#things to eat in Rhode Island

[wolfwarrior142]

My family has 26 chickens with only 3 people here and..yeah. Yeah lol. We have So Many Eggs.

Anon eats 6–8 eggs daily (scrambled, on toast), and their friends say this isn't normal. Anon has 12 chickens so there are always plenty of eggs available at virtually no cost.

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[moontyger]

The U.S. seems only to understand pregnancy as a distinct and fragile state. For the expectant, we issue reams of proscriptions—more than can reasonably be followed. We tell them what to eat and what not to eat. We ask that they visit the doctor regularly and that they not do any strenuous activity. We give them our seats on the bus. Finally, once they’ve actually undergone the physical trauma of it, their bodies thoroughly depleted, we beckon them most immediately to rejoin the rest of us. One New York mother summed up her recent postpartum experience this way: “You’re not hemorrhaging? OK, peace, see you later.”

The Chinese traditionally adhere to 30 days of restful confinement—another week for a C-section—during which time moms are meant to consume lactation-inducing soups and herbal tonics and abstain from sex and cold water. In Mexico, the ritualized interlude, or the cuarentena, goes for 40 days, or long enough for the womb to return to its place. Balinese women are not allowed to enter the kitchen until the baby’s cord stump has fallen. Dutch maternity nurses make postpartum visits every day for the eight days after childbirth, and in France, as elsewhere, new moms spend nearly a week in hospital.

Always, the mothers are educated as they convalesce; they’re taught to breast-feed, to manage baby rashes and bath time and sore nipples. Rarely are they first to respond to the infant’s shrieking. In 2011 I visited a luxury postpartum center in Taipei, where women of means (and who would rather not call on their mothers-in-law, as is custom) spend a month in recovery. When I asked Tsai Ya-hui, who had given birth to her first child three weeks earlier, what she did all day in her high-end suite, she answered: “Internet and sleep. That’s about it.” She looked more refreshed than I did.

There are elements of these postpartum practices (the consumption of foods rich in iron) that are common-sensical, and there are others (tightly wrapping the belly with a postnatal girdle; consuming distilled rice wine in place of water; extremely limited exposure to the sun in the first month), the usefulness and safety of which are debated by the medical community. But the thing to focus on here is the idea of a culturally recognized and accepted postpartum rest period. With these rituals comes an acknowledgment, familial and federal, that the woman needs relief more at this time than at any other—especially if she has a career to return to—and that it takes weeks, sometimes months, to properly heal from childbirth. An acknowledgement that overexertion after labor could lead to depression, infection, increased uterine bleeding, or prolapse. An acknowledgment that the postpartum stretch shouldn’t feel, as it did for so many of the American women who took part in my informal survey, like one long sleepless night.

“A culturally accepted postpartum period sends a powerful message that’s not being sent in this country,” said Dr. Margaret Howard, the director of the Day Hospital for Postpartum Depression in Providence, Rhode Island. “American mothers internalize the prevailing attitude—‘I should be able to handle this myself; women have babies every day’—and if they’re not up and functioning, they feel like there’s something wrong with them.” A colleague of Howard’s, the daughter of a pediatrician, brought her prepregnancy jeans to the delivery room, expecting to slip into them once the baby was out.

I spent part of an afternoon with some new mothers in Park Slope, an affluent Brooklyn neighborhood that is frequently and teasingly associated with over-the-top urban parenting. As a group, they’d received probably the best postpartum care that this country has to offer, which they detailed over the squeals and sighs of their nursing infants. Sophia Sotto had hired a postpartum doula, but didn’t feel comfortable “asking her to do the dishes in the sink.” She remembered: “I still couldn’t manage when to shower, when to eat.” Sarah Hake had an episiotomy and still, like every woman in America, was asked to come in for a 15-minute checkup six weeks after leaving the delivery room. “Six weeks is too late,” she said. The rest murmured their agreement.

All had cooked; all had cleaned. Asked Emily Lillywhite, “If you don’t get up and do it, who will?” One woman had taken an especially long walk two days after delivering, because she wanted to “feel normal again.” Most had been afraid to survey the wreck between their legs, and those who did look hadn’t been able to tell if they were healing well or not. “Google became my very good friend,” said Ruth Margolis. “Yes,” Sotto broke in. “Your postpartum support is the Internet.”

I heard stories of women vacuuming upon arriving home after a day and a half in the hospital; of new moms waiting until the six-week checkup to make their postnatal complications known; of visitors turning up and instantly asking for coffee; of lactation consultants who were meant to, but did not, take insurance; of a postpartum doula who, when she was summoned by a mother one month postlabor, said, “You’re too far along to need me.”

A popular site that advises women on how to find and work with a baby nurse counsels: “Ask your baby nurse what she likes to eat and stock up at the supermarket.” It is true that hiring a postpartum helper is far less expensive in, say, Hong Kong than in the U.S. But the problem is not one of money. The problem is that no one recognizes the new mother as a recuperating person, and she does not see herself as one. For the mourning or the injured, we will activate a meal tree. For the woman who is torturously fatigued, who has lost one 10th of her body’s blood supply, who can scarcely pee for the stitches running up her perineum, we will not.

[cerastes]

Legitimately can't stop thinking about the brilliance of Degenbrecher's introduction as a playable character.

We've known Degenbrecher for a long, long time before this event, and even before Break The Ice, actually: Before Arknights even released, Gnosis and Degen can be seen in this pre-launch trailer at 0:14.

Degenbrecher existed for years as this larger-than-life figure shrouded in rumor and fame, with an almost supernatural countenance to her presence in the corner of the narrative she inhabits: The three-time Grand Champion of the Kazimierz Major, the dreaded Black Knight, the peerless warrior, who has the strength of ten knight companies on her shoulders alone. Spoken of in equal parts awe and fear, her stint in the knightly competitions were legendary in how one-sided they were whenever she took to the field, and Platinum even comments that her portraits on the gallery of champions all make it seem like she doesn't even age, adding a supernatural element to her legacy. All we know is that she's currently SilverAsh's bodyguard and no doubt part of why his faction is so formidable, as it would be for anyone who has a one-woman army on their payroll. When we are finally introduced to her formally in the narrative, she's all business, no non-sense, in the middle of her job, and boy howdy is she good at it: We know the kind of juice Rhodes Island Elite Operators have, they are really, really strong, and yet all Sharp can do is stall for time against her, with tacit understanding that no matter how much he tries, he is NOT overcoming her.

There is not a single thing anyone present on Doc's side can do to actually overcome Degenbrecher during Break The Ice, so the very best thing anyone could do was stall her. THAT is the winning move, or at least as close to one. She's that formidable, and then some. We only see her in business mode here, with a small glimpse to her more noble nature in that she is nothing but non-self aggrandizing compliments for Sharp for being able to even fight her, even if there is no chance he can beat her, because most people just take a single swing from her. When Doc's plan succeeds and we reach the climax, she simply sheathes, says "Well played", SA recalls her back to her pokeball, and we are left letting out a sigh of relief that we made it in time.

Then, for some more years after that, that's our impression of her: Unsurmountable. We don't know much more about her other than she is simply not someone you measure up to. This, by itself, isn't particularly unique, both as a concept or in the cast of Arknights, but it leaves you to wonder exactly what is she beyond being Unsurmountable. Who is she, actually?

Then, The Rides to Lake Silbernherze happens, where she is the main character, and after all those years of mystique and grandeur, of guessing and wondering, we finally can see her not as a plot device, but as an actual character: The very first scene is her covered in blood and raw jumping on a moving train for some mysterious purpose. Oh god, oh no, why is she soaked in blood already? Is she already in Terminator mode?

Then, in the best possible payoff of years of mystique and build-up, we learn that Degenbrecher, the person, not the plot device, the person, is fucking hilarious.

She's covered in blood because she stopped by a nearby farm to help farmers deliver a farm animal, which covered her in blood given how messy births are. She apparently didn't have to do this, and just opted to because, well, she was there, they needed help, and she's in a perpetual state of down to clown.

While pursuing possible dangerous elements to Kjerag later, she stops by to talk with tourists and recommend good spots to sightsee and eat before resuming her chase Looney Toons style.

She looks the same in the three champion portraits because she didn’t like the photoshoots so she skipped them. They were just reusing her photo.

She'll have the single most mundane conversations with the simplest people in midst of off-handedly mentioning that she quite enjoys fistfighting avalanches -- in a setting where this is not at all normal or feasible -- just to test herself. Reactions to her saying this vary from "hey is this a bit" to "oh, Degenbrecher, you card, we saw you do that the other day, next time I'll bring my camera".

She's a combination of Bugs Bunny, Sakamoto-kun, and Broly, and her main gimmick is that she's a reasonable, normal ass person in terms of personality sans the more overt feats of power like fistfighting avalanches. She's just Someone, who just happens to be mind-bogglingly strong and skilled with the greatsword and with swordbreakers.

This is doubly hilarious when you compare her to other one-woman armies we know: Nearl's dialogue is entirely composed of flowery promises for a better tomorrow and heroic declarations, Saria has woman pain 9000 and hasn't had a good day in years, Skadi is afflicted with survivor's guilt which in turn lead to a potent-self loathing and rationalizing her mere presence is what causes tragedy to those around her. Degenbrecher, in comparison, is just happy to be here, enjoys a good fight within reason, loves challenging herself, and honestly is quite content with stuff like paperwork or small talk. She's the friend you call to help you move or when your pipe busts or when you need someone to take care of your kid for a few hours if you're going to be late home due to work. And she puts her entire god damn pussy into it, too, you bet your kid is going to have the time of their life if Degenbrecher is on babysitting duty. Degenbrecher chips in for pizza night. Degenbrecher helps you change your flat tire.

The essence of Degenbrecher is that the rest of Terra is going through some really dire, really interesting times, to say the least, but she's on New Game+ just sort of doing side quests, overleveled as hell and with her shit figured out, and she decides to be as funny as possible about it.

[hairmetal666]

The first time Steve meets Eddie Munson they're booked for a little indie wrestling show in Rhode Island.

Eddie is--scrappy, untested. It's obvious the only kind of wrestling he's ever done is of the backyard trampoline variety. But. There's something there; they can all see it.

He doesn't like Steve much, but then Steve can't blame him. The Harrington's are a legacy wrestling family. His dad, uncles, even his mom was a famous valet and manager before getting married and retiring. So, he's got this name, and this look, and--earned or not--a reputation, and Munson doesn't like him.

Steve tries not to take it personally.

In between tours and indie bookings, Eddie starts as a trainer at Hopper's gym, and they start doing demonstrations for the kids together. Eddie's good, really good. Even though it's just for teaching, their styles and energy match.

They get booked in their first match against each other at a local show a few months later. The energy they had at Hopper's is nothing compared to this. Sure, there's only about 200 people packed into this high school gym, but it doesn't matter. It's electric.

Eddie's long, curly hair, lean muscles, and tattoos caught Steve's eye the moment they met, but it never flourished into anything because of how much Eddie hated him.

Now, though, they're spending time together, talking, rolling around in a wrestling ring all day, and Steve's only human.

There's a Ring Of Honor pay-per-view, it's the first time that Steve and Eddie have wrestled for a large audience. Anticipation for the match burns in his stomach.

This is Eddie's first appearance in ROH, and no one quite knows what to expect. He only gives a little Cheshire Cat grin when asked. So, Steve is genuinely startled when the arena lights go out, less so when Master of Puppets blares through the speakers.

The lights come up and Eddie stands at the end of the ramp. He's shirtless, hair in damp, loose curls around his shoulders. He's wearing pleather wrestling pants with mesh cutouts across his thighs and shins. Steve thinks he might die.

Eddie slips between the ropes to wild cheers, and Steve stops thinking about how hot he looks.

The first time they tangle up, Steve leans extra close, whispers, "that was amazing." And Eddie gives him this smile that's part menace and part joy. Steve's heart leaps, and their bodies crash together. It's the best time he's had in the ring in years.

Steve's crush aside, he thinks it was relatively normal until he catches up to Robin backstage.

"What the hell was that?" She hisses.

"Huh?"

"Oh my god, Steve. You were all over each other."

"Yeah? We were wrestling?"

"Is this wrestling?" She pulls up the picture from the beginning, of Steve leaning close and Eddie's smile.

It's, uh, way more intimate than Steve realized in the moment. His ears heat. "It wasn't like that," he says.

Robin rolls her eyes. Of course she sees right through him. "Tell that to the 5.1 thousand people who've already liked and reposted this picture."

"It's not going to be a thing," he tells her. He's certain of it.

It becomes a thing.

There are memes, fan art, fan fiction. People ship them--a couple of their trainees, Max and Erica, show them all the fics about them on ao3.

They're a hit.

They're booked against each other again, and this time, Eddie grabs Steve by the back of the head, pulls him in until they're almost kissing, until Steve stops breathing, feels his eyes going starry at the proximity.

The crowd is screaming so loud he can't hear anything, not even what Eddie is saying, even though they're so close. He leans in, unthinking, and Eddie stutters.

"They're eating this up!" Eddie shouts.

And they are, totally captivated. Which is why Steve presses their cheeks together for a several seconds before punching Eddie in the solar plexus.

Their next match, someone starts yelling "kiss, kiss!" and then it's the whole arena. Steve has to hide his laughter against Eddie's shoulder.

They lean more into it. They're having a blast. It even sort of helps his crush a little bit, to kind of make it into something the fans are in on.

He debuts on AEW against Hangman Page. Steve gets the win, and as the ref lifts his arm, he takes a blow to the back of his head. He has a second to see Jason Carver's signature letterman jacket before he goes down. He tries to curl up to protect himself, but still takes a boot to the stomach and more hits to the face and head.

The crowd is already in a frenzy, but when the noise goes up to a fever pitch, he knows Eddie's running down the ramp. He hears the thunk as Jason goes down, then Eddie is hauling Steve up by the shoulders.

They don't leave the ring right away. Instead, Eddie holds him there, brushes his hand over Steve's forehead before cupping his cheek.

As they slip between the ropes, walk to the back, his ears ring. He doesn't think it's from all the cheering.

---

In their next appearance on AEW, Jason attacks Steve backstage. The cameras cut to them right as Steve is thrown into a brick wall. It's supposed to be violent, supposed to get bloody. When he crashes into the corner of a backstage crate, he lets it catch him just above the eyebrow.

The blood starts flowing, warm, down his eyelid and nose just as he hears Eddie burst through the door. There's yelling, the sound of Jason running off, then a warm hand is on his back.

"Steve?" Eddie yells. His voice breaks. "Stevie?"

Hands are on his face, his shoulder, pushing back his hair, pressing against the cut above his eye.

"Ed," he mumbles.

"I'm here, I've got you. Paramedics are on the way, okay? You're going to be okay."

The cameras go down, and the medical team rushes over to patch him up.

Eddie's waiting for him when they're done.

"You're okay," Eddie says. "There was blood everywhere."

"Yeah, I'm alright. Crate got me a little more than I meant for it to."

"Can I?" Eddie asks. He reaches towards Steve, like he wants to touch.

"Course." Steve's voice is thick.

Eddie gently presses his hair back, revealing the butterfly bandage on his forehead. He hisses in a breath. "Got yourself good. I--I don't like seeing you hurt," he says, soft. "I didn't expect--I mean, I know it's not--I didn't like seeing you hurt."

Their eyes lock, the air between them charges. Not like when they're in front of an audience, the cameras. It's just them, alone; just them, standing too close.

Eddie's eyes dart to his mouth, and he leans forward until their breath mingles. Steve's eyes drift closed as the warmth of Eddie's mouth ghosts over his own.

A door down the hall bangs open with a clatter. Eddie and Steve spring apart, the moment fizzling.

Later, Steve tells Robin he thinks he imagined it.

---

Steve isn't on TV the next few weeks, the story is that he required surgery to repair internal bleeding and ended up with a grade-3 concussion. His timeline for return is unknown.

Eddie is set to wrestle Jason at the next pay-per-view, Revolution.

During Steve's two week break, he gets a text from Eddie. "Miss you, Stevie. Not the same here without you."

"Miss you too," he says back.

He's so in love with him.

---

The night of Revolution dawns, nerves thrumming in his stomach. He stays low-key, out-of-sight. He isn't going to make an appearance for a while, and he and Eddie agreed to not see each other before the match to make the reunion all the more real.

So, he hangs out in a backstage room, watching the show on a small TV, and psyching himself up for what's to come.

He makes his way to gorilla position as soon as Jason and Eddie finish their entrances, watches the match play out on the producers' monitors.

It's an even fight at the beginning but it gets nasty at the first appearance of weapons. Eddie takes a steel chair to the face, Jason sets up a table and Eddie dives from the top rope to crash him through it. That mat is littered with thumbtacks and sticky with blood, and then Jason grabs a chain from under the ring, wrapping it around Eddie's throat.

Steve runs down the ramp and the crowd goes insane, distracting Jason and allowing Eddie to scurry free. Jason disappears over the barricade and into the crowd, but neither of them go after him. Instead, Eddie runs around the ring, pulling Steve into a tight embrace. The fans scream.

They hold each other tight, the roars from the stands washing over them until they coalesce into one word, "kiss."

"Should we give the people what they want?" Eddie asks. His eyes are bright.

It's not real, Steve knows it's not, and maybe this will hurt more than landing in a pile of thumbtacks once it's over, but he nods. He's smiling so hard his mouth hurts.

He expects a stage kiss, a quick peck, but Eddie's hand cups the back of his head, draws him in slow, their lips meeting in a gentle press.

Everything around them melts away and he sinks against Eddie, lets the kiss carry him away. He wants more, wants to taste, wants anything Eddie will give.

"Guys," a voice says next to them. "Guys, you gotta ease up. We have to re-set for the main event."

The audience noise comes back to him in a tidal wave chant of their names and "They're in love" accompanied by a rhythmic clap.

They walk backstage together, close but not touching, and Steve thinks he can't be disappointed if it was only for TV. It was the closest to bliss he's ever been.

In the bustle of backstage, Eddie pulls him into a quiet hallway, hands immediately going to Steve's face.

"I meant it." He says. "The kiss. I meant every second."

For their second kiss, no one is there to tell them to stop.

[phantomuss]

Ebenholz going back to being graf urtica is the funniest thing because years down the line he's gonna look like he's a Big Man now, he will be dramatic (but a bit less, he's grown up) but he's gonna be put together! And all it takes is for a messenger to go 'my liege a Rhodes Island operator has arrived in Urtica' and he'll be like 'please don't be Hibiscus' its gonna be Hibiscus. She's stomping to the spire because he hasn't responded to her letters in years after his dramatic departure. She wants to know his infection state. Is he eating healthy? What's he up to these days? And he's gonna go GUARDS don't be rude but also don't let her in and Graf Urtica is also dead right now and can't come to the phone. He's forging papers, he's writing wills. Lessing rolls his eyes and lets Hibiscus in. People gossip about a mysterious howl coming from the spire that day. Half the people don't believe the gossip. Nobody knows its the sound of Ebenholz's cries.

[deancaspinefest]

The light will lead you home

Author: Desirae | Artist: thestarsmakemedream

Posting on Wednesday April 2

Dean Winchester lived a content life in Erzla Cove, Rhode Island, running the family store. He had good friends, the best little brother, and a niece that he adored. The only thing missing was someone to share it with.

Castiel Novak had been through much over the years; the loss of his father, the incarceration of his brother, and subsequent guardianship of his nephew Jack, just to name a few. Something else that had affected him profoundly, was loosing touch with his childhood best friend, Dean Winchester: the one who got away.

But now Castiel was hoping to change that. Spending summers with his father in Erzla Cove as a teenager had been the only time Castiel felt truly at home and he wanted that for Jack. Taking his late father's advice, Castiel was finally doing something for himself, and Jack as well. He was packing up their lives, and moving to the small coastal town, hoping to reconnect with old friends, provide a real home for Jack, and a second chance at love.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

The Keeper’s Quarters were originally just that. The quarters of the Glo Loholo lighthouse keeper. Nowadays, aside from the Boston Harbor, the beacons are automated, GPS making manned lighthouses obsolete. When Dean was a kid, The Baker family owned The Keeper's Quarters, and when Mildred Baker’s husband passed unexpectedly, she used the life insurance to put an addition on the property. She ran it as an inn up until retiring a few years back.

Mildred moved out with some girlfriends to a retirement community in Arizona, having quite enough New England winters without anyone to keep her warm–her words, not Dean’s. With no family to leave the Quarters to, it had remained on the market for years. Not that Dean was surprised, it was a pretty piece of property worth an even prettier penny.

Throughout the rest of the morning, Dean was told the news over and over again, and when his brother Sammy came by on his lunch break, Dean held up his hand.

“Nope. I already know. Someone bought the Keeper’s Quarters. So unless you know who it is…” Dean narrowed his eyes, noting the shit-eating grin on his brother’s dopey face. “You do?” Sam shrugged in faux nonchalance. “Sully may or may not have been one of the lawyers at the closing, on Mildred’s behalf.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a bitch Sammy,” he said and Sam laughed.

“Is that any way to speak to the guy who brought you a large regular from Lasa Moz?” Sam said, playfully waggling the take-out coffee cup in Dean’s face.

Dean snatched it out of Sam’s hand, his homemade coffee pushed aside like a redheaded stepchild. Sam stared at him, amused, as Dean took a healthy sip, and let out a gusty sigh of satisfaction.

“You two need a moment alone?”

“Yes, if you’re not gonna spill move along,” Dean said, waving his hand in a shooing motion.

Sam stared at him, flatly for a moment, then: “Okay, so get this: It’s Castiel Novak. Isn’t that great? You guys were like, best friends, weren’t you?“

For a moment, Dean lost his breath. Castiel Novak. That was a name he never thought he’d hear again.

Keep reading on Ao3 after Wednesday April 2

[roosterforme]

Beer Boy and Sugar: The First Lost Year (Bradley Bradshaw x Reader)

Part of the Lost Years series for Beer Boy and Sugar

Warnings: language, longing, angst (series fits chronologically between Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time)

Banner by @mak-32

Year One

"Bradshaw."

Bradley was pulled out of his comfortable daydream when he heard Natasha Trace call his name. He looked over at the only friend he'd managed to make since he moved to Rhode Island for flight training five months ago. It turns out, nobody much wants to talk to you when you're a bit of a miserable prick. 

"Yeah?"

She nodded back toward the hangar and said, "Captain Price wants us to use the simulator."

"Right," he replied softly. Once she was gone again, he turned to look out at the rough Atlantic Ocean and shivered in the late October air. He was freezing cold. He was always fucking freezing cold here. He missed Virginia. He missed being warm in his bed in his fraternity house. He missed you.

"No," he whispered, closing his eyes and focusing on some deep breathing. "No. You can't." Every thought of you was painful, and he needed to get past this. He kept promising himself that one day, he would wake up and be on the other side of this ache, but he was such a damn liar. Deep inside, he knew better. 

How was it supposed to stop hurting when all he could think about was you, equally cold in Chicago, wrapped up in his Grateful Dead shirt and listening to their songs? It had already snowed there; he checked the weather frequently. He memorized the University of Chicago campus map and thought about where you might be, always afraid you were in a library study room. With someone else. Because the only thing worse than thinking about you cold and alone was thinking about you moving on with someone new. But you were perfect. Bradley's perfect Sugar. Of course you didn't need to be with him to be happy. 

Eventually he turned toward the hangar and walked through the frigid wind. He completed the simulation perfectly in almost no time. Trace was every bit as good as he was, and Bradley silently rejoiced whenever they were paired together. She was serious but not too serious. She was smart but never cocky about it. She didn't waste a lot of time talking if she had nothing to say. She reminded him a lot of you. 

He wasn't interested in her as anything more than the friend he desperately needed right now, but it was hard to open up to someone new when he could only think about one thing. There were a handful of really attractive women here, but Bradley found himself unable to focus on them. Besides, he finally understood that quality always beats quantity. You started teaching him that lesson as soon as he felt the urge to paint his bedroom door white. 

He avoided the tables full of students in the cafeteria, picking one off to the side instead. He figured if he gave the appearance that he didn't want anyone around, then they would leave him alone. He was only mostly successful.

"Can I join you?" 

When he looked up at Trace's dark brown eyes, he nodded and pulled his tray a little closer to him so she could sit on the other side of the table. "Yeah, sure."

She ate half of her food before she said anything. "Hey, thanks for not being creepy."

He looked at her calm face in confusion. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged and said, "Some of the other guys are a little creepy towards me, Hayes, O'Malley and Butler. They think it's funny to mess with the girls."

"Seriously?" Bradley asked, setting his fork down. "Which guys?" He wished he didn't feel the sudden urge to break something; he'd been able to manage this feeling for a long time, only letting it surface when he wanted to pound Jeff to bits for touching you. It would probably feel good right now if he let this emotion take over for a little bit.

"Don't worry about it," Trace replied easily. "It's nothing I can't handle. I just don't like eating alone if I can help it, because then they come over."

Bradley nodded, picking up his fork again. If there was anything you wouldn't like, it would be Bradley losing his place in the Navy because he couldn't manage to stay out of a fistfight. "You can eat with me whenever you want."

Her muttered, "Thanks," was so soft, he barely heard it. He wanted to tell her not to thank him, but the silence between them felt pretty nice. She took a few more bites before she asked, "So what's your deal, Bradshaw? You're awfully quiet for someone who can pass all of the exams on the first try and makes the simulators look easy."

He laughed. "I could say the same about you."

"I guess," she replied, "but I'm always the one initiating conversation with you, not the other way around. It's a girl, isn't it? You miss your girlfriend?"

She didn't ask it unkindly, but it felt like a slap to his face. He swallowed hard, once again wondering why this hurt so fucking bad after five goddamn months. But he'd never tried to actually talk about you with anyone else. Maybe it wouldn't be as hard as he thought it would. 

He cleared his throat and looked down at his tray. "There used to be a girl. I think maybe she thought she was doing me a favor when she dumped me. Or maybe she was just trying to protect herself. And I can respect that."

"Ouch," came Natasha's soft voice, and Bradley had almost forgotten he wasn't alone. "You were in love with her." 

It wasn't phrased as a question, and once again Bradley felt like she physically hit him. He had never admitted it out loud before right now. "Yeah. I was in love with her." He set his fork down one last time before he met her eyes. "I'm still in love with her."

Later that night, he cried himself to sleep, dying to hear you call him Beer Boy and push your fingers through his hair one last time. Dying to ask you why he couldn't have two dreams.

---------------------

You were twenty-two years old. You lived in one of the most exciting cities in the country. And you were single. But you never really felt like going out when the other graduate students invited you. Every time you did go, you ended up at a bar that was way too loud or a frat house that was way too uncomfortable. Nobody knew how to play beer pong correctly, and every guy was wearing a backwards cap.

It made your heart ache.

"Hey." 

You looked up from your computer to see Jared staring at you with a smile on his face and his hat spun backwards on his head. "Alex and I are going to one of the library study rooms and then out to get a beer. You coming?"

Both of those things sounded amazing, actually. But not with him or Alex. Not with anybody at this school or in this city or even in the central time zone. You shook your head. "Thanks, but not tonight. Maybe next week?"

Jared looked dejected. "Aww, come on. You're too pretty to be sitting here working alone." He probably though he was being charming, but he was nowhere close to the level of sweetness you were used to.

You sighed softly and shook your head again. "Thanks but.... maybe next week."

When he finally left, you tried to return your attention to what you had been working on. There was no shortage of classwork or research to keep you busy seven days a week here, and that was a very good thing. Because it was days like this one where you started to think about Bradley and you couldn't stop. As soon as you let the memories creep in, you were done. 

You closed your computer and sucked in a ragged breath. Through the blurry tears filling your eyes, you pulled up the bottom of your hoodie and ran your fingers along the soft, tie dyed cotton of the shirt you were wearing underneath. If you closed your eyes and thought about Virginia, you could almost believe the shirt still smelled like him. You could almost hear him sing what had become your favorite song.  

"Shit," you muttered, standing and shoving your computer into your backpack. You would finish working from your dorm room. You just needed to get out of here right now. 

The icy cold air smacked you in the face as soon as you walked outside. Apparently it started snowing in October here. It had been snowing steadily for days. You missed Virginia. You missed the stupid Beta house. You missed the way Bradley felt like your own personal furnace when he cuddled with you. Sometimes you thought you'd made the worst decision of your life.

The urge to cave and call him as soon as you got to your room and cranked up the heater was so intense. Then you remembered that you broke his heart and your own with a handful of sentences and the admission that you loved him. Well, you still loved him, but he almost certainly hated you. And that was fine. That was completely okay as long as he was focused on keeping himself safe instead of thinking about a long distance relationship. He had a dream bigger than you, and he deserved to live it out.

You curled up in a ball on your bed and listened to Easy to Love You by The Grateful Dead exactly eleven times in a row while you cried. You did the math in your head; that was just over forty minutes of crying. Last week when you broke down, it was closer to an hour. Maybe things were on the upswing now. Maybe the pain would start to fade. It had already been more than five months since you left his room while he sat on the edge of his bed, agony written on his face. 

"Why?" you asked yourself angrily, certain nobody else would ever make you feel as good as he had for the handful of months you'd spent together. He taught you a lot about yourself, and now you understood the importance of giving someone a second chance. How crucial it was to look past the surface. 

You buried your nose in the fabric of the colorful shirt, turned the song on one more time, and fell asleep with unshed tears and a tightness in your chest. When you woke up the next day, you found more snow on the ground when you put on your boots and jacket and headed outside. You remembered exactly where to go, because you'd seen it so many times before. You headed for the tattoo parlor near campus with a pocketful of cash and the hope that this would make you feel better and not worse.

Once you were lounging back with the Grateful Dead shirt pulled up, you pointed to your math tattoo. "I want it just below this one. It's a specific song lyric. And I want it in this font."

The tattoo artist looked at your skin and then the words you'd written out before checking the font you were pointing to in his binder which happened to look a bit like Bradley's tidy script. 

"The Dead," he said with a smile. "I dig it. I can do it for a hundred bucks."

You nodded and handed him the cash, and just a few minutes later, he got to work. If he thought you were crying softly because of the pain from the needle digging into your flesh over and over again, then that was fine with you.

-----------------------------

I'm fine. We are all fine. Year two is up next.

PART 2

@beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger @cherrycola27 @sorchathered @mamachasesmayhem @attapullman @bobgasm @desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233 @shanimallina87 @sylviebell @wkndwlff @horseslovers2016 @sadpetalsstuff @schoollover @jessicab1991 @lex-winchester @bellaireland1981 @sagittarius-flowerchild @marvelouslyme96 @trickphotography2 @goldenseresinretriever @rascallyrascalreads @auroracaroline @nerdgirljen @redbarn1995 @theweekndhistorybook @moon42flight @eli2447 @lyn-js @na-ta-sh-aa @mygyn @je-suis-prest-rachel @kcloveswrestling @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @callsign-magnolia @eternalsams @lynnestra44 @shinzowosasageyoooo @tgmreader @princessofglitterland @backupbrii @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @averyhotchner @hookslove1592 @schoollover @callsigns-haze

[nhlclover]

NOT OVER YOU | TREVOR ZEGRAS

word count: 1.44k

summary: your childhood friend comes home, digging up old feelings once felt for him

warnings: slight drinking, kissing, use of 'y/f/i' which stands for 'your first initial'

Trevor Zegras is a boy you never forget.

Growing up next door to him, he was always in my life. From preschool to middle school, we were friends, spending most moments of the day together. Over time, I found myself being drawn to the boy that lived next door to me. I quickly figured, however, that my crush was one-sided. I did my best to forget my crush but failed to do so.

Even as the years passed and boyfriends have come and gone from my life, my crush on Trevor has always sat in the backseat.

When my mom told me Trevor was coming back to New York for a few weeks in the summer, I was excited. Though those feelings were promptly replaced by ones of nervousness when she informed me he had been invited for dinner at our house.

Seeing him walk up my driveway brings back memories of when we were kids, him doing the same to come and ask me if I wanted to go for a bike ride or hang out in my treehouse. We spent every moment of every summer together.

“Y/n/n. I can’t believe it.” He says. Trevor scoops me up spinning me around once.

“Trevor put me down!” I shriek.

He does so, setting me down, and looking down at me. He’s several inches taller than the last time I saw him, and has definitely put on muscle. Seeing him in front of me I am promptly reminded of my feelings for my best friend. My childhood crush has only grown into something stronger as we’ve gotten older.

“What?” He asks me.

“You look so different.” I say.

“I could say the same about you.” Trevor says, eyeing me up and down.

“I hope that’s a good thing.” I joke.

“It’s good believe me.” He smiles. “God, it’s been so long.”

“Well, you’re the one who lives in California.” I remind.

“Yeah, and you’re the one that decided to go to an ivy league school in fucking Rhode Island.” He jokes.

“Fine, we’re both at fault. Truce?” I ask, sticking my hand out for a handshake.

He snorts, shaking my hand, then pulling me into his chest and tossing an arm around my shoulders. We walk into the house, my parents immediately greeting him like he was their own son. My mom brings him in for a tight hug while my dad shakes his hand, asking about hockey and handing him a beer. We eat dinner, Trevor charming my mother by complimenting her cooking.

“I don’t know why you never dated Trevor, he’s much more polite than any of the guys you’ve brought home before.” My mom says.

“Mom, seriously?” I ask, my cheeks heating up. I dare to look over at Trevor who has an intrigued look on his face.

“You’ve been bringing guys home, huh?” He asks.

“Only two!” I say in defence. “And that was in my first year!”

“That is true. None since.” My mother nods. “So I still have hope for the two of you.”

I groan, burrowing my gaze in my food, missing Trevor’s smile and looking in my direction. We wrap up dinner, Trevor and I clearing the table while my parents put out dessert. Not long after, my parents retire to bed, leaving the two of us alone. Trevor and I crack open a second beer each and sit down at the kitchen table, catching up. He tells me about hockey and his new life in Anaheim, while I tell him about life at Brown.

“Oh my god, you guys still have the treehouse?” Trevor asks, looking out the back window in the kitchen.

“Yeah, I refused to let Dad tear it down.” I laugh. “It’s still the same as when we were young.”

“Shut up, really?” Trevor asks, whipping his head at me.

“Yeah, it’s got the 5SOS posters and everything.”

Suddenly Trevor is by the back door, opening it and walking through our backyard to the large oak tree that holds the old treehouse. I follow him, watching as he climbs up the rickety wooden ladder, holding a beer bottle in one hand. “Trevor, I don’t know how stable it is!” I call to him.

He ignores me and continues to climb the ladder, opening the hatch at the top and disappearing into the house. I stand at the base of the ladder looking up into the house, seeing Trevor standing at the opening and looking down at me.

“Come up!” He calls.

My brain is dragged back to my childhood, seeing the familiar blonde as I normally would in our summers together. I sigh, beginning to climb the ladder that creaks with every rung I climb. When I climb through the opening, I see Trevor sitting on the wooden pallet couch my dad had made for me when I was young. The couch no longer had cushions and was beginning to decay slightly.

I look around, my chosen artwork still scattered on the walls. 5 Seconds of Summer posters remain on the walls, wilting away, and the blue-painted walls are chipped.

“It still looks the same.” I say softly.

“I mean, yeah if the interior of the treehouse went through an apocalypse.” Trevor says, looking around.

I roll my eyes, sitting beside Trevor on the wooden couch. “God, we used to spend so much time in here.” I say.

“Wait.” Trevor says suddenly, standing up and going to the oak tree that shoots through the centre of the treehouse. He scans the wood, seemingly looking for something.

“I found it!” He says, waving me over.

I stand by his side, looking at where his finger is touching the tree. Above it, ‘T + y/f/i’ is faintly etched into the wood. “Oh my God, I forgot about that.” I say, burying my face in my hands.

When Trevor and I were 11 there was a two-week period that we “dated”. I use the word dated loosely as it was barely a relationship, and Trevor and I never kissed.

“I was heartbroken when you dumped me.” Trevor joked.

“Oh sure you were.” I roll my eyes, going to sit down.

He comes around the tree, finishing off his beer. “I truly was.”

I shake my head, laughing at him. “You don’t believe me?” He asks, sitting down beside me.

“Don’t even, Trevor.” I look over at him, seeing him staring intently at me. His blue eyes are still just as piercing as they were when we were young. Still just as captivating.

“What?” I ask softly.

“Nothing.” He says.

“No, no. Tell me.” I say, sitting up and looking at him. He stares back with a smirk tugging on his lips.

“When you smile, your lips still hook to the left.” He says.

It’s an odd quirk I have and everyone still points it out to me. When I smile, the left side of my mouth goes higher than the right, giving me a crooked smile. I grew up hating it. “Ugh, don’t point it out.” I say, covering my lips with my hand.

“Don’t.” He says, pulling my hand down.

His eyes are delicate as he looks into mine. Suddenly he sits up, leaning forward, and connecting our lips. I hear the empty bottle fall from his hand, clinking as it hits the floor. Trevor’s hands come up to my face, softly holding me there. Before I can kiss him back, his lips pull back. I open my eyes, finding his looking straight into mine.

We sit there momentarily, neither one of us finding the words we want to say. I decide to let actions speak for themselves, leaning back into Trevor, and connecting our lips once again. His tongue sweeps past my lips as I part them, granting him access. My hands press against his chest for stability, his slipping down to my waist, pulling me into him.

I gasp softly as I pull away, resting my forehead against his and looking into his eyes once more. “You have no clue how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Trevor says softly, still slightly gasping in between words.

“Really?” I ask, our foreheads still pressed together.

“I have never not wanted you, y/n.” Trevor says. “Seriously. You’re all I’ve thought about since the day we met.”

“But, all these years… I thought we were just friends?”

“I thought that’s what you wanted.” I quickly shake my head at his words. Trevor kisses me again, smiling against my lips. We break apart, matching smiles on our faces. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and I giggle at my childhood dream coming true finally.

[anotheroceanid]

Timeline of WTHB

(WIP, updated alongside the fic)

Since WTHB is a very long story with multiple plotlines that not necessarily are happening at the same time, I made this for my readers to understand more or less when things are happening. I know this can be a little confusing by only reading the dates in chapters.

Things won't be super detailed in the timeline. Some things here will make more sense as the story advances.

If you haven't read all the chapters plublished... Spoiler alert!

August, 2010

18th: Percy's birthday. Celebration at CHB for the one year since the end of the 2nd Titanomachy. (Chapter 4: Our Last Summer)

December, 2010

21st: Percy goes to the island. (Chapter 1: The Day The Music Died). Winter Solstice Council of 2010.

July, 2011

18th: Andromachus is born. (mentioned in Chapter 5: Runs In The Family)

21st: Summer Solstice. Triplets are born.

December, 2012

21st: Mist is put down and the gods are revealed. (mentioned in Chapter: Our Last Summer)

September, 2014

Between 23rd and 27th: Camp Half-Blood is attacked by Romans. Annabeth and Athena falling out. Annabeth is blinded and cursed. Annabeth is rescued by Dionysus and taken to Rhode Island, where eventually she's turned into a sea monster by Triton. (Chapter 5: Runs In The Family)

----

Unknown date: Percy and Hector have a fight. At night, Hector sneaks out of home. Percy wakes up and follows him to the beach. Hector and Milo are kidnapped. (Chapter 2: Crying Like Cassandra)

January, 2028

19th: Earthquake in Rome, depots of food compromised. Jason sends a letter to the Greek Queens asking for resources. Hector arrives at Rome. Jason is wounded and infected by Bacchus Plague. (Chapter 6: Eat Our Young)

Between 20th and 31st: Jason and Hector in coma. Hector is locked up in a stadium in San Francisco by Reyna, and Octavian wants to take him to trial. Hazel takes care of Hector. (Chapter 6: Eat Our Young)

February, 2028

Between 1st and 8th: Jason wakes up (Chapter 6: Eat Our Young). Annabeth receives letter from Jason asking for support (mentioned in Chapter 5: Runs In The Family). Grover writes to Annabeth asking for weapons for the fauns in the Mexican Front (mentioned in Chapter 5: Runs In The Family).

5th: Annabeth receives letter from Nico about Poseidon feeling Percy's presence again. Silena and Penelope find Dusty, the bird. (Chapter 5: Runs In The Family)

15th: Leo, Chris and Andromachus return to Perses. Annabeth start plotting to sabotage the Greek Roads and send weapons to the Nature Spirits. (Chapter 5: Runs In The Family)

March, 2028

3rd: Dusty is lost, so Silena, Penelope and Leander go to the Old Camp to search for him. Annabeth, Leo and Clarisse go to Old Camp to search for them. They're attacked by the Nemean Lion when Milo reveals himself and saves them. (Chapter 5: Runs In The Family)

April, 2028

12th: Percy, Luke and Orion arrive at Medea's Department Store. Medea and Orion reveal what happened during the past 17 years. (Chapter 4: Our Last Summer )

[jellybeanium124]

Stede excused himself from the brightly lit ballroom with two hundred chatting people and loud band to go to the bathroom. He sat on the toilet for five minutes in the brightly lit bathroom as other fundraiser guests walked in and out, doing their business and washing their hands.

All he wanted to do was go home. He didn't want to talk, he didn't want to be wearing a suit, he didn't want a fancy meal. This was unusual for Stede. He normally loved wearing a fancy suit while eating a fancy meal and talking nonstop, but he was tired and his whole head and body was buzzing. His suit felt too tight and itchy, and he swore he could feel tags rubbing against him, and his shoes hurt.

He left the stall and washed his hands and started wandering around. He shouldn't be doing this, abandoning the party to snoop around like a curious child, but he couldn't go back in there. What was he supposed to do? Go find Mary and stand behind her while she talks like a functioning adult? He didn't even know why he felt like crap.

The entire building the party was being hosted in was bright and fancy, but at least here in a random hallway with benches and candelabras on the walls and plush velvet carpeting, it's quiet.

He turned a corner and saw a man sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall where a bit of it juts out to form a small corner. He's got his knees tucked up to his chest.

"Sir, are you okay?" Stede asked, walking over to the man.

He looked surprised to see someone. "What? Yes, yeah, I'm fine. I'm with the fundraiser benefit, that's why I'm here. I just... needed a break."

"Me too."

"...You wanna sit?"

"Ok."

Stede sat down on the carpet next to the man, and stretched his legs out.

"I'm Stede," he said, holding out his hand.

"Stede??" the man echoed, shocked. "Shit, Stede Bonnet?"

"Um... yes?"

The man seemed to grow shyer, and looked away. Stede put his hand down. Then he pulled his knees up and sighed.

"You've probably read those articles, right? About Bonnet Suits? Where I'm the silly spoiled son of an evil Disney villain?"

"Yeah... might've..."

"Well, Mr. Teach was right about some things. My father is evil. There's no appealing to his humanity no matter what. He won't make any of the changes I want to make in the company. That's why everyone thinks I'm so useless. Maybe all my ideas are stupid anyways... I just have stupid ideas..."

"What are your ideas?"

"Pay every single employee who works in the factories making suits for us the equivalent of $15 an hour. Every single one. I've done the math 40 different ways, it's possible! We could pay them more, but I've got to start somewhere. My father always shuts me down and tells me I'd be throwing away hundreds of millions in profits. I've stopped trying to convince him to do something by explaining how this will help the people who make the suits that made him fucking wealthy beyond his wildest dreams, and right now I'm working the whole 'everyone loves human rights this will get us more customers and we can charge more if people think we're sustainable' angle but even that's not working. I can't take it anymore. I have a little boat. I bought it as a fiftieth birthday gift to myself. It's sitting at a pier in Rhode Island right now. No one knows about it. Not my father, not my wife... once I grow some balls I'm going there and getting on my boat and I'm not coming back."

The man blinked at him.

"Sorry... fuck... I don't know why I said all of that. Fuck, there's journalists at this thing. I'm supposed to be doing good for my father's reputation, not sitting in a hallway talking about what a piece of shit he is..."

The man swallowed. "Yeah..."

"Enough about my stupid problems, you really don't seem okay. Are you sick? Should..." Stede cut himself off and looked at the floor.

"Should...?"

Stede shook his head. "Nothing. You came out here for some peace and quiet, and I'm fucking it all up. I can go now."

"I wouldn't mind if you sat and we had peace and quiet together."

Stede smiled at him briefly, before leaning his head back against the wall and letting out a sigh.

For a few minutes, the two of them sat together in silence. It felt a little good, at least, to know that there was someone else here who couldn't stand to be at that party longer than thirty minutes. A kindred spirit, maybe. A potential friend.

"I'm Ed Teach," the man said quietly, after a few minutes had passed.

Stede's heart dropped through the floor.

He was sitting next to the man who called him an ineffectual, under-qualified, empty-headed heir to a despicable fashion fortune. And he was right.

"Oh," Stede said.

"That's it? 'Oh?' You're not going to have me thrown out? No yelling? You're not even gonna bribe me to stop talking about your dad's company and the shit he pulls?"

Stede shrugged. "Eh, we deserve worse."

"You're a lot different than I thought you'd be."

"You're a lot different too. I thought you'd be a ruthless and mean sneaky journalist."

Ed sighed. "It's hard being like that all the time... I thought you'd be a prick. A real entitled asshole."

Stede smiled gently. "At least one thing my father never gave me was his personality."

Ed nodded. "But y'know, if you're really serious about change, why don't you just fucking do it? Stop waiting for your dad's approval, go to Cambodia and Bangladesh, and pay them out of your own pocket? Running away to Rhode fuckin' Island isn't gonna help anyone."

Stede cocked his head at him curiously. "Could I do that? Go behind my father's back and just... pay them out of my own savings? Is that legal?"

"I mean, you can give people money. You can write checks. You could write me a check right now. That'd be legal."

Stede raised an eyebrow. "Writing a check for my nemesis journalist? That'd be awful suspect, even if it's legal."

"Okay okay okay not me specifically, but, like, you can do that. You can write checks. I know you're sitting on millions and millions of dollars, Bonnet."

"Okay," Stede said, standing up. "Let's go."

"Let's?"

"Yes. Let's go. Fuck em."

Ed stood up. "Now?"

Stede nodded. "Now. Let's get our passports and board the first plane we can. I'm going behind my father's back, like you suggested."

"And you want me... to come with you?"

"Of course. Presumably I'll need a journalist on my side when this shitstorm goes public," Stede said with a manic smile.

~~~

Obviously, our juvenile stunt didn't immediately solve everything. Bonnet Sr. still had access to Stede's finances, and drained his bank accounts so the millions he gave out in checks would bounce. But our stunt wasn't without its value. It immediately brought public attention to Bonnet Suits, and the fashion industry and its abuses in general. Bonnet Sr.'s now infamous meltdown during his interview for Reuters caused him to step down as CEO, leaving Stede to take over. Over the course of the following year, Stede made sweeping reforms inside the company, all according to plans he'd spent years trying to get his father to implement. Yesterday he publicly announced that he's retiring, and now here I am, retiring as well. People often compare us to Romeo and Juliet, with one reporter who shall remain nameless calling us "just as fockin stupid as those teenage twats." And perhaps we are just as stupid and headstrong as them. I did get on a plane to Bangladesh with a billionaire approximately 5 hours after meeting him (he'd never flown on a commercial flight before, he was adorably excited about trying the "airplane food" and requested a pin with wings on it like kids get). But now it's been well over a year, and I'm still stupidly in love with him, so up yours. I'm going to retire and spend the rest of my days eating fresh lobster rolls and relaxing on my husband's little boat. Journalism has no doubt taken years off my life, so I'm going to spend whatever time I have left happy.

Take it sleazy, Ed Teach

[jnnul]

the right side of wrong. (part two)

TAGS ▸ uh like mentions of glass breaking, and food eating??, this chapter is pretty tame lol

PLAYLIST ▸ yosemite - travis scott, back - jey, stay - ari abdul, element - pop smoke, dirty laundry - blackbear

WORD COUNT ▸ 6.5k

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ didn't want this part to be too long since i'm trying to stick to my end word count of 40k lol. next chapter is gonna move things along for sure though! this one is just plot + world building. quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!

TAGLIST ▸ @hybeboyenthusisast

[march 19, 20XX, 11:48 a.m.]

[mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

“you’ve never watched television before?” soojin asks incredulously, staring at y/n. she shrugs, looking at the remote in her hand with a curious look. 

“i mean, television is harder to warp since it could be live broadcasted. magic takes a lot of energy, and i don’t think anyone cared about me enough to warp television day in and day out. i mostly just read books. fiction.” jay lets out a low whistle as he puts the baking tray into the oven. 

soojin and jay had taken it upon themselves to be ‘den mothers’ for y/n since she didn’t really have anyone else to connect with, and since they were the only ones who lived at mount justice.

“really? well, at least now you’ll never be bored. when i was on mars, watching television from earth is practically the only thing i ever did,” soojin says and smiles when she sees jay make his way to the television set in the other room, picking out dvd’s of old movies to start y/n with.

“yeah. i mean, it was pretty boring since i could only do things that were already vetted by my dad. i could only read the books he wanted me to. i could only eat the foods that he brought me. i could only learn the things in textbooks that he conjured. it was a life that felt like prison,” she explained, her voice trailing off as she reminisced not-so-fondly about her life in the other dimension.

“you know, i hate to say it, but usually people come out of solitary confinement totally mistrustful and don’t reveal anything to the people around them because of their time. i know that your case was a little different but i just - ” soojin is cut off by y/n, who’s eyes have grown hard and full of fire.

“but i don’t seem depressed or psychotic. in fact, i look and speak like a pretty normal girl, don’t i?” y/n says, her voice cold and emotionless. a shiver runs down soojin’s spine. this is what she had expected from someone who had no one but the light to grow up with. someone who was ready to fight at any given moment; a cold and ruthless killer.

“i’m sorry,” soojin says and just as quickly as y/n had slipped into the persona, she slips out of it.

“no, don’t apologize. i understand the confusion. it’s a mix of two things: my father may have been controlling my environment but he never actually tried to control me. he said that my powers and my face was all his, but that my personality and my brain was all of my mother’s. my father loved me very much, and locking me up to ‘protect me’ was his insane way of showing it. so i know what it’s like to be warm, trusting, and affectionate. it’s not as though i never knew the emotion. and as easy as it would be to live my life without ever trusting you guys, i just don’t think i want to live like that again. that’s how i’ve been living ever since i found out the truth about this dimension.” y/n sighs, crossing her arms over her chest and hugging them close to her body, as if to trap the heat into the depths of her skin. “but also - even with all of that love - i’ve lived a better life in the past two days than i have in the past twenty years. people here tell me the difference between reality and fiction. everyone in that dimension just told me whatever i wanted to hear. or whatever i needed to hear to stay in their grasp. i wasn’t really a child to look after to anyone else in the light. i was more like a harmless puppy.”

“that’s why they didn’t train you in combat either?” soojin asks and y/n nods, shrugging.

“it’s hard to keep a puppy under control when she’s been taught to bite.”

jay, who’d come back to the kitchen with a myriad of genres to explore sighs. “you know, that kind of reminds me of my time at cadmus.”

“what’s a cadmus?” y/n asks, and jay is silent for a moment, picking and choosing his words wisely.

“it’s a prison of its own. i was made as superman’s clone and raised in a facility to have the powers of superman but no mind of my own. i was literally created to be a rabid dog just barely on a leash,” jay says, and when he looks up at y/n, he doesn’t see the pity that he usually gets (and hates). instead, he just sees solidarity and for some reason, it feels as though she truly understood what exactly he’d gone through.

“but enough of the sad past talk. we’ve got to get you caught up on cinema and there’s nothing but time, right now! so what do you say, y/n? are you feeling mystery? romance? comedy? romantic-comedy?” soojin says, clapping her hands. y/n peruses her options before picking a movie, unable to tear her eyes away from the cover.

“i don’t think i know what love is but whatever it is, it’s gotta be this right now. who is this fine man?” y/n asks, staring at the man on the cover of the dvd and soojin giggles. 

“that’s henry cavill, and trust me, we all think that way,” she says, winking at jay, who just rolls his eyes with a grin.

“well then, the immortals, it is,” jay says, leading them all to the living area, where the television was.

“oh, i hate to bring up cadmus again but you said something that i thought i should clarify,” y/n says suddenly, her face serious and contemplative. jay and soojin exchange a look.

“what is it, y/n? do you remember something else about the light?” soojin asks worriedly.

“no. no - i just wanted to ask…what the hell is a superman?”

“oh boy.”

[march 19, 20XX, 11:48 a.m.]

[palo alto, california]

yujin checks her phone for the third time in the span of thirty seconds, her knee bouncing as she waited in the courtyard of stanford university for her boyfriend. she stares down at her phone impatiently, waiting for jake when she’s offered a short reprieve from the california sun beating down on her as a shadow casts across her face.

“you know, you really need to start caring more about your boyfriend and less about this new girl you have a crush on,” says the person who deprives yujin of her vitamin d.

“i don’t have a crush on her. but i do really need to check something out in gotham,” yujin says, looking up at jake. “and i need you to come with me.”

jake frowns, checking his watch. “is it serious? we have the pottery painting double date with the colemans at five.”

“no, it’s not serious. it’s just strange. and i don’t know, i just don’t want to investigate alone. figured i would put your forensics degree to use,” yujin replies.

“forensics? are we talking about a dead body here?” jake asks and yujin shakes her head, looking back down at her phone. she turns the phone screen so that jake could see what had her so on edge and gasps, taking the phone from her and examining carefully.

the image on yujin’s phone wasn’t gory or grotesque like jake had expected. instead, the image was (relatively) straightforward: someone had broken into ace chemical factory - literally. everything made of glass in the image was shattered to pieces, and the old stone building was suffering some serious cracks.

“this looks like some sort of sonic weaponry type damage. i see why this is sad and disturbing for gotham city history enthusiasts but i’m still not seeing why a forensics analysis is necessary. does sunghoon know about this?,” jake says, frowning as he examines the picture.

yujin swipes to the next picture, and jake’s frown grows even deeper as he looks at the picture.

“it looks like the same person who broke into ace chemicals also did some serious property damage to the yacht bridge. this has got to be at least twenty to forty million dollars in damage,” jake says, his eyebrows furrowed. “i still don’t see how this is an issue for forensics though.”

“check the timestamps. sunghoon wants us to do a little analysis for the team while he carries out the investigation on the legal side. you know, since superpowers are probably involved,” yujin says and jake swipes back and forth, checking the timestamps of the pictures.

“these pictures indicate that the damage was done at the same exact time. how the hell is that possible? i didn’t know that sonic weaponry was that easy to find,” jake says cynically, swiping back and forth once more.

“yeah. but check this: the damage looks the exact same. as if it were done by the same weapon,” yujin says, pointing out the shape of the glass shards that were scattered across the floors of each of the buildings. jake looks closer until he notices something that rubs him the wrong way, zooming in to show yujin too.

“look at this, though. in the picture of the yacht bridge, there’s clear indications that the weaponry used was barely functional; i mean the glass shattered but the shatter isn’t nearly as finely ground as the glass here, in the ace chemical factory picture. it’s not as identical as we think it is,” jake explains. “and this is just a hunch, but it seems like the motives are different too - i mean, i can’t think of a single reason why anyone would voluntarily go to ace chemical factory at eight in the evening. that place has been shut down for years, and it was never producing anything too valuable in the first place.”

“but the yacht bridge would mean that some rich people are moving some big amounts of money in the next couple of days,” yujin says slowly. “especially with the weather growing warmer, more and more people are getting their boats ready to take out onto the waters.”

“and when did you say icicle sr. was at the bank?” jake asks, mentally committing the picture to memory. 

“not even fifteen minutes later. the bank is pretty close to ace chemicals but it’s on the other side of gotham. unless it was you or the flash, i’m not sure that anyone could make it from the yacht bridge to the bank in time. but from ace chemicals, there’s more than enough time to do so,” yujin says, swiping to the next picture, where she’d circled the three locations.

“well, i’m not sure how much help i’m gonna be but i’ll check out all three of the locations with you if that’s what you need me to do,” jake says, handing yujin back her phone and she pockets it quickly, checking her watch.

“well then, i’m gonna have to borrow the powers of kid flash to complete this recon mission,” she says, a teasing glint in her eyes and jake flashes her a megawatt smile.

“kid flash, at your service, ma’am. now, let’s not keep the colemans waiting for too long.” 

[march 19, 20XX, 11:48 a.m.]

[gotham city, southern tip of new jersey]

“detective park? we have some people inquiring about the simultaneous break-ins at ace chemicals and the yacht bridge from yesterday. is the field team ready to go to the site?” byun euijoo, the station’s pretty boy and correspondent/representative asks, looking haggard from having to respond to entitled rich people all day.

“yeah. we’re ready,” sunghoon says, nodding at the team that he’d assembled to investigate the break-ins. he had a sneaking suspicion that yujin and jake would have better luck in finding the source of the issues but he had a job and appearances to keep up anyway.

“right. i’ll tell them that our team’s on site working on the case and that we’ll find the perpetrators as soon as possible,” euijoo says, typing away on his little ipad, murmuring something under his breath. “even though it’s most likely that the justice league’s gonna handle this anyway. or whoever the hell they send to take care of things secretly.”

“what’d you say?” sunghoon says, unbuttoning the buttons on the cuffs of his sleeves to roll them up, hanging the detective badge over his neck.

“nothing. it’s just - does our station ever really do anything? it feels like we just get anonymous intel that solves the entire case for us. not that you’re not a great detective and you’ve definitely been vital to solving cases and putting everything together. but, you know, it just feels pointless when the justice league or whatever team they’ve put together for undercover missions does everything for us anyway,” euijoo huffs, hugging his ipad to his chest.

sunghoon rests his hand on euijoo’s shoulder, slinging his jacket over his own shoulder. “this station is the face of every case that comes to this city. no matter what kind of anonymous tips we get - or however timely or true those tips might be - we deliberate the truth and we have to search and give the people an answer. our job is no less important because whoever is helping us has gotten involved.”

“but you don’t ever get curious about who exactly is helping us?” euijoo asks, somewhat shamefully.

“hm. maybe? but if they want to reveal themselves, they will. no point in looking a gift horse in the mouth, right?”

euijoo doesn’t have much to say to that and sunghoon just smiles, passing him to lead the team to first the yacht bridge, and then ace chemicals. yujin and jake would be checking ace chemicals first so it would be easier for them to examine things in peace if the detective team (and the horde of reporters that would be sure to follow) headed to the yacht bridge first.

plus, rich people were impatient. and pushy.

“alright,” sunghoon begins, clapping his hands. “let’s find these assholes.”

the motorcycle ride to the yacht bridge wasn’t that far. maybe twelve or thirteen minutes at maximum. but those thirteen minutes felt like absolute torture all the way through.

sunghoon preferred motorcycles because he liked feeling the wind whipping his jacket and at his hair when he wasn’t feeling like following rules. he loved the feeling of feeling superhuman in his speed and agility as he raced down the streets of gotham. it also could have been the time that sunghoon had spent with eunwoo rubbing off on him, now that he thought about it. 

but now, with all of these reporters hot on his heels, hounding him with questions that they were screaming over the howling winds, it was absolute torture. sunghoon could barely concentrate on the road in front of him from the sheer multitude of questions that he was being barraged with. 

sunghoon’s thoughts lead him to ardor, as a way to distract himself from the questions that he was pretending he couldn’t hear. 

she was probably spending time with jay and soojin around this time, wasn’t she? maybe catching up on the current events that she’d missed out on in all of her time trapped in that dimension? or possibly eating foods that she didn’t even know existed? knowing soojin, she was definitely showing ardor some sort of show or movie. jay was probably just happy to be around soojin and soojin was always happy to welcome new people into the den, since the only two permanent residents of the den were jay and soojin.

his mind goes back to something that eunwoo had said as sunghoon was on his way out.

eunwoo was a relatively stoic person and wasn’t shaken or moved by much. he didn’t really have intense highs but he also didn’t have intense lows, and while that had annoyed sunghoon when he was looking for affection that eunwoo simply couldn’t provide, it proved to be helpful and necessary every time sunghoon found himself shaking with the intensity of his emotions when he was going through his teenage years.

so for eunwoo to grab sunghoon’s elbow as he’s on his way out of the cha manor, his eyes downcast and contemplative… it was definitely a cause for concern for sunghoon.

“i don’t want to reveal too much because i’m not sure that it’s my place to share anything with the team when it’s a justice league issue but if what y/n is saying is true, the possibility that the justice league has a mole is quite frankly, worryingly high. i can’t tell you how to run the team and i’ll carry out my investigation as discreetly as possible but as someone in this field for longer than you have, i have some requests and some advice. first, i suggest that you keep y/n as close to you as possible. if word of the investigation leaks, the light will not hesitate to hurt her or maybe even kill her, depending on how desperate faust is. i trust the team but i trust you the most, sunghoon. second, this is my request, but you might consider adding her to the team. pyrokinetics are not a joke - and her flame doesn’t kill, which is even better. not to mention that if you take her on missions - ”

“we might discover something that she’s been keeping from us, intentionally or not,” sunghoon finished with a sigh, rubbing his hand over his face.

“you know?” eunwoo asked incredulously.

“not really, to be honest. but miss martian mentioned something about how she’s keeping something important from us. i’m pretty sure that not even she knows though. according to miss martian, it’s something that she knows is important but it’s behind a mental block - can’t tell if it’s a block from a magician or an emotional block. combat is pretty primal though; it unlocks parts of us that we don’t even know exist. so maybe after some training and survival techniques, ardor could be a good addition to the team. or maybe it’ll be a good way to release the stress or whatever mental blocks she has in her mind.”

eunwoo was quiet, watching sunghoon before shaking his head. “you really grew up too fast.”

“you’re still only a couple years older than me,” sunghoon replied but when he looked at eunwoo, he doesn’t see a scolding or discomfort welling up in his eyes - just unadulterated pride and joy in sunghoon’s growth.

“yeah. i know.”

sunghoon snaps out of his thoughts, parking the bike in front of the entrance into the yacht bridge, flashing his detective badge at the attendant in the front - although he’s pretty sure he doesn’t need to, since there’s only one detective that was always called upon in strange cases like this: him. 

“show me the way,” he says, trying his best to offer a charming smile. the attendant just sneers, pressing a button to open the gates into the yacht bridge with an unimpressed look, distrust swimming in his eyes and sunghoon does it best to keep it from affecting him.

today was going to be a long day.

[march 19, 20XX, 6:59 p.m.]

[mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

sunghoon collapses on the sofa in the living area of mount justice, a defeated look on his face, a wet cloth draped over his face to release the heat that he felt was practically coming off of him in waves after getting off of work just prior to using the zeta tubes to reach mount justice.

“gotham city giving you some trouble?” soojin asks, sliding a plate of cookies over to where the heaping lump of sunghoon was.

“not really,” sunghoon sighs before taking the wet cloth off of his face. “never mind. yeah, it seems like one of our cases is a little more complicated than i had anticipated. don’t mind me though. are yujin and jake here yet?”

“they said something about a double date earlier so i doubt that they’ll get back until at least eight.” soojin munches on the cookies, nose crinkling in satisfaction as she analyzes the taste. “wow, y/n’s a good baker. can’t believe she didn’t share how talented she was before.”

“y/n made these?” sunghoon asks, staring at the cookies apprehensively. they’re a perfect golden-brown, with chocolate chips added generously to each one. “they honestly look store bought.”

“nope. i made them from scratch,” says a new voice in the room. y/n looks somewhat shy as she enters the room, carrying two plates of dinner served in each of them. “i’m learning like pyrokinetics are useful for cooking - and easier to use than stoves. i don’t really understand them.”

“you made dinner? with fire power?” sunghoon gawks, his stomach growls betraying him as he takes in the smell of the dinner that y/n had made. his arms reach out instinctively, and y/n hands him the plate gingerly, handing the other plate to soojin.

“i had a lot of help,” she says, hiding her hands behind her back to keep sunghoon from seeing the number of bandages on her hands from her clumsy first trials with using knives. knives = weapons in the dimension she was from, so she didn’t exactly have too much practice with them until now.

“don’t be humble. i didn’t do anything,” jay says, entering with two more plates of food. “i just showed her how refrigerators and garbage disposals worked.”

“you didn’t have refrigerators?” sunghoon says, turning to y/n, mixing the curry into the rice.

“no. i ate on a day to day basis so i never really needed one,” y/n says with a shrug, but sunghoon can see the sadness in her eyes. he takes a bite of the curry, as if to divert her attention and immediately, his eyes grow wide as he stares down at the plate.

how could curry even taste this good? was it even possible for chickpeas to taste like this? were these even chickpeas?

his eyebrows furrow as he analyzes the curry, trying to figure out exactly what she’d had added to make it taste so heavenly.

y/n take his silence in the opposite way that he meant it, however, and her face falls as she watches his reaction. “you don’t like it? i’m so sorry, i’m sure that soojin has some leftovers from lunch!”

sunghoon shakes his vigorously as she starts to move out of the room to heat up leftovers. “no! i mean, i love it. i genuinely was just taken aback by how good it is. i had no clue that you could cook like this, y/n.”

she blushes, the prettiest color rising in her cheeks. “it’s just some stuff that i’d picked up whenever i got bored. cookbooks are surprisingly easy to memorize and fun to read.”

“well whatever you did, you have got to teach me,” soojin says, her face scrunched up in pleasure. “this is so good, i feel like i’m gonna cry.”

“no kidding,” jay agrees, eyebrows furrowed in what looks like anger at just how good the dinner was.

“you guys are too sweet,” y/n says with a shy laugh, falling back into her seat when she’s met vehement protests at her humility, comparing her to some guy (gordon ramsey?) she’s not quite sure of.

“this is incredible,” sunghoon says, and his eyes shine when they meet with hers, causing her to avert her own eyes, his gaze heavy on her face.

“oh, i really hope there’s enough for yujin and jake when they get here. although, i kinda wanna get seconds. or thirds,” soojin says with a sigh of satisfaction.

“yujin’s coming?” y/n asks, perking up at the mention of artemis. “i haven’t seen her all day today.”

“yeah, they’ve been busy for the past couple days but jake’s been complaining that he’s lost his girlfriend to the new girl at mount justice. apparently yujin’s been worried about how you’re holding up, all the way on the other side of the country.” jay’s words cause y/n to descend into another flurry of bashful denial, smiling when she hears that her new friend would be returning to mount justice.

“speaking of those two, has jake talked to you guys about the proposal plans yet?” sunghoon asks, chewing slowly, as if that would make the food’s flavor last longer in his mouth. jay’s eyes dart between him, soojin, and y/n as if to ask silently if it was okay to let y/n in on secrets such as these - even if they weren’t exactly damning evidence for crucial missions.

we can trust her. i’ll explain later but for now, just know that whatever you could say to the team, you can say to her, sunghoon explains through the mindlink.

“oh yeah,” soojin says excitedly, clapping her hands. she turns to y/n with an excited twinkle in her eyes. “jake, yujin’s boyfriend and our resident speedster, is planning on proposing to yujin soon! he recruited our help to help make sure the whole day goes perfectly.”

y/n leans forward, equally enthusiastic as soojin. “really? that’s going to be so wonderful; i can’t even imagine how that would look like! gosh, i’m so excited.”

“has he decided on a date yet?” jay asks, the tension from before having evaporated when sunghoon confirmed that y/n was allowed to be privy to such information.

“he said something about a june date? after they graduate in may, for sure, and on a day when it’s sunny and calm out. he wants that to be the one day that things go according to plan,” sunghoon says with a snort, shaking his head at the antics of his best friend.

“can you blame him? it seems as though having things go according to plan is a luxury we do not experience very often in our field,” says a new voice, and the four of them turn to see heeseung enter the room with a motorcycle helmet in hand. “your helmet was about to become a chew toy for wolf, so i figured that i’d bring it to safety.”

y/n checks the entryway, perhaps as if to see if wolf, jay’s wolf friend and resident snuggle buddy, would follow his recently confiscated chew toy but it seemed that wolf had found satisfaction in other toys.

she’d seen him bite straight through concrete with unbridled enthusiasm the other day, so all she could hope was that his toy for the day wasn’t going to be her door. which was bulletproof metal, but she wasn’t exactly sure what that wolf was capable of.

“thanks heeseung. wanna grab dinner? y/n made it and it’s absolute heaven,” sunghoon says, pointing at the plate that he’d practically licked clean. heeseung nods, and the two of them head out of the living area to the kitchen to serve themselves.

“here, let me come with you. i can get dessert started too,” y/n says, standing up. “i got excited after learning how an oven worked - though i kinda ended up, uh, getting creative with my fire because that was faster - so i ended up making brownies too. anyone up for brownie ice cream?”

soojin and jay’s hands shoot up almost unbelievably quickly.

“wow, those speeds would put kid flash to shame,” sunghoon quips and soojin and jay just ignore him, scrambling to their feet as all of them make their way into the kitchen.

“just wait. you think this dinner and these cookies were good? those brownies put them all to shame,” jay says, pacing back and forth in the kitchen, not looking too unlike his canine companion.

“it seems that you have won the hearts of many, y/n,” heeseung says, a knowing twinkle in his eyes.

y/n just looks at him, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words. heeseung was the person that she was the least close to - bar sunghoon, but she was warming up pretty quickly to the ‘pretty boy detective’ as jay called him. heeseung, however, wasn’t around mount justice over the past few days that she’d been there for too long and it seemed like he always knew something that no one else did.

he probably did know, though. there was just some aura around him that made him seem incredibly all-knowing and wise.

“uh, y/n? are the brownies in the oven or in the fridge?” sunghoon asks, and y/n is successfully distracted, rushing over to the fridge to pull out the brownies she’d made earlier, flitting from the counter and the fridge to assemble the brownie ice cream.

once everyone had been served their portion (jay was a special exception to the only one brownie rule; super strength required special food sizes was his explanation), the five of them headed back to the couch area, soojin excitedly recounting jake’s proposal plan as well as she could through a mouthful of brownie and ice cream.

“she’s charged up,” sunghoon comments, leaning over to whisper in y/n’s ear. “she’s been pretty excited about this whole proposal thing.”

“i’m not sure if i’m right but it seems to be a hint to jay; i think she’s waiting for him to propose too,” y/n whispers back and sunghoon looks at her with wide eyes.

“really? does jay know that?” he asks and y/n shrugs, spooning ice cream into her mouth.

“i doubt it. i doubt that even soojin knows that how she’s coming across to others. or just me, i guess. it must be a ‘woman’s intuition’ type thing,” she explains, nodding along to whatever soojin was saying so as to appease her excitement.

“speaking of intuition, i have to ask you something, but i’ll ask you later, when there’s no one else here. i don’t want you to feel obligated or pressured into giving an answer because of people being around you,” sunghoon says under his breath, just loud enough for y/n to hear. he looks out of the corner of his eye to see her reaction but she’s surprisingly stoic, nodding just the slightest before jumping back into the conversation.

the little exchange goes unnoticed by jay and soojin but heeseung makes eye contact with sunghoon and tilts his head, almost imperceptive to the untrained eye. sunghoon just blinks and heeseung is appeased. nothing serious. just want to ask her something.

sunghoon was pretty sure that as the most quiet members of the team, heeseung and sunghoon could conduct entire conversations without a single word.

sunghoon had picked that up from eunwoo and heeseung was just…heeseung.

the conversation is interrupted when the zeta tubes announce the presence of the missing team members, jake and yujin.

they hear jake and yujin conversing in low tones before joining the group, setting down their duffel bags (team gear) and backpacks (school gear) before taking a seat on the loveseat opposite sunghoon and y/n.

heeseung looks around the room, with all of the loveseats fully occupied before looking down at his armchair, a soft laugh escaping his lips. and so he was in the armchair. alone. while the loveseats were occupied with duos and couples. huh.

“how is everyone doing today?” yujin asks, breaking the silence that had fallen over the group.

“good! oh, you guys need to try y/n’s cooking - she made dinner and it’s absolutely heavenly,” soojin says, ushering jake and yujin into the kitchen. jake and jay follow her (the latter most definitely going for another helping) but yujin stops when she reaches where y/n is sitting, extending her hand to clasp y/n’s gently.

“hope you’re adjusting well?” she asks and y/n nods, honey practically dripping from her eyes.

“yeah. jay and soojin have been really welcoming. and sunghoon! and heeseung, of course,” y/n adds the last two names hurriedly, bowing her head at the two men. “everyone has been really kind.”

“that’s good to hear,” yujin says with a soft grin before her gaze shifts to sunghoon. “captain? i think that we’ve got a few things that we need to discuss.”

she looks down at where y/n is still holding her hand and reluctantly lets go. “and i think that y/n should be there too. classification omega.”

sunghoon is taken aback. the events of the yacht bridge and chemical factory were strange, most definitely, but he’d expected something along the lines of arkham asylum’s inmates staging some level of a robbery. something more novel. classification IV, at most.

classification omega? that really only meant sunghoon, yujin, and heeseung could be in attendance. not that they couldn’t trust the rest of the team but classification levels were more based on just how much members were willing to give for the team. classification levels were more for the safety of the members, rather than anything else.

so information at that classification level made sunghoon worry but yujin’s expression seems more puzzled than grim so sunghoon just nods, offering y/n an appeasing smile when she looks between the three of them, searching for answers.

“i’ll explain when we get a chance to talk,” yujin says, her gaze fixed on y/n and it’s obvious that the words are meant to put y/n at ease, rather than offer any hints to either of them about what she could’ve possibly discovered in gotham. it seems to work when y/n’s shoulder descend from their tensed state just the slightest.

the other three return, with jake holding an extra plate of dinner for yujin as well and the air in the room turns lighthearted once more. both yujin and y/n seem to turn off the serious mindset they were simmering in as if it were a light switch. but sunghoon is unable to take his mind off of yujin’s words.

his questions are answered even without an explanation when he hears y/n scream just twenty-six minutes later.

[march 19, 20XX, 8:26 p.m.]

[belle rêve prison]

“you heard what?” one of the inmates asks incredulously. icicle sr. shivers, almost as if a chill had run down his spine, and shakes his head, suppressing any sign of fear as he restates what he’d heard that night.

belle rêve prison wasn’t exactly known for its hospitality but there were very few conditions when it came to cold weather that startled icicle sr. - but the reason why it felt as though there was a cold air in the room had nothing to do with temperature.

“i heard the canary scream. cry. whatever those justice freaks call it. but when we got to ace chemical factory, there was nothing there. no canary, nothing. not a single feather on the ground,” icicle sr. grinds out, and to the other inmates, it seems as though he’s angry that he had to repeat himself. but to icicle jr., his son and the newest addition to belle rêve’s top gang, he can see that the grit in his teeth is from pure, unadulterated fear.

which made icicle jr. want to piss his fucking pants.

there was very little that scared his father. so if it scared his father, it sure as hell scared him.

“you heard the cry but you didn’t see the bird?” another inmates says with a cocky expression. his words don’t carry the pomp he tries to convey them with since his voice trembles a bit too much to take him seriously.

“she’s not usually in gotham unless there’s a fight to pick with someone,” another inmate points out. icicle sr. is silent as the prison cafeteria breaks out into a cacophony of different people trying to give their input on what exactly had happened for black canary to appear in gotham all of a sudden.

“dad? you’re kinda quiet,” icicle jr. says and his father side-eyes for a long moment before shaking his head.

“it’s not her. it can’t be her.”

“why?”

“because…it wasn’t her voice. not that voice means anything when that goddamn scream is so loud. but it’s just not her. i know that.”

which meant that there was someone else in gotham who could utilize the canary cry.

[march 19, 20XX, 8:26 p.m.]

[mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

sunghoon and yujin burst into a sprint the moment they can. that is, the moment that y/n stops screaming. sunghoon’s thoughts are all over the place as he tries to recon what had just happened.

the team had dispersed into different locations after dinner. jay and soojin had decided to leave mount justice to catch a late night movie while jake had with them when yujin broke the news that some of their findings were classification omega. he’d sulked at first (mostly about having to part from yujin again) but jay had enticed him into coming with them with promises of buying popcorn at the movie theater - as though they hadn’t just had three servings of dinner.

it was just yujin and sunghoon standing in the kitchen while heeseung went to make a call to a friend from atlantis (sunghoon had no clue that atlantis had cellphone reception). the two of them were silent, even though there were many words that had to be shared. it was as though neither of them knew how to share them and they were stuck in a standstill as they waited for y/n to return from the restroom for a quick shower and heeseung from his phone call.

sunghoon had just turned to yujin to ask her what she had found when an ear-piercing scream erupts from where the restroom across y/n’s room was. sunghoon and yujin both stumbled backwards, trying to regain their balance before setting off into a sprint, too many questions in their minds to think straight.

which brought sunghoon to the current moment, where y/n was standing next to her bed, clutching something shiny in her hands, wolf beside her, curled up into a ball of guilt and shame, his ears drooping as he looked up at the grief-stricken y/n.

her lips were still shaped as an ‘o’ as though she wanted to scream but she couldn’t find it within her to do so.

it takes less than three seconds for sunghoon to understand the situation: a) wolf had broken into her room while y/n was showering and had unknowingly destroyed something valuable to her. b) she possessed something valuable to her; something from the other dimension. c) she also had the canary cry - something that sunghoon had never heard of anyone else having besides black canary. d) the glass filled with water on her nightstand had shattered to pieces.

e) y/n faust was in gotham the night of the yacht bridge and ace chemical factory break ins. 

what the hell were they going to do now?

[yippeeometer]

itty bitty little northeast hcs bc the asks r dry :(((

they are NOT fun cool life of the party they are SAD GAY LOSERS i do feel this should be broadcast on national tv to confirm the canonness.

that being said. one family dinner with them is actually illegal under the geneva convention due to high level of mental torture.

things start off lovely. they go to maine's little cabin-in-the-woods (STEPHEN KING MY FRIENDS, ITS NOT COTTAGE VIBES!). he will make you wait outside if you are late. he locks the doors and laughs.

unfortuantely, they will not be within five feet of each other during baseball season, under a rule so important gov considers adding it to the constitution.

it is like a grandpa convention lets not lie to ourselves bc there's definitely a part in the night where they just reminisce about the war and vermont will show up with printed-out pictures of some battle monument model he made bc even maine's terrible signal wont stop him.

they have to get new york there by physical force, bc he is doing his level best to sneak his way out. sorry its shabbat (it's actually a tuesday). sorry lost my voice can't come (he's only over said 10 words max). sorry been hit by a car (typa guy to genuinely try and walk off a broken leg).

they have to battle not to bring up politics ooohhh because you know mass's eye is twitching at the thought of being able to debate. connecticut threatens to report him to the authorities as a communist threat. he threatens to throw him through the wall. this is normal sibling behaviour.

typa emotional repression where they'll just be arguing and bickering as normal when one of them will drop the most gut-wrenching sickening personal lore and they all will just refuse to mention it.

oooooohhh yk its got a kick to it when ur sat across from someone who literally took bllets for you telling you ab how life is collapsing around them. anyways new hammy made a salad w craisins and we better switch the topic to that.

speaking of. half of the food is completely inedible. rhode island spent so many years a pirate he has no idea how much salt is too much salt. you CAN eat delaware's food but also be aware he's known for chemical manufacturing so its a 50/50 chance you'll make it.

jersey and york, arguably the only two good cooks, are not allowed to bring food bc they unfortunately suffer from chronic cant-understand-our-families-r-from-different-italian-regions-and-food-might-be-different syndrome.

for some inexplicable reason PA becomes group DJ. the only songs on his phone are 'brand new city' by mitski and 'dont stop the party' by pitbull.

[bw2]

I don't watch family guy no more

I never watch family guy

Except for little bit of cleveland brown

Never watch family guy

Maybe once in a while, a little bit of glenn quagmire But that's okay, not right now, I got things to do

'Cause I don't watch family guy no more

I never watch family guy

But Road to the multiverse, thats not family guy It's an incredible journey through multiverse of rhode island

Fightin' for your life and fightin for stewie griffin

Try to eat some pie and watch mort get beat to death

That's not a show, that's an adult thing

That's not a show at all

That's like fuckin' Simpsons

giggity-giggity-giggity-giggity-giggity-giggity-goo

You know I don't watch family guy no more

Tiny bit-a family guy

I guess I still watch fuckin' family guy

[the-state-of-georgia-official]

well hey there, darlin! s'pose I should introduce myself, I'm the state of Georgia official tumblr page! (For legal reasons, this is a joke)

i hope to see y'all stickin' around, and if there's anythin on your mind, just ask away, darlin, alright?

lemme know if I can get y'all anything to eat or drink and I'll see ya around!!

oh yeah also I'll edit for tags as I make em, but so far I think

• #ask georgia for asks

• #georgia speaks for just regular text posts

• #it's alright‚ flor‚ honey‚ i'm just teasin for teasing Florida

• #favorite siblings for my favorite siblings (so far, Virginia/ @virginia-state-official, Florida/ @state-of-florida-official, Indiana/ @definitely-indiana, Illinois/ @unofficial-illinois, and Rhode Island/ @official-rhode-island)

• #siblings say things for reblogs from other US states (and the US Navy I think)

• #reblogs from dad are things I reblog from my dad, @official-the-united-states

• #children of georgia for reblogs from my children (currently just @atlanta-unofficial , @atlanta-official , @atlanta-city-official , and @thatoneacerobot as far as I know)

• #new friend? for befriending other blogs and gimmick blogs

• #but not really cuz it's just the mod ooc tag for when the mod speaks

• #friends of georgia for other blogs and gimmick blogs I'm friends with (Ireland/ @definitelytherepublicofireland, Sanrio/ @its-sanrio-official, @pigeonlikesbread, Cape Breton/ @cape-breton-island-itself, BJs/ @def-bjs-guys,

KFC/ @k-f-c-official, @i-bless-your-heart, Australia/ @true-blue-straya, Russia/ @russia-totallyofficial, @onceinalifetimexperiencebuttwice,

the actual Catholic church [/silly]/ @the-real-catholic-church, the British Antarctic Territories/ @real-britishantarcticterritories, Gmail/ @the-real-gmail, Kroger/ @kroger-fr,

@irishfry , Medford Oregon/ @medford-oregoppenheimer, Germany/ @germany-official for their based opinions on candy corn, and Raleigh North Carolina/ @raleigh-nc-official-totally-real)

• #speaking about siblings for when other blogs or gimmick blogs mention my siblings

• #family of georgia not siblings, not dad, but a secret third thing (other family members in our family tree like @non-tyrannical-usa/my aunt and @100percent-shell-oil/my stepdad)

• #and georgia says bing sucks‚ use duckduckgo instead for the war against Bing because L Bing...and also just in general for reblogging stuff from Bing

• #and georgia says FUCK THE TRANSPHOBES for tagging things about bigots of any kind. Transphobes, homophobes, ableists, terfs, aphobes, etc. Fuck bigots, all my homies hate bigots.

• #a house divided against itself cannot stand‚ but somehow this one is managing- for tagging state feuds (I'm looking at you, @maryland-officially and @ohio-thestate /lhsilly)

• #fellow Georgian 🫵 /lhsillyy is for when I meet/find fellow Georgians...just came up with that today (8/16) tho, so sorry if you're a Georgian and I haven't tagged your previous asks or posts as such...I'll do that next time though ^^

• #georgia polls the people of tumblr for the rare occasion I decide to post a poll

• #I love you a bushel‚ and a peck‚ and a hug around the neck for reblogs from my in character twin, @washington-offical / @washington-offical-2

• #unhinged posts wheel for asks to add to a wheel to spin when I'm bored for unhinged things to post on this blog

• #uwu owo so siwwayy for that time I got uwuified

...wait, now I gotta uwuify all my usual tags- *sigh* hold on...

• #ask geowgia an uwuified version of my usual ask tag

• #but n-n-nyot weawwy cuz is jus da mod x3 an uwuified version of my usual ooc tag

• #geowgia speaks OwO an uwuified version of my usual regular text post tag

• #speaking abyout sibwings ÚwÚ an uwuified version of my usual tag for when other blogs or gimmick blogs mention my siblings (other state blogs and also the US Navy I think...usually for in character stuff)

• #f-fwiens of geowgia uwu an uwuified version of my usual tag for other blogs and gimmick blogs I'm friends with

• #sibwings say fings an uwuified version of my usual tag for reblogging things from other state blogs (and the US Navy)

• #new fwend? OwO an uwuified version of my usual tag for befriending other blogs and gimmick blogs

• #famiwy of geowgia ^w^ an uwuified version of my usual family tag

• #fuck‚ it's memory loss time... for that time @anonymous-thief-of-memories deleted my memories...look, I'm sORRY FOR TURNING YOU INTO A GECKO, BRUH, OK- TT TT IT WAS AN ACCIDENT-

• #nature is healing~ for any posts related to the aftermath of the memory wipe incident

• #what in the freaky friday is going on here /sillyj for that one time an anon turned me into my six year old self...no I'm not kidding and YES I know that's not what freaky friday is about, but I couldn't think of a better analogy

• #High off my gourd-gia for that time I accidentally got high off paint fumes...it's happened before, so chances are it'll happen again-

• #anon hates peaches for the anon hate saga. I wanna keep it in case I wanna look back and giggle at my responses :3 ...or cry if it's anon anti-hate BC y'all are so nice to me- 🥺🥹

Also my playlist in case it gets lost in the reblogs:

Adding this to the end for shits n giggles...if you scrolled down this far, hi lmao-

[ohsweetflips]

5, 6, 12, and 16 for Rhodes please? ☺️

i flipped 5 & 6 bc i realized i could put them in somewhat-chronological order <333 :)

-----------------------------------------------------

6. Healer’s summary of treatment for Rook’s wounds

A haphazard note written by the Veiljumper's healer about Rhodes, approximately 6 years before they were recruited by Varric and Harding. Takes place after disarming a relic went horribly and they were promptly electrocuted. Seems to be more instructional for dealing with Rhodes than instructions for Rhodes.

Do NOT let patient tell you that they are "okay to get up and go." Rhodes doesn't know what they're talking about. They don't remember all of us worried that their heart was going to stop at any moment. Any medical discharge must be approved by me.

Dawn Lotus and Elfroot to soothe pain. Prophet's Laurel as well if it's unbearable (you can tell by the sweat on their brow).

Patient is often restless. Might have to assign someone just to keep them company. Or ask Amylia to stop in when she closes shop - she's rather fond of them.

Royal Elfroot, Rashvine, and Deep Mushroom for the burns themselves. Will scar, no doubt, but this will at least help ward off infection. Even Rhodes is a bit squeamish over their wounds.

Do not let patient take off bandages. Telling them that we will get Strife involved doesn't work. Been telling Strife that he's too soft on them. Find me - I know they're uncomfortable, but I'm not having an infection on top of this. Elfroot can help them relax.

Tell Strife to have scouts search for more Arbor Blessing. I would rather not have another close call like this.

Patient has trouble sleeping. Try not to disturb them too often. I can check on them if necessary throughout the night.

Kid's got to be more careful. "But I'm fine, and the others were able to disarm the relic anyway." I don't think they realize how close they were to death. Sylaise help them, truly.

5. A conversation overheard between Rook and a companion

A conversation overheard between Rook and Harding, about three or four months after Rook's recruitment.

Rhodes: "Do you miss it? Being with the Inquisition?"

Harding: "Hm... kind of? Being a scout, I was able to travel all over and actually see what was going on. How pretty or abandoned or... eerie some of the places were. All before anyone else from the Inquisition got there. And then I got to be the one to tell the Inquisitor about it!"

H: "But then, on the other hand... I like being here. Being a part of the adventure. Being able to make decisions and help call the shots, you know? Varric still takes lead but it doesn't feel like I'm working for him. Well, not that the Inquisitor made me feel- the idea of the 'Inquisitor' is so much more intimidating than he actually - anyways! I like being a part of the action. Plus, you're here! I wouldn't want anyone else!"

R: "... Really?"

H: "Yes! You're good at what you do and you're my friend and - don't look at me like that! You'll make me cry!"

R: "I'm just happy to be here!"

Varric: "Listen kid, Harding, I love this moment we're all having here. But we're about, ah, five minutes out from meeting some pretty tough people who won't want to deal with the whole crying... feelings... heart-to-heart sort of thing going on."

R: "Right, right... wait, Harding, what was eerie about what you did with the Inquisition? Didn't you just... go and look at places?"

H: "Have you ever been to swamps where corpses crawled out of the water? Twice?"

12. Rook’s daily schedule

A scribbled list on a torn piece of notebook paper. Found knocked off a table in Rook's room. Before the battle of Tearstone Island.

Morning:

Wake up (around 08:00). Bathe (to actually wake up). Brush and braid hair. Coffee with Lucanis and Neve. Magic training - see if can finally get that new spell. Help Lace garden. Eat and review where we have to go next.

Late Morning:

Davrin and Taash are training - go see how they're doing. (Tell Lace?) Go check in with Bellara - make sure she's eaten today. Relax with friends (if possible). If not: get ready to head into field. Fix hair (if need to). Apply cosmetics (if feeling like it). Reorganize pack. Head out.

Afternoon:

If out in field: save world. If at Lighthouse: Stone-parchment-shears with Manfred (Emmrich says it's probability, I swear it's strategy). Play with Train Assan. Visit Emmrich - go for walk outside? or watch Manfred's magic lesson. If not too late: go visit Veiljumpers.

Evening/Dinner:

Go see what Neve's doing - help reorganize office if wisps are at it again. If weekly group dinner: help out (dish duty, again). If not: Prepare something with Davrin. Have dinner together. Clean up.

Night:

If out in field: return. If not: Spend time with Davrin. Talk about our day. Bathe again (most likely). Brush out hair. Get ready for bed (now with Davrin).

16. Letter from Rook to their love interest

A letter carefully written from Rook to the warden, Davrin, while he is away at Weisshaupt to help train the griffons. Before the battle of Tearstone Island.

Davrin,

Emmrich says that, since I miss you, and because you're going to be gone for a while, I should write to you. He said I could just tell you about my day and gave me a piece of his own paper.

[An arrow drawn pointing to an elegant letterhead, courtesy of the Grand Necropolis]

I don't write a lot. I don't have good penmanship. I hate that I can't talk to you right now.

This is weird because

I've never had

I'm not used to wanting to talk to someone who isn't here. It's just me, or everyone is just there.

You make things different. I wish you were here.

[A change in pressure of the ink, as if a break was taken in between writing]

Emmrich is really happy with Manfred's magic. He asked me if I wanted to watch one of his magic lessons (how I got the paper). He thinks Manfred's trying to learn electrical spells because he nearly set a rug on fire with this weird, purple fire. He's doing good, though! No major new burns in Emmrich's library.

I helped Taash train today. Made me hold some of their weights while sitting on their back. They told me to tell you that they could do 27 push-ups like that and now it's your turn, "unless you're scared." I told them you could do more!

[A simply drawn smiley-face]

Lucanis is planning a fancy dinner for Neve tonight. When I checked in, Lace was helping him. I think she wants to do something for Taash. The kitchen already smells amazing. If we ask nicely, we can probably get him to make some for us when you get back.

I'm writing this with Bellara while she's reading. She's been keeping me company tonight. It's for the book club. She said she likes it, but the romance happened too early. She loves the characters.

Everyone says hi!

I hope you're having a nice time in Weisshaupt. Are the flowers still blooming? Tell Mila that I say hi. Give Evka and Antoine my love. And pet the griffons for me. Assan gets extra.

I miss you and Assan. It's not the same without you here. I want to go with you next time. I like just existing with you.

Please write back.

I love you!

Yours,

Rhodes

In return, Rhodes receives a lovingly written letter with a pressed blue flower.

[abcwordsurge]

hi bee my buddy bee! can you kinassign ninjago characters to some wttt characters? like which character is like who. i havent watched ninjago since i was a little kid,, so i cant remember much but id love you to tell me about it :^]

the absolute delight I felt when I saw this ask was incredible. I had a long car drive this afternoon (well, as of the time of posting, yesterday) and thinking about this ask was the perfect way to spend it. of course, now it's time to write down all those thoughts. this is going to get LONG. (if you want to hear about ninjago, then, heh, you came to the right place.) I'll put it all under a cut. first, though, you are absolutely wonderful and thank you so much for this ask :]

gonna go in order of when I thought of them. which means, first up is my favorite ninja!

--

Nya - Rhode Island

the most obvious reason for this connection is the mutual hot headedness. they are both so quick to anger, and both tend to hold grudges for far longer than is normal.

but it's more than that. both of them feel an urge to compensate for what they perceive as a disadvantage. for Rhodey, of course, it's his height. (he is, as always, very self conscious about his height.) for Nya, it's her gender. I mean, she spent four seasons being excluded from the other ninja for her gender, and for plenty of the other seasons, she was still pushed to the sidelines. of course she has a little bit of internalized misogyny. (side note- I do think that's why she seems so determined to not enjoy traditionally "feminine" things. because she thinks it makes her weak. I'd actually love to write a fic where she goes on a girl's day out with Pixal and Skylor and learns to respect feminity and start dealing with her internalized misogyny. but anyway.)

last thing for this duo: Nya is, of course, the master of water, and Rhodey is the ocean state. it's just perfect

--

Kai - Ohio

the best description I've ever seen of Kai was something along the lines of "he's not hot headed so much as he is reckless and in a bit of a rush." Ohio is much the same. he's called the Florida of the midwest, but he can't quite reach the levels of chaos that Florida sets. he's just... reckless and in a bit of a rush.

beyond that, both of them are definitely comic relief sorts of characters. both are goofy and a little airheaded, and both are pretty intense in a very amusing way. still, both are very friendly and like to be around people (even if they tend to be somewhat overbearing, and tease people more than they might like)

and I would be remiss not to mention their mutual pyromania. that's half the reason I thought of them as a duo so quickly.

--

Cole - Loui

this one's pretty straightforward. they're both very relaxed and down to earth (cough cough master of earth cough). they're both loyal to a fault. although reasonable on their own, if they have the right partner, they can be quite chaotic. for Loui, that partner would be, of course, Florida. for Cole, it could really be any of the other ninja in the right circumstances- but the first to come to mind is Jay. (or maybe Kai. it depends.)

they also both love food. for Loui, this manifests more as making and sharing food. for Cole, it's more so... eating food. (he has tried, countless times, to cook for his friends, but it never goes well. Zane has all but banned him from the kitchen.)

--

Faith - New York

interestingly enough, this is the only pair on this list where I thought of the state first, then came up with a connecting ninjago character. now, Faith is a very minor character, so just so you know, she's a dragon hunter in season nine.

she and York both have massive anger issues, and tend to take them out physically (either by yelling / making general sounds of annoyance, or by kicking things around). they're both quite gruff, pretty no nonsense, don't take crap, etc. neither of them are very friendly, but they're competent, and useful to have around. good people at heart, but it takes a while to get to that heart.

--

Harumi - Nevada

this started as "they're both attractive and they know it." both absolutely have the potential to be villains. it's realized for Harumi, but for Nevada it's more of a theoretical "what if they got bitter at their unfair treatment and to 'fix' things they burned down the entire nation." they're both good actors, and good liars.

the biggest reason I kinassigned them, though, is because in the end, they'd both follow orders. for Harumi, this happens in season fifteen. she always seems to end up in a spot where her freedom is dependent upon doing what's told of her. as for Nevada, well. we've seen it in their joining the table video. they literally have to do what Gov says.

--

Jay - Cali

both of them will talk your ear off if given the chance. I feel like both tend to feel like outsiders, both are desperate to be liked and feel like part of the team, and both are kinda losers (/aff).

Jay is very quick to share what he's feeling, and his attitude is very much "if I think it, you hear it." Cali is this way too, in a sense, though usually it's more facts and correcting other people for Cali. but the main point is that they're both certified yappers.

--

Pixal - Iowa

I absolutely love both of these characters, and both of them are very underrated. they both tend to blur into the background, and they're far too easy to ignore. (which makes sense for Iowa, since there are fifth states and Ben can't exactly give all of them all of his attention, but Pixal? come on, ninjago writers, you can at least pretend to care about her existence.)

however, when they do show up, both of them are genuinely very nice, both are dedicated and detail-oriented, and if given the chance, both can be quite sassy. ("every part of me is annoyed!" is a Pixal line that lives in my head rent free. I love her.)

--

Wyldfyre - Massachusetts

when I started this list, I told myself, "no dragons rising characters," in a useless attempt to not be writing till the sun goes down. but come on. this is just too perfect. both of them are energetic and kinda rude and very impatient, both of them are loud and obnoxious at times (/aff), and both of them are far too eager to start a war.

the real thing though? both of them care so, so much about their family. for Mass, that's the northeast (especially Maine and New York come to mind- "no one gets to kill you but me" is an iconic protective Mass quote). for Wyldfyre, that's Kai and Heatwave. (side note- Kai and Wyldfyre are The duo ever, they're so cute together. if you don't know who they are, I want to be clear, it's like a father daughter dynamic ((Wyldfyre is WAY younger than Kai)), and it's hilarious.)

--

Skylor - Arizona

both are hot, though with Arizona it's temperature, and with Skylor it's, well, look at her. also don't tell me Ari wouldn't have hair just like Skylor's. he would love that long red ponytail look.

also, both are very dangerous. Arizona has his rough terrain and all the animals and cacti that want to kill you, and Skylor has super op powers (they had to change the conditions of her powers in the later seasons because otherwise there wouldn't be any drama- Skylor would just win the war all by herself). however, despite what they could do to either hurt or help people, I think if given the chance, both would be totally chill and, I dunno, run a noodle shop for the rest of their life. and y'know what? love that for them.

--

Zane - Alaska

ok, last one, finally. I at first saw the connection between these two that they are both very cold. they're both quite reasonable and intelligent, not to mention large and basically indestructible. (has anyone counted how many times Zane has died so far? seven, maybe? and he's still kicking!)

in a bit deeper sense, though, they're both outsiders. for Alaska, this is, of course, due to geography. for Zane, it's because he's a nindroid, and despite his best efforts, he doesn't quite understand what it's like to be human. they are different in that Alaska tries to avoid the others and Zane tries to understand and be a part of the others, but nonetheless.

--

alright! this is far, far from a comprehensive list. I didn't do all of the characters- hell, I didn't even do all of the main characters. but that is all of the strong connections I can make between characters, and besides, I think this post is long enough haha. this was so fun to answer, thank you so much for asking this, you are incredible <3 /p