Making a dick joke was a strategic error. You put the subject on the metaphorical table. You're now thinking about troll dick.

Your afterlife groove thing is being visited by an underage crossdressing alien. Okay.

Dirk laughs, presses his lips to the sweat-drenched nape of your neck, lets his teeth scrape the skin. "Don't worry, babe, I'm not going to leave you hanging. I've got something special for you. Get up."

Dave nods. "Most of the inhabitants of this sorry rock," he confides, "cry themselves to sleep at night at the knowledge that you beat them to the incomparable prize of Dave Strider's undivided affections." There's not enough irony left in this poor depleted universe to sustain statements like that very often, so he kisses Tavros again before he can talk himself into actual sincere confession time.

Having an alien boyfriend is a little like an adventure and a little like a science experiment. Fortunately for you (and for your alien boyfriend), those are both things you really like.

It's not a glamorous job, but you can set your own hours, the pay rate is good now that you know what you're doing, and it leaves you with enough free time to enjoy your hobbies. You like to think you're doing pretty well for yourself.

You sit down in your computer chair and try not to squirm or shiver too much when she brushes your hair back from your earflap. You've never had anything pierced, and you think it probably can't be worse than getting injured during the game, but it's hard to relax all the same. You weren't just sitting and waiting to get hurt then. "Aight," Meenah says. "Let's get this shoal on the road." "Do it," you say. You close your eyes.

"Whatever nasty ideas I just gave you, go for it. I'm your kinky alien sex toy for the night or whatever," and with Terezi looming over you and Karkat's big hands on you that's suddenly a seriously, intensely possible thing. You are having a vision of the future and it involves a lot of troll junk.