but if i can swing it

Does Hillary Get It?

Does Hillary Clinton understand that the biggest divide in American politics is no longer between the right and the left, but between the anti-establishment and the establishment?

I worry she doesn’t – at least not yet.  

A Democratic operative I’ve known since the Bill Clinton administration told me “now that she’s won the nomination, Hillary is moving to the middle. She’s going after moderate swing voters.”

Presumably that’s why she tapped Tim Kaine to be her vice president. Kaine is as vanilla middle as you can get.

In fairness, Hillary is only doing what she knows best. Moving to the putative center is what Bill Clinton did after the Democrats lost the House and Senate in 1994 – signing legislation on welfare reform, crime, trade, and financial deregulation that enabled him to win reelection in 1996 and declare “the era of big government” over.

In those days a general election was like a competition between two hot-dog vendors on a boardwalk extending from right to left. Each had to move to the middle to maximize sales. (If one strayed too far left or right, the other would move beside him and take all sales on rest of the boardwalk.)

But this view is outdated. Nowadays, it’s the boardwalk versus the private jets on their way to the Hamptons. 

The most powerful force in American politics today is anti-establishment fury at a system rigged by big corporations, Wall Street, and the super-wealthy.

This is a big reason why Donald Trump won the Republican nomination. It’s also why Bernie Sanders took 22 states in the Democratic primaries, including a majority of Democratic primary voters under age 45.

There are no longer “moderates.”  There’s no longer a “center.” There’s authoritarian populism (Trump) or democratic populism (which had been Bernie’s “political revolution,” and is now up for grabs). 

And then there’s the Republican establishment (now scattered to the winds), and the Democratic establishment.

If Hillary Clinton and the Democratic Party don’t recognize this realignment, they’re in for a rude shock – as, I’m afraid, is the nation. Because Donald Trump does recognize it. His authoritarian (“I’ am your voice”) populism is premised on it.

“In five, ten years from now,” Trump says, “you’re going to have a worker’s party. A party of people that haven’t had a real wage increase in 18 years, that are angry.”

Speaking at a factory in Pennsylvania in June, he decried politicians and financiers who had betrayed Americans by “taking away from the people their means of making a living and supporting their families.”

Worries about free trade used to be confined to the political left. Now, according to the Pew Research Center, people who say free-trade deals are bad for America are more likely to lean Republican.

The problem isn’t trade itself. It’s a political-economic system that won’t cushion working people against trade’s downsides or share trade’s upsides. In other words, a system that’s rigged.

Most basically, the anti-establishment wants big money out of politics. This was the premise of Bernie Sanders’s campaign. It’s also been central to Donald (“I’m so rich I can’t be bought off”) Trump’s appeal, although he’s now trolling for big money.

A recent YouGov/Economist poll found that 80 percent of GOP primary voters who preferred Donald Trump as the nominee listed money in politics as an important issue, and a Bloomberg Politics poll shows a similar percentage of Republicans opposed to the Supreme Court’s 2010 Citizens United v. FEC decision.

Getting big money out of politics is of growing importance to voters in both major parties. A June New York Times/CBS News poll showed that 84 percent of Democrats and 81 percent of Republicans want to fundamentally change or completely rebuild our campaign finance system.

Last January, a DeMoines Register poll of likely Iowa caucus-goers found 91 percent of Republicans and 94 percent of Democrats unsatisfied or “mad as hell” about money in politics. 

Hillary Clinton doesn’t need to move toward the “middle.” In fact, such a move could hurt her if it’s perceived to be compromising the stances she took in the primaries in order to be more acceptable to Democratic movers and shakers.

She needs to move instead toward the anti-establishment – forcefully committing herself to getting big money out of politics, and making the system work for the many rather than a privileged few.

She must make clear Donald Trump’s authoritarian populism is a dangerous gambit, and the best way to end crony capitalism and make America work for the many is to strengthen American democracy.

anonymous asked:

Can you do a jealous waverly fic?

Waverly leans on the hood of a car just outside the newly renovated Shorty’s with a beer bottle in one hand. She stares up at the star-lit sky and wonders why her emotions can’t just be normal, just once in her life. The door to Shorty’s swings open, and Nicole joins her. For a moment, there is silence, but she knows the question is coming.

Nicole doesn’t disappoint. “Why are you out here in the cold, instead of in there having fun?”

“I just needed some air.”

“Is this…” Nicole hesitates, licks her lips, and tries again. “Is this about Champ being all over that girl?”

“It’s so stupid,” Waverly explodes. “I’m with you. I love you. Why do my dumb emotions give two shits if he’s with someone new?”

“You were with him for a long time.”

“Yeah, and we both know he’s a total asshole. I don’t want to date him–most of the time, I don’t even want to hear his name.” She sets her beer bottle on the hood and rubs her eyes.

“But he was also one of the few people who cared about you, rather than your last name,” Nicole offers. She rubs Waverly’s shoulder. “Sometimes it’s hard to let that go.”

“I’m over him.”

“I know, baby.”

Waverly gazes at Nicole and manages a weak smile. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Too bad. You’ve got me.”

It's Still Raining. Part 1. A Bam Brown story.


There wasn’t much you could say or do to make the pain go away. Bam was gone and based on his last words to you, he was never coming back. You stood quietly at the edge of the water, facing the laughing waves that seemed to openly mock your pain.

When your mind refused to settle down and continued to swing back to the last few tense minutes spent with Bam, you finally shook your head sharply and let yourself get mad. The anger was a welcome relief from the hurt and confusion and it felt good. The anger rose up strongly in you and to your surprise, it felt so right. You stomped your booted foot hard on the muddy ground and began trudging resolutely back toward Browntown.

“This can’t be the end.”

You muttered under your breath as your right hand absently rubbed against the hard cast plastered around your left wrist.

“I won’t let this be the end.”


You hadn’t been able to pinpoint one specific thing that attracted you to Bam Brown. There so many things about him that made you want to get to know him. The first thing you had noticed about him was his confident walk. He was moving slowly down the empty street, one hand stuffed into his front jeans pocket and the other was swung back over his shoulder, holding a black cloth jacket by one finger.

He walked purposefully with a light frown on his forehead. But even that frown didn’t take away from the next thing you noticed which was how handsome he was. The morning sunlight glittered brightly off of the lens of his dark sunglasses. As he came closer, you shifted your eyes away suddenly, realizing he might be looking at you and with those black lenses you would never know.

But he wasn’t looking at you. And over the next few days as you saw him around town, he never looked at you even once. You begin to sit in your same spot at the outside table of the coffee shop and wait for him to walk by every day. Your eyes became so trained to the sound of his footfalls and his slim silhouette that you were able to spot him from a little further away each time. The first day you saw his smile, you knew you were in love with him. It was stupid, you knew. He wasn’t even smiling at you. This was a man you had never met or spoken to, but for some reason, you couldn’t get him out of your mind.

A couple of weeks passed and you learned everything you could about him and your head was filled with stories and information you had gleaned from friends and neighbors. He was thirty-one years old, unmarried, was into women and loved poetry, played the violin and had a bit of a sharp tongue when he was ticked off.

Sitting once again at your usual table on the shady side of the street, you checked your watch again. You were right on time and Bam should be passing by within the next 30 to 45 minutes. Glancing up and training your eyes on the end of the street, your eyes widened. Bam was early. He always walked by between 8:30 and 9:00am, but here it was only 8:00am and yet there he was, stomping angrily down the street toward the small store he always stopped at. You hadn’t yet found out what he bought at that store every day. Part of you assumed he smoked and he was buying cigarettes. You tried to lean in and sniff him every time he walked by but you never smelled anything but a light cologne scent on him.

You quickly clicked off your phone so he wouldn’t see your “Bam list” as you called it. It was the notepad on your phone where you kept all your notes about Bam that you had so carefully cultivated over the past few weeks. The word “stalker” always seemed to jump to the front of your mind when you looked at that list. But you pushed that thought away and reminded yourself of your promise that if you ever spoke to Bam and he let you know he wasn’t interested, then you would walk away and leave him alone and delete every single item on your “Bam list.” You wanted to be a part of his life. But only if he wanted that, too. 

Normally, when Bam would walk by, you would lift your head and offer him a slight smile. And every time he would stare straight ahead without looking to the right or the left and certainly not looking at you. This day however, you had a plan. Too many days had gone by with him walking right past you and you were tired of waiting for him to notice you. So just as Bam stepped past you, his black leather boots clunking heavily on the pavement, you slid both your legs out and toward him. The move was obvious and Bam watched as you quickly crossed your feet at the ankles and waited for him to “trip” over your extended legs.

“Seriously?” Bam stopped in his tracks and looked down at your feet then up at you. “You were going to trip me?” His deep voice washed over you like a lion’s purr.

“Ummm. Yes?” You couldn’t seem to come up with a suitable lie so you settled on the truth.

“Why?” He asked with narrowed eyes.

You pulled your feet back toward you and keeping your eyes on his, you pushed your coffee cup further away on the table and stood up to face him. You swallowed down the hard lump that of nervousness that suddenly threatened to close off your throat. Bam was clearly madder than you had ever seen him, but standing eye to eye with him, seeing the lift of his soft lips as he spoke, you didn’t care. He had been the first thing on your mind every morning and the last thing on your mind every night for weeks. You had been close enough to touch him almost every day. So, even if he told you to go away and leave him alone, you had to take the chance. You had to know.

Taking one step closer to Bam, you met his gaze and spoke softly. “I’ve been wanting to meet you but you’ve always seemed so focused on where you were going.”

“So you decided to trip me?” Bam repeated with a lift of his brows.

“Yes.” You answered with a lift of your own brows. “And look. It worked. We’re talking.” You smiled and shrugged your shoulders, waiting for Bam’s reply.

“You are insane.” Bam grumbled and walked away stiffly, not looking back.

Sitting back down in the hard backed wooden chair, you refused to cry. You had hoped he would laugh with you over your silly attempt to get his attention. You had hoped he would say you were funny and cute and that he would sit down and join you for a cup of coffee. But none of that happened. You couldn’t believe how quickly it was over. All your thoughts of meeting Bam and possibly getting to know him and becoming someone special to him, were all gone in an instant.

Pulling out your phone, you opened the app that held your lengthy “Bam list.” Your eye scanned all the information you had learned about him and as you looked at the list one last time, you suddenly felt incredibly stupid. So much of your time had been spent on someone who had his own life and his own dreams, none of which included you. Swiping your finger from right to left, you deleted the page without another thought.

You slid your dark sunglasses over your eyes. Now that you knew how he felt, you were determined to honor your promise to leave him alone. But if you thought shutting Bam out of your heart would be quick and painless, you were dead wrong. Eyes hidden behind your dark glasses, you blinked away the tears Bam would never see or know about. You lifted the now cold cup of coffee with a slightly shaking hand and took a sip of the liquid that tasted like dust.


*To be continued.*

anonymous asked:

Can you do something with Ichiruki and "Are you flirting with me?” Thank you!

This is an excerpt from Bleach HP AU. 

“Be careful!” he yells at her over the din of war below them; she dodges a green light streaking at her by momentarily leaping off her broom and swinging underneath it with a single hand, and Ichigo’s heart drops in his chest. “For the love of Merlin, Rukia—“

He evades several bright flashes of light himself, and sends out a few in retaliation; he sees Rukia roll over mid-air to narrowly avoid another curse and swears out loud. “Goddammit, Rukia, will you please watch out—“

“Are you flirting with me?” she yells back, mirth evident in her voice, maneuvering her broom with an ease born from years of practice. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you so worried about me—“

“We’re fighting a fucking war!” he retorts, a protego flaring around both of them; she arches an amused brow at him before shooting off again, and Ichigo bites back a profanity. He wishes he could keep her tethered to him; he wishes she would let him protect her.

(He suspects, however, that he wouldn’t love her half so much if she wasn’t like this in the first place.)

“Relax, Ichigo!” she says, and blocks a full-body-bind curse thrown at her; she flashes him a grin that’s all sharp teeth and bright eyes. “No-one’s going to hit me while I’m on a broom—“

A jet of red light hits her square in the back. Impossibly – they were too far apart for him to be able to pick out her expression with any sort of clarity – Ichigo sees her eyes widen, and her lips form into a perfect O as the impact of the spell shudders through her. He counts, frozen, one second, two—

—before she starts falling, and everything in him falls with her.

Oh, We’re Halfway There / (Whoa-oh) Livin’ on a Prayer

It’s hard to keep up with all the news coming out of the conventions. These two weeks seem to go by so quickly, with so much bombast and politicking packed into so little time. Here’s what happened just in the last couple of days:

  • Several hours before formally accepting the Republican Party’s nomination, a draft copy of Donald Trump’s acceptance speech was leaked to Correct the Record, a pro-Clinton SuperPAC. Both Correct the Record and Politico, who had received the leaked speech from the PAC, declined to comment on their sources, except to say that the leak came from within the Trump campaign itself.
  • If you didn’t see the speech itself – and who could blame you, it’s a rambling, hour-long affair even with the teleprompter, and I can think of a lot more efficient emetics – you can watch it on Youtube here.  The speech contains multitudes, swinging wildly from ‘soporific’ to ‘panic-inducing’ as Trump declares (in all capital letters on the transcript) “I AM YOUR VOICE.”
  • The morning after his speech, The Washington Post published an article from their entire Editorial Board with the headline “Donald Trump is a unique threat to American democracy.” From the article:

What the candidate does offer is a series of prejudices and gut feelings, most of them erroneous. Allies are taking advantage of the United States. Immigrants are committing crimes and stealing jobs. Muslims hate America. In fact, Japan and South Korea are major contributors to an alliance that has preserved a peace of enormous benefit to Americans. Immigrants commit fewer crimes than native-born Americans and take jobs that no one else will. Muslims are the primary victims of Islamist terrorism, and Muslim Americans, including thousands who have served in the military, are as patriotic as anyone else.

  • That same day, Wikileaks released some 20,000 emails taken from the Democratic National Committee’s email servers. The leaks reopened a controversy about the DNC’s supposed neutrality in the Democratic primaries, as journalists discovered an email from Brad Marshall, the DNC’s Chief Financial Officer, which appears to be strategizing with the Clinton campaign against Bernie Sanders. The email in question asked “can we get someone to ask [Sanders’] belief. Does he believe in a God. He had skated on saying he has a Jewish heritage.” Attempts to “out” Sanders as an atheist would surely have made him less appealing to religious Democrats in the South.
  • Also on Friday, former Grand Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan David Duke announced that he was running for Senate in Louisiana, citing Trump’s popularity as the reason for his reemergence into political life. “Thousands of special-interest groups stand up for African Americans, Mexican Americans, Jewish Americans, et cetera, et cetera,” Duke said. “The fact is that European Americans need at least one man in the United States Senate — one man in the Congress — who will defend their rights and heritage.”
  • And finally, last night, Hillary Clinton announced her nominee for Vice President: Tim Kaine, Democratic Senator from Virginia. Kaine was the mayor of Richmond from 1998 to 2001, Lieutenant Governor of Virginia from 2002 to 2005, and Governor for four years after that. As a Virginia Democrat, Kaine’s record is fairly conservative, disappointing some in the party’s progressive wing who had hoped the Vice Presidential choice would reflect Bernie Sanders’ popularity and success in the Democratic primaries. (On a personal note, I grew up and went to high school in Richmond and saw Tim Kaine speak at least once, and I can confirm that he is both genial and somewhat dull. But dullness, it turns out, is at a premium in this election).


The Democratic National Convention starts on Monday. When the inevitable Twitch stream goes live, I’ll link it here. Until then, consider taking a day or two off from news, if you can - it’s been an extremely dense, often emotionally rough week, and there’s nothing you need to know so urgently it can’t wait until Monday.

anonymous asked:

"race you to space mountain" is the most dangerous thing you can say to this group because immediately tracer and lucio are gone and all of a sudden you just see junkrat LAUNCH HIMSELF OVER A PARADE while hanzo and genji are scaling buildings that widowmaker is swinging from, a kid asks their mom if mercy flying over the park is tinkerbell (and pharah is "the other tinkerbell") and solidier's too done with their shit to sprint after them

I FORGOT TO ANSWER THIS YESTERDAY but oh my GOD i’m howling this is beautiful and honestly a mess. they are all a mess and are going to get scolded by dad76 once he gets to the entrance of the ride

anonymous asked:

The casualties that the CCG has suffered here are massive...Unprecedented. What are they going to do to swing back from this? Crank out more Arata armors or get more QS up and running?

They cannot do anything. 

I, in my humble opinion, do not see the CCG as an active Institution in the near future. They lost their commander and their trump… among their best personnel … who knows how many will die in the coming chapters…

I really hope no more casualties in the CCG happen, as it can be perfectly dissolved as an Institution without them having to die :( 

anonymous asked:

could you do the farmer going on a dungeon quest with Abigail,Sam, and Sebastian? Thank you! :D

“Do you think we’re going to find some amethyst clusters?” Abigail asks as she looks around. “My mouth is starting to water.“ 

"Better amethyst clusters than some kind of dangerous creature,” Sam mutters, walking a bit too close to the farmer and Sebastian. When Sam steps on the heel of Sebastian’s shoe accidentally, Sebastian turns and snaps at him, “Sam, can you please give me some room?! This place is spooky enough without you creeping on me.” Sebastian’s voice faded in the last sentence. The farmer could sense that he was getting spooked. 

“It’s okay, just calm down,” they said to Sebastian, “I have a sword for a reason, I’ll protect you." 

"So will I!” Abigail chimed in, swinging her rusted sword high enough that it clanged loudly on the low ceiling. The teens covered their ears at the loud sound. Suddenly, dread filled the air as the whole mine went silent. 

“What’s that noise?” Sam asked hesitantly, clinging to the farmer’s shoulder and hiding behind them. It sounded like a million wings flapping all at once… The teens could all feel their skin prickle and hair stand on end. 

“Quick, to the exit!” The farmer yelled, though none of the teens could hear them well over the high pitched screeching of the bats. The farmer grabbed a stunned Abigail by the shoulder and practically hauled her and Sam up the ladder as Sebastian scrambled after them, throwing rocks at the hundreds of bats that were now swarming them. Safely outside of the mines, the teens caught their breath for a bit. 

“You guys,” the farmer panted hard, “wanna go in again?” Sam shook his head adamantly and Sebastian’s eyes went wide as he did the same. 

“Yeah!!” cheered Abigail while Sebastian and Sam stared in wonder. 

“Can we go back in now?” She charged up the the farmer excitedly, bouncing up and down. The farmer laughed lightly and patted Abigail’s shoulders so she would stop jumping. 

“Maybe after we get these wimps back home,” they said teasingly, looking back at Sam and Sebastian.

ch0sen-0ne1349  asked:

Hey I need some new music to listen to. What are your most favorite songs like I'm tired of the same music so can you possibly give me some songs...? Thanks babe

ohh cool i love asks like this hahaha, okay my fav songs at the moment are;
-catfish and the bottlemen(all of their songs but i’ll list my favs)- pacifier, 7, twice, cocoon, soundcheck
-the 1975- somebody else, the sound, chocolate, sex, change of heart
-viola beach- boys that sing, call you up, like a fool, swings and waterslides
-real friends- i’ve given up on you
-the story so far- nerve, clairvoyant, navy blue, heavy gloom
-twenty one pilots- heathens, kitchen sink, goner, doubt, the judge

hope you like some of them hahaha, let me know if you do x

anonymous asked:

Woah! Easy, Kid! Watch where you're swinging that plastic sword." (aceofstrange)


Maybe you should watch where you’re standing instead. I can’t control how long the sword is, but you can control how close you are to it.”

damalseer  asked:

"Chiquitita" by ABBA with Crowley or Gabriel (please)

Swinging your feet, you sighed. You had climbed up a tree to be alone, and hoped it would stay that way. “Hey, sugar.” Gabriel smiled when he popped up next to you.

You nodded slightly. “Hey, Gabe.”

“Hey, hey, now. What’s wrong?” He asked, worry written on his face. “And don’t lie to me, I can see it.”

“Sam and I broke up.” You told him sadly.

He put his arm around you and pulled you closer to him. “Well, I’m here. Feel free to cry on my shoulder. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say. It’ll pass, sweetcheeks.”

“Thanks, Gabe.”

anonymous asked:

I wonder if for swings he couldn't take specific medicine being in the military. I definitely don't know much about Korean military but I know my sister wanted to go in the Air Force but to go in I think she couldn't be on the anti depressant Zoloft.

Well the person I was talking to about Dok2 earlier actually commented that Swings can’t even take the medicine for his mental illnesses because they are illegal in Korea. So if he wanted them he would have to go abroad and that might not be taken too well by SK. (see Park Bom’s scandal). IT’s just sad all the way around.

purekagome  asked:

since you are so bravely taking prompt requests: "I walk into the stock room at work and you’re halfway through a window and seem to be balancing on a stack of boxes. You don’t even work here what the HELL do you think you’re doing." I have a massive list so I can literally go all day

AN: Here you go darling! I finally finished it! ^_^ It’s actually a bit longer than what I had anticipated, but I’m sure you’re not complaining haha. And look! You didn’t have to wait an extra day! It’s late, but at least I got it in tonight lol. Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Love you wifey!!

Keep reading

gunnakeeptrying  asked:

What is the weather like in Norway right now?

Norway is a country with a long coast line, so I can only speak for the southern eastern part where I am (Akershus). The weather here seems to have strong “mood swings”, it keeps changing every single day. It has been in a very short time thunder, rain, sun, rainbows, freezing cold and unbearably hot the past days. 

Today I was in Oslo and it was cloudy, but hot and clam air.

thedallasstarsbucks  asked:

can i have jamie interacting with tyler's dogs and tyler fonding all over the whole situation?


the road to 100 followers

When Tyler asked Jamie to dog-sit, he didn’t expect to be ambushed like this.

In hindsight, he really should have seen it coming.

When they met for the first time, Jamie had just broken up with his girlfriend of two years. They were at the sports bar down the street, and Jordie mentioned that his brother was gonna swing by since he was moving down to Dallas for the summer. Jordie didn’t mention that Jamie was going to spend the whole night looking like someone had kicked his puppy, or that that would last for weeks after. Tyler was barely even attracted to him because he looked like he needed a hug all the time, sad sack that he was.

(Okay, that’s a lie. Tyler has always been attracted to Jamie. But he used to at least try to keep a lid on it.)

Now, though, Jamie is one of his best friends. It’s been almost a year since they first met, and Tyler can’t imagine what his life would be like if he didn’t have Jamie the way he does now.

“How was the reunion?” asks Jamie casually from the couch, where Marshall is stretched along the back with his head on Jamie’s shoulder and Cash is curled up in his lap.

It’s disgustingly domestic. Tyler has two papers to write this weekend, and he absolutely can’t afford to waste time, but he sits down on the other end of the couch anyway. “It was fine. You know, family stuff. How were the dogs?”

Jamie grins. “They were great. We had fun, didn’t we?” He directs that question to Cash and Marshall, voice going soft and syrupy. Tyler is going to die here.

“Sounds like you did,” answers Tyler.

Jamie nods, shooting Tyler a lazy smile. “You coming to the gig Thursday?”

Tyler brushes a hand over Cash’s flank. “Obviously,” he replies easily. He’s only ever missed one of Jamie’s gigs, and it was a total miscommunication that was remedied with a lot of apologizing and sneak attacks in the form of hugs.

The band is a little ragtag and their sound is objectively a mess, but Tyler never has more fun than he does watching them play.

“Jordie keeps bugging me about setting you up with his friend,” says Jamie. “I could tell Jordie to bring him this time, see if you guys…” Jamie makes a hand gesture that could be any number of things, half of them obscene.

Tyler laughs outright. “Tell him to mind his own business, I’m fine.”

If Tyler squints, the set of Jamie’s shoulders is relieved. “He’s not gonna give up.”

“I know. I can handle myself, though.” I’ve been hung up on you for almost a year now, he doesn’t say, because that’s pathetic and a little embarrassing.

Jamie nods, but he looks pensive. The dogs are still sprawled across him. “Just- you’re not lonely, are you?” He looks so earnest.

“Jamie,” says Tyler, as seriously as he can manage, “I’m fine. Promise.”

Jamie eyes him for another handful of seconds before letting it go. “I gotta get to rehearsal,” he says, “but I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Tomorrow they’re going to grab coffee at the café down the street and do some homework, and Tyler is going to be cool and collected and not daydream about how their study dates feel like real dates more and more with each passing week.

“Of course,” says Tyler in the end, because he’s no good at saying no to things that hurt him. “I’ll see you there.”

my older brother’s playing through rf4 ever since I snatched him a 3ds for like $10, and I’m so fuckin envious of him

honestly I’m so envious of p much everyone that got into rf4 as their first title

I grew up on rf instead of harvest moon and I played all of them since they first came out, so I got to see the series grow up, sometimes going back to playing rf1 cause of how laughably bad it is in comparison now

and y’all are super lucky you have all these older games you can give a swing if you really want, cause lemme tell you the baggage of it being like the only series I own every single game product of fucking blows when rf5 just sorta vanished from development spotlight

I have a real soft spot for rf and I just want another one, that was the most feelgood shit ever

but there’s nothing left for me to play until that happens, I love postgame and all but I’ll be real that my fave things were having an actual plot going along with it while dungeon crawling

people are telling me to play stardew valley but it really isn’t the same thing, there was something very charming about the dungeon crawling in rf that only got better and better