Man, the bible fandom gets angry when i tell them that their blorbos (god and jesus) would actually be allies. But no, they are too obsessed with the fannon interpretation of them to see what iām saying from a canon pov.
at work we have a bartender named tyler and he collects wine corks so we put them in a little box for him and another bartender makes fun of him cause his tās look like lās so she wrote ālylerās corksā and i saw it this morning and i grabbed a marker and changed the ācā to a āgā
and after he left a bartender came up to me and said āaww lyler left his gorksā and i lost it
Hello people, i am currently stuck in the middle of a Bloody Mary hyperfixation :) So i bring to you, āØheadcannonsāØ
So, this headcannon is that Grace, Rocky, and Simon are all on the ace spectrum but all for different reasons. So.
Simon is on the ace spectrum because he canāt deal with any bodily fluids anymore and the thought of another personās fluids going into him just freaks him out (fun fact, that last part is part of why iām ace :D)
Rocky is ace by human standards because the eridian way of reproducing is more like some fish, where the reproductive materials are given to eachother like a gift and not while inside the body
Grace is ace (and probably aro as well) because he just has no interest in it. Heād rather be teaching kids than trying to make them. Also, he gets overstimulated badly quite easily and from what iāve heard sex can be quite stimulating.
All of these are just headcannons, but theyāre mine :)
Edit: i accidentally said Simon again instead of Grace š
Ryland perks up immediately at his name, phone hastily returned to his pocket like heās somehow ashamed of being caught poking around on it. As though there arenāt four other people in the waiting room doing exactly the same thing. Heās on his feet in a moment but blinking mute question at the young woman in scrubs thatās just stepped into the room, keeping the door open behind her with a splayed hand. Sheās all smiles (which seems fitting, he supposes) as she beckons him along.
āSimonās all through and awake now, everything went just fine,ā she explains, giving him another smile as she leads him down the white-tiled hall. Past an operatory on the left, now empty, and to a recovery room a couple doors down. Despite this being a fully normal, extremely routine procedure, Ryland feels a knot of quiet worry untie itself somewhere just south of his ribs. āGreat, thanks,ā he says with real gratitude. He feels a little bad he canāt remember the name this nice lady had given him during the pre-op, but heāll blame it on the nerves.Ā
Unbothered, she carries on down the hall and stops outside a closed door, one hand on the knob as the other counts off on her fingers what heās sure is a checklist in her head. āNo concerns on our end, no unexpected bumps in the procedure, but we need to have everyone hang around for a bit while the anesthesia wears off. Maybe half an hour and then heāll have his sea legs back so you wonāt have to carry him to the car.ā
Ryland nods along, and the woman knocks on the door and then opens it to step inside. āHey, Simon, itās me again,ā she calls, cheery as she lets them into the recovery room. āHow are you feeling?ā Ryland moves just through the threshold behind her and waits, feeling the door close against his back as a very rumpled voice answers with a, āHm, māfine.āĀ
Simonās mostly reclined in a slick-but-plush chair that seems standard fare for these sorts of things. Cushioned, but easily cleaned. Heās looking bleary, barely awake, hair a little mussed. More than usual, anyways.Ā
The lady steps across the room to the desk on the opposite wall and starts tapping away at the computer there, charting. āI brought a friend this time,ā she says to Simon, and beckons Ryland further into the room with another smile and a helpful flick of her head towards the bench seat below the window. Just next to where Simonās seated. āHeās going to wait with you until the doctorās ready to send you home.ā
Sufficiently introduced, Ryland makes for the bench and plops down, leaning forward to rest elbows on his knees. It angles him a bit more into Simonās space, letting him catch the other manās drowsy gaze. āHey, you,ā he greets, unable to hide his grin at just howā¦ rumpled Simon looks. He might even qualify as skrunkly. āThey gave you the good stuff, huh?ā
Itās a treat to watch the neurons in Simonās brain fire in slow-motion. And almost embarrassingly sweet, too, to watch recognition and immediate affection bloom across his face like a flower suddenly finding the sun.Ā
āBaby,ā Simon sighs out happily, lifting a hand and immediately reaching for Ryland. And, jeez, what choice does Ryland have but to take that hand in both of his own after apparently being worthy of that sort of greeting. He ducks his head to huff a soft laugh towards the tile floor, rubbing Simonās knuckles. And buying himself a second to deal with the brief overwhelm of unguarded affection Simon just hit him with.Ā
Simonās fingers curl around his, and Rylanās halfway through getting his heart wrangled back into place when Simon speaks again. But not to him. No, heās got his face angled towards the assistant finishing up with the chart notes. āThis is him,ā Simonās announcing happily at her, and Ryland should know somethingās up by the way he sees the woman trying very hard not to smile from the corner of his eye. But heās pretty well distracted when Simon turns back to him and heās suddenly the center of all Simonās formidable, if presently sleepy, attention.Ā
And, gosh, are his eyes always so soft?
āThis is the one I was telling you about,ā Simon continues, still half gone on anaesthetics but more than happy to carry on the conversation. āHeās my favorite. Iām definitely going to marry him.ā
Ryland wheezes out a breath like a dying chew toy, and drops his head to stare at the tiles again for a moment because he might actually combust if he has to stare down all that obvious affection writ plain on Simonās face and then act so normal about it in an oral surgery center.Ā
Heās giddy. And mortified. (A little voice in the depths of his brain helpfully pipes in that he should figure out what kind of rings he likes.) That might have been the cutest dang thing heās ever heard but also heās developing sudden acute tachycardia.Ā
Heās still holding Simonās hand in both his own, though. Heās not a monster.Ā
He squeezes. Simon squeezes back.
------
Theyāre given the go-ahead to get Simon home about thirty minutes later, when Simon proves he can ambulate without turning into a puddle. Ryland takes charge of the mandatory goodie bag and the informative packet of Doās and Donātās and sets about getting them out the building and into the car. Simonās a little wobbly, but heās mobile. Heās really choosing not to be, though, and opting instead to lean bodily on Ryland, a hand in his back pocket, as they try and make their way down the hall to the checkout desk.Ā
In the forty feet they need to cover, Simon informs his oral surgeon, a second dental assistant, and three innocent people in the lobby of his matrimonial intentions for his partner. Ryland has never felt more loved or more ready for the ground to swallow him up. Good golly, the horrors of being publicly adored.Ā
In the parking lot, Simonās about to make a proclamation to a family exiting their own vehicle two spaces down, and Ryland hiccups a half-manic laugh and quiets him with a peck on the cheek. Itās a decent distraction, at least. āCāmon, bug, letās get you home.āĀ
Simonās about as ungainly as a newborn fawn and presently made of velcro, but they get him into the passenger seat. Ryland hurries around and slips into the driverās side. Soon as he settles, thereās a hand grabbing gently onto the loose fabric of his sleeve. Simonās got an arm propped on the center console, fingers curled into the soft of his sweater, easy as coming home. Thereās nobody else heād rather drive home from appointments, pick up prescriptions for. Itās so easy, and Rylandās heart gives another squeeze.Ā
āCan we get smoothies?ā Simon asks, and the juxtaposition hauls a sudden laugh up from Rylandās chest.ā
āI think itād be best to get you home and comfy,ā he says, patting Simonās hand before fishing the car keys from his pocket. āYouāre going to want to sleep all this off as soon as the rest of that truth juice wears off. I think something blandās best for your stomach right now, too. Iāll go get you a smoothie tomorrow though if you still want one.ā
Simonās quiet for so long that it pulls Rylandās attention over, hand stalling at the ignition as he finds Simon to be justā¦ staring. Half melted back against the little corner formed by the passenger seat and the car door, his brows furrowed and eyes wet. It has Rylandās overworked heart in his throat for a moment, and he fumbles the car keys in his haste to reach over and put a reassuring hand on Simonās leg, thumb tracing the bend of his knee. āWhoah, hey, hon, you okay?ā
It makes Rylandās heart give a great rabbit-kick thump that he feels resonate against the back of his sternum. He can see Simonās ears gone pink where they peek out from the dark waves of his hair and feels his own burn in kind.
āYouāre gonna hang out with me tomorrow, too?ā Simon wonders aloud, totally awestruck. Completely twitterpated, his heart not even on his own sleeve but somehow all the way over on Rylandās. Tangled up in the fibers around Simonās fingers. His voice is rough and hushed, words cotton-clumsied around the gauze heās still dutifully biting but thereās a reverence in his tone while he stares at Ryland like he hung the moon. And Ryland feels like he could laugh or cry, like his joyās too big at the moment for his body to really know what to do with.Ā
ā¦ Mostly he wants to kiss Simon, but thatās probably off the table for a few days.Ā
Ryland settles for fishing the keys off the floor, getting the car pointed towards home, and then offering his hand to his partner to hold right there near the gearshift. āYeah, yep. Definitely going to hang out with you tomorrow. And like every day after that.ā
All I want is a fic where Simon meets Ryland and Rocky and his reaction amounts to jumping up and down and cheering āI WAS RIGHT!!! SUCK IT EDEN!!! I WAS RIGHT!!!!!! You bastards donāt know SHIT!!!!!!!ā
please it would be so funny. Simon āno one on Eden likes to think this way but doesnāt it make more sense if a few spaceships disappeared instead of everything elseā iron lung is feeling SO vindicated what.
Grace š¤ Simon <- having an unpopular theory bc you questioned something everyone else blindly believed
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