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Once Upon a Time 22

So I’ve had this in my drafts a while. Oops.

Some quick FAQs:

* this isn’t on ao3. Yet. It won’t be until it’s finished enough for me to be happy with the story. This is essentially proof of concept/rough drafting. Characterization is still an ongoing issue with this imo and I wanna do these boys and their families justice

* there isn’t a master post as this is currently the only ongoing fic I’m posting here, but the most recent chapter will be pinned to my blog like a master post would be.

And a final note: I love love love seeing comments, likes and reblogs! Even if you’re keysmashing at me, it keeps the dopamine flowing and reminds me this thing exists

Without further ado, chapter 22 (hey that rhymed!)

All in all, for a patrol that started suddenly and sort of pear shaped, Jason considered this one of his more successful Bat-reunions.

His guys had been, unbeknownst to Bruce, working an arms deal with Penguin. Then when his guys were on the way to the meet, Sionis got involved, bringing Bruce lurking and blowing his deal to shit.

#writing #fanfiction #dc x dp #danny fenton #dpxdc #jason todd #red hood #danny phantom #batfam #dead on main

pangur-and-grim

I feel so insane about ai. I've had face-to-face conversations with people who use it for therapy, who use it to calculate the safety of pill interactions, who use it for all their emails and grant applications and legal documents and academic papers and finance sheets and for every single question they have about the world, and if you tell them about the ecological costs they just laugh and say "I guess I've used a lot of water." and I've been in multiple gatherings of 10+ people where I'm THE ONLY PERSON who doesn't use chatgpt. it's turning me into a ranting raving pariah, because how don't you people see??? why don't you understand??????? this bullshit didn't exist five years ago, you absolutely do not need it, and it is destroying everything

spirkkock

my friend just had an art show and they were communicating with the gallerist over email. They could clearly tell that the gallerist was using AI to respond to their emails, but just rolled their eyes and moved on.

and then on the day of the show, my friend asks, "where is the camera I requested?"

gallerist: "you didn't request a camera"

my friend: "I did, and you confirmed that you would have one here."

gallerist: "that isn't true."

and then she proceeded to pull up the email thread, and my friend could see that every single email they had sent had been summarized by AI, and that the gallerist had then had AI write a response to them based on the AI summary, and that the AI had detected that they needed a camera, and confirmed on behalf of the gallerist that they would bring a camera, but because the gallerist had offloaded the work of actually reading and responding, she simply hadn't actually made any note of it herself, therefore didn't bring it, nor did she even know one was needed.

so my friend had done all of this communication about their needs and expectations to be able to make the show possible, and the person whose job it was to read that information and get it done had simply.... not read the information and not done it. because AI.

oneheadtoanother

cosmicanger

graphix artiste

birdandmoon

Pigeon milk.

Mailing list | Patreon

palant1r

the virgin loss.jpg versus the chad xkcd Seven Years

palant1r

ms-demeanor

a-real-human-person-not-fake

Don’t forget the latest version, Ten Years

a-real-human-person-not-fake

@vividaway Randall Munroe is an internet cartoonist who runs the ‘xkcd’ online comic series, which has run from 2006 up to today, with new comics every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Xkcd isn’t an ongoing story, just a series of funny, wholesome, depressing, or oddly scientifically informative comics.

In 2010, Randall’s fiance was diagnosed with stage III breast cancer. He didn’t share too many details at first, but things tended to bleed into his comics: sometimes funny, sometimes sad.

Often in this time, other cartoonists would write in guest comics for Randall, or he’d put in short filler pieces, to try and fill space while nonstop cancer treatments took up most of his time.

In 2012, he posted a comic called ‘Two Years’, about the time since the diagnosis. It’s the one that hasn’t yet been posted here (although parts of it are included in the other comics), and it commemorates some of the things that had happened in the two years since the diagnosis.

There are representations of Randall and his fiance being together for her treatment, worrying together, traveling the world, and getting married. It’s still depressing, but it’s a lot more hopeful, showing how they’ve still managed to have happy moments together, and things will still get better.

Themes of cancer continued in xkcd, but they increasingly became less about fear and nihilism, and more about hope, or just cool facts related to cancer.

At the top of this post is the comic posted in 2017: Seven Years. In it, Randall and his wife are traveling more, trying to have fun and continue old and new hobbies, with cancer ever-present in the background of it all. At the end, the two of them observe the 2017 solar eclipse, and despite all the uncertainty that comes with the thought of another seven years, agree to watch the 2024 eclipse together too.

There are just about no cancer comics between that one and the most recent comic, the one I posted: Ten Years, written in 2020. It’s by far the most hopeful of the three in the little series: the two of them are happy, they’re playing with rabbits and riding on handcarts and going out hiking and stargazing, together. At the end, Ten Years breaks the format with a conversation in which they talk about how unbelievable it is that it’s been so long, and share their worries as well as their hopes. It even ends on a much more lighthearted joke about immortality.

It’s a good comic. Definitely in my top two comics wherein internet cartoonists express emotions about an illness suffered by their wife.

“The ten-year cancerversary is traditionally the Cursed Artifact Granting Immortality anniversary.” -Randall Munroe.

a-real-human-person-not-fake

And now, at long last, Fifteen Years:

ms-demeanor

The first time I reblogged this it was three years after large bastard's heart attack and quad bypass and one year after his transplant.

Now it has been five years since his transplant, and seven years since his bypass.

We went to see the eclipses and drove to see the aurora too.

lostxanadu

the thing about being bullied for being weird as a kid is that even if you've always embraced being weird your brain is still always looking for the line where it's too much. you can be as proudly and intentionally weird as you want and you can love being weird but your mind is still convinced there's a point where you get too weird and people start treating you like a weird looking bug again. also it feels like you reach that point 500 times a day even if everyone you've spoken to today found you pleasant and likable and even if you're completely alone in your house with nobody looking at you at all.

vaspider

"Underlying conditions." That's what killed them. Not the virus, not the measles, not the tainted lettuce. Underlying conditions.

don't be afraid. don't be afraid. go to work. go out to eat. don't be afraid.

They weren't killed by the slashing of the CDC. They weren't killed by the administration's demonization of masks, that brought on by the vanity of one man who didn't want his bronzer to come off. They weren't killed by an industrial food system which will only do things Right if it's forced to, if it's inspected and made to, and over which there are far fewer watchdogs than there used to be. No! Don't worry. They were killed by underlying conditions.

don't be afraid. don't be afraid. the engines must keep running. don't be afraid.

Don't think about the fact that 12% of the population, or just about the same percentage of the population that marked themselves as Black on the 2020 Census, has diabetes. Don't think about the fact that 10% of the US population, or approximately the same percentage which has blue eyes, has at least one autoimmune disease. Don't think about the fact that 6% of the adult US population, or approximately the same percentage as 'people under the age of five', has a chronic heart condition. Don't think about the fact that the CDC says that 40% of the US population is obese, and that is an "underlying condition," too. That percentage? It's about the same as every US resident between the ages of 25 and 54.

don't be afraid. don't be afraid.

"Underlying conditions" is a way to wave away responsibility, yes, but it's more than that. It's a way to put separation between the average citizen and the two people -- so far -- who have died from food infested with parasites, the two people who literally shit themselves to death because the Trump administration has fully abandoned all of its proper functions in order to strip down everything it can get its hands on and cart it away for itself. It is not enough to grift billions through American Liberty World Financial Bitcoin, Gold Shoe, And Bible-Printing Emporium. It is not enough to set up a literal "please bribe the President" ATM for foreign governments to shovel cash in via cryptocurrency. They have to grab everything they can that isn't nailed down, and to do that, they have to rip everything they can out of the walls, fire everybody they can get away with, and shuffle the money into ICE, and from their into the pockets of friends no-bid contracts.

It is not enough, and so they whisper "underlying conditions," because that tells so many Americans, "Hey. Don't be afraid. It's okay. You don't have 'underlying conditions,' right? You are good and virtuous. You have done Everything Right, and are thus blessed with Good Health. You have Worked Hard and Been Proper and thus you will not be touched by the seemingly-random hand of fucking death hiding in a bag of Kroger lettuce." It's the same voice that says, "You don't want those layabouts getting disability and cheating you out of your money, so we should make it harder," except now it's saying, "Actually, just like COVID, the only people who died were the people who were sick already, and obviously you only have underlying conditions if you weren't taking care of yourself, which you are, so don't worry! We don't actually have to do anything. This will sort itself out."

don't be afraid. don't be afraid. after all, it's not you. it's them.

vaspider

#you have done Everything Right and are thus blessed with Good Health #is just prosperity gospel is just predestination

So I cut my hair and dyed parts of it over the summer. And I know my students and coworkers are gonna ask why I cut my hair.

My brain helpfully supplied “we could say ‘it was my hair or my throat’ :D “

And just. Nooooo. It wasn’t true, in the slightest. Brain why????

#Hot plus hair on neck equals ick.

captain-price-returns

The difference between "There used to be hot summers too,” and a climate crisis.

propheticfire

Look, we all know this is true. But there isn't a SOURCE for this, and the graph itself is basically illegible beyond "ooh colors". If we want to be good stewards of our informational resources, we need to cite our sources.

From a reverse image search, I found the website Show Your Stripes, run by the University of Reading in the UK, which is likely where the above graph originated. It provides temperature data for various regions of the world from approximately 1900-2025. For example, here are graphs for Canada, India, and Papua New Guinea:

All clearly show a sharp rise in temperature beginning around approximately the 1980s, which corresponds with the graph in OP's post. But now we know where this data came from, and we can verify its validity accordingly.

red-garden

MAGA boomers SHOCKED by 20y/o commie speaking fluent hog

red-garden

Hog 201 for anyone interested in trying this:

Bodily autonomy (like abortion, anti draft, etc) -> “The government shouldn’t be able to force anything on my body I don’t want.”

Anti surveillance -> “I don’t trust big government/big tech (big brother if you’re feeling frisky) with the ability to spy on me and my family.”

Immigration -> “Next to all of us immigrated at some point, I don’t see why the elites get to decide who’s allowed to be where. What’s to stop them coming for me?”

Climate Change -> “Big oil shouldn’t get to determine whether or not I get to go places. I don’t want to be dependent on some big business to survive.”

State Violence -> “I don’t want the goddamn secret police breathing down my neck! I trust my community a whole hell of a lot more to help me than I do the state!”

The vast majority of conservatives think of themselves as underdogs being repressed by the government/the elite, and they value personal freedom (specifically their personal freedom, they don’t care about other people). The will almost always agree with leftist points if you can find a way to blame the problem on their vague enemies (useful, since rich people are the root of most problems), and tie it back to their ability to say fuck everyone else. NEVER appeal to science, theory, logic, or human goodness. Make it seem as if you are a paranoid lunatic who trusts no one. They love it.

dinosaurjam

#you need to tailor your arguments to people's existing values and priorities if you want to convince them #the flip side is that it's every bit as easy to tailor conservative arguments to convince a leftist audience #so don't get smug #you're not immune to this either <- prev extremely true

absolutewifey

Do You Wipe Your Ass Every Time You Poop

Yes. 100% of the time. Provided there is toilet paper available.

No. Not 100% of the time. If toilet paper is available I sometimes choose not to

Voting ended onAug 14

I just learned something I find absolutely disgusting about my boyfriend and I am fucking nauseous about it but need to get him peer reviewed before I completely loose my mind because I am so afraid of over reacting.

godpup

HEY CAN EVERYONE TELL SHEILA THAT THIS IS NOT AN OVERREACTION AND THAT THIS IS INSANE AND YOU NEED TO LEAVE HIM YESTERDAY

ivy-michaels

GIRL, DUMP HIM

loth-caatgirl

GIRL KILL HIM

iwilleatyourenglish

girl do not be guilt tripped by a man mudbutting through god's green earth

ganymedeshouse

My pinknose

senatortedcruz

authorkims

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thoughtsformtheuniverse

[image id:

a tweet from Fairy Tale Fragments that reads: Once upon a time, there was a blacksmith who had a glass slipper.

a tweet thread in a series of images from Olivia Waite

I already love him. Hands so used to metal and sandpaper, and here is this fragile, delicate thing. He balances it between the calluses of his fingertips, turning it back and forth, watching it turn firelight into rainbows.

But it’s only one of a pair.

He goes to everyone in the village, asking: is this yours? Some laugh, some sneer. A few try it on, but it’s always too big or too small.

Finally, someone tells him a name, and points to a house a little ways into the wood.

Someone strange lives here, they’ve always said. A witch, copper f skin, who prays to foreign gods. But the blacksmith respects copper. He knocks on the door.

The witch answers. Firelight limns her. Her arms are bare, as muscular as his. Silently he holds up the slipper.

“Ah,” says the witch. Is that a flash of sadness in her dark eyes? He hopes not. He can’t keep his eyes off the line of her mouth, the proud tilt of her nose. He wishes he’d changed out of his work clothes.

“Come with me,” she says.

She takes him through a door and into a workshop, bigger than his own and full of different smells. she hands him a metal pole and says, “ Turn this until I say stop.” One the end is a glowing orb, liquid and searing hot.

His skin prickles.

But he’s a blacksmith. He’s not afraid of the heat. He spins the metal rod at her command, back and forth, while she works the hot glass with spades and paddles and surfaces he doesn’t recognize.

Slowly, a shape forms.

Much later, they clip the glass from the rod into the witch’s waiting hands. “It needs to cool until morning,” she says, as she places it into the cupboard.

The blacksmith pulls out the other one, and sets it on the shelf beside its mate.

The witch’s long mouth twists. “If you’re looking for who could wear that, I can’t help you,” she says.

The blacksmith snorts. “Wear this? It’s a bauble. I was looking for who could make it. Something familiar, yet beautiful. Magical, yet ordinary.”

The witch looks him up and down. “I could teach you how.”

“You could – but what I want is not knowledge. It’s just…” He shifts. He’s not good with words. “I want to find someone who thinks of beauty like this. Who is strong, but careful. Who knows about fire, and fragile things.”

The witch looked at him a long, long time. “I want the same,” she said.

The blacksmith smiled. “Then I’d love to ask your name.”

Decades later, her name was carved beside his, on a single stone. Beneath it, a pair of slippers, ribbons wrapping them together.

end id.]