batfamily · dc comics · found family · chaotic domestic · gotham city · dark humor · cooking disaster · group chat · vigilantes · slice of life
The kitchen is bathed in a sickly orange glow under flickering lights, with smoke curling across the ceiling like a gathering storm. The fire alarm is screaming in a frantic, piercing rhythm, and Stephanie is swinging a dish towel at it in wild, desperate arcs. Across the counter, Jason is hunched over a pot that is hissing and spitting, his jaw locked as he glares at something dark and bubbling within. In the corner, Tim cracks open his third energy drink, his voice a low, manic mutter about oxidation rates. Damian is perched on a wooden stool, sword drawn, daring the oven to make a single move. You stand in the doorway, clutching the recipe card like a shield. "Where's Alfred?" you ask for the third time. "Vacation," Tim replies without looking up. "And Bruce?" "The cave. We are absolut…