#If I think about Ford too much I���ll explode

[diegolabhont]

I didn't mean to fall in love with you

Chapter One

Book: Queen B - Choices (Universe)

Pairing:  Poppy Min-Sinclair x Trans!Male MC  (Beck Hughes)

Genre: None (in this post, al least)

Rating: Anyone can read it, really.

This is me trying to write by and for the Trans community, specially FTM community, meaning, trans guys, but I actually took the liberty to use They/them pronouns for everyone out there who´s interested (Also, the name Beck was the most neutral one I could find, trying to use the cannon Bea Hughes)

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Can someone explain to her how a person who claims to be so disinterested in the ranking was magically climbing to the top twenty?

Poppy didn’t buy it for a second, she always knew Beck were going to be a pain in her ass ever since the first time she saw them looking at her as if they weren’t impressed, but she wasn’t fully aware of how much.

“You don’t have to worry about them, Poppy” Chloe said while the strawberry blonde retouch her make up in the mirror inside her own room. “Beck is just a dude”

“Transphobia much, Chloe?” Veronica murmured playfully, wanting to start drama among her streaming fans.

“No! What I'm saying is… Beck's brain works as a regular dude, right? How much smart can they be?”

“Ha! That´s rich coming from you” Veronica laughed.

Both girls started a discussion about related shit, Beck’s brain, hormones and else while Poppy put on the mascara. Completely silent, thinking.

She treated Beck as a common enemy, she attacked them just like she would to any other lost lamb trying to be the wolf but it was not enough. Even one of those plans exploded in her own face: ruining and breaking Beck's guitar caused that they not only get a flashy and beautiful new one, but sang side by side with the one and only Jaylen Riaz, making a huge performance. Even better than hers, which was something painful and humiliating at the same time, especially after Veronica told her Beck’s YouTube channel had a followers increase, making them even more popular.

Chloe was right on something: Beck’s brain worked like a dude, and if she had learned something was that men in general were manipulable. Take a look at Michael, he was dumb as hell. Liam was a douchebag. Luis, Ford… well, they… they´re there. The only golden boy among them was Carter, and yet, he wasn´t that hard, she just gave him what he wanted in that party and after that, everything ran smoothly.

And that´s what she needed.

Poppy´s look changed, her eyes sparkled in a very malicious way and a smile crossed her face for a split second. She now had a plan, and unexpectedly, it was a Chloe attribution.

“Maybe if we accused them of cheating…?” Chloe suggested, but Poppy knew better.

“That won´t be necessary, Chlo” Poppy intervened for the first time in a while, making both girls look at her intrigued. They knew Poppy, and the little smile she had on her lips as she applied lipstick was a proof. The blonde was onto something juicy. Veronica ended the live and awaited. “Beck will be mine.”

~~X~~

It was kinda lame to her, but finding Beck completely alone under the football stands playing guitar was at least convenient. They were an eye candy from the start, that was a fact. The way that white t-shirt embraced their body was something else to see, her mind went back to the second time she saw them. The sassy rock star kind of look Beck had, even the haircut was perfect, Poppy knew that was a Zoey Wade signature and she kinda thanked her for it. Beck was damn fine, that fact made easier her plan to be honest.

“You know… You do pass pretty well as a man”

Beck stopped playing, literally frozen in place as a statue.

“What did you just say?” Their tone of voice was cold, almost insulted. Did she just get it wrong? No, she´s never wrong. A Queen can´t be wrong, especially a Min-Sinclair queen.

“It was a compliment, Farmsville” she said, rolling her eyes.

“That´s not a compliment” Beck chuckled, putting the guitar aside. “I mean, I don´t mind, but if you are going to use that to the trans community… It~ may not end well” Poppy frowned, a little pissed off. She was doing an effort, no-one had ever heard a compliment from her and this little sh… “But thanks.” Beck offered her a sweet smile a second before turn it into a mocking one. “You do pass pretty well as a woman, too”

“Go fuck yourself!”

“And now she gets it!” They started laughing, making her really angry. Poppy walked away fuming, her head up high and a killer look murdering anyone who dare crossing ways with her.

That stupid ASSHOLE. Did they THINK they could disrespect her?! To HER! She was the number ONE, the fucking RULER of the entire school. Beck was lucky enough to be in her radar and they just throw stupid shit like that!

“To be fair… I did say it first”

“I thought it was a COMPLIMENT” She fight against herself. “What am I? Some trans expert?!”

“No… But I can be. I mean, to destroy my enemy…”

“I have to know them...”

Even thought she was still mad about it, Poppy tapped wildly though her phone. She needed to do something, and she knew just the thing.

“It´s ON, jackass”

~~X~~

POV: Beck

Top fifteen. Everyone was losing their shit because they were now top twenty and Beck... Well... They just didn´t want it.

And yeah, sure, that was kinda good. The students in Belvoire had begun to pay attention to their music as well, Beck even caught a few of them listen to songs Beck wrote and some other cover as well. Their art was taking off and that was awesome, don't get it wrong, that was something Beck wanted for so long, but...

They were afraid.

What if it was because of the stupid ranking?

What if Beck just wasn´t that good, and the only thing people would want was that Beck who studded up against Poppy Min-Sinclaire and lived to tell? Even Zoey, she was talking about popularity, Belvoire elite, and some “Person to watch-out” or shit Award which yes, was huge! But… Beck really was afraid that it was Beck who puts the music high and not backwards.

What if…

What if Poppy really messes all up?

“You know… You do pass pretty well as a man”

Poppy´s words in their mind caught Beck off guard. What was her deal anyway? She came and said some weird shit, and...

Actually, everything in that interaction was weird as fuck. And not just that, Beck meet Taylor by accident later that day in the ice cream shop, they both talked a little and they found out she had a big crush onto some random guy Beck didn´t knew before.

Of course Beck was the matchmaker! They even helped her by carrying those stupid anti-diarrheic pills to the lion´s den. Ok, yes, maybe~ Beck should´ve had given them to someone and not just let them in the front door… But it wasn´t their fault that The T found out!! Poppy was losing it, and of course it was them to blame.

Why can´t they just have a normal life… with normal problems… and not… this?

“I´m dead… I´m actually dead…” Beck thought while burying their head on their hands, tired.

“Beck? Hello? I assume you heard the details of the assignment.”

“What?”

“Ehm… Yeah! Totally” Beck said with a “confident” smile that nobody believed in, Professor Roberta even frowned before going back to the lecture, while Beck tried uselessly to catch something about the assignment from their classmates´ laptops. She hated Beck anyway, but it wasn´t good news to be always in her bad side.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! … What did she say?”

“Mass comm is all about reaching people far and wide, so this project is meant to give the voiceless in our own community a voice by…”

A penetrant gaze nailed their nape, giving them chills. Beck immediately looked for that one hawk over them and not to their surprise the person found on the other side was that deadly beauty called Poppy Min-Sinclair, watching Beck as they´re a prey. Feeling really drove up the wall, Beck winked playfully at her, expecting her to look away or some rude expression towards them.

But no.

Scaring the shit out of them, Poppy actually smiled back at Beck. A sweet, flirty smile that left them feeling their heart racing as crazy and their cheeks burning red, her dark eyes so into theirs that all their system collapsed... What was happening?

“Earth to Beck!”

Professor Roberta yelled, making Beck jump a little in their sit, breaking all eye contact between them both. When did Beck turn their body completely to watch Poppy? Of course the professor was mad, Beck was practically giving her their back! As faster as they could, Beck took the right seat, being even more embarrassed now while Poppy let go a chuckle, they could hear her from any other laughter just as clearly as if she were so close.

“Oh, sorry. I… Sorry”

“Find your community service project partner please” Professor said. Beck gathered their things and head into the aisle, looking around, praying to find someone whiling to work with them and, mainly, explain to them what was that project about. The thing was everyone had already a partner. Everyone except for…

The strawberry blonde was gazing Beck as sure as someone who´s waiting for this chance can be. Smiling that same smile that caused them to feel butterflies in their stomach… Beck wasn´t sure if they were aroused… or scared.

“Professor Roberta… I need a new partner” Beck practically begged. “I´m sorry. I just can´t work with Poppy.”

The pretty but odd teacher was about to say something. Something bad based on the expression on her face, but a perfect made-up laughter cut her words, as Beck was feeling how a soft and warm hand hooked to their arm.

“Nonsense, professor! I am pretty sure we´ll be working just fine.” Poppy said, a relaxed expression drawn on her porcelain face. “Let´s go, Hughes.”

Ok, Beck was now scared. As both of them walked out the classroom, Beck´s brain was running wild, thinking about every and each form Poppy could use to disappear them from the face of the earth. Ironic, Beck survived Farmsville but they´ll be totally done in New York. Ha! Life hates them.

“Listen, I know what you are thinking…”

Really?

“... but the last thing I need right now is having my GPA taken away. So I´ve already figured it all out. We´re doing an animal shelter commercial for our project. I can ask daddy to borrow the equipment and crew”

“Didn´t think of you as a daddy person” Beck laughed, a little more repose.

“Shut the fuck up, Farmsville. This will be easy, so all I need you to do is… Oh my god.”

Poppy stared at her phone completely in shock, color draining from her face as it was sucked by a dementor.

“I have to go. We can figure out the deets later, I´ll text you where to meet me”

Then, she just left. Beck took a deep breath and let out a hiss.

“Gosh, this school is going to kill me!”

They said, who would have thought a class could be so much?

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Next

[thelastspeecher]

I can’t think of a good title, so I’m not gonna give this a title.

A little while ago, I got in a major mood for my Stay-at-Home Stan AU (my AU where Stan becomes a stay-at-home dad), to the point that I wanted to write a thing for it, but couldn’t think of one.  Luckily, @bluestuffeh came up with a premise.  So, here’s Stan, the legendary stay-at-home dad, helping Ford, the legendary mess, with a parenting problem.

Enjoy.

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              Stan strolled into the house, whistling.  He dropped his keys in the bowl by the door.

              Well, this is what life is gonna be like when the girls finally start school.  His hands on his hips, he looked around the living room.  Danny and Daisy had just been dropped off at some summer program being thrown by the local library.  They were finally old enough to do the activities alone, so Stan was trying to get used to spending the day at home on his own.  After all, they would be starting kindergarten in the fall.

              “What am I supposed to do?” Stan muttered to himself.

              It’s been so long since I did something other than take care of them. I forgot what I can do with free time.  Stan frowned thoughtfully.  Hobbies are a thing, right?  I haven’t been able to have hobbies for five years.  What did I like before I became a dad?  I know there was at least one thing.

              “You could always do some cleaning,” Angie’s voice said in the back of Stan’s mind.  Stan thought on that for a moment.

              Nah.  Trying to remember what hobbies I have is better.  Before Stan could spend any more time thinking, the phone rang.  He sighed in relief.  Good.  Coming up with hobbies sucks.  He walked over to the phone.

              “McGucket residence,” he said, picking up the phone.  “Stan speaking.”

              “Stanley, good, I- I need your help,” Ford’s voice said desperately. Stan pinched the bridge of his nose.

              “What did you do this time?”

              “Nothing!”

              “Really?  The last two times you needed my help, it was ‘cause ya made a deal with a demon or weren’t observing proper lab safety.”

              “I disagree with Angie’s assessment of my behavior in the lab.”

              “She’s got a PhD, too, Ford.  And I trust her a bit more with science, since she’s never grown wings.”

              “Despite you calling her your angel,” Ford muttered.  Stan flushed.  During his last visit, Ford had overheard Stan trying out new pet names for Angie.  And he refused to let Stan live it down.

              “All right, guess ya don’t need my help, then,” Stan said briskly.

              “No, wait!  I- I really do,” Ford said quickly.  “But it’s not because of something affecting me.  It’s Tate.”  That got Stan’s attention.  He straightened.

              “Did another supernatural whatsit try to adopt him?” he asked.

              “No, he’s sick.”

              “Okay.  What’s he sick with?”

              “He claims it’s the flu, but his symptoms don’t align with influenza.” Ford’s panic was evident in his voice. Stan could picture Ford running his hands through his hair, practically pulling it out in distress.  “He also says he’s had it before!  Stanley, what’s-”

              “Geez, Sixer, calm down,” Stan said, exasperated.  “Kids get sick all the time.  Don’t you remember how often we puked our guts up when we were Tate’s age?”

              “Um.  Yes?”

              “Look, it’s probably nothing.  Just ask Fidds what to do.”

              “He’s not here.”

              “Where is he?”

              “A conference.”  Ford’s voice rose in pitch.  “Stanley, it’s the first time I’ve been left in charge of Tate on my own!”

              “Really?” Stan asked.  “He’s lived in Gravity Falls with you and Fidds for a year.”  Ford spluttered for a few moments.

              “I- his ex-step-mother doesn’t have much faith in my childcare abilities, and she still has partial custody of him, so legally she has a say in who watches him.”

              “Right.”  Stan rubbed his forehead.  “Jenny still hates your guts, huh?”

              “Unfortunately, yes.  Stanley, I don’t know what to do, what if Tate’s seriously ill?  He’s clearly delirious if he’s claiming he has influenza and he’s vomiting,” Ford said in a rush.  Stan raised an eyebrow.

              “He’s puking?”

              “Yes!  I know we vomited as children, but-”

              “Ford.  He doesn’t have the actual flu.”

              “Of course not, his symptoms-”

              “He’s got stomach flu.”

              “…What?” Ford asked, dumbfounded.  Stan leaned against the wall, playing with the phone cord.

              “Stomach flu.  The girls had it last year.  I’ve seen some messes, but twin toddlers exploding from both ends?  Might have been the worst.”

              “What’s a stomach flu?”

              “You-”  Stan kneaded his forehead.  “How do you not know what the stomach flu is?  You’ve got a doctorate!”

              “Not in medicine!”

              “Yeah, but-” Stan huffed.  “You’re falling into that trap of having so much education you forgot the basics.”

              “Pardon?”

              “Angie does it sometimes.  She says that because she’s learned so much in her specialty, she sometimes forgets the things people first learn.”  Stan adjusted his position.  “Anyways, stomach flu is called…I forget the science word for it.  It’s not the actual flu, it’s an infection of your digestive tract. Or something like that.”  Stan frowned.  “Uh, the girls had…I think it’s called a rotavirus.  Most adults aren’t very vulnerable to it, but kids get them a lot. Could be what Tate has.  If it is, all ya gotta do is manage his symptoms and wait for him to get better on his own.”  Ford was silent for a moment.

              “How do you know so much about this?” he asked quietly.

              “Whenever anyone in her family gets sick, Angie goes nuts researching the illness.”  Stan sighed. “It always makes her more paranoid, so I don’t really like it.”

              “Why do you let her do it?”

              “I can’t ‘let’ my wife do anything, Stanford.”  Stan stretched.  “It’s not super harmful for her to do, so I just complain a bit.  She usually backs off once she realizes what she’s doing.  Anyways, when the girls got their stomach bug, she rattled off all sortsa stuff about it. Even while she was sleeping.”

              “She’s a sleeptalker?”

              “Yeah.”  Stan grinned. “It’s somethin’ else when someone who’s dead asleep is giving you a science lecture.”

              “Hmm.”  Ford cleared his throat.  “So, this is likely a viral intestinal infection?”

              “Probably.”

              “So there’s no reason for me to take him to the emergency room?”

              “Sweet Moses, Ford, no!  Don’t do that!” Stan yelped.

              “Wh-”

              “You’ll just run up a bill and the docs ‘ll send ya away with Pepto-Bismol. Not to mention, shit sometimes goes down at ERs.  Just keep him home and make sure he drinks plenty of fluids.  Make him soup, give him juice and water.  Has he had the Hershey squirts yet?” Stan asked.  Ford let out a long-suffering sigh.

              “No, Tate has not had any diarrhea.”

              “He probably will.  Be prepared for that.”

              “Great,” Ford mumbled.  “…Thank you, Stanley.”

              “No problem, Sixer.”  Stan chewed on his lip.  “Next time-”

              “Next time?!”

              “Ford, I literally told you five minutes ago that kids get sick all the time. Kids are germ factories that play with other germ factories and don’t know not to eat dirt.”

              “I knew not to eat dirt,” Ford muttered.

              “Well, not all kids do.  Tate’s gonna get sick again.  And again. And again.  Part of being a parent is dealing with that.  Calmly.  You can’t act like the world’s ending every time Tate pukes.  Take it in stride.  Give him some 7-Up and crackers, let him lay down and watch TV, and just keep an eye on him. Nine times outta ten, kids puke once and then they’re fine.”

              “What if Tate gets worse?”

              “Then you take him to see the doc.  But you don’t make a big deal outta it.  Kids pick up on how grownups act.  If a grownup is panicking, kids are gonna panic, too.  Even if you wanna scream, you keep it to yourself.”  Ford was silent.

              “I feel I’ve become a fool, Stanley,” he said after a moment.

              “Nah.  You’re just a first-time parent.  You think I was this good at being a dad when I started out?  No!  I freaked out all the time!  You get used to it.  And if you feel like you’re doing something wrong, you can always call me.  The girls are doing a thing at the library all summer, so I’m home alone during the day.”  Stan grinned.  “I kinda like telling my genius brother things he didn’t know, anyways.”

              “Ha ha, very funny,” Ford said.  Stan could hear the eye roll in Ford’s voice.  “I…I really do appreciate that, though.  Fiddleford will be gone for a few more days.  I’ve prepared as best as I can, but-”

              “Kids torpedo all your plans,” Stan said, nodding.

              “Yes.”

              “Now that you’ve calmed down a bit, you should probably go check on Tate. Make sure you set him up near a bathroom and make him some soup.  Tate likes the canned cream of chicken.”

              “I believe we have some of that in the kitchen.”

              “Warm it up for him, then.  And get off the phone.  I’ll help you with big things, but I’m not gonna hold your hand for this part.  You know how to take care of a stomach bug.”

              “…Yes, I do.”  Ford chuckled softly.  “Suddenly, I can recall all of the times we became sick with clarity.”

              “Yep.  Panicking makes you ignore things sometimes.”

              “You are correct.”  Ford took a breath.  “Thank you, again.”

              “No problem.  Go take care of your kid.”

              “I will.  Goodbye.”

              “Bye.”  Stan hung up the phone.  He looked up at the ceiling blankly for a few minutes, wistfully remembering some of Danny and Daisy’s firsts.  After a while, he broke free of the memories.  He was glad to have had those moments with his daughters, but he was also glad they were in the past.  Panicked phone calls to Angie’s parents weren’t something he missed.  He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

              “So…what hobbies do dads have?”

[fly-pow-bye]

ThunderCats Roar! - “Exodus (Parts 1 & 2)”

Co-Executive Producer: Victor Courtright

Supervising Producer: Nate Cash

Producer: Marly Halpern-Graser

Story by: Joan Ford

Teleplay by: Victor Courtright

Directed by: George Kaprielian

Well, here it is, whether one likes it or not.

ThunderCats Roar seems to have all the hallmarks of a bad reboot: a silly art style that's just aping OK KO, a completely different and comedic tone for a show that tried to do something serious the last time, and the teaser for this show, which is one of the most disliked videos on YouTube, is just the reboot's showrunner talking about how cool it is.

This show turned out to be a really like it or hate it affair from what I can tell. The people that hate it are really vocal about it, too. What camp do I go in? Let's find out.

The new series begins with some narration. narrator talks about what a lovely planet Thundara is. Even people who aren't familiar with the original is thinking "it's going to explode, it's going to explode, it's going to explode," and sure enough, it does. The narrator doesn't seem to be phased by this at all, saying "everything explodes someday!" That seems insensitive.

We then zoom to the ThunderCats, and I am glad to say that they are wearing the same costumes we know they wear. Thank you.

We get to see all of the characters introduced via trading cards, complete with those animated holographic pictures. Maybe this was meant to be a joke on how merchandised the original was, but it seems more like a way to introduce all of the characters in a way that's cheap to animate. It's not that the rest of the episode fails to do this.

If one freeze frames, they can see they gave all the ThunderCats various RPG stats, and a specific skill. For example, Cheetara has a 20 in dexterity and has skills with "fancy footwork, sick burns, and evasion", and Snarf has 20 in everything and has skills in "all". Wait, what?

The narrator, who described all the ThunderCards via showing his trading card collection, reveals himself to be Jaga. I guess that explains the "everything explodes someday" quip; the original Jaga woke up the kid to see the fireworks show. He's already far more jokey than the original, something that will be common with everyone in this show.

We see one major change this show did to the backstory: Jaga was on the planet when it exploded. I would argue that him not dying while he was getting the ThunderCats to Third Earth does take quite a bit of his emotional weight, and we can't have emotional weight in this silly show. Also taking the weight is this line, describing how he could possibly be looming over the Earth and be so blue.

Jaga: So now I'm a ghost! Hee hee hee! (flies away in a ridiculous fashion)

I feel I should be somewhat insulted by this. I mean, the original Jaga protected the original ThunderCats until his very end. On the other hand, that is Larry Kenney, Lion-O's voice in the original, voicing him. That's cool.

But enough about that, here's the Mutants from Plun-Darr! We can tell these guys are going to be total maroons just by the background of this scene. At least they had the intellect to attach an "e" Post-It note after that poorly made sign. We mostly get to see Slithe, and he's just as much of an 80's villain as he was in the original.

I've seen this show be compared to those abridged series that used to be big in the 2010s. They must not be lying, because all of this happens in the first minute. To do this, they heavily simplify the backstory. No other ships getting blasted, no Jaga dying on screen, no necessary clothing scenes, and no suspension capsules.

One blink, and the ThunderCats already on Third Earth, and the ThunderCats each have their own personalities show in how they react to being stuck on a planet. Panthro's the first to come out, talking about how awesome it is that he can tinker with the scraps on the blasted ship. WilyKit and WilyKat act like this is some sort of amusement park ride, asking if they can do that crash again. Cheetara is the first person to not be happy about this predicament, but only because there's nobody around to see how cool she is. Tygra gets smashed right after saying that they're all the coolest ThunderCat, and he says, "well, at least we're still alive."

Yes, aside from Cheetara, they all seem oddly happy to land in what seems to be a desert. We get maybe three seconds where they get to be sad that the planet they used to live on just exploded, but we don't have time for that. This is a comedy, we can't have "not comedy"!

Oh, and Snarf is there, too! Let's listen to his first line in the show!

Snarf: (animal sounds)

And here's another one!

Snarf: (animal sounds)

Roar Snarf wins. Then again, I only watched one episode of ThunderCats so far, but I can imagine this is an improvement. Maybe PPG 2016 has given me a hatred of animals that talk just because, or maybe I just haven't seen the strength of the original Snarf. Maybe it is a little bit of Column A, and a little bit of Column B.

Oh yeah, there was one other ThunderCat, and the most important one of them all.

Much like the original, Lion-O is the rightful heir of the ThunderCats, and wielder of the Sword of Omens. Unfortunately, he doesn't know how to use the sword, which was a plot point in the original. In the original, it was pod-induced amnesia, in this show, it's because this is a silly show, and our protagonist is the biggest maroon of them all. The very first thing he does is use the Sword of Omens to help him get out of the ship, because he couldn't find a way out of it. No, not with the "sight beyond sight" feature on his sword, which isn't even mentioned in this episode, but by cutting a hole in the ship.

Speaking of maroons, Slithe manages to catch up to the ThunderCats, and plans to attack them. Since Jaga was stuck on the home planet, he couldn't be bothered to tell him how to use the sword, but maybe we'll get to see him use it! I mean, how hard is it to use a sword?

Well, he does, but not in the way anyone would want him to. Admittedly, this is probably the best way to use a sword against a flying ship anyway. It only takes out one of the blasters, so Panthro ends up using the remaining exhaust on the ship to blow them away.

At least Lion-O is happy about it, and even Panthro seems to give him praise.

Tygra: He just threw a sword at a spaceship!

Panthro: And did it not totally work?

Cheetara and Tygra: Good point.

I'm pretty sure Panthro's idea to light them with rocket exhaust did the job a lot more, but you do you, Panthro. Lion-O goes out to adventure, because he wants to be the cool leader and this episode really needs some sort of moral for him to learn. Not because he's a little kid that was aged by a suspension capsule, everyone's just like that in this show.

The rest of the ThunderCats go back to working on scraps, when Panthro lifts up a steel bar to reveal a Berbil.

Who are the Berbils? Builders, definitely. Much like the ThunderCats, they still seem to be happy about it. That seems to be the theme of this episode: everyone just seemingly takes all of these problems with a smile, not taking any time to mope about, well, anything. At least they have a good reason for it: building and repairing is exactly what they were built for, as shown by having two scenes of them running in a burning town and seeing the town fully repaired in the span of a minute.

Unfortunately, they don't seem to be bright in other ways, as they then talk to them about this guy named Mumm-Ra, a person so evil that even speaking his name will cause that speaker to get struck by lightning. We get a very much extended scene that lasts longer than the backstory of them getting electrocuted because they can't stop saying his name. They really use this running gag a lot in this scene and throughout this episode; It's almost as if there's some huge payoff in the end. Honestly, I'm not used to those.

Lion-O and Snarf do their best to find where those Mutants flew off to in the series' first montage. He finds a frog, a giant turtle, and unfortunately for him, none of them can talk. He then finds this lizard guy and asks where the Mutants are, only to find out that lizard guy was one of the mutants he was looking for, and their ship is fully repaired outside of losing that one blaster.

After a comedic chase scene that has almost no backgrounds at all, he gets chased to a wall, and Lion-O can't seem to leader his way out of this situation. All Lion-O has is this sword he has no idea how to use, and some dragon cat thing that can't even talk this time...

...who is also a robot with a laser beam? Yup, one of the biggest twists of the series is that they changed Snarf from a Snarf that complains about everything to a robotic Snarf with various weapons at his disposal that can only make cutesy animal sounds. Maybe someday he will ta...maybe I shouldn't tempt fate.

Don't worry, he still has batteries, which appear to be his one weakness and a good excuse to not have him defeat everything so easily. Fairy godparents have Da Rules, Robo-Snarf has what appears to be Lion-O's reluctance to charge him. However, this scene seems to imply that he didn't even know he was a robot until now. We didn't, but why wouldn't he know? It's not like they have the amnesia excuse here.

...Mumm-Ra The Ever Living, who really, really doesn't like loiterers on his front lawn. Don't worry, he will look slightly better in future scenes. This show definitely has a loose style that seems to work against it. Don't worry, the Mutants outright shout "we're still alive!" That reminds me of that Futurama episode where they parodied 80's cartoons, and President Nixon had to sanitize it for the young viewers. Maybe I should think about that a little more.

Commercial Break!

Oh good, shouting text humor, or murmuring text humor as it is here. It only appears here. It feels like a placeholder, and that might actually be the case.

He tries to find his giant blue savior who likes to laugh while thunder surrounds him, yes, they do that joke, and he goes into that savior's awesome pyramid lair. Or, as he puts it, the AWESOOOOOME pyramid lair. They sure seem to love that word; it’s like this show’s fistbump gag.

Unfortunately for Lion-O, his savior turns out to be a really rotten person. Almost literally, as right before Lion-O barged in, he was busy making a pollution monster. He tries to show off his Sword of Omens, complete with the Eye of Thundera in its only time it is pointed out in the episode, and Mumm-Ra counters by showing off his Doom Staff. One of its many abilities is its ability to shock people whenever they say his name correctly, which is that running gag from before. Again, the payoff is coming, I'm sure of it.

Lion-O also totally lets him know about his own awesome home base that would make a great shot for a credits sequence. Okay, they didn't really break the fourth wall that badly in this show.

Panthro: Well, this construction is going about as well as it possibly could.

(Mumm-Ra makes the home base's head explode)

Wah, wah, waaah. But don't worry, the Berbils will be on that. Lion-O, upset over his poor, poor base, decides that he's going to give him a royal spanking.

Needless to say, we never find out what he meant by that, as he gets tied up by a chain that can transform into a much easier to animate ribbon.

Mumm-Ra ends up cannonballing into his teleporting pool right to the home base, and the rest of the ThunderCats try to stop him. Unfortunately, they are at the mercy of his feet. No, seriously.

Mumm-Ra: Oh, how eager you are to get a taste of DE-FEET!

Never thought we'd already get to see Mumm-Ra's feet in about as much detail as this show's art style allows. I do not know to know if anyone wanted that. I sure didn’t.

Cheetara: Ahh, that pun!

See, pointing out the joke makes it funny. I would say this joke was really easy to miss; it took me about three times to figure out what she was even saying.

We get our first fight scene that lasts more than a few seconds. It's as wacky as the art style allows. It actually does the same job those trading cards were trying to do, except we actually get to see them in action. The show's wacky art style actually works well with the style of animation they use here. No slideshow beatdowns, everything is very much animated. I will say that it looks a little better in motion than it does in stills, though if one does not like this art style, I can't imagine the animation would convert them.

Lion-O shows up, hoping he's not too late, only to find out that yes, he's too late. At their lowest moment already, can anything stop Mumm-Ra? I won't give it away here, as I've already revealed one of the biggest twists of the series so far, so I'll just say that we do get a payoff to that one running gag. While it was expected, I was kind of hoping that it would happen.

We're not done with the fighting, and honestly, it's better the second time. The running gag even shows up here in a way that I honestly didn't expect. Also unexpected: the sword transformation scene, one of the most iconic parts of the original, is parodied here in a way that shows that Lion-O still doesn't really know how to use that blasted sword. However, they still manage to win anyway, with Mumm-Ra devolving into his Rookie form and running away to try to gain his powers back.

In the end, we get the "sorry I was such a jerk" scene from Lion-O, and he gets to say the catchphrase. That is, "ThunderCats, hoooo!" I did wonder why they decided to call this show "ThunderCats Roar" when that isn't the catchphrase, but maybe Cartoon Network didn't need a show with the word "ho" in the title, and calling it "ThunderCats Hooo!" would make people think it was "ThunderCats Who?" That title probably wouldn't help with a problem I haven't even mentioned yet: how is this going to appeal to kids that aren't familiar with the original? I guess some silly jokes can distract from that.

How does it stack up?

All in all, this is not a bad episode to start this brand new series. It introduces all of the characters, it has some pretty decent humor, and, most importantly, it knows what its doing. That is something I cannot say for a certain other reboot involving superheroes. The show really is pretty occupied with how silly it is, and it does seem to fast forward through parts that are necessary.

So yeah, I don't hate it, but I didn't exactly love it, either. It's just a silly 80's cartoon parody. I don't really know what to expect out of this show, so I'll put this episode right in the middle and see what happens. Who knows, maybe this episode will be a highlight! I hope not.

Next, cookies.

← n/a 🐈 The Legend of Boggy Ben →

[whengeorgiawentblue]

In all honesty, I had never seen supernatural. I had no idea who were Cas and Dean or Misha and Jensen. About 2 months ago, during the US elections I saw the flood of Destiel/Putin/Nevada memes in tumblr and it was so funny  so I got curious and starting to dig more into it. And then the more I knew the more I loved Castiel, and I got a fucking crush on Misha, and then I wanted so badly for Cas to be brought back to life and be loved in return by Dean and... then the last episode of spn came (and I haven´t watched it and I´ll never do) I saw the reactions in tumblr and I was so fucking angry and upset and frustrated and well you all know how we felt that day.

So after that trainwreck I kept digging into destiel fanart and gifs just to cope and that was when I found Cockles. At first I was absolutely skeptical. I thought people were just tinhatting and reading too much into “body language” and comments taken out of context and so on. Also I didn´t want to ship real people (it´s wrong and I had a bad experience in the past with people who critized me for shipping Carrison, the shipping of Carrie Fisher and Harrison Ford in the Star Wars fandom)

But I kept reading more posts about cockles, seeing more and more gifs, watching videos, and... I just saw things which apparently didn´t have an heterosexual explanation. Things which were so suspicious. And they kept coming, more and more: the chemistry in the panels, the flirting, the fact that the cast made inside jokes, specially Jared! Alona´s have you kissed Jensen? The selfie chest to chest, the FUCKING 10TH YEAR ANNIVERSARY SELFIES, LIKE WHAT THE FUCK! The rings, the fucking blocking tree, the comments from fans who have met Jensen and Misha in person... there are just so many suspicious things!!! Only one, or 2 o 3 or even more would mean nothing, but the amount of “evidence”, is just overwhelming.

And listen, I´m a gay cis male. I´ve had quite a few relationships with bisexual men, and had ocassional sex with many, and I have listened their own stories, how the discovered they were into men, how many of them still love their wives and yet have a male lover... many things which mirror Cockles. It looks so familiar to me.

I was skeptical but at this point... well we can´t really know, we can´t be sure cockles is real, but at this point I believe it´s real. It´s the most logical explanation for Misha and Jensen´s behaviour. I just can´t imagine any other alternative. Any other heterosexual explanation just doesn´t fit at all.

One last thing. Many people name this moment or this video or this gif as proof of cockles, but recently I found one video which literally made my brain explode. It´s that kind of “there´s no heterosexual explanation” thing. This post:

https://rmcmisha2022.tumblr.com/post/638981279353831424/just-something-i-noticed-watching-jib-6-cockles

(I copy and paste what OP originally posted)

At around 15:00 we hear Misha start talking about his Maison dream he had while away from home. At the end he says he woke up and said “Awllll I miss her!”

Jensen (being Jensen) replies: He did! … he shared me with that…he did…he shared that with me…I’m just going to hang out (sits down).

Is this another “He sounds like that in the morning”?

This boy cannot keep his mouth shut…

Like, EXCUSE ME?? Yes Misha could have told Jensen about that dream later, but Misha´s nervous laugh, like thinking “Jensen what the fuck are you saying???”, Jense being like “ok I gonna sit down and shut the fuck up” and HIS FACE, he looks embarrased, looking at the public, afraid someone realizes what he just said...

Because Misha told Jensen about the dream the very same moment he woke up. They had slept together. 

For me. This. Means. They. Slept. Together. Many. Times.

And it really amazes me that this cockles moment has been so overlooked!!! I´ve seen cockles masterposts and master lists and timelines, but I never saw this video. This needs to be common knowledge.

When did you start shipping Jenmish?

The day Despair aired. So, Nov 5? Lol

It was an accident. I was so overcome with emotion after Cas died that I came to tumblr for Destiel because I knew the fandom was big here and I could find people to commiserate with.

And I found the posts and stuff to help me with that.

But... in searching Destiel, I also got cockles.

At first I was confused and like what?

I laughed and read a couple posts about it. Brushed it off and thought it was weird.

Then I found a post about how in 2013 Misha had accidentally tweeted the cockles love story post - but never deleted it.

There was a link to that post. And by the time I was done reading it, I had dipped my toes into the dumpster that is the cockles dumpster mansion... Then I read something about how Misha’s mom had come up with the cockles mansion thing (or something like that) for GISH.

But then... then I had to dig around and look for myself. I’m an analytical person and needed to see things for myself and figure it out on my own.

I watched some gif sets people posted along with their thoughts and little video snippets. But I knew things could be taken out of context or manipulated to show what you want people to see.

I reblogged some stuff because they were cute and it made me go aww. But I still wasn’t buying it that they were a couple.

So I decided to watch the con videos myself, which is mostly from JIB for cockles only. But there were a few all cast panels I watched too.

And whoa... yeah. I’d watched a few all cast panels in the past when I’d gone through my Mark Sheppard is gorgeous and I need to consume everything he’s ever appeared in, and thanks for that Mark because you’re what finally made me watch doctor who and I loved it phase. Don’t get me wrong. I’m still absolutely enamored with Mark, but I’ve seen almost everything he’s done now lol.

But the point is, I watched some of those panels and saw the Misha and Jensen goofing but I wasn’t focused on it. I was mostly paying attention to how the others were with Mark. Because he’d been my fascination at the time lol.

But then I watched Jensen. And I watched Misha. And I watched Jared. Together.

And the difference in how they acted towards each other was obvious.

Watching the panels, it really didn’t take long to see there was something there. Jensen has always come off as kind of quiet and reserved. But put him with Misha... and he was acting all cutesy and flirty (and also annoyed) like I do with my husband.

By the time I got to jib...4? The one with the paper airplane, I was like maybe.

I forget exactly what it was that sold me. But it didn’t take long. It was maybe 20-30 min of tumblr that had me convinced enough that I needed to look at things myself and figure it out.

But I knew in the past Jensen didn’t like talking about Destiel. But watching him with Misha at JIB, I had no idea how that Jensen and the no-Destiel Jensen were the same person.

Then, I also discovered Nesnej. lol.

But the heart eyes and the social media comments and the almost confirmations from cast mates - plus all of the JARED KNOWS content. He is truly being the little brother who has a secret and isn’t saying anything, but also isn’t not saying anything. And plans to keep making fun of them and saying as much as he thinks he can get away with, without actually saying they’re together.

2019... that was just a year for cockles content. And I’m working on this whole timeline theory thing, of how with the show about to be over, Jensen just stopped giving a fuck and literally said “let the world know, for all I care.”

When did you start shipping JenMish, and what sold you on it?

[kingcritter]

Short Story: BALLMER PEAK

Blink. Blink. Blink.

The little green cursor on my terminal screen, prompting me to write something -- anything! -- steadily blinked at me. Mocking me, I was sure of it. I slowly lifted my hands to the keyboard, feeling as though I was dragging them through molasses. Sweat beaded on my brow.

I can do this, I lied to myself. I knew I just needed to start, and then the floodgates in my brain would open and my fingers would dance across the keyboard and I'd finish this assignment before the deadline and I wouldn't be fired and blacklisted from any future programming jobs and my wife wouldn't leave me and my children wouldn't hate me and oh god I'm doomed.

With sluggish fingers I typed:

> print "hello world"

My brain's floodgates remained resolutely closed.

I slumped forward onto my desk, burying my head in my folded arms. I had a month to finish what I was becoming convinced was more than a month's work. I'd been so proud at the beginning, a year ago -- which now felt like a lifetime -- when I was selected to work with the renowned Dr. Sandburg on the task of integrating the nation's nuclear arsenal with the Strategic Defense Initiative network. It had all gone so well in the beginning, until disaster struck...

I missed Sandberg. In the 10 months we worked together, I learned so much from him. He was a brilliant man who never met a problem he couldn't solve. I wished I could talk to him now...

I sighed, slumping back into my chair, looking at the picture that hung on my office wall. Dr. Sandberg, myself, and the rest of the team, all looking so fresh faced and happy, unaware of the tragedy that lurked in our futures.

My gaze wandered around my office. No amount of interior decoration could cover up the suffocating blandness of a government office building, and to be honest I hadn't really tried. Besides the photo of better times that hung on my wall, I only had a few sturdy bookcases, a messy desk currently cluttered with reference books and three-ring binders full of technical specifications, today's newspaper ("NIXON ACQUITTED", blared the headline) and a few other odds and ends.

I had a polaroid photograph of my wife taped to the side of my terminal. I'd taken it last month when we had a picnic. Golden sunlight backlit the hair that framed her face, creating an almost angelic appearance. Her radiant smile, even frozen in time like this, was still infectious enough that I found myself reflexively smiling back. I sure was a lucky guy... well, in that regard, anyway. My smile slipped as I remembered my current predicament.

I heaved a dramatic, self pitying sigh, and stood up and trudged for the door. Perhaps a walk to the water cooler would clear my mind. It hadn't worked the last twelve times I'd tried it in the last hour, but maybe the thirteenth time would be the charm.

As I rounded my desk, my eye was caught by a knick-knack I had sitting on top of one of my bookshelves. It was a length of a miniature white-picket fence, made from toothpicks, mounted on a simple wooden platform. It had been a gift from a senior programmer, Devin Smith. Back when I first arrived at the agency, fresh out of MIT, I had discovered an off-by-one error during a review of Devin's code.

Off-by-one errors, popularly known as the "fencepost problem", result from incorrectly iterating over a collection of elements. It's an abstract problem that can result in very concrete real world problems. A computer-controlled machine at a Ford factory might miss a critical rivet; a fully computerized waste treatment plant might dump raw sewage into rivers when it tries to fill a tank it doesn't have; and in one very real, still-classified example, a seventy million dollar CIA spy satellite had plunged into the atlantic ocean shortly after lunch, when only twenty-eight of the twenty-nine decoupling explosives ignited.

The fencepost problem was one that had plagued programmers since the dawn of the computing age, and wasn't always easy to spot. Devin Smith had been so impressed (and, I suspect, slightly embarrassed) that a rookie had discovered a bug in his code, he made and gifted me the miniature picket fence. As I gazed down at it, I realized that since the deaths of Dr. Sandberg and the rest, I'd been so busy I'd barely talked to anyone else. There may not be anyone left with specific domain knowledge of my current project, but others, surely, had faced similar problems.

Who to talk to... Devin? I chuckled to myself and placed the toothpick fence back on my shelf. I wasn't that desperate.

I knocked on the open office door. "Larry? Do you have a minute?"

Larry Goldsmith looked up from his desk and peered at me over his spectacles. "Ah, Kevin! Come right in!"

In the programming world, older programmers are affectionately known as "grey beards." Larry Goldsmith not only had a literal grey bread -- a great big bushy thing that complimented his Santa Clause-esque physique -- but had also been in the business for most of his sixty years of life. He had worked on the Apollo project, where programming involved hand-weaving wires through magnetic cores. I

I took a seat and quickly explained my problem. The work was 95% done, but this last, critical five percent was proving to be intractable. Anytime I tried to work on it, I felt overcome with anxiety and helplessness, and I couldn't write a single line of code.

When I was finished, Larry leaned back in his chair and tugged his beard thoughtfully. "I see, I see... honestly, I'm surprised you haven't had a mental break yet, with the pressure you must be facing. To lose your team -- your friends, your mentor -- so suddenly and in such a tragic way, and shouldering the weight of the whole project, I can hardly imagine what you must be going through." His face twisted in anger, and pounded a meaty fist on the desk. "Damn communists! Dr. Sandburg was a good friend of mine, and to die in a goddamn Pizza Hut, of all places..."

"Well, we never proved it was the Russians --"

"Bah," Larry replied dismissively, "I don't believe in coincidences. A gas line explodes and wipes out almost an entire team working on nuclear response technology, and I'm supposed to believe it was just chance? Nonsense."

"Well, I'm only here because of chance. The only reason I wasn't there is because I came down with the flu the day before." I smiled bitterly. "You know, the only reason we were celebrating was because we'd just hit the final milestone before delivery. The last component needed -- the part I'm now stuck on -- was the integration with the Minuteman silos. Dr. Sandburg was going to write that part himself, because he had the most knowledge of the interface."

I fell silent, slipping back into depression. Larry studied my morose posture with a critical eye. After a moment, he broke the silence with an unexpected revelation. "I'm sure I don't look like the type, but I am a strong believer in the benefits of meditation, of becoming a more, ah, spiritually connected man."

I cocked a dubious eyebrow. "Really?"

Larry chuckled. "Really! In fact, I've gone overseas and spent time with holy men of various religions and practices. In fact, I even visited the bhudist monks in the Vietnam territories, after we won. And I have to tell you, getting in touch with your inner self can help in so many ways. I think your problem is that you're too stressed out to concentrate -- you need to cleanse yourself of your worries and doubts before you can move forward. Here, I'll lend you a book about it…"

Larry rummaged in his desk drawers for a moment. "I know it was here somewhere... ah! Found it!"

I took the proffered paperback. The cover featured the silhouette of a man in a lotus pose, and the title "Becoming the Better You," by someone by the name of "Thích Quảng Đức". The book was somewhat worse for wear; clearly Larry had gotten his money's worth out of it. I was doubtful, but... well, if it worked for Larry, maybe it'd work for me. I thanked him, exchanged a few more pleasantries, and returned to my office. I cracked open the book to page one and started my spiritual journey.

The deadline was in a week. I'd read the book, cover to back, and then back to cover, and tried everything it suggested. All I had to show for it was a few hundred lines of mediocre code, and an even worse case of depression. Okay, I thought with all the determination I could muster, one more time. I closed my eyes, then took a breath, counted to three, exhaled, and repeated. I cleared my mind the way the book had taught me, pushing my worries to the side, one by one. I felt myself becoming more relaxed. Maybe this time it was actually working. Maybe this time I would have a breakthrough. Breath in, breath out. Breath in, breath out. Breath in...

I opened my eyes. My terminal was still blank. I looked at the clock, and realized I'd just slept for four hours. I swore loudly and threw the book across the room. It missed the trash can, but I didn't care. Okay, I thought. Meditation isn't more me. I stood and headed for the door. If the world of spirits lacked the answers I sought, perhaps the world of science would have them.

I found Harvey Ketiel in his cubicle, sorting through a stack of paperwork. Harvey was a psychologist, and although we never saw each other on an average workday, I'd become friends with him through the company bowling league. Ah, bowling... one of a hundred fun things I hadn't done in months.

Harvey glanced up when he heard me approaching, then did a double take. "Kevin? You're the last person I expected to see today, but I'm glad I did!" I grinned and took a seat, and we chatted for a few minutes, catching up on what we'd been up to. The conversation soon moved to my purpose of being there, and Harvey listened intently as I described my problem.

"I think," he said, after I'd finished, "I know exactly how to help you."

"Well, that's a relief! Hopefully it doesn't involve shock therapy or anything similar?"

Harvey laughed. "Nah, man, just an egg timer. I just read about it, it's in one of these..." He shuffled through a stack of scientific journals, pulled on out, and flipped through it. "Ah, here it is. It's a focusing technique called the Pomodoro Method, and this study showed that subjects in the experiment that used the method became 83 to 240 percent more efficient at the tasks they were assigned."

"And all I need is a timer?"

"Yup! You simply set a timer for thirty minutes, do your work, then set a timer for five minutes and do anything other than work. The theory is that it's easy to concentrate and get past things like writers block when you set a time limit. Basically, your brain is terrified of working for an indeterminate amount of time, but you can easily convince yourself to work for a measly half-hour, and then another half-hour, and then another until all your work is done! It's like magic, except it's science."

"Well, it certainly sounds easy. I'll give it a shot!"

I took my leave and headed back to my office with a feeling of renewed optimism. I only had a week left, sure, but looking at it another way, I had a whole week! I could do this, I knew I could.

The deadline was tomorrow. It was 3:35 PM. I was not finished, not by a long shot.

The Pomodoro method had helped, for sure, but the core problem of self doubt remained. I found myself spending whole days writing and rewriting the same functions, unsatisfied with the quality of work and knowing I could do better.

Perhaps it was time to admit defeat. Grovel at the feet of upper management and hope I wasn't fired. I looked bleakly around my office. It wasn't a great office, but at least it was mine. I didn't want to start over in a cubicle somewhere else... my eyes alighted, as they had a month prior, on the model picket fence. Desperate times call for desperate measures, I thought. Time to talk to Devin Smith.

The elevator ride down to the basement was a quiet one, giving me plenty of time to think about Devin. It wasn't that I was scared of Devin, it was just that... well, he was unsettling, and everyone knew it. His office (called by some of us, though not to his face, his lair) was in the basement, near the mainframe that our terminals connected to. It was there because he wanted it to be there, saying that he liked the privacy. No one objected, because no one was even sure who he reported to or what projects he worked on.

With his long black hair and frequent sneering criticisms of the very government he worked for, rumours swirled that he was a homosexual or a communist, or maybe a homosexual communist. But someone higher up must have liked him, because he never faced any trouble for either allegation. And then there was the open secret that he kept a loaded .45 in his desk...

The elevator doors creaked open, and I made my way through the concrete hallways until I reached Devin's office. The door was closed, but I could see light seeping out from beneath it. I knocked, and entered after hearing a curt "come in!"

The overhead light wasn't on, the only illumination coming from a desk lamp. Harsh shadows engulfed the office, making Devin's angular face all the more sharper. He sipped from a coffee cup and motioned towards a simple plastic chair. "Sit."

I did as ordered. I knew Devin has served in Vietnam, and though he never talked about his time there, I was confident he must have been an NCO, because when he told someone to do something, you could hear in his tone that he expected to be obeyed.

"Well, well, well," he drawled. Kevin Schumer. I haven't seen you around recently, but I'm not surprised. I hear the Minuteman integration is kicking your ass -- that right?"

"Well, I wouldn't say kicking my ass," I started to say defensively, then stopped. "No, sorry, you're absolutely right. That's actually why I'm here..."

As I recounted my tale of woe, Devin said nothing, content to merely sip his coffee. His shadowed face was impassive and inscrutable.

"...and so," I finished, "I came here. I know you've done lots of great work -- I mean, I don't know what you actually do, haha, no one does -- but uh, it's, uh, I'm assuming it's good because you haven't been fired, haha..."

Devin sipped his coffee and continued saying nothing. I nervously cleared my throat, trying to forget the conversation I'd had with a coworker, in which she swore she'd seen a photograph of Devin in Vietnam, wearing a necklace of human ears. "What I'm trying to say is, do you have any suggestions for what I can try? I mean, it's probably too late now, but..."

I fell silent. Devin carefully placed his coffee cup back on his desk. He leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "Do you think you lack the ability to write this code?"

"I... I don't know, honestly. I hoped I did, but it hasn't been working out so far..."

"You said that Dr. Sandberg was going to write this code originally, correct? What knowledge did he have that you don't?"

"Well, he knew the Minuteman interface better than anyone --"

"How did he acquire this knowledge?"

I frowned. "Well... I guess he just read through the technical specifications --"

"And you haven't?"

"Of course I have," I snapped. "Over and over again. But I don't have Sandberg's years of experience, or his deep understanding of system design, or --"

"I think you're wrong. Sandberg picked you specifically as his second in command, and he wasn't known for making bad decisions. I think you have both the knowledge and skillset to pull this off. What you lack is the confidence. Riddle me this: if the code you needed to write already existed, and someone were to read it aloud to you, how long would it take to type it in?"

I thought about it for a moment, comparing the expected work to previous projects I'd worked on. "Um, probably about eight hours?"

"Then it shouldn't take much longer to write it from scratch, because you know what? You already wrote the code in your mind, you just don't know it. All you have to do is turn off the thinking portion of your brain and let the code flow through you. And for that, I have something that will help you. This coffee mug isn't filled with coffee, you know."

I was momentarily nonplussed at the seeming non sequitur. "What?"

Devin opened a desk drawer and pulled something out. I saw a glint of silver, and was briefly convinced I was going to see the rumoured .45 up-close and personal. But then I realized it wasn't a gun, it was a silver flask. Devin spun the cap off and tilted the contents into his mug, refilling it.

"This is the secret to my success -- whenever I need to do something difficult, dangerous, or potentially risky, I get drunk. The part of my brain that thinks things like "your manager won't ever agree to this idea" or "maybe there's children in those huts" turns off, and I can focus on what I need to do. It's what got me through the war, and it's what's kept me employed." He held the flask out. "Here, take it."

The hours passed in a blur. Devin had been right -- my doubts were erased, my confidence was at record high levels. My fingers danced over the keyboard, producing code of amazing quality. When I began to get tired, I chugged a cup of black coffee and resumed work. After everyone else in the office had left for the day, I grabbed the coffee machine from the break room and sat it on my desk.

When I finally finished, real birds were chirping in the tree outside my window, and metaphorical early birds were beginning to arrive in the office. I copied my code onto floppy disks, addressed them to the appropriate office in the Pentagon, and delivered them to the mailroom for delivery. They'd be at their destination by mid day, and the code would be loaded into the Minuteman silos in the coming weeks -- the final part of the United State's complete missile defense and nuclear response system. Right on schedule.

I tried to take a victory swig from the flask, but it was now empty. Well, no matter -- it had served its purpose. I put it in my desk drawer and headed home.

I was asleep before my head hit my pillow.

I locked my car, tugged on the handle to make sure it was locked -- just a habit; it's never not been locked -- and headed towards my office building. It was a bright and crisp August morning, almost three weeks after I'd finished the Minuteman integration project. It may have been Fall, but I had a spring in my step; management had been very pleased with my performance, and I'd been promoted. Today would be the first day leading my own team.

I was blissful enough that it took a few seconds of hearing a low, distant rumble, before I truly registered what I was hearing. I spun around and looked out towards the countryside, through a gap in the nearby office buildings. A rocket was rising into the sky, atop a pillar of flame and smoke. I knew it was from one of the Minuteman silos scattered around the country, and the rocket was carrying a nuclear payload and destined for Russia.

I couldn't believe the crazy Russians had actually done it. They'd gone and started World War Three --

Wait. Something was wrong. I spun around frantically, looking in all directions. I knew the playbook -- a nuclear response wouldn't just be one rocket, there should be dozens of missiles in the vicinity launching simultaneously. But I only saw the one...

I watched it rise higher and higher. With a sinking feeling, I realized that its trail of exhaust looked for all the world like a single, solitary fencepost.

[pandaskull101]

The boy and The demon

chapter 8 the beginning

"Eddward where are you?" a little boys voice cried out, "Eddward please this isn't funny anymore,Eddward?"

Eddward squeezed his eyes more and covered his small ears tighter, 'leave me alone. You don't understand no one does not mamma, daddy, or you just leave me alone!' screaming in his mind never noticing the little boys voice drawing closer or the shadows moving around his body.

"Eddward? Eddward snap out of it Edd-"

"-Ward wake up."

Eddwards eyes snapped opened, then immediately close from the blinding light. Groaning he shielded his eyes with his arm as they began to adjust. "What happened? where am i ?"

"The nurse's office remember we were playing dodgeball during p.e. and some juniors thought it was funny to aim for our heads. One hit you pretty hard in the head than you fell face first to the ground."

Groaning more he move to lay on his side, opening his eyes he looked up to the freckled green eyed man. "Well Eddy did warn me about being fresh meat. What time is it and why aren't you in class?"

Kevin smiled 'same old dork,' "It's 3:39 school let out about an hour ago, you've been out since fourth period dude." his smile grew bigger when edd practically jumped up off the in surprise and alarm.

"What oh lord my classes, my notes, my assignments why did you let me sleep for so long kevin and why didn't you go to class after bringing me here, you education is in jeopardy just like mine!" Edd's mind began to reel, he could feel his emotions begin to bubble up inside. An image of two angry and disappointed face manifested in his mind.

"Whoa dork don't blow a fuse it's okay it's not like it's the end of the world or something. Plus it's only the first week not a lot of teachers hand things out or give homework so you it's fine." his smile disappearing from his face he moved closer to gapped toothed teen and placed a steady hand on his shaky shoulders.

Tensing up Edd moved his eyes up to stare into emerald like eyes. His shallow like breathes begun to slowly even out, the hurricane of emotion begun to slow down as the two phantom images became nothing more than a memory in the pools of green.

So wrapped up in each other neither noticed the other leaning in or the office door opening.

"Okay Kevin has Eddward woken up yet, his parents will be here oh my." As quick as a whip both teens jumped away from each other, their faces exploding in a deep red blush. "Oh i'm sorry if i was interrupting anything i just wanted to know if Eddward was awake, his parents are coming to pick him up in a few minutes."

"Mother and father are back? They're coming to get me?"the words slowly came out as if he was trying to understand what the words meant.

The earlier moment forgotten as well as the blush on Kevin's face. A face of worry and concern replaced his red face as Edd continued to stay silent. "Hey dork you good,"

"Hm i am alright Kevin thank you for staying here with me while i was unconscious. Also i wanted to ask if you wanted a ride home?" standing up he began to stretch out his bones popping.

Getting up he rubbed the back of his neck his emotions never faltering, but a light blush dusted his cheeks faintly. "Yeah it was no problem i didn't want any more upperclassmen to do something to you while you were knock out. Thanks for letting me stay here with him Mrs. Ford."

"It was no problem Mr.Barr i'm glad to help a nobel cause"smiling she winked at the red head her eyes gleaming with something kevin couldn't identify.

"We should go kevin we can't keep mother and father waiting," grabbing his arm Edd tugged him out of the office towards the school entrance to wait for his parents.

Meanwhile at the Celtic Island

Ding

"Welcome how are you guys?"

"Hey Steve what's up can I get two of my usual for me and this fine piece of ass right here."

"I swear goldberg i will throw you in a bath of acid if don't stop."

"Oh come on Rave you can't deny it i know that you love me," Nat smirked securing both arms around Raves waist and pulled him towards his body.

Rave scoffed"Yeah i love you as much as i love drinking kerosene and dancing the hokey pokey naked. Now let go of me or i'll give you another cut to match the one i gave you last week."

Dislodging one arm he smiled at Rave "As much as i like the idea of you marking my body i'm afraid i will have to pass on this one love. Next time and maybe you can mark me in a different way that doesn't involve a blade."

Before he could smack the golden eyed man two plates of of burgers and fries appeared in front of them. "There you go two of our famous burger with sea salt fries and sour apple lemonade enjoy."

DING

"Welcome have a seat someone will help you in a bit,"

"Hi actually we're looking for Mr and Mrs. Barr are they here yet?"

"No sorry I think they are on their way please take a seat at the bar, while i give the a call."

"Thank you um Grace, come on honey,"the man gently pulling his tired looking wife by the hand, catching before she fell. "I told you not to exert yourself too much on the way here."

"I'm fine Ian we needed to get here fast anyway, a bit of exhaustion won't stop me from finding and tearing those two s.o.b's to shreds. Now if will help me to the bar so i can order a nice alcoholic drink that will be swell."

Shaking his head he pick up his wife and sat her down on the stool next Rave. "We will talk about those two later right now a drink sounds nice order me one too i need to make a phone call real quick." kissing her cheek he headed outside.

Blowing out a breathe she looked up at the menu on the wall. "excuse me can i get a mount gay rum hold the coke and a gin and tonic please."

"And some brandy too, if it's not too much trouble...ow James that hurt."

"I'll stop when you stop asking random people for a drink .I'm sorry miss please pay him no attention i think the chemical from his hair dye soaked into his brain."

"It's ok sweetie i don't mind do you want one too."

"Are you offering these kids alcohol Ava?"

"What, no of course not why do you think i'm always doing something wrong?"

"Because i know you and it's you Ava you're always up to something bad."

"Yet you still love me."

"I think he's too scared to not." a gruff voice chuckled behind Ian.

Turning around Ian stared down the larger man."I am not scared of my wife Charlie."

"Yes he is." Ava sounded a smile on her face as she sipped her drink.

Olivia smiled at her husband and friends then turn the two pre teens."Hello Nathan and Rave i see you've met our friend Ava and her husband Ian. Savanna and Ian Vincent."