#I will be asleep when it starts so

[fzrticv]

Fizz always took a while to get ready. Was makeup necessary if you wore a mask? For sure not, but he did so anyway.

It made a bit nostalgic, he hoped he would get to perform again eventually too. But for now, he would just try to enjoy to ball.

Not that he would wander off away from Ozzie much anyway, not that this is new. The jester had been sticking to sin like glue years ago.

" Well, how do I look?" Fizz asked his white queef while looking at himself in the mirror "The purple and orange goes nicely for the ring of gluttony ain't it?" Precious made a happy squeak which made the jester chuckle.

" You and the girls better be nice while daddy is gone yeah?" they pat her.

He just had to wait for Asmodeus to get finish and then they would be good to go.

[cozylittleartblog]

a little Postlet. . because i Miss them

[somegrumpynerd]

It's cold around the castle this time of year so Horror set a fire in one of the fireplaces, and some people got especially cosy

Cross by Jakei95 Killer by Rahafwabas

Bonus doodle:

[xxplastic-cubexx]

just wanted to make a color ref for Brain Therapist Magneto from 309 but i needed lights too for some reason

bonus The Flats Only Version

[jadewritesficshere]

Grey

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Synopsis: Steve gets a wake up call from yall's daughter

Contents: talks of aging, kids being kids, references to smut but nothing explicit

Steve groans as his consciousness comes to. Something is hitting his face. Someone. Repeatedly.

Steve squints his bleary eyes open as a hand smacks him in the jaw again. A small smile appears on his face even though his jaw stings from the impact. "Morning," Steve's voice is still thick with sleep as he turns to look into brown eyes barely peeking over the edge of the bed.

A quiet voice repeats back ,"Morning," to Steve before arms reach up over the edge of the bed to try and grasp something. Small hands grab the blanket and tug it off of him slightly as the child attempts to climb up. At two and half, Amelia Joy Harrington can barely see above the edge of her parents' bed, let alone get on it.

Steve hoists Amelia up and sits her on his stomach. Steve winces as Amelia scrambles, a stray foot hitting his thigh precariously close to his crotch. Arms are thrown around his neck in a hug as Amelia lays her head against her dad's chest.

Steve feels like his heart could burst out of his chest from the joy he is feeling. A hug from his baby? The best way to wake up in the morning. Who cares if his jaw is still stinging and probably red, his little girl loves him.

Steve sighs in contentment. Steve holds his daughter close until she starts to fidget and wiggle. Amelia sits up and throws her hands in the air. "Happy Birthday!" She whispers excitedly, except she has no concept of how quiet a whisper should actually be and says it in a much too loud voice.

"What?" Steve asks, hand hovering near Amelia's side in case she slips. Amelia's eyebrows furrow as she pouts at him, a look that is an exact copy of you. Her arms slowly lower as she stares at Steve. "Happy Birthday. You old." Amelia pouts at him.

Steve blinks at Amelia in confusion but nods his head. First off, rude, he isn't that old. Steve isn't sure where she gets her unfiltered, blunt commentary (it absolutely isn't him). Second, it absolutely isn't his birthday. Not even close.

"Why uh...why is it my birthday?" Steve asks, unsure if Amelia fully understands the concept. Not sure if he can explain the idea of a birthday to a two (and a half) year old. "Grey." Amelia declares giving Steve whiplash. Before Steve can speak, Amelia points at the comforter," Blue." Steve smiles," Yes, blue."

Amelia points to her shirt," Green." Steve nods. Amelia taps under Steve's eye, lashes brushing against her finger causing him to close it. Steve hopes she doesn't attempt to actually poke his eye.

"Brown." Amelia declares. "Thats right." Steve grins, his girl is so smart. Amelia points to his temple," Grey." "That's ri- what?! No!" Steve's mouth drops open as Amelia giggles. "Uncle Dustbin says grey is old. Birthday makes old. Happy Birthday!"

The creak of the loose floorboard in the hall notifies Steve of your approach. You peek into the doorway of the room, seeing your two favorite people. One looking aghast and the other giggling at her father's reaction.

"What's going on in here?" You ask, leaning against the doorway. "Grey. Birthday." Amelia announces, like it explains everything. And it does in her little mind.

You hum in response, looking at your husband who seems lost for words. Amelia slides off of Steve and off the bed, Steve guiding her so her feet land on the ground absent-mindedly. He would never let her fall or get hurt. Or you.

Amelia half walks half dances in your direction. A prance in her step, she stops in front of you and grabs your hands. "It's daddy's birthday," She says before headbutting your leg. You chuckle and pat her head as she dances out of the room, in her own little world.

"You lying to my kid again?" You ask once Amelia is gone. Steve sputters as he sits up," I did not- our kid- did not lie." "Uh-huh, sure," you say sarcastically. Steve rolls his eyes at you as he gets up out of bed.

Steve stretches as he rocks on his feet, back cracking, before strolling over to you. "Good morning," Steve mumbles, hand landing on your hip. You hum back as he leans in and kisses you. Soft. Slow. Sweet. Leaving you longing for more as he pulls back.

"Love you," Steve says, fingers running along the waistband of your pants. "I love you too," you want to melt into him. Curl up in his arms and stay in this moment. Let the love and adoration fill the air around you.

"Do I look old?" Steve is the first to break the silence. Your brow furrows in confusion," huh?" "Amelia she," Steve huffs out a laugh," said I have grey hair." You chuckle as you bring a hand up, fingers threading through his hair," You have some but its nice." "Its nice huh?" "Makes you look distinguished. Handsome." You bite your lip and look up at him.

Steve knows that look. Knows it well. It's the look you gave him the first time you moved past just making out. The same look you gave him on your first anniversary. The same look you wore on your wedding night. The same look you gave before Amelia was conceived.

Steve can't help the smirk that spreads across his face. If getting old gives him that look, well, he won't complain.

"What about me?" You ask, batting your lashes. "Beautiful," Steve kisses your cheek," Gorgeous," he kisses the corner of your lips. He continues to alternate between kissing all over your face and praising you.

"My love," Steve whispers before kissing you softly on the lips. You sigh into the kiss, one hand tangling in his hair, the other trying to pull him closer.

A loud crash from the living room has you two pulling back from the sweet moment you stole. "What was that?" You call down the hall. "Nothing!" Amelia yells back, making you sigh but smile. Steve can't help but grin too. His life was a little hectic dealing with a rambunctious child, but he wouldn't trade it for the world. And he thinks, if life is like this, he can manage getting old with you. He wouldn't want it any other way.

[starlesscastellation]

I love when Hannigram fanart is just

[sidewalk-cracks]

literally please give Battison a Dick Grayson in the Batman Part II.

The first movie was about Bruce's journey from not wanting to be Bruce Wayne, to realizing that he does in fact need to be Bruce Wayne, and that Bruce Wayne can be a force used for good just like Batman. Logically then, the second movie should explore the next immediate question on the table: okay, he needs to be Bruce Wayne. So who is Bruce Wayne? What kind of man is Bruce Wayne going to be? Bruce still feels defined by his trauma of his parent's death. Bruce Wayne still feels defined by his parents' shadows, by his father's legacy. He still feels defined by his grief. How does he make Bruce Wayne be something different?

Dick Grayson would serve as the PERFECT device for Bruce to discover who he can be. Because Dick Grayson is literally just a young Bruce, and Bruce sees that instantly (it's why he takes him in in the first place). So throughout the movie, as Bruce tries to help Dick process his grief, he's inadvertently processing his OWN grief. Dick Grayson unknowingly helps Bruce process his own trauma, and through their developing relationship shows him that Bruce Wayne can be more than a recluse, a failure, a man drowning in his own head- he can be a protector, a friend, a parent.

When Dick points a gun at Tony Zucco's head, Bruce talks him down, and all the words that he gives him are words he had wanted when he was a kid and his grief was fresh. Even though they're gone, you're not alone. I understand.

BATTISON NEEDS DICK GRAYSON TO BE ABLE TO TAKE THE NEXT STEP OF HIS CHARACTER GROWTH.

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Crazy issues that come up when a character is written a little too well

[lucaswarmhotchocolate]

Muggle college AU where Harry sneaks into tom’s dorm room (after making sure to drug tom’s water earlier ofc) and takes pictures of him while he sleeps and posts them online. because god fucking dammit, Tom riddle is the most annoying RA that could possibly exist, and he wants a little bit of light revenge.

Harry realizes that “light revenge” may have gotten out of hand around the same time he started stripping Tom, and suddenly he was balls deep in both Tom riddle and a felony. The gravity of the situation did nothing to prevent Harry from taking a video, even though it was just more evidence that could be used against Harry.

[hikkokoro]

THUNDER SAGA THUNDER SAGA

I JUST-

DIES AND EXPLODES

[lavenoon]

@naffeclipse realized it's criminal I haven't drawn him with claws so far, since I love inflicting retractable claws on any version of the dca I touch

*self insert is not a girl (he/she)

og detective au by sunnys-aesthetic!

[ronnabyte]

garmadon devouring his son ,HAPYP BIRTHDAY @dynamo-roll3r!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

stsg are equally prone to watching you sleep i think

[somegrumpynerd]

It was one of the rare nights that Nightmare decided to actually retire to his room for the night. He didn't need sleep, with enough flow of negativity he could easily survive without it, but sometimes it was nice to just lay down and rest.

He had a dream. They were rare too, if only because he slept so infrequently, but this particular one was common for him when he did. It was about killing Dream. The ongoing war between them was constant on his mind, so it made sense it would invade his unwaking hours as well. In it, he finally managed to crush the life from his twin, in the process gaining unwavering control over the entire multiverse as he watched the other's eyelights dim.

He sat up in his bed.

He was panting. His tendrils, slowly reforming from behind him, were trembling as they hung uncertainly in the air. He realised slowly as he returned to reality that he was gripping the sheets tightly with both hands.

Panic was an emotion Nightmare had rarely been on the other side of for centuries. It took him a few long moments to even identify it from within his own soul, rotten and imprisoned under the corruption. It took him even longer to identify the part of him that he had long assumed dead, which was crying out for nothing more than to cling to his brother for comfort.

For the first time in hundreds of years, Nightmare wasn't sure what he wanted anymore.

[rtbyg]

to celebrate another patriot rewatch and an update from @lyledebeast on ao3, here are my doodles!

[ledzeppelinmixtape]

wish house was a real doctor so i could be his mystery insomniac patient and after giving me horse tranquilizers and still not falling asleep he just hits me in the head with his cane and im out like a light