Ovloppy

Finished the book and felt the sudden urge to make this

also yes, he is wearing Ilyukhina's skirt

Individual strips under the cut:

Do you think there came a time when he realized he couldn’t clearly recall the faces of anyone he’d known on Earth and knew with a haunting certainty that it wasn’t from the amnesia drug?

Do you think there were times when he would stare up at the simulated night sky of his biodome and think about how he’d never see the constellations he grew up with again?

Do you think there were days it got to him? The enormity of the distance between him and any other human in the universe?

Do you think he ever compared himself to point Nemo? It’s the farthest away anyone can get from any landmass on Earth, it feels laughable from Erid.

Do you think there were times where he’d miss his own species so badly it burned?

Do you think Rocky ever watched Grace, surrounded by Eridians who loved him, yet painfully isolated in a way no other creature has ever been?

Do you think Rocky ever thought about his decades drifting in Tau Ceti’s solar system and the aching loneliness he felt being the lone survivor of a dead ship?

Do you think there came a day where he looked at Grace and realized that Grace had spent a longer time proportional to his lifetime alone than Rocky did?

Do you think Rocky ever thought about their time on the Hail Mary? Not just the adventure and danger and ‘saving the universe’ parts, but the way Grace’s frigidly cold (to an Eridian) body would press against the outside of Rocky’s xenonite and Rocky would press back like a dying creature just for the contact that was never enough?

Do you think Rocky ever reminisced about how he felt landing back on Erid and feeling another warm carapace against his for the first time in decades?

Do you think he thought back to the relief of feeling his own atmosphere pressing down on him and the lovely resonance of another Eridian’s voice ratting through his body?

Do you think it eats at him? The guilt? The same guilt he’d felt every day during the return trip that he’d retreat in private to eat another one of his endless Eridian rations while Grace starved?

Do you think that Rocky’s sleep cycles are disrupted because he stays up wondering if he damned his best friend by bringing him to Erid?

and then thinking about all the people who call her cold or uncaring or clinical about what she has to do to save earth. eva stratt, who had silly t-shirts and vodka and favorite meals stored in the Hail Mary and treated with the same level of importance as the finely tuned equipment and the centrifuge the entire planet relies on for salvation.

and then thinking about eva stratt nodding and saying, “yeah, I’m pretty awful. that’s why i’m in charge” with a neutral expression and even believing it. as if crafting the most beautiful coffin and homage to her soon-to-be dead friends won’t haunt her always.

thinking about eva stratt being the first person on the “eva stratt is a monster” train, welcoming ryland grace aboard and knowing she believed in him more than anyone else.

Doctor Ryland -Lost-In-The-Vacuum-Of-Space-On-Hour-37-Of-No-Sleep- Grace who did not swear one time at all should get to say cuss words sometimes

Tho it’s funnier that he doesn’t

Who gave this guy a doctorate

Jesper sometimes ( a lot of the time) talks too fast, so when he starts to, Wylan kisses his cheek and tells him to slow down

Jesper reads to Wylan, and now he just does it out of habit because it also helps him talk slower, process words better, and have other people understand what he's saying easier

Wylan once thought about asking a Tailor to do something different with his hair and Jesper literally got on his knees and begged him not to

Jesper stares. Lovingly.

Wylan stares. Also lovingly.

Both stare when they think the other isn't looking.

I am in elementary school. I have discovered something in myself that is different from my peers. I have no words to express this feeling, so I instead live in discomfort for years and years and believe it to be normal.

I am in seventh grade. I have lost my entire friend group because a rumor was spread that because I am queer, I must be a creep. My last sleepover with those friends was spent sitting in the same room as them while they texted each other talking shit about me.

I am in seventh grade. I have endured homophobic bullying from snarky comments to food being thrown at me in the cafeteria, and today finally swing back. I get one of the bullies on the floor and the teacher breaks us up. I get in trouble for fighting while she continues to bully me. Nothing is done about the bullying when I speak up about it.

I am in seventh grade. I am being outed to my entire classroom by the people I share a table with. They are walking to every single desk and telling each classmate I am queer. I watch as every head turns to look at me in disgust. I am completely alienated from that class and spend my days working alone.

I am fourteen or fifteen. The discomfort I have lived with my entire life finally has a name: dysphoria. I have come out to my family as trans. I am in my room alone on my birthday, crying because every card has "girl" on it.

I am fourteen or fifteen. I get a tone with a family member because I am tired of her excuses for continuously misgendering me. Her husband corners me outside and threatens to hit me if I ever talk back to her again, and tells me my identity is made up. My family sides with him.

I am fifteen and sixteen. I wish I could die instead of living in stagnancy.

I am seventeen. My country is passing law after law to restrict my community. Trans people are going missing and being murdered, and their lights are snuffed without so much as a whimper. I am disgusted and afraid and grieving alongside my trans brothers, sisters, and siblings.

I am twenty. I do not speak to much of my family anymore, my mother has only ever called me my birth name, and I have lost every single friend I ever had except one, and had to rebuild myself and my circle from the ground up. Family holidays are hollow. I have self harm scars permanently etched on my skin, purple half-moons under my eyes that are like stains at this point, and I will never forget how I have been treated and what I have endured. My heart breaks knowing millions out there experience the same things and worse.

I am twenty. I am crying in my boyfriend's arms about not feeling like a real man. I am hearing him reassure me that he sees me for me and he loves me as the man I am. My small friend group strictly calls me by my chosen name and pronouns. I am in love, I have more support than ever, and for once, I'm starting to feel glad I'm alive, glad that I held on. For once, I have hope.

“I cried so hard during the exam, my professor had to call me in so I would identify letters for him that he couldn’t read anymore.”

(whispered aggressively halfway through a 90min linguistics lecture) “What fucking class is this? This isn’t biochem!”

“Who brought their dog to the lecture and why is it loose?” “Oh, Emma belongs to the head of the cultural sciences faculty. She likes to explore while her mom is lecturing.”

“This class literally makes me want to send a pipe bomb to the faculty.” (said right outside the lecture hall blocking the door, with their prof standing right behind them, trying to pass)

“I almost wrote ‘do you even read this’ into my paper because there is no way he sends all of us feedback that quick.” “Did you?” “No, I’m scared. What if he does correct all of our work that quick and that’s how I find out I just work astronomically slow??”

“Hello class. Across the hallway over there is my office where my son is currently being babysat through zoom by my mother. If you happen to see chaos while my back is turned, please let me know.”

“How would you like to receive feedback on your work? In person, per email…?” “I would prefer not to get any feedback.”

*student reads explicit buffy fanfiction to the class for their presentation on vampire depictions in pop culture while the chronically offline prof in the back furiously takes notes and looks genuinely awed*