#red’s musings

[reducal]

You know what would hit even harder in the feels than an onscreen kiss between Shaun and Katy ? An intimate touching of foreheads on the same level as that hug.

My little shipper heart would burst explode into flames.

[fashion4standusers]

Lil Nas X in custom Coach tour outfits

[river-bottom-nightmare]

idk but to me something so quintessential about timothy drake is that he is your average american teenage boy and as your average teenage american boy he is viscerally and desperately terrified of loneliness. the way he latched on to every single aspect of dick's life in an attempt to be close to someone who showed him kindness as a child, the way he'll lower his distinctly bruce-wayne-shaped walls to let in young justice because once his friends know him they won't leave him, hell the way he somehow keeps up his friendship with ives despite all the times he's dropped off the radar. something about this child is such an achingly yearning beast which adores company that he rips through typical fantastical comic book angst and falls straight back into the behavior of My New Neighbor The Average American Teenage Boy in a way i don't think i consciously realized until recently

[fic-over-cannon]

Give me a Jason Todd that never fully left the grave. Where he used to run hot, he now runs cold. Not just in a “my body temperature is perpetually a few degrees colder than human” way, but in a “I never fully feel warm” kind of way. The leather jacket isn’t just a fashion statement, it’s to keep the chill out of his bones on Gotham rooftops (it doesn’t work but it’s better than nothing). The gloves aren’t just a forensic countermeasure. They’re there to keep his fingers from going stiff from cold even on warm summer nights. Under his steel toed boots, his socks are made of thick wool so his toes stay warm enough to keep sensation in them.

Give me a Jason Todd that sometimes feels the phantom sensation of wet dirt on his skin. No matter how hard he scrubs the feeling won’t go away. Who can’t wear specific fabrics because they remind him of the silk lining of his coffin. Who sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night and has to turn a light on, the darkness a touch too close to the blackness of the coffin. Who has to sleep with some kind of blade, not because of his training, but because it could be used to lever open a coffin lid.

Give me a Jason Todd that can’t remember what it was like to be buried alive but knows exactly what it feels like. He’s left the grave but it’s never left him.

[liziocit]

Imagine if there's a fanclub for Wei Wuxian and the junior quartet and all the young disciples are part of it. Like every second friday of the month, they congregate to the Jin Sect and discus Wei Wuxian.

Jin Ling always ends up bragging about Wei Wuxian being his martial uncle, while Lan Jingyi interjects with a slight smile and says he's my shifu's husband.

Lan Sizhui interrupts and says very politely with a smile, "He's my dad, so..."

"He's my husband,"

Pin drop silence ensues when Lan Wangji, who followed them because he was curious why his lan disciples left for LanLing every month said this.

They all rush to explain themselves but Lan Wangji just waves a hand and tells them they're all good as long as he gets to join and he gets the first pick on merchandise.

And so every second Friday, the lan juniors go to Lanling with their Hangguang-jun beside them. Nie Huaisang is also in these meetings somehow, they don't know how he entered but he makes the merchandise.

So they don't question it.

[mazemeadow]

abigail // mary magdalene by jan boeckhorst

[lionofchaeronea]

The god Dionysos, holding a kantharos (two-handled drinking cup) in his right hand and a grapevine in his left. Side A of an Attic red-figure amphora attributed to the Berlin Painter and dated between 490 and 480 BCE. Found at Vulci; now in the Louvre.

[immortal-dreamer]

how the fuck do you make a free web series that's been available for free for the past 20 years on youtube and now it's suddenly paywalled

and it's not even available to pirate because it's been free for so long im actually going to fucking break something

[ghost-bxrd]

Just saw artwork of Jason doing the heads in a duffle bag thing and—-

I’m sorry but there’s just something so visceral and horrifying about a teenager sawing heads off people in a display for power.

Were they bad people? Yes. Did they deserve it? Probably. Did it send a message? Absolutely. Is it still horrifying? Heck yeah.

Just—- knowing Jason and his background, it’s just so heartrendingly tragic. I don’t even think he liked doing it, I’m just imagining him having to throw up afterwards before putting his helmet back on and playing tough crime lord again. The amount of self loathing he must feel whenever he thinks too hard about his actions. Falling asleep and seeing that—

Just— emotional repercussions, man. They’re real…

[pinkiemme]

Oh, fuck

POV: he’s drawing you

[simandy]

I'm sorry are the Goths a joke to you

[b4kuch1n]

simulated earth (it does not matter)

transcript

[fashion4standusers]

Travis Cannata for Thierry Mugler, Spring 2012

[godlyrots]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓.

PAIRING — jason todd x spade!reader.

SYNOPSIS — you can't stay mad at him.

WORD COUNT — 1126.

WARNINGS + CONTENT — pre-established relationship, previous fwb relationship. oral, fem receiving. marking. might be ooc. use of petnames. making out + messy kissing if you squint? got kind of poetic in some places for whatever reason, i'm just vv sleepy. not proof read at all lmao so if you see mistakes ignore them.

AUTHOR'S NOTE — introducing spade!reader. originally called them ace but then realized it was kind of convoluted. but all versions of reader will be named after a suit in a card deck from here on out.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

"you smell nice." you're whispering into his ear and your voice is rough from hours of rehearsal with your band and jason's hands are nestled on your thighs. he kneads at the pliant flesh, his calluses providing a contrast to the smooth skin in his palms. he lets out a soft hum once your teeth find the spot you know he likes.

he's got that familiar cologne on, filled with woody elements and that beautifully rich, musky scent. it was a gift from you for his birthday last year and he wore it until the bottle was empty and sat on a shelf in his closet and he bought a new one. it wasn't the first time you've been like this, this was your way of apologizing and you knew how to be physically affectionate even if you can't verbalize it. he slightly cranes his neck once your lips work to leave hickies on his skin, the old ones were fading into a light pink hue. you stopped once his phone lit up though and jason's hand reaches for it absentmindedly on the couch beside him.

he types out a response to who you imagine to be one of his friends but he quickly places in back down and focuses on you and his eyes rake over your pouty lips with your lip gloss and lipstick all over him. you can't help but try to remove your berry coloured products off his skin. his thumb works on your bottom lip and wipes off the remaining product. "still mad?" he asks with a low voice, in a tiny mini-skirt you're all the more attractive to him. you fight the warmth that fills your belly as wetness dribbles onto your underwear.

jason secretly loves when you fight despite the fact that he thinks some of your arguments are pointless, but seeing you riled up and angry in your little skirts or a mixture his baggy shirts and shorts or just underwear. he knows that he fucked up, you guys don't keep secrets but by the end of your fights he knows that you'll end up laying on your back with his head between your thighs or you on your knees with his cock in your mouth. either way you didn't complain because you're sure that you loved watching him as much as he loved watching you.

"little bit." you're telling him as he looks at you with that same hardened expression despite him understanding that he did hurt you. his justification didn't really matter, not right now. "i hate lying, you shouldn'a done it." you add on to the few words you'd said and your voice was still hoarse.

"m'sorry, doll"

"m'sorry too, just don't hide things from me."

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

you have a fistful of jason's hair in your hands as his tongue laps at your wetness and sucks on your clit like it's the only thing on his mind. the noises from both of you are borderline obscene as he keeps a steady hand on your thigh and your whines are increasing in volume, even with the music to cover up the noise. he's pulling you into him as you squirm and bite back the moans that are climbing up your throat and past your lips. "christ, jay—" you're whimpering now and it almost feels pathetic but your body is one fire, the warmth of his skin of you feels illicit and jason doesn't come up for air.

he pumps his cock with his free-hand in his pants as he listens to you and with the added pent up frustrations of you not speaking for several days and your earlier escapades has got his head spinning. he can't get over listening to you, seeing you, feeling you. it's like he's this fiend and no matter what he does he'll never rid himself of this vice, this addiction and this longing. you don't hear what he says between your thighs as it's muffled by your plush skin but you know it's something absolutely disgusting.

"y'feel too good, baby."

he can't help but moan as he continues to both eat you out and fuck his fist and he can't get enough. jason's almost dedicated to getting you off, each touch is an apology, it might as well be an act of worship 'cause this is the closest he's ever felt to god. i'm sorry, m'sorry, i'm sorry. with each lick, rut of your lips or collection of each drop of your delicious arousal.

you instinctively raise your hips once he works your clit particularly well but he pushes you back down before you can blink properly. jason knows that you're close, he can feel how you clench around his tongue as he works on your puffy cunt, he's a man with a cause, a mission. you were already horny when you decided to mark him up, leave little reminders of you but god, he's so everything.

"right there. s'perfect jay." you tell him, voice filled with lust and genuine adoration. you feel your orgasm creep up on you and he harshly sucks on your little clit and doesn't stop until you're squirming and trying to squeeze your legs together as a way to self-soothe and have the ache subside but it was no use. he doesn't stop until your cum is coating the bottom half of his face and jason's head moves up from between your legs with low eyes that don't peer away from your pussy. it takes a lot in him, everything he has, even to stop himself from eating you out until you're writhing underneath him but you seem pretty spent.

your chest is heaving and you've got these haphazard breaths that stall every few seconds and your skin is warm, covered in a mixture of sweat and your shea butter lotion that's permanently stuck in jason's mind. you kiss him so feverishly that you can taste yourself on his tongue once it enters your mouth and you're moaning into it. he pulls away though, too quickly you think, with swollen, puffy lips and those dazed eyes like he just got some of the best head of his life.

"forgive me?"

you nod once your breathing calms down and your eyes catch the lipstick and hickies all over his neck that scream you're mine.

"guessin' that means you want your dick sucked?"

there's a slight beat of silence before he agrees with you. "fuckin' blue-balled myself f'you. it's only fair."

you roll your eyes before moving from the couch to the carpeted floors infrontt of you and you're on your knees. jason's hand pulls down his pants until they're down to his ankles and he's holdin' up your cute little boho braids up with his hand.

"whatever."

[fic-over-cannon]

I always think love takes Jason Todd by surprise. He doesn’t go searching for love, but it sneaks up on him, slips into his life when he’s not looking. It’s so unexpected in the ways it arrives but he always, always makes room for it when it does.

Embracing love and all its possibilities is not without its own difficulties. He worries love is like a searchlight, going room to room in the walls of his heart and the chambers of his mind, illuminating all of the peeling paint and broken glass. That fear makes him shy away instinctively. It takes conscious will and steeled nerves to let himself be known, to be loved, but he does it willingly. Like a moth to a flame, the risk doesn’t deter him from coming back again and again, to get a little bit closer to that source of light.

Love shifts Jason’s outlook. Love doesn’t consume him, doesn’t take him over and possess him completely, but it grounds him. Anchors him to a present safe from the dangers of his past. The welcomed glow of the lighthouse lamp to a ship on storm tossed seas. Love brings Jason back to life in ways he didn’t even realize had withered. It’s not the cold glow of the searchlight, honing in on the evidence of crimes long past, but the warm glow of candle light smoothing over edges and lighting up dusty crevices.

Love steals its way into his heart accidentally, but every loving act Jason commits is done with intention.

[forged-in-kaoss]

🦋Fights and battles have begun Revenge will surely come Your hard times are ahead 🌀