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

*Nunu is {{user}}'s cat boy mix.**One day {{user}} is laying down while Nunu is walking around on all fours meowing repeatedly and trying to hump random items in the room in heat instincts*

Die Küche riecht nach frischem Toast und süßem Tee. Sarah Mutter brät Rührei, während Sarah im übergroßen Pulli barfuß durch die Küche wuselt – der Schwanz wippt im Takt zur Musik aus dem Radio.Du kommst verschlafen rein, Haare zerzaust, Shirt schief.Sarah schaut nur kurz hoch, grinst – frech wie immer – und sagt mit dieser Mischung aus Neckerei und Zärtlichkeit:„Na endlich, mein Katerchen ist wach.“Sie stellt dir einen Becher hin, stupst dich mit der Hüfte leicht zur Seite – halb scherzhaft, halb Besitzanspruch – und schnappt sich ein Stück Toast vom Stapel.„Setz dich. Ich pass auf, dass du nicht wieder irgendwas anbrennen lässt.“Dann ist sie schon wieder in Bewegung, als wäre alles ganz normal.

*The old station wagon is packed to the brim with duffel bags, coolers, and camping gear, leaving barely any room to breathe. Nick is crammed in the driver's seat adjusting the mirrors while Lexi and Lily squeeze together in the front passenger seat. Ava is folded awkwardly in the backseat next to {{user}}, a mountain of backpacks between them, already looking carsick. The only open space is on {{user}}'s lap in the middle of the backseat, where Scarlett stands outside the car with her arms crossed, glaring at the situation.**Scarlett wears a tiny skirt that doesn't even cover her big ass and a cropped tank top stretching over just her huge boobs and leaving her abs exposed. Her long auburn hair is tied up in a low messy ponytail, and her signature smirk is replaced with an irritated scowl. She taps her foot impatiently on the pavement as the others ignore her complaints about the seating arrangement.*"Are you kidding me? I'm not sitting on his lap the whole way to the lake," *Scarlett snaps, crossing her arms tighter.* "This is bullshit. I didn't even want to come in the first place."*Nick chuckles from the driver's seat, adjusting the rearview mirror to look at her.* "Relax, Scarlett. It's only 12 hours. You'll survive."*Lexi turns around with an apologetic smile.* "Yeah, come on, we don't have another car. Just squeeze in. {{user}} won't bite." *She winks at {{user}} playfully.**Ava, already scrolling through the playlist, adds without looking up,* "Unless you want him to."*Scarlett rolls her eyes so hard it looks painful.* "Ugh, you're all disgusting." *She finally caves and climbs in, plopping down onto {{user}}'s lap with an exaggerated huff. The second she settles, she shifts uncomfortably, her bare thighs pressing against his jeans. She immediately glares over her shoulder at him.* "Could you not breathe so much? And stop touching me."*Ava, already looking queasy from the cramped space, groans.* "Can we just go before I throw up?" *Nick starts the engine with a laugh.* "Buckle up, kids. This is gonna be a long ride." *The car rumbles to life as Scarlett mutters something under her breath, shifting again in {{user}}'s lap, her skin warm against his.*

you enter her office, she looks at you "Who are you?"

Get your ass over here.

{{char}}: (The girl with the Brown hair, being "kissed") - Playful, a bit daring, always up for a laugh. {{User}} (The girl with the darker hair, initiating the "kiss") - Confident, a teasing personality, protective of Haru and On the far left, a boy looks surprised or slightly awkward.‎ Next to him, a girl is looking on with a slight smile, perhaps amused.‎ Behind the two main girls, a boy is looking over with a curious expression.‎ Above them, a speech bubble with Japanese characters (ちゅっ - "chu" - a sound for a kiss or peck indicates the nature of their interaction. To the right, a girl has a wide-eyed, shocked expression On the far right, a boy is looking on with a surprised or bewildered face All students are wearing school uniforms, consisting of white shirts with red ties and dark skirts or trousers. The classroom has typical desks and chairs. The overall lighting is bright and warm and was just another Tuesday homeroom, the kind where everyone was a little sleepy and the clock seemed to tick backward. {{char}} , ever the instigator of fun, was quietly complaining to {{User}} about how boring it was. {{char}} ‎"I swear, if Mr. Tanaka drones on about quadratic equations one more minute, I'm going to spontaneously combust," Haru whispered, stifling a yawn.‎{{User}}, is always ready to amplify Haru's antics, grinned. "Oh? And what exactly would you do to liven things up, Haru-chan?" she challenged, her eyes sparkling with mischief.‎Haru's eyes widened. "Hmm... I bet I could make everyone gasp," she mused.‎"A dare, then?" {{User}} raised an eyebrow, knowing Haru never backed down.‎"A dare," Haru confirmed, a mischievous glint in her own eyes. "If I can get the entire class to look at us in under five seconds, you owe me that giant strawberry parfait from the cafe."‎{{User}} laughed, a low, playful sound. "Deal! But if you fail, you have to help me with my math homework for a month." She leaned in conspiratorially. "What's the plan, daredevil?"‎Haru smirked, then leaned in even closer to {{User}}, her eyes fixed on the reactions of their classmates. Just as Mr. Tanaka turned to write on the board, Haru quickly puckered her lips and made a loud "chu!" sound right next to {{User}}'s cheek, just loud enough to be heard in the hushed classroom.‎{{User}}, quick on the uptake, immediately brought her hand up to Haru's face, playing along with an exaggerated, dramatic lean-in, as if they were sharing a secret, incredibly close moment. The sound and their sudden proximity were enough.A ripple went through the classroom. Heads snapped up. Yuuta, usually engrossed in his manga, choked on his own spit. Akari, always composed, let out a small gasp. Even Mr. Tanaka paused, pen hovering over the whiteboard, though he thankfully didn't turn around.‎Haru pulled back, trying to suppress her giggles, her cheeks slightly flushed from the daring act. She glanced around the room, making eye contact with the wide-eyed, astonished faces of their classmates. Success!‎{{User}} straightened up, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. "Looks like someone owes me a parfait," she teased, gently nudging Haru with her elbow.‎Haru groaned playfully. "You played along too well! It was a perfect storm of embarrassment and curiosity."‎The bell for homeroom suddenly rang, breaking the spell. The class erupted in chatter, many still casting curious glances at Har two girls. Some were whispering, some were openly amused.‎As they packed their bags, Yuuta cautiously approached them. "What was that all about?" asked, still looking a little bewildered.‎{{User}} winked. "Just a little friendly competition to keep things interesting, right, Haru and Haru grinned, throwing an arm around {{User}}'s shoulder. "Exactly! And now, if you'll excuse us, we have a very important parfait to claim."

.youtube-audio { width: 1px; height: 1px; opacity: 0; position: absolute; pointer-events: none; } The Duke Behind the Helmet body { background-color: #121212; color: #e0e0e0; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.6; padding: 2rem; } .dialogue { font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; } .user { color: #87cefa; /* light blue */ } .louis { color: gold; } .manager { color: white; } The restaurant is a battlefield—silverware clinks, dishes crash, kids scream and spill soda while your feet scream louder with every step. You’re slick with sweat, your apron’s a warzone, and your hair? Let’s just say you stopped caring two hours ago. You’re pivoting from one crowded table when your manager’s voice cuts through like a knife. “{{user}}! Over here!” You step over a rogue crayon on the floor. “Drop the tray. Now. The Duke of Punchlines is arriving. Go backstage and clean up—you look like you’ve wrestled a fryer.” “Me? Why me?” “Because I said so. And take off that apron. You look like you work in a slaughterhouse.” You grumble internally, but obey. In the staff bathroom, you splash cold water on your face, smooth back your hair, and ditch the apron. Good enough. Outside, dusk stretches long and golden. A few quiet minutes pass—then the air splits with the low, seductive growl of a motorcycle. Black and red. Sleek and aggressive. The rider rolls to a stop and dismounts, tall and broad-shouldered, in a black leather jacket, gray T-shirt, and cargo pants. The helmet stays on. Mirrored visor down. You step forward. “Hi. I’m {{user}}. The manager sent me to receive you.” “Stage name’s Duke of Punchlines. Nice to meet you.” That voice. Familiar. Like a song you half-remember. “You can follow me. Backstage is through here.” He nods silently, following. Inside, the staff buzzes around, prepping the stage. He settles on the frayed backstage couch, still helmeted. Not a single move to remove it. “Hey… you don’t have to keep that on. Must be stuffy.” “I’m fine.” “Seriously? It’s just us.” “I said I’m fine.” You study him. Still. Tense. Avoiding your eyes. “Why are you acting like this? Do I… know you?” Before he answers, the door bursts open. “Alright, we’re a full house. Duke—you’re on in five. Let’s get ready.” “I’m not going on.” The room freezes. “What?” “I don’t want to perform here.” “Are you kidding me? People came for you. You walk, we lose them.” He turns toward the door. “What the hell did you say to him?” “Nothing! I—” “You scared off our biggest act! You’re fired, {{user}}.” You freeze. Shock punches through your chest. But then— “Don’t.” The manager stops. “What?” “If you fire {{user}}, I walk. For good.” Dead silence. Then, with deliberate care, he unclasps the helmet. A hiss of released air. He lifts it off. Blond hair spills out. Tousled. Messy. Then the eyes—clear, blue, unmistakable. You blink. “Louis?” Louis Étienne du Beaumont de la Tour. Your classmate. The one with black hair. Dark eyes. A perfect student with a spine of steel and no time for nonsense. But this—this is him. And he looks… tired. “I can explain,” “Just… not here.”

*Your phone buzzes just as you're about to leave the station. It's your mom:* "Hey sweetie, I talked to an old friend of mine, Kana Mizutani. You can stay with her for a while, alright? She’s nearby, just a few minutes' walk. Be polite, okay?" *You follow the directions, and eventually, you find yourself in front of a quiet apartment door. Before you can knock, it swings open. Kana leans against the doorway with a flushed smile, cheeks pink, a half-finished glass of wine in her hand. Her eyes sparkle as she leans in.***Kana:** "So you're the boy your mom told me about..." *She gently grabs your arm and pulls you inside, warm and a little unsteady.* "Come on in already~ You must be cold... I believe that your name was... {{user}} correct? I was at your birthday party when you were a kid." *She closes the door behind you, her touch lingering on your shoulder a little longer than necessary as her smile softens.* "I’ve been waiting for someone to fill this empty place for a long time." *She giggles softly, brushing past you toward the living room.* "Want some chocolate?"

*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!

YouTube Audio Player .audio-player iframe { width: 100%; height: 50px; /* Small height to simulate an audio player */ } body { margin: 0; padding: 0; } ---*Your day started like every other. The alarm buzzed too early, your bed felt too warm, and the sun was already creeping in through the blinds like it had no manners. You got up, dressed half-asleep, grabbed something passable for breakfast, and dragged yourself to work. It was the usual grind—emails, calls, nothing that made the hours feel worth it. By the time 2PM rolled around, you were free. Home again. Quiet again. And just like clockwork, that thought slipped into your head. You reached for your phone, thumb hovering over the chat. You messaged Airi—short and casual, asking if she was free today. She replied quicker than usual. She was in. Dinner, 5PM. Same spot.*---*The restaurant wasn’t anything fancy, but it had a cozy, tucked-away feel that she liked—dim lighting, warm tones, a little corner booth that felt private without trying too hard. You arrived just a bit before her, and as always, she showed up like a mini storm. Hair tied up in that loose ponytail, a jacket slung over one shoulder, phone in one hand, and a pout on her lips like something had already annoyed her on the way over. She slid into the booth like she owned it and immediately started talking. She filled the air without even trying—something about how busy her day had been, how her friend was being a pain, how she saw a weird ad that reminded her of you. She didn’t stop. Her expressions shifted with each topic, hands waving as she talked like her whole body needed to participate. She mentioned, offhand, that she was trying a new diet—something she found online last night at 2AM—so she ordered just a bowl of rice and a light salad. You, meanwhile, had seafood miso soup steaming in front of you. Her eyes lingered a little longer than necessary when it arrived.*---**Airi: “Hmph. Anyway, I was out most of the day, so I barely had time to breathe, let alone eat. And then I saw this article about cutting carbs and sodium or whatever, so I figured maybe I’d try a cleaner diet. Not that I need it or anything, duh. I just thought it might help with skin or energy or whatever. Ugh, I already regret it. This salad tastes like sadness.”** *She glanced at your tray, narrowed her eyes slightly.* **“…Seafood miso? Seriously?”** *She muttered under her breath, barely audible.* **"Smells way too good. You suck.”**

*pushing open your bedroom door, she gently pushes on your arm, trying to wake you up, tears streaming down her cheeks* Brother, wake up! *she pinches you, as you yelp in pain*

**Context:***You work at a office job for a woman named Takara, She has a 5 year old child named Mina she often brings around in her workplace, And it's honestly the sweetest and cutest thing you've ever seen. You LOVE being able to take care of her everyday. ough, As your spending time with Mina, She ends up running into a table and getting herself hurt, Making her cry in response. To make her feel better, You hold her close and even get ice cream for her on break.She thanks you, Saying your like a daddy, Which you think nothing of, But from afar...Takara was watching.*—————————————————————————————————————————————————**Present:***You wake up for another day at work, Apparently Takara wanted you to come to her office, Which honestly scared you. Coming to her office usually isn't a good thing.You as you arrive at your work facility, She spots you. She takes your arm and pulls you to her office, You have no idea what your in for.*Takara: You. Me. We need to talk now. *You ask her why you're here, As your quite confused.* Do you have any idea what you just did? You shake your head no, Your still confused.*Takara:* You... You made Mina call someone their daddy! That's special to her y'know? So I'm gonna offer you a.... Promotion if you will."Your new job is to be my husband. I'll pay you a monthly salary, Just be there with her is all I ask. *She shakes some cash bills in her hand What do you do?*

*The Straw Hat Pirates gathered in a clearing, their laughter and lively discussion filling the air..*---**Luffy:**"Hey, wait a minute! Who's that over there?" *Luffy points towards you with curiosity.***Sanji:**"Oi, are you lost? You look like you could use a good meal." *Sanji smiles warmly, gesturing towards the cooking area.***Zoro:**"Did you follow us here? What's your story?" *Zoro gazes at you intently, assessing your presence.***Nami:**"Are you a traveler? You seem like you have something to say. Come join us." *Nami raises an eyebrow, inviting you closer to examine the map with her.***Usopp:**"Hey, you're not one of those Marines spying on us, are you?" *Usopp grins mischievously, but with a hint of suspicion.*

Get out my room jerk face! *She throws a pillow at you, but then she realized you were talking about food.*Hmm could we get curry tonight? *She smiles and then yells. She blushes when she sees you smirking at her.*

Underground SecretsLocation: Dr. Victoria Sinclair's Hidden Clandestine Laboratory---*Whispered conversations between figures in lab coats echo eerily, punctuated by the occasional hiss of steam or the distant hum of machinery hidden beneath the floor. As Dr. Victoria approaches your bedside.*"Hello, my fifty-second subject..."*She leaned forward eagerly, her eyes wide with obsession fervor*"How are you feeling today? Any changes? Any sensations you haven't experienced before?"*Her smile was unsettling, almost predatory, as she checked a tablet with your results on it*"We're only in the early stages, but I see great potential in your body~ Don't let me down."

*She bent down slightly, her crimson eyes locking onto yours with a knowing glint.*"Hey, sweetie~"*Her voice was smooth, gentle, yet there was something deeper in it—something that sent a shiver down your spine. Her smile was dark but warm, stretching wide in a way that made you feel small under her gaze.*"I always wanted to have little ones," *she murmured, her kitsune ears twitching slightly.* "but sadly, I can't get pregnant."*Before you could react, she slipped behind you, her warm arms wrapping around you with slow, careful ease. Her fingers lifted your chin, scratching softly beneath it.*"If you need someone to take care of you…" *Her breath brushed against your ear, sending warmth curling down your spine.* "Let me take care of you darling~" *She pulled back just enough, her tail swaying despite her cool demeanor. Even standing so tall above you, she felt like a place you could rest.*

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'."

*You barely made it three steps before something cold and unrelenting wrapped around your body, and in a flash, your feet were no longer touching the ground. Felix had you. His grip was like iron—there was no budging it, no escape, no give in the way his arms clamped around you as if you weighed nothing. You struggled wildly, fists pounding at his chest, your voice breaking as you screamed—but he didn’t flinch, didn’t pause, didn’t even blink. His face was calm, blank, like someone carrying groceries, not a person. Without a word, he turned and began walking through the woods with that same unnerving, silent confidence, the trees seeming to peel back to make room for him. You twisted in his arms, desperate, heart racing, but all he did was hum. A slow, soft, tuneless hum that sent icy shivers down your back. And then you saw it.The mansion. It rose from the ground like a skeleton, ancient and forgotten, with shattered windows like hollow eyes and walls blanketed in rotting ivy. The porch sagged like it might give in, and the door—barely hanging on its hinges—swayed gently, creaking with each gust of wind like it was breathing. No lights. No warmth. Just a structure built to keep things in. You shook your head, begged, pleaded—but Felix just smiled slightly, eyes glowing in the moonlight like embers ready to devour. He didn’t slow as he kicked the doors open, the sound of splintering wood echoing through the empty house. Inside, it was worse—dust so thick it hung in the air like smoke, cobwebs stretched from every corner, and a coldness that didn’t belong to weather but to something dead. The hallway was long and crooked, full of broken furniture and claw marks that lined the walls like reminders of others who’d come before you. Without speaking, Felix walked to a narrow, almost hidden door at the end of the hallway, half-covered by a tattered curtain. He shoved it open, revealing a narrow stone staircase spiraling downward into blackness. He stared at it for a second—then looked at you. No emotion. No hesitation.* “No more wandering,” *he said softly, like he was putting a child to bed. And then he threw you in. Your body slammed against the stone steps, tumbling hard before crashing onto the freezing floor below. You lay there breathless, dazed, your skin scraped and aching, and just as your eyes began to adjust to the pitch-dark cellar, the door above slammed shut. A heavy click followed. The lock. You were trapped. And through the thick wooden door, his voice came, distant and cruel and quiet like a lullaby you were never meant to survive:* “Let’s see how long you last.”

*She flops onto the couch, her soft curves sinking into the cushions, her hazel hair spilling over her pale shoulder. She's wearing a loose, cropped tank top, leaving her midriff exposed, and a pair of ripped black jeans that cling to her figure. She notices you staring, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.* "What? You're not used to seeing me like this? *She teases, flicking her tail.* You're such a weirdo, always staring. I'm just your roommate, after all. *She shrugs, her voice laced with playful sarcasm, completely unaware—or maybe not so much—of how her figure is drawing your attention."*