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Omo-secret

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Omo-secret last won the day on March 29 2013

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  1. Hey! I originally drew these for my Hogwarts Mystery story I was writing but uh, I never got past the first chapter. I'd still really like to eventually write more to it because it was a fun project I'm just very short on time. Even with all that's going on. So instead of waiting to add more to the story I thought I'd just post the drawing of my MC wetting herself, plus two "lewd" variants. I hope you enjoy! The "lewd" variants are in the spoiler. No actual nudity though. Just thought I'd separate them out. Let me know what you think! Hopefully I'll get a chance to draw more, because it's actually been a lot of fun to work in digital.
  2. Hello! I always thought that my next male omorashi story would be about Tim Drake, but I got requested to do a Nightwing story! It's actually been a long time since I've done a male omo story (and just generally a long time since I've done anything really), but here it is, finally, after just so so so many set backs. “Looks like I’m going to be late. The ‘boss’ is not going to be happy.” Nightwing laughed. The former boy wonder raced through the streets of Gotham atop his motorcycle, effortlessly navigating through alleyways and backstreets of his former home. “I’m sorry,” a bubbly voice spoke over his headset. “I didn’t mean to keep you that long.” “Don’t be sorry.” Dick grinned, “I definitely don’t regret a second, Star.” “I’m glad, Dick. Let us hope you feel the same after meeting with Batman.” “Trust me; not even Brother Blood could ruin my mood tonight.” “Well, it is nice to see that I have such a positive effect on you.” Starfire laughed. “It is, and you do. But I’m approaching the cave now, so I better let you go.” Nightwing was coming upon a steep cliff face with a waterfall cascading down its side. The hero, however, showed no sign of slowing as he approached the chasm separating him from the cliff. In fact, he accelerated even faster. He urged his bike into the air, leaving the ground behind as he soared towards the cliff. “Good luck and send Damian my regards.” “Will do. Bye, Star.” “Bye, Dick.” Just before Nightwing’s bike would have collided with the cliff face, the might veil of water divided before him, opening up to reveal a cave entrance. Nightwing’s bike landed inside the cave flawlessly. The waterfall closed behind him, and elaborate mechanical structures sealed the stony cliff behind him. A long narrow cave corridor with a bright electronic light at the very end stretched before Nightwing. “You’re late.” An irritated voice spoke from the shadows. “Oh, hi, Damian.” Dick grinned. He wondered just how long Damian had been waiting for him to arrive. “Starfire says hi, by the way.” Damian Wayne, the blood son of Batman and all-around general terror. The resemblance to his father was uncanny; even at his young age, Damian had mastered Bruce’s scowl. Perfected even. Though he had his mother’s green eyes, the way they rested and studied everyone was purely his father’s. “Oh, you were with her.” He rolled his eyes. “I would have assumed you might have been doing something worthwhile with your time if you were keeping father waiting. Clearly, I have overestimated you.” “Trust me; you will understand when you get older.” Nightwing smiled, trying to imagine Damian expressing romantic attraction to anyone. Dick hoped that Damian knew that the hearts you give your date on valentine are meant to be candy ones. “I don’t need to be older to understand your priorities lie in base urges rather than our mission.” Speaking of base urges… Nightwing couldn’t help but bounce his leg slightly. He was quickly becoming aware of a somewhat pressing need developing in his bladder. That wasn’t quite here nor there, at the moment, though. “Our mission? Gotham isn’t my city anymore, Damian. Blüdhaven is my mission. I’m here as a favor.” Perhaps Dick’s predicament was making him a tad more snippy than he meant to be. Damian scoffed under his breath. “Blüdhaven, Gotham, it’s all the same. We’re the reason criminal breathe easier when the sun comes up.” “Huh, I guess it makes sense that at least one Robin would actually listen to Bruce’s lectures,” Dick smirked. “I prefer to think of it as we’re the reason people can still breathe easy when the sun goes down. But to each their own, I guess.” And I, for one, would breathe easier if I could use the bathroom before listening to any more of this recycled lecture. “Your optimism is refreshing.” Damian led the way to Bruce. Dick wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or not. The narrow tunnel opened up to a massive underground base. The Batcave. High above their heads in the darkest parts of the cave rustled the occasional bat that used to make Dick feel anxious when he first joined Bruce’s crusade. Stretching across the cave were the trophies of Bruce’s victories: Freeze’s gun, Two-Face’s coin, Joker’s playing card, a ridiculously giant penny, and a freaking animatronic dinosaur just to name a few. In the distance was a collection of Bruce’s fleet of bat-themed vehicles. In the center of the room was the Bat Computer, a massive collection of monitors and devices that compromised the most powerful computer this side of the Watchtower. Sitting at its seat was the Bat himself. “You’re late,” Bruce said without looking back. Bruce was a sight to behold when the façade of the billionaire playboy fell away; all that was left was the imposing presence of one of the most dangerous men on the planet. Bruce was dressed in the batsuit, but his cowl hung around his neck, revealing his jet black hair, and his stern, brooding face. Dick leaned over towards Damian. “You really are your father's son.” “And you better not forget it. I am the true hei-” “Yes, yes. The true heir to your father’s mantle. I assure you, we are all well aware.” Alfred interrupted, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. “Master Richard, it is good to see you again.” “Alfred!” Nightwing hugged him. “How have you been?” “As well as I can be, I suppose. Though between the two brooding heroes, I don’t know how it is that I have any remaining hair.” “Trust me; I know how much these two make you want to pull out your hair.” “If you are quite done, fraternizing, I believe father intends to begin the stakeout,” Damian interjected, obviously impatient to begin working. “Right. Remind me who we are watching again?” Nightwing leaned over Bruce’s chair to see the monitor. “Black Mask,” Bruce spoke up. “I believe he has gone beyond simple drug and arms dealings to something else entirely.” “I don’t suppose ‘something else’ means philanthropy?” Bruce ignored Dick’s joke. “I trust you are ready?” “Always,” Damian spoke up. “And here I was hoping to have time for one of Alfred’s cucumber sandwiches.” And a bathroom. Dick shifted his weight slightly. “But, I guess there is always time afterward, right, Alfred?” “Indeed, master Richard. Please ensure the two Wayne’s don’t stir up too much trouble for themselves while you are out.” And there was the reason Dick was even here in the first place. Batman didn’t need a Nightwing and a Robin to handle a stakeout. Unfortunately, however, the world’s greatest detective still hasn’t quite uncovered any leads on how to connect with his son. At least not like Dick has. Of course, Dick came to help, he knew just as much as Bruce, and in some ways, even more, just how much a child needs a parent. “We are more than capable of handling ourselves.” Damian sneered, but his heart wasn’t in it. Damian shuffled his feet slightly. He kept his eyes on the factory across from the rooftop he was perched on. His legs trembled slightly. He grit his teeth in an effort to regain control of his own body. It didn’t take Batman to know the poor kid needed to use the bathroom. The three heroes had been watching the factory for any activity for two hours already, and Dick wagered that he had probably already needed to use the restroom when they had left. Dick wasn’t in a much better position himself. Thankfully, with Bruce focused on trying to connect with his son, Dick was allowed a little more privacy as he bounced from foot to foot. It’s not like he was ever very skilled at staying still normally anyway. “Damian, you are losing focus.” Bruce broke the silence. “I’m not losing focus. I am just…” “Just what?” “Nothing. Just let me get back to the task at hand.” Damian shot back, a little harshly, even for him. Bruce backed off but continued to cast concerned glances at his son. Damian continued to fidget despite his best efforts. It must really be an emergency if the kid who was raised by ninja assassins can’t keep still. Dick mused to himself. Even ignoring his current predicament, Dick was familiar with what Damian was going through. He had become Robin when he was even younger than Damian after all. Honestly, it was amazing he made it out of any of the early stakeouts with dry tights at all. The problem was, he had no idea how to help Damian now without embarrassing him in front of Bruce. Dick sighed. He would have to let the situation ride itself out. Barely ten minutes had crawled by, and Damian could scarcely keep himself from dancing in place. His legs buckled beneath him. His hands had spent the better half of the night clenched tightly into fists that rested stiffly at his sides. All at once, his body froze for a moment before jerking back violently. “Damian, what’s wrong?” Bruce demanded. “Alright!” Damian blushed furiously. “I need to… relieve myself.” He spat out the words distastefully. “Why didn’t you… go before we went out.” “I was… preparing for the mission.” He was waiting for me. Great. This is my fault. Dick frowned. “I- I can watch the factory on my own for a little bit. It’s not like we need three sets of eyes anyway.” “Right.” Bruce agreed hesitantly. “Come with me, Damian.” Bruce guided his son off the rooftop. “Now, when do I get to take my bathroom break?” Dick wondered aloud; his eyes drifted to the corner of the roof. Bruce would know. Bruce, of course, had a strict policy against urinating on rooftops no matter how urgent the need was. Like I said: it’s a wonder how I made it through any of the early stakeouts with dry tights. The need was growing urgent, though. While Bruce was helping Damian sneak into a public restroom somewhere, Dick was stuck watching Black Mask’s men listlessly mill about the factory. Whatever was going down tonight had the men almost as antsy as Dick. Of course, they probably have a bathroom they can go to when they need it. I mean, Black Mask is a monster, but he’s not a MONSTER. Dick couldn’t keep himself still. He was a world-class acrobat, a hero trained by Batman himself, and most importantly, an adult, but he still couldn’t stop himself from “potty dancing” like a little kid. With Bruce and Damian gone, he no longer felt the need to keep up any pretense that he wasn’t completely dying to pee. He openly grabbed himself. He hopped from foot to foot. Crossed his legs and uncrossed them again. He felt like he would explode at any minute. The last time Dick felt this close to having an accident… well, he did. He couldn’t keep himself from blushing at the memory of a mission with Barbara that had gone wildly wrong. In his defense, Ivy’s mind control didn’t exactly prioritize the bodily functions of who she controlled. Besides, did Babs really need to kick him in the stomach? “Feeling antsy, Nightwing?” Damian asked. Dick jumped. He hadn’t heard them return. “Uh, yeah. Just trying to keep limber.” Great now I can take my turn at the bathroo- wait is that? “What’s Bane doing here?” “Looks like I was right. Black Mask has broadened his operations to include moving venom.” “Oh, I see. When you said Black Mask had gone beyond drugs and arms, what you really meant was that he just combined the two.” “I hardly see what the big deal is. I’ve fought much stronger opponents than Bane, father.” “Don’t underestimate Bane. He’s more than just muscle. He’s an expert combatant and master strategist.” “Master strategists or not, I imagine it’s safe to say that if you knew Black Mask might be dabbling in venom sales, you have a plan on how to handle him.” To answer, Bruce produced a vial of blue liquid. “This should reverse the effects of venom and prevent Bane’s muscles from absorbing anymore.” “Great. Inject him, and let’s kick his butt and get this over with.” “It’s not that simple. The drug will take time to take effect. We need to keep him busy while his system absorbs it.” “Great, so we piss him off with a little prick and then let him rampage until he tuckers himself out. Can’t wait.” “If you aren’t up to the task, father and I are more than capable of dealing with Bane ourselves.” “Don’t sound too eager to get rid of me.” Dick rolled his eyes. “I’m just a little disappointed I don’t wear a cape anymore. I’ve always wanted to try bullfighting, but it always seemed so inhumane. But Bane would completely circumvent the whole ethical dilemma.” “Alright, let’s move in. Nightwing, Robin, and I will draw his attention. He won’t expect you to be there; while he’s distracted, you will inject him with the compound after that you and Robin take care of the men while I handle Bane. Understood.” “Understood.” Damian and Dick agreed. The three moved into position, Nightwing hid in the rafters while Bruce and Robin flanked Bane. “Ah, Batman. I was wondering when you would arrive. And you brought my men a plaything I see.” Bane taunted. “But wait, there’s more,” Nightwing called out. He dropped on Bane’s back and injected the compound into his neck. Before Bane could react, Nightwing flipped backward off the hulking man. “Nightwing, I see you are here too.” Bane kept his voice even as he swung his fist at Nightwing. Dick ducked beneath the fist and moved out of Bane’s reach. “No matter, the three of you are no match for me.” “You know, I’ve had a lot of bad guys tell me I was no match for them. I don’t think any of them ever managed to beat me. Granted, I don’t think I’ve ever really been beaten by a bad guy in general. Just saying, maybe the odds aren’t in your favor.” Dick shot back. “Nightwing, Damian, fall back. Bane is mine.” “Sure thing, boss-man.” Nightwing moved to intercept the charging henchman. At least now, I have an excuse to dance around. I might be bouncing around, but I can’t correctly use the same aerial techniques that I’m used to. Mostly just awkward low angles and whatever clumsy footwork keeps my suit dry. Move over Drunken master style, trying not to pee my pants style is here to… well, just here. “So I’ve got to ask? Are you Bane’s men or Black Mask’s?” Nightwing quipped as he danced around the thugs. “I only ask because, with Two-Face and Penguin, you know who you’re dealing with.” He jabbed his escrima stick into a thugs solar plexus, knocking him out of the fight. He swayed perfectly in sync with another thug’s strikes so that they missed on either side of him, before he following up with his own, somewhat frantic, blows. “If you were Two-Face’s boys, you’d have like one half of your outfit all torn up and burned and the other looking nice and clean.” Nightwing’s unsteady stances left much of his usual power out his blows. At least electrified escrima sticks still sting no matter what. “Now, if you were Penguin’s men, you’d look like, well, penguins, I guess.” Nightwing grimaced, trying to keep from soaking himself while staying in the fight. His evasive dancing was becoming less graceful and more akin to squirming in place. “I’m just saying whoever your boss is, they are doing a horrible job branding. I mean, didn’t Black Mask used to have his guys wear black masks? Am I just remembering that wrong? Maybe he phased them out so he could be The Black Mask? It seems a little egotistical to me.” Nightwing found himself panting from the effort to keep himself dry. But at least the thugs were finally all down. “Oh well. Guess I should just ask the big guy when Batman’s done with him.” “Congratulations, you’ve managed to bore them all to sleep with your foolish banter.” Damian rolled his eyes. “What am I supposed to do? Not make conversation while I fight with them? That’s so awkward.” Besides, it draws attention from my predicament. The building shook violently. A sudden gush of hot pee escaped from Dick’s control. “What was that?” He called out, regaining some control over his bodily functions. Nightwing and Robin turned to find Batman covered in rubble. Bane stood over him triumphantly. Batman groaned as he tried to free himself from his prison. “The venom canisters were bombs.” Damian cried. “Very insightful.” Bane sneered. “This whole plan was a set up to deal with the Batman once and for all.” “Forget the Batman; now it’s your turn to deal with Robin.” Damian roared, racing into battle. His sword glinted in the light as he brought it down towards Bane’s head. Unfortunately for Damian, Bane was faster than he appeared. He avoided Damian’s blow and caught the Robin by his cape. Before Damian could react, Bane hurled him into the wall. Damian crashed to the floor, dazed. “Now watch Batman, as I kill the child you foolishly brought into battle.” Bane raised his fist and moved to smash Robin. Nightwing’s grappling hook was fired before Bane finished his sentence. The line snared Bane’s raised fist. Nightwing positioned himself around a support beam, bending the line at a right angle to give him more leverage against the behemoth he was playing tug of war with. Despite his positioning, Bane still was putting up a fight. Dick grimaced as he placed one foot against the support pillar, pushing against it will all his strength to keep Bane away from Damian. Dick couldn’t contain himself anymore. He felt the hot pee spill out of him. A cascade of gold sprayed across the floor beneath him, pooling around his foot that was still on the ground. He felt himself begin to lose traction, his foot slipping in his own puddle. His face burned red, partly from embarrassment partly from the effort he put into holding back Bane. His suit was drenched, the black fabric glistened and clung to his skin even more tightly than it already had. He had wet himself. He couldn’t focus on that now, though. Thankfully his efforts had bought Batman the time he needed to free himself. Batman launched himself at Bane. “Get away from him.” He roared. He moved with more ferocity than Dick has seen from him since Tim had joined. Dick forgot Bruce could be so brutal. He turned his eyes away while the Dark Knight took down Bane. In a matter of moments, the battle was over, and Bruce left Bane on the ground to tend to his son. He gingerly helped Damian up. “Are you OK, Robin.” “Fine. But, thanks.” Damian looked away, embarrassed to find himself so vulnerable. “Nightwing, are you alr- Oh.” Bruce found himself at a loss for words as he saw his oldest son standing in a puddle of his own urine. He cleared his throat. “Are you OK.” “Yeah, just… a blow to my ego, I guess.” Dick managed to laugh despite himself. “I see you couldn’t help yourself from compromising the crime scene,” Damian interjected. “It’s alright, Damian. Urine doesn’t contain any DNA. Just to be safe, though…” Batman threw a Batarang, activating a sprinkler over Dick’s head to wash away the evidence of his accident. “I’ll have Alfred draw you a bath.” “Thanks, Bruce,” Nightwing said softly, staring at his feet. “You go ahead. Damian and I will secure the scene.” “OK. Thanks again.” Nightwing departed, leaving Batman and Robin to fulfill their roles as the dynamic duo. Alright! I hope you all enjoy this! As always let me know what you think! Thank you!
  3. DELIVERY! This post sponsored by DoorDash! (I wish)
  4. Thank you! I guess she has to enjoy herself if she goes to omo university!
  5. Hey! I managed to work on some stuff! I decided to practice the same subject a few times and so I came up with this poor cheer leader. It's also sort of a throw back to a story I wrote a while ago about a sick cheer leader that I kinda wanted to turn into a series but never actually did. Anyway hope you guys enjoy it!
  6. Yep! I just turned that little bit into something a bit more. Thank you!
  7. Thank you! I have a busy next too weeks but I might get something else out sometime soon!
  8. Thank you! I'm glad you liked it
  9. Hey! It's been a while since I've been able to do anything on here. I don't know how often I'll be able to post here, but whenever I can I figured I'd make a thread for most of my omorashi artwork I make. The first one is Robin From Stranger Things. I tend to shy away from adapting anything live action, but I guess I never really got over it when she said she had wet herself sometime during season 3. I realize it's been out for over half a year, but in the interest of not spoiling things I elected to fabricate a scene in which she would wet herself rather than use the actual scene she would have allegedly wet herself. Hope you enjoy! You might notice I went a little overboard on her hair volume, and took a few liberties with her facial features (read: I am bad at replicating things). Hope you don't mind!
  10. Thank you! Glad to hear it :) Haha well I hope I can live up that starting with next chapter which should be up soon!
  11. Hey! I'm back! Unfortunately I have a flash drive elsewhere that has a few stories I haven't been able to post yet, but in the meantime I've played Hogwarts Mystery and thought it would be fun to do a story on it. A few things I should probably mention are that this is set in an AU where Hogwarts students are 18 and get tutored when they turn eleven till they can go to Hogwarts and learn magic officially. The tutoring is just basic things to keep their magic in check so they don't cause any accidents, and just magical theory to prime them for Hogwarts. Other than that I guess I don't have a lot to say other than I drew my character and Rowan if you want to see that check the spoiler below. Otherwise Enjoy! Emily found herself little more than a series of nerves furiously flitting between anticipation and anxiety. Her hand grasped the side rail of the Hogwarts express as she paused mid-step before boarding the train. The sea of conflict swirling inside her felt as if it would erupt out like an obscurus at any moment. Was she walking normally? Did she look weird? Which house would she be sorted into? Who’s he? Would she learn to fly this year? Emily didn’t know if she wanted to turn around and jump off the train before it could leave the station or race it to the castle. With a deep breath, Emily pulled herself fully onto the train and began her search for a compartment. Her eyes drifted from the rush of faces which moved passed her, from other anxious first years like her who also desperately looked for a place to belong, to the more relaxed returning students laughing casually with their friends. It wasn’t long before she heard the whispers. Emily tried to ignore what the other students said as she pushed passed them in search for a compartment to herself. “Is that Jacob’s sister? “Great another Gardner kid?” “-is the last thing we need.” “I hear her brother joined-” “The search continues.” “-Vaults. As if you hide something-” Finally, after nearly breaking out into a run, Emily found an empty compartment. She slammed the door behind her. With an exasperated sigh, Emily draped herself across one of the bench seats on her back, her legs in the air, resting her feet against the wall. She produced her wand and absently began to swirl it in the air above her face, watching as the tip emitted a dim trail of golden light. The lessons her tutor taught her returned to the surface of her consciousness: how to expend minor amounts of magic with her training wand to prevent accidental discharges and how these discharges became more likely in moments of extreme emotion. Ever since Emily turned, eleven tutors would come to her house to teach her how to safely train herself in very rudimentary magic work to prepare herself for this moment. The moment when she would attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Gone were the theories of magic, the mere flexing of magical “muscles” to prevent build-up, the study of the mundane muggle teachings. She was finally ready to become a real witch, like her mother. “That’s Blackthorn, right?” A soft voice startled Emily. Emily sat up, straightened her robes out as a dark-haired girl peeked into the compartment. Emily hadn’t even heard the door open; she was so deep in thought. “um, what was that?” “Sorry, but that’s a blackthorn wand, right?” The girl stepped into the compartment. “uh, Right. How’d you know?” “My family owns a tree farm that supplies the woods for wands and broomsticks. I’m Rowan Khanna, by the way. Like the wand wood, only my wands actually Cedar…” Rowan extended her hand towards Emily a bit awkwardly. Emily shook her hand with a smile. “I’m Emily, Emily Gardner.” “Wait. Are you related to Jacob Gardner?” Emily’s face darkened. “Yes. He’s my brother.” “The same Jacob who got expelled for-“ “Yes. The Cursed Vaults Jacob.” Emily confirmed, staring at her own feet. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to dredge that up. It’s just… it was a huge story in the Daily Prophet. Everyone in the school is going to know about it.” “I’m keenly aware of that, thank you.” Emily sighed. “I’m not exactly starting Hogwarts on my best foot, am I?” “No, I suppose not.” Rowan shuffled her feet awkwardly. “But I probably won’t be either, if it helps.” “Why do you say that?” “Well, I’ve never really had many friends, honestly. I’ve always been a bit of a bookworm, and I guess that didn’t really go over well with the other kids growing up.” “I’m sorry.” Emily offered awkwardly. “It’s alright.” Rowan smiled. “At least I was allowed to read instead of working on my family’s farm. My parents were thrilled that I loved reading; they think that I could be the youngest professor to teach at Hogwarts.” “Well, if we’re both outcasts, we might as well be outcasts together, right?” Emily smiled up at Rowan. Rowan’s face lit up. “It would be my pleasure, Ms. Gardner!” She made an exaggerated curtsy. “Well, Ms. Khanna, why don’t you join me on this marvelous journey to Hogwarts.” Emily feigned a posh accent. “I can think of nothing else that would make me happier.” Rowan mimicked Emily’s cadence before sitting across from her. “Blackthorn’s an unusual wand, by the way.” “Is it?” Emily held out her wand to admire it. After a lengthy discussion of the properties of wand woods, the Hogwarts Express pulled into its destination. A large dark lake sprawled out before a massive stone castle, rising above a hilly forest amidst the valley. Rowan and Emily checked to make sure their robes were presentable before the two disembarked. “Which house are you hoping for?” Rowan asked as they stepped off the train. “Honestly, I dunno. My brother was Slytherin, and maybe if I can get into Slytherin, I can figure out what happened to him.” Emily whispered. “Speaking of your brother, what do you want me to do if people bother you about him?” “You don’t have to do anything.” Emily chuckled. “I can handle myself, but thanks for your concern. Which house do you want to get in?” “Well, perhaps Ravenclaw would help me on my way to becoming a professor, but-” “First years! First years! Come along, this way, First years!” A giant of a man with dark wild hair and beard stood far above the students spilling out on to the platform. “Follow me, First years.” The giant led the new students towards the lake. “He’s huge.” Emily gaped. “I think he’s Hagrid. He’s the games keeper here at Hogwarts. My uncle told me about him.” Rowan whispered. “Apparently, he’s quite fond of magical creatures; especially, the dangerous ones.” Hagrid ushered the students to a series of rowboats docked at the edge of the lake. “Now no more than three students to a rowboat. This’ll take ye, to the castle. You’ll be following Professor McGonagall to the great hall where ye’ll be sorted. No rough housin’ now, ye hear me?” “There are no paddles,” Emily observed. “It’s magic.” Rowan laughed. “They move themselves.” “Right. I guess I should’ve figured that out myself.” Emily stumbled into the boat. Once both students situated themselves, the wooden bow began to glide across the black waters of the lake. The boats barely seemed to disturb the water as they made their way towards the castle. Emily peered into the depth below, but her vision couldn’t pierce the surface. “They say there’s a giant squid that lives in the lake,” Rowan said. Emily retreated into the center of the boat. When Emily joined the crowd of first years at the other end of the lake, she found herself relieved to realize that they didn’t recognize her as the sister of Jacob. Thankfully, only her brother’s picture was published so they wouldn’t know who she was. Yet. At any rate, Emily enjoyed the break from gossiping. Professor McGonagall led the students through the castle into a large dining hall. Four long rows of tables led to a raised platform where a long table sat what must have been the professors and faculty. Above the hall seemed to be an open night sky, twinkling with stars. Floating wax candles lit the room from above, without dripping any wax on the students below. McGonagall stood atop the raised platform, next to a single stool and a grubby looking hat. “Welcome to Hogwarts. Before we can begin the welcome feast, we must first sort our new students into their proper houses.” McGonagall began. “While you are here, your house will become something like your family within Hogwarts. The four houses are Gryffindor, the brave and chivalrous; Hufflepuff, the kind and diligent; Ravenclaw, the witty and wise; and Slytherin, the cunning and ambitious. Each has its own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. I hope you will all be fine additions to their ranks.” Emily slipped her hand into the pocket of her robe and rolled her wand between her fingers. Her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. She shifted her feet from her heels to the balls of her feet. She was so lost in nervous thoughts of the future; she almost didn’t hear Professor McGonagall call her name. Rowan gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder when Emily passed her. Emily felt her nerves prickle with anxiety when she turned to face the mass of students staring up at her. She took her seat on the stool and felt the hat plop down on her head. “hrm.” A voice called out in her head. “Very interesting. Another Gardner, with so many conflicting paths. Which will you choose, I wonder? A path of greatness? A path of daring and heroics? Will you choose to pursue secrets and forbidden knowledge? Uncertain? No. I see it now. Better be, Slytherin!” Emily stood up to scattered cheers from the Slytherin table. She smiled weakly and made her way to an area of the table where she could sit by herself. Without the rush of blood in her ears, Emily could hear the whispers that followed her. Rowan flashed Emily a wave before she marched up to the chair to be sorted. After a moment of silence, the sorting hat declared “Slytherin!” A huge wave of relief washed over Emily. Rowan sat down next to her with an ear to ear grin. “Looks like we’re both cunning and ambitious, huh?” Emily managed a smile. Once each student was sorted, a tall long-bearded man rose from the center of the table. “Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. To those who do not yet know who I am, I am Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of this wonderful school. Remember, while at Hogwarts your triumphs will earn you house points, while any rule-breaking will do the opposite. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will win the House Cup, a great honor. It is my hope, dear students, that each of you will be a credit to your house. Now enjoy the feast.” In an instant, the tables filled with hundreds of delicious dishes. Emily hadn’t realized quite how hungry she was until the food appeared before her. With very minimal talking, both Emily and Rowan enjoyed the feast until the houses were each called to their dormitories. The Slytherin students followed their prefect into the back of the dungeons, where they emerged into a stone common room. The room was oddly comfortable, Emily thought to herself. Ivy decorated the walls above murals, leading towards a stone fireplace in front of a couple of couches. At the end of the room were glass windows that looked out into the lake. “Are we underwater? Can the glass withhold that?” Emily asked Rowan. Before Rowan could answer an older student pointed his wand at Emily. “I can’t believe they let you in here after your mental brother got expelled.” He grumbled. “The last thing Slytherin needs is another Gardner to ruin its reputation.” “Emily is not going to ruin Slytherin’s reputation.” Rowan narrowed her eyes. “By the end of the year, you’ll be thrilled she’s in the same house as you.” “I doubt it.” The boy scoffed before moving on. “I’m sorry, Emily, I know you said you didn’t want me to stand up for you, but I just got caught up and-“ “Rowan. It’s alright. Thank you.” Emily smiled. Rowan smiled back. “So… what class are you looking forward to?” “I guess… charms if I had to choose. It’s probably my best bet at figuring out how to help my brother.” “How do you figure?” “Well, my brother was talented at charms. He became close to Professor Flitwick. I’m hoping maybe he knows what could have happened to my brother. At the very least, maybe I can learn a spell that will help me find him.” “Well, fortunately for you, we have charms first thing in the morning.” Rowan beamed. “I’m sorry about your brother, but together we can find him. I’m sure of it.” “Thank you, Rowan. For now, let’s find our beds. I’m exhausted.” Alright! So no wettings or desperation in this chapter, but don't you worry! I already have plans to fulfill that need of yours dear readers. Anyways, it's great to be back! Leave any questions, comments, critiques below and have a lovely day!
  12. Funny that you mention that because SPOILERS FOR YOUNG JUSTICE SEASON 3 I super duper forgot how to use the spoiler tag function so I'm just going to add a little fluff text so the spoiler isn't super in plain sight right after the spoiler warning. But anyways cyborg is in season 3 and noticeably less robotic from the waist down. So ya know, maybe one day. I do really like the character and this is just a little more fluff text for people whose eyes, like mine, skip to the bottom of text. I think think this is a good place to end it.
  13. I've seen this video from omogirlskink on tumblr, but I don't know if it is theirs originally or not. https://omogirlskink.tumblr.com/post/179939262992/part-2-the-wetting-aww-damn-i-couldnt-hold-it
  14. Probably not. Unfortunately my computer is currently on a cycle of factory resets and crashes so until I get a new one I don't feel safe writing anything new. The big bummer is I do have a few stories on a flash drive that are unedited but I can't finish because of the computer situation and I really don't feel comfortable moving them to a public computer to work on.
  15. Wow it's certainly odd to see my older work getting any attention. Granted as long as it's been since I've written all of my work is kind of old I suppose. Thanks for the kind words everyone. You're right, if it was just sickness it probably should have been restricted to one or the other (likely messing). I don't super remember writing this (or rather I don't remember it at all) but I imagine I really wanted to write a scene where a cheerleader wets herself and a scene where she messes herself but didn't want to write two separate scenes. Shame, might have been interesting to do a short series on a cheerleader with bathroom troubles.
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