#but oh i can dream cant i

[lucky-rabbits]

oughh brain bad again. rookrol modern au save me....

[musubiki]

balor 🥰

[cozylittleartblog]

i now understand how certain people felt when harpy eda was revealed 😳

prints here

[newttxt]

uh. modern girl piece retainers… i guess

[valeriianz]

I've had this Dreaming The Proposal AU sitting in my drafts for a while. Then @voukkake comes out with this art and I figured it was time to brush off the dust and share what I'd written lol. This is seriously all I'm going to write so if anyone is interested I'm begging you to pick this up. I'm dying to read Dream awkwardly interacting with Hob's family (also @valiantstarlights suggestion that Betty White is Destiny?? ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT). Anyway...

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Dream is about to be deported because his visa application has been denied. He is in the middle of a meeting with his lawyers when Hob, his secretary, pops in the room to inform Dream of a very important phone call and Dream comes up with the insane plan to marry Hob to keep his immigration status.

He gestures for Hob to come over and Hob, clueless, wanders into the room and stands next to Dream, who takes him by the arm and tugs him just a little bit further to stand awkwardly close.

Dream announces their engagement and Hob stands there, shell shocked and feels his mouth moving against his will. That yeah, they are getting married. They are in love, sure. It isn’t until they leave the office, following Dream back to his, that Hob’s brain seems to come back online.

“What just happened in there?”

Dream grouses, head down, already back to his work as if nothing happened. Like he didn’t just use Hob as a pawn in his scheme to get around his denied visa application.

“They were going to make Morningstar editor-in-chief.” Is all Dream says, disdain dripping from every word. He still hasn’t looked up.

Hob stands there, still as a statue. His head is swimming with words, with emotions. Anger, disbelief, betrayal… and a small tiny flicker of undeniable interest that he hastily stomps out.

He manages to put the pieces together rather quickly though, while Dream continues sifting through paperwork.

“This is illegal,” Hob manages to croak out, brows furrowing. 

“Oh, please. The government looks for terrorists, not book publishers.” Dream’s head is still down in his paperwork.

Hob blinks, taking a step up to Dream’s desk. “I'm not marrying you.”

“Sure you are.” Dream sets aside a stack of papers and finally gives Hob his attention. “Because if you don't, your dreams of ‘touching millions of lives with the written word’ are dead.” 

Hob’s jaw drops. That was a line, corny as it was, that he’d used in the panel interview for this job. Three years ago.

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

“Were you not in that room? I could get fined, I’ll go to jail over this. If you want me on this deal, you will promote me to editor.”

Without even glancing up from his phone, Dream scoffs.

“Absolutely not.”

“Well then I guess you’re screwed. Buh-bye.” Hob turns with a flourish and has to bite back a grin at how Dream splutters behind him and grabs him by the arm.

“Fine– fine! Editor.” His face seems to go through the five stages of grief. He drops his hold on Hob.

“And You’ll publish my manuscript.” Hob throws in. In for a penny.

Dream’s brows narrow and he shakes as if he’s physically controlling the urge to stamp his foot.

“Sure. I’ll publish your hack manuscript.”

“Good.” Hob slips his hands in his pants pockets, staring at Dream, deciding on one last nail in the coffin.

“Now do it properly.”

Dream cocks an eyebrow. “Do what properly?”

“Propose. Like you mean it.”

Dream’s entire body seizes up, but he manages not to let it show, distracting himself by slipping his phone in the pocket of his expensive slacks and clasping his hands in front of him.

“Will you marry me?”

“No.” Hob, the arrogant bastard, is visibly biting back a smirk. “Say it like you mean it.”

Dream takes a long, steadying breath through his nose.

“Hob Gadling. Will you–”

“And get on your knees.”

Dream absolutely refuses to decipher the thrill that shoots through his body at Hob’s command. Instead he keeps his mask of irritation and indifference on as he scans the crowd around them. They are still outside the courthouse, and the concrete sidewalk is going to potentially tear Dream’s Hugo Boss black wool pants.

So he carefully lowers himself, scowling as the smirk on Hob’s face only widens as Dream slowly settles onto the ground.

Once he’s as comfortable as Dream’s going to get, he clears his throat.

“Hob Gadling,” he glares at his subordinate from under his lashes. “Will you fucking marry me?”

Hob curls his lips in mock consideration, looking up past Dream’s head. He rocks back on his heels and nods with a forlorn sigh.

“Okay.” He still hasn’t met Dream’s gaze. “Could've done without the sarcasm but it will do. See you at the airport tomorrow.” 

And turns and walks away, leaving Dream to fend for himself on the ground.

[ezlo-x]

Also if I ever figure out how to stream/record through my switch I would love to share you guys my acnh island :]

[f3l1c1af0x]

crazy idea

what if Creator was in @i-ate-your-dog-srry daycare au? (no cannon ofc! just a stupid idea if she was in it) i would think kids would bite her tail or try to take her halos and like climb on her back just to pluck her wings feathers for the colors (heh sucks to be you Creator >:3) and like she would go home crying because her tail has like 8000000 child bite marks and her hair was messed up because of children (like I dunno dumping paint on her) am I going to do the same with Harper? no she can't be trusted with kids (she will send them to the void) YET AGAIN NOT CANNON JUST A STUPID IDEA I MADE UP NOT CANNON AND WILL NOT BE CANNON IN ANY WAY!!! JUST A IDEA IF CREATOR WAS A DAYCARE WORKER!!!

[treasureplcnet]

someone on the bodies production team you have to release more layout/bts pictures of charles whiteman's flat please. this is a great start but i need to know him better. particularly if it's got about as much mould as a second year uni house and if he owns as many chairs as it seems LOL

[cyaneyedcl]

drew and animated some beefleaf with this audio cus i think they fit the concept so well :') i had original plans to make it angstier but ill save it for next time :6

hope u like it as much as i do!!

ALSO! i posted this on tiktok too so if u could drop a like and share it there too i would really appreciate it :( <3

🔗 https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLAbb3PF/

[hauntingblue]

Gear 5 luffy's laugh is so contagious I just hear the drums and go insane how does this work. What did he do to me

[wormedeye]

day 4: romance @eonweweek

🕊️Characters: Eönwë x male elf OC (whose lore i will probably drop in the tags)

🕊️Synopsis: Eönwë’s young apprentice wants to heal him after the sword training

🕊️Warnings: implied self-harm, bc eönwë’s a lil depressed, english is not my first language, 700+ drabble that turned out to be 1k+ drabble.

🕊️someday it will be on ao3

His sleeves were rolled up slightly above the elbow. The tunic was loose enough, though when Eönwë raised his sword to strike his muscles still strained the linen cloth. Dear Eru.

“Look, how I’m holding it.” Eönwë repeated the move once again,more slowly. “You don’t cut straight, tilt it slightly.”

Laireno nodded, trying to memorise everything from how his arms move to the expression on his face. Eönwë stopped and stuck the blade in the ground and folded his hands on the pommel.

“Now you.”

Laireno breathed out, took his sword and tried to repeat everything his mentor was doing. Eönwë watched silently, until he suddenly interrupted the elda in the middle of a move. Laireno froze obediently, frowning slightly from strain.

Eönwë walked behind the elf’s back and placed his hand on the elf’s forearm, just short of the elbow. Laireno understood the unspoken order and unbent his arm until Eönwë stopped him. And something was still bothering him, so he also corrected the direction of the sword, bending the elf’s hand. The linen sleeve crept up Eönwë‘s arm, following the movement, revealing a bandage hidden beneath.

“Your hands are shaking.” The Maia noticed. “Are you tired?”

Laireno shook his head desperately.

“No, Sir, just trying not to move.”

“Do tell me, if you are, and we will take a break or finish for today, alright? I don’t want you to overtire yourself.”

“Okay.”

Eönwë returned to where he was standing and told him to repeat the whole thing from the beginning. Laireno did. He tried really hard, wanting to impress his mentor. He had listened closely, he had watched carefully, he could repeat this movement that Eönwë was coprrectingfor the second time already.

“That’s it.” Eönwë finally commanded. “You need to rest.”

Laireno lowered his sword and looked at the Maia with hope in his eyes.

“Did I do it? Was it good?”

Eönwë almost smiled.

“Yes. You did very well.”

Laireno beamed, and then Eönwë couldn’t hold back a small smile. A strange, incorrect smile, but still a smile. It was never right on Eönwë‘s face. He always frowned for some reason, sometimes even lowering the corners of his lips instead of raising them like everyone. Like he wasn’t truly happy. But Laireno was, every time he saw his mentor smile.

Eönwë leaned on his sword stuck in the ground, staring off into the distance. Silent and pensive. Laireno couldn’t take his eyes off him, a small, but a very strong intrusive thought not leaving his head, a question he was dying to ask. He paced back and forth, tugging at the hem of his clothes, gathering his courage. Finally, he couldn’t hold it any longer and strode determinedly over to his mentor. Eönwë immediately turned his head to the elf, shifting all his attention from his thoughts to his young apprentice. Laireno lost a half of his former confidence, but didn’t give up.

“Sir Eönwë, do you-” He lowered his gaze, unable to hold eye contact with the Maia. “Are you-”

“Don’t be afraid, I don’t peck, I don’t bite.” The herald said softly, encouraging the elf to continue.

Laireno took a deep breath.

“Are you injured?” He blurted out, his eyes still locked on the grass. “I saw a bandage on your arm, and I thought- I was worried-”

His fuse faded and he fell silent, waiting for an answer. Eönwë did not speak a word as well. Laireno raised his head and met his mentor’s detached, almost defensive gaze. He hadn’t expected such a question. Maybe didn’t even want it. Laireno regretted asking it.

“I- Yes.” Eönwë said slowly. “Yes, you could say that.”

He straightened, and Laireno had to raise his head higher.

“You don’t have to worry about me.” Eönwë said a little softer.

He jerked his sword out of the ground, stepped aside and leaned his back on a tree, wincing a little as the bark scratched the tender skin between his wings. That don’t make Laireno stop worrying, not even a little, the exact opposite had happened.

He ran up to his mentor with an almost teary look.

“I’m sorry, please, I didn’t want to disturb you, I didn’t mean- I just- Y-you might be in pain, and i’m stressing you with this training, I don’t want you to feel bad-“ Laireno stuttered. “I just- I wanted to help, but you probably don’t need help, you’re a Maia, you can heal yourself, and-“

“Hush, owlet.” Laireno stopped talking and stared up at Eönwë with his big star-like eyes. “It’s alright. You haven’t hurt me nor stressed me out in any way. On the contrary, I appreciate you care so much.”

Laireno sighed.

“But… You can cure it, right?” He asked hopefully.

“It’s-“ Eönwë turned away. “It’s not a wound I can heal.”

Realising he had said more than he should, he added immediately.

“Though it will heal soon, don’t worry.”

“Please,” Laireno pleaded and got down on one knee, taking Eönwë‘s hand in his. “Please, let me help you.”

“Laireno, I beg you, get up.” the herald whispered in a faltering voice, looking a little shocked.

The elf shook his head desperately. Unfortnately for his mentor, he was stubborn and determined.

“I know how to do it, I learnt so I could do it at war…” Laireno stopped and squeezes Eönwë‘s hand. “I want to heal you.”

The Maia knelt with a heavy sigh, to look his apprentice in the eyes.

“Laireno, sweet Laireno” Eönwë‘s voice was gentle and sad. “You really don’t have to do this.”

“But I want to.”

Eönwë sighed and relented. He was unable to refuse, unable to look in those shining eyes he couldn’t bear to see unhappy.

“Fine.”

He released his hand from the grip of Laireno’s warm palms carefully and rolled his sleeve up reluctantly. The elda sat at his mentor’s side immediately and touched the bandage with trembling fingers. He was visibly nervous.

Eönwë was sitting with his head lowered as the young elf untied his bandage. Layer by layer, there were not many. Noe Laireno could see four red stripes, very contrasting on the Maria’s unearthly pale skin. Today’s sword practise had disturbed the scratches that had barely closed up.

Laireno’s gaze shifted involuntarily to his mentor’s hands. His nails were cut unusually short. Laireno didn’t ask anything, aware of Eönwë‘s unwillingness to talk, but he couldn’t keep himself from stroking the skin an inch above the top cut. Eönwë frowned, his head hanging even lower.

The elda cupped the herald’s arm with his palms, feeling how tense the muscles under his hands are.

“Relax, please.” Laireno said with a look of a serious healer.

Eönwë took a glance at his apprentice. It was very obvious the elf was taking this extremely seriously. His lips were pressed in a thin line, his blond eyebrows drawn together, his eyes focused on the wound in front of him. It was…endearing.

Eönwë turned away again, relaxing as much as he could.

Laireno took a deep breath, closed his eyes and started humming something slow. The scratches began to heal. Eönwë felt a slight tingle in his skin, but didn’t move and even held his breath.

Soon the humming stopped, and the warmth of Laireno’s hands left Eönwë‘s shoulder. There were just thin whitish lines where the cuts had been.

“That’s it.” Laireno said quietly, folding his hands on his laps like a good student.

“Who taught you that?”

“Estë’s Maia, Sir. She said that if i want to be a knight, I should be able to heal as good as I fight, because…” he begun to tug on his shirt again. “Because, a knight must help those he care about, know how to save the, and-“

The elf fell silent again, unable to fight his embarrassment. hen he looked at Eönwë pleadingly and whispered “Please, don’t do it again.”

Eönwë smiled his wrong smile again.

“I won’t.”

He took Laireno’s hands in his.

“Thank you, owlet.”

[randomminty]

Putting my iono and grusha here as well. They’re friends for streaming reasons

[icewindandboringhorror]

just a few little bits from the past few days

[lacking-hydration]

stu . if you even care

[ayyponine]

not to be a milennial but harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban really is that bitch....