#unethicallybrilliant

[v--iper]

unethicallybrilliant replied to your post: “Wow, Angela’s hands are so soft.”

“A stark contrast to the dry sandpaper of yours.”

“Maybe she likes it rough.”

[worldsbestdoc]

@unethicallybrilliant | plotted starter

Coffee was not what motivated Angela to return to this little shop day after day, though it was a perk. On the contrary, she needed to scope out the area. She needed to know the shop inside and out, the side streets surrounding it, the alleys, every variable before she made first contact. With this being a deviation from her usual practice she couldn’t let a single detail slip through her fingers. It would be more public, more risky--but given the nature of the target she thought she could stomach the danger.

After copious preparation Angela at last was ready to tailor her visit to match Dr. O’Deorain’s schedule. This didn’t mean she’d make contact today, she reminded herself as she stood in line to order. Continued patience would serve her well. Nervous excitement buzzed underneath her skin nonetheless; and when she stepped away to find a table, her order for a latte with an extra espresso shot placed, she smoothly glanced over the tall, lean red-haired woman at the back of the line. There she was.

Blue eyes darted back as though captivated and her pace faltered. Controlled, measured--one breath, no more--before flitting down in a show of demure self-consciousness. Without looking back to see if she’d been noticed she selected a table near the window, her back to the counter. This wasn’t about approaching her target; it was about drawing her in. The soft cream fabric of her sweater draped off of one shoulder in a quietly suggestive fashion, its hem drawing the eye to crossed legs kept modest by chocolate-toned tights. Contact may not happen today, but Angela’s heart raced to think it might.

And if it didn’t? She could always use a good cup of coffee.

[amesyeuxrien]

There's a small gift left in the Widow's quarters, wrapped in a glittering black paper and a rich blue ribbon and bow. Inside is a very lavish, very expensive, diamond studded necklace. There is also a note inside that says 'Merry Christmas to my very favourite pet. Wear your new collar with pride. With love, O'Deorain.'

She doesn’t notice the package at first. Her heart jumps into her throat and she almost forbids herself from touching it once she does see it, shrouded in the clammy dark of her bedroom. Her external demeanor remains mostly unchanged; she manages not to immediately throw it out. What kind of joke was this? Surely someone must have made a mistake. 

Guilt pangs through her heart, as she lifts the bow from its setting. What a beautiful wrapping -- she’d hate to destroy such a thing. The Widowmaker unwraps her gift, making sure to not tear the paper or the bow, setting them both aside for safekeeping. 

She decides to read the note inside first, and she knows from that effortless, flowy handwriting that this gift is from her doctor. 

The voice she reads in is more repulsive than the gift itself. She imagines her doctor as smooth; disinterested. The Widow lifts the necklace from its secure holding and holds it up to the moonlight filling in through the slats that lined her window. A smile plays at her lips, mind made up.

A shame that the necklace was so pretty. It’ll surely become tarnished and disgusting from the buildup of dust and dead bugs under her bed, where she kicks it, hoping to never see it again.

[aerialsuperiority]

unethicallybrilliant replied to your post “Fareeha shakes her head and scoffs. Angela deserves honesty, not mind...”

"It's not like she asked me outright what happened."

“...As much as it pains me to admit it, it wasn’t really you I was talking about. Though, honestly, commitment and dedication are also things Angela deserves.”

[voxnephilim]

@unethicallybrilliant liked for a starter!

    “Your tie is crooked,” said Angela, reaching to correct it for the other doctor. Once it was set she stepped back and tilted her head. “There, much better.”

    Nodding to what was done, Angela stepped back and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “So, what can I do for you, Moira? I’m afraid I don’t have anything new to report. My test subjects for my latest project haven’t shown any positive results yet.”

[primedspecimen]

“See, Doc gets me.”

[ridesagain]

“How’s it feel? Playing HERO?”

A Hero’s Guilt Meme. [ x ]

The Hog seemed to consider the question a moment, head tilting a fraction in thought. Then he shrugged.

“ Like it should pay better. ”

[iron-hardt]

🔥 + threesome

[nsfw headcanons] accepting

Reinhardt’s not really the jealous type and generally welcomes the opportunity to have a third (or be a third). With a lot of the partners he’s had it is not unusual for him to find himself wanting and able to give much more than they can reasonably be expected to handle, so it only makes sense to spread it around a lil bit.

[v--iper]

unethicallybrilliant replied to your post: Smash or pass Moira

“Is that so?”

“Are ya’ comin’ here to shame me?”

[worldsbestdoc]

“I’ve been through the Occult section of the library five times.”

There was hardly a better place to seek information than the university’s massive library. A classic scent of old books intermingled with the glow of scattered desk lamps to create an ambiance surely conducive to learning. One could easily get lost among the stacks, aimlessly if so desired or assisted by any one of the seasoned librarians. Books new and old stood side by side for the searching hand to grasp if only they were needed for a particular pursuit. Unfortunately–or fortunately, depending on one’s perspective–the occult section was sorely lacking.

Angela looked up from the sepia-toned pages before her with the approaching sound of her professor’s voice. Dr. O’Deorain had no doubt combed through every section and subsection relentlessly if she had any thought that it might divulge some material of use, and if she was unable to find anything obviously pertinent to the deaths on campus, it was unlikely that anyone else would have much more success. The blonde popped her hands through the sweater paws she’d made with her OMBCU sweatshirt, rising to help with the meager stack of books.

“There must be something. The library is closing soon, should we take them somewhere?”

Your office.

[amesyeuxrien]

INKED

moira’s tattoo isn’t anything new. she’s carried them with her ever since she was cleared for release from the hell the fiery-headed doctor forced her into. all of her tattoos carry meaning, of course, and they serve a purpose. they cover the scars, the little marks left behind by the geneticist’s cruel hand. her entire body was inked against the doctor’s wishes; she knows that moira most likely despises them. that she’d love nothing more than to take them from her, like she’s taken everything else away. 

the spider on her back, to cover the incisions made. the web spinning around her arm, to conceal electricity scars. each drop of ink sewn into her skin is both a silent rebellion and an unforgiving reminder of who she truly belongs to.  

[valkyrieonlinex]

unethicallybrilliant replied to your post: //Who do I have to follow to see all this dash...

Me, vitalsignsnegative, v__iper, aerialsuperiority

//i thought i was already following you lol

[primedspecimen]

♢

Send me a ♢ and I’ll make your muse in Create-A-Sim

So I’m lazy garbage and don’t really use mods for Sims. Again, because lazy garbage. But!!!! Here is the gorl!!!

So! I love seeing Moira in like... more formal looking attire? I don’t know why but I have a hard time picturing her in like a fuckin’. T-shirt and jeans, y’know? You told me your Moira is pretty straight all around with hardly any curvature, put on some freckles, and that she wears primarily black. Couldn’t decide on giving her the red or the blue eyes so I went with the red (ish) because that eye doesn’t have the metal over it. I feel like the metal thingy would kinda imply it’s augmented or something (tho I know her BW skin also has it but dlkfjasldfk).

Also wasn’t sure if she wore any makeup other than like... eyes and lips! So I left her cheeks barren. The model doesn’t seem to have any.

\o7o/

[crownedwidow]

Unethicallybrilliant

Positivity! 

Unfortunately, we have not spoken much behind the scenes, however, what little chatter we had, you’ve left quite a good impression!!! That means we need to talk and plot more, haha :P

[voxnephilim]

😏   //   give  my  muse  a  hickey .

There was something feral in the way she sucked on Moira’s slender neck. A latent instinct no doubt owing to the endless hunger her own blood provided her now, urging her to bite down and taste blood. Instead she had to be satisfied with the taste of skin and the notion of blood.

Her hands were tight around the other woman, a hand over one shoulder, the other cupping at one of Moira’s breasts and squeezing, working the supple flesh in her palm, enjoying the hard point of her nipple.

Yes, it would have to be enough.

[chronalized]

“Hey! Quit standing behind me and staring at my hips!”

“ with all due respect, miss, there isn’t that much to look at to begin with. “ the brit chuckled, standing on the very tips of her toes to swing an arm behind the geneticist’s neck and walk like they were the best of friends and not the worst of enemies. there’s a certain spring in her step as she walks down the foreboding hallway, moira’s tall figure making it rather difficult to walk properly. 

“ tell y’what: you take me out to dinner later tonight, and we can see where this goes, yeah? “