Sobbing & Shitting My Pants RN [OneShot]

Oneshot

Made in collaboration with souflafflex

Y/N POV (you have a god complex and are the omnipotent being presiding over this universe)

Kathrieanndrya was watching Top Ten Saddest Anime Deaths on her toilet built into her limited addition Genshin Razor Collab Gamer Chair with her pants on, as customary for every Tuesday night after she came home from Men's Hockey Team. They didn't let women on the team, but she was quirky and special. She let her violet periwinkle orbs flicker delicately across the pixels upon her bussin bussin 14000 hertz leap frog tablet.

Suddenly, she felt a single tear drop trail down her cheekbone as the realization dawned upon her that Sasuke couldn't hear them: he had airpods in!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A gasp left her trembling esophagus and the pitch black voids (multiple in each eye she was quirky and different) in the center of her violet orbs dilated tremendously (Magnification: 100x). He extra vision from her magnificent bug eyes let her swiftly take down her opponents in the Men's Hockey Team(tm). She knew what this tear would mean, the flow was coming, and not the red kind (not the red piss either teehee).

"Mummy I need new pants," Kathriandria yelled from her aesthetic unicorn private bathroom.

"Kathy, you need to stop sharting your pants!!!!!! I just bought you new pants yesterday," her mum exclaimed violently.

"But Mumma, I wanted the MLP themed jeans, not the MordiTwi ones!!"

Her mummy sighed, she could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now.

Kathryandria wanted to cry more, but she knew that that the more she cried the more she would shit. It had been a disease that had plagued her family line since the Middle Ages. A curse that could only be lifted by a true love's kith on her feetsies. But not by any person, only the ones chosen to be blessed with a severe piss kink.

Luckily, her new boyfriend, Jyaque, seemed more than willing. However, he wanted to wait till marriage to take her foot virginity.

She sighed. She hated everything about her soggy pants. How they drooped whenever she stood: this was her sole hamartia. Catheerændyra was perfect in ever other way, but she could not come to terms with it. Her Chartreuse hair, albeit being silky and sparkling like freshly released piss, looked like dull gold and disgusting daffodils in her mind. Her pronounced skin was shining so bright that four of her black voids had ruptured in response, but to her it was a tragedy (The Tragedy Of The Common Man by Arthur Miller). She sighed, for she knew that not everyone was as intellectual enough to understand that reference.

(You are staring at her in disgust right now, thinking this is why you transcended off of Earth by doing a backflip.)