Gordon Is Still Unsure About These Vigilantes

constantly switching between “this is MY tumblr and i post whatever i want” and “oghg  god . oh my god. okh god. okay. im going to talk abt. an interest now. im so sorry.”

"college is the best years of your life" "college is for meeting new people and expanding your mind" wrong. college is for discovering new types of grief. also the timeloop

Imagine me popping bubble wrap inside your brain bp bp bp bp bp 

to be fair to Cain if nobody had ever died before and I didn't know it was possible I would probably also hit my brother over the head with a rock if he was being really annoying

when I was younger I didn’t understand why “may you live in interesting times” was considered a curse in ancient greece.

I get it now.

I really can’t stop redrawing Peanuts strips as batblob

this took all of 20mins on my phone and I know it’s gonna outperform the actual coloured and shaded drawing I spent hours on

but to be fair, little Robin-as-Woodstock may be the pinnacle of my career

Based on:

Okay but realistically imagine what Bruce would do when Jason came back.

Chasing this knee criminal who keeps referencing his dead son. Pushing his buttons. How dare he presume to know anything about Jason. The lost light of his life, his baby boy. He can feel that darkness creeping around the edges of his mind. That pit of anger and murderous rage he is scared he will never pull himself out of.

Hearing that robotic voice taunting him about failing Jason, failing to avenge him. He tried, god he tried. He was so close he had the knife against the jokers throat. And then he was being pulled away. Clark stopped him. Told him that he wasn’t acting like himself.

God he loves Clark but he can still feel that small pit of resentment fester whenever he thinks about bleeding that clown.

How dare he say he never loved Jason. He would have given everything to have him back for even a moment. His wealth, his status, Batman, his soul, Gotham itself. There were only three things he would never trade away. His sons. His precious boys. He would destroy himself without a second thought for their happiness. If there was anything he could give, any price he could pay to just see his baby one more time he would do it happily.

Then they are alone. He’s cornered the Red Hood. An abandoned warehouse, a bomb. He should tear him apart where he stands. He dares to make a mockery of his greatest failure? How he failed Jason. His son. His baby. His world. He will make him suffer.

Then the helmet comes off. A young man. Gentle black curls with a shock of white running through them. A domino mask over his face. It can’t be. And the mask comes away. And Bruce sees them. Those beautiful blue eyes that have haunted every sleepless night. Filled with hatred. Swimming with green fury.

But none of it matters. All the anger in Bruce is gone. He tears of the cowl, he has to see, has to see his baby’s face. Jason has a gun leveled at him, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters because Jason is here. He is alive in front of Bruce. Every wish, every regret is washed away in that moment.

Bruce falls to his knees, it’s too much, more than a wretched creature like him deserves. Jason is stunned. His hand shakes slightly. He moves forward, places the gun against Bruce’s temple and still there is no fear, just wonder and adoration in Bruce’s eyes.

“Is it you Jaylad? Please this has to be a dream, please let this be real.” Jason is shocked he expected anger, disappointment, bargaining, but all there is is a father, a broken man looking upon his life’s purpose renewed before his eyes. Bruce reaches up, slowly, reverently, like at any moment Jason will disappear, he takes Jason free hand and holds it against his cheek and then Bruce’s weeps. Not silent tears or stoic crying. He weeps, snotty and red, hiccuping sobs wracking his body. He can only repeat Jason’s name like a prayer.

Jason doesn’t even realize he has dropped the gun. His Dad is caressing his hand, wailing and babbling apologies and platitudes. Jason feels himself sink to his knees. Tears spilling from his own eyes. His Dad still loves him, never stopped, he doesn’t even care that Jason had only a week ago filled a duffel bag with human heads. He is holding onto Jason like he is sacred and he can feel the anger breaking under the desire to be engulfed by his father.

In that moment they both know that no matter what happens, they’ve come home and for the first time in a long time they both feel whole.

i will be the first to admit that my mom and i don’t always agree, but her opening the door to a republican state rep candidate (not like a canvasser, the man himself), not recognizing him and just reading his shirt encouraging people to vote for him, and just going “no” is a little slay

taking jason todd rights away from dc and putting them up on the shelf. you know what, bruce wayne rights too. you can have them back when you learn how to treat them kindly.