#fantastic work op

[godbirdart]

hiya tobias, ive been following you on tumblr for a bit now and just wanted to hop on by real quick to say that i had bought a character design from you on twitter almost 5 years ago now (a purple and pink dragon/wyrm/creature) that has since become one of my favorite characters and is very important to me. i had moved away from twitter pretty soon after buying them from you, so when i realized recently you were on tumblr i was ECSTATIC. its been SUPER cool seeing your recent works because you were a huge reason why i decided to get serious about my art in the first place! you were both directly and indirectly a huge influence on my development as an artist, both because ive always loved your work and ALSO getting that dragon design i bought from you was sort of a catalyst that made me want to improve my art, just so i could draw that guy better!! ive had more than one "breakthrough" while drawing that design specifically haha ANYWAYS, you dont have to answer this at all if you don't want to, i just wanted to let you know that you're super cool and so is your art and designs! also sometimes personally i like to see designs ive made that belong to others are still out in the wild, so i thought id let you know that this one's been very well loved and appreciated!! i even painted him recently when i was testing out a new set of oil paints c:

aAAAA YES I REMEMBER THIS BEAN!!! I really loved that design and had a lot of fun with it!!! ;w;

I'm so overjoyed to know that they've been helping you practice your art skills and flourish as an artist!!! it's always a delight knowin my designs went to good homes and I love seeing where they're at!! It's kinda why i sell designs exclusively on Toyhouse now, as i can keep up with where they go; but it's also ESPECIALLY exciting when my designs help other artists with their muse / work / etc!!!!!! i am deeply deeply honoured that i could be part of your art journey, even if it's just through a design i made!!

This art piece is GORGEOUS 10000/10 would absolutely frame this on my wall!!! thank you so so much for sharing it, please keep on creating and painting!! 😭💖💖

[aro-ortega]

it/its pronoun user sidestep

[generalb]

I drew this guy based on prompts from an OC drawing meme. I don't have a name for him but you can name him if you want. He's an alien prince who is obsessed with 70's American fashion

Oooooooooooo I fahsion him the name of Balthazar “Boogie-man” McQueen

[malicious-compliance-esq]

So I've been using the Queue feature of late to ensure that I can keep y'all in premium BJR content steadily over time, and also just Scheduling posts more to space them out when I want them to go at certain exact dates and times. Great, right? Really mastering the whole "Tumblr smarter not harder" thing after nearly yeeting it out the wardroom window like a certain bottle of claret for constantly borking my Notifications and hiding the exact stuff I most wanted to see. And you know, giving me that many more intrusive post-traumatic stress thoughts in the process about "failing" people who send me nice things.

Score! After a solid couple months in the blender, my brain emerges victorious and I get serious about simplifying my Tumblring. More guys, more sick delights sprinkled with interstitial whimsy, less sporadic effort throughout the day. Everyone wins.

I'm moving right along. Doing the hippo meme thing where I'm in my lane and reasonably unbothered even if my arid and snakelike skin is never sufficiently moisturized. I am enjoying functional Notifications. My Tags feed is showing me untold treasures from long ago when I scroll back through #black jack randall and this is correct. I am Queuing mass quantities of previously un-reblogged him. Birthdays, holidays, massacres, you name it. He is there, being awful. I am constantly having to Shuffle in other evil Redcoats and weird random shitposts and art. I am going severely HAM in the tags as usual.

Anyway, all excellent until Everyone's Favorite Hellsite decides to ignore my carefully curated timestamps for a string of posts earlier today and release them all right on top of each other instead. Apparently I blasted y'all with a whole bunch of guys at once like a damned fire hose. Some of you may not have needed that much evil Redcoat content within the span of five minutes, but you certainly got it!

Honestly, valid. Can't imagine anything more appropriate for my specific area of the Pipeline. Carry on Randalling.

[dankovskaya]

shittty anime again

Just got done rewatching the l*vi backstory ovas and jesus christ that whole ordeal is such a massive condemnation of the s*rvey corps (<= idk what people be searching) on multiple levels its actually insane. Like. The idea that you could come out of that being like wow what a tragic and harrowing ordeal l*vi is so cool and strong and brave etc and not like WHAT THE FUCK... GET HIM OUT OF HERE!!!! The way erw*n masterminded this whole plot to blackmail him into service and then indirectly got his family killed over LITERALLY NOTHING functionally ruining his whole life and then like. Rubbing in the fact that he has nowhere else to go like his plan was just to secure this talent by any means necessary (WHICH IT PRETTY MUCH WAS?) It is literally horrific 😭 and the fact that it ends with l*vi being like At The End Of The Day No One Ever Knows What Will Happen In A Situation... so I guess I'll follow this guy until I die?

[baked-hylian]

I meant to send this wayyy earlier about that blorbo ask and I totally forgot when I got home from work XD How about Spy x Family? I've seen you reblog stuff and I've heard good things about it so I'm curious!

Lmao I'm gonna assume you wanna hear about my Blorbo of Spy x Family It'd be the little gremlin Anya

She's just such a well written child character and it makes the series such a delight as a result. She's energetic she's hilarious, her expressions are probably the biggest delight of the series (like this episode the gif is from is fantastic.) She shows that while children can be extremely bright and quick, they're also still kids and prone to not understanding everything completely (like in episode one when she tries telling her new fake dad about baconries and how much she likes bacon from them while pointing to a bakery.)

She also hits the note of horrible tragic backstory that I like in characters lol

I don't want to spoil too much for you, because tbh I think you'd probably really enjoy the over all premise of the series, so I'll leave you with a lil summary

Secret agent Twilight has to infiltrate the inner circle of a reclusive politician of a neighbouring country where tensions are high and another war may possibly breakout. The only catch? This politician only goes to his kid's school functions so agent Twilight is tasked with creating a fake family and getting his fake child into the elite school this politician's kids attend. And he manages to do just that—only the fake child he finds can read minds and the fake wife he finds is actually an assassin for the country he's infiltrated.

Shenanigans ensue as each member tries to keep their secret a secret

[bixels]

I think 90% of my gripes with how modern anime looks comes down to flat color design/palettes.

Non-cohesive, washed-out color palettes can destroy lineart quality. I see this all the time when comparing an anime's lineart/layout to its colored/post-processed final product and it's heartbreaking. Compare this pre-color vs. final frame from Dungeon Meshi's OP.

So much sharpness and detail and weight gets washed out and flattened by 'meh' color design. I LOVE the flow and thickness and shadows in the fabrics on the left. The white against pastel really brings it out. Check out all the detail in their hair, the highlights in Rin's, the different hues to denote hair color, the blue tint in the clothes' shadows, and how all of that just gets... lost. It works, but it's not particularly good and does a disservice to the line-artist.

I'm using Dungeon Meshi as an example not because it's bad, I'm just especially disappointed because this is Studio Trigger we're talking about. The character animation is fantastic, but the color design is usually much more exciting. We're not seeing Trigger at their full potential, so I'm focusing on them.

Here's a very quick and messy color correct. Not meant to be taken seriously, just to provide comparison to see why colors can feel "washed out." Top is edit, bottom is original.

You can really see how desaturated and "white fluorescent lighting" the original color palettes are.

[Remember: the easiest way to make your colors more lively is to choose a warm or cool tint. From there, you can play around with bringing out complementary colors for a cohesive palette (I warmed Marcille's skintone and hair but made sure to bring out her deep blue clothes). Avoid using too many blend mode layers; hand-picking colors will really help you build your innate color sense and find a color style. Try using saturated colors in unexpected places! If you're coloring a night scene, try using deep blues or greens or magentas. You see these deep colors used all the time in older anime because they couldn't rely on a lightness scale to make colors darker, they had to use darker paints with specific hues. Don't overthink it, simpler is better!]

[tosailuponthesea]

I forgot how good the OST is for Faith 🎶

[justiceamberheard]

''Who Trolled Amber'' podcast

The highlights of each episode from the podcast. You can listen to it on Spotify, Youtube etc. EPISODE 1.

The outcome of the trial definitely damaged #METOO movement;

There were 80k of anti Amber Heard tweets, more than anti JD tweets even though AH was the one who accused him of abuse;

There's no way it was all organic, they either bought bots or those were real people pretending to be JD's supporters;

According to Jennifer Robinson, one of AH lawyers from the UK trial, Amber'd never wanted to relieve what had happened to her during the relationship;

Jennifer thought it'd be easier to win the US than in the UK;

The information about bots were thrown out way before the trial hence Ron Shnell couldn't talk about in the courtroom; EPISODE 2.

According to Ron Shnell there was a bot campaign against AH but he wasn't 100% sure because the judge struck out that research;

Kathryn Arnold shared that AH wasn't allowed to be a part of Aquaman 2 promotion tour and was banned from posting anything Aquaman related;

KA also said that AH couldn't audition, no one would hire her and that the agents were told not to touch her[AH]; EPISODE 3

The podcast creators asked experts(Kai-Cheng Yang) to check the date that was given by Ron Shnell;

According to the data: many accounts with no followers had tweets with more than 5k retweets/likes; hundreds of identical tweets were posted in one day; many accounts liked 400k tweets; 10k of identical comments were left under AH youtube videos; many accounts change their tune(from right wing Chile politics) and out of nowhere started to post pro JD tweets; half oh the data/accounts/tweets were generated by inauthentic accounts and then the real accounts started to engage with those tweets etc. it all started in November 2020 when JD lost the UK case and was fired from Fantastic Beasts; EPISODE 4

Cameron Herrin case was mentioned, more specifically the sudden interest and pro CH posts on TikTok asking to reduce his sentence and that he is innocent. Most of the accounts that were spreading those posts were from Middle East; EPISODE 5

Some Arabic twitter accounts suddenly started to tweet Pro JD tweets in English during and after the US trial;

The friendship betweet Johnny Depp and prince Mohammed was mentioned(him financing JD directorial movie Modi); EPISODE 6

Adam Waldman worked for Lavrov as a consultant for years(2010-2017);

During the deposition Adam Waldman refused to answer more than 70 questions;

Alexi Mostrous tried contacting ''the internet journalists'' aka TUG and ThatBrianFella but they didn't answer; he also pointed out that the audios that were posted by ThatBrianFella were clearly edited(we know);

Mostrous also tried to call Adam Waldman but he didn't pick up the phone and 25 minutes later posted a tweet:

“He[Adam Waldman] attacked witnesses, he attacked us (legal team)..unlike anything I have ever seen from a lawyer” said Jennifer Robinson. ''Amber Heard wrote an Op-ed for Washington Post which is a very respected publication and Johnny Depp's name isn't in it. It told to survivors if this can be done to a woman whose actually well-known and well-established person in the industry, it's gonna be even worse for you.'' All-in-All, it's clear as day that Waldman was behind the bot campaign against Amber. We've known that but it's good that a popular podcast researched about it and shed a light on it. Plus it's always great to see JD fans being nervous and panicky.

[writingoddess1125]

Modern AU Buggy X Reader

Buggy x GnReader

Just fluffy Headcanon!

• Buggy is the leader of a budget theater group that he spends nights writing or getting his people to practice for local shows- during the day however he has his own Boat Charter company and a second business of a delivery company.

• Has Rhinophyma and Roseaca which is why his nose is so large and red. Hates it and has been to so many dermatologist to get it fixed- but due to blood flow and other things will have it for life.

• Has a deep anger towards his half brother Shanks- He feels like their mentor Gol D Roger's who owned a large shipping company when he died it should have been Shanks who owned the shop to keep the legacy alive. Buggy would have been willing to follow Shanks if he did this since he knew he cohldnt- But Shanks ended up just leaving town and Buggy trying to keep it together before it finally went belly up.

• Secretly wanted to be an actor but never got the chops for it due to his nose-

• When you first meet Buggy its at one of the plays, it's a fun improve night. While not many people are there you go with some friends since you found the tickets online.

• You're one of the few people that actually play along with the act and seem to be enjoying themselves. Instead of half drunk college students that got the tickets off groupon-

• He has you come down to the stage and does a whole improve act with you, Being such a good sport you end up helping him get the crowd more engaged.

• Buggy invites you to do shows with him which you agree to. Hum giving you his number in exchange

• Showing up every Thursday to the improv nights and you start becoming friends with his theater group. Noticing how Buggy seemed much happier as you got along with everyone-

• After a few months he works up the courage to ask you out on a date, which you gladly accept.

• At first he tries to take you to the most expensive places but when you express he doesn't have to spend money to show he lives you- He gets more creative and thoughtful.

• Walks through the beach, coffee dates, going to musicals together.

• His favorite are movie nights, He will show off his limited cooking skills aka Hot Dogs and a assortment of junk food while the two of you watch mostly terrible F Tier movies together.

- "Which one did you find?" You call out from the kitchen getting some soda for yourself and Buggy.

"It's called Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter {OP note: This is a real movie- absolutely awful}" Buggy yelled out, laughing at just the name as you jump onto the big couch and hand him his drink as he eats some chips.

"That sounds absolutely awful" You say, looking at the cheap movie cover and reading the back with a snort. Buggy nods, patting himself on the back for finding such garbage.

"It truly is, I've outdone myself" He says proudly before the two of you start the terrible adventure. Having to pause the movie at times for laughing so damn hard-

"This is so bad!" You say as you laugh and roll on the floor- Buggy no better. However he wiped the tears from his eyes as he caught his breath.

"While we can laugh at least he made a movie-" He pointed out with a shrug, you sitting next to him and raising a eyebrow at the oddly kind words from Buggy.

"What do you mean?"

"I always wanted to make a movie- But I doubt anyone would watch them.. they barely watch my shows" He muttered, his insecurities getting to him as he subconsciously touched his nose. You reaching over and grabbing his hand quickly, kissing his lips to snap him from his terrible thoughts.

"What are you talking about?! I think your shows are great and I know you'd do a fantastic job making a movie!" You proclaimed loudly with a smile, your Boyfriend turning and staring hard at you.

He stares at you- like youd said the craziest thing ever. You feeling a creep of worry going up your back at how he was looking at you

"What is your ring size?" He finally ask and gestures to your ring finger making you blush deeply red.

[charmedreincarnation]

My sucess story

Trigger Warning: Abusive, homophobia, mentions of suicide

Hey there, Maya! I just had to take a moment and express my appreciation for all the fantastic posts you put out. I can now confirm, without a shadow of a doubt, that shifting is real, manifesting is real, and so is the void. Our desires and ambitions aren't in vain.

I've been part of the shifting community since 2020 when it exploded on TikTok. It might not matter much, but as a gay man, I rarely saw other guys in the community (though Reddit and Amino have a more diverse crowd). I've always felt more comfortable in women-centric spaces because they tend to be less judgmental.

I never saw success stories from guys, especially the kind I wanted to see - like waking up in a new world, not just manifesting money or a girlfriend (or boyfriend in my case >.<). I've always been spiritual and interested in witchcraft, voodoo, deities, and now manifesting and shifting. But it felt like nothing would let me shift.

Growing up with homophobic and physically abusive parents, struggling with poverty, depression, homelessness, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, and more, I began to feel like you could only manifest and shift if your life was okay. I didn't have the luxury of time or safety to practice methods, constantly dealing with noise, verbal abuse, or physical violence.

Then, I read this post

https://www.reddit.com/r/shiftingrealities/comments/14v4lw3/how_to_shift_the_next_time_you_go_to_sleep/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=ioscss&utm_content=2&utm_term=1

It led me to your Tumblr because OP used some of your old posts and talked about the concept of the void. All searched lead to tumblr. A couple of months ago (2.5 ish) after one of the worst days of my life, I went to bed sobbing, trying to block out the noise around me, praying and crying for anything - death, shifting, a new identity...

Everything around me started to fade - it was as if I was being engulfed by a white, serene blanket of nothingness. It was completely silent, and I couldn't see or feel anything. The only thing that seemed to persist was my awareness.

Now, I've read about the void before, but mostly in the context of it being a black, empty space. So, I'm not entirely sure if what I experienced was indeed the void or something altogether different. The concept still baffles me a bit, but I'm learning and growing through these experiences.

Regardless of where I was, my heart was set on reaching my dr.I kept praying and hoping, to wake up in my DR.

I woke up in my Twitch streamer DR! I found myself in a completely unfamiliar yet perfect place. My room was equipped with a high-end PC, top-notch gaming gear, and quaint decor items. Milo, my dog, was there too. I was sharing a mansion in LA with my boyfriend and four other streamers. The house was beyond my imagination, and streaming here was a dream come true. As night fell, my friends and I explored the vibrant LA nightlife, creating lasting memories.

After a week, i can’t lie I almost forgot I had shifted here. Then, I set an intention to shift back into this reality but where I had moved out, lived with my best friend and their supportive parents, mastered shifting and manifesting, had my desired looks, and money came easily to me. And it worked!

Since then, I've been living my best boujee gay life, and I shift all the time. I even created a waiting room where I'm immortal and use it whenever I need a break. I wish I could offer better advice, but like everyone says, there isn't a key to shifting. It's different for everyone. But you can and will shift. You can manifest your dream life. You can and deserve to be happy

Oh my god, I'm so happy for you, love 💕💕. I also completely related to what you felt. I know it can seem like your circumstances are holding you back, but believe me when I say this - that couldn't be further from the truth.

It's that same resilience, and your ability to persist despite the odds, that paved the way to your dream life. There’s nothing, I mean nothing that can stop you. Not wavering, crying, or doubt. Nothing. If you want it, it’s yours.

[astarion-approves]

Astarion resting in the evening with a reader with chronic pain/disability pain??

Literally your writing makes me so giddy ❤️✨✨ kudos to you OP for being fantastic as descriptions and dialogue!!!!

Astarion x GN! Tav with chronic pain

Safe for work, chronic pain, gender natural reader, 3rd person, 900+ words, SPOILERS ACT ONE, short and sweet, slightly OOC Astarion, no beta, (I DON'T have chronic pain so my apologies if this is way off the mark, I hope you enjoy it.)

Read below or on AO3

--------------------

Another fireball hits your shoulder, nearly knocking you to the ground from the force of it. The other party members glance in your direction, just making sure you haven’t fallen from the attack. The Hag’s wicked laugh rings in your ears as she continues her fight, gusts of wind and more flames flying towards you. 

Your body aches, the meat of your muscles shaking, each movement like a million blades being stabbed into your skin. It takes all of your effort to keep standing, each attack from Auntie Ethel bringing you closer to your knees. 

Shadowheart defends against her, casting a quick healing spell in your direction – just enough to keep you on your feet. 

For now. 

As Gale and Shadowheart chase after the Hag you will your body to move, to follow along with them and take her down. Your breath is unsteady, pain shooting up your limbs and to every joint in your body. 

“No,” you mumble, stumbling forward but managing to keep yourself standing. “Not now. Please, not now!” A flare up, the never ending pain that curses you each and every day. Something that even the tadpole can’t remove from you. Fire licks up your spin, the pain spreading and moving to control you. You fall to your knees, reaching out towards Gale and Shadowheart as they land blow after blow onto the powerful Hag. 

And you can do nothing but watch. 

You clench your jaw to keep yourself from screaming out in agony, to keep yourself from cursing the God’s that gave you this cruel fate. For what kind of God would ever deliver upon you the work of a Devil? You’ve made no sinful deals, no murder of the innocent, earned no curse from the evil that wanders in this world. 

No–

You are simply doomed with pain that you can never evade. Pain that will chase you and consume you for the rest of your days. 

“Tav,” Astarion is next to you, his hand on your back, sweeping up and down your spine with as much gentleness as he can muster. “Are you alright?” 

You shake your head, the battle carrying on just in front of you. Shadowheart cries out as she’s hit in the stomach, Gale jumping to help her off the ground just as another ball of fire is cast in their direction. 

“Astarion–” you gasp as the pain takes over, finally pulling you into the ground. 

Astarion shushes you, his hand leaving your back and instead carefully lifting you from the ground and into his arms. He rushes from the battlefield, placing you down behind a thick tree truck, a soft smile across his lips. “Now, you just stay right here. I will be right back after we’ve taken down this nasty little Hag. Rest.” 

And then he’s gone, the twang of his bow being shot over and over lulling you into a deep sleep. 

—-----------------------

You wake with a groan, blinking your eyes as you stare up into a deep red fabric that hangs above you. Slowly, you sit up, hissing at your body stings all over. You look around you, books thrown about and a large assortment of pillows all over the ground. 

Astarion’s tent. Then that means– 

“Ah, no, stay right where you are,” Astarion said as he waltzed into the tent, carrying a bundle of fabric in his arms. “Lie back down, darling; before I make you.” 

“The battle–”

“Is over, and we all survived. Goodie.” 

“Mayrina-”

“Alive and well. Now, hush,” Astarion said and gently pushed on your shoulder, forcing you to lie back down. He sat down beside you, opening the fabric he held before and revealing a large pile of ice. Astarion hummed as he laid a blanket over you and then began placing piece after piece of ice on top of you. 

“Ice?” you asked. 

“Hm, yes. What is the point of having a Wizard in our camp if he can’t conjure some ice for us?” 

“Why are you doing this?” 

Astarion raised a single brow at you, as if the answer were obvious. “You’re in pain, are you not?” 

“Well, yes–” 

“And while that Hag was a powerful creature, I know a fireball like that wouldn’t be enough to put you on your ass. Not normally, that is.”

“But–” 

“But, nothing.” Astarion sighed and poured the rest of the ice over your legs. “Honestly, Tav. Why didn’t you tell me you were in pain sooner? I could tell that morning, you know. The way you hardly spoke as we made our way into the swamp, how you grunted just going up the steps of that gross little house, and you sighed when we walked through the mud.” 

You looked away from him, ashamed. This pain, it was a weakness, one that you didn’t want the others to see… And now they all know. The fear of them leaving you behind was festering in the back of your mind. 

“I care for you,” Astarion began, grabbing your attention and forcing you to stare at him with wide eyes. “Probably… more than I should… since you’re keeping secrets from me.” He sighed and reached over, flicking you in the forehead. “So, the next time you’re in pain, just tell me. Please? I’ll carry you on my back if I have to.” 

You snorted. “I can’t ask you to do that.” 

“Nonsense,” he replied and waved you off. “Besides, it would just be another excuse to have you close.” 

“... So, you care about me?” 

Astarion laughed. “Of course I do, but don’t make me confess to you while you’re here lying in agony.” 

You pouted. “Astarion–” 

“Another time,” he whispered and leaned down, giving you a little kiss on your forehead. “I promise.” 

“Fine.” 

“Now that that’s settled,” Astarion held his hands up, wiggling his fingers. “Which foot should I begin my massage on?” 

[circeyoru]

I firmly believe that Lucifer thinks reader (unwanted soul) as either his kid or younger sibling by how he threatened Alastor if he hurts them. Also I find it cute if Lucifer makes reader an unlimited page book since he's worried if they got into a too heated battle they won't notice their pages are thinning. I mean if he can make fantastic rubber ducks with amazing abilities, I'm sure he can somehow make an unlimited notepad for reader to use. Or at least he gives reader a new welcome to the hotel gift, and because he hasn't seen them in a while

Also I wanted to add to the if alastor got into heaven version where he's dead and got redeemed. Reader would isolate themselves so much so that Lucifer visits once a week to check them. And when extermination day hits again (if it happens again), Lucifer would force reader to reside in the hotel for their well-being. That's where they meet Alastor in his all angel-looking feature glory. He probably checked on their old house first, when he didn't find them he definitely raged killed some demons on the way. But he still feels some sort of connection that lead him to the hotel where he finally found reader.

(Can you tell how obsessed I'm with this series)

Go to MASTERLIST for the works. This ask is for {Unwanted Souls}.

Ohh, I wonder if you're making Reader too op.

Part 1: Reader's/your gift from Lucifer

Instead of focusing on the book or notebook, let me direct your attention elsewhere. Ever thought about the quill? If you know how a feathered quill looks, you'll get what I mean. A quill essentially needs to be dipped in a jar of ink to write. Did I ever mention Reader/you carrying one or even using one? No. Never was 'ink' even mentioned in the story or the trivia (asks). Because that quill was a gift from Lucifer. A quill created by Lucifer and gifted to you. It's enchanted to be writable without ink and on any surface, with a camouflage mode to suit your preference, last feature is that only you can use it. Why Lucifer gave you a quill is because he knows you don't have to use pages as your surface to do crazy things (summoning weapons and casting spells). You can write on a wall, blow on it and it disappears to do what you wrote. That includes writing on the skin of a demon. If you read the demon design, you'll know what I mean. The writing on pages part was just a handicap you gave yourself and it was convenient for you to carry around a book or even a small pad to write with. Plus, you don't like attention, so you use a book with limits. You know you'll go overboard when your emotions rule over you, so you limit yourself.

Part 2: Yandere Redeemed Exterminator Leader!Alastor (what a long title for him)

For context, check this ask.

You do isolate yourself to the point it is concerning. Because you don't ask for help and you did when you asked Lucifer if he could provide you with new quarters that was far from where you were or the hotel. So many reminders of Alastor around you, you can't take it.

Seeing you in such despair, Lucifer shared with you that the souls in Heaven were granted the gift of forgetting when they entered the golden gates. You got the idea of forgetting the years spent with Alastor, from the point you saved him to the point you rage-killed for him. Lucifer advised you not to, but you were persistent in your plan. You returned back to the old place, scrolling around to make sure nothing was amiss and took in the final sorrow of nostalgia. Then you wrote down your command on your skin, you watched the words sink in and then everything went black.

Here, you were back to normal, save for Lucifer being the only one (again) who knew what happened to you. Not sure if exterminations continue (since no season 2 yet), but say that it does but further apart as a compromise for Charlie to save more souls. Lucifer visits you, but only to check and see if your memories came back, when they didn't for a long while, he didn't come as often.

When Alastor came down to Hell, he went to your apartment first thing. It was extermination day, so you were definitely there. You were sleeping through the day until your charms alerted you that there was someone in your apartment. You summoned a dagger made of angelic steel, creeping to the living room.

The moment you saw the pair of white wings, you ambushed and knocked Alastor down to the ground. You kneel on top of him to keep him down, the blade at his neck. "I'll give you a chance to leave and your head won't go rolling on my floor. You can fly back to your precious paradise and I'll let you."

Alastor's head turned to face you, a complete 180 without trouble, his smile softened as he praised, "My darling, you're beautiful."

"What?"

"Why would I want to leave you? I've done so much to come back to you. I'll never leave you, dear. If you want, I can give you my wings to make up for my absence."

Your face twisted to confusion and disgust. "What? Who are you?"

Alastor's eyes searched your face, his eyes scanned around, some things and items were missing. His signature red that would be mixed into your apartment. It was all gone. Just as he lost his memory, yours was somehow gone as well. "I'm.. Alastor. Don't you remember me, My Doe?"

[kunikuma]

bartender's treat

relationship | bouncer!wriothesley x gn!bartender!reader

synopsis | being a bouncer is rough. sometimes you gotta give them a lil sweet treat as a thank you for their hard work. content | fluff, mutual pining cw | can be suggestive, but nothing explicit. alcohol. occasional swears. a/n | saw a tiktok and was inspired by how happy security looked when OP brought them candy. check out "rainbow stripe belts/strips" if you need the imagery. written kinda fast.

masterlist

1 am and the Fortress —what an odd name for an upscale club— was naturally going hard on a saturday… night? morning? and damn did your back hurt.

the chunky little boots you had on sounded like a pleasant idea when you were getting ready for your shift, but after standing on your feet for a few hours and hustling to and from the kitchen to pick up fresh glasses, you were truly starting to regret your choice.

a few minutes ago, the other bartender clocked in after your manager begged him to help you. thank god because you were sure you were going to lose your mind if you heard four more shrill voices waving you over to order a damn drink. can’t people see you were being run to the ground already? 

in front of you, the sweaty bodies of patrons flooded the dance floor as they all moved with the music. beyond them stood a tall bouncer that the club had hired about a month prior. now, he had the chunkiest boots you had ever seen on a man.

but shit, he pulled them off well. wriothesley is his name and he is a great guy; ever since he had come along, no one bothered causing a ruckus at the door. if there was a problem, he took care of it swiftly and cleanly. the cherry on top was he was quite the looker, with his sharp jawline and pretty steel blue eyes. from behind the bar, you’d find yourself silently counting each tumble of your arms as you used the cocktail shaker, eyeing his annoyingly pretty side profile. absentmindedly, you wondered if your own arms would look as fantastic as his if you shook hundreds of cocktails every night.

the taut, black uniform shirt did him justice, that’s for damn sure. his arms were distracting, especially when he leaned on the doorframe with one hand to block the entrance off. or when he’d tenuously run his hand through his hair during a rush when the stress and frustration was getting to him.

occasionally, you’d catch a glint of the two piercings on the upper rim of his ear. hm, wonder if he’s pierced anywhere else…

one time, during a slow period, he caught you admiring for a little too long and he grinned before waving at you. when you sputtered and turned around, to make yourself busy, you heard a howling laugh and you avoided looking at him for a few days. 

“think you can watch the bar? gon’ thank the bouncer for limiting entrances earlier,” you shouted over the booming music, craning your head towards your bar partner. he fills a cup of water and slides it to a woman before rolling his eyes at you, one of his hands pressing into his hip.

“what, so you can flirt with your cutie with a booty, wriothesley?” he laughs, knowingly sliding you a container of sour rainbow-striped candy. typically, they were tossed into cocktails as a sweet topper, but you’d find yourself munching on them from time to time and you had learned a certain someone at the door shared in your sour and sweet indulgence. at your indignant scoff, he snorts and waves you off, nudging you out from behind the counter. “yes, i can handle the bar for a few minutes. go give your doggy his treat.”

your coworker grins at you, wiggling his fingers at you with a knowing look. when you huff and grab a strip from the packaging, you skewer it on a toothpick and head for the door.

“‘cuse me!” you shout as you thread your way through the crowds, one of your hands protecting the colorful treat from bumping into customers. you grimace when your foot slips a little, a sign that someone is being too clumsy with their drink out on the floor. drunken bodies bumped into your arm as you traveled over and the air seemed to cool down a degree or two as you shuffled closer to the opened door. your repeated apologies through the crowd eventually reach the bouncer's ears. he waves from the door as he hands someone their ID back. you hear him calmly explain that there wasn’t space for everyone in their group to enter and they all throw a little fuss, gesturing at the small amount of space they argued was ‘just enough for them’. 

“ah, bartender. what brings you over to my side of the room?” he hums at you before darting his eyes at the group of aggravated adults trying to convince him to let them in.

the man’s relaxed gaze drops in a heartbeat as he firmly orders them to settle down and be patient. when they huffily placate themselves at his adamant tone, you shiver at the commanding lilt of his voice. 

“ladies and gents, i’m going to need you all to just enjoy the cool, night breeze and simmer down,” he quips, attempting to ease the mood a notch further. after a beat, he gives you a small slice of his divided attention.

you gingerly place your hands behind your back, the toothpick and treat out of sight well below him. “‘now, now, wriothesley. you know my name.” you tut from a few steps away from him, shaking your head in mock disappointment. he quirks a brow at this.

“have you no shame? i’ve been illegally smuggling goodies your way and this is how you treat me?” you press a hand to your chest in mock, over dramatic hurt.

the sound of the music was way too loud and pummeled both of your ears, so you strained extra hard to hear the low timbre of his voice when he began to speak. he seemingly chuckles at your jest; you couldn’t hear his nearly silent laugh, but you could see his chest tremble from his amusement.

“hm, i suppose that is true, y/n.” he muses and drawls out your name, jerking his head at that group to let them know they could be let in since a larger group had just exited. wriothesley briskly steps back into place to intercept the next few people, his wrapped hand sticking out to wordlessly demand identification.

he exhales slowly, “doesn’t answer my question though. why are you here when the bar is being swamped? you know i’ve been stalling for you to catch up.”

you sigh and purse your lips. business mode, huh? you could change that.

“oh, boo hoo,” you stick your tongue out at the silver-tongued man. “it’s only a few minutes. if my presence bothers you that much, i guess you wouldn’t want your treat…?” you grin mischievously, revealing the little strip of candy with a flourish to the man in front of you. due to the darkness, he squints until a blue strobe light flashes on it, revealing the sugary stripe to the bouncer.

his reaction is immediate; suddenly, his eyes seem to lighten and his stoic stare shifts into a delighted grin. he quickly snatches your wrist to steady your hand, and you gasp but laugh at his unexpected touch. he dips his head low to snatch the strip straight from its skewer, smoothly tugging it from the wood’s clutches. his smile falters a flash at the sour taste bursting in his mouth, but he enjoys the sweet taste that follows.

your mouth slackens at his hold as his hand slowly slides from your wrist down to your hand.

suddenly, the music sounded muffled and you couldn’t tell if the rhythmic thumping was from the music or the organ beating in your chest. his hand seemed to linger on yours for moments too long to be considered friendly… and he held it just long enough for you to feel the roughness of his digits against yours.

did he always have that many rings on? you were sure they would be warm considering they were touching his flesh, but there was a noticeable chill where the metal pressed into your skin. they heated up fast against the flushed temperature of your body. 

you were grateful there was a slightly cool breeze slipping past the door.

momentarily, his hand slips and he snatches the toothpick, popping it between his lips. his plump lips wrapped around the thin stick and you blinked hard.

focus. must focus.

the corners of his eyes crinkled with mirth at your reaction.

“thanks for that, bartender. needed a little pick me up. that should keep me going til close.” 

that was the fun of him; he sure did know how to easily keep you on your toes and he was always quick with the teasing. at this moment, he was a little occupied and trying to retain some semblance of authority over the waiting guests, however. gotta keep his image.

wriothesley flashes you a swift but grateful smile before it drops yet again. he scrutinizes another plastic ID card in the faint lighting. the toothpick seemed to wiggle back and forth a small bit in his mouth as he checked the dates. his eyebrows furrowed as if he was lost in thought.

“you’re. uh, welc-” you begin to mutter as you recover from the shock, but he cuts you off. 

“before you scurry back... i’ve been meaning to chat with you about a little something. got time after work?” he speaks without batting an eye, passing the ID back to its owner as he steps aside to let the one gentleman in. after he reclaims his spot, he crosses his arms across his broad chest as he lolls his head over to you. the toothpick wedged between his teeth flicks back and forth as he grins. it was nestled safely between his oddly sharp canine and incisor, flicking around as his tongue fiddled with it.

he takes your tepid silence as an invitation to continue with his ask. “if not, just hand me your number. i’ve got questions to ask, like when you’re free this week and if you’d want to go on a picnic sometime.” 

…huh? 

a bright beam from a strobe light darts past his face and you could see the twinkle in his eye as he examines your face for a clue.

the bouncer flashes you a cheeky smile before relaxing, genuinely waiting for your response this time around. the heat of the club was always something to be mindful of when getting dressed for your shift. it would be silly to dress in thick clothes or clothes that would just induce a heat stroke in the blink of an eye.

with the amount of bodies in that room, it was bound to be sweaty and humid in there. on the worst nights, there was a steamy cloud rising to the ceiling, only visible thanks to the strobe lights illuminating the cloud. but no prior club heat compared to the sear crawling up the back of your neck due to his effortless words and his calm, wolfish gaze at your re-flustered state. 

your flushed face and slackened mouth were enough of a hint for him to note that you were fine with his forwardness, but that you also needed a second to recover.

wriothesley throws his head back to release a loud chortle, his hair bouncing around before settling back into its fluffy state. he smirks lightly, “i’ll use context clues and assume you’re fine with that.”

after a pause, you slowly nod as a grin grows on your face too. that was the thing with wriothesley!

he was a natural charmer, a man who is fantastic with his words and at the speed at which he could bark back with something engaging.

conversations with him felt like they flowed as effortlessly as water in a downward stream. 

he was great as a bouncer because he was strong and intimidating, but he didn’t need to use his fists to settle down a rowdy group. a few charismatic words thrown their way usually quelled the crowds.

not to say his looks and size didn’t help.

wriothesley plucks the toothpick from his lips and snaps it, flicking it into the trash bin near the door. “it’s hard to hear in here sometimes, yeah?” he then taps his finger on his chin as if he was mulling over the answer to a philosophical question. his eyes rove over to your form as you wait for his next words.

“think you can write your number on a napkin and bring it over later? no rush.”

you snicker quietly at his request, the fluster disappearing as you cool back into the usual banter. he hums at the sight of your ease, but before you can give a cheekily little response back, he interjects again.

the bouncer didn’t want to interrupt you as much as he currently was, but this is not the first time you gifted him candy, only to immediately dart back behind the bar. and he could never quite catch you after closing… so he needed to up the ante on his approach.

“oh, another favor. you’re a treat too, buuut... do you think you could give me a little more sugar later?”

when you gawk at him, he gestures at his lips and parts his mouth a few millimeters.

a kiss? did he want a kiss?

before you could bust out a laugh and swat at his shoulder to call him cringe, he caught your hand before it could make contact with his arm. the man’s shoulders seem to shake up and down with you as his lips curl upwards.

“stop, stop. get your head out of the gutter; not like that. i want more treats.”

though, a kiss didn’t sound too bad to the bouncer.

[syoddeye]

the christmas party

ceo!price x reader / smut free / ~2.8k words

A very belated Christmas drabble thing. Definitely not inspired by real life events. 👀 Featuring a fem!Reader x Price, background Ghost x Soap, and Gaz, the incredi-boss. Might fuck around make this a series, we'll see! Maybe I'll clean it up and throw it on AO3, too.

CW: alcohol, substance abuse (mentioned) inappropriate comments from coworkers

You came to expect drama at the company Christmas party. It was as traditional as the optional White Elephant gift exchange, the hired group of carolers, and the ugly sweater competition.

Last year, a 'mystery' baggie of powder and a credit card belonging to the former Head of Sales was found in a bathroom stall. Two years ago, it was the unexpectedly raunchy dancing between an engineer and a project manager you swore hated each other. Three years ago, a division head went home with someone who was definitely not her spouse.

You'd seen a lot in your tenure. The good, the bad, the ugly, the hilariously mortifying.

Coming up on your fifth year with The 141 Group, you were a rarity. Most folks job-hopped. More power to them, no shame in gaining good experience after a year or two to leave for greener pastures. The fact you stuck around labeled you a 'veteran', a cheeky if not sensational label, though there were times you certainly felt like you'd seen war. Acquisitions. Rebrands. Reorgs. Yeesh.

But life at 141 suits you. You are an executive assistant, a good one. It helps that your direct supervisor and the VP of Finance, Kyle Garrick, a fellow 'vet', was an incredible boss. He lets you work from when you need to, doesn't micromanage, and treats you like a person, unlike other execs. He had faith in your ability to manage his calendar, prep materials, book travel - in short, you organized his work life. In return, whenever some new hire got too fresh with you, all it took was one teensy mention in a morning meeting, and by lunch, the offending party had only apologies for you. Most importantly, though, the job nets enough money to make rent and let you pursue your hobbies.

With years of Christmas parties under your belt, you were looking forward to tonight's low-grade yet cataclysmic event. Pre-gaming and primping at a fellow assistant's house, Jordan, you clasp the silver holly leaf pendant around your neck where it lies just above your modest cleavage. The dress code was simply 'Christmas Color', another tradition. Formal attire was expected, if not an unsaid requirement, which meant slipping into a gorgeous dark green dress you spied weeks ago in a boutique window. You thank yourself for earning that last pay bump to afford it because you look fantastic, in your humble opinion.

Lacing her leather Oxfords, Jordan gives a low whistle when you turn away from the mirror. "Like a big, sexy pine tree."

You smirk. "Thanks. Remind me why we both couldn't wear red tonight?"

"Because of the two of us, red is my color. Do I not look like some kind of holiday vampire?" She asks, standing with a sweeping gesture down at her deep, red velvet suit.  

"More bellboy, but-"

"Rude!"

The two of you lovingly bicker all the way out to the awaiting car. The 141 Group, ever mindful of its image, always reimbursed rideshares for its company parties. Given the amount of liquor that flowed at these events, it wasn't only generous but smart. Like the higher-ups needed a scandal. The car ferries you across town to the ritzy event space at a local art museum. Leaving your coats at the complimentary bag check, you enter the well-underway party.

The events team needs a raise, like yesterday. The sprawling space was completely done up. Several open bars, a champagne wall, a photo op with a to-scale Santa's Sleigh, and dining tables with place settings that probably rival a monarch. Silvery white birch trees enveloped in lights line the walls, with clusters of small fir trees fully decorated dotting the space. The dancefloor was already busy with a DJ fully dressed as Santa.

Four going on five years, and it was still quite the sight.

You gently elbow Jordan. "So. Cheesy themed cocktails first or canapes?" 

"Obviously drinks. I just saw one with an ornament in it!"

~~

Three hours in, it was a dead heat for Most Dramatic Event. Two separate calamities slowly built throughout the night.

At the nexus of the first, Chad from marketing was almost blacked out. After winning the ugly sweater with a true abomination of a sweater (working lights, a mini speaker, and an ungodly amount of sequins), he celebrated. A little hard. He bopped from open bar to open bar as the bartenders cut him off one by one. He was trying to convince a coworker to grab him another Mistletoe Martini, and it was progressively getting louder.

The second was from the rumor mill more than anything. Apparently, a developer named Scott brought the wrong gift for the exchange. As the story went, his wife used the same paper for an identically sized gift, one of a titillating nature, and now he was visibly paranoid that he nabbed the wrong one on the way out the door. The man stalked the pile of gifts as folks drew numbers.

Jordan bet on the first, and you bet on the second. From the corner, you watch, giggling behind a cup of Prancer's Punch.

The sound of your name drew your attention. Kyle, in a charcoal gray suit with a sleek snowflake tie bar and green tie, approaches with a Tiny Tim Collins in hand. Though you waved hello earlier in the night, he spent most of the evening in the company of who you deemed his 'buddies' - Johnny MacTavish, VP of Technology and Jordan's boss, and Simon Riley, the Chief Security Officer. You learned in your first month to leave the trio to it. 

"Having fun, are we?" Kyle grins and turns to observe the twin events. 

"I love this party. Every year, delivers just like Santa," Jordan gleefully said.

"Someone should stop them," You add, knowing nobody would. At least not Kyle.

And as if on cue, the man chuckles. "Not my circus, not my clowns."

The three of you chat, swapping bits of office gossip collected through the night. Not the most appropriate, but not the worst social crime, surely. You're the right amount of tipsy: warm and relaxed but solid.

The wager came up naturally.

"What do you want if you win, my pine tree?"

"Hmm. It's gotta be something outrageous but not a fireable offense. Hmm. Maybe I'll have you sing on a video call, pretend you thought you were on mute or something."

"...That's boring."   

"Do I want to know?" Kyle asks, sipping his drink. 

"We have a bet on who's gonna be this year's drama - Chad or Scott." You explain.

"Maybe I ought to get back…" Your boss said with a laugh. "Better not witness to whatever you two plan." 

"Might be for the best. Night, Kyle," You accept the brief hug from the man, then poke a finger against his chest. "Listen, if I get one DM about work during the holiday, I'm switching your coffee to decaf."

Kyle claps a hand over his heart as if he's been shot. "Monstrous. Fine, have it your way, no work during Christmas…Now, behave yourself, both of you." 

Watching him retreat back to MacTavish and Riley (who look quite cozy - perhaps another piece of gossip?), Jordan nudges you. "If I was into guys, that's who I'd be into."

"You and like fifty other people here," As Kyle's assistant, you're more than his Girl Friday; you're also a professional gatekeeper. You could wallpaper your apartment with the amount of cringy notes you've stopped from reaching his desk. 

"Not your type, then?" 

You whip your head back to Jordan, utterly horrified. "No way. Not that Kyle isn't an absolute dreamboat; he's just not my dreamboat. Plus, at this point, it would be so, so weird."

Jordan laughs. "Y'know, even though we've been work besties for a year, I don't think we've ever discussed this. What is your type? As dudes are not my specialty, I have no clue."

Your type, huh? As if you don't know. Your type's been the same for as long as you can remember. Big and brawny, the kind of guy who could haul you around. Dark hair. Well-groomed, well-dressed, well-endow–You could still make it onto the naughty list. 

Using better and cleaner terms, you relay this information to Jordan. 

"Huh. A man's man. Whodathunk–oh! Oh shit, look who it is!" The other woman pats your arm and gestures with a nod.

Joining Kyle and his buddies, is none other than John Price - CEO of The 141 Group. Fashionably late (very fashionably late), yet another tradition. Adorned in a Santa red suit jacket and a matching red tie, he somehow makes the boring dress code dashing. Flanking him is a pair of bodyguards. He's just in time for the wager to come to a head. 

God, he looks good. 

As Kyle's assistant, you see John fairly regularly. Not that he sees you. No one above a certain pay grade sees assistants. You kind of just blend right on in. Not even Mr. Riley, whom you've been introduced to a dozen times by Kyle himself, recalls your name. When you tag along to meetings to take notes for the boss man, you assume you're on the same level as a lamp or plant. That doesn't mean you haven't ogled John Price before. Kind of hard to not to, what with his commanding presence. You're kind of ogling him right now.

"Wow, you really do have a type," Jordan hums with a shit-eating grin.

"Shut up," You hiss into your drink and look away, just in time to see Chad from marketing lift a gift box-shaped ice sculpture and smash it onto the ground next to one of the open bars with a frustrated yell. The poor bartender and caterers jump back, and the music scratches to a halt. A thick silence fell over the party, impressive for a crowd of over a hundred, and your eyes flick to Mr. Price.

He glares daggers in Chad's direction, then nods at the taller of his bodyguards. Without hesitation, the man crosses the event space toward a petrified, drunk-crying Chad. As the guard hauls him away, your coworker, or former coworker, you assume, bursts into ugly tears and then disappears from sight. But your eyes are still on John, whose gaze turns to the DJ. The music starts again, as does the chatter. 

"Fuck yes," Jordan giddily whispers. 

"Well, shit."

"You know what this means, don't you?"

"...Unfortunately, yes. Yes, I do," You sigh and down the rest of your drink. "Before you swing the axe, let me grab another punch."

"Hurry back, I've got my thinking cap on," Jordan impishly smirks. 

With a groan, you make your way to the nearest open bar. One far from Chad's little tantrum. Most folks are on the dance floor at this hour, leaving this particular bar quiet. Waiting in line behind other tipsy coworkers, a clearing throat behind you grabs your attention. 

"D'you have a recommendation?" A low, gravelly voice from all your best dreams asks. 

You turn, and the sweet Hallmark-worthy image that blossomed in your mind in the last two seconds promptly morphs into a nightmare. Not a running-for-your-life nightmare, but a you're-the-only-naked-person-in-class nightmare. Laughable, considering the topic of conversation not three minutes ago.

John Price stands tall behind you, arms crossed, testing the fabric of his red suit jacket. He smells like tobacco and something spicy, and his eyes are a shade of blue you hadn't noticed before. You never got this close. They narrow slightly, and you realize you haven't answered him.

"Prancer's Punch." The name sounds cornier aloud.

"Hmm. Brandy or rum?" He sounds unimpressed. Was he unimpressed?

You're quicker to answer this time. Except, you babble. "It's, uh, made with dark rum. It's delicious. I've had a few. The cranberry juice isn't too tart, compliments the sparkling wine and–It's good."

Santa, run me over with your reindeer.

Kyle would be humiliated to have heard all of that. You are humiliated for having said all of that.

To your surprise though, the corner of John's mouth hooks in a smirk, then he chuckles. "How many qualifies as 'a few'?" 

You, apparently committed to acting moronically, answer honestly. "Five." 

It gets you an actual laugh this time. His hand raises up to scritch at his cheek, flashing the band of a watch you're certain is worth more than your life, then juts his chin forward slightly. "You're up, miss."

"Oh, no, Mr. Price, I insist, please-" You start to sidestep to let him up in line, but his hand lowers immediately and stretches out to stop you. He doesn't touch you, but the hair of your arm stands up at the proximity. 

John smiles again, and his head tips toward you. "I insist. Join me, Miss…?"

"Mr. Price?" A voice suddenly interrupts. The taller bodyguard that removed Chad steps up and steals away Mr. Price's attention. "The problem's been dealt with. Regarding…"

You don't hear the rest of the conversation because you hurriedly ask for a punch and bolt back to Jordan. 

And Jordan saw everything. Your heart is racing, and you miss half of her teasing. 

"You made him laugh. Twice. I don't think I've ever seen him smile, let alone laugh." 

"Because I basically admitted to being drunk!"

"Calm down, you're not, you're solid," She reassures. "Besides. You saw that death glare at Chad. If he was upset, I reckon you'd be on the receiving end of one of those."

You groan and take a swig of punch. You hope you've had enough of the good stuff to burn away the memory of your embarrassing rambling. You look back to Jordan to say something and find your friend once again grinning devilishly at you.

"I just thought of what I want for my victory."

Any time, Santa. Put me out of my misery.

"What?"

"So…You know #AskPrice?" 

You know where this is going, and your eyeballs nearly bulge out of their sockets. "Jordan. Please. No. Do not make me post something stupid there." 

#AskPrice was the name of the open channel at work. Anyone across the company could post questions for Mr. Price to answer. More often than not, it was a venue for bootlickers and kiss-asses to rain praises and share bad proposals. Rarely was there a legitimate question or a good idea.

"Darling, of course not. I have something far funnier in mind," She started, and you swore you saw the flames of hell itself in her eyes. "You're going to direct message Mr. Price and ask what he wants for Christmas." 

Jaw, meet floor. "Absolutely not!"

Jordan laughs and hooks an arm around your neck, pulling you in. "Come on. It's harmless. Believe me, I considered making you send a selfie or asking if you're on the naughty or nice list."

"He could fire me!"

"For what? It's just a question! He always says we're welcome to DM him."

To be fair, Mr. Price did say that at the end of every company-wide call or in email announcements. He always harps on 'transparency' and 'open channels of communication', hence #AskPrice. To your knowledge, however, no one ever takes him up on that, at least at your level.

"Jordan…Mercy. Please."

"My sweet pine tree, you lost fair and square," She releases you and pats your shoulder. "If it makes you feel better, I bet he gets a thousand messages a day. The notification will get lost in the noise."

It doesn't take much more prodding and encouragement from Jordan. Your phone ends up in your hand, and you tap into the chat app. Your hand shakes a little when you pull up John's username and open the message dialogue. 

johnprice - invisible Hi, Mr. Price. I was wondering what you want for Christmas?

Short and to the point. Jordan calls it 'boring', but you're already putting your neck on the line for a stupid wager. You're not risking anymore by dressing it up. Bet fulfilled, you press send, quickly turn notifications off, and shove your phone back into your little purse. Jordan rewards you with a squeeze to the shoulder.

"That was terrifying." You whine.

"That was a rush. Come on. Let's dance." 

~~

The next morning, when you're all but molded to your couch and housing takeaway, there's a little ping from your phone. It's the chime of the chat app.

"Kyle, for the love of everything, it's Sunday–"

You nearly drop your phone.

johnprice - invisible Hi, Mr. Price. I was wondering what you want for Christmas? > World peace. > I'd settle for a drink, though.

[littlejuicebox]

Shoutout Sunday

Here I am again with another recommendation list! This one is a bit different from the last, in that these recs are all fics written in third person rather than second person POV. Listed in no particular order. I wanted to include some smaller writers and newer pieces that may have not gained much traction yet!

I know I write a lot of second person POV, and I also enjoy reading this POV. BUT, I do want to encourage people to consider reading both first and third person work as well. 

Some of these pieces are THE most compelling things I’ve ever read. Especially when someone’s OC is involved. Creators put A LOT of love into their OC work. If you like a creator’s second person stuff, I strongly encourage you to read their things written in other POVS… there’s a high chance it’s even better than their second person work, tbh.

All recommendations are below the cut. Happy Reading!

Thrice Before Dawn by @cursedhaglette- This is a smut piece set in Act 1. I promise you all that I thought about this fic for days after I read it. Physically made me blush. Top tier banter and the ending is chef’s kiss. It’s sort of a One Shot but I believe it’s also an ongoing collection/series. 

Starlit Skirts by @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate - This One Shot is the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff. This piece made me tear up. Every piece of Emi’s is divine. Astarion is working on creating Tav’s wedding dress and has been for months. The issue is, it’s requiring constant altering.

Blood in the Mortar by @bardic-inspo (tumblr) / bardic_inspo (AO3) - An AA One Shot that is beautifully written and exceptionally compelling, based on the concept of AA’s love interest being a vampire bride. Her OC Naomi is fantastic! OP hasn’t written smut in over a year and yet she does well, as if it’s her day job. 

Memories of Us by @tallymonster - I maintain this is the only AU longfic I currently read and I adore it. There are a few chapters I am dying to catch up on. This version of Astarion is so interesting, I really like how she works with the concept of a vampire outliving all of his prior friends/contacts. 

Slow Dancing in a Burning Room by @tragedybunny - Bunny is an OG, I’m certain most of you are familiar with her One Shots. She has a huge Masterlist, and surely you can throw a dart and any title it hits will be a win. But this AA series is a new longfic work of hers and I cannot wait to see where she takes it. 

Loose the Arrow by pentuppen (AO3 only, unsure if the tumblr blog is the same person?) - This is the first BG3/Ascended Astarion longfic ever read and I was hooked. It inspired me to start writing myself! This storyline is compelling and the perfect blend of angst/comfort/smut.  I’m not going to give away the plot, but the author’s summary itself is intriguing. Here’s a bit: “One night every year. She is always there waiting and he will always come.”