hpjskip-blog

[hpjskip-blog]

hpjevan:

deja vu // @hpjskip

the population of seoul is approximately ten million people; that’s about three million more than evan is used to.

one would think that after having been in new york for something close to a decade, he would be more used to the densely populated city, but school wasn’t the only reason he wanted to leave new york so badly. he never thought he would return to somewher so cluttered with people, the plan had always been to travel to obscure corners of the world but lo and behold, fate has a different take on how his life should go. 

so there he is, the soles of his white– now almost grey– converse rhythmically hitting the concrete sidewalk until they reach the crosswalk where the rhythm of his soles cease, replaced by the dinging sound of the counter counting down seconds until the mass of individuals can being crossing the street. this is his life now, constantly surrounded by people too busy to look anywhere but themselves but evan is different; or at least he likes to think so. 

people watching has become an oddly strange habit of his– perhaps not so much odd anymore as it, too, has become habitual for a good percentage of the global population. dark brown hues scan the sea of bodies behind the lenses of his glasses, faces becoming a blur until he looks back on one individual, a face he thinks he recognizes. it had been san francisco in the year 2000 when they met, two young kids tossed into daycare as their parents ran busy lives, too busy to even take care of them. skip, he remembers the name vividly– he liked playing with him then. 

there’s a moment of doubt as to whether or not he really is who evan thinks he is, but there really is only one way to find out. 

“SAN FRANCISCO?!” 

it’s louder than he expected and also possibly the worst choice of vague words possible, but the deed has been done. now to see if it will have any effect on the targeted individual.

Skip spends a genuinely stupid amount of his time seeking out and eating various desserts.

It’s one of the many aspects of city life he thoroughly appreciates.  

The browser on his phone is filled with tabs upon tabs of reviews on sweet shops in Hapjeong (the only thing in his life he actually bothers to study up on). He’d considered a few times starting a blog to document these endless sugar coated ventures to make back some of the dough he’d spent on sweets, but he’d never really been one for writing. He also isn’t much of a critic, either. Every dessert is equally deserving of love. Except anything with raisins. Hard pass. 

On this day, the venue of choice is a cafe that specializes in cheese tarts. The idea of cheese + tart initially disturbed him — similar to the concept of a savory pie — but reviews hadn’t failed him before. Which is why he now held a pink paper package in hand, inside tucked a freshly baked tart. Just thinking about it has his mouth watering, but thoughts of cheesy tarts are interrupted by a loud holler of SAN FRANCISCO coming from behind him. 

How he knew he was the target of this wild yell is a mystery to even him. 

He turns on heel, eyes wide as saucers when they fall upon the source. 

“Evan?”

Childhood playmate from the year 2000, somehow turned up at the same place at the same time in an entirely different country. The city is truly filled with boundless miracles. 

He hustles over as fast as his legs will take him — which is fairly fast, as he’s a pretty long guy — hand raised into a pointed finger the whole way over. 

“...Dude, what?! How long have you been here?”

[hpjskip-blog]

hpjestella:

@hpjskip

she’s running on empty here, unsure of what is actually keeping her going. everything slowed down when they came in here, way way way down. waiting for a band you’ve never heard of is about as exciting as you’d think it’d be— the people around her do little to entertain her, mostly because she can’t focus. all their words sound jumbled and she’s not entirely sure what they’re supposed to be doing. they have a table, that’s something. 

leaning back, shoulder to shoulder with her anchor for the night (which is very telling of what kind of night it is. case and point: she’s not picky) she speaks without looking away from the stage, the corners of her mouth turned up into a desperate sort of half-smile. 

“do you… think… the band…” slow and deliberate, she wants to make herself heard, even if there’s no reason for skip to know anything more than she does. “is… going… to show up?” 

a pessimistic thought, maybe, but she’s laughing and drumming her fingers against the table-top, seeming quite excited in spite of the circumstances. someone is ready to party, at least.

“we should’ve gone to that party instead— i swear i’d listen to just about anyone who steps up on that stage right now.” an elbow to his side for emphasis, and estella shoots him a look before leaning forward again, hunched over the table. “please. it’d be funny.”

He's feeling tired, and that's never a good sign.

Head is drooped into a propped hand, occasionally falling against his fellow anchor's shoulders, with eyes lulling shut in momentary spurts, though he tries in vain to keep himself conscious. He'd downed one too many drinks in too short of a time frame, and the upcoming band had yet to waltz onto the stage to save him from an impending nap.

Stella's question whips his attention back, eyes wide, brain suddenly in focus. Well — as much focus as is possible through a booze induced haze. "I hope so, man," came his reply, though words are very much slurred. "I'm gettin' sleeeepy."

He nods rather fervently in response to her statement, though the nods came to an abrupt stop with the elbow jabbed into his side. "...For real?" He flashed her a lopsided grin. "I'll do it, no joke.” Another pause, mouth spreading into a full on 100 watt smile. “We could duet?”

[hpjskip-blog]

jieunhpj:

( kkt - kipkip ) uhhh  ( kkt - kipkip ) the guy that lives there ( kkt - kipkip ) ㅋㅋ ( kkt - kipkip ) i’ve never seen one on sale before, but would you buy one for me if i asked nicely 😇

( kkt - master world class jieun ) you got me there 😅 ( kkt - master world class jieun ) of course! ( kkt - master world class jieun ) how much does it cost though? cause i’m broke 😓 

[hpjskip-blog]

hpjongin:

“jeez, i was just teasing you. what are you, twenty-one now? still have to get mom’s permission to have a beer?” it’s just more teasing, of course, but also somewhat genuine on jongin’s part. important to remember: all in good spirit. jongin proceeds to pull his windbreaker on over his shoulder and flatten out the wrinkles with his palms before slipping each respective appendage into the front pockets of his trousers.

he also lets skip be the first to head out the door. immediately, the cool summer evening air kisses their cheeks. despite the relatively late hours, the street is anything but quiet — good for slipping through with minimal call to attention.

inside the bar, the air is stale, yet comfortingly so. the clink of glass and clack of billiard balls only reinforce the kind of unspoken quality in the air that attests to leisure and levity. “i’m going to grab a wheat beer. do you want anything?”

Skip’s face flushes. “Oh! Uh... haha... yeah, I was just uh, playing along.” He wasn’t, and he does still tell his mom where he is headed on most days, and checks in regularly while he’s out. He’s never considered that this likely isn’t a normal thing for a grown adult to do. How embarrassing. 

He leads the way out to avoid further shame, and the atmosphere on the streets provides instant comfort. There is a certain relish that comes with being surrounded on all sides by the ebbs and flows of a crowd — not because he seeks to blend, but rather, he just loves people. 

The same feeling washes over him in the bar, though the people within are different than those milling outside. Cooler, he supposes he can put it — much like how he sees Jongin. His eyes dart away from his deductions to focus on Jongin’s question. “Uh... I’ll just have what you’re havin’, I guess?” 

* DOG YEARS ,

[hpjskip-blog]

[hpjskip-blog]

jieunhpj:

it’s that time of the night where the sun dips low behind the skyline and the city sleeps around her. that time of the night where no excuse can warrant a walk through the darkest part of the neighborhood. here she is, anyway: all bright eyes and lazy stroll, chasing light where there is none.

she doesn’t start with a destination in mind. not that it matters, really - more often than not, she’d find herself at the complete opposite end of town, phone dead and buses no longer running. tonight is no different. she’s on cloud nine, merely following where her steps take her with no place to be, no place to go. that is until white noise cracks wide open, making way for the piercing echo of a man from down below?

here?

“who’s that? who are you?” is her immediate response, eyes blinking slow, pupils blown wide as she looks around. she squints through the dark, heartbeat a rapid throb against her chest as she takes a step forward, then another. “oh my god, what the fuck—” she stops just short of another step, lingering on the very edge of a very well hidden manhole. legs crouch down, gaze peering through the hole, but the darkness of the night only bruises the hole tenfold. she’s at a loss, having never chanced upon someone in a manhole at this god-awful hour. “um, okay. hold on.” a breath to recollect her thoughts, heart racing through fight and flight as she all but dangles her legs off the edge, rallying behind instinct rather than logic.

“are you okay? how’d you even fall in, ahjussi?!” before she knows it, she’s making her way down, fingers clung tight to the metal rungs that line the side of the pit.

“if my ass hits your face, i’m really not sorry.”

There she was — the miracle, peeking down into into his smelly prison with wide eyes. He could almost cry. He'd already mentally prepared himself for a night of horrors trapped in the confines of a musty manhole, but freedom promptly knocked at his door.

And then freedom was climbing down into the manhole, butt directly in his face.

Why is she climbing down?

"Dude, what are you doing?!" He hollers, enclosed space amplifying the sheer panic in his voice. “Now you're gonna be stuck t ------ oh."

He knows her. Oh, boy, he knows her. A late-night, drunken, and fairly awful hookup, was followed by him asking her to text if she made it home safe. He never got a message. He had been genuinely butthurt about it for awhile, but that was months ago... and now she was here, pressed just a a bit too close for comfort in the tight space of a god damn manhole.

“...So I guess you made it home, huh. I kinda started to think you were homeless."

[hpjskip-blog]

jieunhpj:

@hpjskip​

( kkt - kipkip ) skip :( ( kkt - kipkip ) word on the street is they’re closing up our manhole ( kkt - kipkip ) :(( ( kkt - kipkip ) what if it’s true?

( kkt - master world class jieun ) WHAT???????? 😱 ( kkt - master world class jieun ) who on the street said that!!! ( kkt - master world class jieun ) how much would it cost to buy a manhole 🤔

[hpjskip-blog]

so... my flight last night was cancelled when the plane was already fully boarded, about to take off, because apparently some airports have curfews??? i... have no clue lmao. now i’m not leaving for florida until early july, so i will be here for the event, and if anyone wants to start a thread with skip or chaemin, i am able to write up starters/do replies! 

[hpjskip-blog]

hello hello! i’m flying out to florida to visit my grandma, so my activity will be pretty sparse for the next week or so. i’m going to try and do replies when i can, but since i’ll be entirely mobile, it might be a little tough lol. i’ll still be around to plot & chat in ims though! :^)

[hpjskip-blog]

hpjongin:

@hpjskip​

“dude, don’t tell me that american girl wasn’t giving me googly eyes all night.” jongin stacks the rest of the dirty plates atop one another before placing his hands under the faucet and turning the valve. “man, i should’ve covered her dinner or something. what if she was the one? our lives are based on happenstance, you know? i guess we’ll never know if we would’ve had cute kids, or some shit.” a joke, of course (as if he has the money…), which he lets skip know by squeezing his shoulder and flashing his infamously boyish smile.

jongin stuffs his hands into the front pockets of his trousers and gives skip a long, curious look. skip — he loves the milkshake-loving, classic rock-adoring, textbook-loathing, summertime-smitten skip. god, can’t you just stay twenty-one forever?

“hey, think your mom would be cool if i took you down to the new dive bar a couple of blocks down? it smells heavily of testosterone, but they have some pool tables and good music.” jongin allowed a look of mild interest and feverishness to visit his usually unruffled countenance. 

the night came slowly, softly, even in the late hours that it had become. his whole being was abandoned to the soothing and penetrating charm of the night; and, of course, the inevitable effort of trying to pry into skip’s life. for safety purposes only.

Skip really likes Jongin. Even though he sometimes treats Skip like he’s ten years younger than him rather than a measly two — noogies and all — he thoroughly enjoys his company. He’s witty, he’s intelligent, and he’s super cool. And really, what else do you need?

He can’t help the grin on his lips throughout Jongin’s spiel about his missed connection, gangly elbows resting on countertop. The smile only doubles in size with the proposition of a wild night out. 

“Oh yeah, definitely!” He took a beat, eyes moving to peek through the door at his mother, who was currently making idle chatter with a few departing customers. “...I mean... she doesn’t need to know?” He shrugged, pulling a dirtied dishrag off of his shoulder and tossing it onto the counter beside him. “You had me at dive bar, dude.” 

Skip has never been one for passing up an opportunity to get himself involved in some mess.

* DOG YEARS ,

[hpjskip-blog]

hpjseokbeom:

it’s a nice day, really. definitely the type of weather that says summer is approaching. the type of weather that should get the words flowing because it’s the type of weather that lets his creativity bloom and thrive. but he’s stumped, blocked, and feeling stress creeping on the back of his head.

if he can’t write, what kind of person would he be?

“superheroes in love?”

seokbeom frowns, biting his tongue to keep himself from going on a spiel about how this is serious, skip, this is my job. it’s skip, his best friend! instead, he lies down on the grass and uses his notebook to cover his face. he’s tired, that’s all. tired from working a job where customers treat him like shit and tired from… well, life.

“i should’ve focused more on like, math when i was younger,” he sighs. “i could be a scientist or something like that. could’ve been bruce wayne or tony stark!”

Skip knew the moment it left his mouth that his suggestion was not one of any worth. He feels bad, really, he’s just never been good with anything regarding music, aside from listening to it, and even then, he’s never been very good at decoding lyrics. He didn’t realize Afternoon Delight was about sex until he was well into adulthood.

He curls his legs up, sitting criss-cross applesauce with his hands slumped loosely in his lap, face scrunching up at Seokbeom’s suggestion.

“I mean, that would be like, super cool, but that’s not really what scientists do, dude.” He shares this as though it isn’t common knowledge. “And honestly? I think writin’ music is way cooler. You get to like... share a message and stuff. Talk about your feelings, and all that.”

[hpjskip-blog]

hpjwen:

junhui’s fingers are a whirlwind of deft flicks and clicks, thumbs idling over a series of inputs that provide a paragon of rote memorization at its finest. wholly necessary, junhui muses through his lethargy-addled brain, since he’s certain the dud’s been functioning at (optimistically) a quarter of its full capacity since the weather peaked thirty-one degrees. and disintegrated further, still with every stilted wash of summer air through their open window. for the fourth time in the last hour, junhui laments not investing in centralized air conditioning. 

with his hair in tousled disarray (something not likely resolved any time soon what with the sporadic treks of his free hand though it between levels) and the fabric of his shirt tugged absently somewhere above his navel, junhui paints the picture of Tentative Resignation. an understandable relationship, he figures, to have with midsummer seoul.

on the screen, his character plummets to an untimely demise. relatable.

from his perch against the armrest, dark eyes slide from the carnage on the screen to his roommate, splayed out at the bottom of the couch as if the position itself would expedite the whole evaporation/cool-down process over his gangly limbs. skip, he imagines, looks almost as miserable as junhui feels.

“not particularly,” he offers without a beat of silence, before he considers an amendment. “but why the hell not? ‘skip, son to - his mother. and friend to all. or most. some - people. i think. made some kick-ass paninis once. they will be missed.’” idly, he fishes out an ice cube from the glass of water that had been left mostly forgotten and drops it down the back of the younger boy’s shirt charitably. “you’re welcome. now write mine.”

He’s up with a small yelp the moment the ice hits his back. He swears he can hear it sizzle against his skin. The thought makes him hungry - why does everything make him hungry.

But he quickly relaxes into the slow drip of cool water down his back, letting out a thankful sigh of relief, and allowing himself to fully acknowledge Jun’s eulogy. “...Heeeey, wait a minute.” His eyes narrow. “...I’ve made kickass paninis twice, dude. Remember those ham and cheese ones? Sometimes they show up in my dreams.” 

He takes a beat to grab the glass of water Jun had just been dipping his sweaty fingers in, taking down a large gulp of his contents. It tastes a little salty. He’s even thirstier now. 

“Alright... Junhui. Owned like... everything in our apartment. And was really, really bad at video games.” He takes a pause to pointedly stare at the screen, and the poor character’s corpse. “Also stuck his sweaty fingers into water cups and made them all salty and gross... but he did drop ice cubes down my shirt when it was super hot.” He offers up a sunny grin in Jun’s direction at the last bit. “I’ll miss him a lot, and so will half the bosses in this town.” 

He sets the water back onto the table, looking incredibly pleased with himself. “How was that?”

[hpjskip-blog]

taehpj:

tae couldn’t deny at first it was a bit embarrassing to say the least when skip’s mother would compliment him on his good work, or even when she would have sit down with him to just talk. it was a rather awkward moment to attempt a normal conversation with the person he was sleeping with mother. now, it wasn’t really how tae used to be to just go to anyone and be okay with hooking up, and sleeping around but often he would find himself bored and it wasn’t as if he was selling himself. there weren’t any bad tensions between the two either. as time went by it had gotten much easier to get used too.

he was used to skip’s rambling, and most times tae would find himself contributing to the ramble but adding his input. of course, tae liked to talk as much as the next person but at that point he was distracted by something else, and could only tune into bits and pieces of the other’s ramble about why halloween should be celebrated which he didn’t think was a bad idea, but korea’s culture was much different than where skip lived. 

with a smile he looked up at the male, and nodded. he was a bit tired of the leftovers that the restaurant had to offer and wanted something a bit different. so, tae stood up and stretched a bit. 

“ that sounds good besides i’m starving. ” he said with a sheepish laugh, patting his stomach lightly. “ you wanna go to the usual spot, or should we try something different today? ”

Skip was also starving, despite having just utterly destroyed an entire container of leftover noodles in the midst of his impassioned speech. “Somethin’ different could be fun,” he replied, hands stuffed deep into pockets, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. “What sounds good to you?”

He could go for a real juicy hambak steak. 

He felt a rumble in his stomach. Then he heard the rumble in his stomach. 

An embarrassed laugh escaped through his lips, as he pulled a hand out from his pocket to bring it to rest on his gut. “I think he’s angry at me.” The he in question being his stomach, which became clear by the way he stared fondly down at it. “We better find somethin’ quick.” 

- ̗̀  break time   ̖́-

[hpjskip-blog]

hpjsj:

This is what occurs in the expanse of a heartbeat:

Eyes lock. Silence falls. Sharp inhale, tight throat. It’s happened before, her world falling apart. The quiet ending of something burning up into dust. Within another second, it’s all too much; the quick gasp of air before the scream. Now it’s blood pounding and her mind whirling and the blinding urge to turn and never look back. Maybe that’s why she’s always been a good runner — she’s always chosen flight. Better that than to look transgression in the eye, to ever accept her wrongs. She’s apologetic about trivialities, but never about what matters.

But it’s different, this time. He’s worth more than her leaving without a goodbye. They’re worth more than that.

“Hey. I — I just dropped by to say hi to your mom. I was in the area.” A lie that her clean appearance betrays; the bank is too far for her to imply that, but it’s better than the alternative: her standing outside the restaurant to the tune of a ticking clock, bullet in her hands waiting for the bite. Gun powder, she finds, tastes exactly like pride after she swallows it down.

He looks strange. Or maybe she’s the strange looking one, nervousness folding her into herself, leadening her spine. But it can’t be just her who’s view has changed. She sees his shoulders and thinks of her hands on them; sees his mouth and thinks of it on her own. Thinks that it should not have happened, but now that it has, there’s no use in pretending it hasn’t. They’re friends first and foremost, and anything else second.

“Skip,” his name feels heavy between her teeth — unfamiliar in the worst way, “we- we should talk. About it. Please?”

The truth, for once. No running now.

@hpjskip, june ’17

They used to check in everyday. 

Even with years spent apart, they would check in. How’s life treating you? Is everything okay? How have you been? 

It’s been radio silence for a while now. It’s burning him up inside. 

He knows it takes two to tango, but he shifts the blame onto himself. He’s always been a bit too eager to toe over that line, but he never intended for it to happen with her. It’d happened with people it shouldn’t have before — an athlete from a rival school, a close friend’s sibling, even a teacher, once. But her? He knows he’s dumber than a bag of rocks. This was on another level.

If it ruined them, he’d never forgive himself. But then again, he wasn’t entirely sure they were able to be saved. 

She's stood in front of him now, and he wonders if his discomfort is as visible as it feels. He finds that he can’t even bring himself to look at her, eyes choosing to lock onto anything else in the vicinity. Even a brief glance in her direction makes the memories come flooding back — a montage of drunken regrets. 

He shifts uncomfortably, and silently wishes he could crawl into himself. “What’s…”

Eyes bore holes into a crack on the ground. Words spill out before he can stop them. “…What’s there to talk about?” 

Nailed it. 

[hpjskip-blog]

♔ ⁇ ✺ √

send ♔ for an angry text

[ text → jun!! ] why didn’t you tell me my shirt was inside out 😤

send ⁇ for a worried text

[ text → jun!! ] just heard a thump in your room...[ text → jun!! ] are you okay?[ text → jun!! ] ...[ text → jun!! ] did you just fall off your desk chair 😂 

send ✺ for a saucy text

[ text → jun!! ] when are you coming home! im cooking with an apron on like you told me to![ text → jun!! ] ...just an apron though[ text → jun!! ] 😉 😉 😉  

send √ for a long-winded confession text

[ text → jun!! ] you know how i told you i read your last chapter and that it was really good and stuff [ text → jun!! ] i didn’t actually [ text → jun!! ] i’m sorry  😓 i’m reading it right now 😓 😓 😓  [ text → jun!! ] i’m just really bad at reading 😞[ text → jun!! ] i promise i’ll read the next one on time

[hpjskip-blog]

♠ ✆ ⁇ ✘

send ♣ for a text not meant for you

[ text → seokbeom 🐶 ] did you guys land yet? i’m almost at the airport [ text → seokbeom 🐶 ] wait[ text → seokbeom 🐶 ] that was for my sister 😂 

send ✆ for a morning text

[ text → seokbeom 🐶 ] i’m awake now!!![ text → seokbeom 🐶 ] i ... just realized you sent that an hour ago 😅 [ text → seokbeom 🐶 ] you can still come over![ text → seokbeom 🐶 ] doyou too!!! 

send ⁇ for a worried text

[ text → seokbeom 🐶 ] don’t stay up too late writing okay?[ text → seokbeom 🐶 ] good sleep will give you good ideas

send ✘ for a text that should never have been sent

[ text → seokbeom 🐶 ] really?[ text → seokbeom 🐶 ] maybe one day i will

[hpjskip-blog]

✆

send ✆ for a morning text

[ text → tae ] sorry i left without saying goodbye![ text → tae ] got the early shift today 😕[ text → tae ] still on for tonight though yeah? 😁