#ravrose

[ravenwon-blog]

‘ coffee in the commons. ——

a good enough reason to miss my train, rose.

wool mittens are folded neatly on top of this smooth suitcase. his scarf is wrapped loosely around its handle. his winter coat lays over the arm of a couch, his body seating itself gently into the cushions’ embrace. wonwoo’s warm layers were shed from his slender frame the moment he crossed into the ravenclaw common room. the heat pulsing from the brightly lit fireplace, along with the aromatic steam slowly rising from the two mugs he holds carefully in his large hands, will help to melt the young man’s chilly demeanor as he sits and waits.

meetings like these were nothing new between him and rose. although, springs were tea and promises; summers were lemonade and laughter; and autumns were cider and sighs. winters ( and oh, he really liked their winters ) called for coffee and conversation. wonwoo was ready to go back home, all packed up with light eyes and a light heart, but he believed that the seasons just didn’t begin until they had a chance to catch up.

so he waits - patiently. and it’s not long before he hears her familiar steps, right as he’s about to raise the dark liquid to his lips. instead, he smiles, sharp features swallowed by rounding cheeks and crinkling lines. “hey!” he holds a mug out to her, his grin growing as he teases, “i drunk from both already, so now they’re mine. you’re free to stay and watch me finish them, though. just know that i have to leave in two hours. . . ”

[slyxng-blog]

rose

roseanne park was a good person to be with. not the type yixing would stick beside for too long -- she deserved better -- but she was a pleasant conversationalist. “i think we’re friends,” yixing finally said with three-quarters certainty, and the rest left for righteous doubt of his own assumption. “we keep each other company. astronomy sounds interesting when she talks about it.” he laughed, then, “we’re better friends for it, i suppose. a little bit of emotional support goes a long way.”

[ravnina-blog1]

* girls just wanna have fun.

starter for @ravrose​.

this was rare for nina, times where her cheeks throbbed with the gentle pain of smiling way too hard, way too much. yet, when this happened, she never wanted that dull ache to disappear. it wasn’t very often she found herself in a pure state of happiness, but her best side never failed to make an appearance when it came to her dear cousin, rose.

another reason to add to the list as to why she absolutely adored the younger.

she spares a glance to the other girl, her body adorned in clothes many would kill for, ones she was able to get from her older sister. note to self, ask anna next time i see her if she’d like to go on a shopping spree with me, she thinks to herself. there was no doubt rose’s sister had a great sense of style, if she hadn’t, nina and rose wouldn’t be parading around their room in hand--me-downs from the others overly stuffed closet.

“if i were you, i wouldn’t have told me about all these,” nina speaks with a laugh, her words coming out louder than normal in an attempt to be heard over the music that was blasted way too high. “i would have been selfish and hogged them all.”

[slyxng-blog]

♫ rose x yixing

Certain Things by James Arthur, Chasing Grace ( ♫ )

And there's certain things that I adoreAnd there's certain things that I ignoreBut I'm certain that I'm yours

rose doesn’t do anything in particular; nothing straight out of a romantic novel or a slice-of-life tv show about two people finding each other in the dark. broken edges mean that there must be something out there meant to complete the fragmented soul, or heart, or whatever it is. faith is a waste of yixing’s time, and he doesn’t believe in fate, either. but it’s been two years after graduation, and a year since they found each other again, and yixing still stares, as he had when he saw her walk down carpeted steps.

she does nothing in particular: all she does is sit there, and let him lie down on her lap. roseanne reads, as she always had, and three winters ago yixing remembers her being less warmly dressed.

the memory of who they used to be makes him smile. yixing does not regret a moment spent kissing her hand, and holding it, fingers filling the space between her own, all maps on their palms coming together to create a galaxy.

this must be contentment. this must be whole. yixing closes his eyes, and for a precious few moments, he thinks of nothing but the feeling of her fuzzy sweater against his cheek, and the sweet smell of her perfume — flowers he can’t recall quickly — and the sound of pages turning. he closes his eyes, and remembers hers.

“what are you smiling for?”

there’s a laugh in her voice. yixing doesn’t have to look at rose to know that she’s smiling. she moves — the sound of a book being set down on the couch, fingers in his hair. ( it’s shorter than it was. less for me to play with, she complained once. )

“you,” he replies bluntly, and she laughs properly, now; music. it’s his turn to feel his face burning with the embarrassment of such sincerity. yixing looks at her, then, and pokes her chin. “i’m serious!”

“you’re cheesy,” she corrects, and kisses him. always the last word, of course, because she steals any form of rebuttal from his mouth. rose doesn’t kiss him like he remembers. maybe it’s the sunlight: they used to kiss under the stars, romanticising a secret. ( it’s much better to kiss her when he doesn’t have to keep his affections under the pretense of a distraction. ) maybe it’s because she doesn’t kiss him like she’s lost, and miserable, and he can feel her smile against his own.

“i’m yours,” yixing tells her, truthfully, and it earns him another kiss. “am i distracting you from your book?”

“mm.”

“is it more interesting than me?”

another laugh: he’s learnt that that means yes.

they are both better people, now; more sincere. more grown up — and still learning — and, finally, almost-whole.

[slybrianna-blog]

◖trust◗

with @ravrose

there’s not a single time her brother writes to her and she doesn’t remember their hometown—the one they were raised at, at least. douglas may live in a cramped ass apartment in gasglow, but their mother still lives on the old house that belonged to the british branch of the myoui family – which was precisely what her brother so subtly tried to remind her of – and the same one brianna hasn’t stomp feet on for three years. she could almost see it clearly how her childhood bedroom remained the same: pristine, colored in a faint color of pink, elementary books still a shell next to seven year old ballet shoes.

from Edinburgh, she can also recall the beautiful park anna, now probably too big to come across the street, and the still familiar younger sister. It’s been over ten years brianna and rose first met, and too much separates them now: their houses, the distance from common room and dining tables, schedules, friends’ cliques and mistakes from the past. but the constant that can never be changed calls her attention when she buys the latest weekly witch edition, with no one else than anna on the cover ( she decides to delay the shipment, and hold onto that for just a little longer then ).

so that gets her here, staying beneath the three broomstick’s canopy roof, safe from any snow drop and huddling in every time someone opens the door and lets some warmth escape, while waiting for her oldest friend. all bree could hope for was that rose would fashionably warm her up—if not, her pockets are full and itching to be spent on one or ten bottles of butterbeer.

[slyxng-blog]

make me :

@ravrose:

“Hm?”

Raven hair whirled around her shoulders as she turned her head quickly towards the direction of the sound– the familiar voice and the overly sweet pet name sent her heart racing, pink cheeks aglow. Rose placed the book she was reading back on her lap ( a second edition Baudelaire that her father tracked down in a Paris side-street ), a sweet smile blooming across pretty strawberry lips.

“I was reading,” She said in her usual delicate tone, leaning back to survey him from under his lashes– the constellations above them scattered blindingly bright across the endless night sky, Venus blinking dutifully between wispy grey clouds. The young Ravenclaw said her next words slowly, carefully – as if she was too afraid that a mistake would send him running. “I was waiting for you.”

Her pink cheeks glowed ever brighter, the warmth prompting her to place a palm against it in an attempt to placate the ever growing flush. Demure sensibilities had forced her eyes to flutter shyly to her lap– the events that transpired the last time they still fresh in her mind. And she started giggling like a fool ( a childish little girl, despite impressive academic achievements ).

“Am I not allowed to be here?” The tone teasing, her eyes coyly bright.

You asked if I wanted to see you, and here I am – that’s your answer, you darling boy.

as always, roseanne park looked absolutely magnificent when her interest was captured by something, when her eyes are trained on reading and analysing and studying, and yixing almost kicked himself for calling out to her and ruining it. rose wasn’t someone he pegged for reading in the courtyard near the entry to the dungeons, especially in such cold weather; the astronomy tower suited this fallen star. he had only ever mentioned it once, in passing, that he always walked past this courtyard, and thought it lovely covered in snow. 

yet he seemed to be the only one displeased at his own actions, and it was enough to keep him from frowning. 

“is that so?” a rhetorical question; he didn’t doubt that she’d been waiting. he said a quick i’ll catch up with you guys later at his house mates, and they gave him an amused laugh in return. of course yixing would be interested in someone again. of course he’d be at this person’s side. yixing was nothing but dedicated to the course he set his sights on, even though this was always subject to change.

he stood before her, not wanting to sit next to her -- it would be cold, there, and he didn’t want to freeze his ass off out here, when they could be warmer inside. ( then again, the slytherin common rooms weren’t exactly the warmest in winter, either. ) “you’re definitely allowed, sweetling.”

he smiled, then, and held his hand out for her to take. “let’s go somewhere warmer. i know a place, if you’re willing.”

[gryffirene-blog]

do you know that you're the prettiest, nicest, smartest, best person in the world ever?

HONESTY HOUR ― ACCEPTING !

“but that’s you though, rosie! or krystal. you’re the prettiest, nicest, smartest best person of sixth year and krystal is the one for seventh!”

[soliosxghni-blog]

Pitter Patter

For @ravrose  

“Keeping everything inside. Close my eyes and listen to you cry”–[Must Get Out-Maroon5]

People might think of him as an extrovert, with his bubbly and chatterbox persona and not to mention how easy it is to talk to makes it easy for him to gain new friends. While he would definitely deny it, saying ‘It’s not like I talk that much!’ he wouldn’t say a thing when people call him an extrovert. He would simply laugh it off, giving no indication whether he’s agree or not with what they said about his personality.

It is true that he likes meeting new people, making new friends and have a nice easy chat with them. But sometimes he couldn’t help but to feel a little suffocated and needing sometime alone every once in a while, just having an hour or two being completely alone. It’s not like he doesn’t like people he’s hanging out with, but before coming to Hogwarts he’s almost always alone at home and he had come to get used to be all by himself when his mom had to leave for work.

That was one of many times when he felt like he need to be alone, his school bag slung on his shoulder and a small basket full of pastries clutched in his right hand. He pushed the door that led to an empty classroom, intending to spend a couple of hours there while doing his Transfiguration essay and probably practicing some spells too there.

Just as he was about to step a foot into the classroom, he a soft sound of sniffling. It’s like someone is… crying? Or they possibly caught a cold? Oh no, that’s bad, they should go to the hospital tower right away. And not to mention the winter break is nearing, what if everyone starts to caught it too? The quiet sniffles turned into soft sobs and he realized that they’re probably crying. ‘Wow, I hope it’s not Moaning Myrtle, the last time I tried to comfort her it didn’t end nicely.’ He shuddered at his memories.

Chanyeol clears his throat before he cautiously asks, “Excuse me? Are you okay?”