#the red stack

[y0-yo-yo]

DCxDP: dead tired/brain dead short idea:

Tim: dad, everyone, I want you to meet Danny my boyfriend

Danny: hi sir! Nice to meet you! I promise to treat your son really good and rip apart anything or anyone ever trying to harm him before obliterating them,their family and everything they know and love *flash the biggest brightest smile with too many sharp teeth*

Bruce:....

The bat kids in the room:...

Duke: *turning to Tim putting a firm hand on his shoulder* never break up with him.

Duke: seriously. Never.

[waveoftheocean]

bruce "i can carry it all in one go" wayne, everyone 👏 (sneak peek at some new merch i've been working on!!)

[hinamie]

realizing how much i like drawing him a million years too late :<

[gweelczz]

“Roots and Remedies”

Elias “Stack” Moore x Honey (OC)

Genre: Fluff with slight violence

Summary: Somebody tries Stack’s woman and Stack ain’t fucking with it

The sun was low and hot, spitting fire across the cracked concrete outside Roots & Remedies. Honey was standin’ on a stepstool inside, fixin’ a jar of bay leaves onto a shelf when she heard the ruckus — a voice, loud and ugly, barkin’ out over the quiet hum of the evening.

“Witchcraft! Devil’s work!” the man hollered, spittin’ onto the sidewalk like the ground itself owed him somethin’.

Honey set the jar down slow, wiped her hands on her skirt, and stepped outside. The man was a wiry little thing, face already turnin’ beet red, sweatin’ through his cheap button-up.

Her deep cognac eyes narrowed. “Ain’t nobody botherin’ you, sir,” she said, voice smooth but firm, her thick 4c coils tucked away in a pretty deep-purple headwrap that caught the light. “You best go on ’bout your business.”

“Business?” the man barked, takin’ a step toward her. “This ain’t business, it’s blasphemy! You sellin’ evil! Cursin’ folks!” He jabbed a finger toward the sign painted on the window — Herbs, Remedies, Roots.

A few folks lingered at the curb, watchin’.

Honey didn’t flinch. “Ain’t no curses here,” she said coolly. “Just folks tryna heal a little. You don’t like it, you can move along.”

The man puffed up, lookin’ like a rooster about to pop a vein. “You better shut this place down ’fore somebody shuts it down for you!”

Before Honey could open her mouth again, she heard it — that low, heavy scrape of boots on pavement. She didn’t even need to turn around.

Stack.

He moved like a storm rollin’ in — tall, broad, dressed in a suit with a red tie and hat accompanied by a cigar. Smoke flanked him dressed in a tweed suit with blue, cigarette in hand that Stack had rolled for him, cut from the same rough cloth.

Stack stopped right between her and the fool, thumb hooked lazy in his belt loop, a dangerous gleam in his eye.

“You heard the lady,” Stack said, voice a slow southern drawl, gritty like gravel. “Get the hell on.”

The man sneered, takin’ in Stack and then Smoke, eyes bouncin’ back and forth.

“Y’all supposed to be twins?” he asked, snickering like he thought he was clever.

Stack smirked his voice low and laced humor. He tilts his head down a bit, grills showing, “Nah we cousins.”

The fool laughed — a nervous, ugly sound — and shoved Stack right in the chest.

That was it.

Stack’s fist cracked into his jaw before the man could even blink, knockin’ him flat on his back. He let out a pitiful grunt, lyin’ there, stunned.

Smoke stepped up, starin’ down at him, his gold tooth flashin’ when he gave a cold, sharp laugh. “Told you, you dumbass.”

Honey watched it all with her arms crossed, lips pursed, but there was a little curl of pride under it too.

Stack turned back to her, brown eyes softer now when he looked at her. He reached out, thumb brushing lightly over her jawline.

“You alright, baby girl?��� he drawled, low and rough like molasses.

“I’m good, sugar,” she said, voice just as slow, just as thick. Her hand slipped up to lightly squeeze his wrist — strong, calloused, warm.

He dipped his head a little, like he might kiss her right there if there weren’t still folks watchin’. Instead, he tucked her close under his arm, leadin’ her back toward the shop.

Smoke lingered just long enough to nudge the groanin’ man with the toe of his boot, makin’ sure he stayed down.

The door to Roots & Remedies swung shut behind them, the bell jinglin’ soft-like. Outside, the street buzzed with whispers and side-eyes, but inside, it was just them — the sharp scent of dried herbs, the creak of old wood under their boots, and the feelin’ that, no matter what foolishness tried to stir up outside, this was Honey’s ground.

And Stack?

He’d fight the devil himself before he let anybody take it from her.

⸻

Inside Roots & Remedies, the air was heavy with the scent of cedar and lavender, the last light of the sun stretchin’ long across the wooden floors.

Stack let the door fall shut behind him, the little bell jinglin’ once, then nothin’ but the sound of their boots against the worn floorboards.

Honey pulled away just enough to turn and look at him — her thick lashes low, cognac eyes glintin’ warm but wary. She untied her headwrap slow, lettin’ some of her thick black coils tumble free down her back, a habit she always did when she needed to breathe deep.

“You ain’t had to do all that, Stack,” she said soft, but the way she was lookin’ at him said she wasn’t mad about it neither.

Stack shrugged like it was nothin’, shoulders rollin’ slow under his tank, tattoos catchin’ the low light.

“You know I ain’t gon’ let no man talk crazy to you,” he said, voice thick, drawlin’ rough around the edges. “Ain’t gon’ happen, not while I’m breathin’.”

Honey leaned her hip against the counter, arms crossed, watchin’ him like she was tryin’ to see right down into his soul.

“You always been hardheaded like that,” she teased, but there was a tremble in her voice. One she couldn’t hide.

Stack stepped closer, boots heavy on the old wood, until there weren’t no space left between ‘em. His hands found her waist easy, rough palms slidin’ over the soft curve of her sides, holdin’ her like he was afraid she’d slip away.

He dipped his head low, forehead nearly brushin’ hers. His breath was hot against her lips.

“I gotta ride out soon,” he muttered, voice grittier than gravel. “Handle somethin’.”

Honey’s heart kicked up hard. She knew Stack’s somethin’ was never clean. Never easy.

Her fingers twisted in the hem of his shirt, holdin’ on tight. “Stack, don’t you—”

“I ain’t makin’ no promises I can’t keep,” he cut in, his thumb strokin’ slow over her hip. “But I’m tellin’ you right now… when I get back?” He pulled her closer, voice low like a prayer.

“I’m puttin’ a ring on that pretty lil’ finger. You gon’ be mine, Honey. Whole town gonna know it.”

Honey blinked up at him, heart slammin’ against her ribs, tears burnin’ the backs of her eyes — but she didn’t let ’em fall. Not yet.

“You betta come back to me,” she whispered, voice breakin’ just a little.

Stack gave her a half-smile, all sharp teeth and reckless heart. He kissed her forehead slow — a kiss that felt like it was settin’ a mark only she could see.

But before he could step away, Honey caught his hand, holdin’ him still.

“Wait,” she said, voice steady now.

She moved behind the counter quick, grabbin’ a small velvet pouch and two tiny bottles filled with oil. She handed one pouch and one bottle to Stack, the other set into Smoke’s calloused hand.

“Keep these on you,” Honey said, voice low, almost sacred. “I blessed ‘em myself. For protection. For strength. For comin’ home.”

Stack looked down at the little pouch in his hand, then back up at her — somethin’ hot and tender flashin’ in his eyes that he didn’t dare speak on.

Honey stepped even closer, pressin’ her palm flat against Stack’s chest, right over his heart. She closed her eyes and whispered a prayer, her voice thick with old words passed down from her grandmama and the women before her — words stitched with faith, strength, and stubborn hope.

When she finished, she pressed one last kiss to his knuckles, the ones already bruisin’ from the earlier fight.

Then she let him go.

Stack headed for the door without lookin’ back, pushin’ it open so hard the bell above it jangled wild, like it knew somethin’ was comin’.

Honey stood there, chest tight, clutchin’ the edge of the counter, watchin’ him disappear into the blood-red dusk — feelin’ in her bones that whatever Stack was walkin’ into, it might not let him come back easy.

If he came back at all.

Next chapter

[secretslutadventures]

How's the view?

[superbat-lmao]

A “buddy” vigilante story where Jason and Tim go back in time during Dick’s time as Robin, when the Worlds Greatest Detective was still young.

Basically, they significantly change the past and in the most annoying way possible. Tim knows that no one will know it was them and has been pretty morally flexible about the whole thing. They go down the list of rogues, down the list of siblings, bickering about it the whole time.

Jason kills the Joker, Tim rescues Cass, and both of them try and get one over on the other about their past selves.

Because Tim tries to talk baby Jason into stealing the Bat’s tires early while Jason’s out murdering Zucco, and Jason’s out snatching Tiny Tim and his camera from rooftops trying to leave him gift wrapped in the batcave while Tim’s out stealing info from Luthor.

It’s one giant clusterfuck but they’re successful because Tim and Jason combined are absolutely lethal and no one ever saw them coming.

Meanwhile, they keep running into Robin and absolutely losing it over seeing their oldest brother so young and angry.

Dick tries to track them down after they killed Zucco, he wants to ask why. What the hell they could possibly be doing or why that would matter to them.

Tim pushes Jason off a roof.Jason lights Tim’s ancient computer on fire. Tim tears a book in half. Jason takes pictures of Tiny Tim and sets them as his wallpaper. It’s a comedy, your honor.

And probably the worst headache Batman will ever get.

[casscainturnedmegay]

I know he’s just lying to protect his secret identity but I’m sobbing over the idea of Jack Drake being the Tony Hawk of philanthropists in Gotham

[shrewdbunny-art]

Is this even anything?

Prev. /// pt.3

Masterpost

[astra-terrapin]

I bring forth the Traffic Light Siblings!

[yrsonpurpose]

Hey, have I told you lately that you're brave?

[vampirefunkmetal]

hm. something about how smoke and stack are colour coded blue/red respectively to the point that it carries over to their respective love interests (annie in shades of blue and mary in shades of pink). something about how stack is shirtless when he dies (not wearing red) and smoke's clothes become increasingly bloodstained. something about vampire!stack putting on his waistcoat but not his shirt, he's not wearing red because he's not stack any more, not really, he's become something else. something about smoke taking off his blue shirt after stack joins the vampires outside. something about smoke's vest getting increasingly more yellowed by dirt the more overtly protective he is of sammie during the climax (and which colour is sammie associated with?....)

[the-way-we-were]

Photography by Dorota Górecka

All…red…

[gweelczz]

Y’all I wanna write Smoke and Stack giving Bo Chow grillz to match theirs since he’s like a brother to them

Also wanna do the grillz driving Rosetta crazy…

he possibly eats her with them on… might get some chain dangling action…

Rosetta allegedly likes riding him while he smokes…

Pearline x black!fem!IOC is almost finished!!

Yall also getting Pearline x reader x Sammie, Annie x black!fem!reader (I need her y’all) AND Stack x Louis De Pointe Du Lac (PLATONIC!!)

UPDATE: idea one, two, four, five, six anddd eight are done!!!

[lyxchen]

Genuienly I can't get behind all the Squid Game promotion stuff Netflix does. It's kinda gross to me. All the Squid Game events in different cities where you get to play the games and people go around taking pictures with the pink guards and idk posing sexually or calling them 'daddy' and don't even get me started on Squid Game The Challenge. Like no hate to the people taking part in this, they're just having fun but I just don't think this is cool. I don't think seeing kids costumes of players and pink guards is cool. I don't think recreating a show in real live and taking out the bad parts, the parts that are there to send a message is cool and fun. I know a lot of shows have serious themes and I'm not against fandom for Squid Game at all and I also think having fun with the show in fandom without always bringing up its serious messages is totally okay (I do that too) and I also think that Netflix can of course promote a very popular show. But I think once it gets to a point where Netflix makes it silly and cutesy is when it has to stop. Netflix going around different citys and putting up the Red Light, Green Light doll and having random people on the street play the game is just... For what? For promotion? For money?? Of course it's for money but I think it's kind of so gross. Nothing else is irl promoted as much as Squid Game is. I don't see nearly as many events for Bridgerton or Stranger Things. But Netflix RECREATED this show about Horrible Things happening to people, who don't know how to help themselves anymore stuck in a system that is actively working Against them, with real live people stuck in similar situations. For Entertainment. And you know who gets the most money out of it?? Netflix!! A show about poor people taking huge risks to get a better and livable life and in the end Netflix is still the one making all of this money off of it. And they're squeezing every last bit they can out of this show. And it's so disgusting to me. Again I'm not blaming people who take part in this, who go to those events. I just think Netflix shouldn't be making these events in the first place

[hijinxinprogress]

Whenever the JL starts complaining about YJs public image YJ just straight up gaslights them

[spittinwatches]

Fav character thing