#writing challenge entries

[quinnnfabrgay-writes]

what it means to burn

This is my (incredibly and abhorrently late) entry for the Summer Lovin Challenge! My prompt was heat wave along with this AMAZING mood board! Thank you so, so much for putting this on @pedgito (and for being so incredibly patient)

pairing: dieter bravo x actress!reader

summary: There are many different ways to burn. People warn against getting sunburned amidst the suns cruel rays. Others are told it's in the afterlife where they'll feel hells wrath and burning flames. But burning desire that fills your body, floods your system, clouds your mind... what on earth are you supposed to do with that?

wc: 4.8k

tags/warnings: not much, some good ol' pining-esque angst (and some tooth-rotting fluff for funsies), Dieter is an idiot - but that's why we love him, i know nothing of film sets so there's that too

reader description: reader is described as having breasts and there is gendered language, otherwise nothing else about reader is described, no use of y/n

a/n: yeah, so this is almost exactly 6 months late, i am SO so sorry. i feel like i've been so stuck creatively this year. BUT here it is. at first I had no idea where I wanted to go with this, but then my wife and I binged all of Bridgerton in two weeks and I have that to blame for how some of this turned out. i also tried to really lean into the heatwave aspect of it 🫣 MAJOR shoutout to @bitchesuntitled for reading this over when i was losing my mind, i am so incredibly grateful

divider credit: @saradika-graphics

Your toes dig into the sand beneath your feet, each grain tickling your nerves - a much needed distraction you welcome. A bead of sweat trickles down your forehead, your body's desperate attempt at keeping you cool as you approach your third hour in this dreadful, sweltering heat. Your fingers twitch, fighting the automatic urge to wipe it away - the last thing you need is to give the director, Jared, another reason to call “cut” for the umpteenth time. 

What was supposed to be a “quick and easy” take of the scene in which Dieter’s character has a heat-induced fever dream of your character scantily clad in an oasis, has now become a whole cluster fuck. 

Dieter was almost an hour late to set - his reasons being missed alarms, traffic, every excuse under the sun really, but that was the least of your frustrations. Once everyone was finally in place and ready to start shooting, wardrobe mishaps galore. 

They originally wanted to have you in a gauzy, deep cut dress, golden ropes tied around your waist to complement your figure. But between the combination of the heat and your sweat, the dress tape meant to keep the cloth adhered to your breasts kept slipping off your skin multiple times, resulting in multiple nip slips that had the wardrobe department ushering you back into the trailers for an emergency costume change.

But perhaps the most annoying circumstance of all has to be the sheer amount of times Jared has had the two of you film and re-film the part in the scene in which Dieter’s character finally confesses his feelings for your character- or the mirage of your character to be exact. 

Picture it: Dieter’s character is lost in the desert, he’s been walking for days and nights looking for reprieve when he stumbles upon a beautiful oasis that’s too good to be true. Because it is. It’s simply a mirage used as a catalyst for Dieter’s character to come to terms with his romantic feelings. He’s supposed to come upon the oasis to find you lounging by the pool of a waterfall, dipping your toes in the water before approaching him, lavishing him with attention. Light sultry touches from you, flirty quips back and forth before devolving into a confession of love from him, all culminating into an almost kiss. Dieter is meant to lean in, your lips almost touching before his character wakes from his fever dream with a new determination to get back home and confess his feelings to the real life version of your character.

Which wouldn’t be an issue if it weren’t for the director finding a new problem almost every take. 

The first few takes were issues with your wardrobe. The next few, he wanted to try different starting positions: you by the pool of the waterfall, then you lounging on a moss covered rock, finally he settled on you wading out of the pool of the waterfall, the water making your skin sparkle and glisten under the cruel sun. 

A change you gladly welcomed the first one or two times you had filmed trying the new starting point, the water helping cool you down as the heat of the sun kept beating down on everyone. But soon enough even the water wasn’t enough of a reprieve, because then Jared had an issue with yours and Dieters chemistry. 

Or lack thereof. 

He couldn’t really blame the two of you though. At this point you were tired, sweltering, hungry, and so so cranky. Dieter wasn’t faring any better, you could tell he was two takes away from throwing a temper tantrum like a petulant child, and to be honest you weren’t too far behind him. The last thing on your mind was trying to convince the cameras of any romantic inclinations. 

Although, if you were being honest with yourself, it really shouldn’t be that hard, it’s not like you would be acting at all. This isn’t the first movie or project where you’ve led opposite Dieter Bravo, and even though you’ve tried your damnedest to do the complete opposite, you have found yourself falling more and more for the handsome goofball with each passing day. 

He was one of the first of the bigger names to show you kindness in your earlier roles; even took you under his wing as it were to warn you about the creeps to stay away from, to tell you the little tips and tricks of the trade, he even offered to run lines with you for auditions from time to time. 

His party-going ways and eccentricities were enough to keep your feelings at bay for a while, but as the two of you grew closer, and you got to see more of the real Dieter, it became more and more difficult to deny that you had indeed fallen for the one and only Dieter Bravo. And you had fallen hard. 

And if that doesn’t just piss you off.

“Oh for the love of Christ- cut cut cut!”

You and Dieter both huff and groan, you drop your head into your hands as Dieter slumps his shoulders in frustration. You feel like you could scream, your anger and frustration building to the point of tears gathering in your eyes. 

“What is the matter with you two?!” Jared's voice becomes louder as his steps grow closer to the two of you. 

You're just about to let him have it (deservedly so), but luckily Dieter pipes up before you can say something that might deem you “difficult to work with.”

“I don't know Jared, it could be a number of things. This goddamn heat being at the top of the shit list.”

You bite the corner of your lip to keep yourself from laughing, reigning your expression into a slight amused smirk instead as you watch Dieter and Jared go back and forth, mentally checking yourself out of the conversation until you hear Jared let out a dramatic sigh, running his hands through his hair before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in thought. 

“Okay, I get it. I really do. I know I've been impatient myself, this heat really is getting the best of all of us I suspect.” He drops his hand, opens his eyes, and glances back and forth between you and Dieter as he pleads his case.

“Just one more take, please? Just the speech Dieter gives, that's all we need. You two are almost there, it just doesn't feel… right yet. There's an underlying sense of animosity that I can't pinpoint, but that's what is holding you two up. Just take a couple of deep breaths and let go. Give us everything you got, okay? Really, you two are ridiculously talented, I specifically requested you two for a reason. If there's any hesitation, just let it go. And let everything else be fuel for the fire. Use your frustrations and channel them into your character's desire for each other, okay?”

Tears prick the corners of your eyes. You know his speech was pointed towards you, there's no way it wasn't, but he was good about making it seem like it was a pep talk for the both of you.

You nod your head, blinking quickly to clear the moisture in your eyes before any tear drops could fall. 

“Y-yeah, thanks Jared.” You reach your hand out to squeeze one of his forearms, a quiet show of appreciation.

Dieter rubs the back of his neck as he nods once in agreement, his lips pursed in thought. 

Jared gives you two an unreadable look before speaking again. “From the top then, yeah? Just one more time.” He claps his hands, swiftly turning around and back to his chair as he orders everyone else back into their places.

Dieter lets out a long, drawn out sigh before turning towards you, an eyebrow quirked and a half smile sweet enough to wash away your irritation.

He briefly looks back over to Jared before shouting “can we have a moment?”

Jared simply slumps in his chair, waving his hand exasperated in a manner signaling “go on.”

Your brows furrow; what could he possibly need to talk about that can't wait until you've at least been able to scarf down the snacks in the shared trailer, enjoying its glorious AC?

He swiftly turns towards you, stepping forward and closing the small gap between you two until you are practically toe to toe with one another.

You draw in a quick, sharp breath as he reaches both of his hands out grabbing your own. Such a simple touch, yet paired with the sheer closeness he's created, it's enough to set your skin on fire where the two of you are connected. Or maybe it's just the heat finally pulling you into an exhausted haze and warming your skin to the touch. That had to be it, there's no way this means anything.

“Mírame, por favor.”

Dieter’s voice raspy from the dry heat, yet it's still smooth as silk to your ears. You acquiesce, slowly raising your eyes to meet his gaze.

The look on his face could easily bring anyone to their knees. The molten pools of his dark brown eyes draw you in, begging you to dip your toe in. A false sense of security washes over you as you believe that little voice in the back of your head saying “it's safe, the water's fine,” as if the tide of his gaze won't pull you under at the first chance you'd let it.

You could dive in head first into the deep inky waves, letting them pull you further and further down - not once feeling panicked or afraid even as the darkness spreads around the corners of your vision, finally feeling at peace. Finally giving up your resistance, letting him finally drown and consume you…

You're shaken from this image, your mind coming back into reality, dropping back into your body when Dieter squeezes your hands in his. The deep baritone of his voice floating through your ears like a choir of angels when he utters “estrella.”

“Y-yes?”

“I- um, I just–” Dieter cuts himself off with a huff, casting his eyes down and you're pretty sure you hear him mutter fuck under his breath. He slowly shakes his head, a self deprecating tone weaved into his voice. “I'm terrible at this.”

“Dieter, what're you ta–”

His head swings back up quickly. “I'm sorry.”

You jerk your head back slightly, completely caught off guard. He looks so determined, his eyes flickering back and forth between your own. He squeezes your hands again, takes a deep breath, and continues. 

“I'm- I'm sorry. For today, for the million takes, for being late. All of it.”

He pauses long enough, you go to tell him it's fine, but he shakes his head, beating you to it. “No, I'm– fuck. Look, I know why Jared feels like there's some underlying animosity.”

You shuffle slightly, dropping your gaze to his feet, suddenly uncomfortable with the turn this conversation has taken.

“But what I'm trying to say is, I get it. You have every right to want to rip my head off right now. I know me being late really screwed up the schedule, and- and, I don't know. I just wanted you to know that I get it, and I really, truly am sorry. It was incredibly unprofessional.”

You brave looking back up at him. A pang runs through your heart at how genuine he looks. You have to bite the corner of your lip to distract yourself from the tears that want to well up, hoping you can keep them at bay.

“Thank you, Dieter. I really appreciate it.” A small, soft smile stretches your lips, meaning every word.

A small smile spreads across Dieter’s lips, mirroring your own. 

“I- um, I just couldn't sleep.”

“...huh?”

“Why I was late. I really did miss all of my alarms this morning. I was up most of the night, too nervous to sleep.”

Your brows and lips wrench up in confusion. “Nervous?”

“Yeah, I know it sounds ridiculous. I mean this isn't the first romantic drama we've shot together or anything. I just really want to nail this scene. I want to be the scene partner you deserve. I really believe this could be the project that gets you nominated.”

“Oh, Dieter, th-thats's… that's getting a little ahead–”

“No, I'm serious. You deserve this. How can you become an EGOT winner without the Oscar? Huh?” He's full on grinning at you, those brown eyes sparkling with mischief. 

You huff a chuckle out, shaking your head. “Dee, please. That was just a silly childhood dream.”

“No, it’s not, and you know it.”

He dips his head slightly, trying to get you to meet his eyes. Once you do, his face softens. A small, adoring smile graces his features. 

“You deserve it more than anyone I know.” He drops one of your hands to softly cup your chin, his thumb brushing across your skin. “Mi estrella brillante.”

Your stomach drops as you try to remind yourself it’s nothing more than a friendly gesture. But Dieter apparently wasn't finished tormenting your lovesick soul. Before you have time to comprehend what's happening, he leans forward and drops his lips to your forehead, your chin still in his hand.

It had to have been only a brief few seconds, but to you that moment was frozen in time.

His devastatingly soft and pouty lips have your skin tingling, goosebumps forming along your arms, and all he has done is kiss you on the forehead, possibly one of the most innocent kisses two people could share, and yet your knees threaten to buckle as if he was worshiping your body underneath his tongue. 

God, you needed to get out of this heat.

Dieter pulls back and must notice something's amiss. His face falls slightly, his eyes searching your own as he says your name.

“Hey, is everything alright?”

Your eyes flutter as you shake your head to try and rid yourself of this spell he's put you under.

“H-huh? Oh y-yeah. I think the heat is finally getting to me.”

“Alright you two,” Jared's voice further coaxing you out of your stupor, “let's wrap this up so we can all go home, yeah?”

If logic was accessible in this moment, you could easily remind yourself that this isn't him talking to you like this. It's all for the movie, nothing more.

Unfortunately, that's not the case, all logic flew out the window the moment his lips touched your skin. You have no doubt in your mind that you're looking at Dieter like he hung the moon– which works for the scene, but were you really acting? 

It's hard to think of anything else beyond the feeling of his soft lips on your forehead, the reverent way he looked at you while cradling your chin in the palm of his hand, softly muttering, “mi estrella brillante.”

Mi estrella brillante.

You slowly flick your eyes back and forth between his, wondering if anyone has ever told him he has the most painfully beautiful eyes. So expressive, so captivating. 

Many a time you have gotten lost in studying his micro expressions - one of the many reasons you fell for him honestly. The amount of emotion this man can portray in one glance, a simple lift of his brow, a slight tilt of his head or subtle frown - it was mesmerizing. He's mesmerizing. 

His hand finds your cheek, the wide breadth of his palm practically encompassing the side of your face in its entirety. 

In an instant it all becomes too much - the pounding in your ears, the shallow breaths you're struggling to take in, the haze forming around the edges of your vision. Your gaze drops to his lips. His irresistibly tempting lips, still moving, still reciting his lines, but the words remain a mystery to your overheated state of being.

The way the velvet plush of them unwittingly beckons you closer and closer. And suddenly it all becomes so clear to you.

This fiery all consuming heat, this overwhelming longing that has been ignited and seized your entire being, has nothing to do with the hours spent in the burning sun.

This aching, this burning, it's all coming from within you.

A burning desire all for one Dieter Bravo.

In hindsight, you were probably also dehydrated, but in this moment the only thing you want to drink in, the only thing you crave, is the taste of Dieter's tongue sliding against your own, to feel his lips mold perfectly around yours. The very thought of him pulling your body against his, close enough where you wouldn't know for certain where your breath began and his ended.

It's this thought alone that has you acting like you've finally snapped and lost your damn mind, maybe you have.

Dieter’s still in the middle of his monologue when you suddenly clutch the front of his billowy shirt in your fists, a soft breathy whine slipping past your lips, your gaze locked onto your plump pillowy prize. You see his lips frown slightly, pursed as he starts forming a question, but you can't wait one second more. You shake your head, silently asking him to not speak, to not disturb whatever stars or planets that had aligned to make this moment possible. 

You gently pull on his shirt, bringing his body closer to yours as you angle your chin up, brushing your lips against his. Your eyelids flutter closed before you quietly whisper your simple request, “Stop talking and kiss me.”

Every worry, each little annoyance you encountered throughout the day all fades away to nothing the moment Dieter tenderly presses his lips to yours. His palm moves from your face, gently sweeping down the skin of your arm, goosebumps forming under his touch; an unexpected shiver shocking your system amidst the unrelenting heat.

He continues his path until his hand finds the small of your back, the pads of his fingertips stroking the skin bared from the exposed back of your costume. He gently pulls your body flush against his as he wraps his other hand around the nape of your neck, further enveloping you in his embrace. 

The warmth of his body against your own should be the very last thing you crave in this unforgiving and blistering heat, your dress starting to soak through with your sweat, yet somehow his touch is exactly what you need. His touch like a balm to your nerves; his caress the only source of reprieve you desire.

You let go of the white knuckle grip you have on his shirt, immediately tracing the edges and curves of his body as your palms chart a path towards his hair. Your fingers twisting into his curls greedily, not even caring to pay any mind to the slick of the sweat drenching his tresses.

Your heart clenches when you swipe your tongue past your lips to find his tongue peeking out as well, the both of you in sync as you deepen the kiss. You can't control the small whimper you make at the sound of Dieter softly groaning as your tongue slides against his for the first time.

His iron grip around your body tightens even further; you swear your body could melt against his from the sheer heat shared between the two of you.

The heat so all consuming it's flooded your senses, spread through your veins, and now sets your skin alight. Dieter is flint and wood, and you are the spark that sets the whole thing ablaze. 

Every pass of his tongue, every tug of his hair, each shared breath between you two only serves to feed and fan the flames; the heat of them licking at your skin, growing ever higher and higher until you and Dieter are one giant shimmering inferno.

But even roaring fires turn to ash eventually. 

“And cut!”

Jared’s voice cuts through your trance, jolting you out of Dieter’s embrace. You immediately take a step back, giving yourself space to fully assess and absorb what you’ve just done. 

Dieter’s hands hang aimlessly by his side now that you’re no longer wrapped around him, his chest heaving as he catches his breath, his lips swollen and slick from your kiss, his eyes wide and wild, glowing like the last few golden embers that refuse to be smothered into smoke.

You find the will to tear your eyes away from him and brave a glance at the crew around you. Some looks of shock come into view, some of annoyance, but nothing is as unnerving as the stoic look upon Jared’s face.

Your nerves quickly take hold, a chill running down your spine and spreading through your limbs as you slowly back further away from Dieter.

“I-I’m so sorry. I don’t- I…”

You quickly turn, gathering the skirt of your dress in your hands and move swiftly to the trailers, head hung in embarrassment.

What have you done? 

A rush of frigid air greets you as you fling open the nearest trailer door, too wrapped up in your distress to pay any mind to where it is you’re actually going.

It’s only when the door slams shut behind you that you finally take notice of your surroundings - a table littered with script pages, all strewn about with red and blue ink scrawled in the margins; a green robe haphazardly draped across the back of a chair; various bottles of water scattered across all in varying degrees of fullness, not one of them fully empty.

Dieter’s trailer. Of fucking course.

Even in a moment where you need some space to distance yourself from this school girl crush, you still can’t escape him. Whether you like it or not, you’re inherently drawn to him - even just a space that he’s inhabited has enough magnetic pull to draw you in. 

And it’s so fucking frustrating.

You’re just about to let out a much needed scream when you hear the door whip open behind you, the sound of it clicking shut only seconds later after the unwelcome guest makes their way inside.

Well, technically you’re the unwelcome guest.

You bury your face in your hands, not ready to face what’s coming next. You don’t even second guess who it was that followed you in, it was inevitable that he would come running after you - always looking after you, never once giving you a moment to breathe. The sun itself no longer the source of heat that threatens to smother you.  Even the chilling AC isn’t enough to temper the rising fury of your admittedly misplaced anger. If only he would give you just one minute to wrap your head around the situation you have placed yourself in.

The heat of Dieter’s body radiates off him in waves as you hear him shuffle closer to you, the exposed skin of your back already starting to dampen with newly formed beads of sweat. The feel of his hand coming to rest on your hip burns as if he is made of fire himself, a quiet “Estrella,” mumbled close to your ear. You drop your hands from your face in defeat, closing your eyes to muster whatever strength you have left, and push his hand off of your body. 

“Dieter, please, don’t.”

He lets his hand fall away from you, but you still feel his presence as he stays put behind you.

“I don’t understand, did I- did I do something wrong?” 

You slowly shake your head, still not ready to turn around, still not ready to confront this head on.

“It's just… it's jus-”

Fuck, it really is now or never, isn’t it?

You can tell Dieter is starting to get just as frustrated as you have been all day, a childish exasperated huff tickles your skin before the cracks in his composure start to show. In any other moment, you might have the patience and wherewithal to sympathize and agree that his day has been just as shitty as yours, but at your wits end? Well that’s no place for compassion or sensitivity, now is it.

“It's just what? Spit it out alre-”

You whip around facing him, feeling like the embodiment of a steaming kettle finally blowing its top, ready to let its contents boil and bubble over. 

“You frustrate the living daylights out of me, Dieter!”

He takes a step back, shock written all over his face, obviously not expecting this outburst of anger from you. His eyes narrow as he crosses his arms in a show of defense.

“Yeah, and? I piss a lot of people off. Where is this even coming from, I thought we were coo-”

“Oh please, we are well past you merely pissing me off. You have completely turned my world on its axis! You have single handedly complicated and confused everything I thought I knew about myself! You're so infuriating - with your stupid reservations over anything bluetooth-”

“Not stupid, the EMF waves mess with your brain-”

“-your complete and utter inability to care for or respect anyone's time but your own. Your obsession with alien probing?! What is that? If aliens are real, you really think out of everyone on this planet, that they would choose you to beam up into their ship just to what? Study you?”

“It's not an obsession! It's a reasonable and  completely rational fear and respect for aliens. And no, not study me… I'm afraid they'll impregnate me, okay?”

You stare at him blankly, silence filling the air. Dieter’s face is so… genuine. His eyebrows downturned in distress, those deep brown eyes of his widened slightly in legitimate fear. If it weren’t for the circumstances or the subject matter of your current conversation, you would almost feel bad for him, almost wanting to close the distance and caress his face, easing his worries.

But his worries were… ridiculous. 

It starts out small; a quirk in your brow, the corners of your mouth twitching as you let out an amused huff in disbelief. It tickles your insides, the sheer absurdness the turn this conversation has taken.

It quickly takes over, growing into giggles you try to contain behind your hands, but then Dieter’s face cracks - his own expression twisting in mirth as the two of you erupt into fits of laughter.

A few seconds pass as you both fight to reign it in until silence takes hold again. But this time, it's not as suffocating, it's… nice.

You softly smile at him as he returns the gesture, cautiously taking a step forward into your space, Dieter’s hands finding their home cupping your face, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. You can see the internal battle waging behind his eyes, no doubt trying to figure out what to say in an attempt to not set you off again.

You give him some much deserved grace, bringing your own hands up to wrap around his wrists, feeling his pulse beating rapidly below your fingertips. You take a shallow breath before attempting to apologize, but yet again Dieter beats you to the punch.

“I won't pretend to know what's running through that brilliant mind of yours, but if I've done anything to upset you…” his gaze quickly drops to your lips before flicking back up to meet your eyes, “... I'm sorry.”

“No, no you really don't meed to apologize Dieter, I… fuck.”

You snap your eyes shut, afraid to see the inevitable look of pity. You can't look him in the eyes when you say it. Brilliant my ass, more like a fucking coward.

“I'm just so embarrassed, that was so unprofessional and I know everybody is pissed that I messed up yet another take and I just… I couldn't deny it any longer. And I'm so sorry I took you by surprise like that, it was completely uncalled for and mmfph-”

Dieters lips come crashing down on your own, silencing your babbling. Your hold on his wrists tighten as you immediately match his fervor, not caring that you're already struggling to take a breath, his is the only oxygen you need at this moment. Before you can get too lost in the kiss, he breaks it off, resting his forehead against yours while you both try to regain your breath.

He nuzzles your nose before smirking, “there, now we're even.”

A surprised and delighted giggle escapes your lips, holding onto his wrists even tighter, filing away every second of this that you can before the moment is over. But Dieter was always full of surprises.

“And if you'll let me, I'd very much like to do that again. Maybe later, after dinner?”

You can’t stop the goofy grin spreading across your face as you respond.

“I think we could work something out.”

Thank you to anyone who reads this, comments and reblogs are never expected, but always appreciated. I'm just happy there's someone out there who might enjoy the things I have to say ❤️

tagging some Dieter moots (no pressure to read or reblog obvi): @sp00kymulderr @perotovar @covetyou @chronically-ghosted @yopossum @whatsnewalycat @kedsandtubesocks @whocaresstillthelouvre @pedrostories @beefrobeefcal @seventeenpins @ozarkthedog @pedrit0-pascalit0

[flowersforthemachines]

Rook Joins the Book Club - Mod

As one of the many people sad that Rook wasn't included in the Book Club, I set out to fix it by editing the codex entries in the game :)

There are 6 versions of the mod available, one for each faction. Here is a showcase of the Warden version:

The rest of the entries can be found under the cut.

Crow Rook:

Lord of Fortune Rook:

Shadow Dragon Rook:

Veil Jumper Rook:

Mourn Watcher Rook (typo in the word "possession" is fixed in the latest version of the mod):

[elodee3]

HERMIT A DAY MAY - DAY 18

JoeHillsTSD x Where the Sidewalk Ends

For Joe Hills I chose Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein!

I loved this book along with A Light in the Attic when I was a kid. It was one of my earliest exposures to poetry and since Joe is a poet himself, I thought this would suit them well!

In addition to doing a drawing for Joe, I also tried my hand at an original Joe Hills poem in the style of Silverstein. Writing poetry is pretty far outside of my usual wheelhouse, so I hope it turned out suitably Silverstein-esque! I'm proud of it regardless. :)

Here is the text of the poem:

-

JOE HILLS

A puppet is Juppet

A felt little guy

That felt is swell

And svelte

And blue as the sky.

But try as I might

I can't help but think

All that felt

Must swelt

In a Nashville July!

-

To learn more about Where the Sidewalk Ends and see my style references, continue below the cut!

(Happy Hermitcraft stream weekend! A fine weekend to donate to Gamer's Outreach)

Where the Sidewalk Ends is a 1970s book of poetry by Shel Silverstein. Each poem is accompanied by a whimsical ink drawing also done by Silverstein.

The poetry is fantastical and imaginative, often written from a child-like perspective. Though the poetry sometimes touches on darker themes, it does so from a thoughtful place and the collection is enjoyable for people of all ages.

Even if you aren't someone who likes poetry, I highly recommend picking up Where the Sidewalk Ends or A Light in the Attic. They are both wonderful.

Style references:

Every poem in the book has a cute drawing to accompany it. Here is the poem from the above image:

THE ACROBATS

I'll swing

By my ankles,

She'll cling

To your knees

As you hang

By your nose

From a high-up

Trapeze.

But just one thing, please,

As we float through the breeze-

Don't sneeze.

The illustrations for Where the Sidewalk Ends are whimsical with sparse, stippled shading and cartoonish characters

The lineart of these drawings is thick and a little messy but still easily readable even when the subject of the drawings is unusual (which is pretty much all of them)

[randomfandomss]

WHERE IS THE COMPULSORY BAKE OFF CONCLAVE FIC?????

With these queens in the tent?!?! It would totally fuckkkk!!!!

[thefixations-ofmine]

liquid courage and a support system

Bucktommy | 2.8k | Rated mature (no smut) Entry for the @bucktommywinterfest, round 5 Dec. 29 - Jan. 4 prompt: Midnight kiss a/n: this is an idea I got from this exchange here. Again, I suck at titles so please bear with me. There will be a follow-up smut chapter to this, that I will post for a Bingo challenge. And then next week's prompt for the Winter fest will be the following conversation in the morning. Oh and apparently Sal's wife's name is Gina (saw someone say that in the tags and I liked it).

Main Masterlist | Winter fest | AO3

“Buck, hey! What’s-”

“Eddie!” Buck shouts his name through the phone as soon as he hears his voice. He takes a giggly breath before proceeding; “I’m at a bar downtown with Lucy. Remember Lucy? When you-you quit working with us? Anyway, she told me to go out and have some fun!”

“That’s nice, Buck. So, are you having fun?” There’s a silence after Eddie’s question while Lucy tries to say something from a few feet away, and Buck remembers he’s on a phone call he initiated;

“Hey Eddie, Eddie,” he says, suddenly serious. “I need your help with something.”

“I’m sure that’s why you called.”

Buck bites the insides of his cheeks, second-guessing for a moment until a member of the 133 chimes in and convinces him to go through with the plan. They’d all been sitting around some nachos for an hour, the members of the 127 whining about Tommy’s attitude since the break-up and the 133 chipping in that there had to be an explanation to all of it. In the end, they took Buck’s side of the story, even Lucy, and he knew he hadn’t been worried for no reason.

“I need to go see Tommy before midnight.”

It’s a quick conversation after that. Eddie makes sure Buck knows what he’s doing because if Tommy hadn’t been vocal about the situation to anyone, he might not react so well to being pressured, mostly not tonight of all nights. Despite his friendly advice, Buck insists and convinces Eddie to pick him up and drive him there.

Which he does, thirty minutes and another round of Tequila later.

When they drive onto Tommy’s street, Buck turns the radio off to unscramble the speech in his brain that he intends on giving to maybe, very hopefully, get Tommy to have a conversation with him. At the very least, they both need more context and if Tommy had an actual reason to stay away, Buck would comply. But Lucy was honest when she said she saw a change in Tommy’s demeanor and it wasn’t for the best.

Buck takes deep breaths that contrast the chill December air. His window is starting to fog and Eddie notices.

“There’s still time to turn around, man.” Eddie offers, and Buck shakes his head. He’s gotta do this. For the both of them.

“I’m okay, yeah. I’m okay.” Buck rubs his hands onto his jeans - the tight blue ones he remembers were Tommy’s favourites. The same jeans he wore on the night- Buck shakes his head.

Yeah, he really needs to talk to Tommy.

The house looks a little different, and in his current state, Buck can’t really tell why. The grass is a little longer than usual, but that’s not it. Tommy was never a fancy landscaping guy so the hedge and small bushes are the same. New roof? Nope. Then Buck’s eyes fall onto the bright red, 2019 Charger parked in the driveway and his brows bend with curiosity. Did Tommy have that bad of a crisis that he made an impulsive (and expensive) decision?

Ha! Buck silently laughs to himself now. Ironic.

Eddie catches the change in energy and tries to comfort his friend; “I remember he told me he was thinking of getting a more recent sports car because working on classics was becoming expensive.”

“But he loved his truck. I loved his truck…” Buck whispers, reminiscing over their short trips and the laughs they shared eating take-out and watching planes take off at Burbank. It would make sense though, that Tommy would get rid of such a big piece of them.

Once the truck is parked by the eye-sore, Buck nods and thanks Eddie for driving him over, saying that he’d catch an Uber back to his place if Eddie got called while on his stand-by shift. He jumps out of the truck and wills himself to walk to the door, takes a quick look at his phone.

It’s eleven forty-five.

There are a few seconds too many after his first knock and Buck goes for another, impatient. The door swings open instantly this time. The comforting smell of the house drafts out, bringing up a wave of emotions. His eyes open and with that Buck loses the smile he had put on.

“Can I help you?” There’s a tall, broad man on the other side of the threshold, but it’s not Tommy. The features are similar though; blue eyes, dark hair, muscles all over and a nose that would crunch up on his cheek during a kiss like Tommy’s did. Buck opens his mouth to speak but;

“Who is it, Sal?” Tommy shouts from inside. Sal. What a stupid name.

Sal turns around to tell; “Some random mook”. Then his piercing gaze falls back onto Buck; “You’re bumming out our party. The fuck you want?”

“Um, well-” There are so many scenarios running through Buck’s mind that he forgets everything he needed to say. Tommy’s already got a date? Sure, it’s been over a month and he had his own opportunities, but Buck was convinced Tommy would be alone moping, or at least working an extra shift tonight (Tommy is not a big holiday guy, Buck had found out when he suggested they took the same days off to celebrate). But he’s already found another man to spend his spare time with and the man is gorgeous and not so different from his own physique that Buck can pass it off as an experiment.

He thinks maybe that Sal guy had been there all along. That Buck was in fact the experiment and he’d fallen into the trap. Let the man feed on his naiveness and use his inexperience as some weird superiority kink.

Well, fuck, he thinks. If he’s going down might as well put all the cards on the table and play the game.

“I-I need to talk to Tommy. We have a conversation to have.” Buck straightens up, using the little ounce of alcohol that didn’t coward out of his body to stand his ground. “He should be with me tonight.”

The man laughs as he realizes who he’s talking to, and it boils Buck’s blood.

“You? You’re the reason I had to pick Tommy off the ground?” Sal slaps his knee and looks over inside the house again but doesn’t speak. While he does so, Buck scans him over, looking for a weak point. He’s not above fighting this with his fists - remember the alcohol? - but the man could slam dunk him one-handed.

“Oh, that’s rich,” Sal adds with a deep hum. He looks Buck up and down. Bites his bottom lip. “I guess I can see it. Tall boy with the curls and puppy eyes. I would have been all up in there as well. Worth the heartache.”

“The fuck you mean?” Buck’s hands are forming into fists in his hoodie’s pockets and he’s turning the same colour as the hideous car parked behind him. Which he now understands is this prick’s belonging.

“Boy, listen. Tommy had a good run with you, but I’m here with him now. He doesn’t need to take your hand and walk you everywhere like a lost child anymore.” Sal walks back and starts closing the door but Buck’s hand is quick to stop it.

“I’m sure he didn’t mind that. You should have seen his face the first time I called him daddy. Fucked me for three days straight, something you probably can’t keep up with,” Buck spits, the taste of the statement burning like bile on his tongue. He can see surprise spread across Sal’s face, before he retorts.

“I’m the top, baby. Tommy lets me do what I want with him. And his whimpers are delicious.” Buck knows. Buck’s been on the giving end of those whimpers, and if Tommy was honest with him, he was the first one to bring him there, and-

“Maybe I can show you how to make him cry your name too.” Buck’s inside the house now, backing Sal into the dresser as they go about fighting this like bulls. He goes on to say more arrogant shit that he hopes will fall into the right ears and grant him points. Even if deep down he knows this is childish and stupid and wasting him some precious time.

“That didn’t make him want to move in with you, did it?” Sal sends the final straw as he rubs his chin evilly.

Buck’s eyes land on Sal’s hand and his stomach drops. He looks at the ring on his finger and his mouth falls open, speechless. There’s a stinging feeling of defeat cutting through his entire being, like he came all the way here for nothing. Like the last months were for nothing.

Before Buck can either fall to his knees in sobs or turn around without a word, a feminine frame comes into view and the woman circles an arm around Sal, a big diamond decorating the hand that’s running up his chest. She looks up at him, the stern expression across her face making him check his posture, and suddenly Buck’s even more confused than he was.

“Tommy, come talk to the poor boy,” she says and pulls Sal back to the living room by the hand.

Buck looks over to his right and he feels like passing out.

*

“He should be with me tonight.”

Tommy freezes in place, takes a step back to hide behind the dividing column between the living room and kitchen as if this wasn’t his goddamn house. He takes a deep breath, looks over at Gina on the couch and makes a face: that’s him, he mouths. She giggles at his frightened composure. He’s too drunk for this. 

Hearing Ev-, Buck’s voice triggers emotions he thought he had drowned deep enough with holiday cheer; shame. Regret. Love. And now all he wants is to run out, pull him into his arms tight enough until they fuse together and he can never lose him again. But the conversation has taken a turn and Tommy… Well, Tommy enjoys what he’s hearing. His body goes slack when he hears Buck fight for him. Everything he’s saying is true and he wants to prove it again. Fuck, he misses him.

He’d have a conversation with Sal later about the things he’s saying to rile him up. Slap the back of his head for good measure because Buck could have run off and Tommy’s not sure he’d have the courage to go after him and pick up that mess on top of the one he created, but for now, he chuckles and lets them ‘fight’ over him for the sake of the show. When Sal pulls out his last line though, Tommy’s expression drops and Gina darts past him before he can will himself to take a step. She defuses the bomb.

“Tommy, come talk to the poor boy.” He watches as they walk back into the living area and he meets Buck’s eyes.

He has very little time to make a decision and he probably looks like a deer in headlights. He wants to be cool and composed. Make Buck believe he’s got his life together and that leaving wasn’t the dumbest thing he did. But his baby is standing there in his house and he hates how uneasy he seems. Tommy closes his eyes and breathes in, looks at the stove on his left.

It’s eleven fifty-seven.

“Come in,” he says, barely loud enough to hear himself say it. He has to wave Buck in, and his heart skips a beat when he agrees and closes the door. Tommy turns to the fridge and gathers two beer bottles, even though their systems could do without. It’s a habit, getting something for Buck, because ‘love languages’ or whatever. And old habits die hard.

“Let’s talk on the patio,” Tommy adds, pointing with the neck of the bottle. Buck follows willingly, a faint smile spreading over his face. Tommy sees him look at Sal and Gina sitting hip to hip on the couch and he realizes he has some explaining to do, but as they walk behind the couch, Sal reaches back and pulls Buck by the hoodie.

“Sorry kid but you know I had to test you. You seem alright,” he says. “Don’t fuck up your chance though. I know where you live.” Buck looks at Tommy with worry and Tommy waves his head ‘no’ in reassurance. The room lights up in chuckles and Buck joins them, eyes watery nonetheless. Then Tommy’s gaze lands on the TV and he sees the countdown go by on the broadcast downtown. Seven, six, five, four-

Panic takes over him and when he turns to look at Buck, he’s met with the exact same questioning look. He should have had more time before this. At least say hi properly and get to the apologies first. But Tommy raises his brows and Buck nods with a shaky exhale. Then their lips collide in a clumsy but oh so perfect kiss.

The angle is awkward and this should be a quick peck, but they stay like this for several more seconds, both their hands just hovering around them not quite ready to cross a line.

Happy New Year! The TV chants, and they pull away. The scene mirrors that of their first kiss; Tommy pulls back with his eyes closed, scared that if he opens them then the nightmare will come back and Buck will be gone. But when he pushes himself to do so, Buck is standing there, a tear falling onto his cheek and he’s holding his breath, mouth agape and his eyes search deep into his soul.

Tommy’s ears are ringing but it’s not the fireworks outside. It’s the beating of his heart that’s threatening to fall out of his chest. And he listens to it, grabs Buck’s neck and pulls him back in. The second round is hungry, determined, and the beers have been set on the couch console in favor for their hands to roam freely across charted territory. Tommy finds his favourite dip at the base of Buck’s back, his other hand still wrapped around his Adam's apple. His body shivers when he feels two strong hands run up his front until they settle onto his chest for a light squeeze.

It’s raw and meaningful and unbothered, until someone clears their throat.

*

“I’ll set the dishes in the sink. The leftovers are stored away, but I’m leaving with this amazing fruit cake,” Gina says with Sal in tow.

“W-wait, I didn’t mean to stop you guys, I-”

“Kid, if Lucy hadn’t convinced you to come here before midnight, I would have personally driven mister lonesome here to your place.” Sal loves the moment everything clicks in Buck’s mind and he shoots a look at Tommy who’s turning red. “We were just keeping him company until then.” He winks.

Buck stands there speechless, a little dumbfounded but the smile on his face could light up the city. Tommy also had a plan. The same plan, as it turns out, mastered by the same minds. His dick twitches in the god awful tight jeans knowing Tommy wanted to fight for him. And maybe from the taste of Tommy lingering on his lips.

“Well, we’ll be on our way. Be safe!” Gina adds before gathering their stuff and heading for the door. Sal stops to give Tommy a hug and whispers something to him, to which Tommy nods in agreement.

“And you!” Buck goes cross-eyed looking at his finger. “Don’t be too comfortable being ‘whatever’. Put labels. Be happy that you can do that now. Let people know Tommy’s your boyfriend, whether you’re gay or queer or,” he stops and makes a hand gesture for Buck to finish.

“Bisexual,” he answers.

“There. It’s easy to say, huh? Let people know. Who ever gives a fuck shouldn’t be in your life anyway.” With those wise words, Sal walks past him and out the door. Buck almost starts liking the guy before the roaring of the Charger vibrates through the house and he remembers he could probably never deal with that ego. Tommy seems to notice the disgust on his face and laughs.

“Talk?” Tommy points towards the couch this time, but Buck takes a step closer and brings his hands to his hips.

“You took tomorrow off?” Tommy nods. “Then tomorrow.”

Buck pushes Tommy back against the counter and attacks his mouth again. That would satisfy him, really. Kissing the love of his life in his house. This is what Buck should have emphasized during their last conversation, he thinks. But there’s little time for thinking when Tommy starts undoing his pants and moans obscenely into his open mouth.

“I’ll spend the night on my knees if you ask me to, baby. Don’t worry,” Buck whispers, smug. God he missed this. He runs his hand down the front of Tommy’s pants and tears burn his eyes at the contact with his engorged dick.

“Evan,” Tommy begs faintly.

-

Next part (smut) | Next part (morning conversation)

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for future works! Tagging:

@weewookinard

[not-krys]

52. Deep in Thought [Houki, Abby, Clara, Miri]

Welcome back, it's 2025 so it's back to the 100 Themes Challenge!

For this entry, I decided to give myself a little bit of a challenge. Over on bluesky, there was a creative challenge posted where you would challenge your technical skills for your craft, like, say you normally write in third person POV, to try and see if you could write in a first person POV, to use present tense if you've only used past tense, to try digital art if you've only done traditional previously, stuff like that.

Though I won't be taking part in the challenge officially (for now, it runs through February and March), I did want to test the waters of working on some of my technical skills, namely trying out first person POV since I rarely write in that POV.

For three of these entries, I wrote in First Person while one was a return to form with Third Person. It was fun to try out a POV style I hadn't written in for a long time and a nice little exercise to get my writing muscles working.

For the prompt itself, I did: -Houki's first encounter with Mitsunari's reading trance -Abby is dragged into singing for Mozart -Nokto is helping Clara become more acclimated to the royal life by helping her get used to ordering people around, using himself as her test dummy. -Diavolo asking Miri wants as her reward to winning the Devildom Studies award.

Raw, mostly unedited writing. A lot of fluff in these entries, but there are some spoilers. Clara's entry was inspired by the Obey Me event while Miri's is inspired by the last handful of the final lessons of Obey Me. Abby's thoughts are also a little self-deprecating, she just doesn't have a lot of confidence in herself and her thoughts are reflective of that in her entry.

------

Houki

The sound of a turning page was a familiar and comforting sound to Houki, a taste of home that she was away from currently. At least books were still the same here, she thought.

Houki had been tasked by Hideyoshi to bring something for Mitsunari to eat and drink. Since it was the middle of the day and he was in the middle of work, she brought along some flavored rice crackers that Masamune had made earlier along with some cool tea to combat the summer heat.

Much as she was loathed to disturb his work, Hideyoshi had been insistent. After a few knocks, however, she wondered if she had missed him. There was no other sounds other than fluttering paper. Perhaps some books had fallen open in his room and the breeze from open window was causing that sound?

She knocked once, twice, and a third time. No answer. Hideyoshi had insisted he would be here or he'd have said something about going out, she was sure.

"Lord Mitsunari?" she called. "Are you here?"

Still no answer.

The door was slightly ajar thanks to her knocking. Maybe she could leave her snacks and he would come back later? She could also right the fallen books so that they don't get tripped on when Mitsunari returns.

"Sorry for intruding." She nudged her foot into the door, sliding it open easily.

Once she was inside, she yelped in surprise, nearly spilling her tray on the floor.

"Lord Mitsunari!"

There he was, sitting on the floor with a book in his lap. His hand flipped casually to the next page, paying her no mind whatsoever despite her cry being anything but quiet.

Once her heart and breath had calmed, she looked at Mitsunari a second time, setting her tray on the floor.

"…Lord Mitsunari?" she said.

Even this close to him, he didn't respond. He seemed unaware of everything aside from his book.

Houki poked his shoulder with her finger. No response. She grasped his shoulder and shook it gently, as if she was trying to wake him. Nothing. She shook him a little harder, and a little harder, and a little harder until his head was bobbling. Nothing. She even pinched her own cheek to make sure she wasn't dreaming, which still hurt, so this wasn't a dream. She even pinched his and he didn't say or do anything.

How strange… and a little horrifying.

How long had he been like this? Was he sick? Should she go get someone? Lord Hideyoshi for sure! Maybe there was a doctor nearby? Lord Ieyasu? Well, he was often cantankerous around Mitsunari but surely he would help if there was something wrong with his fellow lord?

As if to answer her prayers, loud knocking against the door frame made her jump a second time.

"Yo, lass!" It was Lord Masamune, followed shortly by Lord Hideyoshi's exasperated sigh. "Heard you be here today!"

"Lord Masamune! Lord Hideyoshi!"

"Hey, what's wrong?" Hideyoshi asked, pushing past Masamune and kneeling beside the two of them.

"It's… it's Lord Mitsunari. He's not moving and he hasn't responded to me when I spoke to him."

Hideyoshi sighed a second time, more disgruntled than before.

"Not again…"

"…'Again?'"

"He sometimes gets like this when he gets too invested in what he's reading." Hideyoshi frowned. "Sorry you had to find him like this."

"So… this is …normal?"

"For him, yeah." Hideyoshi reached out and tugged on a stray strand of Mitsunari's grey hair, the other taking no notice of the action. "We haven't figured out why or how he slips into such a deep trance. He can be like this for hours."

"H-hours!?"

"Hideyoshi found him like this once when he'd also scared a few of the maids, then scolded him afterwards for not taking care of himself." Masamune grinned.

"We're trying not to encourage this behavior, especially when he worries people with it."

"Hey, Lass," Masamune ignored Hideyoshi, grabbing one of the flavored rice cakes, "wanna see a trick?"

"Masamune," Hideyoshi warned.

The Date Lord scooted closer to Mitsunari and held the little cake up to the younger lord's mouth. Houki was surprised a second time today when Mitsunari opened his mouth after a few seconds and took a bite out of the rice cake, chewed, then swallowed.

"Is he…?"

"Still out of it, I'm afraid." said Masamune, tugging on the same hair clump that Hideyoshi had, Mitsunari still not responding. "He'll eat or drink most things that's put near his mouth. Just be careful with your fingers as he might eat them too. Found that out the hard way."

"He's not a toy for your amusement." Hideyoshi said, rubbing his nose bridge.

"He'll also hold anything you put in his hand. I've seen Ieyasu stacking books on his head before, too." Masamune laughed.

"Really, all of you." Hideyoshi admonished.

"S-so!" Houki interrupted, "is there a way to… bring him back?"

"Sure there is!" Masamune said. "Take his glasses away or whatever book he's reading."

"It's really that simple?"

"It'd be real inconvenient if we couldn't bring him back, wouldn't it?" said Masamune. "Oh, when you feed him when he's like this, he knows if you try to get him to eat carrots."

"Carrots?"

"He hates them. No matter how you prepare them, he knows if you're trying to feed 'em to him. Cut up small, cooked, raw, or mushed into a paste with any spice you can throw at it, he just… knows. Me and Hideyoshi have tried it sooo many ways at this point."

"It is the strangest thing. Anything else he'll eat but carrots is where he draws the line." Hideyoshi said, putting his hand on the book Mitsunari was holding. "But you need a break."

With a swift tug, Hideyoshi pulled the book off of Mitsunari's lap and like magic, Mitsunari blinked and looked at his surroundings, as if he had been woken up from a deep sleep. His eyes scanned Hideyoshi's and Masamune's faces, finally settling on Houki's face and gently smiled.

"Oh, hello, everyone. It's nice to see all of you."

"Good morning, lad." Masamune grinned.

"Morning? But the sun is quite high for it to be morning. Had I fallen asleep?"

"In a way." Hideyoshi said. "You got caught up in your reading again. You should apologize to Houki as she found you first."

"Oh," Mitsunari's eyes widened, "My apologies, Lady Houki. To find me in such a state."

"You did give her a right scare, lad." Masamune laughed.

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

Abby

He was behind me. He was behind me again! The silence from the music room should have been my tip that something was up, but I thought he'd given up by now!

"You." His cold voice startled me, my hands squeezing the poor broom handle to the point of choking, it felt like.

Slowly, very slowly, I turned around to face Mozart, his arms crossed and his elegant brows furrowed. I think even his mole was judging me with the way he was staring.

"Y-yes?" Why did my voice have to come out like that!?

"Music room. Now."

What have I done to deserve this!?

My shoulders shook, feebly holding up my broom taller.

"I-I have chores to-"

"Do them later." Mozart was firm! "Tell Sebastian that I needed you for something."

"Y-yes, sir." I said meekly.

Mozart turned on his heel and headed back into the music room. I followed behind him, trying to keep my movements as quiet as I could. He's told me before that he thought I was loud, and, not wanting to irritate him further, I did my best to be silent. It was easy on the carpeted floor of the hallway, but marble floor of the music room, with no rugs to muffle sound? I felt exposed in a different sort of way, the green walls even feeling intimidating.

Mozart sat at the piano bench, an elegant piece made of white wood and gold accents, flipping out his coat tails to sit more comfortably.

"Leave your broom by the door."

I nodded, setting my once close companion against the door's frame, cradling it with my hands.

"Come closer."

I shuffled closer to the piano, my steps unbearably loud in this space. Was my heart as loud in this room as it was in my ears, I wondered. It wouldn't be surprising if Mozart said I was being loud again and it was my own racing heart he was hearing.

"You were singing the other day while you were cleaning in the room next door to the music room."

He could hear that!?

"S-sorry if I disturbed-"

"It was a song I wrote. Long ago."

His fingers glided gracefully across the keys, playing a familiar melody.

"Y-yes. An Chloë. You wrote it inspired by the poem, right?"

"Correct." He continued to play, seeming getting lost in thought. "Where did you learn it?"

"My auntie." I started, but corrected myself. "Well, one of her previous girlfriends taught it to me when I was young. She always sang it beautifully and I wanted to learn it too, despite knowing no German then."

She was nice, from what I remember of her, Auntie's German girlfriend. Father didn't like her and often got into arguments with Auntie over her. I was really young at the time, so I don't remember exactly what became of her, but I didn't see her after a time and I remembered missing her when she went away.

"Sing it again."

"E-excuse me?!" Say what now?

"Sing it." He repeated, starting the melody over as if it was looping, it was that smooth of a transition.

"I-"

He glanced back my way, as if to say he's not repeating it a third time.

With a brief pause in the music to signal my cue, I took a breath and closed my eyes, praying that whatever came out didn't sound like a screeching cat.

"Wenn die Lieb' aus deinen blauen, Hellen, offnen Augen sieht…"

It was as if a spell was taking over me, remembering a simpler time with Auntie and her German girlfriend at the time. I felt calmer. I know I was butchering the German pronunciation, horribly so, I'm sure. Mozart didn't stop playing though, nor did he say anything to correct me. I tapped my fingers against my leg to keep time, to keep from intruding on the song any more than I already was.

When the song ended, the room was deathly silent.

Mozart, for the first time I've seen him doing it, closed the lid across the keys and stood up.

"Ugh, noisy."

I froze and bit my lip. He was the one who asked (okay, he demanded!) that I come with him here, so  what was the point in-

Then, I heard it.

Applause.

One set of hands at first, then two, three, four more. The more clapping I heard, the redder my cheeks became.

"You're all lurking." Mozart said, irritated. "Move."

I caught eyes with Le Comte standing in the doorway, along with Napoleon, Vincent, Theo, Arthur, Issac, Dazai, and Sebastian all gathered behind him. Le Comte was the last to stop his clapping.

"My, what a lovely performance." He said, his entrance allowing the others to come into the music room as well. I could see the ends of Leonardo's overcoat sleeves sitting just off of the door, while Jean was leaning against the far window with his arms crossed in the hallway.

"You did well, Nunuche." Napoleon squeezed my shoulder, smiling proudly.

"Well, who knew our little dove could sing like that?" Arthur tapped my other shoulder while Theo ruffled my hair.

With all of the compliments I was receiving, my desire to crawl into a pit and hide for eternity grew. Mozart huffed as he stood at the doorway.

"Should have shut the door." he grumbled as we walked down the hallway, kicking Leonardo's coat sleeve out of his way.

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

Clara

If there was one thing that I could say about Clara, it's that she was quite cute when she wanted to be stubborn. I knew I was pushing her buttons, but I'd rather it be me pushing her than some stuffy courtier that decided to correct her. Sariel and Rio were kind to her (most times, one more forgiving, the other mothering), but she needs to learn how to act like a queen as will be her status soon. She needs to learn that giving orders was part of the royal life and that the other nobles will respect her more by acting above others, no matter her personal feelings on the matter.

Yet, I couldn't help but smile at how cute she looked, trying to make up orders to throw me off her tail. She'd spend a few moments deep in thought, likely thinking of what could be the most boring, mundane activity she could make me do, as though that would deter me.

Ever since I had found the legendary rainbow wine, she had gone into panic mode, thinking I had overworked myself and had been thinking of more banal requests, like help with her chores. Admittedly, finding the wine was a very difficult task, but, as a prince, I hadn't really experienced doing mundane things like chores, so it was a treat for me, experiencing something that was so normal to her but was new to me. Airing out her books was something I hadn't thought about doing before but now it made sense why her books always smelled fresh when I visited her house. Feeding her had been delightful, watching her face going from surprise, to confusion, to denial, to finally eating from my hand. Even wiping her face was pleasurable, feeling her cheeks warm under my fingers. She really is adorable.

The real challenge came later in the evening, when I spied her carrying a towel, her night clothes, a dressing gown, and a basket with a bottle of rose water and some soap.

She also spied me looking at her. I could already feel the corners of my mouth turning up.

"My lady--"

"No."

She's onto me, of course.

"I didn't even say anything."

"I know what you were thinking. And the answer is no."

"No to what?"

"No to helping me bathe."

"You were the one to suggest it."

"I didn't think you'd take it seriously."

"Well, I am taking it seriously." I walked closer to her, "I'm at your beck and call, remember?"

"That stupid game again..." she hissed under her breath, making me internally snicker. "Look, Nokto. You've been helpful all day and thank you for all your help."

"My pleasure."

"But I'm putting my foot down here. I can bathe by myself."

"I'm aware of that." I said, still following behind her.

"So why don't you go find something else to do?"

"I'm afraid I can't do that, lady."

"Why not?"

"Because I possibly can't refuse my lady when she's in need of my help."

"I. can. bathe. by. myself."

"I'm aware. I'm helping you out, however."

"And I said no and go find something else to do."

"I refuse."

"Nokto!"

I grinned.

"I'm a man of my word, my lady." I bowed. "You suggested that I help you in the bath and I'm here to do just that."

Clara flushed darkly.

"T-then, I want to give you an order."

"I'm all ears."

"I want-" she started, but was cut off by her back hitting the bathroom door.

"I didn't hear you, lady." I stood over her.

"Go and-"

I leaned in closer.

"Yes?"

She bit her lip, looking down. I brushed a loose hair behind her ear, making her visibly shiver.

"Let me help you in the bath, my lady."

She breathed in a quick breath.

"...No funny business. I really do need to wash my hair."

"Alright."

"And if I tell you to stop, you stop."

"Of course."

"Remember, nothing funny."

"None whatsoever."

She swallowed and I pulled on the doorknob, opening the door for her.

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

Miri

I saw that Miri had sunken into the couch cushions of the common room, the light from the fireplace highlighting the dark circles under her eyes. Lucifer had finally awoken after several days of recovery, I had heard, but the nights have clearly worn down the small sorcerer. It reminded me of time before she had received the Ring of Light, when the life seemed drained out of her. It might have been better to talk to her once she had returned to RAD's campus in her own time, but the Science Committee was insistent and the school year was ending soon. This couldn't be put off much longer, regretfully.

With an encouraging smile and a heavy heart, I opened my arms towards her.

"Congratulations, Miri."

"Diavolo?"

"Asmodeus and Luke have informed everyone of Lucifer's recovery. I'm glad to hear that he's woken up."

"Thank you." she was quiet again, looking away.

"And I've heard that you've been declared the winner of the Devildom Studies division thanks to your efforts in redirecting the moon's course."

She was silent and I had realized my mistake too late. I cleared my throat.

"A-anyway! That's why I'm here, so we can discuss the specifics of your wish! You've earned it."

As if there wasn't anything I wouldn't do for Miri already, the human that could literally flip worlds on their heads. She's surely changed the Devildom for the better, I'm certain of that. Any wish she had I would have granted, contest or no. She has become special to everyone, an exemplary exchange student and sorcerer, a wonderful addition to RAD's student council, a precious friend, someone that I would like to-

"I… don't have a wish."

And she surprised me yet again! And with a lie, as well! She should have known better!

Hmm… perhaps she was more exhausted than I had anticipated?

"It doesn't have to be anything big, don't worry."

Maybe if I reassure her, she'll tell me? Perhaps she's embarrassed about her wish?

"Even small wishes are fine to ask for. A delicious meal? Perhaps a nice vacation to the Human Realm? You and the brothers can relax on the coast of a private island! Any book or clothing you desire?"

I would give her all those things and more even if she doesn't ask for them. She deserves to have any happiness I can give to her and more.

Still, she seemed deep in thought, her hand cradling her chin.

"What if… it wasn't a small wish?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if I… never mind…" she shook her head.

"Please, tell me, Miri."

"…It's silly."

Stepping closer to her, I knelt down so I could meet her at her eye level.

"I had already given my word that I would grant any wish that came out of this contest, big or small. You've already moved worlds with your own powers. Now, I would like to do the same for you, if you ask it of me."

She fidgeted, her small hand reaching out for mine, but stopping midway.

"You said… anything within your power, you'll do?"

"Yes."

"And… if it's outside of your scope of power?"

What was she getting at?

She released a breath.

"Remember… when everyone went to the Human Realm for a vacation?"

"I do. Fondly."

Miri had been getting her sorcerer's license at the time. I smiled as memories surfaced of amusement parks, brief kidnappings, karaoke, and haunted hotel rooms. What a time that was!

Miri wasn't smiling, however.

"It was after I had passed all my tests. We were celebrating and had all gathered together and…"

Wait, I know where this is going…

"You had said at the time that… there was still a lot of bad blood between the three realms. And I know that there's still a lot of that, even now."

Holding her elbow, she continued.

"I'll understand if it's still not within your power, but… as for my wish, I… I want to live in Devildom. Permanently."

My heart swelled and dropped at the same time. What she was asking me was in my power, of course, but as I had told her before, the bad blood between the three realms would make her wish difficult to accomplish, else I would have swept her up and kept her at the castle ages ago.

"I feel like… I belong here. My family is here." She said sincerely. "And I know that the demon nobility won't like it any more than the higher ups in the Celestial Realm will. Always have to keep things fair for everyone…"

Her tiny hands clenched tightly, her knuckles pale.

"But… I guess I'm a little tired of everyone telling me things have to be a certain way. That it has to always be a certain way."

I agreed with her. Times were changing whether the old blood liked it or not. Demons and angels weren't at war anymore. Humans were proving to be quite capable in befriending both, as Miri has proven in her time in Devildom.

Still, change was going to be hard pill to swallow for some, we both knew that.

"As I told you before, it is within my power to grant your wish. You've made me incredibly happy in wanting to make Devildom your permanent home. But your wish, as you said, will be incredibly difficult to accomplish, given the current political climate between the three realms."

"I understand."

"And I will warn you that you and the brothers might come under fire because of this decision, from both sides. Are you sure you want that to happen?"

Miri was quiet again, the frown evident. It was a little harsh but it was something to consider. I knew Miri wouldn't think twice about her own safety, but when it comes to the brothers? She wouldn't bring them under scrutiny if she could help it.

"What's this about me and my brothers coming under fire?" a deep familiar voice said in the hallway, shoes clicking as they came closer.

"Lucifer." Miri said quietly.

"Lucifer! Glad to see you up and about." I said, standing up.

Lucifer nodded in acknowledgement, placing a hand on Miri's shoulder, lightly squeezing it.

"I heard you two talking." he said.

"Yes, about Miri's wish. She won the Studies division of the Devildom Science Fair."

"Hmm." Lucifer said.

"She's telling me about how she wants to make the Devildom her permanent home."

"I see."

"And we were just about to get into the schematics of how to make that happen. It won't be easy, I'm sure you're aware."

"I'm aware. It's a different process compared to when my brothers and I first appeared here."

"Thank goodness for that!" I laughed.

[shiuefha]

Spy x Family 30 Day Challenge

Day 4: Favorite Opening?

Simply, my favorite opening is the second one, Souvenir by Bump of Chicken.

I guess for now, this clip is the most beautiful opening clip from the series. The colors are just wonderful, and the song itself is really heartwarming. This opening is also the calmest opening song from the series, as the other two songs sound too... hectic, perhaps?

In short, this one is the most enjoyable opening for me.

Day 5: Favorite Ending?

Well, it's harder for me to decide my favorite ending from the series because all of them are great. However, I guess there's one of them which slightly become my favorite, and it's Todome no Ichigeki by Vaundy.

I can feel how deep the emotion of the song. It's really that meaningful, and not to mention that the MV referenced Yor's designer chair from the cover of the third volume of the manga.

Speaking of the ending, I guess I have one honorable mention, which is the ending of the movie, Hikari no Ato by Gen Hoshino.

Well, if we included this song, I definitely would choose this one as my favorite, because it just feels heartwarming with such a soothing music. The lyrics are also the easiest to memorize for me.

Day 6: Favorite Soundtrack?

(By the way, can I just write all of these here? I just feel like I can write these entries in one post though...)

For this one, it's between all of the BGM and the insert songs, right?

Well, I listened to all of them anyway, and there's one insert song which I really like, and I guess we can say that it's my favorite soundtrack...

It's the insert song from season 2 episode 2 (episode 27), Little Steps by (K)NoW_NAME.

The lyrics of the full song are really describing Damian's situation and his relationship with both Emile and Ewen perfectly. It's also such a motivating song.

Well, the other insert songs are also good though, but this one is my favorite one.

[greenbunny7]

[Dipper] *writing in his Journal

If you had told me a few weeks ago that I would not only be throwing journal 3 down the bottomless pit but the other two journals as well! I would have called you crazy, but here we are

In just a few short weeks, my life has been turned upside down again!

I know the author of the journals now, survived the oddpocalypse, and had the summer of a lifetime!

So much has happened in such a short amount of time. It feels like yesterday I was finding that journal in the woods (can you feel nostalgia for a summer that isn't even over yet?)

I guess what I'm getting at is these journals were there for me when I needed them, but I don't need them anymore. It's time for me to write my own adventures

Dipcember2024 30. Journal

Trying my hand at writing

@localcanadiancreature62

[bookshelf-in-progress]

I want to make "Shadowstruck" an Inklings Challenge story so bad, and there's no way I'll be able to finish even part of it in time.

[avampyone]

Prompt #25: Aesthete

Characters: Arazul and Cecilia De'fleur, mention of Jacques

Synopsis: The siblings speak of art and eternity.

Setting: Sharlayan, Archon's design.

Warning - None.

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

The brightness of the sun blazing overhead gave cause to relief Sharalyan of the icy chill and any remaining patches of snow that dusted the grass. Despite the wonderful weather, Dr Arazul would have been content to remain locked away in his study when he found a new sort of focus to center his thoughts upon.

In several distillation experiments, he finally processed alcohol that should boost the drinker’s immune system and help to prevent oncoming illness. Yet, the doctor pondered if there was a way to strengthen the effects and see how much medicine could be brought to its highest potential.

Arazul’s plans were soon thwarted by an unexpected visit by his sister, Cecilia, who thoughtfully packed him breakfast and informed him since their father and mother were away that he would be accompanying her with her shopping to find a new dress for the upcoming Studium ball. In truth, he recognized he needed a small break from his research and made no complaints to the diversion.

A few hours later after visiting several boutiques, Arazul initially thought of carrying all her packages home but realized there were far too many to do so and opted to have them sent back. He himself took the opportunity to buy a new coat or two. On the way back, he noticed that it happened to be the first opening of the Art club’s new exhibition for the season. Naturally, Cecilia’s expression remained thoroughly puzzled by him of all people to make such a suggestion.

The heart of the truth was that Arazul was a devoted lover of art even if he would never admit it out loud. Nor would he admit any details of him making frequent visits here when time afforded him such a luxury. Artists were not so very different from himself he found – continuously working to perfect their craft and rather passionate.

At the entrance, Arazul passed the professor staffing the table at the front a small pouch of gil for the admission fee to go inside. They both walked slowly side by side with Cecilia pointing now and then usually at an abstract picture of a moogle and other such creatures that caught her eye.

He paused to stare with hooded eyes at one particular painting that outlined the evening sun slowly setting beyond the sea’s horizon. This was all painted in various hues of red that traveled down ultimately into the waving crimson sea below.

Noting the locks of gold a few shades darker than his own from the corner of his eye, the doctor thought to turn away as if to show no interest but Cecilia was too perceptive for that, “Oh! Is this one your favorite, brother? To think of it, your jackets are all various shades of red too. Surprising you do not choose something more austere – like our father prefers to wear.”

“Are you serious...? Our father dresses more modestly than even a priest would. He would think even a single glance at a piece of art to be a waste of precious time. Considering that, it would be in our best interests if you told them nothing of our visit here today.” Arazul’s tone lowered to the end like he wished no one to hear. Their father had many friends around after all.

Cecilia lifted her hand to her lips to cover her soft chuckle and nodded all too happily at the thought, “Of course! You know he scolded me right before they left on their journey for buying a treat at the market. Hmm, I guess that would be why you kept your fondness for art a secret ..What do you like about it?” Her eyes that were a deep emerald green like their mother’s own glanced between him and the painting in pure curiosity.

Arazul glanced down from the painting, his hand slowly curling into a fist at his side in the barest hint of anxiety – he had never had to explain this before since no one had ever asked him, “For me, art is the only thing that possesses a sense of longevity on this star.”

His gloved hands beckoned out to the pieces on display, all of them a moment set forever in time, “All of these pieces will continue to exist long after all of us are gone, you know? Their creators leaving a piece of themselves – their vision as if immortalizing themselves in their creations…”

With a tilt to her head, Cecilia hummed thoughtfully before she suddenly entwined her arms about the many books-likely romance novels against her chest with a dreamy giggle, “That is where you are wrong, brother! I’ve read fables about them. Beautiful ashkin roaming the night, living for an eternity! Ahh, just imagine it- A lovely count or countess inviting you to their castle to greet with a bouquet of roses and dancing!” Her voice peaked with a little squeal and clap of her hands at the thought of the romantic gesture.

Arazul barked out a bit of laughter, shaking his head at his sister. It was clear she was reading some new material, “Quite imaginative, Cecilia. If they are anything like the stories I’ve read, they would rather dine on our necks than aim any of their ill-conceived romantic notions at us. If they exist at all...” He waved his hand dismissively when he began to turn to make his way to the next painting to view.

“Arazul! Come now, why must you ruin everything...”

[mindofanoverthinker]

30 DAY WRITING CHALLENGE - DAY THIRTEEN

what are you excited about?

meeting my niece when she's born somewhere in the next couple of days/week. i adore babies.

[megacarapa]

my diary has become like a chimera bc i keep switching languages back and forth depending on which language i remember a word in first

[brightdeadthing]

(FIRST DRAFT), 05/04/2025 | g.r.

[commissarabel]

Happiness is not money, not traveling around the world, not a new car and not a house in the city center.

Happiness is an opportunity to call your loved ones and hear their voice. Happiness is when you are expected at home. Happiness is when everyone is alive.

I don't need untold wealth, I don't need popularity, I don't need a mansion in London.

God, just keep my loved ones.

[fair-fae]

FFxivWrite23 Entry #2: Bark

FFxivWrite 2023 FFxivWrite23 Masterpost Prompt #2: Bark

It was an evening like any other when Faye made her way through the rough streets of Ul’dah, the noblewoman clad in fine, white clothes entirely out of place there. The sun had already set, but be it due to foolish naivety or perhaps a more deserved confidence, Lady Covington did not appear nervous of her surroundings. She was not one to drop her guard, however, especially not some place so rife with dangers, and so the sound of a thud and some rustling from an alleyway wedged between two buildings as she passed immediately caught her attention and stopped her in her tracks.

She crept forward to peer around the corner, relieved to find the source of the noise was only a trash bin that had been toppled over by a small and no doubt harmless creature now rummaging through its contents. Quietly, she approached the furry critter which eventually took notice of the sound of her footsteps drawing near, and it withdrew its head from the trash can to look at her. It was a small dog, a motley mix of any and probably every terrier and toy breed, all skin and bones with filthy, matted fur and crusty eyes. The mutt instinctively barked and growled, guarding the chicken bone within his maw, but he quieted after he seemed to decide the Hyur before him was a friendly enough presence. “Oh you poor, precious thing,” Faye cooed and she crouched down, heedless of soiling her long skirt and its pristine fabric on the dirty floor of the alley. Watching the dog, she outstretched one gloved hand and waited patiently for him to overcome his reservations, drop the bone, and hesitantly come closer to sniff her fingers, tiny black nose wiggling and his tail tucked between his skinny, shaking legs. Once he seemed comfortable, she dared to move her hand nearer, her fingers tentatively petting over his head, brushing the overgrown fur from his eyes. “That’s a good boy,” she spoke more honeyed words, and his tail gave a tired little wag. Finding that the pets had been received well enough, Faye scooped the dog up into her arms, paying no mind to the fleas that would surely leap onto her and nip at her flesh, standing up and holding him outward to inspect him with delight. “Let’s go home, get you cleaned up and get you some real food. Oh, and you’ll need a name, of course. Something proper and dignified…” her words trailed off thoughtfully, and with that, Sir Checkers’ fate was sealed. She always did have a soft spot for strays.

[ed89]

long ass rant in tags. abt to explode