#🐆🐆

[dumbandfunn]

Rafe shoving his fingers in readers mouth when she starts to ramble too much…

(Rafe come rn)

rafe knew you talked a lot when you were nervous, but he underestimated just how much when he took you to drinks with his friends at the country club. they never didn’t make you feel welcome, but they were all loud— a lot louder than anyone that you usually surrounded yourself with, so often times you felt you had to fill the lingering silences that came with boyish days out when they were just trying to watch the game.

you had been talking for five whole minutes without anyone getting a word in— your hands were waving frantically and you were looking between topper and kelce wide eyed, basically out of breath from all the rambling about something they couldn’t even keep up with. topper thought it was about some girly gossip show you were watching, but then you were suddenly talking about how your dog was blind in one eye.

frankly, nobody was keeping up— everyone had zoned out, rafe only really started paying attention again when you mentioned a phil dunphy. he made a mental note to deal with him later. maybe ask barry if he was from around the area. but for now he was giving you a small eyebrow raise, reaching his free hand up to squeeze your cheeks, shoving two fingers right between your parted lips, cutting your ramble off.

“why don’t we let someone else speak now baby hm?”

nodding his head slightly toward his two friends, whos attention were definitely caught at the how you immediately nodded up at him, eyes wide and mumbling a muffled “sorry,” just as he pressed his two fingers against your tongue.

he just didn’t actually expect you to reach up and catch his wrist when he tried to move his hand away just to keep your tongue swirling around his ringed fingers. his friends got multiple threats after that for becoming a lot more interested in what you had to say. and you for sure got a telling off by rafe with a “you like putting on a show like that for my degenerate friends? huh?” when you got home.

[strawb3rrystar]

the same HH and HB boys with a s/o that murdered a person who was after them, brutally? Like, the boys can barely distinguish the person's face from how much rage their s/o took at 'em, blood n shit everywhere. Love me, a crazy person who would kill someone 4 me 🤑🤑‼️ for example, sumn like the situation that Stolas has Stella, she's always after him. And their hysteric lil s/o drags them to the corpse and is just there grinning proudly and shit like they didn't rescind a mf's body. I feel like Blitz would be so moved "omg🥹🥺" give his s/o headpats and shit but idk again, you're best at writin' about him, love youuu! -🐆

My insides are red, and yours are too.

Pairing: Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Alastor, Lucifer Morningstar, Blitzø, Stolas x GN! Reader

Warnings: Violence, talks of murder

Word count: 425

✰HH Masterlist | HB Masterlist

Angel Dust will be more or less freaked out. Like, he's seen dead sinners before, but he didn't think you were capable of murder. Basically, you killed someone at one of the clubs you frequent who made him uncomfortable. Even though he gets freaked out at first, he finds it very sweet that you killed someone to protect him, and not just for fun.

Husk is surprised at first when you show him the body. Like Angel, he didn't think you were capable of murder. Though he warms up to the idea eventually, it's Hell, you're going to need to defend yourself. I'm not sure who you would have killed for him. Maybe someone he lost to in the past?

Sir Pentious is completely shocked that you murdered someone for him. He knew you were capable of fighting since you've fought alongside him before, but he's never seen you so excited about it. He must admit, he finds your enthusiasm to be quite charming. Wants to hear you rant about every detail of the body and how you planned it of course.

Alastor isn't surprised in the slightest. In fact, he loves the fact you killed someone for him. It proves your loyalty. You probably murdered one of his enemies/someone who hates him. Which is a lot to choose from. He finds your joy of killing to be quite similar to his, and he finds it endearing.

Lucifer is now terrified of you. He knows he's stronger than you in every way being the King of Hell, but he can still get scared. He's mostly scared of the look on your face after it happened. Seeing that face in thousands of sinners, he never thought that you would get that look too. And, you know, it scares him because he kinda feels like he's losing you a little bit.

Blitzø is also ecstatic about you murdering someone. He's never seen you do something so badass and he loved the little show you put on for him. Is very supportive, hyping you up and everything. Either thinks you're his best employee or wants to marry you. And there is an in between. It's both!

Stolas will be quite alarmed that you killed someone for him. He's ever grateful however, considering that he's constantly trying to be assassinated. If you killed Stella, first of, what the fuck?? Secondly, he didn't think anyone would actually kill her. Probably helps you make it look like an accident or blame it on someone else so you don't get in trouble.

Star's notes -> The other day my friend and I played 'Phobics' on roblox. Turns out I have a fear of mannequins and being chased lol. We also played Doors and got jumpscared so bad (I hate loud noises)

(Thank you, 🐆 anon, for requesting!) (Requests are open!)

Taglist -> @alexandria-fandom @corruptcoder @perfectlycraftychaos @stressedbleach @ghostdoodlen

@roboticsuccubus83 @marenelili @mollzaj @sunshines-bright @t0uchst4rv3d

@saints-wrapped-in-plastic @sweetadonisbutbetter @little-miss-chaoss @sunr1s3-strab3rr1 @naathanuwu

@solicitedfreakiness @sugarplumz100 @hazbinhappy @facelessfionna | Join the taglist

[rubiehart]

INTRODUCING… LEOPARD!READER!

just because she’s a pogue doesn’t mean she can’t be the coolest chick in the obx. chunky gold earrings, leopard print everything, jeans that don’t fit her, black lace, dark red nails, whether it be acrylics she saved up for or just polish.

she’s constantly using her pretty privilege to get her way, big dilated eyes and slow flirty blinks to reel in unsuspecting tourons at keggers before pocketing their wallets.

of course her unexpected fast pace and insanely high stamina keeping things interesting when nobody can keep up with her after stealing whatever shit the pogues need. she’s a natural at jumping over fences, walls, whatever.

she’s got very quick temper, gritting her sharp canines a little too hard if someone says something about someone she loves, dropping her chill girl persona, fighting dirty n not stopping till she’s physically ripped away, then fighting whoever pulled her off.

massive oral fixation, sinking her teeth into anything on instinct, pretty much always chewing on her necklaces, knawing on her acrylics, or leaving indents in her man’s arm, he loves it really.

animal lover, given names to all the local stray cats and dogs and tries to feed ‘em every day, they all know where to go.

when you pass her house on certain morning she’s outside with all the forgotten strays, kneeling as she feeds them scraps of meat and it’s probably the happiest she’s ever looked.

which boy would she be most compatible with?

[thegnomelord]

If you're up to it, I would like to request FtM reader x dragon Price, reader can be dom or sub I just need more FtM things in life besides myself😞😞 -🐆

Sure, I wasn't in the mood for porn so have some fluff. fair warning I'm not all that confident writing FTM reader so ya'll tell me if this sucks lol

CW: SFW, gender dysphoria, fluff, non sexual nudity, cuddling, scar kissing

Most day are good for you. Most days you're able to get out of bed and go about your day to day duties with confidence.

Not today.

You wake before your alarm with an unpleasant feeling in your gut, tossing and turning for an hour in hopes of falling asleep but it's useless. The morning chill only amplifies the horrid sensation — your skin doesn't feel like your own, your body doesn't feel your own. It's like roaches are crawling beneath your skin, thousands of toothpicks stabbing your nerves every time the cotton of your boxers brushes against your flawed flesh. Old words of people you once considered friends ring in your head like church bells: You're not a real man, you'll never be.

All you are, is a badly made replica in the approximation of what you want to be.

Your bones feel like they're lined with lead, every cell in your body begging you to stay under the covers in the darkness of your room for however long it takes for this feeling to go away. But the sharp ringing of the alarm forces you to rise against your wishes. You don't look at yourself when you shower, but the small glimpse of skin you catch in the mirror makes bile burn the back of your throat. Usually you're proud of your torso and the muscles you've built, but all you can think now as you put on the tight fitting army shirt is how wrong it looks on you. You try to pull on the front a couple of times in an attempt to make it baggier around your chest, before just putting on a jacket regardless that it's the middle of summer.

Recruit duty makes a bad day even worse, adding a headache alongside the discomfort and anxiety that straddle your brain. You hate how snappy and agitated you are with them, running them through grueling drills until they regret being born and have probably called you every name under the sun in their heads. The all collapse when you're finally finished with them, stepping away from them. The day's heat made you sweat like a pig, another round of bile burning the back of your throat at how your clothes stick to you.

You flinch back when a hand grabs your shoulder, quickly whirling around to look who it is with a sharp retort burning on your tongue, only to fizzle out when you're met with Price's face.

Your name sounds so right when he says it, the scent of tobacco curling in your nose as he steps closer to you, wing stretching out to subtly hang over you. "What's going on lad?" Price asks, his voice low, like taking a sip of cool water.

The question makes you hesitate, unable to meet his gaze so you fixate on counting the little chips in the concrete floor. "Just one of those days." You grunt, your voice hoarse and scratchy from belting orders all day.

Price hums in thought and then you feel his wing bump against your back, "Follow me soldier." The deep timber of his voice silences some of the dark thoughts crooning in your ears, and you're helpless to do anything but follow after him like a lost lamb. He leads you back to his room (that you haunt most nights), the place blessedly cool and dark compared to the heat outside.

The second the door closes and locks he pulls you in close, wrapping his steady arms around you and pushing your face into the pillowy bosom of his pecs. You struggle for a moment out of pure instinct, but a single call of your name makes you stop like a puppet on cut strings. He repeats your name like a caress, rolling every syllable on his tongue as his chest rumbles with a deep purr.

You melt into him, nuzzling your nose into the deep valley of his pecs and breathing in his smell. He's more intoxicating than any drug you know; beneath the scents of tobacco, dark coffee, and manly musk there's always something that your mind associates with freshly cut grass and rain on dry gravel — Comfort.

"You're so smart and clever." He croons, resting his chin on top of yours, one hand tracing the curve of your back. "But by god are you a dumb muppet." There's no edge to his words, you don't even think of fighting his admonishments. "How many times have I told you to come to me if you feel like this?"

Too many times, to be honest. You're stubborn if nothing else, you always think you can handle this on your own, you don't want to burden him whenever your mind decides to be a dick to you. "I'm sorry." You mumble into his shirt, your hands slowly wrapping around his thick waist. It always does your head in how your fingers can't quite meet in the middle of his back with how broad he is, muscle and fat shifting beneath your hands.

"Sure you are." He tuts, evidently not believing you for a second. But he doesn't pull away, tail loosely wrapping around your leg and his scent and heat enveloping you, his chest vibrating against your face. "Going to let me take care of my boy, aren't you?" The way he phrases it makes it sound like a statement, and you're unable to resist it.

Your mouth goes dry, your body stuck between wanting more and abhorring any more physical contact. But you nod your head, grumbling something probably nonsensical. And any other day you'd laugh your ass off about the fact you're practically motorboating him, but not today. Today you barely have any energy left to think.

"That's my boy." He purrs, clawed fingers gently scratching your scalp. "Shower?" He asks.

You pause, trying to string together a tangible thought. You doubt you could handle that, not with how dark and heavy your head feels. "No." You croak and nuzzle further into his chest in an attempt to hide.

"S'alright, I'm proud of you." He hums, still holding you close as he shuffles across the room with you blindly following him. "Let's get you out of those sweaty clothes, yeah?" Getting a single nod from you, he starts to slowly take off your clothes, pulling back just enough to distract you with sweet kisses. You try to help in taking his clothes off, but you feel about as useful as a small child helping his parents cook, getting a few chuckles from him.

You wind up gently pushed down on your back, spread across his bed that smells just like him and naked as the day you were born. Before the discomfort can make you shy away and try to cover yourself, he's settling down next to you, claws scraping against your jaw as he pulls you into a slow kiss. You swear you can always taste a bit of eternity every time he kisses you, so unhurried like you'll last as long as him.

"Look at you." He hums as you part, his hands sliding down your shoulders and arms to your hips. "My handsome boy." He tilts his head to kiss all over your face, trailing his lips from your brows to your eyelids, cheeks, nose, chin to wherever else he can reach. His beard is soft against your skin, evidently he'd used that beard care product you'd given him. "So strong and capable. My strong knight."

That gets the first vestige of a chuckle out of you. "Does that mean I get to lay the dragon?" You ask, your lips tugging into a small smirk. You've made that joke god knows how many times, but despite his gripes, Price loves it.

"Cheeky wanker." He huffs, his cool clawed fingers trailing along the curve of your muscles up your torso. "Later, if you're good."

A low sound escapes you when his thumbs brush the even scars beneath your pecs. "Good?" He asks, waiting for you to nod before tilting his head down, horns gently poking your skin for a second before he starts kissing along your scars. His touch is gentle like you're a precious treasure in his hoard, his lips velvet soft against the rough scar tissue. Every brush of his lips makes your skin tingle like a live wire, fire simmering in the place he kisses as he trails from one side to the other, laying equal attention on every inch of your scars.

It's pleasant. Beyond pleasant. It leaves your chest feeling so warm and full like your heart will burst through your ribcage.

You feel like a melted puddle of goo by the time he pulls away to kiss you on the lips again. You don't struggle as he lays down on his side and pulls you to him. A pleased sigh escapes you as you feel his wing drape over you like a blanket, tail curling around one of your legs and arms wrapping around your waist; like he's making sure you can't escape (not that you'd want to.)

Dragons are strange, the scales cool against your skin but his core is hot like a furnace, the duality of it calming your mind. "How are you feeling lad?" He asks, the low timber of his voice vibrating his chest.

You hum and nuzzle into his pecs, the ample chest hair tickling your face. "Better." You grunt, blindly kissing what inch of flesh you can reach. You can't keep your hands from wandering, petting the dark hair of his happy trail as your other hand traces the scales on his side. "Could feel better with a bit more attention though."

A snort leaves him, his breath ghosting over your ear. "You're insatiable." His words would be a lot more insulting if his chest didn't vibrate with a continuous purr, his tail tightening for a second before relaxing.

"You're to blame." You feel better as the words leave you, your chest light as a feather as you get to share a small laugh with him.

"Get some rest, my boy," You hum, your eyelids already starting to feel heavy as you feel him nuzzle his cheek into your hair. You don't doubt the whole base will be able to smell him on you tomorrow. "We'll see about laying dragons later."

"I love you." You murmur into his flesh, his pecs becoming the world's best pillow as you nuzzle closer. You stay awake just long enough to hear him murmur his love for you in your ear.

[babyangelthings]

[sunniewr]

⠞﹫⠀⠀ˋ⠀⠀🦀⠀⠀˳˳˳⠀⠀➈⠀⠀⠀𝅥𝄰˻⠀⠀🌽⠀⠀🌊⠀ ⠫

(_⠀⠀☀️⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀좋은⠀⠀!⠀⠀𔗶⠀⠀□𝆝̸ㅤ⠀😿⠀⠀꯭⭒꯭

⠀꯭⭒⠀⠀⬚͒O1:O1⠀⠀❀ᮬׁ࣮⠀⠀⭐️⠀⠀ᬺᬺᬸ ᭮᭰͟⠀⠀🐬⠀⠀⠀꯭❀͟︎̼͟͟⠀꯭

[savagethebaddiexo]

Ayisha Diaz • 🐆💦

[canniballand]

[misc-obeyme]

Hello hello Would you be offended if I say Oya instead of hello? I want to ask for a drabble of a daredevil, petit mc who rides a motorcycle through the devildom every night, wearing the same outfit of Celty from Durarara. One night finally Satan have the courage to ask to ride behind mc. Mc takes him to a cliffside ride, Satan has to hold on to dear life, because of speed and how fkn cute those cat ears on the helmet. General fluff. If you feel like a bit of smut, that would be nice too. Thanks and I ♥ U 🐆

I must apologize for the extreme delay on this one, 🐆 anon! I would not be offended if you said Oya instead of hello!

I've actually seen Durarara which is saying a lot because there's so much I haven't seen lol. Still it was a long time ago so I had to look up Celty because I forgot about the cat ears on her helmet.

Anyway, this is just a drabble, but I did add some smut at the end. Hopefully it's what you were looking for!

GN!MC x Satan

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: oral (reader receiving)

Satan was highly aware of your tendency to go on late night motorcycle rides. It first registered when he saw you leaving the House of Lamentation wearing all black leather and a bright yellow motorcycle helmet. That alone was intriguing, but the fact that the helmet had cat ears really caught his attention. From that moment on, he noticed when you left the house wearing that outfit. He watched as you drove away, watched when you came back, and debated with himself for months about whether or not he should ask you about it.

In the end, the power of the cat ear helmet was too much for him.

One night, when all of his brothers were otherwise occupied, Satan followed you as you made your way to the foyer. He stopped you just before you went out the door and asked to go with you.

Satan couldn't see your reaction behind the helmet, but you agreed. You gave him a helmet of his own - simple and black - then got onto the motorcycle and patted the small leather seat behind you.

In that moment, Satan realized he hadn't thought this through. Would he even fit? It didn't matter. He couldn't exactly back out now. And the way you had your head cocked while waiting for him made him blush.

Satan put the helmet on and carefully swung his leg over the bike. He positioned himself behind you somewhat stiffly, holding your waist, but not leaning in too close.

You started off slow, driving easily along the neat paved roads of the Devildom. Satan was able to keep himself on the seat while still not clutching onto you too much.

And then you reached a slightly narrower road that went directly uphill. You gave the motorcycle more speed and suddenly Satan found himself wrapping his arms around you.

As the narrow road twisted and turned around a rocky Devildom cliff, Satan pressed himself into you. He found that he was both afraid and exhilarated. There was no doubt that you knew how to handle the motorcycle.

Eventually, you came to the top of the cliff, where you stopped. Satan leaned back just a little and he sucked in a breath when he saw the view you had brought him to.

Satan got off the motorcycle, taking off his helmet so he could talk to you.

"MC," he said immediately. "This place is beautiful."

You put down the kick stand and got off the bike yourself. You didn't remove your helmet, but pushed up the front visor so he could see you. "I thought you might like it," you said.

Satan looked at you standing there beside that motorcycle. The way the lights of the Devildom below you splayed across your body. The cat ears on your now open helmet. The dust of a blush on your cheeks from the adrenaline of riding.

Satan stepped closer, caging you in against the motorcycle with his arms on either side of you. His eyes met yours and he was sure you could see his desperation.

You reached up and took off your own helmet so you could kiss him. His fingers felt across the black bodysuit until he found the top of the zipper at your chin. His tongue tangled with yours as he unzipped the front, pausing just above your belly button.

Satan moved his lips down your neck, your chest, your stomach, falling to his knees as he pulled the zipper down as far as it would go. He had to yank down on the edges of both the suit and your underwear, but he eventually gained access to the part of you he wanted to taste. Your fingers twined in his hair as he put his tongue to use.

Satan would never forget the way you moaned his name there on the cliff side - city lights sprawled out below you, motorcycle holding you up, and the cat ears on your helmet just visible in his periphery.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[slutdge]

theres something to be said about the fact that the "music doesnt matter, punk is actually all about being soft and tweeting vaguely leftist things and total pacifism" posers whose beliefs line up far better with the hippie subculture, and how that correlates to the fact that a substantial portion of the reason punk emerged as a subculture in the first place was as a counter against the hippie movement cause a lot of them clocked hippies as liberal yuppies that were full of shit and had no real backbone about the things they claimed to care so much about. interesting...

[dumbandfunn]

how cowboy!rafe and spoiled!reader met

it was a usual friday night in the local bar, the few regular rowdy ranchers and the occasional couple passing through just to grab a drink for their journey. it was nothing new. not until the door swung open more aggressively than usual and low and behold you stood in your pretty white sundress, mascara stained under eyes and demanding somebody to tell you “where the hell you were.” rafe had been on high alert the minute he lay his eyes on you, telling his usual drinking crowd to shut up while he took a sip of the whiskey he had been clinging to the entire night. you looked so helpless, fragile, rambling to the bar tender who seemed to not care about anything but how low the cut on your dress was. his eyes were trailing from where you had perched yourself back to the pervy wandering heads from the countless men who had all fallen silent at the chaos you had created from nothing. “are you even listening to me,” you pout, lip still wobbling whilst you slammed a hand down against the wooden counter. “i need somebody to help me, im lost and—” you sniffle.

an older man sitting across from you had piped up with an “ain’t nobody gon’ help you in these parts little lady, not with that attitude,” and that only made you cry harder. “but i’m lost,” you huff out, your tears quick to turn to the sweetest angry pout rafe had probably ever seen as you turn to the few people who were only watching in amusement, oh how they hated pretentious city girls. rafe’s eyebrows were raised, maybe it was then, as you started to bicker with a rancher twice your size that he needed to know more about you. and why the hell a girl like you was in a place like this in the first place. you left with a pretty loud bratty scream after nobody showed any interest in helping you, the distant laughs of the scene you’d caused echoing behind you as you sniffled back your tears and kicked at the car that had put you in the unfortunate situation in the first place. it wasn’t like rafe to follow, especially after someone like you, not that he came across anyone like that much in the first place. a clearly spoiled, city princess. maybe it was just the little white dress you were wearing, maybe he was just as pervy as the rest. he just couldn’t leave a little helpless thing like you to your own devices in a place he knew too well. or maybe he just needed you the second his pants got a little tighter when you were leaning across the bar a few minutes prior.

but less than two seconds after your tantrum he was hot on your heels, waving off the whistles that followed when the doors swung behind him. “so y’need help?”

a knight in shining armour, just a minute too late, it was tantrum city now after not getting your way.

“not from any of you anymore,” you spat out, folding your arms over your chest, narrowing your eyes at the young man who took a small step closer, taking his hat off and raising both hands up in defense, “well, you didn’t choose the best place to come cryin’ for help, alright, s’all i’ll say doll.” “—so y’gonna tell me what happened or you just gon’ sit here cryin’ all night,” he mutters out. you frown up at him, clearly in a conflict about standing your ground or getting out of the hell your car had broken down in. maybe your stubbornness had gotten the better of you, how you turned your nose up at him and quickly looked away, only for a hand to land firmly on your jaw a minute later, squishing your cheeks and staring you down with those stern blue eyes. “i told you this not the place to come cryin’ for help, s’tell me whats wrong before i go back inside and leave you here all on your own, hm? you want that?”

you shook your head almost immediately, eyes widened and lips parted. nobody had spoken to you like that in your entire life. and the way your eyebrows creased and your lip started to vibrate again, rafe knew he had you right where he wanted you. “my car broke down, can you fix it” you whisper.

“they don’t teach you manners in the city?”

you managed to squeak out a please, just as his free hand reached to brush a few stray hairs out of your face, licking his thumb and swiping the clumps of mascara from under your eyes. “now that wasn’t so hard was it doll?” and you shook your head again, nervous and chewing down on your bottom lip. he really did have you right then and there, someone who could handle your tantrums and someone who could knock the attitude from your lungs with something as simple as an eyebrow raise.

everyone was shocked to see you curled under rafe’s arm the following friday in his usual corner of the same bar, feet swinging and dazed. nobody would dare say a bad word about you again.

[strawb3rrystar]

YUUUMMM I love ur blog waaahha

can I pls request hazbin hotel boys with a gangster leader gf or bf u can even not mention the gender idc just a cool but reckless s/o that almost every time gives them heart attacks when they often hear they're injured or in a hospital, you can add blitzo and stolas pleaseresee -🐆

Skin as tough as diamond.

Pairing: Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Alastor, Lucifer Morningstar, Blitzø, Stolas x GN! Reader

Warnings: Platonic Alastor, reader being too badass for their own good

Word count: 302

✰Masterlist - Helluva Boss

Angel Dust loves your recklessness because you remind him of Cherri. You're not an Overlord, but he thinks you have the energy to be one. Will always get you out of the danger however. And will bandage your wounds.

Husk hates that you bring him along for your recklessness. You have this poor cat on the last of his nine lives. But he was an Overlord once, he can handle a little danger, no? No, he cannot. He just wants to go back to the hotel and lay down.

Sir Pentious is absolutely stressed when you get hurt. Like, he's kind of reckless himself. But you're on a whole different level than him. He'll be panicking when you get hurt. But he's a supportive boyfriend who will bandage your wounds.

Alastor finds it most amusing how often you end up injured. Watching the aftermath of your recklessness is his favorite thing to do. Of course, he's a good friend and helps bandage you up.

Lucifer will go into protective mode. Like he's ripping limbs off for you. He'll pick you up into his arms and carry you home. And bandage your wounds of course. Every night he'll hold you close and cuddle into your chest.

Blitzø is also reckless. So y'all are just reckless together. The two of you will put yourselves in constant danger and then make fun of each other for getting hurt. Limping all the way home together, and bandaging each other's wounds. Ah, yes, you two are a match made in hell.

Stolas will have a heart attack when you get hurt. He finds your recklessness to be adorable. But once you get hurt he goes into panic mode. Of course he'll have your wounds bandaged and kiss you better. Though, he might scold you for getting hurt.

Star's notes -> I love u anon <333 (giving you a virtual hug rn)

(Thank you, 🐆 anon, for requesting!) (Requests are open!)

Taglist -> @alexandria-fandom @corruptcoder @astrolovedy @perfectlycraftychaos @stressedbleach

@idontreallyexistyet @ghostdoodlen @roboticsuccubus83 @blood-heart22 @cirrus-sampling-sanity

@onyxxtheghost @sugarplumz100 @marenelili @budozone @myamythos

@hazbinhappy @samohxt2-0 @mollzaj @sunshines-bright @t0uchst4rv3d

@saints-wrapped-in-plastic @sweetadonisbutbetter @little-miss-chaoss @cummunistcat | Join the taglist

[rubiehart]

INTRODUCING CAMGIRL!LEOPARD!READER

⭑.ᐟ she started camming for a little extra cash, she’s super shameless about it even though kooks and pogues alike have their opinions on her decision.

⭑.ᐟ she got low-key popular because her trashy and unplanned vibe of her vids reeled in loads of weirdos.

⭑.ᐟ jj accidentally stumbled on her account on one of his late night twitter scrolls and saw one of your leaks. he knew it was you from the leopard tattoo on your hip.

⭑.ᐟ he did feel guilty at first for literally seeing his best friend naked and fucking herself every night for like a month and not telling you. he eventually ended up blurting it out at a sleepover and she really didn’t care.

⭑.ᐟ she really just said some shit like “you like what you saw?” and he’s just bright red and stumbling cuz he’d genuinely so down bad for her it’s insane.

⭑.ᐟ they smoke a joint and she convinces him to film a video, they post it and it gets loads of attraction and they start filming more together.

⭑.ᐟ people seem to like the dynamic of the goofy boy and the bitchy, chill girl who puts him in his place sometimes. so they keep filming videos together and it’s a friends w benefits situation.

⭑.ᐟ the pogues eventually find out and the other boys are jealous as fuck, they don’t show it. john b acts all chill about it but he’s really freaking, and pope’s just not even talking about it cuz he can’t get the image of you fucking yourself with a purple dildo out of his mind from when jj first showed him.

⭑.ᐟ kiara’s a mega dramatic bitch about it just because she wants to be in jj’s place. #lesbiankiaratruther

[thegnomelord]

I can just picture Hound desperately trying to get whoever was able to capture him off and away. Snarlihg and growling like a rabid animal. They end up with multiple bite and scratch marks that are bleeding but they do have Hound so it is a success

Its js a lil funny ngl -🐆

Naaah man Hound is gonna be living up to his namesake. Just imagine Makarov giving (read- forcing) Hound to get like titanium caps for his canine teeth - like the caps military dogs get to protect their teeth. So hound can literally rip throats out lol.

I imagine the 'easy' part would be to catch hound, it would be a 100 times harder to keep him in captivity if he was fully healthy, which is why I'm contemplating giving him some type of a temporary cripple.

Also like, Shadow company capturing hound, him biting the throat out of a few good men, before being subdued and Graves to 141 is like "fuck it, you can keep the Cujo. I'm gonna go get my men a rabies shot."

[livelaughlovepedri]

and when he comes back as the best version of himself then what?