A ☾

[skeletomez]

it’s all “ai this” and “ai that” but can ai obsess over fake scenarios in its head for hours without writing anything? no, I didn’t think so

[fightingbymoonlight]

Seeing people I know and like using AI is making me understand the protagonists of those old time sci fi dystopia's.

"Oh I don't normally use AI, I just wanted it to plan my trip"

You lived on this planet for decades, you know what you like, there are hundreds of websites where you can type into any search engine " things to do in [area]" and have at least a hundred different options.

"Oh I only use it so I can figure out what to make during the week with what I have"

The most popular website as you type in "recipes" into google have sections where you click dinner- quick and easy and those usually rely on staples + 1 or 2 items. I found 30 recipes on chicken alone.

"I had a writing idea, so I typed a few sentences into Chat GPT and I was able to write 20 pages with it."

Youdidn'twriteit.Youdidn'twriteit.youdidn'twriteit.youdidn'twriteit.YOUDIDN'TWRITEIT.YOUDIDN'TWRITEIT.YOUDIDN'TWRITEIT.

[fella-lovin-fella]

i hate it when people mistake "etymology" with "entomology." like, i know where they coming from but it still bugs me

[ivynightshade]

fatima aamer bilal, from i mother it the absence of her, iii. i am not a person that can be loved for a very long time excerpt from moony moonless sky.

[ubuyo]

liking a character from a thing you don’t like

[angel--cassie]

[vincian4]

I'm so Uninterested in Ur bullshit

[just4g1rlyth1ngs777]

listening to songs my younger self used to love is the closest i’ll ever get to a time machine

[pinkertoast]

Sometimes I think if I Message people they will get mad and Deactivate and then Kill Me

[creativepromptsforwriting]

I don't need AI to write. I can create fake scenarios in my head perfectly fine myself.

[h0neymoon08]

i hate my mother sm she makes me want to kms

[loveelss]

life got so serious i forgot i liked reading books

[littlemissclairebiggs]

[4amflowermelody]

being a fearful-avoidant is one hell of a drug bc like i love you so much and i wish for our souls to merge but also i don’t deserve you so please stay away from me i’m such an awful person but it would be nice if you did stay

[blueberrycasanova]

i think dumbledore was growing weed in the forbidden forest the whole time and that’s why it was forbidden. that’s also why he acts the way he does.

[vamplire]

vampires kissing the spot they’re about to bite has me nodding my head like yup that’s the good shit right there

[njghtiee]

"kinda makes us sound official"

plot! you and dick aren't official..or at least not yet. you haven't even kissed, just went on a date or two (i'm planning on posting about those too!) and even if you would never admit it loud, mostly because dick would tease you relentlessly, you were already into him, enough for you to focus only on him and no other guy. but what happens when your colleague tries to ask you out and dick happens to eavesdrop?

a/n: this is another scene of my dick x cop!reader writings since rn i'm focused on writing about that, requests are open for anything btw! share all your ideas and thoughts!! fem reader implied

The Gotham night had finally slowed down. The precinct lights hummed overhead, and you were standing at the coffee machine, pouring yourself one last cup before heading out. The shift had been rough, a lot of paperwork, and you were tired, but you were also in a strangely good mood.

Mostly because you knew Dick was swinging by to walk you home.

“Hey, yn" a voice chimed in behind you"

You turned and found yourseld face-to-face with Mark Daniels, one of the younger detectives. He was decent at his job but had a reputation for trying too hard in all the wrong ways. His hair was slicked back, his shirt sleeves rolled up just enough to show off a gym membership, and his grin screamed confidence that wasn’t entirely earned.

“Late night again, huh?” Mark leaned against the counter like it was a bar and not the precinct’s cheapest coffee station. “You should let me buy you a real coffee sometime. Something that doesn’t taste like recycled dishwater.”

You blinked, sipping from your paper cup. “This is fine.”

Mark chuckled. “Come on. I’m serious. A nice café, real beans, maybe dinner after. What do you say?”

You opened your mouth, trying to come up with something polite. The truth was, before Dick, you might’ve given Mark a chance if only to kill the silence in your life. But now? The thought made you want to laugh. You shook your head gently.

“I don’t really do… that" you said vaguely.

“Oh, so you don’t date cops?” Mark teased, leaning closer.

Before you could answer, another voice floated from across the room. Smooth. Calm. Amused.

“I’d listen to her if I were you.”

Mark froze. you stiffened. And when you turned, of course, there was Dick leaning against the doorframe with that infuriatingly perfect ease, dressed down in jeans and a fitted jacket, every bit as casual as if he belonged here. And standing right beside him was Barbara, red hair tied back, arms crossed, eyebrows raised like she was about to enjoy front-row seats to the best comedy in Gotham.

Your stomach dropped.

Mark straightened immediately. “Oh—uh, Grayson. Didn’t see you there.”

“Mm” Dick’s mouth twitched, and you caught the glimmer in his eyes. He was loving this. “You were saying something about dinner?”

Mark hesitated, suddenly aware that the air in the room had shifted. He glanced at you, then at Dick, then quickly back to you. “I—uh—just a friendly offer.”

You glared into your cup and mouthed toward Barbara without moving your head: save me.

Barbara nearly snorted. She shook her head, biting back a grin, clearly in no rush to step in.

Mark cleared his throat awkwardly. “Anyway… offer’s open. You know where to find me.” And with that, he beat a quick retreat, disappearing down the hall.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you'd been holding and turned slowly toward Dick and Barbara.

Both of them were grinning like cats who’d just cornered a mouse.

“You two are the worst” You muttered, stabbing your coffee stirrer into the cup.

“Hey, don’t look at me” Barbara said innocently. “You mouthed save me, not intervene immediately. There’s a difference.”

Dick stepped closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “So. Dinner and coffee, huh? I didn’t know you were fielding offers.”

You shot him a sharp glare, but your cheeks warmed anyway. “Don’t start.”

“Oh, I’m starting.” His smile was wicked. “Because, technically, you don’t have a boyfriend. And technically, that guy wasn’t wrong.”

“Technically,” you fired back, “I already said no. Politely.”

“Yeah,” Dick murmured, leaning closer, his voice dropping even softer. “But I’m not sure you convinced him why.”

Your pulse spiked, and you took a long sip of your coffee to cover it. He was enjoying this way too much. Barbara, of course, looked like she’d just been handed free entertainment for the week.

“Yn,” Barbara said sweetly, “you could’ve just told him you were seeing someone.”

“I can’t” You shot back without thinking.

Both of them raised their brows in unison.

You quickly looked away, muttering, “Because it’s not… official.”

The silence stretched.

Then Dick’s grin returned, slow and dangerous. “So, someone, huh?”

You groaned, pressing her fingers to your temples. “I hate both of you.”

Barbara laughed outright this time, shaking her head. “Oh, no, you love us. And I can’t wait to watch this play out.” She checked her phone, then gave Dick a meaningful glance. “Don’t keep her out too late. And don’t make me regret letting you walk her home.”

With that, Barbara made her exit, leaving you glaring at Dick like you might stab him with your coffee stirrer.

He, of course, was unfazed.

“Walk you home?” he offered cheerfully, as though nothing had just happened.

You sighed, shouldering your bag. “You’re impossible.”

“And you like it.” He nudged you gently with his elbow as they walked out into the Gotham night.

For a while, they were quiet. The city was humming around them, neon lights reflecting in puddles, sirens in the distance. You found yourself walking closer to him than usual, your shoulder brushing his arm.

You didn’t even notice until he glanced down, smiling softly.

“What?” you asked defensively.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. But his smile stayed.

The city’s skyline glowed behind them as you were walking, your cheeks still flushed from the ridiculous scene with Mark. You muttered under your breath, “Unbelievable.”

Dick, walking at your side with that impossible calm confidence, shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. “Unbelievable?” His mouth tilted in that dangerous half-smirk. “I don’t know. I’d say it was extremely believable. Guy sees a beautiful woman at work, decides to shoot his shot. Can’t really blame him.”

You shot him a sharp look, eyes narrowing. “You enjoyed watching me squirm.”

“Oh,” he said, tone rich with mock innocence. “Immensely.” He let out a laugh, head tipping back. “The best part was when you mouthed save me at me and Babs like we were your bodyguards. That was priceless.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hand. “I panicked, okay? I wasn’t expecting—ugh. He’s not even subtle.”

“That’s Gotham for you” Dick quipped, sidestepping a puddle and holding his arm out so you wouldn’t step right into it. “No subtlety. But hey—” His voice softened a little. “You handled it. Pretty gracefully, actually. Could’ve been worse.”

“Gracefully?” you scoffed, still flustered. “I literally told him I ‘wasn’t looking for anything’ while you were standing ten feet away. He must think I’m lying through my teeth.”

Dick’s grin widened. “You were lying through your teeth.”

Your steps faltered just slightly. “What?”

“Come on,” he teased, tilting his head toward you. “You’re not ‘not looking for anything.’ You’re… let’s call it preoccupied. With someone devastatingly charming, criminally handsome, and according to Barbara, an insufferable tease.”

“Wow,” you muttered, shaking your head as you walked. “You’re modest too. Must be exhausting, keeping track of all your own adjectives.”

“Eh.” He shrugged easily, flashing you that boyish smile. “Practice.”

For a moment, it was quiet — the hum of the street, the flicker of a neon sign across the block. You kept your gaze ahead, but your hand brushed against his as you walked, not quite by accident. You didn’t pull away this time.

Your voice was lower when you finally spoke. “You’re right though.”

Dick raised a brow. “About which part? I said a lot of very intelligent things just now.”

“Don’t push it.” You gave him a look, but there was no real fire behind it. Just… warmth. Vulnerability. “I meant about being preoccupied. I… don’t want anyone else asking me out.”

That stopped him cold. His chest tightened, not with surprise — because he’d felt it from her for weeks now — but with the gravity of hearing her admit it.

“You don’t?” he asked softly.

You shook your head. “No. It feels wrong. Even if we haven’t… labeled this, or whatever. I don’t want to.”

You slowed near your car, the air suddenly thick with something unsaid. Dick leaned one shoulder against the door, watching you with those piercing blue eyes. His voice had lost the teasing lilt now; it was lower, steadier.

“You know,” he murmured, “you saying that… kinda makes us sound official.”

You met his eyes, trying to mask how much your pulse was racing. “Does it?”

“Yeah.” He smiled faintly, not smug this time, just genuine. “Pretty sure Babs was seconds away from introducing me as your boyfriend in there.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “She would.”

He tilted his head, studying you. Then, softer: “Does that… scare you? Us being official?”

The question hit you deeper than you expected. You glanced down, thumb brushing the strap of your bag, before answering carefully. “It doesn’t scare me. It’s just… new. But not bad new.”

Dick exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing. He reached out — gently, deliberately — and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers brushed your cheek for a second longer than necessary.

You breath caught, but you didn’t pull back.

He could’ve kissed you right then. God, he wanted to. But instead, he let his hand drop and gave you that small, almost reverent smile.

“Good,” he said softly. “Because the truth is, I haven’t wanted anyone else either. For a long time.”

The weight of that settled between them, unshakable and steady. Your lips parted, your heart thudding against your ribs. You wanted to say something, anything — but all that came out was a quiet, honest:

“…I know.”

Dick’s eyes softened further, crinkling at the edges as he gave her one of those rare smiles — the kind that wasn’t a mask or a tease, but entirely real.

And then, because he couldn’t resist, he added lightly, “But for the record, Mark’s face when I walked up? Worth everything. Guy looked like he just realized he was competing against the Olympic gold medalist of boyfriends.”

You groaned, pushing his shoulder lightly. “You’re insufferable.”

He caught your hand before you could pull it away. “Maybe. But I’m your insufferable. Even if you won’t admit it yet.”

Your eyes held. Your fingers stayed in his.

The kiss didn’t happen — not tonight. But as Dick drove you home, as you fell asleep later with a single rose he’d bought you resting in a glass of water by your nightstand (because yes, he did buy it, casually, as if it meant nothing — but it meant everything), the truth was undeniable:

You weren’t official yet. But you were already yours.