#but the magazines are so cool i’m gonna translate it all using those picture translators LOL that’s what i did for the

[yioh]

GUESS WHAT YA GIRL ORDERED HEHEHEHEHE

[holycow99]

石田お寿司 18/9/21 stream summary Part 3

This is not the full translation of the stream. I only translated the parts I could understand & interpret or parts I found interesting/important. I’m still a beginner in Japanese, so the translations may not be accurate. If you want to repost, please repost at your own risk.

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(t/n: ** = translation may not be accurate, SY= Y****, TS= S******)

83. Ishida bad mouthed the assistant guy from the last stream, not realising that person was in the stream as well. He then asked whether the guy was able to wake up.

84. Someone mentioned Bleach’s author, Kubo sensei, as the one who could draw super fast. He said that being able to draw fast didn’t only include the pace you’re drawing the picture. The panels were also included. Even if you draw fast, if there’s 120 panels, it’d still gonna take time. On the other hand, if there’s only 70 panels, it’d take less time. Then there’s the art style as well. Those who use great amount of Kakeami would take a longer time. He then praised Kubo sensei’s drawing.

(t/n: Kakeami is a method of shading using only parallel lines.)

85. Takahashi Rumiko sensei, the author of Inuyasha was also mentioned as mangaka who drew fast. Ishida mentioned that she’s full of energy. He said young Takahashi Rumiko sensei was cute. She’s still cute now.

86. SY asked what kind of vehicle he wanted to ride. He said he’s scared of trucks. He also didn’t like riding buses. In conclusion, he didn’t wanna ride anything.

87. Ishida said it’s kinda hard to be motivated with digital drawing. He did want to draw on papers, but drawing digitally is infinitely better when he wants to fix or adjust things in his works. He often uses shortcuts as well.

88. He never really felt any sense of accomplishment, so he didn’t understand people who did. He did feel relief (?) when he completed something, but he didn’t understand the feeling of wanting to experience that sense of accomplishment again. He envied those who felt that way since he never felt it.

89. SY read TG manga for the first time the previous day. Ishida was surprised by it and asked him if he thought Ishida was just a streamer. People in the chat were also shocked by it, lol. There were people who only knew about JJ too. Ishida wondered how did SY come across his streams. Sy replied that he just thought Ishida was just someone who drew beautiful illustrations the first time he watched his stream. Ishida was grateful that he’s reading it. It didn’t really matter if he read it or not. When musicians told him that they read TG, he felt like they’re just trying to be considerate, but they probably did read it. It’s okay if they didn’t read it. He always thought that every time he met new people. He wasn’t being humble, it’s just that he preferred if people could just talk to him as usual.

90. Someone said that there were people who got shocked reading TG after they played JJ.  He said it’s because JJ was a combination between his sister & him. He also already through with TG, so the vibe was different. However, he once said in an interview that it was hard for him to get rid off TG vibes inside of him when doing JJ in the early stages. He was teased about that by everyone.  

91. He went to the bathroom for the 3rd time and someone guessed the correct flower.

92. He wants to invite Mr. Kunimitsu and Ms. Towada again.

93. He said 30,000 is quite a lot for a small fry youtuber like him. He’s amazed he could come this far just by his Animal Rap videos and his game streams.

94. He’s looking at the new illustration that Ms. Towada posted on her twitter. He said the illustration must’ve taken a lot of time. That kind of illustration was tough to draw. He said Ms. Towada seemed healthy when they talked recently.

95. It’s better to just have a conversation with Ms. Towada the next time she’s in the stream since he’d get distracted.

96. Takayuki Kondo, Takashina Sarafumi’s VA was streaming at the time and a fan commented that he was praising Ishida in the stream. Ishida wanted to know what he said about him so he asked the fan to record it.** Ishida was grateful about it.

97. A fan commented that Ms. Towada seemed knowledgeable about geography or local stuffs. Ishida told them it’s because she really liked to travel. She probably had gone to most prefectures in Japan. That’s why she’s very knowledgeable in local history.

98. He jokingly said that he already went to Kumamoto trip with 300 fans. He apologised to those who didn’t get invited.

99. SY commented something and Ishida asked him shouldn’t he be doing something at the moment. He hoped SY did something while listening to his stream. He wanted to think the viewers did that since he only talked about trivial stuffs.

100. A lot of people said they weren’t invited. Ishida said that the trip was only for old men. The trip was for those aged 40 years old and above.

101. He mentioned that he’s just gonna thank the viewers for 30,000 subscribers’ celebration, though he’s really grateful for it. He wanna aim for 40,000 as well.

102. Someone mentioned that Simon’s abilities were really cool to the point they wanted to try those abilities. Ishida also stated he wanted to try them.

103. A fan suggested Ishida going on a trip with 300 gals. He said it seemed tiring, but in actuality, he’d probably enjoy it.

104. A fan asked his opinion on anti-natalism. He wasn’t familiar with the term and searched for it. He wondered if the term was brought by Schopenhauer. He said Schopenhauer was just jealous of Hegel since Hegel was really famous. His books were full of criticism on Hegel.

(t/n: Anti-natalism is a principle that’s against reproduction. Anti-natalists believe that giving birth is wrong. Both Schopenhauer & Hegel were philosophers.)

105. His opinion on the subject was that it’s okay if anti-natalists exist. There are people who agree or disagree with the concept. If you don’t wanna have a baby, you don’t need to. If you want to have a baby, then you should go for it. He said recently, he finally understood why declining birth rate is a bad thing.

106. A fan suggested a stream where viewers could also participate to increase subscribers, so he asked what should they do together. People in the chat suggested games like tetris, bomberman, and Smash Bros. He didn’t wanna play Smash Bros cus he didn’t wanna get beaten again.

107. A fan said that a lot of people would be interested in having children if they had money. He said it’s better to provide support towards people who raise children.

108. Mashima Hiro sensei, Fairy Tail’s author, did an online signing session. He wondered how he did that.

109. A fan suggested playing Mario Kart with viewers, but he scared the same thing would happen to him, just like during Smash Bros.

*Ishida reading game recommendations.

101. A fan asked what kind of game should they play so he wouldn’t get his ass beaten. He said it depended on the players. It’s better to gather weak players, so he could be the strongest.

102. A fan suggested a correction session, where Ishida would look through everyone’s own manga and correct errors. But then, everyone had to draw a manga.

103. He’s still not over his Crazy Jump’s idea. He seriously wanted to publish the magazine, lol.

104. People asking him how many pages should they draw and he said just 2 panels.

105. He bought a lot of books about human history.

106. He drank a lot of proteins.

107. He said Hitman is fun if he plays it by himself. He becomes lazy when he streams it, so it feels boring.

108. He wanted to play Detroit again, but he wanted to finish Heavy Rain first. He wanted to play Heavy Rain but the game’s heavy.

109. He wanted to end the stream, but everyone asked him not to.

110. He’s probably gonna do his work or watch movies while trying to sleep after the stream ends.

111. He wanted to end the stream, but he’s really curious about Mama’s last illustration, so he continued playing Made in Wario for a bit. He fanboyed over Mama, Mona, and Penny. He wanted to get penny’s illustration, but he didn’t have enough money to buy items to increase Penny’s level.

112. He wanted to try go to a cabaret club. He wanted to try spending all his money on a cabaret girl. He wanted to go to a host club as well, but he thought he’d probably wasting the hosts’ time since they’d have to serve him.

113. In the end, he’s gonna take a look at Mama’s final illustration by himself. He fanboyed over her one last time.  

Part 1

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Comic buff with a thought, I notice the P5MM art and composition is more striking and closer to p5's art and style than the other manga, which is fine, but kinda... flat. (I find myself thinking there's something missing when I read it, then I look back at P5MM and I notice how there's more clever paneling, imagery, and stylistic choices akin to the games in it (like that one goro panel ya had a rant about) and I realize what's missing) That could be why P5MM is brought up more, just a guess. I dunno how you feel about all that though, I'm curious.

Under the cut cause it gets long cause of pictures:

I am very big on art style and visual presentation. I do actually judge a book by it's cover (manga, game, movie, show, yadda). If I find something pleasing to my eye I'll read it.....even if the contents are trash. Domestic Girlfriend is one, horrible manga (didn't finish, was holding out for Momo, aka best girl, and getting closure for her....then I bounced). Didn't watch the anime (didn't need to I was way ahead in the manga I think), but I know that opening is wasted on it. ldskfjaf Don't invest your time into it, it's not worth it, you would probably learn better morals from P5.......probably. But yeah I found the art style pleasing enough to try it out (I's not amazing by any means, but I like looking at it....or did.....that writing man....dat was bad ;w;).... *waves hands vaguely in air* yeah.

Fun fact, it's why I got into Persona. I happened across an ad for P4 on the PS2 in the Gameinformer magazine, it showed a screenshot from an animated cutscene plus one of the fully body art for the chars and I was like "Yes this is my jam!" (which only doubled down when I read what it was about, and it was a murder mystery and the article also talked up "the mystery of the glasses" which fakldjsalkfs yeah). So yeah it really clicked for me.

Tbh it's why I'm probably going to get back into freaking Bleach, and it's why I got into it and Naruto over One Piece (I don't think I'll ever read ON I'm sorry). Tite Kubo has sexy art what can I say? Can't trust a thing that man writes now but eh. It's also the reason I read a lot of Shojo (and now Yuri) manga, cause their art style is usually what I find very appealing (even if I've read the same gd shojo love story just by a different name for the 1000th time, give me the flowers and sparkly eyes! they are my life blood!)

And I've mentioned I really like Saito's art style. I've (attempted) to color some of his pieces on top of animate some manga frames (most of which I haven't actually published......I...I should....get around to finishing those up....haha...aha....haaaa). I really like his art, it's pleasant. But even with good art, I can still see past it and see what BS it's peddling and it can hamper my enjoyment of it. If I don't look at the context of the scene or the words on the page, I can be down with it. But when I'm reading.......I get annoyed. I balk at anything with Goro. I guffaw whenever Makoto's on screen (cause Saito nails her from P5, she acts useful but really she's useless but the narrative views her as useful it ironically makes her useless......it's the weirdest thing I've ever witnessed >.>). Like Saito really.....gets P5 it seems, down to it's flaws even (tho he can actually make the good parts of P5 shine, or at least parts that P5 failed to execute....execute in a way). But he also makes the flaws.....shine that much harder for me.

Now the Reg manga? it's nothing special art style wise, in fact it starts off VERY wonky, and while still wonky, has gotten a lot....better/cuter (esp Ryu). Not like shojo cute just.......I wanna squish their wittle faces cute (at times when it's not serious).

Like when it comes to Reg Manga these are the two pieces that have appeared in it that I feel kinda hit the P5 mark in terms of style:

(look at Mona, coming into this world like the pustule that he is 8U)

Which isn't much, but it's something. At least Reg's AOA is better looking than the anime. 8U

But I dunno, as the chapters go on, the Mangaka allows for more cuter expressions, and I just like their neat:

(btw I colored that page)

I dunno, it's not as overtly cutsey as Saito:

But they are still charming in a more simple way (without out having them go full chibi), it subtle but it gives it flavor. "Silly why are most, if not all those pics of Ryu and Anne?" I dunno guys maybe you should ask them how their backs are doing, cause they're the ones who are carrying the Reg manga when it comes to this! 8U

Tho I do think the first ch or two of Reg does a better job capturing P5's feel than the rest of the chapters, I think the mangaka is just.....bogged down by exposition and the game's BS that a lot of text on their pages so it almost reads like a novel:

ALots of text, not the most dynamic of framing with the panels. It's kinda eh. I haven't really read the manga past the 2nd dungeon tbh (I mean......as the residential #1 Makoto hater, I think that's fair.....that I'd start to zone out during my least fav dungeon....and then continue zoning out during my 2nd least fav dungeon askfdjaflk)

But during the first two dungeon arcs, I liked how.....bad the PT were at thieving, I liked how green they were. It was obviously a learning process. I also like some of the fight choreo (Saito did the best hand to hand one in the series in P4U's Yu vs Sho....which I actually animated....spoiler.....no I have no released that...my dumbass wants to tempt fate and see if I can redo it in color even tho it took me 4 days non stop to get that animated in just black and white.....but I am a fool so alas 8U). I mean it's not mind blowing, but it was simple and decently thought out, which is more than I feel like we usually get (esp with the anime shows....or at least P4/5's).

But I think what draws me in is....it's lack of P5 style. P5 style has them being still oh so cool despite being new at everything. It's tired me out. P5's how identity is style. It's....style over substance (gonna rile some feathers with that....Cvit(?) vid title). But P5 is overtly stylish, to the point it......weighs on me. Drags me down. Tires me out. I don't think they're cool, I'm bored with it. Ironically, Reg manga lacks that, which......def would make someone (and me usually) give it much of a passing glance. It's very basic I guess. But.....consider me, being in P5 hell, surrounded by all it's nausea inducing stylishness, sees a small break in the hellish hurricane to see.......normalcy. It kinda makes me connect better with the kids (kinda, it's still P5).

They feel like normal kids, trying to do their thing (sometimes trying to look/act cool and failing), and.....it's just the absolute antitheses to P5's brand......and I think that's why I like it. KLFJDSAFLKJA;

Anyway, who knows, maybe when I catch up on Reg in english and re-read MM with the official translation I might change my mind about a few things, or at least how I rank them. But for post length sake, and my sanity sake, I think I should keep the anime and mangas out of the "Which entry do you hate least" post......because I should just make another post where I go into both mangas as well as compare and contrast the anime! :D I'm just delaying some insanity for later haha....

Wait.........I just remember Day Breakers exists......and I liked it....still do....don't have much issue with it. Well shit, that is probably the one entry I hate the least. fklsdjfalkjdfkla;jsL;FJljsfdlskafaj *sobs* nO NO, I committed, and that's just a sad loophole. fdklsajflakfj *sobs* I still need to the game thing, cause let's be honest, the games are where it counts.

So right now my ranking for manga/anime is:

Daybreakers>Reg manga> MM>>>>>>>>>>TV Show Anime and it's OVAs (may the burn in the hell fire from which they spawned)

Oh, one last thing, forgot to put it in but I dunno where to put it now. I like how the manga tones down the pervyness some:

I mean Ryu is a fellow monkey. u_u .......but it's for the best I don't have to see his ape expression. ;w; (iirc the pyramid scene was a lot shorter/faster, but that's by the grace of reading and books rather than animation I suppose).

[adverb-slut]

Operation: Pluck the Peacock (Fanfiction)

Uhm ... apparently this whole thing got deleted?  What?  Okay, here it is again.  Again, just a super dumb thing I wrote for fun!

Title:

Operation: Pluck the Peacock

Summary:

The demon brothers face the immeasurably daunting challenge of trying to photograph Lucifer shirtless.

Genre:

Fluff/Humor/Slice of Life

Rating:

T

Word Count:

4958

-

“Ahem! Ahem! ” Asmodeus chirped from the front of the R.A.D Council Room.  He rapped on the podium in front of him and frowned when he noticed the crowd of people that filled the room had yet to dispel their cacophony of chitchat.  “I said ahem! ”

With that, the remaining six Student Council members, as well as their President, Lord Diavolo, quieted down.

Asmo raised an eyebrow.  “You know, I thought at least you five—” he gestured toward Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Beelzebub, and Belphegor, “—would be eager to get this meeting started.”

Mammon gasped and smirked.  “No kiddin’—totally forgot what this was about for a second there, to be honest.”

Lucifer’s brow furrowed as he noticed the mischievous look that passed between Belphegor and Satan.  

Asmo grinned at his elder brother’s suspicion.

“I’m only here ‘cause Beel ate the router,” Levi grumbled, his head on his desk.  “I can’t play any games without connection and Barbatos said it’d be like, seven hours before he can get a chance to fix everything.”

“Belphie promised me a chocolate-covered cricket chip cookie if I went along with this!” Beel announced cheerfully.

Mammon turned around to face his brother and cocked his head.  “Only one cookie, Beel?  C’mon, I’d think ya’d rather take a steeper offer than that.  I mean—” his smirk only grew as he peeked at Lucifer, “—I think this is gonna be good, but it’ll probably get us in a buncha trouble, too.”

Beel lowered his head and frowned.  “I already ate the rest of the cookies in the box.  Belphie just promised me the last one if I helped you guys with this.”

Asmo snapped his fingers from the podium.  “That’s enough prattling from you two; we’ve got bigger matters to attend t—”

“Okay, I’ve had just about enough of this,” Lucifer decided.  He stood up from his chair as Diavolo watched him eagerly. “Why in the world did you call us here, Asmo?”

Asmodeus scowled.  “I was just about to get to that.”

“Well, don’t meander about your point and get to it, then.”  Lucifer sighed and sat back down.

Feeling rather ruffled, Asmo huffed and said, “I am.  In fact, we already sort of discussed this in a text message conversation awhile back.”  From his back pocket, he pulled out a small, cleverly folded square of paper.  Careful not to chip his nail polish, he unfolded the sheet to reveal a huge poster.

Lucifer rolled his eyes as he read aloud the bright, sparkly pink words on the said poster.  “Operation: Pluck the Peacock.”

“Translation—get Lucifer shirtless,” Satan clarified, closing his eyes and smiling in satisfaction.

“And photograph him,” Belphegor added, with an equally devious grin.

“And sell it!” Mammon concluded.

“The last part’s debatable,” Asmodeus admitted.  “He’s only saying that ‘cause he got so much cash off of Levi’s shirtless pic.”

Leviathan, who did not like to be reminded of his insurmountable internet fame from the picture of his toned swimmer’s body, scowled at Mammon.  “I still am gonna kill you for that.”

Mammon smiled sweetly in response.  “Yeah, and ya can bury me in the most expensive mausoleum there is, what with all the cash I made off of ya.”

Levi’s face grew red, but before he could lunge at his brother, Lord Diavolo rose from his chair, his face gravely serious.  

Lucifer looked incredibly pleased with Diavolo’s somber expression, while the other six demon brothers exchanged irritated glances, worried that the President would shoot their idea down.

“I must say, Asmo, this is a rather frivolous thing to bring to the Student Council floor,” Diavolo said.  As he saw six demon faces fall, he amended, “ But, frivolous is what we’re about here at R.A.D!”

“What? ” Lucifer blanched.  “No, we’re not.”  Attempting to regain his composure, he coughed and said, “With all due respect, Diavolo, this operation is a waste of time.”

Diavolo chuckled as he saw Lucifer’s pout.  “Oh come on, Lucifer, there’s no harm in it.  Besides,” he reasoned, “think of it as a test for you.  A test to see if you can avoid your brothers’ attempts to ‘pluck your peacock.’”

Asmodeus smirked, while Levi blushed and stuttered, “D—don’t say it like that!”

“Then it’s settled, then!”  Mammon cheered. “Operation: Pluck the Peacock is a go!”

-

“Okay, what’s our first order of business?” Satan asked, sitting at his desk, with Belphegor, Leviathan, and Mammon surrounding him.  He peered behind him and sighed. “You can’t eat any of those books, Beel.”

Beelzebub, who was poking around in Satan’s mountain of books, sighed despondently, saying “I was just checking,” before flopping onto the bed.

“If you say so.”  Satan rolled his eyes when he realized that the fifth-born demon was missing, as well.  “Asmo, come on.  This whole operation was your idea.”

“Hold on,” Asmodeus urged, as he too, nosed through Satan’s book collection.  “You really don’t have any fun magazines around here, do you?”

Mammon raised his eyebrows.  “Yeah, smarty-pants Satan’s gonna read some tabloidy stuff like that.  Now, get over here.”

“Oh, calm down,” Asmo replied as he pranced toward the group.  “I already have a foolproof idea.”

Belphegor yawned.  “Oh, so it’s Mammon-proof?”

“Keep talkin’ like that, Belphie,” Mammon warned.  “And I’ll lock ya back up in the attic, again!”

As if on cue, Beelzebub leaped off the bed and curled his hands into fists.  “You wouldn’t dare, Mammon.”

“Gah!  Cool it, Beel!  I was just kidding!”  Mammon yelped, backing into Levi, who growled irately.

Satan sighed.  “Alright, everyone be quiet.  Asmo, what was your idea?”

“Well, it wasn’t an idea, more like, a thought,” Asmo confessed.

Belphegor rolled his eyes.  “Do you even know the difference between a thot and a thought ?”

“Yes, good job, Belphie,” remarked Satan drily.  “Say two homonyms in spoken dialogue and expect us to know the difference.  Very nice.”  

Before Belphegor could hiss a reply, Beel sighed.  “Can everyone just please stop fighting? This whole thing was supposed to be a fun way to pass the time and this isn’t fun.”

Satan nodded.  “Beel’s right. Okay, Asmo, what was your thought ?”

“Well,” Asmodeus began.  “A while back Lucifer was helping me get ready—sometimes he has impeccable taste, you know—and when we went through my closet, I remember that he seemed to be especially fond of this dark blue silk undershirt that I have.  He didn’t say anything, but I could tell he wanted it.”

“That’s it?”  Mammon asked. “Ya wanted to brag about buyin’ silk undershirts?”

Satan massaged his forehead and conked Mammon on the head.  “How can you and your one brain cell miss the point so badly?”  He turned to Asmo and stroked his chin. “So, what you’re saying is, if you can lend him this undershirt and put him in a situation where he could damage it, he’ll take it off, revealing his chest underneath for us to photograph?”

“That’s right!” Asmodeus chirped.

“But what kind of situation would make Lucifer realize that he doesn’t want to ruin the silk and take off the shirt?” Beel wondered.

“We could throw him in a fire,” Belphie suggested, with an innocent grin that absolutely dripped malice.

While the rest of the brothers stared at Belphegor with gaping mouths, Satan snapped his fingers and nodded appreciatively.  “He’s got a point. I mean, we live in Hell—fire is in no short supply. It’s economical, at least.”

“… or we could do something milder,” Levi suggested.  “How about we have someone pretend to drown in R.A.D’s swimming pool and stage it so Lucifer walks by and has to save them?”

Mammon, who had some faith in his elder brother, wondered, “Would he really take time to strip off a silk shirt if someone was drownin’?”

“He’d better,” Asmo glowered.

“Fine.  I suppose that’s a feasible idea, too,” Satan said.  “But who will be the one to fake-drown in the pool?”

“Levi’ll do it,” Mammon, who was not thrilled with his younger brother’s constant death threats, offered.  “I mean, he’s the one who suggested it, after all.”

“I second that,” Belphie agreed.

“I’m not doing this, guys!” Leviathan argued.

“I third it,” Beel replied.  

“Still not gonna do it!” spat Levi.

“I four—” Asmo began before he was interrupted by Satan.

“—We only technically needed two affirmations for this to go through, and we’re wasting time.  Sorry Asmo,” Satan explained. “Alright, Levi, get your swim trunks and acting skills on, because it’s time for Operation: Pluck the Peacock, Attempt One: Drown the Fish!”

“I’m not supposed to represent a fis—” Leviathan insisted, but he was cut off as Beelzebub threw him onto his back and the six made their way over to R.A.D’s swimming pool.

-

“Guys, I just got a text from Lord Diavolo,” Asmo whispered as he, Mammon, Satan, Beel, and Belphie crowded behind the bleachers in the empty R.A.D natatorium, as they watched Leviathan bob up and down in the pool.  “He says when we get the shirtless pics of Lucifer, we should send them to him.”

Belphie scowled.  “I thought you were supposed to ask him if he could ask Lucifer to do some fake Student-Council-related stuff here by the pool.”

Asmodeus huffed.  “I did, and he said he would.  I just thought that information would be more interesting.”

“ Shh! ” hushed Satan when a loud rumble reverberated through the room.  “I hear something.”

Beel blushed.  “Sorry, that was me.”

“No, wait—I actually hear footsteps this time,” Mammon whispered, and sure enough, the group could hear footsteps through the natatorium’s door. 

“Levi!  Start drowning!”  Satan hissed.

“Whatever,” Levi mumbled as he quietly laid his head back in the water and tilted it back.  He mimicked gasping and stiffened his legs, remaining for the most part, quite quiet.

The brothers watched this natural display, before Belphie growled, “That’s not ‘drowning,’ Levi.”

“Yeah, you’ve got to play it up more!  Start coughing and spasming and screaming ‘n’ stuff!” Mammon called.

Leviathan scowled.  “Have you guys ever seen anyone drown before?  No one does that!”

“Do it anyway!  Lucifer doesn’t know that, and besides, there’s nothing wrong with being dramatique! ” Asmo encouraged.

Levi rolled his eyes and muttered, “Fine.”  He took a deep breath, and as soon as the natatorium door creaked open, he began to scream, “ Help!  Someone save me!  I’m drowning! I can’t breathe! ”  He thrashed around in the pool, making the normally stagnant water an array of waves.  

Lucifer walked in, deliberately, and ignoring the ‘drowning’ Levi, knelt down by the pool, took out a small beaker and strip from his pocket, and began to take samples of the water.

“Um, hello! ” Levi groused, splashing even more.  “ I said I’m drowning, here!  What do you think you’re doing?”

“Taking pH samples of the water for Diavolo,” Lucifer replied easily, carefully dribbling a drop of the pool water onto the pH strip.  

“Yeah, but I’m drowning!  Don’t you see me splashing and dying here? ” 

“Levi, you spend an unholy amount of time in your aquarium, are the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy, and not to mention, can breathe underwater.  If you’re going to drown, do it with a little more class.”

“Oh.  Crap, you’re right.”

From behind the bleachers, Mammon shook his head, disheartened.  “I knew we were forgetting something,” he said, which earned him another bonk on the head from Satan.  He wheeled on his brother. “Quit it! Also, I’ve got another plan.  I call it Operation: Pluck the Peacock, Attempt Two: Boil the Bird!”

-

“How did you even know the code to get in here?” Satan wondered as he, Mammon, Beelzebub, Belphegor, and Asmodeus huddled behind a bookcase in Lucifer’s private study.  Leviathan, who caught a cold from spending so much time in the freezing R.A.D pool in their last expedition, couldn’t attend the next phase of the operation.

“Lucky guess,” Mammon shrugged, modest for once.  “And ya did turn the heat up all the way, right, Beel?”

“Yes,” Beel nodded.  “It was set to Light Burn in here before, but I switched it to Dante’s Inferno.  It’s going to take a few minutes to kick in.” 

Asmodeus frowned.  “If the heat ruins my hair, Mammon you’d better be ready to foot my salon bill.”

“Hey!  Why me?” argued the secondborn demon. 

“Because turning up the heat in Lucifer’s study to get him to take off his clothes was your lousy idea,” affirmed Asmo.

“Shut up, you two,” Belphegor hushed in irritation.  “Lucifer’s gonna come into his office any moment and he can’t know we’re in here.”

The five demons stood in silence as they heard footsteps approach the door.

As they heard the automated door slide open, Mammon gagged.  “Holy Father, I’m feelin’ it now—the heat.” A sweat broke out over his body and he fanned himself with his hand furiously.

Satan, who was considerably less sweaty, frowned at Mammon, as Lucifer walked into the room.

The brothers peeked at the eldest through empty spots in the bookcase and watched as Lucifer raised his eyebrows.

“That’s strange,” the firstborn muttered.  “I don’t remember turning the heat on in here.”  He shook his head and sat down at his desk. He worked quietly for a few minutes, before succumbing to the temperature and taking off his cape.

“One layer of clothing down,” Asmo whisper-sung.  “Two more to go.”

Satan nodded and wiped the perspiration off his brow.  “Beel, turn up the heat.”

“Okay.  I’ll set it to Inside of a Just-Cooked Pizza Roll—that’s even hotter than Dante’s Inferno.” Beel agreed.  “Mmm … Pizza Rolls.”  

As Beel turned the heater dial, Mammon slunk to the floor, moving the hair off his forehead and fanning himself even faster, trying to cool himself down.  “I’m beginnin’ to think this was a bad idea.”

Belphegor shook his head.  “I guess the ‘bird’ in Operation: Pluck the Peacock, Attempt Two: Boil the Bird was a ‘crow.’”

“Look, look,” Asmo ushered and gestured toward Lucifer, who was beginning to unbutton his vermillion vest.  “Inside of a Just-Cooked Pizza Roll is hot enough to make him take off another layer of clothing.”

Mammon put his head on his knees, beginning to strip off his clothes, as well.  “I don’t know how much more of this I can take, guys. My head’s startin’ to hurt, now.”

“Too bad,” Satan said unsympathetically as he dragged his brother, whose skin was turning red, off the ground.  “This was your idea.”

“And it seems to be working,” Belphie admitted.  “Beel, turn up the heat; we just need him to take off his shirt, now.”

Beel obediently turned toward the heater dial, again.  “The heat is now going from Inside of a Just-Cooked Pizza Roll to Seat Belt Tongue on a Hot Summer Day.”

The five brothers, all completely drenched in sweat, watched eagerly as Lucifer meticulously began to unbutton the black shirt that was the last layer of clothing on his torso.

But, as his red-nail-polished (sausage) fingers fumbled with the last button, there was a muffled gasp from Mammon as the secondborn collapsed.

Satan raised his eyebrows as he realized what had happened.  “Heatstroke. We’ve got to get him to the infirmary, now.”

Beel grabbed his brother and ushered the remaining three silently out the door of the study without Lucifer seeing them.  

“I guess even demons have their heat tolerances,” Asmo mumbled as the group marched down the House of Lamentation’s corridors, without a picture of Lucifer shirtless to show for their troubles.

-

“Operation: Pluck the Peacock, Attempt Three: Give Him a Cupcake is a terrible name, Beel,” Asmo sighed.  “All the other names for the attempts sounded mysterious—this one is just saying exactly what we’re going to do to him.”

Beel’s brows downturned and he looked down.  “Well, it doesn’t say what I’m going to do with the cupcake.”

Satan raised an eyebrow.  “The name literally says we’re going to ‘give’ it to him, Beel.”

“He means after that,” Belphie retorted, always quick to defend his twin.  “You can’t know that we’re gonna ‘accidentally’ smear the cupcake all down the front of Lucifer’s shirt after we give it to him just from the name.”

Asmo shrugged.  “This whole attempt lacks decorum if you ask me, but I guess it’s all we’ve got.”

“Hopefully your plan works, Beel,” Satan said.  “Mammon’s still in the infirmary and Levi won’t come out of his room since he’s nursing his cold, so we’re dropping like flies here and we still haven’t gotten the picture.”

Beel gulped, not enjoying the pressure that this whole ordeal put on him.  “I hope it works, too.” He fiddled with the frosted pink cupcake that he held in his hands, going against every single one of his instincts to eat it.

The four remaining demons stood aside in the R.A.D hallways, waiting for Lucifer to walk by after his daily meeting with Diavolo.

“Now, Beel,” Satan reminded his brother.  “When you end up smearing the cupcake on Lucifer, make sure you smash the frosting so that it gets on both his vest and the shirt underneath—aim for mostly the upper part of his torso.  It’s after school hours now, so he should be in his everyday clothes and not his uniform.”

Beel nodded, faithfully ignoring the growl of his stomach as he and his brothers waited for Lucifer to walk past them.  

After a few minutes, Belphie spotted a dark figure skulking down the hallway.  “There he is. Go, Beel.”

Beelzebub walked toward his brother and greeted, “Hey, Lucifer.”

Lucifer cocked his head in confusion but smiled demurely at him.  “Beel.”

Painfully, Beel reached out his hand and offered Lucifer the cupcake.  “H—here.” He could barely make out the words; how could he possibly give away food?  “You … you can have this.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow.  “You? Offering me food, Beel?”  He made the connection between this gesture and the operation instantly, and his smile widened.  He pushed Beel’s hand away, and in his gentlest tone said, “No, thank you. Please take it for yourself.”

Beel’s eyes widened in excitement.  “Really?”

Lucifer nodded.  “Yes.” He pulled his brother close and spoke quietly.  “In fact, Beel, drop this whole operation and I’ll buy you a dozen cupcakes.”

Beelzebub stepped away, realizing Lucifer’s ploy.  “I—no, I … can’t.” His stomach growled loudly in protest.

“Two dozen, then.”  

“I—I—I can’t—”

“Three dozen.  And all of the ‘dozens’ will be baker’s dozens.”

“ … Fine.”

From afar, Satan watched Lucifer walk away with Beel and hissed, “That snake.”

Belphegor frowned and stomped on his foot.  “Hey.”

“Not Beel,” Satan reassured.  “Lucifer just stole one of our team members.”

Asmodeus shook his head.  “And now there’s just us three remaining.”  His eyes lit up deviously. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

“If you suggest a threesome, Asmo, I’ll end you,” Belphegor warned.  

Asmo retorted, “Um, excuse me, if I was going to suggest anything like that, I’d do it when there were more of us together so we could do it orgy-style.”

“Well, what were you going to suggest, Asmo?” queried Satan.

Asmodeus grinned deviously.  “Actually I was going to suggest a threesome—Ow! Belphie, kick me again, I dare you!  Anyway, but now I just thought of the answer to getting Lucifer to take his shirt off—sex.”

Belphegor and Satan exchanged a look.  “ … What?” they chorused.

“Just leave it to me.  I propose, Operation: Pluck the Peacock, Attempt Four: Get the Cock!”

-

“This isn’t going to work,” Belphie remarked drily.  He and Satan were poised outside Lucifer’s room, in which Asmo was alone with Lucifer.

Satan shook his head.  “I know. I don’t know what he’s thinking, trying to seduce Lucifer like this.  We know the only person that can make Lucifer go boing! is D— ”

“Wait—shh … I hear something.”  Belphegor had his head pressed up against Lucifer’s door and raised his eyebrows.  “Holy Father … I think … I think I hear Asmo’s ‘Sexy Time’ playlist on the speakers.”

The fourth-eldest brother scrunched his nose.  “You don’t think …?”

Belphegor blanched as he heard Lucifer’s voice through the door.  He repeated the words back to Satan, saying, “‘Oh, Asmo … I’m going to make you feel so many things …’”  His eyes widened. “I hear footsteps, and they’re getting closer. Holy Father, Holy Father, someone’s coming to lock the door.”  He turned to Satan, his eyes wild. “They’re gonna do it!”

“Oh, my …” Satan gulped as he too, heard the footsteps draw near.  “Perhaps we should go.”

Belphie looked conflicted.  “I don’t kn—”

Before he could get very far, the door to Lucifer’s room swung open and Lucifer—fully clothed—marched out, not noticing the two eavesdroppers standing sentinel at his threshold.

“And all of those things I said you’d feel—” Lucifer said, his voice menacingly smooth, as he made his way over to Asmodeus’ room, wielding a rather large, rather sharp pair of scissors.  “—are all going to be variants of pain .”

Asmo sprinted out after him, his face red with exertion.  

Satan flew onto his feet.  “What happened?”

The fifth-born demon paused in his race to say, “He was totally into it—I swear!  Or at least, I thought he was until he said ‘Oh, Asmo … I’m going to make you feel so many things …’ and then walked out with a pair of scissors.  He said he’s gonna cut up all my clothes! I think he knows it was all a plot!” With that, he continued to sprint after Lucifer.

“ … Or maybe he just didn’t want to fool around with Asmodeus,” Belphegor reasoned.

Satan nodded.  “That’s more likely.  And besides … Asmo should be glad Lucifer’s gonna slice up all his clothes.  That way they’re more revealing—which is what he likes, anyway.”

“Yeah, but there goes another member of our team.”   Belphie squinted his eyes at Satan. “Looks like it’s just you and me.”

“ … seems that way.  Any ideas for the next attempt?”

“No.”

“Hm, well, I think I have one, then.”

-

“ … I can’t believe we didn’t think of this before,” Belphie sighed.  “This way is so much easier.”

Satan bobbed his head.  “Yes, Operation: Pluck the Peacock, Attempt Five: Unleash the Magic should be our easiest try, yet.”  He flipped open his spellbook. “What’s really impressive is that I’ve magically found a super-convenient, super-specific curse that instantly vaporizes someone’s shirt and only their shirt through a blast of heat but only if its aimed properly at their heart.”

“Better not show that to Asmo,” Belphegor warned.  “Vaporizing shirts sounds like something he could easily take advantage of.”

Satan pointed to a section of the text in the book.  “No need to worry about that; it says right here that the spell is one-time use only.  Once it’s incanted, the spell can never be used again.”

“Huh, the book also says that if the produced heat isn’t directed at the heart, the heat won’t function as it’s supposed to—that is, to vaporize clothes—but will work as regular heat and cause a fire using whatever the user pointed at as fuel,” Belphie read.

“We have to get this right on the first try, then.  Asmo’s usually the designated photographer, but since he’s too busy crying over his ruined clothes, you better have your D.D.D out to take a picture of Lucifer as I say the spell,” ordered Satan.

Belphie pulled out his device.  “Got it.”

“Alright.” The pair were huddled behind a couch in the Common Room.  Lucifer was seated on the couch across from them. “I’m going to incant the spell right here.  The tip of my pointer finger should glow fiery orange once I’m done. Then, I’ll get up from behind this couch and point my glowing finger at Lucifer’s heart.  I’ll say the release command for the spell, which should cause the heat from my fingers to zoom toward Lucifer and vaporize his shirt. Afterward, you take the picture.”

Belphegor nodded.

Satan continued and muttered aloud from his spellbook, “ In eaque faciam ignis / ignis ardens et lucens tam secura / ut hac flamma quae mando ad conflandum / quem legeret furore libare. ”  With this, Satan rose, his fingertip burning hot with the spell.

Lucifer, who had been studying a page of music on the other Common Room couch, widened his eyes in confusion, as Satan pointed his finger at his brother’s heart.  “What in the Celestial Realm—”

“Hey, everyone!  Your favorite brother Mammon has been released from the infirmary and can now stay in the comforts of his own bed!” was heard from the hallway, just as Satan shouted, “Release command: adolebitque!”  

However, when Satan heard the caterwaul that was Mammon’s voice, he turned behind him to see the commotion.  This caused his entire body—and therefore, the position of his poised finger—to shift. The heated, released spell burst from his fingers and zoomed toward a hand mirror that Asmodeus had left on the coffee table earlier. 

Belphie dutifully snapped a picture of the spell’s effects once it reflected off the mirror and came barreling back at him who incanted it and lit Satan’s hair on fire.

“Belphegor,” Satan said through gritted teeth and he tried to fan out the inferno that was his head.  “Delete that photo immediately.”

-

Well, Operation: Pluck the Peacock was a bust, Belphie thought sleepily, just awakening from a nap in the Music Room.  Normally, his favorite spot to sleep was the Planetarium, but he had been doing his schoolwork and the Music Room helped him concentrate.  Everyone just gave up, it seems, due to some reason or another.  Too bad—having a shirtless picture of Lucifer would be excellent blackmail.

It was nighttime, and Belphegor figured he should be warm in his bed, but he had been kept on his toes all day with the whole operation, and he felt too tired to pry open his eyes and meander back to his room.

So he lay there, half-asleep on one of the Music Room chairs until he heard footsteps wander into the room.

Who the Hell is that? he wondered.  Most of those guys are usually asleep by now.  He opened one of his eyes slightly and closed it immediately when he saw who it was and what they were wearing.  Holy crap, Lucifer doesn’t wear a shirt to bed.  Opening his eyes a crack, he stared in amazement at his brother’s shirtless form as he scrounged the Music Room for what Belphegor assumed to be some late-night classical music; Lucifer, being the ex-Angel of Music, was easily soothed by calming tunes.

Careful not to make any sudden movements, Belphie reached into his sweater pocket and pulled out his D.D.D, ready to take a picture.  Only, as soon as he clicked the button to capture the image, a loud click resounded throughout the room.  

Crap, crap, crap, I forgot to turn off my ringer.

Lucifer, who had just noticed Belphegor’s body slouched in one of the chairs from the noise, sprinted over to his brother as he realized what had occurred.

The firstborn brother grinned maliciously, suddenly transforming into his demon form as he politely spat, “Delete that.  Now.”

-

Diavolo shook his head in disappointment at the Student Council members the next day.  “I assume from your faces that Operation: Pluck the Peacock was a bust?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Satan muttered, shaking his head.  “Even with all of us together, none of us could get Lucifer to take his shirt off.”

Mammon shrugged.  “Hey, the Great Mammon totally could’ve done it, y’know!”

“You literally passed out because of heat.  What kind of demon does that?”  Asmo retorted.

“And don’t count me among all you who failed,” Belphie argued.  “I actually got a shirtless Lucifer picture.  Until he made me delete it, that is.” He turned to glare at brother.

Asmo let out a pertinent hmph and grumbled, “Killjoy.”

Diavolo’s eyes widened.  “Wait—is that true, Lucifer?  Your brothers did complete their challenge?”

“I don’t consider catching me in my pajamas and taking a picture to be ‘completing the challenge,’ Diavolo,” Lucifer reasoned, ignoring the angry stares of his brothers.  “I believe the whole point was for them to cause me to have my shirt off, not me having it off regardless.”

“We never really specified the details,” Beel admitted, after a moment of silence.

Levi looked up from his D.D.D, where he had been playing a mobile gacha game, since Barbatos had fixed the router.  “Yeah, so that technically means that we can clarify the rules, now, if we want.”

Satan nodded and rubbed his chin.  “That’s right. I vote we make it so that we could have photographed Lucifer shirtless, regardless of his reason for being so.”

“I second that,” Belphie agreed.

“I third it,” Beel replied.  

“I four—” Asmo began before he was interrupted by Diavolo.

“—Sorry for cutting you off, Asmodeus, but we only technically needed two affirmations for this to go through,” said Diavolo, his face lighting up.  “That settles it. Lucifer, since you wrongfully deprived me—I mean, your brothers—of a shirtless picture of you yesterday during Operation: Pluck the Peacock, I hereby declare that you must grace us with your glorious shirtless figure right here and now in the R.A.D Council Room!”

As the six brothers cheered, Lucifer’s eyes widened.  “I most certainly will not!”

“You must!  It’s an order!” Diavolo countered.

Lucifer frowned and blushed.  “ … Fine. Just … don’t take any photographs.  I’d rather not have this ridiculous event emblazoned across the internet.”

Once Lucifer had unbuckled the belt of his robelike school uniform and undid the buttons, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor and Diavolo all whipped out their D.D.Ds and captured the most ethereal image of all—Lucifer’s abs.

THE END

[moderndayshinigami]

Here's chapter 2

So. All Might," She smiled over the top of her coffee cup. They were perched atop a building, watching the traffic below them. He glanced over, taking a sip as she collected her thoughts.

"Hhmm. I'm trying to think of things I can ask you that I can't just google... Umm... Favorite color?"

"Yellow. You?" He smiled.

"Mm, blue. How does your hair stay up like that?" She queried

"I lather rinse and repeat every time," he joked. She punched him in the shoulder.

"Why are you such a freeaboo?"

"A what?"

"What's with the American antics?"

He took another sip of tea and shrugged, "i grew up with a American hero movies. Thought it would be great."

"And?" She prompted.

"And?" He asked.

"Is it great? Being a hero?"

"...The best," he beamed. They sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying the sunshine and street noise. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and plugged in headphones.

"Am I being boring? Is she gonna leave? Oh shit, I blew it." All Might thought, panicking.

"Here," she offered a tiny earbud to him, scooting closer. All Might blinked and accepted it, confused.

"I love music, can't go a day without it," she sighed, scrolling through miles of playlists. She found one she liked and hit play, an unfamiliar American song played gently in the background as they returned to people watching. It added a touch of romance to the scene, All Might thought, leaning closer. She smiled and kicked her feet as they dangled over the edge.

"I used to be afraid of heights," she said suddenly, peaking down between her feet, "well, of falling from those heights, I guess."

All Might looked down too, all he saw were people and cars, nothing to be afraid of. He did spot a purse snatcher though. He gently handed her the earbud, "I'll be right back, don't move," he said, settling his drink next to her. He dropped to the street and apprehended the hooligan with little effort. Handing him off to an officer on the next block, he jogged back to their perch. He looked up. Her feet bounced in a rhythm while she listened to her music and sipped her drink. He jumped up to retake his place. She handed him his drink and shuffled closer than before, so he leaned back on his hand, casually placed just behind her far side. She offered him the earbud again and he accepted.

"Shit," she spat a few moments later, jerking out of the calm they had created, "what time is it?"

"Umm, 3:30?" All Might asked, checking his phone. She stood, earbud falling from his ear as she gathered them both together.

"I gotta go. I'm supposed to do this panel for new creators. Um. Hang on, here" she offered him her phone, "put your number in, we can chat." He hesitated.

"I'm not supposed to give out my number... Fans and all that..." He mumbled, smile fading. She looked away and replaced her phone in her pocket.

"Oh. Sorry. Misread... The... Um situation," she cleared her throat, "anyway. I guess then I'll see you later. Some time. You can look up my channel, Valkyrie Cosplays. I usually read the comments so... Maybe we can... Yeah. Anyway. It was really nice to meet you, All Might," she babbled, shaking his hand before turning and running for the far edge of the building, leaping out into the air. A few seconds later, All Might saw her rise far above the buildings and shoot off into the distance.

"Good going, Toshinori. Can't give out your number? What an idiot," he mentally kicked himself for blowing it, "the first girl you talk to in months and you blow her off because of some silly rule." He shook his head and lept of toward the agency to file his reports for the day. He thought about music the rest of the night.

The next morning All Might turned on the radio during his morning workout. The trainer gave him a look, but said nothing as All Might added weights to the bar.

"Goooood mooorning, ladies and gents! I'm your morning host, Present Mic. And heeree we go, kicking off another ten songs in a row to get you through that early morning commute. But first, let's take a caller! Hey, you're on with the Mic! What's your name?"

"Hey. Can I request a song? Can we do this again by NightOwl? Going out to a certain big hero I worked with yesterday. If he's listening, I left you something where we had coffee. Thanks!" The caller said, hanging up.

"Well, looks like some hero's got a secret admirer! Good luck to him and to you, caller! Hey hero! Don't let that one get away! Here's Can we do this again by Night Owl kicking off our ten in a row and maybe somebody's love story," Mic said as the music began. All Might smiled as he lifted to the bouncy pop song. Maybe he hadn't completely blown it yesterday. He'd just have to go find out.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Ok, if he doesn't show up by 9, he didn't hear it and isn't coming," Valkyrie whispered to herself from her perch across the street. She was watching the building they had sat on the day previous hoping to catch a glimpse of the big blonde hero again. She had called the local radio station at 6, hoping to catch him working out.

"A guy like that had to workout, right?" She scowled. "Maybe not; maybe his quirk was just that good."

She sat on the roof, back against an air conditioning unit, waiting, headphones in her ears. At five to nine, she stood, dusting herself off, frowning.

"Damn. Guess he didn't hear it," she grumbled, stretching her arms above her head and packing away her music, "should I take it with me?.... No, just in case." She thought, turning back briefly.

She turned away, taking off from the to roof with a great flap of her wings. All Might watched her soar out of sight and smiled. He stood from his own hiding place down the block and lept over to their spot. He found a flash drive sitting on the wall, "For AM" written on the edge.

He flipped it over, finding a phone number written on it. He smiled, tucking the drive carefully into a pocket.

When he returned home that night he grabbed his laptop and crashed on his couch. He skimmed his official message boards and agency email before turning to yo_tube finding his new favorite channel.

" Hey, Feathered Friends! I'm still here in beautiful Tokyo for the Tokyo Blast fundraiser! I met sooo many cool creators here! Lots of new cosplay ideas too, so new videos should be rolling out when I get back home. I also met someone my Japanese fans probably know, All Might!" She held up a tabloid magazine featuring a photo of the two.

"He was super cool and awesomely nice! Maybe I'll do a fem-cosplay for next year's Blast. It would be awesome to represent such a cool hero. Leave your thoughts in the comments! Any other heros to meet or cosplay?" She looked at the magazine. "I have no idea what this says. Someone translate for me? Thanks so much! Here is the video of the Create and Craft for Noobs panel I was on today! Lots of great tips for beginners! Also, today's tweet along song, Can we do this again by NightOwl, check it out in the description below. I hope a certain hero is watching. He should totally message me on my social media. Byebye! Catch you on the fly!" She winked and gave a peace sign again before the video went to her panel video. He backed up and paused on her face, studying it. He pulled out the little flash drive looking it over again before plugging into his computer. He navigated into the drive's contents, finding a group of mp3s and a video file. He clicked the video.

"Um... Hey! I guess my plan worked, you found the flash drive! I couldn't stop thinking about you, so," she cleared her throat, looking away and blushing, "I made you a playlist." She was sitting in a hotel room, cross legged on the bed, dressed in shorts and a tank top, hair a little messy, like she had been asleep just before. He studied her face as she gathered her thoughts before speaking again, still looking away from the camera.

"All Might? It would be.... Um... Do you think we could.... I want to see you again. Maybe we could take some time to... I dunno, see the sights? Maybe just get another coffee and chat? You're easy to talk to. It's been awhile since I felt like I had someone to talk to like that..." She looked at the lens, giving a small smile. He felt a small flutter in his chest as she ran a hand over her hair, swinging her legs off the bed to take the camera over to the window of her room. She turned the lens to view the Tokyo sky line, just as the sun began to rise. He had watched that same sunrise on his morning run.

"It really is beautiful here. This city is amazing. I wish I could see more of it," she sighed off camera, her profile barely visible in the reflection on the window.

"I... Sorry, I'm rambling. Anyway, there is my cell phone number, so text me. If you want. I'll be here... waiting. I hope to hear from you. Um, bye? I guess for now." She turned the camera back toward her face, smiling before the video cut off. He replayed the video again, watching her closely. She seemed... Sad? No... Lonely. That was it. He played through a couple of songs. He recognized the one they'd listened to the day before, and the song from the radio, and a few more popular songs from the States. He pulled out his phone as he listened, pulling up the contact he had made for her earlier in the day. He opened his messaging app, pausing to think of something to write.

It's fine now, why? Because I am texting you!

He hit send before he could rethink the message. He stared at the phone, waiting. Nothing happened. He pulled out the flash drive and checked the number again. It was correct. He refreshed his messaging app. Still nothing. He laid his phone down on his leg and went back to yo_tube.

"Hey, feathered friends! Tokyo Blast is drawing to a close! Just one more day! I almost don't want to come home, I love this city! The food is soooo amazing, and you all know how I feel about seafood"

She made a sour face and laughed. "I might have to extend my trip by a day or two to see some sights! Would you guys mind too terribly? I promise lots of pictures and cool videos? If this video gets 10000 likes, I'll even eat one of those live octopuses" she shuddered and made another face.

He clicked the like button while she continued on

"So, I got someone to translate the magazine headlines for me. Apparently, All Might and I are secretly dating. To be honest with you guys, I would not mind that," she winked, "you know my type."

A few images of her pointing at muscular blonde men photoshopped onto the screen flashed by, obviously cropped from previous videos.

"But unfortunately, we are not an item. Even if it would be great, I have to come home to you all and make more videos! If we were dating, what would All Might and my ship name be? Anyway, my plan is to take a couple extra days after Tokyo Blast finishes up to sightsee and then I'll be flying home, so videos should be going up in a week or so with new props as well as a gift opening vid when everything ships home. I'll also live stream a couple sights as well as the octopus if you guys are feeling mean! Leave your thoughts in the comments! Here is a quick video of some of the awesome people I met today! Today's tweet along song is Zero to Hero from Hercules. Check it out in the description below. Byebye! Catch you on the fly!" She said, with the wink and peace sign. He sat back as her video from the convention played. He had seen the magazines during the day, but no press had bothered him about it. He scrolled down to the comments.

Take all the time you need! We love you!

Show us ur b00bz

Winged Victory!

Val Might

Eat the octopus, valkyrie! >:}

Vallmight

Wingd vic0ry

God leave All Might out of this your just lookign for subs

You 2 wuld b so cut 2gether! Val Might 4eva

He snorted at a couple, frowning at the more rude comments. All Might shifted checking his phone again. Still no response. Maybe he should just text her again with a 'hey, it's me'?

His phone buzzed with an incoming text. His hands spasmed and he flung it onto the chair across from the couch. He took a deep breath, gathering his wits before setting his laptop aside and grabbing his phone. He unlocked the screen.

Hey, AM! U up for a nite out? New club opening 2nite downtown

~Mic

He sighed harshly. It wasn't even her. He left the message unanswered and went back to his laptop. He clicked through her page, looking for popular uploads. He watched a couple of videos before he worked up the courage to search the name he wanted. He pulled up a new tab, typing in "Val Might" to the search bar. Several links popped up. Mostly news shots of them together after the robbery. There was one still frame of them sitting together on top of the building. They were dangerously close together, closer than he had remembered. He felt the flutter in his chest again. He went to images, most were the news shots, the dangerous picture featured prominently too. What he didn't expect was the fan art. The fan art made him blush. He closed the tab and went back to his fan site message boards, answering a couple questions and listening to his new playlist.

"Maybe she can make me a workout playlist," he mused out loud, bobbing his head to the rhythm. He closed his laptop, standing and stretching. He changed into workout clothes and went for his nightly run. He returned and showered, trying not to think of her sleep shorts and tank top as he did. Failing that, he cranked the water to cold half way through the shower. He toweled off, falling into bed with his phone, scrolling through her videos again. He found her liked videos, most of them being music. The most recent liked video was an old video, the face in the thumbnail all too familiar. He clicked it

I can't believe it! It's only been 10 minutes! He's already saved 100 people!

HAHAHA!

There he is!

It's fine now! Why? Because I am here!

He rolled on his side, stopping the video and staring into space. She went searching for him online the same way he had been. She found THAT video too. Why that one? He started to doze off, thinking about saving her from some faceless evil. The way she would look at him as he swept her up in his arms and kissed her. Her arms wrapping around his neck. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he pressed her against the wall and he--

Jerked himself awake from the dream, taking a deep inhale and releasing a shaky exhale. He looked at the time on his phone, 1 am. He also had a message.

[casually-inlove]

I think he tian as the worst childhood too like maybe is father is the cause of is mother dead is bro already killed people in front of him when he was little he think is dog is dead bc of is bro now he sleep with light on and is very depressed and lonely and is family is in the mafia business he know in the future he gotta do pretty much what is bro doing but I think he gonna take another path has is bro but well see anyways that make me feel like cryy 😭😢

I think you may be onto something, dear anon. I wouldn’t personally go as far as to say that He Tian had the worst childhood, after all, MGS is also a contender for this one; it’s just that their childhoods represent different kinds of shitty-ness. Warning, there’s a ton of text below.

It’s possible that HT’s family business (whatever it is, mafia or not) was the reason why his mother is supposedly dead. There’s a panel depicting one of HT’s nightmares, where he sees himself on a burning yacht. I do believe that his mother might have died there.

It’s also possible that young HT blamed his parent for her death. Such trauma is not easily processed by young children, and various bitter feelings towards his father might stem from it. Now, I’m sure that He Tian’s father isn’t a psycho or a monster, but he probably is an authoritarian figure. The kind that is obsessed with the idea of dynasty. It’s possible that he’s been trying to mould his sons into his likeness, i.e. make them follow in his footsteps, become successors to his business (again, whatever it is). As far as I know, He Cheng has been shown to have mafia connections, but we don’t know yet about their father. With that said, it’s not implausible to suppose that He Tian might have been forced into doing things against his will. I think it was @barabounty who made a post that dealt with translating the captions for some official illustrations in OX artbook. There’s one picture of HT supposedly in his father’s house that is titled “Prisoner”.

And here’s the panel from the manhua, when HT agreed to see his father after He Cheng saved MGS from the angry mob. The interior looks similar, so I suppose it’s one of his father’s houses.

I think the title alone gives an accurate impression of what He Tian was forced to experience. On top of that, let’s look at He Tian’s fighting abilities. I’ve already touched upon that in another post, but his hand-to-hand fighting in so incredible, it almost screams “he was taught”. What kind of family makes their child into a fighting machine? That’s a rhetoric question.

That leads me to believe that since He Tian apparently experienced love through being forced to do something, it might be part of the reason why he used to be so forceful with Momo. He simply doesn’t know any different.

To this day, HT exhibits some signs of post-traumatic stress disorder. Those are his repeating nightmares where he’s literally tossing and screaming in cold sweat (he also shows similar symptoms when dreaming about the incident with that dog, so it’s safe to assume it had been an incredible blow for him). It is literary him experiencing drowning in the open sea (hence why he’s kinda afraid of the darkness). 

However, the symbolism of this scene goes beyond just a life-threatening situation. OX drew it in a very clever way. The yacht is burning, bloodied He Cheng is probably the only surviving member of his family and He Tian is literally refusing to leave. He’s screaming that he wants to stay (with his brother, with his family), but He Cheng symbolically abandons his brother by tossing him into the dark water, literally throwing him at the deep end. In He Tian’s mind, his brother left him alone.

It’s worth noting, that it’s nighttime and young He Tian is apparently wearing pajamas or sleeping clothes. Cue present day and He Tian is still sleeping fully clothed when he’s home alone (as opposed to Momo, who sleeps half-naked). It’s subtly hinting that He Tian doesn’t feel safe – that he expects shit to break out any moment, hence why he’s clothed and ready for the fight-or-flight instinct to kick in. Or maybe I’m looking into it way too much, haha.

The puppy episode is also very telling. I don’t know whether TVtropes ever pointed that out, but the moment when He Cheng tells He Tian that he buried the puppy really fits into the Broken Pedestal trope: He Tian’s faith and trust in his caring older brother are shattered. He felt betrayed. His secret he entrusted to his closest person was betrayed. This is apparently when the crack in their relationship began. The painful thing here is that He Tian apparently started to believe that he couldn’t trust anyone, even those close.

Which brings me to another point. He Tian suffers from profound loneliness. It’s different from the kind of lonely that MGS experienced. True, MGS had been bullied and ostracized, and he has grown that delinquent persona in order to show others that he doesn’t fucking need them, yet he still managed to connect with others, like his gang. He also had a safe harbour at home, with his loving mother.

He Tian had none of it. People don’t see past his money or cool persona, and he’s nearly always surrounded by sycophants that applaud him whatever he does or says. He doesn’t have a safe harbour home: his relationship with his brother and father is broken, and he apparently suffered a lot of emotional neglect and deprivation in his childhood. Hell, his flat doesn’t even have a touch of anything personal, like personal possessions (excluding basketball stuff and a couple of magazines). It’s like he’s refusing to grow attachments (until MGS comes along, and maybe Jian Yi to an extent). It’s also clear why: he’s afraid that it’ll be taken away from him again. Bottom line, HT is deeply alone, and the sad thing is that this loneliness is very much ingrained in him. OX really underscores it by showing He Tian’s apartment: his figure is tiny against its vast space. And really, his smoking habit? A detrimental crutch.

Anyway, I wouldn’t be surprised if in the future chapters OX will show that HT has self-esteem issues. He seems to be living with a burn of failure. He failed to protect something he loved (puppy, mother), hence why he’s trying so hard with Mo. He was ready to protect him to his last drop of blood, even when it was a pretty much suicidal move against the angry mob.

All in all, it’s a sad story, true. I won’t be saying his childhood is worse than the one MGS had; it’s really impossible to compare such things. Comparing them is like comparing apples and oranges: they are simply different. Both bullying/abuse and emotional neglect/abuse have detrimental consequences on psychological and physical levels. Each is horrible in its own way, and both lead to lasting trauma, damaging both sense of self and the ability to form relationships with others.

As for HT working in the family business, yes, it is a possibility. But as I said earlier, I don’t believe his father is as much of a monster as He Tian imagines. True, he may not be a good father, but I’m sure there are things and reasons that He Tian isn’t aware of yet. Or rather, I should put it as the road to hell is paved with good intentions. He Tian’s father undoubtedly wished the best for his son, but his methods clearly were questionable, as was the environment He Tian grew up in. I strongly believe that at some point he shall mend his relationship with He Cheng and his father. At least, there won’t be any animosity.

I’m also sure that He Tian will get better. Of course, it will take A LOT of time and patience, but I’m positive that HT and MGS can heal each other’s wounds and give one another what they had been deprived of.

[deanmiles13]

AND THE AWARD GOES TO... My time on Hollywoods dime.

The Musicians Wanted ad in the back of The Rocket read: 

Guitarist looking to join up with like minded individuals. Influences include Iggy and The Stooges, Sonic Youth, and The Cramps. 

That was all I needed to see. This had to be my guy. I was looking for musicians, having just left Rancid Vat and Alcoholics Unanimous. 

AT SMEGMA STUDIOS WITH RANCID VAT 1992

My own project, for the 1st time. 

Actually, I had another “project band” in Tucson called Butchers 4 Piece. 

I wanted to start a “Dirge” band. Pre “Grunge” The Melvins were pretty much as heavy as you could get. B4P was my need to play heavy guitar and write with my best buddy Abel. We picked on every clique in the scene with the lyrics. 

Having heard the Melvins on tour in 87’, I was blown away. We were in Riverside CA with a band called Twisted. 

The band I was in, Opinion Zero from Tucson, was gonna be on Alchemy Records, which is the label the Melvins 1st album was on.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Mascara_Snake

 SO, these Twisted fellas say… “Hey, you ever heard of these dudes, The Melvins?” 

“Uh…. NO. What kinda name is The MELVINS!!!” 

The sound that came out was a methed out, metal riffing, band that stopped on a dime and then went into a heroin paced dirge that was heavier than Black Sabbath.

I loved it!!! 

Song titles likeThe Heaviness of the Load, Big as a Mountain, Over From Under the Excrement. Man!!!

Anyway… 

I was hoping to get back to doing a HEAVY band again and this ad just spoke to me. The Rocket was a Seattle-Portland Rock magazine, in newsprint form. 

It was the Bible for what was happening throughout each month in Seattle and Portland. Feature articles on local musicians and all the club listings and personal ads! It was priceless, in that sweet spot we had going in the 90’s. 

I get on the old land line phone and end up gettin a hold of this “Jerry” guy and we make plans for him to come over with his guitar to jam. The day comes, he shows up with his guitar, amp and a 6 pack.

We set up in the attic at 27 N. Thompson, where I was living. We make small talk and then I’m propose…

“Lets play a Cramps song!!!” 

I can see this makes him a slightly uncomfortable and he shifts in his seat and says 

“Which one?” 

“Anyone!” I replied. 

He starts to play Goo Goo Muck or Human Fly, and it’s not really all there. Already, I can see the ad was more of a description of bands he was INTO and not really his ability level or influences. 

No worries… 

We jam a bit more, and in my mind, I figure I’ll just keep on looking. After wrapping up our best attempts at a jam, we talk some more. 

Little did I know that I would be spending more time with this guy, inside of a van, than ANY band I have EVER been in.

 He starts by telling me he is from Portland (Salem actually) and had moved to L.A. for a bit and was just getting back to Portland. He played with a band called Trashcan School, a band I knew of and had read about. 

JERRY LA BUCK AND HIS FIRST BORN.

I was impressed!!! 

I asked what he did for work, he said he ran a security company in L.A. 

He told me, mainly set security for movies. 

Now, this IS “Hollywood” and his resume had titles like, oh…

Chopper Chicks From Zombietown

 https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0103959/

Your usual B list movies, I thought, but he explained that movies worked under working titles sometimes to keep people off the scent. You couldn’t say “Yeah, we are filming Rocky 8 but keep it under your lid!” Although that would have been good….

So this all sounded pretty interesting to my ear.

Myself, I had done security before and had actually recently been fired from my job of 3 years. It was my first job in Portland and it’s where I learned Screen Printing. 

My profession, basically. 

It was at Goldsmiths in Old Town on 5th and Burnside.

https://goldsmithcompany.com/our-story/

Anyway, I got fired from there. Can you believe it? 

ON a side note… 

One day I got a call right after this, and it was the daughter of one of the older Vietnamese women that I worked with. She was old school and spoke no english. 

Mooey!!! 

That’s was her name…. 

I loved all 4’5” of her. Such a lovely woman. 

So her daughter called the house one day and it sounds like someone on tour or something.

A foreign voice and kind of broken up, and we are speaking over each other… 

I can’t really think of who I know on tour in Japan. 

It’s Mooey, having her daughter translate to me that she misses me at work and can’t believe they fired me. She said she loved me and I was a good guy. 

Man, I will never forget that phone call EVER.  I tried real hard to learn what I could while I worked with that crew of Vietnamese. What I learned was, that you can come to America after being lost on the ocean for 3 weeks on a raft, and end up owning 3 homes and a small market. That’s just one of the many incredible things I learned. 

Inspiring/Respect

Back to Jerry…. 

He said he wanted to do something similar up here with the movies and security thing. 

He had a few connections with location managers, but what he really needed was security team. 

He had been doing most of all this work by himself. A lot of this was just sitting in a car and watching a trailer or some prop on set. But still, that could be hard work. And he needed help. So, I threw my hat in the ring and said let me know if you end up getting a movie.

 Right away, he had a gig. 

And it was big. 

I wanna say, a 3 month shoot?

Almost all of it being shot in Portland. 

Timothy Hutton, Faye Dunaway, and Murdock from the A-Team were the main actors he said. 

I had no car at the time and Jerry had a 65 Dodge Dart we called the Clam. 

The trunk didn’t latch and had been connected with bungee cords. Every single bump in the road, that thing would start bouncing up and down. It looked like it was talking to you. 

Man, we had barricades and cones and all sorts of stuff in that car.

We had to block off parking spots and various roads at certain hours for shoots. 

(To annoy a Portland that WAS NOT Hollywood friendly)- Pre Portlandia. 

“Go back to California!!!” was the most common one you were guaranteed to hear. 

We had half of Downtown ready to kill us one afternoon. The shot never even made the final cut. 

Another incident we had all lanes of the Marquam Bridge blocked on a Friday morning, at rush hour, just to get a helicopter shot. 4 TIMES AROUND!!!! There was one guy who followed us to the off ramp, down to Old Spaghetti Factory. 

Pretty scary!!! 

I mean SCARY, like when we had to move all the big wigs out of their personal apartments. 

We found dildos, handcuffs and all sorts of stuff. All the crap they were definitely not taking home. 

There were many things I can recall from those long days on my feet, but I’ll just throw a couple at you.

Towards the end of the shoot one day, Timothy Hutton had a tape he wanted the Make Up guys to play. 

It was a tape of prank phone calls. 

The Jerky Boys. 

First time most people had heard that stuff at that point.

Speaking of Make Up, I witnessed nothing short of miracles come out of those Make Up  trailers. 

The magic they can do with the human face.

Speaking of magic and faces… 

I ended up gettin some face time with Faye Dunaway.

I had my Barfly book, by Bukowski, with me and had an angle to get it signed by the time she was done. 

On the last day, it was the day to do it. 

I asked her P.A. and she shut me down. 

NO WAY. 

Well, this WAS her last day and Faye seemed in a really good mood. 

As she was leaving, Some people were  getting autographs. I wasn’t too much concerned how we looked as a security team, as I was a fan and wanted MY book signed. 

I put it in the mix of outreached hand and she looked at it with a surprised expression. 

She said she had not seen this. NICE… 

I had the page marked and she thumbed her way towards it, stopping to remark on certain pictures and relate little stories. Everyone was enraptured and I was the hero.

Man, was her P.A. fuming by this time. 

Faye signed it and handed it back to me with that smile. 

NO WIRE HANGERS!!!

I shrunk off a little awkward but victorious.

I ended up working one last movie with Jerry and Buckeye Security. 

This one was awesome. 

It was…  Even Cowgirls Get The Blues.

From Wiki:

According to film critic/historian Leonard Maltin, "The novel was hopelessly dated, and there is not enough peyote in the entire American Southwest to render this movie comprehensible or endurable...K.D. Lang's score is the picture's sole worthy component.”

Directed by Gus Van Sant. 

A legend in Portland. 

Whole slew of stars in this one. Uma Thurman, Keanu Reeves, Crispin Glover et al. 

Totally different vibe on this movie. 

With Gus, you had a more laid back, punk rock, “we are all in this together” feel. 

Most actors made themselves available to chat up and get to know. 

This set was SO laid back, I remember Gus had some Nitrous Oxide delivered to the Camera Truck for the purpose of “cleaning lenses” he said. 

Well, as soon as they gave a brief rundown of the how’s and what not’s, we all made a B line to get a hit from the tit. 

It was pretty sweet. 

It ended up at his house later that night, I heard, for his NO on 9 benefit party. 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1992_Oregon_Ballot_Measure_9

  The wrap party itself was pretty cool, because Tom Robbins the author of Cowgirls showed up to the tiny little bar they had rented. 

The premier that afternoon, was a trip as well. It was the first showing ever and in the opening credits he had JUST ADDED a dedication to River Phoenix. 

River was in Gus’s “Private Idaho” and was also in Cowgirls. 

Pretty sad day. 

There were a lot of actors in this film that made cameos and also just NW legend types. 

We had hired a kid to help us on security and he told us he was the son of Ken Babbs. 

His name was Simon Babbs, and he was a total sweetheart. 

His father was joined at the hip with Ken Kesey and these cats were the real deal when it came to being there on the edge of counter culture. 

They practiced what they preached, and also I wanted some of the sacred sacrament. 

This was the guy who turned the nation on as far as I’m concerned and punks is hippies.

Well… I put my request in via the son of the gun who road shotgun with Kesey. 

It came through. Nice stuff. 

Years later, I would end up on the Further Bus with Ken Kesey’s son, buying sheets of acid art (non electrified!), but that’s another story.

ON BOARD FURTHR2 WITH ZANE KESEY 

We also had a dude on our crew that was training to be a fire fighter. 

He and his lady had recently split and he was moping around, being a sad sack. 

This really got to him and his good friend could really notice his mood changes etc. 

He actually felt sorry for this hard working kid and saw his determination to be a fire fighter, to train all day and then come and do this stupid job. 

So this friend put pen to paper. 

He told Aaron’s girl that she was really missing out on a good guy and that if she maybe just gave it another shot, who knows?!?! 

I watched this whole thing go down. I then watched him give Aaron the note, to give to his uncertain lover. 

And that “friend” of his was none other than Keanu Reeves. 

That guy was so down to earth and a genuine, righteous dude. 

I don’t know if this whole thing worked for the girl or not, but I sure know it worked for me. 

It was one of the coolest things I’ve seen. 

Really…. From Bill and Ted to Rivers Edge, that guy may come off like a “HImbo”, but I saw just the opposite. Totally aware and compassionate person.

I would like to thank Jerry for letting me make mad money while getting to zip up Sean Young’s dress when she couldn’t reach it. 

For being able to help Crispin Glover get in character. 

He had asked me for a cigarette and I told him “I don’t smoke! I don’t have any cigarettes.” 

He said “Neither do I.” and walked away. 

It was totally Crispin Glover. 

CRISIN GLOVER AUTOGRAPH.

He later walked past me holding a cigarette very awkward and asked me how to hold one. Weird dude for sure.

And, thanks Jerry Sandifer for putting that ad in the Rocket. 

If you hadn’t we would have never met and I would have never met Ken Stevenson. 

It’s this connection that brought my wife and I together. Ken would come to mean so much to me in my life and would later marry me and Darcy. 

Jerry and I would eventually live together for a while, 

THIS IS ME PLAYING JERRY’S GUITAR (WHICH I OWN) PLUS THIS IS AT THE HOUSE WE LIVED IN TOGETHER ON SHERMAN ST. IN BETWEEN CHRIS TENSE FROM POISON IDEA AND THE BLOODMEN HOUSE.

We would also play music in a Halloween themed cover band called the Punkins. So, I guess the ad did work… Just took us a while.

Kind of a full circle thing… 

Friends for life my brother.

[iamartemisday]

To all fans of Lokiday

I’ve been thinking about this a lot over the past few months, weighing the pros and cons and wondering how you would all feel about this.  It was a difficult decision to come to, but I think now is the right time to do a full rewrite of Lokiday.

Below is the new first chapter as I have redone it.  You may notice some significant differences between the original and the new version.  I would like to know your opinion either in a reblog or an ask.  

I understand some of you might not like these changes, but I think if you keep an open mind, you will see why I concluded that it was in the story’s best interest to improve on it in this way.

Thank you, and I hope you all enjoy the brand new Lokiday:

Day 65: Jane Foster

Jane gets a paper cut.

She pauses turning the page of her magazine, and brings her index finger level with her eyes. A neat trail of red blood slides down the pad. She presses her thumb against it.

The wound stings.

She presses harder.

As Shakespeare once said, there's no better start to a story than masochism.

Okay, he probably didn't say that. Would've been fitting if he did, though. Did you guys know he once had a character off herself by swallowing fire? That's almost as cool as when I ran that guy over with the Zamboni.

In case that obvious film reference didn't give it away, this is Deadpool! Here to offer my insightful and witty remarks about this lovely fanfic that is still incomplete despite having begun in 2012.  Because what kind of lazy ass bitch does that? 

Anyway, lso, as I'm sure you've already figured out, this is an April Fool's joke and she's not actually going to rewrite this fic. Just wanted to clear that up in case some of you are nerds who totally fell for it.

If so, hahahaha! You're the butt of the joke. Ha.

When she's done, her fingers stick together, and she meets slight resistance separating them. Her thumb is stained with blood. She flexes the joints experimentally, lips puckered. Jane kisses the air and sucks in a breath. Then, she's on her feet and off the tall lab chair.

Suspense! I love suspense. I need some popcorn. And a chimichanga.

(OBLIGATORY CHIMICHANGA REFERENCE QUOTA: FILLED)

All around her are half finished equations and equipment strewn around haphazardly. The walls are covered in pictures of various constellations she learned about in elementary school. Those not on the wall stick to her shoes when she steps on them. She hasn't cleaned up her lab in a long time. There's no point in trying anymore.

She reaches the sink and runs cool water over her entire hand. She entertains the idea of rubbing soap into the wound. That would hurt like hell.

Oh yeah baby, you do that. Ooooh yeeeeah! You dirty girl.

Jane doesn't do this, but she does marvel at how far gone she already is for the millionth time in what feels like days.

Feels like, because it really should have been days.

It's not, though.

It's just one.

Just one, single, solitary day that's gone by.

Mmphf! Mmphf! Mmphf-mmphf mmpfh.

TRANSLATION: That's some damn good popcorn. Tastes like chicken if chicken was popcorn.

(OBLIGATORY OBSCURE REFERENCE NO ONE WILL GET QUOTA: FILLED)

Mmphf!

TRANSLATION: I'm on a roll!

Jane snorts and walks back to her seat. She swipes the magazine off the table, throwing it at the opposite wall. She doesn't care, she can't read the damn thing anyway.

SHIELD had been so accommodating when sending her off into thinly veiled hiding. They set her up with colleagues that spoke fluent English, and were fairly close to her in age so they'd have plenty to talk about. Her bed had nicer linens than a five star hotel, and the equipment she'd been given to work with had reduced her to an excited child at Disneyland the first time she saw it.

And yet they still couldn't get her one measly magazine in English. How typical.

That reminds me of this one time when I was hunting down this guy in one of those back alley dive bars, and I caught him, and I was like 'Where the fuck is Francis?' And he was like, 'something something not English but probably in the area of please don't kill me Deadpool something.' So I was a bit perturbed and then he tried to run away. I was like, 'fuck no, compadre!' And then I shot him in the dick. Like right in the dick. Wasn't even on purpose. Just a lucky shot I guess.

So yeah, kindred spirits me and Jane right here.

The useless ream of paper hits the floor with a satisfying 'flop', and then Jane feels an icy chill run through her. She shivers, more at the temperature drop than low, ominous chuckle that follows.

Oh oh! I know! I know exactly who it is!

It's Hawkeye!

"That's not polite."

Jane closes her eyes. She doesn't want to look in that mirror on the opposite wall and have to stare at his smarmy face right now. Maybe if she keeps quiet, he'll go away and never come back. Or maybe he'll just talk more.

Wait no, not Hawkeye. No one would ever not be happy to see him. Have you seen his biceps? So dreamy…

"Someone's going to have to pick it up."

"No one comes in here but me," she says. "Even if they did, what do I care?"

Yeah, Loki, what do you take her for? A neat freak? She's a scientist. Scientists and neat freaks go together like fish and cheese. Like Al and workable eyeballs. Like Francis and life.

He tsks. If Jane were two feet taller and a million times stronger, she'd punch his face all the way in and then maybe rip his tongue out for good measure. Let's see him tsk at her then!

Fuck me, that's hot! Hey, what if we made a few tweaks to this story? Like making it a Deadpool/Jane fic? I'm down with that!

Just need to think of a ship name…

"Now, now, Jane Foster, you don't wear apathy well."

I can think of something better for her to wear! It starts with an 'L' and rhymes with 'schmeather bustier!'

She turns around. She was going to eventually, so she might as well get it over with. His bright green eyes stare down at her, a small smile gracing his features. His stance is calm, collected and arrogant. In short, everything Jane expected of him.

Loki was a lot of things, but never a disappointment. Not to her.

Eat your heart out, Ironman! No performance issues here as confirmed by a reliable source!

Now fully facing him, Jane notices he's in full battle garb. He even has that crazy helmet on. Maybe he's going to fight again, or maybe he's got another trick for her up his sleeve. She'd put neither above him. At least now she has a comeback.

"And you don't wear those antlers well, but it's never stopped you."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH SNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!

Burn.

His smile vanishes, and Jane smirks, feeling accomplished. Full blown laughter builds, but she doesn't let it out yet. He exhales through his nose, fingers curling into a ball. A long time ago, this used to terrify her. Now, she just wants to laugh harder.

So what about GunScience? That a good ship name.

Hmm… seems a little plain to me. I'll keep working on it. Back to the story!

She doesn't feel like alienating him further, though, not this time. He hasn't been around for three 'days' and she doesn't care to be apart from him. That just means she has to face the fact that she actually wants him around. It's a feeling equivalent to getting repeatedly kicked in the gut and winded.

Pfft, I could handle him. If you saw what I did to that doucherocket Smith, you'd know.

Hint: It involved narrow appendages being forced in places narrow appendages should not be forced in.

With that in mind, let's make Deadpool/Loki a thing too! Much easier to come up with a ship name.

I give you… FrostMerc! Huh? Huh?

…

Well fine, be that way. I'm not sharing any of my popcorn with you guys now.

Jane moves away from him, walking briskly to the mini-refrigerator in the corner where her endless supply of bottled water is kept. She pulls out two, opens one and tosses the other over her shoulder. She knows he'll catch it.

"So," she says conversationally, as if this super powered mythical figure and potential world conqueror who once almost destroyed her hometown was just another girlfriend of hers. "What's on the agenda for today? You're all dressed up and ready to go. You must have something big planned."

He doesn't answer.

"Gonna cause some destruction?"

He still doesn't answer.

"You know, burn down all the buildings, slaughter all the innocents, kick all the puppies, anything?"

Nothing.

He's still mad that he got burnt to a crisp with that antler's comment.

He got destroyed. Pulverized. Demolished beyond all recognition. The metaphorical narrow appendage is all the way up his-

And now Jane is getting fed up, not to mention confused (definitely not concerned). He's usually way more talkative than this.

Didn't they sew his mouth shut in one of the myths? I think they totally did that once. What a disgusting, reprehensible, unforgivable thing to fucking sew a man's fucking mouth shut.

Amirite? *cough*FuckyouFoxneverforget*cough*

She faces him. His eyes are on her, but his mind is elsewhere. He sees something Jane cannot, something invisible and directly in front of her from the looks of it. She really hates when he gets like that, when he closes off completely and never explains himself. He seems to go back and forth between treating Jane like a person, and like she's just a bug he can squash under his foot. Jane's not exactly in the mood for that today.

When they're still in mid-character development and not sure if they want to be a douchey Not-British Brit, or a dude from that Jane Austen book Not-British Brit.

Just fanfic things.

"Don't tell me you're doing this for me," she says mockingly. If there's one way to get to Loki… "Because I'll be honest with you, you look much better without that helmet on. It's very unflattering."

Oh. My. God. Becky. Like that girl in her plaid and jeans knows anything about fashion.

She blinks her eyes, and he's right in front of her. Jane stares at his armored chest nonchalantly. She wonders when he'll realize the novelty of that trick wore off 'days' ago.

"Do not test me," he growls.

Wait, I got it! AssassinScientist!

…nah, too long. People would just abbreviate it or some shit.  I’m not here for that.

Jane tries to ignore the speeding up of her heartbeat and the building heat in her stomach. Of course he has to use that voice when threatening her. Of course he knows exactly what that husky tone of his does to her every single time. And, of course, this whole miserable situation has turned her into a borderline suicidal masochist who just has to keep pushing him.

Accept it, Jane. Accept… and ye shall be free!

And living the dream of millions of fangirls. That too.

"Just admit that you're as bored as I am," she says. "You probably thought about going after your brother and the Avengers today, but then you realized there's no point. There's no point in anything unless we can find a way out of this."

His frown deepens with every word out of her mouth. His eyebrows knit together in a scowl, and his hands ball into fists. Jane could swear his eyes flash red for a second. It excites her about as much as it used to terrify her, and that's a whole other batch of implications she absolutely must avoid dwelling on. She kind of needs what little sanity she has left, thank you very much.

Sanity? Girl, take it from an expert. Sanity is overrated.

Why, if I was sane, I wouldn't be the ultra hot star of the highest grossing R rated film of all time, now would I?

I didn’t think so.

Jane's already seen his Jotunn form twice, which is two more times than Loki would have liked. He still won't explain why he hates his heritage so much. Jane's asked him more times than she can count, and all she gets is silence, or commands to be silent, or screaming and cursing before he disappears to God only knows where for several 'days' at a time. The most she's ever gotten out of him is that the Frost Giants are savage monsters who would rip the flesh from her bones if she gets too close.

They sound fluffy!

She doesn't really get it. He's not all that scary with blue skin and red eyes and no other noticeable changes in appearance. Hell, the blue people in Avatar were creepier looking. If Jane were to fear Loki for anything, it would be the fact that he's a psychotic mass murderer bent on world domination who could tear her head off with his bare hands if he wanted to. That knowledge, like so many other things, had lost its edge a long time ago. Even when he bares down on her like this, so much bigger than her, eyes speaking of dark intent, Jane can't bring herself to fear him.

Yeah, CGI Smurf mutants really start to lose their effect in the face of all that.

Then again, that might be why they keep making those stupid Smurf movies. You see what desensitization does to you? Now studio hacks think people want more of those despicable balls of malformed play-doh on our screens. This is a national crisis! Wake up America!

(PLEASE NOTE: Neither Deadpool nor the author has ever seen a Smurf movie.)

Hey hey! Don't give it away!

She could still fear what emotions he did bring out in her, though.

"You should watch your tongue around me, Mortal," he says with that voice again. Why always that voice? "You might not like the consequences if you don't."

The underlying threat is palpable. There are so many different ways he could carry it out, too. Jane won't pretend not to know what they are. They spill incoherently into her mind all at once. She knows who Loki is and what he is and what he can do. He's been nothing if not eager to show her in the previous 'days.'

I smell a sex scene!

Jane smiles innocently, he hates that. She runs a hand across his shoulder and down his chest, he likes that.

Must get more popcorn.

She pulls herself closer to him, their faces inches apart. She supports her body with one hand on the table. It doesn't slide away from her as it should. Trust Loki to prepare for this. She doesn't see them leaving this room anytime soon.

Mmphf!

(Translation: Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, and summer's lease hath all too short a date…)

"Really?" She blows in his ear. He loves that. "Because I think you're all talk."

Happy Groundhog Day!

He seizes her by the arms, pulls her down roughly, and then his lips are on hers, hard and unforgiving. A moan is caught in Jane's throat, she doubts he'll relinquish her mouth long enough for her to let it out. His large hands are everywhere at once. One minute, he's fondling her breast through her shirt, the next he's running them up and down her legs, coming so close to her core that Jane feels she'll come apart at the seams if he doesn't touch her soon.

He does know how to tease.

Hey, ladies out there. You know what I like? What I really really like? *wiggles eyebrows*

Puppies! Puppies are adorable, aren't they?

His tongue forces it's way in. There is no fight for dominance this time, because it's clear who is in control and that he intends to keep it that way. Jane's own hands move across the metal of his armor. That damnable armor he just had to wear today. His casual (in the loosest possible sense) clothes are much easier to remove. He usually steps in with that fancy magic of his pretty quickly. In fact, he should have by now. Is this what he meant by 'consequences?'

Loki snakes an arm around her thin waist, hoisting her up and on the table. As soon as Jane's back makes contact, she is hit by a blast of ice cold from below. It doesn't take a scientist to figure out that somewhere in the millisecond it took him to do all this, he also magicked her clothes off. Jane rolls her eyes and thinks of commenting on this, but then his tongue is in her mouth and coherent thought is but a distant dream.

Kittens are also cute. With their little paws and their ears and the traces of demonic evil lurking below the surface.

He gets up on top of her, never once breaking the kiss. She brings her hands up to his warming face and runs her fingers through his thick hair, down the back of his neck, to the collar of his undershirt and dammit all, why is he still dressed?

He smirks against her lips.

"Frustrated, my dear?"

But you know, bunnies have got to top them all in cuteness factor. I cried for days the first time I saw Fatal Attraction.

Jane wants to slap him so badly right now. Instead, she kisses him harder. He groans in response and raises her up a little so her chest is arched into his. He wrenches his lips away and Jane cries out in protest. She stops complaining when he moves down to her neck, and then her breast. As his tongue swirls around her nipple, Jane struggles to come back to herself.

Have I killed the mood yet?

(Yeah, probably)

Awesome! My work here is done! Farewell, my friends- Wait, what? What do you mean the chapter's not over yet?

There is a digital clock on the wall marking the time as ten after four in the afternoon. This gives them plenty of time to go about their routine. To make stiff conversation, to try once again to find out what's happened to them and how to stop it, to descend into yet another pointless argument about nothing, to threaten and be threatened with death and injury and a bunch of other nasty things, to fuck each other senseless in bed and on tables and on the floor and in the shower and against the wall and on top of the bathroom sink and in the mess room and in her direct superior's office (boy, was that ever memorable).

Then the next 'day' comes along and, like everything else around them, the cycle repeats anew.

No changes.

No changes.

Okay this time, I know I've got it! Assassin didn't work, scientist didn't work, but you know what does work?

Deadpane!

Get it? Because it sounds like deadpain, and when I'm out there killing all the monsters and murderers and Francis's of the world, I know I haven't done my job right if there isn't lots of pain!

So now that this hypothetical Me/Jane ship has a proper name, let's get back to the story!

*cough*seriouslythoughshippersgetonthat*cough**cough* Boy, do I have a nasty case of the sniffles today!

Jane sometimes wonders what her friends and family would think if they could see her now, naked with her legs spread underneath a psychopathic Norse God.

They'd be like, fuck yeah, you lucky bitch! Score!

Least I would. Have you seen that tight Hiddleass of Loki's? Almost as nice as Wolverine's.

Like Logan gets a 97 out of 100 while Loki is easily a 96.8. 

Her mother wouldn't like it.

Erik wouldn't like it.

Darcy… would congratulate her on getting laid.

See? Someone gets it.

Jane can't help giggling. Loki, who has been trailing open mouthed kisses up her neck, bites down hard and makes her gasp. She fists his hair as he licks a hot line back up to her mouth. He re-claims it, pulling her head up slightly with one hand while the other continues to travel.

Her arms are around his waist, and he is still fully dressed.

Bastard.

Yeah, bastard. Strip already!

His lips are relentless, his tongue even more so. She feels deft fingers between her legs, and shamelessly moans into his mouth when they stroke her. She writhes beneath him, knowing that's exactly what he wants.

Loki always gets what he wants from her.

After sixty five days of working for it, you would hope.

'Remember Jane,' she tells herself when he strokes her again, and then finally, with a wave of his hand, is as naked as she is. 'Three benefits to dealing with Loki Laufeyson. Remember them!'

I can think of way more than just three, but we only have half a page left.

Benefit number 1: He is, so far, the only other person in the world who knows what's going on.

Except for the reader. Times like this fourth wall breaking would come in handy. Why is it so out of style among fictional characters? I don't understand the world.

She feels the muscles in his back, lean, but rock solid. He's shifted positions, so that his erection is pressed firmly against her.

Benefit number 2: As the only other person who knows what's going on, and as a powerful sorcerer with a genius level intellect, he's also the only other person in the world who can help find a way out of this.

It's funny because when this was written, I'm pretty sure not even the writer knew a way out, didja?

(Fuck off, Deadpool)

Hey now, this was your idea for me to do this.

He removes his lips from hers again, and Jane immediately attacks his neck, returning the favor with a bite of her own. Loki growls in response, and Jane knows he's going to make her pay for that.

She looks forward to it.

Benefit number 3…

*leans forward in anticipation of incredible revelation*

He steadies her hips with his hand, and uses magic to keep the rest of her restrained. Jane finds she can still work her mouth, though, when he thrusts into her and the friction and sheer pleasure of it all makes her scream.

…He's spectacular in bed.

Six out of ten at best. I am not speaking from experience, it's merely because I am obliged to count myself, and I am an outlier whose sexual prowess would make Zeus feel like an awkward virgin.

Sorry, that's just a fact. I don't make the rules.

And with that, I have completed this little venture of mine. Stay tuned next April Fool's Day, when I review the last chapter of Lokiday!

…HA! April Fool's! We all know Artemis is never going to finish anythi-mmm mm. Mmm?! MMMM! MMMMMM!

(And then Deadpool could no longer speak because he suddenly transformed into the first movie version who got his mouth sewn shut!)

MMMMMMMMMMMM!

(Happy April Fool's Day!)

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Star Trek, James Bond, and the trip from science fiction to science fact

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Star Trek, James Bond, and the trip from science fiction to science fact

The following is an excerpt adapted from The Edumacation Book: Amazing Cocktail-Party Science to Impress Your Friends by Andy McElfresh.

Here’s my misspent youth: I spent many, many hours in a camping hammock behind my parents’ house devouring the Science Fiction Hall of Fame series, everything by Arthur C. Clarke, many things by Robert Heinlein, the complete works of Philip K. Dick, and especially issues of the short-lived Galileo magazine. I also read Asimov’s Science Fiction magazine, which was a lot like Alfred Hitchcock’s Suspense Magazine, but with ray guns and the peculiar feature of having a different photo of Isaac Asimov in the upper left corner on each issue. One photo was of Asimov’s feet.

I got into sci-fi when I was a young teenager. That’s when I really started pouring on the steam as a competitive swimmer and a member of a barbershop quartet, which meant I had a lot of free time to read all the way through high school while other young men were spending all those tedious hours exchanging bodily fluids and viruses with young women (or each other). I was filling my head with possible futures, then thinking about them (or singing the baritone parts to one-hundred-year-old songs) for six hours a day in the pool. I never grew taller than 5-foot-6, which ruined my chances of becoming a world-class swimmer, and I never was able to grow a handlebar moustache, which ruined my chances of becoming a professional barbershop quartet singer. (So, thank God.)

I was super into gear, and dreamed of possessing impossible inventions, like I was Miniver Cheevy longing for the Medici gold. A chronosynclastic infundibulum that you could activate under your arm, which would serve as a holster for whatever you wanted to carry and was completely undetectable to anyone in the universe? I wanted. A portal projector that would allow you to walk through any wall, could teleport you anywhere, and somehow regulated the difference in temperature and air pressure? On my wish list. A watch that you could set to go back and undo all of the embarrassing moments in your life? I still want that. In fact, if the Devil is reading this, write my publisher for my email and we can make a deal.

Of course, the coolest stuff came in the dumbest stories. Bad science fiction is defined by constant stops and starts so they can explain the gear. “Tyrone Xandar pulled out his X251 Stratoblaster—a plasma energy pistol so powerful it could melt the metallic fur of a Denebian magmabeast”—stuff like that. Really takes you out of the story.

But there were so many things in fiction, movies, and TV shows that people just took for granted. Cool stuff that was part of their world of the future. Keep in mind that I was a little kid in the 1970s, when everyone thought that polyester clothing and digital watches were pretty awesome. I mean, if you didn’t have to know what the hell the big hand was doing while simultaneously generating projectile BO from the pits of your tight plastic football jersey, it meant the future was something we controlled.

Most of the 1970s, from the Carter administration to The Love Boat, did not work out. But don’t forget that there was a little thing called Star Wars that came along somewhere in there, and it carried on the tradition of using science fiction to tell stories that could have happened to anyone, in a future that had some pretty cool shit.

Star Trek

Food replicator. Universal translator. Tablet computers. Tractor beam. Star Trek was full of firsts when it debuted in the fall of 1966. There is so much wonderful optimism built into the premise of that show, from the Prime Directive (which was broken as many times as it was brought up) to the multicultural Team Benetton–in–space casting (ignore the accents, please) to even featuring the first interracial kiss on US television (though aliens used mind control on Kirk and Uhura to make it happen under protest). And Kirk got so much alien na-na that you know Bones had a special space-penicillin hypospray vial set aside for daily use.

And Star Trek was full of predictions, too, although I’m not sure how far they explored them as concepts. For example, they had a food replicator, from which crew and guests would request such exotic menu items as soup or Earl Grey tea. Give me a food replicator, it’s gonna be surf-and-turf from the Palm with frozen gold-leaf truffle from the Savoy. But in the future, I guess people want to appear humble when talking to a food replicator. Nowadays, there are several versions of food replicators, the most recent being a pizza printer that will work as a vending machine and that NASA is re-outfitting for the International Space Station.

The universal translator was first introduced on Star Trek. It could take any language—even telepathy—and turn it into mid-Atlantic droning with heavy reverb. And you know that disembodied brains are thinking things like “Fifty quatloos on the newcomer,” because even though they completely consist of brain tissue, they twitch around a little bit when they think. Nowadays, we have several translators, the most interesting of which are small handheld units developed by a number of Native American tribes to preserve their dying native tongues. However, Google Translate isn’t there yet. I took the phrase “Is this my favorite puppy I see before me?” and translated it first into Pashto, then Basque, then Sindhi, then Amharic, then back into English, and I got “I was the doll I liked before I saw it before.” It may not be as confusing and bizarre as the translation in Arrival, but Google definitely has some work to do.

Plenty of other cool ideas came out of the Star Trek canon, but we’ll finish up with the holodeck, which was first seen on the 1970s Star Trek animated series but didn’t really enter nerd consciousness until Star Trek: The Next Generation. I always thought the holodeck was both underutilized and not fully thought out, but they had other things to worry about, like constantly letting out Number One’s uniform and the strange sadness Denise Crosby seemed to bring to her role. Why didn’t they use the holodeck as a real-time, planet-to-planet communicator that would make you feel like you were talking to someone in person? No more space leave! What happens on the holodeck stays on the holodeck! Anyway, VR goggles are like the holodeck, according to VR goggle manufacturers, so let’s move on.

James Bond and Ian Fleming

We all know a guy who says that From Russia with Love is the best James Bond movie because it didn’t have a ton of unbelievable gadgets, just a briefcase with a choke wire and some gold sovereigns. That, of course, is a stupid opinion to hold. For one, it is one of the best James Bond movies because Quint from Jaws has blonde hair and kills James Bond–lookalikes for fun like he’s in The Most Dangerous Game. And for two, the gadgets from the Bond movies are super-awesome!

Author Ian Fleming was legit when it came to the spy business. He worked as an intelligence officer for British Naval Intelligence, most notably on Operation Goldeneye, which is where he got the book title and the name of his estate in Jamaica. He probably named the operation, since he was a bird lover and the Goldeneye is a bird. Want more evidence? The author’s name of his favorite bird guidebooks was James F%@$ing Bond [f%@$ing mine].

Fleming knew his stuff when it came to gadgets. Real stuff they had at his time in intelligence included tie-clip cameras (more astonishing is the fact that people wore tie clips), hollow teeth containing cyanide (actually, a Soviet invention), and the microdot, which anybody could make with an ordinary 35mm camera because it was just an incredibly tiny negative—a picture of a picture.

What imaginative bits of Bondiana have survived and flourished as real equipment? How about the exosuit, from the brewery scene in Goldfinger? Or the jetpack from Thunderball, which—while it was wired to a helicopter in the movie—was an actual prototype capable of 30 seconds of flight (working on The Awesome Show, I got to see a demo of the Zapata Flyboard Air that can stay aloft for 30 minutes). The fingerprint scanner in Diamonds Are Forever is now available on your iPhone, though it might be the most easily hacked security measure in history. And let’s not forget the homing beacon also from Goldfinger: Do you have a Tile connected to your keyring yet?

When it comes to fantastic gadgets, however, no Fleming story does it better than Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. That damned car—in addition to tolerating those obnoxious children—was also a boat, a flying car that could hover, was remote controlled and self-driving, and even seemed to have its own artificial intelligence—all characteristics we see in today’s most cutting-edge cars. However, for all that foresight, Fleming never put in any drink holders.

This excerpt was adapted from The Edumacation Book: Amazing Cocktail-Party Science to Impress Your Friends by Andy McElfresh, on sale March 20, 2018.

Written By By Andy McElfresh