tya

teenagers citing his videos and data as primary sources on their school projects (how do you make an mla citation for a home video filmed in space?)

grace's final goodbye to earth getting billions of views on youtube

sexy edits of grace ALL OVER tiktok and instagram

grace becomes a whole scientific field unto himself. teams of scientists dedicate their lives to the study of his research and his contributions. maybe some of those scientists were his students once upon a time.

grace x rocky ALL OVER ao3

books on eridian language and culture hit the shelves and sell out immediately

eridian culture reignites conversations about the construct of gender, eridians become nonbinary/agender symbols

space is suddenly back at the forefront of the public mind. space-travel units are introduced to grade school science curriculum worldwide. entire classes are taught solely on grace and his scientific discoveries. EVERYONE wants to be an astronaut

of course, hollywood makes a big-budget Dr. Ryland Grace biopic. it's a box office hit. a huge online movement results in ryan gosling playing grace, and everyone agrees the likeness is uncanny. stratt is the villain of the story.

a series of heartfelt videos from grace to stratt, in which he says hello and goodbye and i hate you and thank you and i miss you, are found in the database and reposted online. there's suddenly a massive outcry of support for her, which results in her release from prison. some youtuber makes a gritty but surprisingly touching short film about her story

people coming together to make earth better. trying to repair the damages from the sun's dimming, trying to repair the environment, trying to repair global relations. they want to be an earth worth saving, an earth that grace would be proud of

space travel becomes a huge global priority, the nations of the world pool resources and there are huge advances in technology (especially with scientists studying xenonite!)

the project hail mary launch date becomes a huge global holiday. there's a parade in almost every city all over the world in honor of the hail mary. people lay candles and flowers at memorials for yao, ilyukhina, annie, and dubois. murals of grace and rocky cover building sides. people gather in the streets and remember those who saved them, and banners that read "grace rocky save stars" flutter in the wind above the crowds.

coca cola airs a VERY insensitive commercial with some low quality eridian puppets. the commercial is slammed online and company stocks plummet

look at my astronaut dawg we’re all gonna live

rundown— eva stratt x reader, fem!reader, alcohol intake, suggestive themes, overall just cute so fluff, established relationship (married), no smut, sort of domestic fluff as well?

about 1k words — made for my lovely libby 🫰

“Eva, please,” you whispered. “It’s nearly midnight and you’ve been working all week, nonstop, day and night.” You entwined your fingers with hers, slowly inching towards the rather small, black couch in your shared apartment’s living room. “You need to rest, relax.”

You’ve dealt with this countless times before. Your overworked, exhausted, and impossibly high-achieving wife returns in the late hours of the night with a greeting and a usual “I’ll be working in the bedroom.” sentence that never failed to bring a small frown to your face. Her weary eyes locked onto yours as she gave you an apologetic smile, dragging herself to said bedroom in a near-undead manner.

But you’ve decided that that’s not what’s happening today.

“Honey,” your wife started, your index finger coming up to her soft lips, shushing her gently as you lead her to the couch, holding her gaze.

“Yes, I know you’re leading a quadruple suicide mission to save the world and that it needs daily and thorough attention AND-”

“It can’t-“

“-I know that it cannot wait and that you’re just so close to handling Grace’s papers but please,” a small, gentle smile crept to your lips as you settled her down on the couch, hands on her shoulders. “I’m sure a few hours can be spared to spend relaxing with the woman you married, can they not?” You sat right next to her, your gaze momentarily wavering to her lips before it returned to her eyes.

“I suppose they could.” She murmured, the exhaustion in her voice evident as the words hung in the air, only for you to hear.

You flashed her a small, thankful smile, and she weakly returned it, the gesture melting your heart as much as an ice cream left on the front porch.

——————

The coffee table looked nearly artistic. A bottle of wine that had a fancy packaging with a concerning year of production engraved into it, an open can of cookies, and two black hair ties next to a soft beige hairbrush.

Your hands were threaded in your wife’s red hair, gently settling the strands into a braid as you were sitting on the couch, your legs on her shoulders as she sat below you on the fuzzy carpet. “Could you hand me that hairbrush, please?” You asked softly, watching Eva lift the hand resting on your thigh, the place momentarily turning cold before she returned it after passing you the hairbrush. You could only hum in gratitude as she placed a small kiss right above your knee.

You knew she needed this.

But you knew you also did,

You craved it.

Your train of thought was interrupted by a small, disapproving noise from your wife. “This wine tastes like shit.” She scrunched her nose at the flavour as she put the glass back on the coffee table, her eyes finding the television screen again. “Shouldn’t it be like- super old and fine and-“ You picked up the bottle, showing the date to Eva. “1962 Sha- Scha- what…”

Your (failed) attempt to read the name earned you a small giggle from Eva before she took the bottle from you, your fingers (deliberately?) brushing before she checked the bottle herself, reading the name out loud.

“No, Eva, I’m pretty sure that’s not how you read it.”

“It is.” She gave you a small, teasing look.

“No see it’s- never mind I’m sure it just isn’t”

“It’s French.”

“It isn’t.”

Eva gave you a small, almost mocking smirk before she tilted her head, looking up at you. “Sweetheart, I studied French for about 10 years. I think I can tell.”

You could only roll your eyes at that and fight that small, annoying smile creeping up to your face whenever your amazing wife flaunted her smarts in front of you.

——————

After what felt like the loveliest time in your entire life, you circled the hair tie around the end of Eva’s now finished braid, lightly stroking her hair as you set the hair brush down.

“All done.” You whispered, giving Eva a small kiss on the top of her head before lying back on the couch with a small sigh. Eva touched her hair, turning her head to look up at you, slightly raising an eyebrow with a smile on her lips. “I want to have you do this to me daily.” You smirked back at her, vaguely mirroring her expression. “Is that an order, director?” You watched her eyes flutter shut for mere seconds as you received a genuine laugh from her, one that you hadn’t heard for days. “It definitely is.” She cooed back now fully turning to you, her hands still on your thighs.

“Won’t get out of it now, will I?” You felt a familiar warmth in your face as the esteemed Lady Director was now between your legs, looking up at you like you’re the whole purpose of the mission.

“No.” She stated, slowly rising toward you, capturing your lips in a soft kiss.

“Shame…” You murmured into the kiss, feeling Eva slide her tongue into your mouth before briefly pulling away, placing her index finger over your lips. “Shh, don’t interrupt me.”

You let out a small, breathy chuckle at her words before feeling her hand slither up under your shirt— another hour really wouldn’t hurt to spare…