Boy You Want Some Hawt Dawgs :3

Boy you want some hawt dawgs :3

classic + mtt!!! my new rising interest....

14. rollie - (g)i-dle

Sit up and you watch my freakin' crew They ain't give a second chance, it's true Pull up on your block, hey, you move

moving day is supposed to be simple. sans lugs a single box up the stairs. he’s humming a tune, completely unbothered by the world around him. behind him, his three self-appointed bodyguards – killer, murder, and horror – trail like hawks circling prey.

“this place is way too exposed,” horror mutters, his sockets narrowing as he glares at the complex’s open courtyard. “no natural defenses. too many escape routes. a disaster waiting to happen.”

“relax,” killer says, leaning against the stair railing with a sharp grin. “maybe the residents are part of some underground spy ring. could spice things up for us, huh?”

“or,” murder deadpans, “they’re just regular people. which makes any place suspicious by default.”

sans adjusts his grip on the box and glances over his shoulder. “you guys aren’t scaring the neighbors, are you? i kinda like the idea of people not screaming when they see me.”

“no, no,” killer says, waving him off. “we’re just… evaluating.”

“vetting,” horror corrects.

“being thorough,” murder adds.

sans stares at them for a moment, then shrugs. “alright, just don’t do anything i’ll have to apologize for later.” he heads inside, blissfully unaware of the planning brewing behind him.

***

first target:

horror zeroes in on a jogger stretching near the parking lot. the guy notices him looming and freezes mid-stretch.

“getting your steps in, huh?” horror grins, arms crossed. “or are you scoping the area? mapping the joints?”

the jogger stammers. “i- what- i’m just jogging!”

“sure you are, buddy,” horror sneers. he steps closer, his voice dropping. “how long have you been watching this complex? weeks? months? what’s your real plan?”

the jogger bolts away without answering, abandoning his water bottle. horror watches him go, snorting. “amateur.”

***

second target:

killer saunters up to an elderly woman sitting on a bench with her fluffy dog. his grin is wide and unsettling as he leans down to scratch the dog behind the ears.

“cute doggy you have here,” he says casually. “real… inconspicuous. bet it’s good for hiding bugs, huh? cameras? maybe even tiny explosives?”

the woman gasps, clutching the dog closer. “she’s just a dog!”

“just a dog,” killer echoes, tilting his head like he’s mulling it over. “or the perfect cover for you to survey this area.” he grins wider. “nice play, lady. i like it.”

the woman flees, her dog yowling in her arms. killer straightens up, chuckling. “they always run.”

***

third target:

murder blocks the path of a teenager walking through the courtyard with a bluetooth speaker blasting music. the teen frowns but doesn’t stop walking, instead walking past the hooded skeleton.

“turn that down,” murder says.

the teen pauses. “why?”

“because,” murder says, deadpan, “nobody listens to music that loud unless they’re trying to cover something.” he gestures toward the speaker. “what are you hiding? victims in your apartment complex?”

“i’m not holding anyone at my place!” the teen snaps.

murder doesn’t blink. “exactly what someone hiding something would say.”

the teen groans and hurries away. murder watches them leave, muttering, “how suspicious…”

***

by the time sans finishes unpacking the first box, the courtyard is eerily quiet. he leans out from the door and spots the trio regrouping, each looking way too pleased with themselves.

“hey, what’s with the silence?” sans asks, suspicious now. “did you guys actually scare off the neighbors?”

“scare?” killer grins. “nah, they were already scared. we just gave them a reason.”

“you’re welcome, by the way,” horror says, crossing his arms. “this place is probably twenty percent safer now.”

murder shrugs. “and quieter. you hate noise, right?”

sans groans, rubbing his nonexistent temples. “i don’t hate noise. i hate apologizing to people for your noise at night.” he points a bony finger at them. “you’ve been treating me like a kid all day, and you’re the ones causing trouble around here.”

“kid?” killer laughs. “sans, you’re practically a baby. no offense.”

“a babybones,” horror adds with a smirk.

sans raises a hand. “stop. just stop. you three need a hobby asides from terrorizing people.”

***

later that evening, there’s a knock at the door. sans opens it to find an elderly woman holding a trembling plate of cookies.

“h-hello,” she stammers, her dog peeking out from under her arm. “we, um, wanted to welcome you to the building. please… don’t let them-” she trails off, her eyes darting nervously past sans.

sans takes the cookies, glancing back at the trio, who are lounging like cats on the couch, staring at his direction unerringly. “don’t worry,” he says to the woman with a strained smile. “i’ll keep them on a leash.”

the woman nods quickly and flees. sans closes the door, turns to the trio, and narrows his sockets.

“alright,” he says, setting the cookies down on the coffee table. “what. did. you. do?”

killer shrugs. “just friendly neighborhood stuff. asking questions. bonding.”

“making small talk,” horror corrects.

“reminding people,” murder adds.

sans groans and plops onto a chair. “you know i’m an adult, right? i can handle myself. i don’t need three big bad skeletons playing cop with the entire building!”

“handle yourself?” horror scoffs. “you’re younger than some of my old boots.”

“yeah,” killer says, smirking. “besides, we can’t let you get snatched by a suspicious dog lady, sans. imagine the headlines.”

sans glares at them but grabs a cookie. “you’re all insane. but at least the cookies are good.”

the trio exchange smug glances and settle in, ready to guard their client for another day.

17 notes View Post

sleppingtodyeing

1 month ago

Lin Ling, working overtime on Nice commercials with tons of white and gold flashes and sparkles in the dark office at midnight: