wsgeon

[wsgeon]

19 + 26 !!

what is your perfect idea of success?

“personally, i’ve always believed that success is more of a feeling than a concrete idea—as long as you’re happy with what you’re doing and where you’re at, then who can really tell you that you aren’t succeeding?”

it’s a simple philosophy spoken by a man who doesn’t know how ‘simplicity’ works. as he gives his answer, it crosses his mind that he’s not sure if he’s happy with where he’s at or what meta’s doing. it had been an easier question a few years ago, before they’d signed to wishbone records and before they’d sign to their prior label, when everything that they did was a leap of faith with no net to fall into. things are better now, but different. they’re still a rock band, but sometimes he wonders if the spirit of it all has been lost. sometimes he’s sure that it has.

“it’s just about your attitude, you know. this applies to all things, but i’ll describe it using music: you can release a best-selling hit, but if your heart’s not in it, you can still feel like a failure while you can play a show to a crowd of twelve people but if all twelve of those people know the words, you’ll still feel like you’ve done something great, right?”

what's your favorite way to spend the day off?

“there’s this restaurant that i’ve been frequenting lately. if i’ve got a day off, i will be there. my current goal is to try everything on the menu.” sure—that’s his goal, maybe. if not, then at least a half-assed excuse for hanging around so often. he tries to come up with something else, but he remains empty-handed. once upon a time, he’d had hobbies. once upon a time, he’d been spontaneous enough to find something to do even on short notice. but lately, routine has been a source of comfort while he’s still trying to fully step back into the world. it’s boring, but: “otherwise, i like to sleep or take long drives with my friends. hyojin, usually.”

[wsgeon]

been busy but i have four days off in a row starting tomorrow so i’ll be around to finally get the self-paras/starters/replies i’m racking up for both hyeon & geonwoo posted or queued soon ☠️

[wsgeon]

wshyojin:

( ... )

it would be a sign to see, but when he thinks about it, its not rare for all of them to constantly steal stuff from one another. the amount of picks he had gotten from the others and every now and again new strings for his own guitar. "i’ll just buy you a pair instead.”

“i’d be stealing them for you, asshole.”

just like that, he’s pulled from his daze. makes him wonder why he’d avoided hyojin in the first place when—just like always—he’s the first person to drag geonwoo back down to earth. petty resistance fails in the end and he's grinning in spite of himself. 

“i wouldn’t come crying to you, because i’d blame it on you in the first place. hyojin told me to! he has them!” mischief thickens his tone, brightens his face while he’s busy rolling the tension out of his shoulders. it feels like he’s been here before: seven years ago, sharing laughter in his dad’s car an hour after hurting his feelings. he doubts hyojin’s feelings had been hurt by something as simple as being ignored (if that were the case, surely he’d never have a happy moment in his life, living with the meta members), but it still pushes him to be kinder. he saves his sharp language for later.

“but if you’re in the mood to spend money on me today, i won’t tell you no. it’s always more fun to use somebody else’s money,” he quips. a beat passes, and he spends it rolling the passenger side window the rest of the way down and checking the time on his phone. not too early, not too late — not that he’s got anywhere else to be, anyway. “what about all three? music store, game store, mcdonald’s after. if you’ve got any errands to run, we should do that while we’re out, too.”

his smooth exhale carries an admission: “i don’t really want to go home right now.”

[wsgeon]

[wsgeon]

wsheejin:

( ... )

“welcome,” she greets. “i’m sure you know by now, but please feel free to sit anywhere and just call for me when you’re ready to order!”

it’s a slow infiltration, passing conversations with ajummas used as building blocks for geon’s reputation: even if it’s only in this restaurant, he wants to be seen as something other than the shameless rockstar & wasted potential. it’s not that he’s embarrassed of who he is—because really, he isn’t—but he still finds himself covering every single one of his tattoos & wearing his brightest smile when he’s in the area, just to make sure that there’s not a damn thing that anyone can say against him. 

he usually doesn’t care this much. not enough to switch his fashionably ripped slipknot t-shirts out for cashmere sweaters and definitely not enough to even attempt to tame his hair (”if you want to win any girl over, you need to look like you have some self-respect”, one old lady had told him), but it goes without saying that competition for kang heejin’s attention is fierce.

he’s lucky enough that she looks at him at all when he steps in. sure, it’s luck — and he’s ‘give him an inch and he’ll take a mile’ ryu geon, so he pushes the boundaries of it.

‘sure, thank you’, he might say if he were somebody else, then give a modest bow of his head as he steals away into some corner. but instead, he grins, eyeing the table that she’d just stood up from. “that’s actually my favorite table,” he suggests, getting straight to the point with a light-hearted lie. he takes a couple steps towards her. 

“if i can really sit anywhere, then is it okay if i sit here?” and just so his intentions are perfectly clear, he adds, “with you. i don’t really like sitting alone, anyway.”

[wsgeon]

give me your garbage i will burn it i promise you i won’t crucify it i won’t even keep it in memory i would accept it without lashing out i’d accept it i promise you

Blanca Varela, from The Blinding Star (tr. Sara Daniele Rivera & Lisa Allen Ortiz)

[wsgeon]

therealmeta 🤔

[wsgeon]

wshyojin:

( ... )

“we can go see if there are any new nice guitars or something at the music store. last time i went, they had a few new one you might like.” he suggests, glancing over to his side to look at geonwoo, brows raised. “i might even buy a new pair of drum sticks, i broke my last pair the other week, too scared to steal some from our lovely drummer.”

ever the optimist, not even geonwoo is safe from the strong waves of melancholy that autumn brings. shorter days make way for longer nights and while he’s always been a night owl, he thinks that this is a terrible time for change—in the space between september and december, he could use a little extra light. 

“i didn’t realize it was you,” he tries, feeble excuse lacking the necessary punch to land. it’s obviously not true, both to himself and hyojin. he’s not sure whether the effort to protect the leader’s feelings is honorable or shameful. “i’m not wearing my contacts, and i took you for that weird fan we met a while back. i’m sure you remember the one.” for an instant, his barren expression cracks and amusement breaks through. a smile, then a short laugh. (if the lie itself wasn’t shameful, then the far-fetched comparison must be.)

he straightens up in the passenger seat, fixing his posture before an ache can find its way to his spine, though his elbow remains perched in the crevice between the glass of the window and the door itself. one sharp turn would be enough to disturb its balance, but for now it’s comfortable. neutrality moves in to his expression again. “not really, but if you don’t want to burn gas, the music store’s fine.” only because of hyojin needing drumstricks, though—and maybe half because of the comfort found in being thought of. it’s something simple, something to be expected from a bandmate, but the phrase ‘they had a few new ones you might like’ means more to geonwoo in the moment than he thinks hyojin realizes. 

he smiles again, more genuine this time. “it would be good to have a few pairs of your own, but i’ll steal some from her later. i’m not scared.”

[wsgeon]

10 & 25!

what are your top 5 favorite artists?

“only five? that’s not nearly enough,” he complains, playful glare pulling his eyebrows in and lips down before he breaks into a smile. “i’ll give it a try, though. number one will forever be kickstart, my dad’s band. if it weren’t for them, i probably never would have started or joined any bands at all, let alone gotten this far—in a sense, i have them to thank for everything. after that, there’s not much of a ranking system. my taste changes often, so i’ll say... slipknot for sure, thornapple, gummy, and... nirvana? but that’s leaving out too many amazing artists, like madonna and shin haechul...”

do you have any rituals you do before a next big project?

“sure i do. some of them are steadfast, some of them change with the eras, but doesn’t everybody have something that they do before starting a new project?” perhaps he’s too superstitious in the way that he always has to have a clean pair of socks on (fresh out of the dryer, mind you) before he’ll play a show, or how he keeps his lucky coin in his left back pocket during the entire process of writing new songs. small things mean the most to him. too much, old management had told him. you should get over yourself. but times change, and the old company had fallen short of making him feel embarrassed of his routines, so he grins while he finishes answering the question. “the main one is playing frisbee before a show. my dad and i used to toss one around before kickstart played. every single time. something about how it helped warm up his hands, and i guess i’ve held onto it ever since.”

[wsgeon]

@wsahreum​ said: “i wish i could accept the compliment.”

it’s the first thing that geon hears when the door of his studio creaks open and his identification of the voice is instantaneous—it’s the nervous tremor that gives it away, he figures. not that he’d ever say as much to the girl it belongs to.

an unusual mix of curiosity & vigilance pushes him through the hallway until he finds ahreum and her uncle outside a practice room, almost like he’d pulled her from a session. maybe he had. either way, she looks uncomfortable and while geon doubts that the ceo’s intentions are bad, meaning well doesn’t erase anxiety. so he eases closer, shoulders squared in a subconscious display of defense while he formulates an excuse for interrupting their conversation. 

it wouldn’t be believable to say that he’s sorry for falling behind when she looks to be fresh from practice. wouldn’t be believable to say that he’d called in an order for lunch, either, when the music still playing from the room suggests there are other trainees in the room. god forbid he seems to be showing signs of favoritism—(then again, would dongwoo even mind?)

“ahreum!” he half-shouts, like he’s been trying to get her attention all throughout the hallways and hasn’t simply crept up on the two. he grins, raising one hand in a half-wave. “your phone,” he starts, pausing to glance towards her hands. no phone. great. “i think i fixed it, but i need your password to unlock it & make sure; could you come with me for a second?”

he turns towards the ceo briefly to give an ‘apologetic’ bow of his head. “my bad for interrupting, but i’m sure we’re all busy, so...” again, his hands raise and he waves them around vaguely. gesturing towards some non-existent point. “you know.”

[wsgeon]

These questions can be answered from your perspective as a mun or from the perspective of the character! As the main goal for the prompt is for headcanons and character development, you’re free to answer however many you’d like. The questions include options for artists as well as staff, as to make sure everyone can have something to answer! When you reblog, users will send in numbers corresponding to those question!

Each answered question will be worth 1 TOKEN EACH, which you’ll be able to claim a total of 5 times, totaling out to 5 TOKENS TOTAL! When you’re done, please submit the links to these 5 asks to the points blog. Make sure to tag all answers as WS:HCMEME. For these to count for activity, the word count for each answer must exceed 100 words. Like an open event, this meme will not have a time limit and can be used by future applicants.

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[wsgeon]

𝗶 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗶'𝗺 𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗸𝘆.

summary: september ‘21—geon visits the mausoleum to honor the six-year mark of his dad’s passing. this time, he doesn’t cry. warnings: direct mentions of death & grieving.

1,017 words.

sometimes geon still thinks he might wake up one day and find his dad waiting on him in the kitchen of their family home, cooking eggs & bacon—always the same meal, always just as bland. but it’ll be so packed full of love that it’ll surely taste like a michelin-starred meal. 

it’s the naivety stored within his heart. still just a kid, emotionally stunted by the lack of guidance in recent years: he can talk things out with his therapist, but it always falls short in the parental-nurturance department. sometimes delusion is the best way (the only way) to cope.

the mausoleum has a way of putting things into perspective. muddy footprints on the once-white floors, mocking the mourners. they ought to keep a place like this clean, he thinks, but it always, always seems to rain on september 15th. the earth caves in just outside the front doors, crevice of mud and trampled grass so graciously welcoming visitors—it’s no match to the better, more expensive resting places set on concrete & decorated with gleaming marble.

guilt creeps in. he kicks it back out, bouquet of purple and white peonies clutched in his hands.

another time, another place. a day like this shouldn’t be spent feeling sorry for himself. so he approaches (after making damn sure that his shoes are free of mud: it can’t change the presence of the tracks already left, but it makes his heart feel slightly lighter), steps stopping directly in front of the box in the wall dedicated to ryu hangyeom. empty, as always—there are flowers or cards seen through the transparent screens of the boxes to either side, both above and below, but never in his unless geonwoo is the one to leave them.

(another delusion thought: sometimes he imagines finding a gift left by his mother, something he could use to find her, maybe. he wonders if she even knows that the father of her child is dead, that her son’s been left alone. if she’d care.)

“sorry that i’m late, dad,” he murmurs, pulling the door open. he places the bouquet inside and watches how the flowers force inwards to accommodate the lack of space. it always makes him sad, how a man with a presence so large could have his existence diminished to such a tiny square. he presses his hands against the steel walls, pushing. like he thinks he’ll be able to make more room. if he could, maybe he’d even crawl inside and send himself over, too.

(there’s a thought: where do the gifts go? the cards, the bouquets, the knick-knacks, the cigarettes, the bags of snacks. he wonders if maintenance stores them away somewhere sacred or if they throw them out. if they smoke the cigarettes that he buys out of habit.)

“i had some work to do today.” a lie. meta’s been granted the month off, and he hasn’t been doing much of anything aside from playing the same track in his studio & pretending that he might do some work on it, eating all three meals at the same damn restaurant and running in circles. he’s let his life become stale.

“you know that’s a lie, don’t you?... i miss hearing you call me out on my bullshit. i used to get so mad, didn’t i?” he forces a laugh that turns into a suppressed cough. his mouth’s dry. probably from the clenched jaw, tongue pressed straight up against the roof of his mouth for hours now. a day spent trying not to cry. “but do you know that i’d do anything to hear you going off on me again? i know you still do. i bet you cuss me out every single day, so could you do it a little louder next time?”

he closes the glass door. maybe it’ll filter out some of his sadness while his message is sent across. he imagines that his dad would tell him to stop moping, but he knows that reality would be the opposite. a firm hand on his shoulder, turning into an arm wrapped tight around him and pulling him in. he misses the bear-hugs more than anything.

“i wish you could see how much people love you. this morning, when i... when i woke up, i saw your name trending. your fans have been streaming your albums again. missing you almost as much as i do.” a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, bitterness resting on the tip of his tongue. the difference between him and his dad is that his first thought is why couldn’t you have loved him sooner? and his dad’s would certainly be at least they finally came around.

he wonders if he’s doing a good job at carrying on his dad’s legacy, or if he’s still too clumsy in his free-love, no-rules, all-peace approach.

“speaking of albums, we’re about to start working on a new one for meta. i always wish that i could call you and talk to you about the members, or about the fans that i’ve met. or that you were right around the corner and we could come by for a late dinner after a show. i think the members would all love you, and i think that you’d love them just as much. maybe you’d even pester them more than you pestered me. but i don’t think they’d mind.”

he sighs, then sits on the floor. nevermind the dried mud rubbing off on his clothes, nevermind the fact that he’s no longer at face-level with his dad’s allotted space. he’s tired, and he doesn’t want to leave. if his message has to go through somebody else first, then so be it. he doubts hangyeom would hold it against him.

besides, he doesn’t have much else to say. he’s at a loss for words for once in his life. cat got your tongue, geon? his dad would say. he bows his head and stays like that. if his shoulders seem to shake, then nobody’s there to notice—as far as he’s concerned, he didn’t cry at all.

he’ll call that progress.

[wsgeon]

amina cain

[wsgeon]

sunhwaws:

( ... )

“i don’t really have anywhere particular in mind– well, except for home but i don’t think either of us are making it to busan on foot.” she half-heartedly joked. she didn’t know when it happened, but she didn’t feel like seoul was a second home to her anymore. sunhwa was in her last year of university. maybe if this whole ordeal didn’t work out she could move back home and help her family out, but there was no point in planning that far ahead. she couldn’t predict how anything would turn out, so it was best to just live in the moment. 

after much internal reasoning, she was set on going. being cooped up in practice rooms until exhaustion hits was a tiring cycle and deserved a short break from it. it also didn’t hurt to have company that has proven to be harmless. “a convenience store sounds good. i don’t think i’ve been to one in a while surprisingly.” she stood up from her chair, looking at geon with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. sunhwa was grateful towards geon for the opportunity to do something different, but it was still difficult to smile when she felt unsatisfied with the way her life is. “thank you.”

“is that a challenge?” he quipped, light-hearted & grinning—busan was out of the question (and he was certain that offering to drive her there would be a little too much coming from an almost-stranger), but he still found it fun to imagine. “speak for yourself, because i competed in a triathlon once... but come to think of it, it seems like i came in last?” he laughed then, a muted sound intended to lighten the atmosphere. for now, he chose to ignore the emptiness of her smile: the ever-present voice in the back of his head reminded him that nobody liked a prier and it would be counterproductive when his sole intention was to get her mind off of her troubles, not coax them to the surface. “you shouldn’t thank me, i’m not doing much. but since you already did, you’re welcome.”

one foot in front of the other, slow steps guiding her into the hallways and towards the company’s foyer, he decided to make small talk. he couldn’t be sure if she’d prefer it over silence, but it couldn’t hurt to get to know her better. to let her talk. “you said that you’re from busan,” he repeated, tone raised ever-so-slightly at the end to signify a question, maybe, or at least intrigue. “then, how long has it been since you came to seoul?”

he considered tacking on the thought of how if she hadn’t told him, he never would’ve guessed that she was from elsewhere. but she already seemed sad enough, and mentioning the faded fingerprints of a hometown never went over well in the movies. instead, he chose to truly listen this time, rather than talking so much that his questions would have no choice but to go unanswered. mouth sealed, he held the front door open for her.

[wsgeon]

[wsgeon]

“I never cease to wonder at the thought that any day the course of my whole life could change with just one chance encounter.”

“that’s the beauty of life, isn’t it?”

geon lives his life surrounded by fog: even when he thinks he knows where he’s going next, he never really does. last-minute turns, missed exits, new paths forged along the way. silently, he wonders what ‘course’ sia might be referring to—what with all of his daily uncertainty, he can’t say that it’s a word he’s ever used in such context.

his hands come together and he cracks his knuckles while he thinks, pushing the thought around in his mind. he still can’t quite grasp what she means, why she’s thinking it. maybe he’s just too tired. “that’s what happened when you signed your first contract, though. the course of your life, changing before your eyes. but surely it happens more often than that, too, you know. even the smallest stone creates a ripple, or whatever that saying is.”

sighing, he adjusts his posture in his chair. spine temporarily straightens, arms raise above his head and bend until the tension in his shoulders releases and then he slouches again—further forward this time, elbows propping him up on the table separating himself from sia. “did you meet somebody new recently? why are you thinking about all that?”

[wsgeon]

for @sunhwaws, continued from here.

“does there have to be a destination?”

perhaps it’s too personal of a request—‘label-mates’ doesn’t always translate well into ‘friends’, but geon has always had a penchant for stepping over lines, anyway. besides, he knows that there’s been a lot on her mind lately. there has to be, with the combination of a competition program & the weight of her short-lived past career. he’s never been in her shoes, but he doesn’t find it particularly difficult to imagine. and even if there were a slim chance that he’s wrong—that he’s just projecting his own mindset onto other people, searching for signs that aren’t there—then it disappears when he realizes she’d been zoning out again. still, he doesn’t hold it against her.

honesty versus modesty: he’s not sure whether he should tell her how obvious it is that there’s something on her mind or if he should spare her ego (if she even has one—that’s another thing that he doesn’t know about her just yet) by playing the part of a lonely acquaintance. he exhales with a hum, thoughtful smile delaying his response a few seconds longer.

“i just asked you because i wanted to. it doesn’t hurt to get some fresh air, right?” the air is clearer than average today, he’d heard. but even if it weren’t, he had a feeling it would do her some good to have a change of scenery, even if only for a minute. “i’m not planning on going anywhere in particular, but we could walk to a convenience store if you’re hungry or thirsty—or if there’s anywhere else you want to go, i’m game.”