#spritz *.• dickie

[aeperol-spritz]

DICK GRAYSON who has you pressed cheek first into the window in the hotel room after the gala. Only in your heels and lace bra, his shirt unbuttoned and pants pulled down to free his cock. ‘you think he’d fuck you like this? huh?’ with one hand gripping your hip and the other planted on the window beside your head. The glass fogging around your body as he pistons relentlessly into you ‘don’t get quiet now, you had plenty to say at the gala with his hands all over you’. His tie wrapped around your wrists behind you as he calls you a slut for even letting another man put their hands on you.

[papabigtoes]

letz foite bruv

day 11 i chose FIGHTIN’

(doodles are under keep reading, warning of blud and spoilers)

When this episode ended i legit gasped i thought charles really wouldn’t come back i was SHOOK. I realize MMA says “The pain” but i thot “my pain” would be deeper for numbnut purposes

and now le scraps

The band should have a little spray bottle to spritz toki when he gets angry 

i love how his face scrunches up in the show and wanted to draw a lil pile of angry fightin toki faces

what if in s5/post requiem seth and pickles didn’t at all become like close, but like. made up and accepted the dickiness they had against eachother for the good of the world not being controlled by salacia or smth idk

they are wearing shades so they don't have to see each other’s eyes leaking and the lil 2 lb bell is to weigh down the chip log

[skeletonwoman]

J is for Judgement

This is a part 2! Comes after a part 1, and a part 1.5!!

You smile at Dick when he darkens the pet stores doorway.

“Hey baby, hey baby,” he greets and you snort, coming around the counter to give him a hug. You’ve never been much of a hugger, but hell, he’s just the cuddliest.

Also he smells like a tasty man.

Pulling apart, he leans against your counter, an attempt at being casual and you hide a smirk.

“So, bestie,” he begins and you waver in place. Luckily the space is empty apart from the two of you. “I’ve got a thing tonight, if you’re interested in coming.”

“Going out on the town with my bestie?” You begin, about to rain him in stupid compliments.

“Ah- not, the town…” He cuts in and you hum, wrinkling your brow. “Dami is throwing the dog a birthday party,” his tone drags the words as if it’s a chore, even though it sounds like tonight might be the best of your life, “and it’s just a small gathering, family and close friends. I was wondering…”

He gives you a sneaky look.

“Yeeees?” you sing-song back and he licks his lips, trying to hide smile.

“If you were interested…” His mouth drags the words out and you feel like you’re vibrating from the inside out.

“Innnnn?”

“Coming with me to the party tonight?”

“Yeah!” You shout, throwing your fists in the air and bouncing around in a circle before pulling up in front of him, dropping your excitement and blanking your face. “Yeah, sounds cool, no biggie, if you want, no prob, Bob.”

Dick beams at you, still leant against the counter. “They’re going to love you.”

“You bet your ass they will, Richie!” Your bravado has his expression softening with affection, even as your stomach flips with a sudden and crushing panic. Hiding this, you catch his hand in one of yours and swing them. “I am excited to meet Barbaraaaa.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes and grinning, before pushing off the counter and dragging you about the store.

“Help me get the damn dog a present, it can be from both of us, obviously,” he says, before muttering. “Dogs birthday party, Jason didn’t get a birthday party last year but the dog does?”

You don’t tell Dick about the guy today. You know he notes the scrawled number on your hand and he smiles a little, but when you don’t mention it, he doesn’t ask.

As you’re walking home, Dick having promised to pick you up later, you stare at your phone.

Debating.

Screw it.

Me: Hi, this is Y/N from the pet store, I didn’t get your name today

You wait ten seconds before shoving your phone into your pocket out of anxiety and instead focussing on tonights hellscape.

You have to make these people love you. You have to!

Ignoring the silence and stillness of your pocketed phone, you instead focus on reviewing what you know about Dicks family.

Surprisingly- little.

Honestly? You barely know anything about them.

Except:

               He has two dads, Alfred and Bruce

               He has four brothers, Jay, Tim, Duke and Damian

               He has two sisters, Steph and Cass.

               He has one not sister, Barbara, also his unrequited love

               He doesn’t have favourites between any of them.

Luckily, as you start up your stoop and your chest starts to heave, your phone vibrates in your pocket.

Unknown Number: I’m Jason

You wait. For something, anything.

After two minutes, you’ve entered your apartment and, phone still in hand, made your way to your closet.

After ten, you’ve set the phone back on your bed and are deciding between a red bodysuit and a yellow crop top.

After twenty, you’re in the shower and anxiously shaving your legs even though you’ve decided to wear long pants.

At the thirty minute mark, out of the shower with your hair wrapped but before you apply moisturiser, you pick up the phone and give in.

Me: What do you do, Jason?

Putting it back down, without much expectation, you pick up the moisturiser once more but pause when the device beeps again.

Jason: I’m a freelancer, mixed martial artist.

Jason: Do you like lunch? Or breakfast food.

You try to grin too wide at the messages. He seems a little… unsure, maybe. You’re into it.

Me: I love lunch, and breakfast- for lunch or breakfast. What do you think about dinner?

You nab your red bodysuit and slip yourself into it, then fight on your favourite pair of pink corduroy pants. Gazing at yourself in the mirror, you frown, look at your closet, frown harder.

No.

“You’re hot.” You growl to your mirror self. “I am hot. And I am loveable and tonight is going to be great and tomorrow you can go out with Jason and kiss that gorgeous face.”

His visage pops up before you, scarred and unusual.

You hope his scars are more innocent than- well, than other scars in this city.

Maybe he got them in the womb, or terrible acne that forms perfect lines.

Oh boy.

Jason: I usually work nights, late, and I’d hate to cut our night short because I need to get to work

Your lips purse.

Oh shit!

Dickard: I’m coming up, you better look hot

Shoving away your awful, awful, just awful realization, you look back up at yourself in the mirror and grimace. Throwing on a light coat of lipstick and a layer of mascara, finishing off the makeup you’d been wandering through while texting with-

No.

Leaping up, you grab your jacket- that guys jacket-

Oh hell, you’re so dumb.

Pushing out every thought to do with night time activities and vigilantes and, worse, villain criminals, you throw on the jacket, put your phone and wallet in the pockets, slip on some shoes and snatch your keys.

“Shit,” you murmur, spinning around and nabbing your perfume from the table and spritzing yourself and the jacket. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Bounding for the door, you wrench it open just as Dick raises his hand to knock. You stare at each other, for a moment, while you pant.

“Running late?”

Shoving Dick backwards into the hall, you lock up behind yourself and turn back to him with a cheesy smile. “Show me your Daddy, Dicky.”

His expression goes blank and you hiss out a breath.

“No. No! Don’t-”

“I think maybe-”

“Oh shut up,” you growl and he laughs, throwing an arm over your shoulders and leading you out of the building. “Y’know, I’ve don’t know that much about your family. Like I know the cast, obviously but you’ve literally never told me where you live, and you’ve never-”

Dick grimaces, and you can tell he’s unsure and maybe embarrassed.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, I’ll figure it out, I doubt they know much about me, anyway!” You laugh, your throat tight and panicked and he offers a weak smile and a quick squeeze.

  “Oh, f*ck me, Dick.” You stare at the gates.

The Gates.

Not to heaven, or arkham, or anywhere so pedestrian, oh no.

“F*cking Wayne Manor, Grayson? As in Dick Grayson, adopted son of Bruce Wayne?”

Dick shrinks in his seat, driving up the lane, since the gates had opened automatically, for him.

“I’m going to kick your god damn ass, Grayson, I’m going to end you, you’re the worst, literally the worst,” the car stops, “you’re so f*cking dead, you dumb bitch, I can’t believe you’ve done this,” your door opens, “and I’m just so excited to meet your family, Dick! Hahaha!”

You take the hand proffered through the car door and rise to come face to face with- shit- Tim Drake.

Recognisable, famous Tim Drake.

“Hi! Dicks brother Tim! He’s so proud of you,” you greet and Tims lips twitch upwards at the sides, though his slightly warm, slightly protocol expression changes little beyond that.

“Welcome, Y/N, Dick’s mentioned you a lot and we’re all so excited to finally meet you. In the flesh.”

You try not to frown at his weird phrasing, only for it to get worse.

“Oh. Did Jason leave his jacket in your car again, Dick?” Tim asks, his gaze moving from the jacket on your shoulders to Dick, who is sidling up beside you.

Jacket. Jay. Jason. Phone number. Freelancer. Night time work.

Shit, shit, shit, please be a coincidence, please be a coincidence. F*cking Dick, f*cking shit, damn, heck.

You smile absently at the pair.

“Oh, no, this one is apparently very similar to Jasons but Y/N has assured me she found it in her building,” Dick assures him, and you look between the two, gauging their reactions.

Tim grimaces, and Dick frowns at him.

A vigilante gave you this jacket. You just got the phone number of a possible vigilante named Jason. Dicks brother Jay is named Jason and he’s got a jacket like this.

Please.

Hell.

You spot others emerging behind Tim, from the gigantic Wayne Manor doors.

Dick’s eyes dart to them and he slings a comforting arm over your shoulders.

“Let’s get in and out of the cold, hey Tim? C’mon, lead the way.” His voice is jovial but he holds you back a second as Tim sends him a look then starts toward the doors. His face tilts toward yours, a soft whisper coming through your hair to your ear. “I’m so sorry, I should have said something sooner, it’s a- it’s hard to explain, you know I’m adopted, we’re all pretty adopted around here and it’s such a difficult situation and its not like I have the greatest relationship with Bruce and- I’m sorry, Y/N, I should have said something sooner.”

The apology brushes over you and you tilt slightly against him, your forehead setting against his shoulder and he presses a kiss onto the top of your head.

“Thanks, kiddo.”

“We’re two years apart, you galumphing oaf.” You growl back, just as you step through the doors and come face to face with a group of people staring at the pair of you.

Your eyes lock on a beautiful red haired woman, her face stark for a long moment as she takes in the pair of you before everything on her face is hidden with a blink of an eye.

Oh crap.

You step out of Dicks grasp, pointedly, and offer a weak smile to the red haired girl. Barbara.

Shit, hell.

Everyone stares at the movement and it takes you a second before you see him.

“Is that Jasons jacket?” A kid asks loudly, Damian, hopefully, but your eyes don’t stray from the man at the back.

Jason from the pet shop.

“Relax everyone,” Dick laughs, his eyes moving from you to Jason and the pair of you stare at the obvious expression on his face. Dicks voice trails off. “It’s not Jasons…”

“Jesus and the Joker,” you gripe, your eyes darting from Barbara to Jason to Dick.

“So this is your jacket?” Dick asks, gesturing to the beat up brown coat on your shoulders. “How’d she get it? How’d you get it?”

Jasons head twitches in a shake, eyes locked on yours and you squint at him.

“No! Jason. Don’t make her lie. How’d this happen? Why’s she still got it?” He glances at the staring group and sighs. “She got it like a week ago.”

“Three days.”

You grit your teeth, glaring at Jason.

“Shall we, everyone, head into the living room? Alfred, dinner?”

Your eyes dart to Bruce Wayne, his voice and face clearly recognisable from several television segments, and you watch as the group silently and with thick tension move single file through a door. Beside Bruce, another man, Alfred, you guess, steps up close to him and murmurs something before Bruce nods.

Beside you, Dick tangles your fingers.

“Hey, best friend?”

Your eyes slide up to his and he offers you a pathetic smile.

“Dick,” you say softly, as the others exit, leaving the pair of you a moment. “Cards on the table, a group of those people who run around at night visited me and then that night you were out with Jay one of them visited again and he gave me his jacket and then he took it back but then he gave it back and then Jason came into the pet shop today before you did and I got his number and I texted him and I realized that hot guy Jason from the store was some kind of vigilante guy because of what he said and now I get here and they’re the same person and your brother Jason is the Red Hood? And he’s running around with other vigilantes who have hair the same as these people we’ve just walked into and please call me crazy, Dick, that I’m a big ol’ loon, please?”

You don’t mess with the f*cked system in Gotham and you certainly don’t get involved with someone involved with the f*cked system.

“I’m Nightwing.” Dick says in a rush. “And kinda Batman.”

Your nose wrinkles as you try not to burst into tears.

Just… One thing after another.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Dick pulls you into his chest and you don’t resist. He’s Nightwing but he’s still your Dickie, your platonic soulmate. “I was going to tell you soon, but I know how you feel about all of it and I didn’t want you to hate me or my family before you met them.”

“Dick!” Someone yells obnoxiously before being loudly hushed.

“I didn’t know about this Jason thing, I wish he’d have spoken to me, this is my fault for mentioning you to them.”

You hug him tight before pulling back and shaking out your hair. Pasting on a smile, you beam at your best friend.

“It’s a party, Dick, for a dog, I think we should focus on that for now and hope I haven’t ruined any chance to make Barbara like me.” You laugh half-heartedly, before taking his hand and stepping purposefully toward the doors everyone else waits behind.

Heck this was a heck one like just definitely took a while and quite stressful to write idk what was going on

[kindaangelic]

Home Again, Jiggity-Jig

For Batfamweek 2018 Day 3: Homecoming

Jason’s big confrontation with his family and his reveal as the Red Hood was supposed to go something like this:

Kidnap Dickiebird

Kill Tim Drake

Reveal self to Bruce

Cause Angst

Revel

Instead, it went like this.

***

Jason was stalking Dick across the rooftops of Gotham, trying very hard not to look at his brother’s butt in the skintight Nightwing suit. Jason may have been many things, but he was not someone who looked at his own brother’s ass, thank you very much.

Despite not looking at Dick very much, the big showdown with him went something like this:

“Who are you?”

“I am your worst nightmare.”

“No, really, who are you.”

“I am the Red Hood. And now, we shall fight.”

Halfway through the fight came Jason’s big reveal, and he removed his mask. “Miss me, Dickie? It is I, Jas- why are you crying, stop that.”

Jason was bowled over when Dick slammed into him, propelled by the power of his Love. It took Jason a second to register that he was being hugged. “Little Wing! You’ve come back!”

Jason took advantage of Dick’s position to hoist him into a fireman’s carry and kidnap him. Halfway to his safehouse, Jason realized that this was not so much a kidnapping than a hug-fest. Dick was using his position over Jason’s shoulder to hug his waist from behind, and was yakking about Feelings and Love to his butt.

Jason finally deposited Dick at the safe house. “Do not move,” he instructed Dick.

“But I have to go to work in the morning, Little Wing,” Dick said earnestly. “I’ll come back tomorrow to pick you up, though!” He said brightly.

Jason goggled. “I’ve kidnapped you, you can’t just leave- oh dammit,” he cursed, as Dick shimmed acrobatically out of his bindings and jumped out the window.

“I’ll come back tomorrow, Little Wing! Everyone will be so happy to see you!” Dick’s voice cried faintly as he took off down the street.

Damn.

***

True to his word, Dick was back in the safehouse the next day, this time with Tim Drake himself. Jason stared at the boy, and wondered how anyone could be that skinny and not just evaporate on the spot. Killing this one would be easy.

“I tried telling Bruce, but he thinks that you’re an imposter,” Dick said, his voice muffled from his face being squished into Jason’s chest in a hug. “He thinks that you may even be reincarnated from the dead! So I brought some holy water to check.”

Dick spritzed Jason with some holy water in a spray bottle, and when Jason did not start chanting in Latin or being demony, he threw himself at Jason in another hug. “You’re pure, Little Wing!”

Well. Dick didn’t have to know about League of Assassin Orgy Fridays.

Meanwhile, Tim was staring at Jason. “Is it true that you mailed the heads of seven Gotham crime families to the GCPD?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Overkill, don’t you think?”

“Not really.”

“If you say so.”

Jason frowned. “Why don’t you fear me?”

Tim shrugged. “It’s kind of hard to, with Dick sobbing on your nipple.”

Jason belatedly realized that Dick’s tears had somehow penetrated his armour and had soaked his shirt underneath. He pushed him off. “Either you two are idiots or are very trusting.”

“I know its you, Jay, I ran your DNA from some hair that I snagged from you last night when I hugged you,” Dick explained.

Ah, a tactical hug.

“So what’re you trying to get now, then?”

“Only your Love, Little Wing.”

Ugh.

Jason looked at Tim, who he was supposed to be killing. The boy was poking around his friedge and eating! his! Food! Argh!

“Fear me!” Jason said.

“Get Dick off of you, and maybe I’ll try,” Tim replied, and bit into an apple.

This was not going according to plan.

***

Now this was more like it, Jason thought, as he battled Bruce. The Batman had refused to believe him, and had engaged the infamous Red Hood in battle to bring him to justice for the murders he had committed.

Spring cleaning, Jason had called it.

Dick was crying in the corner, screaming at Batman to stop, its Little Wing, he’s come back to us, don’t you dare ruin this for me!

Tim was standing beside Dick, watching the battle with rapt attention, and chewing on a packet of gum that he had found on Jason’s bedside table. As thanks, he had upgraded the security on his room. As if that would ever make up for the theft of Jason’s Juicy Fruit grape flavoured chewing gum delights.

Jason removed his mask and sent Bruce staggering back with angst. “Jason. It really is you.”

“Yes, and I’m here to end you,” Jason said with peak drama. Dick gasped. Tim chewed.

“But why, Jay-lad?”

“Because you never avenged me!”

“I did, a little,” Dick piped up. “I killed the Joker for like, ten minutes. Then Bruce resuscitated him.” “Thanks for trying.” “You’re welcome, Little Wing.”

“Bruce allowed Gotham to go to the dogs!” Jason cried, reclaiming his monologue. “I’m cleaning it up by doing what’s necessary!”

“Gotham had already gone to the dogs,” Tim snorted. “And your murder sprees leave blood stains, like, everywhere.”

Jason ignored Tim in favour of angsting more at Bruce, who looked truly miserable. “You won’t do what’s necessary to rid the city of its criminal element and when I do it, you want to stop me! Well, I’ll kill you first!”

Bruce’s face shuttered in an expression of rage. “No you won’t. You’re grounded!” “You’re not my father!”

“Yes I am! I have adoption papers that say so!” “And the Love in his heart, Little Wing!”

Sometimes, Jason wished that Dick would just go away. Preferably, with Tim. Then, Bruce closed the distance and was kissing him.

On the forehead, but still. Icky.

“My poor Jay-lad,” Bruce was saying. “Let’s go home.”

And Jason went, because there was no more food in the fridge, having been relocated to Tim’s stomach, and Dick was clinging to him again, and Bruce pointed out that Alfred was sad that he had not come to see him yet.

Jason went home, with his family by his side.

***

[brutish-invasion]

AaaaaaAAA noNOONOnono it’s ACTUALLY raining for once and, even though my garden likes that, it means CERTAIN SPARKY PERIL for my robots.

You see, I’ve gotten so accustomed to the blokes on the radio writing forecast-cheques their weather-arses never cash that I’ve fallen into a habit of disregarding their each and every warning. Like, oh? A few sprinkles in the AM? Thunder around lunch? A bloody typhoon on this upcoming Tuesday?

Hah! It’s been dry as a nunnery for the past month-and-a-half. They’ve been wrong and they’re gonna be wrong, so there’s no point in me wasting my time with precautions. Stay out there and enjoy the sunshine on your chassis, you stupid robots! Play on!!

But today my confidence has betrayed me. Now I have to track down the shepherd’s hook attachment for my cane and go out there in the Wet to round them all up and herd them into the carriage house.

This is very difficult because even the littlest spritz of moisture freaks them the fuck out. With all the thrashing metal and swooping implements and unintelligible scream-jabbering, it probably sounds like the Dickies are in our garden holding a benefit concert for… shit, I don’t know.

One miserable formerly-redheaded Englishwoman who wanted nothing more than her own sweet little family when she made that regrettable choice of sperm donor back in 1939.

[fashiontrendin-blog]

The Best New Menswear Pieces To Buy Right Now

http://fashion-trendin.com/the-best-new-menswear-pieces-to-buy-right-now-51/

The Best New Menswear Pieces To Buy Right Now

Salvatore Ferragamo Uomo Signature

Popping on a fragrance before leaving the house in the morning is like finishing a salad with a dash of dressing. You can go without, but you’ll always have that feeling something’s missing. Make this fragrance from Italian fashion house Salvatore Ferragamo your daily salad dressing, with notes of sexy tonka bean and the zingy freshness of grapefruit and mandarin.

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Reiss Douglas Dogtooth Overcoat

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Burton Blue Untitled Rugby Polo Shirt

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Auxillary Infra Leather Trainers

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Oliver J. Woods Formentera Salt Spray

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Carhartt WIP Arch Coach Jacket

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Canali Blue Tumbled Leather Card Holder

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Dickies 873 Work Pant Chinos

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Nike Heritage Hip Pack

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Adidas Warped Stripes T-Shirt

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Uniqlo Slim Fit Jacket

Even the most casual of men need to have a blazer up their sleeve – arguably the most transformative piece you can have in your wardrobe. And so if you’re not the type to shell out on a suit, at least invest in this slim fitting blazer from Uniqlo. Heck, you don’t even need an Oxford shirt, just throw it over a white tee with your smartest trousers and you’re ready to roll into that all-important job interview.

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Montblanc TimeWalker Manufacture Chronograph Limited Edition

Released to commemorate the golden age of motor racing, this new chronograph from luxury goods manufacturer Montblanc, is designed to look like the dashboards of classic race cars with its beige face and three sub-dials. The rotor – which can be viewed through the sapphire crystal case back – is designed in the shape of a steering wheel too, for those of you really driven crazy by the idea of Jackie Stewart flying down the tarmac.

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River Island RI 30 Navy Slim Fit Joggers

As high street chain River Island celebrates its 30th birthday with a limited edition collection, it’s hard to imagine the British mainstay is only that young. The capsule collection has a strong Versace influence running through it with elaborate, baroque linings galore, while these slim fitting joggers with a velvet-like side stripe are perfectly suited to knocking around the palace in.

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Mango Man Cotton-Linen Blend Jumper

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Dune Client Lace-Up Boot

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Cheap Monday Boxer Stripe T-Shirt

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BoohooMan Disney Mickey Mouse Sweater

Unfortunately for Mickey the red shorts and large yellow shoes look never caught on, but perhaps this jumper with his grumpy likeness on from BoohooMan will. In a rich shade of red and with his elegant signature down the side, we’d certainly sport this 100 per cent cotton number beyond the trip to Disneyland with the little ones.

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Stüssy London Capsule Collection Cap

As if there was any doubt that skatewear has now fully taken over the fashion world, monolithic streetwear brand Stüssy are opening a flagship store in London’s Soho district just around the corner from where Palace and Supreme both have stores. To celebrate the launch it has released a special capsule collection including this branded cap. Expect labyrinthine queues.

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Wrangler X Vans Cowboy Cut Jeans

Wranglers high calibre denim meets the Vans check in this new collaborative capsule collection between the two American brands. Tough and hardwearing these jeans will last you a lifetime (or a good while at least) and remember to roll them up at the hem to show off that lining which would like ace with a pair of, well, Vans.

Buy Now: £80.00

[hg2]

New Post has been published on http://hg2.com/magazine/next-level-londons-top-restaurants-2017/

Next Level: London's Top Restaurants in 2017

DAPHNE’S, SW3 3AE

It’s easy to miss Daphne’s (AKA “Daffers”) on Draycott Avenue. Not because it’s dull – it takes glam to Monaco and back – but because it resembles a Mayfair jewellers from the outside, with its honey-gold awning and tangle of door staff cum bodyguards.

Owned by Richard Caring, the restaurant underwent a facelift in 2014 after being gutted by a fire, and sells itself as an Italian “local” as if it were Portofino’s answer to Admiral Codrington round the corner. The reality, however, is it’s very much a Beaux Arts venture of the Caprice Holdings mould. Fin de siècle paintings? Check. Bar lamps? Check. Vintage Murano chandelier? Check. Marble-topped tables? Dip the Colony Grill Room in Mediterranean colours and you get the idea.

The back room’s full of bright, young things having a party. The French doors, opening onto the street, might be their immaculate parents. We all dine on a menu that includes hot, crispy zucchini flowers, balancing on satisfyingly squishy orbs of mozzarella, olive oil and garlic, as well as heavenly craters of Melanzale alla Parmigiana. The mains that follow include thick swirls of calamarata pasta with lobster which, whilst punching £32 square on the nose, earn their keep, too.

Often, places like this are full of society-belles trying not to crease their make-up, or beaus broken by years of small-talk, but Daphne’s has a real family-feel. This is most likely due to Gabriele Esposito’s stewardship – everywhere and nowhere at once, his friendly airs puncture any nonsense.

PALATINO, EC1V 8AB

Named after one of the seven ancient hills of Rome (the one from which we derive the word “palace”), Palatino is the latest restaurant to come from Steve Parle (who already has the likes of Sardine Craft London, Rotorino and Dock Kitchen under his belt). Located in Clerkenwell – once known as London’s “Little Italy” – it’s a paean to Rome, or more specifically its food.

Turn left as you enter or you might end up in Fora, an office concept that combines the functions of a hotel, office and private members club. Or just follow your nose; or the noise; or your eyes, as the banquettes are the canary shade Dicky Fitz made popular.

Thankfully the food redeems the utilitarian cum bland idiom of the professional classes: industrial chic. Using British ingredients for Parle’s echt Italian dishes, diners scoff carciofi alla giuda, stracciatella and anchovy, or salt cod crudo with blood orange. But the real highlights are trattoria classics like saltimbocca alla romana, stitched together with rosemary twigs, sage, ham next to a marsala reduction.

The problem is less to do with the quality or taste than the fact Roman food is about as healthy as a deep-fried kilo of candy floss. It swims in olive oil, lies entombed in batter, or bathed in velvety sauces. The result is a riot of fun that’s only multiplied by the cocktail du jour – a Palatino Spritz – and a great selection of grappa.

LUPINS, SE1 1SG

Offering British tapas to those in SE1’s fashionable Flat Iron Square who may have been troubled by its absence, Lupins is the offspring of Medlar kicthen-stars, Lucy Pedder and Natasha Cooke. Fresh, bright and cosy in the Daylesford tradition of interior design, it’s narrow two-floor plan is a playful mix of somewhere (like Henley, perhaps) and the nowhere of urban chic.

The menu is divine, and yet doesn’t try hard. There’s no plucky nouns or oleaginous adjectives. Instead, there’s the understated pitter-patter of “Cornish crab Thermidor”, “Spiced beef short-rib” and other dainties. Everything, from courgette, chilli and ricotta croquettes to a spring onion cornmeal tempura (that resembled a tarantula) is woofed down quicker than it can be photographed.

Dish after dish, a British mainstay like spring onion, jersey royals or lamb, is transformed by a lick of chilli, a slick of za’atar or a diplomatic dripping of pomegranate molasses. Lupins insists this is just part and parcel of its “splash of sunshine” treatment, but this doesn’t begin to cover the magic act the restaurant pulls off: making the complex look simple. Each plate, full of glazes, purees, ingredients smoked or toasted, looks like something pulled out of a children’s book – but without any twee that’s surplus to requirements.

Words: Henry Hopwood-Phillips

[aeperol-spritz]

DICK GRAYSON who has you straddling his thighs, hands tied behind your back as he sits against the headboard. cooing at how ‘you’re doing so good for me baby’ and that ‘you’re so close, just a little more’. He watches as you bounce slowly on his lap, his cock the only part free from his clothes. Being naked in his lap whilst he was still mostly clothed was both degrading and arousing. He doesn’t help you move, instead watching as your tits bounce with every weak movement. He has his hands folded behind his head as he tells you to ‘take what you want, i’m not gonna stop you’ and that ‘he’s enjoying the show so much’. Eventually after the second orgasm you reach he’ll flip you onto your stomach and fuck you so hard you’re drooling and babbling incoherently

[aeperol-spritz]

DICK GRAYSON who has you pressed face first into the sheets as you whine. Drool collecting in the corners of your mouth, he’s relentless, hips pistoning in a way that shouldn’t feel good, but God does it feel good. He’s get one hand planted on your back forcing you to arch further. Not even holding yourself up, chest flush to the mattress. ‘s’okay baby jus’ tell me what you want’ he asks in mock sympathy ‘can’t give my girl what she wants if she doesn’t tell me’. He’ll laugh at your jumbled response, tongue heavy and hands clenching the sheets. ‘guess i’ll jus’ stop then, since you don’t want anything’, as he pouts with a fake sympathetic frown at your whining ‘s’okay baby, i know what you want, just stay still and take it, ok baby?’

[aeperol-spritz]

Hello, lately i'm into sub dick grayson. If you could write one and you have some idea i'm very thankfull, he's kind of cocky and sass him act being brat so should put him to his belong

DICK GRAYSON who whines as you stop the slow roll of your hips, one hand gripped at the hair on his nape ‘I told you I was busy, did I not?’ you look down at him ‘but you you still had to push my buttons’ tsking at his insistence to bother you when you very clearly told him you had an important meeting today. ‘yeah, but you love it’ he smirks, trying to roll his hips up to meet yours. A soft slap to his cheeks and a narrowed gaze is all it took to shut him up. ‘why must you insist on being a brat?’ you grab his jaw ‘I don’t like when my baby acts like a brat’. He huffs, once again trying a futile effort to meet your hips ‘maybe i’m starved for attention’ he taunts. You squeeze his jaw tighter, eyes narrowing dangerously ‘you saying I don’t give you enough attention? hm? that i’m not good to you?’ punctuated by a roll of your hips he lets out a stuttered gasp ‘because if that’s true then I may as well stop. Since i’m not good to you’ with a teasing smirk you let go of his chin.

He lets out a pleading whine, hands threatening to move from the bed frame, where he was instructed to keep them. ‘please, baby please’ he downright whimpers ‘i’ll be good. please just keep going’. With a smirk you straddle his lap once again, continue the rhythmic rocking of your hips as he babbles out broken pleas to keep going. ‘see. all you have to do is ask’ you coo ‘I don’t like my baby being a brat. I much prefer him to be all sweet’

[aeperol-spritz]

dick grayson is the type of man to fold you in half, pressing your thighs to your chest and gives you a fake sympathetic pout when you complain

[aeperol-spritz]

MASTER LIST

. ݁₊ ⊹. ݁˖ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ . ݁₊ ⊹. ݁˖

DICK GRAYSON

• drabble

• jealous dick drabble

• no hands drabble

• dick being a brat

ROY HARPER

• drabble

WALLY WEST

• drabble

JASON TODD

HAL JORDAN

. ݁₊ ⊹. ݁˖ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ . ݁₊ ⊹. ݁˖

[fashiontrendin-blog]

The Best New Menswear Pieces To Buy Right Now

http://fashion-trendin.com/the-best-new-menswear-pieces-to-buy-right-now-23/

The Best New Menswear Pieces To Buy Right Now

River Island Ditch The Label Charity T-Shirt

To those who say fashion is fickle, we raise you this T-shirt from River Island’s latest campaign. Aside from putting its woke credentials front and centre, you’ll get change from a £20 and spruce up your collection of white T-shirts in the process.

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Dior Sauvage Eau De Parfum

Dior Sauvage has been one of the safest bets as far as scents go for more than half a century. Now available as a longer-lasting eau de parfum and with top notes of citrus and a vetiver base, there’s no excuse for smelling like you got spritzed in a nightclub toilet.

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Pretty Green Black Label Knitted Polo Shirt

Polo shirts fall into one of two categories: bad stag party clobber or sharp summer gear Dickie Greenleaf would be proud of. Pretty Green’s black label example is thankfully in the latter camp thanks to an on-trend camel colourway and subtle tipping detail. Nice one, Liam.

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Hudson Wynford Suede Navy Chelsea Boot

Assuming you’ve already ticked off black and brown Chelsea boots as part of your sartorial arsenal, you need another excuse to stock up, right? Try on Hudson’s Wynfords navy suede pair for size. Buttery soft suede, double heel tabs, navy, what’s not to like?

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Castore Kendrick Bag

Ever wondered what Harry and Wills use to cart their workout gear? This is it. The Kendrick bag from British sportswear brand Castore is pure next-level luggage, featuring temperature-regulating side pockets, anti-odour storage bags and a padded mesh laptop sleeve to switch between the gym, office and palace with ease.

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Hummel Marathona x Mita

In case you didn’t get the memo that bold trainers are big news, consider this a friendly reminder. To get in step with the season’s hottest trainer trend, look to this collaboration between Denmark-based sportswear firm Hummel and Tokyo sneaker store Mita, which are inspired by Danish pastries. Delicious.

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Topman Oversized Black Leather Biker Jacket

If you haven’t got a black biker jacket in your outerwear line-up, you’re not doing menswear right. Luckily Topman has got you covered with this oversized version, which is cut generous enough that it skips the awkward breaking-in phase.

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Fairfield Contactless Payment Watch

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H&M Super Skinny Trashed Jeans

Though you might not have the voice to a stadium, there’s absolutely nothing stopping you from dressing like a rock god. H&M’s super skinny (and super inexpensive) trashed jeans have just the right level of ‘lived-in’ to give your wardrobe those effortless woke up like this vibes.

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Reiss Finde Striped Shirt

Plain basics are nice and all, but they can be a slippery slope into a boring wardrobe wormhole. This Reiss vertical striped shirt is an easy way to put some pattern into your line-up (see what we did there?) It’s a multi-tasker, too, so you can take it from work to the weekend without even thinking about it.

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Baxter of California Beard Line-up Shave Gel

Some ideas are so stupidly simple and effective that we kick ourselves for not thinking of them first. Such is the case with Baxter of California’s beard line-up shave gel, which is clear and non-foaming, so you can see where the stray hairs are lurking. Genius.

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Tommy Hilfiger Allen Sweatshirt

Tommy Hilfiger has swapped the varsity crown for a nineties revival of late, but the brand’s signature Ivy League threads are still better than ever. This letterman sweater is clean, simple and in a colour that’s sure to pair effortlessly with everything else in your rotation.

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Mango Technical Fabric Checked Jacket

Attempting to reinvent the wheel often ends in disaster, so this technical fabric checked jacket from Mango gently updates the classic Harrington, and we must say, it’s done the already compulsively likeable design wonders.

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Maison Kitsuné Logo-Embroidered Cotton-Blend Cap

Parisian style isn’t all Breton stripes and berets. As French outfit Maison Kitsuné proves on a regular basis, there’s a cooler scene to be enjoyed: this time, with a five-panel cap that pours tricolour patriotism into a streetwear shell.

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Jaeger Slim Fit Trouser

British label Jaeger has longed turned out impeccable wardrobe classics, and these slim-fit trousers are no exception. Khaki has long been an easy way to flex some muted colour, while the shade itself nods to the military trend without heading into Action Man territory.

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Paul Smith Leather Mackerel Print Card Holder

In theory, Paul Smith’s mackerel print card holder sounds pretty out there. But in practice, there’s nothing fishy about this bold leather accessory, which blows its basic brown and black rivals out of the water.

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Todd Snyder x Champion Loopback Cotton-Jersey Shorts

Millennial pink isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and we’re glad because for too long men have missed out on this apparently feminine hue. These shorts, a collaboration between New York designer Todd Snyder and sportswear brand Champion come in a spring-ready shade that’s enough to make us want to cast off all of our black and navy immediately.

Buy Now: £85.00

M&S Collection Reversible Mac With Stormwear

High street stalwart Marks and Spencer gets unfairly overlooked for its wallet- and wardrobe-friendly menswear. Case in seriously stylish point: this reversible navy mac. It looks good, is reversible and boasts Stormwear water-repellent technology. Did somebody say triple threat?

Buy Now: £89.00