I can't think about anything other than the batfam rn, enter at your own risk.
also follow my cosplay instagram I guess: https://www.instagram.com/cosmic_aku/
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Or, a look into the first and most recent argument Bruce Wayne has had with each of his sons.
Each of his sons had given Bruce his fair share of grey hairs, from arguments and other things alike. This is simply a look into a handful of times he and his boys disagreed.
Alternatively titled: batblob and his arguing boys
Bruce still remembers the day of his first argument with Dick.
It was three months, to the day, that his parents had died. Dick was still only legally his ward, and Bruce distinctly remembered being twenty-five and feeling more like a fish out of water every day.
When he thinks back on it now, he can almost laugh.
At the time, though? He could feel his heart breaking and the world coming down around him.
Dick had been training with him for about a month, after quickly figuring out his secret and demanding that he be allowed to help.
On this particular day, Bruce had planned to take a day off from everything and take Dick and Alfred out for a day trip to Metropolis to see a museum that was freshly opened up, watch a ball game, and grab a nice dinner before heading back to Gotham for a rare quiet night in.
At breakfast he shared his ideas with his small family, expecting a cheer of excitement and perhaps even a nod of approval from Alfred.
Instead, Dick threw down the spoon he was mid-bite with, and glared at Bruce.
“Chum, what's wrong?”
Dick, pointedly, didn’t answer.
Bruce put down his own spoon, still holding a mouthful of oatmeal, and turned to face Dick. He didn’t have much experience with children, but he did remember that, when he was Dick’s age, sometimes all they needed was space to speak their mind.
Dick was only a year older than Bruce himself was when he lost his parents. According to Leslie, they were in a very similar mind-set, developmentally. Bruce remembered being that kid.
This was something Bruce had already been planning to bring up to custody lawyers when the opportunity arose.
Either way, it meant that he knew sometimes it was less about what you said, and more about what you didn’t. So, he waited.
He watched as Dick’s eyes brimmed with tears, his face grew red and splotchy, and as his breaths were coming out as hiccups.
Bruce was on the verge of panic.
(Who was he kidding? His son was about to cry, he was ready to do anything to make it better.)
Just as Bruce’s resolve was about to break and he was going to ask Dick what was wrong again when a loud outburst cut in first.
“You’re the worst!” Dick shouted, apropos of nothing.
Bruce, heart breaking and mind whirring, was about to try speaking again when his son’s yell cut him off once more.
“You’re just like the rest of them! You don’t care about your promises! You’ll-” Dick heaved in a big breath before he could continue, “You’ll never be my dad!”
With that, he stomped off, taking a large piece of Bruce with him.
Bruce immediately stood, planning to go after him and beg for forgiveness, despite the fact that he didn’t really know what he would be asking for.
Alfred’s gentle hand on his as it braced against the breakfast table gave him pause.
Alfred shook his head, ever so slightly, with the look of a man who had seen it all before. “Give him just a few moments. Long enough for both of you to catch your breath, hmm?”
Bruce hadn’t even realized how erratic his own breathing had grown. He took a moment to implement his recently learned techniques to calm himself and his pounding heart rate.
Once his breathing was back in order, Bruce counted to sixty-three before his resolve broke and he had to go find his son.
He was prepared to head into the small and soon to be redone acrobatics gym he quickly pulled together when he was granted full-time care of Dick.
Again, it was Alfred who gave him pause. “I’d recommend checking his room.”
Bruce didn’t question the man, rather he changed his course and went up to Dick’s room, settled in next to his own.
He blew out a silent breath before knocking on the door.
“I don’t want to speak with you.”
Good to know Alfred’s lessons of grammar were sticking.
“Dick? Can I come in? You don’t have to speak with me.” As much as it pained him, if Dick said no, he wouldn’t enter the boy’s room.
He heard a heaved out sigh through the door and then, after a long moment, the door opened just a sliver. Bruce wanted to enter, but he didn’t want to push his luck so he settled for standing in the open doorway, feet barely over the threshold.
He still hadn’t figured out what promise he had broken, or what exactly it was that had Dick so upset, but he did know how to handle some of what Dick had thrown at him.
“There was a long time where I didn’t trust Alfred, did you know that?” He started, gentle as he could get his voice to be.
He could tell Dick was listening, one mention of his beloved Alfie and Bruce knew he would.
Bruce cleared his throat and continued. “Yeah, for years no matter what he would do or say, it was wrong. And, I didn’t know about this until pretty recently, but he specifically didn’t bring up the option of adopting me legally because he felt like it would only make me angrier.”
That was a huge weight off of Bruce’s shoulders as an adult. There was a quiet voice in the back of his mind that told him Alfred never really wanted to be around, especially as he reflected on what his childhood consisted of.
Hearing about the day he nearly left, but instead decided to stay and dedicate his life to what Thomas and Martha left behind paved the way for Bruce to get Dick.
He thinks that without that knowledge, he wouldn't have been brave enough to step in for Dick.
Bruce let out a sigh, “Now, I can’t offer you the same thing.” He watched Dick’s shoulders tense. “Alfred was listed as my parents' remaining family in their will. He was legally recognized as my guardian whether he adopted me or not.”
Bruce looked down at his hands, doing his best not to twist them together like he often did when he was Dick’s age. “Unless there’s someone else you’d rather be with, when the offer of adopting you becomes available, I have to take it. I can’t- If I don’t there will be a chance someone could take you away from me and Alfie.”
Bruce paused to gather his thoughts.
He wished he could step into the room, he desperately wanted to give Dick’s shaking shoulders a tight hug until whatever was running through his brilliant brain was silenced.
“I know I could never replace your dad. Despite everything Alfred has done for me after all these years, I still think of my dad every day. I don’t want you to feel like I’m trying to step into a space that’s not for me. But I also can’t fathom losing you.”
He had only been taking full care of the boy for a bit over two months, what with all of the legalities after Dick’s parents’ deaths, but he couldn’t imagine a world without him now.
When Dick still didn’t say anything, Bruce offered him a weak smile. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry. I want to make sure you are happy here, as best as I can. For now, I’ll leave you be, okay? But I promise, I’ll be in my study or the library if you need anything.”
Dick still didn’t answer.
“I’m nearby if you want me, Chum.”
Bruce let the door softly click shut behind him. He made his way into his study, letting the thick wood block him off from the rest of the world, before he let out a deep sigh.
Bruce valiantly tried to focus on some items for Wayne Enterprises he needed to finish. For the life of him, he couldn’t focus on anything but the way Dick’s face turned red as his eyes welled with tears.
After what could have been a mere few minutes or a distraught few hours, Alfred came in with a cup of iced coffee.
Bruce looked at him, eyes full of a hope Alfred thought was long since gone. Which made it even harder to shake his head and let Bruce know there was still no sign of his boy coming out of his room.
Bruce slumped into his chair.
“You mustn't lose heart, you yourself were known for quite the silent treatment when you felt the need for it.” Alfred tried.
Bruce sighed again, “I know… I just hate being on the other end of it now.”
Alfred gave his charge a sad smile. “Being a parent requires that you take the good with the bad. As much as it pains you.” He spoke with two decades of experience under his belt.
In the end, it was a few strenuous hours of the silent treatment before a timid request to reschedule their day.
Bruce smiled and had Dick help him pick out what day they would go.
(A few years, and many more arguments, late, and Dick told him the promise he was so upset about.
“B, you called it a family day. You asked if I’d be interested in going out on a “family adventure” to Metropolis. And… Well, my first reaction was to be excited. Then I got upset with myself for discounting my parents so quickly… It really devolved from there.”
He simply pulled his oldest son in for a hug and decided he could shelve it as a cute memory.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As much as people assumed about Jason, they were most often wrong when they concluded he had been an argumentative Robin.
Bruce knew they had gotten into it their fair share of times, but compared to Dick, little Jason was practically a diplomat.
used to live in a college town that was huge on sports. 80% of small talk was sportsball and so i developed an Evil Habit: whenever the conversation inevitably turned to the upcoming Big Game i would act excited and then confused. I would earnestly insist they had the details wrong. "the game next Saturday? don't you mean the Thursday after? playing against the [predator species]? no we're playing against the [other predator species]." And so on. i would draw this argument out for as long as feasibly possible, until eventually someone would pull out their phone to prove to me my wrongness. At which point I would squint exaggerated at the screen, slap my forehead in an eureka moment, and exclaim "oh you meant the MEN'S team!!! are they doing a game? that's nice."
#i have the rare joy of living in an area where the college team people care most about is women #but that also makes interacting with anyone not from here on the subject feel very odd #like wdym you only watch the men’s version of the sport. wdym you treat that as the default?? we root for our girls here
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TIL “Yankee Doodle” was written by the British to mock americans. “Doodle” is thought to come from the German “dödel”, meaning “fool” or “simpleton” and “macaroni,” a flamboyantly stylish type of dress, painting the Yankees as morons who thought placing a feather in one’s cap made them a “dandy.”
I explained the concept of "blorbo from my shows" to my 71 year old immigrant grandfather because I referenced it in passing and I thought nothing of it, until today when he said "I think I'll watch peaky blinders tonight and see my blorbo from my shows" referring, of course, to Cillian Murphy playing Tommy Shelby
English isn't his first language so he's not super in touch with modern slang, so I've been accidentally teaching him to talk like a tumblr user. His favorite thing to say lately is "me when I'm a little hater" when he's like talking shit about the neighbor's son
I explained the “x before gta6” meme to my immigrant father and he, in turn, explained to me how back in his day in Romania, they had the same type of joke, except instead of it being gta6, it was about the imminent death of a singer named Gică Petrescu, who everyone was continuously shocked by because he refused to die. Every time a momentous event happened people would say, in essence: “This happened and Gică Petrescu hasn’t even died yet?!?”
So. He understood the gta6 meme immediately because they apparently had the same thing in Romania when he was young, except way, way more morbid
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Person: So, now we're just supposed to do anything Red Robin says? What if he jumped off a cliff?
Kon: Hey, don't question my boyfriend! If he were to jump off a cliff, he'd have done his due diligence regarding the height of the cliff, the depth of the water, and the angle of entry. So, yes, if you see him jump off a cliff, by all means, jump off the cliff.
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microdosing on catharsis by watching a fictional character or persona i relate to have an emotional breakdown until my chest starts to ache from the amount i've repressed
so when straight people ask me why I say I’m “queer” or “gay” instead of sharing my actual identity as a panromantic demisexual non-binary sapphic queer I just tell them “ok look, when you’re talking to someone who isn’t local and they ask you where you’re from and you either say the name of the largest city nearby or ‘town name, suburb of large nearby city’ so they can get some geographical context of where you’re located right, bc they’re probably not going to know the name of the little town you actually live in.”
but if you’re talking to a local you can say the name of your actual town bc they have a greater chance of knowing where/what that is.
ok well when I’m talking to a straight person I start with queer bc chances are they aren’t as familiar with the context of all the little towns in that big queer city and need gps (gay positioning system) to find me.
if I’m talking to another queer person and I say I live in a suburb of gay city in a town called panromantic on the demisexual side of the tracks which is in the county of queer and I live off the intersection of non-binary and sapphic, they’d probably be able to find me with little to no problems, make sense?