#what the fuck am i suppose to be doing in this fucking mess to make friends

[strawberrymochin]

(in which you enter the demon slayer realm)

Sanemi eyed you for a while, his hands gripping tight on his sword, as blood slowly trickled down to its tip, dripping on the mud, tainting it red.

Well, the lower rank 6 demon, he was supposed to slay, laid dead on the ground, a little far from you, growling on anger as his body disintegrated into ashes, blown by the slow breezes, dispersing into thin air.

Killed by you. Barehanded.

The moon glowed big and bright, over your heads. "Who are you?" Sanemi shinazugawa said in a horrifying tone, "Or shall I rephrase my question....what are you?".

Shit.

You mentally smack yourself for acting like that infront of him, well that's totally not your fault though, you didn't knew, sanemi was going to make his appearance, moreover it's a background plot, not mentioned once in the manga. You open your mouth but close it again, not sure what to answer.

"Definately not a human."

"I am." You can't help but defend yourself, feeling triggered at his question. Having a mere charecter question your existence is quite disrespectful.

"Is it? I haven't seen a 'human' girl ripping off a demon head barehanded." He comes a bit closer, placing the tip of his sword on your neck, pressing it lightly. "Quiet a sight huh!.......you know I hate lies and surprisingly your aura doesn't resemble humans. What shall I do with that pretty girl?"

Wait. Sanemi shinazugawa called you pretty.

"Pretty....? You think I'm pretty? Oh my god, sanemi shinazugawa called me pretty...." You keep on mumbling to yourself, not being able to contain the excitement. Even though you liked the ever sadistic giyu tomioka more, sanemi was still hot. I repeat fucking hot and feral.

You didn't exactly like ending up in the demon slayer realm but didn't particularly hate it. You have, somehow, the ability to enter manga realms. And, this was your second time, accidentally entering one. The first realm you ended up entering was jujutsu kaisen's, and that was pretty messed up, considering that demon slayer was a heck more peaceful. Atleast you believe so.

Meanwhile sanemi was dumbstruck, first of all, according to his point of view, a girl looking weird creature, who claims to be human but ripped down a lower moon without a nichirin sword, was just impossible. You have to be a demon. And you should fear a sword pressed firmly on your neck, however you were there being giggling flustered mess.

"Stop trying to trick me you demon! It's time for you to join your troops in hell.....and how do you even know my name?"

"Yeah yeah whatever, but you called me pretty and I just....ahhh I love you—"

"S-shut up!" And this time, it's sanemi who's getting flustered. "How the heck you know my name? Forget it, I will just finish off you right here."

"Yeah yeah, whatever, but let's first get those kids home. It's quite traumatic for them to be here."

"Kids?"

"What you didn't know?"

The kids peeked out from the broken house, with eyes clouded in fear, tears stained cheeks, shaking. Sanemi gave a look from the side of his eye as he tilts down his swords rushing to the kids, "i won't let you harm them," shielding them from your vision.

"wouldn't it be better if you take them home rather than wasting time?" You say lazily, "you know what I take back what I said— i don't love you."

"Who wants to be in love with you anyway, filthy blood thirsty demon!" Sanemi fumed, sprinting from his position, "wind breathing: first form- dust whirling cutter."

That's it. You would be dead by now.

Sanemi turned around with a shit eating smile; which dropped in a sec. Lol. You were standing there intact. Ofcourse nothing would make you bleed after all you were a real human, unlike them.

You went to the kids, sighing, bending to their level, "hey it's fine, I know the scene over here was quite terrifying and this uncle over here is terrifying too, but it's fine. I will take you two home. Hmm? Come out."

The kids slowly came out, hesitating a bit.

By the time you took the kids home, its dawn, sanemi followed you suspiciously, grabbing the hilt of his sword tight. 'How did she even survived that? I cut right through her neck... moreover she ain't hurting the kids?' he thought.

The sun is about to rise still you show no sign of panic. What exactly is she? He thought

A demon who could walk under the sun?

"Hey sanemi, I'm hungry, can you buy me something to eat, I promise I will pay you later."

Part 2 ?

[pilabutsp]

UNTITLED STENDYLE COMIC - Part 3

The first part was a bit of a hard watch, but nothing really explicit happened… Yet.

We would make comments over the movie.

Several minutes passed, and I kept paying attention to the movie. I hear mumbling next to me.

Stan and Wends are talking about something in whispers, I can’t catch any of it, What’s up with them?

My attention returns to the screen. The protagonists in the movie are in a car, They are going hiking...

My brain can barely process what was happening, they got rid of their clothes and jumped into a lake. Once they were out and sat down at the lake shore two of them started… Kissing… And then-

They are quietly looking at the screen, Wends clears their throat.

“Well, That’s-”.

I stand up. There's no way I'm talking to them right now. Why the fuck did they show me this?!

“I’ll be right back!” I almost squealed.

Before someone has a chance to say something, I start leaving the room. 

“Pause the movie, or whatever, I need to pee-...” I said as an excuse.

What the hell is happening? What even is this movie? THAT KISS??? The way they were looking at me? Is this a kind of joke to them? How they act around me… WITH me, do they have an idea how they are making me feel? This is terrible, this is not right, this is not normal. We should have watched Clueless again, anything, really, anything but this.

“Kyle? Are you ok?” Stan asked from the other side of the door.

I sniffed before replying.

“… I’m good!”.

“Are you crying?!”.

I touched my cheek, catching a tear that I did not notice.

Stan sighs.

“Want me to come in and talk about it?”.

Stan opened the door and got in, walking to where I was sitting and kneeling in front of me. His hands are on my knees.

We are both quiet. What are we supposed to say? How am I supposed to react? What is he expecting from this?

I look at Stan when his hand is over my cheek.

“Is this about the movie?”

“Stan…”.

“Listen, we didn’t know it was going to be like THAT, we are sor-...”.

“Stan. Please, don’t do this.” I grab Stan’s wrist. 

“We can finish the movie another time, or never! Let’s go do something else if it helps you feel better, dude-”.

As we heard someone walking to the bathroom, we both turned our heads to the wide open door. Wends’ head popped inside.

Oh god, this can't be happening right now.

“I just don’t get it…”.

“Get what?” Stan asks, concerned.

I stand up with my arms outstretched.

“T-This! Both of you! I don’t understand what it’s up with you! And it’s so confusing I feel like you are messing with me!”.

“Ky- We could never!” Wends exclaimed.

“What do you mean Kyle?” asked Stan as he stood up too.

“Just- This whole… Weird special treatment you have with me… Our hangouts… It’s just not normal! It doesn’t feel normal to be like this with your friends!”

“Do you… Want us to stop?”.

“NO! I love them! I- I mean… That is not… necessarily… I want… I want answers.”.

“You want answers?” He is standing in front of me now.

“Yeah” I breathe out, ready to hear anything else but…

I kiss back.

We break the kiss and I stare numbly at Stan.

“wh… what”.

“THAT definitely did NOT answer any question, Stan!” Wends snaps, but they don't sound upset at all.

“We like you, Kyle. We REALLY like you, more than any of our friends, that’s why we wanted you closer than any of them…” Wends explains, like it's the most casual thing in the world.

“Y-You are joking, right?”.

I can't believe this.

“We aren’t” Stan reassures me.

“What about going somewhere else to talk about it?” said Wends with a sweet smile, slightly pulling my arm to get out of the bathroom.

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MASTERLIST

LAST

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[sports-on-sundays]

marc and reader breaking up bc of too many arguments and him being super sad

arguments / Marc Guiu / Part 2

Summary: Marc x female!reader - Marc is devastated because of the break up.

Warnings: implied depression, foul language, angst, mention of screaming, anxiety, mention of crying, angst, nausea

Requested?: Yeppers

Author's Note: Link to Part 1. There was another request that led up to this really nicely so I decided to just connect them as a part 1 & 2.

Marc Guiu stares up at the ceiling of his bedroom at two o'clock in the afternoon with the windows closed and the lights off, feeling like it's two o'clock in the morning.

You can't keep living like this, Marc. What's done is done. You said what you said. There's no way to fix it. Just move on.

But I can't.

I can't stop myself from loving her.

Pathetically enough- and Marc would admit in an instant that it is thoroughly pathetic- ever since that fateful day when she cut it off, his days have been a haze of football, sleeping, every so often forcing himself to eat and drink water, and doing what he's doing right now: letting the two sides of his thoughts argue with each other.

No one cares if you love her. She's done with you. You messed it up; it's your fault; oh well.

There's no way to fix it.

Just move on.

But no matter how much he tells himself, over and over, to just do that, it's like he can't.

It's like the picture of your lovely face is imprinted on the backs of his eyelids, so every time he blinks, every time he sleeps, you're there, looking like the angel you are, reminding him of how much he messed up.

"Ah!" he yells, tugging at his hair. "You idiot! You ruined it! Everything! She was the best thing that ever happened to you, and you fucking messed it up!

"You pathetic bastard! Get up and live your life! It's done! She's moved on and is probably happier than ever! Why are you letting her control you like this?"

On top of it all, he's been avoiding Gavi like the plague, knowing that you one hundred percent likely told him everything, all from your perspective, and knowing because of that, now Gavi probably hates his guts, too.

So, yeah. He's been avoiding Gavi and anyone close enough to him to have also heard. So Pedri is also off limits, and Ferran and João are iffy.

It's hard when he trains or plays with these guys nearly every day!

The only person he's told is Héctor, mostly just because he pried it out of Marc enough. He got annoying enough.

Ah, you idiot. Quit crying.

You're not going to let that girl ruin your life like this.

"Maybe he's not the only one who was in the wrong."

"What?" you ask, looking up at your best friend, Gavi. "What do you suppose I did wrong?" you ask, not too happy with this sudden statement from him.

Gavi shrugs. "I'm just saying, maybe you should've heard him out before it escalated so much. I don't know, though. What do I know?"

But you frown. "Probably nothing, but it still makes me think."

"Gee, thanks," he says, rolling his eyes.

"I honestly don't care, you know. It's fine. I don't want him back."

Gavi's lips purse as he says, "Then why do you bring him up every single conversation?"

You don't have an answer for this.

"Exactly," Gavi comments with a slight roll of the eyes. "Listen, I'm just saying- Marc isn't himself at all since you guys broke up. He's a shell of himself, and refuses to talk, honestly, anyone but Héctor, if he doesn't need to."

You frown. "I know, but..."

"All I'm saying is maybe he had a point."

"What does that mean?"

"It means if you're going to date someone, you've got to give stuff up for them. Including time and attention. And you were giving far more of that to me. I'm not saying you should get back with him; do what you want. But I am saying it's probably best to make amends, and not just let the last note of the symphony be screaming at each other, yeah?"

You lick your lips nervously. "I'll think about it."

Marc can see Héctor is staring at something behind his head, but before looking leans over to ask, "What is it?"

"Um," Héctor smiles nervously. "Y/n."

Immediately, Marc's eyes widen, reminding Héctor of a frightened rodent. "Please tell me you're joking."

Héctor gives a short shake of his head 'no.' "With Gavi and Pedri," he practically mouths.

Marc leans back, trying not to look easy to notice. Trying to look discreet. "Is it safer to leave or stay?"

"I reckon stay," Héctor responds.

Marc softly blows a raspberry, before looking down at his food. "My luck, I tell you," he murmurs.

"Sometime soon, you knew you'd run into her."

"I hoped not."

Héctor sighs. "I know."

Marc feels his anxiety rise when he watches you walk pass. Tossing your hair, with the sway in your step, confidence radiating off you.

He sinks his head down lower, nervously curling his napkin.

And then, as you're walking back, it's like something else takes control of his body, and he can't help himself but look up at you.

Your eyes meet.

Yours widen for a moment, and your steps begin to slow.

Marc is suddenly hit with a wave of nausea, and he says suddenly, "Héctor, let's get going now."

And you watch Marc and Héctor walk out, away from you, just like that.

But there was something strange in Marc's eyes.

Sorrow.

Loneliness.

Confusion.

Defeat.

But most of all, regret and guilt.

And seeing him like that makes you feel... strange.

You're not sure if you like it.

Shadows, passing in the night. Wind, come and gone. These mysterious concepts. A lonely boy and a confused girl.

Hands in his pockets, head down. It's become the natural stance for him. His hair has grown out and shadows his inky brown eyes. So many emotions that they're gone.

Imploded.

She holds her head up and flips her hair. Sharp tongue, quick remarks. Little glimmer when she winks. Confidence is key, but there's one thing that nags at her.

She wonders if it was all a mistake.

Their eyes meet on a dark street in the middle of a cool night, when neither of them should be out.

They both open their mouths to speak, but sound comes out of neither of them.

He reaches his hand out to her.

If he could fall into her arms, he would.

But the shadows shift, and she's gone. The wind carries her away. Like a secret not meant for his ears. Like a promise broken. Like glass that shattered but never made a sound.

Never hit the ground.

On a concrete wall, the side of a building, he writes with a Sharpie:

I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I still love you.

I need you to come back to me.

On a bathroom mirror, she writes in blood red lipstick:

Why can't I forgive him? Why can't I let him forgive me?

Why can't I let myself love him?

[peri-helia]

No use crying over spilt milk

Joe x Nicky Secret Agent AU

It’s a milk run, really.

Get in, make the drop and get out again. Something he’s done a million times, even in time sensitive situations.

Joe just has to make sure that Nicky doesn’t try to do the dishes before tomorrow morning. Under the kitchen sink isn’t one of his usual places of concealment, but he doesn’t want to risk Quynh or Nile finding any of his weapons under the sofa bed’s slats or in the guest room. So he’ll move his stuff, pry Nicky away from doing the dishes with kisses and convincing him that it’s okay to leave the pans to soak, just this once. Then he’ll extract everything while Nicky and Nile are on their morning run.

See? Easy.

He’s just nudging the cupboard door open with the toe of his boot, arms full, when there’s a rattling sound from inside the cupboard and the door springs open, the familar sound of weaponry thudding to the floor as a barrage of knives, and a couple of handguns fall out of the cupboard and skid across the floor around him.

Which. Are not his.  

What.

What.

Had Andy done an inventory and forgot to tell him? Stacking them haphazardly like this was normally Booker’s sort of thing -

There’s the light, rapid tread of someone running down the hall, of Nicky running down the hall towards the noise and towards trouble just like always and it’s all Joe can do to shout, “I can explain!”

Arms full of his Spare Bedroom Stash, standing on one leg in front of the kitchen sink was not how he figured he’d tell his husband he was a spy but to be honest he’d sort of not thought about it and just hoped for the best.

Christ, Booker’s really rubbing off on him.

“I can explain!” Nicky repeats, repeats – What the actual fuck - as he rounds the corner, hands raised.

“Uh – I” Nicky’s eyes dart from the mess on the floor to Joe’s weapon laid arms and back again. His face cycles through expressions too fast for even Joe to read them, but there’s flashes of panic, confusion and worry there. Everything Joe’s feeling right now, basically. 

Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthe

“What the fuck do you mean you can explain?!”

Nicky can’t even slice an onion without supervision, he forgot to take the knife guard off when they visited Booker’s family for dinner two weeks ago, Joe remembers hysterically, what the fuck is he doing with all this.

Nicky takes a deep, calming breath that comes out vaguely shuddery, his shoulders still somewhere about his ears, gaze resolutely fixed on Joe’s face. “Yusuf.” Oh fuck, not good. Can be very good in the will you spend the rest of eternity with me or the I’m going to pretend I am not going to let you talk me into spending all day in bed again way. But this is more of the Quynh’s ship went down. Andy’s stitches that Nicky thinks is from an appendectomy have re-opened sort of way. “Yusuf, habibi, would you sit down? Please?”

Joe puts the weaponry on the kitchen table, thinking about what a mad tableau this makes, the two of them sitting at the kitchen table, a pile of weaponry between them. Nicky quietly takes the opposing chair, sighing to himself when Joe doesn’t sit. Joe notices absently that Nicky takes the chair that is between Joe and the door, but angles it slightly so that he can see it too, the way he always does, even here, even at home.  

“I suppose I should start with the fact that – um, well, I’m not an translator”

Joe blinks because of course Nicky is a translator. He forever sits at this very table, earphones jammed over his ears, listening quietly. He starts ordering his coffee in one language and finishes it in another. He corrects the poor subtitles on Netflix, with a quiet mutter of ‘that’s not what they’re saying’, eyes flitting over the actors’ mouths as his brow furrows. There are notebooks and notebooks filled with his transcriptions. But, but all Nicky’s work comes from his laptop – the work laptop he has to use an app to open, not from his notebooks and – oh, oh God

 His eyes catch at Nicky’s own, those beautiful oceanic eyes, all big and pleading and Joe’s brain starts back on its track of whatthefuckwhatthefuck, the grip of his Beretta digging painfully into the meat of his palm. Nicky’s still talking.

“Joe? Tesoro, I really wish you would sit down. I –“ his Adam’s apple bobs, “di immortals is not an translation firm, it’s a front for my team, Quynh’s team and the whole me not being able to cook thing is a lie, a painful one but I'm too good with it and you'd have known and – I don’t own throwing stars” Nicky stops, mouth open, eyes trained on Joe’s hands.

Joe becomes painfully aware of the crick developing where his little finger is hooked though said throwing stars that Andy had got him for the Sao Paulo job years ago, just because he’d said there were cool and he’d wanted to learn. Because Andy’s the best.

“Of course not – these are mine!” It comes out somewhere between indignant, proud and enthused.

Well. Fuck.

This was not how he’d pictured this going at all.

[dkettchen]

Ok I get the Gojo Geto shippers now I get it now y’all are justified it’s fine I’m fine they’re perfect I understand now I get it now this is fine

[the-kipsabian]

why do i even bother reblogging my fics or posting my fics or writing my fics lmao who gives a fuck

[barley-st-band]

hey does anyone know how we’re supposed to survive it all. asking for a friend

[the-busy-ghost]

Um Duolingo, what the hell is this:

As if it wasn't bad enough that the new pathway removed a bunch of my progress (AND takes ages to move onto the next topic so I'm not improving), and that they removed the wordlist so I can no longer keep on top of vocabulary, now I have no idea whether I'm meeting my own daily target or not?S

[suncaptor]

I want to be capable of being met where I am!

[im-smart-i-swear]

Does Jiro has ghost like abilities (possession, ability to levitate things, etc etc) or does she just live in Shiro's head?

when i created this au, i thought the best option would be for her to be unable to interact with the physical world in any way(including possesion), beacuse i really wanted to lean into her isolation and how it affects her....... and while thats something i still want to emphasise here, lately ive been toying with the idea of jiro being able to impact the physical world somehow(though it still being fairly limited). i think letting her have some control could have a lot of potential! buuuut i also have no idea what abilities i want her to have lol

For now i think im not gonna give her any telekinetic abilities, bc i feel like it would be giving her too much power......... if she could throw shit, shed go APESHIT with it. it would made things too easy for her. i'm sorry babygirl but i'm NOT giving you the possibilty to throw knives and other sharp objects, i dont trust you to not kill someone:/

i really like the idea of her being able to temporarily posses her old body in certain circumstances tho- maybe when shiros uncouncious?? or like when hes is very tired or heavily injured she can kind of 'squeeze through' and take control back for a few minutes???? idk. i think this could be a very cool ability to give her- it cant be frequently used but can also be very helpful, and also theres so much potential for ✨shenanigans✨here>:) oh god i could put these fuckers in so many Situations with this..........

uhhh. so basically i think all of her influence on the physical world are through shiro. shes here bc of her connection to her old body, and thus its the only way for her to interact with anyone besides him- and shes NOT HAPPY about this(neither is shiro).

[professionaljester]

beating my brain into submission anytime it wants to draw bc i’ve told it for weeks now we’re done with that. we’re not an artist anymore stop trying to make art happen

[britneyshakespeare]

that’s my comfort celebrity scandal

[arthur-r]

(vent cw sorry i ran out of room in the tags to say that. it’s illness-related anger as usual. content warning for medical everything)

im so fucking sick though. just in general

[the-kipsabian]

im just unhappy scratch that the more i think about it the more im just straight up miserable and dont want to be here anymore

[blueslight]

Man FUCK autism its got me googling shit like how long do you gotta be dating to be able to say i love you... I dont fucking care abt the social rules on this shit i wish i could just wing it and act out of instinct !!! But no i am left studying shit i will never understand in fear of messing up because of. Shit i will never understand

[staycalm-atthedisco]

At the same time that I think it’s heinous for so many cities to not have almost any accessible bathrooms, once I do finally find a place that has bathrooms to use there’s always piss and shit all over the toilet seat and floor and trash everywhere so like. I get it.