#I want him to go eat shit and die

[krussyarts]

they are WRESTLING get your mind out of the gutter, this is just a bit of wrestling between best enemies

[lokh]

every day im reminded that though my parents may have wanted a dog they clearly did not want to take care of a dog

[totes-tubulardude]

I mentioned before that some modified troopers were more wary than others about telling their Jedi generals about their specific mutation. This is born from abuse they received from trainers on Kamino, a sense of fear that others that aren’t their brothers will think they are monsters and need to be feared.

So when they first meet their Jedi generals, they don't bring it up or mention it. They still are trying to get a feel for their Jedi and the last thing they want is to scare them away.

Inevitably they will need to use their mutation, either to protect themselves or their battalions or in battle.

Anakin was absolutely amazed at Rex's ability when he first saw Rex use it. The captain was not expecting the list of questions and enthusiasm he received from his general at all, shocked that the man hadn't immediately transferred him off to a different battalion.

He was still too wary to tell Commander Tano when she joined them.

Commander Fox didn't have much use for his mutation when he was transferred from the frontlines to Coruscant. He did not inform the Chancellor or any senators he was in charge of protecting because he'd seen how his men were treated on the Capitol Planet. Even when it could save his own life he didn't use it.

That all changed when Senator Chuchi and Senator Amidala were suddenly under direct threat...

-

I have a name for this au now! Te ori bal te kih which is mando'a for The Big and the Small

[electric-plants]

slight hsr spoilers but—

they might as well have just impaled me on a stake

[maliciousalice]

Hear me out (or don't... it's fine I'm just venting and mean) yeah um I don't believe Chakotay was saved in Prod*gy s2.

[c28hunter]

I'm starting an Eagle Eye fan club, I need more of this man, he has so much potential an yet he's just a background man with no story

[yousta]

Saint Jacob? Uhm Patron Saint Bocaj? No, live forever Youiusey! Even if it's just Delila and me. RIP chris

I wouldn't have spent years alone

with no one hitting my phone.

Felt they all left me on the shelf.

Found no peace within myself,

loathing wanting to kill my self.

Couldn't really love myself,

hadn't defined love for myself.

It's a word you throw around,

and I notice.

Inspires distance in the eyes never focus.

For some image you said was your purpose.

Wait, I'll set you straight.

It's not love,

that only exists under hate

I would relate

Built through fear

Instead of being open to shedding a tear

It'd come out when we'd talk,

It's funny how I was always wrong.

Doubt you'll hear this song, I'm long gone

hope y'all go a decent way.

If not today, Someday.

I'm not holding out for what you'll say.

You should've known by then they aren't all just bitches okay?

[hollypies]

I beg of you please tell me the RW lore I am oh so curious

Ok so RW lore us super uhm!! Its a lot. So. Uhm

Short!! Version

The basics is that there was a race called the Ancients that really wanted to die permanently! Death in RW is like sleep. You die and wake back up again, over and over. A cycle.

One day they found the Void, a way to die or ascend permanently. So they started jumping in . Then it had some. Some bad affects on certain ppl. So they made giant living calculators called iterators to figure out how to die permanently. They built a lot of them.

Another point is that the Ancients didn't build things like we do. They made purposed organisms, so the iterators are alive beings. Not just robots.

Anyway there was a GREAT ASCENSION and all the Ancients ascended . So. Now there's a bunch of.. Basically teenage gods with discord. Literally. The communications are like discord lol.

One day an iterator named Sliver a Straw sent out a triple affirmative, basically saying that the Great Problem (ascending permanently and safely) had been found, could be reproduced, and was portable. The Sliver judt straight up fucking died.

Iterators don't really die, so Sliver dying was ljke a big yikes moment. Basically illegal. Not Basically actually, it was literally illegal.

Cue shenanigans, and enter Five Pebbles and Looks To The Moon.

Pebbles is really craving that death right about now, and starts making something to kill him. This is extremely taxing, and Iterators take a massive amount of water for their cooling systems. Unfortunately, Pebbles was built right next to his sister Moon, and so he started chugging her water. Thus slowly killing her of dehydration.

Moon uses her big sibling privilege to yell at Pebbles, making him lose control of his experiment and releasing robot cancer into his systems. While this would kill him like he wanted, he instead decides to keep chugging all of Moons water to fight it off.

Cue slugcat campaigns.

Each slugcat can have their own encounters with Moon and Pebbles. By the time the slugcats are around Moon is almost nonfunctional, her entire structure submerged and damaged. Pebbles is slowly being overtaken by the Rot, which is the name for the cancer. You can help Moon as a slugcat, either by bringing her neurons (literally stealing Pebbles brain cells and then bringing it back to Moon, or by a specific campaign.

Eventually Pebbles gives up, and asks a slugcat to bring Moon a power core to help her. And so she's restored to some power and can begin repairing while he dies of the Rot. Weeee!!

Tbh there's a lot of shit I've missed, but I dont wanna spoil like. All of it all of it. It's. Houghghh.

Also as someone with siblings I cant ever imagine almost killing one for my own personal gain. I know Five Pebbles is a fan favorite and that at the time he made the decision to steal Moons water he was in a dark place, but that just doesn't stand by me. He made the ACTIVE decision to steal Moons water, knowing what it would do to her, and kept doing it even after he unleashed the Rot on himself. I get he's sympathetic to a lot of ppl but I just. I just can't understand it.

[yuridovewing]

Feel like one of the best ways you can convince someone that no, villains with compelling motives that have sad backstories are not terrible writing compared to straight up born evil villains who just want to kill everyone and be done with it, is to tell them that Warrior Cats writes born evil villains constantly while literally preaching “That’s how evil works, you can’t CHANGE, you’re either touched by demons at birth or you aren’t!” and it blows chunks

[dennisboobs]

writing a trash twins fic because your actual irl sibling is driving you up the fucking wall

[hauntingblue]

Sanji: I don't even like them but I wanna save them

Luffy: that's my boy

[time-like-tears-in-rain]

god i relate so hard to martha rewatching her episodes is fucking rough.

[bibiana112]

And for bad oversharing medical news the arrhythmia from december never went away but I thought maybe the throat infection was still there right so that could be a reason but then I went to a specialist and not only is it practically cured (just lingering a bit) but my lungs sound fine as well! which means! the shortness of breath is probably something wrong with the oxygen in the bloodstream and the slight chest tightness is also extremely worrying I could only make an appointment to get it checked next friday and that sounds like way too long

[the-acid-pear]

Yall dont even know how badly down i was for this guy back in the day. Mf had me eating off the palm of his hand.

[little-pondhead]

[unedited. In this, I gave Danny a walking cane to help with mobility issues caused by his nerve damage. Feel free to continue where I left off!]

Everyone knew about the coffee shop. They couldn’t remember the name. It’s been there forever, on the corner of Gotham Proper and the East End. Northwest of the opera house. A few blocks away from the high school. You know, that coffee shop.

Some of the seniors at the high school insisted it really did have a name. It was one of many in some corporate chain. They couldn’t tell you what it was no matter how hard they tried, and none of the freshman believed them. Why would the coffee shop need a name? Everyone knew where it was. It was a popular spot. There were only a few employees at a time, but they always knew what everyone wanted and the line was always super short from how fast they worked.

There were a few odd things that always stood out, however. The coffee shop was always ahead in food trends and popular drinks, so they never ran out of supplies. The kitchen had been expanding to fit more equipment than what a coffee shop needed. (The construction crew didn’t make a peep, even in the middle of the work day.) Those few employees that could cook prided themselves on being able to make anything you wanted, even if they shouldn’t logically have the ingredients on hand. They always charged you what you could afford and not a cent over, which seemed weird considering it was part of a chain. Shouldn’t they be focusing on profits? But no one had ever met the local owner, and no one had any complaints about it, so the issue was left alone.

All of these points were easy to look over. Most people were just glad to have a warm drink and a filling meal at the end of the day.

There was…one more thing, however. Something that caused the hairs on people’s necks to rise as soon as they crossed the threshold, right before the warmth of the shop hit them, brushing the feeling away. Something that called for them to come back, to relax, to be kind and quiet. Something that was a waiting danger in a cursed city.

That something was a boy.

He was by far the youngest employee there, and always worked the register, sitting on a little stool with a cane by his side. Probably wasn’t even of legal working age. But this was Gotham; who the hell cared?

No, what made him strange was his piercing eyes that seemed to look straight into your soul. He was the best at telling you what you needed, no matter if you knew it yourself or not. His cold hands made people shiver as he exchanged money with them, and his voice was smooth when he asked for their name.

People gave it to him without hesitation. He would smile gently, say thank you, and write the name in horrible cursive on a cup or kitchen ticket, never misspelling it, and sending it back to be made before beckoning the next customer forward. The first time someone experienced this, they usually experienced some sort of foggy overstimulation as they wandered to the pick up counter, thanking the kind baristas. Everything felt bright and strange and loud, like they were just plopped into another world.

The second time was easier, and they often felt light as a feather. The third time made people sneeze. The fourth made them cry, and the fifth made them happy. This tended to go on up until a person’s twelfth visit. As soon as they gave their name for the twelfth time, a few things clicked into place, and a few slipped away. It was always a special visit, whether they knew it or not, and they never walked out of there the same.

Today was Tim’s twelfth visit.

The commute to the coffee shop was the same. He’d memorized it months ago, even though he hadn’t had the chance to go as often as he’d liked. The shop was always neat and tidy on the outside, and he took a strange comfort in the split second feeling of fear that shot through his system as he opened the door.

Something felt wrong, why was he happy to be afraid?

“Hello! Nice to see you, Tim!” The boy was at the counter again, smiling widely and waving to Tim.

Tim smiled back and approached the register. “Hey, uh, how are you today?”

Why don’t I know his name? He’s wearing a name tag.

“Doing okay so far. My cane was being an ass, but I made it to work safely.” The boy tapped away at the menu, apparently ringing up Tim’s order.

I haven’t even told him what I want.

“Don’t worry about what you want, this is what you need, Tim.”

“Oh, okay.” Tim felt a little floaty. Of course the boy knew what he needed, it was obvious. Man, how tired was he? Tim rubbed his eyes and turned away for a second.

Blinking, he scanned the shop with fresh eyes, noticing things he never did before. The boy’s cane was made of wood, with an ugly face carved into it. Wasn’t it a black metal cane earlier? Some of the windows were casting rainbows despite the lack of sun. It smelled of ash despite no fireplace existing. A jackhammer was going off in the unfinished kitchen literally thirty feet away, but no noise was being made and no dust was in the air.

Something isn’t right.

The boy poked his arm, a cheeky grin on his face and a blue marker in hand. “Can I have your name?”

“Tim.”

A violent shiver ran up his spine as his name rolled off his tongue. It felt like he just got shoved to the side by a gust of cold wind. The boy-Danny-didn’t notice as he stuck his tongue out and drew little shaky stars around his name on a cup.

His name is Danny. That’s what the name tag says.

He blinked, moving to the side in a daze so the next customer could come forward. Were the lights in the shop always so bright? No, it wasn’t the lights. It was Danny. He practically glowed under the cheap fluorescent. His ears were pointed, and his teeth were sharp as he bared silly grins at everyone. His eyes were green now, too. Or were they always green?

They weren’t.

A barista behind Danny turned to grab a lid and he spied sparkling dragonfly wings cascading down her back, right out in the open. Another had longer ears than Danny did, and a third had actual metal disks braided into their hair. Almost everyone behind the counter was very much not human.

Why didn’t I notice this before?

The shop changed, too. Artistic scribbles on the walls became lines of swirling script-the same kind Danny had written on his name tag. He would need a notebook and a few days to properly read it all. More and more customers seemed to warp behind his very eyes. Every time Danny greeted them by name, they both glowed a little brighter. One little girl had scales on her face. An old man was sporting a pair of rat ears that twitched as he enjoyed a grilled cheese.

His skin suddenly felt itchy. He scratched absentmindedly at his hand, a little unsure of what was going on. He had the sudden urge to go stargazing.

“Hot chocolate for [ ]!”

His feet were moving before he realized. The barista smiled as she handed him a to-go cup of hot chocolate and a bag with a blueberry muffin.

I don’t want a hot chocolate. I need coffee. I have a meeting later.

As if hearing that tiny thought, Danny smiled mischievously to him and waved as he took his food and left. “It’s not about what you want; it’s about what you need! You’re gonna crush that meeting either way. See you next time, Tim!”

The itching got worse.

He felt his neck hairs raise again as the bell chimed, announcing his departure. Stepping back into the hustle and bustle of Gotham shocked him, and he had to wander over to a bench to sit for a moment.

He stared at the cup in his hands. T I M was written, with shitty little stars drawn all around. This drink was special, he somehow knew. If he drank from this, something in him would change forever. It already had, but this drink was important. He considered, briefly, about not drinking it. About tossing the cocoa and muffin away. Something wiggled at him to go through with it.

But Danny said he needed this.

Danny was always right.

He sipped the cocoa, letting the hot liquid settle into his body and soul. It eased aches and pains he didn’t remember getting, and he sighed, closing his eyes. He lost himself to the moment of peace the drink gave him.

If this wasn’t his twelfth visit, or if he’d waited a day to visit the coffee shop and come with the Laughing Magician instead, the boy on the bench would still know what his own name looked like. He would know what it sounded like. He wouldn’t be glowing and growing feathers, turning into something other than human.

But now the deed was done, and the heir to the Drake family belonged to Danny Phantom, the newest Lord to join Gotham’s magical courts.

Danny is a Fae at Starbucks

So! Danny works by Fae Rules, Names and all, but he has no idea about that because he was forced to run away from Home (and the Ghost portal) before his Ghostly Education could be completed.

He runs to Gotham and eventually gets a job at Starbucks, or some other Cafe.

He has to ask the question "Could I get your name please?" A LOT while working there. And unintentionally steals hundreds of Names by the end of his first day, much less a week or a month into his job.

One day, Constantine visits Gotham for a Meeting with Batman, but by the time he gets to the Meeting Point he has bigger issues to discuss.

"Why the hell does half of your City belong to a Fae Lord?!"

[dxxtruction]

can I say something controversial?