my friend just told me that there's a secret second dashboard that solely contains posts from people you've turned on post notifications for, and when i click the link in the messages it opens it within the tumblr app, so the tumblr app also has a secret second dashboard for post notification blogs, and the only way to access it is to open the link for it within the app.
Clock, I need you to know that I dreamt about that fic you aren't writing.
Clock, I don't dream. And on the very rare instances that I do, it's 99% disjointed nonsense that slips out of my head within 10 minutes of waking up. Literally, in my 24 years of life I've only had like 3 or 4 dreams that actually stuck.
But that fic you aren't writing has apparently sunk itself so deep into my brain that I had a once in a blue moon memorable dream about it.
It was still a bit disjointed, but I distinctly recall a dinner party? potluck? IDK, there was food; at Danny and Jason's apartment complex. Like, the while building. Some of Red Hood's crew was there. And Jason was in civvies. Dick was there too. And Danny was conspiring with everyone (not Jason) to be a mischievous little shit. So there weren't enough chairs. I'm sure you can see where this is going.
Oh my gods that is amazing. Also I'm sorry(?) for making you dream? Or you're welcome?
As a gift, to feed your poor brain... let's write a little bit of this. Hum, when would this happen for max amusement... Let's say this is after Danny has asked Hood if he wanted to share, but before the Goon scene.
-
“What the fuck,” Dick murmured to himself.
“They’re hiding chairs,” the stranger, who Dick hadn’t noticed leaning against the kitchen counter till then, explained.
Dick tilted his head in thought and took another sip of the battery acid they were calling punch at this potluck. The potency of the drink might explain what he was watching happen.
The chair on top of the tenuous stack wobbled dangerous.
One of the men— Marco? —who were trying to shove the stack of three chairs into the closet shushed the chair. He pointed at it like one would a misbehaving dog and that the threat alone would get it to stay.
Definitely the punch.
“Why?”
“Because if there aren’t enough chairs, someone is going to have to sit in someone else’s lap and they’re plotting to make that happen,” the stranger said.
Dick took a moment to glance away from the game of closet Jenga to look over the other person. They were a slight thing, but slight in the way that spoke of lean muscles and a hidden strength. It reminded Dick of how Wally was built. The bright aqua eyes were almost unnerving in how bold the color was. The way they were grinning, widely, as they continued to watch the struggle didn’t exactly make them any less unsettling.
They took a large bite out of the cookie they had in hand.
A cookie sounded like a good idea. Dick snagged one from the platter, recognizing Jason’s baking.
Cinnamon and spice bloomed across his tongue. “Huh. Okay. Does Jason know?”
The stranger laughed, shaking their head. “No, that would defeat the whole purpose. He’s the intended chair.”
“Huh.” Well that was interesting. “Who’s the intended seater. Sitter? Sittie?”
“That would be me,” the stranger said, sticking their hand not holding the cookie out. Dick set his war crime known as punch down to shake it. “Hi, I’m Danny. I’m your brother’s accidental sugar baby.”
Jason looked up from the report he was going over to see two of his people standing in the the doorway to his office. They shifted nervously and he prepared himself for bad news. While he didn’t exactly aim for a friendly demeanor (that’s what being around as Jason was for), he did attempt to make it clear his people could talk to him. If shit was going to go down then he wanted to know so that he could get on top of it.
Like now.
Fuck.
Things had been looking so good, too. The new shelter would be up and running next week. The supplemented housing for single parents and their kids was doing well— Jason had been by as, well, Jason early that day to make sure everything was on the up and up— and there had been no new shit heads trying to sell drugs on his street corners. He should have expected for it to go wrong.
He tucked the reports away and leaned back in his chair before motioning the two in. Ralph and Marco, Jason thought, placing the two as they came to sit across from him. Ralph mostly helped manage the gym and train new people not to get killed— an ex boxer and coach from when times were better. Marco had just recently risen to lieutenant.
Jason had no clue what trouble the two of them would be bringing him together. Maybe someone did something stupid and needed more training.
It seemed they didn’t know where to start either and kept trading each other uneasy looks. Jason shifted, just slightly, in the way he knew made his chair creek ominously and watched both his men start.
“So, um, us goons have been doing some reading,” Ralph finally started. Jason wasn’t much fond of the term ‘goons’ himself, but for some reason his people had embraced it.
“Reading.” Jason replied, keeping his voice carefully monotone. Where was this going?
“Right, reading,” Marco picked up. “Found some ourselves and then Yasmine called us idiots and suggested some other stuff, but well, we’ve been doing reading. And we didn’t know if you had been.”
What.
“So, we, erm, well we just thought maybe we’d pass along the important bits?” Ralph said, wringing his hat in his hands so hard Jason thought he’d tear the seems apart. “See, when ya enter into a polyamorous relationship with a new partner, it’s important to make them feel included.”
What.
“Yeah,” Marco said with an enthusiastic nod. “And we get that you and Jason already have a rhythm and everything, but Danny seems like a really sweet kid—”
“Little feral.”
“Ralph’s right, little feral, but sos you, Boss— no offense. But he seems sweet. So we don’t want to see him be hurt none just ‘cause you aren’t making room for him.”
“What.” Seriously, what?
“Yeah. Sos like, in our reading—”
Holy fucking shit. His goons did reading about polygamy for him. Because Danny had asked him to share himself. What the fucking fuck.
“—it was important that you make sure that Danny feels like he has space in your space too.”
“Yeah,” Ralph agreed and then pulled an honest to God printout from his back pocket that he smoothed out on the corner of Red Hood’s desk before sliding it over. “Small things, see? Like making sure his favorite snacks are in your apartment. Or stocking up the bath products Danny uses. Don’t just make him use what you or Jason uses.”
“He uses a 5in1 bar of soap, I’m not encouraging that behavior,” Jason growled. (Why the fuck did he say that? He only knew that as Jason.)
It made his men pause for a moment before Marco gave a little nod. “Fair enough, deserves better and all. Buy him something special to use then.”
“What’s wrong with 5in1?” Ralph asked.
“Shut up Ralph, I’ll send you some reading,” Marco replied. “Point is Boss, You have to show Danny he's just as important. We just want this to work out for you, Boss.”
“Right.”
Ralph nodded. “We see how you two look at each other is all. And how Jason looks at him. We aren’t blind, Boss.”
“Right.”
“Um, right,” Marco repeated. He stood up and slapped at Ralph’s arm till Ralph did the same. He did reach out and scoot the printouts a little closer though. “Just, we’re here for you Boss.”
Jason gave a nod of his helmet before watching them scurry out of his office.
He picked up printouts. They did research for him. His little pack of supposedly hardened criminals (fuck the fact they were more and more becoming humanitarian aid) had read up on queer relationships for him.
Shaking his head Jason set the print outs aside and tried to get back to the reports he’d been reading before whatever the fuck that just happened happened.
The third time he glanced over at the printouts he gave up, folded him up into his back pocket, and stormed out of his office. He headed for Jenny’s, the 24/7 dinner that had survived in Crime Alley for nearly 70 years through sheer determination and having good enough food and coffee that no one dared fuck with it. (Didn’t hurt that Jenny kept shotguns under the counter and was a mean shot.)
The bell clattered at his entrance as he barged in and headed to the booth in the back corner. Bright blue eyes glanced up from the pile of textbooks and notes and Danny had the nerve to smirk at him.
Jason slammed his hands down onto the table, the coffee mug rattling from the force of it. Danny calmly picked it up and cradled it to his chest.
“Want to explain to me why the fuck I just sat through two of my people trying to explain some of the finer points of polygamy to me?”
Danny choked on a sip of his coffee. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Oh Ancients, they—” Danny cut himself off with a snort that soon devolved into full on laughter. Jason gave up looming and took a seat as he waited the laughter out. Finally Danny recovered enough to ask, “Are they trying to talk you into it or out of it?”
“They think I’m already in it.”
It took effort not to stiffen as one of Danny’s feet brushed up against his calf. He was smirking in that way that Jason was coming to both love and hate— and that only seemed to come out around Red Hood. “You could be, if you’d give me an answer.”
“You asked to share Jason.”
Danny gave a little shrug. The motion caused the oversized sweater that Jason was just realizing was his to slip down Danny’s bare shoulder on the one side. “I figured you came as part of that deal.”
“What has Jason said about it?” He asked, as if he didn’t very well know.
“Nothing, I haven’t asked. I’m not a home wrecker. I’m not going to tempt a man to cheat if you’re not into the idea.”
Jason crossed his arms.
Danny watched him back from under his dark lashes.
This was insane.
“You know I won’t take off my helmet.”
What the fuck was he doing?
“Never said I need you to. I’m more creative than that, Boss.”
Fuck.
Danny's smirk widened.
---
Fiends, the lot of you. I'm still claiming I'm not writing this shut up. We're blaming the poll, alright?
The GOOOOONS. They're just trying their best to be supportive! They want everyone to be happy!
Have a bit of a fic I'm totally not writing that is 110% @mokulule's fault. If I were writing it, it would include:
Accidental (?) sugar daddy Jason
Secret Identity shenanigans
The goons researching polygamy to be supportive of their Boss' lifestyle and new partner
Danny 100% knowing Jason and Red Hood are the same person
Jason being completely oblivious to this fact
Danny being a little shit
But I'm not writing it. Really.
Edit: master post of parts I totally didn't write
-
"So," Danny started. His tone was purposefully casual in a way that made Jason pay attention.
Jason was starting to understand that when Danny was too casual, he was up to something. This seemed doubly true when Danny was talking to Red Hood. It was fascinating, really, how Danny acted more mischievous around the crime boss than his supposed boyfriend.
They were currently taking a break in their sparing session to let some of the other goons take the mat and for them to have a breather. The way Danny was stretching out his muscles to stay warmed up was really, really distracting. Jason crossed his arms to avoid reaching out and touching the sliver of skin at Danny's hip where his shirt rode up. Jason swore that shirt had not been in Danny’s closet before.
He should know, he’d been replacing most of Danny’s heinous wardrobe for weeks now as Jason and what was basically a crop top had not been on the list.
"I've heard some of your crew talking." (It was cute when Danny tried to use lingo.)
Jason tilted his head to show that he was listening. It was the downside of the Red Hood helmet that it often seemed he wasn’t paying attention, so he had long since incorporated a few exaggerate head movements to telegraph his intent. It was nice, though, that at the moment hid his blatant staring.
Danny tilted his head back. "And the word from them is that Jason is yours."
Jason froze, mind scrambling about where this could be going.
Nothing could have prepared him with predatory smirk that Danny looked up at him with. Or the other's next words. "So what are your thoughts on sharing?"
Years ago back when I worked in cubicle land, we were hiring junior software developers. They didn’t have to have a ton of experience, just a willingness to learn, and some demonstration of their software skills. Like: show me a program you wrote (any language) or a web site you designed. Anything.
And there was this one guy I talked with who seemed super sharp, but had virtually zero experience writing software. When it came time to do the show-n-tell part of the interview he whips out his laptop, brings up a website, and spins it around to show me what he made.
A website of tiny ceramic frogs.
Not for sale. Just… all these ceramic frogs, organized into categories. Frogs on bicycles, frogs with hats, frogs sitting on lily pads. It was a virtual museum of ceramic frogs in web form.
I scrolled through his online collection of frogs, slightly baffled.
“This is your website?” I asked finally.
“Yep!”
“You coded this yourself?” I popped into view-source mode and poked around some incredibly well-formatted, well-commented html. I nodded slowly. This guy was meticulous.
“Yep!”
“So… where’d all the frogs come from?”
“I made those too,” he says, beaming.
And while I’m processing this he rummages in his bag and pulls out a little ceramic frog working at a computer terminal. He places it on the table before us, next to the laptop.
“And THIS one,” he says, “I made for you! As a thank you for the interview.”
It was adorable. I hired him on the spot. I mean, why not? Worst case he’d wash out in 90 days and we’d hire somebody else. He turned out to be one of the best developers on our team.
And yes, his cubicle was loaded with ceramic frogs.
other superheros get training from their mentors, from the super secret society, from alien tech,from the monks or they have some kind of military background.
phantom, on the other hand, got training from the firefighters in his town after he crashed on their cases one too many times and they decided that "yup, if your gonna try to help, might aswell give you some training so you could be useful.", he got training from the paramedics because they were worried he wouldn't know how to help an injured human, he got training from his local town detective who smokes too much and gives him cookies when he can help with his Ghost senses and figure out if this was a human crime or a ghost crime.
you know when you get Autism Mad. like something happens in a non-ideal way and in your brain you know it literally doesnt matter but in your other more autistic brain youre like screaming & scrying & shitting the bed etc. i think you should be able to go into settings and opt out of that. i have better things to get upset about than failing to put up a decoration on the optimal day or being too stubborn to solve a problem via simple communication
i do love the concept of Damian being a really sheltered cult-baby that was only let out to train while he was in the League of Assassins, but i also have to say that the complete opposite is very good too, specifically if it's because Jason and him got attached to each other and so Talia couldn't separate them whenever Jason went off on missions/trips. i think it would be funny if Damian has literally been fucking everywhere, and Bruce and the others don't realise how diverse his childhood was until they ask to see baby photos and Damian returns a day later with a legitimate van's worth of boxes filled with an insane amount of photos, because Jason took photos everywhere Damian went and made sure to keep every single one.
i want it to be like fucking. Forrest Gump levels of insane connections. there's an old news report about some kind of incident like an attempted attack during a winter Olympics game held in Beijing years ago, and Damian will casually walk by like 'oh yes, i remember that game. Todd made me take a photo holding the torch after he stopped the attackers.' and then everybody has to just stare while he walks off. he's spotted briefly in the background of a nature documentary when a specialist visits a tribe in the amazon rainforest, and Tim watching it genuinely thinks he's seeing things until he shows Damian and the kid casually goes 'yeah Todd trained with the leader of their tribe, so we were there for about nine weeks. i have a box of old polaroid's taken during the stay if you wish to see them?'. Tim is losing his mind. Bruce finds an old photo of toddler-Damian in the Fortress of Solitude playing with Krypto and he's about to go into cardiac arrest about Clark lying to him until Damian tells him 'yes, Jason worked alongside Kara as the Red Hood on multiple occasions, and she always had us meet her in the Fortress of Solitude when Superman was out.'
essentially, i think Jason should have been here there and fucking everywhere while working under the League of Assassins, and i want Damian to have crazy baby photos because of it. i know he's like, 14 at most, but i still want to give him insane dad-lore.
danny leaning into pretending to be Anything But A Ghost with the bats, but he goes with a different story for each bat/person and none of them put together that the potential fae at damian’s school, the hot vampire twink that jason has been flirting with, the Meta coffee shop employee Tim sees at his favorite shop, the alien kid that showed up in Metropolis, the possible demon that has been following the bats, the strange mer like being spotted in the harbor, he knows he's too uncanny to pass for human so he'll just play into *any* misconceptions, so long as they think he's anything but a ghost they would have no reason to think he was actually a ghost!
its 2026 i cannot handle any more fucking "author A obviously ripped off author B" discourse by people Who Have Only Seen the work of author B and admit themselves that they have no further knowledge of the literary landscape they are moving in. like.
Watching TikTok try and rewrite fandom history by saying fandom culture was created by teenage girls makes me eye twitch to an extent I’ve never felt it twitch before. The middle aged women printing out Spirk erotica to share with each other in the 1900s did not die for this!!!! How dare you erase our important historic moments!!! You would be nowhere without the 30 year old women who dedicated their free time to making these spaces happen. Put some respect on their names!!!!
