#El's little stories

[elslittlestories]

Will it ever be enough?

The Bad Batch fanfiction - Hunter x Gender neutral Reader (You)

Words count: 4,7k Read on AO3

This is an edited and extended version of "The morning after" 3-parts series I posted before.

Summary: Hunter goes into crisis after spending the night with you...You both try to work this out.

A reflection around sensory issues and asexual relationships, so not your typical romance!

In my AU, Tech survived and they all live happy on Pabu.

Warning: discussion of sex, but nothing explicit. I'd say it's okay for teen audiences.

I experimented with the second person writing and mixing two internal POV.

1 – The morning after

Slowly, Hunter lifts your arm from his waist and slips out of the bed, careful not to wake you up. A sigh of relief escapes him as he closes your bedroom door and he makes his way outside of your house. Your porch is a perfect spot to enjoy the morning light rising above the ocean. The fresh air helps relax his muscles.

If Tech were here, he’d say that Hunter learned something about himself and that’s enough to make last night’s experience worthy. Hunter’s not so sure. Well, it’s more that he’s not happy about what he found out. He can’t sleep with someone. At least not if that someone spoons him like you did all night.

It sorts of amazes him how this was the first time he ever had somebody in his bed. But he just spent sleepless hours thinking about it and couldn’t remember one. There wasn’t any mission in which they were forced to sleep against each other and he never had the opportunity, nor the envy, to get in bed with a stranger.

Sure, he held his brother until they fell asleep a bunch of times when they were kids, but he’d always sneak away to go back to his bunk. Omega has dozed off against him a bunch of times, but then he’d put her in her own bed. Beside he was mostly clothed and never really had to endure that skin to skin sensation. The stickiness of it.

Hunter shivers. No, last night was definitely a first. A first time for a lot of things…

He’s still not sure how it all happened. One minute he was dancing with you at a beach party—Omega had talked both of you into it—the next you were kissing him. He froze, brain gone blank, but everybody started to cheer around you, so he went on autopilot mode and mirrored you. And to be fair, the kisses were nice. As long as it was dry lips pressing against each other, that is.

Thanks to Tech never shutting up about the things he does with Phee, Hunter is aware of how romantic relationship are supposed to work. Although, he didn’t know it could go from kissing to have sex in one evening, unless it was one of those hook-ups in a bar some of the regs were bragging about.

You must have gotten caught up in the moment and he rolled with it, just like he does with any new social interaction he’s presented. If everyone is so keen about sexual intercourse, he figured it ought to give it a try. Now that he’s done it, he doesn’t understand what’s so thrilling about the whole ordeal.  

He flexes his fingers as another shiver ripples over his body. There’s a reason he wears gloves nearly all the time: he and textures have never been close friends… And last night had a lot of new textures! He trembles violently, the sour taste of disgust coming back to him. Closely followed by shame.

It was hard not to push you away, to go through it without having a full-on meltdown. Something tells him he shouldn’t be reacting like this. That it might hurt your feelings. But then he remembers the way your tongue felt in his mouth and shudders.

He can feel it coming. The overload. His skin itches. He wants to strip off the little clothes he has on. Maybe diving in the ocean would sooth him? The waist band of his briefs is digging into his flesh. A breeze of wind moves his hair, they brush his nape like a thousand shards.

He leaps to his feet, jaw clenched, hands frantically brushing his hair away from his neck. He needs that bath. Now! He only realizes he’s walking when the ground under his feet changes from the wood boards of your porch to the uneven gravel of the alley.

At some point during his descent toward the shore, he wonders if he should have left you a note, but the idea of turning around is sickening. He scratches the back of his neck. The feeling of his own sweat on his skin makes his want to rip it off.

In the far, Pabu’s port wakes up, but otherwise he encounters nobody. Thank the stars! He couldn’t find the energy to even nod if he met someone. Might even get violent if they so much as slow him down.

His bare feet hit the sand, a signal for his brain that he’s almost there. His chest tightens in anticipation, and he runs the last strides. A wave crashes on his ankles, he suppresses a moan, pulse racing. Two more steps and he’s thigh high in the ocean. That’ll do. He dives.

The pressure and cold of the water on his skin give him the expected respite, but already his lungs are screaming for air. He surfaces up, half blinded by hair clinging to his face. In a mess of harsh, uncoordinated movements, he pushes on his feet to get into deeper water and kicks his briefs off. This time he takes a long breath before diving and let the ocean cradle him. The itchiness turns into a light tingle, like he can feel his blood rushing to every bit of his flesh. He swims furthers, dives deeper to get more pressure, until his body feels under control.

The sun is floating over the horizon by then. Hunter knows he should go back to your place before you wake up. Part of him wished you were just a one-night thing, so that he could pretend he doesn’t care about any of this. But you’re a dear friend to him, have been for a while now. He cares about you. In ways he can’t quite grasp for all he knows, Omega aside, is brotherhood and soldiers’ comradery.

Shame creeps back into his chest as he swims toward the beach. What is he going to do? What is he going to tell you? He stands up when he reaches shallow waters and slowly makes his way to the deserted beach. The feeling of his skin drying out under the morning sun keeps his mind somewhat calm until he hears footsteps coming his way.

He tenses, senses in alert. It’s a light sound, they’re barefooted and alone. Most likely you. A glance back tells him his briefs are drifting out of reach. He’d give anything to have Wrecker’s easiness with public nudity right now!

“I figured you might need this,” you chuckle as you appear around the pile of rocks boarding the beach with a towel.

You have the decency to look at his face while he reaches for the cloth. He thanks you with a smile, despite the knots twisting his guts. You wait for him to secure the towel around his waist before you step in and wrap your arms around his neck with a:

“Good morning, handsome.”

You gently pull him into a kiss, pecking his lips. He complies passively, his cheeks burning up.

“I wouldn’t mind finding my bed empty every morning if it means being treated with that sight,” you add.

From the way you modulate your tone, he’s not sure if you mean his fluster or his nakedness. His confusion prevents him for anticipating what comes next and he can’t suppress a recoil when your tongue darts on him, asking for a deeper kiss. Whatever confidence you had until now vanishes from your face as you take a step back. Hunter mentally curses himself.

“Is something wrong,” you ask.

You seem more worried that sad or angry, which will hopefully work in his favor.

“I— Uh… I’m sorry, I…”

Too many words come at once to his mind and none of them reach his mouth. The pounding of his heart doesn’t help. He feels hot and cold at the same time, chest heavy, palms sweaty. You take another step back.

“Let me guess,” you say, bitter, “last night was a mistake? Just a one-night stand, maybe?”

Hunter opens his mouth, but he doesn’t know what to say. It does feel like a mistake, something he’s not looking forward to doing again. He compels himself to answer something and musters an unconvincing “No.”

“Don’t bother, it’s okay,” you wave him off.

This time the hurt is clear on your face and it’s a stab right to his chest.

“I should have known this was too good to be true,” you keep on, already turning away. “Guys like you don’t go out with someone like me.”

He should catch you, pull you into a kiss and pretend everything’s okay, if only to stop you from thinking you’re not worthy of him. He could, part of him wants to, but he doesn’t. He’s completely lost. He needs more time to think this through and avoid doing more damage. For now, maybe he deserves your spite…

As you climb back home, your anger swells, hot in your belly, tight in your chest. It’s hard to tell who you resent the most, Hunter or yourself. You slam your front door and pace around the living room, desperate to blow off some steam before you explode.

Cleaning should help. You pick up your top from the couch where you scattered it last night. Hunter’s shirt is tangled with it. Your heart shrinks. Tears threaten to escape your eyes. You’re so hopelessly in love with him…

No! You hate him! He deserves none of you pain! He wasn’t even good in bed, rumors had it all wrong about him. It wouldn’t surprise you if this was his first time. Blast, he probably thought he could use you for practice and discard you like trash!

You gather all his stuff, trembling with rage, and shove it all at the end of the pathway leading to your house. You don’t want to see him ever again! No matter what that small voice in the back of your head says.

2 – The week after

Hunter stands at your front door, staring at you while he waits for your answer.

“You’ve got some nerves,” you say.

It’s been a week since that party on the beach, the kiss you shared and…everything else. Maybe asking you to go for a walk—like he has done so many times since you met, like nothing happened… Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea after all. But he’s not ready to give up.

“Can we just talk?”

You huff, intrigued despite yourself. After all, he’s here, and he does look sorry. You refuse to let hope take over you, but you step away from the door to let Hunter in. He follows you and you both sat across the kitchen table.

“I wanted to apologize,” says Hunter with a slight quaver in his voice.

“Took you long enough,” you can’t help but grouch.

Although it doesn’t bring you the sense of revenge you were looking for. You hate to admit it, but you’ve missed him and part of you is happy he came.

“I know…I needed it. I left Pabu for a few days.”

“So I’ve heard. Omega said you and Tech had some errand to run.”

“We visited some friends. A married couple.”

Hunter pauses, hands fidgeting, before he adds, “For advice.”

The leap your heart makes in your chest makes you dizzy. This time, there’s no stopping the foolish hope that he might love you after all.

“You needed advice from a married couple,” you repeat.

“I…wanted to figure out if what I was feeling was uh…more than friendship?”

Again, his voice gives away his fluster. The contrast with his confident stance is unsettling.

“…and?” you breathe out.

“And…I—Hum…Are you sure you don’t want to take a walk?”

At this point Hunter can’t look your way and his body feels so restless he fears it might trigger another meltdown. He thought he’d taken every precaution to avoid it by wearing his most comfortable clothes and keeping his gloves on. This time it’s not over his senses that he’s losing control.

You take pity on him and agree to follow him outside. Your heart is throbbing, you could use some fresh air. Without a word, you head down toward the beach, keeping an awkward distance between you.

“I don’t understand what’s going on,” you say, making an effort of keeping your tone gentle.

Motion is already starting to ease Hunter’s edginess and when he starts speaking again, his voice is more gathered. What he struggles with is organizing his thoughts…

“It’s really important to me that you get that you are not the problem here. The reason I rejected you—it’s got nothing to do with you. I never wanted to make you feel like you didn’t deserve me. Anyone would be lucky to have you. Not that I want you to go with somebody else. Well, unless you want to. I’m not trying to force you into anything. I know I hurt and I’m sorry. So sorry.”

“Are you trying to say you…want to be with me?”

The words seem even more foolish said out loud, but your pulse is racing and every part of your body tingles. Your mind is already filling up the blanks for him. He must have panicked because it was his first time. A theory you forbade yourself to think about until now.

“Well, I—…I like you.”

It takes every last bit of control in you for not tripping on the sand.

“I would love to share something with you,” he adds, flexing his hands. “But…”

“Ah,” you say with the wrong kind of butterflies in your stomach. “Here comes the but.”

Hunter looks at you, broken. He searches carefully for his words, toes digging into the sand for anchor.

“I don’t think I’m fit for this kind of relationship.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” you ask, your annoyance rising up again.

“I—…I can’t sleep with somebody.”

You stop dead. This discussion is reaching a level of confusion you would never have expected! Hunter turns around to face you, cheeks pink and eyes avoidant.

“Sleep, as in sleep? Or the naughty one,” you hear yourself asking without thinking.

“Er…both? It’s uh…I struggle with the skin on skin contact.”

“And you only found out now?”

“Well, I didn’t have much experience with that until the other night.”

His face takes a darker shade. You can’t believe your ears.

“Nobody ever touched you? Not even a hug?”

“I was always wearing clothes.” Hunter shrugs.

The reality of this man’s life fully sinks into you. Your throat tightens as you try to imagine a child growing up without ever truly feeling the direct warmth of someone else against him.

“Is it okay if I hug you now?”

His eyes widened and you decide you don’t need his permission. You pull him against you and squeeze hard when you feel his arms closing around you.

“That’s so sad,” you whisper.

“It’s no big deal, really,” he replies with an uneasy pat on your back.

You step back, surprised to find your sight blurred.

“This kind of hug works just fine for me,” he smiles.

“Is it because of your enhanced sense?”

“That’s Tech’s theory, yes. I’ve always had issues with touch and texture.”

“Oh…”

There’s a silence as you take the news in and link the dots with your memories from that night, the fact that he never seemed to fully be touching you. Not in the way you were craving for him to touch you.

Hunter resumes walking, you catch up with him to ask:

“How does it feel? The…sensory issues.”

He sighs and doesn’t answer right away.

“Like staring at the sun but you can’t close your eyes.”

Mindlessly, you look up at the sky and squint at the brightness. Something twist inside you.

“So you didn’t have a good time, did you?”

“Not really, no,” he answers with a silent apology.

It makes your guilt flare up.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought I could just tough it out.”

“That’s not how it’s supposed to work. We’re supposed to both enjoy ourselves!”

Hunter stares in the far and quietly says: “I’ve never been interested in that, to be honest.”

You frown.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“My friend warned me this pill might be the hardest to swallow,” he makes himself joke.

“I mean, have you seen yourself in a mirror?”

It’s his time to frown, so you add:

“You’re hot, Hunter. Half of Pabu must be fantasizing about you and you’re telling you have zero interest in- in- in…the thing!”

He rubs the back of his neck with a chuckle. He never quite understood what people saw in him in that regard, but his brothers have made him aware of it in various teasing ways. Until now he just didn’t realize the fact that he never ever reciprocated the attraction was unusual.

“But wait! What about kissing?”

He winces. You catch it.

“I don’t mind the…closed-lip ones,” he says as gently as he can, aware he’s close to hurting your feelings.

“You don’t mind them,” you repeat slowly.

While your broken ego whales about your inability to entice desire in a man, you’re more concerned about having forced Hunter into something he clearly didn’t want to do. The question escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“Was there anything at all you enjoyed that night?”

He gives you another of his apologetic, sad puppy look and you feel sick.

“But…” you add, “you were…hard.”

“I mean, the machinery is working.”

Somehow, his answer makes it even worst.

“And to be honest, I was expected something to kick in at some point, but…it just never came.”

He notices how pale you are and quickly adds:

“It wasn’t so bad. I wanted to give you a good time, though I’m not sure I did a good job with that…”

“First times are meant to be messy, but I wasn’t expecting to force you into yours!”

Hunter takes your wrist and waits for your eyes to meet his before uttering:

“Hey, you didn’t force me into anything. I overestimated my abilities and chose to go through with it anyway, so that’s not on you, okay?”

You nod, giddy from his strong aura and the feeling of his gloved hand on your skin.

“This sucks,” you mumble.

He let go of your arm.

“Tell me about it…”

You walk in silence until you reach the end of the beach and turn around. Hunter wouldn’t mind sprinting away, if only to get rid of the tensions in his body. He’s never felt more exposed in his entire life.

“Maybe I should give you some space to process all of this,” he says hesitantly.

“Yeah…”

“I— Uh…I’ll just go, then.”

He means to add he’ll miss you, but he doesn’t. After one last look and a shy smile, he bolts away. The run does help a little, but he’s got a burning question on the tip of his tongue, and he knows he won’t find rest until you’ve answered it. He speeds up, waiting for the rush of endorphins to wash over him and take away the dread that you might not want to see him for a while…

Another week passes during which you drive yourself crazy with projections and conjectures. Can you bear to stay friends with Hunter when you still love him? Can you live a fulfilled romance without sex? Can you make him more comfortable with physical touch so that eventually you do have sex? The last one makes you sick of yourself. You know all too well it wouldn’t be fair to him to hope he’ll change for you. Especially since he doesn’t seem to have any control on the issue.

Your friend has taken pity of you and dragged you to Pabu’s flower market before you drown in your own thoughts. She’s been advocating for you to turn the page and move on, arguing that you deserve better. You wish it could be that simple…

It’s her annoyed huff that gets you to notice a familiar face in the crowd. You weren’t expecting to see Hunter here! Nor the intensity of your body’s reaction. You’ve missed him so much!

You used to see each other several times a week, whether it’d be for evening walks or because Omega invited you to whatever activities they had planned. She and you have formed a close bond and you find real pride in the fact that she often comes to you for advice.

Of course, she is the reason Hunter is at the market. He’s holding a couple of plants in one side, Omega’s hand in the other. His eyes dart to you a few times. You can’t decide if you want him to come over or not. You haven’t made your decision yet!

Your friend pulls you into another alley and you lose sight of him. Your chest tightens. You’ve had break-ups before, you know the feeling of grieving a relationship. This is different. This feels like missed opportunity and regrets.

The next day, you find yourself standing in front of the batch’s home, shaking. The door opens on Hunter and you can hear music playing loud inside. Your first thought is that they’re having some sort of party, but a glance at the floor of the entrance tells you otherwise. There are no shoes scattered around, which means everybody is out.

Hunter shifts his weight to one leg, edgy. His hand is clasped on the doorknob, his heart pounding. You stare at each other in a heavy silence, eyes slightly wider than usual.

“Do you wanna go for a walk,” you finally ask.

He flinches.

“We don’t have to talk about us or anything,” you add quickly. “I just…”

‘Miss your company,’ is what you want to say. You hope he gets it. From the way his voice shiver when he answers “Yes,” you think he does.

3- The year after

You stand by your couch, a mug of caff in one hand, the over, covering your mouth as you yawn. In front of you, Hunter is yawning too. He rubs the sleep off his eyes and takes the mug with a thanks. You sit next to him, legs hug tight against your chest, and pull the blanket over you. It’s warm from Hunter’s body heat, smells like him.

He spreads out an arm over the couch behind you, props his foot, socks askew, on the low table and sips his caff in silence. From an open window, the sound of birds chirping and waves crashing fills the room. If you listen closely, you can also hear the fisherman coming back from their night out and unloading at the port.

You rest your chin on your covered knees, enjoying Hunter’s presence. You’re not sure how this became a habit, but every time he finds himself alone at home, he comes crashing at your place. You walk on the beach, grad dinner, watch some holovids and he sleeps on the couch. You sigh in content.

The peaceful moment is interrupted by Hunter’s commlink buzzing from the little pile of things he dropped on the low table yesterday evening. A set of keys, a small wallet where he keeps his change and a couple of pictures and, of course, the everlasting vibroblade.

Hunter grunts and pushes himself up to grad the commlink. His hand grazes over your shoulder.

“What is it Tech?” he asks, his voice still raspy with sleep.

“Morning Hunter. Is Omega awake? She isn’t answering her com.”

“She’s having a sleepover at Lyana’s. Why?”

“Oh, right. Never mind then.”

Hunter pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Tech, we’ve talked about this a hundred times. If this is another treasure quest with Phee, you need to consult me first, then Omega.”

“Right, right. I’ll send you the briefing and see that we reschedule departure for later today.”

Hunter sighs.

“No. You’re not.”

“You could at least wait to read—”, starts Tech without hiding his annoyance.

“It doesn’t matter. She’s got school tomorrow, so unless you can guarantee you’ll be back by 8 sharp, she’s not going.”

Before Tech can argue, Hunter ends the communication and flops back against you. You pat him on the thigh, suppressing a laugh.

“You’ve got this, Daddy!”

He shoots you a tired glare but the corner of his mouth hints the beginning of a smile. You fight against the urge to lean over and kiss him. A few months back, the frustration would have made you get up and busy yourself in the kitchen. You’re getting better at this. You want to. This friendship is the best thing you’ve had in a long time.

“Do you have plans for today,” asks Hunter after he emptied his mug and put it on the table.

“Nothing special.”

He turns to you with a full smile.

“I’m thinking of taking Omega and Lyana at sea. Crosshair found a spot where those green rays like to gather, if you wanna join…”

He stands up and stretch. He’s still uneasy when asking you out, but if the girls are here, it’ll feel less like a date.

“Sure!”

You plan your day over a breakfast that Hunter helped you set up and you agree to meet him at the port in an hour.

“Unless you want to come pick up the girls with me,” he adds tentatively.

“I’d love that,” you hear yourself answering too loudly. “It’s on my way if I am to get some take away for lunch at Polly’s anyway. Then, we can all choose what we want to eat.”

Hunter flashes you an earnest smile, heart beating loud. This is all he ever wanted. A simple domestic life.

“Just give me time to shower and change,” he says. “I’ll send you a message when I’m ready.”

You nod and before you can stop yourself you add:

“You know, you could leave a change of clothes here, and I can make room in the refresher for…”

Your voice trails off, heat coming up your face. You can’t read the look on Hunter’s.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. “I don’t mean to push you.”

He reaches you to put his hands on each of your arms. He’s awfully aware the two of you are walking on a tightrope, careful not to tip over.

“I just don’t want you to get your hopes too high.”

“I know,” you mutter.

He hesitates for a split second and pulls you into a hug. You sigh and lean against him.

“I like having you here,” you say.

“I like being here.”

In your head, he lifts your chin and gives you a passionate kiss. Your loins tingle.

“But I can’t give you everything you want,” he says, breaking the charm.

You bite your lips, squeeze yourself tighter on his chest until it feels like his heart is beating in yours. The tingle comes back. A reminder of what he’s asking you to let go. But then you never had trouble taking care of yourself. You’d be doing him no harm entertaining your fantasies by yourself while he’s out getting a shower. Everything else has been so good so far, it’s not a hard price to pay.

You take a step back, find his eyes and utter:

“I still want to give it a try.”

The smile that stretches his lips is shy at first, but it grows wider as his eyes get shinier. He takes your wrist up and bends over to kiss the back of your hand. His voice shivers when he says, “Thank you.”

 You pull him into another hug, short but tight, then usher him outside. Hunter stays on your porch a little longer, staring in the far, still smiling. Content. Maybe you two can make it work after all…Then he remembers he needs to snatch Omega before Tech or Phee get the chance to enroll her in their treasure hunt and he sprints home.

I hope you enjoyed it !

If you feel like it, let me know what you think about it.

[cnl0400]

What's even the point in Thirteen making traps If she isn't going to use them on anybody?

She doesn't even try to kill Solomon anymore, they got rid of all her more """"problematic"""" features (AKA she was "too mean" or whatever). The difference between S4/OG!Thirteen and NB! Thirteen are night and day

[florallylly]

completely idiotic concept but zookeepers stobin who mainly deal with the penguins but the penguins are the party who are the penguins of madagascar. does this make sense.... and yes i only mean the four boys like max and el are regular people

[sansnomp4]

I ended up doing the sequel to the Evil!Kon and Tim Drake universe. Context:  It is the continuation of this comic.  Kon captured Tim and took him to the Evil! Supers. He has to interrogate him to know the plans of the Batfamily... But he can't help flirting...in music.

[bisupergirl]

constantly thinking about where kara would be at today if she had been allowed to transition into new earth continuity along with everyone else after COIE (and if pre-crisis kara wasn't stripped for parts and tossed aside for the benefit of other characters)...

[ace-and-ranty]

hello! Just finished the entirety of the scholomance trilogy in a few days (and am currently paying for it with Sleep Deprivation Headache) but like. A concept I haven’t seen get spoken about yet is the manner in which outcomes and such get played with, but like. I don’t know, the idea of another entity contriving circumstances that will ultimately result in a good or at least better outcome but first someone has to be totally miserable for a little while, and when it’s over you can’t even complain because said entity was completely right and you couldn’t have gotten there without it. It’s what happened with El with the school and the prophecy, and also probably what Ophelia was going for with Orion

Oh yes, El's and Deepthi's dynamics is profoundly tragic in that way. I think it really says something for El's family that Deepthi doesn't expect El to not complain later. She did what she did fully prepared for her grandson (El's grandpa) to hate her forever because of it, and at the end of the book it's implied neither El's grandparents, Gwen or El have forgiven her, exactly, they are all just willing to try and be a family.

It is still very, very deeply tragic, and I think it falls within a bigger theme in the series and specially in The Golden Enclaves, which is the legacies that children inherit. In a way everyone in the world is born burdened by their parents' choices. They do what they think is best for us when we just aren't old enough to decide... and for good or for worse, we gotta learn to live with those choices. Deepthi is is just an extreme magical version of it.

Like how El is called "a burdened soul" in the prophecy? She didn't choose to be the weight the universe threw to balance Ophelia's dark magic, she didn't choose to be born to parents who wanted to build Golden Enclaves... and through the book she decides, yeah, maybe she didn't fully choose to receive the Golden Sutras, it was an inheritance from her parents, but she decides she loves them anyway.

On the other hand you have, for example, Liu, who was born to the dream of Enclave building, and who was crumbling under the pressure of it, who decides, actually, she is going to be part of this legacy her way: she won't use malia and she won't stay conveniently in the closet. And Naomi mentioned, in her TGE AMA, that what will really help Liu heal is the fact that ultimately, when push came to shove, her immediate family firmly chose her over the dream of an Enclave.

And then you have Orion as well, GOOD GOD, who was an instrument of his parents' legacy much before he was a child, who was LITERALLY crushed to mawmouth jelly under their expectations.

It's all just variations on the same theme, that children have to contend with legacies they just happened to be born into.

You know, LOL. Speaking of this. Funny story. When I was in high school, my mother had to drag me, kicking and screaming, to my English classes because I did NOT want to go. Now?. Now I work translating English/Portuguese.

"Another entity contriving circumstances that will ultimately result in a good or at least better outcome but first someone has to be totally miserable for a little while, and when it’s over you can’t even complain because said entity was completely right and you couldn’t have gotten there without it"? That's me. That's me and English classes. Mom will never let me forget how right she was about it hahahahahaha.

[evilherehotel]

guys. guys the similarities. guys listen to me

[lighthouseas]

i think it's pretty genius how st3 satirizes the american dream and how its constraints inadvertently caused the downfall of hawkins but some of you aren't ready to hear that

[skeletal-butterflyy]

Actually I think el only had bad outfits when she was trying to be “normal” and fit into societal standards. In s3 she was having fun with max and learning to be herself and her outfits were great, but at the beginning of season 4 she’s trying to do/be who she thinks she SHOULD be instead of who she is, hence the less than aesthetically pleasing outfits. Same goes for mike actually, that horrendous mess he was wearing when he arrives in california is what he thinks he SHOULD be wearing instead of what he would actually want to wear.

[elslittlestories]

First prompt of Neurodivergent Tech week is "Cadet Batch" so enjoy this little snippet of a fanfiction I've been thinking about for ages but can't get going... Plus a cute companion fanart of baby Tech ans baby Wrecker 🥰

AZ let the next batch of children in and I hurried to them. Five clones stood in a messy line. They had already lost most of their childish roundness. Soon, their batch would be ready to move out to the next building and start proper training.

“Nurse Dita, look!” one of the boys called out enthusiastically, pointing at a mingle of wire and leds on the side of his face.

I sighed, more amused than annoyed. This was very typical of Tech.

“Honey, what did we say about messing with your glasses?”

“Technically, I am improving them! I can record what I see now,” Tech bragged. “Would you like to know how I did it?”

“Ugh, nobody cares!” shouted another kid, which earned him to be shoved by Wrecker, an unusually large boy standing next to him.

It took me a moment to get the children to calm down. While AZ began their blood sampling, I kneeled in front of Tech.

“I do care. I need to check the evolution of your eyesight today, you can tell me all about it then.”

He grinned, shifting on his feet with excitement. Next to him, Wrecker was making a face and closing his eyes as the medical droid reached him and asked that he hold out his hand. I moved toward him, produced a blue bandage from my pocket and placed it over the boy’s hand where the droid just withdraw blood. There was no need for it, there was barely a mark on his skin, but it never failed to make hum feel better. The box of Band-Aids wasn’t provided by the Kaminoans, obviously.

“There you go, Big boy.”

“Whoa!” he marveled, “I never had a blue one before!”

I ruffled his short hair, made sure the samples were all secured in the tray, data from the scans already popping up on the screen of thé workstation, and allowed the kids to leave.

“Except you, honey.”

Tech didn’t need to be told to stay, he was already sitting at the optical bench, his glasses in his hands, legs bouncing with anticipation. I chuckled and got starter on the scanner as Tech began his exposé...

[bloodychazorite]

Q!SLIME HEADCANONS N’ SHORT STORIES!!

(These are all the headcanons I use in my current fic and will probably use for my future fics, in case you’re curious!! :))

So, first, I don’t think Charlie is any bit human at all. I think he’s full, pure-bred slime with a Core that gives him sentience. The Core is a heart shaped, made of enchanted ruby and plated in gold around the edges. 

During the time he was a God in the SCU (Slimecicle Cinematic Universe) he had three (That’s an incredibly long story that I may actually write one day so this is all you get for now). Now, he’s been reincarnated with one, sentient ever since. However, he’s full slime, nothing human about him. Without the Core, he’d just be straight slime. He’s probably one of the—if not just the only—sentient Slimes there is.

His skin scars because when he’s hurt enough, he needs to get more slime to repair himself. The slime isn’t his, however, so it doesn’t match his body completely for a while while it blends together.

Another type of scarring that can happen to him would be dehydration cracks. If he loses enough water, his slime will crack in a lightning-strike type pattern. It takes a while for those to go away as well, just because they need time to fill in.

Yes, he has bones, but he doesn’t need them. He has them because they make it so that he can keep his shape. When he was Gegg, he’d keep some but give the rest to Quackity for safe keeping.

 

“Where’s my left arm?” Charlie asked, digging through the bag Quackity kept on him.

The other only shuffled his foot back and forth, mumbling gently. He bit his lip as he spoke. “I needed food, man.”

“So?”

“So all I had was seeds and currently unused bones.”

A beat of silence, before a slow, creaking head turn. 

“You used my bones for bone meal.” His voice was flat and his lips were pinched. “Are you deadass?”

“Just kill another skeleton man! I needed food!”

Charlie threw up the melty stub where his left arm should’ve been, waving it back and forth and dripping goo all over the ground.

“Do you know how fucking hard it is to find intact skeletons that will fit perfectly with the one that I currently have?! And that have five fingers?!”

Quackity rolled his eyes, shrinking in on himself. “Uh...No..?”

Charlie smushed slime into his face and laughed at his dramatic screaming. “It is incredibly fucking hard!”

Charlie keeps bones on him most of the time, in case he breaks the ones he’s got. Sometimes they take a minute to get used to, some of them too big or too long or too small, but it happens nonetheless. It’s also the reason he takes any fall damage ever. Without the bones, he wouldn’t take any fall damage. Those bones also determine his general height. If he wanted to be taller, he could find/construct a taller skeleton and get more slime.

Slimes are naturally acidic at a certain level at all times. However, with prompting, his level of acidity will rise. Prompting can look like danger, or threats. It can also be emotional, with extreme rage or sadness, the works.

“Oh no, not today fucker!” Mariana screamed as Slime tried to step outside during another argument. His skin dripped from the agitation but Mariana couldn’t care less.

Slime attempted to brush past him, breath heavy. “I’ll be right back,” He mumbled, "I need to go.”  

He stepped to the left, Mariana doing the same. 

Then, to the right, where she followed once again.

“Move your ass, I need to go now.”

“Hell no, you will stay and we will talk this out.”

Slime shoved past her, briskly rushing for the door. Mariana, wings twitching in agitation, whipped around and grabbed his wrist.

He smelled the burning before he felt it.

Before the white, lava hot seer hit his senses.

She nearly cried out in pain, staggering backward and scraping her skin against the hardwood as she fell. Scrambling into the wall, she groaned in agony and grasped the wrist of the suffering palm.

“Fuck- oh, fuck!” 

Slime was right in front of him, suddenly, knelt with fear in his eyes. “Fuck, I am so sorry, I can’t control it I swear, I would never do that shit on purpose—” He rambled as Mariana writhed, swearing in shock and pain.

Her vision swam as she sobbed. 

“I swear, I-I can’t… control it.”

He’s burnt a few holes in the floors before.

All in his slime, there are acid glands everywhere. 

Because he’s got acid literally built into his system, the bones he’s got tend to break down after a while. Depending on how emotional or just how much he purposely activates his acid secretion, they could last from anywhere around two weeks to a month, usually. That’s what the skeleton in his basement is for, an extra set of bones. 

Slime’s are the closest things to aquatic creatures without actually being aquatic. Being naturally drawn and attracted to moist environments, he can’t breathe underwater, but he doesn’t actually need to breathe so I guess it doesn’t matter. When swimming, he creates fins to help. The only reason he drowns is because he takes in too much water and becomes so liquidy that he just… dies, I dunno LMAOO

Being generally docile creatures, living either underground or in swamps, most Slimes have shit eyesight. They mostly rely on vibrations in the ground and auditory sensory input. Great hearing, terrible sight. Slimes are also ambush predators! They’re slow, but they’ll eat anything. If looking for meat, they’ll hide under the soil and wait for the vibrations of something with four legs. 

“And where’s Charlie? I wanted to talk to him.” Phil asked as he stepped outside. “He said he’d be here.”

Roier, Cellbit, and himself had all been in Mariana’s house for a while now—Phil being there under the assumption that Charlie would be there. 

Mariana shrugged and glanced around. “Ehh, somewhere.”

Then Juanaflippa sprinted forward and stopped on the open ground, jumping up and down. Her tiny feet pattered the ground as she skipped in circles around the open area. Bobby tilted his head in response before Richas yanked him towards the 

Phil looked to Mariana for a look of mild amusement to say it was normal, or a look of confusion to make him feel like he wasn’t going insane because—even for Flippa—this wasn’t exactly typical from his perspective.

To Phil’s surprise, however, he stepped a bit forward and began to rhythmically tap his heel against the soil. 

“Fuck-!” His heart found itself in his feet as something squeezed tight around his ankle, holding firm as he jumped away. He grabbed for a weapon as a light green hand pulled further from the ground.

A wrist, an arm, a… a goo monster.

A goo monster holding a suspiciously familiar pair of glasses.

“...Charlie?!”

His body tied itself back together, becoming more and more recognizable. They stared at each other for a minute.

“I swear I was aiming for Roier.”

Charlie, because of the core, has much better morphing and shape shifting abilities than normal Slimes. With enough observation he could literally be anyone. He’d looked at Juanaflippa so much that his Gegg looked a bit like her. The people he spends a lot of time looking at are the people he can most easily imitate.

“So you can just look… however you want?” Fit asked 

“Uh-huh.” Slime replied offhandedly, focusing on the little craft they were working on for Richas’s half birthday.

Neither of them had ever heard of a half birthday before then.

“Without effort? You don’t even have to like… try?” 

Sue him, Fit was incredibly curious. Sentient Slimes just didn’t exist, Slime was the only one he knew and would probably ever know.

He became even more curious (and slightly defensive) as Slime began to stare at him, an expression of scrutiny behind his gaze.

Then, a familiar lopsided grin and covered his face for a minute. A sloppy squishing sound resounded from behind his hands that made Fit wince.

The taller gasped as Slime’s face became uncovered.

Fit’s own face stared back at him, with only a few uncanny details astray.

“Christ, Slime! You just keep that ability all to yourself? Do you know how much trouble you could cause with that?!” He all but yelled.

Slime laughed, shifting his face back to its normal appearance. He winked before turning his head back to the project.

“Who’s to say I haven’t caused any trouble?”

Fit—from that day on—lived in fear of the people the Slime could be.

Charlie is all types of temperature sensitive. It's crazy.

Too hot, he’ll get all melty and struggle to hold his form. Leave his bones behind him and become a puddle.

 Too dry, he’ll dehydrate and crack up. It’s incredibly painful, which is why slimes tend to stick around damp, humid areas.

 Too cold, he’ll freeze, becoming a literal Slimecicle. Just like hypothermia, his fingertips, toes, and nose will turn a shade of blue first, eventually infecting the rest of his body. Also hella painful.

A good tactic if you really wanted to torture a Slime, stick them in the cold. They wouldn’t be able to stretch or morph after a while, it'll hurt like hell, and you get to decide how bad it is. GOOD STUFF

A 60 to humid 70 degrees Fahrenheit is generally ideal. The island tends to run a bit higher than that, but it’s not too extreme of a shift so he’s generally okay with some extra water.

Haha, he picked Eggxile in a place that was out of his comfort zone, just cause he knew he didn’t deserve comfort. He sent himself to a place that was too hot and too dry for a Slime. That's fun.

Uhh, that’s really all I can think of for right now, but I’ll repost this anytime I add to it :DD If you’ve got any headcanons you wanna talk about or you wanna talk about mine, please do!! I’ll literally talk for hours, you have no idea

LOVE YOU BYEE <33

[jargyles]

GHOSTFACE!JANCY FIC FOR YA!

my rule for kinktober was to not have anything be over 1k but yall know how i get... i love them too much to shut up about em... its true.

also like i said its a scream au fic, the blood fearin gworls need not click but theres some social flops and jancy typical codependent vibes that r fun for the whole family

[elwolfen]

God... Steven Universe is so good

[yeetus-feetus]

Random songs that make me think of my fave DC characters

Look What You Made Me Do, Taylor Swift - Jason

Circus, Britney Spears - Dick

Toxic, Britney Spears - also Dick

Drops of Jupiter, Train - Tim (about Kon)

Kryptonite, 3 doors down - Kon (about Tim)

Cult of Dionysus, The Orion Experience - Bernard (I can't help it lol. 'cause of the cult thing, but also the polyamory thing)

Count on Me, Bruno Mars - Jon (young)

Empire, Beth Crowley - Damian (also young)

Legends Never Die - Core Four

[maemil]

DKoS Bruce being a loyal knight to the family that's sitting on what could so easily be his throne makes me so crazy.

He knew he was a bastard since birth. He was a child to a king and queen but had exactly zero claim to the throne with a best friend who would, upon Bruce's parents' deaths, get to be that prince he never was.

His extreme loyalty and protectiveness of the El's since he was a child, like he's making up for the shame of his birth and serving his kingdom by protecting the best people he knows' spot as its leaders.

A Wayne loyalist tried to put him on the throne when he was 11 and his response was to learn exactly how the El's could be killed, take down the man who wanted them dead, get rid of the only thing that could harm them by any means possible, and swear his undying loyalty to them.

Revealing they are brothers to his oldest friend and getting attempted murdered for it???? Like these people you loved and served for so long only wanted you around as long as you were less than them? As long as you were a loyal servant and not an equal (& a threat)??

It all makes me so insane and I wish the series had been a bit more medieval political drama to focus on it...

[rjavenuru]

me and the kid once had a long discussion on whether El Dark liked his arms over or under the blankets. Conclusion was over.