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ghostradiodylan · 7 months

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Thirst Games

Kaitlyn threw up a three-finger Mockingjay salute. “May the odds be ever in our favor, you’re the gay Peeta Mellark to my Katniss Everdeen and these are The 74th Annual Thirst Games.”

“Me as Peeta kind of ruins the whole love triangle thing though, no?”

Kaitlyn shrugged. “Love triangles are tired.”

“Yeah, agreed.” Dylan nodded. They both recognized the irony here but refused to acknowledge it.

———————————————

Ryan was dutifully rinsing down the canoes outside the boathouse when he noticed a tall figure approaching out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to see Dylan loping toward him from the direction of the lodge.

“Ryan, hey! I brought you something for your next campfire!” Dylan reached into his pocket and produced a small zip-top bag full of white powder. He handed it over to Ryan, who eyed it suspiciously.

“Dylan… is this cocaine?”

“Yes. Definitely. I’m giving you cocaine for the campfire with your 10 year old campers. First one’s free. That’s how I get you.”

Ryan looked at him blankly. Dylan sighed.

“It’s coffee creamer, you absolute narc. If you toss just a little in the fire, it flames up and you should get some cool sparks. It’s the magic of chemistry. The kids’ll think you’re a wizard. I thought it’d enhance the vibes for your ghost stories!”

“Oh, wow, that’s… actually really cool.” Ryan’s face broke into a grin. “Thanks Dylan!”

“Don’t mention it,” he winked roguishly, “I like you Ryan, but not enough to share my cocaine with you.”

Ryan chuckled at this but as he watched Dylan saunter away toward the radio hut, he had to admit that he really didn’t know if he was joking or not. Ryan was often sarcastic himself, but he also had a habit of taking things others said a bit too literally. He figured Dylan probably was not doing lines in the little shack where he worked over the schedules with Kaitlyn and made his announcements, although if he had been that would explain some of his more colorful broadcasting choices.

———————————————

Dylan was alone in the radio hut waiting for Kaitlyn. He had his back to the door, fully absorbed in trying, unsuccessfully, to unstick a stuck button on the ancient PA system, when he heard the door open.

“Sup Kaitlyn?” He called without looking, “you won’t believe what Ryan said today!” An unexpected warm bass voice came in response.

“What did I say?”

Dylan’s head whipped toward the source of the sound so violently that he nearly toppled out of his chair.

“Uhhh something very wise and cool, obviously,” Dylan fumbled, his hand flying to the back of his head disarmingly as he took in the handsome sailing instructor he’d just been all too ready to gossip about.

“Smooth,” was Ryan’s only reply. He was wearing one of those inscrutable smiles he seemed to favor, the ones that drove Dylan crazy, for better and for worse.

“Sorry, I was expecting Kaitlyn.”

“Yeah, I gathered that. So, what were you saying about me?” Dylan could feel heat rising in his cheeks. He felt like he’d been caught in a transgression, but Ryan didn’t sound angry or even suspicious, he merely seemed interested.

“Oh, just about you mistaking the coffee creamer for cocaine. I thought that was pretty cute.”

Why the hell had he said that last part out loud? Did he forget his Adderall again today? “I mean,” he quickly continued, “I just hope you didn’t try to snort a line or whatever. Woulda' been disappointing to get a nose full of French vanilla and no head rush.”

This seemed to put Ryan at ease. He laughed softly.

“Anyway, what brings you to my humble radio station today, sailor?” Dylan put on what he hoped was a winning smile, “what can I do you for—um—do for you?”

“I was actually thinking more about what I could do for you.”

Mysterious. Cryptic. Intriguing. Why was Ryan like this? And why did Dylan like it so much?

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“Birthday present for you,” said Ryan, “I talked to Mr. H and he finally agreed to let you guys take the van tonight since I’m going too.” Ryan pulled a set of keys from his pocket and twirled it on his index finger before tossing it to Dylan.

Dylan had to concentrate very hard to actually catch the keys hurtling toward his face, but he managed to do so and was incredibly thankful he hadn’t beefed it in front of Ryan.

“Hey, sweet, thanks dude!” Dylan was actually touched. Ryan hadn’t had to do that, but he was glad he did. Ryan thought the van was the present but Dylan wanted to tell him his presence was the only present he needed. Fuck, that was corny. Being in love made him so corny. He refrained. “I’m really glad you decided to go.”

“Sure thing. I could use a night away from the kids, honestly.”

Dylan and Ryan were grinning at each other when the door burst open again.

“Honey, I’m home!” Kaitlyn called to Dylan before noticing that Ryan was there. “Oh,” she raised an eyebrow at Dylan, “am I interrupting something?” Ryan answered her.

“I was just letting the birthday boy know I secured the wheels for this evening.”

“Oh, cool beans! Can’t wait for our wild night out clubbing in North Kill, the the city that never wakes, with three entire businesses that are open past 7 pm!”

“Hey, we’ll make our own fun,” Dylan promised her, “we always do.”

“Well, it’s almost time for rowing lessons,” said Ryan, by way of excusing himself, “see you guys when you get off tonight.”

Yeah, definitely gonna see you when I get off tonight, Dylan thought lewdly, I usually do.

“Later Ry-guy,” said Kaitlyn.

Once she was sure Ryan was out of earshot she wheeled around on Dylan.

“Oh my god, your face when I came in just now,” Kaitlyn tittered as Dylan’s cheeks went slightly pink, “Dude. You’re so whipped. You look at that boy like he’s the moon. Like you’re stoned out of your mind and he’s last bag of Cheetos on earth.”

“I knowwww,” Dylan groaned dramatically, dropping his head onto the desk, “I’m so obvious, it’s painful.”

“Well, you’re obvious and he’s oblivious so that’s an interesting combination.”

“I keep flirting with him thinking he might be flirting with me too, but it’s so hard to tell.”

“I can’t get a read on him either. Of course, I haven’t tried to flirt with him. I let men come to me. Or not. It’s whatever.”

Dylan snickered lightly at this, “I don’t think either method is getting us anywhere but, hey, may the odds be ever in our favor.”

Kaitlyn threw up a three-finger Mockingjay salute. “May the odds be ever in our favor, you’re the gay Peeta Mellark to my Katniss Everdeen and these are The 74th Annual Thirst Games.”

“Me as Peeta kind of ruins the whole love triangle thing though, no?”

Kaitlyn shrugged. “Love triangles are tired.”

“Yeah, agreed.” Dylan nodded. They both recognized the irony here but refused to acknowledge it.

“Aw, shit,” Dylan continued, “you would look hot as fuck with a bow and arrow.”

Kaitlyn gave a small bow of acknowledgement indicating that she did not disagree. “Well, if things go sideways, I’m not frosting myself like a cake,” he shot her a wicked grin, “might let Ryan do it though.”

“Oh my god!” She laughed in disbelief. “That is so wrong.”

“You’re right, if we’re sticking to the bakery metaphor, it’s really more of a glaze.”

“EW! You repulse me, Lenivy. I’m out.” Kaitlyn waved a hand dismissively and turned to leave the radio hut.

“Shut up, you love me. Hey, wait up Short Stack!”

"Catch up, Stretch," she shouted back.

Dylan scrambled after her. He did catch up pretty easily since her little legs were like half as long as his. They were heading to the boathouse for their Monday ritual of watching Ryan row across the lake in a tank top. Their ostensible purpose was to act as lifeguards in case any of the kids fell out of the rowboats, but Ryan hadn’t lost one yet so they mostly just chatted together and ogled him shamelessly in the highly flattering golden hour light.

Dylan was gazing at Ryan through a pair of binoculars, watching Ryan’s toned arms and shoulders flexing and releasing as the propelled his boat across the lake. Happy Birthday to me, he thought smugly. Of course, it would have been sexier if Ryan hadn’t had to wear that bright yellow life jacket that obscured the rest of him, or stop to shout instructions at a bunch of middle school kids through a megaphone every few strokes as they screamed and flailed and invariably dropped their paddles into the lake, but Dylan would take what he could get.

He heard someone approaching him from behind but couldn’t imagine that whoever it was could possibly be more interesting than Ryan’s biceps, so Dylan kept his eyes right where they were until he felt a hand firmly grasp his ass.

“The fuck—?“ he yelped, jumping and nearly dropping his binoculars.

“Happy Birthday, babe,” said a smooth voice in his ear. It was Nick. Dylan swatted Nick’s hand away, tsking in disapproval and kicking backward, halfheartedly, at the other boy’s shin.

“I swear, Nicholas, if you don’t stop sexually harassing me you’re gonna end up sucking my dick. And that’ll be so embarrassing for you when I get drunk off my ass and tell everyone about it at your and Abi’s wedding. Which I’ll be DJing, obviously.”

“I see no reason that I should be embarrassed by any such boyish transgressions of my bachelor days.” Nick shrugged affably, taking a long drag on the joint he’d brought to the boathouse with him and slowly releasing the smoke through his nose.

“Oh my god, get a room you two.” Kaitlyn held out her hand expectantly, her binoculars still pressed to her face and trained on Ryan. She’d smelled the weed without needing to see it. Nick passed her the spliff and she took a hit.

Dylan had no interest in getting a room with Nick. The tall, wavy-haired guy was certainly attractive enough (plus, who wouldn’t go a little weak in the knees the first time they heard that accent?) and Dylan had made a few earnest passes at him before settling on Ryan as his summer crush, but he was pretty sure Nick was straight, or at least mostly straight. He flirted with Dylan in a joking way, sometimes he even crossed the line a bit, like he had just now, but the way he looked at Abi, the deference with which he treated her, the way he got all cute and fidgety when she spoke to him, that felt more like the real deal and Dylan shipped it. He was trying his best to get Nick to make a move, but thought he was pretty hopeless. Which was maybe a little hypocritical of Dylan since he couldn’t seem to make a move on his crush either. But tonight, he thought, that could very well change.

Anyway, it hadn’t taken long for Dylan to realize he only had eyes for Ryan. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. His heart and other prime real estate was reserved for Ryan alone. His eyes however were free to wander over Nick’s bare chest and abs at the pool if they so desired, and it often turned out that they did. But Nick was a follower and no amount of abdominal definition could make up for that in Dylan’s opinion. He was pretty sure the only reason Nick kept flirting with him was that he was mirroring Dylan’s playfully flirtatious energy back at him. He did the same with Jacob, becoming a meathead obsessed with ‘getting chicks’ if they hung out one-on-one for too long.

Ryan, on the other hand, was his own person through and through. He was into the niche little things he liked, black metal, ghost stories, cryptozoology; he didn’t care who knew it or what they thought. And while they generally had a friendly repartee, Ryan challenged Dylan if he thought he was wrong and, as much as Dylan hated for anyone to think he was wrong, he admired the backbone it took for Ryan to point it out, even when he disagreed.

Nick offered the joint to Dylan, who considered it for a moment and declined. “Nah man, Ryan’s coming tonight. I gotta be straight.”

“I feel like you’d want to be anything but straight in every possible way if Ryan’s coming,” Nick chuckled.

“You know what I mean,” he brought the binoculars back up to his eyes in time to see Ryan frantically fishing yet another lost oar out of the lake, “I have to focus.”

“Are you really gonna be straight edge on your own birthday?” asked Kaitlyn, still not taking her eyes off of Ryan. “BOR-ING!”

“No way, I’ll definitely be drunk later,” Dylan assured her, smiling.

“Good,” said Nick, “because I have a handle of vodka in the walk-in with our names on it.”

“Perfection. I’ll stick with that. I just don’t wanna get paranoid around Ryan. He already puts me on edge. Plus, your stash is of a questionable strain if you ask me.”

“Hey!” Nick protested, “It is not! This is perfectly good bud, just because you were convinced that your head was physically fused to the futon last time we smoked, doesn’t mean it’s a quality issue. Didn’t happen to anyone else, did it? That’s the fault of the partaker, not the product.” Kaitlyn was giggling.

“Either way, you guys better get rid of that before Ryan gets finished with the lesson because he will FUH-REAK if he catches you smoking on the property.”

“Ugh, he’s such narc,” Kaitlyn’s eyes were obscured by the binoculars, but Dylan was pretty sure she was rolling them.

“I told him the same thing earlier. I guess we are technically supposed to be ready to jump in the lake to save someone at a moment’s notice, so, maybe he’d be justified in wanting us to not be compromised. For once,” Dylan granted.

“Yeah, well, good thing you aren’t partaking so you don’t become one with deck while one of the campers drowns.” Nick smirked. Dylan kicked him in the shin for real this time.

———————————————

Happy Thirst Games Thursday, have some pre-canon Hacketteer camaraderie.

This is a WIP inspired by Dylan's birthday being right in the middle of camp and Ryan's line about vodka bringing people together. It's either going to be a one shot posted on my AO3 or it'll get folded into Particles & Waves as a flashback, I haven't yet decided which.

I love these jerks. 💕

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spine-buster · 1 year

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Lost in the Memory | Ryan O'Reilly | Prologue

gif credit @/leafsgm

A/N: literally do not even @ me I'm fucking crazy and I have no idea what I'm doing or when I'll update

“You’re gonna want to take the first flight out, aren’t you? So you can get home quicker.”

When Ryan received the news of his trade to the Toronto Maple Leafs, the first people that he called were his parents, Brian and Bonnie. To say that they were ecstatic to have their son much closer to home was an understatement – his mom practically blew out his eardrum over the phone. He was able to have a short but emotional conversation with his dad before telling them he had to go. There was barely anything in his suitcase – just a few suits, and an outfit or two to tie him over for a few days.

As he stepped onto the plane with Noel Acciari, he took his phone out of his pocket once more. There was one more person to text before the news broke and the deal was announced on all the major networks and Twitter.

I’m coming home, Whit.

She didn’t answer for a while. He didn’t blame her. It had been months since they’d exchanged text messages, for no other reason than he knew her job kept her busy, and his job kept him busy, too. But he wanted so desperately for her to answer, just so that she knew before she saw it on Twitter or read it in the newspaper the next day. He didn’t want Owen to be the one to tell her, either, because Ryan knew he would.

You’re injured again? I’m so sorry, Ryan.

Not injured. I got traded to the Leafs.

Ryan saw the pilot walk on to the plane, and shook his hand before he disappeared into the cockpit. His legged bobbed up and down quickly, waiting for another response. She wasn’t responding. He wondered if she was too shocked to respond. The fact that they’d finally be in the same place together after over ten years of being apart, only seeing each other in the summers, was enough to get his heart racing. He wanted to believe hers was, too.

The pilot came over the PA system and told everyone it was time to switch their phones to airplane mode. Ryan opened the conversation one last time. She still hadn’t responded.

About to fly. I’ll see you in Toronto, Whit. Right?

His leg kept shaking. He had to pretend he was messaging his mom and dad when Noel asked. Right before he switched on airplane mode, a text came through.

Of course. I can’t wait to see you. Come over when you can. I'll make sure to wear the lace you like.

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novankenn · 1 year

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Chp 1 - King of Kings

Yang didn't know what to expect, when she decided to follow her bummed out fellow blond into Vale proper. It was obvious to everyone on JNPR and RWBY that he was struggling in combat class. He just didn't seem comfortable using a sword and shield. It was almost like he was fighting some other type of training. But that wasn't the only reason she decided to follow him. It was during a few lunches ago, she had overheard several other students idly chatting. The underlying theme of the conversation being that Jaune apparently was famous or looked like someone famous.

So Yang did what any other curious teen would do. She jumped on the CCT-Net and attempted to search. Not sure how to start, she did the obvious and looked up his name. The results had been interesting to say the least. Jaune apparently unnaturally resembled a famous individual, even shared the same name. So instead of digging further or asking him directly, she decided to follow him. Which is how she found herself in line to purchase tickets to an event happening at the Vale Forum.

It took almost thirty minutes for her to get through the ticket lines, the concession lines and find her seat. Now Yang was not unfamiliar with combat sports, or similar shows; this however was her first foray into this type of venue. She was unprepared for it. The pure energy of the crowd was heart bursting. From the cheers and adulation to the boos and jeers, she felt it all resonate. She was getting caught up, and it didn't bother her in the least. She soon found herself joining in, sharing the highs and lows as the event progressed before her.

ANNOUNCER: Ladies and Gentlemen... making his debut in the Hardcore Division....

The crowd exploded around her, and she actively joined in as

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... tore over the forum's pa system. But then a figure stepped out on to the stage, and Yang dropped her drink. Her mouth open so wide in shock that she could have caught flies. There on the stage he stood, the sole reason she had made this trip into Vale. He was more muscled than she had given him credit for. In fact, he was put together, and put together well. Standing there with water droplets rolling down his physique. His mop of blond hair slicked back. He stood there in, wrists and hands wrapped in black tape, red and black calf high boots on his feet and black half leg tights proudly featuring the Valean Flag on the left thigh.

ANNOUNCER : The CROWN Prince of the Arc Dynasty...JAUNE ARC!!!!

Yang had yet to recover as the crowd literally exploded in excitement as Jaune took a sip from a water bottle in his hand; before throwing it over his shoulder into the crowd and stalking to the ring. He climbed into the squared circle and scaled the nearest corner. Perched on the second buckle, he spread his arms wide out to his sides and yelled, receiving an electrical response from the adoring crowd. Yang didn't even clue into whom Jaune was facing. The match flew past her eyes. All she could remember, all that stuck with her, was how fluid and sure of himself, Jaune was inside that ring. How impressive and dominating he turned out to be. The brutality of it did surprise her. Watching someone she knew as a lovable goof blasting someone upside the head with a folding steel chair; several times in quick succession. While also being on the receiving end of similar weapon strikes, and a head first crash through a ring side table. It was over before she could really process what was happening. One moment Jaune was stumbling around as if in a daze and the next...

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the CROWD surrounding Yang: VALEAN DESTROYER!!!!!

The holographic screens above the ring gave a picture-perfect view of Jaune's blood streaked face as he smirked while going for the pin and gaining the win.

--== Table of Contents ==--

#jaune arc #yang xiao long #professional wrestling #Jaune is part of a wrestling dynasty #been wanting to write/share this forever #the Arc family is THE Valean pro-wrestling family #Youtube

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truthin32bit · 5 months

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When Worlds Collide - The Early Merger Era of USCR

I remember when I was in high school I would always try and get my school's "Car Club" up and going. I'd post flyers, give announcements over the PA and ask the teacher lending us the room for help with ideas. Unfortunately it was only ever me and one other classmate who would occupy the classroom at lunch, never really finding a single person to share my rather obsessive interest with. There was this one other kid, a senior at the time, that would be at one of the computers in the class room looking at spotters guides of some sorts. At the time I was solely a NASCAR fan, not really paying much attention to other forms of motorsport. I knew Super GT existed thanks to Gran Turismo 5, and of course there was Formula 1 but I never feigned too much interest in it. So when I peeked at his screen I noticed that it was what known as the Tudor United Sports Car Championship at the time. Of course, I didn't know what it actually was at that time. My small little NASCAR infested brain had never heard of this series before -- and that's because it was a completely new idea, birthed from years of two separate American sports car series competing for the same audience throughout the 00s and early 10s. The American Le Mans Series was much like the rest of the ACO sanctioned championships across the globe, using state of the art prototypes and factory GT efforts to fill their grids. However, by the end of the ALMS era there was a clear struggle to fill the prototype grids, with only a literal couple of P1 entrants running in any given race weekend.

American Le Mans Series Cars speed around the hairpin turn during the Saturday afternoon race at the 35th Annual 2009 Toyota Grand Prix of Long Beach

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The Grand-Am Road Racing Series was the complete opposite of the sleek and sexy cars ready to travel to France every June. Their top class were these tube frame "prototurtles", which in their first year looked more Florida man rather than Florida endurance classic. However, what they did have in their pocket was the iconic Daytona 24, which throughout its years would play host to multiple big time NASCAR superstars hopping in to turn right for the first time in a few good months. Their GT cars were also a bit non-orthodox for that matter too -- whereas you had Porsches and Corvettes battling it out for top honors literally shoulder checking each other Grand Am boasted Pontiac GXPs and Mazda6s... though, admittedly they were also tube frame based machines.

So when the merger news came about, obviously it was a pretty big shock to everyone's system. I mean, how the heck would these two completely different types of series fit in with one another given that Daytona Prototypes were literally pieces of metal put together to look somewhat like a race car in comparison to the prohibitively expensive prototypes that literally no one could afford to run these days... but maybe that's what sports car racing needed. After years of having to recover from the sudden decline of the sport (thanks Bernie) everyone was kinda doing whatever the hell in their own corner, with the BPR scurrying off into their own corner trying to make their own flavor of sports car racing before getting blown up by some guys from Stuttgart that would create so much baggage for Stephane Ratel that he garnered a hate boner for factory teams, the ACO still hanging onto the Le Mans 24 with its ever changing prototype category that once literally got gamed by those same German assholes from Stuttgart a few years earlier, the guys in Japan having to make a completely new regulation after their prototype series just kinda died off which even led one team fielding a 962C against some Skylines... America just kind of had to go their own way. And we all know the trope of the USA saving the world.

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I mean, the mere sight of seeing these brute beasts with their loud and brash V8 motors running alongside these sleek and sexy prototypes is enough to get anyone the least bit interested just for the weird factor. The racing it gave wasn't too bad either.

The premise of these awkward Daytona Prototypes bumbling through the bumps of Sebring just like their European brethren is worth the price of admission itself. And we haven't even gotten to the rest of the field! You had the infamous Prototype Challenge category that would provide the race with its full course yellow quotas and almost down right dangerous levels of idiocy, but they're just honestly trying their best. Of course, there was also the ever iconic GTLM field with multiple factory GT teams duking it out going all touring car on each other battling for 2nd to last, while the GTD class derived from the Grand-AM GT category had its own oddities that would be simply wrong to look over. The 911 GT America is a car that seems to come out of someone's fever dream that I wouldn't be surprised if it came up in a /r/ThomasThePlankEngine post. There was also the R8 LMS with the teeny ass wing. I don't know why I remember that, but it's always so funny to see that specific car show up in Forza games when there's literally newer R8s to feature.

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Even the calendar itself was a "greatest hits" of both series, with both sides having to play on each other's grounds with the Daytona 24 and the 12 hours of Sebring being the big crown jewel events. Of course, you also had the rest of the endurance races that both series managed to carry over, the 6 Hours of the Glen from the Grand-Am side and the Petit Le Mans over on ALMS' side. Long Beach and Belle Isle were two street courses that both series brought along that would prove to be marquee events, and something of an interesting tidbit that I would be remiss to mention would be the Prototype Challenge only race at Kansas Speedway. Yeah. That layout. You know the one.

The Daytona Prototype mix of cars lasted up until the end of 2016, which would bring the beginning of the new era of sports car racing. While I don't have great opinions on the DPi platform, it nevertheless influenced the current resurgence of the prototype category, whilst the growth of the global GT3 regulation made up by our good friend Stephane Ratel would occupy the GTD category and would go on to encompass the entire field, becoming one of the many influences that would make it replace the declining GTE class as the top global grand touring class in the world. Indeed, the United part of the United Sports Car Championship really did become reality -- though it probably had a far bigger outreach than they initially expected. Or maybe it was their intention from the get-go. Who knows. Anyways, take a look at this Daytona Prototype.

#imsa #grand am #sports car racing #gran turismo #forza

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vinbee631 · 10 months

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17 - Being Back Here Makes Me Hot in the Face

Prodigal Sons and Daughters Alike

Virgil woke the following day to a text message from the school’s counselor.

The text itself wasn’t inherently surprising; instead of an annoying PA system, the staff opted for text reminders for ongoing events or fire drills. They seemed to think it was a more effective way to communicate, and most of the kids agreed.

So no, the notification wasn’t out of place. What was out of place was the second text, a direct message from the guy himself to Virgil alone.

Chapter title from Hot & Heavy by Lucy Dacus. This is the longest chapter, only because I literally had no idea how to split it somewhat evenly. Anyway, here is the apology you've been waiting for!!!

Virgil woke the following day to a text message from the school’s counselor.

So no, the notification wasn’t out of place. What was out of place was the second text, a direct message from the guy himself to Virgil alone.

He tensed instantly, rubbing at his tacky eyes and tapping on Dr. Picani’s name. Below the useless drone of stuff that didn’t apply to him in the announcements, sat a much more concise, yet excruciatingly more worrisome, text.

*When you have the opportunity, please meet me in my office. You aren’t in trouble! Just have something to discuss.

The reassurance of not being in trouble did nothing to stop the nervous flutter in Virgil’s chest and the way his breaths turned frantic. He huffed, counting off to himself as he stood, attempting to calm himself down as he got dressed.

Class wouldn’t start for another hour, and Dr. Picani had messaged him just over 5 minutes ago. He didn’t necessarily have to rush through the steps he took to get ready, but, well, he was already panicking.

He grabbed his bag and hefted it over his shoulders, haphazardly brushed out the wrinkles in his shirt, and rushed out the door.

Thankfully, he didn’t run into any of his roommates in his speed; he didn’t even think he could make eye contact anymore, much less spend a second talking to them before either snapping at them or doing something mortifying, like crying.

Last night had been… Virgil had a rough night. He couldn’t call it guilt, maybe dread, but the words Remus had said to him. How innocently he’d admitted it all. It made Virgil question whether he had been too harsh, but then he would cycle back through the anger, and any regret was gone in an instant.

He’d cried himself to sleep.

Virgil was… he was furious still, but also overwhelmingly upset. Confusion and hurt and confused about being hurt, and he wasn’t sure he would ever get over having his trust broken so severely, and he wasn’t even close with any of them, they’d barely had more than one conversation each!

It was… he didn’t know how to deal with losing friends he’d barely had in the first place. But now, he had to admit, he was growing attached to them. Why else would it be so hard to let them go?

He clenched his fist as he marched down the halls, accidentally glaring at someone who happened to give him a friendly wave.

Now was not the time for extroversion.

Virgil turned the corner to the staff offices in record time, hesitating when he reached Picani’s door. He still had no idea what this was about, or why it had to be today, or how the guy even remembered he existed, but here he was. At this point, he just wanted to get this over with so he could go sulk in his room for another day. Or three.

He carefully pushed the door open, making eye contact with a smiling Picani first, and a teary-eyed Remus second.

He slammed the door and ran.

…

Remus didn’t know how to cope with living through his actual nightmare scenario.

It, of course, had started with royally fucking up any chance he had at being Virgil’s friend. He spent nearly an hour blubbering about his failure to his ever-patient brother, who just sat with him and held him until he managed to stop crying.

That was kind of pathetic, but hey, no use dwelling on it now.

The twins sat down with the rest of their roommates that night to explain what happened and figure out what to do next. Remus knew there was no way he’d be able to approach Virgil personally to apologize, and giving him a note just seemed like salt in the wound, so he was out of ideas.

And honestly, he wasn’t keen on coming up with any more ideas any time soon. Not after… everything that went so desperately wrong.

Eventually, Patton suggested they go to Dr. Picani, as Remus had done just days before.

They couldn’t go right away, though. Office hours had ended, and Janus pointed out that Virgil definitely needed time to process his feelings alone before he could listen to and possibly accept an apology.

Remus wasn’t thrilled about it, but what else was he supposed to do? He could wait until the morning to make things right.

It didn’t help that he didn’t sleep a wink.

Oh, he tried, did his nightly stretches that he normally forgot to do, got up and went for a short walk to burn off some nervous energy, and lost count at 1,470-something sheep. Nothing worked.

Inevitably, he resigned himself to the sleeplessness, carefully exiting his room once more to brood in the living room.

He flopped onto the couch with a quiet huff, wincing at the creak in the springs. He wasn’t used to this, to feeling so hopeless. He didn’t run out of ideas, and his plans never failed in ways that were so completely irreversible.

Nothing was ever this… hopeless.

He just didn’t get it! He’d done all he could think to prove to Virgil that he could trust him, could open up to him, could spend time with him free of judgment. But his lack of trust ran so deep that nothing stuck.

Remus wanted to find whoever had broken Virgil’s trust and break them over his knee like a glowstick.

Ugh, no, getting off track, breaking spines was not going to solve any of his current problems, unfortunately. What he needed to do was figure out how he was going to apologize. Properly, and without the expectation that Virgil had to forgive him.

He knew exactly what he needed to say, the points he truly needed to get across, but he was so much better at premeditating and writing his thoughts down than coming up with something to talk about, in person, without any proofreading or second drafts.

Virgil deserved his best. So, he started writing.

This would be perfect, the best… what was it his public speaking teacher had called them? Extemporaneous speeches? No, those had papers… whatever, he was gonna memorize this shit in less than six hours and impress the hell out of her anyway.

That wasn’t the point, anyway, his public speaking teacher didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was Virgil, and making sure he knew Remus never meant to hurt him, and that he could be mad forever if he wanted, but Remus was sorry anyway.

It was only when the others began to rouse and found him pacing in the living room, reading over the harshly annotated paper in his hands, that Remus realized he spent all night on it.

Roman sighed, opening his arms for his brother when he spotted the nervous tic.

They sat for a bit, Roman flicking him genly on the forehead when he admitted to being up all night.

“I just…” Remus started lamely, “it’s gotta be perfect. For him. The one thing I haven’t… completely fucked up, I guess.”

Roman sighed. “I don’t think you need to worry about it being perfect, Ree. The fact you’re apologizing in the first place makes it perfect, yeah? Let’s just worry about him showing up first. Okay?”

Remus couldn’t really disagree with that, he supposed.

“Okay.”

The five set off for Dr. Picani’s office, arriving just as it opened, though thankfully, not as the counselor was arriving himself.

“Well. Good morning, boys. Why don’t you come in?” The five filed in after him, settling next to each other in the chairs scattered around the room, positioning themselves to surround Remus in support.

After a breath, Remus, for the second time in less than 24 hours, explained everything.

He started from the beginning this time, with the notes, how they set him up for failure. Virgil was so hesitant and so scared and Remus ached to help in any way he could.

Then, he fucked it up. And again. And again.

Dr. Picani (“Emile,” he insisted, “you really can just call me Emile”) tried to insist that it wasn’t his fault, but Remus didn’t care. It might not be inherently his fault, but that didn’t fix the hurt he caused.

“So now,” he admitted, “I need help fixing it. Or, at least, doing something more to help him than just making him uncomfortable.”

The counselor sighed. “Well, there’s not much I can do, in terms of speaking with him. I can’t imagine he would trust me any more than the five of you. However, I could try to get him to meet us here, and I can host a healthier, supervised conversation. I can’t force him to stay, but I can help him to try.”

A moment later, the boys hovered anxiously as they waited for Virgil to read the text and come greet them.

That anxiety turned into something much more bitter when he slammed the door on them.

“I’ll go talk to him. Alone, at first,” Dr. Picani reasoned as the boys jumped up to try and find him. “If he doesn’t agree, then we can’t force him to talk. Just remember that as long as you still care about him, this isn’t a lost cause. I’ll be back.”

With a bit of direction from a few concerned and observant students, Emile worked his way to the bathroom Virgil was hiding in.

“Hey,” he called quietly, sitting down by the only locked stall in the room. “Virgil? Is it alright if I talk to you for a moment?”

“Can’t stop you,” Virgil huffed through a shake in his voice.

“You can,” he gently insisted. “If you’re not comfortable, I will leave. Okay? No questions asked.”

Virgil scoffed again, but didn’t say anything else. Emile took that as a sign to keep going.

“Now, I want to apologize for what happened earlier. I can imagine it was quite overwhelming for you, and I didn’t exactly think through what that might look like if you didn’t know what was going on.”

He heard a short rustle of fabric, then a frustrated sigh. “‘S fine.”

“Clearly, it’s not. And it’s okay that it’s not, Virgil. I’m not here to make you uncomfortable, and neither are any of your roommates. They came to me this morning because they were worried about you and wanted to apologize.”

“I don’t… no, they don’t,” Virgil whispered.

“I promise, they do. You do not have to accept it, nor do you have to talk to them today, but… well, they were concerned enough about the situation that they came to me. Remus, especially. However, they also informed me they didn’t want to rush into apologizing to you. You should be able to take all the time you need to decide if you accept it or not.”

“They don’t care,” Virgil sniffed. “You’re lying. He… it’s all this… big, elaborate- trick. They won’t leave me alone… Leading me on so I… I trusted them, and he… I hate him, I think. For… for tricking me.

“None of them, wanted to spend time…they all just- convinced me… made me like them. And then… revealed it all, it was fake. Remus… he planned it all, it was fake!”

“I know it seems that way,” Emile soothed, shuffling closer to the door so he could lean against it. “Is therea reason you think they would? To me, that seems a waste of time, to put in the effort to find ways to show they care enough to seek out time with you, just to betray you in the end. But, it’s not my experience, it’s yours.”

“Because they… it’s like- bullying. It’s funny… to see someone- someone with no friends… attach, so easily. I think. I wouldn’t know, that’s… it’s fucked up,” Virgil insisted.

“Has Remus done something, in particular, to make it seem like his plans were supposed to hurt you?” He continued.

“I don’t… he… it’s everything! The whole thing! He… invited me to stuff I wasn’t comfortable with, then didn’t care when I said no, and just- asked about other stuff, I guess. Then… he couldn’t- I wouldn’t talk to him, so he got other people to do it for him! He tricked them into talking to me so I’d let my stupid guard down and he could do the same thing all over again!”

“Have you considered,” Emile started carefully, “that he kept asking questions because he wanted to get to know you? And, after seeing that it made you uncomfortable, he changed his approach to avoid making you more uncomfortable?”

“No,” he grunted, “because that’s wrong. That doesn’t make any sense. Why would he… why would they waste their time… trying to be friends with me? That doesn’t… they have plenty of other people that… actually care. About them,” he explained weakly.

“Then, why would they waste their time trying to pester that same person, if he didn’t care about them?” Emile countered.

Virgil didn’t respond for a while.

“I don’t get it,” he mumbled. “Why… if they care, which- dubious, at best. But… why would they… care about- me? It doesn’t… I’ve given them nothing. They get nothing from being around me.”

“I don’t think it has escaped your notice that your roommates, Remus in particular, are quite friendly. What they have to gain is a friend. That is what they ‘get’ when they are with you, they get a friend whom they enjoy being around and talking to.”

“I’m not… used to that,” he admitted. “No one’s ever… I don’t- have, friends. They don’t… people don’t- tend to stick around. So… why would they be the ones to… not do that?”

“I’m sorry to hear that, and I cannot answer that for sure. Trusting people is a vulnerable action, and it isn’t easy, especially if it hasn’t worked out in the past. However, it couldn’t hurt to listen to their apology and hear their reasoning, if you’re up for it. I’m sure they’d give you time to decide if you’re still willing to trust them or not if you asked for it.”

Virgil sat on that for a moment, then gave a decisive huff and stood. He quietly clicked the door open, and it swung in to reveal his tear-stained face. “Okay, I’ll talk to them. I better not regret it.”

“Okay,” he breathed, glancing up from his spot on the floor. “That’s great, Virgil. Do you need a minute?”

He shook his head, offering a hand to his teacher, allowing him to stand with only one of his knees cracking in the process. Nice.

“No, I should… I need to hear this from them. Before I… yeah. Let’s go.”

As the boy led the way back to the counselor's office, Emile couldn’t help but indulge in a little smile along the way.

There was hope for these boys yet.

…

Remus jumped from his seat the second Picani came back. Except, he wasn’t alone this time.

He tensed a little, running over the apology in his head once more. It had to be perfect, he needed to make things right. Not for his own sake: he needed Virgil to understand that he cared, that he never meant for things to go so wrong.

Before he could open his mouth to express that, however, Emile cut him off.

“So, before anyone starts, I guess I have some ground rules. As cathartic as it may be for you boys, I can’t sit here and allow you to scream at each other. I think you should lead the conversation on your own, and I trust you, but I will step in if things get too out of hand, understood?”

The boys nodded. “And, are you all staying for this part?”

Remus nodded. “Um… I’d be a bit more comfortable if everyone stayed. But, they don’t have to.” He turned to Virgil expectantly.

“That’s… okay. Not gonna say I love it, but… that’s cool,” he eventually decided.

“Alright, sounds good. I’m here if you need me, okay?”

The boys nodded, and Remus jumped at the chance before he lost it.

“I’m so sorry! I… I already said that, and it’s hard to make it meaningful when I did and said things that very blatantly made you uncomfortable. I never wanted that, ever. You’re so… I… I really care about you, Virgil, even if you couldn’t give two shits about me.”

Virgil frowned at his feet. “Not gonna lie, I’m still kinda pissed. I just don’t… you spent so much time. With… with the notes, and- and the… I’m sure the- the planning took… y’know, a while. I just don’t… understand, why?”

“I did it because I want to be your friend,” Remus answered honestly, matching what Picani had just reassured him of earlier.

Huh.

“You… we talked about you, the week leading up to when school started,” Remus continued. “We wer so… I was so curious. I wanted so badly for you to gel with the rest of us right away, but you didn’t, and I wanted to know why. I just… you seemed like you needed a friend, and you seemed cool. Should I have more justification than that?”

“So you pestered me endlessly for weeks?”

“...Basically, yeah. I’m not saying I’m proud of all of it, or that it was even a good idea. Honestly, at first, I thought you might be just- putting on a show of being uninterested, or like… I dunno, that being contrary was just- part of becoming your friend, so yeah, I made some big mistakes. But then, I- tried to find a way to fix that, to still get to know you without making you uncomfortable. And… well…”

“...I guess, that checks, but you could’ve just- told me that. Would’ve probably been easier that an elaborate scheme,” Virgil pointed out.

“I tried! I tried straight-up talking to you, and you either yelled at me or clammed up, and you looked so… scared. I couldn’t do that again. I couldn’t… I didn’t really know what to do, and leaving you alone seemed like… like I was giving up on someone that needed me.”

“I didn’t need…I’m here for school, not- not friends. I don’t actually care that much, I’m not- lonely, or whatever you seem to think.”

“Just because you don’t care doesn’t mean that I don’t,” Remus groused, wincing as the words came out of his mouth. “Er, sorry, but my point still stands. I mean, obviously, if you want me to leave you the fuck alone, I will. But… wouldn’t it be a little more fun, at least, to have something to do other than be married to school?”

“I… I don’t know. I’ve never…” Virgil trailed off, not sure how to address that particular fact of his life.

“Look, if you want me to not bother anymore, I will. But I promise, I was never trying to make you uncomfortable with the notes. I wasn’t leading you on in a friend way, and neither were any of the others. We all just… we like you, Virgil. You’re- you’re pretty cool.”

“...You promise?”

“Yes, definitely, Virgil. I promise.”

“...Well then… I guess, it wouldn’t be the worst thing, to- have friends.”

Remus jumped up and down in a circle, clapping his hands like Virgil had just performed something, for god’s sake.

“Yes! That’s great! I’m- yeah, really happy about that, can I hug you now?” Remus blurted.

“I…” Virgil expected to be more uncomfortable with the prospect, but actually being asked instead of forced… well.

Who was he to say no?

“Um, just- a quick one? Sure?”

Remus practically screeched, throwing himself forward to wrap his arms tightly around Virgil’s waist. He found the added pressure wasn’t actually as uncomfortable as he worried it would be.

It was actually… kinda nice, he guessed.

And then, he realized the prickly sensation of someone staring at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the others, expressions in various degrees of pleased (Logan) and overjoyed (Patton).

“Oh, come on, we all know you’re thinking about it,” Virgil grumbled, shifting slightly to wave them over. “Might as well get the sappy shit done now.”

Patton was first, obviously, but the others followed suit, cuddling up to surround Virgil in, what was probably a ridiculous-looking group hug.

“You guys do know this is an incredibly annoying and cheesy way to end this whole thing, right?” Janus pointed out.

“And yet, you’re still huggin’!” Remus rebutted with a smile, clinging to Virgil just a bit tighter.

“...Okay, fine, you got me there, enjoy your sitcom moment, then.”

The others chuckled, and okay, Virgil thought that maybe, this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#sanders sides fanfiction #tss storytime 2023 #cw cursing #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #emile picani #finale!!!

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undeadorion-archive · 4 months

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I worry I'm not very observant sometimes, then people prove to me that I'm doing just fine.

Earlier today I was at the store. The local variation on Kroger, so one of those places that is super strict on their employees. There'd been an announcement over the PA system that was all garbled and I couldn't make sense of it. I paid it no mind and went about my business. I wouldn't have even remembered it if not for what happened next.

This was not immediate. I had time to walk through several sections of the store. So at least a few minutes had passed. At this particular store, they've decided to use the electronics section to park the cards used for curbside orders, and I was trying to pick my way across to get into the electronics. Then I accidentally made eye contact with a guy on the other side of the carts trying to get through, as well.

He then started asking me about the weird garbled announcement, seeming to be worried if it would affect him in any way. But then he stopped mid-way through asking and said, "Do you work here?"

Now, I've made the mistake of wearing a red shirt when shopping at Target. So I know you can accidentally look like an employee. But for starters, I was pushing a cart full of groceries. And at this store, employees wear dark aprons with a name tag. I was not, if you can believe it, wearing an apron. But maybe this guy wasn't accustomed to this store and didn't know what the employee uniform was? Well, I had on a graphic teeshirt that had big bold letters on it saying "I don't like morning people or mornings or people." Even if he didn't read it, graphic tees aren't exactly standard employee attire. But on top of that (literally) I was wearing a denim jacket. A jacket covered all over in patches, pins, and FUCKING PYRAMID STUDS. It's a rather eye-catching jacket and people comment on it so damn often it's become a nuisance.

And yet somehow this guy looked directly at me, as me trying to navigate the mess outside the electronics section and somehow decided I was an employee of this moderately upscale hypermarket.

This far my attempts to create a "don't even think about talking to me" appearance has failed catastrophically.

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appl3-juice-box · 6 months

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Okay I have had a rough night and this thing fucking pisses me off

Fynne's friends always complain about how shitty their school is with handling things like self harm, accommodations and harassment but they have it so fucking good.

Because yeah, if a student has been reported for having slashes on their wrists, its gonna get to the parents, whether the parents are the problem or not. What else is the school supposed to fucking do? they legally cannot take control in that situation without parental consent, and if a child is /actively/ harming themselves, the school needs to let their caretakers know. Its not like the principal can follow you into your fucking house

They complain about how annoying it is that a friend of Fynne's keeps getting reported for sh that happened a bit ago and how they wish they didnt do anything cause its not their business but the fact that the school fucking cares is amazing. There was a kid who tried to kill themselves with an entire kitchen knife in the girls bathroom stall in my old schoo. You know what the office did with it? Jack shit. I /witnessed/ my ex try and kill himself and fail, and when it was reported, it took the school an hour to even fucking arrive to clean it. I was stabbed with a spork by my ex because if he killed me then killed himself we could die together and when I went to the nurse she gave me a tums and an ice pack for an open wound that was actively bleeding. A trans phobic boy brought a switchblade to school just so he could grab my arm and cut it, in front of the teachers, and then I was reprimanded for self harming in school. WHIKE HE WAS HOLDING THE FUCKING KNIFE

we had a gang rape incident. I was the only one in the group not raped, but they tried. They then announced who the victims were on the PA system the next day and publicly shamed them for dressing slutty. In school uniform.

My ex tried chloroforming me.

A friend of mine literally fucking threatened to bring a gun to school and wasnt even in trouble. A girl joked about killing either herself or me for 25¢ and that she had weapons at home and so she got sent to a mental hospital for 3 days and was diagnosed with autism. Had a boy get beat up in the bathroom and slip ajnd crack his head open on the toilet. A boy went around and sexually harassed every woman in the school, including the principal and 4th graders. girls got in trouble for dressing too slutty when they had frayed jeans at their ancles. We had a sub who was a pedo, he would lean over girls hug them and rub their sides when answering A question they had on their work sheet. He would sub in gym every so often and every time the girls caught him with an erection and staring at their butts as they squatted. This got reported by nearly every girl in school. He got a raise for staying "such a great sub when theres so much drama circulating about you". I would have such dreadful anxiety attacks in gym that I would actively harm myself, clawing my skin until it fell off or my friends pryed my fingers off of my own arms. In dodgeball, kids thought it was funny to target the kid who was frozen in panic and cause even more anxiety. I would go to the office after gym every day because you know, bloody fingers and arms and bruised abdomen and head, and they had me sit down for five minutes and go back to class without so much as a bandaid because I " did it to myself ". I had to fight for a 504 to take me out of PE. they had me sit on a bench all class, not removing me from the environment at all, and they only let me be an office aide after my mom threatened to sue the school and my therapist was trying to get the counselor and principal fired for their shitty behavior. This isnt even touching on the fucked up ness of another girl that I dont even want to fucking talk about

None of that stuff was ever addressed the way it should have been.

Here, the school calls in the student, asks them is there's anything they need, they have suicide help line numbers hung up every where. We have therapy dogs. I reported a guy for telling me I had nice tits and he got ISS, which is a lot more than me getting a slap on the wrist for having "nice tits"

Please don't complain about a shitty school to us. I know, the school system sucks ass and it needs to be better, but you all take things for granted. Just appreciate the fact that your counselor actually wants to interact with you for god sake

-Flint

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not-wholly-unheroic · 2 years

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Alright so I considered making this into a nice, long essay-style post but my thoughts aren’t really that organized so I’m just gonna do a sort of bullet point list on some of the little things about Spielberg’s Hook that I absolutely love.

Hook’s Costume & Cabin

Spielberg heard that Hook canonically resembles Charles II and went all out with it! Hoffman’s Hook, more than any other, looks like a gentleman straight out of the 1700s—the glorious red and gold coat, the fancy buckled shoes, the long curled wig tied with with ribbons and bows. The detail that went into his costume is amazing and I love how beautiful it is.

Everything about this Hook is over the top. Like royalty, he refuses to step down from his “throne” above the crew without Smee literally rolling out the red carpet for him. It’s very clear this Hook revels in finery. I mean look at his cabin. The man has not only the standard trappings of any 18th century nobleman’s home but even a miniature model of the island and a dang fireplace!

Is this ridiculous opulence in any way practical for a pirate? Absolutely not. Is it 100% accurate for Hook’s aesthetic and personality? Heck yes!

Neverland Bleeding into Reality

In stories like Peter Pan where there is both a “real world” setting and a magical realm, it’s always fun to look for little Easter eggs tying the two together so the audience is never quite sure how much is real and how much is imaginary. Neverland seeps into life in London in several places in this film. For example, on the plane, the voice that comes over the PA system and announces, “This is your Captain speaking…” is actually Hook himself—Dustin Hoffman.

Then there are some shots like this one, where Tootles, hearing Nana bark in the yard, recognizes that Hook is back. You probably noticed the ship in the bottle which is a replica of the Jolly Roger but did you catch the teddy bear?

Presumably we are looking at John’s top hat and glasses and Michael’s teddy bear from the original trip to Neverland…but if that wasn’t already meta enough, this same teddy bear shows up again later in the burnt out remains of the home underground when Peter is remembering why decided to grow up.

And this one might be a stretch but…early on in the film when we are getting a look at the pirate ship, we see a broom head beside a bottle that Tink is hiding behind.

Later, near the end of the film when Peter wakes up in Kensington Gardens and hears what he believes is Tink’s jingling, we see it’s actually Mr. Smee (Or is it?!) sweeping up some glass bottles that are clinking together.

Play-Acting and the Metaverse

Speaking of meta…this film has so many nods to the original. There’s the opening play with Maggie in the role of young Wendy, the painting of Hook in the dinghy that graces the bedroom wall, the latch on the window in the shape of the iron claw, Granny Wendy reading from the novel, and the whole Great Ormond Street Hospital scene. It’s nuts. (And by that I mean I love the attention to detail.)

But more than that, the entire film is set up like a sort of play. For example, when Peter arrives on the island, he is wrapped up in the sheet/parachute and his first view of Neverland is revealed when he pokes a hole in the sheet with his finger and begins ripping it apart. He’s literally parting the curtain for the audience here.

And everybody in Neverland is playing at being someone they are not. Tink plays dress-up and is very briefly the woman of Peter’s dreams—the woman she wishes she was but knows she really isn’t. Rufio is playing at being a fierce warrior who doesn’t need any parental figure—until he lays dying in Peter’s arms and admits that he wishes he had a father like Pan. And when the wig comes off, Hook—who in his usual attire comes off as an intimidating and dashing pirate captain—is reduced to little more than a pitiful old man who is past his prime.

Even Neverland itself is set up like the background one might see during a set change in a play with a giant compass rose and map lines visible in a flyover shot.

Hook and Pan’s Role Reversal

Another really intriguing aspect of this film to me is the way it totally flips the original on its head. Peter, who in the original is the fun, mischievous boy who steals away the Darling children, has become the workaholic adult who has no time for childish nonsense. That much is rather obvious but what is a bit subtler is that Hook’s role is somewhat reversed too. In most versions of the original, Hook and Mr. Darling are played by the same actor—Hook being a sort of fictionalized counterpart to Wendy’s rather serious and sometimes hotheaded father. Here, Peter has taken on the role of Mr. Darling as the “boring” adult and Hook, after stealing the children, becomes the “fun” father figure—to Jack, at least.

Theme of Belief

Last but not least, there is the theme of “believe hard enough and it will come true.” Much like in the original, flight requires belief for it work and the Lost Boys’ imaginary food is only actually filling if you believe it’s there. But what’s interesting to me here is that it isn’t just positive things that one seems able to believe into existence in this Neverland. For a long time, I thought Hook’s death in this version of the story was a bit of a cop-out. It seemed like having the (long-dead) crocodile come back to end Hook’s life was simply a way for the writers to avoid having Peter get his hands dirty. But then it occurred to me…if belief could brink Tink back from the point of death, why couldn’t it bring back the crocodile? Fear is an incredibly strong emotion that can often make the most rational among us have very strong irrational beliefs… I have now come to the conclusion that, in the moment when Hook heard all the clocks going off, his fear level was so amped up that he actually believed he was going to die the way he always thought he would—gobbled up by the giant ticking crocodile—and in a land of make-believe where anything is possible, that belief was strong enough to bring the crocodile back from the dead just long enough for it to do exactly what the captain expected it to. Ironically—and perhaps sadly—if this is the case, Hoffman’s Hook sealed his own fate.

So…I guess all of that is to say that while Hook may have its flaws, I love the research that went into the film. It’s clear that a lot of love for the original and a lot of effort went into the filmmaking process and that definitely gets some major brownie points from me.

#Captain Hook #captain james hook #james hook #hoffman hook #hook 1991 #captain hook dustin hoffman #steven speilberg #speilberg hook #robin williams

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theorderofthetriad · 1 year

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Do u have any venture bros movie hcs

Biggest headcanon is that Dean admits he's not straight and in love with Jared. Which feels like it's self explanatory, but also i might just be curse of knowedging here based on the "which ship will become canon" poll i made where Jared/Dean got like 6 percent

Second biggest headcanon is Brock admits he's not straight and that he's in love with Rusty. Which I'm thinking because of how absolutely dissatisfied with his life he is in the series finale. He literally announces it over the PA system to the guild operatives that he's about to kill. And also because of in Bot-Seeks-Bot when Rusty is on the wheel of torture and Brock decides to risk the mission, his own safety, and the relationship between the OSI and the guild just to save Rusty, and Shore Leave tries to talk him out of it, and refers to Rusty as "your old sugar daddy."

Third biggest headcanon is the Dean Dermot roadtrip. because i want them to talk to each other!!

Fourth biggest headcanon is monarch a trois happens and i'm basing that off the cuck chair we see in the movie set stills that got posted:

i mean, it's a single chair facing the bed, not like, two chairs and a table for a reading nook, and the monarchs have canonically participated in cuckoldry so...

#sorry these are mostly shipping based i have brainrot #venture bros

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quokkacore · 3 years

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lost and found [bang chan]

summary: looking for your soulmate is difficult to do when you’re also looking after your daughter. but on a chance shopping trip, when you lose her, you end up finding her, and your soulmate, whose soft smile and cute dimples offer a lot of promise.

pairing: musician!chan x singlemom!reader

genre: soulmates au, slice of life, meet-cute, holiday special-ish?, fluff, minor angst towards the beginning.

warnings: brief mentions of kidnapping, language, eating

song rec: exo - wait // chen - shall we?

word count: 2.1k

a/n: helena writing something that isnt angsty or smutty? apparently thats possible. december is gonna be pure winter fics says the girl who lives in a country where its SUMMER but go off and i’m posting a two part exo fic tht i’m rlly excited for on christmas eve and christmas day, so pls look forward to tht ^^

It only took a minute. It felt like even less. You turned your head to look for a sales employee, and let go of your 4 year old daughter’s hand to grab the hand she was holding onto to look through the shirts you were going through. Your eyes and hands were off of Annie for the briefest of moments, and when you reached out again, when you turned your head to look downward… gone. Like the wind.

That had been ten minutes ago. Now, you were wandering around the department store like you had gone crazy. To a certain degree, you had. Don’t panic if you lose sight of your kid, all the parenting articles had said. So naturally, you were doing exactly that. Once your mind got the gears turning, it was hard to get them to stop. Your inner pessimist was already whispering to you, what if she left the building? What if some creep snatched her up? What if she had gotten hurt?

Why couldn’t you have just stayed home on your day off? Why did you have to decide to haul yourself and your daughter along to the mall to do your holiday shopping today? You were immediately beginning to regret every decision you’d made in the past few hours, tears prickling in your eyes and a lump beginning to grow in your throat.

You wondered vaguely if she’d left the department store and was now wandering around the mall. That could be an entirely different possibility. You’d gone around the department store twice now, not seeing a single sight of her. Your grip tightened on her winter coat—which she had given to you when it got too warm for her from being inside—and started looking for a security guard instead. Maybe they could call out to the other security guards in the mall and keep a lookout.

Just as you spotted one, beginning to think of what you could say to give a physical description—her hair and eye color, which were both the same as your own, the red t-shirt she had on, the jeans, her height—a notification bell rang throughout the department store on the speaker system.

“To Annie’s mom, Y/N,” The woman on the PA system said, “Your daughter is at the help desk at the north entrance of the building.”

A swell of relief swept through you as she repeated the announcement one more time, and your feet, of their own volition, started towards the exit of the department store. What a fucking relief. You had entered toward that side of the building; meaning, yes, she’d left the store, but she hadn’t gone too far. Your heart was racing, sprinting towards the entrance. Your eyes darted back and forth, desperately waiting for the desk to come into sight as you rounded the corner.

When you turned, your eyes caught sight of your little girl, Annie, standing in front of the desk, teary-eyed, next to a young man in a black hoodie, watching her quietly. Your feet sped up, and when you were about fifteen feet away from the desk, your daughter turned her head to the sound of quick feet making a mad dash across the floor. Her eyes widened, and her little feet shot in your direction. “Mommy!”

She ran up to you, and you crouched to grab her in your arms, engulfing her in a hug that felt like it was more for your sake than for hers. You could feel a giant weight falling off of your shoulders as he sniffled against your shoulder. You found yourself having to blink tears out of your eyes. Pulling away a few seconds later, you wiped away a stray tear trickling down your little girl’s cheek.

“Honey, you can’t just walk away from me like that,” You murmured shakily, “I was so worried.”

“‘M sorry, mommy,” She sighed in a small voice, lower lip wobbling. Your heart clenched at how upset she was, and you put your hand on her cheek to calm her down. “Wanted t’go look at the toys. But I didn’t see you ‘nymore after.”

You sighed, pursing your lips. “I’m so glad you’re safe. How did you find your way to the desk?”

Annie turned her head, wide eyes fixing on the man in the oversized hoodie. Dark, frizzy curls paired with eyes of the same color, warm and welcoming, watching your interaction with his elbow propped up against the desk. “He helped me. Showed me where t’go.”

Your eyes met the man’s, and you stood slowly, holding onto Annie’s hand. You made your way over to him, flashing him a small friendly smile. “Annie says you helped her find her way here? I can’t thank you enough. I was this close to losing my mind.”

He let out a quiet laugh, nodding sympathetically. “I can imagine,” He replied, revealing a deep Australian accent, “I remember when I was a kid, my little sister got lost at the supermarket. My mum just ‘bout went nuts looking for her, and she was only missing for like five minutes. When I saw your daughter all alone, I got this horrible feeling, and I remembered my mum… I couldn’t just leave her there, y’know?”

You laughed. “Kids,” You sighed warmly, “You can’t take your eyes off of them, not even for a second. But honestly, thank you, uh, Mr…?”

He smiled, and as your other turbulent emotions began to subside, you realized he was insanely cute, taking note of his rosy, heart-shaped lips and his dimple. “Bang Chan. Uh, but just Chan is fine! Really.”

“Chan,” you repeated, your smile growing. You turned your head to look down at Annie. “And, what do we say to Chan for helping you, Annie? Sweetie...?”

But she didn’t seem to be listening to you. She was too busy gawking at your hand, which was holding onto her little one. You furrowed your brows, eyes falling to where she was looking, before your mouth fell open.

This was the last thing you were expecting, you thought, as your eyes fell upon the red string tied around your finger, eyes trailing forward, forward, until they made their way to Chan’s index finger, and then even further, meeting Chan’s eyes, which were wide as saucers. Evidently, he hadn’t been expecting this either.

“Mommy,” Annie said, confused, “That string just showed up out of nowhere. Like magic!”

It was your turn to not answer now, too in shock, blinking stupidly at Chan, who was doing the same. It felt like an out of body experience, unable to stop your mouth from gaping like a fish, while watching you and this ridiculously charming, handsome-for-absolutely-no-reason man come to the realization that the universe had tied you together, quite literally.

“I-I…” You choked out, unable to speak. Oh my god, you idiot, you thought, say something! Don’t just stare!

“Mommy.” Annie’s free hand was tugging on your long, brown winter coat now, which snapped you out of your idiotic gawking. You looked down at her, and her eyes were glittering with excitement. “The string! ‘S’the one you told me about last week! Th’one that shows up when you meet your… your… snow mate!”

That seemed to truly snap you out of it, for some reason, and you let out a sound somewhere between a cough and a laugh.

“Annie, I think you mean soulmate.”

“Yeah, that!” She started jumping up and down, and your face grew a crooked smile. You looked back at Chan, who was watching the interaction warmly. His eyes met yours when he realized you were looking at him, and he smiled at you in a way that made your heart do an anxious little tap dance, like he had known you for years and wanted to catch up.

In a way, it was true.

“So…” You said, “You said your name was Chan?”

He giggled a little at your breathless tone, and you grinned giddily. You felt like a teenager. It was honestly a bit embarrassing.

“You wanna get some lunch? My treat.” He sounded insistent, but his eyes were still creased up with his welcoming smile. “I insist.”

“What are the odds?” You asked with a smile, having finished your lunch—some pizza from the mall Chan had insisted on paying for—a few minutes ago, now watching Annie run around over on the indoor playground with some other kids there. Chan was sitting across from you at the table. “The last thing I was expecting was to find you, y’know?”

“I think there was a higher priority on your list of things you needed to find at the moment.”

“Ha, ha,” You deadpanned, “You’re hilarious. Tell another one.”

“Alright, what do you call a—”

“No!” You said with a giggle. “I heard enough earlier when you told me the one about the yakuza and the jacuzzi.”

Chan laughed gleefully, resting his chin on his hand. The string had since disappeared—they disappeared some ten minutes after meeting your soulmate. “But really, it is pretty crazy. I read a few weeks ago that only 3 out of every 10 people actually manage to find their soulmates.”

He didn’t respond but his eyes studied your face, gaze fixated on the bridge of your nose. “Call me biased,” He murmured, “But you’re very beautiful.”

You looked down, feeling your face heat up. “Thank you. You’re pretty handsome yourself.”

“Ah, thank you.” It was Chan’s turn to smile bashfully, the tips of his ears turning red. He looked down at his hands, which were on the table. A brief silence settled over the both of you, and you pondered over how he had been during lunch, gentle in his questioning but also incredibly sweet whenever Annie said something or asked a question, and how he always looked genuinely interested in what she had to say.

As a single mom, you never really had time to date. But both times that you given it a try, they didn’t seem to care about Annie or what she had to say. But here, now, Chan had been so happy to explain how he made music when she asked, or let her have the last slice of pizza, and it didn’t come across as disingenuous. It didn’t have the slightly condescending lilt some people put on to talk to younger children. He didn’t speak slowly and loudly, but he was aware that he needed to simplify his language given that she was still a little kid. He took things at her pace, and you could see that Annie warmed up to him instantly.

Still, you were a little wary.

“Look,” You said softly, eyes turning to the playground, looking for Annie. When you found her, chasing a little boy around, you smiled softly. “I’m really excited to have found you, Chan. It’s something I’ve always wanted but never expected. But… y’know, I’m a mom, above everything else. Ever since she was born, Annie’s been, and always will be my number one priority. I need you to understand that.”

You met his eyes again, and they had turned more serious, attentive to your words. “I totally understand that, Y/N. I wouldn’t want to come between you and her, and I don’t expect you to drop everything for me. Especially if it involves Annie.”

“Thank you,” You answered softly, nodding. “It’s hard for her. Her dad and I broke up a few months after she was born, and she sees him maybe once or twice a year. She’s in such an important age for her development, and needs me just as much as I need her, y’know?”

He nodded again, humming in accordance. “Of course. I’m totally willing to wait if you’re not ready yet, or if you want to set certain boundaries for her wellbeing... Whatever you feel is best for her.”

Slowly, his hand made its way to rest on top of yours. He was almost cautious about it, brushing his fingers gently against your knuckles. “You really made my day.” His voice was warm, eyes full of mirth. You smiled. “You made mine too. Because I found my soulmate and you stopped me from having a heart attack by saving the day and finding Annie. I’m never gonna thank you enough for that.”

He laughed. “I’m glad I was able to help. It led me to you.”

Lowering your head as your heart skipped a beat, you looked at his hand on yours, then at Annie, and finally back at him. A rosebud of hope began to bloom in your chest.

Seeing his dimples as his eyes shone, you had a solid feeling it wouldn’t ever wilt.

taglist: @decembermoonskz

#rebootkpopnet #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #kpop fluff #kpop au #kpop scenarios #skz scenarios #skz x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #kpop angst #skz angst #stray kids angst #my writing

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volcanolotus · 2 years

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Shiftylook Mappy bits that are the best bits in like no order bc I'm awake and I can't think about any other piece of media

The final moments of the last day of Mappy's career

The third act of episode 1

The candy academy conversation

Literally any "Albatross? ............. No"

POV: You find out your boss is a cosplayer

"Prince out"

Mappy and Dig Dug singing to a katamari for two minutes

The entire segment of Mappy and Dig Dug under the building setting off the world's worst traps and not encountering a dangerous one at all

"I can hear you laughing maniacally!"

Goro on top of his desk (the most cat like thing he's done) because he was scared by something crawling over his foot

Also right before that, him specifically calling Mappy for help

The entire conversation that took place after the building is ninja cursed

Tarosuke cleansing Nyamco offices

Goro laughing maniacally on the PA system. That's the whole announcement that day.

Mappy using a trampoline to access a higher floor of a museum (not special but it made me really happy)

Dig Dug criticizing law enforcement

Mappy's nightmare

Dig Dug spontaneously coming up with a team name and the way Mappy reacts to it

Finding Goro's hoard of stolen museum artwork

"I'd like to call to the stand Diglas D. Duglas"

Skykid's testimony

Goro cross examining himself

The chuffed conversation

Mappy and Dig Dug looking into a rectangle you'd assume is some complicated thing and then Mappy's like "can you hack it?" And it's actually just a red button.

The third act of the finale

#mappy #mag mumbles #i wish i caould think other thoughts #no i don't im having a blast

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itrvlr · 3 years

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AN AMAZING STORY...

Here is an amazing story from a flight attendant on Delta Flight 15, written following 9-11

On the morning of Tuesday, September 11, we were about 5 hours out of Frankfurt, flying over the North Atlantic .

All of a sudden the curtains parted and I was told to go to the cockpit, immediately, to see the captain. As soon as I got there I noticed that the crew had that "All Business" look on their faces. The captain handed me a printed message. It was from Delta's main office in Atlanta and simply read, "All airways over the Continental United States are closed to commercial air traffic. Land ASAP at the nearest airport. Advise your destination."

No one said a word about what this could mean. We knew it was a serious situation and we needed to find terra firma quickly. The captain determined that the nearest airport was 400 miles behind us in Gander, New Foundland.

He requested approval for a route change from the Canadian traffic controller and approval was granted immediately -- no questions asked. We found out later, of course, why there was no hesitation in approving our request.

While the flight crew prepared the airplane for landing, another message arrived from Atlanta telling us about some terrorist activity in the New York area. A few minutes later word came in about the hijackings.

We decided to LIE to the passengers while we were still in the air. We told them the plane had a simple instrument problem and that we needed to land at the nearest airport in Gander , New Foundland, to have it checked out.

We promised to give more information after landing in Gander .. There was much grumbling among the passengers, but that's nothing new! Forty minutes later, we landed in Gander. Local time at Gander was 12:30 PM .... that's 11:00 AM EST.

There were already about 20 other airplanes on the ground from all over the world that had taken this detour on their way to the US.

After we parked on the ramp, the captain made the following announcement: "Ladies and gentlemen, you must be wondering if all these airplanes around us have the same instrument problem as we have. The reality is that we are here for another reason."

Then he went on to explain the little bit we knew about the situation in the US. There were loud gasps and stares of disbelief. The captain informed passengers that Ground control in Gander told us to stay put.

The Canadian Government was in charge of our situation and no one was allowed to get off the aircraft. No one on the ground was allowed to come near any of the air crafts. Only airport police would come around periodically, look us over and go on to the next airplane.

In the next hour or so more planes landed and Gander ended up with 53 airplanes from all over the world, 27 of which were US commercial jets.

Meanwhile, bits of news started to come in over the aircraft radio and for the first time we learned that airplanes were flown into the World Trade Center in New York and into the Pentagon in DC.

People were trying to use their cell phones, but were unable to connect due to a different cell system in Canada . Some did get through, but were only able to get to the Canadian operator who would tell them that the lines to the U.S. were either blocked or jammed.

Sometime in the evening the news filtered to us that the World Trade Center buildings had collapsed and that a fourth hijacking had resulted in a crash. By now the passengers were emotionally and physically exhausted, not to mention frightened, but everyone stayed amazingly calm.

We had only to look out the window at the 52 other stranded aircraft to realize that we were not the only ones in this predicament.

We had been told earlier that they would be allowing people off the planes one plane at a time. At 6 PM, Gander airport told us that our turn to deplane would be 11 am the next morning.

Passengers were not happy, but they simply resigned themselves to this news without much noise and started to prepare themselves to spend the night on the airplane.

Gander had promised us medical attention, if needed, water, and lavatory servicing.

And they were true to their word.

Fortunately we had no medical situations to worry about. We did have a young lady who was 33 weeks into her pregnancy. We took REALLY good care of her. The night passed without incident despite the uncomfortable sleeping arrangements.

About 10:30 on the morning of the 12th a convoy of school buses showed up. We got off the plane and were taken to the terminal where we went through Immigration and Customs and then had to register with the Red Cross.

After that we (the crew) were separated from the passengers and were taken in vans to a small hotel. We had no idea where our passengers were going. We learned from the Red Cross that the town of Gander has a population of 10,400 people and they had about 10,500 passengers to take care of from all the airplanes that were forced into Gander!

We were told to just relax at the hotel and we would be contacted when the US airports opened again, but not to expect that call for a while.

We found out the total scope of the terror back home only after getting to our hotel and turning on the TV, 24 hours after it all started.

Meanwhile, we had lots of time on our hands and found that the people of Gander were extremely friendly. They started calling us the "plane people." We enjoyed their hospitality, explored the town of Gander and ended up having a pretty good time.

Two days later, we got that call and were taken back to the Gander airport. Back on the plane, we were reunited with the passengers and found out what they had been doing for the past two days.

What we found out was incredible.....

Gander and all the surrounding communities (within about a 75 Kilometer radius) had closed all high schools, meeting halls, lodges, and any other large gathering places. They converted all these facilities to mass lodging areas for all the stranded travelers.

Some had cots set up, some had mats with sleeping bags and pillows set up.

ALL the high school students were required to volunteer theirtime to take care of the "guests."

Our 218 passengers ended up in a town called Lewisporte, about 45 kilometers from Gander where they were put up in a high school. If any women wanted to be in a women-only facility, that was arranged.

Families were kept together. All the elderly passengers were taken to private homes.

Remember that young pregnant lady? She was put up in a private home right across the street from a 24-hour Urgent Care facility.There was a dentist on call and both male and female nurses remained with the crowd for the duration.

Phone calls and e-mails to the U.S. and around the world were available to everyone once a day. During the day, passengers were offered "Excursion" trips.

Some people went on boat cruises of the lakes and harbors. Some went for hikes in the local forests.

Local bakeries stayed open to make fresh bread for the guests.

Food was prepared by all the residents and brought to the schools. People were driven to restaurants of their choice and offered wonderful meals. Everyone was given tokens for local laundry mats to wash their clothes, since luggage was still on the aircraft.

In other words, every single need was met for those stranded travelers.

Passengers were crying while telling us these stories. Finally, when they were told that U.S. airports had reopened, they were delivered to the airport right on time and without a single passenger missing or late. The local Red Cross had all the information about thewhereabouts of each and every passenger and knew

which plane they needed to be on and when all the planes were leaving. They coordinated everything beautifully.

It was absolutely incredible.

When passengers came on board, it was like they had been on a cruise. Everyone knew each other by name. They were swapping stories of their stay, impressing each other with who had the better time. Our flight back to Atlanta looked like a chartered party flight. The crew just stayed out of their way. It was mind-boggling.

Passengers had totally bonded and were calling each other by their first names, exchanging phone numbers, addresses, and email addresses.

And then a very unusual thing happened.

One of our passengers approached me and asked if he could make an announcement over the PA system. We never, ever allow that. But this time was different. I said "of course" and handed him the mike. He picked up the PA and reminded everyone about what they had just gone through in the last few days.

He reminded them of the hospitality they had received at the hands of total strangers.

He continued by saying that he would like to do something in return for the good folks of Lewisporte.

"He said he was going to set up a Trust Fund under the name of DELTA 15 (our flight number). The purpose of the trust fund is to provide college scholarships for the high school students of Lewisporte.

He asked for donations of any amount from his fellow travelers. When the paper with donations got back to us with the amounts, names, phone numbers and addresses, the total was for more than $14,000!

"The gentleman, a MD from Virginia , promised to match the donations and to start the administrative work on the scholarship. He also said that he would forward this proposal to Delta Corporate and ask them to donate as well.

As I write this account, the trust fund is at more than $1.5 million and has assisted 134 students in college education.

"I just wanted to share this story because we need good stories right now. It gives me a little bit of hope to know that some people in a faraway place were kind to some strangers who literally dropped in on them.

It reminds me how much good there is in the world."

"In spite of all the rotten things we see going on in today's world this story confirms that there are still a lot of good people in the world and when things get bad, they will come forward.

*This is one of those stories that need to be shared. Please do so...*

#never forget #9/11

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