❛くそ— fuck that.

moon junsu, the (illegitimate) son of a chaebol and resident screw up.  mobile nav.

[junmni-blog]

himorins.

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

“And that’s why you just stop letting yourself get excited.” Junsu nodded, sighing as he leaned back against the wall. The girl’s words had certainly struck a chord with Junsu. All his life, he had felt exactly what she had been describing. From hoping his mother would pay attention to him when he was younger, to hoping he’d get the day off at work-- everything, no matter how big or small, usually ended in disappointment. Over the years, Junsu had grown rather jaded and grumpy towards as a direct result of the constant disappointment he was always feeling. “Trust me. Life is way easier when you don’t give a shit. Try it sometime.”

[junmni-blog]

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.

tagged by: @svzzvgv and @rollingstvne ( thank you friends! ;u; ) tagging: anyone who sees this and wants to! feel free to tag me in the reply if you decide to do it! i would love to see your answers!

[junmni-blog]

moondeis.

“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? 

He brought a hand up, in an effort to hide the chuckles that were falling from his lips. “Listen! It’s funny, okay?” Reaching over, he grabbed a mirror off the side table, holding it up so the other male could catch a glimpse of his reflection as well. “Check that out! It’s funny, right? You look like a fuckin’ clown!” At this point, Junsu was practically reeling over in laughter-- this was one of the best things he had seen in awhile. “Come on, dude! No need for harsh words-- I’m really good at drawing, remember? You don’t look... that bad... Hey, on the bright side, maybe you’ll learn to drink in moderation from now on, yeah?”

[junmni-blog]

dowohe.

        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. 

As soon as he felt the blanket pulled off his frame, the male let out a loud groan, before rolling over to face the back of the couch. If he just pretended that there wasn’t a loud girl yelling at his face, and that the sun wasn’t shining its obnoxious rays into his face, he could just fall asleep again, right? He nestled his body back against the couch’s fabric, desperately attempting to will himself back to sleep, but to no avail. Woohee had succeeded with her task-- Junsu was (unfortunately) awake. Letting out a loud sigh, he rolled back over to face the girl, an arm slung across his eyes as he groaned. “Seriously? It’s like... five-fucking-am.... Let me go back to sleep, you little brat...” Junsu waited for her to leave, but upon the lack of retreating footsteps heard, he moved his arm away, cracking an eye open to stare at the young female. “Tch. Fine. What is it that you want, huh?”

[junmni-blog]

mabki.

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 .

The boy is still heavily suspicious of the girl before him. Here she was, with full knowledge of who he was, yet she claimed that she didn’t know him. That had to be a lie. Last he had checked, the postal service didn’t keep records of people’s faces so that couriers could recognize the recipients. “If you don’t know me... How were you able to match my name to my face, huh? Did you look me up online before coming all the way out here?” He knew he was being overly paranoid, but he couldn’t help himself-- There was the matter of the fact that Junsu hadn’t ordered anything. So who the hell was sending him a package? Narrowing his eyes, he watched the girl rummage through her bag, appraising as to whether she was a threat or not. Was she dangerous? It didn’t look like it, but looks could be deceiving. “Sorry, pal. But I’m not signing anything until you tell me who sent that to me. This is really suspicious, okay? You can’t blame me for being on edge.”

[junmni-blog]

❱ ❱ ❱ for @leechxhee​ ❱❱ for reblogging and liking this. ❱❱

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. 

Junsu wasn’t at work today, and instead running his dirty clothes to the local laundromat. Unfortunately for him, it was more crowded than usual. Peeking about the crowd, Junsu strained his neck up, trying to figure out what had started the commotion. Finally, he saw-- a dreaded celebrity. Letting out a huff, he shoved his way through the crowd (much to the chagrin of the girls) before elbowing his way into the laundromat. He shot the other male a glare, before taking a spot at the washing machine next to him. “Dude. Don’t you have your own like... private washing machine? Why come down here? Or did you just want to see how us poor people live?”

[junmni-blog]

❱ ❱ ❱ for @intrcvenous​ ❱❱ for reblogging and liking this. ❱❱

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. 

Leaning against the wall, Junsu lights his own cigarette, inhaling deeply before the smoke billowed out of his mouth. A little ways from his is the hotel boy, puffing out smoke of his own. He’s still dressed in his work uniform, so Junsu assumes he’s on a break. “You come here often?” It’s a terrible introduction, but Junsu’s never really been good at holding conversation. Furthermore, he isn’t sure why he’s even talking to hotel boy in the first place. Perhaps it’s the air of familiarity that had been developed about the boy. They never spoke, but they always smoked in the same place at the same time on work days. What was the harm in starting a casual conversations? “So... What exactly do you do at the hotel? That is-- I assume you work there-- Unless you don’t and you just like to wear their clothes for some weird reason--”

[luthienne]

In me, something is broken. I try over and over again to understand what happened.

Anaïs Nin, from Nearer the Moon: The Previously Unpublished Unexpurgated Diary, 1937-1939 (via theunrequitedlover)

[junmni-blog]

❱ ❱ ❱ for @091798​ ❱❱ for reblogging and liking this. ❱❱

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 kept his distance from the stranger for about fifteen minutes, before growing curious as to why the boy was so silent. Most people would have placed an order or left by now. Making his way over to the stool where the male had sat down, Junsu looked at him with a speculating glance. “Uh.... hi...? Are you just chillin’ here, or are you gonna buy something? I’m supposed to kick you out if you don’t buy one of our dumb overpriced drinks, but I don’t really care... What’s with the get-up, by the way? Hiding from someone?”

[junmni-blog]

rollingstvne.

    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?

“Eh. The only alcohol-coffee mix we have here is Irish coffee... and I’m pretty shitty at making that one, so I wouldn’t take that risk. Just get a basic latte or something. Or-- since you hate coffee-- Juice? Wouldn’t that be cute? Big, tall, badass you sipping on a cup of orange juice.” He pauses to laugh, before leaning in and listening to the older’s hushed words. A smirk starts playing at his lips immediately, and he nods, agreeing to Tanner’s plan before even hearing it. If there was one thing Junsu enjoyed, it was causing trouble-- and ditching work and his bitchy manager, of course. “My shift doesn’t technically end ‘till three pm... but I can take my lunch break soon. What you got in mind? It better be worth me sacrificing my one free smoking hour I get in this hell hole--”

[junmni-blog]

❱ ❱ ❱ for @kimoriz ❱❱ for reblogging and liking this. ❱❱

“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. 

His work shirt was crumpled about his body, and Junsu was messing with his tie, desperately trying to arrange it into a somewhat presentable shape. It was difficult, as one would imagine. Getting dressed and navigating crowded Seoul was no easy feat. In the midst of his hurry, Jun accidentally shot one of his elbows out. The moment was almost like slow motion-- he felt his body connect to a flimsy styrofoam cup, and then the next thing he knew, coffee was being spilt on to a poor bystander. How ironic-- the coffee came from the very cafe he worked at. Was this just a crappy form of karma or something? “Ah, fuck! Shit-- Shit, I’m sorry--” His hands quit fiddling with his tie, and he moves to grab some crumpled napkins from his pocket, practically throwing them at the female. “Just-- Just here-- Please don’t complain to my manager-- Please--”

[junmni-blog]

mabki.

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 ?? “

The sound of a soft voice lulls him from a cigarette induced trance. Jolting his eyes open, the male blinks several times, before turning to face the origin of the sound. It was a girl. She seemed nice enough-- bubbly and happy. Unfortunately, those were traits that Junsu wasn’t particularly fond of. “Yeah-- That’s me--” He begins reaching a hand out, ready to take the packaged that the girl had brought with her, before sudden realization dawned over him: he hadn’t ordered anything recently, and what’s more, why would a mail courier be able to associate his name to his face? They hadn’t met before, had they? Reeling his hand away, Junsu narrowed his eyes, staring the female down. Just who was she? “How the hell do you know me?” The boy asked rather bluntly, cigarette dangling from his mouth. “And where’d this box come from, huh?”

[junmni-blog]

iiraeth.

✖ — 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. 

He sighs again, leaning against the older. “I shouldn’t complain, though. This just means more cash I can blow on cigarettes, right? And that’s less time that I have to spend at home with the bitchy mother.” A weary chuckle escapes his lips, and he takes another sip from his beer, remaining quiet for a few more seconds before he speaks again. “But that’s enough about me, hyung--” The male sits up now, turning to look at Kitae with concerned eyes. “Why are you not sleeping well? Is it ‘cuz it’s too loud here? I can get you some noise canceling headphones! I’ll have to save up for a bit, though-- Or I can help you move you to a better room--” He trails off, nodding a bit. “I just-- I just want you to be comfortable, hyung. It’s the least I can do, after all you’ve done for me...”

[junmni-blog]

voltagehq.

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’s always the boss, isn’t it? Goin’ after the hot chicks in the office?” Junsu muses, resting his elbows on the counter and leaning in towards the other. Sure, his manager would have a fit if she saw him being so lazy right in front of a customer-- but she wouldn’t be coming in for at least fifteen more minutes, so he was fine. “I mean, that’s how it always is in the movies, right? The greasy boss manages to get the smoking hot babe? How come the poor intern never gets the girl? You’re the one actually doing all the back breaking work that is coffee transport.” He laughs a bit, pausing to arrange some napkins on the counter. This guy seemed alright-- he wasn’t immediately put off by the gruff Jun speaking to him, nor did he seem too uncomfortable with the barista’s crass language. Junsu really should have started talking to him sooner-- maybe work would be a little more bearable that way. “Ah, you like it cold? So you’re one of those people with that ice cube fetish? Interesting. And in all that office attire, I never would have pegged you as a kinky person. You should show it off more! Maybe you’d get the cute girls instead of your boss. Speaking of your boss-- what company do you work at? Or-- is it really work if you’re an intern? Do they pay you at all?”

[theproblemswithmissingyou]

I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you how bad it hurt and that I could feel time run out; I could feel my blood run dry in my own veins, but I just waited. I waited patiently until the feeling got to be too much and my head became too numb to notice.

Anonymous (via jihxvn)

[jihen]

[junmni-blog]

ahndidas.

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.

“Eh. I like hanging out here. Don’t question me, jerk.” He debates pulling out another cigarette, but noting the other male’s aversion to the sticks, refrains from doing so. “If you want answers from me, you gotta do two things: first, give me some cash. I’m running low on cigs again-- and second--,” he paused, narrowing his eyes at the older, “you share first. What are you doing out here? It’s like one am... only the thugs and delinquents are out at now.” He gestured to himself, pointing a hand at his own body. “Case in point. Unless you’re here to vandalize walls with me? That makes you a thug too, though. I found a really nice place and I got hooked up with some nice spray paint-- Wanna join in on some delinquent fun? I promise, I won’t shove you at the cops if and-or when they show--”