#mun-yeong

[angelique-of-the-volturi-guard]

Listen I am on my rewatch of The Glory and aside from being madly in love with both the romantic and unhinged nature of Joo Yeo Jeong, The absolute disparity between the good and bad parents in this show is killing me.

Dong-Eun’s mom? Absolute piece of trash with no class.

Yeon-Jin’s mom? Karen who thinks money and power can buy you anything.

Yeo-Jeong’s mom? Absolutely 100% supportive, but not stupid and committed to doing the right thing.

Kang Hyeon-Nam? The baddest bitch alive, willing to do anything to save her daughter even if it means endangering herself.

And then you have the disparity between Jae Jun and Do-Hyeong, who both cared about Ye-Sol. Jae Jun only cared about her when it was convenient for him and wanted her not because he truly loved her but because he wanted to possess her. Meanwhile, you have Do-Hyeong who is constantly looking out for Ye-Sol’s best interests even though he isn’t biologically related to her.

NOT ONLY THAT, but you also have Yeo-Jeong’s Dad, who was murdered by a patient while doing what he thought was right by saving him, unintentionally starting his son on the path to revenge.

And like yeah The Glory’s main focus is revenge but it’s also an exquisite commentary on how we pass down, inherit, come to terms with, and outright prevent generational trauma from our parents. It also shows how we can choose to do better or worse than they did based on the relationships we create or take for granted.

Idk man, as a generational trauma cycle breaker myself and mom of an (adopted adult) daughter that also experienced so much of that, this show gets to me on a parenting level in a way I can’t even begin to describe.

(Also Do-Yeong’s relationship with Ye-Sol makes me cry in the best way 🥹)

[misandriste]

💌 anon requested: ↳ Nayeon x Ko Moon Young outfit comparison

[veturdraugur]

Just one chance Ko Mun Yeong. Please, I beg 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

[theboookwitch]

When Moon Gang Tae like caresses Ko Mun Yeong’s head and calls her a “Good girl”?!

I’m absolutely feral, babes.

[acredittar]

Disfarcei lágrimas con sorrisos🦋

Sinto que, ao menos no que diz respeito a fingir estar bem, sou a mestra dos disfarces. Afinal, até quem convive comigo todo o tempo, me observando, se assusta quando toda a dor e desespero ficam tão intensos que vem à superfície e eu choro em desespero, e sempre faz a mesma pergunta: mas o que aconteceu? Você estava bem até poucos minutos atrás, tem estado bem..."

Não, mãe, eu não tenho estado bem. Apenas tento me distrair com outras coisas, melhorar e não transparecer o quanto dói, pois não gosto de preocupar ninguém, nem dos olhares nem dos meus próprios "fantasmas". -- sempre temos esse mesmo diálogo. Sempre vejo no rosto dela a tristeza, a frustração e as emoções que eu só posso supor, pois ela não diz.

Não me orgulho de nada disso. Só é complicado. Vivo um dia de cada vez, tentando ficar bem, mas se eu parar pra pensar, eu choro e desabo. E, infelizmente, tem dias e noites que fico pensativa demais.

( Uma Sonhadora )

[writer-zie]

INBOX STATUS MEANINGS

OPEN: open for requests, asks, and everything else!

L-OPEN: open for everything, but responses will be quite delayed.

R-OPEN: open for everything, but I don't reccomend sending anything, as I might not reply to it for a long time.

CLOSED: please don't send stuff

----------——

Heya! Zie here! I write for the fandom and ships below (assume I write for the character if their name is in a ship):

The Uncanny Counter:

Ji Cheong-Sin x Reader (AKA: adventures of Yeong-Nae[1], [2], [3], [4])

Ji Cheong-Sin x evil spirit!Reader

Ms. Chu x Chairman Choi

Ms. Chu & Ga Mo Tak

Ga Mo Tak & So Mun

Ga Mo Tak x Reader or OC

Hwang Pil Gwang/Gelly (possibly)

All Of Us Are Dead:

Lee Cheong-San x Reader or Nam On-Jo

Lee Su-Hyeok x Reader or Choi Nam-Ra

Yoon Gwi-Nam x Reader or OC

[ice-diameta]

It's Okay to Not Be Okay (2020)

“A fairy tale isn’t a hallucinogen that gives us hopes and dreams. It’s a stimulant that makes us face reality. So I hope you all read a lot of fairy tales and wake up from your dreams. … The moment you realize that and accept your reality, Everybody Be Happy. Happy Happy.”

Do you agree with this quote?

I’d been neglecting this as a wip since March and only finished it recently😅 This quote is from It’s Okay to Not Be Okay, probably my favorite K-drama ever. What I liked most about this show was its interpretation of fairy tales and how they correlated with the plot of the show. I personally think it’s an even better crossover with fairy tales compared to the Once Upon a Time series🤭

Another quote from this show that I feel personally rn is “... He may have only done it just once, but I can’t ever forget that.” Even in a period of time filled with bad memories, there is a single good memory in your heart that you could never forget.

[frandeflor]

I just love them

[celiaelise]

I'm 4 episodes in to "It's Okay To Not Be Okay" now! I've cried a little bit!! (it was due to "being the less-favored child" trauma)

Honestly I'm really enjoying the story, personally I find the most jarring aspect to be the fact that they're forcing in romantic moments and implications, (music, visual effects, etc) when the characters are not in a romantic situation at all!!!

Like obviously they're gonna end up together at the end or whatever, but that doesn't mean we need to play a lovely-dovey soundtrack over him literally being harassed!

Like I will absolutely buy into whatever character growth leads to the romance, but we're not there yet!!

(Okay I'm not talking about the motorcycle scene, that was pretty sweet)

I really liked when Ko Mun-yeung was like, "haha okay fine I'll take my dad for a walk, since everyone CARES SO MUCH" and then he immediately tried to kill her. And then she dissolved into hysterical tears/laughter. Like, yeah! You SHOW that hospital staff that this hostility isn't one-sided!! You show them you were justified in neglecting your elderly parent! He doesn't want you here, either! Pretty funny family moment for them.

Oh yeah, I also don't understand the original "deal" She made with the hospital?? Like, if she teaches the class she has to spend time with her dad? Two things she doesn't seem to want to do?? What is she getting out of this? I guess maybe paid for teaching, but it doesn't seem like she's in need of money...

[crookedkingdomruinedme]

When you just finished The Glory and realise that the leads were literally the epitome of “Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss” and “Mansplain, Manipulate, Malewife”

Who’s ready to be the Yeo-jeong to my Dong-eun?

[y-r-all-the-names-taken]

do u get deja vu?

[psychemeanscure]

To celebrate #4YearsWithIOTNBO#ItsOkayToNotBeOkay indeed~ Happy Reading fam! #HyunJi#HyunJis To more years of our mastepiece, yeah!

Enjoy Reading MOONS AND ME Chapter 2,

Family

y'all!

[veturdraugur]

I miss her. Every. Day.

Every day!!

‘Which one?’ You might ask, ‘Ko Mun Yeong or Seo Yea Ji?’

The answer to that is both!!! 😫😫😫

Queen material!!!

[muttonthings]

Kdrama Challenge

Day 2: Best Female Lead

Kim Yu-mi- Yumi's Cells

Shin Ha-ri- Business Proposal

Jeong Tae-eul- The King: Eternal Monarch

Hong Cha-young- Vincenzo

Ko Mun-young- It's Okay to Not be Okay

Nam Haeng-seon- Crash Course in Romance

[coolbeansbuddyofmine]

i once believed love would be black n' white (but it's golden)

five times mun-yeong wished to see colour in her life and once she did (or the one where mun-yeong can only see the colors in 4K resolution when gang-tae is around her, and without him, life is muted)

a fic for kdrama secret santa 2022; for @rabonghee

read it on ao3 here!

im also very sorry this is late. a combination of sickness, travel and family stuff had left me busy last week. i do hope you enjoy, nonetheless, especially @rabonghee

a happy belated christmas and new year to you and your loved ones!

i’ve been sleeping so long in a twenty-year dark night

1. mun yeong’s never had friends before. the boy with the flower at her gate is the first who’s ever come up to approach her and she’s more confused than anything else. everything around her, the world moves so slowly (dreadfully so) in some stupid 20s monochrome film. 

it’s all boring and predictable and even at six, mun yeong knows that life’s not supposed to be like this.

in the books she hides from her mother, read secretly under her covers at night with a soft night light, she knows life can be and have so much more meaning and depth and colour to it than whatever her mother says.

for her few years of life, she’s believed her mother’s every word religiously, hanging on to it as if the word of god herself. her mother is? was? her god, but now, the former believer has committed sacrilege.

free thought has never felt more constraining.

the boy is like a fresh wind of indigo in her imposing house of stark greys and blacks. for her, who’s never seen colour, nor the blinding indigo in a rainbow, he’s her gateway drug.

she wants to pull him to her, magnetised by the beautiful blue hues.

---

he leaves, and she finds herself living in greyscale again.

the things that haunt me in the middle of the night

2. ju ri is kind and loud. mun yeong who would like to be an artist, if she had any talent at it, would paint her a loud and vibrant red; something vermillion or crimson, whatever would describe that prick of a paper cut that first stains it. she could be that crimson, that fresh blood, and she probably is. mun yeong’s eyes are aching and tired, and it filters the world around her, blunting all its edges. 

ju ri is fun, but even she, in the predictability of seongjin city and its coastline, remains predictable. in a world of rectangles and squares, both she and mun yeong are the same; she’s loud in her fury where mun yeong is cold and quiet, that is the only difference. 

the daughters of seongjin are all born angry, it seems.

that boy, mun yeong wonders, is probably a circle. she’s attracted to all those unlike her: that butterfly for one. does fury run in his blood? she wonders. is he a child of seongjin like her? or is a desperate wanderer, a nomad with no grounds to put down, a home that moves around with their people, like her?

does he want to find a home? or has he found it?

even years later, her mind still wanders to the boy who sharpened her edges to show her the most blinding of colors. something blinding in a gradient of darkness, does he pull others into him like he did for her?

is he a star to guide her or a blackhole waiting to devour her?

---

when she kisses ju ri, she wants to see another dazzling color.

she’s disappointed and leaves.

(it’s what she’s good at, after all. leaving just when the relationship was going to inevitably end; it’s called self-preservation, she has to save herself first before the momentum becomes too much and crashes)

luck of the draw only draws the unlucky

3. 

her college boyfriend thinks he’s won. she’s amongst the prettiest women on campus and she knows it: she’s his prize. among the many toys he takes, she’s his one and only trophy. all golden and gilded and glittery surface, hollow and black inside. he plays with her like a toddler with a precious toy; careless and sometimes it hurts. 

but she’s used to falling and bumping and bending. trophies don’t break anyway, he can’t break her because he can’t fix her. or replace her.

all bark and bite, that’s how he likes her. says it makes the sex more fun, and she wants to jeer in his face. her contrarian nature is good for him as long as he wants to roleplay, and beyond it, she’s just a bitch.

(of course she knows of the things he says of her behind her back to his friends. he’s an average steady fuck, so she doesn’t want to quite let go yet.)

when she kisses him, she likes to pretend he’s that boy standing at her gates with a flower. she admires the great bit of courage that boy had picked up to come to her haunted house of a home in all his childish innocence and fears. oppa isn’t brave like him. no, like all good women before she had to bait him and reel him in.

college dating teaches many a great deal about fishing. she would be a pro at it, if she could tolerate amputating and gutting that worm (it feels too alive and her breath catches in anxiety). it’s taught her patience (she barely has some; waiting is for the strong and brave of heart, and she’s far too cowardly to face daunting time).

she doesn’t want to. she tries not to. but inevitably, unfortunately, she tires of oppa sooner than he tires of her. it’s easier to let men leave her, and pretend as if they’ve walked away with breaking her heart (it does things for their ego, and later at night, when they sleep with another, the guilt makes for excellent sex). 

she could scoff. none of her suitors have broken her heart---they’d have to own it in the first place. you can’t break what’s not your own. 

she walks away from the flames and burning embers, as oppa rapidly tries to fan them in vain. she’s not coming back.

it’s a shame she really did like him.

---

she kisses him once again at a party before he graduates. it’s just before he gets piss drunk, and a test for her to see whether any of the remnants of feelings remain.

her heart feels as heavy as steel and yet she’s hollow through and through. within her, her heart is as dense as it is empty, something paradox.

there are so many lines i’ve crossed unforgiven

4. becoming a children’s fiction writer, it’s something she couldn’t even have fathomed in her dreams. she doesn’t think her fiction is for children, even now. it’s based off her own childhood for starters, and that’s appropriate for no child ever. perhaps it is the fantastical elements, the downright grimm-brothers-and-hans-christian-anderson tale that has been her life. like attracts the like, and she’s always thought of life as something a little mystical, unreal even.

something like a long dream she longs to wake up from. 

if everyone that was in her life could see her now. they’d laugh. ko mun yeong? a children’s book author? you must be joking. she hates children.

they’d be right too. she hates children---freud says daughters are a reflection of mother. she’d always thought that lunatic had some truth to his words despite his delusional works most of the times. she is her mother, and all she remembers from that woman is coldness and detachment and her child-like nature to constantly want to please the unhappy, un-pleasable woman. 

(if children got close to her, maybe they’d realize the same and she’d break them. she keeps away for them and herself).

---

she thinks of that boy at her gates. was he as naive and innocent as her? as the other children? would she have broken him then or now?

she’d hate herself more than she does now, more than she can fathom if she had broken him. she’s fine with everyone in the world hating her, but that small part of her traitorous ten-year-old heart still doesn’t want him to ever hate her. not with how much she likes him. still.

---

“was the witch lonely?” a little girl asks her once. her newest book is out, something about the tale of a witch who gobbled children up who came to her door. a little boy spots her eating a child once, her favorite little boy, and he stops at her gates before running away.

the witch never sees him again.

she blinks, and little pinpricks of tears are at the back of her eyes. she wills them not to fall because she’s helen and if she cries, troy will fall. she’s self-sacrificing.

“no, she was bad. a bad bad person. bad people don’t get lonely. they get their come-uppance and have to live with the guilt of their actions, the weight of it, and the people that leave them.” 

she answers it all in one short breath, before smiling and walking away.

---

“people aren’t always bad. they can change.”

not her.

clearing the air, i breathed the smoke

5.

her life has been on auto-pilot. after a certain level of fame, it all started getting a bit too monotonous for her. when the only constant in your life, your only friend is your goddamn publisher, you know it’s getting a little sad. 

she has more than she knows how to spend, and this job is more of a hobby, playing adult, than doing something for actual money. 

life’s too boring, and she aches for just something different. it’s times like this when she thinks of the boy. how unexpectedly delightful he was. a breath of fresh wind in her cooped-up house, something new, something unexpected.

maybe she just misses him. after all, it’s been twenty years now since she saw him last.

the boy...if she could have one wish, one last wish and demand and plea in her life, she’d like to him see him again maybe.

get entranced. transfixed. enchanted again.

(maybe this what people call burnout? boredom? is this what weber meant when he talked about the bureaucracy and disenchantment with life?)

---

sang in suggests she do charity, philantrophy. some of that corporate csr bullshit she’s not on, but he clearly babbles about day and night.

something about building her image.

as if good deeds now will redeem her and save her now. she’s far too gone to be recovered. it’s the gates of hell for her only.

it’s golden like daylight

and once,

1. spring brings back her love to her. they say love is like the tide of the four seasons, it fades in the cold of winter, but as the warmth of spring blooms in, love returns. 

she’s had a very long winter.

twenty some odd years, and the hazy bright golden sun and the pink cherry blossoms around her in a beautiful lovely spring of romance feels dizzying.

that gust of cold northern winds she’d felt from the boy’s arrival years ago, once again bursts in her chest. oxygen fills her lungs, and perhaps she just hasn’t breathed before as well as she does now. greedy little breaths of cold air, and she doesn’t want to return to that recycled, stuffy air.

they say three times is fate.

once, the first. she sees him in spring, walking up to her. pink petals around them. she drops cigarette ash in his cup.

twice, next. she raises a knife, a hand. he catches it, and it, his grasp, his fist tightens. blood flowing. red, red, red. the pink darkens.

it falls onto her hands, her sinner hands, her tight fists. and the mongolian blue mark stains red. (she’s always marked by violence.)

thrice. it’s fate. she’s almost in love. a little bit more and she’ll be there. heart palpitations, sweaty palms, flushed cheeks, and her aching wet cunt. what is love without lust? she hasn’t felt like this before.

(if the boy was here, she’d think he would be just like moon gang tae. moon gang tae. moon gang tae. even the taste of his name on her mouth tastes heady. she feels light-headed and drunk off just this. would she die at the taste of him then?)

they meet in seongjin city. and she knows it’s her boy. that boy. the boy that remains at the gates of her house and her heart. 

---

later, months later. when she finally kisses him, she can taste the freezing north wind boreas in her mouth.

it’s burning like the heat of the golden sun.

[ghula-herz]

❛ i’m just saying, murder is an option. ❜

Aine O’Hagar starrte die Dunkelhaarige neben sich einen Moment lang irritiert an, dann begann sie aufzulachen.

„Ich weiß, aber das ist jetzt keine Option“, versuchte sie ihre Gedanken nach außen zu bringen, ohne komplett wirr zu wirken. Sie blickte dann auf den zusammengefallenen Körper, der vor ihren beiden Füßen lag. Der Mann sah nicht gut aus. Aber er hatte sich mit Mun-Yeong angelegt und das in der Gegenwart von Aine,… das kam nie gut an. Vielleicht hatte sie ein bisschen zu fest zu geschlagen. Vielleicht war es auch nur ein besonders schwaches Exemplar der Menschheit gewesen, wer wusste das schon? Aber sie tötete nicht grundlos. Auch, wenn man ihr das zuzutrauen wagte. Sie schüchterte ein, sie schlug sie, sie aß… aber töten? Ohne richtigen Grund? Das überließ sie anderen. Und auch wenn Belästigung eine Sache war, die in ihren Augen mehr als unangebracht war, war es noch kein Grund zu töten.

„Wenn wir ihn so hier liegen lassen, wird er zur Presse damit gehen“, kam es von der Dunkelhaarigen an Aines Seite und diese nickte über die Möglichkeit. Die Stimme wirkte emotionslos, obwohl hier vieles auf dem Spiel stand.

Aber sie tötete nicht einfach aus Spaß. Das hatte sie lange hinter sich gelassen. Sie strich sich das lose Haar aus dem Gesicht, band es im Nacken zu einem Dutt.

„Hier bleibt er nicht“, beschloss sie dann und packte den Mann mit ihren Händen. Sie besaß Stärke aufgrund ihres Wesens und warf der anderen trotzdem einen kurzen Blick zu. Als erwartete sie, dass sie mit anpackte. Als das allerdings nicht geschah, machte sie es allein. Es ging auch so. Sie wollte der anderen nur die Möglichkeit lassen, sich hilfsbereit zu fühlen.

Zum Glück herrschte tiefschwarze Nacht. Keiner würde die beiden sehen. Vielleicht half auch Aine mit ihrer Magie ein wenig nach, dass die Schatten sie einschloss. „Ich weiß, wohin wir gehen.“

Es dauerte eine ganze Weile, bis die beiden Frauen an dem abgelegenen Ort ankamen, den Aine in Sinn hatte. Es war ein Friedhof, genauer gesagt eine Gruft, die seit Jahren nicht mehr geöffnet worden war. Erst legte sie den Mann ab, der nach wie vor nicht zur Besinnung gekommen ist und stemmte sich dann gegen die steinerne Tür, um sie mit einem Krächzen zu öffnen. Staub rieselte von der Decke herab und spinnenweben mussten durchtrennt werden. Aine hievte den Mann hinein und ließ ihn unsanft zu Boden sinken, sobald sie drinnen stand.

„Ich kümmere mich um ihn, wenn er wach wird“, murrte sie leise. Babysitter spielen war ihre Spezialität. Auch wenn es meist eher um Vampire ging. Aber wie viel anstrengender konnte ein Mensch schon sein?

„Und wenn er nicht davon abweichen will, dass er mich bei dir gesehen hat?“ Die Stimme der anderen erklang in der schemenhaften Dunkelheit wie ein kalter Regenschauer. Es war nicht verwunderlich, wie sie sich präsentierte.

„Dann ist Mord noch immer eine Option“, schloss Aine den Gedankengang der anderen laut ab.