#b.o can i love you

[kpoptimeout]

K-Pop Debuts and Comebacks for the Second Week of June (Jun 5-Jun 11 2023)

Jun 5

fromis_9 - #menow

Underrated girl group fromis_9 shows a more mature and refined performance in this comeback as 8 members!

Taeyong - SHALALALA

NCT's main rapper Taeyong goes for a more experimental sound in this solo outing!

Jun 6

TNX - Kick It 4 Now

P NATION's first boy band returns with new jack swing sound reminiscent of New Edition and New Kids on the Block!

Jun 7

B.O - Can I Love You

Singer-songwriter B.O is back with a smooth RnB track!

Han Dong Geun - Relationship

Ballad singer Hang Dong Geun returns with another heartwrenching song.

KANTO - The Reason I Love That Old Song

Rapper KANTO is back with a vibey piece.

P1Harmony - JUMP

Rising boy band P1Harmony has fun in this energetic piece!

Yoo Chaehoon - White Desert

LA POEM's leader Yoo Chaehoon releases a solo track showcasing his fantastic vocals.

YongYong - Diaryy

Solo indie artist YongYong is back with a touching piece with a beautiful chimes loop.

Jun 8

No releases.

Jun 9

No releases.

Jun 10

No releases.

Jun 11

ShinEuiJin - You're My Star

Korean soloist ShinEuiJin drops an exciting pop rock track!

What is your favourite song of the week?

[thefunkfactory]

Michael’s Pits

Getting into his car Michael closed the door and basked in the hot musty sedan. It was a hot day and he had left a pair or two of worn shoes sitting in his car just baking and letting their aroma amplify. Michael took in some deep breaths as he felt sweat running down his body, he had just exited the gym and the hot sun outside kept his body from cooling off. Michael loved summer because he always worked up the most stink during the sweltering summer months, lifting his arms. He turned his head to get a deep sniff of one pit and then turned his head to get a whiff of the other. Both were producing a dank scent that pleased Michael and his dim mind. Hearing his phone buzzing he looked down and saw someone texting him, the text was from his boyfriend asking what he wanted to do for dinner.

Camron was a little surprised when his boyfriend Michael texted back and told him “we shuld get a pizza bro”, Michael never spoke like that so it was very odd to Camron that Michael was texting like a dumb jock all of a sudden. “Sure babe I’ll order it” Camron texted, he called the pizza place they go to sometimes.

Walking into the pizza place a sweet looking guy was standing at the cash register, “Hi how can I help you today?” he asked Michael. Michael looked at him dumbly for a second and a dopey grin crossed his face, “Great! A fucking weirdo” thought the cashier. The cashier, Sage, asked again, “How can I help you today, sir?”. Michael’s foggy brain cleared up a little bit to allow him to tell the cashier what he needed, “Uhhh hi bro im picking up a pizza”, “What’s the name?” Sage politely asked, “Uhhhh it’s under…ummmm…” his brain was having trouble getting his boyfriend’s name out “it’s under Camron!” he shouted out joyfully. “Okay! Let me go get that for ya” Sage said, going into the kitchen Sage found the pizza box with Camron scribbled on the side. Walking back out Sage was met with the sight of Michael sniffing his armpit, Sage could smell the B.O. wafting over the counter and into his nose. “Ummm here you go sir…” Sage said apprehensively as he was being weirded out, “Do you think my pits stink lil man?” Michael asked the cashier as he scratched his fingers in his wild forest of pit hair. “Ummm sir…I-,” Sage stuttered out “Here give em a whiff” Michael said, sticking the hand he was just scratching his revolting pit with into the cashier’s face, Michael laughed as Sage took an accidental sniff.

Sage felt his body go limp as the stench emanating off Michael’s fingers put him in a trance, “Whats happening!?!” Sage thought “This…this guy…reeks”. Michael watched as the cute little cashier began to drool, his eyes became unfocused and dull upon smelling Michael’s masculinity. Removing his fingers for a second, Michael walked around the counter to be right next to Sage, getting a couple whiffs of fresh air, Sage shook his head and blinked. Wiping the drool away he shouted out “What just happened?! G…get away! NO! BACK OF MAnnn…” Sage’s words drifted off as he was put back in Michael’s stinky armpit. Holding the pipsqueak’s head into his pit, Michael watched as his musty scent did it’s job.

Sage began to grow, the first transformation Michael saw started after about a minute or two of exposure to the stink. Sage’s neck began to expand with muscle, which quickly spread into his dainty shoulders, turning them into two massive hulking mounds. Sage felt as an intense tingling descended into his arms, they quickly transformed into looking like a hillside, all the rolling muscles he had just grown were so perfect and round. His armpits filled with a peppering of hair and began to produce their own nauseating stench similar to Michaels. Michael looked on proudly as Sage’s pecs bounced out and touched him and his stomach chiseled itself into a perfect six pack. Sage’s thighs began to expand next as the transformation moved downwards, the tiny toothpicks he once had for legs turned into massive meaty members holding him up. His feet began to grow next and they quickly burst out of the sneakers containing them and released Sage’s newly developed rotten foot funk.

Pulling his victim out of his armpit, Michael got to see his new face. It had changed while stuck in Michael’s smelly pit. His skin had gotten a good bit darker, his goatee had become just a patch of hair underneath his chin, and his stache disappeared. He lost all the femininity he once had and looked like a reeking latino gym bro. Michael was satisfied and took the pizza and left, on his way out another young twinkish customer walked in and he heard Sage ask the customer “Huhuhuh bro do my pits stink?”.

[joeloverture]

fair's fair | pervy!dbf!joel x f!reader

masterlist | notifs blog

pairing: pervy!dbf!joel x pervy!f!reader summary: [no outbreak] joel shoves you in his sweaty pits as a 'joke'. warnings: (18+ mdni) pervy!dbf!joel, age gap (early to mid 20s/38), somewhat mutual pining & sexual tension, joel in a wifebeater and jorts, reader has hair, smacking joel's ass like god intended, degradation, sweaty!joel, musk kink, armpit kink!!!, coming untouched, joel calls reader 'kiddo', 2 spanks, m!masturbation [no use of y/n] word count: 2.1k a/n: in another life, i'd be sorry for this fic. in this life, i am not. as always, a shoutout to the effervescent @lovesickonmybed for moodboard curation + creating this au. love to @seventeenpins for taking a glimpse at this + inspiring me. ty esquire team.... hooooly shit. pls suspend your disbelief if you can't come untouched we're here for a good time not a realistic one. btw you're all pussies for chickening out of the pit fics you 'planned' to write after this esquire photo fell into our laps /j

You awake to a rattling crash on the other side of the wall that you share with your dad’s combination garage/man cave. With an exaggerated groan, you peel yourself out of your creased sheets. Maybe the raccoons that have been terrorizing your garbage cans have finally broken into the garage. You’re still in your pajamas — a low-cut tank top and some bloomers that are entirely too short on you — when you rub the sleep from your eyes and shove your feet into your slippers to investigate. 

The house is quieter than dust so early in the morning. Your dad’s out at work, and the rest of the neighborhood is just beginning to wake up. There’s the tstststststs of the Adler’s sprinkler system and the birds are chirping. In the mudroom, you snatch up a broom and wrap your fist around it. You listen through the paneling of the door for any hissing or scuttling, but hear nothing. You are not looking to get rabies today.

You poke your head out of the door, broom pointed at the ground like a staff. Immediately, you’re blinded by a slice of sunshine cutting through the very much open garage.

You’re about two seconds away from sprinting back inside to call 911 when you see the unkempt, sunkissed hair of none other than Joel Miller.

You set the broom gently back against the wall. Joel’s not a threat – at least not to anything but that traitor between your legs. He’s just your dad’s buddy; drinking buddy, fishing buddy, jack-of-all-trades buddy. He’s also no stranger to those borderline goo-goo eyes you give him. How could you not? He’s just so broad and muscled and God, you swear up and down that you stare more at his ass than anyone has ever stared at yours.

Sometimes, if you’re lucky, he’ll even give you shit about it. Bending over directly in your line of sight at block parties, ‘play wrestling’ with you on the dock by the lake whenever you jokingly call him an old man, or, in one very special instant, giving your ass a smack that sent you into an hours long tizzy.

You deserve to give him shit about it, too.

After all, he’s the one ferreting around in your dad’s garage in the wee hours of the morning. You pad into the garage, footsteps muffled by your slippers as you navigate around your dad’s pickup. You catch a better look at Joel when you pass the truck bed. And, for better or for worse, he’s dressed like a slut.

His ribbed white wifebeater stretches over his wide chest, grass stains scattered along the small of his back. Sweat darkens the hems of his shirt under his armpits, glistening and beading on the back of his neck, too. In true dad fashion, he even has on jorts. He’s bent over your dad’s tool bench, thumbing around an assortment of screwdrivers. His denim-covered ass sticks out. A smile spreads across your face.

You slip around the truck and take soft step after soft step until you’re right behind him. You can’t help but notice a cocktail of his pheromones and B.O. surrounding him. He must’ve been outside for a while now with all of the stains he’s accumulated on his shirt already. You keep your breathing muted so he can’t hear you as you reach out and — smack!

Joel shrieks, shooting upright. His head slams into the shelf overhead and a few bolts go toppling onto the concrete below. He cusses like a sailor as his hand goes up to rub the back of his head, nursing where a lump will probably be in a few hours time. Joel whips around to see you, smothering your giggles behind your hand. “You little shit,” he huffs, still scratching at his head. You don’t miss how his cheeks are firetruck red. “The fuck are ya doin’?”

“Me? The fuck are you doing, Miller? Stomping around my dad’s garage at, like, the asscrack of dawn–”

“Nine in the mornin’ ain’t the asscrack of dawn, sweetcheeks,” Joel says. Then, he holds up a set of pliers. “Mower shit the bed. I’m thinkin’ Sarah stole my pliers to make necklaces, but she hasn’t fessed up yet. Your pops said I could borrow his.” He stretches, giving you a long whiff of his scent. The groan he lets out stirs something in your stomach, much to your chagrin.

“I think the mower is the least of your worries,” you say, wrinkling your nose. “You reek. Shower shit the bed, too?”

“You try doin’ yard work in 90 degree heat, kiddo. See how much you smell like that strawberry raspberry peach whatever-the-fuck soap you’re usin’.”

You roll your eyes so hard you’re surprised you don’t see the back of your skull. “Rosemary eucalyptus,” you correct under your breath.

“Hmm, what was that?” Joel asks, tossing the pliers down onto the workbench. “Gotta speak up.”

“Rosemary eucalyptus,” you say. “But I bet you wouldn’t know. What do you use? 18 in 1?”

Joel grunts. “Real funny.” He takes a step closer to you, lips taut with a smirk. “How ‘bout you find out?”

You don’t have time to question what the hell he means – he just cups the back of your head with one of his wide palms and shoves your face directly into his closest sweaty pit. “Mmmmph!” you protest, mouth sealed shut against the thatch of hair that’s spattered across his skin. You hold your breath for as long as you can, but eventually, you’re forced to suck in a breath through your squished nose. His musk, sweet and just as sharp, fills your airways. Your clit all but jerks between your legs in humiliation, drawing a whine out of your throat.

Joel chuckles, ruffling your hair. It’s enough to make your thighs clench. “You’re a little freak, huh?” He presses harder on the back of your head, so much so that you almost get a mouthful of his underarm.

“Youuu dick!” you try to say without opening your mouth too far. It comes out muffled against his sweat-pearled skin. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to push him off of you.

Another wry chuckle comes from above. Joel bends his arm so that his elbow is wrapped around the back of your head, effectively trapping you in his funk. “Come on, huff ‘em. Practically fuckin’ asking for it earlier, all ‘a that mouthin’ off. So now you get a mouthful of my pits. Fair’s fair, kiddo.”

Embarrassment ribbons through your body, the kind that makes you leak into your panties against your will. Still looking for a way out, you squirm against his ironclad hold.

It’s only good for making him land a heavy-hitting slap across your ass. You yelp, a new wave of slick saturating the drenched gusset of your panties. You jump where you are, hips bucking into nothing – for escape or pressure, you’re not entirely sure. “Unless you wanna go over my knee instead?” Your face sears with humiliation.

Tentatively, you snuffle a bit against his pit, biting into your cheeks at his musk. It makes you cough a little bit – he’s been carrying the smell of cutting grass and his own sweat all morning.

“Yeah, thought so. But you can do better than that, sweetcheeks. I said huff, not fake an asthma attack.” You whimper, this time sucking in a longer breath. Here he is, holding you down, secure against his pit as you're left with no other option than to take what he gives you, when he gives it to you. All you can smell, feel, touch is just Joel, Joel, Joel. It makes you lightheaded.

Your clit is practically a kickdrum between your thighs, pulsing and doing more work than your head. You try to angle yourself so that you can rub your clit against Joel’s leg, but he puts a stop to that real quick. “Gettin’ all wound up just from being where ya belong, your pretty little face in my pit?” You mewl, reaching for Joel’s sides. You bunch your fists in the fabric of his wifebeater, and he allows it.

“Since you’re so eager to complain about it, how ‘bout you clean me up, huh?” He nudges his pit against your face again, and, confusedly, you furrow your brows. You can’t see much of him, but you do see the edge of his mouth tip up in satisfaction. “You got rocks for brains? Lick, kiddo.”

Hesitance drives the soft kitten lick of your tongue, swiping up and down across a very small portion of his pit. He loosens up on his grip on you, giving you the slightest bit more reign. You try to tell yourself that you’re scared of what he might do if you disappoint him, but hell if you don’t want this as much as he does, tongue, nose, face buried in his pits. Some sort of ultimate form of worship between the two of you.

You lave your tongue across his pit, eyes fluttering with each stroke. You swirl it in the crease of his arm, sucking his goddamn hairs clean with the fervor you’ve picked up. Enthused now, you bob your head up and down. Your clit responds, throbbing with a heartbeat of its own.

You’re panting, inhaling and exhaling him, lapping up his musk like a fucking dog, gone from reluctant to eager. Your clit twitches faster and faster, and you swear that arousal must be tacky on the insides of your thighs, leaking through your panties all over the front of your bloomers, but you can’t do anything about it. You can’t even grind against Joel – you can only slurp against his armpit, something like desperation having replaced all of your previous mortification from when he’d shoved you there in the first place.

You’re so preoccupied with pleasing him that you don’t even notice the thumping of your clit, picking up speed and pressure. Your body seizes in between your greedy little licks. You feel yourself weaken before you stiffen.

And maybe it’s the way Joel keeps groaning with each movement of your tongue. It could be how he exhales, “Kiddo,” in a raspy voice, both demeaning and endearing all at once. But in the end, it’s how he says, “Mmmm, such a good goddamn tongue. Bet it’d feel so good on my cock,” that breaks the dam between your legs.

You shudder, coming completely undone with little moans and whimpers in Joel’s arms without so much as a hand on your clit, just your face smothered in his pit. Drool runs down your lips and across your chin as you jerk and weaken in his grasp. If you weren’t so underwater, so far gone, you’d be able to hear him saying, “Fuck – whoa, whoa, whoa,” trying to stop you from falling on your ass in the middle of the garage. His hands card across your sides as he props you up against the workbench. Your vision blackens at the edges from the intensity of your orgasm, and you’re still coming, at least you think you are, when you blink yourself back to awareness. You’re wide-eyed, tears brimming at your waterline, incapacitated in a way that you didn’t know you could be.

“Holy shit,” you gasp when you finally fully come to, slumped over the workbench, still half-clinging to Joel. “Fuck.”

Joel looks stunned, looking you up and down as if he can’t get enough of you. His eyes land right between your thighs, where, sure enough, you’ve ruined your bloomers. You still feel like deadweight, and you struggle to stand upright. You’re not sure you’ve ever come so hard even with someone’s hands all over your. Joel’s glistening with even more sweat, and it’s impossible to miss the glaring bulge in his shorts. He clears his throat after a minute. “Oughta go get cleaned up before your daddy gets back for his lunch break, kiddo.”

You stumble upright, drenched in sweat yourself now, Joel’s lingering scent still pervading every breath you take. “Y-yeah,” you manage, nodding. You feel out of your own body, stumbling towards the door. You’re so wet that you can feel it with every goddamn step. Fuck Joel Miller, cocky piece of sh–

You’re immediately returned to your own body by the resounding swat Joel lands on your ass. You jump, shooting a glare over your shoulder. He puts his hands up, pleading innocence.

You’re not surprised when you crawl out of your shower, smelling of rosemary eucalyptus and dripping water all over the floor, only to see Joel’s mower abandoned in the middle of his yard. Even worse, you aren’t surprised in the slightest when you squint through your bedroom window, Joel sprawled out across his bed, hips bucking in-time with his fist before catching your eye and spraying ropes of cum all over his abdomen.

You mouth at him through the window with a taunting little wink, Clean yourself up this time.

[kylestfs]

Hi. Is parking with cars still relevant? I urgently need a car to get to the airport, and the taxi service is full... Can I take Mercedes-Benz S-class? I hope I make it to the medical conference, otherwise my supervisor will kill me..

Conference ? Job? No, the only job you’ll ever be doing is asking your dad for more money and trying to hit on girls at expensive yatch clubs. Maybe you’ll impress them driving a brand new $150,000 car as your first car that your father obviously bought, or those nice watches and shoes?I guess that’s what makes you such a cocky, straight arrogant young preppy boy, right ?

Statistics :

Identity :

Age : 18

Name : Sebastian

IQ : 80

Personality : Very annoying, just thinks money can make its way into everything - overall just dumb and not very connected with reality, thinks whoever isn’t rich doesn’t belong near him.

Sexuality : Straight, very straight.

Body :

Body type : Lean, sinewy body.

Overall attractiveness : 9.5/10.

Private’s size : 5 inches hard, but pretty thin which makes it look even smaller.

Rear end size : Perfectly round shaped rear, nice and full. Soft and smooth. Very nice to see bounce in pants and lovely to touch.

Overall B.O : 5/10 - Just smells mostly of cologne, but it’s very strong and sometimes annoying, with a slight sweaty funk underneath that mixes with the deodorant/cologne and becomes quite odorous.

Armpit scent : Pretty sweaty, and the smell is quite strong. Deodorants only mask the smell for about an hour before it starts making Itself known again.

Gassiness : 8/10, Those rich restaurants he goes to just make himself terribly gassy. The sounds are mostly hot, steamy puffs that smell of rotten eggs. He takes pride in them though and loves the smell, but that’s a little secret of his.

Foot smell : Quite smelly, smelling of rotten butter and cheese after a long day, and since he mostly wears expensive leather shoes the smell gets trapped in them and becomes very strong, almost repulsive.

Muscles : Lean/muscular body.

[icarusredwings]

"I said

Silence.

I warned you, If you won't stop, I would do it myself."

Francis wasn't done with him. Not yet anyway. But he would make him obedient. Wordlessly taking orders like a machine. No more back talk. He would make him perfect. At least… that is....Until Logan shows up.

Chapter 3.

Brand New City

Cw: Dead Dove, Mentions of Rape, Kidnapping, Straight up torture, Various cruel and unusual punishments, Blood, Murder, Feral behavior, Descriptions of pain and wounds, Voices, Hallucinations, Extreme hurt/comfort, Angst, Loss of healing factor, loss of voice- Permanently(!), Character death.

You may experiance lots of crying.

He would hum if he could. Hum along to the electricity he could hear from the light above him. Make a song out of it. Harmonize with the screams.

But he couldn't even do that.

Opening the door was none other then the man who prevented him from ever doing that again. His head lowers on instinct, trying to get a better look through the sweat running down his forehead. He would have loved to explain to the reader how this place stunk. It SHOULD have smelled like rotting flesh, agony, and B.o. But it smelled of nothing.

Nothing at all.

He couldn't even taste the blood in his mouth.

The man in front of him smirked, too smugly for his liking. Clapping his hands together he stood about 2 feet from his chair, rubbing them together as he smiled bigger than the Joker at his batman themed birthday party.

“So. How's your recovery coming? Hopefully the boys weren't too rough with you.” He states, looking down on him like Johnathan Groff as King George did on John Adams. “You know how they can be. You know the saying, Boys will be boys.”

The comment was direct. It hurt. It hurt because he knew that his goons were in fact too rough with him. He knew he wouldn't give a rat's ass if they didn't feed him, punched him, kicked him. He didn't care if they held him down, beat him until he couldn't move any longer, coughed blood in their face or if they had their way with him until they became bored.. and it hurt.

Oh, did it hurt...

Still did..

Look, Wade could take a lot, he was already mentally snapped. So for them to take away that last bit of sanity he held? It was simply cruel. Like hanging a bone to a starving dog JUST out of reach no matter how far it jumps and snaps, always failing, eventually giving up, laying down, and accepting its fate of permanent malnutrition to the point of death. Accepting that by fighting it was only moving up their appointment with her.

With Death.

Wade felt like dying after what they've done to him. He knew he thought about it a lot but… He's never wanted to see her more than now. She would kiss him better.. she would take away his pain.

He was sure that his brain was rotting in places it wasn't before, the flesh of his mind decomposing, hot with dehydration and.. what was he talking about? Oh my god was he STILL talking? For fuck sakes.

Glancing up, Francis was still going on about something. Probably something stupid. Why did mad scientists always gloat to their victims?

He wondered how long he was going to let him rot like this. His limbs were already so numb, so heavy and felt like gravity was close to ripping them off with no help at all. It hurt.

That's all he could keep thinking.

It hurts.

What exactly? Well… Everything. Mainly his throat. God did his throat hurt. It throbbed, was sticky, bloody, and raw. His spine hurt, his toes hurt, his jaw hurt, his fingers felt so numb that he wasn't even sure if they were still attached. The soreness alone was killing him. Whatever he did to him? Wade felt like he enhanced his pain receptors. Taking them from a 15 to a 150.

It hurt so badly to breathe, each breath making his chest shake, rise and fall, trembling. This only enhanced, the sharp pain running through his heavy cheek, flinching as he was slapped.

“What's my name?”

Glancing up at him, Wade was more then confused. His body was falling into pieces and THAT'S what he cared about!? What's worse is he knew that he couldn't answer him. He was physically incapable of it.

“I said ‘What's my name?!” He screams at him, leaning in close, staring as Wade glared daggers at him, his mind already thinking of millions of ways to kill him.

If only he had the strength to fight..

Leaning in, Francis smirked that sick bastard of a smile, putting his hand to his ear. “Sorry, What was that? I don't think I heard you correctly, could you repeat that?”

About 5 full seconds pass before his grin gets widder, breathing out as he stands again, sighing in relief.

“Finally… Silence. What did I tell you? I warned you that If you won't stop, I would have to do it myself.”

He flicks Wade in the nose almost playfully. Wade, who, if it wasn't for the tape wrapped around his head to the point breathing through his mouth wasn’t an option- would have bitten his finger clean off.

Francis punches him. Hard. He breathed heavily through his nose, heaving and trying to groan out but nothing came out. Nothing ever came out anymore..

He laughs, smiling. Wade could count all of his teeth if his eye wasn't starting to swell up. Grabbing his face, tears forced themselves out of his eyes and down his cheek. Pulling him close, Francis put their heads together. “Oh, Look at you. So pretty when you cry.. are those for me? Hm? Ooh yes, Show me those big scared eyes. You aren't so full of quips now, are you?”

His hand reaches down, cranking up the collar around his neck, watching Wade's body shake. Not from fear but because his body was physically struggling to stay upright. He would have already flopped over if his arms and legs weren't chained, making him only slouch instead of fall to the floor.

“Let's be honest, you look better with your mouth shut anyway.”

Looking at him, he was confused. So confused. What was wrong with this guy? What kind of game is this? If Wade's voices didn't agree with him he would have claimed that Francis lost it far more than he did.

He pulls away, trailing a finger from the collar, going up his throat and across his jaw. “So let's make you gorgeous, huh? So… What's my name?”

Wade's eyes widen, his pupils, for once, shrinking. He squeezes his legs further together, trying to turn away only to flick him off with his untied finger, his wrists tied to the chair arms.

Francis slams a fist down on the finger, snapping it back as Wade jolts, silently screaming, huffing, beginning to hyperventilate and struggle against the chair best he could.

FffffUCK that hurt! He didn't remember such little fingers ever hurting that badly. Did it always burt that bad? Jesus christ! He needed out. He needed to escape. But he's already tried all his tricks. It only got him hurt more.

Again he hits him, slapping him with the back of his hand hard enough to bust his lip through the tape. The crimson that flooded his mouth made him flinch, gritting his teeth as he swallowed. It was agonizing. Each movement of his throat muscles was worse and worse, seeming almost paralyzed.

“Where do you think you'll go? Huh? You ain't going anywhere! And now look at what you've made me do!” He shouts, as Wade's head leans back, looking at him through his blonde eyelashes, exhausted, the vein they had in his arm pumping out what blood he was replenishing itself at snail speeds.

“You've made me ruin one of my best works yet… but that's okay. All good bitches break eventually. And then you'll be finally useful. The perfect soldier.”

What was it with people and the perfect soldier thing? Didn't the Winter Soldier already have this arc?? And didn't he already try to make him perfect in the first movie? God the writers are really getting lazy aren't they.. His eyes roll, and again he's hit, the sting running up his jaw and across his cheek, feeling the burn in his nose as it begins bleeding heavier.

“But no, you couldn't behave! So now you're going to die, alone, sitting in your own piss. What? Like anyone would actually come to save you?” he laughs. “You actually believe that? That anyone would actually care about you? You're disgusting. Fake skin and all, I know who you are underneath it all.”

Francis grabs his wrists, leaning forward. “Even your own mother couldn't love a face like that. Could she?”

‘He was probably right’, Wade thinks, feeling himself slipping away. His blood felt as if it were pouring out of him like a barrel of whiskey with holes shot through it.. Why didn't Francis just kill him already? He could easily shoot him. Get rid of him like the nasty scum he was.. but he didn't. He nee-

His mind switches to something else mid sentence in his head. A different voice taking over.

Whiskey… the smell of it stained on Logan's sweatshirts used to be the only thing that kept him sane, But now? It hurt too much to think about. It hurts too much to think about his loss. To think he would never smell that again...

If he thought about it anymore? Well, his heart was already about to die.. might as well go out thinking about that muscley hunk of Canadian. How gently he held him. How hot it was when he protected puppins from big dogs at the dog park or braided Laura's hair… how he loved him.

Truely.. loved him..

‘Never again, I fear’, Wade thinks and believes it brokenheartedly.

“Are you even listening to m-”

wwwwWWWOOOO

His head snapped towards the door, picking up a com as he clicked the button, walking away from Wade. Thank god. He was starting to worry that he'd kiss him. Ewww. He would never kiss someone named ‘francis’ or ‘ajax’ for that matter. Wade didn't like soap in his mouth.

“Turn that off! Now! What did I tell you morons abo-” There was shouting on the other end of the line before a scream. Something along the lines of ‘He's here’

“Who!? Who's here?- Doesn't matter. Shut the whole place down! Hello? God damn it-” he switched a line, the loud blaring of the alarm drowning him out. “Angel! What's going on up there? Hello!?? Why the fuck do I even pay you guys? For what?”

On the other line, there was shuffling, boots, shouting, “Find him!-”

The look on Francis’ face was golden. His little slave trade was getting busted. And Wade was physically chained to his seat to watch, death glaring daggers at him with the smallest, smuggest smirk under his tape, breathing through his nose heavily.

“This isn't over yet. Don't you even dare think I'm finished here! You Will obey me!”

The moment he ran out of the room to go save his research (or possibly abandon it), A rumble came from the wall.

Claws.

What? No. He was hallucinating again. His mind was so cruel to him now. Starved, dehydrated and exhausted, mentally physically and emotionally, you name it.

Leaning his head back against the chair, he sighs, watching as an imaginary Wolverine came through the wall, panting, snarling, feral. Like an animal hunting its prey.

The amount of dust and mold that came from the wall was enough to make him cough, and in an instant, Logan was at his side, tearing through the chains.

Damn.. He'd have to give the imagination team some props upstairs. This seemed way too real. The way the red lights flashed over his eyes made him look so pissed, his frantic worry in those blue eyes, the struggle in his voice to keep from crying as his nose twitched. He was sniffing him...he didn't recognize him…

His mouth opened to mutter something.

What was he saying? ‘Oh- hey! Stop shaking me!’ Is what he wanted to say, only to realize that.. Hallucinations couldn't touch you.

His eyes widened, He had given up on being pretty but if that was the truth he wouldn't know how to survive. But he was anything but pretty right now, snot, tears, blood and piss covering him.

It was now that Logan yelled something, Directing some agents or.. police? It was hard to tell when He felt like the ground was trying to drag him down, gravity taking hold of him as he slouched over in the chair, still in too much pain to support himself.

“I need a code, Get me a collar code, NOW!” he read his lips, though, he could have Said “I saw an old get me a dollar cod now” but that didn't make much sense, Wade thought. Then again he wasn't thinking much at all right now.

When Logan finally ripped off both collars and all of the wiring/tubing, he looked like he would puke at the sight of him. Pushing his shoulders up against the back of the chair, his hands shaking, covered in blood and sweat, tears flooding his eyes.

Aw.. he didn't like seeing Logan cry. He was saying so many things, shouting at him angrily, hurt. Those big Atlantic eyes becoming a true ocean. A soft smile came to his bruised and busted lips, staring at him so fondly, sympathetic. He missed Logan.. he missed him so much that his eyes stung just from seeing him. His love was so heavy, weights he could never escape in a room full of quicksand.

Wade opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

“Wade! Answer me! What did you take? What did he give you!? Honey, look at me! Please! Tell me, tell me anything! Wade!-” he shakes him again.

“Tell me what you took, Wade look at me, Tell me what'd you take? Wilson!.. please.. talk to me. Answer me, Wade!” He shouts.

He flinches. Hard.

“Oh… sweetheart....What did he do to you..?” His voice cracks, bringing a hand up to caress his cheek but Wade's hand comes up to hit it away, trying to instinctively turn away into the chair, hiding. He looked so.. terrified. Like he didn't know who he was.

Something about this sends Logan into a rage, growling loudly and snarling towards the door where he ran off. He stands, hairs on his body raised, eyes glazed over with blind hatred.

Just before he runs to shred the man who did this to his husband, He grabs him.

Shaking from weakness and fear, in that chair sat a man he barely knew, eyes as blue as his own, blonde hair growing to look like a buzz cut. So thin. So weak. His neck was burned, his nose was bleeding down his chin, his lip joining in, his black eye almost swollen shut, deep yellow and purple bruising on his rib cage, hand prints on his throat, internal bleeding in his gut. He could tell by the smell of him. That and the massive pooling that shown on his stomach.

His fingers were gripping on Logan's shirt, and tight from the looks of it.

As tight as his remaining strength would let him.

The pleading look in his eye's begged him not to go. Begged him never to leave his side ever again. Such big eyes.. such desperation.. so much pain.

Grunting, Logan points to the door. “DON'T let him get away or I'm coming after YOU!” he growls, watching as all of the remaining soldiers run out the room, leaving Logan with Wade. And Wade with Logan.

No one else mattered now.

Sitting in front of him, Logan held his hands, suddenly panicking. “Wade!” He shouted, squeezing his hand. It was cold.

Where were they? Alaska? Canada? No.. not Canada. If this was Canada he would have to move to a new city and teach himself how to die, how to bury a memory as his life was burying his own with each passing moment.

“Wade? Stay with me. Come on, Just be strong a little longer! Please- You can't leave me again!!” He shouts at the top of his water filled lungs, but Wade can't see anything. He couldn't feel anything either except the cold concrete against his naked stomach as everything disappears.

Heh… funny.. the one time God answered his prayers… When he said he wished he could see Logan again before he died, he didn't mean this.

As did everyone eventually.. as Logan was destined to.

This wasn't how he wanted to go out but.. he was pretty sure that Fate had lost her patience with him.

And so.. that's it... that's the final bell. Close the curtains.. roll the credits.. This movie's over. No post credit scene.

Just…

The End

[plussizefantasia]

CozyTober Day 3: Chilly Fall Day

Eddie Munson x gf!reader

wc: ~ 0.9k

warnings: none

a/n: I haven't for Eddie in so long so forgive me if he's kind of ooc. Thanks for reading, if you liked the story reblog so more people can see it! I'll see y'all tomorrow for day 4!

You loved spending time with your boyfriend, honestly, you really couldn’t spend enough time with him in your opinion. Which means you need to take all the moments you get. Even if it means eating your lunch outside on an old picnic table while your breath clouds out in front of you. Eddie had offered you his jacket but you declined, you love Eddie with all your heart but he has no meat on his bones and you don’t want to be responsible for getting him sick especially because you’ll be the one who has to take care of him if he does.

It is quiet out here, peaceful. You don’t have to worry about Jason and his cronies. You don’t have to put up with the gossiping gaggle of cheerleaders and you definitely don’t have to breathe in the cloud of B.O. that seems to coat the whole cafeteria. It’s nice out here, fresh and relaxing. Well as relaxing as spending time with Eddie ever is.

Currently, he is ten minutes into a vivid explanation of his plan for the Hellfire Club session this week. He said he wants your input on some of the puzzles he’s going to use to trap the party and hold them in the labyrinth he had created. You’re lying with your back on the table, staring up into the sky. In the corner of your vision;  the yellows and oranges of the tall oak trees that boarded the school property dance and sway. And straight above you is the blank canvas of the sky. It looks dreary from this angle, grey and muted; a complete antithesis to the bright blues of only a month ago.

“Do you think a math question is too easy, babe? If it was just the old guys I wouldn’t be worried but that new kid Dustin is pretty smart he might be able to chew right through it.”

“I don’t know Eds how hard do you want the puzzle to be?” You ask. 

“Well, I don’t want them to get stuck forever and die ‘cause what the fun in that ya know? But I do want there to be some stakes.”

“What if you did a riddle? Like a really hard one. Maybe a Shakespeare reference? I can let you borrow some of my anthologies.” 

“Hmm, maybe. I don’t know I guess I’m just worried that the campaign is getting lame.”

“Why would it be lame?” You sit up and look at him raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know. But there was this one kid who came with the new guys. I think his name was Carl or something but he keeps ditching us for basketball practice and I’m like… am I not making it fun enough?”

“Eddie, baby. You’re an amazing dungeon master. Who cares what some freshman thinks of your campaign? Especially if he’s choosing to hang out with Jason in his free time, obviously he’s got issues.” You deadpan. You will not let some snot nose thirteen year old make Eddie feel like shit. 

“God babe you always know what to say to get my brain to stop going like ninety miles a second.” Eddie pops up from his own reclined position and leans into your space to plant a big wet kiss on your cheek, equally endearing as it is kind of gross.

“I know. It’s like my superpower.” You wiggle your fingers at your boyfriend and raise an eyebrow at him. You both fall into laughter. 

“You look nice with leaves in your hair.” He changes the subject.

“I have leaves in my hair?!” Your hands shoot up to the crown of your head and search for the offending foliage. You find three and rip them out with a ferocity not exactly warranted. 

Eddie, the bastard just sits there laughing at you and doing not a damn thing to help. A thought pops into your mind. You stand up and hop down from the bench. Your boots crunching the leaves where you land. 

Eddie, still occupied with laughing his stupid butt off doesn’t pick up on your plan for revenge. You bend over and scoop into your own arms, a pile of leaves from the ground. Turning abruptly and throwing them up into the air above Eddie. They rain down on him, covering his hair and shoulders, falling into his lap and even sticking to his socks. His laugh peters off at the same time yours erupts from your gut. 

Eddie tries to stop the smile from spreading across his face when he takes in your relaxed pose and the sound of your laughter. He stands up and raises an eyebrow at you. 

When you see the mischief on his face your laugh stops and you begin to take careful steps away from him. Eddie, not waiting a second longer practically launches himself from the table and onto the ground. Seconds later he has tackled you towards the ground, flipping the two of you at the last second so you land on his chest. 

One, or two seconds go by before you both start laughing once more, much calmer this time. You stare into each other's eyes and help to pick the leaves out of each other's hair. 

Yeah… spending time with Eddie really is your favorite thing.

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Hater? I hardly know her

Barbies: Dorlene x you (more so Marlene and you dating and Dorcas lusting from afar)

Word: 1.6k

Summary: Dorcas hates you and your girlfriend but is it actually hatred or just misspelled horniness

Warnings: YOU WEAR A SKIRT AND GREEN LACE UNDERWEAR no genital or gendered pronouns or words used though, you flash a crowd and shake ass, Marlene is Marlene, Dorcas is pissed you guys are so hot, you and Marlene are very comfy with pda, tabletop dancing, broom closet shenanigans, I sleepy I think that's it, definitely not inspired by Lunch by Billie I don't even know where you would get that idea from you're crazy you're acting crazy rn

Dorcas hated you. And your stupid girlfriend, Marlene. At first, she just thought you were both pretty and then she realized how fucking annoying you both were. Was it truly necessary for Marlene to flirt with her during quidditch practice? Did you really have to wink at her every time you made eye contact? Not to mention the fact that you two were so far down each other’s throats all the time she was shocked either of you knew it was day. She hated that you were both so attractive and knew it. You both needed the strongest serving of humbling she has ever prescribed. Dorcas decided that’s exactly what she would do, humble y’all bitch asses.

Every time Marlene flirted, Dorcas insulted her. As harsh as she could. She snarled at you every time you looked at her. However, this seemed to backfire. Her rudeness seemed to make you both like her more. Marlene was even more flirtatious and you tried multiple times to start a conversation with her. She hated the both of you with a strong passion.

You and Marlene picked up on her bad vibes. You both just assumed that you had done something wrong. Your attempts to rectify the problem only seemed to make it worse. Marlene wasn’t a quitter. She decided you all would become friends or more if it was the last thing she did.

With the latest quidditch win under the Slytherin’s belt, Dorcas was excited for the following party. Barty had triple her excitement, he loved parties. The crowd gave him attention, unlike his father, and booze. Barty also liked kissing his boyfriend in the dim lighting. Evan enjoyed parties in the way someone might enjoy baking; it’s nice every once in a while, gets tiresome if frequent, and you get a treat at the end. While he didn’t get a cookie at the end of every party he did get an extra cuddily Barty. Pandora enjoyed them less. They were quite loud and she preferred to stare out the giant glass wall to watch the fish. If Pandora’s enjoyment of parties was in the basement then Regulus’ enjoyment of parties was in hell. He hated them. Too loud, too many people, too much B.O., terrible music, and stupid people became stupider with alcohol. Normally within the first hour Regulus and Pandora had snuck off to the Black Lake, party be damned.

Dorcas was enjoying her time at their party, glad her hard work in practice paid off. She danced with Evan and Barty. There was a massive grin across her face. Until she heard cheers on the other side of the room. Not an odd thing, usually means someone did a fancy trick with their dancing or someone fell, but something about these cheers made her uneasy. Dorcas scanned the crowd, snagging on the two heads over the others. You and fucking Marlene. Dorcas was a hater through and through. As a verified hater, she knows if you want to do it right you have to see your victims’ highest point so you can bully them as it happens.

Dorcas left Barty and Evan, weeding through the crowd. Eventually, she was standing right up against the coffee table you and your girlfriend were dancing on. It was sickening how good you both looked. People shouldn’t be more attractive just because they were standing on a piece of furniture. Marlene was standing behind you, her hands traveling more than they should in such a public space. Your arms were stretched over Marlene’s shoulders, your back pressed to her chest with your head thrown back. One of Marlene’s hands was resting just under your belly button while the other was on the side of your neck. Marlene’s head was turned to your neck. All the while both your hips were moving with the beat.

Your position reminded Dorcas of a vampire and their lover who is also into biting. She snarled at the thought of you both enjoying this. As if she sensed her hatred, Marlene's eyes shot open, meeting Dorcas’ immediately. Dorcas clenched her jaw and tilted her head up. Dorcas saw a flash of Marlene’s grin pressed to your neck before she pulled back. You pulled away from each other, somehow dancing apart was more attractive than together. Dorcas didn’t think much while watching the both of you prance on top of your lofty 16-inch tall coffee table. Well not much other than ‘fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyou’.

With the new song, you both seemed to regain your lust for one another, meeting each other in the middle of the table. Your hands were grabbing and pulling each other, hitching the hems of clothing up just an inch. Dorcas wasn’t sure which one of you she hated more. Marlene with her band shirt and tight leather shorts. Or you with your stupid short skirt, and shirt that was very shirty. Dorcas was losing her vocabulary that’s how bad your dancing was, defentily wasn’t Marlene’s ass peaking out the bottom of her shorts.

Before Dorcas’ mind could catch each of your movements you were bending over right in front of her. Marlene flicked your skirt up, though it was already very revealing. Marlene leaned foreward and rested her elbows on your back before dropping one hand to sit in front of one elbow while her other hand held up her face. Marlene made a bored face while she shook back and forth from your hip movements. Dorcas wanted to be better than the boys cheering and screaming behind her but your ass was fully in her face. She glanced, not stared, fine she glanced for a long time. Dorcas commited the image to her memory.

You had on green lacey underwear. It made her eye twitch. Even worse, it was a little difficult to see with all the shaking but she noticed a slightly faded hickey to the left, and on the right side avoiding the hem of your underwear was her jersey number. Drawn around it were tiny little hearts that looked eerily similar to the ones she saw Marlene doodle on her page.

Unfortuentually Fortuneally, it ended quickly. Marlene stood up. She slapped your ass. Dorcas noticed how for a split second she squeezed it. You took this less as an offense and more as a signal, standing up and spinning around. You glanced down at Dorcas, winking at her before pulling Marlene in to you. You must've gotten bored with dancing because you jumped off the table. You helped Marlene get off the table before you both dissapeared into the crowd.

Dorcas returned to where she left Barty and Evan, finding them making out next to a wall. Dorcas gripped the back of Barty’s shirt, pulling him back. Barty whined. Dorcas sighed, slipping between the two of them.

“I just got flashed.” Evan groaned.

“Someone I know?” Evan asked. Dorcas shook her head.

“It unfortunately was a little hot.” She muttered, hoping it got drowned out by the music. Barty sloppily patted her shoulder in sympathy.

“The worst kind of flashing,” Barty said, a little too loud in Dorcas’ ear.

With the party slowly dragging on, she started to notice the lack of you and Marlene. Dorcas wanted to judge you vocally to your face how could she do that with you not here? She assumed you both left, maybe flashing a whole crowd was enough for one night. Dorcas watched in disappointment as a rowdy student flung a glass vase at the wall. She sighed as she left the commonroom to get a dustpan, already envisioning someone weilding a shard as a weapon. Dorcas swung the broom closet door open. She froze when she saw you and Marlene.

Marlene had your back pressed against the wall. Her lipstick was smeared across your mouth and neck. Dorcas glanced down. Marlene’s hand was shoved down your green underwear, the fabric bunching around Marelene’s wrist. Dorcas let out a deep sigh, ignoring you both staring at her. She reached around Marlene pulling out the broom and dustpan.

“You can join.” you whispered. Dorcas paused, slowly flickering her eyes to you. She thought about it more than she should’ve. A quiet moment passed before she quickly spoke up.

“Ew, no.”

“You sure? We can go to not a broom closet.” Marlene offered, her hand slowly slipping up to your belly button. Dorcas stared at you both.

“Are you guys serious?” She made a snarl but the more she thought of her jersey number on your right ass cheek and Marlene’s hands traveling on her body the more she started to lose her strength.

“Deadly.”

“No, I’m Marlene.” You smacked Marlene’s shoulder. Dorcas shivered at Marlene’s bad joke.

“You’re absolutely insane if you think I’d ever sleep with you dickheads, I do have a few standards.” Dorcas said, rolling her eyes. Marlene grinned at her. You stared at her with those stupid convincing puppy eyes.

“Would you join if we said pretty please with sugar on top?” Marlene asked. Dorcas reached out and bonked her on the head with the dustpan.

“Pretty please with sugar on top?” You flashed Dorcas your pretty smile that made her give you the answers to a test months ago. Dorcas stared up at the ceiling letting out the groanest groan of all time before meeting eyes with you both again.

“I’ll consider it.” Marlene quickly raised her hand for a high five, your skirt falling back down. You shook your head. Marlene switched hands, and you happily high-fived her.

”Hey Cassy, why did you-“ Barty paused as his head popped over the edge of the door. He looked between you three. You awkwardly waved. Dorcas patted his shoulder, handing him the broom and dustpan.

“We’ll talk. Soon.” Dorcas said, winking at you on her way out the door. She shut it behind herself, pushing Barty back towards the commonroom. Dorcas most definitely did not hear Marlene squeal as she left and she was most definitely not cut out for the hating business.

[soft-for-them]

Palm readings and tulips - Roman Godfrey x plus size reader

Summary: You and Roman are close, best friends even. You think he doesn't love you despite everything pointing to him loving you.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

A/N: Before writing this I hadn't watched Hemlock Grove since I was like fourteen so at this point in time I've only re-watched the first few episodes so the characters are probably way ooc. Not proof read.

-

Since turning eighteen, aka a legal adult, you’ve realised that you still don’t have the power to do much at all. You’re still learning to drive despite knowing that you won’t be able to afford the cost of a car on your own. You’re working part time and you’re still somehow waking up every morning to go to school which seems to never end.

Then there’s Roman.

Best friends since your family moved to Hemlock Grove when you were twelve, the promise of a job at the steel mill shattered as soon as you arrived leaving you to play outside alone whilst your parent(s) worked over jobs. Roman's always been generous with his disposable wealth when it comes to you because of your family situation.

Roman Godfrey with his fancy little red car always filled with fuel, his house always open to you when you don’t feel safe at home, his disregard for the price of anything, him choosing to always pay for your shopping the rare time he stalks around a shop with you when he’s not busy bedding other people. With a flick of a wrist he can get anything he wants no fake ID or drop of his prestigious name needed, though he does the latter one regardless, Roman Godfrey has the world at his feet.

Maybe that’s why you’re forever thinking up reasons why he’s still friends with you.

As you bang you head on your dull green locker, no one around the hallways to stop you doing so for most if not all the students have been killed in gruesome bloody ways only leaving the younger students and the less than savoury upper-classmen left. To think, if you didn’t have someone like Roman following you around like a shadow then you’d probably be mauled to death and left in a ditch somewhere.

What a lovely thought indeed.

Raising your head you look down the hall, only small clumps of people mulling around, a larger group of tall teens clad in baggy clothes huddled around some lockers probably looking at something indecent catching you attention.

“I am an adult for crying out loud.” you mutter to yourself as you check you book bag filled with heavy textbooks and your large novelty pencil case, “I should be out of this fucking town.”

Then a loud obnoxious laugh, one that sounds more like some exclaiming ‘HA!’ rather than a proper laugh echoes down the hallway reminding you that nothing good ever comes from such fake sound.

So with a reluctant sigh you mosey over to the group of boys, not caring that you look half dead in your oversized baseball jersey and baggy mom jeans, your bag clutched in your hands ready to use it as a weapon if need be.

“Alright fuckers what you looking at now?” you holler as you squish in between two towering boys who smell like B.O and dress like nul metal band rejects.

The best outcome is that they’re all ogling at a magazine of scantily clad women or huddled around a small screen of a phone looking at social media but no, sitting against a locker looking horrified is none other than Shelley Godfrey.

Her long faux hair droops over her entire face as she tries to look as small as possible, her long grey cardigan pooling on the dirtied checked floor of the hallway, her arms holding onto her speaking tablet with an inhuman clutch.

Your face turns stern, tired eyes showing how pissed off you are, the very small amount of power you have in this supernatural town bubbling up.

Most all the boys huddled around you both are way taller, a couple of the shorter ones plus size like you, so really you are outnumbered in every way including size. However, somehow the remaining gaggle of teenage boys who roam the school have an odd resect for you. Much like how Roman, when he’s not fucking someone or completely gone like he was never alive, they follow you around school like lost puppies finding you entertaining, your straightforward and sarcastic wit making you ‘one of the boys’.

That and you’re one of the very few teens who Roman hasn’t bedded, some of your classmates almost seeing you like a challenge for surely soon enough Roman will fuck you too. You’ve overheard them talk about you like this many times, too many for your liking and you have mixed feeling about how they see you. On one hand some people see this pretty young woman who must be next on Roman’s conquest whilst others see you as just ‘the fat girl’ and nothing else.

For once in your life you’d like to be seen as more than a piece of meat but you digress, you’d much rather have the respect of these teenagers than have their ogling eyes look you up and down like your either their next fuck or next bullying target.

 “What? Her wig was falling off, it’s funny (y/n).” one smiles thinking that you’re going to happily chuckle alone with them.

Honestly you feel too much like a mother goose sometimes, these greasy teenagers your rebellious goslings who think you’d laugh along with them at such cruelty.

“Oh! FUNNY LIKE BREAKING YOUR DICK!” you shout at the top of your lungs, everyone is a five mile radius knowing it’s you shouting out your secret knowledge.

No one other than you and the gaggle of lanky teens surrounding you know who you’re exactly talking about however everyone else will have a fun time trying to guess who ‘broke’ their dick and hopefully the humiliation will hammer it into their head not to mess with Shelley Godfrey again.

“Come on (y/n)!” one scoffs whilst another gives you a “not cool bro.” to no avail.

“Where’s your brother?” you ask in you softest voice as you crouch down to Shelley’s height ignoring the scattering boys who try to do damage control now that everyone, which isn’t a lot compared to the beginning of the year, has heard what you shouted.

Speak of the devil Roman appears out of nowhere crouching down beside you as you talk softly to Shelley.

“Where the fuck have you been rich boy?” you scoff as you turn your head to look at your childhood befriend.

“How did you know Tyler broke his dick?” Roman retorts back with a handsome smile.

You ignore him, instead you help Shelley up.

“I’m not a blushing virgin Rom-“ you smile up to Shelley silently nodding asking is she’s ok which gets you a smile back before looking back to Roman, “- me and his brother was in the middle of some things when that idiot fell in the shower screaming bloody murder ‘My dick’s broken, my dick’s broken!’.”

You were having fun too, it’s not that often that a hot guy genuinely takes an interest in you let alone a hot college type who can take your wondering mind off Roman Godfrey, but then his idiot younger brother had slipped whilst belting out pop tunes in the shower making everyone in the house hold privy to the fact he hurt his member.

It was quite easy sneaking out whilst his family crowded around the bathroom, though your thoughts where quickly back of Roman.

As of late all you’ve been thinking about is Roman, that and escaping Pennsylvania but mostly of Roman’s stupidly handsome face.

Him looking at you now with eyes so filled with emotion, most of which you can’t decipher makes you almost blush and fumble. However before you can blurt out your feelings for the guy who used to follow you around town whilst you caught bugs or explored the library instead of going home you offer your arm to Shelley stating you’re going to take her to her class.

Shelley takes your arm with a small smile, a faint glow of blue like a firefly radiating from under her fringe. Roman follows closely behind you protectively, his heart filling up with an emotion he hasn’t properly felt in his life.

Love.

Roman Godfrey, the most powerful person in school, the man who is your shadow, in love with you.

“He’s not happy with you (y/n).” Peter says between puffs of his cigarette the two of you sat at the front of his static home.

He offers the cigarette to you but you refuse it.

“He’s never happy with me lately.” you say not believing a word that comes from your lips, you don’t think Roman has ever be properly angry or disappointed in you, not really.

“You know that’s a lie.” Peter says nudging your arm as you stare off into the distance to the house upon the hill.

“Peter, don’t contradict yourself.” you hit his arm back.

Ever since Peter Rumancek moved here you’ve been spending more and more time with him, well not as much as Roman has but you’ve been spending more time with the shaggy haired man then at home.

“What I mean is that he's annoyed at you.” as Peter talks you lean you head down on his shoulder, the late afternoon slowly fading into sunset, the air around going cold.

“How so?” you ask looking up at him.

“Something about a brother and you helping his sister.”

“Ah, that.”

Sighing, nuzzling your face into Peter’s bicep you try to figure out how to explain to him the situation that you hadn’t even realised was a situation until now.

So you explain it to him. In as little words as possible you recount the story of having a one night stand with a classmate’s older brother and the ensuing hilarity that you used as leverage to help Shelley.

“He really likes you.” Peter says bringing his hand up to pat your head as you slump down more into his arm like it was a pillow on your bed.

“Of course he does Peter, we’ve been friends since we were twelve.”

You don’t want to really explain anything more to Peter because you know exactly what he’s trying to get out of you.

Surely someone like Roman can’t like you back, right?

And from that conversation sometime later the next week you find yourself sat awkwardly on a throw covered blue sofa, a decorative pillow on your lap and Peter by your side fully relaxed.

Destiny has been kind to you the half an hour you’ve been here, she’s offered you tea, told you embarrassing stories about Peter and genuinely been hospitable and nice however as she breaches the subject of why you’re here you start to feel nervous.

It was Peter’s idea, he had been the one to bring up Destiny’s palm readings and curtsey of Peter you’re getting the palm reading for free. You’re not some naive little girl any more so you can take whatever Destiny gives you. Unlike the bigots of the town who think Destiny is scamming people out of their money because she is Romani you’re hopeful that she can give you a good reading and get Peter off you back to boot for he has been trying to tell you that Roman like likes you all week.

But still you’re nervous and jittery.

Destiny asks for your hands which you reluctantly hold out.

“I know you’re probably really good at this-“ you begin as she cradles your hands, your palm upward facing, Destiny leaning over to look at them, “-but I don’t need you tell me if I’m going to have kids or if I’m going to rich.”

Your eyes flicker between her and Peter.

“That’s no entirely how this works.” Destiny grins as Peter touches your arms to try to calm you down, “Anyway from what Peter has told me we may only need to look at your heart line.”

“Heart line?”

“Love.”

“Oh! Yeah, love…” your face scrunches up in worry, “Sorry, I’m not saying you’re a fake or anything but I, well, I already know who I love already, I just haven’t done anything about it so I don’t need a reading for that.”

She smiles, the dimpled lines either side of her mouth appearing as she does, her eye sparkling with curiosity.

“Peter you should have brought her over sooner.” she says eyes trained on you, “Shall we begin then?”

You nod a quick yes.

She begins tracing your palms, her fingers light but slow as she figures out both your past and your future form just the curved line of your hands.

“This hand-” Destiny begins cradling your non dominant hand, “- this one show your past.”

Her manicured finger traces a long line slightly jagged and curved.

“You’ve been through a lot.” she states, not trying to get anything out of you but allowing you to speak if you want to, “I assume it’s to do with your family.”

Two hours later Peter's leading you out of Destiny’s flat, a promise to visit again as a friend promised to her, tear soaked tissues stuffed up your sleeves and Peter holding your hand as he leads you onto the street now bathed in yellowing streetlamp light.

“That was a lot.” you try to upbeat but all that comes from you lips is a solemn exhale, “Promise you won’t tell anyone about all that?”

He bumps his shoulder into yours, his hand squeezing yours in a silent ‘yes’.

“Not even the bit about twelve year old you falling in love with Roman?”

“Shut up.” you laugh as you knock your shoulder into his back playfully, “Now walk me home.”

The next day after Destiny’s palm reading you’re overthinking too much so much so you get a headache that can only be cured by taking a long mid-morning nap.

Thankfully it’s the weekend and you don’t have work but unthankfully as you groggily wake up from your impromptu nap you hear the tell tell signs of one Roman Godfrey lowering himself down on top of your crowded double bed, his nicely dressed frame clashing with the teddy bears and old granny floral sheets of the bed.

“You climb through my window or something?” you ask as you drag yourself up into a sitting position, ignoring the fact your face comes dangerously close to Roman’s.

“No one’s here (y/n) so I used the key underneath the front door mat.”

“Liar-” you joke as your rearrange your twisted t-shirt on your plush body, “-the key is under the pot Rom, you know, the one with the dead tulips.”

You both maybe siting side by side, you under the covers and him fully clothed, but you can see his growing smile on his smug face from the side of his face, mischief soon to come.

“What, stop smiling like that and spit it out.”

His smile grows into a clown like grin as he lets out a deep chuckle. He bends down to the side to pick something off the floor. On hand latches onto your leg anchoring him down as he bends down hanging his other arm off the bed, warmth rising in your face at the rather forward action.

He rises bringing, what at first you think is a wad of paper, up but as you look closer you see the paper is combined with translucent pink plastic in a cone shape holding flowers in place.

Flowers.

Not just any flowers but blood red tulips, much more vivid and alive than the ones that used to live by your front door. And they’re not some supermarket type flowers either, there’s no barcode stuck to the plastic or creasing on the paper from where they’ve been sitting in a pot with other bouquets of flowers. No, they’re big, new and most certainly handmade, so perfectly arranged that they must have cost too much, well too much for you anyway.

For Roman it probably was nothing at all, his wallet still filled with too much money.

You must be frozen in place for Roman, one hand still on your leg, passes over the bouquet of tulips.

“Who you got these for?” you ask.

“I don’t like seeing you sad.” he says leaning closer so your noses almost touch.

“I’m not sad.” you try to smile, your eyes flickering between the blood petals and his sharp mesmerising eyes.

“I saw you yesterday with Peter, you were crying.”

Despite there being a thin blanket separating your bare legs from his hands you can feel him stroke patterns near your knee.

“Then why didn’t you come over then? You know I’ll always have you.”

Your words come out wrong for you were trying to say that he’s always welcome in your home though you guess the growing bubbling feeling of love has impaired your mind just a bit.

As your eyes look at the flowers you miss the hungry, almost monstrous look flash in Roman’s eyes, his pupils going large. It takes all his strength not to grab you and kiss you all over making you his.

He won’t even tell you either that last night another classmate died, that he was trying to investigate it.

“I’m taking you out.” he demands.

“Ok.” you say feeling that you can't decline, the thought of it being a date pushed out your mind for Roman always seems to be spending money on you, “Let me get dressed first Rom.”

[urfavchaotichotmess]

What the slashers smell like :

Bo ;

He smells like cigarettes (menthol) , car oil and gasoline. the cheap gasoline smell, not the good one that makes your mouth water. On days he actually showers he’ll smell like the 3in1 body wash or very rarely irish spring soap bar.

Vincent ; {had help on this one 🧍🏻‍♀️ ngl }

wax of course because what else would he smell like, a musky smell mixed with sweat from slaving away in the basement & a lemon like smell. probably from the scent based waxes laying around.

Lester ;

he smells like animal blood, sweat BUT he uses deodorant he finds laying around so his B.O isn’t atrocious. you’d definitely give him a long hug though. he’s so precious i love his life.

Michael ;

he just straight up stinks. that’s my man and all and imma stand beside him but the homeboy just stinks. a whole can of bounce that ass. he probably has 16+ cavities built up over the years. he smells like a decaying body and pure shit.

Thomas/Bubba ;

they smell like flowers, meat and laundry detergent. i just know they’re clean. you cannot convince me that they aren’t the cleanest slashers in the history of slashing. chefs kiss.

Jason ;

mildew, dirt and fresh cut grass is what comes to my mind when i think about Jason. i just know his clothes are just full of that mildew scent. he probably don’t change his boxers either. love him tho

[whenishipiluxurycruiseit]

Random kind of funny thought

Kaito and conan cousins au

(In this au conan is a separate person, the b.o did not happen thus he is kudo conan, and the kuroba and kudo family does family reunions from time to time, shinichi is a fujimine (kudo yukikos maiden surname, thus he is from yukikos side of conans cousin) so fujimine shinichi, same story about being left alone by his parents since like a kid so he spends most of his time with the kudos.

Ages

Kaito and Shinichi - 17

Conan - 7

How kaito and shinichi met, when they were 10 and conan has just been born, shinichi was the designated babysitter of conan, he is conans fav cousin bc of that, and bc of conans birth, the kurobas visited the kudo manor with their 10 yr old son to let him see his newly born baby cousin but instead found the love of his life)

Kaito: conan

Conan: no

Kaito: what? I didnt even say anything!

Conan: no! I know u want me to be a wingman for u and shinichi niichan but no! Shinichi niichan is basically your cousin in law!

Kaito: why?! Dont you want the family to be even closer than ever? Also, in law! In laws can marry each other!

Conan: no! *Runs away*

Kaito: conaaaaan!!! *runs after him*

Shinichi: wow they get along so well :)

Yukiko and chikage: oh shin-chan if only you knew *sips tea*

Yuusaku: haha older brother ur son is a wimp, whys he using my son as a wingman when he can use other ways, did he forget shinichi is a detective trained by me?

Toichi: haha I dont know that kid, my son is a suave magician trained by me, i dont know where went wrong. (My son is a hopeless romantic.. well i havent taught him to woo someone yet so.. haa.. magic lessons will be halted for a while)

[octuscle]

Fuck man using this app whilst I'm currently so horny might be a mistake but please tell me this thing has a forced growth feature. I'm so bored of being small already I just want to become so fucking huge the only thing I can fit in is under wear, skin tight gym shorts at the most. I want my stench and B.O to instantly fill up a room and make lesser men fall to their knees.

I just wanna be forced to become a young insanely huge freakshow of a bodybuilder.

RIPPPPPP! In the middle of lunch, the seam of your jacket rips open across your back. The whole restaurant is looking at you. You barely look up from your plate, on which instead of a coq au vin there are now six boiled chicken breasts with rice. You struggle to free yourself from the shreds of your jacket without stopping to gulp down your food.

RIPPPPPP! Your biceps burst the sleeves of your shirt. With your mouth full, you mumble something like "sorry" and just rip the remnants of the sleeves off the rest of the shirt. You eat your food like a pig. The glass of Merlot is now a canister of protein shake. Your colleagues and business partners stare at you with open mouths. You pause for a moment and do a double biceps pose. Fuck, the bushes under your armpits stink like a horse stable. You take a deep breath and grin. PIIIIING! Two of your shirt buttons can no longer withstand your pectoral muscles as you inhale and fly through the air like projectiles. You stand up with difficulty, apologize again with your mouth full and spit food scraps around. On the way to the toilet, you let loose a huge protein fart. A quick look in the mirror… You can throw away the shirt. For the rest of lunch it must still hold out with torn sleeves and unbuttoned. While you first fart and then burp even louder, your boss comes in. Holds you a telling off, what that was for an impossible behavior on your part. He asks you to leave the restaurant discreetly through the back exit. And to report to him in the office tomorrow morning.You put your hand to your temple in an "Aye Sir". And you fart again as a farewell.

Your fancy Porsche convertible groans as you squeeze your body into the tight seat. Fuck, the car is much too small for you. The remnants of the clothes you're wearing on your body are much too small for you. You desperately need a change of clothes. In your gym there is a small corner where they sell fitness clothes. And the gym is nearby, so you drive the car there. The receptionist stares at you. This is actually a posh place for yuppies and influencers who want to keep fit. Not for the big lads like you. You ask if they have anything to wear in your size. The lady asks you if you speak English. You repeat your question with a heavy Russian accent.

The only thing they have here in your size are shorts that are frighteningly tight on your thighs. At least there are shoes and socks in size 14. You look good. You do another pose in front of the mirror. The passing visitors of the gym hold their noses. You smell your armpit again. Good honest pumper sweat. You want to go to the training area when you are asked for your membership card. You search for your wallet in the rags that used to be your suit pants. There it is. But Anatol Ivanovich is not a member here. Anatol is a member of Gold's Gym.

You love your Jeep Wrangler Rubicon. A car like you. Massive and bursting with power. And fortunately well ventilated for any passengers. As you roll into the parking lot in front of the gym, you and your car stick out. This is certainly a place for the big guys. But you're the biggest of them.

After the third set on the leg press, you take a deep breath. Yes, this is what a gym must smell like. Like burps. Like protein farts. Like sweat. Like testosterone. Just like you!

Found the pic of your new you @muscleaddictza

[lovelyiida]

If it's fine, may I request Todoroki and Iida (separate) X shy reader?

THIS IS LITERALLY SO CUTE! I kinda gushed when I saw this, even though I make a lot of Bakugo content at the moment, my favorites are Iida and Todoroki (depending on the day honestly).

HOW IIDA ACTS HAVING A SHY PARTNER is honestly so cute, I'd imagine that you'd be under his shoulder all the time.

even though having a boyfriend as the class president isn't really easy since you're so shy. sometimes random people would come up to you asking about your boyfriend.

which all you could do was stammer and stand around looking like an idiot trying to search for your boyfriend, hoping for him to save the day.

you guys are definitely the type of couple to go to a restaurant date together and when your order is wrong, your too shy to confront the waitress so you just sit and stare at the food.

"honey, if the food is wrong I can ask to take it back-"

"no, Iida please! I promise, it's fine-"

"no, I'm not gonna let you sit here and starve because your order is wrong, here's the waitress- excuse me!" Iida yells out, causing a couple of heads to turn.

you sink into the cushioned booth, sulking in embarrassment

"god..." you groaned quietly.

you watched your boyfriend through the small slit your made with your hands. you were covering your face in embarrassment of course.

"excuse me, my parter asked for no hot sauce on their dish, could you remake this please?" he says the words that you hate to say (that you would never even mutter to yourself) so easily.

the waitress apologized and quickly took the plate off the table and rushed into the kitchen to get it fixed.

"see? all better" he smiles, you roll your eyes and playfully mock his words which causes him to let out a laugh.

"if it wasn't for me you would be starving right now, show some respect." He says, you chuckle and mock his words once more, your hand rising above the table making it talk, mocking him even more.

"you love me, don't you?" he says, suddenly making your face heat up. shocked by his words you place your face deep within your hands again.

"yes...I do."

HOW TODOROKI ACTS HAVING A SHY PARTNER is nothing far from how he already acts.

since you're so shy, sometimes it feels as if the both of you just decide to exist together. you guys barely talk or show couple-like skin-ship. the both of you just exist around each other.

even though I would say that Todoroki has the same amount of shyness you have, his personality differentiates drastically.

one day, the both of you were talking in the hallway about some random conversation you were having on the phone last night. your shy smile present as you slightly rock your body back and forth.

"hey, L/n!" you hear a voice yell out.

looking over, you notice it's Denki. eyes blinking towards him, you show a polite smile towards him.

"hello Denki-"

your words were abruptly cut off by Denki putting his arm around your shoulders. "Hey, do you have today's homework by any chance? I was working out late at night and didn't get a chance to do it ha ha!" he chuckles out.

yeah, his B.O. was definitely a strong indicator that he wasn't lying.

"um, sorry Denki I can't give you my work this time. you copied it and didn't change the words around so I got in trouble-"

"oh c'mon!" Denki pleads, shaking your body roughly, making you grunt out uncomfortably. looking over you could see your boyfriend visibly upset.

"hey," Todoroki's voice cuts through Denki's whines sharply. Todoroki harshly pushes Denki's arms off your shoulder, a frown present on his face as his eyes pierce through Denki's soul.

"get your hands off them, the next time I won't be so nice, lets go L/n."

Todoroki grabs you by your hand and briskly walks away, looking down you blush at Todoroki's active display of affection.

Looking around, you notice people were seeing the both of you holding hands. eyes widening, your face grows hot and you look down to the ground.

soon the both of you stopped, finally raising your head you notice you’re in some random empty classroom. "are you alright?" he says, his tone still showing slight irritancy.

blinking, you nod furiously.

Todoroki let's out a deep sigh, the both of you began to awkwardly look around for a moment before looking down at each others hands.

the both of you jump, quickly unlacing your fingers from one another. a light blush dusting against Todoroki's cheeks.

you let out a nervous chuckle, "thank you Todorki."

Todoroki looks at you for a moment, letting out a soft smile he nods.

"no worries."

i think Iida's is a little shorter, so I apologize if it's not to your liking :(

⎯ lovelyiida ♥︎

[dsireland86]

Hello my fellow Culties,

Just jumping on here to give you a minor heads up. Due to all to all of the AMAZING requests, ideas, and sweet messages I've been getting in my request/inbox, I'm going to turn off requests for a bit until after the holidays so that I can get caught up. So many have been sooooo patient, sweet, kind, and so understanding about the lateness of their requests and I'm so appreciative and grateful.

Please don't think I'm ending the request/inbox and shutting it off indefinitely... I AM NOT! I live for writing for My Tumblr family and writing B.O. stories. It's my favorite escape. My message box will still be opened and you can reach me that way if you have something personal you want to share or talk about. I'm here..... and i love to listen and support my people who are going through it.

So, enjoy the holidays (I know this time of year is really hard for some and not enjoyable and to you and for that my heart is with you. I understand all too well) and think of some new ideas that you can shoot me in the new year.

I love you all, and wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!!

[priincebutt]

🤎

Please and thank you. xx

🤎 multiple kisses / kisses all over / kiss after kiss -- send a heart for a snippet!

Henry is not typically one to feel self-conscious in his skin. He may not be an Adonis like his boyfriend, but he’s still fit from years of horseback riding, walking David, and generally being an active human. 

It’s just that… since the move to Brooklyn, he’s started to notice an extra pound here and there, and he’s formed a little pudge of a tummy, most likely from so many carry out meals and so little time to make it to the riding stables since the one owned by an old polo team mate is outside of the city and quite the drive. And he doesn’t feel some time of way about this often, but tonight he’s frustrated. Frustrated because his favorite pair of jeans aren’t fitting the way he wants them to, and Alex is gone for a run and it just feels like the universe is trying to drop him a hint or something.

He’s standing in front of the long mirror in their closet when Alex returns home, sweaty and stinking like fresh morning sunlight and B.O. His curls are a mess and his cheeks are ruddy from exertion, and he’s still breathing heavy when he enters the bedroom and finds Henry staring at himself in the mirror, pants unbuttoned, fly unzipped, arms crossed over his bare chest and a pout prominently featured on his face.

“Hi love,” Alex greets him breathlessly. He approaches Henry and looks at him through the mirror, his arms encircling Henry’s waist from behind, his musky scent overtaking Henry’s senses. Henry wrinkles his nose and Alex smiles in return, nuzzling his nose into Henry’s neck, breathing deeply and exhaling hot breath against Henry’s skin.

“You should go shower,” Henry greets him, laughing as he squirms away from Alex’s sweaty embrace. 

Alex pouts and follows Henry as he retreats to the bed, shedding his jeans as he goes. “Am I not allowed to want a kiss from my fiance first?” He asks as he puckers his lips and follows Henry, who swats at him playfully and pretends to be offended despite deeply enjoying this game. Henry settles onto the edge of the bed and looks up at Alex, who frames his face with both of his large hands. They both settle and Alex presses a swift kiss to Henry’s forehead. “Not feeling the jeans?” he asks lightly as he gestures to the discarded article of clothing.

Alex doesn’t miss the cloud that passes over Henry’s face at the question, and he folds his arms across his chest as his eyes dart over to the pants then back to Alex. He sighs softly and shakes his head, not sure he will be able to vocalize how he’s feeling. “They don’t fit right,” he finally grouses, knowing he sounds like a petulant child who isn’t getting their way. There’s just something about outgrowing your favorite worn-in pair of jeans that’s distressing, though, and Henry is feeling this loss deeply. He looks away from Alex and worries at his lower lip with his teeth for a moment before casting wide, blue eyes back up at his fiance. “And I might be… feeling a little self conscious about that,” Henry admits sheepishly, as if there’s any reason to feel ashamed of his emotions.

Alex works through those words and Henry watches as worry furrows his brow, then sees his expression turn wicked in the span of seconds. “You have nothing to feel self-conscious about, baby.”

“Says the man who just came back from running on a Saturday morning,” Henry counters, eyebrows raising.

Alex kneels down, pressing himself between Henry’s legs and putting them closer to eye level. Henry’s hands come to rest on Alex’s shoulders, and despite him still being a sweaty, smelly mess, Henry can’t bring himself to complain. He wants Alex to be close to him, to prove to him he’s wrong and all the reasons why.

It’s like Alex can read his mind, because he traces his lips across Henry’s chest, following his collarbones as a guideline, and presses small, pointed kisses across his skin. “I love you exactly how you are, Henry,” Alex says vehemently. His dark eyes look up, searching Henry’s face, and Henry can feel the flush that heats his cheeks as he ducks his gaze and looks down between them, him in only his boxer briefs, Alex in his expensive running shorts. “And I’m going to prove it to you,” he mumbles against Henry’s pale skin as his lips trail lower, pressing against Henry’s stomach in a few different spots. His fingers encircle Henry’s waist, and he presses more kisses lower, along the waistband of Henry’s underwear, across from one hip to the other, a constellation of sweet, loving kisses that sear Henry’s skin lusciously.

His self-consciousness is forgotten in the way Alex’s lips worship him, and Henry’s fingers run through Alex’s damp curls, tugging at them as he sighs out his contentment from the contact.

“Now, are you going to come shower with me, or what?” Alex asks. He stands, and bends to kiss Henry’s lips teasingly, in a way that leaves him hot, bothered, and needing more.

[kylestfs]

I'm totally interested in the Nissan Sentra! It may not be the fanciest car on the lot, but it reminds me of the first car I was (or, my parents) ever able to afford when I first got my license nearly two decades ago. Call it the nostalgia factor, but that's the one I'll choose!

Oh wow! Look who just got their first car ever as a birthday gift for your sweet 20 🎂! after failing their drivers test twice like a typical bottom driver.

I mean, I don’t really know why you’d lie and say you got your first car two decades ago, but twinks aren’t really meant to be smart, nor are they known to be the best drivers, but I’m sure you’ll take care of it. It’s a small, compact and very cute car ! Just like you actually, it fits you very well. What I’m sure though is that it won’t smell the best inside, you do have some pretty bad gas and foot smell issues, but that’s totally fine, a cute little air freshener could help it all. Drive safe and go pick up your friends to go to starbies now!

Identity ;

Name : James

Age : Just freshly turned 20 ! Happy birthday, some people say your teenage years are over yet I still see you scrolling on TikTok all day, hanging out to Starbucks with your friends and sometimes skipping showers and brushing your teeth, and all the birthday cake you ate is definitely gonna do wonders to your gas…

IQ : 87, youre under average but still not so dumb. You can hold good conversations and be very sweet and understanding of others.

Personality : Fun, very nice and empathetic, a bit flamboyant and overall cute and friendly! It’s a pleasure to be around you, although you can get a little judgy with your friends, it’s just for fun!

Sexuality : 100% Homosexual. No questions here.

Body :

Body type : Twinky and skinny

Overall attractiveness : 10/10, or should I say overall cuteness! So adorable and cute.

Package size : 3 inches active, 1 inch soft. Although it isn’t big, you won’t really need it so it’s fine. At least it fits comfortably in your pants.

Rear end size : Small, a little flat but still cute and soft ! Your pants just don’t even cover it, it isn’t visible at all, which is kinda adorable as well!

Overall B.O : 6.5/10, You can definetly get a little sweaty when it’s hot as you live in Florida, and your dove deodorants don’t always hide the smell. Your pits can smell a bit like a sharp and salty sweat, while your feet will smell like melted butter. I’d say you smelliest area is definetly your feet, without speaking about your gas of course.

Gassiness : 9/10, Those Florida fast-foods you’re eating definetly have an effect on your gas…you fart a lot and can’t really control it. Thankfully they’re all mostly quiet puffs, but they still do smell of musty scrambled eggs and sulfur. You are embarrassed each time you let one out, but you also love the sensation of the hot steamy air escaping your little buns, and somewhat love to smell your own gas when you’re home alone. That’s just your little secret though.

Muscles : You’re quite bony, but it’s just so adorable and perfectly fits your friendly vibe, and I wouldn’t change that for anything!!

[adoremexxs]

Modern Hantengu Clone Headcanons

I’m procrastinating writing and I have SO many headcanons of these clones so I’m just going to share them. See if you can spot my favorite.

Sekido

Oh boy

I love him so much

He’s definitely the oldest of the “brothers” and I think everyone has honestly agreed with this

He’s 6’4

So, for facial features

I think Sekido has very sharp features

His jawline is as sharp as a knife

I think that his nose is more narrow and straight than his brothers

He has a mole under his right eye and a mole by his lips on the left side of his face

Perfect teeth

Takes great pride in his appearance because “first impressions matter” so he always dresses up when meeting someone important

sensitive skin, has to use expensive skin care brands and it makes him mad

Chest hair.

He doesn’t have a lot but he gets it waxed or if he doesn’t have time for a wax, he shaves it

Hates, hates smelling bad

If someone smells like B.O., he is offering deodorant to them

no shame at all

Keeps everything short besides his hair on his head

He considered cutting it once

Zohakuten’s haircut almost convinced him

He loves his beautiful locks though

He definitely is good at math and is majoring for business

If not business, he would become a politician

He likes cracking open a white claw and watching debates on the TV

In high school, he was on the debate team and in honors

He played football and did archery for his last two years

He also played soccer

Karaku and Urogi piss him off so much so he regularly goes to rage rooms

He smokes weed to calm down

Karaku introduced him to it

He goes to the gym regularly

He has an absolute dumptruck

Like it’s a level 3 gyatt

And huge thighs

He does not skip leg day

Meal preps

Can cook a 5 star meal

This makes Karaku and Urogi go over to his place to eat more than they should

He has a soft spot for cats

And Aizetsu

Aizetsu is his favorite sibling because he listens

Him and Karaku don’t get along because Karaku used to bring home slutty women and men and they would trash their house

Listens to rock

Def loves Three Days Grace and Slipknot

Doesn’t mind Odetari

Karaku made him listen

He loves GMFU by Odetari

Goes to cat cafes whenever stressed sometimes

He struggles with making friends, this showed in high school

He struggled a lot in making friends but Urogi and Karaku were extremely popular so they took him to events

Struggles with love life too

He’s so intimidating looking that he scared off most suitors

He’s just really shy and hoping to be loved

But at the same time, hates the idea of relationships

He doesn’t like being vulnerable

He just wants to be loved and not get hurt in the end

Wants 2-3 kids

Wants a daughter so he can spoil her

If he had a S/O, they would definitely get spoiled with gifts

Just please don’t break his heart

Karaku

Karaku, Karaku.

The second oldest

Also is 6’4

His facial features are a bit more feminine, his jawline is still sharp but his eyes are a bit softer

His nose is also perkier

LOVES spoiling himself

Invests in expensive hair products and skincare products

Has a morning and night routine

He also has little moles all over his body

Karaku’s face has 2 by his left eye and a 3 on his neck and one by his right ear

Gets a facial once a month

Absolutely no body hair anywhere

Besides legs and armpits

Had braces in high school and had to wear a retainer

Complained so much that Sekido whooped him

He likes taking care of his appearance but not the same way Sekido does

“It’s for the ladies and the men that want me!”

He models

Has been modeling since he was 17

Loves the attention he gets and the fans he has

Tried to convince the others to model too

It didn’t work

He takes amazing care of his body and works out with Sekido on the regular

Makes a competition on who can bench the most or squat the most

Spoiler, it’s Sekido

He played football in High School for his first two years

He partied a lot

And I mean a lot

Even hosted some

Sekido wasn’t happy

Him and Sekido have gotten into multiple fist fights and one time Karaku accidentally got so mad that he smashed a vodka bottle over Sekido’s head

Sekido had to go to the hospital after beating Karaku’s ass

Is in a lot of clubs and he honestly just shows up randomly to them

Listens to Odetari

“Look, don’t touch” is his anthem and as well as “Let me see ya move” by Lumi Athena

Loves Odetari and The Weeknd

Listens to Usher and Jacquees, literally any rapper known to man

He still partied and drinks a lot

It’s insane

If he spoils himself, he is spoiling his S/O with everything and as well as physical affection

They are his pfp on everything

Posts them regularly

He used to be a serial man whore and cheater

But they broke him out of it

Wants 3 kids

His favorite brother is Urogi

Aizetsu

Our precious boy, Aizetsu

6’3 and shy

He’s like a gentle giant

His nose is perky like Karaku’s and he has some freckles on his face

He doesn’t have that many moles

In fact

His skin is perfect

He has no moles on him

Aizetsu’s skin has a flare up during the summer sometimes and breaks out in the winter

So he has special skin care products

Karaku and Urogi tried to set Aizetsu up on many blind dates

Dated a popular cheerleader girl

She wanted to get with Karaku and Sekido

He was sad for days

Him and Urogi got matching hair cuts, they have short hair with their bangs in front

Doesn’t know how to take care of his hair

Karaku spoiled him for a month one time and bought him a facial, mani, pedi and took him to get his hair done

Aizetsu wears sweaters half the time

He has some muscle to him but his body is more lean and he gets bruised a lot

He has an lil dumpy too though

It’s all natural, baby

Sekido would worry about him all the time because Aizetsu doesn’t eat a lot

He cooks for his brothers sometimes and that’s it

Once Sekido yelled at him for not eating enough, he ate a bit more

Listens to Indie music, loves Steve Lacy and Faye Webster

Cries to “I know you” by Faye Webster

Me too tho king

Anyways

In high school, he played soccer and he was in the reading club

Like Sekido, he is an introvert

He struggles with making friends

His toxic high school girlfriend crushed his self esteem

Everyone used him to get to his brothers

So he is often excluded

He is also the middle child and the quietest out of all of them

Majoring in psychology

He suffers from depression

He doesn’t break down in front of his brothers

He cries late at night or in the shower

His S/O would have to be able to help him with his depression

Just give him physical affection and reassure him that you aren’t going to leave him

He wants 1-2 kids

He can’t handle dealing with his brothers all over again

Urogi

Urogiiiii

Youngest of the quadruplets

His nose is wider and perkier than the others and he has a mole by his left brow, left side of his face is a mole by his lips and then one of the other side of his lips

His body has them as well

Now he is jacked

He works out every day

He also is just insanely strong already

Loves, loves bird

He’s studying to be a veterinarian

He stands at 6’5, the tallest of the brothers

His birthday is actually a day later

He also almost died before he was born because his umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck

Party kid

He parties so much

Adrenaline junkie

“Life is too fun to be sitting on your butt and crying, Aizetsu!”

Loves, loves the zoo

He doesn’t know much about appearances

He doesn’t know how to take care of his hair

His teeth are absolutely perfect

His skin is somehow clear although he didn’t use anything

He uses St. Ives face wash

His skin never breaks out or flares up

Always had perfect skin

He doesn’t have chest hair but has a lot and I mean a lot of leg hair

He can’t cook

That’s why he goes over to Sekido’s

Him and Karaku are insanely close because they are alike

He did wrestling and soccer in highschool and still continues it in his college days

He did cut his hair

The long hair got in the way of wrestling so he cut it

It’s really wavy and his bangs are parted in the middle

He rarely ever ever gets mad

He’s really protective over Aizetsu, despite him being younger

gives his brothers bird facts all the time

Compares them to birds

Sekido is a cardinal and Aizetsu a blue jay

Karaku is a peacock and Urogi compares himself to a falcon

Has a lot of followers on tiktok and instagram because he posts bird videos and animal videos in general

The followers love them

has always been a ladies man

All the girls love him

It’s the charming personality of his and how sweet he is with animals

is supposed to be Karaku’s and Aizetsu’s wingman

He never talks bad about anyone unless they wronged his brothers

100% listens to Odetari with Karaku but mainly listens to hyper pop and rap and kpop

He loves his family a lot and is a big family oriented person

His S/O would have a lot of fun with him

He goes clubbing a lot but he won’t go without them

Its more fun with them there

He would also take them to work to show them his job

He books vacations to Africa to go on safaris

He’s a very fun and lovable partner

He wants 4 kids, he is praying quadruplets like him and his brothers

Zohakuten

Zohakuten is the youngest of the brothers obviously

He is 16

He’s 5’3, the shortest of them all

He’s intimidating to others and also really shy and reserved so no one really talks to him

Besides his bestie, Rui

Zohakuten is in band

He plays the drums

Has a drum set at home

Him and Rui are extremely close due to the fact that no one else likes to talk to him because he’s scary

Zohakuten is really into art too and draws on the regularly

Is known as the “Quiet Scary Kid”

He cut his hair short so he has his hair like Urogi’s and Aizetsu’s

His bangs parted in the middle and the rest of it being messy because he can’t take care of his hair either

Spends a lot of time drawing and drumming

He gets into fights regularly at school and it’s a surprise that he isn’t kicked out of band yet

He also plays soccer and it absolutely works in his favor because he scares people

He sometimes has brotherly bonding time with his brothers and go to the gym with them

He’s incredibly strong and it makes Karaku jealous because he had noodle arms when he was younger

Listens to Indie, Odetari, Hyperpop, Metal and basically everything

Depends on his mood

When he’s mad, he is blasting Metal

Has to use dermatologist products for his face

His favorite brothers are Sekido and Aizetsu

He sometimes plays minecraft and roblox with Urogi and Karaku

Karaku and Urogi sneak him into frat parties when they are not supposed to

He wears feathered purple earrings

He also wears a gold chain, he wears gold rings too

He loves gold

Like Urogi, his nose is wider and perky

It’s a bit more upturned than his brothers

Karaku has tried to wax Zohakuten’s eyebrows

Karaku got his ass beat

Karaku and Urogi come up with nicknames for Zohakuten

“Zo, Z, Zozo, Zoha, Zohaku, Haku, Ten, Zobo-“

“Shut the fuck up, you imbeciles.”

Rui is with him 95% of the time

He takes him everywhere because it’s basically his only friend

On Christmas, Karaku and Urogi got Zohakuten to dress up as an elf by promising to buy him a new dragon figure

Hates dating

Hates those cheesy couples in school that kiss each other in the hallways and basically have sex

Him and Senjuro lowkey hate each other

But that’s between them and stays between them because Senjuro is also Rui’s friend