#[ mai 01 ]

[insert-cephalopod-joke]

Bro really visited her friend

Bonus!

[yuureigana]

Hatsune Miku, The Muse of Creation

[greyfics]

even if it's handcuffed, I'm leaving here with you.

- °•. ✦ .•° -

pairing: the ghoul (cooper howard) x reader fic type: enemies to lovers, no smut, mild spice + eventual fluff slow burn meter: ◈◈◇◇◇ word count: 3.8K inspo: TPD lyric prompt list, reblogged on main reader type: assumed wastelander background, gender neutral, 'I don't need a knight to save me', assumed negative views of BoS, assumed gun for hire cw: strong language, violence, reference to fictional drugs, mild dismemberment summary: reader is a gun for hire who has gotten themselves into a bit of trouble in the form of a moderate bounty with a local segment of the brotherhood- and cooper howard knows he can get all the drugs he needs for what seems like an easy job.

- °•. ✦ .•° -

"We can do this all day, darlin'. Even if it's handcuffed, I'm leavin' here with you." you feel the pressure of a pistol barrel pressing against the base of your skull from behind, and a disgruntled, defeated sigh slips through your lips. The game is up- you're out of ammo, down to the ripper hanging from your side, and 'gun against the brain-cage' is the indisputable checkmate.

Up to this point, you'd been pretty successful in shaking off the swathes of bounty hunters and jet-scrounging raiders that'd been on your tale since you became an enemy to the brotherhood- which, nowadays, seemed to be a pretty fucking easy feat to accomplish. The rusty knights were getting a little big for their oversized, several-tonne boots- and you had never been a fan of self-asserting authorities using their power in the name of 'order', especially not when they could hardly organise their own little sectors across the expansive, sparse remains of the USA.

As good with a revolver as you are, today it seems your luck has ran out and your karma has caught up with you, because you've finally met your match in a ghoul with a face so smug you wish you at least had a chance to slap it before losing the game of cat and mouse you'd been playing for a couple days now across Junktown. Your face collides into concrete and a quick click combines with the feel of steel against your wrists, The Ghoul's threat having evolved into a promise.

You spit a ball of blood and saliva from your mouth, wrought up by the hard impact with the ground below, "Alright, you win this round you freak- I'll come with you, just get these off of me." You hear a smirk from above, "Now how stupid do you fuckin' think I am? No, I gave you a chance to come willingly, you chose to shoot me in the leg. Lucky I ain't returned the favour." He gives you a light, sharp kick in the side with the tip of his boot, "Up. We got a long way to travel, and sooner we get there, sooner I get paid. I'll be reminding you now that I only get a bonus for bringing you alive, so make my life hell and I'll live without the extra caps." "Not exactly easy when my-" you hear the chick of a safety being cocked, and awkwardly shuffle back until you can jut sharply up onto your knees and slowly stand, turning to glare daggers into your now captor. The Ghoul's expression remains stiffly affixed with the wry, smug facade he bears: relaxed, squinting eyes peeking out above a thin, ever-upturned lip- you swear to yourself to you'll smack that smile off his face- but by all accounts, beneath the withered, decaying skin that had festered in his ghoulish transformation, the man had the stature (and admittedly, the jawline) of a filmstar.

You shake off the irritable possibility of monster like this getting lucky with the gene pool as a calloused hand secures a vice grip on one of your wrists and tugs you in suit as it's owner sets into motion, dragging you away from the remnants of an old civilisation and towards a military base miles away you are all too acquainted with.

You had been so caught up in the wild ride of adrenaline that came with being on the lamb that you briefly detached yourself from the catalyst of the chase- but as concrete and clay inevitably crumbles away to distant sandy dunes and cacti, the dread stirs in your stomach like a plague. It was easier to wave off the consequences of your actions when you weren't being marched towards the gallows to face them- it wasn't like you made an attack on the organisation. You kill one knight trashing up a town in the name of redundant technology, and suddenly you're on a hit-list. You know The Ghoul probably doesn't know this, and you know for certain that even if you tried to give the man a sob story he wouldn't care. This was it. "You about to be sick?" You snap from your pessimistic daze at the sudden interruption of silence, "No. Why?" "You look like you just ate a mouldy iguana, that's why- and I don't want sick on my boots." You let out an irked groan, and sharply snap your head to face the horizon in the opposite direction to your captor. You hope this will satiate his sour jabs for the time being-

Your hope is crushed five minutes later.

"Go on then. I'm bored shitless and I'm outta jet, so spill." He says with an almost theatrical exasperation in his voice, "Spill what, exactly?" you coldly respond in a mute tone, focus still fixed on the horizon to the west, "Well what's the big story? Someone's always gotta be the victim when they got a bounty on their head, so what's the tragic tale behind 'Y/N', huh?" the muscles in your neck and shoulders tense up at the mention of your name- you weren't exactly a known associate or long-time rival to the brotherhood, and the wanted poster you had wrestled from the stiff fingertips of a raider last week only had a sketch and a scrawled account of the incident. You falter for a moment before replying, but ardently avoid taking the bait, "If your plan is to get me to tell you how we got to where we are right now just so you can mock me, then I think I'd rather carry on enjoying the view, if you don't mind." The sweet-toned sarcasm at the end of your sentence seeps with venom, and the hostility it implies does not slip away from your adversary.

This time, his laugh is a soft, whisper of a chuckle- something spiteful, foreboding- followed by matching words, "You should hear what your little community had to say about you for a couple caps and a promise not to shoot anybody- well, anybody else-" his words cut into something personal, then- and though you would normally know that attacking someone with your hands cuffed behind your back is never going to end in your favour, at this moment you couldn't care less as you swing your leg round in a swift roundhouse motion, and raise your knee towards the only place you can think to leave a mark-

You hit your target, but instead of howls of pain you are met with a split second of awkward silence as the ghoul cocks his head, unimpressed, before slamming it into your own, sending you staggering back a few paces-

Before you can reorient your vision, a heavy dull force plummets into your ribs- the sand cushions your blow slightly better than the concrete you met face-to-face with an hour ago, at least. Your arms, however, are not grateful to be pressed beneath you as a familiar, withered hand pushes into your throat, putting as much pressure on your trapped limbs when your upper body presses back as it does on your esophagus, halting your air supply as he lowers himself down to a kneel and fixes your gaze onto his,

"If I wasn't already a walking corpse, that could've really hurt- not a very nice thing to do to someone just tryna have a little bit of light conversation now, is it?" All you can do is glower through eyes blinded by the sun, which gleams behind the shadow of the ghoul's head, bearing on it a smile tweaked with frustration- you need to breathe- you can't keep this up, your heartbeat is louder than the sun in your eyes and-

The pressure releases. You turn your head to the ground and suck in air between dry, heavy coughs, and after you've finally steadied your breath, you find a minor fleck of relief in being hoisted up from the ground this time instead of scrabbling to get up at gunpoint. You wonder, perhaps, if this is some small act driven by guilt- perhaps this man had a conscience once and a set of values beyond doing what it takes to ensure one's own survival. You were a gun for hire yourself, so it would be hypocritical to criticise your captor for his line of work- mostly, you preferred to stick with jobs guarding merchant caravans and to take out bands of raiders harassing the cities you passed through, but you never questioned the legitimacy of the requests you received, or the cargo you oversaw; you had settled for a little while, having stuck around the same little settlement for a few years now and had started to develop some semblance of a connection to the people there-

or so you thought.

You know you're going to be walking for a while- so with a resigned breath, you begin saying what little there is left to say about your present situation, "Well, you probably know most of what I can tell you from the sounds of things, but I guess there's nothing else for me to do right now, and the horizon is the same no matter where you go around here. I guess you could say we're in similar lines of work, but that's not really what got me in trouble with The Brotherhood. They think they can rock up in a power armour with a logo on it and wreak havoc as they please because it's for 'the greater good', but they leave towns half-destroyed when they pass through. I didn't want that to happen to... well, I didn't like the sound of that happening where I was. So, dude gets out of his power armour and starts waving guns around screaming about some piece of pre war tech or the other, and I tell him with... a strong choice of words, to get going. He starts running for the power armour, guns blazing- and I just have better aim, I guess. Not even like I got paid for killing him, either. Maybe that would've made this whole thing a little bit sweeter."

Your profession leaves a silence hanging in the air for a little while after, but it feels appropriate. The dunes filter sand from the far west to respond to your story- the horizon quivers, but only through the illusion of heat; the sand dries your eyes before they have reason to shed tears. A loaded sigh escapes the ghoul in front of you, and the clasp on your wrist softens but for a moment before stiffening to pull you onwards, "Yep, well, caps keep you going a little longer round these parts, but money can't solve all your problems." "You should tell that to the Brotherhood. They seem to be doing pretty well for all the wealth they've hoarded- can even pay big time bounty hunters to do their shitwork from the looks of things." You retort, but after a moment follow up with, "Wish I could say I was upset about it but hell, if I were you, I'd turn me in too."

You hear that soft chuckle again, but when you turn around to catch a look at the face that matches it, you see relaxed muscles and a far-off stare- he won't let you go, but he has let his guard down but a little bit- perhaps when we get closer to my story's end, he'll even let me walk to my death with my hands unbound.

- °•. ✦ .•° -

After trudging on in silence for a while, head bowed to your fatalistic contemplations, you find as you drag yourself out of the pit in your head and look over the horizon once more that the scene has changed: the atomic orange dewdrops spattering the sky not long ago have quickly to faded into a bruised overhanging shadow of violent, lavender, crimson; twilight approaches, and you're still surrounded by desert hills and illusions.

One of these illusory quivers catches your sharp eye, a dark blip that has appeared somewhere in that distance; it's moving, but it isn't close enough for you to determine whether it's just a trick of the heat or whether it's something heading in your direction. Your brow furrows, but you say nothing yet.

Within a minute, the object comes into better focus- or, rather, the creature. Your heart skips a beat, and you open your mouth to utter some kind of warning, managing to rasp, "Get the handcuffs off of me." "Now, darlin', I thought we managed to get past this already-" "No-" You tug your bound wrists, pulling the ghoul into your side- his other arm steadies itself against your shoulder before slipping up to your jaw and dragging it to face him, his own clenched and unaccompanied by a smile this time- the pallid complexion of your own face gives him enough pause for you to blurt in a fruitless, strained whisper, "Deathclaw."

If The Ghoul's skin could have paled more than it already had in his lifeless state, then it might have at that moment. The tight grip holding you against him slackens completely and you thud onto your ass as he draws his guns and casts you a playfully pitiful glance from above, shrugging and saying, "Sorry, darlin', guess I forgot to pick up the keys." He steps in front of you as a curse rips out of your throat in the sudden panic that ensues, and you try to muster enough brain cells in this moment to figure out a way of not dying, prematurely, and becoming just another skeletal curio.

There's the back-up plan, the 'if shit goes south' plan that you still hadn't gone through with because of the possible dismemberment that it might entail- but you had not been unarmed when you had been restrained earlier, and the phantom hum of a ripper blade always strapped to your waist as your last resort. You won't be able to wield it with any competence with your hands restrained as they are, but you can hit the power button from your current position-

Though, usually, you'd prefer to do it when the blade was already in your hand, not digging into the side of your leg.

shredded leg is better than deathclaw snack. Your astute analysis confirms your decision, and with a grunt and a whack, the blade starts chugging into a steady whirring action by the will of the dregs of an energy cell embedded inside- the next couple of seconds are far too long.

The blade begins it's excursion into your thigh as the gunslinging ghoul whips around at the sound, eyes wide at the sudden display of spraying crimson. You scream, struggle to try to align the cuffs without jerking your shoulders out of place. The deathclaw bounds into the mid-distance, closing in upon it's approach- it caught your scent before you could even see it's silhouette-

The tip disappears as your leg reflexively jerks, responding to the dancing jig of the chainsaw blade- you see pathetic sparks as the thing bounces off of the cuffs- strong enough to sever a leg, too rusted and battered to cut through metal. Your plan is failing. Your leg is bleeding. The cowboy falters as the deathclaw closes further-

You make a snap decision: fingers are easier to fix than legs.

You twist your wrist, and the pain just melts into the already existing burn emanating from your leg- a bloody, three-fingered stump slips from it's cage, and you swing your still-cuffed hand around in a fluid movement to drag the ripper from its sheath within your leg, snapping the cord that ties it to your waist-

You hear a frenzied firing of a revolver, but the approaching thunks are unimpeded- and though you know your leg may give way when the adrenaline finally dies, and though you know you need to find the two fingers you lost before sand vipers snatch them up and you're known as three-fingered y/n for the rest of your life- you launch yourself from the ground on your good leg, and stagger towards the approaching beast.

You grew up in the wastelands. You grew up in a settlement up here that, like any of the rest, was constantly plagued by critters and beasts- and if you were taught anything by the survivors that surrounded you, it was the following:

If you can't blow the bastard up, get 'em in the belly.

The deathclaw- a baby, thankfully- has it's gaze fixated on the man that had in the past half a minute become it's primary aggressor- so when you stumble forward, low and bleeding, with what to the creature is just another indistinguishable bit of metal in your hands, it does not see reason to change the track of it's jump.

As it launches itself above you, you pray to lady luck that you hit your mark.

An ear-splitting yowl and a sudden muffled crash tells you she's listening, for once.

Finally, after a few ragged breaths, the adrenaline wears off and you feel the weight of your body pressing into the wounds that liberated you- and the blueberry sky fades to black as you become weightless. This time, your fall is of your own accord- and this time, something stops you from hitting the ground.

- °•. ✦ .•° -

When you come to, you do not open your eyes at first- awake though you might be, your body is heavy with exhaustion. Before your encounter with the ghoul, you had been on the run for weeks, and in the last twenty four hours had not had time to stay put long enough to sleep. Coupled with the rough journey and the blood loss, you couldn't move if you wanted to. That being said, in those few dark minutes, a few things of note still catch your attention.

There is a faint crackling to your side, and the lulling warmth of a fire that brushes in waves against your face- and though you feel the silky grains of sand cushioning most of your resting body, your head lays higher up, neck leaning up to a more elevated surface- your attention snaps to the light sensation of fingertips absently grazing your neck in a repeating pattern, and the distant hum of an old country song embedded into muscle memory. The surrounding sensations are a strange comfort for all the brutal imagery this post apocalyptic world usually beholds; but it is brief, as your neck tenses, giving away your lucidity. The hand pauses, lifts- settles somewhere to the side.

When you dare to open your eyes, you are unsurprised to see the question-begging smirk and sharp eyes peering down from above, "Have a good nap?" You bolt upright, and immediately regret it when the bending of your leg snags one of the stitches you didn't know had been sewed into you until just now. Defeated, you flop back down, turning your head to the side to gaze into the dying embers of the fire beside you- praying you can brush off the flush of blush creeping into your face to the influence of the fire. Eventually you garner the courage to speak, "Feels like I've only been out for an hour." He snorts, shaking his head, "You went down around sunset, and it'll be sunrise in a couple hours." This catches you by surprise, and not just because of the amount of time you've lost, "What happened to getting your caps as soon as possible? Lost a lot of time waiting." He frowns, but does not lose his grin, "You trying to get yourself killed? 'Cos you've done a damn fine job of that so far. No, I've just been doing some thinking." "Congratulations. I'm proud of you." His eyes narrow into slits and he tuts at your sarcasm, following your gaze into the fire, "See, it could be argued that I would've been minced ghoul splattered n' buried six feet under the dunes if you hadn't gone all psycho slicing yourself up like that to get that baby deathclaw where it hurts." "That was a baby?-" "Anyway, guess my point is I might be willing to do a lot of things, but I still got my principles- only human thing I got left, probably. So I'd say I owe it you to not kill you at least. When you can walk, we'll go east to- well, to what's left of Shady Sands, and then you can do whatever the fuck you want."

You consider his words, and not knowing how to express appreciation or what to begin to make of this mysterious stranger and his obscure appeal, you find yourself rejecting this suggestion, though you don't know why- and so naturally, you dig yourself into a hole, "Well, you could also say that I would have died of blood loss if you didn't stitch my leg up." He studies you then for a minute, before shrugging and clasping your hands together at the wrists. You begin to stammer indecipherable protest and with a smirk he pulls you up, your hands still held rigid in your lap by his own, his head resting on your shoulder as he murmurs, "Now, I'm starting to get the impression you want me to march you up to our friends at the brotherhood just to keep my company." If he can't see the warm hue in your face now, he can certainly feel the heat flushing through your flustered face- you fight against the feeling, if only to make sure you stand a chance of winning this little exchange,

"Says the man who watched me sleep all night." You feel him shrug your comment off as his grin extends, "I might look like a monster, but I was a gentleman once upon a time. Like I say, I got principles." He lets you slip forward out of his grasp when you move to shuffle yourself around. As you do, you feel for the first time you are looking at him properly, sincerely- face to face, on equal grounds, with no threats of death or necessary facades of false confidence. After soaking in as much as you allow yourself to without losing yourself to curiosity entirely, you crossing your arms across your chest, and reply,

"Well, I have principles too- and if you're oh so graciously not turning me into the brotherhood then I still I owe you, so I guess I'll just have to stick around until you nearly get yourself killed again- that's all. No other reason." The ghoul rises, resting a hand on his pistol,

"You tell yourself that, darlin'- I'm gonna enjoy this change of scenery, I think."

[the-gadabout-gander]

Don Rosa tree this, Carl Barks tree that, what about the Dell Giant Tree from Family Fun

[fantasykiri5]

Hermit-A-Day May, day one: EEFO!

His fit is so atrocious. He’s one of my favorites to draw.

Event/Challenge by @hermitadaymay !!

[vhscorp]

Nous cherchons tous à oublier nos blessures, et c’est bien légitime, mais sachons ne jamais oublier les leçons qu’il convient d’en tirer…

V. H. SCORP

[nicoscheer]

Happy 38th Birthday to our silly idiot Alex Turner

[sholmeser]

[badnewswhatsleft]

11 beat it mv - commentary (full band)

[aewmoves]

[dilf-in-peril]

[hggsbury]

@enchiiridion liked for a starter.

The sights and sounds of Spirale were unlike anything Wilson had seen before. Being a man who preferred his solitude , before he entered the constant he tried to avoid bigger cities. But this ? This was unlike anything he could’ve ever imagined. It was overwhelming. He was used to the silence that came with isolation. The sounds of nature and the soft murmur of the other survivors talking were what he was used to. Not the sound of a large crowd ── a cacophony of voices all at once.

Maybe he’s not cut out for civilization. He finally ducks into a small building , sighing in relief as the sounds become muffled when the door shuts behind him. What he didn’t take into account , however , was the fact that there would be other people inside the building. And after few steps through the door ( Wilson will admit that he wasn’t looking where he was going , a mistake on his part ) he runs head first into someone. How very unbecoming of him.

❛ Ah , my deepest apologies ! ❜ He says quickly , on the borderline of being panicked. ❛ Are you alright ? ❜

[gebo4482]

DEVIL MAY CRY

Official Announcement

[glimmerofawesome]

[baptism-inblood]

me as a kid seeing that my strange addiction episode abt the carsexual guy: he. loves his car? wants to be in a relationship with it? huh. hm. lets the idea sit in the back of my head for 11 years.

me at 25 owning my own car and being an objectum/objectophile: ah. yeah. i get it now,

[newsintheshell]

NETFLIX DROP 01: TRAILER, ANNUNCI E ANTEPRIME DEL NUOVO EVENTO ONLINE

Devil May Cry, Tomb Raider e Blue Eye Samurai fra le grandi soprese arrivate durante la premiere live di Castlevania Nocturne!

Ve lo avevo anticipato e non poteva quindi farsi attendere il riassuntone del primo DROP 01 di Netflix, lo speciale evento virtuale in diretta streaming su YouTube e Twitch, imbastito per unire il watch party in anteprima di Castlevania: Nocturne e qualche breve ma gustoso sneak peek di alcune novità, lato animazione, attualmente in cantiere.

Purtroppo riguardo a Pluto siamo stati scammati, non hanno fatto vedere nulla di nuovo. Hanno semplicemente ripassato il trailer spaccamascella uscito un paio di mesi fa.

Tutto sommato, però, è stata un'ora e mezza piacevole, fra episodi - che non sono riuscito a seguire al verso, se non a spezzoni ahimè - e brevi teaser e showcase di merchandise vari. Un evento dal formato leggero, informale e conciso, che mi piacerebbe si ripetesse sinceramente.

Capisco che eventi più corposi come la Geeked Week e TUDUM siano maggiormente attesi in generale, ma le presentazioni in pillole, a mio modo di vedere, sono decisamente più fruibili e, appunto, più efficaci.

🔶🔸DEVIL MAY CRY

Cominciamo con un primo annuncio MOTIVAZIONALE (*wink wink*). Dante, Vergil e Lady di nuovo in versione animata, 8 episodi, più stagioni in programma.

La sceneggiatura è stata concepita da Adi Shankar (Castlevania) and Alex Larsen (Yasuke), mentre il tutto porta la firma di STUDIO MIR (The Legend of Korra, Dota: Dragon's Blood, The Witcher: Nightmare of the Wolf).

🔶🔸SONIC PRIME

Mostrato un teaser che annuncia una terza stagione per la serie con protagonista il celebre riccio di SEGA. Ad un'occhiata da profano, ha tutta l'aria di una grandissima cutscene, ma non sembra male.

Non sono però mai stato un fan di Sonic, quindi skipponi. Go next.

🔶🔸CAPTAIN LASERHAWK: A BLOOD DRAGON REMIX

Altra produzione targata Adi Shankar, questa volta in mano allo studio BOBBYPILLS, che la chat di Twitch ha subito categorizzato come Suicide Squad made in Ubisoft e la chat di Twitch ha sempre ragione :v

Fra ultraviolenza in stile retro anni '90 e ironia, questo spinoff dello spinoff di Far Cry 3 (ci hanno infilato pure Rayman!!) sembra vare le carte in regola per rivelarsi una visione divertente. Il trailer ci dà appuntamento per il 19 ottobre.

🔶🔸BLUE EYE SAMURAI

A quanto pare questo progetto era inizialmente comparso per la prima volta nel 2020, ma me lo devo essere perso.

Nata da un'idea dei coniugi Amber Noizumi e Micheal Green (Logan, Blade Runner 2049), è stata sostanzialmente presentata come una "storia di vendetta nel periodo Edo - Kill Bill incontra Yentl".

Come biglietto da visita è intrigante, ma ammetto che la trama di base mi ha lasciato con qualche dubbio. In sostanza, la nostra protagonista in cerca di vendetta, è una meticcia con gli occhi azzurri e per questo viene discriminata e trattata come una "creatura della vergogna". Le frontiere del Giappone sono ancora chiuse e razzismo e misoginia sono di casa, quindi che fare? Ci si traveste da uomo e si va a sbudellare gaijin finché non si trova quello che è tuo padre, l'occidentale che ti ha resa diverss e reietta dalla nascita. Ok...?

La serie, che arriverà in streaming il 3 novembre, a livello tecnico e di atmosfera si presenta molto bene comunque, quindi vedremo. Giudicate voi, ecco il treailer.

🔶🔸SCOTT PILGRIM

Non ce la fate ad aspettare il 17 novembre per vedere la versione animata, in stile SCIENCE SARU (The Tatami Time Machine Blues, The Heike Story), del famoso fumetto di Bryan Lee O'Malley? Eccovi una clip in anteprima allora.

🔶🔸MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE: REVOLUTION

Clip in anteprima anche per la nuova serie di He-Man e i Dominatori dell'Universo, che approderà sulla piattaforma nel 2024.

Pu confermando una vaga continuità con gli eventi della divisiva Masters of the Universe: Revelation, la serie è stata presentata ufficialmente come standalone, suggerendo un qualche tipo di correzione di rotta riguardo alla narrativa.

🔶🔸TOMB RAIDER: THE LEGEND OF LARA CROFT

E dulcis in fundo, anche sul gran finale abbiamo chiuso con il botto, con l'adattamento animato di un'altra storica icona videoludica: Lara Croft!

Preannunciata un paio di anni fa, ma anche qua io non ne ho alcun ricordo, la serie si ispira alla trilogia reboot di Crystal Dynamics (Tomb Raider, Rise of the Tomb Raider e Shadow of the Tomb Raider).

In programma per il 2024, è prodotta in casa Powerhouse Animation (Castlevania, Masters of the Universe: Revelation).

Per chi si fosse perso la premiere in anteprima e volesse comunque un assaggino di Castlevania: Nocturne, nel mentre aspetta di poter maratonare la prima stagione (vi ricordo che esce domani by the way), ecco i primi sette minuti della prima puntata in omaggio.

Quel poco che sono riuscito a vedere, non mi è dispiaciuto affatto, ma la sensazione che ho avuto è stata quella di una serie molto introduttiva, con in mente un arco narrativo da sviluppare potenzialmente su più stagioni e che quindi potrebbe risultare un po' lentina e all'acqua di rose. Per ora mi mantengo curioso.

⫸ NON VUOI PERDERTI NEANCHE UN POST? ENTRA NEL CANALE TELEGRAM!⫷

Autore: SilenziO))) Se usate Twitter, mi trovate lì! 

blogger // anime enthusiast // twitch addict // unorthodox blackster - synthwave lover // penniless gamer // INFJ-T magus

[FONTE]