#this shit sounds like it came straight out of twilight or something

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

I'm sorry was anyone gonna tell me Anne wrote this fucking YA novel ass shit about Sasha on Marcy's fucking journal or was I supposed to find out by myself

[kimi240302]

Losing Game

A/N: Before you read this story, be aware I am from Germany and can't write a bit of English. That's why I'm sending this through an app that translates it for me.

A/N2.0: In this story, the characters are all a little older.

A/N3.0: After this part will come the epilogue, so please stay strong. Hopefully it will be worth it! Also, I have to thank you for all the notifications, as well as the great comments.  

Summary: Y/N Swan tries everything to keep her promise to stay away from Demetri Volturi. But can you stay away from the man fate bound you to?

Demetri Volturi x Female!Swan!reader

Part 3 of Daylight Masterlist 

Words: 2,6k

Main Post / Twilight Masterlist / Request list / Playlist 

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There's darkness in the distance From the way that I've been livin' But I know I can't resist it

- David Kushner 

"I still don't really understand why we're going to Volterra. It's just a small town in Tuscany. Why not go to France or......" "Mallorca!" Grinning, Y/N shook her head, knowing full well that Mick and Mara would start arguing again, as they had so often lately.

Tired, the young girl let herself sink more into the airplane seat, turning her head away from an annoyed groaning Mara, who mumbled to herself in a low voice, " I knew that shit would come from you." Mick, who had heard this, sat up straight in his seat, put his hands on Mara's seat, pulled himself up and slapped her, very gently, on the back of the head. Upset, the young girl turned around. "Are you out of your mind!" Mick rolled his eyes. "Don't be a drama queen. That was nothing more than a gentle pat, to the back of your head." Mara narrowed her eyes and slapped Mick against his forehead. Taken aback, the latter fell back in his seat. "Children, please. There are other people on this flight and our teacher is looking too!" Y/N looked at her two friends, amused. "He started it!" grumbled Mara. "You insulted me first!" "When are you two going to admit you're into each other, anyway?" The young Swan raised one of her eyebrows and looked back and forth between Mick and Mara in turn.

The two people in question first looked at each other, blushed, and then were looking anywhere but in each other's direction. Mara crossed her arms in front of her chest and scowled, turning her gaze to Y/N. "I don't take comments from someone who can't control their own love life." Still grinning to herself, Y/N watched as Mara put on her headphones and closed her eyes. After glancing back at Mick, she saw him looking out the plane window, lost in thought, and knew this school trip was going to be interesting.

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Lost in thought, Y/N turned her head to the window, where she looked at the clouds while putting on her headphones. Immediately, the young girl relaxed as the sounds of her favorite song poured from them. But even her music did not help to displace the lingering sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Her class teacher had heard that the somewhat smaller city of Volterra, in Italy, was one of the best cities when it came to art. Because no matter where you wandered or looked, the small town had its own story to tell, and it was in the form of art. So it was a done deal for her art fanatic of a teacher that her graduation trip would be to Volterra.

Y/N had to admit that what she had seen of the city, which was not much thanks to Bella, she really liked. But she didn't want to go where Demetri was and so the young girl hoped to get through her class trip in peace without any incidents and preferably without meeting any of the Volturi. Since her teacher hadn't gotten any more tickets for the castle tour, which was partly Y/N's fault, she could even play with that thought very hopefully.

But if Y/N was honest with herself, something deep inside her hoped to see Demetri again. Since their night together, the young girl had noticed him several times in the distance. However, each time the vampire had disappeared again just before she reached him. So Y/N could not even be one hundred percent sure whether Demetri had really been standing there or it had just been a fantasy of her mind.

Another thought that had come to her while thinking longer told her Demetri wanted to prove something to her in this form. The vampire wanted to show the young girl how much she missed him, how much she needed his closeness and his touch, and Y/N couldn't deny it. She missed him, more than she had ever thought possible and if Y/N could, she would tell him that he had won, that he could stop. But she was too stubborn to cave in and too loyal to break the last of her promise to Bella. Even though it was long gone, Y/N clung to the fact that Demetri was the one who always came to her, not she to him. Which, if you said it out loud, was complete bullshit, which is why Y/N never said it out loud.

Lost in thought, Y/N let her fingers run over the various books on the shelf in front of her. The young girl had been in Volterra for a day and had decided to isolate herself from the others. She couldn't explain it, but with each step she took on the streets of Volterra, an invisible sling seemed to tighten more and more around her neck. It felt wrong to be here and not to go to the castle and tell Demetri that she was in the same town as he was, right within his reach. The young girl had to literally force herself not to go up the stairs of the castle and run straight into the vampire's arms.

The only solution Y/N saw was to distract herself. She had hidden herself in a small library on the outskirts of the city to search through the shelves. Because in times when Y/N didn't know what to do, when reality became too serious for her and the problems too complicated, she found support and protection in the realities that her books created.

Smiling, Y/N stopped at an decorated spine, grabbed it, and pulled out the book. The light blue color of the book was faded and starting to fade in some places. Gently, Y/N's fingers slid over the cover of the book, looking fascinated at the black embroidery of rose vines. Carefully opening it, she skipped a few pages and began to read the prologue's ornate Italian script, which still shone in contrast to the yellowed page.

"I keep learning new things about you, la mia bella."  Startled, Y/N winced, dropping the book as she did so. "Demetri..." Breathed the young girl after she turned around. Smiling, the vampire looked at her, bent down and picked up the book from the floor. "Libraries, I have a feeling this is a scene we should both be familiar with."  He held the book out to Y/N, which she only looked at for a moment without taking it.

"What are you doing here?" Y/N asked in a trembling voice, immediately regretting her question. After all, Demetri lived in the city where she was a stranger, an intruder. Raising an eyebrow, he looked at her with amusement. "I live in this city. Probably the better question is, what are you doing here in Volterra and did you mean to tell me you were here?" She opened her mouth to answer him. But no sentence came out, so she closed it again.

"Y/N?" Demetri lowered the book and took a step toward her. Y/N raised both hands and shook her head, taking several steps backwards. "I have to... my class is probably looking for me already." With that, she turned on her heels and fled the small place.

However, Y/N did not get far. Demetri, who had stood rooted to the spot in the store for a moment, had caught himself again, overtook her and pushed her into a hidden alley, where he pressed her against the wall. His eyes were almost shining and his anger was written all over his face, making Y/N sink slightly into herself, as far as Demetri's firm grip on both of her shoulders would allow.

"When are you going to stop running away from me! When will you stop trying to hide what we both know you feel the same way I do!" Frightened, the young girl winced and whimpered. "Demetri..." Angrily, he applied a little more pressure to her arms, which Y/N answered with a face contorted in pain. "You're hurting me and scaring me." Her voice barely noticeable and if Demetri wasn't a vampire, he wouldn't have heard her. Disappointed in himself, he let go of her, almost as if he had burned himself on her skin. Demetri backed away a few steps as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration, cursing softly in ancient Greek.

The vampire turned to his mate, just dropped his hands from his hair to his sides and looked at her sadly. He felt powerless and defeated for the first time in his immortal life. "I just..." his voice broke off as he searched for the right words. "I just want to know if I should give up Y/N. I just want to know if I should let you go." Briefly, he looked at the ground, took an unnecessary breath that helped him get his nerves under control, and took the retreating steps forward again. Y/N stood, unable to move, still leaning against the wall. She had tears in her eyes that threatened to stream down her face any second.

Y/N had only ever thought about how she was feeling in this situation and never what Demetri was going through with this whole thing. Seeing him like this now and knowing that it was her fault broke her heart.

Carefully Demetri embraced the face of the woman he loves and automatically put his forehead against hers. "Tell me, is it worth continuing to fight or should I release you and disappear from your life?" Y/N clasped both of Demetri's wrists with her hands to find support. Her tears flowed, as silent cries of despair down her cheeks.

"I promised my sister." Her grip on both wrists tightened as her voice trembled more and more.

"What exactly Y/N. Not to be free? Not being able to make your own decisions, not being able to love, not being able to be happy? She's denying you what she has with Edward because it would be with me. Because it is me who is the villain from her point of view and she knows that you are loyal to her, which means you would never break your promise, no matter how unhappy that makes you. That's the power your sister has over you."

Demetri released his forehead from hers and looked into her eyes again. Gently, his fingers began to brush the tears from Y/N's cheeks. "The Volturi could be so much to you Y/N. Your friends, your allies, your supports, or even your family." He paused, making Y/N look closely into his eyes so she understood how much truth there was in his words. "I could be so much more. Your confidant, your lover, your husband, your forever. You just have to let it happen, you have to let your love for me happen." Y/N's tears grew more. "What if that's what scares me." "Everyone is afraid of what they don't know. Y/N you don't know what it feels like to be loved or what it's like to exist outside of your sister's shadow because you've lived in just that for too long."

Y/N broke eye contact with Demetri, loosened her hands and lowered her gaze. She didn't know what to say, she was confused and conflicted with her inner self at the same time. If she left with Demetri now, she would never see her family in Forks again. If she chose Bella again, she might lose Demetri forever.

For Demetri, however, her silence and distant behavior, was answer enough. In despair, the vampire closed his eyes and looked away. As he did so, he too removed his hands from her face. Y/N's gaze went up as she felt a breeze.

Demetri was gone.

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For a few moments, Y/N stared silently at the spot where Demetri had just been standing. Her tears began to become threefold as her mind understood what had just happened. The young girl dropped her face into her hands and could no longer avoid her bitter sobs. As she tried to get her breathing under control, her legs gave out from under her. Slowly, Y/N slid down the wall behind her. Once on the ground, she pulled her legs to her chest to regain some balance, but the tears only increased. The young girl became aware that she had lost the man who meant more to her than anything else.

She was aware that she had no one to blame but herself. Demetri had given her more than one chance to go with him, to be with him, and yet her loyalty to her sister, to whom she really meant nothing, had destroyed everything.

The young girl didn't know how long she had been leaning against the wall crying, but when she arrived in her room she knew it must have been a very long time. Mara and Mick were both sitting in the room the two friends shared, taking turns trying to reach Y/N on her cell phone. When they saw their friend, they both jumped up from their seats and approached her.

"Where were you Y/N?!" Mick placed both hands on her shoulders, forcing Y/N to look up at him. "We were worried about you you can't..." Mara who was standing behind Mick and was about to scold her best friend, dropped silent.

Y/N wrapped her arms around Mick's middle and began to cry again bitterly. "I lost him." She cried into her friend's chest. Startled, he hugged her back tightly and glanced over at Mara. The latter looked as startled as he was and pointed to the bed. Mick nodded, unfastening his and Y/N's arms to lift her up and lay her in the bed. There she immediately buried her face in the pillow while her hands clawed into the covers. Mara laid down on Y/N's right and pulled her into the middle, which Mick saw as an invitation to lie down on Y/N's left.

They both looked at each other and silently made the agreement to ask tomorrow what had happened and what exactly Y/N meant. Now they both just took her in their arms, turned out the lights and were silently there for their best friend.

With an aching head, Y/N was the first of the three friends to wake up in the early morning hours. Carefully, Y/N released herself from the arms of her friends and stood up. Smiling, she watched as Mick automatically reached for Mara and pulled her close. Which she returned with a hug and burying her face against his chest.

Quietly, the young girl tiptoed to the balcony door, which she carefully opened to step out into the fresh air. Outside, she sat down in the armchair that was identical to those on every other balcony in the hotel. With her eyes closed, she stretched her face toward the rising sun and breathed in the fresh air.

Y/N opened her eyes, however, startled when a shadow and a breeze flashed past her. Confused, she stood up and walked to the railing of the balcony, only to feel the breeze behind her again. Immediately she wheeled around and faltered. With hesitant steps she walked towards the table next to the armchair where she had been sitting a moment ago and grabbed the book where she was sure this had not been lying there a moment ago.

With a sigh, Y/N settled back into the chair as she recognized the light blue cover, with the rose vines embroidered on it. However, this one was not faded and still well intact. Y/N opened the book cover and faltered. With trembling hands, she took the note that had been placed there and read through it.

"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all"

Confused, Y/N looked back at the book and closed her eyes sadly, for she had the uneasy feeling she was holding her goodbye gift in that moment.

This book is the property of Demetri Volturi, it was written in ink.

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@twilightlover2007 @ssnapsaurus @xxx-wounded-angel-xxx 

@ms-sasa @elissanatok @helen06dreamer @animequeen454​

@svtbpbts

[cheshire-castle-library]

The op who made that "wahh why isn't fandom fun anymore" post LITERALLY maintags their hate lol, they've done it for ATLA characters and ATSV characters among others. It's so embarrassing.

See this is why I don't participate in many fandoms.

Honestly, everyone is a little blind about themselves once in a while. And you and I are no exception. I'm not in the business of checking into every op on every post on this website. I have like,,, a job and shit. I don't have time for that.

OP can be right and still mess up. OP might just have unpopular opinions that you don't like, and are assuming malice where there isn't any. I don't know, and I'm not here to put that OP on the coroner's table. All I can do is reply to you.

People are allowed to have opinions. People are allowed to share their opinions in fandom space (which is the main tag, I can send you scientific papers that explain this). People are allowed to have unpopular opinions, Publicly, and SHARE THEM. What they are not supposed to do, is lord those opinions over others and use them to hurt people.

What I was agreeing with when I peer reviewed those tags was when people vent into main tags, or frankly this kind of thing? Like, when people can't stay in their lane and have to make a "judgement call" on other people? Or when people are just straight up resentful of a character or fandom, and so they like spit vinegar at everyone over it? I don't know anything about the person you are talking about, and I don't plan to look for it, but unless they're literally pointing fingers and calling people evil for liking 'unlikable' characters, I doubt it's as serious as you're concerned it is.

Like for example, I don't like Twilight. I don't personally find it interesting. I've never read it, but my friends were really into it when it came out, and what I heard of it didn't like... sound fun to me at all. There was a while in my life when I was a little bitch about that, and I'd like make fun of Twilight and I didn't think about how that might upset my friends, and it absolutely never crossed my mind to try and read it and like idk trust my friends to have good taste?

So I try to be better now that I look back on that and see how much of a tool I was. Twilight has stuff in it that's unique. It has stuff in it that's silly and melodramatic too, but its pulp and it explores some interesting themes of romance and "otherness" and age and mental health and stuff like that. So I understand that it appeals to people and it has value, regardless of whether I personally find or make use of that value.

But if I were on tumblr in 8th grade when it came out, I 100% would have been maintagging Twilight hate memes, because I was just kinda tonedef and dumb. That's being a kid. But being a kid doesn't excuse the hurt it causes.

And that is what I think people need to be careful about. Not making fun of things they don't like. Not hurting people for no damn reason, when it would be healthier for everyone to just not interact in the first place.

So also like... this anon message you sent counts as that same thing. Sending an anonymous message (so there's no accountability for what you say) to someone over the character of a third party is not a responsible way to act, and innately causes drama and stress. The OP has nothing to do with me. I have nothing to do with them. I literally don't even know their URL, and I don't plan to go looking for it. Because I know how to stay in my lane and not go looking for drama. That's an important part of adulthood, is choosing your battles. Choosing what to spend your energy on, and not looking to cause problems for yourself and others where it's not absolutely necessary.

For instance, I'm choosing to reply to this, because I think there's something important I can share about my long years in fandom with not just you, but the rest of Tumblr as a whole. I also can take this time to clarify something that obviously wasn't as intuitive as I assumed it was.

Anon, I don't know why you sent this. I don't know whether your intent was out of innocence, whether you were cross with me for some reason, or some secret third thing that I can't fathom. But if you'd like to talk about it more, my dm's are open to everyone. I won't keep replying to anon's, because that's just going to gum up my followers and friends' dashboards; but I'd be more than happy to have a one on one conversation about what you are concerned about, and your fandom experiences, and mine and how fandom has changed over the years.

This type of message isn't very effective at communicating problems.

The best possible outcome of the message you sent me is me not taking it personally as an attack or judgement, and either replying like I am here with civil and clear communication, or me just deleting it and going on with my day. Which, isn't much of a positive impact. The worst possible outcome is you hurt me badly, trigger past traumas, scare me or cow me from ever voicing my opinion again, and cause me to cut myself out of fandom again. Which has happened to me, and enough that I only interact with precious few fandoms as it stands - something you should already know since I mentioned it in the tags of the post we're talking about.

So again, please DM me if you want to talk about this or have other concerns you need help working through. But hiding behind anon and not fully explaining yourself doesn't give me a lot to go on. I just don't know what your intent is, and I'm not going to bend myself into funny shapes trying to guess.

In all honesty, the words you wrote kind of feel like you want me to feel embarrassed about OP or about agreeing with OP or about something I did? And if not, you are asking me to agree to throw a stranger that I don't know and have no interactions with under the bus to validate your opinion.

This sort of thing is why its hard to exist in fandom spaces. This is "big brother" behavior, and turns fandom into a police state. Pointing fingers only makes people retaliate, it doesn't help fandom heal or grow.

That is what people need to stop themselves from doing.

[dani-meme]

Indecision (Part 7 of 7)

This is part 7 of 7. You can find part 1 here.

The group was outside again, and though the twilight air was cool, it did little to clear Abigail's mind.

Astrophel had been talking with the Empress for at least an hour, though Abigail could remember nothing of what they said. The whole experience was surreal. It didn't feel like she had just met the actual, genuine Empress of Leona. She was exhausted. She wanted to go home.

Home. Abigail looked up at the sky, and saw the sun had sunk below the horizon. She was late. Shit.

Abigail's heartbeat rose. The other four stood in a circle, discussing something. Abigail tried to pull Belle aside.

"I- I- I, um. I need to go."

"What? Why?" Belle asked, but Abigail was gone.

She was already racing towards the main square, her mind boiling over. She was late, and now her parents would have to stay behind and wait for her. They'd be waiting in the square while the rest of the Caravan moved on, and it was all her fault. She should've left earlier. She should've done what she was told in the first place. She should never have investigated that damned sound. She... She...

She wasn't thinking straight. Her mind was a blur of thoughts and feelings. Her blood pounded in her head, and she could barely breathe. She was panicking. She wanted to get out. Away. She wanted to run. She was scared and nauseous and wanted to go home, and so she had run away from Belle without a goodbye.

She was bumping into various people who were out late, muttering a quiet 'sorry' or 'excuse me'. She weaved between streets and alleys, partly trying to take the fastest path to the main square, partly trying to make sure Belle couldn't follow her. In that moment, Abigail didn't want to have to face her again. Everything was too much.

Eventually, the city opened up around her, and she made it to the main square. She stopped suddenly, silhouetted against the sky.

A panting figure came running up alongside her.

"Abigail, are you alr-" Belle began, before seeing Abigail's face. "Abigail..."

A cold breeze swept past the both of them. Abigail was hyperventilating.

"Abigail, what happened?"

Abigail was silent. Belle followed her gaze to the square. A couple seconds later, realisation dawned on her.

The square was empty.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

Eddie's chest heaves as he sprints farther into the woods.

He's got some sense of where he's going, Hopper and Callahan got him in cuffs on Cornwallis which should be a clear cut through the forest past Loch Nora and to the park, but it's even darker here. The fading twilight blocked out by the cover of trees.

Still, he took off into the woods on the west side of the street so as long as he keeps going straight, he'll be fine.

Joke's on him though, nothing about him has been straight since before he came to live with Wayne (since he was born if what his science teacher Mr. Clarke once told him is to be believed), so it's no fuckin' wonder that he's gotten off course.

He dismisses it at first, the gradual incline he's following at more of a jog than a sprint now, but when he hears sirens go off way too close and he finds himself crashing into a meticuously trimmed backyard, it makes sense.

What doesn't make sense is why of all the gallivanting through the woods he'd just done, over and under fallen logs, rocks, through bushes and thickets, that his feet betray him on the half inch concrete lip of patio he hadn't yet slowed himself enough to avoid alltogether.

The toe of his sneaker clips the very corner, his feet try to right themselves, but he's already hurtling toward this person's inground pool.

In the split second he's falling, Eddie's brain does three things almost simultaneously: 1) realizes that whoever's house this is, there's only one light on. an upstairs window that must be a bedroom. Good. Maybe then he can pick himself up after this what-would-have-been super embarassing fall and get the fuck back out of their yard without them noticing.

2) It has enough sense to turn his body to the left to take the fall onto the concrete on his shoulder instead of his face, though it means he'll definitely be rolling into the pool now. Damn.

And 3) a simple thought of 'Aw, fuck.'

What his brain didn't account for was the edge of the pool. And that it should have considered its boney housing's downward momentum in the fall.

His temple collides with the edge where plastic meets stone, and Eddie Munson, freshly concussed and all but dead to the world, falls into the water.

---

The night Steve Harrington officially meets Eddie Munson is like every other.

At home, alone, waiting for it to be a reasonable time to go to bed.

He’s leaning his desk chair back on two legs, his feet propped up on his mattress, flipping through the new June '85 edition of Vogue that came in the mail that day addressed to Linda Harrington.

Halfway through reading about Eric Stoltz in that new movie Mask (and seriously debating guilting his parents into sending him one of these watches for a late graduation gift because shit that's a nice watch), he hears a splash from outside his window.

The sound makes him jump from how unexpected it is, and he would've for sure tumbled ass backwards off his chair if the wall hadn't been behind him.

He jumps up and yanks open his blinds to look out at the pool below.

There are fresh ripples weaving across the normally still top, and a shadow of something bubbling up from the bottom.

His guts twist up immediately; of course, it could be just some stupid deer, but it could also be any number of insane hell creatures, one of which had once used his pool as it's front door before.

"Shitshitshitshit," Steve snatches up his bat from under the bed and launches himself out his room and down the stairs in record time.

By the time he gets to the edge of the pool, the ripples have dispersed significantly, and the..whatever it is.. at the bottom is releasing bubbles slower than ever.

It takes about a second more for him to parse out the very obviously human shape crumpled under the water and--is that blood?

Steve dives into the water directly across from the bright red smear on the plastic lining.

His eyes burn with the chemicals, all he makes out of the person is a pale face and dark hair.

He hooks an arm under theirs and across their chest, and pushes up from the bottom.

Steve finds a foothold in the shallows and powers over to the stairs as fast as he can, pulling the limp man up onto the concrete.

He gets to work on them immediately, checking for a pulse, checking for breath..nothing.

"Fuck Fuck Fuck!" Steve starts compressions on his chest, counting in his head before sucking in a deep breath, pinching the guy’s nose shut, and sealing his mouth onto the blue lips below him.

Nothing.

"C'mon Munson," Steve starts counting compressions again. "Don't do this to me, man." It surprises him that this is when his brain pairs the pale features and dark denim to Hawkins' Super-Senior, but it's him alright. The vest is a giveaway, though he definitely looks like a completely different person without his bangs hanging over his forehead, or that dumbass grin he has when he's going on some tirade at lunch.

Steve closes his lips over Eddie's once again and this time, it works.

Eddie pitches forward, spewing chunky water all over the ground in front of him.

Steve supports his back as he does, "Shit, man, let it out, let it out." He looks down then, finally realizing Eddie's arms have been completely incapacitated by a pair of cuffs this whole time.

His breaths are ragged, gagging while he takes in shaky breaths.

He continues to pat Eddie's back, smacking his palm over some demon-looking thing on the back panel of his vest.

"Breathe, Eddie, you got it." The older boy's dazed gaze turns to him then, "You back with me?"

"Harrington?" it comes out a wheeze.

“Hey Munson, you okay?”

Eddie looks around at Steve’s yard, to the pool, “Yeah I—Yeah..” he looks back at Steve, “What happened?”

“You fell into my pool, dude.” he chuckles, “I pulled you out and you weren’t breathing.”

“…huh.”

That pulls another snort out of him “Yeah, ‘Huh.’.”

Eddie looks off into the woods, then back to his face. “And what happened before that?”

Steve pulls lightly on the cuffs. “I was hoping you could tell me that.”

thinking about eddie getting arrested one night by Hopper and officer whats-his-face and when they turn their backs on him for a second he fucking bolts.

hands cuffed behind his back he books it down the street and they're both chasing him, and it plays out like the scene from super bad, neither of them can catch him cuz he's wicked fast and they just end up panting in the middle of the road as he jangles his way into the distance, Hopper with his hands on his knees, gasping for breathe like "he's a freak. He's the fastest kid alive."

[gintrinsic-writing]

Halloween prompt (if it'sstill open): everyone trying to come up with the scariest costumes they can using only the equipment they have on hand (featuring Legend as a painting, Wild with a depowered Majora's mask that freaks out Time, and/or Four and Shadow tag-teaming something)

Latte, this idea ran away with me a little!!

--

Time settled back with a chuckle and put the All-Night Mask away. “Amateurs,” he teased. 

Legend smirked despite the fact that he was conveniently several inches further away from Time than he had been moments ago. “Okay, fine. You’re in the lead on account of your quests being fuckin’ weirder than ours.”

“Now hold on a minute,” Wind started, grinning widely. The spark in his eyes meant nothing good. “I’ve got a neat little trick that’ll outspook any of you brave enough to accept.” He reached into his bag and pulled out the Wind Waker, then looked around at the group. “Well? Any takers? Wars?”

“Your evil smile does not inspire trust,” Warriors answered dryly. “I’ll pass.”

Wind snorted. “Come on, someone. Who here isn’t complete cucco shit?”

Four raised his hand to several dramatic “ooh”s. “I’m game,” he said, leaning forward where he sat cross-legged. “What do I have to do?”

“Just sit there,” Wind said, sticking out his tongue as he began to conduct a song. An unnatural wind tore through camp, carrying with it ominous musical notes. Suddenly, Four’s eyes widened, and he sat up straight, body rigid. Wind smirked. 

“I don’t get it,” Twilight said, tilting his head. "How is this spooky?”

When Four didn’t answer, the other heroes visibly grew suspicious. Wind laughed a little, then raised the baton. Immediately, Four stood upright, stiff as a board. He was expressionless—a doll waiting to be controlled. Wind twitched the baton again, and Four turned on his heel. 

Wild whistled. Can he not break out of it? he signed. 

“Nope!” Wind said, forcing Four to turn around again. “That’s why it’s frightening for the person involved.”

Hyrule grimaced, studying Four’s too-blank features. “This is… I mean, I get why it could be useful, but it gives me the heebs. What if he’s scared? What if he wants you to stop?”

Wind pursed his lips to one side, then shrugged. “I have no way of knowing. It’s not like I plan to do anything bad with it. Anyway, I think I made my point, so I’ll—” He broke off with a yelp when Four suddenly turned his head, staring Wind straight in the eyes. “How? How’re you doing that?”

Four didn’t answer. He didn’t seem to react at all. A second later, Four’s shadow peeled itself away. It stood separately, nearly a mirror image to Four, yet it smiled. Its teeth gleamed in the firelight. 

“Fuck! Release, release!” Wind yelped, watching as Four abruptly shuddered and resumed control of his body. The shadow’s smile grew wider before it appeared to fade back into Four. 

“Oof, that was… not great,” Four muttered, rubbing his forehead. “You had complete control of me.” When the others stared at him with various expressions of shock and horror, he blinked. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Your shadow!” Wind yelled. “What the—Why did—That’s never happened before!”

“What never happened before?” Four asked. “I could only see what was directly in front of me.”

Wind’s mouth worked, but no sound came out. 

“I think,” Time began quietly, “there might be more to that melody that you realize, Wind. Perhaps you should be careful about using it in the future.”

“That wasn’t the Command Melody! That was… I don’t know what that was. It looked like a possession!”

“Even so,” Twilight began, “maybe you…”

As the others began trying to figure out the possible features of an ancient song from Wind’s era, Four did his best to hide his smile. I think I won that round, he thought. Shadow, spread across the forest floor behind Four, grinned in reply. 

[onecanonlife]

Tommy and Wilbur fell apart a long time ago, and there was never any time to mourn the pieces of what they were.

But here's the most important thing: Tommy doesn't give up on the people he cares about.

(Or: on grieving, graves, a past that refuses to let go, and learning to look forward at long last.)

(word count: 5,619)

--------------------

“You know,” Tommy says, “I never really got to—to mourn you. Not properly, anyway.”

He’s not sure what response he’s expecting from Wilbur. He’s not sure why he’s saying anything at all. He’s not sure why he’s here.

That last one is a lie. He scuffs the ground with his shoe, and then pretends that he didn’t.

“I wasn’t expecting you to mourn me,” Wilbur says, in that stupid, even, condescending tone of his, the one that he uses whenever he thinks Tommy has said something incredibly obvious, when he’s got an idea in his head of how things are and what people mean, regardless of the way it all actually is. “In fact, I rather thought you wouldn’t. Shouldn’t, even.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” He has no patience left. No patience left for the look in Wilbur’s eyes, no patience left for the way he focuses straight ahead, barely sparing him a glance, no patience left for the way he speaks, measured and calculating, every word he says carefully weighed against the end result, curated for intent and impact. No patience, and he had precious little to begin with. “I’m not even—this isn’t about you.”

Wilbur raises an eyebrow. It makes him look like a prick. “Oh?” he says.

“Because I would’ve,” he continues, doggedly. Now that he’s started saying it, he’s damn fucking well going to finish it. “But, y’know, you blew it all up, so we had to rebuild, and then I got exiled” —His voice doesn’t waver at all— “and then shit just kept on happening, so I never got to decide. How I felt. I never got to think about it.”

Wilbur laughs, then, and it’s the laugh that he hates, because it’s the laugh that’s not genuine. He knows what Wilbur sounds like when he’s happy, and this isn’t it. Hasn’t been it for a long time.

“Not sure there’s much to think about, there,” Wilbur says, and he scowls.

“Shut up, you prick,” he says. “And yes there was. That’s not something you get to choose. What I feel.”

“I’m not trying to—” Wilbur starts, but he shakes his head, going back to talk over him, because no, he’s not doing this. Not today, and not here.

“You are though, aren’t you?” he says. “You always do this. You go, you go mimimimi, I’m Wilbur, and I understand everything about how people think and I’m always right and you are all wrong, and you, I dunno, man. You just. You just don’t. You don’t know. You think you know things, but you don’t. You’re not always right. And I’m—I don’t fucking know why I’m bothering with this right now, but it’s not so you can tell me that I shouldn’t be. Because that’s not something that’s up to you.”

“Then why are you bothering with this?” Wilbur says, and his voice isn’t unkind, but it’s not kind, either.

“I just said I didn’t know—”

“Because if you’re asking me if you should mourn me, you already know what I’m going to say to that,” Wilbur says. “I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s the fucking problem,” he says, and tacks on a quick, “Not like that,” but Wilbur’s face has already hardened, and yeah, there’s a million better ways he could have put that, but that’s the thing about talking to Wilbur. His brain is never firing on all cylinders, as it were, because it’s too busy trying to figure out if he should associate him with warm summer days and the haze of potions and a strummed guitar or explosions and drifting smoke and blank eyes and the awful realization that what he thought would make everything right didn’t do anything at all, and that nothing would ever be right again.

And before the both of them, L’Manberg’s crater stretches out, vines trawling over the edge, leaves sprouting from between the rocks, sunlight catching on the pool at the bottom, the flag fluttering lightly in the wind. Before the both of them, L’Manberg’s crater has grown over, time pressing itself into the cracks. Before the both of them, L’Manberg is a crater. It wasn’t always.

“You make everything so fucking difficult,” he says.

“It’s what I live for,” Wilbur says.

“It’s what you died for, too,” he says.

Wilbur pauses.

“No,” he says. “It wasn’t.” But for once, he doesn’t elaborate, and Tommy glares at him. Only for a moment, because there’s no point in glaring when someone won’t see. Won’t look. Wilbur has his eyes turned to the crater, and Tommy has his eyes turned to Wilbur, and something about that is how it’s always been. The vines have grown over the earth’s old wounds, but Tommy can’t help but feel like they’ve curled around his ankles, holding him to the spot, the moment, and every moment that came before.

I never got to mourn you, he doesn’t say again. I never got to mourn you, and I feel like I should. But you’re here, and what the hell am I supposed to do with that?

Wilbur won’t hear him. And if he does, he won’t understand.

-----

He collects bits of the past like buttons, or stamps, or memories.

He has his discs. He’s hesitant to play them, even now. Hesitant to take them out of his enderchest. He has his home, still in the same spot, all this time later. His hill, his hole, his garden, their bench. He sat on that bench and heard Wilbur, once, reaching out from beyond the grave, and Wilbur told him he was proud, and something in him ached in the same way that his scars now do when it rains.

He has some of Friend’s wool. Just that, just wool, because he doesn’t know how to knit, and he doesn’t know who would teach him. He can sew a little, but it was something born of necessity, of the need to patch up uniforms and close the tears over freshly dealt wounds, and he can still feel the needle pricking into his fingers, again and again and again. He never could figure out how to hold it so that it wouldn’t. He bled for L’Manberg in more ways than one.

Deep inside a chest, he has two uniforms. Blue and red and white. One is a size too small. The other is several sizes too large, and always will be.

He still goes to pray, sometimes, though not as often as he did. He got the chance to meet god and found no one there, so it’s a little tricky, these days, being faithful. But he’ll go to Church Prime, because no one else really does, so he’ll have the whole building for himself as he strides up to ring the bell, to ask for guidance and favors, to pay his homage at the feet of a higher power that he cannot believe cares. On the best days, he’s tempted to try to conduct a service. But there’s no point when there’s no one to hear it but himself. Even he can’t bring himself to put on a show for empty pews.

He prays, and nobody answers, and sometimes he can’t help but remember the void, the tearing, ripping nothingness, raking him to shreds again and again, where he was not alone and yet nobody came.

He considers visiting Tubbo. But Tubbo has his own life, and a mansion he hasn’t moved into, and a town that Tommy does not belong to, and an allegiance that Tommy does not share. He considers visiting Ranboo, but that’s either the same as visiting Tubbo, or it’s the same as visiting Techno and Phil, or it’s the same as visiting Wilbur.

So he looks at his discs and doesn’t play them, bunches his hands in wool that he has no use for, and calls out to a god he can only now offer false homage. He holds to the past, and wishes he could believe he has a future. Wishes that he didn’t see obsidian and curtaining lava whenever he closes his eyes.

-----

The first time he hears Wilbur play again, he hides in the forest like a fucking coward.

The guitar is strummed hesitantly, haltingly, interspersed with silence every few seconds, as if Wilbur is struggling to find the old positions, struggling to move his fingers just right. He wonders, then, if limbo took away his calluses. He didn’t think to look. Thirteen odd years without playing a guitar is bound to make anyone rusty. Tommy wonders if Wilbur’s fingers will bleed if he presses down on the strings hard enough, and then he banishes the thought from his mind, because something in him revolts at the idea of Wilbur bleeding. Of Wilbur trying and trying to play until he—

There is something to be said, here, about using yourself up in the pursuit of something greater. There is something to be said, here, about holding matches ‘til they burn down to the skin, about stairs without handrails, about things that are never meant to be and yet claw their way into existence anyhow. There is something to be said about pushing too far, too quick, and flying too high.

Wilbur’s not singing. Is just going from chord to chord. And Tommy hides behind a tree, pressing his back against the bark, because it has been so very long. Wilbur didn’t play in Pogtopia. Wilbur barely played in L’Manberg. The last time he heard the twang of this instrument was sitting by a campfire, plans for a van in the works, the night sky starry and welcoming above them, his chest warm in a way that had nothing to do with the flames. And Wilbur smiled at them, smiled at all of them, and his voice was light and sure, his notes soaring.

Wilbur’s not singing. After a moment, he starts humming, softly and meandering, and each turn in the melody hits like a wrench, like he’s dragging the notes out behind them, yanking at the tune whenever it goes somewhere he doesn’t like. It’s a lot of leaps and skips and jumps, a lot of highs to lows and then highs again, and something about it sounds like wailing. There are no words, and there is no happiness.

But he’s playing. He’s playing, and does that count for something? There was no music for such a long time, no music in the darkness and no music even in the light, and now there is music in the grey twilight, and it is not happy music but it is music. Wilbur is playing again, and Tommy’s not going to cry, because what kind of pussy cries about hearing a guitar? So he doesn’t cry, but he doesn’t venture out from this spot, either. He stays there, and listens as Wilbur sends his voice shooting up into falsetto and then back down again.

It’s good that there are no words, maybe. They’d be sad. He can tell.

“That sounds nice,” Ranboo says, all of a sudden, and Tommy jolts at the same time that Wilbur’s hand must jerk, a discordant clash of notes, something that can’t even be called a chord. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“You didn’t,” Wilbur says, after a pause. Tommy almost creeps out to see his expression, because he can’t picture it. Can’t tell from his voice what his face is doing. “I was just about done anyway.” There is another pause, and a rustle of clothing. Standing. The crunching of leaves underfoot. It’s nearly autumn again, and already the leaves are changing, falling.

It would be wrong of him to resent Ranboo. He’ll never admit it aloud, but he likes him. Rather a lot. Hiding it is probably pointless now, though that doesn’t stop him from trying. But Ranboo is occupying the space that should be his, that once was his. There is a van in a forest, and a guitar song winding its way through the branches and the roots, and everything is different and everything is the same, and the new story is written without him in it. He doesn’t know what he wants, but he thinks it is not this. He thinks it is not to be left behind.

And Ranboo does not know Wilbur well enough to hear the lie in his voice.

They go off together through the trees. Tommy stays. Runs his hand across the tree bark, and tries not to put his emotions into words. Better to let them drift along as is. Better not to give them voice, because whispers turn into shouts all too easily, and there is not enough space here for shouting.

-----

There’s a thing about graves. There’s a thing about graves and who gets one, and who doesn’t.

He didn’t think about it at the time, the fact that Schlatt—Schlatt the tyrant, Schlatt the enemy, Schlatt the man who had Tubbo executed—got a funeral, and a tomb, has one even to this day, and Wilbur got rubble and a room sealed off and untouched. Didn’t think about the fact that there was no burial. Didn’t think about the fact that there was no gravestone to deface or to ornament with flowers or to kick or to scream at or to kneel beside and speak to or to cry or to do any or all of those things. He didn’t think about it at the time, because there was rebuilding, and then there was a house on fire, and then he doesn’t like to think about it.

And there was Ghostbur.

Wilbur hates Ghostbur. It makes him angry, the way that Wilbur hates Ghostbur. Ghostbur was good, and Ghostbur was kind, and Ghostbur tried his best, and Ghostbur did not deserve to die in the way that he did, terrified, with no one there by his side, with only shouted numbers to soothe his terror, and Ghostbur does not deserve to be stuck in a train station for all of eternity. So he makes Ghostbur a memorial, because it’s all he can do, and the first time he’s next to it at the same time as Wilbur, he meets his eyes squarely. A challenge. A dare. And Wilbur looks right back at him, and then to the gravestone, and his lips curl into a sneer.

And he says nothing at all.

He says nothing at all for a long time. Until he does, and it’s all made so much worse.

“Would you rather he was here, instead of me?” Wilbur asks, and it’s all very even and nonchalant, so much so that it might have him fooled if he didn’t know better, hadn’t heard time and time again exactly what Wilbur thinks of the ghost he left behind him.

“The fuck kind of question is that?” he demands.

“An honest one,” Wilbur answers.

“Right,” he says. “Because you don’t lie anymore, or whatever the fuck.”

“I don’t,” Wilbur agrees, and that is a lie. Tommy would be insulted if he weren’t so tired of it. “Really, I’d like an answer.”

“What does it matter?” he snaps. “He’s not here anymore. He’s not here anymore, and you are. No changing that. I’m fucking stuck with you. You’re like, you’re like a leech, you know that? A leech in my brain.”

Wilbur smiles tightly.

“I’d rather be a leech in your brain than dust in the ground,” he says. “Like he is.”

“Shut up,” he grits out. “Don’t—just don’t fucking talk about him.”

“Alright, then,” Wilbur says. “I won’t. If it upsets you that much.”

And he doesn’t. And the grave stays.

And it is not until later that he thinks about the thing about graves again, about who gets one and who does not. There is no grave with Wilbur’s name on it. There was no soil to lay him to rest, only cold, hard stone, a room undisturbed, a monument to destruction. And had there been time, he would have thought about it more. Would have taken it upon himself, perhaps, because the thing is, in the end, that maybe Wilbur deserved better than to be remembered as the man who destroyed his nation. Deserved better than to be remembered solely by the ravine’s dark corridors and the smoke that clung to him like foreshadowing and the way his eyes looked dead, dead, dead for a long time before Tommy watched Phil plunge the sword into his chest.

Because he was not only that. It hurts to think about, how he was not only that. But sometimes, things that hurt to think about ought to be thought about. Because Wilbur was shattered edges that Tommy knows only now that he could not fix, because Wilbur did not want fixing, but Wilbur was also laughter and a gentle hand on his shoulder and the words “I’m proud of you” that lit him up like sunlight, and he was kind and he was kind of a dick and he was brilliant and Prime, maybe Tommy should have known. Should have known that there was going to be a fall. But he looked up to Wilbur like a child to a shooting star, and it’s a long time before children understand that shooting stars aren’t stars at all, and that the wonder of them comes from self-destruction.

But before Wilbur fell, he shone. A beacon in the dark. Hope, freedom. And before he was those things, too, he was Tommy’s brother. Just that, and nothing more, because more was not needed.

And he received no grave.

It’s a question of time again, and a question of mourning, and a question of how he was ever supposed to grieve when there was no time for it at all, and when a ghost shadowed his every footstep and dripped blue from cold fingers and insisted that nothing was ever wrong. But for the first time, he wonders how Wilbur thinks about it. Graves, and ghosts. And who gets a grave, and who does not.

Who is mourned, and who is not.

Who is given up on, and who is not.

The question echoes once again: “Would you rather he was here, instead of me?” And this time, Tommy hears no taunt in it, no mocking, no cruel joke about the ghost who deserved so much better. Only bitterness, and exhaustion, and resignation. Like Wilbur already knew what answer he would be granted.

That’s a realization of some sort, that Wilbur believes he prefers him dead. It’s a realization of some sort, but he doesn’t know what kind.

There’s ghosts and there’s graves, and there’s the living and there’s the dead, and both are left waiting for relief that never comes. It’s thirteen years in a train station and it’s months without knowing what to think, without having space to breathe, without being able to process that his brother was unwell and then that his brother was gone. It’s too much time and too little, too much distance and too little, and Ghostbur did not deserve what he got, but neither, he thinks, did Wilbur.

That thought feels right. And wrong all at once. Bitter, heart-wrenching. That Wilbur deserved better. They all did, that he knows—but Wilbur did too. And that thought is muddled up in all the rest, and he doesn’t know what to do with it, but it’s there. If there’s anything to be done with it at all.

-----

Here is a fact: he kept Dream alive for Wilbur’s sake.

Here is another fact: he doesn’t know if he regrets it.

Because here is the thing: he remembers that day, remembers the pain and the fear and the devastation, and he remembers the moment it all turned around, cowering behind Sapnap and behind Eret until the time came to step forward, to take the axe in hand and deliver the blow, to deliver himself to safety, finally, finally. And he remembers the words bitten out from Dream’s mouth, panicked, desperate, and he remembers what he said. He will never forget.

And the decision, in that moment, was far easier than it had any right to be.

It became harder, later. Because he made the decision thinking, in large part, of the person that Wilbur used to be. Of a quick, charming tongue and flashes of smiles and music and song and leadership and knowing what to do, always, and Prime above but Tommy missed that person. And so maybe he deluded himself. Maybe he thought, in that dark room, with the portal swirling behind him and the entire server at his back, that he could get that person again. That Wilbur would return, and that it could all go back to the way it used to be. Discs spinning in the sunrise, the server at peace, his brother with him.

But death put those thoughts to rest.

Because death proved to him that Wilbur had only gotten worse. Because in death, Wilbur was happy he was there, did nothing but talk to him and make him play competitive solitaire as he was torn apart atom by atom. Because Wilbur—he became so very certain that Wilbur, if released, would bring nothing but harm to the server again, would tear everything down, because there was something in his voice, in his eyes—

But that was then. And now, Dream still lives in prison, rots but lives, and Wilbur has a burger van in a forest with a friend and spends most of his days lounging about or making eyes at Quackity or talking up a storm but doing jack shit, and Tommy doesn’t know what to make of it, and doesn’t know how to admit that maybe his idea of what Wilbur would be like and what Wilbur would do wasn’t entirely accurate.

And he still doesn’t know if it was worth it. Worth the constant fear, worth knowing that one day, Dream will be out, will come to him, will try to finish what he started. He tried to prevent it and only made it worse, only led Ghostbur to his doom by his innocent, trusting hand, and Dream resurrected—

A monster, he would have said, once. He no longer knows if that is fair.

Because here is another fact, one that he is only now beginning to understand: Wilbur is very, painfully human. He’s always known, and yet he hasn’t, because once, he thought Wilbur hung the stars and the moon and all things bright and glowing and good, and he thought that Wilbur could never be so human as to be fallible, and then it turned out that he was wrong. And it was easy, in the aftermath of that, to figure that Wilbur was perhaps some kind of monster instead, and everyone around him said as much.

But that, he thinks, goes too far in the other direction.

His hopes will never be realized. He will never have the old Wilbur back. He clings to a past that clings to him right back, that has him in a chokehold and will not let go, but Wilbur is something else entirely. The rest of the past does not live and breathe, is contained in his overflowing chests, in uniforms that don’t fit him, in the church’s empty hall. The rest of the past is made of things he can hold, but he has never been able to hold Wilbur. Not then, and not now. And there is no hope of making of them what they once were.

There is no going back.

So was it worth it, then? To keep Dream alive, and to receive this, this man who varies between manic energy and calculated calm, who speaks with a whip in his tone at some times and unbearable softness at others, who proclaims Dream his hero and then claims he would have killed him, if he could, for what he did? Was it worth it, and is it worth it, and how is something like that measured at all?

Wilbur is a tightness in his chest when he speaks and a ghost that won’t leave and a ghost that died and a thousand words like a thousand stinging hornets and no picture that could encompass all of them, all of what they are and were. Wilbur is Wilbur, and Wilbur is not safe, not anymore, and perhaps Wilbur is not even good—but there, that, that is wrong, and he won’t make this mistake twice. Wilbur is good, it’s just that he’s forgotten that, and Tommy is so, so very tired of having to be the one to try and remind him. And Wilbur is empty space and Wilbur is a space too full and overflowing around the fractured edges, and Wilbur is too bright and too loud and too quiet and too little and too much, and even now, even still, Tommy does not know where they stand.

Was it worth it, to have this?

He doesn’t know. But sometimes, he imagines what it would be like if Wilbur were still dead, if Wilbur were never, ever coming back in any shape, in any form, and his throat closes up and his eyes sting, no matter how much he has laid out his hatred for the man, his regret at going into the prison that day. He tries to imagine a world without Wilbur in it, in which he has given up on Wilbur, and even now he doesn’t like it, even though maybe he should, and that is, perhaps, answer enough.

-----

“Why do you keep coming here?” Wilbur asks him.

“I dunno,” he says, instead of a hundred other things. “Why don’t you ever fucking leave?”

Wilbur just looks tired. There are bags under his eyes. Tommy thinks he can guess why; he so rarely slept during their exile, but Tommy is thinking about limbo, and train stations, and how whenever he closes his eyes, part of him is convinced that his heart has stopped beating. He wonders if Wilbur, for all his sunrise-obsession and constant movement and moments of utter wonderment at the world around him and the way he doesn’t move whenever a creeper approaches him, feels the same way.

“There was a reason I asked Ranboo to do this with me instead of you,” Wilbur says, suddenly, apropos of nothing. Tommy feels himself still. “I mean—actually, I asked Phil, and Phil was all, oh, Wil, go and make friends, and I was like fuck you I’m not twelve years old anymore but Ranboo’s pretty great so it worked out. But I—I guess what I’m getting at is that I don’t get it. Why you choose to keep coming ‘round here anyway.”

“Yeah?” he asks. “What’s not to get?”

Wilbur shoots him a look, eyebrows going up and mouth slanting all sympathetic-like.

“Tommy,” he says, slowly, as if talking to the child that Tommy has not been in a long, long time, “I’m not what you want.”

Several answers form in his head, and then dissipate just as quickly before he’s able to reply. “‘S that right?” he says, and something boils within him, hot and snapping and popping.

“I can see it when you look at me, man,” Wilbur says, and he doesn’t even sound upset. “You’re—and I mean, I don’t blame you for it. I was awful to you, Tommy. I don’t deserve anything less than your scorn. But you and everyone else, you’re all waiting for what I’m going to do next. You’re all waiting with bated breath. Scared of the next disaster I’m going to cause. So you don’t—you don’t have to be here, Tommy. Not if you don’t want to be.”

There are so many things he could say. Your disasters always cause the most damage to yourself, is one of them, and then there’s a simple, you think I don’t know that? Because how many times has he told himself that same thing? That he doesn’t need to be here? That it would be better for him if he wasn’t? And some part of him must listen, because he’s not actually here all that much. He has other things to do. A life outside of this, outside of this forest on the edge of a fake desert and a van that makes pretty shitty burgers and one Wilbur Soot, like a portrait from the past and yet nothing like that at all, because portraits are shadows, still images, permanent and unchanging, with mo mutable future, and Wilbur Soot is none of those things.

He has a life. He has Tubbo, still, even if it’s all changed. He has others. He’s not alone.

Wilbur’s right that he doesn’t have to be here.

“Stop fucking doing that,” he says. “Stop trying to make my decisions for me.”

Wilbur’s eyebrows furrow. “I’m not—”

“You are,” he says. “You always are. It’s my fucking choice whether I want to be here or not. And I’m making that choice. Not you. Me. And sure, maybe one day you’ll manage to get rid of me for good, but you’re gonna have to fucking work at it, and I don’t see you trying.”

“I thought you didn’t want me here, Tommy,” Wilbur returns, and the words seem to fall so effortlessly, like easy acceptance, and why, why is it this of all things that Wilbur seems to take in stride? Why is it this and not a thousand other things? Why is it this and not the fact that despite it all, despite every warning sign and every indication that maybe it might be better for him to give up after all, Tommy is still here?

“I didn’t want you gone, either,” he snaps, and Wilbur falls completely silent. So he continues, because who knows when he’ll have a chance to say this again? That’s the thing about chances; they’re difficult to count, impossible to anticipate, and he bollocksed up the first one he got, to try to break through. “I never wanted you gone in the first place. So maybe I don’t—maybe I don’t fucking know what I want. Because I never got to just live with that. There was never a chance to—there wasn’t even a fucking grave for me to visit. I never got to figure anything out, and now you’re back and nothing’s the fucking same, so maybe I don’t know what I fucking want. Maybe I don’t fucking know if I want you here, but I didn’t want you gone. I didn’t want you to be dead. And then you were. You just were, and I couldn’t—did you expect me to be alright with that?”

It’s a question of mourning, and a question of graves, and a question of chances and who deserves them. And Wilbur just looks confused.

Fuck him.

There’s so much more to say, and he can’t say any of it at all, and the past chokes him like a knot of vines or a clump of flowers in his throat, but he’s still breathing. He’s still breathing, breathes again, whatever, and Wilbur is the same. They’re the same in a lot of ways, maybe. On the other side of the final death, trying to hold onto and release the years gone by all at once. Moving forward, but stuck in quicksand, and they’re never going to get out if they don’t let each other.

“You’re my brother,” he says, and that’s all. As if that explains everything.

And maybe it does.

Wilbur blinks.

“Ah,” he says.

“Yeah,” Tommy says. “Fucking ah.”

“I’m sorry,” Wilbur says.

“You’d better be,” he says.

And impossibly, the vines uncurl, and the flowers come floating up, and when he takes a step forward, it comes easily.

There is a van in this forest, and it is not the same van. Some distance away, there is a crater in the ground, and nature has draped itself over the ruins of the lives they once had, and the flag still flaps at the bottom, and they are never, ever going to be able to rebuild what they lost. The crater will always be a crater, a scar in the earth. Healing, healed, grown over and stitched shut, but still a scar.

And there is a man standing in front of him who is not the same man that he knew. Not the same man that he claimed for his family, and who claimed him in return.

But he is not the same, either. Perhaps nobody and nothing is. The past clings, and he clings tighter, but perhaps he needs to loosen his grip, because despite everything, there is a future out there, somewhere past the next sunrise. They are going to get older. They are going to live. So he has his discs and his uniforms and his wool and his prayer, and he has this, too, because it is his choice. To take a step forward, and wait to be met in the middle. To dare to turn ahead, to believe that there is something awaiting him. The both of them.

And he thinks he might finally be able to let himself grieve. Grieve, and let go. Grieve the dead, and what they had, and what they might have, and grieve for the fact that there was no grieving, no grave.

And then, let himself hope that they will have better after all.

-----

The next time he hears Wilbur play, he steps out from behind the tree.

And maybe the song is a little less sad.

And maybe nothing will ever be the same as it used to be.

And maybe it will be alright.

[kingexpl0sionmurder]

Date The Hell Out Of You - Kaminari Denki

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder​ Pairing: Kaminari Denki/F!Reader Rating: 16+ (Fluff) Words:  1,575 Warnings: I have opinions about comic books so don’t come at me. I think it’s a very mild argument anyway so it shouldn’t be a big deal, but if you feel offended pls know it wasn’t my intention to bash on Batman lol. AN: Hellooo here is my contribution to this months bnharem collab! The theme is Co-Workers and I just wanted Denki and a bookstore so you get this short and fluffy little thing. You’re welcome! Please check the masterlist below for everyone else’s works and heed each pieces warnings before you dive in!

Collab Masterlist My Masterlist My Ko-Fi

---

“You cannot sit there and tell me that you think Batman is better than Iron Man. I refuse to believe it.” You huffed, crossing your arms across your chest and glaring daggers at his best friend.

This had become like a routine to Kaminari, ever since he’d started working at the bookstore, which had been almost a year ago.

He took his lunch break at the same time most days, anxiously hoping you had a break at the same time as well. It wasn’t because he thought you were cute (he totally did, honestly), he just enjoyed your company. You had some loud and unique opinions on a lot of things, and he was thoroughly entertained when you went off like this. 

“Well they’re both billionaires with no special powers, just a lot of cool gadgets, right?” Sero pointed out, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded behind his head, his bento sitting forgotten on the table.

“You’re right. But Tony Stark has a sense of humor. Batman is such a stick in the mud.” You made a face from your spot across from them, your chopsticks resting over your cup noodles, the utensil keeping the lid closed so they would cook. 

“Yeah, but in terms of physical strength, Bruce Wayne has got Tony beat.” Sero sat forward, picking up his chopsticks again. “Tony relies on his tech. In a hand to hand fight, Batman wins every time.”

“Tony is smarter, though.” You sighed. “Look, do I need to direct you to read the Civil War series? It’s only like 7 issues. I can lend them to you.”

“It’s got Spider-Man in it.” Kaminari supplied helpfully. “He’s your favorite.”

Sero chuckled. “Yeah, okay. Maybe it’ll change my mind.”

“Trust me. Batman is lame, he’s got some interesting villains though.” You finally moved to eat your ramen. “What about you, Kaminari? Any opinions?”

Shrugging, he finished off the last bit of rice in his bento. “I don’t know, I’m not huge into comic books. I like Deadpool, though.”

“That’s so on brand.” Sero chuckled. “He’s a ridiculous dumbass, just like you.”

“Hey!”

“Listen, Deadpool is probably one of the funniest antiheroes. He breaks the fourth wall so often, it’s my favorite thing.” You grinned at him. “I think it’s a perfect choice.”

Kaminari could feel the blush creeping up his neck at your words. You thought he was funny. “Thanks, Y/N.”

Clearing his throat, Sero stood up. “My break’s over. Can you check on the YA section when you’re back on, Kami? Some kids were in here earlier and I think they moved all the Twilight books around.” His teasing grin told him that Sero had not missed the way he’d reacted to what you’d said to him. 

“Sure thing, boss.” He gave him a salute. “I’ve got like 10 minutes left.”

Sero packed up his bento and shoved it back in the breakroom fridge and left, leaving Kaminari alone with you. 

Kaminari opened his mouth, spitting out the first thing that came to his mind. “But here’s the real question.” He pointed at you with his chopsticks. “Team Edward or Team Jacob?”

--

Kaminari was crouching down, putting the last copies of ‘Breaking Dawn’ back on the shelf when someone walked up to him.  

“If she’s Team Edward you’re going to have to call up Aoyama and ask him to hook you up with some body glitter.” 

He glanced towards his right, smiling at the scuffed black boots belonging to his other best friend, Shinsou.

Kaminari stood, staring at the cat sticker stuck to the side of the reusable coffee cup that his perpetually tired friend always had with him. His gaze then flicked to his face, his customary grin back on his lips. “You think he can help?”

Rolling his eyes, the purple haired man shifted on his feet. “Of course. He works for some makeup place, I bet they have loads of glittery shit.” 

Humming, Denki let his gaze move back to the shelf, making sure everything looked okay. He threw his arm around Shinsou and began walking back to his own section (he was in charge of The Classics, okay?) leaning into the taller man. “I’ll pick you up some black eyeliner while I’m at it.”

“Please do, I’m almost out.” He snarked, before his smirk fell and he sighed. “Look, you need to do something about this crush you have on Y/N.”

“I do not have to do a thing, my friend. I am happily content sitting over here and pining away quietly.” Kaminari threw his arm out dramatically. “Leave me be.”

“Quietly?” Shinsou snorted. “Look, man, I just mean, I’ve been seeing Monoma hanging around her a lot, I just don’t want you to miss your chance.”

Kaminari stopped walking. “Monoma? But he works in the reference section, where they sell those ‘for dummies’ books!”

“Maybe he read ‘Flirting for Dummies’ and now he has a clue. You should look into it yourself.” Shinsou’s raised eyebrow caused Kaminari’s frown to deepen. 

“I know how to flirt, Shinsou.” Huffing, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t you need to go back to Science Fiction and get some work done?”

Sipping his coffee, he fixed Kaminari with a look. “Since I am such a wonderful friend, you’re going to swap me on Saturday and work my section, which is conveniently right next to Manga and Comics, where Y/N will be. You are going to make a move or so help me, I am going to beat you over the head with a copy of ‘Wuthering Heights’.”

“Why that one? Why not something longer, like ‘Don Quixote’?”

“Do you want it to hurt?” Shinsou asked, looking entirely done with his shit. “You’re ridiculous. Just do something, otherwise Monoma might get a date before you do.”

Kaminari cursed under his breath. The thought of you laughing and smiling at Monoma’s terrible jokes rubbed him the wrong way. “Fine. I’ll think of something.”

Seemingly satisfied, Shinsou patted him on the shoulder. “I believe in you.”

—

“How come you and Sero always have these fancy looking bentos for lunch?” You asked, sliding into the seat across from him.

Kaminari paused with his rice halfway to his mouth and looked up. “Our roommate. He’s like a mother hen, he always packs us lunch.”  

Looking impressed, you raised an eyebrow. “He sounds like a keeper.”

Chuckling, Kaminari sat back in his chair. “Yeah, he’s a handful, but under his extremely aggressive exterior he’s a good guy.” He gestured to your ramen. “Maybe I can get him to make you one. All I have to do is tell him you eat cup noodles for lunch every day and he’ll have a heart attack.”

“I like my ramen, okay? It makes me feel like Naruto.” You raised your arms and grinned. “Believe it!”

Rolling his eyes fondly, he turned back to his lunch, poking at his tamagoyaki. He’d been working in the section beside you all day, listening to you gush over the newest shipment of manga you’d received, shoving books at him and making recommendations. He’d been trying to work up the courage all day to get off his ass and ask you out, and he was failing spectacularly.

“You know, if you want to be like Naruto, you should be eating tonkatsu miso with the little narutomaki in it.”

You blinked at him, looking surprised. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

This was it. His chance. “We should go get the real thing sometime.” He swallowed thickly, his palms sweating. “Like, maybe tomorrow night?” He closed his eyes, waiting for you to respond.

“Kaminari, are you asking me on a date?”

The fondness in your tone had him opening his eyes to see your expression. You were blushing, biting on your bottom lip as you stared at him.

“I mean, yeah. A date. If you want to, I mean.”

He was seconds away from backpedaling, his heart climbing up his throat and on the verge of escaping his body. The anticipation was killing him. 

His nervousness and fear of rejection was all for naught. Your face lit up, a genuine smile gracing your lips. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“I would love that.”

A breath he didn’t realize he was holding escaped his lips. “Yeah, okay. Awesome.”

You giggled, leaning your elbow on the table, resting your cheek against your palm. “Did you think I’d say no?”

Feeling a little ridiculous, he blushed and nodded. “I was worried you might. I’m an idiot and you’re...you.”

You scoffed, kicking him under the table lightly. “You’re not an idiot, Kaminari. To be honest, I thought you’d never ask. I guess Shinsou wasn’t lying.”

“About what?” He sat up straight, frowning. “I’m going to kick his ass. What did he say?”

Snorting, you shook your head. “He might have mentioned that you liked me. I wasn’t sure though.”

“Are you kidding? Was I not being obvious enough?”

“You flirt with everyone, I didn’t think I was special.” You teased. “I’m glad he was right, though.” You turned back to your noodles.

“You are though. At least you are to me.” Grinning, he nudged your foot with his. “I’m going to date the hell out of you, Y/N. Just wait and see.”

His heart swooped in his chest when you looked back at him across the table. “I’m looking forward to it.”

[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

The Last Chthonian

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

Part 9

A/N: Part 9 is here y’all! Enjoy! And let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list! 💕💕💕

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity, and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside, until a certain trio appear at your doorstep one day.

Warnings: language, slight mention of past trauma and wounds.

You had already boarded Zemo’s private jet, sitting on the seat across from him while Sam had sat beside you with Bucky across from him. Oeznik had approached you all, asking if you wanted something to eat or drink and sharing a few words with Zemo. You shook your head, politely refusing with a kind smile before staring out the window of the jet and watching the clouds. Even though you had just left your home, you missed everyone there dearly, almost wishing you had the chance to bring Kólasi along. But you knew the local people would not take kindly to a dragon walking their streets. And wherever you were now heading, you had a feeling you were going somewhere you wouldn’t find agreeable.

“So do you have a private jet?” You heard Sam ask you.

“Nah.”

“How come?”

“She has a dragon and a pegasus Sam. I’m pretty sure they are her mode of transportation.” Zemo added.

“Wait. But what if it’s raining or there’s a storm?” Sam turned in his seat to face you, leaning in as he was curious to know how you managed to ride openly through the clouds in a storm.

“Well my father was Zeus, the god of the skies and thunder Sam. A little lightning won’t hurt me.”

“Wouldn’t you be soaked though? That doesn’t sound very comfortable.”

“Yes, well if that’s the case than I can just teleport.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Are you able to teleport others?” Bucky wanted to know, if so, it would be helpful to use that, right?

“I can. But the very first time can be unpleasant.”

“How so?”

“Well try to imagine your molecules separating and joining back together.” You tried to make an example with a motion of your hands. “So that in itself is an unpleasant feeling. You’ll also most likely puke your insides out after your first time. And there are even some rare cases where you might come back......disarranged.”

“What do you mean by disarranged?” Zemo raised his brow, not sure if you meant what he thought you meant. Would you reappear, swapped in each other’s bodies or.......

“Oh you know. Your leg might end up where your arm is supposed to be. Or your head might be sticking out your ass, something like that.” You smirked as you toyed with them, seeing the terrified expressions on everyone’s faces. They were most likely praying you wouldn’t use that ability on them. “I’m kidding, geez. Tough crowd.”

“Kidding about what part?” Bucky remarked.

“The disarrangement part. But in all realness, the only side affects are nausea and vomiting and your body feeling like jello. But you’ll get used to it.”

“Sounds like a blast.” Sam noted. “Please don’t teleport us unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Only if absolutely necessary.” You promised.

“Also, what’s up with all the weapons? Were you some kind of mercenary?” Sam asked you another question as he thought about all the weapons and armor you had in your armory.

“Well I wouldn’t call it that. Mercenaries were for profit and personal interest. I on the other hand went after tyrants and criminals. But I also hunted down monsters that posed a threat to the human population. I guess you could say I dealt with more of the.....supernatural.” You tried to elaborate.

“Monsters?” Sam raised his brow. “Like what?”

“You know, vampires, werewolves, minotaurs, hydras, chimeras, echidnas, sea monsters-“ you started to list off before Sam cut you off.

“Woah woah hang on. Vampires and werewolves? As in like twilight?”

“Hell no. I’m talking vicious flesh eating monsters here that absolutely do not sparkle. I mean, there are still some vampires left that play by the rules and don’t feed on your fellow mortals. But sometimes you’ll have the few that think they can break the rules like a bunch of idiots. Werewolves on the other hand are trickier, don’t get me started on them. But don’t worry, I got a guy, a half-mortal or daywalker, in charge of the supernatural business.”

“Hold up. So you were what? Like a Van Helsing?”

“Welll, Van Helsing was a real person.”

“Are you serious?” Bucky sat up in his seat. “What about Dracula?”

“Oh he was a real pain in the ass I tell you. That slimy bastard tried to seduce me so that he could take all the creatures under my control to do his bidding. Well, as you can see, that obviously didn’t work.”

Before the men could ask any more questions your phone buzzed in your pocket, making you pick it up to see Maze’s name on the front. Your heart skipped a beat for a moment as you stared at the screen, all the negative possibilities running through your head.

“Who is it?” Sam asked you once he noticed your expression.

“It’s Maze.”

“Did something happen?” Bucky inquired, his brows were raised and his voice was filled with concern.

“I hope not.” You accepted the call, lifting your phone to your ear. “Maze?”

“Hekate! It’s Athena!” Maze spoke in a somewhat panicked voice which only added to your nervousness and suspicions.

You shot up from your seat at the tone of her voice and her mentioning your daughter’s name. “What?! What do you mean? Did something happen to her?”

The men watched you with concern, leaning forward in the edge of their seats once they heard your daughter being mentioned. They were ready to rush over to your place right now if need be.

“Well she fell from the tree.”

“She what?!” Your blood ran cold and your heart was pounding in your chest, it felt as if it would burst right through your rib cage. “Maze speak!”

“Okay! Hang on a second. What happened was, she was playing around in her treehouse and tried to climb to the top of the tree. I tried to stop her when I saw what she was doing but she fell straight down.”

You shrieked in panic at what you had just heard. Your knees felt weak and you thought you might pass out but Bucky stood up to give you support, holding you as you gripped on to his metal arm, nearly crushing it in the process. “Is she hurt? Maze you need to tell me!”

Oeznik came in upon hearing your trembling voice, asking if anything was the matter, but Zemo had explained to him that they had it under control and should alert him if anything was needed.

“Well that’s why I’m calling you. She’s totally fine.” Maze replied.

“Wait............wait what?” You shook your head in confusion, not getting what she was talking about.

“I know right? I’m pretty sure there’s supposed to be broken bones and like lots of blood after a fall like that, but she doesn’t even have a scratch on her. She even laughed the whole thing off like some kind of miniature maniac. She nearly gave me a heart attack, and demons don’t get heart attacks. Now is that normal and should I be worried?”

“Uhhh.” You were unable to form words as you tried to figure it out. Was it the protection spell you put over her or was it just her in general? You had kept such a close eye on Athena, making sure she never got hurt, that now that she has been in a situation where she could’ve gotten injured, you didn’t know how to react or what to think. But Maze did say she didn’t have a single scratch or broken bone or any kind of injury. So that must be a good thing.....right?

“Hekate?” You heard Maze on the other line again. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah everything is fine. I was just.....thrown off for a bit. How is she?”

“Oh she’s great! We painted each other’s nails today. She’s taking a nap right now though. Hey, where’s that good shit that you have?”

“Good shit?”

“You know. Your really expensive wine from Olympus that your sibling, the wine god, what’s their name made?”

“Dionysus?”

“Yeah.”

“Umm it’s in the very top cupboard above the sink.”

“Okay thanks. I need a glass after what happened, or a bottle. Bye Hekate!” Maze hung up while you stood there, still surprised to hear Athena was unharmed and feeling almost drained after the whole ordeal.

“Everything okay?” Bucky whispered, his eyes searching your face for any further signs.

You noticed how close he was as he supported you, and you couldn’t help the blush that appeared on your cheeks, averting your gaze from his steel blue eyes. “Yeah, uh thanks.” You let go of his metal arm while he let go of you, allowing you to sit back in your seat.

“So is everything okay with Athena?” You heard Sam ask while you stared at the ground.

“Athena uh fell from the tree.”

“Is she okay?” Zemo asked you, his brows furrowed together.

“Yeah she’s fine, surprisingly. There wasn’t a single scratch on her. Must be the genes.”

Bucky pulled up the sleeve of his metal arm, a surprised chuckle leaving his lips as he saw the dented hand print you left behind. “Geez y/n. What’s with the Hercules grip?”

“Huh?” You looked up at him, glancing down at his arm to see your handprint dented into the vibranium. “Oh shit! I am so sorry! Let me fix that.” With a wave of your hand and a swirl of violet around your fingers, you fixed the dent in Bucky’s arm as if nothing ever happened to it.

Once Sam saw that you were completely fine, he turned to Zemo. “So, why don’t you tell us about where we’re going?”

“I’m sorry. I was just fascinated by this. I don’t know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?” Zemo pulled out a small leather book which looked like the exact same one Steve had.

You jolted back in your chair as Bucky charged at Zemo, grabbing him by the neck and snatching the book back.

Your eyes widened at the commotion in front of you. “Yo! Can you guys chill out?”

“If you touch that again, I’ll kill you.” Bucky threatened him before going back to his seat.

“I’m sorry. I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.”

“Don’t push it.”

“I’ve seen that book.” Sam commented. “It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What’d you think?”

“I like 40s music, so....”

“You didn’t like it?” Sam gave him an offended look.

“I liked it.”

“It is a masterpiece, James. Complete. Comprehensive. It captures the African-American experience.” Zemo elaborated to the conversation.

“He’s out of line, but he’s right. It’s great. Everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

“I like Marvin Gaye.” James responded.

“Steve adored Marvin Gaye. And y/n likes him too, don’t you y/n?” Sam now turned to you.

“Hm? Oh yeah, he’s great! Hendrix was pretty awesome too. Saw him in Woodstock, super chill dude to jam out on the guitar with by the way. I may or may not have dropped acid there.” You added the last part to yourself, though Sam overheard it and gave you a judgmental look, to which you looked at him, mouthing how it was only one time.

“You must have really looked up to Steve.” Zemo voiced. “But I realized something when I met him. The danger with people like him, America’s Super Soldiers, is that we put them on pedestals.”

“Watch your step, Zemo.”

“They become symbols.” Zemo continued to make his point. “Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there, cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought. You remember that, right? As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull?”

As Zemo spoke, you thought about how many of your people looked up to your father and brother, and even Hera. How many of them saw them as their beloved gods and saviors, these righteous and glorious beings. But you were there and witnessed what happened behind closed doors, you were a product of that, a product of their faults and imperfections. And as those memories came rushing back to you, so did the pain of the scars it left behind. You could still feel the tenderness of the long scar on your face left by Ares, and the number of ones that were scattered on your back like a pile of jagged twigs, leaving behind a grisly form of artwork.

“That is why we’re going to Madripoor.” Zemo finished.

You lifted your head up at the mention of the place, jerking your head towards Zemo. Well you were right about how you weren’t going to like the new destination.

Tag List: @girl-obsessed-with-things @aerynchromie @sunshinepower17 @viviace @kakimakiloh @thebivirgin @gambitsqueen @spookycereal-s @lulu-yuming @mochminnie @gabitanaka47 @s00nhi @vanteguccir @tomhollandsslilslut @dracoxxyoflam @suchababie @uhhhcrypticbastard @on-my-way-to-erebor @thewinterrbucky

[piratewithvigor]

My first thought in regard to every band that gets played on my radio station

ACDC: Every dad’s favourite band

Adams, Bryan: Every mom’s favourite singer until Michael Buble came along

Aerosmith: haha they thought Vince Neil was a lady

Alice Cooper: he’s a Game Of Thrones fanboy and I have proof

Alice In Chains: my sister doesn’t like them because she decided AC were Alice Cooper’s initials ONLY

Allman Brothers Band: good music for dropping acid to

Allman, Gregg: That’s too many Gs for one name

Animals: House Of The Rising Sun, or who even cares

Argent: Sometimes Hold Your Head Up is really catchy

Asia: Tuesdays

Autograph: one of the members went on to be a pharmacist

Bachman-Turner Overdrive: There are just so many pop culture jokes about Taking Care Of Business that whatever I say won’t be as funny

Bad Company: with their song; Bad Company, off their album; Bad Company

Benatar, Pat: Always getting her confused with Patti Smith

Black Crowes: I like them for Lickin, but it doesn’t seem to exist outside of one shoddy video on youtube and my old CD

Blackfoot: this band name feels kind of racy

Black Sabbath: Dio was not better or worse than Ozzy; just different

Blondie: I like Call Me, but Blondie confuses me stylistically

Blue Oyster Cult: MORE COWBELL

Bon Jovi: Hello, childhood trauma, I missed you

Boston: ONE GUY. ONE GUY DID IT ALL AND NO ONE KNOWS

Bowie, David: Don’t let your children watch The Man Who Fell To Earth, or David Bowie’s will end up being the third penis they see in life

Browne, Jackson: Another musician ruined by Supernatural

Buffalo Springfield: Jack Nicholson was at the riot they sing about

Burdon, Eric: no ideas, brain empty

Bush: ditto

Candlebox: ditto once more. Who are these people?

Cars: This band feels so gay and so straight at the same time, I can only assume they’re the poster children of bisexual panic

Cheap Trick: I played Dream Police on Guitar Hero so fucking much because it was the only song anyone who played with me could keep up with

Chicago: Chicago 30 exists, but they do not have 30 albums. Fucking riddle me that

Clapton, Eric: 6 discs in one Greatest Hits is too many. That’s called “re releasing your discography”

Cochrane, Tom: For some reason, everyone thinks Rascal Flats did it better

Cocker, Joe: Belushi did it right

Collective Soul: who?

Collins, Phil: If his biggest hits were done by MCR, they would be emo anthems, but because he’s 5′6″ and from the 80s, they’re not

Cream: *Vietnam flashbacks on the hippie side*

CCR: *Vietnam flashbacks on the war side*

CSNY: David Crosby; meh

Deep Purple: THEY’RE SO MUCH MORE THAN SMOKE ON THE WATER

Def Leppard: the only music for when you’re a heartbroken bitch but also a sexy one

Derek And The Dominos: Clapton and ‘Layla’ broke up

Derringer, Rick: Tom Petty if he was from the midwest

Dio: You thought it was an anime reference, but it was me, Dio

Dire Straits: You can tell how bigoted a radio station is based on how much of Money For Nothing they censor

Doobie Brothers: I have yet to smoke weed, but I listen to the Doobies, and I think that’s pretty close

Dylan, Bob: I take back everything I said about him in my youth

Eagles: Hotel California isn’t their best song, but the memes that come from it are second to none

Edgar Winter Group: @the--blackdahlia

Electric Light Orchestra: Actually an orchestra and sound a fuckton like George Harrison

ELO: I really hesitate to ask what happens with the 7 virgins and a mule

Essex, David: no prominent memories of him

Fabulous Thunderbirds: cannot spell

Faces: Who on earth thought that was a good album name?

Faith No More: I got nothing

Fixx: One Thing Leads To Another is a damn bop

Fleetwood Mac: I ain’t straight, but I’m simply not enough of a witch to enjoy them to full potential

Fogerty, John: He got sued cause he sounded like himself

Foghat: Slow Ride slowly becoming less coherent feels like a drug trip

Foo Fighters: He was just excited to buy a grill

Ford, Lita: deserved better

Foreigner: dramatically overplayed

Frampton, Peter: a masterful user of the talk box

Free: dramatically underplayed

Gabriel, Peter: leaving Genesis changed him a lot

Genesis: if someone likes Genesis, clarify the era, because yes, it does matter

Georgia Satellites: sing like you have a cactus in your ass

Golden Earring: Twilight Zone slaps, but it doesn’t slap as hard as this station thinks it does

Grand Funk Railroad: Funk

Grateful Dead: I like their aesthetic more than their music

Great White: there are so many fucking shark jokes

Greenbaum, Norman: makes me think of Subway for some reason

Green Day: the first of the emo revolution

Greg Kihn Band: RocKihnRoll is literally the most clever album name I’ve ever seen

Guns N Roses: They have more than three good songs, but radio stations never recognize that

Hagar, Sammy: I’m still trying to figure out where he lived to take 16 hours to get to LA driving 55 and how fucking fast was he driving beforehand?

Harrison, George: He went from religious to rock, and if he had continued rocking, he would have gotten too cool 

Head East: I respect people who use breakfast foods as album names

Heart: Magic Man and Barracuda are played at least once every goddamn day. They’re not even the best songs!

Hendrix, Jimi: I have both a cousin and a sibling named after Hendrix references

Henley, Don: Dirty Laundry gives me too much inspiration

Hollies: Somehow sound like they’re both from the 60s and the 80s at the same time

Idol, Billy: he’s doing well for himself

INXS: Terminator vibes

Iris, Donnie: knockoff Roy Orbison

James Gang: too many funks

Jane’s Addiction: if TMNT had a grunge band representative

Jefferson Airplane: *assorted cheers*

Jefferson Starship: *assorted boos*

Jethro Tull: The only band to make you feel not cool enough to play the flute

Jett, Joan: icon

J. Geils Band: I requested them on the radio once and it got played

Joel, Billy: he really did just air everybody’s business like that

John Cafferty And The Beaver Brown Band: literally wtf is that name

John, Elton: yarn Elton sits in my basement, unstaring. Please someone take him from me

Joplin, Janis: Queen

Journey: Stop overplaying Don’t Stop Believing. It takes away from the rest of the repetoire

Judas Priest: literally started the gay leather aesthetic

Kansas: another fucking band Supernatural stole

Kenny Wayne Shepherd: the man confuses me to the point where he isn’t in the right place alphabetically

Kiss: Mick Mars and I will simply have to disagree on the subject

Kravitz, Lenny: runaway vibes

Led Zeppelin: Fucking fight me if you don’t think they’re the most talented band (maybe not the most talented individually, but collectively, no one comes close)

Lennon, John: My least favourite Beatle for reasons

Live: I got nothin

Living Colour: slap a decent amount

Loverboy: do you not get TURNT the fuck up to the big Loverboy hits? Who hurt you??

Lynyrd Skynyrd: Sweet Home Alabama is a Neil Young diss track

Marshall Tucker Band: no opinion

Manfred Mann’s Earth Band: VERY STRONG OPINIONS THAT THEY AREN’T GOOD

McCartney, Paul/Wings: Power couple

Meatloaf: I have nothing but respect for a man who willingly named himself Meatloaf

Mellencamp, John: voted cutest lesbian of 1987

Metallica: I liked their appearance on Jimmy Fallon

Midnight Oil: I get them confused for Talking Heads a lot

Modern English: who?

Molly Hatchet: Hollies vibes, but also Georgia Satellites vibes

Money, Eddie: DAN AVIDAN, IF YOU SEE THIS, COVER TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT

Motley Crue: Stan Mick Mars and John Corabi. They’re the only ones who deserve it

Mott The Hoople: no one loves them except for David Bowie

Mountain: props for naming an album ‘Climbing’

Nazareth: I want to make a John Mulaney joke here, but I can never come up with one

Nicks, Stevie: witch queen

Night Ranger: I get them confused with Urge Overkill

Nirvana: Kurt Cobain was the ally grunge needed

Nova, Aldo: he’s Canadian, at least

Nugent, Ted: *serves a ghost as jerky*

Offspring: nothing here

Osbourne, Ozzy: this bitch crazy

Outfield: Your Love is kind of a sketchy song, but it slaps hard

Palmer, Robert: low quality Eddie Money

Pearl Jam: *grunts in Eddie Vedder*

Petty, Tom: I have so many feelings about Tom Petty and they are all good

Pink Floyd: which one is Pink?

Plant, Robert: solo career is a crapshoot, but his voice is unparalleled

Poison: I want them to write a song called ‘Alice Cooper’

Pretenders: I want to say good things, but I have nothing to say

Queen: A doctor of astrophysics, a screaming girl, a disco queen and a diva walk into a bar. It’s Queen; they’re there to play a gig

Queensryche: neutral opinion

Quiet Riot: they got big because of a song they hated. I love that

Rafferty, Gerry: the second-sexiest sax opening in all of music

Rainbow: Ritchie Blackmore created something very magnificent

Ram Jam: one good song and they didn’t even write it

Ratt: I’m sure they have more than Round And Round, but I don’t know it

RHCP: funky, but if you have paid money to hear them, you’re going to The Bad Place (I don’t make the rules)

Red Rider: basically Golden Earring

Reed, Lou: Walk On The Wild Side would be such a cool song if it wasn’t so dull

REM: American Tragically Hip

REO Speedwagon: Props for having a dad joke as an album title

Rolling Stones: Never in my life could I imagine the drummer being named anything but Charlie

Rush: How to make being uncool the coolest fucking shit

Santana: The world needs more Santana

Scandal: There’s something really funny about The Warrior being my brother’s “song” with his girlfriend

Scorpions: Was Wind Of Change written by the CIA? Only the spotify podcast I got an ad for once could say

Seger, Bob: A different variety of Eric Clapton (frankly a better variety, but that’s just me)

Simple Minds: we ALL forgot about you

Skid Row: Sebastian Bach is prettier than all of us

Soundgarden: music that makes you feel like you dunked your head underwater

Springsteen, Bruce: my arch-nemesis. Maybe someday, he’ll find out about it

Squeeze: according to my friends, the stupidest band name ever, but they’re theatre kids, so you know

Squier, Billy: If he can make it through 1984 alive, you can make it through whatever bad day you’re having

Stealers Wheel: Yet another band who I always mistake for George Harrison

Steely Dan: my house’s nickname for the Robber in Settlers Of Catan

Steppenwolf: Either makes me think of Jay & Silent Bob, Jack Nicholson, or that time I had to cut 6lbs of onions

Steve Miller Band: when you’re in the right mood, they slap hard

Stewart, Rod: my soundtrack to summer 2015

Stills, Stephen: Love The One You’re With Is Catchy, but the lyrics are questionable

Stone Temple Pilots: the only band to write a song about goo you smear on yourself

Stray Cats: an obscene amount of merch is available for them

Styx: Supernatural would have ruined them for me too if I hadn’t been into them previously. 

Supertramp: I hunted for Breakfast In America for two years and it was worth every hunt

Sweet: I will never understand my two-month obsession with Ballroom Blitz when I was 15, but it was legit all I listened to

Talking Heads: you may find yourself in a pizza hut. And you may find yourself in a taco bell. And you may find yourself at the combination pizza hut and taco bell. And you may ask yourself; ‘how did I get here?’

Temple Of The Dog: I keep confusing them for Nazareth

Ten Years After: somehow still relevant

Tesla: not the car or the dude

The Beatles: Evokes a lot of opinions from people. Mine is that I love them

The Clash: I showed my sister the ‘Lock The Taskbar’ vine ONCE and it still kills her

The Doors: evokes teenage terror from deep within my soul

The Guess Who: Canada’s answer to confusing question-themed band names

The Kinks: kinky

The Police: wrote the theme of 2020 and everyone somehow forgot it was about a teacher resisting becoming a pedophile

The Ramones: playing all of their songs in a row wouldn’t take more than 2 hours

The Romantics: you don’t think you know them, but if you’ve seen Shrek 2, you have

The Who: If someone can explain Tommy to me, I’d be glad to hear it

The Zombies: I think they happened because of the 60s

Thin Lizzy: Could the boys maybe leave town?

Thorogood, George: blues, but make it modern

Toto: the most memed song behind All Star

Townshend, Pete: just makes me think of the end of Mr. Deeds

T-Rex: Mark Bolan is an icon

Triumph: The no-name brand of Rush

Tubes: like the yogurt

Twisted Sister: they did a christmas album and my mom does NOT hate it

U2: U2 Movers; we move in mysterious ways

Van Halen: RIP Eddie

Van Morrison: honestly, who’s named Van?

Vaughn, Stevie Ray: Steamy Ray Vaughn

Walsh, Joe: The Smoker You Drink The Player You Get

War: Foghat, but even groovier

Whitesnake: the most successful band to be named after a penis

Wright, Gary: the 90s thanks him for writing the song every movie used for the “guy sees cute girl and it’s love at first sight” scene

Yes: To Be Continued

Young, Neil: The best part of CSNY

Zevon, Warren: the album cover of Excitable Boy makes me deeply uncomfortable for reasons I don’t understand

ZZ Top: has been the same three guys since 1969. Lineup unchanged. 

3 Doors Down: They feel a little modern to be on a classic rock station, but whatever

38 Special: Why 38?

[katsuflossy]

Whatever It Takes

Pairing: Dabi x reader

WC: 2.3k

TW: Detailed parental abuse, detailed description of a mental episode, obscenities, mention of arranged marriage

A/n: ngl all of this is severely overdue but the recent chapter made my creative juices flow so here we are! Please enjoy💖

Taglist: @melanimed @mixfi @mythiccheroacademia @myhoodacademia @mypimpademia @ecao @strawberry-ice @plutropica @photosbyameil @lunabby010 @iiminibattlehero​ @sleepysheepkiara​

The air was crisp, dark, and cold, what one had expected for the autumn night. Only a few patrons roamed the streets in the twilight. Those that wander under the streetlight had their eyes crossed, mind buzzed, and hand full of one final drink due to being kicked out of the bars. The ladies of the kingdom stayed within the comfort of their homes. They laid around the compassion of their loves or their families, only knowing of the horrors of the outside through gossip. The most recent urban legend paced through the streets with a scowl fixed on his face. Azure eyes glowed danger through the darkness, never revealing the coat-clad scarred body until passing under the street lights. The drunks waddled out of Dabi’s way, feeling the rolls of anger off of him from a twenty-meter radius. For once, the fire quirk wielder ignored the low bastards, never smirking as they cowered in fear nor sparking their shoes afire, laughing as they tried to put them out. No, his mind was occupied, fist clenching and unclenching in the pocket of his coat. Thoughts of past and future overwrote each other in his brain, creating a void of black in his mind. His own psyche started to turn on him again, knowing what’s about to happen would risk many lives. However, Dabi cared only about two lives-- his own and yours.

Like God gave him a sign, he passed the alleyway of a sweet memory. Running away from authority was his regular schedule since the age of 11 but he was close to getting caught one day. Caught but cunning, Dabi held you, hostage, by the neck. The little blue flame from his finger close to searing the flesh of your cheek as he backed into the dark alleyway, away from the entire police force out front. He dragged you through numerous yards before you begged him to stop, hands on your knees as you gulped for air. Glowing eyes stared at the ruby necklace that swang from your neck, almost daring him to try to take it. The second his fingertips could graze the jewel you slapped him away, grip tight on the chain and a fire in your eyes.

“You could take anything from me—shit even the pads of my shoes if you want—but I don’t want you to take this. Here, I’m sure the ring will cost more.” You glided the ring off your hand before offering it to Dabi.

Confused couldn’t even describe Dabi’s thoughts at that moment. Are you really offering a lowlife scum precious jewels? With a smile on your face?

“Are you demented?” The tilt of your lips turned down into a scowl. A haughty hmph passed your nostrils as you looked away from the criminal.

“You were stealing from Greggley’s pawn shop. The same bastard that swindles townsfolk out of their money and rats out people to the police for a living. I’d pay to see that fear on his face again when you ran off with me and his pile of stolen goods. So here’s my payment.” Dabi cautiously took the sapphire ring from your palm. The situation was ironic, he seemed more fearful than you. Cyan eyes watched as the dust on your outfit disappeared by the pats and sweeps of your hands before jumping up. You stayed rocking from the heels of your feet to the soles, eyes waiting expectantly on the chilled man to say something. Instead, his eyes bored straight into yours, deadpanned as he occasionally averted his gaze from the entrance of the deep alley, then back to you. The shouts of police guards had left from long ago; the sounds of their frantic pace went far off into the distance. Yet, you remained in this cramped space with him.

It unnerved him to no end.

“Well, your highness, your mutts went the other way to look for you. You can scurry away now,” He questioned his words. Why is he letting you go so easily? You were a perfect hostage. Just by your yelp, he could have your father in his palms, an important piece to the league’s ultimate plan. The smile on your face didn’t ease his confusion at all. His eyes burned with irritation, upset by your cheerful demeanor.

“Oi, are you fucking braindead? I said scram,” Your face dropped, forming a pout before pulling into a smile again. Dabi felt his eye twitch as you began to chuckle. His hand igniting blue flames as he stepped towards you. You put your hands up into the chilly air.

“Woah now, I’m just saying I could be of more use, Mr. Criminal.” The heat dissipated from his hand. His eyes looked as cold as marbles but within his head, he roamed over the possibilities, how and why should he trust you. Dabi was never a gambler, always a mouse wary of traps but today, he felt lucky. The once fiery hand laid out before you, staples glinting in the dim lighting.

“Dabi,” his eyes roamed over your face, noticing the crinkles at the corner of your eyes never softening, the gleam in your eyes shining more than before. You were actually happy.

“You already know my last name but that’s unimportant right now. The name’s (Y/n).”

The memory cleared away like smoke, reminding Dabi of his mission now. His hand clenched around nothing, his fist tight to relieve the searing anger in his chest. He imagined burning Shigaraki over and over, enveloping in the heat of his wrath as punishment for putting him on this mission.

Red beady eyes looked at Dabi in nonchalance, ignoring the smoke rising from his scarred hand.

“We built our whole organization on this end goal. We are one step closer to annihilating these ‘heroes’ and you’re rejecting this offer? Over some little noble mole?” the insult adding more fuel to Dabi’s rage and fire. His flames barely reached Tomura before being engulfed into another dimension thanks to Kurogiri’s interference. Unrelenting glares fixed at each other. Even then Shigaraki continued.

“I’m not saying it again. Either you do your job and save your blue-blood or they die by our hands.”

His eye pulsed; an ache coiled around his nape to his temple. His own anger throbbed in his head and blindsided his mind. He could add Shigaraki to his body count but your life, to him, was paramount. He withdrew his fire, recollecting himself before shoving his hands into his pockets. He surveyed the room, eyes scanning all the league in disdain; the others avoided his intense gaze. The gravel crunched under his heavy boots as he stomped out of the hideout.

Shigaraki’s threats echoed through Dabi’s head, anger already swelling at the thought of his red eyes as Dabi reached the edge of your house. The whirls of wind carried his coat in their stream, pulling the fabric all about. The walls of dark stone contrasted the warm yellow lights of your not-so-humble but welcoming abode. Dabi only knew the layout of your room but whenever he’s in there, there were hardly any lights from behind your bedroom door, just the occasional shuffling of the maids.

He halted his thoughts, pressing his foot against a jutted brick before hopping on to another. His movements were smooth and familiar as if he had perfected this route. He sat on the window’s stony ledge, fingers rapting against its pane, staring into the night as he waited on you to open the window panel.

Meanwhile, you were balled up in a corner, fingernails creating welts on your skin. Still, the stinging pain didn’t distract you from the taste of iron in your mouth, the phantom feeling of blunt rings on your cheek. Your silent cries shook you to your core, sharp inhales forced your weeping to stop, only for them to return again. All crying ceased once you heard knocking on your window, the same three raps then two softer taps only known to two. A familiar rhythm, one that closely relates to the song you made the criminal danced to during one night at a pub. The precious memory was unable to soothe the paranoia of your mind right now. A hitch in your breath paused all noises in your little quarter. If you stopped breathing, maybe he’d think no one was home. You ultimately stopped breathing only for harsher rapping to strike against your window.

On shaky legs, you stood up, swiping off any trails of tears and snot from your face. The cold air greeting you swung open the window for Dabi, who immediately hopped into the warm comb. He barely skimmed over your appearance before asking.

“What the fuck happened to you?” His hand came up to your swollen cheek; an obvious insignia marked the skin. You didn’t flinch away, instead, you wet your lips, pressing more into his palm. His hands were chilly from the cold outside but the contact warmed your entire body.

“I can’t do it anymore, Dabi.” A broken whisper escaped your lungs. Tears bled through your closed eyes, wetting Dabi’s thumb as he swiped a lone one away. He stood still, billions of thoughts jumbling in his mind as you bawled into his chest. Should he do this? On this night? Your well-being and the league’s plan fought for his attention. Every thought of his mission drowned by the sight of the insignia on your face.

“(Y/n), what the fuck did he do to you?” His shirt crumpled within your hands as you contemplated telling him the truth.

Nobody expected your father, an honorary Knight-Captain, to abuse his only child. It took one loose-lipped servant to say that you were seeing a commoner man in the kingdom for him to wrap his hands around your throat. You remember your body flailing, the coldness of your cheeks as tears fell from your bulging eyes. He dropped you by your mother’s cold command. As you gulped for any type of air she told you to stand. Her patience grew thin quickly as she ripped you off of the ground, your legs nearly collapsing from the force. A shroud of care she put herself under, letting her adorned knuckles skim across your cheekbones as she talked about your fate. You're being shipped off to marry the highest knight family, the Todorokis. Enjirou, commander of the Kingsguard, sought after you for his son, Natsuo Todoroki, for months. Your inappropriate actions caused your arranged marriage to arrive quicker. Her veil lifted, and in an instant, she whipped her hand across your face, the blow smacking your staggering body to the side. Their eyes entertained at your cry. She fixed her rings as she declared your fate. House arrest until the Todorokis picked up their new toy. They left you on the ground, weeping until Dabi arrived.

Stammers and hiccups escaped your lips instead of comprehensible words. His shirt crumpled under the intensity of your grip. In that time, Dabi had gathered all the information needed. The look in his eyes was unreadable as he loosened your constriction on his clothes, fingers interlacing in between your shaky digits. A shadow cast over his face as he talked to you.

“(Y/n),” your eyes dull and lost, you were wrapped up in your own severed psyche. A finger on your chin, he guided you to meet his eyes.

“Let me fix this,” It wasn’t a duel, but warfare that unfolded in his headspace as he asked, begged for your permission. You barely felt yourself nod before seeing the flame reignited in Dabi’s eyes. The smile on his face grew like a wildfire, nearly meeting the staples under his eyes. He left your numb body with a soft peck and a willful promise before walking, for the first time, out your bedroom door. Muted footsteps sounded miles away even though he left the door wide open. When did you end up on the ground, scraped knees meeting the plush of your rug, though you did not feel it? The warmth of the room dissipated from the air, goosebumps rising along your skin. Your body could only focus on one sense at a time, tuning into the sounds around you. Though muffled, you could hear the guttural screaming coming from rooms away. The cries formed into pleas before morphing back into incomprehensibility. Whether your body was protecting you from further trauma or not, your audible sense shut off only to look at the smeared blood all over your rug. Your ears never picked up on your outcry, pushing your diaphragm, but Dabi’s did.

He sprinted back to your room immediately, leaving his fires to completely consume your parents and lick at the foundations of the walls. His black coat draped over your body before he lifted you into his arms. The hungry fire now satiated, he left the same way he entered but with now, with you within his arms.

He knows what he did wrong, rubbing salt into your traumatic wounds, but he had a mission to do. He held your trembling body closer to his lithe frame. The league finally made their first step to instigating chaos but that did not matter right now. Dashing through the alleyways, he took a look into your blank eyes, cast away into another realm. The sounds of the Knights fighting against your burning house faded as he ran. He rested his forehead against yours, eyes squeezing shut as he made another promise to you.

“No one will ever tear us apart. I don’t care if this whole place burns to the ground. Just know you are the only one that matters. It’ll just be me and you at the end. Whatever it takes to get there.”

[ask-an-aussie]

Aussie Wildlife FAQ

So here's questions I'm frequently asked as both a wildlife rescuer and carer and keeper at a wildlife sanctuary. Heads up, this is a long post, I've made the questions stick out so you can easily skip through. I've tried to make it as easy to read as possible, and to find what you're after, whilst also providing lots of info.

Poison Vs Venom, what's the difference?

Well, mostly, poison just never stops killing. Like if you poison an insect, then a bird or small mammal eats that insect and they slowly get poisoned by all the poisoned insects they eat, then something eats them, like an owl, and that gets poisoned, then as it rots the poison goes into the environment, etc. Poison never dies. Venom has to be injected, so yes you can be envenomated by a dead animal, if you are stupid. Poison can be inhaled, eaten/drunk or even through touch. So if a cow is poisoned you have to dispose of the body safely, if a cow is bitten by a venomous snake, technically you can still have steak for dinner.

Are all Australian animals out to kill you?

Maybe.

They could want to kill us, I mean as a species we aren't that great. Their ability to kill us however is limited. So are all Aussie animals able to kill you? No. So we have lots of cute small mammals, like antechinus, dunnarts, pygmy possums and the like, that can bite and scratch but are very tiny bois. We even have lots of non-venomous snakes, pythons and blind snakes. Most lizards outside of Goannas can't cause too much damage. Echidna's are completely defensive, have no attack whatsoever. Lots of birds have no interest in you, unless you get near their nest. Freshwater Turtles, Little Penguins and Tawny Frogmouths all main defense is shitting really stinky shit at you. Even our venomous snakes, as long as you seek medical attention you should be fine. Considering we have the top 10 most venomous snakes in the world but average only 1 death a year that's pretty good.

But you still have lots of dangerous animals right?

Yes.

Maybe I should elaborate. Any animal is dangerous, including you, if given the right circumstances. I'm a lovely person but hurt my dog and you better run. Most animals don't want a bar of you. However, if you are a threat to them, or their babies, they will defend themselves. A lot of animals get tagged with the word 'aggressive' which I don't like, aggression is a human emotion that I've never seen in wild animals, or even pets and things. Mostly it's defensive behaviours that people read wrong. For example, the most venomous snake in the world is the Inland Taipan (found in Aust.), however the most dangerous snake in Australia is the Eastern Brown snake, less venomous but also less shy and lives in suburbia. Still, it only ever strikes at people when it feels cornered and needs to get you to back the hell off. And lets be real here, what else can they do? They can't yell and scream, they can't punch or kick. Legit their only option is to bite, and even then mostly it's a closed mouth strike to freak you out into stepping back, and most people bitten by snakes are given a 'dry bite' where no venom is injected, as they want to use it on their food not waste it on us. And 90% of snake bites that happen in Australia are people either trying to catch or kill a snake.

It's fairly simple. Don't threaten animals, don't give them a reason to be dangerous and you are fine. Crocodiles in the water? Don't swim there. Sharks around? Avoid swimming at twilight. Snake? Leave it alone. Nest with baby birds? walk away. You don't randomly show up in some strangers home and expect them not to react, so why do we expect different from animals?

What animals are on the most 'dangerous list' then? Which animals should I really avoid pissing off?

Start with the obvious. Crocodiles, venomous snakes, sharks, some jellyfish, venomous spiders, stone fish, blue ringed octopus, birds of prey (our Wedge Tailed Eagle WILL attack drones, hang-gliders and helicopters if they come into their territory) Then you've got the less obvious. Ants - like meat ants, they will swarm over you then all bite down at once. 1 bite isn't so bad, a whole colony biting you, deadly. Then there's other ants in the Myrmecia family (bull ants and the like) that are just HUGE, and have massive mandables for biting and also can sting you, and are one of the most toxic insects in the world.

Wombats - Can run at 40km/hr, skull so hard it's the only thing a Tassie Devil can't eat, able to bite your calf muscle clean off your leg, oh and they have killer booty. A hard cartilage plate in their lower back that they use to block their burrows, and if threatened can lay down and as the animal tries to get past jam their legs straight and crush the skull of a fox against the roof of their burrow, easily break a dingoes jaw or even destroy your hand.

Kangaroos - yes they box, hahaha wouldn't it be funny to box with a kangaroo. NO. Kangroos box for fun but also to defend themselves and their mob. The Alpha male is the big buff one that looks like he's on steroids. He looks like that for a reason, to defend and protect his mob. DO NOT MESS WITH ANY KANGAROOs, but really don't mess with Big Daddy (for being the alpha he gets all the ladies) Kangaroos are made for this. A punch from a Kangaroo can easily break you ribs. They can lean back on their tail and bring both legs up to kick you, easily tearing you open, which they can do with the claws on their toes, and so basically dissecting you from sternum down. Oh and if they gran you round the neck for a 'Cuddle' DUCK AND RUN. They will hold you in a kind of choke hold and then bring their legs up to kick you and basically snap you in half. Don't even mess with Wallabies man, they may be smaller but can still do damage.

Tassie Devils - are extremely shy and slower than you, like you can actually run away from them. BUT. They have the strongest bite strength compared to size of any animal. The have a PSI of 1200 and males weigh around 8 kg. For perspective, Hyenas have a PSI of 1100 and males weigh around 50kg

Brushtail Possums - They may be cuter than the American Opossums but trust me, they don't want you around. They are solitary so most people have heard them fighting of a night, screeching, shrieking, hissing, growling and making darth vadar noises. Heads up from someone who has had to rescue them from awkward places (fire-places, BBQs, closets) They are stronger than you and they will f*** you up. Even without them meaning to I've gotten injuries from my joey Brushies, they get so keen on their milk when you put it in that they climb your arm and their claws are sharper than cats. Also the sheer strength of them. I'm stronger than I look but if they are clinging on to a tree you are gonna need all your strength to get them off. The can also bite your finger clean off. And I've seen injuries from people who feed wild ones and for some reason have been late to put out the food or something and they've climbed their leg or even jumped on them - stitches were required in a few of those cases (human skin is not thick like tree bark)

What's with Magpies and swooping?

Simple, they have nests/babies and are protecting them. Australia Magpies are very smart and can recognise faces. If they think you are a threat they will try and scare you off. Just like if you're walking along with your toddler and there's a weirdo doing something strange you hold the kid tighter and closer to you and move through faster. But these guys can't just move their nests or their babies. The spot is chosen based on food availability and shelter from sun and rain, but also not being too cold. It's their spot. I've never been swooped by Magpies, other birds yes, but not Magpies. My local birds know me as the lady that cleans and fills the bird bath. Legit the Magpies sing a specific song when it needs filling to call me out to do it. So don't be a threat. If they are swooping in that area, try to avoid it or go through quickly. We used to have Plovers at my school, in the bush at the end of the oval. Never a problem. One day some kids go into the bush and stomp on their nest and eggs. After that they would swoop anyone who came close to there. So the school blocked off that end of the oval. Fair call. Wasn't the birds fault.

Why is everything named so basic?

Oh you mean the snake that's black with a red belly being balled a Red Belly Black Snake, and the tree with all the doodles on it being called a Scribbly Gum? 80% of plants and animals found in Australia are found NO WHERE ELSE. So the early Europeans had a lot of things to name and when they tried naming it themselves they would get it wrong. 2 good examples are: The Death Adder (only considered highly venomous, not deadly, and not an Adder). Also you're only likely to get bitten if you stand on it or try to pick it up. The Australian Magpie, they saw a black and white bird so it must be a magpie. Nope. Actually not in the corvidae family but in the butcherbird family - Artamidae. So their solution was to either take the Aboriginal word, for example, Quoll, Kookaburra, Koala, Quokka, Taipan. Or name it after what it looks like/sounds like/ is found Boobook Owl - makes a sound like booooo-book Squirrel Glider Eastern Water Dragon Grey Headed Flying Fox Flaky Bark Tea Tree Old man Banksia This can cause confusion though as not every brown coloured snake is a brown snake, and not all Eastern brown snakes are brown. Squirrel Gliders aren't related to squirrels. Flying foxes are bats not actual foxes that fly.

What do I do if I find injured wildlife?

Well, depends on the wildlife and where it is. If it's in a dangerous position, like the middle of a highway, don't try anything. First thing, call a wildlife rescue group, there are plenty around and they have trained people who know what to do. A quick google search should show you all you need to know, also the IFAW's Wildlife Rescue App will identify the closest group to you.

If it's a snake, adult wombat or kangaroo, or any other animal that can cause you serious injury, leave it be. The wildlife rescuers you call can give you basic info on how to help but mostly calling them is the main thing.

If it's something smaller, like a young animal or glider or baby bird and you are able to put it into a cardboard box that will be perfect. The 3 main things injured/ill wildlife need are warmth, dark and quiet. You don't need to worry about food or water. The rescuers will organise that. If you give food or water to an animal in shock you can cause more damage.

THE BEST THING IS TO DO NOTHING. I know this sounds stupid. But so many problems can occur from people who don't know what they are doing helping out. You know what they say about good intentions. For example, picking up a Koala like you would pick up a human child (under the armpits, around the chest) you could actually break their ribs. Also so many Koalas end up needing vet care during heat waves because people pour water into their mouths - they can get pneumonia as the water goes in too fast, it is not a natural way for them to drink. You can also get yourself injured or make the animals injuries worse. I have seen Kangaroos with broken legs get up and try to hop away from people. I have seen severe scratches on other people because they tried to pick up an animal.

What diseases can wildlife give me?

Well. I only know about Australian wildlife, and it's very different to other parts of the world. If you get a bad bite or scratch from wildlife you should see your doctor ASAP, get the wound cleaned properly and make sure your tetanus is up to date (same as if a pet gives you a bad bite or scratch).

There aren't that many Zoonosis that are around in Australia that are easy to catch. Mostly you have to be dealing directly with sick wildlife to get them.

The main thing is Australian Bat Lyssavirus. ABL for short. Now our bats can carry it. About 1 in 1000 bats may have it and you HAVE to be bitten or scratched for it to be transmitted to you. If you are bitten or scratched by a bat your chance is 0.1% of getting ABL but it is related to Rabies, so head straight to hospital for treatment. If you don't touch a bat you won't get bitten or scratched and so your chance of getting it is 0. Hendra is the other virus our bats carry, however it has to go through a horse before it mutates enough for humans to get it.

Basically it's only when you get involved with wildlife that your risk of getting a disease from them is higher than VERY unlikely. If you happen to help some wildlife, and you maybe wrap them in a towel or jumper, even if they urinate on it. You can just chuck it in the wash (I usually add a little extra disinfectant) and it will be fine. Treat it the same as if a pet had used it or urinated on it.

What's some Good Wildlife Apps to have?

Well, there's so many out there now hey? Here's some that I've found handy or know people that use. WomSAT EchidnaCSI PlatypusSPOT are all for recording sightings of these animals (wombats/echidnas/platypus) this helps researches track where they are and how they are going which means we can help them more as well. OzAtlas - record a sighting of anything Australian, animal, plant, fungus, insect. FrogID - need to identify a frog? This is the app for you. Use photos or sound recordings, Field Guide to *insert state/territory* Fauna - Have a field guide on you wherever you are without having to carry a book. Seek by inaturalist - Helps you identify any animals, plants, insect, fungus. IFAW Wildlife Rescue - wildlife rescue app (currently for NSW only but soon expanding) will give you advice on what to do and put you into contact with the local wildlife rescue groups.

Besides Cats and Foxes, what other invasive species have you got that cause problems?

First up, any invasive species causes a problem. In Tasmania they have issues with Sugar Gliders, because they are not naturally found there and use up tree hollows that other animals need. Invasive species cause competition for food, water and shelter. They can also bring in diseases that didn't exist in Australia before and that our natives have no defence against (like cats and Toxoplasmosis) Here's a quick list of invasive animal species in Australia. Cats, dogs, foxes, pigs, water buffalo, ferrets rabbits, horses/brumbies, goats, camels, Cane Toad, European Honey Bee, Common Myna bird, deer, donkey, common starling, common pigeon, black rat, brown rat.

There's more, there's reptiles, and weeds and fish but those guys ^ are the main ones that cause problems.

I am an animal lover but unless we get rid of these animals you loose more in the long run. I'm 100% against use of poisons, I prefer having people hunt them to be honest. If you know what you are doing and have the right equipment you can give them a quick, painless death. To give you an idea how bad invasives are:

The introduction of the rabbit is the main cause the Lesser Bilby became extinct.

The introduction of cats and toxoplasmosis is believed to be the main reason Eastern Quolls became extinct on mainland Australia

Rats led directly to the extinction of 5 of Lord Howe Island's bird species

30% of our land snakes and Goannas are at risk as Cane Toads are rapidly spreading and eat their eggs.

The Common Myna Bird is the 2nd greatest threat to Australian native birds (habitat loss being the 1st)

The fox population has been estimated at 72 million and consume around 190 million birds a year

There's an estimated 23 million wild pigs/boars and an estimated 2.6 million goats - all eating whatever they come across.

How can I help Australian Wildlife?

There's the stuff we already know, like reduce/reuse/recycle and don't litter. But there's other things you may not know about.

Turn off lights at night - any lights that you don't need, don't have them on, especially if they are outside. Lots of animals require insects in their diets, particularly moths, which can be distracted by lights. Zoos Victoria have launched educational stuff for this https://youtu.be/ZAcL4FKPtHw

Learn about them - It's not hard, there's multiple ways you can do it. There's books, tv shows, pod casts, you can follow sanctuaries and other people who work with wildlife on social media. Planting flora that's native to your area is great as different plants can attract different animals and it's much lower maintenance, being made for that environment. You can even find cool life-hacks like Lemon Scented Tea-Tree doesn't just smell amazing and feed lots of wildlife, it keeps the mozzies away! There's different kinds of nesting boxes out there specific to different species that you can put up to help 'foster' that species. You can even become friends with your local Magpies! Mine know me as the lady who cleans and fills the bird bath and all I had to do was whistle to them when I was done and now they are really chill around me and I get to watch their antics. Debunk Myths! - In learning about wildlife you can debunk lots of myths like: a mother bird won't take it's chick back if you've touched it (fake news!) or that snakes dislocate their jaw to swallow their prey (that would be soooo painful!)

Put out water - have a bird bath and keep it clean and full. Or if you don't have one or want to get one just put water out on hot days. Summer's getting hotter and hotter and our animals really suffer. So put out a nice pot or container of water. Don't forget to put a rock or a stick in it if it's a slippery surface (like plastic or metal) so that little animals and bugs don't fall in and drown, and keep it out of the sun if it's likely to heat up.

Check roadkill - it's not pleasant but needs to be done. Don't do it if it's a motorway or somewhere dangerous, but if you can PLEASE do. Roadkill sometimes looks dead but isn't and you don't want them laying there suffering. They may have pouch young if they are a marsupial or young nearby that will need care without their parent. And where possible get it off the road. Species like Tasmanian Devils, Goannas and Wedge Tailed Eagles feed on roadkill and can then end up as roadkill themselves. Even if you have to drag it, it's dead and not gonna feel any more pain. 100% of people I have attended a rescue for who have called because they stopped and found a joey or young in a pouch or hiding nearby have not regretted their decision at all. Even if they were late for work, they saved a life and it was worth it.

Avoid using poisons - insecticides, pesticides, snail bait and straight up rat poison. Like mentioned in POISON VS VENOM, it just keeps killing. There are so many other options out there and they aren't hard to find. There's stuff on the internet but also at Bunnings I've found more environmentally sound options that use Tea Tree oils and Eucalyptus instead and work just as well.

Don't feed them! - Most Aussie animals are gluten and lactose intolerant. BREAD IS REALLY BAD! and if not eaten it gets mouldy and causes disease. Putting out bird seed is the number 1 problem when we talk 'feeding wildlife'. WHY?

The 'wild birdseed' that you buy in shops isn't actually for wild birds. JUST LOOK AT IT, you don't see those seeds growing out in the wild. The main seed wild birds eat are Bottle-brush, She-oaks, Banksias, Wattle and Eucalypts. None of those are found in these bags of seed.

Even for seed eaters that seed you buy is too fatty and unbalanced

For those that don't usually eat seed, like Lorikeets, eating the seed destroys the specialised bristles on their tongues that they need to eat their natural food - nectar and pollen.

If you don't keep it clean you will spread diseases, especially psittacosis (beak and feather) for which there is no cure just a slow, drawn out death. You can also catch it and end up in hospital.

You cause an imbalance. Animals breed based on food availability, if you make food available they will breed but there might not be enough space or trees available and you create more competition and also they end up relying on you and if you go on holiday or anything they can die without that food.

You can cause health issues in other animals. Possums love bird seed but it makes them fat, making it harder for them to escape predators.

You will be feeding non-natives. For example, the Common Myna bird cannot survive on wild plants, but if there is a food source around they can. Got rid of Common Mynas in my neighbourhood by convincing my neighbours to stop putting out bird seed.

RATS LOVE BIRD SEED. Specially feral rats. Mice also love bird seed.

You make a predator hot-spot. It won't take long for predators to realised animals they prey on visit your feeding station and they will come. The most common predator I find around bird seed? Snakes. Snakes love rats and mice, rats and mice love bird seed. You do the maths.

If you want to feed them just do some research and plant trees that are food for them.

How many species are endangered?

Sadly, it's almost quicker to list what's NOT endangered in Australia.

That's hard to say as there is different ways they can be endangered. In one area they may be common, but in another they could be disappearing. You can have Endangered lists at different levels; local, state, national and international.

But the most used list is the International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Red List of Threatened Species has evolved to become the world’s most comprehensive information source on the global extinction risk status of animal, fungus and plant species. AKA the IUNC Red List

Here's a bit of a breakdown: EXTINCT 26 mammals 7 birds 4 amphibians CRITICALLY ENDANGERED 7 mammals 8 birds 15 amphibians 13 reptiles ENDANGERED 18 mammals 29 birds 18 amphibians 21 Reptiles VULNERABLE 51 mammals 40 birds 23 amphibians 35 reptiles NEAR THREATENED 43 mammals 37 birds 9 amphibians 21 reptiles

Then there's the "data deficient" category where they really just don't have the info. 10 mammals 11 amphibians 42 reptiles

I will continue to update this post as I think of other things. Feel free to send me any questions you have

[queenof-literature]

Goron

Hi all! This is the forth story in my Wild’s Story Hour series, which was originally requests that were sent in, and soon turned into its own series! I’ve been writing this on and off for a few months now, so I’m so happy to post it.

A little note: My Tumblr has been very wonky lately. I’m not sure about y’all, but every time I search for recent in the Linked Universe tag I get spammed with completely random tags not even related to the point where I can’t even see LU content. This is the only tag that’s like this for me. So please know that I’m not ignoring anyone, it’s just been quite laggy and slow for me to get notifications as well.

AO3 Link

Thank you all for your continued support, and I hope you enjoy!

"Thanks for dinner Wild!" Hyrule exclaimed before digging in. Wild heard similar sentiments as he passed out mushroom and veggie rice balls, with some fruit crepes on the side. An odd combination, but that’s apparently what happened when you traveled with a group of eight others. In Twilight’s Hyrule they had found a relatively safe and secluded place for the evening before the sun had begun to set, so Wild took the extra time to put more effort into dinner. The others used to tell him that he didn't need to put so much effort into dinner, they were fine with rations and quick meals over a fire. However after they learned that cooking was what Wild would consider a passion, they allowed themselves to be fed without complaint. If Wild enjoyed it, who were they to stop him. The delicious food was certainly a bonus.

After thanking Wild the group settled around the fire, relaxing into the evening lull Wild had begun to find comforting long ago. He was never expected to talk, he could just sit in peace and listen. And if he chose to talk, which was becoming more frequent as time went on, the others always listened. 

But after the… incident when Wild sang Kass' song, no one had asked him to tell anymore stories. After the first night of 'Wild's Story Hour' as Hyrule called it, Wind would often jump on his back and ask questions about his Hyrule. If Wind was anything, he was curious. That trait seemed to be amped up since Wild's Hyrule also had Rito and Koroks. Now though, Wind bit his tongue and kept quiet.

Wild didn't want to admit that he missed it.

He never thought he would miss talking, especially telling an entire story over a campfire. Talking used to feel like giving pieces of himself away, and if he gave too much he would be empty. Now he felt relieved every time he talked about his adventure. Wild loved seeing his brothers’ reactions to his tales, and the more he talked the more weight was lifted off him. That must have been what Warriors was talking about when he said that sometimes it helped to talk to others.

Wild missed it, but he didn't want to bring it up. It was embarrassing, and he didn't want the others to feel forced to listen to him. He was trying to get rid of that mentality but it was hard.

Wind felt guilty too, Wild could tell. Wild wasn't sure the little pirate had ever seen Wild so far gone in panic and anger. He hated that any of them saw him like that, let alone Wind. It wasn't the little pirate's fault, he didn't know that bringing it up would cause Wild's panic, not even Wild himself knew. It hadn't affected their friendship, but Wild didn't want Wind to feel uncomfortable around him at all. 

Before he could cucco out, Wild signed for Wind to sit with him when he could. Wind smiled and nodded, quickly finishing his conversation with Four before making his way over.

"Yes, Wild?" Wind asked eagerly, but Wild could still see the apprehension under the surface.

"Are you okay?" Wild asked, skipping the small talk he wasn't good at. 

"Of course! Why?" Wild resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Getting Wind, or any of the Links, to admit something was wrong was like pulling teeth. Although, Wild guessed he didn't have much room to talk…

"You've seemed upset lately. Did I do something?" Wild once again got straight to the point. If Wild did anything to upset the younger, he wanted to fix it. And he wanted to fix it now.

"What? Of course not, Wild! I'm sorry I made you think that. It's just… I feel bad I guess.” Wind sighed out, his shoulders slumping out of his fake eagerness. Wild winced slightly, knowing what Wind was talking about. Wild had one of his… attacks, in front of everyone. It started innocently enough, with Wind being curious about a song. It ended with Wild yelling and sobbing about his failures a century ago. 

“That wasn’t your fault.” Wild stated firmly. “You didn’t know what was going to happen. No one did, not even me.” Wild trailed off slightly at the last part. Wind’s face had perked up slightly, but he didn’t look completely convinced. 

“Wind.” Wild said gently, getting the younger’s attention. “I wouldn’t have sung if I didn’t want to.” Wild paused before admitting the next part, slightly embarrassed. “I like talking about my adventure. It feels nice.” Wild felt his ears turn red, but Wind didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he looked happier than he had in days.

“So… everything is okay? Do you forgive me?” Wind asked hopefully.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” Wild reassured. “Of course everything is okay.” 

“Can I…” Wind trailed off from his question, but Wild knew what was going to be asked, and he simply nodded and smirked, opening his arms slightly. Wild caught a flash of Wind’s face, a large beaming grim, before a body launched into his arms from across the log, squeezing the life out of him. Wild squeezed just as hard back, thankful that the matter was behind them. Wild could feel eyes on them, and turned to meet the mirthful gazes of his companions. Wild simply glared at them, warning them not to say anything. This was between him and Wind. But the other Links were simply thankful everything was all right. 

“Hey Wild?” Wind’s muffled voice rose from Wild’s chest.

“Hm?” Wild hummed, biting back a smile.

“Do you ever wanna tell another story for us? It’s okay if you say no.” Wind asked into Wild’s tunic. Wind used to bite back on his hugs and physical touches, afraid it would be seen as childish. But after it became more common around camp, and after the other Links understood that Wind simply came from a home where hugs were a common display of affection, Wind didn't feel the need to hide it anymore.

“Yeah, anytime.” Wild smiled.

“Now?” Wind questioned hesitantly.

“Sure.” Wild confirmed, searching through good memories of his adventure. Like an arrow, Wind launched off Wild’s chest, and Wild shoved down his disappointment at the loss of warmth.

“Guys! Shush!” Wind yelled, a hush falling over the camp besides a few grumbles about being interrupted. “Wild’s gonna tell a story!” He shouted in excitement, ignoring Wild’s shocked face. By now, Wind really meant right now.

“Did you inform Wild of this?” Legend asked, smirking at Wild’s shocked face.

“Of course! I asked him!” Wind scolded, turning back around and sitting on his and Wild’s shared log, ignoring Legend rolling his eyes. Wild saw Twilight shoot a look over the fire, silently asking if this was truly alright. Wild gave him a reassuring look and a nod. The camp was once again quiet as they all looked to Wild in interest.

“Uhh. What should I talk about?” Wild questioned awkwardly. It was always so awkward at the start.

“You always ask that, talk about whatever you want.” Legend crossed his arms, and lowered himself to the ground, back against the log.

“There’s two divine beasts left. You can talk about one of those?” Hyrule spoke up beside Legend. 

“Okay, Gorons?” Wild suggested. The Gorons were a fun people to be around, and if Wild was honest, he wasn’t ready to touch on the subject on the Zora quite yet. That was too close to Mipha. Mipha wasn’t necessarily a secret, but it was a topic he was still sore about.

“Gorons sound fun. Don’t we all have Gorons in our Hyrule?” Four questioned, receiving nods and noises of confirmation. 

“Didn’t Twilight wrestle them?” Sky questioned, receiving blank looks from the others.

“I’m sorry Twilight what?” Warriors’ shocked expression almost sent Wild into a fit of laughter. He couldn’t blame the man though, Wild was just as surprised when Twilight told him about his adventure with the Gorons. 

“And you didn’t tell me?” Wind’s cried in betrayal. 

“Uhh, I needed my iron boots to do it.” Twilight tried to soothe the outbreak of awe.

“That doesn’t matter with Gorons. Those make you heavier, even someone with above-average strength couldn’t beat a Goron with iron boots.” Four smirked from beside Sky, who was watching the chaos he caused unfold. 

“I told y’all I learned how to wrestle in my village!” Twilight shouted with no heat. 

“You didn’t tell us you wrestled a Goron!” Wind yelled back. 

“He also burned a building down.” Time spoke up, biting back a smile at Twilight’s betrayed expression.

“I told you that in confidence!” Twilight yelled. 

“Wait and you give me shit for lighting things on fire?” Wild cried out. Now this was the first he had heard of that. 

“You do it for fun!” Twilight tried to defend himself through the uproarious laughter. 

“Why did you do it then?” Wild questioned. 

“That’s not important!” Twilight huffed. 

“Maybe we should call you Wild.” Legend joked.

“Hey don’t you dare-” Twilight began before being interrupted by Four.

“As entertaining as this is, I think Wild was going to tell a story.” He reminded.

“Yeah! Wild talk about the Gorons!” Wind ceased glaring at Twilight in favor of looking at Wild. 

“Okay, okay.” Wild said after he was done laughing. “Well you guys know my Death Mountain is really hot with all the lava.”

“Understatement.” Warriors mumbled.

“So I had to pick up some elixirs from Foothill stables and drink them on the way up." Wild started, relaxing into his story as he went.

“Don’t your elixirs only last a couple of hours?” Hyrule titled his head.

“Yeah, why?” Wild questioned. 

“That looks like a long and rocky road. What, did you just run through the whole domain?” Hyrule joked, pausing when he saw Wild bite his lip. “Wild!” Hyrule yelled in realization.

"What? I didn't have any other choice! I had plenty of elixirs!" Wild defended.

“What if you ran out?” Four chided with a snort.

“Then I’d teleport away.” Wild shot back.

“Don’t extreme temperatures affect your slate sometimes?” Warriors smirked. 

“I… would deal with that when I got there.” Wild huffed at the laughter that came from the others.

“Yeah a lot of your plans involve that.” Legend mumbled.

“Anyway.” Wild interrupted before the conversation could lead to discussing his battle tactics. “I kept running up the path and there were a lot of fire monsters like moblins, and keese and chuchus-” Wild continued.

“Don’t the chuchus in your Hyrule explode?” Hyrule asked once again, eyes shining in excitement. 

“Yeah! If I throw bombs at them then I can make a huge explosion! Especially the big ones.” Wild confirmed with a grin.

“No, you two are not having a competition of who can make a bigger explosion when we get to Wild’s Hyrule again.” Time already knew where this would lead. It was best to nip it in the bud now.

“Awe.” Wild and Hyrule groaned. 

“We never get to do anything.” Wild mumbled with a pout.

“You were saying?” Time lifted an eyebrow. Wild huffed once more before continuing his story. 

“Right. It was a long walk and of course I wasn’t going to risk taking a horse. There were a lot of cliffs along the path and since I didn’t have much time I took the straight path. Then I accidently ran into a Talus!” Wild grinned at the rest of the group’s groans. They had some run-ins with the larger monsters in Wild’s Hyrule, and while they all had tough enemies, Wild’s had some of the largest monsters that were considered relatively common.

“Volcanos have molten rock, how did you miss it?” Warriors joked.

“It was molten rock!” Wild defended. “It blended in perfectly.”

“Wait wait wait.” Four waved his hands. “Your Taluses are also made of magma and volcanic rock?”

“Yep.” Wild confirmed, laughing slightly at the various looks of surprise the Links always held when they learned of new monsters their own Hyrules didn’t have. The other heroes had been near Eldin, but not quite near Goron City enough to see an Igneo Talus. Hopefully they were never dropped off near Death Mountain. Wild didn’t really want to wake up on fire.

“Are there ice and electric ones too.” Legend groaned.

“Ice ones.” Wild answered. “Those ones are really hard to see.”

“Ugh, remind me to watch my step.” Legend rolled his eyes.

“Will do.” Wild deadpanned. “Luckily I had some ice arrows so it was okay. Eventually I made it to the Southern Mine. That’s where the Goron mine for ore!" Wild explained. "I even met another Hylian there! He had some of the Flamebreaker Armor that you get in Goron City.” Wild had shown the group his Flamebreaker Armor before, and some had even tried it on, including Four.

“Oh? Did you seduce this Hylian for clothes as well?” Warriors raised an eyebrow.

“No I did not!” Wild crossed his arms, glaring at the rest of the now laughing heroes. “I’ll never live that down will I?”

“Nope.” Warriors and Legend smirked at Wild’s glare. 

“I asked if I could buy it, since he was heading down anyway.” Wild spoke over the chuckling Links. “He said he would give it to me if I caught him 10 fireproof lizards so he could make elixirs. I saw a bunch of lizards while running up so I caught enough.” The rest of the group nodded, they too had to do some… irregular things for important items.

“How do you catch that many lizards that fast?” Wind tilted his head. “Aren’t they quick?”

“Oh yeah. If you’re not careful they’ll scurry away and bury themselves in the mountain side or under rock. I had to crouch and hop around.” Wind laughed at the image of Wild moving around like that. 

This was nice.

“Is Goron City far away from the Southern Mine?” Sky asked.

“It’s not too far, but after I got a part of the armor and started approaching the city, Vah Rudania, Daruk’s divine beast, was circling Death Mountain and started launching giant fireballs so I had to dodge them and sprint up to the city.”

“Giant fireballs? Why would the beast attack you?” Hyrule asked. 

“Well I’m not sure if Rudania meant to do it since it was circling the volcano, but Rudania was terrorizing Goron City like Medoh was terrorizing the Rito, so I think it was because of the Calamity.” Wild hummed in thought.

“They were infected with… malice, right?” Four questioned, remembering Wild’s pictures of the large pool of intimidating… something. It was apparently a manifestation of the Calamity, and Wild had said it burned whenever he touched it, especially with the Master Sword in hand. Four remembered even the pool looked evil. Pure black roots took hold of whatever was around it, mixed in with deep shades of reds and purples. Wild also told him there was an odd sound it made that set him on edge.

“As far as I know.” Wild nodded, thinking back to the pools of malice in all the Divine Beasts. “Back 100 years ago,” The group perked up in both excitement and worry. It was rare Wild talked about 100 years ago. Both because he couldn’t remember it, and because it had pained him for so long. “The other champions rushed to their Divine Beasts. The plan was I would protect Zelda, and return to defeat Ganon after the Divine Beasts weakened them. Zelda wanted to come with me, since she still believed there was a chance to awaken her power. She always pushed herself so hard…” Wild trailed off for a moment, staring into the fire. Twilight almost began to rise, believing Wild to have slipped into another memory, but Wild shook himself out of it quickly. “Help never came. The Divine Beasts were taken over by malice, and while they piloted themselves the champions were killed by Blights that Ganon had created to directly match their strength and exploit it. And well… you all know how the story ends.” There was a heavy silence, no one knowing what to say, including Wild. Wind scooted over on the log and leaned against Wild gently, showing his silent support. Wild smiled down at him, then at the others around the fire.

“It’s okay.” Wild told them. “Let’s just keep talking about the Gorons?” He proposed.

“Cub…” Time started, not quite knowing how to get his message across. “Talk about whatever you want to. Anytime.” Time finished, hoping Wild knew what he meant, and judging by the smile he did. 

“Thanks, Old Man.” Wild said earnestly, thankful for the comfortable warmth at his side.

“Well um…” Wild began, thinking about where he left off. He appreciated that everyone waited to let him think, and didn’t interrupt him. “I finally made it to the city. Since it’s made from the materials they have up there it’s made up of a lot of rock and metals, but it’s still great to look at! They work hard on their signs outside their shops and the children always roll across the bridges over lava. There’s also a whole bunch of statues carved into the mountains.” Wild made large gestures solely with his left arm, since his right was still held captive by Wind. 

Time leaned his chin into his hand. It was always interesting to hear about the boys’ Hyrules from their perspectives. Some Hyrules like Wild’s had very little to no government, and Time enjoyed hearing how different civilizations had gotten by. 

“I got to meet with their leader, um, the ‘Boss’ of the Gorons. His name is Bludo. He’s really grumpy, and he has a bad back. He told me that him and someone named Yunobo would use cannons to scare off Rudania-”

“You have cannons too?” Wind looked up, always excited to hear how similar his and Wild’s Hyrules could be.

“Mhm!” Wild nodded. “Do you all not?”

“I had air cannons mostly.” Four spoke up, among some murmurs of confirmation among half the Links. It seems Time, Warriors, and Hyrule didn’t have cannons in their Hyrules.

“Since his back was bad I had to go find Yunobo, who disappeared after running an errand for Bludo to get medicine for his back.” Wild continued after briefly explaining how cannons work. “I just had to follow the path up to the Abandoned North Mine. Since Rudania started terrorizing them and monsters infested they stopped using that one as much. There was a Goron watching the area and he told me to not touch the Boss’ cannons.”

“And let me guess you touched the cannons right away didn’t you?” Sky asked, clearly amused.

“Yes I did. There was one right behind him.” Twilight let out a snort, quickly trying to muffle his laughter at Wild’s playful glare. Time too, was greatly amused by Wild’s antics, although his mind wandered a bit. All of these names for the Divine Beast’s names always sounded so familiar. Was it possible Wild too was a part of Time’s hero line? His Hyrule was far larger than the others, though. He wouldn’t be surprised if Wild was in a timeline of his own. Or perhaps somehow the land had changed and Wild was just far, far into the future. Time shook his head slightly and tried to tune back in. He really needed to stop trying to understand how complex time and time travel was.

“The cannons are so fun up there! I could roll my round bombs into them, and they had enough power to blow up a whole monster camp.” As Wild rambled on about all the ways he could use his bombs around Death Mountain, including cannons and carts, his eyes practically sparkled.

“I finally found Yunobo.” Wild got back on track with his story. “He was trapped in a cave-in and I got to use the cannons to get him out. When I went to check on him, he had some sort of orange shield surrounding him, and he was really timid.” Twilight mused on that for a moment. That sounded like how Wild described one of his champion powers.

“I had to run back to Bludo after that, and he told me about Daruk. I looked up at the stature of him and I finally remembered him, at least a little bit.” Wild had a small smile on his face.

“What was he like?” Hyrule questioned. 

“He was really kind, as far as I could tell. He joked around with me a lot and he didn’t even care that I never answered. He said he would protect Hyrule to his death.” Wild’s smile turned bittersweet. “I think he always forgot I wasn’t a Goron, or he didn’t care, he would smack my back hard enough to send me flying.” Wild chuckled lightly. 

He seemed to be fond of Daruk 100 years ago. Daruk appeared to understand how much pressure was crushing down on Wild, yet he never showed pity or disdain. He even teased him about it. Wild could remember a faint feeling of excitement when being told he would be seeing Daruk’s progress, so he assumed the Link of 100 years ago enjoyed his time among the Gorons, no matter how short it was. 

“Awe yes I remember that well. I distinctly remember running away screaming when the Gorons wanted to thank me for helping them.” The camp cackled at the image of a younger Time running away and screaming.

“Bludo asked me to find Yunobo again, since his back was still hurting him.”

“Good to know everyone in every Hyrule is so needy.” The veteren scoffed.

“Turns out that Yunobo works with Bludo because of his powers he got from Daruk, the forcefield I was talking about. Yunobo hops in a giant cannon along Death Mountain, and Bludo launches him at Rudania.” Wild explained.

“That… sounds dangerous.” Sky laughed a little.

“Yeah… but Daruk’s shield is indestructible! Only problem was the guardian sentries surrounding the mountain.” 

“The what?” Wind raised his head from Wild’s shoulder to look at the older boy.

“Rudania sent them to guard the area once we finally arrived at the base of Death Mountain.” Wind nodded and plopped his head back onto Wild’s shoulder, no one daring to tease either of them, even in good fun. “If they caught me with their lights, they would send magma bombs right onto the path!”

“And how do you know that? Did you get caught?” Warriors asked, slightly surprised Wild would get caught. He could be quite sneaky when he wanted to be.

“Well I was curious…”

“Wild!” Warriors pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I ran back to the base after I tested it and Yunobo had his shield!” Wild defended against the groans and muffled laughs. “Besides I was about to launch someone out of a cannon I wanted to know what we were up against. I avoided the sentries the rest of the time, and I had to whistle for Yunobo to stop and go, and there were some Moblins on the way up.” The rest of the group could imagine that climbing Death Mountain, especially one as large as Wild, while avoiding sentries, fighting monsters, and whistling for someone to stop and go would be tedious. 

“Everytime I fired Yunobo from the cannon Rudania fled further around the volcano, and we made it all the way to the top!”

“Did you set off anymore sentries?” Twilight questioned.

“No!” Wild frowned. “I’m not completely reckless you know!” Wild stated, not appreciating the silence that followed his statement. “I’ll have you know I made it all the way to the top!”

“And how did you get into Vah Rudania?” Time raised an eyebrow.

“I…” Wild started boldly, before realizing exactly how he got into the Divine Beast.

“You what.” Twilight narrowed his eyes.

“I… jumped.” Wild shrugged the shoulder Wind wasn’t resting his head on. “Once I got into-”

“You jumped where.” Time smirked. That bastard, he knew something was up and he was gonna sic Twilight on him! Wild would find a way to  get revenge later.

“Vah Rudania was in the middle of Death Mountain so I used my paraglider-” Wild once again tried to brush this portion of the story off.

“You jumped into the middle of an active volcano?” Four cackled, the first one to understand what Wild was saying and showing an odd lack of restraint.

“Wild.” Twilight chided in ‘that voice’.

“Don’t ‘Wild’ me you lit a building on fire!” Wild defended.

“See Time! This is why I didn’t want you to tell them!”

“How did you know your paraglider wouldn’t burn up?” Warriors lips quivered under the strain of covering a grin.

“I would deal with that when I got there!” Wild claimed once again, trying not to focus on the slight flaws in his argument.

“How? How would you deal with that?” Legend threw his hands up at his friend’s stupidity.

“I don't know Legend. I never got there so I never had to deal with it, since it turned out fine.”

“What happened next?” Hyrule asked, covering for Wild and moving the conversation forward. Wild held back a fond smirk, he’d have to thank Hyrule later.

“Glad you asked, Hyrule!” Wild ignored any other questions. “I heard Daruk’s voice telling me I had to go find the terminal as usual, but this time inside the Divine Beast was pitch black.” The group had finally stopped asking questions and started listening to the story with interest.

“I had to get rid of pools of malice by shooting the eyes, and I had to light some areas up. Once I reached the terminal there were some places that opened up so it was lit up again.”

“Did this one rotate like the other Divine Beasts?” Legend asked from his place against his log. 

“Yeah I could control it with my slate like the other ones. There were all kinds of puzzles like the last beast, like this one where I had to light my arrow with blue flame and shoot it through a hole in the door, then-”

The rest of the Links listened intently  as Wild went into the intricate details of the different puzzles within the beast. They were always interested to hear both about the Sheikah technology of Wild’s world, and how he had to use what was available to him to solve them. As much as they teased Wild for being stupid and reckless, he really was intelligent, espeically when it came to logic and puzzles. Twilight remembered how some markets in his Hyrule had little puzzles made of wood,each one requiring moving certain pieces to unlock different parts. Twilight had never been particularly interested in them, but he wondered if Wild would be, if Twilight found one complicated enough. He’d have to get away from the group and find one whenever they ended up near one of his markets. Perhaps even Four and Sky would be interested in getting their hands on them and taking them apart.

“-and I finally got to the last terminal and unlocked it.” Wild continued, barely pausing to breathe. The group wasn’t sure if he was aware of how much he was talking, or how rapidly, but they didn’t dare interrupt. “Fireblight Ganon manifested, and had the power to throw huge fireballs. But he had to suck in everything around to create them. So I threw my bombs into his mouth and blew them up. Other than that, I just had to get up close.” Wild described the fight in an almost casual sense, even though it seemed these blights were pieces of Ganon himself. It seemed some blights were far easier than others. 

“When Daruk appeared, I still only had one memory of him, but he seemed as kind as he had been in my memory.” Wild had a small smile. “After freeing the beast I got teleported back to Goron City, and Vah Rudania took its position against the Calamity alongside, at the time, the Zora domain’s beast.” Wild explained. “Bludo thanked me, even though he hadn’t really understood what I did. I said goodbye to Yunobo, and, uh, that was that.” Wild ended his story as awkward as always, wincing at his own words. His throat, still unused to talking so much for such a long amount of time, felt as though he had swallowed sand.

“Thanks for the story, Wild!” Wild looked down at the sailor, something shining in the younger’s eyes he couldn’t quite place. 

“Yeah! I always like hearing about how your guys’ kingdoms compare to mine.” Sky smiled, kindly shuffling and reaching over, handing Wild his water pouch. How he knew Wild needed it, or when he even got a hold of it, Wild would never know. Wild nodded in thanks and began sipping at the water, resisting the urge to chug it all in one gulp, as everyone’s voices blended slightly, creating a warm atmosphere.

The group continued to discuss different topics, going off on different tangents relating to Gorons and their Hyrules, all of which Wild was perfectly content to just listen, occasionally answering questions directed at him.

With the warm weight against his shoulder, and the comfortable but lively chatter surrounding him, Wild allowed himself to just exist within the moment, feeling himself relax further.

“Hey Wild?” Wild felt the head against his shoulder stir, and Wild looked down to meet a fellow set of blue eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for the story.” A relaxed but genuine smile reached Wind’s expressive face.

“No, Wind. Thank you.”

~~~ 

Very minor spoiler for Age of Calamity: The fact that BOTW/AOC Link canonically eats rocks is beautiful to me.

Wild loves puzzles, change my mind.

I like to write Wild how I play video games in general, which is just screwing around and seeing what happens.

I’m sorry if I get anything wrong about other Hyrules. I’ve played a good amount of the Zelda games but it’s been a long time since not a lot of them are on consoles I have :(

[bubblegumbeech]

A Small Town Greeting

Day six Ectoberhaunt: Witching Hour vs Twilight

AO3

Crossover between Danny Phantom and my OC series “The Town of Witch Hour”

Danny walked into the cluttered little antique shop, it was small but tightly packed and Danny actually struggled to find his way to the checkout desk, the only place that seemed to have a living person.

Said living person was a middle aged Chinese man with badly bleached hair, a dozen piercings and only partially groomed stubble, kicked back with his ratty sneakers on the corner of the counter reading a magazine Danny had never seen before that said things like “Haunting Hoodlums! Children at the Museum After Dark and Why They Aren’t What You Think“ and “Twelve Teenagers Still Missing in Wake of ‘Witch’s House’ Discovery“ on the cover. 

He looked up at  Danny’s approach just once before going back to his magazine. “Read the sign kid.” He pointed at the wall behind him where someone with terrible handwriting had clearly written a list of rules on a hanging dry erase board:

No Haunting the Antiques or with the Antiques until you take them home No Cursing the Antiques before you buy them. No Possessing the Antiques!!!! I WILL be Watching!! If you Break something You’re Buying it     And you’re also dealing with whatever happens next it's not my problem The Porcelain Doll in a Japanese Kimono is NOT for Sale Stop FUCKING asking. I’m NOT Japanese if you say “Konichiwa” to me I’ll kill you I know I look like famous Billionaire Lee Mai-Shou I don’t need to keep hearing about him     I’m cooler than him and I have better style

“Loitering okay?” Danny asked, reading through the oddly specific list. 

The man nodded, “it’s a small town, I’d never get any company if I kicked out all the window shoppers.”

“Huh.”

“But,” the man slapped the spine of his magazine on the corner of the counter, and looked straight at him. His eyes were a dark hazel that flashed gold in the light, “you leave out that door walking just the way you came in. No hiding in any mirrors or possessing any paintings. It's hard enough to sell old shit in a town like this. I don’t need more on my record.” 

Danny kinda just stilled. Was this his usual spiel? Or did he recognize something off about Danny already? It would be frustrating if he had, but it would also be completely par for the course in this damn town so far. 

He decided it didn’t really matter though, because even if he’d already been outed the guy wasn’t actively pointing an ecto-weapon at him and seemed to be overall pretty chill. “I’m looking for something specific-”

“We don’t have specific things,” the man interrupted, “we have random things. Its an Antique Store think fancy garage sale. If you’re looking for specific things try Amazon.”

“The specific thing is an Antique though.”

“Have you tried Ebay?”

“It’s in this town.”

The man paused at that before sighing. “Of course it is. ‘Specific’ things don’t ever fucking leave.”

There was, probably, a good amount to unpack there but Danny decided it wasn’t any more his business than being half dead was this guy’s business. “It’s a lamp, it holds part of the night sky?” he tried asking.

The man clicked his tongue, “Bad luck kid. Sold that to an estate on the Meadow Hills south east of town.”

Danny lit up, a little too literally. He quickly readjusted before it was actually noticeable. “You actually had it? That’s great! Do you remember who you sold it to?”

“Don’t have their name.” 

“... You remember the lamp but not who bought it?”

The man finally put his magazine fully down and sat up properly. “I know who bought it, I don’t have their name. It's not something they're willing to give away, at least not for a lamp. I’d also recommend not going there yourself, they’re fond of young boys.”

Danny rolled his eyes. He was making the rich people in town sound like some kind of Seelie Court. “I’ll take your work for that,” he lied, fully planning on some ghost-grade breaking and entering. He headed for the door, hearing the soft chime of the bell as he pulled it open.

“Oh, one more thing,” he said, turning around, “Why’s this town called Witch Hour anyways?”

[whatiwillsay]

off topic - let’s talk about gaylena 👀

selena gomez is one of taylor’s oldest and bestest friends and given that she is in the 22 liner notes, a huge part of taylor’s life, and maybe fruity herself it seems like possibly we don’t talk about her here at the blog enough!

i don’t want to do a timeline of selena and taylor’s friendship - you can read more about that here, but they met back in the day when they were both dating jonas brothers and to me this idea of finding a real friendship in the midst of these contrived promances is pretty adorable.

ofc most of y’all think taylor is a fruit basket but i think there’s a good chance that selena is too!  i’m not saying she is for sure but y’all know me.  i’’m here to make a compelling case that everyone and their dog is gay so let’s gooooo! 

Part I - At least one fake rs!  

Selena “dated” Taylor Lautner in 2009 and he’s definitely gay.  Of course, that doesn’t mean she is, it could just be PR, but y’all know I gotta note everything!  We stan our fruity bffs dating the same gays 😍

Part II - Selena x cara delevingne

i feel like there’s a chance they met through taylor but everyone in that squad adjacent circle knows one another.  cara dated michelle rodriguez for the first half of 2014 and then got with annie clark in March 2015 but it feels like it’s possible something has gone on between her and Selena from summer 2014 - early 2015? ...maybe something casual on and off a bit?

August 2014 - Steamy pics surface in Saint-Tropez, France

Selena and and a freshly single Cara vacation together in part to celebrate Selena’s 22nd birthday.

They party together and look cozy!

Pictures such as this surface and spark rumors around the two:

Selena apparently loves the rumors and gushes about being shipped with Cara.

Quote:

You say Selena drag queens were the true measure of success for you. But isn’t it true that you’re not truly famous until you’ve been the subject of a gay rumor? And last year, the tabloids had a field day with photos of you and Cara Delevingne. I’ve made it!

How did you react to those rumors? Honestly, I loved it. I didn’t mind it. Especially because they weren’t talking about other people in my life for once, which was wonderful. Honestly, though, she’s incredible and very open and she just makes me open. She’s so fun and she’s just extremely adventurous, and sometimes I just want that in my life, so I didn’t mind it. I loved it.

Notice she doesn’t deny them?  Now of course she could just be being cool, if she freaked out about it that might be even weirder but hey, it’s still kind of interesting.

Then she admits to questioning her sexuality???

Have you ever questioned your sexuality? Oh, I think everybody does, no matter who they are. I do, yeah, of course. Absolutely. I think it’s healthy to gain a perspective on who you are deep down, question yourself and challenge yourself; it’s important to do that.

(Selena btw, this is cool and all, but not everybody questions their sexuality, maybe you’re just gay 👀)

November 1 - LACMA Art + Film Gala 

they even left the event together 👀

and they hung out earlier that day as well:

They were seen the next day partying for Kendall Jenner’s bday singing to her:

a few weeks later Cara tweets Selena’s lyrics!

In December 2014 they are travelling together in texas:

in january 2015 they get cozy at the golden globes together!

and they leave together again:

January 19th/20th a bunch of gay nonsense happens

They post this gay shit with matching shoes and linked fingers:

then they say this to one another:

Enty says they were hooking up!

then we don’t get any more content that i can find for about six months! perhaps they had a fling from summer 2014-jan 2015 and then it ends, Cara gets with Annie in March?  Then after half a year apart Selena and Cara resume a friendly relationship?  Perhaps!  Selena is seen with Justin a bit off and on during this time but this was in their Style/Heat Death Era imo (tbh i probably shouldn’t give a hetty pairing including Justin that designation 🤢but y’all get what I’m saying - it’s fully possible Selena was hooking up with both of them!

Now I’m not super familiar with Selena’s discography so y’all lmk if I’m missing anything major - lyric wise that point to her not being straight.

Selena’s album Revival that comes out after this relationship has a few songs with some vibes, even though I get the feeling a lot of it is probably about Justin, allow me to reach.  The title track could be translated as someone coming to terms with their sexuality (among other things):

I feel like I've awakened lately The chains around me are finally breaking I've been under self-restoration I've become my own salvation Showing up, no more hiding, hiding The light inside me is bursting, shining It's my, my, my time to butterfly

Good for you, imo, is too sexy to be about a man even if it’s not super queer lyrically it’s a vibe ok?

Me & My Girls might be a bestie anthem a la 22 (oh wait, no 22 was gay too) but I mean...could be about a girl gang of lesbians too!

And if we want it, we take it If we need money, we make it Nobody knows if we fake it You like to watch while we shake it I know we're making you thirsty You want us all in the worst way But you don't understand I don't need a man 

Quinn Fabray indeed!

Nobody feels probably like a retrospective on Justin 🙄but...there is a hint of sapphic craving in there!  Saying this particular lover loves them differently than everyone is a bit 👀 plus this stanza:

No oxygen, can barely breathe My darkest sin, you've raised release And it's all because of you, all because of you And I don't know what it is, but you've pulled me in No one compares, could ever begin To love me like you do And I wouldn't want them to

Is Perfect about some bitch Justin started dating?  Probably but bear with me here this song is actually pretty fucking gay.  Gay enough that I’m gonna add it to one of my gay playlists.  Could this song actually be about Cara moving on to Annie?

Ooh, and I bet she has it all Bet she's beautiful like you, like you And I bet she's got that touch Makes you fall in love, like you, like you

I can taste her lipstick and see her laying across your chest I can feel the distance every time you remember her fingertips Maybe I should be more like her Maybe I should be more like her I can taste her lipstick, it's like I'm kissing her, too And she's perfect And she's perfect

Part III - Selena x Julia Michaels

Julia Michaels is a singer/songwriter known for her song Issues.  I don’t know her sexuality but she at the least has gay vibes!  It seems they met around this time perhaps because Julia wrote on Revival.

They have a friendly enough friendship for a few years, liking one another’s posts on IG from time to time, posing for a photo a time or two and then they seem to get swept up into this very intense friendship in 2019.  They write some music together and Julia goes whole hog in promoting the shoe brand Selena is hawking this time 😭

2019 - The Superior Sapphic Jelena Timeline:

It starts, for some reason with a lot of shoe promotion:

chill, chill

more shoes

but more gayness?

this homo shit

ok...

Then we go into the REALLY GAY NOVEMBER OF 2019:

Then they perform together:

And...actually kiss...on the mouth on stage???

Sure it’s just a peck but still...if that were a guy people would say they were dating.  

Somehow kissing on the mouth isn’t the gayest thing these girls do over this period because these fucking dykes got matching tattoos.  I’ve read enough Larry blogs to know this actually means they’re secretly married.  All jokes aside this is fruity behavior. 

From their IG stories:

Selena gets Julia a very nice christmas gift:

Covid sets in and content drops off but god damn!  It’s possible they just had an intense friendship but if a man and a woman collabed on music together, kissed in public, and got matching tattoos everyone would say they were dating!

Selena, as far as I can find, didn’t have any public boyfriends around this time so who are some of these love songs about?

Rare comes out in January 2020 and perhaps has some gayish songs?

Don’t tell me why but boyfriend lowkey, has a gay vibe.  Don’t ask me to explain it but it’s just the musicality of it.

Crowded Room could be a love song for Julia?  (or by Julia for Selena, since they’re collaborators?)

Baby, it's just me and you Baby, it's just me and you Just us two Even in a crowded room Baby, it's just me and you, yeah

These are general gay vibes, our secret moments in a crowded room tease

It started polite, out on thin ice 'Til you came over to break it I threw you a line and you were mine

It would have started out polite between them, since they worked together for years before whatever 2019 was happened.  And throwing someone a line first of all makes Selena sound like the aggressor but also “throwing someone a line” could be a reference to writing songs together.

Yeah, I was afraid, but you made it safe I guess that is our combination Said you feel lost, well, so do I So won't you call me in the morning? I think that you should call me in the morning If you feel the same, 'cause

Lots of people are afraid at the beginning of a gay rs.  Treacherous tease 👀

In summation!

Selena does gay stuff like fantasizing ab kissing other women in her music, getting very touchy with famous dykes on vacay, hangs out with Taylor Swift, has chronic mental health issues, dated a jonas brother and a twilight gay, has admitted to questioning her sexuality, and loves being shipped with women.  Is she gay?  I don’t know!   But all she’s missing from her celesbian bingo card is a suspiciously intense friendship with a Glee Cast member! What do you guys think?  Selena fruity or just weird?

Edit to add: so apparently I missed an entire ship and Selena supposedly acted really gay all the time with her backup dancer Charity Baroni.  Exposing SMG has posted a lot about all that.

Also Selena has been cast in a gay role! edit to add: @bisluthq went and found this for me - julia is indeed a fruit queen

[wherethingscomebackx]

Top 25 Larry fics of 2019

It’s that time again!

You may be familiar with these lists:

Top 25 Larry fics of 2016

Top 25 Larry fics of 2017

Top 25 Larry fics of 2018

As always, I read a lot of fic and the majority of it is Larry. I like making lists and I like Larry so I thought I’d do some minimal research of the top 25 larry fics published/completed in 2019 in order of least to most kudos (with links). All of these fics are top notch so you should all check them out! 

25.) Foolishy Laying Our Hearts on the Table by @runaway-train-works (11k)

“You think Harry wants that?”

“Dunno. Maybe. Wanna make him happy.” Harry takes advantage of the red light he’s pulled up to turn and look properly at Louis’ face. He’s not even looking in Harry’s direction though, focused instead on something out of his side window, head drooped, mindlessly playing with the string of his hoodie between his fingers, lost in his own world somewhere. For some reason, it makes Harry’s spine straighten.

“Because he’s your best mate?” Harry questions carefully.

“He’s my boyfriend.”

He couldn’t have heard him right. “What?”

Louis releases a deep breath, still not turning around. Harry wonders who he thinks he’s talking to right now. “He’s so pretty. Want to kiss him all day long. And buy him a big house and give him presents and marry him.”

Or

The one where Harry is in love with his best friend Louis but doesn't think he stands a chance until some wisdom teeth and a rather unusual confession might just change his mind.

24.) Tainted Saints And Velvet Vices by @toomanydreamers (126k)

A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they're forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.

23.) all we can do is keep breathing by @avocadolouie (310k)

“Harry, I-I’m so sorry…” Louis stutters out, trying to keep his voice level and even, to portray a depiction of strength, but with the way Harry is looking at him, staring at him like he has a personal passage way straight to Louis’ soul, it’s so hard, nearly impossible.

That simple opening phrase, that short introductory acknowledgement that is often rushed out so easily, painlessly, at a safe distance. Giving a doctor the ability to portray empathy without true emotion, without feeling the full brunt and sheer force of the underlying pain itself.

But Louis feels it, he feels the crushing agony laced behind the phrase, he feels the weight of the painful words slipping from his lips, the cause and effect that the three-word expression holds. The distantly empty “I’m so sorry” that doctors throw out in self-preservation, isn’t at all empty for him. Louis recognizes it, he understands it, he feels it.

--

a fated story of two broken and battered boys who barely survived the unimaginable and how the love of one little brave girl defies all the odds and somehow puts them back together.

22.) Raise a Glass to the Four of Us by @2tiedships2 (25k)

Louis stared at his luggage.

Well. Apparently not his luggage, because the clothing he was looking at currently was a: worth more than everything he currently possessed, b: not his size at all, and c: more suited for a fancy ass lawyer than a holiday in NYC with his best mates.

“Ooh, nice loafers,” Niall said as he pulled one out of the suitcase. “I love the rainbows.”

“Okay,” Liam began. “What do you want to do first? Eat, shop for new clothes, or spend hours on the phone with the airline?”

Louis continued to stare at the luggage.

21.) You Have to Retreat to Advance by @2tiedships2 (18k)

“What am I going to do, Perrie? I can’t go on this retreat by myself. My boss literally said he wants to meet my omega.” Harry paused. “Okay, not literally but he definitely expects me to be bringing him.”

“Don’t people go on these things by themselves?” Perrie asked.

Harry shrugged. “Of course but that’s not the point.”

“What’s the point?”

“My boss is expecting to meet my omega! I don’t have an omega!”

“Is this a paying gig?” Perrie asked.

“You mean paying an omega to spend the weekend with me? I’m sure the resort has nice amenities. Does that count?”

“I take that as a no,” Perrie said with an eye roll. “It’s okay, Louis might be willing to do it for free.”

“Who’s Louis?”

Or the one where Harry is expected to bring his longterm omega to the company's mountain retreat. Since he hadn't told anyone that they'd broken up months ago, he now has to find someone willing to play the part.

20.) A Darker Shade of Love by LittleSpoonStyles94 (750k)

Louis is a 30 year old multi-billionaire with a very dark past. He is violent and is a sadist with a taste for pain. Harry Styles is a 19 year old student who sets out to London after being kicked out by his homophobic father to follow his dreams. He wants to go to the best University to study but he needs a lot of money so he starts to work as a part time stripper at a gay club to support his studies and his life. The club he works at, Garland's, is part owned by Louis Tomlinson. When they meet, its life changing for the both of them.

19.) You Still Make Sense to Me by @amories (37k)

Harry, Louis, and their family navigate life together through the years.

18.) Like Water Over Fire (Like Water On Fire) by @mcssymon (119k)

“I’m sorry your highness, I think I misheard you, did you really say that you are hoping to meet your husband?” Oh god, Louis panicked. Was Prince Harry gay? Was he even allowed to be gay? Surely he wouldn’t be allowed to have a selection from a group of men, right?

Prince Harry looked partly like he wanted to laugh, but also very, very nervous about what he had just admitted, “Yes, sir, you heard correctly”

Or Prince Harry has 46 men and 13 weeks to find the husband of his dreams, Louis has a limited amount to time to live out a royal fantasy. They might just be exactly what the other needs.

17.) waiting for the tides to meet by @nauticalleeds (59k)

Louis lets out a deep breath, thinking about Harry’s soulmate. Thinking about how Harry’s soulmate is probably as beautiful as Harry, some person that Louis cannot compare to, and how the universe has chosen them to be Harry’s. Fuck the universe. “Fuck you,” he calls out to the universe. He’s aware of how crazy he sounds.

Maybe he is crazy, with how he’s falling for Harry. And fuck that, too.

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

Featuring a lovely cup of OT5, a road trip down the coast, and a scene where Harry eats a whole head of lettuce. Don't ask why.

16.) Call Answered by @vondrostes (249k)

The day after his 27th birthday, Harry Styles attempts suicide. Louis is flown to his bedside to unravel the mystery of why he did it after a flash drive is found with a note attached, addressed to Louis. On it are a collection of 78 songs, all written for different dates from their past.

15.) Counterbalance by @louandhazaf (44k)

Harry Styles loves two things: teaching ballet and racing motorcycles. Those two worlds collide when his greatest rival on the track, Louis “Tommo” Tomlinson brings his tiny siblings to Harry’s class.

14.) Everywhere and Nowhere by @2tiedships2 (16k)

Niall took a seat and said, "Apparently Louis' downstairs neighbor is a fan of giving Louis creepy gifts. Maybe I should go introduce myself and tell him that Louis actually prefers food."

"What has he given you?" Liam asked.

Louis shrugged as it were no big deal. "There was a rabbit's foot keychain on the door a little after he left from introducing himself and there was a small teddy bear sitting by my door tonight. Obviously I can't prove it's from him, but they seem to have his scent. I could be wrong though."

"Wow," Liam said, looking deep in thought. "That's old school."

"What's old school?" Niall asked. "Giving creepy gifts?"

"I've never known an alpha to do it, to be honest, but he's courting you."

Louis couldn't contain his look of disbelief directed at Liam. "He's courting me. Like some sort of romantic shit they'd do in the 1800s or something?"

13.) Swallow The Knife by whoknows (76k)

“You came,” Louis says, still breathless, clinging to Harry, uncaring that his sweat is getting all over Harry’s presumably clean dad shirt, or that he’s making Harry hold up all of his weight.

“Of course I came,” Harry says. He shifts, one arm curled underneath Louis’ arse, the other spreading wide in the middle of Louis’ back. “If I ignored you every time you pissed me off we would have stopped being friends a long time ago.”

Louis already knows that, of course. It doesn’t do anything to stop the pleased squirm in his belly every time Harry proves it, though. They fight like nobody’s business, both of them too stubborn to pull their punches when they’re arguing, and it used to get them in trouble, but they always make up.

Adrenaline makes Louis loose-lipped, and they both know it. He tightens his arms around Harry’s neck, buries his face in his hair. “I missed you,” he confesses, quiet. “Doesn’t feel the same up there by myself.”

12.) and oh, all of your saturdays could end up in woe by ihavetoomuchfreetime (70k)

a fic in which louis' in a long-term relationship with an abusive asshole, niall, zayn and liam are so far but not really, and harry is that all too friendly guy who works in sainsbury's.

11.) thinking about the t-shirt you slept in by @absoloutenonsense (52k)

Harry's alpha fraternity donates to a local thrift shop (because of Liam's latent crush on a cute beta in his lecture). Louis' financial situation (and confusing omega instincts) lead him to make some interesting fashion purchases. Lots of pizza, feelings, and not-really-lying.

10.) Consequences by @allwaswell16 (78k)

Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets. Louis has tried to move on from their devastating break up. Sometimes, he even thinks he has. It only takes one moment to freeze them back in time.

An amnesia au

9.) Strawberries & Cigarettes by @dimpled-halo (76k)

Harry looks up and immediately freezes. Next to Ms. Archie stands the boy from just the other day. The boy with the leather jacket and chipped black nails, that might or might not be sketched in the very book Harry has just placed on the table in front of him. The leather jacket is missing today, probably because they aren’t allowed as part of their required uniform attire, but Harry can still see the fading black nail polish on his nails, and eyeliner around his eyes. Harry’s mouth goes a little dry. This boy is so intriguing to him.

“Ye-yes, Ms. Archie?” Harry tries to play it cool, but he’s almost positive that his cheeks are burning red, and he’s relieved neither of them can tell how fast his heart is beating in his chest.

The boy seems to also recognize Harry, because his lips curve into a knowing smirk.

“Harry is at the top of his class. He’s your best bet at getting familiar with things around here.” She explains.

Louis nods, his smirk still very prominent on his face. “Thank you Ms. Archie. I’ll be sure to take advantage of young Harold here.”

*

Summary: Two stories, eleven years, and the two boys that never stopped loving each other.

8.) Pain makes people change by Deidei (113k)

An organization called Canis Lupus existed solely for changing humans imprisoned in their wolf form back to their human form. Some people after experiencing some traumatic event can only ‘’protect’’ themselves from the pain by forgetting everything. To do that, to feel safe, they shift into their wolf form.

Which they'll be stuck in forever should no one intervene.

Louis Tomlison went through a traumatic experience at the age of twelve in which he lost his mother, to make the pain go away he shifted into a wolf and fled. He survived in the wild as a wolf for five years until Canis Lupis caught him... Though he wasn't alone, he had a pup at his side.

7.) Pretty Please (With Sugar On Top) by @angelichl (113k)

Harry is a sugar baby omega who cons rich alphas for a living. Louis is a rich alpha with too much self-control.

6.) Enemies with benefits by ssii8 (267k)

Where Harry is captain of basketball team and Louis is captain of football team and they hate each other. But somehow this doesn't stop them from having sex.

And everything is perfect until they start to feel something more.

5.) Ready To Fall by whoknows (21k)

“Ninety and rising,” Nick says triumphantly, as though making Harry’s heartbeat pick up by thrusting an obscenely attractive person in front of his face is any kind of success. “Louis Tomlinson has just walked into our control room and suddenly our dear Harry Styles has lost all ability to speak. Could this be some kind of strange coincidence?”

“I hate you,” Harry hisses, forcing his eyes back into Nick’s direction, uncaring that the mic must have picked it up. “I thought we agreed that you were going to play fair.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nick denies, except he’s holding up a picture of Louis’ face now, sharp cheekbones prominent, soft lashes nearly sweeping against his cheeks as he looks down, and his fucking mouth –

“A hundred and two!” Nick crows, all but clapping his hands together in glee. “The highest it’s ever been!”

“To be fair, I did bend over the desk on purpose,” Louis’ voice comes crackling in the headphones. Harry practically breaks his neck whipping his head around at the sound of it, gaping at him through the glass panel. “You can’t really blame him for getting a little excited about that, can you?”

4.) Close to Nowhere by @angelichl (34k)

“I will kill you in your sleep,” Louis threatened as he quickly stepped out of his jeans.

“I don’t think that would work very well baby, seeing as you talk to dead people all the time.”

“I’ll kill you in your sleep and ignore your ghost. And don’t call me that.”

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

3.) Play Pretend, Find a Friend? by @angelichl (40k)

They had to pull back for air. Louis surveyed the guy’s face, in awe of his blown pupils and sharp jawline, the way their shared spit glistened on his lips.

“Hi,” he breathed. He blinked, and came back to himself a little bit, blushing at his own boldness. “Sorry. Is this okay?”

The stranger removed his right hand from the curve of Louis’ waist in order to cup his jaw, tilting it up to the angle he desired. He pressed their lips together, murmuring, “Definitely.” And then he kissed harder.

When Louis sees his ex-boyfriend kissing a random girl at a party, he acts out of blind jealousy. He kisses the first guy he can find. It turns into a thing.

INSPIRED BY CLOUDS.

2.) Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat by @angelichl (34k)

Harry is 98% sure Louis hates him. So he feels like his bewilderment is justified when the omega offers to help him through his rut.

1.) All My Colours by IceQueenRia (267k)

Green… yellow… red. Red! RED!!!

Some people were born Dominant and others submissive. Sixteen year old Louis Tomlinson was a submissive and was proud to be so… until he was forced to his knees for the first time. The man before him was every subs nightmare, an abusive Dom, the kind who didn’t believe in the colour ‘red’ unless it was in the form of blood.

There were others, but Louis was the ‘favourite’ and he was the one the Dom liked to ‘play with’ the most. In fact, when the rescue team arrived, Louis was the one currently providing ‘service’ to the Dom.

Or

Louis, Zayn and Niall are abused subs. Liam Payne is their devoted new Guidance Counsellor who just wants to make Niall smile and hear Zayn speak. As for Louis, he knows his guidance won’t be enough to help the boy heal. No, Louis Tomlinson needs something very special and very specific. He needs Harry Styles.