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arvandus · 3 years

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Congrats on 500 followers! Could I perhaps request 8 from the fluff prompts with Present Mic, but platonic? Like he's the reader's unofficial metaphorical dad and something bad happens to the reader and the prompt line is what he says at the end? Sorry if that's confusing.

Thank you so much! Ngl, I struggled with this one a bit. I’ve never written for Present Mic before, so this was new territory for me. Also never written platonic before, which was also a good exercise. Really though, it’s because this was INSTANTLY the idea that had popped into my head with your request, and it WOULD NOT BUDGE. Normally not a problem, but for some reason, I had the hardest time figuring out how to fit the dialogue prompt into it. BUT I DID IT! It only took me.... *checks* 1732 words to get there. 🤣🤣🤣

This makes it my biggest one yet for the 500 Followers Event. I hope you enjoy it! It’s a bit angst heavy in the beginning because of the nature of your request, but it does end on a happy note!

8. “You are my family.”

It happened. It actually happened. You had hoped it wouldn’t, but here you were, sitting on a park bench with nothing but a backpack and a duffle bag. Your mind replayed the sound of your family’s words in your head. Harsh, cruel, heartless words.

‘Get out.’

Sure, there was more to it than that, but you didn’t want to dwell on it, to let it fester within you and take root. There was already more than enough damage tied to their memory, and the last thing you wanted to do was carry it with you. After all, you had enough baggage as it was.

Of course, this was easier said than done. The ache sat heavy in your gut, your heart a black void. Questions flew circles in your mind like crows, questions you’d likely never know the answer to. They mocked you, pecking at your resolution, tearing at your self-esteem. Tears soaked down your cheeks and you let them fall freely as you wrapped your arms around yourself, struggling to find a strength you weren’t sure you had.

You began to shiver as the cold night air made its way into your jacket. You couldn’t stay here. You knew you couldn’t; it wasn’t safe. You looked at your phone for the tenth time. A single contact stared back at you.

Hizashi Yamada.

Hizashi was your mentor, your guide… and quite frankly, the closest thing you had to a good father figure. He’d helped you through your years at UA, both academically and emotionally, giving you the support you’d desperately needed, the support that was painfully absent with your own family. He treated you kindly and respectfully, taking you under his wing so that you could flourish. He praised you in your successes and guided you through your failures, all while keeping a light heart that constantly reminded you not to take life too seriously. It set up the foundation for a strong bond between the two of you that continued after graduation. It was a bond that you still had, ever evolving with occasional check-ins and coffee shop meet-ups, where he often gave you professional and even sometimes fatherly advice.

Fatherly was what you needed right now, more than anything. He was the only person you really trusted, the only one who knew about your situation. He’d even said for you to call him if you were ever in trouble.

This counted, right?

Still, you hesitated. You didn’t want to inconvenience him. And you’d never ever reached out to him in this capacity before.

But you didn’t really have any other choice.

You pressed the call button.

It rang once. Twice.

“Y/N?” His voice answered. No doubt, your name came up on his phone.

You swallowed.

“Um… Hi, Mr. Hizashi…” you mumbled.

“Hey, kid! You okay? What’s got you callin’ so late?” he replied. You could hear the concern underlying his jovial tone, and you clutched your phone tighter to your ear, grateful to know that at least someone out there cared about you.

“I… I need some help.” You said. “They… they kicked me out.”

There was a silent pause. When he finally spoke, his voice was somber. “I’ll come get you. Tell me where you are.”

You thanked him and gave him your location. He kept you on the phone with him the entire time as he drove over, making you speak to him and describe your surroundings. Any people who walked by you, specific landmarks, anything he might need to know if trouble arrived before he did. When you finally saw his headlights pull up into the parking lot of the park, relief flooded you and you nearly ran to his car. He was a sight for sore eyes, his blonde hair pulled back into a casual man bun, his clothing simple. He stepped out of the driver’s side door to put your things in his trunk before opening his passenger door for you.

“Thank you.” You said as he settled back into the driver’s seat next to you.

“I’m glad you called me.” He replied.

As he drove, he spoke to you. “You don’t have anywhere to go, do you?” he asked.

Your vision blurred and you shook your head.

“Listen. I’m going to give you a couple of options for tonight. I can take you back to my place and you can crash on my couch. Or, if you’re not comfortable with that, I can reach out Nemuri. I’m sure she’d understand.”

You were grateful he didn’t offer to put you up in a motel by yourself or take you to a homeless shelter. The tension in your spine eased slightly.

“Um.. your place, please, if that’s okay…” you mumbled.

You could see relief smooth the creases on his brow and he smiled at you. “Of course it is.”

You arrived at Hizashi’s home and he helped you carry your things in. He retreated to his hallway to grab a spare blanket and a pillow and set it up for you on the couch. You looked at the space curiously, intrigued at his level of preparedness.

Hizashi noticed the questioning look on your face, and chuckled. “Shouta crashes here sometimes. Gotta be prepared.”

You gave a small chuckle at the mental picture.

“How about some tea?” Hizashi asked as he disappeared into the kitchen. You could hear the clinking of ceramics and the running of water. “Have ya had anything to eat?” He called out. “Are ya hungry?”

You shook your head, your stomach still twisted in knots. “No, I’m okay…”

“Well, if that changes, feel free to help yourself whenever you want.” He replied.

By this point, the dam of your emotions was beginning to crack, and you sat on the couch with your head in your hands. You could feel fresh tears filling your eyes, sticking to your lashes. You blinked at them, letting them fall into your palms.

A few minutes later, Hizashi returned with a cup of hot tea that he handed to you. You took it gratefully and sipped at its contents, letting the warmth coat your throat and fill your stomach. It helped to slightly ease the knot of anxiety that you felt twisted up inside you.

“I’m so sorry to ask for your help like this.” You muttered. “I’m sure this isn’t what you had in mind when you gave me your number. I just didn’t have anyone else to turn to.”

“It’s okay.” He replied. “Like I said, I’m glad you called me.”

“I promise I won’t stay long…” you said. “I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“You’ll stay as long as you need to. I’m not going to let you out back on the street by yourself.” He said sternly. “I’ll start reaching out to people tomorrow. I’m sure there are some UA graduates that might be cool with getting a new roommate.”

“Thank you.” You said again.

Another long silence filled the space as you sipped at your drink. He quietly sat near you, letting you acclimate to his space and this strange, new situation. Once the mug was empty, you set it down.

“So… do you want to tell me what happened?” he asked.

You began to recount all that had transpired hours before. The things your family did, the things they said… You tried to keep the emotions separate from your words, but it was impossible. Within a matter of minutes, the dam finally burst, and you were openly sobbing. As you cried, Hizashi offered you a box of tissues and put a comforting hand over yours. You clutched at it in return like a lifeline, his silent consolation tethering the broken pieces of your heart.

“I don’t know what to do now.” You whispered. “Hizashi… what’s going to happen to me…?”

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. Together.” He replied.

You stared at him and he stared back, a small reassuring smile on his lips. He was such a good person. Already, he’d managed to give you more support in the past twenty minutes than you’d received from your family in months.

You gave a sad, ironic laugh.

“You’re like the dad I wish I had…” you muttered.

Hizashi’s eyes widened for a moment, and panic filled you. You hadn’t meant to say that; the words had just slipped out, a small confession of tired heart. But then he laughed and scratched the back of his head.

“Haha, really? Thanks! I guess we have gotten pretty close over the years…”

The tension in the room immediately evaporated. You gave a small smile, glad that your comment didn’t have the dramatic impact you feared it would. The man’s positivity seemed as immovable as the mountains.

Hizashi’s chuckles eased, and his expression softened. “To be honest, I always knew you had family troubles. When you teach long enough, you start to notice those kinds of things. And back then, there really wasn’t much I could do about it. But that’s part of why I wanted to help you, I think. To give you a chance to grow past that, so it wouldn’t define you.”

He stared at his hands as he continued. “I guess, maybe in some way, I did sort of adopt you, in my heart.” His eyes looked up at you again, holding your attention. “So, don’t feel bad about saying that, okay? If anything, it makes this old man’s heart happy.”

Your stared at him, your eyes freshly stinging as new emotions – happy emotions – bubbled forth.

“Hizashi….”

“Yeah?”

“Could I have a hug?”

He gave a chuckle and sat next to you before putting his arm around you. You leaned against him, soaking up the physical contact. It drove away the loneliness and replaced it with something you’d only ever really felt in his presence.

Love, strong and familial.

You had thought that you were all cried out, but you were wrong. Fresh sobs shook from your body like the boughs of a snowy tree, knocking loose all that you’d been carrying within yourself. The anger, the fear, the self-loathing…

Hizashi rested his chin on your head as you cried. “You are my family.” He said softly. “Only if you want to be, of course.”

You nodded fervently as a laugh bubbled from your throat, pure joy filling you. You were safe. You were loved. And maybe… just maybe… you were home.

#Arv's 500 Followers Event #Present Mic #Hizashi Yamada #Platonic!Mic x reader #family themes #angst to fluff #bnha #mha

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mst3kproject · 7 years

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609: The Skydivers

I kind of wanted to start out by saying something about how this is the long-awaited third installment in the Coleman Francis Trilogy of Tedium, but that doesn't work. First of all, The Skydivers is actually Francis' middle movie, made in 1963 (The Beast of Yucca Flats was first, in 1961, and Red Zone Cuba third, in 1966). Second, that would make me sound like an Argento fan waiting twenty-seven years for The Third Mother, when actually my reaction to seeing The Skydivers pop up in my randomizer was “oh, right. There's another fucking Coleman Francis movie.”

Like its two sisters, The Skydivers is a bleak and disjointed experience. A married couple, Harry and Beth, run a skydiving school. Harry is having an affair with a woman named Suzy (if the name of her boat is anything to go by, the 'z' is supposed to be backwards). Beth retaliates by almost having an affair with Joe, the airfield's new mechanic. Joe was hired to replace Franky, who was fired for being drunk and now wants revenge on his former employer. When Harry spurns Suzy, she and Franky sabotage his parachute, and Harry goes splat. Suzy and Franky are gunned down by the FAA(?!). Beth feels guilty and breaks up with Joe before leaving the skydiving school to do something else that probably won't involve airplanes. Crow gets destroyed a lot, and I conclude that people whose names end in 'y' probably shouldn't get involved with skydiving.

If anyone's interested, there is at least one recorded case of a skydiver being murdered by sabotaging his parachute, that of Steve Hilder in 2003. The saboteur was never found and the case remains unsolved.

As for the movie itself, there's very little in The Skydivers that would be of interest to... anybody, really. The movie is dull and badly-lit, featuring boring people in awkward situations. About the only thing that really caught my attention at any point was the fact that there is some actual footage of skydiving, although you can never see the jumpers' faces up close and I suspect Coleman Francis borrowed it from some other film ('parachuting' footage featuring recognizable characters appears to involve actors hanging from the rafters by a backpack, which I can only imagine as being terribly uncomfortable). The closest thing to a theme I can find in this celluloid coma is the idea of thrill-seeking. Various characters search for a way to brighten up their colourless lives, and end up suffering for it.

The character Pete seeks thrills by skydiving – he claims it's the only thing that makes him feel alive and free, and he tries ever more dangerous stunts until finally he is unable to pull his parachute cord and falls to his death. In terms of the actual plot, however, Pete's fate serves no purpose except to ensure the FAA are on hand to witness Harry's murder later. It seems to have inspired Suzy's revenge plot, but sabotaging a skydiver's parachute is such an obvious idea that this wouldn't be necessary. His death feels ultimately pointless, not even Grist for the Wheels of Progress.

Harry and Beth each seek a thrill in the form of an illicit affair, but the results are very different because their partners respond differently to their ultimate rejections. Joe respects Beth enough to accept her rejection, not once but twice: when she initially tells him this can go no further and they must be content to be friends, he accepts it with grace. At the end, when she tells him she can't stay at the skydiving school, he accepts that too, even though it means he will probably never see her again.

Suzy, on the other hand, has no respect for anybody, even as she expects other people to respect her – witness how she attacks Harry when he calls her a 'broad'. She was spoiled as a child, and never learned to see other people as anything but a way to get what she wants. When she can no longer get the sexual excitement she wants from Harry, she kills him. Franky is nothing but a tool she uses to exact this revenge. Beth, who has nothing to offer, means nothing to her.

I guess it's mildly noteworthy that The Skydivers is the only Coleman Francis movie in which more than one woman has lines. In The Beast of Yucca Flats the only woman who talked was the mother of the vacation family, and she didn't have a whole lot to say. In Red Zone Cuba I think Chastain's wife had a line or two, but I can't remember a word of them. In The Skydivers, both Beth and Suzy have a fair amount of actual dialogue, and manifest distinctly different personalities. They are stereotypes, being the 'femmy fattily' and the long-suffering wife, but they make decisions as individuals rather than as 'women', with comprehensible reasons for doing so. So, uh, that makes Coleman Francis better at writing women than Tommy Wiseau, I guess.

I feel like the universe owes me a cookie for putting me in a position to write that sentence.

I really don't think the consequences of thrill-seeking are the point of the movie, though – the fates of Harry and Beth have more to do with their partners than with the actual illicit sex, and Pete's death seems far too pointless. The whole movie seems pointless, really – as Beth leaves the airfield at the end, we have no idea why we were just told that story, and what, if anything, we were supposed to take from it. That seems to be a theme of Coleman Francis movies in general: nobody gets a happy ending and when all's said and done there's no point to any of it.

Consider The Beast of Yucca Flats. At the end the monster is dead, but a family has perhaps been destroyed. Or Red Zone Cuba. The villains don't get what they want, but neither do the good guys, and a half dozen other lives have been ruined along the way. Life is nothing but a series of misfortunes. Happiness is fleeting when it appears at all, and death is neither release nor justice, it is merely death. The bare, inhospitable landscapes of the American southwest where Francis filmed seem to underscore the idea: the world is not an inviting place, and does not differentiate between the guilty and the innocent. All of us, sinners and saints, are equally likely to be gunned down by a guy in a plane for no goddamn reason.

This is where we start to see glimmers of a personal philosophy through the cracks of these movies. Coleman Francis' work suggests he believed that humans and our institutions are all basically chaotic neutral, doing whatever will benefit us at the moment without much thought for how it affects those around us. Even Beth, when she rejects Joe's advances, does so for selfish reasons: she believes she will be happier as Harry's wife than Joe's mistress. 'Justice' is arbitrary and cruel. Doing evil rarely avails us anything, but neither does doing good, and at the end of the day we're all just brief candles in the void. This is a really depressing way to live your life and makes for some really depressing movies, and I doubt Francis actually thought like this. Rather, I think he made this kind of movie because he thought that's what important movies should be.

Our entertainment culture seems to believe that tragedy is somehow 'more important' than comedy. Quick, name three Shakespeare plays! I bet two of them were Hamlet and Romeo and Juliet, right? Even if those aren't the ones you came up with, I bet at least two, if not all three, were tragedies. Shakespeare wrote nearly twice as many comedies as he did tragedies (eighteen to ten, by most scholars' counts), but it's his tragedies that are endlessly studied and analyzed, that attract big-name actors and win awards to this day, because they're considered more meaningful than the lighthearted comedies.

This is strange, because comedy is important, too. I think Dustin Hoffman's character in Stranger than Fiction had the best explanation of why: it is by affirming the continuance of life (comedy) that we deal with the unavoidable certainty of death (tragedy). The ancient Greeks knew this, and would finish up an afternoon of tragedies with a comedic performance called a Satyr Play, so that the audience wouldn't leave the theatre depressed. Shakespeare knew it, too. Even Hamlet has jokes, and Horatio is left at the end (continuance of life) to pass on the moral of the story (don't wander around making long-winded speeches like Hamlet – get off your butt and overthrow your evil uncle the way your father's ghost told you to... like Simba!)

Stories can accomplish a lot of things. They teach us to deal with hypothetical situations and our own emotions, give us information about places we've never been and people we've never met. One thing that they really shouldn't do, however, is make us feel terrible for no reason, but that's exactly what Coleman Francis' movies do. That's what you get when people are taught that tragedy is somehow meaningful just because it's tragic. It might be sad, but unless it has characters we identify with and situations that are somehow significant, it's still not good.

If you haven't seen Stranger than Fiction, you're missing out. It's a very funny movie about coping with one's own mortality and might just make you cry over the death of Will Ferrell. If you haven't seen The Skydivers... you're good. Don't bother.

#mst3k #reviews #the skydivers #60s #allow me to recommend a better movie

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craftybouquetdream-us-blog · 7 years

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