endless.

༶ 🌱 ˟  ━━     xueyu is quite good with most scary things-- things such as blood or gore or psychological movies -- none of those really bother him. h o w e v e r... he never has been able to handle jumpscares. and honestly, he questions why he’s already let himself be dragged through the haunted house several times at this point. but, maybe it’s just because he has been enjoying himself the rest of the night. and besides, the person he’s with this time is someone he doesn’t feel exhausted around.

and so, he’s quite certain inori doesn’t mind when he lets out a high yelp, his hand squeezing hers almost too tight as something pops out in front of them-- again. “i hate this--” he whines, blowing his dark bangs out of his face as his shivers subside. at least his costume was easy to move in-- haku and chihiro -- it was a fitting look for them, he thinks. as an added bonus, the clothes were baggy and comfortable. he, however, was not comfortable in the slightest. but, at least he didn’t have to tire himself out, worrying about how he appeared in front of inori.

his breaths come in loud huffs as he tugs on her arm a little bit with a frown, “are we almost through yet-- kill me now.”

u know how ppl say knowledge is a burden or smth like that? well good thing i am stupid ! :D

༶ 🌱 ˟  ━━     there isn’t much room for regret in xueyu’s life-- nor could he say it’s really an emotion he’s felt before. there is, however, a certain twinge he feels whenever he sees wyatt yoon-- the closest friend he’s had. and maybe he could tell in the droop of his smile, the tiny furrow of his eyebrows, the purse of his lips. he doesn’t really know how they stopped talking-- but he remembers vague flashes of denial, of anger, and then radio silence. it was hard to describe how he felt but maybe this was the closest to regret he would get.

and although he doesn’t know what went wrong... he knows that he doesn’t like it, and so, xueyu has devised the brilliant plan to try and fix it.

so here he is, after practice, outside of the pool area because he had seen swim practice going on earlier-- part of his brilliant plan was to corner him, as terrible as that sounds, because he’s left with no other choice as wyatt seemed hellbent on not aknowledging him when they saw each other. it settled an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of xueyu’s stomach, and he wanted it to go away. he springs up off of the wall after his target appears from the locker rooms, a hand held out in a single wave, friendly as can be.

“wyatt--” he steps in front of him, completely undaunted by their height difference and staring at him steadily, “hi. you’ve been avoiding me, right? can we talk?”

༶ 🌱 ˟  ━━   now when meng decided to take an art class as an elective, he wasn’t exactly prepared for such a vague assignment as ‘choose any subject and make us feel something.’ and, being the way that he is with his short attention span and shallow level of feeling, his immediate reaction is to find something or someone beautiful. because beautiful things are automatically good, right? either way, the thought is in the back of his mind because he had more important ( ie. his major classes that he needed to try not to fail ) assignments to take care of.

however, on a fateful trip from the great hall to his dorms, it pushes its way to the forefront because he sees something worth stopping for. he stops in his tracks, eyebrows furrowing and eyes narrowing as he tries to see a little bit clearer, through the spattering of students walking through the hallways. seemingly satisfied with what he finds, he straightens up to his full height, takes a few steps forward and-- begins waving his arms above his head without shame.

“hey, excuse me! you over there with the long hair-- wait no not you, excuse me, sorry no-- yeah, you! can i talk to you for a sec?”

snowmeng_00 // ◔5m

starter tracker ( 10.05.20 ) 

kangdae feels good. the sting of his latest spike coursing through his palms, he wants to do it again. he wonders if xueyu feels the same way too, that as soon as he achieves something new, he wants to try again. he knows that volleyball would never gain as much popularity at this school as quidditch but kangdae doesn’t mind. both were great sports for different reasons.

his grin is large as he watches the younger male return his high five, he never had a younger brother before, but he wonders if it’s similar to this. as pride courses through his spine, “ did you play volleyball back in high school or something? most of the kids here didn’t grow up with it.” it wasn’t bad, just different. “ right? i was like bam, and then it with bang! but then the ball went woosh but you came in the last minute,” kangdae began to recount animately, his movements rushed. 

“ for sure! it’d be sick, i think if you teach me how to return the ball as well as you do we can even stop balls that have been enchanted!” he suggest whimsically, he wonders how fast they could enchant a ball to go, would it be dangerous though who knows. “ i missed playing, i feel like it’s not the same when i practice back home.”

the smile is cheery, boyish, daresay excited-- as excited as xueyu is aware he could get. there’s not many constants in his life that drew this feeling out of him, but this-- this was for sure one of them. he grabs a water bottle, and tosses one at the elder as well, his grin still unwavering. he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand after taking a couple gulps. his breathing was almost back to normal. 

xueyu shakes his head, “i played recreationally-- i didn’t really do any team sports in high school,” he admits, his hand ruffling his sweat dampened hair absentmindedly. “i moved around too much,” he explains as he plops right down on the gym floor, patting the area next to him to invite kangdae to sit and rest as well. he can’t help but laugh at the animated response, head nodding enthusiastically. “we’d be unstoppable,” he says somberly before he breaks out into another smile. how about you, hyung?” the honorific rolls off of his tongue easily, even with the fast switch between languages-- he didn’t think the other would mind.

“how long have you played?”

not everyone has quite the exquisite tastes as hyeon does, especially when it comes to food. walking through the many different food stalls that are present during the carnival, he had witnessed a fair share of interesting choices for platter. some of those, hyeon can’t tell whether it’s one of the more strange but healthy meals, or if they’re just plan weird. still, there’s art to culinary, and he’s not about to discard someone else’s masterpieces. there’s always an exception, though. he finds that exception with a freshman he recognises, but can’t quite place a name on. the caramel apple that the boy is holding is drowned in excess sugar, hyeon can’t even take his eyes off of it. the amount of unnecessary sweets on it leaves his stomach feeling queasy, despite not being the idiot who’s about to consume it.

he stares as the abomination is shoved into his face, watching as some of the powdered sugar unceremoniously drops to the ground. “are you kidding?” he questions, eyes flicking up to the other boy. “this is—this can kill you. if you want to keep your life, i suggest you not eat this.” he pushes the dessert away, scrunching his nose. 

okay, sure... there may be a little too much sugar he’s about to intake. but, knowing xueyu, he’d likely take a bite, savor it, think it’s too sweet and toss out the rest. impulsive as always, however, he had to get it. the other’s disdain does get to him a little bit, and he re-examines the sugar clump on a stick, pursing his lips. “can it really? i mean anything not in moderation could right?” and he’s rambling his thoughts as always-- but it really is a serious question.

not one for competitions herself, eve shows up for a much different reason. it’s the same reason that she’s been attending most of the carnival’s festivities despite possessing very little interest personally — she liked being around in case there was something, or someone, that she could take advantage of. moments such as these were perfect for striking deals with individuals, offering to brew them something or do some sort of favor just so that they’ll owe her in the future. she enjoys having a long list that she could cash out on whenever she so pleases. however, she doesn’t share that sentiment when it comes to xueyu. the second he approaches her, pushing past someone else just to be there, she immediately furrows her eyebrows in concern from his expression alone. it’s clear that something is bothering him, which bothers eve.

“let’s see now, shall we?” she takes the mug from his hands and takes a small sip, only to make a face and immediately pour it onto the ground. “oh, you poor dear boy, i’m afraid the butterbeer has been spiked.” she looks up at him, gently placing a hand on his cheek while softly frowning. “careful, now. i wouldn’t drink anymore if i were you. if someone could get something in there without anyone noticing, who knows what else could be done, hm?”

the immediate reaction is a scrunched nose, furrowed eyebrows, a look of absolute disgust. that’s definitely what it was, xueyu now concludes-- it was a funny taste, odd, stand out, out of place. considering the only alcohol he’s really ever had was on trips with his mother, either wine or sweet fruit cocktails ( he only likes sweets, he will turn his head at hard liquor ), it’s no wonder he didn’t recognize it. “gross,” he crinkles his nose in distaste; he sticks his tongue out for dramatic effect, as if the air will cleanse the aftertaste from his mouth.

WHY IS IT THAT SHE’S ALWAYS PACING? you’re asking me? that’s on you isn’t it? the voice in her head is significantly snippy today, some parts cranky for reasons friday can’t place. no matter, she isn’t today’s main concern. no, today’s highlight lies in the fact that she had misplaced her model wand piece. “misplaced”, more like, flung it somewhere out of frustration night prior when the whittling process didn’t pan out the way she wanted. imagine that, four nights of time and blood and tears promptly discarded in a fit because she had chipped the ring section. actually, that’s pretty on point. nonetheless, friday is on a rampage, however subdued and brimming with frustration. WHERE IS IT? WHERE!!!!! she takes a deep breath, chest expanding in the process, and holds. pauses for a total of one, two, three—before exhaling, platforms stomping on the floor. 

inwardly, a cry deaf to the ears of others: AAAAAAAAAAAAHUGSHDUGHU!#*@# then: a damsel(?) in distress. 

                                                                                                                             “huh?” 

bright eyes turn to the direction of the voice, barely registering the boy (who’s the boy? well how many cute boys with strong brows like that do you know? oh…) and the words slipping out beyond “niffler” and “watch”. “OH!” she lunges without much thought, landing palms first (quick to wrap around the suspicious niffler) and chin second (skin scraping against concrete). 

                                                                                                                               ow. 

                                                   “I GOT HIM!!!”

finally-- finally, xueyu reluctanlty stands up, and is unphased as a few of the creatures continue to cling onto him, letting them dangle as they wish as he dusts off his pants and shirt and makes his way over to the elder student. “phew,” he sighs aloud, eyes bright and twinkly, crinkling as his lips stretch into a bright grin. laughter drips off of his lips as he sidles up right next to her, dropping down into a crouch, feet planted flat and firm on the dusty dirt ground.

“thank you,” he huffs, “flighty little things,” he scolds, thick eyebrows furrowed as he carefully grabs the niffler from friday. eyes narrowed, he holds the beast firm before he starts shaking him, gentle but effectively. he sees sparkles and glints of metal fall from who knows where within the fur tufts. “aha,” he says, keeping a grip on the niffler with one hand as he grabs his watch, and earrings, amongst the stolen treasure. with that, he lets go, watches the niffler absorb the rest and run off again. clicking his tongue he straps his watch back on before he blinks-- turns his attention back.