography, all those for Elisabeth Sparcle seemingly important objects, where not personal, thou its about her,about her body. while those handwritten notes by the strangers, seemed more personal, then the things that surround her, since trough the handwriting they are proof of a human life. Turns out, they were a signifer of what is missing in her world, the way she experience having the body, its no intimate, not adressed.

Also Demi and Margaret were so fucking amazing, i 'm literally blown away. Like i WISH i could like scream and hug them and be like. WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT. I bet all their friends and family are proud like crazy. This shit was insane, playing that? Insane. They did so good, like not many ppl can read a script like that and be like...mhhh yup. So GRANDEUR APPLAUSE !!!!!!!

All in all I highly recommend checking out the Substance, I m sorry if I spoilered to much. Big trigger warning for violence, also some scenes are literally gross, depending on you, bring a friend or a lover, and watch it in the cinema, if your socio cultural situation allows you to, i can imagine this film being censored, otherwise just be illegal literally. Like we live in hell.

but dont watch it alone, only if you are freaky deaky i guess.

love to my readers.

the queerview

ps: Also I did watch blink twice by Zoë Kravitz. a queerview will follow, but its so hardcore to watch blink twice and p.diddies freak party assault stuff. mentally i cant go down that road, but Kravitz did literally on time...

#art house #film critique #female directors #the substance 2024 #demi moore #margaret qualley #horror films

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baji-sideblog · 10 months ago

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Sooo Topaz's first thought when y/n's butt is sticking out is to do sex things? Ohh no Topaz, I can't seem to find the flour in the bottom cupboard. Guess I have to keep looking as my butt is up in the air as I'm bent over. lol, sorry sorry, just being silly. Sorry sorry lol

Lol don’t apologize I’m so happy she’s getting mentioned! I was a little worried she wouldn’t get anything at first so it’s nice seeing y’all ask about my girl.

Cw lewd eating out reader, no specific parts are mentioned besides core

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Topaz chuckles seeing you try to tempt her especially since the flour was clearly in the pantry on the third shelf.

“Oh my well then why don’t I help you out my cute little spouse~ I’m sure your wife can help give you what you desire.”

She kneels down behind you, one hand on your back pushing you down so your ass is up higher. Her free hand rubs against your clothed core before ripping a hole to free your delicious features from your pants and underwear.

“You smell absolutely divine my love but I know you taste even sweeter. And I’m ready for my dessert.”

She bends down using her fat tongue to lap up your most sensitive parts with a feral delight. Her tongue working it’s way into you with ease teasing your insides. Every time you gasped or squirmed against her you can feel the vibrations of her chuckle. She moves her hands onto your thighs pulling you right against her face as she becomes more desperate to have you fall apart with her tongue.

Her grip was tight her claws digging into your skin enough to leave a mark but not to make you bleed. She pulls away for a second only to shove her tongue inside of you suddenly forcing it to go as deep as it can inside of you. And the moment you let out the most delectable moan when she hits the right spot Topaz focus hers efforts onto it solely. Till you’re seeing stars as you climax thanks to her efforts? Topaz quickly licks up all of your love juices a little smirk on her mouth.

“Just as delicious as I knew you’d be, but now let’s get to the main part of dessert I’m still so hungry after all.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

#yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #the nightshift gang #yandere x reader #tw: yandere #topaz lazuli

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taevith · 2 months ago

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Show analysis

I've constantly thought of ways I could go about talking bout shows or movies I'm watching and just talk about how they make me feel. I feel like I can't get that in my daily life and don't have people I feel comfortable going on and on about how some random show made me cry because I saw myself in the main character. So I figure why not make a blog about? I don't really plan to make it some well typed essay or anything, just letting my thoughts spill out. So I'm gonna start this with...

Carol and the end of the World

This will all be written with the assumption you, the reader, have seen the show/movie

Episode 1: Carol is depressed. And I feel a lot of that. It's like everyone else is "normal" and I'm just here trying to cope and I just want things to go back to how they used to be. Wether or not how things used to be is better or worse for me is irrelevant. I want things to go back to how they were so I can feel... Sane. Why can't I just be happy, like them?

On a separate note, holy shit do I know those kinda guys. Hell I was that kinda guy once. Desperate, lonely, afraid... I guess I'm still lonely. Just lost the desperation. It's hard being alone, feeling lonely. You meet someone you feel like you match with and they do something that makes you rethink. Often something small, though sometimes something as big as saying Im in love with you on the second date. And I just... Run. I'm scared.

Did this episode make me cry? Yes.

Episode 2: it's a distraction. All of it. Just something to feel normal, to not think about it. Busy work to keep your mind busy so it doesn't have to think about... Everything. The gun was a bit of a wild turn but hey, it's an animated show for adults by Netflix, you gotta expect some odd curve balls.

The frantic searching felt a lot like the lead up to a panic attack. You're mind just racing and not shutting up because it thinks this is the most important thing in the world. If I don't do this I will literally die. But you won't, Carol wouldn't. It's just a job/it's just a distraction. At any time she could stand up and leave. It's uncontrolled anxiety. Anxiety is important, it keeps us alive, but people with anxiety problems, like myself, their anxiety finds everything to be a threat. A slight hick up and our worlds spiral. In the moment it feels so final.

To speak on the object in the sky, I honestly see its an inevitably. Death comes for us all, it's inevitable. Instead of spending our time on art or hobbies everything just feels pointless. That's why we use distractions. Anything to shut our brain up. Make it work just enough it that it doesn't have time to think, but not too much to wear us out. Anything to keep from obsessing over the inevitable.

Episode 3: let me start by talking about Daddy- no sorry, Daddy- no sorry, the captain. Lol. Don't know why, like dat man.

Anyways, pretty chill episode, till the end anyways. With how things are right now in America... I can't help but feel for Donna. It may not be about this but it certainly compares.

I forget his name, but the male coworker said something really deep that hit me in the core. Friends and experiences come and go and you just kinda feel... Numb after a while. This episode made me cry.

Episode 4: I love episode about siblings. It's always reminds me of just how special my relationship with my brother is. I love him to the end of the earth and farther. He really means the world to me. I wouldn't be here without him. I look up to him. He's always been there when I needed him and I always wish there was some way to pay him back for it all. I know that silly.

Episode 5: I didn't think this episode was gonna be so impactful at first. It starts out very quirky and kinda run of the mill, till David dies, that is. It's kinda difficult to put into words what exactly this made me feel. It was nice seeing them all regain their humanity in the face of such tragedy. Half a year and everyone dies. And David not even being able to make it to the end... Kinda makes me think of suicide. It's not how he died in story, but we distract ourselves from the inevitable and sometimes we just can't make it. Wether that be through personal or natural causes. It's sad to think he could have had more life ahead of him, even if it WAS only 6 months.

That's all for this post. I'm really enjoying the series and can't wait to see if they are actually going to go through with the world ending or not.

#mental health #carol and the end of the world

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do0zy-artz · 1 year ago

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Reunited - Chapter Two: Old Hobbies - 2K Words

Fwhip has another hard day, and spends it remembering things he wishes he still had.

A03 Link

One day, Fwhip gets an old urge to make something again. It really shouldn't shock him, when it happens. He was an inventor at his core, and always had been his whole life. It's been six months since he even saw a workbench, let alone sat at one and actually made something new, or chipped away at a new project. The urge to create after all this time is only a natural thing, and he knows that. But that doesn't mean he has to like the urge.

He even sits down at his desk, in the workshop he had. Well, the work room Gem said he could have, the one right across the hall from her own little spell room or whatever she called it. Fwhip hadn’t used the space for its intended purpose at all though, treating one side as an office of sorts; with papers and half finished sketches piled onto a desk. The other was treated like his own personal library, with two bookshelves full of god knows what books crammed in there. The place was also full of whatever he'd managed to save from the manner, most of that stuff being together on one shelf. Like they were too precious to be contaminated by any of the other, newer things lying around the home.

It takes him a few minutes of sitting at his desk, of looking around for a spare tool or pen, to even realize what he’s trying to do. He’s just running on old habits, doing things that had long been committed to muscle memory during long hours in his forge and workshop. It was just like he was back home, in the Grimlands, getting ready to start a new project for the empire. It was just like the good ole days….

When Fwhip does realize what he’s doing, the realization hits him hard. Very hard. Enough to render the former count motionless for a few seconds, staring at the wood of his new desk blankly. The wood of his new desk, not the well loved and charred one of his old one back in his workshop. His workshop, the one right down the hall from the meeting room and his bedroom he never slept in. Not right next to his sister’s own workspace in a small house they built with their own two (mostly Gem’s uninjured) hands, but a manor that had been his childhood home for generations. His home that was gone because of him.

The ginger makes a strangled noise, grumbles to himself, and stops looking around his desk for a stupid pen or wrench of whatever. Instead he folds his hands over themselves, fingers tight with tension he didn’t even know he had left in him, and just….lets them rest there. He didn’t used to do that, before the explosion and his injuries. The half dragon had never let himself rest, he used to always be fidgeting, always going going going. Now he could just sit still for a while, and not feel the need to move at all. (Take that ADHD, or whatever undiagnosed neurological thing he probably had.)

His gaze, now somber, shifts to the window. It’s not even a minute till his eyes are trained on the river, one as blue and full of life as his own gaze used to be; once upon a time. It was the main reason he, Gem, and the villagers they had with them had settled here, because it was a good source of water, one they could filter for drinking and fish and water the crops from and swim in. It’s his favorite spot to look at, whenever he needs to stare out the window and think. Or when he needs to take a lonesome walk. For a lot of reason; because it’s pretty, it reminds him of the one back home, and of…..a certain someone Fwhip takes a lot of care to name nowadays, lest it bring the choking guilt and sense of failure back into his throat.

He feels like the biggest failure in the goddamn world, that's what he feels like. And it's a fitting feeling too, considering he'd been the one who'd ended it. Fwhip’s the one who had the idea, to make that new dumb Codfather’s head, who’s forge blew up and destroyed everything and killed people. All of that, that was all him. All the blood was on his hands.

It was a plain and simple fact, in the half dragon’s mind at least. He failed. He failed his friends, his family, his kingdom, everyone. Fwhip had failed all of them, and there was nothing he could do to change if. There was no way he could go back in time and undo everything, save everyone, even if he wanted to. Even if he wanted to more than anything in the world. Or well, what's left of the world anyways.

It was his fault the Grimlands was nothing but a pile of rubble. It was his fault the Ocean and the swamps had drained. It was his fault the Mezalean Matreal Palace had been split in half. It was his fault debris had fallen and destroyed the Crystal Cliffs Academy. It was his fault all the other empires had been sent ablaze. It was his fault all their friends and all those innocent people had died. It was all Fwhip’s fault, no matter which way you viewed it. All of it was his and his alone.

A frown becomes firmly etched on his face, as Fwhip sits there for whoever knows how long and thinks. He thinks about home, all the things he lost in the explosions and the fire. The memories and the lives and all his staff and his friends and his people and Clara . He thinks about the other empires and emperors too, the ones missing, the ones alive and the ones they knew were dead. The ones they knew were dead because they’d had to find out through what little gossip and hearsay they got. Because at the end of the day he and Gem had run, and hadn’t gone to pick up anyone else. They hadn’t even checked if they were bodies to bury or any people to save, just packed up what was left of their things and got on her dragons. And cried, they’d cried a lot. It was selfish of them, both of the twins knew, but they hadn’t known what else to do at the time. Fwhip wishes they hadn’t done that, but that was in the past. There’s nothing they can do now. All they can do is take care of themselves, and the people that have been found along the way, and just try and survive.

Fwhips holds back a sound or two, a wet sob maybe, and rests his forehead against his folded hands. There’s a lot of grief choking his chest today, a lot of regrets too. And the pain, the pain that was present in his legs and the phantom ones that never left his backside for long. Today is a very painful day, on both the emotional and physical fronts. He hates those days. But couldn’t help it when they happened; even if they and how useless they made him feel annoyed him to no end. Mental illness was a bitch, or whatever Gem said.

When he removes his head from his hands, he’s composed again, the best he can be, and biting down on his tongue in an effort to keep his sad little dragon sounds back. Worst part about being a hybrid that was, your body is moving and making sounds based on your emotions and not what your brain wants them to do. Though he was missing all of the limbs that could do that now. The involuntary little half dragon sounds were still unaffected, very unfortunately. The explosion couldn't even take away the inconvenient things, because of course it couldn’t.

Fwhip lifts his head again, all that grief and sadness and pain pushed down for now. Hopefully for the rest of the day too, if he’s lucky; because they wore him out and he’s sick of dealing with all that constantly. He lifts his head, eyes fixed back on his beloved little river, and doesn’t hear the footsteps approaching the room, too lost in his own thoughts and reminiscing. He also doesn’t notice the presence at the doorway, even though she watches him for a good few minutes, the world entirely blocked out as Fwhip remembers a happier time; in a different place with a different man he very much would give what’s left of the world to see again, even it would only be for a few precious seconds. He’d give anything, anything at all.

“You’re staring at the river again.” Gem notes from behind him, leaning against his doorway. Her brother jumps at the noise, not having heard her approach. She’s always good at sneaking up on people, much better than his clumsy self had ever been.

“And?” Fwhip asks, not turning to look at her. He keeps his eyes firmly fixed out the window, not wanting to tear them away. Not yet. He also doesn’t want to look at Gem. doesn’t want to see whatever pitying look she’s probably giving him. Probably.

“You need to talk about him, Fwhip.” His sister says, her gaze piercing into his backside. He shifts uncomfortably under it, a frown forming on his face in record time. This isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation, and it won’t be the last, either. Fwhip knows his sister is just trying to help, help heal and get better, but he really really wishes she would drop the damn topic. He doesn’t like thinking about it and all the pain it brings. “I don’t.” Is all he says, feeling his whole body go stiff with tension. He does need to talk about it, most likely. He knows it would stop him from waking up crying in the night, from dreams and resurfaced memories. But the thought of it feels too large, too much of a task to conquer. So the half dragon doesn’t need to. He’s fine. He’s absolutely fine not talking about it.

“ Yes, you do!” Gem exclaims, throwing her arms up in the air just a bit. The conversation just started and she already sounds exasperated beyond belief. Which means he’s being extra frustrating today, or she walked in here in a sour mood. The ginger thinks it’s a mix of both today. “You need to talk about him instead of just…just moping over it!”

“I’m not moping , I’m just reasonably sad. ” He fires back, glancing over his shoulder just a little bit. If only to throw a glare at his twin, if nothing else. Or a disapproving frown, at the very least.

“You walk around the river aimlessly and looking all dejected.” Gem deadpans, her arms being crossed over her chest. And, even though he wants to, the inventor can’t deny that she has a point. He does do that at least once a week, when things get too heavy and his mind needs to be cleared. Or he just needs to grieve . “That literally fits both definitions of moping!”

“I’ll talk about him later.” Is all he says, starting to turn back to the window again. So he can watch the river again, and then keep watching it for the next few hours. Like he’d been perfectly content to do before he was so rudely interrupted.

Gem sighs, sounding annoyingly exasperated at him. He hates when she sounds like that, he really does. It’s grated on his nerves like nothing else since they were children. Usually because it meant she was being stupidly stubborn and not getting the goddamn hint. (And for all he loved his sister, she could be the most grating woman alive at times. But hey, what were twins for?) “You always say that.”

“Maybe it's because I don’t want to talk about it!” Fwhip snaps, feeling his tail stub twitch when he speaks. If the rest of it was still there, he knew it’d be lashing with annoyance. And maybe his wings would be flaring out in anger too, if they hadn’t been so horribly torn to shreds months ago. He doesn’t want to talk about Jim —about him . It hurts too much, even though it’s been six, almost seven, months, it still hurts too much to talk about. It hurts that he left and went missing , that he’s not here and that Fwhip’s the reason he’s gone —

“Sorry….I’m sorry. For pressing.” Gem sighs, backing down a little easier than she normally might. She even gives him an apologetic look, before moving her own gaze to the wall. “I just want you to be happy again, that’s all.”

Fwhip snorted, his gaze fixed firmly on the river once more. He knows that he’s probably being too harsh right now, but he can’t help it. “Well that’s gonna be pretty damn hard.” His tone was sharp, and ears flattened back. He hadn’t truly been happy in almost a year, and didn't see that changing anytime soon.

“Sorry.” Gem repeats again, a frown in her voice once more. She's no longer leaning against the doorway, now starting to retreat back down the hall. Her voice fading with her footsteps, and the next words called over her shoulder distantly. Good riddance , is all her older brother can really think upon hearing them. Even if it is a bit mean spirited, admittedly. “I’ll go feed the cows now.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Fwhip says over his shoulder, his gaze never moving from the water. Gem can go feed the cows all she wants, like she was probably supposed to be doing right now. She can do whatever the hell she wants for all her twin cares, as long as he’s left alone and isn’t pestered about looking at the river again.

He doesn't need to talk about it.

#SORRY IM POSTING IT AT LIKE 10 PM I WAS BUSYY #ron.fic #reunited #fwhip #geminitay #empireshipping #empires smp #BUT THEYRE NOT FWHIMMY-ING YET SORRY #empiresfic #big fan of this chapter. much better than the first

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dajaregambler · 2 years ago

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HeliosR - Sing in the darkness - Chapter 2 - Part 25

Translation of Sing in the darkness from ‘Helios Rising Heroes’, a new side arc alongside the current main story arc Like the dawning light.

Marion: As always we will begin with squatting 150 kilograms in three sets for improving metabolism.

Marion: Afterwards for the legs, chest, shoulders, arms, back, core and abs… I suppose push-ups would suffice

Gast: Oi, Marion. Thought I said this earlier but, we only 30 minutes to spare for today

Marion: You’ll individually adjust in order to finish in 30 minutes.

Ren: How many sets?

Marion: Your pacing decides that, obviously.

Gast: Hell no! Don’t be ridiculous!

Marion: Listen, this should be a routine you do on the regular. Don’t start whining about this much already.

Marion: And that you dare to defy my instructions… If you want to become stronger, shut your mouth and obey me!

Gast & Ren: ….!

Bianchi: Oh dear. Same as ever, that Marion-chan

Sage: He’s with the rookies��

Jude: Are these rookies?

Sage: Yeah, they’re North’s Gast-kun and Ren-kun. Marion-kun’s mentees.

Jude: Huuh, first time I see ‘em

Bianchi: Hold on, you’ve seen them around. I’m sure you passed them how many times now since their admission

Jude: ? Don’t remember a single thing…

Bianchi: Because it doesn’t interest you? Not only the rookies, but you treat our superiors the same.

Jude: Haha, what can I say. Everyone except Bianchi looks the same in my eyes

Sage: Eh

Jude: Hm?

Jude: …No worries, Sage. I can barely differentiate you and Nico.

Sage: Um, haha… I’ll take that for what it is

Marion: Lower yourself more! Exactly there, stay put for four minutes like that!

Gast: Hyeeeegh! You demon!!!!!

Marion: Pipe down the squeling! Move an inch and you’ll get the whip!

Ren: Ngh…

Bianchi: Oh my gosh, Marion-chan’s like so spartan~ And his cute face hasn’t changed either♡

Sage: Marion-kun’s doing his best to be a mentor. All while he’s close in age with the rookies… He’s seriously impressive!

Bianchi: Fufufu

Sage: What is it, Bianchi-san?

Bianchi: Nothing. Seeing Marion-chan’s way of dealing with the rookies is making me subconsciously smile

Sage: ? Hm, right♪

Bianchi: Fufu

Bianchi: Ah that’s right, Sei-chan. Will you be going to Robin’s place after you’re done with training?

Sage: Yeah, that’s the plan

Sage: By the way Nico contacted me that he’ll be going before us. Think he wants to go grocery shopping and help with cooking.

Bianchi: Nico-chan has quite mastered Robin’s recipes during these three years.

Bianchi: His insatiable curious mind for food is something else. Honestly, it’s impressive…

Sage: Ahaha. He’s unusually calm and collected about other things, which makes it all the more remarkable

Jude: The hour for gathering is 6 pm, right? I’ll head off for some laps in the pool until it’s just about time.

Sage: Got it. I’ll go ahead and let Sensei now

Jude: I owe you for that one

Bianchi: You don’t have to force yourself to come each time?

Bianchi: Since you… hate Robin even till this day, no?

#helios rising heroes #heliosr #sage skyfall #bianchi law #jude ares #marion blythe #gast adler #ren kisaragi #sing in the darkness

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mockedandmonitored · 1 year ago

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What would the Clockmen be like in this au? I doubt the skibidis could do the same thing to Titan Clockman that they did to the other three with how tough he is.

I am on the fence about adding the clockmen due to their unpredictable nature. With the push that the Armada made on the main Alliance, they wouldn't be able to answer any distress calls or expand outward ( to what I assume is Britain-). With the TVmen faction being essentially crippled from the forces they're used to, the focus would be trying to get them back on their feet. Plus there's also the mess with Alpha's Dadd- sorry I mean Master. However if We're Just talking about the Clockmen for now and nothing else,

I would say that they would originally help provide resistance against the Armada after the defeat of the TVmen, however due to their lack of numbers, lack of (safe) transportation And Veeery few medics, they're more cautious. When the fall became worse, they had to flee and cut contact with the rest of the alliance or Chief would have to risk his own men for a uphill battle, Of course they took the hardware members which were with them during the fall but wouldn't put themselves out there to become too much of a threat to the Armada. After the war ended they fled far from what becomes the major city of the Armada, taking what they could from their original base and relocating to where the Armada would have a rough time finding them. Of course not everyone was on board but it would be hard to assist everyone if they were captured just like them. Topaz (or Titan Clockman.) 100% could wipe out a few districts and currently the only solution right now is to stab that MF in the core while he's looking at a butterfly. That or throw magnets at him till he drops. To be completely honest I have No way of fitting him in other than Chief telling the others it's too risky to rush in, not to mention pointless destruction against people who really don't know better at this point. To try and fit it in, the entire Metropolis is surrounded by a barrier which happens to protect against the Clockmen's abilities and would alert everyone if they tried to break it down. (Going under though? Maybe, that's for another race.)

#mocked&monitored #skibidi au #skibidi toilet #answered

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hellofeternity · 3 months ago

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Why I think the “industrial complex arc” is the best arc in ORV aka my stupidly long unfinished love letter PART 1

This post will cover extensive details of the plot from chapter 193 - Story Horizon V till chapter 281 - Demon King of Salvation III It will also have some mention of things from Before these chapters and After but not as much and they will be chapter marked. This range is also not super rigid, you can classify the arc as starting much later or earlier etc with multiple mini arcs wrapped up in it but to me it ultimately starts once dokja is in the demon realm and ends when the complex is transported from the demon realm by secretive plotter.

Starting off, storytelling requires good and clear foundations that the reader can rationalize so that they get entrenched in the world view being told. As a shallow example, in a murder mystery you follow the detective with an understanding that for there to be a mystery there tends to be an acknowledgement that murder is “bad” or at least there is a need for it to be “resolved”, a reasoning we can relate to. For a good story to tie us in, we as readers should be able to understand and respect this rationalizing for any hopes of going with it. However to take it a step further and build an engaging story, the writer who has spent a lot of time selling you this world premise needs to take a hammer to that foundation and rebuild it over and over again, the stronger the foundation the more intriguing when it breaks, If this mystery truly needs to be resolved, what are the consequences of pursuing it? Should the stones really be upturned as we have been convinced up to this point? Are these the answers you are searching for? What are the cracks in the characters logic, and subsequently yours the readers?

In a lot of good stories this tends to be a gradual build up only to come to a head, usually at the climax and or midpoint but not always, wherein the main character(s) have to contend with the flaws in their world view and grow from it.

As a more pointed example in the popular story of “One piece” we can clearly see that the foundations of the story break around the climax in “marineford arc” (Light spoilers) the story has spent a lot of time selling us on whimsy and the power of belief especially in the main characters conviction, of course luffy will become the pirate king! And while he has had setbacks he is the main character and the world view in this story is that he will always win. That is until he doesnt and we are forced to contend with why, and how that flaw has been present throughout the entire story gradually rising with the stakes, the first proper death happens and we have to adjust our worldview as readers as we realize what the stakes really are and that it's not as whimsical as we thought.(spoiler end) With this in mind, the “industrial revolution arc” is the moment in the story, coming right on the heels of the climax of the “prophecy arc”, where we start to see the cracks in the foundations laid down beforehand start to bear fruit.

I might sound dramatic when I call it the best arc, because in all honesty the things I will talk about are present throughout all of ORV and this arc cant stand by itself without everything laid before it and after it, these cracks extend all over the story and we face them over and over again, but what makes it really really good to me is that the industrial arc turns them from cracks in our world view into gushing veins that beat with the messages outlined and communicated clearly, this arc is the heartbeat throughout the entire story summarizing, explaining, and cradling our misconceptions, it's the unfurling of the core messages of ORV and its told in the most beautiful symphonic way possible.

For every foundation that ORV lays down in the story beforehand the industrial revolution arc answers back with vigor.

Foundation 1 : you can never truly know someone/yourself

Answer: so what? write on the wall anyways

(Chapter 180) The first time dokja ever communicates with the fourth wall is in the “prophecy arc” right after defeating the devourer of dreams, begging it to give him his mother back after he finally gets to hear her story written by her on the wall, the fourth wall for the first time, contradicts him in its narration

I didn't cry. 「 Kim Dokja was crying. 」

and seemingly turns against him, and that's when dokja realizes the wall is sentient. We learn in this moment to fear this wall that he reveres and loves because we recognize it's what's stopping him from connecting with his mother. “Writing on the wall” as a concept isn't introduced with dokja doing it first, but with his mother, his mother was the reason he needed the wall. She told his story, changed it and distorted it, but doing so has made his life a living hell. She wrote him out of his story and built a wall around him like an overprotective mother, she didn't give the courts the chance to prosecute dokja or even look at his story. Originally, this wall was her wall, the prison barrier between her and him and it was composed of the “story of an underground killer”.

He turns it off and we recognize just how much dokja relies on this wall, he can't face himself or try to understand his feelings or find out his attributes because to do so would put him at risk of the world that wants to harm him.

But then he turns it on and starts properly “communicating with the wall”

「 Thus, Kim Dokja can't understand it himself. Why is he trying to save his mother? 」 "I can't explain."

And because it gives him his mother back, protects him from the devourer of dreams and he gets closer to it he feels comfortable with it again. (chapter 186) In the events of the 73rd demon king selection scenario we also gain a deeper understanding of this wall and dokja’s relationship to it and his relationship to himself when yoo joonghyuk attempts to sacrifice himself for him.

He was certain that I knew all about him. However, Yoo Joonghyuk was wrong. I didn't know Yoo Joonghyuk. The Yoo Joonghyuk I knew would never do this.

And

Perhaps Yoo Joonghyuk didn't understand my words. There was a huge wall between us that couldn't be filled. However, it was due to this wall that I could see this guy again and again. Yoo Joonghyuk's remorse, his despair and his dreams. An indomitable will that didn't give up.

To dokja, the wall is made up of mostly ways of survival and subsequently personified to him as yoo joonghyuk. To dokja this wall could never be something negative even when it's stopping him from connecting with both his mother and yoo joonghyuk, it's his love, his protection and safety. Sure he has opinions on what could be better but the original stays the original in his heart, he would never dare to deface his wall/bible. The changes to yoo joonghyuk in this scene, the self sacrificial actions he is committing so he doesn't lose dokja, are jarring to him because he feels like he defaced his bible by inserting himself in it against his mothers teachings, and because kim dokja doesn't really understand who he is and doesn't think of himself as worthy, this scares him completely and he finds it hard to wrap his head around. (chapter 444) as an aside, this is also why when this sacrificial nature peeks out in 3rd round yoo joonghyuk he can't wrap his head around it as opposed to him accepting it readily when it comes to 999th yoo joonghyuk, who he has modeled this behavior off of because to him 999th yoo joonghyuk got there by himself and 3rd round got there because of him even though obviously they both are just completing each other. (end chapter 444)

The story with all of this makes a point of distinguishing between “writing on the wall” and “communicating with the wall” dokja cannot fathom writing on the wall yet mainly because he can't bare to insert himself on it but also because he doesn't know what “himself” is, but he finds talking to it less daunting and from there it's a stepping stone to being able to write on it.

—--

The beginning of industrial complex arc starts with all the characters finally out of the Seoul Dome, an ejection from the story as we know it and world we've come so entrenched in, we've never seen the characters in this setting we don't know who they are in moments of rest and we almost never get to hear their thoughts outside of what Dokja thinks of them.

In chapter 193 we get one of our first povs outside of dokja in the story without his oversight or knowledge, a jung heewon pov, a character who just like dokja has only ever existed outside of the story and can only exist in tandem with him, if dokja is not in the timeline she doesn't get the chance to exist. She is in korea outside of Seoul, surrounded by the familiarity of government structure and reality, she is bombarded with journalist who immediately distort her story alienating her from herself and from previous chapters we know to distrust how other people tell your story, orv has taught us that no good can come from selling yourself. The sight of journalists immediately puts the reader on alert, akin to seeing a dokkaebi, but jung heewon's first actions upon being faced with this scene is to show us a crack in the foundation, she frees herself from their narrative tells us more about herself that we weren't aware of and then most importantly

she tells dokja's story.

I'm not the hero you think I am. I wasn't a candidate for the national team and I didn't do well in kendo." Jung Heewon spoke into the microphone like she was talking to the whole world. "Before the destruction came, I was just a bartender working at a cheap bar." Her words caused a stir among the reporters. Nobody could believe it. Someone scoffed and someone else looked a bit jealous. In front of these gazes, Jung Heewon felt strangely free. She wasn't the old 'Jung Heewon' anymore. Jung Heewon realized it with all these eyes on her. The reporters kept asking her questions. How could a bartender become one of the last survivors? How could she survive and how did she become the Judge of Destruction? [The constellation 'Bald General of Justice' is looking at you with sad eyes.] [The constellation 'One-Eyed Maitreya' is reminded of someone by your words.] The indirect messages of the constellations came from all over the place. Jung Heewon opened her mouth without understanding her feelings. "Do you know Kim Dokja?"

and then the next scene is this

[Someone is talking about you.] …Talking about me? [Your story is being created on Planet Earth.] I could see what happened. Someone was talking about me on Earth. Who was it? It couldn't be Yoo Joonghyuk. Lee Hyunsung? Jung Heewon? Or Shin Yoosung? …I didn't know. Still, it was funny. Someone was telling my story. Someone still remembered… [The new story 'Kim Dojega's Legend' has been created on Peace Land.] …I hoped they would at least get my name right. I looked up at the night sky where the stars were invisible.

To have your story told, even clumsily/incorrectly, earnestly and with love is saving dokja, showing us the crack in the worldview that to sell your story is dangerous, the beginnings of an understanding for why constellations crave having their stories told even distortedly, and further sympathizing his mothers actions as an attempt for salvation. Though it doesn't excuse it.

what jung heewon and peace land are doing here is that they are writing on the wall, they cant reach dokja he is too far away and alienated physically and emotionally but their attempts are saving him.

on the other side of the wall in the demon realm far away from any semblance of reality fully entrenched in a fantasy world dokja has lost his physical human body he is more untethered than he has ever been in the story so far craving connection, craving stories so much that the fourth wall starts fully narrating for him because they are the only way he can survive

he reaches out to jang hayoung, a character that like jung heewon could only exist thanks to dokja, thanks to dokja leaving comments for the author. but those comments get distorted by the writer when making the character and whether you consider this “writing on the wall” or “talking to the wall” the end result is the same. jang hayoung isn't someone dokja is familiar with nor understands fully despite his deep understanding of ways of survival. Jang Hayoung is introduced as the second protagonist of ways of survival, and depending on how you look at it, dokja's OC. There are many parallels between them, for example in their first proper conversation jang hayoung asks dokja "what are you" dokja tells them to guess, and jang hayoung guesses “returnee”, to which dokja replies

I looked at his brightly shining eyes and somehow wanted to make fun of him. "Your reasoning is right but you need one premise" "whats the premise?" "The premise is that all returnees are strong." The beautiful young man's expression became strange at my words. "What do you mean by that? Don't you know what a returnee is? They are those who returned to their planets after gaining a powerful strength from another dimension or planet. How can those people be weak?" "I don't know. You haven't met all returnees in the world, right?" "That…" "For example, some returnees might not want to return because they hate their planet." The expression of the young boy hardened. "You are frustrated because you moved to a different dimension several times but didn't get much power." "…" "You got a new body but you don't have any talent." "…Wait." "You became frustrated by your lack of talent and decided to sit still in one place and live an ordinary life."|

My thoughts upon reading this is that the second way to survive in a ruined world, is to escape into a different world, become different people and learn to become stronger to cope with reality....just like reading a book. of course dokja doesn't actually ever outright say that he IS a returnee but he does admit multiple times that it could apply to him

"You are a returnee. Why bother interfering with the ecology of the Demon Realm?" "I'm not a returnee." In a sense, there was no word more accurate.

and also

If Yoo Joonghyuk suffered from the 'regression depression' then this person(jang hayoung) suffered from a thorough 'self-loathing'.

and so from here we see how similar him and jang hayoung are especially at the age he created them at and its why specifically dokja struggles to understand them a lot more than any other character in the series despite his deep fondness for them. Because jang hayoung is a part of him.

"In any case, quickly talk to it. You can communicate with that wall." Jang Hayoung's face turned red after hearing that he could talk to the wall. I wanted to tell him not to worry. After all, I was in the same boat in regards to talking to a wall

Dokja telling jang hayoung to talk to the wall is the stepping stone required to write on the wall of communication, but the wall of communication is just a chat box, and so here the two concepts finally meet “writing on the wall” and “talking to the wall” are one and the same for jang hayoung. To communicate is to create. When trying to instruct Jang Hayoung on what to write on that wall however, Dokja completely fails, showing us he really doesn't know how to communicate well with others and it's jang hayoung who manages to succeed in reaching out to people in part because jang hayoungs raison d'etre stemmed from a younger dokja’s need to connect with the author, the story, and himself. And upon meeting jang hayoung just like we have previously gained a more nuanced understanding for why constellations crave having their stories told, we also gain an equally nuanced understanding for why readers need to consume stories.

Because when we meet jang hayoung we simultaneously see more closely how the people in the demon realm have lost their stories and their narratives, they are just cogs in a machine that grinds stories down in a factory and the one story they do have is completely rigged against them that they don't even bother participating in it. and the one thing that gives them hope, the one thing that keeps them going is watching other people's stories through the screens. Inadvertently even though dokja's story in the 73rd demon king scenario is just another story born directly of exploitation by higher powers to be fed into the same machine that enslaves them for said higher powers amusement, it lays the grounds for hope and inspiration and sustenance for these people.

…It was a strange feeling. It wasn't their scenario but they sympathized with the stories I had experienced. Their faces looked like they received comfort.Maybe it wasn't just the constellations who needed stories. The stories were necessary for everyone.

But furthermore beyond just that because orv can't stop there! the biggest crack in this foundation is due to Jang hayoung’s true power at its core, how they blur the line between constellations and people by communicating with both equally highlighting how its specifically alienation under capitalism that creates a class structure of exploitation. when jang hayoung communicates with the abyssal flame dragon, a god who we know only as the embodiment of Evil and Power up to this point, who is in a position of exploitation over the incarnations and has participated in its systems, instead of an uncaring god we get an embodiment of all lost 15 year olds, we get to hear his worries and how much he cares for han sooyoung and this story and how he tries to help with all he can but he is limited with distance and ignorance. Jang hanyoung connects dokja with ABFD who in turn helps his friends dismantle that alienation and distance.

In (chapter 114) when we see Persephone eating the stories and how dokja avoids it we sympathize with dokja and Persephone comes of as cannibalistic and evil and we start to doubt our spot in the food chain, how we must be no better than persephone, but in this arc it sheds MULTIPLE nuances on that scene, to consume something for the sake of survival, with love with hunger, to communicate with it. A crack has formed in our understanding, in fact we get a recreation of this scene with the duke of the syswitchz complex in which she served him a similar spread and watched him gorge himself and she judged him for being simply a consumer recharacterizing even her presence in that initial scene. Up till this point we as readers see ourselves as consumers, the narrative has built us and dokja as just another cog in the machine feeding off of the dregs and causing harm and we agree because of how dokja frames it, that we are no better than constellations, but when we see how it helps others in the same situation survive and overcome their reality and how even constellations themselves like ABFD try their best to aid them in a miserable situation...is it truly as black and white as we have been led to believe? Can we forgive ourselves wherever we lie in the class structure? Can we reach out? What better way than for the constellation that is the embodiment of capitalism to tell us this in regards to even the most violent of constellations, the ones that could seemingly care less for the story who have hurt others and participate willingly into the system and are simply seeking to consume.

[Still, don't hate them so much.] It took some time for me to understand his words. [They just couldn't stand the loneliness. Whether it is a garbage or a noble constellation… they all acted like that because they like the story.]

Because you see when jung heewon and peaceland propagate dokja’s story and it being a GOOD thing is that it requires a world view that consuming a story isn't necessarily a bad thing, engaging with something is important - if we write on the wall, we also need people to read that wall. And subsequently you can never really truly know the people who are engaging with the story nor their reasons, unless you reach out, unless against all odds you communicate, no matter how unredeemable you think you are or you think they are, just that simple act is of an intense purity and power in a world built on capital and consumption.

#r1864 #orv #orv analysis #orv meta #its 4k words approx #last I counted anyways #happy valentines day to my favorite arc #this has been in my drafts for 2 years almost now #I have more written I have the whole thing outlined but not properly coherent #and this post isnt even halfway through foundation one hhhh #im at work every day thinking about this post i wish I could finish it there :(

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burningblizzard224 · 6 months ago

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“And carefree”

Pre school was at a church, 2nd presbyterian next to UT. It’s where I got my oldest nickname: “dimples.” Ms. Angela, I believe that is her name, would always pinch my cheeks when I smiled big.

So many people talked about my smile as a kid, talking about my dimples.

Pre-K is where I met my first few friends, Dale, Kaleb, and Kylie. Kaleb’s dad was the head pastor of the church, and Kylie’s mom ran the school. So I couldn’t tell you how much time I spent in offices and back rooms that the four of us would venture through. I can still remember Kaleb’s dads office, it’s where we hid when church was to boring some days. And I often went to his house after Sunday’s church. I did that till middle school. But we’re not quite there yet.

Dale’s house is where we’d go to hangout outside of school and church. He had an outdoor fridge with kaprisuns. There were always kaprisuns. Orange was my favorite.

I spent a lot of time anywhere but home. Since my mom was gone before I even started pre-k, and my dad worked more hours than I do now, I almost always had to be somewhere. I can see bits and pieces of places.

The old leather chair in Kaleb’s dad’s office, with a computer that hardly ran whatever game we tried and played. The playground, with a big tree in front of the swings. I loved the swings. And that tree has a big knot right at knee level. One person could just barely stand on it and be taller than everyone else on the playground. Between the main church and the small chapel there were so bushes, we could all four hide under them, it was our secrete base. Both Kaleb and Dale’s houses. Dale’s garage specifically. I can still remember Kaleb’s whole house just about.

Kindergarten I can just barely remember, Dale was the only one zoned for Harden Valley with me. Though Kaleb I still saw on Sunday’s.

I had the very last classroom in of HVE’s long wings. I can remember the ginger bread cookies we had for Christmas. I’ve always loved them since then.

1st grade was when I can remember actual feeling of school. We were being taught cursive. I always hated writing and now I had to write two ways? I couldn’t believe it.

I also remember my first billboard project. It was about bats.

As well as starting speech therapy, I could pronounce a lot of words. Especially S’s. My dad always tells the story of going to the zoo and I’d say “daddy! Daddy! Look!! Nakes! Look at the nakes!”

2nd grade I had Ms. Whitehead, and she knew I was a little different. She was unbelievable kind to me. This is also when my reading and math was far above average. I’ll never get that feeling back.

She’d let me play on the computer more than anyone else could.

Going into third grade, that summer. Is when Knox county did a re-zoning. Dale was moved to another school, as was another friend whose name I’ve forgotten but I can see his face in my memory.

This is also the summer my dad started me on common core math textbooks. I had been doing reading since 1st grade. We had a little chart/map thing that I’d put a sticker on each stop after reading a book or doing textbook work.

I was supposed to be *the* smart kid. Smart. That’s a poem I’ve been writing in my head since middle school. A poem I still haven’t finished writing.

Back to third grade.

I can remember so many tears. This is when we did weekly spelling test. I never could spell. I could read the note cards over and over, many sets covered in hours worth of tears.

The blue lines always made funny shapes when they get wet.

I love my father. But he didn’t understand. He didn’t understand Im not right. He didn’t understand Im not like others. My head doesn’t work like that. I tried. I really I tried. I wanted to be a good kid so painfully bad.

I knew every curse word by the end of third grade.

I still couldn’t spell. I still was broken.

Fourth grade was when I found my hate for school. Ms. Mastry. I wasn’t falling behind, I just was always wrong. I was wrong on so much. I think it’s why I hate being wrong now. It’s something I’ve had to work on. I can’t be wrong. If in wrong I’ll get yelled at. If I get yelled at I’ll cry. And I can only turn in so many tear covered work sheets.

I hadn’t had a school friend almost all of third grade. All my friends were spread. I had my church friends at 2nd prez, though it was basically just Kaleb. I had my martial art friends who lived in oak ridge so I never saw them outside of practice. And I had my apartment friends who went to private school or different grades.

I didn’t have a friend who I was their number one friend. And that’s so stupid. So dumb to think about. But I never had that one person who I talked to all the time or did everything with. It was all separate. All different personalities of myself.

I met Dane in fourth grade though, and he was a school friend only as well. But I do remember him well. Looking back we were both neurodivergent compared to most the other kids.

I can see certain things so clearly of this year. I can see the playground, and the same spot me and Dane always went. I can see the time I pulled his chair out from under him when he was sitting. He bruised his tale bone. It’s the only time I hurt someone I cared about. I still think about it now and then. I can still see his teary eyed face.

I can see a certain assignment. A news paper style work sheet on the Boston Tea Party. I didn’t do it. I don’t know why.

I do remember the sheer rage my father had in his voice. I cried so hard, for so long I had to ask for a new one because I ruined it. I said I lost it.

I moved the summer going into 5th grade.

My only consistent friends I had at the apartments were gone. Dane was gone, and we were going 50/50 too my now step moms church and mine. I only saw Kaleb about 26 times a year. I still had my martial arts friends but again, I can think of three times I went to their house to hangout outside of practice. I met Landon sometime around here I believe.

I’ve never had a number one best friend.

I’ve never had a long term, constant friendship longer than three years.

I’ve always ignored that it mattered to me

5th grade was at AL LOTT’s, I didn’t really care. I barely made any friends this year. I couldn’t name you a single person who I hangout with. I hardly remember any of it.

I started going into the deep end of the internet this year. YouTube role play streams, Skype, an anonymous chat room app, and Xbox friends.

I started staying up far too late. I would fall asleep at the desk. Even the teacher’s table. Ms Lenz hated it, though Ms. Towel was more understanding.

6th grade, west valley. I was moved in with my step mom and step sisters fully. I slept on a broken futon for almost a year.

My desk was right under a part of ceiling that slopped down into the room. The bottom barely tall enough to kneel under.

I still have that desk in my room, though if I stare at it too long all I can hear his a screaming voice.

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80-ursa-major · 2 years ago

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i was going through blogs and saw an old hp meta and i mostly respect that person's opinion so i went back and reread the last 2 books and that was fun and now i have so many feeling i need to let them out

-the main one is that i don't hate snape? like he's an asshole for bullying kids but after seeing his entire life flash before my eyes there was no room for anything but pity. mind you not the aw poor bb pity but the damn life really is a bitch and then you die. like your family's shit and you're ugly and everyone hates and you can't let go so you end up perpetuating the abuse cycle and there's no redemption. you failed, the end. kinda amazing tbh that she wrote him like that i.e a brave dude who managed to do the right thing after he ruined everything but also a thoroughly unpleasant human being till the end.

p.s: is he even a bad teacher? most of his students pass, his detention is scrubbing pots and he makes mean girls tier remarks. Meanwhile the good guys send children to the forbidden forest and expose them to dangeorus animals without protection lmao

+ the always~ line is overused and criiiinge just like the ship itself. The real goat line is ''And my soul? Mine? It cut me deeply cause i was also dumbledore's (wo)man's through and through and i didn't care about his hitler boyfriend and his secrets and i even went as far as to make a note in the book (the only note) to plead with harry not to doubt him. and he was the only thing remotely close to a friend snape had cause he was the ony one who knew the truth but he did use him cause he wanted to save harry and the world and even fucking draco and it just sucks, it all suuuucks

++and it's not like draco got a redemption, his entire family was dogshit and still got away with everything. i felt this so hard cause thanks to churchil the nazi collaborators in my country never got their comeuppance so their descendants also hold positions of power now and keep eroding our democracy

+++still can't believe the one that got rehabilitated was kreacher, like i hated him so much for sirius but hermione was kinda right. and it was so sad when he must have waited and waited for them to show up and eat that kidney pie

-i remember i hated how my precious perfect hermione ending up with he's just ron but this time i didn't care much. his rapid fire cool AND considerate moments in the battle were very forced in my opinion and a little too little too late but eh whatever as long as she's happy.

+i think it's cause as a kid i wanted her with harry but now he was kinda annoying, idk he can be a pretty annoying kid. i mean it makes sense considering what the poor child had to got Through. But also he's basically the messiah with his love spiel and dying for everyone and i'm sitting here with my hurt cheek and a core that craves a proportionate justice that doesn't exist.

btw i'll never understand people who still complain about albus severus. it's a shit name to be sure but if you spend 7 years with harry it should be obvious this is a 200% in character thing to do.

++adulthood is realising krum was the best and deserved better and we deserved better instead of unrepentant asshole malfoys

-i still hate ginny and molly. molly was poor but had seven kids and the only one who would always get the short end of the stick was ron. it was just so pitiful with the wand, and the cloak and the rat. and she was so obsessed with being harry's mom she got pissed at sirius for being the cool dad (dude had his issues too obviously but they should have met in the middle) and she thought the sun shined out of harry's ass so she froze a teen girl she knew cause of something she read in the Sun. Kinda hated how she got the bella kill too

ginny went from nobody to best at hexing AND sports AND doesn't cry AND she's so hot everyone wants her and lmao what kind of cardboard dating game self-insert is this?Her sense of humour has asuch a mean streak too. And the way they treated fleur argh I felt like i was in an aita about the stereotypical evil mil and sil. and the people who say it was mutual cause fluer was snob? yeah she was and i ripped her one too when she looked down on my favorite chaotic magic murderschool but they weren't bullying her because of that? they were being mean cause they were jealous she was beautiful and men went gaga, because they thought that meant she was shallow and of course she wasn't good enough for their son/bro

and the trashiest thing was when they made fun of accents. these people who only knew english and had never tried learning any other languages! like come on dude

-i had forgotten how hedwig dies aaaaaaa i still can't believe it was so fast and then nothing it still hurts...

#hp spoilers #revisiting my childhood #i hate teen relationship drama

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meissashush · 2 years ago

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For the fanfic writer ask: 16, 22, 37, 58, 71

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

Hahahahaha haaaaaaa, well they're called plot bunnies for a reason. Recently I decided to adopt the knitters practice of differentiating between Works in Process (WIPs) and UnFinished Objects (UFOs), where's WIPs are things I am actively working on and UFOs are things On Hold that I will come back to, just not soon. That said, this one is more of a UFO than a WIP, but I have a little fic that's a Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom AU for FFXV. Noctis gets sucked through the Crystal and wakes up in the Shrine of Resurrection, which he does not recognize and is long since abandoned by its former occupant (Link). From there he has to come to terms with his new reality and survive stranded on the abandoned plateau until hopefully somebody, anybody, comes to rescue him.

22. Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)

I don't do anything that I would consider too OOC for the main characters in any of my series. I'm happy to AU them to death, but I love the characters for a reason and too much change to the core of their being makes it no longer fun for me. I'm usually happy to play around with most anything else.

37. How do you choose where to end a chapter?

Where it feels natural. Most of the time, I write out a sentence and my brain just triggers a little DONE bell, and if I try to ignore it for the sake of my outline, then I end up hating everything after. Lewis Carroll summed it up pretty well, ironically.

“Begin at the beginning," the King said, very gravely, "and go on till you come to the end: then stop.” ― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

58. What part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? (Brainstorming, outlining, writing, editing, etc)

I like all of it! Except for when my brain decides I don't, then I don't! Hope this helps <3

71. When it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?

Uhhhhhhh, I mean I do keep notes. I do. I swear I do. Just, they're sort of everywhere. I've yet to come up with a concrete way of keeping track of everything except for my brain's predisposition towards storing mountains of useless trivia.

I do tend toward timeline development and character portfolios fro the nitty gritty details that are easy to lose, like heights and birthdates and catalogues of wounds.

Aeon Timeline and DabbleWriter are the two programs I actually consider worth paying for. I mean, also Word, but I bought a license to that in 2016 before the moved to subscription and I will NEVER let it die. The day it does is the day I download LibreOffice.

#ask game fill #my stuff #garbria #ffxv

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rogerswifesblog-updates · 2 years ago

Text

- Chapter 4 -

Previous chapter

Series Masterlist

A/N: yesss this is pure smut👀 I mean it. It’s mostly pwp. I really hope you’ll like it! I really enjoyed writing this even though I have no idea about bdsm, all I write is fiction and just…what my mind comes up with🤣😋 please leave some feedback and don’t forget to reblog!!!

Follow my main blog: @rogerswifesblog

Summary: Steve loses his virginity.👀

Pairing: sub!Steve x dom!reader

Warnings: virginity loss, virgin Steve, inexperienced Steve, p in v, protected sex, bondage, whip, taking photos during sex, oral f receiving, fingering, multiple orgasms, squinting , Dom reader, sub Steve

When Steve leaned over you, you pulled him into a bruising kiss, dominating him within seconds, till he was a panting mess against you. You could feel his hardness rub against your core in irregular thrusts, while one of his hands grabbed your ass tightly, the other one slowly sliding up to your breasts. Only then did you remember to talk to him about what exactly would happen-and if he was ready to really be with you.

“Steve-Steve wait, baby”, you whispered, wrapping your legs tighter around him, till he couldn’t move anymore-but he definitely tried for a while longer, before you grabbed onto his hair, pulling his head back so he’d be looking at you. “I need you to listen to me, okay? Come on, sit up”, he didn’t seem happy about it but did as you said, sitting up against the headboard. You definitely wanted to see him more often in this position; in the middle of your bed, resting against the headboard, preferably naked and with his hands bound behind his back or over his head. Maybe he’d allow you to cover his pretty eyes, even though you loved looking into them….His pouty lips would look beautiful with a gagball…oh god, maybe a collar-fuck, you were going way to far ahead.

“Do you know what BDSM is?”, you asked, standing up from the bed and walking to the walk in closed that was standing right in front of your bed. The doors have full length mirrors. You couldn’t stop yourself from smirking when you looked at your reflection. It took you a few years to finally buy everything for your bedroom. It’s your playroom, just…hidden. Steve hasn’t even noticed the hidden chains at the bed spots or even over his head. He’d soon find out what everything was for. If he wanted to, of course.

You saw Steve shake his head in the reflection, making you look back at him, noticing how his palm was rubbing over his dick. “Stop that”, he dropped it, immediately grabbing the comforter instead. Hm. He did listen, that was…good. Very good. You felt a warmth spreading in your chest, slightly proud at how good he was without even knowing it.

“BDSM”, you started, opening the doors, walking into the closet and opening a drawer. “Bondage.” You took out a rope, a pretty baby blue color. It would look good with his eye color. “Discipline.” You grabbed a whip hanging at the wall, not a big one, just something to start with. “Sadism and Masochism”, with that you turned around, caressing your own palm with the whip, dropping the rope onto the bed.

Steve looked at the rope and then at the whip in your hand. His widened eyes jumped from one thing to the other, before once again finding your lips. His own mouth agape. You couldn’t tell if he was mesmerized, horrified or just curious. You would be amused by his nervous restlessness, the grabby hands, and the curious, hungry look, if the circumstances were any different. But you felt pretty much as excited as him. “I like sex. And I have a lot of sex but…I have my preferences. I like to be in control, I love having my partner to be tied up. Dominating my sweet boy…A bit of pain here and there…but I know it’s a lot for someone who never had sex.” You looked back at him, straight in his hungry eyes. The iris was fully swallowed by the black of his pupils.

“A dom takes on the responsibility of leading, guiding, disciplining, and protecting its sub. If you’d like, you could be my sub, which means the receiver of my control, influence, and discipline. I don’t need a decision now. You can think it through, I can give you as much time as you need and even if you wouldn’t want it, we could think about a different solution. There are also certain rules a Dom should always discuss with them, for example a safe word and limits.” Putting the whip aside you brushed over Steve’s thigh with your hand, feeling how much he was trembling.

You kissed his jaw gently, but when he tried to capture your lips with his own you pulled away again. “Do you have any questions for now?” Steve shook his head, making the corners of your mouth twitch. “Use your big boy words, Stevie. I need more than head shaking.” He nodded again, a blush creeping across his cheeks, disappearing behind his button down. “No questions-I don’t have any questions”, he whispered, squirming a bit, pushing his thigh against your palm.

“Okay, sweetheart. Do you still want to have sex with me to-“ “yes. I want you. I want to have sex with you, please-I just-“ “Okay, okay, that’s definitely a very sure answer”, you couldn’t stop the giggle leaving you mouth, once again kissing his jaw. He was really making your heart race.

You sat down closer to him, taking his hand and squeezing gently. “Then I need to discuss with you two more things tonight, a safe word and your limits-at least for now.” Steve gulped, pulling his eyebrows together. A little wrinkle appearing between them. “I don’t want to hityouwithawhip”, it was nearly impossible to understand his words, but you quickly shook your head.

“No Steve, that’s not for you-at least you wouldn’t be the one using it. And it’s not there to hurt. It’s to…make you feel good. But if you don’t want it, I can put it aside, yeah?”, Steve thought for a moment, before slowly shaking his head. He really had no idea what was coming, but he trusted you. Somehow your voice calmed him down. Well, at least part of him, because his dick was still throbbing in his pants, ready to burst.

Steve took the whip in his hand, for a moment looking at you. For approval maybe? So you nodded. He pulled his sleeve up, tracing pale skin. “Can I try it on my arm?”, before you could answer he already swung the whip, definitely way too strong. Without thinking you put your hand on his soft skin, feeling the sting in your whole hand. Thank god he didn’t hit himself, it would’ve make him hate BDSM before he even fully tried it. For a moment you closed your eyes, exhaling quietly. It’s not the worst thing you had felt. “Oh god-I’m so sorry-I-“ “It’s okay sweetheart. It’s not that bad”, you reassured him quickly, cupping his face with your other hand. “That’s my job. Making sure you don’t get hurt, okay? But from now on please listen to me and before you do something; wait for an answer, are we clear?”, your voice was gentle, but firm, more similar to the one you’d use during a scene.

You watched as Steve’s cheeks blushed furiously, even reaching his ears. “Yes, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again”, you smiled, giving him a gentle kiss on the lips. “My sweet boy. You’re learning so fast, aren’t you? The best student I could’ve asked for”, you whispered against his lips, making him whine nearly inaudible.

“You remember when I told you about saying ‘red’ when I do something you don’t enjoy?” The memory of your lips around his cock made his dick leak even more pre-cum in his boxers, but he nodded mumbling an answer. “That’s the Traffic Light Safe Words system. It’s there to communicate how you are doing in a scene. Red means you want everything to stop-it doesn’t matter for that reason, if you’re uncomfortable or in pain or anything else-if you want me to stop immediately, you’ll say red. If you want to slow dowm, maybe need a breather or just need to get used to everything…just say yellow and I’ll give you a bit of time or change the scene. Green means everything is alright. Do you understand?” “Yes.” There was still something missing…

Oh right.

You bit your bottom lip, before slowly sitting onto his lap. “And I like being called mommy or mistress, can you do that for me? Call me that during a scene”, you asked quietly against his lips, making him nod. You could feel the heat radiating from him and it made your whole body vibrate. God, he had no idea how much he affected you. “Yes, I can do that” “yes, I can do that, who?” “Yes, I can do that, Mistress”, he whispered back. “My sweet boy.” The purr in your voice is delightful, lyrical.

With that you pressed your lips hard against his, not being able to stop yourself from grinding down hard onto his bulge. He was trembling, grabbing onto your hips and ass strong enough to leave bruises. His quiet cursing surprised you, while he seemed like not knowing if he should stop rubbing against you or continuing-but then you understood why. Warm wetness touched your slip, while you were still moving against him. “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-“ “Fuck sweetheart did you get all worked up from hearing me talk? Did you imagine what I’d do to you?”, you asked quietly, kissing his neck. Steve nodded, whining as you rolled your hips harder against his sensitive dick, still filling his pants.

“Wait-I’m-fuck-fuck-so sensitive-too much”, he mumbled, trying to move his hips away. You stilled your movements, looking at his pretty glassy eyes. “Are you saying you need a bit of time? Yellow?” If you had been honest with yourself, you had already suspected he’d be sensitive now after coming, but you wanted him to try to use his safe words-making sure he knew you’d listen and also, that he had the chance to say them whenever he needed to. You just wanted him to remember. He was a virgin and definitely needed to learn how everything worked. Even his own body-you needed to do that too. You’ve never had a virgin. “Yes…yellow…I’m too sensitive, I’m so-“ “never be sorry for using one of your words, okay sweetheart? I’m happy when you’re comfortable enough to let me know if you need a bit time” A soft smile slipped onto his lips. “Yes mistress”, with that you gave him a quick kiss before standing up and stepping away from the bed. “My perfect boy. Learning so fast”, you whispered, reaching behind you and pulling the zipper of your dress down.

Steve watched you with an open mouth, as your dress slowly fell to the floor. The expression he made was priceless. His eyes are trying to linger on a part of you for as long as possible, but also trying to watch more. You were wearing black underwear, it wasn’t anything too revealing, but probably more than he had ever seen-unless while watching porn, because you just knew your boy watched porn, needing something while he touched his pretty cock.

“You’re so beautiful…Mistress”, he whispered gently, grazing his hand along your thigh. You let him. It was his first time, you didn’t want to make it too hard for him. He should enjoy touching you while he still could. “Thank you, babyboy, but you haven’t seen me naked yet”, you grinned as his eyes widened in surprise. A soft laugh escaped your chest.

“Have you ever thought we finished? Just because you finished, doesn’t mean it's over”, you couldn’t stop yourself from slipping a bit of humiliation in today's scene. Maybe you could already find some of his secret kinks? You hoped so.

His cheeks reddened, while he bit on his bottom lip and squirming a bit. “Could I-could I…use my…mouth on you?”, he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed right before you. He was looking up at you, his hands on your thighs, for a moment just admiring the work of art you had on your skin. The many tattoos normally hidden by clothes. He wanted to trace them all with his fingers. Or even better with his tongue. Especially the ones on your inner thighs.

“You want to eat my pussy, sweetheart?” Your question made his face even redder than before, but he nodded. “Yes, I want to…eat your pussy. Want to taste you, mistress”, Steve whispered, gently letting his hands slide a bit higher up to your panties. You watched as he slowly pulled them down, stopping before he could reveal anything more. Once again he lifted his gaze. “May I take off your underwear?”, he asked, surprising you.

Smirking, you brushed your hand over his hair. “Yes, you don’t have to ask today. Today is your day, baby. Enjoy your birthday”, you whispered against his lips, before straightening your back again. The happy smile that appeared on his lips made your heart flutter.

He was so fucking cute.

“Wait, could you take off your bra?”, he asked quickly, as if you’d deny him that. Without saying a word you reach behind you. Within seconds your bra fell down onto his hands, which were still holding your hips. A gasp escaped his lips.

Oh right. He probably hadn’t expected that.

“You-your nipples are pierced?”, his question was hushed and quiet, just like if it was a secret. You took his hand from your hip, sliding it over your stomach up to your breast, letting his fingers rub over your nipple, especially the metal ring. Steve couldn’t stop himself pinching your nipple lightly, making you moan. Even he moaned, not knowing why. It was just so….wow. He felt like his brain was turning to mush. The only thing he could think about was pleasure. And to please. He wanted to please you. Wanted to hear the pretty moans again.

He felt his dick twitch in his messy pants, wincing slightly at the uncomfortable feeling.

So attentive how you were, you noticed it immediately, stepping a bit away from him. “Come on, take off your filthy clothes, my filthy boy”, you opened two buttons revealing more of his beautiful pale skin, marked with a few freckles.

You’ve never felt so attracted to someone.

Ungracefully Steve took off his clothes, throwing them on the floor. Normally you’d make him fold them. Maybe pick up with his mouth…but not today. They stayed right on the floor where he left them.

Out of habit Steve covered himself with his hands, making you click your tongue. Your beautiful boy wouldn’t be ashamed of himself. You’d make sure of that. “Don’t hide that gorgeous cock, baby. I’ve already seen it…even had it in my mouth. Made Mistress so happy. The thickest cock she had”, you whispered pushing him once again to a sitting position. He dropped his hands to the side, grabbing the comforter to hold onto something.

His dick was already half hard and twitching. Fuck, just gorgeous. He’s uncut and you’d definitely play with his skin more the next time you’d suck his cock. The last time you had him in your mouth was rushed and you hadn’t probably taken care of him. Not like you’d normally do it. “Can’t wait to have you back in my mouth”, you grinned, stepping even closer, till you were standing right in front of him.

Steve bit his bottom lip, looking at his messy from cum hardness for a moment, before finding your slip again. His hands grabbed onto it, pulling it immediately down, revealing your freshly waxed pussy and- He gasped again seeing the little tattoo right over your lips. ‘Bon appetit.’ He definitely felt like he could pass out at this point.

“Should-should you lay down or something?”, he asked you, but you only laughed quietly, shaking your head. Not saying anything you lifted your leg and putting your foot on the bed, revealing your glistening folds to him. You were already wet and throbbing-and he could see it. At this point he was hard as a rock again.

Steve gulped, slowly leaning to your core and licking flat over your pussy. A gasp escaped your lips feeling his wet tongue glide along your folds, collecting your juices. His tongue dipped into your channel, before licking you once again. If accidentally or not, he found your clit, circling it a few times, before repeating it all a few times. You moaned his name pleasurably, grabbing his hair and pulling him even closer, while he ate your cunt out like it was his last meal. Or his first. You couldn’t tell. But he was desperate.

For Steve being a virgin, he used his tongue pretty good, truly surprising you. His hand inched slowly over your inner thigh to your core, stoking over your folds before carefully pushing one finger in. The feeling of your soft muscle made him quietly gasp against your core. “Don’t worry, babyboy, I’m not made of sugar”, you felt Steve grin against you pulling away for a moment. “You sure taste so”, his comment made you giggle. Literally giggle. Even he seemed to cackle a bit, before continuing licking your clit and moving his hand in you. “My sweetheart, so good to me”, you whispered, gently running your nails up the back of his scalp, taking handfuls of his hair and tugging, eliciting a moan from him that you could feel vibrate against your core.

“Use a second finger, baby. And curl them-fuck, yes just like that-oh god, Steve”, you gasped when he hit your g-spot dead on, making more wetness gush around his fingers. “Making Mo-Mistress feel so good”, you moaned, nearly not noticing the wrong name slipping from your mouth, just being overwhelmed by pleasure. Even though you usually had many orgasms and great scenes, it never felt like this. Never have you felt such intense pleasure.

Was it because you really liked Steve?

Just as if Steve heard your thoughts he looked up at you, still lapping at your core but you could feel a smile forming on his lips. His bright sparkling eyes find yours, making it impossible to look anywhere else. He was beautiful. Tousled hair sticking out in all directions from your hard grip. His cheeks still coated with a soft blush.

“Wanna make a girl come for the first time? Because you’re about to, baby”, you moaned, moving your hips slightly against his tongue, his fingers fucking you much quicker at this point, always curling into your sensitive spot. It’s like he

When the hot pleasure rushed over you, you had to grab onto Steve’s shoulder otherwise your knees would’ve given out. “Fuck-Baby-“, moaning you threw your head back. Your velvet walls clenched around his thick digits, sucking him in, while the throbbing made Steve imagine how you’d feel around his cock.

Still moving his fingers, drawing out your orgasm, Steve watched as your release and his spit cover his hand, slowly dripping down onto the floor beneath. He had always imagined how it would be to finally please a woman, but he had never imagined it like that. Not wanting to stop pleasuring you, he latched onto your clit again, ripping a loud moan out of your throat. „Oh my god, Steve, you’re amazing, baby-fuck, do you want to make your mistress come again? Fuck-“, you praised on a groan, gripping his hair even rougher, pulling his face right to your pulsing cunt.

While he wasn’t able to speak, he did nod against you, pushing himself even more into you, his fingers moving in a face pace, licking around them before suckling at your bud. Steve had you trembling in no time, feeling how much your leg shook under his palm. You hadn’t actually expected him to bring you to a second orgasm within only a few minutes, but he surprised you-and himself, judging by the look on his face, when some more of your release coated his hand, running down to his wrist.

Panting you let go of his hair, putting down your leg. Steve’s breathing was as irregular as yours, a sparkle in his eyes that showed hunger. Need.

Your lips twitched to a smirk, pushing him back onto the bed and telling him to sit at the headboard. The good boy he was, he quickly obeyed, looking curiously as you grabbed the rope and sat onto his lap.

Before using it you pushed your hips to his, gliding your drenched folds against his shaft. Steve’s gasp that followed sounded like relief. Relief finally feeling something against his own sex.

Watching his open mouth for a moment you leaned down, capturing his lips in a hungry kiss. Your own taste on his tongue made you hum, chasing it even more by deepening the kiss. Your teeth clang together, tongues filling each other's mouths. It was hot, messy and fierce.

Until it wasn’t.

The kiss became gentler, slower…soulful.

A soft kiss between lovers.

You kissed for a while, until you two were smiling too much to properly kiss, so you had to part. Steve looked at you with love written all over his face. His eyes never left your face, even though you were fully naked, with your breasts on eye level. The part he mostly enjoyed looking at were your eyes. Not your body.

And this made you feel something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

It scared you, to feel this.

So you took your eyes off him, trapping the whip from before. His gaze followed your movements curiously. “Give me your palm, sweetheart”, you said. After holding out his palm up you took Steve hand and slapped it gently with the whip. He jerked, but you could tell it was just from surprise, since his breath hitched excitedly. “How does that feel?” “It’s…it’s tingling”, he answered, still looking at your hand holding his.

“Good tingling or bad?” There was silence for a moment. “Good…very good tingling. I liked it”, his words were much quieter this time, only a whisper for you to hear.

A smile crept onto your lips, before giving him a quick peck on the mouth. “It won’t be harder than this, I promise. Would you let me tie your arms up?”, you asked. This time he answered much quicker, nodding wildly. “Yes-yes mistress, tie me up, please.”

Grabbing the robe again you pulled out the eyebolt from the headboard, where it was hidden. Steve noticed this, his eyes widening slightly, curiously. There was so much to learn about you and he wanted to know everything. Every little detail. Not only in the bedroom, but also just the whole you.

“Give me your arms, Pretty”, you wrapped the rope around his forearms, smiling at the color so similar to his eyes. Just a soft baby blue. You’ll love this color forever, always reminding you of him.

Pulling gently at the knots you checked if it was too tight for his circulations, making sure his wrists weren’t too tightly bound, before securing the rope through the eyebolt. “Are you comfortable? Is it too tight?”, you slid down from his lap, watching him move his hands a bit and pulling at the restraints. “No- I mean-yes-I-yhm…I’m comfortable, yes and no, it’s not too tight”, he blushed, ducking his head for a second.

A soft laugh rose from your chest, while you grabbed the whip again, shaking your head slightly about his adorable stuttering. “Colour?” “Green, Mistress. Green…”, Steve bit his bottom lip.

“Perfect…then Mistress will make you feel good, yeah? Close your pretty eyes for me, sweetheart. Good boy, making Mistress so proud. You're a great student, have I told you that?”, a whine followed from Steve, squirming against the restraints. His leaking cock bobbed with every movement, leaving pre-cum all over his lower stomach.

You bit onto your lip, just watching him for a bit. You could tell he was waiting for you to do something, but never once did he peek.

What a good boy, indeed.

Slowly dragging the whip over his calf you caressed over his leg, till you stopped at his thigh. For a second you let it rest against his skin, before hitting his skin and making him jump in surprise. A moan leaving his lips. He opened his eyes, looking back at you, a deep blush rising over his chest, before he closed his eyes again. “I won’t do it again, promise”, he said, making you hum quietly.

It was incredibly alluring to test his words, but not today.

Once again you swapped him gently with the whip on the inner side of his thigh, making his legs tense for a moment, before a quiet gasp escaped him. This time his eyes remained closed. “Good boy, keeping your promise…making me so proud”, you watched as the blush rose over his chest to his face with every word.

The next few hits were all meant for his thighs, after you slowly caressed his abs with the tip of the crop, gently brushing to his nipples. Steve’s breath hitched and you noticed how he pushed his chest out against the feeling around his nipples. “Please…”, his quiet begging made the corners of your mouth twitch. He was beautiful. A masterpiece-your masterpiece. Just for your eyes. And you wanted to see more of him. More of his reactions, hear more gasps and moans…have him coming apart under your hands.

Swatting his nipples made him moan loudly, pulling at the ropes, while his whole body twitched. You could see how much pre-cum was leaking from his tip, coating him with a glistening layer. “My beautiful boy…want more, hmm?”, you purred, not needing to wait long for an answer. “Yes please-yes please mistress-I need more”, he whined.

You clicked your tongue at his words, pulling the whip away. “I know what you need, sweetheart. You only may ask for more”, a grin crept over your lips when he nodded. “Yes, Mistress…I..please give me more…please”, he begged prettily.

“What exactly do you want, sweetheart?”, you asked, your tone mockingly unknowing. Steve’s next grumble was using, while he held onto the ropes. “Please…hit me with the whip-please” “where? Where do you want your mistress to use the whip on you? Come on, tell me, tell M-” “My cock! Fuck, use it on my cock”, he moaned, fidgeting with his hands, not being able to fully hold onto them from being tied up. “Please, Mistress, please use it”, his abdomen was wet from all the mess he was making. His dick angry red and pulsing, throbbing hungry. Neglanced. You’d love to just take a picture of him and hang it up so you’d be able to admire your work whenever you needed. Steve was magnificent. His body on full display, his beautiful pecks and thighs slightly red from the slaps and especially the strong blush. His hair was a total mess, only adding to this aphrodisiac picture.

Biting down on your bottom lip you grabbed your phone, using the other hand to brush the whip over his abdomen, pushing his cock away from his abdomen, before letting it slap back against his skin, leaving a trail of precum behind. “You’re so beautiful, Steve…Mistress would like to take a few pictures, are you okay with that baby? Give me a color”, Steve nodded immediately. “Yes-yes, yes, Green. So Green.”

You couldn’t stop the grin forming on your lips, letting the crop glide over his skin, while taking a picture of his messy cock and beautiful body. His pouty lips, swollen from biting down on them all the time.

When the crop strikes over his shaft more juices run down his length, even coating your whip with it. You took a picture then, too and swatted his tight balls with the tip, making him moan loudly. “Mistress-please-“, he didn’t even know what he was begging for, but when you repeated this action he knew that was exactly what he needed. You knew what he needed. The click of another photo being taken made his chest flutter. He never thought about making nude pictures, never having taken any and now here he was; tied up and starving for anything you wanted to give him and he really couldn’t wait to see the pictures in the end. Wanted to know if he looked as desperate as he felt.

He heard you putting down your phone, but the crop never left his body, brushing softly over his skin. Especially his sensitive cock.

The next slap came unexpectedly and was harsher than the ones before, right against his tip. “Color?” “Green! Green, so green-more-please-“, he moaned, getting exactly what he asked for when you hit his balls harshly. Then his shaft. His tip, again. And again….and again…

At some point you noticed tears streaming down his face and after asking about his color he gave once again a very enthusiastic ‘green’. His mess was running down his cock, over his balls and onto the comforter beneath him. The red mushroom head of his dick was leaking constantly, looking angry for attention. And while Steve enjoyed the whip against his skin, you couldn’t wait anymore, needing to feel him fill you.

After such a long time of teasing him you could feel your own slick running down your tattooed thighs. Steve would probably wait as long as you’d make him but you couldn’t wait yourself anymore.

You needed him.

“You can open your eyes. Yeah baby, you’ve such pretty eyes, did you know that? Love looking into those bright blues”, you leaned down kissing his lips gently. Steve smiled at you when you pulled away, finding a condom in your drawer. His eyes were teary and slightly bloodshot. So beautiful…

When you sat over his lap, his legs were already trembling, shaking from overstimulation. “Are you ready baby?”, you asked softly, while putting on the condom over his thick cock. Steve nodded and watched as you took him in hand and rubbed against your wet fold. He could already feel the warmth of your cunt, making him whine quietly.

“Already feels so good, baby…can’t wait to have you fill me up. Stretch my pussy around you”, you moaned against his ear, while he felt you slowly lowered yourself, letting him sink deeper into you.

His heart was pounding, chest raising uncontrollably, breathing hard. It was happening. He’d have sex for the first time. With you. Right now. He was feeling how your cunt was swallowing him whole, sucking him into your heat.

The feeling of your warm velvet walls is so welcoming. He never thought this would feel this good. So incredible. When he was fully seated in your channel, you stopped moving, even needing to adjust to his girth. Your hands slowly stroked over his chest, grabbing his peck with one hand, brushing the other one to his neck and into his hair.

When you slowly started moving, Steve’s moans filled the air, when you too couldn’t keep yourself from gasping pleasantly. “Oh god, baby, you feel so good. Can’t believe what an amazing dick you have-and only for me. My babyboy”, you moaned bouncing on him quickly-and Steve also started fucking into you by lifting his hips, making him hit your g-spot unexpectedly.

Steve felt how you clenched around him, trying to move his hips to hit the spot more often. And fuck did he manage to do that. Everytime he touched your sensitive spot, you felt blinded by pleasure. “Mistress-fuck I-I’m not gonna last long”, he whispered against your neck, his lips trailing down to your chest and latching onto your pierced nipples, licking around the ring.

“It’s okay baby-come for me-I’m close too”, you moaned brushing with one hand between your bodies to circle your sensitive clit. His suckling at your nipple, the hard pounding against your g-spot and also now adding the stimulation at your clit was enough for your orgasm to rush unexpectedly over you, nearly making you blackout from how intense your orgasm was.

Squirting all over his dick, you started to move your hips even faster, wanting for him to orgasm, too. And feeling your muscles tighten around him, he was thrown over the edge with one last trust, moaning your name into your ear, kissing and sucking at your neck. “Oh my god”, he whined, his whole body jerking against you while he filled the condom.

His head dropped against your shoulder and you slowly released the rope from the eyebolt, before starting to untie his wrists. Steve let you do whatever you wanted, while just letting his face rest against your skin, feeling completely exhausted. “Feeling okay, sweetheart?”, you asked into his hair, massaging his sore arms.

Steve giggled into your shoulder, slowly lifting his head, his arms wrapping around you, “Feelin’ amazing…made you squirt”, he grinned cheekily, pulling you a bit closer, forgetting he was still in you, which made the two of you gasp. “Yes baby, you did. You’re amazing, like I said, a perfect student…learning so quick…learning how to please your mistress already at the first time”, you grinned, kissing his cheek softly. His cheeks blushed lightly, while you kissed along your jaw, too. You stroked over his hair, enjoying the sweet cuddles.

“Happy birthday, baby.” The words were in a hushed voice, but loud enough for him to hear. “Thank you, love”, he sighed softly.

Steve’s fingertips brushed gently over your waist, making you squirm against him. He immediately stopped the kisses, grinning at you. “You’re ticklish”, he whispered, the words so quiet like a dark secret between you. You bit your bottom lip and nodded, feeling his fingers once again caress your skin.

“Let’s get cleaned up, we’re filthy”, you laughed, as he only again pressed his fingers into your sides.

Showering with Steve was a great feeling, soft touches, washing each other, while Steve also couldn’t stop admiring your beauty. Before that he wasn't really able to do that, too excited about what was happening. But now? He had all the time he needed to memorize your ink, your soft curves and small scars. Anything, really. He loved everything he saw. You were beautiful.

“Come on Stevie, let’s get to bed”, you whispered against his wet chest, while you two just stood there in each other's arms. Steve may be younger, but he made you feel safe in his embrace, in his strong arms.

He grumbled slightly, but let go of you and stepped out of the shower. After drying off you walked back to the bedroom, where you pulled off the messy comforter, thankfully not making it any worse, before throwing it in the laundry basket. You were glad to have bought waterproof comforters for your bed, especially useful in moments like these.

Steve just stood at the edge of the bed, covering himself with his hands, making you laugh quietly because of that. He was still blushing but this would probably change soon, he’d probably start being comfortable in his nudity in no time. His gaze flickered around, curiously looking for what else he hadn’t noticed before.

“When did you start with the..the BDSM…stuff?”, he asked after you two laid down, with your head against his chest. You couldn’t remember the last time you had cuddles with someone. One of your hands slowly stroked over his chest, over the redness left behind from the whip and your nails.

“Really started experimenting when I was…twenty, I think. At first I had to Learn a lot about myself…what I like…what my limits are…it was easier after meeting a few people. For example Natasha, she’s my best friend and we often attend a bdsm club-which you don’t have to, of course. And I don’t need to either if you wouldn’t want me to”, you mumbled, feeling Steve shake his head. “No, I don’t mind that. Especially when it’s something you really enjoy. Maybe I’d go with you one day there…but not yet. I’m not ready I think…” “no, you’re not, baby. It’ll take a while”, you kissed his chest gently.

Steve’s fingers brushed over your back, still not believing he was really laying with you in your bed. You had sex. You two were dating, at least that’s what he hoped and you’d go on a real date soon.

He was the luckiest guy in the universe.

“Did you have many sex partners?” This question made you just lift your head, looking at him with raised eyebrows. “Do you really want to know the answer?” He laughed quietly, shaking his head, but still grinning cheekily. “Maybe not but…like, serious partners? Relationships?”

You thought for a moment. “Serious relationships…only two. My first boyfriend, we met when we were sixteen and we've been together for two years. And the second one…we broke up two years ago. We were a couple for three years. He had proposed on our second anniversary but…I’m glad It didn’t work out in the end.”

You talked for a while, not wanting to stop, but exhaustion finally took over you.

And so you two slowly fell asleep. Happily.

Not knowing what would interrupt your happiness and peace in the morning.

Next chapter

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The next chapter will probably take a bit longer, I’m busy with my exams:(

Tags: @inlovewithchrisevans

#steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #sub steve rogers

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