tang

there are many words for transformation / metamorphosis / metaphor

[loveisactivated]

[consilian-archive]

a hug for good luck >:) ☘️🌙

from here // still accepting // @yahang.

staring in wide-eyed wonder at hana has turned into the subconscious type of non-verbal communication kimoon has developed in all the time he’s spent listening to and watching the girl across from him. he’s overheard yongnam mentioning an offhand comment to his father about this    apparently, his cousin thinks he looks a little too fondly at hana.

(which: who even says that anymore?)

the same hana, who at present is hurriedly dashing through a story about something that took place in london while she was away in order to calm her own nerves, is walking circles in her own room while wildly gesturing around with her hands to highlight whatever points she’s trying to make with her words. kimoon genuinely can’t tell, even from his place on the ground while he attempts to listen to her as intently as possible.

and hana telling a story usually involves all kinds of flowery details and long sentences that are mercilessly strung together and won’t allow her room to breathe. occasionally, he’ll break into a smile when she says something particularly funny but for the most part, days like this come with a lot of nodding (”kimoon, are you still listening?”) and showcasing his patience in order to alleviate her stress(?). he supposes it has to be stress or nerves or even both. what else would turn her into a chatterbox like this?

but if there’s one thing he knows, it’s that hana loses her focus when she works herself up     which he’s seen happening every now and then, but it’s usually been over nothing. sometimes, kimoon swears he hears her swearing at one of her siblings under her breath.

for what’s it worth, him simply glancing at her while having to fight off a grin that’s threatening to settle on his features is probably not the most helpful thing he could be doing right now, but he really does mean well. and just like hana has trouble keeping her muscles from tensing in her jaw when she notices his amusement, kimoon can’t manage to do anything but tilt his head to the side and look at her expectantly.

she huffs. “you’re doing it again.”

“doing what?”

“that. you’re giving me that look again.”

there goes his attempt at sticking to his serious side: a smile tugs at his lips when he notices her apparent frustration and the glare she shoots his way. the boy, on the other hand, discreetly avoids unearthing whatever that swallowing feeling in the pit of his stomach is supposed to mean. “what? you don’t like the way i look at you?”

(he genuinely needs a few more hours until he thinks of how that could have gone wrong.)

but all hana does is wrinkle her nose in a way that’s so distinctively her, it has him blinking confusedly a handful of times before things settle into the usual, well-known silence. he’s never found that to be particularly uncomfortable but this time around, it feels heavy with something unspoken which tugs at him in a way he can’t quite place.

(that is to say, it’s something new. not bad, just new.)

kimoon watches hana crossing and uncrossing her arms before her arms fall to her side defeatedly and she slumps down on a nearby chair. his smile disappears almost as quickly before he’s settling down next to her in two long strides, bumping shoulders with her encouragingly in a weak attempt at getting her to focus on him    and not her thoughts.

“you know you’re working yourself up over nothing, don’t you?”

“but what if i don’t get it?”

“so?” kimoon debates his next move for only the split of a second before he throws caution to the wind and reaches out to engulf hana in a comforting hug. and despite the relentless onslaught of thoughts in the back of his mind (the most prominent one of which is likely how ridiculous he must look, hugging a girl who’s practically half his size), she doesn’t balk at it.

okay, so maybe she stiffens a little at first. but that’s alright, he’s not sure how he would have reacted had the roles been reversed so he can take that. and he can take that odd fluttering in his chest when she mumbles accusingly how she’s sinking into his frame but he’s quick to notice her chin nestling on his shoulder appreciatively.

”kimoon, can’t you shrink a little?”

“i’m trying to cheer you up and wish you good luck and that’s all you can think about?”

(she mutters something later that same day when she’s feeling a little better: about how he shouldn’t just hug people out of the blue like that. and the only response he can muster up is his eyes lingering on her for a little longer until she smiles and he finds himself returning it with all the ease in the world.)

[yahang-archived]

apples to oranges

Store traffic subsides into something more manageable-- only a handful of ahjummas remain, attacking the fruit section with reckless abandon.  A bewildered father brushes past them, one toddler kicking gleefully in his arms, another trailing dutifully after him (But Daddy, what about the gummies?...) Currently in Hana’s cart: absolutely nothing.  She hasn’t even checked the first thing off her list- courtesy of the acclaimed Chef Hajoon, who balked at the thought of surviving off of instant ramen and takeout for more than a day.  

“Just checking, but you have gone grocery shopping before, haven’t you?...”

“Shut up, Kimoon.”  Seriously, why is it so hard to find garlic?  Huffing, she pushes the cart ahead and attempts to leave him in the dust.  The attempt is short-lived as he reappears with a bag in hand.  Doing her best not to look disgruntled, she plucks said bag from his hands and tosses it into the cart.  Onto the next aisle.

“You didn’t have to come.” He glances over, confusion settling over his features. “Well, you asked me to-” Hana side-eyes him and reaches for the nearest tub of kimchi.  Adds another hmph for good measure.  The sigh is nearly inaudible, but it gives her pause to peek at him again as they continue on.  “Sorry.  Thanks for coming.  I would’ve been tearing my hair out without you.” He smiles.  

The trip straggles on for hours.  By the time they’ve finished, she’s positively starving.  As she retrieves the bags from the cart, a particular package catches her eye.  

“Wanna come over for ramen?”

(The innuendo flies way over her head and throws him off instead.  She pushes the remaining bags into his arms and pretends not to notice.)

@consilian​

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

Asklepiades, tr. by Willis Barnstone, from Greek Lyric Poetry; “Didyme,”

[infinitumes]

@yahang

[yahang-archived]

miss fortune

@consilian, for hamoon ofc

By sundown, the streets are abuzz. Lanterns sway gaily in the darkened sky, and the sound of laughter chimes, a welcome prelude to the celebrations that will carry on deep into the night.  Such times are hard to come by, so it’s no surprise that the townspeople have gathered on a day like this.  But while most seem to be in high spirits, a single, sulky face lingers in the background.

“I’ll be a laughingstock.  I’m not moving, I won’t--” Her sister casts her a single, sidelong glance that conveys an inkling of impatience.  No amount of persuasion has proven successful, despite her gentle pleas and non-too-gentle tugs at her arm.  Hana glowers at the hole on her left sleeve-- an eyesore on otherwise beautiful (new) silk brocade.   Her sister sighs.  “I thought you wanted to find a handsome suitor for yourself.  Isn’t that what you told me this morning, dear sister?”

“Not a chance.  Not when they see what I’ve done to my jeogori.  Just go on without me- I’ll wait for you here.”  It’s the best offer she’ll give, and her sister takes this as a sign to shake her head, squeeze her hand and flit away.  She watches her take quick steps towards a group of older girls waiting under the nearby tree.  At least one of them will have fun-- she’ll just have to entertain herself until then.  For now, she contents herself with the sights and smells, staring longingly at the young women and men who seem so carefree and unaware of her misfortune.  

As the sky begins to darken, her ears perk at the sound of drums in the near distance-- despite her initial reservations, she allows her feet to take her closer.  Thoughtlessly, she weaves between the crowd and hastens towards a less crowded corner of a building.  It’s not long before she stumbles, colliding into the solid weight of someone’s back.  

“Oh-” Oh.  They stare at one another, first in confusion, then in recognition.  Her cheeks begin to burn.  He blinks rapidly, like a startled doe in the woods.  “Ah.”  You, goes the unspoken exchange.  It seems like yesterday since she’d seen him-- the young scholar her father often spoke fondly of, but had rarely given a name to.  Until recently, that is.  Since then, they haven’t stopped bumping into one another.  As if remembering their painful encounter from several days before, he automatically palms at his temple.  

“The music-” she starts after a long, stilted pause.  Coughs.  Finding a handsome suitor, my foot.  She can hardly string a sentence along to make sense of her words.  Somehow, he seems to understand, eyes lighting up inexplicably.  “Your father-- he said you liked.  Music, I mean.  He said you liked to dance.”  Just how much does he know?  Squashing any lingering qualms, she offers her best jest at confidence and stares him dead in the eye.  She might as well make the most out of unexpected company.  

“Would you like to dance, then?”

[consilian-archive]

...LOVE YOU?

in response to this. @yahang

“why would anyone willingly choose peter?” "sometimes, you just have to follow your heart.”

kimoon mulls over this for a good few seconds before asking again, as if to reiterate his previous point. "but isn’t john ambrose the definition of what a girl wants? why else would lara jean question her relationship with peter if not for him?”

hana rolls her eyes and kimoon knows that’s his cue to silence another onslaught of words. still, he can’t help but notice with the hint of a grin she doesn’t seem all that displeased    merely a little irritated at the sudden liking he’s taken to questioning all the movies and shows she’s making him watch with her. it’s not like he’s complaining.

it might even help with solving the mysterious puzzle that makes up the entirety of na hana.

“kimoon.” hana looks stern when his eyes meet hers and he involuntarily gulps at that.

“yeah?”

“if a girl knows, she knows. and that’s all you have to know.”

[vegaschapters]

[yahang-archived]

TORRENTIAL

He's reminded that this isn't his fight alone.  Pity is the default reaction, followed by reservation.  Then disdain.  Then talk.  Shouldn’t he feel ashamed of himself?  Poor boy.  Could have gotten himself married, but somehow ended up with someone like him.  News circulates, and a year later, he’s still avoided like the plague.  Superstition does that to people- makes them alienate others out of fear that a similar fate will fall upon them, too.  Being alone is easy, but it’s the stares he hates the most.  

Grief isn’t meant to last longer than the first three months, so he’s told.  You’re only meant to mourn briefly, and then you’re expected to go on with your life as if it’s nothing more than an act.  A fucking show, for all intents and purposes.  

It makes him sick to his stomach.  

Sometimes, he dreams of him.  They’re mostly happy dreams, the kind where he tells him he loves him, where he’s laughing, singing exceptionally off-tune, doing his funny dance in the hallway.  

Each day, he wills himself to sleep, praying that he’ll be there again.  

Each day, he wakes up to an empty bed and wishes desperately for a different life. 

One where he’d be alive.

[yahang-archived]

P.S. I STILL...

@consilian​

Second chances are hard to come by.  Especially if the first is poorly received.  Especially if it’s at the mercy of a boy.  And yet here they are, on the floor of her devastatingly microscopic apartment, her laptop balanced lopsidedly on their knees.  At least she’s armed herself with a bag of chips in case he decides to ruin the movie again.  (If he spoils another kiss scene, he’s getting the entirety of its contents shoved down the front of his shirt.)

“Wait, is this another r--” She fixes him with a cucumber-cool stare and threateningly shakes said chip bag.  “Not. Another. Word.”  Is that a smile?  Unfair.  Hana puts on a show of ignoring him and reaches over to aggressively thumb the volume higher.  Onscreen, Lara Jean Covey is busy swooning over her hunky beau.  

(Can’t relate.  Also, there’s no armrest separating them.  The realization dawns, and now she’s hyper-aware of his shoulder pressed against hers.

Uhhhh, what?

Now she’s definitely not paying attention.  Not to what’s supposed to be occupying her thoughts at present, anyways. 

It’s going to be a long night.

[consilian-archive]

🍿hana n moon 8)

from here // still accepting // @yahang​!

see. all this could have been avoided: hana’s indignation at the way the movie ended, his hair smelling of sweets and the confusion he feels since he didn’t pay attention for majority of the screen time. in truth, had he been able to plan all this beforehand     he would have gone for a special evening, something straight out of a classic romantic comedy.

unfortunately, kimoon all but possesses the emotional depth of a tangerine and it shows in the way the popcorn is still sticking in his hair when he moves to pull it out while the credits play. next to him, hana has her arms crossed in front of her chest. ‘that was horrible.’

he can’t quite tell if she’s sulking but what he sees from the corner of his eyes makes her look cute regardless. not that he’s looking, he’s still busy removing the last proof of her annoyance with him from his hair after the boy thought it was a good idea for him to start talking in the middle of the movie. hana, in her eagerness to understand the plot, had simply decided to throw the closest thing at him in an effort to shut him up.

and kimoon’ll give her that: at least the method had been effective in silencing him.

“you picked that movie, now suffer the consequences with me.”

there’s a wide grin splitting his lips apart when he tosses the rest of the sweets back to the person who previously thought she could get away with assaulting him in his own car. her demeanour shifts, most likely in disgust at his antics but she only sticks her tongue out at him and looks out of the window.

he catches her fighting off a smile and decides against saying something.

‘you deserved that for talking half of the movie.’

“i know i did.”

(he doesn’t mention he didn’t come here for the sake of a plot but that’s quite okay. hana’s back from overseas and he’s happy to have her here and to get to be close to her, even if it means suffering through a movie he never wanted to see and going back home with popcorn he never wanted to eat.)

[yahang-archived]

“I’m back, like I promised.” @ hana ♡♡♡

from here

If Hana’s life was an American sitcom, it’d be pure comedic gold.  On last season of Hana Gets into All Sorts of Unimaginable Situations…  Granted, the past few months have been relatively normal in comparison. Studying abroad was both exciting and exhausting, the whole songwriting side-gig has been sailing along, and the Fake Dates scheme has been retired in light of an unexpected development. (The development being Gayoung’s sudden infatuation with a senior boy who had been all too happy to return her interest.  They’re disgustingly sweet together, by the way.)  

“You’re bored.”  Hayeon has this all-knowing expression on her face as she gingerly picks at the slice of cake.  Apparently diets don’t count on weekends.  Hana, on the other hand, attacks it with an enthusiastic sort of vigor.  Can’t give anything away if your mouth’s stuffed to the brim with sponge.  Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop her ever-so-smug big sister from pushing forward with her investigation.

“No romantic flings while you were in London?  I don’t believe it.  The last time I toured there, there were cute boys everywhere.”  The response is a look of disgust, which roughly translates to oh, please.  Not that Hayeon seems to buy it.  Instead, a slow but deliberately mischievous look crosses her face.  

Oh no.

“Is it because of that boy?  Built like a telephone pole, looks like he’d be the main protagonist’s first love in a teenage rom-com–” That prompts Hana to go into a coughing fit, timed perfectly to the bells jingling merrily by the front door as a familiar face emerges.  

“Well, speak of the devil!”

“Shutupshutupshutup–” He’s spotted her, reaching them easily in a few strides.  Hayeon continues to grin, and Hana resists the urge to crawl under the table before she’s humiliated any further.  

“I’m back, like I promised.” The she-devil glances over, gleefully mouthing the words back at her before she reaches for her bag.  “Would you look at the time!  I’ve got to meet Hajoon to practice our duet.  I’ll see you at home.”  She’s gone before either of them have time to react, and Hana suddenly finds herself thrown back into her sitcom.  She can practically hear the studio audience laughing on cue.  Kimoon waves amiably and slides into the abandoned seat.

“Missed me?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”  

(Her expression reads clear as day.)

[justmorerpmemes]

Rattled and Relief Starters

“You’re shaking, I can see it. It’s okay.”

“Get away get away… get away…”

“You’re not okay, please, let me help.”

“Stop it, no. Enough. STOP!”

“It’s okay, I’m here. You’re okay.”

“I just-I’m sorry I… I didn’t mean to react that way.”

“Did I… please tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

“We’re going somewhere safe.”

“No, no no no it’s all going wrong, we’re running out of time!”

“We’re gonna get through this, okay? Trust me?”

“It never really stopped… the shaking is always there…”

“Please don’t lie to me… tell me what’s wrong.”

“How about we just go somewhere quiet okay?”

“I know I’m not good at this but… I’m here.”

“You’re making it worse!”

“Why did you have to bring it up?”

“Hold onto me, you’ll be okay.”

“I want it to stop. It’s not stopping.”

“Are you doing better?”

“Don’t make me talk about it. Please don’t.”

“It’s alright… I get it, I do.”

“I’m back, like I promised.”

“Leave me alone-just leave me alone.”

“I’m coming closer, and I’m going to put my hand on your shoulder, alright?”

“You are safe. You are going to be safe.”

[yahang-archived]

TRANSITION

The big three-oh comes with less fanfare and waterworks than she’d anticipated. 

Of course, it’d be uncharacteristic of her to not have a good cry after a generous helping of soju.  There’s always something to bemoan-- overdue rent, ridiculously-priced avacados, the patriarchy.

You know.  The usual.

“To be honest, I’m glad that it happened the way it did.” Jiho fixes her with a deadpan stare and lets her clink her glass clumsily against his, half of it sloshing onto what had once been a full plate of sundae.  A lifetime of friendship is enough for him to know to stay silent, scratching idly at his unshaven chin as he waits.  Long enough for Sunny to press closer until the edge of the table digs into her stomach and for Jiho to reel back in exaggerated disgust. “You reek, Sun.”

“So do you!- You’re ruining a moment here, by the way.”

“A what?”

“Nevermind.”  Huffily averting her gaze, she catches the attention of the owner instead, mouthing two more- please.  At the old woman’s curt nod, she fusses with her chopsticks instead and swipes the last bite.  Acknowledging the shoe bumping against hers would be considered defeat, but at the third insistent nudge she caves. 

“Don’t you have your first day of work tomorrow?  At this rate you’re going to show up hungover.”

“I’ll be fine, Jiji.” The nickname prompts a snort. “Your funeral.  Happy birthday, Yunseon.”

“Happy birthday to me.”

[jawnkeets]

percy bysshe shelley, from one word is too often profaned

[shinees-deactivated20190406]

[irieus-deactivated20191215]

YOU & I: SLEEPLESS.

[yahang-archived]

@irieus

[...]

“She looks like you when you’re mad.” He gets intercepted by a long yawn, an unpleasant reminder of the working day that’s coming in a matter of hours. Hanbin winces as his eyes sting from the sudden dryness, and suddenly, Jinjoo’s idea of calling in sick is starting to sound heavenly.

“Let’s.. all just stay home later and have enjoy some quality family time by sleeping. Juju loves to sleep too, doesn’t she-”

She remembers when thirty seemed like some kind of pipe dream.  Strictly hypothetical, a matter of if, not when.  Naive, sure, but tried-and-true to the teenage narrative.  

And she had been naive.

In all honesty, Jinjoo hadn’t envisioned herself as a mother.  Hanbin sure as hell hadn’t factored a baby into the equation, either, but here they were.  As much as she wants to pretend they have everything under control, the cold, hard facts prove otherwise.  They can read all the books they want-- what it really comes down to, though, is trial and error.  

(Lots...and lots of trial.  But mostly error.)

The soft thunk of porcelain against wood has her peeling her gaze away from Juju’s face, relief overridden by gratitude.  “Can you grab her for a sec?  I don’t wanna risk spilling hot water all over her.”  After gracefully scooching her way closer to his side of the bed, she presses a rapid-fire kiss to his cheek (as much as he loves her, she has to admit she’s got a serious case of morning breath).  It’s a precursor to the quick turnover before he can protest, the baby now in his arms as she leans over to grab the mug instead.  

“Is that why you never take me seriously when I am?”  Heeding the steady wisps of steam, she blows several times before taking a sip.  Not too watery this time.  The man’s learning.  Appreciate the little things your partner does for you- one of the many notes she’s tacked above the headboard, though it’s hanging by one flimsy adhesive corner.  Maybe she should redo that one. She fondly thumbs at the crease his pillow had left on his forehead. 

“Deal.  But only if we go out for groceries later.  Our current stock of food is seriously depressing.”

[yahang-archived]

@consilian

[...]

“you’ve made quite the entrance.” this isn’t funny but everything still feels too out of place. the way his hands hold her, steady her. how his eyes search her face for the ghost of someone he no longer remembers. his own features harden when he notices their soaked clothes   when’s it started to rain?   before he’s got her back on her feet: her arm around his shoulder, his arm around her waist.

come. we’ll go home together.

Fate-- or, gravitational pull, the predictability of a jump preceding a fall.  Magnetic attraction.  Cause and effect.  Consequential.  Predictable.  Invariable.  The name hardly matters- it’s the knowledge that every decision has a pre-determined number of possible outcomes that does.

So she knows that meeting Seungjae isn’t some arbitrary stroke of luck.  Knows that her brother had been right about her being careless, that any miscalculations from now on would cost her more than ever.  

She’s done being lenient.  The Korean facility should have been dealt with years ago.

Water to put out the fire; ashes blown to the wind.  

The rain serves as a reminder of what she’d done yesterday.

“You’re not happy to see me.”  Shoulders and elbows push, the momentum of the crowd forcing them to follow the flow of the current.  Absently, she notes the way the back of her shirt sticks to her skin, blinking away wayward drops of water to stare up at him.  Each step feels heavier than the next.  The pain tides in shallowly, clipped and intermittent.  Sheer force of will and Seungjae’s grip on her are the only two things keeping her upright.  “I just need something to stop the bleeding.” It’s almost like an afterthought, second to the acute awareness of their proximity.  

(Fate doesn’t exist, but the alternative is something much more dangerous.)