#thinking ab them too hard… ill bust

[yoichist]

“woodland creatures in heat or smth” YOU ARE SO FUNNY???

dhskdj you two r out to get us there has to be an explanation!!!!!!!!

[creepytoes88]

His cumslut

Letting Vinnie do basically whatever he wants tends to benefit me more then most people might think. My best friends are always saying I’m gonna regret letting him go to whatever party or anyone's house. They say he’s a hypocrite because he always has tabs on where I'm at and who I'm with honesty it does get annoying at times but he can't help that he has trust issues. I knew what I was getting into when I said yes to being his girlfriend he has had a bad past with every girlfriend he's had, all of them have cheated and every girl he got with outside of a relationship just uses him. He was very clear on how he feels about unnecessarily revealing clothes “Wear what you want but if I have to kill a guy tonight I'm punishing you when we get home.”

A very common phase he uses but that's the worst of it I don't mind telling him who I'm with or where I am, I never ask him where he is because because I know he won't go looking around anywhere else. I've explained this to them a thousand times “Well tell us why your so confident he won't cheat” I blush slightly and shrug “YOU DO THIS EVERYTIME” I look down “it’s personal” they look at each other and laugh “tell us you prude” I chuckle slightly “promise no Judgement or making fun of me!” they both hold out their pinkeys and nod “wellllll...I let him do whatever he wants-” kay laughs “Yea we know” I look down “i mean anything” I slowly look back up “what he says goes.... Don't wear clothes for the rest of the week.....suddenly I'm busy all week” they look at me dumbfounded “of course there are exceptions but I let him have complete control with the sexual side of the relationship.” I say with a small smile “and he's good at it too” they look at each other and look back at me before busting out in laughter, “no wonder your not worried...your his sex slave” I tilt my head Vinnie had never used that term with me, I grew up with Vinnie me and him went to school together we weren't close till middle school we decided in freshman that we would be best as friends. The second week him and I were in LA we went to a party and ended up hooking up I was a virgin, and I thought it was gonna ruin everything but to my surprise, we just kept getting more and more serious.

After 5 months of living in the sway house, we moved out into our little house, our sex life completely changed when we no longer had people living with us. Vinnie told me his sexual dreams of having me whenever he damn well pleased and having me wear things he likes. Vinnie makes jokes about it but in real life I'm only allowed to call him Vinnie if we're in public inside the house his name is Daddy and that alone. The first time we had a fight in the house I called him by his name and he simply picked me up threw me over the couch, he edged me for hours when he finally let me release the power of it made me faint for a minute scaring the the absolute shit out of Vinnie. ”Honestly your not wrong...he’s never called me that but I guess your kinda right” they are quite for a second so I look at them “what” they look at each other before kay takes a deep breath “are you happy though, Outside of the sex he not controlling or pushy?” I smile “oh he's perfect and so sweet to me honestly I'm more worried of hurting his feelings.” I feel my phone vibrant and then Vinnie’s ring tone I answer quickly wondering why he didn't face time me or text me “hey bab-” I hear him breathing deeply “whats wrong?” I ask with worry “I really need you to head home now baby I’ve had a very long day and I need to release some tension.”

I feel shivers go down my spine and I feel myself already starting to get wet I let out a fake sigh “alright Vinnie if it’s that important I’ll be home in 10 minutes” hoping the girls won’t think it’s about something dirty. Vinnie lets out a chuckle “they are still giving you shit about me?” I laugh “I’ll be home soon I love you” I hung up and give the girls an apologetic face “girls I’m-“ they laugh and stand up “it’s okay Y/n we don’t want him to throw a tantrum because your not naked when you get there” I gasp turning around seeing their playful faces “you guys are ridiculous.” We all laugh as we go separate ways, I get in my car rushing home I want to beat him to the house so I can keep the plan of being naked. The second I step in the house I start stripping and then as I’m about to pull my skirt off I hear a door slam. I gasp and rush upstairs flinging my clothes off just leaving them there. I hear the Door open then slam shut I jump on the bed quickly, I place my head and chest against the bed my ass in the air. I spread my legs as far as possible trying to calm my breathing my heart is basically beating out of my chest as I wait for him patiently.

Vinnie's POV

I pull in to the house and shut off the car taking a deep breath ”Vinnie it's not Y/n’s fault that Justin is a dumbass” I say to myself getting out of the car I slam the door releasing as much anger as possible before going in the house to my beautiful wife to be. I will marry this woman she's everything I've ever wanted or needed but now isn't the time for marriage or at least that's what I keep telling myself walking in to the house and slamming that door too I am already kinda feeling better I'm still fucking pissed but I'm not raging anymore I toss my keys into the bowl and take off my shoes seeing hers just tossed to the side unlike usual. I walking into the living room to see her shirt and bra on the floor I smirk and walk up to the stairs seeing her skirt and her panties along with her socks right outside the closed door. “Hello my love-” I walk in to see her bent over with her ass in the air, her beautiful flower on full display along with her cute little button. The sight takes my breath away I can see her arousal dripping down her legs “well aren't you just the prettiest view.”

I see her wiggle her squishy cheeks making me laugh a little “wanna give Daddy a little dance show princess?” I was kidding but my baby never disappoints she immediately started to shake her butt to an imaginary song I watch with my mouth open a little I truly didn't know she was capable of dancing that way. I watch in awe as she began to make her ass clap (as one does💀) I grunt as I feel my dick become impossibly hard I began to take my clothes off as I pull down my boxers. My cock slaps against my lower stomach making my stomach twist I grab ahold of it watching as large amounts of pre-cum slip out. I swiping my tip letting out a little grunt, I hear her call my name I look up at her to see her look at me from between her legs “can I help?” she asks as she bites her lip. I immediately let go and I feel another large amount of pre-cum drip down my staff again making me blush slightly no one makes me as horny as she does.

Y/n’s POV

I jump up from my spot I roll off the bed dropping to my knees in front of him I take both my hands and intertwine them with his big warm hands. First I lick up the line of pre-cum that's made its way to his balls all the way back to his tip before sinking down till he hit the back of my throat. Vinnie lets out a gasp rocking his hips against my face pushing the rest of his cock down my throat a gag comes out as a result but I continue to bob my head and suck I pull my head off taking a breath or two before opening back up and taking him all the way till my nose is pushed against his naval. The prickly hair tickling my nose I let out a small giggle “Oh fuck what was that” Vinnie moans above me and he grabs the back of my head by my hair in a fist “I'm gonna fuck your throat baby are you ready?” I nod my head best I can with his thick and long cock stuffed in my throat and blocking my airway. He pulls back till his tip is almost out before thrusting back in a popping and gagging sound come from my throat and my eyes rolls to the back of my head. I never thought I would get so much pleasure from giving a man head in my life but something about his taste and the feeling of him stuffing my throat that I just can't get enough of. Once I spent a whole day just sucking his dick he came in my mouth and down my throat too many times to count I had a little stomach bulge after and it kinda looked like a food baby. I remember Vinnie asked if that meant I was technically carrying his children now I smile slightly at the memory but I'm brought back to reality when I hear him calling my name “oh fuckfuckfuck” he pushes his cock as far down my throat as possible “Shit Y/n fuck baby!” shooting a long, and hot load down my throat I grab his hips gargling my throat around his cock making him jump and try to pull away as he continues to cum down my throat. He succeeded in pulling out and the last little bit of cum landing on my tongue “mmmm Daddy you taste so good” I say licking my lips I use my finger to the the rest off my chin and off his tummy I look in his eyes at I take the finger and put in my mouth moaning at the taste again. “Fuck Princess you enjoy that way to much don't you think?” he laughs as he lays down on the bed ���my balls hurt” he laughs I crawl back on top of him kissing his cheeks and finally his lips “you taste so good though Daddy, I just can't get enough of you.” I run my hands threw his hair “give me like 10 minutes and ill make you feel so good baby” he says as he kissed my neck I sit beside him rubbing his god like body (somebody said something about licking his biceps in the comments as I kinda like that idea so enjoy)

I run my hands over his shoulders and down his arms admiring his gorgeous skin I feel the need to worship him show him just how much of a slave for him I am he doesn't need to tell me I'm his slave, I already know I am and I'm gonna show him. “Mmm Daddy let me worship you” I whine as I began to kiss his chest and shoulders I run my hands up and down his toned stomach I began to kitten lick his hard muscles sucking little hickeys while I'm at it. “Fuck Princess what did you say” I start to kiss and lick his abs my hands rubbing his hard thighs pulling away I say “when I was at lunch with the girls I finally told them the truth about why I trust you so much they called me your sex slave.” I stop and begin to leave hickeys all over his hips and sex lines his hard cock brushing my cheeks and chin “I thought about it and I agree and honestly I wouldn't have it any other way” I lean down kissing his lips “oh princess I'm gonna make you more then just my sex slave” I sinister smile runs across his face and gleam appears in his eyes “I'm gonna make you my cumslut and your gonna beg for my cum....well everywhere if I have it my way.” he says looking in my eyes I feel a blush run on my cheeks and an excited shiver run down my back “you know you'll have it your way Daddy that my job right?” I say with a cute smile tilting my head trying to look innocent Vinnie let's put a dark chuckle “I can't wait to ruin you and really turn you into my cumslut” he pulls me down before flipping us over so he's on top “you won't be able to think about anything else except the way it feels for me to cum in your beautiful body” that sentence sent a violent shiver down my spine, I just got on birth control a little over 2 weeks ago but we haven't had raw sex quite yet mostly because we wanted to be sure the birth control is in full effect before taking the chance. (let's pretend you can't get pregnant on birth control at all lmao) I guess now is better than never “please Daddy make me your cum slut” I whine hooking my leg around his hip running my hands threw his hair.

Vinnie’s POV

My poor little bunny had no idea what she was doing to me as far as she's concerned these are just words flying out of her mouth but to me they are her words of true love and true trust. She trusts me enough to control her body and soon her mind, once she falls into the state of a cumslut I know she won't be able to control her body or her mind hopefully she feels relaxed in that state. The last thing I would want is for her to have a bad experience with me being the one in charge. I push my head into her neck running my staff between her slick lips a small moan falls from her lips “thank you, baby, I won't disappoint you I promise.” I kiss her lips once more before grabbing ahold of both of her legs pushing my spongy tip into her entrance the feeling completely different from when I have a condom on I let out a low gasp. Goosebumps pop up on my skin and a shiver runs down my spine as I pull out a light popping noise is made “UGH FUCK YOUR SO TIGHT” I let out a loud moan throwing my head back. I look back down seeing my sweet girl looking back up at me with wide innocent eyes and her mouth slightly open her hands hold tight onto my shoulders without even thinking I push inside of her both of us moaning as her wet walls fluttering around my dick about sending me into orbit I quickly bottom out letting out a grunt using my free hand to move her hair out of her face “F-fuck Daddy please I want you to use me” I began to jackhammer into her feeling her wall pulse around me her loud moans filling my ears as I pick up her legs pushing them into her shoulders feeling myself go further inside of her “Da-DADDY” I chuckle “what baby is there something you want” she whines and grinds her hips into me making me go even further if that's possible. “Daddy please cum inside of me I wanna feel it” Her little body was shivering, I feel my balls tighten so I began to rapidly pound inside of her “OH YESSS IM CUMMMING” she yells out thrusting her hips up. I grunt pushing as far into her as I can releasing deep inside of her, I look down to see her tense and shivering “you ok bunny,” I ask slightly worried “i-so um I-please” I look at her slightly confused “what baby?” I say with a little laugh I see her open her eyes a little before spreading her legs again “more please.” she whines out I drop my mouth open at my cute little whiney mess “oh princess you have no clue what you just did”

I have other things coming but should I make a part 2 to this

[pascalpanic]

Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter Four

Summary: You feel like shit and decide to work out the bug. Javier is not going to let that happen.

W/C: 2.5k

Warnings: language, mentions of illness (just a common cold), cavity-inducing fluff

A/N: Hi this is like, toothache-inducing fluff. Super cute idea from @softly-sad inspired this whole chapter! And BIG shoutout to @remmysbounty for being my sounding board/Colombian culture expert/brainstorming buddy!

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You’re a nurse; your immune system is hardy. The first year or so of working in hospitals led you to constantly feel ill, plagued by some bug or virus, but you powered through with help from your fellow nurses. It was to be expected, working in an environment surrounded by people, specifically ill ones.

That being said, you had caught a bug of some kind. It wasn’t too bad, not enough to disqualify you from work. It was simply a scratch in your throat, a throbbing temple that came and went, a few other mild symptoms and an inability to sleep.

This brief insomnia was what found you awake at 1:28 in the morning, joints aching. You’re hydrated, well-fed, and had even snuck a nap in during your break at work today. Everything should be fine, but your body aches, and you roll over in your bed with a groan. Sleep isn’t coming, isn’t anywhere near possible. You crack your neck as you sit up and decide the best course of action is to work out the aches. 

You sigh and get out of bed, changing out of your pajamas and into your workout clothes. Your mind wanders a little, wondering if you’ll catch Peña at this hour. It seems unlikely, but then again, the probability of anyone being at the gym at this hour is always low.

It’s a bit chilly in the air of the night, and you sigh as you walk out into the fresh air. You make your way to the gym, secretly hoping that you don’t run into Javier tonight. You’ll be the first to admit you look like shit, and you’re not going to be working out as hard as normal.

Luck isn’t on your side tonight, you sigh, as you enter the fitness center and find Javier running on the treadmill. He’s already quite into it, sweating and panting from the running. He turns as the door creaks open and stops the machine, smiling a little. It falls when he notices the dark rings around your eyes. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you say shyly, turning away from him to put your things in a locker. The twinge returns to your temple and you try your best not to groan at the annoying headache.

Javier turns off the treadmill and turns to look at your back. “I’ll just say it. You look like shit. Is something wrong?” he asks, crossing his arms, genuinely concerned.

“I feel like shit too,” you chuckle, running a hand over your ponytail.

His brow furrows as he looks at you. “Rough shift? I thought you said-”

You nod and cut him off. “I only work days for the next two weeks, yeah,” you say, turning to face him. “I’ve got some kind of bug or something. I feel like shit and I can’t sleep. I figured I’d come to the gym and try to work out if I was going to be awake, but…” you shrug and take a swig from your water bottle.

Javier shakes his head. “If you’re feeling like shit, working out isn’t going to be the answer.” He steps off the treadmill and wipes his face with the hem of his t-shirt, exposing unexpectedly strong abs that make you raise your eyebrows before quickly looking away. He walks over to the area by you, grabbing his bag. “If neither of us can sleep, why don’t we go get breakfast?” he offers, positioning himself so that you don’t have to move to see him. “There’s a little 24-hour place around here. I’ll buy, we’ll get you some hot coffee and food.”

You bite your lip, thinking you probably shouldn’t. “I came here to work out,” you say, a weak protest.

“That’s pointless if you’re feeling like shit,” Javier points out, and you nod.

“I guess that’s true.” You say and cross your arms.

Javier gives you a soft, gentle smile. “You’re a nurse. You know it’s true. Come on,” he tells you, and you finally crack a small smile too. Javier’s widens at that. “Alright hermosa, come on,” he tells you as he grabs his bag. “I drove here tonight. We’ll take my car?” he asks.

The thought of seeing the kind of car the man drives makes you smile a little wider. You hold back a giggle at the nickname, your heart fluttering helplessly in your chest. “As long as you’ll drive me home too,” you nod, and Javier nods back. 

You walk out to his car alongside him, where you discover he drives a beat-up wagon. You chuckle a little and get into the passenger side. It smells of cigarette smoke, which you find no surprise. There’s some kind of air freshener, at least, that masks the distinct smell but doesn’t hide it completely. Javier tosses his bag in the back and sits in the drivers’ seat. 

The drive to the restaurant is filled with a comfortable silence, the radio playing quietly. You relax in the seat of his car, his presence soothing. It’s a bit chilly, and you unintentionally shiver. Javier’s obviously still warm from working out and he notices the fact that you’re cold. “The heater’s busted,” he admits with an apologetic smile. “Here.” He reaches into the back and grabs a leather jacket, placing it on your lap. “Use my jacket.” 

The gesture makes you melt a little, and you nod, sliding it over your shoulders. It’s big on you, but it’s warm and comfortable and has a distinctive smell that you’re sure is Javier’s. There’s cologne and cigarette smoke and exhaust from the shitty car, and you smile as you snuggle into it. “Thank you,” you tell him as you look over at him, your heart completely in your eyes and unable to hide it.

He looks back at you and his stony face cracks into a smile. “No problem.”

A few minutes later, the car parks outside a small restaurant, dimly lit but clearly open. As you get out of the car and open the door to the restaurant, the smell of coffee wafts your way and soothes you as you breathe it in. Javier walks in behind you and a short and plump waitress calls his name excitedly. “Javi! How are you, mijo?” She asks, already bringing two mugs of coffee as she notices the two of you. “And who is this?” She asks again, handing you a mug.

Javier leads you to the small booth nearby and the two of you sit. He introduces you and you give a little wave, sipping your coffee and sighing at the warm liquid. The waitress chats with him, and you smile to yourself as you watch the two of them interact. He’s just as charming with her as he is with you, and it makes you chuckle. He orders something for the two of you (you don’t catch exactly what), and you lean against the cool leather of the booth, smiling at him as the waitress leaves to put in the order. “What?” he asks, cracking a small smile at the way you look at him.

You snuggle into his jacket and shrug. “You’re quite the charmer,” you tease, bringing the coffee to your lips to hide the growing smile. “What did you order us?”

“Sweet arepas,” he tells you, and you nod happily as you set it down. 

“Sounds wonderful,” you nod and set it down. “How was your day?” you ask, the quiet atmosphere of the small restaurant making your voice quieter and gentler. You’ve never asked him something like that, but he’s been tense all night. Well, what you assumed was tense- you didn’t know him extremely well. 

“Shitty,” he shakes his head as he admits it, sipping his own coffee before finishing his response. “We can’t find shit on Escobar or any of his men. It’s like they’re fucking ghosts or something: we can always see them and never catch them.”

You nod and listen, his quiet voice and the coffee soothing you. His voice is beautiful, you notice, and it’s just what you needed on a night like tonight. “That sounds hard,” you nod in agreement, your eyes showing your compassion.

Javier has come to love looking into your eyes. They always give away your thoughts and emotions. The way you look at him melts his heart. He has Steve and Connie and whatever prostitute he’s with, but they always already know the story or don’t care. You do. “It’s tough, yeah,” he says before he looks down at his coffee, the image of you bundled in his leather jacket threatening to make him smile. 

The arepas come not long after, and you sigh as you bite into the cinnamon-sugar dusted cornmeal cakes. Javier chuckles and smiles as he hears the noise. You notice the way his smile looks like it doesn’t come often, but it comes in full force when it does. It crinkles the edges of his eyes, leaves lines around his mouth, and makes him look like everything you want and more. He bites into one and it leaves the fine powder on his mustache. You snort and nearly spit out your coffee as you notice it.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly, hiding your face behind your mug. “Just got a little… something,” you say, gesturing to your face, to where his mustache would be. He brushes it and frowns as he notices the sugar falling out, and you giggle harder.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Javier says, amusement and teasing in his tone.

“Don’t make yourself so easy to laugh at,” you say with a quirked eyebrow, taking another bite of your arepa.

Javier shakes his head, that familiar small smile on his face: the one he always cracks around you no matter how hard he tries to hold back. He really does like you, he realizes in that moment, as he looks at you: happily chewing your food and wrapped in his leather jacket and probably getting powdered sugar and cinnamon on it but he can’t even bring himself to care because your big eyes are on his face and it makes him warm inside even if he’ll never admit it because goddamn would Steve tease him for the rest of eternity but he thinks he might be falling, and it makes that smile grow into a real one he can’t hold back.

He takes a sip of his coffee and forces himself to be the regular Javier, the flirty one who doesn’t let things mean something to him because he knows it’ll be gone soon anyway. “Sometimes I can’t believe you’re a nurse. Are you so mean and sarcastic to your patients?”

“Come by sometime and find out,” you tease. “Actually, don’t. That would mean you’d need a reason to be in the hospital.”

-

The rest of the night passes easily. You and Javier spend hours in that diner booth, drinking coffee and mindlessly munching on the arepas, which the kind waitress brings out several plates of throughout the night. She tells you that Javier doesn’t eat enough, and you believe it, and you watch as the plate slowly becomes empty every time, most of them going into Javier’s mouth and leaving more sugar on that mustache. You converse and tease and flirt and bare your life stories to each other, neither of you ever taking your eyes from the other’s face except for when the woman- Valeria, she tells you- brings more coffee and more food.

Javier looks at his watch for the first time that night, finding that it’s now 5:30 in the morning. “Shit. We’d better get you home, you need to work, don’t you?” “Don’t you too?” you ask in return, tilting your head and pulling the coat closer around yourself.

“Yeah, but that’s less important.” He leaves a Colombian bill on the table for payment and tip for Valeria, then stands, adjusting his clothing. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

You nod and stand, following Javier out to his car, parked on the street in front of the diner. Valeria calls out a goodbye to the both of and you wave, a soft smile on your face. There were kind people everywhere you went, you found, even in a place with so much trouble and violence. 

The sky is beginning to change colors as the sunrise approaches. The dark blue of the sky lightens near the horizon, and a bit of pastel orange tinges just where the outline of the city meets it. It’s beautiful, really. You watch the sky as Javier drives you home, as it slowly changes and a bit of the sun is starting to show.

Javier parks in front of your apartment, which you directed him to, and kills the engine. You look at him, confused. “I’ll walk you inside,” he says as if it’s obvious.

As you get out of the car, Javier follows and you shake your head. “No, it’s fine Javi,” you protest, but he walks to you and puts a hand on your arm. 

“I want you to be safe, and you know I carry a gun.”

“It’s 5:30 A.M. on a Tuesday, and you’re wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt,” you laugh, raising your eyebrow. He hasn’t touched you since you first shook hands when you met. His hand is large and strong and you can practically feel the warmth through the thick leather of his coat. “Oh, shit, sorry,” you say and start to shrug out of the coat, but he stops you, one hand on each arm. 

He shakes his head. “Keep it with you,” he says.

It’s a soft moment, the sun coming up in the eastern sky, Javier’s hands holding you through his coat, the one he gifted you when you were cold. You’re both silent for a moment, and Javier can’t help himself. He presses a soft kiss to your head, where your hairline and your forehead meet, murmuring your name into your skin. He’s so close to you, and you can smell his cologne and his sweat and his deodorant and cigarettes and coffee and it’s all so uniquely Javi that your breath stops for a moment before you throw your arms around his torso, hugging him. “Thank you,” you breathe into his chest, and you can feel him hum a soft noise that conveys ‘it’s no problem’, his arms wrapping back around you.

You both break away a moment later and you look up at him, a soft smile gracing your face and an equal one on his. “My hero,” you chuckle softly and press a brief kiss to his cheek. Javi chuckles softly at that, the warmth radiating from him tempting you to do more, but you stop yourself. You don’t want to give him your bug. “Thank you for tonight. It was much needed,” you tell him, pulling his leather jacket tight around yourself.

“I needed it too,” he nods. “Go inside. I’ll see you,” he says, his hands resting where his belt loops would be on his jeans. You can tell that’s a pose he strikes often.

“See you,” you nod and turn, heading into your apartment building. As you open the door, you turn, and Javier gives a little two fingered salute to you before getting back into his car.

taglist:

@wonderlandgabby​ @diogodxlot​

[lady-divine-writes]

Kurtbastian Week 2020 - “War of the Roses” (Rated M)

Summary: Kurt suspects that his husband may be cheating on him. But instead of taking the mature route of talking with him, he calls up a radio talk show that has a unique way of uncovering the truth. (2236 words)

Notes: Inspired by a talk show I used to listen to by the same name. Written for the @kbweek2020 Day 5 prompt 'angst', but not quite as angsty as you might imagine.

Read on AO3.

“War, War, War, War of the Roses!”

The pre-recorded announcement, surrounded by loud fanfare, blares through Kurt’s phone. He moves it away from his ear before the d.j. follows with: “It’s War of the Roses day on Magic 92.5! Hop on the website, send us a text, or call and leave us a message, and you, too, may be featured on War of the Roses! Today, we have Kurt on the line, ready to share the troubling story of him and his husband Sebastian. Kurt - thank you for joining us.”

“Th-thank you for having me,” Kurt replies, hating the way his voice sounds, the way it rattles around his dry throat. Hating what he’s doing. Hating that he gave the show their real names! What an imbecile he is! People he knows listen to this show! His boss Isabelle listens to this show! She must be listening now because he hears a beep over the line - a sign that another call is trying to wedge its way in. When he doesn’t answer it, it disconnects with a chunky bwap-bwap! A second later, messages start flooding his email, which he left open on the laptop in front of him. And not just from Isabelle. From Rachel, Mercedes, Santana, Brittany, Chase …

Kurt lifts a hand and closes the lid, shutting them out.

Oh boy. 

He’s only been on the phone for 30 seconds and he’s already made a mess of things.

“Kurt,” the d.j. says, “why don’t you start by telling us why you contacted us? How can we help you?”

Kurt sighs. I contacted you because I’m stupid, he thinks. And insecure. And, frankly, I should hang up right now and put my phone in the freezer for safekeeping before I do anything else stupid. “I … I think my husband might be cheating on me.”

Canned ooo’ing follows his admission, and if he didn’t regret this decision before, he certainly regrets it now. He can’t stand the idea that they’re using this situation that’s been keeping him up at night as the punchline of a joke. But he can’t blame them. He did this. There are other ways to go about this that he should have considered first. Counseling. Private investigators. Honest and open communication with his spouse. But for some reason, when his husband got up early and left for work without waking Kurt for a goodbye kiss for the eighth day in a row, Kurt broke. If his marriage isn’t working, if they’re headed for Splitsville, Kurt needs to know today. 

Now.

Sooner, if possible.

And that’s when he leaped for his cell phone and made this ill-advised call.

Kurt didn’t think there was anything wrong with his marriage. He thought they were happy – blissfully so. But for the past few days, things have gotten odd between them. Strained. And Kurt doesn’t know why. He needs to find out.

Lucky for him (depending on how you look at it), the radio program had a last-minute cancellation. The person who was scheduled to be on this morning decided to take matters into their own hands and run their unfaithful spouse over with a Cadillac.

A Cadillac that wasn’t theirs to begin with.

The station called him practically a second after he got off the phone with their answering machine.

“And why do you think your husband might be cheating on you?” the female co-host asks in a voice sympathetic from years of practice.

“Well … he’s been avoiding me.” Kurt winces at that weak excuse. To be fair, Sebastian’s firm recently landed a huge client - their first of this caliber in years. And since one of his partners is out on maternity leave, the job of wining and dining had fallen on Sebastian’s shoulders - a task he hasn’t performed in close to a decade; one he never liked much, especially after he and Kurt got married since it kept him away from home. “But on top of that,” he says, leaving that pertinent information out, “he’s been talking a lot about some guy named Martin.”

“Really?” the d.j. says, working hard to make this revelation sound like the scandal of the century since Kurt isn’t giving them much to work with. “And what has he been saying about Martin?”

“He’s been very complimentary about the job Martin has been doing down at the office.” Another wince. “A-and my husband isn’t normally the kind to hand out compliments. Plus, they’ve been working a lot of late nights - meetings, overtime, all last minute, that sort of thing.”

“Do you think Martin is doing something other than working that your husband might actually be complimenting him on?”

“Maybe,” Kurt says meekly, his heart going from ache to break. He hadn’t put those thoughts into words before today, hadn’t even texted them to his closest confidants now crowding his inbox. This is the first time he’s getting it off his chest … and he’s doing it to millions of people he doesn’t know.

He can hear Sebastian's voice in his head, laughing and saying, "Smart, Kurt. Very smart."

“Alright! Let’s get Sebastian on the phone and find out what’s going on once and for all!”

“Okay,” Kurt mumbles, covering the fact that the host's apparent enthusiasm to destroy Kurt's life put him on the verge of throwing up.

“What we’re going to do (for those of you who don’t know how this works) is offer Sebastian a dozen romantic roses to send free of charge to the person of his choice," the d.j. explains. 

"Let’s hope he says Kurt,” his co-host adds.

“Yes,” Kurt says, and very unlike him, he begins to pray. 

He prays Sebastian doesn’t answer the phone.

He prays Sebastian's secretary answers instead and tells them to send the roses to Kurt, Sebastian’s one true love. Kurt would accept that, hearing it second hand. That would be fine. Hearing it from Sebastian's secretary would be almost like hearing it from Sebastian. She’s a trustworthy soul, not inclined to cover for her boss.

He thinks.

Most of all, he prays that no matter who answers, no matter what happens, he’s wrong.

Ring-ring.

Ring-ring.

Ring-ring.

Click.

“Hello?”

Sebastian answers and Kurt’s stomach drops. In the time it takes Sebastian to complete that word, Kurt recalls the way most of these things end. Then his mind, which rarely seems to be on his side lately, conjures up how it might end for them.

This phone call and their entire marriage.

“Let’s get a name for the card, Sebastian. Who would you like us to send those roses to?”

“Let’s send them to Martin,” Kurt imagines his husband saying in a sly, seductive voice without pause. 

“Martin? And what message would you like to go with it?”

“Make it out to Captain Flexible. And write ‘last night was incredible. Here’s to many more late nights in the future’.”

That nightmare spell shatters when Kurt hears the d.j. say his husband's name. “Sebastian?”

“Yes?” Sebastian answers, already sounding annoyed. No one who calls Sebastian’s office line ever calls him by his first name except family. 

And Kurt.

“Hello! My name is Andrew, and I’ve just opened a new flower shop in Uptown called The Rose Knows.”

“Good for you,” Sebastian says dryly.

“We’re calling businesses in the Midtown area with our first promotion. We’re offering a free dozen romantic roses to send to the person of your choice. And all we ask in return is that you recommend our shop to your family, your friends, your co-workers …”

“You must have the wrong number. I don’t need anything for free. Put an ad in the Pennysaver like everyone else.”

"I'm not sure the Pennysaver's still in business."

"Not my problem."

Kurt bites his lower lip, grinning when he should be in tears, the nervous flip-flopping of his stomach, like pancakes on a griddle, causing his abs to cramp. But that’s his husband. His Sebastian. 

So far, so good.

“Come on,” the d.j. presses. “We’re a small business, just starting out. Do a man a favor. Have some community spirit.”

Sebastian sighs like this is so beneath him. He stays quiet, and Kurt knows he’s debating between messing with this guy or hanging up on him. But Sebastian probably figures he’s not going to shake him until he gives in. Besides, Sebastian is nothing if not a networker. A flower shop would be of no use to him, but who knows? “Let’s see. Who in my life deserves free roses? My mom’s birthday is coming up, so maybe I could send them to her. Or my sister. She just had a baby.”

“Oh! Congrats!”

“A-ha,” Sebastian says, the amount of unimpressed in his tone staggering. “There’s Martin Lewis ...”

“Martin?” the d.j. repeats, stressing the name subtly to put emphasis on Kurt’s concerns.

He doesn’t need to. Kurt’s heart has already stopped.

“Yeah," Sebastian says, his voice going softer. "Roses would definitely brighten up his office.”

“And why does Martin deserve roses?”

“Not that it's any of your business, but he’s been busting his ass helping me put together a huge proposal. Plus, his wife's in the hospital. He could bring them over to her."

"O-oh ..." The d.j. slips. That's probably the last thing he expected to hear.

"Or you know what?” Sebastian's voice drops a register, a hint of wickedness lacing between. “I could send them to this guy I absolutely worship."

"Oh really?" The d.j. recovers, seeing things start to turn around. The hosts definitely root for a happy ending, but it's no surprise that angst makes their ratings soar.

The cringe-factor of someone confessing unaware to their infidelities. 

Their listeners eat that up.

"Yup. The most amazing, sexiest man on the face of the planet. The man with the biggest heart of any human being I have ever met. The man I call the Energizer Bunny because he can go all. night. long. The man I hope to spend the rest of my life with.” 

Kurt hiccups. His heart, a useless lump in his chest, lodges in his throat. 

“And who would that---?” But before the d.j. can interject with their usual spiel, Sebastian continues. 

“But I think he’s worth more than a bouquet I got for free from some lame-ass radio talk show. What do you think, Kurt?”

The line goes dead.

Kurt has been listening to this radio program religiously for close to seven years, and to his knowledge, this has never happened before - a caller called out by their s.o. But the d.j. is on it because he immediately plays an old school ‘wah-wah’ noise to show that Kurt has been caught.

“H-how did you know?” Kurt asks.

“Because I know you, Kurt,” Sebastian says. “I know the kinds of things you do when you panic, and you mostly panic when you feel like people you love are going to leave you.”

“Yeah?” Kurt sniffs, a tear rolling down his cheek. Adding to his list of things he hates, he hates that Sebastian knows him so well. “And what do I do?”

“You kind of go off the deep end.” Sebastian chuckles, lighthearted and anxious, reminiscent of the night he asked Kurt to be his for the first time. “And I understand why. I’m sorry I’ve been distant lately. And I’m sorry about the late hours. I’ve just been caught up at work. I swear that’s all. But Kurt … can we talk about this when I get home? So I can look at you, in your eyes, and tell you that there’s no way in heaven or earth I would ever cheat on you? It took me a long time to win you over. There’s nothing that could persuade me to give you up, not for anyone.”

More sound effects - an awww followed by applause - play in the background as the d.j. and his co-host attempt to maintain control of the show.

“So … you don’t hate me?” Kurt asks.

“For which offense? Doubting me, my loyalty, and my love for you? Or airing our dirty laundry on the radio?”

“Uh …” Kurt awkwardly clears his throat. “All of the above?”

Sebastian sighs again. He sounds exhausted, but also like he can’t wait to get home and give Kurt a good ribbing. “Yes, babe. I forgive you.”

“Thanks. And I’m sorry about all this.”

“Apology accepted. I mean, what’re a few tawdry secrets among friends? Strangers? The barista down at Starbucks? My clients?”

“When should I expect you home?” Kurt rushes to cut him off, feeling more like a heel than he had before. “I know you have another big meeting and …”

“I’ll be home in about an hour. Wait … make that an hour and ten. I’m going to stop by a real flower shop and get you some roses. I think you’re overdue.”

“Really?” Kurt says, so astounded, so touched, he doesn’t hear the cheesy music the d.j. has started playing in the background.

“Yes, really. And Kurt?”

“Yes?”

“Be naked when I get there,” Sebastian growls.

The music stops, skidding to a halt with the sound of a record scratching. “Guys … uh … you’re still on the air.”

“Sorry not sorry there, champ,” Sebastian says and hangs up the call.

So does Kurt, shoving his phone in the freezer before the station tries to call back for a recap.

[softisdangerous]

Excerpt from Chap 17 of Call of the Blood

Eric’s POV - Thursday July 16th & Friday, July 17th, 2009

I closed the bar for the night. Interrogating the drainers had been useless, and their screams were both irritating and loud, but at least Chow enjoyed his work. Pam had been telling me for months that it was time to adjust our styling again, to keep up with the times and that my long hair was getting to the point of ridiculous. I did not like to change my hair, but I was inclined to let her pamper me a bit. I had been short tempered with her, nearly biting her head off at every question she asked me. My ill-temper was only exacerbated by the fact that I was ridiculously thirsty, and the only thing that sounded remotely appetizing to me was Jane’s fresh blood.

But I wasn’t about to put her at risk again. No, I lacked the control to drink from her right now. It was nearly unthinkable that after a thousand years I still couldn’t master all of my bloodlust, but I wasn’t too proud to admit it, if only to myself. It did have me questioning what made Jane so unique. I was beginning to wonder if she was all human, or if she had some latent ancestry that made her blood addictive, and made the drinker…what? What effect did she have on me? Insanity? Obsession?

Love?

I squashed that thought quickly. No, she was just unique and Godric was missing.

Pam was putting foul chemicals on my head and idly explaining what she was doing, but I wasn’t focusing on her words. I was still attempting to think. Godric missing? He would have told me where he was. He had always informed me when he was leaving, even if he knew that I wouldn’t be pleased by his departure. How could he be missing? The drainers had no methods that Godric wouldn’t have been able to overcome. He was too old, too powerful for drainers to have taken him. And based on the conversation of prisoners downstairs, I doubted there was nothing these racists could do that Godric wouldn’t simply be able to bat away. That wouldn’t stop me from questioning him, most vigorously.

I despised the newest addition to the prison in the basement. Royce Allen Williams. It constantly talked, finally admitting shame for past actions, only now, when confronted with imminent demise. I knew these weak types. If released, he would return exactly to his old ways, claim it was an act of God and continue on with dishonorable acts. My teeth were already on edge and then when it discussed escaping… I couldn’t control my rage.

Pam sighed loudly when she heard its plans to escape.

“Don’t fuck up your hair,” she demanded as I stood to go collect it.

“I won’t Pam, I’ll bring it up, let Chow do the dirty work, and then he can put the rat back in it’s cage.”

She huffed, but didn’t stop me.

I strolled down to the basement silently.

“I got a plan. I'm busting us out,” the racist claimed.

“Don't be an idiot,” the V dealer advised wisely.

“I'll come back for you. Promise,” the man claimed. I made some noise so they would know I was coming. I heard their heart rates jump and it was almost enough to make me smile. I hummed softly to myself.

“Shh, Shut up.”

“Shushing won't do you any good, Sweetheart. We hear everything. Since you made me come all the way down here, I'm gonna take out some of the garbage,” I told them as I removed the cape that Pam had placed on me to prevent the chemicals in my hair from staining my clothes. I knelt down in front of the pathetic piece of trash that had burned Malcom, Liam, and Diane’s nest to the ground. “Royce Allen Williams, we have a few questions for you, with regard to a fire which killed three of our kind.” I stared him down.

“No fucking way, man. I don't know anything,” he said, pretending to not be afraid, but I could hear his heart pounding.

“Crimes against vampires are on the rise. We even lost a Sheriff just days ago. We seek answers.” I unchained him and pushed him forward and then, most surprisingly, he turned and struck me across the face.

He screamed at me, “Die, you dead fucker!”

I was furious when I felt the burn of silver against my face, how had I not noticed? The stench of human filth was disgusting and overwhelming. One more reason to not chain prisoners this way; it was impossible to scent silver through the odor.

That silver burn against my skin… it amplified all the emotions I had been trying to resist. My fear, my rage, my bloodlust. It all came pouring forth.

I eviscerated him where he stood, drinking his filthy blood and pulling off several of his limbs. It was, in no way, satisfying. I felt worse than before, still thirsty, and more on edge than ever. I tossed an arm away, and it accidentally splattered against the final prisoner, the V dealer, Lafayette Reynolds.

“If you have any silver on you, now would be the time to reveal it,” I told him.

From his hiding spot behind a post he called out, “No way. I ain't that stupid.”

“Yes, you are,” I replied. And then I noticed how much blood I had on my hands. I went to wipe my mouth and realized I had splattered it all over. “Is there blood in my hair?” I asked the man.

“What?” he responded. Was he an idiot or just hard of hearing?

“Is there blood in my hair?” I asked him again, louder.

“I..I don't know, I can't see in this light,” he stuttered out.

I zoomed over to him.

“How about now?” I asked, looking into his deep eyes.

“Yeah, there's a little bit of blood there,” he stammered, his heart pounded deliciously. At least he was honest. I wished I could scent him more, but all I could smell was the blood of the racist and the foul scent of human waste.

“Well this is bad. Pam is gonna kill me,” I realized out to loud to him.

“Who the fuck is Pam?” he asked and I found it amusing that he had so quickly forgotten his place.

“Why, do you wanna meet her?” I asked, toying with him.

“No. No. I'm good,” he replied, and I found his mock confidence charming.

“Well, you're going to,” I told him as I unchained him.

“Where are you taking me?” he asked as I held him by the back of the neck and pushed him forward.

“To find out what you know,” I explained, kicking the remaining bits of the racist out of the way. “I wouldn't try anything rash if I were you. I'm still hungry.”

I brought him up to the office where Pam and Chow were waiting, I pushed him into the chair opposite the desk as Pam started berating me.

“What the fuck, Eric!” she snapped. “You’ve ruined your hair!”

She had already been upset with me, and now this?

“I’m sorry Pam, it was not my intention,” I told her with a sigh, I didn’t often apologize to her, but it was called for.

I sat on the stool, she put a fresh cape on me, and then she began to assess the damage.

“This is a disaster. We'll have to go much shorter than I planned.”

“Yeah, well, I said I was sorry, Pam. But he took silver to me,” I explained. I looked at the V dealer, Lafayette Reynolds. “You were there. You saw it. Defend me,” I urged him.

“I don't know what it is you wanna know, but point me in the direction, and I give to you,” he told me earnestly and fearfully.

“I've seen your website,” I started, Chow had shown me it earlier. It was an impressive bit of tawdriness, and I was certain it was lucrative. “It's quite, uh, low rent. But your clients miss you, Lafayette. They're wondering if you're ever coming back.”

“Am I?” he asked, and I let the silence linger. “Look, I'm here because of the V, right? How 'bout I give you the names of everybody I ever sold to?” Already so cooperative? Lovely.

“And all this time I thought prostitutes were good at keeping secrets,” Pam snarked, knowing the prevarication of that statement more than anyone. Prostitutes would only keep a secret for a price, and for her the price had always been quite high.

“Don't get it twisted, honeycomb, I'm a survivor first, a capitalist second, and a whole bunch of other shit after that. But a hooker, dead last. So if I got even a Jew at an al Qaeda pep rally shot at getting my black ass up out this motherfucker, I'm taking it. Now, what you wanna know?”

Pam smiled, absolutely delighted, and I could see why. This Lafayette Reynolds was a cut from the exact same cloth as her.

A survivor first, a businesswoman second, and a hooker dead last.

“The vampire you had your little arrangement with. Eddie Fournier. What happened to him?” I asked.

“I don't know. I swear to God I don't. Last time I saw him he was doing real good. But I think he may have been taken by somebody,” Lafayette had hesitated to tell me this information, he must have an inkling of the perpetrator.

“By whom?” I prompted.

“I don't know,” he started. “I mean I ain't sure.”

“Hm, that's not very forthcoming of you,” I told him. I looked over at my enforcer, who had been waiting so very patiently. “Chow, you're up.”

“No! No, chill out. Shit,” Lafayette held up his hand to Chow, motioning for him to stop, and then Lafayette caved. “I think it... I think it was... Jason Stackhouse.”

“Jason Stackhouse?” I asked, nonplussed.

“Sookie's brother,” Pam reminded me in Swedish. “Could be fun,” she added and then I remember him. Handsome, AB negative, and he had come to the bar looking for vampire blood.

“Fun, but also stupid. Sookie is too important for us now,” I reminded Pam. She was an asset, one that I wanted working for me.

“That's true,” Pam agreed, reluctantly.

“Sadly, this information is of no use to me. Not now, anyway,” I told the confused looking Lafayette. Then I moved on to the line of questioning that I had been most anxious to discuss. “I understand dealers of vampire blood sometimes trade product with one another across state lines. Any buyers in the Dallas area?” I asked, revealing some of what I had learned from the drainers before I had killed them. Their blood was all bagged up and sitting in the freezer now, and the irony of draining drainers was not lost on me.

“One,” Lafayette said right away, cooperating fully. “He never gave me his name though. I have an e-mail address. Pussylover9@shemail.com.”

Pam smirked at the email address, and I wondered briefly if she was going to change her online handle.

“A friend of mine in the Dallas area, his name is Godric, has gone missing. Now, while the circumstances of his disappearance are unclear, it stands to reason his blood would be very valuable, as he's over twice my age and ten times the vampire I will ever be,” I said and realized that I had said more than I wanted. That my worries about him were sliding smoothly from my tongue and that I needed to feed again if I was ever going to get myself under control.

“Oh Eric, you don't do humble well,” Pam said teasingly, trying to lighten my mood. She knew with Godric missing, I was more on edge than ever.

“I was not being humble. This happens to be true,” I nearly snapped at her again, and I saw her hurt at my behavior toward her. I focused back on my line of questioning.“Your associate, this ‘pussylover’, has he or she mentioned any new product coming on the market?”

“No, no. And I would tell you. You know that,” he told me and I knew that he was honest, but it frustrated me to no end that he had nothing that could help.

I turned to Chow and asked him, “Take our guest and lock him back out, will you?”

Lafayette jumped to his feet. “Fuck that, I ain't going back down there. I gave you…”

“You gave me nothing!” I shouted, furious that this man had no information that would lead to Godric.

“I'm not going back.” Lafayette tried to push Chow away, and I gave the order again.

“Chow, now.”

Lafayette fought against Chow and I found it curious. I couldn’t help but be impressed by his vigor, his fight, his passion.

“I gave you every... I gave you everything! I ain't going back down!” he continued to shout as Chow manhandled him back down to the basement.

It was then that I heard the sound of an additional human heart beat and the soft scent of roses. I reached out to my blood in Jane and, of course, she was standing in the hall outside the office. What in Hel was she doing here?

The door creaked open and there was sweet little Jane. Her eyes widened as she took in my appearance. Perhaps this would scare her off for good.

“Jane,” I greeted her.

“I guess I should have called,” she said meekly.

“Yes,” I replied. She certainly had the power understatement. I turned to Pam, “Leave us. I need to glamour her.” Pam looked over at Jane and shook her head, leaving the office and shutting the door behind her. Why had Jane even come here? I didn’t want to have to do this, but she left me with no choice! I looked over at little Jane, she looked especially young and doll-like. “I have to glamour you now. You realize that?”

“Why?” she asked, clearly confused.

I prayed for the patience of Baldr, and I rested my hands on my desk. She drove me absolutely insane.

“You saw one of the prisoners, and he recognized you, even. What is to prevent you from telling the human authorities what you saw?” I asked her, and she stared me down.

“I won’t,” she promised. “It’s none of their business. You’re the Sheriff. He was the V dealer, I assume?” she asked, crossing her arms, and pushing her perfect bosom higher.

“Yes,” I acknowledged.

“I won’t tell anyone I saw him. Please… don’t glamour me,” she begged me and I saw her lip tremble in fear. I believed she wouldn’t give up this information knowingly, but her mind was open to any vampire, and now the telepath as well. I had to glamour her, for her own safety.

“It’s too dangerous for you as well. Especially now that you’re friends with a telepath, your silence could incriminate you,” I explained to her. Those dark blue green eyes of hers steeled and I could help but feel proud of her. She could be quite brave, facing something that she feared so greatly.

“What will you do? Make me forget?” she asked.

“That path leads to many problems, as you saw with Ginger. You will retain the memory, but you won’t be able to think of it. You will know, but you won’t be able to say anything about it.” I didn’t want to have to glamour her, and I worried about this.I knew too much glamouring would damage her mind. And her mind was a unique one.

She nodded at me, drawing her courage around her.

I hated this. I remember what she had told me, that it felt like mind rape. I never wanted to make her feel violated, especially in light of the other trauma she had experienced.

“Fine,” she told me and I began the glamour.

“Jane.”

Her eyes glazed over and I imposed my will on her.

“You will not be able to think of the man that you saw Chow take to the basement. You will not speak of what you witnessed to anyone.”

“Of course,” she agreed.

I released her and she lurched to the trash bin, vomiting. Humans and their fluids. I’d had enough of them today. She sat on the couch, and I felt her through the blood. I felt her upset. Why did she do this? It made me hate myself.

“Why did you come?” I asked her.

“I wanted to talk to you. I can see that you’re... busy. I’ll go. I’ll text or call next time,” she told me vaguely, standing to leave. I grabbed her arm, my intention had been to ask her to elaborate, to explain what her purpose was but I felt her warmth beneath my hand and all my urges to devour and claim her came hurtling to the surface. The look she gave me, the feeling from her in the blood...lust. She wanted me. She wanted me even when I was covered in blood.

My fangs dropped hard and I was seconds away from biting her throat and fucking her on my desk.

What the fuck was wrong with me? I released her quickly and forced my fangs up painfully.

“Jane. Things are...tense. With my Maker missing,” I tried to explain, but I really couldn’t. I couldn’t explain my loss of control around her.

“Let me know if I can help,” she offered sweetly.

She had no idea of the danger I posed to her, I shook my head at her. “I will not hurt you again,” I promised her.

She smiled her strange sad smile, the one that made the area where my heart used to pulse ache.

“Goodnight, Eric,” she said softly, and then she left.

What the fucking Hel!? I slammed my hand against the wall, creating a crack in the plaster and I didn’t give a flying fuck.

What was wrong with me?

****

The next evening I took Pam to the mall and allowed her to shop and style me as she pleased. It seemed the very least I could do and having my childe close brought me comfort. I wore Godric’s platinum coated fang around my throat, as if wearing it would allow me to find him.

As we were strolling through the mall, who should we see but Bill fucking Compton.

Then, in a stroke of genius, I had an idea. Bill’s telepathic human could search for Godric. Sookie could investigate the humans at the Fellowship of the Sun and see if Stan’s assertion that they were behind Godric’s disappearance was correct.

“Go to the bar Pam, I’ll meet you there after I negotiate with Billy boy,” I told her. She brushed invisible lint from the navy tracksuit she had dressed me in and then departed with a smile. While it wasn’t what I would choose for myself, I was fine with indulging my child in her game of dressup.

I strolled through the store, and meandered over to Bill.

“Good evening, old sport,” I greeted him, hoping to make him feel at ease. He would be easier to bargain with if he was in a giving mood.

“Eric?” he said, astounded, by either my presence or my new attire, it was hard to say.

“It's the new me. You like?” I asked, smirking. How many times do we have to reinvent ourselves?

“I do. Very much,” Bill agreed, the Mainstreamer he was, he would likely follow all the latest human trends. I almost scoffed at the idea of him wearing one of those hats that truckers wear. The sales associate that had been attempting to hit on him, backed away sheepishly.

“Oh, okay,” she looked between us and I realized that she thought we were a couple. Hilarious, as if Bland Bill could stir my passions.

“We need to talk,” I told him.

He glared and I led him away from the humans and began to explain.

“The Sheriff of Area 9 in Texas has gone missing. Have you heard about that?”

“I hadn't, but I know the vampire of whom we speak. His name is Godric, correct?”

I wondered how Bill knew of Godric. But Godric’s reputation did precede him.

“Indeed. Now it goes without saying he needs to be found. Which is where Sookie comes in. As she's yours, I'm asking your permission to take her with me to Dallas,” I explained my plan to him.

“Eric, you can do whatever you want with me, but I am not putting her in this position anymore. I cannot and I will not allow you to bring her into these matters,” he said, not even attempting to barter with me.

“We made a deal, your human and I. That if I didn't kill, she would work for me as often as I like. Now, you remember this, don't you? You were there,” I reminded him.

“Taking her across state lines is a far cry from taking her to Fangtasia for the evening,” Bill said sternly, clearly not willing to discuss this further. What a fool.

“I'm only asking your permission out of respect. If I want her, I can simply take her. Is "no" your final answer?” I asked him.

“It is,” he said firmly.

I shook my head, and replied, “Poorly played, Bill.”

He wasn’t even willing to try to bargain with me, and I wondered again about his purpose with the telepathic waitress. I checked my phone on the way out of the mall, surprised to see that I missed several calls from Pam. I called her as I strolled out.

“You rang?” I asked.

“Mmm, yeah, the lovely Lafayette Reynolds tried to escape and Ginger shot him,” Pam said in her usual tone.

“Is he dead?” I asked her in Swedish.

“Not yet, our meretricious little Macgyver dug the metal hip out of his dead compadre with his teeth, used it to break his chains, and then attempted to seduce Ginger into letting him go,” Pam explained gleefully. “I like him, can we keep him?”

��Creative,” I commented as I exited the mall. “I’ll be there soon.”

I went behind the mall and took off in flight. I had to stop and pick up the accounting work from Bruce, and then I was able to return to Fangtasia. I strolled into the back, checking over the numbers for the bar. It was scented with rich thick blood, flavorful and powerful...full of untapped potential.

“Sorry to keep you waiting for so long,” I said as I entered the office. “How's the leg?” I asked Lafayette.

“Shitty. Thanks for asking,” he replied with sarcasm at his pain and Pam grinned again.

“After all your proclamations about what a model prisoner you were going to be, you had to try to escape,” I said, curious about his reasoning, but he did say he was a survivor first. I couldn’t really begrudge him that.

“You were going to kill me anyway, right?” he asked next and Pam smirked. We’d certainly have to kill him now, he wasn’t going to make it without medical care.

“Now you'll never know. So, what's it gonna be, Lafayette? Would you like the leg to kill you, or would you prefer us to do it?”

“I'm gonna go with plan C,” he said and he surprised me, such a rare thing for a breather.

“There's a plan C?” I asked.

“Make me a vampire,” he offered.

“I beg your pardon?”

Then he began to make his case, “And you can put me to work in the bar. I'm a good dancer. You seen it on my site. Shit, I get up there and move Earth and heaven, go-go style.”

I came and stood over him, not sure what he knew about vampires and turning. “You are aware there's a gaping hole in your leg? You're damaged goods,” I tested him.

“Not if you turn me. I'll be good as ever.” So he did know at least that much. “Look, I... I'm already a person of poor moral character, so I'll hit the ground running. And I damn near glamour people already. Give me what y'all got, and it's on me, cracker. Not only will I be a badass vampire, but I'll be your badass vampire.”

For a moment, time was frozen. I was sucked into the memory of Pamela asking me to turn her, and me refusing, and her making her case to me. And then her killing herself anyway and I decided… I chose to have her by side, my companion.

My badass vampire.

I liked this Lafayette Reynolds. He lived with a sort of honesty that was rare, and he had shown himself to have the survival instincts and spirit that would take him through the ages. He interested me, and so very few men did. He also reminded me much of Pam and I could see that they would be excellent blood siblings, thick as thieves. It would be good to have youngling around, so fresh and eager...

I scented his rich blood, his untapped potential and….it all intrigued me.

Was I actually considering this, now, with my control all over and Godric missing? Was this just another way in which I was losing touch? No, best not to make any major decisions now. We could start to drink from him now, I could reconsider later, after I’d fed, and had a clearer head. He had a few good nights left in him still.

“Interesting. I'll take it under advisement,” I told him. “Pam, Chow, chowtime,” I offered and Chow grinned at my play on words, puns really were the height of humor.

Then, I leaned over and bit Lafayette.

He was absolutely delicious.

[tintinxtintin]

"tonight is about you" {*} - nick amaro

needed some smutty/fluffy nick in my life, and i’m sure i’m not the only one either ;)

warnings: nsfw, dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), p in v penetration, some fluffy nick

note: i stewed on this fic for three days and somehow it’s not what i planned for it to be, but i still think it’s worth sharing. i hope you enjoy :)

words: 2k+

you groaned. there was nothing you hated more than paperwork. you'd just filled out a stack of it, having left yesterday's work for today. you hated when you did that; all it did was make you more miserable when you had more work to do.

you glanced at the clock on the wall above you. 4:52. eight more minutes of paperwork and then you'd be home free. your gaze shifted to the desk diagonal from yours. it was empty. annoyingly, your husband nick was off today. he got to stay in bed this morning while you begrudgingly got up and showered. granted, he did get up a few minutes before you left to make you coffee and say goodbye. reason number 287494033 why you loved nick.

you finally pushed the last of the paperwork away from you, slid your chair back from your desk, and stood up to leave. today had been a stressful day. you were up to your neck in paperwork, your mom had called and told you that your father had fallen ill, and you weren't able to make the trip to see them until the end of the week at the earliest. on top of all of that, you were incredibly horny because you and nick hadn't had much time to really enjoy each other's company lately. your jobs came with crazy hours. long days turned into long nights, and you were both too tired by the time you were both home.

liv, your captain, has noticed the change in your overall attitude the past few weeks. what normally is a bubbly and cheerful you, has been replaced with a somber and dreary version of you. while she didn't know the specifics as to why there had been a damper in your mood lately, she still understood that you'd been under a lot of stress lately. she decided to give your husband a call out of concern.

_

you eventually made it home, eager to see nick after a long day. you climbed the porch up to your house and were immediately met with a variety of scents. you could smell food, although you weren't exactly sure what it was. you also smelled laundry being done and it warmed your insides. the smell of clean laundry was almost enough to get you high, it seemed like. you loved the aroma of freshly washed clothes.

pushing your key into the door and unlocking it, you stepped into the house. it was clean, almost immaculate looking. the scent of food was much stronger now, and you recognized it as chicken. you could also faintly hear the dryer going from in the basement.

"mi vida, is that you?" nick's voice was far away, like he wasn't even in the house. you glanced into the bathroom down the hall and he wasn't in there. sure enough, a second later, the back door opened in the kitchen and there he was.

you'd always said that nick was by far the most attractive man you'd ever been with, and looking at him now, that was definitely an understatement. nick had on nothing but a smile and a pair of black sweatpants. they hugged his lower body just right, enough for you to see the prominent tent in the front of them. nick was definitely blessed in the dick department, there was no sugarcoating that. and by proxy, you guessed, that meant you were blessed too.

"you're so sexy, babe." you said, smiling up at him. nick would never admit it, but he was a sucker for praise and pet names. he loved feeling loved by you, and any affection from you made his heart flutter.

"thank you baby. how was work?" he padded over to you and leaned in for a kiss. his lips caught yours, and you pulled him closer, unwilling to let him pull away.

when he finally did, he moved his hands to your waist. you looked in his eyes, able to see the love he had for you in them. you relished the fact that nick was yours. he was everything you wanted in a husband and more. he cared about you and your hopes, dreams, and wishes. he loved you for who you were, and he certainly knew how to please you when the time came. in fact, you wanted that time to be now.

you pulled one of your hands from around his neck and trailed it down his chest. he must've worked out this morning; his abs were always slightly more bulging when he worked out. you kept your eyes on his as you lightly massaged his abs. he smirked, but made no attempt to further the moment.

"y/n, liv called me today." this got your attention. why would your boss be calling nick on his day off? and why hadn't she said anything to you about it?

"what for?"

"she's worried about you. says she's concerned you may need someone to talk to."

"i'm fine, nick. i've just been a little stressed is all." your hand started back up again, naughtily making its way down south. nick grabbed it, stopping you from going any further.

"baby, talk to me. what's got you so stressed out?" he had on his stern face. you knew he really wanted to have this conversation. but you were horny, and didn't want to have this conversation. at least not right now.

"i don't really want to talk about it right now. what i want now, nicky, is for you to fuck me."

that name. nick immediately recognized it. you only used it in bed, never anywhere else. he took a second to process your words, but not a moment longer. before you knew it, you were swept up into his arms, legs wrapped around his waist. his lips found yours and you smashed them together. you don't know how you got to your bedroom, but soon nick was laying you on the bed. he placed a kiss on our forehead, told you he had to go turn the food down, and left the room. you took the spare time to get completely naked, wanting to speed up the process.

you laid down your on back and waited for him to come back, your body shivering with anticipation. after an agonizing two minutes, nick returned with something in his mouth. you couldn't tell what it was as you couldn't see it due to his mouth being closed, but you suspected that it was big considering it made his cheeks puff out slightly.

nick locked eyes with you, slowly making his way to you and getting onto the bed. he climbed up to you, and just when you thought he would kiss your lips, he moved his head over and placed his mouth on your neck. you felt it and immediately knew what it was. he dragged the cold cube across your neck slowly, teasing you. he didn't stop there. the ice left a line of melted water down your body. his mouth trailed down to your chest, circling each nipple as he passed them, all the way down to your throbbing core. you were beyond wet at this point, your sex literally screaming for something, anything.

you moaned loudly when the ice cube came in contact with your wet cunt. the feeling of the chilly object combined with nick's tongue on your folds was too much. by now the ice was almost completely melted, leaving nick's tongue lapping at your wetness. your eyes rolled back in pleasure, your hands gripping the sheets. you attempted to wrap your legs around nick's head, but he stopped them and hooked his arms up and around them, effectively pinning them down. his tongue moved up and down your core expertly, darting in and out from time to time. you were a moaning mess, hands grabbing at anything they could find. the sheets, nick's hair, you even began kneading your own breasts to have something to pull on.

"fuck, nicky, that feels so good," you said, arching your back.

nick was sucking on your clit now, taking you to another level. that familiar buildup in your pelvis was there, egging you closer to your climax. you began to shake as nick moaned on your clit, sending vibrations throughout your whole body. you knew you wouldn't last much longer, you were already so close. nick knew you were almost there, you were pushing yourself towards his tongue.

"cum for me, mi tesoro." those words were all you needed to let go. you came all over nick's face, uttering his name as you rode out your high. he continued to tongue fuck you, your sensitive clit become overwhelmed. eventually nick pulled away with one last kiss on your cunt, the word "delicious" rolling out of his mouth. he climbed back up to kiss you, and your hand moved from out of his hair and down towards his hard cock. you palmed him through his sweats, but, once again, he stopped you. he knew what you were about to do.

"tonight is about you, cariño. i'm the one that's supposed to be making you feel good."

you smiled and nodded, kissing him again. in a matter of seconds, nick had his pants off and positioned himself at your entrance. he looked up at you before sliding in, waiting for your last minute approval. you gave him a yes, knowing he wouldn't except anything other than that.

you whimpered as his cock entered you, somehow still not adjusted to his size even after all the times he's been inside you. he groaned as he filled you completely, your tight cunt closing in on him made him want to bust then and there. he forced himself not to, and when he had your permission to keep going, he began thrusting into you. nick got into a rhythm, and he groaned your name a few times.

"harder, nicky. fuck me harder."

nick did as told, furiously fucking you. he grabbed your legs and pulled them up and over his shoulders, hitting your cunt at a new angle. you cried out in pleasure at the new feeling.

"shit, papi. oh my god." you babbled on, a slew of profanities falling from your lips.

nick loved watching you come undone under him. watching you being fucked made his cock even harder.

"you look so fucking sexy taking this cock, y/n." he continued pounding in and out of you, giving you no mercy. you loved every minute of it. he knew exactly how to fuck you, each time better than the last. nick prided himself on being a caring lover, but he also knew when to give it to you like no one else ever had. he always made you come like your life depended on it, never anything less.

you showered him with naughty nothings (what you two referred to as sweet nothing in the bedroom) until you were at the edge, and with one particularly hard pound against your g-spot, you creamed all over nick's cock. he felt you clench around him, sending him into his climax, seconds after you. you were both worn out and panting as he removed your legs from his shoulders and placing them back down on the bed. he laid down next to you, his cock still inside you. at first he said nothing, he just stared at you in awe. you had on your 'i just got fucked face' which nick would later tell you consisted of a euphoric expression and a half open mouth.

when you could finally focus, you leaned over and kissed him.

"thank you, nick. i love you."

"right back at you, mi vida. now why don't you tell me what's been on your mind?" he leaned up on his elbows and faced you, showing you that he was listening. the small gesture brought tears to your eyes. and through even more tears from you, and words of encouragement from nick, you told him the stressors that had captivated your life recently.

in the end, nick called liv back and relayed to her what you told him about your dad, and she immediately gave you guys the rest of the week off to go and see him. you thanked nick once more and the two of you went to the kitchen to eat the dinner that he'd prepared for you.

[blessuswithblogs]

Video Games are a God Damned Mess: Bad Business Practices, Unsustainability, and the Fidelity Plateau

(shoutouts to the anon rando in my inbox for telling me about the read more button you were kind of rude about it but i don’t use this website so i legit didn’t know)

The video game industry has always been a bit wild and wooly compared to its older contemporaries. The emergence of a new medium is always rife with upheaval as paradigms shift and people discover that the old rules don't necessarily apply all of the time. That said, the past three months have been filled with what I can really only describe as catastrophes for many disparate publishers and development studios.

 You may recall I talked a bit about this during my game of the year list and Fallout 76 analysis, but to recap: with Telltale shutting its doors and shafting its workers, the writing was on the wall for the same thing to happen again as the intrinsically unsustainable boom and bust cycle began the less glamorous stage. It turns out I was correct in my predictions but congratulating myself for seeing this coming is not unlike congratulating myself for accurately predicting that tomorrow will be Tuesday. Or. Whatever day it will be when I post this. fuck i dated the lp thread ruined LOOK the point is that this was really obviously going to happen and that nobody felt the need to prepare for it or try to stop it before 10% of Activision-Blizzard's workforce got canned is a major failure of the industry at large.

So let's talk a bit about what's happened since then. There's been a lot, so forgive me if I miss your favorite corporate implosion. First, at Blizzcon, Diablo Immortal was revealed to what actually might have been the most actively hostile reception of a game in history. This has less to do with the more financial aspects of the ongoing Videocon Crisis and more just kind of served as an ill omen and an example of Blizzard's worrying descent into... wherever it is they're going. If gross incompetence was a place, they would be descending into it. On paper, a Diablo mobile game is a money-printing proposition. When all is said and done Immortal will still probably make them gobs of cash. In practice, however, they fucked the landing so hard they probably lost potential sales. The kind of folks who go to Blizzcon and get omegahype for a new diablo game are not the kind of folks who play mobile games. Mobile games have a Stigma among the hardcore crowd, and also the Ethical Business Practices in Video Games crowd (which as of this writing appears to be me, Jim Sterling, and the Warframe devteam). For a lot of braindead gamerbros, mobile games are synonymous with things like Candy Crush and Peggle, which are perfectly fine games honestly but they're For Girls or some shit so mobile games are bad and for casuals. More pertinently, mobile games are also a ferocious jungle of microtransactions, pay2win mechanics, and generally shoddy design. Command and Conquer and Dungeon Keeper, beloved franchises that have been ripe for revisiting for years now, both found mobile games and they were both utterly terrible. These games make a great deal of their money by exploiting "whales", or in actual human being language, vulnerable people with disposable income and difficulties with impulse control or addictive personalities. Or kids who know their mom's creditcard number. Kids play video games. Now that we are no longer kids (theoretically, anyway) it can be easy to forget that. I'm not the pearl-clutching type, but I think that stigmatizing a genre of games that proudly touts an exploitative-of-children business model is probably okay.

So there are lots of reasons to be skeptical of Diablo Immortal right out of the gate, and quite frankly whoever thought that just pushing that out there with literally no other Diablo related news items (like any whispers of the long coveted hd remaster of diablo the second) was either transferred in from another company the day before or had some kind of unspeakable grudge against the scheduled presenters, to whom my heart goes out to. There is also some undeniable precedent that Blizzard-Activision will, in all likelihood, monetize the everloving daylights out of it. Both Hearthstone and Overwatch have more or less become nicely polished vehicles with which to deliver lootboxes to players for a nominal fee. If this hadn't been followed by a seemingly unceasing calvacade of disasters, the whole debacle would have been really funny to point and laugh at. It's still pretty funny to point and laugh at, but it also has some less amusing implications. Blizzard in particular has been up to a lot of no good lately. Let's talk a little bit about their recent one-two punch.

First up, we have the complete and sudden abandonment of competitive support for Heroes of the Storm. Heroes of the Storm was essentially Blizzard's seething regret and resentment for letting Valve snatch up the whole Defense of the Ancients thing put into code and unleashed upon an unwitting populace. It had actually been gaining some renewed interest over the past year or so due to the developers putting in some elbow grease and making the game both more accessible and just. More better. HotS has also had a modest but respectable eSports scene since the game's launch, with a variety of professional players, shoutcasters, tournament organizers and emergency bugfixers employed. Many of them were anxious about their jobs for months in advance with no word from the higher ups about who would still be employed by 2019. Sometimes, companies have to make difficult decisions and let people go to keep operating. Even my communist ass reluctantly accepts this as a reality of the system we live in. However, there is a protocol about this kind of thing. Giving notice. Giving, you know, severance pay. Stuff like that. And of course this presupposes that this sort of cut to the workforce is actually necessary in the first place. Given that AB subsequently reported record profits for the year of 2018, I have some doubts. Completely dropping support for a game out of the blue is a scummy thing to do to your playerbase. When it is also directly impacting the livelihood of hundreds of people in your employ, it goes beyond scummy and turns right into Unacceptable.

But "unacceptable" is Bobby Kotick's favorite word in the English language so while shoving hundred dollar bills from his latest corporate bonus up his butt he and his friends in the boardroom decided that the HotS esports people might get lonely, so they had better go and fire another 10% of the workforce too. Just because. Like literally just because. His company is doing fine - better than fine! They are at record levels of better than fine. But the shareholders demand more and more exponential growth, so to cut costs that really didn't need cutting, away goes 10%. Will game quality suffer because of this? Undoubtedly. More work being piled on fewer people who are also living in mortal fear of losing their jobs Just Because is not a recipe for success. People are mad about this, much like people were/are mad about Fallout 76 - players of games, industry wonks, and iconic voice actresses alike are no longer tolerating this kind of thing in Two Thousand and Nineteen, Common Era. Nor should they!

Elsewhere in the Game-o-sphere, similar developments are brewing. ArenaNet, the folks wot do Guildwars, went through another round of mass layoffs. EA's stocks have plummeted and Battlefield V "failed to meet expectations" because it only sold A Ton and not A Fuckin Shit Ton, and Anthem is not really lighting the world on fire. After Mass Effect Andromeda's... curious debut, Bioware has probably been feeling the heat and a lot of people are concerned that it too will suffer the ultimate fate of all studios acquired by Electronic Arts: joining Visceral Games in a broken heap at the bottom of the garbage chute. Bring back Dead Space you motherfuckers. Bethesda continues to, improbably, suffer through PR disaster after PR disaster with Fallout 76, a game that seemingly cannot stop fucking up. Ubisoft has received some positive attention for vowing to NOT lay off hundreds of employees for no discernible reason, which leads me to believe that our standards for praiseworthy behavior have dropped alarmingly low. Even 2K Games in all of its monolithic glory seems to be feeling a bit of a Stock Price Squeeze. Honestly by the time I get this done and posted it's entirely possible that somebody else will fuck something up. I'm still kind of waiting on the fallout from Randy Pitchford's porn thumbdrive, but I'm also a little bit pleased that Actual Money Crimes are getting more traction in the news cycle.

So, returning to the main point: the industry is in a bad situation of its own making. It's a scene that's almost always been defined by trend-chasing. For a while, that meant that we would just have to suffer through an endless glut of EXTREME SPORTS GAMES SPONSORED BY A DUDE or a barrage of samey console shooters desperately trying to be Halo every once in a while. Unfortunately, the trend-chasing now extends not only to the games themselves, but to the methods by which they are monetized. Ever since DLC became a mainstream thing, the brightest minds of the boardrooms have been working tirelessly to deduce which method of fleecing players will scientifically speaking get them the most money. Inevitably, when some enterprising little weasel develops a new and improved monetization scheme, the rest of the little weasels will immediately latch on to that scheme and that's how you end up with Battlefront 2's ridiculous lootbox grind and Shadow of War's ludicrous inclusion of randomized lootboxes in a singleplayer action-adventure game. While I'm certain that the platonic ideal of the lootbox has existed in some form or another for decades now, I think that we can squarely lay the blame for the Great Lootbox Plague of the Twenty-Tens at the feet of Valve.

Valve has been known for questionable business practices for a while now (albeit in a more lowkey way than We Fired 800 People So Bobby Kotick Could Buy a New Yacht), largely getting away with it because Steam has been more or less unchallenged as the premier digital distribution service for video games. This might be changing soon, as Epic Games is going straight for the jugular with a number of aggressive moves with its own fledgling platform, but historically, Valve has faced very few consequences for just kind of being petulantly antagonistic towards its userbase because said userbase is easily mollified by steam sales and Gaben memes. When people think lootboxes in 2019, they probably think of games like Overwatch or Battlefront 2 or basically any contemporary multiplayer game. I certainly do, but a bit of fact finding allowed me to remember that Valve has been doing this shit since Counterstrike and Team Fortress 2, and Dota 2's byzantine cosmetics market can't be overlooked either. All three of these games are or were at one point genre leaders and made Valve so much money they basically decided that they didn't really need to make games anymore. A reasonable conclusion to draw, given the fact all three of these games are inextricably linked to their history as very popular mods. Valve just outsources a great deal of its labor to dedicated, naive fans and gives them a pittance of the huge mounds of dollars they make from their hard work. It's a good racket, but it has set an alarmingly poor example to the rest of the gaming world.

Games as a service, in concept, is fine for games that lend themselves well to the idea. MMOs have been using a variation of the model for decades now and that genre is actually like, Perplexingly Healthy. Free to play games like League of Legends and Warframe have also had success with a service model. The problem comes from the AAA Game industry's pathological insistence on shoving square pegs into things that don't even have holes to begin with. Shadow of War, or Assassin's Creed, or any other major singleplayer offering, has no business whatsoever being a Live Service. They are finite experiences by design and that's completely fucking fine and normal. Appending microtransactions and lootboxes to them is a transparent attempt to just suck up a little bit more money from players in the most unsustainable way possible. Here is a small hint if some WB Games bigwig stumbles upon this: first of all, I'm building a guillotine, so you better watch your ass. Second, how dare you fucking make Shelob a sexy lady. Third, (this is the one that is probably most relevant): People are willing to pay as they go for cosmetics and timesavers for games that they like and want to support. I've dumped a lot of money into League over the years because there was a period of time where I was playing it nonstop and having a wonderful time for quite literally no cost to myself, so I felt like buying the cute Panda Annie Skin was a good compromise. Regrettably I would later learn that there are aspects of Riot Games I'm not super okay with giving money to but at the time they seemed agreeable and my friends who work there gotta get payed somehow. This whole dynamic of wanting to support a video game goes out the damn window when you are already charging a $60 entry fee, plus whatever highway robbery pricing you put on the inevitable DLC. In this case, the onus is squarely upon the publisher to provide an experience and content one would reasonably expect of the pricetag. Putting in microtransactions for cosmetics is galling. Putting in microtransactions for actual game progression, like in Battlefront 2 or Shadow of War, is outright insulting.

Many will leap to the defense of these publishers and developers, saying that these measures are necessary to make these ludicrously expensive and lavish AAA games that all look suspiciously like one another. For the time being, let's accept this as a true statement. If this is, in fact, the state of affairs in the industry, then the industry needs to change to a more sustainable business model. When playing Destiny 2, during a big space cutscene, the cute pilot lady ferrying me to The Large Molerat Man's Murderboat had beautifully rendered skin where you could see the pores and the little wispy cheek hairs that swayed to the momentum of the space plane's movements. It was very nice but then the next year or so I heard nothing but people pointing out "hey this game has no content you dipshits" or "the devteam is actually scamming people with the experience system to wring more playtime out of them". The cheek hairs affair succeeded in making me want the pilot to buy me dinner and regail me with stories of her space adventures as I batted my lashes at her in romantic admiration, but also: stop it. You do not need to do this. This is strictly unnecessary. The graphics arms race of yesteryear is over. Nobody cares anymore. Fidelity is plateauing harder and harder, to the point where games running properly on console without having to settle for 30FPS is becoming very difficult. There is an Earth B somewhere out there where Bloodborne was not a sony exclusive and got a PC release with 60FPS support and loading times for humans and on Earth B I am still playing that game for the forseeable future because it is the best game ever. We are far past the paradigm where we are making Tremendous Graphical Leaps with each successive generation. Right now, as of this writing, games look jawdroppingly good. Just ludicrously pretty and grandiose. Continuing to push the graphical envelope for Every Damn Annual Release is a waste of resources: monetary resources, labor resources, system resources. As of March, 2019, what people really want is stability and functionality. Something that runs nice and smooth at 60FPS and doesn't turn its characters randomly into nightmare inverse-Rayman beasts. I think the huge success of the Nintendo Switch, a console with relatively modest hardware but superb functionality, portability, and a surprisingly full featured library of both massive first party titles, like Breath of the Wild and Mario Odyssey (which honestly look better than a lot of games on more robust hardware because of wonderful art direction) and smaller indie games, is testament to this line of thinking.

Maybe that's too bold of a statement. Maybe there's this huge swath of the gaming public that is just clamoring for more cheek hairs. If there are I think they're fucking out of their minds but who am I to judge. As long as games like that werewolf game The Order exist, where the universal reaction is "this is so pretty!!! ...wait there's nothing in here." I think that there is a serious responsibility to push back against that because evidently it's bankrupting the game industry and forcing them to violate international gambling laws to stay afloat. Except it's fucking not, actually. Many publishers are claiming record profits, upward trends, and are in a spot to have the raw nerve to say "well this game that sold 7 million copies didn't sell 8 million copies so it failed to meet expectations". They are doing ludicrously well for themselves in terms of generating revenue from sales. Where these highly successful corporations are running into problems is satisfying the almighty Shareholders. Shareholders are sort of like. Imagine if you got a job where you had to keep a large committee of actual babies happy, except the babies don't know shit about fuck about anything and demand that you routinely break all reasonable laws of sustainability and keep bringing in exponentially higher profits or they will take their ball and go home. There is still, evidently, money enough to give newly hired executives million dollar signing bonuses, but when it comes to just making a game that doesn't fall back on exploiting people with gambling addictions, we're suddenly dealing with an outfit of noble, longsuffering churchmice just trying to make ends meet. People are rapidly getting fed up with this blatant hypocrisy and dishonesty. Sales from Hearthstone card packs alone could fund a robust HotS esports scene for eternity if properly apportioned. This money is not properly apportioned. It is thrown into a gigantic incinerator so Kotick can get high on the fumes.

You might be wondering what this girls' deal is with Blizzard. Surely there are more egregious offenders? Firstly, Blizzard is very relevant at the moment because they are one of the highest profile publishers to recently Do A Business Oopsie. Secondly, I live in Irvine, California. Blizzard HQ is a ten minute drive from where I live. It's a local company to me, and it's legitimately kind of hard to see it continue to go down this path because I've had friends and neighbors who have worked there and enthusiastically described the experience right up until the very moment they get canned for no reason. My alma mater, UC Irvine, is one of the leading schools in the nation on adopting eSports into their collegiate athlete program. I understand, to a lot of people, Electronic Sports (please support them) are a big joke silly thing, but to me and my family who work in the UC system, they're actually like a huge and pertinent part of professional life. I'm literally being consulted by my mom's co-workers for advice and insight on how to minimize the abusive and toxic behavior that has become synonymous with streaming and professional gaming because campus now has a huge eSports center with rows on rows of gaming computers for students to use. Games Are Big. They are a powerful cultural and economic force in the lives of millions of people and denying that because of "haha nerds" is the same shortsighted, utterly-lacking-in-self-awareness wanking that resulted in the stupendously destructive "its just the internet, it doesnt matter lol" attitude that has caused the world so much grief. That said Bart Simpson becoming an esports legend sponsored by Riot Games is still pretty lame don't @ me.

What it comes down to is this: the games industry has grown into a hugely influential and powerful institution that affects the lives of more and more people every day. However, the appropriate growth in regulation, oversight, and worker protection has not occurred and has honestly shrunk. People love to talk up Satoru Iwata because when the Wii U was floundering he took a massive pay cut and refused to lay off any staff, reasoning that "it will be very difficult for our teams to create software that will impress the world when they are constantly worrying about losing their jobs." It's a little incredible that The Baseline Reasonable Thing To Do has elicited such effusive praise, but that's the world we live in and Iwata-san was pretty alright so I'm okay with it. Both his conduct and reasoning are both solidly above reproach in this case: it is really hard to be creative when the Sword of Damocles is hanging over your head! That’s 500% true! This goes for game developers, community managers, eSports staff, support staff, literally every part of the process that matters, even the totally unrelated clerks and communications people who are still completely necessary for creating games. The only people who don't suffer are the dipshits on top who don't actually contribute to the creation of games in any way. They're still fine. Better than fine, really. That's why people are mad. That's why people SHOULD be mad. Don't stand for this anymore.

[justurneighboorhoodfriendlybg]

I wrote my suicide letter

When I said people their section, I’m just gonna say it was for therapeutic reasons

What I’m not gonna tell them is that I wrote just in case I’d b too strung out if I’d really do it. Cause the best way it sounds like to do it is an OD

But anyways, that’s not what we’re focusing on

I wrote this and I feel like I shouldn’t share it to here. But I will cause

This is my dairy

This is the page where I can say anything I want

Post anything I want

Do anything I want n still have a good expectation of privacy

Cause on this public platform no one cares about me (lol almost like real life)

But just as a preface: I wrote this in one of our trials n tribulations. And if I sound stupid, please someone inbox me and give me the dose of reality I need. Also the letter started out as just as me venting in the notes on dudes computer and turned into a letter.

And without further ado:

how I feel/my last note

i will never be enough for anyone. I was so stupid to think i would get an happily ever after.

the ONLY reason i won’t kill myself is that it will make the most important person in my life too sad.

but once they die i can’t tell you what I’m going to do

I’m tired

of not being good enough

I’m tired of the way i look

I’m tired of the way i act

I’m tired of having waste my breath on people who don’t want even listen

Im tired of trying so hard to be good

trying so hard to be on the straight and narrow

and no matter what I’m always the fuck up

I’ve failed my mother in so many ways i don’t understand how she still loves me

i really thought arthur loved me, i really thought it was over for me in the dating game

i really thought i had found my soulmate

but he doesn’t want me either

all these girls in his phone, he face timed that girl

trynna link with that other one on tinder

all in the name of the “Threesome”

FUCK THAT

he just wants more, i am not enough. If it was really for the threesome you would have mentioned me

BUT YOU NEVER DO, except for twice and those both were a bust.

also the whole second wife shit

like WTF

i am never gonna have anything

Why did the lord make such a useless life.

just for me to never have anything

well i have my mother

and ruby’

i miss my chikitika

its not that i don’t love madam

but when arthurs done with me he can keep her

ill go back to being alone like i always am

i really wish i could end it all right now without causing my family pain

i haven’t forgotten about my “friends”

which the two most important ones arthur says their fake

but i miss them

i miss them so bad

i need to talk to them more

I know buddy has her mental problems but that doesn’t mean she’s faking

she’s going through a tough time and for the first time in a long ass time she didn’t have me to call and stay on the phone for hours

or with jade

we talked everyday

and now look at us

she doesn’t wan t to be my friend anymore

after All we’ve been through

after all we’ve talked about and experienced together

she’s pissed

cause i went MIA in the time she needed me the most

but this summer didn’t count ( to me at least)

its been a difficult summer and so far a difficult fall

this summer around my birthday, i just completely shut down

I’ve been going through shit too

but i don’t tell anyone

and I’m not going to try either

whats the point?

if i tell my mother, it’ll just make her sadder

i wasn’t there for jade, so why do i expect her to be there for me

and Buddy, i honestly can’t think of a good reason not to tell her. i know she’ll hear me and she’ll definitely understand

but what if she doesn’t

skyway was always me and jades plan

buddy and i were planning on doing a road trip of a life time filled with sights seeing and intense partying

and then we’d overdose together

and actually overdose his time

how much molly is too much?

i bet dying from an overdose of molly is a strangely intense feeling

but dying from an overdose of molly when on about at least 50 abs of acid. Maybe a whole sheet

sounds like id fry my brain

so if i miraculously survive i will be too braindead to even live and ill authorize buddy to pull the plug

cause when this happens i won’t have my mother around, She’ll already be in heaven

hopefully she’s forgotten all about me and she can rejoice in heaven with my grandma forever

i am already dead

my life: useless

the person i called my soulmate: i am not enough for him, i stress hiM out, i give him headaches. I don’t look good enough, i don’t do enough around the house, I’m lazy asf

HE WILL ALWAYS FIND SOMETHING WRONG BECAUSE I AM NOT WHAT HE WANTS

he’s still stuck on his ex’s

well they can have him cause I’m not going to keep anyone that doesn’t want to be kept

you know what this looks like? my suicide note

cause ima definitely leave a note. I can’t leave without saying my last words.

and fuck them if they listen to it or not thats on their soul

not mine

incase in the future when/if i do this and I’m too out of it to write letters, I’m going to leave this here. is not like arthur is going to read it. its too long for him too care this much and sit-down and read the whole thing. I’m sure in his mind it’ll be not worth the headache

so i will have some final statements that i think will forever ring true:

To whom it may concern,

im done. Its over. i really did my best to give it the good ole college try, but i can’t anymore. To whomever feels like they should blame yourself; please don’t, Because my mind has been made up, and nothing can change it except the lord himself. Don’t think “well maybe if i texted more/called more/ tried to be more in her life then maybe…. “ its all bullshit. you guys don’t need me in your life. you’ll find better companions, hopefully companions that will be good enough for you.

Jade: i will always love you because you are my best friend. All that time we spent together really helped me become who i was. You’re smart, crafty, beautiful and i know the world is going to want to destroy you in every way possible. be strong, stronger than i was. Cause you deserve the life you want/ With a husband that you’re completely in love with and he loves you back even more. And that he has a six figure job so he can spoil you with everything you desire, and that your kids may grow and prosper. You deserve your jerry, niklous is a dead dream cause you longer want me apart of your life. But thats ok, everyone says friends grow apart but you’ll always be my best friend. So even if I’m not in your life, you’ll always be in mine.

Buddy: my little sensitive sushi. we’ve been best friends forever. You’re one the purest souls. You’re honest, you always keep it real, (lol at least to me) I could never lie to you. And i really haven’t. You just want you to be free, to be happy. Fuck the money, fuc all this other shit. You jus want genuine happiness and love, and i really hope you find it. And i really hope you tell her kids about their tia krystal and that she would have loved them so much, she would have damn been their second mother. buddy i love you and you’re too amazing for this world. Yes, i know you have mental problems but that doesn’t make you any less of a person and it for sure do not mean you’re broken. It doesn’t even make you a bad person. if you haven’t been able to get the pills you need/ or if you don’t want to take them. it’ll all be ok cause those who really love you understand and will see past your brain malfunctioning sometimes. You deserve everything you want in life, and i hope you get it. You have my word and scouts honor that my spirit will try EVERYTHING in its power to come contact you. So don’t be scared if you feel a presence just confirm its me. and if i survive this attempt, bring my aunt the pastor to pray over me. Because i give you the power to tell the doctors to pull the cord, so after my aunts done, please make the right decision.

Payton: I fucking love you, and appreciate you so much. I wish could’ve spoiled you with everything because without you i would no have made it through tay or driving up to providence. You’ve been though so much already, i really don’t want you to be sad over this. Please live your best life to its full extent because the world needs you. You’re the ultimate mom friend, and if you ever have kids (or adopt some) I know you’ll be the biggest blessing in their life and the best soccer mom EVER.

Natalie & Isai: Im sorry to join you into one, but you both have been there for me through childish shit. But in the end both of you remained my real friends. natalie made my elementary school days fun and isai made middle school not horrible. I remember our little big squad. I remember angel, marco, that partially sociopathic girl, brittany, stephanie, lester and all the dumb shit we did. I remember feeling guilty for giving that poor teacher a heart attack. I’m getting off topic, that was always my problem, i could never focus on my tasks at hand. but i do love you both, and hope you both can handle everything life is going to through at you.

A.: I loved you. i loved you so completely that i lost myself in you. I didn’t do anything without you and i didn’t want to. but no matter how much i loved you, you didn’t see it. You didn’t recognize that I was putting my whole heart into what we had. I was trying so hard and its like it didn’t even matter,

I think that we fell in love because we were both hurt and needed someone . No matter how much you said you did, but you didn’t love me like i loved you. You were always more than enough for me, it even felt like i didn’t deserve you. but don’t blame yourself for my decision. It was a long time coming. Arthur, i hope you find someone that will be enough for you. The woman of your dreams, that you can actually see the love she gives you. She’s prolly african, she’ll cook all your favorite shit. Your family will love her and your kids will carry down the strong blood of your family. Thank you for trying to help me even though i’m clearly not your soulmate. But don’t blame yourself for this decision, take the best care of madam. Thats all i ask. Don’t give her away or sell her. And i wish dogs could read or understand because she’ll never get why she’ll never see me again. But thank you for the love you showed and just know that i won’t love anyone else like i loved you.

and everybody please:

Don’t miss me when I’m gone because I’ve simply just moved on. my decaying diseased flesh suit was only holding my spirit back. my soul has moved on to its next step and you should too.

Signed

Krystal Liana Fortuna Febles Guevara Santos (& almost Baygboe)