#and he literally LOOKS like ray too. he fucking became another captain man

[puhpandas]

finished the Henry danger movie and it had its moments mostly with Henry and jasper but the end of the movie was very unsatisfying and I know Henry has never been the most perfect friend but he just felt so ooc and assholeish in this movie and it never really gets resolved. the silliness was completely gone almost and jasper's personality was sanitized except for his obsession/loyalty to henry, which henry didnt even get to react to or acknowledge that much in a way he would have done in the OS because he was too busy mewing and standing there looking attractive. I think this ending for Henry danger as a whole is unsatisfying with Henry saying "I lost my whole childhood to being kid danger, I dont want to be captain man" and then leaving swellview to just become. captain man 2 but not. hes still a superhero he just didnt take over for swellview. I thought that the arc between jasper and Henry was going to end with Henry realizing how much he needs jasper and how theyve been friends for years and years and hes been a shitty one and that jasper deserves to be treated better by him but instead it just had Henry give jasper the torch to protect dystopia when jasper never wanted to be the big hero he just wanted to be equals with henry. and then its treated as a satisfying ending for jasper and Henry to separate for them both to be superheroes

[fanofcarson]

Some random little facts from my star trek daydream universe lol:

Long and bad post ahead!

-Data fucking loves Ska, and Acid Jazz, and loud rap, and Beethoven. Since his debut to the public when he was still at Daystrom labs, he’s become an intergalactic phenomenon. You’d think after so many years people would be sick of seeing Data. Everywhere. That is the Data-affect, everybody loves Data. Everyone cried in the theatre when he was reunited with Geordi in that one film based on his life. He was given a (uninhabited) planet as a gift. He is not the “uwu innocent baby” people think he is, and enjoys proving that idea wrong with his blink-and-you’ll-miss-it dry humour, and sometimes messing with his friends on purpose. He also looks different because my android redesign are war weapons illegally purchased and repurposed by Soong, but that’s a whole thing so I’ll save it for my art post. If you ask Data what he’d do if be became human, he will say: “I would become a professional DJ”.

-Beverly Crusher was in the circus but quit. She got stabbed there. That was not the reason she quit. She has major control issues but you’d never tell because from first glance she appears so very functional....too functional. Something is off with her, but not really, because she’s just like that and she has to be a bit unhinged or she’ll explode. She’s been in random movies and music videos and shows, before getting her big part. Why did she end a successful space Broadway career to join Starfleet? She might tell you that the feeling of control when she felt another man’s life in her hands after he attacked her in an alley only to be slashed with a stage prop, was a high she just had to chase for the rest of her life. Or she might tell you it’s because she wants to heal people.

-Deanna Troi is space royalty. Literally, she is a princess. And her life is so in alignment with a Disney tale, it seems fake. She is amazing with animals, with or without her telepathic connections, because she spent all her time with them as a child. She had an extreme scene phase as a teen until she destroyed her hair by frying it every day. She had a fashion line. She was spoiled and didn’t learn the value of her wealth until she ran away and it was this whole thing (that’s how she met Will). How does she summon cute little animals to perform little tasks like holding a hair brush? What are you talking about that is totally normal. What do you mean “where is the music coming from?” It’s coming from her heart.

-Geordi was definitely some kind of mathematical prodigy. He plays piano, like most of his friends, and used to do fancy recitals, but it was mainly for his parents, he just wanted to take apart computers and create godly science with them, he creates new entities out of computers, that’s how well he understands computers. He had a streaming channel where he mostly just showcased his insanely modded games. Fucking up video games beyond recognition is his sense of humour, Data doesn’t always get it, but Data gets it. Since the enterprise, Geordi had to stop streaming because it got very intense very fast. He isn’t as comfortable with fame as some of his friends.

-The Enterprise Crew^TM. It’s the most glamorous job in the fleet, you always expect a certain level of class. Something’s not right. They’re agreeable.........too agreeable. They’re always smiling politely, even when casually reporting the insane horrors of the week. People died :) The air is so sterile. I am delirious from the sun I think so this post is kinda weird? Why are they like that? They’ve never argued once. Why are they all actors?? Is it a conspiracy? People wonder, why is nobody talking about the fact that the captain of the flagship was voicing some side character in some random cartoon. Why are they all actors...or musicians...or dancers...or singers. It’s a coincidence. Some people believe they’re fake, as in, they’re not even star fleet officers, they just pretend to be for promotional reasons. After all, they make one HELL of a PR team. The least down to earth people you’ll ever meet.

-Will Riker’s most treasured possession is his signed copy of School of Rock on blu ray.

[mourningmaybells]

Peter Lukas?

Rich boy bastard Peter Lukas? Mother Fucking Asshole lonely uwu cloud sweaty sea captain, only Avatar to become Martin’s BITCH, dumbest boomer to curse the Earth Peter Lukas.

I Am Calmly Asking You To Stop Reminding Me He Existed.

This bastard man cannot leave my head. Why does he pretend to be ‘nice’? Why does he pretend to be a ‘master manipulator’? Martin played this fake bitch like a toot-toot kazoo and he didn’t even know it.

Was it cause he was rich? Was it cause he was 'sheltered’? Cryptic bastard keeps haunting my thoughts driving me to smack any cloud of mist that rolls by.

He’s not even real, I’ve never even seen him and I know he’s the first image search result for racist white man- don’t deny it. He called Jon “grubby”. He probably can’t google search ‘curry’ without exploding. The Eye told me.

If I died and saw heaven’s gates, I’d say “no thank you” and go to hell just to punch this rat’s homophobic gay fucking face with my brown bi fury fists. And kill him a second time. And then a third.

I am so glad I caught up with the series and know he’s gone for good, never coming back for another divorce. He says he hates being a podcast character, and I think “Yeah bitch. Me too.” If he comes back in season 5 even as a flashback I am writing a strongly worded letter to 𝒲𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝒫𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇 𝒾𝓉 𝑀𝒶𝓎 𝒞𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝓃. And you know what? That flashback is probably an apology video for being a landlord. He’ll take off his cap, remove his make up, pretend to cry in the middle and then realize tapes don’t have built-in cameras.

I may look and sound calm while saying this, my voice may be quiet, but inside I Am Furious. He became a landlord and took Martin to his toxic-ass vape fog. He ruthlessly screened his ritual victims, all of which were somehow 120% white men, and he somehow forgot about privilege. And he 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝒽𝑜𝓌 forgot about Gertrude “Ruthless Grandma” Robinson. He’s right. She should have murdered him! Good on Martin for saying “Fuck you!” to his dusty face :)!

His background makes him even worse. This rich man took advantage of people with mental health issues and money problems. And when his employees wanted to confront their shitty boss, he just wooshed them. Wooshed Them. He would have lived in failure, but then decided to steal a statement-hungry, ALL-SEEING EYE Man’s boyfriend. He really thought he could hide in the mist and survive like a rat crawling into the walls after angering a ripped, beefy exterminator. With x-ray vision.

Jonah BETTER have sent reparation money to Mr and Mr Blackwood-Sims. Mothman of color had to eat white bread just to free his Boyfriend of color from his ex-husband.

Thank Eye God Jon killed him so every Thursday I don’t have to stop myself from going into a murder rage like I’m listening to Grifter’s Bone.

Jon literally gave him the option of “be known or die” and he chose “die”. Like a dumbass.

When Jon obliterated him with the power of Gay Love, every lgbt working class person felt it. A single, happy tear rolling down their cheeks. The Earth shook and skies cleared to show the stars spelling “RIP You Piece of Shit Landlord. Ibang Lebel Ang Kagaguhan Mo.”

I Am Calm but it is still waters hiding carnivorous fish in the depths below

(Literally think his death should be a nationwide holiday. People should celebrate Jon killing racism, ableism, classism and homophobia incarnate.)

[turnsoutnoonewasexaggerating]

Part Nine of The Sam Diaries

Read on Ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10507836/chapters/26359653

Andrew Minyard has never experienced luck. He doesn’t believe in it; luck, like destiny and fate and religion, seems to be based on the fanciful notion that there’s some kind of higher power that just really, really fucking hated Andrew as a child. He doesn’t much like the idea, though he supposes now the word will always remind him of the first words he spoke to Neil.

Regardless of whether he believes in luck or not, it seems the bad kind is intent on fucking up this day as much as possible. Neil’s close to a breakdown beside him, so the last thing they need is an interruption before they can get to their apartment.

“Are you Andrew or Aaron Minyard?” Andrew and Neil share a look trying to decide whether to turn around to face what is undoubtedly another stupid member of the press, or just say fuck it and run home. If Neil was on his own, he knew exactly what option he’d choose, but Andrew had never loved running like Neil did, and they’d had that whole meeting with PR…

They turn.

To both their surprise, though neither shows it, the person behind them is not a member of the press, but a woman with hunched shoulders, sleeves pulled over her hands and a wary look in her eyes. She must have been around the same age as the two of them, but the careful distance she keeps between them, and her wide-blown pupils make her look much younger. When Andrew just stares at her blankly, Neil following his lead, the woman huffs a sigh through her nose.

“I don’t want any trouble but I just thought… Well what are the chances of bumping into either one of you? I had to say something.” Neil narrows his eyes, something he’d been told by Dan made the freshman when he’d first become captain shit themselves. He is not in the mood for this crap right now. She doesn’t look like a die-hard followed-your-career-from-college Exy fan, especially as she’s said nothing about Neil, doesn’t even seem to recognise him, but he can’t think of another reason why she’d be looking for Andrew or Aaron. Andrew still doesn’t say anything, but Neil can almost hear the gears in Andrew’s mind turning, coming to the same conclusions as him. The woman does the same exasperated sigh again and holds her hands up in defeat. “Look, if you’re Andrew I want to say I’m sorry. I don’t know what you went through other than him, whether you went through anything else, but I know he was definitely bad enough.” The woman gives a small laugh that has very little humour in it as Andrew goes stiff. No, no, no… “And if you’re Aaron, I want to say thanks. I know you were doing it for your brother, but you killed more than just one man’s monster that day.”

There was only one man Aaron had killed.

Only one monster Aaron had destroyed.

The woman turns to leave, giving a little nod of her head. “Wait.” Andrew says, mostly apathetically but with more emotion in his voice than anyone outside of Neil has heard in years. He swallows thickly, and even though Neil is still frozen in horror from this and broken and wounded from talking to Eunoia, he feels the first ray of pride begin to thaw him out; stopping the woman from leaving was something the Andrew he’d first fallen for would never have done. This is only proved further by his next words. “Are you- Are you… Getting help? Seeing somebody about-” Andrew cuts himself off and tugs at the ends of his armbands angrily, annoyed at his inability to speak more coherently. Thankfully the woman seems to understand as some of the tension in her body eases.

“Yes.” She rubs a hand over her face and smiles a little, disbelievingly. “I, uh, almost didn’t make it out of university. You know how great this country is for mental health. Made a couple of good friends who got me to the hospital in time when I, uh, you know.” She says, gesturing to her legs. Neil hadn’t noticed before, but the shorts she’s wearing reveal scars on her thighs, one particularly deep one that runs way too close for comfort to the femoral artery. Thanks to his childhood, he can tell she’d missed the mark just by the placing of the scar (and obviously by the fact that she’s still alive; no matter how great her friends were, severing the femoral artery would result in death in a matter of minutes), but she hadn’t been far off. “Got myself sorted out a bit, after that. The government still pays for me to see someone but,” here she shrugs, “I’ve never trusted therapists.”

Neil shoots Andrew a look that says see; it’s not just me which Andrew ignores. Instead Andrew takes his time forming what he wants to say before responding. “I told someone what he’d done to me, and he promised that he’d stop Cass from fostering anyone else. I wasn’t thinking- It wasn’t a pleasant conversation and it didn’t occur to me until the day Aaron killed him that the person I told was lying about that promise too.” Andrew didn’t say sorry, Andrew didn’t believe in regret. But there’s something in Andrew’s eyes, something that Neil thinks he’d perhaps uncovered with Robin. Andrew had always accepted his part of the blame that Drake had been allowed to continue unchecked after he left the Spears, but the older he became, the more stories he heard, the more he let those stories affect him in ways he would never have allowed to even touch him as a university student, the heavier that blame sat on his shoulders. The woman sees that something, understands it more intimately than Neil did (because yes, there were other people, sometimes innocent, mostly not, who’d been seriously hurt because of him and his mother as they’d ran from Nathan, but as much as Nathan would always remain the main tormentor in Neil’s nightmares, he had at least never gone after someone else just to cause Neil pain. Threatened other people; yes. Did Neil believe he would have killed them? Definitely. But his preferred method was always just to kill his main target, so the collateral damage to Neil and Mary’s choices had been very minimal), and sticks her hand out for Andrew to shake.

He does so after a second of hesitance, and the woman smiles her barely-there smile again.

“My name is Rosa deRosales because my birth mother seriously did not love me, but I prefer to go by literally anything else.”

“Well, Literally Anything Else, this is quite possibly the shittiest thing I’ve ever had in common with someone.” Neil blinks.

Did Andrew just-

No.

He couldn’t have- He wouldn’t have-

But-

Did Andrew Minyard just make a dad joke?

  “Please, gorgeous, look at me.”

It has been ten strained minutes since Andrew and Neil had left the ice-cream parlour. Eunoia paces the length of the store, shoving the tables out of her way the first few times. Sam had waited for her to break the silence, but when her expression hadn’t changed while her pacing increased in speed and ferocity (to the point where Eunoia was almost stamping over her newly mopped floors), Sam had moved into her path.

Her head snaps up to look at him obediently but Sam knows it isn’t him she’s seeing. She keeps pacing until they were nose to nose and there she stops, the silence as tense and fraught with broken glass as a bombed city. “What do you want me to do?” He whispers, his voice strained and desperate. “Tell me gorgeous, what can I do?”

  “What do you want me to do?” Eunoia’s pleading voice reaches slowly through the fog in his mind. A nightmare. He’d had a nightmare, and now he doesn’t know where he is. Panic begins to race his heartbeat. “Tell me banana, what can I do?”

“Where are we?” He asks back, shakily, digging his fingers into his thighs harshly enough that he can ground himself to the feeling. Eunoia’s hands curl round his and entangle his fingers with hers. Huh, that works too.

“We’re in our apartment, in the kitchen. You had a nightmare but you’re safe. You’re here with me.”

“You won’t leave?” He trembles as she leads him over to the sofa and sits him down on it, sitting herself in his lap but thankfully not turning the lights on.

“Of course not. Do you want to talk about it?” He can hear in her voice that this has shaken her; his dreams were usually more the common garden variety types, not the existential-crisis-in-the-middle-of-the-night types. He strokes her thumbs with his soothingly.

“When I first asked my mum if there was something wrong with me because I didn’t want to have sex with anyone, you know that she said yes.” Eunoia’s hands tighten around his, barely constrained rage tensing her body. “She also said we could fix it.”

“There’s nothing to fix!” Eunoia exclaims hotly and Sam feels a little more normal when he smiles wryly, an unusual expression for him, usually so earnest and honest in his happiness.

“I didn’t think that at the time. I wanted to be normal, I wanted to be liked. Mum persuaded my brother to start taking me to all his parties, I don’t know how, probably said that she’d help him pay for his car or something. I hated them. They weren’t fun parties, and I don’t like large groups of strangers anyway. It was all drugs and drinking which is fine in small doses but everyone was reckless and doing stupid stunts. And there was so much sex. All the time, everywhere. There wasn’t one quiet corner in the house that didn’t have some people hooking up there. My brother would never stay with me, he’d always abandon me to go and have fun with his friends and I just-” Sam cuts himself off with a shudder and Eunoia disentangles their hands so she can pull him fully into her arms, head tucked into the crook between her neck and shoulder, legs wrapped firmly round his sides.

Sam squeezes her waist, inhaling her smell deeply, anchoring himself to the present. They’re alone; even if Sam turns on the lights it’d still be just the two of them. “I hate your mother.” Eunoia says, matter-of-factly, after they’ve been sat there for a while.

  Eunoia recognises the words almost against her will, a thread of awareness coming back to her eyes.

“Sam?” He leans forward lightly till their foreheads brush and Eunoia lets out a quiet agonised sigh. “Oh. Oh, my God. Sam.” She looks at the door where Andrew and Neil had gone and then down at her hands. “Fuck. Fuck!”

She spins away and sits at the closest table head in her hands. Sam doesn’t know whether she wants him to come over or not. “The FBI? Sam, what the fuck? Does he get off on hurting people?” She drums her hand against the table, loudly enough that the person walking their dog outside looks around for the source of the noise. “Agents? My parents weren’t, they weren’t- Fuck!”

“Why would they lie?” Sam asks gently, which is apparently exactly the wrong thing to say. Eunoia jabs a finger towards him, eyes narrowed.

“Just because you’ve got a boner for Minyard doesn’t mean he can’t be a massive asshole!” She snarls, picking the words that hurt the most. That’s the problem with letting someone know you. He flinches, because she knows he’s never thought about Andrew like that, that the whole thing was an inside joke between the two of them long before he ever met the Exy player in real life, that trivializing the stuttering way he’d tried to explain his fascination with the goalkeeper is exactly what everyone else has been doing to him his whole life but never Eunoia, never her.

He doesn’t want to be here, he wants to leave, but he also knows he can’t leave her. That’s the problem with falling in love.

Instead, he sits on the floor, leaning his head against the counter, and waits for things to get better.

N�����<��