bestmorgan

[bestmorgan]

HIATUS NOTICE ♥

[bestmorgan]

Why don’t you let me help Debra ?

[bestmorgan]

❝ you didn’t even taste it. ❞

@bestmorgan

                  IF  HIS  EYES  ROLLED  ANY  FASTER,  they  might  pop  straight  out  of  his  skull.      ❝ I  don’t  HAVE  to  taste  it.  I  can  smell  it,  that’s  enough  to  not  want  to  try  it.  ❞   PICKY  PICKY !

The  Five  Senses  //  Accepting

[bestmorgan]

       “ whatever --- ”   when that’s all you can think of saying,  it’s really safe to assume that you have not won the round ;   which is only fine with debra because,  like she has announced,  she’s off to find nourishment.  it’s only lightly ruined when the other gets up and states  - doesn’t even offer,  just straight up tells her -  she’s coming along.  

there’s a couple of things she can think of saying to make her stay,  but debs surprisingly doesn’t have enough fight in her at the moment to even start.  “ they must cramp often,  what with how uncomfortable coffins must be. ”  letting lila come with her doesn’t mean she’s not going to be mean.

cont.

@bestmorgan

     “Someone’s a bit of a grump this morning…” A grump every morning, and every waking hour after. Eyes watching the rolling spanse of city flit past, a tinge of humor colors her voice, teasing… 

     One jest, just the one, before she’d have to rein it in— ever so gentle with the younger Morgan’s indomitable temper. At least for now… “I’ll come with you.” Hopping to her feet, she slides past the other before a protest can be formed. “I need to stretch my legs anyhow.”

[bestmorgan]

there’s starters here

or maybe consider tagging / mentioning me in something ?

and there’s some sentence memes here ♥

[bestmorgan]

i’m kinda here !  ♥

[bestmorgan]

[bestmorgan]

                    random debra morgan gifs  -  featuring a Mood™

[bestmorgan]

I am so easy to manipulate because I just want to be special to somebody.

[bestmorgan]

                      IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT I DO OR WHAT I CHOOSE.                                                                                I’M WHAT’S WRONG.

[bestmorgan]

' you can do a lot of good work staying up all night and eating nothing but junk food, but probably not in the long term. '

john mulaney  \  @mcrtyrdom  -  accepting,  mutuals only

            “  this isn’t junk food,  gods eat this.  ”    she will have no one call the best cuban sandwiches that ever were mere   ‘ junk food ’   on her watch,  thank you very much.  in fact,  she’s going to rise from her unladylike sitting on the floor  - careful not to step on any papers -  just to shove the heavenly sandwich close to his face.   “ this,  my friend,  is a medianoche sandwich from café relampago.  it’s the best fucking thing you’ll ever eat,  every ingredient is selected just so your mouth can experience pure goddamned bliss with every single fucking bite.  so go on --- ”   

not only does she want to prove her point,  but she also doesn’t really want to reply to anything else from his statement.  because this late night work is,  indeed,  good work and she’s not going to die because of a little missed sleep.  “ come on,  take a bite. ” 

[bestmorgan]

TOKILLABARTON *

in a mirroring state to debra’s, the only thing he could think of at the moment when she redirected his question was: i have to. it’s an obligation, a necessity, because other lives are at stake. his brother’s, his girlfriend’s, an entire building of people, all depending on him and clint’s plan to save everyone. it’s an obligation, because his brother is looking up to him again.

in the moment, the right here and now, the past didn’t matter. his mistakes, rage neverending, they didn’t matter at all. because it was the past, a combination of everything that was wrong about him. only the present mattered, because it was the present that brought in the change, change towards the good, and to prove to everyone that he was capable of that shange the past only mattered in one thing -   – keeping the fight within. keeping the fight going. constants and variables.

burdened by the obligation on his shoulders ( and a personal vendetta to prove a point and to get his revenge ), he is still filled with determination. the fight is still within, the fire is still going. he looks back at her, contrating her softness with his inner drive, firece in its own rights.

      “    ——–  let’s go catch ourselves a clown.   ”

 she almost can’t believe this is her life now,  with her perps being more and more like super-villains from some shitty comic book instead of normal humans with superiority complexes.  it makes for easier identification,  sure,  but there’s certainly a lack of other perks when one bothers to sit down and try to compile a list.  

debra looks at him for a moment longer ;  his expression is set,  clearly,  his fingertips ready for a fight that she already feels might not come.  at least not how they expect it.  in fact,  part of her wants to wait a second longer --- she has always been instinctive,  never waits for backup and following her gut,  but this is something else entirely and she really doesn’t want anyone else to die.  these fuckers have already taken enough lives,  so maybe a plan would serve both of them better than simply trusting to have a full tank of rage and enough bullets in her gun.

             she doesn’t actually hesitate though,  debra simply brushes her fingertips on her holstered gun to make sure it’s still there and nods.  “ we’re gonna fucking rock the clown-hunting business. ”  there’s a pause,  she makes a grimace and looks back at him again,  “ that was fucking shit,  I ruined it.  ruined the whole vibe you had going.  just ----  pretend I didn’t say anything at all.  just stoic fucking silence. ”

[bestmorgan]

              “ you know,  it’s whatever.  think of me as switzerland when it comes to vigilantes ------ most of the times,  at least,  cause then one of these assholes comes to me all high and mighty and fucking tells me how to do my motherfucking job like i’m some idiot in a kid’s police costume and,  honestly,  that’s where i draw the fucking line. ” 

[bestmorgan]

LOVERSCORNED *

     Is that a challenge? “You know—– eventually you’re gonna have to come up with a better nickname; VAMPIRE is getting a bit repetitive.” And not creative in the slightest… She circles the jeep, wrenching one of the many legs free.  Plastic limbs piled at her feet, tucked under her arm.  “—-Mind helping me?” Chin just at the remaining torso, scooping up the limbs at her feet. 

      she side eyes the fake torso as lila mentions it to her,  gives her a quick rebuttal but ultimately sucks it up and goes to help her out.  “ it’s not repetitive if it’s the truth. ”  she doesn’t really feel at ease with the feeling of plastic in her hands,  it reminds her a bit too much of prosthetics,  so debra’s quick to shove it in the back of her own car,  “ you’re one creepy motherfucker. ”   ( doakes would be proud of her ).

[bestmorgan]

“Come… sit with me. Tell me a story.” luv rudy x o x o

cute / fluffy things  \  @m4limb  ( @roomone ) -  accepting,  mutuals only

        she meets his charming grin with one of her own.  just for one single second though,  after that her lips tighten into a thin line of disapproval.  unfortunately for him,  his charm is not going to work on her mood today ;  which means that,  instead of getting closer and amusing him with some super cheesy story,  debra looks down at where his sitting with a raised eyebrow and hits him with a     “ do I look like a fucking storyteller to you ? ”

[bestmorgan]

i’m here, i’m queer i really wanna do stuff so i’m going to try and send out everything in my drafts and make icons and  !!!  maybe you guys can come @ me so we can chat / plot or !! idk, let’s just do stuff ♥

[bestmorgan]

            “ you look stressed the fuck out,  buddy. ”  she raises the half-eaten doughnut in her hand,  almost as a toast to the other,  and takes a huge bite from it ;  debra chews slowly before shrugging.  “ but it’s fine,  go on --- take a doughnut.  I’m willing to share. ”