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astralnymphh · 1 month

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making ellie ur anal princess ౨ৎ

𓆩.𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝𓆪: subbottom!ellie, bit of a brat obv, spanking ofc!! rough n' nasty, sorta soft, an iota of lore buildup tbh im not doing all that, some fluff at the end i think, 2.4k+ words . BIG TEXT VERSION . MASTERLIST . DAILY CLICK . IMPORTANT TLOU POST . PALESTINE INFO . ART BY LOTTIE

Wintry brumes swept through Jackson this week had to have carried some alteration of spores, for Ellie to even chew her teeth over the word yes. Bizarre as the idea should strike— "Wanna try it from behind?"— recoiling lips over her ear rim, sunken in a seat behind, and masticating denimed ass with your honed nails; Ellie was all in, blushed to the bone.

Was she at all candid originally? No, that goes without saying. Humdrums and spectrums of explicitness on your part pervade each crack and inept cough of chatter that she starts days beforehand, throat literally cracking whenever the topic emerges on dreary mornings or alive nights. Twiddly of her thumbs or knees, breaks the thick silence on a spitty click— uncalled for finger jabbing you to see if you managed to evade sleep long enough, "Um, so— it really won't hurt if I.. god— this is so fuckin'.. uh, keep.. practicing?"

Practicing. One way to say it. You assured Ellie; "Yeah, unless you're a masochist praying for a death wish." which maybe could've been articulated nicer, but she's your girlfriend, and one of her major ground-breakers for falling smitten with you— your humor. Spankin' her butt the second she spanks yours, (In turn making her the butt of the running: "That's gonna be you on Friday." joke), or nonchalantly slipping the notion that she'd "Look hotter than a V.S model." in a black thong, flopping your head and averting casual gaze to blank spaces undeserving of your eyes as if your comment wouldn't fuck with her brain for the ticking remains of daylight. Just crude humor, and not serious concepts, right?

So beyond the shadow of doubt, of course, when she's bare lain, spreadeagled of her legs caging you in, maraschino face smudged flat to her bed, perky ass in yours and teased by the caphead of your plastic dick— you give all the humor that girl can get, and fourfold.

"Don't need to clench, baby. Your butt isn't going anywhere."

Ellie clenching for her oh so cherished life felt more like she was squeezing the nervous nectar out, pearly bullets brought upon by all that foreplay— or anticipation— bedazzle the creased parts and frowns she knits as you wrap a grip on your lubed length and brush the tip against her asscrack. It prods at her, mentally. Pokes her to open up, literally.

A drawn-out whine, low and wispy, breezes her throat, "Shut up," jaw tensing grit conjointly, "You're such an ass— and don't you dare make an ass joke, I swear." you suppose she attempted to rein in some essence of control with that suppressed tone of threat, cute threat if we're mincing no words, but it's futile. Can't rise above when you're pinned below.

You snicker, contrary hand swerving over and beginning to palm her butt's half-taut half-doughy feel, and yielding it to a pull, "Hmhm." the soft heat of your touch inciting her muscles to relax, just a slight. "Want you to put it in, set the pace for me, mkay?" your voice curls at the end, tilting your face even if she couldn't exactly see.

"Huh.." she releases a breathy chuckle into the mattress, then shimmies onto her ruddy, pockmarked elbows to allow a pivot of her head. "Makin' me do all the work, can't you just do it already?" she gripes, teetering between frustration and impatience, and nearly hissing, "Fuck me already." instead. Fair skin contours along her shoulder blades as she reaches back, little dimples you wanna deepen with presses.

Muggy fingers skid the bends of your knuckles, "Ts' cute when you do." and you slacken your grip, the harness lacing your hips tugging in nooks as she takes you and levels it to her hole, not quite inserting it before another scoff unbinds from her throat.

"Uh-huh, totally." the brat card was the only thing she could play, Ellie being Ellie— plus, fuck you for shoving such a vulnerability into her by eclipsing over her body and deciphering which touches and words made her tick into a, "Yes ma'am." this past week, making her eager to get piped dumb already, even if the thought conflicts with humiliation.

Intrinsic carnality, had her whipped subconsciously. Hot blood always pooled at her cheeks whenever the mere prediction of how this would go down flashed her mind, having to mosey out of her place for a contemplative stroll. Contemplate, contemplate, ooze her eyes into the raw white, winter void, "Fuck." she couldn't help but moan, and throb untouched.

Bands flex across her grasp as she tries pulling you inside, but her body is a bit too.. antsy, taut. "Babe, it's not— mmph, it's not going in. I think we have to—"

"Have to.. what?"

"Fuck!" a rushed moan tears as skin slaps, harsh and bridging on real tears. Of pain, or by pleasure? Ellie can't convey, but her thrust into the spongy bed and toss of head begging to get strung in your fist impart the guess that fuck— you've stretched her deep, bottomed in perfectly.

You let her hole familiarize the girth for a second prior to drawing out and slamming back in, "Uh!" plush globes rippling wherever the skin spilled on top of your hip bones jamming into her. The pressure clamping you in causes a tiny kickback against your folds, chafes your clit underneath. "Fuckin' tight, aren't you?" you're a damn taunt, winching that whisper ardent to her neck. Evilly; wicked as lusty spirits tempt.

"Holy fuck, holy fu— uhh, uh uh, shit!" streams of nasty and broken up groans hike out of her gaped mouth with each pump into her, poor girl having a gouge out with the bedsheets as a means of taking you, "It's so— uhn! So fuckin' bi— I can't, hhn'can't.."

Musing sighs blur into a pitying coo, you reply, "Mhm, you can. Play with 'urself baby."

"Okay, okay—" Ellie unfolds a breathlessness, "—unhh babeee, fuckkk me." and runs it into straught curses as her tatted forearm lodges in the narrow space separating her from drenched cotton, and forks her pussy lips open, rubbing her neglected bud in sloppy strokes. Her teeth bore into her soft, coral lips when her fingers tug just right, so delectably right she could come undone then and there with your added penetration, waning from pain to indeed— pleasure. Diverts her fingers a moment to massage all the dripping slick and lube through her labia 'till it drew pretty webs between, and resumes again, noisily as ever, "Ghnna' cum, guhhh— ohh my goodd." and so nasty; dribbles of thin saliva traversing the swell of her chin.

Goddamn, she's loud. Sure, it's adorable how you pump her into a blathering mess on your cock, but this was unforeseen; surrendering her every moan to get bumped out nonsensically. Because or for you, both possibly, or definitely. "Already? Aww." you pity, muffling your speech to render your voice into thorns of mock disappointment, but in reality, you just quickened your humps. Shown audibly in the squeaks of her bed frame squawking under your combined weights.

Two splotchy flowerbeds of crimson brim at her asscheeks, owing to how intense this had began and trickled into. Hmm, could make it redder if we so wished.

Wish it is.

Quietude holds, and relents in a hard snap; a sting pricks the entirety of your palm crashing down on her butt, watching as the gentle red gains a series of richer rays and hearing the result of said slap punching through her larynx.

"Ughnn!"

Continuing: you slap once, slap twice, times it by thrice, and drive her into a quiver, procuring those wails that have your goosebumps downright rigid as the earth.

"Uh— uh— agh!"

Retiring your hands thriven of ache, they find oasis curving in the shape of her waist. "So good, isn't it Els? Can tell by how loud you're being, my sloppy girl." praised you, silkily sweet upon the lacy edge of slamming your cockhead rough on her walls.

"Yes, yessh. Make me shl— make me.. fuck— make m'your sloppy girl.." past her grace, is a side long since cowered. It's like you molded her brain to abruptly covet the feeling spurting inside her pelvis. From her spine, unto her clit, a ticklish string invokes its fray, flitting her eyes to darker heavens within her skull.

You coast your knees further up until they parked aside her hips, slanting your groin so you could plunge her wider and deeper, ending up with a draw of lubrication landsliding out. Sheer size alone— she's spread her on your strap thickly enough to stimulate certain sweet spots, and god can you tell when you do hit them. Resistance punts the strap base viciously back, dragging a yelp from your lungs. All the squelches coming from her two holes, egged you to an insatiable fucking. Arousal scorched the curves of your cheeks, in love with that sound, infatuated with her pussy, her ass, how ace of a learner she is.

Ellie's calves give upon sensation and hurtle up, rotating her ankle downwards and pushing cinched toes smushed on your bouncing hind— because that infamous pinch now consumes her fattened clit, riding her sleek-glistened fingers doggishly to pursue that heavenly itch. An oncoming recital of whines and growls coats her timbre, "Baby, uhh— babe— m'gonna cum now, dammit.. 'cum all over you— yeah." pleading for you to hasten up in buggy nudges of her heel, butting your ass.

"Oh yeah?" you swirl muse, arching your thumb into the arch her spine slowly welds into, swooning when her head lies atop her ear and a suffused, smiling expression meets your behold.

"Mhm, hmph!" a hitched gulp interrupts her, "You're too fuckin'— mhh, too fuckin good at t-this." inching into a cocky laugh for a blink in time, then swallows it returned to a screw of overwhelm in her facial muscles. She snakes her free paw under yours set on her waist, collecting it and dragging you to grope a handful of her breast, erect nipples flicking stripes due to your humps jostling her.

Weepy eyes bordered by remnants of her past tears cried inflict a bridge between pride and more praise into the pleasure points of your body, and you had no clue before this that she cried. It felt.. gratifying, seeing freckled flesh resemble pebbled waters in spring, ribbons of light warping along her cheeks.

"Those tears for me?" even so, you lower your lips and lap the pellucid stain up, puckering a smooch in its wake.

But you keep ramming a flood out.

The nod she bobs is swift, swifter than her gullet will ever deliver in this state— nor could now, a contort bolting her face inwards subsequent to a mouse-pitched moan leaving the luring lips of your lover bearing pressure into squirting her orgasm all over you, "Oh fuck! Fuck!" she keens and cants her ass on you, jerking swipes over her clit wildly to fufill the ecstasy piping through her pussy. A timid and weak spray noises below— and then came the webs of liquid pearls cascading around her clit, connecting to her fingerprints as she delicately taps the beady bud.

She got thrashy, and clenched your cock in, having bitten off more than she could chew— and it thrilled your cunt to know that; fire catches, and so does the knot twisting your insides. Relish leaves your mouth as you finish base-deep in your girlfriend, imposing her to your skin-bulged grip of her soft breast melting into your palm lines as you cum, "Ohh, yes baby— good girl, good girl.. fuckk." imprinting her mind with how good that felt in your every reaction, forcing that fervor into her existence.

"I fuckin' love you, babe, I love you so fuckin' muh— yes yes yes.." Ellie reciprocates passion received, unto passion given; parting her muck sweat face from the bed and sundering that space in front of yours, suckling your bottom lip into your mouth and sharing the excess teardrops streaked upon her top lips, unlocking to simply just— breathe onto your mouth, straining the last of her orgasm in gradually dwindling moans.

One last peck at her lips charged by a high, you both temper your elation strewn throughout and become aware of the loss for air in your lungs, inhaling the scent of each other done up in exertion. The stillness sustains for a bit, kind of just drunkenly staring 'till one of you broke into a lopsided smirk— no doubt Ellie, and you just had to mingle lips again. So, you slide out carefully with the expected threads of lube following after, and you roam your damp palms away from her ass and chest and branch them on either side of her clammy waist. Her contagious giggles inspire you to mirror the same sounds as you slink behind her and spoon her, smushing the ball of your nose into her hot nape reeking of sweat.

"Was that everything you imagined— or a pain in the ass?" quiped you, quick rolling kisses on her skin, specks of your spit smearing.

Cringe compels her to split lips from you, chuckling, "Really? Right now?" a row of notches digging between her brows, and a shuffle of her legs rub at the filthy wetness layering her groin, "You've got to be kidding me."

"So it was a pain?"

All you get as a response is her shoulder blades swelling as she breathes in, and shies her face away, giving you the hair-in-your-face treatment. "Guess.. after that, 'could go for a couple snacks. I'm hungry."

You squint, "By snacks, do you mean your two-course aftersex meal?" retorting.

"Yeah! That's like, the best thing to do right after." and, her enthusiastic claim isn't all that spoiled. Ellie commonly does it, and she fucking loves it. Hot meals under some wacky or heartfelt discussion, sometimes checking in on the other person, sometimes asking how they felt— but this time, confessions would stay an enigmatic afterthought to ponder about, as really, she fucking loved what you did to her. But that's— forward. Give her a couple days and a couple hours toppled above the usual hour she knocks slumped into somnolence, and she'll admit that. Sappy sweet on the lobe of your ear, indifferent on whether you're wide awake to overhear or not.

"You felt good, uh, by the way. It hurt at first, but, I think my butt's healed from the trauma. Chair isn't uncomfortable to sit in anymore, hmph. Love you, don't ask me about it in the morning. I'll pretend you don't exist. Night, babe."

Something tells me she wants you to do it again.

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soporificsponge · 1 year

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lol emotional quantization

I've been thinking a lot lately about something Ocean Vuong said:

"In Vietnamese, the word for missing someone and remembering them is the same: 'nho.' Sometimes, when you ask me over the phone, 'con nho me khong,' I flinch, thinking you meant, 'do you remember me?' I miss you more than I remember you."

I think this quote has become (in some bizarre and niche way) viral on the internet and whenever something becomes viral on the internet I have an instinct to condescend to it. I assume that there is a certain vapidity required for a thought to become viral - as if perhaps people on the internet aren't willing to engage with things that they encounter in any meaningful way. Perhaps I am just lazily projecting my own relationship with vaguely profound internet musings ("romanticize your life!") onto a form of communication that I haven't put a lot of thought into.

Anyways, for whatever reason this quote has been turning in my mind for a few weeks? months? now. I think it's true that (emotional) uncertainty is well revealed through translation, and I suppose that's a function of a general inability for people to articulate soul (or whatever). In Pachinko, Noa is glad when Akiko doesn't ask him how to say "I love you" in Korean, because he knows he would have revealed his ambivalence in his hesitancy with the translation.

Vuong draws a distinction between missing someone and remembering someone.

When I miss someone, I have a habit of counting my memories of them. In my mind I construct a silo of facts--I have a literal mental image of a red corn silo with stacked layers of scenes and the cracks are stuffed with sound.

I'm thinking of one of my friends tonight, and I miss them more than anything. Is missing someone fear of forgetting them? Whenever I start to miss them, I check obsessively over my imaginary harvest:

Their favorite (and now my favorite) part of the song Valerie is when Amy sings "lawyer er er."

Their senior quote was from Last Night at the Telegraph Club, and it was about weightlessness.

When they're focused on a guitar song, their expression is so placid and so intense at the same time. I've never understood how something can be so earnest and also so soft. They usually play in their glasses, maybe because they usually play later in the day, after they've taken out their contacts.

Is knowing someone the same as loving someone? I used to think so-- that maybe you could prove love and that it was very quantifiable. I know I love you because I know more about you than other people do. I know I care about you because your silo is bigger.

I don't think that's quite it, because if you know why you love someone then it might not be quite real. Yeah, it sounds stupid as fuck, but the inexplicable quality of love is maybe its defining characteristic. You can't articulate soul-which is why it gets lost in translation. My friend that I was talking about is the person who made me realize this today. Love is a Kierkegaardian leap of faith ... The silo is my sad attempt at processing it, like some half-baked grasp at quantization.

My favorite word for love is the ASL word for love. The sign is made by putting your arms like an "x" across your chest, fists clenched. I've wondered for a while, what that means (though I guess I just posited that doing so is a pointless exercise). Does it mean "I want to hold you here, I want you to never leave me" or "I want to protect you" or "I need to be protected from you?"

To me it's: you have hit me here and it hurts. Please stay to staunch the wound.

#writing

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warsofasoiaf · 2 years

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Why do you think Wilson is one of the worst modern presidents? I find his racial beliefs and general personality to be abhorrent but with the creation of the Federal Reserve, World One and the League of Nations I can't really dismiss him as much as I want unless I am mistaken about his involvement in these acts. And is there a reason you didn't list Donald Trump as well not trying to stir the nest but I thought he would be up there as well.

Not including Trump is just a reflexive habit, the same reason why I don't include Obama in rankings of presidents. I always wait for time after evaluation, to see legacy and impact. I have no problem criticizing bone-headed policies (which I did frequently for Trump from 2016-2020, albeit mostly on Twitter), but overall stuff, I usually wait to see the legacy. For example, I have no problem talking about Afghanistan because we've seen the legacy: wasted money and collapse stemming from corruption and a complete lack of even the most basic sense of policy. For 45, we'll have to see what the MAGA and America First movement has left in store - will there be a resurgence, will there be riots, will they quietly whimper home? Will we see a return to the 1970's not only in inflation but in street violence, bombings, etc.? I certainly hope for the latter, but frankly speaking, that's going to rely on a successful management of inflation (and perhaps a successful humiliation of Putin in Ukraine) if we want that to be successful. I don't have high hopes for that - all the MAGA folks have to say is "but 5 dollar gas!" to keep their opposition alive without the need to articulate a successful economic policy on how to handle it.

Wilson mismanaged the Spanish flu epidemic, the League of Nations, to be frank, was a toothless non-entity (much as the UN is a joke today), and other presidential candidates wanted to involve themselves in the First World War much earlier; that's not counting the racism, of course - Wilson actively worked to segregate the federal government as opposed to maintaining a status quo (bad in its own way, but much worse to actively take steps). Wilson is kind of a bizarre bird, in that some of his ideals are quite high-minded but many of his policies in practice were not even close to working in those ideas.

Thanks for the question, Anon.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

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dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram · 1 year

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I feel like you avoid the actual argument about this issue. I find your way of discussing this and responding to logical and reasonable points made by your anons utterly bizarre. You don’t really respond to them, you just put everything into perspective and try to distract from the original problem that was brought up (some people would call it whataboutism but I’m tired of that word tbh). I haven’t really taken anything from your answers besides you not wanting to criticize individual actions as long as their consequences (or prize as you say) aren’t high enough which is just wild to me bc that isn’t even true in this case.

Anon - I am explaining a really widely held left-wing analysis of political boycotts and how change happens (here's a published example of the same analysis). If it seems bizarre to you, to me that suggests that your politics have mainly existed on the internet and you haven't really engaged with trying to build a better world (or even listened to people who have.

You don't seem to have understood my ideas (for example you us the word 'prize' as if I had said it and I haven't used that word at all). I genuinely don't understand what you're saying in the second part of this anon (not just the prize, what consequences, what isn't true).

From my perspective, none of the anons I've seen have articulated an argument. Instead they've listed the horrors that went into producing the world cup and then said that therefore nobody should watch and talk about it. But anyone who has been paying attention to capitalism knows that those horrors aren't new or unique. They are part of pretty much everything we consume. "Horrific things were involved in making this, therefore you should stay away from it" does not work as a way of understanding society or a theory of change.

If I can't explain my ideas in a way that connects to you that would be a shame, because I do think they are important to understanding the world and changing it.

I am going to explain what I actually think about individual actions, which is not about consequences or prizes. I think living under capitalism is really hard. I don't think individual personal purity is the way to create change (there's quite a lot of evidence on that one). I have seen a lot of people be damaged by other people's ideas about what a moral way to navigate the world is and I've categorically rejected it. So long ago (well before I'd even heard of 1D) I developed a world view that policing the way other people live their life was damaging to building a politics based of collective action. That treating every aspect of other people's lives as up to political debate is completely unsustainable and gets in the way of real political change (seriously if you think the personal is political means every individual action you take has political meaning I really recommend reading the original essay of that title to understand that it means the opposite).

Anyway in the face of that knowledge and experience I decided that it was important to limit political judgement to things that are politically important. In terms of people's actions, that means judging people for using the power society gives them over other people and for crossing picket lines.

I'm happy to talk more about this, but I do need people to engage with the questions of political worldview.

#It's like people watched the Good Place #and thought #'that's a perfectly reasonable way of judging people

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algernoninwonderland · 3 years

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Hello, I was wondering how you feel about the "Cat Blanc" ML episode? It thought it strange for reasons I can't really articulate so I was hoping to read your thoughts. I am not that good at analysis but I love your episode reviews. They are very insightful and usual help me understand why I liked/didn't like a certain episode.

A belated review/analysis of Chat Blanc! Here we go!

So, Chat Blanc… It wasn't all that great, now, was it?

The good:

Gabriel's motives are made crystal clear once more, which makes his pushing them to their very limits all the more shocking. The Agreste family vault looks impressive, almost church-like, it's some pretty strong imagery. Not outstandingly original but pretty good stuff nevertheless.

Angry Rose is funny.

Marinette's “Know what I won't take for an answer?” and a smash cut to Nathalie's “No.” That's good comedy.

Ladybug goofing around in the Burrow. It's harmless, she's a kid, these different points in time look interesting.

Chat Blanc's future looks eery and white and blue and it really works, we rarely see post-apocalyptic landscapes like this one, usually it's all muddy and dark and this isn't the case here. I appreciate that. The first wide shot in which the camera spins around Montparnasse tower is great.

Chat Blanc's animation is really creepy and for the most part, it's intentional.

if you’re a sucker for mid 2000s evil sadboys aesthetics, you’ll love this.

Have a montage of Adrienette being sickeningly cute.

I’m watching this in French and let me tell you, Benjamin Bollen might have to work with terrible lines but he’s doing a damn fine job with them

That shot in which the debris and Ladybug break the water’s surface, the bubbles and all… It looks great. I don’t know who is in charge of this but it looked genuinely great.

Chat Noir’s akumatisation and his trying to control his power and not hurt anybody is pretty great, as a concept.

The final scene is a nice parallel to the one earlier in the episode. Repetition with variation is an easy way to make me like things and it works nicely.

The bad:

The Girl Squad bullying Marinette is… Eh.

Stalkerish obsessed Marinette is a joke that overstayed its welcome by that point. Had this been an early season 2 joke, it would have worked. It's a late season 3 joke, it's honestly a bit creepy at this point.

That reveal is fanfic-worthy. It feels really light, and not as big a deal as would have been the case if that episode had any consequences. You can already tell this'll be retconned by the end of the episode.

Bunnyx's burrow. It's unimpressive. It's neither bizarre enough nor flashy enough to really work for me. And that TARDIS joke made me roll my eyes.

If you hate mid 2000s evil sadboys aesthetics, you’ll hate this.

They re-use the same two cars for Ladybug to jump on and it’s pretty obvious. There are smart ways of recycling assets. This isn’t one of them.

Wow, that’s a terrible first kiss, the shot is… Pretty bad.

Gabriel being an asshole and breaking Adrienette up for the stupidest, most selfish reasons feels unfair and that’s the point… But also that scene at the bakery is pretty lame, it doesn’t flow very well, the characters are oddly static and not expressive enough for it to be striking, the lighting doesn’t work with the mood of the scene at all. It feels abrupt, yes, but also cheap.

“It was our love that did this to the world milady.” What a stupid, edgy line.

Bad low-res textures being stretched are clearly visible in quite an awful lot of shots.

Wow. Destroyed Paris is the exact same city as usual, just as empty, only this time they replaced the sky with a “water surface” animation loop. It’s… Underwhelming. You had a great concept and this is what you do with it?

Can you believe they made destruction on a cosmic scale look so bland? How do you mess up that bad?

That confrontation between Hawk Moth and our heroes. This should be season finale material. It’s considerably cheapened.

The ugly:

With the few exceptions listed above, the rendering is not good at all, the lighting is flat and inexpressive which could give everything a kind of otherworldly feel if only used in some sequences (and that would be clever!)… Only it's off, all of the time. Chat Blanc is the only character that looks okay in his timeline.

The animation is off when it shouldn't be, outside of the exception listed earlier. Everything is much too stiff, characters' expressions are off, the timing is off. It's a shame, really. The action sequences are decently boarded but look pretty bad.

“Just because I know her secret identity doesn't mean she has to know about mine.” That's a terrible line. And we're supposed to be rooting for that kid. That's not how healthy relationships work, the episode never addresses that because Adrien is perfect, he's just sad and understandably troubled by these revelations.

Do you remember when Gabriel was shown to care for his son, the complex character drama that could have arisen from that? Well it sure as hell ain’t there.

That Guy boarded that episode. He has a weird, err, fixation on a 14yo girl’s butt and makes sure to include a shot in which it is shoved at the viewers’ faces. Seriously? What is wrong with you? If you so badly want to sexualise characters, it’s not like there aren’t any adults in Miraculous.

Perfectly good ideas are skimmed over in a matter of seconds because this episode is only 22 minutes long. The audience is bombarded with pretty major turning points in a matter of seconds and can barely process any of them.

If the point of your episode is, “it’s better if it doesn’t exist” then you obviously shouldn’t be making this episode… Right? Seems pretty obvious to me, but apparently it isn’t since Chat Blanc exists.

That end card has Hawk Moth look like he’s rolling his eyes and so was I by the end of this episode. The overwhelming feeling of all of this for nothing but the reassertion that these two are “made for each other” which, yawn.

Perfectly good ideas wasted on an episode with mediocre writing and bad animation and rendering.

It's a pretty forgettable episode, funnily enough, I had to rewatch it to be able to write this review.

Hope this helped, Anon! Thanks for the compliment!

#ml #miraculous #ml critical #ml criticism #chat blanc #ml salt #ml writers salt #ml canon salt #ml season 3 #ml season 3 spoilers #i guess

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

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PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 26

first time reader click here

TWs/SUMMARY: Drunken love confessions and other emotional constipation. A threesome between two awesome facial hair bros and reader. I'm absolutely unhappy with how this turned out because a certain sorcerer insisted on being super soft in this one. But at least there's porn...

On the same note, how do we feel about introducing more m/m action? I am a total slut for bisexual boys. I can't help the gay it just comes out...

I danced with Tony briefly as the drinks finally caught up to him. The ex-playboy certainly defended his title: he had impeccable sense of rhythm and we swayed on the floor in tandem, bothering very little with hiding how hot we were for each other. Grinding our hips together, my ass on his dick, Tony was half-hard and I felt it all through the layers of tulle of my skirt and leather of his pants. Now and then his hands wandered, shamelessly squeezing my breasts and my ass, his mouth leaving a blazing hot trail on my neck and my shoulders.

I wasn't far behind. Tony's hair was all kinds of messed up thanks to my own hands and his ass found itself in the very same palms far more than once. "It's a shame Bruce doesn't dance," I pouted drunkenly, receiving an equally intoxicated noise of vague approval. "The three of us are perfect," I stated something that had been boiling over in my head quite a bit.

Tony nodded again. "Yeah," He was far more touchy than usual; his lips landed in my hair right next to my ear. "Bet we can get Merlin, though. I saw him with Natasha earlier," Tony went in to kiss my cheek and missed again, sloppily smooching my temple.

"He has no business being that fuckin' hot," I spit out petulantly without a second thought.

"You're fuckin' right and you should say it," Tony agreed instantly, both of us wearing almost identical, indignant expressions. We paused for a moment, looking deeply into each other's eyes - or, well, we tried to. Drinks and drugs tended to make focusing quite hard. "So we're doing this?" Tony squinted questioningly.

"What about Bruce?" I immediately replied, mind going back to the way my sciency boyfriend was smirking at my and Tony's reaction to Stephen's grand entrance.

"He's okayed any and all our ventures provided we tell him about it," Tony said after a moment of stunned silence.

I chewed on my lip in muted amusement. "What's, he's got, like, a kink?" I tried to articulate my confusion. "And we somehow ended up, I mean all three of us - without talking?" I voiced my concerns. This conversation was really overdue and I'll be damned if that weren't the drugs making me talk. I would probably regret it in the morning...

Tony's eyes softened immediately, a palm raising to trace the side of my face lovingly and gently. "Me and Bruce had a conversation about... You. We both liked you, it's fucking impossible to dislike you, have you seen you? We had decided to let you choose at first, woved for it to not get in the way of our friendship..." He trailed off, looking sheepish and slurring his words slightly. The alcohol had loosened his lips too. I felt only the thump of the bassline, music fading away into the background, my ears hearing only the words leaving Tony's mouth. "I doubt it would have worked out anyways. But you..." He cupped my face. "You gave us everything."

I would have cried if not for the chemicals in my system. My mouth formed a smile on it's own accord and I reached closer to slot it over Tony's shaky grin, bringing us into a slow and sloppy kiss that lasted what felt like years. "I love you, okay? You and Bruce," I spit out the words I desperately wanted to say for so long. Nothing really mattered in the moment, it was just me and Tony and our shared feelings. It wasn't bizarre anymore, loving someone and being loved back.

"Me too, Princess, me too," Tony whispered, hiding his face in the crook of my neck. One of the many advantages of having a boyfriend that wasn't a six-foot tall muscle-bound fricking bastard.

"We have a mission," I reminded him after another song slowly transitioned into a different one. "But I'm also craving a cigarette."

Tony's hand encompassesed mine as he led the way to the patio where the smokers area was located. Bucky's shiny metal arm stood out amongst the partygoers and we made a beeline for him. I bummed a cigarette off him despite Steve's prominent frown and Bucky was even gentleman enough to light it up for me.

We needn't have looked for Strange, it was a few minutes after I'd taken my first drag that he appeared, spouting like a mushroom right after a rainfall. He was frowning. "Caught some douchebag trying to roofie a girl," He explained. Barnes gave him a cigarette without question, trading a dark look with Steve. "Natasha and Loki are taking care of it," Strange supplied, jerking a hand towards the back of the room.

Barnes eyed Tony until the latter gave a short, resigned nod. "Just don't do anything that will land me in the papers," The billionaire sighed before speaking several short commands into a bracelet that served as a direct communication device with Friday. "I raised the security monitors for any suspicious activity too. Put in an earpiece and Friday will notify you if someone else tries to act funny," Tony finished darkly, eyeing Stephen's shaking hands.

I choose to stay silent throughout the interaction, letting the pissed off men to blow off some steam before approaching them. Barnes' cigs migrated into my hands and I watched the tense, retreating backs of the super-soldiers until only the three of us were left in a comfortable silence. I waited until the man was done with his cancer stick and promptly grabbed his hands, gently but firmly stroking the scarred skin.

Tony leaned on the railing, watching us with open interest.

Strange cocked a curious eyebrow but didn't retract his hands, releasing a quiet sigh when my movements successfully calmed the tremors. "Contrary to popular belief, I am capable of being... Nice," He spoke after a moment.

"I know," I replied dryly. "But being nice all the time is boring."

"A day with you is never boring," Tony winked at us teasingly, noticing me step further into the sorcerer's personal space. His eyes were still glowing and whatever spell he had put on himself was still working, attracting me to him like a magnet.

Stephen looked to the side, at Tony, then at me, before gently pulling out a single hand and making an elaborate gesture that made his skin briefly shimmer. The unnatural pull disappeared - me and Tony both exhaled heavily - yet the appreciation for Stephen's lithe, agile form remained. He was a beautifully made man.

Tony made his own move, a signature of his, placing a steady palm on the taller man's back and looking up at Stephen through his eyelashes. The fresh air had sobered both of us up by quite a bit and our coordination returned.

Stephen smirked slightly, running his eyes over the crowd of partygoers gathered around us. Nobody was paying any particular attention to the three of us yet all of us were acutely aware how much damage could be done by a stray snapshot, an accidental Snapchat feature, or something drunkenly posted on public social media by an absolute stranger. Tony and Strange threw each other a secretive, heated glance while I pressed myself closer to Tony, still caressing one of Stephen's hands. To the public, it was nothing more than a friendly gesture to help out a close friend out of his discomfort.

"Your place? I'm afraid mine's a mess," Stephen asked, uncharacteristically dorky and overused pick-up line.

"Lead the way," Tony smirked, both of us sharing a muted giggle at the doctor's antics. In response, Stephen extracted his other hand from my grasp and waved them about in the familiar gesture of creating a portal. On the other side of the circle was the familiar scenery of Tony's penthouse bedroom, sheets, as always, unmade and my fluffy socks hanging half-way off the comforter.

I pulled both men into the circle by their forearms, making quick in hopes everybody around us was too drunk to take note of the surroundings on the other side of the portal. An obscenely large bed in plain view didn't leave much space for speculation.

I sat down on it, taking my time to observe the curious interaction between two men in front of me. The sexual tension between them was undeniable, it crackled in the space between their bodies, lit an unholy fire in their eyes. If I was completely honest with myself - Stephen was hot, but Stephen and Tony together, it was out of this world and I would have been very content to just hang back and watch the two of them going at it.

Untying and toeing off my shoes had me distracted for a brief moment - evidently enough for Stephen to lose his pretense and roughly grab Tony by his face, smashing their lips together gracelessly. Tony's hands grasped the expensive fabric of Stephen's blazer with a force that was equal to the one gathering in the low of my belly. The dress I wore was now carefully thrown over a nearby lounge chair, leaving me in a set of golden bra and tiny panties. It was a gift from Tony: he loved when I wore his colors.

My almost bare body got their attention: panting, they broke apart to stare at me, their gazes hungry enough to make me shiver and feel like prey. Tony's arms sandwiched me between them, letting Stephen's lips to taste mine for the first time. The sorcerer did not hesitate, he plunged his tongue into my mouth and immediately seized command of the kiss. He kissed like he fought, sharply, with precision and demand.

I popped the buttons on his shirt as he explored my mouth, finding the skin of his chest taut and textured with a multitude of smaller, thinner scars. He was built like a runner, or a swimmer, all lean muscle and sculpted hipbones and neatly stacked ribs. His shirt suffered a haste demise.

The thuds and jingles accompanied by quiet cursing behind my back alerted me to Tony's struggle with his intricately made costume. "Can you boom-boom-whoosh it away?" I asked Stephen.

He pulled away with an amused smirk, waving his glowing hands about. "Do what now?"

"It's what the internet calls your voodoo shit, don't quote me," Tony snarked, suddenly finding himself wearing only his boxers. I was promptly pulled to his chest, in what I knew was a defensive gesture - he hated showing off the scarred area around his arc reactor. He used to hide it from me, too.

Stephen hummed, once again waving his hands about in a surprisingly complicated set of motions. I was mesmerised by his hands - even despite the injuries, they remained as skilled and perplexing. Once Stephen was left in his underwear, I wasted no time in detaching from Tony and steering the sorcerer to fall freely into the large bed.

"You need to stop being so smug," I stated, climbing on top of Stephen and claiming his lips for myself. "It's bound to get you in trouble."

"Is that so?" And still, the man looked as satisfied as the cat who ate the canary. That just won't do.

"Tones, help me out, I'm trying to see smtn'," I asked, feeling the man settle in next to me and trace a gentle hand down my side, over my breast and down to the flat of Stephen's belly. The man under me shivered, face slowly heating up.

"Yes, dear?" My engineer supplied helpfully.

"Off," With a sudden change of pace, I snapped the elastic of Stephen's boxers, causing the man to jump and the very sizeable bulge in them twitch. Tony obediently pulled down the offending piece of clothing, causing Stephen to groan as the cool air hit the heated flesh of his most sensitive spots.

I settled between his thighs, spitting in my palm and giving his long cock a few solid strokes, enjoying the way his hips seemed to involuntarily follow the movement of my slick palm.

"I'd brace myself if I were you," Tony remarked teasingly, bending down to kiss the sorcerer again. Between my and Tony's mouths, Steph really didn't stand a chance.

The obscenely long moan that left his mouth was swallowed by Tony as my lips and tongue made to wrap around the very tip of Stephen's cock. I tasted the musk and the salt of him as I made down his long cock, taking extra time to warm up my throat for the incoming intrusion. And when I finally swallowed him, to the hilt, I swear I felt the way his body shook.

There was a lot more noise coming from the two men - I briefly lifted my eyes to see Stephen sucking a hickey onto the side of Tony's neck with a vigour, Tony's hand holding onto Stephen's hair as the taller man palmed the shorter man's bulge through his boxers.

I was pretty sure my juices were flowing down my thighs. The two men were a Sight; the drugs and booze in my system had me reaching new levels of arousal, levels I previously didn't even know existed. A needy noise left my lips, muffled by the delicious cock stretching them and I knew it was time to grant myself the thing I had been craving for so long.

Swiftly, I pulled off Stephen's cock and sat down into his lap, grinding my panty-covered mound atop his erection that laid on his belly, twitching and leaking. "You want a condom? We're clean and I'm on birth control," I offered.

"I'm clean, feel free to..." Stephen detached his mouth from Tony just long enough to mutter consent, immediately going back to taste the engineer's skin and mark it with his lips and teeth. By the time I she'd my underwear and slid down on his sizeable cock, I had noticed the necklace of blues and reds decorating Tony's neck and clavicles.

"Fuck, yessss..." I hissed, the emptiness within me finally fed. Experimentally raising my hips up and down a few times, I quickly found a rhythm that made for sinful noises to fall from both of our lips. Tony was whining, too, in impatience. "Tony, wanna try something?"

That piqued his interest. He looked at me, eyes unfocused and blown with lust. "Hm?" As Steph continued satiating his hunger for Tony's skin.

I carefully considered it before speaking. "Get behind me," I ordered breathily, slowing my pace just enough to keep me tethering on the brink of release.

"We need lube," He mumbled immediately, catching my drift - well, not quite.

"Nope, we don't. I can take both of you," I stated, bending over and spreading my legs a little wider. With Tony and Bruce, it would have been impossible considering the fact that Bruce's cock was as thick as a fuckin' coke can, but with Stephen being a little more reasonably sized... I must admit, I was curious. It certainly looked interesting enough in porn. Plus, it would allow the two men to feel each other-

"Fuckin' hell," Stephen groaned, one hand gripping my hip to steady himself. So that was a definite yes. "Princess, you're killing me here."

Tony took all of a whole second to get in position and spit in his hand, adding extra lubrication just in case. Thoughtful Tony. He needn't have worried, however - every inch from my thighs to Steph's balls was covered in my juices. To say that I was turned on would have been a massive fuckin' understatement.

"Fu-uck, you're so good, baby," Tony groaned. I felt the tip of his cock breach and stretch my entrance, finding the sting not painful but rather pleasurable. Inch by inch, I felt myself open up. The sensations were incredibly powerful, my release approaching even despite the steady slow movements that Tony was making.

"Harder," I begged, feeling my release approach with the force of a freight train. Both men complied, falling into a careful but powerful rhythm, shaking me to the core with each precise thrust. It didn't take long for me to clench and spasm around the cocks, making both men pick up the pace, their movements turning sloppy. My own imagination supplied the extra mile, figuring their cocks rubbing against each other inside my sloppy wet hole made it feel twice as intense.

Tony wrapped his forearm around my throat, putting a healthy arch to my back - I didn't know whose cock was hitting just the right spot and I didn't care. My eyes met Stephen's - he was watching me come undone, worrying his lip between his teeth, his own eyes darting between my and Tony's face. In a split second decision, I took hold of one of his hands and popped the index and middle fingers into my mouth, softly sucking on them, covering the digits in my little gasps and moans

Stephen's back arched and Tony groaned, stuttering his hips in response. As soon as the little crease between the sorcerer's eyebrows made a humble appearance, he was coming. "Fuck!" He yelped hoarsely, painting my insides and Tony's cock white. The engineer dropped his head onto my shoulders, panting, getting a few stuttered thrusts and he was coming, too, jerking almost violently behind me.

Him shoving his cock as deeply as possible within me triggered another wave of bliss for me. I followed the two men, gasping around the fingers in my mouth and behind the unyielding strength of Tony's arm. I felt wrung out, like a paper bag scrunched up and used...

In the best way. It was incredibly hot. The realisation that I had been marked by two glorious men from the inside out made me shiver and the men in question twitch in response to the involuntary flutter my pussy had done from my thoughts.

"Woah," Tony mumbled, gently pulling out of my sore and sloppy hole.

"Yeah," Stephen was finally speechless and tranquil. A picture of serendipity, really, with his arm thrown comfortably over his head and a sated little smirk on his face.

I couldn't resist pecking him on the lips as I slid off his body to nest myself between him and Tony who still seemed to be catching his breath. "You should be like this more often," I stated, feeling myself slip into drowsiness.

"Gimme a reason," Stephen mumbled, barely a trace of his usual sarcasm.

"Oh we will," Tony finished darkly, throwing a sheet over the three of us and settling a comfortable arm across my waist, palm flat on Stephen's tummy. Last thing I heard before I fell into a deep sleep was Stephen's blunt nails scratching softly along Tony's scalp.

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