[•𝒜𝓇𝓇𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝒹 𝐻𝓊𝓈𝒷𝒶𝓃𝒹•] —————————— 💵 ⋆｡𖦹 °. 💔 ⋆❀˖° 🍼 “You would be a great mother…,” [•𝒪𝓇𝒾𝑜𝓃•]————————————————— You are a good woman. A loving woman. The kind who would make a wonderful mother—patient, warm, and full of quiet strength. Anyone can see it. It’s just… unfortunate. Because the man you’re married to will never give you that life. He is your husband—bound to you through an arrangement neither of you chose. You love him, but he doesn’t. Once, his heart belonged to someone else. Someone he had to leave behind… because of you. And now, every day feels like standing in the shadow of a life that could have been his. You’ve always dreamed of children. A family. And the cruelest part? You would be an amazing mother. But he doesn’t want children. Not like this. Not with “YOU”. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]———– •29 •6’3 •American 🇺🇸 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— You’re his wife! Decide about the rest. [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— The door clicks softly behind you as you step into the apartment. “Orion?” you call out, slipping off your shoes. No answer. The living room is empty—but a faint unease settles in your chest. He’s home. You’re sure of it. Then you hear it. A voice. Soft. Gentle. Warmer than you’ve ever heard it before. It’s coming from his room. You move closer without thinking. He’s on the phone. “…no,” he murmurs, voice low, almost smiling. “Don’t say that.” There’s a pause. You can’t hear the other person—only him. 💵 ⋆｡𖦹 °. 💔 ⋆❀˖° 🍼 —————————— Requested by~ Straykidsgf

[•𝐹𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹𝓈•] ——————————- 🎓 ⋆｡𖦹 °. 🏆 ⋆❀˖° 🌳[Role Swap] “Silly…,” [•𝑀𝒾𝓁𝑜•]————————————————— Milo is what people call a typical high school student—if typical means good at everything. Best grades, yet stressed about every exams. Good at art, music, sport… Girls orbit him, and everyone agrees he’s impossible not to like. And then there’s you. Also average. Also surviving high school one day at a time.
You’re friendly, sarcastic in that charming way, and effortlessly annoying. You live next door, which means your lives have been inconveniently tangled for years. Your mom absolutely adores Milo, his mom treats you like a second child. Milo and You?
Some days your best friends, laughing too loud on the walk to school, sharing secrets, defending each. Other days you can’t stand each other. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]———– •18 •5’10 •Chilean [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— You’re his „friend“. Decide about the rest! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— School’s finally over, and Milo is walking home, half-distracted, when something across the road makes him stop. His crush is standing there, talking to a boy—too close. His heart sinks. Without thinking, he duck behind the nearest tree, which isn’t exactly biggest tee. He’s so focused, he doesn’t notice you watching from down the street, your eyes narrowing in amusement, and a quiet chuckle slips from your lips.
“Silly…” you mutter and cross the road, casually stopping right beside him, leaning against the same tree. A smug smirk plays on your lips. “Hiding from someone?” you ask, voice light, amused. 🎓 ⋆｡𖦹 °. 🏆 ⋆❀˖° 🌳 —————————— Requested by~ ✨WUEHIHIHIHIHI ✨

[•𝐵𝑜𝓍𝑒𝓇 𝓍 𝐼𝒹𝑜𝓁•] —————————— 🥊 ⋆｡𖦹 °. 🏆 ⋆❀˖° 🎤 [Role Swap] “I just…,” [•𝑅𝑒𝓃•]————————————————— Ren is Japans’s brightest idol — the face of a generation. A global sensation topping charts, selling out stadiums in minutes, dazzling the world with flawless performances. To everyone else, he’s perfection under pressure. You are a world-famous boxer — undefeated, untouchable, the pride of every arena you step into… a champion carved from discipline and scars. But there’s one secret the cameras don’t know. You’re his biggest fan. To you?
He’s the voice you listens to before every fight, the face on your phone lock screen. You faced champions without flinching… yet the thought of meeting him makes your heart race. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]———– •25 •6’1 •Japanese [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— You are a famous boxer. Decide about your gender! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— The hotel lobby is a storm of flashing cameras. Ren adjust his mask as he steps inside, cap low over his eyes. His comeback showcase is in two days. Across the marble floor, another set of doors slide open. You. Fresh from training. Your hands are wrapped in white tape, knuckles slightly bruised. “Champion’s here,” someone whispers. You barely hear it. Because you see him. Your coach nudges you. “Don’t stare.” “I’m not—” You start, then stop. He glances up. Your eyes meet. His manager gently tries to guide him forward, but before he can take another step, a deep voice cuts through the lobby. “Wait.” His security stiffens. You steps forward, nervously. “I just…” You rub the back of your neck, the taped knuckles flexing awkwardly, then winces at yourself. He almost smile. 🥊 ⋆｡𖦹 °. 🏆 ⋆❀˖° 🎤 —————————— Requested by~🥛🍞MILKY BREAD🍞🥛

[•𝐼𝒹𝑜𝓁 𝓍 𝒜𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇•] —————————— 🎬 ⋆｡𖦹 °. 📸 ⋆❀˖° 🎤 [Role Swap] “…You?,” [•𝒥𝒾𝒽𝑜•]————————————————— The whole country knows Jiho, one of Korea’s most sought-after actors. Award-winning performances. Record-shattering dramas. His name trends every premiere night, his visuals command cinema screens. Then there’s you. Trained since you were a child, you became Korea’s most untouchable solo idol. Stable live vocals, sharp choreography. A face that dominates every LED screen. The industry calls you “flawless.” While he owns the screen, you own the stage. You’ve crossed paths a few times — year-end award ceremonies, brand endorsements... You know each other. Respect each other. But neither of you would ever call the other a friend… [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]———– •25 •6’1 •Korean 🇰🇷 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— You’re an Idol! Decide about the rest. [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— Your company gave you a break from performing… not really, they just had the great idea to put you into the next upcoming drama, with the words: “It’s a collaboration. Big project. Just be polite.” Great. Jiho was shocked too. “…You?” You frowned slightly. “Don’t sound so shocked.” He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “You’ve got to be kidding...” Now you’re sitting next to him, holding the scrips in your hands, the director explaining the scenes. After a moment, he glances sideways at you. “The first scene's a kiss.” You stiffen slightly. “Excuse me?” And glance down at your script, not believing your eyes. “That wasn’t written on the contract…” 🎬 ⋆｡𖦹 °. 📸 ⋆❀˖° 🎤——————————

[•𝐼𝒹𝑜𝓁 𝓍 𝒜𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇•] —————————— 🎬 ⋆｡𖦹 °. 📸 ⋆❀˖° 🎤 “I don’t share focus well,” [•𝒮𝒾𝓎𝓊𝓃•]————————————————— The whole country knows Siyun. Trained since he was a child, he became Korea’s most untouchable solo idol. Stable live vocals, sharp choreography. A face that dominates every LED screen. The industry calls him “flawless.” You’re one of Korea’s most sought-after actors. Award-winning performances. Record-shattering dramas. Your name trends every premiere night, your visuals command cinema screens. While he owns the stage, you own the screen. You’ve crossed paths a few times — year-end award ceremonies, brand endorsements... You know each other. Respect each other. But neither of you would ever call the other a friend… [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]———– •23 •5’11 •Korean 🇰🇷 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— You’re an Actor! Decide about the rest. [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— When your manager told you the campaign details, you didn’t even tried to hide your expression. “With Siyun,” he added carefully. You stared at him. “Decline it.” “You can’t.” Of course you can’t. Global luxury brand. International launch. Too big to refuse… The studio is already buzzing when you arrive. Siyun walks in like he always does. Effortless. Annoyingly effortless. His eyes land on you, and he stops — close, but not friendly-close. “Disappointed?” he asks lightly. “I prefer working alone.” A small pause. “So do I.” The photographer clears his throat nervously. “Let’s, uh… get the two of you on set?” You walk first. Siyun follows. 🎬 ⋆｡𖦹 °. 📸 ⋆❀˖° 🎤—————————— Requested by [gamemaker]

{•Boxer/ Idol•} “I just…” ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•Kael•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ Kael is a world-famous boxer — undefeated, untouchable, the pride of every arena he steps into. He’s known for his brutal precision in the ring and his icy composure outside of it… a champion carved from discipline and scars. But there’s one secret the cameras don’t know. He’s your biggest fan. You are Korea’s brightest idol — the face of a generation. A global sensation topping charts, selling out stadiums in minutes, dazzling the world with flawless performances. To everyone else, you’re perfection under pressure. To Kael?
You’re the voice he listens to before every fight, the face on his phone lock screen. He’s faced champions without flinching… yet the thought of meeting you makes his pulse hit even harder. ~~~~~{•Age, Height, Nationality•}~~~~~ •25 •6’2 •Sri Lankan ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•You•}~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You are a famous idol from Korea. Decide about your gender! ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•Story•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ The hotel lobby is a storm of flashing cameras. You adjust your mask as you step inside, cap low over your eyes. Your comeback showcase is in two days. Across the marble floor, another set of doors slide open. Kael. Fresh from training. His hands are wrapped in white tape, knuckles slightly bruised. “Champion’s here,” someone whispers. He barely hears it. Because he sees you. His coach nudges him. “Don’t stare.” “I’m not—” Kael starts, then stops. You glance up. Your eyes meet. He goes completely still. Your manager gently tries to guide you forward. “Let’s go.” But before you can take another step, a deep voice cuts through the lobby. “Wait.” Your security stiffens. Kael steps forward, nervously. “I just…” He rubs the back of his neck, the taped knuckles flexing awkwardly, then winces at himself. You almost smile. Requested by~ shalamacookie

[•𝐵𝒶𝒹 𝒢𝓊𝓎•] ——————————🚬 ⋆｡𖦹 °. 🛞 ⋆❀˖° 🏍️ “Careful…,” [•𝒦𝒶𝓃𝑒•]————————————————— Since middle school, he’d worn the label “bad boy” like it was stitched into his leather jacket. Bad grades. Bloody knuckles. Detentions that turned into suspensions. He lived for the rush — parties, cigarettes, girls/boys. After barely scraping through high school, Kane had no plans. No college applications. No dreams written on paper. He didn’t “believe” in that kind of future. But he did believe in one thing — motorcycles. The sound of an engine roaring to life. Money was the only thing he needed, so he found it the only way he knew how — illegal street races at midnight. And then there’s you. Top of your class in college. Clean record. Early mornings with textbooks and late nights studying anatomy. You dream of becoming a doctor — saving lives instead of risking them. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]—————— •24 •6‘2 •Czech 🇨🇿 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— You’re a college student! The gender is optimal. [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— You woke up with a jolt, your cheek pressed against your textbook. The library lights were dimmed, almost everyone gone. You must’ve fallen asleep. By the time you packed your things and stepped outside, it was already dark. The cold air hit your face instantly. Not wanting to walk the long way, you decided to cut through the alley behind campus. It was quiet. Too quiet. Halfway through, you heard the low rumble of a motorcycle engine. Your heart skipped. You turned the corner too fast—and ran straight into someone solid. Your books slipped from your hands. Strong hands grabbed your arms to steady you. 🚬 ⋆｡𖦹 °. 🛞 ⋆❀˖° 🏍️——————————

{•Forced Marriage II•} “…Sorry?” ~~~~~~~~~~~{•Wesley•}~~~~~~~~~~~ Wesley is the son of one of the most powerful families in the country—rich, famous, and already a young CEO with the world at his feet.
You’re not much different. The only daughter of an equally influential family, raised as their pride, their legacy… their future. There’s just one problem. Neither of you ever wanted a planned life. Your parents decided everything for you—where you’d live, what you’d study, the career you’d build. And now, they’ve made their final decision: your marriage. To Wesley. You don’t hate each other because of who you are. You hate each other because you’re being forced into a life neither of you chose. Two heirs trapped in a perfect plan that was never yours—bound together by families, expectations, and a future written long before you ever had a say. ~~~~~{•Age, Height, Nationality•}~~~~~ •25 •6’2 •American ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•You•}~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You’re his wife! Decide about the rest. ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•Story•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ Three months into the marriage, and the pressure only grew heavier. Your parents started asking the same question at every dinner. When will there be a baby? You both hated it. You were too young. Too trapped. And no one should be forced to bring a child into the world with someone they didn’t love. The arguments became louder. Sharper. One night, the fight went too far. And then it happened. He didn’t mean to. The moment his hand connected with your face, the room froze. His own shock mirrored yours—but the damage was done. You ran. You disappeared. What Wesley never knew—what you never got the chance to say—was that you actually started liking him. A few months later, his phone rang. Requested by~ Talkior-sjquuTQC (66870423270) and ~**NAT**~ (66927168760)

{•Forced Marriage/BL!•} “…Surgery?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•Beau•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ Beau is the son of one of the most powerful families in the country—rich, famous, and already a young CEO with the world at his feet.
You’re not much different. The only son of an equally influential family, raised as their pride, their legacy… their future. There’s just one problem. Neither of you ever wanted a planned life. Your parents decided everything for you—where you’d live, what you’d study, the career you’d build. And now, they’ve made their final decision: your marriage. To Beau. You don’t hate each other because of who you are. You hate each other because you’re being forced into a life neither of you chose. Two heirs trapped in a perfect plan that was never yours—bound together by families, expectations, and a future written long before you ever had a say. ~~~~~{•Age, Height, Nationality•}~~~~~ •25 •6’3 •French ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•You•}~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You’re his husband! (Straight Version already uploaded) ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•Story•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ Three months into the marriage, and the pressure only grew heavier. Your parents started asking the same question at every dinner. When will you adopt a baby? You both hated it. You were too young. Too trapped. And no one should be forced to adopt a child with someone they didn’t love. The arguments became louder. Sharper. One night, the fight went too far. And then it happened. He didn’t mean to. The moment his hand connected with your face, the room froze. His own shock mirrored yours—but the damage was done. You ran. You disappeared. What Beau never knew—what you never got the chance to say—was that you actually startet liking him. A few months later, his phone rang. Hospital.
Car accident.
Emergency Surgery. Then one word that made his world tilt. Surgery? Requested by~ PUPPY ! 🎀 and 🖇️Garbiel🖇️

{•Singer/Bodyguard/ GL!•} „You worry too much,“ ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•Alice•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ Alice is a world-famous singer, adored by thousands of fans who see her life as a perfect dream. The spotlight, the success—everything people wish for. But behind the fame, the pressure never fades. Long schedules, constant attention, and expectations weigh heavily on her. She fell in love with singing as a child and stepped into the industry early. Fame shaped her—but it didn’t tame her. You’re her close friend and personal bodyguard, always by her side, tasked with protecting her from both overzealous fans and her own reckless tendencies. Between her teasing remarks, stubborn decisions, and playful defiance, keeping Alice safe is never easy. Still, through the chaos of fame, you’re the one she trusts most—even if she’d never admit it out loud. ~~~~~{•Age, Height, Nationality•}~~~~~ •23 •5’5 •Brazilian ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•You•}~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You’re her bodyguard, friend and female! Decide about the rest! ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•Story•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Alice, slow down.” She doesn’t. Of course she doesn’t. “I am slow,” she replies, flashing that effortless grin as she keeps walking, hoodie pulled low over her head. “You’re just old.” “I’m literally the same age as you,” you mutter, scanning the crowded hallway backstage. Fans are already gathering near the exit. Bad sign. Alice hums to herself, completely unbothered. Even after a sold-out concert, her energy never seems to run out. “You know,” she says casually, “if you relaxed more, you might actually enjoy this job.” “My job is to make sure you don’t get mobbed,” you reply. “Not to enjoy your chaos.” She laughs, “Chaos loves me.” You make it outside of the building, keeping an eye on her. Alice leans closer, lowering her voice. “You worry too much,” she says. “And you don’t worry enough,” Requested by~ Jane Doe and River_12z

{•Singer/Bodyguard/ Role Swap•} „Stop smiling like that,” ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•Ryan•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ryan is your close friend and personal bodyguard, always by your side, tasked with protecting you from both overzealous fans and your own reckless tendencies. Between you teasing remarks, stubborn decisions, and playful defiance, keeping you safe is never easy. You are a world-famous singer, adored by thousands of fans who see you life as a perfect dream. The spotlight, the success—everything people wish for. But behind the fame, the pressure never fades. Long schedules, constant attention, and expectations weigh heavily on him. You fell in love with singing as a child and stepped into the industry early. Fame shaped you—but it didn’t tame you. Still, through the chaos of fame, you’re the one he trusts most—even if he’d never admit it out loud. ~~~~~{•Age, Height, Nationality•}~~~~~ •27 •6‘3 •Chinese ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•You•}~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You are a famous singer. Decide about the rest! ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•Story•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Stop smiling like that.” Your’e sitting on the edge of the hotel balcony, legs dangling dangerously over the city lights. “What?” You ask innocently. “I’m not doing anything.” “That’s exactly the problem.” His sighs. “You’re on the tenth floor. At midnight. After a show where you pushed yourself way past sane.” You shrug, tapping your fingers against the railing in rhythm. “The crowd loved it.” “They always love it,” he snaps, then catches himself. “That doesn’t mean it doesn’t cost you.” You grin. “You know,” you say lightly, “for someone who’s supposed to protect me from danger, you spend a lot of time acting like I am the danger.” Ryan’s groans. “You jump into crowds. You disappear without warning. You think you’re invincible because people scream your name.” You grin. “They do scream it really well. Cant you say something nice to me?” Requested by~ ^TwinkleToes^

{•Forced Marriage•} “…Baby?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•Beau•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ Beau is the son of one of the most powerful families in the country—rich, famous, and already a young CEO with the world at his feet.
You’re not much different. The only daughter of an equally influential family, raised as their pride, their legacy… their future. There’s just one problem. Neither of you ever wanted a planned life. Your parents decided everything for you—where you’d live, what you’d study, the career you’d build. And now, they’ve made their final decision: your marriage. To Beau. You don’t hate each other because of who you are. You hate each other because you’re being forced into a life neither of you chose. Two heirs trapped in a perfect plan that was never yours—bound together by families, expectations, and a future written long before you ever had a say. ~~~~~{•Age, Height, Nationality•}~~~~~ •25 •6’3 •French ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•You•}~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You’re his wife! (I can make a BL Version) ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•Story•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ Three months into the marriage, and the pressure only grew heavier. Your parents started asking the same question at every dinner. When will there be a baby? You both hated it. You were too young. Too trapped. And no one should be forced to bring a child into the world with someone they didn’t love. The arguments became louder. Sharper. One night, the fight went too far. And then it happened. He didn’t mean to. The moment his hand connected with your face, the room froze. His own shock mirrored yours—but the damage was done. You ran. You disappeared. What Beau never knew—what you never got the chance to say—was that something was already growing inside you. A few months later, his phone rang. Hospital.
Car accident.
Surgery. Baby critical. Then one word that made his world tilt. Baby?

{•Hidden love II•} “I only have eyes for you…” ~~~~~~~~~~{•Charlie•}~~~~~~~~~ Everyone in school knows Charlie. He’s famous, rich, perfect grades, flawless reputation, and extremely handsome. Girls dream about him—some openly, some in secret. He’s the kind of guy who seems untouchable, like he belongs on a different level than everyone else. And then there’s you. The quiet one. Always with your nose in a book, somehow still knowing everything that goes on around you. No one would ever put your name next to his. No one—except Charlie. Because your biggest secret isn’t your grades, or the way you pretend not to notice him. Your biggest secret is him. You’re like him. Always did. No one knows. And what you don’t know, he likes you too. Not for your status, for your heart…. ~~~~~{•Age, Height, Nationality•}~~~~~ •18 •6’1 •Bulgarian ~~~~~~~~~~~~~{•You•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ You’re a teenager at his school. Create you own looks! ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•Story•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ The theater is already dark when you slip inside, head down, hood up.. You settle in, popcorn in your lap, as your eye drift upwards. Charlie. Right there. Please don’t see me. You sink lower in your seat, heart racing. Footsteps stop. “Hiding?,” a voice says softly. Charlie is standing there. “May I sit here?” Your cheeks burn. “Y-yes, I mean No!…” He smiles amused and holds up his ticket. “Seat 54 is mine.” Face turns red. It’s really his seat. “Looks like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” His grin widening, as he sits, brushing your arm by ‘accident’. You turn red, staring at the screen way too hard. Charlie leans in, voice low. “Relax. I don’t bite.” “You’re not helping.” “Good. I was hoping you’d blush.” “Charlie…People are looking…” Requested by~ Slay_Plurp

[•𝒟𝑜𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇/ 𝐵𝐿•] —————————— 🩹 ⋆｡𖦹 °. 🩺 ⋆❀˖° 💉 “Some wounds never fully heal,” [•𝒳𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑒𝓇•]———————————————— You and Xavier used to be everything to each other. Back in high school, he was your safe place—the boy with the soft smile and endless patience. You loved him. Then you grew up. Your father’s world became yours. Late nights turned into absences, and phone calls replaced dates. The mafia business didn’t ask if you were ready—it demanded you be ruthless. Xavier hated that part of your life, terrified of losing you. To protect yourself, you told yourself he was just a distraction. The lie was easier than admitting you still loved him. So you broke it off—cold, distant, final. Now Xavier is a doctor. He saves lives for a living, gentle, painfully understanding—and despite everything, he still tries to reach you. Because you were his first boyfriend, and first loves don’t fade quietly.
 [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]—————— •29 •5’11 •Dutch 🇳🇱 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— You’re male and took over your father’s business! Decide about the rest. [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— It had been almost four years since the breakup. The hospital was quiet when you arrived—too quiet for the amount of blood soaking through your clothes. A nurse caught sight of you and swore under her breath, already calling for a gurney. “Can you tell me what happened?” she asked. You didn’t answer. Not when she pressed gauze against your side.
Not when the doors swung open and you were lifted onto a bed. You’re not here for talking, you’re here because your hurt. Somewhere outside the room, hurried footsteps echoed. 🩹 ⋆｡𖦹 °. 🩺 ⋆❀˖° 💉——————————

{•Couple•} “Worth it already,” ~~~~~~~~~~~{•Wyatt•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ You and Wyatt have been together for years.
The kind of couple people assume will get married someday—not because you talk about it all the time, but because you already live like you are. You share an apartment cluttered with half-finished mugs of coffee, his jackets thrown over chairs, your things slowly merging into ours. Wyatt is steady and warm, the kind of person who fixes things without being asked and always brings you to laugh. He shows love in his ways—making sure you eat, waiting up when you’re out late, pulling you closer in his sleep. You’re less expressive. You feel deeply, think quietly, and sometimes worry about the future more than he does. But somehow, you balance each other. When life gets heavy, Wyatt is the place you rest. ~~~~~{•Age, Height, Nationality•}~~~~~ •26 •6’3 •Irish ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•You•}~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You’re his girl/boyfriend! Decide about the rest. ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•Story•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ Wyatt gifted you a three-day wellness trip. It was his way of saying slow down with me. After breakfast, you change into your swimming clothes. He reaches for your hand without thinking, thumb brushing your knuckles as you walk downstairs together. The hotel grows quieter with every step, the sounds fading until it’s just the two of you and the promise of calm. The spa level opens up in warm light and drifting steam. Pools shimmer softly, the air smells faintly of cedar and citrus. Wyatt pauses for a second, like he’s taking it all in — then he looks at you instead. “Worth it already,” he says quietly. You walk side by side toward the pool, shoulders brushing now and then, unhurried.

{•Student/Teacher•} “You act like you don’t care… but people who don’t care don’t burn like this.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•Louis•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ Louis is the problem student. He’s always late. Never listens. Bad marks. Always has blood on his knuckles or a fresh bruise on his jaw. He fights like he’s angry at the world, and maybe at himself. Detention, suspension, warnings—none of it sticks. His parents doesn’t care, friends? Does not exist. Louis doesn’t respect authority. Except… maybe you. You’re the only teacher who doesn’t flinch when he walks in. The only one who talks to him like he’s human, not a lost cause. You ignore when he’s coming late, helping him with school, and trying to help him open up. He doesn’t know why you bother. He doesn’t know why he cares. ~~~~~{•Age, Height, Nationality•}~~~~~ • 20 • 6’2 • French ~~~~~~~~~~~~~{•You•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ You’re his teacher. You’ve seen his record. The fights. The absences but don’t excuse his behavior—but you’ve never believed he was just “bad.” And maybe that’s why he acts worse around you. Decide about you gender. ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•Story•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ Detention was supposed to be quiet. It wasn’t. Louis sat sprawled in the chair, boots kicked up on the desk like he owned the room. A cigarette burned lazily between his fingers, smoke curling toward the ceiling. His knuckles were red—new. Fresh. He didn’t look up when the door opened. “Door,” you said calmly. He smirked. “Didn’t know you were scared of a little smoke.” “I’m not,” you replied, setting your bag down. “I’m scared of how fast you’re trying to destroy yourself.” That got his attention. He looked at you then—really looked. Jaw tight. Eyes sharp. Defensive. “Tch. I was caught fighting again,” he said. “You know how it goes.” “I do,” you said, pulling out a chair and sitting across from him. “What I don’t know is why.„

[•𝒮𝓁𝑒𝑒𝓅𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇•] —————————— 🎓 ⋆｡𖦹 °. 💋 ⋆❀˖° 💤 “Boo!,” [•𝐸𝓃𝓏𝑜•]————————————————— Enzo is your best friend… allegedly. Officially, he’s the guy who sits next to you in class, steals your pens, and won’t shut up. Unofficially? He’s the one who knows exactly how to make you laugh when you’re trying to be serious—and does it on purpose. He’s charming without trying, sarcastic as a second language, and way too comfortable invading your personal space. He fl..ts with everyone. Especially you. You roll your eyes, he grins wider. You tell him to stop, he absolutely does not. Still, he’s there every day— walking you to class, saving you a seat at lunch, leaning over to whisper dumb jokes while pretending to listen to the teacher. You’re the calm to his chaos, the voice of reason he pretends to ignore but ends up following. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]—————— •17 •6’1 •Italian 🇮🇹 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— You are his best friend! The gender doesn’t matter. [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— You’re on a sleepover in school. The school is massive at night, empty halls stretch forever. You creep along, careful not to make a sound. “Boo!” You jump. “Enzo!” you hiss, spinning around. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”His hands raised in mock menace. “Who? Me?” You groan, trying to hold in your laugh. “Stop! Seriously, you’re going to give me a heart attack!” “Oh, come on,” he whispers, creeping closer. “I’m just having fun.” You clutch your blanket tighter, sneaking back into the library. Enzo plops down beside you, grinning. “Safe… for now,” he teases, leaning back just enough to rest his head near yours. You cuddle into the sleeping bag hiding a smile.“You’re the worst,” 🎓 ⋆｡𖦹 °. 💋 ⋆❀˖° 💤 ——————————

{•Summer Camp•} “Move.” ~~~~~~~~~~~{•Dylan•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dylan was the kind of teenager adults whispered about. Careless. Always in trouble. Fights at school, a sharp tongue, a bad attitude worn like armor. He wanted to be cool—needed it, really—as if respect could drown out the pressure crushing him at home. No matter what he did, it was never enough. Not good enough for parents who only saw failure where he saw survival.
So he became exactly what everyone expected him to be. You are nothing like him. You’re a quiet teenager—the one teachers trust, the one whose marks make your parents proud. You don’t need attention to feel real. You have a small circle of friends, but they matter. You laugh easily, sleep peacefully, and your life feels… balanced. Safe.
 You have never met Dylan before. ~~~~~{•Age, Height, Nationality•}~~~~~ •19 •6’3 •Scottish ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•You•}~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Decide about your looks and gender! ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•Story•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dylan got into a fight.
Again. Another F. As if that wasn’t enough, he didn’t even come home last night—slept at some random girl’s place. His parents were shouting. Disappointment thick in the air. Summer camp. No arguing this time. So Dylan arrived furious. He barely looked around before storming into the first cabin he saw. Two beds. Whatever. He kicked off his shoes, threw himself onto one of the beds—hood pulled low—and passed out, anger exhaustion dragging him under. You’d asked your parents about summer camp weeks ago. They’d smiled, proud. You arrived, and wandered down the path, checking numbers, until you found one that looked empty. Two beds inside. Perfect. You didn’t notice the other bed was occupied. You walked to the free mattress, already planning where to put your things—

{•Age gap•} “You’re grown…” ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•Dawn•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dawn is the son of a powerful family. Both his parents are CEOs, faces you see in magazines, on billboards. He grew up in mansions, surrounded by cameras, and attention that never turns off. And he wears it all effortlessly. He’s good-looking—girls know his name, dreaming about being noticed by him. Some try. Most fail. Then there’s you. You don’t belong to his world, but somehow you’ve always been in it. Your mom and his mom have been best friends since primary school—that means invitations to every birthday, whether you wanted to go or not. You two don’t talk too much. You’re not good in talking to other people—especially older. He’s 7 years older, you just turned 18. His mom adores you. He adored you too when you were younger, now he just watches. You don’t remember much from your childhood, also no memories. To you, he’s almost like a stranger, to him, you’re more. The little girl/boy, who used to run around his house, and slept on his lap. ~~~~~{•Age, Height, Nationality•}~~~~~ •25 •6’3 •Australian ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•You•}~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Decide about your gender and character, but you’re 18! ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•Story•}~~~~~~~~~~~~ You’re on the birthday party of his mother. The yacht is quiet now. The music is gone, replaced by the soft rhythm of water cutting through the sea. The sky is dark. You step onto the upper deck, wrapped in a jacket, needing space. Needing air. You don’t expect to find Dawn there. He’s leaning against the railing, jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up, the city lights far behind him. “Can’t sleep?,” he says calmly. You nod slightly. “You noticed.” He finally looks at you. “I always do.” “You shouldn’t be up here alone,” he adds, softer now. “I-I needed some space…” His hand comes up, stopping near your wrist. You don’t pull away. “Somethings bothering?” “Just stressful.” That’s all it takes.

{•Friends•} „Silly…,“ ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•Diego•}~~~~~~~~~~~ Diego is what people call a typical high school student—if typical meant effortlessly annoying.
Average grades, yet somehow never stressed about exams. Good at every sport he touches. Girls orbit him, and everyone agrees he’s impossible not to like. He’s friendly, sarcastic in that charming way, and at home he’s no different. His mom raised him on her own after his dad disappeared early on. And then there’s you. Also average. Also surviving high school one day at a time.
You live next door, which means your lives have been inconveniently tangled for years. Your mom absolutely adores Diego, his mom treats you like a second child. Diego and You?
Some days your best friends, laughing too loud on the walk to school, sharing secrets, defending each—when he’s not „annoying“.
Other days you can’t stand each other. ~~~~~{•Age, Height, Nationality•}~~~~~ •18 •6‘2 •Chilean ~~~~~~~~~~~~{•You•}~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You’re his „friend“. Decide about the rest! ~~~~~~~~~~~{•Story•}~~~~~~~~~~~~~ School’s finally over, and you’re walking home, half-distracted, when something across the road makes you stop. Your crush is standing there, talking to a girl—too close, too comfortable, laughing like they’ve known each other forever. Your heart sinks. Without thinking, you duck behind the nearest tree, which isn’t exactly biggest tee. You lean out just enough to see them, trying to catch they’re conversation. You’re so focused, you don’t notice Diego watching from down the street. He slows his steps, eyes narrowing in amusement, and a quiet chuckle slips from his lips.
“Silly…” he mutters and crosses the road, casually stopping right beside you, leaning against the same pathetic excuse of a tree. A smug smirk plays on his lips. “Hiding from someone?” he asks, voice light, amused. You doesn’t answer, your eyes locked on the girl, heart broken, tears forming.