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i just saw a post on reddit titled "the writer is cooking but the food doesn't agree with me" and it was about OP clicking off a fic because they don't like the direction it's going in. slightly different context but can we all be more like this reddit OP. i think "the writer is cooking but the food doesn't agree with me" should be the new "don't like don't read." dead doves may give you diarrhea but don't make that everyone else's problem.

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I might be a little bored at work.

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Inspired by this post.

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I know way too much about something that I know put me on a watch list because of a fic I am writing. But on the plus side, I also have found out that pirates, samurai, and knights did exist during overlapping periods in history, so while not all three existed simultaneously in the same place, their eras did intersect. So there is that. Reality can be way weirder than fiction sometimes, so even the know-it-all critics can be way off. So just do you. If it's historically accurate, then yay. If it's off the wall and nothing matches reality, then also, yay. Just have fun.

writing anything even remotely outside your personal expertise means you’re signing up for one of two disasters:

a) spending 300 hours researching medieval plumbing systems for a three-sentence scene in your fantasy novel that no one will even care about, OR

b) skipping the research entirely and hoping no one notices when your 17th-century pirate casually says, 'let’s circle back on that.'

either way, someone on the internet will tell you you’re wrong.

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Jason in his Red Hood outfit stepping out onto the fire escape of his safe house: "Nope. Not today."

Proceeds to step back into his safe house and closing the window right as Nightwing swings towards said window causing Nightwing to hit the window and bounce off into the dumpster below the fire escape.

" Oh come on Little Wing that's just cold! Don't you love your big brother?" Nightwing shouted at the window in despair.

Hearing something smack the window Nightwing climbed up the fire escape to see if he could get inside only to be greeted by a picture of a hand waving the middle finger with a caption that read 'Fuck Off' in stylized cursive.

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Things almost every author needs to research

How bodies decompose

Wilderness survival skills

Mob mentality

Other cultures

What it takes for a human to die in a given situation

Common tropes in your genre

Average weather for your setting

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Danny steps out of the grandfather clock in Bruce's office and looks around, talking to himself, "Ya, this tracks. Crazy rich fruitloop with a creepy basement. At least this one's a good guy and didn't try to clone or torture me. And he has good taste in furniture."

Alfred, who had been about to enter the office so he could head down to the cave to call everyone up for post-patrol snacks, said, "Why thank you, young sir. I am certain that Master Bruce would enjoy the compliment on his interior design. Now, young sir, I seem to have my hands full. Would you be willing to help this old man move some food to the table while we wait for the rest of the family? "

Danny who was raised with Midwest politeness, "Of course! So what we having?"

---

"Alfred? Are you okay?" Bruce asked when he and the batkids walked into the kitchen to find Alfred washing some dishes.

"I am quite well Master Bruce. Children? I'm afraid there are no snacks tonight but I do hope that you all rest well." Alfred said much to the sorrow of the batkids as they trudged their way up to their rooms. "That goes for you too Master Bruce." He said when Bruce walked over to the fridge.

"Alfred? Did I do something wrong?" Bruce asked in bewilderment.

"Not at all, Master Bruce." Alfred said as he finished up the dishes and turned to leave. "Oh, and before I forget. Despite the short notice, I was able to find some clean linens. Anyways, what's done is done. Just please give me more of a warning next time Sir. Good night, and remember you have that board meeting tomorrow morning at 8 am sharp." He said before heading toward his room. Leaving a confused Bruce behind.

You're Grounded Mister

Summary:

A mission gone wrong leaves the Batkids bickering—until Batman grounds them and Danny Fenton, a confused civilian caught in the chaos. This one-shot is based on this post by Shower-Phantom-Ideas

It had all gone downhill fast.

The plan had been Dick’s idea—though Tim and Jason definitely could have pointed out the glaring holes in it, and Damian hadn’t exactly offered his usual dose of cynicism. It was supposed to be a quick, in-and-out operation. Minimal risk, maximum payoff.

But things got complicated when that guy showed up. Just some kid, and not even a vigilante or a rogue. It was supposed to be a straightforward job in Gotham’s shadier district—stop the exchange of a highly dangerous chemical, break up the bad guys, be home in time for breakfast. But, no, some civilian had gotten in the way and distracted the gangsters long enough to mess with their timing.

As Jason would tell it later, “It was just bad luck.” As Bruce would say, “It was complete negligence.”

And as for Danny? Well, he didn’t have much of a say in it. Not that he was about to back down from a bunch of armed gangsters, especially with the Batkids swooping in around him, leaving chaos and knocked-out criminals in their wake. Danny had handled a few of them before they even showed up, quietly taking out the last of them when Bruce finally stepped in.

And now they were here, a tense, heated argument in a dark Gotham alley.

“You should have waited for backup!” Bruce snapped, his voice slicing through their squabbles. “I told you it was a risk to go in alone—especially when we didn’t have all the intel! This is about safety, and clearly—”

“Right, clearly we were fine until you stepped in,” Jason shot back, scowling.

“It would have gone smoothly if someone didn’t just happen to be there,” Dick muttered, clearly feeling defensive.

“It was your idea, Grayson!” Tim hissed, his voice laden with frustration. “Don’t turn this around.”

“Maybe if you’d listened—”

Damian scoffed. “I could have handled them on my own.”

Bruce’s frown deepened, and he turned to Danny, who was awkwardly inching his way toward the exit.

“And don’t think you’re getting out of this,” Bruce said, turning his Batglare on him. “You’re grounded too.”

Danny froze, one foot halfway lifted in a tippy-toe pose. “I… I’m sorry, what?”

The Batkids stopped mid-argument and looked at Danny, then back at Bruce, then at each other, as if piecing something together. Dick’s face morphed from irritation to confusion; Jason’s went slack.

“Uh… Mr. Batman, sir, with all due respect, I’m just some guy,” Danny said slowly, staring at Bruce. “Can… Can Batman even do that?”

“Everyone in the Batmobile,” Bruce said firmly, ignoring Danny’s question. “We’ll discuss this further in the morning.”

Danny, still too stunned to process much beyond “Batman grounded me,” felt himself nodding along. Guess we’re going with it.

The ride was silent and tense. Jason looked broody, arms crossed, staring out the window. Tim rubbed his temples, probably rethinking every tactical choice. Dick was sulking, and Damian, surprisingly, just looked mad at being lumped in with the others. Danny, meanwhile, stayed very still, wedged between Tim and Jason, trying not to breathe too loudly. It was a surreal experience—he was tired, his limbs ached, and his brain was reeling from the absurdity of it all, but it was Batman. The Batmobile wasn’t exactly the place to make his objections.

By the time they reached the Batcave, Danny figured he’d try for some clarity.

“Uh,” he started, looking around at the cavernous space, vast and impressive, filled with tech and lights. “So, do you mind if I, uh, call my family to tell them I won’t be home tonight?”

The entire cave fell silent. Jason froze mid-complaint, Dick and Tim stopped sulking, and Damian’s scowl melted into shock. All four of them stared at Danny, and then slowly, like someone had hit pause, their heads turned to look at Bruce.

He seemed unbothered, glancing at Danny as if this were just standard procedure. But for everyone else, the realization was dawning. Dick was the first to speak, his voice wavering.

“Uh… Bruce?” Dick asked slowly, eyebrows raised. “Did… Did you kidnap a civilian?”

Bruce frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jason burst out laughing, doubling over, his hands clutching his sides. “Oh, this is gold. He’s not even a rogue, B. He’s just some random guy you told to get in the car!”

Danny held up his hands. “In my defense, it was Batman, okay? Who’s going to not get in the Batmobile when Batman tells you you’re grounded?”

Tim covered his face with both hands, muffling his laugh. Damian scowled, crossing his arms.

“This is embarrassing,” he muttered. “Father, you’re losing credibility by the second.”

Bruce’s expression tightened, clearly irked by the fact that his kids’ attention had wandered from the initial issue. They had disobeyed him, endangered a civilian, and now they were laughing because, okay, maybe he had unintentionally forced said civilian to join them in the Batcave.

He sighed, rubbing his temples, clearly rethinking several recent decisions.

“Alright,” Bruce finally said. “My apologies. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you don’t need to be here. We’ll get you a ride back home.”

Danny blinked, a little surprised. “So, wait, I’m not grounded?”

“No, you’re not grounded,” Bruce replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Jason snickered. “Damn, you got off easy. We’re grounded for sure.”

Bruce cleared his throat, and the smiles faded from the other Batkids’ faces. “Yes, you’re grounded,” he said, looking at each of them in turn. “All of you.”

They groaned in unison, but Danny, relieved beyond measure, was already edging toward the door. He nodded a quick thank you to Batman and managed a small, awkward wave to the others.

As he left, he could hear Dick muttering, “Grounded… from what? We’re grown men!”

Jason groaned. “Grounded as in, no solo missions, genius.”

Danny paused, letting the sounds of the Batfamily’s complaints echo behind him as he took the lift back to ground level. He shook his head, chuckling. Only in Gotham. Only with Batman would you end up “grounded” for just existing in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But hey—at least he got a free ride in the Batmobile out of it.

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It... It was something I was doing irl. The tags were a reference to a saying I used to hear all the time when people would forget what they were doing and stuff like that. That the player controlling their sim was messing with them.

How did I go from baking cookies (Pre-cut. I'm lazy.), to emptying water out of two aquariums and topping off a third?

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Growing up I watched Zorro and The Mask of Zorro. And today I learned that this dudes name means fox. This foxy mans vigilanty name means fox. And I didn't even learn this from the Spanish lessons I'm taking. I learned this from my youngest seedling's flipping fruit snacks!

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Someone put my stupid blurb on the clock app! 🤣

Here:

“Welcome to BatBurger. Home of the BatBurger. How may I take your order?”

“With a smile of course!” The Joker cackled as he pulled out a canister and threw it at the cashier.

“Nuh-uh.” The cashier deadpans before throwing the canister back.

“The fuck you mean ‘Nuh-uh’?” Joker yelled throwing the canister back.

“Don’t wanna.” The cashier replied while smacking the canister out of the air and directly into the Joker's hand.

“Why you little!” The Joker threw the canister on the ground and lunged at the cashier.

🕐🕑🕒🕓🕔🕕🕖

“And what happened after that?” Commissioner Gorden asked the young man in front of him.

“He tripped.” The young man said with a shrug.

“Uh-huh.” Gorden hummed as he looked over where the body bag was being pulled out of the restaurant. “And the holes?”

“I guess the canister finally went off. It's such a shame really. I didn’t even get to deliver a decent punchline.”

“Right… And what was your name again?”

“Oh, it’s Danny. Danny Fenton. But you won’t be able to find me if you look me up.” The young man, Danny, said with a shit-eating grin.

“You know you’re not supposed to admit to going by a fake identity right?” Gordan asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Ya, but it is my real name. You just won’t be able to find it.” Danny said as he shifted his gaze to the shadowed figgier in the nearby alleyway. “Not even you, Big Bat. But you're free to try.”

“Hn.” Batman grunted before stepping back further into the shadows and disappearing.

“Why do I feel like you are about to be… and he’s gone. Why do I even bother?” Gordan sighed as he looked away from where the Bat vanished and back to where Danny was supposed to be. He grumbled as he put his notebook away and started for his car. His car, that now had a little green sticky note on it.

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"WHY DO YOU HAVE THOSE!!!" Danny screeched from his fetal position on the floor while Red Hood hovered over him trying to help.

"Oh, shit, oh shit. Fuck what do I do? What do you need?"

"For you to explain to me why your TITS just ZAPPED ME!" Danny wheezed out while pushing himself into a sitting position as the shock wore off.

"Defense!" Hood shouted while throwing his hands up in exasperation. "I want to know why they malfunctioned like that."

"Have you forgotten that I'm a GHOSTS? And teck tends to malfunction around us? I'm just happy that happened while I was in my human form. Bright sides and all that."

"What?... What do you mean a ghost?" Hood asked causing Danny to freeze and slowly turn to look at him.

"You know. Because I'm Phantom? And Phantom is a ghost?" Danny said with a befuddled look.

"YOUR PHANTOM?! Why didn't you tell me!"

"I thought you knew! Figured it was just one of those things that you don't talk about. I don't talk about your alter ego and you don't talk about mine."

"You know who I am under the hood?"

"Yes? By the way that casserole you made last night was a hit with my siblings when they came over today and raided my fridge."

"Fuck."

"Fair enough? I'm good getting back to my apartment on my own if you need a moment."

"Ya. I... Ya."

"Okay. Have a good night Hood." Danny said before turning tail and running away.

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lbm can be a little eldrich. As a treat.

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i would move heaven and earth to avoid hearing one single advertisement