#1 our favorite skull kid has always felt that he was different and wants to look different
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
gensnix · 1 year ago
Text
Hey zelda fandom 
do any of you have headcanons that only you seem to have? I’d love to here them 
One of my favorite headcanons that i have is that Skull kid was born a gerudo male along side Ganondorf unfortunately for Skull kid the gerudo chose Ganondork instead of him since they were afraid of the strange anomaly that was 2 gerudo men being born at the same time and thought it would bring tragedy to them 
9 notes · View notes
media-mel · 2 years ago
Text
More film/show quick reviews
I Am Not Okay With This (2020) - ok this is a series but shhhh! I LOVED this. The main girl is SOOO likeable and funny to me. Sad it was cancelled, now I want to read the comic to find out what happens next…
Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975) - I did watch this once as a kid, but shh. Very quippy and quotable, I kept thinking of various KH crack videos with dubs from this LOL.
Polar (2019) - More camp than I expected LOL. The vibes between Montana and the rest of the film feel like two different movies. In terms of women roles, it feels uh.. pre-Gamer Gate… CW: long sex scene, fatphobia, torture, and the dog dies…
The Spider Man Trilogy (2002, 2004, 2007) - Okay I actually genuinely love how camp these movies are. Love the camera movement. Still really surprised how good the 2004 film is!
The Irishman (2019) - god this movie was so long and for what! LOL. Fantastic performances though. And I got used to the de-aging VFX, even if they caught me off guard at first. Still, perhaps I wasn't the audience this movie was for because I really felt it was so long...
Venom + Venom Carnage (2018, 2021) - Wow I really just… really do not fucking care for car chase scenes LOL. These movies were alright, but honestly I probably will never watch them again haha. Venom and Eddie were funny! I saw glimpses of the sexuality that all the fans were bonkers about (though it was weaker than I expected based on said fans reactions lmao).
Titan AE (2000) - Very very y2k movie LOL. The rock music is sooo funny and does not fit the sci fi at ALL imo lmao. I do prefer Treasure Planet for Jim and Silver’s relationship, so I wish the emotional relationships were stronger in this movie. But still a fun movie. Stith4Ever. Why was Akima’s skull so fucking long.
The Hunger Games films (2012, 2013, 2014, 2015)- I know that these movies ironically fulfill the very notion I've heard the books were against (making a entertaining spectacle of dark topics, among other things), I do really like them 🙈 My favorite will always be Mocking Jay pt 1 just because I love that underground-jumpsuit aesthetic LOL. Lock me away, boys 🚓🚨
The Super Mario Bros. Movie (2023) - Okay other than Illumination’s loathsome “Our movies cannot slow down at all even once” problem, this movie was great. They made Mario and Luigi. So. fucking. adorable. And Bowser was great ofc.
American Psycho (2000) - I DO think this is a good film, but I also can’t BELIEVE this satirical doofus is the guy so many men project themselves onto LOL. I wasn’t expecting a theme on conformity, but to me its what makes the movie interesting.
The King's Man (2021) - This delivered what I expected: fun characters, action scenes that are unique and actually interesting, epic music that makes you feel like you’re with old friends. And it delivered what I did not expect: The WEIRDEST erotic scene I have EVER seen LMAO.
Agent Cody Banks (2003) - Saw this so young I don’t really remember it. This movie has a much higher budget than I remember LOL. Not really innovative but it was for kids, and I remember loving it.
Nope (2022) - okay okay I will admit at first I was like “okay how does the monkey connect” but my dumbass didn't realize Jupe had been purposely giving horses to the UFO, so realizing that Jupe tried taming the UFO in the way he thought he tamed the monkey really made me love this film even more. No wonder Jordan Peele's considered the next Steven Spielberg!
Rope (1948) - NGL I was hoping Rupert would go along :/ This would be so fun on see on stage, I enjoyed it!
Psycho (1960) - I enjoyed this too! One scene that will stick with me is the camera shift in Norman and Marion’s conversation when mothers are brought up. Very interesting cinematography there.
Hoodwinked (2005) - l watched this friends lmao; I was very hesitant, but I gotta admit it was funnier than I expected. The various POVs really makes it a unique animated comedy.
Fight Club (1999) - God first 12 minutes of this film I thought I was going fucking crazy! But hey you know I get it now. This is a fun movie. It feels like the opposite reaction to consumerism and conformity than American Psycho’s, an interesting pair of movies.
Three Pines (2022) - Once again, a show not a film, but I really enjoyed this series. Loved the setting, the atmosphere, the characters, the mysteries. Even though its a detective show with murder, I still found it oddly cozy enough to be a comfort show for the future LOL. Maybe it's because Armand is just that likeable!
0 notes
mrslilyrogers · 5 years ago
Text
Betrayal Part 7
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Summary: (AU) Set in New York. You and Bucky have been married for 5 years. He’s the love of your life and you are his. At least, you thought you were until he started slipping away from you, coming home late and smelling of another woman’s perfume? You are in denial. Are you just losing your mind or are you really losing him?
Author’s notes: I’m so so sorry this took so long! I redid the whole thing. We’re going to back up a bit in this chapter and visit the past. Please check the warnings before reading. Also, my requests are open. Send ideas if you’re feeling particularly angsty! Or even fluff, I’d like to try my hand at it. As always, let me know what you think of this chapter! For tags, please send in ask! 
Warnings: Cheating, Angst, Abuse, Swearing
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4  Part 5 Part 6
Tumblr media
2 years ago.
Bucky tapped his fingers on the table as he checked his watch again. 8:15. Forty-five minutes late. Again. He let out a huge sigh, barely able to hold himself from scratching his eyes out. The curly-haired waitress went back to him with an apologetic look on her face, “I’m sorry, sir. My manager told me I really need to take your order now. There’s already a line waiting outside…” she let her sentence trail sheepishly. Bucky tried to ignore the heat creeping up his cheeks and gave her an unconvincing smile instead, reciting his order. When she left with visible relief on her face, he picked up his phone and called his wife again. He had tried to call and text her earlier but she hadn’t picked up.
“Hello?” Y/N answered, sounding frazzled and irritated as she cleaned up after her rude customer. He just had the audacity to leave a mess after complaining and whining about the wifi three times. She could barely keep her eyes from rolling. 
“Hey, babe. Where are you? I’ve been waiting for you at the restaurant,” Bucky’s defeated voice on the other line replied. 
“Oh shit!” She shrieked, attracting the heads of the other customers as she glanced at the clock on the wall. She had lost track of time. Bucky had been waiting for her for almost an hour. On their anniversary. Oh crap, crap, crap. 
“Oh my god, baby. I’m so sorry! I’m understaffed and I lost track of time! Could you please wait for me? I’m so sorry!” She quickly took off her apron and changed into the dress she had brought with her that morning for their date. Bucky had been planning this. He arranged for Lizzie’s babysitter and everything, practically bouncing off with excitement for this night. He wanted to try out this new restaurant and between raising Lizzie and making sure Winter Bakery was still making a profit, they haven’t seen much of each other lately. She just couldn’t find the time whereas Bucky’s stable position in Shield gave him more authority to delegate. And he literally had been trained for this for years. All those late-nighters at the university and all the grunt work he and Steve went through have finally paid up. They were at the top of their game, one of the youngest to acquire their positions. They were heroes in the investment banking world. Life was easy for him now, cherry on top of the cake. He only wished Y/N could be there with him. But she was still on shaky ground with her business and he fully understood that. 
“Of course! I already picked our appetizers though. They were trying their best to kick me out gently if I didn’t order anything,” 
“Oh, my poor Bucky. You should’ve flashed them your smile, charmed your way. They would’ve made you stay,” she replied, fixing her ponytail, not having the time to retouch her makeup anymore. This’ll just have to do. 
“Really, now. It was a waitress, you know.” He teased back. 
A beat before Y/N replied in mock seriousness. “In that case, don’t you dare. I’ll be there in 15!” 
“Wouldn’t dream of it. See you, babe. I love you--,” 
But before he could even finish his sentence, the line had dropped on the other end.  
_______________________________________________________________________
1 year ago.
“Daddy, look, apples!” Lizzie pointed from her seat in the grocery cart. Her legs swinging as she giggled at the heap of apples on their side. “Yeah, baby, you’re right.” Bucky replied absentmindedly, not even bothering to look as he stared confusedly at the bunch of green vegetables in front of him. The list Y/N gave him said scallions, but how the hell was he supposed to know which was which? Scallions, spring onions, green onions, they were all the same right? He suddenly regretted volunteering to do their grocery shopping alone, having no clue what half of the list Y/N prepared even meant. It was the weekend, they were all supposed to go together and then have a quick visit to the toy store after, for one more of Lizzie’s birthday gifts. She had just turned 3 a week ago and he couldn’t help but promise to let her pick out another doll. When Y/N had given him a pointed look while Lizzie clung on and gushed to him, he couldn’t help but to just give her a tiny shrug. He grew up with nothing, he was gonna give his little girl everything. But that morning when he thought the three of them finally had time to spend together, Y/N couldn’t make it again. She was having problems with her manager and had to go into work unexpectedly. Now, she wasn’t even answering his calls when he had to ask her about the most complicated grocery list he’s ever seen in his whole life. 
“Daddy, when are we getting my doll?” Lizzie asked again, looking up at him as she clutched her favorite white wolf stuffed toy. 
“After this, sweetheart.” He answered, preoccupied and calling Y/N again. This time when she didn’t answer, he gave up, grabbed the one nearest to him and hoped for the best. 
When he’s gotten halfway through the list and let Lizzie point at the snacks she wanted for school, he let his mind wander, when the hell had they become like this? He barely saw his wife anymore. Her problems with her bakery cafe, always dragging her away from them. He wished she could find competent people who would stay but if it weren’t her manager, it was her baker and so on. And if she was finally free, he’d be the one who was busy. It was hard and annoying but coupled that with taking care of an over-enthusiastic three-year-old, it was also exhausting.
He missed Y/N and he wished he could spend time with her. He completely understood that she was always needed at work. He had been through that in their early 20s, but they didn’t have a kid then to compete for their time and understanding it was different from actually living it. Their marriage had become stagnant. The banality of their everyday life, a stark contrast to how they used to be when they were just a couple of kids off college who rented a too-small apartment with his little sister, Becca. Time has flown and he’s finally achieved the life he’s always wanted; a big duplex apartment, a steady high-income job and a family he had always yearned for but never really knew he needed. All of the things he promised himself when he was younger and had nothing, he had now and more, yet there was still something missing. He missed the thrill of his life, chasing his dreams had always kept him motivated, distracted. Now that he had it all, he was at his wits’ end. Maybe it was because they were also growing apart, he could feel it. Y/N had always been able to make him happy and whole; he had always been able to rely on her emotionally. She was the better part of him and now that she was becoming distant, he hung onto her like a lifeline but his insistence on going on vacations as a family wherever his wife and daughter wanted went unheard, all his attempts at romancing cancelled. 
Even as he lined up now for the cashier, he whipped out his phone to text her. His hands had been busy typing when a brooding, dark-haired man stood behind him dressed in all black. His arms were muscled despite his age and the sagging skin on his right arm holding a tattoo of an odd skull with tentacles extending out of it was barely covered by his shirtsleeve. 
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t little Bucky,” a familiar husky voice mocked from behind him. 
Bucky immediately felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, the voice sending a deep chill down his spine, making him go rigid as he slowly turned around, the blood draining from him when he went face to face with the man who had made his life a living hell, the man who not only broken him physically but in spirit as well. Repeatedly. 
“You some errand boy now? I didn’t raise you to be like that, you know,” He continued to mock, tipping his chin to the cart with Lizzie still on it. 
“Do you know him, daddy?” She asked, holding her little wolf tighter as she watched the stranger warily. 
“Hey there, sweetie. Your daddy didn’t tell you about me? That’s weird. I raised him and your aunt Rebecca a long time ago. My name is Rumlow,” he flashed her a chilling smile, stepping closer to offer his hand. That’s when the fog in Bucky’s brain cleared. He moved with a lightning fast reflex, stepping in between them as he got in Rumlow’s face, fisting his collar harshly in one hand, 
“Don’t you dare go near her,” his dark and low voice had threatened, dripping venom. His eyes had dilated, almost turning black as he shoved him hard. Rumlow’s grating laugh echoed around them, bringing back all those awful memories he had buried deep inside his head. 
“I’ve taught you well, boy. Can’t say I’m not proud,” He clapped and actually smiled at him smugly. At this point, Lizzie had started crying making Bucky even more furious. 
“I don’t ever want to see your face again. And if you go near my daughter again, I’ll make you fucking regret it. Do you understand?” His threats went on deaf ears as Rumlow broke out into a full-fledged grin. 
“I’d love to see you try, James. You’ve grown soft,” He accused, eyeing Lizzie and the grocery he had still lined up, several heads already looking at them. 
“Lucky for you. I have a new son here,” He continued, tilting his head to the boy standing by his mostly empty cart-- save for the beer and the liquor. Bucky flicked his attention to the boy and he felt his world spin as he saw himself in him with his eyes haunted, wary and afraid. He couldn’t have been older than eight. Rumlow smirked at the look on Bucky’s face, already detecting the turmoil brewing inside him. He had succeeded. He always knew Bucky was weak, his emotions his downfall. The fear and guilt clearly written in Bucky’s eyes made Rumlow gloat as he talked to the boy, 
“What did I say, Bert, huh? You’ll only have food if you go get it yourself. Why are you still standing there?” 
The boy looked around the big grocery store, mentally taking note of the stalls and where they were currently at, memorizing it in case he got lost but still, he didn’t move. Bucky looked at Rumlow and he saw the same look he’d always had directed at him before, his taunting eyes daring the boy to go or face the consequences. 
“But I’m scared,” the boy replied, his voice small and frightened. Rumlow moved to him, bending his knees to get to his eye level. “Well then, you just won’t have to eat,” he told him in a hushed voice, pouting and mocking. 
Bucky didn’t have to hear it to know the exact words, buried memories rushing back to the surface. He heard it countless times directed at him. The boy ran to the nearest stall, his heart pounding and hoping Rumlow would still be at that same spot when he came running back. Bucky knew the feeling, it was like he was living it all over again. As much as he wanted to help, he was rooted to the spot, even Lizzie’s crying couldn’t move him. Rumlow stood back up and faced him. “You were always my favorite,” he told him proudly as he pushed his own cart away from them, no doubt to give Bert an even harder chance of finding him. 
Just before he got too far, he swiftly turned around, feigning innocence as he said, “Oh and by the way, say hi to Rebecca for me,”  His lips twisted up into a sneering smirk as he left, whistling without a care in the world. And just like that Bucky was moving, grabbing Lizzie and getting out of that store as fast as he could, hoping Rumlow would stay out of his life forever. 
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I’m never letting you do the groceries again!” Y/N screeched, a horrified look on her face as she stared at their fridge. After the incident with Rumlow, Bucky had brought Lizzie to the toy store, allowing her to buy all the stuffed toys and dolls she wanted instead of just the previously promised one doll. They had gone to lunch after, he kept Lizzie distracted as much as possible to forget the man she had just met. When she brought him up again, he told her it was just a friend he didn’t like very much and that she shouldn’t bring it up to her mom because it was nothing, he promised he never had to see that man again. Lizzie seemed satisfied with his answer and went back to her usual chirpy self. On their way home, they passed by another grocery store. He had mindlessly strolled the aisles and grabbed whatever he thought they needed, his head at a different place, much as it still is now.
“Bucky, we don’t need four cartons of milk, why would you even get this?” Y/N asked incredulously, shaking her head as she chuckled. 
Bucky had been staring off into space, not hearing what his wife had been saying. “Uhm, hello Bucky, you still with me?” she teased, waving a hand in front of his face. 
“Oh sorry, what was that?” He asked, glancing up at her from his perch by the kitchen counter. The coffee he had brewed, now cold in his hands. 
“Hey, you okay?” she asked, looking at him with concern in her eyes. 
“Yeah, just didn’t sleep well,” he waved dismissively. Y/N felt a pang of guilt. He’d been bugging her to spend more time together, planning outings and dates that she never seemed to find time for. 
“Well, I finally have the day free. Why don’t we go out, watch a movie or have a picnic? It’ll be fun,” she suggested, draping a hand over his shoulder while her chin rested on the other, her elbow propped up on the countertop to keep an eye level with him. 
“I can’t, I’m sorry, babe. I promised to meet up with Thor,” he moved away from her touch, standing up. Y/N looked at him confusedly, “Okay, how about after?”
“Gotta go over some accounts with Sam, sorry love. I’ll be back before dinner,” He gave her a quick kiss to the cheek before heading out. Y/N stared after him, brows knitted, before shrugging. She’ll just get her errands around the house done then. 
After pounding the punching bag in Thor’s gym incessantly, Bucky found himself aimlessly walking around the streets, he just needed to clear his head. The little boy’s face was still etched in his mind as he opened the door to a bar. A little too early, he knew but he couldn’t shake off the nagging thought plaguing his mind. 
How could he have let that monster roam free while he had lived his life without even a glance back? 
_______________________________________________________________________
Years ago.
Bucky held Becca’s hand as they ascended the rickety steps of their new home. They had just lost their parents and were now moving into an unfamiliar house. The case worker had told them they were lucky not to be separated and that they shouldn’t worry; they were getting a good foster father who would take care of them from now on. 
“I had interviewed him myself, you see,” She told the children, beaming with pride. 
“I couldn’t have found a better one for you guys, why, this area is still very close to where you grew up in. You could still visit your old haunts,” She ruffled Becca’s hair, trying to lighten the mood while the little girl just moved farther away, hiding behind her big brother. The worn-out door which at once might have been painted pristine white but now had chippings hanging off of it suddenly opened with a creak, a man with a charming and easy nature stepped out with a warm smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 
“You guys are here! Welcome, welcome, please come in!” He gestured humbly to his house. Becca squeezed Bucky’s hand tighter which he squeezed back in return, reassuring her. There was something about this man that wasn’t quite right. He seemed relaxed and easy-going, a smile continuously plastered on his face but there was a lethality to him that the children couldn’t seem to shake off, almost as if it was buried deep inside waiting to be unleashed. The case worker hung on his every word, giggling as they talked. She slapped his arm with the horrible looking tattoo that gave Becca a fright. The children barely moved from the sofa they were seated at after the introductions. 
“It’s usually like this. Don’t worry. They start to open up after a while,” the case worker sympathized with Brock, the man who introduced himself as their new foster father; he would treat them as his own, he had promised. 
“It’s alright. I understand. After my wife, I’ve been all alone and this, this is a blessing to me,” He told her as he turned to the children. Her hand strayed to his arm again and lingered there. 
“Oh, Brock, you are a good man. They’re great children, they won’t give you trouble.” She replied, patting his arm for reassurance. It didn’t miss Bucky how she hung off his every word. 
“But I should get going, I will check up on you in a week. Children, be good. You have my number if you need anything,” She stood up, smoothing the wrinkles on her blazer.
“Wait, you’re leaving us already?” Bucky couldn’t help the whine that escaped his voice. He didn’t miss the darkness that spilled over Brock’s face for a split second before he carefully put his smile back on again. 
“I’ll be back in a week, Bucky. Don’t you worry,” the case worker smiled before she walked out the door leaving him and Becca to a stranger. 
When she was out of sight, Brock had suddenly changed his demeanor. The smile on his face had turned into a scowl when he faced them. “Alright, listen up both of you,”  he boomed, his voice cruel. “Grab your things and get on to your rooms. I don’t want to hear any noise. No running around, and if I see you making a mess. You bet your little asses, you’ll pay for it,” He stood up and left them to their bags. 
“But Mr. Brock, I’m thirsty,” Becca piped up, looking up at him timidly. The man’s grating laugh rumbled as he threw his head back, shaking it.  
“That’s Rumlow to both of you, you hear me?  Don’t make that mistake again. Now, come here,” He said, beckoning both the children to come over. Once they reached the kitchen, he pointed to the high cupboard. “You see that?” He asked Becca, dropping low to get to her eye level. When she just nodded her head, he continued, “That’s where the glasses and the plates are. If you want something in this house, you go get it yourself. I’m not your nanny,” He held Becca’s face in his hand roughly. His fingers wrapped around her cheeks tight as he held her by the chin. Bucky felt his fists clench at his sides, pushing Rumlow as far as he could with his eleven year old might.  
“Stop that!” He screamed. Their parents never hurt them. How dare this man think he could do this to his little sister? 
“Oh you wanna be the man of the house?” Rumlow jeered, shoving Bucky back making him fall to the floor. Becca’s sniffles grew louder as she tried to stop her crying, her shoulders shaking from her effort. As Bucky lay sprawled, Rumlow scooted down menacingly to him, 
“You dare push me when you were just whining like a little bitch a while ago, you wanna man up? Alright, I’ll allow it,” he taunted, pondering it for a moment before his sinister smile came back on. “Let’s see how long you’ll last protecting your little sister.” He gripped his face by the chin, fingers squeezing exceedingly tight on his cheeks before he pushed him off and he hit the floor. 
“I won’t be some parent to you that you could twist around your little fingers, no. I’ll make you into the best man you could be. I will teach you about order. And order only comes through pain,” He drilled into him like a soldier as he stretched his legs back up, his measured steps going to the fridge to fish out a beer. He took a long gulp before he continued, 
“And the sooner you learned that, the better,” 
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bucky sat alone at one of the benches by the field at his school, choosing solitude over the roar of the cafeteria after a particularly bad morning at home. Their foster father had woken up drunk and had haphazardly thrown things at them when Bucky accidentally burnt the eggs he had been cooking for his and Becca’s packed lunch for school. He picked on the peanut butter sandwich he prepared, not having the appetite to eat when he heard jeering voices from a group of boys and sounds of flesh being hit again and again with accompanying grunts of pain. He felt his feet move on instinct when he found them by the bleachers, a scrawny boy at the center of a group huddling over him, they were laughing as he tried to fight them off, not once being able to land a punch. The blood pumped in Bucky’s veins, a constant beating in his ears, as he grabbed the biggest of the bullies by the collar and harshly yanked him off the tiny, blonde boy now sprawled on the floor with his skinny arms covering his face. When one of the other kids tried to punch him, he deftly moved out of the way and delivered a swift blow to his stomach, making sure to spare his face so as not to get in trouble. That was how Rumlow did it, might as well use the same trick right? 
“What? Who wants to go next?” He threatened, loving the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the power he had with defending someone so helpless. The lanky blonde boy stood up beside him, blood dripping from his mouth as he held both his fists up, “I can do this all day,” he said, catching his breath but his stance clearly indicated he could barely stand up straight. Bucky just looked at him weirdly, not knowing whether to find him stupid or brave. The bullies stood against them, unsure. Bucky was the same age as them, only slightly bigger. Him and the blonde boy were still clearly outnumbered but Bucky’s eyes held a lethal strength in them, his body coiled with unleashed brutality, ready to fight. The bullies scrambled out of there as fast as they could, their feet tripping over them. 
“Yeah next time, pick on someone your own size!” he hollered before looking back at the blonde boy who looked younger than them but held himself with such maturity that it didn’t seem possible. He decided right then and there he was going to make him his new friend. Rumlow had always taught him about his belief of the natural order of the world, that strength and might always won the day and that order could only be achieved through pain. If you could inflict it on others, you were stronger, better. Weaker men were useless, had to be beaten up and put in their place. “That’s just the way of the world,” he had said. But Bucky was old and smart enough to see right through his facade. He was a bully, feeding off of people who couldn’t fight back. Bucky was going to be different, he wouldn’t bow down to his will. He just needed to protect his sister, spare her from the taint of Rumlow’s anger and prove that he wouldn't become the man Rumlow has been conditioning him to be. 
“You alright?” Bucky asked the boy standing beside him who was touching the bruise forming on his forehead.
“Yeah, thanks for helping me,” he replied sheepishly, ashamed he couldn’t fight for himself.
“Next time, just don’t provoke them, they aren’t worth it.” 
“But they were wrong. Bullies, I’d always stand up to them,” the blonde brushed his hair back from his forehead, determination steeling his voice. Bucky smiled, maybe he could learn a thing or two from this boy too. 
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Steve, what’s yours?”
“Bucky. Steve, you’re a little punk. You know that?” he said teasingly, laughing. 
Steve grinned back, “Jerk,” 
_______________________________________________________________________
Present
The light filtered into the room as the curtains were drawn back harshly causing Bucky to groan on his bed, flitting a pillow to cover his eyes. 
“Buck, come on. Get up,” Steve’s firm voice spoke through the fog in his mind. 
“Get out, Steve, I’m sleeping.” he replied, turning his back to the hand shaking his shoulder.
“How long are you going to do this? It’s been two weeks. Have you even talked to your family yet?” Steve’s judgmental voice rang out, hard and unforgiving. 
“She doesn’t even wanna see me,” he huffed, anger at himself boiling in his veins. He hasn’t seen his daughter in two weeks. Y/N’s short, cold replies to his messages were just updates on how Lizzie was doing, anything regarding Y/N, he had no idea about. He didn’t even know what sort of excuses she made up for Lizzie, how his “work trip” kept getting extended. When the hell could they keep that charade up? He was lucky enough she was letting him talk to his daughter on the phone for a few minutes every once in a while. He sat up on the bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he reached for the bottle of whiskey at the bedside table. These days he could only fall asleep when he’s had one too many to drink and even then, he’d still wake up with a headache that could only be dulled by alcohol. He barely even made it to work everyday. Sam had been good enough to cover for him, staying on neutral ground with everything that’s happening to his marriage although his eyes said otherwise, disappointment etched in them. All the while Steve had ignored him the entire time since the hospital. No amount of apologies moved him from his stance except today, when he suddenly barged into the hotel room Bucky has been renting like he owned the place. 
“Jesus, Bucky, stop that!” He swiped the bottle Bucky held between his lips, splashing amber liquid on his shirt and bed. 
“Damn it, Steve! Look what you did!  Give that back,” Bucky held his arm out, his reflexes slow as he tried to grab it from his friend. 
“Jesus Christ. You smell terrible. How much have you had to drink last night?” Steve fanned the air around him trying to rid the stench of alcohol and sweat.
“How the hell did you even get in here?” Bucky’s pissed off voice grumbled but one look at Steve’s intense stare with his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched, standing straight as a drill sergeant, arms crossed at his chest with his muscles bulging out of his fitted gray Under Armour shirt; he knew. The punk had intimidated his way in. No doubt leaving a poor breathless, flustered receptionist in his wake. 
“You could get that receptionist fired, you know?” He tried appealing to his best friend’s better nature.
“You wouldn’t tell. Plus, it isn’t as if she didn’t get a hefty tip. Go take a shower, Buck, you stink.” Steve didn’t budge, staring him down with a disgusted look on his face. Bucky just scoffed, 
“And then what? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Y/N kicked me out, man. Just go home, you’re wasting your time.” 
Steve’s hardened face softened as he looked at his friend. His eyes were puffy, his skin pale as he scratched his wildly unkempt beard, his greasy hair sticking out on one side. What the hell had happened to Bucky? How had it gone so bad for his friend in a matter of days? He suddenly moved out of instinct, collecting clothes strewn everywhere and packed them into the suitcase at the corner of the room. 
“Steve, what the hell are you doing?” Bucky exhaled loudly. It was too early for this. Where the hell was his drink? 
“Get your ass moving, Bucky. You’re staying at my place,”
1K notes · View notes
trademarknickersoncharm · 5 years ago
Text
Austin’s spoiler free  ND Rankings from best to worst (with reasons why)
PLS NOTE: There is only one game I actually HATE. Every other game there is something I like about it except my last spot. Keep that in mind.
1) Ghost of Thornton Hall. This game is an absolute masterpiece. It is the best game HeR has made since CUR. It is also the best game I think HeR has put out in recent years. These are characters that you actually FEEL for. Not one of them are unlikeable. The closest you get is Clara, who you wind up feeling for in the end. An absolute work of art (it is also the first game I pre-ordered because from the very beginning I was invested.)
2) Labyrinth Of Lies- Hear me out. I absolutely adore this game. It has Greece, Theatre, and Xenia Doukas. Three things I cannot live without. While I absolutely agree that the whole idea of a rotating set system underground is impossible, this game was a dream come true for theatre kids everywhere. I will never not play this game without listening to Mamma Mia. It’s probably my biggest unpopular opinion of this fandom.
3) Last Train To Blue Moon Canyon- This game breaks my literal heart. Camille and Jake Hurly has always been up there in my eyes with Frances and Dirk from SHA. I have always loved the environment of this game. (This is probably due to the fact that Murder On The Orient Express is one of my favorite books) and this is one game that I always go to when I’m feeling nostalgic. It is also the first time you see the Hardy Boys so that’s a sign.
4) Sea Of Darkness- This is the game that I think has the best graphics HeR has offered. We have a lesbian character which was highly requested as well as a cute dog. The aurora borealis is never not STUNNING to look at and it one of the best games that actually feels like Nancy is “there”. The mystery is also one that I think can be misleading. I always assumed it was Ghost Ship TM but boy was I wrong. Elisabet also has my whole heart.
5) The Final Scene- OH MY GOD THIS IS AN ABSOLUTE SASS FILLED GAME AND I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN HERE FOR IT. I constantly say “I propose you back off!” at every opportune moment. It is the best dialogue Nancy has ever had. Again, it is a Stan for theatre kids everywhere. I have also always thought magic was the coolest thing even though I can't perform it. Solid dialogue and very easy puzzles, which is always a relief.
6) Curse Of Blackmoor Manor- This is not in my top 3 as it is going to be for almost everyone else due to the fact that I think it is a very difficult game. I first played it when I was 12, and it was the only game I could not beat up until that shit show SAW which we will discuss later. Now that I've grown older and wiser, I have really grown to appreciate it more and it is a CLASSIC when looking into this game series. I appreciate the nostalgia value it has and the soundtrack and the characters. Ethel Bossiny FTW. This game also has the best soundtrack of the series.
7) Treasure In The Royal Tower- Another one that will be in everyone else’s top 3 but is not for me, but is still solid. I ADORE this game’s setting and character development- but for me, I never really felt pulled in to the mystery. My time was spent fan grilling over Hotchkiss that the person who broke into the library was on my back burner. HOWEVER, it is still very nostalgic and iconic it is in my top 10.
8) The Phantom Of Venice- Simply put, this game is why I want to go to Italy. I was ALMOST THERE but corona. I absolutely adore the way this game transports you. They included everything they could, even real photos of Venice, which I appreciated as someone who wants to go.
9) Alibi in Ashes- You have to understand how important it is that we finally got a game in River Heights. It was always on the TOP of my list in terms of places I wanted Nancy to go. It did not disappoint. The fact that everyone turned on Nancy so quickly always sends chills down my spine.
10) Legend Of The Crystal Skull- ALRIGHT so another unpopular opinion. This was the FIRST game I every played AND BEAT and so it will always be in my top 10. This is the game that truly got me invested in the series. If it wasn't this, it would not be this high, but it is my number 10 for that reason. Other things I like: Henry, Renee, the setting and music.
11) Warnings At Waverly Academy- WAC’s setting is so amazing. I don’t really know how to explain it, but I have always been intrigued about boarding school mysteries (@ house of Anubis )and this is a solid one. It contains probably one of the best plot twists of the series that blew my mind the first time I played it, and Mel Corbalis is god’s gift to humanity.
12) The Silent Spy- A real tearjerker if there ever was one. This games takes a storyline that has been changed many times (Nancy’s mom) and turns it into something so extremely badass you really wish she wasn't actually dead. Zoe Wolfe is the absolute reason I exist. You also play a cookies mini game which is just about as addicting as crack.
13) Secret Of The Old Clock- Okay, so I feel like this game gets a lot of hate because everyone talks about how weird the time travel is, but this has always been a game I liked. I think personally, that it is the easiest game in the series (if you exclude the dress, which I have never had a problem with) and it is based on the absolute most classic ND story of all. I also highly enjoy this period of time, even though the characters in this game aren't great. Emily Crandall is probably the best one, and even she yells at Nancy.
14) Secret Of Shadow Ranch- Okay. So I’m going to get anon h8 for this. But SHA is... not the best in my opinion. I have talked about this before, but SHA is very tedious in terms of chores and I just do not like that. I wouldn't necessarily mind the chores if they weren't repetitive, but it is the same chores over and over again. With that said, I LOVE the music, the Humber storyline, and the setting, so it is #14
15) Message In A Haunted Mansion- This is probably the only game I have ever pissed my pants over. CUR and GTH didn’t even do that. I think it is bc MHM is one of the first games I played. The hauntings in this game are so AMAZING and when you find out their explanation it totally changes things.
16) The Deadly Device- I love when ND does a Murder Mystery right. This is the time it was done right. The culprit came out of absolutely no where and I loved it. It is ranked this low for me b/c I think some of the puzzles are tedious and hard. Ryan Kilpatrick is an amazing human being and so is Ellie thx.
17) Tomb Of The Lost Queen- Another game which I think gets a lot of undeserved hate. Mummies are badass, especially when the mummy sighting is real and unexplained. Dylan Carter is probably the biggest example of stud you will ever see, and Jamila El-Dine is a bad b****. I am ranking it this high for Jamila alone. 
18) Danger On Deception Island- I absolutely adore this game’s music. But I hate Holt Scotto with all the fire within me. He is why this game is not in my top 10. I love everything about this game except Holt F****** Scotto. I want to put it in my top 10. I do. But Holt Scotto sucks.
19) The Haunted Carousel- This was a game which I vividly remember being bullied in daycare over. I took it to daycare one day and we kept getting our eyeballs poked out by the lathe. Daycare memories suck. Also it is the first game by which we get a literal sexual strut by the culprit at the end, which I have never liked. Pluses of the game? An amusement park. Miles.
20) Ransom Of The Seven Ships- SAY IT OUT LOUD. RAN. IS. NOT. THE. WORST. GAME. The puzzles, although always thrown at your face, are actually sort of fun. I would rank it higher but there is way too few characters in a way that makes the culprit very obvious, but it also isn't at the same time. 
21) The Captive Curse- This is a game by which I thought had so much potential but I think the monster looks very dumb? It’s like? The inbred cousin of Frankenstien’s monster? However, I LOVE THE SONG “girls”from this game and have a huge love for Lukas, so it isn't bottom 10
22) Stay Tuned For Danger- This game is one that would be so much higher up for me, If you didn’t have to look at EVERYTHING to complete it. If you miss ONE LETTER in a magazine, you cannot beat this game. I get stuck on it every time  I play it, but the mystery is amazing and who doesn’t love a good old NYC game.
23) The White Wolf Of Icicle Creek- To begin my bottom 10, ICE. I LOVE ICE as a concept. But, Fox and Geese holds me back from a replay. I absolutely love the idea of a lodge that people are in danger at. The snow atmosphere is amazing and so is Isis. But, Fox and Geese is an abomination.
24) Ghost Dogs Of Moon Lake- I really, really want to like this game because I am a dog lover. However, the insect challenge is such a CHORE to do. I cannot stand to do it. It is so difficult to do in my humble opinion, it requires such a retrace of step that makes it insufferable. Pros? cute doges.
25) The Haunting Of Castle Malloy- YOU ARE LITERALLY THIS LOW BC OF THE END PUZZLE AND YOU KNOW IT. However, not the worst for me because I love Ireland and this game has some of the best music in the series. It is on my top 5 for soundtracks. I love everything about this game except THE END. Fiona is so misunderstood.
26) Secret of The Scarlet Hand- I really like this game, I do, but I am very not interested in the constant phone calls you do in this game. You are on the phone for about 75% of this game and I really didn’t like that about it. LOVE the history behind it though.
27) SCK/SCK2- I really do not like SCK as a concept. School murders are a topic which really turns me off. Not to mention, there is barely a difference between these games but a single character and a puzzle. 
28) Danger By Design- Paris? Yes. Fashion? Heck yeah. But I never have really enjoyed DAN because the mystery can literally be solved by pulling a Phantom of The Opera and dropkicking the mask off. I also HATE the cookie puzzle. The edges never curl upwards for me.
29) Creature Of Kapu Cave- Ugh. Shells and fishing make this game untouchable for me. I LOVE HAWAII CONCEPT and supernatural volcanoes and phenomena. But I cannot stand the big island buck system or the man himself. Sorry, big island homies. Also be proud of me because it took me this long to bring up STUPID FRASS
30) Midnight In Salem- I was so excited for this game. We all were. I really enjoy MID’s mystery and as a concept. But, the new format is not good and neither is the constant talking and only being able to complete the game in one order. I was so excited for nothing (which is my own fault)
31) Shadow At The Waters Edge- GOD. The massive nonogram and sudoko have NO place in this game. I refuse to play it because of these 2 puzzles. However, I do love the scares in it. They are top notch scares. I have beat this game in it’s entirety maybe once?
32) Trail Of The Twister- Internship simulator forever. Chores galore, what a bore. Uncompelling mystery and hateful characters. The only thing I liked was the country music, a sentence you don’t hear often.
33) The Shattered Medallion- I literally played the beta of this game and it was ions better than the actual released product. That’s reason enough.
32 notes · View notes
Text
Writing Commission - Where I Want To Be - Chapter Five
Summary: Yamada Hizashi, better known as the Voice Hero Present Mic, is a busy man. He has classes and students to teach English to, an agency that always seemed to be in the middle of a disaster to help deal with, and a radio station that was one bad show away from being cancelled to run. He doesn’t have time for a bad day triggered by nightmares and fears and anxieties that just never seem to stop.
Luckily for him, his partners are Aizawa Shouta and Yagi Toshinori and neither of those two are very good at leaving Hizashi to suffer alone.
Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia    
Relationship: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic/Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic/Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yagi Toshinori | All Might
Characters: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori | All Might
Rating: Teen Audiences
Word Count: 29,323
Transaction Amount: $200 (USD)
WARNINGS FOR: Past childhood abuse (both emotional and physical) and anxiety attacks verging on panic to PTSD episodes. Please read with caution if needed.
                                                  ⁂
         Check out my writing commission information here!                Pledge to my Patreon to get exclusive content!                            Or buy me a coffee on Ko-Fi!
                                                  ⁂
                                          Chapter Index
           <<1>> <<2>> <<3>> <<4>> <<5>> <<6>> <<7>> <<8>> <<9>>
                                                 ⁂
On the average day Hizashi loved his agency. It was bright, and loud, and full of sound and laughter and life and, more often than not, it reminded him of just why he had become a hero in the first place. It was a place where, no matter what, he knew he was making a difference -- however small it might be. 
Hizashi did not love his agency when he was having a rough day, however. His aching head, already pounding from a headache that was quickly starting to edge into migraine levels, screamed in pain at everything that was going on. He knew, without a doubt, that if he removed his sunglasses for even a second then it would be just enough to kick him into a sensory overload. Even with his hearing aids turned down it was still, well… 
Gaggles and groups of interns were dashing across the main lobby and disappearing into elevators or hallways, harried lawyers who looked one bad moment away from a breakdown were rushing to elevators with files upon files of paperwork, engineers and designers for their in-house support equipment were lugging around large crates and yelling every time someone stepped in their path, and overall it was like Hizashi had walked into hell.
He couldn’t help the half-step he took back towards the door that he was still holding open. The urge to just turn around and head back home where he knew Shouta and Toshinori would be was overwhelming. He knew he would never do it, though. As much as he would love to skip out on an agency day, he had far too much paperwork to get done. Not to mention he had way too many interns and sidekicks to corral to even attempt leaving. 
Besides, the wonderful, but terrifying woman who ran the front desk had already seen him. She was typically cheerful, but considering the chaos of everything, she was looking at Hizashi as if daring him to try and leave. It was a look that, the longer he stood there, was morphing into one of murderous rage and, considering she was the linchpin that kept his agency from collapsing, Hizashi decided to hustle his way inside. He wasn’t sure if he feared murder from her more, or her quitting on them. Probably the latter, all things considered. 
She at least seemed mollified when she saw Hizashi heading towards the elevators, but he noticed a quick glimpse of concern on her face. It was enough to have him resisting the urge to groan. If she could tell he was having an off day from just one look at him from so far away, then he didn’t have high hopes for nobody else noticing. He did work with pro-heroes, after all.
He at least had hope that the day might just look busy but would actually be slow. Those hopes were soon crushed and Hizashi knew exactly what sort of day it would be when two lawyers converged on him before he could even step inside the elevator. “Yamada-san! Here are the files concerning the last three major incidents during your patrols. This includes the altercation at the Mitsuya building.” Ah, right. The mall that had almost been destroyed by a couple of pricks with a grudge against… capitalism? Hizashi hadn’t really been sure. 
“Thank you, Heartfilia-san,” Hizashi sighed, accepting the files and trying not to flinch at how heavy they felt. No one had ever warned him as a kid just how much paperwork was involved with being a pro hero -- especially a public pro hero who had to worry about things like property damage. Pushing his sigh back, Hizashi looked to the other lawyer. “Nozu-san? How’s everything regarding the last raid we did?”
The apologetic look on the man’s face had Hizashi closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He felt his head pound in tune with his urges to just drop everything and scream. Nozu seemed to realize he was close to losing it, because he was quick to add, “It could certainly be worse, Present Mic, sir.” 
“Let me guess, it could always be better?” The thick file Hizashi was handed made him bitterly regret his decision to not just remain as a sidekick for the rest of his days. Even if his life had been hell as a sidekick and he would have long since been dead, he wouldn’t have so much paperwork. “What’s the deadline for getting this in?”
“Well, that’s where the good news comes in,” Nozu perked up, looking delighted to have some good news to share. Hizashi couldn’t blame him. “In a typical case like this we would need to have everything submitted in two days in order for all criminals to be properly and legally charged and contained-”
“Two days?!” Hizashi was having a heart attack. He was going to die. He was just going to drop dead and let his skull split open from his migraine and allow his anxiety to eat him alive. It would be better than two days-
“In a typical case! This isn’t typical! We have more time!” While Nozu explained in a panic, Heartfilia gave a soft snort of laughter, looking as tired as Hizashi felt. The man had no doubt been pulling double and triple shifts.
“Next time?” Heartfilia spoke up, “Lead with that.” Hizashi couldn’t help but agree because, wow, yeah… He hadn’t thought his day could have gotten worse, and yet. “At least it’s not two days considering how much of a shitshow that case was. How much time?”
“One week from today,” Nozu sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Sorry, sir, for the scare. Thankfully one of the criminals that were caught slipped up enough that he’s being suspected as being part of a string of other crimes and robberies. We’ve been given extra time to complete things on our end while the court looks into it.”
Alright. Hizashi could handle dealing with a case like this in a week, at least. Closing his eyes and wincing at the pounding in his head, Hizashi swallowed and forced himself to keep it together as he nodded at the two, “Alright. I’ll get this all filled out and drop it back off with Crow-san. Anything else?”
Nozu shook his head rapidly, still young and new enough to be just the tiniest bit starstruck. Heartfilia, who had been stuck dealing with him for years, shook his head, “Just get some rest before you drive yourself into the ground. Again.” 
“Ha, ha,” Hizashi responded dryly. “You’re hilarious, truly. I can see the career in comedy already.” Hizashi pressed a button to call the elevator, looking over his shoulder as he waited for it to arrive. “Anything else?” 
“Yeah,” Heartfilia smirked, crossing his arms with too smug of an expression. “Ito-san is looking for you.” Fuck. The ding of the elevator was the only thing that stopped him from actually letting slip a few curses.
“I hate you,” Hizashi called as he pressed the floor for media relations, shutting his eyes and swallowing around the heavy, clogged feeling in his throat. The only thing keeping him even relatively sane was the fact he could and was still talking. Then again, if his migraine got much worse his quirk would start slipping, and if that happened then he could hurt people, and if his quirk was out of control then he was dangerous-
“Oh, hello, Yamada-san.” Startling at his name and trying not to show it, and realizing the elevator had stopped and opened its doors for him, Hizashi looked down at one of Ito’s interns. “Ito-san is waiting for you in her office.” 
Mumbling a quick thanks, Hizashi headed towards Ito’s office, wincing at some of the sympathetic looks he was being given. That never meant good things and today, of all days, Hizashi wasn’t sure if he could handle whatever news Ito had for him. As his media and public relations manager, she was in charge of making sure he had a good image when it came to the general public. It didn’t always go well.
Clutching the files he had been forced to take, Hizashi half-wondered if he could use them as an impromptu shield or weapon as he cleared his throat, knocked, and cracked open the door, “Good afternoon, Ito-san, Japan’s finest and best-”
“Save it.” The barked order had Hizashi snapping his mouth shut at once, and, yeah. It was definitely that sort of day. “Sit your ass down and explain to me why I have three media outlets trying to get comments on the fact that you got into a fist fight at a bar of all places.” Ah… Ah, right. Hizashi had almost forgotten about that. 
Hovering by the door and debating escape for a moment, Hizashi finally slipped in and took a seat as far away from Ito as he could get. It didn’t feel like it helped him very much, Ito taking a seat behind her own desk and simply staring at him. It was her favorite intimidating tactic and, unfortunately for Hizashi, it often worked.
Finally, after eons had passed, Ito braced her elbows on the desk and laced her fingers together, pushing out a long sigh that made guilt claw at his chest. Hizashi wasn’t exactly sure what he was guilty for, but the guilt was there all the same.
“Alright, Yamada.” Ito’s eyes, which had fluttered shut for a moment, snapped open and gave him a look that was as cold as ice. “Explain to me why I shouldn’t let you deal with this mess on your own.”
Blanching, Hizashi tried not to fully flinch away, instead roughly clearing his throat, and, alright. He was good with words. He was a language teacher, after all. “Well… If you think about it, I was off-duty at the time-”
“You were still wearing your full uniform and all of your support equipment,” Ito interrupted, eyes radiating her hatred and ire perfectly. “I have over a dozen unique photos from social media accounts of you, Present Mic, in a fist fight with a member of the public at a bar. It’s already spread rapidly across the top three social media sites and is gaining traction on another two sites as we speak.”
Ito paused, taking in a breath. The pause, Hizashi figured, was more terrifying than her anger. “Now, I want an explanation -- and not your media explanation for which I will give you something that you will repeat word-for-word. No. I want your honest explanation as to what stupidity went through your head when you thought you could just-”
“He was drugging a girl’s drink.” Hizashi braced for something to be thrown at him, waiting nervously before Ito, silent, gave a nod for him to continue. “I had just finished up my patrol and I stopped by that bar to talk to the owner about some of my contacts and some people I had on watch. I noticed that the bastard I punched had been flirting with someone who was pretty unreceptive and, when she wasn’t looking, he slipped a powder into her drink that dissolved immediately.
“The girl was about to drink from her cup as an excuse to not talk to him, so I snatched it from her and then confronted the asshole about the little addition to the cup. It, uh… It didn’t remain much of a civil conversation for long.” Hizashi, still seeing the displeasure, hopefully added, “I didn’t throw the first punch?”
There was a long, long moment of silence, Ito narrowing her eyes at him before giving a single nod that had Hizashi almost collapsing in relief. “I’ll deal with it, in that case. Can the owner or bartender confirm your story and the events?”
“Of course! I should have both their numbers. They offered ‘em up when they realized what went down and are willing to act as witnesses.” Hizashi knew he was in the clear when Ito looked pleased, some of the manic tension bleeding out of her. She really deserved a vacation soon. “So… public image?”
Ito looked down at her scattering of papers and forms, shoving a few to the floor before pulling some out of her drawer. It was an effort to not laugh. “Not the best, but not the worst, either. With that bar fight, now that I know the truth, I can spin it to get you some positive attention for a week or two, at least.”
Hizashi watched as Ito scattered around a few more papers before pulling another out of a pile, “The Mitsuya Mall, as I don’t need to tell you, was an utter disaster.” Yeah, it had… definitely not ended well when it came to property damage. “Thankfully no one was hurt, so that makes the outcome more positive on the overall. Your show’s doing well, so that’s helping-”
“And what are the more official sources saying?” Because Ito could go on all day if he let her and Hizashi knew that public opinion could mean more than just the average citizen’s opinion. “Bad or bad?”
Ito’s lips twisted up into a wry smile as she chuckled, “Just bad, for now. I think the new drivel is claiming you’re a laidback playboy who’s focused more on his radio show and his ratings rather than the safety of Japan.” 
“Playboy? Playboy? Really?” Hizashi made a face, shaking his head. He had been with Shouta since they were teenagers, after all, and the only other person he had ever felt the urge to really be with was Toshinori. “Jeez, alright. At least it’s just about the radio show. That always passes.” 
“It does if you keep getting good ratings,” Ito snorted, fixing a stack of papers, and then looking at her desk. “That seems to be the worst of it for now. Did Heartfilia-san get you those files yet?”
“Saw him just before you,” Hizashi said, holding up his files. He couldn’t blame Ito for not appearing very sympathetic considering her own workload. “How’s opinion looking like on the case?”
“Varied.” Well. It could be worse. “The public still seems to be under the impression we’re competent, at the very least, and I’m happy to keep it that way.” Ito looked at her desk one last time before nodding and waving her hand at him, “Alright, you can go. I’ll fix the latest mess you dropped in my lap and then I don’t want any disasters from you for at least two weeks. Got it?”
“Yes ma’am,” Hizashi nodded, standing up and walking towards the door. He paused for a moment, hand hovering over the doorknob. “Actually… what’s the current opinion on my image in regards to my… my quirk.” 
Hizashi didn’t turn around to see whatever look Ito was giving him, instead just waiting in the growing silence as he felt phantom pressure around his throat, pressing in tightly while phantom straps dug into his jaw and silenced him- 
“You’re a good man and hero with a powerful quirk that has only ever been used to protect the public.” Ito’s voice was soft, yet firm. She had known him long enough to no doubt know what was on his mind. “The worst I have for you right now is that you’re too loud, but, honestly, that’s more about your wardrobe than your voice.” 
The unexpected dig had Hizashi giving a snort of laughter, quiet as he left the office and pushed out a soft sigh, eyes closing. His head was still pounding, and he still felt those phantom touches brushing against him, but it was enough to know that no one feared him or his quirk. Ito had never sugarcoated things for him, after all. It wasn’t much to know that he was at least decent in regards to the public, but… it helped a little.
“Um, Present Mic-san, sir?” Prying his eyes open, Hizashi blinked down a trio of new third-year interns. Two of them looked ready to burst into tears and the third looked as if she was ready to get into a fight for her life. “We’re, uh- Well, we’re new here, of course we’re new here, not that I expect you to know that, but, um-”
“Ignore her, she’s freaking out,” the one who didn’t look ready to cry said, stepping forward. “Our supervisor told us to go down to help support for the day but didn’t bother to tell us what floor or elevator to take. Think you could point us in the right direction?”
Ah, third years… They were either one moment from breaking down completely or they no longer cared if they lived or died. Hizashi not only remembered that time well, but even now he could relate. 
“Better than that, I can take you down there myself!” He made a mental note to later put in a work order request to submit for his next speaker, now that he was reminded. The last thing he needed was for them to fiddle with the specs again. “Come along, herolets!” 
“We’re, um- We’re not, uh, hero students, sir. We’re- We’re support students,” one girl nervously corrected, looking panicked as one of her friends pulled her along towards the elevator after Hizashi. 
“Really? If you ask me, those in support are just as much heroes as the rest of us.” Hizashi pushed the button for the right floor, looking at the third years seriously, sunglasses slipping down for a moment. “Listen. There will be plenty of people in your line of work who will doubt what it is you can do. They’ll think that just because you’re not out there on the front lines you’re doing less.”
“Isn’t that what we are doing?” The calm one, who looked put together and like she knew how the world worked far too well, stepped forward. “It’s nice of you to give us a pep talk, sir, but we aren’t heroes. We don’t have powerful, flashy quirks. We just know how to put things together without them falling apart.” 
Hizashi stared for a moment, tilting his head before giving a huff of a laugh. Shouta, he was surer, would have loved this kid, “What’s your name, listener?” 
“Ishii Chisuzu, sir.” Yeah. Hizashi would definitely have to remember that name for the future. He had a good feeling about it.
“Well, Ishii Chisuzu, I’m about to give you the best piece of advice you’ll ever get. Ready for it?” Waiting for the girl to nod, Hizashi gave her a sharp grin. “What you can do is not less. Got it?”
The elevator doors opened with a soft ding, the other two girls looking at him with wide eyes while Ishii gave the smallest hint of a smile, “Got it.” 
“Good! Now, off you scurry. If anyone gets after you for being late or something just send ‘em to me,” Hizashi winked, watching as the girls scattered for another direction. Hizashi stared after them for a moment, quietly hitting the button for the floor his office was on, leaning back against the elevator and pushing out a slow breath as he swallowed around his dry throat. 
As much as he loved his agency, it was such a public place. That was fine, typically, considering that he loved being a part of all the action and crazy problems that were always happening. It was just that on some days, when the past pressed against him far too closely, Hizashi really wished he didn’t work in a place that constantly reminded him of his quirk and what it was he could do.
He was fine in the school where he was focused on teaching English and had so many fond memories and had Shouta nearby in case his quirk was to ever slip from his control. When he was away from all of that, however, from the feeling of safety and protection, that was when he could feel the straps tightening around his jaw, and the hands against his throat, and the whispered words of how he would never be a hero with such an awful villain’s quirk and why couldn’t he just be silent-
Rushing out of the elevator as soon as it hit his floor, Hizashi slipped into his office, tossed his files of paperwork onto his desk, and collapsed onto the nap lounge he had dragged in forever ago. He kept the lights off, letting the dark room soothe his aching eyes and pounding head as he tried to steady his breathing. 
He should have just gone home early and stayed with Shouta and Toshinori, but he had work to do. Some stupid childhood trauma that had happened decades ago was not going to stop him from being the hero he had become. It didn’t matter that his skull felt like it was cracking open, or that his throat could barely make any noise without trying to close, or that he couldn’t stop feeling that damn muzzle- 
It didn’t matter. The media could make fun of him all they wanted to, but Present Mic still had work to do. His public image was meant to be friendly and a bit silly, ready to help but also just as ready to make jokes and have some fun. It wasn’t an accident it was that way. He had known from the beginning how the world would see him, but that was good. It left him the room and freedom he needed to do what had to get done. 
That included doing the work he needed to, even on his bad days; no matter how tempted he was to take a page out of Shouta’s book and just fall asleep where he was lying down. It wouldn’t be for long. A half hour, maybe an hour, possibly until the world ended -- just long enough for him to stop feeling so tired and strung out. 
The one thing that kept him from following through was his buzzing phone, Hizashi swearing as he dug it out and pulled it up in front of his face before scrambling to lower the brightness in the dark room. It took a few moments before he noticed the sender was Nemuri, Hizashi already regretting his entire life as he opened the attached images. 
He had been prepared for anything and everything, but not for the half a dozen images of young Present Mic fans who couldn’t be older than six or seven. It was the cute pictures that Nemuri had promised to show him at lunch before getting distracted, Nemuri sending a simple text that read, ‘One of them told me to tell you thank you for having a voice quirk and still becoming a hero.’ 
It was a simple message, and cute, silly pictures, but Hizashi felt like he could burst into tears as he looked through them slowly one-by-one. Once he closed out of the last one, he saw a few missed texts, all of them from friends or other co-workers who were checking in on him. Tensei, who had no doubt been told of his rough day by Tenya, had sent near fifteen messages in the last ten minutes alone, along with a selfie of him doing a wheelie with his wheelchair.
Overall his messages were filled with support or just a kind word or two, Hizashi finally, slowly, after an eternity, pushing himself up and heading towards his desk. 
He may not have been some incredible hero like Toshinori or even a deadly, fearless hero like Shouta, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t a hero. Present Mic had work to do it and Hizashi would see it through until the end. 
The idea of crawling into a corner and sleeping until the end of the world was still tempting, though.
2 notes · View notes
ganymedesclock · 5 years ago
Note
Very great analysis on how bleak the cycle can be. What’s your take on how the cycle works regarding other villains, like Vaati, or Majora?
So I know you asked about the cycle in-universe, led here I would guess from this post, but there’s a noteworthy followup I made in that vein here, and that’s important context to how I feel about a lot of the Zelda rogues’ gallery.
Because the thing is, if you go looking for qualities to hate, you’ll always find them.
Ghirahim invades Link’s space in a way that feels- to me- very gay panic. He talks in luscious detail about wanting to do violence onto Link’s person. He threatens to run through his subordinates.
Zant creeps on Midna at a major part. And, Zant’s very easy for me to relate to and want to defend, because the big other thing used to make Zant seem “scary and off-putting” is his literal autistic meltdowns. They may not be called that by name, but Zant thrashing, bending weirdly, the noises he makes and slamming his head on the floor when frustrated and overwhelmed, as an autistic person, I recognize intimately. I can’t even say it’s that much of a caricature of stimming and meltdowns.
Vaati kidnaps “beautiful maidens”. We’re given plenty of reasons to hate them.
My beef is, a lot of these issues feel petty- not in their in-universe damage done, but petty in a writing sense. 
Hearing that Ghirahim controls the bokoblins through threat of force is basically meaningless. We can’t really be all up in arms that Ghirahim is threatening to stab bokoblins because in that cutscene alone we tear them apart en masse ourselves. We can have the excuse that they’re our Enemies, but they’re Ghirahim’s subordinates, but really, how much of an excuse is that? Yes, there’s a difference between stabbing enemies and stabbing allies, but The Legend of Zelda is not a work that has any kind of moral high ground to point fingers about dehumanizing people. We’re not even dignified a response from the Bokoblins. You could omit Ghirahim’s threat entirely and nothing about that scene’s weight or context would change.
Zant getting uncomfortably up in Midna’s space is just supposed to be a cruelty that make us feel more justified when Zant dies in a comparatively graphic and painful-looking manner. They are not used as meaningful characterizing moments. It doesn’t illustrate that Zant wields cultural power over Midna, because in their dynamic, both make clear that Midna was the favored one- she was chosen to rule- while criticizing Zelda, she alludes to having a life of luxury herself (since she’s projecting her own issues onto Zelda in that scene) while Zant at least perceives himself as having lived a tortured life and Midna doesn’t contradict him or call him a liar, merely insists that he was power hungry and that’s why “everyone” felt justified turning away from him.
It doesn’t indicate Zant really wants Midna because it seems to just exist as an opportunity to set up Zant attacking her for siding with the light world. It doesn’t even really indicate Midna’s character growth because she doesn’t seem to seriously consider Zant’s words and she never suggests in the past she might’ve gone along with him.
The thing about The Cycle and it’s cruelty is that it’s something that exists halfway in and halfway out of the fourth wall. Hyrule can’t stay at peace. It can’t be stable and happy. It has to be imperiled because they want to keep making games.
The villains in the Zelda series are created to fill a role. They’re boss fights. In that sense, they’re trophy bucks to be hunted down for our entertainment. You could arguably say the same thing about any video game boss, but, I would argue, a well-written game gives you reasons to find opposing this character meaningful.
The Zelda series does not do this.
The Zelda series mostly gives you some cheap heat excuses and a lot of vague words about how someone is Evil or Diabolical. Next time you fire up a Zelda game, just, stop and pay attention to the cutscenes and look at just how much of a given character’s crimes are: 1. vague, 2. only ever stated by other characters who already hate that character, 3. make no sense as a strategic move unless you intuit or assume a lot of information the game never tells you.
It’s really easy to assume in the average game that Ganondorf- or Vaati, or Skull Kid, or Zant, or Ghirahim- is running wild killing people and burning the countryside. But if you actually look at it, there doesn’t seem to be a clear thesis to who’s hurt and who isn’t.
Why do the Zora get frozen? Why is Valoo’s tail attacked? Why does Zant attack Hyrule’s light spirits but doesn’t seem to spread the twilight to Snowpeak or the Gerudo Desert when they’re seemingly unprotected?
So the end result is you get split one of two ways. You either trust the Experience of the game- that tells you the entire countryside is suffering because of Vaati- and thus, you come up with explanations and cruel attitudes Vaati has that clearly explain all of his behavior- or you don’t, and then you sit there going “man Ezlo I know you’re salty over being turned into a hat and all, but isn’t it a little fucked up that you’re this willing to talk about your underage orphan apprentice like maybe it was an inevitability he’d go mad with power and there’s nothing to do but forge a sword and kill him?”
The game wants you to assume there’s no way to talk down or negotiate with any of these people. It tells you that there will be Dire Consequences if this person’s actions are not stopped.
But Vaati’s a child who wants power and doesn’t even seem to have a clear thesis of what he’s doing with it besides that he just vaguely wants to be ‘in charge’. 
But Ghirahim seems to have never thought of himself as anything but an instrument and his parting comments to Link suggest that he is only, just, starting to actually feel any real standout emotion towards him beyond annoyance, and that emotion is not rage or revulsion but curiosity. He only really acts out of loyalty to an entity that on-screen, hurts him and literally dehumanizes him- turns him into an immobile object. Something we’re told is a tragedy when it happens to Fi.
But Zant talks at great length about how miserable he was, and Midna insinuates “everyone” hated him and thought he was shifty and untrustworthy, and in his own memories, he was sobbing alone and immediately latched onto and literally worshiped Ganondorf, for... telling him he was important and offering to give him power.
Much is made of Skull Kid’s loneliness and ultimately they’re just a kid, go easy on them, they were tempted by Majora- but we have no idea what Majora itself is, besides that they’re a mask, and in the entirety of Majora’s Mask, many discussions are made about how masks are the product of spirits filled with regret, and one must work with them to bring them peace- and Majora itself speaks in a childish manner.
Chancellor Cole, you can argue, even looks more like a “real evil” in that he’s a scheming bureaucrat who uses his position as a respected adult to talk over and endanger Zelda and Link, and even he’s thrown away by Malladus when the latter needs a free body.
The most in-universe explanation, going by just what Nintendo’s official lore tells us, is that Demise’s hatred seeks a suitable vessel, and Ganondorf is just its ‘favorite’, and it’ll happily latch onto anybody else in a position to screw over the heroes. But that raises a lot of questions and leaves a lot of things unaddressed.
So it comes down to a question of, what do we decide here that we trust? How many of these guys would stay enemies if we had any capacity to talk to them and understand their problems? So many of these guys feel like they’re trapped or hurting or miserable or just had a completely unspecified “hunger for power” because that sounds threatening, but the people who desperately want to feel strong are usually people who, for some reason or another, feel denied, repressed, or looked down on.
Basically, the characterization is vague, and mostly, we’re assured they’re evil by other people in the game. To me, this comes across untrustworthy, especially when, in effect, a lot of these characters talk or act like they were (or are shown to be) wronged somehow, and when the game seems to act as if your only options are “let them do whatever they want” and “kill them where they stand” with a clear insinuation that the murder is the right and proper choice.
Which is kinda the whole problem. The average Zelda game spends however much time it dedicates to the main villain, trying to tell you to kill them. This is at odds with Link as someone who engages with and helps a lot of people. And often “however much time it dedicates to the main villain” is not that much time at all! You’re often just, like. having a fun little happy adventure with a scattered handful of interjections of “so everything is the fault of this one guy, and, uh, you should stab them.”
88 notes · View notes
wickedapollo · 5 years ago
Text
Addison Thompson and the Lightning Theif
Greek Gods and Vampires, Oh My! 1/?
Honestly, If I had the choice between a room with Nancy Bobofit, and this. I would chose that Freckly tea-bag anyday. It's not that Fied trips were bad, no not at all, I just would have much rather have only the one shaperone than two.
But my vote didn't matter, at least not to anyone else. Mosy Yancy Fieldtrips, ask any other student, were torture. I mean, if they wanted us to participate in any actual activities, they should take us somewhere fun. Not a Metropolitan Musuem for Art. Who finds dead things fascinating like that anyways?
The bus jostled over a curb and I was thrown into the back of the seat in front of me. My face plastered to the unclean leather, making my face hot, almost to the burning point. My body was sliding, towards the incredibly disgustingly unclean floor. I panicked, grabbing the back of my seat and trying to heave myself back into the seat.
That failed. I wound up on the floor anyway and now had to get back into my seat discretely without being yelled at. A pretty feesable task if Mrs. Dodds didn't have a sonar radar for every little thing I do. I did my best, pretending I had been laying down and got uncomfortable. She didn't yell though, which I was glad for.
In the seat next to me, which sat my two very Best Friends, sat Percy Jackson and Grover Underwood. Percy was fairly small for our age, but I could bet he'd be tall when we were older, he had a wild head of dark hair, which was always disheveled no matter how you looked at it, and Sea Green eyes that were filled with mischief. Grover didn't seem to get so lucky, his hair was an almost carmel-y color and a curly mess, his eyes were a soulful brown that reminded me of a puppy, his skin was dotted with freckles. Poor boy had an odd Muscular Disease in his legs.
I looked over just in time to watch a red and brownish colored sandwich chunk flop onto the top of grover's head. He tried to shake it out, but it simply made it worse. I frowned, glaring back behind him to see who'd thrown it.
Nancy Bobofit was winding up to throw another junk of Ketchup-Peanut butter sandwich at him. I clenched my teeth, if Mrs. Dodds and Mr. Brunner wouldn't have yelled at me, I gladly would have thrown one of Grover's crutches at her. I think Percy had the same idea, but it didn't really occur to me until she'd lobbed the piece at Grover and he dodged it while trying to calm Percy down.
"That's it." The boy had grumbled, starting to stand before Grover pushed him back into the seat. His head thudded against the seat and he gave Grover a look.
"You're on probation." Grkver hastily reminded him. I shifted in my seat, the idea of Percy actually being expelled mind boggled me. Yes he was troubled, that's what Yancy Academy was for, troubled kids. But Percy had this weird little way of making Grover and I calm that made me wonder why he wasn't friends with everyone. "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens."
"Unless she did something unsavory." I grunted, moving my legs into the isle to face the two. Both boys looked at me like I'd grown two heads.
"I don't sven know what that means." Percy grumbled, turning to look out the window at the dreary, boring New York Landscape. I frowned at him, then I had to remind myself we were in different English Classes.
"It means shady, Percy." Grover grumbled. I perked up as Percy whipped back around to face me. He looked very intriguded by my idea, which honestly wasn't a very good one.
"Miss Thompson, Feet out of the Isle please!" Mr. Brunner called from his seat in the back. I turned immediately and seated myself against the the window. No one sat by me, honestly ptobably because I had no female friends.
...
The high pitched whir of Mr. Brunner's wheelchair as our group walked through the museum was beginning to get on my nerves faster than I wanted it too. The museum was probably a great sight to see if there weren't like thirty of us, but all in all, all of this stuff looked great. I'm not entirely sure why ancient things appeal to me, I mean, sure. It's history and every moment we breath is history in the making, but the idea that something has lasted for so long? Enchanting.
We had gathered around an about thirteen feet tall statue, a stele. I was half listening, mainly because Nancy and her gang were too busy laughing at something. But the chips and scars in the collumn made me sad, a young girl about our age? Young people's funerals made me sad, the idea that they died so young without being able to finish their lives? Utterly a fearful and painful reality some people had to face.
I wasn't paying attention to anything, not really. I was mainly contemplating that poor girl's death, why would someone want to kill a young kid? It made no sense to me at all. I doubt I could hurt a fly without breaking into tears.
There was giggling off to my left and Percy turned to glare at them, trying to focus on Mr. Brunner's speeking. I shifted and stared straight ahead as the giggling just reached an octive higher.
"Will you shut up?" Percy hissed, probably much louder than he intended, because everyone was snickering as Mr. Brunner stopped and stared at us. I felt like one of those frogs in science class, carefully being disected and looked over.
"Mr. Jackson," the teacher sighed and looked over the rest of us. I shifted i place picking at my cuticles and trying to look anywhere but at him. "Did you have a comment?"
Percy's face was redder than a tomato. I guess I expected that though, Percy had a knack for doing things like this. "No, sir."
Mr. Brunner wasn't frowning at us anymore, which I was glad for, but when I turned to look away Mrs. Dodds was there, practically breathing down our necks. I did well in School, I was never late, the lowest Grade I'd ever gotten was a D+, and even then it was because I wasn't there for the lesson. I was started when Mr. Brunner held up a pen and pointed to a picture on the stele.
"Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?" I recognized it easy, I mean. Sure, I enjoyed school, to a degree, but Mr. Brunner's class would always be my favorite. I had an A+ in there, and I was not about to loose it because Percy couldn't remember the name of a Titan and his children.
"That's Kronos eating his kids, right?" Percy sounded unsure, and I wanted to thwop him upside the head with something. I understood that I had a very, very wonderful memory. Which is probably why Grover and Percy would practically beg me to study with them before exams. But Percy was probably the most thick skulled kid I had ever met.
"Yes," Mr. Brunner nodded, but his voice sounded strained. Almost like if you were annoyed and trying very hard not to show it. "And he did this because...?"
"Well..." Percy shifted his weight nervously, and he focusing above Mr. Brunner's head. I fought the urge to let my hand shoot up, because Percy had been asked a direct question, it would have been rude. "Kronos was the King god and-"
"Titan." I whisper-hissed quietly, and Mrs. Dodds' eyes narrowed at me. I swear, if she turned out to be half snake I might have cried. I didn't understand what I'd done to make her dislike me so much, but I wish I could take it back.
"God?" Mr. Brunner raised an eyebrow at Percy questioningly.
"Titan," he corrected himself, glanced at me almost in thanks, "And... Uh, he didn't trust his kids, who were gods. So, um, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters-"
"Eeeew!" One of the girl's behind us made a gagging sound and I wanted to hurl the wad of cash in my pocket for the gift shop at them, but that would be wasteful.
" -and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," he continued sounding strained. He looked a little panicked, but I mean I would be too. "And the gods won."
A lot of the kids around us were laughing like giddy school-girls. I wanted to cower behind Percy right then, because I could feel Mrs. Dodds' eyes on me, almost like she was trying to pry something out of my soul.
"Like we're ever going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on aourjob applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.' " Nancy Bobofit mumbled to a friend, rolling her eyes. I agreed whole heartedly, when was this stuff going to be important? Like, yeah maybe, if our parents decided they didn't like us and tried to eat us, we could just feed them rocks? Highly unlikely.
"And why, Mr. Jackson," Mr. Brunner looked pointedly behind us at Nancy's group and flinched when his eyes trailed over us, "To paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"
"Busted," Grover mumbled, the corner of his lips twitching. I smiled, aiming my face at the floor so Mrs. Dodds wouldn't see me.
"Shut up," Nancy hissed, looking like shd wanted to claw him to pieces. Her face was bright red, maybe even darker than her hair. I was glad Nancy at least got in trouble in Mr. Burnner's class, Mrs. Dodds seemed to think she was an Angel.
Percy looked like he was contemplating, and our little run in just now probably didn't help. He shrugged one shoulder, and then the other. Then both at once went up and he sighed defeatedly. "I don't know, sir."
"I see, Miss Thompson," I flinched and looked up apologetically. I didn't think I'd done anything wrong, "Do you have an answer?"
"I-I uh..." I swallowed, what was I supposed to say? 'Yeah, if our parents eat us'? "I-It's not like we are going to use it, sir, not unless our parents decide to eat us."
"Very well, half credit to both of you," he sounded disappointed. Like someone had just cancelled his favorite show, and he'd just heard about it. "Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods had been living and growing up comepletely undigested in the titans stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scuthe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds would you lead us back outside?"
"That sounds like a story for family reunions." I whispered to Grover as we began to walk outside. He smiled slightly, like he did find it funny but he wasn't going to say so.
"Mr. Jackson, Miss Thompson." I flinched, and turned to look back at Mr. Brunner sheepishly. I felt like sinking into the floor and hiding, I didn't feel like being yelled at, or weeded out from the group.
"Sir?" Percy asked, I didn't mean to but I stepped closer to him, half hiding behind him and half peeking around like a terrified animal. Grover continued, looking back almost sadly.
"You must learn the answer to my question," he told us, looking both of us over carefully. I shifted and Percy looked a little confused.
"About the Titans?" I asked curiously, practically leaning over Percy's shoulder.
"About real life. And how your studies apply to it." I frowned. Yes it was interesting, but who would use this stuff unless you were an Archeologist. Percy let out a small 'oh' in reply.
"What you learn from me," he said, and took us both by the arm, "Is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from both of you."
I will never understand Mr. Brunner. I get teacher, during the summer I live with two, but Mr. Brunner's class was fun and eventful. He used a sword sometimes, those were the best days. It was always great, he and my father would have gotten along well. My father had owned a patch of land on the Missouri-Arkansas border that had once been a Peach Orchard. It'd been in our family for generations. He'd found a bout of oil under the surface, struck it rich, and finished his history degree in colledge and came up here to New York. I hadn't done well in the public schools here, so he sent me to Yancy. He claimed it'd be easier, but I was so homesick sometimes I thought I could just float back to the little farm house we'd had.
"Of course, sir." I managed, nodding as Percy mumbled out his speel. Mr. Brunner nodded and took a look at the stele. The object put a melancholic feeling in my chest, like my Grandma had just died again. He dismisses us and I felt like running out of there.
...
I never liked thunderstorms. Usually they meant that it flooded the cornfields and meant there was no surplus for that month. We'd managed to get back with Grover, and I felt like pelting Nancy Bobofit eith my apple, she shouldn't steal from people. What if they needed those things? At the beginning of the year she'd given me this little silver bracelet, said I could keep it. Turns out she'd stolen it from our P.E teacher and I got blamed. Of course my father and mother had rushed down immediatley and were not happy. No one would listen to me that I hadn't stolen it. Only Percy and Grover listened, I guess that's how we made friends.
I had found myself sitting beside Grover, more like laying really. The mist from the fountain had dotted my clothes and skin, but I really didn't mind.
I was too busy staring at the sky to really notice Nancy walking towards us. Though I don't know how you can miss her, bright red hair and all. She dumped her half-eaten crustable in his lap.
"Oops." She grinned wickedly, if I had the opportunity to wipe that grin off her face and rub dirt in her mouth? I would have. Maybe even shove her face in a cow pie, that would have been good.
I'm not entirely sure what happened next, because there's not really a logical explanation. It looked like the water formed to snakes and grabbed her by the arms and just tugged her in. I let my mouth drop. How on earth does something like that happen?
"Percy pushed me!" Nancy screamed, suddenly a blubbering mess. Mrs. Dodds practically just appeared next to us, I was far too busy staring at where the water was to care about what was actually happening. I must be going crazy right?
Mrs. Dodds made sure Little Nancy was okay, promising to buy her new clothes from the giftshop. My heartbeat was in my ears, Percy hadn't pushed her. But then she turned on Percy.
"Now, Honey-"
"I know," he grumbled glaring at the ground. I frowned, he hadn't even touched her. "A month erasing workbooks."
"Come with me." She growled, waiting for him to stand up so she could practically eat him alive.
"N- Wait! It was me! I pushed her, Mrs. Dodds." I shakily stood, fidgiting with my fingers. Grover looked possibly ready to start with his excuses. Percy's jaw had fallen open.
"Miss Thompson, I don't believe-"
"I did Mrs. Dodds! I pushed her. Let me make up for it please." I pleaded, wringing my hands togwther nevously. Who was I kidding? Mrs. Dodds would eat me alive and then what would I do? Serve detention? Make my dad shake his head at me?
"Miss Thompson, I do not condone lying."
"I pushed her, Mrs. Dodds." I tried again, she narrowed her eyes at me and I tried my hardest not to change my expression.
"You-will-stay-here." I felt figity, I knew somehow she wouldn't listen. Just a little voice in the back of my mind. I dropped back into my seat beside Grover.
Percy gave us a sympathetic look, more of a 'come save me' look honestly. I felt horrible. How was I supposed to do anything if I couldn't even cover for Percy? Even Percy could come up with a better story than that.
I watched as the two of them disappeared into the Museum. Grover put his hand on my shoulder, trying to be comforting. It kind of was, but when I looked up at him, he wasn't looking at me. His nostrils were flared up angrily, like he smelled something disgusting.
"Not again." He whispered and was out of his seat in seconds, practically running towards Mr. Brunner. I was so caught up in Grover looking frantic that I didn't notice Nancy.
She slammed her hand against the surface of the water, and droplets flew at me. They were cold, freezing in fact. I flinched and looked over at her.
She was absolutely soaked. Her clothes were tightly stuck and she was shivering. I felt kind of bad for her, shivering like that. I was twmpted to gove her my jacket, but it was the only one she hadn't stolen. I also knew if I did I wouldn't get it back.
I looked back and noticed Grover was walking back over. Or at least, to the beat of his ability. He sat between us, and Nancy got up to move. I shivered slightly, hunching over.
A wave of warmth flooded over our little group. Things started shimmering, and I was getting a headache. I shook my head, trying to clear it. There was a split second where everything spun and I felt like my memories were being rewritten. I stuck my hand into the fountain and splashed my face.
"I hope Mrs. Kerr doesn't mess him up too bad." Grover sighed, looking towards the door of the Museum. Wait... What?
"Grover... Who's Mrs. Kerr?" I asked, turning to face him. His mouth opened but he hesitated, looking at me funny. Like he'd come to a realization, like he found out we had a paper due tomorrow, and one that took awhile.
"Addy, Mrs. Kerr, our Pre-Algebra teacher?" He looked slightly startled. Like I'd sprouted a second head. I raised an eyebrow at him, like he was crazy. Which he was, we didn't have a teacher named Mrs. Kerr.
"Grover, our Pre-Algebra teacher was Mrs. Dodds." I wrapped a strand of my dark hair around my finger, frowning at the crimping of the curls.
"No..? We never had a teacher named Mrs. Dodds." He tried to convince me. He really was trying. But Grover was a terrible liar, he hesjtated before he said anything about it and he was looking at me strangely.
We were too busy arguing to notice Percy coming out of the Museum. It was beginning to rain, so most of us gathered around Mr. Brunner's umbrella.
"Addy, there's never even been a Mrs. Dodds. I don't even think there's one in New York."
I am so doneeeee my writing just keeps getting worseeeeeee.
4 notes · View notes
recentanimenews · 5 years ago
Text
Bookshelf Briefs 8/6/19
Dr. STONE, Vol. 6 | By Riichiro Inagaki and Boichi | Viz Media – So it turns out that the current non-turned-to-stone population are all descended from Senku’s dad and the rest of the crew of the space shuttle, which is honestly more about Byakuya’s faith in his son to eventually save the day even if it takes hundreds of years. Back in the present, Tsukasa and the followers that he’s amassed are planning to invade the village and destroy what Senku has accomplished, but little do they know that Senku has the power of RIDICULOUS SHONEN SCIENCE on his side. The best thing about this volume is that we’re starting to see the non-Senku cast actually come up with inventions—the water wheel revelation was great, and Senku knows it. Dumb fun, masquerading as smart fun. – Sean Gaffney
Farewell, My Dear Cramer, Vol. 1 | By Naoshi Arakawa | Kodansha Comics (digital only) – Midori Soshizaki and Sumire Suo played girls’ soccer for different teams in middle school, but Soshizaki is so taken with Suo’s play that she volunteers to go to whichever high school Suo chooses. Suo, accustomed to being the only one really trying on her team, feels kinship with another girl on a lousy team, and so she and Soshizaki both end up at Warabi Seinan, whereupon a couple of other talented players show up along with a new coach, since the current one sees no future in girls’ soccer and isn’t interested in doing his job. This was a pleasant start to a series, but the soccer action isn’t as easy to follow as in other titles I’ve read, and it quickly veers away from the two leads to focus on another teammate. I’ll definitely keep reading, though! – Michelle Smith
Love in Focus, Vol. 3 | By Yoko Nogiri | Kodansha Comics – I had forgotten that this was a series that ended in three volumes, but I would have remembered anyway given the rapidity with which Kei and Mako get together and just as quickly break up. “Let’s date first and fall in love later” rarely works in shoujo manga, especially when you’re the blond, who almost always loses out to the brunet. That happens here as well, as dating Kei does help Mako realize her feelings—for Mitsuru. That said, though the plot beats were very predictable, I thought Mako and Mitsuru’s dialogue was sweet and pure in a shoujo sort of way, and I also liked how the “stalker” plot was resolved. As with the author’s previous series, this was decent but not good enough for long-term. – Sean Gaffney
My Hero Academia, Vol. 20 | By Kohei Horikoshi | VIZ Media – I’m sorry to say that I just can’t muster up much interest for Gentle Criminal and La Brava, the villain and his acolyte who get in Midoriya’s way when he’s trying to get back to campus in time for class 1A’s performance at the school festival. Once their fight is finally over, though, it’s time for the feels. The focus on Jiro here is pretty brief, but oh so welcome, and that two-page spread of her smiling so radiantly while performing is incredible. And then, just a few pages later, there’s Mirio who is suddenly moved to tears because Eri, the girl he sacrificed so much to save, is having the time of her life. I love Mirio and Eri together, and I also love Aizawa rushing to be with Todoroki when his dad, now the number-one hero, is injured on live TV. Plus, there’s Hawks! This volume has much goodness. – Michelle Smith
My Hero Academia: Smash!!, Vol. 1 | By Kohei Horikoshi and Hirofumi Neda | VIZ Media – I’m not really a gag manga sort of person, so I didn’t expect much from My Hero Academia: Smash!!. But despite the warning from creator (and Horikoshi assistant) Hirofumi Neda that it was going to be crude, I actually thought it was quite fun! It follows along with the early events of the main story, up until the first attack by the League of Villains. Often, familiar scenes are subverted in some way, like All Might’s “you can be a hero” moment turning into a sales pitch for vitamins, but sometimes they’re expounded upon in genuinely intriguing ways, like showing how Yaoyorozu used her quirk in the fitness tests Aizawa devised. (I also liked that her classmates now prefer Yaoyorozu brand erasers.) Also, I think one panel features a tiny puking Jesus. To my surprise, I’m looking forward to volume two! – Michelle Smith
My Hero Academia: Vigilantes, Vol. 5 | By Hideyuki Furuhashi and Betten Court | Viz Media – This volume definitely felt like the fifth book in a four-book series, a constant danger when something gets really popular. Knuckleduster’s plot is resolved, and so he very pointedly, with one or two exceptions, withdraws from the series. Instead we see Pop Step and the Crawler trying to be vigilantes on their own and rapidly coming to a realization, which is underscored by licensed heroes yelling at them—they’re not powerful enough to do much more than get in the way. That said, I did enjoy seeing Midnight in her “casual” clothes, and the kid singers were very cute. A series that has turned a corner but not yet hit the next long straightaway. – Sean Gaffney
My Next Life As a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom!, Vol. 1 | By Satoru Yamaguchi and Nami Hidaka | Seven Seas – The manga adaptation of one of my favorite recent light novels didn’t have to go very far to impress me, just adapt the novel as well as it could. There’s obviously stuff that’s cut to fit (Katarina’s parents’ relationship gets a one-panel explanation), but it handles introducing the main cast well, and cuts the “alternate POV” parts which would have made the manga repetitive. Best of all is the prose short story at the end, seeing Katarina having a nightmare about the villainess her otome game self is supposed to be, and the bad choices that she makes which our Katarina can’t stop her from despite yelling inside her head. Definitely get this if you like the novels. – Sean Gaffney
The Quintessential Quintuplets, Vol. 4 | By Negi Haruba | Kodansha Comics – This is moving at a galloping pace for a romantic comedy, especially one with quintuplet heroines. There’s the bad—Ichika pursuing her dream would mean leaving school, which would mean Futaro losing tutoring money—and there’s the worse—various people getting bad, bad colds due to the weather and circumstance, which leads to a mass search for Itsuki and a bedside vigil for Futaro, whose cold of course turns out to be the worst of all. We also get another flash forward reminding us that he does eventually marry one of them, but continuing to not tell us who. Don’t expect that to be resolved till the final page of the series. For fans of harem comedy/dramas. – Sean Gaffney
Sacrificial Princess and the King of Beasts, Vol. 6 | By Yu Tomofuji | Yen Press – Anubis has finally given in and allowed a trial period for Sariphi to be Queen Consort. Unfortunately, we then see the problems that this causes, which is that the majority of the populace still isn’t ready for a human girl as the Queen. Fortunately, Sariphi is made of pretty stern stuff, and even when she’s down there are folks who can cheer her up. This allows her to resolve the fractured relationship between a mother and daughter, as well as give Amit the courage to give a token to her beloved Jor, even though as a soldier he may not be able to return that love. Honestly, this does continue to remind me a lot of Fruits Basket, but that’s not especially a bad thing. – Sean Gaffney
Skull-face Bookseller Honda-san, Vol. 1 | By Honda | Yen Press – My first exposure to Skull-face Bookseller Honda-san was through its anime adaptation. I’ve not actually watched the show, but I’ve seen enough screencaps of the titular skeleton dramatically reacting to a wide range of customer service exchanges to reasonably expect that I would love the original series. And, after reading the first volume of the manga, I can definitively say that I absolutely do. To a large extent the manga is autobiographical, based on Honda’s experiences as a clerk in the manga department of a large Tokyo bookstore. It provides entertaining insights into the life of a bookseller, showing the challenges presented by customers, publishing schedules, corporate management, and just trying to keep the shelves appropriately stocked. This could be rather dry as a subject, but in Honda’s hands the portrayal of bookselling is delightfully humorous, intense, and over-the-top in a way that is both engaging and still incredibly honest. – Ash Brown
Skull-face Bookseller Honda-san, Vol. 1 | By Honda | Yen Press – I’ve seen the first few episodes of the Skull-face Bookseller Honda-san anime and this is going to be one of those rare occasions where I have to admit that I kind of like the anime more than the manga. Certainly, Honda-sensei depicts the bookstore (specifically its manga department) as a place way more hectic than I ever anticipated, but that frenetic energy (and the kookiness of his often-foreign customers) just translates better to the animated medium, I think. That said, this volume has a lot to recommend it, particularly if you want a glimpse of what Japanese booksellers think of the global readership manga has obtained. Read it, but maybe watch it, too. – Michelle Smith
Waiting for Spring, Vol. 11 | By Anashin | Kodansha Comics – I’d long been wanting more basketball in Waiting for Spring, and I finally got my wish in this volume. The latest tournament has begun, and if the Seiryo boys want to repeal the no-dating rule, they have to win. They make to the finals league, where they’re up against Aya’s team, Hojo, and though Seiryo ends up losing, there’s still hope due to the structure of the tournament. Aya realizes his kind of love expected Mitsuki to never grow or change whereas her love for Asakura inspires her to try new things and set goals for herself, so he seemingly steps aside though he does talk about returning (he’s apparently moving back to American) once she’s grown up. Anyway, this is a cute series that I like a lot and though I don’t expect many surprises from its final two volumes, I nonetheless look forward to reading them. – Michelle Smith
By: Ash Brown
1 note · View note
little-b1rdy · 6 years ago
Text
Chapter 1 - wtf tallis its barely the first chapter
Chapter Alternative names -
tallis: you aready know shes gonna be the main chracter, tallis: we swear she not the main character Chap. 1: how many disfuctional children are there??? Like ones in jail and the others face first into the ground???? and tallis: me no like power guy All of these lovely titles go to credit @the-adorable-lua​ and @lame-4-u​
Rule #1..No crossing borders.. Its forrbiden. Rule #2.. any serve act of rebellion requires execution immediately, small acts require an amount of time spent in jail. Rule #3... absolutely no talking to people of different elements. Rule #4.. Listen to your Rulers and obey.
Those are the 4 main rules of this land. Many follow them, few try to live lives of their own, and those who do? They are immediatly killed. Sad.
But now, things are starting to change.
    Tallis was running through the streets and laughing and occasionally throwing a glance behind her. You may be wondering why she’s laughing and looking back, well that’s because she tripped a guard on their way to their “lord and savior's Temple”. Well fuck them. Tallis finally decided to stop laughing at the two guards chasing her and now was focused on getting her ass out of this situation.
     Tallis jumped out of the way of a guard that somehow ran out from a alleyway, which honestly shouldn’t have been a surprise because they don’t want drug dealers back there. But, here comes the fun, Tallis looked over at the trees and decided on something quickly, She threw her hand to the side and a vine shot out from the alleyway and quickly blocked the guards path, which gave her a little bit of time to think. But not that much because as soon as she looked back they were on her tail again, she muttered curse words, and she fixed her mask and threw herself sideways and ran into a alleyway, which she usually uses for escape routes.
      Tallis ran to the end and then looked upwards. “Shit. Okok uh-”
“Stop right there! Criminal!” Tallis snapped her head over in order to look at the guards and she just stared. A small vine slowly crept up the wall near the corner.
      Tallis raised her hands up slowly, and tilted her head, “What’s up officers?”
“You know damn well what you did, don’t play innocent.” the Guard snarls.
         “Alright Bob, i won’t” She says with a small smile. “Don’t you dare say my real name.” ‘Bob’ growls. “Just because we always get stuck having to take care of YOUR irresponsible ass in jail doesn’t give you the right to use my REAL name!”
The vine was tall enough, as long as she could make the jump she would be good, because right now she needed to get out of here. She screamed and pointed behind them, making them quickly flinch and look behind them only to see a bird, and while they stared at it, Tallis sprinted over to the vine growing in the corner and started climbing up it quickly. The guards turned around and then they started shouting, and ran over to the vine.
        Tallis was half way up the vine until she looked down and realized that one of the guards were climbing up the same vine. She was almost to the top where she would jump.
        The guard was shouting encouraging things at “Bob”, from the bottom of the vine because they knew the vine ended and she would need to jump and if she fell? Game over, they would have her. She made it to the top, and stared at the other side of the wall, she needed to jump, she needed to jump, she needed too. She stared at Bob climbing up the vine and just as he reached out to grab her foot, she jumped.
She hit the corner of the wall with a screech, and struggled to get a hold of the wall but felt her head get dizzy from the lack of breath and apparently arms gave out and she fell. She screamed and she crashed on the ground, her head hitting the ground upon impact. Thank god the roads were dirt, but that didn’t mean the impact didn’t feel like her skull was being crushed. Through the haze she realized her mask had fallen off of her face and was laying there on the ground, so she weakly reached out to try and grab it but felt her hand instantly being crushed by a foot.
     Tallis let out a loud wail and tried yanking her hand out from under the foot but the sudden motion made her head feel dizzy and it was like her whole body shut down and she passed out.
   James and Jaime were arguing like normal, and Kyra and Nimue were talking softly. Then Kyra spoke up and turned around to the two James’. “Have you two seen Tallis? She says she usually sees you two on her way here?”
   The two looked at each other and then looked back at Kyra, “We? We didn’t see her.. Maybe she’s sick?”
    “Trust me, she is like, the opposite of someone who gets sick,” Kyra says as she glances over at Nimue, who nods at this ”, I.. WE have never seen her get sick.”
     Kyra mutters, “It doesn’t matter, I’m going into her town right now and checking.” Kyra stands up and waves goodbye at them, and then disappears through the bushes. Nimue looked uncertain, and glanced over and looked at the two fire elementals. “Follow me, we are going to get geared up.”
    Kyra walked through the bushes with a confident stride, but that was almost instantly destroyed once someone fell from a tree above her. Kyra let out a shriek, and flinched backwards. She stared at the little being on the ground and looked over her shoulder to see if she could spot someone.
     Kyra turned her head back over to the kid and then slowly helped the child up and they stared at each other for a few seconds.
     “Uh? Who are you and what are you doing out here so far?” Kyra was in a stance that was both threatening and non-threatening at the same time. The kid looked at Kyra and slowly looked down, “I’m? I’m Max?” he glanced up hesitantly, “And? And I was running away from.. From..” Kyra looked at Max then took them by the hand and started marching in the same direction as before.
     “Where are you going? Dont take me back there?! Please!” Max wailed.
“Hun, I’m not going to hurt you just come with me.” Kyra said in a soft voice. Max nodded and quickly tried to keep up with Kyra’s footsteps.
      Tallis jolted up, a huge pain in her head. She blinked a few times and looked around. A jail cell. Of course. Tallis went to rub her head but as soon as she yanked upwards, she knew her hands were attached by handcuffs. Tallis let out a groan and quickly stood up, it felt like a wrecking ball was crashing into her head and she felt herself slamming into the wall repeatedly. Tallis then sat down with a grunt, she got the scared feeling out of her system now onto how to get these cuffs off. She glanced down and stood up and looked behind her and she started ramming her back into the wall as a way to possibly get the cuffs to break.
Nope..
Tallis fell on the ground and just stared at the ground, she’s going to have a visit with her favorite judge/ruler again. The Lord and Savior themselves.
     Kyra was dragging Max along and looking around mumbling to herself. Max kept glancing at Kyra but kept looking down but then all of a sudden Max felt a rough tug and they were running into a alleyway now. “SHITSHITSHIT!”
     Kyra let go of Max’s hand and ran over to a corner, a puddle of dried up blood, and a feather. “Oh god… It’s her feather..”
     Kyra looked over at the other corner and put a hand to her mouth. In the corner vines where wilting in there and they seemed to look like the designs Tallis had in her vines.
      “Oh my god she got caught…” Krya had tears pricking at her eyes as she got up and walked over to the vines rubbing her hand on the vines. Kyra turned around and stares at Max.
       “Follow me.” Kyra swiftly walked down the alleyway and out onto the streets. Max looked at the feather on the ground, and quickly dropped down and grabbed it carefully then ran to catch up with Kyra.
        James was following Nimue through the forest in order to get to the armor and weapons part of camp. James glanced back and stopped walking, “Come on Matt!”
        Matt slowly emerged from the bushes, pushing them out from his way. “Why are we heading to get our weapons?” Matt glanced around, “We aren’t getting ready to attack, right?”
Nimue looked hesitant before anwsering this but soon stopped, turned, and started to rub her neck. “Well? Tallis-”
        “Tallis is in jail again isn’t she…” Nimue just smiled, “We aren’t sure about that, but right now we need everything out in case she is in immediate danger.. Probably not but there has to be a limit to how many times you can go to jail and not come out dead?” Nimue turned around and briskly kept walking and James, Jaime, and Matt quickly followed after her.
        Tallis was forced to stand up quickly and her legs almost gave out beneath her. Tallis was numb and could barely move so instead of the guards doing what they normally do, they grab her, and pretty much give her support so they can drag her to their destination.
        “Y’all are really fuckin strong you know that?” Tallis said, sorta as a sarcastic comment but also as a, please loosen up you damn grip my arms are going into the 9th stage of numbness because of you, and the 9th stage of numbness doesn’t even exist. Lovely.
       They didn’t get the memo so they kept walking through the hallway, Tallis forced down the little noises she wanted to make in order for them to let go, but she knew she already showed too much weakness. Tallis was staring at the floor when the guards stopped walking. When she looked up slowly, there was a door, and 2 other guards doing their job by the door. One of them looked straight at her and said, “Her again? God damn,” and none of them spoke for maybe 10 minutes as they waited to enter the door. Thank god in those 10 minutes she felt her legs come back to reality and she wanted to say something but, nah.
        That’s around the time the guard on the left of the door pretty much shouted like usual, “THE KING IS READY TO SEE YOU”
                                          Well, she’s royally fucked.
     Kyra was now running down the street with Max on her heels. “Okokok,” Kyra looks back and gestures for Max to go into the alleyway and look out for guards. Max stared at Kyra and said, “Why can’t i go up there with you so I don’t have to yell to tell you?”
      Kyra blinks, then looks away. “Fine.” Kyra bends over slightly and picks up Max. She looks around and then finds a spot to start climbing. She walked over to the corner which seemed like it had the most grip, and said, “Get on my back..”
      Max crawled over her shoulder and was now on her back in order to make things go quicker. As soon as Max settled down, Kyra launched herself up and started to climb up the building. Kyra launched herself up and landed with ease. Instantly she started looking around below, a few prisoners, but no Tallis.
     Kyra starts walking at a fast pace on the top of the walls looking for her. “God, where could she possibly be?!” She  quickly turned and was now running toward a building that was attached to the prison. She knew this place. This was the place the judge sat, and if Tallis wasn’t out there then.. She was going or is IN there already. Kyra quickly put Max down and looked over at the glass ceiling and looked down. There she was.
     Tallis was being dragged up toward the judge. Kyra stared at Tallis, and she kept mumbling to herself, then she felt herself slowly trying to open one of the windows. She kept grunting and trying and eventually got the window to open, and almost instantly, she could hear the whole conversation.
  Tallis was looking up at the judge but felt a rough shove and she stumbled closer to them, more than she wanted to be. She looks up and just smiles. She doesn’t bow, she doesn’t treat this judge like the oh so holy creature everyone says they are, because she knows the truth. The judge stares at her and then finally says, “This is your 10th? 10th time you’ve been in this room.. This is getting ridiculous!”
   She kept that smile on her face, not responding, and honestly just waiting to hear the words, ‘KILL HER’. But she didn’t.
  “The more you come here the harsher the punishment is going to be you know this. So why,” The Judge sighs, “And this time? You’re in jail because you tripped one of the guards.” Tallis couldn’t hold in her laughter and lost her shit. But she was shut up after one of the guards rammed their spear into her back, and electricity ran throughout her body, making her scream and collapse. After the pain stopped Tallis started giggling then said, “that was really kinky y’all” and the guard hit her on the head and she hit the floor with a grunt.
    “Say that kind of stuff one more time and we are putting this spear through your heart.” the guard growls.
   Tallis rolls her eyes and quickly tries sitting up but felt light headed so she just collapsed again with a sigh. “Anyway, as i was saying.. This is your last time. We are going to keep you here for a few months but if you do something one more time? We’re going to have to kill you,” Tallis stared at the judge, surprised, but not so surprised because she knew she would be told this, “You’ve been here so many times! No one in.. No one ever did that before.”
       Tallis grinned, “Put that on my grave when you kill me, say this person has been in jail? 20 times before they actually killed her.. I would love that! Tha-!” The guard rammed the spear into her back again and she was electrocuted. Tallis shut up. The judge sighed and rubbed his head, “You’re dismissed, you’ll be in here for maybe 5 month-” Tallis jolted up, “5 MONTHS?? JUST FOR TRIPPING THESE JACKAS-”
        The guard quickly electrocuted Tallis again and watched as Tallis fell on the ground unconscious.
Characters that were mentioned in this story belongs to : @pr4y-forthe-wick3d  - Jaime @cuteiemonster  - Matt @cakerulerofrowlets - Nimue @iwi1014f  - Kyra and Max @catzgam3rz - James and me - Tallis
10 notes · View notes
michael-hearteyes-wheeler · 7 years ago
Text
Bad Brains
[1] [2] [3]
Chapter 4: At War with Myself.
(AO3) (FFnet)
November 15th, 1987
When El said goodbye to her old life, she had left everything behind and not looked back. She thought she could just drop everything and start over, with a new family, in a new town, at a new school, and a new outlook. She was right for the most part, but one thing she didn't account for were the nightmares.
God the nightmares.
It was like her own brain was betraying her. Every night she would go to sleep and be forced to relieve everything that she had gone through. Being passed around from home to home, every abusive foster parents, every meal she missed, every time she had been abandoned and left alone to fend for herself.
She lost count, after awhile, of all of the people and places she had met. All of their faces began to blur together into one ugly scowl of resentment and hatred. And in her dreams that same face taunted her, and chased her, and made her feel like the scum of the earth. She heard their voices, telling her that she wasn't good enough, that no one would ever love her. That she was doomed to spend her life unwanted and forgotten about.
These dreams always put her in a haze for the days that followed. Like a black cloud of self hatred and fear that she couldn't escape. The Therapist Hop made her see had told her it was normal, and that after a while it would go away, but that didn't make it any easier.
One more than one occasion her sobbing had woken Hopper up from his room down the hall,  he always tried his best to console her, but some things are just too painful to leave in the past, they just haunt you forever.
Tonight was different though. Instead of being woken up by her adoptive father gently holding her and telling her it would be okay, she woke up to complete and utter silence. She jolted upright, and tried to listen for the sounds of Hoppers breathing down the hallway, but there was nothing. No TV downstairs, no shuffling in the kitchen, no footsteps in the bathroom. It was strange, and unsettling, and it was far too reminiscent of all of the times this had happened in the past.
Waking up alone in a house you barely recognize, with no one around to hold you.
She swung her legs out from under her thick quilt into the cool night air. She tiptoed across her room and opened the door, not wanting to make a sound. She made her way to the staircase and listened hard for the usual sounds of the TV blaring some late night talk show below, but there was only silence in reply. She took a deep breath and descended the stairs.
She felt the breath leave her body when she saw his keys were still hanging up on the tiny hook next to his hat. He’s still here. She walked into the living room.
She could see his outline, wrapped in pulsing blue light from the TV screen. He was sitting in his usual chair, but instead of watching the program, he had set it on silent, and he was resting his head in his hand, the way he did when he was upset.
“Hop?” She said after a few seconds. Her voice so hoarse it was hardly more than a whisper.
Jim didn't say anything, instead he just stuck his arm out and waved El over. She complied, rounding his chair to face him. He had been crying, his skin was red and puffy and his eyes were badly bloodshot. She had never seen him cry before, he was always so strong.
“What's wrong?” Her own voice caught in her throat as if she had been the one crying.
He said nothing again, but he pulled her into a bear hug, holding her tightly as she curled into his lap. It was strange, but it also felt completely necessary. No one had held her, or hugged her, or cradled her in years, but it was something she didn't know she needed until tears started rolling down her cheeks.
They stayed that way for a long time. Both silent, the only noise spilling quietly from the TV in the corner. Jim rubbed her head, her hair was a mess of loose curls from her shower the night before. It was rare that she didn't have them slicked back and he always messed with them when he got the chance.
“I hope you know that I care about you more than anyone else in the world.” He finally said. His voice even more gravely than usual.
She pulled away from the hug to look at him, for the first time, finally seeing what he looked like when he cried. She could hear the sincerity in his voice, and read it in his eyes, but it was hard for her accept. “Why?” It was the only thing she could think to say.
“Because you needed someone to take care of you. Because you were all alone but you still acted so tough” He chuckled despite his tears. “And because while I thought I was just doing my job, just doing the right thing, I needed someone to take care of. I needed a reason to be a better person.” His voice was full of guilt and remorse. He sounded so vulnerable compared to how calloused he usually was.
With that she started crying harder. Her small frame shaking with her sobs. He hugged her closer and rocked her gently the way he used to with his own daughter.
“I just hope you know how much I love you, Kid. Even if it takes you the rest of your life to believe. I love you.”
El hugged her father tighter. His words were hard to swallow, because not long ago she wouldn't have been able to believe him. But now that they were all each other had, she knew she had to start the process of forgiving herself for all of the things she blamed herself for, and move on. When everyone leaves you, you start to assume it's your fault, but Jim never let her think for a second that it was.
“I know Jim. I love you too.”
November 20th, 1987
The next week flew by.
Max’s evil plan had gone off without a hitch. Thompson cancelled his classes for two days while he and the janitor cleaned up the mess. They had no leads as to who the perpetrators were because, after all, he was the most hated teacher in school.
Max and El started spending more and more time with the Geek Team, or the ‘Party’ as they called it. Max, Dustin and Lucas formed an unlikely bond and hung out almost every chance they got. They often rode around together, the boys on their bikes and Max on her board, to the arcade after school. Rumor has it that Max even went with them to the library one day so Dustin could show her his favorite book about the history of practical jokes.
El and Will bonded pretty quickly too. It turns out that little Byers had a pretty expansive music taste.
“I should have known!” El had told Will after finding his The Clash mix in his backpack. “Jonathan complimented me on my Talking Heads shirt on the first day of school. He was like the first person to ever talk to me here.”
Then began a daily routine of gushing over new albums and songs, and debating the merits of one band over another. They made each other mixtapes and often walked to and from the classes they shared, squishing their heads together to listen to Els dinky headphones.
The only one who seemed out of place was Mike. Ever since Max told him the way El felt, a concept he still had trouble believing, he found it really hard to be around with her without turning into a big dope. He was almost jealous of Wills connection with her, but ultimately he was just happy Will had found someone he had so much in common with.
It was a grouping that rattled the entire High School social ladder. Could scary punk girls really be friends with scrawny nerds? Could brainiacs really stand hanging around cigarette smoking, thick-skulled, freaks? It was weird, that was for sure, but it didn't really start to freak anyone out until the first day that they all sat together at lunch.
“Holy shit are they coming to eat with us!?” Dustin spat as the two girls, lunch trays in hand, slowly made their way across the cafeteria.
“Why wouldn't they? They are our friends aren't they?” Mike said, pushing his gross mushy peas around on the plastic tray.
“Well yeah! But sitting with someone at lunch is a way bigger deal than just hanging out in between classes. Once you eat lunch with someone you are socially cemented together for life!”
“Stop being so dramatic.” Lucas flicked Dustin's ear. “I'm just glad they aren't eating out behind the dumpster like usual. That's what’s weird.”
The girls walked over, faining obliviousness to the blatant stairs from around the room, and plopped down at the boys table. Max taking a seat next to Lucas, and El squeezing herself in between Will and Mike.
“So what are we doing today?” Max said with a mouthful of bread.
“What do you mean?” Will asked.
“Its friday, as in the weekend, as in no school so we need to do something fun.”
“We could go to the arcade!” Lucas chimed.
“Ugh no we do that like everyday and i'm out of money.” Max groaned. The other boys nodded and mumbled something about being broke too.
“Okay well... We could go to the library.” Dustin contemplated.
“I mean I guess, but that hardly sounds like an exciting weekend.” Max rolled her eyes.
Mike thought about all of the things that might be fun to do, but he figured that most of them were too dorky for El and Max to want to be a part of. He looked over at El and watched her passively stab at her food. Mostly just mixing it around rather than eating it.
“Everything okay?” He asked her quietly. It's not like the other could hear over Dustin and Max’s bickering anyway.
“Huh?” She looked up at him, suddenly snapped back to reality. “Oh yeah. Everything is fine I just... i'm failing geometry and my dad is totally going to freak out on me. Mrs. Lawrence asked me to stay after class and everything. I doubt i'll be able to do anything this weekend.”
“Oh that really sucks.” He mused. Mike had never failed anything in his life, and he could only imagine the wrath of his mother if he ever did. He had always enjoyed math in all of its forms, he excelled at it. He was even Mrs. Lawrence's star pupil, a title that earned him a lot of torment.
“Are you hearing this shit El!?” Max hollered from across the table. El jumped from the startle of being yelled at and looked up. “They told me there is a cool junk yard on a hill! It has a bunch of old broken down cars and TV’s and stuff!”
“That sounds cool.” El smiled with a slight nod. “But I don't think I can hang out today.”
“Well your loss then, i'm totally going to smash in some windows.” Max high-fived Dustin and Lucas and they planned their entire trip.
The rest of the day went by in a fog for El. The emotional interaction she had with Hopper just a few days before had put her in a weird headspace. She really was learning to love him, even if it terrified her. He was goofy, and protective, and above all else he was trying. So she wanted to try too.
El had always been great with anything English related. When she didn't have anyone to play with or talk to, books became her best friends. So while she had an A in English Lit., and in her creative writing class, math was another story. She hated it. Numbers made no sense to her. Not the way words did. But, she had promised herself to stay out of detention, and to get her grades up, and if that meant suffering through after school study sessions with her teacher then so be it.
After her final class of the day, she made the long walk of shame back to Mrs. Lawrence's classroom and waved goodbye to Max, Dustin, and Lucas who were all going off to the junkyard.
“Good afternoon Ms. Hopper.” Lawrence said from behind her romance novel. “Why don't you take a seat while we wait for your tutor to arrive.”
“Tutor?” El gaped. Her heart started racing at the thought of having to spend the next three hours with some asshole, mouth breathing, brainiac who would no doubt belittle and talk down to her the entire time.
“Yes dear. Here he comes now.”
El swiveled around to watch her dreaded mentor walk through. But instead of some rude, gossipy stranger it none other than;
“Mike!?” Els mouth fell open, and then turned into a wide grin. Three hours alone with Mike in the quiet library? That didn't sound too bad at all.
“Mr. Wheeler has the highest grade of all my students” Mrs. Lawrence beamed, standing up from her desk with a stack of papers that she handed to Mike. “This is everything Ms. Jane needs to get caught up on. I know its a lot but if anyone can help her it's you.”
“Yeah no problem, it's my pleasure.” Mike smiled coyly at El and she blushed.
The two of them walked slowly toward the schools library where a couple of other students were studying. It was mostly empty and really quite. They found a private corner with two cozy chairs and a small table between them and set up the stacks of papers, sharp pencils, and textbooks. El and Mike couldn't stop stealing quick glances at each other.
El pulled her legs up into her chair so she was criss-cross, and leaning over her hardly used textbook. Mike noticed the tiny doodles all over the tips of her converse, and the way she nervously picked at her chipped black nail polish. When Mrs. Lawrence had asked him to tutor someone after school he had practically jumped out of his skin, knowing it would be El. And now he got to watch the way her nose wrinkled in confusion at problems she didn't understand, and the way she rubbed the bridge of her nose the way he had seen Chief Hopper do whenever he had to come to the school to break up a fight.
“So...” Mike started, remembering a key piece of information that Mrs. Lawrence had told him. El looked up, her doe eyes expectant. “Jane?”
El's wide eyes somehow shot open wider and her mouth dropped open into a half surprised, half smiling, glare. “Do not call me that!” She slammed her textbook closed and pointed a finger at him. He couldn't help but laugh.
“Why not? Jane is a good name.” He snickered.
“Oh my god no its not! It's a name for a grandma!” She rubbed her temples. “I haven't gone by Jane since I was like 6. It's not me.”
“Well where does El come from then?”
“It was a nickname an old friend gave me a long time ago. Its short for Eleven.” She shrugged, her cheeks turning a brilliant shade of pink. Eleven had been her bed number at the massive foster home she stayed at. Everyone called each other by their bed numbers, or their home cities. Keeping a level of unfamiliarity between each other, because they knew nothing was permanent.
“Eleven? Like the number?” His nose crinkled in confusion.
“Its... kind of a long story.” El's smile faded as she glanced at her shoes.
“Well I think Jane is cute.” He smiled at her. His freckles rising and falling on his cheeks.
El's heart constricted and her stomach twisted itself into little buzzing knots, and just like that, she was grinning again. He was so nice, and sweet, and adorable! It made her feel like her protective walls were coming down and it horrified her.
‘God I am such a sucker.’
He was still staring at her and her heart only beat faster.
‘Shit what would Max do? What would Max say? Max wouldn't be a little coward.’
“Well I think you're cute.” She said, turning her nose up just slightly the way Max always did. Mikes eyes flew open and now it was hit turn to redden and bury his face in his hands.
“Lets... lets just study okay?” He said under his breath with an embarrassed grin.
El opened her book again and they started tackling one assignment after another. Mike really was great at geometry, and he was even good at explaining it in a way that made sense. A couple of times he had shifted to the very edge of his seat so that their knees were touching. He would lean over the book in her lap and point to various problems on the page and simplify them for her. She loved watching the way he pushed up the sleeves of his long polo when he got invested in explaining a problem, and the way he bit his lips when he focused. She was actually having fun while learning!
Every time she looked up from her notes, the sight of him made her head swim. She couldn't quite figure it out. Why did he make her feel this way? It was all so new and unfamiliar. They had very little in common, at least from what she knew about him, and if it weren't for Lucas and Dustin wanting to be daredevils all of the sudden then they would never have hung out in the first place. Mike was painfully dorky, and painfully different than anyone El had ever imagined herself being with, and yet she imagined being with him all the time. What was it about him that drew her in?
For Mike it was much of the same. El was definitely the last person he ever expected to be making heart-eyes at in the Library. She certainly wasn't the type of girl that his parents would want him bringing home (although they would probably be happy with him bringing any girl home). But everything about her fascinated him. At first it seemed like maybe it was just the fact that she was the first girl to ever really talk to him, or laugh at his jokes, or invite him to hang out. He assumed it would wear off and she would become just his good friend the way Max was, but the longer they spent time together the more intense his feelings became. Suddenly it was like everything she did filled him with fascination and adoration.
She was a mystery that he wanted to solve. He closed his book and stretched, feeling a bit stiff from leaning over his notes for so long.
“El?” He asked tentatively, wanting to get to the bottom of at least some part of all this. She looked up at him curiously with those warm doe eyes of hers. “What... what is your deal?” He wasn't really sure how to put it, but he knew that that probably wasn't it.
“My deal?” El asked raising her eyebrows and looking somewhat offended.
“Shit I didn't mean it like that... I just mean like...” He thought for a second, wanting to find better words this time. “I have just never met anyone like you before, and I never thought someone like you would want to talk to someone like me, let alone hang out with me. And I have never been to Chicago so I don't know what people look like or act like there but you are just so different from what I thought you would be.” By the end of his speech he was mumbling and speeding through his words.
El laughed and closed her book. “Haven't you ever heard the saying ‘Don't Judge a book by its cover?’ She waved her textbook at him. She was still smiling, so that was a good sign, wasn't it?
“Well yeah of course I have I just mean-”
“You just mean that you thought I was going to be some angry, bitter, feminist, psycho who would rather kick your teeth than be seen talking to a nerd.” El interrupted, still smiling but also still completely dejected.
“No no not at all!” Mike back-peddled. El raised her eyebrows and he caved. “Okay yeah maybe a little.”
“Well there are a lot of things you don't know about me.” El crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “I might be a little bitter, and a little angry but you would be too if you had seen the things that I have seen. But i'm not mean, at least not to people who don't deserve it.”
Mike felt like an idiot. “You're right. I don't really know anything about you, but I would like too.”
She eyed him carefully. He was getting way too close for comfort with her emotions. “We are just from completely different planets okay? You wouldn't get it.”
Now it Mikes turn to be offended. He may not share her experiences but he considered himself a fairly empathetic person. “You don't know that I wouldn't get it. There is a lot you don't know about me either.”
“Let's see about that.” El snorted, sitting forward to look directly at him. “I'll bet your parents are still together, and super in love. I bet your dad has a good job and makes a ton of money so your mom gets to stay home all day baking cakes. I bet when your dad comes home at night your mom drops everything and hands him a beer and rubs his feet. I bet they love and support you and give you everything you have ever wanted.” Her eyes were like daggers, piercing through him.
Mike scoffed and shook his head. “Now who is judging who? I'll have you know that my dad is a bastard. I wish my parents would just split up already because they may as well be complete strangers. My dad thinks I am a loser and my mom tries her best, I guess, but they both basically don't pay any attention to me.” He was raising his voice slightly, talking about his family always put him on edge. El just stared at him silently, clearly not expecting the outburst.
“I'm the only boy, and my dad wanted so badly for me to be into sports and be all athletic like he was in school, but i'm not and I know he resents me for it. So yeah, maybe I have had a good comfortable life with two parents in a nice house, and maybe my parents do love me but the definitely don't like me.” Mike slumped back in his chair with his arms crossed tightly against himself.
El softened, realizing that all of that was probably really hard for him to say. She put a hand on his knee despite him looking away from her. “Look i'm sorry. I didn't mean to come off like a bitch, okay? I know what's it's like to have an asshole father. Believe me.”
Mike turned towards her and dropped his arms into his lap. El was still holding his knee but she was staring solemnly at the ground. “Is... Is that why Hopper adopted you? Because of your dad?” He asked in almost a whisper.
El took a deep breath and nodded. She could feel her protective force field falling down around her, and as much at it terrified her, it also felt like maybe it was the right thing to do. Maybe it was better to talk about it.
“Yeah. Kind of. It's a lot.... that I don't really want to get into.” She pulled her hand from Mike's leg to play with the frays on her shoe laces nervously.
“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But i'm here if you need to talk.” He patted her arm gently and it made her smile.
“Thanks. It's just hard to think about.” She took a sobering breath and gained her composure. “I was really little so I don't remember very much, so I guess that's good. But before Hopper found me I was living on the streets with some other foster kids. I looked up to them a lot and they showed me all about music, and art, and about how corrupt society is. We ran away and it was scary but it felt really exciting to be part of something for the first time. We were like a family..”
“Do you miss them?” Mike asked quietly.
El shrugged.. “Sometimes. But they bailed on me too. That's when Hopper found me, and I am really grateful for that.” She grinned crookedly. She had only ever really opened up to Max about any of that, and it wasn't even scratching the surface of what she was holding onto. But saying it all out loud made it easier somehow, like it wouldn't weigh on her so heavily.
“Well i'm glad you are here now, and that you have a family, and new friends.” He smiled at her, leaning in closer, their faces only a few inches apart. “Because we would never leave you or hurt you.”
“You can’t know that.” She dropped her gaze from his to her hands in her lap.
“I promise.” He grabbed her hands in his and squeezed them lightly. “Our parties number one rule is that friends don't lie.” He tilted his head under hers so that she was forced to look at him, and could see that he meant it. “And besides, if I can put up with Lucas and Dustin after all of these years then i’m sure you will be no problem at all.” He flashed a silly grin at her and it made her chuckle.
“Okay then. It's a promise.” She pulled from his grasp and held her hand out firmly for him to shake. He did so sternly and they both giggled, turning red in the face.
Usually El didn’t care about someone else's promise, because no one had ever kept their word to her before, but something about Mike seemed so trustworthy. She still had a difficult time with even the idea of opening up. She still blamed herself for so much, and with Mikes kindness and honestly, it just felt like too much. Like she didn't deserve it. Like he would, at any moment, realize that she was a mess, and he and the rest of the party were far better off without her. That they would leave her too, but at least she was willing to try. Mike made her want to try.
Three long dreaded hours had flown by in only minutes, and before either of them knew it, the Librarians as informing them that the library would be closing.
“So did any of that help?” Mike asked as he shoved his notebooks back into his backpack.
“Yeah actually, it helped a lot. I think I can probably finish the rest of this over the weekend.” She smiled at him and stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
They both made their way outside into the chilly November evening. The sun was still about an hour from setting, but everything was vaguely tinted a pale shade of autumn orange. They both stood in awkward silence for a few minutes, neither wanting to say goodbye just yet.
Mike reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the ground. “I um... I had fun hanging out with you.” His pale freckles were awash in red blush.
“I had fun hanging out with you too.” El punched his arm playfully. “And if I need any help with my homework this weekend, i'll call you.”
“Sounds good.” He beamed, smiling wider than he meant to. “Okay well... I guess I will see you later?”
“Yeah see you around.” El hugged her denim jacket tighter around herself and prepared for the walk home. Mike turned around and shuffled off towards the bike rack, when El remembered something. “Hey Mikey?” She hollered.
He whipped around so quickly that he tripped over his own feet, making her giggle. “Yeah what's up?” He semi-jogged back over to her.
She dug into her backpack and pulled out her Walkman. She pressed the little eject button and the tape deck popped open. “Here, why don't you listen to this over the weekend and report back to me with what you think on Monday. That way you have homework too.” She grinned.
“Yeah sounds awesome!” He blurted. She giggled again.
“Okay, Wheeler. See ya.” She waved goodbye one last time and turned away, walking up the long hill towards home. She reached reflexively for the pack of cigarettes in her pocket and lit one, letting warm smoke waft into the fall air around her. It was one of the first times in a long time that she wasn't using it to calm her nerves, because the nerves she felt were strangely comforting.
Mike held the little plastic tape in his hands and felt warm blush cross his face for what must have been the hundredth time that evening.
11 notes · View notes
robbyrise · 8 years ago
Text
RANGERS REBORN.
Tumblr media
So good it makes me wanna type away like i used to. 
Just got back from my first viewing of the Power Rangers and i’m glad to announce I am very satisfied with what was put on the big screen. Like most movies i didn’t have any crazy expectations for the film, just minor details here and there like the story going its own route to make it different and unique from the original show but still keeping true to its essence.
My only worry for this reincarnation of a great past time from my childhood would be the fact that the old shows (and even first 2 movies) were just so corny, so bad yet so good. Trust me, there are times when i come across clips and what have you, from the old shows that make me cringe when i realized how lame and corny it was. How could they possibly make this movie NOT corny? 
Why and how was i so drawn to this kind of entertainment? The power rangers taught me a sense of unity and it was probably what opened my eyes to being a part of and trusting your team (besides the Knicks). My favorite color back then was blue, so naturally Billy was my favorite ranger despite being the total opposite of his personality. 
If you’re a true fan, if you were there from the beginning till maybe the 3rd-4th generation of Rangers, and you don’t have high expectations of the new movie, you will probably find yourself feeling so much nostalgia from your childhood and it will open your eyes to how much the first group really made you appreciate the essence of wanting to become a power ranger. 
This is as far as I’ll go in regards to not spoiling anything. So if you haven’t seen it yet and plan on seeing it and don’t want me to ruin anything, stop reading here and come back later after you see it. If you don’t care and just want to keep reading because you’re bored, by all means go for it, just don’t say i didn’t warn you.
*SPOILERS*
The fact that they changed the story a little bit was already an indicator that i did the right thing in not wanting to expect anything from the movie that would impress me or even predict. Don't ask me how i remember this, but if i recall, the very first episode of the power rangers season 1 has something to do with a dumpster. Dumpster day or something. I don’t know, i just remember reading it, yes i could (somewhat) read at 5-6 years old. I remember Alpha and Zordon were already established in their ‘Command Center” and sensed Rita Repulsa’s escape from captivity. Want to know how she escaped? Go watch the original ORIGINAL intro of the series and you’ll see astronauts pushing over the lid of a genie stove top releasing the alien witch. The movie has her as a FORMER RANGER, the GREEN RANGER to be exact. Some will think it’s lame, i thought it was cool and acceptable. 
Recruiting. 
How the movie’s story pits the potential rangers together is a testament to the original series and how Zordon ordered Alpha to recruit “individuals with attitude.” The new teenagers portraying our beloved Jason, Zack, Billy, Trini, and Kimberly were all somewhat trouble makers/rebels. All of them rebels in their own right. All of them having something deep inside that could only brought out about themselves through each other, something we could really appreciate with the original rangers. 
Morphers? 
Remember it’s morphin time? And BOOM, out comes the morphers that EVERYBODY HAD AS A KID, well, almost everybody, and the rangers TRIBEAMED their transformation into rangers and the awesome theme came on and you know shit’s about to go down. I appreciate the fact that they really displayed these ‘rebels’ having a dark side to their personality and using the good inside them to be their source and spark to their armor.  Five strangers becoming friends and willing to do whatever they had to do for the greater good of their town. 
The Zeo crystals. 
I didn’t realize the importance of the crystals on the show until the Zeo rangers came about (potentially setting up a new franchise). It was referenced on the show numerous times as well. But what granted our rangers their powers were their crystals, or on the show the gold coins with their Zord animals on them.
OH, don’t worry, i’ll get to the Zords. The movie gives us a better perspective of how these teenagers with attitude came about and ‘trained’ as Rangers to defeat Rita. The show pretty much put them in suits and rangers like billy and Kim magically learned martial arts whereas Jason, Trini and Zack were already established martial artists. The new rangers were forced into training by Zordon and even Alpha. 
Backstories. 
The writers and producers did just enough to cover each character’s lives leading up to their discovery of the power coins crystal things. All well enough for them to be unique and appreciated in their own right. Billy the nerd with some loner/awkward issues who’s father disappeared (passed away perhaps?), Zack being a wild rebel with a sick mother, Jason the star jock athlete with a desire for trouble and a disappointed father, Trini (pronounced Trin-E in the move, not Treen-e like the original show) who jumped schools every year because of you guessed it, being a rebel and then Kimberly, who had personal issues ‘not being a good friend’ i guess? She was a cheerleader also vs. the Kimberly from the 90′s that was a gymnast. 
ZORDS.
Again, i’ll reiterate, there were times when I realized the old show was corny as fuck. And yes, the old Zords, while being badass in their own right, were still corny... as fuck. They were literally just remote control toys that were zoomed in on by the camera to make it seem like they were huge robots on TV. HOWEVER. If you were to fuse a real life Gundam wing with a Beast Wars transformer, you’d probably get a Zord from the new movie. The massive robot reference to crushing Bumblebee was very poetic. I’m glad i had a good crowd because they laughed and applauded that. But these new Zords? I’d say they were pretty fuckin awesome. I just personally feel like they made those corny robots toys that were on screen, cool and transformer like. Just again, in their own unique power ranger way. 
TRUE ESSENCE.
I mentioned ‘essence’ earlier in this write up and that essence is something that could only be felt if you were part of the beginning. When the original rangers, despite being so cheesy and corny, made you want to be a ranger SO BAD. The concept of the power rangers teaches us the power of unity and what the team could accomplish if they worked together. They struggled to reach the full potential of their powers, almost 2 weeks even (11 days to be exact b/c thats when Alpha calculated Rita could strike). But they did to the expense of Billy who later on was revived by Zordon as Zordon realized it wasn’t his team to lead. Remember when Zordon was about to die in the 1st Mighty Morphin Power Rangers movie? the adorably HOT Kimberly at the time said, “You’re like a father to us all.” Zordon guiding the Rangers towards the right direction to reach their potential, and giving Billy the 2nd chance to live showed qualities of just that in being a father like figure to the rangers, something he’s very accustomed to in the show and previous movies. In the old show, there were PLENTY OF TIMES when the rangers “were at their doom” at the hands of Rita and Lord Zed, but they somehow ALWAYS found a way to win. 
I’ll give you a perfect example of true essence. When the rangers and their Zords were pushed to the edge and they had to ‘hold the line’? Their struggle vs Goldar. Man... seeing the commercials I KNEW that the Mega Zord was going to be formed and it was going to kick serious ass, but the moments leading up to that they were all ready to die TOGETHER? I’m not gunna lie, i had the same feeling form up in my feels when Woody and Buzz held onto their friends at the end of Toy Story 3 before the claw saved them (shouts to swag surfer). As the cinema Gods as my witness, NO MOVIE has made me feel that way since Toy Story 3, LEGIT, until the new power rangers because I KNEW WHAT THE OUTCOME WAS and yet there i was, sitting on my seat reminding myself, “wow... i haven’t felt this urgent sorrow for ANY GROUP OF CHARACTERS since toy story 3.” And then they fall into the pit and you hear the Zords forming and i get this huge relief and burden lifted off my shoulders and i applaud with the crowd thanking God the tears forming in my eyes didn’t stream out b/c that would've been really embarrassing. But yeah, i’m applauding, the crowd is applauding and Billy has that comic relief line of Mama Zord-Mega Zord and as they try to advance the entire Zord falls over. Well fcuking done. No really, they didn’t just magically download the program to operate a “65 million year old alien robot” in a few seconds to their brains, they actually taught themselves how to operate their respective body part that was formed by their Zord. Again, unity, team work, Power Rangers... WOOOOO!!!!!!
I’m still kind of in shock at how much i actually enjoyed this movie. And i think that’s due to the fact that the crowd i watched the movie with was probably one of the better crowds i had watched a movie with since i got to Washington. Really. The movie culture here isn’t as passionate as what we have in New York but anyway back to the movie.
Alpha 5 said his signature line 2x,the black guy is actually the blue ranger and the asian is the BLACK ranger, both the pink and yellow rangers are cute & hot AF, Rita made her monster grow and said her token line as well. There weren’t any communicators, there wasn’t a bulk or skull even though i think the bully in the movie was supposed to be one of them i’m not too sure. Mid credit scene = Thomas Oliver = Power Rangers 2. Speaking of Tommy, the actor and actress who played they original Tommy and original Kimberly cameos probably had the biggest applause of the movie. Boom. Might be a little too early to bring in Lord Zedd in the 2nd movie, MAYBE hint or reference him like Rita did in regards to the Zeo crystals.
Future?
The Power Rangers have a generation of fans that first started watching and admiring them at such young age that are now PROFESSIONALS, MARRIED AND WITH KIDS. Granted, the series has gone onto bumblefuck abyss because i obviously lost track of where the TV series has gone, that old generation could show their kids what they used to watch, and be like, “That movie that’s out? That’s a remake of the ORIGINAL rangers, the founding fore fathers of what you young maggots are watching now” kind of deal. 
I AM PRAYING that this generates enough revenue and popularity that they make a nice, LONG MOVIE SERIES because THERES SO MUCH potential. Maybe something Disney could look into working a deal with Saban b/c there’s just too much to let slip away. You got franchises like Fast and the Furious that’s gone off track from how great it was before the 4th/5th movies, but could somewhat catch up to and pass GI Joe (unless they actually cross over with, wait for it...), and maybe be half as good as the Transformer series (yes, GI Joe and Transformers could crossover, because they have in the comics). I look at transformers and think thats a good goal to strive for, because movie series like James Bond, LOTR, the Matrix, and Star Wars are just at an elite level. Then I see franchises like the Underworld, Resident Evil movies (sorry, i’m just not a fan of them) and Sharknado (IDK how and why people find those movies entertaining), and it gives me hope that the Power Rangers movie reboot could just be the thing we need in the movie industry to keep it interesting unless Japan and Hollywood could work something out to bring Gundam Wing to life. 
*CUE BLOG SOUNDTRACK ENDING CREDIT AND MOVIE RATING THEME = VAN HALEN - DREAMS*
ANYWAY. 9/10 Power Rangers. I’m going to see it again. WITHOUT A DOUBT.
Off topic final thought:
Where are my movie junkies at? This is off topic but i know you’d appreciate this. I had a dream... you ready? I had a dream, that Christopher Nolan, Steven Spielberg and George Lucas all worked together to make an American interpretation of Spirited Away with a movie score composed by Hanz Zimmer. Call me crazy, but i woke up and had mixed emotions about it.
5 notes · View notes
roxy-davenport · 8 years ago
Text
Eight Days of Winchester
Title: Eight Days of Winchester
Prompt: Jewish/Hanukkah/ For @saxxxology’s SPN Holiday Challenge
Word Count: 5,534 (Whoops)
Warnings: None
A/N: Fluff, Young Dean, Young Reader, Young Sam. This is told in the reader’s POV. I huge thanks to my beta @dr-dean for letting me pick your brain about Hannukah. You were a very thorough and awesome beta answering every single question I had. Thank you so much.
Also on A03
Day 1
 My mom invited this guy over to dinner. She barely even knows him but I can tell she likes him already. It’s been awhile since she found someone she liked. I promised her I’d be on my best behavior. She informs me the man has two very handsome sons -- she’s seen pictures apparently. I had an eye roll so epic I think my eyes actually rolled all the way back into my skull. But I put on my favorite dress just in case she wasn’t lying. I didn’t hold out much hope. My mom insisted the boys all come over and taste some good home cooking. The man, John I think she said his name was, said he wasn’t much of a cook and so mom insisted they come over. The holidays were supposed to be family time but I couldn’t hold it against mom. If this guy made her happy, I could give him a chance.
 Mom got out the Hanukkah menorah along with the candles. I always thought the menorah looked pretty with colored candles.
 “You remember why there are eight days to Hanukah, right?”
 I rolled my eyes yet again.
 “Yep, I remember. The eight branches represent the eight nights.”
My mother grilled me every year -- as if I could ever forget. Who needs religious classes when you got mommy dearest, right?
 “In Hebrew the word “Hanukkah” means “dedication.” The name reminds us that this holiday commemorates the re-dedication of the Temple in Jerusalem after the Jewish victory over the Syrian-Greeks in 165 B.C.E. The Syrian-Greeks had seized the Jewish temple and dedicated it to the worship of the god Zeus. The Jewish people resisted being forced to worship a false god and give up what it meant to be Jewish. If anyone practiced Judaism they would be given the death penalty. So Jewish rebels, the Maccabees, retook the temple to “purify” it by burning ritual oil in the Temple for eight days. They only had a small amount of oil which could only really last for only one day but surprisingly it lasted eight days so we now we celebrate that miracle. And because of this, the menorah in synagogues must always be lit; it must always have an eternal flame. You’re better than any religious school.”
 Mom chuckled.
 “The one candle that’s higher than the rest is called the Shamash, or helper candle, and that’s the candle you use to light the others.“
 My mom looked impressed that I actually remembered everything.
 “We have to light the candles right after sunset. If they’re late we’ll have to do it without them.” I told her hoping that we wouldn’t have to celebrate Hanukkah with strangers.
 “They won’t be late. I don’t know if John has ever taken part in Hanukah before.”
 “He’s not Jewish?”
 “No he’s not Jewish, but you should have seen his face when I asked him to celebrate with us. He was practically beaming. The poor man must be so lonely. It’s a shame his wife died. He’s such a good man. And besides, dear, we’re reform Jewish. If we were orthodox dating a goy (non-Jew) couldn’t be done.”
 My mother was so happy at sharing a tradition with a man she barely knew. Maybe my mom was as lonely as this John man. Maybe they could make each other happy. She was totally head over heels for the guy even though he didn’t see her an awful lot every month. This John character kept leaving to go off on “jobs.”
 Hello! Red flag right there, mom! He’s probably in the mob or a cheat. I mean how else could you explain the long absences? Maybe he even had another family somewhere. But I wouldn’t do anything until she came to the same conclusion. I’d play nice and get to know him until then.
 A ring at the door signaled their arrival. My mom tidied up her appearance, fixing her hair and her makeup. Mom opened the door beaming at John. I stood behind her my face not giving anything away. John smiled at me as he extended his hand to me.
 “You must be Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
 “It’s nice to meet you, too, John,” I answered back somewhat sweetly.
 He had a firm handshake and a very friendly maybe too friendly smile. There was movement behind him and my eyes darted to behind his back. John introduced me to his sons, Sam and Dean. One was very shy and small but sweet. He shook my hand rather nervously might I add. The other boy was older and taller and he just winked at me. I shivered at the feeling, excitement coursing through my 18-year-old body. He spelled danger. And for me, a girl who never left the small town I grew up in or got into any trouble, this boy spelled a different, more fun kind of life. That wink spoke volumes to me.
 I haven’t even kissed a guy yet much less made out with one. Dean looked very experienced to me. I gulped nervously in his presence. Dean noticed and smirked back at me. Self-righteous prick. He was infuriating and sexy all at the same time. I never liked any of the boys in school. Then again boys like Dean never attended my school.
 Mom brought out the menorah and placed it on the table along with the kosher candles. Dean and Sam were intrigued to see what was going to happen. Dean of course took this moment to get closer to me this time his eyes roving up and down my figure. I rolled my eyes at him. This boy had only one thing on the brain. He was hot yeah but come on a girl needs more than just hotness. Or does she?
 Mother and I placed the candles in their respective places in the menorah. Mom used the match to light the Shamash, the candle in the middle first. I then took that candle and lit the one next to it before placing it back in the middle. My mom recited the blessings as a way to pay respect to God and our Jewish ancestors.
 “Adonai , shehekheyanu, v’kiyamanu vehegianu lazman hazeh.”
 You and your mother both said, “Amen” at the same time. Your mother smiled at you before addressing the guests at the table motioning everyone to sit down and eat.
 I could feel his eyes on me the entire dinner. To make matters worse my mom talked about me. I hate being the center of attention. I know it’s normal for moms to want to brag about their kids but with them? Ugh. At the mention of stellar grades, all eyes were on me. I looked down at the floor, blushing profusely.
 Sam perked up at the mention of good grades. He started engaging me in conversation about literature and homework. I went from being shy to outgoing in a couple of minutes. This Sam boy made me feel comfortable. I found out he wrote stories and so did I. He told me he would make sure to bring some of his next time when he saw me. I in turn promised to hand him some of mine. I was so excited to show someone my stories and read his. You can find out a lot about a person through what they choose to write about.
 Dean didn’t miss the exchange between his brother and me. He was making grumbly sounds throughout. I just chose to ignore his rather puerile behavior. He was probably grumpy that his brother was not only talking to me but responsible for my smile.
 As if that’s my fault. Dean got really moody and quiet, picking at the food on his plate. I liked Dean, I really did. I just bonded intellectually with Sam -- no biggie.
 I tried to engage Dean in talk about books or other things. I didn’t find anything in common with him, but I wanted to. I couldn’t explain it but I felt drawn to him like a magnet.
 “Thank you, John, for coming during the holidays. It’s nice to celebrate with more than just the two of us.”
 “It’s been awhile since I celebrated the holidays myself and I’m glad my boys can get some culture in.”
 Mom smiled at John before turning to me, handing me a present. I smiled at her. Dean raised his eyebrow at me.
 “We get one of these everyday.”
 Blushing I reached out to quickly grab the gift. I felt awkward opening it in front of everyone, but my mom’s warm smile egged me on.
 “Wait, you get eight days worth of presents? Dad, can we be Jewish?”
 “Dean!” John said forcefully in a hushed voice.
 I stuck out my tongue at Dean. He in turn rolled his eyes. On top of the present I got delicious little chocolates called gelt that looked like coins wrapped in a gold foil. The main present was THE game I wanted for my Playstation 4. Sam’s eyes went wide when he saw that. Dean groaned. They left soon after that, John saying that his boys needed some sleep.
 Day 2
 The second they came, mom ran to hug John and grab the menorah. Mom placed the candles in the menorah from right to left and then lit the shamesh, the candle in the middle. I then lifted the shamesh out of the menorah and lit one candle before passing the shamesh to Dean who lit another candle. Mom showed Dean where the shamesh belonged on the menorah.
 I started to blush at the intense stare he was giving me. Mother closed her eyes and started chanting.
 “Baruch Atah adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha’olam, asher kidshanu b’mitzvitav v’tzivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukah. Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha’olam, she’asah nisim l’avoteinu, b’yamim haheim bazman hazeh.”
 Everyone said, “Amen.”
 We all smiled and took our respective seats at the table. The more I talked with Sam, the more Dean slumped in his seat across from me. Sam and I just had so many things in common. I had no idea why Dean was being so dramatic. I didn’t like his brother like that. Sam was cute but I wanted Dean.
 “Y/N. Could you pass me the…”
 “The potato latkes? Sure Dean.”
Dean nodded, “Yeah, those.”
 “They’re really good, right?”
 “Man, I could eat these every day.” Dean confessed.
 “Wait till you try my mom’s homemade cherry blintzes. They are out of this world.”
 Dean’s face lit up at the talk of food. It was then that I learned the way to his heart. Thankfully, my mom had taught me how to cook.
 I fell into an easy conversation again with Sam but took quick glances at Dean who always smiled back at me.
 After dinner was finished, I opened my present and found another PlayStation game. This time Dean didn’t groan. Instead he watched my face light up and he smiled. He wanted to stay and talk to me but his father insisted they leave. You gave Dean half of your chocolate gelt, 5 pieces to be exact.
 “For good luck,” I told him.
 He slipped one into his mouth closing his eyes as the taste.
 “This is delicious.”
 Dean couldn’t stop smiling as he waved good-bye to me.
  Day 3
 John didn’t come today. He said he had to take the boys a few towns over to their aunt who had just given birth. Of course, I understood and my mom and I were happy for the new baby in their family. But I missed Dean. It wasn’t the same without him. I barely knew him and I missed him already.
 I lit the menorah adding another candle. I looked at the candles seeing just candles. When Dean was there, they looked like amazing lights. They made his face sparkle almost. He seemed so fascinated by the whole ritual. I was swept up in how he saw it.
 I sat there with my mom talking about school, nothing important but she noticed I was a bit apathetic. I didn’t smile like I did when Dean was there.
 I ate my chocolate by myself opening my present and smiling. It was the DVD of a movie I was dying to see. I was overjoyed and ran to my room to watch it, forgetting about Dean for the moment.
 Day 4
 I literally ran home from school smiling, only to find two place settings on the dining room table and not five. No Dean tonight, either.
 I went through the motions again lighting another candle and saying the prayer. Hannukah wasn’t as much fun without Dean.
 I was starting to get worried that maybe John had really left town not just away on a visit. He said he would be back by now. He called mom when we were having dinner and assured her that the boys would be there the next day. He sounded sure on the phone so I chose to believe it, looking forward to the possibility of seeing Dean.
 The present I got was a gorgeous silk scarf, the kind my mother said I had to be older to wear. I guess I was old enough.
 “I see the way you face lights up when he’s here. I see the way he looks at you. As much as I hate it, my baby girl is growing up.  And older girls need nice scarves, grown-up scarves. Dean is a fine boy to pick by the way.”
 I blushed and looked down at the ground. Mom smiled and kissed my forehead. I fall asleep with a smile on my face knowing that tomorrow Dean would be there.
 Day 5
 The second the door opened I looked over at Dean. He looked exhausted and he had a cut on his cheek. He was wearing long sleeves but he kept itching his arm. I glanced down when he lifted it up a bit to scratch noticing a deep cut. He followed my gaze and covered up his arm quickly. His father glared at him, which made Dean shrink. John then looked my way but I ignored the patriarch and instead hugged Dean. He was surprised by my actions before he hugged me back slowly, tentatively as if I’d run away. After a few seconds he smiled and sighed into my arms. I stepped back and looked sheepishly at him. He winked at me and whispered in my ear before walking into my apartment, “I’m fine, honey. It’s just a cut.”
He looked me up and down and I did the same.
 The two of us didn’t notice what our parents were doing or saying. We were in our own world. Dean only noticed that they were holding hands so he reached out to hold mine smiling at me. Sam cleared his throat feeling awkward. Dean tried to withdraw his hand not wanting to make his brother feel awkward but I grabbed onto his hand and wouldn’t let go. I turned to Sam and handed him one of my stories.
 “Oh man I’m so sorry I--.”
“No need to apologize, Sam. You’ll bring them when you can. I’d love to know what you think of my story. I really hope you like it.”
 “I would be happy to read it. Thanks.”
 I nodded at Sam who suddenly seemed to be more comfortable in the room. Dean smiled at me noticing the change in his brother.
 Mom lit the shamesh and you and Dean were tasked with lighting the rest of the candles. You divided up the task moving from left to right. Mom said the prayer, which always ended in a unison, “Amen.”
 The two boys ate almost all the food on the table. I stared at them confused. Didn’t their father feed them? I mean mom was a great cook but really?
 As I did every time, I gave half of my chocolate to Dean. He shook his head but I placed it in his palm and closed his fingers around it.
 “I’m Jewish, Dean. This is my thing. I get Hanukah gelt every year. There are 10 pieces here. Share it with me. Your family never gets them. Enjoy it.”
 Sam raised his eyebrows at me about to say something but Dean made a face and Sam backed away. He looked away sheepishly. Dean looked down at the chocolate in his hand and gave Sam two of his pieces. Sam’s face light up, his fingers anxiously ripping off the gold fold and putting them both into his mouth. His eyes grew wide tasting how delicious they were.
 I opened my present to find one of your favorite books, The Girl Who Owned the City.
 “You like books?”
 I looked over at Dean confused by his comment. So he doesn’t like books? Who doesn’t like books, I wondered. “This isn’t just any book Dean. This is a book about a virus that wipes out all the adults leaving children to run the world. It’s a feminist apocalypse sci-fi book. You should read it. You might like it.”
 “I’m not too big on horror or apocalyptic worlds. This world is scary enough.”
 I frown at his comment. That’s a bit dark for a 19-year-old to say. What kinds of things had he seen? Before I can ask what he meant, his father suddenly pushes Dean out of the door. I put the offhanded comment out of my mind not thinking anymore about it.
 Day 6
 We lit the menorah together before mom said the prayer.
 Dean’s eyes are on me during the whole dinner, completely distracting me and making me feel flustered. I didn’t notice the conversation John was having with my mother or how much closer they’d gotten. I do hear her laugh and it’s been so long since she even smiled.
 When I open my present I see it’s another video game I really wanted. I’m so happy and beg mom to let them stay over. Smiling she looked over at John silently begging him to say yes.
 When John nodded, the boys run up the stairs to my bedroom. I ran close behind them. I put the game in and immediately searched for multiplayer options. I handed Dean a black controller. He glanced at me like I was crazy.
 “You’re playing with us, Dean. Basically kick the bad guys asses.”
 “Oh honey, I can definitely do that. I have training in that.”
 Sam turns around and glares at his brother. Dean just shrugs. I watched the exchange completely confused.
 Reaching over Dean’s lap I place my hand on his controller. “You press this for a punch, this for a kick. This button is for a combo and this is to block.”
 Dean’s eyes glazed over at all the different buttons but once we started playing he got the hang of it, He cheered and groaned along with us. We were having so much fun we didn’t hear footsteps behind us. Mom told me that she found John just watching us. Creepy much? Mom joined in and they both watched us play games and smile. Even creepier. Thanks for telling me, mom. She even said, “When you’re a grown-up you’ll understand.” Whatever that means.
 Day 7
 Dean came to dinner dressed very nicely. I blushed when I saw him at the door. I was very happy that I had chosen a lace dress to wear.
 “I love a girl in lace,” Dean said suggestively.
 “And look at you. No more plaid lumberjack shirts but instead a leather coat and nice pants. You clean up nice, Winchester.”
 Dean blushed profusely and Sam laughed. Dean elbowed him to be quiet.
 Dean helped me light the menorah and even tried to pronounce the Hebrew words mom said.
 The second we sat down, Sam got my attention. He had a big smile on his face and a bunch of papers in his hands.
 “I just wanted to say that I love your stories, Y/N.”
 “Really?” you inquired, your eyes as wide as saucers.
 “Yeah they’re super creative. I brought mine this time.”
 “And I brought another story,” you added.
 “Awesome. I can’t wait to read it, Y/N.”
 “Same here, Sam.”
 The rest of the conversation with Sammy was about his stories. No one had ever taken an interest in your writing. I mean your mom did but she was your mom. That didn’t count. This was a boy taking an interest in you. I talked about the deeper themes in my stories and asked him about the themes in his writing.
 Dean didn’t feel jealous that I was talking to Sam. No moaning or growling from Dean’s side of the table. He simply beamed at me, happy and amazed that I could fit so well into his life.
 I watched him carefully after all the cryptic things he’d said in recent days. There was sadness in his eyes that night. I always thought it weird how I could read Dean so well. If soul mates existed maybe that would explain it. I don’t know how but I could feel guilt wafting off him in waves.
 This time I opened my small bag of gelt up and let Dean take as much as he wanted. Mom gave me my present, which I then shook trying to figure out what it was. It made a soft clicking sound.
 “A CD?”
 Mom shrugged.
 I tore open the wrapping paper and saw it was the album, Back in Black from AC/DC.
 “You love AC/DC?” Dean inquired.
 “Who doesn’t like classic rock?”
 “I’ve been trying to get Sam to enjoy more classic rock.”
 “I’d enjoy it more if you didn’t listen to it on repeat all the time.”
 Dean rolled his eyes.
 “Let’s listen to it upstairs?”
 I quickly nodded running up the stairs after him.
 “Door open kids.” Mom called out.
 “Yeah, Mom.”
 Sam took the hint and stayed downstairs. Glancing back, I saw him starting on his homework.
 The second that we got into my room I put on the album. I turned towards Dean. I was nervous so I closed my eyes and just listened to the music, letting it guide my movements. I danced in front of him occasionally opening my eyes to see Dean staring at me hungrily. He slowly walked me backwards into the wall. He put his hands on either side of my head as he looked down at me. I gulped trying to avoid eye contact. I was way too nervous for that so I stared at his chest. He carefully moved one of his hands from the wall to guide my chin up making eye contact with me.
 “Why so nervous, doll?”
 “I’ve never kissed a boy?”
 “Never? How is that possible? I would have thought boys would jump at the chance to kiss you.”
 “What school do you go to again?”
Dean chuckled. His hand slowly moved to my cheek as he caressed it. I closed my eyes, leaning into his touch.
 “That’s it, baby. Relax. I got you.”
 With my eyes still closed, I felt his face get closer and closer to mine, his forehead grazing mine. I felt his lips on my lips. Dean kissed me gently, carefully, almost reverently. He slowly moved his tongue inside my mouth cautiously playing with my tongue. My hands moved to his hair to hold him there. He took that as a sign and deepened the kiss, moving his tongue more inside my mouth. When we needed air he slowly disconnected his lips from mine. His thumb caressed my cheek. He stared into my eyes and I saw so much feeling there. He nibbled my bottom lip and my eyes fluttered closed.
 Dean and I heard a creak from the floorboards next to us. I saw him reaching into his pants to get what looked like a weapon out. Why does he have a weapon? His father cleared his throat and Dean’s hands fell suddenly to his side.
 “We gotta go, Dean.”
 Dean doesn’t argue with his father. I shivered silently at the harsh tone in which John speaks to his son. Before Dean leaves he kisses my forehead and smiles so mournfully. With several lingering glances he walked down the stairs away from me. John nodded at me and leaves quietly with the boys. I collapsed on the bed still high from that amazing kiss. If only John hadn’t interrupted us.
 Day 8
 Dean came over as usual. But everyone seemed uneasy, anxious even; their gaze never on me or my mother for too long.
 I lit the last candles for Hanukkah. Me, Dean, and mom said the Hebrew prayer.
 Dean looked at me sadly. I had no idea what was going on but with each passing second, I felt like I was dying. I could feel Dean pulling away. It was getting harder to breath.
 Moments later John shattered my world by saying that they had to move. I blinked continuously trying to blink away my tears, which Dean noticed. He looked more pained than before.
 The first decent guy to come along and make me feel amazing and then he has to leave? How cruel was fate?
 At that exact moment, the windows of my home were broken by some sort of creature. The creature was snarling at me. Mom ran away screaming. I stood my ground and started throwing things at it. Then I noticed another monster. The monster started barreling towards me. Dean acted fast tackling it to the ground. He gave the monster a hard kick making its head land painfully on the coffee table. Dean got up quickly grabbing you and ushering you into the kitchen.
 “We need silver. It’s a werewolf.”
 I didn’t ask any questions, I was beyond frightened and his voice commanded authority. I grabbed all the utensils and ran out into the living room with Dean. He threw two knives to Sam and John. I in turn threw a bunch of stuff at the monster, which distracted it. I clutched my knife focusing every ounce of strength I had into killing this werewolf. I thought about all the kids that teased me, all the bad stuff that happened, and channeled that anger. I pushed it backwards against the wall. I maneuvered under its claws and jammed the knife into its heart. It tried to scratch me as it was dying but I jumped high and rolled away from it.
 Everyone stared at me. John and Sam had already killed the other werewolf. Mom ran to me hugging and kissing me. The boys kept staring at me. I withdrew from my mother and walked over to Dean.
 “What the hell was that?” I nearly screamed at him.
 “I could ask you the same thing,” Dean answered back.
 “I take self defense classes, one. Two we lived in a very dangerous neighborhood when I grew up. So I learned how to fight at an early age. And three, I’m awesome. Thanks for noticing.”
 “Yes, you really are.” Dean said awestruck.
 Dean didn’t hesitate and grabbed the back of my head cramming his lips on mine. This wasn’t like the kiss before. This was passionate and rough. This was to show emotion, not to comfort a scared girl. I was no longer the scared, innocent, wide-eyes girl I was before. I grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him back just as passionately. My eyes fluttered open when his lips left mine.
 Dean practically growled.
 “I’m not leaving Y/N behind, dad. You saw what she did. I’m telling her and I’m not letting you out of my sight.” He said the last part to me holding my hand.
 John was about to say something when I spoke up.
 “Tell me what?”
 “Dean!” John warned.
 Ignoring his father Dean spilled the beans. “We hunt monsters. That was a werewolf. Our mom died from a monster, a demon actually and we as a family hunt monsters. We keep the world safe. And we have to leave. There’s a town two hours away. Five people have already died. It’s definitely a monster. Possibly a ghost. We can’t stay here. When dad said we were visiting our aunt that gave birth? That was a lie. We were on a ghoul hunt that took longer than anticipated.”
 “Your family hunts monsters?” It made sense. His cryptic comments; the sadness, the cuts, the gun, everything made sense now.
 “Yeah I know that’s--.”
 “Hunting monsters, saving people the family business…that’s awesome.”
 Dean was shocked.
 “And you want me to come?”
 “Yes Y/N I really do.”
 “Give me a moment. One moment.”
 I nibbled Dean’s lower lip before smiling back at him. I turn to my mom walking with her into the kitchen. She hugged me handing me a large book bag.
 “I heard everything honey. I may not like it but I know I have to let you go. You’re an adult now you can make you own decisions. I know how you feel about Dean and the way you fought. That was incredible. You weren’t afraid -- you acted decisively. I knew in that moment you would be leaving and I packed your favorite things. You are meant to go with them and save the world. John was never meant to be mine. I was meant to meet him so you could meet your beshert, the one you are fated to love, Dean. I’m terrified. It’s so dangerous but if monsters really do exist, someone has to protect people like me. You were meant for this Y/N. Go with them and know I love you always. You better call me regularly.”
 I cried as I held onto my mom. I never thought she would be so understanding. She was right, though, I belonged with the Winchesters.
 Dean was trying to stall. His father didn’t want to take me with them and they were furiously arguing. I could hear them all the way in the kitchen.
 I threw my book bag in the backseat and turned to Dean. “Thanks for stalling, Dean. Mr. Winchester, I know I’m only 18 but I choose this life and I don’t need a lecture from anyone. I am technically an adult. I planned on taking a few years off before going to college anyway. Get some life experience. I could have died from the Werewolf that must have followed you. I could have run away like my mom did and waited for you guys to swoop in, but I didn’t. We all could have died. Your sons included. But what happened? I saved everyone. And if you don’t take me, I’ll give Dean my number and go out on my own hunting monsters. Your choice.”
 “I can’t be responsible for you.”
 “You’re not, John. I’m responsible for me. I choose this life. This is my choice, come what may.”
 “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
 “So what? I go back to my normal life? Forget about Dean? Forget about how I feel? I can’t do that. You can’t ask me to do that. I finally find someone I care about and you rip us apart? I finally feel like I am meant to be somewhere and you tell me to go back to a sheltered life? Too late, Mr. Winchester. I belong here, I know how to fight and I promise you that I am making this choice. I don’t want to live an ordinary safe live and have a nine-to-five job. I want more. I want to be a hero like Dean.”
John groans, closing his eyes momentarily. When he opens them, they bore into you. It feels like he’s looking into your soul or something.
 I pointed to the house.
 “Go inside and speak with my mom, please. She has the right to send me with you. Please talk to her.”
 Dean grabbed his father’s arm pleading with him. “Y/N could do research. Only research. No hunting. She stays back. I will make sure of that. You, me, and Sammy go hunting.”
 I nodded agreeing with Dean. I would do anything to go with them.
 John looked between the two of us and then walked over to the house. John was in the kitchen for an hour arguing with mom while Dean and I were making out in the backseat of the car. Sam sat as far away from us as possible.
 By the time John came back, he sighed heavily looking back at the two of you. You stopped mid kiss looking back at him.
 “Well, looks like you’re an honorary Winchester Y/N. Call me John.”
 “Well John, my mom’s one stubborn lady when she decides something and so am I.”
 “I can see that.”
 “But you’re doing research. Dean will train you but no hunting until you can outsmart him and he’s been hunting since he was a child so that’s a tall order. No arguments or I’ll turn this car around. “
 “You’ll receive no arguments from me.”
 And just like I sped off to my new life as a hunter finally feeling like I belonged.
 Tagging
Forevers: @purgatoan, @killerofthesouth, @charliebradbury1104, @chaos-and-the-calm67, @chelsea072498, @everday-supernatural-af, @kalliravennee, @toogardenenthusiast, @winchesterprincessbride, @one-shots-supernatural, @take-me-tonirvana, @hellsmother, @ellen-reincarnated1967, @faegal04, @deals-with-demons, @mamaredd123, @atc74, @hamartiamacguffin
Dean Folks from my list: @ellen-reincarnated1967, @chaos-and-the-calm67, @buckymetallicstump, @faith-in-dean, @bennyyh, @ruprecht0420 @supernatural-jackles, @jesspfly, @webcricket
@aprofoundbondwithdean, @thing-you-do-with-that-thing, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @dr-dean, @nichelle-my-belle, @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid, @thegreatficmaster, @salvachester, @blushingsamgirl, @bkwrm523, @whispersandwhiskerburn, @lipstickandwhiskey, @impala-dreamer, @samsgoddess, @frenchybell, @scorpiongirl1, @for-the-love-of-dean, @cici0507, @fiveleaf, @deansleather, @curliesallovertheplace, @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname, @waywardjoy, @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious, @kayteonline, @supernatural-jackles, @idreamofhazel, @wevegotworktodo, @ilovedean-spn2 , @quiddy-writes, @wi-deangirl77, @deantbh, @mysaintsasinner, @chelsea-winchester, @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki, @fandommaniacx, @teamfreewillimagines, @deanwinchesterforpromqueen, @castieltrash1, @supernaturallyobsessed, @memariana91, @writingbeautifulmen, @captain-princess-rose, @plaidstiel-wormstache, @idreamofhazel, @revwinchester, @supermoonpanda, @ageekchiclife, @i-dont-know-how-to-write, @vintagevalentinexx, @ohwritever, @ruinedbydestiel, @winchester-writes, @mysupernaturalfics, @thinkwritexpress, @sammit-janet @bowtiesandapplepie, @itsemmyb, @ezauraemmaline, @matteson-crazed, @castielspahdehrah, @charliesbackbitches, @crzcorgi, @gryffindorable713, @deerlululucy, @walkingencyclopediaoffandom, @MrsJohnSmith, @manawhaat, @growleytria, @thegleegeneration, @samtomydeanwinchester, @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki, @i-never-said-a-pilot, @thewinchestielboys, @supermoonpanda, @sis-tafics, @amaranthinecastiel, @kittenofdoomage, @samanddeanwinchester67, @prettyxwickedxthings, @ferferelli @lilyoflothlorien, @myfand0msandm0re, @olitzisbae, @iridianuniverse, @the-morning-star-falls,  @shortandlongstories, @strange-inhumanity, @ackleslaugh @noisilyyoungpuppy, @fangirling-instead-of-working, @eyes-of-a-disney-princess, @chrisatplay, @kayteonline, @spnsimpleman, @faith-in-dean, @gimmethepieandnoonegetshurt, @for-the-love-of-dean, @mamaimpala, @winchesterfiesta, @zanthiasplace, @sleep-silent-angel, @pada-ackles-reads, @thing-you-do-with-that-thing, @gadreelsforbiddenfruit, @trenchcoats-and-bees, @curliesallovertheplace, @jencharlan, @not-so-natural-spn, @skybinx-blog, @thebunkerismyhome, @feelmyroarrrr, @beachy2014, @fandom-book-nerd, @tia58, @@sams-little-toy, @sunriserose1023, @saving-things-hunting-family, @winchesterswoonathon, @jotink78, @lucifer-in-leather,  @babypieandwhiskey, @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave, @supernatural-jackles, @avasmommy224, @angelwingsandsupernaturalthings, @mysaintsasinner, @chelsea-winchester, @spn-fan-girl-173, @besslincoln-bruh, @wheresthekillswitch, @shelovesallthethings @maraisabellegrey, @notnaturalanahi
44 notes · View notes
gordonwilliamsweb · 5 years ago
Text
‘I feel alive’
In the fall of 2018, fourth-grader Naomi Gomez sat at a desk in Harbor Springs, Michigan, learning spelling, writing, multiplication and division.
What she never learned, and never wanted to, was how to live with cancer.
“It started in October, November of 2018,” said Naomi’s mom, Jessica Creary. “She complained of her ankles hurting, her knees hurting and being really tired. She was losing her appetite, but we thought maybe that was just a phase, that things weren’t tasting good to her.”
But Naomi’s weight kept dropping.
“We kept going back and forth to the pediatrician,” Jessica said. “They thought it was growing pains. But between November and December, Naomi dropped about 11 pounds. She was only 93 pounds to begin with.”
That’s more than a 10% drop, in a month, for a 9-year-old.
“Naomi has always been a really good eater,” Jessica said. “She’s never been heavy or overweight, just always a really healthy size, but the weight loss was pretty drastic.”
As with any person we see daily, the weight loss didn’t jump out to Jessica. When she looked at photos over those months, though, the trend revealed itself.
“It was so gradual,” she said. “At her age, she’s just starting to discover her independence and is starting to do things on her own. We thought maybe her aches and pains were her way to try to get out of school. Kids have been doing that since the beginning of time. I know I did.”
But as December snow fell, and Christmas neared, more symptoms surfaced.
“She started falling asleep in school,” Jessica said.
A former pediatrician-turned-school-counselor alerted the family.
“One teacher told me she was snoring,” Jessica said. “She wasn’t sleeping well at night. I didn’t know this at the time, but a couple of times I guess she woke up and went into my mom’s room because she wasn’t feeling well. My mom lives with us. My mom is an oncology nurse.”
Grandma suspected something was up with Naomi, but it seemed far-fetched. Impossible, really.
“My mom being a nurse went to the worst-case scenario, ‘What if she has cancer?’” Jessica said. “I said, ‘Mom, that’s because you’re a nurse. There’s no way.’ I had a completely different picture in my mind.”
Jessica set up family counseling sessions, thinking Naomi’s weight loss and lethargy may be pinned to something going on at school, or perhaps bullying.
‘My insides are shaking’
“One morning, I woke her up for school and she was crying,” Jessica said. “She said, ‘Mom, I feel like my insides are shaking.’ She related it to feeling like her bones were vibrating. I said, “If you’re not going to school, we’re going to the pediatrician.’”
The Northern Michigan pediatrician didn’t see anything amiss. But blood tests proved differently.
Just hours after the blood draw, the pediatrician called and told Jessica they sent the blood test results to the pediatric hematology and oncology clinic at Spectrum Health Helen DeVos Children’s Hospital.
Soon, the pediatrician called to tell her the hematology and oncology clinic wanted to see them the next day at 8 a.m.
“I was at a daycare looking at putting our son in a new daycare,” Jessica recalled. “I started crying. I called my husband (O.J. Creary). We drove down that night and stayed at the Renucci House. That night and the next morning are kind of a blur to me.”
Jessica expected a simple diagnosis.
“I thought maybe it was anemia or something else,” she said. “From the moment we got there, it was like they knew, but couldn’t tell us because it hadn’t been confirmed.”
The “blur” became a blinding reality, a nightmare no parent wants to live through. Following bone marrow tests, on Jan. 16, doctors diagnosed Naomi with B-cell acute lymphoblastic leukemia. The news shattered Jessica and O.J.
“I wasn’t expecting a cancer diagnosis,” Jessica said. “Before this, I had never had an encounter with someone who had fought through cancer. I never would have guessed.”
Social workers visited the family. Jessica left the room. And cried.
“The diagnosis was scary,” Jessica said. “But doctors were really great at putting things in layperson’s terms and making it easy to understand what was going on and what we would need to do to treat her.”
‘I didn’t really know what cancer was’
Naomi handled the news with courage and grace.
“My first reaction was, ‘Huh?'” Naomi said. “I didn’t really know what cancer was. I thought that meant I was going to die.”
Naomi remained strong.
“Still to this day, she’s never had a breakdown moment,” Jessica said. “She’s never looked at me and asked, ‘Why me?’ She’s super strong, like ‘that’s life, and life is moving on.'”
Hospital staff helped make Naomi as comfortable as possible.
“One of the nurses we had, Stephanie, she went way over and beyond what I have ever seen a nurse do,” Jessica said. “She sat with Naomi on her bed. She talked to her not like a sick child, but talked to her like a kid she was hanging out with. She said, ‘We’re going to be new buddies.’ It was a sigh of relief.”
Naomi spent 10 days in the hospital, receiving IV chemotherapy, with her mom and dad beside her.
She then received a longer-acting chemo that stays in the system about 10 days.
The family returned home on Jan. 25.
“They send you home feeling like, ‘OK, we got this, we’re going to follow this treatment and conquer this. Cancer who? We’re going to beat this.’ You don’t feel like this is something that’s going to be the end of her. They instilled nothing but hope, like no matter what happens, they’ve got our back through it all. We came home on a positive note.”
But the positive note soon turned to chaotic discord.
Surviving a stroke
Headaches, “pounding pain, like a hammer,” Naomi described.
At first, the family thought it may be residual chemotherapy effects. Then, she started vomiting.
“She’s complaining of this piercing headache,” Jessica said. “She’s on the sofa, grabbing her head. I took her to the emergency room in Charlevoix. It’s a blessing we did because Charlevoix is maybe two blocks from the airport.”
Blizzards and winter storms moved across the state, causing treacherous driving.
“We got her to the ER and she started having seizures,” Jessica said. “She was groaning and just staring. They rushed her in for a CT scan and that’s when we found out she had had a stroke.”
Doctors induced a coma, intubated her and in the most tense moments imaginable, attempted to take Naomi by Aero Med Spectrum Health to Helen DeVos Children’s Hospital.
“They were on the phone with ICU at DeVos,” Jessica said. “They couldn’t do the helicopter because of the weather so they did a small jet. The weather kept getting worse. As soon as we got to Grand Rapids, they decided she needs to be in a deep, deep sleep because she has a severe brain injury.”
A machine monitored Naomi’s brain activity, which had been reduced to little blips.
“They explained they had to do this to let the brain heal,” Jessica said. “They wanted to give her the best chance possible.”
An MRI confirmed a stroke. When a doctor explained what had happened to Naomi, he also shared the possibility she might not survive.
“I just fell to the floor,” Jessica said. “It’s a feeling you can’t describe. There aren’t the right words to describe the sensation that goes through your body when they tell you your child might not make it. It’s very scary, but I decided, no, I’m not going to back down until I know for a fact this is the end of the road.”
Because of the fragility of the situation, pediatric neurosurgeon M. Michael Bercu, MD, contacted Paul Mazaris, MD, a Spectrum Health Medical Group neurosurgeon who typically works on adults.
“He said, ‘We’re only going to try once, because it is a very fragile, delicate situation,” Jessica said. “He did an angio where they go up through your thigh to try to bust through the clot. He said, ‘We’re going to try, but we don’t know if it’s going to work.’”
A rock. A hard place. And there rested Naomi’s fate.
James Fahner, MD, division chief for pediatric hematology and oncology, said Naomi’s chances of survival were slim, but praised the collaboration between pediatric neurosurgery and adult interventional neurosurgery.
“We were not sure if she would live,” Dr. Fahner said.
Plummeting vital signs
“It was a lose-lose situation,” Jessica said. “It’s a pretty humbling experience when you see even the doctors have concern on their faces.”
After a four-hour surgery, finally, some hopeful news.
“He came back and said they got almost 80% of the clot and they were able to bust through to create blood flow,” Jessica said.
But the next day, Feb. 1, hope turned to fright once again. Naomi’s vitals plummeted. Her heart rate dangerously dropped into the 30s. Her blood pressure arced to 240/150 and her body temperature slumped to dangerous levels.
Staff rushed a portable MRI machine into the room. The scans showed a second bleed in the same area of the frontal left lobe.
“They ended up doing a craniotomy and removed about one-quarter of her skull,” Jessica said.
The family lived day-to-day. About a dozen doctors visited every morning. The activity brought comfort, somehow.
“I know it sounds weird, but there was never a moment where I felt alone,” Jessica said. “There was never a moment that I didn’t feel they didn’t care for my child as much as I do. It was pretty amazing.”
One nurse asked about Naomi’s favorite songs. While Jessica and O.J. grabbed something to eat, the nurse loaded a playlist for the young patient and sang to her.
Because of the brain injury, the room lights remained low. Music therapists softly played the guitar and sang. Naomi received CT scans every four hours.
“We had a fantastic medical team, but definitely could not have done it without our faith,” Jessica said. “The doctors, nurses and chaplain team prayed with us.”
On Feb. 6, doctors stopped the coma-inducing medications. Naomi remained in an ICU room until Feb. 15 and left the children’s hospital nine days later.
Difficult days didn’t end there. Doctors predicted she would need three months of therapy to learn to walk, talk and resume normal activities. Naomi rocked it out and finished therapy in three weeks, although her headaches continued. Light bothered her so much she stayed in a dark room with sunglasses on.
“It was a slow process when it came to speech, remembering words and remembering what she’s trying to say,” Jessica said. “There has been some damage done by the stroke. It took some memories from her.”
Naomi gets around with a walker, and maintains her positive attitude. She hopes to someday dance again.
‘I feel alive’
“From the time she could sit up, she has been a mover and a groover,” Jessica said. “She would move around like a ballerina whose been taking classes at Juilliard. Naomi is like an explosion of sunshine and everything that is good-natured in this world.”
In November, Dr. Bercu replaced the skull flap. A few days after Christmas, she underwent another MRI and planned to return to school.
Jessica said she and her family are grateful for the many friends, family members, co-workers and medical personnel who walked through the dark days with them, supporting them with love, light, food and supplies.
“Naomi is doing fantastic,” Jessica said. “She is pretty amazing. Naomi has to just smile at you once and you’re like, ‘Holy cow, this girl’s got it.’ She teaches me how to just rock life. It’s pretty awesome.”
Naomi said she’s feeling great.
“I feel alive, kind of like a ping-pong ball when it bounces across the table,” she said, giggling at her self-made simile.
Naomi has always seemed to be drawn to the medical field and her curiosity helped her endure her hospitalization and treatments.
“I think it was actually intriguing to her,” Jessica said. “She watches everything intently and asks questions—‘What is that for?’ and ‘Why do you do that?’ I think that I was weaker and had more moments of weakness than she has. She has been steady as a rock.”
When asked recently if she’s still interested in the medical field after all she’s been through, Naomi shouted an emphatic “Yes!”
She wants to become a medical examiner.
“I want to find out how people died,” Naomi said enthusiastically. “You know, solving crimes.”
Dr. Fahner said he’s impressed with Naomi’s outcome.
“She has worked very hard with her physical therapy and has made a dramatic recovery,” Dr. Fahner said. “She has a wonderful family support system who has been behind her every step of the way. We all feel very blessed to care for Naomi and to get to know her family. It was looking quite tragic for a while and it turned into a success story.”
‘I feel alive’ published first on https://nootropicspowdersupplier.tumblr.com/
0 notes
michellelinkous · 5 years ago
Text
‘I feel alive’
In the fall of 2018, fourth-grader Naomi Gomez sat at a desk in Harbor Springs, Michigan, learning spelling, writing, multiplication and division.
What she never learned, and never wanted to, was how to live with cancer.
“It started in October, November of 2018,” said Naomi’s mom, Jessica Creary. “She complained of her ankles hurting, her knees hurting and being really tired. She was losing her appetite, but we thought maybe that was just a phase, that things weren’t tasting good to her.”
But Naomi’s weight kept dropping.
“We kept going back and forth to the pediatrician,” Jessica said. “They thought it was growing pains. But between November and December, Naomi dropped about 11 pounds. She was only 93 pounds to begin with.”
That’s more than a 10% drop, in a month, for a 9-year-old.
“Naomi has always been a really good eater,” Jessica said. “She’s never been heavy or overweight, just always a really healthy size, but the weight loss was pretty drastic.”
As with any person we see daily, the weight loss didn’t jump out to Jessica. When she looked at photos over those months, though, the trend revealed itself.
“It was so gradual,” she said. “At her age, she’s just starting to discover her independence and is starting to do things on her own. We thought maybe her aches and pains were her way to try to get out of school. Kids have been doing that since the beginning of time. I know I did.”
But as December snow fell, and Christmas neared, more symptoms surfaced.
“She started falling asleep in school,” Jessica said.
A former pediatrician-turned-school-counselor alerted the family.
“One teacher told me she was snoring,” Jessica said. “She wasn’t sleeping well at night. I didn’t know this at the time, but a couple of times I guess she woke up and went into my mom’s room because she wasn’t feeling well. My mom lives with us. My mom is an oncology nurse.”
Grandma suspected something was up with Naomi, but it seemed far-fetched. Impossible, really.
“My mom being a nurse went to the worst-case scenario, ‘What if she has cancer?’” Jessica said. “I said, ‘Mom, that’s because you’re a nurse. There’s no way.’ I had a completely different picture in my mind.”
Jessica set up family counseling sessions, thinking Naomi’s weight loss and lethargy may be pinned to something going on at school, or perhaps bullying.
‘My insides are shaking’
“One morning, I woke her up for school and she was crying,” Jessica said. “She said, ‘Mom, I feel like my insides are shaking.’ She related it to feeling like her bones were vibrating. I said, “If you’re not going to school, we’re going to the pediatrician.’”
The Northern Michigan pediatrician didn’t see anything amiss. But blood tests proved differently.
Just hours after the blood draw, the pediatrician called and told Jessica they sent the blood test results to the pediatric hematology and oncology clinic at Spectrum Health Helen DeVos Children’s Hospital.
Soon, the pediatrician called to tell her the hematology and oncology clinic wanted to see them the next day at 8 a.m.
“I was at a daycare looking at putting our son in a new daycare,” Jessica recalled. “I started crying. I called my husband (O.J. Creary). We drove down that night and stayed at the Renucci House. That night and the next morning are kind of a blur to me.”
Jessica expected a simple diagnosis.
“I thought maybe it was anemia or something else,” she said. “From the moment we got there, it was like they knew, but couldn’t tell us because it hadn’t been confirmed.”
The “blur” became a blinding reality, a nightmare no parent wants to live through. Following bone marrow tests, on Jan. 16, doctors diagnosed Naomi with B-cell acute lymphoblastic leukemia. The news shattered Jessica and O.J.
“I wasn’t expecting a cancer diagnosis,” Jessica said. “Before this, I had never had an encounter with someone who had fought through cancer. I never would have guessed.”
Social workers visited the family. Jessica left the room. And cried.
“The diagnosis was scary,” Jessica said. “But doctors were really great at putting things in layperson’s terms and making it easy to understand what was going on and what we would need to do to treat her.”
‘I didn’t really know what cancer was’
Naomi handled the news with courage and grace.
“My first reaction was, ‘Huh?'” Naomi said. “I didn’t really know what cancer was. I thought that meant I was going to die.”
Naomi remained strong.
“Still to this day, she’s never had a breakdown moment,” Jessica said. “She’s never looked at me and asked, ‘Why me?’ She’s super strong, like ‘that’s life, and life is moving on.'”
Hospital staff helped make Naomi as comfortable as possible.
“One of the nurses we had, Stephanie, she went way over and beyond what I have ever seen a nurse do,” Jessica said. “She sat with Naomi on her bed. She talked to her not like a sick child, but talked to her like a kid she was hanging out with. She said, ‘We’re going to be new buddies.’ It was a sigh of relief.”
Naomi spent 10 days in the hospital, receiving IV chemotherapy, with her mom and dad beside her.
She then received a longer-acting chemo that stays in the system about 10 days.
The family returned home on Jan. 25.
“They send you home feeling like, ‘OK, we got this, we’re going to follow this treatment and conquer this. Cancer who? We’re going to beat this.’ You don’t feel like this is something that’s going to be the end of her. They instilled nothing but hope, like no matter what happens, they’ve got our back through it all. We came home on a positive note.”
But the positive note soon turned to chaotic discord.
Surviving a stroke
Headaches, “pounding pain, like a hammer,” Naomi described.
At first, the family thought it may be residual chemotherapy effects. Then, she started vomiting.
“She’s complaining of this piercing headache,” Jessica said. “She’s on the sofa, grabbing her head. I took her to the emergency room in Charlevoix. It’s a blessing we did because Charlevoix is maybe two blocks from the airport.”
Blizzards and winter storms moved across the state, causing treacherous driving.
“We got her to the ER and she started having seizures,” Jessica said. “She was groaning and just staring. They rushed her in for a CT scan and that’s when we found out she had had a stroke.”
Doctors induced a coma, intubated her and in the most tense moments imaginable, attempted to take Naomi by Aero Med Spectrum Health to Helen DeVos Children’s Hospital.
“They were on the phone with ICU at DeVos,” Jessica said. “They couldn’t do the helicopter because of the weather so they did a small jet. The weather kept getting worse. As soon as we got to Grand Rapids, they decided she needs to be in a deep, deep sleep because she has a severe brain injury.”
A machine monitored Naomi’s brain activity, which had been reduced to little blips.
“They explained they had to do this to let the brain heal,” Jessica said. “They wanted to give her the best chance possible.”
An MRI confirmed a stroke. When a doctor explained what had happened to Naomi, he also shared the possibility she might not survive.
“I just fell to the floor,” Jessica said. “It’s a feeling you can’t describe. There aren’t the right words to describe the sensation that goes through your body when they tell you your child might not make it. It’s very scary, but I decided, no, I’m not going to back down until I know for a fact this is the end of the road.”
Because of the fragility of the situation, pediatric neurosurgeon M. Michael Bercu, MD, contacted Paul Mazaris, MD, a Spectrum Health Medical Group neurosurgeon who typically works on adults.
“He said, ‘We’re only going to try once, because it is a very fragile, delicate situation,” Jessica said. “He did an angio where they go up through your thigh to try to bust through the clot. He said, ‘We’re going to try, but we don’t know if it’s going to work.’”
A rock. A hard place. And there rested Naomi’s fate.
James Fahner, MD, division chief for pediatric hematology and oncology, said Naomi’s chances of survival were slim, but praised the collaboration between pediatric neurosurgery and adult interventional neurosurgery.
“We were not sure if she would live,” Dr. Fahner said.
Plummeting vital signs
“It was a lose-lose situation,” Jessica said. “It’s a pretty humbling experience when you see even the doctors have concern on their faces.”
After a four-hour surgery, finally, some hopeful news.
“He came back and said they got almost 80% of the clot and they were able to bust through to create blood flow,” Jessica said.
But the next day, Feb. 1, hope turned to fright once again. Naomi’s vitals plummeted. Her heart rate dangerously dropped into the 30s. Her blood pressure arced to 240/150 and her body temperature slumped to dangerous levels.
Staff rushed a portable MRI machine into the room. The scans showed a second bleed in the same area of the frontal left lobe.
“They ended up doing a craniotomy and removed about one-quarter of her skull,” Jessica said.
The family lived day-to-day. About a dozen doctors visited every morning. The activity brought comfort, somehow.
“I know it sounds weird, but there was never a moment where I felt alone,” Jessica said. “There was never a moment that I didn’t feel they didn’t care for my child as much as I do. It was pretty amazing.”
One nurse asked about Naomi’s favorite songs. While Jessica and O.J. grabbed something to eat, the nurse loaded a playlist for the young patient and sang to her.
Because of the brain injury, the room lights remained low. Music therapists softly played the guitar and sang. Naomi received CT scans every four hours.
“We had a fantastic medical team, but definitely could not have done it without our faith,” Jessica said. “The doctors, nurses and chaplain team prayed with us.”
On Feb. 6, doctors stopped the coma-inducing medications. Naomi remained in an ICU room until Feb. 15 and left the children’s hospital nine days later.
Difficult days didn’t end there. Doctors predicted she would need three months of therapy to learn to walk, talk and resume normal activities. Naomi rocked it out and finished therapy in three weeks, although her headaches continued. Light bothered her so much she stayed in a dark room with sunglasses on.
“It was a slow process when it came to speech, remembering words and remembering what she’s trying to say,” Jessica said. “There has been some damage done by the stroke. It took some memories from her.”
Naomi gets around with a walker, and maintains her positive attitude. She hopes to someday dance again.
‘I feel alive’
“From the time she could sit up, she has been a mover and a groover,” Jessica said. “She would move around like a ballerina whose been taking classes at Juilliard. Naomi is like an explosion of sunshine and everything that is good-natured in this world.”
In November, Dr. Bercu replaced the skull flap. A few days after Christmas, she underwent another MRI and planned to return to school.
Jessica said she and her family are grateful for the many friends, family members, co-workers and medical personnel who walked through the dark days with them, supporting them with love, light, food and supplies.
“Naomi is doing fantastic,” Jessica said. “She is pretty amazing. Naomi has to just smile at you once and you’re like, ‘Holy cow, this girl’s got it.’ She teaches me how to just rock life. It’s pretty awesome.”
Naomi said she’s feeling great.
“I feel alive, kind of like a ping-pong ball when it bounces across the table,” she said, giggling at her self-made simile.
Naomi has always seemed to be drawn to the medical field and her curiosity helped her endure her hospitalization and treatments.
“I think it was actually intriguing to her,” Jessica said. “She watches everything intently and asks questions—‘What is that for?’ and ‘Why do you do that?’ I think that I was weaker and had more moments of weakness than she has. She has been steady as a rock.”
When asked recently if she’s still interested in the medical field after all she’s been through, Naomi shouted an emphatic “Yes!”
She wants to become a medical examiner.
“I want to find out how people died,” Naomi said enthusiastically. “You know, solving crimes.”
Dr. Fahner said he’s impressed with Naomi’s outcome.
“She has worked very hard with her physical therapy and has made a dramatic recovery,” Dr. Fahner said. “She has a wonderful family support system who has been behind her every step of the way. We all feel very blessed to care for Naomi and to get to know her family. It was looking quite tragic for a while and it turned into a success story.”
‘I feel alive’ published first on https://smartdrinkingweb.tumblr.com/
0 notes
duluoz2 · 7 years ago
Text
Musicis historia mea, Pt. 1: Better Dead than Deadhead?
There was a time when I wouldn’t listen to the Grateful Dead. It wasn’t that I refused to listen to them; I just couldn’t be bothered. I actually once tried to listen to “American Beauty,” a copy of which I had received as a gift (a relative worked for Sony and had access to “original master recordings” and would give them to my brother and me; remember those?). I skipped to “Truckin’” and never got beyond that. They just didn’t grab me. I was never a hater, like many were and still are, but I did chuckle at the slogan “I’ll be grateful when they’re dead!” I was mainly an alt/punk fan, though I did have an appreciation for what would come to be called “classic rock,” the Doors, Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, the Paul Butterfield Blues Band, and others. But I never got the Dead. When I was in college, going to see them became all the rage. But, tempted as I was to see what the hoopla was all about, I never succumbed. The only intriguing thing about the Dead was their fans. I’m not talking about the waste cases, stale hippies, or trendy college kids who liked them because it was the thing to do; I mean people who took a scientific approach to the band. Some guys I knew in college were Deadheads, before it was trendy. They would talk about tape trading, about mushroom trips that throbbed in time to the music, about the different versions of songs and how each concert had its own certain, pardon the word, vibe. These guys weren’t stale hippies or waste cases, and they certainly weren’t trendies; they were fans, serious fans. The way they described the whole Dead experience always came back to the music. It was the music that attracted them, what hooked them, and what made them so “deadicated.” But I still didn’t get it.
Fast forward many years; a colleague from the college where I teach asked me to sit in with his band. They were a talented, experienced outfit, and they needed me to fill in for some gigs in the future. I was intrigued, but unsure. You see, the bulk of their repertoire consisted of Grateful Dead songs. Sure, I told them, I’d sit in, but I wasn’t too into the Dead. I’d acquire some CD’s and give a listen and we’d see if it all worked out. That’s where it all started
My cousin Marc worked for Rhino Records, the label which just happened to be the current purveyors of the Dead’s music. He got me some CD’s, among them Live Dead, From the Mars Hotel, Skull and Roses, and the long rejected by me American Beauty. I listened, purely for the sake of learning the songs, you see. Then I listened some more. One by one, the songs etched themselves into my receptive brain; accessible rockers like “Bertha,” “Playing in the Band,” “U.S. Blues,” and “One More Saturday Night;” country sounding tunes like “Mama Tried,” “Jack Straw,” and “Cumberland Blues.” Long set pieces like “Dark Star,” “The Eleven,” and “St. Stephen;” marathon jams like “Lovelight,” and “Hard to Handle;” and the song that, in my mind, best defines the Dead, “China Cat Sunflower/I Know You Rider.” Like a true budding Deadhead, I didn’t even bother with the cliché “Truckin’.” Even the once spurned “American Beauty” worked its heretofore ineffective magic on me; it quickly became one of my favorite albums. What happened? How did I give into whatever muse it is that makes people like the Dead (who I imagine is a dreadlocked guy who smells like incense named Devin).
Well, it’s the music. Sounds cliché, I know. But that’s the truth. Similar to the Beatles, the Dead have their particular fans for their particular eras. Some favor the early psychedelic Dead; others have a preference for the mid-seventies Dead; still others cut their teeth at Dead gigs in the eighties, so that’s their preference. My era? Well, there was a time in the Dead’s career when they were between versions of the band. They started in the early sixties as a folk and bluegrass outfit, then like Dylan, went electric, calling themselves the Warlocks. The Grateful Dead evolved from there into the psychedelic explorers of the late 60’s. They then morphed into the space cowboys of Working Man’s Dead and American Beauty. In that time, they added and then lost drummer Mickey Hart and keyboardist Tom Constanten. From 1971 to 1973 they were a 5 piece with Keith Godcheaux on piano. Ron “Pigpen” McKernan, at whose urging the Dead went electric, played organ and harmonica and belted out R and B and blues rave ups like “Lovelight,” “Hard to Handle,” and “Good Lovin’”. The band was less into long experimentation and more into plain jamming. They could still whip up a mean “Dark Star,” but they could also rock. This is the Europe ’72 version of the band. This is the era that produced my favorite version of “China Cat Sunflower/I Know You Rider,” my favorite song and one that I hope to hear in the afterlife (yeah, I know, hell for many, but fucking Nirvana for me). My appreciation of the Dead can be summed up in about seven minutes of music; the transition from “China Cat” into “Rider” is an aural masterpiece, a perfect rendering of melody and musicianship; it is transcendent.
Whew. Back down to earth.
Effusive, I know, but that’s the thing about the Grateful Dead’s music. At its best, it elevates existence; it is just so good that it makes you want to get down on your knees and thank Calliope. I’m open to the fact that many don’t see it the way I see it, or hear it the way I hear it anyway. But even for the naysayers, I think there has to be an appreciation for the fact that Deadheads are such advocates for their musical worldview. It’s the reason Deadheads are so dedicated to the band and why the remnants of the Dead are still at it as Dead and Company featuring John Mayer. The gigs still happen, the deadheads still attend, many by SUV and Land Rover, sure, but they still get there. And there are still the dreadlocked, unwashed, and perennially stoned crusty hippies of all ages to add to the ambience (and not always fragrantly). Despite the absence of Jerry, Phil, Pigpen, Keith and Donna, and Brent, the experience of a Dead show still manages to reach heights of musical bliss. And no, it isn’t the drugs; I’ve attended every Dead show in my short career as a Deadhead on nothing stronger than beer (and the secondhand vapor cloud of pot smoke that is a fixture of every Dead show, no matter where it occurs).  I’ve seen Ratdog, Furthur, the Dead with all the surviving original members, and the new version. I’ve seen Bob Weir solo. I’ve even seen Cubensis, a Dead cover band. And they were all great. During each show, there was at least one point where I felt the music go to a different level into an expression of pure and unbounded beauty. Yep, it is that good. And are some of the fans a bit, well, odd? Sure, but they’re also interesting, and most are cool people. 
The first time my wife accompanied me to a Dead show, we had to get through “Shakedown Street” which is the parking lot or grassy area of any venue hosting the Dead where the vendors selling t shirts, candles, stickers, and other goods illicit and otherwise congregate. It is where you find the folks who couldn’t get tickets, or didn’t need them, and who are gathered just to be there. They are, needless to say, a pretty down to earth bunch. Some look like they’ve been following the Dead since 65; others look like they don’t even know where they are, and still others just look like plain street people. As my wife and I made our way through the stoner scrum, she held tightly onto my arm while looking around with fear in her eyes. “Relax,” I reassured her, “these people aren’t going to hurt anyone.” We got through unscathed and made our way into the venue. The usual yellow jacketed security guards were making their presence known, but this was going to be an easy gig for them; the crowd was much too mellow to cause any problems. In fact, many of the people were having meaningful conversations with the security, looking earnestly into their eyes and patting them on the back. I even saw a few Deadheads hug the security guards. Yep, easy gig.
 So turn on your lovelight, come hear Uncle John’s Band, go truckin’. As I’m writing this, I’m listening to old British punk, so the musical dichotomy that exits for me can be yours as well (one of my favorite pictures is of a mowhawked Joe Strummer with Bob Weir; the best of both worlds). As the bumper stickers used to read (and probably still do): Listen to the Grateful Dead, even if only temporarily. Then we’ll talk.
0 notes
Text
My Super Special Awesome Sauce Supernatural Re-Watch -- Season 1 Episode 8, Bugs
Tumblr media
Welcome to my Supernatural Re-Watch project in which I'm re-watching every episode of Supernatural. Why? Because I want to. I've kind of made a name for myself in the Shadowhunters fandom for my love-hate relationship with the Freeform show. So I thought, hey, since I'm reviewing a sub-par show that constantly disappoints me (Shadowhunters), I should also review a show that I love. This way, when I'm critical of Shadowhunters, my audience can get an understanding of where I come from. What it is I look for in good story telling. Or they could think I'm a hypocritical idiot. Either way, I'm doing this. And also, I love Supernatural and I'm really just looking for an excuse to watch the show and then talk about it. Here we have Episode 8, Bugs. As a reminder, these are my own thoughts and opinions. Please respect them even if you don't agree with them. And like always, please don't send me any spoilers for Season 13.
RECAP
Our teaser begins with a construction crew working on building a new housing district. One of the members of the team was working on the gas line when he falls through a sink hole. His partner goes to get rope to pull the man out. While he's trying to find rope, the man in the sinkhole is suddenly attacked by beatles. He screams and then dies. Picture the scarabs from The Mummy franchise and that's kind of what you're looking at here. Bugs crawling into his ears and eating his brain, not a pretty picture.
We cut away from the teaser to find Sam Winchester sitting on the impala leafing through a newspaper. Dean comes out of the bar glowing from his newfound wealth in hustling pool. Sam is quick to judge Dean on this. Sam wishes they could make money the honest way but Dean is adamant this is the only way because hunting doesn't pay. Sam tells Dean he found a case. They check out this sinkhole and Sam finds some dead beatles. In an attempt to get some dirt on this neighborhood, they go to a neighborhood barbeque where they meet some of the tenants in the area. Sam also meets and bonds a little bit with this 16-year-old kid who's into insects. Later on that night, one of the tenants dies in her shower from massive spider bites. Dean suspects the kid might have something to do with it because the kid has a tarantula and an obsession with insects, in general. They follow the kid into the woods, Dean accuses him, and the kid is adamant he's not the one doing it but he does think something weird is going on with the bugs. 
The kid takes them to this area in the woods where bugs seem to be converging. The Winchesters find some old human skulls and take them to be identified. A professor tells them that these skulls are most likely native american. Sam and Dean head over to a native american reserve where an elderly man tells them a story of how some 150 years ago, the white men had killed just about everyone in the area that housing district is being built on. In retaliation for this injustice, the chief put a curse on the land that no white man shall ever stand on it. The curse will go on for 6 days and kill every white man. Our heroes realize that they're on the 6th day now. That the bugs will kill everyone today which means the kid and his family are in very real danger.
Sam and Dean get to the house and they have to fight off the bugs for the entire night. Once the sun rises, the curse will end. The sun rises and the family decides to move. The father states that he will make sure no one tries to live on this land again. 
This episode also has a little bit of Winchester drama going on that kind carries into the dynamic of this story's main plot. Sam bonds with this 16-year-old kid because the kid feels like he doesn't live up to his father's expectations. Sam can relate to this. It's made apparent in this episode that Sam did not part amicably with his father when he went to Stanford. His father essentially kicked him out when he found out Sam wanted to leave. Sam could never quite measure up to what his father wanted. He tells the kid that he only has to put up with his father's disapproval for a couple more years and then he can leave home for college. Dean is against giving the kid this idea as he feels you should respect your father and stick with your family. This all culminates to a scene where Sam feels as if when they eventually do find their father, he doesn't think Papa Winchester will be happy to see him. After all, Sam scored a full ride to Stanford and was kicked out of his father's house for his trouble. Dean tells Sam that their father was just scared. Sam was heading off to a place where his father wouldn't be able to protect him and he wasn't ready to face it so he reacted badly. But Dean also mentions that yeah, while Papa Winchester reacted badly, he still went to the Stanford grounds whenever he could just to check on Sam and make sure he was alright. He never stopped loving Sam. This newfound information spurs Sam into wanting to find their father even more so he can apologize for the things he said as well on that fateful night. At the end of the episode, we see that the kid and his father, having lived through a life-or-death situation, are now seeing eye-to-eye and realizing what's really important. 
Thoughts
Honestly, when I think back to the very first time I ever watched this episode, I hated it. Doing this re-watch now, I actually don't hate it as much as I used to. I probably hated it back then because well, it's bugs. I hate bugs. That and the story isn't really all that interesting either. I mean, maybe it is if you're into native american lore. But that's an element I've never really been all that interested in so the story in this episode wasn't all that stimulating for me. 
This one thing did stand out to me, though. So, when Sam and Dean are at the house trying to get the family to leave the land before the bugs attack they say it's 12am and these bugs are about to hit so they need to last until the sun rises. This is confusing because when the sun does rise, it feels like only maybe 15 minutes have passed. The entire climax of the episode was really badly paced. I did enjoy the Winchester drama here. I felt it related very well with what was going on with the family we were introduced to in this episode. Sam understands this kid because he understands what it's like to have a father who doesn't approve of him. Dean doesn't quite understand the animosity Sam has towards their father because he's always been the perfect son. However, because Dean's judgement is not being clouded by anger, he's able to relay to Sam that under Papa Winchester's bravado, deep down he loves Sam. And then it kind of goes symmetrical with this family we're introduced to in this episode. At first, you can tell that the father doesn't approve of his kid having this fascination with insects but after they go through this life-or-death scenario, he understands what really matters. He and his son almost died. It doesn't matter that his son maybe a little weird, he's alive and he's reminded that he loves him regardless of that. So it was a nice little symmetrical arc between the two families. I always enjoy the family themes in these episodes.
Favorite Quotes
SAM: (to Dean) You watch Oprah? I like this because throughout the series you'll get these tiny little hints that despite Dean stating he doesn't like chick flick moments, he has a little bit of chick flick in him. Dean has a certain idea of what a masculine man should be like so he kind of hides these guilty pleasures that he feels doesn't fit in with the persona he wants to have.
DEAN: (to Sam) I'm gonna talk to Larry, kay, honey? This is such a tongue and cheek line and I love it. Sam and Dean are mistaken not once but twice as each other's life partners and at this point, Dean is just fed up with it. There's also a lot of irony with it as well. Considering Wincest is one of the biggest ships in the Supernatural fandom. I personally don't ship it but if you do, no judgement here. You do you. I'm cool with it. I have my own ships that I would prefer people didn't judge me on, after all.
SAM: Like when I said I'd rather play soccer instead of learn bow-hunting. DEAN: Bow-hunting's an important skill. You really are starting to see the difference in personalities with Sam and Dean in this episode. Sam always wanted the "normal" pursuits whereas Dean sees nothing wrong with choosig bow-hunting over soccer.
I'd give this episode probably a B-. It's a little shallow to say this is why I don't like the episode, I know, but the bug part of it still freaks me out a little. I have no real inclination to re-visit this episode. The main story also wasn't that interesting for me either. But that's probably just a case of personal preference. I'm just not super interested in native american lore. But I did enjoy the family dynamics in this episode. There was a lot of heart to the story which is why I like it slightly more than I did previously. So there is that.
If you have any thoughts or opinions, I'd love to hear them. Just remember to be respectful and please, no spoilers for Season 13.
0 notes