#shut up debra

[iced-chaii]

love going back to older smosh vids and seeing the comments like “they hated each other here” thx debra your insight is so valuable

[polaris-likethestar]

the coven fr js a family bc we got slightly pyscho daugther (agatha), the somehow put-together mom (lilia), the daugther's on-again, off-again, slightly more pyscho girlfriend (rio), their child of (several) divorce(s) (teen), that one responsible cousin you always see but have no idea how y'all are related (jen), that one irresponsible cousin you always see but have no idea how y'all related (alice) and that one aunt (sharon)

[doehoney]

Debra Morgan do you ever shut the fuck up

[never-not-ever]

If you don't say "bless you" when your cat sneezes you're a shitty human being. They deserve to get blessings too.

[portmantaur]

healing & learning to legitimately cope are so good when you get to see the dividends but it’s a lifelong journey that also kind of requires you to be proud of yourself for things that sometimes sound objectively silly & thus you have to judge (for my own part, largely incorrectly) who you can effectively and reasonably share that with

sure sure i get that “i avoided starting like 15 inconsequential arguments about stuff i misunderstood today” sounds like something that shouldn’t take effort to most ppl but it’s very difficult for ME, Debra, i have Chronically Confused And Annoyed Combative Bitch Disease let me HAVE THIS

[labradorite-princess]

I'm waiting for a book to come in the mail and I am v impatient about it! I want to read the spooky clown circus book now! I also ordered a book by the same author for my cousin. And I wanna see it!

Here's the books (links takes you to Etsy):

Circus at Devil's Landing

The Root Witch

[stelashe]

Good afternoon to everyone, if you're a dentist or an assistant I hope u die

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 5

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

2 weeks later.... Friday

Eli: There’s a refresher and a donut waiting for u at the L&D desk ms I don’t like coffee. 

Kiyana rolled her eyes with a grin as she texted Eli back. Josh narrowed his eyes as he watched Kiyana smile down at her phone. He tried to ignore it but when she started to actually giggle at the fucking phone he snuck around the kitchen counter and tried to get a peek at who she was texting but she caught on and quickly locked her phone and set down on the counter. 

“You need something?” She asked, rolling her eyes when his eyes glanced down at her phone.  “You got anything planned today or yall just gonna chill?” She asked, grabbing her lunch out of the fridge. When she turned back around he had her phone in his hands.“HEY!” She called out,  snatching her phone out of his hands. “What are you doing?” 

“You changed your password?” She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Why were you trying to go through my phone? We are div-” 

“Divorced. Yeah you keep bringing it up.”  She rolled her eyes and grabbed her bag. 

“I get off at 9. Will y’all be good until then?” Josh nodded, his jaw was clenched tight as he kept thinking about how Kiyana changed her password to her phone. Kiyana rolled her eyes at his attitude before walking out of the kitchen and towards the front door. 

“I love you!” She called out to the boys and Josh heard them call it back before the front door slammed shut. 

“Love you too.��� He muttered before going to join his sons in the living room. 

“So you at Dr. Daniels seem to be getting close.” Debra , the senior nurse stated as she eyed the drink in Kiyana’s hand. Kiyana shrugged

“He’s cool.” 

“Cool enough to be talking about asking you on a date.” Debra said, smirking when Kiyana snapped her head towards her. 

“No, we’re just friends.”  Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt. Her inner voice said. 

Debra rolled her eyes. “Honey, I helped deliver Elijah forty-something years ago and that man still doesn't bring me coffee everyday.”  Kiyana bit her lip and looked down the hall to where Eli was talking with another nurse. “Look, I know you just got divorced but shit, take the chance. You don’t have to fall in love with him.” Kiyanna sighed and shook her head, it was way too soon for her to even think about going on a date with another man. Her divorce was still fresh, like an open wound. 

“ I think Key already talking to somebody else.” Josh blurted out as he, Trinity and Jon sat in their backyard, keeping a close eye on his two older boys who were swimming. He had put Kairo down for a nap. 

“Well you were fucking someone else while y’all were married so who cares.” Trin said, smacking Jon on his shoulder when he elbowed her in her ribs. “I mean what did you expect? Kiyana is very attractive and now she’s single.”  Trin shrugged. 

“Don’t kick the man while he’s down Trin.” 

“Yeah, damn Trinity. I thought we were better than that.” Josh tried to joke but Trinity was still very pissed off at him. “I know I fucked up. But it’s only been two weeks.” 

“How long is she supposed to wait? Until you’re ready for her to move on?” Trin rolled her eyes. “Leave that woman alone. Her life is no longer a concern of yours..”  Josh didn’t say anything as he brought his attention back to his sons. How was I supposed to get her back if she’s moved on already?

“Fuck him” Shanté muttered. “Fuck him and his stupid mullet. It’s 2024, the eighties called, they want their hairstyle back.” She said giggling at her own joke.  Nikkita rolled her eyes from where she was sitting on their couch. 

“Tae, I been told you to stop messing with that man, She might've divorced him but he still loves her. You can’t compete with that.”  Shanté flipped off her best friend and took another swig from the wine bottle they were passing back and forth. 

“He told me he never wanted to be with me, Nikki.” Nikkita didn’t respond back because.. Duh. It was pretty obvious. Josh only hit Shanté up after the RAW tappings on Monday’s and as soon as he would fly back home to Pensacola he would block her, then start the cycle all over again the next Monday. Nikkita felt bad for her friend but she had also warned her the first time Shanté had told her she hooked up with Josh. 

Kiyana was Josh’s high school sweetheart and from experience, Nikkita knew that Shanté never stood a chance. 

Kiyana let out a sigh of relief as she clocked out for the day. She can finally go home and be with her boys for 3 whole days.  Just as she was about to walk out the front door she heard her name being called. She turned and smiled once she saw it was Elijah. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey,” He said back slightly out of breath. “I ran all the way down here. Though I missed you.” He smiled at her. 

“You just caught me.” She said, feeling herself blush under the heat of his stare. “Wassup?” 

“I wanna take you out tomorrow night.” Kiyana blinked. “If it's too soon. I apologize, but I really like you Kiyana.” She clutched her purse strap tighter as she felt the butterflies in her tummy start to rumble around.  Kiyana only got that feeling with one man before and she had just divorced him two weeks ago. 

Elijah sighed as she just stared at him. “It’s too soon isn’t it?”  Kiyana quickly broke out of her stupor and shook her head. 

“No,” She cleared her throat. “ I would love to go out with you” 

“Yeah?” Eli asked. “Bet, do you have a babysitter for tomorrow?” Kiyana nodded. “Okay, tomorrow at 8. Text me your address.” 

Kiyana bit her lip as she watched him run back into the hospital, the butterflies more intense as she thought about their date tomorrow night. She let out a groan and let her head fall back, looking towards the sky. She was so fucking screwed. 

Kiyana got her first date since the divorce.. Josh about to be soooooooooooooooooooooooooo fucking petty 😭, y'all just don't understand.

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

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@jeysbae @kill-the-artiste @simpin4pixels @mindairy

[spdrvyn]

i love my husband — miguel o'hara drabble

fluff. heavy inspo on this video.

sorry for the inactivity and the lazy ass title, exam week came around before i could even start on the next request and i did nothing but relax the entire break (which was only FOUR days) so i'll bring this out and see if i can clear my sched enough to actually do shit. enjoy!

the moonlit sky reflects beautifully onto the shining surface of your mug, filled to the brim of chamomile tea and flooding your nostrils with delight as your body melts into the couch.

work kept you on the edge of your seat for the entire week, it was non-stop meetings and non-stop emergency calls even outside of your working hours that had you so stressed. you were sure you'd picked enough hairs out to make a wig.

the weekend is truly a blessing, you want to stay as far away as humanly possible from your phone and shut yourself out from civilization before you come protector of debra's last minute files.

you missed the soft cotton of your pajamas, not like you haven't worn them in the past couple of days but to actually be able to appreciate what it means to wear them and the greeting of a good night's sleep had you sighing and moaning almost a little too much.

you worked hard, you definitely deserved this. you grab a spare pillow and tuck it under your head turning to the side and looking at the city that surrounded you, your patience and tenacity at the office has now been rewarded with the view you're able to appreciate.

however, the shadow that looms over the carpeted floors of your flat don't go away even after rubbing your eyes. you look up and a faint red glow in the symbol of a very familiar spider catches your eye immediately, you smile lazily through the glass.

miguel slides open the door with no hesitation, cape still drifting in the wind from what you can only assume to be his own previous working activities. you can sense the tension wafting off of him like waves especially as he stomps all the way over to where you are on the couch and looks down at you.

his mask isn't off, he's still fully geared, and all you can do is stare back into those lenses.

that is until he surrenders, body giving up, and his body flops right on top of yours. it doesn't really surprise you, there have been times where miguel has come home after a worse day of saving the multiverse and traps you in a hug before you can protest or move. though you've never really seen him do this before.

he adjusts his position, but still keeps his arms tightly wrapped around you as you move as well so that you're holding him back. his face is buried into the crook of your neck and the feeling of his nose tickling your skin tells you that he unmasked already.

not a single word leaves his mouth, you silently adore the way he's melted into you already, the way the muscles on his back rise only to slowly fall again.

you don't want to break the silence, neither of you do. right now, the only form of communication that matters is touch. your lips burning kisses into his curls, your nose now erasing whatever of your tea was left and making the way for miguel.

he shies away from your touch with a small groan, "i stink."

a giggle threatens to break out from the back of your throat, as many times as he would insist that you'd keep going anyway. "so when you do it, it's fine? i see how it is then."

miguel chuckles, he inches himself into you further. deeper. his breaths become less and less shallow, it's clear that he's taking his fair share of sniffs from you as well. "because you smell good."

"i ran a bath, that's why." one last peck to his head and you opt to just comb his hair instead, running your fingers through the strands and observing as they twist back to curl after brushing it some more.

both of you stay like that for a while, not saying anything, not doing anything, just being here. existing with each other. you always find moments like these beautiful, even when miguel is probably one work call away from shaking hands with the grim reaper.

in miguel, you've found yourself open to so many new experiences and risks you could've never imagined on your own. despite the many amount of times at the start of your relationship that he'd give you space and wouldn't be mad if you left, you kept still by his side anyway. you knew that he was worth it.

in you, miguel found that mundanity that he's never had his whole life. passing out on the sofa on his own never felt the same, most times he'd wake up still in his suit and would have to go to work right after anyway. yet with you, the stress ebbed away over time because he knew that you'd always be waiting for him.

whatever historians had with their relics, miguel had with you. not to keep them confined in a metal case, of course not, but he felt as if you were to be revered. kissed and touched with utmost respect and you'd bring the people their good fortunes and long lives. you certainly did for him and miguel might as well be immortal now.

his hands wander, fingertips delicately grazing over the skin tucked beneath your nightwear. he goes slowly, traveling up to your chest where he—

"miguel?"

his hands freeze, face going red. the guilt of possibly going too far is ready to break free from his heart and consume him until he can feel your body trembling with laughter.

"since you apparently stink so bad, shouldn't you shower first before getting so handsy?" miguel pouts at your comment, he already had the apologies locked and loaded for you.

"just a few more minutes, corazón."

[olderthannetfic]

I think one of my biggest pet peeves is when people misunderstand the statement "I avoid politics in my hobby" or some variation, on purpose and the most offensive and wrong way possible.

You god damn pieces of shit know god damn well that I don't mean "Oh so you think poc and queer people need to stay out of hobbies because our existence is inherently political." Shut the fuck Debra, you're just being wilfully stupid because you have nothing else going for you other than constantly being belligerent about politics. If your life is that miserable that you can't even shut the fuck up about politics in a space about a game where you live in a town with animals, and you beat them with nets, then just piss off and stay in politic spaces instead.

Human's aren't made to be 24/7 on edge, that includes poc and queer people. If your entire fucking presence is politics, you're destroying yourself. Do that, if you wanna burn out then fucking do that. But some people understand everything needs a balance. And you fucking know what? As a fucking fag who's experienced a lot, and I mean A LOT of shit for being myself in all my rainbow fucking glory, I get to wind down and not constantly deal with the shit daily life throws at me when I read my current favourite manga or book.

--

[rubbish-and-whatnot]

Hello, can i request a Yandere Eyeless Jack but the MC works for a different entity? Would they clash or just passive? It's up to you if you want to make the MC human or whatever you want.

If possible, i want the mc to be completely devoted to the entity they're working on, they work for it willingly and have accepted it whole heartedly. Bye i asked for too much 🥰.

Eyeless Jack x rival! cultist! reader

(unedited) I had some fun writing this one. I may have taken a few liberties here and there. Let me know what you think! I have extra time away from work for requests because of Hurricane Debby. Thanks Debra <3

The restraints on the hospital bed were a little tighter than comfortable. You thrashed around nevertheless trying to at the very least loosen them enough to slip through. When that didn’t work you screamed out in white hot anger. 

“Let me go! This isn’t fair,” You cried out to your captor who was just casually sipping his coffee and doing his crossword puzzle at his desk. 

“Do you renounce your allegiances to… what’s his face?” He waved his pencil around in the air as if to find the blank in his mind. 

“Of course not! He is my life. He is my blood! He-“

“Then no. I’m not letting you out of those restraints until you are fully deprogrammed,” he flipped the page and sighed. 

Eyeless jack. A formidable foe who works under the being called The Operator. In the past year you’ve made a group of amazing and trustworthy friends. Found yourself living in a new community. Cut your ties with your family. Made an excellent relationship with the prophet. Really threw yourself into your faith. Jack, however, has been on your trail every turn. Every book club, every fundraiser, every hunt he was there. Being a devout follower meant a very healthy social life, don’t ya know?

“How is my thing all that different from your thing?! We’re both just putting in the work for a cause we believe in,” You stop thrashing to take a breath. He snapped his magazine shut and spun around on his chair. 

“It couldn’t be more different. I am bound to my entity, you’re trapped by your own mind,” he placed his hands firmly on the guards on either side of your bed, “If one of us can actually be free then I will find away. Until then it’s restraints and force-fed meals for you.”

“You are so stubborn!” You hollered. 

“Said the cultist,” he replied. 

“I am not in a cult.” You said defensively for the billionth time. 

“Oh really. Then why do you follow what the prophet says so seriously?” 

“Because it’s a sin not to. Those who don’t trust the prophet are punished by the community, they are the conduits for Thalorgorath’s will.”

“See that is something that was drilled into you verbatim. Most people don’t take their religion that intensely. Also most religions don’t punish the non-believers by using people they thought they could trust,” Jack wrestled with one of the guards to slide it down into place and take a seat on the edge of your bed. “You used to be so full of life. The way you would laugh with your whole chest. I remember how you would sing at the top of your lungs with the radio blasting and the windows down. You glowed,” Jack took a strand of hair and rolled and twisted it around his gloved fingers. Your sparkle had dimmed so immensely since you joined that cult. You’re paler, more solemn, all seriousness and gloom. 

Jack was stationed to work mostly in a specific small town, your small town. He saw you before and after. Now, it really did help that you began to interfere with his work. That’s the only reason he can have you here now. You were looking for a sacrifice for your god and half the time that just so happened to be Jack’s next target. So your paths began to cross regularly. You would always flee the scene in a villainous ‘I’ll get you next time for sure!’ kind of fashion. As time passed and you kept returning empty handed you began to get more and more desperate. You began to waste away. 

“I brought you here because I care about you more than anyone in your community ever could. Their love is conditional on how devout a follower you are. I like you just the way you are. Good. Evil. Atheist. Cultist. I just want the real you back,” he sighed. 

You shuffled uncomfortably. The memories of before, seeing Jack and talking with him, sharing a coffee with him on the outskirts of the woods. They were comforting and feeling awfully compelling in this moment. There was a time you thought you might’ve liked Jack yourself. But that’s all in the past. A life of sin you must spend the rest of your life atoning for. 

“She’s dead.” You spat. 

“I don’t think that’s true,” He let go of your hair and started rifling in his pockets, “If your prophet were so holy then explain this,” he laid out several polaroids of the man in question. Him living in a lavish house paid for by all the tithes that were so important. Him indulging in the sin of the flesh again and again and again, coercing members and sex workers into doing exactly what he wanted. Him with his stockpile of illusionist supplies for his miracles. Even a picture of him sitting on his couch with his legs propped up on the coffee table on top of the holy text. And one of him spilling his beer on it. We weren’t even allowed to drink alcohol. It was considered contraband that was worth ten lashings. 

You just sat there and stared at them, your brain doing figure eights trying to make sense of it, and not liking that it kept coming to the same conclusion. 

“I don’t want to look at these,” You clamped your eyes shut and turned your head. Some jostling around your bed didn’t make you open your eyes but the sound of tape being ripped of the dispenser did. Jack stood on the mattress and taped the polaroids so they’d hang down from the ceiling right in your line of sight. 

“It sounds like they’re working then. I’m going to keep these up until I get new ones. But for now,” he hopped off and dusted off his hands, “It’s time for lunch. I’ll grab you a sandwich and juice,” he waved on his way out the door. You sunk deeper in bed and blew some hair out of your face. 

Jack often slept in the infirmary so this wasn’t much different. Now though he found himself watching you sleep rather than his usual ritual of tea and a book before bed. There was plenty of time for that during the day. This was the only time he could look at you without your harsh glare stabbing back. There’s no cult. There’s no hate. There’s just a guy looking at the women he can’t stop thinking about. Jack pulled up his mask and kissed your forehead before switching the lamp off. 

It was rainy. Weeks have passed now. You wouldn’t talk much at all anymore. You just watched weather pass out the window, maybe the occasional deer or cryptid. It was so hard to believe in a world where all of that impossible bullshit exists, to comprehend that the one thing you truly believed in was a sham. Your days were mostly you and your bed and two walks (handcuffed to Jack) to keep your muscles in functioning condition. Eerily enough, you stopped putting up a fight. So here you sat. Still and lost in your own mind. Jack would glance up from his book every now and then to look at you. The rain pattered against the window that was open just a crack, just enough to smell just a hint of petrichor. 

“Do you remember that first night that I almost found my sacrifice?” You asked wistfully, watching the droplets merge and plummet to the edge of the pane. 

“Uh… yeah. He was my next target. Didn’t put up much of a fight since you scared him real bad before I even got there,” He turned another page. 

“And you tossed me behind you so you could get to him first,” You laughed a meek little chuckle. 

“I didn’t realize that you fell on the ground. Then you grabbed my ankles taking me down with you,” He laughed too. 

“We were slathered in mud and dead leaves,” You began to laugh harder. 

“It got in your mouth too. I remember you trying to spit it out,” He smiled a the memory. 

“…I’m starting to wonder what it was all for,” you returned to your previous state of sitting upright and staring out the window.

“A stupid man with a god complex got in your head. It happens to the best of us. I’m just glad there was no Koolaid involved,” He cradled his chin with his interlaced fingers. 

“Flavoraid.”

“Huh?”

“It was Grape Flavoraid in Jonestown. Not Koolaid.”

Jack woke up with a startle and saw your bed empty and the restraints cut through. It had been several months and you had made excellent progress. Still you didn’t talk much, but when you did It wasn’t nearly as crazy as you’ve sounded in the past.  

He was so close to trusting you enough to let you go, but was it all a lie? Were you faking it to just run back to your community? Was everything you both worked through a ruse? He threw the blankets off the bed. Wretched the closet door open and slammed it shut. In his frenzy he didn’t notice the steam coming out from under the bathroom door. 

You opened and stepped out of the bathroom and continued to towel dry your hair. Jane had lent you some of her clothes, which were more risqué than you’ve worn in years (that’s not saying much though. It was a very modest community you lived in). Jane was a firm believer in if you got it flaunt it. She was just helping you along. Either way you paired the black slip with a sweater underneath for maximum comfort. You pressed the pedal to the trash can and dropped your old cloak into it. 

“Y/n?” Jack stood still and gaped at you. 

“Hey,” you dropped your towel onto the bed and began to make it. 

“Are you… feeling alright?” 

“I feel… different,” you walk up to him and take his hands into yours, “I’ve been thinking about it and I wanted to say thank you. You believed in me even when I didn’t,” you tried not to sound emotional but it came through in croaks and cracks in your soft voice. He felt you press something into his hands and curl his fingers around it. You walked up to the doors and hoisted up the duffel bag he didn’t notice there. In his hand was an old, used, wooden coffee stirrer, one that’s branded with the initials of the cafe you would buy both of your coffees from. 

“You’re leaving? So soon?” He followed you out of the infirmary and down the hall. 

“I need time to figure the rest out. You brought me to the water and now it’s time for me to take initiative and drink,” You adjusted the strap on your shoulder. The duffel was filled to the brim with supplies you scrounged up from all over the house. Nothing that would be missed. 

“But there’s always space for you here. Even if you aren’t with me in the infirmary we can set up a room for you. Just for you! We can put anything you could want or need in it,” He snatched your arm, you stopped in your tracks. 

“Jack. I need to start fresh. I want a new town and a new name. I want something normal. Uncomplicated,” You grimaced. He took a long pause mostly because of the frog in his throat. 

“Then I’ll make it easy for you,” he handcuffed his wrist to yours. “We’re in this together. Whether you like it or not,” his voice was more grave than you’ve ever heard it before. 

[stardust-poet]

°•~《☆》~•°

°•Lazy Days•°

°•~《☆》~•°

Pairing: Zenitzu Agatsuma x gn!reader

A/n: request from a friend: @gacha-lava

Warnings: kissing if that makes you uncomfortable, also bad writing probably OOC zenitzu tbh T^T not proof read.

Enjoy!

When you first woke up, you were cold. The usual warmth and weight that always lay on your chest was gone. Meaning Zenitzu was no longer here with you.

The calendar, bedside tables, his side of the bed (though he never actually slept there, he always was attached to you). Nothing. No note, no sign he was ever even there. Nothing.

You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and stumbled into the kitchen. And immediately, your worry, anxiety, panic. It all left you as quickly as it came.

There he was. Ah, your beautiful boy. He was still in his pajamas cooking breakfast and--wait. Breakfast? Cooking? That was what you always did. Mostly because you didn't trust him to cook.

"Zenitzu?" You called quietly, walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his waist. Zenitzu hummed in response, focused solely on flipping the pancake he was cooking at the right moment.

"Why're you up so early?" You mumbled, nuzzling in the crook of Zenitzus neck, sending shivers down his spine.

He really never got used to your touch. Well, he had your touch memorized. It was you actually giving him affection that never got old. So warm, cozy, like his own home.

" 'm making breakfast just for you." Zenitzu kept his voice lower so he didn't startle you out of your sleepy state. He rested his cheek on top of your head, kissing your head before flipping the pancake. Which was perfectly golden brown.

"This early?" You mumbled and looked up at the clock on the microwave above the stove. 7:00 am, way too early for a Saturday, especially after a long week of work.

"I was gonna bring it to you in bed so you didn't have to move at all. though, I guess I can't do that now that you're awake." Zenitzu chuckled, sliding the pancake onto his spatula and then onto another pancake on a plate, making a stack.

Zenitzu poured syrup over your pancakes in a zig-zag motion, then he smiled and held out his hands in the pancakes' general direction. "Taa-daa!!" He said happily, grinning like a love-sick puppy. You smiled, and instead of taking your pancakes and eating them on the couch, you grabbed Zenitzu by the waist and pulled him closer to you.

His face flushed, of course. How could it not with a deity such as you touching him softly? You brought your hands from his waist to his cheeks, cupping his sweet face.

"Thank you." You whispered, inches away from his faces, your nose brushing against his. Zenitzus face couldn't have been more red. You'd think he'd get used to the intimacy by now.

"Nnm-mhm." He hummed while he took in every detail of your face, and your lips ghosted over his. You chuckled lightly, your hot breath tickling his face.

You closed the gap between you two, kissing him. Not a simple kiss, like one after a first date. But a longer, more passionate one. It sent the feeling of electricity down Zenitzus spine, and he softly held your waist as his eyes fluttered shut.

Suddenly, you felt warmth and something fuzzy moving between your legs.

Ah, yeah. The cat. You pulled away from Zenitzus lips, triggering a whine out of him and you chuckled.

"Alright, Debra, the Astriod Destroyer. (Best Name Ever). I'll get you food." You said to your cat, moving to scoop cat food into his bowl, away from Zenitzu.

°•~《☆》~•°

You sat at the foot of the couch, not directly on it with Zenitzus back to your chest and his head resting under your chin.

Zenitzu held the buttery popcorn that you had made in the microwave, both of you eating straight out of the bag while a movie played on the TV. Some drama about mean girls?

It was peaceful, for once. You felt Zenitzus hair tickling your nose while your arms wrapped around his waist. It's was so cozy, warm, comfortably lazy.

Zenitzu intertwined his fingers with yours and kissed your hand. You could feel his smile as his lips connected with your skin. He felt safe. You both felt safe.

This was home.

The white noise of the TV, your arms wrapped around him, his fingers intertwined with your own, your chin resting at the top of his head, and the soft kisses placed to one another's skin every few minutes.

Home.

°•~《☆》~•°

Yayy my first fic. It's probably horrible and OOC I know.

[pocket-watcher]

Story where a Cheshire Cat entity kidnaps people who all know each other (same class? Workplace? Camp?) to play Wonderland roles in its pocket dimension. Its last victim tries to free everyone only to become its Alice for eternity. Probably some Cheshire body shenanigans for the hypnosis parts

Ooo this is interesting! I’ve never read the original Alice in Wonderland, so correct me if I’m wrong, but I do think it could use a little more hypnosis…

Francine loved stories.

The hero comes, saves the day, and everyone lives happily ever after.

She would read on her commute, her book bounced back and forth by the rickety train. She’d catch herself daydreaming during meetings of a character coming to whisk her away. She would hope and pray for an exciting dream at night that she could replay in her head the next day.

But they were just stories.

Until one day, when Caine in accounting didn’t show up for work.

And then Debra went missing.

And Steven. And Layton.

And even her manager Bella.

It was a ghost town in the office. Francine couldn’t hide in her stories any longer. People jumped at every noise, tip-toeing around each other.

Someone said they saw some kind of creature skulking about.

Francine was scared, sure. But the police said nothing could be done without evidence.

She thought maybe they knew something and were trying to keep it hush-hush.

Francine, in the silence of the office, found herself dozing off a little.

And that was when it got her.

She fell right through the floor and into a plush seat at the head of an impossibly long table, set for afternoon tea.

“Finally! You’re late.” Caine said, plastic smile, and a giant top hat.

Francine froze, mentally replaying the previous moments in her head, control c-ing and v-ing her excel sheet over and over.

“Did I die…?”

“Heavens no, Alice! You just arrived at the tea party!”

She whipped round her head to see Debra dressed in a waistcoat with a rabbit headband.

Next to her were the others: in reds and whites, matching striped shirts, and all with teacups in hand.

Next to her she spotted a pair of floating eyes.

Naturally Francine jumped out of her seat and screamed.

The eyes became a head, which also had a cat-like body that faded into view.

“What are you?!” She yelled.

“Oh Alice, is that any way to treat an old friend?” The cat smiled, twirling around in the air.

“I don’t know you.” She stood defiantly, staring at her coworkers still-smiling faces. Their eyes were locked on her. “And I’m not Alice.”

“Yes you are… you just need a little persuading.”

The cat drew closer and its eyes were all Francine could see. She recoiled at the bright colours, covering her eyes instinctively.

“Get away from me!!” She yelled, running to Layton’s side.

He grinned down eerily at her.

“Layton, please! It’s me!! You’ve got to snap out of it.”

He didn’t even blink.

A wispy tail appeared out of no where, whisking her backwards into the cat’s claws once more.

“Just relax, Alice. This is a tea party. It’s supposed to be dignified, you know.” Bella said, raising her glass and her pinky with her glassy-eyed look.

Francine thrashed about as the head behind her detached and moved in-front of her vision, blocking the others from her sight.

“Please, please… I know you’re still in there!” She screamed at them.”

Her eyes were scrunched shut. That’s when she felt it purring.

It relaxed her body. She felt she couldn’t move.

“Please. Anyone…” she weakly pleaded.

That’s when she saw the cat appear in the chair she’d been sat in. Her body was hunched over on the ground now.

“Come along, Alice. Just drink your tea. You’ll feel better…”

The disembodied paw held the cup out in-front of her.

Everyone sat, watching, waiting.

Her arm moved by itself and brought the liquid to her lips.

Despite her struggle she swallowed it, and as she looked up at her coworkers she saw her friends and she smiled.

“I’m terribly sorry about all of that. Is there still a seat for me?” She said sweetly.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

same anon shouting as before because SIR YOUR TSGS

https://www.tumblr.com/fandomfluffandfuck/770223712724205568/extremely-specific-au-concept-chris-evans-loud?source=share

related to this earlier ask

but actually related to this AU post with the tags #there's just something about that picture of 2007 chris evans... something that just screams hot and if you looked at his id you'd scream #because how is even his shitty government photo hot!? wtf #he shows up and hes maybe hung over and looking at seb with heavy eyes and sebastian is sweating through his shirt blushing #this guy lays it on thick too #saying he'd wait for hours just too look at his pretty face again #and then he has to take his photo and this guy leans his head back to stick out his plush lips and emphasize that jaw and thick neck #suddenly seb is melting into his seat #a puddle

You know exactly what I mean, though!! C'mon! He'd be all fucking Boston with that pouty, fat bottom lip, his rough, worn-from-shouting voice (an example because 🥴🥴 yeah), and heavily lidded eyes. I just see him sitting in one of those shitty, squeaky plastic seats at the DMV, waiting with his head tipped back against the wall, incidentally arching and exposing his thick neck along with his portruding Adam's apple, his throat constricting with every bored swallow, his eyes passively shut so his lashes actually cast fucking unreal shadows across his sharp cheekbones and goddamn freckles? Are those freckles? Sebastian can't really tell from this distance, but if they are, he's actually going to go insane.

Why must God have favorites?

'Cause this fuckin' guy with his plush mouth and pale skin and freckles and entire, just, body of muscles is thee favorite.

Sebastian finds himself rushing through a few patrons with the express purpose of calling this guys ticket. Take that, Debra. He's mine. It's a bad idea, though, because when he's standing (towering, actually) in front of Sebastian, Sebastian doesn't know what to do with himself.

Those heated eyes land on him, looking at him like he might want to eat him with a spoon (he could, he should), and Seb forgets every pre-rehersed, standard line he's supposed to say. He's so stupidly distracted, too, when Chris has to start signing paperwork and shit and he gets a front row seat to watching those hands work--thick fingers, visible veins, and broad palms.

Jesus.

Sebastian just about squirms in his seat when it comes time to take his picture and Chris takes the time to straighten out his necklace, making sure the pendant is at the center of his huge, fucking massive chest. It's not just his chest, though. It's his neck. His neck is thick.

gif by @/dailychrisevans

Sebastian's knees have turned to water, and there's nothing he wants more than to lean on this entire specimen of a man in front of him.

[latibulater]

The way the entire movie could've been done better. IDK!!! I feel like it tried to do too much with too little time, tried to be too cute instead of direct. I'm bothered by the writing for the twins GRANDMOTHER who has apparently MET THEM both MULTIPLE TIMES and lives DOWN THE ROAD but keeps her distance anyways. And I don't understand the inconsistency between Bobbi controlling her powers when filming the movie, but then unable to stay visible for a shoot, but THEN can turn invisible at will for Jonas and Force Majeure. Also, Force Majeure was Jonas' ARCH RIVAL? You can't just drop that and leave that hanging what on earth!!!! I don't know how I feel about the writers introducing such a major character with the right emphasis but absolutely no follow through. When Sheila and Daisy find out Mantilla's parentage, that would have been a great moment for Daisy to say "Force Majeure the previous Sovereign of the GCI" and Sheila could add "Wasn't he Jonas' main arch?" And then Debra could cut in saying that wasn't the point, leaving it somewhat uncertain if FM was or wasn't, because there simply isn't enough time to GET INTO IT. I also didn't like that Sheila literally left her house in JERSEY in the DEAD OF NIGHT to go meet 3 male coworkers (one whom she hasn't known for very long and the other two not legally allied with her) in a SHEER TEDDY NIGHTIE. like okay. We get it haha Sheila is sooo cunt she's so confident in her sexuality haha wow no SHUT UUUUUUUUUUUUUUP. We are past that wave of feminism, in this modern day Sheila should have shown up in the Monarch's old nighty and a pair of Gary's sweatpants with her GCI jacket and boots on. UMMMM what else. I just cannot believe that the Ventech building didn't rain down holy destruction from NYC to Colorado like jesusfuckingchrist. And very obviously the basement was torn up as well, and I'm pretty sure that's like. Where sewage comes out and electricity comes in. And there's no reason why it should have been that clean of a break between the SKYSCRAPER and the surrounding building. There is LITERALLY a SUBWAY STATION right THERE. It's COLOMBUS CIRCLE. There are so many people who live there and yes there was a brief scene of people getting into accidents and the guy flipping over, I honestly would have enjoyed a scene of some family sitting down to dinner and then a giant piece of metal from the building crushes the house (could parody PnF) as an example of more classic vbros and the destruction created by the arching business. ANNNNND lastly but certainly not leastly, the fact that the saphrax protocol and the movie are all supposed to happen in the same 2-3 day span is fucking ridiculous

[samfisheyy]

Dexter OC - Samantha Fassnacht (Moser)

my gal!!! here's her links and some art of her :p Toyhouse Character Hub

any art of her and brian is not canon in her lore/part in the story... they never met and she never knew who he was

her and her imaginary best friend (MASA!! @/el4st1k) , 2nd pic is them as adults

her again - design a bit more clear Some info (Might update)

Brian Moser left his 'girlfriend' of a few months right after finding out about her pregnancy. He had just left the psych ward a few years back, and was not ready for a family whatsoever. He left her on a random day, and never returned. Beate Fassnacht was forced to raise the child on her own, and she named her Samantha. She went by Samantha Fassnacht her entire life, although legally it was still Moser.

After about 10 years of Beate raising Samantha, she also randomly left. Samantha was left to fend by herself for the rest of her teenage years, living in the house she did with her mother now completely alone. She developed an imaginary friend, Masa, who practically enabled her behaviour in every way. Masa was only a figment of her mind - which was a way for her to distinguish her reality checks that her head would automatically do - just in form of an imaginary friend who'd make unnecessary sarcastic comments.

Her mother apparently moved to Utah to start a new life and family, and began sending money to pay for the bills and of course, also added some pocket money. During the rise of The Bay Harbour Butcher and Ice Truck Killer cases, she received a letter, talking about an Uncle she had from her father's side. She didn't think much of it, and obviously didn't want to meet him since she literally had no idea who her father was. Meeting anyone connected to him was like shooting her own foot.

She and Dexter Morgan met at a bus stop, while he was searching for an alibi after throwing a body into the bay. Samantha was there - waiting for her bus, and he offered her a ride. Skeptical, she walked up to the window and asked for some sort of ID, name, or anything she could use to feel at least a bit safer. That's when she saw his name, Dexter Morgan - and she realised that he was the man her mother was apparently talking about in the letter.

She became close with Dexter, Debra, Rita, and some members of the MMPD, but never met her father - and was always kept in the dark about him. She never asked Dexter about anything out of embarrassment, but did ask Debra.

She only ever found out about Brian after his death. Debra told her that he was her father, after she too was manipulated and almost killed by him. Samantha held a grudge against everyone ever since.

Extra :

Masa was the visualisation of a friend Samantha had as a friend. The real Masa is out there, and they've been in the same area more than once - they just never realised.

If Samantha and Brian hypothetically met, and Samantha didn't immediately shut him out of her life after yelling at him, they would have an extremely toxic bond. He could exhibit a superficial form of concern and care, but it would rather stem from a selfish standpoint. It'd be an opportunistic bond rather than an emotional one.

Samantha has a fascinating obsession with serial killers. The bond she has towards the topic stems from her family (Dexter, Brian…) and she could probably be described as a slightly more respectful version of a modern True Crime Podcast fan. She's just intrigued, and probably a bit obsessed - just not with being disrespectful towards the victims.

(NON CANON YET, HYPOTHETICAL)Now in her adult years, Samantha has become a Forensic Scientist like her Uncle. She took Brian Moser's nickname and persona, and began copying his craft. The MMPD now had to deal with The Ice Truck Killer coming back - and they had no idea who was behind it. Masa, her imaginary friend, was no longer a reality check personified, he was now an enabler - and was almost strictly there to help avoid any mistakes she'd make.

She also began seeing Brian Moser. Not as frequently, and not as much as Masa (considering Masa is basically always there by her side), but she still saw him every time she was working on the blood drainage - or anything relating to the preservation. (Somewhat like Dexter seeing him while on the boat.)

At the end of her run, and right before she dies, she sees Masa. The real one.

ICE TRUCK KILLER PERSONA

Victimology

Samantha was originally going to target the same people Brian did, however, with her studies and time living with Dexter, she began primarily targeting Pedophiles, Sex Offenders, and anyone with a history of harassment towards women. (Catcallers included - considering she experienced that.)

She has killed prostitutes before, but that was only to start her journey and spike up the MMPD's interest.

FORENSIC JOB

In her normal life, she works as a Forensic Scientist for the MMPD, however, she's also regarded as one of the better Detectives there. She does both, but has moved on from the lab. (Specifically because of her killing, if she was too good at finding the details as a Forensic, *from her own victims, they'd find it suspicious.)

if anyone else has a dexter oc.. we should make our ocs interact.. :3