#Stool Pigeon

[loveboatinsanity]

o

[crysaiph]

Hehe COG ocs of mine

[drmonkeysetroscans]

Snitch.

[tabletopbellhop]

I just shared my First Thoughts on Stool Pigeon from Barrel Aged Games on our Patreon.

[weirdmarioenemies]

When you think of enemies from Super Mario Bros. 2, who comes to mind? Personally, one of the first that comes to MY mind are those weird birds that you find as early as World 1. The borderline flightless ones that were colored red, white and black in the original, but weirdly got some purple coloring in the All-Stars remake — the ones who weirdly barely appeared again. You know,

Name: Pidgit

Debut: Super Mario Bros. 2/ Yume Kōjō: Doki Doki Panic

Did I actually trick anyone into thinking today’s enemy would be sweet old Tweeter? I don’t know if Tweeter is well-known enough to get that kind of anticipation!

Regardless, Pidgit’s a weird enemy, to be certain! Of course, one could say almost all Super Mario Bros. 2 enemies are weird, but “flightless crow riding on a carpet” is a bit more weird than enemies like “walking bomb”, “walking cactus”, and “bird that drops walking bomb”.

And that’s right: despite its name, Pidgit is a crow, which is not a pigeon at all! It is actually more wrong to name Pidgit after a pigeon than it is to name a gorilla enemy with some sort of hare-related pun in mind. And that’s science!

However, even its original Japanese name is just a portmanteau of “dodo” and “Rodrigues solitaire”, both of which are pigeons…this is Pidgit’s Trick.

This guy’s an oddball, one that didn’t debut in a Mario game and has had very few reappearances since, but has left an inescapable impact since. Before that, though, let’s cherish the reappearances it HAS had!

Pidgit’s first reappearance is a weird one—instead of riding a magic carpet, it finds itself being blasted out of Turtle Cannons in Fall as the Pidgit Bill! Super Mario World sure seems pretty fond of Super Mario Bros. 2, and this might be one of its most blatant callbacks. Funnily enough, in the SNES version only horizontally-moving Bullet Bills get replaced, which seems fine until you realize Super Mario World also introduces vertically- and diagonally-inclined Bullet Bills. Woopsie!

Pidgit Bills appear in the ending of Super Princess Peach, too, congratulating the player! That’s cute.

Pidgit’s next appearance would be another weird one. Wario’s Woods has it be one of Wario’s goons, replacing the fairy when Wario appears on the upper right screen to drop only bombs. Remember when Wario was a villain who could have minions? Yeah. Pidgit can fly here without a carpet at all, no foolin’! Is this part of the spell Wario put over his Woods? Is this why Pidgits fight for him? I don’t know! I think they just forgot.

They wouldn’t reappear until Partners in Time, and wow! This might actually be their only in-game reappearance where they actually ride their carpets! Which reminds me, do Pidgits make their own carpets, or do they get them from somewhere, or…?

I’ve never had nor played this game so I don’t know exactly how they act, but what I do know is that in the American version, they’re stronger and more likely to drop loot than any other version! That’s fun.

Do you remember 12 paragraphs ago, when you still had your youth and I said we’d get back to how Pidgit left an inescapable impact on the franchise? Well, that time is now, and that inescapable impact is the Lakitu!

“But Weirdma Rio Enemies dot Tumblr dot Com!,” you cry. “Lakitu debuted in Super Mario Bros., before Doki Doki Panic and thus long before Super Mario Bros. 2 was even conceived!” And on that, you’re right. But let’s look at an attribute unique to Pidgit!

You see, Pidgit rides a magic carpet, yes, but when it’s picked up, the player can ride the carpet themselves temporarily — after a certain amount of time, though, the carpet starts flashing before disappearing completely. Sound familiar?

Sounds a lot like Lakitu’s Cloud, if you ask me! While Lakitus have been riding their fair-weather friends since 1985, we weren’t privy to that same experience till long after Super Mario Bros. 2, in a little game called…Super Mario World! In a game which already has Pidgit, is it truly at all absurd to say it would have just one more reference to it?

So remember, in every game where you can ride a truculent terrapin’s silly cirrus, be sure to thank your local Pidgit!

…man, too bad we couldn’t segue into at least something about Tweeter, huh? First they were bought out by a rich muskrat, now this. Is there anything Tweeterheads get to look forward to?

the answer is ME!!!!!!

Hi!! I’m Mod Tweeter, and today’s post was written by none other than moi! It’s a real tweat and an honour to join the cast of Oddball Red-Cloaked-Daisy Critters, and I hope you will all enjoy my writings about more sillybeasts in the future!

For now, let’s close this post with a smooth songbird’s swingin’ serenade…

[sapitties]

george noticing how often dream rests his chin on sapnaps head cause of the height difference and how sapnap tends to relax within his arms whenever he does it and he decides he wants to give sapnap the same treatment but the most he can do even when he's taller is press his lips to sapnaps hair so he decides to trap sapnap one stair below him and hugs him tightly, resting his chin on his hair and the second he feels sapnap relax he feels content and makes the impulsive decision to buy a small stool to keep in his room so he can continue doing it anywhere he can

[anintelligentoctopus]

The trouble with cop noirs is that if the cop himself is not very fucked up that means it's a Crusading Cop Noir and you need something more to make it interesting. Sometimes that's Dan Duryea.

Trouble is when the runtime is only and hour and a quarter that doesn't really give you enough time to add a bit more meat. A bit more grime. Or expand on what could have made for a very fun and insane dynamic between Dan Duryea and Howard Duff. But a boy can dream

[phormlessblob]

new york times.... your days are numbered

[theangeleye]

Listening to heartburns rn ❤️ everyone go listen to Anna is a stool pigeon right neow and then follow it with amputations

[sleepberries]

lapdance dance of suffering | a spideyhood ficlet

happy april fools y'all!! meanwhile, here's a silly spideyhood fluff set 17 months after redflags

Dick Grayson was going to need industrial-strength brain bleach. Maybe even a lobotomy.

It had started as a normal night out—well, as normal as any night could be when you were the designated third wheel to Gotham's most insufferable couple. Jason and Peter (who had officially weaseled his way into the family over a year ago, thanks to a lethal combination of charm, audacity, and Jason's questionable taste in men) had decided that a dive bar on the edge of the city was the perfect place for date night. Dick had somehow been roped into joining them, because apparently, his life wasn't painful enough already.

"I'm only coming for one drink," Dick had warned when Jason first extended the invitation with that knowing smirk of his. "One. Then I'm out."

Four hours later, Dick was still there, questioning every life choice that had led to this moment.

The bar was dimly lit, the kind of place where the stools wobbled and the drinks were strong enough to make Batman reconsider his no-kill rule. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and regret. Dick nursed his beer, watching as Peter—already three drinks in—gestured wildly while recounting some ridiculous story involving a pigeon, a stolen sandwich, and a very confused cop.

"So there I am, sandwich in one hand, pigeon literally attacking my face," Peter was saying, his eyes bright with mischief, "and this cop rounds the corner just in time to see me yelling profanities at a bird while covered in mustard."

Jason, leaning against the bar with his usual brooding intensity, smirked into his drink, clearly entertained despite himself. The leather jacket he wore hung open, revealing a worn t-shirt that hugged his frame a little too well for Dick's comfort given what was about to unfold. His eyes hadn't left Peter all night, tracking him with the same intensity he usually reserved for targets.

And then it happened.

Peter, mid-story, went to take a step—whether to emphasize a point or just because he had the coordination of a concussed toddler after his fourth whiskey sour, Dick wasn't sure—and somehow managed to trip over absolutely nothing.

"Whoa—!"

Dick saw it in slow motion. Peter's arms windmilled dramatically, his drink sloshed precariously, and then—with all the grace of a fainting Victorian heroine—he toppled directly into Jason's lap.

Jason, because he had the reflexes of a man who regularly dodged bullets for breakfast, caught him effortlessly, one hand snaking around Peter's waist while the other steadied his drink with the precision of someone who knew alcohol was too precious to waste. His hands automatically settled on Peter's hips to stabilize him, fingers splaying possessively against the fabric of Peter's jeans.

Silence.

Peter blinked up at Jason from where he was now sprawled across his thighs, looking equal parts surprised and way too pleased with himself. His hair was mussed from the fall, lips parted slightly in a way that made Dick want to throw holy water at both of them.

"...I slipped," Peter announced, not moving an inch, his voice dripping with fake innocence that wouldn't fool a concussed goldfish.

Jason's grip tightened slightly, his smirk deepening to dangerous levels. "Sure you did." His voice had dropped an octave, rough around the edges in a way that made Dick consider the merits of spontaneous deafness.

Dick's soul left his body, waved goodbye, and caught the first bus out of Gotham.

Because Peter, the little menace, didn't get up. Oh no. Instead, he wiggled, adjusting himself in Jason's lap like he was trying to get comfortable on a particularly appealing throne. Jason's fingers flexed against his hips, his expression shifting into something dangerously amused, pupils dilating just enough that Dick wished he'd never learned to recognize the signs of arousal during his detective training.

"You know," Peter murmured, just loud enough for Dick to hear and subsequently wish he hadn't, "your lap is much more comfortable than those bar stools."

Jason hummed, one hand sliding up to the small of Peter's back. "Is that so?"

Dick's eye twitched so hard he was pretty sure he'd pulled something. "I know you did that on purpose."

Peter grinned, shameless as a cat who'd just pushed a vase off a shelf. "Prove it."

And then—because the universe hated Dick Grayson with the burning passion of a thousand exploding suns—Peter rolled his hips, just enough to be deliberate, just enough to make Jason's breath hitch audibly. Jason's head tilted back slightly, exposing the line of his throat as his fingers dug into the fabric of Peter's shirt.

Dick made a noise like a deflating balloon that had just witnessed something unholy. "I'm leaving."

Jason, the traitor, didn't even look at him. His hands were still firmly on Peter's hips, thumbs now slipping under the hem of Peter's shirt to brush against bare skin. His voice was a low rumble that Dick desperately wished he couldn't hear. "You're something else, you know that?"

Peter, the absolute gremlin, just laughed and did it again, this time with a slow, deliberate precision that had Jason's jaw clenching in a way that told Dick far more than he ever wanted to know about his brother's self-control.

"You like 'something else,'" Peter countered, shifting to straddle Jason properly now, knees on either side of his thighs. He reached up to brush a strand of hair from Jason's forehead with uncharacteristic tenderness, the gesture somehow more intimate than the obscene grinding.

Dick pulled out his phone and opened the group chat with the speed of a man who had seen things that couldn't be unseen.

Dick: I need brain bleach. Industrial strength. — Or maybe a memory wipe. Is Zatanna available?

The responses were immediate, his phone buzzing with the collective curiosity of his siblings.

Steph: oh my god what did they do now 🍿

Tim: do i even want to know? — don't answer that.

Cass: send video

Duke: wait, who's "they" — OH

Damian: Ugh. Todd's disgusting flirtations strike again. This is why I refuse to accompany him anywhere.

Babs: Location? I'll hack the security cameras for posterity.

Dick didn't dignify that with a reply. Instead, he risked another glance at the disaster unfolding in front of him, immediately regretting his life choices.

Peter had settled in now, one arm slung over Jason's shoulders, fingers playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. He was still murmuring something that made Jason's eyes darken with amusement and something else that Dick refused to acknowledge. Jason's thumbs were tracing idle circles against the exposed skin of Peter's waist, and Dick was this close to throwing himself into Gotham Harbor.

"Y'know," Peter said, voice dripping with faux innocence as he leaned in until their foreheads were nearly touching, "if you wanted me in your lap, you could've just asked."

Jason snorted, but the sound was undercut by the way his hand had migrated to the back of Peter's neck, fingers threading through his hair. "Like you'd have waited for an invitation."

Peter gasped, pressing a hand to his chest like he was scandalized, though the effect was somewhat ruined by how he was practically melded to Jason's front. "Why Mister Todd, I am but a gentleman."

"A gentleman wouldn't be doing what you're doing in public," Jason countered, lips quirking up at the corner in that dangerous way that usually preceded someone getting shot. In this case, Dick feared, the shooting would be metaphorical in a way that would require years of therapy.

"You weren't complaining last night when I—"

Dick made another wounded noise, this one resembling a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "I hate both of you. So much."

Jason finally looked at him, smirk widening to shit-eating proportions. His hand hadn't moved from where it was now cradling the back of Peter's head, thumb brushing against his cheekbone with casual intimacy. "You love us."

Peter, because he was the absolute worst, grinded down with deliberate intent just to watch Dick's horrified expression. Jason's responding intake of breath was sharp enough to cut glass.

"That's it." Dick turned on his heel, nearly knocking over his forgotten beer in his haste to escape. "I'm texting Bruce."

Jason had the audacity to laugh, the sound warm and genuine in a way that Dick would appreciate if it weren't for the fact that Peter was now pressing open-mouthed kisses along his jawline.

"Tell him we said hi," Peter called after him, voice muffled against Jason's skin.

Dick's last image before he fled the bar was of Jason tilting Peter's chin up, eyes hooded as he murmured something that made Peter's expression soften before Jason closed the distance between them.

Peter's laughter, followed by the distinct sound of Jason's low groan, chased him all the way out the door and into the blessed reprieve of Gotham's polluted night air.

His phone buzzed again.

Alfred: Might I suggest a nice cup of tea and perhaps some memory-suppressing meditation techniques, Master Richard?

Dick groaned. One day, he was going to learn to say no when Jason asked him to hang out.

But for now, he was going to need that brain bleach.

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green, Part 5

WC:1063, Masterpost

CW: dissociation, self esteem issues, (past) dehumanization, referenced torture and experimentation

Danny flinched, again.

He felt bad for it, Red Robin was being as careful as possible sliding the rubber fabric between the collar and Danny’s skin, but it was just that having hands on the collar like that freaked Danny out. He closed his eyes and mentally ran through the numbers of pi. He used to know over a hundred of them. Now he was only certain of about seventy-six or so. There were a lot of things that used to be so much clearer in his memory than they were now.

“Just the overlap now,” Red (the others just called him Red), said.

He flinched again as Red pressed lightly against his neck to overlap the fabric, but the hands pulled away after.

“Do you need a little break?” the other one, Nightwing, asked.

“No. I just want this off, please,” Danny begged. He had gotten used to begging in the last year. Years?

“We’ll get it off,” Red said confidently.

Danny tried to trust that. He kept his eyes closed.

A gloved hand slipped into Danny’s, giving him something to cling to other than the sheets. Danny recoiled at the touch at first, but when the hand started to pull away, Danny twisted their fingers together and held on tightly. He didn’t open his eyes to see who’s hand he was holding.

As Red started to work on the collar, Danny couldn’t help but tense. He’d been shocked by it so many times. He was like Pavlov’s dog, collar and all, he thought bitterly.

“Almost there,” Red warned.

Danny could tell the instant that the seal of the collar was broken. It was like moving a limb that had fallen asleep, but the pins and needles were everywhere, inside and out. It was agonizing.

It was a relief.

A damp cloth was dabbing under his nose.

He blinked rapidly and Nightwing came into focus. The hero looked so concerned.

“Wha…” Danny croaked.

“Nose bleed,” Nightwing explained. He folded the cloth and set it aside.

Moving slowly (though Danny still struggled to follow the motion) Nightwing reached out and places his hands on either side of Danny’s face. Gently, he tilted it this way and that. “You didn’t exactly lose consciousness, but you… went somewhere else.”

“I do that, I think,” Danny said. The hands started to pull away and Danny swayed after them. One returned to help keep him upright. Danny’s eyes fluttered closed. “It was easier… to be away than there.”

The thumb stroked gently across Danny’s cheek.

He could feel himself tearing up. When was the last time he had been touched with kindness? Why was he now? They didn’t know what he was, that’s why.

“You’re safe here, I promise. You don’t have to go away anymore.”

-

Jason looked up from the cutting board when Dick came out of the bedroom. Dick did his best to offer his brother a smile as he took a seat on one of the slightly rickety stools at the kitchen counter.

“How is he?” Jason asked. He had swapped his helmet for just a domino. (To Dick it was a pretty clear sign that Jason has already claimed the kid as theirs.)

“Better. The nose bleed stopped and he was fully conscious again,” Dick said. “He says he does that, goes away like that. It sounds like it was a defense mechanism for whatever those bastards put him through.”

“Fucking hell,” Jason muttered.

“Yeah. I’ll let the others know so that anyone looking over him knows to watch out for it. Especially if anyone takes him out shopping or anything…”

“Right,” Jason said with a grimace, clearly picturing how badly that could go.

Dick just gave a little nod. He dragged the table that Tim must have been using close and opened it to check on the rest of the family.

“You, me, and Cass?” Jason asked a few minutes later.

“What?”

“One of us three should always be here, right? Or Babs if we move to a different safe house.”

Dick hummed thoughtfully. “There’s something to be said for moving safe houses if the kid plans to wait awhile before wanting to see Bruce.”

This safe house was bearable, but it really was one of their worse ones. It didn’t even had a table to eat at or a television. They could deal with the one bedroom and a couch, but Dick got the feeling there would be a lot of Bats stopping by whenever possible and that it wouldn’t quite cut it.

“We can see how Kid is tomorrow after rest and food,” Jason said. “If he’s up to being in a car with us we can easily move to any of them.”

“Maybe the one on Rosserie Street?”

“Which one is that?”

“Upper East Side.”

“Ah, yeah,” Jason said with a little nod, pushing the things off his cutting board and into the large pot on the stove. “That one would work. More space and better stuff.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Dick said. It was one of their apartments set up for a long term hideout if one of them was too injured to be seen in public or supposedly out of town as cover. “And big enough beds people can share.”

Jason snorted. “I’ll stick to the couch. The demon brat kicks.”

“Do you think he’ll stop by?” Dick asked as he picked at the thick rubber case on the tablet.

With a heavy sigh, Jason crossed his arms and leaned a hip against the counter. “Yeah, I think he will. I think he’ll need to, for his own sake. I’d rather it be when you were here, you’re the only one of us who can really control him if he gets… territorial.”

“He’s been better,” Dick pointed out.

“This is different and you know it. This is blood, even if it’s green. Hell, it being green might actually make it worse.”

Dick groaned and let his head thunk onto the tablet. “Yeah… I’ll talk with him and try to get B and A to also.”

“Yeah,” Jason said and reached over to pat Dick on the back.

Why did being a the oldest have to be so exhausting? And now there was another one. Not that Dick would trade any of them away, but he could really use a vacation, a drink, and a long nap.

I no longer tag, but you can subscribe to the masterpost.

---

AN: Dick really really wants to hug Danny but is really really afraid of scaring him. Don't worry, he'll get hugs.

[yvesssssssss]

omg plz plz plz could you write baker natsuki with his gf who’s helping him bc they both quit the JCC to have a quiet life and they are acting like parents with mafuyu !! and natsukis gf is really kind and sweet and she’s an extrovert but kind of an airhead

Sweet Escapes

(Baker!Natsuki Seba x Reader + Mafuyu Seba)

I hope you like it!!(⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

Natsuki Seba never thought he'd trade the sound of gunfire for the quiet hum of a bakery oven, but here he was—flour dusted on his apron, meticulously piping whipped cream onto a shortcake, and glaring at a batch of croissants that weren't perfect enough.

And here you were—twirling around in your own flour-covered apron, holding a tray of cookies like it was a priceless treasure, and chattering away about absolutely nothing.

“I think the pigeons outside are planning something,” you mused, carefully placing the cookies in the display case. “Every time I leave crumbs, they just stare at me instead of eating. Do you think they have, like, a pigeon mafia?”

Natsuki let out a slow breath, glancing at you from where he was delicately arranging strawberries on a tart. “They’re just pigeons.”

“But what if they’re not?” You gasped, eyes wide. “What if they’re secretly assassins from the JCC sent to make sure we don’t talk?”

Mafuyu, who had been sitting on a stool in the corner peeling an orange, made a disgusted noise. “Why do I have to listen to this nonsense while I’m trying to eat?”

“Because,” you said, spinning on your heel and poking his cheek, “you love us.”

Mafuyu scowled and swatted your hand away, but you caught the tiny, reluctant smile he tried to hide behind his orange slices.

The three of you had somehow settled into this odd little dynamic ever since you and Natsuki quit the JCC. You were supposed to have a quiet life—Natsuki was supposed to bake, you were supposed to handle customers (because he was hopeless at it), and Mafuyu was supposed to go back to being a normal kid.

Instead, it felt like you and Natsuki had adopted a particularly grumpy teenage son.

MORNING CHAOS

“Oi.” Mafuyu leaned against the counter, watching Natsuki aggressively knead dough. “You stayed up all night again, didn’t you?”

“Shut up.”

“You definitely stayed up all night.”

You peeked over Natsuki’s shoulder, gasping. “Oh no, did you do the thing where you obsess over getting the dough exactly right again?”

“I had to,” Natsuki muttered. “The consistency was off.”

“It tasted fine,” you pointed out.

“It could be better.”

Mafuyu sighed. “And then you wonder why you pass out mid-sentence.”

You patted Natsuki’s head, flour sticking to his hair. “You should take a nap after this batch.”

“I don’t need—”

“Mafuyu, back me up.”

Mafuyu raised an eyebrow. “What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll make you an extra batch of those chocolate scones you like!” you chirped.

Mafuyu shrugged. “Yeah, Natsuki, go take a nap.”

Natsuki shot him a glare, but you and Mafuyu simply stared at him expectantly. He groaned, finally giving in.

“Fine. After this batch.”

Mafuyu smirked. “Whatever you say, Dad.”

Natsuki nearly dropped the dough.

You clapped your hands. “Ooh! Does that make me the mom?”

Mafuyu looked between you and Natsuki, then snorted. “Yeah, sure. I mean, one of you actually acts like a responsible adult.”

“That’s definitely me,” you declared proudly.

Mafuyu and Natsuki both stared at you.

You blinked. “Wait. Is it not?”

CUSTOMER SERVICE DISASTER

Natsuki wasn’t bad at talking to people. He just... didn’t like it.

Which is why you handled all customer interactions. You were a natural—always smiling, always chatting, and somehow making regulars feel like they’d walked into a warm hug.

Except for today.

Because today, someone was blatantly flirting with you.

Natsuki stood behind the counter, gripping a piping bag way too tightly, watching as some guy leaned against the glass display case, smirking.

“You must be the sweetest thing in this bakery,” the guy said.

“Oh!” You beamed. “That’s so nice! But actually, the strawberry shortcake is the sweetest. Natsuki perfected the recipe after five all-nighters—he’s super dedicated!”

Natsuki fought the urge to groan. You weren’t even aware that you were being hit on.

The guy chuckled. “I was actually talking about you.”

“Ohhh.” You blinked, tilting your head. “That’s nice! Do you want a sample?”

Mafuyu, standing beside Natsuki, let out a wheeze. “She’s so oblivious it’s painful.”

Natsuki exhaled sharply, finally stepping forward. “We’re closed.”

The guy frowned. “Uh, the sign says open.”

Natsuki grabbed the sign, flipped it, and deadpanned, “Closed.”

The guy muttered something under his breath before finally walking out.

Mafuyu smirked. “You gonna admit you were jealous, or—”

“I’ll make your scones burnt next time.”

Mafuyu held his hands up in surrender.

You, meanwhile, just patted Natsuki’s arm. “That was kind of rude, Natsu.”

He sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “I know.”

“You should at least let him try a sample before kicking him out.”

Mafuyu doubled over laughing.

Natsuki wondered if retiring from the JCC was actually the hardest mission of his life.

FAMILY DINNER (SORT OF)

At the end of the day, the three of you sat at the small table in the back of the bakery, eating dinner together.

You had made the food (because Natsuki refused to cook anything that wasn’t dessert), and Mafuyu was leaning back in his chair, complaining about his school assignments.

Somehow, despite the flour fights, the exhaustion, and the occasional near-fights with weird customers, this was... nice.

“You guys are weird,” Mafuyu muttered, poking at his food.

You grinned. “You love us.”

Mafuyu rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

Natsuki watched as you excitedly launched into a new theory about the ‘pigeon mafia,’ and despite himself, he smiled.

Maybe this quiet life wasn’t so bad after all.

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

Master fic post-

The Drakes Spoiled Brat (im sorry dad.) WIP- 111.9k (18 (temp) chapters)

Summary- Tim Drake Centric, Tim dies as Red Robin only to wake up w/ the past 12 years of his life erased. Now he makes it his personal mission to help his family even when no longer one of them, helped by his various personas to navigate his quadruble life. But nothing stays secret forever and hiding in plain sight from the bats will only work for so long. Time is running out (in more way than one)

(FIC PLAYLIST)

Mama Bird (but its your brother ready to fight god) WIP- 10.9k (5 chapters)

Summary- Tim Drake Centric, Tim just wants to get a case done but needs the Batcomputer. Its sheer circumctance hes in the cave when Robin and Batman finish patrol. But when Batman attacks Damian over a fear gas incident? Tim might push the lines of "no kill code" Followed by lots of core four + extended siblings comfort and coming to terms with bad dad bruce wayne.

Extra info-

As of right now all of this is about the Drakes Spoiled Brat since my other fic is BRAND new

Concept for "The Drakes Spoiled Brat" comes from a post by @brucewaynehater101 (whom I adore) linked here (I know nothing about their original inspo tho)

Fanart/Character art-

Gala scene- (Credit myself)

Family Guy Tim- (Credit also me)

Cafe concept art + Character info (me again)

Gay Panic Steph ( @ ihavenotsleptindays)

Steph + Alan panic ( @ yjcorefourenjoyer)

Cafe Staff art + Info (still me)

Fic inspired by mine!! (they dont have a tumblr)

Cafe staff renders!! CONSIDERED MOST CANON

Mama Bird Tim- "Bats dont kill" ( @ ihavenotsleptindays)

Steph Narration panel (- @ neclasy)

Faces of Tim renders (Credit- Me)

Timothy will sue ( @burglar-bird)

Damian- Threat Timothy- Proud ( @ yjcorefourenjoyer)

Badass Cardinal ( @r eader-from-another-dimension)

Cafe crew Pokemon form ( @ reader-from-another-dimension)

Trifecta Timmy ( @ reader-from-another-dimension)

Pie & Grandpa ( @ shrugsinchinese)

Long hair Timmy ( @ twoarrsandonesea)

Queen bee Tim ( @ reader-from-another-dimension)

Reflection ( @ arty-cosmo)

Painting (@ reader-from-another-dimension)

Wisp (@ twoarrsandonesea)

The Drakes (@ neclasy)

Whats missing? (@ arty-cosmo)

Nepo baby (@ nicecupofangst)

Pigeon Book (@ arty-cosmo)

BLENDER TIME!! (@ arty-cosmo)

Cardinal % his birbs (@ reader-from-another-dimension)

Cardinal & Birbo (@ joyliit)

Spooky Eyes Cardinal (@ primthegreat)

Snatched waist <33 (@ runningoncoffeandspite)

GWENNN!!! (@ mockingjaylad)

Cardinal & Wisp cuddles (@ arty-cosmo)

Sassy Cardinal (@ 1tabbymore)

Wisp & Cardinal piccy (@nicecupofangst)

Cardinal Doodle (@a-single-anonymous-duck)

AU interaction (@joyliit)

Sketches!!! (@reader-from-another-dimension)

UwU Tim (@screaming-but-also-hhh)

Collage!! (@hyena-teafs)

Reginald (@arty-cosmo)

Cardinal Sketch (@i-have-a-coffee-problem)

Chibi Cardinal (@azrial-has-an-vendetta)

Found Footage (me)

Gwen! (ive given up on tags- they're listed in links)

Wisp Incident

Repairing Wisp

Wisp Reunion

Gwennyy <33

Cunty Timothy

Cardinal Confrontation

Cardinal REFERENCE

Miraculous Pigeon man- but Tim

NEPO BABYYY

Heterochromia Tim vibe

Obi & "The Vermin"

Plushy Lineup

LESBIANS

Smiley Gwen

Sparkly Timothy

Jason & Tim (Bluejay and Cardinal)

Bleeding in the snow

PAPER PLATE FANAART >:D

Barista QUEEN Gwen

Birthday Gwen!!

BIRD HEIST

Batfam Zine

Two sides of two masks

Snapchat

Cafe Birthday!!

Plastic bag punishment

Happy Birthday!

Stool pose

WHOLE ASS ANALYSIS???

First interaction

Apple Pie

Break from Gala

Timmy lore

Alan freakout

Totally sane clueboard

T H E PAPER PLATE FANART MY BELOVED MWAH

Jason vs Timothy

Bloody Wings

Lil date <33

Froggy Umbrella

Strong arm Carry

Cardinal and the Flock

B&W Sketchy Cardinal & Wisp

[multifamdomfan]

Holy Ground

AU: Rockstar Crowley / Manager Aziraphale

Rating: Soft, pining, slow burn, romantic tension

---

Crowley wasn’t subtle.

Not when he performed shirtless on stage, hair wild and eyes glittering like sin.

Not when he flirted shamelessly with the audience.

And definitely not when he stared at Aziraphale from the stage like he was the only one in the crowd that mattered.

Which, to Crowley, he was.

Aziraphale, ever the professional, refused to entertain the idea. He wore crisp suits, kept his schedule tighter than Heaven’s HR department, and always responded to Crowley’s antics with a tight-lipped sigh and a “Really, Crowley.”

But Crowley noticed things.

Like how Aziraphale always made sure he had lemon-ginger tea after shows because “you strain your voice when you growl like a bloody wolf.”

Or how he refused to let any interviewer twist Crowley’s words.

Or how he never missed a performance, even if he insisted it was “purely business.”

Crowley had been in love with him for years.

So, he wrote a song.

He didn’t tell anyone what it was about. Not the band. Not the press. Not even Aziraphale.

Especially not Aziraphale.

It was a soft one—rare for him. No screaming guitars. Just a haunting piano, a slow, pulsing rhythm, and his voice, rough with honesty.

“He don’t know he’s holy,

Don’t see the light he leaves behind,

But I’ve knelt in cathedrals less sacred

Than the space where our fingers brushed that time…”

He played it for the first time in London. Full crowd. Sold out. He didn’t introduce it. Just sat on the stool, adjusted the mic, and let it out.

Backstage, Aziraphale stood frozen, heart hammering. He recognized the lyrics. Recognized the melody. Recognized the soft way Crowley sang the word “angel.”

And he knew.

He knew.

After the show, Crowley came backstage, trying to act casual.

“So… what’d you think?” he asked, pretending to be nonchalant as he peeled off his jacket, but his voice cracked on the last word.

Aziraphale didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he stepped forward, eyes impossibly wide and glassy. And then, very quietly, he said:

“…Was that for me?”

Crowley shrugged. “Maybe. I mean. It could be about anyone, really. Very generic. Could be about a priest. Or a ghost. Or a very dramatic pigeon—”

Aziraphale kissed him.

It was soft. Careful. Like Aziraphale had been holding back for years, and now, with one verse and a chorus, the dam had cracked.

When they pulled apart, Aziraphale whispered, “I know you’re not subtle. But I had to be sure.”

Crowley’s grin was so wide it nearly split his face.

“Guess I’ll have to write a sequel.”

---

The next album was called Divine Intervention.

Track 2: “Holy Ground (For A.Z.)”

Track 7: “Miracle”

Track 11: “Yes, Angel, It’s About You (Stop Asking)”

And Aziraphale still made him drink the lemon tea.

Even if it was now with a kiss on the cheek and a blush.

---

Here's the full lyrics

"Holy Ground"

Written by A. J. Crowley (aka “The Serpent”)

For A.Z.

[Verse 1]

He walks like heaven never left him,

Like mercy draped in linen white,

He speaks and I forget I’m burning—

One word and I forget the night.

He don’t see the way he saves me,

Doesn’t know he calms the storm,

I’m a devil in a leather jacket,

But he’s the fire that keeps me warm.

[Chorus]

He don’t know he’s holy,

Don’t see the light he leaves behind,

But I’ve knelt in cathedrals less sacred

Than the space where our fingers brushed that time.

And I would fall, I would drown,

If I could stay where he’s around—

‘Cause when I’m near him, I swear it now:

I’m standing on holy ground.

[Verse 2]

He reads old books like they’re people,

Makes tea like it’s an art divine,

Keeps my chaos in his pocket

And still pretends everything’s fine.

He won’t let himself be worshipped,

Thinks love’s a thing he has to earn,

But I would sing a thousand lifetimes

Just to feel his quiet return.

[Chorus]

He don’t know he’s holy,

Don’t see the light he leaves behind,

But I’ve knelt in cathedrals less sacred

Than the space where our fingers brushed that time.

And I would fall, I would drown,

If I could stay where he’s around—

‘Cause when I’m near him, I swear it now:

I’m standing on holy ground.

[Bridge]

I’m no saint, never claimed to be,

Wrote my name in ash and sin—

But he calls me “dear” and suddenly

I’m someone worth letting in.

[Final Chorus]

He don’t know he’s holy,

He don’t see the light he gives,

But if angels walk among us,

Then he’s proof that mercy lives.

And I would fall, I would bow,

I’d burn it all just to allow

One look from him, one whispered sound—

I’m standing on holy ground.

[Outro]

He don’t know he’s holy…

But I do.

And I always will.

---

[chungledown-bimothy]

The Fix's Facts

The Big Guy:

-For every snake, there is one snake dick. Snakes have 2 dicks. (said thrice)

The Scattered Mind:

-The tails on a swallowtail butterfly's wings don't serve any aerodynamic purpose. They're there so birds will grab them, at which point they'll break off and the swallowtail can escape.

-Eyes can't be itchy. They, unlike the membranes around them, don't have itch receptors.

-More than half the bones in your body are in your hands and feet.

F For Freezer: (and for facts!)

-The urethra contains taste receptors

-When eagles grip onto something, they have to flex a muscle to let go. An eagle can hold onto something so hard that even after it dies, it never lets go.

-Most of the pyramids on Earth are in Sudan.

-Pelicans have three stomachs, one of which is just for bones.

-Acids are easy to detect, oxygen and carbon dioxide are not. But when carbon dioxide meets water, like it does in our blood, it creates carbonic acid. This means our bodies can detect the presence of carbon dioxide, but not the presence or absence of oxygen.

If we are deprived of oxygen, we have no idea that that is happening as long as we are breathing out carbon dioxide. If we are not breathing oxygen, we just go to sleep and die. But if we allow the CO2 to build up, we panic. We flail. We break. Until finally, we die.

Grappling With Death:

-People can have constipation so bad that it will back up and impact their vagus nerve. As they are eliminating that impacted stool, it can have an effect on the nervous system so great that they forget who they are. Constipation-related amnesia. A woman in Tokyo forgot who she was for 8 hours.

-Bones are living.

-The reason we produce blood inside of our bones is because it's one of the places that's safest from UV radiation.

-There are some birds that can produce a nutritious substance that's a kind of milk. It's almost like lactation, but it evolved separately (convergent evolution). Pigeons do it.

-There are some salamanders that feed their babies their own skin

BONUS ROUND: Brennan "Bird Facts" Lee Mulligan

-There are some species of birds that have a secondary pouch in their esophagus/digestive tract where they have what's called a craw, that has stones or other hard material to help break up food matter before it passes into the rest of their digestive tract.

-Woodpeckers have a tongue bone called a hyoid bone that wraps around their brain because it needs to protect their brain from the impact of pounding into trees to devour their common meal items, grubs and larval insects.

Emergency Powers:

-You can't hum while you're blocking your nose.

-The longest animal is the bootlace worm.

-There are some reptiles that have a light-sensing organ on the top of their head so they can sense shadows that might be coming from something that's coming for them.

BONUS ROUND 2: Brennan's Back, Baby

-The black mamba has been observed at top speeds of 12.5 miles per hour. At that speed, it would almost certainly catch even some of the fastest humans on the planet. Even faster people wouldn't have the stamina, because resting or average speed is 7.5 miles an hour, which is faster than the human average, which is 6, and that's for healthy adults.

-The reticulated python is the longest snake in the world. The biggest is the anaconda.

Case Closed:

-There's little creatures in the sea that make pretty little lights. Why would they do that? It attracts little fishes who suck them up, and the light makes the fish glow. This attracts more little fish.

-The North Pole is actually a South Pole, because when you look at a compass, it points north. But the north pole of the compass is what's pointing north, and north poles point to the south poles.

BONUS ROUND 3: Once More, With Feeling

-Diners originate from dining cars on trains. The first diners were the dining cars of trains that had been taken out of service and were used stationarily as restaurants.

[anintelligentoctopus]

Putting a couple of Howard Duff noirs on my Noirvember watchlist now bc the theme of this autumn is Organised