#How long are tags meant to be

[loml-swiftie]

hiiii im a human, sorry

I heard on Tumblr people don't do blank profiles, so hey! I'm 24, live in Canada, and I'm a massive swiftie and animal lover. I use he/they pronouns and I'm kinda worried I just entered a massive dumpster fire lol.

[noornight]

Long distance besties. This definitely happened after the third movie (source: trust me bro)

Based on this

[iwasbored777]

Agent Stone with Doctor Robotnik be like

Credits to the artist: Shen comix on Twitter

[ribbononline]

Hoenn crossing, or something

[teratomatica]

you always land on all fours

[tatretot]

hellooo danandphilgames buddies!! happy belated 10 year (more like 5 but shhh) anniversary :-)

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 245

Now Danny would openly admit, if only to himself, that he had a type when it came to relationships. If they were strong, if they were a threat to him, then chances were he would develop some sort of crush. It was how he had dated Sam and Valerie (And Johnny & Kitty) when he was a bit younger, and hell, Sam had technically succeeded in killing him, even if partly. 

Attraction towards smart people who could kill him was honestly par for the course for a Fenton or Nightingale anyway. 

And he’d also admit he enjoyed a bit of time travel, learning about times and culture long before his time, to the point that he could blend in in ancient times just as easily as the time he had been born in. That it was natural to mutter in a language lost to time. 

So color him surprise when another man perks up in the bar he had paused to get a drink in, vibrant green eyes gleaming in interest and responds in turn. And not just in the language, but able to keep up when he talks about things that once existed but haven’t been rediscovered yet. 

And one thing led to the other, and there might have been some assassins and some shenanigans that end with them both laughing together in an inn and then more and- Okay he has a type alright, and he’s ticking each box! How is that fair? 

[friendlyengie]

And now we have the unfinished, uncolored eternal-WIP variety hour! 🎉! This months picks are “various gay people” and “random ‘put a character in situation’” ideas. The designs of the mercs as kids are partially brought to you by @illuteridae everyone say thank you to roger for his genius brain

[demonslayedher]

So this clears the air--Sabito makes a roundabout acknowledgment of Giyuu feeling he did not prove himself, while also saving face for Murata, whom Sabito is grateful to. Giyuu understands Sabito's intentions, so he chooses not to argue and just do his best to accept being a Corp member. Murata also catches on to what Sabito meant, but Murata is also easy to mess with, so Sabito can't help himself with the opportunity to tease Murata by keeping his surname a secret (after Murata leaves the room, he warns Giyuu never to tell him). Murata knows what's up, so he retaliates by telling everyone who knows it to never to let Sabito know his personal name (and that is how I got around the name issue for this fun and stupid and short little fix-it AU).

So anyway, Sabito's arms got shattered when he broke the very hard neck of the Hand Demon, so he hangs out with Urokodaki during the long recovery, whereas Giyuu heals up quick and starts going on missions as soon as his sword is ready. On his first mission, he happens to take down a really, really impressive demon, and this rookie is suddenly the talk of the Corp (which Giyuu finds kinda unsettling, especially since the Final Selection shame is still fresh).

Sabito is proud of him, really--he just always thought they'd go on that first mission or two together, that's all. Sitting around and healing is making him irritable.

But he eventually does heal and they do eventually go on a bunch of missions together, as well as their own solo missions, as well as missions with Murata. Thanks to how easily Sabito cleared the air after the Final Selection, Murata is very comfortable with both of them and likes hanging out with them. The Sabito-Murata-Giyuu ranking system is an ongoing joke. At least, for Sabito and Murata it's a joke.

Yeah, it is rough to work as hard as Murata does and then have two friends like that. But if anyone can handle that and not feel his masculinity threatened, it's Murata.

And like, Murata's cultivator had to have known of Urokodaki. Maybe he even had a huge inferiority complex. Maybe Murata's cultivator has a dark and petty side, somehow taking satisfaction that at least he could train students to survive the Final Selection whereas for so many years, Urokodaki never could. That would be a very interesting angle to explore, especially for what it might say about Murata recognizing that darkness in a man he respects so much, but choosing not to carry that darkness himself. But this is a light and fun and stupid fix-it AU, there is no room for that here.

Sabito and Giyuu often train together, with Sabito never ever going easy on Giyuu, but Giyuu always seemingly effortlessly able to keep up. Sabito, recognizing that Murata is frustrated with his own limits, offers to train with him too. It is quickly apparent that the series of whacks is getting Murata nowhere, and Murata knows it, but he doesn't give up. This is why Sabito has a lot of respect for Murata. He's a man.

He's also easy to tease.

Sabito is shocked--he had no idea Giyuu was ever so close to attaining that, or how quickly Giyuu rose in the first place (Sabito of course has risen almost as quickly).

Giyuu is bashful and awkward about it, since he knows how much of a surprise it will probably come as. After all, he more or less kept his position a secret all this time. He kind of expects Sabito to be mad. Also, Giyuu believes from the very core of his being that had Sabito not injured his arms and they started going on missions at the very same time, Sabito would absolutely be the one in the Water Hashira position. Another reason that Giyuu expects Sabito to be mad.

Sabito is surprised, yes, but he wasn't exactly... mad. He's proud of Giyuu, but kind of hurt that Giyuu was so shifty about it. But anyway, he tries to congratulate Giyuu, but since Giyuu is acting like Sabito should be mad, well, it makes Sabito mad. A Hashira shouldn't be all mopey like that!

Anyway, Murata is aware of all this, he finds this breakdown of communication super awkward. He somewhat friendly, somewhat formally offers Giyuu congratulations, but then tends to hang out a bit more with Sabito (easy to hang out with a fellow non-Hashira, after all). He wants to make sure Sabito is alright (since a part of him wonders if Sabito is mad about Giyuu attaining that rank instead of him), and this provides Sabito the man-to-man opportunity to talk about his feelings and why this all feels so surprising, and kind of strange. Murata gets Sabito's side of the story about them becoming friends and training together on Mt. Sagiri, and how Sabito always felt he had to look out for Giyuu, and like he was the older/stronger/more willful/manlier one in the relationship. At some level, he always wanted to protect Giyuu, not be protected by him. (They have totally watched each other's back plenty in battle by this point.)

Murata hears Sabito out, but makes sure to push him to work things out so that he and Giyuu can be back on friendly terms. They have an important friendship--and Sabito must treasure it, for those sorts of friendships don't last long in this Corp. Plus, he's certain that Giyuu treasures it too.

Giyuu, all by himself (typical Water Hashira behavior), is really bothered by the distance he caused between himself and Sabito, and he really wants to bridge the gap. He finally gets an idea.

Giyuu had been admiring how nice it was for Kanae that she got to keep her sister around all the time for company since she was her Tsuguko, plus, it's a formal way of appointing someone with the skills to be a Hashira, so Giyuu thought that would show his respect for Sabito too. But yeah, there's still the issue of how a Hashira lords over a Tsuguko, so Giyuu totally blames himself for having insulted Sabito like that. So much for their friendship, Giyuu will just embrace being all alone, going along his Hashira duties like nothing else matters, certainly not himself...

...meh, but that doesn't last for long, because Murata helps push them along to talk things out. Giyuu immediately apologizes for having taken the Water Hashira role that rightfully should have been Sabito's. Sabito insists that Giyuu is the right person for the role, and that he has always, always acknowledged Giyuu's talent.

When Giyuu tries to insist his skills are nothing compared to Sabito's strength, Sabito stops him and insists that Water Breath takes many forms. Giyuu's finesse is like a deep, still lake that rises like a tidal wave to swallow enemies whole--it is so far beyond the average Water Breath user's gentle sprinkle of water (Murata is totally hearing all of this and not pleased).

Giyuu takes this chance to explain that he offered the Tsuguko position to Sabito because he already sees him having Hashira caliber and just wanted a reason for them to go on missions together. Sabito gives Giyuu that bittersweet smile, but says that the Tsuguko position would be wasted, for he'd have nothing to learn from Giyuu. His own Water Breath is too different, too thrashing and active to benefit from learning from Giyuu's patient style. Sabito must follow his own path.

Instead, he hopes that Giyuu will instead take great care of Murata, who surely stands to learn a great deal from Giyuu as a Tsuguko. Giyuu doesn't know what to say, but his heart leaps at the realization that he truly is a Hashira, and that even he is capable of raising a true Tsuguko.

Murata is standing beside them, gaping, for no one ever asked him his thoughts about this.

Anyway. Nobody dies. Sabito is miffed about Tanjiro moving through training so quickly with one-on-one attention from Urokodaki that is too loving and gentle so he insists that Tanjiro not go to the Final Selection until he can break the rock (which Urokodaki finds ridiculous, because that was only ever a formality, but hey, Sabito knows a thing or two about surviving the Final Selection so Urokodaki says 'fine' and leaves Tanjiro at the rock for a year). Murata never really gets that much better, but he does benefit from training with Giyuu. They're all friends forever and ever. The end.

[kwonhochi]

SEVENTEEN ON SEVENTEEN - PART 1

inside seventeen: 6th anniversary behind / ima - even if the world ends tomorrow official mv / woozi for weverse magazine / suchwita with woozi / dino on leemujin service / suchwita with hoshi / wonwoo fora aera japan 2023 - eng translation by @wonwooszone / jeonghan for weverse magazine / seventeen at mama 2023 & 2024 / woozi for weverse magazine / cheers by seventeen - english translation / super by seventeen - english translation / via @hime1004_ on twt / shohikigen official mv / @hime1004_

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Comm for @ferronickel (for @gen-is-gone :> )

[needlefail]

Some leafs 🍃🍂🍁

[lovesickeros]

☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.

[biblically-accurate-dca]

super disorganized sketch page because i do what i want

[taxlthomas]

this is basically my crazy origin story btw

[superbat-lmao]

Alfred takes his first vacation 9 months after Jason comes to stay at the manor. He’s in England for two weeks visiting friends and traveling through his old homeland.

Jason and Bruce are home alone with each other and Jason has really only started to get comfortable. It’s a long two weeks, but they make it through.

When he comes back, he gives Jason a small souvenir he brought back with him and Jason asks him a million and one questions about how it went and who he saw. Alfred laughs and says that for Jason’s spring break the two of them should take a trip there together. They could go see some plays or the royal ballet or even visit some of the castles. Jason is a little stunned at the idea but is very excited. He asks if Alfred ever took Bruce or Dick.

Alfred says that neither of them had a particular interest in some of the things he did, but that they took other trips together. Jason ask if he’ll get to meet some of Alfred’s friends from the service or if he can see where Alfred went to school or any one of a hundred other questions.

Jason’s nervous when it’s finally time to go to England but Alfred tells him Bruce offered to drop them off in the batplane so they wouldn’t have to take public transit. It’s also so Bruce can say goodbye at the absolute last minute. Because it’s only a week, but Jason’s only been with him about a year and been formally adopted less than half that time.

So Alfred shows him as much as he can. They go to the theater and Alfred takes Jason to his favorite play. They go to the ballet together, visit some castles, it’s peaceful in a way Gotham isn’t. And for how used to the city Jason is, Alfred brings him down to a steadier pace.

They have a lot of fun and Jason only ignores directions once on account of not being able to hear him too well when they’re taking the tube in London, which is easily forgiven.

Jason asks Alfred about other holidays he took in Europe, or the other countries he’s traveled to. It’s when Jason himself really begins to open up about his life on the streets or living with Willis or Catherine. Alfred is sharing so many stories with him that Jason slowly starts to reciprocate.

Alfred introduces Jason to two of his old friends, one who owns a pub and tries to let Jason have a sip of beer and the other whose wife runs a shop that Jason picks out souvenirs for Bruce and Dick from.

When it’s time for Bruce to come pick them up, Jason asks if they’ll come back. Not on all of Alfred’s vacations, but on shorter ones together. Alfred says he would be delighted to do so.