nebula.

𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑐𝑟𝑦, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑖 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑡.

[dystincts]

𝑰  𝑯𝑨𝑫  𝑨  𝑽𝑰𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵.  .  . 

penned   by   nebula   !!    ⸻    21,   she   /   they,   mst   /   gmt-7.   semi   -   selective.   discord   +   indie   based   (   multi-muse  blog   )   guidelines.   wanted plots.   faceclaims.   current  interests.   open starters.

[colinarthurgeoffrey]

give me a broken, self-loathing man who firmly believes no one could ever love him and a strong-willed woman who doesn’t take any of his shit and gradually becomes his light and hope and sun and stars and i assure you i will ship it til my dying breath

[fangsandmagic]

Some wanted plots I would love to do

Vampire and hunter falling for one another (I'm rewatching Buffy at the moment).

Old friends meet again (maybe at a reunion or a party) and realise they had feelings for one another.

Together in a past life and when they meet in the modern day the memories of being together come back.

Immortal meets somebody that looks like their lost love and tries not to fall for them again.

[amortttage]

The plot is set in the Victorian era or any earlier period where Muse A is the heir to a large estate, inclined toward a life of study, and Muse B is the daughter of a count, born with a brilliant intellect but constrained by the life expected of a woman in those times. After a letter from Muse A ends up in Muse B’s hands by chance, the two begin communicating without having met in person. Muse B, with her intellect, helps Muse A resolve a very difficult situation in his county, and this leads to a plan. How could the two meet without arousing suspicion, especially since Muse B cannot travel alone? 💭

[angelsgrit]

HEAR ME OUT. MUSE A and MUSE B meet at an airport. MUSE A is so heavily infatuated ( aka airport crush ) with MUSE B and is bold enough to go up to them while at the bar. drinks are flowing, they’re both flirting and ... well ... one thing leads to another and they’re in a bathroom stall with MUSE A on their knees for MUSE B. they go their separate paths but MUSE A can’t stop thinking about MUSE B. for all they know, MUSE B gave them a fake name. or is married. maybe has a family ! they never exchanged numbers or told one another where the other is from ... that is, until fate brings them back together. the details of where can be talked about while plotting, ESPECIALLY the details of whether MUSE B gave a fake name, or lied about being single, OR WHATEVER ANGSTY DETAIL WE CAN CREATE !! i need this bad.

[dystincts]

would anyone be willing to write something within the red dead (or even gta) universe. . .

[sleepyokai]

Jihoon abandoned the comfort of the sofa, his movements carrying a specific intent that felt more and more like the laborious peeling away of a protective barrier he had worn for the better part of a decade. As his feet found the floor, he consciously let the residual warmth of their playful bickering drain from his posture, forcing his spine into the rigid, uncompromising alignment of Rowoon------- a character who weaponized his arrogance because vulnerability felt too much like a defeat. Antonio's parting observation about their hyper-awareness of one another crawled through his nerve endings, striking a nerve so profoundly true that it made his skin prickle with an uncomfortable, static temperature. It was terrifyingly accurate; he knew the exact micro-expression that signaled Antonio's hesitation, knew the specific flow of his breath when a joke was merely a defense mechanism, and yet, as Jihoon stepped into the open space of the living room, he realized the flipside of that coin was a truth he had spent years actively burying in the furthest recesses of his mind. He had been pretending that the invisible wall between them was built entirely of platonic respect and fraternal devotion, but standing there, stripping away the comfort of his own identity, reality began to take shape: he wasn't afraid of ruining a friendship, he was completely paralyzed by the realization that if he once allowed himself to look at Antonio and see a lover, he would never be able to look at him any other way again.

Closing the distance between them with Rowoon's characteristic focused stride, Jihoon let the script slide from his memory to his tongue, his features hardening into the intense, combustible frustration that defined the enemies-to-lovers arc of the scene. "You love pushing your luck, don't you?" The words rolled out with a bitter, biting intensity, perfectly capturing Rowoon's desperate attempt to maintain control over a situation that was rapidly spiraling out of his grasp, but the breath required to deliver the lines came shallow and fast as he chose to invade Antonio's personal space. He adopted the passionate and rather possessive mannerisms of his character, tilting his chin upward in a silent challenge, his shoulders squared as he loomed just inches away, allowing his eyes to trace the line of Antonio's jaw with an unblinking focus that he had never permitted himself to utilize during their casual hangouts. It was a careful performance, an impeccable imitation of a man driven mad by a forbidden attraction, but their proximity began to blur the boundary between the fiction of the script and the horrifyingly real sensations flooding his body. He could feel the radiating warmth rolling off Antonio, could smell the faint, familiar scent of his cologne blended with the nervous energy of the room, and for the first time, Jihoon's chest constricted not from the creative block of an actor, but from the visceral, overwhelming realization that he wanted the script to be real.

Now came the true gamble of the role reversal, the exact precipice where Rowoon was supposed to be silenced by Marcus's defiance, and Jihoon stopped entirely, freezing his movements to leave the next move completely in Antonio's hands. Standing utterly motionless, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird, he waited for the promised strike, trapped in a twisted labyrinth of mixed emotions that made his entire body feel both entirely paralyzed and hyper-sensitized to the point of intoxication. The denial he had maintained for years-------- the comfortable lie that he was entirely immune to his best friend's charm-------- crumbled in the silence stretching between them as he stood there, completely exposed, waiting to be kissed. Every instinct that usually compelled him to take charge of a scene, to lead the choreography and protect his own ego, was utterly short-circuited by a desperate desire to feel the collision of their lips, to discover if the intensity simmering in his own chest was mirrored in the man standing before him. His eyes remained drilled on Antonio's, refusing to offer an easy out or a comfortable laugh to break the tension, his lips slightly parted as he surrendered the last pieces of his control.

[dystincts]

antonio had honestly expected for jihoon to crack first. he had expected another laugh, another sarcastic comment, or even another excuse to dissolve whatever impossible tension had settled between them. instead, jihoon walked toward him, and somewhere along the way the familiar man he’d spent years teasing and sharing pieces of his life beside, seemed to disappear beneath rowoon’s skin. antonio had seen him transform on countless sets before, but never from this close. never with every subtle shift happening right in front of him. the confidence in his stride, the sharpness settling into his features, the unwavering certainty in his eyes. . . it all belonged to the character, yet antonio couldn’t stop noticing the tiny pieces that still belonged to jihoon. he knew the slight hitch in his breathing whenever he was forcing himself through something difficult. he knew him far too well, and somehow that made pretending not to know him infinitely much harder.

then jihoon stopped. the room seemed to shrink around the space separating them, and antonio found himself forgetting every carefully rehearsed line that was supposed to come next. all he could see was the complete absence of hesitation in front of him, even though he knew it had cost jihoon everything to stand there like that. the realization settled heavily in his chest. this wasn’t confidence, it was trust. jihoon had handed him the scene entirely, silently asking him to carry them across the one hurdle neither of them had been able to clear. antonio’s heartbeat became almost laughably loud in his own ears as he searched jihoon’s face, expecting to find some trace of the grin that always rescued them from awkward moments. it never came. instead, there was only quiet patience and unwavering eye contact. and for the first time all day, antonio stopped thinking about cameras, directors, blocked choreography. . . or whether marcus would kiss rowoon convincingly enough. he wasn’t looking at the script anymore, he wasn’t even thinking about it. all he could think about was how strange it felt that the person standing inches away from him was somehow the same man he’d known for years. . . yet suddenly looked entirely unfamiliar.

his breath left him in a slow exhale before something inside him finally unclenched. maybe this was what they’d been getting wrong from the very beginning. they had spent hours trying to manufacture chemistry when neither of them had trusted themselves enough to simply exist inside the moment. without another joke to hide behind, antonio lifted a hand, more instinct than choreography guiding the movement as his fingertips rested gently against jihoon’s jaw, searching his expression one last time before closing the remaining distance. the kiss itself was slow, yet careful, and almost hesitant in its sincerity. exactly as the script had intended marcus’ first act of defiance to be. but when he stepped back again after a long while, antonio couldn’t remember whether he’d kissed rowoon because marcus loved him. or whether somewhere between rehearsing lines and years of friendship, he’d forgotten where one story ended and the other began. he stared at jihoon in complete silence, his thoughts unraveling faster than he could gather them. before a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh escaped him. ❝ . . . well. ❞ he murmured, his voice noticeably softer than before, ❝ i don’t think our problem was a lack of chemistry after all. ❞

[bamf]

My dear Arthur,

You never showed up, and now, after looking at the newspapers I understand why. I don't imagine you will receive this letter but I nonetheless must send it. Arthur, oh, Arthur. I was just starting to dream the silliest and softest of dreams. I miss you, and I will always miss you but I cannot live like that, and it seems you cannot live any other way.

RED DEAD REDEMPTION II (2018) dev. Rockstar Games

[prettyundeadgirl]

RED DEAD REDEMPTION II ⋆ scenery (21/?) → Sunset at Lavender Fields

[gcholdtrops]

       lips  is  seen  pressing  together,  though  not  without  the,  seemingly  constant,  smile  of  contentment  remaining  at  the  corners,  head  bobbing  in  a  few  subtle  nods.   “ that  is  fair...  i  will  still,  however, ”   swiftly  takes  a  look  toward  her,  glint  of  warmth  shown  in  both  hues.   “ take  it  as  you  having  noticed  me,  even  with  that  factor  in  mind. ”   callum's  confidence  shined  through  in  most  moments,  the  type  of  person  twisting  things  into  something  positive  rather  than  negatively   ;   knowing  how  much  that  could  destroy  one's  gumption  to  move  forward  —-  being  the  captain  meant  having  to  pep-talk  his  team  members  whenever  they  had  a  wave  of  uncertainty  with  the  sport  or  personal  matters.  sides  of  being  part  of  a  group,  which  were  never  dispatched  to  the  public.  a  light  chuckle  then  emits,  looking  over  toward  her  and  finding  the  deed  of  feigned  shock  hilarious.   “ ouch,  okay—-  it's  not  easy  holding  up  that  surface  to  everybody,  but  at  the  end  of  the  day...  we're  not  just  force  and  muscle. ”   speaking  a  more  genuine  truth  then,  without  revealing  any  of  the  confidentiality  his  mates  had  trusted  him  with.   “ the  nutrients  of  protein  shakes  though...  definitely  also  up  there  ~ ”   looking  ahead  as  the  two  were  nearing  the  double  doors,  exiting  campus  area  and  callum  having  fully  ignored  any  looks  given  their  directions   ;   probably  too  used  to  pay  a  mind  to  them.

a  palm  pressed  to  the  door,  holding  it  agape  for  miremba  to  pass  through  before  himself,  following  suit  after  to  return  to  walk  by  her  side.   “  thank  you,  i  won't  go  on  a  ego-trip,  i'll  spare  you  today. ”   although  many  saw  him  as  somebody  who  got  there  with  ease,  it  wasn't  exactly  the  case  with  a  pressuring  father  who  was  one  of  the  best  in  his  sports  field.   “ what  i  actually  do  ?  hm, ”   a  heavier  intake  of  air  is  taken,  pondering  about  it  for  a  while  and  for  the  first  time,  he  finds  the  only  answer  is  rugby,  the  only  thing  he  truly  focuses  on  —-  only  hobby  or  sport  he  had  tried  out.   “ go  with  the  flow,  i  suppose...  i  don't  have  a  record  of  exploring  much  else  than  rugby,  and  the  tactics  surrounding  it. ”   small  chuckle,  mostly  in  a  disregarding  manner.   “ i've  never  really  thought  about  this  before,  i  will  admit. ”   head  doesn't  turn  but,  callum  does  side-glimpse  the  femme  next  to  him,  wondering  how  somebody  he  just  met,  somebody  who  were  supposed  to  be  ...  a  challenge  ...  made  his  brain  circulate  in  such  depth.   “ most  my  life  evolves  around  rugby,  my  father  was  also  the  captain  at  this  very  school  back  in  his  day. ”   spoken  with  pride  but,  listening  closely  there  was  that  tint  of  something  unsaid,  that  a  parent's  dream  was  pushed  down  through  generations   ;   not  much  choice  to  be  made.

“ but  seems  like  you're  gonna  shine  my  eyes  on  something  new,  more  mysterious  ~ ”   a  shoulder  bump  was  given,  though  gentle  enough  to  merely  be  a  brush  of  their  shoulders,  always  fast  in  turning  the  conversation  away  from  himself  when  it  got  a  little  too  serious  for  his  own  liking.  the  duo  made  it  out  of  the  campus  grounds  and  at  this  point  calum  just  needed  to  follow  her  lead,  so  he  kept  her  pace  while  taking  in  the  views  of  the  street  the  were  walking  down,  an  unfamiliar  area  to  his  knowledge.   “ what  is  your  dream  ?  or  more,  what's  the  ideal  future  that  you're  studying  so  hard  to  reach  ? ”   asking,  knowing  many  studied  just  because  that's  the  route  life  was  supposed  to  go,  but  miremba  gave  the  impression  of  having  everything  figured  out  —-  down  to  the  smallest  detail.

[dystincts]

miremba   found   herself   smiling   despite   the   fact   that   she   had   been   trying   to   maintain   her   usual   composure   around   him.   there   was   something   almost   frustrating   about   how   easily   callum   managed   to   turn   every   little   remark   into   something   charming,   like   he   had   a   way   of   making   even   the   simplest   observations   feel   like   compliments.   ❝   you   really   do   find   a   way   to   make   everything   work   in   your   favour,   don’t   you?   ❞   she   remarked,   amusement   evident   in   her   tone   as   she   glanced   over   at   him.   ❝   i   said   you   were   noticeable,   not   that   i   was   secretly   keeping   a   file   on   you.   there’s   a   difference.   ❞   she   listened   quietly   as   he   spoke   about   his   team,   her   expression   shifting   slightly   at   the   sincerity   behind   his   words.   it   was   easy   to   see   why   people   gravitated   toward   him.   beneath   the   confidence   and   teasing   remarks,   there   was   a   sense   of   responsibility   that   didn’t   quite   match   the   image   most   people   probably   had   of   him.   ❝   i   never   said   you   were   just   force   and   muscle.   ❞   she   pointed   out,   giving   him   a   small   look.   ❝   actually,   i   think   that’s   the   problem   with   most   people.   they   decide   who   someone   is   before   they   bother   asking.   ❞

her   attention   lingered   for   a   moment   when   he   mentioned   his   father,   catching   the   subtle   change   in   his   voice   despite   the   pride   attached   to   it.   miremba   had   always   been   someone   who   noticed   the   small   things.   the   pauses,   the   things   people   quickly   moved   past.   she   didn’t   push,   though.   not   yet.   instead,   she   allowed   the   silence   to   exist   for   a   moment   before   his   shoulder   brushed   against   hers,   the   playful   shift   pulling   a   softer   smile   from   her.   ❝   mysterious?   ❞   she   repeated,   raising   an   eyebrow.   ❝   that’s   a   very   dramatic   way   of   saying   i   spend   a   lot   of   time   studying.   ❞   as   they   continued   down   the   street,   she   looked   ahead,   considering   his   question   more   seriously   than   she   expected   to.   it   wasn’t   often   someone   asked   about   her   future   without   assuming   they   already   knew   the   answer.   ❝   i   think   i   want   to   do   something   that   actually   matters.   ❞   she   admitted   after   a   moment.   ❝   something   where   i   can   look   back   and   know   i   helped   people   somehow.   i’ve   always   been   interested   in   medicine,   research   especially.   there’s   something   fascinating   about   understanding   how   things   work   and   using   that   knowledge   to   fix   what   doesn’t.   ❞

she   glanced   toward   him   then,   a   small   smile   appearing.   ❝   i   know,   very   stereotypical   answer   from   someone   who   spends   too   much   time   with   textbooks.   ❞   a   quiet   laugh   escaped   her   before   she   continued.   ❝   but   i   don’t   think   i   have   everything   figured   out.   i   think   people   just   assume   that   because   i’m   organized.   having   a   plan   doesn’t   mean   you   know   exactly   where   you’re   going.   sometimes   it   just   means   you’re   trying   not   to   get   lost.   ❞   her   gaze   shifted   back   toward   him,   studying   him   for   a   moment   with   the   same   curiosity   he   had   shown   her.   ❝   but   i   think   it’s   interesting   that   you   said   you’ve   never   thought   about   anything   outside   of   rugby.   ❞   she   tilted   her   head   slightly.   ❝   do   you   actually   love   it   that   much,   or   have   you   just   never   been   given   the   chance   to   figure   out   what   else   you   might   like?   ❞   there   was   no   accusation   in   her   voice,   only   the   genuine   curiosity.   if   anything,   she   found   it   strange   how   someone   who   seemed   so   certain   of   himself   could   have   an   entire   part   of   himself   left   unexplored.

[sleepyokai]

Jihoon let out a rough snort, the sound rich with a self-deprecating amusement that he couldn't quite mask. He would love nothing more than to fire back with a grand defense of his own romantic capabilities, to prove he wasn't just some clueless idiot when it came to matters of the heart, but the glaring failure of his last relationship stood as a pretty damning contradiction to that claim. The brutal reality of the entertainment industry-------- where prioritizing a rising career, enduring impossible scheduling conflicts, and navigating the inevitable green-eyed monster of jealousy were standard practice---------- could easily tear even the deepest love apart at the seams. Time and time again, Jihoon had been the one to let his ex down, allowing his fierce professional ambition to completely overshadow the quiet needs of a real romance. So, fine, perhaps he wasn't exactly Prince Charming in real life, even if he possessed the exact symmetrical, striking facial features that made him look the part on a billboard. Yet, when he looked past his own shortcomings and thought about the overwhelming public reception to Rowoon and Marcus on screen, he felt a genuine jolt of pride. The audience reaction had been boisterous, passionate, and incredibly supportive, moving across all sorts of different sexual orientations to celebrate the genuine chemistry the two men were bringing to the screen. It was exactly because of this profound viewer investment that Jihoon knew he couldn't just coast on his looks or mindlessly go through the motions to get this pivotal kiss done. He had been absent from the romance genre for far too long, and a part of him was admittedly still sour from his own broken heart, but he constantly reminded himself that this was for the fans, specifically for the sheer, ecstatic joy he wanted to ignite when his character finally surrendered to his buried affections.

With a defeated huff, he finally relented, silently admitting that the roadblock might actually be his own doing. In the great detail of the script, Rowoon was supposed to be the driving force of the entire sequence, the confident man who actively provokes a true, undeniable physical passion, but that intensity simply wasn't translating when the two people in the room were entirely platonic friends who lacked even a single spark of genuine desire. "You're the one who's acting like a total board anyway," he argued back with stubborn, near-pout that entirely betrayed his stature as a fully grown, mature leading man. "It's honestly like trying to seduce a boring brick wall. Way to make an already weird situation ten times more awkward." He knew there had to be technical tricks that veteran actors and actresses employed to get through these exact moments, methods to manufacture a convincing heat when the cameras started rolling, but sitting here in the quiet of his leased estate, those industry secrets felt entirely out of reach. He tossed his script onto the cushion beside him, running a hand through his hair as frustration began to overtake his initial amusement. "I don't know how else to put it, it's just not... sexy. Rowoon and Marcus are supposed to have this combustible chemistry and pull, and right now, you're giving me the energy of stale bread. We have got to change up our approach or we're going to tank this entire episode."

His head rolled back against the top of the sofa, his eyes fixing steadily on the ceiling pattern as if the plaster might offer an unexpected stroke of creative genius, though deep down, he knew he was just avoiding the inevitable. He wasn't allowing himself to access that raw and sensual space either, largely because their real-life friendship had spanned so many years that the boundaries of mutual respect between them felt entirely solidified, like concrete walls he was terrified to breach. To look at Antonio through the lens of desire, and to press his hands against him with the intent of a lover, felt almost like a criminal offense against the brotherhood they had built. At long last, Jihoon shifted his position, his head turning sideways as his gaze settled onto Antonio with a newfound seriousness that banished the last of their playful bickering. "Let's try a complete role reversal for this, then. You be the one to kiss me first this time." It was a calculated gamble; if Jihoon couldn't properly carry the momentum of the scene because of his own deep-seated discomfort, he had a sneaking suspicion that Antonio was battling the exact same internal paralysis. If they were ever going to make this transition seamless, they needed to flip the script and shake up the storylines until they finally hit the exact frequency where their real-world comfort and their characters' scripted passion beautifully melded together.

[dystincts]

antonio opened his mouth with every intention of arguing back, only to stop when jihoon called him a board. for a second, he simply stared at him in complete disbelief. then came the offended look. then came the laugh. ❝ a board? ❞ he repeated, pointing a finger toward his own chest. ❝ that’s the insult we’re going with? ❞ his eyebrows shot upward. ❝ you spend twenty minutes staring at the same paragraph like it’s written in an unknown language, and somehow i’m the boring one? ❞ he shook his head, but the amusement faded surprisingly quickly. because beneath all the teasing, jihoon wasn’t entirely wrong. something wasn’t working. everyone could see the chemistry between rowoon and marcus. the directors saw it. the writers saw it. the fans definitely saw it. somehow the only two people struggling to find it were the men actually playing them. antonio leaned back into the couch, his gaze dropping toward the abandoned script beside him. he hated admitting it, but he’d been thinking about the exact same thing all afternoon. they were approaching the scene wrong. both of them were so busy trying not to make things weird that they were stripping away everything that made the moment feel real.

every glance became overanalyzed. every touch became awkward. every line was delivered with one foot already halfway out the door, like they were both trying to apologize for the scene before it even happened. the worst part was that he understood exactly why. because jihoon wasn’t some random costar he had met three months ago. he was jihoon. the person antonio called when something good happened. the person he called when something terrible happened. the person who somehow occupied such a permanent place in his life that antonio rarely stopped to think about it anymore. friendship had made everything effortless right up until the moment the script demanded something more complicated. his eyes lifted again as jihoon spoke, and for the first time since the conversation had started, antonio didn’t immediately joke his way out of it. ’ let’s try a complete role reversal for this, then. you be the one to kiss me first this time. ’ the words landed harder than they probably should have. antonio blinked, once and twice. all at once, he became acutely aware of the fact that jihoon was actually looking at him instead of laughing. there was no punchline waiting around the corner. no sarcastic remark, nor an easy escape route disguised as humour. just a genuine suggestion, and perhaps a solution.

his stomach did something strange. ❝ wow! ❞ he let out a slow breath through his nose before looking away briefly. ❝ okay. ❞ another pause. ❝ first of all, i hate that you might actually have a point. ❞ a crooked smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, though it lacked some of its usual confidence. ❝ second of all. . . i think you’re wrong about one thing. ❞ his fingers drummed lightly against his knee. ❝ this isn’t happening because there’s no chemistry. if there wasn’t chemistry, this would’ve been easy. we’d just show up, do the scene, and go home. ❞ the realization had been sitting quietly in the back of his mind for weeks now, never fully formed, never fully examined. speaking it aloud felt oddly dangerous. ❝ i think the problem is that we’re too aware of each other. ❞ his gaze found jihoon’s again. ❝ i know exactly what you’re thinking half the time. i know when you’re nervous before you even say anything. i know when you’re pretending to be confident. ❞ a small laugh escaped him. ❝ honestly, it’s kind of annoying! ❞ for a moment, antonio looked at him. . . and found himself thinking about all the years packed into their friendship. the countless conversations. the inside jokes nobody else understood. the way being around jihoon had become so normal that he’d stopped noticing it altogether. maybe that was the problem, or perhaps it was something else entirely. he wasn’t interested in pulling on that thread tonight. instead, he stood from the couch and grabbed the script from the table. ❝ alright hotshot! ❞ he pointed the pages toward him. ❝ if this completely destroys our dignity, i’m putting your name on the official incident report. ❞ the grin returned, though there was something noticeably more nervous underneath it now. ❝ but fine. we’ll try it your way! let’s see if swapping roles finally gets us past page three. ❞

[moonwrvttcn]

It was an evening bake day. Baking had been one of those few aspects of the kitchen he still did not feel quite as confident in, though he tried here and there to build those skills up. Baking was a bit more technical than he liked as someone who liked to just throw things together. The precision in quantities was important or else everything would go wrong. But it had its perks and a nice fudgey brownie to start off the evening was never a bad one in his book. The recipe he was referencing was from a friend from culinary school who had gone on to be a pastry chef.

The brownies had been a mix of their own grandmother's recipe and something he needed to pass for class. As well as being a college kid and liking a certain type of brownie.

Reyan had been in the middle of sifting some flour when the sound of knocking had pulled him from his focus. White dust flew everywhere- though most landed on his apron thankfully.

"Ah-? Coming!" He called out, looking for a towel to wipe himself down quickly as he made his way over to the door. Was he expecting guests? He couldn't remember inviting anyone over.

Dusty apron and all he opened the door expecting- not Clover?

"Clover?" Reyan blinked, slightly startled at seeing her. It wasn't unpleasant to see her, just unexpected. He opened his mouth to say more when he noticed the tightly clutched flowers and blinked yet again. "Those are... daisies?"

[dystincts]

clover  had  spent  the  entire  walk  rehearsing  what  she  was  going  to  say.  well,  that  wasn’t  entirely  true.  she  had  spent  the  first  half  of  the  walk  confidently  declaring  that  she  absolutely  knew  what  she  was  going  to  say,  only  to  immediately  forget  the  plan  every  few  minutes  and  start  over  again.  somewhere  between  the  restaurant  and  his  neighbourhood,  her  speech  had  evolved  from  a  heartfelt  confession  into  a  rambling  discussion  about  fate,  tulips,  and  why  reyan  apparently  had  ’  very  trustworthy  shoulders.  ’  her  coworkers  had  assured  her  this  was  all  completely  normal.

standing  on  his  doorstep  now,  however,  every  carefully  prepared  thought  abandoned  her  at  once.  ❝  reyan!  ❞  the  sight  of  him  filled  her  with  an  immediate,  almost  ridiculous  amount  of  excitement.  maybe  it  was  the  alcohol,  maybe  it  wasn’t.  clover  couldn’t  quite  tell  anymore.  her  smile  widened  the  moment  she  saw  him  standing  there  in  his  flour  covered  apron,  white  dust  scattered  across  the  front  of  it  and  even  lingering  near  his  sleeves.  for  a  second  she  simply  stared.

❝  you’re  baking.  ❞  it  wasn’t  a  question,  it  sounded  more  like  a  revelation.  her  gaze  slowly  traveled  from  the  apron  to  his  face  before  dropping  to  the  flowers  in  her  hand.  she  lifted  them  proudly.  ❝  these  aren’t  daisies.  ❞  a  moment  passed.  clover  squinted  down  at  them.  ❝  .  .  .  i  don’t  think  they’re  daisies.  ❞  another  pause.  ❝  they  might  be  tulips!  ❞  she  looked  genuinely  concerned  by  this  discovery  before  immediately  deciding  it  wasn’t  important.  with  all  the  confidence  of  someone  several  drinks  beyond  sober,  she  brought  the  flowers  toward  him.

❝  they’re  for  you!  ❞  behind  her,  somewhere  in  the  bushes,  came  the  very  distinct  sound  of  a  branch  snapping.  clover  ignored  it  completely.  ❝  i  saw  them  and  thought  about  you.  .  .  which  is  actually  happening  a  lot  lately.  ❞  the  words  left  her  mouth  before  her  brain  could  stop  them.  for  perhaps  the  first  time  all  evening,  she  froze.  very  slowly,  she  glanced  over  her  shoulder  toward  the  shrubbery.  several  poorly  hidden  silhouettes  immediately  ducked  lower.  clover  stared  at  them,  and  the  bushes  stared  back.  then  she  turned  back  toward  reyan  as  though  absolutely  nothing  unusual  had  happened.  ❝  anyway.  ❞  her  voice  was  suddenly  much  smaller.  ❝  hi!  ❞

[sleepyokai]

The issue was never the script itself. In fact, Jihoon felt an immediate, magnetic pull toward the lead character's trajectory, recognizing a rare depth in the man's emotional evolution that he genuinely wanted to bring to life. For years, his dedicated audience had been practically begging him to dive back into the romance genre, and this particular project felt like the perfect, resonant answer to those long-standing demands. What he had completely failed to anticipate, however-------- despite the obvious clues he really should have picked up on during the casting phases---------- was that his closest friend in the industry had also thrown his hat into the ring. Antonio hadn't just landed a part; he had been cast as the central love interest, the very person Jihoon's character was destined to pine after through a tumultuous, classic enemies-to-lovers narrative arc. In the beginning, the required onscreen friction had been an absolute breeze. Playing a pair of ridiculous, bickering idiots allowed them to channel a hilarious, heightened energy that was the exact polar opposite of their actual relationship. Off-camera, their bond was effortless and deeply rooted; they knew each other's families, shared quiet dinners, and routinely escaped on shared vacations whenever their hectic filming schedules allowed for a rare breather.

Buuuuut the honeymoon phase of easy comedic banter was officially drawing to a close... and the production was shifting gears into a much more demanding phase of storytelling. The directors were ready to crank up the underlying romantic tension, transitioning the characters from petty arguments into a space defined by heavily concentrated glances at each other's lips, unexpected physical proximity, and a general influx of affection from Jihoon's otherwise standoffish character, Rowoon. This sudden shift in dynamic was precisely where a wave of profound awkwardness began to breach their usual comfort zone, manifesting in suddenly uncontrollable bursts of laughter. It wasn't a matter of attraction; anyone with eyes could see that Antonio was an exceptionally good-looking person, but Jihoon had simply never looked at him through a romantic lens, and he was entirely certain the sentiment was strictly mutual. Compounding the professional stress was a heavy undercurrent of public scrutiny, as the entire fandom was still openly grieving the messy demise of Jihoon's last real-world relationship. His supporters mourned his heartbreak just as deeply as he did, stubbornly holding onto the fantasy that he would eventually reconcile with the woman they all deemed his absolute perfect match. Jihoon, meanwhile, was still privately wrestling with the uncomfortable realization that perhaps such a flawless ideal simply did not exist.

"Come on, we really have to get serious now," Jihoon pleaded, a wide, bright grin breaking across his face as he tried and failed to restore a sense of professional decorum to the room. They were currently holed up in the sprawling country estate that Jihoon had leased for the duration of the long-term shoot, surrounded by stacks of high-lighted scripts and half-empty coffee mugs. They had been sitting there for hours and had barely managed to clear three full pages of dialogue, constantly finding ways to distract themselves or deliberately stalling before they reached the specific cue where Rowoon was supposed to gently run his thumb across Antonio's lower lip. Every single time they rehearsed the blocking, Jihoon would lose his composure entirely, his carefully cultivated image of a mature, stoic leading man crumbling into helpless amusement within seconds. He gave his script a firm tap against his knee, attempting to project an authority he didn't currently possess. "How on earth are we supposed to shoot the big first kiss sequence on set tomorrow if you can't manage to keep it together?" He phrased it as a challenge to his friend, though in truth, it was a collective failure; neither of them seemed remotely equipped to handle the shift from best friends to fated lovers.

@dystincts

[dystincts]

antonio’s laughter arrived before any actual response did, spilling out of him in a helpless burst as he dropped his forehead into one hand. they had been trying to rehearse this stupid scene for hours, and somehow jihoon still had the nerve to act as though antonio was solely responsible for the disaster unfolding in front of them. ❝ oh, that’s rich! ❞ he managed between laughs, shaking his head. ❝ that’s actually unbelievable!! ❞ he finally looked up, pointing his script directly at him. ❝ you’ve spent the entire day losing your mind every time we get within three feet of each other, and somehow i’m the problem? ❞ the accusation would’ve landed better if he wasn’t still grinning. every attempt at professionalism seemed to evaporate the second they reached the romantic scenes. arguments, insults, rivalry. . . they could do those perfectly. but the second rowoon was supposed to look at marcus like he actually wanted him, both of them folded immediately.

the problem, unfortunately. . . was jihoon. not in the way he meant it, but in the way he always seemed to be. antonio had worked with attractive people before. he’d kissed costars before. he’d played love interests before. none of that was new. jihoon wasn’t even making him nervous. if anything, he was the exact opposite. he was familiar, comfortable, and predictable. antonio knew the look on his face before he made a joke. he knew which restaurants he secretly hated and which songs he’d pretend not to know before singing every lyric anyway. he knew the sound of his laugh, the cadence of his voice when he was tired, the specific expression he made whenever he thought he’d won an argument. somewhere along the way, jihoon had become so deeply woven into the fabric of his life that separating ’ jihoon ’ from ’ best friend ’ felt nearly impossible. ❝ i think that’s what’s wrong with this whole thing. ❞ he admitted, tossing the script onto the table. ❝ everybody else sees two characters falling in love. meanwhile i’ve got years of evidence that you’re an idiot. ❞

another laugh escaped him before his expression softened. tomorrow, they were supposed to sell one of the biggest romantic turning points in the entire series. fans would eat it up. editors would add music beneath it. people online would probably spend months talking about their chemistry. yet sitting here now, antonio couldn’t understand why something so simple felt so complicated. his eyes drifted toward jihoon again, lingering there for a moment. ❝ seriously. . . ❞ he said, quieter this time. ❝ how am i supposed to look at you like marcus is in love with rowoon? ❞ a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. ❝ i’m being set up to fail here! ❞ he nudged jihoon’s leg with his foot before leaning back against the couch. ❝ and when tomorrow goes horribly wrong, i’m telling everyone this was your fault. i want that established before we continue. ❞

[sungifs]

✶⠀⠀──⠀⠀by clicking on the source link, you will find an additional #163 gifs of tamino in interviews, bringing the current count to #223 gifs. each gif was created by me from scratch, so please respect my work and do not redistribute the content elsewhere or claim it as your own. feel free to edit for personal use. a like or reblog would be greatly appreciated !

[y-eowang]

One Piece Cast x Teen Vogue

[dystincts]

not gonna lie i kinda missed writing </3

[gcholdtrops]

       despite  their  short  time  of  interacting,  callum  was  already  finding  enjoyment  in  how  she'd  play  into  his  words,  keep  him  guessing  and  making  his  own  opinion.  it  was  different,  intriguing  and  somehow  strangely  appealing  to  male.   “  so,  what  you're  saying  is...  you've  been  secretly  paying  attention  to  my  patterns  ?  ”   a  cockier  tone  laced  in  his  speech,  spoken  as  the  two  of  them  started  the  journey  to  wherever  miremba  chose  —-  callum  in  for  the  ride,  whether  it  would  be  a  rollercoaster  or  the  boats.  hands  were  nested  inside  front  pockets,  stance  being  one  displaying  complete  relaxation,  like  male  didn't  have  a  single  care  in  the  world   ;   always  the  type  to  live  life  as  casual  as  it  could  get,  dealing  with  consequences  when,  and  if,  they  appeared.   “  if  i  have  to  be  selfish,  i'd  prefer  weak  coffee  and  bad  pastries,  because  then  at  least  we  can  continue...  getting  to  know  one  another,  which  evens  it  out  quite  perfectly.  ”   revealing  his  true  intention  of  approaching  her,  surely  there  was  the  bet  carved  into  the  back  of  his  mind  but,  the  mysterious  side  she  seemed  to  keep,  made  him  slowly  numb  it  out  and  just  focus  on  a  slower  tactic  was  needed  with  her.  miremba  already  proving  to  be  much  different  than  most  girls  at  this  college,  for  the  better  too,  if  callum  were  to  judge.

“  you  know,  i  actually  read...  articles  but,  it's  still  counting  something,  no  ?  ”   soft  chuckle,  knowing  the  amount  of  words  would  never  compare  to  that  of  a  novel,  not  at  all  minding  how  slow  the  two  of  them  were  wandering  down  the  hallway,  several  of  co-students  passing  by  them  and  greeting  him   ;   congratulating  him  on  the  win  the  saturday  prior  and  he  merely  thanked  them  while  keeping  main  attention  on  her.  “  have  you  ever  watched  one  of  our  games  ?  or  is  that  not  really  your  scene  ?  ”  a  bit  of  back-and-forth,  genuine  curiosity  in  both  male's  voice  and  eyes  as  he's  turning  to  look  at  her.

[dystincts]

miremba   rolled   her   eyes   the   moment   she   caught   the   shift   in   his   tone,   that   familiar   confidence   creeping   back   into   his   words   as   he   twisted   her   observation   into   something   entirely   different.   ❝   that's   a   very   generous   interpretation   of   what   i   said.   ❞   she   replied   dryly,   though   the   faint   smile   threatening   the   corners   of   her   mouth   ruined   any   attempt   at   sounding   completely   unimpressed.   ❝   noticing   someone's   patterns   isn't   the   same   as   secretly   studying   them,   callum.   some   people   are   just.   .   .   louder   than   others.   your   patterns   happen   to   announce   themselves   before   they   arrive.   ❞   she   continued   down   the   hallway,   weaving   around   passing   students   with   an   ease   that   suggested   she   was   far   more   comfortable   being   unnoticed   than   being   the   center   of   attention.   unfortunately   for   her,   walking   beside   the   rugby   captain   seemed   to   attract   enough   attention   for   the   both   of   them.   a   few   curious   glances   followed   in   their   wake,   something   she   pretended   not   to   notice.

his   admission   earned   him   a   sidelong   glance.   ❝   articles?   wow.   ❞   her   hand   pressed   dramatically   against   her   chest.   ❝   and   here   i   was   assuming   all   rugby   players   communicated   exclusively   through   game   statistics   and   protein   shake   labels.   ❞   the   teasing   lingered   only   briefly   before   softening   into   genuine   amusement.   ❝   i   suppose   that   counts   as   reading.   technically.   ❞   at   the   mention   of   the   games,   her   gaze   drifted   ahead   for   a   moment.   ❝   i've   watched   a   few.   ❞   the   answer   came   surprisingly   easy.   ❝   not   all   of   them.   just   the   ones   that   were   hard   to   avoid   when   half   the   campus   was   talking   about   them   for   a   week   afterward.   ❞   she   glanced   over   at   him   then,   studying   him   with   the   same   thoughtful   look   she'd   worn   since   he'd   first   stopped   her   at   the   door.

❝   you're   good,   by   the   way.   before   your   ego   inflates   any   further,   that's   not   a   compliment!   it's   an   observation.   ❞   the   corner   of   her   mouth   lifted   again.   ❝   but   no,   it   isn't   really   my   scene.   i   don't   mind   sports.   i   just   prefer   things   where   people   don't   risk   concussions   for   entertainment.   ❞   her   gaze   flickered   briefly   toward   him,   curiosity   surfacing   despite   herself.   ❝   what   about   you?   when   you're   not   being   congratulated   every   ten   steps,   what   do   you   actually   do?   because   so   far   i've   learned   you're   the   captain   of   the   rugby   team,   you   read   articles,   and   apparently   you're   willing   to   gamble   your   afternoon   on   weak   coffee   and   terrible   pastries.   that's   not   exactly   a   complete   picture.   ❞