#lets get muffins

[ever-go-on]

new child fragment emerged but this time we grounded and i think im getting a better picture of what seemingly minor things really traumatised me

[liquidstar]

If my mom sees a significant amount of blood she gets lightheaded, and has fainted on some occasions. Once it happened when we were kids, I wasn't there to witness it but I heard the story from my dad. Basically my brothers, around 7 or 8 at the time, were playing outside while my mom was making their lunch, and she accidentally cut her finger. It wasn't anything serious, but it drew a fair bit of blood and she passed out. My dad saw this and rushed over, but he didn't really know what to do so he just sort of started slapping her to wake her up (not recommended, but he had no idea and panicked)

At that exact moment my brothers both came in from playing, and all they saw was our mom unconscious on the floor and our dad slapping her. So, like, without even saying a word to each other they both just INSTANTLY start whaling on him, like, full blown attack mode to defend our mom. Which obviously didn't help the situation, but she did wake up and everything was fine.

Now our dad says that he's actually really glad they attacked him over what they thought was going on, because it means he raised good boys. And I still think that's true, they're very good boys.

[kaiser1ns]

TAKIISHI CHIKA IN CHAPTER 153

[bear-cubs-art-things]

Chat we might be getting the Main Five OUAW plushies

[quetzal-animations]

Jazz, but he's 29! >:D

I've wanted to do an adult Jazz design for a while, and now I have. >:3

Victory is mine.

And if anybody's curious about Donnie's situation, he's Jazz's boyfriend. (In my head, pls don't come after me.) Suffice it to say, he feels... conflicted.

[hyp3rfixation-h3ll]

alright chat . it's time for "dissecting the inherent tragedy of transformers: botbots and the relationships in them":

toxic doomed yuri edition ( referring to these two ↑ )

(yes, i made this picmix myself 4 this. i have no regrets. also no tl;dr because you guys NEED to read this)

something i want y'all to understand is that it is Not about the idea that spud wasn't loved. he was VERY much loved by everyone, ESPECIALLY burgertron.

the whole point is that he sabotaged himself in the process of ruining someone else's life, someone who valued him and his word above others. he and burgertron BOTH let their ego get in the way of their personal lives, the only difference is that burgertron at least had the dignity to swallow his pride and apologise when it mattered most.

He gave spud a second chance because he loved him. because he recognised that he does deserve redemption, and above all else, he wants spud to know he cares, even if that means he'll never see him again, or they'll never be friends. (Even in light of the "sidekick" comment, i genuinely don't think he held any inherent malice in that statement. even if burgs was an egotist, he still loved him.)

the worst thing burgertron did in their relationship was be unaware, and im sure that despite his ego, he never meant for spud to get hurt. that's why he went out of his way to protect him, when he couldve just stood there and let spud get put on the back of a truck to never be seen again. it would have been easy.

but he didn't. he did the hard thing. the Right thing. he stood up for someone who never did the same for him.

Spud Was Loved. Spud Is loved. and sometimes love isn't going to look pretty, or manifest in holding hands and cuddling, and it isn't all rainbows and sunshine. it can hurt. it can be letting go of someone who you hurt by accident, who you never meant to harm, but it happened anyways because you made the fatal mistake of being oblivious.

And that's what Burgertron did. he let Spud go, because he understood they both needed time to heal on their own terms. regardless of if he's mad at him or not, he does still harbor positive feelings for him, and he stood up for him during times he probably shouldn't have. If he ACTUALLY hated spud, he wouldn't have stuck his neck out for him at bot prom. or believe spud when he was lying through his teeth in the games.

And that's what makes them so tragic. perhaps in another world, another life, they'd have been Actual good friends, who truly stuck by each other. maybe things would have been different.

But we'll never know that now, will we?

[anachronistic-falsehood]

CELLBIT IS ROBBING THE GREEN TEAM AND CHARLIE HAS KIDNAPPED AN NPC WE'RE SO BACK

[skyburger]

frye 😭😭😭😭

[bloopf1sh]

i hate people

(rant abt shipping in the tags. dont like dont interact.)

[lil-gae-disaster]

what I gotta do: study for latin, bake muffins, work out my oc, do my English homework

Me: I'M DONE WITH PLASTIC PROMISES!! Aggressive dancing on bed w Plastic Promises - Set It Off playing

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

almost at 3k for the day <3 how silly of me <3

[gigamuffin]

a card for my dentist that says "sorry for the tooth decay"

[badolmen]

*leaves a comment on every single chapter of a fic as I read it* *author replies to every single comment with increasing giddiness and excitement*

This is good. I’m getting a good grade in fic reader. This is both something that is normal to want and possible to achieve.

[theworstcreature]

I think TMM is becoming my go to baking music

[blujayonthewing]

looking at the bag of apples we brought home last weekend with my hands on my hips like. I am going to have to make apples my whole personality

[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?!"