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#that's the situation i'm in rn :) cool
has-brain-rot · 1 year
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I finally began watching voltron
OKAY SO at the recommendation of a super cool person (@imperfection-you-will-find (sorry if you don’t want to be tagged) ) I got into watching Voltron: Legendary Defenders and I just finished the first season AND IT IS A REALLY COOL SHOW. I know I’m like 5 years late to the party but the animation! Characters! World building! All very interesting!! Love how smoothly they blend those 3D models into the show, it’s barely noticeable
Here’s a few thoughts (before I go binge the next season)
- first off it is BOLD that the first episode is an hour+ long. like damn they didn’t have to do that but they did and the pacing is surprisingly good for what they had to do, though I lowkey wish there was more adventuring-to-find-the-rest-of-the-lions because that part was pretty interesting, especially when they talked about having to form a bond with the lions first
- Hunk is a cool guy and I really like how he develops and ends up being one of the more serious characters (when, unfortunately, he isn’t the but of the joke. He’s neat but they make fun of his weight a fair bit and that’s not fun). Love how he has a good sus-detector, also he was SLAYING when he saved people during the season 1 finale
- Pidge is REALLY COOL and I personally (so far at least) headcanon them as enby. they also give off transman vibes and honestly that’s what I thought they were going to do with the character until the reveal. It’s cool how they handled it, and I love that the show didn’t go for an all-boy cast because that’d be disappointing.
- Lance is kinda annoying but he’s growing on me. I’m not the biggest fan but I like how he’s developing. Blue colour scheme is cool, but damn he really put everyone and an entire planet in danger just because he crushed briefly on a girl. Shame.
- Shiro is COOL. We don’t know much about him and the portrayal of his trauma is a really good thing to add. I do find it mildly funny (in a dark way? funny might not be the right word) that like. Lance and Hunk are there because vibes, Pidge is there for vibes but also they were on a mission of their own, Keith right now is very mysterious and gives off many vibes, but Shiro’s backstory is that he was tortured for a year, forced to fight, there’s the implication that his body was forcefully modified as he was trained to be a weapon, and also he’s probably killed quite a few people and he’s trying to deal with that and everything while like, they’re vibing
- Keith is COOL. Red lion swag. Love his somewhat morally ambiguous vibes, also I feel like he’s going to be a big projection character. They haven’t really covered his background other than he dropped out, but I bet there’s a lot more going on. I can DEFINITELY see he is liked. ALSO I feel like the whole “you fight like a Galra soldier” is more than just a one off line. I sense it. Plus the whole “you have to earn the trust of the red lion, you can’t just befriend it right away” gives off big flags of “HEY PAY ATTENTION”. I could write so much about this but I wanna go binge the second season xD
- THE CLIFFHANGER OF A FINAL EPISODE. There is so much I could talk about (the character development, the battle scenes, everything is so cool. It’s like seeing all the things I wish we could’ve seen in steven universe and also I think belos would be proud of the general genocide even if it isn’t religion based). I’ll keep it short and just say that DAMN SO MUCH HAPPENS AND IT IS VERY COOL
I’m going in spoiler free and it’s quite fun! Thanks for the recommendation @imperfection-you-will-find, can’t wait to watch more so I can fully appreciate your super cool edits and posts xD
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Me: gets angry and speak my mind because fuck being nice and not saying anything, justified anger or not
My body: and now we're gonna give you a case of the full body shiver and stomach curl of stress and anxiety for being the worse person alive
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the-furies · 2 years
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sometimes cofronting with sourcemates is just like. Yes I remember you I remember how you treated me in source it Hurted but also rn I don't care about that anymore right now I would Kill For You. I care about you. I hate you. You're still a bastard btw. <3.
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talesfromaurea · 2 years
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I know people are trying to sound smart and cool when they say it, but being like "lol american isn't an ethnicity, americans r so dumb" is incredibly reductive and shows a lot of ignorance on the part of the person saying it
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thiefking · 1 year
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can't stop watching the dinnar🔥 video about to pass out at 10 pm like it is a sweet lullaby
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onyxodyssey · 2 years
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i think what confuses the fuck out of me is "they refuse to change themselves or work around others" can be both a very good thing that people want to see and also a very very bad thing and it's up to me to figure out which instance is which
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reuptakeinhibitor · 29 days
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might be developing feelings for my coworker 🙈
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spocksmalewife · 1 year
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i'm experiencing a dilemma
#tmi#so like ig i'm dating someone rn?#like i think??#idfk like literally don't know anything this is so new to me#but like we met at a [REDACTED] thing and like group chatted where the other person we were with did most of the talking but he kept#stealing like these sidelong glances at me like bedroom eyes type shit so like ik he's interested#and like ig that's also what freaks me out?#cuz i'm like verrrry anxious detached like i just want to run away but also he's like also really cute and i'm morbidly fascinated by the#whole situation???#so we recently went on a ''date'' (i'm assuming??? like he's still paying a lot of attention 2 me and we've organized other things)#but like that's what also freaks me out like due to the nature of our meeting like I KNOW he's big into seggs and ~~experienced~~#(no no not old we're thankfully close in age)#and like when i'm away from him like i get to thinking ''oh yeah i could do this we could do this it would be super cool and fun''#but when i see him i get all cold and nervous and detached#meanwhile he's like v open and flirty#like i do want to but i don't ugh#like idk what to do just see how this plays out?#like i also don't want to lead him on only to completely bail#and like i've given the impression like i can d'm but like i'd probably just end up curling into a ball dskfhdkjhjha my mental state is so#shattered aaaaaaaa#but like also is this kind of nervousness normal too?#or am i just mentally ill?#we've got a rope class thing scheduled so maybe experiencing closeness in a public safe environment will do a lot of the vetting 4 me#like i keep having running commentary in the back of my head of kat blaque saying ''s'bs can be so pushy and beg you to d'm them''#and like is this what's happening rn????#and like iw if i'm feeling like this bc i'm on my . and everything just feels gross to me rn#cuz man i tell ya back when i was ovulating my brain was a total crapshoot sludge of hormones so i would have done anything then#ig to summarize bodies are terrible and it should be the brain manipulating the body but it's the OTHER FUCKING WAY AROUND FOR SOME REASON?#update: ok lol now that i've calmed down a bit i realise i literally do not have to have sex with this guy#i can just do my k'nky shit and leave 🏃‍♀️
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pondscummy · 22 days
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real burn that bridge when we come to it hours tonight
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unnuminous · 1 year
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does it count as acting like a sullen teenager if you exhibit all the stereotypical hallmarks of a sullen teenager BUT you are never actually verbally rude to the people involved
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3vergr3en · 7 months
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A/N: I'm blushing over roommate Geto with mutual pinning 🤧 also, I've been having huge writers block rn 😓
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“Whatever you’re cooking smells delicious.” You emphasize at the end, slowly dragging your hand across his broad, muscular shoulders as you shuffled behind the latter till you situated yourself beside him. “It should since I’m making your favorite tonight,” Geto replies with a small smile, knowing the expression that’s soon to be shown on your complexion any second now. 
You gasp, a broad smile spread across your face before punching the taller in the bicep. But to Geto, it was merely a soft nudge. “Beef curry?” You question excitedly, even when you know the answer. “Mhm. Here, taste this.” He scoops a bit of curry from the pan and into the spoon, softly blowing onto it to cool it down. “Let me know if it’s too salty or too sweet.” He raises it to your lips with his other hand placed right below the silverware to catch any fallings. 
“I can do it myself, y’know?” You couldn’t help but blush as the male urged the spoon closer to your lips. “But little Ms. y/n loves getting her princess treatment.” He responds, tapping the tip of the spoon against your bottom lip. You roll your eyes at him, pushing past the feeling of your heart fluttering. 
You part your lips enough for Geto to push the spoon into your mouth. You close your lips around it, catching the curry onto your tongue before pulling your head back and allowing the spoon to slip out. 
“Good girl.”
You nearly choke. 
You watch as he waits in anticipation. You swallow the curry, momentarily closing your eyes before letting out a small moan of approval, “Sugu’, this is so good.”
He can’t ignore the twitch in his cock at your moan, but he smiles warmly at you in response. He raises his thumb to your lips, wiping away the excess curry at the corner of your mouth before licking the pad of his finger clean. You look up to see him gazing down at you. Calm down, Y/n. But you can’t when you swear you caught him glancing down at your lips. But you are as guilty when you do the same. He slowly leans down, inching his lips closer to yours. You hold your breath in anticipation, leaning in as well. 
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druidicity · 2 years
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god i hate that i’m a horny young queer man freshly moved to a big city but there is a covid pandemic + a monkeypox pandemic + i am extremely cautious and care about public health + i’m trans and anxious about birth control/getting killed. i genuinely do not know what the appropriate way to go about this is and so for now i am just not having any sex or going to any clubs or being exciting at all and i have sooooo much fomo about it but i also don’t want to get covid/monkeypox or be a superspreader but also since i am not currently having sex i feel like getting the monkeypox vax would be somehow stupid of me or taking it away from people who need it more, but since i don’t have the vax i’m deterred from going out, and so the cycle continues god i hate it
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asweetprologue · 2 months
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i'm loving the little garden arc rn bc I think zoro's behavior is a peak example of how luffy changes him as a person. when he and the others were getting turned into statues he was completely serious and was about to cut off his own legs so he could try to go out fighting. dire situation that he was treating with a dramatic sense of urgency. and then he sees luffy for 0.2 seconds and immediately starts doing bits. he's bleeding out and turning to wax and he's ribbing nami about striking a cool pose. the instant luffy is within shouting distance zoro reverts to a silly little guy. which is really just what luffy brings out in him all the time. zoro is fundamentally a goofball but he only drops his serious façade when he knows luffy has his back
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blednokrov · 4 months
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I've been having lots of fun designing random OP fusions for a hypothetical AU where people can fuse... Feel free to drop a combo of any two Strawhats in my asks for me to draw a fusion of them (I'm only reading impel down rn so please no spoilers)
More on these:
Mickey (Nami + Franky) - ultimate Big Sibling fusion. She's very balanced in her sense of responsibility, desire to take other under her wing and general "fun but let's keep it sane and safe" vibe. One of favorite fusions of Strawhats as her appearance often means "supervised fun that is otherwise strongly off limits" and they just love her in general. Overall, Mickey's cool, fun and sexy (and not allowed in many public places because she only wears bikini swimsuits). He fights with electrocution.
Didja miss me? Well, now you can look at my pretty face all you want - we're gonna have so-o-o much fun~
U.V. or just Violet (Usopp + Vivi) - the big dreamer one. She is really sweet and emotionally open - probably one of most child-like fusions, but often gets timid and unsure when it's time for her to to stand up for herself. She loves fantasizing and excitedly ranting about all these ideas on how to make world a better place, but goes into very absurd territory without noticing. They fight with a sling and explosives.
No, wait, but listen. But what if The World Government, like, printed money so that everyone can have some, and- No, wait, i don't think this is how economy works. Okay, what if we all just...
Roro (Zoro + Robin) - arguably the most unhinged fusion of them all. With Robin's morbidly creative mind and Zoro's general disinhibition in most generally dangerous situations, Roro is pretty much unstoppable once he set his mind to do something reckless, dangerous and possibly really violent (as they both don't have any qualms about murdering or causing severe bodily harm). However when not in "focused on following through with an insane idea" mode, Roro is actually a rather pleasant company! They're calm, collected and thoughtful, yet shamelessly silly, especially with Luffy and Chopper who they adore. Most of the crew is rather cautious about them (except for Luffy who whines how he misses playing "multiarmed tags" with Roro) because they can cause much trouble without supervision. On the other hand, they're very strong. They fight combining swordfighting with generating extra limbs (which also means an arm slashing you with a sword can sneak on you from any direction).
Oh. I see. How about we send his head- okay, his fingers in a box to his captain as a warning?
Note: Luffy has the privilege of naming all fusions and usually just smashes names together until it sounds like an easy to remember name... Sometimes inner logic of how the name was made is lost even to him
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sincerelyverena · 2 months
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the oliver fic section of tumblr is SOOOOO dry rn so I'm wondering if you could write about how you've been friends with ollie since oxford and got invited to stay the summer with felix. then while playing spin the bottle you and him have something? IDK IM JUST RAMBLING BUT YEAH
i enjoyed writing this so so so much. i diiiid take this in a way different direction than i anticipated, but i hope you enjoy this nevertheless. thank u dearly for ur rambles! mwah! 🤍
⟡⁺ SEVEN MINUTES IN HELL
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. . . OLIVER QUICK X FEM!READER ‘testosterone boys and harlequin girls.’ @ajs-222 @michael-loves-chickens @surazim @soocore @fedyascoffin
inbox is always open to requests!
in whichꕀ
✦ ﹒hate has no bounds. except when you're stuck in a wardrobe with oliver quick.
tagsꕀ
✦ ﹒implied sex ﹐fade to black smut ﹐enemies with benefits ﹐dom!oliver ﹐spoiled!reader ﹐reader would’ve probs bullied you in high school ﹐oliverrr you little stalkerrr ﹐felix and reader have a sister-brother connection ﹐ oliver brat tamer arc ﹐farleigh has naturally sharpened canines beware ﹐reader is a homie hopper ﹐YES OLIVERR USE YOUR HANDS ﹐DRUNK N HORNY, DRUNK N HORNYYY ﹐smack my ass like the drum slurp the dick til it cum ﹐forced proximity ﹐degradation ﹐phat exposition beware ﹐the plot is absolutely plotting ﹐implied incest between minor characters
THANK YOU TO MY WONDERFUL BETA READERS: @sparklehani ﹐@vikwrites
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You pushed the frame of your sunglasses upward with the pad of your thumb. The accessory nestled into the top of your hair, positioning yourself to soak up the grandeur of old money that ascended far beyond where the naked eye could see.
Saltburn. A spectacle passed down by word of mouth.
The double ebony archways are considered to be a set of doors shifted in position. Presented to you, the skyscraper-remnant entrance is extended with a gradual creak of effort. Revealing the beauty of the estate’s foyer in the process. 
“Miss Esmeray.” 
You were too absorbed in the elegance etched into every breath that was drawn in the manor alone to notice the suited male positioned behind the doorways. Declan, was it? You weren’t too opposed to not giving a singular shit about the name of a mere, working butler. 
To outsiders, those morals would’ve been doubted in the fashion in which you approached the estate’s employee. 
You inclined forward. The painted maroon of your lips puckered as you scattered lightweight kisses upon either side of the loose, wrinkled surface of the butler’s cheeks. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, Declan.”
He didn’t seem particularly phased – on the surface at least – apart from the cool hardening of his formerly strained eyes. 
“It’s Duncan.”
You stifled the urge to laugh.
“That’s what I said, wasn’t it?” You leaned backward with a hushed hue of voice and a poised frown. A frown that didn’t last long as you slipped by with an isolated thrum of your heels along the blemishless, maintained floors. 
The porters that had withheld your luggage followed suit, grasping the attention of Duncan. He continued to clasp his hands behind his back, surveying the situation with a stare that would put a hawk to shame.
“Leave the luggage there. The estate butlers will see to it.” The note of exasperation that tainted Duncan’s articulation caused your personal porters to arrange the stacks of luggage onto the flooring without missing a beat.
The bound of employees hit the open doorways, leaving you to bask in a well-deserved solitude. Or so you had thought.
The hue of your flickery eyes had fixated immensely upon the silhouette which overlooked the foyer. An individual that leaned along the fencing of the plank-relied stairway, slinked in the comfort of the shadows. Even in the limelight of darkness, you could scrutinize the sight of a chiseled jaw and the irises of dusked aquamarine. 
Oliver Quick. Bile slicked the crevices of your throat. That slimy, freakish companion of one of your closest friends from Oxford. The sole reason you were invited to the estate in the first place.
And that sole reason broke out into the foyer before you could’ve mustered a word.
“[Y/N]!”
Felix Catton. Gorgeous, radiant Felix Catton came bounding toward you. Arms sprawled wide open, and a grin of nothing more but graciousness broke across his lips. Devoid of awaiting a response, Felix tossed the base of his arms around your shoulders. The toned muscle propped behind the sleight of your neck, burying himself into you in the process.
“Hi, Fi.” You mumbled around the top of his broadened shoulder, basking in the familiarity of his scent and aura. The tension that had made itself known in the base of your abdomen uncoiled, just the slightest.
You had inclined backward momentarily. The palms of your hands propped themselves upon the sleight of Felix’s jaw. You surveyed Felix closely and blew out a sharp breath. “Felix, you’re looking thinner. What have they been feeding you here?”
“The summer fucks up my appetite, you know that,” Felix grumbled pointedly.
“That’s not an excuse, Fi.” Your forefinger pinched the practically non-existent fat lining his cheeks, reeling a small grimace from the male.
The dense thrums of rhythmic footsteps spliced unnervingly through the moment. You tore the unyielding hue of your stare from Felix toward Oliver, who positioned himself solidly against the foot of the stairway. 
“Ollie!” Felix unraveled his arms away from you, in turn, to acknowledge his self-titled best friend. The male was peacefully oblivious to the glowering irritation that etched itself into your gaze. “You remember [Y/N], yeah?”
“How could I forget?” Oliver quipped the mere intensity of his gaze maintained upon you. You felt as if he was staring right through you, aware of every crook, crevice, and secret of your being. Deep speckles of disgust were blanketed behind hues of feigned interest.
As the moment drew on, he extended a hand. You harshly glared into it. Whilst the remainder of the inner circle Felix had established in Oxford grew to warm up to Oliver’s meek, somewhat awkward presence. You loathed it. 
“Mum has been dying to see you all day, [Y/N].” The strained hues of Felix’s voice tore into the steadily growing silence. His lips curved upward into a thin smile. Felix could virtually feel the tension tighten between his two companions.
“She’s in the morning room.”
You pecked him on the cheek on your way out. “Thanks, Fi.”
Felix’s words of prominence held a generous truth. Lady Elspeth Catton pushed the teacup amid her hands aside the second her eyes had met the radiance of your presence. You mustered a small smile at the sight of the woman you had known for the year prior.
“Oh, darling. It’s been too long.”
The all-too-familiar scent of high-end designer perfumes assaulted your nostrils as Elspeth brought you into a momentarily embrace. You had come to terms with the preceding summer that she had grown to be more of a maternal figure than your mother ever would be. Even if you were inclined to remove your nose ring and settled for a less dramatic false lash to soothe her fear of what she deemed to be ugly.
In those logistics, you had no idea why she hadn’t thrown Oliver out the second she met his acquaintance.
“Come, come, come. Sit down, I’ll whisk up some tea for you…”
“Hot chocolate.” You had a hard time grappling with the concept of politeness.
“Oh, of course! How would I forget?”
As Elspeth handled the hot chocolate-bearing teapot, you were prompted to discuss the prior school year. Conversations flowed from academics to the selection of boys and girls alike who had the misfortune of encountering your diva-like logistics. 
Elspeth indulged in her tea. “Did Felix mention the festivities we’re having tonight?”
You propped a spoonful of whipped cream atop the chocolate goodness, a frown painting your lips. “Not at all. What festivities?”
“One of the annual dinners with the Catton’s family friends is proceeding tonight,” Elspeth explained, tone somewhat bored with the lack of any mentions of gossip present in this crevice of the conversation. The flimsy painted surface of her nail tapped away at her teacup.
“Please tell me it's the Lockwoods.”
“Who else would it be, darling?”
“Thank Christ.”
As Elspeth continued to chatter onward about the newest scandal she observed with the Lockwoods, you pertained to drifting off in thought. Concerning the night ahead. And the dread that followed with the idea of socialization with a bunch of stuck-up acquaintances alike yourself.
And Oliver Quick.
You rolled the base of your fingers around the rounded cigarette Felix had outstretched. Flimsy smoke curled outward from the plumpness of his lips, drifting upward toward the coiling stairs above your heads.
You circulated your lips around the rim of the drug stick, angling your hand backward as you took a hit – brimming with a  buzz of pleasure. The cigarette slipped back into Felix’s hand, which inclined away to pass it toward Oliver. Whom you hadn’t even bothered to glance toward once during the entirety of the night.
The remains of the others flocked behind, the light hue of conversation prominent in the air. The three others you’ve befriended – Wiona, Lincoln, and Valencia – had befriended the Catton children in their younger years. At the annual dinner that commenced the year prior, you discovered that they had developed an annual tradition for Spin the Bottle.
The sole reason why the group of eight traversed up the spiraling stairway in the first place, bottles of alcohol propped in hand.
A prominent part of you wordlessly hoped that the alcohol would loosen you up a tad. Alas, with the sensation of Oliver’s eyes bored into the back of your head. You were bound to feel a tad paranoid. Especially when you weren’t oblivious to how every movement you made was tracked. 
The minuscule smirk when the base of your nail had chipped. The glimmer of distaste when you looked up and down the outfits of the current houseguests. The burn of eyes when you laughed a tad too loudly. The indescribable emotion that blared throughout Oliver’s surveying gaze as you stared into him. An attempt of intimidation that was never accomplished.
The solid front of the bathroom’s tiles was undeniably cool, in contrast to the thin garment that shielded the top of your thighs.
You proceeded to tuck yourself across the minuscule opening between Farleigh and a most currently amused Felix. The glass-spun bottle of the night lay vulnerable in the grip of his broadened fingers.
“Care to make a bet on this year’s game?”
A short laugh stirred itself from the crevice of your throat. You inclined your head over the brink of your shoulder, scrutinizing gaze propped upon the curly-haired male sat inches away. Farleigh’s eyes crinkled with the intensity of his curved lips, tongue tracing the rim of his canines. 
You suddenly grew aware of the sheer amount of certain plastic bags you had smuggled down your bra upon arrival. Ziplock bundles of goodness Farleigh would surely die for. A sentiment visible from the mere spark of interest blanketed behind his eyes.
“You seriously think I’ll say no to a good gamble?”
With a tinge of casualty, Farleigh swung a singular arm over the bridge of your shoulders. His voice grew hushed, but the intention of his words burnt into the crevice of your ear. “One of those pretty bags of yours if it lands on Valencia and Lincoln.”
“They’re siblings, munchkin.” The force of your articulation twisted with a prominent combination of distaste and fluid judgment.
“So what?”
For someone who always had something to say, you hadn’t been rendered this speechless in a long, long time. Alas, Farleigh wasn’t the only soul that expressed his amusement with the fact.
Oliver stared right into you. Twisted amusement circulated within his gaze.
Felix proceeded to illustrate a spectacle of himself, the glass-rimmed bottle set down on the tiled ground before him. Dramatics and flairs. Nothing out of the ordinary for your beloved Fi, who expressed the rules and regulations of the game as if his company hadn’t played for the years prior. 
This excluded a scrutinizing Oliver. A prominent smirk threatened to overcome your lips at the sight of his cockiness. His prior attitude slipped away at the news of having to potentially be stuffed in one of the Catton’s family closets for several minutes – with his luck – accompanied by a total stranger.
You, on the other hand, couldn’t wait to begin.
Felix offered a riveting motion with his hand. The echo of uproar, paired with the creak of the bottle against the tiles bounced off of the thinly-veiled walls as he gave it a fluid spin.
The uproar crescendoed into a screeching halt as the pitcher shook into a steadied pace. Its glimmering tip angled precisely toward a noriette-haired girl, who was in the midst of pertaining her slight nose toward the strip of snow-white goodness laid out on the back of her hand. 
“Wiona!”
“You better hope and pray, darling.”
“Leave your drink with me, Wynn!”
Felix stuffled the broadened nature of his fingers into his mouth. He offered a low whistle toward Wiona, whose smirk was shielded by her bob-length curls.
He inclined toward the glass-rimmed bottle once more. “Right, whose the lucky boy… or girl? We don’ discriminate here…”
Murmurs of agreement followed the winding silence of the spinning contraption. Accompanied by short-circuited laughs, and gambled musterings. Overtaken by shrill yells as the crown cork inclined precisely toward Farleigh, whose curves were still draped over you. 
“Leigh, that’s you.” Felix had confirmed, to the delight of those inclined around the circle. His eyes crinkled, appropriate to the intensity of the sparkling grin that graced his otherworldly face. “The blue room awaits you lovebirds…”
The jangling of cash and the slip of dope occurred.
The game continued as such. And with gradual time, all participants grew intoxicated by the minute with the presence of booze and crack. Two of your tit-coke bags have been ripped out of your disposal with the force of the circle’s gambles, gaining triple the amount in the process. Especially when Lincoln and Valencia slipped into the next room.
You found yourself with the curve of your head lolling atop the pad of Felix’s shoulder. An endearing warmth buzzed throughout you, rooted in the alcohol burning the crevice of your throat.
One of Felix’s broadened palms settled upon the hitch of your scalp. The other claws at the scarcely dented bottle once more, sending it into a tile-searing spin.
Commotion peaked within the room as the pitcher sloped toward Oliver.
Shadowiness engulfed your vision as the wardrobe doors closed in. Bathing in the darkness of mere loathing for two factors in this twisted, twisted equation. For the bottle. And for Oliver Quick, who had never been closer to you than in this moment. Bile rose in your throat for the second time that day.
It was just your luck that the bottle inclined towards you at that moment.
“That’s ironic.”
A slither of outside illumination managed to crack into the wardrobe, lining the crevice of Oliver’s azure hues. Speckled with what was perceived as faint amusement, tightening the knot of tension present in the atmosphere.
The sleight of your back strained as you stumbled toward the clanky side of the closet, desperate to discover an escape. To no avail. The faint ghost of a scoff reverberated from the hollow of your throat. “What’s ironic, huh?”
For some reason. For whatever reason at all, Oliver inclined toward you. The slightest indeed, but it managed to send your heart hammering between your ears. Nothing more but pure loathing pulsated throughout you with the sudden proximity. It was the alcohol. Booze does funny things to the mind, right?
Olivcr’s alcohol-tinged breath mists upon your lips. His words slurred somewhat. “For som’one that gets everythin’ she wants, you seem pretty… helpless right now.” “Anyone that finds themself in a closet with you would be.”
“I’m jus’ sayin', it’s pretty pathetic.”
A gradual grin seeped onto Oliver’s face at the undeniable loathing that flared within the depths of your eyes. You looked as if you were a tick away from murdering him with your bare hands, and it brought him nothing but pure amusement.
“Pathetic…” The word dripped off of your lips with slow, taunting articulation. A twisted of taunted tipsiness. With the fiery force of each syllable, you leaned forward and clasped a sloppy hand toward the center of Oliver’s chest, an attempt to shove him further away. 
“Pathetic?”
You had made your intentions very clear to extend the distance between you and the male. To your luck, you had found yourself even closer.
Oliver didn’t appear phased, gaze carving holes into you. “You think the complete world of yourself, I’d say that’s pretty pathetic.”
Your stare narrowed down further. Silence draped over you momentarily with the intention of cold-shouldering Oliver until the seven minutes eventually ticked by. You adverted your eyes, purposefully scrutinizing the slight gap between the worn closet doors. The illumination blurred amid your intoxication.
 “Look at me.”
A roughened palm tore you back toward reality. Accompanied by a thread of fingers that pressed into the curve of your cheeks. Your once inclined head had surrendered into Oliver’s grasp, involuntarily meeting his gaze.
“Whoa… he’s finally thinkin’ for himself for once.” You spat out around the mere brute of his hands. Even though they radiated a certain chill only Oliver could possess, a prominent warmth glowed in every patch of skin he had clutched onto.
“Instead of bein’ Fi’s little hound…”
Oliver’s grappling hand seemed to tense with every batter of your words. “Shut your bloody mouth before I do it for you.”
“Wooow… so scary–”
You barely possessed the will to blow out another sharp breath before Oliver’s lips were interlocked with your own. The breath you had been holding hitched upright into your throat. Your chest constricted. In replacement of the disgust you preempted, velvety warmth pulsated throughout your entire being with a singular brush of the male’s mouth along yours.
With the fashion in which Oliver devoured your lips, you wondered if he wished to eat you alive.
You blamed it completely on the booze and the crack.
He was the first to pull back from the embrace, hands still tucked immensely around your jaw. A glow of succession is prominent in Oliver’s aquamarine stare, a glow that brought forth a sleight of irritation to overcome you.
“I believe you liked that.” 
“Your ego is as big as your head, Oliver.”
He inclined his head, a smile wandering upon his lips. “That wasn’t a denial, now.”
The palm that cradled the sleight of your jaw loosened the slightest. It moved toward the back of your neck, utilizing the position to guide you toward him further. His lips. So close. Nearing with time. The curve of your abdomen burned with a newfound desire, christening your inner walls with its molten warm goodness.
But you couldn’t care. You just couldn’t. 
“You’re completely… fuckin’ mad.”
The seven minutes must be up now, wouldn’t it? Your ears strained themselves through the momentary silence as you processed tidbits of laughter from the next room over.
You reminded yourself to beat the everliving Christ out of Felix Catton the next morning.
The palm still collared around your neck dug downward into the base of your shoulders. In the same leering motion, the edge of a heel curved into the density of your legs. Before you can even process the situation, the rock-hard surface of the wardrobe is felt underneath your suddenly aching knees.
“Now, now…”
You inclined your head upward. The twisted hues of Oliver Quick bored down upon you, like wood to an already brewing fire engulfing the inner workings of your womanhood. The hollow of your throat bobbled as you gave a dense swallow.
An even denser zip of Oliver’s dress pants sounded throughout the wardrobe.
“How about I teach you a lesson on how a brat should behave?”
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WORD COUNT: 3K MASTERLIST REQ ME!
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thegnomelord · 3 months
Note
Sorry for blowing up your inbox, but you've really got my creative juices flowing. So I want to expand on 2 ideas.
No. 1
Shrike Harpy Reader w/ oblivious Graves (bc from my knowledge, he's usually a vampire or regular guy) or Ghost (bc he was human before)
In which Shrike reader is getting progressively more obvious with their advances bc Ghost/Graves don't understand. The particular idea I had was where they think it's some kind of threat or prank. So reader is getting more obvious, and they think that the threat/prank is getting more intense.
That would be hilarious! Obviously, they will either find out or be told about the advances eventually. But the idea that you are courting them and they miss the mark entirely is so funny to me. Especially if their teammates laugh and refuse to tell them the obvious truth.
No. 2
Going off of the spider's sexual dimorphism + a different version of monster au. Pairing spider hybrid reader w/ octopus (cthulhu?) König (if you do reqs for him), where spider reader looks at him and is like:
So you're telling me there's an eight-legged hybrid, approximately five times my size, that could snap my spine like a toothpick, just beyond enemy lines.... Do you need someone to volunteer for a solo recon mission any time soon?
Oh no! My recon mission turned into a hostage situation, how unfortunate. But while I'm here, I should interrogate him... yeah, interrogating is exactly what I'll be doing with this giant tied up man rn....
👑 anon
No, no, anon I'm always so happy reading all the stuff you guys send me! I know next to nothing about Konig except the stuff I've read about him that turns him into a really perverted disgusting degenerate and while I'm not comfortable writing that, I hope one of my mutes picks it up bc it is super cool! I got a dancing with Ghost ask I really wanna do so Graves it is lol
CW:SWF-ish turns suggestive at the end, Graves being oblivious
Graves hates being the butt of the joke.
For the last couple of months he's been getting 'gifts' in the form of chunks of meat stabbed through various knives. It had started a knife being stabbed through burgers and steaks(typical American food), which he couldn't eat, but slowly progressed to rarer and rarer pieces of meat until he wound up finding just raw and bloody chunks of meat; a leg of some large animal turned into a pincushion, a still beating heart stabbed through with a knife, livers shish kebabed on a bayoneted blade. . .
And he'd find them everywhere, in the communal fridge, in his office, in his room. And while he didn't mind the free meal, he was a little unnerved. He knew it was you doing it because he had screened the minds of all his shadow's, but he didn't know why you were doing it.
He can see the way his shadows smirk at you when he finds another bloody organ skewered on your favorited knife in the fridge, your feathers puffing up and a not so quiet chirp escaping your lips when he sneaks the meat away to feast on.
You also become more touchy with him when you notice him accepting your gifts, though he has no idea of it. He trusts you, which is why you're allowed to sneak up on him, your wings spreading out to wrap around him like a cloak as you chirp a "Hello commander."
It makes him jump out of his skin, and though he chastises you about it, it's never as harsh as he could make it, his shadows giving him a knowing look that he can't reciprocate.
That's the worst part. None of his shadows will tell him anything.
He doesn't know much about your species of harpy except for the generalized knowledge of extreme speed and craftiness, so he can't figure out if this is some kind of joke, or threat, or you just seeing him as part of the flock? Or maybe it means nothing? He's especially confused when you grow bolder and one day he walks into his office to see a Bison leg sitting on his desk, once again skewered. Where did you even get the bloody bison? Hell knows but certainly not him.
Eventually a shadow grows annoyed by your constant bloody gifts in the fridge and with a very annoyed huff drops a harpy encyclopedia on his desk.
He'll need to get them a gift basket after this; he spends the next few hours just reading about all kinds of harpies, ears progressively getting hotter as the book delves deep into every aspect of the harpies, each sub-race's specific courting and matting habit and making him feel like he's reading porn.
Then he finds a chapter about your type of harpy, eyes growing wide like dinnerplates as he reads about your quirks. He doesn't know whether to go search for a cross or tissues. He reads more and more, turning pages upon pages, his eyes scorching every anatomical picture into his brain and making him think of what you're packing, his pants growing tight as the minutes tick down.
Just his luck that you'd decided the moment when his face is the hottest to walk into his office without knocking, another skewered offering on a plate in your hands.
"Christ!" He yelps, slamming the book shut and looking at you like you're his parent and caught him looking at a playboy magazine.
You puff up in surprise, your wings spreading out a bit before flattening back to your back, a soothing chirp leaving your lips. It used to mean nothing to him, now he knows what it means, his cock getting a bit harder in his pants.
"You alright commander?" You ask, walking closer, the talons of your feet clicking against the ground.
"Yes, yep, perfectly fine." He grunts, desperately hoping his vampiric state will suppress the heat in his face, but to no avail. "You-" His eyes settle on the plate in your hands, his body practically conditioned to salivate when he sees a familiar knife sticking out of the food.
"I?" You ask, then you note the book on his desk, your head tilting in confusion. "Graves?"
He swallows, eyes darting from the food to you, and he doesn't know which one he's starved for more. "You've been wooing me like a dolly huh?" He asks.
"Yeah." You're unsure of what else to say, in your head, had he not wanted your advances he would have never taken your offerings. Then you realize. "Don't tell me you just noticed." You deadpan.
Graves gives that awkward chuckle you've grown to love, and you decide you need to be bolder. You place the plate on his desk and lean over it, a coo rumbling in your chest— deeper, rougher, seductive.
"How about I show you what I want?"
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