'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'` Dick Grayson 💙🔄❤️ Jason Todd '`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'` '`'`'`'`'` inbox open for JD/DJ/Switch prompts!! '`'`'`'`'` L.° he/him ° Fanfic writer ° Banner by jjmk-jjmk ° 🔞⚠️NSFW/M⚠️🔞
Are you interested in shaping the future of Jaydick Week? Now's your chance!
You may have noticed we've been less active on the event front---Mod Mori is very busy and Jaydick Week has had to take a backseat to real-life events and responsibilities. So we’re opening applications for one to two mods for future events! The primary goals of this role will be:
Making posts and graphics for future events and sharing them in a timely manner
Answering asks related to Jaydick Week and the Jaydick Discord Server
Keeping the blog updated on the backend (site design)
Sharing all Jaydick Week submissions and tagging them appropriately
Sharing posts for related and/or similar DC events/projects
General promotion and cheerleading of all things Jaydick
Interested in applying? The details and application can be found below the cut! ⬇️ ⬇️ ⬇️
✅ Basic Requirements:
Must be at least 18 years old
Must possess Tumblr and Discord accounts
Must be comfortable interacting with both Jaydick/Dickjay content
Must be comfortable with dark/dead dove content
Must have experience with Tumblr, Twitter/X, Bsky, and Google Suite
✅ ✅ Preferred Requirements:
Experience moderating fan events/zines
Experience with publicity/hype-building
Familiarity with the Jaydick/Dickjay canon and fandom
Strong graphic design skills
Strong interpersonal communication and writing skills
Thick skin (we don't get much hate, but it's helpful for when we do!)
❤️💙 Interested? Apply here! 💙❤️
This application will remain open until May 26, 2026. For questions or concerns, please email [email protected].
It's the fourth morning in a row that he's woken up, half hard and sweating. His top sheet clings to his abdomen, soaked through. It's gross, and he wipes a hand over his face, smoothing over the scowl forming there.
Exhaustion has dulled the hinges on the vault in his mind that keeps Those Thoughts at bay, and out they float — a gloved hand holding out a piece of evidence for his second opinion, a hard shoulder shoved between his shoulder blades to keep him from getting flattened by a falling I bar, calloused hands tracing his ribcage searching for fractures.
Ocean deep eyes frowning up at him as he recoils.
Jason sucks in a shuddering breath. Blood rushes further south, engorging him more so that the tip of his cock nudges against the seam of his briefs. His skin warms at the contact. It's not enough. It's never enough — not when Jason takes himself in hand, not when he sticks his own fingers in his mouth, not when he's spilling onto hand towel he set down, not when a hand webbed with nearly invisible scars reaches for his face and pulls back —
He groans as the last of his orgasm rolls through him. Climax staves the sharpest edges of the hunger but does little for the ache in his bones. It had almost surfaced under Nightwing's ministrations earlier. He'd been panting by the end of the field triage and Dick had worried (because who the fuck wouldn't) and reached for him, and...and Jason flinched. So back the hand went, dangling from Dick's bent knee like it had always been there. A breath, then two, and Dick was back in Nightwing mode, domino reaffixed, standing, and not a hair out of place.
Jason nearly bit his tongue.
Dick's fault. Always his fault. Jason sighs and wipes his hand on the towel. His cock twitches again as the memory fades, as the ghost of an almost-touch recedes.
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