#i need to write a mini fic

[gothamite-rambler]

While Batman and his kids were in the middle of an investigation in the afternoon, the cheerful jingle of an ice cream truck filled the air. The sons and daughter of Batman turned to see the truck passing by, and Damian was the first to take off after it.

Damian: Stop! Stop! I want ice cream, I've never been this fortunate! Come back!

Tim (running beside him): We can catch up to it!

Jason: I have money… I want ice cream! I can try to shoot the tires out!

As Jason followed his brother, Dick slipped away to join them, leaving Batman to analyze the weapon left behind by the perp.

Dick: I want the Spongebob pop with the gumball eyes!

The ice cream truck driver noticed the four heroes racing after his truck and perked up, stopping abruptly.

Driver: And my mom said ice cream delivery trucks in Gotham were dead!

As the Batboys rushed to buy their treats, Batman realized everyone but Cass was missing. He spotted her standing aside, waving, her mask-covered face hiding a smile.

Batman sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exhaustion.

Batman: Alright, guess we can take a break. Come on, Orphan; I'll buy you a strawberry cone.

Cass clapped happily as she and her father walked over to the truck, ready to join the fun.

[carebeardean]

Charles has always left Edwin little notes slipped between the pages of his favorite books, in his science equipment, places he knows Edwin loves. Just silly things—post its that say “hi Edwin :)”. doodles of Edwin with his nose stuck in a book. reminders to stock up on wolfsbane. but.

Then, post canon, Edwin tentatively starts dating people. And it’s ridiculous, because Edwin’s right there, all the time, but Charles..misses him a bit. And his heads a mess, and he can’t sort out what the hell he’s feeling most of the time, and whenever he tries to say any of it out loud it comes out rubbish.

So. He writes down some of the shit he can’t say right, and because he’s a coward, hides them so he doesn’t have to see Edwin’s face when he reads them.

then Edwin starts writing back.

Neat lilac blue little envelopes appear in Charles coat pockets. In his bag. Once, in his shoe? Some nights, Edwin will clear his throat and mention something from a letter, offhand, like they’re just picking up conversation, and Charles can pretend they are. That they always have talked about the basement, the belt, the nameless fear that chokes him every time Edwin walks out the door with someone else on his arm.

Sometimes he can’t. The words get stuck in his throat. Edwin’s not mad, he’s maddeningly, stubbornly kind about it, which is worse.

Some nights they trade. A secret for a secret. Charles learns about the novels Edwin used to hide under his mattress, about all the lonely years before Charles got there. About Simon.

Meanwhile, Edwin is losing his mind, because Charles has accidentally stumbled onto what was a fucking courting ritual in his time. Love letters were something engaged couples treasured for years, kept and reread over and over. (Edwin does. keep them in a special box, will take one out and trace the words, tuck it in his breast pocket for courage).

Edwin would rather have to reattach a limb again than lose Charles trust, all the dark and beautiful things he shares with Edwin only. He knows—knows Charles doesn’t mean to make him fall more in love with him.

[churrobird]

"okay, okay, okay! uhm! close your eyes, please?"

under his mask, clown allowed himself a fond smile, watching as ros anxiously bounced on her toes in front of him.

he had been sitting in his room in the castle, polishing one of his enchanting daggers, when the architect had knocked on his door. she had poked her head in, beaming with nervous delight at the sight of him, and had told him that she had a gift for him.

"a gift?"

"yes! a gift! i've made everyone hats for the ball- obviously, i already gave you yours, but... i decided to make something else for you!"

that brought them to now. obediently, he shut his eyes, his keen ears picking up rustling as, presumably, ros pulled something from her inventory.

"you're not peeking, right?" he heard ros question, a hesitant skepticism in her voice.

"and ruin such a grand surprise from the royal architect herself? of course not, my dear ros!" clown replied, shifting his voice into his grandiose "archmage" accent

pride bubbled in his chest as he heard ros barely suppress a giggle. that silly voice had always made her laugh, so naturally, he did it as much as possible around her.

"no, i believe you! just hold out your hands!"

no sooner than had he followed the command, something was placed into his open grasp. ros' hands guided his own to firmly hold the object. he ran his fingers over it, attempting to figure out what it was before he opened his eyes. it was round, convex, and cold. even with his gloves preventing him from feeling the finer grooves, he could tell that there were streaks of a different material in the middle, with a smoother, glossier texture than the rest.

"okaaaayy... open your eyes!" ros said, and so he did.

in his hands was a mask. white porcelain, with a wide grin and cross-like eyes just like the one already on his face. the difference was the thick cracks of gold that ran down the length of the entire mask, as if binding together the different shards of porcelain. he reverently ran his thumb over the cheek of the mask, admiring the whorls of red and gold paint that decorated the rest of it.

it took him a moment to reply, so enraptured by the design, before he quickly realized that ros had slowly been going tense, clearly worried that his silence was one of displeasure. he snapped back to reality, quick to assure her, "oh, i love it, ros! it's wonderful."

her entire body sagged with relief, "oh, thank you, thank you! i got the idea for the gold cracks after reading a book about pottery! it's called "kintsugi"- when you repair broken pottery with gold? it took me... a couple of tries to get it right."

"how many is 'a couple'?" he asked, playfully.

her pause spoke volumes, and she meekly mumbled, "sixteen...."

he snickered, and had to hold back a snort at her adorable pout.

he then returned his attention to the mask, and was suddenly struck by an intense thought, an urge:

try it on.

unseen, his gaze flickered back up to ros, who had continued rambling softly about how frustrating the failed fifteen attempts were. normally, he would have listened to every word from ros' mouth with rapture, but his brain was fixated on the thought.

he didn't want to wait for ros to leave. no, his mind called, despite all reason, try it on now.

but that would require ros to see my face, he thought back, and...

he wasn't bothered by that, actually. he hadn't shown anyone his face on the realm, a hesitance always keeping him from doing so, but he had long since decided that ros and sneeg would be the first. it was just a matter of... when he finally felt comfortable.

and finally, his subconscious decided that that moment was right now, apparently. a bit overdue, honestly.

without allowing himself to second guess himself, he pulled back his jester hood, letting his curly black hair spill free. he distantly heard ros make a confused, questioning noise, and as he fumbled with the clasp of the straps on the back of his head, he heard a loud, startled squeak as she realized what was happening.

he finally managed to one-handedly undo the clasp, and after pulling it off, he was met with the sight of ros having jumped back a few inches, her hands desperately smacked over her eyes.

he couldnt help but smile teasingly at her antics, "ros?"

"you- wuh- huh!?" she stuttered out, bewildered. "you- you were taking off your mask!"

"yes, i was?"

"but!? your face!? i cant see your face!!"

"why not, ros?"

"because- because you're really private about that!?"

affection flooded through him, and his teasing smile became more soft. it was truly touching how ros was so respectful of his private nature, even when he couldn't be more obvious about where his boundaries laid now.

placing both masks on the desk in front of him, he stood, reaching forward and cupping one of ros' hands with his own. she startled, clearly having not heard him get closer in her reeling.

"ros," he muttered coyly, "why would i take my mask off right in front of you if i didn't want you to see my face?"

the architect opened her mouth to retort, then quickly shut it again, her face flushing in embarrassment, "i.. well! i was just... caught off-guard, you know!? you gave me no warning that something so important would happen, clown!"

something so important, his heart echoed. he didn't know how she managed to burrow her words so thoroughly into him without even intending to.

he patted the back of her hand, urging her to move it, "well then, roscumber, i'm telling you now. i want you to look at my face."

there was a pause as she nodded at his words. she took in a shaky breath, as if hyping herself up, before she finally tore her hands away from her face, taking clown's hand with them.

he could tell the moment she registered what she was looking at when she froze, her darting eyes her only remaining movement. he could tell when she took in his red irises, his crooked-from-battle nose, the facial scars he acquired from porcelain-cracking crystals and axe strikes.

he didn't break eye contact with her, even as his heart pounded in his chest.

finally, the silence broke,

"oh..." ros whispered softly, as if she didn't realize he could hear her. "you're really pretty, clown."

against his will, he could feel his cheeks grow warm, such a sincere compliment taking him off guard. he saw the moment ros realize she had said that aloud, her face violently flushing an adorable pink.

"what!?" she yelped as he began to laugh, "i'm right!"

she smacked her hands over her mouth, clearly not having meant to say that either, and he laughed harder as she let a muffled, frustrated yell into her hands.

"well, i'm glad you think that, ros. you're pretty too, you know." he winked at her.

he savored the smile that tugged at her lips, despite her embarrassment, "aww... thank you, clown."

"always, ros. now! there was a reason why i decided to show you my face now." he announced, only getting a glimpse of her perking up as he turned back towards the desk.

he picked up the kintsugi mask delicately, before placing it into its creator's hands.

"i want you to help me try it on, ros."

[donutfloats]

One night, Lamb and Narinder are sat outside gazing at the stars, it’s before they’re in a romantic relationship (perhaps pining at this stage) so they’re just friends at this moment.

Lamb asks the question “If you had a normal life, what would you have wanted to do?”

Narinder is confused by this, “what brought this on?” He’d ask, turning to look at them.

Lamb shrugged, still gazing up at the starlit sky. “Just somethin’ I remembered thinking about a lot before.. well, you know.” They gestured down the hill, where the temple of their cult stood along with the many follower huts and other stations. “The whole cult thing.”

Narinder hummed as he turned back to gazing at the stars, “… I do not know. It was never a thought that crossed my mind as I couldn’t imagine my self as anything else other than a God.”

There was a long pause after this, the silence was then broken by Narinder.

“I assume you had something in mind for your self?”

“I wanted a family.” Lamb replied.

Narinder was taken slightly aback by this, brows furrowed into a look of confusion. “A family? That’s it?”

Lamb nodded, pushing their arms out that were propping their self up to fully lay back on the grass, their gaze still transfixed upon the night sky. “Yep, I wanted to get married and have kids. Settle down, have a house, grow our own food. Live a small, simple life.”

“How… mundane.” Narinder replied as he slumped back into the grass. “… Why?”

Now it was the Lamb’s turn to be confused as they turned to face Narinder. “Really? Thought it was obvious.”

“Enlighten me.”

Lamb rolled their eyes and sighed at this. “I spent my entire life on the move because of the hunts. I never got to call anywhere ‘home’.”

“Why a family though?”

“Well-“ Lamb turned onto their side so they were facing Narinder fully, which he recuperated by doing the same, the two now being face to face as the Lamb continued. “- I never thought I’d be able to have kids, let alone a partner. The herds were dwindling, so it was obvious that I was part of the last generation of sheep.” The Lamb’s gaze drifted, not focusing on anything particular. “It would have also been cruel to bring a child into the world that only wanted them dead.”

“So I used to just daydream about a life I wanted.”

It was quiet for a moment between the two, but the Lamb felt a sense of awkwardness rush over them as they quickly tried to fill the silence. “But uh, yeah. It’s a silly mundane thing to want I guess, especially now.”

Narinder’s expression hadn’t changed, but after a moment he closed his eyes as he in a softer tone than the lamb expected.

“I suppose the mundane wouldn’t be so bad.”

The Lamb’s ears perked up at this, surprised by Narinder’s response. “Is… that something you would have done?”

“Perhaps.” He replied

Silence fell once again between the two, but it was comfortable. The stars had been forgotten as the Lamb gazed at Narinder’s face at rest. It would be a couple hours until the sun would start to peak over the horizon, so the Lamb indulged in the serene moment by closing their eyes, drifting away to one of the most comfortable sleeps they’ve had in a long time.

[baeshijima]

thinking abt big cat mydei who loves to simply lay on you, wrapping his arms around your torso with his head either nestled in the crook of your neck or atop your chest to feel the rhythmic beats of your heart.

he loves the proximity between you, almost melding into one another if he believed hard enough, but what he adores even more is when you play with his hair, your nails lightly scratching his scalp or braiding his hair as he doesn’t even try to fight the sleep which pervades him in moments such as these.

[puhpandas]

i like to think that a couple years post ggy tony still gets caught up in mysteries that he can’t help obsessing over and he tries to rope gregory into his crazy plans to investigate

[sae-mian]

[ c h a s e ]

"Damn. No offense, but you kinda look like shit."

It took every fiber of her willpower not to bolt. She knew better, at this point. You don't turn your back on a predator like him. You don't run.

Lest you get yourself mistaken for prey.

"Come any closer and I'll make you look worse. Offense intended."

He scoffed at the hollow challenge. She couldn't do shit right now, and he knew it. Injured and exhausted, she was spent. Her research had led her to an abandoned Imperial outpost in The Peaks. The area supposedly hadn't been of interest to them in months - it should have been easy. Sneak in, scrape through whatever data they'd left behind, sneak out.

Warnings of her youth trickled through her mind as blood trickled to the cracked stone floor.

Don't venture out alone, 'Khemi. You're easy pickings alone.

It was better this way, she figured. Had her unit been with her, when the group of Imperial scouts came around, unexpected and without warning, many of them may have perished. Maybe not even by Garlean hands.

The cloaked figure perched on the crumbling wall before her hopped down, and she flinched, motion tugging painfully at the wound she was trying to keep pressure on. She put on her best snarl, and he smiled in turn, familiar and twisted in equal measure.

Whether it was good fortune that he'd been there when he had, or a terrible omen, she couldn't be sure. Just as she was getting overwhelmed, mana waning, the bullet had caught her exposed abdomen. And just as she'd wondered if this was it, he had appeared. The spectre of the lochs - this ghost that had been stalking her dreams - descended upon the Imperial unit, ending them with a brutal efficiency.

She had taken the opportunity to make a run for it, taking shelter in a dilapidated storehouse when she felt her legs would carry her no further.

But she had been followed.

Of course she had. This wasn't the first time he had pursued her - though, at this rate, she feared it may be the last.

"You know how to fix it, don't you?"

He was approaching her now. Easily, unwavering, like they were friends. Like he wasn't a monster.

"Leave me alone."

There was a warning in her tone and in her eyes. If he noticed either, he didn't care. He unsheathed one of two blades, gripping it loosely - casual and comfortable.

"Scared? It's okay. I can fix it for you--"

"S-stay away from me!"

Impulsively, she swung her staff out in front of her, bloodied hand almost letting the thing slip. Nothing was cast - but the threat was there, plain as day.

His approach finally faltered.

"Ouch, Emi - that kinda hurts."

"Don't-- don't fucking call me that." she spat, vision swimming from pain and bloodloss.

The man tilted his head - but not in the curious, mock-innocent way she was used to.

"Why?"

"You're not my brother."

Her words were slurred, now, a hushed mumble, fading fast. The clack of her cane hitting the floor rattled around in her head, echoing. In the darkness that followed, she could have been alone, were it not for his voice.

Soothing. Comforting. Terrifying.

"No? Who am I?"

...Ali?

When she woke two days later in her bed at the Reach, she would wonder if he ever got his answer.

[fist-of-vengeance]

thinking about how essentially every relationship john locke formed in the early seasons of lost has completely disintegrated by the time of his death.

of course there's his relationship with jack, which starts tense but manageable and culminates in jack pointing a gun at john's head and pulling the trigger. but even his smaller, less narratively prominent relationships either implode or drift apart. he bonds with walt in season one but then walt leaves the island, which is itself a severing of their bond since it was mainly based on being the only two people who wanted to stay. still, he goes and visits walt off the island so this is probably john's most successful relationship. I dont think i need to explain how he fucked up with boone, "the sacrifice that the island demanded." charlie viewed john as a mentor and claimed to trust him more than anyone on the island, but after the events of fire and water, that trust is destroyed and charlie despises him. at the same time we get john bonding with claire and having a pseudo-paternal dynamic with her, but their closeness basically drops off the face of the earth as he gets less and less involved with the other survivors.

his arc in the series is essentially a gradual distancing from everyone around him. it starts when he abandons hunting (providing for the others) in favor of trying to get the hatch open (it's extremely clear his primary motive isn't any survival applications but getting answers to the mystery). when they do open the hatch, he spends more and more time inside, underground, cut off from other people. he spends more and more time interacting with ben, a human mystery box that he's obsessed with cracking even if it gets him killed. he follows the proverbial white rabbit deeper down the hole and leaves his connection to humanity behind. the island and its mysteries become more important to john than anything or anyone else.

then in season three we get him claiming to go undercover with the others only to unceremoniously tell sawyer that he's actually going to join them. and it doesn't feel shocking, it feels inevitable. because john has spent the entire series becoming less and less connected with the people he arrived with. in that sense he actually makes a fascinating foil to juliet, who is introduced as one of the others and yet never really fits, she's increasingly sympathetic and kind in a way the rest of them aren't, her redemption arc feels so natural that she actually starts referring to her old people as "the others" like she's been one of the crash survivors from the beginning. her and john basically have inverse arcs, which is probably accidental but very neat.

in season five john tries to convince everyone to go back to the island, and fails spectacularly. and of course he does, because he was so consumed by obsession that he stopped maintaining his relationships, and in many cases actively alienated people (this is also basically what happened with helen) and now he can't wrap his head around why they're all so hostile to him. i am forever obsessed with the scene where he confronts kate and she brutally calls him out for wanting to return to the island because he doesn't love anyone. it actually struck me on rewatch how well the two of them got along in season one, and how badly their relationship has degraded by this point. john repeatedly casts aside interpersonal relationships in favor of his obsession with destiny, so when said destiny actually involves persuading the people he once shunned, he's at a loss. this is because john treats purpose as a supplement for connection, destiny as an alternative to love.

as an aside, this aspect of john's character kinda ties into my opinion that several lost characters can be read as allegorically neurdivergent under a certain lens. i know this was absolutely not intended, but as an adhd former gifted kid who struggles socially, there is something uncomfortably familiar about a character who allows their relationships to burn around them because of a single-minded obsession, especially as a result of being promised the fickle status of "special."

tl/dr: john locke is a doomed idiot and i love him

[gothamite-rambler]

Tim: He said it's obvious that Jason only has one night stands.

Bruce spat out his drink, laughing that grew louder to the point he had to place a hand on the counter top.

Bruce: I'm sorry... I'm sorry... It's hahahahahaha!

Jason (offended): Okay, it's not that funny.

Bruce: I care about you Jason and that's how I know you aren't a one night stand man. Oh God it hurts to laugh but it's worth it!

Tim: Where did he even get that idea from?

Jason covered his face with his book, blushing.

Tim: You made him believe that?

Jason: I wanted to look cool! Damn, Bruce stop laughing!

[becca4leafclover]

do you think that when the Ancients all met again after receiving their Soul Jams, White Lily and Pure Vanilla were surprised to find what the other's was embodying?

They've known each other forever. Two lonely souls, two kindred spirits that found each other when there was no one else able to keep up with them. Even though it's been a long time, no one really knew them better than the other.

So when reuniting with the Ancients after many years apart, the other three are joyous and celebratory over their accomplishments. But Pure Vanilla and White Lily instead look to each other with some amount of surprise- and concern, or maybe suspicion, it's hard to say, their expressions aren't equal anymore.

When they get a moment to themselves, it doesn't take long for them to come to the deep topic. Pure Vanilla thinks its curious, that he has what he would have thought would go to her, and her Freedom with him. White Lily agrees, hearing the virtues of these mysterious new powers, she would have thought the same.

She's more worried though. If she embodies Freedom, does that mean she's never going to find the truth she seeks? The one she's spent so long looking for? Pure Vanilla hasn't found it since they left school, has he? Pure Vanilla is puzzled- no, not that he's aware of. He's found... peace. Something he thinks would be better embodied by "Freedom" than "Truth," though he thinks he can see how his understanding might fit under both.

He says that if he's found this Truth, despite not searching for it, he's sure that whatever White Lily finds at the end of her journey, it must be of equal to his revelations.

He offers to explain his enlightenment to her, maybe it will help her? But White Lily refuses- she knows that the answers he's sought and what she seeks are not the same. She thanks him with her deep, sad smile though, the one that he knows is her truly grateful but still yearning. He says that she shouldn't worry- he thinks Freedom suits her well.

Looking back at that conversation, maybe both of them should have realized that neither of them really knew each other after all. They barely even knew themselves in that moment.

[aftg-random-fun]

Kevin, Neil, and Andrew are told by the girls to dress up as the Hex Girls for Halloween, but all fight over who gets to be who in the arrangement. In the end Neil is Thorn, Kevin is Dusk, and Andrew is Luna. Mind you because Neil is a little shit (affectionate) he buys real instruments for their costumes. After they get asked to play multiple times they ruin everyone’s ears with their tone deaf playing.

[voidfanatic]

Tw: Themes of mental illness. (Also, there's spoilers for the new Solarballs episode and possibly broken English).

I watched the new Solarballs episode and like other people have already mentioned, Uranus is NOT doing well.

He's, in my opinion, mentally unwell in a more discret way than other characters like Neptune, Earth and Jupiter. Characters like them, with their memory and identity problems (Neptune), depressive episodes (Earth) and boderline paranoia (Jupiter) are obvious examples of bad mental health overall, but Uranus is there too with them to be honest. He's insecure asf and clearly has a low self-steem, and the new episode really showcased that.

He has like, no principles at all. He doesn't care that the guy who basically acted as an older brother to everyone is now gone (he doesn't seem conflicted about what Jupiter did, he just... got over it) and he doesn't mind X basically bullying Saturn (even though Saturn became his friend in the searching for Neptune arc). Don't get me wrong, X has all of the right reasons to be mean to those two, but Uranus really doesn't. He doesn't care unlike Neptune because X is going to give him what he wants: recognition, respect, -atention-. That's what he wants.

Because he's just known as the "stinky planet", the "one with the funny name" and probably discount Saturn. His social skills are lackluster, his only friends are the guy who is better than him and his honorary cousin who is gone like 50% of the time. For heavens sake, they don't even have that much in common. And we can't forget that he doesn't even get to say anything about the "big matter at the moment" a majority of the time. He's irrelevant not because he thinks he is, he's irrelevant because he actually is. That's why he acts like an asshole sometimes (wich I'm not justifying, I'm just stating the reasons) just to get validation.

And, personally, I like this direction. Sure, it won't work if Solarballs keeps refusing to give him his own arc or at least make him more relevant overall, but I do think it fits him.

[loz-chainsofcorruption]

"I'm going to compile my mini fics into ao3," I said with joys

I then wrote and uploaded a chapter of a glitches taken (semi) seriously Linked Universe crackfic instead

Read A Complete Disregard for Physics (and Warriors' Sanity) on ao3

[elizakai]

do you guys ever have multiple projects or tasks you need to finish and have been putting off but the demotivation/depressive wave hits like a truck whenever you think about it? so you either can’t work on anything else out of stress, or you work on everything else out of a need to justify your own inability to do the original task?

ANYONE??? SOBBBBBB

[somanypetals]

just a theatre kid and her guard dog

[considerablyworse]

I haven't looked at my ideas list in forever ts took me out so I thought I'd share. what the hell does (death awww) mean