#fuck me until i forget my name

[puppygirlsblog]

I NEED someone to fuck me until I can't see straight. I wanna be used like a little fucktoy. Make me beg how YOU want and punish me when it's not good enough so I can try again. I don't know why but holy fuck I just need someone to use and abuse me ASAP. I've never been so horny in my life PLEASE someone just stuff my dumb little hole. 🥺

[thorninyourpaw]

my existence makes me feel awful for my family

[ssreeder]

I am so bored and ive been meaning to find a way to harass you so consider this harassment ❤️❤️

This made me laugh until my side hurt. Great job 10/10 no notes

[pierriots]

just found out the worst thing in the world and its that one piece is actually good

[jamierthanyou]

i JUST realized that my irl name is a valid kid name

[valentinesparda]

the fan expo haul because I ended up standing in line for mads for two hours straight and then promptly had a huge panic attack slash mental breakdown due to the Everything, and my body is in a LOT of pain from standing that long / walking but hey I shook his hand :D

[feralattentionwhore]

Dreaming about that second when they first push in. It hurts so good and it's so easy to get overwhelmed not knowing if I want it to stop or never end

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

It's so funny that my favorite songs off this album aren't any of the singles (although "Bell Jar," which is my other favorite off Everything, was relegated to a B-side).

Listening to this song in particular, though, makes me realize exactly what people mean when they say "There was just something so inimitable about The Bangles and their harmonies," because, yeah man: all four musicians wrote songs and played their instruments and had their own fucking harmony vocals to sing, AND they all rotated singing lead vocals even! the fucking drummer, Debbi Peterson! Thank you very much!, even if most people thought Susanna Hoffs was the bandleader/frontperson... If I can scream about this band for a moment, I just want to say that the fact of the matter is that there have been very, very few rock bands in history who had at least one hit single (The Bangles had at least three, lmao) AND wrote their own songs AND where every member of the band sang lead vocals on different songs. Fuck the label of "all-female band" - HOW MANY BANDS CAN YOU NAME, PERIOD, WHO LARGELY WROTE THEIR OWN SONGS (and every band member contributed to songwriting - music and lyrics!), WERE SUCCESSFUL, AND EVERY MEMBER WAS A LEAD VOCALIST AND SANG AMAZING HARMONY VOCALS? NAME THEM.

[elytrafemme]

i understand that remembering birthdays is Super Ultra Crazy Hard and whatnot like i get it, by all means i GET it, but if ONE more person fucking forgets when my birthday is i’m going to cancel any plans i was planning to make on my birthday and not see a single fucking person for that entire week. come hell or high water. [do not rb]

[running-in-the-dark]

hm. am I downloading Night Court right now? possibly.

[roaringroa]

i am devastated, i read a book today and didn’t realize it was part of an ongoing series until like halfway through this is the worst thing that has ever happened to me

[famouslysleepy]

Disco Elysium is fun but man if your bad at remembering names what should be short and simple quests/task suddenly take much longer to complete

[holytrickster]

listen i dont like fëanor but i can't deny that getting so mad you literally burst into flames and crumble away into ash is kinda fucking relatable

[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?!"

[clownboy-yeehonk]

I may have spent an unfortunate part of my last shift before pto explaining to surgeons (plural) (like honest to God holders of a medical degree surgeons) (residents AND THEIR ATTENDING) how tape worked (didn't work, they didn't listen, things went sideways due to their lack of understanding of tape and how it works) but at least my "fuck off to the mountains of Vermont to relax" vacation is also stressing me out to an unnecessary level

[spellgiselle]

woke up craving really rough morning sex. it’s been a really long time since that’s happened.