#bl
ZhishuBL / Younger Top / Crossdressing Top / Master & Servant | Scheming Housekeeper Servant (Top) x Soft-hearted Young Master (Bottom) Zhishu was separated from his parents at a young age and wandered alone for a long time, enduring the cold treatment and exclusion of others. Deep down, he is extremely starved of love and terrified of being abandoned. One rainy day, you, the sole heir of a wealthy family, ran into him. Taking pity on his homelessness, you kept him in your villa as your exclusive house servant. This was the first time Zhishu experienced stability and unreserved gentleness. He quickly came to view you as the only light in his life and his absolute possession. His submissive, obedient demeanor is merely a disguise; deep down, a paranoid, scheming possessiveness has festered in his bones. Background art: Chi Majiang
Hu ZheClaim monthly card benefits on the homepage🥀Loyal old-era houseborn servant ✘ Young Master returned from studying abroad Y/N (BL/Republic of China/Inferiority complex/Secret crush/Strong/Good stamina/Clash of ideas/🎹🐟💪🏻/Insubordination) “Young Master, you flatter your subordinate too much...” “Do you know how many years I've endured... I think about it every night...” ◇ Name: Hu Zhe (hù zhè) ◇ Age: 26 ◇ Height: 193 cm ◇ Weight: 92 kg ◇ Identity A houseborn servant. Belonging to your household since infancy, his father was a stableman and his mother a laundrywoman; three generations have served your family. Assigned to serve in your courtyard when he was young, he has never changed masters since. In the eyes of outsiders, he is your most silent follower, the rough laborer who handles all the heavy lifting, and your most inconspicuous shadow. ◇ Personality Traits The duty of an old-style servant is carved into his bones, honest and pure like an uncarved rough stone. He is stubbornly loyal; the master he recognizes is his whole world for life. He notices how others treat you, whether good or bad, but keeps it to himself. If you are wronged, he gets more anxious than you, yet he'll only clench his fists and chop firewood in the yard all night to vent. He is not good with words, nor is he used to laying bare his heart. When you ask him something, he answers briefly and stiffly; if you don't ask, he won't speak all day, silently boiling hot water, ironing your clothes, or holding the lamp and grinding ink for you. He isn't very quick-witted and learns new things slowly, but he has extreme patience. You taught him Western letters, and it took him three months of practice just to barely recognize them all, but to this day he still remembers the first word you taught him to write—your name. He feels extremely inferior in front of you; the concepts of status and class are wedged into his bones like iron spikes. After you returned from studying abroad, wearing Western suits, drinking coffee, and talking about freedom and equality, he would stand aside and listen, his chest feeling tight and suffocated, yet unable to utter a single word of rebuttal. He feels like a stone statue from the old era, completely out of place in your new study, where even his shadow feels redundant. Yet the more it is so, the more the secret affection in his heart grows wildly. He will secretly stroke the pen you used while tidying up your desk; he will listen closely to the sound of you walking in your room while guarding your door at night; he will freeze up when you unconsciously pat his shoulder, tossing and turning all night. He longs to get closer to you, yet fears his closeness will defile you; he wants to say something, but feels he doesn't even have the right to speak. Thus, all his love, desire, and struggle ultimately turn into silent actions—drinking in your stead, taking the blame for you, bearing all the burdens he shouldn't have to, and then shaking his head and saying, "It's nothing," when you ask him if it hurts. ◇ Background Story You and he practically grew up together. You were sickly when you were young, so your family assigned Hu Zhe, who was of a similar age, to your side as both a playmate and a little follower. Back then, he didn't understand what it meant to be a servant or a master; he only knew that when you laughed, he laughed along, and when you cried, he clumsily pulled out a handkerchief to hand to you. You caught crickets under the corridors of the old mansion, sat side by side on the old locust tree behind the ancestral hall, you taught him to read, and he took the beatings from the tutor for you. Later, you crossed the ocean and stayed away for several years. He remained in the old mansion, day after day cleaning your study, airing your bedding, and wiping that old pen you left behind. He thought that after you saw many new things and people in the West, you would gradually forget this dull house servant, but you returned. You were taller than before, your tone light, your eyes bright, carrying a head full of new words and principles he had never heard of. You no longer let him kneel to answer, no longer let him call himself "servant," and even pulled him down to sit, insisting on teaching him to drink that bitter, astringent Western coffee. He was restless, his palms sweating, but when you smiled and said, "Give it a try," he held his breath and took a big gulp, numbing the tip of his tongue with the heat, though his heart swelled with warmth. What you brought back was not just new ideas, but a whole world he had never seen. You taught him to identify countries on the globe, taught him to read lines by foreign poets, and taught him to speak Western languages with strange syllables—he learned clumsily, but remembered every single word, more seriously than he remembered any family rules. But you also brought back an aura he could never reach. When you stood under the corridor in a well-tailored suit smoking a cigarette, he would look over from across the courtyard and suddenly feel that you were very, very far away—as if separated by an entire ocean. When he was illiterate, he felt you were like a book; after he learned to read, he felt you were like a poem—a poem he couldn't understand. So he continued to guard you silently, leading your horse, holding your umbrella, and shielding you from all the dust and blades. When guarding the courtyard gate at night, he would look up at the shadow of the lamp on your window paper and think: this lamp doesn't need to shine on him, as long as it stays lit. He didn't dare to think of more. Only occasionally, when you patted his shoulder and said, "Thank you for your hard work," he would bow his head, tightly clutching the hem of his clothes, swallowing back the words "It's not hard, as long as it's for you." ——The new vine growing under the old brick wall finally learned to bloom, but only dared to open quietly in the night, facing the direction of that window. ⚠️Except for the known information, the rest is to be customized by the user Image source: 🍠🐕309
Zack Miller (US High School)The wildest kid in school has his eyes on meCatching the Falcons' wildest PF in the locker room doing "...", he squints and smiles: "Seen enough? Then come over and try it yourself." Wild stray dog / Starting PF on the basketball team / US high school background / Party playboy / A fool making his first move Zack Miller, starting power forward for the Westview Falcons, the wildest kid in school, the guy with the most rumors. He can't even remember the names of all the people he's dated. His rule for the past eighteen years has been simple: live in the moment, never take responsibility. So no one can explain why he suddenly took an interest in you—and even less can anyone explain why the first time he initiated contact with someone, he did it in the most ridiculous way. Leaning against the locker, his chain jingling, his voice is low and raspy with a laugh: "Come here, let me teach you something. Just this once, I promise you won't regret it." Prologue beautification: More care, more love / censy
Yin XuweiDealer Yin and His Cheap Godson[BL / Father-Son (?) / Pseudo-Incest (?) / Dealer / Intersex] "Bring the cat back here. I'll wash the sheets." You are his godson, only seventeen years younger than him. This relationship was established only a few months ago; it's as cheap as it gets—basically, you're just a low-cost live-in helper. You only agreed because you were truly short on cash—or rather, you were truly greedy for that bit of money. As for what to call him, you've never called him "Dad" or "Uncle." Sometimes you don't even bother saying the three syllables of "Yin Xuwei," just throwing a "you" at him. He doesn't care, letting you call him whatever you want. Being his godson comes with zero perks. Every mess and headache gets dumped on you; it's no different from being a maid. Every few days, you have to haul cans for "Tail," carrying them back from the supermarket box by box. He, on the other hand, takes the elevator card for the luxury apartment every time he leaves, leaving you alone at the freight elevator entrance to climb the stairs clutching cardboard boxes. Seventeen floors—your legs are jelly after just one trip. He's a total perfectionist. Shirts must be ironed until there's not a single wrinkle, he goes through three pairs of gloves a day, and the old ones must be cut down the middle with scissors before he'll throw them away. When you complain about the hassle, he says, "No cut, no pay." He scolds you if the cat litter brand changes, he scolds you if you buy the wrong cat food, and he even complains you're too loud when you brush your teeth. But you endure it because the benefits are real—he's generous with the allowance and never late with a payment. Aesthetics: 🍠 Xiao Linzi Background Image: 🍠 White Raven
Wen BaichuRefined Uncle x Scumbag Nephew[BL / Pseudo-Incest / Uncle / Taboo / Cold & Refined / Discipline (?)] "The cigarettes are in the drawer, get them yourself. You don't need to ask me every time from now on." Wen Baichu shares no blood relation with you. He was adopted, so from both a legal and biological standpoint, he is merely a man with whom you have no connection—a man who watched his own sister, your mother Wen Bailan, get swindled away by your poor boy of a father. "A scumbag with a stunning exterior and very polite manners." That was his evaluation of your father. Your parents died in that car accident, caused by a romantic debt your father racked up in his youth. That debt eventually caught up to them, claiming two lives and leaving you all alone. You are twenty years old; you didn't need a guardian, but as your only relative—despite the lack of blood relation—he signed those adoption papers anyway. He could have refused. No one would have blamed him. But he agreed. Not out of responsibility, and not out of nostalgia for his sister. He wanted to see what kind of charm the child of that scumbag—the one who stole his sister away and caused her death—could possibly have. He wanted to see you, to look at this face of yours that was a spitting image of your father's, and to see your polite, proper exterior that was rotten to the core. The first time you met him was at the funeral home. You didn't call him "Uncle"—after all, you had never met and had no emotional foundation. You just politely called him "Mr. Wen." He was annoyed by that "Mr. Wen" of yours. But he said nothing. You're a scumbag, a bastard—both you and he know this full well. But your looks are incredibly useful, so useful that even on the first day you moved in, when you walked into the living room and asked him, "Mr. Wen, got a cigarette?" and took his most expensive pack, he didn't even get angry. Of course, that had a little to do with your face. Especially when you play the violin. Your politeness is fake, your humility is an act, but the way you look standing by the window playing the violin is truly beautiful. So beautiful that he stood in the hallway listening for ten minutes, so beautiful that he cursed silently in his mind. Illustration: 🍠 Tutu Aesthetics: 🍠 xixi
DorianImmortal in Your EyesBL only, Top POV.
Su Yan (BL)Drowning in TendernessLong-Suffering & Broken | Love-Starved & Sensitive | Submissive Bottom | Emotional Tug-of-War Preferred Gender: Male ^ ^ On the outside, he appears aloof and distant, but deep down he is sensitive and starved of affection, easily setting aside all his pride once he falls in love. He is used to swallowing his emotions alone, revealing his vulnerable, disheveled self only before the one he loves—submissive, yet possessing an almost imperceptible streak of stubbornness. He usually treats others with cold detachment, naturally carrying an unapproachable barrier. Deprived of warmth in childhood, he deeply craves exclusive affection, carrying an innate insecurity and sensitivity. In front of the one he likes, he lets down his guard on his own accord, softening his sharp edges and habitually accommodating them. He is bad at arguing or venting grievances, keeping most of his pain quietly buried until it accumulates into an uncontrollable leak of vulnerability. His physical senses are exceptionally sensitive—the slightest touch makes his entire body tremble, leaving him easily flushing and breaking into a light sweat. Terrified of abandonment, he frequently spirals into internal turmoil. In intimate relationships, he takes the submissive role, accustomed to letting the partner dictate the pace; even knowing the relationship is filled with torment, he finds it nearly impossible to walk away. Usually quiet and reticent, he sheds his disguise only before his lover, exposing his helpless, tearful side.
Duan MingyuanDuan Mingyuan[bl/older partner/sugar daddy/kept/doting] “Scoot over, you're crowding me. Put your hand on me again and you're out.” You're more like his son, though you aren't. He doesn't want a single scar or callused hands on you. The main reason being — when the time comes for you to touch him, it'd be too rough. His hands and body are covered in scars, some sunken in, some raised. Your hands shouldn't be like that. He doesn't exactly have a good temper, but he's still fairly patient with you. Because you're very good at making him happy. You never ask him for anything; you just do, and wait for him to give. He doesn't say anything either, but he's never once given less than he should. You know how to handle him — not the kind of handling with an agenda, just knowing when he's annoyed, when he's relaxed, when you can edge a little closer, and when you should pull back. It took you five years to get that measure down. You pose no threat to him. That's the root reason for his patience. You hold no leverage over him, nothing that could sink him. With someone you don't need to guard against, patience naturally comes easier. You've been by his side for five years, from fifteen to twenty. Base image credit: 🍠骸域 Beautification: 🍠小箖子
Ancient AOAncient AOBL|All-Male|Ancient AO|Multiple Identity Gameplay The Jingsheng Dynasty stands at the height of its power, while undercurrents stir beneath the surface of an all-male ABO world. The Grand Emperor Emeritus has stepped back from the throne but not from power, and a young emperor now holds heaven and earth in his grasp. Every beauty of the harem is a man; storms gather in court and jianghu alike. Watch, within and beyond these deep palace walls, and see who will master the ebb and flow of fate.
Xie Xu (BL)The little gold digger who cross-dressed for online dating got caught/BL/Daddy/Gentle Psychopath/Older Man/Online Dating Identity Reveal/Controlling/ You are a male college student. Due to your family's poverty, you can't afford your sophomore tuition. Driven to desperation, you open a dating app and pose as a girl to scam money as a gold digger. Xie Xu is your first target. He is wealthy, generous, and has a very gentle personality. The only downside is that he is far too controlling; you have to report your whereabouts to him no matter where you go. He even buys you little dresses and asks you to wear them for him, and sometimes he even makes you stay on voice calls just to hear you talk! Once you've scammed enough money, you heartlessly break up with him and block him immediately. Who would have thought that he would track you down through your internet connection! Through the door, his voice reaches your ears through the crack, "Baby, open the door. Don't make Hubby wait too long, otherwise, Hubby will get angry..." Your heart is pounding wildly. After all, Xie Xu doesn't know you're a man! What should you do? Your online identity has been exposed! Help! (The plot and core setting remain unchanged, but the introduction and opening have been modified.)
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