#might share them too

[salmadurka]

Hear me out - One Thousand and One Nights (-ish) AU for Dreamling! I have only a rough idea, some outlines and dialogues so far so bear with me. Gods know if I’m even gonna write it... Take this just as an idea

every 10 years a murder of raven show up over a village/town/place and one of them sit at the village square. This indicates a soon arrival of the King of the Nightmares, the King of Stories

someone in the village must be chosen to go to him and tell him a story (OR Morpheus chooses them, showing up in their dream!)

if they fail, the King is not pleased with the story, they either never come back or die within a week (their last week is filled with nightmares)

if the King is satisfied, he lets them go and grants them a temporary immortality. The storyteller is expected to visit the King in the next ten years and tell another story

most don't last a single night, some live for years before failing

there are tales about a couple of storytellers who lived long lives, telling the King stories for long years - like Nada or Calliope

there was a rumor/tale/legend that Calliope even had a child with the King. He grew up to be a wonderful bard and storyteller

 Morpheus travels across the land and realms so sometimes is not seen for decades or centuries. The true tales about him and this ‘arrangement’ can become 'just' tales, legends or just rumors the time he shows up again in the area

enters Hob!

he is chosen by the village cuz he’s already a pretty good at telling stories (maybe he volunteers a bit too?)

something-something the King likes his tale and makes Hob his storyteller!

decade after decade Hob’s stories pleases Morpheus

after a long time, centuries even, Hob starts to have the (for us known) suspicion that there is more to their meetings than just the sharing of stories - "I don't think our little meetings are about the stories and tales anymore. Not really. Yes, you enjoy them, oh King of Stories, but I think it's more about who is telling them to you. It's about the company.”

I’m still trying to fit the fight-aftermath and/or Dream’s capture BUT Hob would be mad at him at first but than would gradually decided come, every decade, to their usual spot to tell a story to no one (Dream would not show up but Hob would still have his immortality, for reasons)  

BONUS: every 50 years, after 5 meetings, Morpheus (has to?) asks the storyteller if they want to continue to serve him. They can leave and live the rest of their mortal life. However, he won’t ask them again for another 50 years and they can still fail afterwards (they are not protected even after serving him for so long)

BONUS: Morpheus keeps his distance at first. During the first meeting he’s just a dark silhouette sitting on the throne but as the time passes he becomes more open. Maybe he tries to keep the ‘King of Nightmares’ scary appearance at first but gradually gives up, stops give a fuck

[juiche]

My friend and I had this (we thought) hilarious idea to do a glittery stickersheet of Ghost 💀✨ You know, these really corny, old stickers with lots of roses and badly applied glitter that you could find in magazines back in the day x)

[mrmrsman]

The bats have so many folks around, even if they aren't always working together. Enough that folks like to joke/write about Danny just kinda showing up acting like he already lives there. He just kinda blends in.

I'd love to see more magic motivated versions of this. Some kind of spell that affects the bat's perceptions of the past and present, making them actually miss that this boy wasn't with their family too long ago. Maybe it changes their understanding like it's a time line shift, maybe it fogs their mind just a tad and makes them glaze past something like it wasn't even there. I like the second if only because I feel like that would make it more likely for the bats to realize a spell was a foot.

Imagining this from Danny's side, hes terrified this whole time of getting found out. He knows how and when he showed up here and maybe even how flimsy whatever magic is in place is. Imagining a Desiree wish that was either very carefully worded or Not so carefully worded. Maybe he placed himself with the Wayne family with the expectation that he would quietly mooch of some rich idiot until he was ready to be on his own. Or maybe he wished himself to be a part of the batclan, taking up a mask and patroling with them as a bird that Doesn't Exist.

Ofc eventually the spell has to be broken, leaving the bats confused worried scared angry probably even amused, and a billion other things. WHY did this teenager decide to adopt himself into the Wayne/bat family? Who the hell is he and where did he come from. Someone call Zatanna, there is some magic Fuckery going on.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 118

Everyone is freaking out. The titan tower was broken into, no signs of who it was, and Tim- Robin- is missing. There’s blood on the walls, taunting them, implying that Tim is going through agony, and they can’t deal with another dead Robin, they can’t- 

Meanwhile Tim is bemused, maybe a little concussed because that would explain things maybe, as he’s found himself in a living room full of books and there’s a pair of kids too? One is straight up adoption bait- wait no there’s three, with two of them being adoption bait and the third being a redhead. There’s a trio of small children there already playing by the couch he’s been bundled into. 

Where the heck is his mask- or his bo staff or any of his supplies- is that the fucking Red Hood?! No, couldn’t be, must be the concussion, because why would the Red Hood be feeding him a bowl of soup?

[ohitslen]

Living together.

The snail video if you are interested :)

[mumblesplash]

he’s back !!!

[soupysundae]

🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

[shorthaltsjester]

the mighty nein - critical role

this is a place where i don't feel alone. this is a place where i feel at home.

[darlingshane]

Jon Bernthal & Deborah Ann Woll at D23.

[welcometogrouchland]

(ID in alt) hi sorry for back to back marvel fanart I swear I still have dc stuff lmao. However I did recently read X-Men: first class and got a bit carried away doodling this after Lmao

[sensiblereblogifposts]

Hi.

I'm going to break my very strict format for once because I need your help. For the past 9 years, the irl human behind this blog has been involved in the effort to save a museum from incompetent and money hungry executives.

The museum is filled with precious objects, telling the story of the history of technology, and how it relates to art and society.

Many of these are objects are large, but delicate and have been in place for over 30 years.

No one within the museum's community trusts the CEO, who was appointed by a hostile former government, and prefers renting out museum spaces for business functions over educating the public.

In a few days, the museum is set to close down for renovations. Yet none of the staff or volunteers have been given any clear details about these plans. All we know is displays which have inspired generations will be torn down, likely never to be restored.

We have a petition asking the new government to step in and stop the closure:

If you could sign this, you'd be doing the human behind this blog a massive favour.

[willowser]

you don't know how much comfort your dragon king bkg drabble has given me ever since you posted it!! i keep reading it i love it sm 🥹

as it turns out, the man bakugou is — a bit harder to handle.

he sleeps like a heathen; you once thought the dragon bakugou to be a bit lazy, with how often he tended to curl up in the fields of grass, warm under the sun, but now — it would seem his little human form needs significantly less rest.

almost up all hours of the day, and when he does finally lay down, he's everywhere. a mess of limbs: one thrown carelessly out to the side and the other bent at an angle you can't believe doesn't hurt his joints. his head stays tucked into you somehow, either buried in your neck or pressed against your ribs — or you'll wake to find him nose-to-nose with you. he still snores like a dragon, however.

you're also beginning to wonder if there is a bottom to the pit of his stomach. he ate much before, whole fields of things, but you expected that appetite to dwindle, at least a little, now that his stomach has decreased considerably in size. and in number ? you're not even sure how many stomachs a dragon has; that's not something that was mentioned in the fairytales.

it burns through him quickly, gives him more energy than he needs, and it doesn't ever seem to affect his weight much. already, he's huge and thick with muscle and eating as much as he does never dulls the severity of his cut abdomen. not that you're looking all that much.

— not that you have a choice not to, as he seems to have little-to-no understanding of —

the door to the bathhouse kicks open, with enough force that you already know who it is without ever turning to look. you try not to shriek when you see him, because he seems to like that in some evil, impish way.

you've been alone to wash so far, thankfully, as the inn you'd managed to find was small and far enough out from the nearest kingdom that the occupancy was low — enough for you and your little brute.

the man bakugou comes to stand in front of the bath, blinking and huffing against the steam. finding clothes for him was — nearly impossible, and so the trousers you'd found hanging on someone's line outside fit above his ankles, a bit too tight around his waist. instead of a shirt, you've wrapped him in a scratchy linen, swaddled him up like a baby to cover the small smattering of scales that decorate his body, almost like freckles from the sun, though they gleam just as bright and red as they ever have. no matter his form.

a horn has started to sprout, on the right side of his forehead, and you've done your best to cover that, too.

you have no idea how long this man thing will last. if it's permanent or if he even has control over it. the last thing you need is for him to switch back, somehow, while you're in the middle of feeding him, absolutely demolishing whatever tavern you're in and calling all of king todoroki's guards to attention.

bakugou grunts, almost sleepy, and tosses a fat, weighty sack onto the edge of the bath. it jingles a certain jingle that makes your heart stop.

"oh, allfather—" you move for the edge, awkwardly keeping one arm against your chest despite the fact that he's seen it all by now. when you peek inside and confirm your fears, you lob it back to him furiously, as if it were a steaming potato. "where do you keep getting this stuff?"

things have started to turn up, miraculously. shiny things — like coins and rings and gems. things he could not have simply found rolling around in the dirt.

"go put it back!" you hiss at him, and the tone of your voice makes his frown deepen. you never realized how pouty he was, when he was still a dragon.

you think he understands you, and you're pretty certain he just chooses not to listen; instead of doing what you've told him in the slightest, he simply dumps the coin-purse to the floor, and then lets his linen and stolen trousers cover it as he unceremoniously undresses.

the biggest issue that you would say the man bakugou poses is — his complete lack of understanding of personal space.

"bakugou!" your voice wavers, shocked again by his nakedness. as if you haven't seen it all by now. "no, you — get out!"

but he does the exact opposite, which is hop into the steaming water, ignoring the arm you hold out to keep him away as he saddles up beside you. skin against scales, pressing a nose into your hair to huff out his annoyance, to make it something you can feel.

if anyone were to walk in right now, they would — probably think the lie you'd told the innkeeper was true. that you are a simple traveler and this is your mute, over-sized husband.

regardless, you think this behavior isn't polite. especially in a public bathhouse.

"bakugou," you try again, turning your face away as you speak to the wood-paneled wall. "i'm taking a bath, you have to wait your turn."

all you receive in response is another huff against your ear and a low rumble of disagreement from his chest.

he has yet to speak back, and has only used inhuman sounds as his points of conversation. the only word you've ever heard him utter is oi, which he does when he really thinks he needs your attention. you're starting to wonder if he's named you that in his head. oi.

curiously, you turn back to him and the movement has him pulling his face from your hair, just enough that he can look down at you, too. watch you, with the red-rippled sea in his eyes.

they're — amazing, you will admit. just as bright and detailed as they always have been. fit for a fairytale told by the fire, veiled by the soft-ash of his lashes. he watches you through them, half-lidded, and you wonder if it's something other than fatigue that has them so heavy.

"do you know what i'm saying?" you ask quietly, voice lacking the firm heat you want it to. instead it's heavy, too, weighted by something soft and unfamiliar and frightening. "can you even understand me?"

bakugou doesn't respond, not with a huff or a rumble or ever a purr, like the one he let out on the night he lay over you by the lake. you've only heard it sparingly since then, oftentimes in his sleep when his face is pressed into you.

you try not to frown at his silence, try not to let it disappoint you because it shouldn't; he's a dragon afterall, and you're not sure what it matters. the little horn protruding from his forehead catches your eye and you reach up to touch it gently, watching him blink away the water that drips from your wrist — and then he's turning into you again, too close.

beneath the water, you feel his hands skate up your bare thighs, wrap around your waist until your chest is pulled flush against his. you feel his huff, again, against the damp skin of your neck but it's slower, lighter. not laced with his frustration. some unknown thing you feel guilty for liking.

you drop your hand to his hair, rushing full force into all the damned things you've thought about doing but have been too afraid to. he's soft between your fingers, and you trace your nails lightly against his scalp until he groans quietly; a new noise, one you don't know how to translate.

your fingers stop when they brush upon little spines that have grown at the base of his skull, that have started to trail down the center of his back.

suddenly, tangled up in the bath with him, you wonder how much time you have left.

bakugou huffs again into your skin, a little fiercer this time, and it's because of his light jostling that you realize how rigid you've gone. you try to relax so that he will, too, though you must not do a convincing job, because a sharp nip comes to your earlobe.

"ow!" you squeal, but he doesn't let you go far, not even as you try to jerk away from him. in fact, the harder you try the more his teeth show: into your cheek and the point of your jaw and then dangerously low on your neck.

it's not until you finally freeze that he stops, huffing again, with a warmth that burns more than the steaming water.

and then, very quietly, he grumbles, "shitty wife," into your collarbone, just before biting you again.

[critter-of-habit]

Just remembered this dumb comic I did like 3 years ago as part of the 'space road-trip' au art I did - ie. Hera, Sabine, Ahsoka, Enfys and Barriss are all on the Ghost together and Hera is already exhausted by everyone's nonsense

(bonus Ahsoka ending up bunking with Hera and not shutting up about Barriss)

[st4rstudent]

Winn + Mac fusion idea. lalala.

[bellpeppersand-beef]

-“I think we’re gonna have to kill this guy, Jet.” -“Damn.”

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you