#actually no. i’m not sorry

[vveakfish]

str8 boy yaoi (colorized, 2023) | [prev] • [next]

[youthofpandas]

What’s up with how the dunmeshi fandom just lies about this kind of stuff all the time. It is easily confirmable information that it was a monthly series, something incredibly common in the industry.

A not weekly magazine schedule is literally common !! Especially in the seinen shoujo and josei demographics, sometimes monthly, sometimes biweekly, sometimes every two months, sometimes seasonal! Please stop lying about how Dunmeshi was some special unique creation that defies all standards of manga just to hype it up because it is so clear that every single one of these comparisons is centered around Weekly Shonen Jump (and understand that SJ has many magazines under its brand that are monthly or semimonthly). Not everything is WSJ and it needs to stop being the only point of reference in conversations like this 🤧

[allagashed]

whenever i say “screaming crying throwing up” this is what i mean

[littlemizzlinguistics]

Studying linguistics is actually so wonderful because when you explain youth slang to older professors, instead of complaining about how "your generation can't speak right/ you're butchering the language" they light up and go “really? That’s so wonderful! What an innovative construction! Isn't language wonderful?"

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Monty and TADC Gummigoo are so alike!

[incandescent-mushroom]

House has definitely sent Wilson a dick pic or several but he sends them by email because they are both old men and the titles are things like ‘URGENT: please identify if lung cancer’ or ‘patient biopsy results - respond ASAP’ so that Wilson’s guilt complex makes him feel obligated to open each one just in case someone’s life is actually on the line

[lilislegacy]

percy: *intensely watching the news, waiting to hear about something he may have caused*

piper: come on percy, come eat with us. you’ve been sitting there waiting for hours. if something happens, you’ll hear about it eventually. a watched pot never boils

percy, distractedly: yeah and an ignored one boils over

piper: that-

piper, turning to annabeth in confusion: have i been spending too much time with him or is that one of the most logical things i’ve ever heard someone say?

[wispscribbles]

I love your ghost design. I wanna squeeze him :⁠^⁠)

If no hug then why hug-shaped???

[soaked-doors]

pov the reaper that’s dragging away your boyfriends soul says something so freedomphobic you hit his corpse with the nika stare

[feyburner]

Concept: The Gotham Citizen app has a forum for posting candid photos of vigilantes and there’s an ongoing phenomenon where photos of Tim are impossibly gorgeous no matter the angle and photos of Dick (one of the most beautiful people in the entire world) look like when you take high-speed photos of Olympic athletes mid-sport

[sharkbaitouhaha]

hello and good morning to my new favourite article headline. i need this game injected directly into my veins, i cannot wait any longer

[st4ngray]

Haven’t finished the game yet did this happen

[percabethownsmybutt]

annabeth, screaming at percy mid battle: haec est culpa tua!

percy, sighing: yeah i know

grover: when did you learn latin?

percy: i didn't. i just know the phrase "this is all your fault" in every language annabeth speaks

[peridyke]

my roommate told me to clip this sgt frog bit that we were losing it over so here you go

[certifiablyinsanez]

I am haunted by the detailed, completed map of Hell that Edwin took notes on. You don’t understand, it makes me sick. It’s one thing to have a basic layout, a vague idea, or a rudimentary map but it was meticulously detailed. Down to doors and what they do and where they go. Down to secret spaces in the walls. He even knew what ringing an innocuous bell would do. It can only mean one thing. We don’t know when Edwin began trying to escape, but assuming he started from the get go, it means that he spent all his decades in Hell trying to find a way out. He never stopped running. And that is assuming he never stopped. From his second trip, we could see he resorted to his old ways and ran. But he was eventually caught, reduced to pieces. Even when Charles showed up, he didn’t seem very optimistic about their chances. He could feel every second of those 70 years. There were likely many times he fell to hopelessness, trembling in the corner watching himself be desecrated knowing it was going to happen again and again. How long? How many times did he try to be so, so quiet, hoping he would have a few moments before the next round? How many times did he muster the ability to run, just one more time? How long did it take him to run, discovering the ends of each ring? How many times did he sprint up, down, north, south, east, west, trying to escape? And what happened when he finally escaped? How long did it take for him to be able to relax, even a little? Because he can never relax. He must always outrun Death and her constituents because he can’t count on them to be fair. How many times does he look over his shoulder, waiting for the monster to claim its eternal meal once again? His breath of fresh air, his first taste of companionship in ages not only keeps him company, but sticks by him. And then, in that blessing there comes a curse, because now you have something to lose. Because when you taste ambrosia how can you return to starvation? He feels safe with Charles. Happy and comfortable, but the threat always lingers. And he knows that Charles couldn’t fend off Death. He never considered he could fend off Hell beasts; after all, he’s just a ghost kid. He watches innocents be slaughtered on repeat, unphased by the level of violence but no less affected by it, because no one has even a clue what it takes to be this kind. Even at his most happy, he has so, so much to lose and he goes back to Hell when hope was dangled in his face like the fruit of Tantalus. When he returns, he’s subjected to Hell once again, sustaining through torture that obliterates souls, only to watch his best friend, his confidant, his platonic soulmate, die horrifically. This woman who gave him sea-glass courage, so powerful and yet so fragile. Allowed him to be himself, gave him permission to do so. Was the openness to his closed self, and now she is gone. And he retains his composure, his stiff, British posture because it is what has saved him from madness and Despair, protected him, and now the world is darker without Niko Sasaki in it. But surely he saw this coming. After all, humans are messy. And yet, he shows up for their souls, time and time again.

Edwin Payne is THE character.

[chloesimaginationthings]

William Afton has top tier FNAF parenting skills