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Damian: i remember when i first came to Gotham, how awe-struck i was by the power of Batman and his Robins; how badly i wished to live up to the mantle and make everybody believe in me and honour me as a part of the team,
Tim: *prompting hum*
Damian: …and then i met you all.
Tim:
Tim: and now?
Damian: i feel like there’s better things to do with life.
Tim, easily: yeah, going behind the scenes really takes that respect away, doesn’t it?
Damian: so you know what i mean?
Tim: oh yeah. when i first became Robin i adored Bruce and the concept of being Robin. thought it was magical. thought it was gonna be the best time of my life.
Damian: and then?
Tim: and then Bruce started getting on my fucking nerves.
Batfamily and Reader/Bruce Wayne x Reader
Chapters
Ao3
The Nanny Trap
Bruce was sitting in the living room, waiting for the younger kids to show him some cool little dance they had somehow managed to coordinate. Truthfully, he expected it to be a mess, but he was excited to see them working together. He had been pulled into the playroom and told to wait there nearly an hour ago. Just as he was about to get up, the door swung open, and you were dragged in by Tim.
“Tim, please slow down,” you laughed, but the boy wasn’t listening. He pushed you to sit next to Bruce. You landed with an 'omf', so close that your leg brushed against his.
“Wait here! We’re still working on it,” Tim said breathlessly.
You giggled. “Be quick. I’m not waiting here all day.”
Tim gave you a side-eye before running off. Once the playroom door swung closed, you turned to Bruce with a smile.
“What do you think they’re really up to?” You asked quietly, like you suspected the kids were listening in right outside the door.
Bruce sighed and ran his hand over his jaw. “No idea, and I won’t even try to guess.”
You crossed your legs, bobbing your foot a little impatiently as the clock on the wall ticked on. Neither of you had really had the time to speak properly in the past few weeks, and now that you did, neither of you could think of what to say. Bruce, unfortunately, wasn’t entirely there to make any sort of conversation. His eyes dragged up your bare legs, glancing at the little gap between your thighs and skirt, before stopping right at the outline of your bra that he could see under your shirt. Clearing his throat, he turned his head and looked away.
After a while, you sucked in a breath and randomly asked, “Have you heard from your friend Chris?”
The question threw him off at first. Bruce had hoped that you had forgotten who Chris even was. Not that it was bad that you remembered him—No, it was fine. But the thought of you maybe wanting to try again with him gave Bruce an uneasy, almost annoyed feeling. Something that felt a little too close to jealousy.
When he realized it had taken him too long to reply, Bruce responded, “He’s fine. He’s got a girlfriend.”
It was a lie. Chris was still the embarrassed, lonely man that he was before. Yet, the lie had slipped off his tongue before he could think about how shitty it was to get in the way of your love life. You deserved happiness, but Bruce didn’t want it to come from Chris of all the fucking people in the world. You were too confident for that.
“With your help?” You asked with a little smile.
He hummed. “Sort of.”
You smiled, nodding. “Poor guy.”
Bruce whipped his head around, finding your eyes sparkling with a coy kind of mischief. Teasing him again. If Bruce had a dollar for every time you managed to get under his skin—Well, he’d be richer than himself.
It fell silent between you again, and, for a good five minutes, the two of you simply enjoyed each other’s company. Bruce had leaned back further into the cushion of the couch, his arm stretching out on the back. With how close his hand was to the back of your neck, the urge to touch the soft skin there burned in his mind. He didn’t want to invade your personal space—what little was left of it anyway—but he wanted to taste a sliver of your skin against his.
He could easily do it and call it an accident. It would take all of three seconds to swipe his palm against the back of your neck, to hold you next to him briefly. Bruce felt disgusted with himself and subtly moved away from you.
“What makes you ask about Chris?” Bruce said to cut the silence.
You pursed your lips, thinking before giving him a casual shrug. “Don’t know, to be honest. Guess I was hoping he’d be single.”
Bruce almost offered to let you date one of his other friends, but the words stilled on his tongue. He didn’t want another man around his nanny or, inevitably, his kids.
“You’ll find someone, Nan,” Bruce said, trying to help. You looked up at him with a thick look of disbelief. Yeah, he found that reaction fair. “Well, I don’t know if this’ll help, but you’ll always have the kids and me.”
You stared up at him, your eyes softening. “It does, Bruce.”
Bruce leaned in, unable to hold himself back, but just as he was getting a little too close, the playroom door swung open. Tim strode in wearing one of Bruce’s oversized suit jackets, his shirt only half-buttoned and a towel draped dramatically over one arm. Behind him came Cassandra, carefully balancing two wine glasses.
Jason followed, clutching a half-unopened bottle of wine with both hands, while Duke shuffled in behind them, carrying a tray piled with cheese and crackers, casually eating half the plate as he walked.
You straightened, already smiling. “What’s all this?”
Cassandra lifted her chin with theatrical posh-ness. “Madam. Sir.” Her fake French accent was impressively terrible. “Your dinner.”
Duke was too busy stuffing a crack into his mouth to hear. After a second of awkward, quiet chewing, Jason leaned over and whispered, “That’s your cue.”
The boy blushed and quickly put the plate down onto the coffee table with a little clatter. A few bits of cheese rolled off, hitting your shoe and then the carpet. Duke hurriedly plucked the few pieces off the floor and stuck them back onto the plate.
You bit your lip, glancing toward Bruce to see if he’d noticed. He had, but he wasn’t looking at the cheese. He loved it when they did stupid shit like this. It reminded him that, despite everything they’d survived, they still got to be children.
“Now, the wine,” Cassie said proudly as she set down the glasses.
Jason stepped forward, struggling with the wine bottle before the cork popped out and the bottle began to tip down toward the carpet. Both you and Bruce jumped forward, straightening the bottle before any red could spill.
“Sorry, that was a lot harder than I thought,” Jason mumbled, cheeks pink.
You laughed breathlessly, putting the bottle onto the table before turning to the kids. “What’s the occasion?”
Dick, who had entered halfway through the spectacle, leaned against the back of the couch. He coolly said, “They thought you two deserved a romantic evening.”
“It’s noon,” Bruce said.
“Romantic?” You said.
The two of you turned toward each other, not sure what to do. Then, you took the bottle of red and poured a bit into the glasses on the table.
“Nan—”
You looked at him as you passed a glass, saying, “What? They went to all the trouble.”
Bruce stared at you for a second before sipping the wine as he looked back at the kids. It was no use to let a good wine go to waste. It was a bit of a sour taste, one of the cheap bottles that you kept in the fridge. It took everything in him not to spit it back in the glass.
You plucked a cube of cheese from the plate, pinching it between your fingers before holding it toward Bruce with a teasing smile. “Carpet cheese?”
“I’m good, thank you.” Bruce snickered, tipping his chin away before you could even think about pressing it against his lips. The corner of his mouth twitched despite himself.
You shrugged. “Your loss.” Casually, you set the piece of cheese back onto the plate.
Across the coffee table, the children stood shoulder to shoulder, practically vibrating with anticipation to see what happened next. Jason chewed on his bottom lip, Duke rocked back and forth on his heels, and Cassandra clasped her hands neatly behind her back, trying to hide the proud smile tugging at her lips. Even Tim, who usually couldn’t stay still for more than five seconds, stood frozen.
You smiled warmly at all of them. “Thank you, my loves. This is incredibly thoughtful.” Your eyes drifted over the haphazard spread of crackers, slightly squished cheese cubes, and the bottle of wine. “It’s wonderful.”
Bruce nodded in agreement. “It really is. Thank you.” His voice softened. “But Nan and I aren’t in a romantic relationship.”
“Yet.”
Both you and Bruce turned in unison. Dick hadn’t even bothered to look up from his Game Boy. He simply continued to play his game like nothing he said was shocking. Neither you nor Bruce could form a response.
“That’s what Alfred says, anyway,” He said, snapping the game shut. Dick grinned wider. “C’mon, guys. Let’s give the lovebirds some alone time.”
The younger kids immediately dissolved into giggles. Tim let out a loud 'Ooh' while Jason laughed into his hand. Duke nearly tripped over his own feet trying to follow everyone toward the door, eyes going between Bruce and the rest of his siblings. Cassandra couldn’t stop smiling, looking so incredibly happy at the outcome.
Once they were out of sight, they broke out into loud laughter that floated through the cracked-open playroom door. You twisted around on the couch, pointing after him. “I will take that Game Boy away, Richard Grayson!”
When no one responded, you plopped back down next to Bruce with a huff. The two of you shared a glance before dissolving into light laughter.
“I’ll go talk with Alfred,” Bruce said, starting to get up.
You put a hand on his forearm, dragging him back next to you. “Stay. Alfred’s not going anywhere.”
Bruce thought of protesting, but you were already passing his forgotten glass of wine back to him. When he took it, you picked up your own.
Holding the glass toward his, you smiled, “To our romantic evening, Mr. Wayne.”
Smiling, he clinked his glass against yours. “To our romantic evening, Nan.”
-> gn! reader, sorta? references to calorie counting and disordered eating, pls don't read if this is triggering for you <3
You first notice it when he packs your lunch for you.
You pull the granola bar out of your bag, wrapper crinkling in your hands, when you see the blots of black ink on the back of it. Furrowing your brows, you flip it over and notice that the numbers on the back—the nutritional values—have been completely obscured.
You shrug it off, unwrapping the bar nonetheless and eating it. It must have been an accident, or maybe he grabbed the wrong bar. That’s all.
It continues when you get home, when you pull a jar of pasta sauce out of the cupboard to make with dinner only to notice the same black scribbles on the back. Reaching for the box of pasta, it’s the same thing over again. Dark blots of ink, numbers completely obscured, no explanation.
“Jay?” You call, setting the box down on your counter. “Can you come here?”
Quiet footsteps come down the hall, Jason’s stride slow and steady as he makes it to the kitchen. He leans up against one of the counters, dark coloured sweatpants and baggy t-shirt wrinkling with the movement.
“What’s up?”
You hold up the jar of pasta sauce, spinning it so the label faces him. “Uh, is there something I’m missing here?”
He smiles, something knowing but equally innocent, something only he could pull off. He shrugs his broad shoulders, “no clue.”
He’s lying. You know he is, even if Jason was trained a long time ago not to give away his tells.
“Mhm,” you nod. “Sure.”
“Something wrong?”
You fix him with a look that you hope screams, ‘I know you’re full of shit.’
“Whatever,” you sigh, going back to making dinner.
You’re just putting a pot of water on the stove when he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He rests his head on your shoulder, messy hair tickling your neck.
“By the way,” he says, and you can feel him smirk against your skin. “Did you enjoy your lunch today?”
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thanks for reading & have a wonderful week /ᐠ > ˕ <マ ₊˚⊹♡
all i want for 2026 is that gigantic rancid AI bubble to finally burst in such a catastrophic way that the consequences will be so good and i'll never have to see another AI generated image ever again
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The kids know that Bruce is riddled with baby fever, 24/7, 365 so they have protocols in place to ensure Bruce isn't exposed to babies or small children longer than necessary. They steer him away from prams, direct him away from recently returned parents from maternity and paternity leave and plan walks through the city where they will not walk by a baby store because Bruce will be stuck making that stupid face at the little outfits and shoes. Bruce is a big butterball when it comes to babies and when the JL start building families around him, he's there waiting for his turn to hold the baby. The thing is, the kids aren't jealous or afraid that Bruce will have another baby, it's because Bruce gets so depressed afterwards. Bruce who never got to raise a baby of his own, who watches everybody around him holding their babies, who feels a twinge of pain in his chest every time he sees pictures of the kids as babies and toddlers and Bruce who misses every single moment he could have had with them. Bruce who gets so down that the kids worry about his mental state.
I hate that thing some people do where it's like. "I left my wallet on the table to see if you'd say anything" or "I wanted to see if you'd wash the car if I stopped doing it"
Cause like
I dont know about anyone else
But I am perpetually hovering three inches above the strong subconscious belief that everyone knows what they're doing at all times except me, so if you change your normal patterns and I notice, then I will assume it is an intentional choice with a thought-out plan behind it and I will avoid interfering
And if I don't notice, because I won't, because why would I, because not much bothers me and if you don't say anything to indicate you are bothered then how would I KNOW
A close friend of mine and I had a fight where she said she felt I only talked about myself and never asked about her, and I countered that when done speaking about myself I expected her to chime in with how SHE was feeling and doing and that I couldn’t know if she didn’t tell me. And we were both right (and now she will talk first and I’ll ask about her more).
warning: MDNI 18+, smut, fingering, french kiss, teasing, dirty talk, established relationship (married), no real plot
A/N: @bat1nsignia I finally finished writing this. I WAS IN HEAAAAAT!!!😩
The sharp crack of the cue ball echoes through the quiet billiard room.
Bruce watches another striped ball disappear into the corner pocket before calmly straightening to his full height.
“Your turn.”
You twirl your cue between your fingers, a smile tugging at your lips. “You sound awfully confident.”
“I have reason to be.”
“Hm.”
You stroll around the table until you find the perfect angle, deliberately taking your time. You bend over the felt, lining up your shot with exaggerated concentration.
You don’t miss the way the room falls quiet. Without looking up, your smile widens.
“You know,” You murmur. “staring is very inappropriate.”
Bruce doesn’t answer. Instead, he folds his arms across his chest. “You planning on taking the shot?”
“Maybe.” You glance at him over your shoulder, catching his lustful eyes on you before looking back at the table. “Or maybe I’m just seeing how long I can keep your attention.”
A beat passes before you continue, “It seems to be working.”
Bruce lets out the quietest huff of amusement. “You think that’s what’s happening?”
You stand, pretending to consider it. “No? Or is it?”
“No.” His gaze doesn’t leave yours. It’s still fixated on you. He slowly steps closer, stopping directly in front of you. “I already had my attention on you.”
For just a second, you forget about the game. Bruce stands dangerously close to you. You feel his hands rest on each side of your hips.
“That’s not very fair.” You barely whisper.
“Neither are you.”
His one hand now comes up to cup your face, his thumb anchoring your face now. Without wasting another second, his lips collide with yours with urgency of a dam breaking.
A heat flares through your chest, making your pulse hammer, and Bruce feels the blood rush down, causing his cock to grow painfully hard in his pants.
He coaxes your lips apart, the heat of his breath matching the rush of your pulse. The gentle sliding of your tongue against his was intoxicatingly sweet which causes him to let out a soft groan. He pushes you gently against the pool table, and presses himself between your legs.
You grip his collar, pulling him deeper into the kiss while still kissing passionately. His hand releases your face, and instead they slip into your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss any further.
There is a lingering hint of refined espresso that you could taste.
“Bruce, please.” You whine as you feel him pressing himself into you.
“I know sweetheart.” He grins because he knows exactly how much you need him.
He releases your hair and starts working on taking off your clothes, leaving you naked. With one sweep of his hand, he clears the table, and gently lays you down.
As if he wasn’t teasing you enough already, you feel the chalked cue stick tracing against the inner side of your exposed thigh.
“Please.”
“Don’t rush, Love.”
Bruce lets out a deep chuckle before he drops the cue stick on the floor. Setting himself between you legs again, he starts kissing you again. His one hand travels down your body and stops just above the slick heat.
Gently, he slides two of his fingers into your pussy. The touch causes you to gasp against his lips.
“So wet for me, fuuuuck.”
His fingers move in a slow, and teasing motion. As he finds the sensitive spot, he starts pressing with a little pressure. A soft moan escape from your lips, causing you to be unable to kiss him.
“Fuck. Bruce, I’m close.” You say as you feel the trembling release form in your lower stomach.
“Yeah? Already?” He replies, clearly making fun of you. “Cum on my fingers then.”
And you do as he says, cumming over his two fingers. As he removes his fingers out of your pussy. You let out a quiet whine at the empty feeling.
“You want it so bad, don’t you love?”
“Fuck yes, Bruce. Just fuck me already.”
“So bossy.” He chuckles.
He stands straight again, and his fingers are working on removing his belt around his waist. The, he removes his pants alongside his boxers. His big and hard cock springs free, causing you to let out a gasp.
Bruce clearly heard the gasp at which he shakes his head with a smirk on his face. “Nothing you’re not used to, baby.”
His rough hands spread your legs further apart, and places himself perfectly in front of your wet pussy.
“Take a deep breath.” He tells you, and you do. As soon as you inhale, you feel his big and veiny cock enter your slick pussy. You let out a wet moan at the feeling.
“Fuuuck.” He lets out a gasp as soon as he feels how tight you are around him, even though he stretched you out a few minutes ago.
Bruce stops for a second once he pushed his whole length into your cunt. His hands resting on your hips, and your hands are gently holding his wrists.
As soon as he feels you relax around him a little, he starts moving inside you. He starts picking up the speed after a few grinds, thrusting inside you now. You feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each thrust. The feeling makes your spine arch off the pool table.
“Yes- oh god, please don’t stop- fuck, just like that.”
You dig your nails into his wrists but it doesn’t bother him. Instead, it only makes him happy. Knowing that he is the reason why you’re a complete mess right now.
“You feel so hmph- good.” A ragged breath escapes him shortly after.
“Can you feel me hmph- in your stomach, baby?” He asks you, making you release one of his wrists. He takes your hands and presses it gently on your lower stomach, and you do feel his cock move inside your cunt.
But that is not the only thing you feel.
You feel yourself coming closer again, causing you to clench around him. Bruce notices. Of course he does.
“Wait baby, hold it in a little bit longer.”
“I need to cum, please.”
“I know, sweetheart. Just a little longer.”
You whimper softly.
Bruce thrusts inside you a few more times before he feels his balls start twitching.
“Let me cum inside you, hm?”
“Fuck- Yes, Bruce, yes!”
Bruce lets go completely, and cums inside your pussy. Filling you up with his release, threatening to spill out of you. A breathless gasp leaves your mouth.
You feel the shockwaves of pleasure wash over you, cumming hard enough to push his cock out of you a little.
“That’s my wife.” He says proudly, kissing your now sweaty forehead.
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alternatively, could we have an au where Jason has to be the one that delivers Damian to the manor in Gotham, and he gets so distracted with trying to make Damian's first trip outside the league enjoyable (road trip, theme parks, bunch of stop-offs along the way) that he completely forgets to set up his own place to stay in for after Damian's gone to the manor. and the two end up in front of the Wayne Manor driveway in the middle of the night arguing about it like
Damian: it's just a night or two, and it's not like Father doesn't have spare bedrooms available.
Jason: that's not the issue, the issue is that i don't want them to fucking know i'm here.
Damian: ok so i'll distract them and you can sneak in the back entrance.
Jason, flatly: you want me to sneak into my old house to spend the night, when everybody thinks i'm dead and i want it to stay that way?
Damian: i'm just saying that his long lost blood son showing up is a good distraction, and it IS a big manor. i'll bet you anything that i could keep you hidden in there for as long as you needed.
Jason: you fucking could not.
Damian: i could.
Jason: could not.
Damian: i could and i'll bet fifty dollars on it.
Jason:
Jason:
Jason: alright.
Damian ends up keeping Jason hidden in Bruce's own house like a kid trying to hide a puppy they found on the street in the back of their closet. he's sneaking Jason food and building him a little hidey-hole in the attic above his bedroom and literally nobody else in the manor has a single fucking clue. Jason already knows all the hidey-holes and secret passages from when he lived there anyway, so it turns out not to be as hard as he thought.
to be clear, he still becomes the Red Hood. he's not spending every second in the manor; he's sneaking in and out on a daily basis while he sets up a rulership in Crime Alley. it gets to the point where he fully has his own apartment that he could move into at any point, but he and Damian are being so stubborn about this bet that he's just staying at the manor anyway to prove that eventually they'll figure it out. plus it's starting to get really fucking funny because he's started playing ominous ghost sounds in the ceiling above Tim's room and the poor guy fully thinks he's being haunted by his predecessor's ghost. a fact which is almost correct.
the only thing that's frustrating the hell out of Jason is the fact that after every single interaction with the bats, no matter how exhausted he is from working all night, he has to watch Bruce drive the others right back home while he waits and then has to walk back by himself. eventually there's an arkham breakout and it's so bad that the bats are readily accepting Hood's help with dealing with it and it takes so fucking long to sort everything out that when it's finally over and they're ready to 'go their separate ways', Jason is so genuinely dead on his feet/in pain and need of sleep that he stops caring about everything. Bruce tells the bats to get in the batmobile and Jason just trudges over and slides in next to Tim.
everybody freezes and. straight does not know how to respond. Jason's just half-asleep already leaning his head against the window, and Bruce eventually has to clear his throat and ask like "...would you like a ride home, Hood?" and Jason just grunts.
"where do you live?"
"Wayne Manor," Jason mumbles, barely conscious. the bats all bluescreen apart from Damian who is so resigned to his big brother's idiocy at this point that he just tells them to take him back to the cave with them.
"just- just bring him. look at him. what trouble is he going to cause? he's tired, Father. let him rest."
Bruce is... so confused. and so concerned. but if Hood's injured then what harm is there in letting him get checked over and sleep the worst off in the batcave medical suite? he did help out a lot that night, after all. except when they get to the cave Bruce and Dick start preparing to carry the asleep Red Hood onto a medical bed when Damian just kicks him in the ribs and says 'we're home', and they watch in baffled fucking silence as Hood wakes up, blearily blinks while he takes in his surroundings, and then gets up to start trudging straight up and into the manor.
the others can do nothing but watch in quiet disbelief as Hood proceeds to go through the manor like he truly knows it, gets to Damian's bedroom, and then sleepily climbs up through a secret passage in the ceiling that, when Bruce pokes his head into, reveals a fully renovated bedroom filled with the Red Hood's gear and personal possessions. Hood flops down onto the bed and passes out immediately. Damian just bids Hood a good night and calmly closes the opening behind him, before turning to face the incredulous faces of his entire family staring at him like he's a fucking alien. he narrows his eyes.
"we will talk about it. tomorrow."
"Damian-"
"we are all tired." Damian determines. "for now, let him sleep."
"IN OUR HOUSE-"
"WE WILL DISCUSS THIS TOMORROW."
the next morning Jason wakes up at like. noon. and remembers the night before. and he crawls down into Damian's room to nudge him awake and firmly tell him 'i am not giving you fifty dollars'.
the ensuing argument wakes up the rest of the family.
canonically we know that Jason went to heaven when he died SO WHAT IF!!!!! what if jason meets reader in heaven because she died for like 3 minutes or something because she got into an accident and when jason comes back, he can't seem to get her out of his mind at all and then through PURE COINCIDENCE he sees reader again and it's literally a match made in heaven !!!! cue love !!! meet cute in heaven!!! Aahhhh!!!
“how to recognize AI in fanfic” — hey so this is another not-gentle reminder that AI stole from us. it’s using OUR words and OUR sentences and OUR styles.
writing “long” paragraphs is not a sign of AI — it’s a common narrative choice many writers make both in fanfiction and in traditionally published novels, and AI stole it from us.
using an em dash is not a sign of AI. it’s a stylistic sentence choice that’s been an option in place of commas and semicolons for a very long time, and AI stole it from us.
long sentence structures are not a sign of AI, but are yet another stylistic choice writers often make to create a cadence and tone that mimics the flow of poetry, and AI stole it from us.
“YA narrative breaks”? i don’t even know what the fuck this means, but i can guarantee that AI stole it from us.
italics are once again a stylistic choice that many writers love to use to create emphasis, and it’s a more stylistically acceptable and traditional form of emphasis than bold or underline text. oh, and just to be extra clear: AI STOLE IT FROM US.
stop creating fandom witch hunts over AI when you know fuck all about what it means to sit and write a story, and to spend hours fiddling with sentence structure and dialogue to get the exact right tone. writers will stop writing out of fear that their work “sounds like AI” — IT DOESNT! AI STOLE FROM US! AI SOUNDS LIKE US! — and after a while, all that will be available on AO3 is shitty AI-generated fanfiction.
because yeah, people are going to continue to use AI to write fanfiction whether you “call them out” or not. but making a laughable thread on X that uses asinine criteria is not going to fix that problem. it will just push the real writers out because people will accuse them of using AI when they haven’t, and they will (rightfully) stop writing for spaces that attack them.
There was a big sweep on ao3 when ai first was really becoming available to the public and they released a thing telling you how to find out if your works were copped and used in training AI— all of my works were stolen. I was angry and devastated. I’ve poured so much of my life into writing and improving my skill. Someone in the Blue Lock fandom insisted to me that no one real ever uses the word ‘Dapper’, and that it was strictly a word AI uses. Because of these things I’ve deduced the illiteracy crisis we’re facing is also abetting to the AI Witch hunt that fanfic authors are experiencing.
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