I found a gif with this on it and I almost started crying. Countdown to the Comet was when Nicktoons ran every episode for three days. I remember watching this. I remember being eight years old and waiting for this. I remember the countdown ticking down to five minutes. I remember seeing Zuko and Iroh’s reunion for the first time and my mom trying to hide the fact that she was crying. This brought up so many emotions because it put me back at an almost exact time. I can’t tell you how much I want to watch this like this again. Not knowing how Aang will master the elements, learning along with Zuko about the White Lotus, being flabbergasted at who Bumi really was, hanging off the edge of my seat when you hear Jet’s voice on the ferry, not knowing that Pakku and Kanna were in love, wondering how Zuko got his scar, watching Katara take down Hama, realizing who Suki was at the same time as Sokka on the docks, watching Zuko’s redemption arc, meeting Toph, watching Katara’s power grow, learning about Kya and Lu Ten, not knowing what black snow means, hating book one Zuko. Rewatching this reminds me how many great moments and plot twists and cliff hangers I’ll never get to experience again. I want to fall in love with it again.
Give me stories where people don’t doubt that Bitty is on the hockey team because of his stature, but because he isn’t an obnoxious, loud-mouthed, overly-opinionated rUDE PERSON, YES YOU ADAM BIRKHOLTZ AND WILLIAM POINDEXTER I AM POINTING AT YOU
I love how Avatar makes the nonbenders just as cool and powerful. It’s like saying “hey you don’t have these cool powers but you can still be like these awesome characters” Korra fell in love with a nonbender. The fire lord fell in love with a nonbender. The self proclaimed greatest earthbender of all time had a crush on a nonbender. Some people argue that the fire princess fell in love with a nonbender. The avatars son was (for most of his life) a nonbender. The two greatest warriors to come out of the water tribe were nonbenders. The universes greatest bounty hunter was a nonbender. The fire princess chose two nonbenders for her small elite team. Two thirds of the gaang were nonbenders. I just think it’s really cool.
My contribution for day one of Nursey week. Warnings for anxiety, gaslighting and emotional abuse.
It’s the silence that really gets to Derek.
He can deal with noise. The chattering of relatives and banging of pots and pans when he sees his grandparents, the shouting of raucous young men filling the Haus at Samwell, even his mother’s singing and the scratching of his mom’s pencil on paper could be classified as noise. Noise doesn’t hurt. Or maybe it would if Derek’s brain knew how to process stimulation properly, but after years of breakdowns and crying fits, his brain knows now how to shut down quite effectively. Voices start to raise or lights get too bright and Derek is gone, yanked out of his body and left to watch from a distance. It’s safer up there, with his body numb and his head filled with cotton instead of brains.
This is different. This is no safe, manufactured quiet. This is a silence that sucks in everything around it, leaves the air dry and cold, makes Derek’s quiet breaths sound like thunder. He’s trapped in a car with what seems like a quickly dwindling air supply and his father in the driver’s seat. Somehow the second part of the equation scares him more.
This started out well. Derek had come in with a clear plan: explain to his father that it hurt him when his father cancelled plans at the last minute. No raised voice, no confrontational tone, just calmly explain and ask that he give Derek a little more warning in the future. Easy.
Derek has no idea when or how the plan went to shit. All he knows is he just apologized to his father about seven times, and since then, the sound and air have been slowly siphoned out of the car, leaving Derek alone with spasming lungs and the disappointed face of the person whose approval he craves the most.
Stupid, he thinks to himself. He was overreacting. He always overreacts when it comes to his dad. He shouldn’t have said anything. Now he’s upset, and his dad is upset, and the silence is getting stronger by the second.
“I’m sorry,” Derek tries to say again, just to say something. His words come out as barely a whisper. The silence is stealing my words, he thinks, and then frowns. He’s being pretentious again. No one likes it when he does that. He digs his teeth into the side of his tongue and prays that he’ll be out of this car soon.
“Now just follow me and we can start the tour,” says the short, pie-wielding Wellie. His southern accent is pretty strong, but not in an obnoxious way, Derek muses. It’s charming, really. He’s trying to come up with a suitable descriptor for the guy’s exact tone quality when his equilibrium goes wonky and the ground starts rushing towards his face. Derek closes his eyes and does his best to protect his face as he lands hard on the concrete.
“Shit,” he mutters once the shock of the impact is over and he’s able to move shakily to his knees. “I’m fine,” he announces to the crowd of current and potential Samwell hockey players surrounding him.
“Are you sure, sweetheart?” the southern guy– Bitty, that’s what Shitty had called him– asks, and Derek wonders dimly how Bitty got over to him so quickly.
“Yeah, just a little tumble. It’s chill.”
“Alright, well I’m going to head on back to the front of this little parade of ours, but if you need first aid or to take a break, just let me know.”
“Thanks. I’m sorry.”
Bitty looks at him, puzzled. “Sorry for what?”
“For holding you guys up. I know we’re already running a bit late.”
“Well that’s just silly. Tripping is not anything you need to be apologizing for.”
“Oh,” Derek says. He smiles slightly. “Okay.”
“Sorry,” Derek gasps. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he continues through shuddering breaths. “I’m sor-”
“No,” Holster says firmly. He lays a hand on Derek’s shoulder and softens his tone. “It’s okay. It’s okay, you’re allowed, alright? Me and Ransom, and, fuck, like half the dudes on this team, have been through exactly what you’re going through. Do you want to hold onto my hand?”
Derek ducks his head, not wanting to meet Holster’s eyes. He absolutely does want to hold onto Holster’s hand, but he knows that it’ll be better if he can just get out of the room and finish his stupid panic attack out of his teammate’s way.
“Hey, hey,” Holster says, stroking Derek’s arm. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I want to help, okay? Just grab my hand if you want to and breathe with me, alright? It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”
Derek almost says no. But something in Holster’s voice, something soft and understanding, makes him grab hold of Holster’s hand.
Holster smiles, and Derek almost feels important.
Derek says goodbye to the hockey team at Lake Quad, where his friend Lea is waiting with a notepad and a bag filled with far more pens than any human being could ever need. The two of them watch the team leave in their little pack, yelling and laughing all the way.
“How do you deal with.. all that?” Lea asks, waving a hand at the shrieking hockey players. “I feel like you’d never get a minute of silence with those dudes around.”
Nursey smiles and shrugs nonchalantly. “Ehh. There are worse things than noise.”