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。 Park Jinyoung 。 Ravenclaw 。 。17 。Squib's son 。 playing a dangerous game of duck duck goose and fated to lose.

[xmarkpuff]

“…but as my date.”

It’s a struggle to believe the present reality, a constant push and pull as he tugs at his consciousness to revive and awaken him from whatever dream he assumed himself to be having – he swallows hard. A fragile lapse of time, one he’s sure he’ll shatter with even the lightest brush – but it’s actuality, it’s here, his senses are very much alive and aware, maybe even more so than they’ve ever been.

Admonition strikes veins, warning and recalling the rules of personal space and comfort, but it’s difficult not to reach out and touch; he’s beautiful and sometimes Mark has to bite the inside of his cheek to refrain from ghosting knuckles over the other’s cheek because there was no possible way such a person could be real.

Breath catches and is nearly choked upon – he didn’t even know he’d been holding his breath. “Yes,” lilt is rough, throat dry as cotton while gaze dashes between his feet and the Ravenclaw. A hand already worries the back of his neck, the fight for coherency clear upon the tip of his tongue. “I mean- I’d love to- er- be happy to. Of course.”

Eyes finally settle, fearing the moment would dissipate and wither had he not. It’s involuntary, the hand stretching forward to feather bangs away from the male’s eyes; selfishly, craving. Short, though it extends to immortality, realization late in registering his behavior. It’s a stinging sensation almost as he notices, the hand immediately retracting and fumbling to rest atop his neck once more. “If you’d still like to go with me, that is—Sorry I.. Wasn’t thinking—”

[ravjr-blog]

"Yes"

Funny how a simple word leaves such an impact and yet he had never dared to imagine beyond the act of asking. High hopes bound to give way to devastation and dreams belong to the night. But he said yes, Jinyoung plays on repeat like a mantra his life depends upon (maybe it does). A halcyon heart swells and he swears oxygen has thinned because—

there's a hand brushing against his forehead that he is unable to write off as a ghost. It feels more real than the countless of scenarios he has conjured up in his mind. He's suffocating, in bliss, in having dreams coming true bit by bit yet he still doesn't dare to dream beyond this single moment. Breath hitched because a single exhale may shatter everything. This is glass slippers, pumpkin carriages, rodent footmen, and a clock inching towards twelve.

The clock strikes twelve and Jinyoung stirs, recomposing his expression and everything else, resisting the urge to rest fingers upon the place the other had just marked. "Of course," he reassures, hoping he doesn't sound as breathless as he feels. "My mind wouldn't change for anything." It's the simple truth.

It takes a certain amount of will to keep his face from falling, from smiling too brightly, because why is Mark apologizing? Does he not— Am I—

He's drowning in what ifs and decides to focus on just this for the time being. Hearts don't always align, that's how things are.

"Should I pick you up at six?" How does this work anyways?

[ravjr-blog]

"So uh," He's hoping he doesn't appear as anxious as he felt-- "Winter's here, I mean, obviously, but- ice skating's a thing that I hear is pretty fun- but I don't really know how, so um.. I was wondering if you could teach me?" A nervous hand habitually settles atop his nape, gaze directed at his feet. "Not a tutoring session, but more of.." Lower lip is clenched between teeth, gaze resolving in sheepishly peering up at the other. "..A date? Maybe?"

And of all the novels he has spent reading in his spare time, none of them have prepared him for this. Less of butterflies in the chest (or whatever metaphor they preferred to use) and more of running a marathon type of pace and Jinyoung finds it slightly hard to breathe. Nothing is really that different spare for the fact that he has to grip his books a bit tighter for support.

Winter and skating and tutoring... Small beads start to line his forehead. He was raised in a country where snow was a myth, how would he be able to teach the other? But neither does he wish to crush hopes or allow anyone else the honor of such a task. Another look from underneath his bangs only to find lips caught between teeth and—

..A date? Maybe?

He blinks. Once. Twice. Trying to process the words and wondering if he heard wrong.

Mind races at a hundred miles an hour and hates himself for the near school girl hopes that Mark really did ask him out.

"Yes," and he thinks it comes out as a squeak and cringes from how the word rushed out of his lips.

Jinyoung swallows, ignores the incessant fluttering in his chest, and composes his face. "I mean sure." it's just an appointment he tells himself but his crossed fingers say otherwise.

"Although it might disappoint you..." He trails off, trying to battle the heat that creeps towards his cheeks. "I actually don't know how to skate," he confesses.

[x-jacksonclaw-blog]

Talking To The Moon

Ravenclaw dorms around two o’clock in the morning are a cocktail of stirring dust in pallid moonlight, snores and overly abundant blankets that smell of old textbooks clinging to every breathing fibril. Jackson remains untouched by the inebriation of sleep for what feels like the third or forth day in a row—but the hours blend into each other, helplessly grabbing the ends of their coattails like a child attempting to gain attention to his mindless reverie—staring holes into notes that, more or less, were written during one of those moments where he struggled to keep his eyes open during class, which is almost humorously counterproductive since, obviously, staying up like this leads to helpless moments like that where the ink starts to slope off of his page and he doesn’t need another thwack to the head from one of his teachers. The last time, he remembers, the book that struck him had an unbelievably hard cover to it and if it weren’t for his equally as thick skull, he’s sure he would have toppled over into unconsciousness, a pile of impulsive, poor decision making skills and twilight dipped regrets. Jackson thinks there would be a moment, at least maybe just a sliver of clarity if that were the case.

His problem is that his head never stops and he thinks that there are a lot of things he misses, a lot of important things that end up subliminal rather than explicit. A lot of things that filter through his fingers and sit heavy like lead in everyone else’s. He gets tired of feeling misshapen, brain somewhere in his chest, heart somewhere crushed under his feet, mouth full of cotton.

He stares up from his papers and in the general direction of a slender figure under blankets, the only indication of identity, a full head of dark, smooth hair that collects a specific pattern of star-like glints near the scalp. On days where living starts to feel more like an inevitable train wreck, sometimes Jackson wishes he were Jinyoung. Calm and cool for the most part. Likable seems to be the deciding factor. Jackson wants to be likable.

The notes taste like paper pulp, held tightly by the press of his mouth when he pulls back blankets and slides in next to him. The bed is small. It’s funny because he remembers when the beds felt much larger than this, but he has it in him to remember how little boys grow into men, how they fill out their shoulders and sculpt mountain ranges into their knuckles and jawlines. The features that were once like summer dandelions are wished upon and adolescence leaves with a sigh, floating on tepid air and time. Laying flat on his back, he shifts a little until the mattress accommodates him. The room falls quiet again and Jackson peels the paper out of his mouth with a slight grimace towards the damp crescent left behind on his notes. “Charms,” he starts out, voice a merciless huff of hot air, “I need help with the assignment.” The cotton is still there, laying flat on his tongue and smothering his articulations at the source so they wont be as crude. It does nothing about the elbow that ticks into Jinyoung’s side. “Hey, wake up.”   

[ravjr-blog]

Life unfolds like clockwork - if you prefer it that way. At some point Jinyoung finds himself buying into this lifestyle. It's safe. It's easier. They leave you alone (for the most part at least). You become one of them, between rustling papers and swishing wands. Attention is dispersed and all one has to do is smile. A faded wallpaper, background music, in exchange to live at your own pace. Hence progression of days are the same for one day to the next, spare for the seasonal changes outside the window. The ravenclaw resides in his own head for the most part. That's the freedom. That's how he convinces himself to become part of the system (resistance should be reserved for a time one has enough power to do so).

Assignments are done days before they are due, a week if he's feeling it. Allows more time on his hands, an investment of sorts, to waste away at meal times or to set aside for lessons.

The clock strikes twelve and Cinderella hurries back home. The clock strikes twelve and Jinyoung is in bed by then, not because some spell is coming to the end but because attentiveness is a necessity to continue ranking high enough. Never allow sneers to form upon their faces and the glances that say see? what would a squib know anyways?

more than you ever would, he bites back and smiles instead as he tries to prove them wrong and wrong again. But people out to get you don't focus on what you have accomplished, wait for the day you slip and fall - and fall you will. One day. Some day. Not today.

It's circadian rhythm grafted into his bones so sleep comes easily and the Sandman occasionally pays a visit. To sink is to swim and the sanctity of these hours are as such - undisturbed peace for eight hours.

Jinyoung forgets how peace is such a fragile thing only to remember when Jackson disturbs it. He's a light sleeper to begin with and wakes up in time to listen to help, in which he responds with a grunt and "go away." The bed is warm and sleep is precious. But it's hard to fall back into Hypnos' embrace when the bed has dipped and given in to the weight of growing teens. It's warmer than he prefers and the bed is too small for two despite Jinyoung's attempts to shift and pretend to fall back into deep slumber again.

He gives up when limbs come in contact. He can't sleep until this is over with and groans as he turns around to glare at Jackson. "Why didn't you ask me four hours ago?" is how he begins because patience is as thin as newly formed ice because it's late and not his regular tutee. Sigh slips through lips and shoulders follow in the release before he closes his eyes again. "Which part?" too drowsy to sound like a snap despite his best efforts, intent on listening and demonstrating his reluctance.

[ravjr-blog]

just need to finally publish that self para and then like get active on him so yeah after squashing seokjin muse because i can't juggle so many muses orz 

until then please enjoy this lovely gif!!

by enjoy i mean i hope you feel as intensely as i do and cry.

[ohgotseven]

“하지하지마(Stop stop it)” M/V - Jr. (2)

[ravjr-blog]

「 garden of words 」ft. ???

quidditch tryouts seem to be an on-going thing so jinyoung checks it out. not that he has any interest in applying but rather because he hopes to catch a glimpse of his friend and cheer him on.

green grass, blue sky, white cloud, a yellow sun - perfect day. he could care less. no its not as if the sun would burn him (that he would shrivel like some vampire) but rather that time could be utilized more efficiently in the library. the scents much more welcoming than the stench of grass and mud and sun dried skin.

jinyoung tugs at his tie, gently in fear of loosening it to poorer standards of a rebellious kid. in the sweltering robes, he finds himself seated at the edge of the fray. probably not supposed to be here unless he was actually giving his team a shot but it's not as if he cared to begin with. certainly some moral support can't be punished?

[jackseunn]

[ravjr-blog]

《 session no. i lost count 》ft. mark

[xmarkpuff]

Meanwhile here lie the remains of seventh year Hufflepuff Mark Tuan, carcass haphazardly slumped over a book whose title his mind refuses to recall (“Break with a Banshee?” something written by Gilderoy Lockhart). Only four pages in and already he retires to his “I’m-so-done-with-school” state of mind. It was admirable, truly – how persevering and ambitious the students of Hogwarts were. He wishes he was motivated, he wishes he had the brain capacity to understand what he’s just learned instantaneously, however said “dead” Hufflepuff could only look on, gaze blankly directed upon the mass of text placed before him.

“Do we have to?” He croaks, moving to from his previous spot to plop in front of and properly face his friend-slash-tutor; tries not to grimace at the amount of work he had placed before him. “Like… Already? Is this necessary? Really necessary?” His lips are ready to pout, eyes watering as he laid his chin to rest upon their shared table. Nose scrunches whilst the Ravenclaw crinkles pages and searches subjects, lower lip slightly jutting out before he listens for a response. “Exams aren’t for awhile—Plus, Halloween’s coming up? Like?? Come on, you have to be more excited for that rather than,” Insert over-exaggerated shiver for effect, “N.E.W.Ts.” 

[ravjr-blog]

"Do we have to?"

Jinyoung's lips almost flatten into a thin line. The proper response should be yes without hesitation yet he takes a glance at his fellow peer who has unfortunately situated himself where he's exceptionally visible. He takes another glance back at the text, attempting to ignore the subsequent protests from the other male.

"Yes. Yes it is," he insists, meeting the other's gaze squarely. "Wouldn't you rather it be in short increments than cramming for the last two months?" He can't help but question (at the same time unable to look away at the head on the table in defeat and the lower lip that protrudes just slightly—)

He has to struggle to remember why he's here and for what purpose. Because despite halloween never really celebrated where he's from, he's grown to love it through the years. And candy, free candy is just a delight. Especially the apples that can be excused as 'healthy' to some degree. The ravenclaw has to swallow before he can speak again. "You're hopeless," and he means it in the best terms, tempted to pat the other's head but refrains. Before he allows himself to ask about Halloween plans, he diverts the topic by asking: "name what a unicorn can be used for." Something standard and simple enough.

[ravjr-blog]

《 session no. i lost count 》ft. mark

Second nature or a daily routine, he can't quite distinguish anymore, so engrained into his life were such arrangements that it's hard to tell between a "tutoring session" and a hang out between friends. Probably because the conversation gets sidetracked too often unless there was a pressing exam in the near future.

This year, however, Jinyoung decided it would be better to start off the year in preparation for the N.E.W.T.s that seemed to be the only thing that mattered in the upcoming months. Mostly because futures relied so heavily upon such an exam and he couldn't help but worry about (dare he call it, yes) best friend. He has everything planned out in terms of subjects, brainstormed which topics were more likely to make an appearance. A bit too soon and over the top but better late than never right?

Library is filled with students, a month into the year, color of tie varying from house to house. He observes, with pursed lips, fingers fumbling with his texts as he postulates what assignment could they possibly be working on.

[got7-updates]

shake it shake it