The way fans on the st sub are almost all in agreement Nancy ending up with neither Jon nor Steve wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, and how they can even come up with a sleuth of reasons as to why, honestly pretty valid and fair reasons, but then are absolutely gobsmacked when fans merely speculate something along those lines for El is, quite something.
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“Inaccessibility has a massive impact on disabled people, especially people with mobility issues and those who use aids like canes, walkers, wheelchairs, service animals, etc. and these things are often ignored and should not be and you are right to be angry about it.”
And
“Even within the disabled community, there is a disgusting amount of dismissal and yes, ableism directed at people who have needs related to mental illness/mental disorders- to the point that other disabled people will refer to those of us with invisible disabilities, chronic illness, and mental disorders as abled and tell us that our needs are lesser and that is not okay.”
Are statements that must co-exist.
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Hot take: The lack of Lilya in a suit action…is not right
There I said it
Cry about it, cuz I’m also going to cry with you, but it’s because I’ve never seen a single piece of fanart like this so far
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Wildest thing supernatural ever pulled was the “two prophets can’t exist on earth at once” thing cause it results in a malformed prophet and..something something balance of the universe..something like that..I can’t remember. Like..what do you mean we can’t just have a cool prophet duo? We just deserved more prophets in general! They were so interesting and had layers to them,their whole entire concept was so cool to see and yet we saw so little of them in a sense. I just wish they were utilized a biiit more.
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Pink Friday 2 sounds like what Beam Up Scotty Nicki would release as a throw away ep…. Like she’s not hungry to actually be the best she’s just trying to fight the others girls off and rest on her laurels
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Yknow one thing I hate to do is compare mechas given they’re all pretty different even putting the clear influence a lot have on each other aside and I don’t like the idea that I’ve seen a lot of mecha fans subscribe to where “if you like this one show you HAVE to like these other ones” but this is less of a comparison thing especially because I’m not petty or anything since it’s just something I thought about:
Mazinger v Getter when it comes to their recognition tends to boggle my mind a bit. Since it feels like there are more dedicated Getter fans around that talk about it than Mazinger fans, but Mazinger is more recognizable to the point it gets more funded stuff than Getter.
I was thinking about this when I was watching Mazinkaiser, and I can’t confirm this but I found it interesting that it almost (felt) like this ova spawned out of Getter making a comeback before Mazinger did, since Armageddon came before and was massive hit, than was followed up with a game + shin vs neo by the time Mazinkaiser was made. Like they even got Armas art director to work on it and the studio doing it was Brains Base who made the getter OVAs.
And in terms of recently all the stuff with Grendizer, which I know was SUPPOSED to get another an anime way before this, is now finally getting something coincidentally after Getter Robo Arc. And everyone is already pointing out between the two Grendizer looks waaay better then Arc so it’s clear it has more money put into it, yet I wonder if Arc didn’t happen if they would bother to touch Grendizer since Arc was them also finally giving the Getter team who NEVER got to be in a anime- well, a anime. And now the most neglected pilot apart of Mazingers universe is getting his own show.
I understand why Mazinger is more known and funded since it was the first self piloted mecha and something Go Nagai, a man who arguably changed the industry a lot, made so his works are always gonna be rebooted for the sake of memory, where as Getter sorta lives in Nagai’s shadow sadly even if Ishikawa memory is respected, but I feel like almost Getter is the one to test if things will work and then they’ll see if they can do stuff with Mazinger again.
Or maybe it’s just two coincidences and we’re just going through a long coming mecha renaissance of older properties of the genre, but I’m still rotating it heavily.
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((…Y’know there are SO many issues with Hien and the writing surrounding him
But uh
“Why didn’t he just give the amnesiac woman to the FUCKING GARLEAN EMPIRE” is not one of them wtf))
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Bleh I know that everyone is busy today with like their families and loves and shit so giving me attention isn’t really the top of the priority list but fuck…. I wish no much I were at the top of someone’s priority list. Like genuinely not “I’m gonna tell you you’re the most important person in my life every day until something catastrophic happens that permanently damages the fuck out of you and I have to step up and make difficult choices for your care then I’m telling you you rank more like 6 or 7 in my list of priorities but I will still tell you you’re my favorite while I actively fucking abandon you.”
Can still hear my fathers voice ringing in my head telling me that no matter how much I give, no matter how much I try, I will never be the first priority in someone’s life. Everyone will always have somebody or some obligation that means more to them than I do. And unfortunately as it were uhhhhhhh that’s never exactly been disproven.
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progress report: ive worked through 1/3 of the saints and there are definitely things happening rn. i’ve got 4/5 saints figured out but this last one is killing me bc the visual is so minimal. reading through saint symbolism for over 100 saints to try and find the right one when you can’t guarantee anything other than the book is So
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Someone ordered 12 dozen donuts. For a wedding.
Pray for me.
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you probably saw it already but that doesnt stop me from spreading awareness #AwarenessCenter
NOT TO MENTION THEY PLAGIARIZED OTHERS TOO?? get a job, akuma
KEIIIII LFMAOAOOOOO, no actually ?? they took from a lot of people within this app, that’s insane
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If I had a nickel for every time a straight woman drunkenly and uncomfortably came onto me in a very sexual way (not at a club/bar), I’d have two nickels.
Which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice, right?
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Wingman ain’t subtle.
Paring: Gojo Satoru x reader
Note ₊˚⊹♡ : This takes place when Gojo and the rest are students and you are one year senior/older than them
Gojo thinks today is a bad day.
“y/n-senpai apparently only dates guys older than her” Shoko says she sucks the drink from the straw. As much as she’d like to be smoking, it wasn’t allowed on campus.
The lollipop in Gojo’s mouth falls to the ground which makes Geto snort.
“Sucks to you Satoru.” He comments. “If only you were born a year or two before you’d have a chance.”
Gojo winches as he looks over to Shoko with eyes pleading that she was lying “For real?”
“Yeah.” Shoko and you shared being gifted with Reverse Cursed Technique so they’d spend a lot of time training together so the two were close.
Ever since he learned that fact, Gojo had Shoko be his wing man on learning to be and also learn about your type. She was hesitant at fist but oh boy! Gojo was so hopelessly in love with you she kinda felt bad. Shoko adds. “She thinks older guy make her feel protected.”
Gojo huffs, his stomach churns with jealousy. “I’m literally the strongest…” who else would you need to feel protected?
To add on the fact that learning about him having no chance with you because of the year he was born — ‘Satoru was spawn killed.’ Geto would add— he and his classmates had forgotten to put up a veil during a mission which triggered Yaga’s, their teacher in charge, wrath.
Yaga takes in a deep breath“How many times do I have to tell you to put up a veil ?!”
Gojo really couldn’t careless as his teacher yaps away and probably neither did both of his two friends. He could see Geto nod at times as if acting like he was taking Yaga’s word to heart and with Shoko dozing off with her eyes open.
He does his best to fight back a yawn as something suddenly grabs his attention. You. His eyes trail to you ,who was a year senior to him, walking along the hallway, revealed by the long strip of windows between the classroom and hall. Gojo thinks you’re the loveliest piece of existence in the planet as you gently tug a piece of hair behind as you talk with Utahime.
Feeling a piercing gaze — or maybe it was Yaga’s shouts— you look over inside the class as meet your eyes with beautiful vibrant blue ones of your junior, Gojo Satoru’s.
When you give him a smile and a small wave, you weren’t expecting him to straight up beam at your direction and full on wave as if a kid would wave at an airplane passing by.
Of course this angered Yaga further as a nerve pops on his forehead and hands clenched. “Pay attention, Satoru!” He swings his fist at the boy.
The impact of his teacher’s fist on him sends him flying. If he weren’t such a good student he would have actually used his limitless to block such hits but alas— it may not look like it but he was. “Sensei—! Hitting your students should be against the law.”
He sees Geto sent him an amused smirk and Shoko,who finally woke up, trying to figure out what was happening and to his horror, you were giggling at him. Not many things can make Gojo feel embarrassed but his crush laughing at him when he got hit was one of it.
Yup-! That’s exactly what he needed; his crushing laughing as he gets beat up and lectured by his teacher. His day was going fan-tas-tic!
The day goes on with with the remaining classes. Evening classes were usually training so Shoko was in infirmary with Gojo and Geto on the training grounds but one thing bother Gojo was that the ‘hit’ from Yaga earlier did leave an impact. The back of his head a aching and even made him jump when Geto applied the slightest bit of pressure.
Call him dramatic but he didn’t want the ache to go on further so there he was on his way to the infirmary. He really needed Shoko to patch him up.
He slides the door open as he starts to complain. “Shoko heal me up. Yaga’s hit really did some damage on me”
“You’re hurt?”
Hearing a voice which wasn’t Shoko’s and with almost a magic like ability to make his heart race grabbed his attention. He turns to see you who was near the storage cabinet as if you were arranging something.
“I- uhh…” Suddenly his throat constricted and he couldn’t speak. His face heats up as you tilt your head waiting for an answer as he clears his throat. “Just a bit, y/n.”
“Shoko is out though. She got called to assist in a mission. ” You smile as you sit on a near by chair, pulling another chair beside.
You smile at him as you pat the chair beside yours indicating him to sit down there which makes him tense up slightly but he does as told. “Also you should be calling me ‘senpai’. Utahime-senpai was complaining that youth these days have no manner.”
You laugh. “Now tell me where you’re hurt.”
He sits beside you as he tilts his head and points at his sore spot. “Here.”
Gojo watches you raise your hand and inspect his heat, the places where your fingers grazes heats up which makes him gulp deeply. You laugh as you see a swelling on his head. “Wow- Sensei really did hit you hard…”
The white haired boy relaxes as he he feels the calming sensation on his head which means you were using your technique of healing him. “Does age really matter that much?”
You hum as if thinking through your answer. “Of course. Even a year older means you’ve been in this world for a year longer. That in itself is commendable enough.”
“I heard from Shoko that you like guys older…” Gojo says no longer trying to contain the jealousy in his voice. “Is it because of the same reason?”
Gojo watches your eyes widen and blink in confusion; he thinks any expression you make is so so adorable. You then proceed to giggle. “Just because I dated people who are older than me doesn’t mean I have a type.”
Damn that Shoko probably messed around with her wording. Gojo curses as the girl made it seem you would only date guys older than her.
“For example…” You hum as you bring your finger up to your lips. “Right now I like a guy who is younger than me who never respects his elder.”
Hearing her words, every restrain in his body breaks free and Gojo stands up from his seat ; before he knows it his lips are on yours. He hold your face in place, cupping both side of his cheeks.
Gojo kisses you. Your lips are softer than he imagined it to be and when you let out a small moan he deepens it, stronger and desperate as if trying to memorize every inch of you.
He brings one of his hands to the back of your head, as he runs his hands through your hair. His lips keep moving as if he had lost his mind; deep and urgent as if he couldn’t waste a single second.
Out of breath, he pulls away and looks at you who was breathing heavily and lips slightly plump from his desperate tugs and bites. He watches the same lips curl into a smile as you give him a teasing smile. “Also tell Shoko to quit being your wing man,Satoru. She isn’t quite subtle about it.”
Check out more of my work here !! <3
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May I say just Tyler pulling you close to him while you’re staying safe from a tornado hmmm
A lil protective moment with him is all I want 🫠🫠. Ask and you shall receive, my dear.
Pairing; Tyler Owen’s x reader
Word count; 1.2k (I got carried away just a little)
cw; tornadoes, rodeos, idk what else? FLUFFF AND a sprinkle of angst.
“Is this how they do it in Texas too?”
You looked up at the man beside you, his green eyes stilled on you. You were focusing on the rodeo he’d brought you to, men out on horses and bulls, taming the wild animals, riding their fears.
You looked back Tyler, he was still focused on you and not on the game. Heat rose to your cheeks, turning them into a red mess as you rubbed your hands nervously on the fat of your thighs. It was too hot to wear anything but jean shorts and a tank.
“Pretty much, not different from how they originally used to do back in the early days actually. But Texans have their pride.” You didn’t really have the accent to be taken as someone from Houston, but the badges- fabric patches with Velcro- you wore on your jeans at all times were evident enough of how proud you were to be from Texas.
The man chuckled, his eyes getting just a little smaller as crinkles formed around them, his cheeks lifting forming into a beautiful smile on his lips.
“Well ain’t that the right way to do it”
You both laughed, turning back to the rodeo. You tried to get a little bit comfortable in your seat, adjusting yourself before deciding to just sit a little bit straighter. Your hands reach for the arm rests, expecting the cold metal to make contact, but it never happens, instead your met with a warm, calloused palm of Tyler’s. He’s a little surprised at first, you both are, he slowly gathers the courage and weaves his hand through yours, helping you adjust.
You keep a hold of his hand, looking at him wide eyed and he’d say you look like a deer caught in headlights but that won’t do the justice to how beautiful your eyes look right now. The way sweat glistened on your body, your lips parted and slightly heavy breath of yours that fans his face. You’re mere inches away but it feels too far to him. He needs to feel you, feel those lips on his, caress your soft skin under his rough hands an-
A loud siren buzzes through the arena snapping the two of you out of it. A tornado siren. You felt the continuous buzz of the alert through your jeans, looking back at Tyler with the same look in your eyes.
We gotta get out of here.
And so, in a very calm yet hasty manner, you and Tyler take off. Calmly brushing past the crowd and scared civilians to get to his truck. It might not be enough to stay in there but you may have enough time to get somewhere safe.
Think think think, where is safe? And suddenly it hits you.
Your hands are still attached, his hand squeezing yours a little too tight when he feels like you might get swallowed by the rushing crowd.
“I got it!”
You finally get to his truck, quickly getting in and driving.
Tyler is scared, but the way a smile forms at your lips, he almost forgets you’re in the middle of fucking life and death.
“You got somewhere close?”
You nod, giving him the directions as he hits the gas on full. It’s an old bunker you found literally yesterday when you came out to explore the town. Trying to figure out places that could be safe for the people to evacuate to. It is small, enough to fit around two or three people and you hope it’s not jammed up for the two of you to seek shelter.
The tornado is not far behind. Gaining speed and strength as it chases the two of you. You’re not ready, this was not in the plan and you’re certain that today is not the day you’ll die. Not when you’ve just stared to get to know him.
Tyler strategically positions his car, activating the drills as the two of you exit, running towards the patch of metal in the middle of the farm field.
He gets to it first, letting go of your hand mid sprint to open it up for you. Letting you climb down before getting in, the metal trap door a little too heavy with the winds and rain for him to completely shut it. So he leaves it open, letting the cold rain pour down into the bullet as he reaches for you.
You’re holding onto the pipelines, not having it in you to move further because of the wind. You feel his hand on your waist, holding onto you for dear life as your grip on the pipes tightens. One hand holding onto you and the other onto the pipe right above you, Tyler grounds himself on the floor. His feet turned soon as he tried not to move. Your hand comes up to where his rests on your waist, clutching it tighter before he pulls you even closer, chest to back.
You can feel his heart pounding, like your own, against your back. You’re both heaving. Your heavy breathes turning into calmer ones as your eyes closed, trying to breathe in his scent, feeling the way his arm feels around you. Thinking about anything but the giant tornado above your head. The smell of him engulfs you and you find yourself thinking and wanting to feel is him, him, him, him.
It’s enough. The sheer skin to skin contact, the smell of your hair right under his nose, the feel of his hot breath on your neck. It sends shivers down both of your spines and in no time the sky clears and the wind and rain passes over. The tornado moved or completely died, you’re not sure.
But you’re sure about the man that is still latched to you. Holding onto for dear life. The way he’s nuzzling his nose into your hair, his lips brushing against your scalp and leaving tiny kisses you can barely make out.
“It’s gone” your voice is nothing but a whisper. You turn in his arms, his hand still attached to your waist as you look up at him through wet lashes.
He has this wild look in his eyes, concern, fear, and love all moulded into one. You feel them dart to your lips, and back to your eyes before his other hand comes up to brush some hair from your face.
“Thank you for that” he whispers, “if you hadn’t known about this place, I’d probably be dead”
You give him a smile, squeezing his arm before snaking your way out of his grasp.he reluctantly lets go of you, wanting to keep contact with your soft skin and that close proximity that kept you warm. But he lets you go, you’re shaken, just a little bit. This wasn’t your first tornado, but god it felt like you both were about to die there.
He helps you get back up, climbing up the ladder just behind you.
The walk back to the truck is quiet, you’re only half an arm length away from him but it feels too far.
He opened the door to the passenger seat, letting you in before getting into the drivers seat himself. Letting out a long breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in before deciding to break the silence.
“So, you know anymore rodeos that end like that?”
A/n; The ending feels rushed, idk? I hope you liked it!! Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated, lovies🫶🏻🫶🏻.
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⟁ A BULLET A DAY, ft. BOOTHILL.
⠀ — where teasing, annoying, poking and prodding all fall under the same category; flirting.
⚠︎︎ more mechanic! reader, gn, boothill being an idiot, flirting, suggestive, he has fake teeth to me, something about tension + leaving him high and dry is soooo ….
from this request !
it’s a miracle, truly, how boothill manages to be so tempting and endearing yet so utterly irritating and infuriating at the same time.
and it’s hot, sure, but that just makes it all the more annoying, leaves you frustrated and with an odd pool in your stomach.
boothill managed his way into your supply of bullets, happily tossing back the brass casings like a simple snack. it was a genius idea at the time, really, giving him a stomach that can store ammunition. though had you expected him to chew on the damn things instead of swallowing them— you know, like he was intended to— you would’ve just given him a little side bag to save yourself the work.
you half hoped the lead stuffing the things would seep into his still intact brain, but chastised yourself for the thought soon after having it. you don’t hate him that much. your brain should check back and try the thought again in twenty minutes.
“y’know what’d be real neat, buttercup?” boothill’s legs were kicked up lazily on your workbench as he sat next to you, waiting for you to finish a small modification on his revolver. “spikes in my boots.” he lifted a foot up, rolling his ankle a bit. “you know, them retractable ones. be able t’a have some real fun with those things.”
you snorted, his efforts to dodge his synesthesia beacon as entertaining as always.
“since when do i take requests?” you asked, eyes focused down on your work— far too used to his antics to lift your head anymore.
“since when d’you deny gettin’ to tinker with me?”
he brought his feet down to the floor and leaned forward on his thighs, the denim of his pants tightening around them. “what, gonna make me say please and thank ya now?”
you truly wanted to reply, say it wasn’t a half bad idea and that you’d look into the upgrade. until he started shaking a few bullets around in his palm like they were fucking almonds.
now boothill noticed the clench of your jaw, and oh how he revelled in it. he’s fully aware how the crunching of brass and lead peeves you, ie. you telling him to knock it off an hour ago— (“it ain’t hurtin’ nobody, is it now?”—) but you’re just so darn cute when you’re ticked off. he’s gotta push your buttons just a lil bit.
“somethin’ the matter?” the way his sharp teeth gleamed through that damn grin weren’t doing anything to help.
he took a bullet between his thumb and forefinger, the shiny gunmetal digits pinching the ammunition as he held it up next to you. “d’ya care for one, sugar plum?”
fine, you thought. two can play that game.
you tore your attention away from the old steel revolver, finally turning to look at him. boothill prepared for an insult, one he’d tell you was ‘flatterin’ and all,’ but it didn’t come.
you leaned towards his hand, keeping your eyes locked with his that glowed a familiar and faint red.
then you took the bullet between your tongue and top front teeth, gently pulling it out of his hands with your mouth.
his smirk actually dropped— you’d think someone stuck an infected usb into his ear with all the ideas that flooded the forefront of his brain, making his circuits just tingle with excitement. something about the hot single mechanic in his area.
you turned back to your desk, removing the bullet from your teeth and twirling it between your fingers idly as you gave a once over to his revolver, as if nothing had happened.
boothill blinked, chuckling gruffly with a shake of his head as he slumped back in his chair, flicking another bullet into the air with his thumb and catching it in his palm with a gentle clink! the cyborg gave a low whistle as he kicked his feet back up.
“ain’t you somethin’,” he drawled, earning a chuckle from you. “y’sure know how t’keep a man on his toes, don’t ya buttercup?”
“i dunno what you mean, boothill.” you only offered a hum, willfully ignorant to boothill’s colourful imagination.
“oh i’m real sure y’don’t.” he shook his head, another chuckle rumbling his chest and sending a shiver down your neck.
“say,” he leaned towards you, his shoulder to yours, feeling a little lucky and dropping his voice to a knee-weakening purr, “if that pretty mouth a’yers likes metal, i’m more’en happy t’a—”
“all done.”
all bets go down the drain. boothill deadpanned as you clicked the barrel of his gun into place and handed it back to him, standing up to stretch your arms.
“shops closed for today,” you fold them, leaning back against your bench. “you better get a move on before i have to kick you out.”
boothill’s eyes trailed up your figure, taking his sweet time finding your face. the cowboy raised an eyebrow into a cocky arch despite him swearing his body was on the verge of its cooling protocol.
“you keep woundin’ me, sugar.”
“i dunno what you mean, boothill.”
⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?
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