#Chaos brain

[cyber-geist]

Briefly lost my mind, drew this while feeling inspired. This is fanart for the fic 'Of Teeth and Tails' by LetsTellStories on ao3. So have a merman Legend, Fairy Hyrule, and Minish Four all having a bad time as a treat. Link to the fic below:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48714094/chapters/122883778

[rachymarie]

Autistic masking puts the Mental in Detrimental to our health, amirite?

Geddit, bc I go a bit Mental after masking burnout.

(this is an actually schizospec autistic post, a reclaimed slurring)

[muteddreamssilentscreams]

are you a theo or a kit?? answer me quickly!

[erinfulmerwrites]

Interrupting my normally scheduled nonsense to mention that uh I guess I have a book coming out in nine days or something?!

Half-demon advocate Lily Knight returns in book 3 of the Cambion series. Featuring a full scale bi disaster, healing from trauma, selkies in San Francisco Bay, being gay and doing crimes, only one bed (YES I went there), trips to the Otherworld, terrible men getting their just desserts, and a poly HEA.

Readers have called it “impressive” and my “most spicy yet.” (That would be the piano bench scene…)

You can preorder it now, will reblog with link because Tumblr is Tumblr 🤷🏻‍♀️

[serenityscribes]

This is accurate. No notes. Only tears.

[kingarthur1143]

The volume of my voice ranges from very quiet to extremely loud with nothing in between

[windyengel]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Every bat has a cat.

There’s an old phrase in Gotham: every Bat has a Cat.

Like most things whispered through Gotham’s smog, it’s only mostly untrue. Technically, the only Bat who ever really had a Cat was Batman himself—and even that’s been more of a tug-of-war than a love story. Not for lack of effort on Catwoman’s part. She’s tried everything: seduction, threats, borderline kidnapping. At one point, she swore she’d adopt all of Batman’s kids just to spite him. She’s teamed up with the Birds of Prey—where a few of the Bat-daughters moonlight—and once even tried to snatch up Little Timothy Drake back when he was still Robin, dangling the offer of being her “pet stray.” It didn’t take. Timmy was too invested in feathered spandex and daddy issues.

And then there was that… incident with Nightwing. But Gotham doesn’t talk about that. Gotham forgets. Gotham represses.

Still, the saying stuck around, mostly as a joke. A rite of passage, the locals would wink: “Once the birds become Bats, they’ll find their Cat.” Like puberty, but with more rooftop flirting and potential felony charges.

It was all fun and folklore—until it wasn’t.

No one really knows when the joke stopped being a joke. When the line between myth and prophecy started to blur. All anyone can remember is the night it finally got everyone’s attention.

It happened at the grand reopening of the Gotham Museum, debuting a new exhibit on Ancient Sumerian artifacts. Bruce Wayne showed up with two-thirds of his grim duckling trio—Tim and Damian in tuxedos, sulking appropriately (Jason, the other brooding duckling has refused to come, and everyone knew Duke and Dick to be too much of sunshine boys to be part of the brooding bunch). The opening night was invitation-only, with patrons shuffled between exhibits like a very wealthy cattle drive: first Sumerian, then Medieval, then an optional wine bar where the Chardonnay was too warm.

It was during one of these exhibit rotations that Tim saw it. A flicker. A whisper of motion at the corner of his eye. Something feline, something familiar, slipping back into the shadows of the Sumerian wing.

He didn’t hesitate. He turned to Bruce and Damian, voice clipped and sharp.

“Catwoman’s here.”

As soon as Tim muttered the alert, the Bat Family trio slipped into action with the kind of silent efficiency that only years of crimefighting, trauma bonding, and tactical group chats could provide.

Bruce gave a curt nod. “We’re changing. Now.”

It took them less than five minutes to disappear from the gala and reappear as the Bat, Red Robin, and the Robin—silent shadows in kevlar and purpose. They moved through back corridors, slipping past distracted security and tipsy patrons, until they reached the Sumerian exhibit once more.

Only this time, the lights were off.

Tim frowned behind his mask. “That's not ominous at all.”

“Should we announce ourselves?” Damian asked, already reaching for his sword.

“No,” Bruce answered curtly, gesturing for silence.

That’s when the voices drifted through the shadows. Muffled, conversational, and—oddly—playful.

“I dunno, Kitty,” a teen male voice said, exasperated but not particularly hurried. “Mama said not to overindulge, and we already got most of the artifacts we wanted.”

Tim blinked. Mama? Oh great. A new Cat-themed villain with actual parental boundaries.

“Sure,” replied a teen girl, voice bright with amusement. “But look at this diamond, Stray. Tell me it’s not gorgeous. Wouldn’t it look perfect in our collection?”

There was a dramatic sigh, the kind of sigh that implied someone had already lost this argument many times before.

“Mmhhmm... you know what? Fine. What’s one more diamond in the bag?”

That was their cue. The trio advanced, silent as breath, until they reached the edge of the display hall and got their first clear look at the culprits.

It… wasn’t Catwoman.

It was a girl, sure—dressed in what looked like a Catwoman suit, but styled after a tuxedo cat, complete with white accents at her gloves, boots and torso. Her partner, taller and broader, wore a sleeker suit—blacker than night and painted to his skin, save for white hands and feet—and had a calm posture that said yes, I do this a lot and no, I’m not impressed by any of you. Both wore green-tinted goggles that glowed faintly in the dark, and both had visible tufts of snow-white hair peeking from their hoods.

Tim stared. “Okay, so… not Catwoman.”

“No,” Bruce confirmed, grim.

Damian narrowed his eyes. “They are amateurs.”

“Amateurs who just stole a priceless diamond,” Tim muttered. “And called it ‘pretty.’”

Bruce’s jaw tightened. “We move. Now.”

Batman dropped down in front of the display case like thunder in a cape, his shadow stretching long and ominous over the marble floor.

Red Robin and Robin flanked him a beat later, dramatic and ready—Tim in full tactical mode, Damian practically vibrating with the urge to stab something.

“Step away from the artifacts,” Batman growled.

The two teens froze mid-theft. The girl blinked behind her green goggles. The boy raised an unimpressed brow that none of them could see but everyone could feel.

“Oh no,” the girl deadpanned, dramatically clutching the diamond to her chest. “It’s the law.”

“Panic,” the boy muttered with a lazy smirk.

“You’re trespassing on federal property,” Batman continued, all gravel and menace. “Surrender. Now.”

“Hmm,” the girl—Kitty—tilted her head. “No thanks.”

“Yeah,” the boy—Stray, apparently—shrugged. “We’re kind of indoor ferals. Surrendering isn’t in the skill set.”

Tim lunged first. He was fast, calculated, and nearly caught her.

Nearly.

Kitty somersaulted backward over a Sumerian statue with all the grace of an Olympic gymnast raised by a jungle cat. She landed en pointe on the exhibit railing, wiggled her fingers in a “ta-ta” motion, and vanished into the shadows like smoke.

Damian growled and went after Stray. “I will neuter you.”

“Big words, Bird Boy,” Stray laughed, ducking and weaving as Damian’s staff sliced through empty air. “But you gotta catch me first.”

Batman threw a batarang—clean, perfect arc, museum-quality aim.

It bounced off the floor as Stray backflipped over it, landing in a low crouch. “Mama warned us about this. Rule number one: Don’t play fetch with the Bat, you aren't a dog, you are a cat and cats has stabdards.”

“Not that she has anything to talk about” answer Kitty, sitting over a display. “She is the first one who plays cat and mouse with him”

Tim leapt from above, a textbook ambush.

Kitty twisted in midair, caught his cape mid-descent, and used it to swing him into a wall.

“Ow,” Tim muttered from the floor, sprawled in an undignified tangle of limbs and regrets. “That’s—okay. That’s fair.”

“Gotta admit,” Kitty said, lightly jogging backward while juggling the diamond between her hands, “you guys are way more coordinated than the usual mall cops.”

“But you still can’t catch us,” Stray added cheerfully, cartwheeling away from Damian’s latest sword swipe and Batman batarang. “Seriously, has anyone ever told you three you try really hard?”

“They’re cute,” Kitty said with mock affection. “Like, ‘aw, they think they’re scary’ cute. Specially the little one, you think I can add him to my display? I always wanted a bird”

“I call dibs on the one who smells like coffee!!”

Batman’s eyes narrowed. “Who trained you?”

They shared a glance. Then, in perfect unison:

“Mama did.”

Robin skidded to a stop, scowling. “You mean Catwoman.”

Stay grinned, sharp and smug. “We call her Mama. You probably call her when you're lonely.”

“Ooooh,” Kitty winced. “He’s gonna stab you for that.”

“Let him try.”

Another dive. Another swipe. Another miss.

They danced around the trio like mischievous spirits in catsuits, leaping, tumbling, and disappearing behind columns and curtains, always just out of reach.

By the time security finally wandered in—late, confused, and holding tiny flashlights—the Sumerian wing looked like someone had hosted a parkour-themed wedding in it.

The only thing left of the mysterious teens?

A single calling card, perched atop the display case like a signature.

It was shaped like a white paw print.

Tim picked it up and read aloud, “From Mama’s kittens, with love.”

Damian scowled. “I hate cat rogues.”

Batman just stared at the shadows, his voice low. “She trained them.”

“Yeah,” Tim muttered, rubbing his sore shoulder. “And apparently, she trained them too well.”

[flwrkid14]

Famous streamer Danny and his secret boyfriend:

Okay, but picture this: Danny Fenton is this massive streamer—like, he’s the guy everyone watches for chill vibes, chaotic gaming, and somehow getting sidetracked talking about conspiracy theories in the middle of a speedrun. His streams are a mess of ghost jokes, random facts about space, and way too much energy for someone running on three hours of sleep and coffee.

And then there’s his boyfriend—who the fans only know exists because Danny’s way too in love to not talk about him. Like, every stream, without fail, Danny’s casually dropping hints. “Oh yeah, my boyfriend brought me coffee, isn’t he the best?” or “I was playing this game with him last night, and he kept getting us killed, but he’s cute so I let it slide.”

The thing is, no one has ever seen this boyfriend. Not once. No name, no face, nothing. And at this point, it’s basically part of Danny’s brand. His fans are in the chat, spamming questions like, “Who is he?” “Is he another streamer?” “What’s his name?” and Danny’s just laughing it off every time, like, “Eh, maybe I’ll introduce you guys one day.”

The fan theories are wild. People have made entire reddit threads trying to piece together clues about who this mystery guy is. Some think Danny’s boyfriend is a celebrity. Others are convinced it’s someone famous in the gaming world, but no one has any proof. It’s like the internet’s biggest mystery, and Danny’s just sitting there, fully aware of it, leaning into the chaos without giving away a single detail.

Meanwhile, Tim Drake—yes, that Tim Drake, Gotham’s resident CEO of WE and vigilante—is just chilling in the background. He’s the boyfriend, obviously. The one who makes sure Danny actually eats between streams and sometimes joins him off-camera to play co-op games. But Tim’s got no intention of revealing himself. He likes the anonymity, the whole “mysterious boyfriend” thing. Plus, with his whole double life as a vigilante, staying out of the public eye (more than he already is) isn’t exactly a bad idea.

But the best part—Danny’s fans? They’re convinced his boyfriend is some kind of superhero or vigilante. The way Danny talks about him—like he’s always busy, never around during certain hours (because, you know, Tim’s out patrolling Gotham), and the fact that he’s never once shown up on camera? It’s practically begging for wild speculation. And Danny? He’s just letting them run with it, saying stuff like, “Oh yeah, he’s totally saving the world right now, can’t make it to stream today.”

So now Danny’s got this massive online following, all obsessed with his mystery boyfriend, while Tim’s just quietly in the background, living his double life and probably smirking every time Danny plays along with the fans’ theories. It’s lowkey hilarious, and neither of them is ever planning to set the record straight. They’re just having way too much fun with it.

[oakedredwine]

Usually, when I wake up, for the first few seconds, there's foggy mental confusion, no internal monologe, just vibes. I sorta just realized that my first internal thought were... not typical. So, now I'm keeping a collection.

[transzsonix]

recent ibis stuff

[lingrimmart]

doppelbebes

[thebubblesareevil]

Harley Quinn is Danny’s therapist

Danny needs therapy… desperately.

Jazz know this and acknowledges that it’s not a good idea for her to fill that role, so she goes out in search for the next best thing.

While in Gotham for college Jazz breaks into harley and ivys hideout and waits for them to return.

She waters the plants, she does the dishes and she even cooks some dinner setting the table just as they arrive.

The smells coming from the table prevent the immediate attack.

Jazz introduces herself and offers Harley the opportunity of a lifetime

“How would you like to be the personal therapist to a dead superhero?”

Of course jazz is more than willing to pay Harley (Danny gave her some Aztec gold for spending money while at school) but harley refuses to commit until she meets the kid

The 2 join jazz when she goes home for break, introducing them as some upperclassmen

(Her parents don’t really question it. Not bad parents just super accepting, they don’t know about Danny yet, though Danny stopped hiding it awhile ago)

Jazz brings them up to Danny’s room and knocks on the door

“Hey little brother, got a minute?”

A garbled yes comes from the other side and she opens the door to reveal half the room is missing and in its place is a gaping hole in reality where a large woman was cooking

“What’s up? New friends?” he asked looking down from where he was floating mid air reading a book about stars

“What’s with the portal?”

Danny just shrugged “lunch lady’s making spaghetti, want some?”

“Hell yeah!” Harley piped in. “Honey, I think we’re gonna get along swell”

Ivy just sighed.

The two move to amity so harley can have easy access to her favorite patient and Ivy ends up getting her own green house and somehow a job on the city council to reduce pollution and to push green areas in town

Do with this what you will

[prlssprfctn]

The first time, Tim notices someone observing them from afar, it is when they are all settled for a brief dinner together. It is the middle of the week, and Bruce gathered all of them together to... relax. Which is strange but not unwelcome. Everyone is so involved in chattering and bantering that they don't notice a lingering gaze through the window; they don't, but Tim does.

It takes him a few seconds to figure out that it is Jason.

He is not sure if Bruce reached for him to invite, and Jason just declined, or there was no offer to begin with, but Tim knows for sure Jason lurkes behind windows for a few minutes before disappearing in the night.

And the funniest thing? Tim understands him.

He thinks he is not Jason's replacement — never truly was, despite what the other thought — but in a way, they did swap their places. Because in the past, it was Tim, who hid on the rooftops, staring at Bruce and his family, listening to the snippets of their conversations. And now it is Jason.

It is still different, of course. Tim had a choice, and it was his... enthusiastic project, if anything — Jason doesn't really. But if anyone understands the feeling of standing far away from everyone, it is still Tim.

That's why the next time in happens, Tim reaches out.

It is after the particularly easy mission, when Tim spots the red motion on the rooftop. He slips away from Nightwing and Robin, who debate about something with Batman through the comms, and finds himself standing behind Red Hood.

The way Red Hood taps his fingertips on the balustrade makes Tim remember that he is not included in their comms anymore. He wonders how lonely it is, to hear the voices of his brothers, but never being able to grasp the whole conversation they have.

'Hood,' he calls for him.

To Jason's credit, he doesn't scramble in panic, even if it seems that he is surprised by his appearance.

'Red,' he mutters back, instantly defensive. 'What, came to mock me?'

Tim rolls his eyes; he wishes things would be easier with Jason, but they are not, and he can't really blame him for that.

'Had I ever mocked you?' He copies his stance, arms folding in the chest. When Jason tilts his head, almost asking, "Really now?" Tim rolls his eyes again. 'Okay, I did a few times. But it mostly were jokes about your death.'

Jason chuckles.

'Good one, punk. It changes everything.'

'You like jokes about your death,' Tim protests. 'And I know you allow Arsenal to joke about it, so it is not entirely closed topic.'

'I don't remember allowing you to joke about it, though.'

...

This conversation is so fucking stupid. Tim didn't even came here for this, but-

But fine. He still can win.

'So, you only allow it to your friends. Fine. Let's be friends,' Jason chokes on his own exhausted sigh. 'Do you need some friendship questionnaires to fill to be my friend? I can arrange that.'

Jason kindly flips him off under his breath before disappearing in the night, leaving him alone with whining Nightwing and irritated Bruce in his ear.

The next time he stalks down Jason, who in turn is stalking Damian and Bruce, he shoves in his hand twenty three papers filled with bunch of friendship questions — half stripped from internet, half made by Tim that involve the specifics of their jobs.

He doesn't expect anything to come after it, but in two weeks after Jason returns to the city after his mission with Outlaws, Tim finds these papers filled with surprisingly neat, calligraphic answers.

And he gets the printed copy of the same questions, with one page of an additional one, written in the same handwriting, and with a little sticky note atop of it.

Your turn, Timbo.

Tim smirks.

Oh, he will so drag Jason back in the family, somehow.

[muteddreamssilentscreams]

Is FLETCHER ever not going to rip my heart out?

[edgyhedgie]

go forth my sonadow into the world

[rann-poisoncage]