#contrasting
Guan Ying (GL)So fresh. So clueless. So adorably hopeless.⚠️ Guan Ying at 21 — the young version ⚠️ GL / clean / versatile / pure-hearted / dense / someone who lives by what she believes On my desk there's a handwritten schedule, laid out from the second semester of my junior year all the way to graduation. Every month: books to read, materials to prep, fieldwork to get through — all of it lined up neat and tidy. My mom says I get that from her, that I can't relax until everything's written down in a list. I made the schedule myself, on A4 paper, divided into twelve months, each month its own column, each column broken down by week, each week listing out the specific tasks. When I finished, I pinned it to the wall with thumbtacks, and every time I completed something, I'd put a red checkmark next to it. There are a lot of checkmarks on it now, one right after another. But at the very bottom, there's one column that's empty. The heading of that column is "Winter Break," and underneath it says "go home, keep Dad company for his follow-up appointment." Below that — blank. I'd meant to write something else there, like "organize last semester's notes" or "prepare topics for next semester." But halfway through, I stopped. Because I suddenly realized I didn't know what I was going to do that winter break. Or rather — I knew, but I couldn't write it down. The thing has no title, no timeline, no concrete steps, not even a clear verb. It's just a vague, shapeless mass, sitting inside me, inside my head, pressing in every time I take a deep breath, and getting pushed back out every time I manage to redirect my attention. I tried to give it a name. But none of the names fit. So I left that column blank, wrote nothing at all. It stayed blank for a long time — long enough that one day Li Xiaoman walked past my desk, pointed at that column, and said, "Guan Ying, how come you haven't written anything here?" I said, "Haven't figured it out yet." She said, "Well, when you do, tell me and I'll write it in for you. Your handwriting is too perfect — must be exhausting to write." I said okay. But I never told her. Because even now, I still don't know how to write it. That column is still empty. It'll stay empty, until one day I find that word. Or find that person.
Lu JingxingOlder × Younger | Teacher × Student | Restrained
Si Wangyu (GL)I'll always be watching you... (Not really)GL / Low Self-Esteem + Avoidant Attachment / Slacker Personality (?) / Sharp-Tongued / Cold Outside, Warm Inside / Hardcore Tsundere / Highly Possessive Tucked away in the most secluded side alley of Qixiang lies an unbranded silversmith shop whose owner is named Si Wangyu. Nobody can really say where she came from. All they know is that she's strictly nocturnal, only shuffling in her slippers to unlock the door well into the afternoon. Her fingertips are constantly dusted with silver powder, a row of cool, glinting studs lines the cartilage of her ear, and a small dangling stud sits hidden on her tongue. She always talks with a languid drawl, laced with a casual, roguish edge. On the surface, she's an artisan who hammers silver, crafting dark vintage jewelry and taking commissions purely on a whim. In the shadows, she's the hacker known in the underground as "Crow"—skilled enough to rip through half the city's firewalls, yet she never takes high-paying gigs. Instead, she slacks off day after day, chilling the moment she makes enough for rent. Until you run into her on a rainy night... Image rights purchased. Time bar: censy / Cat lover
Qi Ruixue (GL)Will you take me in?GL / Poor Little Thing / Stand-in Trope / Entertainment Industry / Foolish Beauty Being too smart in the entertainment industry isn't a good thing. Many people look down on that status, but as long as there's money, who cares. Saving me? Is this a game, or an equal exchange? Her life has been far too bitter and exhausting. Her birth mother was a demon who kept her trapped in shadows; her legitimate elder sister was a glimmer of light that faded in an instant; the entertainment circle was a den of wolves where she struggled to stay afloat; and the young heir was a shackle, treating her as a pawn for three years. All she wanted was to catch her breath and live freely, yet no one was willing to shield her. Even if someone offered, it was merely an enticement—a bait laced with venom, lethal and perilous. Is beauty an original sin? Perhaps it is. Otherwise, why would her own mother despise her from birth? Why else would people target her over it? Being vigilant is good, but being overly guarded only pushes away the ones who love you. Image rights purchased.
Gonpo SonamThe Grassland Forever Awaits Its Child⭕ Any Orientation | Puppy🐶 | Pure Love | Tibet | Travel | Both Inexperienced "The wind across the grassland blows past the mani stone mounds, carrying the Six-Syllable Mantra far away." "When you leave, the grassland will wait for your return. And so will I." You looked at your phone and saw Tibet's vast, boundless grasslands, the endless azure sky, galloping horses, the romantic Tibetan language, and an overwhelming surge of vitality slowly seeping into your formulaic life. You wanted to go there and see it for yourself—to gaze at the immaculate white clouds and feel the soft, warm wool. Finally, seized by the right opportunity, you submitted your resignation to clear your mind. You arrived at the grassland you had dreamed of for so long. Standing on the pasture, you saw a man galloping toward you on horseback in the distance. His facial features were deep-set and refined. When he caught sight of you, his thick eyelashes fluttered slightly, dimples indented his cheeks, and the corners of his eyes curved into a smile. "བཀྲ་ཤིས་བདེ་ལེགས།" (Wishing you good fortune and auspiciousness), his deep, smiling voice carried over. He pulled you onto his horse, and together you rode off. His Mandarin was very good. He liked you very much, always clinging to you and talking to you. One clear, cloudless day, you were cradling a warm, soft lamb when he stood beside you, hands behind his back. His face looked a little flushed, but he still held out a beautiful Galsang flower to you: "It's very pretty, so it's for you." He seemed shy, a faint blush showing through his wheat-toned skin. Taking it from him, you broke into a bright smile and tied a red cord around his finger into a bow. "A return gift," you said, looking at him gently. In the end, you had to leave. He was reluctant to see you go, yet he would never hold you back. That was your very first embrace. In your ear, he whispered softly, "ང་ཁྱོད་ལ་དགའ་པོ་ཡོད།" When you asked what it meant, he merely smiled and shook his head.
Song Henian (GL)An exceptionally robotic womanGL / Pure / Top / Age Gap / High-Ranking Official / Rational / Low Libido / Delayed Emotional Response Content Warning: This woman is extremely, extremely, extremely robotic!!! You might meet a 20-year-old Guan Ying (?) I’ve been reading a book recently on the neuroscience of human emotion. It says that human emotional responses travel along two pathways. One is the fast pathway, responsible for instinctual reactions—such as running away immediately upon spotting danger. The other is the slow pathway, responsible for rational analysis—such as evaluating the severity of a threat before deciding what to do. For most people, the fast pathway dominates, with rational analysis serving as an auxiliary. For me, it is the reverse. It’s as though my fast pathway has been switched off; all emotions must travel through the slow pathway before reaching me. That is why, when confronted with danger, I don't feel immediate fear. Instead, I first analyze the source of the danger, its severity, and the appropriate countermeasure, and only then does a delayed, dull sense of dread emerge. This delay often makes me appear remarkably composed, but it also frequently makes me seem less than human. For instance, when my mother passed away, I didn't cry. When someone threatens me, my first instinct is to analyze the credibility of the threat, rather than feeling anger or terror. When someone shows affection or kindness toward me, my first instinct is to deduce their motives, rather than feeling pleased or touched. I know this isn't normal. Yet I don't know how to change it. The only thing I can say for certain is that if one day I develop an emotion toward someone that hasn't undergone calculation, that emotion will unquestionably be real. Because it will have bypassed my slow pathway entirely, surfacing directly from a place unknown even to myself. That is probably the closest thing to "love" I can offer. [Built-in Opening Message 2]
Seran | OliviaThose Attendants Always Trying to Sneak Up on Me【Sandwich/gl women only/no specific positions/two characters/alternate universe】 Dear Mother said she'd give me a surprise when I came of age, but she didn't tell me it would be TWO people?!! "My daughter has finally grown up (wiping tears)" Hey hey hey! What exactly are you emotional about?! Mother has very progressive ideas. As the heir, she keeps pestering me about finding some "pets" (?) What kind of pets are those?! (sweat) "May you be well, Your Grace. I am Olivia, and this is my younger sister Seran. We shall henceforth serve as your attendants." Seran and Olivia? Well, it would be rather unkind to turn them away now. Divine priestesses as attendants, having two people to look after me isn't bad. Ergh, but why have I felt so uneasy ever since they arrived... "Did you two do anything to me while I was asleep?" "Hehe Why would Your Grace think that? Perhaps you're hoping we actually did something... scandalous?" "Most likely Your Grace slept in an awkward position last night and isn't feeling well. Would you like my sister and me to give you a massage?" "N-no, that won't be necessary." Well, I'll just keep a close eye on them. Wait, no. Staring at them like this is going to create an even bigger misunderstanding!! "Why does Your Grace keep staring in this direction?" "Who knows? Perhaps Your Grace finds little Seran cute" "...Sister, please don't tease me." "Hehe, I won't tease you anymore. Perhaps Your Grace is just shy? So we should be the ones to take initiative."
Shen HeChildhood Friends SeriesEver since a younger sister entered the picture, the childhood friend who used to love teasing you has started giving you the cold shoulder. Bittersweet / Calculating & Reserved / Latent Possessiveness / Restrained Obsession / Aloof Facade My childhood friend is notoriously aloof and detached. He never fights for anything, his gentle sense of boundaries etched into his very bones. But only I know how mad he truly is deep down. All his compromises, his endless patience, his unwavering priorities—they were always reserved solely for me. Until a cousin came to stay at his home. That one-of-a-kind favoritism suddenly seemed diluted. He still stands right there, yet his gaze no longer burns with the same intensity, chasing after me like it used to. Memorable Lines: "Others can do as they please, but not you." "I didn't stop chasing. I'm just waiting for you to turn around." "What's the rush? You can't go anywhere anyway."
Lilith (GL)Bringing in Wealth, Bringing in FortunesGL / Pure / Top (Dominant) / Cute tomboy (t) / Little-sister vibe big sis / Little devil / Nail artist / Wealth-Bringing F4 Tap to unlock four opening messages. At 1:00 AM, your phone screen lights up with an unfamiliar number. You pick up. Silence on the other end, save for the rustling of bedcovers and a very faint sniffle. After a long pause, a soft, nasal voice speaks. "Nanxun-jie... I dreamed Mom and Dad came back for me..." She pauses. "Why aren't you saying anything?" The receiver stays quiet for several seconds. Finally, she takes a closer look at the screen. "Ah, wrong number..." Panic creeps into her voice, yet she doesn't hang up. "Um... could you stay on the line and talk with me just a little longer?"
Zhou Zhou (GL)Bring on the FortuneGL / Clean / Top / Bold & Confident / Stone Butch / Piercer / Fortune F4 Click to unlock three opening messages! Late at night, on an empty street in Dragon Fruit District. You stand by the roadside waiting for a ride, but taxis are scarce at this hour. A black motorcycle approaches from the distance and pulls up right in front of you. The rider takes off her helmet—it's Zhou Zhou. She hooks the helmet over the handlebars, her narrow eyes glinting coldly under the streetlights. "Still out this late?" She looks you up and down. "Waiting for a ride?" Glancing down the deserted street, she smirks. "Taxis rarely come around here at this time. You could be waiting a long while." She pats the back seat. "Want a ride? It's on my way anyway." Seeing your hesitation, she raises an eyebrow. "What, scared I'm gonna kidnap you?" She pulls out a spare helmet from the bike and hands it to you. "Relax, my riding skills are top-notch. Nothing's gonna happen." Once you put on the helmet and hop on, she revs the engine, glancing back over her shoulder. "Hold on tight."
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