it should have been impossible. no one should have been able to dream any of these things, much less all of them. but adam had seen what ronan could do. he’d read the dreamt will and ridden in the dreamt camaro and been terrified by the dreamt night terror.
Joseph absolutely hated when he couldn't hold his children when they were first born. He'd hold them as often as they could. When Chris was born, Joseph cried and when Mary slept that night, he'd whisper promises that he'd whisper to each of his kids the night they were born. He whispered promises of always loving them no matter who they grew up to be (I sent this to the wrong person first and want to d i e)
Oh man, that’s so cute, I love it. I have 0 experience with babies, but I do remember my dad telling me how much of a total bitch it was to cut the cords off of each of us shortly after we were born only to have us handed off to our mom directly after.
I can imagine him having a very “I JUST GOT TO TOUCH MY BABY AND NOW YOU’VE TAKEN HIM AWAY also brb gonna puke because that had no right to be so SINEWY-” reaction, and it really didn’t change each time they had kids. I also like to imagine that Christie and Christian were surprise twins?? Like maybe not because of the technology today, but like…
I can picture Joseph being the most doting husband besides Mary in the delivery room. She’s screaming, he’s freaking the fuck out, he’s lost feeling in his hand like thirty minutes ago but he’s too focused on trying to calm Mary down (and, no, it is NOT WORKING, Mary’s shouted so many expletives by this point Joseph’s considered giving up on the whole ‘swears are a sin’ thing)…An then Christie is born. A son first, and now a daughter?? He’s thrilled, but something’s different. Mary hasn’t calmed down, and the doctors rushed Christie away instead of handing it to Mary like last time.
Mary starts screaming again and Joseph just loses his shit, okay, like oh my God, is she dying?? Was Christie (or, ‘unnamed baby girl’) dying?? And then the doctor draws back with another baby in his arms. Mary’s crying but desperately asking to hold her babies at this point, just happy the ordeal is over, and Joseph’s just stunned, like, two babies?? Two more lovely children?? Chris was already his life and now he has TWO MORE BABIES?? HE SCREAMS??
And then Mary has to start telling her husband to calm down okay because now the drugs are kicking back in and the babies are fine and wow he really just needs to shut up okay, like, calm down, it’s okay, breath, just breath. She still makes fun of him to this day for freaking out, and Joseph completely agrees that he totally lost his cool and had no right to start sobbing like that. Especially since he wasn’t the one who just delivered two babies.
Every time new kids entered the house he basically spent every hour he could with them. It got to the point that Mary had to force him to leave because dammit her boobs are sore and her head hurts and he just needs to fucking?? Leave?? Oh my God. She was more than willing to let him put the babies to sleep every night, though, and go to bed early herself. She deserved the rest, and he loved getting to do it.
Well, most nights, at least. Some nights were full of equal crying from both father and children because they just…Wouldn’t…Go to sleep…And it’s two am and he has to work in the morning and he wishes he could say he regrets asking to do this…
But he doesn’t. Because he loves his kids too much, and he always will. He promised.
you know I know it’s not fucking profitable for people to study certain degrees over others, but that doesn’t mean you should shit on people for studying what they love.
Furthermore you shouldn’t talk down to little kids saying they want to be a graphic designer, or a film maker, or an actor, or a musician, or whatever else you deem useless to society, because it’s not profitable in our sociopolitical systems. They have interests, and it doesn’t matter whether or not they’ll succeed on a global scale, that’s irrelevant, they don’t have to be groundbreaking to do what they want to do.
Money is not the fucking point, the point is the kid wants to do something the kid enjoys and is proud and excited about. Encourage children in most anything they’re interested in, as a matter of fact encourage most everyone to do shit they love within basic moral reasoning.
If a person isn’t immediately good at mathematics, physics, or even graphic designing, that doesn’t fucking mean you should shit on them and tell them to give up.
Encourage passions, passions and joy keep people alive. Interests go beyond money, because you can’t really use money if you’re fucking dead due to you feeling like a failure and never did what you truly loved.
You have no idea how successful a child or an adult is going to be in what they’re trying to learn about and do, stop fucking betting against them and maybe they’ll be more confident to improve their lives and the lives of others around them.
And again, people don’t have to be groundbreaking savants to do shit they like.
[and im literally actually a fucking poor person so don’t even act like I’m spouting some bourgeois propaganda tellin people to stay poor, i aint. i’m saying people should be allowed to enjoy things]
A few days ago I asked you if you’d be interested in a Fairy Tail challenge and many of you said yes.
So here it is.
To be honest, I’ve had the idea of making my own FT challenge ever since I joined Tumblr 2 years ago, but I never got to it. With FT’s end, I felt like it’s finally time for me to do what I’ve wanted to for such a long time.
Feel free to do all the prompts or just the one(s) you want! ^^ You can also tag me on your posts so I can see them! ^^
You lay awake next to Jason, staring up at the ceiling. The Gotham air was hot and sticky, and your sheets and night-clothes clung to your skin. You listened to the ceiling fan spinning above you, how the pull chain for the light clicked softly against the fixture as it swung. The soft hum of the spinning blades was calming, and you felt it fan the warm air down onto the bed. The soft electronic beep of the digital clock on the bedside marked the start of another hour.
You sighed softly, and turned your head to face Jason. “Are you awake too?” you asked in a hushed tone.
Jason hummed in response and rolled closer to you. He wrapped his strong arms around your smaller frame, and you clicked your tongue at how the humidity made your skin stick to his. “Can’t sleep?” he murmured, his lips pressed against your neck.
“Yeah,” you sighed in response, draping one arm over his neck and tangling your other hand in his hair. The heat of your bodies pressed together on the summer night was uncomfortable, but you didn’t mind so much.
“Me neither,” he said, speaking slowly. He pressed a series of soft, loving kisses to your jawline. “Wanna do something?”
“Like what?” you asked, humming slightly as he kissed your jaw.
“We could go out for a ride or something,” he suggested, rolling onto his back and taking you with him.
“That sounds nice,” you agreed, sighing contently as you rested your head against his chest. You listened to his heart, beating steadily, and felt the rise and fall of his chest. You remembered the pain you’d felt when he had been dead, and the gratitude you’d felt upon his return. The gratitude you still felt every time you saw him, every time you considered how lucky you were to have him.
“Earth to (Y/N),” Jason said, pulling you from your straying thoughts. “We should go and get ready if we’re gonna go for that ride, okay?”
“Okay,” you responded, rolling off of Jason’s chest and getting out of bed. You went over to the closet and changed into clothing suitable for a motorcycle ride, and Jason did the same.
Neither of you spoke, and the buzz of the ceiling fan provided the background noise in the small, dark room as you both prepared to go out. Once you were ready, you made your way over to Jason, who waited, leaning in the doorway.
“Ready to go?” he asked, smirking down at you ever so slightly.
“Ready when you are, Jay,” you replied, smiling in return.
You walked out of the small apartment together, Jason locking the door behind you. You went down the stairway and soon you were outside. The warm nighttime air was somewhat refreshing, although Gotham’s pollution meant that the air always smelled ever so slightly like monoxide from cars.
You got to the place where Jason liked to park his motorcycle and donned your helmets. You had never expected Jason to be a safety-first kind of guy, but he was strict on the fact that you wore a helmet and the right kind of clothes if he ever took you out on a ride. You found it quite endearing.
You got onto the motorcycle after Jason and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your feet on the foot pegs.
Jason started the bike, and the engine came humming to life. “Ready, babe?” he asked, making sure he didn’t startle you when he started moving.
“Yep,” you confirmed leaning forward into his back, the leather of both your jackets brushing together.
From there, you took off, speeding quickly down the streets of downtown Gotham.
You smiled in excitement as you felt the warm wind whip against the small sections of exposed skin near your wrists and neck, and you felt the road underneath you pass by smoothly.
You watched in amazement, and fell a little bit further in love as Jason shifted his hands and feet on the handlebar and driver’s pedals to adjust to your surroundings and the texture of the road. You could practically see his brow furrowing in confident concentration.
A few minutes later you were cruising on a relatively open freeway. Only a few other cars shared the road with you. The lights around you blurred together in streaks of yellow and red against the dark blue of the night skyline.
Every once in a while Jason would shift lanes, weaving in and out of the dotted lines skillfully. The silence between the two of you was a comfortable one, and you found a strange mix of comfort and exhilaration. Comfort at Jason’s strong presence in front of you, and your arms around his torso, and exhilaration at the loud buzz of the motorcycle and the streaks of lights that whizzed through your line of sight at a million miles an hour.
You’d been riding comfortable for a while when you noticed Jason’s body tense slightly more than usual. You weren’t sure why, but suddenly you had a bad feeling in your gut. You assured yourself it was nothing, and continued to maintain the silence between you.
Jason shifted over to the right side of the road and suddenly you realized what the issue was. Out of one of the the rear view mirrors that were attached to the handlebars you saw a pickup truck coming up fast behind you.
Your hold around Jason’s waist tightened in anxiety, and your gloved fingers dug into the leather of his jacket.
“We’re gonna be fine, baby.”
You could barely make out Jason’s voice over the sound of the engine and the other cars, but you nodded your head as best you could with the helmet on, hoping that he recognized your sign of acknowledgment.
The pickup truck accelerated so that it matched your speed and for a few minutes it travelled next to you, seemingly inconspicuous.
The next thing you knew, it was shifting into your lane, pushing you closer and closer to the barrier that was on the right side of the road.
“What the hell is this guy doing?” Jason yelled, trying to slow down to allow the truck into the lane. It decelerated along him, however, and continued to push you into the barrier that separated the road from a nasty looking tangle of trees.
“What the fuck?” Jason cried out, and decided to go faster to try to slip away.
You clung onto him tightly as you accelerated rapidly.
Once again, the driver of the truck decided to follow, and Jason slowed down to normal speed in reluctant compliance, deciding that if this had to happen then it would hurt a hell of a lot less at a slower speed.
“Damnit!” he cursed as you were pushed all the way into the guardrail, and sparks flew as the metal of the bike scraped roughly against the stone barrier.
For the tiniest instant, the pickup truck driver seemed to ease up again, and shift back out into the left side, but before Jason could take the opportunity, it was crushed.
The truck sideswiped you, and hard.
The motorcycle collided violently with the guardrail, and you felt your body jerk as you collided with it.
By some miracle, Jason had managed to angle the motorcycle to stay on the road, but he was quickly losing control of the bike.
“Shit, shit, shit!” Jason cussed, as you skidded once again against the barrier. You felt like it was happening in slow motion.
You saw Jason’s hands being torn away from the handgrips as sparks flew all around you and chunks of shrapnel soared through the air.
The instant dragged out for what felt like minutes, but soon time caught up to you, and you saw concrete flying towards your face, or maybe you were flying towards the concrete. You heard a loud crack as the face shield of your helmet hit the pavement and your body collided horizontally with the road.
Everything was hazy as Jason slowly awoke. He felt concrete underneath him and his head hurt like hell. In a strange daze, Jason slowly sat up and removed his helmet, trying to see his surroundings through bleary eyes. He could hear his own heartbeat as well as the blood rushing through his veins. Everything echoed strangely.
His vision cleared up slightly, and he could see what was around him. He could see that his bike was trashed, ripped into chunks of smoking metal, and he could see blood on the road. That was strange. Blood on the road? He wasn’t bleeding.
A slow realization dawned on him, and he felt a pit form in his stomach. He felt useless as he crawled towards the wreckage of the bike, unable to make himself stand. He tried to call out your name, but his voice failed him. It was dark, and the only light by which he could see was a street light a small distance away.
He saw a small form lying in the road just a few feet ahead, and he forced himself to get to it– get to you– as fast as he could.
You were lying face down in the road, your limbs splayed out at awkward angles. The fiberglass of your helmet was scratched up badly. Your clothes were ripped and torn and blood soaked several sections of your clothing.
Jason’s heart dropped. He couldn’t tell if you were even alive anymore. Gently, he removed your helmet, careful not to jostle your body. But then again, for all he knew, there was nothing but a corpse in his arms. He was relieved to find your face was mostly unscathed, with only a few minor scratches and bruises here and there.Carefully and slowly, he peeled away your torn and bloodied jacket. The lacerations he found underneath made him cringe. There were bone deep cuts and pieces of skin that had been torn, and places where he couldn’t tell where the cuts stopped and the thick streams of blood started.
His first instinct was to cry out. To cry out for help, because for the first time in a long time he was willing to set aside his pride and scream for help. But he knew better than to waste his voice crying out into deafening traffic.
With a shaking hand, he reached into his pocket to find his cellphone. His fingers wrapped around the small device as he pulled it from his pocket. The screen had cracked but was still useable, and he dialed nine-one-one from the emergency call screen.
They picked up almost immediately, and Jason managed to choke out his location so that they could send an ambulance.
The phone slipped from his fingers as he finished the call and clattered to the asphalt below.
His hand hovered above your mouth, and to his relief he felt short and shallow breaths. You were still alive. ‘But for how long?’ he thought, hopelessness clouding his thoughts.
No. He couldn’t afford to think that way. Not in this situation.
He wasn’t sure how long it took for the ambulance to arrive. All he knew was that it had finally gotten there, and every second it took felt like a second too long when he held your bruised and bloodied body in his arms.
The minute the paramedics had reached him they were asking him too many questions about things he was too dazed to remember and taking you out of his arms and onto a gurney.
Jason allowed a paramedic to guide him into the ambulance and suddenly the stress his body was under finally set in as the adrenaline wore off. He was dizzy and a newfound nausea had him leaning over a bucket with an emergency responder holding his hair out of his face.
He barely registered what was happening as the doors of the ambulance were shut and the vehicle started moving. He blinked as someone shone a flashlight into his eyes and said something about a concussion. He was moved onto a second gurney, even though he was sure he didn’t need it. Jason was vaguely aware of his surroundings during the drive to the hospital, but his thoughts mainly centered around your safety. He kept trying to ask the paramedic that hovered over him about you, but he wasn’t entirely sure his sentences were coming out correctly.
The white of the inside of the hospital contrasted starkly to the night sky and suddenly everything was indistinguishable from everything else. Just a meaningless blur of white walls and white uniforms and white machines and white lights.
He groaned slightly as black spots danced across his vision. It was getting harder and harder to think, and the bright lights were hurting his head.
He couldn’t quite place when—or if—he lost consciousness, and the next thing he knew he was lying in a hospital bed, Bruce at his side.
Authors and artists will be adding their works to our AO3 Collection: http://archiveofourown.org/collections/CAP_RBB_2017 and we will be reblogging masterposts of fic+art here! Posting will
continue all the way until Steve’s birthday, so that’s over a month of
awesome artwork and fics. We hope everyone’s as excited about this as we
Posting Time We’ve staggered posting over several weeks so that 200+ RBB works don’t flood
the fandom all at once. This is why we’d like you to stick to your
posting date, but we don’t mind the exact time of posting. Choose
whatever time works best in your timezone.
Optional Teasers Some
people like to post teasers as a fun way to whet the appetite and
generate interest. However, please don’t post whole pieces of artwork or
fic before your posting day. Please use close crops and small fic
snippets only, and please remember to @capreversebb when you do.
Posting to the AO3 collection Only
completed works are to be posted to the collection. If you’re posting a
chaptered work, please ensure that you post your final chapter before
adding the work to the collection. The AO3 collection to post to is here.
details about posting as Co-Authors, as “Inspired By” and as a “Gift”
are in the Posting Logistics email that we’ve sent out to all participants.
you need any help with embedding the artwork or finding an image host
for the artwork, please let us know, we can help you organise it.
Creating the Tumblr Masterpost This
is the post that we will reblog here, so please make
sure you get it right! It does not matter if the Author or the Artist
make the masterpost, as long as we can reblog it. Your masterpost should
A SFW crop of the artwork, or a story banner
(option: if the artist is posting the masterpost, they can choose
whether they want to include the whole artwork. Whole pieces should only
be included if the artist is posting the masterpost and if the art is
Fic title and AO3 link
Link to the artwork if posted separately
Links to the Author’s and the Artist’s tumblrs and/or AO3 accounts
Fic and Artwork Rating (G/PG/M/NC-17)
(As per AO3 guidelines, please warn for graphic violence, underage,
non-con or major character death) and use any other relevant tags as you
Do I have to send caprbb a draft? No.
Get your completed collaboration up on your posting date, add it to the
AO3 collection and post a tagged rebloggable masterpost on Tumblr, and
we’ll be happy.
What if the art was claimed by 2 people, who have different posting days? Please
make sure that there are 2 separate masterposts, one for each fic/art
collaboration. It’s up to each team to work out their own logistics for
posting, and each author may have different ideas so please make sure
you’ve discussed and agreed on the best posting method.
contact us if you aren’t sure about something, need help contacting your
collab partner, or just need to scream in nervous excitement, we’re
here for you!
If you send us an Ask, please sign in, we will respond to you in private.
Due to relative popular demand, we have decide to take the initiative and come up with the first ShinDeku Week! So from 7th of August until the 13th of August, we get an excuse to show our love for the ship between Midoriya Izuku and Shinsou Hitoshi from the anime and manga series My Hero Academia.
You can make fanarts, fanfictions, fanmixes, graphics, etc., according the following prompts (and quotes, if you feel like using them!) corresponding to each day:
DAY 1: Curiosity / Secrets “No. The answer is no.”
DAY 2: Insecurities / Comfort “I can’t believe you made me do this.”
DAY 3: Trust / Rivals “Honestly? I’m just like you.”
DAY 4: Home / Firsts “You are the biggest dork.”
DAY 5: Accidents / Vengeance “Do I have any choice?”
DAY 6: Memories / Dreams “This should be the time of our lives.”
DAY 7: AU / Free!
(And, of course, feel free to add cats whenever and wherever you want.)
We encourage you to tag your creations with the #shindeku weekor #shindeku week 2017 tag, so that way we can find it! Also be sure to tag sensitive works properly (NSFW, for example) so we can tag them too once we reblog them here! You can choose one prompt, just the quote, both prompts, one and one- Just go at it and have fun! We’ll also do our best to figure out how to make an AO3 collection so you can tag your fics there as well (: If you got a question don’t be shy to send it our way, and we’ll answer it as soon and clearly as we can.
Feel free to follow us so we can keep you up to date, and so you can check all the content once the week begins!
After hours of tossing and turning, you gave up. You couldn’t get your mind off what you had witnessed on the bridge, the man - if he could be called that - was heartless, cold, bloodthirsty, and above all, a killer.
Still dressed in the same clothes, you grabbed your bag and a jacket, knowing exactly where you were headed, but unsure if you’d be able to find anything. The streets were mostly empty, as to be expected at 4am, so the drive to the DCPD building was quick and quiet.
The security officer jolts away as your steps click towards him, “Hey Shaun,” you say, giving him a kind smile,
“Detective Y/L/N,” he says with a groggy voice, “I was just… Resting my eyes,”
You force a chuckle, making him relax as you scan your key card and make your way to the elevator, not wanting to stand around and chat. You’re getting impatient, and your foot unconsciously taps as the elevator seems to crawl upwards. Finally the doors open and you make a beeline for your desk.
Once logged in, you repeat the same process that you had at home; searching for anything and everything you could find that related to yesterday’s events. This time you had more luck. Your search seemed to return one file, labelled S.H.I.E.L.D.
Hello There! So my dash has been dead lately And i need to follow new blogs :3
If you’d like for me to check out your blog, please REBLOG and TAG what applies to you. Also, I can’t promise a follow to everyone, please don’t be disheartened if I don’t follow! Your blog will always be amazing (´∀｀)♡
(1) have a tagging system
(2) no reposted works
-I’m looking for:
Scenery / Sakura
You should be super active
You’re blog is Multifandom
Are following me! (I’d love to have some new mutuals!)
You make gifs/graphics etc.
So that’s all ^^
Mutuals if you could signal boost this for me, I’d really appreciate it!
This is my attempt to clarify what this blog is and in what context you should view it, taking into account criticisms I’ve received in the past.
It is no mistake that many of you assume I’m a dickish, 20-something philosophy major dude when really I’m a teenage girl. If you spend time learning and/or even just talking about philosophy, you run into quite a few of them, so I’ve tried to blog as a characterized version of the group. (Additionally, a lot fewer people call you stuff like “stupid cunt” when they think you’re a bro-y dude.)
This whole blog can in some ways be seen as my own silly little referendum on philosophy in general–I find philosophy has many valuable elements, but its elitism is detrimental to its own cause and I think a little light hearted mud-slinging is good for the conversation, especially with the devisiveness of modern academia.
In regard to the posts I reblog, I use a program called Queue+ (if you wanted to know where the proceeds from my t-shirt sales go, they allow me to use the full version). It maintains the level of content my followers have reacted best to without my having to be constantly online, however, if you have any experience with the extension you’ll know that in mass queuing it’s easy to add posts to your queue that have a message you don’t intend. It’s then very difficult to weed all those posts out when your queue is 2000+ posts long. So in the case that posts like this get reblogged, I try to delete them as soon as possible (it’s easiest if someone lets me know ;D). On the other hand, I have also been scolded for cracking jokes about ideas my followers hold in high esteem, and I need you all to know this–just because I mock it here does not mean I do not value it, just that even the greatest ideas sometimes need to be poked fun at.
I try not to get involved with the discourse and clapback culture as I generally find it totally unconstructive and leading to a sort of public shaming Jon Ronson has written a very good book about. But, if I have reacted in such an immature way to one of your posts and some of my followers have given you trouble about it contact me. I will do what I can to end it. I don’t condone the sort of harassment that I know I could in a moment of weakness incite here.
Some have questioned my stance on mental health issues in the past, which I assume has to do with my tendency to occasionally reblog self-deprecating, nihilist type memes. Here it is important to remember the commonplace nature of memes like this in the memeing community, taking into account the commonality of mental illness amongst the bloggers. I, for example, suffer from depression and an anxiety disorder that manifests itself largely in obsessive compulsive tendencies (my maintainance of this blog included), but am currently at a pretty good place thanks to getting on the right meds and a lot of time spent in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. If you are in a bad place I encourage you to seek such treatments out. At the same time, to me, as to many others with whom I’ve spoken, “nihilist memes” expressing and finding the melodramatics in our own negative thoughts can be very cathartic.
On the topic of tagging, perhaps the most divisive of the issues discussed here, it is true that I do not tag much. I tag my original posts topically, but following in the footsteps of the booty diaries I keep most of my reblogs unmarked. This arises partially from the technical difficulty of tagging posts I have mass queued, but in an even greater way it arises from my own discomfort with the issue in general. My rationale is essentially this: I reblog neither graphic imagery nor extremely hateful language–the kind of things that would require a warning before appearing on the evening news–so if my regular feed of posts is not appealing to you, then you should turn it all down. My unfiltered quality is one of my strongest characteristics in real life and I would like to continue that avant garde style on my blog. For whatever it’s worth, it’s important to me; and necessary to this feeling authentically mine.
Beyond me, there are more individuals who contribute somewhat sparingly to this blog. They–and the subtle distance I put between this blog and my actual self–are the reason I will sometimes use the pronoun “we” to refer to the creators of this blog.
Which brings me to the main point of this blog, fun. It’s fun to take long respected material and combine it with contemporary jokes not just my teachers will understand. It’s fun to mock the annoying bros I know irl while also having an opportunity to be “just one of the guys” for once. It’s fun to invest so much effort and time into something that feels so mine and to have other people enjoy it.
not at all sorry but if you haven’t survived sexual abuse, assault, rape, CSA, or forced incest, you do not have the right to make graphic/explicit art or literature of it. you do not have the right to co-opt people’s trauma like that. it is not your place to make works like that- you don’t help heal anybody because you have no clue what you’re talking about, you have no clue what it’s like to experience it. you don’t get to speak over ACTUAL victims and survivors, you don’t get to speak FOR us. especially not when your intent for that work is to be sexually gratifying. i do not care if you have “friends who are survivors” so you can’t POSSIBLY be being disrespectful- sorry, that’s literally just a different version of “i have disabled friends i can’t be ableist” “i have nonwhite friends so i can’t be racist”. Stop trying to defend incestuous and pedophilic ships. i know it’s “just fandom” but for gods sake a fanbase should be a safe place for everybody who is a fan, and you literally will not be harmed by not writing or drawing graphic violent content like that. whereas it is VERY upsetting for a LOT of survivors to see that kind of content! and it doesn’t always get tagged! it is not harmless!!!! stop writing graphic rape/CSA if you aren’t a survivor and honestly even if you are, please think about why you are doing that and sharing it.
for anybody who wants to explore dark themes and trauma- understand that you don’t ever need to show the trauma actively happening in order to show how it affects your characters. you don’t. do your research, learn the aftereffects and the psychological, emotional, mental harm, and write about that. don’t make excuses and say “i want to help survivors heal really” bc writing graphic rape porn does not do that.
Sooooo tomorrow is Zelda day! I will probably close myself playing at it, trying to avoid all the spoilers and damns and crying over it for the rest of the month.
Question: would you like to get a ticcy plays breath of the wild, spoiler tagged, under cut rambling and probably me embarassing myself at the games I should be good at?
Not sure about how to tag the spoilers chapter after chapters tho, I will figure it out. (of course I think it would be better to read after you have played that part, so we can all laugh together about how silly I am) ?