Hitman gav got messy and a messed up vaga boy
Keni
will byers stan first human second
Misplaced Lens Cap
dirt enthusiast

oozey mess
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
RMH
One Nice Bug Per Day
AnasAbdin
almost home
art blog(derogatory)

blake kathryn
taylor price
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Kiana Khansmith
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Jules of Nature
Acquired Stardust
Peter Solarz
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@shoothappy-blog
Hitman gav got messy and a messed up vaga boy
Commission for @achievementblunder 💖💖💖
selfsaving:
* & → @shoothappy .
something tingles up his spine. a feeling cultivated from a lifetime in the forest ; a sense that something is somehow … wrong. it’s hard to place it first. the whole place isn’t exactly friendly to begin with ( the white corridors and flickering lights of monarch labs not exactly mogar’s natural habitat ). he’s not sure entirely why he came back here at all —— perhaps it was this very feeling of strangeness that called him back to a place of unhappy memories. the need to revisit // and conquer.
but still he wanders through endless floors & empty rooms & feels like something must be there. somewhere. every new door that itch prickles up his neck until the feeling is practically unbearable. and only at that moment does the reason for it announce itself. patience running thin , he slams open the next door with grinding teeth … and freezes. a familiar figure there in the half - lit room now looking back at him. frown creases mogar’s features ( even more than usual ) , a long moment passing before a single , questioning word passes into the space. “ … vav ? ”
The slam of the door reverberates across the wall, and Mav nearly jumps out of his skin. A half-stifled gasp gets stuck in his throat and he swallows it down, grabbing tight at the edge of the desk behind him.
He’d been ready for a visitor. The monitor over his shoulder, illuminating the room in a pale blue glow, shows a myriad of cameras, active still, watching empty hallways and locked doors -- but even then, in this half-abandoned place, just an intruder’s footsteps can give them away, by how they echo up and down the corridor.
Still, little could prep him for the moment.
Knuckles and fingertips white against the desk’s edge, Mav cuts a dark, tense silhouette. The shape of it is familiar, maybe even the smell -- but it’s a clinically cold figure, sterilized like a hospital’s tile floor. A crisp white button-up and pressed black slacks cover a man of marble.
His voice, held tight in his throat, is the same, drawing up words that sound rehearsed.
“Looking for someone, love?”
rage and tenderness existing simultaneously in the same body
// hey yall, what's the common method for trimming posts now? tumblr obviously broke xkit beyond repair, so i need a new method to keep my posts looking good, pls help thanks
// someone: [responds to my ask] me: oh right, i run a blog.
BEEN TRAVELING IN PACKS THAT I CAN’T CARRY ANYMORE
BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEBODY ELSE TO CARRY ME
{ art credit }
snarksniped:
Son of a bitch.
This sucks. This really sucks. Ray leaves his phone back home during these robberies because they’re easy, the comm is all he needs for communication at all times during them and there was no point in dropping money on a new phone if something goes somewhat awry. For the comm itself to have problems without any prior warning, Ray can only blankly stare into the distance for a few moments in the direction the rest of the crew went.
For now, he is well and truly alone on this rooftop.
It takes a voice from behind him to draw Ray out of his own vague thoughts. He doesn’t move while the guy talks, feeling his mouth barely open before snapping shut. Not one for following directions outside of ones from someone he doesn’t know, Ray keeps his eyes forward before turning his head to see who the hell is behind him.
The gun is the first thing he spots. Not surprising in the least, but it’s not exactly the type of night where he’s looking to get shot.
Might as well answer the guy.
“ Uh, yeah, I’m kinda rude, I shoot people and help steal shit for a living. You want my whole life story while we’re up here too? ” Ray asks, taking a moment to fully shift his position to face Gavin.
" Oh, yeah, that’d be great, actually. "
It’s an earnest reaction. Gavin’s head tilts to the side, his chin up and his stare focused on the man across the way from him. His eyes light up, almost as if he’s found something funny -- but there’s a sternness around his mouth that doesn’t budge, not even a hint of give.
“ If you could start with identifying features, like all your past addresses -- ”
There’s almost a rhythm to how he speaks -- a verbal swagger, wrapped in a British accent worn even prouder than usual. He’s quite happy to have won, even if he can’t yet take his aim off of his target.
“ -- And then end with your plans for the week, that’d be top. ”
snarksniped:
@shoothappy
It’s go time when the cop cars roll up to the convenience store. Heist nights on simple targets usually follow the same formula: there’s Jack as the getaway driver, Michael and Ryan as the ones robbing the target, Geoff calling the shots from some distance away, and Ray himself waiting until his crew is out of sight to start. The sweet sound of a popping tire cuts through the sounds of his comm, Ray choosing to focus on his own successes as opposed to orders meant for the others.
There’s a sense of gratification he gets from all this, the way he can run circles around the cops and only getting spotted on the off-chance someone looks up (or the copters get called and aim for him, either or).
Maybe how well the operation is going dulls his senses.
“ You just got a chopper to contend with now. Got all the cop cars screwed over at the store. ”
Silence.
“ … Hey, uh, did any of you hear me? ”
( It takes him a solid few minutes to realize the familiar static in his ear is gone. )
“ Fuck. ”
Gavin’s in casual clothes for this one.
This heist is just like any other small-time hit, and it follows the same patterns. These are patterns that Gavin has gone through over, and over, and over, until he could execute the Fakes’ typical plan with his eyes closed, alone, and probably do it better, too.
But, there’s a reason the Fakes are on top in this city, and that means it’s pointless to try to stop them. That’s something Gavin realizes, that the local cops don’t -- and while they’re scrambling in the streets and getting their men up in the chopper to give chase, Gavin waits.
He waits, and he waits, until he hears the shots start just above him, and then he flicks the switch in his pocket, puts his phone away, and grabs the ladder.
He can hear the sniper speaking when he reaches the top -- speaking to no one, as the consistent buzz in Gavin’s pocket informs. Gavin lifts himself over the edge, draws a pistol from under his jacket, and sits on the lip of the building.
He waits.
And a few minutes later, he gets tired of waiting.
" Excuse me? ”
His elbows steadied on his knees, and his gun steadied at the back of the sniper, Gavin looks... bored.
" Could you say something revealing about your plans, or turn around, please? It’s sort of rude, innit? ”
Ko-fi request from @roosterhunter for gavin and a kitten but then i doubled it up and gave him 7 instead : P
// wails a sweet (but sad) jam on my harmonica
Gavin with slow mo kittens :3
If he knew how big of a pain this target was he wouldn’t have taken it on his own, but he got the job done.
Mission went wrong
hurt meme.
blueneighbcrhood:
“ i got you. it’s gonna be okay, you’re going to be okay.”
“i feel like everyone’s miles away from me.”
“my mind is a dark place. you don’t want to be there.”
“i know this hurts, but you have to stay awake.”
“don’t close your eyes, please don’t close your eyes!”
“i just want to be numb, i don’t want to feel anything.”
“please don’t do this, don’t act like you care.”
“you don’t care, nobody cares, just leave.”
“you’re my friend, of course i fucking care.”
“i can’t give up on you, so please don’t give up on yourself.”
“i love you so much, i forgot what hating myself felt like.”
“i fucked up, why do you not care?”
“i can’t walk, just go on without me.”
“you have broken ribs, take it easy.”
“i have no idea how to do cpr.”
“whose blood is that?”
“apply pressure to the wound, don’t let go.”
“don’t you dare fucking let go!”
“what the hell happened to you?”
“are they dead? did you kill them?”
“do you know what you’ve done?”
“you’re either with me or against me.”
“who the hell did this to you?”
“are you alright? you hit your head pretty hard…”
“i can’t see!! what’s happening to me?”
“when was the last time you ate?”
“what do you mean you’re fine? you are not fine!”
“i’m fine, it’s just a flesh wound, i’ll be okay.”
“for how long? how long were you bottling this up?“
“there’s so much blood, you won’t last.”
“are you… throwing up in there?”
“why aren’t you eating?”
“just breathe… you’re okay, i promise, just breathe.”
“i can’t breathe, i can’t –”
“i woke up, & you were gone.”
“just tell me something, was it really worth it?”
“it’s okay to hurt & breakdown. you don’t have to be strong all the time.”