this is the ugliest thing ever

Traditionally, vampires could not see their reflection because mirrors were silver-backed. With the invention of aluminum-backed mirrors, a vampire sees their reflection for the first time only to find out they are the ugliest thing they have ever seen.

◆ —— LILO & STITCH QUOTES STARTER PROMPTS.

  • ’ Why are you all wet? ‘ 
  • ’ Aloha! ’
  • ’ You’re vile. You’re foul. You’re flawed. ' 
  • ’ Ohana means family. Family means no one gets left behind or forgotten. ’
  • ’ If you want to leave, you can. I’ll remember you, though. ’
  • ’ I remember everyone that leaves. ’
  • ’ You! You’re the cause of all this. ’
  • ’ This is my family. I found it all on my own. Is little, and broken, but still good. Ya. Still good. ’
  • ’ Oh, good! My dog found the chainsaw. ’
  • ’ No more caffeine for you. ’
  • ’ Did you lose your job because of me? ' 
  • ’ The managers a vampire. He wanted me to join his legion of the undead. ’
  • ’ Trust me, this isn’t gonna end well. ’
  • ’ I’m sorry I bit you. And pulled your hair. And punched you in the face. ’
  • ’ GIve us a sign you understand any of this. ’
  • ’ Show us that there is something inside you that is good. ’
  • ’ I didn’t teach him that. ’
  • ’ Come on, what’s the big deal? ’
  • ’ Leave my mother out of this. ’
  • ’ You are such a pain. ’
  • ’ Then why don’t you sell me and buy me a rabbit instead? ’
  • ’ I hate it when you use Ohana against me. ’
  • ’ I’m lost. ’
  • ’ Don’t interact with her. ’
  • ’ Oh, we can’t do that. Uh-uh. That would be a misuse of resources. ’
  • ’ Why do you act so weird? ’
  • ’ You look familiar. ’
  • ’ We’re a broken family, aren’t we? ’
  • ’ I shouldn’t have yelled at you. ’
  • ’ You are built to destroy. You can never belong. ’
  • ’ We need something that can defend itself. Something that won’t die. ’
  • ’ I hear you cry at night. ’
  • ’ Do you dream about them? ’
  • ’ You came back. ’
  • ’ Nobody gets left behind. ’
  • ’ I need someone to be my friend. Someone who won’t run away. ' 
  • ’ His destructive programming is taking effect. ’
  • ’ Did you ever kill anyone? ’
  • ’ Are you.. happy? ’
  • ’ I am the one they call when things go wrong and things have, indeed, gone wrong. ’
  • ’ Our family’s little now, and we don’t have many toys. ’
  • ‘ If you want, you could be a part of our family. ’
  • ’ We’d raise you to be good. ’
  • ’ She likes your butt and fancy hair. ’
  • ’ I read her diary. ’
  • ’ Not guilty! My experiments are only theoretical, and completely within legal boundaries. ’
  • ’ He was designed to be a monster, but now he has nothing to destroy. ’
  • ’ I never gave him a greater purpose. ’
  • ’ What must it be like to have nothing, not even memories to look back on in the middle of the night? ’
  • ’ If you promise not to fight anymore, I promise not to yell at you, except on special occasions. ’
  • ’ Stupid head. ’
  • ’ Did you catch fire again? ’
  • ’ This is your badness level. It’s unusually high for someone your size. We have to fix that. ’
  • ’ Don’t leave me, okay? ’
  • ’ Do you want to be taken away? ’
  • ’ You’re just jealous 'cause I’m pretty! ’
  • ’ My friends need to be punished. ’
  • ’ Heard you lost your job. ’
  • ’ Thus far you have been adrift in the sheltered harbor of my patience. ' 
  • ‘ After all you’ve put me through, you expect me to help you just like that? ’
  • ’ He’s very persuasive. ' 
  • ’ I know you had something to do with this. ’
  • ’ Oh, good! I was hoping to add theft, endangerment and insanity to my list of things I did today. ’
  • ’ I prefer to be called evil genius. ’
  • ’ You smell like a lawn mower. ’
  • ’ I have just determined the situation to be far too hazardous! ’
  • ’ Don’t worry. I won’t hit her. ’
  • ’ This is low even for you! ’
  • ’ You are all mine. ’
  • ’ You know I have no choice. ’
  • ‘  Please don’t do this. ’
  • ’ You’re making this harder than it needs to be. ’
  • ’ She needs me. ’
  • ’ Leave me alone to die. ’
  • ’ What is that monstrosity? ’
  • ’ Does this look infected to you? ’
  • ’ You’d better not have rabies. ’
  • ’ Hiding behind your little friend won’t work anymore. ’
  • ’ Didn’t I tell you? We got fired this morning. ’
  • ’ That is the ugliest thing I have ever saw! ’
  • ’ It has no place among us. ’
10

Aqours Mermaids!

Okay, another of these humans-in-space things:

Just imagine: What if all aliens were completely colourblind (maybe this has another evolutionary advantage, i.e. better night vision, or they simply didn’t need it on their planet)? So far, humans are the first species anyone has ever encountered that has such a thing as colour vision, which confuses the hell out of the aliens.

And the humans? Suffer!

Because everything. Is. Absolutely. Hideous!

I mean, because they can’t see them, everyone wears the ugliest colour combinations ever! Everything they’ve ever built might have nice and fancy shapes, but it still looks horrid.

Just imagine that poor human crewmember walking to their post on the brisge for the first time, only to find that the walls and ceiling are fucking neon yellow! And all the chairs are either olive green or purple, no one else can tell the difference. And maybe there are some turquoise highlights.

(The captain standing in the middle in his hot pink and crimson striped uniform doesn’t improve matters at all.)

The human groans and looks like they just want to turn around and run away (not that the rest of the ship looks any better). The aliens are confused.

“What’s wrong, human? Are you sick?”

“No, but I will be soon, if I keep looking at this. The colours…!”

“The what?!”

A few weeks later, the ship is safely docked in a space station and everyone is enjoying their shore leave. Well, everyone except the human, because they’re busy repainting the entire bridge because those colours definitely count as a hazardous work environment.

So the captain and first officer come back early to find their human still doing that, now covered in paint which has the exact shade of light grey the bridge previously had. For the aliens there is no visible difference.

“Sorry Captain, I promise I’m almost done!”

The captain just sighs and shakes xir head. Sometimes it’s better to let humans just do whatever it is they’re doing. Trying to understand them would be pointless.

(From that day on, the human is a lot more relaxed during their shift.)

Viktor and Yuuri are a blame-it-on-the-dog couple.

As usual, it works one of two ways.

Someone farts and no one wants to cop to it.

“Must have been Makkachin,” Yuuri says, not even looking up from his phone. Makkachin is in the kitchen and hasn’t left in ten minutes.

“What have we been feeding you Makkachin?” Viktor asks, and Makkachin hops into the room with tongue lolling and ears aflutter. Viktor rubs him behind the ears and coos, “What a smelly dog,” while side-eyeing Yuuri with a smirk. Yuuri kicks him.

On the other hand:

“Do you like this shirt?” Yuuri asks, standing in front of the mirror. It’s a sweater of a not entirely flattering yellow color, and about a size too big. It’s also made with some kind of speckled yarn that makes it look almost flea bitten. “My mother sent it to me. She said one of the ladies in town knitted it for me, which is sweet, but I just…I think it makes me look weird?”

“Well, as you know darling, I think you look good in everything.” Viktor crosses his ankles and clucks his tongue for Makkachin; Makka hops up onto the bed and curls up over Viktor’s knees. “But oh, what’s that Makkachin? You think that shirt makes Yuuri look like a molting canary? That’s so rude, Makkachin.” 

Yuuri exaggerates a gasp. “That’s so mean, Makkachin! You mean you don’t like this sweater that Tanaka-san made me out of the goodness of her heart because she’s worried I’ll freeze to death in Russia? How could you!”

“That’s no way to talk to one of your fathers,” Viktor says, rubbing Makkachin behind the ears. ‘What’s that? You’d rather see Yuuri in that awful blue necktie than this sweater? Makkachin!”

Yuuri crosses the room and kisses Makkachin’s muzzle. “Shh, he’s whispering something to me. What? Oh, okay. Makkachin wants me to tell you that he thinks you’re a fashion snob.” Yuuri crawls onto the bed and straddles Viktor’s thighs, brushes the hair away from his face, and kisses his nose. “Isn’t that the meanest thing you’ve ever heard? Your dog is a bully.”

“Oh, so he’s my dog right now?” Viktor mumbles against Yuuri’s cheek, kissing noisily.

“Yes? He’s your dog when he says mean things and he’s my dog when he says nice things.”

Viktor leans around Yuuri’s shoulder and pats Makkachin’s head again, then moves his hands up underneath Yuuri’s sweater. “Makkachin says you should just take the ugly sweater off.”

Yuuri laughs and tilts his head back, lets Viktor nuzzle his face there. “I think Makkachin should leave the bedroom, now.”

Viktor bounces his knees to get Makkachin off the bed, rolls Yuuri over and physically removes the sweater himself.

Yuuri finds it at the back of their closet months later, during a round of spring cleaning.

“Makkachin says that it’s still the ugliest sweater he’s ever seen,” Viktor tells him, and gets swat with it in the face with it for his trouble.

I’ve come to a point in my life where “I love you” just doesn’t have the same meaning as it used to before. Sure, you can love me. You can fall in love with my eyes, with the way I tuck my hair behind my ears, with the way the sunshine hits the color of my skin. You can love me in a hundred and one different ways but it wouldn’t mean anything if you don’t choose me. So yes, you could tell me you love me and my heart will skip a beat and I’ll have butterflies in my tummy and I will feel the earth shake on my feet - I will feel so happy, my heart could burst out of my chest… but it simply just won’t be enough anymore.

So this is what I need from you:

Tell me you choose me. When I’m slumped on the floor ridden with guilt and grief from everything that has ever and will ever hurt me - hold me and tell me you choose me. When I’m pushing you away, when my fists are up and the ugliest of things come out from this mouth you proclaim to love - say you choose me anyway. When I’m broken, when you can’t fix me, when no amount of I love you’s in the world can assuage my pain - please, hold my face, shake me a little, say, “look at me, I choose you, okay?”

You can tell me you love me. You can shout it to the world. You can say it to me a million times and it will be what I want to hear. But telling me, “I choose you” - darling, that’s all I will ever need.

—  Tell me you choose me // Genefe Navilon