Okay everyone, I am in desperate need of your help.
Both of my parents lost their jobs, and they are currently fighting with the unemployment office for their benefits. We are a family of four, including myself and my elderly grandmother, and we are at risk of homelessness. We have no food and I am begging for your help to feed my family. I am taking donations as well as writing, and editing commission, and am willing to negotiate other terms due to desperation. I will send commissions straight to you as a short form ghostwriter for the right price.
Commissions:
$5: 300 word minimum
$10: 600 word minimum
$15: 1000 word minimum
+$5 for each 300 words above 1000
Editing commissions are negotiable depending on the content and length:
$3 minimum
I am willing to do just about anything I’m so desperate, just negotiate with me.
I will write original fiction or fanfiction for donations, I’ve even got a stack of old poetry knee high. I’ve written TMNT fanfiction since I was like 12, have been highly focused on Obey me and Twisted Wonderland recently, and rewatched OHSHC and Criminal Minds. I am also actively following Miraculous Ladybug, and BNHA. This, of course, is not the only media I have consumed. Just ask and I’ll see if it’s something I’m familiar enough with to be of use to you. Smut is on the table, including but not limited to monster fucking and furry porn. Even a dollar would be doing me a great service. If you can’t help me monetarily, a reblogging would be greatly appreciated. Thank you all, I love you.
C*sh*pp: generoussublimety
My goal currently is $200 dollars to buy us groceries.
$0/200
chapter synopsis: Michael kills again. Luckily (or unluckily) for you, he seems to be saving the best for last.
chapter warnings: graphic depictions of violence and death, Michael being a mean bastard
Chapter One
Chapter Two
End of the Line | Michael Myers x Reader | Chapter Three
Sometime before Wendy’s hysterical wailing stopped and after the stench of bile dissolved into the background, Travis cut Ashley’s body down.
You shouldn’t touch her, Diane had warned him, but Travis insisted on it. He said he didn’t want to look at her eyes anymore.
You hug your knees against your chest and stare over at where Ashley lies face-down in a heap on the floor, a streak of blood mapping out the path where Travis dragged her by the armpits out of the dark red puddle, depositing her on dryer land, and you cannot say you blame him, not at all.
Ashley’s lids are not shut all the way. One of her eyes still peeks out from underneath long eyelashes, glazed-over and sightless, looking at nothing.
I’m sorry, you feel obliged to tell her out of courtesy; but you aren’t entirely sure what you are apologizing for, and the apology feels empty anyhow. Maybe Michael’s heartlessness is contagious.
Or maybe it is because every fiber of your lizard-brain is screaming in hopeful unison, better her than me. Better her than me. Better her than me.
The group sits now in a tight huddle on the floor at one corner of the dusty court. Travis holds Diane in his arms and stares blankly at the nearest basketball hoop. Diane clutches big handfuls of Travis’ shirt in both her slender hands and can’t seem to peel her eyes off of Ashley. Wendy, no longer sobbing, is the only one not sitting—instead she mills around aimlessly in front of the bleachers, pacing back and forth, following alongside the white out-of-bounds line. Sometimes, briefly, you turn and watch her pace.
Then you look away again and return to vigilantly scanning the unlit corners where the flashlights do not reach. You scan for movement; for an out-of-place shadow; for a shape creeping steadily closer.
Michael hasn’t left the room—not after what he did with Ashley’s body.
The new Osomatsu san announcement stated two things will come out in 2022 and 2023, which is a new anime and an 'animation' that'll be on theaters. Which one will come out first is unknown so we will have to wait for further confirmation.
It's rather vague if it means the 4th season but we will have to wait. Possibly a short or a full on movie.
1. "We can do it with our eyes closed if that's better for you."
While this was written to be rated E, fair warning that it was never intended to be the s*xiest thing you’ve ever read lmao. I am a weird person who likes to write weird fics.
I do have a ko-fi, since someone asked.
Showtime’s Over
Marvus Xoloto x AFAB!Reader | E | 3,891 words | N/SF/W- see full tag list on AO3.
___
It’s even louder backstage than Marvus’s stories would have you believe. Roadies trail behind celebs like lightning after thunder. They move, quick and active, their hands outstretched with bottles of water and papers to sign and whatever else their celebs may need. You’re merely a minor annoyance as you slalom through the b-list, barely a blip on their radar as teams of two and more flow around you at five times your pace.
Zebruh would be horrified at the brusque, indifferent hustle you make to one door in particular. Inscrutable to you though it is, the gossip passing you by is probably worth millions. But there’s nothing worth more to you right now than Marvus's company.
It’s just your luck that he keeps the door to his dressing room unlocked.
He’s ethereal in the soft glow of pink and purple LED lights; his painted face is given a flush you never knew it could have. And, you realize as he glances up, darker circles you never knew you needed to notice.
He notices you noticing him, and he winks.
All in all, there are worse ways to surprise Marvus and much better ways to spend your time than waiting around for him.
The soft susurrus of the door closing is nothing compared to how quiet the room becomes after it shuts. The ambient sounds from backstage- muffled conversation, snippets of music and laughter, honks and whoops- come to a sudden, startling halt. For a moment, you’re content to simply lean back against the door, lock it, and take Marvus in.
It’s late enough in the evening for him to already have lit his incense for his messiahs. Along with the lighting, this makes the air feel almost tangibly heavy. Trails of smoke linger like sentences half-formed beside and around him. Your own sentences, too, seem to shape only to leave you. His hair falls soft as the smoke around his shoulders, a strand tickling at his bare chest as he slouches in his stool. Slime drips off of the pie in his hand, missing his gilded paper plate and landing with a wet splat on his chest.
He smiles at you- “hey babe,”- before dragging his finger through the slime and sucking it off his finger. Signs of sleeplessness have left their bags haphazardly under his eyes like a cheap motel. And boy, do you have plans for that cheap motel metaphor.
“Damn, didn’t think I’d be putting on a whole ass 'nother show,” he says, chewing at his pinky nail with a lopsided smirk.
Then he winks at you, leaning back on his vanity to watch you walk forward to him, and the moment passes. “Busy?” you ask.
“My past, present, and muthafucking future,” he drawls, letting his eyes linger on your ankle, your thigh, your hip, and upwards, “is all kinds of busy-busy.”
Unbidden, you walk right up to him and place your hands on his thighs. Damn, is the incense hitting you already? All you can comprehend is him, him, him. His gaze heavy, his eyes dark with blown pupils (is that for you, or is he already buzzed?), and his mouth curved in a smile soft and sweet despite it all. His hair cascades down his shoulder. And his tits? Out. Hell yeah. Fuck.
As one of your hands latches onto his shoulder, you get to work settling down in his lap. He grabs you behind the thighs to balance you there while simultaneously pulling you closer to his chest. You finger his gold chains, running your fingers over the alternian letters that spell out suga as you lean in for the kiss. His mouth against yours is slow and languid, lips soft against yours in a slowly blooming smile, and teeth firm in a way that makes you want to grind down. Pavlov never accounted for anatomy, but Freud might have a thing or to say about the sharp and the soft of it.
“Sitting around half-dressed isn’t ‘busy,’“ you tease. “And hardly busy-busy. Unless you’re talking about getting busy, I don’t want to hear another word about it from you.”
“W.Y.M.?” He smiles as you place a kiss behind his ear, forming a dimple on his cheek so forceful it draws out crinkles around the corner of his eye. “Looking this good is a full-time fucking job. Can I do shit about self-evidence?” Full-time job indeed: from what you've heard, ground down into half-truths at the rumor mill, he’s had a long week. Hell, every week for Marvus is a long week. Song lyrics don’t write themselves, especially not in the middle of two concerts, a handful of interviews, his new album’s imminent release, and church. Among other things... Who could ever know what all Marvus gets up to in a week?
So to soften the blow, you seat yourself fully onto him. “Full-time jobs get benefits where I'm from, you know.” With deft fingers, you stroke up his jaw to push his hair behind his ear and kiss him in the places your fingers left behind. It’s not the first time you’ve straddled him. It’s not the first time you’ve straddled him before he’s gotten a wiggly. But this is the first time you’ve felt his grip tighten on your thighs as you started to grind.
“Um, benefits to be used at your discretion. You alright? Want me to stop?”
Instead of a response, he starts a slow nuzzling into the hollow of your throat, sighing and nipping lightly at your skin. He told you about this- the whole quadrant scent thing- but only vaguely. Maybe Marvus is just a weirdo with a scent kink. You aren’t here to judge! Either way, you give your best approximation of a purr through an appreciative hum, and he pulls you closer. Weirdo, meet weirder.
This isn’t exactly a yes or a no, so instead of stepping on the brakes you yield and enter his fucking round-about. God, does Marvus love his riddles when he’s in a mood. Well, you’ll figure it out. Supposedly, that’s half the fun of puzzles. You’re going to get you both killed from the centrifugal force, one of these days. Let it be known that Marvus knows full well you don’t have your Alternian license. This metaphor is getting away from you. Marvus is still nuzzling into your throat with little trills and tiny, vibrato coos.
Can’t say Marvus Puzzle Time was high on your list of sexy activities, but maybe you’ll enjoy the time spent cuddling instead. As long as he’s close, and as long as he’s him, it’s all Gucci.
“What’s the matter? Didn’t get your fill of attention yet?” Still, you can tell he’s not exactly having a normal one, so to counteract your words you start running your nails over his scalp. He groans and melts into your touch with a heavy sigh into your chest. “Marvus, Marvus!” you chant lowly, mimicking his crowd from earlier, and he chuckles before nipping you on the shoulder, the throat, the neck.
“Just...” he trails off as you brush his hair back from his face. “Not myself rn babe.”
“What do you mean?” You get off his lap, stand and spin him a bit on his stool before starting the process of gathering his hair up into a clip. “You’re always yourself.” With firm presses of your hands and with your feet planted firmly, you start to work some of the tension from his neck. “Believe it or not, you are a lot more than just the chill clown I come to hang out with backstage sometimes.”
“Yeah? You think just 'cause I let you backstage with me you got your know-how on what's all behind my wicked curtains?” He leans back into your touch to look up at you. You kiss him on the forehead.
“I do,” you say as you grab him by a horn for leverage and crack his neck for him. “You’re passionate,” you move his shoulders around in circles, removing tension from between the blades. “And you’re hard-working.” You kiss him on the crown of the head as you still. “A little moody and passive-aggressive when the mood strikes.” He snorts. “And you are rock hard from head to heel. Want to strip and let me help relieve some of the tension?”
“Tryna rub one out?” With this, he brings your hand from his shoulder to his waistband. “Might be better if you work from tha inside out.”
Slowly, you worm your hand under his boxer briefs- eggplant patterned, he must have somehow known you were coming- and trace the outline of his sheath. His hand twines up your arm as he leans his head into the hollow of your shoulder, kissing you in the crook of your elbow once before gripping you there and leaning his weight mostly back into you. Once, this might have made you nervous: not only are you delving fist first into alien anatomy, but you're doing so sexually and it's not working. But the air has changed. There's no heavy static of hasty sexuality, no heady arousal running through you. It's serene. Romantic, you might even say.
And utterly, incomprehensibly out of character for Marvus.
You know better than to ask if he's alright, so you do what he's asking you to do: you experience him. His bulge is still sheathed, so you get to experience his sheath in all its novelty. The skin here is yielding, oddly moist yet leathery like the leaves of a plant. Trailing your fingers down, you feel that his nook is wet, which at least accounts for the moistness. You sink in; he shudders and groans. God, you're thankful your mans has a wet ass pussy. You start crafting a greenhouse metaphor to follow your leaves simile when Marvus pulls your temple to his.
"Call me pinjest 'cause I been doing DIY's all week, babe," you can't quite see his face, but you can feel the lines of his tired smile pressed cheek to cheek with him like this.
"Yeah? Been going to Lowe's without me?"
"More like tha Caegar Tree," the two of you huff a small giggle. "Outcome still feels cheap-like, dig?"
"I don't dig that, actually," you're smiling for real now. "Let's bring you to Ikea at least." No recognition. "Uh, Grubkea?" Nothing. "Trollkea?" He hums, recognizing that particular portmanteau.
You recognize a tension spreading along his mouth and cheek: he's frowning. He traces a spiral against your temple before dragging you in closer.
"What am I feeling, babe?" he asks you, pushing a bit of his psychic energy against your brain matter. Experience tells you this is the polite way to chucklevoodoo someone: a flaming bag of shit on your porch to catch your attention rather than a battering ram to the door. Maybe it's not as scary and painful as being busted in on, but you can't say you like stepping in the shit all that much, either.
But you let him in regardless. Marvus is someone you care about and, well, sometimes you've got to deal with his messes. He may have his tricks but you've got your warm, human understanding.
The first thing that hits you is the searing headache. You wince and he goes "yeah," and you can't even begin to imagine why. Whether he's actually feeling this headache or your human brain just can't handle being man-handled by the Old One's horrible, black grip is hard for you to fathom. There's the fire.
Next thing that hits you is harder to explain. It's almost like pressure, almost as if you're expanding from the inside out. Tears spring to your eyes while tightness and bile grip your throat. Your fingers itch to find a hidden seam along your sternum, hoping to tear your ribcage open and let your heart beat unrestrained from the ribcage. Aaand there's the shit. You almost want to laugh; is Marvus really reclining and enjoying his slime pie and possibly attempting some really sad, pitiful masturbation all while feeling like this?
"What am I feeling?" he repeats.
"You're completely overwhelmed," you say, after a few breaths. "Or maybe anxious. Everyone feels it differently."
"Make it stop, then," he says.
"What am I, psychic? You make it stop. How would you calm me down?"
"Like this," he manually clenches his nook around your fingers in a simulacrum of orgasm, and at once, you realize you're still knuckle deep. This is so weird. "Or like dat," he thrusts his still-sheathed bulge at you. At least he still has his confidence.
Well, you may not be a psychic but you have your fair share of calming yourself down after a rough night on Alternia. God forbid you accidentally make unintended romantic overtures at your friends. Again.
Your shoulder is starting to ache; it's not easy standing behind him, knuckles to nook lips, even as you lean most of your weight against each other.
One deep breath in. Hold. Exhale. Truth be told, you were never really good at this until Konyyl taught you the secret. It's all in the hold. You think Marvus might appreciate the rhythm of it. In any case, you're better at this than at beat-boxing.
On the second round, Marvus catches on and joins you. Your senses are still conjoined; in some distant third person, you catch whiffs of your own shampoo and sweat, and a ghost of your own fingers sitting indifferently inside him.
Maybe it's this indifference, then, that's stuttering the progress. Hell, Marvus has always liked to be adored.
With soft lips, you press your mouth against the junction of his trapezius muscle and his neck as you slowly pull your fingers out of him. The whoosh of his steady exhale is a benediction as it stirs the hair against your sweaty temples. You press your mouth harder against him, opening your lips to scrape your teeth across his skin, pressing your tongue down to lick the dried sweat off of his skin. Someone hums low in their throat; maybe it's both of you. You spiral your fingers fondly around his sheath; finally, he's starting to loosen up. It's no hot-and-bothered, but you'll take a slowly simmering for now.
"Marvus," you say, less the adoring crowd this time and more the adoring matesprit. "Is it possible you just suck at masturbation?"
He laughs. "Damn, wouldn't that be i-fuckin'-ronic? Sex symbol laid low by his own wicked fingers."
"Sex symbol laid low by the pressure of a title he just gave himself five seconds ago," you reply, and he bites you playfully on the bicep.
He raps you on the temple, shifting in his seat and finally- finally- turning to face you. After rearranging his pots of paint and plugging his palmhusk in to charge, you sit your ass down on his vanity and pull him a little closer by tugging gently his necklace. You have no doubts; this vanity is still filthy. Not like it’s the first time you've left ass prints around his private rooms.
"Damn, you ain't listening to me anymore?" he says, leaning further in to kiss you. His tongue swipes against your lower lip before he pulls away again, mock offended. "What'd I say before, all that talk about self-evidence?"
"Sounds like a lot of pressure." He shrugs. "We can do it with our eyes closed if that's better for you," you say, talking over his scandalized gasp. "I won't peek, not even a little bit, I promise. Nothing's evident in the dark, let alone self-evident."
"Music is," he says, leaning back in for another kiss. "Sounds is."
"And that's who you are," you pull out of his reach as he tries to kiss you again, "grandmaster Xoloto."
You feel rather than hear his laugh as he shifts forward, hands on either side of your thighs as he leans in and pushes you against the mirror with nothing but his lips against yours.
"I like that title better for you anyway," you say between breaths. Lord, anything would be better than 'sex symbol Xoloto.' "No more shows, no more performances. Let's play a game instead." He nips at your jaw. Your mouth seems to run on without you; you're feeling chatty all of the sudden. Maybe you're still psychically linked after all. Chucklevoodoos always get you all kinds of fucked up. "Play chess with me. Show me some strategy. Meet me in the middle of the board."
"Been stuck at the edge for so long," he says, kissing along your neck, "think I forgot how to play."
"Mmm," you hum as he kisses you wetly at the junction of throat and jaw. "You're telling me Alternia's hottest slam artist can't come up with some creative solutions? Improvisations?"
He doesn't respond, choosing instead to push his hands up your shirt and palm your breasts. You sigh, pushing into the cool skin of his hands.
But! You are not so easily deterred. As his thumbs roughly tease and circle your nipples, you let your hands explore his vanity. As you grab your first of many experiments, Marvus bites you sharply on the neck. Your fist closes around the object and you let out a cutting hiss.
You push him back, feeling him suck off some of the blood before he pulls away, wiping at his lips as he meets your eyes. His pupils are so blown as to be almost completely black.
You smirk. It's a good start. If you can take this from boorish to boner, maybe you'll get a title of your own by the end of the night. Then you pull up his face-painting brush.
In truth, it didn't really matter what you grabbed; if you can't figure something out, Marvus will. For once, you're holding all of the pieces of the puzzle. And you can't wait to see how he puts them together.
You boop him on the nose with the bristles and he closes his eyes, smiling.
"Face is already painted," he says. You ignore him, trailing the brush down the tip of his nose and over his lips. His mouth opens slightly; his teeth are still stained slightly red from his drool mixed with your blood.
It's an enticing sight.
Without thinking about it, you grab him by the face and pinch his jaw open wider. His teeth glitter like forbidden gemstones as the stalactites and stalagmites of his mouth.
At this, you can tell Marvus isn't really used to people manhandling him. Trollhandling? His eyes momentarily go wide, glittering in a parody of excitement. In any case, he goes limp at your grasp, leaning his chin into your palm.
You brush over his lips, to the secret spot between his lower lip and his teeth. The brush dips lightly in his pink-tinted saliva, and you trail it down from his mouth over his chin, below, then down over his throat. His eyes flutter in the same rhythm of the pulse of his sheathe against your thigh.
All manner of shapes and patterns dry on his skin: hearts, diamonds, stripes, smiles, spirals.
Marvus, for his part, is content to drool over the hand that's holding him by the face.
"Haven't you ever heard not to drool on the hand that teases you?" you ask him.
He pulls his face from your grasp and wipes his mouth before he leans in and paints your skin with a different kind of brush. His tongue swipes shapes you can't quite make out against your neck, but your game is cut short as he kisses you once sweetly on the shoulder. Your legs are locked together like a jigsaw, yet still, Marvus brings your hand to the front of his pants. Through the fabric, you can feel that his bulge is still sheathed.
But- as you dip lower- you can feel that his nook is swollen and ready to go. Your own gives a pang of sympathy; Marvus is wound up but unable to snap.
It's possible you're thinking about this the wrong way. Time to turn the dial up to ten.
Your hands explore his vanity again, searching for... Ah! The bristles are distinct against the smooth plastic shaft. You may have found the one plastic item in this room, possibly all of Alternia.
Marvus has his head resting on your shoulder, so horny it made him sleepy.
But, as you turn the electric toothbrush on, his head snaps up with a bewildered expression.
"Damn, babe, I know my mouth's pretty but-" he shuts up quick as you pull your pants down and place the buzzing end of the toothbrush against your own clit.
"Join me at lowe's?" you say, half a question and half an invitation as you pull him forward with your hand behind his hip.
It takes a little maneuvering. Marvus seems to go still as he watches you arch your back and grind your clit against the toothbrush, and he leaves you breathless as he goes from his calculated nonchalance to getting the fuck down to business. He leans some of his weight against your thigh as he moves his sweats aside, and finally, you feel the press of his sheath along the crease of your thigh as his pleasure nub joins yours against the toothbrush.
You watch a shudder roll through him, from back to shoulder to scalp. He lets out this guttural groan that hits you low in your gut. When his eyes meet yours, his lids are so heavy that he looks like he can barely keep his eyes open.
Do they not have vibrators on Alternia or something? Then again, from what Marvus said earlier, he is a very bad fuckboy if he can't even masturbate properly, or well at all.
You're taken out of your thoughts when Marvus shifts the brush between you, pressing the entrance of his nook against yours. In this position, he steals the vibrations from you and all for himself, but it's all worth it as he lets out a pained moan and you feel his nook pulsate in orgasm against you. Even through the wet feeling of his genetic material gushing between you and sopping into his now ruined sweat pants, you aren't far behind. As you come down from orgasm, you find yourself held close to his chest, his hand stroking absently at your hair.
"Damn," he says. "If my teeth start to look fucked up, better know now I'm blaming that shizz on you."
"Get grills," you suggest. "I liked the way ruby looked in your mouth."
You expect to hear him laugh, and pull away to look at him when he doesn't.
Once you get a glimpse of him, though, Marvus is twirling the toothbrush around his fingers, looking smug.
He clicks the toothbrush back on, and his laugh and the buzzing become one and the same.
A/N: Long time, no post... I know, but I'm feeling better and even committed to writing more. I hope you like these short HCs 💖
🌞☀️MIRIO☀️🌞
He's enamored with your job
Goes to EVERY photoshoot
Hell, he helps out the photographers!
Makes them see his vision of your beauty, getting your angles down to a T.
Every photo he helps with contributes to him becoming a producer and making money on the side.
Any deal you get is usually negotiable to make more, and it's thanks to your cuppy-cake-snookums (😂) and his photographic advice.
Loves to give you a pep talk before every gig, always offers to help calm your nerves.
And always, and I mean always moisturizes you, takes pride in giving you that GLOW that will make you look stunning!
One reason could be because he doesn’t like anyone else touching you, and… you’re not wrong; however, it’s more to do with making sure no one catches you slipping and talking about how ashy you were in a photoshoot, lmao.
💚DEKU💚
He's such a nervous wreck but believes in you!
Knows you've wanted to be a model for a while and know that your looks are finally being admired; he always takes the time to remind you where you were and where you are now.
Praising your growth and admiring the woman that stands before him
Visits you on set when he can! He's usually busy, but when he's present, he's all in.
Sometimes you'll tease him by asking him how you look, knowing good, and damn well you look FIONE AF.
He'll get flustered at first, but with a pure smile, he'll say, "You look beautiful!"
Your heart will swoon, and when you get in front of the camera, you focus on looking at him, and he always stares in awe at how serious you take your job.
And the company actually encourages him to come more often because he makes you feel so comfortable!
🔷️DABI🔷️
A bragger by nature, hella proud, always attracted to you😈
Becomes a model with you and you guys get a bunch of brand deals.
Most times, you're a 2:1 deal, booked by the same industry, take on the same campaigns, strut on the runway. V good for your image.
Photographers love your chemistry and the energy you give to pictures when on set with him.
They usually interview yall together about how you met and what keeps you together.
Loves saying the corniest shit too. Dabi smugly answers, "She likes bad boys, and what can I say? I'm the baddest of boys."
You usually roll your eyes with a playful laugh, "Oh hush, stop trying to sound so cool."
Paparazzi can be a little invasive, sometimes asking about your romantic life or dig into family issues. And Dabi, living up to the name, will flip them off without apology, and it resorts to a weak-ass scandal that doesn’t last more than two days.
Your fans appreciate how he sticks up for your privacy and only praises him for doing the chivalrous thing.
His devotion to you speaks volumes, and you do everything you can just to give that back to him.
You’ve been rated #1 in every Top 50 hottest couples in every magazine imaginable~
💥BAKUGOU💥
He's your personal bodyguard
Goes to EVERY photoshoot and meeting, helps settle your deals, and gets you the best payout for each gig.
A true businessman with the temperament of a chihuahua
He loves to watch you pose, how you smile, and frame your body to fit the camera angles
He's extra protective if the photographer acts like a bloodthirsty pervert, trying to get you to strip more than the photoshoot requests
Luckily you don't lose opportunities because his name rings bells and whoever wrongs you will get reprimanded and never heard from the industry again. And most definitely, someone will get their ass beat if they fuck up your hair. You won't even have to lift a finger on anyone trying to belittle you.
Very impressed with how classy you handle yourself when these problems arise, making him love and respect you more.
🌋KIRISHIMA🌋
He adores you and your work. He can see why you bag a lot of gigs because you have that "It" Factor.
So stunning and alluring without even trying
Loves to tell his friends about you,
"Wow, my girlfriend is so cool! Plus, we travel all over the world!"
You guys are recognized as celebrities no matter where you go; the headlines are usually "The Manly Hero and his Magnificently Melanated Model," They lay it on hella thick, lmao.
But you don't mind, you receive a lot of fan mail with different flavored KitKats in them, and it's all out of love, they always write, "I'm glad you live here" and "I want to see you on TV more!" And it all warms your heart, along with his.
When in public, people are very respectful and ask if they can take pictures with you and maybe even ask for modeling tips
All of it makes Kiri feel warm, knowing that his fans adore you!
He's just happy to see you, whether at work, at home, or showing you off in public.
Unlike other Osomatsu-san related material, the English dub is particularly hard to come across due to the digital copies not being available for purchase in many countries nor it being available in streaming services such as Crunchyroll. These are resources for fans to be able to check it out before buying the (rather pricy) blu-ray set!
These are in 720x570, which is to mean, not exactly HD, but it was needed for storage purposes. The reason not all episodes are already available is because those aren’t actually ripped from the blu-ray discs, as I don’t own a software that can break the encryption. Rather, they’re high quality recordings of the blu-ray audio that is then synced to the video of the Japanese blu-ray discs. Putting them together takes a little bit of time, but I’m surely making my way through these and all episodes (2 to 25, as episode 1 was banned in Japan and therefore not dubbed) will be available soon! This post will be updated regularly as the remaining episodes are uploaded.
Dailymotion Links
(please note that, unlike YouTube, Dailymotion doesn’t have a “hidden” video option, so you’ll have to enter a password to watch these. The password is dayon !)
Ep. 2
Ep. 3
Ep. 3.5
Ep. 4
Ep. 5
Ep. 6
Ep. 7
Ep. 8
Ep. 9
Ep. 10
Google Drіve Folders (Downloadable!)
Eps. 2 - 15
All Episodes
Ep. 2
Ep. 3
Ep. 3.5
Ep. 4
Ep. 5
Ep. 6
Ep. 7
Ep. 8
Ep. 9
Ep. 10
Eps. 15 - 25
Coming soon!
To come:
All episodes in both platforms
Torrent file with all (Ep. 2 to 25) episodes in HD (720x1080)
MEGA folder with all (Ep. 2 to 25) episodes in HD (720x1080)
Like the title says. Pairings are specified, as are additional warnings and titles. Be advised that yes, these are all NSFW (even if only for suggestive test euphoria), and yes, all do contain–at least on some level–robot lovins under the cut.
the iconic "no plans" was swapped with something else and some other stuff probably got swapped around for localization stuff.
but the jokes they replaced them with are equally funny!! i really like that they uncensored osomatsu's vulgarity at nyaachan. ive been wondering for years what he said under all those censors...
the iconic "no plans" was swapped with something else and some other stuff probably got swapped around for localization stuff.
but the jokes they replaced them with are equally funny!! i really like that they uncensored osomatsu's vulgarity at nyaachan. ive been wondering for years what he said under all those censors...
The oso dub is available digitally now! They haven’t made much of an announcement yet, but the links are all available through this post. They may be waiting to officially announce it when it’s on a streaming service, most likely Hulu, but for now they’re out early here.
There’s a HUGE price variation on the buying options. $60 on amazon, $40 on itunes, and $30 on google play and vudu.
