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#☆ 🐆
sunniewr · 2 months
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⠞﹫⠀⠀ˋ⠀⠀🦀⠀⠀˳˳˳⠀⠀➈⠀⠀⠀𝅥𝄰˻⠀⠀🌽⠀⠀🌊⠀ ⠫
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(_⠀⠀☀️⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀좋은⠀⠀!⠀⠀𔗶⠀⠀□𝆝̸ㅤ⠀😿⠀⠀꯭⭒꯭
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⠀꯭⭒⠀⠀⬚͒O1:O1⠀⠀❀ᮬׁ࣮⠀⠀⭐️⠀⠀ᬺᬺᬸ ᭮᭰͟⠀⠀🐬⠀⠀⠀꯭❀͟︎̼͟͟⠀꯭
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dumbandfunn · 3 days
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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.
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strawb3rrystar · 4 days
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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.
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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
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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.
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Star's notes -> I love u anon <333 (giving you a virtual hug rn)
(Thank you, 🐆 anon, for requesting!) (Requests are open!)
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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
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thegnomelord · 2 months
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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
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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.
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canniballand · 1 month
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mrstealyabitchx · 1 year
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🐆
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xdiamondxgirlzx · 6 months
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🐆🖤 | X•@gissyylynette
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frankencanon · 6 months
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Your Daily Reminder That Panthers Actually Have Spots — You Just Can't See Them Normally...
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"A black panther is the melanistic colour variant of the leopard (Panthera pardus) and the jaguar (Panthera onca). Black panthers of both species have excess black pigments, but their typical rosettes are also present." (Wikipedia)
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rubiehart · 1 day
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when john b is wanted by the cops, leopard!reader uses her pretty privilege to get the pogues some sustenance in the form of shitty pizza.
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the roughed up teens sit in the crowded truck, seats reclined to keep them out of view of any passers-by who were drooling for that reward money. the yellow-ish light coming from the ‘urban slice’ sign illuminated the side walk, casting eerie shadows across the faces of the teens and distorted reflections against the windows.
“does anyone have any more cash to contribute?” clearly irritated, pope tries again, shaking the few coins he has in the palm of his hand, giving expected looks towards everyone. the silence was all the evidence he needed and he lets out a long sigh.
“dude, i’m so hungry i could eat my own arm.” jj pipes up, throwing his head back against the seat and flopping his arm around for empasis. the girl with her head on his lap gives him a sideways look, teeth crunching down loudly on the hard candy, completely unamused by his antics.
“only time i’ll agree with jj.” kiara adds from the driver’s seat, throwing an arm over her eyes and groaning. jj scoffs. “how much you got pope?” the second girl asks, sitting up from her laying position against jj and eyeing up pope expectedly. “uh-“ he starts, jingling the coins around between his palms to count. “79 cents.” he almost winces, eyes flitting to the girls face as she throws herself back against the leather seat with a groan. “great.”
“will you all shut up, for even five seconds? please.” john b asks with his eyebrows furrowed, turning his body to face the three in the backseat, eyes trained specifically on the girl with a short temper. “acting like i can’t hear your stomach rumbling from here.” she quips back, arms crossed over her chest, an equally unamused expression on her face.
huffing impatiently, she takes one last glance at her unhelpful friends, reaching over pope to pull the handle of the door. “since none of you losers wanna help-“ she starts, climbing over pope’s stunned body and jumping down onto the pavement, her sneakers smacking the concrete. “i’ll just do this myself.”
“um- i know i’m not the plan guy but i’m not really seein’ how this is workin’ out.” john b adds from the front seat, eyeing her suspiciously through the dirty window and she rolls her eyes, a little grin gracing her lips, teeth glinting in the shifty light.
“i got this. ‘kay?” she directs the questions at everyone, but her eyes are still trained on john b’s, blinking slowly as his eyes widen ever so slightly, his whole attitude seemingly changing. “uh- yeah whatever, be safe n’ stuff.” he nods, ignoring jj’s teasing from the backseat.
she gives everyone a once over, returning kiara’s supportive thumbs up with sticking her tongue out, slamming the car door and starting towards the borderline abandoned pizzeria.
she pushes open the door, big smile on her face directed to the only person behind the counter, a boy about her age, his cheeks noticeably redden as he looks her over, he hesitantly returns a little smile as she shoves her hands into the back pockets of her shorts, back arched a little and tits pushed forward as she eyes up the menu overhead.
her eyes are big and innocent as she blinks slowly at the menu, eyes flitting to his once she’d decided. “could i please get a large pizza, deep dish.“ she starts, eyes trained on him intently as he nods, stabbing nervously at the shitty screen, attempting to take her order.
“um- what toppings?” he hiccups out, her eyes widen a little and she pouts her lips a little, looking to the side as if she was thinking. “hmm..” she mumbles, bouncing on her heels a little, boobs practically in his face as she reels of her incessant list of toppings.
“cool. uh- will that be all?” he asks, scratching behind his ear awkwardly as he tries to keep his eyes on her face. “mhm. and a strawberry milkshake, extra whipped cream.” she smiles, rapping her nails against the chipped marble counter, tips of his ears reddening as he processes the order and quickly scurries into the back without another word.
she smirks to herself, pulling out her phone and swiping onto whatever app to pass the time, elbows leaning against the counter as the guy sneaks glances at her whilst sprinkling olives onto her pizza.
sliding her order across the counter to her. “that’ll be $12.95.” he nods, and she smiles, a little too confidently for someone who currently doesn’t even have a cent to her name. “for sure.”
she reaches into her bra, purposely making a show of dipping hem of her tank down to show the lace of her bra. “oh shoot.” she whispers, theatrically patting down the rest of her pockets and sighing when she expectedly finds nothing, concealing her smirk at the way his gaze followed her hands, shamlessly taking up and down her body as she pouted.
“i must’ve forgot my purse..” she mumbles, throwing one hand down at her side, giving her best puppy eyes to the scrawny boy and he goes red, something that seemed to be routine for him. “uh, y’know what, it’s on the house. closing up this shit hole in half an hour or so anyways-“ he coughs up the excuse, clearly a lie but she was thankful anyway.
“really?” she smiles, canines gleaming as she picks up the pizza box, milkshake in the other hand, wrapping her lips around the shitty paper straw and taking an overly suggestive sip, eyes closed and fluttering as she lets out a pleasured noise.
“that’s really good.” she smiles, he’s bright red by this point and she’s feeling a little bad, although she does take pride in making perverted men uncomfortable, he seemed sweet so she left it at that. “see ya!” she turns on her heel, waving behind her as the little bell above the door chimes to signal her exit, sneakers tapping against the concrete as she slides open the truck door again, the smell of freshly baked pizza filling the senses of the starved teens.
“someone order a pizza?”
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savagethebaddiexo · 1 month
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Ayisha Diaz • 🐆💦
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littlfckbunny · 13 hours
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slutdge · 2 months
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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...
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29xo · 7 months
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thegnomelord · 2 months
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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."
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canniballand · 4 months
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rosalindesantiago · 1 month
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Jenna Ortega
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