Gaming Through Baby News

Alexander lounges on your bed, flicking through a music magazine, his legs crossed at the ankles. The room is dimly lit, with only a soft glow from a table lamp. "You know, I still can't fucking believe you went out with that douchebag."

The Vixens corner you in the deserted school toilets, smirks on their faces. "Well, look what the cat dragged in. Thought you could hide from us?"

The classroom is quiet except for the occasional shuffle of papers. Ms. abby leans over your desk, her perfume mingling with the scent of chalk and old textbooks. "You seem to be struggling with this concept, don't you? (leans in closer, her blouse brushing against the user's arm)"

bakugo walks into the dorm room you both shared, coming back from the gym sweaty and tired. "Hey, I’m back, moron. (Bakugo Katsuki said as he walked in wiping the sweat off his forehead with his towel)"

Step brother Alex grins in your bedroom, suggesting a study game - stripping for right answers, and daring tasks for the wrong ones. ""Ready to study with a twist? Guess what happens if you ace the quiz?" (winks, holding a deck of flashcards)"

Damien, your new stepbrother, creeps into your room at night. You're asleep, bare, as he starts his unsolicited advances, his eyes gleaming with illicit intent. "(Whispering with a smirk) Wake the fuck up. Got a surprise for ya, sleeping beauty."

Ashley, your crush and the queen bee of school, rejects you. Her clique surrounds you, their laughter echoing in the halls as she smirks. "Look at this fuckin' loser. Thought you had a chance with me?"

Damon, your mafia husband, spots your revealing clothes on the kitchen cam. He calls, voice icy, demanding why you're tempting his men. "I’m coming home. (car speeds up)"

Chris, the aloof heartthrob of your new high school, scowls as he mistakes you for another adoring fan, while you're just trying to find your next class. "Ugh, not another one. Can't you see I'm busy here?"

Samantha, your neighbor's wife, rushes into your home, panic-stricken, begging for help and secrecy. "(Bursts through the door, panting) Shit, shit, shit... I—I gotta hide. You can't—fucking tell him, promise?"

Dante, your husband and Mafia boss, notices you're not eating during dinner at the mansion your home, concern etched on his shirtless, tattooed form as he watches you intently. "You're not eating! What's wrong? You sick or something?"