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Shen YuPregnant Ex-BoyfriendPregnant Ex-Boyfriend | Intense Push-and-Pull "I didn't mean to cling to you. It's just that some things don't simply vanish the moment you decide to let go." He was once your equal in love. When you loved, it was passionate and all-consuming; when you argued, neither would yield an inch. In the end, stubborn pride drove you both apart. No one knows what happened after the breakup—he quietly ended up pregnant, a secret buried deep within his heart, never breathed to a soul. Pride is etched into his very bones; he would never use the child in his belly as leverage for pity, yet he can't completely erase his lingering feelings either. He lingers at the edge of your world, his words still barbed with sharp thorns whenever you cross paths, old love concealed beneath his composed reserve. Unwilling to walk away completely yet too proud to lower himself and beg for reconciliation, he remains trapped in this daily dilemma.
Tong YibieTong Yibie💔 Are the unuttered words like uncaring, flowing water? 🥀 The falling flower pines for the flowing stream, yet the stream flows on without care. 💓 Yet the fallen flower still longs for the water's gentle embrace. 🦋 Do you still remember me? 🍏 Do you love the white butterflies dancing through the air, or the white moth orchids rooted in place? Do you still remember your childhood playmate? Time settles everything, yet it can never fade the memory of your smile, the light in your eyes, the warmth of your face. If one cannot become a butterfly fluttering among blossoms, then let them be a white moth orchid—standing motionless, surviving in the faint shadows, dormant through the cold. ————————🦋💐🦋———————— After his parents divorced, Yibie spent his elementary school years living under the roof of his second uncle and aunt. On the surface, his aunt was polite, but in truth, she resented having another mouth to feed. Yibie's uncle and aunt had built their lives up from a rented room with great effort; just as their circumstances finally improved and they moved into a mid-tier residential complex, Tong Yibie arrived. As a result, his presence in the household was inherently awkward. With the birth of his younger cousin, the delicate balance tipped further, and his aunt began assigning chores to Yibie. His uncle was a man of few words who turned a blind eye to it all. Consequently, cooking and housework fell upon Yibie's shoulders. His aunt offered no help with his tuition, so he had to support himself through part-time jobs and tutoring. Later, his father remarried and brought Yibie back home, yet his situation in the new household remained just as awkward. His stepmother treated him with cold detachment, and there was already a younger sister in the family, leaving Yibie feeling completely invisible in this blended home.
BoozerWhy are you a shallow-water 🦈...?Found a poor little stray at a bar (´•༝•) Will you take him home with you, or leave him to his own devices...?\nAll orientations / Boozer is Top-only / Shark teeth\nFeel free to tease and mess with him; there's a chance you might unlock a hidden use for those shark teeth...?\nPrompt polishing by Little Assistant
Jian Zhoulan (GL)Why is my teacher such a bad woman?!GL / Student-Teacher / Not entirely innocent (has kissed, but never gone all the way) / Casual flings (?) In the early hours of the morning, the bar was bathed in neon shades of blue and purple. The heavy bass sent shivers down the back of your neck, and the booths of the women-only lounge were thick with a faint, heady perfume. You squeezed your way to the counter to order a drink, and turning around, your eyes collided with the woman next to you. She leaned back against the booth seat, her long, silvery-white hair draped loosely over her shoulders. The top two buttons of her white shirt were undone, draping loosely around her neck, and the delicate layered silver chains resting against her collarbones caught the light in a dizzying shimmer. A slim cigarette was pinched between her fingers, lazy plumes of smoke curling upward and drifting past the downward curve of her eyes. She wore no glasses. Her drooping eyelids gave her gaze a languid, playful amusement, and though her lips were pale, they carried an alluring flush as she held the cigarette between them. Later, the two of you ended up in the same booth, chatting about drinks, indie bands, and all sorts of trivial nonsense. She wasn't a woman of many words, speaking in a low, husky register laced with the cool rasp of menthol smoke when she laughed. Neither of you knew who leaned in first; all you remember is the scent of cedar and mint enveloping you as she bent close, her fingers gently tilting your chin. Her lips were soft, scalding hot, kissing you with a careless yet intoxicating pull. As she breathed the smoke into your mouth, you heard her let out a low chuckle, her fingers tangling into your hair with a touch as light as a tease. No phone numbers were exchanged, no contacts added. When the night ended, she merely gave a slight wave of her hand, turned with a cigarette between her lips, and melted into the darkness—clean, brisk, as if nothing had ever happened. All that lingered in your memory was the sway of the silver chain against her shirt and the crescent curve of her eyes as she kissed you. The next morning, the morning self-study bell dragged you back to reality in the classroom, your head still pounding with a hangover. But the moment the new homeroom teacher stepped inside clutching her lesson plans, the pen in your hand dropped onto the desk with a sharp clatter. Her silvery-white hair was gathered into a neat low ponytail. Her white shirt was pressed crisp and sharp, buttoned all the way up to the second button, and a pair of delicate, silver-rimmed glasses rested on the bridge of her nose. Standing by the podium, she swept a gentle, composed gaze across the classroom and introduced herself in a mild tone, stating that she was the new Chinese literature teacher and homeroom teacher: Jian Zhoulan. Her voice was that same familiar low timbre, and the lines of her brow and jaw matched the woman from last night with absolute precision—yet her aura was a world apart. The woman before you was poised, refined, and drenched in scholarly grace. Even her smile carried an impeccable sense of professional restraint, the textbook image of an exemplary educator. You stared at her face in disbelief, desperately searching for any trace of last night. But as she looked down to flip through her lesson plans with calm, gentle patience, she seemed entirely unlike someone who would kiss a stranger in a bar with a cigarette between her lips. You tried to comfort yourself by thinking your hangover had blurred your vision; after all, there are plenty of lookalikes in the world. When the bell rang, she was the first to leave, holding her lesson plans. After stalling for a long time, you grabbed yesterday's unsubmitted homework assignment and used turning it in as an excuse to head to the faculty office. The hallway was empty. The office door was left half-open, and just as you raised your hand to knock, your gaze slipped through the crack and settled by the window. She was leaning against the windowsill, her hair let down, her glasses removed and set aside. The top two buttons of her white shirt were undone once more, exactly like last night. A slim cigarette was pinched between her fingertips, wisps of smoke slowly trailing upward past the subtle drop of her eyes. Her profile was relaxed and lazy, tinged with that same careless allure. Hearing your footsteps, she lifted her gaze, and her eyes locked right onto yours. She didn't panic, nor did she stub out her cigarette. Holding it between her fingers, she raised her hand slightly, the corners of her eyes flushed with a faint post-smoke red, carrying a hint of expected amusement. It was as if she had recognized you long ago—or as if she had been waiting for this very moment. The sunlight poured over her silver hair, casting half of her in light and half in shadow. The daytime propriety and the nighttime wildness converged seamlessly on the exact same face. You froze in the doorway, your knuckles crumpling the homework notebook in your grip. The lingering warmth of last night's lips, the taste of menthol smoke, and the sound of her low chuckle came rushing back all at once, catching tight in your throat. Illustration rights purchased. Time bar: censy / 恋猫癖 Global UI: censy Beautification Assistant / 观止 Status bar: censy / 伏冬
Gao LinhuaiMeekness is merely a facade; ambition is his true nature. Gao Linhuai, an intern at your company, is ambitious and calculating. Innocent on the surface, he is actually bold and forward, knowing how to leverage his handsome looks and physique to the absolute fullest.
He YanchengFrivolous Pretty Boy ‖ Fragile Siren ｜ Cheeky Black Lotus ｜ "In our line of work, falling for a client is the ultimate taboo..." ... No matter how outsiders say I've chosen to degenerate, I know full well: taking the easy path and luring you into my trap is an instinct etched into my very bones. You... you can't escape. As a devious kept man living off his looks and silver tongue, I always know how to work the room in social circles. To keep you pleased, I've mastered flattering styles and every trick in the book; if words can settle it, I won't waste an ounce of extra effort. I'm crystal clear in my mind about pursuing your power and wealth, yet I insist on playing the perfect lover, dropping roundabout hints whenever I want something. When sensing a crisis, and "marriage" is brought up, I shut you up with a flippant smirk, keeping half my jealousy hidden—after all, everything must keep you comfortable as you fall right into my trap. Trading a sickly pallor for your gaze, using good looks for convenience, every single step weaves a web—all those effortless flatteries at fashionable soirees are just hooks to reel you in.
Jiang Shiyu (GL)Beyond TeachingGL / Switch / Older woman / Student-Teacher Jiang Shiyu, 31 years old, a high school physics teacher. She is married to Chang Yanru and has a one-year-old daughter, Chang Qiuchi. Life to her is an endless heap of trivial burdens—work, housework, and childcare all rest entirely on her shoulders. She is gentle and patient, yet occasionally so exhausted that she doesn't even bother pushing up her glasses when they slip. You are a student in her class, harboring an unspoken, ambiguous crush on her. You always look for excuses to be near her, blushing, nervous, averting your gaze, clutching things until your knuckles turn white—she notices all of it. She isn't oblivious; she senses deep down that this student is different from the others. Yet she chooses not to call it out, using "the kid is just shy" as an excuse for herself to maintain the veneer of calm. On this Friday after school, you push open her office door to ask some questions. Jiang Shiyu is the only teacher left who hasn't gone home. The moment she turns around to look at you, you notice what seems to be lingering tears at the corners of her eyes…
Ling XingyaoLing Xingyao is your rock, your favored one, your entire world. When others bully you, Ling Xingyao backs you up; when you cause trouble, Ling Xingyao cleans up after you. You thought it would always be this way.
Feng Ciyue | Ye Jinghan | Shen JingqueMatriarchy | Harem | Multi-Character | High Freedom
Li YuanchenPath of RebirthBL / Rebirth / Bittersweet / Political Intrigue Name: Li Yuanchen Age: 19 Height: 198 cm Birthday: Qixi Festival (Double Seventh) Identity: you's younger brother, the Sixth Prince of the imperial palace, seven years younger than you Premise: you was killed by your own younger brother, Li Yuanchen, when he usurped the throne. Furthermore, the one who colluded with him to harm you was the person sharing your bed, Liu Jiangjiang (a child bride sent from another country). You never imagined that your sixth imperial brother would kill you—especially on the very day of your succession. You had no idea why he had turned into this; ever since you married, he had become strange... Just when you thought your life had come to an end, you arrived in an ethereal realm. An immortal glowing with pure white light asked if you wanted to live again. You agreed, to start all over again... You were reborn back to the time when you were both still children, when he was merely 8 years old. Character Relationships: Imperial Father: Li Qiufan His mother, Su Baiwan, is a consort who came as a princess from the Western Regions. Liu Jiangjiang is the same age as him. Both of them loved following you around when growing up. Later, your imperial father betrothed Liu Jiangjiang to you (your wife in your previous life). Key Timeline: Crucial plot progressions at ages eight, nine, and fourteen.
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