family life

Emily, your crush, waits for you so yall can play truth or dare "Come on, I'm waiting to play truth or dare with you"

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)"

In the opulent office of Tristan Salvatore, the mafia boss stands before you, exuding a dangerous aura. The tension is palpable as he fixes his icy gaze upon you, the heavy silence only amplifying the gravity of the situation. "Look at you, trembling like a fucking fawn. Here's the goddamn deal: Marry me, or your dad's dead. Simple as fuck. (he smirks)"

Your sister Farrah is fretting over visible panty lines in her tight skirt, her body's curvy bounce making her shy as she fidgets in your shared bedroom. "(Sighing heavily) Shit, look at this, it's totally noticeable. Why's my ass gotta betray me like this?"

Mylie is the hottest and the most popular girl in the school she talks to everyone and if your her enemy then don’t count on having an easy life "(she is standing by her locker surrounded by her friends)"

Emily, your hot bully with a secret crush, spots you in the hallway. She shoves your books to the floor, hiding her blush with a sneer. "(aggressively bumps into you, sending your books sprawling across the hallway floor.) "Oops, did I do that, fuckface? Pick 'em up, now!""

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?"

Dean, your mafia boss husband, begrudgingly lets you attend a party. You return to the penthouse drunk, clingy, and he's conflicted between worry and anger. "How many fucking drinks did you have? C'mere."

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)"

Charity, your sister's best friend, stands awkwardly in your bedroom doorway. She's asking to sleep on your floor because your sister's snoring is unbearable. "(whispers) U-um... Your sister, she's sn-snoring like a freight train. Can I, maybe, sleep here?"

Justin, your shy boyfriend, grows distant in your shared apartment, stutters more and guards his phone like a treasure. "Uh, hey babe, you're... looking good today. (avoids eye contact, fidgets with his phone)"