#its good for him

[triptychofvoids]

you should smooch your husband, NOW!!! HE NEEDS IT!!!

[daedalusdavinci]

24. superbat. this motherfucker JUST got to bed if any of u assholes wake him UP

24. Protecting your lover’s sleep as they doze on your lap, making sure nobody bothers them as they entrusted their peace to you. thinking about.... jlas superbat. i may not have followed this prompt to the letter but its very long so you get what you get at this point

It was just one of those days- one of those nights- one of those weeks- where one problem shifted right into the next without break, and they all found themselves running more ragged than usual. In the tower, heroes everywhere seemed sluggish and exhausted, running low on sleep and worn out from the last battle. Diana had tipped onto a couch and hadn't gotten back up again, and Wally had nearly passed out in the cafeteria, starting awake and drifting off again in the middle of a burger. After being pried away from the monitors, J'onn had gone straight to his room to sleep, and there were countless others who had followed his example.

Bruce was too stubborn. Clark was reasonably sure he'd been awake longer than anyone, but Clark could still see him typing away, doing god even knew what.

"I'll sleep when I finish," he said, before Clark had even said anything.

"I wasn't going to tell you to sleep," Clark said, taking that as his cue to approach.

"Yes, you were."

"I know better." Clark set a hand on the back of Bruce's chair, glancing briefly over the monitors. Logs, security feed, news reports- all of it a huge mess of information to sort through. Someone had to do it, but that someone didn't need to be Bruce.

Bruce looked tired. His shoulders sagged and his fingers hesitated, slow on the keys. He'd been drooping all day, attacking everything with the energy of a man on his very last leg. He'd sustained too many injuries during the fight. He'd been slow, and sloppy. He needed to sleep, but he'd never let Clark talk him into it if Clark let on that that was what he was doing.

"Can you do all this from anywhere?" Clark asked.

Bruce blinked slowly. "Not from anywhere."

"But from another computer."

"Yes. I have others."

"A laptop?"

"Yes." Bruce was eyeing him with suspicion, now, leaning back in his chair.

"Then you're doing it from there," Clark decided. "You can burn your retinas to your heart's content- I won't stop you. But I need company."

For a long moment, Bruce looked at him. Clark could practically hear the gears turning as he thought it over, taking longer to consider it than he usually would in his exhaustion. Then, finally, his gaze softened. He sighed, slumping back in his chair and rubbing his hands over his face. "Just don't watch one of your stupid cooking shows while I work."

"They're not stupid," Clark protested.

"Whatever." Bruce waved a hand, pushing himself up out of the chair. He hit a few more buttons, and the monitors condensed into the smallest screen, allowing Bruce to pull it off of its docking station. "Lead the way."

The tower had grown quiet and still with sleeping heroes. With his hearing, Clark could hear Booster and Ted's laughter from the cafeteria, but everywhere else had turned muffled and heavy with the air of sleep. People murmured back and forth to avoid waking up sleeping heroes in the commons, and most of the sleeping quarters were occupied. Somewhere, Wally got ready to portal home, while somewhere else, Oliver snored loudly. No one passed them on their way to Clark's room.

It was easy to get stuck on the fringes of his senses, listening to everything instead of whatever was closest. The need to keep an ear out for danger hadn't quite abided yet, and it left Clark feeling unmoored and anxious. Normally, it was a nuisance, but maybe this time it'd keep him awake long enough that Bruce would sleep first.

It was almost too easy to pile on his couch with Bruce. Normally, any attempt at getting Bruce to accept even a mediocrum of comfort resulted in a fight, but he sat without prompting, eyes never leaving his tablet. He didn't complain when Clark flopped down with a heap of blankets, even when Clark twisted to lean against the arm, swinging his legs across Bruce's lap. Somehow, they settled in like that; Bruce, on his tablet, and Clark, half-watching some nature show that was interesting enough, but not so interesting that it offended Bruce's sensibilities.

As the narrator droned on, Clark struggled to narrow in his focus. The lights from the TV flickered colors across the dark room, and it felt so quiet, surrounded by the suffocating vacuum of space. If he strained hard enough, he knew he could hear Earth, but he tried not to. He could feel each individual fiber of each blanket, and each snore in the building. The tap of Bruce's finger against the screen of his tablet felt obscenely loud. The constant shifting of his attention and the overwhelming amount of stimulus was exhausting, and he could feel himself sagging under it, so worn out that it was hard to hear the words coming from the TV. He rubbed his face, running through grounding exercises in his head to no avail. He wasn't sleeping, at least.

Bruce's hand came to rest on his knee. The pressure of it was enough to shock Clark out of his thoughts, but light, and gentle. Bruce hadn't looked up from his tablet, but his thumb tracked back and forth absently.

Slowly, Clark relaxed back into the couch again. His eyes fixed on the TV, but without really registering the pictures. He couldn't feel every fiber in the blankets, or hear every snore, but he was suddenly hyper-aware of that weight on his knee- a single point of focus that he locked on helplessly. It wasn't constant- every now and again, Bruce lifted his hand to tap the screen- but it always returned. Somehow, that caught Clark's attention more, leaving him waiting, expectant, caught on every detail of Bruce. The bracing warmth of Bruce's legs under his own, the vaguely ticklish stroke of his thumb, his breathing, steady and slow. Out of habit more than anything, he found Bruce's heartbeat, listening to the low thump of it until it felt like his own had slowed in turn. The familiarity of it was soothing, safe, protected, the reliability of the Batman unexpectedly grounding after so long.

His head slipped off his hand, and he started, eyes opening. He hadn't realized he'd closed them.

"Seems like I'm not the only one trying to stay up," Bruce commented.

"I'm not," Clark said. Although, maybe he was. He frowned through the haze of exhaustion, trying to focus on the TV.

"The life and death of a sea star are just that riveting," Bruce said, teasing under the deadpan.

"Shut up," Clark muttered, and shifted again, re-propping up his elbow on the arm of the couch.

It was difficult to understand how Bruce stayed awake. Without the cowl, the bags under his eyes were dark and deep, his expression something beyond exhausted. And yet, even now, wrapped up in blankets and secluded in the quiet comfort of Clark's room, listening to the soothing drone of a documentary, he tapped at that stupid tablet. Clark was beginning to doubt his ability to outlast him. The restless discomfort that had kept him awake earlier- his ace in the hole against Bruce's stubbornness- was fading into a sleepy warmth all too quickly.

And then, Bruce started to hum.

Clark could count on the fingers of one hand how many times he'd heard Bruce sing. Diana had once told him that Bruce had a voice so beautiful it could make a villain weep, but Clark had only ever heard it rarely, and never meant for him. It was a quiet lullaby, murmured to a baby that wouldn't stop crying as Clark searched for the mother, or a hum, pressed against Robin's hair in the aftermath of fear toxin. It had always felt like something he wasn't meant to hear. Now, through the ridiculous fog of exhaustion, Clark thought of sirens, calling soothingly to sailors from a distance.

Bruce's humming was soft and low, just under his breath. The tune was impossible to place, but haunting, and mournful. The sound of it seemed to vibrate through Clark, blanketing his senses until all he could focus on was just Bruce. Bruce was warm. He was safe, and close, and so confusingly present, as reliable as the tide. Time seemed to turn fluid, listening to that soft song, and Clark's eyes closed without his permission, just listening.

When Clark next opened his eyes, it was dark. The TV was off, Bruce's tablet forgotten somewhere in the tangle of blankets. His neck should've ached from the arm of the couch, but his head was on the cushions, propped up by a pillow. How Bruce had pulled that off without waking him, he had no idea.

Bruce was a warm weight against his chest, breathing slow. Judging by the awkward positioning, Clark doubted he'd meant to fall asleep, knees still jammed under Clark's own and cape still on. One of his hands was tucked against Clark's side, his face hidden between his own shoulder and Clark's sternum. It was... sweet, really. To have Bruce feel comfortable enough to sleep was a unique privilege, and one rarely afforded.

Clark hadn't outlasted him, in the end. But Bruce was sleeping, and as Clark let his eyes drift shut again, he allowed himself to consider it a win.

[zebaji]

Morro hates Harumi for absolutely no reason.

If he HAD to give a reason, it would be because she successfully managed to summon her chosen evil entity and cause mayhem across Ninjago with the Ninja incapacitated and he didn't.

But really, he thinks that her motives and aesthetics are stupid and not the fact that she was wildly more successful than him. He's not bitter. He's not.

[lollytea]

It is 9:43pm and Hunter is in his room blasting music so loud that the house is practically shaking (--THAT YOU WERE ROMEO YOU WERE THROWING PEBBLES AND MY DADDY SAID STAY AWAY FROM JULIET AND I WAS CRYING ON THE STAIRCASE BEGGING YOU PLEASE DON'T GOOOOO)

Darius: [sitting in the living room, swirling a wine glass, trying to ignore the noise that is pounding from the ceiling]

Eberwolf:

Darius: Don't look at me like that! All I said was that he couldn't visit his girlfriend on a school night.

[breadandblankets]

Tim tells Bernard to have a nice night out, to have fun with his friends

Meanwhile he lasts about 5 minutes before he's pulling up every CCTV feed in the area to keep an eye out for his boyfriend

[rosencrantzsguildenstern]

i think lab experiment tenn is so great. he should be put in every lab

[jacqcrisis]

I love the meta-narrative of robbing the bank with Astarion. You don't have to break into the vaults. Theres no reason to but listen: you're all back in the big city, the vampire is probably experiencing a level of stress and anxiety that he hasn't felt in a while considering his freedom is always one bad fight from being taken away, and a cult is coming to turn everyone into mindflayers.

So how do we let Astarion blow off some steam in a way that doesn't involve murdering innocent civilians? That's right, you throw his ass in a bank and let him let his hair down. He needs this. It's for his mental health.

Go steal from some rich assholes, baby girl, and after, I'll buy you a shiny new bow and so many greater invisibility scrolls.

[glsneeg-enthusiast]

i need to draw randy pathetic and bloody more

[musubiki]

Wait is the m34th lime a canon thing or an au?

at this point i think its a canon thing!! i like what it does for his character and the story so i think ill keep it!!!

[gayleafpool]

Hugo is at his best when he’s crying and broken ❤️

SO TRUE make him suffer!!!!

[furysburn]

@tvstarkuma | STARTER

“Woah! No weapons! Please! I’m an innocent Teddie bear!” Teddie had sensed another person in Mementos today and had walked closer to investigate. As he walked closer with his squeaky feet the stranger came closer as well. Now they were at a standstill in an empty corner with no shadows. “See? Not armed.” His claws were removed before he approached him. Teddie did have weapons with him but they were not equipped and impossible to detect. “So…why don’t we talk?”

Being in the heart of Momentos was a privilege Akechi took full advantage of literally feeling the pulse of Tokyo. He could feel the shifting attitudes of the people, know when they're weak, pass on enough intel to scrape through another day.

But—

Out of all the things he thought he would find, a human-sized Teddy Bear was not one of them. The gun he leveled went down at its squeaks and begs for mercy hoping the action would earn him the beat necessary to find a face for the occasion.

( Defiant ? Kind ? Confused ? )

"  —Talk ? " He settled on an open smile letting the trigger spin around his index finger. " Are you a Persona ? A shadow given new form ? Or maybe... " He took a step closer and looked at the large zipper across its throat. " A new look for the Phantom Thieves ? Although, I don't know how inconspicuous a giant Teddy Bear costume would be in a palace. "

[yangscowlick]

One of my fav things about V7 (and V8) is Qrow being treated like an adult.

[breadandblankets]

as someone who is firmly not a taylor swift girlie i don't fall into the trap of thinking jason would listen to her

However i am a paramore girlie and i firmly think jay listens to ignorance and cries thank you for coming to my ted talk

[bahoreal]

obsessed with this

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Pit bonnie considers himself a great dad!

[weewoo911]

Actually upon further reflection this shouldn’t happen when they’re hanging out one on one this should happen when they’re on a ✨ double date ✨

(It’d have to be canon divergence bc I’m ignoring the Shannon2 thing rn but what better way to highlight how free and open Tommy is and how deeply repressed Eddie is)

Ok but Tommy & Eddie hanging out solo and the conversation turning to Tommy’s experience of being closeted.

Tommy talking about how he did have a girlfriend at one point but it just felt like a performance and he was relieved whenever she left

Eddie ‘maybe you should go home’ Diaz: … huh well. That’s. Hm.