OR MAYBE GET A REAL FUCKING PERSON TO DO YOUR ADS. OR MAYBE READ THEM YOURSELF. INSTEAD OF BUYING MORE AI, YOU COULD GET A GUY FROM CRAIGSLIST TO DO IT FOR CHEAP
People got mad the last time I mentioned Elon Musk is really ugly but he is and it wouldn’t be relevant or worth mentioning if he wasn’t so racist, didn’t have that weird eugenicist streak and wasn’t so disgustingly misogynistic and critical of women’s appearances. We have a guy here who does not fit a single beauty standard on God’s green earth trying to make himself seem superior and trying to make other people feel bad about the way they look.
This site has managed to both downplay the cultural role of 4chan and its proclivities towards recruiting racist mass shooters to publish their Hitlerite manifestos while overly dramatizing kiwifarms, a terrible site that is merely an outgrowth and extension of 4chan stalking/doxxing practices and politics with huge overlaps in user bases, but notably has not produced that many mass shooters. But of course, kiwifarms is the worst thing ever with no relationship to 4chan and 4chan was a normal site that stopped being relevant after 2009 (LMFAO)
4chan’s relationship to transmisogyny also just completely ignored.
The thing about the Karen Read trial is that when I first heard about it I was like “I hope they acquit her because I think women should be allowed to back over their cop boyfriends.” and then I dug into it and realized she genuinely was framed and she was framed by complete dumbasses and if she wasn’t a middle class, college educated, home-owning white woman, they would have gotten away with it and they’ve probably done this to people who could not afford to defend themselves. Then I learned about Sandra Birchmore and the other acts of heinous misconduct and violence committed by the Canton PD and I almost wished it was just a woman killing her fundamentally unlikable cop boyfriend and not open season on girls and women in Canton, Massachusetts. God, what a scary place to live and what a sickening rabbithole to go down.
The pathologization of anger needs to be talked about. What do you mean my therapist is telling me that there’s something “chemically wrong” with me because I am still angry about my mom DYING OF COVID.
of course I’m still angry? My mom and 1.3 million other Americans are dead and you want me to shoot sunshine out of my ass about it?
“But It’s been 3 years since she died, you have complex grief” yeah and she was on a ventilator for 11 days and she kept writing “I am scared” and “I don’t want to die” on a notepad over and over again. While you were still going out unmasked and unvaccinated and coughing all over each other, I was living a nightmare I couldn’t fucking wake up from. And every single day I’m reminded of it in the form of “haha wasn’t the pandemic such a wacky time haha” and “I’m not getting a booster you can’t make me 🤪 (nobody asked)” and “it’s not real they made the numbers up!!!”
“You’re not coping” Ok here’s the deal; I’ll stop feeling this anger when we have a national memorial (we don’t) or a cdc equipped to stop it from happening again (we don’t) or a population that takes a deadly disease seriously BEFORE it effects them personally (WE DON’T!)
until then, I’m pretty sure my anger is A COMPLETELY NORMAL HUMAN REACTION given the facts at hand
→ not canon-compliant ⋆ reader is nonchalant about a lot ⋆ gender-neutral ⋆ reader is around 17 years old ⋆ reader is not a hero ⋆ boring chapter ⋆ not proofread
♫ currently playing: double edged sword - Hailey Picardi
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D I R E C T O R Y
chapter 8 <- you are here -> chapter 10
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Damian watched from his perch upon one of the buildings near Isla's apartment, watching through the clear glass of the balcony as Dick sat across from your little friend, his body language indicating that he was desperate to get something across.
You stood beside the girl, but from where he was, Damian couldn't see your expression, all he could tell was you were supervising. And from your body language, you weren't happy with Dick, arms crossed with your fingers flexing to grip your upper arm.
"Tt… what nonsense.." he said to himself, watching the three of you, at the dingy little table that seemed to wobble when someone leaned too far on its right side.
If this is where you usually spent your days, then Damian couldn't help but think of how ungrateful you are. You'd rather be here, instead of at the manor with family?
Suddenly your friend stood up, he watched as she ran around the table to hug Dick, shaking him slightly with watery looking eyes before she ran out of view. He then watched you walk over to Dick and place your hand on his shoulder before playfully pushing him back and walking away.
Dick turned his head to look out the balcony— downwards, thankfully because he probably would've seen Damian otherwise.
He looked content, tired, most definitely. But also relieved, looking at the small amounts of people that walked across the streets in front of the old apartments.
Damian couldn't put the pieces together. Not knowing made him irritated, so he left soon after watching Dick just wasting his time idly for minutes.
─── ´ˎ˗
Dick didn't know what he was doing here with you, in front of an apartment complex that he remembered patrolling around back when he was Robin. The area overtime has gotten safer, but it's still Gotham, if you spent a lot of time here, he's just worrying about the fact that you might get hurt.
But beside him stood you— who seemed bored— looking through your bag for something before taking out a key he didn't recognize. You inserted it into the entrance door and rotated it onto its side as the lock clicked, you spun it back and took it out, pushing open the door and walking in.
Dick followed after you, if you had a spare key then this had to be a really close friend of yours, had you mentioned them around him? There wasn't any memory of you doing so, it made him feel upset because you were definitely attached to whoever this Isla was.
He instinctively walked toward the elevator in view but stopped when he was you headed up the stairs, you looked back and sighed, "don't know why there's no sign, but this place hasn't had a working elevator in like.. two years?"
"Why wouldn't they put up a sign?" He asked, walking up the steps to chase after you already rounding the corner.
"I don't know, maybe they did put one up and it kept coming off so they gave up." You replied before moving into the pattern of putting one foot up and boosting up to the next step with it.
It was a ways up, but Dick didn't complain and just followed you silently when you finally stopped at floor and turned to look at him.
"Look, Isla isn't usually the type to get all panicky like this so you have to make it right—"
"I know- I will, I swear I'm not the type of person who-"
"I told her that, but she only knows that I don't like you very much, so in turn, she doesn't like you very much. Sorry not sorry about that.. anyways, just do your thing, be charismatic and assure her you're not the kind of asshole who sues over nothing."
He opened his mouth to speak but you raised your hand in front of his face, the weak light above casting a pale handprint shadow over his face as your head shook side to side, "no, I don't need a reply, just do it."
Without another word, you spun around and walked to one of the doors, pressing it open as the light streamed through the windows of the apartment, taking off your shoes and putting them on the rack beside the doorway.
Isla sat on her sofa with her foot tapping incessantly as she looked up at the sound of the door opening. In followed Dick, his own shoes sliding off his feet as he put them aside, a warm, soft smile on his face.
"I- sir, I'm so sorry about that" she said, looking at the blooming bruise on his cheek, but he smiled brightly and shook his head.
"Please, I get it, swear." He said, looking over at the table by the balcony and using his thumb to indicate at it. "Should we move this over there?"
Isla nodded, pushing herself up as she walked to sit at the table, Dick sitting opposite while you stood by her side. There was silence before you spoke, "So, Isla, Dick is just here to say.." you gestured your hand for him to takeover.
He sat upright, "Right, I promise you, I'm not gonna press charges or anything, no reason to, it was just a little conflict."
She hesitated in her chair, ".. Swear you're not gonna sue?"
"I won't! Swear it, I've gotten worse bruises from my— our" he quickly corrected, "brothers, hell even my sisters got hits on me, it's not a big deal."
But even with his words, but of you felt the uncertainty radiating off of Isla as she kept her eyes down onto her lap. The room grew strained with the growing silence, just as soon as you were going to speak and reassure Isla, Dick spoke.
He leaned onto the table, it wobbled a little but he didn't let that stop him as Isla relaxed at the familiar waver, glancing up a little.
".. y'know, back when Damian first got into the manor, he was aggressive with everyone—" you were going to point out how you were aware and had scars from that time, but didn't.
"— there was this one time right, he threw a baton at my head and I stumbled back, almost broke my neck too if it wasn't for the flip I did!" You winced, remembering that day because Bruce was pretty upset at the potential risk Dick was put in.
Dick noticed, a glint of mischief in his eyes. But he focused on Isla, she chuckled slightly and let herself loose a little, resting her forearms on the table with her beads rolling against it. It gave the room a layer of noise that was desperately needed.
"I still had to get checked though since it hit my head pretty hard for a baton that's usually light. Damian felt really bad about it to, except he didn't apologize right away, he locked himself in his room and eventually got the strength to apologize."
You didn't know that part of the story, having been apart from the vigilantism and all. But it made Damian seem a little more human to you instead of the boy who came into your house with the only intention of making you miserable. It wasn't that you thought he was all bad, you knew better than that to assume, still though, you were younger at the time.
"You're sort've the same, I think that you really didn't mean it, just like him, though you were much quicker to apologize than he was." He added, smiling that stupidly ardent grin, the one that made the manor home when you first got there before it became false.
"So I mean it, just a little knock of the head that I probably deserved, a lot." He finished with a glance to you, your eyes faltered to look at the ground.
Because this was one of the first times you ever got to personally hear about the endeavors and situations they'd been in. From big to small, it was always— 'later' 'don't wanna talk' 'busy' and markedly you never experienced them personally.
It was a sacrifice you didn't know you'd be making a couple years ago, the string that ties the family together. It's not name, not blood, not the manor everyone lived in at different times, it's the things you go through together.
Damian was right about the fact that you weren't a part of that, it made them closer than you ever think you could be to them. He was wrong about everything else though, you were sure about that.
You watched as Isla finally let out a breath, the kind that releases every anxiety you had inside your chest. The soft smile on her face that hit you with familiarity as she looked him in the eyes, "thank you.. please stay for dinner, I'm sure my mom won't mind."
Dick smiled, one side of the smile stretched a little more than the other, "I'd be honored."
Isla chuckled, "I'll go call my mom before she gets home, tell her we have another guest" she said, before standing up and leaving to her room.
You looked down at him as he stared at you, "not bad?"
There was a huff from you as you gently pushed his shoulder, "yeah, not bad Grayson."
"Grayson? Not even on a first name basis?" He said with a mimicry of a panicked voice.
"Not even first name! Make sure to text Alfred that we'll be staying here a little later, I forgot to tell him we left." You said before walking away.
"Got it!" He said, arm waved a little before lowering. It was the first time in a long time that you bantered like that, even if it was short.
Glancing out the window, he was ready to enjoy the rest of his night when out of the corner of his eye there was a little figure perched on the corner of a building. Didn't take a genius to figure out who it was.
But instead of making a big deal out of it, Dick pushed aside the task and looked at the streets below him as people bustled through the late day. After a couple of minutes, he looked back and noticed Damian had left.
At the same time, the front door opened to reveal a woman around Bruce's age, he watched as Isla ran out of her room and hugged the woman tightly. "Amma! This is Richard Grayson, he's the guest I told you about."
"Pleasure to meet you, do you enjoy masala dosa?" Before Dick could answer you replied for him.
"He'll eat whatever aunty, don't mind us."
You felt his eyes look at you when the word aunty left your mouth, keeping your eyes on Isla's mom, she grinned and gave you a side hug before walking to the kitchen. Isla took the time to drag you over to the couch where you had to gesture for Dick to come.
It was funny seeing the man who usually moved around so freely become tense in one of the warmest environments you knew. He sat on the farthest edge of the sofa, just shy of Oli's usual spot as Isla stuck close to you, her arms wrapped around yours to bring both of you into a hug.
You didn't mend your relationship entirely that night, but you shared a meal, a few laughs, some stories— like how you, Isla, and Oliver once got chased around the school library by a rat, or how he got Tim to sleep once by giving him warm milk instead of coffee, and how when Tim woke up he was 'so betrayed'.
And for once, he was a piece of the puzzle to your life, he fit into the life you'd made for yourself. As scary as that was, it was gratifying too.
─── ´ˎ˗
Damian stabbed at his food, refusing to answer anyone who asked about why he was so mad. Stephanie just laughed it off, Cass kept staring, Duke definitely stayed quiet after the last time he got a knife thrown at him, Tim was catching up on sleep thanks to Bruce's orders, and Bruce himself sat at the head of the table, minding his own business.
But Bruce wasn't going to ignore it any longer, so he chose to talk to Damian after dinner so no one else got involved like before.
He sat in the study, waiting for Damian to arrive having sent Alfred to get him. The fire crackled in front of him as he sat on the leather couch, one arm draped across the back of it.
Since that night he had stepped away, buried himself in one of the newest cases that wrapped up the night before— thanks to Tim working overtime which was why he forced him to sleep.
Suddenly the door creaked open, Damian appeared in the doorway as his figure took shape from the shadows. Bruce looked over at him before taking his arm off the back of the leather and patting the cushion beside him.
Damian slowly approached as he sat down with his arms crossed tightly to his chest. Eyes staring down into the crackling wood as it split in the fire, flakes of ash swirling amongst the flames.
The sound of the fireplace snipped at the silence in the room before Bruce cleared his throat, eyes now looking at his son, the controlled inferno contrasting against his skin, glowing.
".. Damian, tell me what's upset you so much."
"Father, that's a stupid question."
Bruce chuckled deeply before leaning forward to rest his forearms on his thighs, the heat tickling his face. "Humor me then."
Damian hesitated for a moment, then he raised his eyes to look up above the fireplaces mantle.
".. I don't like them very much." It didn't take a genius to know who he meant— though Bruce was one anyways. He let Damian continue without interruption.
"You're one of the most capable people I've ever met, someone who my mother considers worthy enough. That means leagues beyond any other standard! Your offspring should be the same, but instead of having a child that is as capable as you.. they're just—" he stopped to huff out annoyingly.
"They don't know what it's like to sacrifice so much. They're ungrateful, they have you as a father, us as a family, we are busy and they complain about how we didn't reach out, degrading us that night! It was insubordination!" He shouted, voice rising even hotter at the end with anger.
"We make them feel isolated, they cause a panic— it's their fault!"
"Damian." Bruce cut him off, he sighed and rubbed his face with his calloused hand, feeling the touch of his palms scratched against his skin. "It isn't anyone's fault, except mine."
"Father? How could you say such a thing?!"
"It's true Damian, I won't get into it but I'm still a father. I haven't been acting like it, you shouldn't fight with them over this."
Bruce, he knew a lot of what he had done wrong in the past, what he doesn't know, someone else has to tell him because they see what he hasn't. Truthfully, the only person who could help him fix things with you was, well— you.
"But-"
"Damian. Stop." Bruce's voice was heavy, the words like a gavel that left no room for arguments as it wordlessly slammed down.
".. yes father" he said, fist clenching into his sleeves before his arms fell to his side, Bruce nodded, eyes shutting for a few seconds before opening.
"Thank you.. now go to bed, you have school tomorrow and patrol after that." He said, his son stood up and shook his head forward before leaving, there was a tenseness radiating off of the boy, but he didn't know how to shed it.
Bruce partially collapsed against the couch and he rubbed at his face, fingers focused on pressing into his shut eyes. Taking a few peeks through his lids at the ceiling, he messed up with you, he messed up with his kids before, and he hated it every time.
─── ´ˎ˗
Dick left earlier, offering to take you home but you told him you'd still be staying with Isla. He was reluctant but agreed because there was no changing your mind as he walked out of the building, keys jingling in his pocket while you watched him fade into the now darkened streets of Gotham.
Isla hung on your shoulder, one foot off the ground as she used you as a support, watching Dick disappear. She hummed before pulling away, "y'know, I don't think I hate him as much anymore."
"Swear it? No more punching him?" You joked, both of you walking up the stairs, she punched your arm with zero strength and laughed.
"No promises! If he messes up again it's back to square one, okay!?" She pointed her finger in your face to further push her point while you snickered.
"Yeah yeah, I got it!" You replied as she pulled you up along up story by story, there was a weird feeling as you thought vaguely about the afternoon and evening. You got to know Dick as your brother for once, it was endearing, and there was a fraction of you that became tender for him.
No way would you forgive him yet, not after he was so ignorant to the way he hurt you in the past. But ignorance is a much of a sin as it is a mistake, and you aren't the kind of person to hold someone against a mistake.
But Damian? Tim? The things people choose to say and not accidentally do? It's different, you aren't family, you're throwing a tantrum— the thought made you want to punch a wall.
Yet you pushed it back, because as Isla led you into her apartment, home felt closer than before.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
I’ve been stress writing a little bit which is why this chapter is out so quickly. Just things in my personal life, they shouldn’t hinder or delay any chapters unless I happen to get writers block.
Thank you for reading, this likely has quite a few errors but as of posting this it is relatively late, will look over and edit later, thank you once again 🩶
unfortunately i dont think its queerbaiting if the creator is just so terminally heterosexual that they never remotely considered the same gender relationship their show is centered around could be read as romantic. it is deeply painful however.
By definition you can't accidentally queerbait. Queerbaiting is specifically using a same sex pair from the show to market the show to queer audiences with no intention of ever following through on a romantic relationship.
There is officially licensed Destiel merch signed off on by Kripke. Teen Wolf had a commercial with the actors for Derek and Stiles draped over each other talking about being "on a ship." Both shows actively used scenes between them as marketing while actively mocking fans for wanting them together. Sherlock has multiple characters refer to Johnlock as a couple, including characters we're supposed to believe are never wrong about human behavior and pushed those scenes in marketing. Then they acted insulted when fans saw them as a couple.
That's queerbaiting.
Done on accident it would just be queer subtext. Done because they had no other choice due to censorship is queer coding.
The specific meaning of the word is really starting to get lost and it's a pretty important one to keep accurate. It describes a very specific phenomenon that was done repeatedly and maliciously for decades and is meant to examine that specifically.
Doing it on accident sucks, but it isn't a tactic of capitalism intentionally intended to suppress queer representation while making money from queer fans.
I follow this lady on instagram who rescues cats, and i have been thinking about this video for literal months. behold the transformation of this wretched little beast
Just your annual heads up, Northern Ontario is actively on fire with little resources from the provincial government to combat them. Over 144 fires on record, you've seen the fire from Armstrong and another from Collins, but several First Nations along the corridor have lost their homes and have been displaced. Please keep them in mind this season as the fires have devastated their homes and displaced them, some were evacuated to Niagara where they face indiscriminate racism.
Please support some of the following (and please feel free to tag more)
Thunder Bay Community Pasture
Northern Reach Network
Both the Nokiiwin Tribal Council at 384 Fort William Road and the Superior Inn at 555 West Arthur Street in Thunder Bay are accepting donations for evacuees. They've posted that they're in dire need of baby and toddler supplies (especially diapers and formula) and cat and dog food and supplies. (X)
Apparently some people still need to hear this so: using an 'ai checker' is still using ai. If you are feeding someone's fic to one of these checkers, you will still not be sure their fic is ai because they are not 100% accurate, but you can be 100% sure that you are using ai. For fic. Furthermore you are doing the work of an ai scraper for them. You are, personally, feeding the machine. There is no actual excuse for using an ai checker on fanfic as a hobby. YOU are the problem.
If you think a fic is ai, mute it and move on. That's it. That's all you do.
every year small towns and indigenous communities across canada are burnt to nothing by horrific wildfires and americans go on the internet to complain about it and blame us bc the smoke has spread to their state. i’m so tired.
go yell at mark carney or your own local politicians about climate change and urge them to do more to stop it. the namaygoosisagagun first nation had their community destroyed today. you can find a link to donate to them here. donate to your local food bank. go to the beach next week when the smoke clears and you don’t have to think about it anymore while the people who’s lives have been destroyed will have to pick up the pieces and try to move forward when we are already in a huge cost of living crisis across the country.
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