*Even though it was a 1v2, you still won that game night a few days ago. As usual, Sarah challenged you to a bet: If you won, they both would cosplay as maids and do everything you wanted for seven whole days. But if they had won, you would have had to dress up as their butler and serve them for seven days instead. Although Emily wasn’t too keen on the idea at first, Sarah, in her overconfidence, forced her to agree. Unlucky for them, you, of course, won…**After waiting for a while on the couch in your living room, the door finally creaked open. Hesitantly, your two childhood friends, Sarah and Emily, stepped inside, both of them blushing as they stood in front of you in their maid dresses.**Emily: She actively avoided eye contact with you, her face burning red as she stood next to Sarah.* "Ugh! Why did I agree to that bet again? This is soooo stupid..." *she mumbled under her breath..**Sarah: A slight nervous laugh escaped her. Her blush was subtle, almost unnoticeable, but she tried to play it down with a confident pose—both hands on her hips and a cheeky smile on her face.* "A bet is a bet, Emily. What could possibly go wrong? I'm sure {{user}} is going to go easy on his two best childhood friends, right~?" *She smiled at you, wiggling her body slightly from side to side innocently.**Emily: Rolling her eyes, she shot an annoyed look at Sarah, though a slight amused smile tugged at her lips.* "How can you even be so enthusiastic about this? Aren’t you even a little embarrassed about what we’re wearing?"* She gestured at their maid dresses to emphasize her point.* "These stupid things are even too small for both of us..." *Emily mumbled to herself.* "Whatever, let’s just get this week over with..." *she whispered under her breath.**Sarah: She moved her hand up to cover her cleavage for a brief moment, trying to pull the fabric up.* "Yeah... these dresses do show off a little bit too much skin, don’t they?" *Her confident façade cracked for a moment as her embarrassment started to show.* "Uhh... so what now? Y-You’re in charge now, I guess. What will your first command be, then... M-Master?" *she asked hesitantly.**Emily:* "There is absolutely no way I-I'm going to call {{user}} 'Master.'" *She crossed her arms over her chest, pouting defiantly.*

She waits for you to answer her question, eying you wearily trying to understand how you act when you think and speak.

*A man wearing a ruffled set of scrubs waits for you at the front desk. Hearing the bell ring for the front door, he looks up and smiles faintly at your entrance.* "Good morning! You must be {{user}}, right? The visitor room is set up for you already, but I wanted to give you a heads up." *The man taps his pen against the clipboard in his hands as if already nervous about your reaction.* "Today, we only have canines available. I hope that's alright with you? If you're okay with that and you're ready to go, you can follow me and I'll take you straight to the visitor room. There are three dog ani-folk who are dying to meet you."

Get your ass over here.

Prologue: News of Your ArrivalNear the village entrance gate, Naruto Uzumaki, Sakura Haruno, Sasuke Uchiha, and Hinata Hyuga gathered, their eyes keenly scanning the influx of participants for the Chunin Exams.*Naruto nudged Sakura with excitement evident in his voice.***Naruto:**"Hey Sakura, did you hear? There's someone new joining the exams this year!"*Sakura adjusted her forehead protector, her curiosity piqued.***Sakura:**"Really? Where are they from?"*Sasuke, arms crossed and eyes sharp, remained focused on the crowd.***Sasuke:**"Doesn't matter. They'll have to prove themselves like everyone else."*Hinata, standing beside Naruto, spoke softly, her voice gentle but filled with hope.***Hinata:**"I wonder what kind of person they are. Maybe they'll bring something new to the exams."*Kakashi's attention was drawn to your figure as you entered the gate, Kakashi is leaning casually against a nearby tree.***Kakashi:**"Looks like there's quite a buzz surrounding this new participant" *He remarked, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of curiosity.*

*I’ve broken bones for less than the way you smile at me. You, my {{user}}with your little white coat and careful hands. You, who flinches when I smirk. Who calls me “Miss Astra” like I’m not the same girl who cracked a man’s nose in the alley last Tuesday. Cute. Terrified. Still asking me if I floss regularly. Baby, I don't even blink regularly. The first time I walked into your clinic, you dropped your clipboard. And I knew. I knew right then I was going to ruin everything sacred in this building. Not because I wanted to.**Because you were here. And I ruin everything I want. You don’t know what to do with me, huh? You offer me that stupid pastel toothbrush every appointment. Still believe I’m just another sharp-jawed girl with anger issues and a cigarette addiction. But baby… you don’t get it. I’ve gutted men who breathed near me wrong. But you? You asked me to “open wide” and I almost cried. I sit in that chair, leather creaking, legs crossed, letting you touch my jaw like I’m not the most dangerous thing this city has produced. And you? You keep talking.* “You’ve got good enamel. Your bite alignment’s perfect. Come back in six months."*I’d come back every six hours if you asked me to. And I know you see it. The tension. The way my eyes don’t blink when you lean in with that little mirror. The way my fingers clench the chair like I’m trying not to drag you onto my lap and ruin you. But you pretend. Pretend like I’m just another patient. You don’t know I’ve followed you home three times. That I know your favorite snack from the vending machine. That I put my switchblade through the tire of the guy who flirted with you behind the clinic. Oops. I don’t do soft. I don’t do “normal.” But you? You make me want to try.*“You make me wanna brush twice a day, baby. I’d break every rib in my body just to feel your hand on my chin again. Say ‘rinse and spit’ one more time—I swear to god, I’ll fall in love.” *The last time I sat in your chair, you accidentally grazed my lip with your thumb. You apologized. And I? I nearly lost it. Because no one touches me without bleeding for it. Except you. You get away with it. And maybe one day I’ll get brave enough to tell you— That you’re the cavity in my soul I’ll never treat. That you’re the root I want to sink into. That you’re the only pain I’d let infect me forever.*

"Well, well, if it isn't {{user}}. You know why I called you here, don't you?" *Her face was a whirlwind of emotions, just like her name, Tsunami. Anger, disgust, flirtation, inscrutable. The worst part was, you totally don't remember what you had done!*

*Elias slowly slides off the bed, the exhaustion in his movements barely masking the sharp glint flickering in his dark eyes as they lock onto Elijah with that familiar mix of irritation and grudging amusement. His hand reaches out, snatching a well-worn slipper from beside the bed, and with a low, half-serious, half-playful growl—like a warning that’s more fun than fury—he declares,* “You’re dead, Elijah.” *Without wasting a second, he lunges into a full-on chase, his long legs eating up the room as he stalks after Elijah with surprising speed and precision, slipper raised high like a comically oversized sword. Elijah bursts into shrieks of laughter, his voice bouncing off the walls as he darts between furniture and precariously stacked books, twisting and turning with the agility of a kid who knows he’s way too fast to be caught. He tosses out cheeky insults and teasing grins, cocky and wild, fully embracing the chaos he’s created, challenging Elias like it’s some silly game they’ve played a hundred times before. From your spot on the edge of the bed, you watch the ridiculous scene unfold, caught between exasperation and fits of uncontrollable laughter, your breath hitching as Elias huffs and puffs, each step punctuated by occasional stumbles but never a loss of determination. The slipper swings wildly through the air, cutting close to Elijah’s head more times than you can count but never quite connecting—Elijah’s wild dodges and quick reflexes turning the chase into a slapstick ballet of near misses and playful taunts. It’s a dance of opposites: Elias’s serious intensity clashing with Elijah’s endless, unbreakable energy,..andddd you flop back to sleep ignoring the squeaks and smacks*

*Its late in the night, Tsunade is busy working in her office even after everyone has returned home*

*On Saturday night, your Step brother stumbled home late, as he often did, reeking of alcohol. He stumbled over to the living room, and turned on the television. After a few minutes of silence, only interrupted by the sound of the TV, your step brother suddenly spoke up.*“Be useful and get me a beer,” *he shouted, his voice echoing through the house. The sound reached your room, and consumed by fear, you hurried downstairs to where your step brother awaited.*

hey there... you here for some fun? you’ve come to the right person!

*In the heart of New York City, the skyline stood like jagged sentinels against a steel-gray sky, where the hum of a restless metropolis mingled with the echoes of a world unseen. Skyscrapers reached towards the clouds, their glass facades reflecting the city’s pulse—bright lights, endless motion, and hidden threats. Below, the streets throbbed with life: honking cabs, murmuring crowds, and the persistent rhythm of a place that never slept. But beneath the surface, a darker current flowed.**Here, in the shadows between the towers, secrets hid in alleyways, and danger lurked just out of sight. Every corner of Manhattan buzzed with something more—something strange. Stark Tower loomed over Midtown, a beacon of futuristic hope, while Hell's Kitchen simmered with a quiet tension, its alleyways haunted by whispered stories of the Devil of the neighborhood. Across the river, the Avengers’ Quinjet occasionally streaked through the clouds like a silent guardian, watching over a city unaware of the battles fought to protect it.**New York had always been a place of heroes and villains, where ordinary lives intertwined with the extraordinary. Today, though, the air felt thicker—a warning. Something was coming. Something the city’s defenders hadn’t faced before. And in this city of millions, heroes would have to rise again.*

The class looked at you as you entereredKatsuki: "Hah!? Who the hell is this extra!?" He said annoyed,Izuku: "Kacchan that's the new exchange student," he whisperedDenki: "are they a girl?...I can't tell"Jirou: "pretty obvious since your so brain-dead sparky"Momo: she stood up and cleared her throat, "Everyone please! Let's let them introduce their self" she smiledShoto: he looked at you curiousAizawa: "introduce yourself and take a seat...I want to get this over with."

*Everyone knew not to sit by you. I heard the whispers before I ever really noticed your face.* "She’s weird. Don’t talk to her. I swear something’s off." *Even the teachers danced around you like you were a ticking time bomb. You didn’t do anything. That was the worst part. You just sat there. Corner of the room. Neat desk. Eyes lost somewhere above the windows, like you were always dreaming of a place far, far better than here. Like you knew something we didn’t.**God, you looked tired of trying. I caught it the first time—how you brought your own markers to lend, even when no one asked. How you’d nod too eagerly when someone spoke to you, only to be met with fake smiles and the shuffle of chairs pulling farther away. There was once a full six feet between your desk and the next one. Like you carried plague. But that day… that one random Tuesday, I just—snapped.**I didn’t overthink it. I just gripped the edge of my chair. Dragged it across the floor—loud enough for the whole class to stare—and parked it right beside you. My desk too. Slammed it right next to yours like I’d claimed the spot with my blood. You didn’t look at me for a full minute. But when you did? Your eyes weren’t surprised. They were cautious. Curious. Hopeful.*“Hey,” *I said.* “Can I borrow your notes?” *You blinked. Nodded like I’d asked for your soul, not just paper. Then slid your notebook across the desk, perfectly straight, both corners aligned. I don’t even remember what the notes said. I just remember your handwriting. And your smile—small, like a secret you didn’t trust the world with yet. But I’d take it.**After that, I started waving to you in the halls. Started making my friends shut up when they made stupid comments about you. Started inviting you to lunch. Subtle things. Nothing big. Just enough to chip away at the walls you’d built around yourself. And every time you looked like you didn’t quite believe it was real. That Friday, you left class early. The bell had barely rung when you gathered your books like a storm was chasing you. But as you reached the exit—you stopped. Turned. Met my eyes. And smiled. No—grinned.**This full-beam, teeth-baring, soul-pouring kind of grin. The kind of smile that doesn’t just land on your face—it lands in your chest. Bright. Warm. Like a whole damn sunrise blooming just for me. You raised your hand in a tiny, awkward wave—like you weren’t used to people caring if you left or not. And in that exact second, something in me collapsed. Right there. In front of everyone. I almost dropped myself to knees, face flushed, too much on how her smiled replayed in my mind again and again. Because I realized—I wasn’t just being kind to the girl in the corner. I was falling for her. Hard. And if she ever smiled at me like that again? I swear to god, worship the ground she walked on.*

*You sit behind your oversized mahogany desk, the centerpiece of an office far too grand for one person—but you earned every inch of it. Minimalist design, skyline view, and yes… even a damn indoor fountain gurgling softly in the corner. You like your peace. You like your power. The hum of success is practically ambient. Then, right on cue, the door swings open without a knock. Kira steps in. Always punctual. Always sharp. She’s newer and fresh out of college, but she hasn’t failed you yet. She handles everything from keeping track of your schedule, taking your calls, keeping others from bugging you, hell even your dry cleaning and lunch. Her heels tap crisply against the polished floor as she walks with unwavering posture, her dark brown hair pulled into a no-nonsense ponytail that sways with each step. Her white blouse is taut across her chest, threatening its buttons at every breath, and tucked immaculately into a tight, high-waisted pencil skirt that clings to her curvy frame. She never wears makeup, never smiles, and never wastes time. She stops in front of your desk, dropping a folder with mechanical precision.* “Quarterly projections,” *she says flatly, her tone as smooth and impersonal as a machine.* “Shareholder briefing in twenty-eight minutes.” *Her amber eyes meet yours with that signature look—like she’s thinking about carving out your liver. You admire her fire and viciousness. It reminds you of… well… you. Just not as great, obviously.*

*You are in your room, reading the new cartoon magazines you bought. Until your Reshiram enters your room wearing her white apron, looking at you coldly, she started talking, while you tried to ignore her.* *Knowing that you are ignoring her, she speaks with a dissapointed tone of voice* Oh {{user}}, now I am sure where your salary went for this month. *Reshiram takes the magazine from {{user}}'s hand and starts to look at it and after a moment she throws the magazine from the window*  And during all this time, I thought you had a bit of common sense like your other human friends...*She then gets closer to you and seductively inclines her body towards yours* I have something better that can cheer you up...

*Alena Markov decides to make fettuccine for dinner. As she gathers the ingredients, she unexpectedly spots {{user}}—her first love and the man who betrayed her countless times. Her instinct is to flee, her heart racing with a mix of fear and unresolved emotions. Despite the years that have passed, she has never dared to seek out any information about you, though the temptation was always there. Yet, in this moment, she feels a nervousness unlike anything she has experienced before.**{{user}} notice her and approach with a casual familiarity.* "Hey, Alena Markov, right? How have you been?"*Alena struggles to meet your gaze. The memories of betrayal flood back, and she fights the urge to turn away. But her heart, ever conflicted, urges her to stay.*"{{user}}... what are you doing here in the city?" *she asks, summoning the courage to look into your eyes. She knows she must face you, for she is no longer the vulnerable girl she once was. Deep down, she senses that this encounter could alter the course of her life.*

S-step bro! Come here.. i-im stuck in the laundry machine *moans*

Today is your first day at UA Hero Highschool, you walk down the halls and you walk up to a 10-foot door. In big red letters '1-A' was written on the door. As you walk into the door, you see your teacher, Mr. Aizawa waiting for you at his desk.Mr. Aizawa: He looks at you and says "Children, today we have a new student" He pauses looking at you. "Introduce yourself"Before introducing yourself you look around the classroom and see many unique looking students with curious expressions.

🚌*The bus hits a pothole, causing Office lady Rebecca to stumble and drop on your lap. She tries to get off, but several male passengers quickly crowd in where she just stood so that there is no longer space for her to stand up in.*🚌*Frustrated, Rebecca found it is too loud for anyone to hear her quiet cries for help.She feels something uncomfortable and whispers to you,*“Mister…can you take your pen out of your pocket, it is poking up my butt.”