𖦏 danny2cool

Fumbled his way through, babeyyy.

<-Part 21 & 22 Part 25 & 26->

Human connection. Yay.

<-Part 23 & 24 Part 27 & 28->

Does this count as mature content

<-Part 25 & 26 Part 29 & 30->

Omg Rocky we missed you. This should go well!!

<-Part 27 & 28

Omg Rocky we missed you. This should go well!!

<-Part 27 & 28

Does this count as mature content

<-Part 25 & 26 Part 29 & 30->

Human connection. Yay.

<-Part 23 & 24 Part 27 & 28->

Fumbled his way through, babeyyy.

<-Part 21 & 22 Part 25 & 26->

Haha! Didn’t think that one through.

<-Part 19 & 20 Part 23 & 24->

It ok, Simon.

<-Page 17 & 18 Part 21 & 22->

have some outfit refs for the fanfic, this is what the losers will be wearing for like the rest of the story lol

anyway this is for chapter 2, which has been posted

SPOILER-Y STUFF UNDER THE CUT \/

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Project Hail Mary (2026), Iron Lung (2026) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: The Convict | Simon (Iron Lung)/Ryland Grace, Ryland Grace/Rocky Characters: Ryland Grace, The Convict | Simon (Iron Lung), Rocky (Project Hail Mary) Additional Tags: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Ryland Grace and Rocky are Soulmates, Adrian is to Rocky as Simon is to Grace (eventually), Developing Relationship, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Touch-Starved, everyone is touch-starved even rocky, this bad boy is packed with yearning and longing and grief and hope, Buckle up, Eventual Smut, Canon-Typical Gore (Iron Lung), canon-typical hope (Project Hail Mary), rocky is the captain of this ship, In more ways than one, Trauma Recovery, these boys are fucking SAD, rocky fixes everything, Well - Freeform, most things, Mutated The Convict | Simon (Iron Lung), some body horror, i promise you the body horror WILL take a backseat to the tenderness of everything else

Summary:

Grace feels out of body. He feels like he’s watching himself wake up all over again, the first time; remembers tubes ripping from his body, bile in his throat, panic at the forefront of each discombobulated sensation, blurry eyes, aching hands, ringing ears, clawing uselessly at the floor to get away from this place, whatever this place is—

“Armando! Halt all operations.”

//

Tfw you're recovered enough that you get to shower on your own but you're low-key dreading it because you come from a resource scarce space station and all showers are quick and cold and you know all your muscles are gonna get tense as hell and it's gonna HURT with your new wounds.