Credit To @himbothy For The Idea/inspo!! (lmk If You Aren’t Cool With The @) 

Wilbur shook his head, “I’ve never lied to you.”

(...)

Wilbur lifted his mask

“If I truly believed it was the truth, does that make me a liar?”

(...)

“That’s the difference between me and Schlatt. That’s the difference between me and Phil. That’s the difference between me and Quackity.” The sparks had stopped flying so it was impossible to make out Wilbur’s facial expressions as he spoke. “I have never lied to you. I have been wrong but never lied to you, Tommy. I won’t lie to you. Do you trust me, Tommy? ‘Cos right now I feel like you don’t trust me.”

(Excerpt from Hitting on 16 by Wilbur Soot)

So, in this line, Wilbur references Schlatt and Quackity as purposeful liars while saying that in his Pogtopia mindset he wasn't lying because he truly believed what he was saying would come true, thus differentiating them, and it's pretty obvious that he's referring to stuff both of them (Schlatt and Quackity) did and said during the Manburg administration (which he still has a lot of resentment for).

However, he also mentions Phil, and I haven't seen anyone yet say where exactly Phil's lie that Wilbur references is. Well, I think I got it:

VOD: Healthy competition, 25th July, 8:03

Wilbur: Not many people do. I mean, Phil, you don’t seem afraid of me, you’re not afraid of me, are you, Phil?

Phil: No, not at all

Wilbur: Good. Good, ‘cause I’m not afraid of you

I think this is where Wilbur is convinced that Phil lied.

He says that "Good. Good, 'cause I'm not afraid of you" only after a pause, in what I can only describe as a slightly distrustful tone. "Not showing his true colours" with that response one could say:

“I think, I think you might be a bit braver than me, in showing your true colours. I feel like with you, Ranboo, I never have to be guessing your next move, I never have to be guessing your hand, you know? I feel like life dealt us the same cards, and the difference is that you build your trust by showing people your cards, while I keep them close to my chest. And I feel like that might be the big difference.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 41:22, 25th July)

And this is also supported by the very explicit way in which later on the same stream he says:

“Can I be real with you, man? I think I scare people.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 36:30, 25th July)

He’s convinced that people are afraid of him, that his social limbo is ever-reaching and that everyone looks at him like they did in Pogtopia, that they see him as crazy and scary, thus, he’d see that Phil just lied to him there

“I mean, like I, I, I, I don’t think I, I- I think a lot of people share your idea, but they share your idea in trying to- trying to keep me from hurting them, you know? Like they’ve seen what I can do, and they don’t want me to do it again, so they adopt your emotion in order to do it.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 36:46, 25th July)

“I’m living in eternal limbo, again. I’ve been through limbo, I’m out of limbo, and socially, I’m still in this limbo.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 38:36, 25th July)

“And, man, Ranboo, hearing you say those words that you said to me. Do you remember what you said? You said, 'I think people can change’, that was number one. And number two, you said you’re scared if people don’t like you.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 38:45, 25th July)

“Okay. Tubbo, I’ve literally- I was dead for thirteen years. I know it wasn’t long for you, I know it was only a couple months for you, but, thirteen years, Tubbo. Thirteen years of my life. I aged! Look at me, I’m not the same young man you knew!” - (Wilbur’s A Year Later: 20:52, 3rd Aug)

“I relived that explosion in my head so many times man. And, and, and I- I get that you don’t, you don’t trust me, I do, but like, man, look at me, bro, I’m not gonna do it again. I’m not gonna- I’m not gonna hurt you again.” - (Wilbur’s A Year Later: 21:21, 3rd Aug)

As cc!Wilbur mentioned in that one reddit post (it's in the replies): Quackity makes him feel human, while "everybody's trying to get on his god side out of fear", he remarks Quackity as "Someone who looks at him, not as "insane" not as "evil" or a "freak" but rather just unpredictable. Human. This is exciting for Revivedbur. He feels human again."

Quackity and Ranboo are the two he feels look at him as a person, not as just "that crazy man from Pogtopia", that's why he opens up so completely to Ranboo, it's why he remarks this:

“I feel alive, Ranboo, I feel alive. Someone’s looking at me and talking to me! I’m alive, I’m alive! This is great.” - (Wilbur’s Unhealthy Competition: 27:22, 4th Aug)

Phil however, enters in the larger camp of "looks at me with fear" (as well as the camp to use him as a scapegoat after his death), he's in the larger group of people Wilbur feels the need to appeaase by having more obvious comeuppance:

“Dream is- He’s had his comeuppance, and I have not! My comeuppance was apparently not good enough for this people. They’re just waiting, they’re waiting for the next thing for me to slip up on, and, Ranboo, I’m not gonna fucking slip up, Ranboo. I’m different.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 38:07, 25th July)

This also is a lie that Wilbur would care about, because I've seen others mention how Phil lied about Fried having infinite lives, which was in reality a "replace the goldfish" situation and how Phil also lied about not killing him no matter what he did or said in november 16th. However, Wilbur wouldn't care much for either of those instances, as he saw him dying on the 16th as something good and didn't pay much attention to Friend.

But his father apparently lying to him about no being scared of him? About not looking at him like crazy and hopeless just as everyone else when he's especially struggling with feeling like he can't count on anyone on account of his social limbo? Yeah, that one would affect him alright.

Another sketch commission 💜

List of vetted Palestinian fundraisers – Sept. 18

This is a list of vetted campaigns from Palestinians that have reached out to me today. All of them have stories either verified by known vetters, are present on vetted fundraiser lists or have been vetted by association. Please boost their campaigns and donate if possible. One small donation can make a huge difference for them!

@abdallaalhaj / vetting proof / donate (£230/£50,000)

@shadyfamily / vetting proof / donate (€832/€50,000)

@mohmad40 / vetting proof / donate (€4,572/€80,000)

@jomana-ha / vetting proof / donate ($15,440/$60,000)

@hebamater492 / vetting proof / donate ($938 CAD/$30,000 CAD)

@familygazaamal / vetting proof / donate ($1,116/$30,000)

@nisreensuhail / vetting proof / donate (€9,077/€50,000)

Taglist:

@papenathys @heliopixels@nimbooz@hiveswap@fiqrr

@irhabiya@feluka@anneemay@tumkaafiho@fleshdyk3

@paandaan@itsfookingloosah@himejoshikaeya

@colombinna@br-eddrolls@0luna123@block-swing-perry

@divineclouds@error-core-animations@juneybug@apocalyptic-dancehall@kingofthebookcase

@briarhips@dirhwangdaseul@mahoushojoe@rhubarbspring@three-croissants

@specialmouse@thehollyraven@the-olive-gardens

@transmutationisms @timetravellingkitty

@schoolhater @pcktknife

@wellwaterhysteria

@deepspaceboytoy @post-brahminism @khanger @kibumkim

@7bitter @tortiefrancis @buttercuparry

@toiletpotato@fromjannah@omegaversereloaded@vague-humanoid@evillesbianvillain

@aristotels@komsomolka@xinakwans

@ot3@amygdalae@lonniemachin@dykesbat

@watermotif@stuckinapril@mavigator@lacecap@yugiohz

@socalgal@chilewithcarnage@ghelgheli@vakarians-babe @naetaesarya

The actual aftermath of Round 6, btw..

i know i talk about this at least once a week but… holmes/watson has so much more potential than johnlock. johnlock is like insults and belittling and condescendingness 99% of the time and kindness and sweetness and tenderness the other 1%. nineteenth-century romance between a brave and kind doctor and a brave, kind coked-up detective on the other hand?? imagine. the language. the gestures. something like (and i’m just spitballing here) “in the soul i fear i have neglected, the mind i cherish above all my other qualities, and the heart i did not know i had before you graced my life with your presence, you may believe me to be, my darling, very sincerely yours, for as long as we both do live”. where are you going to find shit like that if not in the 1800s??? i like bbc sherlock i really do but it needs to get off its high horse akljfkfa

https://x.com/sitcomabed/status/1745444616948908096?s=20

Feeling… thoughtful… about them……

These recent chapters doin numbers for my brain waves. Give me more, Oda, i stg.

tw // blood

    There is a quiet, fleeting, moment, when the blade sinks itself into his ribcage and just below his heart, where the world whites out at the edges. He feels his lungs rattle in his chest, feels the metallic taste of blood well up from the back of his throat. He feels Phil’s shaking hands, tremors running down the metal and into his spine and his throat and the lips he so lightly twists into a smile. 

    “Hey, Phil.” Wilbur says, feeling his father slip further down, head bowed in grief. “It’s cold.”

    Phil keens low and quiet into his chest, singed wings draping over Wilbur, trying their best to block out the cold he knows comes from somewhere within him. He appreciates the gesture nonetheless. 

    He hears fireworks in the distance, and sees blue and red through the feathers. L’manburg colors. He silently thanks his brother for the last reminder of his symphony, his unfinished verse. He wonders if his death will be a finishing bar, or perhaps a catalyst for a new measure. He wonders if Tommy knows that the mantle has been passed, and that he’s sorry for the weight that ties a noose around his younger brother’s neck. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, he wants to plead, you’re not supposed to carry the weight of my failures on your shoulders. He hopes Tommy runs away, that he leaves this unfinished song and go write for himself a new one, a happier one. 

    “Are you proud of me?” Wilbur finds himself whispering, half hoping Phil doesn’t hear, and finding himself feeling too tired to care. He supposes death did that to a person. Leaves them tired and cold and strangely light. Phil’s hands don’t stop shaking, and red paints his palms and fingers and the hem of his cloak. Wilbur huffs a laugh at his father’s silence.

    “You don’t have to answer that, I think I know what you’re gonna say anyway.” Wilbur says, swallowing back a lungful of blood and air, bringing a hand up to card through the man’s blond hair. Phil shudders. “I wouldn’t be proud of me either.”

    Phil lets out a broken sound at this, and somewhere in Wil’s bleeding chest, he feels a twinge of shame. 

    “Forget about me, Phil.” Wilbur says into the air, feeling sweat and blood and tears drip down his chin. It stains the tips of Phil’s hair. “It’ll be easier that way, I think.”

    Phil brings a hand up to clutch at Wilbur’s arm, head still burrowed in his fast reddening shirt, and Wilbur stifles a gasp at where the movement jars his wound. The elder’s breathing is shallow, he opens and closes his mouth, words caught in his throat, like he’s choking on them.

    “Don’t cry, Phil.” Wilbur hums, voice thready and thin in the ash filled air, “I don’t want that to be the last thing I hear.”

    Phil sobs, and his back shakes with the weight of his grief and his loss. It must be agonizing, Wilbur thinks, to mourn your son while he still speaks. Then again, that won’t last for much longer.

    Wilbur strokes his father’s head, though his fading strength only allows him to curl his fingers, helpless as it falls wayside to the ground. 

    “You’ll be fine, dad.” Wilbur whispers, “You did the right thing. You got rid of the big bad, like the hero in the stories you used to tell.”

    Phil wails harder, and Wilbur thinks that maybe being a hero isn’t as appealing when it causes good men to cry. 

    “I’m tired.” He sighs, feeling his eyes slip shut, “I’ve been awake too long.”

    Phil reaches out with trembling fingers, bloodstained palms cradling his cheek.

    “I l-love yo u.” He chokes, the words broken and jilted, like a song through a broken speaker. 

    Wilbur feels his smile slip a bit, and bites back a strangled laugh, because Phil doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve to have to paint the floor red with his own son’s blood. Another tally on his faults, he thinks, another red name for his ledger of wrongdoings. Even on his dying breath, he hurts the people he loves. 

    “I love you too.” He says, instead, because he refuses to leave without letting his father know that he loves him. That whatever happens, whatever consequences he’s left blazing at his wake, Wilbur soot does not hate his father.  That this isn’t some sort of cruel punishment or last hurrah. He thinks that maybe he just wants to be held, and that sleep comes so much easier when he’s safe in the arms of his childhood hero and protector. “I love you so much.”

     The static in his head grow louder, and he feels his heart give a shudder, and a beat, and the dark encroaches quickly, and through the gauze he hears a broken scream. Then, nothing.

Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep

Poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye

Iceflow Waltz

Continuing the 'Wrio has frostwalker' hc, he takes neuvi out to the lake to do this ballroom dance / ice skating mix.

They're literally Coppelia and Coppelius to me they're so hfjdhdjdjdjsikss