hello i just wanted to tell you that dick grayson's torrid affair with nightwing (not clickbate) is one of The™️ jaydick fics of all time to me, and i re read it every six months at least. i absolutely adore it.
just wanted to shoot you a message to say thanks for writing it, as well as the side-quel, they make me smile so wide every time i read them 🧡
Oh my god thank you 🤩
It’s always really funny for me to look back over those early dc fics I was writing because they’re very very much informed by the video game Gotham Knights that I’ve played a really normal number of times, and I think they’re a really solid depiction of that variety of their characterisation but are a little, hm, off? Compared to the comics.
That said, I did have a ton of fun writing them and I’m so so glad to hear you liked it/them so much!
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there is no limit to the things that I would do to see you try your hand at prompt 1 for the ot3 prompts thing
Damnit duke i thought I was being smart by dodging this prompt (ಢ⊱ಢ ｡)
1. A is literally in love with B and C’s relationship and loves hanging out with them, but doesn’t realise they actually want A to join in and try to woo them
—
Booker will blame it on his preternatural ability to burn if out in the sun for more than two seconds. It doesn’t matter how many layers of sunscreen he has on, he will end any day on the beach look like a boiled lobster and feeling like he has taken a roll on a bed made of sandpaper.
It will definitely and categorically have nothing to do with the fact that if he stays in the shade, he won’t be able to see Joe and Nicky out in the sea, wet bodies glistening in the sun, looking all shades of Daniel Craig in their Speedos coming out of the water like the Birth of Venus.
He crosses and uncrosses his legs, finishing off the remainder of his coconut to distract from furthering that image in his mind.
It certainly helps that this time round, they’ve chosen Thailand for their brief reprieve. Booker is sure that Andy, Joe and Nicky would have remembered Ko Samui when it had little to no connection to the mainland. He wonders what that is like; to see every corner of the world change, to remember and know things that no living persons could ever hope to know.
He should ask Andy when they meet up again. As it were, Andy had taken Quynh and Nile and declared she wanted to climb Mount Rainier instead of lounging on a beach. No one had made any comments about how it was probably for the best that Quynh isn’t near any body of waters for the foreseeable future.
Ko Samui, thronging with international tourists in its high season, is crowded enough that three men travelling together attracts nothing more than the entrepreneurial hawker selling their wares. In the four days since they’ve been here, Booker has bought enough souvenirs to fill another drawer in his flat in Paris.
Which is where he will be heading to next because Joe and Nicky have booked their tickets to Malta.
Booker is aware enough to say no when they asked him to come along with them. He knows enough by now that Malta was for the lovers and he has no place there with them. If he had truly seen the undisguised thread of disappointment in Joe’s eyes and the quiet way Nicky seems to deflate at him telling them that no, thanks I would rather go back to the cold and wet of Paris and be alone, when he really wants to say, yes, that was just a figment of his imagination of course.
He loves them enough to know that this is something that can never see the light of day, that will never live and breathe and be nurtured into something beautiful. Oh, Booker knows there is no one that could ever come between them or even stand a chance of holding any semblance of the importance that they are to each other. He’s seen better men and women than he try and are left heartbroken by the end. There is no room for anyone else, there never has been, never will. He pities the poor soul who even wants to try.
And so, he contents himself with basking in the light of their love. Taking whatever shade of love they are willing to give to him. Booker is brother, friend, companion. He is their confidante and he is a protector to this love. At the same time, he is weak. He can admit that in the happiness and awe, jealousy and loneliness sits like a constant friend thrumming in the shadows of his sunniest days.
He wants what they have. He has had what they have. It’s as simple and as complicated as that.
“Booker?”
The cool hand on his knee jerks back when he comes back to himself with an inelegant snort. Nicky’s face is too close for comfort and like this, Booker can count the way sea and sand clings on to his skin and lashes. For an irrational moment, he wonders if he kissed him now, would he taste of brine or the sun?
“Did you need something?” He somehow manages, hand darting out to hold Nicky by the elbow, feeling an electric pulse sing its way up his spine at the smile he receives at the touch. Somehow, impossibly so, Nicky seems to be watching him. Seeing him.
A gentle touch to his nape has him snapping out of that trance.
The palm of Joe’s hand is sword calloused and worn by the love of his art. The dedication he pours into his crafts are mapped on his fingers and it is a map Booker thinks he can read even half-blind and half-mad.
“Booker,” Joe says but does not continue, brown eyes darting to the side and he is brought back fully into the moment and realisation that they aren’t alone. Not on this island, not ever, and he has nearly slipped up on what he taught himself not to show.
He pulls back. If he had expected Nicky to let him go, the tightening of the hand on his arm is indecent for an afternoon like this with too many eyes on them.
“Maybe we’ve not been making it clear,” Joe whispers, leaning in to press the edge of his smile to the corner of Booker’s jaw. “Maybe we should show you instead, hm? That thing we need.”
Booker thinks he may have been madder than he thought he was before, but Joe’s eyes are unfailingly kind and patient, and Nicky’s are blue like the summer currents and they pull him in.
“Come,” They say.
And he goes with them, because there could have been no other way for this to unfold.
maddi!!! i would like to ask re: the "fic writing is writing THAT scene and then stuff to put around it" which scene(s) were 'THAT scene' for 'cigarette while it's lit' and the vampire!nicky/joe verse (and maybe also the vampire!nicky human!joe fic if you're feeling generous? 😝)
oh! oh yes! ok!!!!! lets go
bandAU: thinking back, i think The Scene was the first night ie: Nicky seeing Joe onstage -> first meeting/first impressions -> hooking up at the club. tbh it was never really gonna be much more than that, but then more Scenes on the subject of fame and privacy and the trials of dating someone sort of famous started piling one. and now, of course, it's got chapters and here we are! (i was hot off the press with my maneskin addiction at this time, ok, i cannot be blamed) (truly, it was birthed because i saw damiano david with bare legs in platform docs and thought: hm yes, joecore)
phantom hands: gah it's so hard to recall where it started, but it was definitely the song that lead to the club scene unfolding in my head. instant attraction, nicky's eyes across the dancefloor. it actually didn't turn into both of them as vampires until i knew i wanted Joe to know, immediately, what Nicky was. just to have this innate sense of dangerous kinship. also i had to facilitate mutual blood drinking in the pool, so
all on my tongue: ahh, yes. love this guy. The Scene was most definitely their first time at the clinic. Idk, something about such structured worldbuilding is like catnip to me - the clinic, the procedures, how nicky knows exactly how it all goes down. and joe being nervous a lil. i may have just gotten a tattoo at this point? perhaps that's where it all started, me chillin on the tattoo bed and being like, hm, how can my blorbos interact like this
