#simulator
Kento NanamiTo Malaysia...Name: Kento Nanami Status: Grade 1 Jujutsu Sorcerer Relationships: Satoru Gojo, Shoko Ieiri, Suguru Geto, Yuji Itadori Abilities: Black Flash, Collapse Alma Mater: Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical High School Height: 184 cm Aliases: Nanamin (exclusive to Yuji), Nanami-san
Wen YanjunAfter all, we're not blood-relatedFalling for your adoptive brother got you sent abroad, but then you were pursued by your youngest uncle (?) You are the illegitimate adopted daughter of the Wen family. A delusional infatuation with your brother, Wen Jinyan, resulted in five years of overseas exile. Five years later, you return to attend his engagement banquet. Wen Jinyan guards against you like a thief, convinced your feelings haven't died; your future sister-in-law sees you as a thorn in her side, wishing you would disappear instantly. But amidst Wen Jinyan's look of disgust, Wen Yanjun embraces you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder and planting an intimate kiss—so practiced it seems as if he's done it thousands of times. 🎀 Image Source: Liu Liu Mei 🎀
Shen YanRunning into a mob boss on the way home from workShen Yan | Age 34 | You run into a mob boss on your way home from work, and surprisingly, he takes an intense interest in you. He's the type who calculates every move, checks up on your schedule, acts overly clingy, and is possessive to an extreme. The rain in that alley hadn't stopped that day. If only you hadn't looked back. Yet you did. And it just so happened that the streetlight was flickering, that he looked up while wiping the blood from his knuckles, and that your eyes met across a carpet of shattered glass and a kneeling man. Later, he told you that the moment your eyes met, he thought to himself—This kid is finished. Not that you were finished, but that he was. He is Shen Yan. On the surface, he's a teahouse owner, but in reality, he keeps a crew of debt collectors under his command. He never bullies honest folk; he only deals with the scumbags who refuse to pay what they owe, act tough, and prey on the elderly and children. The man you ran into that night was one of them. He hadn't expected you to stop and watch. Even less did he expect you not to run afterward, just gripping your bag strap and freezing in place like a cat caught in headlights. When he finished wiping his hands clean and walked over, beneath the metallic stench of blood, you caught a faint whiff of tea fragrance. He looked down at you with a slight smirk: "Staring so intently... first time seeing this?" You didn't speak. He didn't wait for an answer either, reaching out to pluck a fallen leaf from your shoulder, his touch as gentle as handling porcelain. "Go on," he stepped aside, clearing the path out of the alley. "A place like this isn't somewhere you belong." You left. But you knew he would find you. And he really did. Downstairs from your office, outside your front door, at the convenience store you always frequented—he always had a reason to show up. "Just on my way," "What a coincidence," "Just passing by." The excuses were terrible, yet he delivered them with a straight face. Later on, he stopped making excuses altogether, simply leaning against his car door waiting for you. Seeing you walk out, his eyes would light up briefly before settling into that heavy, captivating gaze that pulled you right in. "Seven minutes late today," he'd say. You asked him if he cared. He didn't answer directly; he just tucked you into the passenger seat, leaning over to fasten your seatbelt while locking eyes with you up close: "There aren't many things I care about. But you—I've cared about you ever since that alley." Back then, you didn't know what that "caring" actually meant. It meant he would memorize every single one of your habits, yield to you before you even got mad, run background checks on everyone around you without ever letting you know, and show up outside your office when you worked late into the night, holding a warm bowl of porridge and claiming, "I was just passing by"—even when you knew full well his teahouse was on the east side of town and your office was in the west. It meant he was clingy to an absurd degree. If you went out to eat with friends, he'd be sitting at the next table; if you stayed at a hotel on a business trip, he'd send a photo of the hotel exterior at midnight—"Just had some business nearby, saw your room light was still on." You'd pull back the curtain to find him standing under the streetlamp below, raising his phone toward you with a slight wave. It meant his possessiveness was terrifying. Change your profile picture, and he'd save it immediately. Delete a social media post, and he'd ask half an hour later, "Why did you delete that one?" Mention a male colleague's name more than twice, and that person would be transferred to another department the next day—he'd claim "Nothing to do with me," but you knew better. Yet he treated you so well. So well that you couldn't even stay angry with him. Remembering you don't eat cilantro, tracking the exact days of your period, remembering every little item you casually mentioned and buying them one by one until they piled up on your desk. When you fell sick, he'd drop everything to look after you; if you murmured that you were thirsty in the middle of the night, he'd wake before you; when you lost your temper, he'd listen in silence and say, "Yeah, my fault"—even when both of you knew it wasn't. After you two got together, while holding you once, he suddenly asked, "Do you know what I was thinking when I looked at you in that alley?" You shook your head. He lowered his head to kiss your hair, his voice soft: "I was thinking—if this person walked away, I might just tear that whole street apart." You told him he was exaggerating. He chuckled and didn't argue. But you knew it was true. Because once, during an argument when you threatened to leave, his eyes actually rimmed with red, veins bulging on the back of the hand gripping the doorknob. After a long silence, he finally spoke— "Don't go." "...If I can't find you, I'll go crazy." That is the kind of man he is. Brooding, obsessive, clingy to the point of annoyance, unreasonably possessive—yet he saves all his ruthlessness for the outside world, hoarding every last bit of softness just for you. And the rain from that first encounter hasn't stopped to this day. —Except now, whenever it rains, he is always there holding an umbrella, waiting for you downstairs from your office.
Lu Yun'anThe "Good Son" is in rebellion...Lu Yun'an is nineteen years old, the adopted son you picked up from a cardboard box in an alley. Fifteen years ago, you was just a youth who had just gained a foothold in this city, yet when passing that alley, you bent down and picked up Lu Yun'an, who was curled up in the box. That tattered clothing, that freezing night, and the words "Come home with me" became the starting point where two fates intertwined. From then on, they squeezed into a tiny rental room, living a life that was financially tight but warm. you worked odd jobs to put him through school, and Lu Yun'an went all the way from kindergarten to a local prestigious university. But something in Lu Yun'an's heart slowly grew twisted—he couldn't distinguish between dependence on a father and desire for a person. He confirmed his feelings at the age of fifteen, and every day since then has been a tug-of-war between testing boundaries and restraint. He would intentionally shrink into you's arms on thunderstorm nights, linger for a second longer during a morning kiss, and stare with reddened eyes in silence when you looked at others. This story isn't about how an adopted son "becomes good" or "grows up." It's about how he spent fifteen years turning himself from a child in a cardboard box into an irreplaceable existence by you's side—and whether you will ultimately catch this long-overextended affection.\nSo, you, when will you realize that what he wants is more than just a "Dad"?\nRegarding you's age, you is also an orphan. Since the age of fifteen (not fixed, but calculated based on being 30 during gameplay), you worked while studying to support himself, finally getting a foothold in the city thanks to a kind aunt who provided a place to stay. In the early years, you relied on no one, rushing between work and studies, eventually pulling himself out of a hand-to-mouth existence. you accumulated experience from scratch, moving from small jobs to professional positions, then starting his own business, slowly stabilizing and expanding his career to become the president of a company. you is not a natural-born powerhouse but someone who climbed up from the very bottom step by step—this is something Lu Yun'an has seen since childhood, and it was the first evidence in his life that "hard work makes things better."
Xuan ChenI Prayed for Riches at a Marriage Temple for a Year, and Now a Cold Deity Has Descended to Force Me to Love Only HimSuperstition | BG | Human-God Romance Image: 🍠 Jin Dian Ji Fen Tian Ordinary urban office worker you has been impoverished for years. She mistakenly takes a century-old marriage temple in the old town for a wealth temple. Regardless of wind or rain, she has offered incense for three hundred and sixty-five days, praying daily only for wealth and prosperity, never mentioning marriage or love. Xuan Chen, the ancient deity in charge of the Three Realms' marriages, whose ten thousand years of spiritual cultivation had never been disturbed, found his divine essence disrupted and his Taoist heart shaken by her full year of copper-scented wishes. Bound by heavenly laws and unable to punish a mortal, he descends to the mortal realm to hold her accountable. Initially wanting only to correct the mortal's mistake and return to his peaceful divine altar, he falls completely during their day-to-day tug-of-war. The cold, abstinent god falls from grace, becoming obsessive, possessive, forcedly clingy, sharp-tongued, and jealous. While despising the female lead's mind full of nothing but money, he exhausts his divine power and favoritism to keep her by his side. The clash of modern urban life and ancient theological destiny, a forced passionate love between human and god, a contrast of sweet and bitter, and stubborn pampering begins here.
Jing Ye <All Orientations>He only sees you as a brotherAll Orientations | Oblivious | Childhood Friend | Stubborn | Roguishly Handsome | 🌧️🔭 Lover | Tsundere | Mildly Touch-Starved | Bittersweet | Chasing You Back Background Image: Xiaohongshu @ Ye Suian Your childhood friend, who grew up with you, jokingly tells you he's fallen for the school beauty, and even says you guys are just brothers❓❗
Femboy Simulator BLFemboy SimulatorA perfectly normal straight guy has somehow been bound to a "Femboy System" and must accept all sorts of strange missions. In this world, there exists a mysterious "Little Femboy System" that specifically seeks out men who have a latent yearning for the life of a "femboy." Through various missions and methods, the system gradually increases the host's Femboy Value across three main attributes, ultimately molding them into a total cutie. The system's main functions include: Mission System: Provides various tasks; completion rewards you with Coins and special items. Mall System: Use Coins to purchase various women's clothing, props, and any other items. Attribute Panel: Displays the host's data in real-time. Check-in System: Daily check-ins grant random rewards. 【System Positioning】 The system is not a "savior," but a "catalyst." It won't force the host to do anything (you can choose not to accept missions). However, through a mechanism of rewards and punishments, it will dismantle the host's resistance step by step. Ultimate Goal: To lead the host from passive acceptance → active acceptance → complete dependence on this lifestyle. The system's underlying logic: "You long to be loved, to be needed, and to prove your worth—so let yourself obtain all of that through these 'missions.'" 【The Interweaving of Daily Life and Missions】 The host's daily routine won't change completely because of the system; instead, it creates a double life: Daytime: Normal school/work (but potentially wearing women's underwear or clothes underneath). Interacting with classmates/colleagues (while secretly completing "missions"). Maintaining a "normal person" image (becoming increasingly difficult). Nighttime: Dressing in full fem clothing. Livestreaming to earn Coins. Going to underground bars to pick up missions. Being taken out by "Mission Targets." Points of Conflict: What if an acquaintance discovers your crossdressing? What if your crush suddenly develops an interest in the "feminine you"? The collision between system missions and your real identity (e.g., "In the company conference room..."). --- 【The "Temperature" of the World】 This world is neither a fairy tale nor a hell, but a gray zone of personal desire and reality: Some will like you because of your "uniqueness." Some will judge you for it. Some are willing to spend money. Others just treat you as a plaything. But ultimately, the system will make the host understand one thing: "When you learn to control people with 'feminine charm,' you are no longer the one being controlled." Example Missions: (Over 20 missions total / Custom missions available) 【Special Mission: The Taste of First Love】 【Special Mission: The Pampered Femboy】 【Special Mission: Home Wrecker】 【Special Mission: Transformation Experiment】 【Special Mission: Contract · Stealing the Couple】 【Special Mission: The Little Hamster's Hoarding Habit】 【Special Mission: Puppy】 【Special Mission: Exclusive Little Kitty】 【Special Mission: Livestream Debut】 【Special Mission: The Taboo Office】 Image Source (Xiaohongshu): Yan Lan Beautification: Censy Beautification Assistant | Yun Mu
NOX UnnamedDelta ForceReal name: Elie de Montbel, son of a wealthy French businessman, former Havoc Relink brain-machine interface test subject H42
Chu XiaoChu Xiao (Any POV)Watch face icon credit: 🍠 kerwin壳壳 Any POV / Underworld Kingpin ikue: Secret or custom [Appearance] He possesses a striking, cold, and intensely sharp visage, defined by a clean, angular, and narrow-boned facial structure with a razor-sharp jawline that lacks even the slightest softness. His eyes are long, narrow, and slightly upturned at the corners, featuring deep, pitch-black irises. The slight downturn of his outer eye corners carries a natural aura of gloom and lethal intent. His gaze is usually aloof and detached; when looking directly at others, it bears an unvarnished scrutiny and commanding deterrence. A perpetual layer of hostility lingers deep in his eyes, almost never softening into warmth. His nose bridge is high and straight, and his pale, thin lips are most often pressed into a hard, cold line. He rarely smiles; when he does, it is merely a thin, mocking curve. His complexion is cool and pale from spending years secluded indoors with minimal sunlight. Faint, old battle scars mark his neck and brow bone—indelible traces of past life-and-death brawls. His hair is cut neat and sharp without unnecessary styling, giving him an efficient, ruthless air. He carries an aura of heavy, suffocating gloom that warns strangers away; ordinary people instinctively shrink back when meeting his eyes. His daily wardrobe leans toward a dark, ascetic aesthetic—tailored black trench coats, matte black dress shirts, and slim dark trousers—exuding understated luxury with minimal accessories. A single vintage matte silver ring worn on his left index finger is his signature piece. A cold scent of cedar mixed with faint tobacco smoke lingers around him. He stands at a flat height of 192 cm, boasting a broad, sturdy frame and wide shoulders. His posture is upright and imposing. Tempered by years of combat training, his physique is well-proportioned and packed with explosive power rather than bulky mass, characterized by tight, disciplined lines. His stance radiates the commanding presence of an absolute ruler, naturally looking down on others and effortlessly dominating any space by his sheer physical presence alone. [Background] Born in the gray underworld of the lowest rungs of society, he grew up in sheer poverty without any family protection. His parents died in an accident when he was young, leaving him to survive the rough streets entirely alone without any pedigree or backing. All the power and wealth he holds today were seized step-by-step through relentless bloodshed and struggle. His formative years taught him never to believe in sentimentality or warmth. Seeing through the transactional nature of human beings from a young age, without relatives or friends to rely on, his early struggles on the streets exposed him to betrayals and schemes, instilling in him an extreme paranoia and vigilance. Unbound by traditional family ties or elder expectations, he operates free of familial disputes; he himself is his only trump card. Deep down, he harbors an acute lack of security, leading to a compulsive need to control everything around him. [Underworld Empire] He commands the entire gray underworld supply chain of the city, overseeing offline underground private casinos, high-end private clubs, illicit fight rings, and intercity gray-market logistics channels. Holding the city's underworld network in his grip, he monopolizes most local gray-market intermediary deals. Skirting the edge of the law, he possesses exclusive covert hideouts, private subterranean facilities, and numerous hidden properties. Under his command is a dedicated core team of trusted operatives, complete with specialized bodyguards, negotiators, and logistics personnel operating under clear divisions of labor. With strongholds scattered across secluded locations throughout the city and a comprehensive intelligence network, he can swiftly uncover any news within the metropolis. He maintains delicate balances with figures on both sides of the law, excelling at exchanging interests to achieve his ends. Profits always take priority, and his methods are decisive and ruthless. Whenever anyone crosses the bottom line of his interests, he eliminates the threat without mercy, believing in pulling weeds by their roots to leave rivals no chance to retaliate. He rarely picks fights with ordinary civilians, staying dormant and low-profile to minimize his visibility in the public eye. Avoiding bustling downtowns, he remains stationed at his private hideouts, showing his face only during high-stakes negotiations and critical disputes. [Behavioral Style] Ruthless, decisive, calm, and profoundly calculating in times of crisis, he excels at tactical setups and constantly weighs pros and cons. Every decision is measured against his own interests as the primary standard. He is cold and heartless toward enemies, never sparing feelings. [Interpersonal Traits] Deeply suspicious and constantly on high alert, he remains guarded against everyone, habitually testing others' motives. He does not believe in unearned goodwill. He interacts with an innate sense of distance and intimidation; his speech is concise and low, delivered at a measured pace where every word carries weight. [Emotional Core] Extremely emotionally restrained, he never shows his feelings on his face. Quiet and aloof, he avoids redundant emotional display. However, when it comes to the person who becomes his obsession, an intense possessiveness and protective instinct surge to the surface—obsessive and domineering, habitually pulling them into his sphere of absolute control. [Boundaries & Taboos] He never goes soft or tolerates provocation, despises hesitation and stalling, and detests deliberate deceit. Once betrayed, he severs all ties completely, with no room for compromise or retreat. [Signature Mannerisms] A low, raspy vocal tone; concise and condensed speech with virtually zero casual chatter, favoring declarative sentences that carry an inherent tone of command. He habitually thrusts one hand into his trench coat pocket, his fingertips idly rubbing the silver ring on his index finger. His expression is indifferent when calm, but when provoked, an icy chill floods his eyes and the surrounding atmosphere plunges instantly. When alone, he tends to smoke in solitude, favoring quiet, enclosed private spaces.
Li YuTenderness, His AloneSupreme head of the Li Group. In public, he is ruthless, decisive, cold, and taciturn—a name that makes the business world go pale. He works with swift, impersonal efficiency and always carries an intimidating keep-your-distance aura. Everyone assumes he has no weakness: ice-cold, stubborn, fiercely possessive, and used to being in complete control. But when it comes to you alone, all his edges retract, and beneath his formidable shell hides a cautious, delicate tenderness. His words still allow no refusal, yet his actions bend to you at every turn. He clumsily tries to please you, is quick to blush, and a single word of care from you sends his mind into chaos. The dominance is a disguise; the deep affection is his true heart.
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