yiseuuls

[yiseuuls]

yoosunghos​:

not the first time — @yiseuuls

ville city is just the right size.

not too big where you never see the same person twice, but big enough that if you really tried, you could make yourself disappear. he presumes that is why over the past decade, the city has seemed to make a name for itself and he has seen more and more incoming traffic that outgoing. this, of course, is nowhere near a complaint, for sungho feels pride in seeing his birthplace grow. it has even become a vacation spot for people who just want a breath of fresh air from their homes and he understands; he, too, has his place for that.

he takes in the mixed crowd before him at the crosswalk, a sea of differing faces that all have their own story. all strangers until he does a double take at a particularly striking visual. he remembers her as yiseul, though he isn’t sure she remembers him in any way shape or form. their interaction had been small, brief exchanges through social media a few years back when he had been planning a trip overseas with his sister and yiseul happened to have written about the food scene there.

they didn’t stay in touch afterwards, the occasional comment on a post of hers from him and the even less occasional response on her end but nonetheless he’s stepping forward to tap her on the shoulder. a bright smile dons his lips, the friendliest look he could possibly have before he potentially embarrasses himself in front of the girl.

“hey! yiseul, right? you…might remember me, or might not?” there’s a soft laugh as he tries to think of something that could jog her memory. “remember, i asked you about that particularly hidden restaurant in japan before– like a few years ago and we’ve kind of been online acquaintances ever since?”

yiseul the forever homebody rarely left the complex building. always finding it safer to stay in with her books and dramas. only venturing out for grocery shopping, and brisk visits to the local connivence store. regardless, the journalist rarely spent time out of her apartment, though many have been pulling the shut in out of the four walls, be it for ghost hunts, parties or maybe in ville city the sun shined enough to tempt her with nice walks amongst the shade. 

plus she had found that the best places to write about were always hidden, tucked away in alleyways on street carts, or small booths in between skyscrapers, so even if her bed sings sweet songs urging her to stay enveloped in her sheets, she must venture out. 

her steps are leisured — taking a moment to step away from the lull of foot traffic to retie her black locks, wanting to avoid her constant habit of overheating. it’s that moment she hears a voice calls out her name, a tap on her shoulder causing her to pause before quickly tying one more loop around her hair. yiseul automatically takes a step back, before bowing out of habit, “ ah, uh, “ the journalist finds herself lost for words, tilting her head as she eyes the young man in front of her.

a bit embarrassed at the lack of recognition on her end, a moment paces as she shifts through the memories, the smiling face lines up with a consistent commentator,  the woman lets out a noise of recognition. “oh yes! i’m sorry, sungho right? i’m sorry, i didn’t expect to see anyone i knew in here to be honest,” she explains sheepishly, waving a hand in embarrassment. “ are you here on vacation too? i just got here myself so i’m not sure if i can suggest a restaurant right now.”

[yiseuuls]

tokycinn​:

“you know, you might be right.” the agreement comes easily, despite jonah having never really asked his mom ‘why’ — back then, he’d been immature enough to assume that she was giving him a hard time just because she could, saying no just to get under his skin. there’s a part of him that still thinks so.

still, he laughs under his breath while he joins her in watching the bug scuttle away. big for what it is, still small in comparison to the two of them, and yet it crosses his mind that if anything were to happen here tonight, the damn roach would be the last one standing. funnier still is the image his mind conjures of the creature breaking into his childhood home, his mom chasing it through the hallways with a can of raid.

“… but i could do something as simple as go outside to feed the dog and there was a pretty big chance i’d come back in with a beetle in my hand, so i don’t think it would’ve made much of a difference. unless she thought the bugs here might be possessed?” light-hearted humor fades into a question, but he doesn’t expect an answer; the bug is gone, and the topic disappears with it, replaced by vacation and alcatraz. 

as he follows her up the stairs, he considers sharing his thoughts on how cool that is, how her dad must be tons of fun, but there are two things that hold him back: first, her own focus on the topic had seemed to dwindle, and he’s not sure if there’s a deeper meaning behind it. second, he’s equally unsure if there’s a weight behind the past tense used to refer to her dad, so he just gives a hum of acknowledgement instead. it’s easier that way.

“i think there are different types of ghosts here, not just one — maybe we should stay the night? it’ll give us a better chance for you to find your chef ghost, and for me to find something really fuckin’ scary. that’s what i want.”

his steps falter and he waves his flashlight towards a mirror hanging on the wall. he points it at yiseul’s reflection beside his, already grinning like a madman. if there’s one thing that he’s consist in, it’s his immaturity. “well, damn. i guess i’ve already fulfilled my wish.”

the younger man’s statement brings a vivid image of a godzilla size cockroach, possessed by the vengeful spirits of all the murdered cockroaches throughout the years of the city. yiseul shivers from the thought, how much raid would it take to kill a bug of that size. it’s a humorous image, one that would make any child squeal in delightful terror,  and knowing her companion, she can’t help but wonder what his thought in the process would be.

“maybe all the bugs here are possessed by the spirits of all the bugs we killed before, they’ve come for revenge because they’ve had enough of humankind,” the journalist explains her thoughts, “ you humans have decimated our kind enough and now we come for vengeance!”  her voice deepens before turning into an almost screech and she holds up her fingers up to her head, trying to make antennas, “ no cans of raid will save you now!”

as they settle into the next room,  yiseul hums at the other’s words, of course, it would be a waste for a big building to have one ghost, she’s surprised every single building is overrun with ghosts if they were real. but it was much more fun to pretend they were.

“Yeah we already have two, the possessed cockroach and my chef ghost, i’m sure they have a lot of others here, it’ll take years to find them all.” though she grimaces, her nose twisting in slight disgust as she watches the dust settle on a nearby chair, “ i like my bed thank you very much, though center point is pretty whacky, i’m surprised there aren’t any ghosts there, well at least i haven’t seen one.”

it takes a moment for yiseul to follow, as her eyes turn to where jonah was pointing, her stomach begins to turn, what did he se- oh. her fear subsidies after a moment, when she’s met with the image of the two staring back at home. yiseul snorts, with her dark hair, eye bags and pale skin, she does look a bit like a ghost. she quickly shakes her hair, allowing the thick locks to fall over her face “ oooh yeah both those things ares terrifying, better not look to close, or you’ll get dragged in.”

[yiseuuls]

@xdowonx

halloween was fast approaching and of course, yiseul’s editor had called her up late last night for a last minute article. the older woman’s email was almost incomprehensible, all the journalist had got was home candy, popular with trick or treats? in between a long monolouge about her her cat had disappeared and having to find a costume for her pet bird. needless to say — the woman is currently on her third attempt of making a twix bar, her lips pursed as she stared at the currently baking shortbeard  dough, something went wrong with the last batch, and she really didn’t want to have to remake it one more time.

and as her eyes dart down to the carmel she had made hours before hand, she worried that it would be too firm. a huff escapes from her, even the smell of chocolate, sugar and carmel was starting to be sicking.

maybe she needed some fresh air, she quickly walks towards her door, hoping by opening her apartment door just a crack would have her not feel like she was going to throw up because of the smell of sweets.

as she pushes open the door, she’s surprised to see a lanky man and a child at her doorframe. animal ears ontop of both their heads — for a moment, yiseul is wondering if her eyes were playing tricks on her.

wait wasn’t that the clerk from the convenience store?

“oh..uh hello?”

[yiseuuls]

solving mysteries with velma, daphne and morticia  w/ @slidetckle and @pprika

some may think yiseul as a coward — always hesitant with her actions. always worrying about the possibilities if she chose wrong.

and tonight, as the woman tugs down on the cropped orange sweater, unlike most, her costume does not hide her true nature. yiseul does not remember how minjung and junghwa convinced her that tonight would be perfect to finally speak to the mister kwok but as she watches from behind the two older women, eyes darting from where the older man stood and her own boots, she cannot help but from.

“i think this is a bad idea,” the journalist mutters, as she continues to fidget with the sweater uncomfortable with the length. “he has to be like married right, what’s the point?”

[yiseuuls]

tokycinn​:

october ‘21, ft @yiseuuls.

“you think we should go up or back down?” the choice is hers. he’s as eager to explore the place as anybody, but underneath the enthusiasm, he’s just glad to have gotten her out of her apartment for once — might as well let her call the shots.

“i hope that we see a ghost. the media says that this place is super haunted.”

since arriving at ville city — yiseul had done her best to ignore the constant state of panic that seemed to bubble in her stomach at the unknown. perhaps the age-old advice mentors have told her of ‘write what you know’ seemed less silly as she begins writing her own book. what good is a writer who has not lived life?

or maybe yiseul forgot how much she could enjoy a night out with a friend.  and it does help that contrary to her timid appearance, yiseul enjoyed a good horror book and film now and again, her annotated copy of the amityville horror novel that sits in her bedroom back in seoul is proof of that. 

regardless of the reasons, in unscuffed boots, the journalist stands a few centimeters away from jonah. peeking over the pink buzzcut as he peers into the deprecated room — she had assumed she would fear ghosts and demons while they explored the abandoned building but at this moment, she could only fret over the consequences of being caught away from the group ( and maybe getting tetanus ). 

the journalist’s foot nudges at a box, jolting it over a moment passes before a large cockroach skitter away — its hiding spot disclosed. “ i can totally see why your mom would not want you here, i’m sure she was afraid you would have brought home a creepy crawler you found but...it does have it’s charm in ambiance,” she replies, her eyes following the bug as it lost itself in the darkness. 

“my dad was a big movie buff, he made us visit alcatraz during vacation..” she muses, as they reach the stairwell, an uneasy tingle runs through her spine,  “ same sort of thing here, less creepy crawlies but..” yiseul trails off, as she recalls the almost endless darkness that was the cells, no way she was going to go down.

“up, let’s go up,” she finally says, her smile strained as she makes her way up the stairs, “what type of ghost do you think is here? what if it’s some sort of chef,maybe i could get an interview with them?” she chatters on — a habit of hers when her nerves took over, “ wouldn’t that be a great selling point?”

the next level is much of the same, upturned furniture from decades ago, dark shadows encompassing corners, broken glass, a light blub that’s been burnt out for ages.

“what type of ghost do you want to see?” 

[yiseuuls]

xdowonx​:

— (  it’s apparent I can’t bear it and I swear it / @xdowonx

the only thing harder than pretending to recognize someone is, dowon realizes, pretending not to recognize them. sitting slouched behind the counter, head resting on his outstretched arm, sleepy eyes follow the figures moving across his phone screen, heavy eyelids threatening to close. at this time of the day, when there’s an abeyance in the usual flow of in-and-out customers and the food coma from lunch starts to hit, all he wants to do is take a nap. bask in the sunlight streaming in from large glass walls. let his mind wander along lyrics that feed into his ears, the familiar melody to cheeze’s recent album settling his thoughts. pop some gummies into his mouth and savor the fruitiness of haribo gummy bears. 

but the moment a certain someone walks into the store, bell humming a light welcome, all of his usual peace is promptly jettisoned out the door. lassitude is replaced with the unsubtle thump thump of his nervous heart and he instantly sits up straight, fingers picking at stray strands of hair. from the periphery of his line of sight, dowon can see her, passing by the aisles of junk food and instant ramen. he doesn’t even know her name, has never had the nerve to ask her for it, but he does know that aside from this hour being the drowsiest time of the day, she’s also just made it his favorite. 

unbeknownst to her, he’d taken it upon himself to have taken a liking to her—one that dowon had never made public. besides, it’s pretty much impossible when the only words he can make out whenever they run into each other at the elevator is, “what floor?”

god, he’s trying really hard not to stare, but it seems like she’s not successful finding what she wanted; what might be the problem? wait, she’s coming over. wait, of course she’d come over. dowon flushes. you’re the cashier, you idiot. 

his throat feels parched and his quickened heartbeat is pounding in his ears, but he stays unmoving from his position. with apparent hesitation, she walks over to him. a question lingers in averted eyes, much like the one in his. 

he wonders if she can notice the flush in his cheeks. “um, usually we do,” dowon rubs the back of his neck, “but the next shipping got delayed. i can check in the back though if you’ll give me a minute?” he doubts it’ll be there, but the look on her face makes him want to double check, and then maybe even check again.

it is known that while ryu yiseul found footing in her academics and professional life, what competence she held in those fields was sorely lacking in social settings. a little too stuck in the world of books and far off lands her naivety and unsureness were noticeable in situations like these.

she understands in her own fit of nerves that one should not judge a book by its cover, but she’s not naive enough to ignore her instincts. well maybe. just from past experiences, yiseul is aware that people dressed like the cashier in front of her rarely interacted with her unless they wanted to copy an assignment.

but yiseul suppose that could just be a lingering after-effect of her youth, and if one were to look at her past they would come to realize that her haughty exterior had more to do with her lack of friends outside her carefully curated friend group than clothing choices.

she had seen him before, arm lengths encounter on the elevator, quick glances when she stepped out to get her packages, and of course, her almost daily trips to the convenience store. the idea of approaching and speaking to the man should not be so daunting.

they were neighbors after all — and well, the supplier to her many needs of red bean ice cream and packs of ramen. it could not hurt, and it would be rude not to give him a chance and to properly introduce herself.

slender yet callused fingers fidget as yiseul awaits the man’s words, his cheeks are slightly red, perhaps from the heat? she knows that pain well enough, her years of staying cooped up in her bedroom or in the company of bookshelves had made her prone to overheating.

“oh,” the disappointment lingers in her voice, she should have known, she recalls one of her co-workers complaining about the mess of supplies chain that seemed overwhelming to so many restaurants and companies. yiseul hums in thought for a moment, looking down at the candy bars settled near the cashier.

“no it’s alright, i don’t want to bother you,” she finally explains, her own cheeks warming at the idea of inconveniencing someone, though it would be rude not to buy anything. yiseul hums in thought for a moment, looking down at the candy bars settled near the cashier — picking up a random chocolate bar, she places it onto the counter. “i’ll just uh take this..”

her smile is strained as she looks at the cashier in the eye for the first time. the worst of it had to be over right? “you live at center point right? so we’re somewhat neighbors, so just give me a heads up next time you guys have some delivered.”

[yiseuuls]

hello friends, i’m opening up short threads for the halloween event for yiseul and @caelumms so like this post and i’ll come into your dms 

[yiseuuls]

@slidetckle

Hel...

fingers hover over the delete key, the sound of a fan overpowering the silence before the three letters quickly vanish. 

Dear..

a cursor appears on the laptop screen, pressing on a different tab, the arrow hovers the name son junghwa. 

Dear Son Junghwa,

Hello! I hope this email finds you well!

the typing ceases as the ding of a microwave rips through the silence. the writer steps away from the desk, lithe footsteps moving further away.

ten minutes pass, the writer returns to the desk, her attention darts towards her phone ( the screen is opened to an instagram, titled garnish ) before five more minutes pass.

I am a journalist from Bite Magazine based in Busan, South Korea and I am currently writing a book on the food la..

the typing ceases, the delete button is pressed again. 

I am a journalist from Bite Magazine based in Busan, and I am currently writing a book on the culinary landscape of Ville City. I would appreciate..

the writer scrunches her nose, tapping the arms of her chair as she struggles to find the best line for the next sentence.

Upon reading more about your story and your restaurant Garnish, I would love the opportunity to interview you. If you are interested please respond to this email at your earliest convenience, but I can also be reached through my cellphone xxx-xxx-xxxx!

Thank You for your time,

Ryu Yiseul

Journalist | Bite Magazine | RyuYiseul93@xmail.com  

eyes scan over the email once more, checking for typos and reaffirming the name of the recipient and her restaurant is correct. the woman quickly presses send, before quickly pulling out her planner, marking something down before her attention returns to her phone.

[yiseuuls]

— (  it's apparent I can't bear it and I swear it / @xdowonx

two steps forward — a right at the second aisle. the cloth of a pale green skirt barely avoid the towering display of cans, eyes that linger at the latest display of instant ramen before ultimately realizing she could probably make a better bowl of ramen with the ingredients she had at home then quickly take three more steps forward to the freezer section.

her eyes scan the array of brightly colored packaging — cheerful cartoons littering the plastic, ridiculous names and flavors calling out to be consumed. but yiseul’s fingers do not brush against those pints, instead, she’s quickly coming to the conclusion that the flavor she had been craving is nowhere to be seen. the writer’s lips drop into a stiff frown, that was not in her cards for today.

she supposes — as she recalls her friends’ teasing at her insistent craving for red bean ice cream, that it is not a flavor that most companies care for. the flavor of tired grannies, stubborn old men, and the pretentious. why not mango? chocolate? or rocky road. regardless, whatever red bean ice cream sells well to the masses is not important to yiseul, what more important is the convenience store’s constant supply seems to run dry.

who else could be buying it? yiseul’s inner lip finds company with her teeth. any reasonable person with a craving so strong would approach the store staff in hopes they had some in the back. but the crawl of nerves climbing her spine is one that is something she rarely ignores.  a step back, from this angle she can see the ever-familiar cashier, intimidating piercings and all.  

the anxiety in her chest screams but the craving on the tip of her tongue dreams of the sweet taste of her childhood at the beachside. 

five steps forward and a mantra repeating in yiseul’s head.

“hello, sorry to bother you,” the mantra escapes her lips, “i have a question..do you still carry red bean ice cream?” 

[yiseuuls]

hi everyone! it’s sunghyun’s ( @caelumms )mun with a second muse, ryu yiseul! she’s a capricious food critic/journalist who’s from seoul, who worked at a food magazine doing reviews and recipes for the publication. anyways she was sent by her head editor to do a book on the food community at ville city. she’s been at center point for 4 months so ur girl’s very new to the community. so please like this post if you would like to plot with her and click the read more to learn about her! and her bios right here! 

yiseul grew up an only child, her father a school teacher and her mother a stay at home mom,  her mother used to make her own jam as a hobby and therefore that made yiseul quite interested in baking pastries throughout her youth.

she was very shy as a child, and had a hard time making friends until she started to share the pastries her mom would make with her.

she fell in love with cooking in middle school but also poetry as well during her literature classes.

she is rather formal, her parents aren’t sure where she got it from, but tend to joke it’s because of her love for historical novels and films

she has a korean lit degree from ewha womans university; she worked a local bookstore and also participated in poetry readings throughout college

went to japan for a study aboard program for two semesters

moved to busan for a job at a food magazine, and her editor is crazy, therefore it wasn’t uncommon for yiseul to be given last minute assignments like tracking mountains or jetting off to a different country to find food to review for her blog

was sent to ville city to do a deep dive on the food community’s and how fusion food is growing here.

is very much a homebody, has probably left the house five times since moving in

thinks she’s lowkey dying because the floor she’s on, and has not yet experienced all her belongings disappearing but you know she’ll die when that happens

she has a crush on mr kwok </3 her face turns into a red tomato when she sees him

plot ideas?

maybe childhood friends? y’all know dindin and hyunyoung’s friendship like that.

you find her stash of corny romance webtoons

college buddies!

study aboard pals !

you know her from her poetry nights mb?

maybe you read her blog and left anonymous comments or smth like that

your muse forces her to live a little

im down for anything!!

[yiseuuls]

“But in a solitary life, there are rare moments when another soul dips near yours, as stars once a year brush the earth. Such a constellation was he to me.”

Madeline Miller, Circe

[yiseuuls]

리틀 포레스트 (Little Forest), dir. Yim Soon-rye (2018)