pairing: luke patterson x julie molina
julie’s new assignment in her music program is to write a duet with a partner. her partner? nick.
a simple fic all about a jealous luke patterson.
“is it terrible that i want you all to myself?”
masterlist || ao3
warnings: fluffery
A/N: OK shout out to the anon who sent this to me, cause I let out the loudest cackle for a solid minute and my roommate freaked out. Also the bit about her hair - I have naturally frizzy/curly hair. Part from my Colombian and Irish roots. And that is literally what a girl did to me in middle school.
Here you go - enjoy!
~~~~
It started with sniffles in between every other line of their song. Her slightly coughing after rehearsing a song. And then it all went downhill from there. The next day after school she dragged her feet into the studio and almost fell onto the piano, laying her head on the cool surface of its top.
“uhhhh you cool Jules?” Luke honestly had no idea what to do. Was it PMS? Did Nick pull some douchy move like he had been doing lately? Honestly he could rip the spine out of that turd muncher –
“Yeah it’s just hot. Is it hot in here?” “You’re asking the three exact wrong people.” Alex said from behind the drums. But Reggie leapt into action. He hopped over Luke’s guitar stand and walked to Julie, putting a hand on her. Oh right, they could totally do that now. Luke watched, albeit a little jealous that Reggie of all people thought to do that first, and saw Reggie’s face drop.
“Jules you gotta go to bed. You’re burning up.” Julie laughed. “You callin’ me hot?” Luke was about to slam his guitar in Reggie’s smug head for smirking – actually smirking - at the comment when Alex raced over from behind the drums. “She’s flirting with Reggie. This can’t be good.” Alex placed his own hand on her forehead and snapped backwards.
“Can we catch what she has? Is that a thing? Ghost colds? I don’t wanna be sick. Julie go to bed.” “But—” Luke put his guitar down and marched to her, grabbing her hands – oh man they were clammy and sweaty. Not like how they are normally. Normally they’re soft like silk… he snapped his head out of it and pulled her up to him. Her eyes went wide as her body collided with his from his brute strength. “uhhh” He looked down at her as her eyes were dilating wildly. That can’t be good.
“How do you smell good?” She barely whispered – he almost didn’t hear it, but he definitely did. Yep. He’d be tucking that one into his head for later when he had to listen to her ramble about her dates with Nick… “Alright sicko, let’s go. Bed time.” She GROANED but followed him anyway as he held her hand and led her from the garage and up the stairs to the main house.
—-
ok y’all I’m gonna post again my very first piece of writing that posted on this blog, which was coincidently my first post. it was at the time of the humans are weird trope was going around. I was also a freshman(?) in highschool so no judging. (Also I didn’t know if anyone had done this specific bit within the concept yet so I don’t have anyone to credit, I’m just gonna credit theoriginal creator of the trope (did I mention I have no idea who that is)
Also since someone pointed this out: the Human Handbook isn’t a book per se it’s kinda like either a video diary or a picture diary. Either way no words/letters. It’s just book is the best way to translate it
————————————-
It had been three rotations since the human had joined our crew. The captain of our ship had been expressly clear with us, Never bother a human if you don’t know what they are doing I and other members of my crew followed this rule like it was the word of Golak. This is why when I first slithered past Jen I was totally fine ignoring her, that was until I saw what she was doing. I did a double-take. she was just sitting there staring at a red rectangle. Sure it had what humans called “art” on the outside but she wasn’t even looking at that. I went up to her and said her name. No response. Hmmmmm that’s weird humans always respond to their names. Is she hurt or something? I said her name again but this time louder. Still no response. I repeated this process three times and she never even looked up. I resorted to looking at the human handbook. It says
“In case human does not respond to name try tapping them on the shoulder. Be cautious as some humans will go into what they like to call fight instinct when startled.” I put my copy of the book down and slowly approached Jen. I slowly raised one of my limbs and lightly put it onto her shoulder alerting her to my presence. she looked up taking something out of her ‘ear’, as humans called them, as she did so
“ What.” she snapped then a look of recognition crossed her face, “oh sorry Gor I was just at the best part of my book and I didn’t see you there.”
“You’re doing something?” I asked incredulously. “you’re just staring at a rectangle!”
“This rectangle as you put it has words on it,” she turned the rectangle around to show me what the humans refer to as paper. On it was black squiggles, “you see these markings are letters and when you put them together they can make a word. What I’m looking at is called a book. A book is a lot of words that when put together tell stories. I read them, and then use my imagination to bring them to life.” She looked up at me and smiled. Knowing how crazy humans were I just smiled back and slowly backed out of the room. I’m gonna make a note for the human guidebook. Humans like sitting alone staring at squiggles for hours on end.
The humans were at third meal when Zork'ak sat on the bench. The nutrient researchers had been experimenting with the human flavors, attempting to add it to the meals. This bowl had a slight ‘savory’ undertone that Zork'ak very much enjoyed.
Wren moved over to allow Zork'ak to sit next to her, which caused a weird constriction around xer straque, xer fluid-pumping organ. Wren smiled at xem, and it happened again. Xe might need to go to the medical wing after meal.
"I don’t feel sorry,“ Adam was saying.
"You sprained my wrist!” Steve was clutching his extremity to his chest.
"You should’ve landed the right way.“
"Oh, shut up,” Carrie grumbled.
As Carrie lifted her utensil to her mouth, Zork'ak caught a glimpse of a long cut running the length of the lower half of her extremity. “How did you hurt yourself, Carrie?”
She looked surprised. “Where?” Zork'ak carefully traced the line with xer talon. Carrie twisted to look at the scabbed cut. “Hmm. Wonder when that happened.”
"The piercing of your skin sends pulses through your nerves, correct?“
"Well, yeah.”
"So you should feel it.“
"Well, I mean. You usually do. I guess I just didn’t notice when it happened this time.”
"Sometimes our body can be more focused on other things or like the pain is so minor we barely notice or remember it,“ Adam said. "I mean we obviously notice big things.”
"I probably cut on something while we were at the collection field.“ Carrie continued eating.
"She also is the kind of person who doesn’t notice a lot.” Adam closed his eye in what Zork'ak had been told is called a 'wink.’ “I, on the other hand, do notice things like this.” He flipped his extremity over to reveal two blue spots on his arms. Zork'ak did not study human bodily science, just behavior so xe did not know what this medical condition was.
"What disease do you have?“ Zork'ak leaned forward to look at Adams, running a talon over the skin to see if it felt different. Xe had been told that xe could touch the humans without asking permission in these situations.
"Oh, it’s not a disease. It’s called a bruise. It means my blood vessel, the tube that brings the blood to all my organs, was ruptured. It’ll go away after a few days.”
"You rupture delivery vessels that are necessary to keep your organs functioning and it does not affect your body?“
Adam shrugged. "We have multiple blood vessels.”
"Is this an extremely painful occurrence?“ Zork'ak had noticed humans did not seem to mind pain.
"Nah. I mean, you can usually tell if you are going to bruise because it hurts a little when that spot gets hit, but very minor.”
"So you don’t notice when you are cut but when one of your… blood vessels,“ Adam nodded,” blood vessels ruptures but you do notice when you touch an object too hard.“
"Uh, kind of? It just really depends.”
Zork'ak did not understand how some humans would notice these nerve impulses but others did not. Xe turned to look at Wren, who had been listening to the conversation, and noticed a dark purple spot on Wren’s upper extremity.
"What is this?“ Xe pointed at the spot on Wren’s arm.
"Uh,” Wren tried to twist her extremity. “Where?” She was stretching it out, twisting around, finally able to look at the spot on the back side. “Oh, bruise.” She poked it. “Ouch. That hurt.” She proceeded to press it again. And again.
"Wren?“ She touched the spot again and wrinkled her nose. "Why do you continue to press the spot that hurts?”
She looked at xem. “You know, I don’t have an explanation really. I guess it doesn’t hurt that much so it’s enticing to keep pressing it to see if it hurts more each time. I’m not sure.”
"How did you get that bruise?“
"Couldn’t tell you.”
Zork'ak looked back at Adam. “I thought you said you all noticed when you have ruptured your blood vessels, and that one looks more painful.”
"Hers is a dark color because it’s healing, not because it’s more painful. Bruises are nearly the same pain level. Some hurt when you press them,“ he cut his eyes at Wren, "but having them doesn’t hurt really.”
"She does not know how she received hers.“
He looked at her arm, then his. "Like I said, it depends.”
"But.“ Zork'ak was looking at their bruises. "How do you-you don’t notice-I do not understand.” Klyls always noticed any abnormality in their body’s functioning. There was not a time that Zork'ak had not noticed something causing xem pain.
"It’s complicated, I guess. Our species doesn’t have set rules really.“
"I have noticed.” Xe looked at Wren. “It makes your species quite hard to study.”
She laughed. “Good. You can’t know all of our secrets.” She winked at xem then.
Zork'ak found it hard to breathe for a fraction of a cycle. Xe definitely needed to go to the medical wing.
Most animals on earth are capable of reproducing until they die.
The animal kingdom is full of strange reproductive strategies, but when it comes to menopause, humans are among the weirdest. In just three species on the planet — humans, killer whales and pilot whales — do females routinely stop breeding years before the end of their lives. Human women spend about a third of their life span after menopause.
Menopause is the time in most women’s lives when menstrual periods stop permanently, and they are no longer able to bear children.
Many species become less fertile as they age. For instance, female chimpanzees experience declining fertility rates from their early 30s onward until their reproductive chances reach zero around age 45. What makes humans and some whales different is that they carry on living and surviving with good odds for so long after menopause, whereas chimpanzees and other animals rarely survive much beyond the point where their eggs run out, even in captivity.
So, if aliens follow the pattern of the majority of life on earth they too will be able to basically reproduce until they’re shortly about to pass of natural causes.
Someone write about those poor aliens freaking out when they learn their female crewmember they’ve known for years, who seems so young, it no longer able to bear children and is surely going to die soon!
*********
Sarah stared at her shipmates, especially Grth'x, who had moved to the cover of the room and was chanting under his breath while rocking backand forth rhythically. “Why is Grthx starting the ‘Chant of mourning?’”
Chizzik placed a tarsel claw on Sarah’s shoulder in the show of human sympathy, “Because he loves you Human-Sarah. We all do, we shall miss you greatly.”
Sarah stared at them, “The fuck? I’m not going anywhere.”
This seemed to be the wrong thing to say, Grth'x started chanting a little louder.
Chizzik started making a whining noise by rubbing the plates of her thorax; the cry of distress, the equivalent of crying to her species. “Human-Sarah, I know you humans are a stubborn race, but you must face reality. You are no longer able to bare children, your life is coming to an end.”
Sarah slapped away Chizzik’s claw, “Fuck off. Having kids isn’t the be-all and end-all of a woman’s life. Life isn’t over just cause I can’t have kids.”
Chizzik almost admired the strength of human denial. It was the trait which had made them survive their deathworld. When even their own planet was telling them “You can’t” they were pushing ahead shouting the phrase “Watch me!” But there was surely no denying it now.
“I know it may not be easy to accept. I thought humans were a long lived race, you seem so young,”
Sarah hit a fist onto the table “Damn right! I’m 49, not even middle age. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’ve got another 50 years, at least.”
Chizzik looked confused. “But, your fertility, it has ended. When a life-form is no longer able to bear children, it is a undeniable sign that their bodies are shutting down, their life is ending.”
“What?” Sarah stared at Chizzik and the, still chanting, Grth'x. Understanding -albeit a confused understanding- was starting to dawn on her. “Not for humans it isn’t. Menopause doesn’t mean our life is ending. Watch me, I’m just getting started.”
Grth'x stopped chanting at looked at Sarah with a confused exression that matched Chizzik’s own. “What is Menno-Paws?
Sarah stared at her two friends and sighed with resignation. This was going to be one of those things that would end up in the human guide book, she just knew it.
Humans have a history of denying themselves basic needs in face of a greater goals. Some humans become so consumed by their set task that needs such as sleep, food, hydration, and safety are put aside. At The Gathering, one of the largest gaming conventions in Europe, a part of the volunteer crew is tasked with making rounds to check that people are following up on their basic needs for sustenance, sleep, and movement. Certain athlethes will abstain from physical contact, paeticularly sexual contact, to improve their focus before an event. Artists, office workers, soldiers, nurses - allmost every group of humans can bring forth a story, either from personal experience, or heresay, to underline the human ability to repress basic needs for a period to accomplish something.
And then you have the optimized aliens who have seen the light and have structured everything so that they have every need met at mostly any given time. Now, take this alien and put them in a group project with other humans. Who are of a mind to finish everything quickly and then slack for the rest of the allocated time. Because humans are experts at using external stimulants, such as caffeine and nicotine, to supress being tired or hunger. Because college is no joke and humans are good at riding the bullshit wave.
Imagine some haggard student introducing his alien friend to the great Student God: Bullshitticus, and his two lovely muses Thesaurata and Caffeinata. Alien never studied human religious practices and gets awed about the fact that there is a human deity dedicated to writing papers, and his muses are the personifications of a vocabulary and an external stimulant used to forcefully keep people awake. Of course human student is full of caffeine and running on spite and pizza, so they forget to mention that this god is an old tumblr meme (and aliens have actually made courses that study memes) so this Alien edits the Horrendous Human Handbook ™. The knowledge spreads and aliens are baffled. The humans familiar with this old meme will quietly laugh and pretend nothing is wrong, because humans are also masters of waiting to see if shit hits the fan in a hillarious manner.
Humans are incredibly resilient; we can break the bones in a limb and be back in good health in a few months. What’s really incredible, though is what humans can live without. If aliens think we’re weird because we can break bones and recover, how would they react to surgeries where we have organs removed?
For example, a gastrectomy is where part or even all of the stomach is removed.
Alien: But don’t you humans need a stomach to digest food?
Human: Yes, but it mostly digests proteins, mashes up food, and stores it. Most digestion occurs in the small intestine, so when major problems occur doctors may bypass the stomach and connect the esophagus directly to the small intestine.
Alien: But wouldn’t there be extreme complications with that?
Human: Yes, sometimes there are complications but they can usually be avoided by frequently eating small meals. We also take vitamin supplements to make up for other losses.
Even more extreme, a pneumonectomy, where one lung is removed.
Alien: Ok, the stomach removal was reasonable. But the lungs?!
Human: Only one lung- we do need to breathe after all.
Alien: But don’t you need both lungs? What about efficientcy?
Human: Well, it’s not too bad. The lung can grow new alveoli and can be up to 80% as efficient as 2 lungs.
Alien: But-
Human: It’s not too bad. Some people who had this surgery ran marathons, so as you can see, it’s fine.
Alien: No, it’s not!
Perhaps most astonishing, a hemispherectomy, where a half of the brain is removed.
Alien: I thought the lungs were bad. What is this?!
Human: Ok, granted this one is extreme. We only do it in really young people, though.
Alien: Is that supposed to make me feel better? Why?!
Human: We only do this when cicumstances are extreme. For example, to treat seizures originating from one side of the brain or to help when one hemisphere is bigger than the other.
Alien: And it works?
Human: Yes, most of the time.
Alien: *spluttering*
Granted, these are a few of the more extreme ones, but still, the fact that we even have operations to remove organs is astounding, and we even do it to other animals to help them. Also, the sheer amount of -ectomies is incredible. How would aliens react?
Our civilization had finally reached its peak; our domain stretched nearly the entire length of the galaxy. Hundreds of civilizations pledged allegiance to our rule, and for that were pampered with our love and resources. Some did not comply, and they were punished for being unruly upstarts in our domain, and once we had shown them the error of their ways they accepted our ways and were loved and pampered as the rest.
It was toward the last part of the cycle of 420^M51, our scouts had found an irregularly large solar system. Only one planet had life upon it and what we found disturbed us greatly. It was a planet of evolved sapient apes, naked as they were, wrapped themselves in the skins and fabrics of the other life around them. They were suicidal, destructive, aggressive, deceitful; everything we were not. I had never known another species to kill one of it’s own, or even to take it’s own life, but these creatures did it all willingly. I learned a work while monitoring their world beyond what they called the Kuiper belt, Genocide.
It had taken me many glanns to properly give the word a definition that I could comprehend, and when I did I wish I hadn’t. The utter annihilation of a group that was not your own,every adult, child, every bit of it’s culture, is what it meant. To do so not only confounded me morally but even through an ecological standpoint would it not greatly change the environment and cause more species to go extinct? Truly no creature would be capable of such an act, but as I continued to monitor them, the more I realized they would not only willfully, but willingly, fanatically, dogmatically. I fear we have stumbled upon a species that fully deserved punishment for it’s ways.
I reported my findings back to the Council and they deliberated the fate of this race. This civilization so prone to civil war, our strategists assumed that we would be able to silently pick off many of their factions while the rest were at war with the others. It was simple, but we felt it should work. I had failed to gather how fast they were able to adapt and engineer,for by the time our ships arrived, they had not only gone to the moon and back, but they had learned to split the atom, and had already colonized the fourth planet and many of the moons of the fifth and sixth planets all within five of their generations!
Fortunately, all of their society was splintered, the planets had demanded their own sovereignty like the “nations” they had left back on earth, so there was not a single united group among them besides alliances different groups had against others. Our ships descended upon the moon of what they called Titan. Our delegates landed and forced the inhabitants to submit or else we would employ force to make them do so. Our translator caught a single word from the moon’s military leader; it simply said “Nuts.” We did not know what it meant, so another warning was sent. We intercepted an outgoing distress signal to the other colonies around it. I found it amusing, as the moon’s around Titan weren’t even in a non-aggression pact, no one would come to their aide.
Our sensors indicated that they were picking up multiple signals off our starboard side. Many signals indeed, hundreds of the colonial attack craft had been summoned from all across the system. The instant unification had our commander flabbergasted, we all had assumed their independence was one out of inherent genetics, not of circumstance. How horribly wrong we were. We found more communication flaring to and from all of the planets in their solar system, more warnings, more information, more united resolve. We began to calculate the total miniature empires and alliances they had, coupled with all of their individual armies and the technological might of each one. We soon realized we needed more ships.
What we thought was a simple policing action on a broken and faulted race such as these turned into an outright war against an entire solar system consisting of tens of billions of souls, all of whom would die before submitting to our divine rights as rulers of the galaxy. Our efforts soon shifted from social progress to keeping this tiny system at bay, they had already forced us out multiple times, and had taken many more of our systems around them. Their empire was growing, unknowingly, we had united them. All of their millennia of war and strife had trained them and bred them to this moment in history when all of their accumulated data would finally be taken out on some ignorant outsider, something they could completely focus their hate and resolve on. We did not realize what kind of mistake we had truly made until we received the last transmission we would ever get from them, “We know where your home is. No survivors, no prisoners, no mercy.” We were finished, because though their diplomatic branch had withered and fell; their martial branch never showed us respite.
“Hank, so I’ve been studying the maps and why haven’t we invaded this Earth yet?”
“No, you want to stay away from Earth, Bob.”
“What do you mean. These hoomans are very primitive. It’s the only planet in that area that we haven’t conquered.”
“Humans. Hey, you don’t want to mess with those.”
“I don’t get it.”
“You should talk to Dave.”
“Dave? Dave from accounting Dave?”
“Yep. He was there.”
“What? On Earth? Why is he in accounting?”
“You should ask him that.”
***
“Dave? I’ve heard you’ve been to Earth…”
“Has Hank sent you? He always does this. Sends the newbies to me. To explain why Earth is off limits.”
“I’m sorry, I just don’t get it. The humans are very primitive and…”
“Primitive they are yes, but they are fearless, man. They drink poison, eat poison, inhale poison-”
“You mean like soldiers in training?”
“I mean everybody. Sometimes even their young ones. Sometimes it’s encouraged in their young ones. We think they’re trying to build up immunity from a young age. But that’s not the worst. No. They seek situations where they could die. They jump off cliffs and bridges with nothing but a thin rope tied around them, they jump out of aircrafts with nothing but a bag on their back, they try to get close to a natural predator every opportunity they have. All of it with absolutely no regard to the danger. I mean they’re also beating each other for fun. They get their bodies broken, but do those things again and again.”
“So they’re fearless, I still don’t see why we couldn’t beat them.”
“That’s because I haven’t gotten to the worst part. Okay, so we were supposed to get a specimen for observation. We got one, sedated and all that according to the protocol. We start the standard examinations and that’s when we find out that it’s bleeding. Nothing we did, it had this hole on its body and it was actively bleeding. But all the vitals seemed fine, the only thing we saw was that it was in a huge amount of pain. So we finished and let it go to observe it further. We left the sensors in to see any changes. And man, it did nothing. We let the human go and it just walks around like nothing is happening all the while we can see it’s still bleeding and in pain. And I’m talking off charts pain. So we sent the readings to HQ and they told us to get out of there, don’t engage, if attacked start peace negotiations. Nobody’s been allowed to come near Earth ever again. I mean, it messed me so much I asked for an office job because I couldn’t do missions anymore.”
“So don’t go near Earth. Got it, man.”
The aliens can not figure how a race that laughs and giggles over normal bodily functions, dare each other into near death experiences, and over all say ridiculous things (seemingly) on purpose, could advance past the ability to live in a cave.
Human: “Yeah, toxicology became a thing in the 1920s. Spurred on because during the prohibition people were drinking methanol and industrial alcohol.”
Alien: why on earth would they do that?
Human: well…if you’re desprate enough…
ALien: but surly you realized that ethanol is a type of poison as well?
human: ….yeah…that became apparent after the prohibition ended and the majority of people drank themselves to death…and we just don’t care…even though alcohol is legal, people are still making moonshine and wood alcohol for chuckles and grins.
alien: ….
human: oh and about the original topic i wanted to talk about before we started talking about alcohol. anyway, toxicology became a thing and if you look at the old photographs, they’re not even wearing any gloves when they’re dealing with the chemicals. the window in the back of the photo is shut, and they don’t have goggles or masks. man, just thinking about all the things we know about lab safety now amazes me.
alien:…how are any of you alive…
“I’ve heard they can raise the temperature of the whole room by exercising.”
“Quick, think up an excuse!”
***
Fun fact, my first published short story was about human body temperature being exotic and useful. I can proudly say that I was writing Humans Are Weird before it was cool. Is it any wonder I love this stuff?
From the Intergalactic Journal of Mechanics and Biology
They say that a single human once ran for 80 hours 44 minutes without stopping to sleep. He covered a distance of 350m (360km) during that time. At a relative speed of less than 5 miles an hour, the speed pales in comparison to other apex predators of their planet. The spotted cheetah can run up to 76 miles per hour, but can only sustain that for approximately 1,500 feet. The best bread and trained horses of their planet may be able to run 100 miles in a day, but many who attempt this feat never finish.
Despite its relative speed, the human can sustain a relative pace of four miles an hour four a little over three earth solar cycles without rest (keep in mind that this is not an examination of average ability).
Once thought to be the most endurance evolved species in the galaxy, the Rundi can run for an hour at the speed of fifteen miles per hour, but in a long distance race with a human, they find themselves slowly outmatched.
First, they outpace the human easily, they grow slowly tired, they fall to a slow walking speed, they try to maintain, but their body overheats. Eventually the steady footsteps of the approaching human converge and then pass ahead to recede into the distance.
Compared to most creatures, the human has a few advantages. Bipedal in nature, they can carry objects with them as they run like water and food, the arches in their feet act as shocks and springs to decrease shock. The feet are oriented straight ahead and their toes are shortened to decrease the mechanical work of the foot. Spring-like tendons and ligaments aid them as they run. A narrow waist that can pivot allows for the swimming of arms during running action. A heightened sense of balance and movement keeps them on a straight course and allows their head to remain steady as they go. About 20 miles of energy can be stored in the muscles themselves. Additionally, one of the largest muscles in the body, the gluteus maximus is not engaged during a brisk walk but during a run. But the biggest factor, is their ability to cool through sweat.
As far as we know, humans, and some of their earthly counterparts, are the only creatures in the universe that excrete water to catalyze cooling.
They were going to die.
They were going to die.
The sun would come up, and burn them to death and they were going to die.
Krill never thought that his life would end this way. Surrounded by the strange Humans on a class A death planet waiting for the star to rise over the horizon and melt them to a crisp.
So, I had a rather interesting and hysterical idea earlier thinking about human hormones.
Forewarning, this one is super goofy and also super weird, but I thought it was fun.
I have established, in my earlier stories, that it would be interesting if human hormones could be used as drugs for other alien species who do not tend to possess the chemical routs that humans do, hypothetically, supposing that they can still be affected by those same chemicals. My example as dopamine being used by aliens as the new heroin.
However, my other thought shifted to Oxytocin and how it can be used to battle depressive symptoms. As a fact, petting a dog or cat is known to cause feelings of good, well-being, and boost mood. New mothers need it to bond with their children, and fathers who have more of it show increased bonding with their children as well. That train of thought brought me to an article I read a couple years ago about how there are people out there who practice “Professional cuddling”. As in you hire a random person to spoon with because your lonely or whatever.
Be interesting if humans aren’t the only ones who suffer from mental illness like depression, and somehow, in some way they figured out that human Oxytocin is effective in combating those feelings in certain alien species. However, it isn’t right to just go in a harvest the hormone from humans, we sort of need it. A cheaper and more cost effective option is to hire a human to (A) pack bond with them, and potentially become a sort of emotional support human or (B) hire a human for a session a week.
When humans first joined the galactic assembly, their heightened predator traits and excessive survival instincts made the entire galaxy apprehensive. In essence, they were a species of paradoxical extremes. They were soft and squishy missing a hard outer shell, but they verged on almost impossible to kill. They thrived in stressful environments, but were brought to their knees by “Stubbed toes”.
All at once they were aggressive, passive, loyal, backstabbing, serious, fun-loving, adorable, dangerous, unbelievably smart, and potentially the dumbest creatures to have ever wandered the cosmos. They were more than useful to have as a crewmember, and the products they introduced to the galaxy were revolutionary.
Over time, Humans, themselves, grew in popular demand around the galaxy. Human hair was known for its tensile strength, teeth were a desired fashion accessory (see the human tradition using shark teeth), distilled urine can be used in explosive production, while both underground dopamine and adrenaline markets have caused the largest drug craze in galactic history, and the largest drug crisis, as both have adverse side effects in large doses. Adrenaline/epinephrine itself being poisonous in excessive quantities.
The human craze had taken the galaxy, a tide of human products, cinema, and entertainment had fundamentally changed the universe.
Numerous medical advancements have sprung into place simply from studying the immune systems of these class A deathworlders. Not to mention the surprising discovery of human hormone release through contact which is a known treatment for depressive symptoms in class Alpha-Iota species.
This discovery was both revolutionary and complicated. The human pituitary gland is deep within the brain, and hormone extraction is both difficult, inadvisable and unethical. However, from our understanding, we learned that the human brain released this hormone (called Oxytocin) through contact with other members of their species, and, as we learned, members of other species from their planet.
Steps forward from here were hesitant and exploratory, but the humans seemed surprisingly willing and interested in helping. Their empathy was unfounded and overwhelming. Many who understood the struggles of our most desperate clients enthusiastically agreed to help saying “If we can’t cure ourselves, we can help cure you”.
Our first steps were faltering, but the humans were enthusiastic and our patients were desperate. Months of research culminated in the discovery that simple contact with a human for at least thirty minutes a day could reduce depressive symptoms by 65%. In less severe cases, the occasional session with a human was enough.
Steps were awkward at first. While humans are known to be a social group, many other species aren’t, and facilitating close physical contact like “hugging” or “cuddling” was difficult, but results are results, and soon enough the first official clinic had opened.
Humans working there full time were at first disbelieving and amused taking to calling themselves “Cuddle buddies” to satiric effect.
Following the success of the facility, others had cropped up over the galaxy. Soon enough independent human agencies were hiring out their own humans on roving ships of “Freelance cuddlers.” The galactic Assembly eventually put laws in to place requiring licensing for such work, but that did not stop the humans.
As I understand, humans consider the job a quick and easy cash-grab. It is not unknown for members of a human crew to have a professional job, but also possess a cuddle license for quick access to extra, lucrative work.
Some humans are employed full time by ships for just such purposes. The success of such arrangements jumps to 75% once the human is successful pack bonded with the crew.
It should be noted, however, that while humans are often willing and helpful in certain situations, they are very sensitive to being used. It is advised to treat a human with friendship and respect. If a species is known for backstabbing behavior, or has a history of mistreating other species, it is inadvisable to hire a human. Even those who are licensed to cuddle are deadly, and will not hesitate to kill under certain circumstances. It must not be forgotten that humans are an Apex predatory species, and still retain some of their baser instincts.
Off to the side of the bridge, Krill looked up from that months subscribed transmission of Galactic Medical Weekly, to glance over at Captain Vir, lounging in the captain’s chair shamelessly perusing an colorful magazine krill had come to know as “comic book”. The human was large, muscular, with front facing eyes, a mouth full of glittering teeth, and sharp plates of keratin at the ends of his fingers.
Krill had trouble picturing the man picking up such work on the side
“Captain?” He asked catching the human’s attention.
Captain Vir glanced up from his Comic one eyebrow raised, “Yeah? What’s up?”
What’s up, one of those human phrases again. Krill held up the article “Have you heard of these…. Cuddle licenses before.”
The captain let off a bark of laughter sharp teeth glittering predatory eyes twinkling in merry amusement, “Who the hell doesn’t?” The rest of the crew, still on the bridge, laughed in unison, and together they reached into their packets withdrawing intergalactic passports.
Captain Vir held his out for Krill to see pointing to a small annotation in the far right corner, “Licensed in 53 quadrants.” He snapped the passport shut, “In fact, it was my first job after losing my leg in the war to the Drev.” He laughed again, “Matter of fact the first client I worked with was one of the Drev officers. Poor guy kinda lost it after losing the war, seeing all those humans showing back up missing half their limbs.”
Krill felt his innards churn, “Why would you do that. What if he had held a grudge. He could have killed you.”
The human gave a shrug, “He was too out of it for grudges, and I felt sort of bad for him. Although, ever tried spooning someone ten feet tall with six arms and an exoskeleton like steel, it isn’t easy.”
The crew laughed.
The captain held up a finger, “We are still good friends to this day. The trick is to have absolutely no shame. The career isn’t for people worried about embarrassing themselves.”
A crew member chuckled, “You must have felt right at home than captain, seeing as your fine with showing your face here every day.”
The captain gave a grin, “Hey, don’t knock it. It is an admirable profession, and it earned me enough credits to buy this ship.”
Krill shook his head in wonderment, the universe must have a sense of humor. No way it was a coincidence that one of the best treatments for melancholic symptoms was to cuddle with an apex predator.
Out there in the universe, some cosmic being was laughing.
As always thank you for reading, and I would appreciate any new ideas.
Humans are extraordinary. We bond with everything.
Stabby the space roomba, that does not even exist, is a proof.
Opportunity rover is another.
So, I am learning about color perception in one of my classes, and it turns out the ability to see and understand color is more complex than we often think despite the limited range on the electromagnetic spectrum between 400-700 nanometers. So, I thought I would write a little story about how human color vision is weird.
The war with the Gnar’lack had reached a critical turning point. The Finnerian council was at its wits end. They were losing the war, and badly. The Unified Galactic Assembly had sent aid in the form of additional troops to supplement their own, but all efforts had been for not, and the assisting soldiers had been withdrawn home at the order of their home worlds.
The Finneri were on their own with no chance of aid left in the galaxy and their spirits broken. Soon the last transport ship would be sent off world with their children in an attempt to preserve their species.
The likelihood of which seemed slim.
General Lin-Ar was camped with what was left of his men along the southern polar border waiting for, what was likely to be, their last and final battle.
If this last ditch plan didn’t work, they were doomed to extinction at the hand of their greatest enemy. The world would be overrun by the Gnar’lak and they would become only a memory in distant histories.
“General?” The radio signal intercepted him on his posterior receptors, and he turned to face the speaker. Infrared and thermal sensors within his eyes picked up the spot as a glowing radiant beacon of heat.
“Commander.”
“Are we ready?”
“We have to be.”
The two turned themselves to the command’s last interstellar communication tower and began the process.
“What happens if none answer?”
“Then we give up our last hope.” There was a long silence as the two contemplated those words before
“How do we know the stories are even true?”
General Lin-Ar paused to think about that for a moment. Truth be told he wasn’t really sure if the stories were true. This far out on the border of the galaxy, stories of humans were still more myth than fact, but what other choice did he have. It he had to choose between a long shot and giving up, there was only one option.
“Send the transmission.”
The commander gave a nod stepping up to the tower to input the message, and there they waited with bated breath. The infrared monitor on the far wall remained silent for a horrible moment before bursting into an array of blinding intensity.
The shape sitting there was so blinding, the cameras were having trouble adjusting to the signal.
“This is Captain Vir of the USS Stabby responding to an urgent SOS from the planet…. Uh…. Gnf…. I can’t pronounce that.”
Relief washed over the general as he moved to the screen. The translator was working.
“So the stories are true.” Came the static response.
“True and serious as a heart attack, General…. Anyway what can I do you for?”
The human spoke oddly. From what he heard they were supposed to be a barbaric and warlike race, but as far as he could tell the human was on the far side of nonthreatening even a little spacey. His hopes began to dwindle.
“We are the Finneri, and we are close to extinction. For over millions of years we have been at war with the Gnar’lak. Despite all of our efforts, we have failed to hold them back. I represent what is left of my race begging you for assistance. You are our last hope.”
“Well S***, that does sound bad. I warn you, General. I represent only one ship. I don’t know if there is much we can do.”
“If all the stories I have heard are correct, than I would rather take that chance.”
“Hm…. Well, how could I say no to that? Give us a day.” The com went dead
General Lin-ar paused in confusion, “He had expected a measure of resistance. Any race would have. To help a people on the brink of destruction against overwhelming odds was reason for concern, but the human had agreed almost out of hand recklessly agreeing to a suicide mission without knowing anything about the situation.
Why would anyone do that?
What had they gotten themselves into?
Perhaps the quick agreement had just been a cultural construct. Maybe the humans would never show up, but personal discussion required that they agree in order to avoid offending. Only time would tell.
***
“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD IT WAS TO STUDY YOU PEOPLE!?!?! OURS BIOLOGISTS HASENT HAS SLEEP IN WEEKS TRYING TO STUDY THE ECOSYSTEM YOU KEEP CHANGING! one generation its on the verge of collapse, with clear intentions of killing it. then the next generation you are hell bent to repair it! dont get me started on how much of a headache it was that you kept reviving extinct species you killed! we look like total idiots having to go back and change reports to the empire! not to mention are engineer also wants a word with the person who keeps changing tech so that they have to start almost from scratch studying it! like you went from not knowing anything about space to ‘oh we know the composition of near by exoplanets, how they formed, and how the universe was created’ and ‘we should colonize and terraform this planet.’ WITH IN FOUR GENERATIONS! YOU EVEN LANDED ON YOUR *(&(*^(^*&^& (translation unknown…likely to be a swear worse then any word we have) MOON WITH IN TWO DECADES OF DISCOVERING THE TECH TO GO INTO SPACE! oh and our scientists studying human culture wants kill you all herself because you keep changing culture almost on a daily bases!!! and not to mention you somehow DOUBLED YOUR LIFESPANDS SOME HOW. AND OUR GEOLOGIST IS FREAKING OUT BECAUSE YOUR PLANET DIDNT EVEN HAVE OXYGEN ORIGINALLY AND A FREAKEN CORAL MADE ALL OF IT, FROM WHICH OTHER LIFE FORMS ADAPTED TO THE OXYGEN! oh and dont even get me started on your ‘internet’!”
this would then launch a new golden age of human progressiveness and technological advancements greater then anyone has ever dreamed for one goal, and one goal only. to troll the aliens as much as humanly possible.
it will be the galaxy’s greatest prank.
So, we’ve all seen the posts about how alcohol, caffeine and spicy food is viewed as horrifying poison across the galaxy, and how aliens are all suitably horrified when they see us consume it.
Tell you what I haven’t seen mentioned, but which is also varying levels of toxic to most not human animals? Theobromine. Normally found in chocolate.
Like, can you imagine being captured by aliens who are planning to poison you to send a message to your crew. They spend some time describing this poison, including the risk of internal bleeding, vomiting, seizures and heart palpatations as you get steadily more and more afraid.
Then the executioner brings out a mug of steaming hot chocolate.
I don’t know about you, but if i’d been in space for an indefinite amount of time on what are presumably carefully calculated rations, I would be kicking aliens out of the way for that cup.
I’m not the most eloquent writer, but I’ve had this idea kicking around for a while and figured I’d put it out into the universe.
A lot of the basis for the “humans are space orcs” stuff is the idea that we’re pretty durable compared to many species, yeah? When it comes to physical trauma, we can bounce back from most things that don’t kill us outright, especially given the benefit of hypothetical space-age technology, and adrenaline is one heck of a drug when it comes to functioning under stress.
But that doesn’t make us unkillable, and even though we can survive debilitating injuries and not die from shock, it doesn’t mean it’s fun. Dying of shock sucks, but at least it’s probably quick.
So - Imagine a ship, adrift in space, slowly being drawn into a star or something. In order to save the ship, someone has to repair the hyper-quantum-relay-majig on the hull or in the engine or whatever. Bit of a problem though- there’s a ton of deadly, deadly radiation (Wrath of Khan style) or poisonous fumes or, I dunno, electrical current, between the crew and the repair. Like, enough to kill most species instantly, so the crew is just like, ‘welp, guess we’ll die then’. But then.
BUT THEN
They ask the human. Because everyone’s heard the stories - you’re basically unkillable, right? Could you survive long enough in there to fix it? And their human goes real quiet for a second, but still says ‘Yeah, I could fix it’. And the rest of the crew is like, ‘Whaaaaaa, it won’t kill you?’ and the human repeats “I can fix it” (which isn’t an answer, but no one catches that, not yet at least), so they send ‘em in. And the human fixes it, they come back, the ship flies to safety, and the crew is thrilled to survive. If the human is a little quiet, well, they’re entitled after pulling off a miracle. Everyone else is just excited to get to the nearest station’s bar to tell their very own human story, cuz, ‘those crazy humans, amiright?’.
The good mood keeps up until the human is late for their next shift. At first it’s just faint unease, but- but they earned a bit of a lie-in, right? No reason to begrudge them some extra rest, even if it is a little weird for them to oversleep. They’ll be fine. Humans are always fine.
(Right?)
(…Wrong.)
- What is… help. Help!-
- ake up! You have t-
- been days. You need sleep, you-
- nother transfusion. We could-
- out of sedatives!-
A week later, the crew finally reaches the station. They stumble into the bar, haggard and haunted. And over the next months and years a new rumor about humans starts to make its way through space. A rumor unlike any before.
‘Be careful with your humans’ it whispers. ‘Their strength is not always a blessing. Be sure they don’t do something they can’t come back from, because when a human dies… they die slowly.’
my ancient greek history professor is making us post memes weekly. i swear to god
heres one for you
my time has come for hyperspecific classics memes
I…I need context. I’m gonna research all this shit one day.. If I remember after work
I understand most of these!
