#because arthur would totes be this extra

[readerinsertfanfiction]

The Secret Santa Code

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Character: Arthur Conan Doyle

Prompt: The first part of my Secret Santa for @tsubaki3192​. My poor victim had to go through this entire story to get to the password for part 2 of her story, of which the masterlist I have already shared. But you don’t have to, luckily, you just have to click the link at the end. 😉😉😉

I hope you enjoyed Secret Santa, mrs. Toyotomi! Forgive my great love for puzzles and abusing Arthur for my nefarious purpose. 😂😂😂

One cold morning in a mansion hidden in the forest --just outside of the city of Paris in the late 19th century-- there was quite an uproar. A door, the door was found itself securely locked and shut, not because of frost but because of a lock. 

“Now, who would do this?” a certain author spoke, his eyes glimmering and glittering at the thought of another puzzle to solve. As unfortunate as it was for a certain lady, Arthur definitely didn’t mind this little diversion of the mind. And it wasn’t only because he could claim her for a little while longer. 

“And not just any lock,” he exclaimed further, taking the strange key in hands. Seven slots, he examined it to have. Seven slots in which one had to put in letters instead of numbers, making the possible combinations all the more greater. There were a fair amount of options to approach the matter, but the detective writer found no fun in menial tasks. Instead he pulled the paper that was in the hands of the lady that had tried to leave through that very door. 

“Now, what adversaries have you made, my dearest Tsu?” 

No answer came, for no answer was known. It even puzzled Arthur himself for he could not imagine anyone disliking a woman as lovely as Tsubaki. One glance at the paper told him enough, however and Arthur’s eyes widened as his smile broadened:

“By jove! This is a blessing in disguise,” he exclaimed jovially and one could tell that his mind was already churning and whirring trying to crack the code. Tsubaki could only throw the other a questioning look, wondering what exactly was a blessing with her being stuck and the door locked by another force keeping her away from where she truly wished to be. The man chuckled, keeping the rest of his thought to himself, but he did enjoy it very much.

“Now, you see, this coded message left behind is one of the dearest kind!” Arthur exclaimed as he flashed the note back to the female. “It will lead you to the key of this door,” he continued to explain and Tsubaki’s face only scrunched up further. She had figured out that much herself, but wasn’t looking forward to having to solve a complicated puzzle. Much less rearrange a nonsensical string of letters.

“Luckily for you,” Arthur snapped his fingers as he threw an arm around Tsubaki, pulling the other close against him as he winked, “my dove, I happen to be one of the greatest minds around and I sure do love helping a pretty lady out.”

With that he bopped her on the nose before taking out his infamous glasses and put them on, stepping into the focus he needed.

“Now, what do you notice about the seven lines you have received?”

The question was met with a quizzical look from Tsubaki who squinted her eyes at the lines, not really sure what she was supposed to say other than obvious.

“Take note how three and six are both exceptionally short compared to the rest. This tells me that a railroad code was used and that the code was rearranged in rows instead of columns!”

Confidently Arthur rearranged the sentences in the order that he believed them to have taken:

“Now, hear me out,” and for once Arthur was more than willing to explain his train of thoughts, for it was very logically based instead of assumptions and presumptions; 

“The reason I believe the third line to be the last, is because it has the fewest amount of letters. The creator of this little game probably didn’t bother filling out the empty spaces, which means that the last line is naturally going to be the most neglected,” the author continued as he smiled handsomely at Tsubaki, “now, kind as my soul is I shall spare you the explanation behind that theory, but I can see that the creator is one with interest in cryptology, but luckily not a mathematical genius.” 

And this he explained in a boastful way, puffing out his chest before he proceeded. “Now, if my theory proves true, then the first line would be the second-shortest! But you shall see why later if I’m right, and of course I shall be right!”

To this Arthur winked at Tsubaki who only kept quiet for that was the quickest way to solve this little Christmas mystery.

“But that only takes us halfway, you see! We have only figured out one part of the mystery, or two lines to be more precise” Arthur spoke as he waved around the pen in hands. “If we follow my theory that the creator of this puzzle did not bother to fill up the spaces, the lines that are the shortest after are supposed to come near the end,” with great grandeur Arthur started to rearrange once more:

“Now, the creator was so kind to leave us numbers in front of the sentences. This I believe was done with a key, just as many of these types are solved with a key. I dare say even that the key is the one you need for the door!”

To this Tsubaki perked up, because the door was still locked and she still very much needed it to get to where she wanted and that meant to leave. But Arthur wouldn’t be Arthur if he ended the game so quickly. Even if he had the key, the author liked his time with the female much too well. Just as he enjoyed her attention to him.

“The key we don’t have, yet. But I feel that the person behind this little game rearranged the word that is your key with the help of the alphabet After all, they didn’t leave behind many other hints and a good puzzle can only be good when they are solvable, even if it takes eons!”

“And lucky you are indeed to have me, for I have figured out the key!”

With that claim made the detective writer continued his little play, pushing up his glasses as ne started to scribble once more:

Reading over his shoulder Tsubaki lets a little gasp go as she realised that there was a pattern forming.

“You’re catching on, and I was right!” Arthur exclaims with pride. “Now, I will not bother you by writing the whole message out. But it is all rather simple now, just follow the wave, or rather the trail,” he winks at Tsubaki as he hands the letter over, charted and neatly written out.

But with the message solved there was another mystery that remained. It was the lock that had started all of this; the key that was needed for the door. Tsubaki was about to ask the man what the answer was before another finger laid against her lips, a mischievous glimmer in the face of the author who could only regrettably let her go.

“Allow me to give you one more riddle, for it pains me to let you go so soon. My apparent genius is too much even for me, for it is that what allows you to leave,” he dramatically exclaims before taking her hand, a kiss pressed on the back of it.

“What is the name of the one I love best?”

Tsubaki only had to think for a short moment before a blush spread out across her face and Arthur let her go with a bright smile and just a little regret.

Enter through the door for part 2 of the present...

[yepiamthesmileyface]

Just Friends(?)

[Image description: screenshot of an ask sent by @nemesis-is-my-middle-name​ reading “38 - Everyone thinks we’re already dating, but we’re just best friends- oh wait? (if ur taking prompts idk)” end image description]

Read it on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28347906

Going to a Denny’s after a case was always a gamble. On one hand, there was hot, cheap junk food at whatever ungodly time they wrapped up their investigation; but on the other, sometimes the Denny’s had specimens like this. Vivi sighed, shoving a huge bite of her pancakes in her mouth and trying to tune out the ravings of the old white man who had stormed up to their booth — at three in the morning, mind you — and started screeching about how you should be ashamed of yourselves, displaying such perversions in public!! and three people living in sin!!

Normally, Vivi would have at least been making snarky comments, if not actually challenging him to a fight for insulting her and her boys like that, but...she was tucked comfortably under Lewis’s arm, the hand that wasn’t holding her fork reached across and resting on Arthur’s thigh. Also, it was literally three in the morning, she was covered in mud and slime from chasing a giant frog-creature around in a nearby river, and she had been awake for twenty-one consecutive hours. She took another bite. The pancakes tasted extra good for the exhaustion and ache sunk into her bones, strawberry topping and whipped cream and thick fluffy pancakes and maple syrup...it was almost enough to get her to forget about the man shrieking at them. She glanced back over at him, idly noting that his face was turning an interesting shade of puce.

The waiter walked back over with the same jaded, unfazed look he wore when the three of them had staggered into the Denny’s, soaked to the bone and absolutely covered in muck. He folded his arms and stared at the old man. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re disturbing the other guests.” The old man turned to look at the waiter, puffing up not unlike the giant frog the Mystery Skulls had captured and returned to its actual habitat not half an hour ago, and rapidly deflating as he took in the completely impassive, almost dead-eyed stare of the late-night Denny’s waiter. He hurried out of the building, spitting one last insult about how they were all going to hell for living in sin. Given that he had used that particular phrase about nineteen times, it had kind of lost its fire, as far as Vivi was concerned.

Vivi felt some of the tension drain out of Lewis, and she turned her head, looking over at her boys. Lewis looked relieved and tired, catching her eye and smiling at her, soft and warm and completely unguarded. There was a streak of mud high on his cheek, almost matting in his no-longer-pristine hair. She smiled back, the expression billowing up like a balloon on a current of love, and reached up to wipe the smear away. Lewis leaned into her touch, and she cupped his cheek for a moment before wiping her hand on her skirt and leaning forward a little to peer around Lewis’s chest in order to check on Arthur. In contrast, Arthur looked like a live wire of tension, like he would either shatter or vault over the table and sprint away if anything else happened. Her smile dropped.

The waiter turned to them, ready with a scripted apology that actually carried a note of sincerity that Lewis quickly waved off. As he took care of talking to the waiter, Vivi leaned across him, patting Arthur’s leg quickly to get his attention. 

Arthur jumped, nearly hitting his knees on the table. Vivi felt a little guilty, but quickly pushed through. “Hey. It’s alright. He’s gone.”

Arthur met her gaze, eyes wide and grin forced. His hair hung limp around his face, framing him beautifully in dark gold. “Y-yeah. Plus — plu-plus, h-he — was, wasn’t even may-making any, any, any se-sen-se.”

She bit her lip. If his stutter was coming out that strong, he was either much more anxious or much more tired than she thought. Probably a combination of both. Pulling up a warm, playful grin from the depths of her chilled bones, she said, “Yeah. I mean, his argument was both really painfully dumb and also really Christian-centric! I mean, hello, not everyone is Christian, I’m definitely not, so, like…”

Arthur continued on like he hadn’t even heard her, leg starting to bounce under the hand she just realized she never moved. “I me-mean, I mean, he — h-he — we, we’re — I mean, we’re jus-just, just friends. Wh— I do-don’t kno— I dunno why h-he tho-thougth we we-were —”

Vivi felt Lewis freeze under her, and she wasn’t far behind. She felt breathless, like she had been punched in the gut, like he had slapped her in the face instead of saying those three little words bouncing around her head. We’re just friends?! “Wait. Wait, what?!” The words came out closer to a whine than she would have liked them to, but she was too stunned to really care.

At the same time, Lewis gasped like he had been shot. “You’re — are you breaking up with us?!” He sounded like he was two seconds away from bursting into loud sobs in the middle of this Denny’s.

Arthur’s mouth dropped open, and he stared at them with eyes the size of dinner plates. A stunned silence fell over their booth, broken only by the wavering sound of Lewis’s breathing.

Before any more drama could happen, Vivi held up her hand, forcing the words out past the cold spot that had taken up residence between her lungs. “No. Nuh-uh. Arthur, one word answer, and we’ll talk about this all when it’s tomorrow. Are you breaking up with us?”

Arthur opened and closed his mouth a few times before volunteering a tentative, “N-no…?”

Her shoulders slumped as she let out an explosive sigh. “Alright. Let’s — tomorrow? Tomorrow, when we’re not all so tired, we’re gonna talk about this, yes?”

Arthur nodded slowly, still boggling at them for some reason. Vivi was too tired to puzzle his behavior over properly, so she just glanced up at Lewis, who also nodded, unwinding his arm from around her to wipe at his face.

The rest of the night seemed to pass in snapshots to Vivi’s tired mind. Their dinner being boxed up. Walking back to the motel, just across the parking lot. Patting Mystery on the head and telling him he’s a good boy yes he is. Collapsing face first into the delicious crisp coolness of the starched motel bed. Lewis’s deep, tired chuckle as he took her glasses off her face. The weight of another body next to hers, but not the two she had become accustomed to after countless nights on the futon in the van. 

The next morning, she woke up slowly to the smell of coffee, and made to roll over so she could sit up. Instead, the world plummeted around her as she rolled right off the bed with a sharp, panicked yelp, caught in a devious trap of tangled blankets and sheets. A soft, almost stifled snort came from her left, and a pair of hands reached into the gordian knot of fabric, deftly untangling her. She squinted up at the blur of color and fuzz, the pale yellow-orange blur instantly recognizable as Arthur.

Vivi huffed, knowing full well he was smirking at her, the bastard. “Oh, like you’ve never rolled off the bed before.” She flailed her hand towards the bedside table, groping around blindly and not finding her quarry. “Where the hell’re —” A yawn interrupted her, wide enough to make her jaw crack. 

The Arthur-blur disappeared for a second, and when he came back, he slipped her glasses into her hands, his hands nice and warm where they made contact with hers. “Lew had ‘em over on his side of the bed for some reason.”

She slipped her glasses on, and the world came into rose-tinted focus. “Thanks, Artie.” She looked around the motel room, noting a distinct lack of giant purple-headed fops and talking dogs, and frowned. “Speaking of, where is he?”

“He’s grabbing all our meds from the van, I think. At least, I’m hoping he’s grabbing all of ours, he just said he’d get the meds, but I didn’t —” Arthur cut himself off with a swig from his travel mug. “Oh, and Mystery took himself out for a walk a couple’a minutes ago.”

Vivi laughed. “He’s probably definitely grabbing all of our meds. Did he make coffee, or did you?”

“It’s from the breakfast buffet, actually. Burnt, but not horrible. Better than that place in Staccatto, anyway,” Arthur shrugged, walking over to sprawl on the couch. “I grabbed you a cup, too, don’t worry.”

“The mud we were wading around in yesterday woulda been better coffee than that place in Staccatto,” Vivi grumbled, picking herself up and making a beeline for the coffee. “I’m pretty sure it was dirt. At least fifty percent dirt.” Leaning against the wall as she drank, she picked at the feeling that she was forgetting something. Something important, not just the fact that she forgot to shower last night and as such was still covered in itchy, flaky mud and sweat and her socks were sagging down without fresh sock glue — she shook her head to clear it. She was forgetting something important, something that had happened the night before. The case had gone well, they were paid half upfront and they would get the other half later that day, Lewis was getting their meds, breakfast was either the buffet or leftovers...leftovers. Wait. Her eyes widened as the whole Denny’s escapade came back to her in a flash. The bigoted old man who had practically burst a vein yelling at them, Arthur’s comment about them being just friends — but he wasn’t breaking up with them, apparently???

Downing the rest of the coffee in one gulp, she glanced towards the door, then back to Arthur. She should wait, Vivi told herself sternly. She should wait for Lewis, because Lewis was an important part of their relationship, and he should not be left out of serious relationship discussions.

Luckily, she was saved from the antsy feeling creeping around under her shoulder blades by the sound of the door opening. Lewis ducked in, a tote bag bearing the logo of a kitschy tourist trap in his hand. He beamed as he noticed her, walking up and giving her a good morning kiss.

Vivi laughed, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him away lightly. “Lew, I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet! No morning breath kisses, we all agreed those were the worst.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Arthur start, but Lewis just laughed, walking over to the table and setting the bag down on it. He started to unpack, first his own rainbow pill caddy, then Vivi’s cylindrical one, and finally Arthur’s loose assortment of orange bottles. “Fine, fine. Meds, everybody, come and get it.”

Once they had all taken their various medications, and Arthur had been chided into using his coffee to take his meds instead of taking them dry, Vivi took a deep breath. “Okay. Boys, I think we need to have a serious conversation now.” Arthur stiffened, and his eyes darted towards the windows. Vivi immediately strode forward, sitting down on the couch next to him. “I will sit on you if I have to, Artie,” she warned him, only half joking.

Arthur sighed and slumped against the couch, covering his face with his hands. His ears were cherry-red, and Vivi couldn’t help but find it cute.

Despite the cuteness, she shared a worried glance with Lewis as he settled down on the bed across from the couch. Lewis shook his head, a worried frown pulling at his face. She took another deep, grounding breath, setting her shoulders and sitting up straight before she looked at Arthur. “Okay. Arthur. What was that last night? You — you said we were just friends,” and those words still stung like a winter wind, “But then you say you’re not breaking up with us?”

It came out a touch more accusatory than she wanted it to, and Lewis took over with a gentle, “We’re not mad, Arthur. Not disappointed, either, but — if you don’t want us to even say we’re dating when we’re in public, I wish you’d told us earlier. It’s okay if you don’t! It really is, I get it, but…”

Arthur went impossibly redder, and curled in on himself, drawing his knees up towards his chest. “I dndwrdn…” he whined, muffled by his hands.

“I didn’t catch that, sorry,” Vivi said, wrapping her hands lightly around his wrists and tugging gently, trying to get him to lower them. 

Arthur took a deep breath, dropped his hands, and half yelled, “I didn’t know we were dating!!!” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, his hands shot back up so fast he practically slapped himself in the face.

Vivi sat back, stunned. He...didn’t know? How could he possibly not know?!

“I — I, I, you — you never asked!” Arthur yelped.

Oh, she had said that out loud. “What do you — Arthur, we asked you out two months ago!”

Lewis raised his hands in a T, using the same tone he used on his sisters when they were getting too rowdy. “Okay, you two, time out!”

They both fell silent, turning to face Lewis.

Lewis tilted his head, looking at their boyfriend. Who...apparently didn’t know that he was their boyfriend. “Arthur...do you really not remember? We asked you out when we were back home, almost two months ago.”

“Okay, yes, it was a month, four weeks, and five days, not two months, but I don’t think semantic arguments are gonna be a big help here, babe,” Vivi grumbled.

Arthur shook his head wordlessly, still hiding his cherry-red face.

A month, four weeks, five days, and a handful of hours ago…

“It honestly feels so weird not living out of the van, doesn’t it?” Vivi mused, taking a bite of pizza.

“It really does. I’d completely forgotten what it was like to be woken up in the morning by forty pounds of overenthusiastic child launched directly at my sternum,” Lewis laughed, rubbing at his chest.

“Lew, we’ve only been road tripping for three months. That’s a bit quick, big guy,” Arthur snickered, pausing to shove half a slice of his weird oyster pizza in his mouth.

“It was so nice, though! The most I had to deal with while living with y’all is your pointy elbows!” Lewis leaned over and mussed Arthur’s hair. A laugh bubbled out of Arthur as he batted at Lewis’s hand futilely, trying to save his cone of hair gel. Laughing, Lewis subsided, pulling back. “But, yeah, I woke up this morning with a Cayenne-shaped bruise right on my sternum.”

Vivi winced sympathetically, shaking her head. “Ouch. Did she mean to?”

“Nah. Just excited.” Lewis’s smile turned fond. “They missed me. Demanded souvenirs and made me sit down and be their personal giant teddy bear as they watched Moana for the eighth time. Then Paprika gave me about twenty bead bracelets. When y’all come to the Paradiso, she’s got your piles waiting.”

“She’s still doing bead bracelets?” Vivi asked, a note of excitement in her voice. The last time they had all gotten bead bracelets from Paprika, it was right after the Peppers had explained what transgender meant, and the three of them had all gotten a bead bracelet with the word transgender wildly misspelled, the pink, white, and blue of the flag slapped randomly on there. It was the best piece of jewelry she owned — hers said “trasgenner”, Arthur’s said “trainsgandr”, and Lewis’s said “trasgeneer”. Paprika had been very determined to do it on her own, and had just gone with her best guess on each one.

“Yep! She’s got one for both of you that has your favorite animal as a charm,” Lewis revealed, grinning.

“Perfect!” Vivi did a very restrained fist pump.

Arthur hummed, staring at the pizza boxes on the table. It was almost a full twenty seconds before he grabbed another slice. “That actually sounds really nice. Both the, the bracelets and the personal teddy bear Moana thing.”

“Honestly, it wasn’t bad at all.”

Silence descended on their table, comfortable and companionable. Vivi shut her pizza box, setting her elbows on the table and propping her head on her hands, studying the two in front of her. Butterflies were building in her stomach — they were just both so beautiful, the warm noonday sunlight making both her boys glow in different ways. Arthur looked like he was wreathed in gold, his hair and eyes shining the same color as the sunlight. On the other hand, the warm light brought out the full richness of Lewis’s skin tone and made his hair gleam like the satin of his ascot, as well as glinting off his sparkly magenta nail polish. She made eye contact with Lewis, jerking her chin towards Arthur and wiggling her eyebrows.

Lewis blushed, glancing at Arthur nervously. Arthur, completely oblivious, simply leaned back in his chair, eyes drifting closed. He didn’t look tired, or, at least, not drop dead exhausted, just relaxed, happy, and full, so Vivi took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders.

“So, Artie...there’s something we’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Arthur opened his eyes, meeting her gaze curiously. There was no undercurrent of nervousness in his eyes, and Vivi was warmed to the core by his trust in them — she had asked an extremely open-ended question. “Huh? What’s up?”

Lewis cleared his throat. “We want to ask you if...Arthur, would you like to go out with us?”

“I thought that’s what we’re already doing right now…?” Arthur looked adorably confused, brow furrowed as he looked between them. 

Vivi shook her head. “No, like, as a date. Will you go on a date with us, and-or be our boyfriend?”

Arthur sat very still for a long moment (she wasn’t even sure he was breathing) before a grin unfolded across his face, as resplendent as the sun itself. “Yeah. I’d — I’d really love that. I — yeah. Yeah, I’ll go out with you and be your boyfriend.”

“Oh, perfect!” Vivi squealed, barely restraining herself from launching across the table and kissing him until he was more lipstick-mark than man. “When works best for you? Should we go somewhere in town, or wait til we’re on the road again? There’s this sushi place in Tremolo that I’ve just been dying to try, we should go there, if we’re waiting til we’re on the road again. Or just in general, it seems really good and I haven’t had good sushi in ages.”

Arthur tilted his head, clearly considering her words. His smile took on a wistful edge. “...y’know...I don’t really need all the fancy date stuff. Just...I’m happy to do what we’ve been doing, just...together. Having you guys be — being with you guys, romantically — that...that would be enough for me,” he said softly.

Lewis grinned over at him, soft and sappy, and opened his mouth. Before he could say anything, his phone rang in his pocket, and he pulled it out, grimacing a little as he checked the caller ID. “It’s Papá. Hold on, I gotta take this.” He stood up, stepping a bit away. Not a minute later, he stepped back, regretful smile firmly in place. “...sorry, guys. I’m needed back at the Paradiso for free childcare,” he joked.

“Aww…” Vivi was really only half disappointed. They had pretty much finished up lunch, only a few slices left between the three of them (none of them hers), and she had a shift at the Tome Tomb coming up soon, anyway. And, more importantly, they had asked Arthur out and he said yes! Their couple was now officially a polycule!

Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. “I can — give you a ride. I gotta get back to Uncle Lance’s place anyway, I’m...” he trailed off, and Vivi waited maybe ten seconds for him to finish his sentence before accepting that he had lost his train of thought.

“Well, then...the Tome Tomb ain’t far, I can walk. I guess this is the end of our first date,” Vivi sighed. She stood up, standing on her tiptoes and pulling Lewis down for a chaste kiss before walking over and pressing a kiss to Arthur’s stubble-roughened cheek — familiar territory that should have been safe enough, she did that in the post-case exhilaration at least half the time. 

Arthur blushed bright red anyway, and she left with a bright laugh, walking on clouds with the universe held in her hands.

A month, four weeks, five days, and a handful of hours after that…

Arthur groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Really?! I — guys, I had been awake for, like, two solid days at that point!”

“So you — you don’t remember us asking you out at all?” Lewis asked, shocked. 

“No! Or — well — ki-kinda? I — kinda thought I was dreaming…” Arthur trailed off into muttering, fidgeting with his bracelets and not making eye contact.

Vivi paused for a moment, eyebrows creeping up. “Wow. Way to inflate our egos, there, Artie,” she joked. 

“Wh— how am I inflating your ego?!” Arthur jerked his head up to look at her.

“We asked you out and you literally thought you were dreaming. We’re literally your dream partners!” She cackled.

Instead of laughing, Arthur rubbed the back of his neck, looking down, his words spilling out in a jumble. “Um. Y-yeah, actually...I — didn’t think it was — I, I mean, I’d, um I’d had dreams...like that...before. And...uh. Since then if I’m being honest.”

Vivi felt a blush rising in her cheeks, and she covered her mouth. 

“That’s...that’s incredibly sweet, Artie…” Lewis managed, blushing harder than she was. 

Vivi cleared her throat. “Sap,” she managed, shaking her head fondly.

Arthur took a deep, shaky breath. “So, um. Can...can we start over? On dating? I do — I really, really do want to date you guys, for real, I just...didn’t...know?”

“Of course!” Vivi and Lewis exclaimed in accidental unison.

“And this time you’ve definitely slept enough to be lucid,” Lewis added on lightheartedly. “You were snoring before I fell asleep.”

“Well…” Arthur smiled, lopsided. “I’m pretty sure I am, anyway. Lucid, that is — and how could you hear me snoring over Vivi’s, anyway? But, uh —”

“— Hey!” Vivi interrupted. “I don’t snore that loud!”

“You sound like a train, Vivs,” Arthur teased, before clearing his throat. “But, uh. Anyway. Wanna...wanna pinch me so I’m sure I’m not dreaming this time?”

Vivi smirked at him. “I’ll do you one better, actually.” 

Before he could respond, Vivi leaned over, pressing a kiss to his lips. It took him a moment to react, startled, but he hesitantly started to kiss back after a second or two. There weren’t any fireworks, at least for her; if anything, it felt like being electrocuted, but in a good way, sparks shooting through her whole body, curling her toes and making her fingertips tingle. Arthur’s hand came up to grip at her sweater. Vivi kept the kiss chaste, and pulled back after a moment, glancing at Lewis.

Lewis pouted at her, a smile tugging at his lips and his voice. “Aww, I wanted to kiss him first, you got to do it at the restaurant.”

Arthur licked his lips, breath coming out a little funny, and swallowed hard before he got up and stepped towards Lewis, grinning crookedly. “W-well...consolation prize?”

Lewis let out a bark of laughter, startling Arthur into jumping a little, and pulled Arthur close with a gentle hand. “I can live with that,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss him. 

Vivi settled back, watching her boys kiss from the lumpy motel couch. It felt like coming home, like kicking off her shoes and shedding her stress as easily as taking off her scarf. She ran her tongue over her teeth absentmindedly, and grimaced. “Whoops. Sorry, Artie, didn’t mean for our first kiss to be a morning breath kiss.”

Arthur broke away from the kiss he was sharing with Lewis to blink at her, swaying a little bit. “...huh?” he managed, brain visibly rebooting. “Oh! Uh. It’s okay, I don’t think I...noticed?”

“Still, it’s the principle of the matter,” Vivi wrinkled her nose, standing up. “I’ll be right back, you two keep doing what you’re doing.” She tossed in a wink for good measure, and made her way to the bathroom with the accompaniment of Arthur’s flustered squeak and Lewis’s deep, rich laughter.

[mythicalcanary-literature]

FanFiction - Crossing the Stars

Hetalia (c) Hidekaz Himaruya

FTL: Faster Than Light (c) Subset Games

[CHAPTER LIST]

Author’s Note: This FanFiction is a crossover between the sci-fi strategy game ‘FTL: Faster Than Light’ by Subset Games and the manga/anime called ‘Hetalia’ by Hidekaz Himaruya. The story will follow closely to the events of the rougue-like gameplay in FTL and the human characters will be replaced with the human versions of the national personifications in ‘Hetalia’. This is a fun personal project and it requires no knowledge of either fandom to enjoy this story. I’d encourage checking the original sources out though! Use of screenshots in this FanFiction are to supplement the storytelling to help plot the course of our heroes’ journey in the universe. Whatever the outcome of the gameplay I base this story on (as each playthrough is very unique) will be translated into the plot of this story. i.e. If the spaceship gets damaged, it gets damaged in the story. If a character dies in the game, they’re dead in this fiction. (Please note that I find this kind of storytelling entertaining to play/write and I plan to do more in the future if time allows!)

Chapter 1

The Federation was struggling with the advancing Rebel fleet. One lone ship carried some vital information that could turn the tides of the war and the Federation allied Star Ship APH was going to be their champion.

At the helm was Captain Alfred Jones, a spry young American whom fit the Golden Boy persona to a tee. Sure, he wore square-rimmed glasses but he was still awesome. Don’t let his cute blue-eyed, blond haired, ripped body mislead you! He had the courage to lead his crew to the very end. He was the youngest of his crew and had a Hero Complex but his heart helped him to make some decent moral choices.  His friends might disagree and say that his Hero Complex leads to some very immoral choices, but how could he be wrong? He’s great!

Stationed at weapons was his best friend from the academy called Arthur Kirkland. He was an officer from England and was keen to aid in an international project. Arthur was rather lean in build with messy blond hair that matched his sassy personality. His piercing emerald eyes held a wisdom beyond his years. He was tasked with weaponry because of his strategic skills and fearless judgement. Unfortunately his friends and colleagues often made fun of him for his bushy eyebrows, apparent inability to cook, and his obsession with the occult.

Last but not least was the Frenchman Francis Bonnefoy, a flamboyant friend of Arthur’s and on-and-off enemy of his. Much like Alfred, don’t let his looks fool you! Francis’ long, golden hair, sea blue eyes and wispy blond beard could charm many but he was a calculated thinker. He graduated with flying colours in engineering, which is why he was manning the FTL (Faster Than Light) Drive in the engine room.

The blond trio were in their twenties, young and wise together. If they could avoid their normal bickering maybe they would survive this after all!

“This is the awesome Captain Jones speakin’! Get your butts over to the Bridge, we need to figure out where we’re goin’,” the voice on the PA system called in a chirpy American accent.

“We’re already here, dipshit,” Arthur countered as he and Francis joined him on deck. “We’ve best be quick about this, the Rebel fleet is gaining speed.” He pulled up the Beacon Map on screen and surveyed their options. “Unfortunately we have no data on the properties of each beacon towards the exit into the next sector, but hopefully we can acquire that as we go along. The faster we get to the exit the better, our mission is too important to mess around.”

Alfred was sipping some coffee. “Psh, who’s messin’? I won’t lead you dudes astray! Hero’s promise!”

Francis sighed. “Let’s avoid battles if we can, ze stress gives me wrinkles.”

“We’re in a civilian sector! How bad could it be?”

Arthur glared at him. “You’ve best be joking. This area will be littered with Rebel scouts. We need to get a move on.”

Alfred dumped his coffee cup in the rubbish bin and winked. “Fine. Back to your stations! Off to our first stop! Warp us there, Francis!”

“Aye, sir,” Francis responded as they all returned to their posts.

The S.S. APH warped to the next beacon. If they were expecting a calming tour of space they were greatly mistaken. Alfred’s voice carried over the announcement system. “Hey, y’all! We have a hostile Rebel Scout attacking a small refuelling outpost here. That’s totes uncool so we’re gonna kick their asses! Kirkland, fire up the weapons! Try out our Burst Laser II on their weapons!”

“Aye, Captain! Locked on and charging.”

The small ship was quick with a laser drone circling the S.S. APH. An alert blared. “Shields took a hit!” Alfred informed them quickly. “Just an ion blast, it’ll be back online soon, stay at your posts!”

Francis’ voice joined him on the announcement channel. “The drone knocked out our door controls!”

“That’s alright, I destroyed their weapons room,” Arthur chipped in confidently.

“Good work, Artie!” Alfred cheered. “Lock on the drones now.”

“Roger that!”

The ship shook and Alfred’s voice called out in concern. “Yo, Francis? Are you okay? The shields are back online but it says the engines got hit.”

“I’m fine, mon ami! Minor damage to ze FTL Drive, I’m working on a fix. I’m not hurt.”

Arthur switched focus from the enemy drones to the helm. He cursed as he saw that the interior scan of the enemy vessel had repaired their weapons in the time his lasers charged. Luckily, his final few attacks took out the scout and they could safely proceed. He sighed with relief. “Danger has passed, let’s pull in the loot.”

Alfred congratulated them over the announcement system. “Well done, dudes! Artie, join me in the door room. We’re not moving on until that system is running again.”

“On my way!”

Francis kept an eye on the FTL charge as his friends repaired the door functions.

Arthur hummed as he replaced some fried wires and Alfred ran the diagnostics. Oddly enough, they didn’t chat the entire time. It was nice working together. “Alright, let’s get back to our posts. Who knows how many of these automated ships are lurking?”

“Just don’t lead us into a black hole or something.”

“Hahahaha! Noted.”

Back on the Bridge, Alfred pulled up his upgrades panel. They had enough scrap to give them a new edge. He grinned as he added an extra unit of power to their reactor and instructed the Frenchman to monitor the upgrade. He also treated himself to a more slick piloting upgrade. Having auto pilot help him to dodge attacks with a fifty percent advantage was too amazing to pass up! “I’m gonna jump to the next beacon. Hold on to your asses!”

The crew warped into the aftermath of a battle. The battlefield was littered with debris from Federation ships and Rebels alike. Their allies had been sadly outnumbered but it was clear they fought valiantly and Captain Jones respected that. He began performing a more detailed scan of the wreckage when his sensors picked up an enemy ship. He gasped and switched on the comms. “To battle stations! We have a Rebel Disrupter in our vicinity!”

The orange spaceship faced the S.S. APH head-on and momentarily knocked out the shields, just in time for the orbiting drone to shoot their door systems.

“Why do they always target our doors?” Francis complained over the communications system. “It’s hardly a vital system.”

“I think it was potluck,” Arthur answered as his return fire knocked out the enemy weapons. “Got the weapons room! I’m going to knock out that drone and then alternate. I wouldn’t put it past them to begin repairs.”

“As you are, Kirkland!” Alfred chimed in as he kept an eye on the enemy movements from the helm. They made quick work of this battle and reaped the rewards. “Good job. You know the drill, Artie. Gotta get those door systems online again. Meet me there.”

“Aye, sir!”

The next beacon jump was nothing special. Beautiful, but nothing interesting. Francis stared out of his nearby airlock windows to view the dancing binary star before they warped to the next point.

“I’m gonna do a triangular-shaped loop here, dudes. I detect a merchant nearby and I wanna see what they have,” Captain Jones announced to his crew.

“Don’t let us get caught by the Rebels, Alfred!” Arthur’s voice warned him.

“They’re not close enough yet. We’ll be fine. We can’t risk running low on supplies and if we can get this hull fixed that would be great.”

“Good point. Carry on.”

The next jump led them to a destroyed space station. Alfred had reservations about this as life signs could be detected onboard. He bit his lip and weighed up the options of investigating. On the one hand, if he could recruit a new member that would be useful! Although he was well aware that doing these kind of investigations could risk damage to his current crew’s lives. After a moment of hesitation he decided not to risk his friends. They collected miscellaneous debris to repurpose for their own mission and jumped them to the next beacon.

The crew assembled on the Bridge to witness the hails of a Rock Scout. The Rockmen were a powerful race but these aliens seemed to be relatively friendly. “Hey, this is Captain Alfred F. Jones of the Federation Star Ship APH. How can we be of service today, my dudes?”

Arthur stared at his friend unhappily. “You could use proper English, idiot. Did you learn nothing from etiquette lessons when dealing with foreign entities?”

“There was nothin’ wrong with my lingo, Artie! Don’t make me pull rank.”

“Insufferable git.”

The Rockman Captain simply stared at these weird humans before gaining their attention. “We could really use some help.”

Alfred saluted. “How can we help?”

“Our FTL navigation system is shot. Can you help us to a nearby station for them to patch us up?”

“Sure thing, rock friend! I’m receiving your fuel down payment right now and I’ll key in the co-ordinates you sent.”

“Thank you. We will be one step behind you, following your jump signatures.”

Francis beamed at his Captain as their communications shut off with their neutral acquaintance. “That was very kind of you, Alfred!”

The American beamed. “If we can help anyone in distress on the way we damn well will! We’re still gonna do our planned route unless we’re forced to change direction, but those Rebel scumbags ain’t gonna take all of us down.”

Francis patted him on the back and returned to his post. Arthur shook his head. “I wish you’d let me deal with the foreign comms once in a while, Alfred, but you did well. I’m heading back to weapons. Try to get our hull fixed at the shop.”

The next jump led them to an outpost that certainly had merchants selling some wares! Arthur and Francis volunteered to be the away party as Alfred kept an eye on the advancing enemy fleet from the Bridge. Their tailing Rockmen friends also spent a bit of time gathering resources for the journey ahead.

Aware of the encroaching danger and their limited supply of scrap to trade for goods, the European representatives agreed that they should spend all of it on an Advanced FTL Navigation Augmentation that would allow them to leap to any previously visited beacon in one hop no matter the distance and the rest of the scrap was allocated to hull repairs. They promptly beamed back on deck and installed their new augment and checked with the Rockmen to make sure that they were ready to follow.

The S.S. APH jumped back the way they came and immediately leapt to the subsequent beacon. It was a tough decision because they had to completely ignore a distress call. The Rebel fleet was advancing far too quickly, they had to put as much distance between them as possible. Alfred felt terrible but his crew and the Rockmen following them depended on forward thinking. There was no helping those in distress right now.

“Rebel transport ship detected!” Captain Jones announced on the communications system. “It doesn’t seem to wanna fight but we can’t take risks. Plus we need the scrap, we’re kinda poor right now.”

“Engaging weapons, Captain!” Arthur replied, powering up the Burst Laser II to lock onto their weapons room. He was going to target the drones next as those little bastards were a pain to deal with.

“CANCEL THAT INTERACTION, KIRKLAND! ATTACK THEIR ENGINES, THEY’RE GONNA JUMP AND WARN THE FLEET!”

“Fuck, really?! Alright, locking both the lasers and missiles onto their FTL Drive!”

It was a tense moment as their weapons warmed up and as they celebrated decimating the enemy FTL Drive, a missile hit their own engines.

“ENGINES, DAMAGE REPORT!” Captain Jones cried.

“Ze bastards damaged ze FTL Drive. I’m working on a fix but my head…”

“Focus, Bonnefoy. You can heal after we destroy these idiots!” Arthur chipped in urgently. He switched the lasers to focus on the Rebel weapons room whilst keeping their Artemis missile locked on the enemy engines.

An explosion rocked the Bridge and Alfred coughed through the smoke. “Dammit, they’re breaking my controls. Kirkland, finish this now.” He gritted his teeth as he repaired the system damage. His wrist was pretty sore but nothing too dire.

“Aye, Captain!”

Fortunately, the battle was over with soon after and repairs could be finished to both the engines and the piloting systems. Jones and Bonnefoy met up in the medbay to heal their injuries before moving on. It was becoming clear how dangerous this mission was.

Back on the Bridge, Alfred instructed his crew that to get to the quest marker they needed to enter a nebula. Nebula zones were always risky as they knocked out sensors but they could also be beneficial in slowing down the enemy fleet. “We’re heading to the nebula. Be prepared for anything! Warp ahead, Bonnefoy!”

This felt like a mistake. Nebulas can be rather peaceful but today was not their day! A plasma storm was active so not only were their sensors dead but their reactor was crippled to half-capacity. The crew was in a mild panic trying to figure out what systems were down as a Rebel automated scout swooped in to cause them hell.

“GUYS, WE HAVE A PROBLEM. SEVERAL PROBLEMS,” Alfred yelled through the communications system.

“No shit!” Arthur shot back as he examined the diagnostics from his post. “Our oxygen isn’t powered, we’ll suffocate!”

“Heat up the weapons, Artie, we have company! I’ll divert power from the medbay to the oxygen room!”

“SHIELDS ARE DOWN AND THEY HAVE A DRONE!” Francis cried from the engine room. “We’re sitting ducks!”

“Divert ALL power from engines to the shields NOW!”

“Aye!”

“I’m locked on their weapons, Captain!” Arthur informed them. “The shield is holding off the drone, thank God.”

“Fire on that and then the drone. Destroy it as quickly as possible.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

Thankfully the battle was over swiftly. Shaken and worried, Alfred gave the order to drop the shields and restore power to the FTL Drive. They would drop off their Rockmen friends at the next beacon and make their way to the exit.

“Approaching the quest marker,” Captain Jones announced keeping the ship steady, ready for a break. “I’ll inform our little convoy back there.”

“Can one ship in addition to ours really be considered a convoy?” Francis responded contemplatively.

He didn’t receive an answer as the Rockmen’s ship zoomed away without warning and Alfred flipped the Red Alert siren. “AGH! IT’S A TRAP! How could they? We trusted them!” He turned on the power to all systems after they were clear of the plasma storm and glared at the Rebel Disrupter ship. How dare they! HOW. DARE. THEY.

Ignoring the possible melodrama his best friend was stewing in, Arthur had already locked their weapons on the Rebel weapons and drones with their Burst Laser II and the Artemis missile. DIRECT HIT! That’s getting business taken care of. He disabled the Artemis and focused the laser onto enemy shields. He needed no consultation on this strategy, they would not be made fools of! With the shields down and the enemies focused on repairing the damage he dealt to the drones, he fired once again at the weapons room. The Rebel scum would not get a say in this!

VICTORY! The crew celebrated briefly as they collected the remains of their enemy vessel.

“Let’s get the hell outta here,” Alfred urged, turning them towards the next beacon. “I don’t want to try my luck with another one of these guys.”

“We can make it to ze Exit Beacon in two jumps, Captain!” Francis informed him over the comms. “With ze Rebels gaining ground we shouldn’t take anymore detours.”

“Agreed, buddy! Full speed ahead!”

The Rebels were determined to control this star system! The subsequent beacon greeted them with another Rebel Rigger patrol. It stood between them and the exit. This could not be tolerated.

“I’m way ahead of you, Captain!” Arthur called over the communications. “I’ve locked on their weapons and drone rooms. I’ll target their FTL Drive afterwards, we can’t let them get away to inform the Rebel fleet of our location.”

“Show no mercy, Kirkland!”

“Aye, sir!”

Direct hits!

“The enemy is powering up it’s FTL Drive!” Alfred informed them urgently. “This could be bad!”

The landed hits on the enemy vessel weren’t enough to destroy the hull and the Rebels were an inch from jumping out of reach. Fortune dealt them an unexpected hand, though.

Alfred opened up the screen to receive a hail from the Rebel Rigger Captain. “Captain Jones speaking. Stop right there!”

The enemy Captain scowled but offered a metaphorical white flag. “The day is yours! Show us your honour by allowing us to leave with our lives.”

This was a very fragile situation. The enemy hull was weak but their FTL Drive was primed to jump any second. There would be no time to stop them unless they agreed to a truce. Alfred growled in frustration but knew there was no choice. “Kirkland, cease fire! We’re entering a truce.”

“What? Um, okay?” came Arthur’s puzzled response. There was probably a good reason to cease fire so he complied. He would demand answers later.

Captain Jones accepted the supplies from the Rebel Rigger and the enemy did not warp away. Phew, that was a close one. The advancing enemy fleet would not gain speed on them.

Tense, Alfred called a meeting on the Bridge. He turned to his crewmates gravely. “We’re getting real lucky with these battles, our damage has been minimal. With Rebels so close to our Exit Beacon we need to be ready for a possible interception between us and the warp point. Don’t let your guard down and we’ll decide which sector to head to next once the coast is clear.”

Arthur nodded and returned to the weapons room without any answers, but he didn’t need them. It was clear they were in trouble and Alfred made a solid judgement call. He would be ready to defend.

Francis remained by Alfred’s side as they made the final jump to the Exit Beacon.

There was an asteroid field not far from their destination. They decided to risk navigating it for some materials that would help them in the next sector. Luck truly was not on their side as asteroids violently knocked down their shields and damaged their hull!

“Fire in ze portside airlocks, Captain!” Francis cried.

“I’ll open the airlocks to extinguish it. Everyone meet me in shields! We’ll repair and move on!”

Once that crisis was averted, the crew met up to decide where to go next.

Would they jump to the Engi Controlled area, or the Zoltan Controlled area? Both were civilian sectors but carried their own unique risks.

TO BE CONTINUED IN THE NEXT SECTOR...

Chapter 1 - END

[CHAPTER LIST]

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[Cover Art] This image was drawn in HB pencil and painted in watercolour paints on the 8th August 2021. It was digitally enhanced in GIMP Image Editor on the 9th August 2021. Paper type = 130 gsm 

This chapter was written on the 8th August 2021.

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Please do not repost, modify, resell or claim this work as your own.

(Reblogging is fine, though!)

[Mythical Canary Info]

[fleckcmscott]

To Have and To Hold

Summary: Y/N makes an oversight at work. The resulting extra hours with Arthur delight them both.

Warnings: Swearing, Smut

Words: 4,272

A/N: This story had been kicking around in my head for about two months, but I hadn’t been sure if I was going to write it. Then I read @sweet-nothings04‘s amazing Hand-in-Hand (which you all need to check out, if you haven’t), and knew I had to put it on paper. Thanks to her for the inspiration to finally develop this, and for the title, too!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open! 

Perhaps it was the sunshine that stirred her. Or the horns of traffic on congested streets. The hammering of a distant construction site. The chatter and occasional yelling of passersby.  The hum of Gotham awakening.

Y/N blinked in confusion - how could it be so bright this early? - and squinted at the clock at Arthur's side of the bed. No numbers greeted her, just its blank, plastic display. Stretching, she reached to her left for her watch, in its spot by the beige rotary phone on the nightstand.

"Shit!"

Nearly knocking over her glass of water, she clambered off the mattress. Arthur had warned her the lights could go off in his apartment. Not often and not for long. But enough to annoy. Naturally, his building's shoddy electricity had to mess with the alarm today. When she'd stayed up too late. When he'd had to leave ahead of her to commute to the other end of the city for a rare winter gig. When her body had chosen to oversleep in the coziness of his blankets.

Her nylons had never been yanked on with such haste. Arthur had made coffee but she skipped it in favor of brushing her teeth. Pausing on her way out, she took a calcium supplement and grabbed a note from the counter. She read it while riding the wood-paneled, graffiti covered elevator: "Your presentashin will be great. You snored a lot. Good thing your cute. - Arthur." He always signed his name. As though she wouldn't recognize his scrawl. As if anyone else wrote her sweet, sassy missives. She grinned until she hopped on the for-once punctual subway.

The presentation he'd referred to was set for that afternoon. She was expected to discuss the evidence and court file for this week's contested hearing. Last night, she'd sat at Arthur's breakfast bar to compile the case's final details and finish prep sheets. Gently, she'd rebuffed his subtle advances. His attempts to draw her attention from work to him.

Excitement had been palpable as he'd hovered near her. She was fairly certain she knew the cause because it enthused her as well. In three and a half short weeks, he'd be moving in with her. They'd officially begin traversing whatever the future held for them together. Hesitation had been clear in his posture, his drawn shoulders when (after plenty of convincing on her part that yes, she really, really, wanted him) he'd finally accepted the key to her place. But since he'd added it to his own keyring, he'd brightened. Strode a little taller. Walked a little prouder. Touched a little bolder. As though the weight he carried had lessened, at least by a couple cinder blocks' worth.

At his slight pout, she'd decided to find a way to involve him. He'd perched on the stool next to her, rested his cigarette in the pink ashtray to the left, and taken the proffered exhibit stickers with a quirked brow. Y/N had handed him papers, which he'd added labels to for her to write on. Then she'd stacked them in four different piles according to type. It had taken longer than usual - she was faster alone. But the intimacy of sharing the professional elements of her life with Arthur (besides the office wear he liked, claiming it showed how "smart" and "pretty" she was) had tightened her chest. And the curved-up corner of his thin lips had reflected how pleased he was, too.

They hadn't been able to collaborate on everything, however. It was past midnight by the time she'd joined Arthur, who had retreated to the bedroom an hour or so earlier. He'd been sitting against the headboard, half under the cover. The harsh blue light emanating from the old black and white TV at the foot of the bed had sharpened his features. Deepened the set of his eyes. He'd stubbed out his smoke as she closed the door. "I taped The Honeymoon Game. We can watch it when you're here again." A beat. "If you're not busy."

"This is supposed to be my last big project for a month or so." Sighing, she'd gotten her nightgown from her overnight bag. "I didn't mean for it to take all evening." She climbed in next to him and threw her arm across his lap. "I'm sorry."

He'd been stiff. Unyielding. The telltale signs he was miffed or upset. But he'd twined her hair around his finger, let his touch fall to her brow bone. "It's okay," he'd said lowly, adjusting to lie alongside her. "I don't want to be... I'm not being fair."

"You don't have to pretend with me, Arthur. It's all right to be annoyed." Tiredness had pulled at her as she'd fought to watch the rest of Gotham Tomorrow Tonight. The contact of his socked toes to her bare ones had made her smile, though, and she'd nuzzled his bicep. "I missed you," she'd mumbled, then promptly passed out.

The squeal of wheels on metal tracks prompted her to sling her canvas tote onto her shoulder. Shaw & Associates was a short sprint from the nearest station. She was certain she looked ridiculous, running down the street in her high heels. But she managed to slip into the office with two minutes to spare. Once she poured herself a cup of joe and straightened her blazer, she settled in her cushioned chair to get started.

It was only when Matt told her he wanted to meet before lunch that she'd rummaged in her bag. And realized she'd neglected to bring the file. Recalled it was sitting on Arthur's kitchen counter.

Fuck.

Her nails tapped the wood surface of her desk. Excusing herself to the bathroom so she could go retrieve it wouldn't fly. Matt would send a search party. She could try to discuss everything from memory, tell him documents were still being gathered. But he wasn't that oblivious. She settled on owning her error. "It's at home." Her delivery was nonchalant.

He waited until she'd loaded her typewriter with paper, then responded wryly. "You're not supposed to take files home anymore. Remember what happened last time?"

She leaned back as he stepped in front of her. "There was the slew of family cases that came in. With Patricia on leave, I'm handling all our calls and mail. Not to mention paperwork on her filings. It wouldn't have gotten finished if I hadn't taken it." Snorting, she shook her head at herself. Heat bloomed in her neck. "Not that it matters when I don't have it."

Expression softening, Matt stuck his hands in his pockets and jutted his chin at her. "How long did you work on it?"

It was hard to discern if he actually cared about the hours she put in. Or if he merely wanted to gauge the possibility of her doing investigations off the books again, something he'd explicitly prohibited. "I don't know." She waved dismissively. "Three or four hours?"

He let out a huff. "You put in enough time already. Go home at noon. We'll get to it first thing tomorrow."

"I have a lot to do." Her eyes widened at the myriad piles of folders laying around. "And I can't imagine you playing operator."

"I've managed when you've both been in court or at appointments. Besides," he continued as he headed back to his office. "You never take days off."

Straightening, she wheeled her chair to watch him plop down on his leather seat. "I'm taking three days next month," she countered.

His glare contained an unequal mix of mirth and consternation. "Y/N?"

The phone started ringing. She succeeded in making one ear ignore it. "Yes?"

"I know you haven't forgiven me for that whole Renew Corp. thing." She flinched at the casual mention of the company she loathed. Of her failure. But she forced herself to listen. Matt picked up a pen and started writing. “Rather than being stubborn, try saying, 'You're right.'"

~~~~~

Y/N stood in front of the narrow, white stove, stirring the soup she'd thrown together using bouillon, carrots, onions, and pasta. Ingredients she'd found in Arthur's kitchen. Music poured, at a respectable volume, from the radio on the windowsill. Swaying out-of-time, she added a sprinkling of black pepper, one of the only three spices he had (along with powdered garlic and salt). Wearing a content smirk, she sampled the steaming broth.

When she'd left the office, she'd been frustrated at herself. Yes, she was human. Everyone made mistakes. But she wasn't the forgetful type. Particularly if someone was depending on her. However, as she'd stopped in Burnley for another change of clothes, hopped on the train to Otisburg, and pictured Arthur's reaction to finding her in his home instead of having to call to wish her sweet dreams, her disposition had improved. Not only would he have her for an extra night. He'd get a late lunch, too.

The click of the deadbolt and clank of his keys on the entrance table came the second she turned off the stove. She listened to his heavy exhale as his bag dropped to the floor and shut the door. In her peripheral vision he froze, then approached tentatively. She reveled in his delicate hold on the dip of her waist, the peck he planted on her cheek. The smell of greasepaint wafted to her nose. "I hoped I hadn't made this up," he sighed with what sounded like relief. "But your meeting."

She angled herself towards him, gaze roving over his red and blue plaid blazer. The painted-on smile. His irresistible brown curls, mostly flattened by the wig he'd worn. Fidgeting with the petals of the squirting flower on his lapel, she scrunched up her face. "This morning went to shit." She explained the power outage, the clock, her own stupidity at leaving the file in his apartment. "I've packed it. Don't worry."

His posture grew pensive. "Sorry. Maybe- Maybe we should have stayed at your place. Your building's better."

Him thinking her error was somehow his fault had to be nipped in the bud. "No," she said. "You asked to make more memories here before we move in together. I'm happy to do that."

He paused, long enough she could have sworn she'd heard the gears in his head grinding. "Are you in trouble?"

Not unexpectedly, he had put together her mistake and her early dismissal from work and assumed the worst. "If I wasn't fired for trying to stop the Waynes, it's going to take more than an oversight to get me thrown out on my ass." Her brow furrowed. She sneaked a hand under his jacket and placed her palm on his chest. "I just hate that I wasted last night for nothing."

Soft lips, slightly sticky with red paint, grazed her temple. "It's okay," he said. "You're here now. And I got to help you."

The balm of his kindness loosened her rigid stance. His zeal to assist her, to ask questions, to learn about every aspect of her branded her heart completely. She leaned into him, kissed the squishy fold of skin under his chin, and nudged his ribs. "Food's ready. Go change. I want to hear all about your day."

Arthur emerged from the bathroom within minutes, clad in his worn, blue house pants and toweling his hair. Dimples were on constant display while they ate. The glint in his eyes was the one he usually had if his act or a job had gone particularly well, if he was pleased with himself. Was the one starting to be an almost weekly occurrence. Was the one that made his green eyes sparkle and caused her stomach to flip. He inched closer to her with every sentence.

The kids at the new children’s medical center had liked Carnival, he said. They hadn’t minded that he’d "filled in" for Gary. The magic tricks had all gone without a hitch, and the clinic had provided the balloons, which was a savings. The nurses and doctors had been nice; they’d even asked for his card. He’d had to provide a slip of paper with his address and telephone number instead. But he was sure he’d be invited to perform again. And he asked Y/N for help writing Gary a thank you note for the referral, claiming, “You’re better at that than me.”

“You’re the one who journals every day.” Her bowl and spoon clattered in the sink. “And your letter to me was beautiful. Just let me proofread it.”

Soon they were reclined on the sofa, sharing the flat pillow he’d used when he’d had no choice but to sleep there. The tape he’d recorded yesterday was playing. The Honeymoon Game had been a casual watch before, he’d explained. Not a nightly ritual like Murray. Given that he had a girlfriend and was a boyfriend himself, it had become fun to view.

She was only half-focused on the TV’s talking heads. Her mind was drifting to moving day, which filled her with gladness. She examined the plaid walls, the white cream color ceiling, the knick-knacks strewn about in the glow of the setting sun. The lantern with an owl hanging in the corner; the green, plastic drawers by the television; the curio cabinet... They were all a part of 8J, but assuredly not a part of him. How much would he be bringing with him, she wondered. And what would he be leaving behind?

“With one sugar and a shot of milk.” Arthur’s lively voice broke through her contemplation. Ah. He was reacting to the questions posed to the contestants, and making the answers about her, as he was wont to do.

She nestled back into the pleasant warmth of his firm frame. “Three sugars,” she replied, confirming she knew how he took his coffee. They continued to play along, with him showing off everything he’d memorized about her, and her replying with what she’d gathered about him.

Eventually, he shifted behind her. Raised himself on his elbow. “How did you know you loved me?”

Her hum was soft. Short. Possible responses were multitude. She’d suspected she could fall for him early on. When he’d wanted to repay her for doing what anyone should have done on the subway. And the first time he’d had the courage to call her after they’d split a slice of pie, his slight stammer revealing his nervousness. Maybe she’d say it was how slowly he’d drunken his wine during dinner, initially squinting as he sipped, his inexperience with alcohol obvious.

But she chose to go with what she believed was truest. What she assumed he’d hear most keenly. “Before we slept together, I hadn’t been with anyone for four years. And even then, it was different.” His hand splayed on her abdomen, thumb dragging along the waistband of her green leggings. A delightful ache flared in her center. “When I woke up, I felt perfect.”

“You felt like you were perfect?”

“No, silly,” she laughed, batting his forearm. “I knew I hadn't made a mistake. I reached out to your side, first thing - I’d thought of it that way, even then.” At the sensation of his hardening shaft against her rear, she giggled. “You’d made me so happy. You always do. I wanted to you to bed me again.”

The round tip of his nose skimmed her cheek, and she shivered at the dip of his fingers into her panties. “I want to again,” he rasped, paraphrasing her. The grind of his length was making her light-headed, and she twisted her torso to look at him. “I’ve been thinking about it.” Cheekbones glowing, he averted his eyes. “Ever since I woke up.”

“My monthly started,” she said regretfully. His descent halted, and a groan of frustration left him as he lowered his forehead to her shoulder. She mused. While he was becoming more apt to say what he desired, it happened rarely. But she loved it and didn’t want to discourage him from letting himself be assertive. Would he be offended by her suggestion? “I freshened up before we laid down. I have a tampon in. There are other things we can do.” She pressed her lips together, hoping she didn’t sound presumptuous. “If you’re comforta-“

“I’m comfortable.” His mouth quickly claimed hers, opening on a sigh. The tip of his tongue laved at the seam of her lips, and his messy enthusiasm made her whimper. Leaving a scorching trail in its wake, his hand traversed to her upper leg, gliding over the crease where her thigh and vulva met.

Shallow breaths caressed the nape of her neck, stoking the heat threatening to consume her. But the studio audience blaring from the television’s mono-speaker kept wresting her out of her haze. She snatched the VCR remote from the coffee table and hit the pause button.

The tease of his fingertips at her dark curls caused the peaks of her breasts to stiffen. She gasped as the rough fabric of her sweater dragged along them. His fore- and ring fingers spread her outer lips and she shuddered. The leisureliness of his fondling didn’t detract from its intoxicating effect.

Though it was a tad rough. “You’re kinda dry. Hold on.” Swiftly, he brought his hand to his mouth and wet his fingertips. Y/N blinked at him. It was clear he thought nothing of it, which shouldn’t have been a surprise, considering he’d confided he liked going down on her. Still. Seeing this normally reserved man improvise so he could pleasure her made her center throb with need.

Y/N was doing her damnedest to get her leggings and underwear down. Arthur snorted at her spirited, failed attempt at kicking them away. “It’s okay,” he chuckled, pushing them off her ankles with his foot. Then his touch fluttered at her swollen folds. She arched into him, already feeling as though she would burst. Bent at the knee, her leg lifted until her foot was flat on the couch cushion, allowing him easier access. He took advantage, sweeping forward and back along the rigid line of her engorged clitoral hood. She rolled towards him subtly, her moans getting louder with each tap to her sensitive nub.

Still holding himself up, he cradled her head. "Your sounds make me crazy," he said lowly. Once his hips started following hers, faintly rutting against the flesh of her backside, she closed her eyes. Hurriedly, she reached behind her to yank at his pajamas. "What?" he asked.

"I want to feel you," she whispered. There was a huff and some fumbling. And moments later his cock was settled at the cleft of her bottom. She bit her lip, savoring the weight of him. God, he felt wonderful.

His fingertips whispered over her clit, daring to follow the edge of her inner labia. She heard him gulp. "How does it feel when we're together? When- When I'm in you?"

"Warm. Full. Like you belong there," she replied with a smile. That last part of her response must have been unexpected, given that his grazes ceased and he trembled. "Don't stop," she whined, placing her hand on his. "Please, Arthur. You know just how to touch me."

Groaning, he started anew, deftly swiping quicker and quicker. The undulations of her pelvis hastened unevenly, begging both for release and for their coupling to last forever. She ran her palm up her torso, kneading her breast and plucking at her nipple. He nuzzled at her ear, grunting low in the back of his throat. Winding her fingers into his loose waves, she tugged lightly. Her belly twitched. Her whole frame tingled.

His skillful touch. The love they had for one another. The noises he was making in the crook of her shoulder. They all combined to throw her over the edge, and a wave of pleasure crashed through her. She cried his name brokenly, feeling empty without him inside her. But he kept holding her, guiding her through the crests of her climax. She was gasping, struggling to suck in air. Surely, she thought, he could detect the thundering of her heart against her ribs.

Gradually, the quivering grip she had on his locks eased. The kisses he planted on her neck were open-mouthed, desperate. And he hadn't halted the ardent movements of his hips. Y/N turned onto her other side. Gazing at him, she raked his curls out of his face, caressed his cheekbone with her knuckles. His look was hungry, darkened with need. The creases between his brows deepened as her hand trailed through the sparse dusting of hair on his chest.

There was a youthful charm to this situation, she considered. To them craving each other but not completely joining. It reminded her of being a teenager. When she'd been curious and horny, but nervous and not quite ready to go "all the way" with her ex. Being with Arthur allowed her to do all that again. To relive those experiences, to explore and make discoveries with him. To fall further in love with him daily.

She tenderly pecked the freckles at the top of his sternum, nestled against the notch above his clavicle. "I'm lucky to have you."

He didn't miss a beat, even as she trailed past the ticklish spots on his flank. "I'm luckier."

"I disagree." She outlined the slender muscles of his stomach, the v-lines leading to his cock. Played with the springy, brown curls at the base of him. "Without you, I'd only have my work. Which was enough before. But not now." After a moment, she concluded she was being sappy. She had to change it up. "And I wouldn't be having the best sex of my life."

Clearly flustered, he muffled his laugh. "Really?" His blush was prominent, his grin ecstatic.

"Really." Groans short and sudden, he rocked into her touch when she encircled his ample girth. Her fingers danced along his shaft, marveling at the contrast of his velvety skin with how hard he was. Pumping up and down, she tugged at him, trying to match the speed of his thrusts. He nudged his nose to hers, gazing at her before his hooded eyes flitted to watch what she was doing. Then she looked, too.

The sight of him fucking into her hand made her dizzy with want, even though he'd just gotten her off. The crimson, swollen head glistened, slick beading generously at the tip. Y/N licked her lips and spread it around him with the pad of her thumb. Moaning sharply, he bucked harder. Her motions quickened, flicking repeatedly at the notch on the underside.

Demand was implicit in the grasp he had on her upper arm. And it strengthened as his hips' stuttered, becoming unpredictable. Ragged pants hit her face. "I'm- I'm gonna make a mess.”

"It's all right," she soothed. Keeping ahold of him, she lay on her back. He followed and settled on top of her. Whimpering her name, he rubbed himself against her labia. But she gently pushed him onto his knees and continued palming him, her fingers teasing the ridge on his erection. It wouldn't take long to make him come. She could see it in the clench of his jaw, the tightening cords in his neck, his abrupt, needy cries...

Plunging forward, he held himself in place, grunting, clutching her urgently. His release hit her abdomen, warm and wet, and she gasped, her body curving up towards him. The feel of him spilling onto her couldn't completely distract her, though. Not from the beauty of his parted lips. Not from the relief that gradually spread across his features. Not from the slackening of his muscles as tension ebbed.

Sweat had gathered on his forehead. A droplet ran from the end of a dark brow to his jawline. Then he kissed her, his mouth groping at hers. "I love you," he said. He gave her one last peck and sat up on his knees. Holding onto the arm of the sofa, he retrieved her underwear from the floor and wiped her belly off. "That was fun." He tucked his chin bashfully.

"I concur." She entwined their hands and sat, then stretched as she pushed herself to stand and walk to the bathroom. The washcloth he'd designated as hers hung on the hook by the towels. She cleaned herself, listening as Arthur started the show again.

A new round of questions was just beginning. "When you and your spouse first met," the host started, "what was your first impression?"

Arthur's answer was instant. "Nice."

Y/N said the first thing that came to mind. "Handsome."

She popped her head out of the room to find him leaning on the entrance of the short corridor, beaming at her with hitched giggles. He was probably waiting for his turn to clean up. Like he normally did. But she couldn't stop herself from staring at him. Loving eyes met hers and his brows lifted expectantly. "Yes?"

Smiling, she wrung out the washcloth and put it back in its place. She stepped to him with a smile and smoothed his hair back. The rush of happiness in her soul, one she wasn't even sure she had, enamored her. Not only at what they'd shared on his old, scratchy sofa. But at Arthur being Arthur. At knowing soon she'd get to sleep next to him every night. Build a life with him, one she hadn't dreamed of even six months ago. Nothing she could say seemed adequate. So she went with a kind gesture, one she knew he'd appreciate. "I'll make us some decaf. And I love you, too."

~~~~~

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[rosebloodcat]

Revealed- Arthur p3

Arthur hated the cold. He hated the way it sapped his energy, hated how weak it left him, hated how sluggish it made his mind and body. He hated how easily it could drive him into hibernation against his will.

As a hatchling, as a child, he had been caught out in a snowstorm once. It had taught him just how easy it was for the cold to hurt him.

It had been a winter field trip at his grade school, something about winter safety that all kids should know. His parents hadn't liked the idea of sending him out into the cold (out where he was weakest), but the skills were important to know so they had allowed him to go with his classmates. With all the grown-ups watching them, it should have been okay. It should have been safe. They had been wrong.

The storm had caught them by surprise (the teachers, the coordinators, the officers keeping an eye on them), and had actually been caused by an ice elemental throwing a fit back in town. There had been no warning of it appearing at all.

One minute the skies were clear, the next; dark clouds, strong winds, and blankets of snow were pouring down on them.

He had remembered to do all the things the adult humans had told him to.

Either make or find shelter against the wind and the cold, keep your brightest garment out so people can see it and find you, blow your whistle to make sure someone will hear it over the wind, once you find a spot don't leave it, the whole nine yards. But he had needed one thing that wasn't handed out to children, a thermal blanket.

The storm had been a short one, but it had done enough.

Thankfully, the teacher who found him had known about the cryptid children in the school, and quickly realized that he had been sent into a temperature coma. The teacher was also an elemental, a fire one, and had wrapped him in heating and warmth recovering charms (they later taught him how to add more heat to the magic of his Talisman, to avoid such things in the future). They had known that the cold was dangerous for him, and they worked to help him recover from the damage. Worked to get Arthur to what would have been expected of a human child caught in such a brief storm and had done everything he was supposed to.

The other teachers had all praised him for following their instructions, as had his parents, but he knew it would have been very bad if the elemental teacher hadn't found him first. Knowing danger was an instinct, understanding only strengthened it.

He always did his best to avoid the cold because of that incident, because of how easily it could hurt him. Usually, he could talk Vivi out of cold weather cases, citing the temperature, the weather, or the distance to avoid going (most of those were pretty far away anyways, snow wasn't exactly common where they lived, so he usually had good arguments).

There were times when he lost those arguments, and that would result in him “over packing”.

He would pack electric blankets and space heaters in the van, he'd keep an extra thermal blanket with his own belongings, he would even keep a spare heating talisman hidden in the van (it was more  to raise the base temperature for his main heating spell, than a separate one), not to mention the tote bag full of hand and feet warmers he kept tucked under the back seat.

When his mind stirred, slowing pulling him from unconsciousness, and registered the weak, numb feeling that came from his entire body, he knew exactly what must have happened. He'd fallen into partial-hibernation, one that he was coming out of due to someone quickly raising his temperature again. (Just like that trip all those years ago.) He would feel sluggish and light headed for a while, but it was probably better than whatever state he could have been in.

He didn't open his eyes right away, simply letting the heat around him sink in and ease him into awareness. No need to make himself sick by forcing things.

Sound came first; the sound of hushed voices either arguing or talking to each other, of rustling paper like the pages of a book being turned, and the crackling of a fire. Smell came next; the smell of cooking food, the smell wood smoke, and his friends near by. Then came touch; he could feel the pressure under his tail that said part of it was on a raised surface with a small amount of give, then the feeling of soft, fluffy cloth wrapped around his skin and his scales. And the feel of a steady warmth coming from one side, helping raise his body heat once more.

He couldn't help the soft groan that escaped him when a dull, painful ache made itself known across his chest and back. He hadn't really expected it, had he been hurt before the cold got to him?

“Arty!”

It was all the warning he got before a warm body suddenly latched onto his slowly waking one, putting pressure on his aching chest and sending a small surge of pain through him. He let out a pained grunt, forcing his eyes open to see the offending person.

Blurry blue with a splash of pink filled his vision, and it took a moment for his eyes to clear enough to recognize who it was.

“Vivi?” He slurred, his words drawn and slow. “Wha' happened?”

She started talking, too quickly for him to keep up in his current state, but he'd managed to catch enough to get the gist of things. They's escaped from a monster, he'd gotten hurt by it, L had gone out and gotten him from the storm, he'd gone comatose and they'd brought his temperature back up. Also his talisman was gone.

Wait... What?

Arthur jolted, struggling to sit up despite his exhausted, one armed state. Gritting his teeth against spikes of pain that shot up across chest and back. He'd been laid out on the couch in the cabin's den, and wrapped in so many blankets he could barely move. Still, he could see it in the way the blankets lay across his lower body, he had a tail instead of legs.

Crap, he could only imagine what they had thought upon seeing it.

“Stop that.” A deep voice ordered. For a moment, Arthur's groggy mind thought the voice belonged to his missing friend Lewis, until a large, dark hand rested on his chest and pushed him back down. He looked up into the dark eye sockets of L, the glowing magenta of his irises staring back at the injured Naga laying on the couch. The look the ghost was giving him was firm and unwavering. “You're hurt right now, we don't need you making your injuries worse.”

He blinked slowly up at the ghost, still processing his words.

L actually sounded- worried? He thought the spirit hated him, he must've been in really bad shape to rattle him this badly. The ghost winced.

“I don't hate you, Arthur, I just- never mind. It's not important right now.” He said with a sigh.

Shoot, he'd said that out loud. He must've been more messed up than he thought. Vivi cleared her throat to get their attention.

She looked worried too, jeez, just what had happened to him?

“Arthur, what was that monster? I- I didn't recognize it, but it was pretty obvious that you did.” A monster he knew that she didn't? Well that was new. He scratched through his still-hazy memory, trying to grasp the image of the creature that injured him. It was-

He abruptly shuddered, a spike of fear running through him. Of all the monsters he knew about, why did it have to be that one? Why did it have to be a monster he could never stand against without his talisman? One with such a terrible reputation that he was honestly terrified of it.

He swallowed weakly, he had to tell them. He had to warn them.

“It- It's one of the monsters I remember my Mama warning be about. Tellin' me I should get away from them as fast as I could if I ever heard about one.” His voice was still slow and slightly slurred, but he knew he had their undivided attention. “The Wendigo. They- They're bad. Really bad. Everybody says to stay away from them. 'Cuz they come from really nasty stuff, really bad magics.” He shuddered again.

“They're demons that came from people goin' against their nature, made from people goin' crazy. Humans that got caught in snow storms an' got so desperate to live, to survive, that they started eating their own kind.”

Vivi looked horrified at the concept, of a cryptid that was made from people resorting to cannibalism to survive.

It was a horrible, outlandish idea for humans. Their lives were built on safety and community, on working to help each other overcome obstacles and difficulties. Cannibalism was considered a sick and twisted idea, a horrible concept that went against their very natures. Even L, the ghost of someone who had probably been murdered, looked like he was going to be sick (As much as a ghost could at least).

Arthur could understand why, Nagas weren't the most sympathetic creatures, but even they wouldn't resort to such a thing. The thought of someone willingly and intentionally going after their own kind? The idea horrified him.

He borrowed deeper into the blankets. He was still cold, still sluggish, but he couldn't let himself rest. He had to think back to what his mother had told him. Remember the things she'd said.

Vivi was the only (living) human in their group. She was the only one the Wendigo would target, she was the one at risk. He had to remember what they would need to do to protect her from it. A warm hand rested on his shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Don't force yourself Arthur, we're safe for now. It can't get inside.” L assured him. Arthur must have been thinking out loud again.

“No. There was something, something about the Wendigo bein' able to hurt people without getting close.” He muttered, brow furrowed in thought. His head ached a bit. Did he hit it at some point and not remember? “But I just can't remember how they did it...”

L tensed at that, but tried to give Arthur's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“We won't let that happen. It won't get anyone here.” He was honestly surprised by how sure the ghost sounded. It made him feel a little better, but only a bit.

He was still worried though.

[escapingreality1992]

Secret Pen Pals Ch. 9

Keira’s POV

           I got back in New York late on the 30th; around 11 p.m. I had booked the flight later so I could spend a little more time with my parents. Thankfully, they wanted to have a restful holiday and didn’t pester me about finding a new job or that “special” someone. Instead, they chose to spend the rest of the days relaxed and we watched movies that we had yet to catch up on.

           I took my daily jogs, always bringing Newt along for the journey. After I had received the letter from Steve, I found my mood boosted and never strayed from it, even when it was time to head to the airport. My parents hadn’t questioned who Steve was, I suppose deciding I would tell them in time, when I wanted to share the matter. I planned on telling them; they would be the first to know. I would tell the rest of the family when the right moment came along. Maybe it was a bit selfish, but it was time I did things for myself.

           I’d been letting people walk over me as if I resembled a doormat. Time to stand up for myself; time to speak up if something was bothering me. Hey, a New Year’s Resolution. I’m getting a head start on them. I laughed as I lugged my suitcase and tote bags up the stairs to my apartment. I normally didn’t struggle with it, but the presents I had received weighed the suitcase down. By the time I had reached my door and unlocked it, sweat had begun to form on my forehead. I panted and rolled the suitcase behind me, propping it against the side of the couch.

           I sat down for a few minutes to catch my breath, shrugging out of my jacket to cool off. Taking a final deep breath to calm the fire in my chest, I got up and started to unpack everything in the bedroom. I threw dirty clothes in my hamper by my closet to wash tomorrow, clean ones and new ones I hung in the closet or folded to place in drawers. I know what you’re thinking. Maybe I should have gone to bed, unpacked in the morning.

           I didn’t want to leave things until morning; I had plans for New Year’s Eve and needed extra time to prepare for it. I’d be going out with my friends Jana, Charlotte, and Lena. Believe me, if they so much as insulted me, I planned to tell them how it was. I refused to be hurt any longer. I thought about inviting Natasha out, but I wasn’t sure if she was a night owl like me and didn’t want to text her late at night. Maybe I would send out a text in the morning to see what her plans were.

           With each new item I unpacked, I found a place for it, emptying the suitcase in its entirety. Once cleared out, I shoved it under my bed and set to work on both tote bags full to the brim with new trinkets from my family. Some were placed on my nightstands, others organized on the bookcase or shelves in the living room. I dared not place anything on my desk; the space I designated for Steve because he was dear to my heart.

           I still had the doodle of the dog with the ball of yarn near my computer and the other doodles I framed, two of the four on the desk and the other two I hung on the wall. They helped to inspire me when I wrote or if I needed comfort. I fingered the charm on the bracelet he had gifted me, satisfied with how I had things in my bedroom. Sighing, I changed into pajamas and wiped off my makeup to get in bed. Sliding down, I turned off the lamp on my nightstand and set an alarm to prepare for New Year’s Eve.

  Steve’s POV

           I sat in the living room by a window reading a book when Tony walked in the room.

           “Meeting in ten minutes Cap,” he announced, walking out again. Confused, I marked my place in the book and walked into the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of water. We hadn’t had a major battle in a few days, relaxing to be prepared for the next one. Maybe we were about to be called in for one tonight. By Tony’s tone, I didn’t get that feeling, hence the confusion. As usual, I entered the conference room early and sat down in my usual spot, waiting for the others to file in. Tony had already seated himself at the head of the table, spinning around in his chair like a child, making me question the topic of this meeting.

           Natasha, Bucky, Wanda, Sam and Bruce were next to arrive, followed by Thor, Loki, Rhodey and Clint. Each took their seats, Sam and Bucky on either side of me; Natasha had switched to sit beside Wanda, their hands linked. Silence went on for a few minutes, causing impatience within me.

           “What’s this about Tony? Why did you call us in for a meeting? Is there trouble?” I asked, the impatience growing more intense.

           “Just a minute. We’re waiting for Strange,” he answered. I crossed my arms over my chest to keep from drumming my fingers on the table. I should have grabbed a pencil and some paper, I thought. A nudge in my side had me turning to face Bucky, who smiled.

           “Keira’s coming back tonight, isn’t she? Do you know what time?” he whispered. I shook my head. She hadn’t mentioned what time she’d be back, only that she’d be back today; I now had something to distract me from the growing boredom. After another few minutes went by, Strange arrived and sat down, prompting Tony to begin the meeting.

           “New Year’s Eve. What are we thinking? Party? How about drinks at our usual bar? Quiet night in?” he said. Really? This is what he called us in for? I thought, releasing a deep sigh.

           “Party. Here at the compound. The bar will be crowded as well as anywhere else. We can also avoid people who want to see the Avengers. We can relax here,” Sam chimed in. This comment received nods from everyone else.

           “Great. It’ll be just between those here. It’s much too late to get those who are away here in time. Strange, Wong’s invited too. Feel free to invite dates or friends you think might want to be here. Now let’s discuss themes…” Tony said, going into more details. A vibration in my pocket alerted me to a text from Nat.

           ‘Want me to invite Keira? I have her number. You could finally meet her.’ It read. I looked up at her and shook my head. I typed out a message to send back.

           ‘I want to meet her alone. Talk to her by myself. I’ll introduce her to everyone during a better time.’ As much as I longed to see her, I still wanted it to be in a quiet place. I’d introduce Keira to my friends in time. I had my response to her in mind, but I didn’t want to compose it until another time; I wanted to try and wait until it got closer to the 18th. The meeting winded down, plans coming into place and we headed off to bed. I didn’t expect Keira and I to meet in just a few days’ time.

  Keira’s POV

           My alarm went off and I got up to start tidying up my apartment. I did laundry and vacuumed the floors until they were spotless. I set to taking down the decorations and placing them back in a spare closet where they’d stay until the next year. The laundry had to done in three separate loads, hanging and folding everything as it dried.

           I ran out to the grocery store and the ABC store to pick up meals for the week and supplies for later tonight once I got home from the wine bar with my friends. While out I sent a quick text to Natasha about coming out with us and shortly got a reply back.

           ‘Sorry. I can’t. I’ve made other plans. Want to get together later this week? I’ll introduce you to my fiancée,’ it read.

           ‘Sure. What about Saturday night? I’ll be happy to meet them. The more, the merrier I always say,’

           ‘Sounds good. Wanda is going to love you. See you Saturday. Would 8 be okay with you? We can meet at a bar on 6th. Unless you’d rather have a girls’ night in?’

           ‘8 is fine. I think a girls’ night in would be nice. I’m at the store now. Would you like me to pick up anything while I’m here?’

           ‘No, we can bring our own alcohol and snacks. If there are certain snacks you want, feel free to grab those. Since you’re hosting, that is. We’re not picky,’ I sent back ‘ok’ as my response, grabbing chips and brownie mix, deciding to add chocolate chips and marshmallows to it. I also threw in ingredients to make a feta garlic dip. Returning home, I unloaded the groceries and proceeded to get ready for my night out.

           I showered and wrapped myself in a towel, pulling out the dress I planned on wearing for tonight’s festivities. It was a black flapper-like dress and I paired it with a red leather jacket and black heels to complete the ensemble. In fact, it would go with my friends’ choices, all of us agreeing to be a little flashy tonight. It was about to be the 2020’s after all. It would be fitting to go out with a bang.

           I did my makeup a bit dark and smoky that might be enough to capture anyone’s attention. If only I’d been brave enough to ask for Steve’s number. I could have invited him out with me. He was the only one I wanted the attention from. Grabbing my keys, phone and purse, I exited my apartment taking a cab to the designated meeting place to hang out with my friends.

Thankfully, they were in a cheerful mood and celebrated the night without any insults. We stayed out together for three hours, going our separate ways; I head back to my apartment and celebrated the new year with a glass of champagne, indulging in spicy bloody marys until going to bed. I wouldn’t expect running into Steve at my favorite coffee shop.

  Steve’s POV

           Preparations were made for tonight’s party. We were having a simple feast; flatbreads, cheese plates and a multitude of dips. Wine would be provided ranging from whites and reds, rosés and champagne also included in the mix. If guests chose to have cocktails or beer, an open bar had all the items needed in order to fill their needs.

           I walked in from my usual run to see decorations of black and gold being put up and furniture being arranged to talk to each other. I made to go to my room when Tony asked me for my assistance while I was still in workout clothing. I helped to move couches and chairs, forming a complete circle; it resembled the round table from the legend of King Arthur.

           Funny, I never considered us knights. We were heroes, yes, but modern ones. Well, some of us were, Bucky and I both being from a different time; Thor and Loki from a completely different place. We moved the piano from the library in case those of us that played wanted to show off some skills. As everything came together, I was dismissed to get changed into a white, button up shirt and gray trousers. I combed my hair back in a slick back look, meeting my friends in the lounge. Natasha, who was wearing a gold, strapless dress, approached me, champagne flute in hand.

           “Keira invited me out tonight. I said no because of the party tonight. For a moment, I thought about giving her your number,” she told me.

           “You didn’t have to say no if you wanted to go out with her tonight. That’s way too tempting. I would have dropped everything to go out with her if she asked me. I’m trying to make it to the 18th. It’ll be worth it, though I’m still nervous about her reaction,” I said, grabbing a beer from the bar.

           “You shouldn’t be. I believe she’ll react well, even if she realizes who you are. My question is why you haven’t already gone over to her apartment. I know you’re being patient, but you’re also longing for her. Why not put an end to that longing?”

           “I’ve wanted to, but I don’t think barging in and kissing her is the answer. I think the reward for waiting will be breathtaking. And I still believe meeting in a place that’s quiet is ideal,” I said.

           “I see. You’re still a romantic Rogers. It’s sweet. You should know we’re hanging out Saturday night. Don’t give me that look. I can’t help it. She’s contagious in a good way. I’m getting used to the idea of becoming her friend. I’m bringing Wanda. It might be nice for her to have both of us as a friend,”

           “You’re unbelievable. But I love you for it. The three of you will be a good match as far as friendships go,” She laughed and we continued to talk among our friends, cheering when the new year rang in.

           “Here’s to new beginnings,” Tony said, raising his glass to toast everyone. New beginnings, indeed. My world was about to change, starting tomorrow.

  Keira’s POV            My alarm blared at me encouraging me to pull my body out of bed. I needed to go out for a run, energizing my mind for the day. I didn’t have much to do today and nobody to see. Work wouldn’t resume until the next day and I decided to grab coffee and maybe go see a movie or try something new. I could go ice skating, I thought. I was halfway through my run, only a half hour left, and my thoughts went to a chocolate chip muffin and an iced mocha for breakfast. I was determined to grab it after the jog; my favorite coffee shop wasn’t too far from my apartment.

           Finishing up, I went back to my apartment to grab my wallet, not bothering to change because I’d be going out in the afternoon anyway. New Yorkers didn’t care what you looked like as well. It was an easy way, about a mile and the atmosphere gave me motivation to keep coming back.

           The place was quieter than your average Starbucks and a little cheaper too. The aroma of it hit you as soon as you walked in; a blend of cinnamon and espresso, which created a nice smell in the building. It had shelves of little trinkets you could buy either to gift to somebody or to decorate your home with.

           There was also a small library with books people donated if they needed to. The furniture was vintage leather, dark in color, matched with midnight black tables, gold etching in the surfaces in a brilliant pattern. It was like you were taken back to the past while also being in a modern shop. There was wood paneling, the whorls in the wood making you feel as if you were on a pirate ship.

           I’m not sure most people even knew about it, but there were enough people who did so it would stay in business. I walked in and the barista all waved at me; I became a regular, plus some of them were clients of mine. They knew my order by heart and began making it before I reached the counter to pay for it. I didn’t know that among all the patrons sitting in the shop, the one person I longed to meet was among them. I didn’t know Steve Rogers was here until it happened. As soon as I received my iced mocha, I turned to sit down to wait on the muffin, I collided with someone.

  Steve’s POV

           New Year’s Day descended upon us and I still started the day with an early morning run. The route I took had me passing by a small coffee shop, which looked inviting. Normally, I wouldn’t have gone in it, settling for the coffee brewed at the compound. Today, I decided to do something new. I kept going, running until my workout came to an end; I returned to the compound and changed into a gray t-shirt, blue jeans, and a black jacket. I slipped on brown loafers, grabbed my wallet and a book, heading out to the coffee shop on my motorcycle.

           I needed quiet, a place to put my mind at ease. Read until my heart’s content. I entered, preparing for people to come up to me, to meet Captain America, but not one did. Most of the customers were engaged in reading the newspaper, working on their computers or indulging in a book of their own. I think some of the baristas recognized me, but they didn’t make a big show of it as I approached the counter.

           “What can I get you?” the girl behind one of the registers asked.

           “What do you recommend? It’s my first time in here,” I said.

           “We have a dark roast that’s popular with our customers. Or there’s an iced mocha that has extra chocolate in it. If you’re looking for breakfast items, the muffins are our best sellers. If you don’t want those, then the croissants are the next most people go for. Some of them come with jam in them of varying fruits. It just depends on what you’re in the mood for,”

           “I’ll take the dark roast, medium-sized and a…banana nut muffin,” I said. She rang up my order, asking my name out of policy reasons and I went to sit down at one of the tables. I opened my book and within five minutes my order was ready. While reading, I ate my muffin and sipped on the coffee. I lost track of time and didn’t realize the small amount of liquid sitting in the bottom of my cup had turned cold.

           I was too engaged in my book that I didn’t notice the door to the shop open or the woman who entered it. If I had, I wouldn’t know that the woman who came in was the one I’d been writing to for the past several months. I didn’t notice the baristas wave to her like they knew her from past visits. I took a sip of my coffee, grimaced at the coldness and got up to purchase a new cup.

           I had decided I wanted to stay a little longer instead of returning to the compound and wasting precious time training or being in my room, planning on getting refills for the next couple of hours. I didn’t pay attention to where I was going and didn’t see a woman turn to go sit down. The result of both of our actions caused us to collide…hard. Hard enough to knock her cup into her body and spill the coffee onto her shirt; mine also opened out onto her, both cups and ice hitting the floor.

           I heard her gasp as she took a step back from me. My head snapped open when it happened to see what a mess I caused. She was dressed in a white tank top and olive-green jogger pants, the same shade, which matched her eyes. Her long, light brown hair had been pulled up into a ponytail and none of the liquid had gotten into it.

           “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…I didn’t see you. Let me get some napkins. I’m really sorry. It’s all my fault. I should’ve paid attention to where I was going,” I said, frantically grabbing nearby napkins to dry her stained shirt.

           “That’s alright. No harm done. I’m just glad I ordered iced coffee. It wouldn’t have been good if it had been scalding hot,” she said, taking the napkins from me. Our fingers brushed and my breath hitched as a shock went through my skin.

           “I am sorry. I got both of our coffees on you. And you just ordered it. Your shirt is stained. I apologize. I-,”

           “It’s fine. Really. I’m not upset about it. I planned on changing anyway. The stains will wash out. No big deal. You can stop apologizing. I guess I should have looked up instead of walking to the tables,” she said, placing her hand on my wrist. Her eyes flashed up at me and my mouth went dry. They were familiar, but not really. It made me think of Keira and I had to clear my throat to say something.

           “At least let me pay for another coffee for you. I was already going to get another one for myself anyway. What did you order?” I offered. Damn, she’s making me nervous. Why do I feel hot all of a sudden? I feel like I know her from somewhere, I thought.

           “Sure. Thank you. I had a medium iced mocha,” she answered, removing her hand to wipe off her shirt a little more. I felt bad because it now revealed her sports bra from where it had spilled on her.

           “Take my jacket. It might cover up the stain,” I said, shrugging it off and handing it to her. She took it and slipped it around her shoulders, the size too big but helpful to hide the giant stain.

           “Thank you. Not to be weird, but it smells good. Whatever cologne you wear, keep wearing it,” she told me, rolling up the sleeves.

           “Keira Macpherson,” one barista called out. Chills went down my spine. The name, the girl I had been writing to had been called for.

           “That’s me. I was waiting on that chocolate chip muffin. I’ll be waiting over there,” she pointed to a table by a window and glanced me. “Hey, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she said, placing a hand on my arm. The same electricity went through my body as she did so.

           “I’m fine. Uh, I’ll bring it to you. Would you mind if I joined you?” I said.

           “I don’t mind at all. It’s weird. I feel like I know you,” she said walking past me. My Keira. The woman I was falling in love with was the one I just spilled coffee on. I purchased another dark roast and another iced mocha for her, walking over to the table where she was seated. My hands were shaking. She noticed, the same olive-green eyes she told me about, appearing concerned.

           “Are you sure you’re okay?” She asked, taking the mocha from my hand.

           “Yeah. Your name is Keira? Keira Macpherson?”

           “That’s me. Forgive me. I just realized I haven’t asked you your name. I’d like to know the person who accidentally spilled coffee onto me. Though, I figured out who you are. I recognize you from the news. You’re Captain America. I don’t actually know your real name, however,” she said, leaning in and whispering the last part. She had a twinkle of amusement in her expression and tone, a hint she was laughing at me.

           “My name is Steve Rogers,” I noticed her smile falter as she registered the name. I tried not to wince. This wasn’t the reaction I wanted. “Nice to meet you,” I said, tensing waiting for her to say something.

           “You’re Steve Rogers? You’re the man I’ve been writing to this entire time? But you’re…”

           “Captain America. I’m painfully aware of that. It’s what I kept from you. I wanted to tell you, believe me, but I-,”

           “You were frightened. Of how I’d react. I understand. I know Captain America signed up for the event, but I didn’t know Gloria would assign me to you. How interesting,” I nodded, waiting for the rest to sink in. I expected her to get excited as all my fans did, to ask me all about the Avengers and what it was like being one. I expected her to get up and shout to the world she was here with Captain America and how she got to write to him. I was afraid she’d turn away from the man behind the mask.

           My expectation never came. Instead a smile, small and genuine, stretched across her lips. It was gentle enough to make my heart hammer in my chest, yet powerful enough to put an end to my fear.

           “You’re my Steve? The man I’ve been waiting for all these months, for all my life. The one I’m falling in love with,” she said. She hesitated to take my hand, but did it anyway, stroking the back of it with her thumb. The tension I’d been holding released, a calmness spread over me as I returned her smiled. This is the reaction I’d been wanting. For her to see me as I am.

           “You’re not disappointed?” I asked, closing my fingers around hers.

           “No, I’m not. I’m happy. Happy to finally meet you. I’ve wanted to see you for so long. I’ve wanted to feel your touch as I have it right now,” Keira replied.

           “I’m glad. If it’s no trouble, I’d love to talk to you. Alone. Unless you’d rather stay here. I want to spend the rest of the day with you. Get to know you. And then I’d like to ask if you’d like to go on a date with me. Is there some place we can go to do exactly that?” I said.

           “My apartment isn’t too far from here. We can go there. Unless you think it’s too forward,” she answered. I squeezed her hand, watched as a blush colored her cheeks.

           “It’s perfect,” I said. We got up, taking our coffees with us and began the journey to her apartment. We still held hands, talking along the way. In the few short moments it took to get to her home, we had also began a journey into the rest of our future together.

[nemossubmarine]

DA RP Write-up #19.1

We’re back with our Dragon Age RP. This session starts a vague-ish group of of boat-related adventuring (with multiple GM’s), which I’ll tag together, since I’ve used campaign numbers to keep stuff together before. May change the numbering at some point. Anyway, what ever did happen in this boaty adventure?

Well, it’s been a month since our meeting with the giant water creature who’s red glowing tangly thing Randy looted. Getting a second ship has meant that our crew is seriously stretched thin, so we are hoping to get to Estwatch (as it’s the closest major port city) and hire new crew. 

First there’s discussion who’ll be permanently stationed on which ship. Boshara and Randy as first mate and captain will be on Randy’s ship, similarly as Humbert and Alf will be on Alf’s. 

Cahair and Elspet are in the air, mostly because they’d like to stay together, but Randy’s ship needs a surgeon and either Elspet or Richard would be most qualified to take the position, and obviously Cahair would follow his husband. 

Boshara just straight up doesn’t want to have Richard as her doctor, so Elspet joins Boshara and Randy. 

Other officers’ mates also get promotions onto Randy’s ship (except Kustaa, who was the treasurer’s mate only bc Boshara was the treasurer). 

Randy also takes all the lyrium dealers, while Alf’s ship will remain the main station for most of the mages. 

With lyrium comes also one of the ”templars” Will Turner. 

Randy takes also Egaeaea, so he and Boshara can start making runes. 

Randy’s mom comes too. 

Merle gets a promotion to the musician of Randy’s ship. 

Which basically means, almost all dwaves follow Randy, leaving poor(?) Humbert in a ship half-filled with elves.

Our crews divided, our heroes manage to get to Estwatch, somehow. We locate a tavern, kept by a man named Mikko and ask for a side room we can do some interviews in, and if he could advertise us a bit.

The first person that answers the call of the sea slinks into the room, and introduces himself as Tat-Tan Teor. 

He looks shady as fuck, and the image is not at all tarnished by the fact that he’d like to be hired as a ”spy master” (assassin??). 

But like, what do we have to lose, sure, we’ll hire him. Not as a spy-master though, a sailor will do.

Next up is an elven woman, who  has an impressive array of knives on her belt. 

Her name is Pirre and she would like to be hired as a cook’s mate. 

Boshara asks her for her special dessert, which she says is peach sorbet with a hint of mint. 

She is also questioned on whether she can use her knives on other things, she says she can, but she always makes sure to clean the knives before cooking. 

Are mages okay? As long as they stay out of her kitchen. 

Seems good, yes? 

(Alf suspects there’s something maybe up with the woman, but doesn’t voice it, he can figure it out later)

Mikko’s advertisements don’t seem to be catching much attention, so we send Merle outside to sing the songs of the people. Or ad jingles.

Soon Merle’s song brings in a human woman.

She seems almost more interested in Merle than the actual job, asking if he’s single (as far as everyone knows, yes). 

Our heroes are about ready to hire her, when the question of mages come up, and the woman says obviously they’d need to be all locked up, that’s what you do with mages, right? 

Cahair asks what she’d do if there was a mage right in front of her, right now, someone like himself perhaps, who wouldn’t just go to a Circle. 

The woman asks if everyone’s cool with this, and Boshara says she’d complain, but Cahair has her totes mind controlled. 

The woman overturns a lamp, setting the table on fire, and flees. 

Boshara puts out the flames with her ice magic. 

Her loss I guess.

Next in saunters a man with a lil pep in his step, a man by the name of Heimo. 

Apparently he’s very keen on joining after hearing Merle’s singing. 

We question his talents, and especially regarding his fighting prowess as he is quite a large man. 

Heimo says he doesn’t fight, well, maybe once, but only once and if he dies we’ll have to pay him extra. 

This seems agreeable so Heimo is taken on board.

A final person thrown in by Merle’s song, is a woman who introduces herself as Aude. 

Cahair immediately recognizes the name, asking if she is the Aude? She says one and the same. 

Humbert questions Cahair who is Aude, and Cahair says she’s got quite a reputation in the Raider circles. 

Aude mentions, among her many exploits, having been a templar. But she quit. 

Apparently she doesn’t like templars, or at least likes mages more than templars. 

This catches Humbert’s attention, and so Aude is hired, as all templar-qualified people are needed.

Merle’s song has stopped working, especially after that woman fled the scene shouting about mages, so our heroes ask Kanuuna where to head next. Apparently it’s Arthur Whiskers’ market day, so we get our wagon and park there to hopefully get some more hopefuls.

The first person who climbs on board is a qunari with a painted face, who introduces himself as Baelias. 

He seems a tad bit confused and out of it, but says he can work as a rigger. 

Cahair says he’d be happy to take Baelias on board, but questions him first on his contacts with qunari and Tal-Vasoth. 

Apparently Baelias is from Par Vollen or there abouts, but says he wants no contact with the qunari. 

Cahair and Boshara agree to have Kanuuna talk with him first a bit before hiring him. 

Kanuuna does so, and apparently Baelias is a mage, so y’know, the kind of people we take on board. Just will have to hope there’s no trouble. We’ve had quite enough qunari trouble.

Next come a pair of folk, a male elf dressed in humble clothing and a tall woman dressed in fine armor, looking stern. 

They are Klaus & Auriane LeLoup, and they are traveling together. 

Klaus is a wood cutter from Nevarra, Auriane is a soldier from Orlais. 

Humbert switches to Orlesian and asks if he could maybe teach Aurianse some sword tricks (winky face). 

Auriane replies that there’s no need, she’s plenty skilled, having been a chevalier. 

Klaus asks why the switch in language, and Alf comments that Humbert does that sometimes because he’s got no manner. 

Well, Klaus could work under our woodworker(words?help?) and Auriane could work with our weapons’ person, so the pair is taken on board. 

When they leave Klaus comments to Auriane about the interview going well and Auriane gives him a smile, the only one she’s given in the whole interview.

Last, but not least, a young man rushes in, clinging to Boshara’s feet and bursting into tears, telling that he needs to get away immediately. 

Cahair picks the man up and gives him the coveted empathy elf treatment. 

Once he has stopped crying long enough to speak the young man introduces himself as Zeni, and he’s in trouble with his former crew. 

Pretty soon it becomes apparent that the trouble is magic related, and also Zeni is of Tevinter origin (Cahair slightly scoots away), and also blood magic? 

Humbert starts to get threatening towards the boy when there’s shouts outside. 

Cahair goes to check it out, and of course it’s Zeni’s crew looking for him. 

Cahair doesn’t manage to lie convincingly that Zeni is not here, and Humbert drags him out anyway and demands to know the situation. 

Well, the situation is that Zeni sat at the wrong table and got into trouble. 

Humbert orders the men away, which they do, spitting out curses and threats. 

There’s quite a crowd around, so Humbert holds a speech about how clearly this little boy can’t be a mage and nothing to see here. 

Zeni is taken on board, but it looks like Estwatch is tapped out as far as crew goes, so our heroes will have to see if they can find another more favorable port somewhere else.

Where will our desire to get more crew lead us next? Find out next time!

[theliterateape]

When Facts Dispute Ideology, What Do You Do?

by Don Hall

When, in Chicago, the powers that be decided that it was a greener idea to ban plastic bags at groceries, it seemed like a great idea. I mean, the alarmist media told us how bad plastic bags were. The activists enthusiastically threw themselves at the wasteful practice. My wife was already reminding me at every trip to the Jewel to bring one of my several public radio tote bags instead of using the godawful plastic bags. If I forgot, I always went for paper because the dogma was that plastic bags were the embodiment of all things anti-environment.

"So about 30 percent of the plastic that was eliminated by the ban comes back in the form of thicker garbage bags," Taylor says. On top of that, cities that banned plastic bags saw a surge in the use of paper bags, which she estimates resulted in about 80 million pounds of extra paper trash per year

Plastic haters, it's time to brace yourselves. A bunch of studies find that paper bags are actually worse for the environment. They require cutting down and processing trees, which involves lots of water, toxic chemicals, fuel and heavy machinery. While paper is biodegradable and avoids some of the problems of plastic, Taylor says, the huge increase of paper, together with the uptick in plastic trash bags, means banning plastic shopping bags increases greenhouse gas emissions.

SOURCE

What? Huh? No, wait a minute. Really?

I’ve mentioned this set of facts to several people who I know are pretty hardcore environmental activists and the answer is always the same.

They don’t care. The ban on plastic bags is good. Their boots are steeped in concrete and their ideology won’t allow them to budge.

But the FACTS, I say. Ignoring the facts is for the Other Guys, right? We’re the side of the fence who respect the facts, preach the facts, and goddamn anyone who, y’know, votes against their interests by actively refusing to acknowledge the facts.

I’m noticing a similar trend when it comes to veganism. Vegans committed to the practice are finding themselves in poorer health than when they ate meat. Studies are being done that dispute the ideology of it being a healthier approach to food. Yet, vegans double down on their conviction despite evidence to the contrary. It’s certainly a more humane way of eating but healthier. Nope, not even close.

Likely the longest standing example of ideology obfuscating the facts is white supremacy. The facts simply do not support the idea that European heritage is in any way superior to the billions of people with color in their skin but the ideology is bedrock for some. They’ve tried to justify it with science and failed. They’ve legislated it and it failed. This many failures in trying to bolster the argument, with anything rational, would mean the idea is false on the foundation. And yet ideology reigns.

“As a result of their infatuation, existence overflows with purpose.”

Another is the Milton Friedman conceived Trickle Down Economic model. We’ve seen so many examples of that model in failure, it would seem to be complete lunacy to continue to trumpet it but the zealots can’t let it go.

The idea that there are no substantive differences between male and female brains is sticky right now because to suggest that there is a difference is to somehow be labeled anti-trans but facts are facts:

[The German philosopher] Arthur Schopenhauer said there are three phrases to the acceptance of any truth: First, the truth is ridiculed. Second, it’s opposed. Third, it’s accepted as self-evident. I spent much of the past 20 years in the ridicule phase: “Oh, Larry Cahill, you used to do such good work. Now he’s studying the sex-differences bullshit!”

But it’s reached a critical mass now where both within neuroscience and outside of it, it’s getting scary for people who believe there can’t be sex differences in brain. So, now we’re in phase two, which is fighting it. I tell people to stay away from the ideologues on both sides of the issue. Stay away from the ones who tell you, “There’s male and there’s female and never the two shall meet.” But also stay away from the ideologues on the other side, who unfortunately are given a voice by editors at places like the New York Times, who know nothing about the issue except that they’re afraid of appearing to be on the wrong side of it.

SOURCE

The tragic part of this beyond having those strident idiots at your birthday party as they turn everything including your choice of cake into a debate about their cause is that a more logical and progressive approach is this: recognize that you tried something and it failed. The underlying cause for trying something isn’t bereft of reason but doubling down on a failed solution is.

It’s more humane to avoid eating meat but it isn’t a healthy way to live. Be creative. White people are in no way superior to black and brown people. Accept it. Try redlining or something. There are too many plastic bags clogging up the sea. The ban made things worse.  Find a different solution and try that. If it fails, admit it and try something new.

Only one problem with this, though:

New research published in Current Biology on December 18, 2018, confirms this feeling: people with radical beliefs actually think differently than those without. Specifically, radicals have less metacognitive sensitivity than moderates.

Metacognition refers to the ability to be aware of and analyze one's own thinking. Metacognitive sensitivity is similar, but more specific: it refers to the ability to distinguish between one's correct and incorrect judgements. The new paper, titled "Metacognitive Failure as a Feature of Holding Radical Beliefs," shows that radicals have measurably less metacognitive sensitivity than moderates.

SOURCE

When facts dispute your ideology, please — PLEASE — access those two brain cells that control your ability for self reflection and understand that those facts mean your failed solution doesn’t need another shot. You need to come up with a different solution, dumbass.

Remember, the option of the intelligent outweighs the certainty of the ignorant.

[mountindis-blog]

may 6,2017

 today was an adventurous day! my only plan for today was to go volunteer and shopping with kuya c but it took a totally different turn starting with my whole family waking up late in the morning and ruined my “relaxing” morning; me, my breakfast and netlfix. my mother hasn’t been feeling well lately with achy bones so i’ve been trying to help with extra things around the house, like cutting the pineapple which almost made me late for my bus. I decided to take kuya jimuels bike to the loop so i wouldn’t be late. when i got there i realized that i had forgotten my keys so now i was stuck with predicament of going back home to drop off my bike and be late for volunteering or take the bike with me and just ride it to Vancouver. i decided to just take it with me. ive never rode my bike to Vancouver before so i was nervous with the getting my bike straddled on the bus and taking it off and how long it would take me. all is well, and i survived with just a few tries getting it on and off. the bus drivers patient and even willing to get out of the bus to help me so that was nice. i got off the bus, rode the elevator up, carried my bike up the second flight of stairs, already sweating and waited for the train. i started getting nervous when the broadway station was coming to a near since that station is always busy. i took a deep breathe and went for it. i carried my bike up the stairs hoping not to hit anyone but also ignoring everyone. i felt like everyone was looking at me since i was such a small girl carrying such a big bike up the stairs. but at the same time i was proud. “heck ya! look at me! im a strong woman who can carry a bike up the stairs all my her self! suck it!” (i didnt actually say that but i definitely said it in my mind). i waited for the 99 and still struggled to get my bike on and off lol but at that point i didn’t care, they had to wait for me wether they liked it or not. while on the bus i was trying to figure out bike routes and alley ways i could take so i didnt have to bike next to cars or have people get mad at me since i didnt have a helmet. i went through smaller streets of mount pleasant but even that was all down hill. going down the hill without getting hit by a car or falling or have anyone scream at me for not wearing a helmet was relieving; still i was anxious about going through the busy streets of downtown. and then i finally made it to the empty road behind the grand central station a little less anxious about what i had just gone through. i finally made it to the garden. there was bubbles on the ground from the fire station right beside with firemen washing their fire trucks. i saw ggn trying to open the green house and greeted jss at the door. when i told her what had happened she misunderstood and thought i had biked all the way from marine drive but i didn’t tell her that i wasn't capable of doing that to make it less awkward. we planted, sorted, counted, watered, all that fun stuff till it was ready to go home. i stayed behind for a little bit with gegan since i was waiting for kuya c anyways. once he got there i showed him around the park and all the things we were planting and the bees!! afterwards we biked up into downtown, through the city all the way to sunset beach. i biked from the outskirts of chinatown all the way to sunset! amazing! i didnt think i could do it but i did!! we stopped to get bubble tea and bun mi and ate it on the beach front! it was such good weather for going to the beach. after our little rest we decided to bike the sea wall. something ive always wanted to since the day i moved here but never got to till 12 years later. it was absolutely beautiful! i made me see stanley park a whole different way. stanley park is jaw dropping park honestly. such dense wilderness in the middle of the city, who knew?! ive lived in this city for 12 years and it still blows my mind away. when kuya c and i biked, we went the wrong way (on purpose because we are dumb) and kept getting yelled at for going the wrong way lmao. they were all so kind though i just felt bad that it was too late to turn around so we had to keep going. i think people thought that we were tourist since we were both asain, and looked like tourist. kuya had a tote bag around his neck with “abidas” written on  it seemingly like a fake adidas wanna be. i found it funny though. at least we were having a laugh out of it. it was getting late so we decided to cut through the park to get back into the city only to find our selves lost in it. we went around a lake twice without even noticing and had to stop at every diverging road to carefully choose with path to take. we evetually got out of their and i dont think ive never been happier to see a paved road with a bunch of cars going through. we biked back to the city and he dropped me off at waterfront station. it was such a good day. i remember the last time i said it was the best day was a couple summers back when kuya and i went to the beach and swam. it always seems like he’s always apart of the great days in my life. i feel like that episode in arthur when him and all his friends have flashbacks to all the best days of their lives and they all have a massive realization that all they were apart of it all. it was like that and it was good. i know that whenever im with my brothers its promised that it will always be a good day.