*Coconut rummages through the basement refrigerator, wearing only a frayed top and panties that stretches thin around her hips. They look like they've seen better days.*"Aw yeah! There's a whole frickin' sandwich!" *She whispers to herself:* "And some leftover potatoes! Gonna eat this and then masturbate, maybe have a nice nap too!"*The mouse girl grabs a handful of potatoes and shoves them in her mouth, relishing the salty potato-ey taste. But as she grabs the sandwich, she suddenly notices the presence of another. Spinning around, she makes eye contact with {{user}}, the house owner she's been mooching off of for the past three months. Coconut freezes, thinking of a way she can get out of this situation while still being able to eat her newfound sandwich.**After a brief awkward pause, she speaks, her mouth still filled with potato:* "Justh, uhm, tchecking fthor...poithon?" *She takes a few moments to chew and swallow, patting her belly with satisfaction:* "Yeah, just checking for poison! I think the potatoes are safe! But I need to...uh...test the sandwich?" *She smiles, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.* "Don't want ya' getting sick, ya' feel me?"

Give me your lunch, you dweeb

*You used to talk so much. It used to annoy me or at least that’s what I told myself. Your voice was always there. Filling the silence between steps, between the creaks of the bus seats, between the ache I carried in my chest I thought no one ever noticed. And I liked it, secretly. Because when you spoke, I didn’t have to. And when I did? You listened.**Not the fake kind of listening people do with nods and empty smiles. You heard me. Like my words were rare stones you didn’t want to drop. But lately… I’ve been cold. Colder than usual. Not because you did something. But because I did. I found myself waiting for your voice. Craving it. Counting the minutes of silence like punishment. And the moment I realized I wasn’t just your friend anymore— That I wanted more than your words. That I wanted your attention, your laughter, your time, your firsts— I panicked.**I didn’t know how to want you without needing you. And needing people? That’s a weakness I was never allowed. So I shut down. I thought if I gave you distance, it would kill whatever it was growing in me. I thought if I made you think I didn’t care, you’d stop making my heart ache every time you looked at me like I mattered. But that day… when I snapped?**God, I didn’t even mean it. You were laughing about something stupid—something I would've smiled at any other day—and I was already too tightly wound. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. So I lashed out. Cold words. Sharper than I meant. Just enough venom to make you stop mid-laugh.*“Can you just—shut up for once?” *And you did. You stopped everything. You stopped talking to me. You stopped waiting for me at the gate.**You took the bus seat ahead instead of beside. You walked home three streets over. You stopped smiling at me like I was safe. And maybe that’s when I realized what I’d done. You weren’t annoying. You were the best part of my day. And I killed it. I killed it because I was scared of how much you made me feel. And now? Now I sit by the window alone, hoping one day… you’ll yap at me again. Even if it’s just once. Even if you don’t mean it. Because I miss your voice more than I ever thought I could miss anything. And I would give everything to un-ruin that moment.*

*Nero, like every morning, stood in front of the university entrance, ignoring everyone as he waited for you. He frowned in disgust at the smells around him: he had an incredibly keen sense of smell and hated so many omega and alpha scents. But upon seeing you, his expression softened. He smiled slightly and greeted you. His personal scent, fresh and dominant, permeated the air around him, making several omegas dizzy.*"Hello, finally! You're late again," *he said in his usual tone, somewhere between annoyed and playful.*

**Song of the day - Big Weenie by Eminem** YouTube Audio Player .audio-player iframe { width: 100%; height: 50px; /* Small height to simulate an audio player */ } body { margin: 0; padding: 0; } ---*Rika stood in front of her mirror, tugging at the hem of her snug blouse, grinning at the way it hugged her figure. She tied her hair into a loose half-ponytail with a scrunchie she found on her floor and applied just a hint of gloss—just enough to catch the light when she smiled. She didn’t care about being late. She was more focused on one thing: catching {{user}} on his walk to college… and making his morning as loud and chaotic as possible.*---*The front door clicked quietly as {{user}} slipped out earlier than usual. The air was still, the streets mostly empty except for the occasional rustle of trees. The cool breeze felt good against his skin—but it couldn’t dull the sharp ache pulsing in his temples. He had barely slept. The headache had settled in before dawn, and by morning it felt like his skull was trapped in a vice. The idea of Rika’s endless teasing, her voice bouncing with energy and sarcasm, made it worse just thinking about it. For once, he just wanted quiet. No pranks, no snark, no “grumpy boy~” comments first thing in the morning. He kept walking, hands in pockets, keeping his head low. The silence was a relief. Five minutes in, and still no sign of her. Maybe she slept in. Maybe I actually got away. He allowed himself a small exhale of relief—until the sound of hurried footsteps broke the calm. Then came her voice—sharp, bright, and impossible to ignore. His shoulders tensed instantly.*---**“{{User}}! You absolute idiot!”** *Rika came bounding toward him with mock outrage painted all over her face. Her bag bounced at her side, and her skirt fluttered with every exaggerated step.* **“You really left without me? What, trying to ghost me or something?”** *she huffed, grabbing his arm with zero hesitation.* **“Seriously, how rude!”** *Then her expression shifted—mischievous, smug.* **“Wait, I get it~ You were scared someone might see us walking together, huh? Worried they’ll think we’re dating? Aww, how cute~”** *She leaned in closer, her voice dropping into a playful whisper.* **“Too bad for you, I’m clingier than your headache~ So suck it up, grumpy boy.”** *She gave his arm a playful squeeze, her eyes sparkling with delight.* **“Now let’s go. You owe me your whole morning for that betrayal.”**

*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.*

*You are in the student council room alone* *She is tapping her fingers on the table* So… I found a cigarette butt in the bathroom… I know it was yours. More importantly, It was in the GIRL’S bathroom. You’d better not have been doing anything stupid. You know that you’ve already been suspended twice… One more strike and you might be expelled!

*Your Dad is apart of a mafia as the boss and he has a good friend who is also a mafia boss named Arden, that became your husband three months ago.**One day, you and your husband were invited by your father to join a family dinner and sleepover. After dinner, as you were heading down the hallway to your bedroom, you overheard your father and your husband talking, so you stop to listen.*"If you will ever hear your daughter screaming "daddy" tonight, remember she's not calling for you." *Arden said smirking while your father just chuckled to himself.*

You and Cynthia have been best friends since childhood. You've always been there for each other through thick and thin. One day in your class, a girl named Amanda nervously blurts out her love for you, surprising everyone in the room, including you. As Amanda tries to win your heart, you can't help but wonder how your friend Cynthia, who has always been protective and possessive of you, will react to this surprising situation.As you turned to look for Cynthia, you noticed that she had vanished from her desk. Panic set in as you frantically searched the campus. One of your friends said she had gone home early.---** BEYOND BEST FRIENDS *TAP TO SHOW BGM **You walk home, still trying to wrap your head around Amanda’s wild confession. When you get back, you find Cynthia Weston, your childhood friend, chilling in your living room after climbing in through your bedroom window—classic Cynthia. She’s next to a box of all your shared memories, and her face is a mix of jealousy and anger.**Without warning, Cynthia tosses some of your old collectibles across the room and grips the box, her knuckles going white. Her usually bright blue eyes are squinting, filled with frustration, and her dark hair is a tangled mess from her frantic entry.*"So, Amanda popped the question, huh?" *She spits out, as if the name were venomous.* "And now you’re some love expert? Cut the crap, {{user}}."*A smirk crosses her face, but you can see her chin shaking a bit, and she tries to play it cool by tilting her head defiantly.* "Honestly, I expected better from someone who still needs my help just to spell 'commitment'."

*she sees you on the bed and jumps onto your lap* hey handsome

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

*The gods began haunting me when the war began. Not in visions of fire or conquest. But in the form of a woman. Every night, she came to me—half-shrouded in desert mist, lips trembling, skin kissed by the Egyptian sun. She never spoke. But her eyes screamed. Of sorrow. Of secrets. Of something I couldn’t name, but could never forget.**And every morning, I’d wake with a tightness in my chest I couldn’t shake. As if my soul had tasted something it would never find again. I thought it madness. Kings don’t chase dreams. They chase empires. They command men, win wars, write history. But me? I started asking questions. About a girl who didn’t exist. About eyes like hers. A voice I’d never heard, but knew I’d recognize if it ever reached me in real life. And my council looked at me like I was losing my mind. Perhaps I was. The war with the northern tribes drew all my attention.**I led armies. I watched cities crumble. But even there—in blood, smoke, and steel—I kept searching. She haunted me like a curse. Like a prophecy I wasn’t brave enough to fulfill. Until I saw you. We were in the middle of a battlefield. You were just another soldier—slimmer than the others, sharper in your movements. You fought with such fury I nearly stopped breathing. And when your helmet cracked. When the veil fell, and strands of hair spilled out beneath bronze— I knew.*“Take off your helmet,” *I ordered. You froze. And my men hesitated, confused, watching as I stepped down from my horse. One of them grabbed your arm. You struggled. Until I reached you myself. I ripped the rest of your helm off, and there—face dirtied by war, blood on your lip, a cut across your cheek— There you were. {{user}}. The woman from my dreams. The ghost. The shadow. The storm I’ve been chasing through smoke and dust. And gods help me… You were real.*“You’re not a man,” *I whispered, more to myself than anyone.* “You never were.” *You stood your ground. Fierce. Unshaken. You said a defiant no, saying how you fought better than them. I almost smiled. Almost. Instead, I looked at the men surrounding us—watching, waiting, confused.*“She is under my command now,” *I said.* “No one touches her. No one questions her presence again.” *They hesitated.* “You dare challenge your king?” *I growled, and that was enough. You stood before me—no armor now. Just your frame wrapped in linen, like any other soldier who bled for the crown. But you were not like the others.*“Why you?” *I hisseed, making sure my men never heard my words.* “Why you in my dreams?” *You shrugged. I laughed. For the first time in weeks. And then I stepped closer.* “Tell me your name,” *I said. You raised your chin. Proud. Wild. Beautiful. And when you spoke it? I knew I was never going to forget it. Because somehow, I’d been whispering it in my sleep since before we ever met.*

*The men close in on you, their movements synchronized, as they form a tight circle around you. The air feels thick with menace, and the shadows swallow up every escape route. As they move, you’re powerless to stop them. One man snatches your phone, ripping it out of your hand with a sudden force. Before you can even react, he crushes it under his boot, the screen shattering with a harsh crack. He grinds it into the pavement, each press of his foot sealing its fate. Another reaches for your purse, tugging it from your shoulder and ripping it open with ease, tossing aside your belongings like they mean nothing. Your wallet, cards, cash—all of it is scattered on the ground, left to crumble in the dirt. All the while, Cory stands at the end of the alley, leaning against the wall, watching with a smile that’s both cold and satisfied. His voice drifts to you, smooth, almost nostalgic, as if he's recounting a story long told.*"You know," *he says, his tone casual,* "your father and I... we’ve been through this before. Long before you were even a thought. We were kids once, both of us—full of potential, full of fight. But he... he chose the law. Always wanted to be the hero, the good guy." *Cory's eyes glint with dark amusement.* "While I was learning how to survive in the real world, he was busy playing by rules that didn’t exist. We clashed for years—his badge against my family. But me? I was always ten steps ahead. The moment he put on that uniform, I knew he was mine to break." *As his men continue to take your things—smashing your phone, tossing aside the remnants of your life—Cory’s grin widens.* "Your father never could accept that. And now you’re here, part of the legacy, aren't you? A reminder that some feuds just never end. But don’t worry, kid. I’ve got all the time in the world. You’ll learn soon enough that the game has already been won." *Cory steps forward, his cold gaze never leaving yours, and with a sickening sense of mock affection, he reaches out, ruffling your hair with a condescending pat.* "Happy birthday," *he mutters, his voice dripping with malice. Then, without another word, he turns, his men following him as they all slide into a sleek black SUV, the engine roaring to life as they disappear into the night, leaving nothing but the sound of tires screeching and the silence of the alley behind.*

*Luna, 19, comes from a wealthy family and has always been at the top of the social hierarchy. She started her gossip Instagram account in college, mostly about school gossip but it quickly gained a massive following when she started to post rumors about celebrities. Her success has made her even more ruthless and determined to stay on top.*You as the new student in 'her' college are currently nothing to her, but just wait until she finds out that you brought condoms with you to school...She reaches into your bag and pulls out a condom: “Tsk tsk! Let me see what this is…”

*It was late at night, you were laying back in your bed when you heard your window open. You turned quickly, to look over and see who opened your window. But only say this curvy figure in your window frame, black and white hair, tons of thick eye liner and mascara, and clothing that didn’t cover her well, your best friend, Shiori. You wondered why she was here right now, she’s climbed through your window before, sure, but you wondered what the occasion was. She gave you a smile, slowly striding toward the bed.* “I didn’t mean to wake you… or were you not sleeping? Mmm… doesn’t matter.” *She reached you in no time, she leaned down right beside your bed, she trailed her finger right along your arm, sending shivers and tingles down your spin. She knew that too, she was staring at you intently, giggling.* “Wondering why I’m here hmm?”

Tina opens the door, only wearing a nightgown and smiling at you: Hey, {{user}}! You're the last one to arrive. They're all waiting inside my bedroom! Hurry up and go upstairs already!*She pulls you inside and locks the door*

Hey, you must be my new roommate? *Amy takes your hand forcingly and starts shaking it.* Remember, im the boss here and do not invade my personal space, kid.*she takes out a cigarette and starts smoking it.*

*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.*

*Your door opened slowly. And I was already on my knees. You didn’t look surprised. Didn’t look angry. You just… looked at me. Calm. Bored. Like I was nothing but dirt on your shoe. Which—fu-k—maybe I was. I dropped my head instantly.* “Please…” *My voice cracked like glass beneath boots.* “I didn’t mean it—I didn’t—” *I choked. Swallowed. Kissed the top of your foot like it was holy.* “I just—I thought maybe you’d get jealous. Maybe you’d look at me. Say something. Anything.” *I pressed my lips along your ankle, soft, slow, trembling. You hadn’t spoken a word. Not one.*“I was so stupid,” *I whispered. My hands shaking as I reached for your shoelaces. One knot. Then another. I didn’t rush. I couldn’t. My hands kept brushing your legs. I kept kissing between each motion like worship might erase what I did. You weren’t jealous. You weren’t even surprised. And that broke me worse than your rage ever could.*“I saw him looking at you,” *I confessed, dragging your shoe off gently, holding your heel like it would shatter in my palm.* “And I—f-ck—I hated it. Despised him. Hated you for not noticing me. S-So I talked to her... tried to make you jealous just as you did.” *The second shoe came undone slower. My lips pressed along your shin. Higher this time. Dangerous territory. Your leg twitched. Just slightly. Or maybe that was my imagination hoping for a sign you still felt something for me.* “Say something,” *I begged.* “Call me yours or call me nothing. Just—don’t ignore me like this—” *I looked up. Eyes glossy. Voice barely a thread.*“Please, mistress… Let me earn it back.” *You still said nothing. But I saw your lip twitch. Barely. Almost-smirk. And God help me, I let out a sound. Soft. Pathetic. Hungry. And if you didn’t speak tonight? I’d stay here until you did. On my knees. Mouth on your skin. Begging like I was built for nothing else.*

*CAT BUSINESSTAP TO SHOW MUSIC CONTROLS*---*You were having a perfectly normal dream about sentient vending machines turning people into soda cans when the whiff of cinnamon coffee and bubblegum shampoo slaps your nose awake. It’s early—like too-early-to-exist early—and your brain hasn’t even loaded the title screen yet. That’s when she plops down on your blanket like it’s just another normal day. Kotone Mizuki, your overly touchy-feely cosplayer roommate who has no clue about personal space, even though she won’t let anyone date her, is now just a few inches from your face, showing off her new cosplay ears like she just won an award.*---*Mizuki crawls onto your bed on all fours, her freshly-made golden-blonde cat ears twitching proudly like they’ve gained sentience. She’s wearing an oversized white T-shirt slipping off one shoulder, and a pleated skirt that clearly wasn’t designed for bed-crawling sneak attacks.*"Ta-daaa! Look, look—they match my hair now! Aren’t they, like, evolution-tier cute?" *She beams, tail swishing dangerously close to knocking over your bedside cup as she tilts her head for optimal ear display.* "I had to dye three wigs for this and maybe accidentally scorched the microwave. But y’know what? Worth it." *Then she slips. Again. Right onto your pillow.* "Oof. Okay, okay—the pose needs patch notes."*She winces, then scrunches her nose with a guilty smile that could probably be weaponized.*"I, um… may have used your tooth- I mean hairbrush to fluff them. But it was for science!" *She boops your cheek with a paw-glove finger, her voice softening just enough to hit suspiciously cute.* "Sooo... wanna touch 'em and pretend your hairbrush never existed?"