#i know its not that big of a deal but also i just KNOW it's a 'but shes hot and slugs are icky' thing and i hate that

[ninguitar]

꣑ৎ　────　𝓟OP THE HOOD , DA 　　　　　lovin' you long takes the pain away 𓈒𓈒

───﹙⚙️﹚𝓢. ｡｡　a trip to the froyo shop ends up leaving daniela with a broken-down car, but hey—at least she got a pretty girl to fix it!

𝓹airing. daniela avanzini x mechanic!f!r 𝓰enre. fluff wc. 1.9k notes. haiaiaiaiia idk anyt abt cars so take everything that is said abt cars w/ a grain of salt 😛 also thinking ab a part2 but idk !! lmk how yall feel or wtv (MASTERLIST)

now playing ⋆ ballad of a badman by tory lanez

MAYBE IT WAS DUMB LUCK.

daniela just wanted to get froyo on her way home; it shouldn't have to be such a big deal, and it sure didn't need to turn into a shit-show. her mustang was starting fine at first—jamming her keys into the ignition, a grin adorning her face as the engine roared lively. she drove safely, but not even an hour later, she stood at the side of the road, smoke coming out the cabin, and her eyebrows knitted together.

though, maybe her luck wasn't so bad, because barely a block away stood an automechanic shop, flashing the words, "tony's wheels & tires." and when she finally arrived at the shop from pushing her car all the way there, it appeared to be a big open garage with a couple cars parked in the slots—full of grease and strewn equipment, the faint smell of smoke and fuel lingered in the air. the bell above the door chimed every few seconds, the sound of engines running accompanying it.

and the sight of a disheveled you underneath a car, fiddling around with the bottom of it, welcomes daniela. a weary, heavy sigh escapes from your throat, as you mutter curses under your breath, before sliding out from beneath the car. shaking your hand in pain, you grunt, and your other hand jots down words on a yellow notepad frantically with a pen. while you were too immersed in writing down the cost of some repair, the latina slowly walks up to you, and you barely raise your head up—though not enough to spot her clearly.

interrupting your dazed, concentrated expression, daniela clears her throat, and your head shoots up, your expression falling into embarrassment. your eyes wander to the girl above you, and for a second, you stare palpably for a fleeting moment. with heat curling at your cheeks, you begin to fumble your words, "shit—didn't see you come in, sorry. hi, welcome to tony's."

the latina meekly flashes a soft, reassuring smile at you, and god do you look at her like she was the one who put the stars in the sky. "it's fine, i just got here," she murmurs, laughing lightly, as her gaze flickers to the navy blue mechanic's button-up that hugged your frame, her eyes fixating on your bright red name patch. and before you could respond back, a beagle appears at daniela's feet, its ears comically perking up, "hey, move along," you groan, gently shooing it away.

"sorry, 's just the owner's dog—she's usually a recluse, but i guess she just likes you or somethin'," you shake your head, a gentle smile painted on your face, before you raise your eyebrows, "so what can i do for you?" you tilt your head, fixing your gaze at eye-level, as you clutch your hand, sliding your notepad and pen into your pockets.

"my car—it broke down, and it wouldn't start. i tried to pop the hood open, but it started smoking, so i pushed it to the slot over there," she explains meekly, her hands clasped together, before she pointed out to her mustang. your eyebrows furrow, confusion washing over your features.

"you- you pushed it here?" you ask, laughing breathlessly, "christ, you know you could've called us, and we would've towed it, right?" you shake your head, a grin curbing your lips, as a playful glint remains in your eyes.

"i- fuck, you guys do that?" a sigh drifts from daniela's lips at your words, warmth spreading around her cheeks, as she wishes the ground could just swallow her up right now. god, she was embarrassing herself in front of you—an insanely, drop-dead gorgeous girl.

and really, she doesn't think it could get worse until you reassure her, your voice dulcet and coaxing, "yeah, but don't worry 'bout it. i think it's cute that you pushed it all the way here." the unbridled sincerity in your words accompanied by the series of giggles escaping your breath makes her knees buck, her self-restraint crumbling bit by bit. "anyway, i'll take a look at your car. 's the red one, right?"

once she nods, you brush past her, the plethora of keys cluttering your carabiner ringing through the lot. and while you were out there, checking out her car, daniela's gaze wanders around the place—random trinkets of spiderman, portraits, and posters crowd the back of the front desk. a bright red clock sat above the posters, ticking each second, and accompanying it was a sign that read "please ring the bell for service," with the words "don't" scribbled above it. and before she knew it, the door jingles a second time, the bells chiming, as you enter back inside.

your navy blue button-up was completely discarded, now swung over your shoulder, and instead, you had a grease-stained mickey mouse graphic shirt on. a thin line presses onto your lips, and reaching for your notepad in your back pocket, you pop the pen cap off. "your car isn't in such bad shape," you start, trying to alleviate her worries, before writing down on the notepad hurriedly, "your fuel pump's a lil' faulty, and you have a coolant leak." your eyes flicker to the latina, watching her profusely nod, trying to process your words. and continuing, you explain the time it'd take to finish the repair and the cost—the only words, 'not gonna be finished until at least next week,' registering in her head.

daniela huffs in defeat, crossing her arms against her chest, "next week? fuck, that's gonna be awhile," she mutters under her breath, worry lines creasing her forehead. you lean against the counter, shrugging, "i know, i really can't do that much—there's still a lot of cars that need to be fixed before yours," you murmur, a frown jutting at your lips, as you look back at her.

and with your eyes tracing her features, you blink, noticing the latina's tense posture, her fists clenched; you could tell she was visibly nervous. you teeter, as you cock your head, a resigned expression on your face, sighing, "i- i mean, if you wanna stick around for a little, i could, maybe pull some strings. just this once though." at your words, daniela's eyes light up, a fox-bright gleam in her eyes, and the corner of her lips quirking up, as she crosses her arms loosely against her chest, "really? you would do that for me?"

you hum lowly in your throat, nodding your head slowly, and scribbling over words on your notepad, trying to keep your eyes glued to your paper. you nearly go into anaphylactic shock at her smile, as your eyes flicker to her features, "yeah—'course, i'll see what i can do." a toothy smile curbs your lips, and you're so sure you look like an idiot trying to win her over—with a simple repair job at that—but you're just desperate.

you shrug, grabbing your toolbox that had random stickers stuck onto it, from under the counter, as you stroll back out into the lot, the curly-headed girl following you shortly. and noticing your stickers, daniela chuckles, "you must really like spider and mickey mouse, huh?" a teasing smile plays on her lips, as she watches you freeze in your movements, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly.

"you could tell?" you murmur, as you lean over the car hood, pulling the handle up, and popping the hood. you softly hum under your breath, before you look back, the girl standing gingerly while watching you, "you- you can pull up a chair from there if you'd like," you mumble, your hand pointing to the stack of chairs by the window. your eyes darts around the different fuses, biting the inside of your cheek to suppress a.

"what's your name anyway? never got it," you ask, as you check the clogged fuel filter again, your hands moving around meticulously. "daniela," she answers flatly, her eyes shamelessly trailing down your body. your face scowls at the blockages, too lost in looking at every fuse of the car to even notice the latina mindlessly watching you intently.

"you're a lifesaver, you know that?" she cracks up, chuckling, as she watches you concentrate with your eyes all narrowed. you roll your eyes, shaking your head, "been called stuff here and there but never a lifesaver." you tilt your head, a shit-eating grin curling on your lips. she scoffs, shaking her head in response, "i'm sure you're just exaggerating to make me feel special." her gaze flickers to your lips and then back to your eyes.

and for the rest of the repair, silence falls, leaving daniela with her thoughts. while you scrutinize her car, replacing a few things here and there, daniela couldn't help but notice the way your muscles flexed while your chest rose and fell, exasperated grunts escaping your lips every few seconds. synonymously, she couldn't help but chastise herself for gushing over you—a girl she barely knew but a sweet one at that. your eyebrows furrow, the tightness blooming in your chest, as you toss the girl a look over your shoulder, checking up on her, before brushing away a feeble string of sweat on your forehead.

after a good hour, you screw the hood closed, as you turn your head over to look at daniela—the girl practically knocked out on the small chair beside you. a chuckle escapes your breath, before you tap her shoulder, waking her up. "it's all good now. sorry for uh, keeping you out for awhile," you profusely apologize, dropping her keys onto her lap, as you wipe your hands on your rag, leaving your hands awkwardly clinging to your belt loops. a look of pity washes over your features. your heart knocks and knocks out of your chest, as you try to discern her expression, hoping she wasn't too bored.

daniela shakes her head, and with her voice smooth and calm, she drawls out, "it's fine, at least it's done earlier than in a week." it felt as though you were gonna drop dead at her reassuring tone, and in response, you hum, trying to dismiss the heat spreading at the tip of your ears. you lean against the car before fumbling over your words, "you- you can try out the car, see if it works y'know."

the latina nods slowly, "yeah, i'll definitely try that," as she enters the car, twisting her keys with a quick flick into the ignition, and finally does the engine actually rumble to life. you couldn't help but let a smile dance along your features, your arms crossed against your chest, as she rolls down the window.

"how much do i owe you?" she asks in a hushed tone, and you think for a fleeting moment before murmuring in between your teeth, "$30's fine," hoping nobody else could hear—especially when you lowered the bill by more than half of its original price. and in response, daniela furrows her eyebrows, clearly confused at how the price was now suddenly lower, but she nonetheless shook it off, handing you the money.

and before daniela takes off, she winks at you, a grin plastering her face, and you swear your heart squeezes ever-so-tightly that you could combust, melt, and ascend to the heavens. with your cheeks flushed, you take a few steps back, watching the curly-headed drive away from the lot. before you could wave, your coworker—kazuha—teases, "you know you have a fuck ton of cars to fix, and you need to pay the rest of her bill," as she nudges your shoulder.

you huff, sauntering over to the cash register inside, "shut up, it was worth it," you murmur, as you open the register, pulling out your wallet. you narrow your eyes, as you notice words written sloppily with a black marker on one of the bills daniela handed you.

call me, pretty (###)-####-#### - daniela

"can't believe a girl as gorgeous as her wants… whatever you are," kazuha snickers, raising her eyebrow, as the japanese girl flicks your forehead, making you push her playfully in return. you huff, a scowl on your face, before you slip the written bill into your pocket, shoving bills from your own wallet to pay off the rest of daniela's tab. and maybe you did have to work extra shifts to repair the rest of the cars, but you got daniela's number, and that was all that mattered to you right now.

so when you look me in my eyes

will you take some time?

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[tossawary]

I enjoyed a lot about the ending of "Dungeon Meshi" (SPOILERS) but especially its depiction of an ascension to kingship. Laois does become king kind of on a legal technicality, yeah, but it's that PLUS the backing of all of the allies he's made along the way. His claim is kind of tenuous and it's obvious that more powerful nations could probably steamroll him if they choose to violently challenge it, but that would be a big mess that no one really wants to get into right now.

It was just extremely refreshing after recently dealing with some more magical-bloodline-based and divine-right-chosen-one fantasy. Laois gets that tenuous claim to the throne because of stuff that he actually did, but the claim only really goes through because the local community allows it and supports him (not unanimously, for various reasons), ALSO because of stuff that Laios actually did to make them want to do that. Democracy is not suddenly invented because that's not really how this world works (that's not the focus of the story here), the foreign nations involved probably wouldn't respect that kind of move, but even so, monarchy isn't something that goes forward here without other people behind it and behind Laios.

Laois is Just Some Guy with a tenuous claim and a force behind him to solidify that grip to persuade everyone else to go along with it! Which is historically how a lot of "kings" have happened! And it's clear that he has and needs a lot of people around him to actually do the work of governing a country. (There does admittedly end up being a anti-monster demon curse helping Laios's position here, but that's again specific to Laios because of things he did, and that alone wouldn't cut it.) It's neat to actually see that... social balance and maintenance at the forefront of his ascension, which matches all of the ecosystem-related messages throughout the story.

I also enjoyed the fact that Laios Did Not Really Want This and that it happens partially because other characters are yelling at him to grab the opportunity to maintain their nation's crumbling independence. That was funny. He's simultaneously a person with agency, a responsible and skilled leader, and also kind of a figurehead! (But not really that last bit, I know. I mixed my meta and jokes here. Laois chooses to become king to protect the people he cares about and future he wants! He's not actually any kind of puppet ruler, it's just not something he was originally actively seeking to achieve.) It's messy and fun.

[cybergothvox]

Thats excellent to know, thank you for sharing your experiences! And I definitely agree with you.

Its honestly really upsetting how people try to rewrite history like that, as someone else also around at the early stages before kff were a big deal I definitely saw a ton of real kin use these things but I just said idk maybe kff invented it bc it seems impossible to know for sure who used it first but for one it doesnt really matter since real kin do use it, and two tbh real kin using it first honestly makes more sense.

The biggest thing is real kin use it and often are harassed by their own community for it and it can male the community really unwelcoming both for new members who dont know the discourse and for older ones who remember the terms being fine. And I feel like people should care more about preventing harassment and being a welcoming community than if someone 'looks fake'

'I kin x' is less clunky linguistically and we need to stop assuming people are kff just because they use kin as a verb. Its a very natural way to say it and I struggle to phrase it in other ways. In general people need to stop assuming that red flags for kff (such as kin as a verb, and ranking how much they feel their kintypes, saying kinnie) and assuming they definitely are kff. Languages and practices started by kff have been picked up by genuine otherkin especially younger ones who come into the community and dont know how to tell otherkin from kff. They still identify as their kintypes even if they copy kff practices.

People dont come into the community with a community history degree.

[wintergrofyuri]

fuckkkk.. you know how the princess' heart is like. a really big motif. like stabbing her in the heart being the Only way you kill her, wounded wild and fury's exposed heart, the razor's heart being visible inside her metal ribcage, the original princess literally being called the heart of the shifting mound.

well the only times we get to see/hear about the long quiet's heart are 1) when the spectre rips it out with her bare hands and crushes it (metal as fuck btw i love that imagery), and 2) when smitten rips open your ribcage, also bare handed, to show it/give it to the damsel.

WHAT DOES IT MEAN. WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN.

also like. the contrast between those scenes.. spectre taking it for herself vs damsel being offered it.. spectre crushing it like its nothing vs damsel reverently reaching towards it, barely brushing it before we die and dont get to see what she does with it..

and lets go further!! wraith and hea BOTH remove the option of the blade. in wraith its just not there, but in hea the princess has it. theres no basement either. they both deal with themes of agency and actively being denied freedom. theres a dark figure preventing you from being in control of your own body (wraith breaking your ankle and smitten forcing you to stay seated). opportunist and paranoid are there.

my god. I LOVE GORE AS INTIMACY RAAAAAGHGGHG

[letsgobarbs]

The Plant Nanny

Pairing: Javier Peña x Spouse GN!Reader (Modern AU so Javi can have a water tracking app on his phone)

Summary: Javier Peña reminisces about life after quitting the DEA during his struggles with his New Year's Resolution.

A/N: This was written for @beefrobeefcal's New Year, Same Peña January prompt. I wrote this on my laptop and still haven't figured out how to get the little accent on n, best believe I copy-pasted his name everywhere in this fic.

dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Steve is dead. The fucking pendejo died. That little shit. Fuck this.

Javi bit the inside of his lip, there was a strain in his jaw. It shouldn’t affect him like this, he knew that. It was just a plant— and not a real one. Steve the Dandelion was just a virtual creepy little fucker staring up at him with googly eyes constantly whining about being thirsty and emotionally blackmailing him to drink water or he’d die. And now he was dead.

Javier glared down, his eyebrows furrowed, at the little plant with its eyes crossed— still dead. It just wasn’t fair; he had drank water last night, had logged it in to water the little shit too. He braved the cold, and the sleep, leaving the comforting embrace of his partner to go pee a billion fucking times in the night all for Steve, the motherfucking Dandelion, to die on him by morning. 

His sweetheart maintained a sizeable collection of real plants, naming them after their loved ones, believing they could absorb the negativity, misfortune or evil eye for their human namesakes. He looked at Javs, Javi, Javier, Peña and JaviLicious all thriving by the window sill. Their Steve was doing fine too. He disappointedly looked down at virtual Steve. Maybe he should call the real Steve, check in on him and his family, wish them a Happy New Year like the sap he was.

It really wasn’t a big deal. He could just pick another plant in the app, maybe a cactus or a devil’s ivy this time— try again. But something wasn’t settling inside him, there was an odd heaviness in his chest and he must have slept weird last night because there was an ache in his shoulder that was stretching to his neck. And his mouth felt dry even after all the water he had guzzled last night. Most importantly, he felt sad. He hated to disappoint. He had already disappointed so many people in the past— his parents, Lorraine, the women he slept with, his coworkers, and probably a few more people he didn’t even know. He didn’t want to disappoint the love of his life too. 

He had made a commitment to them. A New Year’s Resolution. Javier Peña had never made one of those in his life before. But the second-most embarrassing thing was tying up your spouse in festive red ribbons and rope, like your personal Christmas present, only to then promptly pass out on them, and take the Christmas tree— that they had spent all afternoon decorating together— down with him. The most embarrassing thing, however, had been waking up in the emergency room, with a panicked partner and a worried father by his bed, realising the candy cane flavoured condom was still on his dick and the mintiness of it was stinging him. It had also given him a UTI. 

The doctors had said it was because of dehydration; according to them, he was so dehydrated his body had stopped being able to read the signs and had become less sensitive to water intake. He called bullshit. He had lived years off of booze and cigarettes and he had done just fine. He was doing just fine. He even had excellent skin, as his sweetheart often points out, and dehydrated motherfuckers don’t have that. 

But the incident had scared them— probably because he didn’t wake up immediately. One night they had tearfully told him they wanted to spend a very long, healthy, happy life with him— Javi had giddily reminded them that they were married and that’s what marriage meant. But he had also promised to drink more water as a New Year’s Resolution. He had tried, truly, he had— even when he had to stop, in the middle of thrusting, during sex to go pee. He was mortified, but he kept his word to drink more water. 

“It’s dead, isn’t it.” Javi was startled by the interruption. His sweetheart was leaning against their bedroom entrance looking delightfully mussed in his worn, old green training t-shirt, sleep marks on the side of their face. He knew their skin would be warm and toasty from sleep; Javi wished they would hold him. 

“Yeah… the plant is dead.” And they did hold him, coming up behind him to drape themselves over his back, arms wrapped around him with gentle strokes and soothing pets that told him they knew he was upset about way more than just the plant.

“Hmm… You know they have those drops of life thing in the app that revives the plant?” They gently reminded him. But life didn’t give second chances— there were no drops of life for people who were harmed by his choices. Javi bent his head to ease the ache in his neck, and to also make space for their chin to rest on his shoulder. Instead, his sweetheart started massaging the area that twinged with pain. Always so perceptive.    

“That’s cheating, I’m not a quitter. Gonna do this thing right.” He tells them instead of admitting his thoughts. And Javier Peña wasn’t a quitter. He took quitting as a personal failure and it killed him to do so. It had taken him so long to quit the drug war and Mexico. Sometimes, he still burned with injustice that none of it had made any difference, that his actions had been futile, all those lives lost for nothing. It was the sort of rage and anger he hid behind a mask of apathy, insisting that he was done— that he was through.

But he hadn’t believed himself, and his father hadn’t believed him either. For months, he hadn’t been able to stay at the ranch, unable to stand the sight of those boats transporting drugs across his own backyard. And then he had only felt worse because he was letting his father down with more flighty attitude. 

He would escape to a bigger city under the guise of consulting gigs, interviews, and even for drug education and prevention programs when he was truly desperate— telling kids ‘Don’t do drugs!’ like they would actually listen. Often the words had echoed in his mind, ‘what else is a guy like you gonna do?’ Javier didn’t have an answer, he had never felt so purposeless. 

It was during one of these escapes, he met his cariño at a cafe. They sat at the table next to his, annotating the morning newspaper like they would annotate a book— a big bold ‘DICKHEAD’ over the president’s head with his eyes and mouth crossed out, a heart over some celebrities’ face, another ‘WTF?!?!?! BULLSHIT’ on the margins of some political op-ed. He failed to hold in a chuckle when they had disdainfully clicked their tongue which had caused them to look up at him. Just as he had been poised to apologise, they had abruptly turned to fish out an extra pen, waving it at him in offer along with sliding half of the newspaper closer to him.    

He turns to look at the side profile he had studied and admired for weeks rather than the newspapers— letting the tip of his nose trace their cheekbone up to their temple, smelling their scent mixed with their lotion, soap and shampoo from their shared bath last night. He watched their eyes flutter close, eyelashes gracefully fanning over dark circles that spoke of prolonged exhaustion; eyes still puffy from a lack of sleep. His heart tightened with gratitude and love, he had run his sweetheart ragged this holiday season. He pressed his lips to their skin when he felt his throat had closed around the words he wanted to say, conveying all the love and adoration he felt.  

Those mornings at the cafe had been the brightest part of his day until the shared breakfasts had turned into happy hour drinks and then comforting dinners. It was always easy for him to fall into bed with someone, but it had been so difficult to leave theirs. So Javi simply never left. Which didn’t mean he hadn’t been a colossal idiot at times. The very look in their eyes had terrified him, his sweetheart was not one to hide their feelings and theirs had been apparent very early on, even with him constantly pulling away and drawing boundaries. 

He was always so afraid he would never measure up to that look in their eyes, it filled him with endless anxiety. He had been so sure that they would realise he wasn’t worthy of the love that poured forth from those eyes— eventually, they would stop looking at him that way once they realised what a disappointment he was. He also didn’t believe he could love so openly and wholly. How wrong he had been. 

Javier had waited, and waited, and waited some more for them to finally demand more of him, or throw him out of their life for something better— someone more stable. But the demands and confrontation never came instead they trapped him in the limbo of his own making where they only gave him as much as he gave them. Their shared meals were lighthearted and playful but the conversations always impersonal. And even during the nights when their breaths mingled, hearts sang, and souls danced together, his sweetheart would avoid his eyes and his kisses. For the first time in his life, it wasn’t him out of bed first, refreshed and active, lighting a cigarette or pouring a drink after sex— it was them, getting some water, snacks or taking a shower. 

He hadn’t known what was missing until they had been too dazed from pleasure to avoid a kiss. And that kiss. It had changed him. It had been so tender and desperate, a tantalizing mix of long and slow explorations of each other with sweet and deep forays that had them both panting for air but unwilling to part. The kiss had been warm, passionate and possessive as if the floodgates they had barred closed were cracked open and an immense torrent of love, want and need had surrounded the both of them. It had shaken him and created a sense of awareness— Javier Peña had never been loved this way before. 

So it had been all the more shocking when they had ripped away from that kiss as if burned. His cariño had taken all that love and locked it up again in their eyes, they never allowed it to settle between them again. They had respected the boundaries he had set, and held him to his words as well. The loss had left him bereft— he yearned for what he had tasted only once. And Javier learned just what a greedy man he could be. He had craved more, more more. Everything they were willing to give him and then some. 

He listened to their quiet dulcet tone as they whispered to him about a plant they had lost in the app years ago after it had grown shoots and a smile, and how it had been the tiny thing that triggered a depressive episode. He realised it was an attempt to comfort him and his heart softened further. Javi gently caressed their chin before guiding their face to turn to him until their lips met his in a kiss— their lips always so soft and generous. He wished he could kick the old him for being so stupid for missing out on the chances to kiss the love of his life. He didn’t know why he had been so terrified and uneasy when loving them was so easy. 

He kissed his partner for the sake of kissing them, with relish and wild abandon— feeling the tender arch of their palate, the smooth gummy lining of their cheek, the rough patch on the middle of their tongue. As he sank deeper into their kiss, he allowed the claws of the past to loosen their grip on his mind.

When he had finally dislodged his head from his ass all those years ago and confessed to wanting more from their relationship, it was as if his sweetheart had bloomed in front of his eyes with a smile so full of fondness and affection it had taken his breath away. Their love had spurted vines that tenaciously climbed over his walls of self-loathing and doubt, tearing through the bricks he had laid. The process had been so slow he hadn’t even realised when he had started to breathe easier as the walls crumbled around him. 

Some of the rubble and ruins would still sting and prick under his feet— like today. But the wreckage of those walls had allowed for clear air that brought with it the realisation that Javier Peña was just a man. He hadn’t started the war on drugs, nor will it end with him. He had done what he had to do, and his choices, albeit questionable, were true to who he was. It wasn’t his fault he lived and laboured under a system that would have never allowed his efforts to come to any lasting fruition. He had unsuccessfully struggled for justice in a world devoid of it. And ultimately he had made the choice that was good for him.

The acceptance of his past and actions hadn’t been spoon-fed to him like his father and Steve had attempted, it was a realisation he had come to all on his own, which made it stick. He had personally closed the doors on the opportunity with the Houston DEA office with another on-record interview calling out their discriminatory practices in the name of narcotics control. Surprisingly, his vocal critique had paved the path for him to a new job with a local community-based harm reduction organisation. Connie had even helped him certify as a first responder. 

The irony was not lost on him, that despite all those years of his father’s talks, he had ended up just like the old man. Javier had stopped chasing storms; he had found his fulfilment in coming home to fix the fences every time a storm hit because… someone has to. The DEA was not done with him though, they would often pull him in for consultations— the payment was always a nice cushion for their growing family. 

He was miffed at losing his sweetheart’s attention to the dead virtual plant again, but he watched them revive the plant anyway. His inventory of free drops of life dwindling into nothing, giving away just how spectacularly he had failed at his New Year’s Resolution— he had already killed nine plants before Steve the Dandelion. A fact his cariño had also just realised judging by the admonishing glare. But the action still felt so… significant to him— it made his heart soar. That stupid plant wasn’t the only thing his sweetheart had revived. 

He pulled them off his back and around the couch, positioning them between his spread legs so he could nuzzle into the softness of their belly. Javier grazed his fingers up their thighs to lightly tease the hem of his old t-shirt. They had given him more love, affection and devotion than Javier knew existed— more than he knew what to do with other than trade it between them like two children exchanging their spoils in a collectable card game. 

He hadn’t yet figured out exactly what they saw in him, but he hoped they would see it forever. He would often catch them looking at him from the corner of his eyes, or in the reflection of a window. It would always be a look so full of love that a warm glow would ignite in his chest that spreads all the way to his fingers and toes. Even now, he could feel the warm flush rising up his exposed neck. 

“You know they say new habits are built by layering them on the old ones?” They said as their fingers played with the hair at his nape.

“Mhm, how’s that?” He asked as their fingers now played connect-the-dots with the freckles on his throat. It turns out his cariño was feeling frisky again. He cupped a palm-full of ass, playfully squeezing it to draw them closer to him.

“Well, you could take a drink of water before every meal, or after you brush your teeth, or… before every time you kiss me?” They teased. But he reared his head back. 

“Every time? Every time I kiss you? So, I would have to stop kissing you to go pee every time? What if we were making out? What about sex?” He sounded affronted even to his own ears. This was the worst idea. But they kept giggling away at his misery. 

“Alright, cariño, what is your going rate for a kiss?” He demanded.

“Let me think about it… what about a glass of water for a kiss? Two glasses of water for a full makeout sesh… and then a whole litre of water for sex.” They laid down the law. 

“No…” He was aghast, “Baby, if I drank a litre of water before sex then all you would hear is the water sloshing around in my stomach while we make love.” The words served their purpose as his sweetheart burst into peals of laughter. 

“Why don’t I get a discount today because I was sad?” His voice dropped an octave as he tried to seduce and cajole them back to their bedroom— his own eyes dripping with syrupy love to mirror his partner’s. This suited him, he thought. This life. This love. It all suited him. It was good for him and it made him flourish. 

A/N: The Plant Nanny is an app I used several years ago to build a habit of drinking water. It gives you a tiny plant you can name, and every time you drink water you can water your plant as well. When you drink the water you are supposed to, the plant grows. If you don't drink water, it dies and you feel bad it died. But they give you like 10 drops of life to revive a dead plant. Poor Peña has used up all those drops lol.

[starstruckgoateepuppy]

the cut that always bleeds

park jihyo x f!reader

synopsis: jihyo has been grieving over the loss of her sister, as much as you try and help her move on she seems to get more agitated and bitter which causes the biggest argument of your relationship.

warnings: drinking, kinda toxic jihyo, death and anything else i didn’t say

wc: 1.8k (its short im sorry)

a/n’s note: oh my god its been so so so long 🥲🥲 thank you @cry4mina for encouraging me and giving me ideas your soooooo nice and sweet for reaching out to me ☹️🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷x infinity

You and Jihyo have never had many arguments—mostly just bickering. This is largely because you both are understanding and mature with each other. The few disagreements between you aren't serious, and you typically make up quickly. You love Jihyo, and everyone close to you knows it. No one would have thought things would turn out like this.

-

day one

It was just your typical morning routine with Jihyo, and you nevertheless cherished every moment of it. You lived in an average-sized apartment with her, and both of you were very satisfied and content with your living arrangements.

You had been married to her for quite a while, and it was quite obvious that would not change anytime soon.

While at the table, having your hands on the delicious avocado toast that was made by Jihyo, there was suddenly a tense moment as she picked up her phone and answered the call that had been made while she was in the midst of brewing coffee. She was in such distress that you could tell something was very wrong. After a few minutes of giving her time, she put the phone down and mumbled, "My sister... she's not here anymore... she's dead." You looked at her face, her eyes glistening in the light as tears filled her eyes. You just hugged her as she sobbed into your shoulder.

You held each other for what felt like twenty minutes before gently guiding her to sit down. You assured her that everything would be okay and that her sister was in a better place now. Through her tears, she spoke about their close childhood bond and her deep regret about not interacting during the holidays. from the little times you met her sister, it was clear that she was really a nice and kind woman, it also pained you seeing how wretched she was processing all this.

you called out from work and took the next 2 weeks of just to help jihyo and her family out.

-

day 7

it has been a week since the death of your sister in law, who is now 6 feet buried underground. jihyo still hasn’t taken in the fact that she would never be able to see her sister again.

-

day 90

3 months has passed since the tragic loss of jihyos childhood best friend. to say jihyo was still taking it hard was an understatement. jihyo hasn’t been able to do much other then work and go on her phone reminiscing the memories of her sister. every chance you get, you try and get her to go out and spend some time together but she always seems like she’s out of it. as much as you try to help, she pushes it away and ignores it.

-

day 365+

it has been a year since the death of the park sister and jihyo has still yet to move on. although you still insist in trying to help her deal with her feelings and emotions, she becomes more insistent about being able to deal with herself. and you really can’t lie about how aggressive she has been lately and how much it has been frustrating you. you really just care for her and want to know if shes okay, but how could you if shes trying to push you away? you’re her wife and you feel like you should be responsible for her and her emotional needs. now she’s making you feel like you haven’t been caring and doing your responsibilities as a wife.

all of this causes a big change in her attitude towards you. her being more agitated and angry made you feel like you shouldn’t be talking to her as much anymore than you should. it gets to the point that you try to start avoiding her, worried about making her angry.

-

The clock was hitting 1 in the morning and you still weren’t home. The door clicked open, slowly creaking wider. She saw your familiar shoes and flowy silky black hair tip inside the door. The lights were turned off, just her sitting on the sofa staring at the television in front of her. You slipped off your shoes, placing your sweater on the door. you slightly jumped when you saw her figure get up from the sofa walking towards you.

“hyo? baby why are you awake?”

“don’t even think about talking to me in that sweet tone. what have you been doing at this hour? there cannot be an excuse reasonable enough for this!”

“jihyo you know i would never do such a thing! what kind of person do you take me for? its like you dont even know me anymore. you never try to even bring up a conversation with me!” you fired back at her. She was mainly the dominant one in the relationship. You never made statements like this. “i have been through so much this year and you still treat me like this like its nothing!” its like she was made to make people feel in the wrong, like she purposely wanted to make you feel terrible, like how she has been how the pass few months, and you don’t want to deal with it anymore. You didn’t want to feel like that anymore, you wanted to tell her the truth. “I have been doing my best to help you cope and deal with your grief for months and all you have been doing is pushing me away! how do you think i feel jihyo? i have feelings too! i also am devastated that my sister in law passed away! i also had connections with her but i had to care for you too!”

she stays silent for a little while, taken aback by your words. you thought it was done, maybe she started to understand that what she did was wro- “excuse me? are you trying to tell me that me grieving over my dead fucking sister is crazy? i spent my entire childhood with her, you don’t get it! i am her sister, you are her sister in law. its very different from what i know, or what? are you gonna tell me what i know is wrong too? i am never right to you, is that right?” you were left speechless, unable to process what you had just heard. “no way you just had the nerve to tell me that..” she just raised her eyebrow as you both stood there. you decided that you didn’t want to hear her voice anymore so you took your coat, packed up and left, ignoring whatever protests she was doing.

you got in you car, rethinking everything she had done and how much she neglected you. all the effort to make her feel better, all of that pushed down the drain so easily. all of that and she still called you the problem. you didn’t even know what to do and where to go. your mind was still trying to process everything that had happened in the past 15 minutes.

meanwhile, you could say that jihyo was astonished. she never knew you would go this far and leave the apartment, but she definitely knew that she did something terribly wrong. she was probably sitting on the couch, head in her hands in the most distress she has ever been. obviously she still loved you, but the loss of her sister took a toll on her and she started losing her mind not being able to deal with the pain and grief. she was starting to realise how much she messed up and had a pang of guilt hit her. she called and texted you, pleading that you would give her another chance, that she wouldn’t push you away from helping her. whatever she did you just didn’t answer, she was without a doubt starting to get worried.

it has been hours since you left the house and you genuinely didn’t even know where you were anymore. all you knew was that you weren’t ready to go back to where jihyo was. you were afraid that some unintentional words might slip out which would cause an even deeper misunderstanding with her. you hesitated checking your phone, aware that there would be tons and tons of messages and missed call notifications from her who is named as “my loml 🧡”. you needed a place to stay for the meantime, but you didn’t want to stay at her members place.

if you went to a members house they would probably question you (which isn't unreasonable at all because who the hell shows up uninvited at nearly 3 in the morning?) unfortunately you didn’t want to deal with that with how dazed you were. you knew they would very surely take you in without any protests, you just hated the fact that you would have to explain everything and make even more conflicts and problems.

after the hours of driving and reflecting on your situation. your last hope was to sleep in the backseat of your car. fortunately you had some blankets to keep yourself warm. sleeping in the backseat of your car in the parking lot of your apartment complex, something you never thought you would have to do one day.

-

at 6am

3 hours of minimal sleep, you drove to the nearest convenience store and got yourself some coffee to keep your mind running while on the verge of breaking down again. you didn’t get yourself any food, you doubt you were gonna eat it anyway and it would go to some pigeons in a park or something. you were trying so hard to prevent yourself from having to return back to your house.

you genuinely wish it could start over. things shouldn’t have been like this. there was no one to blame. no one should be forced to get over it.

-

it hits you. your facing what she faced. your sitting at a graveyard, in front of a tombstone.

there it marks the words.

“here is the forever home of

Park Jihyo“

you cry again and again, begging her to please just come back.

why did it have to end like this? you hated it, you wish you had never left the house. she wouldn’t have to go looking for you. then she wouldn’t have gotten into the car crash.

this whole thing could’ve been avoided. if you just continued giving her the time and she would’ve just allowed you to help her.

you wanted to blame the stupid drunk driver. but who are you to blame when she was driving to look for you? you made her worried? driving all around all alone. you thought losing a sister in law was one of the worst experiences. your sister in law will never know she was a reason her sister died just a year later.

[slaytheday12]

a fic where walker is like afraid of spiders and the oc has to kill the spider even though they are also afraid of spiders

Spider slayer's

It was supposed to be a chill night. You and Walker were laying out on the couch, surrounded by snacks, a movie playing softly in the background. Everything was perfect..... until you saw it.

A spider.

It wasn’t just any spider, either. This one was big, the kind that looked like it had no business existing indoors. It was stuck on the wall, motionless but menacing, as if it were plotting its next move.

Your stomach dropped. You froze, pointing a shaky finger. “Walker...” He followed your gaze, and the second he spotted it, his face went pale. “Oh, no. Nope. Absolutely not.” He said jumping up from the couch

“You’ve got to kill it!” you whisper-shouted, already inching further away from the spider.

“Me?” Walker’s voice cracked as he scrambled up onto the couch, looking as though he wanted to be anywhere but here. “No way. You kill it!”

“Are you serious right now?” you asked, clutching a pillow like it could shield you from the eight-legged intruder. “You’re supposed to be the brave one!”

“Bravery has its limits,” he replied, glancing at the spider like it was his mortal enemy. “And mine stops at spiders that look like it can star in a horror movie.”

You groaned, realising that if either of you wanted to survive the night, one of you had to deal with it. The problem? You were just as terrified. “Okay,” you said, trying to psych yourself up. “We’ll do it together.”

“Together?” Walker echoed, his tone doubtful. “How does that work? Do we both throw a shoe at it?”

“No,” you said, glaring at him despite your trembling hands. “One of us has to get close enough to—”

“To what? Have it leap at us and start a new life in our hair?” Walker interrupted, shuddering at the thought. “Would you stop?” you snapped, though you couldn’t help the nervous laugh that bubbled up. “You’re not helping!”

After a brief (and slightly ridiculous) strategy session, the two of you decided on a plan: you’d grab the broom to corner it, and Walker would finish it off with a rolled-up magazine.

Armed and ready or as ready as two terrified teenagers could be—you approached the spider cautiously.

“Closer,” Walker whispered, standing a safe distance behind you. “I am getting closer!” you hissed, inching the broom toward the spider.

The second the broom touched the wall, the spider fell down toward's the floor. Both of you screamed in unison, scrambling back as it darted under the couch.

“This is a nightmare,” Walker said, pacing like he was about to have a full-blown meltdown.

You knelt down, peering under the couch. “Okay, new plan. I’ll... I’ll flush it out, and you smash it.”

“Define ‘smash,’” he said nervously. “End its reign of terror, Walker!” you said.

With a deep breath, you used the broom to push under the couch, forcing the spider into the open. It went across the floor, heading straight for Walker, who yelped and threw the magazine at it.

To your shock, the spider stopped. “Did you get it?” you asked, peering around Walker’s legs.

“I don’t know,” he said, gripping the back of the couch like his life depended on it. You approached cautiously, giving the magazine a nudge with your foot. Sure enough, the spider didn't move.

Walker let out a loud exhale, collapsing back onto the couch. “We did it. We survived.”

“We?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure I was the one who flushed it out.”

“And I was moral support,” he said with a grin,You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Next time, you’re on spider duty.”

“Next time?” Walker said, wide-eyed. “Let’s agree there’s never a next time.” you flopped down beside him, both of you still a little rattled but relieved. “I can’t believe we just battled a spider together,” you said, leaning against his shoulder.

“Spider Slayer Duo,” Walker said, holding up his hand for a high-five. You laughed, smacking his hand lightly. “Let’s never do that again.”

“Deal,” he said, wrapping an arm around you as the two of you resumed your movie night.

A/N: i love this so much lmk what we think

Tags: @sophand4n4, @kaiwrites092

[wortsandall]

i am already deep into writing one fanfic series, why am i getting brain worms about drift relapsing aboard the lost light. or maybe during his exile. and not expecting ratchet to show up, trying to hide it from him. maybe it was a momentary lapse that he had control of. doing small amounts of the stash, prolonging it so that he doesnt have to find more, but being mad at hinself for doing any at all, even if it makes it easier to hide. being with ratchet means there is no getting more, what's left of his stash is all thats left. thinking that's fine, he'll just stop once he has no more.

and then it is empty and its Fine. even if hes a little more antsy or snappish than usual. even if people keep side eyeing him, whispers in the halls about his true nature, doubts about whether deadlock is truly gone. making it even harder to hold on to this persona that he does, trying not to be the big bad decepticon that some of them see him as. that stressing him out, making the craving worse. trying to remember his specturalist rituals, trying to stay in balance despite knowing he's fallen off awhile ago.

ratchet knowing somethings wrong but wanting to be a better friend, less argumentative, less mean so he says nothing even though he's not stupid. he knows somethings up and hes pretty sure he knows what it is, he did have the clinic at the dead end. but that also means he knows that this is something that drift has to deal with. that no matter how supportive someone is, what they say, that this sort of change has to come from within. of course he cares, hes supportive he wants to help but all of that means nothing if drift doesnt want it. ratchet being at war with himself as a medic and as a friend to drift.

ofc this all comes to a head somehow, drift having to accept that he does Not have it all in control. that as much as hes had trouble belonging before, he's not alone now. that he has people he can lean on. even if the exile strained that in a way he doesn't want to admit. (though sometimes he wonders if he'd have struggled so bad, if he would have relapsed at all if the exile hadn't happened. but then again maybe its karma for overlord, for deadlock, for all the wrong hes done in the past)

[feketeribizli]

okay wait marci questions. how does he feel about media stuff? press, sponsored posts, the obligatory slash forced social media goofing etc. actually what's his social media presence like in general. also does he have pets..... did he grow up idolising anyone currently on the grid? how does he feel about racing his childhood heroes if yes? also, what's his favourite colour? capping it here but i want it known that he has eaten my brain 👍

hiii thank youuuu absolute bangers from you as always mwuah mwuah 😁🫶

nearly wrote a thousand words LMAO im putting a readmore somewhere to save yall... thank you for your time everyone 🫡

with all the live cockslip talk i thought itd be fun to delve into his social media presence for real... team and personal brand posting he doesnt mind per say, he got that goober in him that doesnt take oneself too seriously so hopping on silly trends hes almost looking forward to it. aston socials esp their tiktok is like my fave thing in the world lol id love to see him recreate the adam security & gf trend with padre

marci mostly uses instagram and its a mess... i barely follow any drivers but ive noticed they almost always got a certain aesthetic they try to keep up and well. marci dgaf. theyd try to put some color grading filter on the first photo in his dumps so at least theres some harmony to his page but its atrocious

he obviously has an official account on every other site but its usually for stuff his management posts on there (and an empty tiktok profile where his reposts are public. surely nothing weird or suspicious to see)

back to press and shit... hes not a fan 🧍‍♂️ he prefers the scripted stuff and when he can have like three takes to say something cause when its just him and twenty cameras broadcasting live... he still gets nervous and then the accent slips in and he stumbles his speeches and words things in a way people could twist what he said around easily (moment of silence and empathy for little lando norris). hes a small scale driver so the world doesnt hang on every word he says but yknow how it is

oh now im yapping like crazyyy... this part could get a whole new post but its kinda media related and ive been thinking and wanna talk about it a bit... if youve read this far kisses xx 😘

but yeah since im inserting marci into the canon events of real life theres bound to be loud media frenzy around his arrival especially since its aston. and in lances place (gotta work more on this but i was thinking lance has a kinda bad crash somewhere in the beginning of the 2024 season and my guy gets summoned out of thin air colapinto style to fill his place in until recovery but out of nowhere lance is like id like to temporarily step back lol 😋✌️ and the world explodes and marc is full time employed now)

and like idk how the hungarian public would react to a hun on the grid after twenty years (hes faggy so id care. otherwise idgaf about hungarian athletes for the most part) but that combined with the guy the world seems to hate a lot finally stepping down (NOT ME LANCE I LOVE YOU this is me trying to help this is me putting you in good situations) the commotion would be a major event with marcis name in the tabloids for a bit

all im trying to say is that his f1 entry would probably be very overwhelming and hes this shy guy no one has ever heard about before blabbering at stupid fucking press questions while glued to fernandos side. who is he whats his deal

ok lets put a hold on media for now 🧍‍♂️ as for pets... an old bernese back at home :-) marci kind of grew up with her (as much as he was at home. or the country even)... management posting ten-year-old marci at his first karting event with the puppy in his hands and then twenty-year-old marci after his first grand prix facetiming his family in the aston garages with the dog on the phone too... ack

about idols... his big thing is michael schumacher i know that for sure. marc generally looks up to everyone and has immense respect for most drivers. the more i think about it the more im like maybe bro got a thing for psychosexual warfare kinda drivers (schumi, vettel, alonso...) like yayyy to on and off track terrorism when its not aimed at me 😁

confession i kind of made him to deal with my conflicting feelings about aston martin as a whole lol and well. anyway he still shivers hot and bothered sometimes when fernando is around. gets a bit self conscious about it too but nothing that taking it up in the ass couldnt fix

fave color is greeeeen 😁 as i said match made in heaven with aston. team merch is glued to his body

WHEWH what an essay and i dont even know if im making sense lol ! marci is taking shape and becoming rock solid in my head im very happy about it 😋🫶 shoutout again to everyone intrigued i love cooking up the guy im having sooo much fun ‼️💥❣️

[ramblingidk]

I'll get shot for this but it's why I'm staying anon, it's funny being around antis as someone who just lurks as unlabelled and idgaf what ppl do, because I can say the exact same words abt why someone will proship but just replace the word proship with selfship,,, AND ITS THE EXACT SAME!!! THERE IS 0 REASON TO BEEF ON THIS STUFF, only reason I don't get "caught" is just saying "ew yeah I hate (insert group)" which I really don't and it sucks having to do sm bs to avoid life endangerment over a damn ship.

Genuinely I've lost friends over the harassment that antis do because they just can't be online anymore or literally kill themselves after about the 5th time they get doxxed.

Anti harassment goes both ways, but antis seem to act like they were cut first when someone bites back.

Also very real more ppl should be touching grass bc the biggest "proshippers" I've met have been irl or just regular ass people because no one circle jerks their superiority over shit that isn't real 🎉

I don't understand what the big deal is and why it is about fictional pairs. I remember when I was in the Undertale fandom back in the late 2010s there would be a TON of people shipping things like Frans, sansceet and so on. Yeah there were plenty of people saying it's bad and weird, but there was way, WAY less drama then before 2020 when normies flooded the internet. I do know there have been life endangering dramas even then about stupid things like a Frans artist or someone supposedly drawing Rose Quartz from SU "too thin", but I don't believe those issues were as big as nowadays. I wonder how things even got to this point...

I'm so sorry to hear about your friends. It's obvious, but no one should ever have to go through that. It's crazy to think that so many people out there are willing to leak someone's real life location (or in other words literally commit a crime) over things that most definitely don't harm anyone. Again, I wonder how it got to the point where that is normalized...

Yeah, a lot of antis seem to have a giant victim complex lmao. I never understood what's with them and actively infiltrating our community spaces after they specifically tell us to find or make our own, especially when they're an older age (15+). I'll never forget that I literally had a 26yo anti trying to argue with me (a minor) about proshippers in the self ship communit, can you imagine being an adult but still being an anti

And absolutely! Most of the time the proshippers are the normal ones living a good if not decent life. We touch grass and shower and are cool unlike these basement dweller gremlins who spend their time contributing nothing but damage to everyone 👍

[askraddyred]

*Raddy nods when Simon thanks him. It was no big deal after all. He didnt want Simon's vision to get worse cuz of the brightness of the sun. After all, he is rude, often unapologetic, but hes not cruel. Hes helpful when he needs to be and despite his words and actions, he doesnt actually wish harm upon anyone. Quite the opposite actually.*

*Raddy does perk up, though, when Simon changes his mind and accepts the offer. He mentally pats himself on the back for that one. Guilt tripping often works for Raddy when he needs someone to listen or cooperate as Raddy isnt a very feeling guy. Hes standoff-ish and is quick to close others out, so when he acts down or even slightly upset, it usually gets people to cave. Though he does do it all that often and its almost never for his own benefit or gain*

" Yea. I could do that. So do substitutes work, like tofu, or are those out of the question too? "

*He could make something without meat, he could also make something without tofu, but he has some kinda just stored in his fridge and he doesnt know what to do with it. He doesnt like the stuff but he doesnt wanna waste it. Though he most certainly wont add it in the meal if Simon doesnt like it.*

*When Simon apologizes he gives a soft smile, though the touch makes him stiffen. This time its not really a Simon-related problem. More or less Raddy's usual aversion to touch,, but he does relax after a bit, allowing Simon to rub his back. Company doesnt sound too bad. Not at all. Plus he gets to cook for Simon and hes pleased with that idea.*

" Its alright. Dont worry about it. S' no big deal bud. "

There's loud sniffing noises for a moment and the sounds of what sounds like many legs tap on the ground as something large approaches.

Soon a large dull yellow creature comes into view that sniffs at the ground.

It looks like Simon... But as some weird mutilated creature. Tho it seems harmless.

@the-aftermath-of-simon

*Raddy quickly backs up, holding his breath, his eyes wide as saucers as he stares at the creature in front of him. His first instinct is to try to attack it, however, before he can actually attempt to he stops. It looks. . . familiar. It bears a resemblance to someone he knows. It somewhat looks like. . . Simon. Its mutilated and honestly a bit unnerving to look at but its undeniably the yellow sprunki*

*He exhales softly, and creeps forward, lowering his body down slightly in a similar fashion to a frightened cat. He keeps a close eye on the thing, and stays on-edge because a lot of things that dont look dangerous or aggressive could indeed be the opposite of what they seem. He stops close to the creature, taking a deep breath before reaching out to poke at it a few times, quite ready to swing a fist if it snaps at or attacks him*

[captainkirkk]

Concept: Peter actually got bitten by a totally normal spider. It's just a coincidence that his mutant powers were awakened around the same time

[meamiki]

silly comic based on a time i struggled to read live on stream :thumbsup:

context clip compilation below ASDASDFASA

(cw for brief mention of hospitals/strokes)

[betaphannie]

So funny imagining Mr and Mr Games, millionaires and sharers of a mortgage, refusing to pay for the other being like no you ordered an entree im not paying for that nevermind post canceled NordVPN's bitch capitalester absolutely would

[butchvamp]

we know EA interfered a lot with veilguard, i definitely do attribute the "sanitization" of the setting directly to EA's meddling, i even think to some extent taash's quest and the corporate representation feel of it all was influenced heavily by EA and not just weekes. and i think a lot of the companions being so shallow and their quests feeling half-baked is also mostly due to time constraints and rewrites/cut content-- the writers genuinely did do the best they could with what they had, and i feel for them and their frustrations. but. there are also just a lot of really bad decisions made elsewhere, too. like i said the racism has always been present in these games and it's always been a problem, it's literally baked into the worldbuilding, though i can definitely agree that some of it was potentially made worse specifically in veilguard due to constant rewrites and the loss of context and cohesion, but like... it was always there to begin with... and it's not "unfair" for players to point this out.

both things can be true-- EA absolutely fucked these people over, and we shouldn't be speculating conspiracy theory-type shit about the writers hating fans or whatever when we know. we know EA interfered, we know there were creative differences, we know they ruthlessly laid off a lot of the people that poured their blood, sweat, and tears into this game! EA is both stupid and actively malicious, they get no sympathy from me. veilguard absolutely is a casualty of the current state of the gaming industry. and i also think there were a lot of poor writing decisions made independently of that as well, that are fair to criticize and question. a lot of these problems are the same problems we've seen in every single DA game, and this consistency makes it clear this is not just an issue with corporate overreach.

but i really feel for everyone involved with making this game, this shit was clearly a very long and tiring fight, i can't even imagine the kind of constant corporate shitstorm they had to deal with for ten fucking years, and personally there is no NDA in the world that would keep me from talking shit. so these guys are stronger than me lol

[lemongogo]

idk if im finishing this falin but i like the dragon part enough.hrmm