goodnight moon.

lee daewon. an unemployed ghost.

[hsjiseong]

『 whenever you’re ready 』

[daewonhs]

hsjiseong‌:

[ . . . ]

“picture a wave. in the ocean. you can see it, measure it, its height, the way the sunlight refracts when it passes through. and it’s there. and you can see it, you know what it is. it’s a wave.”

jiseong smiles as he drops down next to the man, staring straight ahead at the way the sky meets the water.

“and then it crashes in the shore and it’s gone. but the water is still there.” jiseong turns to hold his gaze. “the wave was just a different way for the water to be, for a little while.”

“it sounds sad, doesn’t it?” jiseong continues, drawing his knees to his chest, propping his chin on top. “but its how sand is made and sea glass. the efforts of infinite waves. doesn’t jeju remind of you that, daewon hyung?” jiseong asks in lieu of how have you been? or it’s nice to see you again. because it has been far too long since this name has rolled off his tongue. and there’s a connectedness and a sense of belonging he still can’t shake.

( and can only hope daewon feels the same. )

Daewon’s sneakers are forgotten behind him, fallen sloppily on their sides with his socks poorly balled up, shoved inside. He sits close to the fetal position, feet leaving an imprint on the damp sand, just a couple inches short of reaching the waves. It smells strongly of salt and, is that rain? The cloudy sky makes for cool weather on Jeju, not at all diminishing the beauty of a great, cerulean sea. 

He wants to think of something - seek for reflection, pick out what part of him is wrong and turn it over in his mind’s eye. His inner world is blank, thoughts replaced by the lull of the ocean. The wind pushes forth, the water curls into white peaks, it crashes onto the beach and recedes like a beast taking a breath. He digs his fingers into his thin, olive jacket, goosebumps rise where there’s holes in jeans and he sighs, slowly, slumping onto his knees. 

Then he hears him, a disembodied voice, familiar and so much so that he first thinks it’s his inner voice. But the monologue teases something in the recess of his brain. It yanks a memory out and then his thoughts are all camouflage, neon lights, amber yellow. He’s at the ocean, yet for some reason, he smells gunpowder.

Daewon moves only slightly to look at the man that joins him, sitting in the same way with that comforting, melancholic tone. He stares into his gaze, holds it, and a bell rings in his ear. Like a morning alarm - no, the morning alarm. Jiseong. His heart stumbles and he remembers, the memories disjointed but vivid. Jiseong, that boy - no, man - was like an oasis in the army which was otherwise intolerable. Suddenly, without warning, they meet again. It took all of his self-restraint to not pinch himself and confirm that he wasn’t dreaming.

“Are you saying that Jeju is like Hell?” he replies humorously, the edges of his lips curling into a smirk. He remembers watching that now, too, and the jokes they made and, man, how they used to laugh.  

Daewon curls his toes into the sand and anxiety pricks at his gut; it’s surreal, seeing Jiseong beside him on Jeju. It’s almost as if he slipped through time, arriving several years earlier, back when they talked over beer and fried chicken. “Is that really you, Jiseong?” he asks, quieter now, not looking away from his friend. The torrent of emotions continues to rise within as he stares at Jiseong and realizes, scaring himself, that in this world Jiseong is now his closest friend.

“We’re not dead or anything?” he continues and, truly concerned, he reaches forward. Daewon touches the top of his head and ruffles Jiseong’s dark hair like he would back then when he was tipsy enough to show that kind of open affection. His hair is soft, reaffirming him that yes, this is reality. 

[yoongikook]

[hsjihan]

until you fall asleep

[daewonhs]

hsjihan‌:

[ . . . ]

“My parents run a large farm here but they’re currently on vacation abroad. I got a call last night saying my help was needed for today and I was hoping someone could lend an extra hand,” he reaches for his phone, swiping his thumb across the screen to unlock his phone. “All we have to do is pick ripe tangerines and trim dead leaves. It’s not too difficult and the grove isn’t too far from here so you’ll be back before sunset,” he shows Daewon pictures of the tangerine farm, skipping through the occasional photos of food and street cats. He doesn’t want to scare the poor man into thinking that he was lying.

“I’ll give you a box of free, fresh produce in return,” he adds, watching them carefully as he waits for their response. “It’s a twenty minute drive. I have a small truck parked near here if you don’t mind.” 

Woo Jihan. His brow wrinkles, mulling the name over mentally. New people are difficult, their names and faces wash away quickly, often within days. This time, he’ll try not to forget. Daewon nods as Woo Jihan steps into his space and he remains still as stone, the moment familiar, as if he lived this before. Maybe it’s because it’s early, but the sudden human company is welcome. 

He leans in to see the photos, Jihan’s camera-roll a pallet of bright oranges and vibrant greens. They’re snapshots of life in its most sincere form: growth from the Earth, food made with love, and the cutest street cats he’s ever seen. As he listens, Daewon glances from the phone to Jihan’s profile, his hands, the spider creeping up a nearby weed. He looks like a reflection of his life, skin tanned and hair dark, curling over his ears and casting a shadow across his eyes, making the irises appear black. In another life, maybe he’d model. “A tangerine farm?” Daewon hums, a part of him reminiscing on his past-self, the man that’d reel away from any kind of manual labor. In the old days, he’d never subject himself to any kind of sun or dirt.

Daewon considers Jihan seriously, studying him from his hunched position on the deck. Of course - he could be a serial killer. “Ok, I’ll go with you,” he answers, sudden and blunt like he’d almost forget. There’s nothing else for him to do except for watch bird documentaries on VHS, but this doubles as the perfect opportunity to see real-life, 3D birds in action. And. Well. Jihan doesn’t seem like a bad person. “I’ve never done something like this, I can’t promise I’ll be any good” Daewon explains, believing there’s a very good chance he could ruin tangerine picking and pruning.

The farm isn’t far - there’s a knot in his stomach forming, sure, but it’s not like he hasn’t been in a car since the accident. He envisions the box of ripe produce in his room, how he’ll eat the best fruit Jeju could offer while watching the latest in public programming. Daewon puts his palms on the deck and, slowly, as if he hasn’t moved for ages, stands back up. He has to squint his eyes in the bright light, then looks down to Jihan, and shuffles nervously. “You said you had a truck here, right?” he asks, thinking about the sunhat hanging in his room. “Mind if I grab my hat?”  

[hsgijin]

riptide.

[daewonhs]

hsgijin‌:

[ . .  . ]

The male blinked a few times, the summer sun suddenly too bright for him to see. Covering his eyes and squinting a little, he tried to make out from which direction the voice had come from, or whether it wasn’t just his imagination playing tricks on him. And then, he eventually found… something. First, he’d thought it was some kind of rock that the children have decorated with a blue hat, just as if it was a real human being. Then, seconds later, he figured out that what he saw indeed was a human-being - it was Lee Daewon’s head, to be quite precise.

Laughter bubbled up in his chest as he jogged up to his acquaintance, one of his hands still up by his face, covering his eyes. “Ah, Daewon. Are you making new friends?” he asked as he crouched beside the male’s head, pointing at the crabs with his shoes and they flapped a little at the motion. “Are people not enough for you anymore, or what?”

His (potential) hero ran in his direction just as another little menace inched closer to his face and - oh, thank whatever and all gods that are out there. Daewon grinned with his teeth and the crab, now inspecting him, decided to be merciful and spare him. Things were looking up, he laughed with Gijin and as he did, realized that he was not removing the threat and actually looked like he was enjoying himself. Frowning, he tried to think of a good comeback on the spot, but all he managed to say was - 

“I’m in a hostage situation, Gijin.”

This felt like both an exaggeration and understatement. Daewon regained his smile and tried to move his legs to break free, only to feel the pressure of the tightly packed sand keeping him in place. “Uh,” he began again, trying in vain to roll away from his beach-prison, “I think the local kids stomped on the sand a bit hard?” Maybe the children didn’t want to be his friend so much as they saw that they could get their way around him? He looked to Gijin pitifully, stuck in the ground with a trio of crabs sneaking closer and closer to his face. “I might be...actually stuck? Will I die?” he muses, not yet panicking but definitely unsettled. Perhaps this whole idea was terrible from the beginning. 

Daewon opens his mouth to speak again, he squeaks, a crab pinches his nose and holds on for dear life. “Hey-” he winces, the pain isn’t awful but stings, creeping up his face. The other two crabs seem to follow the leader, approaching him despite all efforts to back his face away. “Gijin, please” he appeals to his new friend again, trying his best effort to look helplessly pathetic with large, puppy-dog eyes he somehow doubts will work at all. “I can’t go like this” Daewon continues, a smile beginning to betray his desperation. Well - it is kind of funny. He twitches his nose, blows a stream of air at the beast holding on by a single claw; it’s not effective, Gijin is his only hope now.

[daewonhs]

downpour

@hscharoen

The rain is an endless cascade, lasting for hours, overwhelming the small town with its quiet roar. It’s weather he loved since he was little, rainfall resembled song and it calmed him - on most days. For this reason, he bought obnoxious yellow rain boots and a large, clear umbrella made with cheap plastic. From underneath its cover, Daewon watched the torrent of raindrops fall and explode upon contact. It was soothing, the visual whimsical, amusing the five-year-old Daewon that existed somewhere inside. 

Normally he’d consider this perfect napping weather but he slept over ten hours last night, and also enjoyed a generous serving of cappuccino. After leaving the cafe he wandered a bit, partially uncaring but mostly unknowing. The streets were empty except for him, and her, a girl he didn’t know with honey-colored hair. She stood out, vibrant compared to the gray afternoon, and without an umbrella. Without slowing the rain poured, hammering into the concrete and rooftops. You learn to ignore pitiful sights in the city, there’s always a sad story to be told and at some point, the shock is worn away. Considering this, Daewon spun his umbrella. The droplets flew off in a spiral, and he thought: well, this isn’t Seoul.

He speaks up, approaching her with wary steps. “Excuse me?” he begins, his voice cracking from disuse. Daewon stands a few feet away from her, far enough that he wouldn’t break his bubble but close enough that he could see the scar above her lip. Who is she - what happened here? He reflects for a moment, her visage oddly familiar, like looking into a distorted funhouse mirror. For a moment he waits for a name to pop into his memory, that’d at least explain the shiver of deja vu, but instead, he stands there dumbfounded. “Are you...okay? You could get sick out here, let me give you my umbrella.”

[daewonhs]

early bird

@hsheeyeon

He woke up to four am night sweats and television static. The nightmare dissipated, fading from his mind as he changed the channel to watch twenty-four-hour advertisements. Infomercials with painful acting were the best kind, he curled at the end of the bed to watch mindlessly. It’s a fake world filled with stretched, gummy smiles, the kind he thought might be nice to exist in. His stomach rumbles and there’s no question about it, he immediately puts on his shoes.

There aren’t many options for food at this hour, except for a bakery that opens at five, maybe - was it five yet? Daewon’s out the door without knowing. It’s dark, the sun hasn’t begun to rise and barely any street lights illuminate the path. But he doesn’t mind, his stomach growls and that fuels all the motivation he needs. Even if it’s cold he can pull up the hood of his jacket, the one that’s black, and oversized so it can cover his face from the wind. Achik Bakery has what he needs: coffee, fresh bread, and - do they make donuts?

He tries to open the door, but it catches on the lock. His stomach knots, it’s first-world despair and he lifts himself on his toes to peek inside. There’s no sign of life, as far as he knew it, this is a ghost bakery. Despite all logic, he tries the door again. It won’t give, it separates him from the sweet, fluffy bread and he hates it. Daewon looks to his phone, it’s a few minutes from opening and he has to wonder if he can get in just a little early. He looks to the nearest window, peers inside, and taps on the glass.

[koreantunes]

Visit Original Link

시연 (SIYEON) (Dreamcatcher) - Paradise

[hsjihan]

until you fall asleep

[daewonhs]

hsjihan‌:

bgm

[ . . . ]

“Hello,” he says quietly, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of the sound of sea-birds and the distant noises of the rest of the city waking. “You’re not busy today, are you?”

He loves the short moment that comes post-rain. Droplets still cling to the grass, the vines, and the morning air feels heavy with fresh petrichor. Daewon breathes in slowly, meditative, bracing the early chill with a knitted sweater and his legs crossed like a pretzel on Homestay’s porch. A cat is his only company. It curled up in the center of his lap, and he never was a cat person before, but it’s a welcome change. She keeps him grounded as he focuses on muting that voice in the back of his head, humming like ongoing white noise. He has to stay in his quiet place: one, two - exhale.

He never experienced mornings like these back in Seoul. Always, the sun shone a blight on his life, waking to headaches and sickness of the stomach. Daewon tries not to reminisce or compare. He threads his fingers through cat hair and feels the tiny beast purr, eyes closed. It puts him at ease as he watches the horizon, how the sunrise spills a watercolor across the sky and frames the silhouette emerging from it. Like a sprite, the young man glows against the backlight.

Daewon blinks at the stranger’s question. His voice is soft, deep, it draws the cat out from its nap and him, from that blank space. She gives the boy the same curious gaze that he does, but it doesn’t take long for him to answer.

“Not at all. Why?” he asks simply, unmoving from his spot. Peace distributed, the cat yawns in his face and hops off his lap, approaching the new human like he’s the most interesting creature in the world. Who is he - they don’t know each other, do they? Daewon tilts his head and remembers glimpses of him; his profile at breakfast, dirty shoes, a shadow at the end of a hallway. But memory is a fickle thing, and he can’t trust himself anymore.

“We haven’t met before, have we?” Daewon wonders aloud, considering the dark-haired man. His strong features stand out as if each piece was sculpted individually, only later put together on a pallet. He’s pretty, like a city boy, but his aura has none of the haughtiness Daewon was used to. “I’m Lee Daewon” he adds, quietly, almost forgetting himself.

[daewonhs]

riptide.

@hsgijin 

Today, the sun burned alone in a bright sky. Salt stung his nose and the light, which rippled off the peaks of waves, reflected into his eyes. Good weather today, he had thought, the beach would be nice right now.

Daewon laid there, covered up to his neck in sand, a light blue sunhat ontop his head. Neighborhood kids are mostly harmless, so he doesn’t mind them, and being buried alive didn’t seem like a bad idea at the time. He squinted and, surely, he could wiggle himself out of this. But the lethargy of his body convinced him, no, he might as well stay. 

Until a line of small, dull-colored crabs marched his way. “Hello?” he greeted them, bemused as their small legs moved in tandem. They got closer, the little monsters hastening their pace as if they were soldiers on the attack. Only when one grabbed onto the rim of his sunhat did Daewon realize that, oh, there might be a problem. 

He tried to shake the crab off. Vigorously, he shook his head to no success. The other crabs scuttled closer and he, in a panic, looked down the beach to the closest person he could see. When he squinted, Daewon began to recognize the figure and called out to him in an attempt to escape death by crab - without moving, that is.

“Son Gijin!” he yelled dryly, hoping to get his acquaintance's attention. “Over here!”

[daewonhs]

hello everyone, i’m noah and its good to be here! my boy daewon here is a hoemstay guest, probably for around...2 weeks now? he sleeps a lot and does a whole lot of nothing because he can afford to. also identiy crisis? his profile is here and his bio is here. no plot page yet, but if your muse ever lived in seoul or nyc we can work on a background maybe? also, you can like this post to make me appear in your messages. nice meeting you all!

[honeykoos]

Oh!!!!!!! My god!!!!!!!!

[namgination]

winter package cutie ♥