ninety-two;

pwj | 17 | gravity manip.

[avtsparrow-blog]

++ void.

[time flies really fast;  i’m always running out of breath chasing after things. — yosm, kanto ft. woozi]

he is a thing of of the wind — hard to pin down, reality tearing at its seams around every fiber of his being.

he is a particle of light floating above the atmosphere, chained to the soil by a thin ribbon unraveling around his ankle, the silky texture slipping from his chafed skin.

he is a sinking ship, eroded by the vicious bite of winter water, wood softening and breaking down bit by bit, a blur between a rickety contraption made of oak and the leftovers of a wreckage.

woojin’s breaths are heavy, heavier than when he normally lay sprawled across the studio floor; his half-closed eyes barely remain open in the blinding brightness that dotted the gray-colored ceiling spreading across his vision.

the lights are electric stars that guide his way in reality, and he reaches out towards them, watching as the rays of burning white are eclipsed by the shadow induced by his hand. he tilts it, curling and uncurling his fingers in a languid stupor.

maybe if he closed them quickly enough, he would catch some of that light.

his eyelashes flutter tentatively, breathing slowing and allowing him some semblance of peace in the stifling silence.

it occurs to him then, suddenly, that he wished to feel alive, that he was tired of living a life where he simply stood and let everything pass him by until he was watching his own reflection moving in the mirror and all of his thoughts were locked away in the recesses of his mind.

a quiet whisper.

it tells him that quite simply, it is easy to feel something. so why was it that he felt nothing?

if he isn’t human, if he isn’t a monster, what does that make him?

is he an empty shell? is he even real?

he never wished to feel so numb. he never asked to be so distant from everything around him. his heart is heavier than stone, and yet, he doesn’t understand why the only passion he felt was when he was dancing.

woojin thinks, as he shuts off the studio’s lights with his jacket half on and headphones slipping from his ears, extinguishing the grayscale sky, that maybe a day will come where he does understand. 

maybe that will be the key to his happiness.

[avtsparrow-blog]

++ misguided | pwj & pjm

[avtsparrow-blog]

pjmavt:

(...)

Jimin’s mundane thoughts were cut short when his chest throbbed at being near his destination, finding a person, near him and if their aura was anything to go by, they had been quite frightened, meaning they seen him already. Fuck. Jimin sighed, and though he could not pinpoint where the person was exactly, he’d like to hope his eyes pointed in the general direction. He opened plump lips to speak, “there’s no headstones there,” were his first words, referring to the area the person seemed to be, kind of lame in his own opinion but it was too late to take them back now, “what’s your business here? If it’s just to mess around, well don’t even waste my time answering. please leave.” 

he swears that he didn’t mean to, really. he didn’t mean to intrude onto the property of the dead, never intended to desecrate the delicate world of grief and poignant traces of memories that he had come across. 

but here he was, hands red and yet white at the same time, awaiting the consequences of his foolishness as if they were to be served to him upon a silver platter.

the only correct remedy to this situation is to run.

that’s what he heard his own mind urge his body to do - and yet he stands stock still, an out of place statue that was breathing too much to be dead like the rest.

perhaps he was to become one of those headstones if he stuck around any longer.

but the gravelly shadow speaks, and he hears the disdain loud and clear, feeling a pair of strangely aloof eyes focusing upon his figure. woojin masks his fear with his own set of blank orbs, face unchanging in response to the words.

say something, or run. no in between.

but he does nothing. he can’t unfreeze the hands of the clock in his world, can’t untie the anchor around his leg that insists on pulling him into the soil and consuming him whole.

he wants to move, he really does. he wants to turn around and flee, as if he had never been there in the first place. but instead, he feels his lips moving on their own, hears his own hoarse voice calling out in response to the request that he leave - one that he was quite keen on following. 

“s-sorry.”

but i can’t. 

he can’t move. he’s too scared. the invisible claws sink deeper into his legs, keeping him stuck to the ground, and he tastes iron on his tongue, realizing that he had been gnawing at his bottom lip furiously to take an edge off of the panic and terror.

“i...went the wrong way.”

[avtsparrow-blog]

++ head down.

a riot is not a thing of sophistication; it is the summation of mankind’s animosity.

he doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he’s asphyxiated by his own indifference, vision blurry and head woozy.

his eyelashes flutter once, then twice; and he continues to stiffly place one foot in front of the other, stepping once, twice, thrice, until he feels himself quickening his pace in response to the throbbing that consumed his entire being. suddenly, the numbers are too small, his steps too few, and the distance between him and this monstrosity is much too minuscule for him to bear.

the ground is pulling at him. why is it pulling at him?

it’s familiar, the way that something indiscernible wraps itself around his ankles, pulling him further and further down, until he can see the rays of light breaking the transparent surface, watch the ripples becoming smaller and smaller and smaller as he waits to reach the end and break upon impact.

he’s going to fall. fall with the rest of them.

he feels a dull pain in his lip, which he eventually recognizes as his teeth sinking into the sensitive skin to bite away the feeling he knows will overwhelm him and wash him away, encasing the step counter in a thick case of ice. 

don’t feel anything. don’t feel anything.

( float awa - )

but he can’t do that either, can he?

his feet don’t dare to separate from the asphalt, because he knows that he’s not far enough yet, that it’s over once he shows any sign that he might not just be a human, even though he’s just a passerby deathly afraid of the world around him, a passerby who fears that even the clouds will harden and collapse onto him. 

a house of cards, that’s what this place was. and he was the joker.

a paradox, with no reason to be here, or anywhere, really.

then he hears it, a crack that splits the heavens open. screams pour into the air.

and suddenly, there is no counter, there is no ice, there’s just a scared boy running for his life away from the front of the city hall because he doesn’t want to die, but he doesn’t want to pick sides either.

the sky is falling. and it’ll fall right onto him.

[avtsparrow-blog]

++ early bird | pwj & kjw

[avtsparrow-blog]

avtjinwoo:

(...)

“uh, yes?” he pauses only for a moment before realizing this is his perfect chance to get out of this uncomfortable situation. “is there library help you need? another librarian will be able to assist you in just a moment.” he puts on a strained professional smile as he moves to step around the man, hopeful he’ll be left alone. 

exhibit a of why woojin needs to stop jumping around everywhere late at night: he’s about to ask the poor guy if he saw him use his powers, but then he realizes that that’s not how it works, because if he didn’t then that’s another person on the longer-than-it-should-be list of people who know park woojin isn’t the silent, plain human that he always seems to be.

recognizing he only had a few seconds to respond, woojin quickly blurts out a few jumbled words, subconsciously stepping to the side so that he stopped the older male’s movements.

“um. actually, uh...sir?”

sir? mister? dude? dudebro? he didn’t know what the man preferred to be called, or if he even wanted to talk at all, but he brushes it off quickly in favor of continuing his failing attempt at social interaction.

“i don’t, er...need...library help.”

he’s kind of stating the obvious at this point - he probably would have found another librarian if he did, so now he’s kind of standing here really awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck furiously.

“i...uh...did you happen to...um...order food a few days back?”

the answer he expected was most definitely affirmative, but oh boy would it be embarrassing if he was wrong somehow. even though woojin knows he saw the librarian. even though he could still picture the man in his deer onesie almost perfectly, although he still doesn’t know why he even remembers it.

he gnaws at his bottom lip while waiting for a response, snaggletooth peering out nervously. 

maybe he should find a book on social interaction. maybe something about how to ask people questions about whether they saw a strange kid floating around the city - no, not a UFO. maybe he should take a break and think about his life choices. that was also pretty valid.

[park-woojin]

[avtsparrow-blog]

park-woojin:

when I see you, my heart smiles ♡

[avtdino-blog]

coffee rush.

[avtsparrow-blog]

avtdino: 

(...)        he hears the coffee shop door ring, and he straightens himself, ready to take an order. he gives the customer a smile ( customer service was important ), ‘ hello ! how may i take your order? ’

if it wasn’t for the fact that his gravity was quite firmly centered - such was the way of an experienced dancer - woojin probably would have stumbled into the coffee shop like a man drunk on insomnia. he’s tired as hell, which is coincidentally where the concept of school probably came from - having three tests and two projects tomorrow? but why? no self-respecting educational administration would drown their students in papers and unnecessary assignments - oh, wait.

of course, he hadn’t heard about half of the events tomorrow until today, which was terrible because if he had, he wouldn’t have gone home at like two a.m. in the morning and thus would have more than four? five? hours of sleep. but instead, he’s going into a place where he’s never been before, crossing into a territory where the only piece of knowledge he holds is that he needs caffeine now, and he honestly doesn’t care what goes down his esophagus as long as he doesn’t feel like a dead man walking and doesn’t pass out in the next twenty minutes or so.

so he walks up to the guy at the counter with his backpack slung over one shoulder, ap textbook in his right hand, and with eyes that are barely open.

he honestly forgets what comes out of his mouth as soon as it leaves his lips - that’s how sleep-deprived he is, as the last time he remembered even passing six hours of sleep was like...a month ago.

he vaguely remembers saying something along the lines of “cappuccino” (or was it “espresso”? truthfully, he couldn’t understand himself either. oops.), which probably flew right past the barista’s head because wow he cannot speak right now - he’s even worse than usual. 

(good thing for him, there weren’t really a lot of people there to witness his stupidity at the time.)

[avtsparrow-blog]

++ be quiet | pwj & ydw

[avtsparrow-blog]

avtdowoon:

(...)

Leaving for a moment, Dowoon borrowed a post-it note from the front desk and a pen, scribbling out a note as he wandered back to the table and the sleeping teenager. Reading over his note again, he bent over and stuck it to the kid’s forehead before sitting down again and repeating the process from earlier, smacking his textbook down on his thick skull to wake him up again. And when he did he would find a nice note that read the following:

Your invisible friend would like to tell you to stop snoring. 

he wakes up again, this time with a jump and wide eyes. 

the aching is back now, stronger than before; woojin blinks when he sees yellow, brows furrowing at the strange feeling that clung to his forehead.

wait...

rewind two seconds back to the yellow with pigments of white and pastel smelling of old books and public libraries - what?

he reaches a stiff hand towards the strange thing that covered his vision, quickly recognizing it as a sheet of paper - or a sticky note, to be more accurate. the adhesive gives way after a gentle tug, and he squints at the colors that invaded his peripheral. a pen lies on the table in front of his textbook. woojin picks it up and inspects it, trying to recall if he had taken out a pen or not, before remembering that he still had a sticky note in his hand - the origin of which he still had no clue about. 

he reads the handwritten words with a blank expression before its contents hits him hard. invisible friend? what?

woojin massages the spot on his forehead where the note had been roughly, trying to piece together what exactly this note was - if he didn’t know any better, he would have thought it real. despite this, he feels heat creeping up his neck at the comment, not actually knowing that he snored (the more you know though, right?). 

considering he was hit not too long ago, the person who did this was probably still here, right?

completely forgetting the point of the message, which was probably for him to shut up, he calls out into the empty area around him.

“um, hello?”

[wannaoneofficial]

TOMORROWLAND | Do not edit.

[avtsparrow-blog]

++ mixup | pwj & hsh

[avtsparrow-blog]

avthyuk:

(...)

“if you expect me to pay for your mistake that’s not gonna happen.” hand dives in his back pocket to grab his phone, fingers itching to redial the restaurant’s number and speak to the manager. but apparently he’s got anger issues and needs to work on those; getting an innocent delivery boy fired from what is probably his very first part-time job isn’t exactly what one would call improvement.

to be fair, he should probably be panicking right now. there’s this scary dude who's literally looking at him as if he’s a small child who can’t seem to understand a simple problem: this was clearly not the right order.

woojin’s probably reiterated that same phrase within his head a couple hundred times by now in his attempt to find a good response to this blatant issue, but the man looks like he could and would kill him or - beat him up or something; he honestly didn’t want to think about how pitiful it would be to die by angry customer, nonetheless consider that as a possible outcome to this situation if he didn’t play his cards right.

he realizes a bit too late that he’s one step closer to annihilation once the stupid sound escapes his mouth, biting into his bottom lip numbly.

the thought crosses his mind that he probably shouldn’t have gotten this job if he’s so terrible at social interactions, but then the thought that he should probably be spending his time trying to figure out what to do instead hits him, and he watches with bated breath as the guy reaches into the back pocket of his pants, recognizing that he was most likely about to pull out his cell phone.

or a knife. maybe it’s a knife.

woojin doesn’t even entertain the ridiculous thought, and speaks up before the man can pull out whatever it is in his pocket, whether it be his phone or some kind of weapon.

“i can go back and tell them.”

if woojin knew anything, it was that he definitely had no idea what he was doing.

[avtsparrow-blog]

++ tardy | pwj & cyn

[avtsparrow-blog]

yujuavt:

(...)

He was already, a familiar face from all the orders she placed. The start was rather typical, give the money, expect for the change and closing the door. But lately she would smile more, let him have whatever change would be and thanking him properly. “Th-thank you… keep the change. Ahm, it’s quite cold. Why won’t you warm up here before returning to the rain?”

it only takes one look at her face for woojin’s shoulders to slacken slightly, having recalled that this customer especially was a rather nice woman. 

he remembers being given the extra change, and how her demeanor had slowly grown more and more welcoming. personally, he too had opened up more and more - offering subtle smiles and maintaining longer eye contact despite his shyness. he even said more than a word or two from time to time, and started to enjoy delivering her orders eventually.

it was a rather pleasant dynamic, he would definitely agree; although, truthfully, he had been expecting a scolding from an equally grumpy person who had ended up waiting much longer for their food. instead, the offer for him to go inside and find refuge from this blasted downpour that soaked him to his very soul causes a warmth to spread within him, and he can’t stop himself from giving her a toothy smile. he nods, almost too eagerly, sniffling as he took a step in.

“thank you so much, ah...?”

it strikes him that he had never caught her name, and as he wrings his frozen hands, he gives her a sheepish look.

[avtsparrow-blog]

++ be quiet | pwj & ydw

[avtsparrow-blog]

avtdowoon:

(...)

Though, a bother was exactly what this kid had become as he was soon asleep and was now loudly snoring. That’s when Dowoon decided to take action, closing the thick book in his hand and staring at the kid asleep on his book for a moment. He wanted to wake him up, but didn’t want to start a conversation, so he had the perfect plan. Leaning across the table he simply raised his book back, keeping both himself and the book invisible before he simply smacked it across the kid’s head, not hard enough to knock him out, but certainly hard enough to wake him up and maybe give him a headache later. 

And with that simple deed done, Dowoon simply sat himself back down properly and went right back to reading as if nothing had happened. 

he’s not quite sure why he wakes with a jolt for a few moments, wide eyed and winded, until he feels the shock sink in. there’s a bit of a throbbing at the back of his head, dull and with the general kick of what he would usually call a minor discomfort - frankly, he’s felt worse from times where he accidentally injured himself breakdancing and oh boy, does it hurt when you fall on your back.

unsure of how to respond considering that he was still quite alone, he blinks languidly a few times before removing his arms from the page of the textbook, straightening his posture once again, eyes darting from side to side to see what exactly could have hit him - if something (or someone) even did.

realizing that the only thing that accompanied him was an empty space, he directs his attention back towards the blocks and blocks of text, feeling his eyes begin to close again. woojin it makes it through one page (thankfully) before another yawn escapes his mouth, and he’s trying to blink away the tiredness.

a few more minutes pass, and he turns over another crisp page, exhaling loudly in hopes of keeping himself awake.

of course, he finds himself nodding off again somehow, thoughts melding together and, suddenly, the thought crosses his mind that maybe he could just study at home.

the thing was, once he was out of such a quiet atmosphere, he would always feel the urge to go back to the studio, which was a big no-no. so he shifts back around in the uncomfortable wooden seat, rubbing his neck harshly, and tries to start reading again.

it doesn’t work.

he’s definitely about to fall back asleep this time, and he honestly can’t think he can stop himself again.

[avtsparrow-blog]

++ early bird | pwj & kjw

[avtsparrow-blog]

avtjinwoo:

(...)

Grabbing a book, he begins to fan his face a little, purposely not looking in the general direction of where the other is sitting. He’s going to avoid him at all costs, or die trying. Though, as he sees movement from the corner of his eye, he quickly realizes, he might actually have to die trying. Jinwoo wastes no time in grabbing a few books and making a speedy getaway, walking away from the front desk at a relatively decent speed. 

Oh my god, is he coming to speak to me? Why? He never speaks to me!

least to say, woojin’s not really used to being run away from - more accurately, he’s usually the one who runs away.

he’s not exactly sure what this weird chase-confrontation thing currently going on between them is, but for some reason, it almost feels wrong as he trails behind the man, like he was some kind of poacher trying to corner a rare deer.

okay, yeah, that was a strange analogy.

but still, how else could he possibly describe this? it was almost ridiculous, considering that he probably should have just called out to the librarian in the first place instead of engaging in this awkward interaction. 

he’s no expert on socializing, but even he’s pretty sure it probably would have been less awkward if that happened.

truthfully, his brain is telling him to just hurry up and catch up, because he can tell that a few pairs of eyes are watching his form curiously now as he passes by, and so he does - a rough “hey” comes out of woojin’s lips. before he knows it, he’s standing in front of the guy with an expression that really seemed more determined than confused, although it hits him that he has no idea what to say now. 

wow, he really should have thought this through.

i mean, what could he say? 'did you see me walk up a wall the other day?’ but what if he didn’t?

so, instead, he settles on the safest option.

“um, excuse me?”

[avtsparrow-blog]

++ fir-st impressions | pwj & pcy

@avtchan

he’s not really a plant person - anyone could tell that as soon as they see him interact with nature. he’s more likely to befriend a houseplant than actually care for it, which probably says enough in itself.

despite this, his aunt seems to think he’s trustworthy enough to watch over and water her plants while she’s gone for a business trip. 

truthfully? fine is probably far from the current state of his mental being over trying to save whatever these green plant things are. woojin doesn’t even know what they’re called - forgive his ignorance - because the only things he really knows anything about are dance and his power.

so here he is, back in the plant nursery, where he should probably be asking for help maintaining the original plants to save him from his misery. instead, he’s getting an exact replica of that fern thingy that died this afternoon for what was probably the third time.

the problem?

he can’t find where they are - in fact, he thinks they might have been moved elsewhere.

biting his lip roughly as he surveyed the greenery that surrounded him, he lets out a sigh.

oh boy. it was going to be a long day.

[avtsparrow-blog]

++ fight or flight | pwj & skj

@avtkangjoon

(tw; violence)

he had heard shouts, the sickening noises of discord and feral bloodthirst faintly echoing nearby. ignoring his better judgement, woojin had run with all his might towards the ruckus, hoping that nothing too severe had occurred, unsure of why he wasn’t heading towards the opposite direction.

so why was there only one person? he could have sworn he had heard a call for help somewhere in the cries.

even at the thought, it only takes one glance at the unconscious body, shadowed by the darkness of night, sinking into a pile of trashbags, for woojin's feet to move once again, this time out of the need to do something, anything.

the thought that the person who had caused this was out there, most likely still close by, barely crosses by him.

he can’t bring himself to look back, his vision becoming a foggy blur as he blindly runs out of the alleyway and under the orange hues of late night city lamps, feeling the cold air cut at his clothes numbly.

first, he sees it. the long, winding shadow. 

there’s a man, standing near the pole of one of the lights, cell phone raised against his ear.

the words that come out of his mouth don’t register in woojin’s mind as he halts to a sharp stop in front of the stranger, breath heavy. his eyes are wider than that of a doe’s, unable to formulate proper words, rather, allowing them to swim around within his gaze desperately.

help, please.

[avtsparrow-blog]

++ mixup | pwj & hsh

@avthyuk

if park woojin knew anything, it was that silence was always a valid option. 

although, in this case, he guessed that silence was...well, less of a valid option. he resists the urge to gawk at the man that stood in front of him, sealing his mouth shut into a firm line, processing what had just happened within his mind.

it occurs to him that he should probably respond - even though he was being asked a pointed question that, when you looked at it objectively, wasn’t exactly his battle to fight.

he curses the mixup within his head, wordlessly wondering why he had to be the one who ended up delivering the incorrect order to someone that looked rather unamused at his minor plight, and probably (rightfully) annoyed at this unfortunate coincidence (at least, to him). 

the thing was, he was never exactly built to deal with these kind of situations, and was honestly unused to interacting with someone in this way.

of course, he had known that something like this was inevitable, with the restaurant’s wide array of foods.

still, the only word that seems to be able to make its way out of his lips was less something coherent and more of a sound of dull surprise.

“oh.”

[avtsparrow-blog]

++ skyfall | pwj & kjh

@avttink

it was strange, how different an alleyway could look when turned onto its side.

it took a couple hundred times before he stopped tripping everywhere in an attempt to adjust to the new ground, a couple hundred more to forget about the rest of the world and the people who walked perpendicular to him. 

he studies the rough surface beneath him, seeing the cracks that compromised the crumbling brick and taking in deep breaths, settling into the mild lightheadedness that washed over his being. 

another step.

his feet rest on the imperfections within the neatly separated sea of faded red, and he watches as it refuses to move under the pressure of his weight. 

he walks a few more feet before he turns back to look at the asphalt wall behind him, and then up at the equally rouge-colored ceiling that looked as if it could fall upon him at any moment. 

woojin turns his head to study the slowly darkening evening sky, watching the wall of clouds as they gradually mixed with hues of cotton candy pink and periwinkle, exhaling slowly.

it was peaceful.

( what he fails to notice, however, is that he is not alone, and things certainly were not peaceful. in fact, they were about to be far from it. )

[avtsparrow-blog]

++ tardy | pwj & cyn

@yujuavt

park woojin was never exactly a lucky person. 

actually, he was probably more unlucky than lucky. bad things of all kinds loved to cling to him like he was some kind of magnet. 

he’s pretty sure rain hates him, too, and if something that doesn’t even live hates him, what didn’t?

all right, fine; that was an exaggeration. 

but as he stood there, drenched and shivering in the ice cold downpour, he can’t help but curse his luck. slippery walls meant slippery surfaces to walk on, pouring rain meant barely being able to see three feet in front of him. both factors meant delivering without the assistance of his power.

what’s even worse is that he ends up arriving probably an hour later than usual and on the brim of catching a cold.

did he also mention that the boxes that held food were cardboard? because that sure as hell was annoying. he had to sacrifice his jacket in order to keep them from being saturated to hell and back, covering their flimsy surfaces with the warm fabric.

the thought that he’ll also have to go back in the rain causes him to knock on the door with an even grumpier expression, teeth clacking as he desperately hoped the woman would respond quickly so he could retreat into a warmer place to find shelter.