Not "humans Are Inherently Good" Or "humans Are Inherently Evil" But A Secret Third Thing (humans Are

Technically true.

Does gen as a ao3 tag not mean 'there are no ships here'? I keep seeing ships under the gen tag, wondering if my understanding is off. Are there other tags that would be more appropriate for fics without slashes?

Sometimes I like to stare into the face of death.

It awakens a part of me I'd typically rather stay hidden.

A part of me that wishes I was in it's place,

Rotting away slowly,

Unaware of my body as it withers away,

Becoming one with the earth

as I'm somewhere on the other side.

Middle schooler (by a college student)

By sun.after.winter

I am a middle schooler

Stuck in between

Attending your classes

Remaining unseen

Fiery passion

Energy low

Nothing to accomplish

But so much to show

Adult or small child,

Nobody knows

Pendulum swinging

Back, to, and fro

[image id: a four-page comic. it is titled “do not stand at my grave and weep” after the poem by mary elizabeth frye. the first page shows paleontologists digging up fossils at a dig. it reads, “do not stand at my grave and weep. i am not there. i do not sleep.” page two features several prehistoric creatures living in the wild. not featured but notable, each have modern descendants: horses, cetaceans, horsetail plants, and crocodilians. it reads, “i am a thousand winds that blow. i am the diamond glints on snow. i am the sunlight on ripened grain. i am the gentle autumn rain.” the third page shows archaeopteryx in the treetops and the skies, then a modern museum-goer reading the placard on a fossil display. it reads, “when you awaken in the morning’s hush, i am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. i am the soft stars that shine at night. do not stand at my grave and cry.” the fourth page shows a chicken in a field. it reads, “i am not there. i did not die” / end id]

a comic i made in about 15 hours for my school’s comic anthology. the theme was “evolution”

PRAYER CIRCLE FOR BRUCE WAYNE TO SURVIVE RAISING THE MOST PERFECT CHILD EVER

Saw ur post about weird things you know about Dick, got anymore?

Ha, okay. Just little characterization/fun fact things. 

Dick isn’t a fan of Alfred’s cucumber sandwiches. 

...like consistently, not a fan lol. 

Dick also doesn’t like cranberry muffins! 

But one of his favorite Alfred dishes is crab stuffed mushrooms (weirdo). 

Dick likes to watch nature documentaries to relax...and as a result he knows a lot of random animal fun facts. 

He really overthinks mystery tv lol...even Scooby-doo (which he apparently has watched with the Titans/Wally before lol? cute).

Dick uses fancy English Dunhill aftershave, which might be why he has that reputation for smelling good haha? Thank Alfred for that peeps. 

Dick tends to have trouble making his home feel like home. He keeps very busy and doesn’t usually care about stuff, so that translates into very minimal decoration...or not even removing his stuff from storage/boxes without some cajoling. 

though once he does finally decorate lol, it does tend to be very sentimental, meaningful items pretty much exclusively (ie family photos, flying grayson poster, etc.)

And he likes mint chocolate chip ice cream according to @hood-ex! I have no idea where that is from but I love it. 

I think that’s all I feel like doing for now. Maybe I’ll add some more later, idk. Or other people could add little details too. 

O Captain, my Captain

By Walt Whitman

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,

The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,

While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;

                         But O heart! heart! heart!

                            O the bleeding drops of red,

                               Where on the deck my Captain lies,

                                  Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;

Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,

For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

                         Here Captain! dear father!

                            This arm beneath your head!

                               It is some dream that on the deck,

                                 You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,

My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,

The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,

From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;

                         Exult O shores, and ring O bells!

                            But I with mournful tread,

                               Walk the deck my Captain lies,

                                  Fallen cold and dead.