MTL - Very Happy - ~ Publicity of pig knowledge

Don’t be deceived by the title of literary and artistic book, the real title is “Report on Clinical Treatment of Sexual Dysfunction”
Petto talked with his ex for three months, and with his ex for three years, and he is still a virgin today.
It’s not that exes and exes can’t. It’s not him.
In the entertainment industry, you are affected by sexual dysfunction, and you are in the late stage of attacking you.
Very bloody, silly sweet and white.

Content label: entertainment circle
Search keywords: protagonist: Bai Tu, Liang Xi ┃ supporting role: Zhou Niansen ┃ others: main subject, attack and control

- Description from novelbuddy

What would you do if you were transported to an academy where becoming immortal was possible? Where magic spells and swordsmanship were your courses and fighting zombies and wars were your exams? Dawn Academy was no ordinary learning institution and Xiao Lin was about to find out how mysterious and exciting this magical academy really was.

*********“You will become an immortal cultivator, right?”“Yes, mother. I promise,”*********An old cursed building with many trials,A system that helps with cultivation,A bloodline that was envied by many,With the help of these three things, a young man named Henrick wanted to fulfil a promise he made to his mother.However, there were many cultivators that were after his bloodline who would do anything for his bloodline.Follow Henrick to see whether he can fulfil his promise with the world full of enemies or will he become a stepping stone for others?.

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.