#☆ i’ve always been a one soul at a time kind of guy ➵ muse bios

[stingslikeabee]

happy new year and 2022′s follow forever!

I feel I say this every year - but 2022 was the most challenging year for me thus far. From living entirely by myself in a foreign country while studying my ass off to surviving the most critical election that my country has faced since our (very young) re-democratization - it has been a lot. It has been exhausting, daunting and frightening for a myriad of reasons and yet this place (and you guys) have helped me survive it all.

New fandoms, new muses, new connections - 2022 introduced me to some lovely mutuals who have been more than roleplay partners; it solidified older friendships, as well! I couldn’t possibly go on and head into the new year without acknowledging some very special souls who made all the difference during these last months and to whom I credit part of my success of writing this with a smile on my face. :)

@sixthxchairman: YOU. YOU AMAZING HUMAN. I have no words to explain how much I love you and the immensely positive impact you’ve had on my life, Dawn. This time, last year, I was already in awe at how much I had grown to love and care for Daigo and all our plotting; one year later and we have a MULTIVERSE. You are responsible for rekindling my passion for a franchise to the point of picking up Akiyama, you have been the one person I couldn’t go a day without dropping by to say hello, you’ve kept me company during bleak hours and complicated times of my life and all I can say is a huge ‘thank you’. I love the fanart we commissioned, the gifts we exchanged, the movie night experience! It feels like I’ve known you forever and I cannot wait until we finally meet and fangirl in person. <3 Honestly, you’re incredible and I’m grateful for having you every day! A day without my daily Down dose (wohoo alliteration!) is not a happy one.

@cwarscars: Han, my love, the owner of the sexiest voice ever, the best doggo groomer in all of the UK - I am so happy to see you writing for my favorite villain of the FFVII franchise but also for being who you are. You just are so incredible kind, always willing to give everyone a chance and such a blessed brain with all these delightful ideas and well-rounded portrayals that I could go on for hours about. I am thrilled to remain your friend after 3 years, and it feels symbolic that we have returned to Heidegger and Melissa at the closing of 2022 since this is where it all started! I’ll never be able to thank you enough for all the love and support for my OC when she was still a FFVII side piece and giving her space to shine. You rock!

@5judgements: Chelsea - you have given me the GIFT of writing Melissa in one of my favorite verses, as well as allowing me to fully flesh her FFXII persona and build upon the lore of my favorite FF entry. I will never be over the fact you made me soft for all judge magisters (BUT BERGAN, NOT YOU BERGAN) and how much we’ve picked this game apart to make it our own. It’s been an incredible experience and you’re such a talented, amazing writer! I am constantly in awe of everything you do and making grabby hands at your other muses (even if they are not heavily armored, haha) because you are so compelling when writing them. I am very proud to know that my legacy to you is being remembered whenever Shakira’s ‘Hips Don’t Lie’ come on the radio. :D

@kansaisdragon: Atlas, sweetheart - please know I’ll forever cherish the fact we’ll be both going broke over Akiyama together; it’s fun to make bad decisions in good company! :D But also - I am so immensely grateful for the time, interest and incredible writing you have given me during these last months. You have singlehandedly transformed my opinion on Ryuji, amused me with your own take on Akiyama, then watched me struggle with Kuwana and swing like a pendulum where my thoughts about him are concerned. I’m also in awe of how clearly you get their voices - and I’m always happy to see you around. I hope there’s much more for us in 2023!

@iosonostanco: GABE, WE DID IT. WE FINALLY MET EACH OTHER. To think a mere DM over tumblr from 2016 would get us to actually see each other and have real life adventures! I’ll never be able to thank you enough for being such a great friend - online and offline, for all these years. I’m so grateful for all the memories we made and to have your bastard, little shithead of a son back (and I mean this VERY lovingly). It’s easy to forget we met through roleplay given everything we’ve done and talked about - just know that I appreciate you immensely and I hope I can return the gracious hosting you’ve offered me in France one day! :D

@svnsworn: Liiiiiight - you know, I feel I don’t say this very often, but you are incredible. You have always been a consistent source of talent and positivity in the dash, with a jaw-dropping range and always so welcoming and friendly towards every new fandom or experience. I am so happy we have never lost sight of each other since we found each other on the FFVII fandom and I’m incredibly excited to dive head first into the PtN addiction with you. :D I love you lots, you’re in my inner circle of precious moots and I know you say we’re all rockstars but you know what? I play the reverse card on this and call myself your dedicated groupie! :3 I’ll always follow you and your children, no matter how different our fandoms are - you just shine all the way.

@exboost & @healthkits: I’m tagging both these blogs because I want you to read this, Lance - BECAUSE YOU ARE AWESOME. From the first day we really got to talking thanks to my Judgment ramblings, you have been nothing but this super welcoming and cheerful person and listen - I can talk so much and so fast and to have someone not being intimidated by my words-per-minute average is a blessing. I love reading about your takes and opinions and I’m forever screaming at the fact you have welcomed my girl (and Akiyama!) with such open arms into your children’s lives. Besides - I love how we just click, culturally wise. We definitely are close siblings (or cousins) and I love to see it, really!

@gbrnth: Linda! I’ll say that first of all, I’m happy you found your way back here and that we got to trade discords because it’s been so good to chat and watch our kids make bad decisions! It’s like a trainwreck - but of the good kind. I love FFXII immensely and to have been accepted by you & your son with Melissa being her infuriating little self was so good and is so fun! I love that we got to write again and I’m sincerely hoping our work/professional endeavors never fully remove the time to indulge in this hobby of ours. Have a lovely 2023!

@marie-dufresne: Frenchie, I wanted to include you here and give you a shout out because... Girl, you’re such an inspiration. I know we took ages to follow each other but gosh I love how excited you are about Marie, how incredibly talented you are with your hobbies and to know I just have you & Marie as some sort of sister figure to myself & Melissa where allowing our daughters questionable taste in men is concerned (alas, irl you are VASTLY superior to me haha I wish I had your aptitude for so many artistic endeavors!). I have enjoyed reading about Marie and knowing more about her a ton, and I really hope to see more (as chaotic as things can be on your personal side of things with the new kid and everything). I hope you have a great 2023!

@famuran: Cadewyn, my beloved - please know that I’m eternally grateful for all the support you have offered me offline this year. I think very few people have been so outspoken and firmly congratulated me for leaving my country behind and embracing a life-changing move (literally!). You have cheered me up and encouraged me when I faltered and this is so precious to me. And of course - your son will never not be my favorite sky pirate. I’m always happy to see you gracing the dash with your talent and I hope you continue to do so in 2023! :3

@shinrasfirst: You know, Min - maybe I wouldn’t have met the deadline for the applications of my masters if it hadn’t been for you. XD For this - and all the lovely capybara shitposting and mutual support offered in this year, I THANK YOU. You are always a bright, kind and funny presence in my life and I hope it never changes. I’m also determined! To make it! To Viennna! WE ARE SO CLOSE (I mean not right now, but back in February we’ll shift to the same time zone again), I can’t let this chance escape. ;--; No matter where you go fandom wise, I’m sure you’ll rock it. You are epic. YOU ARE INCREDIBLE.

@ivory-paragon: After all these years and you did it. I might have lost your stuff for six months but you did it, you MADE ME SHIP THIS, JAMES. And with a very suitable creepy plot to explain everything and to use as the backdrop to my one-sided novels. ALL JOKES ASIDE - thank you for the good memories and joint plotting this year! :D You’ll never be free of me surging uninvited in your DMs, sir. As a fellow lawyer person, I know things are crazy and busy and I appreciate all the good vibes and positive thoughts you’ve sent my way with my move and everything - I’m hoping you’ll always have success (here and off tumblr, of course!).

@holyguardian & @rebelichor: Muddy, I just wanted to give your girls a shout out (as well as yourself!) because it’s always so good to read you having fun. I know we don’t always interact (but I’m getting there - I AM MAKING A DECENT VERSE OUTLINE FOR ARI) but I just love to see how much passion you have for these two, the range you can get while keeping them so true to their natures and just your overall happy self around. Real life can be hard, but you’ve always bounced back and I just feel that a dash with Muddy is a better dash. It feels like home to have you writing and creating next door, my follow Southern hemisphere friend. May 2023 treat you better! <3

[the-letter-horror-lover]

Halloween is a Month-Long Event

23Murasaki

Summary:

It's the middle of October, Lizzie and Soma are planning a Halloween party, and the servants of Phantomhive Manor try to get into the spirit of things. Everything is about to go pear-shaped. Just not quite yet.

Work Text:

“Well,” said Lady Elizabeth, holding court in the young master’s drawing room, “It’s traditional, isn’t it?”

“Is it? It sounds like a silly superstition,” replied Prince Soma, who certainly only believed in not-silly superstitions. “Does it work?”

“I don’t know!” huffed Lady Elizabeth. “I’ve never tried.”

“Huh,” said the prince. “We should try!”

“Okay!” chirped Lady Elizabeth brightly. “You need to help me set it up though!”

“But of course!” replied Prince Soma, jumping to his feet. “We will participate whole-heartedly!”

Perhaps it was the time of the year, but any observer of the Phantomhive manor could have sworn that the building itself gave a shudder of horror at the thought of their partnership.

-------

“Soul cakes,” said the demon to himself as he examined the contents of the pantry. “It could be amusing.”

He swept the ingredients together with his usual ease of motion, a faint smirk on his face. Soul cakes for the damned of the house. And the not-damned, he supposed, because he couldn’t deny them without raising some sort of suspicions.

“It is a strange name,” mused his friend, eyeing the cookbook curiously. “Do you know why they are called that?”

“They’re supposed to be alms for the dead,” said the demon. “Though the dead cannot eat them, of course.”

“Well, we should bake them with fond memories,” said his friend with a smile.

“I suppose,” said the demon. “Fond memories and affection.”

--------

“It’s supposed to show your true love!” giggled Paula, clapping her hands. Meirin gasped.

“Really?!” A part of her thought that true love was utter nonsense, but the part that very much wanted to live happily ever after with a handsome guy was much stronger.

“W-well, I’ve never tried before,” Paula admitted. “I’ve always been scared to! What if I see a ghost?!”

“Oh!” Meirin gasped again and grinned. “That would be great, it would! Maybe we can have a seance sometime!”

“D-do you think anyone here’s a medium, though?” asked Paula doubtfully. Meirin pondered this for a moment.

“Well, if anyone would know, it’d be Mr. Sebastian or Mr. Agni, it would!” she declared. Paula blushed and mumbled something about mirrors. Meirin laughed.

“I’d be jealous of you, I would!” she said, though she had her doubt that Mr. Agni or Mr. Sebastian would show up in anyone’s mirrors at all. Well, young women were supposed to have faith in miracles.

--------

“Filthy pagan rituals,” grumbled the angel as he scowled at the row of carved pumpkins that greeted him at the back door of the manor.

“Mr. Ash!” yelled the eternally cheery gardener, waving the hand not holding a rake. “Do you like the decorations?”

“... They’re very seasonal,” he admitted. The boy laughed happily.

“Bard and I carved them!” he said. “Though... Mr. Sebastian had to show us how...”

“How very kind of him,” muttered the angel.

“I know, right?” Finny chirped. “I bet they’ll scare off any monsters and ghosts!” The angel sighed. There really wasn’t much he could do with this.

“... I’m sure they will,” he said, and turned away. A moment later, he felt someone tug on his coat sleeve. Finny smiled hugely up at him, another carved pumpkin held carefully in his clumsy hands.

“This one’s for you, okay? We tried to make it less creepy!” It was marginally less creepy, admittedly. The angel hesitated, them smiled back at him. It was a gift with pure intentions, at least.

“... Really? ... Thank you very much...”

Series this work belongs to:

← Previous Work Part 8 of Everyone Lives! Next Work →

[loveforsaken-a]

ragnor fell

main verse // a mix of show, headcanon and the bane chronicles based. timeline is show based, but altered so that he faked his own death.

disclaimer: all information provided is for main verse; may vary depending on verse

alt. verses:

-harry potter  

-star wars  

-high school  

-marvel  

-prince

BASIC INFORMATION

full name // ragnor fell (born iktan) nicknames or aliases or titles // rags, high warlock of london (former) age and birthday // 1752 , October 21st, 265. home // unknown location in Guatemala, where the Mayan Civilization used to exist. current location // probably bothering Magnus Bane pronouns and gender  // he/him ; demiboy occupation // bothering the immortal gang, being a general nuisance language(s) spoken // spanish,  K’iche’ , english, latin, french, german, javaenese, hindi, arabic and probably others. accent // an odd sort of queen’s english, odd because although he’s spent quite a bit of time in england (specifically rubbing elbows with the finest), there’s still a multitude of layers underneath that are distinctly not the same accent.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

faceclaim // oscar issac hair colour // black ; white when unglamored eye colour // dark brown height // 5′9 build // muscular but not overtly beefy distinguishing features // green skin, white hair, horns

ADDITIONAL CHARACTERISTICS

physical conditions // battle scars, knick around left horn where someone tried to steal his mark neurological conditions // borderline personality disorder, ptsd sleeping habits // either sleeps for an extended period of time, or doesn’t sleep at all and there’s no in between eating habits // omnivore ; probably one of the most picky people you’ll meet exercise habits // works out when he wants to put effort in emotional stability // that’s fuckin’ hilarious sociability // can be extremely social and charming, but can also have issues with people. it depends on his mood.

FAMILY

parent(s)// n/a sibling(s) // an unnamed little sister significant other(s) // still harboring some feelings for two of his specific immortal friends child(ren) // n/a

SOCIAL STATUS

financial //  WEALTHY / moderate / poor / in poverty medical // FIT / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged class or caste //  UPPER / middle / working / slave / unsure education //  QUALIFIED / unqualified / studying

BELIEFS

general // formerly polytheist, mildly agnostic belief in ghosts or spirits // YES / no / don’t know / don’t care. belief in an afterlife //  yes / no / DON’T KNOW / don’t care. belief in reincarnation //  yes / no / DON’T KNOW / don’t care. belief in aliens // YES / no / don’t know / don’t care. belief in karma //  yes / NO / don’t know / don’t care. religious //  orthodox / liberal / in between / NOT RELIGIOUS.

PERSONALITY

mbti // entp hogwarts house // gryffindor moral alignment // true neutral

ROMANTIC / SEXUAL INCLINATIONS

romantic orientation// greyaromantic sexual orientation // pansexual polyamorous or monogamous //  depends on who he’s with

PREFERENTIAL TENDENCIES

extroverted / introverted / IN BETWEEN disorganized / organized / IN BETWEEN close minded / open-minded / IN BETWEEN calm / anxious / IN BETWEEN disagreeable / agreeable / IN BETWEEN cautious / reckless / IN BETWEEN patient / IMPATIENT / in between OUTSPOKEN / reserved / in between leader / follower / IN BETWEEN empathetic / unemphatic / IN BETWEEN optimistic / PESSIMISTIC / in between traditional / MODERN / in between hard-working / lazy / IN BETWEEN CULTURED / un-cultured / in between / unknown LOYAL / disloyal / unknown faithful / unfaithful / UNKNOWN

VICES

drinking alcohol //  never / sometimes / frequently / TO EXCESS. smoking //  never / SOMETIMES / frequently / to excess. other narcotics //  NEVER / sometimes / frequently / to excess. indulgent food //  never / sometimes / frequently / TO EXCESS. splurge spending // never / sometimes / FREQUENTLY / to excess. gambling //  never / SOMETIMES / frequently / to excess. violence //  never / SOMETIMES / frequently / to excess.

[ofmenandangelsa]

ahkmenrah

main verse // show based with heavy headcanon influence.

disclaimer: all information provided is for main verse; may vary depending on verse.

BASIC INFORMATION

full name // Ahkmenrah Masuda Khonsuraque nicknames or aliases or titles // ahk age and birthday //  ~4000, (physically 17)  ; 1984 BCE home // ancient egypt current location // new york, new york pronouns and gender  // he/him, nonbinary  occupation // pharoah, warlock for hire language(s) spoken // ancient egyptian, arabic, english accent // distinctly void of any accent

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

faceclaim // rami malek hair colour // black eye colour // brown height // 5′9 build // fit but not overtly muscled distinguishing features // ancient eyptian garb, or clothing inspired by it. 

ADDITIONAL CHARACTERISTICS

physical conditions // 73 stab wound scars neurological conditions // ptsd (from his brother stabbing him 73 times lmao), calustraphobic  sleeping habits //  cannot sleep in an enclosed space eating habits // pescatarian  exercise habits // doesn’t really do that lmao emotional stability // fairly stable i’d say sociability // loves meeting new people !

FAMILY

parent(s)// Merenkahre & Shepseheret Khonsuraque sibling(s) // Kahmunrah significant other(s) // n/a child(ren) // n/a

SOCIAL STATUS

financial //  wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty medical //  fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged class or caste //  upper / middle / working / slave / unsure education //  qualified / unqualified / studying

BELIEFS

general // polytheistic belief in ghosts or spirits //  yes / no / don’t know / don’t care. belief in an afterlife //  yes / no / don’t know / don’t care. belief in reincarnation //  yes / no / don’t know / don’t care. belief in aliens //  yes / no / don’t know / don’t care. belief in karma //  yes / no / don’t know / don’t care. religious //  orthodox / liberal / in between / not religious.

PERSONALITY

mbti // infp hogwarts house // hufflepuff moral alignment //  lawful good

ROMANTIC / SEXUAL INCLINATIONS

romantic orientation// homoromantic sexual orientation // demisexual polyamorous or monogamous // monogamous

PREFERENTIAL TENDENCIES

extroverted / introverted / in between disorganized / organized / in between close minded / open-minded / in between calm / anxious / in between disagreeable / agreeable / in between cautious / reckless / in between patient / impatient / in between outspoken / reserved / in between leader / follower / in between empathetic / unemphatic / in between optimistic / pessimistic / in between traditional / modern / in between hard-working / lazy / in between cultured / un-cultured / in between / unknown loyal / disloyal / unknown faithful / unfaithful / unknown

VICES

drinking alcohol //  never / sometimes / frequently / to excess. smoking //  never / sometimes / frequently / to excess. other narcotics //  never / sometimes / frequently / to excess. indulgent food //  never / sometimes / frequently / to excess. splurge spending // never / sometimes / frequently / to excess. gambling //  never / sometimes / frequently / to excess. violence //  never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

[thesunisalonetoo-a]

courfeyrac (les miserables)

main verse //  the most used verse will be his modern verse so that is the information i’m putting down here !!

disclaimer: all information provided is for main verse; may vary depending on verse

BASIC INFORMATION

full name // adrien alejandro gomez-courfeyrac nicknames or aliases or titles // courf ; the centre age and birthday //   22    ; 08 April 1996 home // paris, france current location // paris, france pronouns and gender  // he/him; transman occupation // student (getting a veterinarian degree)  ; part time baker language(s) spoken // english, french, spanish accent // parisian french with a nice hint of NOT FRENCH bc ya know ;;;;;; he has a bit of a spanish accent as well it’s a very interesting accent.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

faceclaim // samuel larsen hair colour // dark brown eye colour // brown height // 6′0″ build // fit but not overtly muscular distinguishing features // he’s so freckled its unbelievable A SEA OF FRECKLES

ADDITIONAL CHARACTERISTICS

physical conditions // n/a neurological conditions // adhd, seasonal affective disorder sleeping habits // he likes to be curled up in a tiny ball, and prefers to be spooned bc honestly ;;; comfort him eating habits // vegetarian ; he eats SO MUCH exercise habits // he run emotional stability // he’s pretty emotionally stable sociability // very, very social !

FAMILY

parent(s)// adrien courfeyrac sr & yolanda gomez sibling(s) // n/a significant other(s) // elijah combeferre child(ren) // n/a

SOCIAL STATUS

financial //  wealthy* / MODERATE / poor / in poverty *born wealthy medical // FIT / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged class or caste //  upper* / middle / WORKING / slave / unsure  *born upper class education //  qualified / unqualified / STUDYING

BELIEFS

general // raised catholic, sort of agnostic. belief in ghosts or spirits // YES / no / don’t know / don’t care. belief in an afterlife //  YES / no / don’t know / don’t care. belief in reincarnation //  YES / no / don’t know / don’t care. belief in aliens //  YES / no / don’t know / don’t care. belief in karma //  YES / no / don’t know / don’t care. religious //  orthodox / LIBERAL / in between / not religious.

PERSONALITY

mbti // enfp hogwarts house // hufflepuff moral alignment // chaotic good

ROMANTIC / SEXUAL INCLINATIONS

romantic orientation//  homoromantic sexual orientation // demisexual polyamorous or monogamous // monogamous

PREFERENTIAL TENDENCIES

EXTROVERTED / introverted / in between DISORGANIZED / organized / in between close minded / OPEN-MINDED / in between CALM / anxious / in between disagreeable / AGREEABLE / in between cautious / RECKLESS / in between patient / IMPATIENT / in between OUTSPOKEN / reserved / in between leader / FOLLOWER / in between EMPATHETIC / unemphatic / in between OPTIMISTIC / pessimistic / in between traditional / MODERN / in between HARD-WORKING / lazy / in between CULTURED / un-cultured / in between / unknown LOYAL / disloyal / unknown faithful / unfaithful / UNKNOWN

VICES

drinking alcohol //  never / sometimes / FREQUENTLY / to excess. smoking //  NEVER / sometimes / frequently / to excess. other narcotics //  NEVER / sometimes / frequently / to excess. indulgent food //  never / sometimes / FREQUENTLY / to excess. splurge spending // never / SOMETIMES / frequently / to excess. gambling // NEVER / sometimes / frequently / to excess. violence //  never / SOMETIMES / frequently / to excess.

[uelden]

Vanity Fair interview translated

Just a side note before the actual translation; I don't know why, but instead of reporting the full questions and answers in full as she should, the journalist decided to report only summarized fragments of what Måneskin said and patch these fragments up into messy clusters. She also worded a couple phrases in a very confusing way (and yes, she's fully Italian). In short, she did quite a poor job, so the final shape of the interview is not that good. I didn't expect top-tier journalism from Vanity Fair but ffs. You'll see what I mean.

I translated it as it is, adding just a couple footnotes to give you insight on Italian pop culture references.

Translation under the cut

Måneskin: "Different from whom?"

by Lavinia Farnese, 09 June 2021

"True justice is being judged for what you do and not for what you are." The ones who are convinced of this are Damiano, Victoria, Ethan and Thomas who, by being the emblem of a generation that is finally free, refuse labels and conformism. In life, in love and on the stage. Where, maybe precisely because of this, they're winning everything

With the still unexpected (first place at Sanremo Festival) and the incredible (triumph at Eurovision) in their eyes, Måneskin are on the sofa of the house-studio they rented - to resume writing songs and rehearsing them - like you are after a won battle: lying in a calm and unreal silence, alert and a bit irreverent, happy.

In the garden there's the tennis table and the pool, the light of summer when it's starting and calming the country all around, and it filters inside from the large windows, and it goes onto the shining black of Ethan's hair, which blends with Thomas' eye shadow and the butterfly he has tattooed oh his naked forearm, which completes the picture of Victoria's golden crucifix hanging between neck and tank top and ends on the black nail polish of Damiano's stretched hands.

It's a human fresco, a Theatre of wrath [translator's note: "Teatro d'ira"] - to call it with the title of their latest album, a platinum record already - where their flaunted 20 years of age, their irregular femininity and virility are grown into proud and challenging custom, a pop glam rock generational manifesto of hard-earned liberties in a finally-unconditional expression of the self.

To watch them from any angle and from another age is to think that a great love will be born in those who'll understand: this new way of being in the world, the true and sovereign realm they hold where "diversity=exceptionality", the power of the artistic and cultural revolution of which they are healthy carriers in establishing in all lyrics and gestures the right to live according to one's own nature past the "people (who) talk, the people (who) unfortunately talk, and don't know what the fuck they're talking about." [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

We go where we're afloat, where the air isn't gone. [tn: journalist's own variation on "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

Miley Cyrus says hi – The numbers of a phenomenon

"The streams of Zitti e buoni are growing by the second, and they bring us above Muse, at the top of English charts, twelfth in the Spotify Global Chart. Followers almost tripled, in the post-Rotterdam period (from 1,4 to 3,3 millions, ed.) Contagious and universal folly: t-shirts and merchandising sold out in 10 minutes. Like the records, the tickets for a tour that keeps adding dates and expanding over geographic maps. They're contacting us even from some festivals were The Rolling Stones went." Thomas

"After the pretextual controversy over cocaine that France built against us, later disproven by my drug test, some graffiti popped up in Spain depicting me as a “No drugs” poster guy. Some tweets made us laugh: "Congratulations, Italy! I've never been more certain that four people have had sex with each other." Miley Cyrus started following us -You're great. -You guys are greater." Damiano

From the garage to the stars – Story of a flight

"It was only 2016, and we played in restaurants, in the streets, in via del Corso. Damiano without even a microphone, Thomas' guitar with wonky strings, Ethan was drumming on a cajón. During Rome highschools' sit-ins (Kennedy, Virgilio, Mamiani) we had our first confirmations and half-hours of celebrity, playing among those who criticized us and those who went "wow they're really cool." One of the rare times when they would have paid us – 50 euros each – we gave the money to the next band in the lineup so that they would make us play in their spot, later in the day, when there would have been more people. We had already realized how things worked. Visibility mattered more than money. And we still think that." Victoria

The intimacy of rock – Choice of a genre

"Music allows us the miracle of extending to others some very personal and private topics, sometimes even difficult and thorny ones. They are and they remain deeply your own, but at the same time they become a confession that reaches a wider audience, and in this passage that is alike a delivery, they find a place in you as well, a processing of them. You overcome them, you accept them. One second it's something aggressive, the next it's a ballad. Cathartic». Damiano

Against panic – The stage as therapy

"I've suffered a lot from anxiety and panic attacks, it's an issue I've worked on thanks to a psychotherapy course, my friends and my family. Playing helped me in not letting myself be paralyzed by my fears, not making myself limited in my private and professional life. I've learned to accept, to live with this side of myself. I don't hide it. I don't feel ashamed of it." Victoria

Analysis as necessity – Relying on someone saves you

"This belief that only madmen go to the psychologist is a widespread ignorance. No-one's born learned. [tn: common Italian saying] And it's often hard to understand the very reason why we're here, let alone the origin and direction of our desires. It's a long and legitimate journey towards lucidity, a kind of backing to become transparent." Damiano

Being out of our minds – But different from them [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

"When you feel a strong passion towards something that is not a canonical job but an artistic language, that already puts you on a level of anomaly, which is not superior or inferior to other people, but it puts you in the position of the one who breaks the mold and also works at a loss, the one who sustains great risks while trying to do something that who knows if it will take you anywhere. "Why do it if it doesn't pay?". You want to give this dream of yours an aesthetic, but it becomes "You're dressing so weird! You must be gay!" - now that I'm 22 I laugh about it, but when I was 17 it had an effect on me, too." Damiano

The beauty of uniqueness – Of believing in it and defending it

"And I mean, at the end of the day if we're all different it's not because we want be alternative but because, really, no-one is the same. Justice is being judged on what you do and not what you are. Justice is equality, respect, beauty." Ethan

Fluid sexuality – Pride is freedom

"Heels for men that like themselves in them, kisses among ourselves, we have an open, extended mind, and we're proud of it. The horizons become vast, past the oppression of conservative families. With the information on the web knowledge becomes greater and with it the possibility that minorities will be less and less minorities, because the majority will be less of a majority. This way we'll make insults and bullying grow quieter. If social media get to a village of 50 souls and reveal to a girl who's afraid of the dark that someone has felt her same fear, then there's no reason to give a name to that fear, to mark it with labels which also limit and restrict. Definitions always had this effect on me. You shouldn't even consider the gender when judging someone, let alone their orientation." Victoria

Sexism – A culture to be dismantled

"Emma [tn: Emma Marrone, Italian singer] drops the bomb: “At Eurovision when I was there they massacred me for a pair of shorts, while they said nothing to Damiano – bare-chested and in heels.” The easy judgment against women is more fierce, constant, debasing (if I have a lot of sex I'm cool while Vic is a whore, where I show myself strong I'm a leader while Vic is despotic and a pain in the ass who reached success because she's hot.) As a male I'm privileged, the abuse I get is not comparable to those a woman has to live through, the comments over my aesthetic are centered only on my aesthetic and don't insinuate anything about my professionalism and my competence, while women are victims of this kind of thought in a systematic way. It happened though to find myself standing with a woman who while pulling me to herself to take a selfie, started licking my face out of the blue... I mean, what the hell do you want? Who asked you? Consent exists, and it's due." Damiano

Grow yourself – The only commandment

"To me conformism is the opposite of education [tn: could also mean "politeness"] and is the asphyxia of expression. I fortunately never endured heavy bullying, heavy enough for the the judgement of others to change me. But the mold of the small crumbs of bullying I got and of the kind of aggression that scars is the same. If I'm a kid who dances and likes dolls you have to let me do what I like. I was a kid who wanted to keep his hair long and played with Barbie. As a teen, my friends looked at my hair: " You have to find a girl with short hair to be at your side." My grandparents took away my dolls: "Stop it, they're not for you." Ethan

"When I was six I was already sick of them, the distinctions between masculine and feminine. I've always had strong ideas about how I wanted to be. I refused things that were typically defined as girly, and all around me they mocked me because I went skateboarding, I played soccer, I didn't wear skirts, I was giving myself the chance to be as I wished. I endured it a little, I suffered a little, but I had courage, and now thanks to that courage I know that I could have gotten even much more hurt, otherwise I would have left to others the most important choice: the one about myself." Victoria

Love in progress – Music, girlfriends

"I've been married to music for the last 20 years. I can't wait to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary." Ethan

"Everyone makes their own experiences, sometimes it goes well, sometimes it goes wrong, but it's always not anybody's business." Thomas

"When I first felt feelings and attraction towards a girl it was a bit disorienting because I had never had the courage of going beyond the limitations I had put for myself. For society being heterosexual is the norm and so you often define yourself in that way automatically, depriving yourself of the freedom to live many shades and faces of love. Once I overcame the initial insecurity of having to call into question my certainties I've lived my sexuality in a very natural and free way, as it should be for everyone." Victoria

"I had paparazzi at my door every day and night. So, after four years of relationship, I revealed her name. I still have paparazzi at my door every day and nigh, but at least I don't have to hide anything anymore." Damiano

The worth of the group – Phenomenology of protection

"The true engagement though, the true family is among ourselves, our band. We've believed in it since day zero, even before we called ourselves Måneskin (Moonlight in Danish), even before Ethan drew a giant moon on the flier for the first concert we ever did. We share everything, even the pain for the tragedy of Seid Visin, who committed suicide at 20 because of racism. [tn: I think the journalist asked them their opinion about Seid Visin's death, which was a current events topic in Italy, and then pasted it syntaxically in the middle of Thomas' answer, which was not a great move] A group is what we all should be: stay united and not back down an inch in the face of oppression that is generated by a distorted view of diversity." Thomas

I'm not of the right age – Like Gigliola [tn: Gigliola Cinquetti won Eurovision with her song "Non ho l'età", which means "I'm not of the right age"]

"Before you the only one who won both Sanremo and Eurovision on the same year was Cinquetti (1964). If there's anything I feel I'm not of the right age for? No, honestly no. Maybe having children. Regarding children I'll be honest: I'm not of the right age." Damiano

Having touched the sky – The fears that remain

"We're more than inside the dream, we're in the conquered dream. When you fly high there's the risk of plummeting and hurting yourself, but we'll work hard not to end up like Icarus, who burns his wings with the sun. Everything is in our hands. And this - a bit pretentiously - reassures us rather than scaring us." Damiano

[mistressemmedi]

Måneskin: "Different from whom?"

Greetings from Miley Cyrus - phenomenal numbers.

The streams of Zitti e Buoni are growing by the second, and ahead of Muse, on the top of the English charts, twelfth in the Spotify Global Chart. We almost tripled followers after Rotterdam (from 1.4 to 3.3 million, ed). Contagious and universal madness: T-shirts and merchandise sold out in 10 minutes. Like records, tickets for a tour that adds dates and expands on maps. They are even looking for us in festivals where the Rolling Stones have played. - Thomas

After the whole cocaine scandal that was started against us from France, which was later denied by my drug test, in Spain there people have been making murals with my face saying "No drugs". Some tweets made us laugh: «Congratulations, Italy! I have never been so sure that four people have fucked each other ". Miley Cyrus started following us. "You are great". “You are more” . - Damiano

From rags to riches - what a story

It was only 2016, and we were playing in restaurants, on the streets, in via del Corso (famous street in Rome). Damiano without a microphone, Thomas's guitar with broken strings, Ethan drummed on a cajón. At the occupations of the high schools in Rome (Kennedy, Virgilio, Mamiani) we had our first gigs and half an hour of fame, between those who criticized us and those who said "these guys are so cool". One of the rare times in which they offered to pay us to play - 50 euros each - we offered that money to those after us, in exchange for the chance to play during their time slow, as we knew there would have been a bigger crowd. We already understood then how it worked. That visibility was worth more than the money. We still think so ». - Victoria

The intimacy of rock - Choice of a genre

Music allows is this miracle which allows one to talk about very personal and private topics, even difficult and delicate ones. They are and remain deeply yours, but at the same time they become a confession that reaches a wider audience, and in this passage which is like a delivery, they also find their place in you, their elaboration. They are overcome, they are accepted. One moment it feels aggressive, one moment later a (soft) ballad. It's very cathartic. - Damiano

Against panic - The stage as therapy

I have suffered a lot from anxiety and panic attacks, it is a problem that I have worked on thanks to a course of psychotherapy, to my friends and family. Playing has helped me not to let myself be paralyzed by my fears, not to be limited in my private and professional life. I have learned to accept, to live with this side of me. I don't hide it. I no longer feel ashamed. - Victoria

This belief that only crazy people go to the psychologist is widespread ignorance. Nobody is born learned. And it is often difficult to understand why we are here, let alone the derivation and direction of our desires. It is a long and legitimate journey towards one's clarity. - Damiano

Essere fuori di testa – Ma diversi da loro (Be out of your mind - But different from them)

Already feeling a strong passion for something that is not a 'regular' profession but an artistic language, it puts you on a level where you're an anomaly, and while you're neither superior nor inferior to others, it places you in the condition of what breaks the mold but you're also being at a loss, leaving it to you to be bold and to take risks, hoping that they will pay off and land you somewhere. "What good is it if you don't stand out on your own?". You want to give it an aesthetic to your artistic dream, but to others it boils down to " You dress differently! You must be gay! ”, I'm 22 now and it makes me laugh, but at 17 it had an effect on me too. - Damiano

The beauty of being unique - Of believing in that and defending it

After all, we are all different not because we want to be alternative but because really no one is the same. Justice is being judged on what you do and not what you are. Justice is equality, respect, beauty. - Ethan

Fluid sexuality - Pride is freedom

We appreciate heels on men, we kiss each other, we have an open, extended mind, and we are proud of it. The horizons become vast, beyond the oppression of conservative families. With information on the web, knowledge is enriched and with it the possibility that minorities will be fewer and fewer, because majorities will be fewer and fewer. This will lower the volume to insults and bullying. If social networks can reach a village of 50 souls to reveal to someone, who is afraid of the darkness, that someone has felt that same fear.. There is no longer the need to give it a name, to define that "something" to fear, to brand it with labels that only limit you. Definitions have always had this effect on me. Gender should not even be considered in a person's judgment. Let alone orientation ". - Victoria

Sexism - A culture to be dismantled

Emma (Italian singer) dropped the bomb:" When I went to Eurovision, they insulted me over a pair of shorts. Damiano - half naked and in heels - was never criticized ". The judgment against women is constant, ferocious, and demeaning (if I have a lot of sex I'm cool but Vic a whore, where I show myself strong I'm a leader she is domineering and pain in the ass, who is successful because only because of her looks [and not the hard work she puts in]). As a male I am privileged, the harassment I suffer is not comparable to that experienced by a woman, the comments on my aesthetics are focused only on my aesthetics and do not insinuate anything about my professionalism and my competence, while women are victims of this kind of thinking in a systemic way. But I did find myself in a situation, out of nowhere, with someone who, pulling close to her for a selfie, started licking my face ... "What do you want, did you ask me?" Consent exists, and it is a must ». - Damiano

To grow as a person - The only rule to follow

For me, to conform is the total opposite of educating oneself, and the asphyxiation of one's expression (of freedom). Fortunately, I did not suffer heavy bullying, to the point where I felt I needed to change to adapt to how others saw me. But the matrix of who I am and the aggression that marks me is the same. If I'm a kid who dances and loves dolls, then allow me the freedom to do so. I used to be a kid who wanted long hair and played with Barbies. My friends, as a teenager, looked my long hair and teased me: "You have to find yourself a girl with a short hair to make up for it". My grandparents took the dolls away from me and said: “Stop it, they're not for you” ». - Ethan

“I was six and I already could not tolerate the distinctions between masculine and feminine. I've always had strong ideas about how I wanted to be. I refused things typically defined as feminine as a child, and they made fun of me for skating, for playing soccer, for not wearing skirts, for giving myself the chance to be as I wanted to be. I suffered a little, as I was bullied, but I had courage to stay true to myself, and today thanks to that courage I know that I could have been much more hurt, or I would have risked leaving the most important decision to others: the one about being just me". - Victoria

Love - music and girlfriends

I've been married to music for the past 20 years. I cannot wait to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary. - Ethan

Everyone goes through their own experiences, sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad, but it's never other people's business." - Thomas

When, for the first time, I developed feelings and attraction for a girl it was a bit disorienting because I had never had the courage to go beyond the limitations I had imposed on myself. For society, being heterosexual is the norm and therefore often one automatically pegs himself in that way, giving up the freedom to experience many different shades and facets of love. Once I got over the initial insecurity of having to question one's own certainties, I lived my sexuality in a very natural and free way, as it should be for everyone. - Victoria

I had paparazzi under my house morning and night. So, after four years of relationship, I finally revealed her name. I still have the paparazzi under my house morning and night, but at least I don't have to hide anything anymore. - Damiano

The value of the group - Protecting each other

But the real relationship, the real family, is between us. Our band. We believed in it from the first day, even before calling ourselves Måneskin (moonlight in Danish), even before Ethan drew a giant moon, on the poster for our first concert. We share everything, even the pain of the tragedy of Seid Visin, who committed suicide at 20 because he was a victim of racism. Being a group is what we should all do together: stay united and not retreat in the slightest in the face of abuses generated by a distorted vision of someone "being different|. - Thomas

Non ho l’età – like Gigliola (It references Gigliola Cinquetti who won both Sanremo and Eurovision with her song "Non ho l’età" which translates to Not old enough)

Before us, the only one to win Sanremo and Eurovision together was Gigliola Cinquetti (in 1964). Is there is something for which I feel I am not yet old enough for? No, honestly no. Maybe for kids. I'll be honest, I'm not enough to be a dad. - Damiano

Reached the sky - What fears still remain

We are more than in the dream, we have conquered the dream. To fly high this high, there is the risk is to fall and get hurt, but we will try not to end up like Icarus, who burns his wings with the sun. Everything is in our hands. And this - somewhat presumptuously - reassures us rather than frighten us ". - Damiano

(ORIGINAL INTERVIEW IN ITALIAN)

[Please note that I have changed some words or structure sentence, trying to make it so that the interview made more sense lol - I skipped the first two paragraphs, which was basically the interviewer gushing over how pretty the band is lmao (relatable).

Any mistakes in the translation are sorely mine, nothing was proofread, so apologies in advance]

[carat-archive]

under all this

➝ prompts: 

“I wish you could be kissed, Jane,” he said. “Because I would beg just one off you. Under all this.” He flailed an arm toward the stars. — Maggie Stiefvater, The Dream Thieves 

13. “i’m not worthy of anybody’s love.” “that’s not true, you’re worthy of mine.” followed by the lover breaking eye-contact… + a love confession (source)

➝ pairing: best friend!chanhee x gn!reader, former changmin x reader

➝ genre: fluff, minimal angst

➝ themes & tropes: best friends to lovers

➝ warnings: alcohol consumption

➝ word count: 1.3k

➝ notes: this is so self-indulgent it hurts, but anyways, here’s a drabble based off one of my favorite lines of dialogue from the raven cycle + a bonus prompt i found on tumblr. (this also made me realize i rarely write friends to lovers... should do that more often). special thanks to grace & husna (@masterninjacow​) for beta-reading this for me!

➝ scan credit: @hyunjae_gif / hyunjae-gif on twitter / tistory!

You think part of you will always love Ji Changmin. Another part of you knows the two of you were never meant to be.

You realize this when you see him at the altar, a look of pure adoration on his face as he gazes at his newlywed spouse. (He never looked at you like that.) 

It stirs up a cocktail of emotions, ranging from envy to relief. Eventually, you would have fallen out of love with him, and yet, you still wish it were you up there with Changmin, about to have your first dance as a married couple. 

Maybe you’re just lonely, you muse, downing your glass of champagne. 

Someone squeezes your hand beside you, drawing your attention away from the happy pair. Chanhee interlaces his fingers with yours, smiling softly in your direction. Sighing, you rest your head on his shoulder, leaning into his warmth. 

“Thanks for coming today, you didn’t have to,” you murmur, fingering the empty flute of champagne in your unoccupied hand. 

“I’m your best friend,” he states, a laugh spilling off his lips. “You know I would do anything for you.” He pries the glass from your hand, uncurling your fingers. “I’ll go get you another drink.” 

You do your best to mingle with the other guests without Chanhee by your side, encountering old friends and exchanging pleasantries until your cheeks begin to hurt from the effort of keeping the smile frozen on your face. After what seems like your fiftieth greeting, you begin to wander around the venue, hoping to catch a glimpse of Chanhee before you stumble backwards into a warm body. 

“Oh it’s you,” Changmin says, interrupting the stuttering start to your apology. He’s alone, you notice, his spouse likely making their own rounds around the room. 

Your words pour out on their own volition, accompanied by nervous laughter. “Congratulations! I’m so happy for you. Sorry for bumping into you just now. I guess I should watch where I’m going.” 

Changmin chuckles, taking a sip from his wine glass. “No worries. How have you been?” 

“I’ve been doing well! I moved back a few weeks ago and I started my new job recently. We should meet up soon, it would be nice to get the group back together,” you ramble, shifting your weight from side to side. 

“I see you and Chanhee finally figured things out,” he says, smiling above his wine glass, following your eyes as they dart around the room.

“What do you mean?” 

“You two have always been in love with each other, whether you realized it or not. It’s why we never could have worked out.” He shakes his head, looking down at his hands. ”You would always put him first, and there was never room for three in your relationship.” 

Your mouth drops open in shock, but before you can formulate a response, an enthusiastic couple rushes up to Changmin, offering their congratulations. As he turns to face them, he calls out over his shoulder, “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

With that, he walks away, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You need some air.

Pushing open the doors to the balcony, you step outside, feeling the cool night breeze brush against your skin. You wrap your arms around your sides, taking deep breaths as you gaze up at the stars.

Chanhee’s your best friend, your better half, the first person you talk to in the morning and the last one at night. He’s the only one who has seen the entirety of your soul and still somehow decided to stay by your side. If there were one person you had to spend the rest of your life with, it would be him. You can’t imagine a life without Choi Chanhee. 

But that doesn’t mean you like him like that, right?

The door creaks open behind you, but you don’t bother turning around. There’s only one person who would come looking for you here. As if to confirm your suspicions, Chanhee taps your elbow gently, extending your now-refilled champagne flute towards you. 

“Thanks,” you mumble sheepishly, leaning against the cool metal ledge of the balcony. You can’t help but notice the slight flush in his cheeks and the way his eyes seem to drink in the sight of you bathed in moonlight, like ill-fated Actaeon stumbling across the form of heavenly Artemis. 

Maybe your conversation with Changmin affected you more than you had thought. 

“Sorry I took so long,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “I got caught up with some old friends.” 

“Understandable. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” 

Chanhee hums in agreement, settling by your side, his elbow brushing yours. You ignore how the brief touch makes your skin tingle in excitement, as if you were a lovestruck teenager again. 

“What did Changmin want?” he asks.

“Nothing.” 

“Are you sure?” He tilts his head towards you, taking in your distant expression. “You look pretty tense.” 

“I’m fine. Just thinking.” You take another sip of the champagne, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “It’s just… I thought I was going to marry this guy someday, and here I am, avoiding everyone at his wedding while they’re celebrating.” You laugh bitterly, shoulders starting to slump downwards. “The thing is, it’s not that I’m not happy for him. I mean, I’ve been over him for a while. I just didn’t expect coming back to feel like this.” Gesturing vaguely, you let out a sigh before meeting Chanhee’s gaze. For the first time in a while, you realize that you can’t tell what he’s thinking. “Maybe I’m just not worthy of anybody’s love.” 

“That’s not true,” Chanhee replies, his face softening as he takes hold of your hand. “You’re worthy of mine.” 

You avert your eyes as you attempt to extract your hand from his grasp. “You’re only saying that as my best friend.” 

“I’m serious, Y/N,” he pleads, drawing your attention back towards him. Dropping your hand, he rakes his hair back in exasperation. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m in love with you. Maybe I’ve been in love with you all along, and never realized it until one day I looked at you and realized I didn’t want to call you just my best friend, but also my lover, my partner. Mine.” 

Chanhee takes a deep breath before meeting your eyes again, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You deserve to be loved.”

He leans against the balcony, placing his hands by either side of your body until he’s close enough that you can feel the illusion of his touch on your skin. You’re more than aware of the metal ledge digging into your back, but it doesn’t bother you—not when Choi Chanhee stands in front of you, looking like he outshines all the stars in the night sky, breathtaking and brilliant. 

“Can I kiss you? Just once?” he begs, gently cradling your face in his hands. “Just once, under all this, to show you the kind of love you deserve. And then we will never speak of it again.”

“Just once,” you breathe out, nodding your head. Just once to see what it’s like, to get it out of your system, to crush the butterflies suddenly fluttering around in your stomach.

Chanhee’s lips are soft, hesitant—caressing yours with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him infinitesimally closer to you, your fingers threading through his hair. You let yourself get lost in the kiss, indulging in the sweet alcohol on his lips, even as you tell yourself that it’s just pretend. 

You can blame it on the champagne running through your veins all you want, but deep down, you know that once you’ve had your taste of Chanhee, you’ll never want to let him go. 

Chanhee pulls away, a bittersweet look in his eyes. As he tries to detangle himself from your embrace, you quickly press your lips to his again, leaving him stunned by the sudden action. 

“I love you,” you whisper, placing your forehead against his. “I think I’ve always loved you, I just didn’t know it yet.”

A dazzling smile spreads across Chanhee’s face as he kisses you back, his thumb stroking your cheek softly. 

“I love you too.”

[everlarkficexchange]

Written by: @alliswell21

Title: One of Us

Prompt 145: She moves in with her aunt and uncle when her parents dies in a small town. After suffering through trama, Katniss slowly starts to get better with the help of her family (aunt, uncle, cousin) and the Mellark brothers. But when things starts happening to her and the people around her, it’s revealed that she and almost everyone in the towns are apart of the werewolf pack and that one of the Mellark brothers is her mate. #werewolves [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Rated: G for general audiences.

Tags: Canon Divergent!AU; Modern with a dash of Supernatural; Grief/Mourning; Feeding as a Language of Love.

Note: This is my final submission to this year's EFE challenge! Yay! I really am grateful to @xerxia31 and @javistg for their continued support of this fandom and for hosting once again this event. You are such amazing people, and I’m absolutely honored to be part of a community with people as amazing as you two are! Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for keeping EFE alive!

@animekpopxx, thank you too! You feed my muse! And you give me Werewolves!!!!

This story was a bit of rushed job, though, and there’s more of it, I mean... we haven’t seen them turn into wolves yet!!! 🤣 I just didn’t have time to edit the complete fic before the deadline, but if you’d like to read the finished product, keep an eye out for it on AO3. I’m fairly sure the rating will keep, but we will see.

 Kpkpkpk

There’s nothing but the sound of crickets and frogs filling the vast darkness of the night.

It’s another moonless night out here in Panem… or is I like to call it ‘the middle of nowhere’. It’s weird, how dark nights feel here, there’s barely a start peeking tonight, but in a strange way, I like it.

Sitting on my aunt and uncle’s porch to watch the infinite dark ahead while listening to the nocturnal critters it’s about my favorite thing to do… it’s what did used to do when we came here for long summer stays, anyway. He used to say he felt at peace and relaxed, connected with nature. Too bad it took him to be gone, for me to appreciate what he meant by that. So every night I come out here and sit in the steps hugging my knees, staring at nothing but the deep, black night surrounding the cabin, whisking my dad was sitting next to me.

Tonight is different than usual, though. It was raining until recently, and the smell of wet earth is so familiar my chest feels tight and my throat is knotted.

“Petrichor, Katniss,” I mumble the words noiselessly, “is the smell of rain, hun. It smells the same everywhere in the world.”

I lean my chin on my knees, wishing I could go back to feeling numb like when my parents just died. But thinking of the word petrichor, while smelling the thing, is bring forth a plethora feelings and memories I don’t know how to handle.

Dad used to love Scrabble, crossword puzzles and trivia challenges. He tried to get me interested in those games, teaching me words and their meanings, every time he had a chance.

I wish I had been more enthusiastic about learning the darned stuff; it would’ve meant an extra moment spent with Dad, and less regret to feel right now.

An involuntary whine leaves my chest. It hurts to think about it, and not for the first time, I dig my nails into my skin to keep myself rooted in place, and not tear running into the void.

I feel like I’m spiraling out of control, I fear this time something will break in my head and I’ll do something crazy, like scratch my skin away and run wild into the woods, like a beast… but the overwhelming thoughts gets halted when I hear soft noises from out in the distance.

It’s like the crunching of footsteps on the gravel at the mouth of my aunt and uncle’s property. It’s too dark and isolated here, deep into the country. I’ve seen big wildlife roaming around: deer, raccoons, coyotes and even a lynx. But the longer I hear the noises, the more certain I am I’m being stalked by something big and fast.

My heart beats erratically in my chest; every hair in my body stands on point, fear is clawing its way up my chest and into my throat, my eyes feel about to pop from my skull, and then I’m disentangling my knees from my arms, standing up as tall as I can— which isn’t saying much—and then I call into the night, “Who’s there?!”

I hear a faint disturbance of air, and then…

“Good evening, Katniss!”

Slowly, from the shadows, a blonde head pops, eerie for a second. Broad shoulders follow, and then a torso. Before the rest of his body comes visible into the light of the porch, two more blonde heads come into view, flank the first person on either side: Shoulders, torsos, Jean covered legs… The three Mellark brothers make their way leisurely towards me.

I nearly faint from relief after the rush of adrenaline pumping in my veins. Going through so many emotions: grief, sorrow, dread and relief, so fast in such a short amount of time has left me winded and unsteady.

I lose my balance, but one of the boys— Peeta, the youngest— breaks ranks, and rushes to hold me upright.

“Are you okay?” He asks softly, helping me sit back down on the porch steps. I lean my head against the main post.

“I’m okay. Just a little lightheaded,” I try not to glare. They gave me a fright, but I doubt they did it on purpose.

It’s something I’ve learn over the years. People in Panem are kind of quirky.

“Sorry we scared you,” Peeta offers, sheepishly. “We wanted to check up on you, and bring you something…” he looks up at his two older brothers and Rye — the middle one— steps forward, holding up a brown, paper bag, with little greasy spots on the sides.

I can guess what’s inside. They’ve been bringing me cheese buns almost daily, since Peeta found out they’re my favorites.

Rey hands the baggie to Peeta, and the latter offers it to me with a soft smile.

“Thanks,” I mumble, gratefully. I can smell the cheesy, yeasty treat through the bag; I can feel the warmth of the buns too! “While I love freshly baked cheese buns, you guys didn’t have to make this trek just to bring me a treat… on a dark, moonless night no less,” I fix them with a glare. “How did you even get here anyway? You couldn’t have walked and I never saw a car coming?”

My aunt and uncle’s cabin is at least 4 miles from town, and surrounded by woods; but then again, most houses in this weird little place are built in similar locations. It seems the townsfolk take their privacy extremely seriously.

“We rode our dirt bikes,” chimes Rye in, cheerily. “Not much light on those bulbs, though, but it’s okay. Our night vision is prime!” He gives me the A-Okay gesture.

“Rye,” the eldest, Bannock, warns lowly. Baring his teeth.

Rye shrugs and slips his hands on his Jean pockets.

I swear Rye hisses something like “it’s true” under his breath, but Peeta has been rubbing my back with the tip of his fingers all this time, and I’m getting drowsy, so I may have imagined the whole exchange.

“You should eat those while they’re still warm,” Peeta murmurs close by my shoulder.

I nod, and open the bag, releasing all the delicious smells of the buns, while Peeta massages my shoulders, encouragingly.

I must be really out if it tonight, because outside of my family, I’ve never been comfortable with people touching me… but, my family is all gone now, and I can’t go through the rest of my life without human touch, can I?

Grief stricken me out of nowhere, and barrels through me. I gasp at the acute pain in my soul at the loss of my parents. But in an instant, I’m enveloped in strong, thick arms, warm and steady. I’m sobbing into a hot, solid chest, covered in the softest cotton I’ve ever felt.

“Shush… I’ve got you, Katniss. I’m here for you,” Peeta whispers soothingly into the crown of my head.

He smells so good; like cinnamon and dill, from the bread he must’ve made this afternoon at his family’s bakery.

It takes a few minutes for me to get a hold of myself, and embarrassedly push out of his embrace, “I’m sorry,” I mumble, mortified.

Bannock presents me with a handkerchief, and I take it gratefully to wipe off my face and nose, before returning the soiled square of fabric to him.

I’m not sure why the Mellark brothers are being so nice to me. I’ve never been around them more than a handful of days over the past few years, when we came to see Dad’s remaining family outside mom and I, his half brother, his wife and their child.

I don’t know the Mellarks all that well, but in the handful of weeks since my parents’ funeral, the three brothers have been incredibly attentive and generous to me. Peeta more than the other two, but I don’t mind… I like him best anyway.

“It’s okay to cry and be devastated, Katniss.” Says Bannock, sagely. “You’re going through the worst time of your life, and we care for you… like family.”

“Oh,” I sit straighter, blowing my nose. I feel a little strange hearing him say that, “thank you? I appreciate your kindness,”

He nods, “Peeta’s right, though. You should eat the cheese buns before they go cold.”

“A full stomach always helps me feel better,” Rye adds, patting his belly, and smiling at me.

My stomach growls, as if to show agreement. I am hungry. I didn’t touch my supper earlier. I pick up the bakery gingerly, and pretty much shove my nose into it. The steam curls out of the baggie, filling my nostrils with the delicious smells. I pluck out a bun and practically inhale it in a second; quickly followed by another one. My third cheese bun, I decide to savor, slowly.

The Mellark siblings just hang around while I devour my treats.

The front door opens just as I’m wiping my hands on my leggings. My aunt’s head peeks out of the door.

“Oh, why hello everyone!” She greets, as bubbly as always. She’s wearing a dark purple wig, to match her dark purple outfit.

“Good evening, Effie,” says Peeta, standing from his squatting position next to me. “We brought Katniss a gift,” he points at the now empty bag in his hand.

“How sweet of you, Peeta!” my aunt gushes, “thank you for checking on our girl, and making sure she’s put something in her tummy before bedtime!”

I roll my eyes. Aunt Effie keeps treating me like a kid. I hate it. I’m 17 and mourning, not a freaking baby!

“It’s no problem at all, Effie! We were just on our way home anyway.”

“Well, it’s always nice having you boys over,” she offers, “but it’s getting late, and Primrose is already in bed, which is why I came out here to begin with, to let Katniss know that her sister was already asleep, so she’d know to tip toe back inside when she was ready to go to bed herself,” my aunt smiles.

I feel a slight pang of guilt; I’ve been wallowing in my own sadness this evening, and missed tucking my sister in to sleep. She’s the only person I’m sure I love, yet tonight I’ve let my own misery drown me.

“Don’t mind us, Effie,” Says Bannock, “We were about to leave…” he pauses and then calls a meaningful, “Peeta?”

“I’m going to wish Katniss a good night, and then we’ll go,” he says.

Not for the first time, I wonder if Peeta has a crush on me? I wouldn’t know he did, even if I wasn’t feeling so rotten inside. I’m not very good at flirting… but with Peeta it is different I think. He’s so nice to me, he’s taken up asking if I’ve eaten that day and if I haven’t, he feeds me something from his family’s bakery without charging me… it’s like he actually cares for me and my well-being, and his brothers care, because he does. It’s mesmerizing at times.

Peeta looks me in the eyes, “Are you ready to go inside?” He asks, offering his two open palms to me. He helps me up from the floor, and then smiles sweetly. He doesn’t let go of my hands while we stand facing each other.

Then something strange happens. Peeta doesn’t blink, as his clear-blue eyes bore into mine, and then his pupils blow out full, until only a ring of deep, glowing azure remains for his irises, “Sleep well, Katniss,” his voice sounds deeper and warmer than usual, “Rest and have a relaxing, dreamless night. Remember what I said: we are all here for you, to help through this hard time… alright?”

I feel groggy, “Yes, Peeta,” I mumble feeling my eyelids getting heavier.

“Oh dear, can you please instruct her to walk herself to bed? She might look lithe, but I promise, her little body is as heavy as any of us,”

Huh? What’s aunt Effie going on about? I don’t understand.

Peeta chuckles, squeezing my hands warmly in his, “You heard Effie… don’t fall asleep until you’ve gone into your bedroom and change into comfy pajamas.”

I nod, “Okay,”

“Good night, Katniss, I’ll be back tomorrow. Try to eat something on your own, I know you’re sad, but you need your strength for when the solstice comes.”

What a weird thing to say! Everything is strange here though… so I nod and march inside the house, mumbling my good nights to everyone and rubbing my very sleepy eyes. Once I’m in my sleep clothes, I lay in bed, and try to ignore the yearning of having Peeta rubbing my back like he was doing while I ate my cheese buns.

I sigh and go to sleep, a weird thought pops into my mind: “I’m so lucky to have such a sweet, caring mate. Peeta Mellark. Can’t wait to be bonded with him,”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

bao | myg | 2

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Min Yoongi is always late to start work. He’s late in starting a lot of things. Like telling you he loves you.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of parental injury/surgery; SO MUCH fluff; non-idol!AU; (slightly more) jealous deliveryboy!Yoongi x hardworking chef!reader ft. bao fiend, next-door neighbor, model!Taehyung who can’t cook to save his life lol

-

1.

-

"What's wrong?" Kim Taehyung asked as he bit into his bao. He asked for an extra sweet bun for his manager today. "Is it your dad?" he added, concern laced on his voice. 

"No, not really. He has a checkup tomorrow." You gnawed on your lip as he excitedly chomped into his saucy beef bun. "Hopefully he's recovering well." You rubbed your forehead. Day by day, you could see Yoongi’s black eye healing, but you couldn’t help but worry about him. He had promised not to punch anyone heedlessly, but you doubted he meant it. "Don't get injured, Taehyung."

Taehyung raised his eyebrows. "Why would I get injured?"

"I don't know, but don't. I don't need any more stress," you chuckled dryly, not really amused but unsure exactly how you were feeling. 

Taehyung tilted his head. 

"Are you lonely?"

You raised your head. "Huh?"

"Have you seen your parents in person?"

You blinked. "Well, no. I have to prep, clean, and do errands on my off day. But I video call them often."

Taehyung shrugged. "You used to work at the counter and talk to people all day. Now you're only in the kitchen and the only human beings you see consistently are the delivery guy and I, right? They're all short interactions too." His brown eyes softened, almost parental. "It must be lonely."

You exhaled, feeling the invisible weight of the days’ past. "Maybe..."

Taehyung smiled. "Tell you what. I got a short day this week, so I'll stop by and help out. Just for fun!" He grinned wider now as you paled a bit at the thought. "You don't even have to pay me. I can do stuff!"

"Like what?" you laughed. "You can't cook, Taehyung."

He paused, realizing that was true. "I can clean!"

"You want to clean all day?"

"... I can eat!"

-

"Min Yoongi, Kim Taehyung."

Taehyung stuck his flour-covered hand out. "Hello! It's nice to meet you."

Yoongi blinked at his hand and gave him a small nod instead. Taehyung seemed to realize it was dirty and wiped his hands on a spare towel before eagerly grabbing Yoongi's hand and shaking it furiously. "I heard you're really dependable, hyung!"

Yoongi raised an eyebrow as his entire body shook with the force of Taehyung's handshake. He turned to your chuckling form rolling dough out into a circle. 

"That's the biggest lie you've ever told."

You smiled as you filled the dough circle with spicy pork. "Not true. You are dependable. Dependably late every morning."

You failed to notice Yoongi's apologetic frown, but Taehyung didn't. The younger man tilted his head, observing Yoongi’s dark eyes watching your hands. You pinched the bun into a neat twist before setting it on the tray.

"Taehyung, that's not a circle," you chided playfully, pointing to the, well, blob on Taehyung's side of the counter. 

Taehyung let go of Yoongi's hand. "I tried!" he whined childishly. "It's hard..."

Yoongi washed his hands clean as you wiped your hands on your apron. "Let me make lunch real quick while there's a break in orders and you two are here." You bumped into Yoongi as you headed to the sink, his wet hands colliding with your chest. 

"Ack, sorry, sorry," Yoongi mumbled, sounding flustered, but you laughed, brushing the water off.

"And that's why I wear my dad's jacket," you mused, referring to the white chef's coat you wore under the apron and over your clothes. 

You washed your hands at the sink, staring at the wide sleeves, remembering the call from earlier. Your father was recovering, but it would still be some time before he could work again and maybe not to his full capacity. Your father had protested, saying he felt fine. He was never one to complain about pain, but you knew he must have been hurting for years. If only he had gotten it checked out sooner. You sighed inwardly, but there was nothing you could do about it now. At the moment, you had to feed the two overgrown kids in your kitchen. 

"Wow, hyung, you're good!"

You turned around to see Yoongi rolling Taehyung's dough into a circle, tongue resting on the side of his lips, getting a bit of flour onto his leather sleeves. 

"Oh?"

You walked up behind him to see. Taehyung's dough was heavily over-kneaded, so the circle wasn't great but it was still a circle all the same. You smiled as Yoongi backed up, holding the wooden rolling pin awkwardly. 

"My brother's a chef," he mumbled. "And I've... seen you do it hundreds of times."

You picked up the dough circle and placed it in your palm, cradling it in your hand as you filled it with spicy pork. 

"Is it really spicy?" Taehyung asked worriedly.

You shook your head. "No, you should be fine. I remember you don't like your food too spicy." You pinched the top, twisting it prettily as you held it out to them. Taehyung looked it with sparkly eyes while Yoongi seemed embarrassed, eyes shifting awkwardly from the bun to the counter.

"It took three people to make this," you said with a laugh. “Hopefully it tastes good.”

-

You cut it in half evenly a few hours later, almost closing time. You held out one half to Taehyung and one half to Yoongi, whose cheeks were flushed from running around outside. He had worked hard all day, and you even had clients calling, complimenting on his speed and efficiency. Taehyung, well, Taehyung had been great company, although not particularly useful. A fun change from your usual lonesome day. 

Steam rose from the meat and white dough, soft and pliable.

The bun warmed your hands and their faces warmed your heart.

“What about you?” Taehyung said, taking one of the halves from you.

You grinned. “Nah, I’ll pass. I don’t want to get poisoned.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes. “Hey! You made the dough. All I did was roll it into a circle.”

“Actually, I rolled it into a circle,” Yoongi pointed out.

Taehyung fluffed his cheeks. “I rolled it into an almost circle.”

You recalled the shape of the blob with a scrutinous and amused frown. “Yeah, I don’t know about that.”

“It’s good.”

You turned your head to see Yoongi chewing. The half-bun was still in your fingers, a bite taken out of it. Had he… eaten it from your hand? You stared at him, but he wasn’t looking at you. His long fingers reached out and gripped the half, fingertips brushing against yours. He was still chewing, nodding thoughtfully.

“Not too spicy either.”

Your hand was still in the air. You quickly put it down and turned your attention to Taehyung, who took a huge bite.

“Ah! Hot!”

You laughed, fanning the space around his mouth. “Of course, it is. I just steamed it.”

Taehyung’s jaw wiggled as he tried to blow the steam off his tongue, panicked noises coming from his throat as you grabbed a water bottle and opened it for him so he could cool it off with a gulp of cool liquid.

“Ah, what am I going to do with you, Taehyung…”

-

You counted out Yoongi’s pay from the day’s total, calculating quickly. This was the easiest part of the day for you. Math came to you naturally. Cooking was much harder, at least when it came to cooking even half as good as your father.

“Do you like Taehyung?”

You had sent Taehyung home with bags full of buns to give to his parents. He had left with a skip in his step and a huge boxy grin, thanking you repeatedly and almost dropping everything. You had to yell at him to be careful at least three times.

“Of course, Taehyung’s my friend,” you chuckled. “He can be a bit all over the place though.”

“I meant in a more than friends kind of way.”

You stopped and looked up from you calculator. Yoongi was leaning over the counter, one arm perched on it, black leather jacket open and revealing his black-and-white patterned dress shirt. You noticed the first couple buttons were undone. Silver chains hung around his neck, decorating his collarbones. His long fingers tapped on the wood, silver rings glinting against his pale skin.

“Taehyung?” You shrugged. “Not really. Never thought of him that way.”

Yoongi gave you a long, discerning look. His dark brown eyes searched yours, hooded by his black bangs. It was making you uncomfortable. Suddenly, you could feel the flecks of flour on your cheeks, the scent of oil and cooked meat hanging from your clothes and hair. You went back to the calculations, busying yourself with bookkeeping.

This silence was weird. Usually, Yoongi was wordlessly waiting for you to finish so he could leave, but for some reason today it felt bizarre. You furrowed your brow as you recorded the day’s sales and Yoongi’s pay, subtracting it from the total.

“That’s good, because I like you in a more than friends kind of way.”

You placed Yoongi’s pay in an envelope and held it out to him. “Here you go. I added a little bonus for helping me babysit Taehyung today.”

Your gaze locked with Yoongi’s.

Then his words really hit you.

You blinked at him and his completely neutral expression. He wasn’t taking the envelope. Instead, he tilted his head, stare penetrating through your soul. Your heartbeat was suddenly in your ears. It felt like your face was right next to the stove, flushed from the fire.

“W… what?”

Yoongi nodded as if this was the expected result. “I figured I should tell you before Taehyung attempts to run off with you.”

You blinked rapidly, the heat increasing on your face. “W… what are you talking about?” you nervously laughed, placing the envelope in the counter and sliding it to him. You shook your head, trying to dissipate the heat. “You’ve gone too far with your jokes.”

Yoongi placed a hand on the envelope.

Then he lifted himself up and over the counter, launching his entire body over it.

You started, pinning yourself back into the wall, eyes widening as his black, thick-soled boots hit the tile floor. He was wearing black jeans again, the ones with a rip on the right knee. He lifted his head, making eye contact with you once again.

“It’s not a joke.”

He looked over to the recordkeeping book and closed it for you. Took the wad of cash that was the day’s sales and tied it in a rubber band, the same way you did it every night. Placed your pen where you placed it every night, next to the pen cup and not actually in it. You watched him, somewhat fascinated that he remembered all these details despite you never thinking about your habits as you did them, either in mid-conversation with him or simply worn out from the day.

Yoongi placed the cash on the recordkeeping book and turned back to face you.

“I’m serious.”

You remembered the moments that you brushed off so easily before. Yoongi’s body hitting yours when you grabbed his cap, the way he felt pushed up against you, breath on your neck. His fingertips touching yours, making you flinch involuntarily. Him eating from your hand earlier that day. The weird silence just now when he asked you if you liked Taehyung.

Your eyes shifted uneasily.

“Well… what I supposed to say?” you asked quietly.

For a long moment, Yoongi didn’t respond. Then he smiled, the smile not quite reaching his eyes.

“Nothing.”

He turned around.

But before he could walk off, before Yoongi could leave and come back in the morning, late as usual, you grabbed his leather jacket and yanked him back, spinning him back around. His lips parted, startled at your sudden movement, and you pressed your lips to his. His eyes widened.

So did yours.

The scent of leather and pine hit your nose. His lips felt soft. He tasted a little like the spicy pork you fed him earlier. It was a nearly a week after the black eye incident and it was barely noticeable anymore, with only small hints of bruising on his pale skin. He healed fast. You quickly drew back and grabbed the envelope, shoving it at him and pushing past, stunned that you did such a thing, hurriedly running to the kitchen. Or would have, if Yoongi’s arm didn’t block your exit, making you jerk back and hit him in the chest.

Now both your hands were on his black and white dress shirt, holding his pay against him.

You couldn’t look Yoongi in in the face. It was too awkward. You just stared at his neck, at the glittering silver necklaces.

“I have eyes, you know.”

You swallowed, grabbing his hand and placing it on the envelope. His fingers wrapped around yours. His other hand came up, tracing the buttons of his dress shirt. You flinched, jerking your head up as your free hand covered the one on his button placket. His silver rings felt cool against your hot palm.

“What are you doing?”

Yoongi cocked his head. You never realized how raspy and sexy his voice was until now. ‘Well, you didn’t want to look at my face, so I figured I would give you something else to look at.”

Your eyes darted from his hand to his face, flabbergasted.

“Don’t… play around,” you muttered, frowning.

Yoongi leaned down.

“I’m not.”

And now he kissed you, closing his eyes and pressing his lips against yours, sweetly but firmly, inhaling. You tried to break away, words tumbling from your lips.

“I’ve been working all day; I reek of grease,” you sputtered, but Yoongi grabbed your head and kissed you again, pressing your body against his, dusting flour onto the black leather, your body shuddering at the closeness, falling into his arms. Lips so soft they felt like pillows, not something you expected from lazy, late Yoongi.

“You smell nice,” he chuckled against your lips. “I love food. I especially love all the food you make.”

He kissed you between his words, light, feathery kisses that made you breathless.

“I should have told you every day,” Yoongi murmured. “Thank you for always packing everything so well and making my job so easy. Thank you for always making food for me and giving me the extras. Thank you for not firing me.”

You laughed a little against his lips. “You would have been fired a long time ago if you worked anywhere else.”

He kissed your forehead, a long, delicate one, far too beautiful to not be romantic. You felt your heartbeat slow to a crawl.

“I don’t want to work anywhere else,” he mumbled, so low you could barely hear him even though you were this close. “I want to stay by your side forever.”

What was this? Your hands tensed under his and he tightened his grip around your fingers.

“A little sudden for simply getting free food from your job,” you teased.

Yoongi lifted his face from your forehead, removing your hands from his chest. He turned them around, palms up, pressing his thumbs into them. Smiled down at you.

“It’s not free,” he said softly. “These hands work hard every day.”

Yoongi looked deep into your eyes.

“I never think the food you give me is free, because I see how much effort it takes to make them as delicious as they are.”

Your vision felt a little blurry for some reason.

“You should bring some to your parents. Your father would be proud of you.”

And for some reason, those words meant more to you than anything in the world.

-

“Is this vegetarian?” Yoongi asked curiously as he chewed.

“Yeah.”

He frowned a little. “I don’t like vegetables.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What are you, five?”

His eyes narrowed. “I was going to say, but I like this.”

You felt your ears burn. “Oh.”

Yoongi smirked, leaning over to kiss you, smelling like leather, silver rings glimmering in the kitchen lights.

-

3. smut.

--

masterpost

[loveforsaken-a]

jace lightwood-herondale

main verse // mostly show and headcanon based.

disclaimer: all information provided is for main verse; may vary depending on verse

BASIC INFORMATION

full name // jonathon christopher lightwood herondale (prev. wayland, morgenstern ) nicknames or aliases or titles // jace age and birthday // 20 ; 18 jan 1998 home // idris, alicante current location // new york institute, new york city, new york pronouns and gender // he/him ; transman occupation // shadowhunter language(s) spoken //  english, latin accent // very generic new york accent

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

faceclaim // austin butler hair colour // blond eye colour // heterochromic height // 6′0 build // muscular lil binch distinguishing features // heterochromic eyes, runes

ADDITIONAL CHARACTERISTICS

physical conditions // various battle scars neurological conditions // panic disorder , adhd, borderline personality disorder, ptsd sleeping habits // sleep is for the weak eating habits // omnivore ; eating is often controlled by mood exercise habits //  he lift, he train, he fight emotional stability // pretty uh ;;;; pretty fuckin’ unstable lmao sociability // loves being around the people he cares about ! others –not so much.

FAMILY

parent(s)// Stephen & Celine Herondale , Valentine Morgenstern (as Michael Wayland–foster father), Robert & Maryse Lightwood (adoptive parents) sibling(s) // Alexander Gideon, Isabelle Sophia & Maxwell Joseph Lightwood (adoptive siblings) significant other(s) // Clarissa Fairchild child(ren) // n/a

SOCIAL STATUS

financial //  WEALTHY / moderate / poor / in poverty medical //  FIT / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged class or caste //  UPPER / middle / working / slave / unsure education //  QUALIFIED / unqualified / studying

BELIEFS

general // monotheistic ; Christian based belief in ghosts or spirits //  YES / no / don’t know / don’t care. belief in an afterlife //  yes / no / DON’T KNOW / don’t care. belief in reincarnation //  yes / no / DON’T KNOW / don’t care. belief in aliens //  yes / no / DON’T KNOW / don’t care. belief in karma //  yes / no / DON’T KNOW / don’t care. religious //  orthodox / liberal / in between / NOT RELIGIOUS.

PERSONALITY

mbti // enfp hogwarts house // slytherin moral alignment // true neutral

ROMANTIC / SEXUAL INCLINATIONS

romantic orientation// demiromantic sexual orientation // bisexual polyamorous or monogamous // monogamous

PREFERENTIAL TENDENCIES

extroverted / INTROVERTED / in between DISORGANIZED / organized / in between CLOSE MINDED / open-minded / in between CALM / anxious / in between DISAGREEABLE / agreeable / in between cautious / RECKLESS / in between patient / IMPATIENT / in between OUTSPOKEN / reserved / in between LEADER / follower / in between empathetic / unemphatic / IN BETWEEN optimistic / PESSIMISTIC / in between TRADITIONAL / modern / in between hard-working / lazy / IN BETWEEN cultured / un-cultured / in between / UNKNOWN LOYAL / disloyal / unknown faithful / unfaithful / UNKNOWN

VICES

drinking alcohol //  never / sometimes / FREQUENTLY / to excess. smoking //  NEVER / sometimes / frequently / to excess. other narcotics //  NEVER / sometimes / frequently / to excess. indulgent food //  never / SOMETIMES / frequently / to excess. splurge spending // NEVER / sometimes / frequently / to excess. gambling //  never / SOMETIMES / frequently / to excess. violence //  never / sometimes / frequently / TO EXCESS.

[ofmenandangelsa]

clary fairchild

main verse // show + headcanon based. 

disclaimer: all information provided is for main verse; may vary depending on verse.

BASIC INFORMATION

full name // clarissa adele fairchild (fray, morgenstern)  nicknames or aliases or titles // clary  age and birthday // 18 ; 23 aug 1998 home // new york city, new york  current location // new york city, new york pronouns and gender  // she/her, cis woman occupation // shadowhunter, artist language(s) spoken // english accent // very generic new york accent

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

faceclaim // katherine mcnamara hair colour // red eye colour // green height // 5′5 build // stronk but not beefy distinguishing features // runes, hair 

ADDITIONAL CHARACTERISTICS

physical conditions // various scars from battle neurological conditions // ptsd sleeping habits // has to sleep under a massive pile of blankets  eating habits // vegetarian  exercise habits // she train, she run, she fight emotional stability // PRETTY GOOD FOR THE SHIT SHE’S DEALT WITH  sociability // pretty friggin social 

FAMILY

parent(s)// Valentine Morgenstern & Jocelyn Fairchild sibling(s) // Jonathon Christopher Morgenstern (older brother)  significant other(s) // n/a child(ren) // n/a 

SOCIAL STATUS

financial //  wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty medical //  fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged class or caste //  upper / middle / working / slave / unsure education //  qualified / unqualified / studying

BELIEFS

general // christian based monothiestic belief in ghosts or spirits //  yes / no / don’t know / don’t care. belief in an afterlife //  yes / no / don’t know / don’t care. belief in reincarnation //  yes / no / don’t know / don’t care. belief in aliens //  yes / no / don’t know / don’t care. belief in karma //  yes / no / don’t know / don’t care. religious //  orthodox / liberal / in between / not religious.

PERSONALITY

mbti // infp hogwarts house // slytherin moral alignment // chatoic good

ROMANTIC / SEXUAL INCLINATIONS

romantic orientation// homoromantic sexual orientation // homosexual  polyamorous or monogamous // monogamous 

PREFERENTIAL TENDENCIES

extroverted / introverted / in between disorganized / organized / in between close minded / open-minded / in between calm / anxious / in between disagreeable / agreeable / in between cautious / reckless / in between patient / impatient / in between outspoken / reserved / in between leader / follower / in between empathetic / unemphatic / in between optimistic / pessimistic / in between traditional / modern / in between hard-working / lazy / in between cultured / un-cultured / in between / unknown loyal / disloyal / unknown faithful / unfaithful / unknown

VICES

drinking alcohol //  never / sometimes / frequently / to excess. smoking //  never / sometimes / frequently / to excess. other narcotics //  never / sometimes / frequently / to excess. indulgent food //  never / sometimes / frequently / to excess. splurge spending // never / sometimes / frequently / to excess. gambling //  never / sometimes / frequently / to excess. violence //  never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

[ktheist]

muses. brother’s best friend / housemate / touchy!yoongi

min yoongi was everything you hated in a man. clingy, sleeps too much and sloth-y. if anyone had eyes, they’d know that you’re a clingy hug away from committing murder on campus.

“hey, pumpkin,” a dead weight snakes around your shoulders and a hand wraps around your wrist, directing the fry you’re about to pop into your mouth to his mouth.

“what the-” venom drips off your words.

“babe, i missed you!” jennie whines, wounding her arm around min yoongi’s friend, who happens to be her boyfriend.

in fact, your world going down a wayward spiral started with jennie’s secretive ‘i’m texting a boy, he’s kinda cute!’ to a full out ‘i’m dating kim taehyung!’ a month later. and with that, came the grueling begging of her trying to get you to agree to go to dinner as a ‘her friends meets his friends’ kind of thing.

you thought to put up with it once but for some reason, after a few hang outs too many, min yoongi has come to calling you a ridiculous nickname and putting his hands on you whenever he sees you.

“they’re so in love, aren’t they?” the boy next to you snickers while his free hand snakes down to your thigh.

“what do you think you’re doing?”

the whine that slips out of his mouth doesn’t bring you satisfaction even if you’re the one who opt for pinching his hand with all your might.

he looks at you, eyes looking like the midnight lake, sparkling with moonlight, “my hand slipped. did you have to pinch me that hard?”

“oh hey, lisa,” hoseok greets your blonde haired, doll-like friend, “we’re having a match with xxx university, you wanna join?”

at the mention of the long standing rival of your uni, lisa’s delicate features break into that of an angel of death, “the fuck? they have the nerve to fuck with us? that-”

“oh wow, she’s fired up, isn’t she?” yoongi chuckles, his breath fanning your cheek.

you still your hand from coming up to fan your face. why is it hot all of a sudden?

“yeah, her ex-best friend goes there and they’ve been competing against each other in dance ever since,” you say plainly, not realizing it’d spark a different kind of fire.

a loud smack echoes in the air as you look at the hand on the table and up at the owner of said hands, “we were never friends! let alone best friends!”

“o-oh yeah, my bad, you and your non-best friend’s been trying to take each other down since you both left high school,” you lean backwards to widen the distance between her hand and your face but consequentially, you end up leaning into min yoongi who gladly welcomes you into his arms, locking his hands together over your chest and trapping you in a hug.

“so, you guys gonna practice before the match?” yoongi’s ask is what makes her snap her head at the man happily munching on her meal after she had her attention averted to a certain non-best friend.

“hobi, we’re gonna practice till our limbs feel like falling off,” and with that, she drags the man away, his whines and begging to finish the (her) food falling on deaf ears.

for the briefest moment, things seem to have calmed down. that is, until you turn your head to the smiley boy clinging onto you like a koala.

“what? i saved you from lisa’s wrath.” he states, as if sensing your own wrath coming to surface if he doesn’t-

“get off me,” you order, glaring daggers at the boy.

“make me,” he smirks, the gummy smile now gone and for some reason, your heart’s beating too fast than your body can handle.

“seriously, what’s wrong with you? jimin’s right there, why can’t you go and cling onto him? at least he’s your friend. i barely even know you,” you sigh, feeling his arms loosening around you yet your chest is the one clenching as he drops his gaze.

“___, you’re breaking my heart,” he bumps his head to yours, those dark brown eyes glinting with a sort of deviousness that you know will do you no good if you hang around him any longer, “especially when we’ve kn-”

“my class is starting in ten.”

he doesn’t stop you when you stand up, his arms slipping away from your body like withered vines on stone wall.

that’s the last you see of min yoongi. well, until you’re walking out of the ecology club, fist smacking against that sore spot on your shoulder as you trail behind your club mates. the meeting about the outdoor event to raise awareness on carbon print ended a little later than you thought it would and by the end of it, everyone’s like a walking corpse.

“i thought you’d never come out,” a voice husks from behind you as your body freezes and your heart jumps to your throat.

“what the fuck, min yoongi?” you glare at the gummy smiley boy who doesn’t seem to bear an ounce of guilt for causing your soul to astral project into oblivion.

“did i scare you?” he chuckles, “don’t worry, johnny won’t get you as long as i’m here.”

“johnny?” you feel your eyebrows coming together in annoyance rather than confusion.

“you know, the ghost that’s living in the ecology club room,” he raises his eyebrows twice as if insinuating something.

you scoff.

“oh yoongi, you’re been waiting for ___?” jisoo waves from a few steps ahead, “you guys going back together?”

“no- wait-” you’re about to run after your friends when an arm wraps around your waist and pulls you to a warm body.

“yeah, drive safe guys!” the boy waves, smiling that stupid smile until the car’s out of sight.

placing one hand on his chest, you push him away from you until you’re at least three feet apart, “seriously, why’d you have to wait for me? i could’ve gone home on my own.”

“what do you mean why? because i wanted to see you sooner,” he grins, arms wrapping around your waist as he rests his chin on top of your head.

“w-what the hell,” you fumble with your words, turning away as your cheeks flare up with warmth, “let’s just go,” you say, holding onto yoongi’s pinky finger and dragging him with you.

you get home before 10 o’clock despite yoongi’s whining to take the longer route home along the river.

“oh, you’re back? whew, i was worried there for a sec,” seokjin’s voice rings throughout the house as he greets you from his room, “but i shouldn’t be since yoongi’s with you. it’s lucky you guys got into the same uni.”

“i could’ve gone home with my friends,” you say almost sulkily, glaring at the boy who’s walking towards his own room as if he’s ready to black out as soon as his head hits the pillow.

“yoongi, you’re not gonna have dinner?” seokjin asks.

“nah, i’ll sleep first.” and with that, the door of the room across from your brother’s clicks shut.

“he really needs to get his sleep schedule fixed,” the older man shakes his head whilst you place the plate of fried rice seokjin made into the microwave.

“let him be, he’s a grown man, he can take care of himself. you cooking for him is more than-” you can’t even finish your sentence when seokjin’s fast padded footsteps crosses the hallway and to the kitchen. hands shaking your body more than an earthquake could.

 “___, do you... do you really see yoongi as a man? are you guys dating?!” seokjin’s concerned gaze bores into yours, offering you no escape unless you answer him.

“no? i mean, he’s grown - we all grew up, seokjin, we’re in uni,” you say in a matter of factly. every once in awhile, seokjin gets a wake up call that-

“oh thank god,” he envelops you into a bear hug, “i thought my baby sister was interested in my best friend.”

well, guess that wake up call just got pushed back.

you suppose you get where seokjin’s coming from. just three little kids with mismatched ages growing up together in the same neighborhood. you climb trees together, scrape your knees falling off the swings and treat each other to health.

but it was seokjin who introduced you to yoongi. back then, whoever knew whoever first, got the first friend privilege. it was just some dumb rules the kids from the neighborhood came up with. and everyone wanted to be friends with min yoongi who had the chubbiest cheeks and the cutest smile. but seokjin always prided himself to be yoongi’s best friends and the latter never denied it. in a way, the two of them had a sort of bond that nobody could touch, let alone break.

something like brothers for life kind of thing.

because of that, min yoongi had always been your brother’s best friend. 

“___, you’re not asleep yet?” a voice rings from behind you where the hallway to your bedrooms lie.

“i’ve got some club stuff to settle,” you say, not away from your laptop as you sit on the spot between the couch and coffee table. an energy drink a few inches away.

“you’re always so busy,” tresses of soft hair tickles your cheek as a head leans on your shoulder, the warmth of another body making you all warm inside.

you sigh, a smile playing on your lips. at times like this, when min yoongi’s barely awake - there’s no way you can push him away, is there?

“you’re the one that has too much free time on your hand,” you say, shaking your head.

the sound of the tapping keyboard fills the otherwise silent room. you thought he’d fallen asleep with his head on your shoulder.

“...you...” he murmurs under his breath, “...i like you.”

your cheeks heat up, body instinctively recoiling from the body that’s leaned up against you as if - as if you’re just realizing that min yoongi is, in every sense of nature, a man.

a shirtless man, at that.

it wasn’t unusual to see him and your brother walking around shirtless since there’s not much to see. but you’ve always known yoongi’s not half bad, he’s got some underlying abs from those days of playing basketball in high school and he’s in the basketball team in uni.

so why are you getting all embarrassed seeing a shirtless min yoongi stare up at you like he’s waiting for you to say something that will make him or break him - now?

x

note. a little skit from my fried brain. hope yall enjoyed!

[thedevilsmemes]

      PINTEREST QUOTES I USE IN MY MUSINGS BOARDS                         ~ A SENTENCE MEME - PART 2

                         Change pronouns as / when needed to preferred pronoun.

“I do not do justice, I do damage. I do not do empathy, I do damage. I do not do forgiveness, I do damage. I do not do mercy, I do damage.”

“Like, you can boss me around in sexual situations but you better not try to tell me what to do in regular life.”

“I’m fine, I’ve had worse.”

“I’m meaner than my demons.”

“If I cannot bend Heaven, I will raise Hell.”

“Well, aren’t you a little ray of pitch black?”

“He was like a storm.”

“You want to play dirty? Fine, let’s play dirty!”

{ feels an emotion. } “Who the fuck authorised this?!”

“What the fuck? What the fuck is this? What the fuck?”

“Judge if you want. We are all going to die. I intend to deserve it.”

“Goddamn right you should be scared of me.”

“They wanted a monster; I decided to give them one.”

“Seduce and destroy.”

“What the fuck is intimacy? How does that work? Letting… people be close to you? What the fuck?”

“You couldn’t kill me if you tried for one hundred years.”

“I’ll do this my way.”

“I am severely emotionally unstable.”

“What, from the bottom of the heart, the fuck?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t take any orders. I barely take suggestions.”

“I send my best regards from Hell.”

“I like my coffee how I like myself: Dark, bitter and too hot for you.”

“Me and God, we don’t get along.”

“Be brave, Angel.”

“Self care is drinking three pots of coffee and getting into a knife fight with God.”

{ takes gulp of vodka straight from the bottle } “My day was fine.”

“Have I stabbed you? No. Then I am being nice.”

“Holy Shit! I’M the demon living in my house.”

“Sir, that’s my emotional support knife collection.”

“I want an ancient elaborate dagger with my name engraved into the blade as a gift. The only romantic gesture.”

“ ‘Are you a top or a bottom?’ I'm a threat!”

“Stop being so defensive! I’m just trying to hit you with weapons.”

“The more knives you have the more valid you are.”

“She’s strong but she’s exhausted.”

“She loves moonlight and rainstorms and so many other things that have soul.”

“My darling, you can’t see it can you? How like the moon you are. Both of you so timid in yourselves; hiding pieces from the world. Then, there are those rare moments when you are both full, and it becomes hard to look away. You are beautiful.”

“Calm her chaos but never silence her storm.”

“She wears strength and darkness equally well. That girl has always been half Goddess, half Hell.”

“She has been through Hell, so believe me when I say, fear her when she looks into the fire and smiles.”

“She’s proof that you can walk through Hell and still be an angel.”

“She is both hellfire and holy water. And the flavour you taste depends on how you treat her.”

“Even the mountains can not hold all you have been carrying.”

“Storm with skin.”

“She’s thunderstorms”

“Kindness is a language that the deaf can hear and the blind can see.”

“Sometimes it takes only one act of kindness and caring to change a person’s life.”

“You have a heart of gold.”

“Butterflies are the Heaven-sent kisses of an angel.”

“She who is brave is free.”

“Clever as the Devil and twice as pretty.”

“Shut up. I wear heels bigger than your dick.”

“Girls who run in heels should be feared.”

“Family is everything to me.”

“She’s an old soul that believes in chivalry, romance, and love.”

“I hate getting flashbacks from things I don’t want to remember.”

“I run on coffee and grace.”

“I’m glad I’ve got boobs… the last thing I need is people making eye contact with me.”

“Tell me to put on my big girl panties one more time… and I’ll take off my thong and strangle you with it!”

“Please read all my posts in a sarcastic tone. You know, for full effect.”

“I have one nerve left and you’re dry-humping it, go away.”

“If I offend you, cry me a river. I’ll bring snacks and a raft. I will literally float down your tears, eating chips and working on my tan.”

“When she is happy, she can’t stop talking. When she is sad, she doesn’t say a word.”

“Music becomes my best friend when nobody else understands me.”

“Act like a lady, think like a boss.”

“I know I have friends but I feel I have no one to talk to about the shit that goes on in my head.”

“She was special. She combined a mean angel and a kind devil.”

“So much pain for someone so young.”

“She’s one of a kind.”

“Red lips and wine sips.”

“Brave girl, it’s time to love again.”

“She is intelligent.”

“Sometimes, when I say ‘I’m okay.’ I want someone to look me in the eyes, hug me tight, and say, ‘I know you’re not.’ ”

“Because I’m not the kind of girl guys fall in love with.”

“I fear I will spend my life, waiting for a love story that doesn’t exist.”

“You’re a woman, use it; bring every man you meet to his motherfucking knees.”

“She denies it but, the truth is, she’s falling in love with him.”

“Hearing your heels click on the floor sounds like power.”

“She loves deeply, regardless of the love she gets back in return and it’s both her biggest strength and biggest weakness…”

“Experience raised her. Hurt taught her. Neither defined her.”

“She was not fragile like a flower was, she was fragile like a bomb.”

“Life is short; make every hair flip count.”

“I’ve always been someone who looks ‘too deep’ into something or someone. That’s because I realised from a young age that there’s always more than what meets the eye.”

“If I say ‘first of all’ Run away because I have prepared research, data, charts, and will destroy you.”

“Underestimate me, that’ll be fun.”

“You think I’m sarcastic? You should hear what I don’t say!”

“She’s a combination of sensitive and savage.”

“Stay classy, sassy and a bit bad assy.”

“She’s battling things her smile will never tell you about.”

 “Ain't you ever seen a princess be a bad bitch?”

“I was told I was dangerous… I asked why? They said ‘because you don’t need anyone.’ That’s when I smiled.”

“She’s been through hell and came out an angel. You didn’t break her darling, you don’t own that kind of power.”

“Watch me. I will go to my own sun and, if I am burned by the flames, I will fly on scorched wings.”

“Her messy hair is a visible attribute to her stubborn spirit. As she shakes it free, she smiles, knowing wild is her favourite colour.”

“She’s strong. But in the back of her mind she doesn’t think that she was meant to be this strong for this long. And she wonders if there is a man out there, somewhere, who understands this.”

“She’s not for everyone and she knows it. People find her different and strange. She dances in the rain, she laughs when she cries and loves through her pain. People fear the unknown and they never knew a girl like her.”

“Don’t tell a girl with fire in her veins and hurricane bones what she should and shouldn’t do. In the blink of an eye, she will shatter that ridiculous cage you attempt to build around her beautiful bohemian spirit.”

“You provoke her until she roars and then get upset at her for becoming the monster you created.”

“Rip out his ego with your fresh nails.”

“She isn’t the sunrise; she’s the fucking sun.”

“You can’t touch a woman who can wear pain like the grandest of diamonds around her neck.”

“Watch your tongue around her. She will bear her fangs and tear you apart with all the grace of a Queen.” 

“If you won’t embrace her madness, then you’ll never taste her magic.”

“Beauty may be dangerous but intelligence is lethal.”

“She is water. Powerful enough to drown you, soft enough to cleanse you, deep enough to save you.”

“Heavy is the crown and yet she wears it as if it were a feather. There is strength in her heart, determination in her eyes and the will to survive resides within her soul.”

“I wish that I could say that I am a light that never goes out, but I flicker from time to time.”

“Spoil me with loyalty. I can finance myself.”

“Shoutout to all the people with brown hair and brown eyes! We basic as fuck but we cute!”

“I feel a nap coming on.”

“Is horny an emotion?”

“I just really like thigh-highs.”

“Even though she looks innocent, she is really a perverted demon.”

“She didn’t sob or wail. Her pain was horribly discreet but as persistent and almost as silent as bleeding from an unstitched wound.”

“I don’t rise from the ashes, I make them. I’m the whole fucking fire.”

“Beautiful but destructive.”

“I’m aiming for the ‘she’s a badass and cute as hell but I wouldn’t touch her without asking’ look.”

“Loving me must be so fucking hard and I’m so sorry.”

“Some women are lost in the fire. Some women are built from it.”

“You glow differently when you’re actually happy.”

“She’s magic, that one.”

“Kicked out of Hell.”

“Red hair: the crown you never take off.”

“You’ve got a fire inside.”

“She doesn’t need a warrior, she is one. What she needs is a devout heart, and strong arms to hold her after her battles are won.”

“You are the love that came without warning: You had my heart before I could say no.”

“You want battle? I’ll give you war.”

“True evil is, above all things, seductive.”

“The Devil’s got nothing on me, my friend.”

“Haven’t I fallen far enough?”

“I’m not like them, but I can pretend.”

“I don’t like being told what to do.”

“Now I grow wings and rage, and learn how to kill.”

“Life is tough, my darling, but so are you.”

“Though she be little, she be fierce.”

“I know what this is; It’s just myself, talking to myself, about myself.”

“You underestimate my power.”

[m88n]

[11.06 pm]

“Wanna drink?”

Your ears perk up at Johnny’s remark, as he breaks the silence by hovering over his teal-colored mini fridge. You met Johnny at this summer camp from some university club, and you guys bonded over some drinks there (you cried a little because you’re an emotional drunk) and before you know it, you’re crashing into his dorm room tonight just because you have time to spare and he told you he’s free via text. But with the entire setting of the summer camp removed, you discover that making conversation becomes a little bit more of a problem than you both initially thought—that is, until alcohol was brought to the picture.

“Yeah. Love drinking. You know I do,” You eagerly respond. He beams at you with a knowing nod.

“Aye, yeah our soju queen. One sip y/n.” He recalls as he opens up two new bottles of soju, handing one over to you.

“Shut up,” You joke with a smile, “We had a great time cause of my drunk antics, you gotta admit.”

“Yeah, was pretty cool when you chased me to the boys’ bathroom just to force me to talk about my repressed feelings.” He says mockingly, but with affection.

“You did talk about them though! And you even cried with me too!” You insist.

Johnny chuckles as he sits across you on the carpeted floor, taking a sip, “Alright, but I wasn’t the one who sobbed on the bottom bunk right after we went back to our room.”

“…Shit, you heard me cry?” You say, wide-eyed in realization.

“Yeah, everyone in that room heard it.” He says laughing, nudging you to drink from your bottle, and you finally took a sip.

“…Damn, and I thought everyone was asleep…” You mutter in thought, face blushing pink from the alcohol—and the embarrassment. “I just have a lot of feelings, man… You know how it goes.”

Johnny lays on his side, hand cradling his head as he looks at you. “Yeah, I know. You were cute.”

You stare at him for a second, flustered at his sudden remark, “Don’t give me that bro… It’s embarrassing.” You finally respond.

“Aw cmon y/n, I thought we’re way past that. You massaged me and everything.” He teases you.

You furrow your brows at the memory—that’s always been your underhanded technique when you’re flirting with someone, but you were drunk. So you’re not completely sure what to make out of that, and just decide to brush any complicated feelings aside.

“I did tell you it was a platonic massage when I massaged you!” You finally say, pointing accusingly at him with your free hand.

Johnny scoffs incredulously. “What’s a platonic massage anyway…” He sips from his bottle, “You’re really good though.”

You wink, “I know.”

Both of you continue to drink and chat until even Johnny’s exhibited some slurred speech. It took him more than two bottles to get to this point, while for you, one bottle was plenty enough. At this point, both of you have heightened emotionality and vulnerability due to the effects of the alcohol, and are quickly heading towards exchanging deeper conversations—and gazes—as you do.

“…You know, I just feel this desperate need to make people feel good, to help people, it makes me feel really happy.” You say, head floating in the clouds. “That’s why, I feel like I could sense you repressing stuff, and really went for it.”

Johnny chuckles. “What about you though?”

“Huh?”

“What about what makes you feel good?” He clarifies.

You narrow your eyes. “Are you making a move on me when I’m trynna be all honest, Mr. John Suh?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “Hey, as far as I’m concerned, my question’s genuine. Not that I’d oppose to that if offered—How do you think you’re going to know what you need when you look out for others so much?”

You decide to ignore his suggestive remark and try to respond to the rest as coherently as possible, “I… I don’t know. I guess that’s where I’ve come to derive my self-worth from.” You manage to say softly, eyes half-lidded, head pleasantly buzzing with the high yet mingling with the dawning realization for the issue Johnny’s brought upon you.

Johnny nods at you, listening.

You bite the lid of the bottle that you’ve been sipping from before saying, “I don’t think I really even know myself that well. I mean, I guess I do, but it’s like, the feeling of knowing someone but not really. Feeling so physically close to yourself but so far removed from the actual contents of the depths of your mind and soul. You know?”

Johnny nods again, silent, before finally saying with heavy lidded eyes, “…Repression, am I right?”

You look at him wide-eyed, as he smiles a little.

“How the turn tables—” He manages to finish before you smack his arm gently.

“I knew you’d say that... Shut up,” You say, a smile threatening to break onto your face. He responds with a hearty chuckle.

“Hey that one’s a classic, cmon. I guess now’s my turn to play shrink,” He jokes, “Alright, do you even know your own qualities, like, what makes y/n, y/n, you get me?”

You narrow your eyes, as if it would help with clearing your intoxicated mind for a more thorough analysis into your own entire being. Johnny leans against his bed, arms crossed, patiently waiting for your response.

“…Erm… Well I guess I could be pretty nice,” You muse, “…Pretty artsy…. Pretty…. Pretty? Hahah nah, jokes…” You say, chuckling to yourself as you continue to dig for answers.

Johnny just smiles, before saying, “Hey, be confident. This is you we’re talking about.”

“….What do you mean by that?” You ask thoughtlessly, still swimming in inebriation and confusion for your own identity.

“I mean, I think you’re pretty cool.” He says to you straightforwardly, “Wouldn’t have bailed on my guys if I didn’t think so.” You follow his movements as he lights a joint after saying that with complete lightness, which takes you absolutely off guard.

“Wait, but I thought you were free?” You finally ask.

“We wouldn’t hang if I told you that. You’re never free.” He says, exhaling a puff, then offering you to take a hit, to which you accept. “If I don’t bail on my guys, you’d bail on me.”

“… You have a point,” You exhale, “Honestly, it’s really just cause I enjoy my time alone. Apart from all the responsibility stuff.”

He nods, “Fair.”

“To answer your question though,” You continue, “I mean—since you think I’m pretty cool ahah,” You joke, looking at him for any reaction, continuing after he lets out a chuckle, “What do you think?”

He takes a long drag from the joint, “Hey, this is about self-awareness!” He finally quips, chains of smoke spreading with his every breath.

“Aw cmon, whatever, I just want to feel good,” You say, “You were asking me what’ll make me feel good, this’ll make me feel good.”

He narrows his eyes, sighs defeatedly, all while smiling at your clever remark. “Fine, you got me.”

You wear a shit-eating grin with the small victory, expectantly waiting for his continuation.

“I think you’re as real as it goes,” He says, maintaining a steady gaze towards your eyes, “You’re really genuine, interesting, and you have the power to move people. Not that you’re aware of. Too kind to others, sometimes you forget to save some for yourself,”

You were not expecting such a thoughtful answer, your cheeks flush a deeper pink—and not from the alcohol.

“So, you gotta work on that. Super talented. Really attractive too,” He lightly adds.

You stop him in his tracks by shyly shoving the palm of your hand in between you two, “Whoa, whoa, stop, you like me or something? This might as well be a confession, am I right or what,” You joke, feeling too flustered by the string of compliments he let out.

He does not reciprocate your laughs, instead smiling. Your eyes widen with his lack of response. He looks at the ceiling, hand rubbing his jaw in thought, before his gaze snaps right back to your eyes with gentle conviction.

“But would you still bail on me if I ask you on a date though?”

[morganas-pendragons]

Trace | Hunter

Fic #2 - this one is for the ad’ika, @kryptonian-sith​ - and features Hunter, another character I have not written for. This batch of fic I’m dishing out might be the softest things I’ve ever done. 

I have seen this concept done for characters from other fandoms before, but not this one, so I ran with it. I hope you enjoy!

***

His skin is soft. That’s the first thing you notice when you touch Hunter’s face. Your fingertips dance across the slope of his nose, noticing the tiniest scar that your thumb hits when you touch it. It’s not noticeable to most people. 

It is to you. You make a note to ask him about how he’d obtained it. 

Your fingertips trace across his cheekbones, down his cheek, across the stubble that’s begun to line his jaw, around the shape of his lips - which you are growing more and more desperate to see if they taste like you imagine they do -  and upward to trace the shape of each eye that remains closed as he sleeps. 

  “Hey you,” It’s early morning in the cottage that you and Hunter have rented for the weekend, the sunlight of Alderaan just barely peeking over the horizon as he rouses from his sleep. The hills and mountains are peaked with snow that stretches out as far as the eye can see. The air is crisp and cold. You’ve never been happier even without being able to see it.. “What-What are you doing?” 

  “You’ve always been hesitant about me touching you.” You murmur, tilting your head to rest it against your shoulder as you slowly - he cannot do fast movements, so you’ve been deliberate in ensuring you don’t overload his senses - settle yourself down into his lap. “I don’t know why.” 

Ever the bashful, Hunter’s gaze slips to the fireplace on the opposite side of the room. “You know what I want to know?” He muses, desperately trying to deflect the subject matter to something else. “How does a Jedi do Jedi stuff while being blind? It’s incomprehensible to me.” 

  “That’s a big word for you.” 

  “Shut up.” 

Laughter bubbles past your lips as you lean forward and put your hands in their former spots. “This skin is raised. It feels older.” You whisper, grimacing as a brisk wind slips through the slightly opened window on the opposite side of the room. A quick snap of your fingers rectifies that. “What is it?” 

What you’ve managed to find is his tattoo. You can tell by the texture of the thing that it covers a significant portion of his face, and a deeper part of you wishes that you were able to see and admire it with your own eyes. 

You do something better. You use the Force to see him. 

  “It’s a skull. It’s kind of The Batch’s... thing.” Hunter takes your hand in his own and uncurls your fingers before pressing a kiss into the center of your palm. Your heart swells at the motion. It had taken him a significant amount of time to be able to accept physical affection, but he’d opened up to the opportunity so quickly with you. “Do you know what I look at when I see you?” 

  “Humor me.” You muse. “A blind Jedi? A good looking blind Jedi? Your Jedi?” 

  “Exactly.” 

Your heart drops right into your stomach. The two of you may have been together for a while by now, and you’re hiding away from the Empire in this cottage on Alderaan in what may be the best version of a future you will ever have with him, but you’ve never admitted to one another that you were theirs. “Hunter-” You falter. 

The Sergeant catches your hands in his own and rests them against his face, suppressing a shiver as your thumb catches the divot in his lip. “You are ner jeti. I’ve been wanting to say that a while. Guess I was afraid to.” He laughs softly and exhales through his nose at a very slow, steady pace. “I’ve never had anything that was mine before. Kaminoans made sure of it. Then you came storming into my life and created chaos and you just fit in so well with my vode. They knew I was in love with you before I ever did.” Tears blur your eyes as Hunter’s hands skim your thighs and travel upward until they’re tangling in your hair and urging you downward until you’re just a breadth apart and you’re flying. “And now we’re here.” 

Now we’re here at the end of the world, when all we’ve ever known has faded into the background, and we’re mid-scene so we can make this decision that will affect the rest of our lives. 

You hum thoughtfully beneath your breath and slowly sink into The Force so you can see him. He’s regarding you with wide vulnerable eyes, lips parted and heart pounding as he waits for the reaction to his confession. 

Will you love me as desperately as I’ve allowed myself to love you? 

You’ve never really needed The Force to see Hunter, to feel him. He’s a beacon among his brothers. The one who always looks out for the little guy - the one who’d tear the galaxy apart if it meant his loved ones were safe - and that was what had drawn you to him in the first place. 

His undying loyalty. To them, and now.. to you. 

With your fingers tangled in his hair, you use your other hand to tilt his chin upward and whisper, “Yes.” before claiming his mouth with your own. “Now we’re here.” 

Unknown to Sergeant Hunter of Clone Force 99, the person he loves in that moment of coming together when the entire galaxy is splitting apart is the same day they imprint themselves, their soul, onto his own. 

You are bonded. Both of you. 

From now until forever... and as you curl into his side and Hunter’s gaze falls upon those snow-peaked mountains, he thinks that when the inevitable war is over that he could settle himself here. Forever in the mountains of Alderaan sounds like a dream that he’s aching to chase. 

  “Here I come.” He whispers before the warmth of your body and the roaring fire in the corner draws the both of you back under. 

And oh.. how he will run.