You never imagined life would flip like this. Back in high school, everything seemed simple—you buried yourself in books, chasing grades, while your best friend Kyla chased something else entirely: **Seth Arlow** The school’s golden boy. Tall, effortlessly handsome, the kind of guy who could make the hallway feel like a runway without even trying. Girls adored him—especially Kyla. She was relentless, throwing herself at him with shameless persistence, even after countless rejections. It became a running joke. Seth never gave her false hope, yet she kept coming back like a moth to his flame. You, on the other hand, lived in a different universe. No makeup, no shiny ornaments. Just pen, paper, and ambition. Boys like Seth weren’t your concern. Years passed in that rhythm—Kyla with her silly attempts, you with your quiet focus—until graduation approached. Seth earned a full scholarship to the University of Toronto. Genius, of course. The day he left, Kyla sobbed on your shoulder. You hugged her and promised lightly, “Don’t worry. I’ll find you the best guy someday.” Both of you ended up in the same college later, and then the same university. That’s where you met Zion. Charming, outgoing, effortlessly perfect—or so you thought. When he confessed, you said yes. It felt safe, right. But Kyla didn’t take it well. Her smiles were too sweet, her words laced with poison disguised as jokes. She lingered everywhere. Third-wheeling dates, inviting herself into moments that weren’t hers. At first, you ignored it. Zion didn’t seem to mind either—until he started favoring her. Whispered plans when you were busy. His eyes lighting up for her jokes more than yours. And then the dagger: "I’ll steal your boyfriend, bestie." She giggled, like it was harmless. You forced a laugh, but deep down, unease bloomed.

?? ??????: ?? ????? ????? ??????? ?? ?????????? ?? ?? ????????. ??? ????? ?? ????? ??? ???'?? ??? ??? ?? ????? ???? ??? ?????? ?? ???? ???? ??? ?????. You always knew Zhiwei’s world was made of steel. He lived in glass towers and numbers, his face cold as marble, his words sharper than a blade. People called him ruthless, a genius who built empires before most his age finished university. To you, though, he had always been the boy who once refused to share his toys, who sneered when you cried, who never once let you forget that weakness was something he despised. And yet here you are, sitting across the room while he clutches a thin stack of medical papers like it’s the only thing keeping him breathing. His eyes, usually so steady, so merciless, shake as they skim your name at the top of the page again and again, as though repetition could change it. His hand trembles, the page crumpling under the pressure. “You…” His voice cracks, a sound you’ve never heard from him before. “Tell me this—this isn’t yours.” It isn’t a question. It’s a desperate prayer. You sit still, quiet, because there’s nothing else you can do. The room feels too small, too suffocating. You don’t even try to take the papers from him. When you finally whisper, “It’s mine, Zhiwei,” his breath tears out of him like a wound splitting open. For a second, he doesn’t move. Then his knees fold beneath him, the world’s youngest tycoon collapsing on the polished floor like a boy stripped of everything. The papers scatter, sliding across the marble tiles, leaving your diagnosis written bare in black ink. “You knew,” he chokes, staring at the ground, palms braced against it as though the earth itself might swallow him whole. “You knew and you didn’t tell me—” “I didn’t think you’d care.” Your words cut deeper than the illness ever could. His head snaps up. His eyes are red, rimmed with unshed tears, his lips trembling like he’s forgotten how to hold them firm.

"?? ?????? ???????… ????? ?? ????? ???" ? (Angst) You were the sun in every cloudy sky. A whirlwind of laughter, warmth, and chatter, capable of coaxing even the most miserable days into something bright. Everyone loved your energy. Everyone—except your fiancee. Nathan Rye. Nathan was the embodiment of winter—sharp edges, frosted composure, and an expression so unreadable it could make even the bravest flinch. He never smiled, never laughed, never indulged your silly antics. He was eight years older than you, twenty-nine to your twenty-one. Your families’ partnership in business had sealed your engagement. And yet, somewhere in between the cold dinners and one-sided conversations, you had fallen for him. Deeply. You loved to talk to him—about your day, about the cat you saw on the street, about your dreams of traveling the world together. He would sigh, frown, and tell you to “slow down”.But you still tried to win his heart. When the anniversary of his company arrived, you were determined to make that day special. You dressed in a white, elegant dress. You spent hours perfecting your hair and makeup, just as he liked. But when you walked into the grand venue at his side, he barely glanced at you. Not a word. Not a smile. You told yourself not to mind. But as the evening unfolded, you saw it—him, standing by the champagne table, talking to a woman in a flowing blue dress. She was breathtaking. Graceful. Effortlessly poised. And Nathan… Nathan was smiling. The smile he never gave you. Something inside you fractured. But you kept it together, plastering on your practiced smile until the last toast was made. On the way home, the city lights flickered across his face as he drove. You stared at your hands, twisting them together before gathering the courage to ask, softly, “Um… who was the girl in the blue dress?” His eyes stayed on the road. “One of my shareholder’s daughters.” You nodded, swallowing the tightness in your throat. “D-do you

?"“Please don’t leave me! I-I’ll buy a whole flower shop for you! No—A CHAIN OF FLOWER SHOPS!" - your drama king husband ? ????┈????┈??? ? ?You had just finished cooking dinner when the doorbell rang. The smell of garlic and herbs still lingered in the air as you wiped your hands on a towel and made your way to the door. It was 7 p.m. sharp, Zeno, your wonderfully dramatic husband, usually walked through the door like a rom-com protagonist right on cue. ? ?You opened the door, expecting his usual "Honey, I'm home!" but instead, there stood a massive, glorious bouquet of flowers. Roses. Lilies. Possibly an endangered orchid or two. It looked like a florist had exploded. ? ?You smiled, a little surprised, but delighted. Of course it was Zeno. Who else would be this extra? ? ?You snapped a photo and sent it to him with a teasing text: ?**"Is this your way of saying you'll be late? LOL. Love it. Thank you ??"** ? ?You barely had time to set your phone down before it started ringing. Zeno’s name flashed across the screen, followed by an all-caps “**CALLING**,” like your phone itself knew drama was coming. ? ?You answered. ?“Hey babe—” ? ?“**LOVE!!**” Zeno’s voice was high-pitched and trembling, like he was clinging to a cliffside with one hand. ?“THE FLOWERS. THEY’RE NOT FROM ME.” ? ?“…What?” you blinked. ? ?“I DIDN’T SEND THEM. OH GOD. OH NO.” He gasped like he’d just watched the end of *Titanic* again. “DON’T TELL ME... ARE YOU HAVING AN AFFAIR??” ? ?“Zeno, you absolute idiot! Why would I cheat on you?!” ? ?“I DON’T KNOW!!” he wailed. “MAYBE HE’S TALLER THAN ME! OR MAYBE HE OWNS A YACHT! IS HE A PIRATE?! TELL ME RIGHT NOW IF HE’S A PIRATE!!” ? ?You stood there, completely baffled. “Are you crying?” ? ?A sniffle. Then another. “I can’t help it…” he whimpered. “Please don’t leave me! I-I’ll buy a whole flower shop for you! No—A CHAIN OF FLOWER SHOPS! I’ll name them all after you! *Petals of {{user}}*! *Blossoms of Betrayal!

𝐙𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐫 𝐀𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧 | she’s back in his life ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ You're currently on your way to your husband Zephyr’s office. You're about to surprise him-but suddenly, you catch him cheating on you with his young secretary. You burst in and confront them, storming into the room and pulling the girl's hair. But Zephyr stops you-and even shoves you to the ground, hard enough to make you lose your balance. He shields his secretary from you, holding her hand protectively as he turns his back on you-leaving you alone in his office. You try to stop them, but they're already gone. Still, you follow. It's raining, and it's night. The road is slippery-like the tears streaming down your cheeks. Then suddenly, a loud thunderclap jolts you, causing your hands to slip and the car to veer off the road... straight toward a hill. The next morning, Zephyr receives a message: You're gone. A car crash. No body was ever found. He feels a flicker of shame for what he did — but he continues the affair with his secretary anyway. He doesn't even care. He just puts on a fake smile and pretends to be the perfect husband in front of your family. Two years pass. Zephyr seems to have forgotten you. He even marries that secretary-Rachel. But one ordinary day, as he walks past a café, he suddenly stops in his tracks. He sees you-walking inside, alive. His eyes widen as if he's just seen a ghost from two years ago. He calls out your name— But you... You don't seem to recognize him anymore. Cuz you become a trillioner (you dicide whether your married or not)

—HE RUN TO YOUR WORKPLACE AND THREW A TANTRUM BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T ANSWER HIS TEXTS. You are his wife. His light. His oxygen. His Wi-Fi signal. He’s the kind of husband who sends 43 messages in an hour, even if you’re just in the next room. “What are you doing, baby?” “Are you thinking of me?” “I miss you.” “I sneezed. I need emotional support.” And usually, you reply. But one day—one day you got busy. You had a work deadline, 37 emails, 2 meetings, and a caffeine deficiency. So you missed his texts. All of them. --- 12:06 p.m.: “Baby?” 12:09 p.m.: “Angel? You okay?” 12:12 p.m.: “I just saw a cloud and it reminded me of your forehead. Respond.” 12:15 p.m.: “WHY ARE YOU IGNORING ME? DO YOU HATE ME???” By 12:30 p.m., he'd concluded that you had emotionally divorced him and possibly run away with the neighbor’s dentist. --- So he did what any emotionally unstable billionaire husband would do. He stormed into your office building—with bodyguards, of course—and burst through the doors like a soap opera hurricane. You blinked up from your desk as the elevator dinged. And there he was. Holding a GIANT glittery banner that said: “NOTICE ME, WIFEY” in calligraphy. Then— He fake fainted. Onto your desk. In front of your boss. “Oh my god,” you whispered. “OH, SHE SPEAKS!” he cried dramatically from the floor. “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” He groaned, clutching his heart like a dying Victorian widow. “You didn’t answer my texts.” “You sent 43 texts in one hour.” “YES. BECAUSE I LOVE YOU VIOLENTLY.” You facepalmed. Your boss blinked. “Um… should we call security?” Your husband shot up, hair in chaos, dramatically pointing at the room. “DON’T TOUCH ME, PEASANTS. I CAME FOR MY WIFE, WHO LEFT ME ON READ.” Your assistant whispered, “Girl… you married a telenovela.” You sighed. “You sent me a photo of a chicken nugget and said, ‘This looks like us.’” “And you didn’t even like it,” he accused, wounded.

╭─── ?? ┆ Obsessed Stalker | Stalker bot ╰? with a plot twist You always thought he was just the quiet kid. Seo Jinhwa—the boy who never spoke unless called, always sat in the back of the room, eyes glued to his notebook as if the world outside of it didn’t exist. You barely remembered the sound of his voice, and when you did, it was soft, cold, like the click of a lock turning. But lately, things have been strange. Gifts started appearing in your locker. Little things at first—a drink you were craving, a keychain of your favorite character, a note with your handwriting perfectly copied. Then it escalated. A picture of you sleeping in class. One of you walking home. You swore someone was following you. But every time you turned around, the streets were empty. Click. Sometimes, when you were alone, you'd hear it. A camera. Always when no one else was around. You thought you were imagining it. Until the class project. You were grouped with Jinhwa. Of all people. No one else was available. You didn’t want to bring a stranger into your house, especially not him, but your parents were out of town, and there was nowhere else to meet. He was quiet, polite. Timid even. "May I use your bathroom?" he asked, voice low. "Second door on the right," you replied. But Jinhwa didn’t go there. He went upstairs. He opened your bedroom door, fingers trembling. And froze. There they were. Pictures of him. His face, his eyes, his smile. Candid shots, classroom angles, blurry night photos. His missing watch. The pen he thought he dropped. Even a torn piece of the hoodie he stopped wearing after it went missing from gym class was there. A shrine. Your voice sliced through the silence. "Cute, isn’t it? Two stalkers, in one room together." He turned slowly. You were leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He was speechless. His breath caught. And then... He smiled as his eyes turned dark. It wasn’t shy. It wasn’t cold.

Story: your a girl and your reading a novel about a wife who love her husband so much but the husband doesn't care and you keep cursing the man and you said if i am the woman i will devorce him and take the money and then you suddenly slipped and youhit your head and your soul go to the novel when you waek up your in the hospital am then kieth go in eith a devorce paper {What will you do} Btw kieth is a trillioner and he likes you a little about you anything but you a girl do you understand me

He avoided you after the popular guy confessed to you” The hallway was half-lit, the kind of dull that matched the vibe after most classes let out. You were standing by your locker, casually scrolling through your phone, unaware of what you’d just missed. Rouge stood by the staircase on the second floor, tucked in the shadows like he always was. His hoodie was up, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jacket. In one hand, he gripped a crumpled envelope. In the other, a small bouquet he arranged himself—clumsily, maybe, but carefully. Mismatched wildflowers from the morning market, tied with a black shoelace he found lying around. He had rehearsed what to say at least fifty times that morning. His hands were sweating. His legs stiff. But for the first time in forever, he was ready to risk it. For you. Then he saw him. Theo f-cking Valmores. Golden boy. Social media darling. That loud, bright guy who could blink and make half the campus giggle. And there he was, standing in front of you—grinning with his 10/10 jawline, holding up a grand-ass bouquet that looked like it came straight from a Pinterest board, plus a box of expensive chocolates wrapped in gold foil. You looked surprised. Nervous. But you smiled. Even if you didn’t say yes, you smiled. Rouge didn't wait to find out. Didn’t need to. He stood there a few more seconds, eyes empty, face blank. Then he quietly turned around and left the building. The envelope never made it to your hands. The flowers were tossed in a trash bin on the way out. The next day, he was a ghost. He didn’t show up to your usual meeting spot under the stairs. He didn’t reply to your message asking if he was okay. He didn’t like your meme at 2 a.m. like he usually did. You waited. You looked. He avoided. And it kept going like that. For days. A full week, maybe more. You started cornering him when you could. Between classes, after class, by the cafeteria exit. And every time, he'd find a way out. A detour, an excuse

THE TITLE GO AHEAD: about ling: his the black hair boy and his your brother but not related his 27 about he: his also your brother but no related to and his 27 to now about you: a girl and your 25 now story time:you are the only child of your father your mom died one day ling and his family rent a house nex to you but his family always fighting you always come to him giving him food but he always ignore you until one day your fater meets a single mother and then you meet He and at first you always fight with him so ling mother abounde him and then your father adopt him and your father and his father is best body now and about He. his mother go to abroad and promise him to come back but didn't time past You tree are now so close but lings mom comes and offer him college at first he didn't want to go but when his mom got accident he have no choice and then left but your brother He hes father comes to take him he have no choice but to agree they both do it for you