are the europeans awake yet

my dash is dead and i want to procrastinate on writing this thing -_-

dickgraysonusinghissafeword:

here are both the covers i’ll be using for my jay/dick fanmixes (9 w 6) stay tuned dear listeners

xeraeus:

LauGhs I donn’t know which Dick you wanted :’DD Thankyoufortheprompt and lovelycommentyou’retookind asefgf

cranberrydelight:

I’m gonna miss Steph’s run as Batgirl

[bird!AU] Steller Scarlet pt. VI

batcheeks:

image

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

The blackbird liked to think that generally, he was an easy bird to get along with. Sure, he could be moody and distant when he had one of those days where he just felt like he didn’t fit in, missing his own kind. He may or may not have tried to bump their smaller cardinal sibling off their branch when it was singing during the wee hours and he was still trying to sleep. He could be downright nasty to the chickadees that thought they could snack on his peanut butter apples at the birdfeeder.

Not so much when he was molting. He had been the only one of the three who began molting when the seasons changed: the jay had already finished replacing the blue feathers on its wings and abdomen which had been worn from raising the cardinal, and the latter had only recently attained its bright red adult plumage.

He was not so lucky. The many weeks of moving through the thick shrubbery and flying back to and from the nest had left his tailfeathers in a pretty sorry state, and right now he was essentially tail-less, making flying a very.. embarassing undertaking. To top things off, he was pretty sure he was a few red feathers removed from being completely bald on his head. The itching and the increasing chill was unbearable.

So he was huddled on a branch watching the goings about of the other two, not feeling up to doing anything. Having barely eaten the last few days, he lacked the strength as well. Casting a forlorn look at the increasingly crowded birdfeeder, he began to feel sleepy and his eyes started drooping.

It was then that another bird, probably the jay, landed somewhere next to him, and the sturdy branch vibrated as it hopped over. It was definitely the jay: he recognised those lightfooted hops anywhere. He kept his eyes closed, hoping it showed that he didn’t want to be disturbed. The other bird did nothing, seemingly content just sitting next to him.

After a while though, he heard a slight chirping sound. It was a subtle, sweet song, and it was coming from right next to.. no way. His heartbeat sped up as he realised the jay was “whispering” to him, a special song it normally reserved for a mate. His normally loud, boisterous friend was chirping at him like a timid bluebird in spring. Was it trying to make him feel better? Or had it gone crazy? 

His resolve crumbled. Lazily, he opened one eye. The blue-spangled crest of the other bird was right up in his face, its sparkling black eyes fixed on his flaky bald head. How unsightly.

Just as his eye drooped closed again, the jay’s beak poked at his, prying it open.

Peanut butter. This idiot jay was feeding him his favourite thing in the world. It was an awkward clashing as he resisted the urge to open his mouth as far as it would go and looking like a pleading chick.

He failed utterly.

Here you can listen to the Steller’s Jay’s whisper song

honeycrackle:

I can’t find the post in my likes, but someone talked about how Jason (I think?) would do this to Bruce. Alfred’s been sworn to secrecy.

fuckyeahbatfans:

↳congratulations oz-xiii!

an autobiography by Dick Grayson. 

nininghasfeelings:

fursasaida:

the-cinnamon-peelers-wife:

mochente:

Hari Kondabolu tells a feminist dick joke.

Fuck. Yes.

So I thought I should let everyone know that I’m in love, no big deal.

excuse me but

this man has impaired my judgement

61389 5 hours ago via / source
tiny brujay by i-eat-popstars-for-breakfast
aausten