HELLO! My name is Fawn, and I’m a severely under-qualified writer. LMAO.
I mostly write tickle fics, but sometimes I write other stuff too.
Fandoms: Project Hail Mary, TMA/P, Malevolent, Sherlock Holmes
Currently focusing on: Project Hail Mary
Age: 22
Pronouns: She/They
Requests/Asks: ALWAYS open :)
- SFW Blog -
Find my work below the cut!
FanFiction:
- Project Hail Mary:
❀ Worst Aid - Lee!Grace, Ler!Armando
Ryland sustains a minor injury, due mostly to his own clumsiness. As Armando tends to him, Rocky gets a crash course on just how sensitive the human nervous system is.
❀ Bakin’ Biscuits - Lee!Grace, Ler!Rocky
Rocky is allowed on the bed to supervise Grace while he sleeps, which is closer than he's ever been. With the new proximity comes a new Eridian habit that Grace hasn't yet encountered.
❀ Loosen Up! - Switch!Stratt, Switch!Grace
Long after the rest of the Hail Mary team has gone to sleep, Atratt and Grace find themselves unable to sleep, wired, tired, and in need of distraction from the stress of the most important mission in history.For however brief a time.
❀ Hold Still! - [BloodyMary] Lee!Simon (Iron Lung), Ler!Grace
It's been about a week now since Simon found himself aboard The Hail Mary in quite possibly the worst and weirdest Ryland had ever seen a human in. Now that he's settled, it's time for a checkup!
❀ Live Demonstrieren - Lee!Grace, Ler!Roxky and Pebbles
Today, Grace's class focuses on the differences between human and Eridian anatomy, with Rocky as a special guest teacher. Naturally, when the ever fascinating topic of the nervous system is covered, the pebbles have a hard time wrapping their minds around particular human responses to touch.
Grace finds Simon staring out at the stars, and finds himself not only explaining the marvels of our universe to him, and learning a bit about Simon’s home universe as well. When the conversation takes a bleak turn, a mutual cheer-up naturally follows.
❀ The Agreement - [BloodyMary] Lee!Grace (PHM) Ler!Simon (Iron Lung)
 Grace points out something about Simon that he'd love to hear more of, And Simon points out something about Grace that he's sick and tired of. An agreement is achieved!
Despite constant reminders, Grace cannot seem to remember to fix his posture when he sits. Just as Simon predicts, his back starts to hurt because of it...
❀ Pebble-Sitting - Lee/Ler!Pebbles Lee/Ler!Grace
Grace is tasked with taking care of three pebbles for the afternoon, despite not being the world’s most confident babysitter.
Grace has a bit of a habit of rambling on about the things he enjoys. He becomes self conscious when he believes Simon is annoyed by him, and decides to stifle himself for Simon’s benefit.
❀ Tap Out! - Lee!Grace Ler!Stratt
Grace is bored, and just a little bit tipsy. Instead of going to sleep or doing ANYTHING else, he decides to bother Stratt to entertain himself. She’s thrilled…
Grace has been withholding a personal science project from Simon, knowing that if he were to find out about it, he would not be happy. Simon finds out about it, and is not happy...
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You guys voted for Grace’s day to be ruined, so here you go. Simon will have his day too at some point, so if you voted Simon, don’t lose hope. Please forgive my proofreading once again, my glasses are still MIA…..
I got big ideas for him fr….
Anyway, this one is pretty rough at the start, but it mellows out pretty quick, dw. PLEASE heed the warnings tho. OKAY LETS. GET IIIITTTT.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Lee!Grace (PHM) Ler!Simon (Iron Lung)
TW: Descriptions of a panic attack, mentions/description of self harm [picking/scratching skin], blood, feelings and talk of low self worth/inadequacy, heavy survivor’s guilt
❦ Grace is struck with the debilitating fear that he hasn’t done enough, and could possibly be responsible for the detriment of Earth, and struggles with the guilt. Simon reassures him, and keeps him company, just to keep an eye on him in the wake of a panic attack.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
There is no way to know if all my work paid off, and that fact has lost me countless nights of sleep.
There is no way for me to know that those Beatles made it back to Earth intact, that the taumoebas survived the journey, let alone reentry, or that Earth wasn’t already empty by the time they got back.
It’s a possibility that I had convinced myself I needed to accept. Something I knew even Stratt considered a likely outcome. Utter failure.
Why else would she name the mission “Hail Mary”?
But I am terrified. I risked my life to make sure my planet had a fighting chance at survival.
What if it was all for nothing…
I gripped my arms tightly, nails digging into the skin, with something slick beneath my curled, clawed fingers I couldn’t see in the dark on my right arm.
Every drumming beat of my heart felt like rhythmic punches to my chest, making me wheeze and gasp.
Breathing was merely a motor function - not purposeful or productive. A machine instinct to keep air in my lungs, though no matter how hard my body pushed, hardly anything made it in.
Dizziness.
My extremities tingled as the blood in my body collected around my vitals, leaving my arms and legs feeling cold, heavy, and numb.
I know I have to breathe, but it hurts. Every breath feels like I’ve just come up from underwater.
I deserve nothing more.
“Everyone’s gone…”
I mutter to myself. My voice, if you could even call it that, was no more than a whining squeak.
“Everyone. Eva’s gone… Dimitri’s gone… Carl, your students- they’re gone. They’re doomed to freeze a-and starve, and die and it’s my fault. It’s my fault! it’s my fault-!”
My voice cracks, the harshest words I’ve ever spoken to myself are nothing but a whimper.
“I’m a coward. A coward. I wouldn’t have done ANY of this if Eva hadn’t forced me. What the hell makes me so special? What makes ME with being the lone survivor of the ice age I didn’t even want to help prevent…”
My grip tightens on my arms, a stinging, staticky pain on my right flared in rapid pulses, but I ignore it still.
“I’m not a hero…” I begin to cry. “I’m not a hero… I’m not a hero… I hope they don’t think I am…”
I hang my head, glasses tumbling off my face. Heavy, heaving sobs lurch from my chest as I sit in the tiny, dark bathroom.
It’s cold, it’s pitch black, and I couldn’t convince myself I deserved anything more at the time. My punishment. Death would be too merciful.
My body shakes, but not from the cold.
Breathing becomes difficult, shallow and erratic.
“Grace!”
There’s a voice… I can’t bring myself to look up.
“Grace!”
“Get away from me.” I wheeze, head still hung, knees to my chest.
“Are you- Grace what’s going on?”
I don’t reply, hoping he’ll leave.
“Ryland Grace, can you hear me?”
“Go AWAY.”
“No, look at me.” The voice is insistent.
I only sob in reply.
“Grace, it’s me, it’s Simon. What’s happening? Can you please look up at me?”
“NoooOOO! LEAVE ME ALONE!” I cry out, pressing my back to the wall as hard as I can.
I hear soft footsteps approach me, slowly, like you would a scared animal.
“Grace, you’re scaring me…”
“Simon… go away…”
“No! Stop telling me to leave, I’m not moving! You think I’m leaving you alone like this? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind! I could hear you crying from the observation deck!” I pick up the irritation in his voice, but he was making an effort not to shout at me.
I shake my head slowly, sniffling and breathing heavy.
There’s a quiet click as Simon turns on the bathroom light, casting the room in a dim, whiteish orange glow.
“Oh Jesus- fuck, Ryland!” Simon hisses, taking a shaky breath, before dropping down in front of me.
“You’re bleeding. Shit- damnit, Gracie, you’re bleeding, where is that coming from?!”
It sounds like there’s a lump in Simon’s throat. Oh- he’s afraid of blood…
I shoot up, staring at him with wide, puffy eyes.
“I-I’m sorry-! I didn’t know! I- I can’t feel…” my words are breathy and quiet, but urgent. “I— I’ll take care of it, go- go back upstairs!”
“NO. Give me your hands.” Simon demands.
He sits on the floor in front of me, extending both hands out to me.
“Now, Ryland, I’m serious.”
I hesitate for a long time, and Simon waits patiently.
Finally, I weakly put both my hands in Simon’s, and he pulls my arms out straight.
“There it is- Gracie, you’ve picked straight through Rocky’s paw print scar on your arm.”
The source was hard to see through blurred vision, but my forearm was painted red, along with the opposite hand’s fingers, and some of my, thankfully, red shirt.
“I- I didn’t… I didn’t realize…”
“I know, you do this when you’re anxious, you pick, and you pick, and you pick. Never like this though.” Simon sighs.
He looks around for a moment, I say nothing.
Quickly, he yanks a wad of toilet paper from the wall, and slips the headband he’s wearing off his head, fashioning a crude gauze and bandage around my arm, trying his best not to focus on the blood.
I wince as he pulls the knot tight.
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s not severe, but I have to make sure the bandage stays secure.”
“Y-your headband…”
“It can be washed. We have peroxide.”
Simon finishes his work, sighing as he releases my arm.
“I’m so sorry…”
“Why are you apologizing?”
“I’m sorry…”
“Grace, stop.”
My voice begins to shake, and I can feel another wave of guilt, sending me to tears. Now I’ve involved Simon. I’ve worried him, scared him…
I shake my head, trying to will the words out that are stuck in the back of my throat, but all that comes out is a dry heave, and a sputtered sob.
Simon sighs, bringing himself closer to me. He waits a moment, before gently taking me by the shoulders, and pulling me into him.
I don’t protest, falling into Simon’s chest, arms wrapped tight around him, clutching his sweatshirt as though it were the only thing between me and oblivion, which for all I know could be true.
“It’s alright, you’re alright. You’re alive, you’re safe, and I’m here. You’re not alone.” Simon begins to rock from side to side, gently tracing a hand up and down my back as he tries to put me at ease.
I shake my head against Simon’s chest. “No… no… nonono…”
“No what, Gracie? Use your words.”
“Nonono, no! What if I messed it all up?!”
“Messed what up?”
“You haven’t messed anything up… and if you have, I’m sure we can fix it.”
“You don’t… know that. How do you k ow I’ve done everything right?”
Simon pulls back, looking down at me, brows furrowed in confusion. “What’re you talking about?”
“I- I went through the motions- I did what I had to…”
“Okay… for what?”
“But how could you possibly know it was all correct? W-what if something happened?! What if I did something wrong?!” I sob, almost pleading with Simon.
“What if I did something wrong with the probes- o-or the breeder tanks, and because of me, everyone is gonna die?!”
“Hey, hey-“
“What if it’s my fault humanity is gone?! Wh- what if I’m a murderer…? They said I’d be remembered as a hero, but that’s not- that’s not true!”
“Grace-!”
“I’M A MURDERER, SIMON. EVERYONE COULD BE GONE AND IT’S MY FAULT.” I shout, my entire body tensing as I use every ounce of strength to scream.”
“No., that isn’t true”
“I’m a murdererrRRR. Why should I get to survive when everyone else is on the green mile?!WHY AM I STILL HERE?!”
“HEY. Do not say that. That’s a horrible thing to say. You deserve to be here, and you’re not gonna say otherwise. I don’t fuckin like hearing you talk like that.”
“People have been condemned for far less…” I mutter.
“Enough. That’s enough, Gracie. You’re getting in your own head.” Simon gives me a sharp squeeze, bringing me back to focus.
“Listen to me. You have gone places, done things, experiences and survived things that no human ever has.” His voice is soft and quiet.
“Impossible odds, even more impossible decisions, and here you are, still alive, and still well. That counts for something. That means something.”
Simon brings a hand to my hair, brushing through it lazily.
“And neither of us are naive, or idiots. We know there’s always a nonzero chance of something happening, but what matters is that you have done everything and more in your power to make sure your planet survives. And that’s all anyone can reasonably ask of you. No one is gonna blame you personally on the off chance something goes wrong. You’ve done your part.”
I say nothing in reply.
“And don’t give me the bullshit of “I’m not a hero”, either. You realize you’re the lone savior of Earth, Erid, and me, right?”
Simon pushes me back just far enough to get a look at my face.
“Why else would I call you my angel, if not for the fact that you saved my life? You nearly crashed your ship taking a chance on a distress signal from a moon you didn’t even have charted on your system, all to potentially help something in need. and you brought me aboard, showed me patience through my distrust and anger, care for my injuries, and compassion towards my past, my mutations, and every bit of baggage I dragged in with me. You saved my life. If nothing else, then selfishly, you’re my hero.”
I let out a whining sob, collapsing back into Simon. He tightens his hold on me, resting his chin on the top of my head.
“I owe you my life, and I’ll spend every minute of the rest of it making sure you know just how much you’ve done and sacrificed for me, and the two planets you and Rocky saved.” I can feel the vibration of his words through my skull, and I nod slowly.
“Can you sit up and look at me, Angel?” Simon asks, coaxing me up again.
Reluctantly, I sit up, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, and looking up at Simon.
“You are humanity’s, Erid’s and my hero, Ryland Grace.”
I take a breath, still a little shaky, but nothing like before. I shift to sit on my knees in front of Simon, and pull him into a hug, arms wrapped tight around his neck. He doesn’t miss a beat, returning the hug with equal strength, the both of us holding each other as if we’d never see one another again.
“Thank you, Simon- I- I’m… I’m so happy I found you.”
He chuckles softly, nodding against my shoulder.
“I’m glad you found me too, I would t be here if-“
“I love you.”
The words are put before I even know it. Silence follows.
“I- I’m sorry, I don’t mean-“
Simon shakes his head.
“No, no. It’s alright… I love you too.” He chuckles, squeezing me tighter. He pulls back slightly, tipping my head down, and planting a quick kiss on the top of it. “I love you more than you know.”
The words aren’t as heavy and burdening as they’ve felt for me in the past. There was something different about how Simon said it.
The moment I loosen my grip, Simon Dows the same.
I sit up, my cheeks a bit red. I take a deep breath, sitting back against the wall.
“Do you feel better?”
“I think so.”
“You think so? Or you know so.”
“I’m… retry sure so.” I sniffle, shrugging.
“I’ll accept that answer.” Simon nods, sitting crisscross in front of me.
“What brought this on? Bad dream? Did you see something?”
“I dunno. I couldn’t sleep all night, and my mind just…”
“Started wandering.”
“Yeah.”
“So you’ve been up all night, then? That’s why you look so exhausted.”
I nod, thumbing the bandage on my arm with the opposite hand. Yeah…”
“Why didn’t you come up to the observation deck? I could have kept you company.”
“I- I didn’t want to wake you- I know you have trouble sleeping too…”
“Ohhh bullshit, you know you don’t have to worry about that.” He rolls his eyes.
“I know, but-“
“Anything my Saving Grace needs is within reach, if I can help it.” Simon says dramatically.
“Come on- don’t call me that.”
“I am ever at your service.”
“Ugh, stop that!” I scrunch my nose at Simon, cringing at the display, unable to help bit smile.
“Oh! Look at that, we got a smile!” Simon teases, flicking me on the nose.
“Simon!” I shove his hand away
“Fine, Fine, but I mean it, if you feel your mind starting t wander, please come find me. I’ve always got time.”
“I appreciate it. S-same to you, of course.” I try not to make it sound like an afterthought. It isn’t, it’s just hard to articulate at the moment.
Simon gives me a smile, before standing up with a groan. “C’mon. Grab your pillow and quilt.”
He nods towards the door of the tiny bathroom.
“What? Why?”
“You’re sleeping over at mine tonight.” He crosses his arms.
“In the observation deck?”
“Yeah, I cannot in good conscience leave you alone down here tonight, so you’re coming upstairs. Rocky’s sleeping up by the deck tonight too. He finally trusts me enough to sleep by me. I’ll be all of us.” He smiles.
I remain on the floor, staring up at him, trying to hide the smile on my face.
“You’re excited, I cannot see you smiling.”
“Whatever.”
“I’ve got eyes, Gracie- not good ones, but I can still see. Here, I’ll take up your stuff, you clean up, change into something that’s not covered in blood, sweat and tears, and meet me upstairs, ok?”
I look down at my shirt, sighing. It was in pretty rough shape.
“Alright.”
Simon nods.
“I’ll see you in a bit, then.”” Simon says, before rather discreetly taking the clippers from the shelf above the sink, and pocketing them as he leaves the bathroom.
I sigh. I know why he took them, and part of me hates myself for making him distrust me. The rest of me appreciates the concern.
-
I find a pair of shorts, like basketball shorts, but softer, and a sweatshirt that I rarely wore - black, with the NASA ‘worm’ style logo branded on the front in stark white. I roll the sleeves up over my forearms, deciding this was good enough as anything.
-
I ascended the ladder, crawling out of the dormitory. The observation deck was straight down the long hallway, and I could see the light of the stars from where I stood.
Since we converted the observation window to Simon’s “room”, it had taken on a life of its own. Rocky built a suspended platform for his mattress, with room on either side for personal items, like books from around the ship, rolled up charts, and notebooks. The rounded walls held a few shelves with more books, a small box Rocky built to hold Simon’s amulet if he ever took it off for any reason, and a crudely made origami plant that I made for him a few months back. He even kept it under a UV grow light.
I approach the platform, stepping up, and plopping down beside Simon. He had my quilt and pillow laid on the opposite side of the bed from where he typically sleeps.
“Looks a Lot more comfortable.” He gestures to my sweater.
“Yeah, it is.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen that one before.”
“I don’t wear it a whole lot- I’m still getting over the uh- the whole ‘wearing merch for the company that sent me out to die’ thing.” I shrug.
Simon chuckles. “That’s fair, I definitely wouldn’t wear a COI t-shirt.” We both snicker.
“Oh- you changed your bandages too.” Simon points down to my arm.
“Yeah, I had Armando wrap it up really quick. Linda tight, but that’s alright.” I lift my arm, looking down at the cleanly wrapped gauze. “Oh, and I promise, I promise I’ll wash your headband for you- I already hit it with some hydrogen peroxide.”
“Don’t sweat it, I’ll be fine.” Simon shakes his head.
I sigh, lying back on the bed.
…
“Can I ask you something?l Simon looks down at me, his voice sounding heavier than it had a moment ago.
“Sure.”
He takes a moment, arranging his sentence in his brain like scrabble tiles.
“You don’t… uhm… are you- okay?”
“Am I… okay?”
“I mean- I know you were in a tough spot earlier, but you were saying some really concerning things, Ryland…”
“No, no, Simon really, I’m alright. It was the panic talking.”
“That doesn’t just come from nowhere, though. I understand what you mean, but you don’t just say you don’t think you deserve to be here without having that idea cross your mind in the past.”
I’m quiet for a while. He’s absolutely right.
“I promise, it’s not something that I consider as often as it… probably seems… which is probably why it makes me panic- it scares me too- but I swear, I’m alright.”
“Please, utilize me. We’re the only humans around for lightyears - we’ll lose it if we don’t communicate. So please please tallk to me, and bring things like this up to me in the moment so I can help.”
“I will, I promise. I’m sorry.” I sit up on my elbows as I speak.
“I hope you mean it…”
…
“Thank you, by the way.” I say
“Hm?”
“For keeping me company- and making me feel like I’m not Earth’s biggest failure.”
“Anytime. I’m glad I got to you in time.”
I hum in reply. Im glad too.
A moment of silence passes.
“Oh- I have something for you.”
I turn my to face Simon.
“I was gonna wait to give it to you, but this is as good a time as any…”
He turns to the shelf on the wall, grabbing a roughly wrapped object, concealed in notebook paper with “Grace” written in marker on it. It was taped together hastily, like he was fighting with the dispenser in the process.
I chuckle, sitting up and taking the parcel from him, turning it over in my hand. It was about as big as my palm, and relatively light.
“I know, I’m terrible at wrapping things up, but…”
“N-Noho! No, it’s great, Si!” I chuckled, tugging at the twisted tape.
After a bit of struggle I get the thing open, and a thin, dark metal chain slides free onto the quilt beside me. I pick it up, letting it dangle in my hand.
It was a… a pendant… it looked quite similar to Simon’s amulet, a round frame with a clear center. Something was suspended in the clear, glassy center - small, ivory, sharp and curved.
“Wow- this is awesome! What is that? In the center?”
“Don’t freak out.”
“…okay..?”
“It’s a tooth.”
I gasp, staring at Simon for a moment before shouting.
“Simon!! This is your tooth?!”
“No! No, dummy it’s not my tooth, calm down. It’s a tooth that got stuck to my clothes before you rescued me - a fragment of one from the creature in the ocean. I cleaned it, and had Rocky make a pendant to keep it in.”
I sigh. “My god, lead with that.”
“Not as funny that way.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever… this is really cool though, thank you.”
“Now you can wear a reminder of what you saved me from. Now you have no reason to doubt that you’re a hero.”
I’m silent for a long while, clutching the pendant in my hand, staring down at it, before a few tears roll down my face, dropping down into my hand.
“Oh shit, goddamnit, are you alright?!”
Simon puts a hand on my shoulder, concern in his voice all over Gaian.”
“I- I’m okay, I’m okay… sorry, just kinda emotional at the moment. I love it. I’ll never take it off.
“Good, good- I don’t think I can take another scare tonight. Here, give it here.”
Simon extends a hand, and I drop the pendant into it. He moves behind me, lowering the charm over my head and onto my chest, fastening the clasp behind me with a bit of struggle.
I shudder, letting out a stray huff of laughter as his knuckles brush against me.
“Laughing at a man struggling with a prosthetic?”
“Nohoho! No, I’m just- tahahake your time.” I say.
“You’d like that.” Simon mutters, scritching my neck with one finger, making my shoulders shoot up.
“Sihihimon!”
Sorry, sorry. I’ll stop.”
I look down at the necklace. “I don’t- I don’t mind…. You don’t… have to…” I mutter, as Simon moves back over beside me.
“You want me to?”
“W- well I mean…”
I can feel him smiling at me. I continue looking straight ahead.
“Would that make you feel better? If I ticke you? That’s what you’re dancing around asking?” He tilts his head.
“Maybe, I guess…”
“Maybe you guess?”
“C’mon, please don’t make me spell it out, it’s been a long night.” I huff.
“I won’t, I won’t. Just wanna make sure it’s what you want.”
“Yes.”
“Ok, I’ll go easy on you.”
I look over at Simon with an honestly pretty pathetic look.
“You don’t want me to go easy? Angel, I- I don’t want to overwhelm your system- you’ve only just come down from a panic attack, is laughing like a maniac really safe after crying so hard?”
He does raise a valid point, but I can’t find it in myself to care. I needed the pick-me-up.
Simon sighs after I greet him with the same expression..
“Fine, I’ll work up to it. Start slow.” He relents. “Are you gonna come to me, or am o gonna have for grab you myself.”
I smile at him, not moving an inch.
Right… fine, I’ll bite.” He shrugs, lurching at me, grabbing me by the shoulders, and pulling me down onto the quilt.
“Please let me know if you need a break.” Simon says rather sternly as he sidles up to me.
“I will. I’m okay.” I smile.
He nods. Two, uncharacteristically gentle hands find their place against my torso, lightly squeezing and kneading my stomach.
I snort,quietly giggling. “Sihihimon, you don’t have to treat me like I’m made of glahahass!”
“I know that, I’m just being careful.”
“I- I tohoOLD YOu, I’m okay. You’re nohohot gonna hurt me I’m a grown man.”
“Hmoh.”
“What’s thahat supposed to mean?!”
“Nothing.” He pokes me in the navel.
“AaAAH-haha-! If anything, it’ll just tire me out and I’ll finally be able to get some sleep.” I shrug, looking over at Simon.
He sighs. “If it’ll help you sleep…” Simon grumbles. He grabs me, dragging mw up into his lap. His metal arm held me up against his chest at an awkward angle, my arms suspended, and unable to drop. My sweatshirt had ridden up to my stomach in the process, which was precisely the target he struck.
“A-AHAHAHA-HAHAHAA!!” I shriek, feeling a strong hand strumming at my stomach like a guitar.
“Y-YOUR HAND IS SOHOHO COLD-!!”
“Low iron.”
“H-HOHOW IS TBAT EVEN POSSIBLE?!” Simon switches to roughly squeezing the center of my stomach, forcing the muscle to flex.
“It’s not, that was a lie. Wow- have you actually been using the fitness equipment?” Simon chuckles, giving my abdominal muscles a few strong pokes.
“A-AH! AHAHA! WHY IS THANAT SURPRISING, JERK?! OHOHOW!”
Simon stops a ruptly. “Whats wrong? Are you okay?!”
“YEHEhehes! Simon, I’m fihihine!”
“Why the hell did you say ‘ow’ then?!”
“I dunno! I just did!” I shrug as best I can in the suspended position I’m stuck in.
“You’re gonna give me a heart attack. Don’t say that unless you’re actually in pain, dumbass.”
“You’re so jumpy!”
“I’m worried about you! God forbid I’m worried!”
“AwwwwWWAAAAHAHAHA-!”
“Shut up!” Simon hisses, digging his knuckles into my ribs, dragging them up and down like a xylophone.
I throw my head back against Simon’s shoulder, cackling probably a bit too close to his ear.
I find myself sliding upward, pushing with my legs, instinctively to move away from Simon’s hand. He grumbles, clearly annoyed with me worming around.
“My god, hold still if you want me to do this!”
Simon takes me under the arms, lifting, and tossing me down into the bed, with enough push to one shoulder to land me on my back.
I land with a muffled thump, looking up at him with a lopsided smile on my face. Simon’s mild annoyance thaws when he looks down at me.
“You tired yet?”
“No, not really.”
He sighs, looking me over.
“The hell is with those socks?”
“What?! What’s wrong with them?!” I shrug.
The Hailart crew stocked my luggage with apparently, very strictly science themed items… shirts, sleepwear, and socks.
There’s no way this was all my wardrobe was back on earth…
This particular pair of socks, I quite liked. They were black, patterned with the line angle formulas of various chemicals. Dopamine, adrenaline, seraronin, and others of the sort.
“Are these constellations? Whats going on?”
“No- they- no they’re not constellations, are you blind?! What constellations look like that?!”
“How would I know?!”
“Oh- haha- r-right.”
“Jerk.”
“They’re skeletal structures of chemicals. They’re diagrams used in chemistry to show the bonds of molecules.”
“Huh…” Simon lifts my right foot up by the ankle. “What’s this one.” He jabs one of the images stitched into the bottom of the sock, and I yelp, jerking my knee back, unable to pry my ankle free.
“AH-! I- I dunno-! I cahahan’t see it!”
“Okay, does this help?” Simon shrugs, tracing a finger along the hexagons and lines of the chemical structure.
“A-ABAHAHA-! SIHIHIIMON-!”
“Do you know it or not? Pay attention.” He huffs, starting over.
Hexagon… two lines protruding from the left, going up left, and down left… GOD this sucks- then a line going up right from the hexagon… Oh!
“ADREHEHENALINE! IT… ITS ADEENALINE.” I shout, grabbing a corner of the quilt and covering my face with it, letting out a gravelly, muffled scream.
“That’s not what it says here. It’s got a bunch of letters and numbers.” Seriously?! The formula?!
Simon retraces the shape again as I struggle to think
“UHUHUJHH- DANGIT!! I- I DUNNOHOHO.”
“Yes you do, Think.”
“UUUURRBHHAHAHAHA OH-! OHOH ITS C- SUB 9, H SUB 13, N O SUB 3.”
“I need the elements, Gracie.” Simon shakes his head, suddenly raking his fingers up and down the bottom of my foot.
“AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA-! OKAHAHAHAY OKAY ALRIHIHIGHT-! PLEHEHEASE! STOP AND I’LL AMSWER- I CAN’T TAKE IT.” I howl, thrashing around like a fish out of water.
Simon stops immedietly, pulling his hand away. “Alright. Go.” He says.
I take a moment to catch my breath before answering.
“You asked!” I throw my hands up. “NO. Nohoho no more of that, that SUCKED.”
I yanked my leg away from Simon as he searched for another chemical to quiz me on.
“You’re done?”
“Just with that.”
Simon chuckles, patting my bent knee. “Okay, fine.” He says, shuffling up to my side. “One more, the. I think it should be lights out.”
“Deal.” I agree, admittedly feeling a bit groggy already.
Simon smiles with the wickedness of a man with a plan.
“Sit up.”
“Huh?”
“Up, Gracie.” He makes a rising motion with his hand.
I stare at him for a moment, a bit confused, but I do as I’m asked, sitting up with my knees still bent.
Simon opens out his arms, gesturing for a hug.
“What?”
“Would you just come here?” He chuckles. “So inquisitive.”
“I’m a-“
“Scientist, yes, so I’ve been told. Cmon.” He become me close with a rotation of the wrist.
Hesitantly, I move closer, accepting the suspicious hug, wrapping my arms around Simon’s neck as I do before, and he closes his arms around me.
“Perfect.” Simon purrs, before tightening his grip like a boa constrictor, both hands digging into the muscle of my back.
“A-AHAHAHAHA-! WHAHHAT?! WHAT THE HECK?!” I shout with stunned disbelief.
Simon chuckles darkly, the sound reverberating through my head as he began to knead and pinch and scratch, and jab all up and down the expanse of my back.
“AAHAHAHAHA-! AAAAAH-!! PLEHEHEASE THIS IS SO NOT FAIR!!”
“Yes it is, this is all at your request, Angel.”
He drives his knuckles into my low back, at the same time, blowing a sharp raspberry onto my neck. I thrash in his iron- or xenonite grip, until finally, I’ve had enough.
I fall limp, and Simon keeps me steady against him.
“That was cruel, y’know that?”
“Again, you asked me to do this. You said it’d make you feel better.”
“Uuurrerrghhj…”
Simon snorts, patting me on the back.
He peels me away from him, holding me at a short distance.
“Do you feel better?”
I nod, fatigue weighing heavy on my eyes. “Yeah, yes, thank you.”
“Anytime, Angel.” Simon nods, squeezing my shoulder gently.
He reaches up, combing a hand tgrough my hair, pushing it out of my face. He looks at me softly, not saying a word.
…What happens next can only be explained by a sleep deprivation induced lapse in judgment. I honestly to god don’t know what came over me in the moment, but in the stillness of the silence, I took a breath, and leaned forward…
I kissed Simon.
I… kissed Simon. I did.
And he kissed me back.
I figured- heck, I expected him to push me back, but he didn’t. Sure he was stunned for a second, but once the shock wore off, he slid a hand behind my neck, the metal one down to my back, and he kissed me back.
Not rough, not vicious or messy… equal, comfortable reciprocation.
I’d hardly ever done this before, and hadn’t the slightest clue what I was doing, but pulled back, with a sharp pain in my lip that I’m pretty sure was y standard for the experience.
Right, the teeth.
“Oh, sorry-“ Simon mutters, looking down at the red stain on my lip.
“No no, it’s alright. It’s fine.”
“It’s bleeding.”
“Yeah I can taste it. It stings…” My voice is quieter now. @Y- you’re not… venomous, are you?”
“I dunno, guess we’ll see.”
“What?!” I tense up.
“Joking, Joking. I’m not venomous. My teeth aren’t hollow like snake teeth.” Simon taps one of the long, sharp teeth with his finger.
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.” He smiles.
I nod, looking to the side.
“Gracie.” Simon tilts his head to catch my eye again. “That didn’t have to mean anything you don’t want it to. You’re drained, and your mind is probably still a little scrambled - don’t worry about it, okay?” He says softly.
Admittedly, a part of me is relieved. I’m really not a relationship guy, let alone a kisser, so I couldn’t begin to imagine the implications a spur of the moment kiss would have on any other person.
I sigh. “Thank you, I- I appreciate it. I don’t know where that came from… W-well it’s not that I didn’t- that I don’t want to… kiss you…”
“Oh? Okay-“ Simon chuckles.
“No! But- I don’t- I just-…” Simon puts a hand up, signaling me to shut up, and I do.
“You don’t need to explain yourself. Don’t hurt yourself, you don’t have to explain.”
“Right… sorry…”
Simon lets out a deep quiet laugh, shaking his head.
I yawn, rolling my eyes.
Simon tips my head down, planting a kiss on the top of my head, like he did earlier.
“Why don’t we stick to that for now? No obligation, Nonthreatening.” He smiles.
“Yeah… yeah okay that sounds good…” I murmur, fading in and out where I sat.
Simon points behind me to my rumpled quilt and pillow. “Lay down. You’re gonna pass out sitting up.”
I mutter something even I can’t remember now, and let myself drop back onto the bed, making the supports rattle with the impact. I had been craving this sleep for dozens of hours, and it was finally within reach.
I hear Simon shuffle over to his side of the mattress, enough room between us maybe for Rocky to fit without his hamster ball. The light on the shelf clicks off, and Simon lays back with a groan only a man thirty years his senior should make.
I short.
“Something funny, Grace?”
I giggle like a kid at a sleepover, whispering - “you sound like an old man.”
“You’re older than I am.”
“But I don’t sound like that when I move around.”
Simon sighs, no longer finding me amusing. I can’t blame him.
“Go to sleep.” He grumbles.
I sigh, rolling over, closing the distance between us.
“Seriously?”
“It’s cold…”
“You chose to wear shorts!” He hisses.
“Okay! And so I’m cold!”
“Will this help you go to sleep?”
“…yes.”
Simon sighs, slinging his arm up and over me, yanking me close, my head between his arm and chest.
“Goodnight.” Simon says, grumbling with exhaustion.
“H’night… love you.” I mutter, my body finally falling limp against Simon’s.
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Trying out a new look for my posts, how we like it, huh? Huh? It’s gonna take a lot more planning on the front end bc having to drag images 30,000 miles to the top of the post when they import is bonkers- WHATEVER.
Anyway, this one’s all fluff, super silly and dumb. I needed a pick me up, it’s been a week fr. Not well proofread, I don’t think… I lost my glasses, so…
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Switch!Simon (Iron Lung) Switch!Grace (PHM)
TW: swearing- it’s literally all Simon…
❦ Simon runs into a problem in the greenhouse, and needs Grace’s help to retrieve a plant that’s, annoyingly, just out of reach for the both of them.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
“Grace!”
I hear my name from across the house.
I’m in the middle of lesson planning, which is something I had, admittedly, been putting off for wife a while, and needed to knock out.
Maybe if I just stay quiet… he’ll think I’m not home… or asleep…
“Grace!” I hear footsteps approaching the bedroom- crap. I really don’t want to get up… what do I do?!
Play dead. Well- play sleep.
“Grace, I know you can hear me this house isn’t that big- …” Simon’s voice stops in the doorway.
“Very convincing. Yeah, your notorious sleeping position, laying like a mummy with an open laptop next to you. Would you get up?”
“How would you know how I sleep?” I grumble.
“I’m sorry, how many times do I have to come in here, so you’re not by yourself after a bad dream, for me to have a pretty good idea of how you sleep?”
“…You can get away with that because I do the same for you, loser.”
“Correct. Up.”
“Fine! Fine. Worte a Shot.”
“A shot in the dark with a blindfold on. Can you please help me? I don’t need you for that long.”
I sigh, lifting both my legs straight up, and using momentum of dropping them back down to sit myself upright, hands still folded over my chest.
“Jesus… Are you done, Dracula?”
“You’re the one with fangs.”
“Don’t start.”
“…Yes, what do you need?” I ask, begrudgingly standing up.
Simon shakes his head, turning to walk out of the room, and I follow close behind.
“I need to get this planter down in the greenhouse, but it’s a million feet in the air.”
“Rocky built that as an automated lift and lower system, didn’t he? You should be able to lower it from the control panel by the neighboring wall.”
“Yeah well, it’s not working. I got it most of the way down, but it jammed at about seven feet up.” Simon sighs.
“Ohhh Rocky’s gonna be mad…” I snicker. “That aside, isn’t there a stepladder in the greenhouse? Or at least one in my office.” I catch up, walking beside Simon now.
“Adrian’s borrowing them.”
“What could they possibly need with a stepladder…”
“Beats me. Point is, I don’t have one.”
I push open the front door of my house, hooking a left.
Rocky and Adrian were kind enough to build Simon a greenhouse in the biodome, and it was conveniently right around the back of my house.
It was… massive. There was enough room in the thing to plant, grow, and keep a thirty foot tree in the central, geodomed cathedral room, with shelving, lighting, and irrigation running all around the room like a botanical penopticon. 
The ground was mostly moss and clover, a lush green space that Simon often liked to read, dwell, and nap on while I was busy teaching.
He always looked so peaceful curled up in the foliage, with the yellow-green light dappling down from the skylights. Every once in a while, I’d join him.
Around the circumference of the cathedral was a metal path, starting from the wall and stretching inward about five feet, offering sturdy footing for more utilitarian activities.
There were a few offshoot rooms as well, used for storage, lab space, and a small, personal gallery room with a collection of some of Simon’s favorite plants he’s grown in the months we’ve been here.
The space in the very center sat empty, a tiered pedaatal of soil dedicated for Simon’s seedling, should he ever want to plant it. We were still working up the courage to separate the seedling from his amulet, but the option was always there.
Simon pushes the doors of the greenhouse open, the thick, humid air hitting me like a wave as we enter the small foyer leading into the central dome.
“Ah! You’ve planted some stuff around the center plot! Looks good!” I smile, walking over to the newly planted foliage, crouching down to have a better look.
“Anything special about these guys?” I ask, gently taking one of the tiny, hearty leaves between my fingers.
“No, not really. Just some sturdy ground cover. Sedum Angelina, is what it’s called. Adrian brought me some new substrate to try out in here, so I figured these succulents would be a safe start.
I nod, standing up. “Cool! Looks pretty. I like the bright green.”
“Thanks.”
“So what plant is it that you so urgently needed my help retrieving?” I put my hands on my hips.
Simon is already a few yards away from me, staring up at an obviously, very out of place shelf of plants, suspended awkwardly by articulated xenonite arms.
“This. It’s jammed, and that sucks, but more urgently, I need that philodendron up there so I can repot it. Its roots are going bad.”
“Uh huh… which one is the philoso-hedron, exactly?”
“…philodendron, ‘Professor’ Grace, and it’s the one to the right of the center.”
I hum in thought, looking around for anything I could use to step on to reach the plant.
“I’ve already looked. There’s nothing.”
“And so then what am I here for?”
“You’re taller, I thought you could get to it.”
“What?! How tall do you think I am?! Better yet how short are you?!”
“I thought you had better wingspan!”
“My arms aren’t that long. Strong, but not long.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
“Ok, I’m gonna go home then.” I cross my arms.
“No! Just- help me think of something!”
I throw my arms up. “That’s so vague! I thought you already had a working idea!”
“No, scientist, that’s why I need you!”
I laugh incredulously, looking up at the plant.
It looks back at me.
“I’ll lift you.” I say with a sigh.
“What? No.”
“I’ve done it before.”
“When?”
“How’d you think you got out of your sardine can and into my medbay, Brinestein? I had to haul your butt across the whole ship!”
“Brinestein is so lame.”
“Whatever, you’re getting lifted.” I rolled my eyes, taking a few steps over to Simon.
“No! What?!”
“You want your phyllo-dungeon or not?!”
“Okay! God- I’ll step up on your hands.” Simon relents, groaning.
“Absolutely not. With all the mud and dirt and icky nonsense you track in my house on those boots? No.”
“I’ll take them off.”
“Even worse, actually. Just let me lift you normally! Like a cheerleader or something!” I chuckle, making a move to take Simon by the waist and hoist him upwards.
He flinches, taking a step back.
“What?!” I laugh, throwing my arms out, half in amusement, half in frustration.
“Don’t just come at me like that! Warn me!”
“Okahahay! 3 2 1 let’s go.” I count down quickly, taking Simon by the waist, and attempting to lift, only for him to gasp, and shove me off, a stupid, goofy half-smile on his face.
“Ohhhhhh brother, are we serious?” I rest my hands on my bent knees, letting my head hang.
“How am I supposed to turn it off?!” He barks out at me.
“Shh, don’t yell around the plants, Simon, they’ll think you’re yelling at them.”
Simon snorts rolling his eyes.
“I don’t know, just- flex your stomach or something. Just brace for it.” I shrug. “It’s gonna tickle regardless, but it’ll be over in two seconds.”
Simon nods.
…
“Ok but turn around and face the Philly-ding-dong so you can grab it.”
“Philodendron-!” He hisses, swiveling on his heels to face the suspended shelf.
“That’s what I said!” I chuckle, stepping right behind Simon. “Ok, ready?” I ask, hands at the ready.
“Yeah, just do it.”
“Ok, one… two.. theee!”
I take Simon again by the waist, just below the ribs, and get him about eight inches off the ground before I hear I sputtering snort, and he wriggles, slipping in my hold.
He falls back into my chest, my arms wrapped around his torso to anchor us both to the ground, the both of us giggling like drunken fools.
“Simon Fisher if you don’t pull it together and let me do this, I’ll give you something to laugh at, and that’s a promise.” I punctuate my joking threat with a pat on the chest, before pushing him up off of me.
“How about I lift you up instead, then asshole?!” Simon scoffs. 
“It’s not my Phil-the Dodo!” I laugh out with a dramatic shrug.
“Fine!! Then- at least lift me from here instead!”
Simon gestures under his arms, like that was somehow a smarter idea.
“…You must be joking.”
“…yeah, I don’t know why I even said that…”
“I don’t know why you say a lot of things. Alright, c’mon. Third times a charm.” I clap my hands, the sound echoing through the dome.
Simon sighs. “Okay… Go.”
I nod, taking hold of him again, lifting Simon up, and…
“AH-! Oof-!”
Simon thrashes, this time knocking us completely off balance, both of us tumbling down into the mossy ground. I held Simon tight to my chest as I took the brunt of the fall, sandwiched between plush moss, and Simon’s entire weight.
“You prihihick! You squeezed me that time!”
“Uuurregh- no I didn’t! You moved, and I readjusted so you’d stay stable!”
“Liar!”
“I’m not lying! It’s not my fault you’ve got gills with ten billion nerve endings in them, so the only place TO lift you up from is your waist!”
“IT WAS YOUR ISEA TO PICK ME UP!”
“YOU ASKED FOR MY HELP!! AND I CAN’T BREATHE!”
“YOURE HOLDING ME LIKE A VICE, IDIOT.”
I snort. “Oh yeah.”
Instead of letting Simon up, I tighten my grip around Simon’s torso, and dig one hand of curled fingers into his stomach, kneading the flesh like dough. The other hand slid over to his side, pinching and skittering over the area rapidly.
“AahHAHAHA- A-AAH! GRAHAHACE!”
I snicker, resting my chin on his shoulder as he struggled. “I told you I’d give you something to laugh about, Giggles!”
“GEHET- OHIHOFF!”
“Why?! Im enjoying my weighted blanket!” I made sure every breath ghosted over Simon’s gills.
“A-AHAHAHA- AH-! JEHEHERK!”
“Oh hush, you’re loving it.” I reach up and give his ribs a few jabs, with a rather childish “pbbft!” Sounds accompanying each one.
“IM NOHOHOT- AHAHA! STOP BREATHING ON MY NECK-!”
“Oh so you want me to suffocate? So mean to me.” I sigh through pursed lips, directing the air at the same spot. My hand travels up from Simon’s side, landing under his arm.
“You’re doing NOTHING to free yourself right now- ew! My lord you’re sweaty-“
I retract my hand from under Simon’s arm, wiping it off annoyingly on his chest.
Simon seizes my moment of weakness, thrashing to the side, and freeing himself from my grip
He rolls onto the moss beside me, and we sit up at the same time. He stares at me, I stare back.
He’s gonna chase me…
“Start running.”
“Yessir.” I mutter.
In the blink of an eye, we both tear off, running like bats out of hell. I clamber up to a stable, steady position, trying not to lose my balance as I run.
I don’t have to look behind me to know Simon’s hot on my trail. He’s much faster than me, but I know how to pivot.
I run about half the circumference of the greenhouse’s central dome’s paved path, and with a squeak of my shoes on the ground, I make a dangerously sudden 180, narrowly missing Simon.
“Ha!” I bark out as I continue back the other way.
Simon growls, adjusting from the disorientation. And following me once again.
With the little bit of time o managed to buy myself, I made the decision to turn into the propagation lab just up ahead, ducking in and taking a moment to assess my surroundings.
I find a large, alien-ish palm in the corner, tucked away among the maze of fronds, vines, and leaves in the lab. Perfect.
As quietly as I can, I scurry behind the massive, metal pot, hiding between it and the wall.
I had to admit, this was actually fun! I hadn’t played silly games like this in years…
“Ryyyyland…”
I hate this, I’m scared, and I’m not having fun. Why is his voice so deep?! It’s like he’s talking with a lion’s growl…
I know Simon’s in here with me, but the lights remain off. Awesome.
“You can’t hide from me in my own lab, Rocketman- I know the layout like the back of my hand.”
‘The one you’re missing?’ Is what I want to say, but I’m too scared to speak.
I hear heavy bootsteps navigating the room, the sound of things being shuffled and maneuvered. I move to peek over the pot to get a better look at where exactly Simon is.
Two red and brown eyes meet my gaze, looming over the pot as I peek over.
“Boo.”
I yelp, moving back, only to be brutally reminded that I chose a spot that locked me into an inescapable corner.
“NOOOO! NO NO SIMON! PleEHEHEASE!” I shriek, laughing nervously as Simon slowly steps around to the side of the pot, standing above me.
“Please what? What’re you begging for? I haven’t even done anything.” He lowers himself down, crouching in front of me.
“PleHEHEASE. Simonohon- you don’t have to do this.”
“I wasn’t planing to originally, but you made the Chase-and-find so fun…”
“W-what are you some kinda wild ahahnimal?!”
“Well- I mean… kinda.” He chuckles, tapping his external tooth with a metallic finger.
Oh my god he just might eat me…
Without another second thought, he lunges at me, knocking me back into the wall, and dragging me down to the floor, holding me there by my shoulders.
“OHOHOW-! Too rough! Jeez!” I complain, not bothering to struggle.
“Ohhh I’m sorry.” He says it in a patronizing tone, but he does take a little bit of weight off of me, but that’s about where the compassion ends, unfortunately.
“AaaAAAAAaaAAAAAAAAAHAHAHA-!!”
“My gid, I’m barely doing anything- my ears are gonna bleed.” Simon groans, slipping both hands up my sides, around the back. And up to my shoulder blades, scratching agonizing, slow circles into the muscle there.
“YEHEHES YOU ARE! GEHEHET OFF!!” I cry out, reaching my arms up to weakly push and punch at Simon’s chest. He seems utterly unphased.
“Well thank you for getting those out of the way for me…” Simon gathers both my wrists in this prosthetic hand, the grip tight and unwavering. He lifts them over my head, and against the wall above where I lay, and moves his free hand to the front of me, vibrating clawed fingers into my stomach.
“AAAAAAAHAHAA THIS ISNT FAHAHAIR!! I WASN’T NEARLY THIS ROUGH-!!” I whine, thrashing and bucking my hips.
“Cry about it.” Simon smiles. Deliberately dragging his hand so that one finger catches my navel.
“AAAAAHAHAHA-!! CRAHAHAP-!!” My whole body jerks, my arms pulling against Simon’s grip.
“Woah- that’s new.”
“NoHO IT ISN’T YOU KNOW THAT GEHEHETS ME!”
“Everything gets you. Everything.” Simon rolls his eyes, poking me in the belly button again, making me sputter.
“NOHOHOT TRUE.”
“Oh yea?!”
“YOU DON’T HAVE TO TRY.”
“Well if you’re gonna sit here and lie to my face, yes the fuck I do.”
“LAHAHANGUAGE!”
“Whatever GeekSquad.” He chuckles. “Let’s try… here.
Simon drags his nails along the underside of my upper arm, up the length of my tricep. I snort, turning my head to hide my face in my shoulder.
“Like who else would this work on?”
“A-ahAhaHA-! Th-thERE’s a lotta ner-“
“If you give me a breakdown of every nerve in your body right now, we’re gonna have issues.” Simon squeezes the area just above my elbow, cutting me off.
“Snrk- OKAHAY OKAY-!!”
Simon spends the next minute poking and squeezing me all over, just to prove his point. My hip, the part of my upper chest that nearly meets my arm, my thigh, my knee… and darn it he was right. I laughed at every one. I’m chalking it up to adrenaline…
“OKAHAHAY ALRIGHT I GET IT PLEHEHEASE-!”
I shake my head, glasses long since fogged up.
“I’ll stop if you agree to let me lift YOU to get my plant down off the shelf. Is that a deal?”
I groan. “Still with that stuhuhupid pill-addendum.”
“See now you’ve pissed me off.”
“Whahat?!”
“You know how to say it, assholw, you call everything by its Latin name!”
“Whatever!! It’s clohohose enough!”
“Say it correctly.”
“No! Get away!”
“Say it correctly!”
“No!!”
Simon tuts, hooking a hand behind my shoulder, resting near my neck.
“Still no?”
I freeze. “Sihihimon- Simon. C’mon-“
“3”
“WAHAIT! How do you say it?! I forget!!”
“2…”
“I DONT REMMBER HOW TO SAHAHAY IT!”
“1.”
Simon latches onto the nape of my neck, vibrating his fingertips roughly into the flesh.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHAHAHA-!!! NOOOHOHONONONO SILON! SIMON PLEHEHEASE!!” I feel my body tense up, my laughter becoming frantic, almost manic.
“Say it correctly for me, agree to my deal, and I’ll stop.” He pinches my neck, and slides his fingers upwards, sending an electric current down my spine.
“S-SHI- A-AHAHAA-!! UHM- UH- I CANT THINK!!”
“Yes you can, you’re great at it.” Simon purrs he momentarily switches to the side of my neck, offering me brief respite to think, only to return to the nape just a few seconds later. I can feel my face reddening as I for some reason hold my breath.
I let a breath out with a sputtered exhale through gritted teeth. I probably spat a little, but my eyes were closed. So if I didn’t see it, ir didn’t happen.
“PH-PHILO-DENDRON?!”
“Very good Angel, you’re halfway there.” Simon runs his nails up into my hair, and back down, making me shiver.
“A-AHA-! OKAY, Y-YES OKAHAHAY I’LL GET THE PLANT. ENOHOHOUGH!!”
Simon retracts his hand, and releases my wrists from the wall, and I slump into the ground, gasping for air.
“If you’d stop holding your breath you wouldn’t have to fight for air like this.” Simon chuckles, carding a hand through my hair, pushing it back off my face.
“You’re sweating like a pig…” he groans.
“Yeah, see how it feels?!” I huff out. He chuckles.
“Get offa me.” I hiss.
“What’s the attitude about?”
“You’re Heavy and you’re making me claustrophobic.”
“You’re not claustrophobic.”
“You don’t know my life!”
“You sleep with a weighted blanket. 20 lbs, And you pull it over your head. You aren’t claustrophobic.” I huff dramatically.
“I am when it’s you! Get offa me or I’m not getting your plant down.”
Simon shoots me a look, leaning slightly back down. I put my hands up defensively.
“Hey, what I said back there? I didn’t mean that.” I murmur.
“That’s what I thought.” Simon stands up, bracing himself on the wall as he extends a hand to me. I accept it, and he pulls me up with minimal effort.
“And you’re sure there’s nothing in here at all you can use to get your plant off that shelf.” I sigh, as we leave the lab, and make our way back to the suspended shelf.
“I’ve exhausted all my options, I assure you.”
I look up at the plant.
Stupid plant.
“Fine, let’s go. Let me step up on your hand.”
“Yeah, nice try Space Ranger, you’re going up cheerleader style.”
“Well, actually some cheer routines so use the hand ste-“
“Turn around and shut up.”
“Fine.” I turn around in a few theatrical stomps.
“Ready?”
“Don’t count me down, just go.”
“Alright, aaand- up!”
Simon takes me by my waist, lifting me up easily. I struggle for a moment, fighting the tingling feeling through my torso. I grab Simon’s philodendron, and I’m swiftly lowered back down to the ground.
“God you’re heavy.” Clearly, he’s joking, but I miss the cue
“No I’m not! I’m lighter than you are! You’ve got 7 pounds on me in muscle alone!” I protest.
“It’s a joke, hun.”
My face flares red as I clutch the plant.
“Don’t- you’ve never called- don’t call me that, don’t do that.” I stammer out.
Simon smiles at me. “Is it too warm in here for you?”
“No, shut up. Here. And I did it without flailing around.” I shove the plant into his arms.
It’s dark green, with flecks of pink all over the leaves. Honestly it’s quite pretty.
I’m sorry for calling you stupid, pretty plant.
Simon takes it. Examining it closely. He tips it to look at the roots through the clear planter.
“You’re gonna hate me.”
“…”
“This isn’t the philodendron I needed to repot. Its roots are fine.” He looks up and down the tall wall of greenery, spotting a similar plant a few feet to the right, and significantly lower, with obviously yellowed roots.
“…that’s the one I needed.” He snorts, dropping his face into his hand.
Dude, bro, love of my life, hero... you are pumping out fics like your life DEPENDS ON IT! I am so freaking impressed what the heck?????? 10/10 nothing but bangers. (That is all, I will go back to creeping in the shadows awaiting more of your gifts)❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
EEEEHEHEHEHGFECJITEE THANK YOU SO MUCH OMG!!! IM SO HAPPY U ENJOYYYYYUHHHH
honestly I don’t know how I’m writing as quick as I am rn- as soon as I get a whiff of an idea I crack open a fresh google doc, it’s ridiculous. LMAO
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Hope yall got nothin’ to do for a little while LMAOOOOO. this has been written, rewritten, revised, and damn near abandoned like,, 5 times so honestly I’m just happy it’s finished.
I’m glad you guys like BloodyMary content, bc BOY can o churn it out. Let’s get after it, gang.
Lee!Simon (Iron Lung) Ler!Grace (PHM)
🚨 TW: heated shouting, swearing. Please be aware!
Grace has been withholding a personal science project from Simon, knowing that if he were to find out about it, he would not be happy. Simon finds out about it, and is not happy…
6K words
I look in the mirror, turning my head from side to side.
“Hm..”
“What wrong, question?”
“Nothing’s wrong- my hair’s just getting a little long. I haven’t cut it in a while.”
“Hair not look different to me.”
I shrug.
“Yeah it’s not all that much longer. I just get annoyed when the back touches my neck. It’s itchy.”
“Itchy, question?”
“Yeah. Human hair can have different textures - soft and smooth, coarse and stiff, thick, thin… I happen to have pretty thick hair, which can be scratchy.”
“Hm, Grace have bad hair.”
“Wow- okay.”
I huff, taking the shears out of the cabinet and flicking them on. Rocky flinches at the sound.
“What that?! Weapon?!”
“No! No, not a weapon! They’re just clippers! They wouldn’t put a weapon on the spaceship, Rock. This is used to cut hair, see?”
I turn to the side, eyeballing a rough cut of the shaggy hair at my neck.
It wasn’t a perfect cut by any means- even worse with my eyesight, but the end goal was comfort, not style.
A few tufts of brownish blonde hair tumble down my back and onto the floor. Rocky seems horrified by the sight.
“Hurt?! Grace hurt?! Losing body part!!”
“Nooooo, Rocky, hair doesn’t feel pain when you cut it off. People cut their hair all the time! Especially when it gets long and unruly.”
“‘Scuse me.” Simon appears, bargimg into the small bathroom, startling Roxy and me both. He reaches past me, grabbing a shirt he had hung to dry on the zero-G stabilizer bars near the ceiling.
“Yeah, see? Long and unruly, like this.” I tease, picking up and gently tugging a lock of Simon’s dark, long, unkempt hair.
“Get offa me, Astroboy.” He hisses, elbowing me in the chest, knocking me a step back. I snort, shoving him in the back, pushing him out of the bathroom. “Careful! I’ve got clippers! And you got in my way, Iron Man!” I chuckle.
“That one isn’t even clever.”
“Yeah it is! Blood’s made of iron!”
“Whatever.”
“60-170 micrograms per deciliter, baby.”
Rocky chirps with quiet laughter.
“See?! He thinks it’s funny.
Simon groans from outside in the dorm.
“Hey, your first nicknames for me were ‘Savior’ and ‘Angel’, and you didn’t drop either for days, so I don’t wanna hear it.”
“I thought I was dead, and you were the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes on a bright white foreign ship. OF COURSE I thought you were an angel! had just woken up from a coma!” Simon shouts, standing in the doorway, shirt held tight in his hand.
“Ohhhh welcome to the Confused Coma Club, Iron Man. Nice to have a third member! At least you didn’t wake up to a robot claw in your face. Would you put your shirt on please?” I snicker.
“Your shirt.”
“Well you’ve stretched the heck outta the thing, so it’s yours now.” I snicker.
“Asshole.”
“Language, Moon Fish.Hey, when are you gonna let me fix your hair up? Lord knows you haven’t done much with it since you got here.”
“I don’t want a haircut.”
“At least let me brush out. Pull it out of your face a little?” I suggest.
“No.” Simon grumbles as he turns to leave. “And for the record, you definitely got a kick out of ‘Angel’.”
“…Get out of my sight.” I click the clippers on and off at him a couple times as he walks off.
I roll my eyes, crouching down to collect the tufts, putting them in the waste bin.
“Why Simon no have to cut hair, question?”
“Because he doesn’t really care about it. It’s not mandatory, some people like their hair long, some like it short.” I run a hand through my hair, pushing the fringe back off my face. “I don’t like hair touching my face or my neck, so I keep it short. Simon couldn’t care less if he tried, so he lets it grow. Simple as that.” I shrug.
“Tedious. Tedious. Humans too tedious about appearance. Inefficient, statement.”
“Yeah well.” I mutter.
“’m headed up to the lab. Join me if you want to.” I say, placing the clippers back where I found them.
“What Grace working on, question?”
I shrug. “Got some samples I’ve been looking at the last couple weeks that I wanna check on.”
“Ohhh Simon Rocket samples!! Blood and metal!” Rocky chirps.
I grimace, shaking my head.
“Shhh! Rocky! …Ok, yes, those samples, but don’t say it so loud!”
“Why question?!”
“I don’t…” I peek my head out of the bathroom to make sure the coast is clear. “I don’t want Simon to know that I harvested samples from the planet and vessel that almost killed him!” I hiss.
“But… alive now! And okay! Should not matter.”
“In a perfect universe it wouldn’t matter. But trauma can make things that can no longer hurt you feel just as painful. And besides- he doesn’t react well to blood… he said it agitates him. I don’t wanna trigger him.”
“Why Grace get samples then?!”
“I got them before he told me all this! Look. I only work with the samples when he’s asleep, to minimize risk of exposure. I already feel bad enough keeping the stuff on board.”
“Then eject samples. Statement.”
“Through the airlock that’s as loud as a star exploding? Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“Bad bad idea.”
“Yeah, well I don’t know what else to do, Rock. I’m doing the best I can.”
-
It’s late.
And you’ll just have to take my word for it, since it always looks like night in space, but according to the clocks in the lab, it was well after midnight.
Simon had gone to sleep early, around 9:45, as opposed to his normal 11:00, so I spent that extra time in the lab this evening doing some work on the hull and ocean samples that I had - selfishly - retrieved from Simon’s ship during the rescue mission.
It was truthfully meant to be somethingto keep me busy during the rest of the flight to Erid. I wanted to learn about the blood ocean, the ship itself, what perhaps critical design flaws went overlooked, leading to the wrek, and maybe even figure out how Simon’s body was able to mutate in such a short time.
I could ask Simon all these things too, of course. But there was no use jostling trauma that was still trying to heal.
By the end of my session, the lab station was a wreck covered in specks of rust, drops and splatters of blood at varying dilutions that had escaped the pipettes I had been using to transport it from vials to dish to slide.
It looked like a bit of a crime scene. I chuckle, lifting my goggles over my head, setting them to the side.
In the last few weeks, I had come up with some pretty interesting results from the experiments and tests I had spent so long in secret running. I did wish I could share them with Simon, but the time didn’t feel right.
Who knows if he’d even want to know some of this stuff. Why did I want to know?
There was a bin in the lab specifically for biowaste, which is where I discarded my stained gloves. Although the blood from the ocean wasn’t technically from a human, it still counted as human blood. Finally, I wipe down the station, and begin packing up all my samples.
“What could you possibly be working on this late.”
“AAAH-! Cheez-itz! Where did you come from?! Why are you up?!”
I jolted, scrambling to shove the rusted metal, vials, and microscope into the nearby cubby at the back of the lab station.
“Nightmare. What’re you doing?” He remained unflinching, standing with my cardigan lazily draped over his shoulders.
“Nothing! Nothing important I- I was just… working on something for Rocky… that he uh… asked me to do.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm!”
“Something for Rocky.”
“Yes.”
Simon looked me up and down.
“How many times I gotta tell you you’re an obvious liar. Simon rolls his eyes, pushing past me with ease.
“Simon-‘ wait, hold on-“
“Rusty metal? The hell does Rocky need with rusty metal when he has xenonite?” He mutters, peering into the cubby, dragging the lab set back out.
I groan as he leans down, looking at thw small vials of red liquid, all in a row on their stand, each one a slightly diluted color than the last. The stacked Petri dishes, and wrapped microscope slides.
Simon scanned the table, then looked back at me.
“Is this blood-? Are these samples from my ship?!” He looked… very irritated.
I freeze, unsure of how to respond.
He caught on quick….
“I- uhm, yeah…?”
He gave me a searching look, taking a step back.
“How the fuck did you get these?”
“I- I salvaged them during the rescue operation-!”
“Why do you have pieces of my ship?” His voice dropped. Ice cold.
“I- I’m sorry! I didn’t think it would be that… big of a deal..?”
“Not that big of a deal.”
“Yeah! I just- I just wanted to do some research on y-your ship! And the composition of-“
“You could just ask me that yourself, Ryland.”
“I mean, I could, but that would just be unnecessary trauma exposure…”
“AND THIS ISN’T?!” He shouted, slamming his prosthetic fist into the table. I clambered backward into a neighboring table, slamming my back into the corner of it.
“I told you specifically, in trust and confidence, that I NEVER wanted to see that god forsaken moon, the ship that was almost my CASKET, OR THE BLOOD THAT TURNED ME INTO A FUCKING MONSTER. EVER. AGAIN.” Simon shouted, bearing his teeth at me.
I cowered away, shifting away from the table, only to misstep, and fall backward onto the floor.
“I- I know, I know I’m sorry.”
“AND AT NO POINT, DID YOU THINK IT WOULD BE WISE TO TELL ME YOU KEPT SOUVENIRS OF MY DEATH SENTENCE?”
“I- I thought I could do a better job! At keeping it hidden!”
“That’s what you’re taking from this.”
Simon stood over me, the dim, pale light of the lab backlighting his hulking silhouette.
“NO! I- I didn’t mean it like that!” My heart was pounding in my chest.
“I’m not sure I believe you. Seems spot on to me” I could hear every inhale and exhale from his lungs. 
“Please-! Please, you- just listen! I already had the samples before I knew a-anything you told me. I wanted to bring it up but I didn’t know how ithout upsetting you, I’m sorry-!”
Simon says nothing. I swear I could see his red eye flicker in the low light as he stood over me like a devil in the dark.
“I- I can get rid of it! I can put it all in the airlock and I can shoot it aaaall out into space.”
…
“Simon..?” I was paralyzed, firmly against the wall like I was trying to phase right through it.
Simon makes some kind of move towards me that I could only see a split second of before I flinched, shutting my eyes.
“No- NO-! ROCKYYY!” I shout on a broken cry, balling up on the ground and bracing for… something.
Nothing ever came.
I heave, still rigid in fear.
Enough time passes for me to be confident I was no longer in danger. I open my eyes.
He’s… gone.
-
I’m in trouble… boy don’t I know it…
know I’ve made a mistake. A ridiculous, moronic, dangerous mistake. And honestly, if he would have torn me into microscopic pieces for going behind his back like I did, I wouldn’t hold it against him.
So stupid! All of that, just to do some reaserch on a moon I’m never going back to, and a vessel that’s been pulverized.
I feel like a horrible friend.
It’s been three hours. Simon is probably in bed by the window, and I’ve sequestered myself in the dorm, frankly too scared to go up.
He wouldn’t have actually hurt me…
Even if something did happen, that’d be 100% on me.
Rocky didn’t hear me calling for him. He was asleep, here in the dorm.
I set Simon off, AND left Rocky to sleep alone. Great.
I sit up slowly, standing up off the bed, pacing around in a circle around Rocky, asleep in his ball.
At the very least, I can gather up all my samples of Simon’s ship, and toss it all in the airlock. I won’t cycle it, since it’s late, and the airlock is deafeningly loud, but hopefully it’ll put Simon a bit more at ease if I prove that I’m willing to get rid of everything.
I think to myself.
Yeah, that’s a good plan.
I make my way up the ladder, out of the dorm and into the main, long hallway. It’s pretty easy to sneak around the ship, since nothing really creaks or squeaks under foot.
There’s no light aside from the dim emergency lab bulbs a few yards down the hall, the light spilling up from the dormitory hatch behind me, and the hazy starlight at the end of the corridor.
I feel like I’m walking through a haunted house. It’s dark, I can hardly see as is, and I don’t have any idea where Simon is.
I don’t know if he’s asleep, awake, still mad, and stalking me…
One step at a time… my only objective is to collect the samples, and put them in the airlock. Easy!
I come upon the enterance to the lab. Staying close to the wall, I lean over, peeking in.
Simon’s in the lab…. Simon’s in the lab?! What’s he doing..?!
He’s at the station I left all the hull samples at. Craptastic. What does he want with them?! I thought he didn’t want to see them!
Maybe he’s getting rid of them himself. Thats okay too, I guess. He isn’t obligated to tell me. Those were pieces of his ship, after all-
~Creeeeeak~
I jolt- I had put too much of my weight on the open lab door, making the heavy metal creak as it slid forward.
I ducked away, my back to the wall I had been so desperately hugging. I closed my eyes tight, biting my lip, hoping, praying that Simon didn’t hear.
…
A moment passed. Nothing. Clear.
I open my eyes, turning back around the corner.
“Ryland.”
“AGH-! Simon! I’m so- SO sorry, I- I wasn’t spying on you! I was-“
He raises both his hand.
“Stop talking.”
“Okay.”
“What are you doing? Why are you creeping around the ship like it isn’t your ship?”
“…”
“You can speak now.”
I sigh. “I… I thought you’d be asleep by now… I was coming back to get rid of all the samples…”
“Right.”
“I’m serious!”
“You weren’t gonna just move them someplace else.”
“Simon.”
“You understand my hesitation to trust you right now, right? It was easy enough for you to lie to me before, why wouldn’t it be now?”
“I didn’t lie to you!”
“Lying by omission is still lying, Ryland.”
“Fine, yes, that’s… that’s fair, and I’m sorry! I don’t know how else to prove to you that I’m sorry!”
“…”
“…”
“Did you learn anything?”
“W-what-? I I mean yes, I’ve learned a lot from this- n-not to just go and do things behind-“
“From the samples.”
My face goes a little red. Oops. “Oh. Y-yes, I did, yeah.” I mutter.
Simon stares at me for a moment, piercing eyes scanning my face like a laser.
He grabs me by the wrist, turns, and drags me behind him into the lab.
“W-wait woah-! Woah woah, what’re we doing?!”
We reach the lab station, and Simon shoves me down onto the lab stool.
“Show me.”
“…Show you…”
“Show me what you’ve gleaned from your samples.”
“Are you sure? We don’t have to-“
“Show me.” Simon hisses.
“Alright! Alright… okay. Um…” I tap my fingers anxiously on my thigh as o think of what to show him.
“Okay, well for starters, I know why your hill breached.” I say, reaching down to a metal filing drawer, pulling out a thick notebook, edges worn, with various corners of stray parts and sticky notes poking out in all directions.
I set it on the table, flipping it open, scanning the page with my finger.
“You keep physical notes?”
“Well I didn’t wanna risk you stumbling across the notes on the ship’s cloud drive, so I opted for physical.”
Simon groans.
“I l ow… I’m just being honest. Here.” I point to a paragraph on the center of the page. Keeping my finger on the paper to hold my place, I reach into the cubby at the back of the desk, pulling out a sealed, clear container that I’m sure Simon missed.
I hand it to him.
“That’s a chunk of the outside layer of your hull.”
“I can see that.” Simon groans,poking at the chunk of metal inside. It was a good sized piec- maybe about theee or four inches, square.
“Turn it over.” Simon flips the container.
“See the caked on blood there? Under earth.”
“Everything was caked in blood, what’s this supposed to prove.”
I stand up, looking down at the sample, and tapping the plastic of the container.
“Yes, but look. The entire bottom side of the piece is covered in dried blood. The bottom shouldn’t look like that if it were functioning properly. The outer layer wasn’t secured to the body of the vessel, and it was allowing ocean blood in between the hull and the body of the ship.” I explain.
“In space, a breach like that would kill you in minutes.”
Simon stares at the sample intensely.
“Rush job.”
“Rush Job. They just needed it done and built to send you down. It was a design error.”
I sit back down.
Simon is quiet for a while.
“What else.” His tone has softened quite a bit. He sounds curious now, as opposed to angry, and holding himself back.
I swivel back around on my stool to my notebook, flipping through the pages.
“Right, uh… nothing, nothing, nothing… a lot of obvious observations… oh! Oh…” I land on a page titled ‘Mutation’, and I sigh.
“What?”
“I uhm… I think I found what may have mutated your body, Simon.” I say cautiously. He stares at me, and I can’t read his expression at all.
“Okay, come here, look at this.” I slide everything on the desk aside, and pull the microscope forward.
I switch it on, and reach for a pair of gloves.
I spend the next few minutes setting up a slide with a drop of diluted ocean blood, and a very small sample of the only other living cell I could safely work with. A drop of taomoeba.
I close, and load the slide onto the microscope, and move out of the way for Simon to take a look.
“There’s something in the ocean blood. A microbe of some kind, and it’s aggressive.” I say.
“What’s it doing?”
“You see it? The little red cells?”
“Yeah… those aren’t blood cells..?”
“Yes, and no. They’re similar. They have almost the same composition and shape, but they’re poonty.”
Simon adjusts the magnification on the slide, zooming in.
“Has it found a tapmoeba yet?”
“Yeah, it… it attacked it. It killed it.”
“Keep watching.” I fold my hands in my lap, turning to watch Simon.”
“It’s moving again. The taomoeba. But it’s moving around kinda frantic.”
“Yeah, I observed the same.” I say. “The ocean blood cell attacked it, killed it, and replaced what was lost withsome e of itself. It mutated the taomoeba.”
Simon Stands up straight.
“That’s what happened to you. The microbe got into your system through a wound, probably, killed off parts of your body, and managed to change your genetic code just enough to convince your body to self edit.” I sigh.
Simon nods slowly, his eyes fixed on the floor.
“I mean… it’s not all terrible, though. If you really think about it, if you weren’t mutated into something that could withstand the ocean… you may not have made it out. I may not have ever found you.”
I stand up, shoving my hands in my pockets.
“The mutation doesn’t seem to be spreading anymore, since you got here. Which is also a plus. You had enough healthy human cells to fight off the infection, with Armando’s help, so it’s not gonna get any worse. The ocean blood cells can’t survive without th right atmospheric conditions. Thats why I keep them in the vials- oh!”
Simon cuts me off, wrapping me in a tight hug. I stand there, frozen like a fool, unsure of what I’m supposed to do or say.
“Thank you.”
“For… what, exactly-?” I mutter.
He doesn’t reply for a while.
“Proving with your sneaky, annoying science that I’m not a monster.”
The words are quiet, muttered into my shoulder like something he was assuring himself of, and not telling me as a fact.
“What?! Of course you aren’t. You never were. You’re a survivor.” I finally bring my arms up, hugging him back for a long while.
With a deep breath, I take him by the shoulders, prying him off me, and holding him at arms length so I could look him in the eye.
“And look, I’ll still get rid of the samples if you want me to. I never should have hidden them from you, and if you want them gone, they’re gone.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No, it’s better if you keep them.”
“Are you certain that’s what you want?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll even let you cycle the airlock yourself.” I chuckle.
“Angel, I’m positive.” He smiles softly.
“Angel? Why am I Angel again Not Gracie, or Astroboy?”
“Would you prefer something else?”
“No, just wondering.” I shrug, letting go of Simon’s shoulders, and turning back to the lab table. I grab a small cup, and a small squeeze bottle that I had lying off to the side, filling the cup about a quarter inch.
“What’re you doing now?”
“Killing the mutated taomoeba. I don’t want these little guys running around the ship. Already had one leak, and that was plenty.” I remove the slide carefully from the microscope, and dunk it into the cup.
Simon leans down over the cup, his hair falling over his shoulder, into his face, dangling over the cup.
I gasp, quickly reaching over, gathering his hair and holding it back. The solution wasn’t volatile, just some lab grade isopropyl alcohol, but a rule o always had in my classroom was to keep hair, clothes, skin, and jewelry away from chemicals at all times.
“Careful-! Careful- my god! How many times do I need to tell you to watch your hair around the lab!” I scold, holding a bit too tight, as evidenced by whether grimace on Simon’s face.
“Sorry, my bad- here let me…” I step behind Simon, twirling his hair around two of my fingers, and fastening it onto a tight bun. He didn’t seemed thrilled, but he didn’t fight me.
“There. Perfect. It wouldn’t hurt to wear some goggles… too…” I trail off a bit, walking back around to the side, as Simon looks at me.
“What?”
“N-nothing! I’ve just never seen you without your hair in your face. Looks good!”
He rolls his eyes. He did honestly look a lot different. The usual shadow cast over his eyes was gone. They were a lot kinder in the light - and maybe a bit tired.
“It feels ridiculous.”
“It isn’t, you’re just not used to it.”
Simon groans walking to the other side of me, helping me clean up the lab station.
“Oh- no don’t worry about it, I got it.”
I shake my head, looking up at Simon. I catch a glimpse of something I hadn’t seen before just as he picks up some equipment, and pivots to go put it back in a cabinet a few paces away.
“Wait- hold up. Back up. Come here a second.”
Simon sighs. He knows exactly what I saw.
“No, you make too big of a deal out of everything.”
“Correct! Now come here! You’ve got another mutation you weren’t telling me about?”
“So you can keep secrets, but GOD FORBID I do…”
I jog over to him, ignoring his jab. “Hold on, let me see!”
Simon rolls his head back in annoyance, before relenting. “Oh my god, it’s not that interesting!”
“You’ve got a fin for an ear! That’s incredibly interesting!”
It’s true. On the same side as the rest of his mutation, Simon’s ear had become something like a multi-pointed fin around the shell. The points were sharp, three of them, jutting out about two inches from where the top curve of his ear used to be. A r rib of cartilage held each point up, like the bones of a duck’s webbed feet.
The extension of the ear faded in an even ombré from the paling tan of Simon’s slin, to a bright ruby red at the ends of each spoke.
“That’s incredible! This is what you were hiding under your hair this whole time?!”
Simon takes a seat on the low lab table, letting me do my thing.
“Yeah, it looks dumb.”
“No it doesn’t you look like a dragon! You’re so tough on yourself, Si, jeez.” I say, still glued to Simon’s fin.
“What could this mutation possibly have been useful for…?” I mutter to myself, running a finger along the back of the fin.
Simon’s head lulls to the side, into my hand just slightly. It seemed to happen against his will.
“Yeah?” I give Simon a sideways smile, repeating the motion again, scritching with a bit more pressure this time. He tilts his head again, looking at me like I’ve put some kind of spell on him.
“No way-!” I laugh.
“I’m not doing anything! I can’t contr-ol i-it!” I scratch behind Simon’s ear with purpose, and he drops his head completely into my hand. And his leg starts to bounce against the ground.
I smile wide, laughing more out of surprise than anything else.
“Oh my goodness! You’re like a puppy! A sea puppy!” Simon tries to scowl at me, but a smile fights his way onto his face.
“C-cuhut that out, Grace.”
“You’re laughing! Does that tickle? Ha!” I experimentally run a nail up one of the points, earning a snort from Simon. He shrugs his shoulder up in defense.
“Haha! How silly is that?!” I lift my other hand to his opposite ear, scratching behind it the same way. He laughs just as much as he did with the fin, but without any additional movement.
“Ohhh okay, so you’ve just got ticklish ears anyway. But this one-“ I give the back of his fin a sort of rough scratch.
He lets out a high piched cackle, dropping his head to the side again, his knee bouncing in place.
“This one’s the ticket right here!” I snicker.
“A-ahahAHAhaAHA-! G-GRAHAHACE!”
“Yeah? Whats up, bud?” I lower my hand on Simon’s undamagwd side to scritch along the curve of his jaw. He laughs through gritted teeth.
“S-stoHOHOP! I- I’m gonna kihihill you!”
“Noooo, you won’t. Earlier if you told me that I woulda believed you- but you wouldn’t be calling me ‘Grace’ if you were really upset. It’d be ‘Ryland’.” I say my own name with a deep, gravelly imitation of Simon’s voice.
Simon shakes his head back and forth, slowly sliding down off the table. I follow him down to the floor, a hand on the back of his head to make sure he didn’t smash it into the table on his descent.
“Ok, floor it is. Comfortable?” I sit on my knees towering over his slumped down form.
“Stay- a-away from me.”
“Why would I do that, Siren?”
“Siren-?”
“Yeah, the dish fin thing gives you a kinda mermais, siren kinda look. And it rhymes with Simon, so-“
“Laaaame.”
I scoff. “Askin’ for it!” I say, bringing my hands back to either side of Simon’s head, skittering randomly all over, behind his ear, behind his fin, along his jaw, under his chin, and down his neck, all while making the most annoying ’tchktchktchk’ sound through my teeth, just to tease him, really.
“A-AHAHAHA-HAHA!! GOHOHOHODDAMNIT-!!”
“I would have never known your face could turn so red with all that hair you kept in your face, man!”
“S-shuUHUT UP-!” Simon puts his arm across his face.
“Absolutely not, c’mon.” I tutted, shooting a hand down underneath the arm, pinching and prodding at his armpit. His arm comes crashing back down to his side, and he howls.
“You can’t butter me up with a nice nickname, that doesn’t work as well as you think it does.” I drag my hands down, gently running my nails over Simon’s gills. I know it can be a bit much for him, so I take it easy.
“AGH!! YOHOHOU BASTARD-!”
“See? That’s why nice nicknames don’t work. And I’m not even being aggressive about it! I’m going nice and easy.” I say in a bit of a condescending tone. I’m having fun, sue me.
“DohoHON’T patronihihize me I could tAHAKE it.”
“Ohhh is that a challenge, Fishstick?” I grin, stilling my hands.
“Do it, Foxtrot.” Simon hisses.
I smile, staring down at him for a moment.
I extend a hand to him firmly.
“No fighting, hitting, or shoving me off. Gills, thirty seconds, or until you say “Hail Mary.” Deal?”
Simon mulls it over in his head for a moment.
He takes my hand and gives it a confident shake.
“Deal.”
“Alright, ready?” Simon nods.
I swing a leg over him, straddling him by the thighs to keep him down. “3… 2… 1!”
I latch onto Simon’s ribs, both hands velcroed to the middle gills on each side. With everything I have, I vibrate my fingers into the arches.
Holy moly his screaming could wake the dead.
“AAAAAAA AAHAHAHAHHAHA-!!! SHIT SHIT SHIHIHIT-!”
“Let’s find kinder words.”
“NOHOHO, SCREW YOHOHOUHAHAHAHAHA-!’ OH MY GOHOHOD-!”
“Could’ya say it a little louder? I couldn’t hear you too well, actually.”
I chuckle, and switch to raking my nails up and down Simon’s ribs with force I typically would never use. Not enough to leave any sort of mark, but probably pretty close to it.
By this point, Simon has completely slid onto his back on the floor. He had taken to gripping the locked drawer handle behind and above him to keep his arms out of the way. Man, he was serious about this.
“Fifteen seconds.” I announce. I speed my hands up, switching back to the vigorous kneading from before, making Simon’s entire body jolt.
“Huh, look at that- your other ear is just as red as your fin now.” I tease.
“HUHIHUSH.”
“So rude.” I huff, leaning down, and without slowing my hands down, blow hard against the side of Simon’s neck.
I had forgotten to shave earlier too. If this were any other situation, I’d apologize for the scruff.
“AAAHAHAHAHAHA-! FOUL! THAHAHAT’S A FOHOHOIL!”
“No it isn’t. I just said “gills”. I did t specify which gills. You signed off on it.” I say with a conniving smile.
I blow another, then another, the seconds ticking down. I switched quickly to the raking motion against his ribs again, and to my surprise…
“OKAHAHAHAY!! OKAY OKAY OKAY I GIVE!”
I slow down a bit, but don’t stop.
“What do you sayyyy,theeeen?” I I sing out.
“HAIL MAHAHARY! HAHAHAIL MAHAHARY-! PLEASE-! Please-! A-Angehehel-!” His voice quiets down as o stop at the very first word.
“You alright?”
Simon groans, letting his arms fall from the drawer handle.
“Yehehes. I’m fine. Did I make it.?”
“Three seconds short.”
“Bullshit.”
I snicker. “Toooold youuu- WOAH-!”
Simon takes me by the shoulders, pulls me down, and barrel rolls us both over, pushing up once he’s successfully swapped our positions.
“That was a cheap shot to the neck! I would have won!”
I laugh incredulously. “You ALWAYS say that! It was fair game! Get ohohoff me!” Simon gets one decent squeeze to my stomach before I catch his hand, wrestling it away.
Simon growls, pushing against my arms as I push back, the two of us wrestling like dogs on the lab floor.
I pull my legs free drum under Simon, moving them both to the right, and using them to push Simon over to the left, successfully knocking him off me.
“Oof-! Christ! Where the hell did you learn that?!”
Don’t worry about it! TRUCE! Truce! No more.” I yelp out through nervous laughter as Simon looks at me like he’s gonna jump at me again.
“Truce.” I say again.
“Fine, Fine, truce.” He nods, pushing his hair, that had long since jostled free of the bun, back behind both ears.
“Hey! You’re wearing it out of your face now!” I smile, crossing my arms.
The right, unscarred half of his face turns a little bit pink. I never knew it took so little to embarrass him- I’m learning a lot with a clearer view of Simon’s face.
He gives me a look. He knows I noticed.
He rolls his eyes, lift in himself off the ground.
“Oh shut up, Gracie, you’re just as bad.” He leans down as he walks past, grabbing my cheeks and giving my face a firm shake, before stepping over me on the floor. “At least I have the hair to cover it up.”
“You have the hair because you refuse to cut it.”
“I do t want it cut!”
“You’re just too lazy to cut it!”
“I am not too lazy, o simply do not feel like it.” Simon mutters, replacing all the tools and equipment on the lab table back in their respective homes.
“First of all, same thing, and I’ve offered to do it, no less than 700 times.”
“And magically, you think im gonna say yes on the 701st ask! You know what that is? Insanity.” He points a finger down at me. “And besides I don’t trust you. You’re scissorhappy.”
“Wrong!”
“Correct!”
“I cut my own hair just fine, and I can cut yours!”
Simon looks at my hair with a raised brow, then back down at me.
“Yeah, I’ll pass.”
“What?! I look great!”
“In the dark.”
“Fishbrain…”
“Dogboy.”
“Dog boy?!” I scoff
“Yeah, your whole thing is foxes. Foxes are dogs”
“Incorrect. They’re both in the Canidae family, but they’re completely different. Just like how a tabby cat isn’t the same as a tiger.”
“Ohhh whatever! You certainly yap like a fox.
I snort, standing up off the floor. “Yap yap yap yap!” I make “quiet coyote” hands, making them bark in Simon’s face.
“Get away from me, you stray.” He mutters.
“Don’t hate on foxes, you’re still wearing my cardigan!” I snicker, bumping into Simon on purpose as I walk past. He shoves me back, making me hop a step forward.
“Oh! You can keep that notebook, by the way.”
“Notebook?”
“Yeah, the one with all the stuff I wrote on your ship samples. There’s two whole pages about the composition of the ocean. Some weird stuff in there.”
Simon looks down at the still open notebook on the table.
“You sure? You don’t need it?”
“Nah, next time I work on the samples, you can help me out. I’ve got plenty more books- we can start another one.” I smile.
Simon nods slowly, closing the book carefully, keeping a hand on the cover.
“Thank you.”
“No problem.” I give Simon a thumbs down, which he returns with a quiet whir of his xenonite arm.
“I gotta get back to Rocky… I’ve let him sleep alone wayyyy too long.”
“Right, alright. G’night, Starman.”
“Ha’ I like that one!” I laugh on my way out of the lab. “There’s a staaaaaarMAAAAAAN waiting in the skyyyyy!”
I head canon Grace being ticklish at least to some extent pretty much everywhere and Rocky loves to find all the little weird spots to drive him up a wall palm/arm tickling needs some more love imo
sorry it’s so sketchy looking, running out of ideas and motivation😔 (feel free to give any ideas you would want to see no promises I’ll draw them tho!) but I hope you all still like it🩷
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Because she's literally cute, i miss her, i <3 her
i ramble a lot in the beginning
☆
It's fairly obvious when Stratt minds physical touch: When she doesn't want contact she'll say something quick and stern, she'll move away, all the signals are clear as day.
When she does allow it (when it's initiated by somebody else more specifically), she doesn't move away, but she doesn't entirely lean into it either. She keeps up that unbothered, flippant front up for as long as she can.
With Dr. Grace, she frames it as if allowing contact from him is more for his sake than her own (... there must be a reason he's reaching out to me instead of someone else... perhaps he needs the closeness, it'll improve morale...)
She tries to believe she's just humouring somebody rather than actually considering herself an active participant in social-connecting behavior (aka. she does not want to address the aching desire for human connection).
These are mostly unorganized thoughts and scenearios -.- ->
Stratt isn't too affected by typical teasing while she's being tickled. Ryland's little quips are annoying, at times on the verge of irritating, so stupid it's unfortunately amusing? Or it fires her up to enact a devestating revenge.
But the thing that gets her to crumble is verbal reassurances that she can say "stop" whenever she wants. It always catches her off guard because suddenly focusing on what she wants is nervewracking, and it never fails in getting a slight flush to her cheeks.
"Is this okay? Are you feeling okay?" Or "What about here? Or over here? Hereeee?", and anything adjacent to "Just say the word and I'll stop!" flusters her to no end and she'll do her absolute best to react no more than to the tickling she's trying to endure. (The tickling that she's perfectly capable of escaping btw)
proper headcanons:
◇ On the lower side of the ticklish scale, so go-to places like her sides doesn't do much, especially if she's actively resisting- she will not allow just anyone to tickle her, she will not react if she is not comfortable with the individual
◇ Slips to speaking in her own language when she's frantic, she's quickly taking the opportunity to protest and shout without Grace responding with the obvious, "I'll stop when you say so ^^ I promise!" (I think Grace can get mischeivous with it, saying "Oh, I can't understand you!" then slowing down and asking Stratt, "What were you trying to tell me?"- there's a moment of silence where she chooses to bite her tongue and Ryland starts again with "Oops, I guess you weren't trying to tell me to stop!" with the happiest expression on his face)
◇ She hides! (ex. wrapping herself tightly in her coat to protect certain spots, tugging the collar up to hide her face and cover up sounds, or tucking her chin under a scarf, or pulling her hat down)
◇ More ticklish to heavier pressure (She's got layers on most of the time, and she's not easily ticklish, so!- I imagine really getting her to laugh loud takes a very deep knead to a bad spot, like to the back of her ribs or mid-upper back. totally not from experience but getting an knuckle kneaded slightly above the shoulderblade and below the base of the neck is where I imagine she has it the worst)
◇ I feel she's the type of person to curl up as much as possible if she decides to allow the tickling to happen, she's not going down without any sort of fight at all, she's going to be difficult as much as possible
