❛くそ— fuck that.

“why is everything in life actually so disappointing? you get yourself excited every time, only to be let down, time and time again.”

ANIMAL: vulture COLOR: black, dark blue, grey MONTH: october SONG: young forever NUMBER: 10 DAY OR NIGHT: dusk PLANT: dandelion -- thought of as an unwanted weed 90% of the time SMELL: cigarette smoke mixed with coffee  GEMSTONE: opal SEASON: winter PLACE: bridges FOOD: bitter coffee ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: libra ELEMENT: water DRINK: whiskey

repost and fill in the answers you most associate your character with to each question.

“are you fucking happy now?” the freelance photographer roared as his face weaved in deep frowns and angry wrinkle. needless to mention the chaos of hues scattered all over his face. whilst it is his fault from getting too drunk the previous night, minkyu did not expect that the other would do such thing. it is childish, and stupid and…

 “you’re a fucking lunatic.”

While Junsu normally had a rather stoic facial expression, there were occasional moments when he allowed a smile to break through his tough facade. This was one of them. Seeing Minkyu covered in paint, looking so ridiculous-- who wouldn’t find that amusing? 

        The entire year when she has lived alone, she has learned there were ups and downs; parents weren’t breathing down her neck and watching her every single move ( not that they were watching, to begin with ) and as a down side, she needed to deal with everything. From bills to dishes, from dishes to washing clothes and so on. But that’s what she wanted as soon as she turned eighteen; she wanted out of her parents’ house as soon as her brother moved out. And maybe it was because she was in an age of becoming an adult and she needed her space.

Watching at the clock, she furrowed slightly once seeing the male figure on the couch still not showing any signs of being awake. One down side of sleeping in her house or having a sleepover with her; she would wake up as soon as she would get bored and have gotten herself ready for the day. And her way to wake up people wasn’t from the nicest side. Walking ( more like tiptoeing ) towards the couch, she made sure not to make any unnecessary noises to wake him up and once she was standing right next to him, she pulled the blanket down to his knees.

❝Gooooood morning!❞

Junsu was often perceived to be a cold hearted bastard. He was rude, crass, asinine, and whatever other adjective could be used to describe those of ill mannerisms. That being said, the boy did hold a soft spot in his heart for friends-- especially those who let him crash on their couches at night, instead of allowing him to wander the streets while he avoided his home. Woohee was one such person. While he loved the girl a lot, there were often times that she did something that almost made Junsu prefer staying in the streets. Almost. 

ミ☆ 」 ki practically sings with joy at the thought of the heavy box leaving her arms , but her dreams are soon crushed by the man recoiling his hands . ki pouts . “ i don’t know you . how could i know you if we’ve never met ?? “ her head cants to the side and she outstretches her arms , displaying the package for him to take . her muscles quickly start to shake and spasm from exertion . “ this box came from someone that wanted it delivered to you . so if you would just sign this receipt to confirm you received it …” ki has to place the package down on the ground so she can rifle through her bag in search of a pad and pen .

It had become more and more common for Junsu to spot an idol. With k-pop’s rising popularity, and the fact that Seoul was the center of the Hallyu Wave, it wasn’t that surprising. There were more and more celebrities roaming the streets, with more and more fangirls chasing them around. Usually, however, Junsu ran into idols during work, at Coffee Temple. The cafe was growing more and more popular, and famous stars seemed to love visiting it. This meeting was a bit different. 

He’s seen the other boy often enough that Junsu feels like they know each other-- No-- Scratch that. ‘Knowing each other’ sounded way too personal. He didn’t know the other boy’s name, let alone anything relevant. All that Junsu 'knew’ about the other was that he liked to smoke, and that he worked at the local hotel near Coffee Temple. Aside from that, the other male was a mystery. 

Junsu himself wasn’t familiar with idols. His knowledge of the celebrity world stemmed solely from what he heard in passing, or saw on the streets. The ones featured heavily in advertisements he can recognize quickly. The ones that weren’t... not so much.

That being said, it was easy to tell when an idol or star of some sort was visiting Coffee Temple. They were usually accompanied by a gruff looking manager, and -- the most tell-tale sign -- a horde of fangirls. Jun hated when idols visited. It added to the massive headache he always seemed to possess while working, and crowded the shop out. So when a young male with sunglasses, a hat, and face mask (the typical idol outfit) walked into the store, Junsu was prepared for another wave of annoyance to wash over him. If the boy was here, the fangirls weren’t long behind. The barista gave it a few seconds, but nothing came. Huh. Was this guy an idol? Or-- Or was he just some dude that was self conscious? Or better yet, maybe he was hiding from an ex-girlfriend. Now that would be interesting. 

    He hates coffee. But he loves Moon Junsu. Or, well, as much as one bro could love another bro that he’s not kissing. Coffee Temple is poison– the overly chipper employees, overly aesthetically concerned trash hipsters, and the aroma of coffee beans and pretentiousness that soaked through the very walls– ( This isn’t just how he feels about that coffee shop in particular, all of them are the pits. ) So naturally, whenever he makes an appearance he’s absolutely as obnoxious as he can possibly be without getting Junsu fired.

Dropping his cigarette in the trash outside the door, he pushes through and immediately wrinkles his nose at the ceiling. “Is there any way we could have the music switched over to The Smiths or something? This song is killing the whole super-indie-Zooey-Deschanel vibe I’m trying to create.” He ignores the people that look his way, a smile curling at the corners of his lips when he spots his favorite barista.

Tanner takes a seat at the front counter. “What would you recommend? Is there an option to have a hard liquor shot poured inside?” Lifting an eyebrow, he cocks his head to the side and leans forward on his elbows so the others can’t hear him. “I feel like doing something wild today– a publicity stunt or something. What time do you get off? And if it’s not soon can you make it soon? If I’m gonna have a partner in crime, I’m gonna need it to be you.”

It’s approximately seven-thirty in the morning, and Junsu is stuck working the opening shift once a-motherfucking-gain. At this rate, he’s sure that his manager is doing it on purpose-- the woman wasn’t subtle about her dislike for the young male, not at all. It wasn’t a surprise that she hated him, though-- Junsu was chronically late to work (though maybe that would end if she quit assigning him the earliest and latest shifts), and when he was present, he certainly didn’t fit the ‘vibe’ of Coffee Temple. There was no bright glint in his eyes, no cheery lilt to his voice. Junsu always looked like he was annoyed, as if he had a permanent headache. (Because he did. Everyone and everything at Coffee Temple pissed him off.)

The only redeeming events of the cafe were the occasional visits from his friends-- that, and his weekly paycheck, of course. As soon as he heard Tanner’s voice, Junsu let the faintest of smiles tug at his lips, before turning around from the latte he had been making to greet the older male. “Would you look at what the cat dragged in? Why are you here if you hate this place and our shitty music so much, huh?” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his manager shoot him a glare for the use of crass language in front of a customer, but it wasn’t like Junsu particularly cared. And neither would Tanner, the customer in question. So it was all good, right?

“Fuck, fuck fuck--” The boy muttered to himself, weaving in and out of the masses of people bustling about the sidewalk. This was the third time this week Junsu was running late for work-- his manager had already issued him a warning about his constant tardiness, and even though he disliked the job, the male just couldn’t afford to not have a somewhat reliable paycheck coming in. 

ミ☆ 」 ki rushes down the street ; a large parcel tucked securely underneath her arm . the yellow stone hanging around her neck hums against her skin , indicating to her that the recipient of the hindering box is nearing . or perhaps that it’s going to begin raining soon ; she really needs to stop putting multiple charms into single stones . but sure enough , her eyes land on a young man and the charm gives a very definitive buzz , assuring her that she has found the right person . she approaches him quickly , hoisting the box into both arms . “ the name on the package is a little bit smudged .. but !! i assume you’re junsu , right ?? “

✖ — For the longest time Kitae never thought he would have been able to take care of another – he could hardly care for himself when he was younger and even now he has a difficult time with it. But taking care of others, he finds, is a good way to ignore his own issues and to put off his own downward spiral. Junsu is one of these people, someone whom he finds solace in by tending to. Especially when it looked like nobody else would – Kitae grew up without a proper family and he’ll be damned if Junsu doesn’t get a chance either.

Taking the beer, he rotates it by the neck and watches the liquid swish around for a moment, only to pop the cap and take a swig. Glancing over at the younger, lips quirk upwards into a tired but surprisingly genuine smile. 

“Is there anyone above the shift leader in position? Talk to them, remind them you’re a part-timer and you can’t work all those hours. Lie a little if you gotta.” A pause, before he offers a small shrug. “I’m okay. Just.. not been sleeping well, so s’making me a bit jumpy.” He doesn’t like lying to Junsu, but at the same time he doesn’t want the other to worry. Kitae’s got his own issues and he’ll sort them out on his own.. hopefully. He keeps his depression and other anxieties as concealed as possible when in the boy’s presence, if only to lighten both their burdens.

“Ah... No there isn’t. The shift leader is also the manager... and she’s a bitch.” Junsu sighs, plopping down on the old couch, his lower lip jutted out in a slight pout. It was a facial expression that not many got to see-- outside of those he was comfortable with, the boy only had two expressions available: an annoyed face and a nonchalant face. Added to the fact that it took Junsu months (sometimes years) to get comfortable with someone, it was safe to say that only a select handful had the ‘privilege’ of seeing the young male act in any other way. 

minjae was usually in a permanent state of exhaustion ( & it was to be expected when all he did was run from the corporate building to the nearby coffee shop ) & today was no different. the cafe wasn’t as full as it usually was, which meant that minjae could take his time & hopefully enjoy a coffee of his own. he adds an americano to his usual order & keeps himself busy by focusing on the decor until a voice pulls him out of his lull, brown eyes snapping to the speaker, almost comically wide until he relaxes, looking more amused at the other. ❝ my boss. he’s hoping to impress the new female employee by getting her & her team coffee, which means i’m the one usually on coffee duty since every other intern seems to mysteriously disappear when he asks for volunteers. ❞ he laughs lightly, shaking his head with a smile. ❝ i’m sure there’s weirder kinks out there than being burnt by coffee & if i had to choose which coffees to pour, i definitely wouldn’t want a mocha & a latte anywhere near me. they’re not my style, something cold would be a little more refreshing. ❞

it takes him several moments to register everything. first, the surface of a conversation– and then the identity of the person giving it. jaewon’s never been terrific at identifying people, but something about this guy seems strongly familiar– the kind of nostalgia from yesterday. and then it dawns onto him– coffee. that’s it. he’s the barista of the coffee shop jaewon’s always loitering at. in other words, the taller boy most likely hates him. as does most people. nothing new.

“i wasn’t aware that you’re also the coffee police,” his voice trails along with the smoke diminishing from the cigarette the boy just crushed. it reeks, but jaewon’s able to mask his discomfort pretty well. after all, he’s been conditioned to. his eyes momentarily casts over the other’s shoulder, just for some idea on what he’s up to at this hour. “it’s not the coffee keeping me up though. what about you? you can’t get onto me about staying out late when you’re doing the same. shouldn’t you be at home?”

Home. That was a concept Junsu was all too familiar with-- and not in a good way. To him, home meant a negligent mother. Home meant burning himself on the stove when he was twelve, attempting to cook himself a warm meal since his mom wouldn’t. Home meant coming back absolutely drunk at seventeen, reeking of cigarettes, in hopes that his mother would chastise him, only to have her ignore his existence and go back to watching the television. Home-- home wasn’t something associated with positivity in Junsu’s mind. He hated going there, and made a point to visit the place as little as possible.

But it wasn’t like he’d tell Jaewon that.