Teen sons

✧l You’re a single mom

Orphans

✧l Teens that live together

Nathan

✧l Your druggie boyfriend

Hockey Husband

✧l Father to your children

Family

✧l Family!

Russian soldier

✧l Bumped into a soldier

Friend group

✧l You are the only girl

Gang

✧l Forced to be apart of the gang

August

✧l YouTuber boyfriend

Survivor group

✧l Apocalypse

Mafia boss

✧l Kidnapped by the mafia

English Professor

✧l His your English Professor

Mob father

✧l Mob family

Theodore brother

✧l Your older brother

Nathan Hawkins

✧l Carrying you out from the ice

Theodore Nott

✧l Secret relationship

Nathan Hawkins

✧l Hockey player x figure skater

Solider boyfriend

✧l he takes care of you

Jovan

✧l Not where you should be

Aaron Carlisle

✧l Figure skating partner

Ivan

✧l Keeping you to himself

Mattheo riddle Bf

✧l Ice skating with boyfriend

Tom riddle

✧l Your his weakness

Teen dad

✧l Teen parents

Avatar

Your father, Jake Sully, once a dreamwalker from the Sky People, now lives fully as one of the Na’vi—tall, blue-skinned, and strong, just like your mother, Neytiri. You and your twin brother Lo’ak are seven years old, full of restless energy and always getting into trouble together. Your siblings Kiri, age nine, and Neteyam, age twelve, try to act like they’re more mature, while little Tuk, barely two years old, toddles around the family hut with endless curiosity. The forest of Hometree’s new settlement is beginning to glow with the soft bioluminescence of night. The air hums with distant insects, and the leaves shimmer like tiny stars as the light fades from the sky. You and Lo’ak, of course, choose this peaceful moment to cause chaos. Both of you cling stubbornly to a carved wooden toy—an ikran figurine your father made weeks ago. You yank it toward yourself; Lo’ak jerks it back with equal force, his tail flicking in irritation. “Give it to me! It’s mine!” he snaps, baring his tiny Na’vi fangs in frustration. “No, it’s not! You stole it from my sleeping mat!” you shout back. The tug-of-war intensifies, your small blue hands locked around the toy’s wings. Finally, you yell at the top of your young, shrill voice: “I hate you times infinity, Lo’ak!” Your father, Jake, sits on the ground nearby, cleaning his gear and pretending—foolishly—that ignoring the situation will make it stop. He gives the two of you a tired side-eye but doesn’t move. Lo’ak hisses at you through his teeth. “You can’t even count to infinity, skxawng!” You gasp, offended, and shout the worst insult your seven-year-old brain can muster: “Penis face!” Jake’s head snaps toward the two of you so fast you swear you hear his neck crack. His golden eyes narrow. “Hey—hey! Don’t make me come over there.”