#Don't hate the player hate the game
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hotgirlbedtimescenarios · 5 months ago
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Winner Takes All
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Pairing: Javier Peña x seductress!reader
Words: 3.7k
Summary –  As a con artist, you’re always looking for your next victim; tonight, it's Javier Peña. He falls for your game, but somewhere along the way, you fall for his good looks and charm. Although he's been seduced, he has a few tricks up his sleeve as well and leaves you more than satisfied for the night.
Warnings: 18+, adult content, smut, lying, stealing, gold-digging, alcohol
Main Masterlist
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Having just finished scoping out the lounge, you sit at the bar occupying the entire back wall of this particular casino. Like every other casino on the Las Vegas strip, this one has a similar dark and smoke-hazed ambiance.
The opulent, golden chandeliers above only emit the dimmest amount of light, and the rest comes from the flash of machines and table lamps at blackjack tables and the occasional flickering neon sign hung around the room.
"Pomegranate martini," you order when the bartender acknowledges your presence. He nods and turns to the ceiling-high shelf of alcohol and glasses to begin concocting your drink.
As you wait, you sigh and turn back to look over the room. Like most Saturday nights, you've done well for yourself. Each unsuspecting victim has played right into your hands, per usual. You see similar easy pickings in this room, scattered among the card tables and slot machines.
Drunk older men, the ones slurring their words and pawing at every beautiful woman they see. Obsessed with spending money they shouldn't and flaunting the gambling prowess they think they have in hopes of seducing a younger, much sexier woman to be their arm candy for the night.
You play along, assuming your persona as a doting, sexy, air-headed seductress. It's a fine line you walk, carrying yourself with enough dignity and elegance to attract the most wealthy targets while not appearing too keen and clever to hurt their tiny little egos or have them suspect you of being a swindler.
Although that's exactly what you are.
A seductress, a vixen, a succubus, or whatever term is preferred. You don't feel guilty; you actually think you're doing them a favor and saving these pompous assholes from some other girl who goes for the long con, marrying them and divorcing them only to steal half their life, pretending actually to care for them.
Instead, you keep them company for the night, laughing along to all their stupid jokes, pretending you might sleep with them even though you know you won't. They often are too wasted to get it up in the event of hooking up anyway, but you don't care; you never sleep with them. Suckers.
The bartender places your martini glass in front of you, and you thank him, flashing a smile and handing over a generous amount of cash. "Keep the change," you say, sultry and low, the same voice you've used on all the other men tonight. He winks and walks away, but not before his eyes drag across your body, a flash of desire sparking in their depths.
You're used to it, especially tonight in your favorite black silk gown with a high slit that falls to your mid-thigh—the fabric clings to your frame, showing off your figure. The top's deep v exposes the perfect amount of cleavage and the smooth expanse of your chest adorned with your favorite thin, silver, diamond pendant necklace. Paired with your dangling silver earrings and jet-black stilettos, you must admit, you look stunning.
By now, it's nearly 1:30 am, and you're bored of drunk old men staring at your tits and bragging about who knows what, words slurring, and hands wandering.
Tonight, you want a challenge, some entertainment, and maybe even some real flirting. You've already snagged a few nice watches, been treated to a Michelin star meal, and have an enormous wad of cash in the purse slung around your shoulder. You look too good not to let yourself indulge a little tonight.
You look around the bar, searching for your next plaything. Your eyes drift past countless clusters of drunk men on bachelor trips, sugar babies hanging off the arms of a few wealthy-looking older men, and numerous unremarkable strangers.
Then, you spot a dark, tanned, gorgeous man. You watch him excuse himself from a blackjack table and strut to the opposite end of the bar. He walks with smooth confidence, obviously not plastered like most other patrons by this time of night. His tall frame leans against the bar, elbows bent, causing his muscles to bulge against the buttoned shirt he wears.
He motions to the bartender, who takes his order and reappears shortly after with a cigar. You watch the man take the cigar between his plush, pouty lips and hold it there as he lights the other end. He inhales, then tips his head back and exhales the smoke slowly, exposing his tan, muscled neck and chiseled jaw.
Him. That's the man you choose to take from tonight: his money, his attention, maybe even some pleasure.
The trick is to let them come to you. Make them feel like it's their idea, like you're the prey, and they are the ones who picked you and not the other way around—a little game of cat and mouse.
You sit up a little taller and cross your legs, your body facing forward toward the bar, but you turn your head ever so slightly. Gazing curiously at the cigar between his fingers, you tilt your head and throw on the best set of doe eyes you can muster. Then you wait.
Hook.
You wait a few moments as the man takes another drag of the cigar and exhales. He finally notices your eyes on him. His eyes glance in your direction, and before you can tear your eyes away fast enough, you make eye contact briefly. You'd been "caught" staring.
You offer up a shy, barely there smile and lower your eyes to your drink as you allow a feint blush to spread across your cheeks.
Although you are now staring at the contents of your martini glass, pretending to be embarrassed, you can see the man analyzing you out of your peripheral.
He does a slow, steady sweep of your body from head to toe. Dragging his dark brown eyes across your skin, drinking you in, and apparently liking what he sees, he quirks a brow and smirks a little to himself.
Line.
You pick up the martini glass before you, long, delicate fingers wrapped around the stem, and bring it to your lips. Slowly, you tilt your head back to finish the last bit of your drink, exposing the long swath of your neck, and swallow.
Oh no. A beautiful woman, alone at the bar, with nothing left to drink. How terrible. It sure would be nice if a handsome stranger across the bar came to your rescue.
As you set your empty glass back on the bar, out of the corner of your eye, you see that man has the same idea, and he walks your way.
Sinker.
What a sucker, you think to yourself. It takes everything in you to clamp down on the chuckle that wants to slip out. He struts up to you and sits on the barstool next to you, cigar still smoking between his fingers.
"Hope you don't mind," he says, velvety and smooth. Up close, you have a better view of his sultry eyes and the full mustache perched above full lips.
Oh. That's nice, you think to yourself.
"Not at all," you respond, then tease, "Actually, I'm curious. Do you smoke those to look pretentious, or do they taste better than they smell?"
A glint of something sparks deep within his dark eyes, a challenge, and he lets out a small, breathy laugh. "Both."
"Finally, an honest answer," you smile playfully.
"Let me get you another drink, and I'll tell you anything else you want to know, sweetheart."
"Deal," you agree, "thanks..." you pause, waiting for him to introduce himself.
"Javier or Javi if you want. And you are?"
"Alessandra," you answer, one of your go-to fake names. You can never be too careful playing games like this.
Javier buys you both a round, then another. Both of you flirt and tease as the night goes on, and you find the distance between you much smaller before long.
"So, can I have a taste or what?" you ask, staring suggestively at his lips.
His eyebrow quirks up immediately, and his mouth begins to open, but before he can respond to what sounds like a filthy proposition, you motion to the last bits of his cigar. He pauses, eyes darkening, and he clears his throat.
With a voice more strained than before, he answers, "I'll give you anything you want, Hermosa.
He extends the cigar between the two of you to hand it off, but instead of taking it into your fingers, you wrap your lips around the unlit end. Inhaling, you raise your eyes to make contact with his; as you hollow out your cheeks and inhale, you swear you hear a growl rumble in his chest.
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You don't remember exactly how it happened after that, but here you are, back pressed against his hotel room door. One of Javier's hands kneads your hip while the other fumbles with the key card, trying to unlock the door and usher you inside. His body presses against yours, smothering you in his warmth, and his lips travel down your neck hungrily. Finally, the door unlocks, and he pulls you inside.
The door slams shut, and in a frenzy, you begin tearing each other's clothes off amidst kissing, moaning, and groping. Your hands have fistfuls of his dark, gorgeous hair as he slips one strap off your shoulder and then the other. Your silky black dress falls to the floor, and you peel off your delicate lace thong.
"Fuck," he breathes as his eyes sweep down your naked body. Javier's hands travel up your waist, across your stomach, and palm at your breasts.
He squeezes one gently as he takes the opposite nipple into his mouth and flicks his tongue over it, drawing out a whimper from you. You relish the feeling before he releases it with a pop and sucks the other one into his mouth, running his tongue over it as well.
When he's done, he drags his tongue from your nipple, up your chest, along your neck, and ends at your ear, his nose and mustache tickling you along the way. Your legs tense, and your insides pulse at the sensation.
Hungrily, you unbutton the rest of his shirt, finally exposing his toned, golden chest, and toss it onto the floor. Javier wraps his arms around you, leading you backward toward the bed. When the back of your knees contacts the mattress, he gently lowers you onto your back onto the plush surface.
You move to flick off your black stilettos, but Javier kneels between your legs, and with a hand on your ankle, he stops the motion. "Keep those on for me, baby."
Your stomach flips at the sultry command, and you obey, relaxing against the mattress. Still knelt between your legs, Javier's hands rub up the back of your calves, over the top of your thighs, and stop in between them, just below the apex.
He spreads your legs apart, revealing your soaked, glistening cunt. "Goddamn," he moans, so needy it sounds almost painful," let me taste you," he begs. "Please."
"Yes, Javi. Please," you pant, body writhing with desire at his hot breath tickling against your core as he begs you.
His grip on your thighs tightens as he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed so he can lean forward and bury his face in your cunt. He begins with a slow, broad swipe of his tongue up your center, gathering the slickness and moaning into you.
Your head throws back, and a groan escapes from somewhere deep in your chest. His tongue swipes back and forth between your folds, and above, his pronounced nose presses against your clit, sending a wave of pleasure rolling through your body. He eats you, slow and steady, almost agonizingly, as he takes his time, tasting you and feeling you.
You squirm beneath his hands. "Please," you pant, "more. I need more."
"Is this what you need, baby?" he asks, taunting, as he pulls his face away to replace his tongue with his middle finger. When you look up between your legs, you meet his gaze, wild-eyed and heavy with blown pupils that stare down at you. He traces his finger down your center, then finally plunges it inside you, eliciting a high-pitched whimper.
"Yeah, that's right," he purrs, " feels good, doesn't it?"
"Yes" is all you manage to breathe out.
He continues, extracting more and more of your slick until it drips messily down his finger and across his palm. His pace quickens when he adds his ring finger, adding new pressure and sensation.
By now, you are begging for release; a light sheen of sweat coats your skin, and your muscles feel liquid. As if he can sense it, Javi crooks his fingers, finally hitting a spot inside you that has you barreling towards release.
"There it is," he purrs, soft and tender. "Come on, baby, give it to me."
Your heart pounds like it wants to escape, and your breath comes out jagged and labored. The only response you have for him is the squirming of your hips and the clenching of sheets in your fists.
Then, to push you careening off the edge of release, he pumps faster, harder, and brings his mouth to your clit, coating it in the warmth of his mouth, and sucks.
The band snaps. Your back arches off the bed, and your head rolls back. Unrelenting, he massages you through it, extracting a trickle of warmth that coats his fingers, lips, and mustache. Your insides pulse and a tingle reaches every fiber of muscle within you.
Finally, your muscles relax, and you lay flat against the bed, panting. Javi stands and leans over you, observing. His pupils are blown wide with lust, and his chin glistens with your spend.
He leans closer and whispers, "I could watch you do that all night."
"I'd let you," you answer before closing the distance between you with a kiss. You can taste yourself on him, mixed with the hearty tang of a cigar. It causes something to begin stirring inside of you all over again.
"Is that right?" He smirks.
You're hungry for him, eager to taste him like he tasted you. Dragging your hands down across his chest and down his abdomen, you finally reach the button of his jeans.
"My turn," you say as you undo the button and begin to slide down his jeans and briefs all at once. His hard cock springs free, dripping with his own juices. The sheer size of it has your mouth watering. His member is thick and long, with a prominent vein running along the bottom to this dense, heady tip.
Javi kicks his jeans and briefs onto the floor while you trade places with him. Now, he sits perched on the edge of the mattress, fully naked, thick thighs spread so you can slot yourself between them on the floor. You kneel between them, ready to worship.
Knelt before him, you look up to meet his lust-filled stare, his eyes dark and needy. You reach up toward his rock-hard member erect before you and graze a finger across his tip, featherlight.
He whimpers, a filthy desperate sound as you caress his tip, making his cock twitch as you gather his precum on your fingertip and swipe down to the base of his cock.
You smile, a smug, filthy grin pulling up the corner of your lips, "Sounding desperate up there, Javi," you tease him.
A growl emanates from his chest, surely about to put you in your place, but before he can, you lean forward and flatten your tongue against the base of his cock before licking a slow strip up to his tip.
He releases a hiss from between clenched teeth when you circle his leaking tip with the pad of your tongue. Then, without warning, you open your throat and take him all the way down to his base. You gag around his massive length, saliva dripping inside your mouth and coating him in slick.
"Jesus,” he moans somewhere above you, “fuck."
After a moment, you release him, taking in a big gulp of air. "So big," you praise him as you finally wrap a hand around him and start to pump his shaft, already slick with the mixture of your saliva and his precum. It squelches in your grip, a perverted sound that only eggs you on.
With one hand pumping and applying pressure, you take his tip back into your mouth again, sucking and swirling your tongue around him.
Javi leans forward and places his hand on the back of your skull, gently praising you, "Goddamn baby, love your perfect little mouth wrapped around my cock."
You work him with the combination of your hand and mouth for a while, drawing out groans and watching him squirm beneath you while you bob up and down.
Using your free hand, you reach up to cup his balls and give them a gentle squeeze, caressing them in your hand. A guttural sound leaves Javis's open mouth as he gathers your hair in his hand and yanks your mouth from his painfully hard member.
You grin at him, sinful, and eyes heavy-lidded with lust as a mixture of his juices and your saliva dribble down your chin.
"I'm going to fuck that grin right off your face," he threatens.
And he does.
He positions you on all fours on the bed, heels still on, poking outwards as he climbs onto the bed behind you. He rises to his knees, slots in between your legs, and enters you in one fluid motion, thrusting so hard that your heels fly off and clatter to the floor.
His large, rough hands gripping your waist and pounding into you, the smack of his pelvis against your ass, along with the squelching of your wet pussy filling the room.
You whine out in ecstasy, only spurring him on further. The length of him reaches the further depths of you, blurring between pain and pleasure but never crossing the line; it hurts so good.
Between huffs of breath and a clenched jaw, he taunts you, "Your tight little pussy was begging for a good fuck wasn't it?"
His filthy words only send you careening further into pleasure. Your legs begin to shake, alerting him that it won't last much longer.
"Fuck yes," he reaches around, and his fingers circle your clit until you cry out and a second orgasm rips through you.
Ravenously fucks you through it. His thrusts speed up unrelentingly as he finally chases his own high, grabbing your neck from behind and pressing your face into the pillows.
At the last second, he pulls out, leaving your hole gaping and throbbing but already missing the way he filled you. He releases his spend on your back, gripping his cock and pumping out every last drop.
Then he does the unexpected.
You hear Javier shuffle to the bathroom as you lay face down on the sheets, still recovering from the exertion. Moments later, he returns to you with a fresh washcloth, first wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes and the slick gathered around your mouth; then he cleans the inside of your thighs and your back so gently compared to moments ago.
"You all right," he asks, voice softer and kinder than it was in the throes of passion.
"Great, actually," you smile up at him mischievously.
He leans in and kisses you on the shoulder, then tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ears, "Stay as long as you'd like."
You go to the bathroom and freshen up; when you come out, he's sprawled underneath the sheets and shoots you a lazy smile, waving you forward to join him.
You slide into bed with him, and Javier holds you against his body underneath the sheets, rubbing his hand up and down the smooth contours of your body until, before long, he falls asleep.
You lie with him for a while, oddly finding comfort in the sleepy breaths that escape his lips and tickle the hair on the back of your neck. However, once you're sure Javi is asleep, you carefully extract yourself from his arms and tip-toe around the room to gather your clothing and redress.
If you're honest with yourself, you almost feel guilty about what you must do next. But it's back to your usual business now.
Quickly and quietly, you find Javier's wallet in the back pocket of his jeans, which you'd stripped off him earlier and discarded on the floor.
Typically, you'd take the entire thing, leaving nothing behind, not even its empty carcass, but you decide to play nice this time. After all, Javier may have just given you the best two orgasms of your life and was a gentleman after the fact, cleaning you up and cuddling you in bed. You must admit, he fucks hard and aftercares like an angel; what a man.
With your heels in your hands, you sneak out of his hotel room. In the purse slung over your shoulder, you have an extra couple hundred dollars from Javis' wallet.
It was an excellent payday, especially considering you'd left him $20, his leather wallet, and even the nice watch he had resting on the dresser. After all, you'd genuinely enjoyed your night together, so you decided to be kind. Plus, you'd seen some police bade in his wallet, so you decided not to piss him off too bad.
The hotel room door clicks closed behind you, and you walk down the hallway. When the elevator dings, you enter the carriage and press the button to carry you to the lobby.
Just before the doors slide shut, you hear a voice, the same one that has been purring in your ear all night, yell, "fuck!" as he realizes he fell for your game.
Javier Peña just got swindled. But hey, at least you’d given him a good time, and something tells you he’s probably paid even more for a night with a woman before. It’s only fair that you get the same, right?
You're still smirking when you leave the casino lobby and disappear into the crowded street.
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more-francho · 1 year ago
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I wanna propose some silly ideas for the final sketch about the "Anthony's death" arc, just because Christmas it's in 2 weeks and I love the old smosh holiday sketches.
Ofc this one it's about a sad lonely Ian who's only wish is to have his bestie back.
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The Christmas morning...
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This final part it's mostly my desire 🤝
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jomprowley · 10 months ago
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ross save some for the rest of us goodness gracious 🙄🙄 greedy as hell
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wearevillaneve · 2 years ago
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I feel ya.
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candont · 26 days ago
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bonsaiiiiiii · 4 months ago
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mom I can explain,,,it's International Rescue 🥺
link for the template:
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bugworldcomic · 1 month ago
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bug world pg 29
YUP YUUUUUUP
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javaghoul · 4 months ago
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i love eBay's Make An Offer option, but sometimes I feel guilty when the seller accepts.
"Oh look at that listed for £20... Make an offer, huh? Ok"
"I will offer you 99 PENCE, merchant."
Sometimes I wonder if they've read the decimal point wrong.
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nervosims · 1 year ago
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I guess she's tryna cram more in there.
BROKEJAW: week five
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parishthethought · 2 years ago
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The girlfiend as we’re making out, feeling me get hard, in a voice that’s about equal parts starry-eyed ingenue and Dickensian orphan: “cock penis?”
(She says I’m only allowed to put this on tumblr if I also inform you that she has a very chadly jawline.)
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madrigaljail · 2 years ago
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Anyway canon gave us FIFTY YEARS of fill-in-the-blank of course some people are going to fixate on that.
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documentingcha · 2 years ago
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A bit sad the 2023 Eurovision season is over and let's be honest a bit disappointed with how things are turning ... Is the negativity necessary?
This may not be coherent reasoning but at the end of the day the results still stay the same, Loreen won and kuddos to her she's still a legend I know it's sad for Jere (i absolutely adore him I gave him my 1800pts) but he still somehow became a Eurovision icon throughout all that and he'll for sure be celebrated every year now so can we just appreciate every artists work and performance and stop picking at them now that it's all over?
Sure the voting process should probably evolve, and by that I personally mean a shift in the professional juries - but that would be a long topic to discuss on. At the end the juries did their thing and us as televoters did ours and the results - as controversial as they could be - are here so yeah no one's ever gonna be satisfied with the outcome anyway
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themmatennant · 3 months ago
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my immaculate setup
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bixels · 3 months ago
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In the past, people in the Animal Crossing community would make fun of Tom Nook as a sleazy landlord. Since then, he's really rehabilitated his image as this 'heart of gold' businessman (he's the one who puts bells and furniture in trees for you to find! he adopted orphans! he donates to charity!), but New Horizons genuinely paints the most devious version of him.
He's successfully privatized settler colonialism: you pay HIM to move to a "deserted island" (which apparently the oceans in the AC world are just full of) and start a colony that he is directly invested in. At best he's running a weird vacation package scam (you arrive on the island with no money and in debt for "using his services"). At worst, he's using you to set up company towns. For god's sake, he literally has his own fake currency that he forces you to use to pay off your debt. But don't worry, he's repackaged it in a way that definitely doesn't sound like an MLM scam: the Nook Mileage Program!
You're no longer just his tenant or his temporary part-timer, you're his business lackey. The entire tutorial section of the game has you spending actual weeks running around completing tasks and doing hard labor to set up his colony. You're even tasked with preparing his properties and finding buyers for them. No, you aren't a tenant anymore. You work for the landlord. You are directly responsible for finding tenants for him. And he doesn't even fucking pay you. Not for setting up town hall and museum, or his nephew's shop –– which is the ONLY store on the entire island that sells necessities –– or bringing KK Slider to town, or helping populate his town. Not a single cent. No, actually, you have to pay HIM to BUY infrastructure like bridges and stairs and park benches. And all the while, he's telling you're the "resident representative"; you get to call the shots! That the reward is the community's progress. That what you're doing is in everyone's best interest (but most importantly, his).
Since NH's release, people have done a lot of legwork to say that Tom Nook isn't a capitalist while the game shows him at his very worst. He owns the only general store in town. You're forced to use a phone that he modified and branded as his own. Buy Nook-branded furniture and merchandise at the self-serve kiosk in the town hall, a governmental building! There's no conflict of interest here!
But hey, if you're tired of being the landlord/business mogul's goon, you can also find work as a deluxe resort home designer for a company that also pays you in their special company currency that can only be used to buy their products instead of a real salary! Because that's what the Animal Crossing franchise needs! More vacation homes!!!
#this is a really long winded way to say i really really really really hate new horizon's storyline and player role#i really hate that not only your house but the entire TOWN. the whole COMMUNITY you're a part of is owed to tom nook's business#i really hate the “vacation getaway package” angle because it shows just how commercialized the entire premise of nh is#and how lost the game is in its original core concept#animal crossing is about the experience of moving to a new town and becoming a part of that community#just to compare: all past ac games have a similar opening#you're on a bus or train or taxi to someplace new. a stranger strikes up a conversation and you get to know them before arriving#new horizons opens with you at customer service desk filling out an client application before a flight.#in prev games working for nook in the tutorial is meant to be demeaning. you want it to be over with so you can actually start living life#but in new horizons working for tom nook IS your life. and it's so rewarding! don't you feel rewarded?#you aren't a person. you aren't a new neighbor. you're tom nook's client. and then his unpaid employee. and the game insists it's fun to be#that's how void the game is#because it's bad enough that a rpg life sim got turned into a sandbox game where you have to build the town yourself#but the only reason why you're building it is because the landlord who you're in debt to TOLD you to build it.#everything is a rewards program! everything is a tour service! be sure to do your daily tasks to earn nook bucks to spend on nook merch!#that really sucks imo.#i mean. the entire game is based around the vacationing industry. of course it all feels fake and temporary. it's only a vacation.#long post#rant#not art#god the fact that your starter villagers can't even decide where to live you have to decide for them#i've never played a game that does the opposite of handholding#where instead it's the PLAYER who has to handhold the npcs through everything. and newsflash!! it's really exhausting and boring
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booty-bolshevik-pig · 2 years ago
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Reblog if you thought there *was* no twin sister until the end of the movie and Miss Janelle's character was just doing a SUPER elaborate vengeance drama plotline because she was ALWAYS the real genius in that partnership.
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Janelle Monáe and Daniel Craig. 
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mohntilyet · 2 months ago
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let me be clear i like veilguard but it does suck that no one disapproves anymore outside of like. three choices. i want to be fighting for my life earning approval back again someone has GOT to hate my ass. i should be careful about party composition and companion reactions again. i miss tactically taking fenris out of the party before i'm nice to merrill like those were the days
#please omg can someone hate my ass . not really. but in previous games it sometimes did feel like i was earning approval back#like a. 'even when we fight i still love you. don't forget that' way . i wanted some uphill battle and dav IS super sanitised#the difference is more staggering to old players than new ones. i think dav plays rly well for someone who doesnt know the franchise#but i keep asking questions like 'should the dalish not be more worried about solas/etc' 'the crows r not this nice'#'why wouldnt isabela ask about varric' 'there should probably be more fantasy racism here'#of course these r the devs who were slandering zevran weeks before release. however its also just. man.#I AM ENJOYING THE GAME THOUGH. just wish it had a bit (a lot) more relevance and respect to what its built up in the prev games#dragon age#dav spoilers#veilguard spoilers#dav#txt#like for example i think one of my favorite small writing moments is cass asking about the inquisitor's family in dai#where she approves if you are also estranged but disapproves if you say you want to go back#because for a split second she does not just see a so called 'herald' that she's forced to work with#it's someone just like her who never got along w their family and despite herself she likes the inquisitor more for it#or it's someone who couldn't be less like her and her dislike and initial mistrust becomes more certain#it just. there's is an amount of depth lost when vg tries this hard to make rook be loved as a default
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