#;;things only mun cares about

[helluva-hazbins]

I think my Husk prefers a Bowler Derby style hat.

[cahrolinehasmoved]

i'm still sad about caroline and tommy becoming besties at nightwing...only for tommy to only get possessed that same day care makes their friendship official by making him a friendship bracelet.

[fzrticv]

.

[saintslaughter-a]

today has been a nightmare. im miserable.

[deathwis-arc]

honestly, it's really interesting thinking about how the events of the desert dream in 1998 would get blown out of proportion in the coming years ; hell, it already kinda is twenty-four hours later. not only does the fbi get involved ( and they get involved quick ) but the entire thing is immediately labeled as 'the desert dream massacre' which is ... simply not true. if tyler doesn't kill joyce and michelle isn't shot then the total body count is four cops, with two on life support from the motel burning down. this is literally confirmed in game!

events get labeled as massacres if there's a huge body count, or if it's violent enough. the desert dream killings were neither. all the victims were shot, usually at a distance, or they suffered from burns ; which, while violent, it was more of an escape attempt on the holts' part than anything else. i also find it telling that, even if the holts kill a hostage or two, agent bradley doesn't bother mentioning that in private. all he cares about is the cops lost to the standoff. it's no surprise that killing an officer will get you a more severe punishment then if you kill a regular person, that it can sometimes send you straight to death row on its own, but the fact they don't even care about the deaths of any of the hostages ... it sure is something.

especially since the only hostage deaths in the desert dream can turn the only two kids in the game into orphans. or on the flip side, if the holts didn't harm a hostage, there's no mention of that either. or how the hostages were treated, which compared to usual hostage situations, they got it better than most. it's just the fact that they killed cops ( who were under the thumb of a corrupt sheriff, by the way ) that made this into a massacre. though i wouldn't be surprised if to the public the force would then heavily focus on any other victims, that's usually what happens normally, after all.

anyway, point is, classism does play a role in how cases and crimes are treated -- especially back then. the holts were poor, notoriously so, and they were a family full of drop-outs with nothing to their names. the very second they escape the motel, their names are plastered all over the country and their fates ( including jay's, who's merely an eighteen year old who was an accomplice at best ) are decided : they're going straight to death row. even if jay tries to do the right thing and come clean to agent bradley, tries to turn on his family, said guy immediately goes to pin all the murders on him, for seemingly no reason at all! it's very unjust, and ah ... shady!

the news and papers hype up their crime spree and i wouldn't be shocked that within a couple years, the holts would be presented as bloodthirsty rednecks who were simply greedy rather than a family that didn't have any help and got in way over their heads. the narrative would be twisted so much, especially if three of the holts were never found. there'd be no word from their side, no mention of the thugs who were threatening to kill them, just a true crime story where they were at the forefront of a very unfortunate situation and got away with it. leaving gossips to fill in the blanks as they please, and considering the police's and the fbi's behavior towards this case, they would only fuel the narrative that the holts were a family who did all this on purpose and relished in the aftermath, a family who loved doing the crime.

anyway, it's just something i love thinking about for post canon stuff when it comes to my adf muses. how wildly inaccurate the story's become in time, simply because people got bored or because of the classism back then that was so woven into the broadcasted crime that it's become impossible to separate the two. they'd paint the holts out to be wildly dangerous, cruel individuals and probably spin tales about unsolved murders and robberies and how it could be the work of a holt who had got away. their entire motivation would be obscured and would've gone unsaid, leaving random civilians and a force who hates them to speak for them instead. it'd be a whole thing! and the desert dream was dramatic, sure, but by the time everything is said and done you'd probably barely recognize what the media was talking about had you actually been there.

[malusrecord]

((I need to outline this properly on my main page but please note that private and request only muses are completely different beasts in regards to this blog.

Private muses, while also request only, are generally very extreme, very triggering characters and I won't write them with someone who doesn't understand that, how I write them and handle the topics surrounding them, etc. Extensive ooc communication is necessary before interacting can happen.

Request only muses are more like the general muses on offer but my muse for them is finicky/particular, I might have a hard line or two concerning the source material, etc. Ultimately it's much easier to interact with the request only muses compared to the private ones.))

[lawain-dimensional-heroes]

My muses: have superpowers The drabbles I write that I love: just them living as normal human being instead of super powered beings.

[godzexperiment]

nix actually could teach some stuff to people he cares about (that isn't just chaos through contact) and it's really neat to think about him doing so *even if like good luck not looking kinda silly repeating random information about vending machine models that you learned from him*

[taviokapudding]

Happy Lunar New Year

I have 1 fucking wish for the year and that’s the Genshin community being nicer to content creators

Everyone who told me on tiktok in 2022, just before Scaramouche’s Irminsul archon quest, wHy WoUlD zHonGli bE wOrRieD aBouT NaHidA? ArE yOu sTuPid? when I pointed out how weird it was that he didn’t ever get involved on checking up on her despite mourning the loss of the original 7 and how important it was that he told us the traveler to pay attention to what’s happening in the world - be the one with the memory

I see you all accepting Zhongli a descender theory

You all owe me an apology; I indirectly figured it out before we got the lore about the descenders confirmed.

The absolute backlash I got after making those 2 videos prior to that plot reveal is why I stopped making Genshin inconsistency plot detail videos & why I haven’t made that Scaramouche character design video. If everyone chills out, maybe I’ll indirectly reveal the plot again beyond just writing things down on here and hoping everyone sees. {like btw I’m calling it now, Zhongli probably has a contract saying he can’t get involved in Irminsul bs because of his descender status- probably the same reason why he worked out a deal with La Signora. Imagine if the people of Liyue found out their archon was an outlander & not just an adeptus}

[kahrma-a]

Tag dump Mun and Things

[mintymemesandrpshop]

Mun Communication Preferences based meme

🏠 Do you prefer to RP within just one fandom, or more? Which verses of yours are more, or less compatible with others? 🗺️ How open are you to meeting new people? Do you like your muses being mentioned IC? To just anyone, or only fandoms/friends that you know? 🪀 How do OOC posts make you feel? Do they affect your IC writing or flow, to know other muns better? 🐣 Is there anything you're new at, just now learning, or practicing when it comes to RP? 💡Do you get ideas from reading meta/headcanons/bios, or do those only pop up as you write? 💌 Have you ever hit it off with a mun right away? What were they like? How fast do you think it takes to warm up to new people? 💋 Are you silly ooc? Casual? Chatty? Do you prefer or enjoy things like small talk, when not rping? 🩵 Do you have any apparent flaws when it comes to RPing/interacting? Be gentle with yourself! 👾 Is knowing a fandom more comfortable when RPing, or do you prefer knowing muns? (Overall.) Do you try new things, or get into new fandoms? ✨ Are you easily intimidated by muns or muses that you admire? ❤️ How does the love in your heart affect how you RP? Any other notable emotions? 🪽 In what way is tumblr better than real life for you? Different from your personal dash, if you have one? 🧤 Name the last need that you Had to take care of before rping!! Anything that made you leave dash, or before turning on the computer, etc.! 🟢 Do You like to tell people when you're online? Why or Why not? 🪪 What's consistent between RP life and not? Anything about you bleed into your writing? 🔦 Connect the dots between you and your muse. Ways that you're the same, different, last time you thought about them, etc. 🎀 What's the last nice thing you saw pertaining to rp?

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Interruption | Part 04

-> Pairing: mafia husband!Kim Hongjoong x mafia wife!Reader

-> Sypnosis: Things go to hell for Y/N.

-> Warnings: mafia au. Italics are flashbacks. the other korea is mentioned. talks of being a spy. alludes to someone being told to kill themselves. guns. someone gets shot (but spoiler: they don't die).

-> Word Count: 1,490

-> Taglist: open. Leave a comment on the masterlist post, send an ask or fill out the taglist form.

Interruption Masterlist | Hongjoong Masterlist | Tag List Form

As they make their way to the restaurant, Y/N flips through the folder that Wooyoung had given her earlier. “Ha-Na’s mother isn’t blameless in all of this,” she remarks, her eyes scanning the pages before she passes them to Hongjoong. Several sheets are filled with old photographs and documents related to the woman and her daughter. The folder starts to feel like a ticking time bomb, each page a revealing something that could unravel the carefully constructed facade Ha-Na’s and her mother, Ahn Soo-Ah have created for themselves. “She was troubled well before she got involved with Mun and my father.”  

She pauses when she sees the face of the man who had tormented her mother after her father abandoned them. His cold, calculating gaze seems to pierce through her, rekindling the rage she felt the last time she encountered him. Her fists tighten as she realizes that this woman not only played a part in her father leaving but also in the hell that ensued afterwards.  

“Ha-Na and her mother have no clue who they’re up against,” she mutters, mostly to herself, but Hongjoong nods in agreement. He’s seen firsthand the consequences of someone pushing his wife too far and feels no sympathy for anyone who might provoke her. 

“We need to be more careful this time,” Hongjoong advises her. “This isn’t just about someone trying to take over our empire. It’s much more personal than that,” he says taking the folder from her.  

Y/N pulls out her phone and calls Yunho. The man picks up immediately. "We're on our way," he informs her.  

"I need to know if you found anything about my father?" she asks.  

"I was just about to send you his details and address," he replies. “You should also know Ha-Na's mother is with him.”  

"Forward it to some of our men and have them bring them to Mun's restaurant," she instructs. "Make sure to warn them that if they try anything, they'll be dead the moment they step through those doors." 

With that she ends the call as they pull up outside the restaurant. 

“Sorry, my mother couldn’t make it. She was murdered not long after our father left her, but you already know that,” Y/N glances at her father and doesn’t find an ounce of remorse but she can see the fear in them. “Now sit,” she orders all of them. San forces her father to sit down as Soo-Ah quickly sits in the chair next to him, feigning being terrified.  

“You too, Ha-Na,” she says waving her gun at her before pointing it at her mother. “I don’t want to kill her before you hear what I have to say.” 

Wooyoung comes closer, snatching the gun from Ha-Na, glaring at her and forces her into the chair next to her mother. With the gun pointed at her mother, Ha-Na abides and doesn’t make a fuss. Now that Soo-Ah was brought into it, Ha-Na calmed and the situation became more controllable. It was all the proof she needed to know that the woman who had broken her family is her half-sister's weakness. 

“Do you know why your mother stayed with Mun and our dear father had to wait all those years to be with her?” she questions Ha-Na, leaning in closer to her. “I’m sure you do since you’re all in this together,” she says waiting for Ha-Na to reply. The younger woman shakes her head but her quick glance towards her mother tells Y/N that she’s lying. “That’s what I thought. You two are close right?” she asks looking between the two women. They both nod. “That must be nice,” she mutters and steps back from them while Yeosang hands her the folder she’d been going through earlier. She opens it and drops it, its contents spilling on to the table, showing photos of a younger version of Soo-Ah, with a man dressed in military gear. Some of the photos she has a large belly, and some of them have her with a baby.  

Y/N observes as Soo-Ah's fake look of fright, turns into one of anger showing where Ha-Na gets her terrible acting skills from. 

“You didn’t think I would find out that you were enlisted as a spy?” She taunts. “Or that Ahn Soo-Ah is not your real name? Ri Mi-Rae.” 

Upon hearing her real name, Soo-Ah's face darkens. If looks could kill, Y/N would be six feet under. The atmosphere shifts, the air thick with unspoken threats. Hongjoong steps closer to Y/N, sensing the tension. He places a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but his eyes remain fixed on Soo-Ah. 

Soo-Ah hisses, her voice low and dangerous, "You have no idea what you're dealing with." 

"I know exactly what I'm dealing with, Ri Mi-Rae,” Y/N straightens, her resolve hardening. “You’re nothing but a con-woman who leaves destruction everywhere she goes. I’m truly surprised the North hasn’t caught up with you, yet. Maybe I should send you back myself.” 

“She would rather kill herself, than go back there,” Ha-Na retorts, while their father continues to sit there scared for their lives. 

“Should we test that?” Y/N says, taking a gun and handing it towards Mi-Rae only when everyone of her mens guns were pointed at her. “Try anything and they’ll end you quicker than you can blink. Now go on, prove your daughter right,” she urges, her tone a mix of challenge and provocation. 

Mi-Rae's eyes flickered to the gun, then back to Y/N. With her head held high, she silently refuses to take the gun. "You think you can intimidate me?" Mi-Rae finally spoke, her voice steady. "You have no idea what I’ve survived, what I’ve done to stay alive. You, little girl, don’t scare me. I’ve faced worse than you."  

Y/N's grip on the gun tightens, her resolve unyielding. "This isn't about fear. It's about choices you’ve made and how you’ve involved me in them,” she says her voice rising. Aiming the gun at Ha-Na while keeping her eyes locked on Mi-Rae, she pulls the trigger, ending Ha-Na’s life in an instant. "That was for my mother." 

Mi-Rae looks at her a mix of shock and fury in her eyes. Ha-Na's body crumples to the ground, lifeless, letting Mi-Rae and her father, Ha-Joon know that she is no longer playing around.  

Ha-Joon, filled with fear and confusion as he watched the scene unfolding in front of him, finally finds his voice. "You're a monster."  

"Is that so? And who do you think turned me into this, father?" Y/N retorts, allowing her emotions to spill over towards the man who had abandoned her all those years ago. Just hearing his voice brought back memories long forgotten about and she was transported back to being that little girl, lost and alone. 

Seizing the moment of distraction, Mi-Rae quickly grabs a gun and fires shots as she dashes out towards the back.  

"Get her!" Y/N yells at her men as they duck for cover. Four of them make chase after Mi-Rae as she looks around to make sure no one was hit. 

That's when her eyes land on her husband, bleeding from his chest and gasping for air. Her heart sinks into her stomach as she hurries to his side, and covers his wound with her hands trying to stop the bleeding as she yells at the others to help. Tears began to sting her eyes as she felt the warmth of his blood seep through her fingers.  

"Stay with me," she begs, her voice shaking as panic grips her throat. She has never felt this terrified in her entire life. 

"Y/N," Hongjoong's voice emerged weak and raspy as he lifted a hand to gently caress her cheek. "You need to get out of here. This isn’t safe for you." His eyes, usually so full of life, were clouded with pain, and Y/N could see the flicker of fear in them, not for himself, but for her.  

"I won’t leave you," she cries, her heart racing as she presses harder against the wound, trying to will the blood to stop flowing.  

"Y/N, listen to me," he gasped, his breath coming in shallow bursts. He winced, his hand slipping from her cheek to grip her wrist, his fingers trembling just as badly as hers. "I love you, Y/N. No matter what happens, remember that." His eyes locked onto hers, he calls for Wooyoung, “Get her out of here.” 

Before anything more could be said, San pushes his way in, replacing Y/N’s hands with his own as Wooyoung pulls her up and rushes her out of the building before she has time to process what’s happening. 

As she sits in the car with Wooyoung at the wheel, a chilling numbness envelopes the Mafia Queen’s body. Her voice, icy and determined, sends shivers down Wooyoung's spine as she declares, "I’m going to kill all of them. Her and everyone she cares about is dead." 

@do-you-remember-summer-127 - @staytiny2000 - @rainydayteacups - @kpopmenace143 - @treehouse-mouse -

@alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea - @rainydayteacups - @green-agent - @tinyelfperson -

@yeonjunnie – @hollxe1 - @laylasbunbunny – @deltamoon666 - @skz1-4-3 -

@everythingboutkpop - @oddracha - @http-gyu - @skittyneos - @pinkpunkdynamite -

@keshivibes - @katsukis1wife - @jjoongstar - @arki-sha - @forever-atiny -

@lixisoul99

[slytherinshua]

MISS ME?

genre. fluff. warnings. general uncanny counter stuff. spoilers (obv). pairing. so mun x counter!reader. wc. 983. a/n. requested by anon. this is probably rly shitty cause im questioning my own writing skills everyday atp. but yay im finally writing for uncanny counter!!

You weren’t usually worried about Mun. He was the ace of the team, one of the strongest, smartest, most stable counters you had ever met. He went into every mission determined to catch the evil spirit and he rarely failed.

But usually you were right beside him while he did it. Being there and fighting with him let you make sure he was okay— it allowed you a sense of security knowing that you could protect him if he needed it. But you weren’t on the mission right now and it was starting to really freak you out.

You were prepared to go fight the evil spirit with the rest of the team as soon as Hana had spotted it, but you had sustained serious injuries from the last level 3 evil spirit the day before that even Ms. Chu wasn’t able to completely heal. 

You knew your boyfriend only did it out of worry and care and love for you— making you stay behind on the mission, promising that he and the rest of the team would be okay and back by your side soon, encouraging you to rest up and not worry about him. But how could you possibly do that? He was the only thing on your mind from the second he left.

At first you thought of how he must be having some fun kicking some evil spirit’s ass. He probably looked really good while doing it, too. With his sarcastic comments and little celebrations whenever he did something that looked like it should be out of a superhero movie. He was adorable on and off the battlefield.

But as the hours went on and he still wasn’t back, your thoughts became more worried. What if the evil spirit was actually a level 3? What if Hana had seen wrong? What if he was injured or got separated from the team? There were too many variables in these types of fights. Every day, Mun and the team put their lives at stake to catch another evil spirit, and every success came with struggles. It was rewarding and so so worth it, but the risk was immense.

You could see it just by looking at yourself. How you still felt dizzy and lightheaded if you even stood up too quickly. How your body still ached even after Ms. Chu healing all your big injuries - stitching your body back together from its broken, bruised, and bleeding state. You got worried whenever Mun got so much as a scratch on him. What if he came back seriously injured?

On top of the obvious concerns about his safety the longer the night went on, you realized it had been storming for at least 20 minutes. You hoped the fight was taking place somewhere sheltered. The tracksuits were pretty good at keeping you warm, but amidst a heavy storm in the middle of the night, it wouldn’t be enough.

You felt pitiful, sitting there on your bed wrapped in a blanket when all you could do was wait. Worrying as much as you did for Mun was almost laughable. He was more than capable of taking care of himself. Ever since Cheongsin, he had only improved, and now could use his psychokinesis to its full potential. 

He could beat every single counter on the team in training (except on the occasions were he purposefully let you win). A level 2 shouldn’t be too hard for him, right? Right. You needed to stop worrying so much about your boyfriend. He would come back. He always did.

And it seemed the conclusion to your hours of thinking brought just that. You heard the door to the noodle shop open, the bells jingling and loud sighs echoing through the building. You smiled. From their voices, nobody seemed particularly hurt.

“Unnie’s gang did it again.” Motak could be heard, and you could clearly picture his satisfied grin along with Ms. Chu’s scoff.

“You’re one to celebrate when you almost screwed up the entire mission. So Mun did most of the work.” Hana patted Mun firmly on the back.

“I’ll go check up on Y/n. She’s probably worried about me. Good work, guys.” Mun was quick to dismiss himself from the rest of the group and hurry up the stairs earning teasing comments about how lovesick he was.

“Baby,” He called even before he had opened the door, taking his place right next to you as fast as he could. “Miss me?”

“No, of course not.” You lied, eyes and elated smile giving you away. “You’re all wet.” You mumbled, running a hand through his soaked hair.

“I tried to ask the evil spirit to stop fighting and go to the closest abandoned building, but he didn’t want to.” Mun laughed with a shrug.

“Just a second-” You stood up to grab a towel from the bathroom, holding it over your hands and drying Mun’s hair as if he was a small child.

“I can do it myself, you know?” He complained with his eyes closed.

“I know, but I wanted to.”

“Cause you missed me?” 

“Maybe just a little?” 

“I bet you were thinking about me the entire time I was gone.” He insisted.

“So what if I was?” You asked, giving his hair one last pat with the towel and dropping it on the floor.

“Then I would tell you that I love you and probably kiss you?” He whispered, sneaking his arms around your waist and pulling you down on top of his lap smoothly. You flushed, your cheeks turning a bright red. Mun just laughed, cupping one of your cheeks with his hand.

“Shut up.” You mumbled, trying to think of anything other than your boyfriend at the current moment.

“I love you.” As soon as the words flowed out of his mouth, his lips reached yours in a kiss just like he said. 

↳ k-drama taglist: @yeonjuns-redhair,, @wolfmoonmusic

[caramel-maveeato]

𝟥:𝟥𝟥 ♡˚₊。。。

❧❤ SYNOPSIS: three among all the times you revived butterflies in his garden...  ♡ Pairings/Love interest: So Mun x GN!reader ♡ Genre: fluff ♡ TW: suggestive, detailed descriptions of kissing in part 3, slight cursing, sexual tension but no doing the deed, basically just 3 short fics in the form of 1 long fic because why not ♡ word count: 3.8k

Note: All characters originated from “The Uncanny Counter/Amazing Rumor” except for Y/n.  (I love this theme so much wtf why he so pretty)

English is not my first language!!! Sorry in advance if I make any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

So Mun was one to be driven by love. Whether it’s platonic or romantic, both are irreplaceable in his life. 

He didn’t understand why some people dated just to waste their time. Witnessing how strong of a bond his parents shared ever since he was a kid, he believed the wondrous word "lovers" could never be used halfheartedly. That being said, ever since a relationship with you has flowered, merely your existence was already plentiful enough to bring him to his knees. 

Once he fell, So Mun unconsciously became a hopeless romantic, hands down. 

Every day with you resembled a spring rain, gleaming drops of the sky mizzling outside the closed window; bracingly excited, nonetheless pleasant. Liveliness erupted through every one of his veins when the first thing he saw after a long rest was your sleeping face, savoring in tranquility next to him.

He skimmed his hand—which was lazing around on your hip—over to fix any part of the blanket that had slided off your body. Warm fingers sailed their way down your back and danced along the divine curve. Each stroke was careful enough not to disturb your sleep as the small distance between you two was diminished through his gentle pull. 

Laid between the entangled fingers was a vague squeeze. A smile instantly pervaded his face just from the sight of your eyelids slowly fluttering open, his own image mirroring in those crystalline pupils: “Good morning, baby.”

“Morning…” There it was, your raspy morning voice that he looked forward to every day: “What time is it?”

He glanced at the clock, his digits soothing your upper back and shoulder blazes: “It’s still early; you can go back to sleep.” 

Your habit of always waking up beside each other had almost been set in stone—whether in the back seat of the car, the dinner table, or even in the middle of the boxing ring—to the point that all of your accustomed actions had become so predictable for So Mun that he could correctly guess what gestures you’d impulsively do every time morning knocked on your door.

Drowsiness straggled on your eyelids as you let darkness cloak your vision. You drew a tiny hum, your body moved on its own from the guidance of the familiar warmth and soon enough, you were secured inside his embrace again: “Just… ten more minutes.”

Habit or not, he didn’t mind how effortlessly you could accelerate the rhythm of his heart: “Sure.”

“Actually…” The elation on So Mun’s face dilated through the tenderness of your hair scratching on his skin, tiny nuzzles of your nose followed by faint inhales and exhales on his neck. His heart swelled when kisses like a touch of a delicate wing brushing against his Adam’s apple: “Maybe more than ten.”

He laughed, habitually running a hand through your hair: “How about twenty minutes?”

“As long as possible. I want to stay like this for a while longer.” Your arm returned to its home around him, fingers enveloped in an instinctive grasp to anchor yourself to a sense of amenity you could only find around So Mun. His morning routine would never be fulfilled without you clinging onto him for at least a lasting moment: “Is that okay?”

You were too dozy to catch onto how his chest faintly vibrated with a chuckle, how a lovely softness perched on the top of your head, nor how a flurry of tiny feathers had taken flight inside him—like songbirds broke free from a hidden cage, euphonious symphony merging into the sky through chaotic felicity. It was haywire, but he loved it: 

“Of course, sleepyhead.”

Cooking is a boyfriend’s duty, so unless it was your own wish, he never let you work a single muscle while in the kitchen. 

It was one of the rare occasions that his grandparents were out of town to visit a relative. And so he anticipated such a perfect opportunity for an indoor date, wasted no time welcoming you into the house. 

A variety of home-made snacks and bags of chips hung around on top of the cabinet. Comfortable silence accompanied him as he stood pouring your favorite soda into an iced cup, completely oblivious to you—whom he supposed was still sitting on the couch scrolling through a long list of movies—already sneaking up to him from behind, footsteps soundless.

With a quiet and almost imperceptible approach, you closed your arms around his waist, physically declaring your profound adoration for your boyfriend: “Hi!”

“Hi, baby.” Your sudden display of affection momentarily startled him, and So Mun laughed at himself just as quickly for flinching. Or maybe he wasn’t flinching. After all, you could never scare him. 

Perhaps his heart jumped from a swarm of fireflies that burst out; something inside him fluttered like leaves in the chilly breeze, carrying him away by a whirlwind of emotion when your chin rested on his shoulder, face nesting in the nape of his neck. 

He giggled, placing the empty can of soda down and wrapping his hand around yours: “What are you doing?”

Despite not facing you, he knew a cheeky grin had already plastered across your face: “What do you think I’m doing?”

So Mun tilted his head back to rest against your own, his words coming out a bit cheesier than he intended. Not that you’d mind it: “It’s not fair, I can’t hug you back like this.” 

“How about you endure it for a bit more? Because I’m, in fact…” 

Your digits traced the fabric of his shirt, one hand of yours retreated from his waist and slided up along his shoulder, quietly brushing the disheveled curls aside. Giving no warning, you closed the final gap between your lips and his exposed flesh, dipping a secretive kiss into the warmth of your whispering voice: “...enjoying this way too much.”

He tensed up. A shiver of delight cascaded down his spine, like a field of wildflowers had sprung to life in every corner of his being. The more your lips dragged along the back of his neck, the more he felt his ears burn up under the temptation of your peppering kisses: 

“That’s cheating.”

“Cheating?” The remaining embrace on his torso gently tightened, another peck spraying on his skin to fill in the pause between your responses: “Am I not even allowed to kiss my boyfriend?”

A hint of embarrassment can be heard in his voice, but he made no effort to squirm off your grasp: “You know very well what you’re doing, Y/n…” 

Every little peck left a tingling sensation in its wake. Open-mouthed kisses you showered him with conveyed gentle provocation. Your fingers fluently grazed through his mullet, making more space for a series of affectionate assaults to scatter along his delicate neck: “I can’t help it, it’s a tradition that neck kisses take place wherever back hugs are.”

So Mun’s heartbeat thundered loudly in his ears, and his upper body would intermittently twitch when some of your kisses were so tender that they turned ticklish. He sighed, his little act of bashfulness was quick to be betrayed by his own chuckle before it could even emerge: “Just so you know, you’re going to pay for this.”

“If you want to threaten me, you should do better.” You evilly blew a hot bit of air into his nape and the ticklishness instantly pulled a reaction out of him: “Because when you make it sound like that, you know I only look forward to it.”

Your little victory didn’t last long as So Mun broke the hug, turning around to meet his eyes with yours. Once your gazes collided, you were too busy drinking in his handsome features to notice a firm grip had already settled under your thighs. And just in a blink of an eye, the solidity of the floor under your feet completely evaporated. 

His movement was so nimble that it sent you dumbfounded for a second. Both of your hands quickly clutched on him for security. But as soon as he lowered you on a hardened surface, heat began to smear through your face as you stared at him in astonishment, eyes widened and lips parted like that one surprised Pikachu meme. 

So Mun stood between your legs, leaning slightly closer to you and the dining table he placed you on, his voice softened as the air hung heavy with anticipation: “I can tell you do look forward to this, love.”

The look of awe in your eyes prompted a satisfied smirk from him. He was proud to have successfully flustered you and he didn't even try to hide it: “Did I surprise you?”

“Would be lying if I said you didn’t. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You blinked a few times, a supposed reply gave up for a shy giggle. Your smile stretched goofily when he pinched on one of your cheeks that had been painted pink:

"Yeah, you're having a good time on this table, aren't you?"

You drew your hands up on his shoulders, subtly pulling him closer, your legs lingering on both sides of his hips: “So, what do you plan on doing to me now?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He tilted his head and smiled—one that never failed to sweep you off your feet. He knew he was fine, and you agreed to that statement with your whole being. 

“It is obvious, but I’d prefer you say it out loud.”

“Hmm…”

“C’mon, say it.”

“I’m going to finish up what you’ve started.” His warm fingers spoke of unvoiced desire and reluctant constraint, hovering just above your waist while he gazed into your eyes for permission: “Can I?””

“Nothing is stopping you, my dear.” Asking for consent before initiating is always so goddamn attractive of him, and who are you to reject such a sweet offer: “Go for it however you want.”

He wasted no time attaching his lips to yours as a silent thank you. His pace was slow but packed with profuse excitement, plump lips soon marching down the underside of your jaw to your neck. 

The first kiss he planted was almost too light to savor, meant to make sure there wouldn’t be any last second change of heart from you although he knew you were no less than him aching for this—judging from how your head voluntarily threw backwards and your arms clasped around him in an effort to banish the space between you two. 

With an exchange of kisses and cheerful smiles, the kitchen abruptly became more than just a place for cooking. You closed your eyes and granted him full-right over the adventure on your skin, but the buttery scent of freshly popped popcorn instantaneously snapped you out of your daze: “Mun, what about the movie?”

A nonchalant hum echoed against your skin, remaining hidden behind a loving kiss: “That can wait.”

Before switching to the new hideout, the basement of Eonnie’s Noodle was unofficially considered your ideal dating place due to how much So Mun works out. 

Since the boxing ring was too publicly arranged, there was no other choice for you but to find a more secluded spot for any possible funny business.

A single window permitted trickles of sunlight into the basement, which was dimly illuminated in the serene solitude of the afternoon. You were sitting on the couch scrolling through social media while your boyfriend was productively doing his daily routine, though you honestly didn’t even pay attention to your phone that much. At the end of the day, he was a much, much better sight to admire. 

Steadily, So Mun lifted his upper body off the mat, his back curving as he went, then lowered himself back down for another repetition. The rhythmic cadence of his breath infiltrated the atmosphere, mixing with the soft rustling of the exercise mat beneath him. 

Time had dashed notably since he started the series of sit-ups, beads of sweat had already glinted on his brow. At one point, the fatigue was gradually waning his strength by the minute, the sounds of his breath came in heavier as evidence of the enlarging weariness.

Moving off the couch, you walked over and knelt down. His eyes thoroughly followed you with a gleam of curiosity as you pressed your palms on top of his feet, keeping them firmly in place: “Need a hand?”

“Yes… thank you.” The anchor he needed was perfectly provided by your supportive hold. So Mun breathed out, just that bit of exhaustion didn’t stop him from smiling brightly at you. 

“Glad to be of service.”

You returned the smile with one of your own, watching as he concentrated on finishing the workout set. Unbeknownst to So Mun, helping him stabilize wasn’t the only purpose you had in mind. Your boyfriend had been working hard all day every day, you wouldn’t want to miss this perfect chance of affectionately messing with him. 

Quiet counting of each sit-up quickly came to a pause when he saw your body reach forward, confidence resurfacing on the corners of your mouth as you placed your chin on his bent knees with playful flirtatiousness. 

The blatant hint quickened his preexistent racing heartbeat, making So Mun swallow thickly: “Is that an invitation?”

You raised your eyebrows, no shame in confirming his suspicion: “Yes, an invitation and a motivation.”

A tint of pink further permeated his already flushed cheeks, whether formed from exercising or the effect you had on him. Either way, you were absolutely loving it. 

Chin still rested between his attached knees while you stayed in the same position. Your head tilted slightly to the side, wordlessly emphasizing your offer. This little push certainly did marvels as you caught his dark brown irises darting down to your lips. For a second, you could almost feel the burn his fervent stare left on you. 

“How thoughtful of you.” He whispered. There was no sarcasm, just reciprocated playfulness. The exertion resumed and he dropped back to the mat again before ascending upward to you who was also reaching for him, slowly but surely bending forward until your faces were pressed together, his soft lips mingling on yours tentatively. 

Your kiss was a touch of a butterfly, but the swirling emotion it brought rushed over to him like a summer rain. He felt you smile against his lips, a tremendously infectious one that caused a smile of his own to bloom as well. 

The “motivation” giveaway progressed for a while before So Mun eventually stopped for a breather, propping his hands on his sides for stability. His voice was breathier than normal, unavoidable from the long session of workout he’d strained himself through, yet strangely hushed in a way that things started stirring up inside your chest: “If your primary intention was to distract me, it is working well above and beyond.” 

“Oh no, is that a complaint that I hear?” You joked. Both of you knew damn well he was just as excited because another peck waited no time to land on your lips right after the question.

“I didn’t say that.” His gaze escorted you as your hands were now withdrawn from his shoes. He relaxed one leg, straightening it against the black mat: “I mean, you should consider ‘distracting’ me more often.”

You laughed: “Straight to the point, huh?”

“I was only being honest! It’s kinda lonely training by myself sometimes, I’d be happy to have a companion stay with me here and there.” So Mun vaguely gave you a shrug, although the way he never vacated your eyes implied that he wasn’t exactly as nonchalant as he tried to present: “Plus, you don’t seem to mind helping me with the sit-ups.”

His excuse was cut in half as you mercilessly exposed him with a proud wink: “I think you just want to see me.”

Hesitation gained no room in your answer and So Mun found himself pouting at that: “Yeah, that’s also one of the reasons.” 

Bashfulness clouded inside his throat, if you didn’t happen to be right in front of him, maybe his reply would’ve sounded like an indistinct murmur. You bit the inside of your cheek to not burst out laughing: “Aww, really?”

“You just can’t take me seriously, can you?” He rolled his eyes, letting loose a chuckle to melt into the atmosphere: “Yes, baby. I always want to see you. What’s so wrong about it?” 

His thumb sweetly stroked your cheek. The delight in his eyes glistened when you spontaneously angled your face to search for more contact. You didn’t realize how this seemingly innocent gesture could ignite so great of a mental fire, perhaps So Mun had mastered the art of captivating you whenever he’d like: “Us spending time together in everything else is not enough. Even during training, I still want to see you.”

You could feel heat radiating off his skin, and it took all of your sanity to stop your smile from widening. Suddenly, the veil of tension drooped between you was no longer thin, marking the tinge of color on your cheeks even more evident: “Tch, you just had to make everything sound so sweet.”

“Is that so?” He grinned, gliding up along your arm before his fingers encircled it. Then, he slightly bent forward—a tenuous suggestion that you caught on to right away: “Was it too sweet for your liking?”

At this point, you were programmed to be intuitively drawn into him like a moth flitted into flame. Your self-restraint had left the room yet you couldn’t care less: “It was sugary as hell, but accepted and appreciated.”

“I’m glad you approved.” So Mun chuckled through a half-whisper. The next thing you knew, your lips had connected with his again. 

The sensation was perfectly blended like two puzzle pieces completing each other. Taking advantage of your current position you pushed your palm against his bent knee and knocked his legs apart, climbing over on top of him. Your other hand rested on his shoulder as an affirmation of dominance as you pressed him flat down on the exercise mat, your lips still joined like an unbreakable knot.

A dull, nearly inaudible thud echoed throughout the basement as he fell backward. However, the sound of hurried gasping was close to completely concealing it. So Mun’s adoration for each time you took the lead was impractical to convert into words. Especially when it’s not an everyday matter that he’d be locked underneath you like this, your lips crushing and caressing him with breathtaking friction, drowning him in the ocean of butterflies he created himself. 

With every passing second, the butterflies appeared increasingly vibrant, their presence peculiarly resembling a secret uttered as a reminder that he was alive. So Mun’s lips moved in tandem with your own, eyes shut tight to intensify the passion to the utmost. The kiss itself remained just as sweet as how you taste, bearing unspoken fervor in each dance and he couldn’t help but yearn for more. 

Your fingertips were occupied on his cheek and the underside of his jaw, forcing his face up for easier access. Yet, every time your tongue swiped over his bottom lip, feeding his expectation for a deeper kiss, you always managed to retreat too fast for his craving. The soft groan of need earned himself a snicker from your side, certifying that your moment of affection had somehow progressed into a battle of teasing and hunting. 

This was where you knew whatever you plotted just came out successful. So Mun chased you up despite already being helpless beneath you, trying to fill the gap between your parted lips with his tongue which you happily fought back with the same tactic, off and on nibbling on his lower lip. But what you didn’t foresee was a flip in position when he suddenly rolled you over, effortlessly overthrowing the control you held within a heartbeat. 

As soon as your whimper of surprise was heard, So Mun ducked down and overpowered you by molding his mouth against yours, finally taking what he had longed for. Your fingers dug into his curls uncaring about the slight wetness grazing your hand as the result of his previous training, tugging a low grunt out of the back of his throat. Intoxication detonated where your lips were encountered. The contact was identical to walking on air, a feather-light buoyancy elevating spirits. 

He broke apart, giving the two of you a breather. His round eyes stuck on your face while you tried to regulate your breath, not looking any better than him with your swollen lips moistened by his saliva, or maybe your own? The answer wouldn’t matter anyway. 

“One more?” A certain hunger exuded from him in a way that was remarkably thrilling. Rosiness engulfed his face and his lips pinkened from making out—a side of him only you were allowed to see. And once he recognized pure desperation in your half-lidded eyes, he smiled, his voice soft but hoarse under the influence of his feverish need:  “One more.”

You’d be a liar if you said this wasn’t the hottest fucking thing you’ve witnessed in your life. 

Time stopped and flied every time your mouths glued together and pulled apart. You were kissed into losing all perceptions by now, capable of doing nothing but huffing and puffing underneath his body. 

“What got you so riled up?” You asked between the shallow breaths, sounding so innocently as if it was him who turned out to be the rise of his own eagerness. 

“Are you seriously asking that question?” He jerked up one of his brows, moving a strand of hair off your forehead: “It was you who started the whole thing.”

Your hand gently squeezed his where they were still intertwined: “Guilty and proud of it.”

“Of course you’d say that.” His minty breath strenuously washed over your face. You inhaled deeply to seek out the familiar scent he carried; for some reason it smelled even more addictive due to a hint of sweat and a flow of devotion. Combined with desire as well, that’s for sure. 

Those couple of inches between your mouths were awfully tempting. So Mun dipped his face, aiming straight at your lips but he abruptly stopped before another kiss could take place, mumbling softly against your mouth as he grinned: “You’re going to get us in trouble someday, you know that?” 

Your free hand was clasped on the crook of his neck, bracing yourself for what your boyfriend had planned out for you. With obviously messy hair and reddened lips, you’d pray for your teammates to not accidentally walk in or take notice of your aftermath appearance when you exited the basement. But eventually that thought was the least important to you right now: 

“I think it’s supposed to be you who is going to get us in trouble someday, So Mun-ah.”

[Tag List] ✿⌦ @slytherinshua (feel free to notify me if you want to be on the tag list)

I could've finished this fic last week but my procrastination fucked me up so... Sorry for taking too long i hope this is worth the wait

[songsofbat]

what's the use of feeling what's the use of feeling oh what's the use of feeling blue (or, mun feels like writing corus but they're already in a roleplay..)

There's someone in their mind.

Corus-Calla-Corvus is... aware of that. There's something wrong and they can feel themselves flicker in and out of consciousness.

It's their minds eye that leads them onwards, stumbling blindly so they can grip onto hand rails and get rid of their mistakes.

Their flaws.

But every now and then they sort of...stop.

Stare at their phone. Or the wall. Not quite the wall. The emotions on it- crawling, crawling, ever crawling. A web.

They track their hand over twisting strands.

They're so tired.

There's so much to do.

Poda's going to make sure Signal doesn't... stop them, they suppose. So at least they won't have to worry about that.

"I don't understand." says the thing that sounds like a funeral dirge. "Why are you checking on people? The only one who wants you around is the white haired child. He doesn't seem to need you around."

It doesn't say Ceph doesn't care, at least. Maybe ignoring its words and burning it had given it the hint.

Their body flicks through different screens. The other people who went by Corvid. Vice. The bats. Carnival. Morgan? No, the same. The same.

"You're quite odd," it continues, and there's an upturned quality to its face, a vague widening to the eyes that almost seems like genuine interest. Maybe it is. Maybe it's not.

Emotions around it are.. faint. Hard to feel.

"You do not interact with her because she does not want you around. Yet, you watch over her. What exactly do you gain from this? You clearly have no intentions of interfering." They want to throttle it.

So they do.

It stares at them with eyes red like (her) hair.

It doesn't stop.

It won't shut up.

"You're the same as I am," it prattles on. "Wouldn't it be logical for you to either not care about her entirely, or do something about it?"

Why can't the dirge be playing for it?

"It's quite easy to change people's minds, you know!"

Disgusting.

She doesn't want me around, they say, perhaps. Their mouth isn't moving. I'm not like... (Jacyn? Not like you? Not like some obsessed stalker? ) I'll respect that.

I annoy her, they continue. She was tolerating me. I should not disturb her.

...somehow, those emotionless red eyes feel judgemental.

They don't know why they're talking to it.

...maybe because it looks like them. Corus-Calla-Corvus-Corvid, shifted off.

Red eyes. White skirt. Not quite them.

Requiem's fragment stares.

Not quite a fragment.

Something worse, perhaps. Sinking into their consciousness and refusing to leave.

Poda says it refuses to be removed- but that's okay. When they do a proper fixing this time- they'll drag it down with them.

It's okay to talk to it. It's okay to humour it.

It's just... keeping it occupied. Until Poda can get Signal to leave. Until they finally get to fix this mess of a mind.

"You're being quite illogical."

How so.

"You aren't friends."

...and?

"You wish to be friends with her."

Selfish.

"But you want, anyway."

Doesn't mean they have to act on it.

"You wish to be friends. It is causing you...quite some despair. Would it not be easier to simply cut off those feelings?"

If they cut off emotions for other people, they wouldn't be able to protect them.

"Your friendship with her was detrimental to you."

Scroll, scroll. They don't care.

"Forgetting her entirely would be wise. She doesn't care for you, after all."

No more forgetting. No more running. The truth burns, and they'll let it.

"Are you harming yourself?"

The truth is needed. It allows them to make the best possible decisions.

"Are you harming yourself?"

The truth is useful. They can shut off the emotions when they've fixed themselves.

"Are you hurt-"

Shut up.

"Are-"

Shut up.

" Shut

up.

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

Corus-Calla-Corvus-Corvid doesn't deserve to exist.

They're doing what they must.

They're not going to run from the truth.

Gotham doesn't need Corvid as a hero.

Gotham needs tools. Weapons. Shields.

Useful things.

( Once upon a time, there was a Gala. And you learnt how to smile just right, even if you didn't mean it. Once upon the time there were galas. You learnt how to be soft around the edges, pleasant and good. Once upon a time, there was an actor. They were capable of convincing people to not waste their time on them. )

" ?", it asks, and the question sounds unreal.

Because you never hear anybody asking that question in real life.

[cayde-6-hunter-vanguard]

Rules, read 'em.

Asks are still always welcome!

Rules below the cut!

Semi-Selective

No god modding, I won’t tolerate it.

I might do slightly suggestive content. (Based on the vibe check.) Anything graphic will be on discord only. NSFW is strictly discord and done only with people I trust so don't ask. (Which is not many. Not your fault.)

I will provide my discord username for it when it is apparent the roleplay will turn PG-13. If you continue off discord, the thread will be dropped and deleted.

I will try to tag things accordingly, if I miss anything I am sorry. I am only human. Hate anons will be deleted and those who sent them blocked. No excuses. Don't care.

Do not give them children unless discussed with the mun. This is a multi-ship blog.

LGBTQ FRIENDLY 🏳️‍🌈

Hate speech not tolerated here. Go take your bullshit to someone who cares.

My name is Dani, I go by they/them pronouns and I'm 28. Respect them.

My roleplays do not have a time limit. Take your time with replies. I don't mind. We all have our own hectic lives.

I’m open to roleplaying with OCs but please tell me about them before you yeet them at me so I can be prepared. No children OCs unless discussed with me before hand in DMs

Semi-selective with OCs. Cross over friendly but please DM me first.

If you send me an ask or a DM and I don't reply within a timely manner (about a day or so) please don't send me another one. You probably failed the vibe check. Repeated attempts will get you blocked. (You know who you are.)

I take magic anons, but if they don’t pass the vibe check. I won't answer.

I am not my character, Cayde and I are two different ‘people’. He is a fictional character where I am not.

I don’t expect you to match my post length but please don’t expect me to do so as well.

I know all the rules sound big and scary, but trust me. I'm a pretty chill person. If you aren't comfortable RPing on Tumblr, a private option on discord is always available. Comfort is key here.

Like if you read this. ♠️ Rules are subject to change.