#Sullivan brothers

[number1iowan]

I would like to make it clear that this is COMICS Clint Barton, not the mcu version. As a young boy, Clint and his brother escaped their abusive father by running away to the circus, where they learned the venerable art of trick shots, a skill he would use to become the hero Hawkeye. He is also Hard of Hearing as a result of his childhood abuse, and he has a dog named Lucky the Pizza Dog.

The Sullivan brothers were a real set of five brothers who served in the Navy during WWII. All five of them served on the same ship and, therefore, died when it sank, leading to the creation of the Sole Survivor policy that Saving Private Ryan is based on. At the end of the movie, the four older brothers who died first are walking into heaven, and the youngest brother runs up like, wait for me fellas!!!! Heartbreaking.

[mareislandfoundation]

Abandoned

On January 31, 1943, Navy Lieutenant (LT) Charles Wang checked into the hospital at Mare Island Naval Shipyard. His journey to the hospital had been epic as he joined the flood of World War II casualties to be treated at the hospital since the Pearl Harbor casualties arrived on Christmas Day two years before. Lt. Wang’s stay in hospitals stretched out to two years and 30 operations as doctors struggled to repair the damage that a plummeting radar antenna and 6 days of exposure had done to his mangled leg. By all rights, Lieutenant Wang should have been dead, but luck and two sailors had collaborated to save his life.

In the pitch black of night on Friday the 13th of November 1942, Lt. Wang with two other officers, were in charge of Gun Control 2 and had survived unscathed an epic naval battle in Iron Bottom Sound off Guadalcanal. US forces had captured a Japanese airfield on the island of Guadalcanal and in a desperate gamble Japanese Admiral Yamato was throwing everything he had at the US troops to dislodge them. The Americans had broken the Japanese codes and knew that the Japanese were coming. Forty-eight ships, including battleships, heavy cruisers, light cruisers and destroyers were coming through a narrow feature known as the slot intent on pummeling the US troops on Guadalcanal and destroying any warships they might encounter.

Steaming towards the Japanese fleet was a much smaller US fleet that Admiral Bull Halsey had hastily assembled to counter the Japanese move. The US fleet was outgunned and consisted of only two heavy cruisers, two light cruisers and eight destroyers. As the two fleets approached each other the Japanese searchlights suddenly lit up at about two in the morning. All hell broke loose as both sides opened on the other. By morning the two fleets were limping apart. While the Japanese had suffered heavy losses they had scored a tactical victory. Only six ships of the American fleet had survived and except for one destroyer all the remaining ships were heavily damaged. Lt. Wang’s light cruiser the USS Juneau (CL-52) was struggling back to the US base at Espiritu Santo 600 miles away. Lt. Wang survived the battle with no injuries, but the same was not true for his ship and shipmates both of which had been decimated.

The Juneau was built to provide anti-aircraft fire to protect carriers and was never expected to slug it out in a surface engagement. Juneau was riddled with gunfire and a Japanese torpedo had struck her forward boiler room killing everyone in it. Her mess hall had been converted to a sick bay during the battle and suffered a direct hit that reduced it to twisted metal and body parts. Juneau was down at the bow as she limped along on one engine while being steered from a jury-rigged apparatus at the rudder post. As Lt. Wang gazed across the water to the heavy cruiser USS San Francisco (CA-38) he was looking at a similar mess. Her topsides had been struck numerous times leaving a jangle of twisted metal. Her crew had suffered hundreds of casualties, and her bridge was gone because of nearly the entire Japanese fleet focusing on her. Lt. Wang was not the only person looking at the San Francisco.

Staring through his periscope Commander Yokota of the Japanese submarine I-26 fired two torpedoes at the San Francisco. Those torpedoes missed their intended target streaking across her bow. One of the torpedoes found a different victim. Unseen until seconds before impact, that torpedo slammed into Juneau’s magazine. In a massive explosion the huge ship was blown in two and ceased to exist. As the hull sections slipped beneath the waves the ship's radar antenna came hurtling down and broke Lt. Wang’s right leg before he was dragged underwater. Lt. Wang survived the suction of the sinking and ended up on an improvised raft with about 140 survivors most of whom were also badly wounded.

As the men struggled to survive, they were stunned to see the entire fleet sail away. The fleet commander had reasoned that no one could have survived the massive explosion, and it was too dangerous to stay in the area with a Japanese submarine lurking. The men’s injuries, sharks, exposure and lack of fresh water now began whittling away at the survivors. Lt. Wang was in such bad shape that two men determined to set off with him in a raft to a nearby island to seek help. They reached the island 6 days after the sinking, dehydrated, sunburned and starving. Found by natives they were eventually rescued, and Lt. Wang was brought to Mare Island for treatment.

Lt. Wang and his companions were shocked to learn that of original 140 survivors, only 10 men were still alive. Included in the dead were the now famous five Sullivan brothers who had fought hard to serve together on the same ship despite Navy policy against such a practice. Lt. Wang’s war was over as his stay in hospitals stretched out for two years and 30 operations as doctors struggled to repair the damage that the plummeting radar antenna and 6 days of exposure had done to his mangled leg.  He returned home to Philadelphia, married, and earned his medical degree, perhaps influenced by his experiences at the Mare Island hospital.

Dennis Kelly

[gayestpiano]

i made a playlist of songs that have a duration as a title

points of interest in this one:

i spent a frankly insane amount of time calculating how long “One Hundred Sleepless Nights” is, which culminated in using government data and an actual spreadsheet

“52 Weeks” < “365 Days” = “525,600 Minutes” < “1 Year”

“5 Years, 3 Months, 18 Days” followed by “5 Years, 4 Months, 3 Days” followed by “5 Years, 8 Months and 12 Days”

[tkorhoh]

FEEDS ↳ cam's backyard roast performance.

[supercap2319]

The beer shoved at Y/N's face was almost as shocking as the person attached to it. Not that being given a plastic at a high school party full of drunk teenagers was shocking, but it was the person who was handing out the alcohol that was the problem.

Tonight was a little party at Jonny's house, and even though they didn't talk much, Jonny invited Y/N. That's where this beer situation came into play. Everyone knew about Danny Sullivan Blake's little outburst at school after he found out that Y/N saved his little brother Finney from bullies.

People excepted Y/N to leave the school grounds in a body bag after Danny got through with him, but to everyone's shock; he let Y/N go. Now, here at this party by nothing short of the inevitable, Danny Sullivan once again came face to face with Y/N in the public eye of their peers. "I'm sorry."

"Excuse me?" Y/N asked. He was actually shocked. Did Danny just apologize to him? The same guy who beat the shit out of Vance Hopper last June?

"Look. I ain't really good at showing my emotions, and if you tell anyone about this, I'll kill you, but I was wrong to treat you the way I did at school. You were just protecting my little brother, and I think I owe you a big thank you for that. So here." He held up the plastic cup of beer once again.

Y/N took the cup and smiled. "Thank you, Danny."

"Don't mention it, L/N."

[make-friends-with-the-rats]

don't think about Michael Sullivan. don't do it.

[i-didnt-do-1t]

Somehow, the pit in Jack’s stomach got deeper. All consuming. He’d always hated himself, hated this city, had always felt a bone deep aching loneliness settling down heavy on his shoulders, but this was worse.

The one thing, the only thing that mattered now was getting to Santa fe. Fuck how Racetrack looked at him. Fuck how Davey stormed off, how Les had…ran from him.

He swallowed. And if the backs of his eyes stung with tears, then he was practised at blinking them back.

The alley at the back of the theatre was empty when he finally stumbled outside, inhaling deep, throat aching, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. A restless energy, a bad one, thrumming through him.

He could go now. up and leave and no one would miss him and it would be for the best, he barely even had anything to get, nothing he couldn’t shove in a bag. That picture maybe, of his folks, of- he cut that thought short. That nice pencil he picked up from a supply shop. Nothing important. Nothing that he’d need.

He only looked up from the cobblestone street when the sound of stone grinding against stone came from the bottom of the alley.

A figure was leant against the rough brick, next to the remains of an old torn poster, one Jack had painted months back now, the wind and the rain had all but destroyed it; Medda was barely visible on it anymore, the colours washed out and dirty and grey.

Jack could only tell it was Oscar by the set of his jaw and the glowing red end of his cigarette.

“Hell of a show in there.” He said, breathing out a mouthful of smoke, southern accent drawling.

When Jack stepped closer he could make out the easy smile on Oscar’s face. Casual and amused, teeth showing.

“What do you want, Oscar.” he intended to sound angry, but instead it came out exhausted, caught in the back of his throat.

“Was asked to make sure you were holdin’ up your end of the deal.” He paused while his brought his cigarette back to his lips, inhaled slowly, “brutal though, yeah?”

Jack thought about it. Thought about throwing the punch Oscar was angling for and the brawl that would come of it. The grounding pain of brass knuckles against his gut and his jaw and Oscar’s nose cracking under his knuckles and the burning end of a cigarette pressed into his skin because Oscar fought dirty.

Instead he scowled, and rolled his shoulder.

“So you gonna go crawling back to Pulitzer now?” It came out rough, “can tell him I did my bit.”

“Yeah you sure as hell did.” Oscar finally pushed himself away from the wall, twisting slightly to stub out his cigarette on the brick behind him, he let the silence settle for a moment, movements slow and intentional and arrogance in his stance and the set of his shoulders.

Jack waited, jaw tense.

Oscar dropped the cigarette and ground it under his foot.

“wonder what Michael would say.”

[noxexistant]

michael sullivan haunts his brother, but he haunts other people too. his death had had witnesses, after all — an audience of them, filthy sunken faces pressed to the barred windows of the refuge, watching cowboy make it out. watching michael be left behind, black like ink spreading on the cobblestones around him.

michael sullivan haunts oscar delancey. he’d been one of those faces in the window, grateful in that instant that he’d had the sense — the feeling of cloying dread, the knowledge that this couldn’t go well, that kelly couldn’t be so lucky — to keep morris behind him, blocked from seeing. but oscar had seen.

he’d watched longer than all the rest of them, kept watching even as all the others fell away, crying or sick or simply bored of the show. he’d watched as michael sullivan was scooped from the stone like an animal struck, watched as pails of water were brought out and upended in a marching sequence, washing the blood to a sickly watery pallor that never fully ran clear, just spread and spread and spread.

he hadn’t told morris what had happened, not that day. but he’d held morris particularly tight in their narrow, shared bunk that night. hadn’t slept. every time he closed his eyes, he saw kelly’s little brother dead in the street. thought about morris, just as small. just as bloody and dead. so he kept vigil over his little brother, holding him close and alive and whole.

he thinks about michael often. more a ghost now than human. oscar had never paid him much mind when he was alive, no interest in a kid beside his own. but now michael is always there, in the back of oscar’s mind and the blood on the streets and the angles of morris’ face that holds a similar ghost of his own youth even though oscar had held him tight enough for him to survive it. oscar thinks about michael and it’s a lesson to keep morris closer, hit harder, follow the goddamn orders that he’s given and not step out of line, because stepping out of line puts you in the line of fire.

the line of wagon wheels and hooves and snyder’s sick face clear as day even from the distance, amusement like somebody had whispered a joke in his ear right when the kid fell.

so oscar thinks of michael. and he does as he’s told, and he looks after morris, and he swears to god and himself that he’ll never be kelly.

and morris will never be michael.

[lifelovemusiq]

(X)

[callonpeevesie]

justiman enjoyers please accept my humble offering. inspired by @nadiajustbe's post about ben's guitar

putting this under the cut because i don't want the caption to get too long.

i Do Not know why justin looks like oscar wilde, i swear it was an accident. i Did draw the green carnation on purpose, and only later realised that green carnations being a symbol of homosexuality is a thing of our world and wouldn't be known in ingary. ....which means ben grew the flowers and gave that to justin Knowing the symbolism. dork.

most of the descriptions in the book are super vague so i just made up the designs. while ben canonically has ginger hair, i don't remember if justin's hair colour was ever mentioned in the books (his blue eyes Were mentioned in cita) but the strangian soldier had grey hair so i was going for dark grey. but the markers i used make everything too dark so it looks black now. not that i'm complaining.

justin's uniform is my design with some inspiration from these. all that was mentioned in hmc were green uniform and long shiny boots, and the green uniform was his disguise according to lettie so ??? i have no idea what he wears when he's not in disguise so have this i guess.

the guitar is mostly based on this. for ben's outfit i went for a cloak-ish thing to make him look wizardly but kept the shirt and pants casual since ben seems to me like the type to wear practical clothes in contrast with howl's flamboyance.

[lesbiansouhiyori]

listening to Ruddigore and I know G&S can be a lil wild but I actually have no fucking clue what's going on right now

[tkorhoh]

BIG BROTHER 26 Cam Sullivan-Brown

[imthefkgsupreme]

Cam is never beating the comp flops allegations

[theassbender]

New INSANE interview on YT

This is not a drill, I repeat THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

Choked and/or nearly spat out my morning coffee a total of 5 TIMES in the span of 10 minutes, so… yeah don’t recommend drinking.

Some real unhinged fucking lines in there 😭

[whatithinkaboutdarkshadows]

Episode 633/634: Now was the moment, or never at all

Suave warlock Nicholas has had bad news. His boss, Satan, will be recalling him to Hell, and does not plan to send him out to the world of the living again. Satan gave Nicholas two tasks to complete before his time runs out. He is to perform a Black Mass during which he will sacrifice Maggie, The Nicest Girl in Town, and afterward take her to Hell with him as his bride. He is also to complete the…

[huffpuffstarr]

the eldest sullivan finally gets his time to shine again

my sweet gabriel