#just grammarly so

[bubonicc-writing]

The Rebound

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3194

Summary: It's been a long time since Cooper has felt a loving touch. Perhaps a little too long because he's not entirely sure what to do with you.

CW: Semi-slow burn, smut, P in V, creampies, loving on a crispy man who needs it real bad. Prob ooc because this is my first fallout/reader fic ever (sowwy)

Cooper was a hard man to break. Downright standoffish and a straight-up jackass. At least that was what he was like when you first met him. Charismatic, confident, an excellent shot, but god, was he a prick. That, though, you had gotten used to the longer you traveled together. As the months dragged on, that standoffishness started to shed from the Ghoul. 

It started with random small talk picking up between you two as you travel between settlements. For the first few months together, it was mostly silence or business talk traded between you. Who was the next bounty? Where were they last? Can you scavenge while I get intel? It was all just business. That was until one night, Cooper started making small talk between their travels. Then came the soft conversations by the fire when they settled for the night. Every week, the weight of that duster and those guns on his back seemed to lighten the more he talked to you. Then came the offered cantine of water on a scorching day. Already an out-of-the-ordinary gesture from him, more so because your cantine wasn’t empty and he was offering his for a sip.

You took it.

The small talk turned into jokes with hushed laughs between you. As Cooper drawled on, you watched him over the campfire's tip. The light it threw cast beautiful shadows along Cooper's features, and when that crooked ass grin warped his lips more and more, you felt a tinge in the center of your chest. A little candlelight flickering and quivering whenever he spoke in that long drawl. It blazed when his eyes flicked up at you, staring at you in a way that made it seem like he could see right through you. It was like he could see that candle burning just for him.

Now, when the two of you slept, you were no longer on opposite sides of the room. You both started to creep toward each other every night until you were only a few feet apart. Cooper never laid down when he slept. Instead, he leaned against the wall and semi-slouched. He’d tilt his hat downward until the brim hid his eyes. Finally, he would cross his legs and arms before drifting off. You, on the other hand, preferred your bedroll. While not much, it was still better than the barren floor or the questionable mattress they occasionally came across. 

Tonight, a storm was coming through, bringing billowing winds and harsh rain that pounded the roof of the abandoned gas station they had sheltered in. You had tried hours ago to sleep, but the chill from the wind crept between the broken boards and cracked windows. You tossed and turned for what felt like hours, unable to get warm in any position. You flopped over one more time, now facing where Cooper was slouched against a wall a good two feet from you. His brim was cast down, covering his eyes as usual, but from how still he was, you figured he had fallen asleep a while ago.

 Chewing your lip, you hesitated momentarily before scooting towards him and bridging the gap. Snuggling up against his hips and thighs, you sighed contently. He smelled of gunpowder and smoke, typical. Slumber tugged at your eyelids, and you finally drifted off within minutes.

A light sleeper for obvious reasons in this hellhole of a wasteland, Cooper had awoken the second you had touched his leg. He waited for you to settle before opening one eye halfway and staring down his brim at you. Studying your peaceful expression and how you pressed your nose into his thigh. Two rouge strands of your hair had fallen against your cheek, slightly curled at the tips.

A former version of himself would have shoved you away, telling you to git back to your side of the station. Except the current version of himself felt something swirling around in his chest. It was slightly uncomfortable but not all too unfamiliar.

It was a sensation he hadn’t felt for over a hundred years, something that longed for that little touch and craved so much more. It flopped around behind his ribcage, and he grits his teeth in annoyance.

Sighing and looking back down, he shifts gently. Bringing one hand down and outstretching two fingers, he tenderly brushes the hair strands behind your ear. With that, he recrosses his arms and sits back, eyes closing.

As the months continue, so do they, but Cooper is different at night. His expressions are somber, his eyes distant while he sharpens his knives. Deep in thought, sometimes it takes calling his name twice before he looks up at you.

“Coop, are you alright?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowed together in concern. You were annoyed when he smiled and chuckled softly, telling you he was peaches and cream. You didn’t push the matter and didn’t have to because he mentioned his daughter three nights later.

He spoke slowly, hesitantly, wondering if he should even be saying any of this to you in the first place. He wasn’t a vulnerable man, not anymore, anyway. 

He spoke, and you listened, night after night, as more pieces of the puzzle of this mystery man fell together. Under all those clothes and behind all those guns, Cooper was still just a man—an ordinary man.

“You’ll find her Coop,” Reaching over from where you were sitting at his side, you placed your hand on his wrist and gently squeezed it, “I know you will.” 

Cooper didn’t respond, but a smile so tiny it almost went missed curved the corners of his lips.

As you lay in your bedroll that night, you felt something shift against your front. Opening your tired eyes halfway, you watched through blurry vision as Cooper lay down next to you. His back was to you, but you scooted against his spine without a second thought. Resting your cheek between his shoulder blades, you closed your eyes again. 

Eventually, Cooper lay facing you. Without saying anything, he would hook your waist and tug you against his chest. Then, you would feel him resting his chin on your head. The first time he had done it, your face burned so hot you feared you might catch ablaze. If Cooper noticed, he didn’t say. No matter, you didn’t want him to stop, and you were sure he didn’t want you to, either. 

In truth, Cooper would be lying if he ever said he didn’t like the sensation of your small palms against his chest. He loved how you played with the buttons on his dirty shirt until you fell asleep.

Each night, you did the same thing, chest to chest, until finally, one night, you nuzzled your face into the nook of Cooper's neck. Soft and plump lips grazed across his scarred skin before placing a gentle kiss on Cooper’s jawline. 

Immediately, Cooper stiffened against you. You felt his fingers tracing lazy patterns on the small of your back pause. You heard him swallow suddenly, and your stomach sank as you expected him to push you away and scold you. 

Instead, Cooper cleared his throat and nestled his chin harder against the top of your head. 

Days in the wasteland dragged on usually, but the following days felt like an eternity since that night. Bounty after bounty, caps collected, and supplies scavenged, Cooper never once brought it up. Instead, he carried on as usual, which, in truth, made your heartache.

It was possible that even after all of this time, the candle he had ablaze in your chest was not mutually lit. 

What you didn’t know was that Cooper's heart had bounced out of his chest and into his throat that night. He didn’t think it was even possible for his cheeks to flush, but damn, they felt hot. It was alien; over 200 years of feeling the kiss of bullets, he had forgotten what a real one felt like. It was incredible but also terrifying.

 He had loved, and he had lost. 

The nights following the kiss, Cooper waited for you to make a move again, but you didn’t. You slept with your back to him and didn’t move when he pressed against you and draped an arm over your waist. After a few minutes, he felt your fingers intertwine with him in a gentle grip. 

The two of you stayed linked that night.

The following night, Cooper watched as you shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your boots, getting ready to sleep after a long day of tracking a bounty through the unforgiving sun. Reaching up, you released your hair from its loose bun and let your locks fall messily over your shoulders.

You half turned when you felt Cooper grab your hand. Watching him bring it to his lips, he kissed your palm and pressed your hand against his cheek.

The brim of his hat temporarily hid his eyes, but when he looked up at you, your heart fluttered. No words were exchanged as you slowly leaned forward, having to stand on your toes even to come close to his marred lips. Centimeters away, you paused, but Cooper filled the gap.

The first kiss was gentle, and your free hand came up to cup Cooper’s other cheek. When you broke away, it wasn’t for long. Reconnecting, your kisses became hungrier, and your hands on Cooper's cheeks drifted downward. Running over his neck, then his collar and chest. You worked your way down as he kissed you until you palmed at his groin.

“Wait,” Cooper pulled away suddenly, stepping back, “wait…fuck” He turned on his heels, pacing back and forth. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, watching him shake his head and curse to himself. “Coop?”

Once he stopped pacing, he sighed and shook his head before glancing over his shoulder at you.

“I don’t think I have it in me no more, sweetheart.” He laughed softly at himself. 

“What do you mean?” Taking a step towards him, she watched as he finally turned to face her.

“It’s… been a long time. A really long time, sugar.” Too long, really, at least, that is what he thought anyway. Nobody had touched him like this since before the bombs. Nobody had loved him. The only thing he knew now was blood, bullets, and ass jerky.

“Coop,” You said softly, moving towards him and wrapping your arms around his towering frame, “let me take care of you for once.” There was silence before Cooper rested his chin atop your head and laughed. Slowly, his hands came up to rest on your hips, his thumbs dipping under the fabric of your shirt to rub at the soft skin there. 

Looking up, you place a chain of kisses along his jawline. Meanwhile, one of your hands pressed against his back snaked back to his front. There, you worked your way down again until you felt the subtle tent in his pants. You palmed it gently, drawing out soft groans from your Ghoul. He shifted in place, sliding his chin off your head and burying his face between the nook in your neck. His hips lean forward into your touch, and you purr at that.

“That’s it,” you whisper, working the top button until it pops. Next, you slide his zipper down and slide your hand inside. “I’ve got you.”

Upon grabbing his stiffening cock, you feel him tense against you, even sagging a little bit as you start to stroke. Your thumb rubs over his swollen head, spreading the generous amount of precum around. You feel it pulse against your palm, and you can’t help but smile when Copper’s breath stutters against your neck.

“Fuck darling,” He drawls, “You know how to drive a man mad.” Bringing his hands up from your hips, Cooper knots his fingers into the back of your shirt. It doesn’t take long to have him unraveling. You can feel his thighs trembling and his grip tightening the closer he gets to release. Like butter, he is melting and fast.

Each new noise you pull from him causes a feverish heat to swell over your form. Your stomach flips, and you feel your heat clench with desire. As much as you would like to keep your composure, you lean into him, pressing your forehead into his shoulder as you stroke faster and faster. 

The choked growl Cooper lets out is the only warning you get before hot fluid coats your palm and wrist. His hips lurch in your grip twice before he suddenly sags hard against your form. Finger still twisted in your shirt, he finally lets go and lets his arms swing heavily by his sides. His legs are like jelly, and it takes him a moment to stand up semi-straight, his hat slightly crooked. He looks drunk, his eyes glossy, that stupid ass grin you loved smeared across his lips.

“That good, huh?” Stepping back to give him a little breathing room, you pluck the first few buttons of your shirt open. Allowing your shirt to part and fall from your shoulders, your breasts become exposed. With your other hand, you reach down and open the first button of your pants.

“Well then,” You coo, “come on then bounty hunter.” You shimmy your pants and panties off, kicking them off to the side, leaving your form raw to his eyes. “Come and get it.”

There was no need to ask twice. Rushing forward, Cooper grabbed your hips and slammed your forms together. Your lips crashed together again and again, and you whined into his mouth, horribly needy. You didn’t doubt Cooper had seen the slick glistening on your inner thigh.

Pushing you backward, you allowed Cooper to guide you to your bedroll. Once close enough to it, he kicked his foot out, hooked his heel around your leg, and pulled it out from under you. As you fell backward, he fell with you, landing flat on his palms. Towering over you now, eyes ablaze as they drink in your beet red face and beautiful puffy pink breasts. 

“You’ve been wantin' this for a while, haven’t yah?” Lifting one of his hands and pressing it against your soft belly, he drags it down towards your heat. Without warning, he slides his middle and ring finger through your folds, running over your sensitive clit. You gasp, tossing your head back.

“Ngh! Fuck!” Looking up between your bodies, you watch as Cooper drags his fingers up and down over and over, teasing your swelling clit. “Fuck Coop, fuck!”

“Well,” He growls, “Who am I to keep a lady waitin'?” Without warning, his middle and ring finger coast downward and dip deep into your gushing cunt. The squeal that escapes your lips has Cooper chuckling. He presses deep into you, humming as your walls grip his digits. 

Burying himself knuckle deep over and over, a squelching noise is followed by each hand thrust. You lift and twist your hips from the intense waves of pleasure. Only when you feel Cooper withdraw his fingers do you flop down, panting harshly.

Through half-lidded and blurry eyes, you watch Cooper bring his hand between you. He inspects them before spreading his two fingers apart, a tendril of thick fluid connecting them.

“You get this wet for everybody else? Or just little o’l me?”

Turning your head away in embarrassment, you feel Cooper grip your chin and return your gaze to him. 

“Eyes on me.” He growls as he rolls his hips forward, running his stiff cock between your slick folds. The head bumps your clit, and for a moment, you think you see stars. Over and over again, he grinds against you, littering your chest with kisses in the meantime. 

When you finally feel him lean back and press his head against your opening, he hesitates. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper as you place your hand on his cheek and run your thumb over his cheekbone. “I’ve got you.” Sliding both arms around his neck, you gently tug him into your warm embrace. One hand rugs between his shoulder blades while your other rubs the back of his neck.

Allowing himself to lean forward, he nuzzles into the side of your neck before biting the soft flesh. 

Rolling his hips forward, he breaches and slides into you with ease. Gasping and choking out a soft cry, you feel him bury himself to his hilt. Hip connected to hip for a brief moment, he finally drags himself out. Rolling forward, the pase is slow, perhaps even loving, before your Ghoul gets hungry.

It doesn’t take long before your hips are slapping together. You can’t stop the sobs of pleasure that break past your lips with each sharp snap of his hips. Digging your nails into his shoulder blades, you feel your eyes cross when the head of his cock punches that sweet, sweet bundle of nerves.

“Oh fuck, Cooper!” Your back arches off of your bedroll, “F-fuck! I’m… I’m” The hot waves of pleasure radiating from your belly to your groin all the way down your trembling thighs to your toes are winding too tight. “I’m gonna cum!” 

He didn’t slow down and instead angled himself better to strike that little bundle of nerves that had your eyes rolling back. It took two hard hits before he felt your beck snap into a tight arch. He felt your chest bump hard against him, and your hips twisted to the right as your climate ripped you apart.

Head thrown back, mouth wide open, no sound came out of you as your climax held you prisoner.

Above, Cooper's thrusts started to become sloppy, losing their rhythm as your cunt clamped down on him spasmodically. As much as he tried to hold on, it had been too long, and you had felt too good.

Grunting hard into the side of your neck, you felt a warmth bloom in your groin as Cooper spilled everything he had left into you. He slammed your hips together, holding you in place and burying himself as deep as he could, pumping you full. The sensation had goosebumps blooming across your skin as your body finally deflated back down against the bedroll. 

With eyes half-lidded and glossy, you made out the foggy shape of Cooper still hunched over you, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. Every other breath was a soft wheeze. Sweat had beaded on his forehead, and a droplet fell and landed on your chest.

Leaning back and sliding himself from your heat, a thick flood of cum followed. You shivered at the sensation and watched as Cooper lowered himself against your form. Resting his head between your breasts, he inhaled sharply and sighed.

Lovingly, you stroked the back of his neck, enjoying the sensation of his hot breath against your breast.

Together, you lay like that while listening to the rain from a passing storm plink against the tin roof.

When you looked down, Cooper's eyes were closed, and his breathing had finally leveled. Letting your head fall back, you closed your own eyes and smiled.

For once, the wasteland was at peace.

[cluelessbees]

Yknow what ? I think Byler getting Murray’d would be more heartfelt than anything else.

Because like-

Murray doesn’t just call out Jopper and Jancy because it’s obvious. He points it out because he knows they’re being stupid. In their cases, it’s really just them not communicating their feelings to one another and trying to pretend they don’t exist.

But with Byler it’s like…it’s different.

Because it’s not just that is it? We’re not just watching two people pine over one another whilst being oblivious to the fact they other likes them back. We’re not just looking at two people who can’t communicate well. There’s more to it.

Because they’re two boys who have been best friends since childhood. They grew up at the peak of the AIDS epidemic. They live in a small town and they’re expected to act a certain way. It’s different for them.

I don’t think Murray is gonna waltz in acting all holier than thou and essentially out both Mike and Will to one another. He’s a smart man as we’ve seen. He’s attentive. He doesn’t just call jancy and jopper out to prove a point he knows what they both need to hear so they can get over their miscommunication hurdle.

I think he’s going to go up to them. Either both or just Mike or Will or whatever, and he’s going to talk to them about it. Because that’s what they need. They need someone to talk to them about it. And I don’t think he would start with just directly talking about it. I think he (and this is me headcanonning Murray as queer) would open up first. Like about his own experiences- to show them that he gets it, and he knows what it’s like. And then he would casually bring up the whole byler thing.

Hmmm something along the lines of...

Okay– picture a conflict Mike Wheeler sitting by himself – either on the couch or on the floor or whatever. And, he’s stuck in his head. A lot had happened. He broke up with El and he’s struggling to grasp what he’s feeling about his best friend. And there's this…weird tension between them that– he just– he can't put his finger on. But they’re off. They aren’t clicking like they used to and Mike can’t seem to fix things. 

So he sat alone, trying to understand or comprehend whatever he’s feeling whilst everyone else is god knows where in the house. Will was in the kitchen though. Mike knew that much. And then suddenly, he felt a weight on the couch seat next to him or the space on the floor beside him was no longer there and he heard the words of Murray Bauman pull him out of his thoughts with the weirdest fucking ice-breaker he has ever heard.

“Y’know…I was like you when I was younger.” 

“Really?” Mike asked – mostly out of disbelief as he scanned Murray. No way. Not a chance. 

“Oh yeah…” Murray smiled, nodding to himself as he continued. “I know it's hard to believe it, but I was this…brash, stubborn, reactive teen who loved going against authority. I was very...headstrong in my beliefs.” 

He paused and Mike turned to him. Murray had his head down, looking at his lap silently, and Mike didn’t know what to do but watch or…more– listen to the silence. 

“And…I was also in my head a lot.” Murray looked up, turning to Mike once before looking forward again. “I was angry at things – at people and at myself because…no matter how much I pretended like I loved being a freak…a part of me hated that I wasn’t normal…”

Mike felt cold. His heartbeat raced as he turned away from Murray – facing forward and staring at his lap as he continued to listen.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah…I was-- going through a lot of stuff internally that I tried pretending didn’t exist.” He paused again – taking a deep breath. “I was…in love with someone who I didn’t want to be in love with.”

“...You were?” 

“Yeah…” Murray laughed to himself. “Yeah…it was– well he was…my best friend.”

Mike held his breath.

“I fell for him. And I was mad at myself for falling for him. Because even though I knew it wasn’t wrong…I just kept thinking about how I wasn’t supposed to like him. Because that’s not normal– Well ‘normal.’” Murray airquoted, rolling his eyes. Mike’s eyes were glued onto him at this point. 

“So…I grew angrier. And I took it out on myself. On him. Even though he didn’t deserve it. Even though I loved him– I just..I let my fear get the better of me and I pushed him away until I lost him…And I hated myself for doing that.” He breathed, another pause, before finally turning to Mike. “It took me a long time to realise that there was nothing wrong about loving someone.”

Murray tilted his head towards the direction of the kitchen as he raised his eyebrows – and it clicked to Mike.

“I..” Mike’s throat felt dry. “You know?”

“I had a hunch.”

“Is it obvious? Does he–”

“No, he doesn’t know. Your secret's safe with me, kid.”

“Okay– good.” Mike paced his breathing. “I just…I– I can’t lose him because of this. If he knew– if– if he knew he would–”

“He’s your best friend right?” Murray cut him off.

“What? Yes but–”

“Then. he could never hate you, Mike. Not about this.”

“How do you know that?”

“Call it…another one of my hunches.” Mike knitted his brows together.

“Look – kid, I’m not going to force you to tell him or anything. It's your choice at the end of the day. And I can’t say much, but it doesn’t take a genius to know how much that boy cares about you. And you care about him, correct?”

Mike nodded. 

“And you trust him?”

Mike nodded again. “With my life.”

“So…all I can say is…if you trust him? Then...trust him with this.” Murray began to stand up. “Take it from me. Holding it in only hurts the both of you.”

And then Murray leaves

Anyways yeah thoughts––

[honeycollectswhump]

Whumper's title

[masterlist]

It was the end of a lazy evening. Caretaker stretched as the credits of the last movie rolled. Whumpee was draped across her lap and had apparently fallen asleep somewhere during the movie. She wasn’t sure if he even witnessed the climax. Even asleep Whumpee had a soft smile on his lips; he seemed truly at peace. 

It hadn’t always been like that.

A year ago, serenity like this would have been unthinkable. Maybe he would have crawled into her lap if she ordered him to, but he wouldn’t have allowed himself to relax. He wouldn’t have been able to.

A year ago, he still called himself Pet or Mutt. He would beg for punishment, beg to be allowed necessities like sleep or food. But never for mercy because he’d thought he didn’t deserve it. 

A year ago, Whumpee didn’t even remember they lived together for years prior. 

But he did now, and that was all that mattered. God, how she had missed him and the time they spent together. Caretaker wanted to savor it all, savor every little moment she could spend with him.

With a smile playing on her lips, she brushed a stray piece of hair from his scarred face. She didn’t want to wake Whumpee up but she would have to. No matter how much she wanted it, they couldn’t spend the night like this. In the morning, his already aching back would trouble him even more. He was frankly too big for her couch, his feet already dangling over the side. With one hand she was playing with his soft curls, scratching the nape of his neck, and trying to grab the remote with the other – without success.

It had to be done. Caretaker softly whispered his name, tracing his jawline in an attempt to wake him up. He wouldn't budge.

“Whumpee”, the name came out as a soft chuckle. “Whumpee, you need to wake up.”

Again, nothing. 

This time she held him by his shoulders and started shaking him gently. Two bleary brown eyes stared up at her, blinking a couple of times. A sleepy groan escaped his lips as he struggled to sit upright. Somehow Caretaker doubted that Whumpee was truly awake.

She stood up and held her hand out to him. “Let’s get you to bed, big guy.”

Loosely, he took her hands and let himself be pulled up, almost immediately resting his head on top of hers. 

“Yes, Master”, he breathed into her hair. 

Caretaker could feel her blood running cold. She froze, waiting for any indication of what happened, any sign that Whumpee wasn’t feeling well. 

But he didn’t. He didn’t tense up or start shaking. He didn’t fall on his knees or stare at her in adoration and obedience or wait for her order. In fact, he didn’t seem to even realize what he’d said. Instead, he just nuzzled further into her locks, almost falling asleep on his feet. 

Slowly, she took a step backward, his hands still in hers, waiting to see if he’d follow. Whumpee shuffled along, although at a snail’s pace. Caretaker didn’t know whether to bring up what had happened but one look in his half-lidded eyes told her that any attempt at communication would just pass by him. Chances were he wouldn’t even remember how he got to bed in the morning. 

She took him upstairs where –at the sight of his own bed– he staggered forward and flopped down on his messy sheets. Caretaker followed him inside to tuck him in. While she was securing the blanket under his shoulders, Whumpee loosely grabbed one of her hands in his much bigger one and pressed it to his cheek. 

“G’night…”, he murmured into her hand. 

She couldn’t understand what he said after that and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

This is very much inspired by this post by @whumpadventureprompts (i couldn't find how you want to be tagged when people use your prompts so i hope this is alright)

[anotheroceanid]

I personally like to think that demigods have a special spot in their hearts for the Mamma Mia movie

[clowny-rolls]

i asked Grammarly to write me a Spamvil fanfic.

Spamton and Jevil had always been adversaries, constantly battling against each other every time they met. But beneath their rivalry, there was a spark of something more.

It started with small gestures - a compliment here, a helping hand there. Slowly, they began to see each other in a new light. Jevil admired Spamton's confidence and charm, while Spamton was drawn to Jevil's wild and unpredictable nature.

One day, as they were battling once again, Jevil suddenly stopped and looked into Spamton's eyes. "I never realized how much I cared about you," he said. "I've been so focused on defeating you, I never stopped to think about how I feel."

Spamton was taken aback, but he couldn't deny the feelings that were stirring inside him. "I feel the same way, Jevil," he said softly. "I've always admired your spirit and your passion. I never thought I could be so lucky as to have you by my side."

In a moment of pure passion, they leaned in and kissed each other. It was a moment that felt like an eternity, and they never wanted it to end.

From that moment on, they were inseparable. They fought side by side, their love giving them strength and courage. And though they still had their differences, they knew that their love was stronger than any rivalry.

Together, they showed the world that even the most unlikely of pairs can find love and happiness. NOTE FROM THE HUMAN: their battles were just them bickering.

[miss-celestia13]

Grey November…

As the earth beds down

Winter’s bitter hands branch out

Leaves, shivering, falling

Rich in gold and burgundy

Crackling underfoot

Fleeting mosaic colors

Waning with the wax of the moon

The withering of the last summer rose

Petals gilded in rot

Thorns dulled and forgotten

As cold creeps through bodies and dirt

It bites, cheeks colored with blood

Teeth fashioned in ice

Wool and fleece, a feeble armour

Wind laced in frost

Winters savage breath

Clouds leaden and laden

Unleash their gelid burden in silver tears

Unthawed and icebound

As skin freezes over

And winter slips through your bones

The land decays, and you hide inside

Under blankets, and hope for kinder days

Winter is death

Come spring

Winters sacrifice ressurects the first blooms

And we forget

Until winter wakes once more

An ending is an ending

But balmy days soon return

Summer coaxed freckles and honeyed skin

Flowers flush, and the earth renews

Fingers of sunlight undo winter's glacial loss

Brave the seasons

Of nature and life

Slowly, we realize

An ending isn’t always

The End

It’s rebirth

~*~

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

It’s very cold today. I can’t feel my face or toes. I was made for the Bahamas, and sunshine, not this baltic place! Please don’t judge my attempt at playing the poet. I have no grand delusions of my abilities. I just like words, and sharing whatever nonsense pops into my head here, and I have a lot of nonsense to spill 🤭 I simply wanted to make you all aware that I am fucking freezing. I hate it here. I am nothing, if not a dramatic bitch. If it wasn’t already obvious🤣 anyway, thaw me in May when the sun comes back for its two week tour, not a moment before! Thank you 😘❤️

Also, it’s technically still autumn. But Scotland only gets two seasons. Winter, and all of them, except summer, at once every other day of the blasted year.

[je-brille-dans-la-nuit]

Someone give me the strength to proofread my fic and publish it whatever i think of it

[vidawhump]

Tried to make final edits to the Valentine’s story. Drew a thing instead. Have a rough sketch 👍

@whumpy-wyrms three cameos and counting 👁️👁️

[semidecentpoet]

Strangely enough, I still don’t wanna pay for grammarly premium

[maystea]

The something between us we don't talk about,

It's a normal thing for people in love to question what kind of relationships do they have with the people they have romantic feelings for. And so it's normal when they want something more, something bigger than just watching this person afar and talking like friends and nothing more.

And there are two solutions: confess to the person you like, or bottle your feelings and pretend like relationships between you are enough for you... but pretend doesn't mean be, right?

[ Warning ] : spoilers for episodes seven, eight, eleven, twelve, thirteen.

　

The discovery of Doh Young-Choon being switched was something very painful for Ga-On since he was convinced: the system is just and will punish the conman; but when something he had to believe into turned out to be a lie, he was stunned and returned home.

Then, after a few days, Yo-Han suggests going back home, and Ga-On doesn't mind. But what he doesn't like is the reason behind his return: Yo-Han excuses himself with Elijah and her being anxious, so Ga-On lowers his eyes and sighs; however, he still comes back with Yo-Han the same evening and even waves at Elijah with a sincere smile on his face.

In the kitchen, Yo-Han's shining like a star on the Christmas tree, while Ga-On’s mood doesn't change much after he figured out who was the Elijah who missed him; he doesn't say anything, as usual discussing with Yo-Han their plans and thoughts while drinking coffee.

　

Talking about as usual: the ending of episode eight when Ga-On took Yo-Han’s side officially, is another beautiful example of how much the show hides the true motives in emotions instead of saying them out aloud.

Ga-On takes Yo-Han’s side officially, and they’re standing on a bridge both looking at the night version of Seoul; this is when an important conversation takes its beginning: Yo-Han turns back since he was one step ahead, and Ga-On turns his torso to Yo-Han, showing him he’s all ears.

The first phrase is Yo-Han’s “do you regret it?” and Ga-On’s answer of lowering his eyes; and since Yo-Han got to know some Ga-On’s expressions and their meaning by spending countless some time with him, he nods and starts listing advantages of being on his side. Ga-On lifts his eyes at “I’ll promise you one thing,” but pretty soon lowers them again, after not hearing what only he knows he expected in his head.

So while Yo-Han lights up the whole Seoul with his contentment of Ga-On taking his side officially, Ga-On tries to quickly make another reason for him helping Yo-Han. And finds it: fighting with the wrong world; and when Yo-Han accepts it, proudly lifting his head with a satisfied look in his eyes, Ga-On turns back to him for the first time after a while.

And even though officially their agreement was based only on revenge and will to change the wrong world, the first clause of their partnership was them becoming a family; so no wonder they started to act like a married couple — because they were, even though it’s written with invisible ink.

What we else don't see is Ga-On’s reaction to Yo-Han inviting Sun-Ah to their his house in episode eleven. We just see him cooking a whole banquet dinner for a guest and him being ready to interrupt and stop every small hint of flirting between Yo-Han and Sun-Ah.

But when Sun-Ah comments on him blending into this family perfectly, Ga-On starts to literally shine: he widely and sincerely smiles, being all proud and pleased with the fact of him looking like he always was there; but the moment Sun-Ah says she's envious of Yo-Han for being not alone anymore, Ga-On raises his eyes at Yo-Han with a clear sadness in his gaze. His mood drops, and the one moment he smiles after this little talk is when Ms. Ji appears in the kitchen.

Maybe it's when Ga-On understood that being colleagues and taking down the higher-ups together is good and all, but it's not what he wants. Not when it comes to Yo-Han.

Because in the same episode, just a bit later we hear Ga-On's "once this is over, I'll definitely..." when he is with Soo-Hyun in a famous restaurant. He's in a good mood, smiles, and jokes a lot that even Soo-Hyun notices the changes that happened in her friend; and maybe it's the moment Ga-On started to think about his confession to Yo-Han since he already knows when he'll tell him how he feels.

Because Yo-Han’s plans are pretty clearly shown in episode ten, in the scene of Yo-Han building a house of cards right after they caught Doh Young-Choon: he doesn't know how many floors the building will have, but what he’s more interested in is bringing the whole thing down; Ga-On lowers his eyes, thinking about something only he knows.

And when Yo-Han acts as if he’s about to put the house down, Ga-On shudders; Yo-Han says that Ga-On thought he would destroy the whole thing, Ga-On just smiles, proving his assumptions.

Note: even though the original scene didn't look like this, the original script still has Yo-Han saying “(to me) it’d more fun to bring the building down.” So we can assume that even in the original script, Yo-Han still wanted to destroy the house of cards in one movement instead of taking avenge on his enemies slowly.

But Cha Kyung-Hee shoots herself at the end of episode eleven, and the plan starts to fall apart since it lost the main key; then, everything related to Ga-On's sanity falls apart as well. For the first time since episode eight, Ga-On drinks soju. Like he did before he officially took Yo-Han's side and threw all the years of Professor's lectionaries; now he sits all alone, drinking a few bottles and being aggressive towards annoying fans of the show.

Ga-On calmed himself down: he'll wait until Yo-Han finishes his avenge. He'll talk about his feelings after this all will be over; but now, the situation is blurred and unclear, so he attempts to talk about them now, provoking and asking in what kind of monster he turns into. But Yo-Han talks only about their destroyed plans, so Ga-On’s gaze fades, even though a minute ago it was full of hope.

So the second Yo-Han starts to say that Ga-On had to cut Soo-Hyun out of his life to save the world, the decision is already made. But when Soo-Hyun starts to say that she doesn't care about what is right and what is wrong; when she talks about how she only needs him, he hears the words he wanted to hear from Yo-Han a few days ago.

The outcome we see in Soo-Hyun's case is Ga-On kissing her and her being shocked by his actions and not responding to it in any way; the outcome in Yo-Han's case is Ga-On taking away Yo-Han's hand from his shoulder and claiming that Soo-Hyun is his world, leaving pretty soon afterward.

— As in addition : the confession scene in episode thirteen... the whole speech was made for Yo-Han from the very beginning. He might have changed some parts of it to match their relationships with Soo-Hyun but the most important parts and words were all meant for Yo-Han.

First, the way how his expression when he says he wants to like her forever and that he was scared he would ruin everything is so similar to the one he had in episode ten when he was defending Yo-Han. The same smile, the same warmth in the eyes which quickly vanishes the moment he talks about their friendship in particular and him not wanting to be alone.

Second... as it was noted in @b612sunsets's gifset, the confession pretty well describes their relationships with Yo-Han, fitting in perfectly.

[falllpoutboy]

students using ch4tgpt to write essays and do their homework for them is a problem that goes hand in hand with the declining literacy rate btw

[bereft-of-frogs]

WHO DOUBTED ME? WHO DOUBTED ME???

Ok yes I skipped a bit (middle grade, a couple of the audio dramas, the comics) but I finished all the adult and YA books in like 3 weeks so I feel accomplished.

Defy the Storm was oddly uplifting. Ooh that last scene with Vernestra and Elzar…

And the epilogue. Azlin has reached ‘fucking Azlin’ status both for taking the scenic route to report Kevmo and Zallah’s murders after Path of Deceit and now being spooky and mean to my BOY REATH. Fucking Azlin.

[singer-smiles-101]

Aight y’all so here’s the deal. Saw a lot of people in the fandom were drawing the lovely @tulipsempai’s Iris, went, “ooh that looks fun I wanna try,” and got so into designing the outfit that I had to develop a whole concept behind it. The concept? Underwater themed masquerade. (because imposter = disguises = masquerade)

[dark-side-blog3]

I'm a crass bastard, but I try to be kind. I hope my bitching and cussing doesn't make anyone think I don't like them on a personal level.

[im-sorry-what-ii]

ITS FINISHED!!! i've never posted anything before, so i really hope this is at least decent

[fingertipsmp3]

Why did I get paranoid about how no one has checked the work I submitted yet. It’s literally Sunday