“Where the hell are you? Shit, Sam. This silent treatment bullshit has gone on long enough…I don’t know what I did, all right. Whatever it was, I’m sorry. Okay? Are you listening? I’m sorry. But don’t do this right now. I need you… Sam, call me back. This week has been… I don’t even know. She cheated on me. Tiffany. I caught her half naked with some football prick. He was still fucking inside of her when I walked in. Can you believe that shit? She swears she’s sorry, but I just… What the fuck? Why the hell aren’t you answering? Fuck! I need you tonight, all right? Call me back. I just need to hear your voice.”
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i refuse to believe that boycotting is hard. my favourite thing in the world is ordering maccies after a late night at work/a concert/getting drunk. yes i do miss it sometimes. but the other night i ordered from a small place near my house instead and it was the most orgasmic burger i've ever had in my life. i very rarely say this but fucking suck it up people are DEAD
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i genuinely don't care how good a piece of ai generated art or writing looks on the surface. i don't care if it emulates brush strokes and metaphor in a way indistinguishable from those created by a person.
it is not the product of thoughtful creation. it offers no insights into the creator's life or viewpoint. it has no connection to a moment in time or a place or an attitude. it has no perspective. it has no value.
it's empty, it's hollow, and it exists only to generate clicks (and by extension, ad revenue.)
it's just another revolting symptom of the disease that is late stage capitalism, and it fucking sucks.
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Pre-dating, Tim or Bernard not knowing the other isn’t straight
Tim, leaning over to look at Bernard’s phone as they chill in Tim’s bedroom: whatcha doing?
Bernard: imma send Red Robin subtle messages until I trick him into admitting he’s into guys so I can sleep with him
Tim, bi panic, blushing: you’re what?
Bernard, typing out a message on his phone: here how does this sound Tim, ‘gay af to be a detective, what are you inspecting, other men??’, sound subtle enough?
Tim, too dumbfounded to speak:
Bernard: yeah you’re right, it’s perfect, imma send it
*Tims phone goes off, and then both watch it light up, Bernard seeing the message he just sent*
Tim, picking up his phone, typing, and sending a message without saying anything, face nearly bright red as he glances over at Bernard, who is staring at him wide eyed not saying anything
Bernard, looking down at the text Tim sent him back as Red Robin that says, ‘I like you, let’s fuck’:
Bernard: hey Tim I have a couple of questions
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Prompt 162
“So,” Danny drawled from where he was sitting, legs kicking slightly. Really, what a fun reincarnation. A world with heroes and villains where he didn’t have to do shit in and could just vibe with Ellie.
“So,” Tim responded from where he was typing on his computer, mostly in civilian clothes save for his gauntlets and boots. The Red Robin outfit was haphazardly dropped across the couch and his pole leaning against the end.
“Technically there’s proper procedures for clones…” Danny motioned to both himself and Ellie from where they sat on the counter, snacking on a plateful of scones. From Alfred, he was certain.
“Technically, yes… but do we want to actually do that?”
All three of them smiled, something almost feral in the motion. Of course not. They all had the same memories after all, and Bruce had just returned from the past, from exactly where and when Tim had said he was. Despite no one believing him, hence why they were in his boathouse, and not in the apartment or manor.
“Think we can pull it off?” Ellie took a sip of tea, mischief swirling in her eyes.
“Of course we can.” Both Danny and Tim spoke at once, one pulling up a new doc and the other pulling the whiteboard out from under a curtain.
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i absolutely cannot believe people are trying to start discourse about whether nex benedict was actually nonbinary / whether it was okay for him to describe himself as nonbinary to some people if he didn’t actually identify that way as if he isn’t literally DEAD because he was KILLED. this is a MURDERED CHILD and these monsters are so busy getting mad at the possibility that he might have been a trans boy who described himself as nonbinary to his family because that was easier for them to take that they’re turning a CHILD who was MURDERED into fucking discourse. even when we die at the hands of cis people’s violence, our own community finds a way to make us the villains of the story.
and all of this bullshit on top of the ways that cis people are already trying to say our grief over his death is unjustified. all of this on top of people claiming he wasn’t murdered and speculating on other causes of death (i literally saw someone say he “clearly went home and took the coward’s way out” and i have never been more disgusted) or claiming that he started the fight as if any action on his part could’ve been enough to justify his death. i am haunted by the sound of his father screaming that his child was not filth because that is what people have been saying about this poor kid, that’s how cruelly his memory is being treated, and even the trans community can’t get it’s shit together enough to look past the stupid discourse and see the tragedy in front of us. did you all forget that it was supposed to be up to us to grieve him in the way he deserves when the rest of the world fails to care if people like him live or die? did you all forget that this child was our sibling, the future of our community, a life that we should have had the chance to know and treasure while he was still here but that we now have a responsibility to hold close to our hearts in his absence? nex’s life was precious and it was ended far too soon and if you truly believe that anything is more important than mourning his life and fighting for a world where no more trans people have to meet such an awful fate, you’re a traitor to this community and you do not deserve the place you occupy within it.
i’m so tired. i can’t even imagine how tired his family must be, to see the public treat the child they’re grieving so horribly, to see the world fail their baby again. leave him alone. he was already robbed of peace in life; the least you can do is let him finally have it in death.
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