Tumgik
#dad tired is dad
dukeoftheblackstar · 9 months
Text
Lazy Headcanons (feel free to share yours)
I really like the idea of lazy headcanons for muses. It can be intimate or just their plain guilty pleasure wherein nothing (apart from work and emergencies) would ever pry them off it.
Plo Koon:
Plo Koon's thirst for knowledge is probably as thirsty as I am for him (and puzzles). If he's down with a good book that's really got him hooked of something his centuries of season haven't stumbled across, he's not above having to raise a finger and make you wait till he finishes the last remaining pages or just so until he can reread the section of that got him really hooked or confused.
Tumblr media
I'd like to think Plo (at least my version of Plo) is also into puzzles and board games like chess, checkers, game of the generals (kekekke) and such. He's got about 1238912839128391 ways to make a move but would ponder so heavily on that one killer shot and wouldn’t really pay much attention to you but wouldn acknowledge your presence with "Mmmms...." and "I see."
Tumblr media
This isn't much of a headcanon because it is canon when he handed of C-3PO to Wolffe.
He'd happily pass having you entertained by someone else if he's not interested or if he's about to indulge in some solo-reading bonanza or would rather not be interrupted on any of his personal wind-down activities.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Meditation is a must for our Baran Do Sage Master Jedi short King ♥ I HC that he'll write a note over the door of his chambers just so his boys know not to invite him in the usual 104th foolishness at least for the day. No sign means they're welcome to barge in (hopefully not as this worries Plo so much that his boys will eventually ingest so much Dorin gas they'd get sick. But has not the heart to lock up because boys are like cats clawing at the door when Buir has been in there far too long) while sign means Wolffe has to have extra headaches today.
Tumblr media
Plo Koon requires little management when it comes to nourishing himself because he's tapped so much into the force it basically nourishes him. But in times when he can actually indulge in consuming food, he really savors and enjoys it. Given he does this in his private chambers, but who's to say he's not doing it all soaked in a bubble bath with scented candles and some good tunes? ♥
He has an old phonograph-like device handed down from generations to generations. A Koon phonograph from his father's father's father's.
Tumblr media
And in the event that the Wolves are indeed persistent (as there is no 'Meditating on-going sign') and are so adamant to check on whether Plo Koon is still alive, he will do little to no protest and just be in his tub with a tray over, Dorin delicacies with his mask off and assure the boys that he is not depressed, sad, troubled, annoyed at them, ill, or anything apart from his best self.
He does this in his most very tired dad-voice and is all "Yes, yes, Commander Wolffe, I am unharmed. I simply wish to eat my dinner in peace." He sighs as the rest of the Wolves puff up trying to not inhale Dorin gas and Wolffe tries, tries, to do the same.
Tumblr media
Comet passed out on the floor and Sinker and Boost about to panic and sound the alarm.
Tumblr media
Warthog quietly picking a morsel from Plo's plate.
51 notes · View notes
beybuniki · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
checking in on everyone
5K notes · View notes
Text
Bruce being so done with life because none of his kids treat their medical files on the batcomputer with the importance it deserves. And the worst part is, he can't tell if it's on purpose or if they're all Just Like That.
Dick:
He loves his eldest son but for some reason, he refuses to do anything but put down estimated recovery times in his injuries folder. It's usually in the range of "2 weeks" to "48 hours" but that just leaves Bruce worrying about what happened.
One time, he put down 3 months and he nearly had a heart attack till his son called and told him Kor'i had dumped him and that this was how long he was going to be wallowing.
Jason:
Is nice enough to tell him what happened but doesn't add the degree of injury.
So he'll put down "stabbed" but won't elaborate on whether it was a flesh wound or worse. Bruce goes grey very, very early after Jason is on the field.
Tim:
Gives him just the location of the injury and leaves him to guess what happened.
Could say "arm" or "back of the head" or, on one memorable occasion, "spleen", but won't say what the heck happened to any of those parts.
Was he stabbed?? Shot at?? Who knows. Certainly not Bruce.
Damian:
Only mentions the retribution he got for any injuries he received.
"It's been handled", "he'll never be able to get the drop on me again" and more often than not, just the word "avenged".
Bruce is surprised he has any of his original hair colour left at all.
Duke:
By far the worst one. He writes down injuries in terms of his own pain scale.
Could write "OW!" or "Not Gucci" or "Better than that time Jason hit me in the face with a TV remote".
Once wrote "Non-fatal" which sent Bruce into a spiral because "holy shit Duke?? What do you mean non-fatal?? Yeah I sure hope your injuries weren't lethal?!"
Cass:
Has never been injured on patrol. Often leaves him question marks in her file which...yeah, fair enough.
17K notes · View notes
temeyes · 5 days
Text
Tumblr media
nibble (photo ref here!!)
2K notes · View notes
radiance1 · 7 days
Text
"I need to find my darling husband!" Said Danny, dressed to the nines in a very elaborate royal dress with a lot of jewelry running through the ballroom after having been on the opposite end of a very worrying phone call.
"Seriously, what do you even see in that mortal!?" Screamed an observant and Danny stopped and leveled them with a glare cold enough to freeze over an active volcano and sharp enough to cut through obsidian.
"He makes me laugh."
Unlike those dead suitors went unsaid, but everyone at the ball (read: search for a bride/groom for the royal ghostling) practically heard it anyways.
Meanwhile over in the land of the living
Okay so Jason may have messed up. Now you see, he hasn't seen his platonic husband for tax benefits in a while, and he's been very careful to not let his identity as the Red Hood slip up before . Not even once in their relationship.
(He's not counting the time his in-laws sniffed him out as a Crime Lord, because Danny never believed them.)
Now, it wasn't exactly his fault he slipped up. You try to fight off an entire group after being pulled up on out of nowhere on the phone while trying to hide said noises of fighting.
Who was he calling? Danny of course since he said he was away for business. What business? Never specified and Jason wasn't going to pry.
So now here he was, bound 'helplessly' as Jason Todd along with a few other random civilians. Which, like, rude.
Wasn't he already good enough for this ancient ritual or whatever?
You know, he really should have walked with that "Anti-kidnapping device" he got that one time. Which honestly he feels like he should be surprised that such a thing exists but considering it was from Bruce. Well.
He's not surprised.
Oh, there's the Justice League now. Shame, he wanted to knock out a few guys himself- Oh, now he's being used to summon a ghost from the Infinite Realms of Royal Lineage.
Yea he probably should have walked with that "Anti-kidnapping device."
Wait a goddamn-
Is that-
"My darling husband!" Danny shouted, scooping him off the circle and away from the head cultist and swinging him around. "You had me worried sick!"
Now, he should ask the question anyone would in this situation when finding out your best friend and platonic husband for tax benefits was apparently a ghost of royal lineage.
"Why're you in a dress?"
"Okay, first of all I rock this thing." Danny huffed.
"That you do." Jason agreed rather easily.
"Second of all, blame those guys over there." He jerked his head in the direction of two very green floating eyeball people.
Not the weirdest he's seen, honestly.
The Observants were whispering to each other and leveling them-Jason in particular-a look.
"Now as you can see, I already have a spouse and I don't need another!" Danny hugged Jason closer for emphasis and he took the time to whisper in Danny's ear. "Did you really marry me to play the husband card?"
"Well, yes." Danny agreed. "But also because of taxes, because I love you and you're my best friend."
"So, we're still done for watching that movie right."
"Obviously."
A pained grunt came from below them and they both looked down to see Batman standing over a very unconscious cultist and looking up at them.
Hm.
He forgot they were there.
"So," Jason began, staring Bruce straight in the eyes. Batman's eyes narrowed. "Don't suppose we can push that forward to right now?"
"Yea, sure why not I'm not doing anything important." Danny leveled the Observants a look, and before either they, Batman, or the Justice League could do anything they both disappeared.
2K notes · View notes
dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
Text
DCxDP Fic Idea: The Contact, the Butler and the Sly Time Lord
Martha accidentally engaged Bruce to a higher being when he was two.
It sounds terrible, but she hadn't thought that the man wearing the Time ghost costume at her husband's Halloween Gala wasn't wearing a costume and was actually the physical embodiment of Time.
She just thought he took Halloween very seriously.
Mr. Clockwork was charming and didn't care that she had married from the lower level of first class. Her parents were rich, of course, but they weren't old money, and they certainly didn't have a lot of power to speak of.
Because of that, the elites of Gotham thought she wasn't good enough to be in a family such as the Waynes. It was so lovely not to be dragged into conversations that were thinly concealed insults.
Everyone else at the Gala thought Martha had no right to be there with them. Why was she just a few zeros off from being middle class, and wasn't it just so sad that Thomas would stain his family with her?
Secertly, Martha prayed Bruce would do something wild, like marry a girl from Crime Alley or even adopt kids in lower classes to make them all choke on their pearls.
Her son would be one of the most powerful men in a few years, and she couldn't wait to see what kind of hell he would unleash upon them. She would never push, of course, but it would be a nice fantasy to have every time she had to face passive-aggressive comments from ladies told by their fathers they would be a far better Mrs. Wyane.
" Why, hello there. Aren't you the cutest little thing?" Mr. Clockwork coos, smiling down at Bruce. He clung to his mother's skirt, his matching cowboy costume a miniature version of what she was wearing.
The boy had wandered over in the middle of their conversation once he was bored of coloring at his table. Martha couldn't blame her poor baby. There really wasn't much to do for those his age here.
Thomas had stated that children were usually not brought along due to being loud and distracting.
Martha wouldn't hear any of it, insisting her son would be going with them at the party or there would be no party. The majority of the elites believed children should be seen, not heard, and that boiled her blood something fierce.
Thomas had thankfully known when to pick his battles, so he allowed his wife to drag him to a costume store for a family costume to wear. He currently chatting with a group of investors in all his cowboy glory somewhere on the other side of the gala.
"Say thank you, Bruce," She tells her boy, but he only hides his face more, causing the two adults to chuckle. "Do you have kids, Mr.Clockwork?"
"Yes. Two daughters and a son" The man chuckles "All three are a handleful but I love them dearly."
"Oh, how wonderful. Bruce is my only son, but I want to give him siblings," she tells him warmly. She can picture Bruce chasing after his younger siblings dressed up as the Grey Ghost he loves.
She knows Thomas was worried about their chances of having a second child. He was informed not too long ago that he may suffer from secondary infertility. She didn't mind. If they couldn't have a child of their own by blood they could easily adopt.
Martha worked long and hard to provide good orphanages to the city. Maybe one day, a child from there could be her own. She'll have to speak to her orphanage managers- those in charge of the kids- to see if they could help her find one.
They have successfully been getting kids into good homes (At least she thought the number of children constantly changed, and the kids were never seen again, meaning the families that adopted them loved them enough to never return!)
Mr. Clockwork hums "how about giving him a spouse instead? My girls or boy could be a good partner"
Laughing, she assumes he meant her work on bettering the lives of the gay community- in honor of her brother who passed during the AIDs epidemic. "I'm sure Bruce would be happy to hear Mommy found him a husband."
"Is that a yes?" Clockwork eyes' flashed with an emotion that was gone too quick for her to identify.
"Yes, of course. If that is what they both want, I wouldn't mind their marriage at all."
Mr. Clockworks red eyes - contacts? A medical condition?- gleam, and his voice takes on a strange rhythm. "Then so shall it be, my son Danny Fenton shall be married to Bruce Wayne per their Blood Mother and Core Father deal."
Huh. Maybe Mr. Clockwork is a nutcase. Suddenly, she thinks back to her father, who would often tell her that she lived in a delusion because he did not want her to see the horror that Gotham truly is.
Even when you think you're doing good, Gotham has a way of making your work into nightmares.
Was Mr. Clockwork one of those people he warned her about?
Thankfully, he leaves not long after that. He claims he must return to work before his co-workers notice him gone. She doesn't see him for the rest of the night and half wonders if she had been speaking to one of the wait staff they hired as extra help.
Not that she minded, but it made her think his name might not even be Clockwork.
She tells Thomas the story hours after Bruce is put to bed with a candy bucket and the last guests have all slipped home. Thomas is exhausted, having been playing host longer than her because Martha had left around eight to take Bruce trick and treating. Then she got home and put him down for his bedtime.
She got back to the party around eleven but it was a much-needed break from all the hostility that Thomas had been forced to face alone.
"WHAT!?" Thomas booms when she finishes the story. They had just crawled into bed, and Thomas had been rolling to his side for sleep before her words flung him back. "Clockwork!? You're sure you spoke to Clockwork!?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"What did he look like?"
"Um well he was in costume, but red eyes, blue skin, and he was wearing purple robes." She watches as the blood drains from her husband's face. "What is it darling? Who was he?"
"Oh, this isn't good....Alfred! Alfred!" Thomas frantically calls as if the devil had appeared in their bedroom.
Their servant and sometimes lover comes racing into the room, carrying a loaded shotgun. Ever since Thomas had met him overseas when he hired the British man as a personal bodyguard, he fell hard and fast for Alfred but he still deeply loved Martha.
He had sent Martha a letter detailing his feelings for his guard, and only after she had given him permission did he pursue the butler. Alfred had insisted on meeting Thomas' wife to prove that she was okay with him having a lover, so he had followed Wayne back home.
Then he simply never left.
Maybe because he was the best butler Wayne ever had, with his regal training and service in her royal highness' army, but she thinks that her own developed feelings for Alfred convince him to remain.
Alfred insisted that he was only a servant and thus could not be added to their marriage besides a bed partner occasionally. Still, Martha hoped one day they could convince him otherwise.
Bruce already saw him as a second father.
He looks at the pair, dressed in their nightwear in a rather enticing position (Thomas had grabbed Martha by her shoulder, to look into her eyes but that left them rather entangled on the bed) with no visible threat, and raises one brow.
Before he can say anything Thomas is all but rolling out of bed in a frantic leap. He tangles up in the blankets, falling gracelessly over the edge in failing limbs "Martha made a deal with Clockwork!"
At once, Alfred's handsome face drains of blood. "Oh dear, Martha darling, you made a grave mistake."
She can only blink at the men in confusion. "Who is Clockwork?"
"He has many names, but I knew him as Merlin," Alfred informed her evenly. He took her hand in his, the tremble in his fingers revealing his unease. " He had shown interest in Master Thomas before and was the one I protected him from. I barely fought him off and only due to outsmarting him. I would not be able to do it again a second time."
What?
"He is also known as a Fae or incubus in some circles. The kind that steals you away for fun." Thomas babbled from where he was pacing next to the bed, eyes franticly glancing about as if the bogggie man was about to leap out at him from the shadows.
For a moment, Martha wondered why her husband, a man of science and medicine who had never been superstitious, believed this Clockwork was some...some creature of myths.
"Martha, love, what did he ask of you?" Alfred questioned, bringing her hand to his lips as though kissing them would confirm she was safe before him.
"He asked for Bruce to marry his son."
"Oh, gods!" Thomas fretted, speeding up, his long strides becoming far more frantic. "Please say you didn't say yes."
"I-thought it was a joke, I didn't see anything wrong with it, I- said yes."
Alfred closed his eyes, looking like a man who had just been informed his death sentence had been signed by the Queen. "Then all we can do now is pray."
Years later, as Alfred is dusting the portrait of his deceased loves. He allowed his hand to trace the cover of Martha's painted smile and Thomas' strong jaw, mind filled with stolen kisses and sweet nothings that were ripped away that fateful night.
He is still struck by their loss. Every now and then, the knowledge of their death creeps in during his most mundane activities. It's like a kick to the chest every time.
Oh, how he misses them.
Ding Dong
The front doorbell jolts him out of his memories so violently it takes the aged Butler a moment or two to get a hold of his senses. He puts down the duster, climbs down the latter, and quickly makes his way to the door.
Stopping to fix his suit coat, he throws it open with a prepared smile. He expects extra help from the catering company Master Bruce hired for Wayne's annual Halloween Gala.
He was not expecting the two men, one looking nervous around Master Bruce's age and the other sly. His age is hard to gauge, but it may be due to time not affecting him as it did mortals.
Alfred's blood freezes at the sight of those cunning red eyes and smirk. "Merlin."
"Alfred Pennyworth." The demon chuckles. "I prefer Clockwork, as you know, but it's good to see you remember me. Most humans are prone to forgetting in their limited age."
"What are you doing here?"
"Why I came to fulfill the deal between Martha Wayne nee Kane and I"
"Martha is dead. Your contact is void."
Clockwork chuckles again, the sound as deadly as poison. "The contact lives as long as all those involved in it live. You know this."
Alfred presses the panic button on his wristwatch, knowing it sends a message to everyone in the manor to evacuate immediately. He will not live through this battle, but hopefully, it will give Master Bruce time to escape. "You will not lay a hand on Master Bruce."
"Come now, Alfred. We are to be in-laws. Our sons are joining in holy matrimony. Why the hostility-"
"Excuse me what?" The other man-demon? Ghost? Higher-being? cuts in, looking at Clockwork with brows knitted into a frown. "What did you mean holy matrimony?"
"Danny, you're getting married," Clockwork says with a cheerful wave.
"The hell I am!" The man barks, flushing red with anger. Alfred can hardly believe he just yelled at the monster. "I am not marrying some random guy!"
"It is the way things must go for the good of mankind-"
"Oh, go suck on a lemon! We both know that whole "this is fate" is bull!"
"You are embarrassing me in front of our new in-laws, younn man" Clockwork actually waves a finger at the fully grown human. "This is my one chance to marry you off to a good man. We both know that you can't attract a mate on your own."
"What!? Yes, I can! I've had girlfriends and boyfriends before!"
"And yet, no spouse! No wedding! Not even a ring!"
"Moby Dick, I knew this bonding fishing trip was a lie! You can't make me get married because of some contact you made when I was three!"
"It's not permanent! Martha Wayne said If that is what they both want, I wouldn't mind their marriage at all. This means you both must want to be together after one year of marriage. See if you like it, and if you don't, I can always find you a new husband."
"This isn't returning a jacket to a store! I can't just see if I like being married Clockwork!" The man hissed running a hand through his hair. "We're going home. I'm so sorry for bothering you today Mr. Alfred."
Alfred blinks at the young man's sheepish smile, wondering if ti's a trick. "No bother at all."
"Danny, if you leave without marriage, Bruce Wayne will die in an hour due to breaking our contract," Clockwork says, crossing his arms. "Honestly, your sisters were far more mature regarding their marriages."
Danny punches him in the face with a glowing hand. The higher being falls like a sack of bricks.
"Right, I'm going to drop this one off at a nursing home, and then I'll return to marry Bruce. Only so the contact doesn't kill him, and I swear I'll only visit every once in a while until our year is up." Throwing- Merlin, holy shit- over his shoulder as if though he weighed nothing, Danny waves at Alfred and scurries away, vanishing into a green portal.
Alfred is left standing at the doorway, utterly flabbergasted. Distantly, he wonders if the hollowing wind is actually Martha laughing herself silly in the afterlife.
Carefully, he reaches up for his com, switching it on to the sound of his family's frantic bickering. They were all worried about him since he sent the alarm and were fighting about following policy or saving him.
"Master Bruce," He says faintly silencing the coms "Please come to have your suit fitted as soon as you can."
"What for?" His son asks, likely looking for a coded message, but Alfred doesn't have the mental capacity to make one.
"Your wedding, sir. It's tonight, courtesy of your mother."
The coms explode into chaos.
2K notes · View notes
youkaiyume · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I desperately need Charlie and Bee to get a reunion. Please Optimus, you wouldn't deny your favorite son who recently just died and came back the one thing he wants more than anything else in the whole world would you????
4K notes · View notes
violent138 · 6 months
Text
Bruce, slumped in a chair: "Alfred it's so insane, he just doesn't stop. Yesterday he broke his ankle and he's back in those goddamn pixie boots with 'extra supports' like that fucking does anything-"
Alfred, stirring sedatives into the tea he's making Bruce: "Oh my."
Bruce: "-I just don't know what to do. He needs to take a break, holy shit that much anger can't be good for a child, and don't even get me started on the coping mechanisms Alfred, they're unhinged-"
Alfred, looking up with a tight smile: "You don't say. Sugar, Master Bruce?"
Bruce, dragging a hand down his face: "-and let me tell you, I don't know where he gets his energy because he hasn't slept in two days! Two days! I was impressed when he first got here, but now I'm just concerned-"
Alfred, handing the tea to Bruce: "Understandable, sir. Anyone in your position would be."
Bruce, nearly choking on the tea: "Alfred, Alfred, I'm so dumb--the lack of sleep must be getting to me-- just spike his orange juice with sleep meds. Child doses of Nyquil or something. Yeah, that'll do it."
Alfred, watching Bruce drain the cup: "I couldn't agree with you more."
3K notes · View notes
superbat-love · 3 months
Text
Bruce savored his coffee, relishing the peace after a challenging night tackling increased crime spillover from Metropolis. It was a rare moment alone, away from the daily hustle and bustle of dealing with the kids.
“We’re back!” A loud, cheerful voice shattered the peace from the hallway. Bruce sighed, realizing his envisioned peaceful afternoon was short-lived. Nine little kids bounded through the front door. Wait…nine kids? Bruce did another quick headcount and confirmed that, no, it wasn’t a stress-induced hallucination—there was an additional kid who wasn’t there that morning when the group left for the fair.
As the kids walked past him towards the stairs, Bruce pulled off their caps and scanned their faces one by one to make sure. Dick, Jason, Barbara, Steph, Tim, Cass, Duke, Damian… Finally, he came across an unfamiliar face. The boy stared up at him. “Dad?” The kid launched himself towards him and hugged his thighs. “You’re back!”
Bruce gently extracted the kid from his legs and bent down to take a closer look at him. The boy’s forehead creased, his lips pouting and seemingly on the verge of tears. “You’re not my dad.”
“I don’t think so, kid,” said Bruce. “What’s your name?”
“This is Jon,” said Damian, locking arms with the boy.
“Jon,” Bruce repeated blankly.
“Jon recently lost his dad. We told him that’s okay, not everyone has parents, so he can come and live with us!” Dick said.
Bruce could feel an impending headache coming on. “Dick, you can’t just-” Bruce wanted to refute Dick’s words, but his brain was doing somersaults at the moment, so he gave up. “I’m sorry to hear that,” Bruce said instead to Jon. “How did you lose him?”
“My dad got hit by a green rock by a robot and fell off the mountain. I flew over it a few times, but I couldn’t find him! So I went to the fair to see if he was there,” said Jon.
Flew over the mountain? Green rock? There was only one person that Bruce could think of who could fly and had a weakness towards green rocks. “Is your dad Superman?” said Bruce, knowing and dreading the answer.
“Yeah!” Great, the one superhero whom Bruce had managed to avoid dealing with so far, who had suddenly gone missing since Sunday and was apparently passed out somewhere at the foot of a mountain. And whose kid his own children had kidnapped. Bruce’s day just kept getting better and better.
Superbat Family Fics
2K notes · View notes
therandomfandomme · 2 months
Text
I know it's not really canon bc Alfred is seemingly ageless, but I like the idea that he was like 30-ish when Bruce was orphaned. Like Martha Wayne was like 20 when she had Bruce and 28 when she died with Thomas being 23 at Bruce's birth and 31 at the time of the shooting, while the butler they hired was around their age too (Alfred x Martha x Thomas rights), but Bruce never realized bc Alfred goes gray early and is, again, ageless. So, he is like panicking at 21 having acquired a nine year old and he's like 34 when Damian comes in his life and by the time the batfam has settled he's nearly forty and he asks Alfred how the fuck he kept up with him before he calmed down a bit as a teen bc he had a purpose and then fucked off to go train and Alfred just goes "I was ten years younger than you're now, sir, I also don't know how you do it. Have you looked into the Batman retirement plans more?" and it's only then that Bruce learns Alfred also had not fucking clue what he was doing and was pretty young (though way more reasonable than Bruce with Dick's adoption) to have a whole ass child as a responsiblity. Just the idea that they're closer in age tickles me
1K notes · View notes
sicc-nasti · 11 months
Photo
Tumblr media
On this episode of: It’s always Sunny in Tuefort
The Mercs Make Scout A Dating Profile
Its going as one might expect
3K notes · View notes
r0b0t1me · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
glowingsand · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Every day she wakes up to slander him
13K notes · View notes
Text
"I've Got This!"
The Batkids are often heard uttering this phrase. Bruce has made a chart that explains how much confidence you can have in the speaker
Dick: He's lying
Jason: He's lying
Tim: He's lying
Damian: He's lying
Duke: He's lying
Cass: She's lying
Steph: She's lying
Barbara: The only one you can trust
3K notes · View notes
zathechaosgod · 1 year
Text
i dont like youtooz and wont be buying one but. yeah this one is Hilarious
Tumblr media
7K notes · View notes
l3viat8an · 6 months
Text
Solomon: *T-posing in the kitchen doorway at the demon lords castle* Greetings, Barbatos!
Barbatos:*Not looking up from his morning tea* Good morning, problem child.
1K notes · View notes