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#on the spot ig
someonewhos-world · 8 months
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The trudge to finding the stupid cab was quiet. Mostly. Jace somewhat blocked out most of Noelle's unhappy grumbling about her hair and clothes being wet. Oh and her shoes,Jace realizes.
The deeper red haired girl counts to 8 before looking at Noelle for a moment, assessing the damage done. The aforementioned disgruntled teen's long hair was sagging, sticking to her face and beginning to frizz a little while air drying. Some of her tips dripping with water. A little tangled in her hoop earrings. (Salt or Fresh? Jace doesn't exactly know,but she assumes fresh, the eels looked like European Eels.)
Her clothes were soaked, Jace knows fully that her clothes were heavy and dragging her down. She knew her shoes and socks were wet too, from the squelch of water in her sneakers and the occasional grimace on the girl's face. There's goosebumps on her arms and various eel bite marks that were bleeding steadily.
Jace turned away, processing the new information before stopping. Noelle stopped a few steps a head, raising an eyebrow at the kneeling girl who dug through her backpack.
"What are you doing?" Noelle narrowed her eyes, turning towards Jace as she paused and looked at Noelle with a smile. The former took in the latter's appearance, leaves and a stick or two tangled in her wind messed hair,no more were the cat clips in her hair. (Though Noelle was sure Jace was the one with the outlined cat hair pins and Jess had the solid. She never really took a mental note.) What was usually pinned back,was in the latter's face and obscuring her line of sight. Theres small tears in Jace's sleeve gloves, exposing old scarring that's darker against her tan skin. Her skirt is torn in some places, petticoat dirty.
"Getting you a new shirt," Jace smiled, eyes creasing a little. Noelle crossed her arms,eyebrow raised. Jace stands, handing Noelle a neatly folded black,one size too big shirt. She looks at Jace with a unreadable expression before unfolding it. A beat of silence passes before Noelle lowers the shirt, staring at Jace with a pinched expression like the former handed her a lemon. (Jace wont admit to the startled snorted giggle she let out.)
"This is a Green Day shirt." Noelle deadpanned, waving the offending piece of clothing. Indeed, on the front, was the cover of a Green Day album. Jace smiled,amusement pleasantly welcomed in her veins and her expression. "Yes," She giggled, covering her mouth was her bracelets clinked at the same time as Noelle's clinked together on her own wrists. "I dont have anything else that would fit you." She defended, raising her hands in mock defense as Noelle's gaze sharpened for a moment before somewhat deflating. Weighing her options, the aforementioned teen decided that wearing a shitty, bleach splattered band shirt, was more better and leaves her with less of a chance of getting sick.
Noelle mumbled something unintelligible before stalking off to a Bush. Jace turned away, examining her gloves before removing them. She turned back towards Noelle, snorting in amusement at how the green day shirt clashed a little with her usual aesthetic. Noelle frowned but nodded a little.
"Thank you, I appreciate it."
"Mhm. No one deserves to be in three different layers and weighed down."
The track continued,but not the silence was more comfortable. Though, Noelle amused the question of why Jace helped, only to be partially stunned when the girl admitted that Jody was a force to be reckoned with. Not that Jace ever knew. But something about short girls being fairly scary in their own,unique ways.
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wowo!!!! I wrote em!!! I should write my gym final!!! With the same enthusiasm!!!
Genderswapped AU + Noelle belong to @same-name-supremacy
Jace belongs to me :3
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sheerakk · 1 year
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banemaus · 14 days
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ignore… that i only draw him ever… please. had to figure out how his burn scars work
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succo-al-limone · 1 year
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Atsv memes for the taste
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hoofpeet · 5 months
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running-with-kn1ves · 7 months
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Drunken Stupor
A/N: this is based off of that drunken yan gangster idea that I couldn't get out of my head. I might rewrite it or do it differently but this is 4 u my 1 gangster lovin' anon for now!
OG Yandere Gangster Drabble (nsft) w/ da Yan Gangster Ramble
TW: kidnapping, drunken yandere, noncon kissing (no nsft), threats, toxic behavior, 
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Puzzles, accompanied by whatever news channel you could get through. Paint-by-number pictures, and shitty DVD’s from another time. Horribly thin sheets and an aching back--- you were completely, utterly, and seemingly irrevocably, isolated. The tight handcuffs around your feet only allowed you to hop around the house, barely making it to the front door before you tripped over the rug and nosedived into the cold, black floor. 
How long has it been? When was the last time you felt the spring wind on your face? You weren’t even allowed to open the windows, out of your captors fear of you screaming for help, even with him right next to you. He gave you countless things to keep yourself entertained, whether they be knitting grandma-like sweaters or taking up a different artistic hobby, anything that could keep you in one spot for long without the need to move or the option to hurt yourself. 
You were tempted to scream, to throw your half-finished puzzle at the wall and destroy the nice room set up for you that once belonged to the lone bachelor-- who, was much later than usual tonight. Your throat was too sore to keep up with the screaming however, and you pushed it to the back of your mind to try again tomorrow. If he came home all of a sudden and found you screaming at the ripe hour of 11 PM, he might do more than just threaten with one of his switchblades. 
You hated being around the bastard, feeling so terrified and weak like maybe today would finally be your last-- but at this point, you were going insane being by yourself for so long. Even a nice screaming match with him until your voice finally left you would more desirable than watching another 80s thriller that would haunt your dreams, alone. For someone who wasn’t home very often, he certainly had an extensive collection of old gangster movies, romcoms too even. But you couldn’t put Sixteen Candles on again without wanting to rip your eyes out-- not even one of his five million copies of The Godfather. Who needs that many copies of the same movie?
Your exhausted, beaten-down brain jolted at the sound of someone jerking at the door handle. The door practically thumped with the lock against the wall, dust raining as it was violently ripped back and forth. But then came the familiar jangle of an overloaded key ring, one you had heard most nights for what you can only assume has been the past month. 
Finally, your spiked anxiety crashed when you saw those familiar, much-too-shiny-for-a-gangster-to-be-wearing black leather shoes thump inside. You peaked your head out from your sitting position near the opened bedroom door, trying to get a glimpse without getting up and alerting him of your presence. It was inevitable for him to come to you, his kidnapee, but you tried to postpone the smothering for as long as possible. Maybe now was the time to chuck that puzzle. 
“You reallyyy gotta hold *hic* on mee…”
Mismatched footsteps trudged, stopping first to hit the corner of what you could only assume was the livingroom loveseat.
“Move outa ma way, couch! ..Even though you… treeat me *hic* badlyy..”
You heard the raking of fingernails on the couch cushions, the clink of a bottle rolling on the ground back and forth. You didn’t dare look back through the door crack. Maybe you should shut it? Lord knows what that would cause him to do, though. 
“You still gotts’a hold on me…” 
The sing-songy voice came closer, belonging to the madman you dreaded the return of. Within the crack of the door you saw a dark silhouette, the TV casting a face-shadowing glow that made you just an inch more terrified. 
“Hey, baby…” He hiccuped. 
“Well that’s new,” You started, looking away from him back to your puzzle. “When did I become your ‘baby’?” 
He moaned thoughtfully, thinking about your rhetorical question. “After you kidnapped me, I suppose?”
Maybe it was wrong to poke the beast, especially because he smelled like dirty whiskey and had three buttons too loose on his dress shirt, showing a deep scar betwixt his faint chest hair. A vulnerable image he’d never let you witness soberly. 
“Hrmmm….” He pushed his entire weight on the door, letting it creak open as he looked at you with a smile. 
“I dunno…maybe.” He laughed a little, giving a small snort like a schoolboy hearing his first nasty joke. 
You rolled your eyes. Damn, as if you weren’t on edge before, now you were going to have to deal with the equivalent of a murderous toddler who’s been threatening to hurt you ever since you were first brought here. Drunken fools were best left at the bar. 
But your icy demeanor didn’t sway his unsettingly good mood, the gangster opening the door all the way to flop onto your (unwillingly) shared bed. He dug his face into the sheets that smelled like you, looking at the back of your head that was pressed against the edge of the mattress.
“Was thinkin’ bout’cha…” He murmurs, tugging at a strand of your hair from behind. “Couldn’t stop talkin’ to the boys, ‘bout how pretty you are..” 
The short yanks at your hair to get your attention were becoming annoying, though you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of glaring face-to-face. 
“Told em’ how nice you look when yer sleepin’, when ya brush ya teeth, sayin’ that they’re not allowed to have ya....”
You hummed in response, trying to bend away to get closer to your puzzle. But you could sense the bubbling in your stomach, could feel that something was coming. Whether it’d be a bunch of slobbered kisses or your early demise, you couldn’t tell. 
“Oh really?” You asked, knowing he’d been adamant on not saying a word or letting make a peep about your existence in his gang-funded condo. 
“Yah, I did. Don’t believe me? Said i’d cut their fingers off, like boss does when some’n fucks up. I’d slam into em, make em watch while I...” 
He went quiet, and you thanked whatever made him. Whatever he said, you didn’t want to know; you’d already had enough of an unwilling look into his violent thoughts. 
“Well, doesn’t matter now, right... ‘cause now I gots’ya here. Mmph,” You hear him kick his shoes off, his face coming up to bury in your hair. “Smellin’ so good, lookin’ so nice fr’ me… wanting you so bad.” 
The sound of him inhaling you, his nose pressed to your neck as he shimmies his head deeper against you like a cat is uncomfortably warm. You feel two hands creep up, looking for your shoulders to push you back and make you more accessible. 
The gangster wasn’t normally so affectionate, so quiet and simple when he spoke. You were waiting for it to be replaced by his normal, angrily resentful behavior, the type that’d pull you by the hair to kiss you, that’d rant about the idiots he’d had to deal with for the day at you. But maybe, just maybe, you were in the clear for now?
“You’re acting weird,” You try to jerk away. “I’m not in the mood to entertain you, okay? Just, let me do my puzzle in peace. Go take a shower or something.”
He’s quick to respond, wrapping veiny arms around your shoulders and dangerously close to your neck. 
“Nuh huh, not unless yer comin’ with me, wanna show how much I loove you,” His head pops up closer to yours, the stressed crinkles under his eyes making him look older. “Cuz’ baby, you reallyy gotta hold on mee..” 
“Stop stop stop.” You couldn’t take the second-hand embarassment of listening him to try to sing again, horribly off key and far too confident in each drawn out word. “What do I have to do to stop you from singing again?”
“I can’t hold it in though. Love’s too strong for you, love.” His disheveled hair, once slicked back in an oily black, now strewn about across his forehead as it nearly covers his eyebrows. He presses his forehead towards you. “Lemme kiss. Told the boys you give the best kisses, lemme prove it..”
“Prove what-- they’re not even here!” You try to go under his arm-barricade, only to be stopped as he practically puts his full weight forward, dragging him with you each time you move. 
“Lovin’ you for so long, jusst a kiss, just one kith..” He reaches for your cheek with his lips, ignoring how you whip your head around in retaliation.
“No, no! You stink like a bar and ciggarettes, get off me.”
He grunts in frustration, biting down on his lower lip as his dark, full eyebrows furrow together. 
“Let me kiss or i’ll.. I’ll gut you like a fish, my lovely..” 
You stopped at that, looking out of the corner of your eye to his pink-tinted cheeks and strong neck that sweated at the sight of you. 
He puts a ringed knuckle to your cheek, huffing as his eyes go half-lidded. His suit was all wrinkled from rolling around on the bed, dirty with the day’s work and bar-stench as he forced you back against the end of the mattress. 
“C’mon, don’t make me say stuff like that just for a kiss…” He whined, scooting closer. “Maybe I’ll start singing again, y’knoww, if y’don’t come close.” 
“Please just… don’t hurt me.” You mumbled, trying to avoid that blank, dark look he often held that came crawling back a moment ago. You didn’t want that sober side right now; this was somehow easier to handle, even if it meant losing your dignity. 
“Don’t wanna, never will,” He hums, staring unbothered at your lips, as if he wasn’t holding you tight enough to suffocate. “S’just kiss me, need it bad..” 
You looked around, as if there was anyone else looking, trying to avoid the task that made you shiver inside. 
But you didn’t get a chance to reject the drunken gangster again, his wet lips coming against the side of your face. He poked the tip of his tongue out, flicking against your lip before going tongue-first into your surprised mouth. 
Anytime he had tried to kiss you, to do anything overtly intimate, the most he released was the silent huffs of a man too wrapped up in himself to let you hear anything of pleasure. But now, you witnessed the lewd shlops of his lips against yours, the neediness of the back of his throat, groaning to be deeper inside of you. 
One of his heavy hands cradled the back of your head, his stupor not caring (or rather, not noticing) how little you moved, how you seemed to be backing into his large palm that massaged your hair. 
“Loved’ya forever, so happy you were so stupid…” He mumbles between licks to the corner of your lip, diving back into the sticky warmth of you. “What kinda… mph, idiot, doesn’t..hugh, report to the police..?” 
With his arm once wrapped around you, the gangster takes your limp wrist to his collar, bringing it to hold his loose tie. He makes you drag him closer, guiding your slow and frowning lips in his one-sided makeout session. 
“Not’ma fault, making your life so much better now.. N’now, you’re mine.” He grins, a stupid little grin from the alcohol and delusion swarming his head as he consumes you, fingers coming to fiddle with your cotton T-shirt as he draws lines down your chest. “My sweet sunshine, all mine, forever n’ ever.” 
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ratatatastic · 3 months
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cats attending a yacht party as if they werent at booze garden at 1am the same day is so incredibly-
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also matthew MATTHEW THAT SHIRT. THAT SHIRTTTTT. WHAT IS THAT.
6.29.24 (x)
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voxxian · 1 year
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voltron + 2023 = me
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uniquezombiedestiny · 5 months
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"your other fragments went off to see a new galaxy. i bet they've turned into a big, beautiful comet by now."
"you think so?"
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different text placement + no text versions :)
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pigeonmilk-216 · 1 year
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I know nobody asked, but I just spent an hour of my life researching this, so have it ig?
To the best I can figure, here’s a very rough timeline of the interesting points in House’s life, leading to S1:
1991: Wilson and House meet at a medical convention in New Orleans
1994: House meets Stacy in a game of paintball with Lawyers v Doctors
1995: House gets the Esther case (on wiki the exact words are “in or around 1994” and I like to think that this case, which kinda screwed with House a bit, was a stepping stone in the Stacy/House relationship
1996: House is hired at PPTH by Cuddy
1996/1997: Wilson is hired at PPTH through a suggestion by House ( Wilson could have actually been hired basically at any point after House was hired until S1, 2004, but me thinks this is just the prime time for Wilson to be hired bc then within the two years, he marries Bonnie and spends his entire time with House after the infarction)
1999: The Infarction and Stacy’s leaving
2002: Chase is hired onto the House team after a call by his father
2004: 6 months before the start of S1, Cameron was brought into to the team and three days before, Forman was hired.
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mysterycitrus · 7 months
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Trying to prove a point with someone: between Wally & Donna, who would Dick pick as his best man/woman/whatever in his (theoretical) wedding?
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coughing baby vs hydrogen bomb
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haomnyangz · 6 months
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thats not a dog tag around his neck thats a medal
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synthshenanigans · 1 month
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I miiiight color this properly but have a funky soul design i did for fun :}
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[close up + a small text about the guy below and then some]
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While it is mainly just for fun & not my main design for Soul, i think Soul's form would change throughout Cacophony a fair amount. There's still some things it cant change but depending on its view on himself, Heart & Mind, or Whole would alter how his apperance looks. Not necessarily a bad thing either, just a form on how he feels or views himself. Kinda like when you make a persona i guess? He just swaps a lot between them.
Also smaller thing being that it's "tail" can change as well! More obvious being the relation to the instrumental album cover but also it can changed into other things as well. An Umbrella for Spring and a Storm, a gavel for parts of Mucka Blucka, TSE & The Bidding, or it being one of those bid cards youd hold up to bid your amount [also during The Bidding]. Can also change to the trident during TSE & The Bidding too, the red guitar in Two Wuv as well. Just generally whatever he want/feels like!
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Shanks: If i let you go after raiding an island under my flag then all of the other weak islands will be in danger.
Bartolomeo: But i love Luffy
Shanks: Oh, damn. Maybe i could let you go after all-!
His crew: Captain.
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drunkonduty · 3 months
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TW: FAST MOVEMENT!!
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love-death-and-desert · 4 months
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