OH MY GOD IT ACTUALLY HAPPENED MITSUAYA HAVE FINALLY KISSED AFTER 116 CHAPTERS LETS GO LESBIANS LETS

Gothamite to their child: it was the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a—

The vroom vroom of the Batmobile on the street:

Gothamite: other then those motherfuckers

Cleaned up an old sketch.

Posting this because of whats going on in the political world rn

"IN THE FACE OF EXTERMINATION, SAY FUCK YOU!!"

silly... i wasn't talking about the fish.

old gay men... they deserve to watch tv together and go to bed at 8pm <33

pretentious moment incoming but why is everyone's idea of fashion so fucking boring these days. why the fuck did my manager just ask me "what's with the scarf". "what's with the scarf" fuck man do I need a reason to wear a faggy little scarf now? you could just say "nice scarf man". what's with your attitude

!!!!! crona and maka !!!!!

Since we all agree that people of the Alley of Crime adore Red Hood and believe in him, I think it is time to imagine Jason in a scene similar to the one from OG Spiderman, where his identity is accidentally outted in front of crowd of people, and they all are just choose to protect him and help him out.

So maybe Gotham is facing especially nasty trouble, and vigilantes are on the receiving end this time. So maybe Jason is thrown at the dirty Alley in his part of town, wounded, with helmet flying off, and there is just a crowd of people staring as bleeds out, astonished. And Jason thinks, oh, that's the end — he can go and shoot himself, honestly, because he just failed the man rule every vigilante have: never show your face, never reveal your identity.

But people are... helping him? His eyes are half-open, breath laboured and pained, but all he hears is gentle murmuring:

'God, he is just a kid...'

'He must be younger than my son.'

'Poor child...'

He feels soft elderly hand against his cheek as someone from the crowd, an ex nurse, comes closer to bandage his injuries, while a kid, barely with the size of his helmet, brings it back, sticking out their tongue as they try to place it back on his head, to hide his face.

'It is okay,' the old woman reassures him. 'You are safe with us, son. We hadn't seen anything.'

Jason's eyes sting, because, oh.

It is his people. He loves them. He will die for them.

And they love him just as much.

He still waits for someone to out him, though. But the week ends, the villain is out of the picture, and no one says a thing. The only proof that it ever happened is civilians, who keep waving at Jason — not Red Hood, just Jason — when their paths cross somewhere in the shops or streets.

And that's how he knows that it is them; it is them, and they keep him safe as much as he keeps safe them.

good anhane evening

And you’re asking why I picked her over that stupid town? Anything for her.