#Who never really taught them how to be a man

[stanart4clearskin]

dilf patrick!!!

DILF!PATRICK is the kind of guy to pick you up from your dorm for a date but he'll play the most obnoxious music known to man kind because he knows how you get embarrassed so easily.

DILF!PATRICK is the kind of guy who will deliberately treat you like a child when you're annoyed at him because he knows how much you hate it that he doesn't see you as his equal (you're nearly 20 years younger then him, it's kind of hard to.)

DILF!PATRICK is the kind of guy who refuses to make the font on his phone larger even though he can hardly see anything on it. he also refuses to go get his eyes tested because he claims to have 20/20 vision and that glasses are for dorks.

DILF!PATRICK is the kind of guy who actually enjoys the media of your generation. every friday you guys cuddle up on the couch and watch the latest episode of emergency intercom!

DILF!PATRICK is the kind of guy who is secretly a great cook. even though he had been living in his car for years, living off such little money had taught him to be creative with food. now that he does actually have money to buy proper ingredients to cook with, he's constantly experimenting with new recipes and having you taste them. unsurprisingly each dish is pantie droopingly amazing.

DILF!PATRICK is the kind of guy who lets you talk his ear off about whatever celebrity drama is going on at the moment. he doesn't really care to keep up with whatever the hell is going on in hollywood but he knows you do. he lets you explain the paul mescal, phoebe bridgers, daisy edgar jones, and gracie abrams lore to him. unsurprisingly, patrick becomes a fan of paul mescal.

DILF!PATRICK is the kind of guy who will randomly send you a dick pic while you're in class because he's bored and knows you'll get angry at him. you do spend 20 minutes on the phone later that day yelling at him but it's totally worth it when he picks you up and makes it up to you by making you orgasm until you physically can’t anymore.

DILF!PATRICK is the kind of guy who needs you to reassure him that you're not going to leave him for someone your age. even though he knows you wouldn't he can't help but feel slightly insecure whenever you two are out and about together and happen to run into one of your male friends. deep down he knows he could never give you some of what someone your age could and it terrifies him to think that one day you might realize that too.

DILF!PATRICK is the kind of guy who has an issue with picking up after himself. whenever you come over to his apartment you end up having to wash his dishes and throw his dirty clothes into the hamper. this doesn't last for long as you have a serious talk with him about it and slowly but surely he starts to get cleaner. the transition from living in his car and into a permanent apartment hadn't been easy on him.

DILF!PATRICK is the kind of guy who will constantly talk about how much he wants to see you with his babies but when you do fall pregnant he is scared as fuck. even at nearly 40 he's not sure he's ready to be a father. he's not sure he'll ever be ready. he’s also the type of guy to disappear for a few days after you tell him the news. yes he’s shitty but he’s so fucking terrified he doesn’t know what else to do. (also he's the type of guy to get you pregnant before proposing. sorry not sorry.)

[skyrim-forever]

Sujamma Sundas

Thank you @sulphuricgrin for the tag and lovely, eerie scene <3

Tagging: @theoneandonlysemla @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @dirty-bosmer @pocket-vvardvark @changelingsandothernonsense @scholarlyhermit

[This week Sujamma has been brushing up on his literacy. It's hard being a humble Nix-Hound. Reading doesn't come naturally to him, but he's doing his best! This week Sujamma is hoping you will help him learn to read!

Post a favorite scene, favorite sentence, favorite dialogue, favorite anything from any fic you've written! If you haven't written any fic, feel free to share your ideas. If you don't have any, recommend a friend's fic!]

I've decided to share this scene from Chapter 3 of my AU fic These are no times for people like us aka my angsty AU about what if their son grew up without a father. This scene is after an argument between Theodora and her son as he's come home to find a certain mer a bit too close to his mother and Ondolemar is taking what might be the one opportunity he has.

There’s nowhere for Arthano to go, nowhere other than out into the darkness. Howling rain and wind, the waves aggressive from sound alone as the night hides them. So he doesn’t go anywhere, choosing instead to kick at the sand in a feeble attempt to take out the anger. Though the dents he makes are unsatisfying, still so much emotion in him, the young man collapses along the shoreline letting the tears fall in the comfort of the night. The rain added extra deniability if anyone were to see him. The sound of footsteps behind him, not hearing them until they are too close, proves someone is here. 

“Go away Mother, I’ve heard enough from you. You like keeping secrets so keep your thoughts a secret as well.”

“You should not speak to your mother like that.” Him. In spite of the rain, the match inside him is lit again, so is the flames spell he readies as he stands up. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are you fucking piece of shit?” 

“The object of your ire.” What? Again, confusion washes over him. “You are angry at your mother for keeping what I am a secret, you are angry that she would associate with me at all. Further, you are angry at the Thalmor for how your life specifically has been affected, in all of those I am the common denominator. Your ire is with me, not your mother. Keep it focused on me.” Feeling the fire at his fingertips, Arthano agrees. 

“You’re right, you are the problem.”

Magical ability was innate to Altmer, the only thing Arthano really appreciated about that part of him. Where others struggled with the practicals, it came naturally for him. His old mentor Voranil had taught him a lot about conjuration, even more of enchanting which had been his specialty. An old friend of his mother’s Teldryn Sero taught him destruction when the Altmer he looked to as a father revealed his true colours. That had been easy too. All manners of fire and lighting he could make; it felt powerful to do such a thing, being on the receiving end much less so. As he pulls his arm back with the intent to rid himself the problem, the other simply grabs his wrist and lightly twists. Not causing any pain but making the flames dissipate to the younger’s shock.

“What did you-”

“Have you killed anyone?” 

“No…” But you have . 

“Then I wouldn’t recommend picking it up now.” He removes his hand. “If nothing else, be better than myself in that regard.” 

“I am better than you.” 

“Of course you are, already leagues braver than I was at your age. Though I wanted to kill my father, I never put any plans into action; you, however, saw the moment and seized it. Quick thinking, smart.”

It would seem much of what his mother told him was true about the mer in front of him. 

“Your paternal grandfather was not good to his family, he lied, gambled, stole, cheated, had no morality. Your father spent his whole life trying to escape his legacy, replace it with his own.” Maybe they could share this one thing in common, aside from the obvious of their appearance, hatred of their fathers. Now, they could even share the desire to escape their legacy. But it is odd, everything about him was odd, that he commends him for trying to burn him to a crisp, the fact that wouldn’t work due to the heavy downpour doesn’t matter. An attempt on his life was just made and he was… proud of him? Was that what it was? And why does the thought of it ease the weight of the earlier revelation? 

[notacluedo]

more diomedes just bc

[amelikos]

Friede being that bridge between generations and the beloved student of Liko and Amethio's parents, to the point Liko's mother entrusts her daughter's safety to him and that Amethio's father acknowledged his work and kept his ID card long after Friede left Exceed and trusts him enough to let him know he always has a place with him..

Something something, once a student, now the mentor guiding their kids.

[floralovebot]

yknow i think a really fundamental misunderstanding current dc writers have with garth is that he genuinely wasn't a child soldier like dick or wally. sure he definitely comes from that era and there Are undoubtedly aspects of his character arc and relationship with arthur that are similar to the classic mentor/mentee relationship, but their core relationship didn't start with that. arthur originally only brought garth along because they were just besties. arthur was living it up homeless style with this random orphan he found and they got into some hijinks together. then shit happened, he becomes King, but he's not going to abandon garth so he continues to bring him along.

part of garth growing up was him having to take things more seriously and learn to handle hero shit. like. he was really just randomly thrust into that world because arthur Became a big hero, not because arthur intentionally took on a protégé.

so when i see dc writing rebirth garth or even yj garth as this Cool Kid who was taken under arthur's wing and trained to become a Cool Hero, it's just,,, it's a Huge misunderstanding of garth himself but especially their relationship. his daddy issues are amplified because he always saw arthur as this cool older man who took him in as a son, not as a student. unlike a character like dick who has issues with bruce because bruce himself treats him as both a son and student, garth really became the student in response to arthur's duties, after they already had an established relationship. and even then, garth was never meant to be arthur's protégé in the way the other kid sidekicks were.

like. garth became arthur's sidekick because he wanted to be there. he wanted to be with His Dad and help him on these important missions. he didn't want to be alone anymore, and if that meant risking his life for arthur then fucking whatever, he'll do it. while arthur did take on the role of mentor and garth was very much his sidekick, garth was never the Child Soldier or the Protégé like the other sidekicks. like i'd say that's actually a huge part of his character arc. current dc writers will Never be able to capture garth in the right light if they continue to paint him as the same kind of sidekick the other titans were.

[grinchwrapsupreme]

being super normal about White calling Billy "a dreamer"after the events of Maybe No Go

[starry-bi-sky]

back on my bullshit

and by bullshit i mean "rewatch MCD for the millionth time in a row and resist the urge to make an MCD OC"

i have yet to succeed in my bullshit.

[fragglerockopinions]

The worst thing about suffering is that it still hurts when the danger is over but no one cares about it anymore because it shouldn't hurt. No one will ever say "I'm sorry that happened to you" especially when they barely say "I'm sorry that's happening."

[united-under-skyfall]

growing up in a small town is like. i want to get as far away from here as humanly possible and never look back. i've been sorted into homeroom classes with at least seven of the same kids from kindergarten through graduation and i don't know that we've ever talked longer than five minutes but i'd probably die for them. this would be a nice place to live for the rest of my life, i think. you know everyone in town by their family name even if you don't actually know any of them personally. i'm tired. everyone i know is tired. i hate it here. i never want to leave. we have nothing to do here and the boredom gouges tracks in my brain. i am personally offended by anyone not from here who says there's nothing to do here. everyone here knows too much about me. i know too much about everyone here. how does it feel to start from a blank slate? i would never know. there is a quiet, hidden sort of rage that everyone plants in their gardens. the lemonade at the market tastes like five-year-old laughter, the library smells like paper and the hot chocolate they used to make for events in the basement. the local history room hadn't changed since they installed it because there's nothing else to add, nothing else to know. i am tired. they're developing things and too much is changing too quickly and this has been the same unchanging neighborhood for fifty fucking years and now it's utterly unrecognizable from the place i knew barely a decade ago. i am never sure how much this change is a good thing, how much is too much. it feels like someone is peeling back my wallpaper skin when i'm not looking, painting different shades over what i thought should be there. i'm not the only person in this place but it feels strangely like they should have asked for my permission first, like i am part of its foundation, or maybe it's part of mine. (do we ask the bricks what they want the wall to look like, too?) we all share layers of the same memories that are slowly shifting and eroding, and you can see it everywhere you look, viscerally, physically. i think it is impossible to escape this place unless you are willing to bleed, and make bleed. it would be so, so easy to just disappear. the air feels fresher here than anywhere else, simply because it is the baseline my body has learned and my lungs have loved. i am so very, very tired. i think it's this place. i think i like it. i don't know. i don't know how to be anything else. i learned from brick and mortar, from pavement, from parks; buildings that served my mother as a child, graves no one visits anymore, trees older than my family line; everything sags, the colors washed out. they are tired, too.

[badcountryofficial]

I'm so lucky I realized all I did after my first long term relationship and not like...multiple in

[relaxxattack]

i really liked these additional comments and thought they deserved to be in the post

every time i post about male favoritism in the fandom i feel like i need to wear a shirt that says "i am not trying to tell you that it is wrong to like davekat i literally also like davekat if you come away with the assumption that my message is to stop liking the boy ships in homestuck you are missing the overall point which is arguably more detrimental than never having interacted with what i was trying to say in the first place" flashback to that person in my inbox like "just admit that you don't like davekat it's pretty obvious based on your posts that you have a problem with it" do i need to draw them holding hands or something to get you guys to trust me and engage with what i'm saying. would it help if i also threw in a subway surfers clip

[werewolfbneimitzvah]

vent post. There are two stories i was told in my teenage years that even before i had a real concept of trans issues made me uninterested in discussing the supposed sacredness and safety of separated sex-based spaces.

First, when i was like 13 or 14 my PE teacher told us about a time she went to a women's public restroom, some guy was hanging out outside the bathrooms, she didn't think anything of it, went to the bathroom, and he walked in after her and like, creeped on her over the top of the stall. She was ok, she wasn't telling us this to scare us, just telling us what to do in situations like that (and iirc she was telling the whole co-ed class this, not just girls, bc it's useful for everyone), but this taught me immediately and forever that there's nothing actually keeping these spaces separate really, that anyone can be a creep in any space, and that establishing a space like that as for women only isn't actually particularly useful for safety.

Second, when i was 16 i was at an anime convention, a friendly acquaintance of mine and i ended up in conversation outside, and he showed me his bare wrist and told me he'd been kicked out. A female friend of his had stepped in dog poop outside, and between that and the stress of the convention she'd had a bit of an emotional breakdown, so being her friend, he started comforting her and ushered her into the women's restroom so they could wash the poop off her shoe together. And because he was a man who went into the women's bathroom, he got kicked out, no matter that he was doing something that was actually beneficial to a woman. Punishing a woman's friend for supporting her was supposed to... protect her somehow? This made it clear to me that a no-exceptions rule separating the sexes like that wasn't actually inherently good for everyone.

And this isn't even getting into me as a child needing to accompany my younger sister to the restroom when we were out with just my dad because she had certain support needs past the age he felt comfortable bringing her into the men's room with him. And what if I'd been born a boy, or she'd been the first born? Who's helping her then?

And of course even putting all this aside, we should always prioritize compassion and support anyway. But i never even needed to meet a trans person to know that "keeping men out of women's bathrooms" is silly nonsense. But trans people also need to pee anyway and as humans they have that right, so leave them the fuck alone. your precious women's restroom is just a fucking room with a door, holy shit give it a fucking rest, if someone is attacking you in the bathroom that's bad and if someone is in there to pee that's good and it doesn't fucking matter what their junk is or was when they were born.

a woman could have done the exact same thing to my PE teacher and it would have also been bad no matter how "supposed" to be in the restroom she was, and no one should ever be punished for helping a crying friend wash their shoe.

Anyway i know I'm speaking to like-minded folks here, i just think about those two stories literally every time bathroom gender shit comes up and it pisses me off.

[jewishvitya]

A pro-Palestine Jew on tiktok asked those of us who were raised pro-Israel, what got us to change our minds on Palestine. I made a video to answer (with my voice, not my face), and a few people watched it and found some value in it. I'm putting this here too. I communicate through text better than voice.

So I feel repetitive for saying this at this point, but I grew up in the West Bank settlements. I wrote this post to give an example of the extent to which Palestinians are dehumanized there.

Where I live now, I meet Palestinians in day to day life. Israeli Arab citizens living their lives. In the West Bank, it was nothing like that. Over there, I only saw them through the electric fence, and the hostility between us and Palestinians was tangible.

When you're a child being brought into the situation, you don't experience the context, you don't experience the history, you don't know why they're hostile to you. You just feel "these people hate me, they don't want me to exist." And that bubble was my reality. So when I was taught in school that everything we did was in self defense, that our military is special and uniquely ethical because it's the only defensive military in the world - that made sense to me. It slotted neatly into the reality I knew.

One of the first things to burst the bubble for me was when I spoke to an old Israeli man and he was talking about his trauma from battle. I don't remember what he said, but it hit me wrong. It conflicted with the history as I understood it. So I was a bit desperate to make it make sense again, and I said, "But everything we did was in self defense, right?"

He kinda looked at me, couldn't understand at all why I was upset, and he went, "We destroyed whole villages. Of course we did. It was war, that's what you do."

And that casual "of course" stuck with me. I had to look into it more.

I couldn't look at more accurate history, and not at accounts by Palestinians, I was too primed against these sources to trust them. The community I grew up in had an anti-intellectual element to it where scholars weren't trusted about things like this.

So what really solidified this for me, was seeing Palestinian culture.

Because part of the story that Israel tells us to justify everything, is that Palestinians are not a distinct group of people, they're just Arabs. They belong to the nations around us. They insist on being here because they want to deny us a homeland. The Palestinian identity exists to hurt us. This, because the idea of displacing them and taking over their lands doesn't sound like stealing, if this was never theirs and they're only pretending because they want to deprive us.

But then foods, dances, clothing, embroidery, the Palestinian dialect. These things are history. They don't pop into existence just because you hate Jews and they're trying to move here. How gorgeous is the Palestinian thobe? How stunning is tatreez in general? And when I saw specific patterns belonging to different regions of Palestine?

All of these painted for me a rich shared life of a group of people, and countered the narrative that the Palestininian identity was fabricated to hurt us. It taught me that, whatever we call them, whatever they call themselves, they have a history in this land, they have a right to it, they have a connection to it that we can't override with our own.

I started having conversations with leftist friends. Confronting the fact that the borders of the occupied territories are arbitrary and every Israeli city was taken from them. In one of those conversations, I was encouraged to rethink how I imagine peace.

This also goes back to schooling. Because they drilled into us, we're the ones who want peace, they're the ones who keep fighting, they're just so dedicated to death and killing and they won't leave us alone.

In high school, we had a stadium event with a speaker who was telling us about a person who defected from Hamas, converted to Christianity and became a Shin Bet agent. Pretty sure you can read this in the book "Son of Hamas." A lot of my friends read the book, I didn't read it, I only know what I was told in that lecture. I guess they couldn't risk us missing out on the indoctrination if we chose not to read it.

One of the things they told us was how he thought, we've been fighting with them for so long, Israelis must have a culture around the glorification of violence. And he looked for that in music. He looked for songs about war. And for a while he just couldn't find any, but when he did, he translated it more fully, and he found out the song was about an end to wars. And this, according to the story as I was told it, was one of the things that convinced him. If you know know the current trending Israeli "war anthem," you know this flimsy reasoning doesn't work.

Back then, my friend encouraged me to think more critically about how we as Israelis envision peace, as the absence of resistance. And how self-centered it is. They can be suffering under our occupation, but as long as it doesn't reach us, that's called peace. So of course we want it and they don't.

Unless we're willing to work to change the situation entirely, our calls for peace are just "please stop fighting back against the harm we cause you."

In this video, Shlomo Yitzchak shares how he changed his mind. His story is much more interesting than mine, and he's much more eloquent telling it. He mentions how he was taught to fear Palestinians. An automatic thought, "If I go with you, you'll kill me." I was taught this too. I was taught that, if I'm in a taxi, I should be looking at the driver's name. And if that name is Arab, I should watch the road and the route he's taking, to be prepared in case he wants to take me somewhere to kill me. Just a random person trying to work. For years it stayed a habit, I'd automatically look at the driver's name. Even after knowing that I want to align myself with liberation, justice, and equality. It was a process of unlearning.

On October, not long after the current escalation of violence, I had to take a taxi again. A Jewish driver stopped and told me he'll take me, "so an Arab doesn't get you." Israeli Jews are so comfortable saying things like this to each other. My neighbors discussed a Palestinian employee, with one saying "We should tell him not to come anymore, that we want to hire a Jew." The second answered, "No, he'll say it's discrimination," like it would be so ridiculous of him. And the first just shrugged, "So we don't have to tell him why." They didn't go through with it, but they were so casual about this conversation.

In the Torah, we're told to treat those who are foreign to us well, because we know what it's like to be the foreigner. Fighting back against oppression is the natural human thing to do. We know it because we lived it. And as soon as I looked at things from this angle, it wasn't really a choice of what to support.

[acid-ixx]

a loving family, an unpalatable desire

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: would anyone hear me out if i ever wrote romantic yan! bruce (ft. platonic yan! batfam AND romantic yan clark kent alongside the superfam ofc) with a neglected spouse reader... because uhm, i've been thinking about it lately just yk... so anyways PLSPLSPLS send in asks about this, ive been thinking about it so much lately.

imagine wanting to raise a family so badly with a man who adopts problem children as a side hustle. you're not some invasive spouse, you've always been good, always been loving, so... so accepting, never questioned where or how he picked them up from the side of the streets, never once complaining about the hickeys on his neck or the once neat tussles of his hair now tangled accompanying lipstick stains on his white suit.

you love your children, you tell yourself all the time. you love them, you love bruce— even if he doesn't love you. you said it in your vows, despite it being scripted, despite your family finally sighing in relief in the sidelines at finally being able to sell you off to one of the wealthiest man in the world, rather than being wasting off under their care— your vows are real.

you wanted someone to love you, unconditionally, so viscerally eternal that it eats you up.

really, all you wanted was to play that fantasy life of trophy house spouses. all you wished for was a loving, healthy relationship. the american dream: the picture perfect family frames, your husband kissing you on the cheek as he leaves for work, your children bickering at the dining room, with the scent of homemade meals wafting about the vicinity. all you wanted was the warmth in your chest to flicker like candlelights. all you dreamed about was that domestic life, an escape from the abusive household you were raised in.

yet the manor is too cold, too unforgiving for a soul such as yours.

the longer you stay inside claustrophobic, yet oh-so large hallways, the quicker you drown in a neverending pool of self-hatred.

but you're not allowed to show them your sufferings. they've been through much worse, you tell yourself. they've suffered more, and as what good spouses do, as what you're taught, you stay silent, enabling them to turn you into their own emotional punching bag.

you only allow yourself to cry at the dead of the night, under the sheets of your too-cold blanket and your too-hot pillows. when the manor is filled with deathly silence and a looming sense of dread and ill fitting thoughts of ifs and when they'll come back in one piece, will you grant yourself temporary respite; worry for a family who never even called you their parent.

yet you've always been so considerate. despite the pang in your chest every time bruce flirts with anymore potential love interest at a gala, you chose to instead monitor your chaotic children, who have always never bat an eye on you despite you always gazing lovingly at them.

you know of their interests, they don't know yours, yet you still give them extravagant gifts on their birthdays, with tired, yet glinting eyes, and a silent excuse to return to your room; one separate from bruce.

you know of bruce's hardships, but you don't push too hard, don't force him to talk, only provide him your silence and an offer to serve him dinner; all the time he refuses without looking at you. you give him comfort only if he ever allows you, only if he allows his walls to crumble— but not even his spouse can amount to a warm, crackling fireplace. to him, you're probably only a matchstick under the deadbeat glaze of the snow in a winter night.

maybe that's why you're such a ghost in the manor, stalking through the hallways, looking out for any of your children in case they come across you with any injuries. maybe that's why eventually your resolve weakened.

and maybe the absence of familial love led you to find comfort in another man's arm.

''til death do us part,' is such a tragic saying in your case, because you know it in your fragile heart that bruce's love for you was never alive in the first place. and yet you allow him to play you like a fiddle, allow him to slowly allow you to slip away from his nonexistent grasp.

and now, you're a stand-in parent for clark's son, jon, after the tragic loss of his wife. now, your world seems a lot less bleaker, as you play the fantasy of a loving house spouse, fully abandoning the life you left behind, a life you've never been gifted with until now. you want to feel guilty, you want to feel absolutely terrible but the heartache of neglect has become too much and all you do was allow clark to warm you up each night, kissing away your tears and spooning your deep-seated anxieties away.

you don't let the past eat you up, not when the present is too perfect, too freeing, too delusionally beautiful.

your son, jon provides you every joy a parent could have. parent's day gifts, heartfelt letters at every nook and cranny of your shared bedroom with clark— even reading him bedtime stories, allowing him to sleep in your lap after he slowly nods off, with clark knocking softly on polished wooden doors, greeting you with a loving kiss on the lips and a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand—

it's everything a parent wants, needs even.

and you're everything clark, and especially jon wants, needs in their life.

so it's such a stupid mistake, really. a slip of the tongue, a too-enthusiastic smile, incredibly bright, shining eyes. it's not jon's fault, you still love him either way. but it's an error still— one a complicated matter at hand, so dreadful for you, that jon accidentally, all-too-suddenly, mentions you as his parent to damian.

a loving, wonderful parent, he says, with a picture of you in his wallet shoved right in front of his friend's face.

[afatkidclub]

Older Boyfriend Simon Riley

Thanks to the notes on my last post, I will be posting this blurb here. It's just for shits and giggles.

Older Boyfriend!Simon Riley who has been the best boyfriend you have ever had.

Refuses to let you call a handyman. Leaky sink? He had it fixed before you even knew there was a problem. Squeaky desk chair? Suddenly completely silent. 

Gets really competitive with Mario Kart and refuses to play again after losing a couple of rounds. Gets really into Minecraft but doesn’t let you help build things because “You’re doing it wrong” even though you’re the one who taught him how to play

Does not understand girl math. 

-- “The fuck you mean it’s not real money

-- “If I use cash, it’s free because it doesn’t come out of my account. Therefore it’s not real money.” 

-- “I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works.” 

-- Now drops cash in your purse so that you have “fake” money to use. 

Hates girl dinner only because he knows that a bowl of popcorn or a couple crackers and cheese is not a full meal. 

A year of his life drops off every time he hears you saying “I’m doing it for the plot.” 

Refuses to download tiktok but will watch them on your phone with you for hours at a time

Went on a very long lecture about the Roman Empire and how it came to be (talk specifically about the military aspect) once you mentioned something was your Roman empire. Didn’t even notice you had fallen asleep halfway through the lecture. Still doesn’t know what you mean when you say something is your Roman Empire. 

Has absolutely no idea what you mean when you say “same.” 

-- You had to explain that it was just something you said when you found anything relatable

-- “What the bloody hell could be relatable about a plastic bag blowing across the road.” 

Has attempted to use the word slay in a sentence and it only ended with you in the longest laughing fit known to man. 

Listens to you explain celebrity beef and wonders why you talk about them like you know them personally and how you know all this information. 

Vine references, goes right over his head. 

-- One time quoted “Road work ahead, uh yeah I sure hope it does” after you had done it so many times, you nearly choked to death on air that day. 

Emojis are his worst enemy. Never gets the message when you try to hint at something using emojis. 

Learns very early on that anytime you two go out for errands, you require a sweet treat. 

-- Uses going out to get a sweet treat as an excuse to take you out on dates 

-- Also makes sure to buy you a sweet treat anytime you complete a task you didn’t want to do.

[haveihitanerve]

Bruce sends his kids little notes using carrier bats. It first started when Dick moved out and he wanted to talk to his son but didn't want to call and then have dick hang up on him or decline, didn't want to see his message be left on read, so he bought a little circus bat and taught it to fly to wherever Dick’s scent was (ie he would hang a piece of dicks clothing up at one end of the cave) and built him a nest built of dicks old bedsheets and then tied a little note to its foot, just a little question about how the weather is in Bludhaven and if hes getting enough sleep and alfred misses him, nothing that can be seen as overbearing or forcing himself into his life, and the little bat flies all the way to Bludhaven and hangs on Dicks window and Dick sees it and memories slam into him full force because bats are batman and robin and he cant, not yet. So he doesn't open the window. Ignores him. But the little bat is anything if not as stubborn as the man who trained him so he stays. And after two days Dick relents because the bat hasn't moved an inch and is probably hungry, so he brings him inside and then he sees the note for the first time and opens it and then he breaks and the tears flow because Bruce cares and bruce still wants him. And dick spends time with the little bat and takes it on missions as Nightwing because they’re both nocturnal and then finally, dick attaches a little note to the bats leg and he flies off to bruce. And bruce sees the little bat on his window and opens it, when he spots Dick standing just below, smiling faintly. “Hey b.” 

Bruce gets a bat from the cave ceiling for Babs almost immediately after her accident with Joker because he has responsibilities but he cant leave her alone so he sends her notes everyday and hopes the bat is a good enough companion and when she becomes oracle the bat serves as an exchange of information and contacts and bruce still uses him to check up on her and babs rolls her eyes everytime, but its fond

And so then when Jason comes bruce finds another little bat hanging in crime alley and uses her as a therapy animal after he dies and trains her the way he trained Dick’s but the bat doesn't have anyone to fly to and bruce tries not to cry when he sends it out with notes and it returns because it has no one to deliver to… until one day it doesn't come back. And bruce is afraid and confused and a week later the bat is back, a new note attached to her leg and bruce takes it and breaks down and he gets to talk to his son again. 

Tim already comes with his own bat because Nightwing has one, but the little girl imprints on Bruce right away and Tim pouts but he cant really be angry, not when Bruce sends his bat over to him almost daily while hes in the batcave or his room or the tower with reminders to eat and sleep and coupons for coffee

When Steph arrives Bruce hates himself for firing her but he just cant right now, but he stills gets a bat from the cave and sends it to her and apologizes because he cant bring himself to leave everything unspoken between them and Steph actually adores it and every so often she’ll send him a note and bruce knows hes forgiven

For Damian theres no need for a bat because he lives in the house with Bruce, but then they have Goliath and well… he serves as a messenger when no one else can get damian out of the training area

bruce has never named the bats, thinking that was for them alone to do and he didnt want to get too attached because theres always a chance he pushed too far and his kids wont send a message back, but one day all his kids were hanging out in the living room together and bruce had just come up to join them when he hears dick say "hey wheres b? the movie's about to start?" and jason chucks a piece of popcorn in his mouth and goes "idk, ill send him a note." but tim goes "no i will!" and all together they yell "ROBIN!!!" and all their bats come flying from the cave and fly to their specific masters and Bruce cant fight the tears and when every little bat flies towards him and delivers their note he walks out into the living room and gives them the biggest hug