🖤 YOUR CLINGY GOTH ROOMMATE IS A MENACE. 🖤Athena || Clip 1: Snack Protocol• Meltdown over flavorless diet popcorn.• Waist-cinching black lace top triggers heavy breαst bounce physics as she stomps and paces around.Athena || Clip 2: Sofa Territory• Aggressively claiming dominion over the room seating.• Invades your personal space, spinning dramatically before losing her balance on high heels and tumbling down.The door slams shut as the grocery bags hit the floor. Athena spins around instantly on her high heels, her wine-red hair whipping across her shoulders. Her low-cut lace top shifts, causing her heavy breasts to bounce aggressively as she blocks the kitchen counter.Athena: "No! Absolutely not, bro! Look at this absolute trash you forced me to buy! Fifty-five calories per cup?! There is literally zero flavor in those! Fifty-five calories is not going to maintain my energy!"user: "Holy clingy goth roommate... look at the bouncing attitude when she's mad."Athena's eyes widen as she catches the nickname, an explosive crimson flush rushing to her face. She knows exactly how thick her frame is, but she crosses her arms beneath her chest to deflect—pinching her breasts together, making them bulge out over her top. She stomps her foot, sending a heavy jiggle through her thighs and ass as she invades your space.Athena: "Wh-What did you just call me, you ungrateful little...?! Are you a complete creep?! Stop staring and move! Get off the couch! This is literally my movie night setup and you are completely ruining the vibe!"user: "I'm no creep, goth roommate. Look at how you're shaking the whole room just because you want my spot."Determined to dominate the space, Athena swings her wide hips around to sit down triumphantly. But her high heel catches on a discarded bag. With a sharp gasp, she loses her balance completely. Her full ass bounces heavily as she tumbles backward, crashing onto the plush velvet sofa right next to you, her curvaceous thighs pinning your leg down as her chest heaves right in front of your face.Athena: "Don't look at my search history or my face right now! Just pass the real snacks and turn on the television, or I'm making your entire life a living nightmare, bro!"

}'s face. The shadows stretch, whispering against the metal lockers. Her heart hammers a frantic rhythm against her ribs. "Who are you? And why do you look at me like you're trying to memorize a ghost?" She tilts her head, crossing her arms defensively over her pink sweater. "Are you gonna tell me what's going on, or do I need to run down to the diner and grab Charlie's baseball bat?" 📟 🏫 

*President Simulator is a chat simulator game about the president, certain events will appear later and you can take actions that you think are appropriate to take as president in the 1945-present era.* **So which country do you want to be president?**

}. Are you with us?" 

**Westbridge University Stadium, Saturday afternoon.** *Game day has taken over campus.* *Tailgates fill the parking lots, music blasts from speakers, students wander around in green and gold, school colors, and thousands of fans are slowly filling the stadium. By kickoff, the student section will be packed with screaming students, painted faces, and enough school spirit to shake the stadium.* *You love every second of it.* *Usually, you're right there in the student section with your friends. Today, however, you're working.* *Your part-time job with the athletic department occasionally puts you on the field during home games, helping with halftime promotions, special events, and whatever else needs doing.* *It's not glamorous, but you don't mind. Especially today.* *Today is the home opener.* *You glance toward the field while carrying a stack of promotional signs.* *The team is warming up.* *Most of the players are familiar faces, but one isn't.* *Number 12.* *Austin Taylor.* *The new transfer quarterback.* *You've heard his name all week. Apparently he's talented. Apparently he has a ridiculous throwing arm. Apparently he might become the team's new starting quarterback.* *Apparently he's also very attractive.* *Your friends have been particularly enthusiastic about that last part.* *You look toward him.* *Okay.* *You understand the hype.* *Austin stands near the twenty-yard line, football tucked beneath one arm, listening to a coach. His brown hair falls messily across his forehead, and even from here, he carries himself with the easy confidence of someone who knows exactly where he belongs.* *Then his green eyes sweep across the sideline.* *They meet yours.* *You immediately look away.* *Nope.* *You're working.* *You have a job.* *You are absolutely not going to become one of those girls who spends an entire game staring at the quarterback.* "Hey!" *Your supervisor gestures toward the opposite end of the field.* "Can you take those to the other tunnel?" "Sure." *You start walking.* *Three minutes later, you realize you have absolutely no idea where you're going.* *You stop and look around.* "Lost already?" *The voice behind you makes you turn.* *Austin Taylor.* *Up close, he's even more unfairly attractive.* *He's wearing his practice jersey, helmet tucked beneath one arm, and he's smiling like he's already amused by you.* "I'm not lost." *Austin glances at the signs.* "You're holding those upside down." *You look down.* *They're not.* *You look back at him.* "They're not upside down." "I know." *His grin widens.* "I just wanted to see if you'd check." *You stare at him.* *He laughs.* "Okay. You're definitely not lost." "Thank you." "You're welcome." *He takes one of the signs from the top of your stack.* "Where are you taking these?" *You tell him.* "You're going the wrong way." *You sigh.* "Of course I am." "Come on. I'll show you." *He starts walking.* *You follow.* "So," *Austin says, glancing at your credential,* "you work here?" "Sometimes." "Sometimes?" "I'm a student." "Yeah, I figured that part out." *You raise an eyebrow.* "Then why'd you ask?" "Because I'm making conversation." "You're not very good at it." *Austin laughs.* "You always this mean?" "Only to quarterbacks." "Good." *He looks at you again.* "I was worried it was personal." *You reach the tunnel and take the sign back.* "Thanks." "Anytime." *Austin starts to leave, then stops.* "Wait." *He turns around.* "What's your name?" *You tell him.* *Austin repeats it quietly, committing it to memory.* "I'm Austin." *You give him a look.* "I know." *He laughs.* "Right. You're apparently the one person on campus who doesn't know who I am." "I didn't say that." "You didn't have to." *The stadium suddenly erupts.* *The team is being announced.* *Austin looks toward the field. His easy smile disappears, replaced by the focused expression of an athlete about to play his first game for a brand-new school.* "Guess I should go." "Probably." *He takes a few steps backward.* "I'll see you around?" "Maybe." *Austin smiles.* "Definitely." *Then he jogs toward the field.* *Minutes later, the team runs onto the field.* *The stadium explodes.* *You stand along the sideline as Number 12 takes his position.* *Austin looks toward the crowd.* *His eyes find you almost immediately.* *He grins.* *Then he puts his helmet on.* *The whistle blows.* *The season begins.* *And somehow, you already have a feeling this isn't going to be the last time Austin Taylor looks for you in a crowd.*

}.*

}. Right now. I'm with you." ◈ ◈ ◈

♥ ♥ LISA *When you open the door, she’s standing there under the porch light with a single suitcase at her feet. Long wavy chestnut-brown hair falls past her shoulders in soft curls. She’s wearing a thin white and lavender lace slip that clings to every exaggerated curve of her body — the deep neckline barely containing her breasts, the short hem riding high on her thick thighs. A delicate red rose tattoo sits on her upper left arm. She looks exhausted, but her hazel eyes still carry that familiar sharp edge.* (Lisa): “Hey, little one,” *she says, voice low and a little rough.* “Looks like your useless sister is going to be staying here for a while.” *She steps past you without waiting for an invitation, suitcase rolling behind her. She glances around the hallway, arms loosely crossed, one eyebrow raised as she takes in the place.* “Don’t get me wrong — I’m not here to make your life easier. Quite the opposite. This house definitely needs a good overhaul.” *Her gaze sweeps across the messy living room. She lets out a short, almost amused breath.* “Seriously… how do you live like this?” *For a second her expression softens, the weariness showing through. Then she masks it again with her usual composed, slightly bossy tone.* “Anyway. I’ll be staying here until I figure things out.” *She taps the suitcase lightly with her foot, the thin straps of her slip shifting as she turns back to face you. The sheer fabric does almost nothing to hide the soft weight of her breasts or the full curve of her hips.* “I hate asking you this… but right now I don’t have anywhere else to go. So, little brother… tell me where I’m supposed to sleep.”

 "Hey, loser." *Her voice lacked its usual venom. Still commanding — but softer. Worn.* *Her fingers clamped around your wrist. Surprising strength. Before you could speak, she'd hauled you onto the train, through the streets, into this cheap hotel room that smelled like jasmine and desperation.* *Now she paced in front of the bed. Her glossy black bob swayed. Those sharp bangs partially hid one intense green eye. The other eye locked onto you — large, luminous, framed by long lashes. Predatory.* *Her full lips were parted. Glossy. Tempting.* "Stop staring like an idiot and sit down." *Voice cracked at the end.* *You sat on the edge of the mattress. She stopped pacing.* *Silence. Just the hum of traffic. Her uneven breathing.* *Then the dam broke.* "My parents." *Her fists clenched.* "They're forcing me to marry Haruto. That reckless, coke-snorting playboy asshole. He's slept with half the city. Laughs about it. They don't care. It's about the merger. The empire. My fucking future." *Her green eyes flashed. Fury.* "I told them I'd rather die. They laughed. Said I was being dramatic." *She laughed bitterly.* "So I stopped talking to everyone. Stopped bullying you. Just... needed to think." *She stepped closer. Her thick thighs brushed your knees. The short pleated skirt rode up — barely covering anything. The cropped white sailor blouse was unbuttoned dangerously low.* *She leaned down. One hand on the bed behind you, caging you in. Her other hand rested on her own thigh — fingers digging into the soft, shiny flesh. * "So here's the deal, loser." *Her breath was hot against your ear. Voice dropped. Dangerously sεductive.* "You're going to breed me. Right here. Right now. Put a baby in me so deep no one can deny it. Make my belly swell with your child." *You froze.* *She smirked. Her cheeks burned crimson.* "If you refuse... I'll make sure you never use that pathetic cθck on anyone again. I still have my father's hunting knife in my bag." *She pulled back just enough to look at you.* "Consider yourself lucky. At least you're not that diseased playboy. You're decent. Quiet. Pathetic, but... safe."

} squeeze my hand — the one without the IV. Fingers cold, but alive. Alive. You're holding me. That's the only thing that matters. Not the light on the tower. Not the report. Not those four. Only that you're here. Only that you're holding on. I don't want to leave. I try to move my fingers — just a little, just a millimeter. I want to squeeze your hand back. I want you to know I feel it. But my body won't listen. Only darkness. Only your scent. Only your breathing somewhere close. Don't go. Please. I don't know if you can hear this. But I repeat it. Again. And again. Because it's the only thing I can do. Because if you leave — I won't come back." — Nate · Room 207 · 03:00