#lmk if you want this to continue

[thee-ghosty]

Snippet #8

part 2 part 3

Civilian couldn’t have possibly predicted that just 40 minutes after their shift at the local bar, they would be covered in blood, have a random stranger in a mask bleeding out on their couch, and frantically looking up how to stop blood loss. 

They expected today to be just like every other day of their boring life. They passed by one of the alleys on their normal route home when a loud crash stopped them in their tracks. They could have ignored it and not gotten into this mess, but they had a vendetta against common sense, so naturally they had to go see what happened. A few moments later, they were arguing with a stranger, bleeding profusely onto the concrete, about getting them to a hospital. The stranger were adamant that they would be fine, they just needed to get home…which was on the complete other side of town. More bickering ensued before they settled on the current situation; Civilian nursing an almost dead person back to life. 

Civilian’s eyes frantically dragged across the computer screen until an answer popped up. 

“Apply direct pressure on the cut or wound with a clean cloth, tissue, or piece of gauze until bleeding stops. If blood soaks through the material, don't remove it. Put more cloth or gauze on top of it and continue to apply pressure.”

“Okay…okay. I can do this. I got this. Right.” Civilian muttered under their breath.

This was absolutely insane, they knew that and they were a breath away from having a panic attack, but they pressed on nonetheless. They rushed to the bathroom to get towels, some painkillers and a bottle of water before returning to the masked stranger on their couch. Their breath was shallow, but they were still awake. That’s a good sign, right? Civilian questioned. The stranger’s hands still covered over the wound, red slowly dripping through their fingers. 

“You need to move your hands, alright? I gotta cover the wound.” Civilian said with a quiver in their voice.

The stranger slowly shifted their hands away from their side, exposing the extent of the damage. It was a miracle that Civilian hadn't passed out from the sight. They had no idea how deep the wound was, but the amount of blood seeping through the person’s suit and into Civilian’s couch made them wonder how this person was still breathing.

The stranger hissed as Civilian placed the soft towel to their side, hoping they were applying enough pressure. Hell, hoping anything they were doing would actually help. What would they do if the stranger dies? In their apartment no less? 

They pushed the dread from their mind and thought of how they were going to get the blood out of everything. The towels they could wash, but the couch might not be salvageable...Wait. That's not important right now. Focus, Civilian. They mentally told themselves.

“I have some painkillers. Here, let me-”

“Painkillers won’t do shit.” The stranger said through gritted teeth.

"I mean, anything at this point will help. You might feel better if you would just let me take you to a hospital-”

“No.” 

“Why not? You have a problem with doctors or something?” Civilian questioned, frustration slipping into their voice. 

“No, they have a problem with me.” They replied. 

Civilian huffed. On the cusp of death and they're still acting like an ass. Maybe they should’ve left them in that alley after all. Civilian pressed harder, causing the stranger to grunt out in pain. They shot Civilian a fiery look. 

“Oh, did that hurt?” Civilian asked with faux sympathy, “I’m sorry my bedside manner isn’t up to your standards.”

“I didn’t ask for your help, you know. I would’ve been fine.”

“Oh, so I was supposed to leave you there to die? Yeah, no. That wasn’t going to happen.” 

The stranger looked at Civilian with pinched brows. “Why do you care anyway?”

Civilian held their gaze before shifting back to their hands, trying to figure out why they did care. “I guess it’s just human instinct. We don’t like to see people suffer.” 

The stranger scoffed at Civilian’s words. “Yeah, just like humans don’t mind hunting down their own kind for sport.” 

Civilian gave them a quick glance before placing another cloth over the now soaked through towel. “Can you say anything that isn’t angsty? Or is that a part of your ‘character’?” 

“Character?” The stranger asked, sounding almost offended. 

“You know, the mask and the costume. Is that character super edgy or do you talk like this all the time?”

Something stilled in the stranger, their eyes sharpening as they stared at Civilian. “You don’t know who I am, do you?” They asked slowly. 

“No…am I supposed to? I’m not super into comics or anything like that, so I probably wouldn’t know even if you tell me.” Civilian replied nonchalantly. 

“Does the name Venraire sound familiar to you?”

Civilian paused. Venraire was a big crime boss that caused mass destruction to the city a few years ago. Even though he was brought to justice, nothing could’ve made up for all the lives lost to him. Civilian slowly looked to the stranger, their heart thumping louder in their chest. A small smile traced the stranger’s lips, a darkness coming to their eyes. 

“He’s my father."

Oh shit.

To be continued...

[kinnbig]

Nodt Nutthasid as Big ↳ KinnPorsche the Series - episode 2

[lunesart]

Red son wig real

I mean they're all Legos so everyone has a wig technically

[thecryptidbard]

The way this also totally adds new context to Hetty’s lines at the end of Possession: “don’t live your life with regrets, Samantha. Go after your dreams. Because you are only here for a short time.” 😭😭😭

[imminent-danger-came]

do you think the writers are being too slow revealing what happened with wukong and macaque? like should the full story been revealed in s4

That's very subjective!

For me personally, I'm totally fine with how it's played out. We get enough tidbits every season/developments with their dynamic that I'm pretty content. I also just think that when the time comes, how they choose to reveal that information to us (and especially to MK) will have optimal impact!

Idk, I just think it's going to work out you know

[justalittleficsideblog]

s'ébahir

Gojo x reader Modern, College AU!

s'ébahir - (French; to be amazed, to be astounded, dumbstruck)

2k smth words

He always strolled into lab characteristically late. You envied his nonchalance, his stance of ease in which he would stroll into the lab and set his stuff down when the professor just began their lecture on the hazards you'd be dealing with today.

annoying

You were always early. Anxiously waiting for your seat so you could prep early and leave before the rest of your classmates.

The bastard was also, unfortunately, handsome. Devilishly tall with a lean build and white hair, he was a stark contrast against some of his fellow students.

"--it is IMPERTINENT that you wear your goggles the entire time during this lab. We will be dealing with concentrated hydrochloric acid--"

you droned out your teachers voice. Unlike some of the other students, you had read the lab manual the night before and watched a video on how to do everything correctly.

This wasn't your first rodeo.

Somewhat bored, your eyes drifted back to the male that was sitting across from you. The fume hood that was connected to your countertop obscured the view a bit, but you caught a glimpse of him leaning against it, head in his hand.

He seemed as bored as you were.

"Alright, lets begin!" An enthusiastic clap sounded.

You had noticed his hesitancy with the lab goggles each time. He chronically wore sunglasses indoors during class and around campus. But when it came to lab, your prof made no exceptions.

Tugging the too tight safety goggles over your eyes, you managed a glance to find startling azure ones starting back at you.

You smiled politely and turned to grab your equipment.

"Hey."

You glanced up at Gojo, who was leaning against your bench.

"What did you need this time?"

Gojo had a knack of stealing your shit since his tended to be always (coincidentally) misplaced or lost. He blamed Geto for it.

"Do you have an extra ring clamp? Geto took mine," he shrugged nonchalantly. You nodded and handed over the item, focusing back on your work.

"Do you know how much your putting in?" he leaned in closer, tapping your graduated cylinder with his hand.

"I can read fine enough Gojo."

"Are you sure? The lab manual said 12 mls...you wrote down 21"

Shit. He was right, you must've copied it down wrong last night.

It was slightly infuriating how sharp he actually was. He had such a lazy demeanor it was easy to forget he tended to be top of the class.

"Ugh, I don't remember how much I've put in it already." you ran your hand through your hair, frustrated as you eye the clock.

The liquid in the flask turned a murky brown, fizzing slightly.

Ok yeah.. that is definitely not what happened in the video.

Gojo leaned over and swirled the flask in his hands, the murky liquid turning darker.

"Yeah, you put way too much into that," he blew out a low whistle.

Fuck. You're going to have to redo the entire thing. Biting your lip, you glance at the clock again.

I'm not going to get a chance to study before my lecture exam...

"Oh come on, just partner up with me," he smirks, nodding towards his bench. "I'll even let you do all the work."

You scowled. You hated partnering up, you ended up doing everything anyway. But you were quick about it on your own.

Looking back towards your failure and the clock, you realize you don't have much of a choice.

"Fine," you nod and walk to his bench. "But lets be as quick as we can."

He grinned.

-

"Alright, now we just have wait."

The worst part about science, you argued, is the "waiting" portion of it.

Some experiments take time. This unfortunately, was one of them.

"We work together pretty well," he leaned forward. "One could almost say we have....chemistry."

You cringed as he laughed at your response. "Hilarious, Gojo."

A shadow loomed over you. "Did he get you with some of his science lines?"

You smiled. Contrary to Gojo, Geto was more composed and studious as you were. You both talked often, considering you had a lot of the same classes as him.

"It was too good not to!" Gojo replied, spinning around in his chair.

You rolled your eyes, glancing back towards your glassware. Geto was easy to be around, he was calm and didn't try to get a rise out of you like his white-haired friend did. He made you a little more nervous, he was kind of unpredictable. Not to mention pretty.

"I think its done," you pointed to the bubbling flask.

Geto nodded to you, "good luck then."

You smiled back at him, pretending not to feel your blue-eyed partner staring at you.

-

Gojo

He doesn't know why he wants to fluster you. Or why it grates on his nerves that you can so easily smile at Geto when you seemed to struggle around him.

Technically, your experiment earlier would have been salvageable. Yeah, your yield would've been low, but he jumped at the chance to work with you without thinking.

He meant what he said earlier, you both worked surprisingly well together.

Taking the flask from you, he began to dry as you washed everything up. He didn't quite want to be done just yet, labs weren't his favorite part but he found himself looking forward to this one.

Not that it had anything to do with you.

Geto always argued that he was "just into you" but he didn't agree. He just thought your intellect was interesting, that's all.

It had nothing to do with the way you always showed up with enthusiasm, drawing him in as he watched you be engaged with your work. He couldn't wonder why--

"Gojo?" Bright eyes looked up at him as you waved the last Erlenmeyer in front of his face. "Hey, we're done."

Startled, he nearly dropped the thing he was drying. "Right, yeah. See you around, then."

He cursed himself slightly for his cowardice.

"Well, actually, did you want to finish up the lab report quick ? We have plenty of time," you looked at your phone as you said it.

Realistically, he would say no. He doesn't finish his reports until the last minute anyway.

But to get the chance to fluster you more.

Ah, hell. Why not?

"yeah, we can do that." He shrugged nonchalantly. Geto met his gaze across the lab and quirked an eyebrow at him.

He bared his teeth in response.

"Should we go to the library then?" Your voice cut through his thoughts, catching him unawares as you shoved the paper into his hands.

He nodded quickly, fishing around in his backpack for his glasses as he ripped off the goggles still glued to his face.

He motioned for you to go first, following behind and out of the lab as he let you pick where to sit down.

You picked a spot across the campus cafe, he inwardly wondered if you came to study here frequently. Th atmosphere was quiet and there was a lot of natural light that made it easy to relax and focus.

Setting down his bookbag, he tuned into your ramblings about the lab.

"What do you think about the yield? I think we could base our conclusions around it. Maybe even mention the slight color difference when we added the--"

Your drive to finish this was commendable. He was put off a bit by how you didn't seem affected by him at all. Most people saw his sunglasses as odd, and honestly the general consensus was that he was constantly nursing a hangover.

There was a lapse of silence and you both typed away on your laptops, broken up by only you saying:

"Why do you wear those sunglasses all the time?"

Eyebrows raised, "Secret." The corner of his lip turned up.

"Is it because of your eyes?"

His smirk fell. It wasn't so much that he cared about how his eyes seemed to freak people out. It was more about how sensitive they were to light and packed spaces. He used to get frequent headaches because of it, but the glasses thwart off the edge enough now.

He merely shrugged in response to your question. "The light bugs my eyes sometimes."

You nodded back in understanding, "Ugh, tell me about it. I used to get migraines from the fluorescent lights when I was younger."

He stiffened. Such a minute detail, but he couldn't help but consider the gesture as an act of empathy. Seeing past his usual charm.

You both fell back into silence, quickly finishing your report and hoping off of the chair you inhabited just moments ago.

He felt his heart pound as you smiled up at him, watching your every movement as you threw your bag over your shoulder and made to leave.

"We finished that quick! Good luck on this exam later, not that you'll need it."

His arm burned from where you patted his shoulder as you strode out of the cafe lounge and towards some other study zone. Glancing down at it, he almost expected it to catch fire.

Eyes flicking up over his glasses, he looked down the hallway you had left.

Damn.

He might just have to make your lab fail next time.

[cassidysinferno]

snippet #2 — constantly rotting

CW — depressed / burnt out henchman , bed rotting , mentioning of medications, dissociating

Henchman hasn't picked up any of the calls from the Villain lately and dear god, Villain was displeased.

And for a good reason, Henchman was the most trusted out of all henchmen in the organization with how well they perform and how they had stayed with the villain since the beginning.

so, how did it all change? They showed up less and less ever since That incident, even if Villain had called or visited them, they didn't have the energy to get out of their bed- their boss being unhappy with their lack of presence was reasonable.

all they do is rot in bed. constantly felt like they were only wasting their years.

Hell, Henchman doesn't even have enough money to live anymore so not only were they on the brink of getting fired or even considering retirement at this point but also getting kicked out of their own apartment.

This is stupid.

They were unemployed in their personal life and even if they did show up at work again, they felt nothing but guilt as others started to talk to them less or try to avoid them ever since. They didn't even know what they did wrong?

so every conversation they tried to take part in felt awkward because of that.

They looked around their room, everything was..a mess.

They sat up on their bed, looking down at their scar filled arms. Why are they even willing to devote themselves to a criminal, thus risking their own life?

many thoughts ran to their head until their phone started to ring again. another daily call from their boss, apparently.

they let it ring until it hung up on itself, while waiting so they finally got up, put on their uniform, and got ready.

if they had remembered correctly, they were called for a personal meeting upon stepping in the building.

And if Henchman was being honest, they were anxious. but at this point, do they even care what would happen to them? no.

–

Well, that didn't go well. for the henchman, at least.

It felt like a counseling session rather than a meeting and it took them back to when they were in highschool.

back to when they got so fucked up that they got sent to therapy and put into medications.

the villain was..worried, yet displeased. they not only had known each other for awhile on the job but they've also been close.

fuck, they felt even more terrible after they were dismissed. going back here was a mistake.

They were ordered to organize more paperworks and, even if the villain didn't say it directly, they didn't want to disappoint the villain even further so they got to work.

Now here they are, printing copies of the documents the villain gave, I mean, most of the time they were dissociating anyway.

nothing felt real at this point, they felt extremely disconnected from their body. almost as if their own body doesn't belong to them.

they wanted to go back rotting in their room again but it seemed like it wasn't an option now that they were here.

they were just staring at the printer as the machine does its thing, well, at least their body is. they didn't seem to hear the knocking on the door of their little office the villain provided them until they felt a tap on their shoulder.

[rocicrew]

more shippy doodles : the girls edition

[asleep-kat]

Helping hand

[yeonban]

*Permanent interactions call.

I've been thinking about it for a while now, but like or comment on this post if you're alright with me sending you asks either unprompted or from prompts you've reblogged ages ago whenever I feel like it & if you're alright with receiving random starters if I ever have the ideas for them! You're never going to be obligated to reply to them though, so they'll just be possibilities for interactions in case you ever have the inspo for them!

[reiketsui]

therapy survived ✌

[rjwukong]

"He can't have you, so he watches you."

!!There maybe implied NSFW work within this fic, so i suggest 18 below mustn't read this!! This is just a short oneshot, lol. ______________________________________________________________ He had been stalking you for weeks now, seeing you just made him feel things. Things he had long forgotten how to feel. Like love. When he met you, you were just a mere human, in a coffee shop. But something about you drew him close, was it your scent? Was it the way you hair was neatly placed over the scarf you had? Or was it the way you held the coffee cup? He doesn't know. And he doesn't care. All he cared was you needed to be his. This obsession caused him to falter in things such as focus, and fast reaction. You made him flawed in his specialty. Fighting, stealing, sneaking around. You made him obsessed with you, maybe a little to much. He even made a small stake out spot next to your window, sometimes rubbing one out. His mind was littered with you. He grew insane for you. He wanted you.

[lcngdays]

@bloodbared // plotted

Temperance wasn't sure what it was about him.

Richter had never made much of an impression on them before. But they'd sailed through high school without a care in the world. They hardly noticed anything or anyone. He'd probably been there, and they just hadn't been paying attention, and then they'd left town.

Unfortunate circumstances led them back home, but that didn't mean they were going to give up on the Youtube grind. It was what was paying off their student loans, of course, so there wasn't much choice either way. They were back and looking for new leads on anything paranormal and they found him.

Temp had sat through the interview easily. Asked all the right questions at all the right times. Responded appropriately. Laughed when they were meant to, all the great things an interviewer did, they did. Things had a tendency to come easy to them, after all. But they were more than just enjoying the interview, they were enraptured by it. By him.

Maybe it was wrong, or weird to be so attracted to a man telling them about all the spilled guts he'd seen but they couldn't help themself. There was just something about him. Maybe it was their similar interests? Maybe it was having someone so engaged in what they were doing and saying? They didn't know. By the time the interview was over, Temperance was practically squirming in their seat.

They smile at Richter, glancing back at their camera set up. They stand and move to turn it off. Normally they'd leave it on to catch some post production, maybe some b-roll, anything like that. But not tonight. Tonight, they were going to shoot their shot. And who knew? Maybe luck would be on their side.

"listen." Their voice is casual. "i'm not normally so bold..."

Not on things like this, anyway. They'd only ever had one partner sexually and that had been one of the most awkward and uncomfortable experiences of their life.

"but like... i think you're really hot. and that was an amazing interview. and as much as i'd love to get to work on post-production... maybe." They stroll over to him, lightly lay a hand on his shoulder. "maybe we could spend a little more time together tonight?"

[licksoap]

four more af attacks!!! trying my best to get through revenges before i start my bookmarks :-)

top left: @f-furryalert (lilseabunni on af) Twisting Paths and Sea Slug/The One

top right: BellaStarDreamer11 (af) Bella_L_S_dogs (twitter) and bella_loves_shiba_dogs_ (instagram) Xavier

bottom left: @bztarantu (same af) Angel, greeting the dawn, and The Spear

bottom right: TUNA_T1ME on instagram and artfight

[imminent-danger-came]

Gotta say my tags from this post are killing me

We're living past the end of our myth for a 3rd time. Number three. Triple of 'em

[therighthandofvengeance]