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#dab for debbie
astaraels · 5 months
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WIP Wednesday Tuesday! I just wanna share a snippet from the sebbie fic I'm working on. @m4ndysk4nkovich @holymurdock we need more femslash h/c agreed?
The evening started off quiet enough. Debbie had just put Franny to bed after a few bedtime stories, Ian and Mickey were having a quiet night on the couch—Ian had had a stressful day, which he'd mentioned a little of at dinner, and he was currently resting his head in Mickey's lap while they watched some old reruns of their favorite true crime shows. Ever since Ian had gotten his EMT job back, he'd been working himself into the ground trying to prove he deserved the second chance. Carl had gotten moved to night shift for a while, and Liam had finished his homework and gone to bed already. All things considered, Debbie was relieved that he was the one Gallagher they didn't have to worry about.
With a sigh, Debbie fell back on her bed and closed her eyes. It'd been a long, long day, and she just wanted five minutes to rest before she went and took a shower. Then there were footsteps on the stairs, and Debbie half expected to hear Ian and Mickey in the hallway when the door to her room opened and Sandy stood in the doorway, her face bloody and her jacket ripped in several places.
“Holy shit, what happened-?” Debbie started to ask, barely keeping her voice down so she wouldn't wake up Franny. Sandy shook her head; she didn't meet her eyes, only gesturing to Debbie to follow her out. After she closed the door behind her, Sandy sighed and rested her head on Debbie's shoulder.
“I…didn't wanna go back to the Milkovich house,” Sandy finally said, her voice low. She almost sounded…afraid. “I hope that's okay.”
Debbie nodded, hugging her girlfriend gingerly. “Yeah—yeah, no, that's fine. Let's go get you cleaned up.” She led her towards the bathroom, making sure to grab the first aid kit from the hall closet. Sandy sat on the small stool that they kept for Franny to reach the sink while Debbie put the toilet seat down so she could sit and tend to the injuries. With some peroxide on a cotton ball, she dabbed at the cuts on Sandy's face, shaking her head when Sandy flinched away. “Stop, we gotta make sure these don't get infected.”
“It's fine, I've had worse.”
But Debbie knew that Sandy was being too quiet—for her, anyway—which meant that the pain was worse than she wanted to let on. Instead she let Debbie clean up the cuts and scrapes, wincing at the peroxide on the open wounds. They both stayed silent as she worked. Once she was done, Debbie closed the bathroom door, then turned around and got the water running in the shower. “Here, hop in—I'll get some clean clothes for you.”
Sandy gave Debbie an unreadable look, but finally nodded and gingerly peeled her clothes off piece by piece until she stood naked in the middle of the bathroom, her clothing in a pile around her feet. Debbie caught Sandy's face in her hands and kissed her gently. “I'll be back in a second, okay?”
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ellie-24 · 1 year
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Special Request
Based on the awesome prompt by @vintageshanny : How are we going to solve this problem?
Tagging the coolest people I know: @be-my-ally @thatbanditqueen @whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love
Summary: Working as a hostess means meeting the most interesting people. Maybe even a certain Elvis Presley.
Warnings: 18+, smut, MDNI
Word count: ~ 3.1 k
Columbus, Ohio. June 25th 1974
"What were you doing with all those pillows earlier?" Debbie asked while holding up a small mirror, inspecting her eyebrows.
Anne sighed and lightly massaged her temples. "That one guest in 368... I don't know what's wrong with that guy. Today he asked if he could have 20 additional pillows."
"Didn't one guest request like 20 additional towels the other day?" Debbie asked, lowering the mirror.
Anne threw her hands up in frustration. "That's the same guy! No idea what he does with that. Frankly, I don't really care but still. What the hell?"
"I'm not even sure we want to know."
She pursed her lips. "That's probably true. Though-" Anne smiled, conspiratorially. "-I really wouldn't mind him asking for something crazy. To be honest I'm surprised there hasn't been some out of this world request from him. Like-" she gestured around, thinking. "-flying in his pet snake, or monkey, or whatever pets these celebrities own."
Debbie paused and turned towards her. "Like that one lunatic a few months ago with the pet spiders?"
Anne gave her a look. "Don't remind me. It drives me insane that one went missing. It's still crawling around somewhere." She shuddered at the thought.
Debbie laughed and nodded in response. After a few seconds she continued. "...It's still so crazy. Like the Elvis Presley is here. In the same building as we are right now. At our workplace."
"I know, it's so exiting!"
"I still think he was totally flirting with you earlier."
"He's Elvis Presley, I think he flirts with every woman on the planet."
"You really got to talk to him. And he winked at you I saw it!" Debbie swooned.
"He probably had something in his eye! And he didn't really say much. Asked if I could turn the AC on. Said he preferred his room to be nearly freezing." she shrugged.
"Celebrities."
"I know, right?"
In that moment the phone rang at the reception and Anne quickly rushed over, putting on her over the top friendly voice and customer face. She nodded and smiled along, despite the person on the other end not seeing it. After hanging up she let out a little squeal and faced her coworker.
"Debbie! He needs his minibar stocked up. Apparently all the pepsi is already gone."
"Who needs a pepsi at 3 in the morning?"
"Ce-le-bri-ties." Anne retorted with a smile, emphasising each syllable. "It doesn't matter, I get to go up there again! Uh, quick! Give me your lipstick!"
"Anne, what do you have planned?" Debbie laughed and tossed over the lipstick.
"Nothing." Anne quipped before dabbing some of it onto her lips and puckered them, butterflies in her stomach. "Good?"
Debbie snorted. "Oh my god, if you really wanna do this-" She walked over to her and undid the top two buttons of her blouse. "-do it right."
"Oh my god." Anne gasped, both at the implication and the feeling of the cool air hitting her now heated skin. She then laughed mirthfully and made no attempt to cover herself up again. "You're a bad influence." she remarked while grabbing a cart and carefully arranging the beverages on it.
"You started it! I'm just helping out a friend in desperate need." Debbie retorted with an innocent smile.
"Desperate my ass!" Anne laughed as she made her way over to the elevator. The last thing she heard before the door closed was Debbie calling over to her. "Have fun!"
Anne stood in front of his door, shifting from one foot to the other. She took a deep breath, trying to contain her giddy exitement and raised a trembling hand to knock lightly. She heard shuffling behind the door before it swiftly opened. Elvis stood in the door, squinting his eyes for a second. His large frame immediately towered over her and she had to clear her throat before daring to really look up. He looked just as good as he did earlier that day, her own mind hadn't exaggerated, every little detail still perfectly in place. His hair looked a bit more unruly and he didn't wear his glasses, making his beautiful blue eyes stand out even more against the dark brows and long lashes.
"Good evening, Mr. Presley." she smiled.
"Hey there, honey. I thought I told ya earlier to call me Elvis." he said with a stern look.
"Right. Elvis." she smiled, a bit bashful.
He gestured behind him and ran a hand through his fluffy hair. "Come in."
She entered the room, her eyes needing a moment to adjust to the darkness in his room as opposed to the bright flourescent light in the corridor. "You find everything alright?" she tried to make light conversation while opening the fridge, stacking the cool drinks inside. He snatched one right from her cart and cracked it open.
"Yeah, perfect thank you." His eyes skimmed over her nametag, like earlier that day. "Annie."
She beamed at him, trying to think of an excuse to stay in his room just a little while longer but the longer she stared, the more awkward it felt. She walked over to her cart again, his gaze folllwing her unabashedly. "Well, I don't want to disturb you any further-"
"Just one more thing, honey." he interrupted and held up his hand.
She halted, a little surprised. "What is it? I'm sure I can help you."
"Ya sure can." His eyes briefly wandered over her form before he cleared his throat. "The thing is, I-I can't sleep... and I'm bored outta my mind, honey. So... how are we going to solve this problem?" he asked as he sat down on the black leather couch with a grunt, lighting a cigar.
Anne felt her heart skipping a beat, her mind inadvertently jumping to places she couldn't think about now. She'd just get her hopes up for nothing. "I can arrange it that maybe some books will be brought up to you. If you'd like that?" She tried to offer, her nerves threatening to get the best out of her.
He shook his head and puffed his cigar, the heavy smoke surrounding him. She was barely able to make out his expression. "I wouldn't have called ya if I was in the mood to read."
Anne narrowed her eyes at him. "You called me to bring you some pepsi."
He mirrored her actions and pointed his finger at her. "Don't get sassy with me now, honey. Doesn't suit ya."
She swallowed hard, the tension in the room making her heart flutter wildly. "Alright. Then... what are you in the mood for?" she asked with an unassuming expression, trying to seem as indifferent as possible.
He shifted in his seat and smirked up at her. "Put on a lil show for me, will ya honey?"
Anne felt the color draining from her face, a pleasant shiver running through her body. Her face betrayed nothing, a perfectly polite smile gracing her lips. "A... little show?"
"Yeah, I'd like that... Relax baby, I'll tell you what to do." he said with a lopsided grin while adjusting his belt.
Anne slowly walked over to him and he spread his legs so she could step between them. Only the clicking sounds of her heels filled the silence in the room, except for the distinct whirring of the AC running on full power. Her breath hitched when his big hands came up to rest on her hips, his cigar dangling from his lips.
"Just a show? Nothing more?" she asked in what she hoped was a teasing tone, her eyebrows raised.
He ran his fingers over her thighs, toying with the hem of her knee length skirt. "We got plenty of time, Annie. But for now-" his gaze drifted towards her exposed cleavage and he grinned up at her. "I want ya to unbutton the rest."
"Oh, I don't know. It's rather cold in here don't you think?" she snickered and tilted her head.
He slapped her butt and she yelped, feeling a bit lightheaded all of the sudden. "I'm sure you'll be warm enough in a few minutes."
"I hope you keep your word."
"I always do." he said with a pout and gave her butt another squeeze before releasing her. She giggled as she moved a few steps back and began to open her blouse, a slight tremble to her fingers that she couldn't hide, no matter how hard she tried. Anne looked down, her bra starting to show and she suddenly wished she had chosen a more appealing set of underwear this morning, the simple white cotton bra and panties not really fitting her definition of sexy. But who could have known she would undress in front of Elvis Presley? She quickly found that she couldn't bring herself to care that much about trivialities like these under his assessive, almost examining gaze.
He lightly shook his head when he saw her fingers hastily working on the buttons. "Slower, honey, take your time. Do it nice and slow." he gently chided and leaned forward with his lips puckered, his belt now digging beautifully into his stomach. Anne tried to follow his command, urging her fingers to go more slowly, but she had no idea if she suceeded, her breathing becoming quicker and quicker.
Yet it seemed like she did what he asked. "That's right, little one. Just like that." he uttered, contentedly continuing to smoke his cigar. She had to supress a proud smile at his praise and continued to undress in what almost felt like slow motion. The dimmed light in the room gave her enough confidence to carry on, blemishes and imperfections remaining unseen in the darkness.
Anne finally pulled off the blouse after what felt like hours and dropped it to the floor unceremoniously, making him chuckle. His eyes raked over her upper body and he nodded to himself, taking a sip of his pepsi.
"Ah, did I say ya can take off the skirt?"
"You didn't." She mumbled and waited, his unwavering gaze. His eyes flicked downwards, her hand still clutching the fabric, prepared to pull the garment off. He raised his eyebrows at her and she got the hint. She let go and held up her hands to him as if surrendering.
He nodded, satisfied and leaned back again with a smirk. "Take off the skirt, honey."
She huffed. "You're-"
"Watch your mouth, baby. You just do what I tell you and look pretty." he commented, raising a lighter to his lit cigar again after it had gone out.
She bit back a snide comment and slowly opened the zipper at the side of her skirt. Whether or not she wanted to admit it to herself, his commanding tone made her skin tingle in exitement. It was then, when she pushed the fabric down her thighs, that she started to feel a little silly, never having done something like this before. She leaned forward until the skirt pooled at her feet and he licked and bit at his bottom lip at her accidental generous display of her bust.
She stepped out of her skirt, kicking off her heels in the process without his permission. He momentarily frowned and she saw the gears in his head turning at her little act of defiance, but judging by the way he shifted in his seat and his mouth formed a little "o" he seemed to like what he saw.
"Lordy, look at those cute, yittle sooties." he groaned, swiftly placing his cigar into the ash tray next to him and moving to palm the prominent bulge in his trousers. He made a circling motion with his fingers, urging her to turn around for him, all while still stroking the growing bulge in his crotch. She felt like an actress in a theatre or movie production with the director showing her where to stand and what to do, using her as a tool to realise his artistic vision. Not that she was complaining.
"Now unclasp the bra, baby. But leave the panties on." he uttered, his voice a bit hoarse. "Slowly." he added with a chuckle, drawing the word out as if further asserting his point. Anne threw a glance over her shoulder and turned away from him again quickly when she unhooked her bra and let it fall onto the ground. 'She was practically naked in front of Elvis Presley!' she thought with her cheeks flushed, thankful that he couldn't see the look on her face, which surely resembled an enthusiatic, screaming fan at one of his concerts. She felt his eyes burning into her back, her throat completely dry.
"N-now baby, turn around and show me your titties, I need to see them." he almost whimpered and she quickly regained control over her face, his keenness making her feel weirdly powerful. Anne turned around, attempting to lick her dry lips, but she quickly realised she had no spit left when she faced him, eyes dazed and bucking up into his palm every now and then.
His eyes immediately went to her heaving chest, nipples pebbled from the cool room temperature, his teeth grinding, practically itching to bite down on them. "Fuck, why don'tcha play with yourself a lil bit?" His voice now had an almost comic high pitch to it and it made her feel weirdly powerful. She confidently reached up and gently massaged her breast, her thumb flicking over her nipple, making both of them gasp. He wriggled around, it almost looked like he wanted to jump up, but instead he remained firmly seated and threw his head back. His hand flexed, holding onto the soft pillow beside him, fingers digging into it as if he was caressing her supple flesh.
"Sit down o-on that chair a-and spread those legs for me, baby. And slip a finger inside. Rub yourself real nice f-for me." he stuttered, gesturing around wildly. Anne quickly scurried over and sat down, eagerly reaching down, her hand ghosting over her clothed cunt. She slid underneath the white cotton and eagerly flicked her fingers over her swollen nub, her hips bucking up involuntarily and her face scrunching up. He let out a deep moan and fumbled around with his pants, fervently attempting to pull them down. After a series of frustrating noises escaping his puffy lips, his cock finally sprang from it's confinement, slapping against his rounded stomach. Now it was her turn to whimper, watching him roll back his foreskin and thumbing the the tip of it.
"Show me your fingers, h-honey." he urged, his neediness almost making her swoon. She reluctantly pulled away and held up her glistening fingers to him, making him curse wildly under his breath. He softly whined and furrowed his brows in concentration, looking as if he was trying to solve a difficult math equation. "...Fuck it. Take off the panties. Wanna watch that yittle pussy." he finally muttered, decisively closing his fist around his pulsating cock.
She shimmied out of her soaked underwear and opened up her legs for him again. His cock visibly twitched when he looked at her glistening folds and he lazily ran his hand up and down his length. "Elvis, can I? Please I need-" she gasped, her fingers inching closer to her core again, his heated gaze making her even more desperate. He stroked his cock in a steady rhythm as he watched her squirm and writhe in her seat. "Please." she cried out in frustration and he finally showed mercy.
"Go ahead and touch yourself, Annie."
She sighed in relief and slipped her fingers back over her wet folds, rubbing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, the throbbing becoming almost too much to bear. "Look at me and bite your lip, baby." he instructed, his ring clad hand pumping his cock faster, precum already leaking out of the tip. She lowered her head a bit and looked up to him through her lashes, biting her lip almost painfully in anticipation and exitement. He sucked in a breath and bucked up into his hand. "Goddamn honey, y-you're such a fuckin' tease."
Anne let out a groan and rubbed her clit even faster, trying to match his own pace, which got increasingly difficult as his tempo became more and more irregular. "You've never done this before, Annie? This is just for me." The latter half of his statement sounded less like a question to Anne, but more like a definitive fact, which one couldn't possibly argue. She had no intention of arguing with him anyway, just nodding and moaning along with everything he said. "You're getting off on this ain't ya lil' girl? Dirty, dirty, getting that turned by me watching." He teased and again she found herself nodding without really giving her body the permission to do so. Her mind was focused on him, watching his leaking cock twitch under his ministrations, hearing his moans and grunts. She even imagined his nimble fingers stroking her, instead of her own, the thought sending her over the edge.
She cried out his name when she came, repeating it like a mantra while remembering to look into his eyes. His own hips stuttered as he watched her twitch and jerk, her fingers still gliding all over, in and out her puffy pussy, face twisting up in pleasure and his name falling from her lips like a prayer. With one last thrust into his hand and a heavy groan he felt his hot cum coating him. He leaned his head back, trying to catch his breath. After a brief chuckle he raised his head again and looked over, seeing her still sitting on the chair in the same position, looking tired and dazed.
"Come over here, little one." he muttered after a few seconds and patted his strong thigh. Anne hesitantly got up on wobbly legs and stumbled over towards him, almost falling onto his lap, probably staining his pants even more. He didn't seem to care, pulling her close to him and kissing her forehead.
"Annie, Annie, I knew you were something special the first time I saw you." he mumbled into her hair and ran his fingers along her back. She just hummed in response, not able to form coherent sentences yet, just content burying herself into his wide chest. "I'll certainly have to come back here, honey. The service here is outta this world." he chuckled and slapped her butt again. "I'll make sure ya get a pay raise."
She hummed.
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tawneybel · 1 year
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Request: “Killer clown from Outer space Buk/ka/ke.”
Imagine getting abducted by Klowns.
Slim, perfectly imitating Mike’s voice, announced you were to be cream-pied. The other Klowns giggled at your horrified expression.
You saw what happened to the security guard. Pied to the face, which by itself would’ve gotten them in trouble. If only you knew then what had happened to Sergeant Mooney. Somehow you were still convinced someone must be able to stop the invasion.
That poor guard, melted into a pile of goo. Clowns pelting acidic pies was so comically evil. You would’ve laughed if you were a member of the audience and not an eyewitness.
While Chubby carried your balloon into the Big Top, you glanced back to see Shorty plop an oversized cherry on the guard-turned-dessert. Were they leaving a meal for someone else? Did their home planet have giant cherry trees, their fruit used to fatten livestock?
If Debbie or I pop a balloon, someone’s getting cotton candied.
Klowns were hemophagic. It was hard to think of a scarier fate than being sucked dry by space aliens. The nightmarish funhouse setting would have delighted otherwise, coulrophile and carnival fan you were. Particularly the ride on a real clown car!
But you weren’t scheduled for exsanguination, or liquefaction, as you were about to learn.
There were so many balloons attached to the ceiling of the cocoon chamber. All different colors and patterns. It was difficult to tell how many other Earth women got captured.
The thought of Klowns conquering other worlds made you quake.
Shorty left. As the sliding door shut, you couldn’t shake the notion he was gathering more Klowns to meet Debbie and you.
Bibbo waddled over to the control panel. Slim lifted your friend up to a spare ceiling nozzle. For a split second, you thought Debbie would be siphoned into the spaceship. Leaving a blood-stained, but otherwise empty, sac. Instead, her balloon was promptly vacuumed into place. Still a prison. Debbie pressed her hands against the latex, pleading pitifully.
Next to hers were two empty balloons. One white with faint blue marbling; the other pink, resembling blown gum. You’d have killed for a stick, if your mouth had been dry. But you were salivating. Which didn’t go unnoticed by Chubby.
He untied the cord, allowing you to slip into his arms. Naked. Your clothes had been sucked away by the balloon. You swallowed your excess spit, prompting him to run an over-sized finger across your lips. Both pairs, the lower much wetter than the upper.
It occurred to you the Klowns all seemed male. And were chuckling at you, save for Chubby, whose very crooked smile grew dangerously large.
“Is that a juggling pin in your pocket or are you just happy to see her?” Slim’s query reminded you of his earlier words.
You weren’t livestock. Not exactly. Breeding, you thought, I’m going to be used as breed-
But, as the rest released their sizable erections, you wondered if Klowns and Earthlings were even genetically compatible.
They might just stuff your holes, over and over again. For the rest of your life.
The rest of my life as an intergalactic sex-slave.
An image of you, guzzling cum, costumed in gaudy lingerie, pleasuring multiple Klowns at once, popped into your head. A juggling pin inserted in your snatch, keeping it gaped after being roughly used by uncaring-
Fuck!
The invaders had released their members in unison. They more or less resembled human penises. Powder white with pulsing veins corresponding to their individual “face paint.” The openings in their suits weren’t wide enough to give you a glimpse of their balls, though.
Keeping your legs together was a chore. ‘Specially ‘cause you wondered what they had in mind exactly. One at a time? All at once? Hands and mammaries could be employed if the need arose. Right then the Klowns were employing their hands… on themselves. Chubby’s large dick, dabbing itself against your legs. Eager to split you open.
Oh God, you thought as the Klowns advanced, I'm going to be stuffed like a clown car.
Chubby was suddenly behind you, crouching you forward, his hardness deciding to fondly rub between your thighs.
Without warning, Bibbo stuck his thumbs into your mouth, pulling it into a grotesque grin while the others howled with laughter. It was futile. Too bad you couldn’t just lie back and think of Bozo. Your lips formed an O, like one of those carnival games where the goal’s to shoot water until the clown’s balloon pops.
The Klowns hummed in approval. Well, now I’m the entertainment.
But you were expecting to be squirted into, not on.
No wonder Chubby hadn’t slipped into you from behind yet.
Synchronized circle jerk. How many them were turned-on the ride over? You were too afraid to notice their arousal.
Just as Chubby’s… chubby jerked between your thighs, coating you from belly to chin, the others aimed for your face and tits. Managing to absolutely inundate you with their warm semen. Most of it splattered your face, shoulders, and neck. Miraculously, none of it got in your eyes. Though your eyelids felt sticky. Much of it did land in your mouth.
Out of reflex, you swallowed. Chubby’s grip loosened. Klown seminal fluid. Sweet and thick. Much better than human male jizz. And you weren’t saturated in it. Not in the way you now really wanted to be, anyway.
Reaching back to find your clit, you wondered who scored the most points in your mouth. Probably Rudy, who stood directly in front of you. Slim reached out to poke your cheek. Then trace a clowny smile around your lips.
There were no mirrors. If there were any on the ship, they’d probably be funhouse mirrors. So you couldn’t see just how much they’d creamed. Chubby’s hands slid up your sides and you raised yourself, lifting your arms to allow him access to your tits. They, along with your pussy, were dripping. Your chest with their cum, your crevice with your own arousal.
You could have gone for one of those stout white fingers up there just then. Why weren’t they advancing?
Rudy pointed past you, exclaiming. Chubby turned around, made a pleased noise, and gestured to Bibbo and Slim.
Your clothing was still in the balloon. Why the Klowns were so interested in them was soon answered.
Rudy and Bibbo held up your pants, while Chubby rummaged through the pockets and Slim held up your panties. Laughing in triumph with Mike’s voice.
Not to be outdone, Chubby showed the others a box of condoms. You stood there, naked, as they cooed with delight and ripped it open.
Watching them pass the wrappers, you figured Klowns had short refractory periods. But no, after opening the wrappers, they just starting using the contraceptives to make balloon animals.
Before you could ask them if the rumors about aliens and probes were true, the sound of the door sliding open announced Shorty’s return. Along with members of the Killer Klown troupe you hadn’t met yet.
Debbie screamed.
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offender42085 · 1 year
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Post 944
Kyle Steven Boldrey, Michigan inmate 423368, born 1991, incarceration intake in 2017 at age 25; earliest possible release date 08/25/2038, maximum discharge date 08/25/2066
Murder, 2nd Degree
In 2017, behind the prosecution table, 11 men and women quietly but palpably longed for the two missing men who they would never see again.
Behind the defense table, 11 men and women sat in support of a loved one at the beginning of many years of bars and cement block walls.
Between them stood a young man who, according to police and the prosecution, in 2016 ingested a drug and brutally murdered an elderly man and his own childhood friend.
Another hearing was held in February 2019, in which that afternoon, Kyle Boldrey, 26, was resentenced for the 2016 murders of Keith Atkinson and Trevor Hubbard, murders police said Boldrey committed while under the influence of a synthetic hallucinogen called 25i-NBOMe.
Judge Michael Mack of the 26th Circuit Court handed down a sentence of 22 to 50 years for each of two counts of second-degree murder, to be served concurrently.
The court already sentenced Boldrey once. In October 2017, Mack assigned Boldrey 25 to 50 years in prison, exceeding the recommended guidelines because of the brutality of the case.
Boldrey appealed the 2017 sentence, indicating that he had pleaded no contest under a misunderstanding about the number of years to which he could be sentenced. At the second hearing, Boldrey formally withdrew his plea and entered a second no-contest plea, this time under full understanding of what might lie in his future because of his decision in the past.
A no-contest plea is not an admission of guilt, but an admission that the charges cannot be fought. It is treated as a guilty plea for sentencing purposes.
At the heart of the crime was the hallucinogen 25i-NBOMe, known by it street name of “N-Bomb.” Now fallen out of favor, the drug had a spike in popularity four or five years ago, when it was sought out as a substitute for LSD, according to the Michigan Department of Health and Human Services. The drug sometimes leads to very extreme physical effects, with even minuscule amounts leading to seizures, cardiac and respiratory arrest, and death, according to the federal Drug Enforcement Administration.
Medical examiner reports studied by the DEA, as well as news items out of Britain and Australia, reveal stories of violent behavior leading to death as a result of ingestion of 25i. Teens and young adults have died when the drug caused them to burst into violence, flinging themselves at poles or walls or tearing up the inside of a vehicle before dying with very little internal evidence of the drug’s presence.
In Montmorency County in 2016, Boldrey decided to try 25i. The drug was given to him by Hubbard as they celebrated their upcoming adventures – Hubbard’s impending departure for college and Boldrey’s entry into the U.S. Air Force.
Shortly after ingestion, Boldrey exploded into a rage. He stabbed Hubbard and struck him with a vehicle, then broke into the home of Atkinson, who died trying to defended his wife, Debbie Wells, and Jeffrey Bauer, who was also in the home. Wells and Bauer survived but were beaten badly.
Eyes were dabbed with Kleenex on both sides of the courtroom at the second hearing as Boldrey gave a statement to the court before his sentencing. At his last sentencing, he said he tried to minimize his behavior, distancing himself from the thing he had done.
Now, though, he wanted to take ownership of his flawed thinking and bad decisions, of the fear and hurt that he had caused to strangers and to people he loved.
“I caused a whole community to feel unsafe,” Boldrey said. “It should have never happened. And it’s my fault.”
Boldrey’s attorney, Dan White, shared that, while in prison, his client has agreed to help with a drug and violence awareness program, a law enforcement effort to keep children and young adults from making the kind of mistake Boldrey made.
Behind the defendant, his mother and father watched their son silently, knowing that, whatever Mack’s decision, their child would still walk out of the room wearing chains.
3y
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warmglowofsurvival · 1 year
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"Josh Dun from Twenty One Pilots turned to Haverstick Designs to develop his three-room studio in the basement of his home in Columbus, Ohio, lovingly named The Boom Boom Room. A full team effort was needed to pull this off, so we collaborated with Next Era Audio Technologies (NEAT), Griffey Remodeling, Simplified Acoustics and Josh's wife, Debby Ryan to make his dream studio come to life! The studio consists of a spacious Control Room featuring gear from Kemper, PMC, Rupert Neve Designs, SJC and custom stretch-fabric acoustical treatment with LED lighting built in. The Vocal Booth (which doubles as a gaming room) has a 3D fiber optic starfield ceiling. The signature space is Josh's Drum Room which features artwork from internationally acclaimed artist Dabs Myla printed on acoustically transparent fabric which hides the acoustical treatment. The artwork is a continuation of the mural that they painted in the first floor nook directly above the studio. This one-of-a-kind studio is perfectly tailored for a one-of-a-kind drummer!"
[studio tour]
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sapphicforsarahh · 1 year
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Hey, are you still taking Lou x Debbie prompts? If yes I'd love a tattoo parlor & cake shop neighbors AU :)
Hey, yes I am! I love this idea
New Neighbours
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Ship: Lou Miller x Debbie Ocean
Word Count: 390+
Warnings: None
Lou was immersed in practicing her designs and shading when a woman knocked on the window of her shop. She hadn’t seen her before and wondered what she wanted. Lou turned her gun off, took her gloves off, stood up and walked to the door.
“Hey, can I help you with anything?” Lou politely smiled at the woman. Now was the first time she got to see her properly. The woman wore a tight black sweater with loose beige slacks, looking dressed up compared to Lou’s old graphic t-shirt and jeans. “I was just coming by to let you know I’m moving in the next door, I’ve recently opened a cake shop with my friend Tammy,” the woman smiled.
“Oh that’s neat, does this mean I get free cupcakes?” Lou smirked playfully, making the brunette blush. “If you like,” she shyly replies. “Oh, I’m Debbie by the way,” she outstretched her hand ready to shake her hand. “Lou, nice to meet you,” Lou accepts her hand. Debbie’s hand was soft compared to Lou’s course hand and was significantly larger than hers. “If you ever want a tat you know where to come,” Lou joked before bidding a goodbye and sitting back down.
Lou saw in her peripheral Debbie and her friend, she was guessing Tammy, going back and forth with boxes. She couldn’t concentrate and so thought it would be helpful to give them a hand. “Want some help?” Lou appeared out of nowhere whilst Debbie was lifiting boxes. “Yes please,” she groaned, handing the box to Lou. Debbie noticed the way her muscles were exaggerated when lifting the boxes. She should’ve asked for help sooner.
As Lou piled the last box into the store and piled them neatly, Tammy leaned into Debbie, “new love interest?” “Shut it you,” she hissed, ignoring her. “That’s all the boxes Debs,” Lou dabbed some sweat off her forehead using her shirt, showing her toned stomach. Oh come on. Tammy smirked knowing this was making Debbie act up. The use of the nickname sent her spiralling further. “Thank you so much Lou, I’ll drop by later with a few cakes as a thank you,” Debbie traced her hand down Lou’s bare arm.
Lou smiled and returned back to her studio. “You whore,” Tammy laughed as she went inside. “And she’s an Australian,” Debbie giggled and followed Tammy inside.
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the-last-dillpickle · 2 years
Text
Round Robin!
Rules: Below will be a section of writing beginning a story. Anyone can reblog and continue the story, and anyone can reblog and continue on from them. Please try to keep your part between one hundred and five hundred words, and (for this go at least) try to keep it rated no higher than T/light M. Any characters or ships may be added, and please no ship or character bashing. No out of universe crossovers (ie non-Star Trek). Please be aware that the story will likely branch into different versions depending on when others see new additions and start writing their own. Respect the other writers in the chain. Most importantly, go into this with a mindset of fun!
~
Bashir sighed and slumped into a stool. His form hunched over the bar in obvious misery, a dark cloud looming overhead.
Quark eyed him and mentally calculated the pros and cons of having such a dreary bar patron seated right smack dab in the middle his establishment. On one hand, it would be easy to keep the drinks flowing from here and to pump Bashir for gossip on whatever had gotten him so down. But on the other hand… well, no one liked drinking next to a Debbie Downer. He might need to shoo him off to go drink in a dark corner instead.
Quark assessed the room. Morn was in his usual spot, chatting up some poor Starfleet ensign who evidently hadn’t realized what they were signing up for when they’d taken the seat next to him. There was a private birthday party on the upper level which would be moving into the holosuites within the next hour. Leeta was explaining the dabo tables to a Vulcan. Odo was not visibly present, but when did that really mean anything? (At least he wasn’t skulking around scaring away the customers for the moment.)
Overall, it wasn’t a bad night. But it really wasn’t so busy that Bashir’s dark cloud would choke out (too many of) the other bar goers. Besides, Quark was in the mood for some conversation.
He picked up a fresh glass from under the bar.
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mariamariquinha · 2 years
Text
I think I've seen this film before - ‘Bossa Nova’ Prequel
Summary: Benny point-of-view.
Word Count: 675.
Warnings: None.
Author’s Note: You know that type of random idea you have out of nowhere? It’s not even funny - probably super cringe. And super short.
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Benny noticed everything, it was bad and good at the same time. It gave him advantages at work, in his love life, and definitely as a person in general.
The first thing he noticed was that you stopped wearing your wedding ring. Then, you started to sniff more from time to time, that you weren't always in your laboratory and once he even saw you coming out of the bathroom with a handkerchief dabbing the corner of your eyes.
He had never asked about you other than your name, but that day, during a stakeout with Nick, he found the perfect opportunity.
“She’s different.”
The years of living together gave Nick the benefit of knowing what his partners tended to mean by simple words. Benny was so narrow-minded in his opinions of you or his personal life that O'Brien assumed this wasn't about some girlfriend but one of the few women who might be 'different' in their social circle.
What was most surprising, however, was the way in which the answer was ready.
“Divorce.”
“You think?”
“After Debbie, you can recognize a hurt woman from afar,” The certainty made Benny frown in slight confusion. “Besides, that husband of hers was an asshole. That would happen sooner or later.”
“You knew him?” Nick shrugged at the question, taking his eyes off the target to look at Magalon.
“The other day we were talking and he called her. Theodore something something something or whatever. I certainly wasn't the best of husbands, but they're young. Young people don't get divorced, especially when she’s like… You know what I mean.”
It was a pretty stupid analogy, coming from a place of too much certainty and too little optimism, but Benny took it as a truthful answer. Nick didn't notice things that weren't extremely helpful to him in some way, he knew that, and O’Brien certainly wouldn't have had much information about your condition if he hadn't been speculating - or trying to get inside your pants.
“Thinking of trying your luck?” The question caught Borracho by surprise. He looked at the guy, though, and that typical smirk was there.
“‘Course not, boss. We don’t even talk.”
“Right,” Nick scoffed. “Either way, if you're thinking she'd drop to the level of guys like us after her husband's experience, don't be fooled. The girl is tough as fucking iron.”
That Benny never doubted and so he snickered at the idea of ​​you crushing Big Nick's flirting ego. Nobody brought it up again, but he jumped to the easy conclusions that you weren't doing so well.
When you bumped into each other again, Magalon had the conversation with Nick in his head. You used to go down to the Major Crimes floor to use the vending machine, another thing he'd noticed, whether it was to get you some candy or just leave frustrated that it didn't have what you wanted.
That day, he found out that you liked M&M's - he knew that because as soon as he turned his back carrying the last packet from the machine, Benny heard someone mutter a curse word and when he turned around, there was you.
“You can keep this one,” He gestured with the candy before you could leave. First, you frown, then your expression softened a little. There wasn’t pain or sadness there, but a third thing - tiredness.
“Nah, don’t worry, I can grab one at the store across the street.”
“If I told you I came to get this one for Zapata, would you accept it?”
Of course you would; that was exactly what you did, in fact, grabbing the thing with a mischievous smile. You didn't talk anymore and it wasn't even necessary; he went back to the office, listened to Z's complaint about the lack of chocolate, but thought the way you reacted was enough.
Tough as an iron, Nick said. Benny had seen that film before, in the way he began to follow you with his eyes more often and the lonely smiles he let slip while remembering your cunning answers to his friends, as well as the way you mastered crime scenes.
He knew that what he had told O'Brien was a bluff. Benny was, for sure, interested from then on.
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No pressure tags:
@cheesybadgers​
@thoroughlymodernminutia​
@the-hinky-panda​
@mysoulisasunflower​
@seaweeden
@thesandbeneathmytoes​
@nerdyreaderpapi
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ghostchasersmagazine · 6 months
Text
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"Speed Buggy Gets the Cold Bug" from Speed Buggy Issue #9
Transcript under the cut:
It wasn't a fit night out for a beast, man or machine. Rain poured down out of the dark clouds as if someone had opened up a faucet in the sky. The roads were flooded. The wind was howling. Bolts of lightning flashed across the sky! It was one of the worst thunderstorms in history and Tinker, Debbie and Speed Buggy were caught in the cloudburst.
"I wish we'd stayed home," sighed Debbie sadly as Tinker steered Speedy through the deep puddles that dotted the deserted highway.
"Don't blame yourself," replied Tinker "The weatherman predicted that today would be a beautiful day! This thunderstorm must have been a real shock to everyone including the weather forecaster!"
"I know I shouldn't feel guilty, but I do," answered Debbie. "Speedy is getting soaking wet and it's all my fault. I'm the one who wanted to take a long drive out into the country!"
"Calm down, Debbie," sputtered Speed Buggy as he rolled on at a moderate rate of speed through the torrent of rain. "I needed a good washing anyway!"
"The best thing we can do is get back to the garage as fast as we can. The sooner we get out of this downpour, the better I'll like it," Tinker stated as he maneuvered Speedy slowly, cautiously and carefully.
Tinker wanted to get home quickly, but he didn't want to go too fast. The road was slick and slippery. He didn't want to take any chances.
"I'm worried about Speed Buggy," Debbie whispered to Tinker as raindrops pitter-pattered on the convertible roof above their heads. "The big, three hundred mile motor car race is only two days away. Do you think being out in this bad weather will hurt Speedy's chance of winning the race?" Debbie asked nervously.
Tinker admitted that he didn't know the answer to her question. Most cars could drive through bad weather continually and never be bothered by it, but Speed Buggy wasn't just an ordinary car. Speedy was special and he was super sensitive to many things that didn't affect other automobiles. Maybe, driving through the rainstorm would hurt Speedy's chances of winning. Tinker hoped that it wouldn't, but it could.
At long last, after endless hours of driving, home was in sight. "We'll be safe handout of this downpour in a second," Tink called to Speedy as they rolled towards the garage where Mark was anxiously waiting for their return.
Quickly, Mark opened the door when he spied Speedy's glowing headlights coming down the lane. Into the warm, dry garage Speed Buggy rolled. Instantly, Tink and Debbie clamored out of the car.
"Are you all right, Speedy?" asked Tim in a worried tone.
"I-I ... AH-Choo!" sneezed Speed Buggy loudly. "I-I'm f-fine! I t-think I caught a little cold! Ah-Choo! Ah-Choo! Ah-Choo!"
"We've got to help Speedy," cried Debbie. "We've got to get rid of that cold bug Speedy has in his motor or he won't be able to participate in the big race on Saturday!"
"Get towels, everyone!" ordered Mark "Quick, dry off Speedy's body!"
"I'll check under Speedy's hood!" shouted Tinker. "I'll make sure his battery isn't running down. I'll also check the antifreeze in his radiator. We've got to keep him from getting a chill!"
"D-Don't worry about me! I-I - A-Choo!" said Speedy. "I'll be all right!"
"Take it easy, Speedy," said Debbie as she dabbed raindrops off of his water splashed fenders. "Don't talk! I can tell by the sound of your voice that your fuel lines are starting to get all clogged up!"
Reluctantly, Speedy obeyed. Tinker, Debbie and Mark frantically worked on their buggy buddy. They got him dry and tried to keep him warm. They did everything in their power to keep Speed Buggy's cold from getting worse.
For two days and two nights, they all took turns taking care of their amazing automobile. By Saturday morning, Speed Buggy was as good as new. His cold bug was gone! His motor hummed high gear and he was ready to race.
"I feel great!" announced Speedy as he backed out of the garage. "I never felt better. Let's get to the track and win that three hundred mile race!"
"You're the boss!" answered Tinker as he hopped in behind Speedy's steering wheel. Off to the track they zoomed.
Speedy won the big race just like he predicted he would! After Tink and Speedy accepted the trophy they'd won, Mark and Debbie raced over to congratulate their friends.
"How does it feel to be a winner?" Debbie asked.
"I-I Ah-Choo!" sneezed Tinker as he tried to talk.
"Oh no!" cried Mark in dismay. "Here we go again! Now Tink has the cold bug!"
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vanoincidence · 1 year
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Head Above Water || Van & Teagan
TIMING: last night 6/6. LOCATION: darkling lake / at teagan's cabin. PARTIES: @closingwaters & @vanoincidence SUMMARY: teagan catches van crying. CONTENT WARNINGS: parental death.
The last time Van had been to Darkling Lake, she’d been equipped with numerous containers of food and a sparkling strawberry lemonade her grandma had insisted on getting. That was… two years, maybe three years ago now. The lake didn’t hold memories like Vicker’s Beach did, despite the time she had spent there with her grandmother, but it offered her something else. Even though the sun was hitched high in the sky, there were very few people around. It meant that she could exist in peace without the fear of anybody watching her. Unfortunately for her own safety, Van was ignorant to the life that flourished beneath the water’s surface, as well as from within the tree’s lining. She could be by herself, even if she weren’t actually alone. 
She found a spot, not even bothering to sit down on the blanket she had specifically brought so that she didn’t get the back of her jeans muddy, and pulled her knees to her chest. The tears fell freely, making her lips taste like salt. She sniffled loudly and pulled the sleeve of her sweater over her hand, dabbing at the corners of her eyes. Van knew that her face was going to become splotchy, and that her cheeks and under eyes would become puffy, but did it matter when nobody was there to see you bawl? Her shoulders shook slightly with the way turmoil brewed in her chest. It was painful– to remember the way Debbie had tried to kill them, and how they in turn killed Debbie. She wanted so badly to fall through the soil beneath her, to become the thing that the earth ate, so that maybe it could regurgitate Debbie and give her a second chance. 
But that wasn’t how things worked. So Van sat at the edge of the lake, a hollowed out version of herself. 
The cabin was coming together nicely. Shelves were put up, plants were laid about, and furniture was arranged to put a focus on the sunlight that came through the windows. Teagan was just finishing another round of rearranging when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. A smile began to take shape on her face, and she prepared herself to finish out her afternoon with the perfect activity: drowning someone.
Stepping out of her home, Teagan searched where she could begin her attack. Sliding into the water and dragging someone in was a classic, but Teagan was feeling playful. Beckoning the currents to her prey was always a good option, too. A fun little distraction that forced one to watch the water instead of their back. Yes, that was what she would do—but wait. There was a loud sniffle that took the nix’s attention. The girl was crying. 
Teagan grimaced, knowing herself and her instincts. She loved a good murder, but doing it while someone cried was a step too far, even for her. Instead, she balled her hands into fists and carefully tread forward, the rocks in the wet dirt crunching as she made her approach. “Are…are you all right there, lass?”
Van didn’t hear the woman’s footsteps as they came near. Really she hadn’t heard the words she spoke. If she were herself, she might have poked fun at being called lass if she had even registered it. The tears were beginning to burn her eyes and she wiped them away roughly, ready to turn and leave, but the woman’s appearance caused her to let out a yelp instead. 
She really needed to be more observant. Fuck. Van blinked at the woman, suddenly embarrassed that she’d been caught crying. She hadn’t seen anybody else aside from a few tourists who were on the other side of the lake. Where did this woman come from? It took Van a moment to understand the question she had missed. Are you alright there, lass? 
Van shook her head, throat constricting. She wanted to stop crying, but the tears continued. She was going to have a terrible headache later. “I’m fine.” She was not. Van balled her hands into fists and pressed her knuckles against her eyes, willing herself to stop crying. To be a grown up for once in her stupid short life. “I’m sorry.” Why was she apologizing? She didn’t need to apologize. Crying was normal, even if she felt stupid for doing it now.
Teagan shook her head softly just as the stranger, crouching down next to her and propping her chin on her knee. “Don’t think someone who is fine would be crying all by their lonesome by a lake.” She looked down at how wet the girl’s pants were getting, and she tossed humor to the wind, hoping to lighten things just a little. “Only someone who was too sad to care could sit in mud like that, too.” A chuckle escaped her, and Teagan scratched her cheek as she thought on what to do next.
“My name is Teagan. Live in that cabin right over there,” Her thumb pointed back where she came from, “What about you?” With a wan smile, Teagan looked to her companion and then to the lake, wishing she could put a comforting arm around the sorrowful stranger. In times like that though, she knew better than most that the only thing anyone could do was either leave or listen. She was just waiting to see which was needed.
Van sniffled again, rubbing her nose against the heel of her hand. She could have cried in the solitude of her home. Screamed, even– begging the universe to give her back everything she had lost, but instead, she had decided to venture out. Now, she was paying for it in the form of an audience. “You’re right. Sorry.” She knew she looked bad, and there really was no use in pretending she was fine, not even to somebody she didn’t know. 
As Teagan introduced herself, Van’s gaze lifted from the water’s edge to the house that she motioned towards. It was a modest house, but cute. She didn’t know anyone still lived in them. She had seen articles about people moving away from Darkling Lake in droves years ago. “I didn’t mean to cry in front of your house.” Van’s voice wavered a little before she sniffed again. “Van. Not like the car.” She remembered the way Thea had said it, and it might have been funny now if everything surrounding that night weren’t so fucked up. “I live in Worm Row.” Van hadn’t ever been equipped with the knowledge of stranger danger, but the woman seemed kind. 
The way Van’s voice struggled could make anyone’s heart twist. Even worse, her skin was tear-stained and her eyes were glossy with how her heart spilled out. Teagan couldn’t stop herself then, her own heart hearing the young girl’s pain calling out to her. “Do you want to come in? I can pop on the kettle or we can stay out here.” She worried her lip, readjusting her feet as she continued to crouch. “At times like this, it’s always best to have someone ‘round. Catch the tears, so to speak.” Teagan wasn’t sure if Van would take her advice, knowing she hardly ever took it herself, but she was willing to try. Her empathetic nature begged her to. 
“Even got a pair of trousers you can borrow. Might be a tag big, but hey, I’ve always thought the bigger, the better. Drown in the clothes so you can drown in the warmth, eh?” Heterochromic eyes scanned Van’s features again, and Teagan tossed caution to the wind as her hand reached out. “Of course, this is all up to you.” She carefully patted Van’s back, taking to giving her gentle and circular rubs. “Just looking to help is all. And you can trust that. People like me don’t particularly care for lying. Fates, some of us can’t. But, um…believe what you will.”
Van rubbed at her eyes with her knuckles, willing herself to stop crying. If she weren’t so weak, then maybe she could stop. After her parents had died, she didn’t go to school for a whole month because she couldn’t stop crying. Even after she was told to go back by her grandma, she ended up skipping most of the semester. If it hadn’t been for the threats of being dragged to New York permanently, she probably would have failed out of all her classes. Teagan’s offer for tea made her chest burn. If Teagan knew what kind of monster she was, then there was no way that she would let her in and she knew it. If Teagan knew she’d been responsible for two deaths– one indirectly, would Teagan call the police? 
She wanted so badly to allow this woman to be kind to her, but she didn’t think she deserved it. The only kindness that Van had been allowing herself recently had been extended by those who’d been there when Debbie died. Tea did sound nice, and so did pants that were not wet and muddy from the lake. How many more clothes would she ruin before she got over herself? “Okay.” Her skin buzzed under Teagan’s comforting pat and she sniffled again. “What kind of tea–” She stopped herself and a high pitched whine involuntarily left her as she realized how selfish the question was. “I’m sorry, I should just accept whatever you give me.” Her grandma had taught her about the kindness of others and to never ask for more than what they were offering. She guessed her grandma had been a stranger too, after all, because the kindness extended to her by her own blood had been cut short at the nearest sign of trouble. Van hiccuped, doing her best to keep her voice from cracking as she spoke again. “That sounds nice, and I’m sorry again for…” She motioned towards herself, “being this.” 
“No more apologies from you, lass. Not needed. Now, come. I’ll put on the kettle and we’ll have chamomile tea.” 
Teagan helped Van up, not minding the mud that got on her clothes. She led the two into the homey cabin, the scent of fresh baked goods filling it from her latest concoctions. Lemon and lavender buns that she had seen during her last insomnia stint. As annoying as it was to not get very much sleep, Teagan was at least grateful for the ideas doom scrolling got her. 
“Let me get those trousers for you.” Teagan rushed up the stairs and returned in a blink, sporting her own comfy clothes and the clothing she promised. “There’s a small loo down that hall,” She jerked her chin toward it, “First door on the left. I’ll get the tea ready and you just get changed, all right?” 
Offering a warm smile, Teagan patted and squeezed Van’s shoulder. She seemed so troubled and anxious, and all the nix wanted to do was fix it. Sometimes she wished she could turn her heart off, but at times like those, Teagan felt her heart was needed and was actually of use. Most days it got her into trouble, going too far with her violence and need for vengeance. It was nice to do something much more forgiving. 
Van followed Teagan into the cabin, making sure to leave her shoes outside as they were also caked in mud. It’d be easier to get it off once it dried, anyway. The last thing she wanted to do to the kind woman was track in mud and dirt. The smell inside of her home was overwhelmingly sweet. It smelled like a home should. It was full of life with different paintings and canvases hanging on the wall. The distraction of the new environment was welcome. 
“Loo…” Van nodded, not bothering to make fun of her because she didn’t sound British. Even if she had, she wasn’t sure she’d have the heart to do so. “Okay.” She smiled weakly at the blonde before heading into the bathroom. She carefully folded her muddy clothes, wrapping them around each other to make sure they didn’t get anything else dirty. The clothes that Teagan had given her were way too big for her, but Van was grateful nonetheless. She tugged at the pants legs, folding them over each other so that they wouldn’t drag around her feet. 
She felt like a kid again, only in the worst way possible. Van walked quietly from the bathroom back to the kitchen where Teagan’s back was turned. “Thank you– um…” She looked down at her bundled clothes. “Do you… have a plastic bag I can put these in?” She was asking for too much. “Just so I don’t– I don’t want to get anything else dirty. I can put them outside.” She shrugged her shoulder slightly so that the sleeve of the shirt would stop falling down her shoulder. 
There were an abundance of treats that could be offered. Pastries, chips, leftover pizza, some fresh fruit…Teagan wasn’t sure what to pick, really. Pastries were a safe bet with tea—the kettle whistled and she made quick work of putting everything into a tray and pouring the water so the tea could steep. “Perfect,” She muttered to herself, picking up the tray and making her way to the living room. 
“Oh…!” Teagan bit her lip to stifle a laugh, finally seeing just how big her clothes were on Van. “Well, I did say the bigger clothes were comfortable.” Offering a warm smile, Teagan nodded and placed the tray down onto the coffee table. She made a point to ignore the thanks, despite how it made her skin tingle. “Let me trot on back to the kitchen and grab a bag for you.” As she made her way, Teagan couldn’t help but ruffle the girl’s hair. She really seemed to need some sort of way to distract her, and the nix was always told she had an annoying knack for poking around until someone laughed. 
“Here you are,” Teagan returned with a plastic bag and handed it over, making her way to the couch to sit. It all felt so familiar. Finding a lost soul by the lake that she intended to drown, only for the scene to twist her heart into offering a safe haven. She couldn’t help that she had a soft spot for the younger souls that needed help. She would’ve wanted someone to do the same for her, even if she would’ve run away if someone tried. 
“How do you take your tea? Then we can get to the bottom of what sorrow is drowning your heart.”
Van was swimming in the t-shirt, too, but she liked the baggy look. It was what she typically wore at home anyway. She hadn’t gotten her t-shirt muddy, but Teagan had offered one over anyway. She’d need to wash them and return them. “Oh, yeah, okay.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as Teagan walked past, eyes growing slightly wide as the older woman ruffled her hair. She smoothed it down, suddenly embarrassed. She was sure that the tips of her ears were growing red. 
Once she returned, Van did her best to ignore the buzz of anxiety. She took the bag from Teagan with a grateful half-smile and tucked the clothes inside. “I’ll just put it by the door.” She retreated to the foyer and hesitated. What if the mud somehow went through the bag? Van opened the door and stuck her hand out, dropping the bag on top of her already muddy shoes. She returned to Teagan just as she voiced her question. 
“With two scoops of sugar, usually.” Van looked at the seat across from Teagan, wondering if she should take it. Wouldn’t the woman be offended if she just stayed standing? Probably. She took a shallow breath and took the seat, hands knotted together in her lap. “My– sorrow?” There was a lot of it, sure. She shook her head. “We don’t– we don’t need to… this is nice enough of you, I don’t want to…” bore you, Van thought. 
Van’s energy screamed about the anxiety laying just beneath her skin. She was hurting in one way or another, the ghost of her pain leaving a haze around her eyes. It was heavy enough to make them downcast. Teagan offered Van a solemn look, tossing in two sugar cubes into her tea. “Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger. You never have to talk to me again if you don’t want to.” She handed over the teacup, preparing her cup next. “It’s not about needing to do anything. As much as I dislike people, I have a heart. ‘Specially for the younger crowd—and don’t get me wrong, lass. I know you’re not terribly young, but…” Teagan shrugged with a sigh, “Pain has a way of regressing your heart a tad. Makes you need a little extra guidance. Fate knows I craved it when I was your age.”
Having grafted herself into loneliness, Teagan never got to have that guidance. It was just her and her pain, swirling and brewing until she became what she was in present day. Not much else filled her. No one else was around to help her pour it out, and that was her fault. She knew that much. “We can start small and go from there, or we can yank off that bandage and get right down to the mess. Or we just sit here and sip our tea in silence while we let the awkward energy suffocate us.” Teagan chuckled playfully, grabbing a biscuit. “I’ve also got all the streaming services. So we don’t suffocate so quickly.” Taking a sip, she hummed, easing into the moment a little better with a playful scrunch of her nose. “It’s all up to you, Van. I’m just here to help.”
Van waited patiently as Teagan worked on her cup of tea. The smell made her mouth water. At least it’d be something else than the red bull she’d been funneling lately. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” Van reassured, “it’s just… difficult.” She didn’t want to talk about what happened, not in the way that somebody normal would want to talk about it. How did she mention that she’d been at the helm of two deaths? How did she begin to explain that Diana’s death had been her fault, and Debbie’s too. She wasn’t sure which was worse at this point. The body she had helped bury, or the one she ran away from. If this woman didn’t like people then why was she helping her out in a time of need? Van took the cup of tea from Teagan with a smile, holding her hands around it to let it warm her up. Her question was answered almost immediately. Van didn’t think that Teagan looked much older than herself. She was pretty, in a weird almost aquatic way. It was disarming and frightening all at the same time. “You talk like an old person, so maybe you’re right.” The joke fell flat and she raised the cup to her lips, taking a small sip. The liquid singed her tongue slightly and she winced, but the sugar was welcomed. “That was a joke. A young people joke.” No young person spoke like that. Idiot. 
With another sip of her tea, Van ignored the way it burned this time, then she held the mug in her lap, hands closed around it. “I’m not sure there’s… a bandage. Or not a bandage, I guess.” It felt like a gaping wound, or like a stuffed bear that’d lost the stuffing because of a hole a dog tore into it. She felt like she was losing it. But how did she explain that to somebody who, like any normal and moral person, thought murder was wrong? She could maybe relate it to something else. Talk about it without talking about it. Maybe she could pass it off as her parents, or her grandmother’s abandonment. Something. Van knew she needed to talk, and while she couldn’t afford therapy any longer, this stranger was willing to listen. Shouldn’t that have been enough for Van to decide to speak? “It’s a long story, and it’s… not a boring one, sort of an after school special, but..” With a shrug, she stared down at the mug of tea, her reflection showing in the glossy texture of the liquid. “I don’t do this, usually. Talk to people. I mean, I have a private twitter account where I complain, but I don’t ever want people to read it.” With a laugh, she raised the mug back up to her lips and took another sip. “I feel older than I should be, I guess. It fucking sucks. I just…” A brief pause, and Van inhaled sharply, “want to be a kid again, but that won’t happen. That’s all it is.” That was the most she could say, she thought. 
The more Teagan listened, the more she was beginning to realize that her and Van had a lot in common. She likely had monsters creeping beneath her bed when she was younger too. Maybe she even spent most nights tossing and turning as well. That cache of anguish stored away for any given moment, on any given day to burst open the lock like a volcano set on marring its domain with pain. Lucky for Van though, Teagan had a way with monsters. Being one herself, she knew the best methods of defense.
Hell, she’d done so many awful things, maybe it was time she used her body as a shield. Set everything into balance with a little sacrifice. “You know,” Teagan chuckled dryly, thinking of how Van said she sounded old. “I do sound a bit elderly, don’t I? You’ll probably sound like me in no time with the way you’re feeling.” She took a sip of her tea, hoping the warmth of it would soothe her tightening chest. “You’re in your, what? Early twenties? I felt old when I was your age too. Since I was ten, really, but that’s another story. I’m here to listen to yours.” She took a deep breath, “A header is a heavy enough burden. Sounds like you have a little extra weight piled on and having to give it—to carry it alone is getting exhausting.” Teagan sighed heavily, clasping her hands tightly around her cup. “You wanna be a kid again? Ain’t gonna happen, but we can pretend. I’ll get even more sweets out, we can watch cartoons, and hell, let’s make a fort. Forget the world. You’ve got some time in here. Let yourself have it. We lose so much of it so quickly. We’ve got to be kids when we can.”
Van didn’t think that wise belonged anywhere close to her name, or to who she was as a person. She didn’t have any kind of knowledge on how to help people. She just spoke, and sometimes when she did speak, it got her into trouble. “Twenty exactly,” Van murmured, mirroring Teagan in the way she took another sip of the tea. It burned her mouth, but she didn’t care. She looked up over the cup at Teagan as she continued to speak. “You don’t have to.” Half the time, Van was pleading to faceless strangers on the internet to hear her out. The aforementioned twitter account only had a few followers, but they were close friends from online forums that she’d made over the years. Van wasn’t sure how to talk to somebody she’d only known for a handful of minutes, maybe an hour at this point. 
At the woman’s offer of forgetting the world, Van laughed. It was dry, and there was no real humor in it, but she did laugh. The burn in her eyes from the tears she’d spilt prior to Teagan’s arrival made her feel raw. She hated it, hated feeling vulnerable. “Yeah, that sounds nice.” She traced one of the flower patterns on the mug with her thumb. “I don’t know if I remember how to be one either, which is the funny part.” She made jokes, sure, and spent a lot of her time playing video games, but those were mere distractions. “I…” She cleared her throat, then looked up from her tea at Teagan. “Fucked up a lot of different things, and now I guess this is my karmic debt or something.” To be miserable, sleepless, bitchless– all of it was for what had happened with Diana and Debbie. The double D’s of her own fucking misery. “But it is what it is. I’m not a kid, you’re right, and I’ll never be one again, but fuck I wish I’d been allowed to be one for a little while longer.” 
Teagan listened intently to what Van was saying, despite her pushback. And god, did she recognize that play. All she had wanted was for someone to listen, yet she built a box around her heart so no whispers could go in or out. Because what was worse than feeling the pain wrought by others? Knowing you could’ve stopped it, yet the only person you could blame was yourself. But maybe it was okay sometimes. 
Maybe since they both understood the importance of shielding themselves from others, they could both let the light in. Feel the warmth just enough to realize it wouldn’t burn. They couldn’t be wrong this time, could they? Teagan was sure she’d tread lightly due to her experience, and it was wrong to expect the same reaction, but she had enough intuition to know Van would do the same. Who else would do it anyway? Who else would give them back some time and allow them to kid around just a little longer?
“I’ll grab the blankets,” Teagan grinned, eyes sparkling with tears she wouldn’t let fall. “And you grab the remote.” She stood up to begin her search. “When I get back, you better have found something from that Disney network or I’m going to leave out the chocolate biscuits.” Trusting Van to do the job she was given, Teagan disappeared down the hallway and rummaged through a few closets to collect all the blankets she could. Taking the time to find their inner kids wouldn’t fix everything, but it would at least begin to mend the wounds. 
Van sat there for a moment, silence warping the distance from being okay and not being okay. Teagan’s voice cut through the self-deprecation like a knife made of steel and Van had to blink a few times to keep the tears from falling again. She glanced down at the coffee table where the remote sat. It had more buttons than she realized remotes still had. Why not just stream? Van didn’t think she’d ever had cable. Any news channels her parents watched were usually on their laptops. That’d been years ago, though. Van hesitated for a moment, the sound of movement coming from Teagan and whatever it was she was doing in the hallway. 
After turning the television on, Van flipped through the channels, reading too many of the descriptions that came across the guide. After her distractions, she eventually Disney XD which offered re-runs of Gravity Falls. It’d been years since she’d watched it, but it had been a comfort show to her at some point before She-Ra took point. “I found something, I hope it’s okay.” She fidgeted with the remote, still not sure what she was doing in some random woman’s house putting on cartoons after crying and getting her front porch all muddy. It felt like a fever dream, but Van didn’t know how to say no. For once, she wanted to be cared for, and Teagan seemed willing to do that, even if turned out to be artificial. 
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sup3rw0man · 2 months
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If they ain't dyslexic, disabled, dysfunctional, disney ears wearin, depressed, disgusting, Dumbledore looking ass, drugged up dick dissing Dicky Ricky n Dawn, delusional duckling of disappointment deadbeats, down syndrome dna, down right dictated son of a bitch in a ditch, Sundown dick rider dope loving, dwarf, dumpster Debby Ryan fan, day loving, DC fan, dog, dead, death hearing, dark emo, dis track, dab thievery, dmming Twitter dick, DJ shitter, dimming dynamic of a dot head looking, deuce, denim loving, dejected, double boobed, 0 dollar, dork, dashing thru the snow, dead dear hitting car dickhead, deli smelling, DIY trash, dumpling of dough looking ass, then your okay.
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lindsaywesker · 4 months
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Reach.
‘The A-Z Of Mi-Soul Music’ starts at 1.00 p.m. The Letter W (Pt. 2). Executive Producer: Debbie Mills. Your education continues. http://Mi-Soul.com online & on DAB plus across London & Brighton. Big-up Mi-Soul Radio & big-up the amazing Abi Clarke (absolutely killing it on Mi-Soul right now!)
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airsoftaction · 8 months
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leanstooneside · 1 year
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1/7/2023 DAB Chronological Transcription
Job 14-16
Welcome to Daily Audio Bible Chronological. I'm Jill. Today's the 7th day of January, and this means that you made it an entire week. And, well, if you ask me, I think that's worth a celebration. What you want? A steak? A coffee, a nap? All of the above. Find something that is just a little something that says well done. Commemorate this moment. You made it an entire week. And what a week it has been. We have covered a lot of ground here in the Old Testament. And just a little word of warning. It's not a bad warning, but it's a warning. You're going to have to settle in here a bit. We're going to be in the Old Testament for much of the year, and then we'll turn that page from the Old Testament to the New. Sometime, I'm not going to say when, a bit down the road and you're going to feel the exhale on the page turn. So just settle in here for a bit. Get some comfy shoes. It's going to be a journey. It's your thermos of water or you're a clean canteen for some coffee. But for now, on this day, well done. Well done on your first week. Let's jump into scripture. Today we're continuing the book of Job reading, chapters 14, 15 and 16. Today is the last day in the New Living translation. And then when we transitioned from myself to my daughter China, tomorrow she'll change translations and she will let you know all about that herself. Job, chapter 14.
Prayer:
Father, we thank you for your word today. We thank you for this week that we've had here together in Your Word, individually, collectively, in community. I pray that as we go through your word together that as we listen and hear and open our eyes to see and our ears to hear in our hearts to receive that we will be transformed not by thinking about somebody else that this applies to. But hearing and applying what we need to change within and allowing the power of the Holy Spirit to come and change us from the inside out. I pray that as we listen and hear, that you will lead us into all truth as you are all truth. And we now let go of the things of this week that we have left undone that are not ours to take into next week. Leave them at your feet without guilt, without shame, and we embrace all that is to come, all that is you. Thank you for meeting with us here and I pray this now in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Announcements:
It's been my joy, my honor to be here with you this week, introducing you to this beautiful community of people. And I now hand you over to the beautiful, delicate, yet capable hands of my daughter, China Brown. And you are in for a treat. You'll meet her tomorrow and I will be back with you the week after next. I'm Jill. Until then, love one another.
Community Prayer Line:
Good morning, Daily Audio Bible family. Happy New Year. This is Unevochew calling from the UK. Debbie, your call was played today, the 4 January. Thinking about a second 3rd caller that was played. You said you're pregnant at 22 and you don't know how to love yourself. You try taking your life on Christmas day. Well, Debbie, you do know how to love yourself. I'll start with that. Because if you didn't, you wouldn't call to request prayers. And that is the best thing you could ever do. The best request you could ever make is to ask the family of God to remember you in prayers, to lift you up when you cannot lift yourself up. We are here for you. We will continue to pray for you. And by the grace of God, you see, life has its ups and downs. After Jill read the book of Job today, she said one of the things she said was sometimes we ask why the good bad things happen to good people. Yeah. Sometimes we ask ourselves why do things we do not want or things that are not super will happen to us? That is life. And that is where we anchor ourselves to God. We hold on to him no matter what, no matter the tribulation, no matter the trials. We make mistakes. Yes, we are human beings, but then we learn to move on from our mistakes and to make better choices. You have made a mistake. You are just human. But you do love yourself. Because for the fact that you have requested prayer and I promise you, we will stand with you. We will back you up in prayer. We will lift you up. And by the grace of God, I ask God for peace beyond understanding. God bless you.
Good morning, DABC family. This is Lady of Victory on the morning of Wednesday, January 4, and this message is from my dear sister Debbie. Welcome and thank you so much for reaching out. You are not alone and we want you to know that we love you and we need you here. I want to tell you that Satan is a formidable enemy. His primary weapon is deception. And the lies that he tell us are powerful. But there is something even more powerful than Satan's lies. And that's the truth about who God says that you are and your identity in him. So we already know that from the first encounter in the garden to the present day, that Satan has used deception to win our affections. He influences our choices that way. He destroys our lives in one way or another. Every problem that we have in this world is the fruit of deception. And that's simply the result of believing something that isn't true. And you are worthy. And one of the lies that Satan tells us, it relates to women's worth. If we feel we're worthless and inferior, instead of accepting the truth of who God says we are, that because we are in Him, we are dearly loved children of God, then we will never change. If we can't believe that we can change, that we'll go and continue living in spiritual bondage, and if we believe that we're doomed to fail, we'll keep sinning, and we'll be miserable, frustrated, unhappy women. But I'm going to tell you, Debbie, that through Christ, you can change. So my prayer for you is, Lord, I pray that you will show Debbie clearly any lies that she have believed about herself, that the enemy has spoken to her. Then show her the truth that will set her free. That I thank you for your word. And I thank you for the Holy Spirit, which will point Debbie to the truth. Help her to walk in truth today and every day. Amen.
Hello, DABC family. This is Diana from Florida, and I just want to pray for Debbie, who called in in the January 4 podcast. Do you have any? Father, I come before you, Lord, and I just put Debbie into Your hands right now. Debbie is 22 weeks pregnant, and she's highly depressed. She is lonely. She has a mental illness or some sort of illness called the Gorophorbia. And God, I just want to come alongside her and pray. Pray, Lord God, that you would surround her with people that love her and that you would allow her to find breakthrough. Jesus, whatever strongholds is gripping her right now that isn't allowing her to receive love. I pray in the name of Jesus that you would pray that right now. God, give her the love. Help her receive it. Receive it, Lord Jesus, for she is deserving, she is worthy any feelings of unworthiness. I pray, Lord God, that you would remind her to cast her cares upon you, for you care for her. You died on the cross of Calvary for her, for her sins. She is loved by you first and foremost, Father. And I just pray that you would help her be healed in this hour. We love you, Lord, and we thank You in Jesus name. Amen.
Greetings the DABC Family. My name is Chris. I'm from New York. Happy New Year. It's January 4, 2023, and I've been part of the DABC since last year. But this is my first time calling in, and I'm calling to pray for Debbie, the 22 year old who is struggling with depression, loneliness, and I believe she said she tried to commit suicide and really touched my heart. So I'm going to pray for her. Lord, we bless you and thank you, Lord God, for your grace and mercy, Lord God, we thank you, Lord God, that we could come to your throne of grace, oh, Lord God, and that we could come boldly to the throne, Lord God, where we just receive grace and mercy, Lord God, and we know that you hear us when we call. Lord and Father, I call upon you for Debbie right now. That you will touch her wherever she's at. Lord God, I pray that you will lift her up and give her strength, O God, in the name of Jesus, lord, you said, call upon your name in the day of trouble, O Lord God, and I pray that she will call upon your name, o Lord God and father, you said that a broken and contrite heart. You will not despise, Lord God. So I pray, Lord God, that she's broken, that she's hurting, Lord God, that you will reach her where she's at. Lord God, I pray that you will bring people around, a community of believers who will love upon her and show her the way and help her and lift her up. O Lord God, I pray that she will be able to find a church community, Lord God, that will help her to grow and that she will continue to follow you, Lord God. I don't know where she's at with you and her faith. Lord God, I pray if she hasn't totally given her life over to you, Lord, that she would choose this day, O Lord God. But if she has, Lord God, I pray, Lord God, that you will show yourself mighty in her situation, O Lord God, and turn things around. Bless her and do a work, Lord God, that she will see, O Lord. God. That these prayers O Lord God, are important, Lord God that she called on us, Lord God, and reached out in faith in O God and we were able to pray for her, Lord. So Debbie, we love you and we continue to pray for you. God bless.
Hey family. It's, Pam, His Ransom Soul in New Jersey. Yeah, it's been a while since I made a vocal appearance here. I just listened to the January 4 podcast and Debbie, first time caller, I heard you and my heart is very heavy and broken for you and for your situation. I hope this doesn't sound cliche, but please know that you are not alone. Even though you are physically isolated, you have a family here at DABC. I have a wee bit of understanding about your phobia, as my sister in law suffered from it for years, and it's a debilitating thing. Please know that I'm praying for you and for the precious, unborn child you're carrying. I'm also so very happy and thankful you did not succeed in taking your own life, and I beg you to please not try that again. Debbie, as someone who also struggles with depression, I can relate to how incredibly difficult it is to believe that you were made in the image of God and that you're cherished by him. But please know that you are keep surrendering your life to him every day. Even though I don't know you personally as a sister in Christ, I love you, Father God. Please send help and healing and hope to your daughter Debbie in whatever form, whatever manner you see fit, because you know what's best for her. Please remind her how much she is loved by you and by those of us here in the DADC family and show her how to love herself and to receive love. Please protect her and her unborn child and please provide for her in every way imaginable. And I thank you, Lord, and praise you for how you're going to work this all out for Debbie. In Jesus's mighty name. Amen. Debbie, please keep calling in. Call in as often as you need to, honey. Keep reaching out to us here, but most of all, keep reaching out and holding on to Jesus.
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chaoticcliquemom · 2 years
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Josh and Debby hanging out with Mark & friends,for the opening of the new Dabs Myla show 😊 Reposted from @markhoppus More from Friday’s opening of the new Dabs Myla show. Photos by @justwilliet https://www.instagram.com/p/Ckr7GrENSzqDzWtwGHyfNk-ZjiszCGYUfUJYts0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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