Sunafterwinter - Sun.after.winter

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. 

Dick started his truck back to the cave. "How can you live with yourself after letting me die?" Dick ignored the hallucination, the real Jason wouldn't be anywhere near here.

The hallucination this time was ruthless, mocking him every chance it got, bringing out his fears and making his gut sink. By the time he arrived at the cave his eyes stung a little but the hallucination had finally disappeared. Dick took a breath to compose himself.

"Wing! How'd it go?" Tim called out when he entered the Batcave.

Dick smiled back. "Great, got the information we needed"

Damian came over. "Did the new gas mask work?"Huh?

"Why would I have used a gas mask?" Dick swore that every head in a twenty foot radius snapped to him instantly.

Jason started checking him over with his eyes. Mother-hen "Because there was a shit ton of left over Fear Toxin in that building"

Oh "Is that why the hallucinations were worse this time?" Maybe it was the Toxin in his system, maybe it was the fact he was exhausted but he didn't think it through fully before those words tumbled out of his mouth.

Jason's hands were cupping his face now, moving his head whichever way to get a better look. "You have hallucinations often?"

Shit, There's no way I'm getting out of this, am I? "only once in a blue moon"

"You had hallucinations and you didn't tell any of us?" Oh gosh, Bruce is mad too.

"We weren't talking when they started, didn't think it was a big enough deal to call about"

"When did they start? Why didn't you tell me when we started talking again?"

I'm getting interrogated, aren't I? "Not long after Jason died and I knew how to deal with it by the time we talked again.

Tim started mumbling incomprehensibly- if it started shortly after Jason died... -before asking Dick a question. "What are your hallucinations of?"

He was reluctant to answer, Jason might blame himself if- Damian was hugging him, his head tucked into Dick's side as he rested under Dick's arm. "You don't have to deal with it alone, imbecile."

"..I taught you that" Damian only grunted affirmatively into his side. Dick couldn't find the heart to lie anymore. "I saw Jason"

Jason let out a pained sound, from the pitch Dick could tell he was trying to hold it back. Tim seemed to be in that state between caring brother and analytical vigilante. "Did you continue to have Hallucinations of him after he came back?"

"Stayed the same, the only real difference is now Jason's older sometimes."

Jason let out a croak "I'm sorry, Wing"

Dick's heart clenched, this was what I was trying to avoid "it's not your fault, if anything I'm to blame"

Jason pulled him into a hug, Damian didn't fight it either. "Shut up Dickhead."

Tim finished typing what he learned and dragged Bruce into the hug with him, he'd have to ask Dick more about his hallucinations later.

Not poetry, but needs to be said.

Here is what my mother told me when I was young: the world is harsh. It is unforgiving and it has teeth. Take no shit.

Here is what I have learned from the world: it is wounded and the humans scattered throughout it are rarely the rats of Rat Park, they are the tired, trembling experiments in need of more kindness, not less. Do no harm.

Here's what I have learned from the world: humans are good. They are soft, and gentle, and they are wounded, all of them. When humans were young and wild, they looked at the snarling beasts that came to their fires, the ones with sharp teeth in their long muzzles, and they saw soft fur and the welcome-home wag of a tail.

Here is what I have seen: Given an opportunity, humans will choose creation and love. They will create art, and music, and community. They will tell each other stories, sing each other songs, help each other heal. Even without safety, even when it wounds them, they will love. They will love each other - their family, their friends, their mates - and they will love the world.

Here is what I have seen: there is hope. Sometimes it is ugly and twisted and burns, but humans will hold onto it with both hands and their entire heart. They will share it with one another. They will use it to tame beasts with fur and teeth as well as the ones that live inside of themselves. They will create because of it; they will say I hope this makes someone smile, I hope this makes someone cry. I hope this saves someone. And it will.

Here is what I know to be true: evidence of a healed broken bone from thousands of years ago reminds us that what makes us human isn't our wounds, but how we care for one another through them.

Here is what my mother told me: the world will gnash its sharp teeth at me. It will try to wound me.

Here is what I know to be true: I am human, and humans heal one another and can turn sharp teeth into wagging tails.

Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep

By Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there. I do not sleep.

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.

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;

I am not there. I did not die.

if you think about it, every time we tranquilize animals to transport them safely to another place, we are the sleep paralysis demon

Bartender: thanks for stopping that bar fight, spiderman. Can I get you a drink? It’s on the house

Peter: thank you, but I can’t

Bartender: why not

Peter:

Bartender:

Peter, trying not to give his age away: I’m pregnant

Faith

By sun.after.winter

The sides draw closer

Repulsion and longing,

Back and forth, back and forth

Tossing me out to sea

It's been so long,

Years it's been encroaching

Crawling, wave by wave, ever closer

To drown - or to fly

Do I turn back, or do I turn my back

Symbols that once meant so much -

Safety, love, hope, closeness

Now a symbol taunting me, to choose

He's god, he's love, he's hope, he's resilience

So why do I hold back?

Am I still his child?

Loveless, as I am.

Picking and choosing between his words, his laws,

Simply so I can belong?