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i-hate-accidents · 3 days

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Would you ever consider writing the conversation Anthony had with Benedict in his bedchamber? When he scolded Ben for being alone with Y/N?

the author would like to share that upon reading your message, they immediately said, out loud, to no one but for herself to hear, "that is a BRILLIANT idea." she offers many thanks for your idea and your generosity in sharing it. <3

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i hate accidents: a drabble

femme!reader x benedict bridgerton, femme!reader & the bridgerton family, femme!reader & penelope featherington

summary: the adventures of a working class femme who befriends a fellow writer, a boisterous family, and a bewitching second eldest son

sections: I. the beginning / II. the between / III. the ball

y/n: bipoc, she/her, afab, nonbinary femme, queer, working class, of immigrant parents

content warnings: brief description of grief from losing a parent

word count: 623

author’s note: the character of y/n, whilst heavily talked about, does not appear in this drabble. the author hopes you enjoy these bickering brothers~

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anthony turns towards him, quiet fury simmering in his eyes.

"brother," begins benedict, "i—"

"have you lost your fucking mind!" booms anthony.

"if you just let me explain—"

"have you compromised y/n?"

"what!"

"i said! have you compromised y/n!"

"how can you even insinuate that! of course i have not!"

"and why should i trust what you say?"

"because i am your brother!"

"precisely! you are my brother! you lie to me as naturally as you breathe!"

that is something, benedict admits to himself, i cannot deny.

"well! i have no reason to lie now!" he declares aloud.

"and you expect me to believe that? when i saw your mouth and her mouth mere breaths away from one another?"

lightning shoots throughout benedict’s body and butterflies erupt in his stomach at the memory. the two of you were, indeed, mere breaths away from—— from—

"see," anthony interrupts, "you have nothing to say. are you finally admitting to your guilt?"

"we were discussing my art! that is all!"

"i am not a fool, benedict!"

"you look like one!"

"and you act like one! alone! in your bedchamber! with a lady! our friend! how do you think our family will react when they hear of your impropriety?"

"you make it sound as if this were some, some— devious scheme!"

anthony shakes his head.

"brother, i know you are in love with y/n—"

it would have been kinder if anthony shot him point blank in his chest.

benedict gapes at him, but his brother merely responds with an expression that makes him feel like a naive child.

"benedict, please. your affection for y/n is deeply apparent to everyone in this house. mother, kate, our siblings, the servants, penelope. good god, francesca, daph, and hastings even know, and they are not even here. you," anthony states simply, "are in love."

"i have not said anything of the sort!"

"so what do you mean to say? that you do not love y/n?"

benedict freezes. he feels the swell of his heart and its collapsing all in a mere breath.

of course i do. of course i love y/n.

he swallows.

"it matters not what i feel. it matters what she deserves."

y/n deserves someone good. someone who will not hurt her. someone who is not me.

anthony’s face softens, and it would be an expression that would be kind if benedict didn’t feel as though he was on the receiving end of its pity. still, it reassures him. anthony’s gentleness seemed to have passed when their father had. it seemed to no longer have existed as a possibility within him; and then kate entered their lives. whenever he sees evidence of its restoration, benedict cannot help but feel gratitude—even, as in this moment, at the cost of his own pain.

anthony sighs.

"did you two have to be in your bedchamber?"

benedict rolls his eyes.

"this is where all my art is! but it shan't happen again."

"oh, that i will make certain."

he furrows his eyebrows.

"what is that supposed to mean?"

"did you truly think i would let you get away with this indiscretion? you have completely disgraced y/n!"

"nothing! happened!"

"bedchamber! together! ALONE!" anthony checks his pocket watch and, with its closing, resumes a dignified composure. "i am done with this conversation. we have kept y/n waiting long enough. we must go to her promptly, offer our deepest apologies, and ensure that she is safe and well after this event. we will be most fortunate, indeed, if she chooses to absolve us from your transgression."

benedict puts his hands over his face. of all the people in the world, why did his elder brother have to be anthony bridgerton?

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serendipnpipity · 1 day

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Favorite DnP Tour Song Statistics

Settle round, little ducklings, do I have some statistics to share with you all!!

A grand total of 156 people participated in this survey, so thank you if you took the time to fill it out! 🧡

As a teaser, here’s a pie chart of the votes for your favorite song! We’ll be discussing this in depth in its own section but I know some of you f*ck vibe with pie charts more than the bar charts I use there…

To give you a clear vision of what we’ll be looking at, here are the categories of the upcoming analysis:

Phandometrics (community growth on a viewership & fandom scale)

Favorite Song (general)

Favorite Song vs. Phandometrics (the main hypothesis!)

Honorable Mentions (fun little quirks I noticed along the way)

Ready? Time to read on.

PHANDOMETRICS

Lag between year started watching -> year joined the phandom. This can be seen most obviously in the 2009-2015 portion of the graph, likely when the community was just building up. I went back to check individual points, and many people seem to join a year or two after starting to watch.

Three distinct peaks of phandom growth: 2015 (dnp popularity peak), 2019 (coming out), and 2023 (dnpg comeback, dnp renaissance). Pretty expected, but still cool to see!

The difference between the peaks when you look at viewership vs. phandom is interesting though! Especially 2019 seems to be a huge spike in viewership, but the phandom growth seems a little more gradual (maybe more people lurked at first, then joined the phandom in 2023 once they were more active?).

The 2012 peak is really interesting. Most popular year to start watching from this sample, apparently!

FAVORITE SONG

"The Internet is Here" won 51.3% of the votes... which didn't surprise me all that much. It's iconic, okay?

II is about half as popular, and beyond the song qualities themselves, I wonder if a contributing factor to this pattern could be its lack of availability as an officially released song.

I think Everything's Fine is so low partially bc I closed the poll before WAD released to prevent the recency effect from skewing the data. (Especially because I thought we were getting "Everything's Fine (Acoustic)" smh.)

FAVORITE SONG VS. PHANDOMETRICS

By era...

I had a hypothesis: based on the year you joined, which I now realize in my head wrongly equated with the year you were most active in, you'd be more biased towards the song of that era bc a) you were more likely to go to the tour or b) epic nostalgia hit.

Yeah, I was wrong.

When you group the eras you see that TIIH wins in almost every single group by a similar proportion to the total, which means this attitude is fairly evenly distributed amongst the phannies.

By year...

Separating by year, you begin to see that, hold up, the hypothesis could have some merit! In either 2017 or 2018 on both graphs, the II finale actually does win.

The super high TIIH votes bleeding in from 2015/2016 and from 2019 seemed to mask this pattern.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

I have no idea what happened here but both ways you slice it, Interactive Introverts was fighting for its life amongst the 2012 phannies???

We got three phannies that have been watching since 2009!! The fact that people have been sticking around so long (up to fifteen years!!! and this was only a sample of 156 of us!!!) is really heartwarming for me bc it's a testament to how strong of a community dnp have built their viewership to be.

At the end of the day, what can I say? That was a lot of statistics. I hope you enjoyed or took something away from this little survey. Lmk if you notice any other cool trends or have any theories on what the data means!

Thank you for listening to my yapping; have an orange heart.

🧡

#OH ALSO GUYS I literally did all of the categorizing manually in order to make the clustered bar graphs. it was a pain. it was worth it.#dan and phil #dnp #we're all doomed #wad #phan #tatinof #interactive introverts #daniel howell #danisnotonfire #amazingphil #phil lester #ser does stats #ser shares #stats phannies; music phannies; data analyst phannies... this one is for you <3

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plasticflwrs · 2 days

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✿ ، With the rise of long-form video essays on YouTube, user GOTHIC GWYN changed the K-Pop fandom with her seventy-five-minute analysis, PLASTIC FLOWERS: BREAKING THE INDIE SCENE. Since it was posted in 2022, the video has reached over 5 million views and GOTHIC GWYN still posts semi-regularly. In this section of the video, the creator discusses the three original members of The Big Gloom—IRUM, SEOWON, and CHAESOL—and Plastic Flowers—DAL, JIHUN, and MINGHUI. This layout was inspired by the lovely myah aka @/venusvity !

( PART VI: I ALWAYS WANT YOU WHEN I'M FINALLY FREE ... YING SHUHANG ) ⬭ It is all but confirmed that Irum and Salem had dated prior to 2016. Shuhang had kept pictures of the pair on his public Instagram up until 2020 when the new fans of Plastic Flowers finally dived into finding the former members and everything about them. As of 2023, his account has been private but the pictures never truly get deleted. They surface about once a year when fans are reminded of The Big Gloom's existence and it annoys all of the members, past and present. It has gone far even that Superbloom is threatening legal action on behalf of Irum as well. Their alleged breakup coincides with the signing of Salem under Superbloom Media and when the band "broke up". Of all the members, he is the most private and has no public social media outside of the The Big Gloom's accounts on Instagram, Twitter, and Tiktok. Formerly Salem's second in command, fans from the beginning have noticed that Shuhang has never bounced back from their initial separation and has said a few times that he regrets not signing, especially with their recent success. However, he always wishes the best for the members and even covered Youth by Oliver with Chaesol back in April.

✿ ، BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION.

Stage Name. Irum ( 이룸 ).

Birth Name. Ying Shuhang ( 英书航 ).

Born. Feburary 22, 1998 in Maoming, China.

Position. Vocalist, Guitarist.

Years Active. 2014 — 2016; 2018 — present.

Label. Unsigned.

Face Claim. Xiao Dejun.

( PART VII: I AM DESTROYING MYSELF SO OTHER PEOPLE CAN'T ... CHOI SEOWON ) ⬭ Choi Seowon was tired of being ignored. For the last two years, his ideas and demos had been passed up by the group, and by 2016, he was already planning on leaving the entire group. The situation with Superbloom just gave him the perfect opportunity to change things. While everyone blames the end of the original lineup on Irum, accounts by both Salem and Chaesol make this seem false. They have stated multiple times that Seowon was the first to voice his opinions against Superbloom Media and being signed. He knew that he would still be ignored in favor of the other members as the drummer and needed a way out of this. As they went back on the idea, he remained on the side against signing and eventually, got Irum on his side with an unknown agreement. Since 2018, he has served as the leader of The Big Gloom and is easily the most popular member for his reactions to Plastic Flowers on Twitch. Whenever something happens to the group, he is always just behind them with nasty comments about their looks and the direction of their music, mainly focused on Salem.

✿ ، BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION.

Stage Name. Seowon ( 서원 ).

Birth Name. Choi Seowon ( 최서원 ).

Born. April 9, 1998 in Ulsan, South Korea.

Position. Leader, Drummer.

Years Active. 2015 — 2017; 2018 — present.

Label. Unsigned.

Face Claim. Choi San.

( PART VII: I STILL WAKE UP WITH THINGS TO TELL YOU ... CHOI CHAESOL ) ⬭ Chaesol and Salem were best friends for two years before the creation of Plastic Flowers. While Salem was the leader of their garage band, Chaesol was the glue that held them together. She was always able to calm disagreements between the other three and give solutions to make them all happy. Born as the eldest of three other siblings, this was almost second nature to the young girl. Chaesol was the reason that Salem met the other two and should be credited more for her impact on the group. In 2017, she was on the fence about Superbloom Media. She knew that it would be good exposure for the band but idol companies were not known for their leniency and she wanted to keep her autonomy over music and herself. Chaesol had seen her own classmates be chewed and spit out by companies like them. So, when Irum and Seowon denied the contract, she came along with them. Since November of 2018, she has served as the Main Vocalist, Guitarist, and Pianist of their new band Overstepping. She is also still close with Salem even after everything and was spotted at their first 'concert' in the VIP section alongside the member's parents and close friends.

✿ ، BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION.

Stage Name. Chaesol ( 채솔 ).

Birth Name. Choi Chaesol ( 최채솔 ).

Born. November 28, 1998 in Ulsan, South Korea.

Position. Main Vocalist, Guitarist, Pianist.

Years Active. 2015 — 2017; 2018 — present.

Label. Unsigned.

Face Claim. Kim Jiwoo.

( PART IX: YOU WILL ALWAYS HAVE A TENDERNESS IN YOUR HEART FOR THEM. ... MYUNG JISOO ) ⬭ Before there was Oliver Song, Myung Jisoo was the apple of Shin Yeonghui's eye and had been personally scouted by the CEO at her dance recital. She would be one of the first trainees to join Superbloom after their rebrand and was supposed to debut in their first girl group Celatum in 2015. No one really knows what happened behind the scenes, but, she was removed from the lineup with another future Plastic Flowers member, Oh Deurim. Seeing her potential as an idol, she was added to the Plastic Flowers lineup despite having no background in any instruments, instead being a dancer.

She would be trained by her band mates Oliver and Salem as the new drummer for the band and looks back fondly at her time as a member of Plastic Flowers. Though things were very hard due to their low sales and learning to play the drums, she thanks them for making her interested in the behind-the-scenes of making music and wanting to be a lyricist. Her contract, sadly, would be ended due to Superbloom Media's lack of funds and Shin Yeonghui wanting to see her under a better company for her immense talents.

In 2017, she would be replaced by Kang Junyeong as the drummer of Plastic Flowers and Jisoo would go completely silent until 2019. In the years between her contract ending, she would join KQ Entertainment and act as a choreography and dance instructor, working closely with the members of ATEEZ from pre-debut until now. In 2019, she would return to the music scene as a soloist under her birth name, Jisoo. Her debut with Gotta Go would be very well received and she continues to make music today.

✿ ، BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION.

Stage Name. Dal ( 달 ).

Birth Name. Myung Jisoo ( 명지수 ).

Born. April 2, 1997 in Seoul, South Korea.

Position. Vocalist, Drummer.

Years Active. 2016; 2019 — Present.

Label. KQ Entertainment.

Face Claim. Kim Yoohyeon.

( PART X: I WAS WITH THEM AND YET I WAS ALONE. ... KANG SOONYOUNG ) ⬭ Kang Soonyoung never speaks about his time with Plastic Flowers and is often the most forgotten former member of the band. He would be a Superbloom Media trainee for just two weeks before being added into the lineup as one of the few trainees that already knew how to play the piano. Unlike the rest of the members, Soonyoung was never credited as a vocalist because he never had the real vocal training needed, he was scouted for his good looks over his talent. In a deleted Instagram post, Soonyoung would thank Plastic Flowers for being so accommodating to his lack of talents, but would blame Superbloom for not letting them stay together in the long run. He is easily the most vocal of their former artists about their bad business practices and uses of manipulative tactics to get trainees and band mates to hate each other.

In 2019, Soonyoung would make his comeback to the music scene as a trainee on the survival show Produce X 101 as a Starship Entertainment trainee. Alongside all of his label mates, he would make it to the shows finale, but failed to secure a spot in the final lineup and ranking #11 overall. It was later revealed that due to the eleventh member of X1 being chosen by the total number of votes, he would lose out on his spot to Lee Eunsang. He would return to Starship and later debut as a vocalist and visual of their newest boy group Cravity in 2020.

✿ ، BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION.

Stage Name. Jihun ( 지훈 ).

Birth Name. Kang Soonyoung ( 강순영 ).

Born. March 18, 2000 in Seoul, South Korea.

Position. Pianist, Visual.

Years Active. 2016; 2019 — Present.

Label. Starship Entertainment.

Face Claim. Kim Sunwoo.

( PART XI: WAS I RAISED WITHOUT LOVE OR WAS I BORN UNLOVABLE? ... LIN MINGHUI ) ⬭　Compared to the rest of the members, Lin Minghui never discusses anything from his childhood. The only stories that we truly have about him is from their trainee era and since their debut. From what we know, he was born in Hualien City to a single, teenage mother and was raised primarily by his maternal grandparents while his mother completed her schooling and attempted to live a normal life. By all means, Lin Shufen always tried her best with raising Minghui but, according to court documents found by sasaengs, she was forced to give full custody rights to her parents and could not be alone with her son due to her not paying rent on time, toxic relationships, and neglecting Minghui at her parent's house for days. The court case was started by his grandparents and they raised Minghui as their son since 2010.

Minghui cites both FT Island and SHINee as his inspirations and reasons for getting into K-pop. He learned piano at a young age at his grandparents recommendation. In 2015, Superbloom Media made a trip to scout idols from Taiwan and as a fan of their original artist, Kim Yuchan, he decided to take a chance. He thought that it would be fate if they accepted him and it was a sign to become an idol due to his lack in dance and most vocal abilities. With a bright personality and dedication to the idol industry, he was originally scouted to be an entertainer or actor. He moved to Seoul with his grandparents, who had been retired at that point, and lived with them rather the training dorm.

He continued training to be an actor but when Superbloom began scrambling for new members of Plastic Flowers, he was considered due to his knowledge of the piano which very few trainees had. They expedited his vocal training and kept him primarily in the background of Plastic Flowers to not cause anymore drama about who was chosen as Junyeong fought anti's almost everyday. He was supposed to compete on Superband with Gwyn in 2019, however, he was not chosen in the final round and was sent home to Superbloom to await Gwyn's return. Minghui is easily one of the most known members of the band due to his work on variety shows and helped them gain more fans as well.

In 2021, his departure from Plastic Flowers would be announced by Superbloom Media and due to musical conflicts with both the company and members of the band. However, in a statement in 2023, Minghui would say he left because of the members and their constant fighting.

✿ ، BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION.

Stage Name. Minghui ( 밍후이 ).

Birth Name. Lin Minghui ( 林明辉 ).

Born. March 3, 2000 in Hualien City, Taiwan.

Position. Pianist, Vocalist.

Years Active. 2017 — 2021.

Label. Unsigned.

Face Claim. Liu Yangyang.

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v4mp1r3bl0g · 3 days

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This is the beginning of the end

Formula One x Final Destination AU

warnings: gore, death, blood, graphic descriptions of death

word count: 1.8k

summary: Logan’s premonition of a deadly rollercoaster ride saves his life and a lucky few, but not from death itself - which seeks out those who escaped their fate

authors note: I was bored and decided to combine my 2 favorite interests

It was the senior carnival trip everyone was excited about graduating. Well everyone except Logan, that is. He still had no clue what he wanted to do after high school.

He kept procrastinating finding a career telling himself “he’d have more time” and now here he stands in front of Max Verstappen snapping a shot of him playing the high striker for the yearbook, a week away from graduating.

“Lewis, Nico!” Logan called out towards the duo before snapping a shot of them together.

Logan takes a look at the picture as the duo walks away, noticing a weird blur in the photo he decides to zoom in before Oscar interrupts his thoughts.

“We should totally go and ride The Devil’s Flight, it’ll be so much fun!” Oscar exclaimed as he jumped around. Logan and the rest of the guys just laughed watching him in amusement.

Logan took out his camera and was about to take a picture when someone got in his way. “Excuse me,” he said, annoyed. To his surprise Lance turned around glaring at him.

“Does mom know you’re here?” Logan asked, glaring back.

“You are a complete bitch if you tell her”, Lance growled.

Logan smirked, “The proof's right here.”

“Get a shot of this then”, Lance laughed as he stuck his middle fingers out, wincing as Logan took a picture.

Logan walked away catching up to his friends smiling as Alex called out to him “Take a picture of me holding the devil’s balls!” the brit said in a playful tone.

He giggled to himself as he snapped the picture furrowing his brows as he noticed the weird blur again. He shook his head and decided to ignore it, as he continued walking, Alex slung his arm around him. “Are you alright?” the older one asked.

Logan bit his lip as he stared up at Alex. “I have that feeling like dejá vu, you know? except for something that hasn't happened yet.”

“Look, I know you and I think that maybe you're nervous about this roller coaster because they say the real fear comes from the feeling of having no control.” Alex said as he gently caressed his face, reassuring the younger one.

Logan nodded and continued walking, shivering as a gust of wind hit him.

“So I guess me and Logan are going in front?” Alex asked, making sure everyone was fine with that. Logan quickly turned to look at him, shaking his head. “Nuh uh I can’t do the front, I have to see the track or else I’ll like totally freak out”

“OK fine, you can ride in the back with Lando” Alex motioned, moving the two next to each other.

“No way I am NOT missing out on the fun just cause Logan’s scared, why don’t YOU ride in the back with him” Lando exclaimed, glaring at Alex.

“Don’t worry Logan, I’ll ride in the back with you” Oscar reassured him as he rolled his eyes at the older Brit’s.

Another gust of wind blew, making the hairs on the back of Logan’s neck stand up. He looked up at the giant devil statue and felt his blood run cold. He decided to ignore the feeling and got in line with the rest of the guys.

“You’re in section 6” the ride attendant called out as Logan and Oscar made their way to their seats.

“Oh mega yuck,” Oscar shrieked as he touched a piece of gum that was stuck onto the ride. Logan couldn't help himself and busted out laughing. “That is so not funny, Logan,” Oscar mumbled as the ride attendant waved his hand in front of Logan.

“No cameras on the ride” he scoffed.

“Can I just put it in my pocket?” Oscar asked as he tucked the camera away.

“Yeah whatever”.

The ride started and Logan grabbed onto the seatbelt, closing his eyes for a second and exhaling.

Everyone starts cheering as the ride starts.

“You ok?” Oscar asked and he turned to look at Logan

“Yeah I’m fine” the oldest replied giving the aussie a half smile.

Everyone shrieked in excitement as the roller coaster went downhill, all raising their arms in excitement

“Hey Lewis, say hi to the camera” Romain annoyingly called.

“You should lift up your shirt Nico, give my followers a nice view”.

“Can you fuck off mate” Lewis groaned as he slapped that camera out of Romains hands

“HEY! that camera was expensive” Romain moaned

“Not my problem” Nico replied as he rolled his eyes

Romain frowned as he watched his camera fall, the camera wrapping itself around the track.

The roller coaster turned into a loop and everyone screamed in joy, the rollercoaster took a few more loops and turns. Everything was going smoothly when all of a sudden it ran over the camera, causing the hydraulics to burst, liquid leaking out and eventually the ride started malfunctioning.

“What the fuck!” Logan yells out as his seat belt lifts.

The screams of joy now turned into screams of terror as everyone’s seatbelts malfunction and unclip themselves from the ride.

Oscar yells as he clings tightly onto the seatbelt.

At this point, everyone is terrified and holding on for dear life. The roller coaster goes downhill and takes a sharp turn to the right when suddenly the bar connecting the ride snaps in half, immediately disconnecting the front part of the roller coaster, sending Alex and Lando flying off the track and falling to their death.

The ride continues, going over a bump which causes Max to fly out of his seat. Oscar lifts up his seatbelt and reaches out to catch Max holding onto him as hard as he can, the coaster takes a turn causing a piece of the ride to come off and go flying straight towards Max causing him to collide with the metal bars holding up the ride.

Logan is using his arm to hold Oscar into place as the ride continues, going for a loop when two of the wheels fall off causing the roller coaster to get stuck upside down. Mark and Sebastian scream in fear as they’re hanging onto the seatbelt of the ride.

“Hold on!” Logan yells out through tears at Sebastian as he starts to slip “I can’t” he yells back as he eventually loses grip and falls to his death as Mark follows along, two others falling behind them.

Logan is paralyzed in fear by this point not knowing what to do anymore “Help me rock the coaster” Oscar yells at him as they both start rocking forward. The roller coaster eventually completes the loop going straight down but right as they are about to cheer in victory the metal bar that Max had previously collided with goes right through Oscar cutting him in half.

Logan screams out in fear as the ride falls off the track sending him plummeting to the ground. He closes his eyes as he accepts his faith when suddenly he wakes up looking at his surroundings with a tear stained face as the ride attendant waves his hand in his face “No cameras allowed on the ride”.

Logan gasps and reaches to grab Oscar’s hand as it touches the piece of the gum stuck on the ride.

“WE HAVE TO GET OFF OF HERE!” he yelled at Oscar right as the ride attendant was gonna push the GO button.

“NO DON’T PUSH THE BUTTON, DON'T PUSH THE BUTTON!” Logan sobbed out as he tried getting the seatbelt off, “LET ME OUT, LET ME OUT!” he continued screaming.

Oscar looked at him concerned as he reached to grab his hand “Logan it’s ok”

Logan was looking around panicked as he kept clawing at his seatbelt “NO IT’S GONNA CRASH, IT’S GONNA CRASH!”

“Logan?” Alex questioned as he heard him screaming all the way at the front of the ride

“THE HYDRAULICS WILL RUPTURE YOU HAVE TO LET US OFF PLEASE!”

Logan was practically begging at this point as he continued to sob. Eventually security came “What’s going on?” he asked confused as he saw Logan freaking out “I don’t know he’s on something” the ride attendant replied as he glared at Logan

“LET ME OFF PLEASE!”

“Alright let them out, but just the back” the security replied as the back row seatbelts lifted up. Logan ran out towards the security trying to speak through sobs.

“Whoa whoa relax, what’s the matter?” he asked as he tried calming Logan down

“I saw it- I saw it in my head the tracks collapsed and the roller coaster collapsed-”

“No he was just a little upset before” Oscar interrupted as he grabbed Logan trying to sooth him and calm him down.

“Man can you please control that bitch” Max said as he got out of his seat “It’s gonna crash the hydraulics the coaster, man he’s just trying to get some fucking attention” Max scoffed as he got off the ride glaring at Logan and Oscar

“You know what you’re a real piece of shit Max, fuck you” Oscar replied as he walked up to Max

“Fuck moi?, nah man fuck you!” Max yelled as Oscar pushed him causing him to elbow Sebastian

Oscar and Max start throwing punches at each other as Mark got out trying to break the fight apart, Sebastian following right behind him

“Hey- Hey let me off” Alex exclaimed as he looked around trying to see what the commotion was

The security dragged Logan and the rest out the exit “Nobody else gets off this ride”

Alex turned towards the ride attendant with an annoyed look “Dude let me off”

“So high school” Nico scoffed as he got off

“Let’s get out” Lewis replied as he followed after him

“Where are you guys going!” Romain called out as he followed the pair

Alex was starting to get annoyed at this point “Dude let me off I gotta make sure he’s ok” he huffed as he looked at the ride attendant again.

“Hey, Ho, Let’s go!, Hey, Ho, Let’s go!” the crowd started to cheer trying to get the ride to continue

“Let me out dude, that’s my friend over there!” Alex exclaimed trying to get off the ride, the seatbelt not budging.

Eventually the ride attendant gets the cue to continue and presses the GO button, as Logan turns his head he sees the ride going, he freaks out and runs screaming at the ride attendant as everyone is dragging him back “STOP IT NO, STOP IT PLEASE PLEASE, THE TRACKS ARE BROKEN, STOP IT STOP IT PLEASE, ALEX!” Logan sobbed out trying to get away from Oscar’s tight grip.

The security guy eventually drags Logan and Oscar away, shoving them towards the exit. Logan was a mess as he stumbled down the stairs forcefully trying to explain everything.

“Just settle down and listen, what is your home phone number we can call your mother and everything will be oka-“ right as the manager was about to finish his sentence he got cut off by the sounds of screaming as the roller coaster crashed and sent everyone falling to their death.

“ALEX!” Logan sobbed as he fell to the floor crying.

authors note: plz comment your opinions on my story and leave a “🎟️” if u would like to be tagged in the next part! thank u sm for reading i really hope you enjoyed it 😸

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hiraeth-sonder · 3 days

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High Tides - Zimeng House

Yan! OC x Reader

Overindulging your child is very often the downfall of most parents, but it can be excused when you have reunited with your long lost son, no?

TW: Incest, some guy gets knocked out/killed, nursing, implied dubcon, general toxic behaviour, not really proof-read and maybe (definitely) bad writing

//I had the urge to write this no idea why. Dedicated to a friend of mine who fulfilled my inspiration fix and indirectly aided with the creation of this horrific thing

━─━────༺༻────━─━

The rapid yet skillful plucking of strings echoed throughout the hall, a sudden start that brought attention to the stage in the very middle. Surrounded by dozens of other guests, sitting atop a wooden chair with a pipa in your lap, draped in fine silks and tinkling jewellery, you strum the strings slowly as the melody rises layer by layer. Interspersed were tremolos, hot friction rubbing against the pads of your finger, the bright moon rising from the sea.

Your eyes scan across the gathering of people tonight, fingers still playing as you pluck and strum. It is the same as every other night, men seeking to spend the night in the embrace of another, courtesans pouring sweet wine into the awaiting mouths, there was little to note on such a mundane night.

The second section begins, you bring your other hand to the neck of the instrument as it joins your dominant hand in chanting and pulling. Still just as leisurely as the first, the added motions continued to entice your eager audience, wide eyes filled with wonder as they drift to visages beyond your face and skill. You could feel wandering eyes trail along your neck, travelling a line to your fingers, your waist, even to the arch of your feet. You pay them no mind, it is after all, your life’s work to entice and should your music not be up to par, then let it be your frame that does so.

As young women garbed in silks as vibrant as the fenghuang’s feathers emerge, their feet light and their actions entrancing, you continue your reverie upon silk strings. There is little incentive for you to focus on your art, not when you have all but perfected the very act of performing. In the distance, standing by a pillar and hidden among the crowd was a young man in dark robes. He had a still sheathed sword by his side, garbed in midnight dark robes that cut a severe silhouette. For a moment, your eyes meet, milky jade that seemed not of this mortal realm bearing an intensity. It is by instinct that you avert your gaze, and you find that despite having been the focus of unsavoury attention for far longer than most, you feel uneased by his.

You continue to strum, dancers whirling in winds of colourful fabric as the melody continues with its rhythmic flicks. Your vision is obscured by thin veils, arcing through the air as they fall with graceful descent. You still feel that man’s gaze on you, and you can only wonder whether you have met before in some clandestine time. There was little other reasoning, the only other could be a desire of service, a desire for temporary companionship.

When the performance eventually comes to its natural end, your sisters, the dancers, aid you with your ascent, one taking the pipa from your hands and another offering you a hand to take. Her hand is much softer when in comparison to yours, though care was essential for the lives you lead, your very niche borne callouses upon the pads of your fingers. A soft smile pulls across your lips as your eyes crinkle, and as the once hungry gazes of guests slide right off your form, focused on younger more nubile women, one slinks away.

You part the beaded curtains that separate the house’s main hall from the inner rooms, and just the clack of beads clicking against each other sound in your ears, you hear a man’s voice from behind you, low and rumbling.

“Ms. Shen.”

The sound is familiar in an odd manner, the way he calls your surname all too intimately despite the cold tone of his voice. You are not sure whether you like it, and when you turn to face him, high and all-mighty cultivator of milky jade eyes, you find that uncertainty still brewing. Your nerves seem to harden and chill, bringing a hand to your exposed collarbones.

Speaking slow and steady, you maintain the contact that he has put upon you, “I must apologise, young sir. I am afraid I shall not be taking on personal entertainment for tonight.”

“I wish not for company, but I must ask for a private room for I have questions not meant for prying ears,” He responds, his face not alluding to any emotion that you may take advantage of.

The brothel madam has been watching you from the second floor, her pipe in hand with a grimace on her lips. She waits for you to cover your mouth, to reach for the hanging decor of your hairpins. When none of it happens, the older woman closes her eyes and takes a puff from her pipe. Your eyes once shifting between her and the young man in front of you, his gaze ever steady, settles. You can only resign to whatever he wishes, acquiescing and bringing him to the upper floors of the building.

Tucked away within the labyrinth of rooms that lay within Zimeng House, a pot of warm tea and two cups sit between the two of you. The sounds of pleasure and revelry just barely at the edges of your mind, gentle woody incense wafting through the air as the night wind breezes in. Sitting opposite of you is the young man, grey hair long and bound at the ends, his complexion blemishless and those eyes, placid as a frozen lake, bore into you, as though trying to figure out something within you. His sword, impossibly long and not possibly able to be used by mortal hand, remains unsheathed by his side. This young man was quite obviously a cultivator, a fact that was only all the more by the odd oppressive aura he seemed to emit.

It takes a moment for him to speak, for any of you to speak yet when he does, there is now a susceptibility to his voice, one that sounded younger, one that belonged more to a child than an adult, “Did you have a son twenty years ago?”

The question, no matter the tinge of pregnability in his words, was sudden. Certainly not the kind of question one asks a high-ranking courtesan, and certainly not the kind of question asked in good faith, not in your field of work, not from a cultivator.

“If I did, that should be no business of yours.”

“And should that son still be alive? Would it then become my business?” He responds just as fast, still holding eye contact.

It is then that you notice the birthmark upon his hand, a little wing like discoloration below his knuckle. The bow of his lips so familiar to you, the curve of his eyes and the manner in which he holds himself. An image of you, an image of you distorted by the features of another and the dew of immortality.

You avert your gaze, taking in a breath before looking at him, the breath in your chest still and tight in your lungs. Rising from your seat, he lets you approach him with tentative steps, feet padding against wooden floors before you sit by his side. Pathetically, you could only rasp out, “How is he? If he is alive?”

The young man leans closer, eyes of wonder and recognition. As though just as affected by emotions deemed frivolous by his people, he manages to whisper, “He is doing well.” Then, he backtracks, a notion he appears not quite used to, correcting himself quietly, “And he has missed you quite so.”

For mother and child, it is very often that words are not needed to understand one another. Your arms that once cradled his infant form in a time long ago, wrap around him as he tucks his nose into the crook of your neck, his much broader form encapsulating yours as tears slowly soak through your silks. You cannot blame him, for even tears dew at your lower lashes.

“Mother, your son has found you.”

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When your son had disappeared, you had not the chance to even name him. How could you? For someone like you, someone who could barely even read let alone write, you had always intended to give him some name that would bless him most, perhaps wish for him to become a great scholar or businessman. Yet he has returned to you as Yuanhua, ‘first magnificence’, and what truth he has grown up as.

Your darling son, pride of Fengyi Mountain, saviour of the innocent and bane of the demonic, how magnificent he has become. You could be no less prouder of him, proud that he would rise above the status of a courtesan’s son. He is so much more than you could hope he could have become, and it fills your heart with an emotion you can not fully deem delight.

You must admit however, you did not think he would become such a clingy child in his adulthood. You suppose that he is only trying to make up for the years lost on the both of you, for his loss of childhood vulnerability and yours to overindulge. It has only been a few months since he has reunited with you, yet many of your sisters have already started looking forward to his visits. They would wait at the windows that face the busy streets and look for the white head of hair towering above the crowd. It has come to the point that they would ask you about him, albeit your relation not known to them, asking whether he treats you well, whether he was looking to retire from the jianghu and get a wife of his own. All those times, you could only laugh and urge them to ask themselves, after all, that son of yours was by no means a person you could control.

Today, he has come once more, now resting his head upon your lap as his form curls in towards you. Yuanhua is quite definitely one of the larger men you have had the experience of being with, and he is careful to not put his full weight, though he is still that sticky child, holding one of your hands within his much larger, colder ones.

A small laugh escapes you, he all but rushed to your side the moment you entered the room, and with his recent absence, you can only surmise that he was sent away on a mission that took up far more energy than he would have liked.

“Hua’er, have they been working you too hard?” You hum, rubbing his knuckles with the pad of your thumb. Reaching for the osmanthus cakes plated on a table, cakes you had been gifted and intended for him to try, you bring up a cut piece for him, “Come, eat some pastries.”

He obliges, obediently opening his mouth to accept your offering. Watching him so happily eat, with an overfond smile on your lips, your other hand reaches to pet his head, an act that has him leaving into your touch, far more than you thought already possible.

“I only wanted to be with you sooner,” He murmurs.

You sigh, a reigned smile pulled across your painted lips, still allowing him to hold onto you. “Your old mother can be on her own, don’t rush even if you can.”

The thought of him being injured, no matter the fact that he is far more powerful than most, tugs at your heart strings, yanking on them with a ferocity. Though you have lived 20 years grieving your child, knowing that he is alive and that is a tangible, actual person that you now so unfailingly adore, the idea that he may possibly be harmed is torturous.

“What if you get hurt, hm?”

Yuanhua does not respond, merely tightening his grip on you as another sigh escapes. The melody for tonight’s performance comes to the surface of your mind, and as you hum and pat his back in rhythm, he lets you. Your son lets you move as you please, all too happy to follow along as he fully relaxes on you and flutters his eyes shut.

It is then that you hear the sliver of conversation from the outside, spoken in hushed voices yet deafeningly audible through paper and wood. For your ears that have grown keen to hear news of your son, it is only natural, yet it is now that you wish you could not.

“Why does that cultivator keep visiting her?” A man’s voice sounds from outside, he sounds familiar, perhaps one of the more frequent guests.

Another responds, another man and another guest. He sounds younger, his voice louder than the first’s, “You know, I heard that those people up in Fengyi Mountain are meant to be celibate.”

You look down to your son, his eyes shut and his posture relaxed. He appears to have not a worry in the world, long lashes kissing the apples of his cheek. High nose, sword straight brows and thin lips, sometimes you think you see the face of another upon his. Your child, who appears so much like you and another, it pains you.

“Do you think…?”

“That he’s a philanderer? Why not? They all think they’re above us and yet look at them,” One of them scoffs, a supercilious tone to his lilt.

The other laughs at that, odd mirth tinging his voice as their footsteps sound further and further down the hallways, “And he goes and picks the most expensive one of them all.”

“Hah! At least he has taste.”

Your heart seems to drop all throughout such vulgar conversation. You have been no stranger to slander, have been the victim of it many times in your life, but your son? Your son who had lived 20 years as an ascetic, finally allowed comfort within his mother, who is unfortunately a courtesan. How cruel this world is, to reunite mother and son only to make it so the interactions you may have, be tainted by the very career that has kept you alive long enough to be with him until now.

You look down to him once more, he is looking at you, milky jade eyes warm with adoration as his fingers interlock yours, tightly. He does not deserve such talk, he does not deserve to be the butt of such a cruel joke. There is nothing you would not give for him, and it is now that you yearn to give him freedom from such mockery. One last night, you shall have him one last night and he will return to Fengyi Mountain as their pride once more

Your son squeezes your hand and turns towards your womb. Yuanhua asks a question so casually it was as if he were a child asking his mother for another story, his voice soft as though any louder and you would crumble to dust, “Would mother still dote on this me if you knew what I have done?”

“You are still my son,” You whisper, bringing your hands up to kiss the back of his hand. Your eyes close, and it takes you a moment to continue, your throat tight and your breath stilled, “There is nothing that you can do that will make me hate you.”

“I will always love you.”

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The night is young, the smell of spicy oud burns through the air as the music of revelment reverb through the building. People of all backgrounds gather to find entertainment, bliss and temporary companionship. When the sun rises, the remnants of the night’s debauchery shall remain a stain upon the soul, no less visible to the judge of hell than the shameful walk one must make in pursuit of escape.

Not tonight, for rather than performing musicality or sensuality, you are granted the rare visit of an old friend.

Dipping your head, hairpins of tinkling gold graze the curves of your cheek as you greet the man before you, “My lord, it is an honour to serve you tonight.”

“Ms. Shen, no need for the formalities,” He waves you off, urging you to come closer, an offer you take. His voice is low and humming, reassuring and assuaging, he smiles at you as crows feet appear at the ends of his eyes, “How long has it been since we’ve known each other?”

When you respond to such with a familiar smile of your own, he takes your hand in his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. Truly, Lin Zheng is still your most loyal, and kindest guest. 23 years and he has yet to request another, it has come to the point that practically everyone in Zimeng House knows to see him situated in the better rooms and call for you to attend to him. It was hard to believe that this wizened 4th ranking court official before you was the county magistrate who blushed redder than a jujube when he first saw you.

His eyes ponder upon your visage, and it is a long seeded regard that seeps from them. You follow along his example, allowing your eyes to trail along his high nose and sword straight brows, features that lent him regal apertures that rivalled the imperial bloodline.

With a solemnity that could have rivalled even the underworld judges, he calls upon you, “Have you always been this beautiful? Even now you rival the ladies of Chunning House.”

“You flatter me, I am but an old maid compared to the young flowers of today,” Laughing, a kind of shyness overtakes you as you avert your gaze.

Lin Zheng only reaffirms his praise, bringing a hand to your cheek as he gently redirects your gaze to his, “No less lovely, what man would not feel shame for having not experienced your touch?”

Times must have truly changed, for when it was he who sputtered in diffidence, it seems to have become your turn to grow shy at his action. Still, you do not turn away from his affection. The older man reaches for the jug of wine on the low table and pours out a conservative amount into the two cups, offering the first to you.

As he hands the cup of wine to your waiting hand, the window shutters open with a violent swing. The sound of wood banging against wood and the tip of a sheath tapping against the floorboards further drag the two of you out of the intimate atmosphere contained within the room. Clad in dark robes and with his long silvery hair flowing in the night wind, the man calls for you.

“Mother.”

Controlled and yet, the breach of something more, something raw and broken lies beneath his low voice. He remains at the balcony, and it is as though the world has gone quiet for solely his presence. The oppressive energy that had once made you wary of him when you first met trickles out, those eyes of his that which had once been warm, seethes and rages

His voice cracks, just the slightest as he directs the heavy burden of his gaze onto you,“You sent me away, so you could entangle with another?”

“Hua’er,” You managed to breathe out, a slip of vulnerability that you had so painstakingly tried to keep within.

Li Zheng, who though had no clue who was before him, moved to put himself in front of you, pushing you behind him as he places himself as a physical barrier between the two of you. This man who grew up a scholar and took no interest in the world of martial might, still saw fit to protect you over himself. Yet this one action, this one innocent action only enraged your child.

“You said you loved me, but you would let others touch you so familiarly?”

This sudden accusation confuses you, and you rightfully respond to such an inquiry with confusion, “What are you talking about? This is my job.”

“I see,” He mutters, and it is then that you see how dilated his pupils have become, thin jade encircling a pitch dark void. Yuanhua approaches the two of you, footfalls slow and practised and cutting through the room like a knife, and that breach of violent emotion finally rips through. That though his very movements were the epitome of discipline, the manner in which he seethes reveals far more than his actions. A laugh of unconstraint leaves his lips, one that echoes in your ears before he finally sneers,“I see.”

“Yuanhua!” You can only pathetically yell out, hoping that he would come to his senses and cease whatever he seemed so hellbent on unleashing.

In a move far too swift for either of you to anticipate, he brings the pommel of his sword down upon Lin Zheng’s head, a harsh crack reverberating through the room. You could only watch as your dear friend’s form fell limp onto the ground with a thud, your son kicking him away without care, as though he was merely a pebble in his path.

With the moonlight as his halo, he looms above you, broad shouldered and stalwart. You do not recognise the man before you, do not recognise the fervency in his eyes nor the concupiscence within them. His sword is abandoned in favour of covet, and your son, your dear son pushes you to the cold ground. Though gentle with a hand to the back of your head, the rushed action still sends a dull ache through your form.

“Mother,” He breathes, rosy flush to his jade white complexion as his breath fans against your skin. Nosing along an imaginary line down your neck, lips ghosting over pulse points as he murmurs, “Don’t leave me, not again.”

He tugs down the front of your ruqun in one swift motion, exposing tender skin and bare chest to the night chill. He takes a moment to admire you. Then, without hesitation, he latches onto the soft bud and starts to suck, his tongue swirling around as it rips a weak whine from your lips. Though you push against him in some meagre attempt to put some distance between your two forms, he merely strengthens his efforts as a hand moves to squeeze your hips, the other cupping and kneading the neglected breast.

Enervated by his fervid actions, it was as though even your voice wished to give up, whether from use or carnality, you were not sure. “Stop it–!”

He ignores you, and that hand that once gripped the very hips that birthed him, sinks deeper into its origin. Pushing through cavernous desire, Yuanhua rips a particularly loud keen from your throat. It is a sound more beautiful than your skillful playing, more mellifluous to his ears than any other sound, and he smiles.

Fengyi Mountain may have taken him away from you for a reason illogical, but that is in the past, burned in the embers of the future. When he finally takes you away from this establishment, away from those greedy eyes, then he will truly be reunited with you, mother and son.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #x reader #original writing

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zombeebunnie · 2 days

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Trembling Essence:💙Script progress + Updates💙

Hello and welcome new followers, long time no see! I was very busy most of this month, but I am back and ready to continue from where I left off on the game! This game development post might be a bit long but I tried to condense everything! :]

"How are things going so far?":

It's going slow and steady! I haven't been able to do too much these past few weeks, however, I wrote a few parts out before I got too busy and couldn't do anything else.

I want to be very careful when it comes to spoilers but, based on your choices, some of these areas will give off immersive cozy/homelike vibes that really express Noah and the player(Y/N)'s view towards each other. In the old 2023 script I was very new to writing so the small semi-hints of romance weren't the entire focus compared to the horror aspect but there's a better balance between both genres now and I'm still aiming for a meaningful slow burn versus it just being all over the place. :] I liked writing them a whole bunch which lead to a lot of these taking place in the mid/end of Day 4+, they just need to be placed in specific areas that call for it. With that being said, it felt really comfy adding key details about Noah and creating meaningful sections in the game. I was even going to draw out some of the unseen script/scenes but I believe the best thing to do is give deeper lore from the [Extended Demo] first. Even though my writing style has improved I still have to fix the multiple pacing issues I wrote last year.

"Playtester's advice":

I wanted to continue working through Noah's backstory but I kept having moments where I'd get sidetracked into wanting to fix up the start of the game again. Eventually, I talked to my play testers about it and they gave me a few encouraging pointers.

To help keep my process at ease, I will fix the beginning of the game when I take breaks from writing up Noah's backstory. :]

I talked about this during early 2024 but the start of the game that leads up to the cabin is still getting reworked. I was able to get some of it fixed for the [Extended Demo] but I wasn't done. Things are still up in the air but, I will say that I have a better view of everything than I did before. :] Another priority that needs fixing are the backgrounds! I've improved a lot on drawing and they need to be optimized. When you first start up the game, you wake up in a holed out tree in the swamp with the choice to leave this area and possibly end up in the forest. I was going for a very immersive form of symbolism that only a few noticed but, I believe I can do a better job about this. Unfortunately I don't have any new backgrounds to show right now but maybe next week I'll have some finished up! :]

"Art process/Noah's sprite sheets":

As far as Noah sprite sheet goes, it's still in sketch mode.

I didn't draw anything since I was gone so I need to do a few warm ups before I get to them. There are some old drawing prompts I wrote down and old sketches that I never got a chance to doodle so hopefully I can get to them at some point with some attached lore. :,]

My Q&A / Ask box has been reset!

Thank you to those who have sent in asks in the past, unfortunately they all disappeared except for 1 while I was gone. I have no idea what happened but I can only guess it just got reset.

If you have any questions about Trembling Essence/Noah feel free to ask or resend them in here please. This makes it easier for me to see and answer accordingly! I would really like to hear from you guys!

This is all I have to share so far, Thank you to everyone for the continued support and patience while I was gone! I was ready to accept the interest for this game to fade out and coming back to see that it didn't happen makes me happy, I really appreciate it. :,]

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derpinette · 24 days

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SPERG YOUR HEART OUT

#EVERYONE #NOW !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#& FOREVER #i love it when my friends &/or mutuals post about their interest & Passions i will like your posts but really i Loved them.#i deleted some tags because they might be interpreted as weird(er than usual) but 0_0 i am ♯Passionate about ♯Passion (for fashion - Bratz)#still kind of feel like a worthless human being but i secured another hangout in like a week so yayyy ^_^#I GET TO BOTHER SOMEONE TOO NOW i just wish people did that to me too why am i like always the one raving #literally have to beg my friend to give me updates on her things even if i normally hate it even i go out of my way to look for things #for us to discuss -_- GIRL please i am for real not just faking for politeness who do you think i am I WANT TO KNOW #so effin excited OMG i have like so much to say & the greatest thing is that this girl has no knowledge at all about my Thing #so i can explain from the very beginning You literally have no idea how much i practiced the conversation in my head #ever since she told me & she said she wanted me to go on & talk about it more i have been Devising My Plan #OMG YAYYYY ^_^_^_^_^_^ AIMU SO HEPI AAARRRGHHHHHGSJDJSHSJDHSHSG #& OFC i had to plug it in the first time i met her in person i just could not help myself there was an NF on that day & i told her i wanted #to catch it i had to go in the end for a different reason & BTW it was such a whiplash the show itself was so fun but the winner... 0_0 NO.#next i will ask her about berserk & maybe even read it so we can talk about it because she really likes it #i dropped it when i was 14 because the laptop i was using to read it was complete crap Just like mine is RN #like a section of my keyboard is completely dead T_T so i have to use the on-screen one...

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gentaroukisaragi · 8 months

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Ultraman Blazar's Salutations From Episodes 1-5 (ft. Bazanga, Leviera, and a sleeping Dorgo)

Episode 1 as well as the rest of the series can be found on youtube for free with eng subtitles and an eng audio track if that interests you

[Video description: Ultraman Blazar, a colossal grey humanoid alien with red and blue markings on his body, and blue markings on his face, performs his signature salutation in several different places and times. This salutation consists of raising his arms up to the sky in a circular motion, and bringing his knee up before stepping into a lunge and scooping his arms down and upward.

From episode 1, in a city at night, the camera watches from below, as Blazar performs his salutation and his markings flash red and blue. The shot cuts to a wider one, showing off the buildings and Blazar's opponent, Bazanga, a prawn-like Kaiju. After his salute, Blazar moves his hands into a guarded, fighting stance.

From Episode 2: Blazar stands against the bright blue day sky in a small fishing village, with much shorter buildings. He faces the camera directly as he does his salutation, and the camera zooms in on him as he does it and his markings flash red and blue once more.

From Episode 3: Blazar is framed in a head and shoulder shot and smothered in smoke as his colour time, a big round spot on his chest that is normally blue, flashes red. Once more he faces the camera as he does his salutation, before flying off, kicking up dirt in his takeoff.

From episode 4: The camera pans over a cityscape, with a highway at the front of the scene. Once more it is night time and Blazar faces off against a monster among many many buildings. The monster is Leviera, a sea-angel themed kaiju whose face is open to reveal flashing yellow lights as Blazar does his salutation from the side. Leviera is aggressively ready to go.

From episode 5: Blazar stands behind the sleeping kaiju, Dorgo, who looks mostly like a hill of dirt in this shot. He performs his salutation, and immediately begins to push the sleeping Kaiju back to its proper resting place. The shot switches to one of Blazar from behind, as he continues to push Dorgo back into place, among the green hills and mountains of the Japanese countryside. With a thump, Dorgo returns to his resting spot, and Blazar turns to face the camera as he jumps up into the air to fly away.

End video description.]

#captain eyebrows #fuck it. into the tag #Ultraman Blazar #this is rough but im gonna try to make it better #i want to have the series' worth by the time its over #ep 3 is his first post fight salutation. the special if it has one doesnt count bc its a recap. ep 6 doesnt have one (presumably bc its #Earth Garon but i still feel cheated out of one) ep 7 doesnt have one which makes sense bc 2 parter but still. i want these.#ep 8 is where the next part will begin if i have one of these for the next section. i might just wait until the series ends #depends on how i feel/when i remember ya know #okay now its time to whine #Blazar! Do more salutations!#that one article i reblogged says this act might be in reference to praying to a higher power for a good hunt #but ive been comparing it mentally to like. bowing before a fight with an opponent you know. a sign of respect a sign of a fight.#hell the fact that i call it a salutation is because it reminds of the yoga move sun salutation which isnt a fighting thing but is a #salutation. and blazars thing is about communication/trying to communicate #ah well. as usual hope i get more info on blazar asap #i love him so much <3

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youhavethewrong · 8 hours

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do you guys remember when Attack On Titan had a fucking Looney Tunes Babies style spin off where all the characters were in junior high and the titans were just bullies and eren was mad at them because they ate his hamburg steak and it was legitimately better than the original

#yui rambles #dont ask me why i randomly remembered #i often think about attack on titan #about how its first season was one of the most promising new shows at the time #it felt so refreshing and full of life and energy and ideas and something to say #and then you reach a certain point in the story and youre like #...huh this is weird #and you keep reading/watching and start wondering what's wrong #and then at a certain point it just hits you #and youre like woah! wait!#i get it!#the author is not a good writer!#this pacing sucks! the reveals suck!#i get it now! the beginning of the story was a fluke!#attack on titan's legacy was carried on an extremely promising intro section and a very competently made anime adaptation #but not even the sick art style and incredible action scenes could save a story so shoddily told imo #and then you reach the end and its like wow. so the thing you had to say was awful.#sorry i dont mean to swing at a hornets nest #i just think about it because when a story nosedives that hard its like. a case study for me #whatevs this is all my opinion no disrespect if you like it #but even if you like it i think you HAVE to be aware that the point being made with the story is a pretty fucking terrible one #anyway this post got fucking derailed in the tags lmao my point is attack on titan junior high was legit funny and had a better ending lmao

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perexcri · 1 year

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you and i were fireworks that went off too soon - [byler week - day 4]

title from: fourth of july by fall out boy

dedicated to: the lake i lived next to in rural [STATE REDACTED] for 3/4 of my college years

It’s something that haunts him, of course.

It’s the colorful bursts of light he sees when he blinks too fast, the popping in his ears once the pressure builds up, a cool sluice of water against his ankles, and the slickness of forearms beneath his fingers. It comes to him in waves like the ones that lapped against the shore, cuts into the soles of his feet like the juts of limestone buried beneath the mud, invades his sinuses like the scent of dry, overgrown grass and burnt-orange pine needles blanketing the land.

Summer is usually the time of freedom, when the sun stays out far past when it should have gone to sleep and coaxes people out of their homes and into hazy, smoke-filled nights. The world is burning with color, the earth warm beneath his feet, and the hours trickle away in untamed drops of afternoon showers and the lingering blue wash of dusk. When he was younger, summer seemed the season of possibilities: for adventures, for discoveries, for reading new books and seeing new sights, for slipping from the cloak of shadows the rest of the year seemed draped in to finally embrace the warmth of life reignited in his chest.

Once, it had even felt like the possibility of something more.

Mike’s mouth drops into a scowl as he stares at the face of the lake. The book between his ribs and arm presses into his side just a little harder, his hands are shaking, and even after twelve years, he thought he’d be done with these pitiful twists of hope he feels every summer he returns here. He can make it down the main street of the town without worries, even if he does double-takes at every brunette he sees pass by in his car’s smudged windows, and he can make the winding trail down to the lakeside just fine. He can unlock his family’s summer home and breathe in its scent of musty sheets, stale coffee, and woodsmoke of vacations past. Hell, he can even toss his pile of books onto the kitchen table and listen to it groan under the strain of his literature Ph.D. program’s third year, a further reminder that time has passed and his life, for better or worse, has changed.

He’s always fine until he sees the ever-shifting face of the lake, how it mischievously gleams under both sun and moon. That’s when his heart convulses into these ugly, gut-mashing twists and his body gets forcibly wrenched back in time. 1999 dissolves around him like pixels on the screen of a video game being shut off, and suddenly, 1987 burns against his skin. His parents are in the lakehouse, there’s fireworks popping colors all across the sky, and the boy he’d seen around town the past few summers has his fingers tangled with Mike’s, and he’s tugging him towards the lake, his mouth flush with moonlight as he says, What’s the worst that can happen?

A lot, actually. Sometimes, you turn over a stone and discover something either wonderful or frightening, and it slips from your fingers before you have a chance to decide which one it is. Sometimes, the summer fades into the new school year, and there’s no way to contact the only person you’ve ever felt like this for, and when you come back the next year, he’s nowhere to be seen.

And now, he’s got nothing to show for it but the way his heart twists and turns inside the empty cavity of his chest, and the images that haunt the poetry he submits to the campus literary magazine: lakes frosted with moonlight, summer humidity pressing hot between chests and mouths, fingers curled into the damp fringes of hair, distant sparks of light that could be stars or fireflies, though the narrator is always too preoccupied to tell the difference.

He glowers at the lake and how it sucks all the light from the sun, steals its colors to shade water’s surface instead. The sky is growing dimly bruised with purples and magentas and oranges, the water burns scarlet from the light, and the navy cloth of night is quickly overtaking it all.

The book presses more forcefully into his side; it shakes. He’s twenty-eight, and he should be over this by now, but he can’t help that every time he sees the water, he thinks of how it tasted pressed between their mouths, or how slick it felt against the other boy’s skin, or the way they’d forcefully embraced after clambering back onto the shore, the other boy’s back crinkling into the reedy grasses of the shore, Mike sprawled on top of him, alternating between pressing his ear to the other boy’s warm chest to hear the racing pulse of his heart, or else tilting his head up to admire how the colors of light burst against the other boy’s skin and eyes. They rained on him in showers of colors Mike thinks couldn’t exist except for that summer, and how they shaded every single other moment they spent glued to each other’s sides after that. He’s twenty-eight, and he should be over this by now, but nothing beats the feeling of weightlessness that comes from falling, falling, falling down into love when you’re sixteen.

“This is stupid,” he mutters, which is something he tells himself a lot, but it’s mostly to remind himself that twelve years of a pitiful crush on a boy he knew for one summer are, in fact, a little ridiculous, and he’d been ridiculous to decide to do his summer research at his family’s old lakeside home. He’d been studying the Romantics the past three years, and for some reason, he thought this was his last chance at letting their wayward paths cross once more. At this point, it isn’t even about his own wish fulfillment–he simply needs peace, to press his fingers into the other person’s wrist and know he’s alive so they can say their goodbyes and part in peace.

The water laps against the shore, just a little closer to his battered sneakers.

“Stupid,” he repeats before forcefully tucking a chunk of his hair behind his ears, turning on his heels, and storming back to the comforting recesses of the lake house.

Summer is the liquidity of time: he passes through the barriers of day and night, today and tomorrow with ease, sleeping at odd hours, poring over dusty volumes of poetry and diaries he’d checked out in haste from his university’s library. There’s more coffee than blood running through his veins, and when he goes outside, it’s only ever to drive into town to buy groceries or refill his car’s tank. He doesn’t look out the back windows at the lake, and he sure as hell doesn’t try to breathe in more of the musk of pine trees than he has to.

He’s safe, cocooned in his family’s old home, huddled under blankets against the frigid wash of AC he keeps steadily pumping through the vents. He hunches at the table, sprawls on the couch, curls up on the bed in languid fits of sleep, and the taste of undercooked pasta or frozen dinners becomes the all-too familiar fuel to his days of research, note-taking, and thesis writing.

When he does pull out his old weathered notebook of poetry, it’s only ever to scratch down a few lines in tired replication of the old greats: John Keats, Lord Byron, Pushkin. He used to go outside for hours and try to capture the endless summer delights in shoddy, amateur lyrics, but he knows better than to let his pens fall into those familiar strokes now, and he’s fine in the dusty corners and wilting walls inside, anyway.

All dependent variables are removed from the equation, and his summer becomes one of controlled focus: he will get this research done, and he will focus on the next stage of his life, and he will not, for any reason whatsoever, follow the pitiful tugs of his heart towards some vain hope that the other boy will remember, that he’ll show up again, that he’ll even want to come back to this lonely corner of the country on some vague inclination that Mike might be here, too.

Except for one day in early July, when there’s a faint knock at the door that makes his head jerk up from the volume of Coleridge’s poetry he’s been mindlessly thumbing through. It’s as soft as a breeze off the face of the lake, and for a moment, he can almost convince himself he’d only misheard the breath of life around him.

Until there’s another, slightly louder, unmistakable staccato: knock knock knock.

He wrenches open the door and is met with hazel eyes he’d only ever had the courage to admire under the colors of fireworks, moonlight, and the last dying rays of summer sunsets. His hair’s been trimmed from the shaggy bangs he’d once worn, and it’s strange for it to be mid-summer and him to be clad in jeans and not shorts, a collared shirt and not a polo.

The volume of poetry slips out of Mike’s hand and falls, painfully, on the arch of his left foot.

“Is it really you?” he asks through a wince of pain.

Will grins, his face alight. “Yeah, it’s me.” There’s a beat, then, with a quirked eyebrow, he asks, “You remember?”

How could I not? Mike thinks, drinking in the matured features of the boy he only knew for a summer, now grown-up and full and alive.

Once more, summer becomes a time of possibility, and the love kept captive in Mike’s chest feels a little less small and derisive. He feels whole and electric, like he could dissolve into the brief flares of light and color of those fireworks from long ago.

For the first time in twelve years, the world seems blossoming, full of possibility, and when Mike reaches out, he’s greeted by that feeling of life beneath his fingers, a chance to know that this is real.

With a grin, he realizes that the possibilities are endless.

---

the lake in question:

#byler #byler fic #bylerweek2023 #ficlet #summer love #anyway i highly recommend living next to a lake in rural [REDACTED] and staring at the water while the sun sets #also there was an lgbtq+ campground across the lake that used to play party music :D #anyway i would have had no ideas for this prompt if it weren't for remembering the lake so!!#also i feel like i could explore this idea a lot more #like it kinda ended where it was just beginning #hrrmmmm #thinking thoughts thoughting thinks #also sorry for weird spacing between a couple of sections #there's gonna be line breaks on ao3 but idk what im doing on this hellsite so!! have fun with that!!

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