#IT ALL WENT FROM 0 TO 100 SO FAST

[gwendolynnderolo]

i love that the mighty nein are just immediately ride or die for marion lavorre. like she tells them that a guy is being creepy to her and within a day they’ve blown him up with a fireball, attacked him with tentacles, killed his guards, repeatedly knocked him out, cut off his hand, and blackmailed him into fleeing the city. absolute icons.

[neptune-scythe]

writing a fic

me: has a good idea of how the story is going to go and the general vibe and tone of it

also me: immediately looses all control over the story and watches it become 300% darker and more brutal in just the first sentence

me:

[emotargaryen]

when you miss the ‘breeding’ tag on a fic and get jumpscared halfway through

[themeanbeanhq]

We gotta talk about the fact that all of those deleted scene Robotnik livestreams were all very unhinged and silly, contrasts so unbelievably with that "final announcement stream", the one they actually kept in the movie!! Like, the way it goes from total goofing to this heartbreaking last goodbye from a soul who realized his feelings towards another human way too late😭❤

stakes went from 0 to 100 so fast here😭

[paintedonmyteeth]

Making out with Mr Scarletella hcs? Please please please with a cherry on top 😔❤️

Making Out w/ Mr Scarletella

HELL YEAH, I gotchu 😤😤😤 Here you go Mr. Delulu HCs for you — my ass busted this out so quick I had to throw on In My Room from ICP for this as extra motivation HAHAGNEJBFJS, I also just did this off of Mr. Scarletella’s crimson rain ending cause yes

⭑.ᐟ — Ever since Mr. Scarletella became your personal pet umbrella servant of yours, this man’s delusional behaviour towards you has gone fucking skyward.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Scarletella ofc is forever loyal to you and he’ll do anything, I mean anything to please you. Legit he will kill somebody w/o hesitation if you ask him to. He just loves that much it’s borderline mentally insane.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Scarletella’s even more ecstatic at the fact he can now be close and be forever at your side. But with this dream come true also comes with some unfortunate news; and that’s his jealousy towards Mr. Crawling.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Scarletella’s also wanting some attention ofc, he doesn’t like that Mr. Crawling gets all the kisses and head pats, give him some love too >:((

⭑.ᐟ — “Give pat?”, was the first question you heard as you were wandering the halls with Mr. Scarletella trailing after you. Mr. Scarletella just had this look of desperation— or like, this pathetic sad look of a puppy that was wanting some attention. Well, Mr. Scarletella’s been well behaved so where’s the harm in obliging his request?

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Scarletella was over the moon when you said yes but his mind didn’t register your grip suddenly clenching his umbrella and he suddenly just felt a wave of heat course through his bones just now. The ghost was just at a loss of words and looking flushed red until you grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled him in — and the touch of your soft lips against his made his brain explode.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Scarletella was absolutely fucking red, red like his goddamn hair and trench coat, his breathing was suddenly picking up, and lord if he had a pulse it would’ve been going absolutely haywire right now. He returned the kiss and his arms gingerly went around your waist to pull you close to him.

⭑.ᐟ — The kiss was passionate until it went from 0 to 100 fast when you suddenly added in the tongue, and Mr. Scarletella was NOT ready for this at all. The kiss was messy with your tongues entangled and dancing, the taste of you was driving him absolutely insane, he was just squeezing you tightly in his hold and he never wanted it to end.

⭑.ᐟ — By the time you broke away from the kiss, Mr. Scarletella was panting heavily, flushed red, his pupils were blown wide and he had this dopey lop-sided smile broadening on his features. Yeah, he reallyyyy loved that.

⭑.ᐟ — Now speechless, Mr. Scarletella disappears to go off in hiding in the umbrella to clear his head after that kiss, because it clearly fucked him up — in a good way ofc. He’s gonna need a couple few business days until he’s somewhat 'normal' again, and he’s definitely going to be asking for more of those kisses the next time.

[defectivevillain]

those who fall

pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Reader (can be platonic or romantic)

reader's race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.

summary: “What’s your name?” you ask your companion. “Hannibal,” he responds. The man doesn’t look the slightest bit malnourished, despite your predicament. Either he’s new here, or he’s been able to keep his hunger satiated. “Hannibal,” you repeat, taking note of his vaguely European accent. “That’s a strange name.” Hannibal just blinks. The man looks almost expressionless, but you can see a hint of irritation at the edges of his faux smile.

word count: 3k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical blood and violence, death, suicide, cannibalism, gore, suicidal ideation/self-harm. Emphasis on the cannibalism — both willing and non-consensual cannibalism. Mentions of throwing up/vomiting.

author's notes: Happy spooky pride! (I'm being told it's also called Halloween...? Weird.) Here’s a really fucked up fic. :3

If y’all haven’t watched The Platform, here’s the trailer, which should explain things. I’ve also attempted to write an explanation, but it’s long and bad. Here it is anyways, in case you don’t want to watch the trailer:

There is a vertical prison system that stretches more than 300 levels down. Each floor houses two people, and there’s a large hole in the middle to accommodate a table. Each day, a single table starts at Floor 0 and makes a stop at each floor. The table is loaded with a ton of dishes for a large and extravagant meal. Floor 1 gets the table for a short time before it drops to Floor 2. So on and so forth. People aren’t allowed to take things from the table to save for later, so it’s a scramble to eat enough to keep them nourished until the next day. They’re all eating from the same table, so as the floors get lower, there’s less and less food left. Inhabitants stay on their floor for one month, before they’re exposed to gas and moved to a different floor for another month. Basically, the lower the floor, the less likely you’ll be to get any food. In theory, if each person ate only their own ration, the food might last. But some people are greedy, wasteful, etc... A floor below 100 is virtually a death sentence, because that means 200 people pick at the food before you get to.

heed the warnings listed above before reading!

You wake up, blinking away the traces of a gas-induced sleep. It’s the beginning of the month, which means you’ve been transported to another floor in the facility. Groaning, you blink blearily, only to find someone staring down at you. You flinch and get up, hoping he’ll move away. But he continues looming over you, looking at you with a scrutinizing gaze. 

“You must be my new roommate,” he says emotionlessly. 

“How’d you wake up so fast?” you respond, squinting at the daylight seeping through the room. Typically, the gas is strong enough to leave you knocked out for at least twelve hours. But this man is already awake, and there’s no telling how long he’s been standing before you, watching you. The thought unnerves you. 

He just shrugs in lieu of a response to your question. You take a deep breath and turn towards the far wall, dread coiling in your chest as your eyes find the number of the floor you’re on: 139. Fuck. You’ve never been this low before. You had the 76th floor last month and the 23rd the month before that, then 87, 6, and 53. You had no idea the floors went down past 100; all you knew was that you’d be getting a new roommate this month, in light of your past roommate’s death. 

Floor 139 is practically a death sentence. You’d normally be able to fast thirty days, but you spent all of last month fasting at Floor 76. (You didn’t have much of a choice, as the food never made it down to you in the first place.) You push yourself to your feet and walk near the center of the space, glancing down only to find more floors stretching down as far as the eye can see. There are dozens—maybe hundreds—of people beneath you. You want to throw up. 

“You look frightened,” your new roommate remarks, breaking you out of your spiraling thoughts. You glance at him, unable to hide your irritation. 

“Of course I am,” you snap, beginning to pace around the edge of the hole in the floor. “The food will never make it down this far.” 

“How do you know?” he hums. There’s a knowing smile on his face, as if he wants you to concede and utter the words aloud. 

“The food didn’t even make it down to level 87,” you recall, shaking your head as you try to fight off memories of an aching stomach and a debilitating weakness anchoring you to your bed. “And we’re fifty-two levels beneath that.” 

Silence. You swallow hard and try to maintain your composure. Panicking won’t do you any good.  And you definitely don’t trust this stranger enough to show him any sort of emotional vulnerability. You bite the inside of your cheek and think for several minutes. “What’s your name?” You later ask your companion. 

“Hannibal,” he responds. He takes another step backwards and light falls on his face, revealing a chiseled facial structure, brown-grey hair, and glimmering brown eyes. The man doesn’t look the slightest bit malnourished, despite your predicament. Either he’s new here, or he’s been able to keep his hunger satiated. 

“Hannibal,” you repeat, taking note of his vaguely European accent. “That’s a strange name.” Hannibal just blinks. The man looks almost expressionless, but you can see a hint of irritation at the edges of his faux smile. 

“How’d you lose your roommate?” you continue determinedly, desperate for some information on this guy. Something about him unsettles you. It must be the unbothered way with which he analyzes your surroundings, as if you hadn’t both just been given a finite expiration date.  

Hannibal studies you for a long moment. “You don’t want the answer to that question.” He eventually answers. A shiver rolls down your spine. 

“You killed them,” you realize aloud. 

“And ate them,” he confirms casually. Your heart starts thudding quickly in your chest. You pretend not to be affected by his confession. Internally, you’re scared for your life. To think that you’d survived months of starvation, only to die at the hands of another human? “What happened to your roommate?” Hannibal continues, before you can truly collect your thoughts. 

“They jumped,” you remember to say, the taste of bile climbing up your throat. There’s no need for further explanation. 

“Ah.” A tense quiet descends on the air once more, and the two of you spend the seemingly countless hours before the table’s arrival in silence. 

When you finally hear the telltale whirring of the table above, your stomach growls. You need food rather desperately—especially after not receiving any legitimate nutrition last month. Your hands are shaky; your vision is blurry; and your legs feel as if they’ll cave in at any moment. 

The glassware rattles and the table sinks down to your floor. Hannibal and you both look at the remnants of the meal from above, only to find plates licked clean and glasses entirely empty. As you expected, there is nothing left for you to eat: not even a crumb or bone. 

There is, however, a man crouched on the table. He stares ahead with blank eyes, as if he doesn’t even see either of you. You look at him for a few moments, immediately promising yourself not to get any closer. In this place, vulnerability is weakness. You’ve seen it happen before: someone will extend a helpful hand to another person, only to be stabbed through the back in the same breath. There is no saving anyone here. You are all destined for death, regardless of when it may come. 

Hannibal regards the new arrival for several seconds, before quickly reaching out and grabbing his collar, yanking him off the table and onto the pavement. You watch in disbelief as Hannibal brandishes a knife—when in the hell did he get that?—and stabs him several times. Your roommate’s ferocity ensures the man’s death. Calmly, Hannibal drags the corpse by the ankles until it’s closer to the walls. 

Then, he sinks his knife into the body’s skin. The victim, unsurprisingly, doesn’t so much as flinch. The knife pierces the skin of his chest and Hannibal sinks his hand into the cavity, gripping the entrails and pulling them out with practiced precision. He gets to his feet, holding the liver in his hand. You watch in silent horror as his head turns and his gaze finds you, his eyes trained on you even as he raises the organ to his mouth and begins eating. 

Your stomach turns in disgust and revulsion. You’ve survived months of fasting—you never ate another human, despite the earsplitting screams from above and below indicating that several other inhabitants did. Even though you know you need to eat, the thought of tearing into that corpse is enough to make your appetite disappear. You quickly turn your head and clamp a hand over your mouth, before raising it to cover both your nose and mouth. The scent is enough to make you nearly hurl. You close your eyes and pretend you’re somewhere else—anywhere else, but trapped on this floor with a cannibal. 

Your ears are ringing at the confirmation that Hannibal is a seasoned killer. This was not his first kill, and it likely won’t be his last. There is a very good chance you’ll be his next meal. Fear pulsing through your veins, you manage to pull your knees close to your chest and close your eyes. The cool metal of your lighter grounds you to this horrible moment, this stiff and unfeeling air. 

If you had known just what horrors you would be subjected to, you would’ve chosen a different object to bring. Maybe you would’ve even chosen a weapon to protect yourself or a form of entertainment. But your naive self chose a lighter—not even for smoking, but just to watch the flickering flame. Your finger now twitches to bring the flame to your skin, but you resist the urge. There is enough pain and suffering here without your own self-inflicted torture. 

It is hard to sleep that night. Your thoughts are buzzing too loudly. It takes a while for your eyelids to slip shut, and once the table comes rocketing by, you shudder awake and have to fall asleep once more. When you finally succumb to slumber, your dreams are distorted and cryptic. 

The weird sensation of something in your mouth pulls you from slumber. You open your eyes to find Hannibal standing over you, the crimson light casting shadows across his face. You instinctively want to belch at the foreign material, but Hannibal’s hand is secured firmly over your mouth. You immediately catch on to what he’s doing: he’s feeding you some of the corpse’s meat. 

You try to fight back—attempting to shove him off—but his grip is too strong and you’re weakened by hunger and lack of sleep. You’re forced to chew, unless you want to choke and die. A shudder runs through your entire body as you chew, disgusted with the texture. The taste of iron and copper runs through your mouth; the smell alone is enough to make you gag. After what feels like far too long, you manage to swallow. 

Satisfied, Hannibal steps away—and you immediately fall off your bed and to the floor, stumbling to the sink to drink some water and flush the organ down. “Fuck you,” you spit at him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. It comes back bloody, and you take extra effort to scrub your face clean. Hannibal doesn’t seem to be affected by the insult. Rather, he’s wearing an understanding smile on his face—and you’re growing more and more overtaken with the urge to punch that look off his face. You clench the faucet with an increasingly tight grip, until there are bolts of pain sliding through your fingers. 

“You will thank me soon,” Hannibal remarks, staring at you. You can see his heated gaze in the cracked mirror before you. It’s clear what he’s trying to say: if you don’t eat, you will die.  

“I won’t,” you say numbly, your heart roaring in your ears. “You should’ve left me alone.” Your voice breaks at the end of that sentence; if Hannibal notices, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he only looks at you imploringly. 

“You need proper nourishment,” Hannibal maintains. 

You hiss and walk back to your bed, turning to the side so you don’t have to look at him. You’re not foolish enough to turn your back on him—not when you know just what he can do. You don’t want to indulge his murderous sensibilities. You spend the rest of the day split between seething and suppressing the urge to throw up.

When night falls, Hannibal goes to sleep. You only pretend. When you hear the steady rise and fall of his breathing, you push yourself up quietly and sit on your bed. You will not fall asleep tonight. You don’t want a repeat of last night. 

Despite your quiet movements, it doesn’t take Hannibal long to notice that you’ve shifted. “You’re not sleeping,” he says aloud, admittedly startling you as the uneasy silence across the space is broken. When you comprehend his remark, you can’t stop the wry laugh that falls from your lips. 

“I don’t trust you,” you respond candidly. There’s no point in pretending otherwise.  

Hannibal lets out a strange noise. It takes you a few moments to realize that he’s just laughing. “If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it already,” he then says. “You are… the least insufferable of my companions so far.”

You blink in the near darkness. “Thanks,” you say dryly. That statement isn’t reassuring in the slightest. You don’t want to wake up to find him forcing organs down your throat again. The thought sends a renewed wave of nausea through you, and it takes you several moments of measured breathing to fight it off. 

Eventually, you fall asleep. You can only fight off the exhaustion for so long, and if you’re not eating, then you definitely need to be resting to conserve energy. 

You wake the next morning breathing hard, expecting to see Hannibal looming over you. But he’s only sitting on his bed, regarding you with a blandly amused look. It appears he won’t be forcing you to consume human entrails again. 

But little do you know, Hannibal doesn’t have to force you next time. 

It’s been sixteen days since that horrible night. Sixteen days without food. Your body has grown incredibly weak. You can barely push yourself up to get to the faucet across the room. Speaking takes too much energy. Most of the time, you just lie on your bed and stare at some point in the distance, losing yourself in memories long gone. 

You can’t find the energy to waste on getting angry. Instead, you’re just… empty. The movement of the table is the only thing that helps you discern the time. The corpse Hannibal took all those days ago has since become a rotted pile. Neither of you have seen anything resembling food on the table. The people above are merciless. They eat the rations of several people; they spit on everything in reach. 

You don’t bother to look up at the table’s arrival today. There will be nothing for you to eat. And indeed, when you finally drag your eyes over, there is only glassware and silverware… scattered around a person in the center. They sit cross-legged and stare ahead with that similar unseeing expression from the man all those days ago. 

You don’t need to watch to know what happens next: Hannibal drags them onto the pavement, brandishes his knife, and kills them. He dissects them with the mercy of a disinterested scientist, before sparing you a simple look. There’s a single drop of blood carving a path down his lips. Hannibal wipes it away. 

You extend a hand wordlessly. 

Hannibal stares at you, a complex emotion passing over his face as quick as lightning. He places a bloodied chunk in your palm. The crimson stain spreads across your skin. You look down at it and feel… nothing. There’s an echo of disgust and horror, perhaps. But beyond that, you’re an empty shell. This place has changed you. Emotions do not survive here—instinct does. And your instincts tell you that you need food. 

Minutes later, the gnawing pain in your stomach has subsided and there’s the horrifically familiar taste of iron settling on your tongue. You swallow hard and slowly push yourself to your feet, mechanically walking over to the sink and getting some water to wash it all down. Your hands are shaking but you manage to satisfy your thirst. Turning the faucet off with shaking hands, you lean against the wall and sink down into a sitting position. 

There’s dried blood on your hands. It doesn’t matter that you washed it away—you can still see it. It haunts you, even when the night arrives and the floor is drenched in crimson light. You’ve since migrated to your bed, but you can’t get yourself to move from your sitting position and lie down. You can’t give yourself comfort. You don’t deserve it—not after what you’ve done. 

You’re not sure how long you sit silently, watching the darkness settle and fade into a dusky light. There’s a persistent pain in your back and your cuticles are picked open, yet these sensations fade to obscurity when you remember the meal you just willingly consumed. You had no choice seventeen days ago. You can’t say the same for yesterday.

There’s an uncomfortable wetness clinging to your cheeks and eyelashes. You’re crying, you realize. It’s been a while since you’ve cried, even with all the horrors you’ve witnessed here. You shakily wipe at your tears, but they keep falling. Falling prey to the burning in your throat, you bury your head in your bent knees and struggle for breath. 

At some point, there’s a hand on your back. You’re so exhausted that you don’t even flinch, because you can’t seem to muster up the energy. Your body is wracked with chills and phantom shivers as you try to comprehend just who is offering you comfort. The same person who kills others with ease and feasts on their remains… is wrapping an arm around your shoulders and sitting on your bed next to you. 

You don’t have the strength to push Hannibal away. You lack the strength and fortitude to do so. Hannibal is the only human contact you will have, if you continue living. You don’t have a choice—if you want to maintain your sanity, you’re forced to cave into the loneliness screaming behind the confines of your rib cage. That’s what you tell yourself as you reluctantly begin to relax in his hold. You cling to him with increasing desperation. Hannibal’s hand rises to the nape of your neck, cradling your head in what feels like an intimate gesture. 

You can’t stop the sobs crawling out of your throat. 

You want to assign Hannibal the blame. But you know it’s not that simple. He didn’t put you in this prison system; he is nothing more than another participant: one with the courage to keep themself alive, at any cost. Perhaps you should be more like him.

…It’s a chilling thought. 

You have never been so desperate for answers, inside bleak cement walls that give you nothing except more questions. The sparkling silverware; the gleaming glassware; the callous cruelty of those above; the painful plight of those below. There is no solidarity or community amongst the people in these walls: only the concepts of superior and inferior… and the fallen. Those who have been above, have savored without suffering… only fall from grace and stumble into starvation’s relentless grip once more. 

Your tongue recognizes the taste of copper; your hands the crimson stain that becomes a murky brown as time passes. You have fallen. And of one thing, you are certain: you will never rise again.

thanks for reading! <3

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[demonic0angel]

Violent Violet where Sam and company know Stephanie is Spoiler, but go along with her attempts to hide it out of respect/they think it's funny.

Danny coughed. “So. Uh. Is anyone going to tell Stephanie that we know she’s Spoiler?”

Sam grimaced. “I’d rather not. What if she gets angry because we found out and then she breaks up with me before killing me and going on the run back to Gotham?”

“Wow, that went from 0 to 100 fast,” Tucker said, sounding impressed. “And also, don’t Gotham heroes have a reputation for a no-kill rule?”

“Isn’t there one that kills?” Danny asked. “The cool one? Who’s always radiating ectoplasmic rot through the TV screen?”

“Oh yeah! The one that Jazz likes!”

“Guys!” Sam interrupted. “Weren’t we just talking about Steph?!”

“Oh yeah.”

“My bad.”

Sam sighed through her nose. Danny patted her on the back and Tucker put his hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about it, Sam,” Danny said comfortingly. “Steph doesn’t have to know that we know her identity! I mean, we kept Vlad’s, and Val’s, and Dani’s, and Dan’s, and Ember’s, and Dorathea’s, and mine, and…”

They all went quiet with a frown as they realized that all of them knew a little too many secret identities for it to be normal.

“Wow,” Tucker said. “We could ruin so many people’s lives.”

Sam sighed again. “Not helping, Tuck.”

Tucker shrugged helplessly. He and Danny shared a look, knowing that Sam was only anxious because this was possibly the first time she had ever fallen in love and said girl was actually a vigilante from another city who might just leave her and never come back. Sam was allowed to be nervous, so none of her friends were willing to be offended by her snappiness.

“Don’t worry about it, Sam! We’ll keep Steph’s identity safe! And nothing will go badly!”

Sam and Danny both turned to stare at Tucker with exasperation. Tucker laughed nervously and knocked on the wooden table. “Actually… never mind.”

“Great. Now we’re jinxed.”

(Thankfully, it did not actually go badly.)

[andre-and-cal]

Do you got any scary Andre and Cal HCs?

Yes, I’ve got a few scary headcanons for em !! Enjoy :3

Scary Zero Day HCs

Sometimes, Cal steals little things from Andre. He feels he gains a sense of control over Andre from it, knowing he has Andre’s stuff and is “close to him” when he’s not around, especially when he or Andre are out of town. He plays dumb whenever Andre asks Cal if he’s seen where his chain necklace went, or that old shirt of his he just can’t find anywhere. And yet Calvin puts on a small, believable smirk, teases him for losing such a belonging, and denies having seen it, all the while clutching whatever item he stole from him in his pocket. He rarely snatches clothing items, since it’d be hard to get away with that.

Not to say he hasn’t, of course, but he’s only stolen one of Andre’s shirts and a pair of sunglasses from him. Andre had to get new ones as a result. Cal doesn’t want to risk Andre catching him pulling off a shirt from his hanger in his closet, doesn’t want to amp up the anxiety he already faces from stealing something miniature. So, his go-tos are rings, necklaces, pencils, etc. Yet, he leaves Andre’s dog tag necklace alone— since their dog tags are a matching symbol of their unspoken suicide pact. And after Zero Day, when Cal’s parents were cleaning up his room and preparing to get rid of certain items of his, they discovered a small box in his closet stashed behind board games and old VHS tapes of him and Andre in middle school. This small box containing some of Andre’s goods, which Cal had carefully pocketed or shoved into his overnight bag when Andre was in the bathroom or not looking his direction.

Cal does like to watch Andre change, whether he’s aware or unaware of him watching. One time, Calvin took the camcorder and barged into Andre’s room while he was changing, having pretended he was in the bathroom, and he walked up to him, filming him half naked— he was only in boxers and socks, to be exact. But he didn’t stop recording, even though Andre quickly grew embarrassed and visibly pissed off and demanded for him to put the camcorder down. Since Cal was refusing, Andre pushed him out of his room within a couple seconds. And later, alone in his bedroom, Cal extracted the camcorder footage and put it on a more personal tape of his, if you catch my drift.

Cal shows very little emotion when someone, often Brad, provoke him into boiling with rage. Typically, he’s not a verbally explosive individual, because he’s more of like a quiet “I could kill you right now and nobody would find your dead body”. And it isn’t uncommon for him to resort to subtle antisocial behavior or outward violence. After all, if you poke the bear, he’ll wake up. For example, before he and Andre egged Brad’s house, Cal wanted to slash Brad’s tires or break a couple of his house windows or car windows. While Andre wanted to agree as well, he also knew he had to be rational and calm Cal down, since he knew they would both get arrested for vandalism if they followed through with that.

In addition, he harbors shallow empathy toward other people, especially those he isn’t close to. Though, due to his shy personality, many of his peers remain oblivious to this. Andre can tell how he cares so little even when something rare— like a medical emergency or an accident— happens to someone in public or to a peer at school. He just doesn’t care, and hypothetically, if he had to call the police for someone, he’d take his sweet ass time doing so. He’s not very sympathetic, he’s not panicky that their life may be at stake. Andre has to scold him and tells him to least pretend he cares so nobody grows suspicious of his indifference, for which Cal responds with, “But it’s hard since nobody is at our level, you know?”, which is basically Cal’s way of saying other people don’t matter, except him and his comrade, Andre.

Andre can go from 0 to 100 pretty fast. When he’s enraged, he’s enraged. It’s usually hard for him to calm down until he acts out and takes his anger out on an object… or someone. A few times in the past, he’s seriously punched Cal when they were fighting, but Cal always made it equal and punched him back. Andre has gotten into a few fights with Brad before, too, but he doesn’t win any fights against the guy. A student on the track team is not winning against the captain of the wrestling team. Sometimes he imagines himself pulling out a shotgun and blasting Brad’s brains to bits.

Andre and Cal are around each other so much that it feels like a part of Andre’s brain is missing when Calvin isn’t around. So the nights Cal is busy, for example with Rachel or his family, if he tells Andre where he’ll be gone, sometimes Andre will drive to the place Calvin is at and park a good distance away from the building so Cal doesn’t notice him following him. Andre doesn’t get out or anything, just sits in his car. He wants to make sure he’s okay, in his mind. He worries about Cal, after all. Too much, even. He needs to know he’s alright, because to Andre, “Anything can happen”. He only stalks Cal once in a while; he doesn’t do it all the time, because he knows how not-normal it is to do such a thing. Moreover, he doesn’t want Calvin to find out about him doing this.

Andre knows some areas in New Stratford where you could bury a body and get away with it, where it would truly never be found. His mother, with her maternal protectiveness toward her son, often mentioned the places where it would be best to hide dead bodies in town, referring to what she’d do if someone ever hurt Andre. Now, at the time, Andre didn’t really understand what she meant and he had no idea where these places were. But now, as an older teen, he knows, and he still keeps them in mind. But Andre doesn’t want to kill anyone yet— not until Zero Day. He knows he’d be too clumsy and anxious with handling a corpse. But for him, it’s still good information to mentally note.

Andre isn’t just fixated on the concept of violence within the military; he’s also focused on the sheer devastation, message, and the impact war leaves behind. That’s why, from what I could see, he was focused a little more on the aftermath of Zero Day in the film. He wanted to leave him and Cal’s mark behind, like the paths warfare leaves behind between countries. He even tried to mimic some army poses with his guns during the massacre. He wanted to “declare war” on him and Cal’s school during Zero Day and hopefully witness the effects of the planned tragedy after traveling cross-country to do the same to other schools. But obviously, this didn’t end up happening, as they cut their lives short during the shooting. However, he and his comrade still left a greater, more sorrowful influence than they anticipated, even in death.

[giuseppe-yuki]

pretty boy

warning: excessive curse words + mentions of murder/killings + ⚠️nikita mazepin warning⚠️

you never miss.

they could run, they could beg, hell, they could even fight, but it was always the same- one clean shot, and it’s like they never existed.

100% satisfaction rate, echoed many, and it was absolutely true.

your last target, some corrupt ceo? rumored to have gone into hiding by the public. (she was rotting in an acid-barrel in the woods)

the target before that, a notorious arms dealer? went incognito after a deal gone wrong. (he was probably at the bottom of the sea where you threw his body overboard)

not only that, you always worked alone. with two people, the margin of error was way too big, and you could never seem to trust another.

that’s probably why this mission was fucked the second your boss suggested a partner to “help assist.”

you had scoffed right in his face- some newbie hotshot named nikita who thought he had more than enough skills to pull off an operation. he sniffed right back and insisted that he was more than capable.

of course, when you arrived atop the rooftop, sniper aimed at the chest of some the millionaire’s son’s chest, your stupid coworker decided that it was time for him to shine.

before you could blink, the bullets from his gun lodged themselves into the leg of a socialite who was mingling innocently in the party below.

she screamed bloody murder, right then, blood flowing down her leg.

from your scope, you could see the rich folks running around like little ants as they panicked to get away from the hidden threat.

“what the fuck was that?” you snarl, whipping back to look at the kid cowering behind his sniper.

everything looked like it was going real dandy for him- starting off his first mission with a big fat 0% success rate.

“i-i- it was lined up! i swear!” nikita stutters out. “he was right in my line of fire!”

you look down below at the lady who was now getting dragged out of the scene by two burly security guards as the guests continue to run around in a panic. for a big event for rich billionaires, it sure did have some sucky security.

“well, obviously not,” you snap back. “this is why i don’t work with other people.”

police sirens fill the air before he can respond.

throwing your gear into your inconspicuous bag, you turn to him.

“since you’re so desperate to shine, go kidnap the targets and take him to the warehouse tonight. we will have to execute them there, thanks to your fuck-up.”

he gulps.

you weren’t going to lie. your partner did a pretty decent job at catching the targets. they were a bit bloodied and bruised for your taste, but here they were, tied and gagged on rusty metal chairs in the dark warehouse.

perhaps he was going to get a 100% success rate for his first job, after all.

the first few executions were pretty clean and fast. a shot to the temple for the security guard who saw too much, a neck snap for a shady investor associated with the targets, a garrote wire for the poor lady who was pulled into this.

it’s only when you pull the bag off of the fourth victim’s head, throwing knives in hand, when you really hesitate.

he’s different from your usual targets. he’s way too young, with big sad brown eyes and soft hair that flared every-which-way. a dribble of red leaks from his nose and drips onto his, no doubt, expensive suit.

you could tell that nikita saw your reluctance, because he steps forward towards you with one of his own silenced guns in hand.

”do you want me to do this one?” he asks, already cocking his gun.

instead, you ignore his last question.

”is this the right guy?” you question him. “the billionaire’s kid?”

you wouldn’t push it past your partner to kidnap the wrong target.

nikita nods aggressively.

“yes, yes, it is. now if you don’t want to kill him, can i?”

you hold back your snort. from the way this mission was going, he would probably accidentally shoot himself if he attempted to fire his gun.

”actually, i want you to wait outside,” you order firmly. “i’ll deal with this one.”

as soon as your imbecilic partner leaves the room, you gently ungag the boy in front of you.

to your surprise, he doesn’t plead, doesn’t beg, doesn’t spit insults at you like many of your targets before. instead, he blinks at you with his big brown eyes and doesn’t say a word.

how curious.

“what’s your name?” you probe, dragging the tip of one of your throwing knives lightly down his face- hard enough to break the skin, but not enough to bleed.

he answers infuriatingly calmly, like his name was an obvious fact.

lance.

it’s kind of pretty, like that legendary knight from the knights of the round table. he kind of looks like he could be one.

alas, you were sent to do one thing- eliminate him. so, you reach your arm up, metal knives glinting in the low light, ready to strike, while lance just closes his eyes and waits for the impact.

before it reaches his chest, you stop.

your hands itch to stab your knives straight into lance’s heart, like you were trained to do, but somehow you just can’t.

when he doesn’t feel the brutal tear of the sharp knives into his body, lance opens his eyes slowly and tilts his head at you.

”god-fucking-damn-it.” you sigh, leaning forward to slice off the restraints holding lance’s hands together. “you’re too pretty to kill.”

he stares at you, confused, before he gives you a light smile.

it looks out of place with the three cold, blood-covered bodies next to you and darkened atmosphere of the warehouse.

“i think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” he remarks in a hushed voice.

sliding your knives back into your holders, you respond with a small grin. from your pocket, you draw out the keys of one of your many stolen cars. a green aston martin db11. tossing it to him, you warn him.

“get far away from here, lance. even though i would love to meet you again, i really i hope i don’t- especially in these circumstances.”

he nods, before dashing through the door.

you watch him go.

maybe a 99% success rate was worth it- for him.

[glacierclear]

How did you end up liking Episode 3 of Before the Storm? :D I watched a bit of the stream but had to go early on.

IT WAS SO GOOD. i feel like, looking back, the pacing and structure maybe could use a bit of fine tuning, but overall i loved the ride. i can't really say i'm a good objective perspective here. i'm just so emotional about everything that happened hsdhhsdf

the fucking eliot crashout kinda came out of nowhere, i feel. like there were kind of bits and pieces here and there of him being unhinged, but it went from 0-100 real fucking fast. great tension tho. had me pissing myself.

the scope of the story is obviously much smaller than lis1, and i was scared that would mean it left less of an impact, but it was still a wild ride. they definitely crammed a LOT into the last episode tho, it felt like so much was happening.

bonus episode: farewell also fucking destroyed me. was it worth $9??? no. but damn im glad i played.

i feel like before the storm provides a loooot of context for lis1, some that i was not expecting. makes a lot of sense why chloe would search for rachel for MONTHS AND MONTHS, and why she was so freaking dedicated to pursuing the search with max, even to the point of doing illegal shit (although, this is chloe, she didn't have major regard for the law to begin with)

idk, this is kind of me dumping my thoughts all willy nilly, i'll have more time to sort everything im feeling later on, but yes. i liked it a lot. even if it was made by decknine.

[softer-ua]

I love that Deku is this intense over thinker who still only ever makes decisions based on vibes 💀

Like he could get stuck spinning his wheels forever if you let him start spouting about theory, but almost none of it is ever introspective 😭

He’s known to get so deep in thought that it scares people, but the best his top introspective deductions were “legs” and “microwave egg”

Bakugo has to spell everything out for him, like Deku was BAFFLED BEWILDERED AND BEFUDDLED to find out Bakugo felt looked down on

And like I get that shit went from 0-100 real quick so he was stuck on his back foot just reacting to the hits from basically BlackWhip developing on, life was coming at him insanely fast

And having other characters give their insight for him to build on is narratively useful, but it makes it seem like all his introspection comes from these flashbulb moments

Dekus mind is free floating through the wind just waiting for an idea to crash into him, his consciousness is untethered and unaware until it’s the pivotal moment and time to lock in

[d1s1ntegrated]

hiiiii!!

so this feels kind of random and maybe a little ooc but i keep imagining shiggy as like a streamer (playing obviously league of legends but also like valorant, overwatch, fortnite, etc etc)

but could i possibly get some streamer shigaraki hcs pls and thank youu ♡

also i saw your post about emoji anons and id like to formally request that i can claim this emoji; 🧸 thank you for all your amazingly handcrafted beautiful posts!!!

ooouuuu yassss. i also love to hc shiggy as a streamer idc if its ooc!

also yes ofc ! 🧸is all urs bby <3

streamer!shigaraki hcs ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋ

[■■■■■■■■■□] 90%

it started as a joke, he didnt think anyone would really watch

but followers and viewers SKYROCKETED so fast, he was kinda overwhelmed at first

mostly streams LoL, but loves switching between diff games throught the stream (OVW, apex, valorant, fortnite)

but for some reason, he hates COD. HATES IT. if chat even mentions it he screams

he gets banned regularly for "random shit" aka trying to beef with the 12 year old's in chat, accidentally smoking on cam, etc

has absolutely no filter, just plays the game the same way he would if he were alone, which gives him one hell of a reputation online

chat goes WILD when he ties his hair back, cause usually its in his face

does a lot of 12-24 hour streams bc he cant sleep

streams at the most random and inconvenient times, like 4pm or 3am.

that being said he has no set schedule. he usually just hops online whenever.

loves bantering with chat, he thinks its so funny

"blueflame says... "this man needs chapstick lolz"

"well fuck you blueflame, you need a loving family and some bitches, but i guess both of us are fucked, hm?"

went through a huge minecraft phase and ended up creating a small cult following from it

which he abhors. like fucking hates it bc of all the drama in the minecraft community-he doesn't like to be associated with them.

calls his fans rats/bugs/etc.

goes on long-ass adhd rambles about random shit a LOT

"chat, chat watch this, gonna get this fucker"

*dies*

"chat. i am going to scream."

this man has 0 social awareness or media etiquette

like he's actually disgusting on stream it can be a hard watch at times. especially if he's eating cause he doesnt gaf about being "polite"

listens to a lot of hyperpop/metal/game osts in the background but has gotten in trouble for copyright lol

does dumbass dances in his chair if he wins a round

when everyone realized he wore gloves to game, he got sent a BUNCH of new ones, with different patterns and materials (he shows them all off) (his fav ones are the creeper-themed ones tho :3)

has "horror nights" where he'll stay up and play shit like fnaf, slender, closing shift, and other indie horror games

he played facade once but immediately removed the game from his pc (very dramatically) after trip denied his request to "kiss it sloppy style".

chat regularly begs him to play roblox but he always ignores it

even though he HAS it downloaded.

"chat what the fuck is skibidi ohio"

always drinking some form of energy drink no matter what time it is

"someone in chat said im cute. go touch grass"

has a discord server that he does in fact own and mod. but only lets certain people join (he does have a tier system after a while)

[■■■■■■■■■] 100%

ugh gamer streamer shiggy is so Real to me...and so cute...i need him viciously

thank u for the request, 🧸!

[jeonscatalyst]

https://x.com/my2seaotters/status/1893034109129081002?s=46

what can of stupid reasoning is this? 😭 he could have just not sat down if that was the case. I hate jikookers accusing tae of fs when jk is out there doing that lol like if what tae is doing is wrong/fs then what is jk doing?

Do you know who I blame?

I blame the people arguing that Jungkook sitting on a member’s lap is fanservice (you).

I blame the people arguing that Jungkook sitting on a member’s lap is a “moment” (the cult).

I blame the people coming up with stupid excuses as to why Jungkook sat on a member’s lap (that Joker).

And I blame myself for dignifying this ask with a response.

You could have easily made your point without trying to imply that Jungkook sitting on Taehyung’s lap was fanservice or that it meant anything more than him just wanting to sit there. There is nothing I hate more than people who are incapable of seeing the members being physically affectionate with each other without linking it to fanservice. That is incredibly insulting to the members and the genuine bond they all have with each other.

I am not here to police anybody on their perception of things and I am not mummy you should run crying to when someone says something you don’t like so next time, anon, send this ask to that Joker who made the post…not my blog. Especially if you’re going to imply that Jungkook is doing something wrong or engaging in fanservice just because he sat on a member’s lap.

No, Taehyung wasn’t doing fanservice just because he wanted Jungkook to give him a bottle of water.

And no, Jungkook wasn’t doing fanservice when he sat on Taehyung’s legs.

And just in case you’re wondering why all this went from 0 to 100 so fast….this is the part of your ask that ticked me off:

“I hate Jikookers accusing Tae of FS when JK is out there doing that lol.”

What do you mean by “when JK is out there doing that?”

What exactly is Jungkook doing, Anon?

[moredorkysj]

My Hero Academia OC

Note: my oc's story is not meant to be set in the canon story of mha, it's more of an alternate universe.

She's no pro hero, nor a vigilante. She is a regular citizen with a complicated quirk and a natural instinct with protecting the weak. She calls these attributes a curse, because it just causes a lot of problems for her.

Quirk: "Werewolf", mutant type.

She has a similar behavior with the animals of canis genus, has an advance sense of smell and sense of hearing, high bite force, nails that naturally grows pointy. She's also greatly physically capable, impressively strong och fast, high stamina and her wounds heal faster than average.

Her werewolf transformation gets triggered by the increase of her adrenaline, and the more she transform the more aggressive and impulsive she becomes. Her hair raises hackle, she grows fur on her body, grows a tail, immense bite force, more powerful claws and paw pads. Her physical powers also increases and her body healing ability becomes faster and she can heal lose limbs as long they are placed back together.

Weakness:

Her quirk might appear OP, but she has some weakness too. For example: 0% might be impressively capable, but she's weaker and slower than her 10-100% forms. Advance sense of hearing and smell can also be quite a hassle when it comes to very loud sounds and strong smells. The werewolf transformation is also tremendously physically and mentally exhausting, which makes her body collapse when she re-transforms and the 70-100% forms often causes amnesia, which makes her not remembering what happened during it.

Her collar she has around her neck, is also a somewhat of weakness. Its durability is limitless and can be used against her to maneuver her. As long as she doesn't caught whatever is catching her with her strong jaws. (She has been wearing that collar since she was 5 years old)

Info about her:

Name: Toboe Soichi

Alias: The Werewolf, Wolf, Pup (She didn't choose any of these alias, it's what she's called by people because of her quirk. Her daily 0% form isn't recognized by those alias)

Gender: Female (she, her, they, them)

Age: 30's

Height: 173 - 178cm (5'8 - 5'10)

Eye color: kyanite-blue & deep-yellow

Hair color: Dark chestnut

Occupation: Part time florist assistant

Soichi was born in Nagano Prefecture, her father was one of Japan's top heroes and he died 5 month before her birth. She was raised by her mother and with some help from her aunt (mother's sister). Soichi was born with some of her quirks attributes, but the werewolf transformation took form at the age of 4 and it was quite different than it is today. Her transformation turned straight from 0 to 100%, and the first impression of her new quirk was a disaster, biting off the finger of a kindergarten teacher, and that wouldn't be the last time her quirk caused chaos.

Soichi's childhood was difficult because of her quirk, she struggled to get friends, she was harassed by other children's parents and so did her neighbors, because they were scared of her werewolf form. Soichi's mother was however doing everything she could to keep her safe and loved, and so did the rest of the family. At the age of 9, her and the family moved to Yamanashi Prefecture to try and start a life with less harassment and it fortunately went for the better. However, this is also the chapter in her life when she starts to do heroic things.

In her early 20's she gets in trouble with the law after an altercation with a A rank villain and a misunderstanding fight with the top hero All Might. Soichi gets charged for vigilantism and violence against pro hero, and she gets brought to trial. Soichi's mother begs All Might to help Soichi from getting into prison and she explains her quirk's complication and that she's actually a good person. All Might being the hero that he is decides to meet Soichi himself to get his own impression of her, and when that time came he was surprised by her 0% form, she was a completely different person compare to the one who he fought. She was polite and shy, but most notable was her righteousness and sense of responsibility. Telling him that she deserve to go to prison for attacking him, even if she rather not. This and the fact that Soichi fought the villain to protect people, made All Might realize that she doesn't deserve prison time at all, this also makes him decide to defend her when he attends to the trail as a witness.

During the trial, the judges sympathizes a bit for Soichi's quirk complications, but what really made them recognize her was All Might's input on the situation, and they finally decides to judge her as not guilty. However, this is where Soichi gets labeled as a "risk of violent behavior" at the police registration, which means that the law will have a firm eye on her.

A year after the trial, Soichi gets in contact with a psychotherapist from northern Europe, that works with people who struggles with similar quirk complications as herself. He helps her to learn to better control her negative emotions and a safer way to protect herself and others. After 4 years of this, she grows a lot as a person and she's able to slow down her transformation. Her 100% becomes rare and her 0-60% are a lot more common.

Soichi has no interest in the hero life style, she just want to live a normal life and only protect her family and the few friend she has, but she can't avoid her instinct with helping those who happens to be in danger close by. She tries to avoid the police and most pro heroes. But the law isn't the only problem, so are villains that goes against her and those who recognize the similarity she has with her father.

Inspirations for Soichi and her story:

MHA(obviously), Mob Psycho 100, One Punch Man, Devilman, Invincible, DCUA, Beastars, Naruto and much more.

There is a lot more to Soichi’s story, but I think this should be enough as a preview

---

Pardon for any bad grammar, English isn't my first language and I was a bit tired when I wrote this ^^'

[skylar-325]

Omniscient Readers Viewpoint Read Through

Chapter 1-10

>I adore this line

>being able to read kdj's thoughts in the first person makes the story so much more intense. like understanding his subconscionce helps me gain a better grasp on just how apethetic and yet selectively caring he can be. like reading the webtoon it felt like it went from 0 to 100 pretty fast and kdj acclimated so well because he knew the story before hand. but reading the story and having greater insight on his personality from the start shows how different he was and how it contributed to his eventual scheming through the scenarios. (i really hope i’m making sense cuz words aren’t wording today)

>the way i freak out when this happens to me on AO3, Dokja stronger than me fr

>GILYOUNG WAS WITH HIS MOM? did they mention that in the webtoon? i had no idea omg so does that mean he saw his mom go poof? and kdj gave him the insect but not to his mom so he likely lived knowing he could’ve given the insect to his mom? oh my god this is fucking with my head

>kdj sure was a different breed from the start 💀

>famous last words

> ….ok (sorry my humour is juvenile T-T)

>kdj said ☝️🤓

>OH MY GOD so Gilyoung’s mother abandoned him to join in the beat down of the grandma???? and the poor bby saw all that? damn

>i just realised, the first four constellations to take interest in kdj have played such important roles as the story progresses. like idk if this is obvious to ppl but Abysmal black flame dragon being hsy’s constellation, demon like judge of fire being our yaoi queen, prisoner of golden headband’s role when kdj became a constellation feels strangely nostalgic now. like they stayed by his side this whole time. yet to see what secretive plotter will do tho, according to the webtoon they’re definitely suspicious.

>oh they changed bastard to punk in the webtoon loll. can i expect more cursing cuz i need kdj to curse more XD

>*sigh* high schoolers

>UNPROVOKED?

>damn bihyung shut up 😭

>he’s hereeee 💃

>a ‘rugged hand’? not kdj simping over yjh’s HAND? kdj freak confirmed

—

That was fun! Pretty similar to the webtoon but there were so many little nuances I hadn’t seen before and it was an interesting new perspective on the characters. Can’t wait to read ahead!

Next: Ch 11-20

[ubesam]

DOGDAY X READER

PART 4

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Summative: After you have arrived home. You can feel your face heat up thinking about him. But as you were walking to your bed, you tripped over something making your head the hard wooden floor. Well, everything be alright? What's going to happen?

Warning: coma, Curse words, worried puppy, Happy family, rush asap, ???

Romance: 7/10

Fluff: 100/10

Platonic: ?/10

Smut: 0/10

Note from Author: I got some ideas from my bestie from discord. And then my discord acc password was reset by someone for some reason... So... I can't log back in anymore.. I miss my bestie:( I hope she sees this...

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

After encountering the kissing situation back at playtime co. You slammed the door of your apartment but it was not too loud to wake your neighbours. You slide down the back of the door as you wrap your arms around your knees. With sigh, you can still feel the heat of your face just.. thinking about him.

"God... I'm such a mess right now..." You mumbled silently. You just stood up and started walking towards your bedroom and head to bed.

You walk towards your bed but only to trip over something and fall, causing your head to hit the hard wooden floor. Everything went black... Blood flowing through the wooden floor as you laid there unconscious. The only thing that you heard was someone shouting and screaming your name, you barely hear it. It sounded like you were under water, but you know that you weren't.

It has been two weeks since your incident. You fell from a coma for two weeks unknowingly. Your parents are right by your hospital bed, your mother holding your hand... Pure worry was only you can tell feeling your mother's touch. But not a while when you decide to open your eyes, lights glimmer down on you. You look to the side to see your mother still holding your hand, your father who was fast asleep hm.. he's still the same old man, huh? You thought to yourself.

Seeing your mother holding your hand tightly. You decided to speak up, your voice was weak due to your dried up throat.

"Mom?" Your voice sounded like a grown old woman but you didn't care much.

Upon hearing your voice. Your mother flinched and lifted her head immediately to look at you. You smiled as your mom began to tear up.

"My sweet baby girl!!!" She cried out hugging you instantly. Upon she screamed, your father flinched up awake from his slumber and looked towards the noise just to see you and your mother squeezing you tightly.

Your father sighed in relief upon seeing you finally awake from your coma. A smile was curled up to his face, as he went towards your mother to pull her away from you, so you won't have a difficulty breathing. Your mother who was worried sick and over protective of you continued to cry seeing her sweet baby girl awake from her coma.

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

~TWO WEEKS AGO~

Dogday being a good dog, waited for his angel to come in through her office door. He wants to tease his angel about what happened yesterday. Yet, He waited there from 5:00 Am to 6:00 Am, Yet no sign of you coming in. He sighed and waited a bit longer, yet you didn't come. Here he was worried sick about you.

It was time to open the playcare. Yet no sign of you. Dogday got more worried and decided to ask one of your friends, he then soon found out that you fell into a coma. Aw, the poor puppy is getting worried. He sighed as he continued his daily tasks without you, but he tried his best to smile towards others so he could hide the sadness inside him. He was worried about a bit too much, he began to overthink lately. One of his friends saw this and asked if he was alright. The only reply that came out of his mouth was, "Oh! It's nothing necessary!" He replies with the same sentence to all of them except for catnap.

A week without his angel, made him miss you more! He misses your smile, your eyes, your sound of laughter, and your face. It made him even sadder day by day! Yet he tries to smile bright like the sun for the children and the others. Having a hard time dealing with his depression but he pretends that he was fine. But shit! It was for two goddamn weeks! He would sleep in your office every night! And it made the other critters worry about him more!

The poor puppy is worried sick about you!

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After a day of you getting checked up just in case. You were finally out of the hospital and of course! Your mother starts rambling lectures about you to be more careful. But fuck! You were a twenty two year old lady and yet getting lectures from your mother at this age?! Oh, ho! ho! ho! Nope! You weren't having it!

"Mom.. I'm not your little girl anymore! Look! I'm twenty two years old! TWENTY TWO!"

Your mom's pov: A sweet innocent 5 year old child version of angel In front of her.

"That's practically an adult! But you still treat me like I'm a little kid!" You huffed out.

Your mother couldn't help but sigh with tears in her eyes.

"I can't believe children grow up too fast.." your mom sniffled and wiped her tears around the corner of her eyes.

Your dad sighs and just nodded at your mom that she had to let you go. Your mother inhaled some deep air and exhaled looking at you with her gaze.

"Fine.. But will you promise to be more careful? I don't want to lose my baby girl." Your mom tries to hold her tears because just seeing you in front of her makes her proud because she raises such a wonderful daughter.

You sighed and nodded and gave your parents a huge hug. Your parents returned the hug and kissed your forehead. You rode a taxi and waved goodbye to your parents as your taxi set off. "I should probably get ready for work... Wait... Work! Oh my lord! I forgot about dogday! Shit! Shit! Shit! I hope he's not mad at me!!" You thought to yourself as your driver finally stopped at your destination. You gave him a tip and ran to your building and to your apartment door and hurriedly got changed to get back to work once for all.

You rode your motorbike and drove. You quickly got in the elevator or smth idk. And finally rushed to your office door. You sighed as you slowly turned the door knob making dogday raises his head from the couch and his gaze towards the door, You came in with a big sigh. Dogday's eyes widened as his tail wags.

"Angel!" He shouted as he got up and ran to you. He holds you by the waist and lifts you up in the air, seeing his happy smile you couldn't help but smile. "I guess.. he did miss me.." you thought to yourself.

"I'm sorry for.. making you worried.." you apologise as an intense awkwardness lingers in the air.

It was silent for a moment... You then hear sniffles coming from dogday, you look down to see him tearing up. Your eyes widened "did he really worry about me a bit too much?"

You thought to yourself.

Dogday then hugged you to his chest as he began to breakdown. You couldn't help but smile seeing him make you smile. You patted his back and started to hum a song, he continued to whimper while crying. You wiped his tears away and gave a kiss on the forehead as you hummed a song.

One hour passed by. You and dogday fell asleep in each of your embraces, hearing dogday's soothing snores as his chest rises and lowers. Hearing his heartbeat as you slept peacefully, nuzzling your head to his chest fur getting comfortable. Your office was filled in silence only yours and dogday's breathing filled the room.

Both of you were sleeping peacefully. Till dogday heard a knock on the door. You were still asleep on his arms snuggling your head against his chest, he couldn't help but blush slightly at you. He slowly got up and put you on the couch as he walked towards your office door to see who was knocking.

He opened the door to see all of his friends standing in front of him with a concerned look on their faces. Dogday tilted his head a little in confusion, till Bobby handed up a basket with food and flowers and a happy smiling card. His eyes widened and then turned his gaze to his friends. I guess he was so gloomy lately that it made his friends worry about him.

He smiled but then his eyes landed on catnap at the back. Looks like he was worried too.

"What's all this?" He asked with a light chuckle.

"You've been down and gloomy lately, dude!" Kickin said as he rested his arm on dogday's shoulder.

"Catnap has to tell us the real reason why you were all so gloomy! But we didn't think that you would have a heart for an angel~" bobby smirked. She smells love in the air.

"Catnap told you guys?" Dogday asked.

"Duh! Sugar cube! He was also worried about you! So he told all of us about the reason for your sudden depression!" Picky piggy stands next to dogday munching on an apple.

Dogday's eyes were wide in surprise as he saw catnap not meeting his gaze and just looked down on the floor embarrassed. His best friend was worried about him? Ain't that cute!

Dogday walks towards catnap. Catnap looked towards dogday as he was suddenly pulled into an embrace. Catnap was still adjusting but he gave in and hugged dogday back. The others followed behind them and pulled in a big group hug. What a happy family<3

"Well, well, well! What a cute family of friends!" You chuckled behind them as you leaned on the door frame of your office.

The critters turned around to you, they saw you chuckling leaning on the door frame.

"Angel? You're awake!" Dogday said with a happy doggy smile.

"I never slept! I just pretend to sleep just to wait for this family of friends to get into a big family hug!" You chuckled.

They all laughed together with you. Dogday finally feels his sunny happy beam from his heart seeing all of his loving Friends laughing and being happy. He just wishes this moment of life will last forever feeling the happiness.

...

You... your poppy's Angel...

...

Angel...

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Note from Author: My classmates sided eye me while doing this and then complimented me about how good my English was. But I said nah it looks shit. Well that's all, hope you all enjoyed the food💅✨