#but i also feel so alien compared to almost every other human being bc of both my general demeanor and personality but also bc of my like

[idlegods]

gravy got cheese now thats poutine !

[nameless-and-joymaking]

which andrew do you prefer as prior walter? i've seen the version with a.garfield in its entirety but a few clips on yt i saw of andrew scott were much more compelling to me tho i kinda liked the borderline campiness of the other andrew. thinking

this is a great question omg,,,

i prefer scott, with the caveat that it's almost unfair to compare the two bc i so intensely dislike the direction of garfield's production.

i appreciate the campiness of garfields performance. both scott and garfield are doing capital-F Fag Acting, but scott's is ahem. a bit more authentic. i also think it's more consistent (garfield should have picked a number 1-10 on how swishy prior is and had someone spray him with water like a cat every time he deviated from that number.) garfield also goes hard on Dying Acting, and it adds up to being a Lot at times, like he's playing a series of qualities more than actual, actionable human drives.

that whole production, by virtue of nathan lane being there, and marianne elliott's general sensibility, goes for every single possible joke on the page-- and it's a sign of a good actor to find all those jokes! but it's the director's job to say 'ok let's lose two of those as to not sacrifice the tone of this scene'. i rewatched both of their bench scenes (the 'ks, baby' one) and the action is never allowed to play out. letting the audience off the hook with a quick laugh, i Hated how quickly the lighting cue comes in at the end, etc. there were also some very basic mistakes in that production that either the actors or elliott should have caught-- if someone says "don't yell" halfway thru a scene the actors should not both have been yelling for the past four minutes. like cmon.

scott makes these lovely counterintuitive acting choices that i'm very partial to-- he does this in every role he's in. think his little smile in his hamlet's soliloquy. fwiw i also think scott perceived the structure of the bench scene just a tinyyyy bit better-- as a viewer, you feel the connection between the parallel threads of talking about death and talking about the cat so seamlessly. scott also thrives on being a little alienating, which is a new flavor for prior, who's usually such a straightforwardly lovable/relatable character. (ftr i don't think that's right or wrong, i think that's a matter of taste) the accent is a liiiiitttle umm. crunchy. but i famously do not care when theatre actor have wonky accents (kelli ohara italian my beloved)

[1kook]

EXPLORER

jjk x female reader

FOR GCN’S ❝ 23 | JUNGKOOK BIRTHDAY PROJECT ❞ ! Alien AU | “I want to have your last name!” | “I like when you do that, it makes me crazy.”

summary; Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning.  warnings; smut in the forms of cunnilingus, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, anal, tit play, and all that jazz bc surprise its tentacle porn rating: mature (18+) miscellaneous; FLUFF, strangers to friends to lovers, curious alien kook, there’s a saber tooth tiger mention, virginity is a social construct, they both have skewed perceptions of sex and love, and idk what else word count; 17.8k

notes; someone said once “all u ever do is write college aus 😃” and i was like lol true but i was also a virgo and was like “i’ll prove u wrong” and next thing i knew i was writing a 17k alien au clap for me lads

special thanks to; my savior and editor rumu ( @kigurumu​ ) who very politely tells me when im making up words n also when shit doesn't make sense but lets me make stupid final decisions that will come back to bite me in the ass<3 and also my gf yeji @suqakoo​ who watched me crash and burn about ten times while writing this monstrosity of  fic and just laughed her support amazes me<3

BEFORE READING SEE HERE; body marks, under eye marks, sixam that i stole from the sims 4 

He comes with the sole purpose of populating this uncharted territory with his seed. 

Jungkook has been on many missions abroad. He’s visited about every planet in Sector 76 before this, the largest collection of neighboring galaxies known to exist. And because of that, he likes to think he’s well educated in extraterrestrial affairs, quite knowledgeable in the barbaric ways of the foreigners. They see, they mate. Pretty simple. 

For the past couple years, as leading field researcher of Sixam, Jungkook has been exclusively studying every creature he comes across. He enjoys cataloging their habits, their mating cycles, and the unique culture they develop, sometimes intentionally and sometimes not. 

Granted, he’s never been on a mission like this. 

This type of mission has never been his. 

When the great planet of Sixam wishes to settle colonies of new species— Sixamian bred with whatever other species that have deemed suitable —they usually task people like Namjoon or Seokjin, both high ranking generals of the Sixamian Intergalactic Corp. with a near immaculate genetic makeup. Their genotypes carry strong traits, and are oftentimes most reflected in their phenotypes as well. Beings like Namjoon or Jin are the epitome of what it means to be Sixamian, which is why Jungkook is surprised when they ask him to place his seeds on Planet 43 Z-7 of the Via Láctea solar system, otherwise known as ‘Earth.’

It wasn’t that Jungkook had major self image issues, nor did he think he was particularly bad to look at. In fact, Jungkook thinks he’s pretty amazing. Of course he doesn’t compare to Namjoon or Jin, but quite frankly, the comparison is skewed by the fact he works in a different field than them. You cannot compare black holes to asteroid belts; in a similar fashion, you cannot compare military generals to scientific researchers. 

Anyway, Jungkook has never been to Planet 43 Z-7, but some of his coworkers have. They all claim it is a beautiful place, filled to the brim with life and culture never before seen. 

Frankly, Jungkook doesn’t believe it. 

He’s seen hundreds of planets, thousands of species, so he hardly feels amazed anymore. There is nothing enjoyable about other planets when he comes from Sixam, quite possibly the most intellectually advanced one in the universe. And he says this having met Yoongi of Planet 732 T-1, another being near immaculate in terms of cognitive abilities.

But not as perfect as Sixamians. 

Hoseok says Planet 43 Z-7 has all sorts of unique artifacts, like these edible arrangements called ‘hot dogs’ you eat between two pieces of raised yeast. Planet 43 Z-7 has been unmarked for eons now, but is a popular hideout for rebelling Sixamians during their early years. Jungkook was never one of those types, but he has a handful of friends who were. 

Needless to say, Jungkook isn’t looking forward to his mission. He asks Namjoon and Jin for tips on how to approach the reproductive members in the species, if there’s any protocol he needs to follow, but they simply laugh it off. They’ve both had the pleasure of, well, pleasuring some of the most beautiful creatures in the universe, so Jungkook’s incompetence must be a sight to see. 

Airship handler Jimin is the last face he sees on Sixam. He’s as relaxed as ever, strapping Jungkook into his travel pod like this is just another one of his research trips and not his first ever population operation. He pats his shoulder once, tells him to bring him back something called a ‘Nintendo DS’ that his partner Taehyung has been begging for since the last time they went to Planet 43 Z-7, but Jungkook has no idea what that is. 

And then he’s off. 

Jungkook has long since grown comfortable with the emptiness of space, a desolate feeling that oddly made him feel at home. But, as he hurtles towards his destination, there’s a newfound sense of anxiety that consumes him at the thought of this unknown planet— this ‘Earth’ that his fellow Sixamian friends speak so highly about. 

He lands in a field. Well, ‘lands’ is a bit of a stretch; his pod comes to a stop a few feet above Planet 43 Z-7’s surface, hovering over the natural flora that seems to grow in abundance in this part of the planet. It’s… dirty, compared to the sleek skyscrapers and glowing structures of Sixam. 

He steps out tentatively, the vegetation crunching beneath the boots of his skintight spacesuit. The folks back at Sixam had told him that whatever the residents of this planet breathed in was compatible with Sixamians, but he still hesitates to click off his helmet. 

The planet is quiet, save for the quiet chirping of some creature underground. The AI on his helmet pulls up the information before his very eyes, the advanced technology quickly tapping into wherever it was these beings stored their information. A mole cricket, he reads, first documented by a researcher about two hundred human years back. Very annoying. 

His pod seals itself shut again, presumably heading back into orbit until Jungkook calls for it again. With it gone, he’s faced with the vast nothingness of Planet 43 Z-7, just grass and trees with very few things in between. He’s beginning to suspect Jimin might have sent him to the wrong coordinates, a void space on the planet with nothing but vegetation for miles. 

Part of him is frustrated, beyond annoyed that he cannot even complete the one thing he came to do if there is no being in sight. But another part, the part of him that had been nervous to even accept this mission, feels grateful. Well, there was no use complaining about it now, he thinks. He pulls up his virtual journal, ready to catalogue every bit of vegetation he can set his eyes on. 

After a while, his helmet becomes stuffy, the digital screen that plays over the glass piece fogging up with his breath. So Jungkook takes his chances and clicks it off, the sudden wash of oxygen filling his lungs quickly. It’s fresh and moist? It smells like his laboratories back on Sixam, the ones that took years of countless trips around the universe and meticulous gardening to cultivate. Yet here on Planet 43 Z-7, this type of phenomenon is common, and apparently, ignored by its residents. 

One man’s trash was another man’s treasure, he supposes. 

He’s scanning a peculiar organism, reddish and dome-shaped, when he hears the first crack of a twig. Immediately, his defenses rise. Jungkook was by no means a skilled warrior, but most Sixamians fared better than other creatures in the universe. Save for the few barbarian, primitive species they’ve encountered, 9/10 times any wild encounter was in their favor. 

His eyes scan over the perimeter of the field, scanning, scanning, scanning— until he spots two, huge, glowing yellow eyes from distance. His eyes widen, flicking on the retractable blaster from his wrist and pointing it at the creature. 

It’s bigger than him, with eyes that look over only a short distance before gradually dying down. He wonders if that’s the scope of its field of vision, crouching down along the vegetation. He creeps closer, rounds the bright beams until he can see the creature’s side, an oddly shaped thing, almost like a shell. It has wheels, he realizes, mentally jotting down the fact this species is advanced enough to develop such technology on their own. 

Right as he’s beginning to lower his wrist, deciding this metal creature posed no threat from its lack of movement, something smaller moves around it, carrying a compact version of those glowing eyes. 

Jungkook panics, wildly clicking through the modes on his wrists. He jumps from his blaster to the thermal detector, and the smaller creature that moves around the metal beast has a heat signature he’s never seen before, warmth that begins at its core but doesn’t drop drastically as it fans out. And then he’s switching to his electroscope and is startled to see that the smaller creature even carries an electric charge beneath its outer membrane. 

This is terrifying, he thinks to himself, wondering why his friends back home had decided to trick him into believing Planet 43 Z-7 was remotely safe. 

Before Jungkook can act rashly and accidentally kill that terrifying creature, he’s blindly stepping into a hole in the ground, a dip in the field. An uncontrollable yelp tears itself from his throat at the roll of his ankle. 

Immediately, the yellow eye is upon him, flickering over his kneeling form in the vegetation. Jungkook freezes, caught in the all-seeing rays of the yellow eye. He wonders if this is the end, the end of an undoubtedly legendary run, as the creature slowly approaches. 

Its figure is shrouded, the blinding eye turning them into just a silhouette that closes in on Jungkook fairly quickly. He squeezes his eyes shut, wishing he never stepped out of his pod, when the beam flickers off. 

“Hello?” a hesitant voice calls out, and then he’s met with you. 

You had always believed holding out until marriage would come as an advantage. You played it safe your entire life, always did what you were told. You had grown up in a relatively traditional household, always following the rules like a good kid. Your parents said no dating until seventeen? You waited until seventeen. Your health classes in school said practice abstinence? You practiced abstinence. 

Following the rules was what got you into a prestigious university. Following the rules is what got you your first, quite admirable, job. Following the rules is what had gotten you into your first serious relationship with your boyfriend, who became your fiancé, who would become the man to cheat on you three nights before your wedding. 

Being a virgin— that symbol of purity —was supposed to make you desirable to men, you thought. It was supposed to protect you from bad experiences, keep you perfectly polished until the time came. You had many a friend who had engaged in sex at a young age, experienced mind blowing sex that would never be topped, even by their own future husbands. You had saved yourself from disappointment by saving yourself in general. 

Except that concept, that meticulously followed tradition, was what ultimately drove your fiancé away.

Three days. 

Three days before you would marry and lose that treasured thing you had been carrying around for the past twenty-five years, flushed clean down the drain all because he couldn’t wait any longer. He had managed four years with you, four memorable years where he had religiously told you he loved you every chance he got, regardless of your lack of sex life. Just to blow it for some barely legal chick at a bar. 

Needless to say, you were done. Absolutely finished with him and your friends who claimed they “weren’t surprised” only after the fact, or your parents who had urged you to try again. You were done with this saving and waiting all for a man who ultimately did you dirty. You needed to get away from it all, and the only way to do that was to leave the city all together. 

Your parents were uncomfortable with the idea. They said it was too brash a decision to give up after one try. But your whole future had been riding on this one try, and to have it completely ripped away from you crushed not only your hope but your pride. 

On the other hand, your grandmother and her lifelong experiences with men understood you just perfectly. She was old, living in a retirement home near your parents’ home in one of your city’s many suburbs. There was a house out in the countryside, about a two-hour drive from the city. She had grown up there, and even though she hadn’t lived there in years, she simply couldn’t bring herself to sell it off. So she gave it to you. 

It was a cute little thing, a stereotypical farmhouse surrounded by miles and miles of nothingness. Well, your neighbors were about half a mile off on either side, but who was walking half a mile for a cup of sugar? No one. 

You loved it. 

It was peace and quiet, long days of focusing on yourself and your tiny garden outback. There was no societal pressure to act right, or forced ideologies to make yourself the ‘perfect woman.’ It was just you and a stray cat that visited now and then, spending day after day reading and writing, working from home. 

The trips into the city were far and few between. There was a general store close to your house, nestled into a quaint little town you visited every so often. And the mailmen still had to make their stops through here, so everything was practically at your fingertips. The only thing you had to do in the city was drop by the main branch office of your job. Your work had mostly been over a computer before, so moving to work at home was rather easy. However, there was still the occasional board meeting to sit through. 

So here you were, three months into your new living situation and on your way back home from the city. The evening sun is beating down hot on your yellow Beetle. You were in desperate need for a check up, but you kept pushing it off and telling yourself tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. It seems tomorrow should have been today, because by the time the sun is setting, home is still another thirty minutes away and the temperature gauge is climbing to unhealthy levels. 

The Beetle pushes for another two minutes before wheezing to a stop in the middle of nowhere, your angry slaps against the dashboard doing nothing to revive it. With a muttered curse, you switch the car off. The front lights remain on even as you round the dead car, angrily kicking the tire with your heel. It doesn’t budge. 

You sigh, sinking down to your knees beside the opened door you came out of. The nearest mechanic was still a forty minutes’ drive from here, and you doubt anyone is still open. The con of small towns is that most of the businesses close after sunset. One glance at your phone lets you know it’s way too late to call anyone for help. You contemplate just walking to your house, but it’s dark and far, and your heels were only meant to be worn for an hour or two during your meeting. Not for an entire transcontinental trek back home. 

Sighing, you decide your best bet is tinkering around yourself. You weren’t a total idiot, so you hope whatever is wrong with your car is something you can fix on your own. You shoot back up to your feet, patting the blood back into your face as you round the car. 

There’s nothing but you and the Beetle for miles on end— or so you think. 

Just as you flicker your flashlight over the expanse of grass, there’s a startled shout that scares the living daylights out of you, flashlight fumbling in your hand in your haste to see what it was. 

Great, so not only were you stranded in the middle of nowhere with nothing but your heels to carry you to safety, but now there was also a man out there, hiding in the tall grass like a voyeur. 

It’s a terrible idea, but you approach him anyway. There’s a huddled figure, a gleam of a bizarre outfit that has you shaking in your heels as you step closer to the edge of the road. And when you finally get close enough, the light shining over their figure, you’re not exactly sure what you’re looking at. 

“Hello?” you call out, and are met with the most violet eyes you’ve ever seen in your entire life. 

Jungkook thinks you are an odd creature. 

To begin with, you carry an electrical charge at your fingertips but are unable to revive your rickety metal ride with said touch. It is undoubtedly a trait he does not remember cataloguing in any other species before yours; it might rival the Sixamians’ aura sensing abilities, the little triangular markings beneath their eyes that allowed them to alter another’s emotions. Electricity beneath surface, he mentally notes for the nth time that night. 

The inside of your vehicle is disgustingly mediocre, a mixture of old clogs and pipes he’s only seen in ancient Sixamian textbooks. Still, they’re devastatingly easy to figure out. One simple twist of a lid later and your car is revving back to life. You squeal and clap, clacking around on the frankly terrifying footwear you call heels that are practically knives as stilts. 

Amazing, you cry, moving like a mini tornado around him. You don’t seem the least bit phased by his appearance, despite the initial shock you’d gotten when you first made eye contact. Actually, Jungkook thinks you might be the quickest extraterrestrial being to accept his existence as fact. He has to wonder what exactly goes on here that has these Humans, as Jimin has called them, so desensitized to the appearance of otherworldly figures such as himself. 

You invite him into your moving death trap, not the least bit concerned with the chest piece of armor he removes and tosses into the seats behind him. Jungkook has been in a lot of near death situations, and somehow your manner of driving this metal box marks high on the list. 

“My home,” you tell him when you finally pull up to a tiny shack of a house. It’s about the same size as his personal lab back on Sixam, so he wonders just which one of you is being deluded by the size. The car engine shuts off with a practiced flick of your wrist, and then you’re making your way up the front steps without sparing him a glance. 

“Lovely,” he says at the entrance. He moves to travel deeper inside, but you warn him to remove his shoes. He does, hesitantly, bare feet padding along the wooden floors behind you. “Forgive me,” he apologizes, watching you bumble around a small space with a standing cooler and heat box. “I haven’t asked your name.”

You hum, tugging out two cups from a hanging cabinet. You fill them with a white substance, followed by a light brown powder that almost makes you sneeze, before shoving them into the heat box that begins suspiciously counting down. “__ ___,” you offer. 

Jungkook frowns. “You have two names?” he asks skeptically. In Sixam, rarely anyone had two names. “Are you a government official?” 

You laugh. “No, but I do work for an office. I have one name, and then my last name,” you explain. 

This only perplexes him more. “A last name?” he repeats. “What is the purpose of this last name?” 

You shrug, and the heat box beeps loudly. Jungkook twitches, ready to aim his blaster once more but you calm the beeping box with a gentle click that has the front opening, the most heavenly scent wafting into his nostrils. Oh Jungkook definitely needed to take that back. Much to his surprise, you hand him one of the handled cups, the sweet smell making his eyes roll into the back of his head. 

“Well,” you say, seemingly unaware of the way you just changed Jungkook’s entire life. “I have my name, and then I have my family’s name. Like, to show we’re in the same group, kinda,” you explain. “And it also helps sort of differentiate you from other people with the same first name.” You settle down on a seat in front of the counter, carefully blowing across the liquid contents of the mug. Jungkook doesn’t get why until he tries to take a sip and the liquid scalds his tongue. You laugh. “Gotta cool it down, silly.” 

He feels silly. In fact, he feels beyond embarrassed that someone who is not a Sixamian is looking at him with the same eyes you look at an infant with. He has a strong need to reinforce his superiority over you. 

“Well I am Jungkook,” he announces proudly. “Jungkook of Sixam. The only Jungkook of Sixam, because we do not believe in sharing something as intimate as our names with another,” he huffs. You scoff, a genuine look of amusement crossing your features that Jungkook simply does not understand. 

It’s with a practiced grace that you set your cup down on the counter, face coming to a rest in in the palm of your hand as you watch him talk over himself about the intricacies of Sixamian names, and how each one is carefully selected at one’s first celebration to honor the first long year of life they overcame. That look on your face, that disgustingly entertained expression does not melt away, even when Jungkook hastily calls your people imbeciles to your face. 

“Yeah, well,” you shrug, staring deep into the contents of your hot cocoa, as you had called it when offering him a second cup, as if you don’t seem to disagree in the slightest. “Humans are like that. 

There’s a quality to your voice, a rather melancholy tone that curls around your words that stops Jungkook’s tirade against your race for a moment. There’s a look in your eyes, hollow and alone, that he cannot place. He wonders if it’s from past experiences or from a shared Human trauma. Either way, he does not understand. 

It’s with a shake of your head that you look up at him again, sweet smile back on your features. “Humans are selfish creatures, Jungkook,” you say. 

He is not sure if he believes you. 

Jungkook has traveled to many parts of the universe, has visited places your tiny Human brain may never comprehend. Yet he has not always received this treatment. There have been missions where he has been picked on and abused for his curiosity, rudely ejected back into the vast emptiness of space just because he wanted to know more, learn more. Not every planet welcomes him with a soft smile and a warm place to stay. 

Despite the initial unimpressed confusion he felt upon entering Planet 43 Z-7, there is something about the quirk of your lips and gentle tapping of your fingers that intrigues him. 

Huh, he thinks, subconsciously cataloguing your mannerisms in his head. He will write about this later. 

You let Jungkook sleep in your quarters, a small area with a mattress that he sinks into with delight. There’s a change of clothing you set out on the edge of the bed, a rather shabby set that matches yours. He is reluctant to peel away his bodysuit, even more so when he realizes he is standing naked on a foreign planet with a very strange creature clattering around downstairs. He hurries into the clothes. 

You peek your head into the room later on, carefully flicking off the lights as he settles onto the mattress. Jungkook is beyond tired, body fatigued from hurtling thousands of light years through space in such a short amount of time. The abundance of breathable oxygen is still something his body has to grow accustomed to. Your voice is soft as you whisper out a goodnight farewell that he can only sleepily mumble back. 

Jungkook is quite literally the most gorgeous person you have ever seen. Well, person is a stretch considering you’re not entirely sure what he is, or where he’s from. When you found him, sadly crouched in the middle of nowhere, you wanted to convince yourself he was some random college boy lost on his way to a costume convention. But he’s not. His big purple irises are oddly bright, practically luminescent, and that’s definitely not something one could achieve through stage makeup. And he’s not a college student either, despite how youthful he looks, but a foreign being at least three times your age. 

Or so he says. 

Honestly, you’re torn between wanting to write him off a nutjob or believing he is this highly intelligent extraterrestrial being. In the case he is the latter, you find it odd that of all the planets in your solar system— a whopping eight, maybe nine —he chose crappy old Earth to visit. 

Jungkook moves like a fine tuned instrument, graceful limbs wandering around your home and backyard the next morning. His little head piece, a unique accessory that wraps around the base of his skull like a microphone headset or something, seems to keep him in constant communication with his fellow brethren so long as he wears it. So he wears it all the time. 

Still, you’re able to differentiate between his messages back home and his mindless mumbles. Those usually happen more often than not, soft muttering as he inspects your garden, vivid descriptions of the plainest things like an onion. 

“Lemonade’s ready,” you call, stepping into your backyard. Jungkook peers over your rosemaries like a bunny, wide eyes scanning the pitcher you set out on your back porch’s table. Carefully, he steps around your meticulous rows of vegetables. He’s wearing the clothes you lent him last night, a pair of shorts and a shirt your brother had left when he visited a few weeks ago. They fit him nicely, shorts just shy of his knees. 

“This is lemond-aid?” he asks quizzically, tentative hands reaching for the quickly perspiring glass. He has unique markings that begin at his hands, twisting and curling carefully around his arms. They’re gold in the sunlight, contrasting softly against his relatively peachy skin. There’s a matching set on his knees that wrap over and around his thighs, beneath his shorts. He looks every bit the celestial being, yet here he is marveling over the lemon slice balanced on the rim of his glass. 

“Lemonade,” you correct, sitting down on your rocking chair. Your floppy sun hat protects you from the brutal rays of the sun, practically scorching in this summer heat. It reminds you of the honeymoon you were supposed to take a few months back. You stomp out the memory. 

Jungkook takes tentative sips, stopping every few seconds to smack his lips at the taste. Then, suddenly, he’s plopping down on the wooden planks of your porch criss-cross applesauce. The bracelet-like contraption he had removed from his suit is sitting on his wrist by itself, with Jungkook rapidly tapping some unseeable button on it until a blue hologram appears between the two of you. 

“Woah,” you gasp, the projection flawless and stable. Jungkook gets to work tapping at it, unrecognizable symbols appearing on the screen. His glass of lemonade is by his knee, ice tinkling inside. 

“Lemond-aide,” he repeats, mouth moving awkwardly around the world. He glances at you for confirmation. You shake your head. Frustrated, he scoots up beside you, pressed against your leg like a puppy. “Say it,” he commands, tapping at his screen once. 

You clear your throat. “Uh, lemonade?” you offer. Jungkook nods, clicks something else, and then your voice is repeating itself back to the two of you. He looks for your approval once more. “Perfect,” you nod, slightly bashful to hear your own voice played back like that. 

Content with your approval, he gets back to work, clicking and typing wildly at the screen until it’s filled to the brim with those strange symbols. When he’s done, he says his name and date into the same recording device and shuts off his hologram. “It is an interesting thing,” he says quietly, bare feet swinging over the edge of the porch. “A sweet drink procured from a tangy fruit.” 

You nod, can’t stop the smile that consumes your features at his childlike wonder. You know it’s not his fault that such simple things astound him, but there’s something about Jungkook’s genuine curiosity and snarky tongue that make you feel young again. Like a teenager in her prime, sitting with a silly high school boy. Not a woman sitting on the cusp of thirty, alone and untrusting of the world. 

“What are hot dogs?” Jungkook cuts in abruptly, turning to face you with those purple eyes of his. You can’t help it; you laugh. 

“I have some in the fridge,” you answer, leaving your rocking chair and him on the porch. Jungkook doesn’t sit still for long, quietly trailing behind you inside the house. The stray cat is here today, slinking around your ankles as you scour the fridge for the hot dogs. It’s a perfect day for a barbecue, you think, with hot dogs and lemonade. 

The cat wanders over towards Jungkook, sniffing at his ankles before nuzzling against him too. “You also have smilodon on your planet,” he comments. “You are comfortable with such murderous beasts in your home?”

You furrow your brows. “It’s just a cat,” you shrug, leaning down to pick up the furry baby. He purrs against your chest while Jungkook glares at it. 

“Have you taken its teeth for your own?” he asks. 

“What?” you laugh. “He has all his teeth.” 

Jungkook frowns. “No, his unusually large canines,” he explains, mimics two giant fangs with his fingers. “Is this a kitten of a smilodon?” You have no idea what he’s saying at this point, rubbing the cat’s back gently as Jungkook talks over himself. He does that a lot, you realize, ramble about facts you would otherwise see as of little importance. 

The afternoon is spent grilling hot dogs, Jungkook carefully trailing the cat he has taken to calling Smilodon. You watch from the grill as he follows the cat around the garden, gently shooing it off when it gets too close to your broccoli plants. He’s cute, you think, watching him maneuver around your plants with the grace of a trained dancer. 

He absolutely adores the hot dogs, spending another twenty minutes typing out one of those funky journal entries into the computer in his wristband. He asks about the Nintendo DS, something that makes you laugh boisterously at the absurdity of the question. 

When it gets dark outside, he stands in one place and stares up at the sky, rendered motionless at the sight. Jungkook doesn’t like coffee, but he loves hot cocoa. He settles in to watch the nightly news with you, every five minutes filled with an abundance of questions about your planet— which he refers to by a unique set of numbers and letters you’ve never heard before —and what you like to do. Every tidbit of information is documented in his wristband. 

He sleeps on the couch this time, feeling shameful to have pulled you away from such an amazing mattress. He says goodnight shyly from the bottom of the stairs, followed by a tentative wave he saw you give the mailman that morning. You say it back and fall asleep, the alien in your living room not making a peep. 

Thus a whole week passes with Jungkook of Sixam.

On the seventh day of his stay, Jungkook is woken up by the quiet beeping of his headpiece. It’s Chief Kim Namjoon, calling to ask how his population operation of Planet 43 Z-7 is going. Jungkook stills, the quiet chirping of the birds outside your window filling in the space. The water is running somewhere inside your house, signaling your conscious state. 

His answers are quick and sharp, nervous laughter falling from his lips as he rushes to end the call with Namjoon. He manages to do so just as you appear in the living room, skin nice and dewy from your morning shower, eyes still showing signs of your peaceful slumber. 

“Good morning,” you rasp quietly, a soft ruffle of his hair as you pass by Jungkook on your way to the kitchen. His face feels warm, under eye markings surely glowing a vivid red at the gesture you have gradually ingrained into him, one that makes his heart rev up like an engine preparing to shoot off millions of light years into the distance. 

Jungkook enters the kitchen behind you, your pet smilodon greeting the two of you with a gentle head butt against his ankles that is unlike any other smilodon he has encountered before. He sits at the counter as you work on breakfast, the faint scent of your cucumber body scrub wafting by with every turn you make in the small kitchen. 

And then he’s thinking. 

There are a few crucial bits of information that Jungkook has come to realize over the past week, some of which he hears directly from you, others he picks up from watching your ancient projection in the living room. 

One: of the variety of human genders that exist on Earth, you are one that seems to carry the specific set of bodily structures necessary for reproduction. He’s inspected you carefully the last few days, watching the way you move and carry yourself, just to ensure such is true. By finding you right away, Jungkook was halfway to his goal of settling his seeds on Planet 43 Z-7. 

Two: unlike most humans of Planet 43 Z-7, your body seems oddly… preserved, to say the least. He knows you are familiar with their reproductive rituals as he’s watched a few of said rituals on the projection box in your living room with you. They were very normalized among your people, with almost every broadcast including at least one mention of them every day. Despite that, your body shows no significant reaction to the scenes, and one sneaky scan of your vitals shows Jungkook that you have yet to participate in this ritual yourself. 

Lastly, Jungkook has come to the terrible, godawful conclusion that he does not wish to rope you into breeding with him for the sake of Sixam’s colonialist ways. There’s something about you and your people that does not deserve to be seized by Jungkook and his people. A sort of untouched quality of the progression of your species.

As the oldest and most advanced planet in quite possibly the entire universe, Sixam holds significant power over everyone else. Their higher order brains have helped many a planet follow the right path in attaining the same level of perfection. They were saviors of some sort, touching every planet they visited with the finger of a god. While there were certainly some Sixamians who did not believe in this way of life, of stretching their hold across entire galaxies, others did. 

Jungkook had always fallen in the middle. He had no particular desire to reign over the planets he visited, because his interests had always laid with the existence of the individuals on said planets. He was a researcher, not a military official like Namjoon or Jin. But he has to admit that time and again his research has procured the same results; while there were certainly other planets where the beings were more beautiful or the landscape more stunning than that of Sixam, there was not a single planet that matched their advanced mental capabilities. 

Until now. 

Your civilization moved in a rather fluid way, always changing and never settling. There were eras he learned about on TV, revolutions where one invention rose to prominence, where one sub-race rose to power. Even now, a simple scan through your news broadcasts leaves Jungkook curious. For the first time in a long time, his countless journal entries of information do not lead him to a plausible conclusion. Would you make it right and settle your disputes? Or would this endless fighting, sometimes carried out passively and through words, other times with the use of advanced weaponry, continue until the end of time? Jungkook didn’t know. 

And it was wrong of him to ask you to carry the burden of introducing an entirely new species— a Human and Sixamian at once —for the sole belief that it would somehow “fix” your planet. For the sake of your people, it was best if Jungkook just bugged off. 

And yet, the soft scent of your body lotion, the gentle brush of your hands against his scalp, the delicate way his name rolls off your lips like you’re tasting it for the first time, they all make his heart beat unnaturally fast beneath his skin. They make him yearn for a feeling, an emotion, he cannot quite describe. 

He was in trouble. 

Ovulation creeps up on you early into the next week. 

You hadn’t been too focused on it this time around, mostly just worried about your period and how awkward it would feel around Jungkook of Sixam. Preoccupied with stockpiling pads and finding your heat pad, you forget about the few days before the period. The time where your libido rages like an animal that has been poked at one too many times. 

The realization dawns on you slowly. Jungkook is sitting on the couch, avidly watching a documentary on ancient civilizations. He’s got one hand in a bowl of popcorn you set out for him, another mindlessly toying with a stray thread on a throw pillow. It’s when he looks at you with those big purple eyes, lips pouty and pink, that something distinctly carnal flickers on inside of you. 

You ignore it. You wrap those feelings in a box and shove it deep into the recesses of your mind. 

But Jungkook was devastatingly handsome, that much you’d known from the moment you saw him. When he’s not in the sun, those Sixamian markings wrap around his body in charcoal streaks, peeking out from the hem of whatever clothes you find for him everyday. For the most part, he’s been running through the pack of plain shirts you picked up from the general store, and the same two pairs of shorts on rotation. His body is artfully toned, thighs big and bulging, but waist small and tapered. His lower lip is the juiciest pink color you’ve ever seen, plush and soft, framing two rows of pearly white teeth. His hair is jet black, part favoring one side more than the other. 

His hands are firm on the rare occasion he touches you; on your hips when you stumble around the kitchen, on your shoulder when he’s pointing out a particular constellation to you. Jungkook’s presence slowly begins driving you to insanity. 

The worst thing is, you cannot tell if his curiosity comes from your status as a potential partner or his overall interests in your species. You want to convince yourself that he is just as interested in your body as an individual as you are his, but those hopes are dashed with every question he asks. Where does the sink drain? Where does the chocolate powder come from? How far is the nearest government official? 

So you calm your thoughts, push them away with the same practiced ease you’ve mastered from a young age. Your purity remains untainted by others, only teased in the shower when Jungkook is wandering around outside. Then and only then do you offer yourself a reprieve, press your fingers down between your thighs and wonder what it is like to have someone else there. 

You picture two purple eyes peering up at you from below, a pink tongue carefully licking against your puffy folds until you’re shaking. How well endowed was a Sixamian? You didn’t know, but you imagine them to be quite big if the subtle shifts you catch of Jungkook every now and then are any sign. 

One finger wiggles past the tight ring of muscle surrounding your hole, the intrusion makes your knees buck. You sink along the shower wall, huffing and puffing as your fingers dance along your swollen clit, thumb swirling hurried circles around the bud until you’re cumming, body spasming from the force.

The water rains down on you, washes your shameful acts down the drain. Vaguely, you wonder if Jungkook is still outside or if the heat drove him into your air conditioned home. Did he hear you? For all his curiosity, you’re certain there are some aspects of the human experience that Jungkook did not want to see. His roommate/caretaker/only-human-friend masturbating was probably one of them.  

It has been years since your fantasies included any other man, faithfully revolving around your ex-fiancé until the very end. It is scary how quickly the mere idea of Jungkook riles you up, how that violet gaze is enough to tear you apart. 

When you resurface in the living room, the house is still. The only sounds are that of the grandfather clock in the hallway and the occasional creaking of the pipes. Jungkook is still outside, you sigh in relief, catching his fluffy head of hair bounding across the front yard with Smilodon on his heels. When he turns, you catch his eyes and he pauses. He offers you that same cute wave he learned last week, gentle smile gracing his features. 

It’s the soft curve of his cheeks, eyes crinkling at the corners, that make the rapid thumping in your chest settle. You raise your hand, waving back through the window. All was well. 

For now. 

The next morning brings with it an overwhelming sense of anxiety. Namjoon calls him again in the morning, and this time Jungkook cannot skirt around the truth. He hurriedly tells his friend of his findings, of the beautiful society that flourishes on Planet 43 Z-7, and the never-ending personalities he has the chance of encountering. There is an author fansign, you told him, of a book he thoroughly enjoyed taking place next week. There is a woman in town who can fix any technology sent her way. There is a group of children who pass by and sell you food, these flattened things called Girls Cout Cook Ease. There is so much to see and so much to learn that it has Jungkook unconsciously projecting his excitement via his under eye markings. 

You come downstairs mid-call, smiley and ditzy. You were normally a bubbly person, but this much excitement can’t possibly be yours. It’s the sign Jungkook needs to settle down, but Namjoon offers him one too. 

Much to his chagrin, he warns Jungkook against getting too comfortable, tells him to finish his operation and scram as quickly as possible. The Higher Sixamian Court does not take kindly to Sixamians becoming enamored with other planets, especially if they are as advanced as Jungkook claims them to be. He’s rushing out information, begging Jungkook to finish or abandon his mission, anything but stay too long, and before Jungkook can respond, their comms are abruptly shut off. 

He’s left blankly staring at your coffee table, Namjoon’s caution ringing loudly in his ears. 

After the effects of his accidental influence wear off on you, you shake yourself awake, confusedly glancing around the place before shrugging it off. “Morning,” you say, the same as ever, patting his head softly. Jungkook watches you begin your daily routine, the kettle running on the stove as you get to work preparing his hot cocoa. 

For a moment he wonders what it’s like to be like this, to live like this. Free from the standards of Sixam as you go about your morning. There is no drive in you to conquer everyone, no overwhelming need to ‘fix’ those around you. You exist by yourself in this tiny house outside the city, like a moon always circling but never interacting. He knows you have your own circumstances that drove you here, issues where you suffered that same grueling past of people forcing ideas and beliefs upon you as Jungkook. But now you’re here, housing an extraterrestrial being such as himself without any payment. 

He wants to be like you. 

He wanders over towards the kitchen, returning your sleepy smile when you catch his gaze. Jungkook likes this. He enjoys seeing you in the morning, still trailed by the remnants of sleep, with skin tender to the touch. The smell of cocoa filling his nostrils, the chirp of the birds outside your window. He likes Smilodon and the mailman, and the woman half a mile from here who brought you peaches the other day. 

Most importantly, Jungkook likes you. 

Not as a breeding partner or convenient hostess, but as a person. Your laughter makes him feel warm inside, like he is genuinely appreciated as is. You’re gentle with your words, and even more so with your touch; hands pat his head, hold his arm when he stumbles too close to the garden. 

Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning. 

He wants to remain beside you. 

It’s a little stuffy inside your house today, a problem you solve by cracking open the kitchen window. A nice breeze flows over the two of you, pushing the scent of the cocoa and your coffee his way. But a sweeter one follows, something thick and earthy that rolls off of you in waves. Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, tries to ward off those sounds he heard from you just yesterday afternoon. 

Those whiny sounds, airy whimpers that had drifted down from upstairs. A wet squelch that had registered a little too loudly to his superior ears. It had haunted him last night on the couch, made Jungkook twist and turn until the fuzzy image of you relieving yourself went away. 

Jungkook wanted to help with that too. He wanted to put his hands and his mouth in places you needed him most, pleasure you like you deserved. 

But how could he tell you all this and more? Did he even have the right as an invader to profess his infatuation to you? This Planet 43 Z-7, this Earth, was filled to the brim with interesting things, yet you remained at the very top of Jungkook’s list. He couldn’t leave, not now, but he couldn’t stay either. His entire presence in itself was a ploy to spread his seed, a fact you continued to be unaware of. 

Namjoon’s words bounce around his brain, twist and wrap around him until he’s shakily reaching for his mug. He couldn’t stay here any longer under this false pretense. He couldn’t lie to you another day, another second more. He was tired of being a sheep. It’s with this conflicting resolve that he commands himself to confess this to you at once. 

So he spills it all out to you. 

From the complex history of the Sixamians to his assignment of this mission. You listen quietly as you munch through breakfast, nodding along to each new point he brings up that changes the story. He tells you about the population mission, about how he was sent here to spread his superior genes over the land, but how he’s let that sit on the back burner while you taught him all sorts of new things. If you are unimpressed with Jungkook and Sixam, you don’t show it. 

“So you came to... breed?” you ask when he has finished, hands neatly folded on your lap. Breakfast is finished, plate scraped clean. 

Jungkook nods shamefully. “I was asked to contribute to the reconstruction of Planet 43 Z-7,” he says, repeating the practiced reasoning every Sixamian has heard at least once in their life. But in front of you, it makes him cringe. 

The grandfather clock in the hallway clicks along quietly, the soundtrack to Jungkook’s desperate read of you. Your eyes are focused on the plate before you, lost in thought at the abundance of information he has just thrown on you. He could easily switch his influential abilities back on, brighten your mood like he has been taught to do with countless other species since the beginning of time. But it feels wrong to subject you to that, to strip you of your emotions, even if it would save him the discomfort. 

Instead he sits in silence. 

Jungkook waits patiently, even though every fiber in his being is telling him to get up and make a run for it. Escape before he can see a look of disgust aimed his way. But he has come to value your opinions as equal to his, and the thought of leaving you by yourself does not sit well with him. So he waits. 

It takes a few minutes of contemplation before you grace him with an answer, nervously rubbing your hands over your thighs. “I understand, Jungkook,” you exhale tightly. “But I don’t think I’m the partner you are looking for.”

“No! I was not— It was not my intention,” he stammers, waving his hands all over the place in his hurry to explain. He sucks in a sharp breath. “I do not wish to force such a burden on you, __,” he manages, “I would not do that to you.”

He is about to pat himself on the back for his save, when suddenly the corners of your lips take a sharp drop. “Oh, I see,” you mutter, arms self consciously wrapping around your frame. “So you don’t see me as a suitable partner?” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your drawn conclusion. “No,” he chokes, and your frown deepens. “I mean, yes, I do see you as a viable partner to engage in reproductive activities,” and now he’s spiraling, the surprised look on your face only fueling his pea-brained ramblings, “I just—I assumed you did not enjoy that? 

His excuse sounds so unbelievably weak even to his own ears. 

“What made you think that?” you ask. At the rate this conversation is going, Jungkook fears his brain will soon fry itself out. 

His mind is a spinning mess, like the inside of a vacuum that rumbles and turns with each new thought that enters. What was he supposed to say? That he’s heard you in your most intimate moments, moments where you hid from him? Or that he’s done countless scans on your body when you weren’t looking and came to the same result every time; that result being that you have never been touched by another before? And what was he supposed to draw from these conclusions if not that you abhorred such intimacy?  

“I-I heard… you,” Jungkook admits quietly. “And, I felt your emotions. They were nervous.” He does not need his thermal detector to feel the heat that floods your face. “I did not want to impose on such a fragile moment,” he continues. “And I apologize if my actions have made you uncomfortable.”

“No, no,” you wave off, pressing the back of your knuckles to your cheeks. “I apologize for doing something so inappropriate with you in my house.”

Jungkook’s brow furrows. “Do you not enjoy participating in sexual activities, __?” he asks curiously. 

You gulp loudly, obviously startled by his question. Which part of it, Jungkook doesn’t know. He nudges your knee with his, urging you to answer. A shaky exhale, and then you’re rambling. “I-No, I do,” you rush out, avidly avoiding his gaze. “I, um, I just have never, uh, been with anyone.” 

“Oh,” Jungkook blinks. “Is that why your reproductive areas are strangely well preserved for a being your age? I was beginning to wonder about the complexities of Human reproduction after meeting you, __. Is there a certain tradition one must follow to copulate with you?” 

“No, no,” you rush to correct. Jungkook has obviously said something that upset you, because when you speak again your aura is tainted with the hints of irritation. “Tradition is stupid,” you explain slowly, a sense of heartache consuming him at your rather lonely figure. He is beside you, yet feels a thousand light years away from your heart. “I was just a fool.”

His gaze softens, carefully placing a hand on your knee comfortingly. He doesn’t have to say anything more, just let you know he isn’t far at all, and you understand. You lean against his shoulder, the same sad look in your eyes. The grandfather clock ticks on in the hallway, in sync with the slow rhythm of your heart. Jungkook places a kiss to the crown of your head. 

The day drags on. 

Your morning chores are finished quickly with Jungkook at your side. He obsesses over the plants and plays with Smilodon. You make apple juice today with the fruits that fall from the tree out front. Jungkook enjoys it, but not as much as lemonade. Still, it gets its own entry in his log. 

He asks more questions about your world, straying away from the ones he had last week that seemed to exclusively revolve around the fauna and flora. Now, he is interested in your Human way of life. The TV confuses him, and he doesn’t quite understand the difference between dramas and news stations. So you explain as best you can for him. 

His main issue lies in his inability to comprehend the constant strife within your planet, especially when you explain to him topics like poverty or homelessness. Sixam is nothing like Earth, he says, because everyone on Sixam is looked after and taken care of as deemed appropriate. There is no division of classes because deep down, every Sixamian acknowledges they are superior to the rest of the universe. It sounds like a utopia to you, but you’ve read enough books to know how those usually turn out. 

That fact intrigues Jungkook as well. How Humans can be aware of so many altering concepts and beliefs, yet desensitized to all. He doesn’t get it, and explaining the concept of fiction existing on a separate plane only confuses him more. 

Eventually you bring it back to tradition, somehow, that dreaded word you’ve come to abhor. Jungkook enjoys learning about your culture and your way of life, little things you do here and there. But as most things do in your life, the conversation circles back around to your failed marriage. 

“Ah,” Jungkook says. “So it is tradition to save your first reproductive act for the one you ‘marry’?” You nod, toes tucked up into the couch. It’s a little before sunset now, the orange hue of the outdoors leaking into your living room. “And then you take their last name? That is very confusing, __. I thought this last name identified you to your fellow Human, how can you so easily change it around?” 

You laugh. “It's complicated,” you offer. Jungkook chuckles as well, obviously overwhelmed with all the new information you provided him with today. 

Jungkook nods pensively but you doubt he understands. “I see,” he mumbles, fingertip tapping against the armrest he’s leaning against. It’s a tell tale sign that he desperately wants to document what you’ve said in his supercomputer bracelet but is holding back for the sake of this moment. You think it’s rather sweet. “So copulation does not always secure you a partner.”

You shrug halfheartedly. “People have different drives,” you say. “Some of them want love and some just want sex.”

“And you?” he asks suddenly, big purple eyes swirling with entire galaxies. “What would you like?” 

A lot of things, you think, but when it comes down to it, when Jungkook asks you with his pretty eyes and pouty lips, you can’t find the right words. “Both,” is your measly reply. “What about you?” 

He seems just as thrown off by your question as you, eyes widening as he leans back. The living room is bathed in warm splashes of color, the last of the sun’s rays painting Jungkook in a rather romantic light. You can’t look away. “I too would like both,” he admits, idly tracing the tip of his finger along the markings that decorate the tops of his knees. “This notion of attraction beyond the physical realm is not common in Sixam,” he answers. “Sixam is very… strict about what a relationship entails. 

You set your mug down on the side table, shuffling around until your toes poke his hip, arm thrown over the back of the couch. “How so?” you ask. 

Jungkook’s lips push out into a frown. “The Higher Sixamian Court has long since ruled that mating rituals between citizens are strictly limited to those that will produce the most immaculate genome,” he says, as if that is just another simple, everyday fact of life. It is for him, but not for you. 

“So, are you like… assigned?” you press, suddenly wondering how a being as curious and sentimental as Jungkook has survived so long in a place like Sixam. “And like, do you raise kids together?”

“Until the end of their first era,” Jungkook supplies, as if that makes the slightest bit of sense. “And sort of. Sixam is not that oppressive,” he jokes, but there is something about his eyes missing their usual glow that tips you off. “I have yet to copulate for reproductive purposes.”

You pause. “But you have for… fun purposes?” 

Jungkook looks at you seriously. And then, ever so slowly, the little marks beneath the corners of his eyes, the little triangles that usually flare blue, fade into a lovely pink shade. “I-“ he stammers, obviously flustered by your question. “I have.”

Your mouth parts into a little o. “With other Sixamians? Or….” Jungkook flushes, nods meekly. His expression seems off, like it isn’t a particular fond memory he carries. “Was it bad or something?” 

He sighs. “It is… very lacking. Nothing like the scenes depicted in your projection box.” He nods towards the TV, you barely contain a giggle at its name. You reach for your mug instead. “There is no,” he waves a hand in front of his face. The last rays of sun catch on his hand and turn his charcoal  markings a pretty gold. “No expressions of adoration beyond what is necessary. And I do not particularly enjoy that.” 

You nod understandingly. “You're soft,” you tease, watch his little triangles light up again at your words. “It’s okay,” you reassure him, “so am I.”

He says nothing, just stares blankly out the front window as the sun disappears behind the horizons, leaving thousands of glittering lights in its wake. Not man made but natural; right. “I think your last name is lovely,” he suddenly announces. You chuckle against the lip of your mug, but Jungkook doesn’t find it amusing. He turns to you with that sparkling purple gaze, like you’ve hung those stars outside yourself. “There is no other __ ___ like you.”

Your face feels warm, and you’re not sure if it’s from the coffee steam rising from the mug or Jungkook’s unexpected reassurance. It makes your heart tender, sends a shock through your system that leaves your body buzzing. “Thank you,” you say sincerely, covering the palm he rests over the couch with yours. 

Jungkook doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t need to. 

Ovulation ends, but your blossoming feelings for Jungkook do not go away. 

The next morning his comms remain shut off. Jungkook has never had his communications back home cut off, save for the time in his first era where he brashly spoke out against his superior in a lab. He was young and had much to learn, took too many risks and didn’t consider the consequences. He guesses he hasn’t grown much since then as he watches you tend to your garden. 

“Smilodon urinated in the closet,” he announces, witnessing the smile slowly slip off your features. He lets you revel in your annoyance for exactly two seconds before following with the phrase he heard on your box the other day. “Just kidding! You are being prank’d. 

Your frown is nothing like the expression the program’s contests exhibited following their supposed pranking. “Jungkook, that’s not funny,” you huff and his heart sinks. A soft snort. “Okay, maybe a little,” you concede with a terribly contained smile. 

He bounds over, kneels down beside you, and begins pulling the overgrown weeds out with you. “I saw it on the projection box the other day,” he explains excitedly, tossing the weeds into the bag between you two. “I did not know such pleasure could be received from silly broadcasts like that.” You nod, say something about all kinds of dumb shows existing before a pout taints your lips. “What's wrong?” 

A long sigh from you. “I think the sun isn’t reaching these,” you tell him, lifting the stem of a sad looking tomato plant. It’s the closest one to the house, often covered by the house’s shadow when the sun shines best. “They’re sad.”

He tilts his head to the side quizzically. “Sad?” he repeats, reaching for his wristband before he can stop to think. If his extensive journaling reads right, your planet’s vegetation follows similar patterns to that of another’s, requiring allotted amounts of sunlight and water to flourish. “How can it be sad?” 

Caught up in his notes, he doesn’t realize you’ve migrated to the other side of the garden now, dutifully picking out more weeds. “Well, it looks sad doesn’t it?” Jungkook glances back again. The tomato stalk is significantly droopy and malformed, smaller than its brethren who sit only a few inches away in direct sunlight. It’s colors are dulled and almost… sad. Huh. How peculiar. 

He chances one glance back at you, deems you far enough, and then channels the entirety of his energy towards the tomato plant. It wiggles a few times, kind of like it’s dancing, before you’re calling his name from the other side. “What’re you doing?” you ask, hand on your hip. Jungkook stills. 

“Um,” he drawls. The plant returns to its sulky state. 

Garbage bag full of weeds, you pass by him with a shake of your head. “Don’t do anything weird to my plants, silly,” you chide. Jungkook huffs, follows behind to take the bag off your hands. You thank him, join him for his walk around the house until he tosses the bag into the garbage can out front. Before he can retort and engage you in a playful argument regarding his superior abilities, you’re crouching down by the spigot out front. It’s making a weird hissing noise that has Jungkook frowning as he walks over. 

Right as he approaches, you make the amateur mistake of turning the handle, water spewing out from the gap between the spigot’s mouth and where it’s supposed to meet the hose. You screech, and Jungkook can’t shut it off fast enough. 

In the end, both of you are drenched. 

“Ugh,” you groan as you walk around the house to the unlocked back door. Jungkook trudges behind, just a teensy bit annoyed by the mud that quickly stains his rubber sandals. “This is so annoying!” you complain loudly, shaking yourself off like Smilodon when it accidentally fell into the sink the other day. “Ruined my day.”

At that Jungkook frowns. He does not want your day to be ruined, especially not by some faulty spigot outside. You were too good for such emotions, too perfect in his eyes. Sadness and the like did not suit you; they had no place ruining your beautiful features. You’re huffily patting yourself down at the back porch now, distress prominent on your features as you most likely consider the second load of laundry you will have to do today. 

The tomato stalk glances at him sadly from the ground, and before Jungkook can stop himself, he’s breathing in deeply and pushing his generally relaxed attitude onto you. You can be mad later, but right now Jungkook doesn’t want to see you sad. It’s effective immediately, your gloominess quickly fading away. You breathe in deeply, eyes falling shut, and when you open them again you’re offering him the most gentle smile he has ever seen. 

And a soaked through shirt that highlights the shape of your red undergarments. Jungkook’s eyes widen, unconsciously flicking down to the sight you present him with, and a different emotion floods his senses. 

It’s quite possibly his biggest mistake. Because while he can easily look away, it takes longer for those emotions to fade, and soon they’re being reflected on you. 

“Wow,” you exhale, shaking your head in confusion because these aren’t your emotions— you probably know they’re his. Jungkook feels terrible instantly. 

“I’m sorry,” he rushes out, scrambling up the steps to guide you inside. Simultaneously, he’s shutting down his influential abilities, scolding himself for slipping up with you like this. You most certainly did not want to feel this way around Jungkook, yet here he was quite literally projecting onto you. “Please, let’s go inside.” 

You nod, jolt when his hand touches the small of your back as he guides you in. “Oh,” you gasp, and Jungkook has to bite his lip to force himself from making the situation worse, from thinking thoughts you would not approve of. “Why— what's happening?” you ask in a breathy tone, lingering by the staircase Jungkook tries to push you up. 

He sighs. “I— I was trying to brighten your mood,” he admits, metaphorical ears pressed against his head like when Smilodon gets scolded for knocking down a plant. “And, um. There was— the, um, sight of your undergarments distracted me for a moment.” You glance down and seemingly become aware for the first time that your bright red bra is on display, shyly covering yourself with your arms. 

“Distracted?” you mumble softly, leaning against the banister of the stairs. Your skin is radiating more heat than Jungkook ever recalls, face demurely turned down towards the floor. He could have sworn he stopped projecting minutes again— why were you still behaving like this? Did he break you? Did he exude more energy than he meant to, accidentally extend the length of the emotions? “I’ll go upstairs now,” you announce quietly, touch his arm almost sensually as you pass by. 

Your skin is warm, that heavenly scent that Jungkook craved rolling off in waves— but he was certain he’d stopped himself before anything became too overwhelming. Were his emotions stronger than he had fooled himself into believing? There was no way he had felt or looked as riled up when he accidentally influenced you. So where exactly were these emotions coming from? What exactly was making you behave this way even after he’d withdrawn his influence? Could it be...

Jungkook watches with wide eyes, almost certain that your behavior, though sparked by his initial slip up, was entirely your own at this point. 

There was a lot of weight behind that. 

The water turns on upstairs, and he has to strain his ears, still his breathing, just for a hint of your sounds. But they’re there, quiet successors to the louder moans you’d let out the other day. They make him shiver, melt against the staircase as his cock twitches in his pants. His body comes alive, something distinctly carnal twitching beneath his skin, blossoming out at the base of his spine. 

And still, as he grinds his hand into his palm, it is not merely the sight of your red undergarments that render Jungkook useless. No, the ghost of your smile at his poorly executed prank follows, brands itself into the inside of his eyelids as he slowly falls apart. 

Was it your own emotions that had made you like that? he wonders, sinking to his knees in the hallway. If you came down right now, you’d certainly catch him. But Jungkook can still hear your muffled cries from upstairs, and furthermore, Jungkook wanted desperately for you to catch him. He knows you won’t, but the idea makes him shiver, has him coming in his bottoms shamefully. 

“What the,” he huffs, sweat trailing down his forehead. His brain replays that look in your eyes. That emotion you displayed that, although it may have been planted by him, was taken by you and magnified. Had you been just as excited by the sight of Jungkook’s wet body as he had yours? And if such was the case, was your attraction to him limited to the physical realm?

He doesn’t want to delude himself, but your words from the other day ring loudly in his ears. Soft, you had called him, for wanting something both physically and emotionally intimate. But you were the same, or so you claimed. 

Was it so wrong for Jungkook to think that ideology applied now?

That night you join Jungkook outside for his routine stargazing. He sits on the porch while you sit on your rocking chair, mugs of hot cocoa in hand as Jungkook retells his adventures across the universe. 

Space is bigger than you thought, with a culture far more complex than Earth’s. It makes you wonder how Jungkook, who has quite literally seen it all, can become so enamored with this place. There’s bigger and better somewhere out there; planets that won’t force terrible traditions on him or task him into ungodly missions. Yet he lingers here, in this quiet space between your garden and your house, head on your lap. 

His hair is soft, almost like silk, and he enjoys having it touched. “I do not wish to leave,” he admits quietly, empty mug long since set aside. You hum, encourage him to elaborate. “The beauty of the universe lies entirely on Planet 43 Z-7.” 

You snort. “No way,” you say, trace your hand down his jawline. Jungkook says nothing of your wandering hands, skin warm to the touch. Some of his markings decorate his neck, curl around the pale skin in perfectly symmetrical swoops. They creep beneath the hem of his shirt, and you wonder what they look like down there. 

You flush those thoughts away, that afternoon’s events still fresh in your mind. From your understanding of the events, Jungkook had been excited at the sight of your body, so he obviously had to hold some attraction towards you. But how much of that was purely physical and how much was emotional? 

“I want to have your last name,” he announces suddenly. You choke, breath caught in your throat from the randomness of the statement. Your reaction makes Jungkook pull away from your touch, stare at you with wide eyes like you do him. 

“I— what?” you stammer, having gained back your composure. Or at least some of it. “Jungkook, I don’t think you know what that means.”

He frowns, shuffles around until he’s facing you, and lays his head across your lap again. This time, those purple eyes that dance with nebulas and stardust zero in on you. His hair tickles your bare thighs, makes you unconsciously press them together when his warm breath fans across your skin. “You amaze me,” he murmurs, eyes glazed. “I have never seen a being like you, who lives so far off from society, thrive in their own bubble— is it too much for me to want to live like you? Be with you?”

“Huh?” you ask, ever so eloquently. 

Jungkook smiles, turns his face to hide it against you. Pink lips brush against your skin, your hands unconsciously shooting into his hair to guide him away. When his head rolls back, he’s got this rather melancholy look on his face. “The beauty of the universe lies entirely on Planet 43 Z-7,” he says again, “and I am looking right at her.” 

Your face burns. 

Heart hammering in your chest, palms sweaty, you don’t know what to say. He looks at you with that vibrant gaze, drinks you in like you’re the finest of wines and your heart absolutely cannot handle it. Your brain fumbles for a response but by then Jungkook is standing up, head tilted downwards cutely as he observes you. One hand in his, thumb gently swiping over your knuckles. “I would like to show you every expression of adoration possible, __,” he murmurs, presses a kiss to your knuckles before disappearing back inside. 

You stay outside, turning his words inside and out, backwards and forwards, until you deduce that Jungkook of Sixam most definitely harbored the same feelings for you as you did for him. It’s odd, because it is exactly what you want but the idea scares you to death. The last time you let a man into your life under a similar guise you ended up wasting years of your life, clinging to this grand finale you never got. And now this foreign being was proclaiming his feelings for you, possibly propositioning you for the same thing. 

Did you want Jungkook? Yes, undoubtedly yes. He was free from the shackles of tradition that had held you down so long, didn’t believe in this twisted notion of your body being “sacred.” He was a breath of fresh air, unlike anyone you’ve ever met before (although part of that was due to his alien heritage).

However, he was not free of flaws, and perhaps that is what entices you more.

Jungkook, though he looked and spoke like the perfect man, was a being of his own, with struggles of his own. He too had his own handful of painful memories, toxic ideologies that followed him around. But Jungkook was willing to learn, to change. And you admired him for it. 

Tip-toeing back inside, you find the house shrouded in darkness. The steady tick of the grandfather clock lessens the rapid beating of your heart. Jungkook is sitting on the living room couch, legs pulled to his chest. Muscle memory has you reaching out for the top of his head like always, ready to pat his fluffy hair as if you hadn’t just spent the last twenty minutes outside doing just that. He turns around just as your fingers touch his soft strands, purple eyes meeting yours. You trace your hand down the side of his face, knuckles brushing over his cheekbones; he puckers his lips, bestows a second tender smooch against you. 

“I like when you do that,” he says, voice unexpectedly loud in the otherwise silent house. As he speaks, he shifts to the side, arm thrown over the back of the couch to look at you completely. You swipe your thumb over his bottom lip and he gulps. “Makes me crazy.” 

You chuckle, releasing him to round the couch. Jungkook’s got this sweet smile on his face, hand outstretched for you. When you take it, he tugs you onto the couch, flush beside him. Your thigh is practically thrown over his, his other arm wrapped around your shoulders. You heart flutters and you can no longer look him in the eye. 

But that’s okay because Jungkook can. He ducks down, dark hair tickling your skin as his breath ghosts over your lips. “May I?” he asks softly, nose bumping against yours. “May I have the honor of pleasuring you?”

Your breath catches in your throat, answering with a tiny nod that makes his lower lip brush against yours teasingly. “I-If I am suitable,” you mumble, tingles spreading all over your body. 

Jungkook smiles, pretty and bright, as he turns his head to slot your mouths together. “No,” he says, “if I am suitable. You are more than enough.” Lips brush against yours, shaky breath meets yours, and then he’s kissing you. Slow yet suave, carefully molding against you as if he is afraid of breaking you. His lips are like two soft pillows, moving against yours in a practiced rhythm that makes you tremble against him. Every bit the measly virgin, but Jungkook likes you just so. 

He pulls away with a pop, his figure shadowed by the darkness of the room. But his eyes, purple irises, glow brightly. Like two pools of cosmic dust swirling around his dark pupils. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this before, but you hardly saw Jungkook in the dark anyway. He hides them too soon, eyes fluttering shut as he leans in again. 

The second time, there’s a faint flick of his tongue against your bottom lip. The action makes you gasp quietly, lips parting for a fraction of a second. But Jungkook is quick, slips his tongue past your lips. It’s lewd; his breath mingles with yours, tongue pushing against yours. Slick and dirty, spit traveling between your two mouths, but Jungkook makes sure you’re okay, sinfully wrapping his lips around your tongue when you get too brave. A moan escapes you, fingers squeezing around his. 

Jungkook squeezes back, pushes forward until you’re pressed against the back cushions of the couch. “This okay?” he husks, low-lidded eyes meeting yours when he pulls away. You nod, words caught in your throat. Jungkook’s gaze lasers in on your mouth, and he seems to have an internal debate before eventually pulling away to kiss your neck. 

You tilt your head back, choppy exhales creeping out from between your lips as he kisses down the column of your neck, untangling his hand from yours to press against your hip instead. It’s with a devastatingly slow speed that he eventually slinks away, finds himself kneeling between you on the floor with hands dancing over the tops of your thighs. Your heart is beating a thousand miles in your chest, threatening to rip itself right out when he meets your eyes a second time. 

He pushes your legs apart, not once looking away as he gently encourages you to raise one. Lips pressed against your knee, slowly trailing down the skin of your thigh. Your hand squeezes at the couch cushions. Jungkook pulls a startled yelp from you when he tugs at the backs of your knees, makes you slump down the couch with your legs perfectly spread out for him, feet flat on the floor. Then he’s back to kissing you, languidly pressing smooch after smooch against your scorching skin until he’s reaching the apex of your thighs, stilling once to look your way. 

“Go ahead,” you choke out, hands clutched over your chest, as if that’ll keep your heart from up and running away. Jungkook takes your admission and moves on, puckered lips meeting your mound through your clothing. It’s the first time you’ve ever had someone else so close to your most sensitive areas, and rightly so, you whimper. 

“Shh,” he soothes, thumb pressing against your hip as he carefully hikes one of your legs over his shoulder. You’re quivering like a leaf, lower lip bitten raw between your teeth as you watch him move between your legs. “I don’t wish to hurt you,” Jungkook murmurs. 

Another press of his mouth against you, this time right over where your bud hides, and the sensation makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. His fingers tighten around the waistband of your shorts, take your underwear with them when he begins pulling them down your hips. You push yourself up briefly, let him slide them down your legs and bare yourself to him for the first time. 

Your cheeks flood with warmth, hands unconsciously reaching to pull your shirt down, but Jungkook catches you. Fingers tangle with yours, warm breath fanning over your slick folds. Unconsciously, you tense up at his proximity, the stark realization that this was the moment you had waited for for a good chunk of your life suddenly hitting you. Jungkook seems to notice you crawl inside your head, drawing you back with a squeeze around your hand, luminous eyes meeting yours. 

“If you need me to stop, I will,” he reassures you.

The blood is rushing to your ears, his words nearly lost in the madness. “Aren’t you scared?” you ask quietly, voice wobbly, holding his hands so tightly you’re surprised he doesn’t complain.

Jungkook shakes his head. “No,” he answers. “Would you like to know how I feel?”

Hesitantly, you nod. Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut, but the little triangle markings beneath his eyes begin to glow. Like fireflies in the dark, two little lights that intensify as he exhales.

And then, suddenly, you’re flooded with a new wave of emotions, similar to yours but not. They feel like yours, but are distinctly his, make you arch against the cushions with a soft groan. 

At the forefront, lust that swarms your senses and makes your body melt into the couch beneath you. It makes you shiver, nipples peaked beneath your top as his feelings and their intensity grow on you. It feels like drowning, like swallowing a thick and sticky substance that lingers in your throat and refuses to go away. It’s how he feels about you at this moment, so strongly it could drown him. 

So overwhelmed with that sensation alone, you almost don’t recognize the second emotion that Jungkook takes and pours into you. 

Warm and comforting, like being embraced by a thousand doves, kissed by a swarm of butterflies. It’s different from the first, doesn’t tap directly into your physical body, but wraps around your heart, creeps into your thoughts. Until you’re rolling your eyes back open and meeting his, the feeling so plainly spelled out across his features. 

Sheer and utter adoration. 

“Oh,” you breathe, face scorching to the touch following the emotions Jungkook’s just revealed to you. 

He grins, shy, and squeezes your hand. “What do you want to do?”

Biting your lip, you take initiative and hook your knee over his shoulder, the same way he had shown you just moments prior. “Please,” you murmur, “show me more.”

And Jungkook does.

A soft kiss against the inside of your thigh, nose running along your skin teasingly. And then he’s faced with your puffy lips, pink skin slick with arousal. Jungkook sighs softly, tilts his head as if he’s analyzing his next course of action, and then carefully places his mouth against you. 

“Mmmh,” you whimper, hips instinctively bucking into the touch, never having felt such intense pleasure before. Jungkook doesn’t mind as he languidly kisses your folds, eyes shut as he loses himself in the motions. The first swipe of his tongue makes you twitch, arms flailing but Jungkook holds them down, entwined fingers pressed against the couch. 

His tongue is an entity of its own, wet muscle pressing and licking at your most sensitive areas like it was made specifically for this. Never mind talking, Jungkook’s tongue was made to lap at your pussy like this. He licks a long stripe up from your quivering hole to your engorged clit, curling at the end as if you were nothing more but a sweet for him to mindlessly play with. 

Your muscles clench up, the leg thrown around his shoulder unconsciously pulling him closer until his nose is pressed flush against your clit. Jungkook breathes in deeply, moans softly but it sends earth-shattering vibrations up your core until you’re a whimpering mess. “O-Oh,” you cry, sweat clinging to your skin as Jungkook continues lapping at your folds. 

He releases one hand, uses it to push your other leg further away to properly slot himself against you. You take the opportunity to wildly reach for him, grabby hands lost in the silky waves on his head as you urge him closer to where you need him most. You’re not even sure where that is anymore, your clit or your entrance, but Jungkook switches between the two just fine. 

That warm tongue prods at your entrance, tip sinking inside just enough to make you gasp. It’s a new experience for you, someone’s tongue touching and stroking you there, and it feels like an entirely new door opens from that action alone. You whimper his name, dig your nails across his scalp like maybe he’ll grant you a reprieve and pull away. But you don’t really want that, and so you’re happy when he stays where he is. 

The hand that had rested against the juncture of your hip glides up, lays flat over your mound with his thumb idly swirling around your clit. The combination of his tongue breaching your hole and his fingers playing along your clit makes you spasm. “Wait,” you sob, the muscles in your thighs twitching as he licks away. “I-I’m gonna—“

An overpowering wave of relief floods your senses shortly before that last syllable can escape your lips; everything goes tight and then suddenly you’re on a cloud, cum spilling from your heat and onto his waiting tongue. Jungkook licks it all up, slurps loudly against your clit as the last waves of your orgasm run their course. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing up your navel, t-shirt pushed away as he goes. 

When he reaches your face, you’re quite embarrassed to find the area around his mouth to be glistening with your juices. “You’re incredible,” he says, easygoing smile on his lips. But there’s something hard and heavy against you, snuggled between your thighs, that makes your face heat up all over again. 

You can’t find the words to respond, and lose the opportunity when Jungkook captures your lips with his again. He’s more assertive this time around, roughly pushing against you until you’re certain you’ll bruise. But it feels good, makes you wrap your hands around him as Jungkook grinds down against you. When he pulls away, he’s got this dark look on his face, out of place against such bright eyes. 

He says nothing as his hands creep up your waist, push your t-shirt and bra out of the way, until he’s cupping your breasts in his palms. Experienced hands massage them thoroughly, roll the soft skin between his fingers. His mouth is against yours again, tongues pressed together; Jungkook groans and the sound shoots straight between your thighs. He pinches a nipple between his fingers and you whimper, break away from his kiss to hide your face against his shoulder.

His cock is heavy against your folds, the thick material of his pants slowly stimulating you again. The cotton brushes against you, most certainly picks up your wetness as it goes, and Jungkook lets it as he continues to grind down against you with his hands on your tits. Your hands tear their way down his back, fist the material of his shirt in your hands. “Off, off,” you plead, desperate to feel more of him against you.

Jungkook complies, sitting up to yank his shirt over his head. You were right about his markings, dark swoops and circles that decorate his chest and abdomen before tapering down around his waist. Your mouth salivates at the sight, blindly reaching for your own clothes as if one look away will make him disappear. 

He doesn’t.

In fact, the removal of both your tops only makes Jungkook hungrier, completely abandoning your lips to suck your breast into his mouth instead. “Jungk— fuck,” you wail, slipping further down the couch as you lose yourself in Jungkook’s embrace. His teeth nibble at your swollen bud, roll the sensitive skin around before pulling off with a wet pop. 

Your breath jumps when he reaches behind you, corded arm locking around your waist as he repositions the two of you, unsatisfied with the previous position. He lifts you up with his undoubtedly superior strength, one palm beneath your thigh as he plops you down across the couch more comfortably, head neatly resting on a throw pillow. 

Your heart is in your throat, desperate to memorize the man before you, inked skin, lean and meaty, vibrant violet eyes that focus solely on you. Before he can join you on the couch, Jungkook steps away, tucks his thumbs into his waistband and swiftly removes them. His engorged cock, bigger than any you’ve seen in any erotic video— and that was saying a lot —springs up against his navel, flaming tip glaring right at you. Your pussy quivers at the sight. 

“Come here,” he husks out as he moves towards you. You welcome him with open arms, a soft groan of his name against his lips as he shoves his tongue past. His hands are everywhere now; one squeezes at your breast, hand molded to the flesh, while the other runs along the underside of your thigh, guides it over his waist. And another tickles around your navel, soft—

You shriek, eyes snapping open as you tug Jungkook over you as a shield. “What was that?” you heave, wide eyes roving over the dark living room, like maybe you’ll find Smilodon traversing the carpet and it was his silky tail that came too close. 

But Smilodon doesn’t usually appear at night, nor is there anything else in the living room with you and Jungkook. Your heart hammers in your chest, carefully meeting his dark gaze until something thin and distinctively alive appears over his shoulder. Another scream tears itself from your lips.

“Hey, hey,” Jungkook shushes, pulls away to cup your face in his hands. “Forgive me,” he says tenderly, “we are so similar, I forget you do not possess extra arms.”

You pale. “E-Extra arms?” you choke, eyes focused on the thin ‘arm’ that slinks out from behind Jungkook, almost screeching again when a second one appears on the opposite side. And then a third, a fourth. 

It is no arm, but rather… a tentacle? Sans the weird suction cups. They’re thin little things, no thicker than his wrist, that dance behind him as if they have a mind of their own. They move as if suspended in water, soft lilac skin tenderly touching yours. You shiver, its smooth skin odd against your supple flesh. Jungkook relaxes, but draws them back anyway. “Forgive me,” he says again, taking your hand in his to press a peck against it. Your heart flutters at the gesture that was slowly driving you insane. “I shall keep them at bay.”

You nod shakily, but cannot deny the curiosity that picks at you when they slink back into the base of his spine, blend seamlessly against his skin. “What… what do they do?” you ask tentatively. 

Jungkook hums as he descends upon you, featherlight kisses against your shoulder and up your neck. “Hmm? They help me out,” he explains mindlessly, pulling you flush against his cock again. A moan tears itself from your throat, eyes fluttering shut as you force yourself to focus on the moment again. 

But your hands unconsciously wander down his spine as he kisses you, circle the skin where your swear they had to have disappeared beneath, until Jungkook is pulling away with a confused expression on his face. “Would you like to see them again?” he asks quizzically, sweat forming along his hairline. 

You cannot play it off any longer; meekly, you nod. “I— they were interesting,” you admit in a quiet voice, nervously twiddling your fingers over your chest. 

Jungkook says nothing for a second, until he’s lightly chuckling and pressing a kiss against your cheek. “Okay,” he concedes, and goes back to rolling his hips against yours. 

About to protest, the words are robbed from your throat when something soft and blunt tickles your thigh. “Oh,” you shudder, prevailing through the initial shock as Jungkook’s ‘arm’ slides around the diameter of your thigh to brush against your cunt. It’s silky and smooth, pushes against your lips until it’s emerging past them, slipping inside of you.

You gasp, head lolling backwards as the sensation gets to you. It feels the same as your fingers do when you’re in the shower, but it moves differently, gauging your reactions as it curls within your walls. Jungkook muffles a low chuckle against your chin, kisses spread over you until his tongue is back down your throat.

“Feels good?” he asks, hot mouth against yours. You nod jerkily, hands digging into his biceps. Another appendage tickles around your waist, dips into your navel and makes you giggle. It’s a sound that’s frankly out of place amongst your moans and whimpers, but it makes Jungkook smile. It eventually moves away, continuing its soft caresses elsewhere. 

The one that plays in your pussy has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, jaw slack. Perfect for Jungkook who pushes and prods until his saliva is dripping down your throat, catching in the corners of your lips. It impossibly fattens inside of you, makes you choke just as a different one dances around your neck. “I— I,” you stutter, boneless beneath him as the soft tip traces around the column of your neck tenderly, lovingly. 

There’s so many different areas to focus on: one rubs comfortingly beneath your breast, while another fucks into your cunt. The contrast has your head spinning, unsure of where to look. 

There’s something about the one inside of you that makes you feel so sticky and wet, more so than before. Like it’s oozing something out, making the glide against your walls smoother than before. It makes your body tingle, sends a feeling down your spine that you’re almost certain isn’t normal. 

At the same time, there’s a brush along your thigh again, a tight coil around the flesh of your skin tightly that encourages your legs apart. More room for Jungkook to squeeze in. It wraps around you, slithers past its sibling and prods against your ass. Your heart skips a beat, buck into Jungkook’s embrace as it slips between your cheeks— you gasp. It releases that same substance that makes everything so wet. You tremble at the touch, body already so overwhelmed. 

Your attention is snatched away before anything can happen, Jungkook tugging you closer until the ridges of his cock are running along your folds, each push sending his goddamn tentacle deeper inside of you. You moan, hands shakily traversing his skin until you’re cupping his face in your palms. “More,” you hoarsely whisper, dazed eyes meeting his. “Please.”

Jungkook nods, presses one more kiss against your lips before shuffling around. The appendage inside of you swiftly recoils, has you shivering from the way it slips out of you so easily. As it finally emerges from your folds, you find it’s slick with cum and something slightly pink, sparkly and wet as if it’s got precum of its own. The sight amazes you, makes you want to touch it. Before you can, it’s moving again. Much to your surprise, it doesn’t go away, doesn’t return to hide within Jungkook’s body, but wraps around his cock tightly. Purple tendril against engorged skin, makes him sigh at the squeeze. 

He holds the base of his cock, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek as he regards you with an unrecognizable look. One hand on your thigh, fingers gripping tightly even before he’s done anything. “Tell me you want this,” he exhales, “please?” 

You nod hurriedly, hands reaching for his hips to urge him closer. “Want this,” you assure him, quiver when the head of his cock presses against your folds. Bigger than your fingers, bigger than that damned appendage, and it was going inside of you. “Want this so bad,” you whimper, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth. A squeeze around your breasts, a flick against your nipples. It’s not Jungkook’s hands, and that fact makes you shiver. 

They curl around your breasts, frame the mounds gently before the flatted tips meet your nipples, tease them with featherlight nudge. 

Eased by the certainty of your words, Jungkook relaxes. He places a hand on your hip, the other still holding his cock as he lines himself up with your throbbing entrance. You’re so wet, dripping in your own cum and whatever that tentacle released, thighs slippery and shiny. The anticipation in your chest swells, pushes against your rib cage until you’re afraid it’ll break. The little markings beneath his eyes flash and suddenly it’s gone, replaced with a sense of comfort that only doubles when he flashes you a tiny smile.

The first press of his cock makes your back arch, has you knocking every throw pillow off the couch as he slowly eases his way in. “Oh god—“ you sob, the sudden intrusion being questioned by every muscle in your body. Immediately, two of his tentacles snap forward, release their soft grip on your neck and their wrap around your breasts to caress up your sides, smooth ends practically kissing your skin with their soft nudges. 

They by no means lessen the pain, but their butterfly touches are a nice distraction that tickles your skin, makes you whimper softly as Jungkook slowly sinks into you. 

Jungkook ducks over you, tip of his nose against yours. “Breathe for me,” he instructs, even though his breath is labored against yours. One appendage cups your cheek, curls softly around your ear to hold your head still— you feel so spoiled with all the attention. You make an effort, breathe in swiftly through your nose as Jungkook pushes in deeper.

Slowly, the discomfort fades away. It melts and in its wake you’re left with a dull numbing sensation that starts in your toes and magnifies as it reaches your ears. It grows until the weight of his cock inside of you has you drooling, eyes unfocused as you watch Jungkook push himself to the hilt, the ridges of the tentacle wrapped around his cock making you jolt with every push. 

At the same time as his cock thrusts inside of you, a sneaky little thing continues it’s dance between your cheeks, pokes and kisses at your hole like it’s testing you. It is, really, because you've never had anything up your ass before— up until a few moments ago, you had barely had anything in your pussy. 

This was your first time, yet two seperate holes were begging to be filled, clenching tightly at Jungkook kisses along your chest, hands wound beneath the small of your back. The playful tentacle near your behind does just that— plays until you gently reach back for it, trembling hands giving it the go ahead it needs to finally plunge itself within you. Like an excited little being, it flutters against your hand a soft, kiss-like press against your palm before returning to its favored spot. 

It chooses the perfect moment to press in, takes advantage of Jungkook’s first few slow thrusts to slip its way inside. A loud moan tears itself from your throat, and Jungkook joins along. “I-I’m sorry,” he pants, mouth against yours. “I-I just want to feel you.”

You shake him off, body twitching from the utter fullness you felt, the weight in between your folds and your ass that moves in opposing strokes. His cock, wrapped in those bulging ridges, pushes in just as the tentacle in your rear pulls out, and the sensation is enough to make you whimper and sob. 

It feels good, amazing even, and you almost can’t believe it’s happening. Jungkook’s lips slot against yours, slow and lazy as he lets your body grow familiar with the stretch. He kisses you until the cat-like grip you have on his shoulders weakens, replaced with wandering hands that trail down his spine. The base of his spine where his protrusions appear is unique, makes him buck against you when you wrap your hands around one appendage.

“S-Sensitive,” he says as an apology, never mind the fact you want him desperately to fuck into you like that again. You voice such thoughts and Jungkook groans against your skin. “Really?” He chokes out, “I can move?”

One nod and then he’s off, for real this time. 

He’s slow at first, like he’s hesitant about hurting you, but you tuck one leg around him, pull him closer until he’s forced deeper inside of you, and from there everything is a downward spiral. You forget Jungkook of Sixam is superior for more than just one reason, harsh reminder given in the strong snap of his hips that would have otherwise sent you flying off the couch if that same strength wasn’t channeled into the arms he held you with. 

You reach for his hair, desperate to feel that comforting silk between your fingers, but then there’s something wrapping around your wrists. It pins your hands down, twists around your wrists twice before snaking up and curling along your fingers. Like it wants to hold your hand, wants to fill the spaces for Jungkook. The thought makes you burn, insides a boiling mess as he fucks into you, hands held down above your head.

“Jungkook,” you sob, squirming in his hold. It’s like whenever you move, there’s something there, holding you down or fucking you senseless. He responds with a grunt, roughly thrusting into you over and over until all you can manage is a series of hiccups. 

The ridges around his cock, the added thickness lended to him by his extra appendage, has every shove past your lips sending tingles like an ascending xylophone shooting throughout your body. The rhythmic stretches make you huff like a dog against him, brain fuzzy and overwhelmed. 

At the same time as he delivers killer grind after grind, another arm, the one that had been left out of the fray, slithers around your chest, looping twice around your frame and caging your breasts between them. Like bondage, except it’s Jungkook’s own body holding you down. 

You don’t think about the absurdity of it too much, couldn’t anyway. Your brain is a scrambled mess of Jungkook’s lips and incandescent eyes, lost in the purple galaxies and stars he holds, slowly slipping away from reality with each brutal thrust he gives. His name tumbles from your lips, and yours from his. He holds you like you’ll slip away, sweaty skin pulling you impossibly closer with each roll of his hips.

The thick appendage buried within your ass makes you squirm. It’s a tight fit, one you don’t get too stuck on because for every reprieve from its maniac thrusts you are met with the equally ferocious slam of Jungkook’s cock. So it stays in the back of your mind, this curling tentacle that stretches the tight rim of your ass apart. 

You were stuffed to the brim, eyes rolling back as you struggled to keep up. A soft brush along your jawline makes you gasp, before your mouth is tentatively filled with something soft and pulsing. Oh, you would die, you think, mindlessly sucking around the tentacle squeezed between your lips. It fattens in your mouth, pushes roughly against your tongue in rhythm with Jungkook’s cock. You cough, gag even, but it doesn’t move away. It drips a thick substance down your throat, disgustingly sweet. 

“Please, please,” he pants, quiet and lost among your own higher-pitched moans. Your leg hikes itself further up, accidentally brushes at the base of where two of his tentacles protrude, and Jungkook jolts against you. His cock presses so deep into your walls, you swear you feel him kiss your cervix. “__,” he pants, tongue lapping at the skin of your neck, picking up the sweat and replacing it with his thick saliva. “Be mine, please.”

Your heart pounds with the beat of a marching band's pace, loud thundering that competes against the slapping of Jungkook’s skin against yours. You whimper around the weight in your mouth, the idea he places in your head only fueling that lifelong dream of yours. Your grip around the appendages that hold your wrists down tightens, its faint heartbeat-like pulse felt between your fingers. 

“Let me be yours,” Jungkook moans, pulls out once only to slam his cock past your folds, hold himself there as your brain scrambles to rewire itself. As he says this, your mouth is freed, saliva and that sticky wet substance sloppily splattering across your lips and chin at the rather harsh exit. “And you will be mine.”

“Yes, yes!” you choke, dribbling drool down your chin.

It ends too soon.

Jungkook reaches a hand down, thumb feeling for your clit, but he’s pressed so tightly against you, it takes a second before the rough pad makes contact. That simple swipe, one half circle, is enough to make you unravel. “J-Jungkook,” you wail, biting down against his shoulder, “I’m—“

Your orgasm swallows you whole, his tentacle in your ass joining alongside you. It bursts inside of you, makes your ass leak with cum when it finally pulls out. 

“I’ve got you,” he shudders, stills when your pussy clenches down around him, creamy pleasure dripping down around his cock. Your cries fill the air, body falling slack against the couch as you struggle to recover. Your head is a foggy mess, clouded by the slow snap of Jungkook’s hips as he reaches his arousal. Each push against your folds feels even more intense now, overstimulated walls fluttering wildly around him as his cock slips in. 

His body stiffens and he swiftly pulls out, every ridge of his cock sucked back by your pussy, and when he finally frees himself— from your clenching walls and his tightly-gripping tentacle—he spills over your abdomen. Sticky and pink, like the strawberry lube you keep in your drawer, except its come out of Jungkook as a result of your rump in the sheets. 

As quickly as his body locked up, it slumps just as fast, heavy muscles and long limbs crashing down over you before you can react. 

“Jungkook—“

The sun shines in through the front window, wakes him from his slumber slowly and then all at once. He accidentally shifts into a patch of sunshine, the blinding light irritating his eyes until Jungkook is forced awake. His body aches but has never felt better, a weird sense of relaxation flooding his senses. For a moment, he is confused.

Eyes scan over the room, purple irises carefully calculating every bit of information until he catches sight of Smilodon’s furry tail and the memories of last night come swarming back in. He sits up quickly, whirling around for any glimpse of you, only to find you’re nowhere in sigh—

“Morning.” A small hand atop of his head, fingers stroking against his scalp. Instantly, Jungkook melts into the touch. 

You walk past him and into the kitchen, where you get to work making the usual breakfast for you and Jungkook. He watches you from the couch, naked beneath the blanket you’ve so graciously covered him with. The sun leaks into the kitchen, paints you in soft shades of orange as you amble around the area. 

The scent of hot cocoa fills the air, calling him to the space behind you after he dresses. “Good morning,” he says shyly, presses a kiss against your shoulder. Hesitantly, he lets his hands slide around your waist, lock over your navel. You don’t push him away, simply pat the side of his head as Jungkook snuggles into you. 

You don’t speak about last night and neither does he. You eat eggs for breakfast and Jungkook playfully knocks his foot against yours beneath the table. “Don’t play footsies with me,” you laugh. Jungkook quite likes footsies. 

Morning chores are skipped, pushed off in favor of sitting in front of the couch. You sit beside him, flush against his side, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. The projection box tells him about the weather, says something about a stock market, but other than that, it is relatively quiet. 

There is no mission to complete, no tradition to uphold. It is just Jungkook in this new and not as scary world. The mailman always visits, and Smilodon shows his face every now and then. It is a routine he adores, but not as much as the Human at his side.

He doesn’t remember taking his headpiece off until it beeps from its spot on the coffee table, three distinctive chirps that signal an incoming call from the Higher Sixamian Court.

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[batz]

PLEASE talk more abt yr hlvrai design choices i would love 2 see tht!!! :]

OK ill explain a bit! im dozing off rn so pls understand that i dont know how to write or type.

ill probably do a little more indepth so i base a lot of my character designs on how the voice sounds. like what would this character look like based off how they sound, sounds can have shapes so voices can have shapes. little uh motifs i guess? in voice? also, more obvious, design based off personality and also (very loosely) based off the models.

i came up with the designs half way through watching act two. i think only the first ep of act 3 was out at the time so it was EARLY days there wasnt even funny halve live fandom yet rlly. but YEAH so i got to make designs without too much influence from others which is awesome

gordon is comedic straight man normal guy (even tho hes Not normal) hes very generic, kinda scruffy. hes the Main Character and i wanted him to ve very Main Character. hes built like a rectangle, but softer edges. kinda goes along w his voice honestly. just a dude youd see in the line at starbucks or smthn. cartoony glasses w weird dot eyes trope thnak YOU... gordon normal voice syndrome m gettin NOTHIN from this guy he also has a mullet u just cant see it w the ponytail

benrey looks human and is pretty human. bc my art style is the way it is. hes built like a squircle, very wide and imposing but not in a threatening way, in an agitating way. he looks pliable and soft, like playdoh. he doesnt emote, and when he does the expression is forced and awkward. hes an alien after all, and is kinda still getting used to the whole Human Body Thing. benreys voice sounds round!

(gordon and benrey dont have contrasting designs but they have a lot of similarities in both shape and build. bc i dont see them as direct opposites and see them more similar if anything. they dont contrast since Everyone antagonizes gordon one way or another.)

bubby is the definition of Prickly Old Bastard, literally and figuratively. not approachable but generally nonthreatening (somewhat). hes on Edge, easily agitated and uptight, thats why hes always wearing a turtleneck or his shirt collar goes up to his head almost lookin uncomfortably tight. wanted him to contrast coomer..! a lot of the lil details of his design face upwards and inwards. bubbys voice sounds angular!

coomer is round and soft, hes fat bc hes a boxer and also bc it makes him look sweet and approachable, even though hes a very dangerous always-ticking timebomb. i wanted him to look visibly strong but not anime-buff, and also wanted him to contrast bubbys design in almost every way, which is why he changed so drastically compared to my first hlvai art. a lot of the lil details of his design face downwards and inwards. coomers voice sounds round!

(note how coomer and bubby have contrasting character designs but still have similar aspects to them. i wanted them to have a statler/waldorf or bunsen/beaker situation,where theyre obviously a duo. theyre both da shortest in the science team...same height)

tommy is tall and has been since my first piece of hlvai fanart. i just LOVE softer almost unassuming characters standing out like a sore thumb and that MAINLY being bc theyre tall. his voice sounds very tall too, i wish i could explain how or why. baaulp said tommy was a cross between the secretary in twin peaks and pee wee herman and i ran with that. awkward beanpole that wears the same outfit everyday. loose spaghetti noodl. wobbly nd fluid never stiff!!

darnold is my newest design concept and i wanted him to be soda can shaped!!! thats honestly it, he was the easiest one to get. i had his design in mind since i watched the act 4 vod before the episodes were actually released. hes similar to gordon where i wanted to give him this Normal Guy Dad Look. his designs a lot less complex since i used the soda can shape concept AND jusr how his voice sounds.....

anyway when wayne talked abt my designs on stream i Died and also i feel like thats when they were adopted by a lot of the fandom and slowly started mutating into what the general fanon designs are now. except for coomer and darnold who im Sure i based off other folks' designs! same w some of benrey im sure. idk early hlvai fandom days r blurry bc my brain doesnt WORK

its 8am rigut now im passing out while i wanna make a better more informative post abt character design stuff inregards to Halve Live bc i LOVE to talk abt character design i love cartoons

[signaturedish]

What was OP thinking when Harry asked him to rename him? And then his happy dancing? Bc tbh that was cute as hell and OP just—fritzing was also funny

Aww thanks, I had a lot of fun writing such an adorable scene!

Sorry about the wait, I got a weirdly intense influx of business. Idk why every third family in my area had to vacation right now.

I’m just gonna jump right into it, since I really did love that scene and would be happy to expand on it a little further.

At first he was completely shocked. He really thought it was gonna be Ratchet who named him if Harry was gonna pick a new name at all, so that came right out of nowhere. 

And then when Harry asks about shooting him down, some jaded part of Optimus wonders if Harry simply doesn’t want a new name and is using Optimus’ comparatively calmer presence to come to terms with that.

He was glad to provide security, it was his duty, but it would be unwise to hope for more.

As a Prime and then, later, as the Prime who banished the Allspark, he hadn’t ever thought he’d have the opportunity to name a sparkling. He hadn’t even considered it, the notion was so far past what he felt could he had the right to expect.

Still, on the off-chance Harry was being sincere, no matter how unlikely, he would give Harry the one and only name Prime would ever give another being.

He spent the entire night silent and apart from the others, contemplating all he knew of Harry. They hadn’t interacted directly very often, but Prime was always watching, always checking on the physical and spiritual wellbeing of their youngest charge.

It was a difficult decision.

What he’d seen, since their very first day at the base, was humbling. Harry was a gentle creature, naturally empathetic with a strong sense of justice. Genuinely good sparks like that were rare to the point of nonexistence now, an age of battle and death had tarnished even the most honorable of Autobots by the end. 

Besides that, how could Prime concisely summarise even a vague approximation of the hopes and wishes pinned on Harry at this very moment? The first child in a millennia, holder of the Allspark, alien-born, so much of him was new and stunningly bright in their darkest hour.

When Harry finally reconvenes with him the following morning, Prime awaits his decision. He’ll make his peace with whatever Harry decides, whether it be to ignore him completely, contemplate the matter further, or demand his answer as soon as they come to a halt out beyond the base.

It was then, when Harry did ask for a name, that he understood his own caution to be a complete lie. He hadn’t realized how much of himself he’d invested in this endeavor, how unfathomably precious this moment would be to him, until Harry peered up at him oh so shyly, and requested Prime’s designation.

This wasn’t a duty, Prime realized past the searing ache of his own spark expanding far past the limits of its casing, it was a gift in every meaning of the word. And he had been desperate to recieve it.

It was all he could do to croak out his heartfelt gratitude. Wonder was such a rare thing to feel, and yet Prime felt fit to bursting. He had inspired within the last sparkling enough trust and affection to allow him a lifelong connection, and he wasn’t terribly certain how to exist in a world wondrous enough for that to occur.

He can see it the moment Harry accepts, the flurry of coding burrowing it into the deepest recesses of Harry’s processors, overwriting and overruling until it is Silverline who looks back at him. 

And Prime...soaks it in. Like a flower towards the sun, he is enraptured. For once, he is not a Prime staring down at his charge, that is much too plain for what he’s feeling. Formalities and obligations withered and died in the intensity of his own vulnerability. Here, he is simply Optimus, watching over his child. 

Silverline warbles a simple thanks over his com, as if he hadn’t given him the greatest blessing Prime could dream of, as if Prime could part with any of his own gratitude and share it with the sparkling. He is helpless to communicate this, though. The appropriate words too grand and complicated to fit past the lump in his throat.

Silverline’s expressive optics shimmer with gentle care, his posture is open and utterly relaxed, and his charming little wings pluck and pull at his heartstrings with every swoop.

Optimus doesn’t dare reach out and interrupt the sparkling, he’s never had the privilege of being so close to Silverline without a pall snuffing out any of his natural light and he couldn’t bear to ruin this moment stumbling through affection. Silverline’s happiness was dazzling at it’s brightest, it was easy to see how his troops might become possessive over this feeling.

Then, the world melts.

A syrupy, honey-sweet haze slogs Optimus’ processors to a crawl. His spark skips. splutters, and dies right in his chest and Optimus can only watch as overheating warnings and system failures roll in.

Muddled and confused, Optimus waits for the burning fire in his fuel pump to ease and for death to take him.

Except, he doesn’t die? It feels like he should be dead by now, he has most certainly ceased functioning. But as one second, two seconds, fifteen seconds carries on without him, he remains trapped in place.

True awareness swam just before him, elusive, but close enough to that snippets of stimuli brushed him. It was overwhelming, a tidal wave of excruciating emotions, none of which were upsetting, but that only made them more confusing.

His feeble matrix buzzed and whirred with the effort to drag him to the forefront of himself, and he is forced to process the audio data first. It is a purring hum, low and easy. It is a single note that snatches him up by his very core and yanks him out of his daze.

It is an optimal status alert, and it is directed solely at him.

If there were air left in his vents, Optimus might’ve choked. He was left reeling, the burning in his fuel pump ticking higher and higher as what he understood that it must be elation scorching through him. Satisfaction, praise at its highest, acceptance at it’s deepest, a bot wasn’t built to withstand such a brutal onslaught of unrefined joy.

His visual data was processed next, unrelenting, and the sweet haze gumming up his processors doubled its efforts.

Silverline was killing him, Optimus was sure. It was the most deadly, precious attack he’d ever witnessed.

Silverline was dancing. His paper thin wings fluttering wide and trusting, his optics huge and bright and focused right on Optimus. His steps were spiraling, childish, shrouded in Optimus’ shadow as Silverline danced mere inches from him. The optimal status alert hikes higher in volume with each almost-brush of armor, and Optimus couldn’t have torn himself away for all the galaxy.

I trust you, Silverline said in so much more than words, I love you. Stay with me and love me too.

It was a moment of intimacy that would only feel like hello in hindsight. Like they were finally reaching each other, like a bond could be forged. Whatever struggles cluttered their path were at once, easily defeated so long as they stayed together.

Optimus drifted in the euphoria of that connection. In so fiercely loving and being loved in return that he was rooted in place like an insect in warm amber. He could’ve stayed like that for eons, or until Silverline did something else so unreasonably dear that he really did crash.

Thankfully, although he did not feel very charitably toward Bumblebee in that moment, the scout shattered his amber with a loud radio clip and ushered Silverline back to their human charges with a teasing whistle.

Creaking, aged and wizened beyond his admittedly formidable years, Prime straightens and tries to look less wrecked. From the aura of smugness permeating the air, he isn’t succeeding.

-Ventilate, Prime- Bumblebee eventually suggests, and it is only then that it occurs to him that he should do something about the overheating problem reaching critical temperatures in his systems.

He ventilates.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Weird, “M-Flu.”

Here is a little fluff for you all bc today I am also posting another chapter.

Sorry about the wait but I decided to take a bit of a hiatus over Thanksgiving, but now I am back :) 

It was early December, or so the humans said. Krill had never really understood the human’s need to split up time like that. The Vrul did, of course, keep track of their planet’s revolution around their star but that was simply numerically based rather than starting the count over every month like the humans did. 

It had been a bit busier than usual which was rather odd. You would think, on a spaceship, that illnesses would be relatively common due to the closed in area with a bunch of people side by side, and that it would not be affected by the time of year like it was on earth. However, he supposed that allowing the humans leave planetside so close to their sickest season was probably the reason.

Still blew his mind to  consider that humans had a time of year where epidemics and pandemics were more common. So common, in fact, that the humans just accepted getting sick as a fact of life, and often continued to go to work and be around other people during that time. Of course, this behavior used to be worse, but even with the widespread use of surgical masks during sickness, things still continued to spread.

He found himself, pleased, once again that he was incapable of catching human illnesses, though he did his best to stay away from plant life on other planets seeing as you never knew what he could catch from other species of plant, to which he was more similar than he was to animals like the humans or the Drev.

He reached upwards and plucked a clipboard from one of the nurses before turning towards the door and scuttling out.. He needed to go speak with the commander about the increased rate of infectivity aboard the ship. He was under the impression it would be best to begin a quarantine on some of the more sick patients. Yes it was true that the average human would not be taken out by the flu, but by his calculations it greatly decreased productivity.

Better to keep humans healthy and lose a few people than it was to allow everyone to only work at half capacity.

He greeted members of the crew as he floated the stairs and onto the bridge stepping through the door and approaching the captain’s chair… a chair which was empty…. That was strange? This was around the time the commander went over ship diagnostics. He did this every morning and despite being a very impulsive man who wasn’t prone to keeping schedule, this was a part of his day he didn’t tend to change.

Krill spun in a wide circle looking around trying to find the man as if he expected to see him hanging from the ceiling, though, now that he thought about it. He totally expected to see something like that.

There was a clatter on the stairs behind him, and he turned to find Sunny stepping into the room.

She looked around in equal confusion to him.

“Good morning.” She said in the traditional human greeting, “Have you seen Adam?”

Krill shook his head, another human gesture, “I was just about to ask you the same thing.” He held up the clipboard he was holding , “I came to speak to him about medical protocol aboard the ship.

Sunny hummed, “Well, I came to him about, this.” SHe turned and pointed downwards just in time for Krill to see three of the spiderlings clambering their way up the steps mewling and growling angrily on their way after Sunny. Krill inflated his helium sack and hovered out of reach of the spiderlings, who honestly scared the hell out of him, especially Glados.

Sunny stuck out a foot trying to hold the aforementioned monster at bay, but all three of them continued to squeal and chirp. 

“That’s strange.” Krill began, they never left Adam’s side if they could help it, and Glados didn’t particularly like sunny all that much, so none of this made particular sense. Hal, the smallest of the spiderlings chirped the little vocal folds at the back of it’s throat oscillating and vibrating. It was an ALMOST human sound but as if heard from a distorted speaker. 

It was actually kind of freaky.

“Where is Conn, maybe he’d know what’s going on.”

“Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear.” The electronic voice responded from behind them. From the other end of the room, Conn floated forward, his solar ribbons billowing out behind him in long undulating tendrils. Lights on the signing gloves lit up as he made the human language gestures which were then converted into words by way of a speaker, “They are very unhappy…. Worried even.”

Sunny shifted nervously, “What do you mean.”

“I’m not entirely sure. Their language is very rudimentary you see. Their language centers are not completely developed enough for me to read their minds. I can only sense feelings only to a certain degree.” He paused, “It is a smell, a bad smell a dangerous smell.” He tilted his head to the side.

Sunny glanced towards Krill, “Gas leak?”

Conn shook his head, “No….. it seems….. Biological if that makes any sense to you, not that I entirely understand what that means.”

“Latrine backup.” Sunny commented wryly unable to help herself.

Krill glared at her, “very helpful of you, Sunny. Glad to see you humor has evolved to be so refined.”  

“Glad to see you even knew that was intended as a joke.”

The Spiderlings squealed again just as the sound of shuffling footsteps, and something dragging across the ground reached their ears.

Thud, thud, thud onto the metal catwalk.

Together, the two of them turned just in time to see the commander haul himself onto the bridge. Or at least, it looked like something that should have been the commander. His face was flushed bright red especially around the cheeks and neck. His eyes were red and puffy with dark circles under them. His hair was matted with sweat. He was wrapped in a large blanket like a cape which dragged on the ground behind him.

He hadn’t changed from his sweatpants.

And he was shivering violently despite both a long sleeve shirt, a hoodie, and the blanket.

He looked like a zombie.

Krill and Sunny watched as he oozed past like some sort of zombie hybrid slug and slumped into the captain’s chair. His sniffled a bit before erupting into a violent coughing fit. The sound was wet and rattling, a clear sign of chest congestion. 

Waffles, the dog, followed at his feet with clear concern in her large brown eyes.

The human snuffled again.

He turned to look at them from the depths of his hoodie and blanket cloak, “I think I’m dying.” he said sounding rather resigned to that fact.

Sunny looked nervous and went to step forward, but Kril held her off, “Wait there, and keep the spiderlings away.” he moved forward floating to the human’s head height. Even without his thermal vision he could feel the heat radiating from the human’s body, but still he switched receptors for a proper look.

One hundred and four degrees by the human’s reckoning.

“Sick for sure commander. Sunny head down to the medical bay and order that quarantine protocol. I was going to ask the commander about it, but he hardly seems capable of giving orders at the moment. Have his second take over and then get someone to babysit the spiderlings. Take them to Ramirez and Maverick, they get along well enough.

“Quarantine.” The commander muttered.

“Yes commander, we have alien lifeforms aboard the ship, and no way to know how the illness will affect them. Furthermore we want to make sure no one else catches it.”

“I think I am dying.” The man repeated absently groaning quietly as his shivering grew worse. 

“Don’t say that commander, you’re making me nervous. Save the announcements of death till after our tests.”

“Such a Diva.” Sunny commented trying to be funny though she sounded more concerned.

“Go on.” Krill ordered, and she did as told, scooping up the mewling spiderlings and walking from the room. Krill got the commander back to his feet and heard the sniffling coughing humans down the hallway. He was hunched over like some sort of invalid and moved more slowly than Krill, who was arguably the slowest being on the ship.

“Come on, Commander.”

“I don’t think I can make it.” The human sniffled piteously.

“Well you better because no one is going to carry you, now come on.” contrary to the human’s earlier statement, they made it to the medical bay in one peace. By Krill’s orders the rest of the medical team was ready with the protocol all wearing masks, gloves and surgical glasses. Perhaps they saw the entire thing as overkill, but he didn’t want anyone else getting sick.

They sat the human down on one of the medical beds, and Krill proceeded to learn that their Commander was quite pathetic when he was sick. This coming from a human who would run into dangerous situations skipping and singing show tunes now whimpered complaints and begged for medicine.

Halfway through their examination, another human came walking onto the bridge. 

Narobi from down in engineering. She stood straight and tall but Krill immediately noticed her elevated body temperature. Her dark skin made the ravaging heat less obvious, but her reddened eyes and the beads of sweat collecting on her forehead was enough. Though comparatively he wouldn't have been able to tell something was wrong otherwise. She was dressed in her engineering jumpsuit, and was rather well put together.

Krill glanced between her and the commander who lay mewling on the bed like an overly vocal puddle.

She smiled wryly, “I see I am not the only one then?” her voice was scratchy and somewhat congested. She was forced to clear her throat at least once the deep rattling in her chest also present.

“Krill walked over to her.”

“Symptoms.”

She took a polite seat on the edge of one of the beds, “Fever, chills, aches, cough, nausea, dizziness..” 

Krill glanced over at the commander again, who had his single eye trained on them and had suddenly stopped complaining.

He smiled inwardly,. Narobi was looking at him too with a raised eyebrow, “Good morning commander.”

He sat up slowly stifling a cough, “Good morning, Narobi.” he tried to stifle a shiver.

A wry smile, “Don’t let me interrupt commander. It was a stirring performance, I am close to tears.” Krill wasn’t exactly the best with detecting sarcasm made worse by the fact that her face did not change once while she said that sentence, so he couldn't be entirely sure if she was being facetious or not.

He began to cough again, “I Wasn't acting.” he grumbled defensively looking at her with a serious expression. That didn’t last long however as he was overcome with a violent bout of shivering and a cough eventually leaning back eyes watering form violent outburst one hand on his chest, “Never mind, this is bullshit. Go on just sit there and be a badass, I'll just be over here dying and looking pathetic.”

“Man flu?” She wondered wryly

“You know what,-” Cough, “I will have you know that that is totally a real thing, and I will not be shamed for it.”

Krill turned from his work, “Actually, according to our tests. Both  of you have the flu. The same strain probably got it at the same time. We will have to monitor the rest of the crew to make sure it does not spread further than the two of you before determining how dangerous it will be to other species especially the Drev. IN the interest of keeping the rest of the crew healthy for the time being, both of you will be isolated and monitored here.”

“Don’t you think that is going a bit overboard?” Narobi wondered 

The commander moaned.

“Actually, I think you humans don’t take illness seriously enough. Just because something is normal, doesn’t mean it's acceptable, and letting people suffer by themselves or allowing them to contaminate other people isn’t acceptable in my hospital.”

There was no arguing with the little doctor as he ordered the humans moved into the clear plastic contamination chamber and ordered to change. Both now wearing light blue scrubs they were ordered into bed, which of course the commander whined that he was still cold and had to be brought a stack of blankets with the great inner eye rolling of Krill, who, had learned from dr Katie, that they were not likely to die from such an illness, so he didn’t have to be THAT worried. Though he was still a little worried, and quickly moved to disguise his concern with a businesslike manner.

When Sunny came to visit that night she was distrubed by what she saw. She had never actually seen a sick human before, which was a wonder considering how long she had been on the ship. The powerful creatures she had come to know as indomitable were curled up in the darkness in isolation. Both of them were shivering between painful coughing fits. Their skin was pale and both were drenched in sweat.

The commander had, over the course of the last few hours slid down from the bed with all the pillows and blankets he had acquired and made some sort of delirious makeshift nest for himself on the floor the pillows being the base and the blankets wrapped around him like a human filled burrito only his mouth and nose being entirely visible. The other human was curled up on her side head resting on one arm.

She sighed quietly.

At her feet the dog whimpered as she looked through the clear plastic drape.

Sunny looked towards Krill with worry, “Are ... are they ok?”

Krill walked to stand next to Sunny, “It looks ugly, but Dr. Katie tells me that thousands of humans get it every year and survive without medical intervention, so they should be ok.”

Sunny glanced towards the containment opening.

“IS it contagious.”

He glanced over at her and then sighed realizing what she planned on doing, “With this strain, only for humans.”  With their unspoken agreement made, she stepped forward and unzipped the outer layer whistling for the dog who jumped in after her. She close it off and then opened the door into the other room closing it behind her.

The interior was hot and muggy, and there was a strange smell on the air.

IF sunny knew one thing about humans, it was how social they were. If that was the case, it just seemed wrong to her to leave them suffering alone in the dark. She was about to head towards the commander when the other human curled up and shivering caught her eye. With  a call she motioned the dog over patting the bed next to the human. The dog, seeming happy enough to help jumped up next to the human and lay down immediately.

Sunny was pleased at the smile smile she received from, closed-eyes human who reached out a hand and began stroking the dog’s velvety ears. The dog scooted closer curled up against the human’s stomach. The human wrapped an arm around the dog, and maybe it was just Sunny’s imagination, but thought the human’s shivering died somewhat.

Pleased that one of the humans was taken care of, she walked over to where Adam was curled up on the floor shivering and coughing. He sighed in an agonistic sort of way. She grabbed a cup from the side table and filled it with water returning to the human.

She knelt next to him and prodded him through the blankets, “Adam.”

The human shifted sitting up from inside his cocoon. 

She had noticed that habit some humans had, especially him. Upset, in pain, sick, they liked to make nests for themselves out of anything comfortable and fluffy in the immediate area. He looked at her with bleary eyes shivering, “Sunny..?” His skin was cold and clammy, and she could see the wet patches from sweat on his chest and stomach. He would be losing water quickly like that.

She handed him the water, “Drink, or Krill is going to get an IV on you instead.” The human grumbled but complied.

He finished the water but was hit with another racking cough that had him doubled over. Sunny sat back in worried confusion. The human sat up snuffling and groaned, “my back.” He muttered, “hurts so bad, but it’s so cold.” 

Sunny held out a hand to feel the heat radiating from the human’s skin.

She wasn’t entirely convinced about the cold thing, but took him at his word piling his blankets back on top of him.

She stood and returned to the other human urging a cup of water into her hand before returning to Adam, who had burrowed himself away like some kind of slimy lizard. She took a seat next to him learning against the wall and nodded to Krill who watched her from the outside. He would have been able to come in too, but he was dealing with other patients at the moment. 

She leaned back against the wall dozing a bit woken at some point in the darkness as something moved close to her crawling up to rest itself on her legs. She looked down to find the pile of blankets and pillows shifted next to her human pressed up against her. She pulled the blankets back curiously only to find the human looking worse than ever.

His eye had a strange glassy quality, he had stopped shivering but for a subdued tremor. The eye closed and he slumped against the ground half asleep or nearly dead she wouldn't have been able to tell accept for the back and forth movement of his head as he began to dream. 

He moaned in pain or fear she still wasn’t sure..

She grabbed the human with her lower arms and adjusted his blankets with the others letting him rest in her lap hoping whatever he was dreaming about would subside before it woke him up. It scared her to watch  as the virus ravaged through the human’s body. He thrashed in his sleep disquieted waking up only to fall asleep again in the same cycle. His breathing was raspy and labored. HIs body quaked with the cold one moment, and then he was pushing the blankets away for the extreme heat in the next moment. The coughing was the worst, beginning with full body spasms and ending with the human hunched over in agony at the end the shivering causing the already aching muscles even greater pain worsened by coughing. Sunny tried to help tried to get the two humans as much water as she could.

On the other side of the room, the dog licked the human’s arm in sympathy as she shivered. She had to leave in the morning to get her duties finished decontaminated before leaving, and came back later that evening when the dog was getting up from Adam to move back to the other human.

Sunny looked at Krill for an update.

He shook his head, “They woke up, but they didn’t eat. Been resting pretty uneasily, Commander says he keeps having nightmares. Narobi reports her dreams aren't exactly pleasant either. Dog seems to help, she's been keeping them good company.”

Sunny nodded, “It looks so…. Painful.” 

“You have anything like it on your planet?”  He wondered.

“Rot lung I guess, but its slower, sort of a lifelong thing…. I suppose you can also get infections caused by wounds, and there are a few others, but nothing like this.”

He nodded, “We can get skin rot pretty easily, but we have dealt with it. The blight is pretty bad and can leave you deformed…. I just can’t believe they find something like this normal.” 

“I’m gonna head back in, seems kind of wrong to keep the humans isolated.”

Krill didn’t argue letting her return to check on the far human first. Setting up some more water, stroking the dog’s ears and then returning to Adam. He was asleep as of just then half in and half out of his blankets like he couldn’t decide whether he was warm or cold. She wrapped him back up, and he absently curled up against her in his sleep. His hand rested against the floor leaving a humid mark behind it once she tucked it back in his blankets.

The worst of the symptoms lasted for three days with the humans only getting up to drink some water and go to the bathroom.

By the fourth morning Sunny was sitting in her usual spot as the human shifted and sat up.

He touched a hand to his forehead, and turning to look at him she found the redness gone from his face from the fever that had been raging past two days.

He glanced over at her looking a bit surprised, “Shit…. I thought I dreamed you being here the whole time.”

“No, I determined it was improper to leave humans isolated.”

He coughed lightly and winced, “Sure you did….” He either winked at her or just blinked, with only one eye she had trouble telling, “keeping acting like this and people are going to start thinking you like me.”

She snorted and pushed him over with one hand, “Go back to sleep you big idiot.”

He didn’t sit back up,”Mmmm probably a good idea. I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

“You look like you got hit by a truck.”

He rolled over trying to make himself comfortable, “Rude.”

She leaned her head back against the wall, “What…. Did that feel like? I have never seen anything like it before…. It scared me.”

The human snorted then coughed again, “Depends on what you’re asking about. Your throat hurts like your esophagus is lined in sandpaper, your face hurts because of the pressure in your nose from the swelling and all the gunk in your sinuses. Your entire body just aches made worse by the shivering which makes those muscles hurt more. Then the coughing comes in, and that just adds to the issue and it hurts your throat. Your chest is congested so it's hard to breathe, and it hurts. Generally your head hurts too, and your fever is so high it's just hard to think. When you sleep it isnt well and the dreams are weird as shit. At the worst of it, you're not even sure if you are awake or not….. Short answer is it sucks.”

“I’m sorry….. You humans really got dealt a shit hand…. I never thought it would be so….”

“Easy to take out a human?” 

“Yeah…”

“Id say a lot of the stuff we evolved to survive also made our lives shit….. The fever comes to kill off the virus or bacteria or whatever, but it can also cause brain damage if it goes to high, which is kind of a bummer, plus it feels terrible.”

She patted his shoulder in sympathy.

He curled up and sighed, no longer shivering and promptly fell back asleep.

By the fifth day, the humans were sitting up and eating and even walking around a little. Day six they were declared no longer contagious but ordered to wear surgical masks. Still they were left weak achy and commander vir spent much of the time sleeping curled up in another makeshift nest, this time in his own rooms.

The other human approached sunny upon leaving grabbing her by the arm to stop her before, “Thank you, Sunny…. I know you were really there for the commander, but I appreciate you thinking of me.”

Sunny tilted her head in surprise confused that the human would thank her for something so minor, by the time sunny had thought of anything to say, the other human was already gone.

She thought she now understood why ril was always so worried about his humans.

Humans getting sick was actually kind of scary.

She didn’t like it

[k-i-ssmyash]

Pls I would love to hear your analysis on why those mitski songs fit each iz boy (feel free to ignore this but if you'd like do tell bcs I think it is interesting B) )

Oh buddy you've made a mistake. You'd love to hear the analysis? Well I love to talk; I hope your ready for the absolute word vomit and rambling that's under the cut. But yeah, no, i'll never turn down asks like this! Interact with me! I'm but a simple, lonely tumblr hermit.

Let's start off with the first post containing Zim and referencing A Pearl. I tie this song in with his (fandom assumed) character development and how it effects both his mental state, Dib, and his ideology of the Irken Empire as a whole. In a way, I think a lot of us over-sympathize or find common ground with our alien and it prompts us to victimize him and excuse a lot of his actions. And for good reasons honestly? It's easy to do so consider that he was born under the rule of a tyrannical society where flaws are looked down upon. He does wrong but to him it's not exactly wrong, is it? It's unfair to judge him and scrutinize him the same way we do humans. The show is slap-stick at it's core and despite the grim and black-humor based undertones, not much is taken seriously. Although it often ends up in failure, everything he attempts to do is to better the empire, to receive recognition from the beings they hail to about the same degree as a deity. The long and short of it is that he wants to make the Tallest happy. To prove that he's worth their time and that he can live up to everything he dreamed he could be, but the truth is that he can't. He loves the people that hate him the most. It's an abusive relationship at it's finest, really. So he picks up the most unhealthy coping mechanism: Denial. He can't accept the fact that he's a fake invader, or that his Tallest weren't coming to Earth, because it would genuinely destroy him. And why wouldn't it? Pleasing his superiors and contributing to the hive-collective is encoded in him. It's all he's ever known. I specifically chose the given lines "(It's just that) I fell in love with a war and nobody told me it ended-" because that's the back-bone of Zim's character. You can take it both literally and metaphorically if you'd like. He's invader Zim. He likes being an invader because it gives him a purpose. The Tallest give him a fake mission and play into his delusion of doing good and being someone important (of being loved, even) and never truly hammer in the fact that he's exiled--not counting the unaired episode or the bit of commentary mumbled under the Tallests breath-- because they find the situation funny to an extent. (also, what gets me just in general with it is that Zim thinks that people like him but he's actually just one big joke and ow goddamn it my feelings) Main lyric(s) out of the way there I similarly associate the song to Zim's uh 'character redemption' so to say. I think he'd struggle to become accustomed to Earth and the fact that he doesn't have to rely on commands to live his life. I relate the line(s): "You're getting tired of me (and all of the things I don't talk about) / You love me so hard and I still can't sleep / It's not that I don't want you / It's not that I don't want your touch / There's a hole that you fill" With his relationship with Dib-- platonic, romantic, whatever-- and the general give and take of it all. He'd like to assimilate and believe in the freedom given by living on Earth. He wants it and in a way Dib provides the stability he needs there and it would be so, so, easy to give in to it. But he can't because the Empire continues to loom over him and his day-to-day life. As it's been proven, without Dib there to provoke Zim, the little alien falls into a depression, not unlike the one he fell into in Enter The Florpus when he saw the truth in his mission. Dib is his substitute, essentially. (there's something to be said with that relationship and how I view it but this is already dragging on and this is only the first analysis, so maybe another time.) And lastly, I'd like to think that the Pearl the song is eluding to can be compared to Zim's PAK. The whole 'Pearls are parasites that live inside of mollusks' bit can relate to the PAK and it's purpose. But I see it more in the sense that the PAK is the second brain, a computer memory drive that grants Zim access to the memories he can't bring himself to forget or delete. I.e., "And it left a pearl in my hand / And i roll it around every night just to watch it glow /

Every night, baby, that's where I go" Every time he takes a step forward, he takes two back because he just can't let go of what he knows (the Empire).

--- As for Dib and I Bet On Losing Dogs, well, it's a little more complicated and I'm still not entirely sure of my break-down here because there's so many layers to apply. Originally when I started messing around with this idea, it was going to be centered on Membrane "My baby, you're my baby, say it to me" and him loving Dib despite his flaws. And I still think it could apply. While Dadbrane doesn't support Dib's paranormal bull-shit, and he shouldn't considering the lengths Dib goes through to prove it (bus hoping, obsessive behavior, the fucking trench-coat) he does support and love his son despite the absentness. Hence the "I bet on losing dogs" and you know, Dadbrane just being there to pick him up and have his back when he really needs to. But then we get to the last line of the first verse. "Tell your baby that I'm your baby" To which Dib, in all of his edgy glory, decided to stick his big-head in to my thought process. I saw it as Dib wishing that Membrane would pick him over Science. Kind of a plea for attention? Like: Put your work away, I know you love it but you need to love me more. Dib has got to have the biggest hero-complex out of everyone in the show. He also has an inferiority-complex that compels him to try and prove himself. Quite frankly, and pun fully intended, he is the underdog. The odds are always against him and he almost never comes out victorious in the end, in that way, I feel like Dib himself is the loosing dog. His belief in the supernatural is the loosing dog. No one will ever believe him, "I bet on losing dogs / I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place" but he's too stubborn to give up. Even if he's mocked and ridiculed he would never stop trying to prove himself correct and would continue to stick to his guns. "I'll be there on their side / I'm losing by their side" He ostracizes himself from his peers by not letting belief go. He is purposely sabotaging his chance of being seen as someone other than the crazy kid.

That being said, the next line is where his Hero-complex comes back into play. "Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down" in Enter the Florpus, his sworn enemy was in a funk that he knew all too well. Sure, in the end he wanted to use Zim for his own gain, but before that he sympathized with him. And in a way, he possibly wouldn't know how to act if he ever did actually succeed? I couldn't help but think that Dib, who has always lost wouldn't feel like exposing Zim would be a win? He'd miss the fight. Dib would miss the struggle of being beaten down only to rise up when he finally gets some sort of substantial evidence: "I wanna feel it / I bet on losing dogs" he hopes that Zim will come up with something big and bad not because he wants him to win either, but because then Dib has something to fight against. Along with that, the one time Dib actually broke away from paranormal to go along with his father's wishes he was absolutely miserable. He was successful. He made his father happy, he could have made something out of his life but he couldn't; the appeal of Zim and their on-going stalemate was too much to resist-- "I always want you when I'm finally fine / Someone to watch me die" -- Dib is ruining himself by obsessing over the truth and Zim would be going down, right there with him. ahaha, that was a lot wasn't it? It probably didn't make sense either as it's just my personal rambling here, but I'd be interested to hear your thoughts and opinions on it all.

[ridasverkisto]

So something I’ve been feeling more and more recently is the fact that I interact with certain parts of fandom culture differently from allo folks.

Like—shipping. Aside from some few squicks (incest, adult/minor ships, that sort of thing) I’m not usually bothered by whether or not a relationship is platonic or romantic. And something that got slapped in my face recently is that people tend to envision romantic ships as somehow “deeper” or more meaningful than platonic ships, which I sort of knew before, but not to this extent?

Like, I literally had to have a discussion with a friend over how I see certain ships in one of our shared fandoms, and he and another friend started talking about—“well they’re so close—“ “I see them as brothers, y’know?”

And I’m over here going “uh. Guys. I never said familial platonic. I just don’t see them as romantic, even if they do have a brother vibe sometimes.”

Or the times I’ve had to explain that “&” as a relationship tag is so very....inadequate. I mean, yeah, we have a platonic tag!! But also, compare it to “/“. You see “/“ and you immediately know it’s romantic and/or sexual; but you see “&”, and the author has to clarify what kind of platonic relationship it is. Is it familial? Close friends? Qpr? Mentor-student? It just...feels inadequate to me, but I’m the only one that feels that way it seems like.

Or—simping. Finding characters hot. Like—I genuinely cannot understand people who look at characters and go “ah yes, if they were real I’d absolutely tap that.” Like???? I know they can feel complex and real and grow and it’s amazing—I love character growth and dynamics, but so many people seem to find their favorite characters based off of how sexy they find them, or how bad of a crush they have on them! And I just don’t get it!!! Fictional crushes?? How do allos even function??

It’s even worse when I’m like, reading a fic that’s got really good dynamics and writing (rich characters, lovely prose, the works), and then they drop a sex scene in as a “treat” or some sort of weird “gift,” and people go nuts in the comments for it. Sex scenes are almost always superfluous, because you can write them out so damn easily.

And don’t get me started on the weird rules people impose on themselves regarding shipping being only A/B or something. Why does a ship have to be only two people so often? Why does a romantic relationship (in fiction or IRL, but ppl project so much) have to be the most important part of a characters life? The most important relationship they have????

And why does every character have to be shipped with someone? People are allowed to be single!! Not even just characters headcanoned as ace or aro (which is a whole other discussion, bc why does everyone assume an ace and/or aro character will be forever alone???), but anyone can just be single and happy that way!!!

Idk, maybe it’s just me being the outsider here, surrounded by a culture I only understand from the other side of a glass wall. Sometimes all of this stuff just makes me feel like I’m stuck on the other side of an invisible wall, or some kind of cuckoo alien imposter of a human being.

I’ve kind of lost the point here, but I guess it’s just a sort of screaming into the void about how isolating a lot of this feels, because so few people actually really get it without me having to explain my perspective on any of it. I appreciate my friends, and they try, but like—it’s still isolating when you’re constantly surrounded by a world that looks at your relationships and how you interact with the world and deems it somehow lesser or wanting.

And try though some might, that shows in fandom too. It shows in people using platonic tags for romantic relationships, or how there are so strikingly few fics that feature explicitly queer-platonic relationships in any way compared to the vast library of romantic ship fics.

I’m a rickety lifeboat, constantly surrounded by cruise ships on an ocean with no land in sight. Alone in the crowd, tiny against the vast shapes and so, so easily ignored. Trapped behind an invisible wall, tapping on the glass to be heard.

Most of the time, I can ignore it. Sometimes—all I can feel is hopelessly alone and out of place, never really able to understand or relate to what everyone else says is “normal.”

Is it so wrong that I wish I knew people—close friends, people I could talk to IRL, laugh with, form a rapport with—that actually understand how I feel, rather than try to meet me halfway over the gulf of mutual incomprehension?

I don’t think so, but maybe I’m wrong.

[eyeslikefoxglove]

Episode 21 - The PTSD is strong with this one & we need more braincells

Hello hello! Welcome to the commentary. How’s everyone? I’m frozen solid because it’s mid-June in Spain and yet we had 11°C yesterday. Fucking awesome!

I AM NOT WEARING MASCARA SO I CAN CRY ALL I WANT. I DONT KNOW IF THATS GOOD OR BAD THO.

Can I just take a second to appreciate how much this big strong powerful men emote? I mean, I know this isn’t western media where the tough guy can’t show emotions, and I don’t know that eastern media has the same hangups about men emoting but just... it’s so refreshing.

Huaisang bb you’re so sweet.

Oh, oh the PTSD is strong with this one.

Also, bless both JC and NHS, they absolutely noticed WWX flinch and, in their own ways, went and steamrolled over it so WWX wouldn’t feel scrutinised.

WE INTERRUPT THIS BROADCAST TO INFORM YALL THAT I GOT A KITTEN ON MY LAP. (She’s kneading my boob, which, ow, but...)

*BICHEN GRIIIIIIIP*

How do y’all think the guards go deliver bad news to WRH? Like do they paper-rock-scissor it? Draw straws?

NMJ did you have to?

And once again I wonder what would’ve happened if JFM had let sect leader Yao kick it.

Ughvhfnevus it’s this clown. Same as with Su She, if you see a bunch of screaming it’s just me not wanting to listen to Jin ZiXun.

The Nies: let’s throw a banquet to honour WWX’s return

Every asshole there: *gossips about WWX while in the room with him*

Once again I wish I could transmigrate (and speak mandarin lol) and just start delivering tongue lashings.

Listen, I have no idea how to play Guqin, but I did play the guitar for years and even from here I can see how much YiBo’s hands don’t match the melody. Nothing against him but why does this always happen? I know they got classes, so was the music not written by that time or something? Because one thing is not hitting the correct notes, another is plucking slow notes when the tempo is much faster.

JC: Since yours and LWJ’s unhappy separation...

My dumbass: do you mean breakup? *eyebrow waggle*

You will pry my “JC knows his brother is pinning after LWJ, he probably doesn’t want to know anything else” hc out of my cold dead hands thankyouverymuch.

WWX: *spouts a bunch of misdirection to avoid giving JC a straight answer*

JC: Bull-fucking-shit.

Should I count how many times WWX PTSDs all over the place or would you like me to leave your hearts intact? That’s two so far.

Ok ok, I feel that, if someone with a bit less trauma and a bit of insight (NHS maybe?) had seen the bit where ChenQing fucking hurts Shijie thing would’ve gone differently. I mean, yes, LWJ keeps warning WWX that this shit is gonna fuck him up, but as I said in my previous commentary LWJ also has the communication skills of a hermit crab so that wouldn’t work, and JC would be too wound up and WWX too busy trying to conceal his lack of golden core for that conversation to go anywhere. But if someone who WWX knows is a good egg (I’m not gonna say trusts bc paranoia) had sat him down and told him “your new instrument that you use for your new form of cultivation just hurt the person you love most please be careful when you use it.” I think it would’ve worked wonders towards his health overall.

I know Shijie says it’s like Zidian, but she’s not working with the fact that this thing is made for and by the Dark Side of the Force and I’m sorry but I can’t help but see ChenQing as a bit of a horrocrux almost. Or like, if you like me think the Burial Mounds is an Entity, something that’s a bit more sentient that it lets on.

Speaking of reputations and NHS being a good egg, I have oh-so-many ideas (I won’t say plot bunnies because I can’t write for shit) in which NHS for Reasons (time-travel? Letter from the future? His massive brain?) realises just how much damage WWX is doing to his public image. And he might be a sheltered dandy, but he saw what being the son of a sex worker did to Meng Yao despite how hard he worked (I’m assuming he doesn’t know about the whole betrayal business). This is way fucking worse, like hell is he going to let one of his best friends paint a target on his back. So he pulls back his sleeves, engages his slytherin brain and proceeds to lay down a plan to throughly destroy WWX’s reputation as a powerful genius.

I’m guessing LWJ and JC protest, and maybe WWX, and NHS just hits them with “do you want him respected or alive?” And they shut tf up. He glues himself to WWX, and brings up as many instances in which their behaviour can be compared as he can (we got drunk and punished at cloud recesses, we slept in class, we skipped to go fishing, I don’t carry my sword either). And, because assholes be assholes, people like Sect Leader Yao or Clown Cousin are quick to start spouting their own derogatory bullshit and thus WWX the untamed powerful prodigy dies a fiery death. Now he’s just a mouthy kid with a quick mind that “does tricks instead of battle” (I’ll never get bored of using that Thor quote). I also like to think that people who personally know WWX and are not pieces of shit go give NHS a tongue lashing for messing with what they thought was his friend, NHS takes that as a test of good eggness and bring them into the plan. Soon the whole Cloud Recesses class is swearing up, down, left, right and centre that all the shit WWX has ever successfully pulled is just an insane amount of luck and quick thinking.

I don’t know how would they work him into the battlefield (disguise? Mask?) to unleash his demonic cultivation but that’s Plot and I don’t do that.

Also, because I’m a terrible human being I want to say that people assume LWJ is on “pretty but useless” WWX like white on rice because *insert derogatory comment about being good in bed and sexual favours*. Because y’all know the assholes here are Like That. And WWX is horrified because holy fucking shit he’s gonna drag LWJ’s reputation down, he can’t have people thinking HGJ is ok with having him as a concubine pretty much. But before he can act LWJ politely all but confirms that yeah, he’s tapping that, y’all wish you were but he doesn’t share and none of y’all are good enough for his Wei Ying anyway. CUE FAKE/PRETEND RELATIONSHIP BECAUSE I AM INDEED TRASH FOR THAT TROPE.

Muahahahaha y’all thought I was gonna devolve into my personal hcs and not include my fave trope? Shouldn’t y’all know me better by now?

(Btw I like this bit ^ so I might polish it a little and post it separately as well, just a warning if you find yourself reading an eerily similar post by me)

WuJi is playing and LWJ is pining so much. Also, if LWJ did not just realise that, just like Yu the Great, WWX had no other option but tame resentful energy I’ll eat my blanket.

I refuse to believe Jiang Yanli didn’t become the unofficial war camp therapist/sounding board/only sane person/everyone’s mum/I just need a hug and a corner to cry in peace. There are not enough fics about Shijie being her gentle BAMF self while in the camp and it’s a pity. My crops are dying y’all!

Also, I will fight anyone who scoffs at Shijie being the epitome of the “gentle woman who cooks and waits for the men to come back from war”. Look at her mum, do you think it is easy for a kid (she was a kid in the flashback when WWX ran away) to see that day in and day out, to have that as a “role model” and decide that she was not going to be like her mum? That she didn’t like what she saw in her so she was going to be kind and gentle? And do you think it is easy for a person barely in their twenties to deal with years of verbal and psychological abuse for again, being gentle and kind, and not grow a hard shell of bitterness to protect themselves? And to keep being gentle and kind while at war, with your parents dead and your siblings unraveling before your very eyes? Shijie is so fucking strong and I love her.

Hey look, the White Walkers!

“Resentful energy is just energy” ok, valid. But my dude, you’ve got black ghost smoke coming out of you and can hear people screaming in your head. I’m not saying it is evil, like someone’s uptight set in his ways arrogant uncle; but it sure as shit ain’t healthy.

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH (that’s a Clown Cousin scream btw)

Ok ok, just one little thing: IF SOMEONE ELSE CALLS WWX WEI YING AS A SHOW OF DISRESPECT IMMA SCALP THEM.

...are those crows eating that man alive? Yikes on bikes.

(Assume my comment about YiBo’s Guqin playing also goes for Xiao Zhan and his flute. I can’t play the flute but the tempo doesn’t match his fingers)

I’m just gonna say it, I think 3zun (well, 2zun as of now) suspect shit went down badly for WWX, that’s two questions by both of them in a very soft conciliatory tone. They are genuinely interested/worried about the topic, and don’t seem to come off as chiding or judgemental. I mean WWX is a weirdo irreverent kid and they’re sect leaders, they outrank him so much it’s ridiculous. I’m also counting the fact that both their baby brothers like him towards them being so kind. But I also think WWX just triggers all their big brother instincts the second he walks in.

Oh there’s a thought, Shijie, Wen Qing, NMJ and LXC take a look at everyone’s shitty parents and just decide to adopt everyone.

What happened at Yiling was a traumatised teenager (is WWX even 20?) PTSDing all over the place with the Dark Side of the Force whispering in his ear and an all powerful trinket at his disposal. Not saying I approve of all the torture and murder but he clearly isn’t revelling in them.

That is some outstanding bit of big-brothering on LXC’s side and I love it. Also, my dumbass just realised LWJ probably wasn’t quoting WWX when he was being punished (what is white what is black?) I think he was quoting his big brother. Which is magnitudes deep too, but in a different direction and I might love that scene even more.

Ok fuck it, I’m gonna tangent. So I had a terrible boyfriend when I was 15-18. He alienated me from my friends, sunk my self-esteem to the molten core of the earth, tried to convince me my parents were abusive and encouraged (aka threatened manipulated and cajoled) the slow tanking of my high school marks. I have A Problem when I see media where someone latches onto their significant other and everything they are shifts towards that person. Now, love, true genuine love, is powerful, and I believe it can be the catalyst for shifting your world-view for the better. I don’t have a problem with that. I don’t have a problem with people sticking with their romantic partner if it is clear their previous “family” is so much shit. I don’t have a problem with LWJ coming out of his shell and defying corrupt precepts because his love for WWX made them see they were wrong, or getting sassy and unrepentant during his punishment (I have a problem with the punishment bc that’s abuse but...). But I do side-eye WangXian being the only thing in their orbit. People need people, and WangXian have other good people around them. So I kind of love that yes, WWX showed him the system was corrupt, but it is the words of his brother he is sticking by to the defy said system.

Let’s go back to our scheduled slew of held pinning glances shall we?

LXC after That awkward run-in: WangJi I wasn’t gone that long, what the fuck did you two oblivious pining idiots do?

(LXC has “bitching” tea sessions with Shijie and you can’t convince me otherwise)

LWJ: *is being dramatic and not knocking on WWX’s door*

Me: oh my god you fucking idiot

Shijie: *walks in*

Me: oh thank god someone with a braincell.

Ah yes, there we go triggering WWX’s paranoia again. Why would he get a break.

OH MY GOD YOU PAIR OF FUCKING IDIOTS. THATS IT, FUCK THIS SHIT IM OUT.

@ LWJ: bitch wtf was that? I know you’re shit at talking but have you thought about writing it down? Letters anyone? It worked for mr. Darcy.

(Yes LWJ is mr darcy and now I want an au where LWJ writes WWX letters and just pours everything in them, WWX finds them, any everything is sunshine and rainbows)

While this bullshit fight/misunderstanding is all on LWJ’s shoulders, I’m also going to scream at WWX. Because yes, he is in PTSD hell, but he trusted LWJ before, and yet he can’t get past his perceived notion of LWJ’s character (and his own inadequacies) to trust him again and ask for help. Plus, you know, he thinks he doesn’t deserve he’ll bc *waves hand at WWX’s trauma conga line*

These episodes can’t be good for my BP.

Thanks for reading!

[house-of-tykayl]

cystar tho (headcanons)

imagine

cyborg and starfire are the cuddliest couple ever. the PDA is incredible. star will perch on his shoulders like he’s a climbing post/bird perch and generally just drape herself all over him bc he’s got a lot of surface area and she wants comfy. and cy will just grab her out of midair for huggles before letting her float away again like a balloon headed straight for the atmosphere. star will float higher when she wants to look over his shoulder at something (bc hes the only titan taller than her) and sometimes cy will just reach up and touch her waist and lead her around in the air like that while they chat

the other titans support them, but are simultaneously disgusted by the excessive amount of PDA. cy sometimes milks star’s affection to troll everyone, especially at the breakfast table. “hey star i havent had my morning kiss today” “oh apologies” “do that long tongue thingy again babe” “if you two dont let me eat my waffles in peace for just ONE morning i will open a portal to the seventh circle of hell and chuck the both of you inside”

star is living for the unabashed affection bc cyborg has no qualms about being proud boyfriend in public. like he’ll wrap an arm around her and go “hey star’s my girlfriend :)” and the grocery store clerk’s like “we know, that’ll be $15.99″ and star’s just beaming, holding the plastic bags full of snacks and unorthodox food combinations

if cy’s generous with the lovin wait till you see star lmao. “you are looking most beautiful today!” she keeps saying shit literally no one else will say, either (possibly) coz of the robot thing or just coz starfire’s being starfire, and cyborg’s just like *clutches_chest.jpeg* because she a lil weirdo but she makes him feel normal and appreciated and that he’s great the way he is, that he’s desired even if a lot of him isn’t organic anymore. like yes!! my boyfriend is comprised of 80% robotic parts!! he is extremely strong and the “cool”!!! is he not absolutely wonderful???

ok but starfire can almost never get enough touching, and cyborg’s just like aight *picks her up and carries her around on his arm for an hour* and she’ll just be giddy the entire time

more under the cut

star doesnt have a lot of preconceived notions of what a normal human relationship is, outside of things she sees on TV and robin’s incomprehensible push-pulling over the years. so she doesn’t care one bit about the fact that she’s cuddling a robot. she’d figured starting a relationship with anyone on earth would be something different for her regardless– so a lot of the things cyborg used to think a partner would find problems with, end up not happening because man, this alien chick. “may i lay together with you in your bed?” “girl are you saying you wanna sleep while standing up?? on my charging port???? surrounded by 3478012 cables and wires?????” “is there no room? then may i sleep on the floor?” she just wants to be with him

heck more bed shenanigans would involve like, cyborg awkwardly trying to lie down on star’s bed, and it feels weird coz he hasn’t slept in a real bed for years and while it feels nice he’s kinda sinking into the mattress and he’s self-conscious about leaving a dent in the frame?? or like rolling over at night and squashing star which would be awkward coz he’s more than a little heavy?? then star hops in and cuddles close and is all like shhhhhhhhh slep time

silkie is usually very happy about cyborg’s presence in star’s room, if only because he can gnaw on cy’s legs while they sleep. cy begins to think it’s also revenge since there’s a lot less space on the bed with himself in it, and silkie struggles to find room near starfire to sleep at night. they eventually just get a bigger bed. silkie is a lot less stressed– but cyborg still wakes up with chew marks in his legs

if either of them are too tired from a battle that day, the other will carry them to bed. BB laughed his ass off the first time he saw starfire princess carrying cy to his room (star’s perfectly capable of carrying his weight but her arms aren’t necessarily long enough to hold onto him properly, making it a little cumbersome and awkward), but cy just tiredly gives B the finger

cy will talk to star in awkward broken tamaranian and she’ll get all giggly. everyone else assumes it’s cute flirting, but he’s actually whispering dirty, raunchy shit. that she taught him. and she continues to teach him tamaranian, occasionally dropping new words while otherwise speaking english, and waiting for him to ask about what they mean.

cy will sometimes smack star’s ass and then run for his life before she can return the favor, because he always ends up with an overly-enthusiastic handprint-shaped dent in his ass. it’s a terrifying game of tag. BB will chase them chasing each other with a camera to add to his album of “cyborg’s dented ass” photos that he shares with the whole titans network

cy teaches star about the niches in earth/american culture, the kinds of things that are a little harder to learn about on your own, or things she otherwise wouldn’t have had a reason to learn. he tells her about old american tv shows and explains obscure slang words and how to make telemarketers hang up first and what the contra code is and why he mashes it in every time he boots up a new video game. it’s a crash course mix of useless trivia and miscellaneous culture that makes star’s head spin– but she’s excited about learning all the same, the power of just knowing more makes her feel more comfortable on a planet where she is always a foreigner

it’s kinda why star adores all the different nicknames cy has for her like “fly girl” “baby doll” etc because it makes her feel “in” coz she gets all these cool nicks of names like other earth people!! she fits in!!!! and he’ll say it so fondly it makes her blush half the time. cy definitely notices and thinks its super cute at how excited she gets over pet names. she tries to nickname him back at one point but it felt awkward and she struggled to come up with them, and cy reassured her that he liked her saying out his name anyway, its cool. just be yourself babey

cy loves teaching star things in general, he’s patient and she’s always an eager student. he once took a few hours showing her how to play video games and while she didn’t really take to it, she did learn how to not break the controller whenever her virtual car’s about to crash into the divider (she still shrieks when it happens though)

initially, star is a bit nervous about touching some of cyborg’s robot parts like the implants and consoles coz she’s not sure how to deal with them? alien tech is one thing and earth tech is another, and then there’s the advanced shit that made up cyborg’s body and literally keeps him alive. she’s petrified at the thought of accidentally breaking something like what if she presses the button that turns off his lungs???????? and cy is like why the fuck would i have a button to turn off my lungs?? so one day cy just sits her down so she’s leaning back against his chest, and he looks over her shoulder as he shows her how to navigate his arm console. press this button and choose this option, no the screen wont break even if you press hard, dont use the browser to download malware on my arm like BB did, etc. the ui’s pretty intuitive and star gets it pretty quickly, then she gets all excited. cy teaches her about all the maintenance he does on his body and how his charger works and all that shit and she like oooooo

“if the t-car is your baby, does this mean i am its mother? cyborg does she like me enough? should i assist in changing her oil? *panicking* WILL SHE ACCEPT ME AS HER ADOPTED K’NORFKA?!”

(the t-car is a sassy one, easily jealous and protective– but ultimately, she does approve of starfire, if only just barely)

they spend a lot of time in the garage together. whether cy’s fussing with the t-car or putting together a new gadget, star’s a helpful assistant when it comes to welding or heavy lifting. and while she doesn’t necessarily get programming, she still helps cy with all the calculations and math involved in it; the concept of physics as she has encountered on earth is primitive compared to tamaran, and cy will often challenge her to crack a tough equation before his computer can. while the computer usually gets a result first, star will just explain that its answer was wrong in the large scheme of things, before she starts going in depth into that nerdy science shit to find a more effective way to wire whatever project they’re working on and cy’s just like  ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ heart eyes ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ at how smart she is

they fucking love food. while all the titans are hanging out in the common room, star and cy spend an inordinate amount of time in the kitchen. star will literally eat anything, at any time, and cy would go like “yo star want a sub??” and shes like “YES I WOULD LOVE THE EDIBLE SUBMARINES” and they go make the tallest sub ever and then Eat it

they just cook together a lot, one of them being head chef for the hour and the other being the kitchen assistant. cy’s usually in the lead when they’re making food for the other titans (to prevent food poisoning), and star is happy to learn new recipes that aren’t lethal to her friends– that, and licking all the mixing bowls clean. cy purposely gets sauce etc on his face so that star will see and lick it off too. then star will very unsubtly smear food on her face so that cy will wipe it off with his finger and then things get handsy. (they’re both aware it’s a game, but they pretend like they don’t.)

cy gets them matching aprons and a tiny chef hat for star. she asks him why it’s so tiny or even necessary but he just thinks its cute af on her lol

it helps cy’s ego when star will also eat literally anything he puts in front of her while enjoying it unironically. of course, cy quickly learns that starfire’s favorite “earth” foods are things that most people wouldn’t consider food at all, so while he’ll prepare Real Food for himself, he had to start a new custom cookbook for the random combinations of ingredients that starfire likes to ingest. he’s torn between feeling like his chef skills go to waste on her, or being proud at how good he’s become at figuring out the kinds of food combos she likes based on the flavors and consistencies she’s inclined to. but ultimately she’s just so cute and happy when she smiles at the taste of m&ms on raw steak that cyborg’s just like ahh. fine.

cyborg: *sighs while writing* “edamame in a cherry-chocolate reduction: get a handful of fresh edamame, washing is optional, pour hershey’s chocolate sauce all over it, add cherries but don’t remove the pits or the stems, sprinkle in some drops of 7up, then cover that shit in mustard. stick it all in the microwave for 1 minute, doesn’t really matter what temperature? prep time: 3 and a half minutes. the fuck did i just write”

star: *wolfs down that edamame shit like its the best goddamn thing ever*

raven:

meanwhile, while cy can’t stomach star’s tamaranean food, he does go out of his way to learn how to prepare the stuff himself, for whenever star’s sick or feeling down. the nostalgic taste of home tends to help her feel better. the bowls of wustlepus might keep trying to strangle him, but hey, cy can handle it

cy used to think we was master of stuffing his face, but he quickly found out that you do not challenge an alien with 9 stomachs to an eating competition and expect to win. it’s still fun, of course, to pick a restaurant and watch her slowly but surely put away food with a grace that cy doesn’t (care to) have. robin and BB cheer will them on, raven is disgusted but plays referee anyway (even though it’s not like the result ever changes)

“are the table manners required for today’s duel of excessive food consumption?” star will ask cy innocently, but she’d be smiling a lil smugly because she knows she’s gonna win like always

(at some point, the restaurant manager will start eyeing them nervously from the doorway of the staff room, unsure about whether to ask the titans to leave before they run the kitchen dry, or to take advantage of the publicity.)

cy and star are a couple that isn’t inclined to subtle about anything. that means smooching all the time. mwah noises. flirting. glomps. yelling at shit together for fun– cy just expresses himself loudly, while shouting at each other is a form of affection on tamaran. they’ll sometimes wrestle, sometimes arm wrestling and sometimes all out full-body on the floor (actual wrestling tho, not a innuendo; star usually wins). they keep denting walls and furniture with their messing around and the other titans are like /(e_e)\ *passing out earplugs* and at some point robin is like guys… just… keep it in your rooms please

but being loud isn’t exclusive to daytime. nobody fucking knows how the hell an alien and a robot get it on, but based on all the god damn noise at night, they’ve apparently figured something out. maybe more than one something. it is a mystery

“hey, star… ever heard of a vibrator?”

most of their making out happens in the gym tho, let’s be real. they’ve been checking each other out for years in there. now they just get frisky after (or during, or before) a workout, culminating in yet another “workout”. they never lock the door, and after enough incidents the other titans just end up boycotting the gym entirely in lieu of the other training room

with the added privacy, star opts to work out in the gym without a top on. or a bra. then she heads for the treadmill

“you never wear clothing, cyborg, so why should i?”

cyborg keeps dropping his weights on himself and just ends up covered in dents, two mangled prosthetic legs, and having done no training at all

they’re such a peppy excited pair that sometimes things can get a bit too wild. there’s a pile in the back of cy’s room made up solely of dented/crushed/melted/ripped arm and leg prosthetics, all damaged because cy was busy pampering his superpowered alien gf a lil too much. starfire feels super bad but cy is like, he has to fix his limbs after a lot of battles anyway, it’s no big deal. he also hasn’t bothered to suggest a workaround yet because watching her lose control is hot (and maybe getting his hand melted is kinda kinky)

they sometimes troll the other titans– usually robin– by whispering in tamaranian behind them and snickering, pretending like they’re talking about them. robin used to be extra miffed by this, but after learning that cy’s tamaranian is actually still shit enough that he has yet to learn to string together a proper sentence longer than 3 words, robin knows they’re just fucking around with him. at one point robin turns around on the couch and throws some tamaranian right back at them and cyborg’s like :O what the fuck? what the fuck?? and star’s like yeah actually robin asked me to teach him tamaranian too. and robin’s like :) and cy is grumpy he can’t antagonize him with it anymore (and that it’s not exclusively his and star’s code language anymore, but really, you can’t own a language like that)

star likes to cart cy around while flying, but he’s just so bulky that he doesnt look all graceful and shit like robin; he just looks kinda goofy dangling in the air with her holding him under the arms. but even if he felt a little self-conscious, he forgets it quickly when she lets him skim the ocean with his feet or take him up over the clouds– he’d thought he lost everything with the accident that left him a robot, but getting to fly like this is something he never could’ve even dreamed of even when he was all human. like. this must be what it actually means to be living. everything happens for a reason

cy gets a UV lamp installed in his body just in case they get stuck somewhere and there’s no sunlight for star, he can’t replace the sun but it might help

he also turns his heaters up a bit when they’re cuddling coz he knows she likes warmth, as long as he’s not running the risk of overheating his system, but his metal parts can be cold to the touch and while she doesnt mind it at all he just wants her to be cozy….

cy’s like the only titan taller than star, so she usually floats to be eye level with him. he big and bulky and strong and he reminds her of galfore, and that’s part of why she always felt protected and safe around him. not to mention star’s been getting taller than most earth people her age; she sometimes feels like a tall poppy, sticking out of the crowd too much. so she lowkey enjoys being smol for once compared to cyborg, especially if she ever feels like hiding behind him, or being carried by him, the comfort of a sort of bodyguard that she doesn’t necessarily need but is there if she wants

i keep bringing this up but star sitting on cyborg’s shoulders/arms like. the result is this tall stack of a couple that towers over all the other titans– then like everyone will be chilling on the couch when they hear making out noises from above and they look up and its just star floating around cyborg’s head as they smooch and everyone’s like -_-

all the meme fun aside, they’re always able to confide in each other whenever they’re upset. they’ll sit together in silence and just lean on each other or hug and wait for someone to spill. if (when) it comes down to “will i ever fit in?”, because that kinda worry never completely goes away, they’ll be reassured that they know the few places they’ll always be accepted– and that’s in the titans, or in the unconventional relationship between a half robot and an alien nuclear bomb

star likes being around cy coz he’s so sturdy, in more ways than one– he’s strong enough to tank stuff so it’s safer to roughhouse with him. she loves being able to give the biggest of hugs without worrying too much about crushing a ribcage (earthlings and their Fragile Little Bones!)

cy loves how small star is compared to him bc shes fun to pick up or pluck from the air and cuddle ♥ and she’s so warm, just radiating heat both literally and metaphorically and she’s so full of life and heart, and cy’s once again reminded of what it really means to be human– by a goddamn alien, no less

they like to touch each other’s faces, just caressing n stuff like they do in “how long is forever” and the teen titans go comic #24, staring into each others eyes and shit and going all (uwu) they just love to touch each other okay even back when they were just friends!!!!!!!

HAVE I MENTIONED THE SMOOCHES. star will just kiss cy all over his face because its fun and she knows he likes it. then cy returns the favor, except with increasingly exaggerated kissing and nomming noises because it makes star laugh and blush like crazy. it’s horribly embarrassing for anyone else watching. star & cy are usually standing in the middle of the corridor by this point, and then robin was gonna head to his office, but once he sees the path is blocked– by this no less– just returns the way he came without a word

if anyone tries to make star feel uncomfortable for being alien or misunderstanding something, which does still happen sometimes, they’ll quickly find out they’ve got the goddamn terminator comin for their ass. or they’ll turn around and see 6 foot tall robot man with arms crossed and red eye glowing and he’ll be like (: hey there (:

star keeps leaving the garage with motor oil all over her face. none of the other titans knows how to address it, or if they even should, so they don’t

anyway theyre in love

[shanascarlett]

Thoughts on Hasbro Universe after Revolution

Im big fan of G.I. Joe/Transformers. But when I heard that there are more than 2 franhises in one universe, it blew my mind. So I decided to check out them. One of them I heard when I was kid.

Revolution was big. For some it was epic, other think it was mess. I understand why ppl love and hate it. Personally I love it. There’s conflict and how heroes unite against evil. It was the beggining of massive universe. So, how it turned out?

To be fair.... not so good.

Its my own opinion. You can disagree with me. If you love aftermath of Revolution, thats fine. I just want to tell about the conclusion of Hasbro Comic Book Universe.

Optimus Prime.

I think the writer put a lot of his view on life: disappointment on every religion. I really didnt like how he made that Optimus Prime is always wrong. Even when he listens and he does what he was asked to do, ppl still angry at him. “You should listened to me!” and “You shouldn’t listen to me!”. I love that they put Joes, but here’s the big issue: OOC of Mainframe and Flint with his daughter look similar the same age.

Remember when Trasnformers had the mystery of their religion and mythology? Mix of Sci-Fi and Cosmic Fantasy. Yeah, forget about that. It was all Shockwave’s evil plan. Another big disappointment for me.

I like how they described the ghost of Bumblebee, but Shockwave being one of 13 Primes looks very... confusion to me. 

Lost Light

Lost Light deserves to be called a weak sequel. Remember when in MTMTE was magic mystery, adventure, gore and development of characters and relationships? Here I found nothing. New characters for me are not interesting. And yes about them being “trans”. Im not transphobic and sorry if my opion might hurt you or offend. I just dont see transgenders in Transformers.  I dont see transformers suffering of gender dysphoria. Hell, I doubt they suffer of homophobia, bc they are totally fine with mlm and wlw. If you dont know, hetero relationships are for the population of Earth. And Transformers managed told that they can love each other, but their love is not like Earth’s bc they dont have to have sex to create life. They have strong emotion connection to each other.

Speaking about love. I love Chromedome/Rewind love story bc it was developed. We saw the birth of connection, loss, pain, reunion, fear and happiness. Same with Cyclonus and Tailgate. To be fair I dont ship the last two as romantic couple, but as platonic couple. For me they dont have that emotional connection like Chrome/Rewind but they care each other. In Lost Light nothing. You just accept that a lot characters are couple to each other. Why and how? Just accept it. This is why I dont feel emotional connection to Lug and Anode. To be fair I thought they are friend and Lug looks a lot like a boy. If they’d develop her more better, I think I’d like her. The whole Lost Light is just comics of couples. I was thinking when they’re gonna do the Orgy like in Ancient Rome.

Also here’s another disappointment in religion. Everything was lie. As I told earlier - I didnt like it. I’d rather to rewatch TFP, Bayverse or G1. BC I felt emptiness. MTMTE is masterpiece.

G.I. Joe

Where do I begin? Was written by socialist who doesnt know anything about military, ruined Quick Kick who was nice and gentle, made Scarlett an idiot, turned charasmatic Shipwreck into fat vegan, new characters have no backstory or reasons why they joined to Joes. Also: huge hypocricy. Scarlett says that G.I. Joe is now international team, but they refuse to work with USA. I get it they tried to turn G.I. Joe into Overwatch, but OW was working with every country. Including USA, where they had one of their headquarters. American G.I. Joe was more progressive bc they were helping every country who had deal with Cobra or any threat. They even teamed up with Russian soldiers.

The huge disappointment was no explanation about Snake Eyes rebirth (and no love story of Snake/Scarlett) and Quick Kick being an ass. Just check G.I. Joe ARAH show. There Quick Kick was nice. I miss that one....

The only good stuff was about Rock n’ Roll nightmares and guilt for shooting Grand Slam, grumpy Grand Slam and Doc being half-alien. Thats alll.

Revolutionaries

It was a bit better bc its literally crossover with conflict and backstories. Here they at least tried to make story interesting. And brought a lot interesting references. Especially to 90s: KLAW, Slaugther and even to original Action Force.

M.A.S.K.: Mobile Armored Strike Kommand

At 1st they tried but then it all felt down. I wouldnt call it horrible. You can check out 1st issues. I can say that only villains were interesting. While main heroes...  here’s the problem.

Original Matt Trekker was an engineer, millionaire, helped ppl and white. Why the last important? BC in reboot he became boring black guy who seeks vengeance for his father death and the main bad guy is white man. Im not racist bc I like how it was done in Spawn, but it wasnt so obvious who is the bad guy who just wants to take over the world. I get it you hate Trump. He is a clown.

Also original Trekker raises his son alone. So he is widowed. It could play in reboot: lost all, but tries to keep his son safe. So much potential for drama of lonely father. But we got what we got. I just go to rewatch Spawn animated series.

If they wanted “diverse” why they didnt put more poc characters from MASK? You know there are actual canon black man and indian man? Even native american man?

ROM

It was boring. 1st issues were interesting and brutal bc of alien invansion. You wouldnt know who is the enemy and who is the friend. But drama...

Whole Rom’s drama was about losing his humanity. At 1st we see him as cold-hearted alien. Then they all forget about it. Original Rom from Marvel was losing his humanity until he met brave girl Brandy who made him to remember his loss of homeplanet and love of his life. He was afraid to be alone and to be complete machine. And yes, in reboot his old girlfriend is alive. But I felt nothing with this. I prefer to read original comics bc I felt sorry for Rom.

Micronauts: Wrath of Karza

It was boring. The only thing I can remember is Larissa being Baron Karza’s daughter. I dont compare reboot with original series bc I havent read yet. I liked the new one bc of Baron Karza and his wife (and their fetish).

First Strike

Hoo- boy. It was bad. Preety bad. Not bc villains tried to destroy Cybertron. Not bc TF thought its gonna be war of humans and TF. No, it all was good. The main villain is Joe Colton who wants to destroy Cybertron to save Earth. And that he was bad from the beginning. His motivation sounds like Miles Mayhem from M.A.S.K.. That shock effect of surprise villain doesnt work here. It looks like disrespect to Joe fans. They managed to ruin Scarlett’s character who was turned into G.I. Joe not bc she was the best. She was in Joes bc she didnt do 50 push-ups. If you dont know, G.I. Joe is elite guard where they take the best men and women bc they do a lot dangerous work. So the whole story arc is full disrespect to Joe fan. I dont know about you, but I was offended by that.

Was there smth good? Team up of villains and the easter egg of Visionaries.

Rom vs. Transformers: Shining Armor

I almost forget about the plot bc it was boring. Rom was rude like every commander (yeah, for someone “losing humanity”). New character was boring. So everythng was boring. Even Autobots didint save the situation.

Rom & the Micronauts

Well, they at least tried with characters development. I really liked how characters interact with each other. But the whole story was “meh”

Scarlett's Strike Force

It was very short and cancelled. BC that writer Sitterson wrote offensive tweet about Nine Eleven. I get it what he was trying to do: to make comics based on cartoon G.I. Joe. This is why Quick Kick and Spirit fight against Storm Shadow. Personally I thought it was racist bc “only asian fight agains asian”. And Storm Shadow has the worst redesign I’ve ever seen. Theres nothing to talk about the comics bc its unfinished and cancelled. So theres nothing.

Transformers vs. Visionaries

This comic had potential. But the ending ruined it. The story is about colonization to save living race. But it will kill another nation. Its interesting theme. And how they managed? Nothing. For some reason everyone in peace and safe. The ending is just weird. I think writer didint know how to end that conflict so she wrote “everyone safe and in peace. Colonization is bad”. Not the ending is the problem. Main characters: Leoric and Virulina redesigned very strong. Leoric looks like total different character (why not to create new character? He looks good). And Virulina looks like student from art-school, not the villain. The redesigned I like are Cryotek and Arzon. And the art was very good.

The last 2 ones I havent finished yet. I can tell this: TAAO isnt look so bad, but I’m ready for disapointing ending, like TF Unicron.

In conclusion:

I dont tell that it was done horrible. Its just explains why IDW decided to reboot TF and G.I. Joe. Low sales. BC I’ve noticed a lot easter eggs in those comics for future story plots. I think they’d made it good if IDW would give them chance.

If you love them, thats fine. I’ll enjoy my own version of Hasbro Universe.

[homosociallyyours]

hello good evening

i have been watching the real housewives of beverly hills for the past few weeks and i’ve just gotten into season 6. i’ve been sending chats to @jlf23tumble most nights to spill my feels about it, but my feelings have officially become too large to be held in a single chat. and so here, behind a cut, is me talking about things. in particular, yolanda hadid, lyme disease, and other things unique to RHOBH

ok so i mentioned maybe yesterday in a brief text post that i was shocked to find myself loving yolanda hadid when i truly went in expecting to find her as awful as i find 90% of the housewives, maybe more so. IMAGINE MY SURPRISE when she turned out to be shockingly down-to-earth and chill. in her first season i could imagine her shopping at the store i work at, maybe coming in to buy a particular Dutch cheese that reminded her of home or talking about the newest vegan options we carry. 

then in her second season she started getting sick, and so much of what she was going through hit home for me: the brain fog, the fatigue, the hope of a good day where your energy has returned. she spent her third season getting her life back in order somewhat, still having rough days but pushing through and doing more. 

i’m in her fourth (and last) season, where the lyme has gotten really bad. i started sobbing while watching when she talked about not remembering what it’s like to be well. sometimes i think back on the things i used to love doing like they’re some kind of fading dream. did i really enjoy hiking in the hills or taking my dog to the beach? was it someone else who would sleep 3 hours, work 9 or 10, and then still manage to go out two-stepping? 

when she laid on her couch with tears welling up just saying that it’s a struggle to keep going and that she wants her body to work like it used to, i felt that sense of recognition and relief. it’s not that i have a lot of people telling me i’m faking. i’m really lucky to have a lot of folks who believe me. but there is a voice in my head saying i’ve made all this up and it’s not real and to stop being lazy, and when i heard her talking it helped stuff a fucking sock in the voice’s mouth for a minute. 

what’s wild is this woman started out on the show as a self-proclaimed “dutch martha stewart” who was running up and down the steps of her house with baskets of lemons, working out and dieting non-stop, throwing amazing parties that she organized every detail of and traveling around a bunch. watching the series in such massive gulps (it takes me 3-5 days to finish a season) means that her decline happened in a time lapse, almost. 

and i’m seeing the reactions of all the people who didn’t experience it like that and who have maybe never known a chronically ill person in their lives. when she shows up to a birthday party with no makeup on, everyone at the table questions it after she leaves abruptly. “why would any woman choose not to wear makeup?” “if she felt so bad, why did she bother coming?” “i know i said she looked good but she didn’t.” 

i can’t speak for her, but i’ve stopped wearing makeup because it takes thought and energy that i don’t have, especially if i’m going to leave the house. i also hate looking at myself now most of the time, because all i see is half a fucking person-- a shadow with no life and no energy. i sometimes force myself to go to things when i know they’ll wreck me because not leaving the house is depressing af. i want to be a person again, and goddamn it i will throw every spoon i have at 30 minutes of quality time feeling like myself, even if i know it means i’ll be lying in bed the whole next day. 

and i actually hate hearing that i look good or cute because it feels like such a lie, but i do accept those compliments at face value because i know at the very least that i’m a good actor? like i tricked you into thinking i was a human and not some sad fatigue lump who gets winded from washing my fucking dishes. 

AND THEN-- (yeah we’re back to the RHOBH talk) --we have a plot about everyone secretly doubting her illness. talking about what it could or couldn’t be. as if they’ve been in the fucking room and looked at every test result and laid in bed hoping the next appointment would bring relief. i have generally liked lisa rinna because she’s pretty camp, but she’s the one leading the charge and now i wanna throw a shoe (or a prosthetic leg) at her. 

throughout all of this, i’ve started to really love yolanda. she’s honest and vulnerable and so generous with and protective of her friends. and i know i could get blacklisted for this, but her kids are all better people than every child i’ve watched on a real housewives franchise put together. like. they’re weird and loving and kind and respectful and not spoiled, and i am pretty sure it comes down to having a parent who’s modeling that behavior. 

i was joking with bander earlier about making a reality franchise called “the real spoonies of _city_” where you just follow several chronically ill people through their daily lives. and she laughed bc it would look like completely separate individuals just texting each other and not going out. And It Would! but i think maybe i’d still want to watch it? i wouldn’t mind seeing how other people have figured out their lives (i’m terrible at it and feel a lot like my body is an alien i can’t communicate with) and i’d enjoy seeing people sorting their pills and cooking their quick meals and doing restorative yoga and shit like that. 

instead i watch the housewives because they’re silly and dramatic and they go to fancy lunches or dinners and they take nice trips and go shopping and it’s weird. who lives like that? they do, i guess! 

i don’t wanna only talk about being sick and yolanda, though, so if you’re still reading and care, here’s my hot takes so far:  -lisa v has an atypical relationship with sex which she covers with odd sex jokes. i kinda think she might be on the ace spectrum, maybe?  -kyle and kim break my heart BUT ALSO they had a fight that reminded me of the last time i went home and my sister fucking lost her mind at me for rolling my eyes when she tried to dis the ACA and socialized medicine.  -brandi has some deep psychological trauma and her bisexual ass should consider dating a woman. i think that plus therapy might be good?  -lisa r and eileen have houses that are massive but so full of things that they feel realllly un-fancy compared with every other house i’ve seen on rhony or rhobh! whenever there’s a scene in one of their houses i feel like moving things so i can see them better 

also i know bethenny is gonna make a tiny appearance on this season and i’m so juiced you don’t even understand. bethenny is my girl, ok? i love her. and it’s gonna be weird af seeing her with the beverly hills ppl because they’re SO DIFFERENT. 

one day i’ll do a study of all the RH franchises and separate them out by vibe. maybe make one of those posts that list the aesthetics? like--

rhony: martinis, black manolos, espresso in the afternoon, cashmere sweaters that cost more than a month’s rent, cinnamon candies, red roses

rhobh: bright louboutins, margaritas and frose, high tea, beachy long dresses, pure white roses, pink champagne toasts at brunch, candied grapefruit peels

right? yeah. 

[gizmosisbuttons]

Episode 4 was a fandom wide callout post.

all you fools too busy being pissed bc Coran went all show crazy and basically re-characterized the paladins to what the masses found entertaining, to notice that the entire episode was literally a fandom wide call out post. they literally called us out guys. 

lets go over the list of things Coran said/did in ep 4 and compare them shall we?

let me preface this by saying he literally wasn't himself and i still love him just as much as before, my gorgeous man.

”I worked up very specific personas for each of you. This is going to help the audience connect on a much deeper level with each team member.” 

as if they didn't already have defining personalities that make them very likable and awesome? sounds familiar right? its one thing to speculate and theorize based on what we know about a character especially if we don’t know a lot about said character. the writers put a lot of time and effort into developing these characters and even said during an interview once that one of the things that bugged them about og Voltron was that the only properly developed character was Keith. the other guys didn't get a chance to be loved. and that was what they aimed to do, to give every paladin and character the chance to be loved. since the beginning the fandom has been bad at this. taking one teeny trait from each character and twisting them so that the only thing that matters is that trait. 

         “lover-boy lance”

throughout the series lance is known  to flirt with...pretty much every cute alien girl. of course. hes handsome, charming, girls love him. Coran wipes away all of the actually relatable things about his personality in favor of this charming flirt who would win over girls. Lance is insecure, he’s witty, he is the freaking sharpshooter, the teams sniper and their glue. he’s voltrons right hand now for a reason. he got into the garrison which is a military space exploration base, not just anyone gets in. hes incredibly intelligent and a great pilot. amazing really. bc simulations are always absolutely terrible and rarely help. oh yea, and hes charming.but god forbid anyone forget that hes a flirt. who cares about the other stuff that will actually help the audience connect with him. 

        “science wiz pidge” 

its no secret that pidge is incredibly intelligent. she is one of the characters who haven't gotten their developing points until this season. in one of the first flashbacks we learned she nearly gave up studying because some kid decided to be a dick and bully her. Matt pulled her out of it and encouraged her to work hard. later on in ep 4 coran says that her science doesn't need to be factually correct because noone will understand her either way. he undermined her intelligence because . well. noone cares what she says as long as it sounds smart. fanfic writers do this a lot. like. a lot. i understand that you may not have the same knowledge that the girl who hacked herself into a military school base undercover at he age of 14-15 (if the theory that the garrison is a high school program is correct) because she had gotten banned for sneaking in and hacking into the computer system, but if you really do insist on focusing her on her smarts, do some research. no to mention. pidge may be the youngest, but she really is more than science and calculations. shes intelligent yes, but she can hold her own in battle (at the age range of 15-17 with no prior battle training), shes afraid of the possible reality that all her efforts are wasted and Matt and Sam are dead, she is actually pretty social with the paladins (she can even be seen hanging out in the kitchen while hunk makes glass cookies.) and beyond her intelligence, shes wise. shes not just random science facts, she knows how to hold her own in situations outside of battle and books. shes street smart. 

       “lone wolf keith”

now i know this was said to allura, and ill get to that. but if the keith vlog showed us anything, its that  hes not just a moody loner teenager.  i am very guilty of this myself. i portray keith as a human disaster. we don’t know hen he was left alone, we don’t really know much of his story. i head canon that his dad left him to fend for himself but every month woul drop off food or money or something. i head canon hes terrible about taking care of his body. but at least i don’t call him moody and move on.  i give him a background to fill in the blank space, but sometimes i forget and focus too much on his folded arms and  pouty face. he smiles. he laughs. hes an actual precious bean.  but hes also afraid of being pushed away. hes guarded and does his best to be strong. he hides his feelings and protects his heart with everything he has. (geez boi who hurt you). he is not the human embodiment of “teenagers” by mcr. aka he has feelings too. not to mention he also got into the garrison, and was the top pilot regardless of how he got in, if it happened to be by recommendation like most people think. 

      “humourous hunk”

as a hunk stan this one annoys me the most. throughout the episode hunk is consistently embarrassed, and even protests the fart noises, fart jokes, etc. he is purposely tripped for laughs. the fandom forgets that hes not just the fat funny guy, or just the personal chef. hes overcome so much since babies first lion flight, he used to get sick, constantly had to be the voice of reason to keep his teammates out of trouble,  he is just as intelligent as pidge and is actually one of the only people that can keep up with her science stuff. keith and lance even stated that they didnt understand anything they'd said. hes a fantastic engineer even if he had a few tummy mishaps. hes an amazing pilot too, and extremely sassy. he and pidge probably rigged the game console to work in space, And hes pretty friendly and cautious. he is NOT meant to be the comic relief. (say it louder for people in the back)

     “shiro the hero”

a lot of the fandom has taken to calling shiro daddy, sexualizing him (”now put on this tight shirt”) and focusing on shiro and only shiro (shiros the “favorite character” of corans little show). hes great. he really is. and the man needs a break. voltron is a kids show. he isnt meant to  be sexualized, none of them are. hes more than his arms and his leadership abilities. the biggest issue i have with the whole shiro thing. regardless of if hes a clone, when shiro returned he cut his hair differently, and wore short sleeves. everyone i know, including me, said they'd be fine with the clone if he had kept his hair long and “as much as i love the arm view” and didnt change his outfit. its a kid show. his body shouldn't matter.i am also guilty of this, and ep 4 opened my eyes to it. coran lifted shiros arm as if to prove that thats what the audience really wanted. he treats shiro differently bc hes the real star here and everyone should know it. ofc, hes the black paladin. (i wonder where the whole “the black paladin is the only one who really matters here” mindset came from. looking @ u ‘84). shiros may have ptsd, and hes constantly trying to hold himself together for his team, and its obviously not easy. maybe thats why hes got a cute white floof. the stress. 

      alluras erasure  

another point that always bugged me. the fandom either forgets allura exists, or that she is just stealing lances place temporarily. Allura is the blue paladin. while keith is gone, she is not filling in. shes a paladin now too. for coran to call her keith, and constantly call her keith, even though she obviously has a few choice words to say about it, its distrespectful. she says his plan is working and he replies with “why thank you keith...i like to keep you in character” once again, erasing her existence. now im not as well versed in this particular topic, but id like you to keep in mind that he talks to his princess with that mouth, and that she IS the princess and not a fill in while keith leads. feel free to elaborate on this more. 

     coran “fires “ team voltron. 

this. i find extremely entertaining. remember that legal trouble last year bc of the leaks? and right around that time the klance shipper started threatening them if they didn't make it gayer and put keith and lance together? the  fandom, who wanted all of this to happen their way, were threatening to get it cancelled and such just because things didnt go their way. shiro, the leader, disagreed with coran and tries to shut him down. and coran in fit of rage says:

you're a bunch of quitters! quitters! i’m a visionary! i have thoughts, ideas, i dont need you anyway. ill rewrite the show, get rid of the whole lot of you, replace you with new paladins! and the show will be better than ever before!...except for you shiro, ill never get rid of you, you're our most popular character!

this is essentially what the fandom was saying. now, was this definitely their plan, to call us out with this bit, in not sure, but honestly, its almost too coincidental.

the writers have made it clear that they heard us, and have always been listening. and really, thats why i love ep4. you're angry because you know you got called out but haven't admitted it to yourself. the writers do their best to bring us the best show possible, but they cant satisfy everyone. why cant we just be happy about Actual Meme (tm) Matt, and look forward to season five instead of fighting them because we got our shit handed right back to us. weve gotten a  taste of our own medicine, so chill. i enjoy them keeping us on our toes, surprising us with every turn, theyre great writers.who cares if one or two things pissed you off? we both know youre not gonna stop watching.

[fart-gate]

SG1

Season 6 episode 1

"REDEMPTION"

PART 1

Notes by me

- there's no previously in the show but I'ma do my own: DANIELS DEAD : /

- "thought they wanted to smoke a peace pipe" oh no

- yo it's my guy siler who says my favorite line of the whole show "incoming wormhole"

- like why are they looking at that worms hole. Leave him be

- when the iris is closed it looks like a butthole

- oh!!! Worm Hole!!!!

- sorry I'll stop talking about worm holes now

- "next" jack is already sick of everyone and everything

- area 51 calling to talk to SAM SPECIFICALLY makes her the hottest character on this show I don't make the rules

- no Daniel in the credits :( but it's the new guy!!! I can't wait to see if they haze him by leaving him alone on an unhabitable planet or something

- it's Jonas!!!!! I'm kinda glad he joined tbh he's honestly a really good guy and by that I mean he's not a villain

- I could be wrong tho

- stop the show right now. He's hanging out in Daniels lab listening to Daniels music and reading Daniels books and notes. Like this.

Alright I guess I'm in love with you now

-Sam taking the new kid on a vacation

- THE WEATHER CHANNEL 😭

- he has a heart breaking backstory i forgot He cant go back bc his people banished him

- "how do I know what color to wear?"

"we call each other every morning"

- very cool how Jonas has the title of The Guy That Showed Them Naquadria

- X302 plane

- wait. Wasn't the x301 the plane they almost died in. Is this a good idea guys

- rocket boosters?!?!?!?!

- they're trying to make a spaceship airplane

- jack walking into Hammond's office, seeing the colonel, and immediately turning on his heel

- a RUSSIAN??? NOT IN MY AMERICA!!!

- also Jonas is RIGHT there AND he's cute you get the best of both worlds

- "over my rotting corpse" he would be fired if this was in any way realistic. He would be shot on the spot

- the way Hammond is describing how much Daniel meant to the team. "A very beneficial viewpoint" 🥺😭😭

- Jonas wants the job so so so bad like he would suck anyone's dick to get this job

- he memorized all of Daniels stuff in only like 2 months????? "Can learn faster than the average human" we love a character with special abilities 👀

- also that alone makes him more qualified to be on missions than anyone they get from russia

- nooooooo the pain in his eyes when she says she doesn't see it happening. I am at war with sam

- we're down to bargaining with tealc now lol

- is it HIS dick he's gonna suck

- tealc: sits down at jacks table with a perfectly reasonable amount of food for someone with his weight height and stamina

Jack: ok lard ass

- if you need a fourth guy that badly youre willing to let a Russian on the team, I think you can consider the alien too

- also I love Jonas and tealc bonding over being from other planets. It's keeping me alive

- yo it's my man bratac!!!

- oh no his wife is sick. Idk how I feel about this they always get weird when they're together

- ok tell me why Jonas looks like a high schooler compared to the others. Like. Baby

- Jack refusing to accept that Daniel needs to be replaced

- also when he's walking with Sam . Hate to see him go but love to watch him leave

- Hammond NOT in the mood for shananagans today I can see it in his angry eyebrows

- hate how tealc gets treated like shit by his ppl even tho he literally saved most of their lives by being a deserter

- " the goauld do not trust their jaffa priests like they used to" hell yeah

- oh myfuck she's dead. Like his wife just died. She's dead

- this whole story about the gate not being able to close is a little boring I'm gonna be honest.

- damn tealc tough break

- his penis bulge when he's talking to ryac in the woods. I'm sorry it's staring at me

- damn ryac chill stop beating the fuck outta your dad homie if you weren't his son he would've taken you out at the knee caps in 3.2 seconds

- also what is this helping lol

- the signal Sam found is too consistent to not be something

- the fact that the naquada in the iris could explode at any given moment seems like a flaw in the blue prints for the gate. Can I get OSHA on the phone

- rip dryac at least you went out being burned like Darth Vader ✊😔

- ryac thinks he's weak bc of the mind meld with the goauld 😭 noooooo

- what an absolutely horrendous idea to sit RIGHT in front of the gate you gonna get halved by the kawoosh

- the hug 🥹

- NOT JONAS DRINKING FROM THE WATER FOUNTAIN TO EAVES DROP

- RODNEY!!!!! Die

- I know that McKay is in the other show so like......im trying to like him but hoo boy

- anything Carter volunteers for Jack immediately does too

- ANUBIS plane?

- I don't trust this thing since Jack and tealc almost suffocated in space

- Sam and Jack matching outfits

- love Rodney being a bitch to Jonas and Jonas just being like Okay Sweetie ❤️ Anyway

- I'm losing it

- I really hope the books and notes that Jonas always carries around are Daniels and not his

- and I hope they all have Jonas little add on markings

- "phasers?"

"sorry, sir"

Jacks right they should attach a torpedo launcher or something just in case

- do they even know WHERE they're going

-this little thing is gonna go warp speed?????? Theyll get torn asunder

-asunder I say!!!

- mission failure bc of ONE SECOND

- Rodney vs Sam

Mean Mug championships

- jacks flirting technique

Step 1

Call her an egghead

Step 2

Marriage

- "you have a way of seeing things at their simplest" OOOOO HE NEEDS SOME MILK

- clap BACK motherfucker

- oh why is anubis a dementor

- "prepare to meet your doom"

"oh please"

Nothing phases jack anymore he's ready to fight dementors now, this is an average Tuesday to him

~

Tealc Whump: Ryac (his son) beats him with a staff weapon. Bloody face, noises

Listening to 🎶 Tell Me Why (Taylors Version) - Taylor Swift 🎶 for Jonas and his Big Feelings about being banished by his own people 😔 can't wait to see him become their child ❤️

[hogwartswelcomesyou]

For all the mods, but especially the Slytherins, how do you feel about the animosity towards Slytherins?And why was it there in the first place? What do you find to be the worst part of the Snake Hate?

Tori (Ravenclaw Mod): ooo nothing’s gonna get me heated more than this. I absolutely love JK and her writing style, but I think she let the HP series fall victim to the far-too easy trope of a completely black and white story in some aspects. In order to have a black/white story of good and bad, you have to have someone/something/a group to demonize. For HP, it was the Slytherins. Her interpretation, I’m guessing, is that ambition leads to corruption which leads to evilllll. While I don’t agree with this at all, I do think this is what she did for the Slytherin characters for the majority of the series. With nearly every character we saw their desire for power overcome their moral senses, which I don’t think is fair. I think Slytherins get an unfair reputation bc people like to paint them as the villains. I think the worst part is how LITERALLY EVERY BAD GUY gets sorted Slytherin. There are so many different motivators that cause someone to turn dark, not just power. Do better. (@ everyone who thinks If someone’s evil they gotta b a snake)

Jinxy (Hufflepuff Mod): (This is more of an analysis of the fandom’s role in the problem instead of the author’s role…I’m sorry if I hurt any feelings! That is not my intention.)

I hate the animosity towards Slytherins. It’s very unfair and very unjustified. A lot of people feel that there needs to be some sort of villain whenever they read a book/watch a tv show/watch a movie/e.t.c. so that they can have a place to vent their angers and frustrations. In the Harry Potter fandom, a lot of people have decided Slytherin house is that villain (despite the plethora of clear villains like Umbridge, Voldemort, or Rita Skeeter that they could go after instead.) Slytherin is treated poorly because people need a place to show their anger/annoyance/misgivings/whatever, and they think that Slytherin is the perfect place to do so (“Hey,” they think, “Someone else is being hateful to Slytherin. That means that I can too!”)

I think that this is ridiculous because, though a group of people can be villains, there is no reason for all of Slytherin to be treated as such. Yes, there were some villains in Slytherin. Yes, the main villain of the series was a Slytherin. But guess what? So was Peter Pettigrew, and without him, Harry’s parents never would have died. Peter was a villain, and he was a Gryffindor…but you never see Gryffindor getting the hate. Plenty of Slytherins were good guys, but they’re always overlooked. The worst part about this hate (besides everything that I’ve already mentioned) is the way that many people seem to think that Slytherin is dark, edgy, and nothing more. This alienates Slytherin from the other houses, who are often portrayed in nicer lights: as being calm, and warm, and flowery. I want Slytherins who dance in pretty flowy skirts, Slytherins who pick flowers, Slytherins who name their cats after food items. I want people to stop treating them like villains and instead write sweet aesthetic posts about how Slytherins smell like citrus and lilac, decorate skinned knees with too many bandaids, and like to read mystery novels late into the night.

Tory (Slytherin Mod): I think Jinxy and Tori have tackled the wrongness of Slytherin’s reputation pretty well, so I think I’m just going to put forward my own theory as to why it is there, at least partially.

Harry, our POV character, is a Gryffindor…and so is J.K. She’s said this on record. Therefore we have a Gryffindor writing mainly about Gryffindors – yes, J.K. created the whole universe and its rules and houses, but she will still clearly and perhaps involuntarily have the most favorable view of characters like her. When you have a writing perspective that’s this narrow, it is almost inevitable that things will be seen in a slanted, narrow way. It’s the same reason why it is often discouraged to write “self-insert” characters in fiction – because not only does it make it harder for you as an author to write this character as being in the wrong, but you are less likely to see opposing points of view with clarity and show good counterarguments, thus you will never be a truly omniscient narrator. This is not an inherently bad thing, but it can make for, in Tori’s words, a very black-and-white approach…which is tragic, because the books themselves embrace shades of gray with characters like Dumbledore, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin!

So, honestly, it’s no surprise that J.K., in the beginning, showed little interest in exploring Slytherin characters (or Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw characters, tbh) – she was most attached to and interested in characters that were like her. As the book series went on, I would argue she suddenly realized how negatively the Slytherins had been depicted and tried to throw some bread crumbs our way (”See? Regulus found Voldemort’s Horcrux! And then died before we could actually meet him in canon…”, “See, Andromeda’s cool! Even though we barely see her…”, ”See, Snape was the bravest man Harry ever knew and named his son after him! Even though he was also a petty, immature bully who tormented Neville for years and loathed his one true love’s child because it resembled the other parent…”). But even in the case of “good Slytherins,” there can still be some shade thrown; Dumbledore comments that perhaps they Sorted Snape too early (because CLEARLY if he’s brave he can’t be in Slytherin, and if he’d be Sorted now he’d be in Gryffindor, the “RIGHT” house). Yes, this could hint to bias on Dumbledore’s part as he’s also a Gryffindor, but it’s not framed that way, as we never get a counterargument to the sentiment.

I don’t think anyone can deny J.K.’s disapproving attitude of Slytherin is all over the books and especially her Pottermore quiz (almost all the “negative” answers give you Slytherin points, for Christ sake) – and I wholeheartedly point to the fact that it can be very, very difficult to jump into another person’s shoes. J.K. is not a Slytherin, and as a Gryffindor (a house that can be known for solely looking inward for their code of honor and seeing things in a very black-and-white manner), it’s unsurprising that she might look at Slytherin‘s values – which in some ways are opposite to Gryffindor’s – and see them as at best  “not as important” and at worst somehow “incorrect.”

As much as we can debate Slytherin’s reputation in the books, though, I think the thing that irritates me the most is when HP fans insult and degrade RL Slytherins by comparing them to the Slytherins in the books. Guys: just because someone was sorted into Slytherin on Pottermore DOES NOT MAKE THEM RACISTS OR DEATH EATERS OR WHATEVER ELSE. Seriously. Even just being aligned with Slytherin does not mean that the person is aligning himself/herself with Death Eaters. If they’re wearing Dark Marks and crud, that’s one thing…but Slytherins =/= Death Eaters. There may be some overlap and correlation, but they are not and have never been synonyms.

Star (Hufflepuff Mod): Just gonna put it out there, Tory, one of the Slytherin mods, was my first (and one of my best) friends on tumblr. She defended me after I made a confession to a Disney blog saying I didn’t like the Lion King, and after loads of attacks from people, she told them all to shut up, and offered me her friendship. I took it, and we’ve been tight ever since. She has bought some merch from Disneyland on my behalf (and sent it to Australia!!) and I’ve bought her some Slytherin shoes! I have met and know some awful Slytherins (my cousins are mostly snakes and they’re awful people, though it’s not because they are from the snake house), but I’ve also met a couple rude and awful Hufflepuffs. Every house has its bad eggs, and JK definitely didn’t do Slytherin any favours by putting most of the bad people in it, but not every bad person is in Slytherin.

Abigail (Ravenclaw Mod): Since I sorta feel like my opinion has already been spoken by Tori, Jinxy and Tory, I just wanna say that any house can become evil, not just Slytherin. I’ve known Gryffindors that are absolutely terrible human beings, extremely mean Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws that I just do not enjoy the company of. I have also met Slytherins who have become my best friends and are some of the nicest people I’ve ever met. So it can go all around, your house doesn’t mean you’re mean or evil: it’s the person.

[redrum-sketches]

finishing mystic messenger (kinda)

ok so since im gonna be finishing mysmes soon (well not really bc of the update) i’m gonna say my opinions on all the characters and i’ll be going in order of whos my fave to least fave routes (i dont hate anyone btw!! its just someone has to be last. And im not doing characters who dont have routes because i dont think it’d be fair and there might be more routes in the future)

707/Luciel/Saeyoung: hoooooly fuck i loved this boy from the beginning, his humour was definitely similar to mine and honestly my literal dream guy. Also yknow not to mention that im a hardcore lover of red hair. I stayed up so many nights on so many other routes to save up hourglasses for him and it was definitely worth it, this was the only route that i almost cried in.

Yoosung: ok this boy was my first route so hes obv my second fave, tbh tho i only picked him because i was told i couldnt do 707 first. But he was still my second choice because if he was real we’d 100% be best friends or dating, hes so cute and i have a habit of liking socially awkward gamer boys so how could i not love him? fun fact; i failed his route the first time because someone told me that i should talk about rika a lot and i interpreted that as ‘say im exactly like rika’.

Jumin: another fun fact; he was my least fave before i played the deep route. No joke, i borderline hated him for the first three routes, i thought he was some jerk who thought he could solve everything with money (jfc i sound like zen). But after the deep route he quickly skyrocketed as a fave, i mean he was so charming and confused, he was kinda like an alien who just needed to be taught how to be human and it was really adorable.

Zen: ok he’d be like, my bestie if he was real. I love him as a friend really, hes not my type when it comes to dating but hes certainly a great person in general. Tbh i dont have anything to say about his own route because he stood out to me when i was playing other routes because he was really supportive and wanted to help, he knew when he had to be straight forward and say that a character was being an idiot and i fuckin loved that. Also the way he gets so angry during jumin and 707′s route was really amusing.

Jaehee: oh boy, this one. Ok the reason she’s last is bc i was disappointed by her route the most. I wanted to like her because i didnt see anything interesting about her in the other routes so i was hoping she’d be more fun in her own route, but no. She became even more boring with her whole quiet workaholic constantly-needing-reassurance thing, at least in 707′s route he was more dynamic about his lack of confidence and made it more interesting to watch, jaehee is just so quiet and “oh okay” about the whole thing. Tbh it seemed like zen became closer to her than i did, not to mention i was actually hoping that it’d actually be a lesbian relationship rather than a ‘just gals being pals’ thing which might’ve been bad on my part for assuming that but still! Also, it feels like you have to disagree with her more often than not in the other routes, which just adds fuel to the fire. I don’t hate her, i just find her unbelievably boring compared to everyone else.

V: i’m gonna update this when his route comes out, but i will say that i feel bad for him in every other route, especially 707′s