#experimenting with posting times here on the ole tumble…

[coffee-in-veins]

@hungryhannya since you wanted to see my take on cross-dressing Dismas, i gathered the written bits i had and will post them under keep reading.

yep, it's the same Dis as RRR one, so those are from his backstory :}

no, unfortunately i dunno how to incorporate those into RRR proper as of now :{

viewer discretion is advised! some snippets mention sexual predators, dubious attitude to women, and dubious attitude to men in dresses

===

"Have you ever worn a dress?"

Dismas barked a laughter:

"Bitch, I can rock two-inch heels on cobblestone!" he snickered again. "Comes with bein' a conman. n' havin' good balance, I s'ppose. So lemme tell ya from experience that lace is itchy as fuck."

He laughed again, shaking his head. Ah, to be young again!

"Let's just say, the number o' times I had t' dress as some nun t' get outa hot water is definitely higher than one. So yeah, I wore a dress. A wedding gown once, e'en. Was drunk as piss at that time, tho, we had a huge haul. Robbed some convoy that was bringing wedding gifts for some rich fuck. That night things were wild in the camp."

Ah, he did remember the wedding gown, though. He was scrawnier of them all, shorter. And though his anger, ruthlessness, and being unhinged started to stir others away from playing tricks on him, Dismas still wasn't on the level of fear and respect he was aiming for to be left completely alone and in peace.

So he ended up in the wedding gown, white as milk, sewn with some glass beads and river pearls, and collectively shoved by the rowdier of other brigands into the boss' tent despite fierce resistance - just to be mocked, since he apparently wasn't spending all his time to hone the skill with dirk and a gun, but was simply "arrogant squirt".

Surprising exactly no one, the older man was amused by that. Boss stared him down, a condescending grin on his face, so Dismas did what he always did: he went on the offense. Straightening up instead of trying to cover that ridiculous dress, hand on hip, the challenge in the eyes.

He remembered drawling "like what ye see, ol' man?".

Surprisingly, the head of the brigand actually did. Or maybe he was impressed by the shameless display. Or maybe both.

But that was one weird promotion to get.

===

"What's a dumb but hilarious thing that happened to you?"

Dismas laughed and shook his head.

"Do ye wanna list or somethin'? My whole life is dumb but hilarious!" he snickered, swiveling the booze in his mug. "But fine, there was this one story, see. I like t' think 'bout it sometimes."

He leaned his cheek on his fist and grinned.

"See, I had t' dress as a nun t' get away with my hide intact in one town. n' i can be quite convincing in my walk and poise. So here I am, with my stubble-covered mug hiding under the cowl, head low, mumbling somethin' prayer-passing to get through some alley or another, n' this guy jumps me. Well he thinks he jumps me, but I can't just shoot the cretin since 'tis rare for vestals to carry flintlocks, aye? Well, he pushes me to the wall n' starts the usual dronin' 'bout wantin' to live n' pulling up my skirt if I did."

The highwayman's grin became even wider.

"Well, I was in a foul mood, n' thought why the hell not? The guy seemed so eager. Could've been a fun tumble, right? So I undo m' pants mumbling that I'm just unclaspin' chastity belt, n' give m'self a few good jerks - one has to look presentable while showing off his, he, dagger, right? n' this moron just stands and is positively drooling there, like a dog that's near a bitch in heat. I can't e'en blame the guy, I was using my spare shirt as padding in place of tits, those must've looked like quite the peaches to grab."

Dismas gestured on his chest, showing quite impressive imaginary brests, especially considering his height and physique.

"If only ya 've seen his face when I yanked the skirt up!" the highwayman shook with laughter. "He e'en dropped the knife, the cretin! n' I just stand there, cocking an eyebrow at him. So when he failed t' do anything, I offered to measure who has the longer one and who ends up winning bends the other guy. God's tits, he was running and yellin' about demons before I e'en finished speaking."

Dismas coughed up another bark of laughter and took a swing from his glass.

" 'ere's a life lesson in this, I s'ppose. If e'erything is going too well n' you think ye got yerself a busty vestal to dick, take a moment t' look closer. Maybe 'tis an unshaved guy with a boner instead."

===

"Any more stories about wearing dresses?"

"Ya really love yer dresses, eh, pal?" Dismas chuckled, swiveling booze in his glass, and hummed, digging through the crypts of his mind. He then huffed a peal of laughter. "Aye, there was one! We needed t' infiltrate one o' them nobleman's villas. n' we had one fiery lass on our team, who e'eryone assumed would go in as a lady with me as her bodyguard, n' we'd get floor plans n' guard rotations."

The highwayman chuckled, remembering Firebird's face when he dragged the bag of all the lady shit and dumped it all over her tent's floor. The sourness, the resentment, the rage.

The hurt.

However, just as vividly he remembered how quickly those were washed away when she had heard his plan - and his questions.

The rogue took a swing and shrugged.

"I mean they weren't wrong, technically. Lady Dimass and her guard Hilde indeed infiltrated the villa n' did what needed t' be done." The scoundrel grinned, remembering Firebird's surprise when she saw him rocking the heels like it was nothing. "Wigs don't care if ye have a dick n' those fans are incredibly convenient t' hide stubble, just sayin'."

#restructured refractured recalled #dismas #cross dressing #The bloodied journal page || my writing

[docholligay]

Follow Water Down

I have been wandering around in the woods since I was a small child. My family was not particularly well off, and from the ages of probably 3 to 16, the only vacations we ever took were camping trips. We left the house for the woods nearly every weekend. I live in Montana, and so when I say camping trips, I don’t mean we headed off to the KOA with a pool, I mean if I walked away from the campsite I was in the goddamn National Forest. I was genuinely happy with this arrangement, as I was a strange child who grew up to be a strange adult, and I enjoyed the quiet, the sense of exploration, the smell of the trees. 

I began leaving the campsite nearly from the word go, and by the time I was about 8 or so, I was very much off by myself in the woods for the majority of the day, which leads us to our post today. There are people who would call my mom grossly neglectful for having allowed me to do so much on my own at such a young age, and even she gets bashful when she talks about it, but I credit it with a lot of positives: 

I have an extremely good sense of direction

I have a strong core of self-sufficiency and am not easily overwhelmed by anxiety

I can be alone in the quiet with my thoughts

I am rough and tumble as HELL, owing to many many many falls down the sides of mountains, huge gashes in my legs, being stalked by a mountain lion, and one very memorable miscalculation that ended in me falling off a (small) waterfall

When I meet my fear, I can master it*

So what I am here to present to you today are very basic survival skills such as I would teach my own child, such as I was taught as a child. This is by no means comprehensive, and if you intend to get seriously into outdoor life, I recommend both doing far more research, and taking a a Wilderness First Aid class, which are frequently offered when it’s NOT Covid, and which I take about once every 3-5 years (I am due). This is a primer for those who are young, or new, or mostly want to experience the wilderness by reading about me doing it. 

Follow Water Down. 

I cannot remember how old I was when I learned this. It’s the sort of thing that is a part of my makeup, my mother must have told me when I was only a toddler and its stuck with me so hard that it’s one of the first things I tell people. 

If you are lost: 

Water will always lead you back to civilization eventually. Join up with the stream. See which way its going. Go that way. This is obviously not significantly helpful if you are lost in a flat desert plain but then again, I did start this by saying I was a child of the woods and not the desert. This seems like such an easy trick that people often ignore me when I say it, but it is the simplest thing for a child to remember. 

I can’t remember how old I was when I got lost in a tangle of hills and mountains in the Little Belts, where the trail faded but I kept going in my normal bullheaded way. But I was well and truly lost by the time it was about 3 pm, and in some ways I wish I had worn a step tracker back in those days because I am extremely certain I went miles and miles, as one does when they leave immediately after breakfast and don’t come back till dinner. I had no idea where I was, where the campsite was, or what direction I should be going. 

I was not thrilled. 

But I was not a kid who sat down and cried, in that I had smaller concerns before, and so could easily grow to meet the larger ones. I simply walked down the mountain, knowing a valley was more likely to have a stream I could easily join. Lo and behold, there in that little valley was a snowmelt creek, and I followed it downstream, knowing eventually there would be a house, or a campground, or something. In a twist of glorious good luck, it actually led me back toward where the campsite was, and as I began to recognize things, I easily clipped into our campsite long before any sign of trouble. 

Follow Water Down. If you aren’t near a stream, head for the nearest valley, and follow the valley. This will generally lead you to water. People will tell you to stay put and that is WAY smarter than wandering aimlessly in circles, which is why I say to follow something. You think you won’t go in circles, but you will. By following a streambed, not only are you doubtlessly heading back to civilization on a long enough timeline, but you keep yourself from doing that. 

Your Pack: 

Before you go out for the day, you should have a simple day pack. Mine is an Osprey Hikelite 18, but I hike all the time, and you don’t need something that technical. A plain ol Jansport will work as long as it fits you well. I do however, really approve of and recommend a waist clip. I also think a pocket for a water bottle on the outside is really useful, but you’re not going to fucking die if you have to take off your pack to get to your water bottle. I just find it takes up space I don’t want. 

Gear:

More important than your pack itself is what you have in it. Again, this is according to people named Doc, who are me. This is stuff I always take with me when I am by myself, on a trail where it would be realistic to assume I would not see someone else for hours. This is like 95% of Montana trails, or any time that I am off trail. 

Compass. You can get fancy, pretty compasses, but a lot of times they lack the actual essentials you need. I like this guy, which is well made, can be clipped to you backpack easily, and is inexpensive. I don’t have the time or space to really try to teach you how to use a compass, but here’s a really good simple primer from the American Hiking Society. 

Paper Map. I sometimes break this one, admittedly, but I shouldn’t. Having a paper map of the area is always a really smart practice, and used in combination with the compass, can help you get unlost quickly, or at the very least give you an idea of how close to any given outpost you are. 

Water Bottle. Please don’t tell me you were going to attempt to leave without this. I have no preferences on one, shockingly, and I’m being serious. I’ve been given to use an old disposable one, who gives a shit. 

Water Filter. Now THIS I did not have as a child, because my parents didn’t know any better, but if I follow in the grand tradition of my people and release my child into the mountains, I will give them one for certain. I knew what kind of water to look for if one was going to drink from a stream, and I did so, which probably explains why I am not susceptible to ~tummy upsets~ to this day. However, it would have been smarter for me to have one of these. I like LifeStraw but Sawyer makes a perfectly good one. Look for lightweight, it’s a day pack, kids. 

Knife. I have many many feelings about knives, which would require its own post, but this is fairly essential for being out and about. This is not a thing I would necessarily cheap out on, though there are fine options at most price points. This is my knife:

The Gerber Propel AO. The serrated and straight blade edge means there’s a lot of options for use as a tool, I find the blade to be strong and hold an edge well. Most American-made Gerbers (be sure and check, as they have a much shittier Chinese-made division) are incredibly well made knives. Leatherman multi-tools and Swiss Army Knives are, if you ask people named Doc who are me, a waste of weight and size, but if I were to buy a Leatherman, it would be a Free K2X. I would not buy a Swiss Army Knife. 

A jacket/fleece/pullover. Listen, i am the last one who wants to carry this shit but if you get lost overnight (as has never happened to me, kinehara.) you are going to want it. Read up on what the lowest temperatures are, and rate it to that. Depending on what mountain you are in, this is going to vary widely. And for the love of god, wear pants. I know, I know, it’s in the 70s and you’re hoooooooot but seriously, you’ll be less likely to injure yourself and you won’t fucking freeze. 

Flashlight/headlamp. 

There are fancy firestarters, but honestly I just throw in a bic. 

Food! Clif bars are great for this, lightweight, high calorie, keep well. this is in addition to your sandwich or whatever you’re packing for planned eating. 

Sunscreen/bug spray. Don’t be stupid. 

Whistle. Three sharp shot blasts is the easy and international sign for help. 

FIRST AID KIT this has its own thing. A first aid kit can be very basic to very intense. Our group first aid kit is more intense, but when I’m stuffing a day pack, I want stuff that’s light. 

Ibuprofen

Bandages

Gauze

Leukotape

wound wipes/antibac

Imodium, benedryl, caffeine

Oxycontin. This is leftover from long ago and basically exists in case I break my leg and have to drag myself out of there, or, as we like to say, a Worst Case Scenario. 

That’s it! It essentially fits in a bento box. 

You will want to be wearing a sunhat of some sort, sunglasses at hand, and a watch. Not a smart watch, a watch watch. It’s good to know what time it is, better to know that after your phone dies. Attach bear bells to your pack, or your shoe, or something. You do not want to surprise a bear, that is how people die. 

You may notice that I do not have a phone, external battery, GPS tracker or anything like that listed. GPS trackers are not a bad idea if you want to invest the money in backcountry--my wife has one--but I never have and I do not consider them essential. Phones and external batteries are not useful to me, and in the places I go there’s often not service. If there IS service, I find I’m more irritated than not by the people with me, who often can’t pull their faces out of telling their audience how much of a life they have to actually have one. Be alone with your fucking thoughts for once. 

Which leads me to my next thing: DO NOT WEAR HEADPHONES TO HIKE OH MY GOD. Being able to hear what’s going on around you is key to safety, and also to allowing you to get your bearings. If you are listening to music or something, you are far more likely to sneak up on something, or allow it to sneak up on you. Don’t do it. It’s a terrible idea. 

Should I bring bear spray? This is an excellent question! We have ample bear spray, and I often wear it but I just as often wear Montana Bear Spray (a gun). It’s easier to practice with a gun, I feel more sure of how to use it, and I’m comfortable around it. That being said, this is not the story for most of America, and I understand that. So make sure you are VERY familiar with how to use your bear spray. 

I suppose this went off the rails into supplies more than “tips for survival” but honestly I would rather help you all AVOID trouble than help you out of it. It’s easier to pack clif bars than set a rabbit snare, and its easier to not get lost than it is to build shelter. Also, this is already at 2,000 words, so if you have a SPECIFIC question, let me know! 

*Apologies to Phillip Pullman, but if I were going to get anything from HDM tattooed on me, this sentiment would be it, the only problem being the actual line is “You ent afraid are you?” “Not yet. When I am, I shall master the fear.” which doesn’t look as good but damn has that resonated with me since I read it.

#That was Oddly Specific #Holligay is 34: The celebration

[thorin-is-a-cuddler]

Hit the target - Steve’s Day

A/N: @anasticklefics​ Heyyo, Steve Rogers day in the best week of december. I can’t voice how intense my Avengers feels have been lately. Thank you so much for the opportunity to post some tickle fics here now. :) This is my contribution for the Steve Rogers day featuring Steve and Natasha. 

No one knew. Obviously. Steve didn’t want anyone to know. He wanted to act all tough and happy and cheerful. Was that a good enough reason not to tell anyone it was his mother’s day of death? Well, I mean... probably.

With a sigh he breathed in the cold November air and tried to swallow his sadness. It had threatened to overwhelm him multiple times that day and throughout the evening. He liked sitting around with the guys, drinking a beer and talking trash. Clint had just challenged Tony to an archery battle. He would do all of Tony’s shots blindfolded. This was about to become disastrous. But Steve hadn’t been in the mood to stay. He had excused himself and retreated to the cold night air, all alone with his sorrow and memories and-

“Missing the epic battle for this?” Natasha asked in her satin-soft voice, stepping into the light the moon was offering and smiling at her friend. There was something shy about her smile, as if she knew just what was bothering him and didn’t know how to handle it well. The following side glance made it even more obvious to Steve. He sighed and leaned against the balustrade of the balcony with his arms crossed.

“How do you know?”

The Black Widow scrunched her nose up in a self-aware way, feeling caught and not liking it one bit as a professional spy. “How do you know I know?”

“I just know.”

“Yeah. Well. ... So do I.” 

They stared at the ground, each of them for themselves, considering their next move. Steve was about to just retreat to his room, feeling in general horribly horrible about so many things he wanted to escape from, when Natasha put a gentle hand on his arm. He didn’t notice he had reflexively clenched his jaw in response until Natasha put her other hand on his cheek. His breath felt hot in his nostrils. His bottom lip started to tremble. No no no. This was exactly what he hadn’t wanted to happen. 

He tried to pull his head back, out of her reach, but she did something incredible to calm him down. She said “Shhhh.” and stroked two thumbs over his cheeks now. Somehow that combination hit Steve pretty hard. He bit down on his lip as his breath hitched in his throat and two big tears rolled all the way down to his chin. Natasha finally knew what she had to do when she felt and saw the shimmering tears on her friend’s skin. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him as tightly as she was capable of.

Steve put his huge hand on the low of her back, burried his nose in her shoulder. He hadn’t cried in so long. Now, he was practically trembling in the embrace of someone who cared, someone who missed out on the fun inside the house to be with him. That thought alone was so soothing. 

They remained in the hug even after Steve’s quiet sobs had died down. Silence wove them into the picture of the night, allowing them peace and moonlight and stars. 

Steve felt a headache roll down his temples to hack into his brain. He furrowed his brows, but relaxed a little when Natasha’s hands moved from the back of his neck to his head. Her fingers were balm for his pain. The gentle reassuring touch next to his eyes as she repeated a circular motion over and over made him think she could read his mind. How could she have known about the headache? Oh. OH. Steve slumped more into her hug when he realized that she was probably acting out of experience. 

“Is that better?” She whispered gently against his shoulder. 

He couldn’t find a word in his system, so he merely nodded. 

From inside the house cheering could be heard. Bruce, Thor and Tony were celebrating something rather loudly. Steve smiled. Either Tony had hit a target really well or Clint. Either way Clint would remain silent. 

“If Tony hit the target it was most likely not as impressive as he thinks it is.” Natasha mumbled and cuddled closer to the Supersoldier. Steve started to wonder who this hug was actually for. Smiling felt so much better now that he didn’t have to hide his sadness anymore. Not that he had had to do it. But ya know. Ya know. He kissed Natasha on the head and pretty much enveloped her in his enormous arms. 

“Natasha?”

“Hm?” All snark had left her voice. Steve swallowed. He hadn’t considered that maybe she was just as sad as he was until that moment. 

“Are you okay?” The Black Widow didn’t react. The tightness of the hug didn’t lessen. A no then. “Is there something I can do?”

Natasha’s nose rubbed against his chest when she moved slightly in his arms, as she lowered her arms to hug his middle now. “There is something.”

Steve hadn’t actually expected a reaction from her. He raised his eye-brows and stroked some hair out of her face. She was tiny in his arms. But that was deceiving. “What is it?”

“I want you to cheer when I hit my target.” Was he mishearing it or was the snark back in her voice?

“I don’t- what?” He tried to take a step back to get a better look at her face, but her arms were squeezed around him rather tightly. Too tightly he realized. He couldn’t get out of her embrace. “Natasha?” He asked with a gentle sigh now. It was adorable that she was holding on to him, even though he obviously wasn’t dumb enough to say that to her face. Still. She wasn’t speaking clearly. 

Suddenly she put her chin on his chest and looked up at his face, the biggest smirk on her lips. “My target!!” 

Before he could voice a complaint or anything that was close to the normal everyday banter among the team she did something unexpected. To underline what she had meant by “target” she pushed her fingertips into his sides. With an actual, utterly regrettable squeak Steve jumped and instinctively wrapped his hands around her wrists. It was pretty useless since the hug gave Natasha’s hands the perfect positions for tickling just where they lay.

“NO!” Steve held against her teasing grin and the still sort of wiggling fingertips on his sides. “Not those targets!!” A hysterical giggle escaped him when she repeated the tazering of his ticklish spots with her fingernails. “Natasha no NO! I mean it- quit- ahaha QUIHIHIT IT!!” 

The Black Widow didn’t much care about his threatening tone as it dissolved into a melody of helpless laughter at her squeezing, prodding and poking at his ticklish middle. Steve stumbled backwards and curled in on himself slightly, but couldn’t get away with her trapping him in the hug. She chuckled happily as he melted into a puddle of giggles in her arms.

“Oh gOHOHOD!! NAT STAHHAHAP! I MEHEHEHEAN IT!!” The big ol’ Supersoldier barely remained standing as Natasha’s fingers scribbled up and down his sides, curled over his hips and dived into the spaces between his ribs. There wasn’t much he could do to defend himself. He was lost to his laughter.

“Awe. I knew you would cheer for me.” Natasha beamed and didn’t stop her wandering hands for one second, wrecking the sad man until only joy remained. It was just as uplifting for her. She absolutely loved his laughter. It was like medicine when he didn’t hold back. 

“Pl-PlEHEHHEASE!! HoW IS THIS FAHHAHAIR???? NO MOHOHORE!!! I CAN’T, I CAN’T BREHEHEHEATHE-” Steve felt tears swell up in his eyes again, but now they were sparkling for other reasons than minutes before. He shrieked when fingers started digging into his armpits, sending him into hysterics. But only for so long. His knees gave way and the both of them tumbled to the ground of the balcony in a heap of laughter and flailing. 

“stop sTOP STOOHOOHP!!” Steve demanded as Natasha tried to keep the upperhand, hands sliding over his stomach and trying to get back into those hellishly ticklish armpits. But now he was more agile again. Hysterical giggles poured out of his mouth as he blocked all of Natasha’s advances towards his ticklish body, making her laugh too. “PLEHEHEASE NO MOOOOORE!!” 

Natasha chuckled and dropped her hands - finally, phew - only to stare at Steve take in deep breaths to make up for the air he had lost to laughter. His blue eyes were shining again. That’s what she liked to see.

“How are you feeling now, noobster?” She asked, getting another chuckle out of her ticklish friend.

“That is still soldier for you, madame.” He countered, shrieking when Natasha threatened to put him through another tickle attack. “SORRY??”

Natasha had to laugh really loud at that scream and retreated her hands again. She grinned at Steve and he returned the favor. “Nothing to be sorry for.”

Steve tilted his head gratefully.

“Do you want to light a candle later?” She added, putting a hand on his arm. He turned a little more serious again at her words, but the smile remained. After his little nod she squeezed his hand gently. 

“Then we will.” 

“GUYS GUYS GUUUUUYS!!!” Tony stormed out on the balcony with wide happy eyes. “GUUUYS!!!”

“Kinda sexist, but- what??” Natasha answered, grabbing Steve’s forearms and hauling him back on his feet. 

“YOU. WILL. NEVER. BELIEVE. WHAT. I. HIT.”

Steve made a rather worried expression at that. “Clint??!” 

Shocked Tony let his arms sink. “Nooooo. ... I mean, actually I missed him. BUT I DID HIT THE ...”

A loud roar could be heard from the living-room, followed by Clint’s girly scream.

“HULK!!”

Natasha and Steve exchanged a glance. Right before they barged into the Tower to calm the situation they shared a soft smile. 

#avengers tickle fic week #romanogers #tickling #avengers #ticklish!steve #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #tony stark #clint barton #bruce banner #thor #hulk

[ohmyomegasteveandalphabucky2]

sneak peek

i’m thinking of writing a completely niche, self-indulgent fic staged during the high italian renaissance where bucky is a cardinal who falls in love with artist steve who’s been hired at the vatican to paint the papal apartments. i know it sounds boring but! i had this beautiful idea about the two of them finally getting together underneath the sistine ceiling while good ol’ michelangelo has fled the pope once again. maybe if you guys like the sneaky peek i’ll post more? if not i might just keep it to myself lmao. as i said, kinda niche.

-

prior to this scene, bucky takes steve to the sistine chapel, which has not been finished yet. he’s hoping this will be able to win his mate over.

“What do you think?” he asked softly. He was worrying his crucifix where Steve couldn’t see.

The blonde blinked at him, as if he was still processing what he’d seen; there were tears shining in his eyes.

“We shouldn’t be in here,” was what he said, and that struck Bucky as quite odd.

“Why in god’s name not?”

Steve sucked in a breath. “The maestro -“

“The maestro has fled for Florence, once again,” Bucky stated cooly as he began to make his way towards Steve. “The pope has matters of war to attend to, and with his guards away after Buonarotti,” he shrugged, “there will be no one to interrupt us.”

“I would be bereft to know one had looked upon my art before completion,” the omega insisted nonetheless. Bucky tried not to be distracted by the way Steve was biting at his lips, but it was quite distracting indeed. “And still…” Steve paused to look back up at the uncompleted fresco, his head shaking minutely in disbelief. “This has truly taken my breath away.”

Bucky couldn’t that broke out across his face then. The air around Steve was saturated with his scent, light and joyful, like meadows in the countryside. It was intoxicating and the alpha in Bucky preened in delight; his mate was happy because of him. My mate, Bucky thought to himself. God, how he wanted.

“I have pleased you then?”

Steve smiled up at him, sweet and genuine. “You have.” And perhaps Bucky’s mind was playing hopeful tricks on him, but he could’ve sworn he noticed Steve shuffle slightly closer. “I was wrong about you, cardinal.” Steve looked up at Bucky through his long eyelashes, so innocent, as if he truly didn’t know what he looked like. “It seems as though you do have a heart.” Pink lips curled up into a smirk. “Or at least a semblance of one.”

Letting his crucifix fall back to his side, hesitantly, Bucky brought his hands up to clasp Steve’s in his own. They both gasped at the contact, like the touch ignited fire and ice beneath their skin. Steve blinked those big blue eyes up at him and for a moment Bucky was very much at a loss for words, his mouth gone dry as he gazed. The little omega laughed at him then, slipping a hand away to cover the blush upon his cheeks. And Bucky found himself to be taken aback.

“Why do you laugh?” he asked, brow furrowed, but tone light nonetheless.

“I assure you, it is nothing of your doing,” giggled Steve. The billowed artist shirt had fallen further down his shoulder, exposing even more skin that had not been kissed by the sun, nor an alpha. Bucky couldn’t take his eyes away, try as he might. And of course Steve noticed, his laughter died down and cut short by a somewhat embarrassed, rueful chuckle. He went to pull the fabric back up to make himself proper again, but it made Bucky growl lowly, causing Steve to stop entirely.

“Cardinal -“ Steve began to warn, but the other shushed him gently.

“Don’t,” he said. Steve sucked in a breath. “Let me see.”

“Please, cardinal -“

His red gown swished over the floor as the alpha prowled towards the small omega, putting them toe to toe, chest to chest, breathing each other's air. “Call me Bucky.”

Steve made a sound as though he’d been stabbed, swaying on the spot. Bucky moved quickly to wrap a hand around the thin boy’s waist to steady him. And there it was again, that feeling of intensity flooding his veins; it only ever happened when they touched.

“You feel that, don’t you?” Bucky lowered his head, bringing his lips to just barely brush against Steve’s. “Do not try to deceive me. I know you and I know this. And this -“ a sweet chaste kiss against chapped lips, too quick for Steve to have even closed his eyes, “- is not a sin.”

Steve went to pull away, whimpering, but Bucky held fast, pressing them tighter together. “Cardinal…” he begged.

“Bucky,” the other corrected.

Steve shook his head, trying to fight against Bucky’s hold but he couldn’t, and he knew exactly why. Some part of him didn’t want to fight it, some piece of him would have liked to be wrapped up in the strong alpha’s arms forever, maybe even after forever. And that was, perhaps, the most frightening thing of it all.

“Bucky…” whispered Steve, trailing off as though savoring the taste of the cardinal’s name in his mouth. His eyes were so wide and so blue and he was staring at Bucky with the same conviction as he’d show before when gazing upon the maestro’s ceiling. Bucky was looking back at Steve with the same sort of heated intensity, grey pupils blown nearly black, lush mouth parted just barely, and Steve wanted a taste so badly.

“Bucky, we can’t,” protested Steve, turning his face away from the alpha’s penetrative gaze.

“And who says we can’t?” Bucky scoffed. And Steve still found himself being shocked by the cardinal’s brashness and quickness to blaspheme. “I am an alpha, you are an omega. We were made for each other.”

“Our pup would be a bastard.” Steve cried, weakly pushing at Bucky’s chest. He couldn’t stay here, in this chapel, in this man’s arms, when he already felt his resolve breaking beneath the eyes of god himself. “It is a sin.”

Bucky pulled Steve back to him, the hand not currently encircling the blonde came up to cradle his cheek gently; Steve couldn’t help but nuzzle into his palm, and the tension visibly drained from slim shoulders as he sighed. “It is a sin,” Steve repeated. But it sounded hollow, even to his own ears.

“Perhaps in the eye of the church,” Bucky murmured. “But there is no love that is wrong in the eyes of god the father.” His lips lingered against Steve’s for another chaste moment, a ghost feeling, so light it could have been imagined.

And that was all it took to push Steve over the edge. He crashed his lips to Bucky’s and he saw stars explode behind his eyes.

“Steve,” Bucky groaned, licking into the boy’s mouth.

“It’s too much,” panted Steve as he desperately clung to the cardinal’s blood red robe. “I shall have to beg forgiveness…” his breathing became erratic, “from god almighty.”

“Do not do this if it is something you will regret.”

Steve pulled away with a sweet sound, long eyelashes fluttering as he met Bucky’s eyes, touching the tip of his finger to the cleft in the brunette’s chin.

“I have been...denying myself,” Steve admitted, a blush blooming across his cheeks as he looked away shyly. “But I feel some sort of ecstasy in this room with you. I can’t bear to deny myself this any longer.”

Bucky pulled Steve wholly to him, hips pressed together roughly. “What are you saying, angel?”

The omega whined high in his throat as he rocked his hips into the other sweetly. “Lay me down,” he whispered. “Claim me here, for god to see.”

“Oh, fuck, Stevie,” moaned Bucky before kissing him feverishly once more. This time, Steve was unrestrained, unbidden in lavishing his affection onto Bucky. Steve kissed him hard and without experience, teeth clacking and stealing the breath from Bucky’s mouth; it was easily the best kiss he’d ever shared.

“Get out of this robe,” Steve demanded, desperately pawing at the crimson material which was separating them. “I want to see you, please let me see you.”

“Anything,” Bucky assured. With trembling hands, he discarded his cardinals gown, sending it billowing to the floor. He shucked out of his underthings with similar urgency. They both pretended not to notice the muffled thud his golden crucifix made when dropped upon the pile of discarded clothes.

“Now you…” Bucky breathed out, chest heaving as he tried to steady his breathing. Steve was blushing a rosy shade of pink as he once more averted Bucky’s piercing gaze. The boy crossed his arms in front of his chest shyly as he looked up at the cardinal from beneath his lashes. “I’d like to see if you blush so all over.”

Steve let his hands slip into his sleeves, a darling gesture Bucky thought, which betrayed his nerves. The alpha prowled towards Steve, dark stare keeping his omega pinned and helpless to move away. He reached forward and fitted large palms against Steve’s delicate ribcage, spanning the bones underneath. Bucky shifted his hands beneath the fabric of the oversized shirt; calloused fingertips brushed over sensitive, pink nipples as he lifted the shirt up, causing Steve to shudder and cry out.

The cardinal smirked, just a touch feral. “Sensitive here, angel?” He pressed down on the little buds once more, if only to hear that sweet, tiny gasp of pleasure tumble past perfect lips.

“No one’s ever touched me there before,” admitted Steve, exhaling harshly at the sensation.

Bucky hummed, leaning down to fasten his lips to that thin chest, trying to see if he could garner another virginal reaction from the boy; he was not disappointed.

“Purity,” he mumbled against pale flesh. “Piety.” A kiss placed just below Steve’s blushing navel. “Innocence.” Bucky fixed him with a sultry look of his own while gently sliding canvas pants down creamy thighs. “Holy as a saint, beautiful as an angel.” He could smell the omega’s arousal, could see the beginnings of slick begin to drip and shine. “Give me thy sin, so that your conscious will no longer be troubled. I will take it all for you, my love.” Steve’s little cock was jutted upward, curved and proud, red enough to be angry and daring Bucky to do something about it. The alpha curled his hands around Steve’s thighs and leaned forward to nose about at the crease of his groin, simply breathing in the heady scent of his mate. “Bless me with your body and I will worship you as you deserve to be. I am but your servant.”

Lips parted, head tipped back, the boy slowly wound his fingers into dark, curled tresses. “Do not...blaspheme…” he managed to admonish, albeit breathlessly and completely unconvincingly. Any other traces of rebuke were chased away by the gentle press of lips to the underside of the omega’s little cock, the occasional flick of the tongue.

“Bless me,” the cardinal begged again, this time, looking up into hooded blue eyes as he began to pull them to the floor. Steve went willingly, legs splayed on either side of Bucky’s thighs, the two of them situated on red cloth so soon forgotten. Neither of them took their eyes off the other.

“How…” Steve began quietly, as if breathless. “How could I bless you?”

Soundlessly, Bucky flipped them, putting Steve beneath him. If he were an artist, Bucky might assert that the little blonde made a beautiful white contrast against the crimson red of his robe. Steve exhaled, short and high, and looped his thin arms about Bucky’s shoulders. Nevermind his thighs, which parted on their own accord to let the alpha slot between them. He made the same sort of startled squeak when Bucky jerked his hips forward, nudging the head of his cock at Steve’s slick hole.

Immediately, Bucky was hushing him gently. “Sorry, sorry,” he promised. He ran his hands through fine blonde hairs as he kissed his omega sincerely on the cheek. “M’sorry. Just...you don’t even know what you look like, what you do to me.”

Steve’s lashes were fluttering, head tossed back to expose the line of his throat as he clung to Bucky, nails digging in just that bit deeper with each passing second. “If you don’t get in me right now -” His threat was effectively reduced to nothing more than a quiver of a moan, barely echoing in the empty chapel, when Bucky rocked against him harder, slicking his cock with Steve.

“You’ll what?” taunted Bucky with a smirk. “Will you put up a little bit of a fight? Will you rough me up a little?” The alpha snatched Steve’s thin wrists in a tight grip and stretched his arms above his head, pinning him easily to the floor.

Perhaps it was Bucky’s way of offering one last out. And he expected Steve to do just that, to make a pass at getting away and maintain his sweet, boyish innocence. Which is why it was all the more shocking the reaction it did receive. A sudden rush of slick flooded from Steve’s hole as he moaned and writhed uncontrollably while Bucky held him down. It was like he didn’t know where to look, everywhere - everything that was Steve was so intoxicatingly beautiful. The cardinal was certain that he looked like a wide eyed boy, staring down at Steve, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

-

it would mean a lot to me if you guys let me know what you thought! would you want to read more? would a series of this be too much? ily guys so much.

ps: i swear i will be back in the inbox! i’m finally home for the summer and i hope to get my writing groove back soon. i’m recovering from a head injury, so i appreciate you guys being patient with me.

-han

#mod han #renaissance fic #omega!steve #alpha!bucky #abo verse #i'm sorry michelangelo

[honeylikewords]

may i request miguel getting snuggled/hugged? because he's lovely and he just looks really huggable and aaa!

Aw, that’s so cute! Sure, here’s some Miggy snugs!

An interesting thing about Miguel is how much his body has changed over the years, and that he never really had a ‘soft’ or seemingly super-cuddly-shaped phase; he wasn’t a round child, instead being surprisingly skinny even in his youth, then growing into a lanky, tall-for-his-age adolescent, before becoming the tall, sculpted man of his adulthood. He never was pudgy or squishy or especially soft to the touch. Even now, post-spiderbite, clocking in at 6′2′’ and over 230 pounds of muscle, Miguel seems like he’d be at his least cuddly stage of life.

But this is actually when he’s his most cuddly, and getting snuggled, hugged, cuddled and kissed by his beloved every day.

For example…

It’s a quiet Saturday afternoon and Miguel doesn’t have to go into the lab, so he’s taken the day off to stay home. He’s laying in bed in his boxers, stretching so that his tight back pops a little, and when it does, he relaxes with a contented sigh. His sweetheart wanders into the bedroom from the living room, carrying a plate with a sandwich on it, and Miguel sits up on his elbows, smiling at her.

“Here you go,” she says, setting the plate on the bedside table nearest Miguel. “Thought you might be hungry. It’s nearly noon and–”

But instead of replying, instead of taking the sandwich, Miguel reaches for his beloved’s hands, twining their fingers together and tugging at her arm, pulling her towards the bed wordlessly. She follows his lead and allows him to guide her into a position where she’s cuddled up to his side, her head resting on his broad chest, their still entwined hands sitting on his hard stomach with his thumb gently tracing over the hills and ridges of her knuckles.

Miguel kisses the crown of her head and nuzzles into her hair, humming with pleasure as he smells her shampoo, smells the warm, singular scent of her, feels her heat radiating into his skin. He adjusts his free hand so that his arm encircles her shoulders and folds her closer to his chest, then skates his fingers up and down her side, tracing the curve of her waist.

His beloved smiles into his chest and nudges her nose against his collarbone, burrowing into the thick column of his neck lovingly, and Miguel makes a little shiver as a deep chuckle vibrates in his sternum, the tickling sensation of her breaths on his sensitive neck making him squirm a little.

“Mmm, Miggy,” she breathes, feeling Miguel once again writhe as her breath passes over his neck, “Has anyone ever told you what a good cuddler you are?”

“Not especially,” he replies. “I think I tried to hug a girl in college and she told me I was all elbows and shoulders and that it hurt to get snuggled by me; I think the phrase she used was “like trying to cuddle a pile of steel rebar”.”

At that, Miguel’s sweetheart coos in sympathy, freeing her hand to pat his chest lovingly before grazing her palms up and down his pectorals, noting the number of thin, pale-tan scars lining them. He has scars all over from his altercations throughout the years, scattered over his arms, legs, back, chest, and hands. He even has a few small ones on his face, but as she gazes at his chest, she can see a jagged scar arcing across his pectoral. It looks new. She eyes it, blinking slowly before making her reply.

“Well, I think you’re wonderful to hold, wonderful to be held by. I always feel safe and comfortable when you’re holding me, you know? Like everything is going to be okay. Plus,” she grins, looking up from his chest to meet his ruby-red eyes, “You’ve got… these to cuddle!”

She swings a leg over his abdomen and pulls herself into a sitting position abruptly, then throws her hands down onto Miguel’s prominent pecs, squeezing them and making him burst into resounding peals of laughter. He tosses his head on the pillow as she squishes his pecs around, listening to her comments on how comfy they are to rest on with a huge smile on his face.

“And don’t even get me started on that butt,” she teases. “Ooh, man, what a cuddly butt. Big Butt O’Hara, that’s you. King of the cake.”

“Stooop,” Miguel half-heartedly whines, batting his hand in the air like a faux-humble Southern belle. “You’re fit to make me blush.”

“And your big ole’ thighs! My goodness, how could I forget to mention the thighs!”

“Come on, down you get,” he says as he places his hands on her waist, squeezing softly. “We were cuddling so nicely, too, before you launched the compliment crusade.”

“But I wanna compliment you! You’re cute when you’re flustered!”

This gives Miguel pause, and as he looks up into the face of his lover, sees the sincerity in her eyes, the warmth of her smile, the sweetness of her gesture, he melts a little, and can feel heat flushing his cheeks. She bends down at the waist and gives him a soft, slow kiss, one that makes Miguel feel simultaneously excited and at ease, racing and relaxed at once.

His hand cups her cheek, then inches towards the nape of her neck, coasting up into her hair and tugging her in to deepen the kiss. A soft groan rumbles in his chest, and he feels her pull off to breathe as the last notes of the groan tumble out of his lips, making him sound disappointed that she’s stopped kissing him. He is, of course.

 But he feels comforted when he looks up into her warm eyes, seeing them glitter with mirth and enjoyment. Miguel cups her jaw and strokes along her cheekbone, admiring the shape of her face, the way the light reflects off her skin, the shapes her hair makes as it shifts with her movements. Miguel stops for a moment, holding her chin in his hand; he’s realized how large his hands are compared to her.

She looks so small, even as she sits above him, and Miguel caresses his hand down her chin, along her neck, across her shoulder, and down her arm to her hand, then lifts her hand up, comparing the size of their fingers, the breadth of their palms. He massively outspans her, practically able to fold his fingers over the height of hers, and he cocks his head to the side, looking at the union of their hands.

“You’re tiny,” he remarks.

“You’re big,” she replies. “You’re the outlier, here!”

“That’s fair,” Miguel says softly, not really paying attention to his words, more invested in comparing their sizes, noting the differences between them. “But you’re still absolutely tiny, in my opinion. I mean, look at this!”

He puts his large hands on the smallest part of her waist and lifts her up, raising her without strain. His powers make her lighter than a feather to him, and he flaunts how easily he can move her around, able to lift her like a toy.

“You’re a doll!,” he chuckles, holding her above him vertically. “I could put you in my pocket!”

“I’m a very normal-sized woman!”

But Miguel just continues smiling, setting her down on the bed and scooping her close to his side, rolling so that he’s turned to face her. They face one another and grow quiet as they settle down, a calmness re-entering the room, and soon each of them putting their hands on the other and slowly, experimentally, soothingly touching what they find on their partner.

Miguel’s hands seek out her skin, his fingertips brushing along her forearms, her shoulders, even up to her lips, where he traces his index and middle fingers along the sensitive skin, following their natural curvatures and delicate shapes. Her hands find his hair, finger-combing through his locks and gently tugging in the way she knows he adores. 

His hair is curlier than it used to be; he used to straighten it for appearances’ sake, embarrassed of his curls, but he’s been growing more confident in his natural state as of late, letting his curls come back in, and she couldn’t be happier. She loves the curls, but more so loves that Miguel is finally starting to love himself, too.

For Miguel, he strokes his hands along her body, feeling how wonderfully solid she is, how unfleeting, how real and present. He caresses his hand along the plateaus of her back, rubbing at the spots where he knows she carries tension. He wants to ease those aches she gets, and smiles to himself when she makes a relieved murmur as he rubs at a sore knot in her back. In thanks, she scrapes her nails along the underside of his cut jaw, scritching his growing stubble lovingly, as if he was a well-behaved pet getting his reward for being such a good boy.

They continue their ministrations for one another for several minutes before Miguel pauses, his hands stilling and rubbing small, barely noticeable circles into the small of her back. Breathing out through his lips, Miguel takes a long, slow survey of her face, then speaks.

“I love you.”

They’ve said it before– by now, Miguel must have said it hundreds of times– but he always feels something deep and intrinsically powerful whenever he tells her that. For so long he struggled to allow himself to love, much less to say it aloud to the object of his affections, but now, with her, he feels safe enough to do it. And he really, truly does love her; he hopes she knows that.

“I love you, too,” she murmurs back, leaning in to press her forehead against his, a sensation of protection coming over Miguel as she says the words he needed to hear.

He rubs her back hard, trying to ground himself in both the emotional and bodily experience of this moment, then pushes on her back so that she’s pressed against his body, intimately close. His arms wrap around her and he squeezes her in as near as he can get her, ducking his head into the crook of her neck. She raises her hand and gently passes over his hair, humming something as she soothingly brushes at his dense, red-brown curls.

“I love you, Miggy,” she repeats. “Always and infinitely.”

“Always and infinitely,” he mirrors, mumbling into her neck, nearly shy.

After a few minutes in that position, Miguel shifts, rolling her onto her back and crawling so that he’s hovering above her, staring down at her with a loving smile on his face, slightly tinged with mischief. She can see that glimmer of rapscallion in him, but lets it slide; Miguel is nothing if not playful. He lowers his head and kisses her, then, both of them melting into one another. She tangles her arms around his neck, and his hands find purchase on her, allowing them to deepen the kiss.

She’s beginning to lose herself to the sensations of his kissing when, slowly, Miguel’s hands leave her shoulders and trickle towards her waist in that tell-tale kind of lightness; she jolts and breaks the kiss as Miguel gives her his troublemaker smile.

“Don’t you da-ARE–”

But she can’t get it out in time; Miguel has already started tickling her sides furiously, making her shriek and wriggle as he locks her into a pinned position with his legs and arms.

“MI-G– MIGUEL!,” she screams, laughing wildly as she tosses and turns on the bed beneath him, writhing in tickled agony, “ST-OP IT!

He just bends down and kisses her face playfully, still ravaging her sides with tickles, and both of them know there’s nowhere else in the world they’d rather be than right here, in this moment, with the one they love.

#messages #anonymous #long post #miguel o'hara

[justaramblingromantic]

promise

Characters/Pairing: Kobayashi Rindou and Tsukasa Eishi/EiRin

Type: Canon compliant, Post-series, Canon-divergent AU, Peerless-verse, Freestyle

Word Count: 1657

A/N #01: Been dreaming of Sicily again, and this was what came out of it. 

This is also a continuation of ‘mine’ and ‘favorite wild thing.’ Reckon there will be another three or four more loosely connected drabbles in this mini-series before I’m done. This couple just won’t leave me be, I swear.  

xXxXxXxXxX

That morning, she was all disgruntled and grumpy as they set off from Palermo. Wearing an oversized pair of shades and hunkered down on the passenger seat in an oversized hoodie, dark red hair tumbling down her back that was still not completely dry from her shower earlier, she looked rather miserable for someone who was on vacation.

Beside her, taking the wheel of the SUV that they had rented, Eishi briefly took his gaze off the road to glance at the miserable lump that was his girlfriend.

“Still hungover?”

She responded with an unintelligible mumble, hunching even further into her seat like an upset turtle.

“This is why you shouldn’t have drunk so much last night,” he scolded lightly, not entirely sympathetic with her misery since it wasn’t as if she was dying or anything of that sort. She turned towards him and sent him what was probably a gimlet stare from behind the darkened lens of her shades, but his response to her crankiness was to grab a baseball cap sitting on the dashboard of the car and place it on the top of her head, further shading her sensitive eyes from the bright morning sun.

“Rest. I’ll wake you at a pit stop.”

She was feeling a lot more like herself a couple of hours later, though still a bit quieter than usual. He had made sure that she was properly watered down and also had some food in her, so she was a lot less irritable, and was even beginning to gaze at their surroundings with renewed interest. Soon, they would arrive at the sprawling olive grove and vineyard where they would be spending the majority of this trip, nestled in the charming, rustic countryside of southeastern Sicily. As they got closer and closer to their destination, so grew Rindou’s interest and anticipation, and by the time they pulled into the massive, eighty-hectare farm of Pianogrillo, the redhead was already vibrating uncontrollably, beside herself with excitement.

“Tsukasa, look!” She turned to him with sparkling eyes and a giddy smile stretched across her face. “Isn’t this awesome? I can just smell all the adventures to be had here, already!!” She wound down the side window and stuck her head out of the car, taking deep lungfuls of the crisp country air as they drove past neat lines of olive groves and fruit orchards on a graveled road, an irrepressible grin growing.

A friend of a friend had recommended this place for a farmstay when Rindou had been researching for things to do in this region, and she was glad that she had taken up that suggestion and made a booking – the farm was even more gorgeous than what she had seen in the photos, with its sprawling vineyards that stretched out as far as the eye could see and that beautiful view of the majestic Sicilian mountain range in the distance. She could not wait to get out of the car and start exploring the grounds.

Eishi was bemused by her rousing enthusiasm. Undoubtedly she had been to even more exotic places than this for her work, but no matter where they went, she was always excited and happily marveling at the sights and, of course, exclaiming over the food. No wonder she was so well suited for her role on screen; she was so infectiously bubbly, he wanted to smile.

“Are you really that excited about this trip?” he asked.

She turned to him and peered at him incredulously, as if surprised that he even had to ask. “Of course, duh! I’m here and you’re here and we’re both at this very same place looking at the same views and sharing the same experiences! Don’t you think that’s special? I wonder what fun we’re gonna have here; we should go on more trips together, Tsukasa!”

He glanced briefly at her, lips twitching at her palpable exuberance as she chattered away a mile a minute. Her mood was definitely fully revived now, and it made him happy too, knowing that she wanted to visit all these faraway and foreign places with him and share her pleasure and delight with him.

“Yeah. Let’s travel together more from now on.”

They pulled into the front yard of the guesthouse and Rindou wasted no time climbing out of the car, grinning from ear to ear as she turned in a circle and gazed all around her. The actual working farmstead was a fair distance away and she thought that she could also see the stables just partially hidden up ahead along the road. There was even an infinity pool nestled right beside the guesthouse, and the 17th century architecture of all the holdings on the property had been painstakingly preserved and restored to exactly how they used to look in the past.

Eishi got out of the driver’s seat as well, pulling his shades up to rest on the top of his head as he looked curiously around too. There was farmland stretched out all the way to the horizon no matter which direction he turned; endless plots of orchards and vineyards cultivated upon gently undulating hills and rolling knolls, and it was almost disconcerting, all this amount of vast wide space that were utterly devoid of crowds and people, nothing but nature, flora and fauna all abound. It would take a bit of getting used to, but the white-haired man thought that it was already starting to feel like a peaceful, stress-free kind of vacation. Hopefully.

He turned to head to the back of the car to unload their bags when Rindou loped back to him and grabbed his hand, pulling him along in an entirely random direction.

“C’mon minion number two, let’s venture upon these virgin lands and go explore!”

“But our stuff-”

“Do that later, let’s go, let’s gooo! Ah! That’s the pig pasture over there, isn’t it! I’m pretty sure they are rearing free range Sicilian Black Pigs here; don’t you wanna go see-”

She was already salivating at the thought of those delicious, organic pork chops rooting about the woodlands, happy and plump. Eishi’s wilted determination was no match for that sort of motivation fueling her, and so he was promptly dragged along. They didn’t get too far though, for a horse with a rider approached them at leisurely canter from the farm, waving them to a stop as he neared. The steed was a tall, handsome equine with a sleek chestnut coat though Eishi was not familiar enough with horses to determine its breed, and its rider was a dark haired, goateed, middle aged man dressed casually in jeans, a plaid shirt and dusty riding boots.

“Bon vinutu! Welcome to Pianogrillo!” he called out in a heavily accented English as he drew to a halt in front of them. Flashing a smile, his gleaming white teeth stood out against his tanned, olive complexion.  

“Ciau~!” Rindou greeted back cheerfully, her ears perking at the familiar voice. “Are you signore Lorenzo?”

The man dismounted from his horse and turned to them. “Se, I most certainly am! And you must be the newlyweds! Congratulations, my dears. How was your drive here? I hope it was nice and uneventful.” Lorenzo unhooked a ring of keys from his belt loop and jingled them merrily. “Come; let us go first to the guest house and then I’ll show you around. We’ve prepared the most beautiful honeymoon suite for you lovebirds, I promise you’ll fall in love here all over again! Then we shall open a nice bottle of sweet wine to toast to your happiness!”

Eishi did a small, gaping double take as Lorenzo herded them back towards the guesthouse. Then he stared at Rindou, bewildered.

…Newlyweds…?

To his wonder, Rindou happily, gamely, accepted the offer. “Thanks for the hospitality, Lorenzo-san! We’re in your care!”

“So. We’re…married now?” Eishi asked his beaming ‘wife’ drolly while they were waiting for their gregarious host to tether his horse to a nearby hitching post.

The redhead grinned. “Why not? You don’t wanna?”

“I did not say that,” he was quick to refute. “Though it’d be nice if you can give me some warning next time since apparently I’ve missed my own wedding.”

She petted his arm consolingly, amused that he was playing along. “S’okay! Your beautiful, patient and considerate bride understands that you were busy with work. But feel free to make it up to me during our honeymoon…or I may just run off with some handsome Italian stallion when you aren’t looking~”

He gave her a deadpan stare…and then he glanced pointedly at their surroundings, where there was nothing but farmland all around.

“…Where in this countryside, pray tell, are you planning to wrangle a ‘handsome Italian stallion,’ my wayward, runaway bride?” he asked politely.

She coughed to mask a laugh at his deceptively mild question. She widened her eyes earnestly. “When there’s a will, there’s a way. And I’m a very determined woman, as you know!”

“I’ll paddle your backside,” he muttered in response, and she snickered.

“Is that a bribe~?” she asked innocuously, gold slit gaze sparkling with mirth and anticipation, and he groaned.

“You’re terribly unruly,” he chided.

“But you married me anyway,” she reminded him cheekily. “S’too late for returns now~!”  

He grabbed her hand and tugged her close before she could skip off in her excitement like she tended to do sometimes. “Who says I’m returning you?” he retorted. “You may be a handful but I know how to handle you.”

His bossiness was intriguing to her, and so she obediently stayed close, also partially pleased by his confidence when it came to being with her. She sidled over, tiptoed, and pecked his cheek, pleased to enjoy the thrilling luxury of his undivided attention, especially since they had both been so busy with work lately.

“Is that a threat?”

His lavender gaze settled on her, quietly darkening at her happy affection.  

“It’s a promise.”

xXxXxXxXxX

A/N #02: Pianogrillo Organic Winery and Olive Groves is a legit farmstay in Sicily and you can check their listing out on Airbnb. Yah, sometimes when I have nothing to do I like to go and look at listings on Airbnb in different countries, haha.

#Food Wars: Shokugeki no Souma #Shokugeki no Soma #EiRin #Tsukasa Eishi #Kobayashi Rindou #EiRin: Peerless AU #my fics #freestyle #[ yah - so there was a honeymoon even BEFORE the actual marriage haha! ] #[ tbh were these two goofs ever out of the honeymoon phase tho ]

[cherry4colas]

the new NEW video has my soul thanks

don’t expect this to be the last post with me freaking out about sanders sides

SO THE NEW EPISODE

SPOILERS FOR DEALING WITH INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS!!!!!

more below the cut uwu

- REMUS. FREAKING REMUS. I LOVE MY STINKY SON, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. HE DESERVES ALL THE L O V E- cough - I love Remus. All the brotherly parallels are amazing, with “Have you ever imagined killing your brother?” and then two seconds later, Roman’s been knocked out by a freAKING MACE. BY. HIS. B R O T H E R. amazing. and we have the Cain and Able parallel and the Romulus and Remus parallel. just,, amazing work. a m a z i n g  w o r k. - i love how remus affects each side depending how much they fear him. Roman must fear his brother a freaking lot since he was out for 97% of the video, but logan was like “oh, ninja star in my head? i’ve experienced worse.” - speaking of logan, mY SON WAS CALLED COOL. UH, YES?!?!? this video is pushing roman closer to his character arc and is pushing logan’s back. and thank god for that. we’ve had to experience over a year of roman angst, and while i love myself some good ol’ ANGST, i really just want it to come tumbling ouT! blurt it out, if its easier! like ripping... thE SWORD FROM THE STONE!!!1 i’m sorry. - patton didn’t have a very big role in this episode, but i still loved him. im definitely gonna use “singing to myself cause im not uncomfortable at all” in the future- - back to logan, he wAS SO COOL IN THIS EPISODE?!?!? LIKE, HIM SOFTLY EXPLAINING THINGS TO THE OTHER SIDES MAKES ME SO HAPPYYYY!!!!!! - roman a n g s t, man. the funhouse mirror thing made my heart hurt ajskjak- - VIRGIL. - V I R G I L . - i mean i feel like we been knew, but v I R G I L - and he just sinks out like,, what if thomas hates him now? what if it all goes back to pre-accepting anxiety? that’d make me saaadd - remus. I just,, don’t know how to start explaining him - i love him. I don’t love to hate him and i don’t hate that i love him, I LOVE HIM! the “theres a snake in my b U T T!” always gets me! deceit what’re you doing down there- - i also feel like there’s some m a j o r dark side angst going on here and I’m living for it. - I mean, just think about it. The dark sides are never really listened to, right? And they’re hated. But now, one of them left, and guess what? He’s getting listed to. He’s loved. Thomas and the light sides care about him. Obviously, they’d get jealous. Why should he get loved if they’re just like him? Technically. So, they try to force Virgil to come out and tell Thomas about his past. “It takes a liar to know a liar.” “I wouldn’t hide anything from you!” Together, Deceit and Remus push Virgil to tell Thomas about being one of the Others. Because, Thomas “hates” the others. now that he knows Virge used to be one of them, wouldn’t he hate Virgil too? They’re bitter and they want to get back at Virge for betraying them. - virgil’s face when roman comes back - virgil’s face when logan’s getting thanked for being so coOl - roman apologizing to logan - “you’re not dead!” wow, thanks pat - virgil showing concern for roman sorry, my multishipper is showing - i’d like to point out how during the 12 days of chrismas, roman mentioned naked aunt patty, and during the song, remus bent down a moment and a sticky note behind him said “aunt patty naked.” just wanna point that out - speaking of the song, wOW ITS AMAZING! its really catchy and- ugh, good job joan! props to them! - “everything is okay.” wow okay my heart just- wow - thomas is just a whole mood and a half thank you very much - “despite his best efforts virgil could never stop being the bad guy!-” -i’m probably missing some stuff bc the episodes so freaking amazing and this post is a mess bc im a mess but like, i love the entire 41 minutes and 17 seconds - i really loved this entire episode and I cannot wait for the next episode. tho, take ur time, thomas and the crew. ur doing great, but don’t overwork yourself. and thomas, get some sleep. you uploaded at like 2am - and i saw some people in the comments of the video complaining about remus. like, if you don’t like him, then whatever, thats your opinion. but, remus did not “make sanders sides more mature” and “less funny.” there are content warnings in the beginning, so if you’re like 7 years old, then you should know what to expect. yeah, there were mature jokes, but there have always been mature jokes. take “virgan” as an example. personally, i love remus and will protect the stinky boi with my entire being. and ss isn’t “less funny.” this was literally one episode. yeah, thomas is probably going to discuss more heavy topics later, but that shouldn’t make a difference - okay i’m done ranting- - this post is a mess but so are my emotions after watching the new NEW episode so-

#ts spoilers #i freaking love remus fight me #sanders sides #thomas sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders

[oftripps]

“ –– wow. ”  it’s not so much a critique as it is a g-rated expletive. tripp forces a smile mid-chew and blinks. “ my tastebuds are screaming. gah–– uh, singing. singing. ”  he avoids swallowing and as ring-decorated fingers snag a napkin, wide eyes drifting to the tabletop as a small jingle breezes past tensed lips. “ ~ allergic to mushrooms ~ ”

or, alternatively: this is somethin’ new! the caspar slide pt. 2 !! & this time, it’s ‘bout to get funky !!  so i’m linc and this is tripp and he’s........ a trip, honestly, so let’s just... yeet on into this ––

( joe keery + 22 + muse 12 ) isn’t that phillip joel “tripp” goodman over there? i heard he joined faction: one after they got back to west ham. it’s funny, ‘cause they were only on the service trip because HIS BANDMATES DUPED HIM INTO THINKING THE SIGN-UP WAS FOR A WOODS-THEMED OPEN MIC GIG. hopefully they fit in there – they’re JAUNTY but also OUTRÉ. oh, i’m sure they’ll be fine.

out the door !  ( tripp goodman: a roadmap )

look up townie family in the dictionary and you’ll find a portrait of the goodmans directly beside. these folks have a looooong flippin’ legacy here in lil’ ole west ham, kansas. it all started with montgomery goodman, a good man, who helped west ham’s founders break ground on this midwestern charmer several centuries ago. and now, the goodmans still live on the same property –– a refurbished farmhouse ( now closer to mcmansion ) surrounded by five acres of roooooollin’ hills. once upon a time, they were farming folk. now, theresa and joel goodman run the town’s one and only veterinary clinic. 

honestly, growing up? tripp was a problematic kid. he’d take in frogs from the woods and start his own frog hotels. he’d sneak pets from the clinic to school who “ needed help learning their numbers ”. in class, he’d flick sunflower seeds at the backs of his peers’ heads and, when threatened with discipline, claim he simply “ wanted to see if they’d grow  ” .  so no, to answer your question–– tripp never really saw the real wrath warranted by his rulebreaking.

in fourth grade, he chose the saxophone as his required instrument. he caused such a commotion in his house, that his parents asked his teachers to suggest something quieter. the viola. the flute. the clarinet. the piano. instruments came and went,;instruments were quickly mastered and abandoned. because dear lord, how many times could they listen to the spongebob theme song played on woodwind ?!  on strings ?!  once middle school rolled around, little phillip joel knew his way around a whopping total of six instruments, a tally that would only grow in the coming years. eventually, his parents caved and allowed him to keep playing, so long as he respected instrument curfews. they gave song requests to avoid hearing the same pieces on repeat: the goodman household was probably the only one blessed with an oboe-and-beatbox rendition of under the sea. young phillip joel’s take on the issue was simple: not all heroes wore capes.

( tw: domestic unrest, mentions of violence ) theresa and joel split when tripp was 9. just seven months later, tripp’s mother moved in with her girlfriend: tripp’s guitar teacher, ms. lillith. tripp didn’t mind ms. lillith. she was chill. he came to find out she could knock back a chocolate milk almost as fast as he could, and she liked her grilled cheeses with swiss only. his best friend became a thirty-six year old woman who happened to be his mother’s girlfriend. and that was fine. he could dig it. but joel goodman? oh no. his family name was tarnished. the scandal was too much to bear. joel sued for full custody and nearly made it, thanks to hometown politics and loyalties. but then he made one fatal mistake: he crossed his own son.

at 10 years old, fifth grade phillip joel returned home to his father’s after school with three fingernails painted effervescent blue. sidney frasier made me so cool, he gushed as he put his colored nails on proud display. dad, aren’t i so cool?  the next day, his dad enrolled him in the town’s peewee football program. he returned home from his first practice with a black eye and a split lip. from a ball, the coach insisted. hit the poor fella square in the face, real strong. phillip joel put up a fight against football; it wasn’t for him. it conflicted with music practice. couldn’t he just play music with ms. lillith instead?

the custody battle persisted. they settled on a parenting schedule. joel contested, consistently, months later. and so the cycle persisted up until phillip joel’s 12th year, when he was knocked out cold on the football field. the broken ribs came from hefty tackles. bruises from the fall. concussion from the impact. but theresa spun it to her advantage: joel had since started coaching the middle school team. this was an instance of parental neglect. and, when the courts didn’t comply, she instructed her son to jump down the stairs. one broken ankle later, and joel goodman was accused of child abuse. his word against his injured son’s. the maneuver won theresa full custody. phillip joel has yet to forgive himself.

after the custody battle’s conclusion, joel stayed in town: but phillip joel didn’t want a thing to do with sharing his name. his mother still scolds him as phillip joel, but to everyone else, he became tripp –– inspired by his knack for, you guessed it!, tumbling over his own two feet.

in high school, tripp was the class clown. always smirking, always grinning, always ready to catch someone off guard. he became a pivotal part of west ham high’s jazz band, and even formed a small group with a few buds: face. they played some school events: homecoming, pep rallies, prom. garage-baked young rock, their songs often preached meetings under bleachers and high school never ending. 

in senior year, the band saw a reboot: and after assuming a more indie, spacey sound and a nifty new name –– 1757. –– they saw a rise in local celebrity. coffee shops commissioned them for jam nights. they played on the local radio. so they collectively decided to stick around and see how far they could ride this west ham fame train. with tripp as their frontman, they always leave a memorable impression: he’s not exactly the most run-of-the-mill performer.

1757.’s sound is reminiscent of LANY: i’ve reblogged a few tunes onto tripp’s blog for reference. he’s v much a paul klein / matty healy vibe. big into music. big into losing himself in it.

so what was he up to before the service trip? playin’ tunes. working part-time as a waiter. and brainstorming ways to get out of going on this trip, as soon as he realized his stupid bandmates lied about the form he signed. an open mic in the woods ! pah !  he should have known. but the concept sounded pretty flippin’ cool.

wear our shades on our nose, 'cause we're cool like that ( tripp goodman: the man, the myth, the ledge )

oh god, he’s  w e i r d .  he believes in goblins and ghosts and aliens ( oh my )!

still VERY VERY close with his mother. v broken up about not being able to get through to her, because it was about to be his parents’ wedding anniversary and they were going to anti-celebrate it with big slices of oreo cheesecake and setting things on fire.

how he feels about coming home to west ham: post apocalyptic version.

uhhhh... can he please get a waffle? specifically a cinnamon raisin waffle with extra cinnamon and a shit ton of syrup? actually. syrup with a side of waffles?

why he was banned from his personal twitter.

“ do you even lift, bruv? ”  * proceeds to pick up a teacup & lift his pinkie like a true knock-off british monarch, shitty accent included *

listens to wham! and glam rock. unironically.bluetooth speaker mounted on his bike. no helmet! like an absolute boss. he knows!! wild!! shades on. it’s 2am. it’s dark. but true swag obeys no clock.

catch him biking everywhere stranger things style, actually. his bike’s name is milo because he can roll on for miles. mess with milo and he’ll fuck u up. aka find out if you’re lactose intolerant and slip heavy cream into your meal.

has a strong vendetta against blue doritos. which might take root in some horrific experiences involving cheez wiz, cool ranch, weed, and the new york subway system at 4am on a tuesday. spring break freshman year of college. oof.

he has a lil drawwwwl. tease him about it. he’ll probably blush.

stress-hums chili’s babyback ribs without realizing. catch him singin’ that about to be murdered.

weapon of choice: kindness.

actual weapon of choice: baseball bat.

he will write little jingles to keep morale up. “ so we’re trapped / cash us inside / how bou’ dat ? ”

has a passion for introspective literary quotes. but... has somehow managed to learn each and every one wrong.

friggin’ loves superheroes even though he can’t be bothered to watch the films? he just… always used to get made fun of for liking comic books even though he never read them? “ arachnid man is uh...  heh. he’s pretty dope, huh? ” he embraces the falsehood. someone call him on it.

9/10 times if he’s in the gym, it’s just to eat his donut and watch pay-per-view movies on the bike for free.

apple pie can absolutely be breakfast if you try hard enough. jeez. get with the times, man!

he had a legitimate pet rock before going on this service trip. but has no idea where that bugger’s gone. probably got fed up with tripp serenading him with “ we will rock you ” at all hours of the night.

lawful good. will wave other drivers on forever.

got into an accident on his bike once. bitch broke his arm and he just kept on smiling.  “ no you have a nice day! and uh.... hey. mind if we like... call an ambulance? ”

low key feels like he’s the reason his parents’ marriage crumbled. low key guilty about it. low key wonders if maybe he lived up to his father’s expectations, he might have saved them a lot of grief.

give benny goodman by saint motel a listen and tell me that’s not his soul in audio form.

known for slightly hyperbolic storytelling.

pansexual as heck. falls in love. hard. it’s a mess. he can’t hide it. hence the shades.

he has brilliant hair. and it’s immortalized in his high school yearbook.

is hellbent on being a source of positivity in this terrible situation. can he interest you in a meme in these trying times? how ‘bout a granola bar? maybe a good ole game of mash?

he’s convinced this is an elaborate prank. or a social experiment. maybe aliens. but let’s not question it too much, let’s just.... have a good time? hakuna matata? no worries? lol where the twizzlers at?!

leaves a voicemail for his mother every morning and every night. maybe he cries. maybe.

he has one ear pierced because like.......... senior year of high school, he wanted to feel more cool.

allergic to mushrooms, shellfish, eggs, and harbingers of doom.

he truly boggles minds. just.... v out there? v spacey. he closes his eyes and drifts about on stage, fingers dancing on the keys, body moving in eclectic ways. he says “groovy” and fuckin’ means it. he dresses in prints inspired by grandma’s carpet. lots of half-buttoned flowy shirts, boots, tailored statement pants, dangly necklaces. he’s got his hands full of rings –– they symbolize milestones. and some are just, like... pretty. and one’s his mother’s old wedding band.

where the hell are my friends !  ( wanted connectz. )

i was gonna do a whole section on this and got lazy but like.... anything. all the things. good, bad, ugly, beautiful. hurt him. make him suffer. but also support him a bit.

i imagine he’s got a solid squad goin’. he’s in faction one too, so... hmu for those.

i feel like he’d be pretty chill with the greeks? yeah bro, he parties. he’ll chill. he’ll crack open a cold one and pretend to understand what those letters on your jacket mean! pie-apple-fate-uh? cool stuff !

ride or dies. pls.

he needs someone to like....... melt his heart. maybe someone unexpected.

thisssss got long & disorganized but yes! let’s plot! let’s do this thang! #hype!!

#apogeeintro #✰ mother trucker dude; that hurt like a buttcheek on a stick ! isms. #if u cannot tell...... he is a gay ass MEME

[honeypharaoh]

Hi im adri and i have terrifying dreams sometimes

What got me tonight was something most definitely inspired by this tumblr post that fucking speculates that the afterlife for us beings is spectating the world….and it’s cool and shows people roaming mountains and spectating someone harvesting crops and shit but like...I’ve come to realize that there could be a rather scary/jarring aspect to this (but with dreams….)

Just statistically speaking, you’d most definitely spectate someone as they’re dying.

God, I had this dream that scared the shit out of me where it felt like I was spectating someone as they were literally dying by most likely ODing and choking on their own vomit while being rushed into a hospital with EMTs performing CPR and rushing to save my/their life. Like the classic ‘ole “WE’RE L OSING ‘EM GET THE PAAADDLES” typa deal.

And lemme tell y’all.

That shit freaked me the fUCK OUT. Because I could feel it. I could feel how fast they were pushing me down the hallway. How disoriented and sick whatever was doing me in was curdling my stomach. How everything was going too fast for me and how I really didn’t want to be there. T-the tightness of the straps from the gurney on my chest. The feel of the medical-grade plastic on my face.      How the hand was squeezing the bag to the push air IN but I felt  none of it despite it covering my nose and my mouth and me being able to feel it on my skin. And not in my lungs. The bile swallowing me up from the inside and stealing the breath away from me.

It was w i l d. And because of this I felt and experienced whatever I have spent these last 22 years collecting, learning, and understanding the concept of death in about o n e second in dream time (AKA AN ETERNITY) and it was terrifying.

Like

Wake me out of a dead sleep gasping for AIR type of scary.

Because all I could feel was  pain, fear, and r e g r e t.

(slight detour I later figured that this all happened because i was lowkey dying in real life from sleeping in a way that blocked my airways and me actually not being able to breathe at the time and my body just panicking... the timing  of the whole dream was sublime.)

But anyway that was the experience that decided that I wasn’t gonna sleep tonight because WOW im not as comfortable with mortality atm and i gotta examine why. I don’t feel like I’ve lived a full life and really want to do mORE by the time my time is well….up! Feeling that deadass felt like a second chance and I’m not squandering it. Because that could’ve been it. That has definitely been IT for a l o t of people.

So, going back to the tumble post, where the spectating aspect of actually dying is valid in this analysis, who knows if you’d feel it? Dying that is. Isn’t feeling like   a part of being alive? Obviously physical but what about emotional? Feeling the life leave your body. The fear of not leaving your mark on the world, or leaving behind people and pets you love/ take care of. Not being able to taste your favorite ice cream eVER again. How about thoughts of the last time you saw your family and possible embarrassment at the chances of  your mom putting you in that prom dress you dESPISE for your funeral? Not being able to tell off that person you hate and rub something in their face….like your fist.  Missing someone so hard that you cry. How there’s likely a person who would be crying for you and they would experience all that sadness and loneliness that I left them with and can’t take away because I can’t experience it anymore because I’m Gone. Dead. Finito. No more moving, feeling, or being. That just….doesn’t sound tubular, guys.

Would it be just like watching a TV and not being impressed because you’ve seen it all before or because….you’re not feeling it because it’s not you so you can’t relate. You can only look back to the times when you were alive and compare and relate. But feel nothing. Only look on passively, enviously, at those who are experiencing anything. Because you aren’t anything anymore. So, how can you feel anything?

This is what depression feels like for me. It feels like death. It feels like I have nothing and it’s so terrifying because I DO. It’s voices in my head saying shit doesn’t matter when it does! Telling me I don’t matter, like, at all. That the only thing in life is pain and who  better to cause it than myslef. And if I don’t matter then what does? If I can’t feel and I’m not doing anything but spectating then aren’t i dead?

Here at 4:36am I can actually say I’m not, though.

And I blame that fucking nightmare for reminding me what could be waiting for me “on the other side” and how I need to do whatever the fuck I w a n t. (creatively, professionally, personally and in ways that aren’t shitty to other people when it’s not necessary). Whether it’s writing, editing, directing, acting, dancing, photography, cosplay, yoga, talking about my fucking feelings (yeah i know), or just,,,, bEING HAPPY I need to jUST. DO I T.

TLDR; I had a dream that knocked the depression out of me enough to just…….be awake and feel okay and to not let shit get to me and trust myself. And by the power of the internet and memes, my brain finally snapped out of it for the night...or maybe tricked itself idk uhhh and I’m able to finally see the ways of the pariah turned messiah, Shia Labeouf's, words uttered not so many years (yes, yEARS) ago.

My brain @me (albeit through a rather cryptic way):

#agri's ramblings #dreams #death #depression #ted talk shit #@owlturd #owlturd #memes #internet #shia surprise #do it #this is what happens when I can t sleep and smoke #life #pursuit of happiness #adri's ramblings #wow I just noticed that first tag was fucked up gOD DAMNIT #just call me agri

[authorellenmint]

For your fic req because it just popped in my head as soon as I read your post. So.. a modern AU

Cullen and Alistair (as friends or lovers, you choose) go camping on the weekend. They hike up a mountain and come across another couple - Hawke (of your choice) & Isabela who clearly have no idea about how to do nature but are just kinda just winging it- you know the sort, those people that seem totally clueless but somehow life just works out for them and they just enjoy the ride. Cullen, a fastidious outdoorsman, just cant wrap his head around how they’ve survived this far, but Al being the bubbly happy go lucky sort soon makes friends. Impromptu night of shared food and banter around a campfire, fun and laughter and Bonus - maybe even some *cough* tent sex that makes the other pair blush/giggle/also have tent sex.

Is… is that how you meant? Lol

Cullen growled, his firelight eyes casting to the pair of fellow hikers they stumbled across on the trail. Or so they claimed. With neither tent nor pack in tow, he was beginning to question every word out of their mouths. In particular from that Isabela woman. She reminded him far too much of other charlatans he’d butted heads with over the years.

“Oi,” a finger jabbed into his side, Alistair sliding closer over the dusted ground. “What’s crawled up your backside this time?”

This was supposed to be a secluded hike, four days in the mountains with nary a person to talk to. His gaze flickered over to the prodding man beside him. Nary a new person to talk to. Getting Alistair to cease speaking required the use of both rope and duct tape, though he did have some in his pack.

Isabela chuckled, the gold jewelry around her neck jangling. Jewelry. In the woods. Who did such a thing?

Her partner wrapped an arm around the woman’s shoulders, then stuck a five-pronged stick into the fire. In an instant, all of the marshmallows cindered to flame. But that didn’t bother Hawke, his beard never ceasing to sway in a laugh as he blew out each one, then suckered the gooey mess off with his teeth.

“Your turn,” he passed the stick to Isabela, who plucked hers off with her fingers. The pair chowed down, smearing the sticky white mess over their mouths with a laugh. They barely glanced away from each other to the two men trying to not watch too intently.

“Oh,” Hawke bellowed, “do you guys want any?”

“No th–” Cullen began.

Alistair lashed his hands forward to pick two off, “Yes, please.” He crammed one into his mouth then turned to the prickly pear beside him. “Seriously? You’d seriously turn down a roasted marshmallow? More for me,” and he popped the second into his overcrowded jaw.

“So, let me get this straight,” Cullen sighed, not looking towards his companion who was slobbering to swallow down that mass. “You brought neither tent, nor proper gear, not even typical hiking rations, or anything to start a fire for that matter, but you have marshmallows.”

“Yup, spotted ‘em at the gas station just before the parking lot,” Hawke grinned wider. “Thought it’d be fun.”

“We’re winging it,” the woman winked at Cullen who scowled deeper.

“Sleeping out under the stars…” Hawke mused.

“While risking both lyme disease and drowning in a rainstorm,” Cullen muttered to himself.

“Walking through the woods to chase a deer,” Isabela answered back to Hawke, her ass scooting closer until she was nearly perched on his thigh.

“Falling off a cliff when you venture from the trail due to the lack of a map…”

“Finding that twenty-foot tall waterfall and jumping off!” Hawke shouted, one fist pumping through the air before Isabela caught it. She grabbed his hands to pull around the small of her back, flat out sitting in his lap now.

Drawing a finger down his jaw, she whispered, “Breaking in the waterfall.”

“Oh yes,” Hawke gasped, wrapping his arms around Isabela and dipping her down for a kiss.

“Breaking in…” Cullen scowled, shaking his head. To prove his annoyance he gesticulated to the idiotic couple while turning to Alistair for backup. Sadly, the man was too intently watching the spit-swapping session to do anything more than shrug. “How are you two not dead?” he settled for instead, accepting he was on his own.

Hawke snorted, “I ask that every day.”

“Nothing ventured,” Isabela responded back, sounding more and more like a pair of bank robbers trying to lay low until the heat was off 'em. “Any chance we can bum a lighter off you?”

“No,” Cullen spat out fast.

“Sure,” Alistair answered for him, already fishing the green one out of his pocket, “Captain Prepared here came with three.”

“In case the first two are damaged, or run out of…” he tried to reach past, not prepared to give an inch to these scammers, but Alistair was having none of it. Knocking his shoulder into Cullen’s chest, he turned that rarely-seen glare upon him and Cullen sank down to his seat in the dirt.

“So,” Alistair began, “you two got big plans for tomorrow?”

The idiots laughed, Hawke answering for them, “See where the wind takes us.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Isabela threw out.

Death. Dismemberment by a cougar. Starvation. Poisoned by berries. Poisoned by Ivy. Kicked in the head by a deer you apparently want to chase. Cullen had a long list at his disposal, but he shook it all away. What did he care if these two came to an untimely end? It wasn’t his job to protect everyone.

Yawing, Alistair stretched his arms wide, one hand brushing against Cullen’s agitated shoulder before clasping to him. “Welp, I’m more beat than scrambled eggs. Say it’s time I use that tent that took ages to set up. You coming?” His eyes burned into Cullen’s but he wouldn’t look away from the pair.

“What about the fire? Someone should put it out and wait for any errant embers, before…”

“It’s fine,” Hawke said, “we’ll get it when we’re done.”

Cullen snorted, “As if I’m going to entrust my…” Hands locked around his shoulders, Alistair struggling to yank him to his feet.

“Okay then!” the idiot shouted to Hawke and Isabela as if he seriously thought those two wouldn’t burn down the entire forest on accident. “Thanks so much!” His vice-like grip wouldn’t give for anything, Cullen forced to trail behind him towards the two-man tent they’d both carried for five hours up the mountain.

“No, thank you for the lighter, and the fire. It was great meeting you,” Hawke shouted.

Cullen turned back, wanting to lay out how unimpressed he was about having to meet them, but Alistair gave a good shove and he tumbled into the tent and landed on his ass hard. The sleeping bag did little to curb his fall. Those idiots didn’t even think to bring one of those, only a single blanket between them and the hard, muddy ground. Perhaps hookworm would get them in the end.

Zipping up the tent behind him, Alistair’s silhouette butted close to Cullen’s face as he whispered, “What’s got you tied into a Gorton Fisherman knot?”

“Gordian…never mind,” Cullen growled. “Them,” he pointed to the silhouettes near the fire, “No, you!”

“Me? What’d I do now? This was all your idea, which I was kind enough to go along with. Bugs adore me, you know. They line up for miles just to get a bite on the ol’ Alistair buffet, but I came along anyway 'cause you asked.”

“But it wasn’t supposed to involve them. Any them. And you just walk on up and say 'Hi, want to use all of our stuff because you’re like newborn babes out here?’”

Alistair snorted, only causing Cullen to snarl more, “What?”

“Nothing, forget I said or did anything. Just gonna curl up in my private sleeping chambers all alone,” he reached for his sleeping bag while Cullen fumed.

This was not what he had in mind. It started out that way, the trail proving rather forgiving for a bright day even as exhaustion began to set in. He hadn’t been out camping in too long, his back not used to the weight of the pack. But the freedom afforded him a calm he almost never got in the city.

Then they showed up. Doddering fools trying to pluck berries from a bush. Cullen muttered they were poisonous and intended to keep walking, but that damn idiot at his side had to intervene. They weren’t deathly poisonous, just knot your insides into a bow for a few hours to make you regret eating them. It was a learning experience. And now they were stuck with them, for who knew how long, suckering off of their supplies like leeches. Leeches making very…wet and slippery noises outside?

“What is that?” Cullen asked, glancing at where he’d originally spotted Hawke and Isabela’s shadows sitting. They seemed to be gone even as the fire blazed. So much for putting it out.

Alistair rose from his bed, a hand holding his head up, when a very feminine and very loud moan broke from outside. Oh Maker. A blush burned up Cullen’s cheeks, while Alistair laughed, “Well, when a boy and girl love each other very much…”

“I know what…” Cullen coughed, growing more uncomfortable at how vocal Isabela was. His face was burning, Cullen yanking up his blanket and hurling it down repeatedly as he couldn’t find any way to escape the awkwardness.

A cool hand rubbed against his back, then found its way under his shirt to cup against the skin. “You know,” Alistair breathed, that ornery breath wafting against the nape of Cullen’s neck, “I bet you’d enjoy this trip a lot more if you yanked that stick out of your ass…” His palm swooped forward to dig under Cullen’s waistband, “and put something else in it.”

Laughter rumbled in Cullen’s chest as his head dropped down, “Maker help me,” he whispered to himself before turning to Alistair, “but I think you’re right.”

Grabbing onto the pain-in-the-ass and shoving him onto his back, Cullen intended to give Hawke and Isabela a run for their money all night long.

#cullen rutherford #cullen x alistair #hawke x isabela #dragon age summer #grumpy cullen #camping #bit of fun #fic request #submission

[mayonara]

can i ask for Robin!Jay meeting Dick for the first time and having an instantanous crush and maybe trying to impress him but Dick being jerk at first for being the new Robin but then later treats him better? I don't know I was imagining this taking place in Nightwing Year One? (sorry for my english, love your works! '-')

Thanks so much for the prompt *^* So this takes place duringNightwing Year One by Chuck Dixon. Ofc some of the events/things changed a bitto fit the story. And it might have turned out a bit more angsty (at least forDick) than I expected. Because I didn’t like how Bruce treated him (and yes, Iam bitter about that because Dick is such a good boy). Anyways here it is!I hope you like it.

Also posted on AO3

Jason wasn’t expecting torun into the original Robin on his gauntlet run, his first test to being Robin.He actually didn’t realize it was him until a couple minutes in, just thoughthe was some wannabe superhero in blue tights. Only that it turned out that it was him, the first Robin. The one he was replacing.

Needless to say just basedon first impression, Jason was a bit smitten. The man, he was drop-dead gorgeous. Just absolutely gorgeous even in that ridiculous lookingoutfit with a blue so bright, showing every inch of his body, all the curves ofhis muscles, so taut and beautiful. Something that Jason aspired to be when hegrew up.

Just, he couldn’t exactlysee his face clearly with that mask obscuring his eyes, but it was apparentthat he was handsome.

So yeah, Jason was just a tadawed by him, not that he was going to admit it. But he figured since he was thenew Robin, maybe he could surprisehim, show-off and display to him that he’s worthy of his mantle.

Though the first wordsthat slipped from his mouth when he realized he was the first Robin probablywasn’t the most pleasant

“You're old…you're him.“ 

And the man who he knew asDick Grayson stared at him, appalled. 

“You’re what?” He questioned and Jason justsmirked at him as he shot out a line.

“The new Robin,”he said and then swung off the roof.

Apparently, Dick didn’tknow he’d been replaced, and to his surprise, he didn’t reprimand or yell athim like a petty adult to give it back or anything. Though he supposed hewasn’t exactly at fault, hence, he couldn’t be blamed. But when Jason blurtedthat he was on a gauntlet run, Dick seemed a bit freaked and followed afterhim.

“Look! I don’t needyour help,” Jason growled, annoyed. “I can handle this myself. I’mpretty capable,” he said in full confidence, squared his shoulders allproud. 

“Sure you can. I betyou’re inexperienced. Where did he find you anyways?” Dick askedskeptically and he sounded a bit condescending.

Okay, so maybe he might bea little angered that he’d been replaced. Anyone would really.

“The streets,”Jason answered and landed on his feet, folded his arms across his chest in fullconfidence, attempting to challenge Dick slightly. “So I already haveexperience,” Jason smirked and Dick just sighed heavily at him. 

“Well get overyourself, Robin is not a—” And Jason just ignored him, jumped off thebuilding to land on the other. “Hey!”Dick called and continued chasing after him. 

They ended on a high speedchase across the roofs as Jason tried to show off his skills, wanting to earnhis approval, wanting Dick to complement and praise him as he jumped and leaptfrom building across building, revealing that he had what it took to be Robin.

“Robin!” Dickcalled out. “You’re being damn reckless!” He hissed as he was comingup hot behind Jason and then reached out to grab his cape.

“Ugh!” Jasongroaned as the collar around his neck snapped back and he fell onto his butt.“Hey!” he shouted a bit angrily and stared up at the man who waslooking back down at him, lips forlorn and seemed a bit moody. “I’m on atest here! Stop interrupting!” Jason barked back.

Dick all but groaned andpinched the bridge of his nose frustratingly. “Look here—” hestarted, but Jason was suddenly interrupted by a call from Bruce and he soundedrather haggard. 

“Batman?” Jasonasked as the man mumbled into his ears, something about Alfred being caught.“What? Abort the mission?” And then his communication piece wasstolen, snatched from his ear.

Dick had taken it as helistened in and blurted, “Then what was the point? To rub my nose in itwith your new brat wonder?” Thetone in his voice was sharp, harsh even and he sounded upset, disappointmentclear in his words. 

His brows were pressedtogether into a thin line as he scowled, listening to Bruce. But then suddenly,he’d relax just a smidge as a look of horror swiftly replaced his expression.“Alf is—?” He asked and then nodded his head in agreement tosomething that probably pertained to the butler. He tossed the earphone back atJason carelessly as the teen tried to catch it. 

“What’s wrong withAlf?” Jason questioned curiously.

“We got to savehim,” Dick said and rushed off ahead of Jason as the teen squabbled to hisfeet to follow after him. 

“Hey wait forme!” Jason called out.

“Go home kid!”Dick shouted back as he unrelentingly moved forth, leaving Jason behind, and didn’teven wait a single second for him to catch up. 

That was just rude, Jasonthought and huffed loudly as he struggled to stay on par with the man. He wastoo fast, too agile, jumping across every building with ease. It was a wonderhe hadn’t been able to swiftly catch up to him earlier because right now, Dickwas moving with speed, moving a lot better than Jason and quicker too. The teenwas trailing behind and he cursed himself for doubting his predecessor. Obviouslyhe had the experience and the training while Jason barely had any, just a few months’worth. 

He knew that Dick wasangry, could just see it in him now, how he’d been back talking to him, talkinghim down as if he wasn’t worthy of Robin. Treating him like a kid who knewnothing when Jason had lived through so much.Left him behind even though it was hismission, and this was his gauntlet.

Dick probably didn’t evenknow what he was looking for since Jason knew that Alfred was currently playingas a villain. He’d need his help if he wanted to successfully save the butler.

It took him a while buthe’d finally caught up with Dick and dropped beside him onto the rooftop of thewarehouse.

“Surprised you caughtup with me, Robin.”

There was a bit ofirritation in his tone when he’d said his name but Jason brushed it off.“It was easy,” he said even though he was breathing heavily,attempting to catch his breath.

Dick just shook his head atthe teen strode forward, ignoring him as he leaned down to peer into therooftop windows. Jason watched closely, walking up to his side before the manscrunched his nose and turned away. “Not there,” he murmured and thenroughly grabbed Jason by the cape, tugging him along as he went to check outall the other windows.

“Hey thathurts!” Jason argued, attempting to fight back against him and struggledto get free of his hold when suddenly, he was released and tumbled back on hisheels, lost his footing and fell to the ground in an oomph.

Dick didn’t say a word,didn’t even look at Jason as the teen was huddled on the ground, rubbing hissore ass and pressing his palms to the cement floor to stand back up. Instead,he was just minding his own business and observing down below. “There’sour culprit,” Dick whispered into the cold air, and Jason could see awhite puff of air slipping from his lips.

Jason slowly dragged hisfeet towards the man and peered in with him as well, found a body strapped to achair. He squinted his eyes, zooming in on the culprit and found that it wasTwo-Face.

“Ah—” Jason murmured,but was cut off when Dick slapped a hand over his mouth. The man turned to lookat him and brought a finger to his lips, hushing Jason up. 

“Let’s go,” hesaid and released his hold as he moved to sneak into the building. Jasonswiftly followed after, climbing in through the window and falling onto thesupport beam. Carefully, he mimicked Dick’s movements and tried to balancehimself well, waiting for the guards to exit the room before they dropped down.

Immediately, Dick went upto the figure, probably expected it to be Alfred, but found someone else.Someone he wasn’t quite a fan of. 

“You,” Dick hissed and brought his hand up into a tight fist,ready to land a punch on the man known as Two-Face.

But Jason knew that thiswasn’t who he thought it was and jumped to curl his hands around Dick’s arm,pulling with all his strength as he held the man back, didn’t want him to makethe mistake of punching his dear ol’ butler.

Dick started questioninghim, asking for Alfred, but the villain just smirked and said, “I thoughtI raised you to display better manners, Master Richard,” in that sarcasticBritish accent of his.

“Wha—?“ 

And then Dick stopped,faltering as a look of confusion filled his face. The strength in his armslackened as he pulled back, probably realizing who this person wasexactly. 

"Hey!” Jason called,could hear footsteps in the distance. “They’re coming!”

And swiftly, they ran offto hide in the shadows of the room, waiting for the right moment to pounce asthe men arrived before Alfred. The witty butler said a few lines andimmediately, Dick took charge and jumped out from his hiding space as heattacked one of the men, landing a kick to his face. 

Jason followed suitbecause that’s all he seemed to be doing these days and helped assist him inhis fighting, beating up the culprits before Killer Croc arrived in theroom. 

“Killer Croc,” Dick snarled and readied himself to battleagainst the human-reptile. He was carrying a bazooka in hand and was beckoningat Alfred, who he thought was Harvey Dent, to come forward and give himself inbut Alf being Alf, revealed himself with his British accent and confused thenew creature.

And he took that as ataunt and fired his bazooka, which Alfred was swift to react and jumped him,caused him to falter back, losing his footing and firing at the ceiling. Crumbsof the building fell from the sky and onto the ground and from the corner ofJason’s eyes, he could see Croc retreating into the back rooms and Nightwingfollowing after him. 

Jason left Alfred behind,seeing that the butler could manage his own and was already tying up loose endsand entered the room that Nightwing and Croc had disappeared into.

“Hey,” Jasoncalled and came up right behind Dick. The man just clicked his tongue at himand gestured for him to leave, but Jason didn’t. If he was going to act thisway, hate on him just because he took his mantle, then he was going to doeverything within his power to impress Dick. To make him see that he wasworthy.

So he sucked in a largebreath and shouted loudly into the vicinity of the room. “Hey Gatorbutt!You still here?!” And Dick immediately glared at him from the side.

“You—!”

But then Croc responded,“You should have run,” he growled, voice low and deep as he picked upa stack of crates and tossed them towards the two. 

Jason jumped to dodge theattack and successfully landed on his feet without falling over. He pumped afist triumphantly but then was caught off guard as another crate was flung hisway. He quickly dodged it and another was flung at him. It was coming in toofast, too quick for him to escape, but luckily he was saved by Dick as heshoved him off to the side. 

“Damn it Robin!”He cursed. “I told you to stay out,” he grumbled and placed a hand athis chest, huddling in front of him as he shielded Jason.

For a guy who he thoughthated him, he was sure being protective. And Jason wasn’t about to allowhimself to be treated like a helpless kid when he’s supposed to be the newRobin, the partner to Batman.

“I can handlethis!” Robin argued and Dick just sighed, frustration evident on his facewith how tight his lips were and the slight wrinkles forming on his forehead.

“Fine,” hemumbled. “Follow me,” he instructed and leapt to attack Croc.

Dick moved like the wind,his body flowing fluidly as he twirled and jumped, tossing kicks and punchesthat resembled a beautiful dance. His moves were flawless and he dealt each hitwith precision, with skill and prowess. He was amazing and his movements were lightas a feather, seeming as if he barely had to put any weight. It was differentthan watching Batman fight, who fought like a brawler with strength and vigorin ever punch.

Dick was different and hewas just so damn beautiful that Jason was star struck, feet rooted to theground as he gazed ashamedly at the man. He didn’t move a single inch untilDick called his name and snapped the teen out of his daze. Jason shook his headand found Croc about to chuck a huge cabinet at them. He lifted a foot forward,ready to bolt out of the way but then suddenly, a motorbike flew into his wayand took Croc to the ground.

“Boys,” a light and feminine voice filtered into the mix andJason caught sight of Batgirl standing off to the side.

Dick just heaved a longsigh and threaded his fingers through his sweat soaked hair. “Nicesave,” he mumbled under his breath and moved to approach her, engaging herin a conversation that was held for just themselves.

As they were busy cleaningup, chaining Croc down so he’d be ready for the police to pick up, Alfredappeared.

“The Master is awakeand request your presence,” he simply spoke and eyed them allindividually. “Everyone,” he added sternly, implying that all thatwere present needed to go.

Dick said nothing, butjust tossed a glance at Alfred and pulled his lips into a small smile, a forcedone. “I’ll ride with Batgirl,” he said and Alfred just shrugged hisshoulders nonchalantly, unsurprised by his question.

“Then I will takeRobin home,” he said and Jason all but threw his hands up in the air andswiftly disappeared. He’d wanted Dick to ride with them, but didn’t see that happeningso he figured he’d steal a car for the ride home.

Jason honestly wasn’texpecting Dick to show up at the manor but he did and that was quite asurprise. Actually more surprised to see him in the flesh and unmasked.

He was as beautiful asJason had expected and he could feel his poor little heart beating rapidly,butterflies floating around in his stomach. 

When Dick had arrived, theexpression on his face was dark and Bruce didn’t look any different. He wascovered in bandages, sitting on his chair with his arms crossed, leveling thoseblue eyes of his at Dick as the man kept his distance.

“Everyone out,”Bruce said and looked at all participates, signaling for them to leave. Jasonwas reluctant but he followed Alfred out, only to renter the cave once he wasout of sight. He crawled to the shadows of the cave and hid behind one ofBatman’s souvenirs to keep himself out of sight as he listened in on theconversation.

Well, he was waiting forthem to actually start speaking. There was a heavy silence that filled the air,spreading thin across the atmosphere. It was tense and even made Jason feelnervous. The teen sighed softly, trying to be patient with his emotions. Hewanted to just jump out there and get them to talk already. As if his prayerwas answered, they started.

And the first to speak wasnot Bruce, but Dick.

“I can’t believe youreplaced me Bruce,” his voice sounded strained, almost hurt.

“You left,”Bruce simply stated and Dick all but growled loudly at that remark.

“You fired me,”he kept his tone leveled, was trying his hardest to not burst out at Bruce.

And Jason didn’t know thatDick had been fired. Just assumed he was too old and that Bruce stripped themantle from him and gave it over to Jason. But that was—that wasn’t right.That’s just—

“You were neglectingyour Robin duties.”

“I was—” hehuffed loudly. “I was not Bruce.I was there, but I can’t be there allthe time. I had other duties to uphold.” 

"That shouldn’tmatter. You are Batman’s partner and Robin should be your priority.”

“Bruce!” Heshouted, giving into his anger. “That’s not—god damn. We’re having the same conversation as last time.”And then there was a pause as both of them collected themselves. “I—I’m upset,” Dick murmured, finallyletting out his true feelings. “I thought I was your partner.”

“I thought you were mine.”

“I was. Obviously that wasn’t the case because you went and replaced me with some new kid. God damn it Bruce, if youjust wanted a new Robin then fine, you could have told me. But to have me findout this way? That after you fired me, you gave away my mantle? Mine? That I created on my own. That Iused my families colors for?”

And in that moment, Jasonrealized that this wasn’t a conversation he should be listening in on. That itwas far too private for him to hear,that his mentor and his predecessor had a long history together that resultedin a terrible falling out. That Robin wasn’t given to him just because hedeserved it or that Dick wasn’t good anymore. It was because Dick was too busyto be Robin full-time. To be Batman’s Robin full-time.

He sucked in a shakybreath and leaned out to peer at the two, could see Dick’s shoulders shakinguncontrollably, trying to hold in his emotions before he burst any further. Andthe look on Bruce’s face? That look was—wasn’t something Jason had seen before.He almost looked heartbroken, almost torn about his actions.

“Dick—” Bruce called softly and then paused, fingers curlinginto tight fists as he struggled with what he wanted to say. “I—”

And this was somethingthat Jason shouldn’t be hearing. If it was an apology, it wasn’t meant for him,wasn’t meant for his ears. So before Bruce could say anymore, Jason plugged hisears and swiftly left, disappearing from the cave and reentered the manor.

Whatever they had goingbetween them was for them and them only.

Jason was just hanging outin the living room, watching TV as he stuffed his face with popcorn, courtesyof Alfred. He’d had a huge bowl in his lap and a large cup of tea sitting offto the side on the table. He’d actually wanted soda but Alfred had rejectedthat, said it wasn’t healthy for a growing boy and he needed to maintain hisgood and bad calories. Jason frowned at that but accepted it anyways as foodwas a delicacy for him.

As he continued to passthe time, watching some cartoons, he heard soft footsteps approaching him andturned his head to see the newcomer.

It wasn’t who he expectedit to be.

“D-Dick?” He stuttered and almost dropped his popcorn to theground as the bowl slipped from his lap. But Dick was quick and snatched theside as he pushed it back in to settle securely on his thighs.

“Hey…Jasonright?” Dick asked with a soft smile and Jason could see his eyes were abit red-rimmed, slightly glistening with tears. He looked like he’d been cryingand Jason wouldn’t be surprised if he was. The two were in the cave for a long long time and hopefully, they’d had asuccessful talk and resolved their issues. From the looks of it, they mighthave.

“Right, JasonTodd,” Jason replied and nodded his head.

Dick just puffed a breathand took a seat right beside the teen, leaving just a bit of space in betweenthem. He’d settle his attention on Jason, vivid blue eyes slightly glassy andhe sniffled a bit. “Uh—” he started and licked a tongue over his chappedlips. “I wanted to say—” he was having trouble forming his thoughtsinto words, was probably delaying what he wanted to say exactly.

“What?” Jasonprompted, wanted him to just spit it out.

And Dick sucked in a longsigh and breathed out. “Sorry,” Dick said, apologizing to the teenand hung his head in shame.

“Huh?” Jasonarched a brow, confused about his sudden apology.

“I’m sorry,”Dick repeated.

“For what?”

“For…youknow,” he said and made a hand gesture at the teen, like he was supposedto know what he was referring to. He had a feeling but he wasn’t going to say.“For being mean to you. I’m sorry I treated you badly. I was disorientedat the bit of news.”

“You mean mad right?” Jason said, wasn’tgoing to sugarcoat his words since that was the honest truth.

Dick just smiled at him inamusement and moaned softly, scrubbed a hand down his face. “Yeah. I guessI was. I mean, not at you. More at Bruce.”

“I see,” Jasonreplied since he knew that to be the case. “I suppose you have a right tobe mad at him.” He wasn’t about to say why since he wasn’t supposed toknow.

Tears brimmed at thecorner of Dick’s eyes and his face scrunched in agony, almost as if he wantedto cry again. But he drew in a large breath to calm himself down and thenchuckled. “Yeah. I do. He was a jerk,” he murmured under his breathbut the way he said it sounded fond and Jason could tell that there was nolonger any ill-feelings apparent in his expression. It was as if it’d beenwashed away and Jason sure hoped it did. If Bruce hadn’t apologized to him thendamn right he’s an asshole. And Jason would consider doing something just tospite him.

But it seemed to him thatthey had a talk and things had gone well. Dick appeared a bit brighter, morelight-heartened than when he’d first gone into the cave.

“I guess he is a jerkconsidering he put me through so much training,” Jason agreed though hewas quite pumped about that. But the way he’d lecture him after, not so much.

Dick just laughed andbrought a hand to ruffle his hair, messing up the curls that he’d put so mucheffort into taming 

“Hey!” he criedand attempted to slap Dick’s hand a way, but didn’t. He actually liked the feelof his long fingers threading through his hair, it felt soft and warm, soothingto the touch. 

A rosy pink dusted hischeeks and he could feel heat filtering onto his face. 

“Ugh,” hegroaned softly.

“You’re okay Little Wing,” Dick murmured andretracted his hand back to his lap.

Jason’s eyes widened atthe man as he stared at him in confusion while Dick just smiled at him happily.Little Wing? Was that supposed to bea nickname for him? It was—it was a really stupid sounding name and sort ofinsulting to call him little but well, Jason didn’t mind it oddly enough. Hecould feel the heat on his face lighting up once more and scoffed, tried toplay off his embarrassment. Why was he even giving him nicknames in the firstplace?

Jason curled his lips intoa pout and sulked like a child, glaring dangerously at his predecessor. Dickjust laughed at him and pinched his cheek playfully. “You’re alright.Maybe I’ll take you out to train sometime.”

And suddenly, Jason’s eyeslit up like it was Christmas morning, excited about the present he was about toreceive. “Really?”

Dick arched a brow at himin amusement, surprise gracing his expression at Jason’s sudden interest and hesmirked. “Yeah,” he said lightly.

And Jason was just beyond thrilled,could feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through his body. He wanted to startnow, couldn’t believe that the former Robin was going to train him. But he hadto play it cool, didn’t want to come off as an overly enthusiastic kid so heschooled his expression. “That's—that’s cool,” he said but his facefaltered and he heard his voice crack, cringed at how he’d just embarrassedhimself.

Dick just laughed andrustled his hair once more.

Ugh, this was going to be theend of him.

#jaydick #prompt fill #robin!jay #nightwing year one #dick grayson #jason todd #fanfic #my writing #pre-slash #ask box

[ryanmeft]

Every Classic Mega Man Weapon Ranked, Part 2

To gamers who were young in the ancient 80's, game characters were iconic in a way that modern kids, with a veritable plethora of types of games to choose from, simply cannot fathom. We stomped on Goombas with the Super Mario Bros. We fought Ganon with our sword and our wits.  We plumbed the depths of alien planets with a hard-bitten bounty hunter. We even occasionally played things that weren't made by Nintendo, like that one really fast guy from that one company. What was his name? Was it Speedy? Oh yeah! Good 'ole Speedy the Hedgehog. Even with all these iconic characters, one stood out for letting you do something no one else did: taking your enemy's weapon, and ripping them a new asshole with it. Mario didn't do that. Link didn't do that. Speedy certainly didn't do that. Capcom seems to have forgotten about the Blue Bomber lately, but on Monday they're going to announce...some Mega Man thing. We don't know what yet. Hopefully it's cool. Anyway, to celebrate the 30th anniversary of the original Mega Man, here's part two of my list ranking every Mega weapon in the classic series. You can find part 1 here: http://ryanmeft.tumblr.com/post/168077242247/every-classic-mega-man-weapon-ranked-part-1. And part 3 here: http://ryanmeft.tumblr.com/post/168173192902/every-classic-mega-man-weapon-ranked-part-3 And the last part: http://ryanmeft.tumblr.com/post/168197639092/every-classic-mega-man-weapon-ranked-part-4

53. Quick Boomerang (MM2) It's a boomerang. Just a boomerang. I used to like standing around firing them and watching them return to me, because I was 8, and stupid.

52. Flame Sword (MM8) It's exactly what it says it is. After years of shitting out seriously crappy melee weapons, this one...well, it wasn't especially useful, but it wasn't godawful, either. And wouldn't you know it? Just when Capcom seemed to be inching toward doing it right, they figured out it was kind of pointless to do at all. They could have tumbled to that back in 1990 and saved a lot of kids a lot of disappointment.

51. Yamato Spear (MM6) This one could be rapid fired, but it is otherwise just an arrowhead that you can shoot. "Yamato" is a word that means "Japan". Isn't it kind of really, really sad that this is the coolest thing a Japanese developer could think to give to a boss literally named Japan Man? 50. Concrete Shot (MM9) File this one under "cooler in theory than in practice". The ability to encase enemies in stone sounds cool (and slightly insane), but visually, all it really does is replace the enemy sprite with a rock.

49. Thunder Bolt (MM7) Almost every MM game has one or two weapons that are just filler---not offensively useless, but not odd enough to stand out, either. For Mega Man 7, this one filled that apparent need.

48. Bubble Lead (MM2) The original travel-along-the-floor weapon. How, exactly, does one make a bubble out of lead without breaking science? It was the only way to deal with lots of annoying ground enemies, though, so we'll forgive the bastardization of the laws of nature this once.

47. Wind Storm (MM6) Oh, sweet. We literally get to shoot a tornado and why is it tiny? Why is it just moving along the ground? Wind Storm is technically a tornado, but it's a little like the fact that a poodle is technically a dog; that still doesn't make it cool.

46. Needle Cannon (MM3) It fires big spikes. You can't get much more straight forward. Unless the enemy was weak against it, it wasn't very much fun, but it wasn't annoying, either.

45. Freeze Cracker (MM7) Seemingly unable to make an ice weapon that was actually cool, Dr. Wily settled for merely functional. This one is basically useful for shattering on walls to hit shielded enemies from behind, and you don't have to do that often enough for it to be awesome.

44. Blizzard Attack (MM6) Much like the Silver Tomahawk, this one has a rather incomprehensible flight path. It works fine if your aim is right, but it's just too easy for the odd pattern to miss.

43. Napalm Bomb (MM5) Imagine if some daycare mistook this for a bouncy toy.

42. Hornet Chaser (MM9) This one may make me think of a hive of bees nesting in Mega Man's chest, but it's still rather unfairly maligned. It isn't very powerful, but it's great for taking out small, annoying enemies, and sometimes it brings you presents. The only thing real hornets bring you is inexplicably dark endings to early 90's Macauley Culkin movies.

41. Flash Stopper (MM4) Capcom's to-date last experiment with halting the flow of time, and that's probably a good thing. This one allows Mega Man to still fire standard shots while time is stopped, but not to use any other weapons. That's an improvement, but the only way for this power to be as cool as it sounds is to allow you total freedom while it's active, and that's more power than any 'bot needs. Think of the children, or something.

40. Danger Wrap (MM7) Every now and then, Capcom comes up with something that is totally original, and so it was with this weapon, which wrapped up enemies in a bubble that then exploded. It was cool when it worked right, but it was so picky on which enemies would actually bubblesplode that it wasn't very useful.

39. Crystal Eye (MM5) Are you actually firing a robot's eye here? How does this work? Whatever. Ahem. This is basically the concept behind the Gemini Laser, but occasionally useful. It splits into four little ping pong balls, and chances are one of them will hit something.

38. Ring Boomerang (MM4) I'm not sure how a ring would return when thrown. I mean, it isn't special. It isn't the One Ring. It isn't even a diamond ring. It's just a hoop of gold. Maybe it's magnetized. Anyway, this one actually lays the smack down pretty hard when it hits. Short range, unfortunately, hampers its usefulness.

37. Shadow Blade (MM3) This was like Metal Blade, except you couldn't throw it in any direction, it had a limited range and it ate up more weapon energy. It was a Metal Blade that didn't work as well, which, you know, as pitches go, that's unique.

36. Knight Crusher (MM6) This is like the Rolling Cutter, but you can kind of aim it a little bit. Look, let's just call it what it is: Mega Man 6 really phoned it in. Most of the weapons weren't terrible, per se, but they were the textbook example of a developer who no longer cares. Sure, it's hard to blame them. The NES was basically dead by this point. It doesn't change the fact that "slightly better Rolling Cutter" is the best MM6 had to offer.

35. Leaf Shield (MM2) The original shield weapon was super useful, as long as you stood still. Somehow, though a shield made of flowers disappeared the moment someone farted in the general vicinity, one made of leaves did not. However, once you moved it flew away, and likely drifted harmlessly to the ground the moment it hit anything bigger than a politician's soul. Capcom would spend the rest of the series figuring out how to make a truly useful shield.

34. Search Snake (MM3) This one was nice for for getting those hard to reach enemies, but let's pause for a moment. Mega Man is shooting snakes out of his arm. Where are the snakes coming from? Is he generating them inside his gut? Is there a hatchery in there? To anyone about to explain to me that they are robot snakes I KNOW THAT IT IS CALLED HUMOR

33. Noise Crush (MM7) This one is powerful, but just...strange. Think on it. The technology to simply charge weapons directly is already in widespread use, and Wily decides it would be better if you had to do it via table tennis. Strange.

And that’s it for part 2 of the list, in which we went from the weapons that were just boring rather than actively useless to those that are fun to play around with but mostly too strange to hit your regular rotation. Next we’ll be dealing with the weapons that you actually go looking for in the pause screen, and in part 4 on Monday, the best weapons in Mega Man history!

#nintendo #sega #mario #Super Mario #super mario bros #Metroid #samus #link #the legend of zelda #ganon #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #Mega Man #mega man 2 #mega man 3 #mega man 4 #mega man 6 #mega man 7 #mega man 9 #weapons #video games #lists #list #1980's #retro

[hoxooster]

Why is payday 2 a love hate type of game?

Because of OVERKILL.

Payday 2 is a pretty great game. Some iffy bits, but otherwise a rather solid experience. Fun as hell with friends - even asshole ones who like to get everyone killed. Just run, jump, shoot, and get them fat stacks before the cops get ya. Awesome.

But then, OVERKILL. OVERKILL with their hype trains and their Almirs and their ;)s and their console re-releases and their backhanded words to their fanbase and their questionable practices and… I’m just… I’m so tired.

I’ve watched a lot of the older fans leave the fandom. So many ‘Uninstall Payday 2?’ posts after that one Crimefest. Broken hearts everywhere. I see a few people from the ‘good ol’ days’ hanging on, which is kind of cool. Nice to know I’m not the only oldtimer that’s still here, but they’ve also obviously moved on to other things. I mean, I have too--not that you can tell with my blog, ‘cause this is a payday-and-related-shizz-only blog, after all. But it still happened. Most of my main Crew gave up on Payday a long time ago. I don’t even read OVERKILL’s announcements anymore.

I love Payday 2, I do. It’s brought me a lot of good: some laughs, a few lasting friendships, a LOT of amazing music--well done Simon & co. and all of you countless fan composers, and something that I could look forward to at the end of the day, be it in-game or on Tumbles. And I’ll keep playing Payday 2, just not as religiously as I used to. ‘Cause, hell, as of this writing, I haven’t played PD2 in over a month, and before then, I don’t even remember how long I went without playing.

It’s like… leaving a building because the commentator inside is shouting a lot of things that piss you off to no end or just hurt you emotionally, but you stare in through the window, ‘cause you’re still a part of the things that’re going on. And then, over time, you start to look away from the window to look at other things. You still turn your head to look back in the building from time to time, but you’re glancing away more often than not.

It’s a slow death of love for a really fun game, the rising hatred for the parent company that seems to do everything they do JUST to piss all over their fans, and then the following apathy and desertion of a fanbase piece by piece. Some have come back, true, and there’s always those surges of new players every now and again. Marks that swallow OVERKILL’s bullshit for a while, but it always seems to end the same.

So, yeah, Payday 2 is a love/hate game, all because OVERKILL handles everything related to the game with as much caution as a stampede of elephants in a glass warehouse--and they care just as much about the fallout as the elephants do for the shattered glass. Which is to say, not at all.

#ask hoxooster a question #PAYDAY 2 #PD2 #fan experience

[yourgoodfriendraichel]

4, 10, 50, 27, 17 for the oc ask thing 😙

You got it! Let’s party, people! (Also, I put the asks in numerical order for convenience) Also, it’s a bit long, just fair warning.

Ask me about my OCs!

4.) A character you rarely talk about?

- I’m pretty quiet about my OCs in general, so an argument could be made for literally any of my characters. I mean, I avoid speaking of some of my earlier OCs, including a gender-fluid, car-loving robot, and a reasonably over-powered pokemon OC (though at least she had weaknesses, even if I wasn’t inclined to use them). I don’t know how often I talk about my Magical Matriarchy? They’re based on games I used to play with My Little Ponies (G3) as a kid, and it’s just this huge family set-up. There’s also a not-super-fleshed out idea about magical kids who find out they’re magic when their animal familiar appears to them. 

10.) Introduce an OC with a complicated design?

- I’m gonna’ be honest, I don’t think about characters’ designs too terribly much. But the Magical Matriarchy all have multicolored hair, so that’s a little over the top, and as far as drawing or thinking out the designs in one of my newer stories, which takes place in a medieval/fantasy style setting, there are way more (and less familiar) pieces than I usually think about. So, as an example of each:

- Raina, the queen of (unnamed magical land), has hair that is literally the colors of the rainbow, and probably wears blue, potentially complex dresses to events.

- and Lona, star of my newest story, in her casual wear probably has on at least undergarments, some kind of shirt, a vest-type thing over that, a belt, like, three pants layers probably, boots, and a cape just FULL of pockets.

- OK, honestly, I think the take-away here is that I don’t have any especially complicated designs.

17.) Any OC OTPs?

- The longest piece I’ve ever finished was about a robot/android girl and her human gf, and they were super cute together and fit each other perfectly. Lona and Leigh, my newest main characters, are also pretty great together, but I think I’m going to write the story without them explicitly getting together, and then I also have this fake power ranger team, and Tanya and Jade, my red and yellow rangers, are old friends and real cute together. They’re going to get together at the end of the (super hypothetical) first season. Neither one is straight (duh), but they’ve known each other for longer than they’ve known that, so neither one of them necessarily wants to put that friendship in jeopardy and/or they don’t want to assume the other would like them just ‘cause they like girls, but then, you know, life threatening scenarios are faced, and that’ll really bring some emotions forward.

27.) Any OCs that were inspired by a certain song?

- (You know me well, Flannel. This is a good question) Generally speaking a lot, if not most, of my characters are connected to a song, but I’m not sure how many were actually inspired by one. The only one I can think of for sure is Vivi. Vivi is from a story about six teenage girls who are chosen as champions for the greek goddesses (and are given powers/cool stuff to match) and the whole idea stemmed from a song, which led specifically to Vivi. 

- “Who is in your heart now” by Studio Killers gave me this idea of Aphrodite, goddess of love, singing the song in a nightclub, probably setting people up with magic and what-not, but given the design for Studio Killers’ lead singer, this particular mental image of Aphrodite was based off of that. From there, Vivi got the qualities of curvy Aphrodite as the goddess’s champion as the idea of the champions developed, and Aphrodite kept the singer persona. 

50.) Give me the good ol' OC talk here. Talk about anything you want

- So many options, so little time! Anything carries so much possibility! Here’s what I’ll do! I’ll tell you about the songs that go with different OCs! (This is gonna’ be great. But also long, so for everyone’s sake it’s under the cut.)

- OK, just for a little order, I’m not going to talk about every OC ever, but I will talk about my favorites with the strongest connections to particular songs, and why.

- For the robot/human gfs I mentioned earlier (the robot’s name is Hope and the human’s name is Dakota) there were a couple of songs that were super intwined with their story for me: Porter Robinson’s Sad Machine, and Riptide by Vance Joy. Dakota takes Hope under her wing when Hope’s mother/creator is arrested, and some major themes in Sad Machine work really well with that (basically the whole song being about a (maybe) robot girl + “she depends on you” thing is at the heart of both the song and the story, I feel), and in a similar vein Riptide overlays on Dakota’s perspective of the whole story, losing the sort of authority figure that Hope’s mother was to Dakota as well as the possibility of losing Hope, whom she quickly becomes very close to, ties in with the whole “running down to the riptide/left hand man” kind of ideas and the “wanna’ know if you’re gonna’ stay” (and the thematic similarities of “singing that song” with the multiple songs tied into the story, and “there’s this movie that I think you’d like” with Dakota showing Hope a bunch of movies for the first time.) (if any of this has piqued your interest, I posted the first couple chapters here. It’s not my best work, but it’s something.)

- And my newest awesome duo, Lona and Leigh, also have a couple songs that work really well, including King and Lionheart by Of Monsters and Men, and, oddly enough for a fantasy story, that 80s hit Everybody Wants to Rule the World, originally by Tears for Fears (but the first link is to the cover I’ve been using to keep the ol’ inspiration up. Sorry not sorry.) King and Lionheart works well because it works (to some extent) from both characters’ perspectives. Lona is actual royalty, so Leigh feels a need to protect/be there for her, but also Lona is a fighter, and Leigh really kind of isn’t, so she also feels the need to protect him, and yadda yadda yadda. Then both songs have similar lines that apply to the two of them: “there’s a room where the light won’t find you/holding hand while the walls come tumbling down/when they do I’ll be right behind you” in Everybody Wants to Rule the World, and “when the world comes to an end/I’ll be here to hold your hand” in King and Lionheart, that go with how much destruction each of their personal worlds have taken either before or during the story, and honestly my favorite thing about these two is that they’re there for each other, and that’s what I’m getting at. Also dealing with past horrors/trauma works well with King and Lionheart’s “howling ghosts, they reappear/and mountains that are stacked with fear.” The entire theme of Everybody Wants to Rule the World also works with the entire damn story, since it’s a royalty exiled type thing, so the villain takes over Lona’s kingdom, Lona’s gotta’ get it back, so on and so forth. Good songs. I like them very much.

- Some other honorable mentions include: Ke$ha’s Die Young for Vivi and Juno (Hera’s champion). Vivi is Juno’s first big, gay crush. It’s great. And Children of the Stars by The Orion Experience for my entire (fake) power ranger team. Their theme is constellations and pride flags and they’re all great. (I actually have a post about them here) 

- I think the takeaway here is that though I think I’m attaching songs to characters, they get more thoroughly stuck to a character or two (and also themes and plot points, but that’s a whole other thing and like 10 more songs.)

But that’s more than enough for today, and to anyone that read all this, thank you so much! Hope it was of literally any interest to you, and that you have a lovely day. 

Ask me about my OCs!

#OCs #my OCs #OC #Writing #Raichel Writes #ask #flannelandsarcasm

[moghraidhcaitriona-blog]

Ahoy, Maties!

I finally decided to make a formal first post after literally months of lurking and sending innumerable anons, so here goes nothing:

Onto my story. My handle @moghraidhcaitriona takes its inspiration from S02E08 “The Fox’s Lair”, from the scene where Jamie is pouring his heart out to wee Kitty and calls her mo ghraidh Caitriona. Yes, I know that Kitty is short for Katherine (Caitriona in Gaelic), but IMHO, that was a huge intentionally placed easter egg (I see you, Matt B.) hinting at our duo, hence my name.

I first found the OL series in April of ‘16. Having finished ASOIAF, the Farseer Trilogy, and others, and still madly craving historical fantasy, I stumbled upon this enormous series by Diana Gabaldon. I will admit, that at first, reading the Google description, this sounded like another trashy bodice-ripping series for depressed, unloved, mid-life crisis victims and was slightly turned off. Digging further, I came upon the first couple of eps of S2 which had just premiered. I watched them and my Obsessable brain was immediately captivated, hook, line, and sinker! Realizing that this was not, in fact, your average bodice-ripping fanfiction situation, but actu ally quite a nuanced and layered storyline, I immediately downloaded all 8 audiobooks (superbly narrated by Davina Porter. Seriously guys, check them out if you haven’t yet. They are amazing!) and have since listened to them twice already.

Meanwhile, the show was progressing, and I was in love! Our Jamie and Claire were amazing, the cast was amazing, EVERYTHING was amazing!  I love doing needless research, so as I do with most shows I watch, I looked up the actors right away. That’s how I found the gift that keeps on giving that is Sam and Cait. These two displayed what not only was a startling chemistry on-screen, but as I quickly discovered, an equally incendiary relationship off-screen. I binged ALL the available interviews (even IFH) and was hooked! Of course these two were together, no doubt about it. At that time, Sam and Caitriona were married, according to Google, so there was that as well.

I tell you, I tumbled (pun intended) down that rabbit hole so fast, there was no escape! Needless to say, it was the Dark Side that I came across first, as did most of you. I don’t know why that happens. Maybe they have better search optimization for “Sam Heughan girlfriend Caitriona Balfe” or maybe there’s just more of them. It’s truly puzzling. I don’t remember what they were discussing, as I’ve completely blocked that experience out since, but that’s how I found the deplorable shippers. There was so much light and happiness here, a place filled with truly kind and joyful people, so I stayed. This was right before Cannes, and I remember that everyone was speculating whether Sam would show up with Cait on the red carpet. Fact was, he didn’t and Tony did (99.9% convinced he’s Cait’s PA) but that didn’t stop me from shipping. @queencaitriona and @caitcrumbcake were among the first ones I “followed”. Yet, I kept seeing @jamesandclairefraser being reblogged by EVERYONE, so I went to check out her blog and found our amazing Jess, the awesome, confident, opinionated, generous lassie that she is! And the rest, as they say, is history.

The shippers here are such a source of positivity, even in the roughest seas. I think it says a lot about us and our “cause” that we are still here after all that’s been, with no intention (and let’s be honest, prospect, after the last couple of glorious weeks) of sinking. I love seeing the logical ( @cb4tb, @sherrigamblin, @tvuckic), the quietly confident ( @mama-tumblz, @sfidressage, @yellowfeather84), the wordsmiths ( @flocklander, @boyneriver, @fromheretoeternity1121) and of course, the squeeing ( @jamesandclairefraser, @queencaitriona, @balfeheughlywed) sides of this ship, to name just a few! Please forgive me if I’ve omitted you, each and every shipper has so much to add that this post would go on forever (not like it already has, ahem!).

I’m confident that something has shifted in the last couple of weeks, as many have pointed out, and that there are so much more goodies to come! I’m very much looking forward to SA and for ECCC, especially for those of you who are lucky enough to be there, and am so excited to see what happens!

Here concludes my unashamed, and fr*nkly blatant (see, I tagged so many people!), plea for followers, and I hope I haven’t just wasted two minutes of your time.

Thank you for making it this far in the post, and I will end with the obligatory

SHIP ON, SHIPSTERS!!!

P.S. I do have a wee theory on S/C which I will be posting soon, should you care to check it out.

#samcait #samxcait #sam x cait #samcaitriona #outlander #newshipperhere thanxforeadingthisfar