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a03heralding · 1 year ago

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Bg3 blunt rotation headcanons:

Karlach: does not stop fucking laughing. She’s def wheezing at a joke she overheard in a lesbian bar three and a half years ago while in the middle of a sentence. The type who starts a story and ends up laughing so hard she can’t finish it.

Halsin: mellow as hell, is always encouraging the group to go for a nice walk somewhere while stoned to shit. Will he pass out or will he be caressing the flowers in his backyard? No one knows.

Shadowheart: Sis is asleep after a joint or a few hits from the bong. Is likely sleeping on Lae’zel’s shoulder with a blanket around her. We love her for that tho bc she looks so cute.

Jaheira: she is forreal trying to tell you that we’re all living in someone’s sims save or how aliens made the pyramids. Also always pulls up to the session at the most random times.

Lae’zel: when she does smoke she usually ends up tripping the fuck out and is staring at the wall like a dog that’s accidentally eaten an edible. Doesn’t partake anymore but will come and chill and act as Shart’s personal resting post.

Astarion: the one who is chatting the most shit, probably has the joint in a cigarette holder like curella de’vil. The main source of Karlach’s laughter. Is also constantly asking for Nicki Minaj songs to be added to the Spotify queue.

Wyll: straight up vibes, is probably hogging the snacks to himself tho but he’s busting jokes and laughing with Karlach about stupid shit

Gale: the person in charge of the playlist and the only one who can actually roll. He is very particular about the music bc he believes it sets the mood for the high. Is constantly denying Astarion’s request to play Chun li but puts on random shit like khazakstani jazz

Minthara: enabling Astarion’s shit talking and spilling the piping hot tea. The least faded out of all of them (except lae). Has a screenshot folder that she shows astarion so they can be shady.

Aylin: she’s productive when she’s stoned, is likely cooking something or has gone for a jog/ doing a task while wearing her socks/ Birkenstock combo

Isobel: the mom friend who is making sure everyone is drinking water and is getting fresh air while fried.

Withers: the za dealer. You have to go to his house and he only sells a min of 6gs at a time. Usually chilling and trying to hide his weed plants from the cops bc his neighbours are snitches ngl

Minsc and boo (sry I be forgetting): Brings his hamster to the function bc he doesn't want him to be lonely and believes that his best bud deserves a toke as well. Boo is a literal fucking menace and bites those who object to giving him any. There is literally always an argument bc of this but Minsc is ready to fight for his child.

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onlinedolly · 1 month ago

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MY SISTER VI

au where you’re vis pretty little sister and she’s a fighter in the undercity to make ends meet >/<

cw: incest, shower sex, reader getting fingered and eaten out, spitting, overstim, errreerm i think that’s it

an: just like always i write dark/dead dove content. please be aware of my cw and don’t read if it makes you uncomfy. and MDNI! also not proof read (sry not sry)

you’d been here plenty of times before, patching vi up in the small apartment you two shared. she winched as you placed the rag against her skin and you simply pressed harder against her, angry she was even coming home this late with these kind of bruises.

“easy, kid, god.” vi winches out, as she reaches down and grabs your wrist between her bigger calloused hand.

“‘m not a kid,” you spoke defensively, cleaning around an area that had fresh blood on it, “and it wouldn’t hurt so much if you didn’t get yourself in these situations.” you spoke bluntly at her, wrapping the bandage around the place on her stomach.

“i know i know,” she brushes off your comments, patting your head as you finish up, “but if i don’t fight how do we eat hm, baby sister?” she got you there. but still, there had to be an easier way to make money. vi didn’t like you working, after losing your parents and your sister vi didn’t like you doing much of anything, not when you’re all she had left.

after she was all bandaged she pulled her shirt down, leaning against the front of the couch on the floor spread out. she holds her arms open our wide for you, waiting expectantly.

“c’mere baby,” she spoke, gesturing for you, “missed you so much tonight.”

you smile softly, never able to stay mad at vi for too long, before you crawl into her arms. you were in a shirt of hers, long and oversized on you as you cuddled up against her frame. she smelled like sweat and flowers as you breathed her in.

“you stink,” you tease out, causing her to gasp and push you, laughing.

“yeah?” she laughed softly, nosing into your neck, “maybe you should help me get cleaned up, hm?” she whispered, placing a small kiss to your collar bone.

vi and your relationship would be described as anything but normal, you’d always been close, losing the people you cared about at a young age, leaving vi to the parenting. and parenting she did; no friends she didn’t approve of, no social media, no going into the undercity without her she was a helicopter parent if you’d ever seen one.

but that’s not what made your relationship peculiar, no. when you’d turned eighteen that’s when she started getting extremely affectionate. kisses on your neck, your head, your lips. at first it seemed innocent enough in your incredibly sheltered eyes, until she began touching. small touches at first, on your thigh, on your hip, until she worked up the courage to stick her hand under your shirt. telling you she just wanted to show you how much she loved you, really, that’s all.

it didn’t feel a lot like love when she was pinching your nipples, or coaxing an orgasm out of you with her tongue. it felt like something else entirely, something that made your stomach churn and your thighs rub together as she currently had been working kisses from behind your ear down to your collarbone.

“whadda say, hm?” she whispers, running a hand up under your shirt, “help me freshen up?”

who were you to refuse as you nod your head eagerly. before you know it she’s dragging you into the bathroom, taking her top off of you. your breasts pop out, puffy nipples hard as you feel embarrassed under her intense gaze.

“don’t be embarrassed, cupcake.” she speaks out sweetly, bringing a hand to brush it over your hard nipple, “ain’t nothing i haven’t seen before, yeah?”

you nod, face flushed as you watch her undress. she was all muscle and beaten up as she gets naked in front of you and you lean in to run your fingers down the outline of her back tattoo.

“askin’ for trouble kid,” she laughs out turning the water on. you pull your sticky panties down as she hops in, holding a hand out of you to step in.

once in the shower together you take her in fully, her body is bigger then yours, all muscle and intimidating and it made you shiver at the thought. the hot water hits your back and you grab the shampoo leaning up and pressing your breasts against her own as rub the shampoo in her hair.

showers with vi, for you two, weren’t anything out of the ordinary. vi used the excuse of lowering the water bill at first, but that was before she’d started sticking her fingers inside of you. you rinse the shampoo out of her hair, moving on to the conditioner, and if looks could kill vi would have you six feet under. she looked at you with a lust filled look, hunger filling her features as you go to rinse the conditioner out.

before you could move on to washing her body she had you pinned against the shower wall, hand on your hip as she licked her lips.

“look so pretty f’me.” she slurs out, leaning in to press more kisses to your neck. you shudder and flush as you wrap your arms around you older sister, feeling her muscles and scars under soft hands.

her hands move to your hips, gripping them hard as you whine under her touch.

“vi please,” you whine out at her, digging you manicured nails into her back.

eventually, she moves to where you need her the most, your hot and wet under touch. with a free hand vi leans over and turns the water off before running a single finger up your slit making you jump in anticipation.

“be good girl and wait, kay, cupcake?” she hoarsely asks and you can tell she’s holding back just as much as she’s asking you too.

slowly she pries your thighs apart with her hand, testing the waters by pressing her thumb against your clit making you cry out.

“that’s what i like to hear baby, do it again f’me.” she presses against your clit again, and you meet her with the same reaction you did before, mewling under her touch as she begins a slow pace circling around your bud.

“oh, vi,” you moan out, nails digging into her back. she moans appreciatively, pressing harder into your bundle of nerves as her free hand comes up to pinch one of your nipples meanly. “ouch, vi, ow,” you whine out wriggling underneath her.

“shhh, it can’t hurt that bad,” she mocks, slinking her fingers from your clit to tease your tight hole. when she inserts a finger you almost slip from the sensation you feel, jumping against her as she sinks herself inside. one finger at first, enough to work you up good, leave you a moaning mess as you bite into her neck so you don’t alert the neighbors.

she groans, slotting another finger next to her first, stretching you out deliciously as she begins a steady pace of in and out. you want to scream out, and you almost do, if it weren’t for the way vi has her free hand pushing your head into her neck muffling you. she picks the pace up as she feels you tighten around her fingers, fucking you rough and fast. you’re a panting mess at this point, biting and kissing at her neck to keep the neighbors from hearing how your big sister was fucking you.

you cum hard, twitching as she holds you up, still fucking her fingers into your tight cunt. you dig your fingers into her hair pulling, which she groans appreciatively over, pushing her lips into yours as you come undone around her.

once your orgasm dies down you hold onto her body and shiver, “thank you vi,” you whisper so sweetly and she just chuckles running her hands through your hair.

“don’t go thanking me yet baby, we ain’t even close to done.” vi laughs out, and before you know it she’s sinking to her knees.

“no vi, i can’t take anymore,” you whine, and in a feebly unsuccessful attempt you try to pull her up. but to no avail she sits on her knees and brings her face to your cunt, blowing on it and relishing in the way you shake.

“you can and you will.” she demands, leaning forward and licking a stripe from your clit to your pretty hole. you whine, the overstimulation borderline painful as you grab her hair and try to yank her away.

but the she begins, like a man starved, lapping at your cunt and circling your clit with her wet tongue. “vi i said i c-cant,” you sob out, you feel like your legs are going to give in and you’re going to collapse ontop of her (not that she’d let you). she shushes you before going back to work, licking at your pussy feverishly as she works her way down to your hole.

she kitten licks around your hole teasingly before shoving her tongue all the way in, making you mewl underneath her touch. she fucks your with her tongue, pushing it in and out, before working her way back up to your clit, kissing it a couple times before licking it over and over again.

you feel red hot under her and you can feel another orgasm working its way into your body. you’re body was exhausted from the last time you orgasmed and you attempt to push her away again, pulling on her hair as you try to rip her from your drooling cunt. “vi stop, please, i’m gunna— im gunna—“ and you do. you cum harder then you have in a while and it’s almost painful the way it sends your body convulsing. but she doesn’t let up, licking you through you orgasm until she was surely satisfied.

once you’ve finished orgasming she places a small kiss against your clit making you twitch and works her way up, kissing along the curve of your body until she makes it to your lips. vi, with two fingers, taps at your jaw and you open wide, obediently as a sting of spit leaves her mouth and goes into yours.

you can taste yourself. it’s sour and pungent on you’re tongue as you force yourself to swallow. she leans in, wrapping her big hand around your face before smiling that same smug smile you’ve seen a million times before.

“are you going to wash my body, or what, tiny thing?” she muses, handing you the loofa like she wasn’t just between your legs.

you and your sister had a peculiar relationship, not that either of you minded, but it was yours. and you loved her.

#vi arcane #vi x reader #tw.incest #vi smut #ೃ mars writes !#arcane #dead dove do not eat #tw.dark content #i love big sister vi omg

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joelhoney · 1 year ago

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do u take requests? if u do, could i have an outbreak au where reader rides joel in his truck? thank u! i LOVED #1 girl btw

open road

wanted to practice my writing skills again so here! :)

warnings: 18+ !!!! smut, pwp, implied age gap, feminine reader, daddy kink sry, pet names galore

“One of the guys called you scary.”

The sky is dull, something bland and colorless in-between blue and grey—something that’s become a norm. A clear, cloudless sky comes once every few months if a trickle of luck happens to dwell upon the area, but even for a pair that travels as much as you and Joel do, the memories of that kind of weather have become few and far between. Joel is grown, though, and he’s wise, and he knows there isn’t any good that comes out of complaining over something as trivial as this.

Anyway, he’s got a whole little ball of sunshine beside him, feet propped up on the dashboard clumsily.

“Hm. What’d you say?” He grunts back, trying to hide how the comment has begun to make him think. He’s not new to the entire scary bit, but every time the comment arises he finds himself wanting to know your thoughts, if you agree, if you know he doesn’t mind the reputation as long as you find him the opposite.

“I said no, you’re just old.”

You’re in your socks because you hate the weight of the boots you wear, and you’re wearing one of his old shirts, from years and years ago, thin with wear and the collar cut off so it hangs across your collarbones. It’s your favorite, this ratted brown color with a band on it that performed when you weren’t even born yet, you think. Joel likes this one, too, he won’t tell you just how much; he just hopes you don’t pick up on the fact that he fucks you all the more harder whenever you wear this around him.

“I’m not old, sugar.”

“You are old. Older than me and the guy who said you were scary.” A lithe hand comes twisting at the grey hairs on his temple. He tuts and you pull back, giggling out an apology. “When’re we getting there?”

“Slow down. The open road is a blessin’, don’t you think, sweetheart?” To Joel, everything is a blessing in the height of such an uncertain time—a blessin’, in his vernacular, his drawled-out twang. It’s his turn, now, to reach across the console and wrap a hand around your thigh. It tickles, and you tense through the material of your jeans. Sometimes you wonder if you can wear your dresses on tasks like these, ones not so high in urgency, but with a destination nevertheless. You want a clicker gnawin’ off your leg, be my guest, he said once, and that was that.

“I guess,” you muster half-heartedly, fingers skating along the expanse of Joel’s hand. Two of your fingers align with one of his own. Outside the scenery is mostly grey, barely green, lifeless, but interesting anyway, the ruins and the rot, blatant reminders of what you’re all living in the thick of.

You swallow and wrap a hand around his wrist. “Do we need to be there now?”

He huffs out this laugh between exasperation, and quickly he presses two fingers to the crotch of your bottoms. “So soon?” He’d just eaten you out before you left less than two hours ago, the hem of your shirt stuffed into your mouth so nobody would hear. You buck up into his hand, which has now left, and whine lowly in your throat.

“That wasn’t fair,” you bemoan, chasing his hand. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

“I’m jus’ try’na enjoy the road, dove. Back then, this’d be drownin’ in traffic. People beatin’ the five-thirty rush. Now it’s jus’ you and me.” He hums some song, this soully little thing, one he likes to sing on the road when it’s just you in the car. If anyone else tags along, he’s silent.

“Jo-el,” you whine. “No fair. You got me all wet.”

He sucks air in through his teeth, pats you lightly on the smooth surface of your cheek without even having to spare you a glance. “Be patient with me, sweetheart. We need to get there in time.” There’s an edge to his voice, hardened a bit; he’s not reminding this time, he’s warning. You pout and peek out the half-cracked window. Open road and the dim horizon, no sign of the building you’re supposed to stop at.

“Fine.” Your voice comes out like a sneer.

He clicks his tongue. “I said patient.”

“I am being—” you huff, crossing your arms and lowering your feet noisily. “It’s not fair that you touched me and then won’t even let me—let yourself—whatever.” You shuffle, bumbling irritatedly by yourself for a minute.

If you ask Joel, some of his best moments come from getting you to behave.

Because you are virtually impossible to wrangle into some semblance of obedience. It used to be next to impossible to even get you to shut up, but over time it got easier—thumb on the pad of your tongue, knee shoved in-between your legs, hand wrung into your hair. Just like that, and you’re his pliant little baby again. If you ask Joel now, he’d sigh contentedly, say how proud he’s become that you’re no longer the bratty minx you once were.

But that would be a lie, he figures, once he hears the exaggeratedly breathy moans from his right.

He doesn’t need to look to know what you’ve wrapped yourself up into, your hand shoved into your unzipped jeans, rubbing slow circles along your pussy. It probably doesn’t even feel as good as it sounds, even if you make noises with everything he does to you. Feels so good, Daddy, you whisper into the air, and he trails a hand down to squeeze himself through his jeans.

“How good, baby?” He grunts, eyes flitting over to you. You, in that goddamn t-shirt and everything, looking delicious enough to eat. He’d told you once never to wear shit like skirts and dresses, but God the amount of times he hoped you’d wear them anyway, so he could bounce you up and down on his dick and have you barely undressed. He swears he has dreams of his favorite pink number, the one that barely even touches the middle of your thighs, tied at the back with a pretty ribbon. He loves tugging on that ribbon, watching the material loosen around you so he can grope you up and make you both feel nasty, listen to your jagged moans of daddy, don’t rip the dress while he’s toying with your clit.

“Not enough,” you say breathily. “S’your fault.”

“Mine?” He echoes with a grunt. “You’re the one whorin’ herself out t’me for a lick of my attention, baby girl.”

“Please, I’m—just a minute,” you heave out, voice wet and desperate. He wonders what’s gotten you this antsy, this restless, this needy for a taste of him. The thought gets him harder than ever, and before he even thinks to palm himself, your tiny hand is already there, and he’s shuddering from it. You know him so well, know exactly what to hold, exactly what to touch to get him to give in.

“Jeans,” he orders, eyes zeroing in on a blank patch of grass to swerve into.

Your jeans are loose already, and you barely have to shimmy before they hit the floor of the truck, tiptoeing your sock-clad feet out while he parks and wrenches his seat to a semi-lying position, dragging you over to him to sit on his lap, your thighs quivering on either side of his jeans.

You adjust yourself so the thick of his cock is pressed directly to your panties, and grind forward. He stops you, his hand coming down to slap against your half-bare ass. “I just wan’ed to get to the damn meeting on time, get the shit we needed, and go the fuck back to the zone.” Another spank. “Do you have to be such a goddamn brat, sweetheart?”

“I just—I needed you,” you half-lie, the lace of your pretty underwear delicious friction with what little movement you’re allowed. “Even wore the pair you like, Daddy.”

“Yeaaah, you did.” He sucks air in through his teeth, watching your cunt swallow the thin material of his favorite pair of yours. Pink and lacy, looted from a mall two cities away. “You know Daddy can never resist her, can you?” He thumbs roughly at your pussy, coercing the panties through your folds. “You know he’s dyin’ to fuck ‘er real bad, too.”

“Need it, I need it,” you babble, your movement causing the shirt to droop off. He gropes at your barely-covered chest, a low growl thrumming out of him.

“What’s got my bunny all revved up, huh? Your energy beats the truck’s damn engine.” He lifts you up so he can let you drop onto his cock, bullying his tip into you until tears sprout at your eyes from the size of him. He’s always going to be huge, and it’s always going to be a whole thing, having to bottom out inside.

It helps that you’re wet, sopping and dripping onto his cock, his balls, his spread thighs, your own inner thighs—your slick is everywhere and it’s obscene. Every movement either of you make causes a squelching sound to resound across the stale space of the truck. “Fuuuck,” he grunts, watching your cunt swallow him whole. “I love this pussy, you know that, honey? Could lick her up for days, mark it as mine. Bully her when you’ve been bad.”

“I haven’t been bad,” you protest highly, eyebrows knitted and pink lips bitten. “You really are scary.”

“But you like it, don’t you?” He places two decisive hands on your hips and thrusts upward, so hard your head almost hits the roof of the truck. “Like it when Daddy’s a l’il bit scary, sugar? Like it when he spanks you, plays around with you a tiny bit? Hmm?”

Ah, ah, ah, uh, mmmf are all the sounds your mouth can produce, drunk on his huge cock, fat and splitting you in half. Ye yea yeah yeah please yes Daddy love it, you moan, each whimper punctuated by the tip of his dick kissing your cervix. You do love it when he’s bossy, a bit scary. He knows so. He knows how wet you get when he’s got your chin in his hand, cheeks smushed together. How much you drip onto the sheets when you’re bent over, spread open, and he’s deciding which hole to fuck.

“Makin’ a beautiful mess on my dick, baby, come on, give it t’me. Give Daddy your cum, I’ll give you mine back, won’ I, princess?” His gruff voice is demanding and rambling and all at once, you’re beginning to convulse around him.

“Close,” you whimper, “gonna cum, Daddy—”

“Yeah, come on, that’s a good bunny,” he grunts as you begin to gush slick around him. “Daddy’s gonna give you the milk you’ve been wantin’.”

#joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller tlou #the last of us #tlou x reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel x reader #pedro pascal x reader #tlou smut

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1ceb3rg · 2 months ago

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Titan shifters appearances in AOT is a reflection of who they are.

I feel like a common misconception about the titan forms of titan shifters in aot is just that its them but.. titan. I also see a lot of theories on the appearances of the shifters titans and a lot of curiosity. SO I AM HEREE TO GIVE MY PERSONAL OPINION !!! I personally view the shifters appearances as a reflection of not just their humanly appearances but also who they truly are deep down.

I feel the most often misconception i see is about Armin’s colossal titan. Its due to the fact that there is a LOT of questions on why his titan lacks ears, compared to the other 8 shifters titans. The MOST common response i hear to this question is “Armin’s colossal lacks ears due to him not wanting to hear the screams of his many victims!”. I absolutely hate this idea not because its sorta silly but i think it undermines his character. If you pay close attention, you’ll realize that Armin’s titan form bears a huge resemblance to a skeleton, unlike Bertholdt’s colossal titan. The human skeletal structure does NOT have ears. My take is because Armin’s whole relationship with his titan is very much related to the whole concept of death. The whole reason why Armin even inherited the colossal titan in the first place was VERY MUCH related to the decision between either saving him or Erwin from death, as well as Armin bearing the guilt of taking Bertholdt’s life. We all know that the responsibility of bearing the colossal titan always haunted over Armin for both of the dooms of Erwin and Bertholdt. I think this truly shows that Armin surely had a difficult relationship with his titan.

Another proof of this idea is the Beast titan. Its a well known fact that the beast titan takes after the form of whatever animal the current shifter of it has a special bond to. For Zeke, it was a monkey. This is because in a scene in the anime, he is seen playing and attached to a monkey doll during his tumultuous childhood, indicating that the monkey doll was a huge.. maybe even ONLY comfort that young Zeke had growing up under the pressure of Grisha and Dina. As for Mr Xavier, the guy who guided Zeke, we are told that he faked his marleyan identity and when found out by his marleyan wife, she took their son and committed suicide together in their house. In the scene where it shows the two lifeless, a sheep doll can be seen in the back of presumably the son’s nursery. And we all come to know.. that Xavier’s beast titan form was a sheep before he was eaten by Zeke. I think this shows that the deaths of Xavier’s wife and child took a huge toll on him even though he lied to both of them about who he was.

anywaysss that was just an idea i had pent up and sry for the yap but i hope smbdy else can share their opinions on this 😞

#aot #armin #attack on titan #snk #zeke jeager #armin arlert #shingeki no kyojin #zeke yeager

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