F-List Horrorcows

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Originally a regular shitposter on /fit/, Myron Gaines was an aimless young lad who set everything else aside for a holy quest in search of aesthetics. However, his efforts and dedication were in vain due to lackluster genetics (the only thing that truly matters, as the wise lifters of /fit/ had told him many times) - Myron was a mere 5'11 with a weak jaw, and on top of that struggled with going ATG when doing skateboard squats. Years of sweat and toil in the gym had paid off, but Myron didn't see it that way. After spending too much time on /fit/ and misc he had come down with a nasty case of body dysmorphia and while others complimented his progress and impressive physique Myron doubted their sincerety. If anonymous bodybuilders on an anime-inspired imageboard told him he looked DYEL-tier then that must be the case - they wouldn't lie like that.

Myron decided to take the easy - and the only way out by injecting illegal sterons. Through contacts from underground weightlifting forums he managed to get a hold of 'Chunk'. Chunk was a simple man. He liked to pick heavy things up and put them down again. He was a big guy, for you and for Myron. Chunk made a living selling deadly designer drugs from the trunk of his car, a Honda Civic type R. Among said substances was Creatine Monohydrate. Myron had only heard whispers of this white powder, all of them warning people to stay away. Chunk repeated the internet's warnings and claimed a few grams of the stuff could kill a whale on the spot, but Myron was beyond his counsel at that point. He was a young man, reckless and with nothing to live for and the way he saw it, this was a leap of faith over the chasm separating him from Mt. Olympus where Zyzz dwelled after his demise. The effects were immediate - as soon as the first nanogram hit his bloodstream he felt an unnerving sensation surge through his body and he loud out a scream before everything went black and he collapsed against the cold, hard concrete of the parking lot.

He awoke some time later, in the middle of a deserted street. Cars were ablaze and craters littered the pavement. Myron absorbed the scene and was consumed by panic. Had he done this? Was it the creatine? Fear got the best of him and he fled the scene, running for his life despite knowing that cardio kills gains. When he stopped to catch his breath he noticed something eerie about his reflection in the window of a café - was that really him? The man looking back at him resembled Myron, but he seemed taller and more handsome. His jaw was wider, as was his shoulders. His eyes burned with resolve and his body looked as if it was a Greek statue come to life. It was like a fog had been lifted and the pieces began falling into place - at last he could truly see. He took a step back and swallowed before uttering his first words as a new man:

"I have become aesthetics, the achiever of gains."
 
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Valiant said:
Originally a regular shitposter on /fit/, Myron Gaines was an aimless young lad who set everything else aside for a holy quest in search of aesthetics. However, his efforts and dedication were in vain due to lackluster genetics (the only thing that truly matters, as the wise lifters of /fit/ had told him many times) - Myron was a mere 5'11 with a weak jaw, and on top of that struggled with going ATG when doing skateboard squats. Years of sweat and toil in the gym had paid off, but Myron didn't see it that way. After spending too much time on /fit/ and misc he had come down with a nasty case of body dysmorphia and while others complimented his progress and impressive physique Myron doubted their sincerety. If anonymous bodybuilders on an anime-inspired imageboard told him he looked DYEL-tier then that must be the case - they wouldn't lie like that.

Myron decided to take the easy - and the only way out by injecting illegal sterons. Through contacts from underground weightlifting forums he managed to get a hold of 'Chunk'. Chunk was a simple man. He liked to pick heavy things up and put them down again. He was a big guy, for you and for Myron. Chunk made a living selling deadly designer drugs from the trunk of his car, a Honda Civic type R. Among said substances was Creatine Monohydrate. Myron had only heard whispers of this white powder, all of them warning people to stay away. Chunk repeated the internet's warnings and claimed a few grams of the stuff could kill a whale on the spot, but Myron was beyond his counsel at that point. He was a young man, reckless and with nothing to live for and the way he saw it, this was a leap of faith over the chasm separating him from Mt. Olympus where Zyzz dwelled after his demise. The effects were immediate - as soon as the first nanogram hit his bloodstream he felt an unnerving sensation surge through his body and he loud out a scream before everything went black and he collapsed against the cold, hard concrete of the parking lot.

He awoke some time later, in the middle of a deserted street. Cars were ablaze and craters littered the pavement. Myron absorbed the scene and was consumed by panic. Had he done this? Was it the creatine? Fear got the best of him and he fled the scene, running for his life despite knowing that cardio kills gains. When he stopped to catch his breath he noticed something eerie about his reflection in the window of a café - was that really him? The man looking back at him resembled Myron, but he seemed taller and more handsome. His jaw was wider, as was his shoulders. His eyes burned with resolve and his body looked as if it was a Greek statue come to life. It was like a fog had been lifted and the pieces began falling into place - at last he could truly see. He took a step back and swallowed before uttering his first words as a new man:

"I have become aesthetics, the achiever of gains."
Click to expand...
I became more swole just by reading that
 
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Valiant said:
Originally a regular shitposter on /fit/, Myron Gaines was an aimless young lad who set everything else aside for a holy quest in search of aesthetics. However, his efforts and dedication were in vain due to lackluster genetics (the only thing that truly matters, as the wise lifters of /fit/ had told him many times) - Myron was a mere 5'11 with a weak jaw, and on top of that struggled with going ATG when doing skateboard squats. Years of sweat and toil in the gym had paid off, but Myron didn't see it that way. After spending too much time on /fit/ and misc he had come down with a nasty case of body dysmorphia and while others complimented his progress and impressive physique Myron doubted their sincerety. If anonymous bodybuilders on an anime-inspired imageboard told him he looked DYEL-tier then that must be the case - they wouldn't lie like that.

Myron decided to take the easy - and the only way out by injecting illegal sterons. Through contacts from underground weightlifting forums he managed to get a hold of 'Chunk'. Chunk was a simple man. He liked to pick heavy things up and put them down again. He was a big guy, for you and for Myron. Chunk made a living selling deadly designer drugs from the trunk of his car, a Honda Civic type R. Among said substances was Creatine Monohydrate. Myron had only heard whispers of this white powder, all of them warning people to stay away. Chunk repeated the internet's warnings and claimed a few grams of the stuff could kill a whale on the spot, but Myron was beyond his counsel at that point. He was a young man, reckless and with nothing to live for and the way he saw it, this was a leap of faith over the chasm separating him from Mt. Olympus where Zyzz dwelled after his demise. The effects were immediate - as soon as the first nanogram hit his bloodstream he felt an unnerving sensation surge through his body and he loud out a scream before everything went black and he collapsed against the cold, hard concrete of the parking lot.

He awoke some time later, in the middle of a deserted street. Cars were ablaze and craters littered the pavement. Myron absorbed the scene and was consumed by panic. Had he done this? Was it the creatine? Fear got the best of him and he fled the scene, running for his life despite knowing that cardio kills gains. When he stopped to catch his breath he noticed something eerie about his reflection in the window of a café - was that really him? The man looking back at him resembled Myron, but he seemed taller and more handsome. His jaw was wider, as was his shoulders. His eyes burned with resolve and his body looked as if it was a Greek statue come to life. It was like a fog had been lifted and the pieces began falling into place - at last he could truly see. He took a step back and swallowed before uttering his first words as a new man:

"I have become aesthetics, the achiever of gains."
Click to expand...
This is far better than any backstory i can ever come up with.

10/10 would roleplay with
 
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I used to browse F-List a lot two years back to find weird custom kinks and profiles. I still have the folder with the screencaps:
cum.jpg

brian griffin.jpg

DUMB PEOPLE.jpg

eyebrow.jpg

good boy.jpg

anime.jpg

anal.jpg

peter grf.jpg

Hi.jpg

Untitled1.jpg

vaginal.jpg

Untitled.jpg

bri.jpg

pistal.jpg
 
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I remember stumbling across one a long time ago, called (i think) "The Goddess of Filth". Had the look of an Egyptian goddess (think Isis, the goddess not the terrorist), with the ability to turn people into giant piles of shit and more. I cannot find the profile and i suspect it was deleted (so that's a lesson to you guys, archive everything).
 
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