INTER_STITIAL

…

if only gunwoo could take all the empty time that he had and gave it to his companion– now crying in public in the middle of a cafe. so he tries to hide him, there was no need to be ashamed but growing up as a male had given people the idea that men weren’t able to do so or they would be labeled as emotional. people even compared their crying for them to be a girl, but what was so wrong with that? any gender could cry, how fucked up the world was. he’s experienced this before– when words didn’t quite fit into the beats that he had made. sometimes his ideas would spiral out of control, unable to keep it in his grip. he assumed the other was a student, with books sprawled out to pages that contained information they swore they needed in everyday lives. is this how students felt every single day? how their education system pushed for them to do something that took up hours of their day when there were other things for them to do? chores, homework, work, and everything else in between.

they were human. it was only natural.

a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder as gunwoo sits next to him. a hug, a gentle embrace in order for him to feel better again (even if it was temporary.) there’s an apparent frown on gunwoo’s face, the creases on his forehead deepening. “don’t worry, you’ll pull through.” he smiles, patting the stranger’s shoulder now. “i know we don’t know each other, but, we need this sometimes. you know what we also need? a break. science says that your brain can’t really pick up on things after twenty minutes of focus. if i wanna push it, i’ll say about forty minutes, then you take about a ten to fifteen minute break and you should be okay.” another pat before he stands up to leave him for a brief moment. hopefully he doesn’t think that he’s gone. 

he comes back with a coffee, unsure of what he wanted so he bought a chai latte. “hopefully you like this.” he passes the drink to him, listening to the last comment. “ah.. yeah. i think we’ve experienced this kind of overwhelming stress at least once. it sucks.” he keeps his lips in a tight line. “but that means you’re not alone, you know? that it’s possible to persevere.”

crying in public has never been much of a problem for kyungsoo. even since childhood, he has felt more than his heart could contain sometimes. the space between his lungs is finite, enclosed by soft tissue and interstitial fluid—all so very human, yet it seems on occasions like these that he carries the cosmos in him. stars ready to implode, asteroids colliding, and ravenous black holes. a universe travels and swells in his pulse, but kyungsoo can’t expand to accommodate it.

luckily, he doesn’t have to bear it alone. in the stranger’s embrace, he feels the stars and comets migrate through the other’s warmth. gravity rights itself and balances the gradient; supernovae stabilise and calm to a hush. finally, the storms that had been drowning out his throughts die down enough for him to hear the conversations around them and the obnoxious drone of the coffee grinder behind the counter. it takes him a second or two, but kyungsoo eventually finds the sense to return the hug, albeit weakly. crying, sniffling, hiccuping—all of these, he can do in front of strangers, but affection? that’s always been a challenge even with the people he’s close to. (yet his hands so often feel restless, cold, forlorn in the absence of a companion.)

“you’ll pull through,” the stranger tells him, and kyungsoo is inclined to believe him. those same words would never sound right on his own tongue, but hearing it from someone else, someone who isn’t privy to his litany of shortcomings, makes the possibility that much more plausible. if he stops for breaks and forgives himself, maybe he can get through the semester. yes, that’s what he’ll do. sniffling softly, kyungsoo uses the tissue to wipe his cheeks dry again, then blows his nose. he must look a mess now, face splotchy, eyes puffy. it must be nothing new to any other student in the vicinity, but for a moment it truly felt like the end of the world. how preposterous, the universe tuts, to still be acting like a child at this age.

— @punkassdaegu-archive​ »

today was bad.

two category fours had been detected 300 kilometers southwest of kagoshima, and they were deployed within minutes. kyungsoo and sik hadn’t been co-pilots for very long, not by the former’s prior standard of five years with nari, but they drifted so well that their partnership was only inevitable. falling into the drift was easy, even during their first trial. it was the coming out that proved hardest. swimming so deep in each other’s memories, getting lost for even a fraction of a moment could have proven fatal, and that’s exactly what happened today.

they had taken care of the first kaiju in record time, but the second refused to go down as easily. after what felt like hours in the middle of the pacific ocean, the category four had ripped their jaeger’s left arm clean off, like decades of research and innovation hadn’t gone into its design, and kyungsoo felt it. they were as much a part of each other as they were their jaeger, and when kyungsoo turned to check on sik, he found himself back in himawari. suddenly, he was a pilot at the top of his game, watching a category five tear through their jaeger like paper, watching nari be taken from right beside him, watching her scream and thrash, and he felt it all.

“kyungsoo!”

he blinks and finds himself staring back at sik, both of them sporting twin bruises and patched up cuts, spoils of their victory. a second blink, and kyungsoo hears the steady rain of autumn in yokohama. that’s right—they were supposed to return to busan for their report, but they needed repairs badly and this base was closer. they’re meant to stay here for the night to rest, but that word apparently has no place in sik’s dictionary. kyungsoo doesn’t answer immediately, uncertain if he could stomach anything more than water right now. half his mind is still somewhere else, and sik’s been in there enough times to know just where. (but something tells kyungsoo he would know even without drifting together.)

                the pout wears well on eli’s face as he watches kyungsoo fetch his shoe and retie it. it’s stupid, in his opinion, how they’re still going at this when the most favorable route to travel would be to give up so he can stuff his face with something delicious. and while he would love to let his stubborn nature thrive— to continue to refuse these stupid bunnies— the rumbly in his tummy makes him waver. with a huff, he takes a hold of the prepared loops and (slowly) ties them together. “i did it,” he says firmly, head snapping up at kyungsoo with surprise (—happy happy happy—). “i did it!” and as if kyungsoo can’t see, eli holds up his shoe and waves it in the air excitedly. “you owe me lunch!”

ACCEPTING! / stuff my mom has said starters / @spoiledsovls​

the third thursday of october is met with rain, not yet a storm but heavy enough to be a nuisance. somehow it only amplifies the glow of the city, dousing the streets with a clean canvas that plays so well with seoul’s vibrant neon freckles. drowsy, the city seems to slow down as the seasons shift, and the thicket of clouds looming overhead is like an ether to the typical restlessness. a quick glance at the clock would show that they’ve yet to pass seven, but it may as well be after midnight with the shadows stretched across the streets.

sat in his spot at the bar, kyungsoo chews at the plastic straw and traces random patterns in the glass where it’s fogged up. briefly, he wonders if he fits the part more tonight, with a fresh bruise just above his brow, a busted lip, and flushed red knuckles. (he doesn’t really feel like it.) this is the first time he’s come to sinkhole sporting any kind of injury, so when the bartender doesn’t makes no comment on his appearance, kyungsoo can’t help asking why.

“i’m just focused on people not getting up in my face,” comes jae’s answer, and kyungsoo would smile were it not for the gash in his lip. instead he settles for a lop-sided smirk, but it only lasts a second before the pain hits. silence settles between them in the seconds that follow, punctuated only by the occasional clink of ice as kyungsoo fiddles with his straw, or the muffled squeaks of the rag that the bartender uses while drying glasses. at some point, a clap of thunder echoes through the streets, and kyungsoo thinks he sees the lights flicker ever so slightly.

@luxinexitium — called for a birthday starter !!!

gunwoo is welcomed to the sight of five cakes sitting at the dining table when kyungsoo opens the door for the male. at the prime age of twenty-six, he didn’t really expect this amount of cakes for one day. “you didn’t have to do this for me, you know. first of all, do i look like i can eat five cakes? you gotta at least eat one that you made for me.” he snorts, placing his jacket on top of one of the chairs before pressing the palms of his hands together, rubbing them slightly.  “woah… wow. you even made it out of my favorite flavor.” there’s a glint of shimmer in his eyes, a pout splayed across his face as he wraps his arm around the younger. he puts him in a small headlock, his knuckles ruffling against the top of kyungsoo’s head. “wooow, making me all mushy and shit.”

Ｈｉｓ　ｗｈｏｌｅ　ｌｉｆｅ has been spent learning a single trade, how to kill the monsters that went bump in the night. He walks, not runs but walks through the woods, understanding of the beast behind him is drawing closer, he can feel his breath – hear the thud of it’s feet, paws, whatever they needed to be called. It seems so dull in comparison to the way Minjin’s heart was bounding, like an engine in a car, it roared and pressed, down, down, down, speeding down highways and turning  into sharp corners. The hunter doesn’t realize he had begun running till lungs have given as much as they can, fighting inside of his ribs and he’s bending forward, as if falling with imbalance and poor vision but even that doesn’t STOP him.    Hands have begun his extra support, digging into the ground, pushing him forward just a few more steps, worms, roots, the cold and still dampen earth can be felt against and collect under his nails. Its as if all is becoming diluted and numbed, where twigs crack, silence follows – where a scream should sound from the beast sinking claws into shoulder, instead, becomes a third growl. It’s loud enough to spread over the woods, beyond Minjin and the beast which throws him to the ground, further to Kygunsoo and then wraps itself around that full moon, glowing almost as if tonight was an awakening. 

                                         ａｎｄ　ｉｔ　ｗａｓ　

The hunter twists within the beast’s grasp, claws scraping against skin but the PAIN is ignored in favor of survival, sliver blade is in his hand within a second, drawn closer to his own chest and then, he uses his wrist to pus it out and straight into the monster’s leg, it moves, it gives Minjin a second to roll away but as he does so, tenderness spreads from his ankles and higher, higher till his legs feel like a puddle of skin and blood, bone liquefied  but truth is born when eyes peer through the thick of darkness and feeling, is actuality. This is where an actual scream is born, burning his lungs, which becomes a series as the rest of his body begins to feel the same, as hips contort against his will and suddenly, right is wrong, straight is turned.  He can feel the fiend come closer again, teeth bare into his side but there is no longer sensation inside of him — only emotion which writes itself in anger. Time seems to be shape shifting around them, these woods, the moon above is calling onto him in a way that is foreign and yet, swells his beating heart into a million pieces.  Come home, come home to me, is what it says as Minjn sees black, black of pain and anger and hunger.  Creature meets creature when the change is finalized, when all bone has contorted itself into perfect beastly mold, when nails have ripped themselves off and sit in a pile along with his clothes. Claws clash against fur, ripping into what once attacked him and now, there isn’t two monsters, a witch and a hunter.                                            Now there is a witch and three monsters. 

restless, the forest thrums lowly all around them. the same static he’d felt before is crackling like lightning in his ears, to the point where kyungsoo can just barely hear his own breathing. every step he takes to put distance between himself and the other creature sends ripples through the threads that make up the cosmos. like magnets of the same pole, they aren’t meant to occupy the same space; one of them will must inevitably yield. when the creature regains enough sense it lunges at kyungsoo, who spots the distinct gleam of fangs made silvery in the moonlight. so it’s true, kyungsoo concludes while dodging the attack, then swings at the creature again with the bat. the theory had been suggested during briefing for this hunt, but at the time he hadn’t considered it too seriously. as far as he knew, ghouls exclusively ate humans, dead or alive, but something must have driven them to turn to riskier sources of power. what that something was, however, isn’t kyungsoo’s job to discover; he’s only meant to stop them from making a bigger mess. to be honest, the world really can’t afford another war between supernatural creatures. luckily, kyungsoo isn’t old enough to have experienced one, and he would like to keep it that way.

his swing misses, but that’s fine. he just needs some distance between them to re-organise his plan of attack. the ghoul moves fast, even more so than usual after having consumed vampire flesh, but kyungsoo is miliseconds faster. twigs snap and leaves scatter in the wake of the frantic dance, and kyungsoo gets a few good hits in, enough that the coat of silver on the baseball bat begins to take effect. if he ever felt so compelled, he could snap the creature’s neck with just a flick of the wrist or tear its head clean off with a firm grip. truthfully, his hands could drive a rift through the city with enough effort, but kyungsoo is better than that. killing is out of the question. it takes longer than expected and they tear a few trees down in the process, but he eventually swings hard enough against the ghoul’s head to knock it unconscious. working fast, kyungsoo retrieves a loop of rope with silver woven into the threads from the keyring at his hip. like the baseball bat, it expands to full size in his grip, from that of a bit of yarn to something long enough to bind the creature’s hands and feet. with the bat in one hand and the unconscious ghoul in the other, kyungsoo closes his eyes and reaches into the tangled cosmos once more to find minjin. what he finds, however, is only a storm of static that sets off every alarm in his body. the second ghoul, he locates easily, but the hunter...

Ａｔｔｅｎｔｉｏｎ　ｉｓ　ｓｎａｐｐｉｎｇ　； here, there and all along the edge of trees which will only push them further into the woods, into these unknown escapes built on the bones of monsters and animals. He’s never felt this before, intense fear and also noise, growing up and wrapping around his tender parts. He doesn’t think it’s a good idea to separate but he won’t protest, won’t suggest that he’s fearing for Kyungsoo’s life and his own. Head dips into a nod as the silhouettes move, as if crawling around them, waiting, watching – it was unsettling in a way that has him paying one last glance at the other. “ If something happens, scream or something.” It was the only sort of comfort he could breath out into the night air, as he moves to the left.   The woods,  as legs carry him deeper, become dense and humid – sweat beading on his upper lip, How many sceneries has he been in with such similarities ? countless but tonight something felt different, something pricked him like needles along  the tips of his ears and a moment comes, where everything pauses,  the sounds, the noises, the shadows of monsters drawing closer and Minjin’s vision is blurred at the edges — he thinks, he can almost feel or see his blood pumping there. He doesn’t notice it at first, that his fingers are cramped, curling by themselves and than, his neck feels as though it was tensing, causing a groan to escape from between slightly parted lips, he looks around, searching for anything that could be sneaking up — but it’s just him, the woods and the snapping sound of his wrists breaking in the very place they once sat. 

the figures watch them for several beats of silence, heads cocked as if gauging their reactions. when the creatures finally start moving, they do so with a litheness that reminds kyungsoo of snakes in the river. fluid, but not impervious to the messy contours of the earth. even in the scan threads of moonlight, kyungsoo can make out every step, every languid swing of their arms. in spite of the impending chase, he chuckles quietly at minjin’s response and shoots back, “have a little faith in me.”

—and then they’re off. once he starts running, he spares only one backwards glance to make sure he’s being chased by one of the creatures, and he is. no longer in hiding, it snarls and sprints freely through the woods. half a lifetime on the run has prepared him well for moments like these, but this time the goal isn’t to lose the tail. by design, kyungsoo stays on a relatively straight path, veering only occasionally to avoid running into trees, and he works to keep his breaths just as even. these are the only sounds that reach his ears: heavy footfalls and heavier breathing, but half of those disappear in the next second when his feet fail to find the ground. he plummets down a steep cliff, but his breathing remains steady.

inhale. kyungsoo closes his eyes, reaching out into the cosmos and pulling the threads around him. exhale. open once more, his eyes meet the pearly glow of the full moon, then he feels his body tearing through the cold as he falls again, this time from directly above the creature. from a keyring at his hip, kyungsoo snaps off a tiny baseball bat only a couple centimeters long, but it quickly expands to the length of his arm in his grip. still falling, falling, falling, he swings the bat down against the unsuspecting creature’s head, but it only stumbles briefly, dazed but still stood on both feet. okay, so maybe kyungsoo should have hit a little harder.

the food is just about ready, a hum of approval from the smell of the dak galbi fills his nostrils and he sighs in pure content. food is always comforting to jasper, his stomach seemingly like a blackhole, but then again, he’s pretty active in sports, the gym and the likes. he figures that with this he’s able to enjoy just about anything he wants. the sniffles coming from the latter do not go unnoticed, but jasper knows that sometimes words aren’t enough to ease someone’s emotions. to jasper, he’s more of someone that listens while advice and the likes isn’t something he’s very good at. though some would want to say otherwise.

his phone rings from the kitchen, a particular ringtone and he knows who it is — surely, he thinks, that the phone call will brighten kyungsoo even just a slightest, so he shuffles back inside briefly, keeping an eye on the meat from his peripheral as he peers in to look for the latter. “ can you pick that up? i’m more than certain it’s vesper. ” he smiles knowingly before returning to the grill. flipping the meat once more and cutting it to bite-sized pieces. his stomach rumbles and he apologises to it quietly. yeah, yeah, we’re about to eat. he reassures it as if it’s really talking to him. then again, it could have been considering it had been growling since he was at school. 

jasper strides back into the kitchen to fetch some plates to place the dak galbi onto, he gazes over to kyungsoo and arches a brow. “ you wanna invite vesper to grub with us? i don’t mind. ” and really, the male doesn’t. vesper and him have always been like two peas in a pod, somewhat inseparable and while jasper is to watch of kyungsoo, vesper is to watch over the both of them; however, jasper has absolutely no notion of this whatsoever. it’s meant to be like that, no matter how close the two males could be, even with kyungsoo. it’s not at all suspcious since jasper has always been around vesper since he was younger. 

transferring the food onto the plates, he steps back inside once turn off the grill and sets the table up, finishing up the preparations, he takes a piece of the dak galbi and walks over to kyungsoo, cooling it down briefly before holding the piece in front of the other’s mouth. “ try it, tell me what you think of it. ” he arches a brow and smiles, lightly nudging the piece of meat at the kyungsoo’s lips, chuckling shortly after with some of the sauce having been smeared on his lips. “ whether you’re going to follow your father or not, you’re technically my boss, so yeah — try it, lil boss. ” of course it’s all in good playfullness, easing the heaviness that must be the other’s thoughts.

“ your gears are turning a lot, you need to slow down, soo. ” he uses his freehand to ruffle at the other’s locks, snickering as he’s sure he’s already made a mess of the locks.

if kyungsoo were with anyone other than jasper, he might feel even an iota of embarrassment at how quickly he drops everything to answer the phone. shame, however, is just a faraway concept in this moment. like two magnetic poles, kyungsoo locates jasper’s phone in a matter of seconds and flops onto the sofa with the device glued to his ear. “vesper! comme ça va?”

while kyungsoo has known jasper for some time, vesper is a different story. the latter seems to have been in the business his entire life, part of a world that kyungsoo never cared for much. truthfully, kyungsoo had adamantly opposed his father’s suggestion of sticking another member of the mafia on him when jasper was already enough. meeting vesper for the first time started a bit rocky, and that was mostly kyungsoo’s fault. having wanted nothing to do with his father’s business, kyungsoo kept quiet, kept to himself. he only answered when spoken to directly, but the earth shifted on its axis the moment vesper offered to split a pack of tohato grape biscuits with kyungsoo. in that moment, he knew he could trust vesper. anyone who shares their snacks is a good person.

stretched across the sofa like a cat in the sun, kyungsoo chats with vesper about his first day of classes, how they bought snacks on the way home, how jasper can’t come to the phone right now because he’s busy cooking dak galbi. coincidentally, it’s just when vesper mentions that he has to discuss something with jasper that the latter suggest inviting vesper over. without wasting a second, kyungsoo sits up properly and exclaims over the phone, “you should just come over! if you don’t, jasper will eat everything like a bully, and you’re the only one who can stop him.” from the other end of the line, kyungsoo hears vesper laugh before accepting the invitation and saying he’ll be there soon.

by the time he hangs up with a cheerful ‘à bientôt,’ jasper has finished setting everything up. if only french cuisine were part of jasper’s already impressive repertoire, kyungsoo would never want for anything else. (as far as food, at least.) he’s just about to voice his thanks for the meal when jasper comes over with a piece of dak galbi and fails to feed it to him properly. it’s so not cute, and kyungsoo would kick jasper in the shin if he weren’t so hungry. instead he happily chews and licks up the sauce with a quiet smack of the lips. maman would be so upset if she heard him, but surely she would understand if she also had a bite of the best dak galbi on the entire planet.

“You are,” the stranger agrees, footsteps crunching the summer-sun-dried twigs.

Huh. Everyone’s a critic, aren’t they?

They continue hobbling through the thickets. Daylight is dimming low behind the horizon, chased by the creep of cold, brightening stars. Its pale fingers amber light have dithered, too, gently trailing the gnarled bark of the towering willow trees, their bowed and wilting branches, before receding into the veil of growing shadow. Shadow. His company frets, and he supposes he’s ought to, because terror and nightmares love to stir in the dark.

So, Mr. Idle Talk, draped along his side, tries to ward his nerves with talk of meringue.

He doesn’t like meringue. “I don’t like meringue,” he answers, too.

Yes. Everyone’s a critic.

Critic hefts him up, then, a single, sure-footed tug as they felt him slipping. Ankle aching, nerves all a jumble, hair sticking all ways and dirt on his cheek— “I don’t like meringue, and you worry a lot. Too much,” Critic says, voice rumbling and gravel-rough. His gaze lingers on the distance. “You worry too much, jumping at ‘what ifs’ like shadows you think you see. ‘What if I’m a burden?’ ‘Did that willow just move?’ ‘What if I’m bothering this man beside me?’”

…Well, that’s quite on the nose, but—

“You aren’t bothering me. And you aren’t a burden. Foolish. You weigh nearly nothing. What chased you wouldn’t eat you.”

And that, in its own strange, unorthodox way, may have been something close to reassurance.

Soon, they step over a tree root, and he says ‘careful’ as they near the tinkling sound of a coursing stream. He keeps his gaze on the trees, following moss and instinct. “It’ll age you, you know, worrying so much. Your eyes are pretty. It’ll be a shame. You’ll get crow’s feet about them, a crease between your brows.”

for someone so terrible with words, kyungsoo certainly talks a lot—or, at least, in inopportune moments like these. ordinarily he could go an entire day without uttering a single syllable, but this is far from ordinary. he certainly didn’t wake up this morning expecting to sprain his ankle and wander through a forest with a stranger. no, things would be much easier if he had done. rather than bemoan the situation, kyungsoo accepts that this is just how his day is going and allows himself to be hefted like a ragdoll over wayward roots and cheek wildflowers.

ironically, if he had sustained at least one life-threatening injury in the tumble, he would be in better shape. the downside of inheriting demonic powers: they’re terribly fickle sometimes. a sprained ankle is hardly worth wasting energy, but a snapped neck or a gunshot wound? dealt with and healed in seconds. this quasi-invincibility really is...something.

his tongue itches to say more, thoughts piling up ‘til he can feel them straining against the roof of his mouth. hesitation tastes bitter, like spoiled fruit, only he can’t spit it out. instead, he grimaces, swallows, and breathes through the bellyache. kyungsoo goes awfully quiet, eyes fixed to his clumsy steps so as not to be any more of a burden to the stranger. ‘pretty’ earns a soft laugh, though, and kyungsoo feels a bit of tension escape with the exhale. it’s not something he’s been told often. huge, weird, owlish, freaky... those, he’s more accustomed to hearing. not pretty.

“thanks..?” is the best response kyungsoo can muster on the spot. a nervous smile sits on his lips, and he shifts his weight slightly to avoid disturbing a tiny ring of ivory mushrooms. another few beats of silence, and then,

“if you don’t like meringue, what do you like? i’ll make it for you. y’know, t’say thank you. oh, any allergies? i’m allergic to peanuts, which sucks ‘cause no one really knows how to describe it when i ask how it tastes, and—”

upon the decision of jasper becoming kyungsoo bodyguard, they never really discussed what they would be doing for school. hell, jasper didn’t really know. he just chose whatever stood out to him. throughout his life it was all about the mafia, after the — incident. kyungsoo’s father’s men had found him out on the street. a tough kid trying to hold off on his own, having broken one of the male’s noses in the process. while young jasper had thought of the worst to happen, instead he’s met with laughter. he realises then that not every chapter has to end horribly.

pharmacy. he wasn’t into saving peoples’ lives (which is hilarious to think because, hey, he’s a bodyguard) but medicine had always fascinated him, how one can grind up pills and leaves, create medicine that can heal or help others who are ill. sure, his job maybe the complete opposite, depending on the task. he’s only injured, never have taken someone’s life but he was ready to do anything to become fully initiated into the mafia. kyungsoo’s father is an odd one to say the least, but rather understanding. he must have a reason why he doesn’t all jasper to go into the intense missions. then there’s music. no matter what he is doing, at the moment there is always a headphone in his ear. music had been something he had always connected to.

he realises that he’d been in his thoughts when he hears kyungsoo state that he doesn’t know. it brings a small smile on jasper’s lips. shit, who does. he can sense some difference in the vibe that had come to blanket over them and he chuckles, reaching out for the other’s hair to lightly ruffle it. he shakes his head then clicks his tongue, eyes glancing at the third mafia son. “ huh, you don’t? ” he questions again, though it was more rhetorical than something he wanted kyungsoo to respond to, eventually they reach their destination, grabbing the keys from his pocket and opening the door, allowing kyungsoo to walk in first. 

“ you know … you don’t have to know what you want to study for right away. ” he eventually says once closing the door behind them, placing their purchased goods on the counter as he prepares the food, humming in thought. “ we’ve only been in school for like what? not even a month, kyungsoo. you’ve got plenty of time so stop worrying. take a dip in everything if you have to. you’ll eventually figure out what you want. ” he shrugs shortly after, cutting up some of the ingredients and continues to prepare the food, seasoning the meet and walks out of the balcony, using the grill for the dak galbi. 

as he continues cooking, he gazes over at kyungsoo with a reassuring smile. “ relax, little boss. one step at a time, you’re starting to overwhelm yourself. no one even knows what the fuck they wanna do in their life, especially in college. ” jasper returns to cooking, humming a tune he had toyed around with during production. one of the many music classes he knows he’ll enjoy. “ everything’s gonna be okay. ” he speaks out, though he doesn’t look at kyungsoo, but he knows he was heard.

perhaps if an interdisciplinary degree program in fashion, music, fine arts, film, and botany existed, kyungsoo wouldn’t have this problem. he would have everything worked out just like everyone else, and he wouldn’t currently be nervously picking at the fabric of his limited production sweater. (maman would surely be upset with him, if only for a moment.) in his nervousness, kyungsoo doesn’t realise he’s already started on one of the bungeoppang, still warm from being sat under heating lamps. it isn’t as sweet as his typical go-to snacks, but there’s a homeliness to the red bean paste and crisp pastry edges that smooths over the anxious tension in his shoulders.

then there’s the hand on his head, ruining all the effort he’d put into styling it that morning, and now kyungsoo sort of wants to cry. unlike that moment in the classroom, though, the panic is replaced with a sense of calm that he hadn’t realised he needed until now. moving to seoul was his idea. despite his father’s resistance, kyungsoo fought for this so ardently until they came to the compromise who stands beside him at this moment. what he doesn’t want to admit is just how difficult the transition has been, because that might give his father a reason to put him on the first flight back to france. so instead of crying, kyungsoo shoves the rest of the bungeoppang into his mouth to keep from saying something he might regret.

it doesn’t, however, stop him from crying. the first sniffle is easy to conceal under the guise of scratching his nose, but the second is too loud to ignore. “you’ll eventually figure out what you want.” jasper says it so easily, like he knew just what kyungsoo needed to hear, and he says it all while prepping ingredients. a few more moments pass before kyungsoo realises he’s been stood by the door this whole time, shoes still on and arm sore from carrying a bag of snacks. if he stays here any longer, jasper might suspect something, and kyungsoo’s had enough embarrassment for one day. with one last sniffle, he wipes his cheeks dry with the ends of his sleeves, kicks off his shoes, and rushes to join jasper in the kitchen, sliding a little with his socks still on.

to keep himself busy, kyungsoo dumps all the snacks onto one of the counters jasper isn’t using. suddenly it’s a mess of every colour on the spectrum of light, shining like a hidden treasure trove, and kyungsoo reminds himself that he doesn’t have to eat everything right this instant. he does, however, pop open a small tin of matcha-flavoured wafers to snack on as he moves around the kitchen, storing the snacks in cupboards by type and colour. somewhere between organising a row of sweet buns and debating where to put the sesame crackers, kyungsoo hears jasper from the balcony: “everything’s gonna be okay.”

                eli does not appreciate being teased, thank you, nor is he a very big fan of being stranded in this very spot until he correctly ties his shoelaces together. so he watches the tutorial— eyes squinted in a glare and lips protruding in a grumpy pout— and he decides that he, without a doubt, hates bunnies and their stupid fucking ears. “fuck this,” he grumbles for good measure as he takes a hold of his laces. two bunny ears, sure, they dance and be merry together and then cross the z and— “fuck this.” he kicks off his shoes, glaring at them too, and repeats again, louder and grumpier: “i’m hungry. i want to eat.”

“ aye — it’s fine — ” as the male attempted to dispute against him being completely fine carrying the bags, he knew very well there’s not much argument when it comes to kyungsoo. he sighs before nodding his head in silence.

as they weaved in between the bodies of the people filing and scurrying to their next destination, the crowds lessen so jasper and kyungsoo were left to the calm streets, he follows kyungsoo and gives a thankful smile to the ahjumma as she prepares their order. nothing beats homemade anything, really especially with ahjummas such as this one who puts love and care in her delicious treats and food. he also gives a quick wave before bowing. “ thank you, ahjumma. we’ll eat very well. ” the old lady smiles and suddenly jasper feels a warmth of nostalgia. he does miss his ahjumma from time to time, eyes gazing up at the sky. 

hey, ahjumma. how’re you doing? have you seen eomma and appa? 

it’s not that he doesn’t believe in heaven and earth, he’s just indifferent when it comes to the concepts of different religion. like one believes in life after death, another believes in reincarnation. to be quite honest, jasper doesn’t know what he really believes in, he thinks both are plausible. he believes this more than that and so on, so he doesn’t dabble deep within the concepts or beliefs of religions and simply just lets them float in his head, twining with each other which may not sit well for those that are fully set on one religion. that didn’t matter to me, he smiles up at the sky knowing that wherever he goes, his ahjumma is resting peacefully. he makes a mental note that next time he visits newcastle that he’ll go visit her. it’s been quite a while. 

he’s pulled away from his thoughts once kyungsoo speaks up, adjusting the bags in his hands and leans in to take a bite off the skewer, the taste feeling like home (even if he doesn’t know where his home truly is for the time being, only knowing of the mafia and its lifestyle — is there really a home? family?) he scrunches up his nose. his mind is a little too loud today, he hums in thought thankful for his vacant visage that he’s known for. no one could really tell if he’s thinking too much or what may go on in his head and that’s the whole point of it. years upon years teaching himself not to show his emotions. one, to avoid questions because he could never explain himself. two, to get rid of nosy people.

“ no, first day was just a bunch of introduction and what we should be expecting for the semester. the professor also made sure we had the correct learning material, which was nice — it’s annoying when they’re not organised. ” he blatantly states as he pulls up the strap of his backpack that was sliding down, nudging his head as if to gesture for the other to speak next. “ how about, what are you studying for? ”

a particularly strong gust of wind zips between them, and kyungsoo curls into himself a little in an attempt to fight off the chill. apparently it snows much more here than back home, and kyungsoo feels equal parts nervous and excited for that. he remembers watching couples in tv dramas confess to each other in the first snow, how perfect the world seemed in moments like those. blame it on the fairy tales he read as a child, but kyungsoo believes in the picture perfect romance. it doesn’t work out for everyone—his own parents are proof of that—but it would be nice to be counted in one of those few miracles. he didn’t move halfway across the planet to re-enact iconic dramas though.

right. he’s supposed to be studying, and he aims to excel at it even if his first day started off a bit rough. tonight, he’ll sleep on time and set at least three alarms (jasper will love that), and he’ll resist the temptation to stay burrowed in his bird’s nest of a bed for an extra ten minutes. or, at least, that’s the plan. kyungsoo likes to make lists like he knows what he’s doing, but the truth is that he is rarely as put together as things look on paper. sometimes, he thinks he’s gotten where he is today mostly by luck. on the other hand, jasper always seems to have everything where he wants it. just from the answer to his question, kyungsoo imagines that jasper’s room must be neat, tidy. put together. everything in the right place because that’s how he made it.

which is why, when jasper asks what he’s studying, kyungsoo immediately looks down at his hands. hoping to waste a few seconds, and perhaps even for jasper to spontaneously forget the question, kyungsoo takes a few more bites of his odeng. it all proves futile, however, because kyungsoo hates awkward silences and he’s definitely taking too long to answer. after tossing his empty skewer into a nearby bin, he holds the second one up for jasper to take another bite, then finally admits in a quiet voice,

“i still don’t know.”

just saying it is embarrassing, and now he’s done so in front of a friend—his only friend in this country. part of kyungsoo knows he’s spoiled in that neither of his parents are upset that he hasn’t decided on an area of study yet, but that’s the thing. they don’t really expect anything of him, aside from staying out of trouble. everyone he met today knows exactly why they’re there, what they’re working towards, what they want to accomplish, who they want to make proud. they’ve got everything worked out, and kyungsoo can’t even pick a major. he knows what he likes, but to narrow his interests to what only a single degree program can offer?

𝔒𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔞 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 ;  the hunter might have related to feeling a spectrum of emotions, to shedding tears for the fallen monsters, to crying in his bed, further, further and further down the hole of sentiment. Like most tender things, it was bled out of him, with the draining of a deer he was forced to kill or his first monster, or the nights he had to shove food down his throat, even though it made him sick. Nature creates product and that was the hunter Kyungsoo knew now, standing miles away, yet, a million inches closer than they both can see. He pretends to be abrasive, to lack understanding of why guns bothered the other, why he held a hesitancy to kill but deep down, he thinks Kyungsoo is a better man, a better version of what a PERSON could truly be like. For all his build, his temper, for his ability, Minjin knows he lacks something much more profound. The touch to his elbow brings him out of his thoughts, vision blurring for a moment and it makes him reach out subconsciously, fingers wrapping around the other’s wrist  “ two of us, two of them, it’s a fair fight… what was that though, that static?” He can still feel it, ringing, crawling up his spine with unfamiliar determination. Realization hits him when the feel of the other’s skin hits him, fingers dropping and instead, rest against his weapon. “ let’s keep going, just stay close.” 

standing in line at the store, it’s far too amusing the way he watches kyungsoo run off to gather snacks, having felt the latter being close to him during the entire time as he gathered the necessary ingredients for them to make the dak galbi and now he’s ran off. he shakes his head, blinking when seeing a woman standing behind him, having noticed that he was near the conveyor belt and the woman having lesser items than him, he steps to the side and gestures for her to move forward with a small smile. she thanks him, bowing as he bows as well then peers around to look for kyungsoo.

several minutes later and a few other individuals passing jasper, he spots kyungsoo coming back with no doubt all the snacks possible and chuckles in amusement. jasper belatedly recalls kyungsoo being rich, but who is  he to say no when the latter offers to pay for their food and snacks. while jasper could also do so, he knows there will be arguments in the long run and right now, the male is hungry for food and could less who decides to pay for it, so he nods and gestures the other to the belt before unloading their purchase. “ then i will go ahead and bag them up. ” 

jasper passes to the other side, knee pressed against the button that allows the belt to move, inserting the items into the bags until they were completed. he watches kyungsoo and their surroundings as a habit, of course. he wouldn’t allow anything to happen to the latter. still, like he had always been taught, he knows that anything can happen. he’ll have to check in with the boss and others to see the updates on the mafia sons and who hasn’t been exposed. he wouldn’t be surprised if someone knew who kyungsoo really was, despite the naturality of his personality oozing the complete opposite to that of a mafia.

the male holds the bags of their groceries as he waits for kyungsoo to join him before they head out of the store and back to the bustle of the city streets, passing by several individuals rushing for work or simply enjoying a stroll around the area. jasper didn’t mind the city life, but he’s glad they were able to grab a place somewhat away though still rather close to the university of kyungsoo’s choice. eventually he spots an ahjumma handing out the said odeng they were discussing, he points over to her stand and lightly nudges kyungsoo’s arm. “ oi, there’s one over there. let’s go? ”

they probably have more snacks than actual food now, but they were running low anyway and jasper did bring it up. ignoring the temptation to go ahead and open a package of panda-shaped cookies, kyungsoo greets the staff person politely and makes light conversation. when the employee asks if they’re preparing for a party with all these snacks, kyungsoo laughs and responds with a playful ‘party of two!’ paying for everything goes without a hitch, and kyungsoo makes sure to thank the employee before returning to jasper’s side.

it’s only then that he realises just how many snacks they’d bought. having grown used to having groceries delivered to his home in france, he can’t help feel guilty at the sight of jasper carrying all their bags. so he snatches one of the lighter bags and leaves no room for argument, trying to help as best as he can even if he can barely carry his own backpack sometimes. outside once more, kyungsoo sticks even closer to jasper as they walk down the busy street. in the short time they were in the store, the city seems to have woken up a bit. students like themselves travel in packs, probably on the hunt for food after a long day, and office workers either rush to their last few duties or straight home. kyungsoo is no stranger to crowds, but this is an entirely new country, and he would would very much like to avoid causing any trouble for jasper whenever possible.

gradually the crowds thin, and soon they’re on the narrow but familiar street leading up to their apartment building. it’s something of an islet in the sea of glass and cement, a decently-sized neighbourhood that kyungsoo would feel safe exploring more later. the complex they’re staying at has a tiny courtyard between buildings, which kyungsoo had inspected on his first night in seoul, plucking a few flowers he hadn’t seen before to carefully press between heavy books. as kyungsoo struggled to deal with the jetlag, he and jasper had also found a few restaurants and food tents that kyungsoo insisted they re-visit. his favourite part of the neighbourhood so far, by far, is the little old lady selling snacks on the side of the street.

as jasper points her out, kyungsoo rushes over and shifts the grocery bag to hang on the bend of his elbow while he searches for his wallet. the ahjumma recognises both of them from the previous evening and greets them with a smile as warm as the food she’s selling. kyungsoo greets her just as kindly and orders two skewers of odeng, plus two bungeoppang for early dessert. somehow he manages to hold it all between both hands after paying, and he sends a cheerful ‘please work hard and rest well!’ to the ahjumma before leaving with jasper. it doesn’t take long for him to finish half of his odeng, and he holds the other skewer up in front of jasper so he can eat, too.

ACCEPTING! / stuff my mom has said starters / @spoiledsovls​ (gunwoo!)

kyungsoo doesn’t mean to cry in the middle of a busy cafe, but that’s just how his day is going. his first semester was hard, marked by nearly daily all-nighters and a minimum of one breakdown every week from frustration alone. he hates struggling to keep up with readings, but he loathes asking for help even more. it doesn’t make sense that he’s the only one having a hard time, and he knows he should do better than this. someone told him that the second semester would be easier, that he’d know what to expect by then, but the truth is that it’s still just as difficult. all that’s changed are the textbooks and lecture halls; everything else still makes him want to vomit from the anxiety.

midterms are fast approaching, and kyungsoo just wants to study. with three books laid open and his tea forgotten, he’s begging his brain to just focus for once, to make sense of the characters printed in neat rows. no matter how desperate, nothing ever works, and that’s when he loses it. hands running down his face, kyungsoo exhales a sigh so heavy that it could rattle the earth. as his hands drop to the table with a pathetic thump, tears spring up in his eyes and fall faster than he can register. colour floods his cheeks, but not from embarrassment, and a fit of unattractive hiccups follow shortly. he barely has enough strength to accept the offered tissue, and kyungsoo just feels worse because he’s put the stranger sat across from him in such an awkward position.

inexplicably, though, the stranger doesn’t leave. maybe he just doesn’t want to bother finding a new seat, but part of kyungsoo hopes it’s out of kindness that the stranger talks him through the panic. some minutes later, the bawling has been reduced to sporadic sniffles, and kyungsoo has enough control to attempt a smile as he meets the stranger’s gaze. it probably comes out as more of a grimace, so he murmurs a quiet thank you to show his gratitude. a few more beats of silence transpire as kyungsoo sorts through his jumbled thoughts for the right words.

suppose it works in both their favours, kyungsoo doesn’t look anything like a third son of a mafia or anywhere related to it. so it’s not hard for either of them to hide the fact that they’re associated in a mafia, although kyungsoo had already been certain he wanted nothing to do with the mafia life. it makes his job easier though, eyes kept solely on kyungsoo whenever they’re away from each other. of course he can’t be around kyungsoo all the time, otherwise it’d be suspicious. he brings slender digits up to sift through his dark tresses, humming as they continue on their way back to the apartment. 

the air away from the campus was fresh and now jasper is more than content with everything. his backpack slung over his shoulder as the keys jingle in his pocket every so often, the lanyard hanging from it. he brings up his phone for a brief second, eyes gazing down the ingredients of dak galbi, jotting down what he’ll need or what he won’t before he stops in front of the convenience store, walking into it while making sure kyungsoo follows suit. the amount of times the latter would walk about carelessly then again, not many realise that this ball of fluff personified as a person would be one of the three sons to a mafia.

❝ well, your time isn’t up. ❞ he gives a shrug at that, eyes gazing at the items on the shelves, grabbing what was needed as they walk among the isles. ❝ so no, i’m not here to reap your soul, we are friends though — you’re not wrong about that. ❞ he speaks in a monotone, more focused on the ingredients and tossing them into the basket. once they arrive at the meat, he takes his time before picking the package suitable before turning to face kyungsoo. ❝ i think you’re thinking about … the odeng. we can visit one of the ahjummas on our way back and get some made by them. ❞

the two males really shouldn’t work, but they do and jasper actually thinks it’s quite amusing seeing just how flabbergasted everyone tends to get when see the two around each other like it’s … natural. well, it kind of is.

just before they head to front to check out, jasper halts before drifting his gaze towards the other male. ❝ since we’re here, we might as well get stocked up on snacks … ❞

the moment they’re outside, kyungsoo feels a sense of calm wash over him. it was his decision to study here, to take his chances in this overcrowded city, but he still misses the lush expanse of mountain ranges and twisting rivers of provence. in times like these, a homesickness for fields of lavender and apple orchards strikes hard. where his feet once traversed thick waves of grass and wildflowers, they now stumble on hard planes of concrete and cement. even the sun and stars feel different in this corner of the world, despite being the very same ones he would watch from the estate’s gardens. with the right company, though, those struggles seem so far away.

steps light with the promise of dak galbi, kyungsoo shifts his attention to taking in everything they pass. from what he’s seen so far, seoul is all clean lines and forward thinking, though influences of the nation’s long history still persist. excluding a winter trip to new york some years ago, he can’t remember seeing so much glass and pavement at once. in provence, it was like they never wanted to be found, their villages nestled right along the mountainsides, twisting with each curve. sometimes, kyungsoo swears he lived in a fairy tale for most of his childhood, always bound by aged brick and streetside cafés, cassonade and sel de mer.

so entranced by the busy lanes and occasional street performers is kyungsoo that he very nearly misses how jasper ducks into a convenience store. fortunately, kyungsoo doesn’t wander off this time, and he makes sure to stay close to jasper as they go through the aisles. as embarrassing as it may be, he wouldn’t put it past himself to get lost even in such a small store.