#took some liberties to describe the process rather than the actual events

[mandoalorian]

Touch Starved [Frankie Morales x Reader]

Summary: You and your best friend Frankie Morales have had silent feelings for each other since the day you met. No one could’ve ever guessed the strange circumstance which occurred one fateful night, and how the proceeding events would be the push you needed to take your friendship to the next level.

Word count: 6k (what the heck this is the longest piece i’ve ever written BY FAR)

Rating: 18+ only.

Warnings: SMUT, thigh riding, oral (m and f receiving), alcohol consumption/intoxication, food/drink mention, lot of pining over each other and just some general fluff

Author’s Note: This is my first ever Frankie fic anddddd my first ever smut lol. Please be kind I hope you enjoy. PS if you want a part two let me know! xx

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•••

Your eyes were heavy and you shuffled into the cushion, adjusting your position on the couch until you felt more comfortable. You grazed your fingers against the pages of your book, but found yourself re-reading the same sentence over and over again in attempt to keep yourself awake. Even your two scented candles were close to burning out, and you figured it was time for bed.

Gently dropping the book on the floor, you closed your eyes and felt yourself drift off into a dreamy sleep when a loud bang on your door woke you up with a jolt. Your heart was pounding as you bolted upright, clutching the thin wooled blanket that was lazily draped around your body in fear. Within seconds, you heard another bang on the door. Rubbing your eyes, you flicked on your phone and checked the time. 11-48pm. Almost midnight. You groaned, standing up and padding to the front door of your apartment. Who could possibly want to see you at this hour? You wondered. Not even bothering to check through the peephole, you let out an elongated groan.

“Who is it?” You called out and rubbed your tired eyes. You ran your fingers through your hair in hope that you would look somewhat presentable for when you greeted your uninvited visitor.

Without hesitation you heard him. A voice you were so familiar with. “It’s Frankie, man! You gotta let me in!” you noted that his voice sounded urged and your stomach filled with concern. Was he alright? Why was he at your apartment at 11-48pm? A million thoughts raced through your mind in just the second it took you to open the door. The thought of Frankie being here made you nervous, but excited. In a fluster, you stumbled with the door lock before finally managing to get it open.

There he was. His dark brown waves were tucked into one of his infamous baseball caps and he was wearing a dark green flannel and a washed out pair of denim jeans. You tried to search for answers in his face, but he truly seemed fine, other than the slight panic in his voice. He slid past you, allowing himself into your apartment and began pacing around.

“Would you like a drink?” You asked, almost rhetorically. Frankie didn’t answer, nor did he need to. You were already clicking open the bottle of ice cold Bud and handing it over to him. He took a big sip out of the alcoholic beverage, and you took the liberty of admiring him as he done so. He wasn’t watching you anyway, but instead focusing on downing the drink. That's what he needed. A drink to wash away his worries. How could he ever explain this to you?

You loved the way his chocolate brown eyes shone under the candlelight and the way his skin looked almost soft and golden. You waited patiently for him to finish drinking, never wanting to hurry him.

Frankie appreciated the atmosphere of your apartment too. He always had. It made a change from his current living situation. Frankie wasn’t picky as such, but living with his four best guy friends definitely had its downfalls. Whether that be Ben constantly hogging the living room television to play his Call of Duty video games, or Santiago bringing home a different lady every other night, making such noise that nobody but Will could sleep, or even Tom with his untidy behaviour and complete disregard for everyone else who lived with him. It wasn't great but what other choice did Frankie have? Other than you. You didn’t feel like a choice to him, you felt like a necessity. He needed you. You were his safe place, and your chic apartment felt more like home than his shabby downtown place.

“I gotta ask you a favour.” Frankie prompted eventually, sliding down into the cream faux-leather sofa and placing his bottle of beer on the coffee table. You took a seat in the chair opposite him and folded your arms, waiting for him to continue. “Actually, I don’t know. Never mind. Uhm… it’s a funny story to be honest. But, maybe it’s fine. It’s not fine. It’s just, well-”

“Spit it out Frankie!” You giggled jokingly, reaching over and nudging him slightly. He was immediately put at ease by just the simplest brush of your fingers, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with you. He found himself staring into the burning flame of your cinnamon scented candle. He felt mildly ashamed about how this whole situation had even surfaced in the first place.

“Me and Santi… we had a bet. A dare kinda thing.” Frankie explained, shuffling around with discomfort. He was definitely embarrassed that he had driven himself all the way to your apartment in the dead of night just to tell you this— or rather, ask you this. “The guys were teasing, you know how they are. About how- well, you know, I’ve never really been with a girl since…” Frankie paused.

“Marià.” You sighed, and Frankie nodded slowly. “Your ex wife…”

“Yeah. And I know it’s crazy but after the divorce and everything… I just haven’t really uh, had the opportunity. I mean I’ve had the opportunity it’s just- never felt right. I suppose. And you know, it’s not that I don’t want to start dating again. Or seeing women. Sleeping with wo-” Frankie was about to start rambling about his sex life (or lack there of) and you were not prepared to let your mind journey there. Not that you had never thought about it before… no. He was your best friend. And it would be wrong. Besides, Frankie had a tendency to over share but you were always there to help him get back on track, whereas others, namely the guys, would tease and mock him for it.

“Why are you here, Frankie?” You cut him off with as much delicacy as you could muster up. Your voice was soft, and Frankie noticed how gentle you had always been with him.

“Santi said he bet I couldn’t ask a girl out if I tried,” Frankie explained with a short sigh and you frowned. You knew Santiago well and you knew that he and Frankie were like brothers, but Frankie had been through a lot lately and Santiago never really had the best choice of words. You wondered if he had hurt Frankie, and instantly felt defensive over your friend.

“And then what happened?”

“I told Santi I could get a girl, and then, this afternoon, he asked me how I had come on. I lied, told him I asked out a pretty girl. He asked me about her and well, the girl I described… I guess… in my head I was just picturing you.” Frankie said, and finally glanced up at you, his pretty eyes shimmering in the dim light. You felt your heart rate increase at his revelation. “You know? It’s funny. This made up girl looks just like you.” He chuckled lightly. Your silence was deafening and his stomach filled with anxiety. “I don’t know why!” he assured but that was a lie. He knew why. He was your first thought at the start of the day you were his last thought at the end of the day. Every moment he got, he was thinking about you— pining over you.

“Oh,” you whispered, unable to process any more words. You weren’t sure what to make of it. You brushed away your feelings, thinking that you only came to Frankie’s mind because you saw him so much. You were the only girl he really hung out with.

“Of course Santi didn’t believe me. I’m a terrible liar. You know that. But I really don’t want the guys to catch me out on this! It’s so embarrassing.” Frankie was exasperated. You took to your feet and walked over to him, falling back on the sofa and resting your hand on Frankie’s forearm. To Frankie, your touch was like electricity.

“You do not need to be ashamed of something like this Frankie,” you assured him. Frankie took off his cap and ran his fingers through his brown locks.

“I know I know,” he sighed before looking back at you. “Santi wants to meet this fake girl. He’s been seeing Yovanna again and he’s organised a double date kind of thing. For him, Yo, myself and well… I'm hoping, you.”

You blinked hard. “Wait,” you paused. “You want to go on a date with me?”

This had to be dream. Had you just fallen asleep on the sofa? You pinched yourself and checked the wall clock above the television. Only a few minutes had ticked by. Definitely not a dream.

“Fake date.” Frankie corrected and you felt your heart sink slightly.

Or maybe it was a nightmare.

You shuffled around, not knowing how to feel. “Uhm, Frankie… I’m not sure…” you hesitated. All you had wanted for so long was to go on a date with Frankie. A real date. You had been dreaming about the day he would ask you out since you first met him, but this wasn’t what you had pictured at all.

“Please,” Frankie begged, clasping his hands together in a pleaing manner. “Just pretend to be my date.”

And how could you ever say no to Frankie Morales’ puppy dog eyes?

The night of the date, you and Frankie had agreed to meet at the restaurant. You hadn’t really discussed anything prior, but this date, albeit fake, was all you could think about. Every chance you had, you were thinking about Frankie. You wondered how it would be, pretending to be his date. And equally, Frankie was thinking the same.

He struggled to catch any sleep, and instead would lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. He wondered how to fake a date. He didn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable and he simply hadn’t dated anyone in so long. He was so sure that he would embarrass himself, and that you’d never want to talk to him again.

Frankie, Santiago and Yovanna were already sitting around the restaurant table before you arrived. It was a quaint little Italian place on the coast and it had the most beautiful evening view. The sky was darkening and there wasn't a cloud in sight, but instead, pearly white stars pierced the velveteen abyss above and it looked like something straight out of a romance movie. The environment was perfect. The place was slightly out of the usual burger joint budget for Frankie and Santiago, but Yovanna insisted on the high-end restaurant, and even Frankie had to admit it would be nice to eat some good quality food for a change.

You weren’t late, but rather Frankie, Santiago and Yovanna were early. Frankie had already downed three bottles of beer before you arrived, trying to wash away his nerves. By the time you came, he was already slightly intoxicated. His ease was all that mattered and besides, Frankie was a happy drunk.

When Frankie saw you enter the restaurant, it was like his whole world stopped. He always thought you were beautiful, but tonight he was looking at you in a whole different light. You weren’t in your usual sweats and hoodie, and truthfully he had never seen you like this before. Your little black dress hugged your body in all the right places, and your matching heels clicked against the marble floor as you padded over to the table. You felt a blush creep upon your cheeks when you caught Santi gawking.

“Whoa, you clean up well!” Santiago complimented, looking you up and down, grinning ecstatically.

Frankie tried to keep his cool, but he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He took in your bare legs and how fine they looked in your dress, and he admired the way you had styled your hair. It was out of your face, and he appreciated that, because now he could infatuate himself over your features. You wore minimal makeup, but your eyeshadow accentuated your eye colour and your choice of lip gloss plumped your lips slightly. Frankie’s eyes went from being drawn to your legs, to now your lips, and he cursed himself for the thoughts he was thinking. Fake date. He reminded himself; but he couldn't help but question— what if it was real? If he could, he’d take you in his arms right then and there and kiss you.

You took your seat next to Yovanna and opposite Frankie, trying to remain as nonchalant as possible, but as you felt Frankie’s eyes burn into you, electricity sparked in your in your lower stomach. A certain kind of excitement. You pushed it away the best you could, focusing on reading the menu in front of you and deciding on the food you would order. Frankie pushed over a vibrant purple drink in a cocktail glass. “I got you your favourite,” Frankie smiled, and you felt your heart flutter. “I hope you don’t mind.”

You smiled and took a sip, but scrunched up your nose when the strong taste of vodka hit. “Um, sweetie,” You thought that tonight you would have to force out the pet names but it came so naturally. “How many shots are in here?”

“It’s a treble.” Frankie bit his lip, watching you with intent as you took another sip. His heart blossomed at the little name you called him.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?!” you gasped playfully and Frankie offered you another warm smile. “I don’t mind. Actually, I need it. Had a bad day at work.” you explained.

“It was Santi’s idea.” he admitted and Santiago innocently raised his hands in response. Frankie reached over the table, taking your hands in his and brushing his thumbs over your knuckles. You felt a shiver run down your spine at his touch. “Bad day?” he furrowed his eyebrows together, concern peaking in his gentle voice.

“Talk about it later.” you promised. Frankie brought your hands to his lips and kissed them softly. You had to stop yourself from swooning on the spot. Your heart began to pick up speed again and at this point, you were finding it difficult to remember that this was all fake.

As the four of you ate your food, you and Frankie were flirting all night; playing footsie under the table and exchanging dirty jokes. At one point, you accidentally ran your heel up his leg and he let out an accidental groan, fillet mignon almost spilling out his mouth. You hurled with laughter and his cheeks rosied up in embarrassment. Both you and Frankie were enjoying yourself way more than you had ever even considered.

“Wait,” you spluttered out in a fluster of giggles. You were still laughing at one of Frankie’s jokes. “Yovanna and Santi have gone home.” You noticed, pointing your finger at the empty seats next to yourself and Frankie.

“Oh yeah,” Frankie replied. “And we didn’t even notice.” He burst into laughter again and you followed, the alcohol really letting you both lose your inhibitions. “That bastard left me with his and Yovanna’s bill too.” Frankie shook his head in disbelief.

“Let me help you pay,” you unzipped your purse but Frankie put his hand out and stopped you.

“Don’t worry baby, this is on me.” Frankie promised and offered you a cheeky wink.

Santiago and Yovanna were gone. They had no one to prove their fake date to— and yet, exchanging flirtatious comments were simply too fun to stop.

“Okay,” you laughed, taking a gulp of red wine. You were sure the warm liquid must have stained your lips crimson with how much you had drunk, but you weren’t too concerned. “But next time, I’m paying.”

“There’s going to be a next time?" Frankie asked you hopefully.

“Isn’t there?” you returned a smile. “This was the best fake date I’ve ever been on.” You and Frankie let out a boisterous laugh, even catching the attention of other couples who were sitting around you trying to enjoy their romantic candlelit dinners.

“Touché,” he agreed, taking out his wallet and signing a check before clipping it to the bill and standing up. He took your hand, pulling you forward but you stumbled to your feet, falling into his chest. He was so broad and his arms were so big. Your feelings for him picked up a notch and you were unsure how long you could keep up the charade of pretending you saw him as just a friend.

You thought about how strong he was, barely flinching when you fell into him, and honestly, it turned you on. He slung his hands around your waist, slowly pushing you off his, but even when you weren’t resting on him anymore, he kept his big hands around you as you left the restaurant and walked through the parking lot to Frankie’s truck. You were grateful because without him guiding you and steadying you, you’d probably struggle to even reach the truck.

The close proximity between you and him made Frankie overwhelmed, his palms getting clammy and his cock hardening from your scent alone. Everything felt so intense. The cool night air took his breath away and he loved the way he could feel the shape of your body through your dress. He craved more.

He hoped that in the darkness of the night, you hadn’t noticed his throbbing length under his jeans. He slid into the driver seat of the car and you sat next to him, strapping yourself in. Frankie turned the key and as you set off, you both sat there in silence. Silence around Frankie was never uncomfortable, but this wasn’t a situation you were used to. It was a big difference to the environment in the bustling restaurant, but now it was just you two, alone, in his car— and you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.

“Come home with me.” You said eventually, not moving an inch and still looking at the road ahead. You managed to find the confidence, but you weren’t yet able to bring yourself to look him in the eye. He was your best friend. And you realised that what you were asking of him was a lot.

Frankie wasn’t put off, in fact, he felt his cock twitch at your words and he had to suppress a moan from escaping his lips. Did you really want him to take you home? As if on cue, you continued your proposal.

“Stay the night.” This verified Frankie’s thoughts and you hoped he had got the hint. You looked up into the rear view mirror and watched Frankie as he concentrated on driving, his body completely tensed up. He didn’t say a word, but when he detoured, you knew he was taking you back to your apartment. You wanted to calm him. Relax him. Soothe him. You let your fingers grace his jean clad leg, accidentally brushing over his erection. Frankie cursed under his breath. “S-sorry.” you mumbled, feeling your face flush. He was already hard. You crossed your legs tight together, trying to ignore the way your cunt was already dripping for him.

“No,” Frankie said. “Was good. Felt good.” his grip on the steering wheel tightened as you contemplated his words. He liked it. You moved your hand over his crotch again and began to palm him as he drove. He felt so constricted in his jeans and he couldn’t wait to get them off. It wasn’t long before his vision began to feel hazy under your touch but luckily he soon pulled up in front of your apartment. You removed your hand from his leg and let yourself out of the truck, feeling dazed also, and hurried inside. Frankie followed, loosing his belt as he stepped foot into the building. He was throbbing and in such desperate need of relief.

You pressed the button and waited for the elevator to come. By the time Frankie caught up with you, it was here, and the pair of you stepped inside. As the doors began to close on you, Frankie crashed his lips onto yours, pushing his body against you. This time it was his turn to touch you. His rough manner made you gasp but you needed to feel his body against yours. You let his hands explore you, his fingers rolling over the curves of your breasts and the dips in your waist. Within seconds, the elevator door opened with a ping and you had reached the floor of your apartment. Hungrily, you grabbed Frankie by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to your front door, unlocking it with haste. Once you were inside, you turned to shut the door behind you when Frankie pinned you against it. His hands were on your wrists and your arms were spread out over the wood. He pressed a kiss into your jaw. “You want this?” his voice was rough and barely above a whisper, and his manner made your knees weak. He was so close to you, you could smell the beer mixed with his fragrance.

You didn’t dare move, but instead mewled out a tiny “yes”. Frankie smirked and turned you around so he could look at you in the eyes. He still had a hold of you, his grip was as tight as vice and his eyes were no longer the usual shade of honeyed brown but instead were much darker and lustful with a predatory glint. He kissed you again, hard, and his tongue swiped along your lower lip, begging for entry which you quickly granted. It was easy to get lost in the kiss; he was so good and so passionate. He worked his hands all over your body, pulling the occasional moan from your lips. Hearing the noises you made felt like music to his ears. You felt his hardened manhood press against the inside of your thigh and you shuddered, breaking the kiss to regain your breath. “Bedroom.” you mumbled out. You took Frankie’s hand and dragged him through the living room and into your small bedroom. He sat himself down on the edge of your bed and began to kick off his shoes when you took him by surprise and straddled him, wrapping your legs around him and initiating another heated kiss.

You needed some kind of release and on impulse, you began to grind yourself over Frankie’s denim clad leg. Your heart was racing as you rubbed yourself over the material, a fire burning deep in your stomach at the friction between the jeans and the thin silk panties you were sporting. Frankie placed a soft kiss to your lips, along your jaw, and down your neck as you began to get yourself off on him. He bit down gently, leaving his mark, wanting to claim you as his own. “Mine.” His voice was dark and you grabbed his shoulders, grinding on his leg harder.

“Yours.” You shakily exhaled, trying to keep your composure. You shuffled forward, further onto him and started rubbing yourself over his erection, pulling a groan from his lips, and you couldn’t help but smile knowing that this was your doing. You kept at it, enjoying the control, and watched Frankie’s eyes close from the sensation as you grinded over him.

“Yeah baby that’s it,” he praised. “Take what you need.”

Those four words threw you over the edge. You reached up, letting your fingers tangle in Frankie’s chocolate coloured locks of hair, tugging at them as you rode out your high. He opened his eyes, watching you as you dropped your head back, seeing stars. You were truly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Feeling satisfied, you scrambled off him, your legs shaky and he grabbed the hem of your dress. He began to pull it off you as eagerly as he could. Frankie noticed the damp patch on his leg from your wetness and muttered another curse. You were so wet and it was all for him. He looked up at you, watching you kick your dress to one side and felt his jaw tick. He was mesmerised by your body. In only your panties, you straddled him once more, and Frankie let his hands roam over your breasts, giving them the occasional squeeze.

“My turn.” you told him, pulling his shirt over his head and pushing him into the blankets of your bed. He let out a soft groan as his head hit your pillow and you shuffled backwards a little. You unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them before pulling them down to his ankles. Frankie kicked them off and they pooled into a pile amongst his shirt and your dress at the bottom of the bed. A little gasp escaped your lips when you eyed up his hardened length under the thin cloth of his boxer shorts, a small patch of wetness already visible. You dipped your hands into his underwear and pulled him out, licking your lips at the sight of his precum beading at the tip.

You let your fingers wander his length, teasingly, making sure you were as soft as possible. Then, you pulled away and spat into your hand. You wrapped your hand around his cock and began pumping at it. “Ngh, s-so good,” Frankie grunted, closing his eyes as you worked at him. “Haven’t-haven’t been touched in so long.”

“Relax,” you soothed. “Let me take care of you.”

Frankie bucked his hips further into your hand and you kept going. His eyes fluttered shut and his mind was in a solid state of euphoria. This was better than he had ever imagined and he knew he wouldn’t last long. You stroked him up and down and watched him as he came undone beneath you.

“Wanted this for so long,” he admits mindlessly. “Imagined this, so many nights… imagined your pretty lips around my-”

You cut Frankie off by taking his length in your mouth and pushing as deep as you could, opening your throat up to him and gagging slightly from his length. However, it didn’t take long to become comfortable with the way his cock filled you. He let out a gasp, his back arching and his fists grabbing the bed sheets. You bobbed your head up and down and he took a fistful of your hair, only encouraging you further.

He raised his head and watched you take him. Your hand still wet, you begin to pump the remaining length of him that you couldn’t fit into your mouth and he shudders in ecstasy. With your free hand, you cradle his balls, rubbing circles with your thumb and you can feel him almost lose it completely.

“Won’t last,” he warns you. “Please, wanna be inside you. Wanna feel your pussy.” he practically begs and as soon as you feel his cock twitch in your mouth, you pull off him, leaving a trail of your saliva between your tongue and his length.

You admired Frankie’s naked body spread out in your bed, a thin sheen of sweat glazing over his chest. It was a sight you had only dreamed about. He sat up and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you down so now he was on top. He positioned himself in between your legs and gently spread them apart, eyeing up the dark patch in the crotch of your panties from where you had previously orgasmed on his leg. He let his finger glide over the material, rubbing against the bud of your clit and you whimpered in desperation. “So wet for me.” he drew out. “Can I taste?” he asked, looked up at you with his big brown eyes. You wanted to smack that innocent look he had playing on his face.

“Frankieee.” you cried out. You would never, ever deny oral from Frankie but right now you craved something else. “Need you inside me. Please.”

Frankie pulled your panties down your legs and threw them to the floor. “Oh baby,” he moaned, running his fingers through your slick wet folds. “I’m just warming up.” his voice was like honey and he attached his mouth to your clit, sucking intently. You threw your head back at the sensation and felt his mustache and stubble tickle you as he worked your core.

This was better than anything Frankie had ever dreamed about. He needed to taste every drop of your arousal. He had wanted this for so long, and now it was finally happening. He wanted to savour every moment like it was his last. After all, you two were the best of friends and he didn’t know where exactly you’d stand about all of this tomorrow. If you’d even want to see him again. You were both risking a lot but somehow, it felt worthwhile.

Frankie found it difficult to remain composed as he devoured you and felt your body shake as you neared your climax. He grabbed your thighs, steadying you as you let out a wail. “Please Frankie.” you cried out, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Need you inside of me.”  You reminded, tugging on his hair even harder. He took his finger and grazed your entrance while still working his tongue against you. “Stop teasing.”

For once, Frankie listened to you and pulled his lips away from you. He thought he could cum just from eating you out and he didn’t want that to happen. This could be his only chance. You groaned in frustration at the break of contact. You were so close and he had edged you completely before pulling away. You had asked for it. He was such a tease. Frankie hovered himself over you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You felt his cock nudge against your core and you dug your fingernails into his back. You needed him now.

“Do you have a condom?” Frankie whispered into your ear. He hadn’t brought any to the fake date because truthfully, he didn’t expect the night would be ending like this.

“I’m safe.” you promised him and he smiled, kissing your lips. You laced your fingers into his hair as he steadied himself on the bed.

“Are you ready?” Frankie questioned, nudging his cock over your entrance again causing you to let out a wail.

“Please Frankie. I’m ready.”

The second those two words left your lips, Frankie thrusted deep inside you. You gasped as he slowly adjusted himself inside of you and, still experiencing your high from when he ate you out, you knew you wouldn't ask long. He felt your walls tighten around him and he knew it too.

“I’m gonna cum.” you warned him, tugging on his curls at the nape of his neck and pulling his head down into your collarbones. He pinched at your skin with his teeth and increased his speed.

“Cum for me.” He instructed, his voice dark. With a few more sloppy thrusts, you came undone beneath him, dragging your nails down his back. He didn’t stop and continued to thrust into you as you climaxed causing small screams to emit from your lips. Frankie loved the little noises you made.

“Shit,” he whispered, his coarse hands finding and massaging your breasts. “Your cunt gets so tight when you cum.”

“Frankieeee, keep doing that and I’ll cum again.” you said softly and you felt Frankie’s lips twist into a wicked smirk as he pushed himself deeper inside of you.

“Ngh you feel so good,” Frankie grunted, pearls of sweat beading at his hairline. “Can you cum for me again? Can you give me another one?”

“Yes Frankie,” you obeyed, cupping your hands around his face and forcing him to look you in the eyes while he fucked you. His coarse facial hair grazed your hands but nothing felt as good as his length filling you up, hitting you in just the right spot with each thrust.

“I want you to cum with me,” Frankie gasped, groaning loudly as he felt his cock twitch inside you. He was close, and you could feel it too. “Same time.” he instructed. He was so used to giving orders, that it turned you on even more. “Can you do that for me?” his voice was urged and he kept his pace consistent.

You managed to give him a small nod and closed your eyes feeling nothing but pure bliss and ecstasy. “I’m close!” you managed to cry out.

“Me too, n-not long baby,” Frankie promised you. “Say my name.”

“Fuck Frankie, you fuck me so good. Your cock fills me up so well. Feels so good,” you moaned, your legs tightening around his waist.

“That’s it.” Frankie groaned.

“Cum inside me Frankie,” you gasped. “Pl-please. Need to feel your warm cum inside of me.”

“Gonna count down baby girl,” Frankie said, straightening up and pushing more hard thrusts inside of you. He admired your tangled body between him and brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing at it while he finished fucking you. “Are you ready?”

“Frankieeee.” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut.

“3, 2,” Frankie pushed one final deep thrust into you. “1.” You and Frankie both came together, your wet cunt squeezing his cock like a vice and his thick ropes of cum spilling inside of you.

Frankie rolled off you and lay next to you. You curled yourself into his damp chest and he slung his arm around you. You felt safe. Protected. You knew that Frankie would never let anyone or anything hurt you but now it felt different. He was your safety, and you were his home. For a few minutes, you both laid there in silence trying to regain your breath and settle down.

“That was-” Frankie started but you cut him off.

“So good.” you smiled and he grinned back in agreement.

“The best.” He replied and gave you a little squeeze of reassurance.

“Hey Frankie?” You asked and he hummed in acknowledgement. “If that was a fake date… what the hell do you do on a fake date?” You raised an eyebrow and giggled when you saw Frankie’s cheeks rosy up.

“Wanna find out?” He beckoned and your grin couldn’t have grown any wider. You were finally going to get your chance to have a real date with Frankie.

[retelling-of-ragnarok]

i’m gonna be explaining what exactly Gwen is for this anon!! and maybe a little more, idk i like to ramble. but it’s all gonna be under the cut, because it’s long. :’)

@simpemone bc yer character is mentioned in here, but not by name.

i took all kinds of creative liberties with this. don’t mind me.

Gwen’s species is actually a very complicated thing, as it’s a result of combining things that should have never been combined. To put it simply though, it’s a combination of the holiest being in existence, with the most corrupt.

I’ll get into a deeper explanation of how something like that could possibly work, or be created, in a different post. I simply want this post to be an explanation on Gwen’s species, their abilities, and their purpose— Any more than that would get into the history of their family itself.

To explain a bit more— They’re a product of a forbidden love, some several millenniums prior during a Holy War, between a First Blood and a… holier being. Normally, such an offspring couldn’t have been born from these two, but they somehow managed, and sent the child out into the world. It was like the kid’s entire being, down to their soul makeup, was split directly in half. Both holy and unholy energies pushing and pulling, trying to find some sort of balance.

Fast forward several thousand years, and an entire bloodline had been born from this anomaly. They were described as humans with the abilities to use to magic—but that was only partially correct. There are some… special prodigies in their family, whose soul and mana stream is completely different than the rest of them.

Take any of Gwen’s siblings, or even his father for example: They really are, simply humans with the ability to use magic. They’re more durable, and have slightly longer lifespans, but they’re still humans nonetheless.

But, people like Gwen and his Grandfather, are something completely different. Their souls and mana are much more powerful, and not at all human like their family’s. And something that, in perspective, had no business actually existing. It’s an anomalous soul trying to exist in a human body— If given enough time, it might teeter completely to one side.

Karl took advantage of this, and decided to play a little game alongside his current plan. He wants to see just how long it would take for Gwen’s soul to completely fall off balance— be it towards corruption or salvation. He used the guise of a contract to have him in his grasps at a young age, and since then has been cultivating him. Like a carefully grown plant. And, if Gwen manages to actually kill him during this process, that’s a bonus for him as well.

So, at the present, Gwen’s neither human, demon, or some holier entity; but rather just floating in the middle of it all. His soul is constantly changing, acting as if it will fall completely over before balancing itself out again. Karl suspects it’ll corrupt itself, given everything Gwen’s had to endure since childhood and where he had to grow up… But a certain someone suspects that he’ll learn to perfectly balance out his soul. Creating an entirely new species all together.

——

As a general summary of their magical abilities: since they fall in the middle between human and non human, their mana is similar to raw energy. And thus, the abilities of each family member simply depends on how they developed and converted their magic to suit their needs and specialties. Gwen’s abilities specifically will be listed in his biography.

——

There’s a fairytale written about the Exicor family, that used to be told to young children in Makai. It painted them as villains and thieves. It details the events of Holy War (though toned down, as its a children’s book), and how the First Bloods had something important stolen from them, thus causing them to lose. It’s usually just read as a children’s tale, a method to keep the young ones from running off to the Human World. But if examined carefully, reads as a silent order to both find and ‘return,’ the family to their ‘rightful owners.’ The book doesn’t mention a family name at all—doesn’t even have a clear description of them aside from white hair and bright pink eyes, with cross shaped pupils— but identifies them by a similar mark they all share.

Gwen, and the rest of their family, are told a different tale. One that’s a little more accurate to the real events, but still not quite right. It, once again, details the events of Holy War, but the ending is different. It ends in something more like a curse, and a punishment for unrequited love. It states that their powers weren’t given to them at birth, but more of a curse that they’ve grown to take advantage of. But their fairytale doesn’t stop there— theirs is much longer. Detailing what happened to them after the war’s events, and how now they’ve become a cursed family of people that humans have been trying to get rid of for thousands of years.

Gwen hasn’t heard either of these stories. He refused to listen to the ones his father told him, and hasn’t been able to find the one told to the older generation of demons. But he opts to come to his own conclusions about his family.

——

from this point onward i’m just going to state some general facts about gwen as a result of his species. just things that i don’t have some big or elaborate information for. :3

-> Since their soul is constantly drifting back and forth, Gwen’s body is slowly starting to take on different features of his race combination. (ie: his hair is slowly turning whiter, and his eyes are changing. throughout his story, he starts to grow fangs, and develop a craving for blood).

-> On the topic of blood, Gwen’s blood is an odd taste for anyone who drinks it. It isn’t BAD, per say. The few who have had a taste described it as one of the best things they’ve ever had. But it’s overwhelming, and overstimulates their senses if they ever drink too much.

-> Other species can’t actually tell what Gwen is. It’s confusing for them, since there’s such powerful aura coming from a human body. So most of them just opt to call him ‘a odd human,’ because they’re not used to something like him. (Karl, of course, is an exception.)

-> Gwen isn’t aware of their species. The only current family member who’s even remotely aware of what they are is their grandfather, who hasn’t explained it to them. So Gwen wholeheartedly believes that he’s a human.

-> Despite Gwen not even being aware of their species, they’ve often had older Makai citizens compare them to the ‘villains’ in the old fairytale. And often feel sorry that they have to resemble such a hated figure in demon society.

[matt0044]

The Anime Community has a FUNimation Problem. Full Stop.

In Prison School’s seventh episode, Anzu Yokoyama’s dialogue with Shingo Wakamoto has her calling out his attempt at talking to a woman and kicking starting a fairly obligatory romantic subplot. The English Dub, up to that point, had all the hallmarks of FUNimation’s script writers playing off the already existing comedic aspect of the title. Some disapproved while other embraced it.

However, the dub would go a step further by having Anzu’s emasculation of Shingo involve a reference to the then ongoing Gamergate controversy. If anybody knew of the movemen then, you’d know this wasn’t a good idea. Every geek and their mother took offense to it right out the gate, claiming that it was FUNimation “shoving politics” where they don’t belong and insulting their fans.

To play devil’s advocate, Prison School as a whole is all about young men being integrated into a formerly all-girl school with all the sleazy shenanigans that the title’s become infamous for. It’s already pretty provocative in terms of visuals and how it pushes the envelope on its fan-service element. Something the dub team were keen to embrace with all of the dialogue reflecting this tone.

Yet Tyson Rinehart was raked over the coals for what was suppose to be an edgy joke for the sake of it, not unlike a lot of Prison School’s humor. Bare in mind that it within was one scene in the seventh episode out of a twelve episode Anime. We don’t get any other references to Gamergate like Anita Sarkeesian or the like in any other scene of any other episode. It’s just... this.

Yet even now when the line was redubbed to remove the reference for the home release, you’d think that this one line is all the dub is. That it’s akin to Shin Chan or Ghost Stories where the dub team wrote their own story and made jokes out of every kind of current event controversy because that’s what gets the lulz. Yet, again, it was just one scene in one episodes out of the twelve.

Of course, the cycle seemed to begin again with Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid which had a more... small scale kerfuffle in regards to the titlular human character claiming that, “I’m not into women or dragons.” Ironically, Jamie Marchi claimed she wrote that line since something like, “But I’m a woman,” came across as homophobic to her. However, I wrote my piece on all that.

What really got the wider community all up in arms was in regards to the character of Quetzalcoatl AKA Lucoa, specifically a single scene where she and Tohru exchange dialogue for less than ten seconds at most over her more conservative attire. Lucoa is pretty much THE fanservice character with breasts big enough to nearly suffocate a little boy in his sleep. Yes, that did happened.

Lucoa explains her more conservative attire as feeling uncomfortable with everybody looking at her in her other revealing outfits with the official subtitles by both Crunchyroll and FUNimation at the time. The dub would take it a step further so to speak by having her claim that she changed clothes because of “pesky patriarchal standards” getting on her nerves, something a tad different.

Well, I say, “different,” in the sense of what she’s referring to in regards to why she changed her clothes. The sub has it come out to “everybody” in a general sense like men, women and children alike while “patriarchal” is more specific in referring a societal phenomenon. However, that’s not what fans got in a tizzy over. The word, “patriarchal,” is the real focal point for this scene’s controversy.

It’s not secret that this word is thrown around most Feminist circles to the ire of geeks who “just wanna have fun” and hearing this word alone set off all the alarms. Like with Prison School, FUNimation was accused of trying to push a political agenda using Anime as Lucoa’s line was spread across the community.

By now, I’d like to be frank in how this all feels overblown. Using a word that’s common in the Social Justice lexicon can stick out but the idea that it turns the dub into political propaganda never made sense to me. I mean, it’s one thing the entire scene was rewritten to recite some kind of feminist manifesto but it only mentions the “patriarchy” and... that’s about it for this one scene alone. :/

I’d bring up “My First Girlfriend’s A Gal” but I feel like the points I made with Prison School largely apply here. However, I feel like some fans are hypocritical in how they claim that the dub’s dialogue is “inaccurate” when most enjoyed the dub for how it nearly went full Ghost Stories. Many felt that the dub was spicing up an otherwise by-the-numbers Ecch Fest that people would’ve written off. :P

Yet along came Episode 7 and the usage of the words of “SJWs millenials” among others was enough to make the dub “propaganda” in the eyes of many. Despite the fact that the script does convey the spirit of the original with the cafe manager trying to get the female cast into reading smut to nerd without their consent. What does that matter when the dub uses terms like “cuck?” :/

What about the voice acting? Doesn’t matter. Anzy referred “Gamergate.” That’s all that matters about Prison School’s English dub now and forever.

How well does the dialogue hold up on the whole? Doesn’t matter. Lucoa mentioned the “patriarchy.” That’s all that Maid Dragon’s dub amounts to.

Is it enjoyable in any way aside from said foibles? Doesn’t matter. The mention of “SJW millennials” in that one scene has now tainted the dub. Oh, the shame.

Starting to get the picture? I don’t want to be the guy who says dubs should go off doing as they please with not consideration for what the original’s narrative was trying to convey. Even if the occasional liberty can be intriguing, it’s always better for an English dub to keep the story in line with their source material. I, of course, type this for those who actually approach any dub in good faith at all. :/

The problem comes when the examples described above are weaponized by those who never had good faith in dubs and/or had it out for the likes of FUNimation to begin with. It’s not about discussion. It’s about propping up their bias of dubs being trash at best and trying to falsely villainize a company for making mistakes that ultimately amount to a handful of off-sounding dialogue.

By all means, discuss how those like FUNimation could improve on things such as where their streaming services are available region by region. Discuss how dubs like Danganronpa and Phoenix Wright recast the characters from the VAs in the games. Discuss how good or bad their script writing can be when it leans more loosely. All this fearmongering and vitriol does nothing but poison the well.

But weren’t these choices in adaptation politically motivated? Hell no? There’s a different between humor made in fairly poor taste and trying to brainwash your audience into believing, what, that women have problems? It’s not propaganda when you recognize it right away. And while Tyson Rinehart and Jamie Marchi responded rather rudely to the backlash... can you blame them with all of this?

I say this not to “kiss up” to FUNimation. Much as I admire their script adaptation process like the nerdy nerd I am, there can be times where I do feel they might’ve missed the mark. Particularly with their earlier dubs of the Dragon Ball franchise where they were borderline 4kids. However, dubs such as Fairy Tail and My Hero Academia are modern examples of how far they have come.

This mentality of holding grudges over fairly small potatoes that personally offend you gets us nowhere. I mean... isn’t it like the stereotypes SJWs are known for. A piece of media does something offensive, however big or small, and is deemed problematic forever by purity crusaders. Can’t we take a joke? It honestly gets to the point where I kind of have to quote Anzu Yokoyama here:

“Do you have a stick up your ass or are your one of those Gamergate creepshows?”

[sparklyjojos]

CARNIVAL DAY recaps [7/13]

Today’s recap: The first few of many ‘character testimonies’, the obligatory Kodansha Editor Characters, and Dokuson’s confession.

[tw: suicide]

--

[BOOK V—CARNIVAL EVE]

--

FORTY

10 May 1997 — 16 May 1997

THE POLES

--

(And in the latest news report…)

On May 10th, satellite pictures show that a cylindrical hole 800 meters in diameter and 350 meters in depth has suddenly shown up at the South Pole, while a mass of frozen earth of that same shape and size has appeared at the North Pole, as if it was teleported. The Billion Killer’s skull is found in the frozen mass.

--

(Diana Hosey is the daughter of Theodore Hosey, the serial killer known as Deep Cut. After her father fled jail, she helped investigate his escape, and after many strange events was invited to the Sanctuary by RISE.

Below is Diana Hosey’s testimony.)

Diana didn’t expect to see her father under the mask of Yellow Bishop. He said he’d been living as RISE’s Dog for decades, their inn’s name Two-Headed Dog now sounding quite ironic. He was eventually chosen to become one of the Rainbow Sophists. While the rainbow had seven colors, there could be less than seven Sophists appointed at a time—though technically there were seven of them right now, as he and Tanna Sazen doubled as Yellow Bishop.

According to Theodore, a necessary requirement to be chosen as one of the Sophists was the ability to look and act like one of the S-detectives when masked. They also needed to be able to act out the corresponding S-detective’s reasoning method. Fabian as a lover of a cartel boss knew well how to use a fake identity to her advantage, sort of like Meiru. Tanna Sazen gathered information on Ajiro’s behavior through Maimu and was himself able to “intensely focus” as a bank clerk. Pacha Palermo just like Frau D could process large amounts of data at a time, although she was an interpreter of many languages rather than a statistician. Aleksandr Uryakov had a similarly mysterious and supernatural reasoning method as Zerofini Roi’s Zero Reasoning. Theodore Hosey personally knew Ronely Queen and used similar logical thinking.

Theodore talked about how his “world chaos theory” pertained to the Crime Olympics. (Diana doesn’t really understand the theory, but she knows it’s a bit like meteorology—forecasting future events from seemingly chaotic data). He said that the case Ronely Queen had solved at their inn had been just a test to see if she could pose a threat in the future. RISE decided that her determination could hurt their cause and so she had to disappear.

Ronely Queen and Ushiwaka Gigolo both died in the Statue of Liberty case while covering Diana. Then Diana and Kakuusan Kanke gathered (intentionally provided) clues about Theodore and went to the Earth House, from where Diana was taken to the Sanctuary. Everything according to the plan. Just like the world chaos theory predicted.

Diana felt furious and sad that her father would manipulate her and lead to her friends’ death. Theodore assured her that Ronely Queen had to die; if she survived, RISE’s plan would be eventually stopped, and as a result the Cosmic Bomb would destroy humanity.

The Cosmic Bomb in question can be also called “shinrui” (“God’s tear”) or a more straightforward name Lunatic Bomb, which makes it easy to guess what it really is.

At the end of the Crime Olympics, the Comic Bomb—the Earth’s own Moon—would fall and destroy the human race.

--

FORTY-ONE

17 May 1997 — 23 May 1997

CARNIVAL IN RIO

--

(Kirika Mai knew nothing about her origins. The strong desire to find her family made her a detective. Not given love, she was instead gifted with insight and logic. Many times she attempted to eliminate that uncertain and inexplicable being that was herself, but was saved by her desire to learn the truth before death; she feared that if she died without knowing anything about herself, her entire life would be worthless in hindsight. Giving up on eliminating herself caused her elimination reasoning method to blossom instead.

The only place that ever felt like home to her was JDC, but then it exploded, leaving her gravely injured. Her life partner Hazama Kuroo died in the Three Monkeys Case. JDC was taken over by a suspicious man called Yuiga Dokuson, and Kirika spent a lot of time investigating him, even visiting his parents in Hiroshima. They seemed like perfectly normal people and didn’t know much about their son’s life after he had graduated high-school. “He was born with a bitter smile,” they just said. Kirika tried to contact Dokuson’s school colleagues, but no one knew a lot about him either, though a lot of tales about his youth still circulated.

Below is Kirika Mai’s testimony.)

Whenever Kirika spoke to someone who knew Dokuson, including his own parents, it seemed to her like all those people were afraid of him, felt uneasy when talking about him, and generally preferred to regard him from afar. Perhaps that rumor about how Dokuson had talked someone into suicide in high-school had some basis. Kirika got the feeling that maybe it wasn’t just people’s fear that hindered the investigation, but that Dokuson had taken measures to hide his past.

Before Ushiwaka left for North America, she warned Kirika against digging too deep. Now that Ushiwaka died and Hyouma was missing, there was no one left who could tell her more about Dokuson—perhaps it was him who quietly eliminated uncomfortable witnesses.

Dokuson was simply too suspicious to ignore. People at JDC told stories about a woman in black (a secret lover? a ninja? a ghost?) who was sometimes heard talking with him in the office, but not many have seen her. Rumors claimed that it was the new detective using the D-name Manji Tawawa, who was about as self-conceited and devilishly beautiful as Dokuson, wore rich pink dresses, and had a bunch of jewelry all in the shape of her D-name. [Manji is written 卍, which is not exactly That symbol, but it’s still about as subtle as a sledgehammer, which is probably why everyone in JDC is calling her Lady Hitler]. JDC quickly split into two cliques based on which local narcissist they preferred, and some wanted Tawawa to become the new representative.

While investigating Tawawa, Kirika found a private detective called Tanegashima Cafe. Her reasoning method was called “happou vision”, happou refering to both “all directions” and “shooting”, as she was firing all her ideas in rapid succession. Tanegashima Cafe had apparently been working together with Kirika when they were both private detectives (which Kirika couldn’t quite remember, as the JDC explosion left her with partial memory loss). She had two young children and often took them to Kyoto’s park Tsukigime, a popular spot for parents and kids. When hanging around there, Kirika was surprised to meet families of JDC detectives.

There was Mizuno Reito (father of Christmas Mizuno), who took care of the household while his wife Chiyoko worked, and often went to the park with his young daughter JDC [yes, that is her first name]. In a funny coincidence, “Chiyoko” and “Reito” together sounded like “chocolate”, and they were born on respectively February 14th and March 14th, which together earned them the nicknames “Valentine Mizuno” and “White Day Mizuno”. [So basically, we have the family of Valentine, White Day, Pyramid, Christmas, and JDC Mizuno. Dear God.]

Another family group in the park were Shiranui Zenzou’s daughter and granddaughter, named Zenzouko and Zenzounene [effectively “Zenzou-kid” and “Zenzou-kid-kid”]. They were given these names to respect the dying wish of Shiranui’s father Taizen to pass his name on in some form. Both also inherited reasoning methods somewhat similar to Zenzou’s own.

Kirika learned about a very lively detective “lady network” made of all those women who constantly sit and talk in parks and always seem to know everything. It turned out they even knew about Tawawa and Dokuson, and told Kirika a bit more. Dokuson apparently was getting his secret info through the ninja detective Sarutobi Shinobu, while Tawawa would buy data from Tanegashima. It was their ability to gather secret data that made them seem geniuses of reasoning.

Realizing that the “lady network” really knew everything, Kirika asked about herself—and finally got the answer.

But now that she solved the mystery of her life, the pressure to eliminate herself returned.

[...and at the end of this testimony that turns out to have been a letter all along, for no obvious reasons there are a few mentions of “Georgia” at the end.]

--

(And in the latest news report…)

On May 17th, during an important soccer match in Maracanã Stadium in Rio de Janeiro, the ball suddenly explodes. No one is hurt, but the match is suspended, agitating the fans and causing an outburst of hooliganism that kills close to a hundred people. The Billion Killer's skull is found in a ditch by the sports grounds.

Earlier that year, an incident of mass suicide took place during the Carnival in Rio de Janeiro. Investigation found a worldwide suicide cult calling themselves Carnival Dice (or just DICE). It has been confirmed that JDC's Kirika Mai, who disappeared leaving only a suicide note, had been in contact with DICE. JDC announced they would search for Kirika and attempt to stop the cult.

--

FORTY-TWO

24 May 1997 — 30 May 1997

AYERS ROCK

--

XX would never guess he’d become a JDC detective so quickly, but it wasn’t that hard with the entrance exam abolished. XX’s job interview was led by a detective nicknamed Cappuccino Knob Suzuki (actually Suzuki Nobuyuki), who had previously worked as a Kodansha editor and even took part in publishing Cosmic and Joker. [Suzuki Nobuyuki is an actual Kodansha employee.]

Ever since the Crime Olympics began, a lot of “description detectives” or “writer detectives” started to pour in, their reasoning based on describing an incident as a book narration. Since every writer needs a good editor, that’s how “editor detective” Suzuki got his new job overseeing MAT (“Mystery Attack Team”). There are also “reader detectives” responsible for careful analysis of the stories.

In the world where new mysteries and incidents constantly surround everyone, more people than usual start to awaken their detective instincts. People have a need to solve mysteries. They also need to make stories; living in itself is writing a story about themselves.

--

(And in the latest news…)

...on May 24th, an earthquake caused Uluru / Ayers Rock in Australia to split, a part of it breaking off and killing a few tourists. The Billion Killer’s skull fell out of the newly made crevice during the earthquake.

...the JDC representative Yuiga Dokuson disappeared on June 6th, incidentally the day of his 27th birthday. In his office he had left a video tape with a confession:

“To tell you the truth, the Billion Killer is me. For various reasons I have been causing all the incidents until now, but there’s no further need for them. The Billion Killer cases end today. Humanity, rejoice.”

--

FORTY-THREE

31 May 1997 — 06 Jun 1997

CRYSTAL MOUNTAIN

--

(Below is Inugami Yasha’s testimony. [Originally in first person.])

If only Yasha had paid more attention to his surroundings, maybe the tragedy wouldn’t have happened. But it’s too late for regrets; the past can’t be undone.

At that time, Sayo was away from Gensoukan. When Yasha went outside to search for Kanaihidetaka, a person put a blade to his neck from behind, drawing blood, and ordered him to stay quiet in a muffled voice. Yasha wasn’t able to tell the stranger’s gender or age from the voice. When Juku opened the door to go outside, the assassin pushed Yasha away and charged, but Juku managed to jump away. The assassin wore silver clothes and a bull mask. Juku asked the enemy if they were Tsukumo Jaki / Yakuma Suzume, but was ignored. The assassin instead leapt at Juku, piercing his chest with a sword and forcing him to the ground.

Something unexpected happened right afterwards. When the assassin raised the sword again to deliver the final blow, they suddenly stopped moving, and Yasha heard their muffled voice saying something like “Godust… Alive… sh…”. The sword fell from their grasp and they collapsed on top of Juku, both the attacker and the victim now completely still on the ground.

Yasha couldn’t move both from shock and from blood loss, but thankfully Sayo returned right at that moment. Yasha heard her yell right before he lost consciousness. When he woke up in a hospital bed, he was told that Sayo had called an ambulance, but the help came too late and Juku passed away.

When the ambulance got to the scene, Sayo, Kanaihidetaka, and even Gensoukan were no longer there and couldn’t be found later, as if they had never existed.

The masked assassin was discovered to be not Yakuma Suzume, but the writer Minase Nagisa (real name Tamei Madoka). She had apparently died of Alive with strangely perfect timing just before she could deliver the final blow.

Yasha realized what Jaki had meant warning them about “sankaku, shikaku, maru”. It didn’t mean “triangle, square, circle”. Sankaku could mean someone taking part in a plan. Shikaku was an assassin. Tamei Madoka’s first name was written 円, this kanji having an alternate reading of maru.

After Juku’s death, Yasha became Dokuson’s helper as JDC’s first vice-representative. This unexpectedly led to him becoming the actual representative after Dokuson left his confession and fled. Leading JDC wasn’t in Yasha’s plans at all, but he decided to help everyone as he could.

[End of testimony.]

--

The writer detective XX stumbles upon files about “the phantom case of the Seppuku Detective”, which was solved by Suzukaze Unomaru.

Once upon a time, a woman wandered into a forest known for suicides and found a house called Gensoukan, where she met two men. One was the seppuku detective, another was a genius surgeon dressed in white. The detective would repeatedly attempt seppuku—the state between life and death sharpening his reasoning—and the surgeon would then piece him back together.

The woman got into a romantic triangle with both men. However, one night the detective actually killed himself in secret, and the other two fell apart and went their own ways away from Gensoukan. When the woman returned to the forest later, the house was no longer there.

The woman asked JDC to help her find the house and the surgeon. The tale was clearly absurd, but Unomaru wanted to check if it had any basis in reality.

The woman indeed had been in a triangle relationship with two brothers, but then the older one (Endou Naoto) disappeared, and the abandoned pair split. The woman attempted to contact the younger brother (Endou Masato) a few years later, but found that he had mysteriously fled. This entire “Gensoukan” must have been just a metaphor for lost love and happiness.

While the case was technically solved, XX thinks there has to be more to it, especially since the recent case of Juku’s murder also involved a disappearing Gensoukan. Additionally, that short story Another Joker was set in Gensoukan, and its alleged author was the brother of the masked assassin.

XX asks Yasha for a testimony about everything that happened [the one we just read]. He learns about “Seiryoin Ryusui” being the suspected “third writer”, about the Yakuma Suzume hypothesis, and about the two Endou brothers. Everything is starting to come together.

--

FORTY-FOUR

07 Jun 1997 — 13 Jun 1997

NUCLEAR WEAPON TEST

--

(And in the news…)

...On May 31st, a giant fire broke out on Mount Roraima in South America and had been raging on for a week. The Billion Killer’s skull was found in an extinguished part of the slope.

...the investigation of Mount Roraima revealed the existence of a group called F4C (Fire 4 Card), also suspected of bombing buildings and setting fires during the Crystal Nightmare. The name comes from the group always leaving four playing cards the size of an adult on the crime scene, always the four different colors of the same number, starting from twos during the Crystal Nightmare, up to aces on Mount Roraima. As the usual skull was found in the Mount Roraima fire, it points to the group’s possible connection with the Billion Killer.

...tensions between India and Pakistan heightened with both countries announcing multiple underground nuclear tests.

--

The writer detective XX decides to try solving the “seppuku detective’s phantom case” by writing about it.

Books about real cases sell unusually well in the new society of the Crime Olympics. Way back in February, Kodansha even sent over their editor called Katsushi Outa to scout for good stories from the writer detectives. [The real Kodansha editor Katsushi Outa just had to appear eventually, didn’t he.] He later became an editor detective with the D-name Strong J Outa.

The (by that time) vice-representative Yasha asked XX and Outa a strange favor: to start writing and publishing more books under the pen name Seiryoin Ryusui, as that would somehow help end the Crime Olympics.

--

[>>>NEXT PART>>>]

[aparecium-hq]

Welcome to Aparecium, Wes! You have been accepted for Albus Potter with your planned faceclaim. We love the way you’ve crafted Albus to go against the grain of the rest of his family, and personally I loved your writing sample in particular. We can’t wait to see him around! Check out the new member checklist, and jump right in. 

Character Basics

               Age: 21 years old

               Birthdate: 15 March 2006

               Pronouns: He/Him

               Sexuality: Homosexual, homoromantic

               Blood Status: Halfblood

               Hogwarts House:  Slytherin

               Occupation: Lawclerk for the Wizengamot,

                             apprentice barrister.

               Faceclaim: Chance Perdomo

Any requested changes: Not really?  I took some liberties with the evolution in the Ministry and the apprenticeship for becoming a lawyer.  I figured it would be something of a long process with a lot of work in the guild system rather than going off to law school?  But I’m most interested to know if we need to tweak anything.

Biography:

The middle Potter, the second son of a hero, Albus Potter has lived a certain amount of his life in the public eye.  He’s always been conscious of attention, desiring it less and less as he grew older.  He finds respite in close acquaintances and good friends, small settings and familiar environments.  His family, though sometimes the very people he’s clashing with, are always his first source of solace and comfort.  Whatever tensions they might have, they’re his people.  And woe be told to anyone who crosses the line in his presence.

From a young age, Albus showed a taciturn bent and found himself at his Aunt Hermione’s side with frequency.  Books and stories became his companions as much as his brother.  And sometimes to better effect.  He devoured literature, asked his aunt and parents for lessons and primers, and had a raging row over the fact that other children could go to primary school.  He saw Hogwarts and education as the next great challenge, the next great adventure.  He saw it as where he truly belonged.

How wonderfully cruel that reality can be.

Hogwarts wasn’t the worst thing really.  It was a learning experience to be sure, in more than just the academics.  Sorted into Slytherin and falling into a different vein than his brother and father, he acquired more than a little gossip.  But Albus had been backed into an unfamiliar corner before, so he did what came naturally.  His tongue lashed, far faster than his wand ever could, and he caught trouble with it.  A black eye and a split lip were his reward, but the third year Gryffindor was on the ground and his opinion amongst his housemates was settled: he was a snake, through and through.

He learned quickly, taking in whatever he could from his housemates and classes.  He learned that his reserved nature was a gap people had to cross, that the masks he used out of indifference our out of annoyance with the press were tools at his disposal, he learned that his words were not just barbs, but arrows.  By his third year, he changed tones and temperaments like cloaks, dressing up for some and down for others.  He developed a knack for patterns that spread naturally to arithmancy while his ability to think on his feet endeared him to charms all the more.  They became his best subjects, followed rather quickly by history of magic.  Though that one?  That was a practiced study.  Especially after the Madley Properies came about.

The change of the world while he was at Hogwarts was sudden.  The access to more technology meant access to more information.  Muggle information.  Albus devoured it all, spending hours cross referencing magical history with muggle timelines, building comprehensive understanding of events and their influence on either side of the Statute of Secrecy.  How the pollical actions in the muggle world influenced the economic realities of the magically community, or how a magical malady could seep over into the muggle world and insight chaos because of the tiniest bit of other.  He learned that things were far more interconnected than most people thought.

And he realized how absolutely how absolutely mad changing anything quickly was.

He graduated with respectable marks in his favored disciplines, with his only truly problematic grade coming in Defense.  But he wasn’t looking to join his father in the Aurors.  But he had his eyes on the DMLE.  Eventually.  But first, well he needed information.  His classes were dreadfully sparse on the machinations that drove their society, and that’s what he needed to understand.  He’d never had to fake an interest in his Aunt Hermione’s work, and the right words had him there, running paper and writing briefs and other monotonous work in the danker parts of the Ministy.  But he was there.  That was the important part.  And it paid off, when two years later, the Wizengamot took advantage of his skills and put him to work as a clerk.

Now at twenty-one, Albus has become something of a fixture in the research apparatus of the magical government of England.  His pattern recall and gift for memorization has made him the place where most research inquiries start: ask Potter, he’ll point you where to start.  His analytical mind lends itself to complicated cross application of policy and precedent, and while he doesn’t have the bombastic personality of some clerks or barristers before the high wizarding court, his ability to shift gears and pull references makes him an adept ally in cross examination and questioning.

Sociability:

When he’s not picking at threads in the legal archives or catching up on muggle current events, he tries to still be there for his family and friends.  He tries to keep a social life, between work friends and his large family and the people that give him actual solace in life, he likes to think he keeps a full social calendar.  For Scorpius, his best friend and his roommate, he would literally drop the world to ash if it needed.  And he…tries not to dwell exactly on that why too close.  Somethings don’t withstand scrutiny after all.  He misses the closeness he once had with his siblings, long before Hogwarts and Madley, when things were simpler.  He does boast a large network of acquaintances that he knows only by their handle.  He took to internet culture a bit too well, making friends and associates that he only knows by online handles and pseudonyms.  Some have made the leap to personal acquaintances, especially the collection of muggles that helped him come to grips with his own burgeoning sexuality at Hogwarts, that took him to his first Pride.  He owes them quite a lot, even if they’re kept at arm’s length.

Personality:

Albus still resembles that inquisitive child he was, somewhat quieter and more reserved than his family and always searching for some new bit of information.  He’s lost some of the taciturn qualities however, finding his voice through reasoned arguments and biting wit.  He’s not afraid to speak his mind, but does try to find the path of least offense unless his ultimate goal is to cause offense and put someone on the back foot.  He wears his opinions and language like masks, speaking openly but not always directly.  It’s those that know him best, Scorpius and Rose and his closest family, that see the true Albus.  He’s a stack of books on a rainy Saturday morning, the smell of coffee and old leather in the air.  He’s a passionate debate over dry martinis, the smell of cigarette smoke mingling with gin and the buzz of conversation.  He’s warm cashmere and soft jazz while something bubbles on the stove top.  He’s good friends and late nights, fairy lights low and spirts high and flowing freely.

Appearance:

Much like he appropriated language and history from his housemates, he also picked up on their habits of dress.  Fine robes and well cut wizarding garb are key to his image at the Wizengamot.  But these days, he finds himself draping a cloak over well cut Savile Row suits in greys and blacks with stylishly bright ties in greens or violets.  Waistcoats with patterns shirts and small lapel pins that sing his causes: rainbows, circuits that spark magically, something called an x-wing.  Blazers and jeans with Doc Martens or stylish boots when he slips into muggle London for a drink or a date..  Jeans and hoodies and warm woolen jumpers round out his casual clothes.  He’s looked longingly at some jewelry the muggle university students have, all manner of piercing and decoration of ink on skin, but he’s yet to give into those temptations as they endanger the masks he needs a little too much.

Character Questionnaire (In Character):

What does your character value in a friendship?

Is it cheating to say discretion?  No?  Then that simply must be the answer.  When one grows up with a certain amount of notoriety… a name that is recognizable and splashed across the press of the realm near daily… a friend who knows when to bluff, when to keep things private is worth their weight in gold.  Quite literally.    And there is so much caught up in that word as well.  Discretion.  It’s not just secrecy.  It’s trust.  And with that I believe truly, there must be some level of affection there.  A warmth and familiarity that breed such a level of trust.  There are people for whom I have great affection, and even great trust, but for who I don’t believe are discrete.  It’s that bit extra, that pinch more wit and courage and resolve that make it the better value.

How would a stranger who has just met your character describe them?

Oh Circe, this is such a loaded question.  A stranger?  Well it really depends upon the circumstances you know.  Where are we?  Drinks is very different than a fundraiser than a friendly pick up game of Quidditch.  Though why I made mention of the last, I really haven’t a clue.  But the point remans; where did we meet?  I’d like to think that I leave people at least somewhat assured that I know what I’m talking about, even if that does mean I come off as a bit of an ass.  And as cold as it may sound, so much of this might come down to how I want them to remember me.  It changes the way one approaches a stranger, if they think it’s only for a moment or there’s something more there.  Whatever that more might be.  Well at the very least, it means I try not to burn bridges I’ve only just encountered.

What magical skill or talent is your character most proud of?

Can we consider memory a skill?  A talent?  I’m not sure it’s honed like a blade or conditioned like a muscle.  But I do think I’m very good at it.  Or with it.  Memorizing.  Recalling.  Things just sort of…stick up there.  Referenced and catalogued.  A font of utterly useless information.  But information that can be applied, brought forward when needed to dramatic effect or for some nefarious purpose.  Dreadfully useful, in work and in life.  I don’t forget birthdays.  Though I do sometimes forget to shop for them…so it’s rather an imperfect skill.  Talent.  Part of me, whatever.  

Para Sample

Albus tapped a finger against the stem of his glass slowly, letting the small sound of his nail making contact mark the time.  He’d been watching for the past half hour as patrons moved in and out of the space.  Fresh drinks, greetings, calls to join a group.  It was the happiest of hours and this particular bar was just getting started.

Then again, so was he.

It wasn’t a usual of his, though he found the ambiance quite charming.  Dark wood, shiny brass, and a Botanist martini that was so dry it could be a disaster area.  Start of a good evening.  And it put him on good footing for the chap that he was expecting.  A friend of a friend, a you-should-meet-him sort of person that did…something functionally important in Westminster.  No doubt it would be a topic of some conversation later into the evening.  Best to know enough going in to be interested, but not too much so as to be bored.  Rather like any project, dating was.

Merlin, Scor would chastise him for being so cynical and dry about it all.  He smirked into his glass.

The man that approached a bit before their appointed rendezvous was fit.  Albus raked eyes over the man, taking in the cut of his suit, the fit of his trousers, the twist of his laces.  Cambridge man.  He’d bet money on it.  Eaton too.  He saw a few coy grins flashed at other patrons, a crisp note slipped discreetly to the bartender, a lean up the rail to whisper across the bar.   Albus let his smirk grow as he finished his drink, slipping away to duck into the gents.

He dispelled the subtle notice-me-not once he was in a stall, wafting away the bits that kept him mostly undisturbed.  There was a lot you could see at happy hour after all.  People drinking too quickly, nerves when a joke failed to land, thousand-yard stares into pint glasses.  Frivolity as a mask.  Jocularity as a balm.  He checked his reflection, gave an artful tousle of his hair and straightened his tie, and slipped out with a beatific smile that never met his eyes.

Those?  He liked sharp.

[eryiss]

Fraxus Week Day 6: Sweet Treats

Summary: After a fire takes place at the girls dorm, Wendy finds herself sleeping in a guildmates house until something more permanent can be organised. After waking up to Laxus entering the unfamiliar house, the young woman finds something new about her guildmates and shares a midnight snack with the unfamiliar dragon slayer.

This is my sixth admission for Fraxus Week event for twenty-nineteen hosted by the tumbler user @fuckyeahfraxus. This one is a nice and fluffy, as well as including a nice BroTP moment between Laxus and Wendy. It's based off the prompt 'Sweet Treat.'

You can read it on Fanfiction, Archive of our Own, or under the cut. I hope you all enjoy it!

Day 6: Feast of The Dragons

The sound of a hinge creaking was what woke her up.

Wendy had been asleep in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar house; Freed's house to be specific. There had been something of an incident in the Girl's Dorm building, making half of the rooms uninhabitable and putting the structural integrity of the building in question, meaning that almost all of the female members of Fairy Tail were now essentially homeless until the rooms could be fixed. These members of the guild had been placed with in their fellow guildmember's houses where possible, explaining why Wendy found herself in Freed's home.

She looked towards Erza's sleeping form in the large bed they were sharing – the older woman had also been placed with Freed's home, Wendy expected it was because she didn't feel lonely as she didn't know her host overly well – to see she apparently hadn't heard the sound that had woken Wendy up. The sky-mage didn't try to wake her, knowing that it was practically impossible.

Carefully opening the bedroom door and hoping it wouldn't creak, Wendy made her way to the upstairs hallway of Freed's relatively small cottage. To her left was the staircase, and to her right was the bathroom; Freed was sleeping on the sofa downstairs having given his bed up for the two guests.

She felt bad about that, but Freed had insisted.

Perhaps that was what all the noise had been, Freed moving downstairs. It was their first night after all, so she couldn't be sure as to when Freed would retire for the night. Maybe he was just moving around his house, and Wendy was just on edge because she hadn't been there before and wasn't yet comfortable with the location. It was possible.

Despite what she told herself, she continued to walk. Carefully so that she didn't make too much noise, she walked towards the staircase. She didn't go down it, instead peaking her head around the corner so she could overlook the front door to the cottage.

She wasn't scared, which sounded untrue given her caution, but she really wasn't. She was a strong mage herself and had more than held her own in a fight, and she was in the same house as Erza Scarlet, an S-Class mage! She also knew that Freed was a powerful mage, even if she hadn't seen him fighting seriously before. All in all, there was a lot of powerful mages in the building at that very moment and all of them knew how to look after themselves, so if there was any kind of house invader who had been responsible for waking her up, they would be the one in trouble, rather than her.

Still, as she saw a cloaked figure that didn't seem to be Freed standing at the door, she panicked a little.

The cloak was a dark brown colour, seemingly made darker by the rain that Wendy had heard against the windows. Whoever it was, they didn't exactly seem like the normal house invader; they weren't looking through Freed's things for anything valuable, instead they just… took their shoes off. The person was being weird, maybe it would be best to wake Erza up?

Just as the dragon slayer made up her mind to wake her friend, the cloak was removed from their figure. The invader was a large man with blonde hair, and Wendy's concern immediately turned into confusion.

"Laxus?" She questioned aloud before she could stop herself.

Any doubt she had about who the blonde was died a moment later. At the mention of his name, Laxus' head shot up towards the top of the stairs and stared at the young woman standing there; his distinctive features on full display with the lamp he had turned on. There was a moment of silence between the two mages, both trying to understand what was happening.

"Wendy?" Laxus was the one who broke the silence, taking a step towards the stairs. "Why are you here?"

It took Wendy a few seconds to realise why Laxus wouldn't know about what had happened with the dorm room. The blonde had taken a mission a few weeks ago – something difficult if Mirajane was to be believed – and hadnt returned to the guild since. He must have just gotten back. But why would he be here?

"There was a fire at the dorm building, we can't stay there for a while. Me and Erza are staying here until we can find a hotel that'll take us for a while," She explained, still frowning. She walked out from behind the wall she had been hiding behind. "Why are you here?"

"I live here," Laxus said slowly, in a slightly deadpan way.

"I thought this was Freed's house?" Wendy frowned a little further, watching as Laxus hung the cloak on a coat hook beside the door.

"We live together," Laxus explained.

Wendy nodded slightly, though frowned again. The cottage, though not exactly small, only had a single bedroom. She doubted that either Freed nor Laxus would be willing to sleep on a sofa indefinitely and knew from seeing the job offers S-Class mages that Laxus didn't need to rely on anyone financially, so it seemed like a weird decision for the two of them if it was true. Laxus, after running a hand through his damp hair, saw the look of confusion on the sky-mage's face; nobody had told her the nature of he and Freed's relationship it seemed.

"We're dating, kid," He explained, and Wendy's eyes widened slightly.

"Oh. Oh!" She smiled at Laxus; now it certainly made sense why they lived together, as well as why he was coming here. It was to see his boyfriend. "Sorry, if I had known I wouldn't have asked. I didn't mean to pry on you."

"Don't worry about it," Laxus placated, he nodded to the door to the living room. "Guessing he's sleeping in there then, right?"

"Yes, he insisted," Wendy smiled a little, before stopping. "If you want, I can wake Erza up and you can have your bed back. I'm sure she won't mind sleeping on the sofa and I could probably fit on the chair without much trouble. You probably want a good night's sleep after you've been away for so long."

"Nah, don't worry about it. Had a pretty fancy hotel actually," He lied; he'd been sleeping in a tent for the past few weeks, but he could last a little while longer. "Shit, it's pretty late. I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"You don't need to think about that," Wendy assured him. "I'm a light sleeper, so it happens all the time."

Laxus nodded and made to walk towards the living room where he would sleep for the night, but stopped himself. Wendy, who had walked to the bottom of the stairs during their conversation so that neither would have to speak loudly enough to wake anyone up, was starting to walk back to the bedroom to go back to bed. The blonde coughed slightly to get her attention, seeing her turn to look down at him with some confusion.

"You wanna drink of hot chocolate or something?" He offered, shrugging. "It'll help you get back to sleep."

"Are you sure?" Wendy asked, the offer unexpected.

After Laxus had nodded in confirmation, Wendy carefully climbed down the staircase again trying to make as a little noise as possible. The blonde waited for the younger mage to get to the bottom of the stairs before walking into the living room and flicking on one of the lamps; he had to walk through the room to get to their kitchen.

As he passed the sofa, he saw that Freed was sleeping soundly with a slightly tattered blanket covering him and an old pillow under his head. His chest was lifting gently and his features soft and calm. Laxus softly placed a hand on the man's cheek in a small act of intimacy as he passed.

Wendy wasn't sure if she was meant to see that, so she didn't say anything and just smiled.

The two dragon slayers soon were in the kitchen together, Laxus immediately pulling a pot from above the cooktop and filling it with enough milk for the two of them; he might as well have some himself to help get to sleep. As he rooted through the pantry to find the can of cocoa powder that would soon be needed, he could feel Wendy's eyes on him from the kitchen table she was sitting at. He didn't say anything, allowing the young woman to look as she pleased.

To see Laxus in this situation was weird for the sky-mage. She usually either saw him in combat or in the bar, so to watch him in a moment that could only be described as domestic, just after seeing him being tender with his boyfriend no less, was indescribable. But it was a good look on the man, even if it didn't fit with his image.

As the milk started to heat up, Laxus began to pour in the cocoa powder. Wendy was still looking at him, and Laxus assumed that this was because she wanted to know more about his and Freed's relationship. He couldn't blame her; it was a lot to process at three in the morning.

"You can ask," He spoke, stirring the milk. "About me and Freed, if you want."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, we ain't exactly in the closet or anything, and quite a few people know about it. We just couldn't be bothered with all the hassle of officially coming out and telling people we're together, so we didn't," Laxus looked over his shoulder as he spoke. "So anything you're curious about, just ask."

Wendy frowned, thinking of what she should ask. She of course had questions but didn't want to take liberties as to how invasive she could be; Laxus and Freed had always seemed to be private people and she didn't want to push her luck. As she thought, Laxus glanced at her with a soft smile as he continued to make the hot chocolate for them both. He yawned slightly as the sweet scent filled the room, absently wondering if the chocolatey aroma was having as much an effect on the young girl as it had on him, given their shared enhanced senses.

When he had come home, Laxus had been looking forward to climbing into bed with his boyfriend and getting a good night's sleep. But honestly, Wendy wasn't bad company – certainly the least annoying of the Dragon Slayers – and he had no place to complain when half of his guildmates had effectively lost their home. It was only right to be kind to them.

"So," Wendy spoke after a few moments, and Laxus hummed to let her know he was listening. "Have you and Freed been dating for a long time?"

"Coming up on a year pretty soon," Laxus answered, looking down on the pot of warming hot chocolate with a small but fond smile on his face. "We moved in together about two months ago though, so the house is pretty new. Well, for me it's new. It was Freed's place before I came."

Moving in with Freed had been a pretty pig deal for Laxus. While his previous studio apartment had been nothing to boast about, and objectively Freed's house was an undeniable improvement, Laxus had initially been somewhat concerned. A small voice was telling him that moving in with his boyfriend meant surrendering a small part of himself; a stupid idea that had come about because of the fact he'd never dated anyone for that long, and he now felt ridiculous for thinking like that. But the day he'd moved in with Freed, it was symbolic, and showed how he was allowing himself to become more vulnerable with other people.

He looked back on that day with fondness. Though cliché, it felt like the first day of the rest of his life.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you start dating?" Wendy asked, feeling encouraged by the expression Laxus wasn't hiding. It honestly made Wendy feel more comfortable around the blonde, seeing him like this.

"It was after I got exiled," Laxus explained. "I was trying to get better dealing with emotions, and for a while I'd been telling myself I didn't have feelings for him. So after I got my head straight and started to make up for all the shit I pulled when I was younger, me and Freed had a talk. We agreed that, when we were both in the right place for it, we'd see if we could handle going on a date with each other and see what happened next. Guess it's pretty obvious that it went well."

Wendy nodded, but didn't say anything. She hadnt been around when Laxus had been evicted from the guild, and had only really heard stories about it. Freed had given her the most detail actually, as she had asked who Laxus was when she and Freed first went on a mission together. It had shocked her to hear what had happened, both about Laxus' actions as well as the Raijinshuu's.

If the stories about what Laxus used to be like were true, then it was obvious that Laxus' attempt to 'get his head straight' had worked well. Though he wasn't exactly the king of humility, he wasn't as arrogant and self-obsessed as the stories would suggest and he certainly seemed more emotional than she would have expected. Perhaps this was a good example of why Fairy Tail's forgiving nature was so important, as people really could grow from what they had been and become better people if they're given the chance.

But still, as much as she wanted to know about how Laxus had changed over the years after his exile from the guild, there was something else playing on her mind. And it was something that she hadnt been given the chance to ask before.

"How… how do you know if you're," She cut herself off for a moment. "If you like people who are the same as you?"

Laxus paused in his stirring, becoming slightly more rigid. This was something he'd only been asked a few times, and he usually responded by saying 'when you think about fucking someone with a cock it becomes pretty clear' or something to that affect, because previously it had only been asked by idiots rather than someone who seemed like they wanted to know. Even though he didn't know Wendy personally, he knew the tone of voice all too well and knew what it meant.

He put the heating milk on a low simmer and sat on the opposite side of the table to Wendy, so he could give the young woman all of his attention. She seemed a little nervous at his actions, so he hoped that his words would calm her.

"There's no one way of knowing. For some people, it might take a while, and you'll notice things about people your gender that you like. But for other people, it can become instant. They'll be a person who just is everything you never you knew wanted, and it'll hit you like a train," Laxus smiled a little.

Somehow, both things had happened with he and Freed. As a teenager, after entering puberty he started to see things that he liked. When he saw a woman, he could identify that they were attractive, but he never quite got the appeal. But sometimes he'd look at a guy and there would be one part of them that was just so hypnotic in a way that he didn't understand; this ranged from a particularly amazing voice to seeing an undeniably handsome face. It took him a while to fully understand what this meant – he wasn't admiring them because he wanted to be like them, that was for sure – and the moment he did realise what it meant, he went into complete denial. The denial was his father's influence, he had no doubt about that.

But just as it had been gradual, his sexuality had also hit him like a train. It had been on Tenrou island, when he saw Freed for the first time in months. Just one look at the slightly ragged but still composed man and Laxus was unable to deny himself anymore. Freed, a man, was perfection personified and Laxus was in love with him.

It wasn't just his looks, of course. Laxus didn't think Freed looked perfect because of he looked good, but because he looked like Freed. He looked so much like Freed. It was if his mind had shifted, and perfect was a word that now only applied to Freed, and nobody else could compete. He didn't know how to explain it any better than that.

"Thank you," Wendy smiled a little, though still seemed lost in her own thought.

"You know kid, if someone had this conversation with me when I was your age, I know what I'd wanna hear," Laxus continued. "I would have wanted to hear that, if I ever do find myself liking guys, the worst thing to do is to deny it. Because, speaking from experience, it can really fuck you up."

"Thanks," Wendy said again, and this time it seemed more genuine.

Laxus patted her on the shoulder as he passed, stepping back to the oven top and hoping that he could have helped her. She clearly didn't want any pressing – if she was thinking about girls that way, it was new and private – but he hoped that she wouldn't make the same mistake that he had in the past. It had been one of his worst regrets; one of many, unfortunately.

The blonde quickly started to stir the newly made hot chocolate – which was very nearly at the point where they could drink it – and let the young girl think for a little while. Often in Fairy Tail, people forgot that others needed time to think about what they were going to do next, as the fights they found themselves in needed a lot of instinctual actions. But this wasn't a fight, and if Wendy wanted to sit in silence for the rest of the night, then Laxus could think of worse things to do than sit with her while she did it.

Carefully, the blonde brought the liquid from the heated cooktop and rested it on a chopping board he hoped wouldn't be singed. He then made his way around the kitchen, opening a cupboard and pulling out two large mugs. He placed them beside the pot of hot chocolate and slowly began to pour out the two drinks.

After placing the two mugs on the table, he didn't immediately sit down, making Wendy watch him with slight curiosity. Instead, he walked to the large fridge and picked out what was revealed to be a large can of whipped cream. Still not finished, he then walked back to the pantry that he had gotten the cocoa powder from and rummaged around it for a few moments, before returning with a plastic bag filled with something that Wendy couldn't see, and a small glass shaker that looked similar to those that you would keep salt in. When he placed them on the table, she saw that they were a bag of marshmallows and a small pot of chocolate curls.

Not exactly what she had expected to be in Freed and Laxus' house.

"Thought that, if we're gonna do this, might as well do it right," Laxus said in explanation. He picked up the whipped cream and slowly squirted it on his own drink in a slightly messy spiral. "Help yourself."

Wendy did so, also starting with the shipped cream. Her spiral was neater than Laxus'.

"I didn't know you and Freed liked sweets so much," She commented, picking up a single marshmallow and placing it on the whipped cream covered drink.

"We don't really, but Bickslow does and he comes here all the time, so we have to stock up on things for him to eat," Laxus shrugged, placing two marshmallows into his drinks and sprinkling the chocolate curls atop the whipped cream. "You can have more than one, if you want."

With a small smile, Wendy brought the bag of marshmallows closer and placed two more in her drink, watching as they slightly lost their shape with the heat and melded with the cold cream. She brought the drink to her lips and slowly sipped at it; the temperature was almost perfect and the taste amazing. She smiled, watching as Laxus also took a sip of his drink on the other side of the table; she tried not to laugh at the small amount of whipped cream on the top lip of the other mage before he removed it with the back of his hand.

The two stayed at the kitchen table for a little while longer, a gentle conversation happening relatively naturally between them both. Around halfway through, Laxus decided that he was hungry and brought out a box of flapjacks that Freed had made and offered Wendy one, which she took with a thankful smile.

After around twenty minutes, wherein Wendy had drunk two full mugs of the hot chocolate and eaten one of Freed's delicious flapjacks, the young girl was finding it difficult to fight off the yawns that were trying to leave her. Laxus seemingly noticed this, so placed the lid on the box of flapjacks and began to put the whipped cream, marshmallows and chocolate curls back where he got them. Wendy smiled at the blonde; there was every chance she would have continued to stay awake out of politeness if Laxus hadnt made the first move in going to bed.

"Thanks, Laxus," She said in a soft voice as she stood up from the kitchen table. "It was nice talking to you."

"Don't mention it," Laxus brushed her thanks off, ever so slightly blushing. "Especially to the idiots you're on a team with. Don't wanna have to fuck 'em up for thinking that I was being soft or whatever."

She couldn't be sure, but Wendy liked to think that Laxus was joking.

"I'll try not to," Wendy laughed a little, before yawning again. "Goodnight, Laxus."

"Night kid."

Laxus watched as Wendy left the kitchen, carefully walking through the living room before closing the door and assumedly walking up the stairs to where Erza was sleeping. He had a small smile on his face as he placed the now empty pot in the kitchen sink, deciding that he would clean up tomorrow morning; even if technically it was the morning anyway. He switched the light off and walked into the living room.

He knew that he couldn't join his boyfriend on the sofa, so reached for the large bag that he had taken on his mission and pulled out the bedroll he kept in it; sleeping with this on the carpet would be an improvement to sleeping on the ground, as he had been for the last few weeks. He pushed their coffee table to the side for space as he heard a whispered voice.

"Well wasn't that cute," Freed said from his place on the sofa.

"Shit," Laxus whispered harshly at the sudden sound, before looking at his boyfriend and his shit eating grin. "How long have you been awake?"

"Since you struggled to open the door again," Freed commented, sitting up slightly and watching as Laxus readied his sleeping arrangements. "You can sleep here, if you want. You probably need the comfort more than me."

"Nah, its fine," Laxus assured him. "Although this is big enough for two, if you wanna join me."

With a slightly tired chuckle, Freed nodded and removed himself from the sofa he had been sleeping on. He helped Laxus setting up the bedroll, brought the blanket and pillow he had been using and lay on the shockingly comfortable surface. Laxus lay beside him, and although it was a little cramped and they were somewhat awkwardly sharing two single-person blankets, it was nice. Arguably better than the sofa, though Freed expected the blonde was responsible for that.

Laxus turned so he was facing Freed, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend's body to pull him closer. He leant down and delivered a small, chaste kiss on the other man's lips as a form of greeting; he had missed kissing the man while he had been away.

"Who would have thought it, the great Laxus Dreyar acting in such a soft way," Freed taunted slightly, tiredness evident in his voice. "Making hot chocolate, facilitating a midnight snack, and giving brotherly advice. How precious."

"Fuck off," Laxus chuckled softly, not offended.

"Hypothetically, just because Wendy can't tell Natsu and his friends how utterly adorable you were being, that doesn't stop me now does it?"

"Go to sleep," Laxus said with a smile, pulling his boyfriend closer and closing his eyes to let sleep take over. As tiredness overtook him, he simply murmured. "Jackass."

[starbudspresents]

DGM 230 - Panthaleia’s Translation Notes

IT'S THAT TIME AGAIN

That is, your quarterly reminder that I'm still alive! As are the rest of StarBuds, hip hip hooray.

Big gorgeous 35-page chapter this time around, so let's jump right in!

1.) I have been informed that the cityscape referenced in the opening setting panels here is Edinburgh, Scotland:

Edinburgh is in fact in Scotland, buuuut this is somewhat complicated by the fact that Hoshino-sensei did something weird with the naming here (wow, shock). 

Though she calls London "London" and Paris "Paris" and is therefore presumably fine with giving real-world cities their real-world names, she calls the town our heroes just landed in "Edinston" rather than "Edinburgh" and says it's in "Igirisu," which is a Japanese world describing both the United Kingdom and — more commonly — England in particular. There are existing Japanese words for both "Scotland" and "Edinburgh," and they are notably not used. 

To be as safe as possible, I've transliterated the town name directly and used "Britain" wherever "Igirisu" was used, to leave the door open for either possibility to be true. 

As for Allen's nationality: that's still up in the air, too, because this town is only where he met Mana in the circus and the events of Lost Fragment of Snow transpired, not where he was born or where he joined up. He's definitely from somewhere in the UK, but beyond that? Pick your favourite and have fun, haha.  

2.) HALLELUJAH AMEN, IT'S RAINING MEN (enjoy those nightmares, kids! :D)

3.) Oh my god, they forgot the bracelets. Rest in pieces. 

(Also: the implication that if Komui had made them they were probably broken because things Komui makes work so terribly well the people whose lives they're meant to improve often end up worse off in the end is both hilarious and painful. See: Komurin. But because Reever made it, coming off is a failsafe meant to protect the users from unforeseen circumstances, because he actually thinks things all the way through most of the time.)

4.) "the ground smells different" I mean okay to be entirely fair, this is a real thing that I've noticed myself, but this is still... so funny.... such a dog person thing to say.....

5.) The "one more step" line was more literally "if you intend to keep running any more than this," with the implication that Kanda would rather just kill him right now and have done than take one more step in his pursuit. (Kandas are natural sprinters; very dangerous over short distances.)

6.) lmao

Allen: okay are you going to save me or kill me, please choose one

Kanda: both? both is good

8.) Okay now for a bit of the kind of thing I actually make these posts for:

"神の結晶" (kami no kesshou) is a very interesting term that was first (and possibly only ever the once, I still haven't read all the raws) used in chapter 007, during Komui's guided tour of the Order:

Komui: A substance of mysterious power some call the "crystal of God."

The fun thing about this is that while pretty much everyone opted to translate kesshou as "crystal" — the "crystal of God" — the word also (and more often) means "crystallization (of)". As in, Innocence is the crystallized and shattered body of God. 

Funnily enough, when I went back to 197 to find a panel for the next point, I also found this while skimming:

Image

Guro!Tokusa: We [AKUMA] will [kill/destroy] God (f: the Innocence).

The kanji say "God", the furigana say "Innocence," and that is what Hoshino does when things are meaningfully related and/or synonymous. By destroying the Innocence, they are killing God, because the Innocence was not made by God, but of God.

Soooo since this is my translation and that felt like a Sign, I'm going with "crystallization," to hell with it.

 9.) This part is new favourite ever, oh my god. Kanda not only understanding the feelings of others, but trying to teach empathy to Allen?? Oh, how the turntables~! 

And then!! Allen accusing Kanda of sticking his nose in where it isn't welcome, and Kanda's like "POT, KETTLE, ASSHOLE" because this is exactly what Allen did to/for him in North America over Alma. "Call this payback for what you said" refers to this bit in 197:

Allen: You're not even trying to face Alma head-on...

Kanda: Now who isn't facing things head-on?

ALSOOOO the callback to chapter 005, wherein Kanda cut Allen's arm with Mugen for an entirely different reason:

Allen's self-sacrificing hypocrisy, however well meant, is being called out increasingly hard as the story goes on, and I'm all about it. He keeps trying to make people's decisions for them, and though it's true that he's doing it because he's scared for them, it's still not at all his call to make. He's treating them like children, not his friends, and ignoring their very clearly stated wish to see this through with him, but even so they're standing firm on the decisions they made for themselves. justcommunication.mp3

9.) And the flipside: despite his terror of seeing his loved ones hurt, he actually is still properly scared for himself and desperately doesn't want to be alone. Their presence made everything both worse for him (because they cranked up the stakes even higher being within impact range) and better (because he wasn't alone in the sightless, murderous dark). His torn heart here is so real and it hurts just to watch. In the best of ways.

10.) Aaaand there's where the "fool" line comes back in: when Allen accepts that he's guilty of exactly the same thing he took Kanda to task for, and they've just exchanged shoes. This chapter is a gift to me personally, thank you Hoshino-no-kami.  

11.) He's grieving for Tim properly now, thank god. This is tremendously painful too, but so much better than the blank dissociation from before. Now he can walk on through the rest of the grieving process with everything moving within him as it should. 

12.) I definitely thought for a hot minute that the Mana-marked tree was Cornelia and he jumped them straight to the mansion, but it's definitely not. It's in a small square in a city, whereas Cornelia is on the vast Canbell property, and it wouldn't make any sense for the circus to have been parked on the front lawn of the place Mana ran away from. So the plot isn't jumping ahead quite as fast as I initially thought, but it is going somewhere!! For real!!!

13.) The little "is your stomach empty, too" aside is because he thinks Allen is grubbing around in the dirt for food. (Take a glance at the fancy ants and maybe... try a few? ♫) 

14.) Furigana on "Allen" in "where Allen was born" say "I," and "born" really says "hajimari", "beginning". I took a tiny bit of poetic liberty on that one and I don't think it'll affect anything but if it does, now you know.

What a killer chapter, I'm so delighted. January is going to be amazing. 

If you have any questions, or think I've made any mistakes (entiiiiirely possible), drop me an ask or hit me up @Panthaleia9705 on Discord! I'm not actively participating in fandom right now but I will still respond if I'm hailed, haha. <3

[gwenbrightly]

Maybe

Cross posted from ffnet. Hello everyone! Welcome to the fic that was supposed to be my Valentines Day special… But… I'm not great with deadlines, so it's a few days late. "Maybe" is centered around Kai and Skylor, and takes place between s4 and s5. I've taken some liberties here with how Master Chen's Noodle House operates, and a few other things, but I really hope you enjoy my first attempt at writing Kailor! It was definitely interesting, trying to find the right balance between awkward dorkiness and adorable fluff, but I had a lot of fun writing this, as random as it turned out! Enjoy!

________________________________________________________________

Skylor stared balefully at her watch, silently willing the meeting she was currently in the middle of to reach its end before she got driven insane. The past month had been an exhausting, chaotic mess for her, and she was ready for it to be over. Following her father's banishment to the cursed realm, she had begun fighting to rebuild his noodle empire in a much less criminally inclined way. There had been little time to relax; she'd barely been able to appreciate the fact that she was living on her own terms for the first time in her life before being thrust into the process of orchestrating the many changes that needed to be made. Countless hours had been dedicated to debating and discussing, interviewing and observing, adjusting and questioning. All in the hopes of giving those associated with the many branches of the popular restaurant a chance at a new beginning. And it was nice, to have a purpose. But there were times where she debated whether or not she was actually making any headway.

"But if we reconfigure our employee rights policy as you have proposed, production may be negatively effected, which will most certainly lead to a significant decrease in profit..." A representative from one of the noodle factories pointed out, not at all pleased with the adjustments the redhead had just described. Sometimes she wondered if the individual in question wanted her to fail. She could've sworn she heard someone grunt in agreement. The bespectacled young women across the table from her glanced up from her Borg tablet in concern. Skylor shook her head. Best not to let this situation get out of hand.

"I am aware of that, Mr. Millers. I've already told you multiple times that I am more than prepared to deal with the consequences of any adjustments we make as long as it allows us to give Master Chen's Noodle House the positive reputation it deserves. So, really, I'm not sure why you've brought this up again." She said with a sigh. How much longer before she could retreat to the safety of her apartment? 10, 15 more minutes?

"Miss Chen has made great progress over the past few weeks. Just think of how popular the puffy potstickers have become since she decided to put them back on the menu." June, her recently hired assistant manager added quietly. Yes, she had made the right decision in selecting this girl to join her tightly knit team of employees, even if she was rather soft spoken.

"I am merely... concerned that these changes have not been thought out sufficiently. This business has existed for decades... It would be a shame if someone were to... Run it into the ground with unrealistic dreams..." The man replied in an oily tone, giving her a very fake smile. Skylor frowned. Such behavior was only going to make the meeting more tedious. It was official. He definitely wouldn't mind seeing her slip up.

"First of all, the lack of pay and deplorable working conditions seen in many of our more rural factories could be considered illegal, as I'm sure you know, and second of all, don't think I'm oblivious to what you are insinuating. I had hoped that your expertise and years of experience would be beneficial in reforming my father's business, but if you continue to undermine my judgement and fight me at every turn, I will be forced to ask you to leave." She informed Mr. Millers with a pointed stare. He deflated slightly but didn't seem overly thrilled to have been called out on his behavior.

"...As you wish, Ms. Chen..." For now.

"Good." Skylor declared forcefully, sharing an exasperated look with June, " I propose that we begin implementing adjustments as planned, then. To start with, all workers will now be entitled to a 15 minute break every three hours, and a half an hour break after five. Shifts will be no longer than nine hours, and we are increasing pay to minimum wage. All in favor?" She and June raised their hands immediately. The head delivery truck driver, quality control specialist, and several faculty members hailing from various locations, joined them, eventually, leaving a disgruntled Mr. Millers and one additional factory representative as the only opposers.

"That's eight for and two against. Sorry, Mr. Millers, but it looks like majority wins in this case." Skylor's assistant declared, hurriedly typing the results of the vote for posterity. She didn't appear even remotely apologetic about this turn of events.

"Thank you, everyone, for being so flexible. I know we've experienced a lot of changes lately, but I truly believe they will help make Master Chen's more successful in the long run. Now, is there anything else we need to discuss? I know many of you have families to get home to, so I'd prefer not to drag this meeting out any more than we have to, especially on a Saturday." Skylor commented with a relieved smile. Almost finished...

"I vote we call it quits. Today's supposed to be date night with the wife." Offered the truck driver. The others nodded their assent. Even those who were dissatisfied with the outcome of the meeting were ready to depart.

"Okay, then. Enjoy the rest of your weekend. I'll see all of you next week, alright?" The redhead called as conference room exploded into a flurry of chairs being pushed forward and paperwork being packed away.

"Phew. Glad that's over." June told her, watching everyone leave.

"Yep. We survived another run in with the infamous Mr. Millers."

"He sure is determined to throw you to the sharks... I don't know how you do it..."

"It isn't easy, but I'm sure he'll come around. Eventually. Or he'll just straight up quit. But it helps to have such a good team on my side." Skylor replied, elbowing her, "You've been a great help in getting everything organized. I really appreciate all your hard work. And June? Tell Chad I say hello... I can see his car in the parking lot." The assistant manager's cheeks flushed.

"Oh. O-of course. See you tomorrow... Please try to relax a little. I don't wanna end up having to run this place all by myself if you overwork yourself to death..."

"No promises, but I'll try. Now get yourself outta here – don't need keep that boyfriend of yours waiting, right? " The young woman told her friend, practically shoving her out the door.

"Okay, okay. I'm going. Bye!"

"Bye." At least one of them had something enjoyable to do with the remainder of the afternoon.

"Miss Chen? A-are you leaving? There's a customer who's been asking for you for the past half an hour…" The waitress who had suddenly appeared by her side informed her. Skylor cursed her luck. It looked like relaxation would have to wait.

"Where?" She asked, exhaling deeply.

"The corner booth over by the window. You can't miss him…" The waitress replied, pointing. Better get this over with, then, she thought, wandering towards the table she'd been directed to. The master of amber took her time, reluctant to engage in another potentially frustrating conversation.

"Hello? Someone said you wanted to see me… is there a problem?" She inquired, drawing closer.

"Oh, there's no problem," The person replied casually, turning so she could see their face, "I just wanted to talk to the prettiest restaurant owner in all of Ninjago City, that all." And then recognition dawned on her.

"Kai?" Skylor gasped in surprise.

"The one and only. Do you have time to talk for bit?" The spiky haired ninja smiled widely.

"Uh... Sure, definitely. It's been awhile... How have you been since the tournament?" She commented, eagerly slipping onto the bench opposite his.

"Oh, you know, the usual. Trying to keep Cole and Jay from killing each other. Making sure Lloyd actually sleeps at night and isn't living entirely off of peach rings. Solving minor problems for civilians. You hear about that bank robbery last week? Yeah, that was us." Kai told her with a shrug. The redhead's eyes widened.

"Wow, really? Sounds like you've been busy, then."

"Yeah. That's why I wasn't able to visit sooner – though I really wanted to... Especially since Master Wu's decided he wants to try his hand at tea making. He's got all of us helping him remodel Garmadon's old monastery so he can use it as a teashop." She wished he had been able to drop by before now, but she'd take what she could get.

"Oh. That's... That's an interesting decision. How is Lloyd taking it?" He looked a touch guilty, probably worried about his honorary brother. She'd gotten the impression that they were an extremely close-knit family. What would it be like to be part of something like that? Skylor wondered.

"It's hard to tell. He says he's just happy to have his team back together again... We're hoping he really is cool with it, but… getting him to talk about his feelings is like pulling teeth sometimes..."

"Yeesh. Sounds about right from what I've seen of him."

"Basically… But enough about me and my crazy family drama, even if I do admit to being a little worried about the kid. How has life been treating you these days?" Kai questioned (after all, he had come to see her, and she clearly needed to de-stress).

"It's been… hectic, to say the least. You wouldn't believe the number of sketchy business agreements my father made while he was still… around… I've been trying to undo most of them, but it takes time… and, well… there are people who are definitely not gung-ho about all the changes I'm making…" Skylor disclosed with a weary sigh. The master of fire reached across the table and clasped her hands.

"That sucks. I'm sure it'll get better soon, though. You have a that crazy way of winning people over with minimal effort. Few can resist your powers of persuasion." Was it just her, or was the room suddenly much hotter than it had been before?

"Thanks, but not everyone feels the way you do… I just hope it blows over soon. These weekend meetings – that's where I was when you got here – they're killing me… I've barely had time to sleep, let alone enjoy the city…"

"Sounds like you need to get away more… D-do you wanna… Go do something with me to get your mind off of everything?" Kai offered. Skylor froze for a second.

"A-are you asking me out? Like on a date?" She found herself saying, immediately cursing herself for being so forward. This… Dynamic between the two of them was difficult to define. They'd grown incredibly close while on her father's island, but then… she just wasn't quite sure where they stood now…

"Er… Maybe…? I-if you want it to be? I mean, we never did get to play tourist, so…? What I'm saying is… I enjoy you and I… I'd love to spend more time together…and… " The spiky haired young man rambled, smiling awkwardly. His cheeks were noticeably rosier than before. Oh. Yes, she would most certainly be interested in doing so.

"Okay, then… I'd love to go on a maybe date with you, Kai. Thanks for asking." She decided, smirking. His face brightened.

"Great! This is great! So… Uh, when are you free?"

"Say the word and I can be ready in five minutes?"

"Really?"

"Sure. Just lemme grab my purse. That should give you plenty of time to figure out what we're doing…" Skylor said, untangling her hands from Kai's and heading for her office. So, her weekend wouldn't be as tedious as she'd been expecting after all.

______________________________________________________________

"You know, it's gonna be a little hard for me to get out of your car with my eyes shut…" The redhead complained a bit later as she felt the vehicle come to a stop. She could hear the sound of Kai's laughter from the driver's seat.

"Don't worry. I'll make sure you don't face plant."

"That's such a comfort, Kai. Really, I feel much better knowing you're there to catch me..." Skylor replied, resisting the urge to peek. He ignored her sass in favor of exiting the car and slipping around to the passenger side.

"Here," The master of fire said, grabbing her hand and helping her step onto the asphalt outside.

"So, you gonna tell me where we are?" She asked, ready to be permitted to open her eyes again.

"Nope. Not yet. I want it to be a surprise." Her companion informed her. Kai gently gripped her elbow to keep her from losing her way. He was certainly taking this seriously given how spur of the moment it had been. It was kind of adorable.

"It's just a little further." Together, they wandered towards the unknown destination.

"I'm trusting you that when I finally get to open my eyes , I won't be standing in the middle of a sewage system or something." Joked Skylor as the master of fire's pace slowed.

"Geez, I'm not that mean… and I'll have you know that Ninjago City's sewers are actually a very interesting place to explore." He started defensively, "Though, on second thought, we'd probably both rather not run into any Serpentine right now, so. Guess I can't really judge too much…"

"I was kidding, dork. But yeah, maybe save that for another time?"

"Well, uh… We're here, so, you can look now." Kai stated awkwardly.

"Whoah. S' bright out here…" The girl blinked furiously. He slung an arm around her shoulders.

"Well, you see, that's what you get for spending all day inside that restaurant of yours dealing with prickly business men. No time to enjoy the sun." She seriously contemplated whipping him in the face with her ponytail, but ultimately chose not to. Looking around, she caught sight of the rather large sign just in front of them.

"I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that I've been pretty much blind since we left the restaurant… The Ninjago City Zoo, huh?"

"I-is this okay? It was the first thing I thought of, and-" The master of fire inquired nervously.

"It's totally fine. I've been meaning to come here, anyway. It'll be way more fun when I've got someone to enjoy it with." She assured him with a smile. Kai returned the smile in relief.

"Shall we?" They linked arms and pressed forward, joining the surprisingly short line of people waiting to get in.

Entrance fee paid, the two soon found themselves standing near a large map with arrows pointing to the various attractions and areas within the park.

"So. There's a peacock on the loose. Should I be concerned?" Skylor observed, attention temporarily drawn away from their discussion of which route to take. Kai glanced where she was looking. A very self satisfied bird was currently strutting about, fanning its brilliant feathers for all to see. Several children followed it in fascination. He snapped a picture on his phone to show the others later.

"Nah, it's pretty common for one to be wandering around like that. They're super tame. You're not, like, allergic or anything, right?" She shook her head.

"Nope. It's just… My father tried to keep one as a pet when I was little, and I guess I've never really…"

"Tried?" Her eyes lit up at the question.

"Well, we only had it for a few weeks. It absolutely hated Clouse – I don't know what he did to anger it – but it was always chasing him down the hallways screeching and stuff? Let me tell you, those things may be beautiful to look at, but they make the worst noises imaginable. It was hilarious to watch, though. He'd just be minding his own business, and that stupid bird would come flying at him like he'd murdered its young." The redhead explained, giggling as she remembered the man's plight.

"Seriously? That's priceless?" Kai declared, laughing with her.

"Yeah, and you should've seen how many times he complained about it, too. He was always like, Master, your pet just tried to make me into a pincushion again. Why do you insist on putting up with such a ridiculous creature? Don't you have a button to make it go away? And my father would just go on and on about how glorious its feathers were and how it was worth more than all of Clouse's hair dye collection."

"Wait-Clouse dyed his hair?" Kai wheezed.

"Ooh, now I'm giving away all my dark family secrets. Better watch out, or I'll start spilling the secret recipe for puffy pot stickers or something…" She teased.

"So, what happened to it?"

"Darn thing ended up being released into the wild. Father couldn't bring himself to get rid of it completely, you know, just in case he ended up needing a way to mess with Clouse again… I think it's still on the island somewhere. Used to see it every once in awhile when I went hiking and stuff."

"That has to be one of the coolest stories I've heard in a long time." The master of fire asserted.

"It's… something, alright." Skylor admitted, "Where to first?"

"Have you ever seen a camel?"

As it turned out, while Master Chen's island had contained a variety of exotic creatures, Skylor had in fact, never been near a camel before. So, of course, the spiky haired ninja was more than happy to change that.

"C'mon Skylor, I have a great idea." He informed her, dragging her down the pathway, at breakneck speed, dodging other people as they went.

"Could we maybe slow down a bit?" She panted.

"Sorry, no can do. We don't wanna be late for feeding time. You'll be missing out on a pretty cool opportunity if we do."

"Wait… What?"

They arrived at the exhibit just as the zookeeper began explaining procedures for meal time interaction.

"If you just hold out your hand like this," The zookeeper demonstrated, pressing some treats into their hands. Apparently Skylor was going to be getting up close and personal with the large mammal.

"Nice and steady, Brenda, here, probably won't spit on you."

"Probably." The redhead commented, bemused.

"Yeah, these are her favorite treats."

"What am I even doing right now?" She pondered, turning to Kai.

"Having fun. Duh."

"You won't be saying that if the camel spits on you." Skylor pointed out.

"The chances of that happening are like, super slim. In all the times I've been here before, it's never even come close to being a problem. And besides, I'll still look awesome, even if I do end up with spit in my hair." He insisted cockily.

"Whatever you say, fire boy." She said, finally following the zookeeper's instructions. Hand held out, she watched as the camel approached her. Luckily, Brenda was only interested in daintily consuming the offering of food that was being presented to her, and refrained from salivating on anyone. She nudged the redhead's shoulder playfully when she was finished, looking for more food.

"Sorry," Skylor told the creature, "That's all I got. Go bug Kai. He still has some."

"See? She's just a big softie…" The master of fire stated, letting the camel nibble on the treats he held.

"Yeah, kinda like someone else I know." She replied with an innocent smirk. He raised an eyebrow.

"No clue who that could be..."

"Course' not. Thank you for letting us participate in this. It was surprisingly fun." The girl commented to the zookeeper as they made their departure.

"Okay, you get to choose where we're going this time." Kai stated, linking arms with her.

"You sure you wanna trust me with that? I might make you visit your brethren the porcupines."

" First it was hedgehogs, and now this? Why does everyone always want to compare me to prickly animals?" He groaned in mock irritation, continuing to wander down the trail.

"Well, I mean, you could always restyle your hair?" She suggested.

"Never! I like it the way it is."

"Who am I to stand in your way, then? C'mon, the lions should be just up ahead." They walked in companionable silence, enjoying the nice weather and the distraction from their chaotic lives. Several hours were spent exploring the zoo. Kai showed her all the best places to stand in order to get the perfect view of the animals. Skylor's phone quickly filled with pictures. Good natured teasing was shot back any forth. The sun had begun to set by the time they'd seen everything there was to see. An afternoon well spent, for both of them.

________________________________________________________________"Hey Sky?" Kai called softly, shaking the sleeping redheads shoulder, "Skylor? We're here."

"Wuh?" She asked blearily, running at her eyes. The day's events had clearly wiped her out.

"We're just outside your apartment. You fell asleep pretty much as soon as I pulled out of the parking lot."

"Oh." She was home already?

"Yeah. But that's okay… I mean, we did do an awful lot of walking, and I know you were already tired before we even left Master Chen's, so…" He assured her.

"Hey, Kai?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For today, I mean. It was… It was nice to get away for awhile. With you."

"It was" He agreed, wishing the moment could last longer.

"Let's try not to wait so long between visits next time, okay? I-I missed you…" The girl admitted. Next time?

"I missed you, too… I'll do my best to drop by more often." Promised the master of fire. Skylor shot him a weary grin.

"Well. Good. I, uh… I'll text you?"

"Sounds like a plan."

"Goodbye," She said, giving him a side hug. It only lasted for a second, but it was full of warmth.

"Bye. I… I hope things with your restaurant calm down soon…" Kai stated.

"Me too. Good luck with the tea business. Maybe I'll drop by sometime."

"I'd like that." Reluctantly climbing from the vehicle, Skylor gave one last wave before heading inside. Although it would end up being awhile before either of them were ready (or able) to commit to anything official, this day would always be locked in their memories as one of the best moments in the beginnings of their relationship. Their lives would be busy, and filled with danger, but, eventually, they would find their way. Almost as soon as the redhead had left, the master of fire's phone began to vibrate. How on earth did his sister have such perfect timing?

_______________________________________________________________

Nya: So, how was ur DATE with Skylor?!

Kai: #1, it wasn't even anything official. #2, how on earth did u know what I was up to? Stalker.

Nya: It wasn't even that hard to figure out. Ur so hopelessly in love that I couldn't help but notice.

Kai: What? U know that doesn't answer my question – right?

Nya: Fine. Green bean and I checked the tracking device on ur phone.

Nya: We got bored. And there's only ONE reason u'd visit the noodle place. It doesn't take a genius.

Kai: Invasion of privacy, much?

Nya: I call sibling rights.

Kai: Whatever, dorks.

Kai: And for the record, it went great.

Nya: ASDJDHFHSJA! Details?

Kai: Patience, sis. Tell u when I get back.

Nya: Better drive fast then. I'm waiting.

Kai: Kay. I'll make sure to completely ignore every speed limit posting I see.

Nya: Fine. Fair point. Don't get urself arrested. I'm not bailing u out.

Kai: Sure thing. Imma be home soon.

Nya: Love u.

Kai: love u 2.

[nigeiadigitalmarketingcompany]

“We Wargamed the Last Days of Brexit. Here’s What We Found Out.”

Digital Elixir “We Wargamed the Last Days of Brexit. Here’s What We Found Out.”

Yves here. It seemed fitting to post again on Brexit, if nothing else to commemorate, if that’s the right word, Boris Johnson becoming Prime Minister of the UK Wednesday afternoon.

It’s not a good omen that the EU has felt compelled to debunk Johnson’s campaign claims about Brexit that have been taken up again by allies. From the Guardian:

Boris Johnson’s claims that crashing out of the EU with no deal would be less painful because of a series of “side deals” that the UK has already done with Brussels have been dismissed as “rubbish” by the EU….

Iain Duncan Smith referred to 17 side deals on the table while the former chancellor Norman Lamont told Sky News hours after Johnson won the Tory leadership contest that “there is no such thing as no deal” as there were “all sorts of side deals that were done”.

A senior EU official described the claims of side deals as “pure rubbish”, pointing out that the so-called deals are unilateral positions taken by the EU alone to keep the basics functioning on their side of the border.

Michel Barnier felt compelled to remind Johnson that the Withdrawal Agreement was the only deal on offer:

We look forward to working constructively w/ PM @BorisJohnson when he takes office, to facilitate the ratification of the Withdrawal Agreement and achieve an orderly #Brexit. We are ready also to rework the agreed Declaration on a new partnership in line with #EUCO guidelines.

— Michel Barnier (@MichelBarnier) July 23, 2019

Other EU leaders were more pointed. From the Independent:

The EU has shot down Boris Johnson’s Brexit plan within moments of his appointment as Tory leader, in the latest sign that the bloc has no plans to make concessions.

In an intervention timed to coincide with Mr Johnson’s election announcement, Frans Timmermans, the European Commission’s first vice president, told reporters in Brussels that the EU would not renegotiate the deal reached with Theresa May.

Another EU commissioner, Vytenis Andriukaitis, also warned that politicians like Mr Johnson were undermining democracy with “cheap promises, simplified visions, blatantly evident incorrect statements”.

A new article at Politico takes up the theme that EU leaders see Johnson as a joke:

After years of laughing at him, Europeans simply don’t take Johnson seriously. At this stage, it’s difficult to imagine what could change their minds.

While Europeans may take delight in lampooning Donald Trump, they also respect (and fear) the power of his office…

But no one’s afraid of Johnson.

Though the U.K. remains a key strategic player within Europe, that reliance cuts across both sides of the Channel. Following the seizure of a British-flagged oil tanker by Iran last week, for example, the U.K. responded by calling for a European naval force to protect sea routes in the Strait of Hormuz.

When it comes to the economy, the U.K. is far more dependent on the EU than vice versa.

That’s why Europe’s response to Johnson’s threat to leave the EU come what may on October 31, deal or no deal, has been a polite yawn.

Corbyn has promised a “surprise” no confidence motion (huh?) but it’s not clear his fellow MPs would be keen to have elections now, given how badly Labour has been polling. Bloomberg reports that Johnson said he won’t call a snap election.

To elicit further reader input, we’re posting yet another Brexit piece that has us scratching our heads. It described how the Institut für die Wissenschaften vom Menschen (IWM) and the ERSTE Foundation in Vienna set up a large team that was diverse by background, nationality, and political views, to “wargame” Brexit.

What is frustrating is that the effort got so much right in terms of how it assigned roles and set parameters, but got one part disastrously wrong: that Brexit is a default, and the Government has to either sign the Withdrawal Agreement, ask for an extension, or revoke Article 50 to prevent an October 31 departure. By making Parliament the focus of the wargame, the exercise had the effect of getting the participants to see Parliament as in charge when it isn’t.

This is consistent with the fact that Parliament isn’t taking steps sufficient to prevent a crashout and seems to be kidding itself about the effectiveness of its gambits to date. Only legislation instructing the Prime Minister could do that. Mere motions or the blocking of particular avenues, like keeping the Government from proroguing Parliament, aren’t adequate. The fact that MPs aren’t objecting to the normal summer recess or the expected September break for party caucuses is a sign of unseriousness.

If Johnson were clever and determined to have his Brexit, he’s minimize but not entirely eliminate Parliamentary time for Brexit. Of course, MPs could try to add a “no crashout” amendment to another bit of legislation. Could Johnson schedule any “must have early on” bills for early in the session, before enough MPs realize only legislation can stop a no deal if that’s what Johnson wants or winds up stumbling into?

As you’ll see, the wargame results in vote for a second referendum. It’s hard to see that happening by the end of October, or even year end, if for some reason the UK asks for an extension and the EU agrees to a short one. And it’s hard to see a second referendum solving anything. The tacit assumption is that UK voters will reverse themselves, but what if they don’t? And I’ve yet to see how to formulate second referendum questions to get at what “Leave” means.

And statements like this don’t help the second referendum cause. It comes off at too close to saying a second referendum result reaffirming Leave would not be acceptable:

By Luke Cooper, a Senior Lecturer in International Politics at Anglia Ruskin University and a Visiting Fellow on the Europe’s Futures programme at the IWM in 2018 – 2019. He is currently writing a book on the crisis of the European Union. @lukecooper100. Originally published at openDemocracy

Scenario planning plays an important role in modern politics. Political contestation is the art of out-manoeuvring opponents. By attempting to anticipate the moves they will make in response to events and problems, party leaderships or factions plan for possible eventualities. They seek to defeat the other side by outwitting them strategically. Simulation games are aimed at helping these efforts by building up a picture of how their opponents behave.

Interpretive Hypotheses

Such games can hone strategic thinking, but they are, of course, necessarily imperfect, ‘probabilistic’ exercises. However well scenarios are prepared for there will always be too many variables for us to ‘know’ the future. There are simply too many possible events and factors that might occur, and interact in unique, complex and contingent ways, for us to be entirely sure what the actual course of history will be. E.H. Carr made this point in his famous text, What is History? Carr argued that, by the middle of the twentieth century, historians had abandoned determinism and were now more modest in their goals. ‘Content to inquire how things work’, as he put it.[i]

Rather than believing the goal of an enquiry into the past was to achieve certainty about the course of events in the future, Carr instead proposed a method based on hypothesis and interpretation. For Carr a good hypothesis constituted a ‘tool of thought, valid in so far as it is illuminating, and dependent for its validity on interpretation’.[ii] The logic of this principle was simple. History does not follow a strict determinism. But neither is anything possible. Drawing on Carr we might say that any study of a political process requires interpreting the mix of interests and circumstances in order to illuminate how exactly it evolves over time. Carr serves as a useful frame for a simulation game exercise.

The Brexit Simulation

A group of us recently participated in a simulation game to model the future of the Brexit process. By assuming different roles amongst the forces in conflict over the future of the United Kingdom, we hoped to gain a greater understanding of the process and what might come next. We solicited the help of Richard Barbrook, an academic at Westminster University, and director of Digital Liberties, a UK-based cooperative that has pioneered the use of participatory simulations to anticipate political scenarios. His book, Class Wargames, applies the ideas of the French situationist, Guy Debord, who advocated the use of strategy games as performative, even theatrical, exercises to understand one’s political opponents and their strategic thinking. Barbrook designed the game, which he called, Meaningful Votes: The Brexit Simulation.

Collaborating on this initiative with the Institut für die Wissenschaften vom Menschen (IWM) and the ERSTE Foundation in Vienna we assembled a group of participants in Vienna comprised of civil society, journalists, academics and intellectuals.They were a mixture of nationalities, from Austria, the Balkans, the United States and Britain, and held a plurality of political views from left to right. For mainland European participants the game provided an opportunity to empirically rationalise a crisis that many had found inexplicable; for example, the refusal hitherto of the British parties to find a compromise on Brexit in Parliament is highly alien to those used to the political systems with a culture of building consensus (often with proportional representation), that exist in Germany, the Netherlands and Austria. Each participant took on the role of a faction within Parliament with the game beginning after the defeat of the heavy defeat of the First Meaningful Vote on 15 January 2019.

Simulating the Factions

As Brexit has radically disrupted the existing British party system, the factional roles assumed by players did not tend to align with a particular party leadership. Instead different Tory and Labour factions were represented within the game. Each player had a series of votes allocated in the British Parliament. Larger factions had two different vote allocations: ‘waverers’ and diehards. They could potentially cast these votes in different directions. Another element of the game design lay in a consciously British-centric approach. An assumption underpinning the game was that the EU side would act as, in gaming-terms, a ‘dummy-player’. This refers to when an actor is present within a scenario, who does not face choices that affect the overall arc of the decision pathway. With modifications to the Withdrawal Agreement persistently ruled out by the EU, had players assumed this vantage point they would not have faced any choices. As a dummy-player, the umpire thus articulated the position of the EU-27 states at key decision-making points across the game.

Following the playful spirit of Debord’s legacy, this really was a game.Players accumulated points in relation to different votes passing and goals being reached. Some had hidden objectives that were revealed at the end of the game, identifying a potential conflict between the public statements of factions and their underlying motivations. The ‘winner’ had the most points at the end of the game.

Towards ‘No Brexit’

So what happened? And what did we learn from this exercise?

The outcome of the game eventually resolved itself in a new referendum. By this stage the game had moved into the near future of early autumn 2019. The cross-party negotiations had failed to reach a breakthrough acceptable to both leaderships. Softer members of the Tory Brexit Delivery Group then split away from the party leadership, crossing the floor to support a new referendum. Interestingly, this came as a surprise to the game designer, Barbrook, who had anticipated a stalemate and a further extension of Article 50 at the end of October 2019.

If this suggests the game had a Remain bias, other moments in the scenario serve to refute this. At an earlier moment in the game a majority emerged in Parliament in spite of opposition from Labour and the Remain parties, for the kind of technological solution to the Irish border question favoured by the ERG as an alternative to the troubled ‘Irish backstop’. Assuming the dummy-player function, the EU then intervened via the umpire into the Parliamentary scenario to rule out an agreement without the backstop. With Parliament then voting against leaving without a deal, the political factions were confronted with the same problem they have at the current time.

The crux of this decision is ultimately a narrow one: few options are still available to parties, making the outcome relatively straightforward to model. Leave on the deal May has negotiated with the EU, which is unpopular with Brexit voters and with Labour Remain voters who would like a second referendum. Or negotiate changes to the UK-future relationship document (the Withdrawal Agreement will not be reopened by the EU) to make the Brexit deal softer, making it more palatable for the Labour Party but even less acceptable to Brexit voters and Brexiters in the Tory party. As the changes are not legally binding on a future Tory prime minister even a Labour Party leadership wishing to ‘deliver Brexit’ has little incentive to support such a deal. This leaves only two further choices. Hold new elections in the hope they might produce a balance in the Parliament more conducive to striking a deal. Or, move towards a new referendum, which includes the opportunity to remain in the EU.

Globalisation, Brexit and Strategic Choices

The outcome of the game is not an exact prediction of events in the near future. One player’s calculation that at a certain stage the mainstream of the Tory party will have to try and ‘move on’ from Brexit by peeling off towards a referendum is what Carr called an interpretive hypothesis. It will be tested in the months ahead.

Rather the game offers an insight into the interests that will shape this and the core contradiction underpinning the process: that there is not a tangible, pragmatic form of Brexit acceptable to the people that want Brexit. The vote in the game for ‘technological solutions to the Irish border’ was analogous with, though not identical to, Parliament’s vote on the 30 January 2019 for the ‘Brady amendment’, which mandated the government to seek changes to the Irish backstop as a condition for passing the Withdrawal Agreement. Having passed by 317 votes to 301, Theresa May hailed it as demonstrating a ‘substantial and sustainable majority’ for leaving the EU. When the EU insisted on the Irish backstop, the refusal of the hard Brexiters and the DUP to compromise forced a logic of events that points increasingly to ‘no Brexit’.

“We Wargamed the Last Days of Brexit. Here’s What We Found Out.”

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[patewabrain]

Religious Liberty Law Firm Praises SCOTUS ‘Shadow Docket’ in Bid to Take Down California’s COVID Restrictions

Gov. Newsom A religious liberty public interest law firm heaped praise on the Supreme Court’s controversial use of the “shadow docket ” in a Wednesday amicus brief. The brief asks the justices to grant emergency relief by stopping the state of California from enforcing Gov. Gavin Newsom’s  (D) COVID-19 pandemic health restrictions. Coined by University of Chicago law professor William Baude in 2015, the term “shadow docket” refers to rulings decided outside the court’s regular docket without oral argument. The public is able to see the court’s ultimate decision, but how the justices voted and much of the underlying reasoning remain a mystery. The mechanism is not new to the high court, but legal scholars have increasingly warned that the court’s reliance on the shadow docket is a point of high concern. In the wake of the pandemic, the use of the shadow docket has continued to grow, and that growth has caused an immediate impact on California’s ability to enforce health restrictions . The trend is one which attorneys at the Becket Law Fund for Religious Liberty urged the court to continue in its latest filing seeking an emergency order. “To hear some people tell it, there is something shady about the Court’s emergency docket. Indeed, they’ve even given it the moniker ‘shadow docket.’ On this account, the Court’s willingness to rule on emergency applications endangers ‘consistency’ and ‘transparency,’ thus creating a ‘fog of uncertainty’ about what its rulings mean,” the Becket brief stated. “These are ivory tower objections that partake more of the ‘heaven of legal concepts’ than the actual experience of litigation. Every court in the country (except perhaps traffic court) provides for emergency proceedings, because courts have to resolve time-sensitive and important disputes including, among other things, persistent outrages to the Constitution.” The case stems from a coalition of religious groups contending that Newsom’s restrictions on gatherings during the pandemic discriminated against religious worship. In a 2-1 decision, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit last month held that the limits affected secular and religious activity equally. “There is no indication that the State is applying the restrictions to in-home private religious gatherings any differently than to in-home private secular gatherings,” the court ruled. According to the Becket Fund, the only people concerned with the court’s reliance on the shadow docket are “academics focused solely on the Supreme Court,” while practitioners recognize the rigorousness of the process. “But for practitioners who have to seek temporary restraining orders in district court, or an emergency injunction in a court of appeals, the Supreme Court’s emergency procedures are unfamiliar only in their stringency. Indeed, if anything, this Court’s emergency process is more transparent than many other courts’ procedures,” the brief stated. “Some academics have looked at the Court’s interventions on COVID worship restrictions and complained that the Court is doing too much to protect core constitutional and civil rights. But that gets things exactly backward.” One of those academics, University of Texas Law School professor Steve Vladeck , who recently testified about the shadow docket before the House Judiciary Committee, took issue with the Becket Fund’s assertions. According to Vladeck, who is cited three times in the 12-page brief, the group severely mischaracterized the issues raised by the increased use of the shadow docket. “The objections aren’t to the *existence* of an emergency docket; it goes without saying that every court, including [the Supreme Court], needs one,” he wrote on Twitter. “Rather, the objections are to (1) how often #SCOTUS has used such orders to change the status quo recently; (2) usually *without* any reasoning for the Court; (3) in at least apparent defiance of its own standards for granting such relief; & (4) *sometimes*, with no ‘emergency.’” He added, “Becket may believe that these criticisms are outweighed by the benefits of the *results* in these cases. So be it. But that’s not the same as insinuating, as its amicus brief does, that the criticisms are specious charges (and by folks who don’t know what they’re talking about).” I'll leave to others whether Becket is fairly describing the critics. But it's worth stressing that it's clearly mis-describing the criticisms. The objections aren't to the *existence* of an emergency docket; it goes without saying that every court, including #SCOTUS , needs one. — Steve Vladeck (@steve_vladeck) April 8, 2021 Becket may believe that these criticisms are outweighed by the benefits of the *results* in these cases. So be it. But that's not the same as insinuating, as its amicus brief does, that the criticisms are specious charges (and by folks who don't know what they're talking about). — Steve Vladeck (@steve_vladeck) April 8, 2021 California responded to the April 2 application on Thursday: Plaintiffs ask the Court to apply the Free Exercise Clause to enjoin a public health policy restricting members of more than three households from gathering together. That policy is entirely neutral toward religion; it applies to gatherings for any purpose—secular or religious. On that basis, the courts below properly held that it does not trigger heightened scrutiny and that it comports with the First Amendment. In any event, the State recently announced that the challenged policy will be significantly modified on April 15, one week from today. In light of improvements in the rates of infection, hospitalization, and death, as well the growing number of vaccinated individuals, the State will be substantially relaxing its restrictions on multiple- household gatherings. Under the new policy, plaintiffs will be able to hold the types of gatherings referenced in their emergency application. See, e.g., Application ii, 18 (“Bible studies, prayer meetings, and worship services at their homes” with “eight to twelve individuals”). There is accordingly no basis and no need for the Court to grant injunctive relief at this time. Read the full amicus brief below. Becket SCOTUS Amicus Brief by Law&Crime on Scribd [image via YouTube screengrab] The post Religious Liberty Law Firm Praises SCOTUS ‘Shadow Docket’ in Bid to Take Down California’s COVID Restrictions first appeared on Law & Crime . Religious Liberty Law Firm Praises SCOTUS ‘Shadow Docket’ in Bid to Take Down California’s COVID Restrictions published first on http://realempcol.tumblr.com/rss

[kw-artsleuth]

Outsiders Looking In: Europe and “The Orient”

What do a Felix Bonfils photograph, an oil painting by Jean Leon Gerome and a lithograph engraved by Ingres have in common? All of these artworks were created in the 19th century by French artists, portray scenes and people from the Middle East and are in the collection at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts (Mia). However, if we dig a little deeper we may find some surprising connections. Cultural and political interactions between France and The East during the later half of the 19th century would influence how people and places were depicted by artists who traveled to l’orient (the Orient). In 1830 France captured Algiers, which began the colonization of North Africa and an influx of writers and artists to this “new” colony.  The word “Orient”, which means “East”, was used describe the large regions of North Africa, the Middle East and Asia. Most Europeans did not make distinctions between the people of these regions and ignored the many cultural, ethnic, social and political variations. Orientalism was/is a system used by the West to maintain imperial and cultural superiority over the East by portraying them as uncultured, unchanging, and uncivilized people. This East stood as a symbol of everything that Europeans perceived to be lesser and this helped to support colonial occupation and oppression. Orientalist ideas are present in the artwork of this period, as we will explore in artworks at the Minneapolis Institute of Art (mia). 

Figure 1

Sans titre, femme voilée 

1870-1879

Félix Bonfils

Albumen print

8 13/16 x 6 5/8 in.

Mia

81.77.47

   The development of Photography was especially important to the spread of images of the Middle East. For the first time, Europeans could see with clarity the “exotic wonders” of the Orient. This not only applied to the monuments and landscapes, but also the people. Felix Bonfil’s 1870’s albumin print, Sans titre, femme voilée (Untitled, Veiled Woman)(Fig. 1), is indicative of the types of photographs being taken at this time. The woman in the photograph is completely obscured by cloth as she stands in front of a plain background. She appears to hold her veil from underneath the garment. Unlike commonly worn hijabs or niqabs, the cloth underneath her veil completely obscures her face; she is simply the veiled woman. The woman makes us ask questions: Who is she? What does she look like? This photograph conforms to the narrative of the exotic and mysterious East. Europeans were less interested in realistic depictions of the people who lived there and there everyday lives. They wanted to see something new, something mysterious, something that conformed to their own fantasies about the Orient.

Felix Bonfils’ photographs were widely shared throughout Europe and his “costume studies” were used by artists as models for their paintings. Although this photograph may have been taken in his studio in Beirut, it most likely was not taken by Bonfils. It would have been considered inappropriate for a Muslim woman to have her picture taken by a man. Therefore, it is more probable that Bonfils wife, Marie-Lydie Cabanis, took this photograph and all other photographs of women in the studio. Orientalist art, and photography especially, gives the illusion of authenticity. What we don’t see is the elaborate staging that went into these photographs. It was a very artificial process; clothing and props were often added and the subjects were perfectly posed. Bonfils’ costume studies were a part of a larger European movement to document The East through art, which allowed them to control the narrative. This photograph assumes that this woman would have commonly worn this garment and that her existence was relegated to obscurity and shadow. We now understand that this was simply not true, women did have power in Middle Eastern and African societies. The Veiled Woman was not defined by her anonymity, as this photograph would suggest.

Figure 2

Odalisque 

1825

Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres

Lithograph

11 x 13 3/4 in.

Mia

P.11,022

In the 1825 lithograph by Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres (Fig. 2), we see a woman depicted with almost no clothing at all. This print is a faithful re-creation of Ingres’ popular 1814 oil painting, Grande Odalisque (Fig. 3). Lithography uses a stone or metal plate that is then drawn on and pressed onto paper, creating a print. This allowed for the mass production and circulation of images. Ingres published this and other original artworks of his in 'Album Lithographique' in 1826. The word “odalisque” is a French word that refers to a female slave or concubine. In Odalisque, we see a female reclined on a bed, her only clothing consists of a headdress. She has fine jewelry on her wrist and a peacock fan in her hand, which she drapes across her body. Although her back is turned to us, she makes eye contact with the viewer. The whole room is filled with drapery and in the bottom left-hand corner we see a hookah and an incense burner.

Figure 3

La Grande Odalisque

Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres

1814

Oil Painting

H. 0.91 m; W. 1.62 m

Louvre

R.F. 1158

The myth of the female slave in the harem, although completely unfounded, was a common subject of 19th century artists. This myth allowed Europe to maintain a position of moral superiority over the Orient. They could justify their involvement in this region as an ethical necessity and a civilizing force. There was another, far simpler, reason for the proliferation of this type of imagery, which had to do with its primary audience. French culture at this time, was becoming increasingly moralistic, and any attempts at female nudity in art kept to the categories of myth and legend. Depictions of the harem and nudity within it were considered acceptable because of the geographic and cultural difference that France perceived between The West and The East. The exotic stereotypes are all present in Odalisque, available for the consumption of a European audience. The reality of harem life was much more bland than the fantasy. Nudity was rare in the harem because this was the place where wives raised their children, not a brothel. Ingres, as in the case of most artists, would have never seen the inside of a harem. Odalisque presents to us the narrative of the exotic East, which fulfilled Europe’s desire for sexualized material while maintaining a moral and ethical distance.

Figure 4

The Carpet Merchant

c. 1887

Jean-Léon Gérôme

Oil on canvas

33 7/8 x 27 1/16 in.

Mia

70.40

Jean-Leon Gerome’s paintings were, and continue to be, celebrated for their vibrant colors and hyper-realistic scenes. One of Mia’s more famous holdings is The Carpet Merchant (Fig. 4), which Gerome painted in 1887 after one of his many trips to the Middle East. Two years prior, in 1855, he had visited The Court of the Rug Market in Cairo. On the surface this painting may seem like a faithful re-creation of an event that Gerome actually witnessed, but in reality Gerome took liberties when depicting Oriental scenes. He was more concerned with creating locations that evoked the unchanging “otherness” of the Orient, rather than those that were realistic. 

The Carpet Merchant depicts the sale of elaborate carpets in a large interior room. The merchant gestures towards a prospective buyer, as a group of richly clothed men stand around him, admiring his wares. Carpets lay strewn on the floor in the foreground, while the background is completely consumed by a large, ornate red and green carpet. The many different styles of dress and turbans on display seem to come right out of Bonfils’ costume studies. This painting reveals another aspect of Orientalism; consumerism. Europeans were avid consumers of Oriental goods, even going so far as to dress in Oriental clothing. Carpets, fine jewelry, and furniture were just some of the imports that became available in popular marketplaces such as London. It even became popular to furnish your apartment and wardrobe in the style of the Middle East and live your life in the guise of an Oriental. Of course, what we see in Gerome’s painting is a spectacle of imagination.

These surprising connections between artworks from entirely different mediums shows us how common Orientalist thought was during the 19th Century. The legacy of Orientalism continues to have effects on how Westerners perceive Middle Eastern countries and vice-versa. Contemporary Middle Eastern artists are still grappling with the consequences of this ideology in their art. These artists create work that conveys the complex, dynamic, and culturally rich place that the The East is, as a counterpoint to these static depictions by Orientalist artists.    

[siphen0]

The break we had from The Gifted was a tough pill to swallow for viewers. I mean, how do you really give us that kind of end to a bank heist, and then expect us to sit with anticipation for what comes next for a whole week? That is what you call torture. As I said before, this was one hell of a bank heist the Inner Circle pulled off that took quite the dark turn in spite of what you could have counted as a success.

What followed for the Inner Circle was intense, and I loved the response to Rebecca’s actions. I think most of us would have been pretty offended if anyone accepted what she took the liberty to do on her own. The dream has now been set back when they have blood on their hands. The effort that went into that broadcast of theirs was now useless. And let’s not forget that Reeva is going to take some time to recover from another broken heart. The fallout as a whole was pretty crazy. I had some expectation for the way that the world would respond to the heist, but not like what actually unfolded. It wasn’t a bad development either.

This wasn’t a bad time for us time finally get some backstory for Polaris. There’s much that we knew about her situations with the law, but not much about her growing up. This was a great time to see some of those points in her life where she actually struggled with being bi-polar. It was one thing to know that this was a part of her character, but another thing to actually hear it used to describe her behavior and attitude. At the same time, I it was also appreciated that there was more emphasis put into the fact that her father was a well-known mutant who she never met. You wish they could use Magneto’s name, but then again you also wish they could be able to use the names of a lot of notable mutants. Nonetheless, a solid trip down memory lane since all of this new content added depth to the state of mind that Polaris is currently in. Polaris’ reflection on her troubled relationship with her father really did push her to take some drastic steps to protect Dawn from the world around her. No one could have been prepared for the decision she made, or who would hurt the most in the process.

For the Mutant Underground, this was a big moment for them. This was their time to show that the MU was still relevant despite their numerous losses up to this point. I think most of us will agree that it was about time that Thunderbird began to step up as a leader to take charge of this opportunity. It only sucked that for most of this episode they were on a chase rather than actually doing anything too meaningful for the cause. We knew where this search for the Inner Circle would ultimately lead them by the end of the episode, but who would have guessed they would have tried playing into suspense for the majority of the screen time that they had?

Following the Strucker family hasn’t been the most exciting development, but power exploration is a part of the mutant world that you can’t ignore. Reed, Caitlin and Lauren meeting with Dr. Risman was interesting for the fact that there was no telling how this would turn out for them. She could be helpful, or she could be the latest obstacle for this family when trust is in short supply. The tour we were taken on was an excellent way of lowering everyone’s guard. I would say that for the most part everything about this visit to Risman was textbook. The best to come of their new destination was the way that Lauren reacted to the idea of being normal. A new experience for her, even if what she discovered about Risman put a damper on this fleeting joy. Knowing that Risman not being who you thought she was, obviously meant something bad. It was an interesting development for the role they decided she should play in the mutant world. Not unfamiliar to comic fans, yet bold to try for tv.

The world is on fire. That message came pretty clear through the events of The Gifted “the dreaM”. By the end of this episode, we now have a proper creation of Polaris too. We use that name frequently, but it never quite fit her till this episode where she has come to accept the role she was born into.

The Gifted “the dreaM” Review The break we had from The Gifted was a tough pill to swallow for viewers. I mean, how do you really give us that kind of end to a bank heist, and then expect us to sit with anticipation for what comes next for a whole week?

[yahxxyy]

You Are What You Are Sensing

Sound

We are surrounded by all kinds of sounds. While we are sitting at the table and trying to do something useful, “my mind adheres to the sounds of myself and my environment. In the distance a bulldozer is eating away a hillside while its motor is a cascade of harmonics defining the space between it and the Rock and Roll radio playing in the next room. Sounds of birds, insects, children’s voices and the rustling of trees fleck this space.” Pauline Oliveros describes this hearing sensitivity which we have all experienced in her Some Sound Observations. We can close our eyes, our mouths, avoid touching, but we cannot resist receiving sound. Does it mean hearing is the most important sense in a way, particularly back to when senses have been evolved and enhanced selectively. Does the inability to “turn off” equate to importance? (Tress) Due to evolutionary process, when we cannot see under some situations like darkness, ears work as main part of the alarming system in our survival mode.

What if there was a lack of consistency of sound and vision in real life? Doppler effect explains a physical phenomenon of how we hear the frequency changing depending on the distance of a moving object. I have known this effect since high school, so it is not very surprising to experience ambulance coming with increasing pitch in real life. But I remember the first time I put on my Sony noise cancelling headphones, I was astonished and terrified. Because the surroundings seems irrelevant to what I was hearing at that moment. My roommate was waving at me, I heard cute girls’ singing from my favourite Kpop girl group; my book dropped, I felt the vibration feedback on the floor after a second but I couldn’t hear it. “Why can’t sound be visible?” (Pauline). While looking at the deaf community, a famous event called ASL SLAM that “offers the stage to audience members to come up and rap, rhapsodize and rehash or just relate in sign language.” From my observation in Sign Language class, our teachers tend to amplify their body movements and facial expressions. Sign Language is “a visual rhythm versus auditory rhythm” and “face accounts for 50% of the grammar,” a visual language that visualizes an audible language. Meanwhile, the base languages strongly affect the sign languages (for instance, there is a requirement of translation from Chinese Sign Language to American Sign Language).

Recently, a very interesting fact I have been aware of is that I can hear old tv’s high frequency (around 16khz). While I was approaching these art pieces consisting of a bunch of old televisions or radios. I felt the blood vessels in the back of my brain and temples pumping really hard, and I got headache and dizzy immediately. This situation is kind of rare, because I am supposed to become less sensitive to this high frequency as an adult. The common hearing of range can be heard by humans is 20 hz to 20,000 hz. A gradual loss of sensibility to hearing, especially higher frequencies, is normally relative to age. A test here: http://www.ultrasonic-ringtones.com/. For such a long time, I took it for granted and had assumed that everyone could hear that. Until that day I complained to my friend about the “noise”, and she looked at me in confusion. This special “gift” bugs me so much. I can hear the buzzes of router, outlet, old telephones, etc. The place where I am currently working as an intern is full of electrical equipments, I feel very uncomfortable being surrounded by these little pure high pitch sound. Sometimes my body reacts. For example, the decreasing interest of diet, loss of concentration, and little blurriness of eyesight. Noise cancelling headphone now is a shelter rather than a gadget of immersive entertainment environment. Is it quite unfair? Why do I need to hear this “noise” and realize that to hear this is an excess of hearing?

Those nights, I hear the hiss of extreme silence and buzzes from the gigantic electrical equipments all around me. I often think of Carver’s novel I Could See The Smallest Things. How can I firmly believe hearing the “smallest things” is hearing “noise”? Just because I can sense more, which means the sound is abnormal and irregular? If we are going to answer the question of what is noise? Many people will possibly hesitate and equivocate, due to the subjectivity of individual senses and feelings. Thus, how do we form the perception of noise? What is the fine line between noise and harmony? Can noise be changed to music? Shall we dispose the noise behind music? The presence of noise music indirectly points out that noise and music are closely intertwined. Noise here works as a expressive use to challenge the conventional fine line between musical and nonmusical elements. Lo-fi music refers to low-quality recording music and intentionally introduces noise into its aesthetics. Environmental interference, misplayed notes and phonographic imperfections. It is the coincidences and flaws that create a warmth of harmonic distortion. Ironically, John Cage claims “everything we do is music”, and William Marx played John’s piece 4’33. What William was doing was close the piano and sat for 4 minutes and 33 seconds. Within the 4’33 “silence”, we can hear every slight sound in the environment. “Listening to music is listening to all noise, realizing that its appropriation and control is a reflection of power…..” Jacques Attali describes the relation of music and noise in his essay, Noise and Politics, and argues that music is “at the heart of the progressive rationalization of aesthetics, and it is a refuge for residual irrationality, it is a means of power and a form of entertainment.”

The first experimental artifact is noise recording. I recorded several noisy scenarios in my daily commute, including waiting for metro, walking on the Broadway, passing through World Trade Center, sitting in the working place. The most interesting reflection is not the recordings, it is actually the recording experience itself. I used to wear my headphones, but didn’t wear it this time. The more focused I was, the more sounds I received, then I got a bit panic and lost sense of direction. An evidence that people can “turn on” their volume of sensitivity. And it is possible to “turn off” hearing when you pay full attention to something and sort of gain the ability to shut others. Another case is that if people have been working in a loud work environment for a long time, it is possible for them to hear sounds “such as small tinklings with the engine” after “overcoming fear of the sound” of jet engines (Pauline). Let’s look at it in an opposite way, what if there is an extremely quiet place and how do people feel about staying in that place? Can Silence Actually Drives You Crazy? The video documented how people feel and react when in the extremely silent room (non-reflective, non-echoing) called Anechoic Chamber in BYU. There are several interesting effects and human reactions to notice according to the interview. Without the reverberation in the room, people might feel they are  in a small room and cause claustrophobia. People might get panic because they used to have these sounds around them. And they will try to make up the sounds so that will probably cause hallucination. Most hear the sounds of their bodies, like blood vessels, fluids, heart beat. When you get out of the space, you might be aware of that you are become more sensitive to the world.

In Perfect Hearing, Nubar Alexanian actually considers his tinnitus, somehow, as a grateful thing. The documentary recreates what Nubar is hearing daily. A loud and steady pure tone like La Monte Young’s piece, The Second Dream of the High Tension Wire. “You just have to gonna live with it.” The first doctor he met told him to get used to his tinnitus, because there is no cure for this. Abby, Nubar’s daughter whose hearing loss affected her pronunciation of certain words, said she could not imagine having this tone in her hearing, but then thought it was quite interesting. “It’s not that bad……I haven’t really lived with perfect hearing ever, so I can’t compare……you couldn’t imagine this in your hearing, and I can’t image tinnitus.” Sometimes, she wonders what is like to hear everything perfectly, to “have that entire sound of every, like, aspect of someone’s voice, or music, every note…... would be incredible to me.” An extra, a loss. What is a moderate hearing, or often regarded as perfect hearing?

Light

“Light” is another very interesting topic to look at. What is behind our visual perception? How does light affect our emotions? The metaphor of freedom, hope, liberty. How do lights say hello to each other? In the darkest place. (Shuo Wang) But when lights encounter, there is no darkness. My favourite color is “green”, I tend to choose green clothes, accessories, and gadgets unconsciously, why is that? What is the history behind green? Why does nature use green as its representative color? To ask the first question, I need to find the root by segregating it to several sub-questions: why do people like a specific color? How does color affect people’s mood? What is the color that most people in favor of?

The field trip to Dia: Beacon is very inspiring, bringing me fresh new perspectives to light and space. Because I have never thought of how audience’s involvement can strongly shape the experience of a art piece. The questions of subject-object relations, how “subject’s encounter with his or her surroundings prompts larger revelations about the nature of perception itself.” I was asked to create a prototype to experiment with light. While I was playing around with light and shape, I actually came up with a thinking: is shadow the encounter/interface of light and physical objects? Every night, the cars passes and throws a light to my wall through the shutters. I like the way how light justifies my physical existence through shadows. Shadows amplifies slight vibrations and moves. In this experiment, we can see the monofilament is almost invisible in the light, but only visible in the shadow. I found most of my thoughts following the idea of mediating place, the disruption and intervention through light. I am quite interested in disorienting and dislocating space to create a sense of tension and instability by manipulating light.

Reflection

We are what we are sensing. Our experience of sensing, a primary research of the world, is the scope of our understanding. I was thinking to create an art installation or a wearable hearing aid to expand (“expand” here is not only referring to “add”) people’s hearing. The incorporation of light is uncertain at this phase. The Electrical Walks created by Christina Kubisch is a good approach to reveal hidden phenomenon and bring awareness to the public.

[nofomoartworld]

Hyperallergic: Linda Nochlin, Feminist Art Historian Who Changed the Game, Dies at 86

Linda Nochlin standing in front of her wedding portrait by Philip Pearlstein (photo by Hrag Vartanian for Hyperallergic)

Linda Nochlin, who passed away on Monday at 86 years old, was an art historian, not a bomb-thrower. Nevertheless, when her 1971 essay, ironically titled “Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists?,” appeared in ARTnews that January, it triggered a nuclear chain reaction that reconfigured not just the art world, but seemingly all areas of culture.

An authority challenging authority, Nochlin proved that the institutional barriers encountered by female artists at academies and museums made her question moot. How could there be great women artists if they were once barred from the schools, museums, and genres that conferred greatness? With great clarity and greater wit, Nochlin turned the question around, famously concluding, “The fault lies not in our stars, our hormones, our menstrual cycles, or empty internal spaces, but in our institutions and our education.”

It was my freshman English professor who advised my class to read Nochlin’s essay the winter of that same year. Almost immediately we could feel the explosion of energy — was it fission? — released in other corners of the culture.

Eleven months later, Gloria Steinem and Dorothy Pitman Hughes published Ms. magazine. In 1972, John Berger’s Ways of Seeing, a critique of the implicit ideologies of Western art, aired on BBC television. Then, in 1975, Laura Mulvey’s “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema,” an analysis of how Hollywood films aligned viewers with “the male gaze,” was published in the British journal Screen. We couldn’t prove that Nochlin was a direct influence, but it seemed to many of us that Steinem and Berger and Mulvey stood on her shoulders. For me, Nochlin personified the heroine in Delacroix’s 1830 painting, “Liberty Leading the People.” (And I bet I wasn’t the only one who collaged and Xeroxed the Delacroix, adding Nochlin’s head to Liberty’s body.)

“Linda Leading the People” (image by Benjamin Sutton for Hyperallergic)

Had Nochlin written only “Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists?” she would still be a seminal figure in the history of art. Yet that was not enough for this systematic thinker. If the academies and art institutions were hermetically sealed and needed their doors and windows to open to fresh thinking, then she would make that happen by educating generations of future art historians and curators with an expanded, some would say radical, curriculum. In 1969, she introduced a course at Vassar College (where she herself had received her BA in 1951) titled “The Image of Women in 19th and 20th Century Art,” which explored — among other topics — how male and female artists depicted women differently. (This led to another of her great essays, “Issues of Gender in Cassatt and Eakins.”)

Though both were transformative, it was neither Nochlin’s writing nor her pedagogy that had the most profound effect on me. What rocked my world was how Nochlin literally excavated the basements and archives of museums around the globe to rescue female artists from oblivion. In the 1970s I could name maybe three historic female artists: Mary Cassatt, Kathe Kollwitz, and Georgia O’Keeffe. Nochlin changed that when she co-curated, along with Ann Sutherland Harris, the landmark Women Artists: 1550–1950 exhibition at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art and Brooklyn Museum. They introduced me to Rosa Bonheur, Sonia Delaunay, Alexandra Exter, Artemisia Gentileschi, Berthe Morisot, and Elisabeth Vigée-Lebrun, and 35 other important female painters.

The experience was as life-affirming as it was life changing. And the kick of it was Nochlin showed everyone that yes, indeed, there had been great women artists. That show was the gift that kept on giving, inspiring historians to explore the work by other neglected artists (for instance, Frida Kahlo and Meret Oppenheim) and to reattribute works originally thought to be by men to their female students. For years after that exhibition, women came up to Nochlin and described how the show changed their lives. Who knew before that women were part of an international artistic tradition?

One who never personally encountered Nochlin and read only her eye-opening books (for example, Realism, and her monograph, Courbet) might not know that she was a performative lecturer and cutup. It would be fair to say that she was a performance art historian. At a 1972 meeting of the Collage Art Association in San Francisco, she famously delivered a keynote on “Eroticism and the Image of Woman in 19th Century Art.” Rather puckishly, she compared “Buy My Apples,” a famous 19th-century photograph of a naked woman whose breasts rest on a platter of pommes, to “Buy My Bananas,” a photograph she took of a naked male colleague whose manhood dangles above a platter of the curved yellow fruit. According to those in the room, it was the first experience of many of the male art historians in that room of sexual objectification.

Nochlin was many things: she was a scholar, professor, activist, Francophile, and knowledgeable of all-things Yohji Yamamoto; as well as twice a wife, twice a widow, and twice a mother. First and last, though, she was a historian.

“Nothing, I think, is more interesting, more poignant, and more difficult to seize than the intersection of self and history,” Nochlin wrote in “Starting from Scratch,” the 1994 essay in which she remembers and reconsiders feminist art history and her role in that unfinished enterprise.

Rereading that essay, I realize she wrote her own epitaph (or is it an epigraph?) more eloquent than any I could match.

“In 1969 and the years that followed,” she wrote, “the intersection of myself and history was of a different order. It was no mere passive conjunction of events that united me to the history of that year and the ones that followed, but active engagement and participation, a sense that I, along with many other politicized, and yes, liberated, women, were actually intervening in the historical process and changing history itself: the history of art, of culture, and of institutions, and of consciousness.”

“And this knowledge even today, almost 25 years later, gives us an ongoing sense of achievement and purpose like no other I know of.”

Godspeed, Linda Nochlin. So typical of you to sidestep your own personal success and instead credit collective action.

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