Garlic Bread @chomumo - Tumblr Blog

itsartbyjonathan

ive been playing through third semester for the first time

poisonshelves

hate

fiff1

karwif

Recent shuake drawing

pugyr

busy day & laying low at lebronk . with THE disguise OAT!!!!

little ooc forgive theyre domestic

god i love them so much

arennx

damian amd jon jon tending damian’s wounds cause i dunno he can be reckless and shit when it comes to jon

lanariia

more dami doodles because I love him

ghostly-bat

Having superpowers should wreck Jon and Damian's understanding of what normal friend things means. Like Bruce can identify Talia by her scent, her walk, her fighting style, etc.? Big deal. Jon has regularly been falling asleep to the sound of Damian's heartbeat since he was twelve and they lived across the country. Jon complains about illusions sent to trick them by going "they aren't even that good, they don't know how to imitate your scent or your walk" and Damian is like "...you know how I walk?" and Jon is just like "yeah, duh, I'm your best friend. I even know what your lungs sound like" and Damian's response is just "🤨🤨🤨🤷🤷🤷"

(Also Damian definitely smells of jasmine, just like his mama)

Jon: “That is not how Damian breathes...”

“...what?”

Damian: “Jon smells like sunshine and fresh cut grass that is definitely not him”

“You know what he smells like???”

Damian: “Of course I do. He's my best friend”

“.....😶😶😶”

ghostly-bat

When Damian says he misses Jon they both know who he's actually referring to. But Jon likes to pretend it's meant for him and not the 11 year old kid that got taken away.

ghostly-bat

Bruce “your son looks like your ex” Wayne

madsbizadv

Damian Wayne is the type of person to be cuddling Alfred the Cat and slowly blink back at her so she knows he loves and trusts her too.

ghostly-bat

Jon: “If this bag is all orange cheetos then we gotta have a sleepover”

Jon: *dumps entire bag of cheetos out on a public picnic table*

Damian: “You're so fucking disgusting you poured on the goddamn table—”

ghostly-bat

Damian being a doctor and being able to see dead people is a bittersweet concept

sovarytsa

As the sun surrenders to the ocean’s edge, I gather the only dream I have ever called my own.

You are the fleeting gold of twilight that still commands my gaze, long after the light is gone.

You are the cherry blossom—brief in season, eternal in my memory—unfolding beauty in the space of a breath.

You are the comet that carves fire across the night, leaving the sky brighter for having known you.

And yet, here you stand: brighter than all of them, and mine to keep.

In all my years, I never believed an eloquent daydream could step into flesh and voice—could take my hand and fill a world that tried to drown me in darkness.

But you did.

You became the light that stays.