moonlight sonata

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ㅡ ⭐️ for a headcanon about our muses.

Even though the both of them had a small bit of tension relating to this particular activity, there’s some hope that they still go stargazing or cloud watching together in spite of it. They run in similar circles, but Jonathan is still, at times, shy to speak to her. Those activities could be their catch up time.

ㅡ 👋 for three things that describe our muses relationship.

FIRST. Stargazing. An event between the two in silence, the occasional whisper about what one spots in the sky and the other does not. Intimate, comfortable silence laced with memories filled with fondness and a sliver of regret.

SECOND. A cup of hot chocolate. Warm, welcoming, comforting when the air around them is far too cold and harsh. They understand the sweet taste. It’s a friend that comes along when needed most, or not at all.

THIRD. Knitwear. A love for it is mutual, both seen wearing it often. Sleeves pulled over knuckles amidst short conversations and exchanges. Perhaps too short lived for their liking, but the seasons for sweaters will always come back.

ㅡ 👂 to overhear my muse talking about yours.

It wasn’t characteristic of Jonathan to enlist the help of others when it came to flowers. There was an expectation held over him that he knew well enough to make a well-informed decision. This instance, however, required a second opinion. Specifically from the elderly florist staring expectantly across the counter at him. “Oh, this is for a good friend of mine. I guess you could call her a living ray of sunshine. Do you think that tulips would suit her, or maybe a bundle of daisies? I want something perfect.”

ㅡ ✉ for a written letter from my muse.

The letter is attached to a single sunflower. 

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ㅡ 👀 for my muse to compliment yours

“Forgive me if this is something odd to say, Vincent, but… You have very captivating eyes. It’s hard to describe, but it’s special. Maybe all people with leglimency share it?”

ㅡ 👂 to overhear my muse talking about yours.

Vincent Koh fascinated Jonathan. No ㅡ fascinated remained an understatement. He looked upon the older in the same way he examined an unknown plant. Perhaps it was wrong to view another human in such a way, but the scientific corner of Jonathan’s brain found questions ever present around the Slytherin. One was answered, two more took its place. The air of mystery surrounding him was fabricated on his own. He was unsure if it actually held true. People were often misunderstood on surface. Jonathan had barely scratched it, but he felt he knew well enough.

“I don’t think he is cold, per se… It can be very easy not understand someone if you’re not used to them and their personality, but… have you thought that Vincent may not want to get to know you?” Merely an assumption, but it was one he personally felt was accurate. Perhaps he needed to get to know him better, too, to be certain.

ㅡ 📖 for my muse to read out an entry in their journal/diary about yours.

“I met an older boy by the name of Vincent today! He was very refined and polite. The perfect picture of how a Pureblood son should be, my father told me. I can’t help but find myself a bit envious of the traits he possesses. He is tall and good looking as well, attracting a lot of eyes. He was sort of nice though, even a bit quiet like me. He seemed to like me, too, I think! He said he also attends Hogwarts so I hope to speak to him in the halls someday when I build up the courage.”

ㅡ ⭐️ for a headcanon about our muses.

Gorgeous and elegant, the betraying flower;                            A dahlia that looks like someone I know.

Oneself is said to be the worst of one's enemies. Whether or not the rumor rang true was up to the individual. They were to throw their doubts away to venture into a fog-ridden meadow, pick a precious flower. Those inclined towards plants and all things daring held a glint of determination in their eyes. The recklessness of youth was as fleeting as the flower they sought was rare. Many remained hesitant; others, steadfast temptation of facing themselves would not overcome them.

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ㅡ👂 to overhear my muse talking about yours.

"Do I know Shiro...?” The Hufflepuff shook his head prior to a thoughtful glance in the opposite direction. The aforementioned older student had been one seen around his loved one who just so happened to be on the same Quidditch team. Flying through the skies alone, Shiro seemed an intimidating sort with an unwavering gaze. “Um, no I don’t think that I’ve really met him before, sorry... But I do know that he’s in Slytherin... and the caption of the Quidditch team. I think that he seems like a nice person.” A nervous laugh. No he was not. “Why are you asking? Are you looking for him?”

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ㅡ ☎ for your muse’s info in my muses phone (name, ringtone, picture, last text received/sent).

NAME: Peter ParkRINGTONE: Default ringtonePICTURE: A cute picture of Peter he took on a night out with the kids/parents and edited with hearts for extra cuteness.LAST TEXT SENT: ✉ ㅡ Hello, Peter! Do you, by chance, know where Cecil is? Preston and I seem to have lost sight of him.

ㅡ📱for a voicemail my muse left yours.

"Peter, it’s Jonathan! I was just wondering in case you didn’t get my message... do you have a sweet tooth at all? I haven’t managed to find anyone around to help finish off the extra cookies I made and I figured you might like them! Okay, bye!”

ㅡ 👂 to overhear my muse talking about yours.

“Well, I don’t know about that...” Jonathan huffed out an awkward chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck in tandem. “Peter might be loud and talkative, but I think that he’s a good kid!” Any close friend of Cecil’s was someone he found trustworthy and pure of heart, no matter how loquacious they were. From time to time, even he had to stuff fingers in his ears to muffle the Gryffindor’s screeching, but he would still defend him until his last breath. “Maybe when he’s tired he’s a lot calmer! You should give him a chance.”

@crkarina

There was a common misconception among many that Herbology teetered on the edge of uninteresting. Too safe, even. It had none of the unpredictability or obvious dangers of an auror’s path. Nor did it have a place in the grandiose halls of the Ministry of Magic. Jonathan became one of the few to willingly choose a life of soil stained knees and muddied hands. He relished in the peace it brought him. It was, in fact, the very reason why he tended meticulously to the plants even when not required to. 

He also took great pleasure in teaching students struggling with the subject their way around the greenhouses. One Karina Jeon was one of them. Fortunately enough, he was already well acquainted enough with her cousin to find comfort in her presence. Endearing was a quality seemingly passed around as equally as sunny smiles were.

“I just need some help watering and trimming away dead leaves. I know the gloves are a bit itchy, but make sure that you keep them on at all times. Sometimes the plants in here bite...”

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ㅡ ⭐️ for a headcanon about our muses.

Jonathan’s perception of Lianna is one that may or may not surprise her. Sometimes he may come across as passive or confused by her personality, but he finds her an interesting person and really would enjoy getting to know her more on a level deeper than her jokingly referring to him as one of her many husbands.

ㅡ ✉ for a written letter from my muse.

Lianna,I was unable to reach you by phone, so I’m sending you this letter since it’s very important! If you could please return the jacket you borrowed from me a while ago, I would greatly appreciate it. Thank you!Jonathan.

ㅡ ✔️ for a daydream my muse has had about/involving yours.

He was unsure when it began -- the low humming of the wedding march inside his own head. Sometimes the confines of his mind were vastly more entertaining than an astronomy lesson. The room began to twist and turn into a chapel, before him was Lianna Do, smiling up at him from behind a wedding veil. ‘Well, what do you think about becoming my real husband, Johnny boy?’

That was the instant Jonathan’s eyes snapped open. “What in the world...” Fortunately, it had only been a daydream. More like a nightmare.

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ㅡ  👋 for three things that describe our muses relationship.

FIRST. The dissolving of the winter’s last snow, sprouts of grass penetrating the white to reveal its vibrancy. A flower grows among it. A red one. It’s cold, but it thrives in its isolated patch.

SECOND. A now lukewarm cup of tea abandoned for conversation, saturated with sugar cubes. In the end, it hardly matters. The company makes it taste all the better.

THIRD. The warmth of the color gold that embellishes their collar. Familiar, welcoming. It reminds him of home and where he belongs, and the smiles she wears above it make it all the more so. There is comfort in her presence.

ㅡ 👂 to overhear my muse talking about yours.

"I’m just not entirely sure when it comes to things like this. You never know if someone will secretly dislike it anyway...” He raised the small gift bag to eye level, examining its contents hidden within the soft tufts of tissue paper. Pink and gaudy -- the opposite of what came to mind when he thought of his classmate. It was an awfully elaborate wrapping just for a simple bottle of nail polish. “Do you think that she’ll like it?”

“Cecil!” Equally bright eyes met with the younger lad’s. There was a clear attempt to match his enthusiasm; however, jet lag still had its claws firmly burrowed into him. His words emerged drowsy, albeit laced with jubilation. Only few could bring him from the brink so quickly. Cecil was one of them. "Really, there were penguins? You should show me where they are so I know where to go. Maybe we can take a picture of you with one? Though... I hope they don't bite."

ㅡ INSIDE JONATHAN’S OWLPHONE