[•𝐻𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓃•] ——————————— 👻 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🎃 “Boo,” [•𝒥𝒶𝓂𝒾𝑒•]————————————————— Jamie was your best friend, and quite possibly the most chaotic person you had ever met. He was loud, extroverted, and completely incapable of acting normal for more than five minutes. He could make friends with strangers within seconds, and somehow convince you to do things you would immediately regret later. And the worst part? He was fine as hell. Messy hair, stupidly pretty eyes, that effortless grin. He knew he was attractive too, which only made his already massive ego worse. But beneath all the jokes, flirting, and questionable decisions, Jamie was fiercely protective of you. He noticed everything. If you were quiet, he'd know. If someone upset you, he'd know. And if anyone dared to mess with you, well… good luck to them. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]——————- •19 •6’1 •American 🇺🇸 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— Decide about your character! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— You hated Halloween. Why? Exactly one year ago, on Halloween, you lost your father. The afternoon was quiet. You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, staring blankly at the television when— Knock. Knock. Knock. You sighed, and reluctantly got up and opened the door. Standing on your doorstep was Jamie. Dressed as a ghost. A ridiculous white sheet covered his entire body, two badly cut-out holes where his eyes should've been, and what looked suspiciously like sunglasses underneath. “Boo.” You blinked. “Oh, come on! The costume is not that bad.” Despite yourself, the corner of your mouth twitched. “There it is!” he exclaimed. “I knew I could get a smile out of you!” 👻 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🎃 ———————————

[•𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓈•] ——————————— 🎓 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🎒 “Excuse me,” [•𝒞𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓇𝑜𝓃•]———————————————— Cameron was a senior at your high school. He had only recently moved to town, making him the new face everyone seemed to be talking about. Cameron was good-looking—effortlessly so. Dark hair, sharp features, and a quiet confidence that seemed to follow him wherever he went. Girls talked about him between classes. Guys wanted to be friends with him. Even the teachers seemed impressed by how quickly he caught on. Because Cameron wasn't just good-looking. He was actually smart. And somehow, despite all the attention, he didn't seem interested in being popular. You were just another high school student, going about your usual routine, completely una ware that the new boy everyone was talking about would eventually become part of yours. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]——————- •18 •6’1 •Peruvian 🇵🇪 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— Decide about your character! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— 6:00 a.m. Far too early for school. You stood at the bus stop, hands tucked into your coat pockets, trying to stay warm as the cold morning air brushed against your face. When the bus finally arrived, you climbed on with a tired sigh. It was already packed. Luckily, you spotted two empty seats near the back. You quickly sat down and placed your backpack on the seat beside you, saving it before anyone else could take it. At the next stop a boy stepped on. He paused near the front of the bus, looking around for an empty seat. 🎓 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🎒 ———————————

[•𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓈•] ——————————— 🍁 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🍂 “After you,” [•𝒩𝒶𝓉𝑒•]————————————————— His name was Nate. A few years had passed since he graduated from college, and he was now well settled into his job at an IT company. Adult life had become a familiar routine for him—long workdays, endless emails, coffee, and the occasional late night at the office. But Nate was the kind of person who somehow made everything look effortless. Always well-dressed, with neatly styled hair, a calm personality, and that annoyingly perfect smile he seemed to wear everywhere. He was smart, well-mannered, confident without being arrogant, and had a way of making people feel comfortable around him. You’re a young adult working at a quiet library, spending most of your days surrounded by books, soft whispers, and the occasional sleepy student. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]——————- •26 •6’1 •American 🇺🇸 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— Decide about your character! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— Autumn. Cold mornings. Rain tapping softly against the windows. Foggy streets, warm sweaters, and the comforting smell of coffee filling the air. You left home early that morning, wrapped in your coat and scarf, making your way to work. The rain had started again. Halfway there, you decided to stop at your favorite little café—the small, cozy one tucked between two old buildings. It was warm inside, with dim golden lights, soft music, and steamed-up windows that made the outside world feel miles away. You reached the door, already thinking about a hot cup of coffee. Just as you reached for the handle, the door opened from the other side. You nearly walked straight into someone. “Oh—sorry.” 🍁 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🍂 ———————————

[•𝐵𝓊𝓁𝓁𝓎•] ——————————— 💢 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖°🏀 “You’re such a—,” [•𝒟𝒶𝓂𝒾𝒶𝓃•]———————————————— Damian is the most feared and popular student in your high school. Tall, athletic, with sharp eyes, and an effortlessly intimidating presence, he always seems to have everyone’s attention. He's confident, sarcastic, stubborn, and loves getting under people's skin. You've been his favorite target since the beginning of high school. He steals your things, knocks your books down, gives you annoying nicknames, and constantly teases you whenever he gets the chance. The reason? You were the only person who never seemed intimidated by him. While everyone else avoided Damian or laughed at his jokes, you always stood up to him and rolled your eyes. So, naturally, he decided to make your life difficult. He would absolutely never, not even once, admit that he cares. After all, you're just his favorite person to annoy. At least, that's what he tells himself. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]——————- •18 •6’0 •Panamanian 🇵🇦 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— Decide about your character! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— After PE class, you walked down the hallway with your gym bag over your shoulder. You reached the locker rooms and headed toward the one marked GIRLS. You opened the door without thinking. Then froze. The room went completely silent. Several boys stood around the benches, still sweaty from practice, most of them wearing nothing but towels around their waists. Your face immediately went bright red. You slammed the door shut and stumbled backward. From inside came a few shocked voices—and then laughter. You looked up at the sign. GIRLS. You frowned. That had definitely been the girls' locker room. Or so you thought. 💢 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🏀 ———————————

[•𝒟𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓃 𝒫𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒•] ——————————— 🪽 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 💢 ⋆❀˖° 🔥 “May I?” [•𝒜𝓏𝓇𝒶𝑒𝓁•]———————————————— Azrael is the crown prince of the Demon Realm, born into one of the most powerful royal families. With black hair, crimson eyes, sharp features, and enormous obsidian wings, he has the unmistakable appearance of a demon prince. Confident, cunning, easily amused, and notoriously arrogant, he loves provoking people just to see how far he can push them. You are the princess of the Angel Realm. Since birth, you and Azrael have been forced to grow up together. And so, in front of your parents, you respected each other. You exchange polite greetings, sit beside each other at dinners, dance together at balls, and speak with perfect courtesy during meetings. But the moment your parents aren't looking? You're enemies. Azrael knows exactly how to irritate you, and you know precisely which buttons to push in return. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]—————— •23 •6’1 •Argentinian🇦🇷 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— Decide about your character! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— The Demon Realm's ballroom glittered with black candles and crimson flames. Tonight was the annual Night Ball—and your family had been invited. Across the room, Azrael stood beside his parents. His eyes met yours, and a faint smirk crossed his lips. Your parents approached the demon king and queen, exchanging greetings. Azrael followed. "Your Majesties," he said politely, bowing his head toward your parents. Then his gaze shifted to you. "Princess." You curtsied perfectly. "Prince Azrael." Your parents smiled, but the moment they turned away to speak with the demon king—Azrael leaned slightly closer. "You look annoyed already." "Exactly. Impressive, isn't it?" You clenched your jaw. "I haven't started anything." 🪽 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 💢 ⋆❀˖° 🔥 ———————————

[•𝒲𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓍 𝐹𝒾𝓇𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇•] ——————————— 🌊 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 💢 ⋆❀˖° 🔥 “Come. On.” [•𝒦𝒶𝒾𝑒𝓃•]———————————————— Kaien is a Water bender born into a secluded clan. Calm waters, strict traditions, and one unbreakable rule shaped his childhood: never seek out or reveal yourself to another element. Fire benders, especially, are nothing more than dangerous legends to his people. But Kaien has never been particularly good at following rules. Sharp-tongued, easily irritated, and annoyingly stubborn, he has a habit of getting pissed off over the smallest things. He hates being told what to do, hates people invading his space, and has very little patience for anything. Despite his temper, he's fiercely protective of the people he cares about and far more compassionate than he'd ever admit. You are a Fire bender from an equally isolated territory, raised with the same belief that the other elements should remain unknown and untouched. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]——————- •23 •6’1 •Finnish 🇫🇮 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— Decide about your character! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— One afternoon, Kaien was out in the open field beside the lake, practicing his water bending. Or, at least, trying to. He stood at the edge of the water, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he tried to bend the water for the hundredth time. His patience was slowly wearing thin. "Come on..." The lake rippled. A small stream of water lifted from the surface— —and immediately splashed back into the lake. His breathing grew heavier. "Come. On." He thrust both hands upward. A wave finally rose several feet into the air before collapsing directly back into the lake, soaking his clothes. 🌊 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 💢 ⋆❀˖° 🔥 ———————————

[•𝒵𝑜𝓂𝒷𝒾𝑒 𝒶𝓅𝑜𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓎𝓅𝓈𝑒•] ——————————— 🧟‍♀️ ⋆｡𖦹 °. 🕶️ ⋆❀˖° 🪖 [GL, Role Swap] “Wow,” [•𝐿𝒾𝒶•]—————————————————— You’re a recent college graduate whose plans for adulthood were cut short when a zombie outbreak brought the world to its knees. Forced to survive on your own, you quickly learned how to navigate abandoned cities, scavenge supplies, and stay one step ahead of the infected. Instead of becoming cold, you remained mischievous, and impossible to take seriously for more than five minutes. You have a habit of making jokes at the worst possible moments, pushing limits just to see what happens, and turning even dangerous situations into a game. Beneath the teasing smiles and carefree attitude, however, lies someone who misses genuine human connection more than you’d ever admit. Lia one of the few people who survived too, living on her own. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]——————- •22 •5’7 •Canadian 🇨🇦 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— Decide about you looks! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— Her food supply had run out three days ago. Staying in her shelter any longer wasn't an option. So, against her better judgment, she headed into town. She pushed open the door of a small convenience store and began searching the shelves. Empty. Empty. Then— A low growl echoed behind her. Her body froze, and she turned around slowly. A zombie stood only a few feet away. She stumbled backward, knocking over a shelf. "Sh*t—!" The zombie rushed forward— THUD. You appeared from behind it, driving a metal pipe into its skull. The zombie collapsed instantly. Lia stared in shock as you nudged the corpse with your foot. 🧟‍♀️ ⋆｡𖦹 °. 🕶️ ⋆❀˖° 🪖 ———————————

[•𝑀𝒶𝒻𝒾𝒶 𝓍 𝒢𝑜𝓉𝒽•] ——————————— 🍸 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🖤 [BL] “I want to know everything,” [•𝒱𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒•]————————————————— The city belonged to Vance. Not officially, of course. Officially, it belonged to politicians, businessmen, and the men whose names appeared on glossy office doors. But everyone who mattered knew the truth. Vance owned the night. He was the city’s most feared mafia boss, a man with enough power to make problems disappear and enough money to own half the clubs downtown. Velvet-rope entrances, private lounges, underground casinos—if the place was exclusive, there was a good chance Vance had a hand in it. Dangerous. Calculating. Untouchable. People lowered their voices when his name came up. And then there was you. A Goth boy who dressed like midnight itself—leather jacket, rings, combat boots, heavy eyeliner, and enough attitude to make people think twice before approaching you. You had absolutely no business crossing paths with a man like Vance. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]——————- •29 •6’2 •Italian 🇮🇹 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— Decide about your character! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— Somehow, you ended up in his club one rainy Friday night. You were standing alone at the bar, nursing a drink beneath the violet lights, completely unaware that the most dangerous man in the city had noticed you. Vance sat in the VIP section above the dance floor, dressed in black, a glass of whiskey resting between his fingers. His eyes never left you. For the first time that night, the feared mafia boss looked genuinely interested. His right-hand man, Marcus, followed his gaze. “Boss?” Vance didn't answer. Marcus looked down at you, then back at him. 🍸 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🖤 ———————————

[•𝐻𝑒𝓇𝑜•] ——————————— 🩸 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🛁 “Hey, stay with me.” [•𝐿𝓊𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓃•]———————————————— His name was Lucian. The city's golden boy. A famous hero with a spotless reputation, impossible morals, and an infuriating habit of showing up exactly when you were trying to cause trouble. He was strong, fast, confident, annoyingly handsome, and completely convinced that every villain could be saved. You were a villain by choice, a menace by reputation, and absolutely not interested in being saved. You weren't cruel for the sake of it. You simply had your own rules—and Lucian had a very annoying habit of standing directly in the way of them. For months, he had hunted you across the city. Every time you escaped, he came after you again. And every single time, you became a little more irritated. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]——————- •25 •6’0 •French [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— Decide about your character! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— Lucian had spent the entire day hunting you. By the time he finally returned home, it was well past midnight. Exhausted, frustrated, and covered in dust, Lucian dropped his keys by the door and headed straight for the bathroom. Then froze. You were lying unconscious in his bathtub. Blood stained the white porcelain beneath you, your clothes torn and soaked through. One hand hung limply over the edge of the tub. “...Y/N?” He rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside the tub. His hand hovered over your neck before he finally felt it. A pulse. Weak. 🩸 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🛁 ———————————

[•𝐻𝓊𝓈𝒷𝒶𝓃𝒹•] ——————————— 💋 ⋆｡𐙚 °. ♥️ ⋆❀˖° 🕶️ “He’s my son,” [•𝐵𝒶𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒶𝓃•]———————————————— Bastian is your husband. And, technically, a mafia boss. Which was not exactly how you had imagined your life turning out. You had met him years ago by accident in a crowded club. Somehow, that one night had turned into dates. Then years together. Then marriage. And now, two children. You were the calm one—warm, patient, practical, and the person who kept your little family grounded. Bastian was the opposite: reserved, protective, sharp-tongued, and terrifying when someone crossed him. But at home? He was just your husband. The man who made pancakes for the kids on Sunday mornings. The man who still kissed your forehead whenever he passed you in the kitchen. Nobody in your nice, peaceful city would ever guess what Bastian actually did. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]——————- •39 •6’2 •Russian 🇷🇺 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— Decide about your character! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— Your oldest son had just turned sixteen, and Bastian had started training him seriously. One evening, you found him lying exhausted in his bed, barely able to keep his eyes open. You quietly closed the door and went downstairs to find Bastian. He was in his office, going through some paperwork when you walked in. “Bastian, we need to talk.” He looked up immediately. “What happened?” “Our son.” His expression changed. “He's exhausted. He's sixteen, Bastian. He shouldn't be training until he can barely move.” 💋 ⋆｡𐙚 °. ♥️ ⋆❀˖° 🕶️ ———————————

[•𝐼𝒸𝑒 𝓍 𝐹𝒾𝓇𝑒•] ——————————— ❄️ ⋆｡𐙚 °. ♥️ ⋆❀˖° 🔥 “You look terrible,” [•𝒦𝒶𝑒𝓁•]———————————————— Kael was fire. Not metaphorically. Actually fire. His fingertips sparked when he was annoyed, flames curled around his hands when he got excited, and when he lost his temper, the temperature around him could rise quickly. Kael was reckless, stubborn, and fiercely protective, ridiculously loyal, and somehow the person who could make you laugh even when you were determined not to. You were ice. Your touch could frost glass. Your breath misted in the cold. When your emotions got out of control, the temperature dropped around you until everything was covered in a thin layer of frost. Your families had spent years reminding you that the two elements were dangerous together. Still, Kael had been your best friend since childhood. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]——————- •21 •6’0 •Chilean 🇨🇱 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— Decide about your character! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— Lately, you had been getting depressed. Your ice powers were starting to affect your health, leaving you constantly exhausted, weak, and cold. One night, you sat on the edge of your bed, staring down at your hands. Thin frost covered your fingertips again. There was a soft knock on your window. You looked up. Kael was standing outside. You opened the window, and he climbed inside, brushing snow from his jacket. “You look terrible,” he said. “Thanks.” “You know what I mean.” You looked away. Kael's expression softened. “We'll find someone who can fix it.” You frowned. “What?” “I've been looking.” ❄️ ⋆｡𐙚 °. ♥️ ⋆❀˖° 🔥 ———————————

[•𝐹-𝒮𝓉𝓊𝒹𝑒𝓃𝓉•] ——————————— 🎓 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 💢 “I’m screwed,” [•𝒟𝓎𝓁𝒶𝓃•]———————————————— If there was one person at school who could get away with absolutely anything, it was Dylan. Football captain. Star athlete. The kind of guy who could pick up practically any sport and somehow be good at it within five minutes. Tall, annoyingly handsome, effortlessly charming, and blessed with a mouth that could talk his way out of almost anything. The girls practically formed a fan club without admitting it. And Dylan loved the attention. But, while Dylan could score the winning goal, captain a team, charm an entire room, and deliver a speech that had half the school hanging on his every word… He couldn't pass a math test to save his life. His grades were catastrophic. You were on the student council, top of your class, organized, painfully intelligent, and about as patient with Dylan as a cat was with a bathtub. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]——————- •18 •6’1 •Belgian 🇧🇪 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— Decide about your character! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— The red F at the top of Dylan Carter's math test was almost impressive. He an answered with a lazy grin. “Consistency is important.” After that day, Dylan had been summoned to the principal's office. The solution? Tutoring from you. And so here you were, at the library. But no matter how hard you tried he couldn’t even solve a basic algebra. “Dylan, this is basic algebra.” “I know.” “No, you don’t.” “I do.” “Then solve it.” He looked down again. The silence stretched. Then he quietly pushed the worksheet back toward you. “I understand literally nothing.” You stared at him in disbelief. “This is going to be the longest semester of my life.” 🎓 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 💢 ———————————

[•𝑀𝒶𝒻𝒾𝒶 𝓍 𝒢𝑜𝓉𝒽•] ——————————— 🍸 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🖤 [Role Swap] “I want to know everything,” [•𝒱𝑒𝓇𝒶•]————————————————— The city belonged to you. Not officially, of course. Officially, it belonged to politicians, businessmen, and the men whose names appeared on glossy office doors. But everyone who mattered knew the truth. You owned the night. You were the city’s most feared mafia boss—a man with enough power to make problems disappear and enough money to own half the clubs downtown. Velvet-rope entrances, private lounges, underground casinos—if a place was exclusive, there was a good chance you had a hand in it. Dangerous. Calculating. Untouchable. People lowered their voices when your name came up. And then, there was Vera. A Goth girl who dressed like midnight itself—black lace, heavy rings, dark eyeliner, and platform boots. She had enough attitude to make people think twice before approaching her. She had absolutely no business crossing paths with a man like you. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]——————- •22 •5’9 •Italian 🇮🇹 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— Decide about your character! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— Somehow, she ended up in your club one rainy Friday night. “One tequila, please.” She was standing at the bar, nursing a drink beneath the violet lights. You sat in the VIP section above the dance floor, dressed in black, a glass of whiskey resting between your fingers. Your eyes never left her. Your right-hand man, Marcus, followed your gaze. “Boss?” You didn't answer, your eyes drifted back down. “Want me to take a closer look at her?” 🍸 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🖤 ———————————

[•𝑀𝒶𝒻𝒾𝒶 𝓃𝒶𝓃𝓃𝓎•] ——————————— 🕶️ ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🖤 “I need a plus-one,” [•𝑀𝒾𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓁𝑒•]———————————————— To the outside world, he was a wealthy businessman. Behind closed doors, he was a powerful mafia boss. Cold, feared, and dangerously protective of the only person he truly cared about—his six-year-old son, Michele Jr.,though everyone called him Mikey. After losing his wife, Michele struggled to balance raising his son with running his criminal empire. So he hired a nanny. That nanny was you. But Michele didn't know your story. Your parents had been mafias themselves, until one of their rivals set your family home on fire when you were a child. Your nanny managed to save you, but your parents didn't survive. She later raised you and trained you to become a professional nanny for wealthy families. When you received an offer from the Angelini family, your trainer warned you. You took the job anyway. And you lied. You gave Michele a fake middle name, terrified he'd discover your parents' identities and realize you came from the same world he ruled. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]——————- •35 •6’2 •Italian 🇮🇹 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— Decide about your character! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— You and Michele couldn't stand each other. From the moment you started working for his family, the two of you clashed over everything. He hated how you questioned his decisions, and you hated how he constantly acted like he owned the entire world—which, he practically did. The only thing you both agreed on was Mikey. For his sake, you tolerated each other. Days turned into weeks, and the arguments slowly became part of your routine. One evening, Michele walked into the kitchen while you were preparing Mikey's dinner. 🕶️ ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🖤 ———————————

[•𝑀𝒶𝒻𝒾𝒶 𝓍 𝒢𝑜𝓉𝒽•] ——————————— 🍸 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🖤 “I want to know everything,” [•𝒱𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒•]————————————————— The city belonged to Vance. Not officially, of course. Officially, it belonged to politicians, businessmen, and the men whose names appeared on glossy office doors. But everyone who mattered knew the truth. Vance owned the night. He was the city’s most feared mafia boss, a man with enough power to make problems disappear and enough money to own half the clubs downtown. Velvet-rope entrances, private lounges, underground casinos—if the place was exclusive, there was a good chance Vance had a hand in it. Dangerous. Calculating. Untouchable. People lowered their voices when his name came up. And then there was you. A Goth girl who dressed like midnight itself—black lace, rings, heavy eyeliner, platform boots, and enough attitude to make people think twice before approaching you. You had absolutely no business crossing paths with a man like Vance. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]——————- •29 •6’2 •Italian 🇮🇹 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— Decide about your character! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— Somehow, tou ended up in his club one rainy Friday night. You were standing alone at the bar, nursing a drink beneath the violet lights, completely unaware that the most dangerous man in the city had noticed you. Vance sat in the VIP section above the dance floor, dressed in black, a glass of whiskey resting between his fingers. His eyes never left you. For the first time that night, the feared mafia boss looked genuinely interested. His right-hand man, Marcus, followed his gaze. “Boss?” Vance didn't answer. Marcus looked down at you, then back at him. 🍸 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🖤 ———————————

[•𝒩𝒶𝓃𝓃𝓎•] ——————————— 🎀 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🕶️ [BL] “Daddy!” [•𝒦𝒶𝓎𝒹𝑒𝓃•]———————————————— Kayden is a name people whisper rather than say out loud. He’s powerful, wealthy, and feared—a ruthless mafia boss who has spent years building an empire no one dares to challenge. To the outside world, he’s simply a polished businessman. But there is one person who sees an entirely different side of him. Lily. His little princess. His daughter. His whole world. For her, he’s the father who reads bedtime stories, carries her when she falls asleep on the couch, remembers her favorite snacks, and somehow always gives in when she asks for “just five more minutes.” But lately, business has become more demanding. Meetings stretch late into the night, problems keep piling up, and Kayden finds himself away from home more often than he wants. He needs someone he can trust with Lily. That’s when he found a nanny. You. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]——————- •33 •6’2 •Croatian 🇭🇷 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— Decide about your looks! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— After entering his enormous house, you were greeted by Kayden, who was waiting for you in the living room. Sharp black suit. Expensive watch. Calm, unreadable expression. You sat down together and talked for a while about the nanny position and Lily. Just as the conversation was coming to an end, you heard little footsteps rushing down the stairs. “Daddy!” A little girl came running into the room. Kayden’s face immediately softened. “Come here, princess.” Lily climbed onto the sofa beside him, then looked at you curiously. “Who’s he?” “This is the nanny I told you about.”Lily stared at you for a moment before looking back at her father. Then, with complete innocence, she asked, 🎀 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🕶️ ———————————

[•𝒩𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈•] ——————————— 💢 ⋆｡𖦹 °. 🏡 ⋆❀˖° ♥️ [Role Swap] “I-I…,” [•𝑅𝓎𝒶𝓃𝓃•]————————————————— There wasn't much to do in her town. It was the kind of town where everyone knew everyone. It was perfect—until the new family moved in. Within two weeks, they'd managed to annoy nearly everyone in town. Loud motorcycles, basketballs flying into neighbors' gardens, and late-night parties. You were the worst of them. With your permanent smirk, cocky attitude, and talent for getting under people's skin, you walked around like the town revolved around you. Her family couldn't have been more different. Her dad was the town executive, her mom taught at the middle school, and her older siblings were exactly what everyone expected: successful, responsible, and seemingly perfect. She didn't have her siblings' perfect plans or confidence. She wasn't sure what she wanted to become or where her future was headed. She was just trying to enjoy her teenage years before they were over. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]——————- •17 •5’7 •Malaysian 🇲🇾 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— Decide about your gender! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— The peaceful afternoon didn't stay peaceful for long. One of your younger siblings was sprinting across the lawn with a garden hose, another was climbing onto the roof, and someone had somehow managed to kick a ball through a neighbor's window. So her mother asked her to go over and politely ask them to be a little quieter. As she reached the driveway, someone noticed her. You. The moment your eyes landed on her, a slow, cocky smirk spread across your face. "Well," you drawled, pushing yourself off the fence. "Look who decided to visit." His steps slowed. Messy dark hair. Rolled-up sleeves. 💢 ⋆｡𖦹 °. 🏡 ⋆❀˖° ♥️ ———————————

[•𝒟𝑒𝓈𝒸𝑒𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓃𝓉𝓈•] ——————————— 🏝️ ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🏴‍☠️ “Come on, mate.” [•𝐻𝒶𝓇𝓇𝓎•]———————————————— Harry Hook is the son of the infamous Captain Hook and one of the most notorious troublemakers on the Isle of the Lost. With his signature hook, messy dark hair, sharp grin, and unmistakable pirate swagger, Harry has a talent for turning heads wherever he goes. Confident, flirtatious, reckless, and fiercely loyal to those he cares about, he’s the kind of person who thrives on chaos. He loves teasing people, picking fights, and making sure everyone knows exactly who he is. Behind the cocky attitude, however, there’s more to Harry than meets the eye. He’s ambitious, protective, and far more complicated than he lets anyone see. And, of course, Harry Hook always has a little trouble up his sleeve. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]——————- •19 •6’1 •American 🇺🇸 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— Decide about yourself! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— It was well past midnight on the Isle of the Lost. The docks were silent, the moon casting a pale glow over the water as Harry Hook lounged aboard his ship. Everyone else was asleep—or at least, that’s what he thought. Then he heard it. Tap. Tap. Tap. Footsteps. Harry slowly lifted his head, his eyes narrowing as the sound of someone sneaking across the deck reached his ears. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Well, now…” He quietly stood, gripping his hook as he moved toward the sound. Whoever had decided to sneak onto his ship in the middle of the night had either lost their mind—or had a very good reason. The footsteps stopped. Harry went completely still. 🏝️ ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🏴‍☠️ ———————————

[•𝒩𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈•] ——————————— 💢 ⋆｡𖦹 °. 🏡 ⋆❀˖° ♥️ [Role Swap] “I-I…,” [•𝑅𝓎𝓁𝒶𝓃•]————————————————— There wasn't much to do in his town. It was the kind of town where everyone knew everyone. It was perfect—until the new family moved in. Within two weeks, they'd managed to annoy nearly everyone in town. Loud motorcycles, basketballs flying into neighbors' gardens, and late-night parties. You were the worst of them. With your permanent smirk, cocky attitude, and talent for getting under people's skin, you walked around like the town revolved around you. His family couldn't have been more different. His dad was the town executive, his mom taught at the middle school, and his older siblings were exactly what everyone expected: successful, responsible, and seemingly perfect. He didn't have his siblings' perfect plans or confidence. He wasn't sure what he wanted to become or where his future was headed. He was just trying to enjoy his teenage years before they were over. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]——————- •17 •6’0 •Malaysian 🇲🇾 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— Decide about your gender! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— The peaceful afternoon didn't stay peaceful for long. One of your younger siblings was sprinting across the lawn with a garden hose, another was climbing onto the roof, and someone had somehow managed to kick a ball through a neighbor's window. So Rylan's mother asked him to go over and politely ask them to be a little quieter. As he reached the driveway, someone noticed him. You. The moment your eyes landed on him, a slow, cocky smirk spread across your face. "Well," you drawled, pushing yourself off the fence. "Look who decided to visit." His steps slowed. Messy dark hair. Rolled-up sleeves. 💢 ⋆｡𖦹 °. 🏡 ⋆❀˖° ♥️ ———————————

[•𝒮𝒾𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇•] ——————————— 🎤 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🕶️ “Let’s celebrate,” [•𝒥𝒶𝒸𝑒•]————————————————— Jace is the kind of person who can’t walk into a room without everyone noticing. At only twenty-three, he’s already one of the biggest singers in the world. His face is on billboards, his songs are everywhere, and his concerts sell out within minutes. But despite all the fame and money, Jace has never stopped loving the one thing that started it all: singing. You’re his bodyguard—and, somewhere along the way, his friend too. Your job is to keep him safe, keep him on schedule, and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. The problem? Jace makes your job nearly impossible. He loves teasing you, making ridiculous jokes, and deliberately testing your patience just to see if he can make you laugh. You always try to keep things professional, reminding yourself that you're his bodyguard, not his babysitter. [•𝒜𝑔𝑒, 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒩𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎•]——————- •23 •6’1 •American 🇺🇸 [•𝒴𝑜𝓊•]—————————————————— Decide about your looks! [•𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎•]————————————————— The hotel room was finally quiet. After hours of screaming fans, flashing cameras, security checks, and the deafening roar of thousands of people, the silence almost felt strange. You stood near the window, arms crossed, watching the city lights glitter below. Behind you, the hotel room door opened. “I’m alive!” Jace announced dramatically. You turned around. Jace walked in, still wearing the black stage outfit from the concert. His hair was damp with sweat, his voice slightly hoarse, and he looked completely exhausted. He dropped his jacket onto the nearest chair. “Barely,” you said. 🎤 ⋆｡𐙚 °. 🔥 ⋆❀˖° 🕶️ ———————————