#artemis crook

[ariyougood]

ASTRAPHOBIA ⚡︎ W. West

IN WHICH:

- ASTRA was born to be a hero and it won't take much convincing for the justice league to look past her playful remarks to realize that.

↳ OR

- KAMILA CARTER is just figuring it out as she goes, and if she steals a few kisses from her best friend along the way who's gonna care?

[unstablequeerbitch]

When you have a cat but you are use to painting on the floor.

It’s taking forever but gonna look so cool when done

[mkarchin713]

Jason couldn’t believe it, his favorite modern author was coming to Gotham for a book signing. He had brought his favorite of D. F. Phantom’s books for him to sign. “How to Hero”, “The Infinity Map”, “The Freak who Became King”, and his favorite “Death and Dying for Dummies”.

Jason was practically vibrating with joy. Soon he would be shaking hands with the first modern author who really spoke to him. His books had gotten Jason through some tough times, he first read “The Infinity Map” when he was on the streets, he loved imagining going to all the amazing places in the Infinity Realms, he often dreamed of visiting Ghost Writer’s library and seeing if he could find unpublished Austin books, or books she wrote in alternate dimensions. “The Freak who Became King” reminded him of his own history as a nobody who became a somebody by a twist of fate. “How to Hero” always had great advice when he first started out as Robin. But the book that affected him most was “Death and Dying for Dummies”. Reading that book made him feel like he wasn’t alone, that there was someone with the answers he didn’t know he was looking for.

He couldn’t wait to finally meet D. F. Phantom in the flesh. He had imagined there meeting a thousand times. He had rehearsed a dozen times, the words he was going to say to express how much the author impacted his life.

Yes he was a fanboy, and his siblings could never know, nor could the rest of the hero community, he would never live it down.

Jason peaked to the front of the store to see if they where letting people in yet and could not believe what he was seeings. There at the front of the line was John Jones, the Martian Manhunter himself (in his civilian form of course), lovingly stroking his copy of “Mars Across the Multiverse”.

Behind the Martian was Megan Morse and Conner Kent. Megan also had a copy of her uncles book but Conner was holding “Cloning, Clones, and the Creeps who Cloned Them”.

Behind them was a woman Jason would swear was Tim in drag holding a copy of “Fearing the Future”. With the way Conner was looking at the ‘woman’ Jason was positive it was Tim.

Further down the line Jason saw Jon Kent and what appeared to be an old bus driver arguing about which was better “How to Hero” or “The Infinite Bestiary”

Jason hesitantly turned around to see who else was in line. He was not disappointed.

Duke was discussing the finer points of “Overthrowing the Corrupt” with Cass while Stephanie (wearing a trench coat and fake mustache for who knows what reasons) was trying to convince Artemis Crook to read “Help! My Parents a Super Villain”

Apparently it was a family trip as Roy and Lian where there to with Lian clutching “Cujo and the Lost Squeaky” and talking excitedly to Babs who was holding “The Guy in the Chair got Up”.

And Babs brought the Gotham Sirens with her as Ivy was suggesting Lian might like “Super Naturals” for the pictures, while Harley was now talking about the psychological analysis of J. F. Phantom with…. Where did Dinah Drake come from?

The rest of the line wrapped around the corner.

Jason was afraid who else might be here.

——

Books

“How to Hero”- a self help book for heroes

“The Infinity Map”- a travel guide to the Infinity Realms

“The Freak who Became King”, -autobiography

“Death and Dying for Dummies”. - self help book for those who died and came back

“Mars Across the Multiverse”- a look at Martian culture across the multiverse

“Cloning, Clones, and the Creeps who Cloned Them”- a self help book for clones and those who were cloned. Co authored by E. M. Phantom

“Fearing the Future” - self help guide to dealing with knowing alternate future versions of you are evil and how to prevent this future from happening. Co written by D. M. Phantom

“The Infinite Bestiary” - guide book to the creatures of the Infinite Realms.

“Overthrowing the Corrupt” - a how to guide on how to overthrow corrupt governments, businesses, etc. co authored by S.M. Phylla

“Help! My Parents a Super Villain” - a self help book for children of villains and mad scientists. Co-written by J. F. Phantom.

“The Guy in the Chair got Up” - a self help book for hero support. Co-written by T. F. Pharaoh.

“Super Naturals” a guide to the natural flora of the infinity realms. Co written by S. M. Phylla

So Danny is a famous best selling author in the multiverse (DP universe is different from the DC universe), he has written several books. Ghostwriter is his editor, publisher and distributor.

Jazz got him to start writing a journal to help with his mental health and to let his feeling out in a safe manner. He liked it so much that he decided to write some actual books

One of his books is part autobiographical and part self-help for heroes. Including chapters about having mad scientist for parents, being cloned by supervillain, having met an evil version of yourself from the future, why your rogue gallery can be so weird, Dating its complicated, etc.

He co-wrote a few books with Dani, one was about what is like to be a clone and having a clone, another is a travel guide to the Infinte Realms

Another book is meant to be humorous and is about die and being dead. A lot of death humor. Death and Dying for Dummies.

Maybe an Art book filled with photographs of space that he took pictures of. Some not being possible to view from Earth.

.

[blog-on-a-log]

goodnight stars goodnight moon goodnight beautiful & crazy boys who will never ever break their carefully-crafted flawless personas to reveal their inner weakness and vulnerability except in front of one or two select people. and goodnight mars

[trust-me-i-just-get-weirder]

.

[prism-empurress]

Artemis Weber; the Honest Gentleman

[cosmonautilus1]

The thrilling sequel:

Investments

Bruisers with no personality

Gays just barely hanging on

Would totally kick your ass while eating waffles

my personal collection of condescending asshole teenage boys

[violant-apologia]

the FL MtG cards are here!

this is like my fourth batch, but i haven't posted any of the previous ones, so let me show off some of the cards from all the batches!

briar and his three mr stoneses! these are the face commanders of the deck. there are alternate commanders that you'll see later, but this is the pair that i like using the most often.

more masters! (and bazaar-aligned entities). all the masters in the deck are vampires, and they also all have the seal of the bazaar as a watermark. just a neat bit of visual clarity, i think!

ocs! incuding mine. not all of them will be able to make it into the deck proper (for deck size and colour identity reasons) but i'm still so happy to have them all.

basic lands: seven of each. these gave me so much hassle back when i made them, but i think they turned out well!!! apart from the edge mountains which are like 70% black.

more lands! a triplet of creatureland which i feel work very well. the rest of them are neat too. whenever i say i have an underground sea proxy in the deck, people give me a Look, but how could i not! it's a perfect fit.

dfcs! the frames of these all had to be done by hand, which always took a while. i still think they turned out incredibly well, all things considered.

more creatures!! some legendary, some not. i made the decision pretty early that if i represent a named character with a nonlegendary card, i'd just cut the "the" from the name (see sallow spirifer and voracious diplomat). i think it works!

and noncreatures!! there's a vague treasure theme in the deck (as can be seen in the fall of london, revel in riches and spirifage (as well as a lot of the creatures)) but honestly most of the cards are flavour picks. still, artificial evolution has gotten me out of some jams. fun card!

aaaand tokens! which is everything. i reckon when i play this deck properly, i'll report back any fun scrapes that anyone's characters get into. like getting turned into a bug, or killing the god of death.

again, thank everyone who contributed OCs or art to this project. i'm very happy to have so many flumblr characters appear in the deck. all of the cards have art credits on them, but some probably aren't visible in the photos. so for proper credits (and as a ping list) i've included a list below the cut:

@alexis-royce: The Ex-Disgraced Academic; Mr Pages; Mr Stones (x2); New Blood. @anomalouscorvid: Darcy, the Appalling Artist; Furnace Ancona; Mr Transport; May, the Merry Gentleman; The Seventh Coil. @capn-twitchery: Captain Twitchery Lazaret. @ciriparipa: Mr Sacks. @dualclock: Oswald, the Decadent Parvenu. elena-illustration: M. Melchor. @esteemed-excellency: Haunted One; Hiram Hargrave. @feivelynart: Black Ribbon Duellist; The Carnelian Exile; The Grand Geode; London Ascends to the Stars; Thopter Token; Voracious Diplomat. u/Galvatyr: Poor Edward. @hells-dear-heart: Isidore Carter. @letters-of-fire: Boots the Cat; Giorgione, Crooked-Cross. @madame-butterfly-knife: Inessa Fonseca, Lyon. @milleart: Snuffer. @mledoesart: Mr Eaten. @oneirotecture: Warden, Scarred Silverer. @pinchbees: Merry Darthfellow. Sarah Warrington: Orsino Elderwood. @shazzbaa: Griz, the Efficient Commissioner; Mr Fires; Stargaze; Tragic Slip; Virginia, Lord Mayor of London. @sorrow2art: Cardiac Echoes, Spymaster. StagyTryout: The Avid Horizon @sunlessveils: Parabolan Kitten. @tears-n-tarot: Charlie and Artemis Burnet-Lin. @the-insouciant-scientist: Briar Hathaway, the Apologist; Mr Stones; Noman. @the-masterless-press: Betty Horvat, Pugilist. @the-noted-collector: Endemannus Korabl'nikov. @thedeafprophet: Harper Faraday. @thegreatyin: The Bandaged Scoundrel. @thunder-threnodies: Captain Francis Morgan Dargor. @torturingpeople: Edison, the Sybaritic Laureate; The Tender Pathologist. @velvetlinedbox: Doe, Waterlogged Detective. @viric-dreams: The Boil of Calamities; Drown in Dreams; Horiatio Digby; The Six Finger'd Scrimshander. @waterlogged-detective: Brett Heroux, Dandy Detective; Marian, Prickly Bluejacket; Namkuzu, Avaricious Meddler. @yuuuyang: Sigil-Ridden Navigator; Storm, God of the Roof; The Woods in Winter. @zeebreezin: August Shaw, the Black Rook.

and @failbettergames: Arcane Signet; Artificial Evolution; Beseech the Queen; Betty Horvat, Pugilist (bg); Black Market; Blood Token; The Cave of the Nadir; Censor; The Chapel of Lights; Clothes-Colony; Clue Token; Copy Token; Darkness; The Dawn Machine; Dreamscape Artist; The Echo Bazaar; The Fall of London; Flood of Tears; Food Token; Hecuba, Doomed Obliterator; Hideaway; Hillchanger Tower; The Horticultural Show; The House of Chimes; The Implacable Detective; Inessa Fonseca, Lyon (bg); The Irrepressible Heiress; Island (x7); Jack-of-Smiles; Khan's Heart; Laughable Reconstruction; Miniature Hellworm; Mountain (x7); The Mountain of Light; Mr Chimes; Perigee of Silver; The Prismatic Dowager; Probably a Coincidence; Revel in Riches; Rise and Shine; Road // Ruin; Sallow Spirifer; Salt, God of the East; The Scuttering Company; Shapeshifter Token; Spider-Council; Spirifage; Stone, God of the South; Swamp (x7); Treasure Token (x2); Underground Sea; Venderbight.

[to-the-stars8]

Learning to Love Slowly

Jason Todd x Reader All Chapters AO3

Jealousy and Heart-Emoji's

You watched as Jason scrolled through his phone, absentmindedly twisting a strand of his hair between your fingers as he lay between your legs. His expression was relaxed, his thumb lazily flicking upward. You hadn’t been paying much attention—until a notification popped up on his screen with a name.

Artemis 💘

A strange, sharp feeling twisted in your stomach. It was involuntary, like a sudden jolt of adrenaline mixed with something colder. Unfortunately, you knew this feeling well. Jealousy. You had no reason to feel this way. Jason had never given you a reason to doubt him. And yet, the sight of that heart emoji with the name left an uncomfortable weight on your chest.

The thought slipped out before you could stop it. “Who’s Artemis?”

Jason had glanced at the message—a meme of a cat—before closing it without hesitation. “A friend of mine,” he said simply. Then he hesitated, brows furrowing slightly. “Why do you ask?”

“Curious,” you mumbled, forcing yourself to keep playing with his hair as if nothing had changed.

Jason exhaled sharply, tossing his phone onto the coffee table before sitting up, much to your protest. His green eyes locked onto yours as he moved onto his knees, an amused smirk tugging at his lips.

“You’re jealous,” He pointed out.

You opened your mouth, scrambling for an excuse, but all that came out was a string of half-formed words. Heat crept up your cheeks, and you dropped your gaze. You shouldn’t have felt this way. It was just a message between friends. 

Jason tutted softly before burying his face in the crook of your neck, his lips trailing slow, lingering kisses over your skin. His grip tightened around you like he was afraid you might slip away. Before you could process it, he had you pressed flat against the couch, his body flush against yours as his mouth traveled over your jaw, your shoulders, your collarbone—anywhere he could reach.

“Baby,” he murmured between kisses, his voice thick with something raw, something aching. “I’m all yours. Always. You know that, right?”

The warmth of his breath sent shivers racing down your spine, but you still turned your head, embarrassment creeping up your face. “I know… but the heart emoji didn’t help.”

Jason let out a low chuckle, but his hands never stopped moving, never stopped holding you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered. His nose brushed against yours, his voice softer now. “I’ll give you that,” he admitted. “I can introduce you if you want. Just a heads-up—she’s like another Roy. As in, they both have red hair and are very wild.”

“Oh, so that’s your thing? Picking all your friends by hair color?” you teased.

Jason hummed, the corner of his mouth lifting. “No, I usually just steal Dick’s.”

Your laughter filled the space between you as you combed your fingers through his dark hair, feeling the way he melted into your touch. His hands slid up your sides, rubbing slow, soothing circles against your skin, like he needed the reassurance just as much as you did.

And just as you were about to suggest taking this to the bedroom, he whispered against your lips, voice barely above a breath—

“No one else’s, sweetheart.”

[tightjeansjavi]

The Rite of Movement | part three

“not an illusion”

A/N: this honestly might be the hottest thing that my sexy little brain has ever cracked up 🥵 a big ole fat smooch and thank you to @itsokbbygrl for letting me scream at her about these two, helping me develop my ideas, betaing, & this beautiful moodboard!!!💗

~word count: 5.2k~

Summary: it’s been one month since your first time filming with your new pornstar partner, Joel Miller.

Pairing | pornstar!joel x pornstar!female reader

Warnings: smut, fluff, light angst,dubious consent (light) due to consumption of drugs, consent is addressed, but due to the circumstances, it is implied, unestablished relationship, two idiots in love, (they just don’t know it yet) mention of the porn industry, unprotected piv, role playing, real intimacy, confession of feelings, oral (male receiving) semi public sex, high sex, creampie, cock warming, cumshots, praise kink (massive) pet names, conversations about controversial topics, mentions of eating, reader has no physical descriptions such as skin color or body type, no use of (y/n) reader is in her 30’s Joel is in his 40’s (unspecified), NSFW, +18 minors dni!

series masterlist

It has been exactly one month since you filmed your first video with Joel Miller. One that he chose to keep for yours and his own viewing pleasure, and not to be shared with the rest of the world's prying eyes. A solo shot turned into sensual, passionate, deep fucking. A mind altering experience that neither you or Joel had begun to even grasp what it meant.

He learned that you were better immersed in the mood when the scene started off with just yourself in the view. The anticipation of him joining the scene was palpable, desirable, and there was an obvious shift whenever his presence was detected.

The part of your normal-routined day that you looked forward to the most, above all, was getting to fuck Joel Miller.

The scene you were filming for today was set in Joel’s upstairs bathroom where you would be playing with yourself in the shower while waiting for your businessman husband to return home from a late shift in the office. You were most excited to see Joel all decked out in a proper businessman suit, while he was rather looking forward to seeing you all sudsed up with his body wash while he pumped you full of his come.

It was easy to forget the various cameras set up in the bathroom space when it was just you and Joel–the thick drag of his cock inside of you, stretching, pressing you open, his perfectly styled hair becoming undone and loose as the spray of the showerhead dampened the gel in his curls.

The scene ended with your right thigh hooked around his hip, his face buried against the crook of your neck while you used the cool shower wall for support against your back as he fucked up into you, kissing your cervix over and over again from this angle.

He pressed a sweet kiss to the tip of your nose as he slowly slipped out of your cunt, and his eyes flitted downwards to see his and your come slowly seeping out of your fucked out hole. He called you his baby love. Calling you baby just wasn’t enough for him, he had to combine the two together.

He gently washed between your thighs while you washed his hair, getting the remaining bits of gel residue out from between his salt and pepper streaked curls. He purred in mimicry of his own cat when your nails began to massage his scalp in a circular motion, and he looped his strong arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, and pressed sweet kisses against every bit of skin that was exposed to him.

And the cameras? Well, they were still rolling.

He left you to get dressed in privacy while he gathered up his discarded suit and disappeared through the connecting door to his bedroom.

He moved with a methodical care, catching his boyish grin in his mirror when he tugged a pair of sweats over his damp thighs and hips. He made his way downstairs, saying hello to Artemis, his black cat who was curled up in a little ball on her larger than life bed.

He grabbed two glasses, filling them with fresh water, guzzling down his own before making his way into his garage that was built off the side of the kitchen.

Joel Miller’s garage held history. It was where he filmed his first video for Miller-Co after leaving Brazzers and Los Angeles for good, taking a gamble on himself and a better future. The couch was right where he left it, dust leaving a fine coating over its worn leather, the memories faded with time, but never forgotten.

He grabbed his jar of weed, a rolling tray and papers, bidding the couch a silent farewell and headed back inside, flicking the light off on his way in.

He listened to the familiar sound of your footsteps padding down the staircase from where he was sitting on the cozy family room couch, Artemis now winding herself between his calves, meowing softly as he poured out a dabble of weed onto the metal tray.

He looked over his shoulder, eyes meeting yours just as Artemis trotted over to you, affectionately rubbing herself all over your bare legs.

“Hey, you.” He grinned softly, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Headed out so soon?” He teased, voice rasping as you crouched down to give Artemis the attention that she was seeking.

“Not unless you don’t want me to stay longer?” You teased back, eyes dancing with mischief and rare adoration that only seemed to make an appearance around him. You scratched gently behind Artemis’s ears, before ultimately deciding to carefully scoop her up into your arms and carry her over to the couch.

“Always want you to stay, baby love.” There wasn’t a lick of hesitation in his tone as he patted the spot next to him for you to join. “And I reckon Artemis does, too.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks from his words as you bashfully buried your face into Artemis’s soft black fur and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “Yeah? You think so, Joel?”

He closed up the jar of weed, twisting the cap on and set it down along the coffee table before facing you fully. “I know so, baby.” He winked suggestively as hunched over the coffee table, his bare stomach rolls on full display and you felt the temptation to reach across and caress them.

He begins to carefully break up the little nuggets of weed granules between his thick fingers with a calculated precision that came like second nature. He hums under his breath, a familiar tune to your ears as he looks over at you once more. “So there’s uh—no pressure, of course. But I was gonna roll a joint n’then go sit out on the porch swing out front if you’d like to accompany me?”

“Mr. Miller,” you begin to tease, “is there truly nothing that you can't do?”

He blushes, cheeks transforming into a deep, saturated, rosy color as he clears his throat. “What did I tell ya about callin’ me Mr. Miller?” He scolds playfully, shaking his head and picks up one of the thin rolling papers.

“That it makes you feel old, but dude, you’re gorgeous. Have you ever heard of the term, Zaddy?” You scoot closer to him, your knee bumping his as Artemis proceeds to curl up in your lap, purring softly while you stroke her fur.

“Don’t believe I have, baby love. Somethin’ the kids are sayin’ nowadays?”

“Hey, Alexa?” You ask, the little smart device in the corner coming to life, “what is the definition of the term Zaddy?”

“A Zaddy is a sexually attractive man, especially an older one who is fashionable or charismatic.” Alexa’s voice chimed.

Joel’s blush intensified and he turned his face into his bare shoulder, coughing bashfully with a strained chuckle. “So, what you’re tellin’ me is that you think I’m a Zaddy? Mighty fine compliment comin’ from such a pretty girl.” He peeks over at you, brown eyes soft, eyebrows dancing playfully.

“Joel, baby, you are the literal definition of a Zaddy.” You giggle sweetly, leaning down to press another kiss to Artemis’s head. She’s fallen asleep in your lap, little nose twitching as she dreams. “But to answer your question, I’d love to smoke a joint with you out on the porch swing.”

Oh

“S’date then?” He drawls, eyes casting to the side out of fear of being too forward.

You smile warmly in his direction, heart skipping a beat, thump, thump, thump, at the prospect of this being a date, and getting to spend more time with him. “It’s a date, Miller.”

He preens at your response, lips tugging upwards to form a small grin as he returns to preparing the joint laid out in front of him.

You couldn’t help but watch the way he effortlessly licked the paper, packing the weed granules in and making sure they were nice and snug and tight.

He tucks the freshly rolled joint behind his ear, grabbing a lighter and a blanket off the side of the couch. “She’s out cold, baby love. Y’can leave her on the couch, okay?” He gestures to Artemis snoozing in your lap.

“Okay,” you whisper softly and gently maneuver her balled up fluffy form to the corner of the couch where it’s nice and warm still from where Joel was sitting.

He smiles, offering you his hand and helps you up, tucking his arm around your waist, lips brushing the side of your head and nudging you silently towards the front door. He smells incredible, like eucalyptus, rosemary, and a hint of fresh peppermint. You already want to bury your face into that broad neck of his, inhale his scent, lick and mouth at his pulse point while he stirs beneath your thighs.

“S’beautful evenin’, ain’t it, baby love?” He comments softly, padding over to the porch swing nestled at the back of the porch. The moon is shining, casting your faces in a soft glow. The wood creaks beneath his steps, crickets chirp, an owl hoots his nighttime tune. The Texan air is balmy, humidity clinging to your bare skin, but it’s not an unbearable temperature.

He sinks down along the bench swing, patting the spot beside him and you're quick to join him, adhering yourself to his side like glue. He drapes the light weight blanket across yours and his lap and lets his arm rest alongside the back of the bench, fingertips skating across your bare shoulders, forefinger looping under the strap of your thin tank top. He leans his weight back against the pillows, chains squeaking from the subtle movement.

“It’s a beautiful evening indeed, Joel. Summer nights have always been my favorite.”

He nods, reaching for the joint tucked behind his ear and grasps it between his fingers. He places the unlit end between the pout of his lips, reaching for his lighter in his sweatpants pocket, and lights the joint with ease.

For a moment you find yourself transfixed by the simple action, and the way the spark of orange from the lighter bathes his handsome face in warm light, before it’s casted in darkness once more.

He inhales, lungs expanding, stomach swelling slightly with the motion. The tip of the joint burns a bright orange as he holds the smoke in his mouth for a few seconds and then exhales upwards towards the clear night sky.

You’ve only just now taken notice of the color of the rolling paper; light pink. You feel the hint of a smile lift the corners of your mouth.

He relaxes further against the pillows and takes another deep inhale before removing the joint from between his lips. His arm moves in a languid motion, across the way to where you’re curled up against him.

He places the joint between your lips, eyes adjusting to the low light as he watches you inhale the smoke into your lungs.

“S’my favorite as well, baby love.” He finally replies.

You continue to lazily pass the joint back and forth a few more times, mind beginning to go hazy as your eyelids drooped and that warm, tingly feeling blanketed you like a hug.

“Hey, Joel?” You asked through the comfortable silence, and the nighttime tunes.

“Hmm?” He hummed in response, lolling his head to the side so he could look over at you.

“Do you think,” you giggled softly, trying to gather your weed induced thoughts, “do you think that if vibrators existed back then, you know, like, way back, that women would innately never need a man, thus making women rulers of the world?”

He pursed his lips together, rolling your question over in his mind before he answered, tone raspy, deep, and warm, “Baby love, if vibrators existed back then, women would 1000% rule the world. And I betcha we would have an all female government if that were to be the case. Women jus’—get it, y’know?”

As if this man couldn’t get anymore attractive.

“Well then I think you and I should figure out how to invent time travel just so we can hand deliver them vibrators, and a supply of batteries.” You said animatedly, using your hands to talk and get your point across.

Cute.

“Joel,” you continued, “just think of how many wars we could stop, how many lives could be saved, the earth would be this beautiful, safe place. Women would no longer live in fear for their safety! We could all just exist in harmony. But, if women rule the world, I’d want a man like you ruling by my side.”

“I agree with you, wholeheartedly, I do. I think that if there were more women in power, the world we live in would be a different one. Essentially, we could be like the Barbie movie.” The reference makes you snort a little laugh. “Women and men working together to make the world a better place. Think we gotta push all these old farts outta office, get some fresh, young, faces in there in order for some real change to occur. S’essentially why I strive to make porn for women. It ain’t gonna cause a drastic shift or nothin’, but I believe it makes this society we live in a bit less of a shitty place.” He adds thoughtfully.

“Yes! Like the Barbie movie. God, Greta and Margot and Ryan really knew what they were doing, huh? I’d kiss them all if I could.” You giggled. “Joel, it just takes one person to cause a shift in the chain. You’re teaching both your actors and viewers why consent and intimacy are important and that we should be freely allowed to enjoy our bodies. To you it might seem like it’s small in scale compared to the scope of the whole world, but to people like myself and others, it means so much.” You gush earnestly and his eyes feel glassy, irritated probably from the weed but also the weight of the conversation.

“Y’know I often think it’s so easy for people to not be assholes. I’m so tired of excuses bein’ made for people to be racist, homophobic, transphobic...all of that. To see men encourage other men with ‘locker room’ talk and objectifyin’ women. Tired of people callin’ women and anyone for that matter, a slut just because someone enjoys havin’ sex.” He breathes out, feeling himself getting worked up at the realization that the world is made up of so many judgmental pricks that he’ll never ever understand. You pass the joint back to him and he takes a deep pull, exhaling up into the thick summer air overhead.

“Joel,” you say softly, reeling him in from slipping off the treacherous deep end. He turns to look at you then and you cup his cheek in your palm, stroking his cheekbone softly, watching the movement of your thumb as it brushes over the fine lines near his eyes.“You were literally written by a woman, and if the world had more men like you in it, it would be a different place.”

You want to memorize this moment, cement it in your history. You move your eyes to his and find him already returning your gaze, something soft, warm and gooey found in the dark chocolate. The moment feels heavy, but not oppressive, and you wait for him to make the move you feel fizzling just below the surface. You’d wait a long time for him, you think, and the thought doesn’t scare you. No, it feels right, good. There’s no room for worry here, he’ll take care of you, just give him time.

He takes in your appearance, the softness in your eyes, the tender firmness to your words, and then he feels it: that invisible string tying him to you, and you to him. He doesn’t want the moment to end, for it to pass and be stored in his memory bank to flip through later. No, he wants to live it now in the present. And so he does, leaning in to close the gap, tilting his head to the side, aquiline nose brushing your skin, heartstrings winding together.

You can taste the weed on his breath as it fans your face, you can feel the moment flow, like a crystalline stream, or a warm breeze, and the moment his lips brush yours, slotting, melding together like molten iron, you feel it there, too.

And from that moment, he felt his heart forever welded to yours.

He inhales a shaky lungful of air, surging forward into the kiss and letting himself get lost in the raw emotions behind it.

“I think—” he pauses, murmuring against your locked lips, “I really like you, want you to be more than just my on-screen partner.” He confesses.

Your heart lurches out of your chest at his confession, and your already dizzying mind sways even more. Your lips slowly detach, a thin string of saliva connects you before dissipating into the balmy air.

“You’re just saying that because you’re stoned, Joel.” You whisper through the thick of it.

He shakes his head, brows furrowed in concentration, “No, I ain’t jus’ sayin’ it cause I’m high, baby love.” He clears his throat, nose twitching as he sniffs, “Been meanin’ to tell you for awhile—since I first met you, really.”

“You—you mean that, Joel? You aren’t just fucking with me, right?” So it wasn’t just me who was feeling it? You think.

“Course I mean it, baby. S’the truth. S’comin’ straight from my heart. You don’t gotta feel the same—I understand…” he trails off, determined to not let his assumption that you’re rejecting him hit him where it hurts.

You press your pointer finger against the pout of his lips, silencing his rambling and self deprecating words, “Joel, I feel the same way. I like you, and I want to be more than just your on-screen partner, too.”

No, baby, this is not an illusion. I’ve really got my heart out on my sleeve.

His lips feel wet and warm against the underside of your fingertip. He kisses it sweetly, breathing out a sigh of relief at your mutual feelings.

“So, wanna get burgers and milkshakes with me sometime?” He suggests, lips curving up against your finger in a boyish grin.

You smile, leaning forward and brush your nose against his, inhaling the scent of weed and him before giggling, “Yes, Joel. I’d love to get burgers and milkshakes with you sometime.”

He blushes, and the heat begins to rise to your cheeks in tandem.

“Well, baby love, ain’t no time like the present.” He chuckles warmly and you slowly slide your finger down from his lips, replacing it with a sweet kiss.

I promise I’ll take you out somewhere real nice for our official first date. Okay, baby love? He mumbles against your lips, kissing you back.

“I know you will, Joel.”

-

DoorDash is a godsend when the munchies hit, and you and Joel decide on ordering Shake Shack to satiate that craving. The order is confirmed and the eta for arrival reads: will be ready in thirty-five minutes.

The joint is passed a few more times, still burning strong, and thank fuck for that. Joel Miller sure knew how to roll the tightest joints.

There’s chemistry sizzling between your two bodies as your hands begin to roam freely across his skin, tracing across the various freckles and moles on his chest and shoulders. He shifts from your featherlight touch, cock beginning to stir to life.

“Can I fuck you, Joel?” You whisper as your hand drifts southwards, tracing along the hemline of his gray sweats.

He nods, Adam’s apple bobbing, holding the joint between his lips and watches with hooded eyes as you maneuver your soft cotton shorts to the side, revealing your bare cunt to his admiring gaze.

“S’yours, baby love. Take it.” he rasps, shifting his hips in an upward motion so you can easily pull his hardening cock free.

You clench at his words, feeling your cunt grow puffy and swollen with desire, dripping a droplet of arousal between your thighs as you gently throw your leg over his lap, straddling him in the process and pulling his cock free.

His hands move to caress you, grasping the blanket and situating it so that you’re both partially covered. He takes another long, languid drag as your palm wraps around the base of his cock and slowly ease yourself around him, sinking down till he's fully buried inside of you.

“Take it.” He requests once more. His hands roam from your hips up to the skin below your breasts as you slowly roll your hips forward into his.

His cock fully hardens inside of you, blood flowing southward causing him to swell. He feels the syrupy drag of your sweet cunt around him with each roll of your hips. He tilts his head back, jaw going slack as the joint dips down from between his lips.

“Put that out so I can kiss you, Joel.” You whisper, bringing your arms upwards to loop around his neck and to pull yourself closer to him. Your covered nipples brush against his bare chest, hardening into stiff peaks. He removes one hand from your hip, taking a final drag from the joint before he plucks it between his lips and reaches for the nearby ashtray blindly.

It may have fallen to the floor, but his mind is too intoxicated with you to care: he can deal with that later.

He holds the smoke in his mouth, letting his hand drift back down and splay across your lower back, pressing you further into him. He tilts his head upwards, finding your lips in a chaste kiss as he shotguns the smoke into your mouth.

A strangled moan is shared as you swallow the smoke down into your lungs.

“Good girl.” He praises and curves his hands around your covered ass, slipping his fingers underneath the soft fabric so he can feel your skin. He presses you forward, feeling you begin to slowly grind on his cock. “This close enough for you, baby love?”

Your breath hitches in your throat at the sudden closeness, the stretch of his cock grinding inside of you. Perspiration begins to bead at the back of your neck as your cunt flutters around him. You press your forehead against his, lips falling open, skin on fire from his touch and the steady drug coursing through your veins. “Mhm.” You whimper, “First time we're not acting, Joel.”

His hands guide you, molding you against his body as he tilts his chin upwards to catch your lips once more. “S’never been actin’ for me, not with you.” He whispers just for only you to hear.

“Oh fuck.” You softly cry out, feeling tears begin to flood the corner of your eyes and leak down the side of your cheeks.

“Every time, baby. Couldn’t help myself. every sound, every touch, every time I came, it was all you, all yours.” He continues.

He catches the glassy look in your eyes, the tear stained cheeks and he ceases your movements immediately. His caress is soft, comforting as his big palms hold your face, brushing away fresh tears. “Hey, look at me, baby. Look at me. It’s okay. I’m here. I got you.”

“Fuck—I’m so sorry, Joel. I don’t know why I —” you stumble over your words, not reaching his eyes in the midst of your emotions.

“Baby,” he tries again, “look at me.” His voice isn’t commanding, and neither are his words but the way he delivers them grounds you back to your senses and you meet his gaze finally.

“That’s it. There you go. Good girl, good fucking girl. Keep lookin’ at me with those pretty eyes, okay? Keep doin’ that.”

You card your fingers through the back of his hair, wrapping ringlets of his soft curls between them, yanking on his scalp gently as you begin to roll your hips forward once more. “I’m—okay, Joel. I’m okay.” You reassure him.

“Know you are, baby love. I know.” He hushes you softly before bringing one of his hands up to his face, spitting quietly onto his palm and drags his hand downwards between your connected bodies. He holds his spit-slicked fingers near your clit so you have something to ride into. He gives you full control while still being present to give you whatever you need.

“You gonna come for me, pretty baby? S’okay. Jus’ you, me, and the moon.” His freehand never leaves your face and stays cupped around your jaw, holding you close with his thumb continuously brushing against your cheekbone.

Your needy clit bumps and brushes against his fingers, stimulating your nerves as your cunt flutters around him. You both hear the sticky squelch, the lewd slapping of sweat stained skin. It’s just enough to send you tipping over the edge, and Joel is right there to catch you.

You stay seated on him as you both recoup from your shared orgasm. His voice sounds fuzzy, staticky in your ears as he wraps his arms around you, hugging you, shielding you almost. His lips mouth at the base of your neck as your hand stays locked in his hair.

Neither of you move a muscle until Joel hears an approaching car inching up the street, headlights flooding through the darkness. He whispers against your skin as he eases you off of him, tucking the blanket around your lower half as he slips his now softened cock back into his sweats.

Once he’s up from the bench, he cards a hand through his curls momentarily. “Munchies are here, baby love.” He tucks the corner of the blanket around you, wanting you to feel comforted before he pulls out his wallet.

The DoorDash driver rolls into the driveway just as Joel licks his thumb and flips through the stack of cash. He feels pussy drunk, and still a bit high as he approaches the driver.

There’s the lingering stench of sex and weed wafting in the air as Joel greets the driver, handing him a couple hundreds in exchange for the bag of food.

The driver looks confused as he looks down at the stack of hundreds in his palm before looking back up at Joel who simply nods and gives the man a gentle clap on the shoulder.

“Have a wonderful night, man. Drive safe, okay?” Joel’s words are genuine, sincere.

The man looks up and grins, “Definitely not gonna be as nice as y'alls. Thanks man!" He tips his imaginary hat in Joel’s direction and turns on his heel to walk back to his vehicle.

Joel gives the man a friendly wave before he heads back to the porch. The smell of the burgers is positively mouth watering as he approaches you. “C’mon, baby love. Let’s eat.”

You grin up at him from your slouched position on the bench, limbs feeling pliant and jello-like and you beckon him to meet you in the middle, “Joel, how much did you give him?”

He smiles, bending down to give you a quick kiss, “Enough to make sure that he has a good night.”

Your heart swells.

-

The burgers, fries, and shakes are wolfed down from the comfort of Joel’s couch. Artemis is awake and even sees her chance to steal a fry.

It’s domestic bliss as you and Joel sit side by side, knees touching and bellies full. He departs from the couch to throw out yours and his garbage, and when he returns, he notices you fidgeting, thighs pressed together and he raises a brow, crossing his big forearms against his chest.

“Whatcha fidgetin’ so much for, baby love?” He asks and you look over at him, lower lip taken between your teeth.

“I want to suck your cock, Joel.”

He raises his brows, cocks his head to the side in an endearing manner as he looks over at you. “What have I done to deserve a blowjob from ya, huh?” He teases, feeling a flush begin to creep up his neck.

“Because you’re a good man, Joel. Please, let me take care of you after you did such a good job of taking care of me.”

It’s not long before he finds himself on the couch, thighs spread with you sitting prettily on your knees between them. His cock lays soft against his thigh, still coated in a light layer of yours and his releases.

He’s still not quite sure what he’s done to deserve the feeling of your wet, warm mouth and tongue enveloping the velvet underside of his cock, dragging your tongue across one of the prominent veins all the way up to the mushroom head.

He tilts his head back, the soft curve of his nose catching in the faint light, the muscles in his neck straining as his mouth parts open, lips still bruised from kissing you. He lets out hot, wet breaths, a rumble of a moan as his hand drifts down to cup your face gently in his big warm palm.

“Baby love, why—fuck. What did I do to deserve this? Your sweet fuckin’ mouth.” He takes a shuddered inhale, stroking his thumb against the side of your neck, just below your ear.

You release him from your mouth with a soft pop, dragging your lips and tongue down the side of him and back up again, “You’re such a good fucking man.” You drag your lips lower, sucking one of his heavy balls into your mouth, massaging them with your tongue before pulling off, “Gave that man so much money…” you give his other ball the same amount of attention as his thighs begin to quiver, “probably paid multiple bills,” you continue, “just because you're kind, Joel.”

He’s seeing stars behind his eyes when you take him into your mouth once more, fitting what you could while deepthroating him. He listened to your little choked gags as you worked your hand around whatever you couldn’t fit into your throat. He lurched forward when he felt his balls clench like a fist. He choked out your name as you released him once more, “You’re such a good fucking man.” You preen, and take him down once more.

Holy fucking shit—ring, ring, I need a ring right fucking now, he thinks.

His impending orgasm is edged when he can no longer feel the warmth of your mouth around him and his eyes snap open.

“I want you to come on my face, Joel. Please. I want you to mark me, make me yours. You're such a giver, Joel. Can you give me this? Please baby, can I have it?" You're steadily pumping your palm around his cock just to keep him stimulated enough.

He grunts out a yes, unable to form a complete sentence because he’s off in another world.

His fist replaces your own as he paints your face in hot ropes of his cum, watching the blissed out look as your eyes flutter shut, and a dopey smile etches across your face.

He’s out of breath, and fully spent when you peek an eye open, dragging your finger through a trail of his spend on your cheek and bringing that finger into your mouth, winding your tongue around it and licking it clean.

“Take a picture, Miller. It’ll last longer.” You wink.

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[b4tboys]

➣ interlude

pairing: yj!dick grayson x gn!reader

wc: 2.7K

summary: interlude — a short period when a situation or activity is different from what comes before and after it. angst no comfort, set between seasons 2 & 3 of young justice.

notes from lee: i was searching for artemis’s new boyfriend who is also bab's ex and she set them up when babs went back to her ex (obv dick) so here’s to being the interlude in their love story. alt title: heather (since it’s dec 3rd)

It just happens, as many of his exes describe. One mission, one instance that exacerbates the feelings, and then you find yourself completely surrendered to his charms as he takes you to a too-fancy dinner and worms himself into every aspect of your life.

It feels that instantaneously he has the key to your apartment, (though his ridiculous superhero ass likes to use the window) you have a large portion of his hoodies and other amounts of clothes from the times he stays over, a designated mug, and his favorite cereal.

The domesticity of it all is something you’ve wanted for a long time, and it’s perfect because you don’t have to compromise who you are and what you do. After all, he’s the same. The same sort of crazy who has devoted his life to fighting crime and helping people at the cost of everything.

This is quite possibly the happiest you’ve ever been.

But there are still your doubts about the relationship, it gnaws at the back of your mind, and it shouldn’t. It is, of course, no help that many of his former lovers share your occupation. Though they are nothing but kind you cannot help but overthink the overly touchy way they are with Dick and the way he doesn’t mind in the slightest, the attention whore he is.

He’s given you every reassurance and gentle kiss to wash away the lingering stain of uncertainty but it doesn’t seem to fade. But his romantic gestures and sly, syrupy, sweet talk push the thought to the back of your mind before it comes up and bubbles over. Though perhaps you should’ve stayed more skeptical.

It’s been a bad day, everything soured, gone sideways, south, and to shit on your mission. Even so, when you step back into your apartment it’s warm and it’s home and your lover is there to sweep you off your feet in a fit of giggles and kisses.

It’s Dick’s night off, so naturally it is also date night. ‘Date’ for you is informally defined as a nice night in, takeout, and a movie that typically goes unwatched. He’s a cheesy romantic. He likes the stupid cliches and takes notes, mentally, so naturally he’s already ordered food, lit candles, put some sort of pillowed nest together, and a movie queued and ready for the moment you stepped in the door.

He sets you down gently after spinning you around but keeps his forehead rested against yours, crooked nose brushing against yours. “Hi,” he breathes out, a big smile stretched across his face. His hands slowly unfurl your fingers from the handle of your bag until it drops to the floor so he can loosely intertwine his hand in yours instead.

You look up at him with a silly grin on your face too, “Hi.” You kiss the tip of his nose, “Someone’s ready for date night.”

“I’m always ready for *you* time, baby. Morning, noon, and night.” His hands crawl to your hips, pinching them lightly as he kisses you and then tugs your bottom lip between his teeth. Dick lets your lip go with an audible pop. “But knowing you, you want nothing more than a shower and a change of clothes. So get to it so I can have you all to myself, pretty.” He spins the two of you around so your back faces the living room and gently shoves you towards the bedroom.

When you turn to look over your shoulder at him, he just shoos you, with no pretense of joining you tonight. So you take longer than normal, to spite him and simply because you can take an uninterrupted shower.

You come out of your room, dressed in some old t-shirt he’s left in your dresser, more than ready for date night. Yet he’s all dressed up for a night out, and one he’s not taking you on. “Sorry, babe. B, got wind of Joker threatening the UN Assembly and I’m needed.”

Things feel off, like how he had his suit on him/stashed somewhere at your place or answered the call when he’s been on a technical hiatus since Wally’s death. But you just sigh, because you love your boyfriend and don't want to keep him from the mission, the job, and something he loves.

“Just come back to me, yeah?” You ask, a half-smile plastered on as you wrap your arms around him.

He gives you his smile that’s won awards, “Always.”

He does not come back to you.

At least 12 hours later, you've checked your phone, and communicator, and gotten your laptop connected to the JL’s system at least 100 times in a semi-obsessive manner. Finally, you work up the courage to ring Tim as the rays of the sunrise make their way through your living room windows.

You pace around your couch, chewing on your lip while the phone rings. And a huge sigh of relief when Tim picks up. “Hey, hi, Tim.” You rush, not letting him get a word in, “Is Dick…?” you trail off, not quite brave enough to let the words slip past your lips.

Tim clears his throat, “He said he was heading back to your place. Is he not there yet?” And like a summoning spell, the window creaks as Dick slips into your apartment. You mumble a string of thanks as you turn around to see your boyfriend, taking in the complete exhaustion he’s exuding.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Your question is accompanied by a frown and drawn brows. You don’t bother to interrogate him about not taking any time to contact you. He pushes right past you to rifle through the drawers for civvies. “Dick?”

He’s started to strip as he gives you a short answer, “Babs’ in the hospital, paralyzed, I need to go.”

Your eyes widen as you ramble out your thoughts, “What? What happened? Let me take you. I want to visit too. Does she need anything? Let’s stop and get flowers.”

He pulls a shirt over his head and buttons his jeans as he shuts you down, “No. Only authorized visitors, the fewer people that visit the better. We don’t want to risk the possibility of anyone figuring out her identity.”

“Oh, ok. At least let me drive you?” You ask, watching wearily and trailing behind him to the front door.

Dick bends to tie his shoe, before grabbing his coat from the rack and shrugging it on. “Don’t want to make you pick me up later. Bye.” He kisses your cheek, either not noticing or caring about the obvious anxiety on your face, and takes his keys.

“Bye, I love-“ you’re cut off by the door shutting, “you.” There’s no time to process his lack of ‘I love you’ because your communicator goes off, signaling you’re needed back at the watchtower.

You’ve gotten the clearance to visit Babs, and technically your boyfriend who hasn’t left her side the entire time.

You bring a bouquet of marigolds, for a bit of color and the fact they symbolize resilience, plus a get well soon card signed by everyone on the team.

When you open the door to the room, it feels like you’re intruding on an intimate moment between lovers. Dick is asleep on Barbara’s lap and he’s holding one of her hands while she uses her free hand to card through his hair.

Her head snaps to the door, clearly on guard, but relaxes when she sees it’s just you. Her hand makes no attempt at stopping its gentle caress through his tresses.

You feel gross, inferior, to the red head paralyzed in a private hospital room. But you don’t want to look insecure or by asking her to stop hogging your boyfriend or stop playing with his hair. So you put on a smile and set down the vase and the card on the bedside table.

“Hey, just checking in on ya. The team got you a get well soon card. We’re all worried and hoping for your recovery and as soon as you’re out, the girls want to take you out for mani-pedis.” You look down at your still sleeping boyfriend. “Dick been giving you trouble?”

She looks down at him and smiles, a fond smile that you know you make when you look at him. “No, no, he’s been great, keeping me company and treating me like glass.”

You gnaw on your lip, not quite sure how to react to everything going on in front of you. It’s pretty obvious that she is still in love with him and you’ll bet he is too. “Glad he’s treating you well. I’ve got to get going, but happy you’re still with us. Keep us updated, because B is trying to keep a lid on what’s happening, I know the girls would appreciate it.”

Barbara nods, “Yeah, will do. Been missing my outside communication, but you know how these Bats are.” She laughs lightly, like you know what she’s talking about, like you also have some sort of overprotective circle for yourself. All you can do is nod and smile before leaving.

As you walk through the hospital and out to the parking lot, you know you’re about to cry. You can feel the heavy weight of emotions in your chest and the waterfall of tears begging to come out as it sits right behind your eyes. But you don’t even get the time to process it, because once again, you’re needed in the watchtower. At least now you weren’t lying about needing to go.

It’s been another hard mission, and it’s clear to everyone that your head isn’t in the game. M’gann makes a mention of being there to talk, but you brush it off, because everything is just noise right now.

The alpha squad you had been assigned to just looks at you and you can’t tell if it’s pity or worry that’s mars their gazes, and you wonder if they all know, if they feel sorry.

You duck out first, unable to not feel like a zoo animal in this situation. You try your hardest to maintain a neutral facade for the team, not needing them to see your emotions and prod, before you zeta back to Gotham.

When you make it back to your apartment, all the gear comes off immediately and you wrap yourself in a sweatshirt of Dick’s and bundle yourself on his side of the bed even though it no longer smells like him.

The watery eyes and quivering lip come out as you wait for him to pick up your video call and unfortunately you’re surprised he does. You need an ear to vent to, to get some reassurance, but it just devolves into an argument.

“Barbara needs me,” he says firmly, running a hand down his face with a sigh as he leans against the bland walls of the hospital hallway.

You’ve quickly lost your wits, not ok with his non-answer or seeming apathy. “Why does it have to be you?! There’s a whole team of people concerned for her, a whole brood of Bats. Is it so much to ask for my boyfriend’s time right now?”

You watch as he bites his tongue over the phone, presumably trying to not lash out and call you all the nasty things you’re thinking about yourself as you beg for just a shred of his attention. You know that it’s selfish and dumb, but you also know you shouldn’t have to fight for his attention and time.

You curl into yourself, backing down, and apologizing for getting emotional when you know you shouldn’t have to. “I’m sorry, I just- I need you right now. I need you to tell me you love me still,” you plead quietly, feeling so small and stupid for practically grovelling.

“You know I do, but god dammit, I can't always be there. That’s how this life goes, why can’t you just trust me when I say I do and believe me?”

It's very easy to pick up the lack of him even saying the word ‘love’. You can’t hold back the questions that feel more like accusations, “How am I supposed to trust that when you’re spending all your time with your ex-girlfriend?”

“You know it’s not like that. You know.” He almost hisses, like he’s sick of trying to defend their close relationship to you.

“Do I?” You ask quietly.

He sighs, “Look, I’ll see you later, ok?”

“She's still in love with you.“ You blurt before he can hang up. “She’s still in love with you and I want to know if you are too.”

He blinks slowly, clearly taken aback, “This-this is not an over the phone conversation.” He takes a moment, trying to see if you’re going to say anything as he purses his lips. When you don’t say anything he says goodbye again, “I’ll see you soon.”

Your phone goes to the home screen after he hangs up, it’s a picture of you and him. Of him laughing as he squished your cheeks, looking at you like you put all the stars and constellations in the sky. But you were nothing more than a consolation, a second place prize, if that.

It’s not long before he’s coming through the door, not the window, with a lopsided grin on his face, “Told you, soon.”

You watch him as he approaches the bed and sits at the end of it. The smile disappears and his face grows serious as his hand finds your knee through the comforter. “Baby, I’m sorry that I’m not giving you what you need right now.”

“That wasn’t the question I asked. Do you love her?” You ask, having to be confrontational in this moment, because otherwise you know he’ll talk his way out of it and find some way to make you feel like it’s your fault.

“It’s not a yes or no kind of question, because of course I do. I’ve known her for years. I love her as my friend and teammate.” He can’t look at you, rubbing circles into your knee.

“Damn it, Dick, just break up with me!” You screech, it’s not a request, but a demand. “You can’t even tell me you love me anymore. Did you ever?”

“I don’t want to break up with you though. I like what we have, it’s,” he pauses, “comfortable.” He’s side stepping the question again.

Your brows scrunch together, “Is that how you’d describe our relationship? Comfortable?” You take a moment to turn that over in your head. Why is it comfortable and not loving or fun or safe? But you answer your own question, “Because you’re settling. Dick, honestly, just tell me that you want to go back to her. Stop dragging me along through your drawn out feelings for Barbara.”

He sighs, finally resigned to telling the truth, “I’m sorry.” And for the first time it feels like he’s being genuine. “You’re just not her. And it wasn’t right of me to use you to get over her, I know that.”

“But you’re not over her,” you say, looking at him for confirmation. He shakes his head. You swallow thickly, “I’ll get all your stuff packed up.” You draw your knees in closer to yourself, forcing his hand to pull away.

The finality of your statement hangs in the air until he accepts it quietly, “Ok.”

You hear him stand up when the bed squeaks, but you don’t look at him. You don’t look when you hear him walk out of the bedroom and fiddle with his keys and take the one to the apartment off the key ring or open the door and take a minute before shutting it. How can you when your vision is blurred with tears?

Not even a week later you watch Dick roll Barbara, finally discharged and in a wheelchair, into the tower and kiss her. It makes you sick. You would never be her.

[freakingholland]

Lovebirds times two - YJ!Dick Grayson x fem!reader

A/N: Is this another fluffy fic that contributes to the “Dick Grayson looks gorgeous and can have any woman” trope? Maybe! (yes) But we deserve happy Dick alongside happy Spitfire, okay? I’ll write something agst-ish some time I promise!

Warnings: not proofread! fluffy af, a couple of swear words, slightly suggestive dialogue but nothing nsfw. If I missed anything, please let me know!

Summary: Heroes do get to attend weddings every once in a while. It's especially exciting, when it's a dear friends' ceremony.

Word count: 1.4K +

If you enjoyed my work, you could buy me coffee here: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland

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_

“I love these two with my entire heart but HOLY FUCK— I really don’t feel like getting ready today…” you whined sheepishly as you were in the middle of putting moisturizer over your freshly washed face. You and your significant other were in the middle of your preparations for your dear friends’ wedding. It was Artemis and Wally’s big day.

“Don’t even get me started. I told you we could get somebody to get your makeup and hair done. You can’t complain now.” Dick responded with slight frustration in his voice. It was obvious that he wasn’t actually mad at you, just not necessarily content with the fact that despite being in a committed relationship for so many years you still had trouble with making use of the benefits that came along with dating one of the Wayne’s sons.

“No, no don’t get me wrong babe I would appreciate that, it’s just— I feel a bit lazy today, wish I could just snap my fingers and get ready magically. If you know what I mean.”

“—plus, I don’t trust people with my face and hair, being comfy in my own skin is my top priority for today. I can’t wait to get there and have fun with our fam. I’ve been really looking forward to tonight.”

Dick walked over from the sink where he was previously finishing brushing his raven, still slightly wet and disheveled bangs. He had a towel wrapped tightly around his hips as he had just gotten out of the shower. The entire bathroom smelled like his strongly, yet freshly scented cosmetics. Seeing Richard in his work uniform and in his Nightwing suit is one thing, but seeing your partner clean and well-rested in the comfort of your shared apartment is another thing. Regardless of your lengthy relationship you still felt butterflies circling around in your stomach at this rare sight.

He wrapped his arms tightly around your hips and rested his chin in the crook of your neck, tickling you with his hair.

“Me too hun.” He responded while exhaling deeply against your bare, moist back. His warm embrace prolonged for another couple of seconds. You could easily tell Dick also felt sentimental about being home and being able to enjoy normal life. Whatever normal life means.

“Kay- I’ll let you do your thing now.” Before leaving the bathroom to start dressing up Dick took your face in his calloused hands and planted a quick kiss on your forehead. Dick crinkled his nose.

“God you’re pretty.” He was shaking his head on his way to your bedroom.

With a genuine smile on your face, you continued with the preparations.

*

You did not let slight sluggishness take over your body and you managed to get ready within an hour. Dick didn’t have the opportunity to see your outfit yet, after he had finished getting ready, he slumped on the sofa to watch TV and kill some time as he patiently waited for you to get ready. You walked into your living room and as soon as your partner heard your shoes click on the floor, he quickly turned to examine your look for the festive night.

“Oh wow- love. You look fantastic.” He quickly got up from the sofa to take a closer look. He soaked up the joy that you brought him with just your groomed appearance and a genuine smile, while eyeing you up and down with a huge grin plastered across his unwearied face.

Dick was wearing a black tuxedo paired with a white button up shirt, a black bowtie, and black oxfords. He also sported a watch with a black leather strap.

“You don't look too bad yourself sir…”

“—who am I kidding, GOD I love your hair! It’s so shiny!”

He chuckled at your answer and swept a strand of his thick bangs to the side.

“I think we should speed up this whole wedding thing and actually rent out a venue, you know?” you continued. After you said that your and Dick’s eyes laid on your engagement ring.

Dick sincerely cares about your wishes when it comes to retaining of your personal aesthetic, it took him a couple of visits at different jewelry shops in Gotham to choose a proper engagement ring. Despite knowing you well he still needed someone’s assistance - or rather mental reassurance that he’s making the right choice. That’s why Dick invited Bruce to participate in the important opting. They ended up choosing a white gold band with a small emerald-cut sapphire.

Talk about cheesiness. But the said cheesiness is one of the reasons why your bond was and is so strong. Your lives don’t stray from the hardships and sorrow in spite of the additional, demanding chapter that is your partner’s and your service as a literal heroes. Both Dick and you have your problems and traumas, but the two of you putting in the effort to communicate well, be patient and to keep your spirits up is what works well - as your relationship’s binder.

“And my hair is all that it takes for you to say that?”

“—I’m starting to get worried that we might be together just because you think I’m so fucking sexy.”

“We’re also together because of your humbleness…” Your answer caused Dick to roll his eyes. The grounding remark didn’t stop him from giving you a peck on the lips. As your lips parted, he threw a quick glance at his watch and slowly started going towards your kitchen. He went to grab a set of keys that was lying on the island, as well as a previously prepared bag of necessities such as band aids and emergency trainers.

“Are we ready my beautiful lady?” he offered you his arm in a jokingly chalant manner. You quickly grabbed your clutch bag and a coat.

“Ummm, I think we are now.” After double checking if you have everything that both of you needed to comfortably celebrate among your dearest companions as well as your precious gift, you started walking towards the door of your apartment.

*

Your best friends’ wish was to get married in Gotham City regardless of it being your usual work location. The ceremony was set to take place in a small palace, close to the border of the city. When you had arrived at the scene it was drizzling, the air felt very humid and had a pleasant earthy scent. But said weather didn’t interfere with the charm of such a special evening.

After the lovely wedding ceremony everyone drove to a beautifully decorated restaurant. The tables looked very minimalistic, even so the entire place was filled with beige and light pink flowers – carnations, lilies, roses. Artemis’ effort really paid off because the place looked both elegant and warm. Partially because of a gentle glow that bathed the entire area.

The newlyweds were beaming with happiness. They looked physically relaxed now that the official part of the evening was over. They were making sure to spare some time for every single guest, whether it was to chat with them or to take a picture. Right before one of the hot meals you managed to catch them and take the two to the side, in order to give them their special gift.

Both of them teared up when you and Dick handed them a large oil painting of the pair, which was based on a photo from a trip that the four of you went on a couple of years ago.

“There is no way! You guys! That’s beautiful, I really don’t know what to say…,” said Wally. Artemis was so taken aback that she remained silent while her now husband continued his thanks. Their eyes were glistening with happy tears and that warmed your heart.

*

You twirled with a slight laugh escaping your lips. Dick’s strong arms quickly embraced your figure to keep you closer to his warm body.

“I’m so glad we chose that photo for the painting. They were in awe.”

“I was in awe when I saw you in that outfit. You’re right, I’m getting us a venue tomorrow.”

“And you laughed at me when I complemented your hair!” you playfully smacked Dick’s chest. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your faux mad expression. That was the Y/N that he fell in love with.

He slumped his shoulders to close the distance between you two as you softly swayed to the rhythm of a slower song.

“I’m so glad that I have you angel.” He leaned into your ear and whispered.

“Soon to be Mrs. Grayson. All mine.”

-

If you get the “god you’re pretty" reference I love you.

Stay whelmed xx

Tori

[athenagc94]

Dear Daddy Long Legs - Chapter 10

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

TW: Underage drinking, sobriety, triggered PTSD

First | Prev | Next

Chapter 10

Dear Weird Mr. Rich Man—  

Sorry. Tell me if I’ve gone too far with these.  

I’ve made friends! I know that has nothing to do with my studies, but We can both agree that socialization has its benefits. It’s an important piece of one’s college experience. I’m sure you have a few stories from your wild college days…  

Maybe you could tell me about them sometime?  

Or not.  

Probably not.  

But it’s nice, feeling like I finally have a foothold in this strange new world. At first, I felt out of place, but I think I’m finally getting the hang of this. It only took a few months.  

Colored lights flashed in time with the heavy bass pouring through the speakers over Jason’s head. It was only slightly louder than the shouts and clink of glasses happening around them. He teetered on the cusp of a sensory nightmare, but he shoved the discomfort aside to focus on what Roy was saying.  

He rarely went to clubs. The noise, the lights, the sheer number of people packed into a confined place spelled trouble for him, but it was Roy’s turn to pick their hangout spot. Even though he stopped drinking a year ago, he liked to surround himself with the noise and bustle of the club. Jason couldn’t relate, but it had been months since they’d had a chance to get away from their busy lives and catch up. He could suck it up for his sake.  

It wasn’t the ideal place to talk, but Roy managed it just fine. “Lian lost another tooth this week.” He angled his phone toward Jason.  

He leaned forward, squinting at the offensively bright screen.  

“Put on your glasses,” Roy said before muttering a soft, “Stubborn fuck,” under his breath.  

Jason scoffed as he grabbed the glasses that hung off his collar. He avoided wearing them when he could. Not only did it not help the nerd allegations, but glasses weren’t the most practical for his line of work. “I wear them to block blue light.”  

“Uh huh.”  

A dunk in the Lazarus Pit fixed a lot of things, but his penchant for splitting migraines was not one of them. He also had a bad habit of reading without an overhead light, but correlation did not equal causation in this scenario. He slid the glasses up his nose with a soft huff and he could finally focus on the photo on Roy’s phone.  

Lian smiled back at him, showing off several gaps in her teeth. He could see Roy the slightly crooked smile and the wrinkle of mischief around her eyes.  

“She’s getting so big.”  

“Tell me about it.” Roy sighed wistfully as he straightened his frayed ball cap. “I fear the day she starts calling me dad instead of daddy . Or God forbid she switches to father like that little demon spawn does with Bruce.”  

“How will you ever survive,” Jason teased as he sipped his soda.  

Roy smirked. Ah, there was that wrinkle of mischief. “I heard through the grapevine that I’m not the only one getting called daddy these days.”  

Jason sputtered, the carbonated fizz burning his nostrils. He wiped his mouth and sneered. So, this was his plan all along. An ambush. It was suspicious for Roy to call him out of the blue. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy hanging out with him, but it was odd that it happened to coincide perfectly with his return to Gotham.  

“I told Artemis it wasn’t like that.”  

“Hey, man, I’m the last person to judge. I like to be called—” He stopped himself, much to Jason’s relief. That was information he could live without. Roy settled on a light punch to the arm instead. “Do you want to talk about it?”  

“No.”  

He downed his drink, despite the unpleasant roil in his belly. The song filtering through the speakers switched to something more upbeat. A cheer ripped through the crowd, and he flinched.  

“But if I did, what would you say? Hypothetically, of course.”  

“Hypothetically, I would say that I’m glad to hear you’re putting yourself out there again. I know you’d never admit it, but the breakup with Artemis hit you hard. This is good…” He bobbed his head thoughtfully. “Though the execution seems a little eh, but I’m not as romantic as you are, so what the fuck do I know? It wouldn’t hurt to try your luck with a civilian partner. Heroes have their perks, but so do civilians.”  

Jason chewed his lip. “I never said I wanted to date her.”  

“You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face.”  

Jason thought things would get easier once he distanced himself but not seeing you for nearly two months left him feeling oddly empty. He thought distracting himself with the Outlaws or Park Row patrols, but his mind always wandered back to you. He tried to pinpoint when exactly this crush developed, but he couldn’t settle on a singular moment. It just kind of snuck up on him.  

Still, he stayed away. You never asked for his attention, even if he to sit on your floor and read to you until you fell asleep, to touch—  

Roy waved a hand in front of his face, dragging him back. He forced himself to refocus. “What?”  

“I lost ya there for a second. Care to tell me where you went?”  

Not particularly, but Jason tried anyway. “My life is dangerous. It’s inconsistent, and I have a habit of disappearing when things get tough. I can’t put a civilian’s life needlessly in danger like that. It’s not f—”  

“Shot time!”  

Jason looked up as you passed their table, dragged by none other than Stephanie fucking Brown, in all her sparkly purple glory. And you—  

His eyes widened.  

He’d never seen you wear anything except that ill-fitting button up and slacks. He now realized that was a small mercy granted by the heavens because hot damn . You wore a pair of torn black jeans and a tight red shirt that showed off the contours of your body. It was the jacket though, beaten brown leather, two sizes too large, and obviously thrifted, that dried his throat.  

You looked like…  

He muffled the pathetic whine that pressed through his lips. You and Steph stopped at the bar, the latter muttering low in your ear with a twinkle in her eye. You threw your head back and laughed. Jealousy reared its ugly head as Jason stared.  

Since when were you two friends?  

“Jay?” He tore his eyes away from you to look at Roy. Concern furrowed his brow. “Are you sure you’re alright? If this is too much, we can go somewhere el—”  

Over his shoulder, you and Step clinked glasses before knocking back a shot.  

“No!”  

His expression grew more severe. “No?”  

Jason splayed his hands flat on the sticky table. “I mean, we just got here. Next round is one me. Club soda with a twist of lime, right?”  

Roy looked conflicted, but only for a moment. “Yes.”  

He shoved out of his chair. “Be right back.”  

Sweaty bodies pressed in from all side as he aimed for the bar. Your back was to him as you spoke with the bartender. God, you looked great. Casual, but effortlessly so. You didn’t have to do much to turn heads, and you had certainly garnered the bartender's attention.  

You can do this , he told himself. Make it look natural. Jason could strategize and plot with the best of them. Talking to you wasn’t nearly as complicated as infiltrating Black Mask’s base or apprehending a—  

“Babe, get down before you hurt you—”  

Before Jason could react, he hit the ground. Beer dripped from his curls and soaked the front of his shirt. He straightened his glasses as he turned his ire on the dumbass that had fallen on top of him. “What the fuck, man?”  

Tim stared at him with flushed cheeks.  

He stared back.  

“How’d you get in?” Tim muffled a hiccup as he stumbled to his feet. Jason jumped up to catch him before he fell back onto his face, though it would have been objectively hilarious to see. “You don’t have a valid ID.”  

“This is front for one of my dealers. I’m technically their boss, so they couldn’t turn me away if they wanted to.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re underage. How’d you get in?”  

“I’m Timothy Drake.” Jason could smell the mix of hard liquor and beer on his breath. “Do you really think they’re going to kick me and my friends out?”  

God, the entitlement.  

“Friends?” Jason seethed, “How many people did you smuggle in with you?”  

“Bernard and Steph. She brought a friend too. Whatever. The more the merrier. I don’t usually take the night off, so Bart came in from Central, and Kon flew down from Metropolis…”   

He counted them off on his fingers, but he quickly lost the plot and trailed off. He went a little cross-eyed as he tried to find his train of thought again. Jason crossed his arms and waited. He wiggled his fingers as if it were the most fascinating thing.  

“Tim,” Jason pressed.  

He finally refocused. “A few others too. I’m not going to list them off. It would take too long. I know that’s not something you’re used to.”  

His nostrils flared. “I have friends. I’m here with a friend now.”  

“So, Roy.”  

He searched for the right answer. There wasn’t one.  

“Did someone say shots!” Steph pushed through the crowd with two more glasses. She shoved one into Tim’s hands before throwing her shot back. Her expression puckered before she opened her eyes, zeroing in on Jason. Her smile turned feline. “Well, well. This is a surprise.”  

His attention shifted over her shoulder to where you hung back. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. You met his gaze with a narrow look. God, he missed your blatant distrust.  

Steph clocked the tension between you immediately and decided to help by introducing you. “And this is Ja—”  

“Jacob,” he cut in quickly, “My name is Jacob.”  

His heart raced. While objectively the smart move, he’d just dug himself a bigger hole by giving you a fake name. Steph would never let him live this down, and Tim—Jason dreaded to think what Tim had to say about all this. He willed the ground to swallow him whole.  

“Have we met before?”  

He struggled to catch his breath. “Don’t think so. I just have one of those faces, I guess.”  

“Right.” You nudged Steph. “I’ll go wait for our drinks.”  

“Don’t forget to put it on my tab,” Tim insisted as you turned away. His knowing smile rankled Jason. He curled and uncurled his fists. A quick punch to the throat. That was all it would take to wipe that smug look off his face.  

“You knew it was her.”  

Tim shrugged as he downed his shot, confirming nothing, but this was Tim. Of course, he knew who you were.  

“Um, hello, am I missing something?” Steph flicked a damp curl over her shoulder. “Why are we using fake names? Unless that’s what you want to be called now? If so, I’m totally in support of your journey, though Jacob is a little basic. You look more like a—”  

Tim mercifully cut her off, “He can’t let her know his real name.”  

She blinked. “Why?”  

“Drop it.” Jason craned his neck to keep an eye on you. “It’s not important.”  

“If we’re changing our names, it’s gotta be somewhat important.”  

“I’ll tell you in the morning,” Tim assured her.  

“Is it juicy?”  

“If by juicy, you mean kind of pathetic, then yeah.”  

Steph bounced giddily on the balls of her feet. “Oh my god.”  

Jason tuned them out as he settled solely on you. God, that jacket looked amazing on you. For a second, he imagined it was his instead. If it was, that bartender would stop looking at you with those heavy bedroom eyes. He was tall, but Jason was much taller. His skin was smooth and unblemished.  

Did you like that kind of thing?  

He glanced down at the discolored knicks and scars that marred the back of his hands. They didn’t bother him as much anymore. Each mark told his story. At least, that’s what Talia tried to instill on him when he lived in Nanda Parbat. You liked a good story.  

Fuck it , he thought as he abandoned them to head toward the bar. It was too late to pretend he never saw you, and there was no way he was letting this moment slip through his fingers. You did a double take as he sat next to you, effectively startling the bartender who had leaned across the bar to flirt with you.  

“A club soda with lime and a Coke.”  

He cleared his throat and moved to make Jason’s drinks.  

You studied him for a second, your expression unreadable. “Not drinking?”  

Jason forced himself to look at you. It had been easier with the helmet, but tonight, there was nothing to protect him from the full brunt of your gaze.  

“My friend doesn’t drink, so I don’t either when we hang out.”  

“I’m sure they appreciate that.”  

It wasn’t a direct compliment, but his heart swelled all the same. “Nah, it’s not a big deal. Drinking by myself isn’t all that fun.” He cleared his throat. “Not that I would know.”  

“I never assumed that you did.”  

He forced himself to laugh. It effectively killed the mood, and you turned back to the bar, seemingly content to have things end there. Jason was not, but he struggled to come up with something to say. His gaze fell to your jacket once more.  

“So, leather?”  

“Leather?” you echoed as you bit back a smile.  

“I mean, your jacket. It’s leather.”  

You feigned shock. “Really? I had no idea.”  

He choked on another laugh. Fuck, this was going a lot worse than he pictured it in his head, but he pressed on anyway, “I have one too.”  

“Yeah?”  

“I mean, I think it looks—” His head spun. “You look—”  

A hand clapped down on his shoulder. “And here I thought you left me high and dry.”  

Jason sagged with relief as Roy settled next to him, sparing him from the embarrassment of finishing that thought. His relief faded when Roy’s gaze shifted to you, his easy smile turning rueful.  

“Is he bothering you, sweetheart?”  

“Not at all,” you said as the bartender dropped off your drinks. Two in front of you, and two in front of him.   

It barely registered, his beef with the bartender forgotten now that he was faced with the terrifying realization that every conversation with you ended in him acting like a bumbling fool. His mouth worked, but no words came out.  

“But I think he might be short-circuiting.”  

Roy chuckled. “Yeah, he gets a little shy around a pretty face.”  

You smirked as you sipped your drink. “Flirting on his behalf. Now, that’s a good friend.”  

Jason shoved him away, gritting his teeth. “Ignore him. We were just leaving. Sorry to both—”  

“Please. No need to stop on my account,” Roy insisted, ever the helpful one. Jason resisted the urge to smack him. “I think you were about to compliment her jacket, right?”  

“He was,” you agreed, “But I’ll spare him from doing so in front of you.” Your hand fell to his shoulder as you leaned in. Tequila sharpened your breath, fanning across his skin. If he turned his head just a fraction, you’d be nose to nose, your lips sinfully close. He stayed still as stone, shoving that mental image from his mind.   

You whispered in his ear, “If you want to try again, you know who I came with. I’ll even pretend this isn’t our first time meeting, Mr. Darcy.”  

Ice coated his veins.   

“A pair of glasses isn’t enough to fool me, though I’d be lying if I said you didn’t look good.” You squeezed his shoulder and walked away.  

He stayed facing the bar, too stunned to move, to speak, hell, he wasn’t even sure if he was breathing any more.  

“That her?”  

A low whine wrenched from his throat.  

Roy took a long sip from his drink. “Everything makes sense now. Your lifestyle has nothing to do with why you’re against dating. You suck at flirting.”  

“That’s not true.”  

“Did you hear yourself before?”  

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Okay, fine, but that’s only part of it. I know all this stuff about her, but I can’t tell her that without looking like a weirdo. I want to do this right, but I don’t know how to begin. What do I do?”  

Insane that he was turning to Roy of all people for dating advice. He loved the guy, but his track record with women was not the best.  

“You could ask her to dance?”  

If Jason had pearls, he would have clutched them. “Have you lost your mind?”  

“Dude.” He flicked him between the eyes. “I know you haven’t had a whole lot of experience with flirting, but that —” He pointed to where you disappeared in the crowd. “That was a clear invitation to follow her. And if you play your cards right, you could end the night like them.”  

Roy then pointed to where Tim balanced precariously on another table. He dragged Bernard up with him this time, his mouth sealed over his in a sloppy kiss. Bernard held a beer in one hand as he grabbed his ass with the other.  

Jason averted his gaze. “Yeah, okay, let me try making it through a conversation without looking like a dumbass first.”  

“Whatever floats your boat, man, but this your shot. Take it.”  

He wiped his sticky palms on his jeans. “I thought you wanted to hang out with me.”  

“I can survive,” he insisted, “Who knows? Maybe I’ll call Dick so we can watch the shit show together.”  

“Dickie is too busy being Bludhaven’s golden boy to care about my non-existent love life.” Jason hadn’t heard from his brother in months, which was probably for the best. Things were easier when they didn’t talk. Reminded him of the days before he bit the dust.  

“I think he’d make an exception for this,” Roy countered with a sharp smile, “This is the best entertainment I've had in years. Now, I need to know how you bagged a baddie like Artemis. I thought you had hidden charm, but that’s clearly not the case.”  

Jason clamped down on his irritation. “Are you done?”  

“Almost.” Roy considered him thoughtfully. “Is it the curly hair? It must be, right? I can’t think of anything else that would—”  

“Roy.”  

He waved him off. “Alright, fine. I’m done now. Are you going to ask her to dance or what?”  

Continuing his relationship with you as Jacob wasn’t the worst decision he’s made where you were concerned. It was closest he’d ever get to being himself around you. No more skirting around under the guise of protocol or chance meetings on fire escapes. He could finally meet you halfway, on equal footing.   

He stood with hardened resolve.  

Roy clapped him on the back. “Atta boy. Go get her.”  

Anxiety prickled his skin as he headed into the crowd to find you. All the while, he tried to convince himself that this was an invitation and that you wouldn’t laugh in his face when he asked you to dance. He didn’t dance, but he would do it for you.   

Jason could picture it now. His hands dipping under that jacket to grip your hips, pulling you flush against his body as you moved to the music. Your breath mingling with his as he pressed his forehead to yours. Words had betrayed him tonight, but he could make his actions count.  

He caught a blur of red hair, then blonde hair, then the outline of a man who was undoubtedly half-Kryptonian. He found Tim’s entourage, so that meant you had to be—  

Someone laughed.   

It grated on his ears, warping until it bordered on hysterical.  

Something snapped inside him.  

It couldn’t be his laugh, he tried to rationalize.  

He was rotting in Arkham.  

He closed his eyes, starbursts painting the back of his eyelids. They looked an awful lot like explosions. His breath shallowed as he pressed his palms over his eyes in a vain attempt to shove the image from his mind.  

No.  

No.  

No .  

Not here.  

Not now.  

He staggered back as a familiar panic twined through his chest.  

It was suddenly too loud, too bright, too warm—like fire. Flames. He smelled smoke. He tugged desperately at his collar, but it failed to alleviate the tension in his throat.  

Suddenly, he was moving.  

A chill it into his skin as he exited the club. Where he went, he had no idea, but he needed to get away. Somewhere quieter, somewhere darker, somewhere that didn’t remind him of that night.  

Eventually, he sank to his knees, slush and snow soaking through his jeans as he willed his head to stop spinning. He focused on the ground, the feel of the rough asphalt under his palms. He counted his breaths. One, two, three —all the way to ten . His fists tightened as he held his breath, then released the tension on the exhale.  

His vision felt too sharp, too real, but his mind finally slowed as he slowly regained control of his body. He released another shaky breath, tears in his eyes.  

Jason hadn’t had an episode this bad in a while.  

Small things could trigger him—like forcing himself into a packed club with all that stimulation. God, he was an idiot to push himself like that. He should have left when Roy suggested it.   

Roy.  

He abandoned him.  

Fuck .  

On top of everything, he was a shit friend too.  

Anger twined with his shame and fear. He punched the ground. And again. Over and over until his knuckles bled. His next breath broke on a sob as he folded in half, his forehead pressed to the concrete.  

To think, he almost fooled himself into believing he had a chance at something normal—something good. Things would never pan out between you two. You deserved someone better. Someone less fucked in the head. He distanced himself for a reason. This was why.  

---------------

A/N: Haha. That was fun until it wasn't. Until next time!

[firinnie]

Book 21 of the Iliad is my favorite

Ares calls Athena "dog-fly" and challenges her to a battle… only to be lying on the ground a minute later. Athena pulls his hand and WITH HERA'S PERMISSION walks up to Aphrodite, punches her in the boob and literally gives the pair of lovers a parent talk. Hera smiles at this situation.

Athena defeated him with a thrown stone at btw. What a legend.

Hera literally calls Artemis "bold b*tch", grabs her hands and hits her with her own bow with a big smile, and then girl runs crying to her daddy to be comforted. These are interesting aspects of Zeus and his wife.

Anyway, Apollo learns from his sister's mistakes and does not agree to fight with Poseidon. Good move Apollo.

Hera calls Hephaestus "glorious son"! … and em "crook-footed child" too … BUT GLORIUS SON!

To Ares, in turn, affectionately calls "bane of men."

Apollo takes a mortal whom Achilles fought and transforms into him himself, and because of that one runs away and the other chases him across the entire battlefield like a cat and mouse. The god transforms into a mortal to organize 1 on 1 marathon. This is hilarious.

Apollo is called "Son of Zeus, lord of the silver bow-" wait, silver??? Not gold? Hut, this is interesting. For comparison, Ares has a "bronze spear" here.

Athena and Poseidon join forces to save Achilles' ass in human forms. I don't know, I really like their duo who for once don't want to kill each other. And I know it's her title but still, when Poseidon calls his niece "PALLAS Athena", I don't know, it makes me feel good.

"Athena's tasseled aegis, which even Zeus' thunderbolts could NOT pierce-" ... well, too bad that Epic was inspired by the Odyssey and not the Iliad lol.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for dating Artemis Crock and being in the Batfamily

Artemis Crock x reader

warnings:

a/n: ok vibes actually reader will be LOOSELY based on an oc (like au oc if anything their background just makes sense for this!) i also struggled trying to figure out if i wanted this to be a younger artemis or older artemis and i went for younger i suppose?

prompt: anonymous: “Artemis crook x male reader who is the son of Batman”

you and artemis had known each other since the beginning of the Team

you were probably one of the only people on the team that didn’t make her feel insecure about her past or meet her with any hostility when she joined up

well, also, you had deduced her identity in a week (and it wasn’t even priority you just figured it out a week after meeting her)

“i wouldn’t listen to them. they don’t know what you’ve been through—they’re just insecure because you know what you’re doing” -you

“and how would you know that?” -artemis, defensively

“paula nguyen. lawrence crock.” -you

“wha—how—who??” -artemis

“i was a shadow once, not too long ago. i know what it’s like to not be trusted—but you need to trust first if you can” -you

“easier said than done” -artemis

“how do you think i became batman’s protégé?” -you

you let artemis take her time with things, after all—with the fragility of the new team, maybe she was right to feel out her options

but you extending that olive branch really built a connection with her

and it only grew stronger when you backed her up to people like wally and roy

“roy, what do you know? you walked away, you don’t have a say in these matters. ollie knows what he’s doing, what makes you think you know better?” -you, in front of half the JL and the team

“i—i think you need to step back, y/n. this doesn’t concern you” -“roy”

“she’s on my team, she’s one of ours. if you stayed, maybe we would hear you out, but you’re the one who needs to step back” -you

“thanks for that, his face was priceless!” -artemis as soon as you split from the group

you became a shoulder to lean on since youw ere so familiar with the life and the shadows and you never judged someone based on what they couldn’t control

and you let her get comfortable with her past on her own, but she always asked for advice

and what the shadows were like up close, you knew she worried for jade most of all

“what’s up with you and the new girl? you got a soft spot for moles?” -wally

“no, but i have a soft spot for your mom” -you

“touché. i’ll get you back for that” -wally

dick also knew artemis’s secret, but you’d warned him against input

“you don’t know what a secret like that means. especially in a group like this. she’s…she’s different, dick” -you

“sounds like you’ve got a crush on her” -dick

“oh yeah? and what’s going on with you and zatanna” -you

“shut up! do not” -dick

“both of you, quiet” -bruce

“sorry, b” -both of you

when artemis eventually revealed her secret to the team, eyes were on you

“you knew all of this?” -kaldur

“of course. i’m a shadow and a bat. i would have figured it out with respect to either identity” -you

“well, i appreciate you encouraging artemis to share this when she was ready” -kaldur

and she did too, and she gave you a big hug and burst into tears once the relief poured over her

“i have another secret, y/n. i really like you” -artemis

“well i have a secret, too…i know” -you

you shared a kiss and went about business with a new sense of urgency to nip this situation in the bud

and also, you knew cheshire and sportsmaster prior to your defection (sportsmaster moreso)

they were pleased to see your relationship bloom

“well, babygirl, apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. you’re dating a shadow?” -sportsmaster

“i’m dating a bat” -artemis

“once a shadow…” -cheshire

“yeah? what do you know?” -you

artemis was pretty pleased you could argue with her family so well

speaking of family, paula was thrilled when you started coming over to the apartment

“i never thought i’d see the day my artemis brought over a friend, much less someone so important to her! usually she’s embarrassed, you know how she gets” -paula

“mom!” -artemis

and vice versa

“artemis. glad to have you. hopefully y/n will be a good host” -bruce

“can you sound any more robotic, b?” -you

“can you stop going off mission, y/n?” -bruce

you and artemis spent the next few years doing what you do best, while she pulled away from the Life, it was all you’d known and you dont think you could put your weapons down

“will you be home tonight?” -artemis

“i…i’m not sure, batman has me on a stakeout for a possible joker sighting. jason and all…” -you

“i understand. wish i could be there” -artemis

“it’s okay, i know you have exams” -you

but just because your relationship had lows didn’t mean it didn’t have highs, you supported her work and she did the same for you

plus, your family (adoptive) happened to be rich, you could afford the “night life” and you always made up for it

“you know, y/n. i’ve been thinking about when we met—im just…i don’t know, thankful? i don’t know how i would have put my issues aside without you.” -artemis

“trust me, you’d have been able to do it without me. you just got lucky to meet someone with your unique background” -you

“love you”

“love you too”

taglist: @summersimmerus // @azazel-nyx // @ravenstrueluv // @captainshazamerica // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

[vodrae]

Batfamily members being fitness influencers

Bruce : 4 hours uncut podcast, can't go two sentences without quoting 12 studies.

Dick : Talking about discipline but most importantly being proud of ourself and having fun.

Barbs : Talking about the difficulties to stay active in a wheelchair without taboo, and how positive it can be to join a club to see we are not alone.

Jason : "Big weitz, big moocles !" *Get lifted by Artemis*

Cass : How to fight and practice swan Lake at the same time, part 1

Tim : Get roast by his family everytime he speaks about the importance of rest. Joke on them, nobody sleeps in this family. Also often filmed with his not at all obvious crush 6'3 best friend from Metropolis with muscles made of steel.

Steph : Get viral dancing when she spots a tripod in the gym. Is in the background watching cass like a pile of waffles.

Harper : Krav Maga tutorial. Is probably responsible of 12 crooks going blind this week.

Duke : How to not touch the bar early even if we know the guy won't get this rep.

Damian : Lightsaber tutorials are less suspicious than katana's one.

Harley and Selina : How to integrate gymnastic moves in professional life.

Talia : Teaching to stepchildren how to dance. Every dance. In every situation. In every country.

Alfred : Unexpected strength compilation.