worm

Call me worm ★ no prefernce for pronouns ★ 21 yo ★ multi-fandom ★ I wanna try writting cute fluff fics ★ maybe post art ★ currently obsessed with phm ★ feel free to send an ideas you might want to see me draw

[cacoonedmoonworm]

Masterlist!

𖥔 Hi everyone! I'm worm and I like to write/draw fluff tickle stuff! I'm 21 yo and use any pronouns! This is a sfw blog! 𖥔

𖥔 Ngl, at least at the moment, I've only written for Project Hail Mary and Iron lung (Blood Mary specifically) but I might branch out at some point lmao! But feel free to send any requests/asks! I hope you all enjoy! 𖥔

PHM/Iron Lung Fics<3

(Oldest to Newest)

☆˖ִ Teaching Moment ── Lee!Grace / Ler!Rocky / Ler!Adrian

Summary: Grace is worried about what Adrian thinks of him and Rocky make sure Adrian knows how to cheer him up. Could be seen as platonic or ship!

☆˖ִ Massage ── Lee!Grace / Ler!Rocky

Summary: Grace is struggling with the physical toll of the trip to Erid. Rocky wants to help!

☆˖ִ It's Only Fair ── Lee!Rocky / Ler!Grace

Summary: Grace finds out Eridians can be ticklish too. He's very excited to get back at Rocky and hi-jinx ensue.

☆˖ִ Misunderstanding ── Lee!Grace / Ler!Adrian

Summary: Rocky is busy with a project and it puts Grace in a bad mood. A misunderstanding leads to Adrian cheering up Grace.

☆˖ִ Making Up for Lost Time ── Lee!Rocky / Ler!Adrian

Summary: Rocky is worried about Adrian and his relationship! Adrian is there to help!

☆˖ִ New Experience ── Lee!Grace / Ler!Pebbles

Summary: Grace gets to see pebbles for the first time while Rocky and Adrian babysit. ☆

☆˖ִ Heartbeat ── Switch!Grace / Switch!Pebbles

Summary: Grace is pebble-sitting by himself this time! The pebbles get worried they hurt Grace so he shows them what they actually did!

☆˖ִ Burden ── Lee!Grace / Ler!Adrian

Summary: This is set a little bit after Grace and Rocky get to Erid. In this one, Adrian is less then happy about the current situation pertaining to Grace, and its effects on there relationship with Rocky.

☆˖ִ Itchy Gills ── Lee!Simon / Ler!Grace / Ler!Rocky

Summary: This ask was based off of this little doodle/character sheet I did of Simon! Simon is having gill problems and Grace offers to help!

☆˖ִ Revenge ── Switch!Grace/ Switch!Grace / Switch!Rocky

Summary: Grace and Rocky are sick of all the tickling Adrian does so they plot a plan to get them back!

☆˖ִ Admission ── Lee!Simon / Ler!Rocky

Summary: Simon asks Rocky and simple question about why he treats Grace the way he does.

☆˖ִ 5 Second Head Start ── Lee!Grace/ Ler!Rocky / Ler!Simon

Summary: Rocky and Simon have gotten physically close over the past year and Grace definitely doesn't feel left out.

☆˖ִ Admissions Pt. 2 ── Lee!Rocky/ Ler!Simon + very brief Lee!Simon

Summary: Simon asks another simple question about giving affection rather than receiving affection.

𖥔 I hope you all enjoy! It genuinely does NOT feel like I've written this many wtf 𖥔

[duketod]

pt 1

[cocoa-critter]

I’M ILL. THEYRE SO SILLYYYYUHHHH :((((

[as-the-crows-feather-falls]

What if Grace and Rocky met @squirmyworm’s beloved little squirmles👀

[cacoonedmoonworm]

AHHHH THIS IS AMAZING!! So freaking cute omg

[cacoonedmoonworm]

More Simon to no one’s surprise

I like really wanted to draw some EXTRA mutated fish Simon and I hope you like it! I like the potential for fanfics with this au a LOT!

I like the whole, Grace exploring his body and it just tickles like hell! Of course I think Simon his very very reserved at first but when the only human in light years comes to you, FOR you by some miracle, you open up quick. I also think it would be interesting if he can’t talk anymore making the trust between them even more fragile, especially at first, maybe some mutation just messed up his vocal cords or (this part my be gross so sorry) during the mutating process his body pulled the body tissue, like his vocal cords, it deemed not worth keeping and used it to fuel another mutation instead.

I have a confession I don’t actually know a lot of the iron lung lore so my little headcanon story might not work lol but maybe Grace does get Simon’s distress call but when they get to the moon, there’s definitely destruction but no person or ship. After Grace is depressed bc he got his hopes up and they stop at a giant ocean planet for the opertunity for more water and that’s where they find Simon. Maybe the exposition was so powerful it jettisoned Simon to the nearby planet and that’s where he is now (idk I know it’s silly)

Feel free to share any ideas to make the story more cannon or just fun ideas in general you would want to see in the future!

PLEASE let me know if yall are interested in any fics with this au at all! I’m probably going to give writing one a try anyway! I hope you guys like it!!

[cacoonedmoonworm]

I was wondering why Grace looked so weird and now I realize it’s bc I forgot his facial hair :(

[cacoonedmoonworm]

More Simon to no one’s surprise

I like really wanted to draw some EXTRA mutated fish Simon and I hope you like it! I like the potential for fanfics with this au a LOT!

I like the whole, Grace exploring his body and it just tickles like hell! Of course I think Simon his very very reserved at first but when the only human in light years comes to you, FOR you by some miracle, you open up quick. I also think it would be interesting if he can’t talk anymore making the trust between them even more fragile, especially at first, maybe some mutation just messed up his vocal cords or (this part my be gross so sorry) during the mutating process his body pulled the body tissue, like his vocal cords, it deemed not worth keeping and used it to fuel another mutation instead.

I have a confession I don’t actually know a lot of the iron lung lore so my little headcanon story might not work lol but maybe Grace does get Simon’s distress call but when they get to the moon, there’s definitely destruction but no person or ship. After Grace is depressed bc he got his hopes up and they stop at a giant ocean planet for the opertunity for more water and that’s where they find Simon. Maybe the exposition was so powerful it jettisoned Simon to the nearby planet and that’s where he is now (idk I know it’s silly)

Feel free to share any ideas to make the story more cannon or just fun ideas in general you would want to see in the future!

PLEASE let me know if yall are interested in any fics with this au at all! I’m probably going to give writing one a try anyway! I hope you guys like it!!

[awkward---as---hell]

A Matter of Perspective

Dynamics: Lee!Grace, Ler!Rocky

Words: 3590

Summary:

When Ryland Grace is given the opportunity to teach on Erid, an elderly geology professor is asked to help bring that opportunity to life. Equal parts excited and nervous to meet the alien savior of their planet, they place him on a pedestal as a mythic, legendary being.

That pedestal begins to crack through a series of meetings, heartwarming conversations, a surprising display of immaturity, and one fascinating discovery: humans are ticklish. Who knew?

Author's Note: I did it! It's been over 13 years since I’ve written fanfiction, and this was perhaps a bit ambitious for easing back into it lol. This is a first person POV, which I’ve never done, and it's also from a POV of a character I made up, rather than a canon one. Worry not though, they merely serve as an observer and narrator of Grace and Rocky's shenanigans (though I have grown a bit fond of them). I HC that all Eridians use they/them, thus thats what the professor uses for Rocky, while Grace uses He/Him when referring to Rocky bc thats just what he’s used to.

———

“Savior Grace has expressed an interest in teaching,” says Shale, the president of the university’s executive board. 

I put down some sediment samples I was planning to show my graduate students. “Oh? I think that’s a fantastic idea. Many of our students would jump at that chance, even several of mine.” 

“I agree,” Shale replies. “That’s why I’m gathering the board, and plan to go to Savior Grace's home to discuss details.” They turn their carapace to focus on me more. “I’d like you to come as well, if you're able.”

There’s a tone in their voice that sounds almost pleading. I’m no longer on the board, but I was once the president myself, when I was younger. Shale was once a graduate student of mine, and is the youngest president the university has seen. They are a very intelligent Eridian and do the job exceptionally well, despite their age, but I know they sometimes worry about their performance. They often come and ask me for advice. 

“Of course I’ll go, if you want me. I don’t know if I’ll have much input over the curriculum, as I recall Savior Rocky mentioning Savior Grace is a molecular biologist. But I’ll offer my support where I can.” I can’t say that meeting an alien doesn't also intrigue me greatly. 

To say Savior Grace's arrival caused a tizzy would be the understatement of the century. The ‘Taumoeba’ he and Rocky brought home was the solution to the astrophage crisis and saved our home from a tragedy. That’s cause for excitement enough, but Savior Grace being an alien from another star system? It’s not something I’d thought to ever see in my 574 years alive. The confirmation of the universe having other intelligent beings fills me with awe and a sense of wonder that makes me feel decades younger.

His arrival also brought on the second biggest thrum the planet has seen. Around this time my mate was suggesting I retire, like they have, and close the long book of my time as a geologist and eventual professor. But the importance and allure of this thrum called to me, so I put off retirement in favor of attending, hoping my wisdom and experience could be of use. 

It turned out that I could offer support, and used my background in geology to help find the perfect location where Savior Grace's biodome was built. Other teams of engineers and architects built his home, and we had more teams of scientists to develop nutritable food, and before long Savior Grace was thriving again. Thriving enough to pursue teaching! What an incredible opportunity for the university students, he must be full of much wisdom and knowledge. 

———

Shale, myself, and the university board begin to travel to Savior Grace’s home. I am definitely feeling my age now; my joints are stiff and I move slower than my companions as we near the biodome. I can almost hear the sound of my mates teasing in my mind, saying things like ‘See? Bet you regret not retiring now, you old geezer!’ 

The thoughts of my mate help distract me from my mounting nervousness for a moment. Well, nervous was not exactly the feeling, and neither was excitement, though that was closer to it. It’s hard to describe; I’ve only heard information about Savior Grace through others, and he simply feels like science fiction come to life. Ultimately, I feel overawed at the prospect of being in the same space as a living legend. 

Finally, we all make it inside the biodome and into one of the various meeting locations inside it. Savior Grace quickly stands up from his seated position at our arrival, and he is very tall. I’m close enough now to hear all the details of his strange anatomy. And standing beside him is Savior Rocky, what a pleasant surprise! 

Savior Rocky greets me before I can address the two of them. 

“Ah, Professor! I didn’t know you would be here as well. It’s so good to hear you!” They lower their two front legs and tip their carapace downwards; it’s a formal bow, usually reserved for elders, especially learned ones. I didn’t expect it, but it is no less appreciated. Rocky was always very respectful towards me. 

“The same goes for you, Savior Rocky,” I reply. “I want to say, I’m so proud of you and all you’ve accomplished since being in my classroom.” 

They let out a short, staccato-y laugh. “You don’t have to call me that, Professor, just Rocky is fine. And I can’t take all the credit—Grace did just as much, if not more, during our mission.” They lean their carapace into Savior Grace's legs. 

Savior Grace turns his head towards me, and the folds on his face stretch and upturn. What a peculiar body language, I hope it means something good. 

“Wow, it’s an honor to meet one of Rocky's teachers!” He says. I don’t speak his strange language but the translator we brought works wonderfully. Then, Savior Grace bends at the middle, lowering his head. This must be his version of a bow! The alien savior of our planet is showing respect to me. I feel something in me loosen. It is difficult to reconcile such a humble gesture with the larger-than-life figure I've been imagining.

“Rocky is an incredible engineer, you’ve taught him well,” Savior Grace continues. 

I trill a short laugh myself. “Thank you, Savior Grace, but I’m afraid I only taught them a basic geology 1 course. Rocky's engineering skills are credited to their other professors and Rocky’s own genius.” 

“Oh!” He exclaims. “I understand. Well, it’s still very nice to meet you.” He uses one hand to grip his opposite arm, and does a small shuffle in place. A gesture of shyness, perhaps? “And you don’t have to call me Savior as well, Professor,” he continues. “I was just doing what needed to be done.”

I whir a low, contemplative note. “I suppose that is true, though please know your efforts are much appreciated. I will heed your request, Grace.” His facial folds upturn once again and now bare the bones inside. 

It is then that Shale walks up next to me, and the rest of the board behind them. 

“Ah! Apologies, we have things to discuss. This is Shale, the president of the university’s executive board, and the board members.” I say. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Savior Grace, and you as well, Savior Rocky,” Shale says warmly. Grace nods his head to Shale, and lightly nudges Rocky with his leg when they trill a quiet, amused note at the honorifics that they seem stuck with. “We look forward to having you teach at the university. I understand your background is in molecular biology; would you like to teach this subject, or perhaps another one?” 

“Oh, uh…” He hesitates, and does another shuffle. “Actually, I was hoping to teach children, if that’s alright. Back on earth, that was actually my job, and I miss it a lot.” 

Huh, I wasn’t expecting that but it no less has me charmed. I think it’s a much more noble cause for one’s dream to teach children, and guide the future generations. And even so, that’s not even why Grace wants to do it (well, perhaps that is a small factor). He simply misses it; it is such an ordinary and personal answer that it further cracks the mythic image I have of Grace. 

Shales carapace lowers slightly, disappointed. They quickly recover though, schooling their body language into one of nonchalance. “I understand… I believe we can work something out, no worries. I’ll have to bring those in charge of adolescent education, and we can discuss with them.” They perk up slightly, “and if you ever did want to visit the university and perhaps speak about your experiences a bit, I’m sure our students would love it.” 

Grace lets out a sound that is high pitch and airy, and his facial folds again upturn. It doesn’t sound like any of the words I have been hearing, so I assume this is what his laughter sounds like, and the facial folds upturning must mean something good if it accompanies it. “Sure!” He says, “I don’t know what I’d say, but I am very curious about what an Eridian university looks like!” 

———

The next few weeks flew by. Shale, Grace, and the adolescent education board met often to discuss all the aspects that go into him teaching. Rocky attended occasionally. I attended the meetings too, not that my advice was needed all the time, but more so I found myself growing fonder of Grace. 

More often than not I would stay after the various meetings and chat with him. We bonded over various scientific subjects, discussing our respective cultures, or even ordinary everyday things. He confirmed that the bright, airy sound was indeed laughter, and over time I began noticing more of his little habits. He fidgeted often—bouncing a leg while thinking and twirling his glasses between his fingers while speaking. He would ask after my mate and our many grandchildren, and I would inquire about the friendships he was forming here. Slowly, during the course of our conversations, I felt my sense of awe dim, and the feeling of equalness grow.

Now, there was just one last meeting to attend, and I honestly did not know why we were having it. All the details have been settled; the curriculum chosen, the students selected, and the classroom built beautifully (Rocky had insisted upon taking the reins on that front). Yet Ted, a middle-aged and, in my opinion, slightly pretentious Eridian on the board, had insisted upon one final meeting. Naturally, they were the one leading it as well.

I’m unsure how many of us gathered are actually paying attention at this point. Ted has been droning on for well past the typical length we meet for, and my attention has definitely been slipping. Grace, for his part, seems to be following along—nodding his head occasionally, and is the picture of professionalism. He answers the questions Ted poses with politeness, even if these questions have already been answered in prior meetings. But it’s clear to me that he is getting bored, as I’ve come to know the signs. Now, he's twirling his glasses in his fingers, which isn’t abnormal for him, but his head is angled downward as well. With his light receptors focused on the glasses, I know his attention certainly isn’t on Ted.

Ted, however, seems blissfully unaware of Grace's waning interest, and drones on. Even Rocky, who’s sitting beside Grace, is absentmindedly drawing lazy shapes in the dirt.

I attempt to bring my attention back to Ted, who hasn’t paused in their speech for awhile now. I'm thinking to myself that I have to at least give Ted credit for their passion on this when I notice Grace shift in the edge of my perception. My attention slips from Ted again as I focus on him instead.

He's stopped twirling his glasses and is sitting up straight and rigid now, which doesn’t appear comfortable at all. For a brief moment I wonder if Ted has said something to upset him, but no, they're still rattling on about the same topic. 

A moment later I notice more movement; Rocky lifts their claw and jabs it gently into Grace’s fleshy side. I can’t imagine why they would do that, especially when it makes Grace even more rigid and his grip tightens on his glasses a fraction. 

My confusion only grows as Rocky starts repeating the motion, aiming jabs at Grace’s side that start low but slowly climb up his body. Each jab is accompanied by a twitch and Grace getting even stiffer. When Rocky reaches the crease where Grace's arm meets his body, Grace takes in a sharp breath and starts leaning away from his friend. 

Is Rocky hurting him? The touch is so light, it would barely register with an Eridian, but perhaps humans are different. Even so, I find it hard to believe Rocky would intentionally harm Grace, but maybe they don’t realize what they're doing. 

I should say something, and I’m about to, when Rocky changes tactics. Instead of jabbing, they begin tracing repeatedly over the area where Grace’s arm meets his body, the same shapes they were tracing in the dirt moments before. 

Grace’s mouth forms a smile. I have learned what both the anatomy and behavior are called during our chats and that it means amusement, but I do not understand why he is smiling if the touch bothers him. Maybe he doesn’t actually mind, but that still wouldn’t explain why he's leaning away, and now grabbing at Rocky’s claw with his hand. 

Suddenly, Ted, who I’ve almost forgotten about, pauses their blabbering and turns towards Grace. “And what do you think, Savior Grace?” 

“Huh—What?” Grace says, suddenly put on the spot and lets go of Rocky’s claw. He fidgets in place before replying unsteadily. “Oh. Uh, yes that’s all very good. Great.” 

“Wonderful!” Ted says and goes right back into their lecture. Rocky chips a small laugh, and continuing the pattern, goes back to poking at Grace. 

Grace’s twitching unfolds into full on squirming, and another smile tugs at his lips, seemingly against his will, if the way he bites it to keep it from growing is any indication. 

“Rocky!” Grace whispers so the translator can't pick up his speech. “Stop tickling!” I’ve gotten to learn many English words at this point, but I don’t recognize this last one. I decide Grace and Rocky are infinitely more interesting than our meeting currently and resign myself to fully pull my attention away from it to instead study the two of them. 

Rocky’s changing their strategy once again. Now they have a hand fully resting on Grace’s side, and are slowly and randomly squeezing it. Grace has his lips firmly pressed together but despite his efforts he's wearing a large, strained smile. Another firm squeeze higher up on his torso has a hand slapping over his mouth, and his shoulders start shaking. I’ve learned that happens a lot when he laughs, however I hear no laughter. 

Wait a moment… 

A hypothesis is forming in my mind that is immediately confirmed when Rocky sneakily adds a second hand, quickly using both to suddenly and rapidly squeeze hard, and then pull away just as quickly. It makes Grace let out one muffled but high-pitch laugh, and his glasses fall from his other hand and into the dirt. 

Images of my grandchildren enter my mind, giggling and wrestling on the floor of my home, knocking their knuckles against each other's carapaces roughly. These two highly respected and intelligent adults are tickling each other like children. During a meeting. It’s a comparison that puts the final nail in the coffin of my old perception of Grace. Gone is the image of history in physical form. In its place stands this version of Grace: simply a person. Someone who loves equal parts learning and teaching. Someone I consider a friend and colleague. Someone who is struggling to suppress laughter while Rocky relentlessly exploits a weakness. 

Technically, this is inappropriate for a meeting, and I should put a stop to it. Yet my disapproval never quite materializes. My changed perception of Grace, combined with the fascinating realization that humans can be ticklish—and that Grace is rather susceptible—proves far more compelling. I’ll allow these playful antics, for now.

Ted takes this moment to tilt their carapace back towards Grace and I wonder if they're going to address the silliness unfolding during their meeting. 

“—And I think the only logical unit to follow the geology subject would be the earth science subject. What are your thoughts, Savior Grace?” Ted says. Ah, it seems they actually haven’t noticed the laughter or the fact that Grace's professionalism is unraveling before them. 

“Uh–um!” Grace responds, and his voice is an octave higher than it normally is. He clears his throat and goes to try again, but is distracted when Rocky picks up Grace’s fallen glasses and places them in his lap. I suppose that’s meant to be a friendly gesture, but it’s significantly undercut by Rocky then placing that hand on Grace's knee, and the man in question tenses visibly. It seems that must be a sensitive spot, and Rocky knows it.

“Th–thahat—!” Grace tries again but cuts himself off with a cough in an attempt to mask the titters poking through his last shreds of decorum. Rocky is using a strong grip to randomly pinch at the knee joint, and it makes Grace's leg jerk each time. 

“That sounds p–perfect, Ted. I have—hah!” Another laugh escapes, and he takes his hand and clamps it over his friends where it tickles his knee. “Uh, I have no—heh! No n–notes!” That last part rushes out through a wheeze, and he's trying to nonchalantly pull Rocky’s hand off that effective tickle spot to no avail. The smile on his face is wobbly as he attempts to suppress it, but that effort fails too. 

Ted chirps a quick “Great!” and resumes talking. 

Eventually Rocky takes mercy, in a way. They remove the hand from Grace's knee and go back to tormenting his side, again tracing teasing shapes along his skin. This seems more manageable to Grace, who now only lets out soft huffs here and there, squirming significantly reduced. 

I can’t help but notice that Grace isn’t trying that hard to stop this, truly. Yes, he's muffling his laughter, squirming and leaning away, but he could easily scooch away and out of Rocky’s reach. No, he's having fun. They both are. 

The fun continues as Rocky moves spots again. They make their touch even lighter and resume their shape tracing but around Grace's neck and ears. Grace lets out a full on squeak, and clamps both hands over his mouth while his shoulder crashes up to protect that area. That does nothing to deter Rocky, who’s now chittering quiet giggles at their friends' reactions and continues teasing that area. This is a very ticklish spot; even with both hands over his mouth it can't stop the high pitch giggles from leaking through Grace's fingers. 

His whole torso is now shaking with the effort to contain the building mirth, and his smile must be very large under his hands because it makes his eyes and nose scrunch. The giggles are so high pitched it reminds me of my youngest grandchildren’s coos and nonsensical babble while they're learning to talk. It’s adorable. 

But the fun has to end eventually; this is still an ‘important’ meeting after all. The blatant noise and commotion now coming from Rocky and Grace's side of the meeting is making Shale shift beside me, as well as a few of the other board members. I suspect Shale's known for a bit what’s been occurring, they’ve always been very perceptive. 

Shale’s tapping one of their claws gently against the ground, the only sign of their disapproval. Yet, they don’t say anything to correct Grace and Rocky. Who are they to scold the saviors of the planet? 

I don’t have such qualms, not anymore. 

I stand up a little straighter and gently raise my voice. “Colleagues, if we could please give Ted our attention while they close out this meeting?” That last part was directed at Ted too, a sign to please hurry up. 

Rocky snaps their hand back to their own space. I actually hear Grace's heart skip a beat as he inhales sharply and scoots a respectable distance away from his friend. It's so reminiscent of my grandchildren, so I can't be truly upset. 

They both mutter out similar versions of an apology, though Grace sounds more embarrassed while Rocky sounds considerably less sorry. The two of them sit still and attentive for the rest of the meeting. 

———

Ted finally finishes their speech and the meeting ends. Some board members approach me with a final remark or two about the project, and I say a quick farewell to Shale. In the distance, I hear Grace slap Rocky's arm gently and hiss out “Dude! You embarrassed me in front of the team!” 

Rocky only laughs and replies, “What, It was funny!” which only makes Grace grumble more. “Besides, they were just as bored as you were,” they tease. 

It’s time I join in on the fun. I move over to where they are and say teasingly, “I assume you’ll approach your lessons with a bit more maturity than your students, right Grace?” 

Grace tilts his head down sheepishly and smiles softly. “Of course, Professor. So sorry about that. That was childish of me.” He glances down at Rocky, who goes to lean against his legs again as if they hadn’t caused any mischief at all. 

“Of both of us,” Grace amends. He gives Rocky a gentle shove with his leg to remove them. It makes Rocky chirp out a short laugh instead. 

I hum a low note that has an edge of laughter. “I mostly jest, Grace. It was entertaining to watch, if not fascinating as well. I didn’t know humans could be ticklish; we should definitely discuss this more during one of our little chats.” 

Grace uses a hand to rub the back of his neck and stumbles a bit over his next words. “R-right. We can do that, Professor.” 

“I’d be happy to provide a demonstration any time, Professor!” Rocky adds helpfully. 

Grace gives them a proper shove this time. 

———

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think, or if you have any suggestions. I crave feedback lol. and I also love just casual chats as well <3

also bonus brownie points to the person who guesses where I got the name Ted from for the pretentious eridian lol

-Dakota

[plumaluneee]

Hehehe.. since requests are uh open.. anything w switch! Grace and switch!Rocky bc I love to see everyone's fav space blond all giggly but there's also so little lee Rocky.. so why not get the best of both if you're willing :3 /nf

If you don't feel like doing that just Lee Grace is fine hehe ^^

YES there is so little lee Rocky he needs to be knocked down a sassy peg or two sometimes please take this platter of zero gravity tickles

I headcanon that Rocky’s laughter just translates to just random chords and his habit of repeating words for emphasizing is just like.. tenfold

Also excuse any typos it is currently 3 am here 

[cocoa-critter]

If you’re interested in ideas for Simon’s terrible horrible no good very bad day fic, maybe something where he’s ashamed/hates his mutations, specifically the ones on his face? Cause I can’t stop thinking about him getting so angry with how he looks that he tried to yank out the teeth with pliers. Don’t know how successful he’d be but he’d damn sure try. I get that it’s a pretty heavy topic & you might wanna pass on it, but just thought I’d share! I’ve been LOVING all your fics!

ABSOLUTELY I’LL WRITE THIS.

Yo this is SUCH a peak suggestion ohhh my god,,, I love me a dark heavy topic to write about, I NEVER mind!!’

ALSO TYSM FOR ALL THE LOVE!! I always love seeing your little notes on your reblogs TEEHEE

Tooth & Nail

This one’s dark, gang. Not the whole time, of course, but hot mama this was a hell of a write- LMAO.

I feel like I apologize for something every time I post but whatever bruh. I’M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. a lot came up while writing, I had to cut and rewrite a lot of it… I’m afraid it might be a little disjointed?? But maybe I’m overthinking… anyway, as usual, there will probably be typos. I’m blind, siIIIGH.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Lee!Simon (Iron Lung) Ler!Grace (PHM)

TW’s: heavy mentions of blood, depiction of a severe mental break, self harm, teeth, and the removal of them, swearing

❦ Simon cannot stand the appearance of his new mutations, nor the discomfort they cause. Attempting to take matters into his own hands, he leaves Grace to pick up the pieces, which thankfully, he’s more than willing to do.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Half the battle of recovering after physical trauma is the physiological condition.

The human body can find a way to function, even under the most obscure circumstances. With enough time, life will find a way to persist.

It may not look the same as it did before… smooth lines become jagged, even tones become blotchy…

But cells, blood, muscle, organs, and skin don’t care about how they look. Life in a body is about utility, not aesthetics.

As true as all of this is, ithe words fall meaninglessly flat to someone who may be physically healed, but not entirely emotionally.

Words can only go so far…

-

“Don’t pick at your skin, Si, you’ll irritate it.”

I mutter, hunched over a hunk of metal I was in the middle of clumsily dismantling, removing hammed screws with nothing but thick, hooked pliers and hope.

“It’s itching.”

I look up to see where Simon was scratching, since I’d only responded to the sound before.

His hand, clawed and rigid against the marred half of his face, raked at the skin around the split that gave way for long, sharp teeth protruding from the back of his upper and lower jaw, across almost to his canines.

I nod slowly. “Yeah, that area’s gonna be a little sensitive for a while. Still, don’t mess with it.”

“It’s been months- everything’s done healing… it’s just this stupid face thing!”

“Well, the skin on your face had to stretch and break in… kinda unconventional ways to accommodate your new teeth, so your body’s still acclimating.”

“God I hate these stupid fuckin’ things.”

“Your teeth?”

Simon grunts in reply, leaning back in his chair. There was a resentful darkness in his eyes.

“Why? I think they’re awesome!”

“You think everything’s awesome.”

“Somethin’ wrong with that? I’m a positive guy, what can I say.”

Simon rolls his eyes. “They make everything 10,000 times more difficult. Eating, talking - I bite my tongue like… five times an hour… and they’re just hideous- I mean- why on the outside of my face?!”

“Hey, hey - first of all they’re not hideous, don’t say stuff like that. You’re just not fully used to them yet. As for everything else, that’s just dental recovery, bud. I mean, yours is a special case, sure, but all your symptoms are normal!”

“How the fuck would you know?”

I smile, setting the pliers down.

“When I was in my 20’s I had to get my wisdom teeth taken out. All four of ‘em. I knew it was important, I knew I had to do it, but you wanna know what I did?”

Simon tries to look disinterested, but he takes the bait.

“What.”

“I waited. Years. Like, four years. I was in excruciating pain all the time, they were growing in crooked, and bashing into other teeth and impacting them- oh it was a nightmare. Once I finally bit the bullet and got them all removed, and got all the teeth I messed up in the process fixed, you wanna know how long it took for me to fully heal up?”

“…How long…”

“Two. Years. Two years! My jaw was so sore and jacked up the first six months alone, my brother had to feed me soup like a baby. I couldn’t talk, eat, sleep comfortably, or use a straw for at least 3/4 of that time. And I managed to give myself a dry socket at some point too… beside the point. What I’m saying is, I get it. It’s normal. And my dental work was internal.”

“…Why the hell did you wait so long?”

“I’m scared of the dentist- is that really what you gleaned from my story? My dentophobia?”

“Is that a word?”

“I promise it is.” I chuckle, reaching across the table to catch Simon’s hand before he instinctively scratches at his face again.

He groans. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, just be careful.” I smile, releasing his hand, and going back to my work.

Simon nods slowly.

“It’d be so much easier if I could just-“ he snaps his fingers. “Get rid of them. Have a symmetrical face again…”

He sighs, carefully watching me pull and yank at old nails, wiggling them out slowly but surely.

“Symmetry is so overrated. You’ve got character this way. I would have killed to look that cool as a kid.” I smile.

Simon hums softly.

I take a look at the clock mounted on the lab wall. It’s getting to be evening - not that it matters in space anyway.

“Why don’t I make us some ramen?” I suggest, sitting upright on my stool. “It’s soft and easy to eat. Won’t irritate your jaw.”

Simon chuckles. “Everything we eat out here is soft.”

“Wrong. You ever try uncooked ramen?”

“Raw?!”

“Yeah, with the seasoning backet sprinkled over it? It’s great! It’s like a bag of chips’l

“Euch…”

“Oh come on, it’s the same thing as cooked ramen, just dehydrated! It’s not bad!”

Simon wrinkles his nose.

“Whatever, hater. Go wash up while I get supper ready.”

-

It’s been fifteen minutes…

Thankfully our soup was well insulated in the food heating system, so I wasn’t nexissarily worried about dinner getting cold.

I was concerned about what could possibly be taking so long.

“Grace!”

“Woah-! Rocky! Hey bud- w-where have you been? I haven’t seen you for hours.”

I’d been so lost in thought I hadn’t even heard Rocky’s thundering hamster ball careening down the hall… somehow.

“Rocky working up in cockpit.”

“On what..?”

“Third chair. Rocky make chair for Rocky!”

I tilt my head, hands on my hips.

“You already had a chair, buddy- yours was the copilot seat. What, you don’t wanna be my copilot anymore?”

“Rocky still copilot. Two copilots now! Rocky give human chair to Simon, and Rocky build new chairthat can accommodate ball!”

I smile. Honestly, that’s really sweet of him.

“Ohhh Rocky that’s really nice of you to give your old chair to Simon, I’m sure he’ll really appreciate it.”

“Good good good.”

Roxky shifts around proudly in his ball, trilling softly.

“Speaking of Simon… he’s taking forever to come up to eat.”

“Why, question?”

“I dunno! I sent him down to wash up almost 20 minutes ago…”

Rocky stands still, a stream of clicks echoing through the hamster ball.

“Rock, you don’t have to spy on him I’m sure he’s alright-“

“Rocky see Simon in bathroom in dorm.”

“W-what? Still?”

“Sitting on floor, statement.”

My heart sinks. “On the floor?”

Rocky trills in reply.

“Cannot see much else. Very still.”

“Like- alive still? Or passed out still?”

“Cannot tell, statement.”

I hufff, hesitating for a moment, before starting off to the dorm.

“Rocky come too, question?”

“N-no bud, you stay up here for now. I’ll call if I need you. I don’t wanna overwhelm him.” I call over my shoulder as I jog through the lab to the hatch.

I pass the table I had been sitting at with Simon e just a little while ago. Everything was, for the most part, in place…

But my pliers were missing…

-

“Simon? Simon! Where are you, man?! Your noodles are getting cold!”

…no reply.

I crawl down the ladder, doing my best to be as quiet as I can.

“Simon..?” I reach the landing, standing still, waiting for any sign of life.

There’s a rustle from the bathroom. Found him.

“I’m coming in, bud… just- just a warning…”

“N-no…”

I freeze. That’s Simon’s voice for sure, but he sounds different… weak, maybe.

“Not an option.” I don’t mean to sound as stern as I do.

I take a deep breath, and approach the open bathroom, knocking on the wall to announce myself before turning the corner.

Oh my god… oh my god oh my god…

“H-holy crap- Simon?!”

The hunched, heaving figure in the corner doesn’t reply.

I can see red, but I can’t see the source. It’s on him, there’s some streaked on the floor, and he’s got his hands clenched by his face.

He’s got something.

“SIMON-! Simon, drop it, NOW!”

I shout, rushing into the room barely large enough for one person, let alone two.

I nearly slip on a small, slick puddle of blood, steadying myself on either wall, before dropping down in front of Simon, who I’m not even sure is fully aware that I’m here.

He’s breathing heavily, so much so that he’s growling upon every exhale. His eyes are wide, looking through me, rather than at me, both hands, real and prosthetic, grotesquely sparkling with blood, wrapped around some kind of tool.

My pliers.

The blood’s coming from his mouth… the teeth on the side of his face.

“Simon, listen to me… drop the pliers. Now.” I plead with him, desperately trying to keep my voice calm and even.

I want to reach for the pliers, but any number of things could happen if I make the wrong move here.

I could jab him in the face, I could accidentally aid in removing whatever he’s got a hold on - anything could happen. My safest bet was to talk him down.

“Simon. Can you hear me? I need to know that you can hear me.” I shuffle closer to him. My knees streaked red, but I don’t care.

I carefully raise my hands, opting to take Simon by the shoulders in an attempt to ground him.

“I’m here to help you - I’m not here to do anything but help you.”

“You can’t help me.”

“Yes I can! Let me try!”

“There’s NOTHING YOU CAN DO.”

He lurches at me, and I tumble backwards, landing on my elbows.

Simon lets go of the pliers with the stronger, xenonite hand, using it to prop himself up above me. That’s progress. He’s only holding them with his thumb and two fingers now…

“Simon-“

“NOTHING.” He grits through his teeth, blood dribbling down his chin, landing like raindrops on my thankfully red shirt.

“Try me, Simon! I can’t help you if you don’t tell me how I can!” I can feel my heart pounding through my chest.

“I want them gone.” Simon’s voice is deep, manic.

“You want what gone…?”

He grips the pliers tighter.

“Y-your teeth! Ok, understood, you’ve want them gone…”

“I look like a monster…”

“No, you don’t, I promise you don’t…”

“I want it all gone, Grace… I want the gills gone, I want my face back… I want these fuckin… teeth…”

He sits up, gripping the pliers with both hands again, eyes squeezing shut.

“NO-! NO NO, SIMON, STOP!” I sit up, grabbing Simon’s wrists, desire my better judgment.

“I JUST WANNA BE NORMAL AGAIN. I DON’T WANT TO BE UNCOMFORTABLE ALL THE FUCKING TIME.” His voice breaks, slurred through his gritted teeth.

“OKAY, T-THAT’S REASONABLE! JUST- LET GO SO WE CAN TALK!” I plead, doing my best to pull his arms outward to release pressure on whatever tooth he’s got a hold on.

“WHY DOES IT FUCKIN’ MATTER TO YOU?! YOU DON’T KNOW THE HALF OF THE PAIN I’M CONSTANTLY IN.”

“EXPLAIN IT TO ME, SIMON! I’M ASKING TO UNDERSTAND!” I shout, putting everything I have into dislodging the pliers.

Simon is much stronger than I am, especially on adrenaline.

Brute force alone isn’t enough… I have to think of something else.

I look at my hand, streaked with Simon’s blood, and I have an idea. Understanding the risk of injury to myself, and more importantly, to Simon, but it’s my best shot.

I weigh my options, deciding it’s worth a try.

I loosen my grip with my left hand, letting Simon gain control of the pliers. I ease up with my right hand as well, lowering the resistance between us.

I swipe my hand upward, as though I slipped, sliding my palm against the hook of the pliers, hissing in “pain” and yanking both my hands away, holding my left tight.

“AH-! Crap-!” I wince, looking down at my unscathed hand, groaning and hunching over.

“GRACE-!” As I’d hoped, Simon’s attention diverts to me, and he reaches a hand out to me, lowering the pliers with the other.

I grab his arm tight, yanking him towards me, flipping both of us over, landing Simon on his back, stunned.

Both my hands find Simon’s wrists, pinning them to the floor. The xenonite elbow joint hisses and clicks in protest, and I make a note to take a look at the damage is no doubt caused later.

“Drop the pliers.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“NOW. DROP THEM.” I shout.

Simon winces, opening his hand, letting the bloody tool fall to the ground.

I flick them away with two fingers, and they skitter across the floor, out of Simon’s reach.

“How much damage is there.”

“Get o-“

“Answer my questions, or I will put you under and look for myself.”

“Is that a treat?”

“It’s a promise. What did you do with the pliers, Simon?”

“…two.”

“Jesus…”

“They were coming out anyway.”

“What?!0

“They were already loose.”

“You can regenerate teeth?!”

“Yes.”

“What..? Whatever, Fine, fine- then why are you bleeding so much?!”

“They weren’t completely loose.”

I can feel my stomach turn.

“Let me see.”

Simon narrows his eyes at me.

“I’m trying to help you, let me see the extractions, so I know how I can help you.”

He hesitates.

“Open.”

Slowly, Simon loosens his jaw, opening his mouth. The left side opens just a little wider to account for the extra teeth behind what used to be his molars.

I can see two, dark, reddish black sockets among the spiked teeth. They weren’t too big, nut they weren’t the cleanest extractions either.

The surrounding tissue was red, swollen, and littered with pokes and nicks from the pliers - failed attempts to grip onto a tooth.

I grab Simon’s chin, tilting his head to catch the low light at a few different angles, making sure I haven’t missed anything.

“Two extractions, no fragmented teeth left behind … minor abrasions in the gums and surrounding tissue…” I sigh, releasing Simon’s face.

Simon rests his head back on the floor, closing his mouth again, and I sit up on his hips, taking a long breath.

“That the fuck were you thinking?!”

“Woah-“ Simon flinches, looking up at me like I’m out of my mind.

“Do you have any idea how much danger you could have put yourself in?! Any idea at all?!”

“…”

“What if you struck a larger vein? W-what if you gave yourself some crazy infection that neither myself nor Armando could handle?!”

“Gracie, I-“

“There’s a nonzero chance that you could’ve… I-… how many… never mind.”

“What?”

“Nothing, never mind, I do t wanna know.”

“What were you gonna ask? You want me to talk things out, let’s start here.” Simon says softly.

“Fine. How many times have you done this? How many times, while I have been busy, sleeping, or otherwise occupied, have you been down here mutilating yourself to make yourself less of a monster that you never were to begin with?!”

“…Never.”

“Bull.”

“I promise, Ryland, I’m being honest.”

“You’re not just saying that because the teeth have grown back, and if never know the difference?”

“No.”

I sigh, nodding my head slowly.

“Please don’t ever do this again.”

“Okay…”

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

“You scared the hell out of me.”

“…I’m sorry.”

“No… no, don’t be sorry, it’s selfish of me to make this about how I feel- c’mon, sit up.”

I scoot myself back, freeing Simon’s legs from under mine, and he sits up slowly.

The moment he’s upright, I reach out, and pull him into a hug. The tightest I’d ever held him.

Simon’s hands find my back, holding me just as tight, his head buried in my shoulder.

“Are you in pain?”

“Not really… just sore.”

“Adrenaline…”

“No…”

“No?”

“No, remember I said they were already on their way out? Besides the initial… resistance, there was barely any pain. Kinda like a paper cut. Doesn’t hurt a lot, bleeds like a gunshot.”

“Okay- Simon you don’t have to explain this to me right now- we can do this later.” I pat him on the back a few times.

“It’s find. Talking through it helps. R emember the eel tooth I gave you?” Simon pulls back from the hug, and points to the xenonite pendant on my chest with a tilt of his head.

I look down as well, lifting the pendant in the palm of my hand to take a closer look at it.

“See how the root is shorter? Thats exactly how my teeth look. They’re not embedded as deeply as human teeth are.”

He’s got a point. At the top of the curved, saber tooth, is a short, flat root, barely half an inch long.

“Fair enough… ok, fair enough.” I let the pendant drop back down to my chest. “Shouldn’t be too hard to patch you up then… c’mon.”

I release Simon, and stand up, brushing the wrinkles from my shirt.

“But… The bathroom- I- shouldn’t I clean this up first?”

“I’ll handle it later.”

“Grace, I fucked everything up in here, I can clean it myself.”

I sigh shaking my head. “I said I’ll handle it later. I really don’t want you in here by yourself any more than absolutely necessary. It’s fine, I scrubbed the whole ship clean of ocean blood, I can handle half of a half bath.” I extend my hand down to Simon, with a thin lipped smile.

He hesitates for a moment, opening his mouth as if to protest. He thinks better of it, nodding, and accepting my hand. 



-

“Okay, swish this around and spit it back out.”

“Why do I have to spit it out?”

“It’s salt water with peroxide.”

“What-? Is that safe?”

“What’re you worried about safety for? Didn’t you tell me you drank isopropyl alcohol?”

“Same thing as the stuff you drink.”

“…vodka? Ethanol? No, not the same at all. A-anyway, yes, peroxide is perfectly safe fo sterilization purposes. It’s just water with an extra hydrogen atom. H2O2. It will upset your stomach if you swallow it though, especially mixed with salt and blood.”

I hand Simon a warm plastic cup, and he takes it, covering the toothy half of his face with a hand, sealing any gaps as he swishes the water around.

He winces - fron the sting of the salt in the extraction site, and whatever little nicks and cuts he’d made around his mouth, I imagine - and spits the now bright scarlet solution back into the cup.

“Yeah… doesn’t feel great, I know. But it’ll keep the area clean. I’m gonna have you do that twice a day until the new teeth starts coming in, and the internal cuts heal up, just to minimize infection risk.”

Simon nods, watching me set down a bucket of steaming, soapy water, only filled an out a quarter of the way for conservation sake.

“Shirt please.”

I have Simon seated on the dorm floor, with a few towels draped over his lap, and on the floor under him, hair tied back in my best attempt at a bun.

He slid off the black t-shirt without protest, setting it down beside him.

Thankfully there wasn’t too much blood on his chest or torso.

I think being in a dim, dark bathroom made everything look worse than it was. The majority seemed to have soaked into the collar of the shirt, concentrating the thicker streaks to his face, jaw, neck, and a few smatterings on his collar.

His hand was washed, and his prosthetic was removed to be properly repaired and sanitized. I could make quick work of the rest.

I wring out the sponge, bringing it up to Simon’s shoulder.

I don’t touch him until he gives me the cue to do so. Once he nods, I gently scrub away at the red streaks.

“I uh… I don’t know, I guess I thought it would make me look more normal…”

I raise a brow.

“What’s up?”

“Taking the teeth out, I mean… I dunno.”

Oh…

“Ah, okay. I can live with that reasoning. A little skewed, but…”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll give you two answers - one from a scientist, and one from a friend.” I dip the sponge again.

“Let’s say for a sec that your teeth didn’t regenerate, and you wanted to remove them all, given your current condition.” I start, scrubbing away at the top of Simon’s chest. “The extraction points would be visible from the outside, based on how those teeth are rooted, and once the wounds healed and closed, the scarring would most likely leave dents in your cheeks and jaw. Not to mention, you’d probably be in a world of pain… I don’t know what you consider “normal”, but that surely wouldn’t be it.”

Simon hums in thought.

“Now, as your friend, I really don’t think there’s any need to get rid of your teeth at all. Simple as that.”

“Why? I mean, thank you, but they’re so obtrusive, and they get in the way…”

“Same with my arm. My acid burnt arm, neck, and chest. I’ve lost so much feeling in the most random little areas, the skin is rough and tight and discolored and dry… but it’s part of me now. Ryland on earth would probably hate the way Ryland in space looks with a broiled body - or maybe he’d love it, I dunno, he’s a strange fella - but regardless, it’s part of me, my body, and my story. The series of scars tells a crucial story about how I got here… why I’m still alive, and what I’ve endured to still be breathing today.”

I tilt Simon’s head to the side to remove the blood from his jaw and beard.

“And the same goes for your scars, aand your mutations. Like yeah, old Simon didn’t ask for saber teeth, two sets of gills, one red eye, and a missing arm, but without gills, you would have drowned! That alone is incredible! Look at how much we’ve been able to learn about you through the changes your body’s endured! I- I mean it’s incredible! You can breathe fhrough four different parts of your body, you’ve got teeth that can rip through metal, dude- you’re a biological marvel! You could be from Marvel!” I smile, pulling back for a moment to assess my work. He was nearly clean.

Simon ponders my words for a while.

“…Thank you, Grace, I- I really do appreciate what you’re saying-”

“But…”

“But… even still- I just feel like I look scary. That’s not- I don’t think it represents me anymore.”

“Scary? Y’think?” I frown.

“Yeah… right?”

“If that’s really what you’re worried about, you’re a good looking guy, Simon. And that’s with scars and mutations. Good looking people tend to look even better with battle scars.”

“…What?”

“I’m being serious! How many movies have we watched with protagonists that take hit after hit, bump after bruise, and by the climax of the story, they look like the most powerful person in existence?”

“Those are movies. That’s fiction.”

“I could be convinced that you’re a movie protagonist like that.” I shrug, setting my fists on my hips.

Simon lets out a quiet, amused chuckle, which I’m ecstatic to hear.

“I’m just sayin’… I know I’m biased here, but I don’t think you need “symmetry” or stupid boring average features to be normal. You’re cool! You look cool, Simon.”

“…Thank you…”

“Don’t mention it… plus, I mean you’ve got fanged canines, which is like… objectively attractive…”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, I genuinely didn’t near you. You know my hearing’s shot.”

I clear my throat, willing away the red heat on the tips of my ears, and reaching back for the sponge, squeezing it a few times to reignite the suds.

“Just talking to myself. Anyway, I’m just about done… and now you smell like lavender, thanks to whatever infinite shelf life NASA soap they sent me out here with.”

“‘Now’? You sayin’ I smelled bad before?”

Yes. Like iron, sweat, and man. But I’d never say it like that.

“You said it, not me.”

“What?!”

“Hey! I’m just sayin…”

“Oh come on! Gimme a break, I’m aquaphobic. Rocky gets to walk around smelling like cat piss all the time, and you don’t say shit!”

“Ammonia, first of all, ok? It’s not cat urine, Rocky doesn’t even know what a cat is.And besides, that’s not his fault. His atmosphere is made of ammonia- and he doesn’t have an olfactory system, so he can’t smell anyway.” I huff.

“That’s probably why he still hangs out with your funky butt when you haven’t showered in days, stinkfish.” I chuckle, making a few final passes with the sponge over the side of Simon’s neck. I take extra care around his gills, though I can see his shoulder twitch.

“Stinkfish is ridiculous.”

“You know It was funny.”

Simon huffs, shaking his head.

“Oh- see?! You laughed! Told you!”

“That wasn’t laughter, I exhaled at you.”

“What’re you a bull?” I raise both index fingers to the sides of my head, letting out a heavy huff like an angry bull.

Simon gives me a thin lipped smile. Tough crowd…

“Oh come on, that’s a weak one. Let’s see that pretty smile with all those pretty teeth.” I snicker.

“Absolutely not.”

“Please?!”

He rolls his eyes at me.

Abandoning the sponge in the bucket beside us, I take Simon’s face in both my hands.

“Get the hell off me Gracie.”

“One smile. For the both of us. C’moooon.”

Simon narrows his eyes at me.

With the tips of my fingers on both hands, I gently scratch behind Simon’s ears, whatching his poker face shift just about as fast as the iodine clock reaction.

“GrahahAhahace! Get the hell away from me-!”

He rounds his back, shrugging his shoulders up.

“Oh! Oh, what’s this?! I think we’re getting somewhere!”

Simon attempts to grab both my wrists, only managing to grab one, forgetting he’s currently short one hand with his prosthetic missing.

“Ohhh, tough luck, buddy, your shields are down by half, womp womp!” I move one hand up to gently scritch along the spiked shell of Simon’s altered ear, tracing the fin-like shape as though I were trying to commit it to memory, and rolling the sturdy spiked tips between my fingers.

“AAAAahahahAHA- s-shIHIHIT- A-AH- AH-!”

Simon snorts, tucking his chin down towards his chest.

“Nuh-uh. No no no, Look up, look at me.” I purr, tilting my head to stay in his sight line.

“Shut uhUHUHUP-! Fuckin’ asshole!” Simon hisses.

“Up up, Simon, c’mon. My face is up here- lemme see yours!” I move one hand to his chin, tilting it up with a little resistance. He finally relents, keeping his face straight with mine.

He wears a reluctant, wobbly smile - still trying to hold himself together, but for what reason, I really was t sure.

That’s alright. Easy fix.

Without warning, I shoot my hands down under Simon’s arms, scratching against the uppermost rungs of his ribs.

“AaAAAHAHA-! WHAHAHA?!” Simon shrieks, wobbling backwards, rolling onto his back.

I follow him down, skittering lower, down his ribs.

“There we go! Look at that handsome smile! Tktktktktk!” I bring a hand down to his knee, squeezing the muscle just above it over and over.

“SHUHUHUT UP! A-AHAHAAAAAA- UUURGHAHAHA!” Simon growls through his laughter, thrashing around under my hands.

“Settle down, jeez! You’re gonna kick me in the nose!”

“GOOHOHOD.”

I gasp. “You would never.” I give Simon’s side a pinch, earning me a sharp jolt.

Simon lifts a leg at me like a cat gearing up to swipe.

“I wish you would!” I playfully threaten.

He kicks blindly - not quick enough to hurt me, if it were to land, of course.

I catch him by the ankle, turning my back to Simon, and putting his ankle in a headlock.

“NO! M-NONO WAIT- WAIT- I- I’M SORRY-!”

“You’re sorry you got caught, dummy.” I smile over my shoulder at him. “I’m a twin for Pete’s sake- you think I don’t know how to catch a kick?” I chuckle.

With my free hand I suddenly rake at the bottom of Simon’s socked foot, playing a little rougher than I usually do.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-! A-AHAHAHAHAHA- SHIT SHIT SHIHIT FUCK-! GRAHAHACE-!”

My goodness he’s loud… I wince, honestly not expecting him to scream bloody murder.

“Holy crap! Seriously?!” I look back at Simon again, and he’s covered his face with his hand, shouting into it, writhing around violently.

“GRACE- PLEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAAAAA- AAAAAHAHA-!” He can hardly form coherent sentences

“Grace please what? Use your words, please.”

“SOMEWHERE EEEHEHELSE-! I- PLEHEHEASE-!”

I smile at him over my shoulder. Honestly I’m thrilled he seems to be enjoying himself.

“Move your hand away from your face and I will.” I drag all five nails up from heel to toe, waiting for him to consider my offer.

With a howl of laughter, Simon forces his hand down to his side, cackling freely into the echoing air of the dormitory.

“OKAHAHAHAY OKAHAY STOOHOHOP! STOP! MAAAARY! MARY!”

I slow to a stop. Releasing Simon’s ankle.

“Good evening, Simon.” Mary replies through the intercoms.

“Stop bothering Mary, man, I already promised I would stop.” I sit up beside Simon, allowing him to catch his breath.

“UuuuuuUUUGH.”

I smile, giving him a squeeze on the shoulder. “You alright?”

“Mhm…”

I nod, smiling rather fondly at him.

“…why are you staring at me like that?”

“I’m just sitting here!”

“Smiling like an idiot! What?!”

“Nothing! It’s nice to see you smile!”

“Oh shut up.”

“What! I’m being serious! You’ve had a tough day! Ohhh what is it a crime to wanna see you happy?!”

“Why’re you being so saccharine sweet right now?”

“I’m not!”

“Yes, you are!”

“I think you’ve just been so mean to yourself all day, you’ve forgotten how love, care, and kindness are supposed to feel, you semi-aquatic storm cloud.” I jab him in the navel to punctuate my point.

Simon jolts with a strangled wheeze.

“Who’s the last person to actually treat you with kindness, hm?”

Simon is silent for a while, pondering, while I patiently wait, sitting crisscross beside him.

“…”

“Wow, seriously? The bar’s so low it’s in hell, huh…” I mutter.

“Do you count?”

“…You have to be joking.”

“I’m being serious!”

“No! Before me! Pre-Hail Mary!”

“…”

“No one?!”

“Nothing springs to mind…”

“Man… no wonder you’re so tough on yourself…”

Simon shrugs.

“We’re hopeless…” I joke, shaking my head.

“Hang on, who the fuck is ‘we’?”

“Us. Simon Fisher and Ryland Grace.”

“I’m not hopeless, I’m a work in progress. I just have my moments.”

I give him a look.

“And today was one of those moments.” Simon mutters.

“…”

“…”

“I’m really the last person in recent memory to be nice to you?”

“In all memory.”

“…jeez.”

“Yeah.”

“How’s it feel?”

“So bizarre.”

“Really?”

“Yeah- before, any positive interaction was uh… y’know, was expected to go both ways.”

“Transactional.”

“Exactly. I do something for you, you give me something back. Problem is, if you’re too nice, you end up getting ripped off, taken advantage of… So it’s not entirely a matter of everyone just being as asshole. You learn to keep your guard up. Safety, and all that.”

“Man, that’s brutal.”

“Mhm.”

“…”

“You don’t… feel like that here, do you? Like you’re indebted to us, or feel like you need to stay on guard?”

“No, no… not anymore.”

“Anymore?!”

“Well I didn’t know what I was up against before, or who you were… I- I dunno, it took time to trust you, but I can comfortably say that I do now.”

I nod slowly, eyes fixed on the floor. There’s a melancholy sort of happiness in my chest that I’m unsure of how to emote.

“I’m still coming around emotionally… evidently… but for what it’s worth, you’re the first person in my life that I feel like I can trust not to stab me through the back of I turn around. And maybe that’s because you saved my- oh- ohhhh shit… Gracie…”

I sniffle, wiping my eye with my sleeve.

“N-no, no it’s- I’m fine… I told you I’m a crier.” I chuckle through my wavering voice, smiling down at Simon.

Simon snickers, sitting up slowly, opening his arm out.

I fall into the offered hug, a bit dramatically, but the sets par for the course.

“Y’know, now that I think about it, I really didn’t get a lot of hugs back home either…” Simon mutters, wrapping an arm around my back.

“Oh come on, now you’re just trying to make me cry.”

Simon shrugs. “I mean… it’s kinda funny…”

“Ohhh you jerk!” I scoff, dropping my hands down to Simon’s hips, digging my thumbs into the bone like drill bits.

“SHIHIHIT-! A-AHAHAHA- OKAHAHAY!” Simon wriggles, trying his hardest to get away.

He manages to turn, but I catch him around the waist before he can scamper away.

The tractionless towels on the floor give way under his feet, and he tumbles onto his side.

“Unbelievable.” I tut, shaking my head. “You think it’s funny, huh?”

I push Simon down onto his stomach, giving him barely a second to catch up before I latch onto his ribs, scratching with purpose.

“A-AHAHAHAHA-!! I- IM SOHOHORRY!!”

“‘Hilarious! Grace cares about me so much it makes him cry!’ Thats what you sound like.”

I rake my fingers up and down Simon’s ribs, feeling the seams of his gills close tight under my nails.

“I- I’M SORRY, IT- AHAHA-! IT ISNT FUNNY, i’M SORRY I- AHAHAHA-! SHIIIHIHIHAHAHAHAHA AAAAA-!”

“What’s that? I can’t really understand you…”

I turn my wrists so that my fingers scratch against the grain of Simon’s gills, my nails every so often briefly catching on the edge of the plates, not enough to lift them, but definitely enough for him to feel it.

“AAAAAA- *hic* AHAHAHAHAHAHA- GRAAAAHAHAHACE! A-AH AH-! I SAID I’M SORRY! *hic* OHOHOH GOHOHOD!!”

“Ha! Aw, you’ve got the hiccups?!” I chuckle, moving down to the lowest pair of gills.

“Y- *hic* YES- YEHEHES-! I DUHUHUNNO WHYHYHY-!”

“Diaphragmatic spasms. They can easily be triggered by excessive laughter. Makes total sense.” I shrug.

“Y-YOU’RE SU- *hic* SUCH A FUCKIN MEHEHRD, MY GOHOHOD. STOOOHOHOP!”

I finally bring my hands to a stop, sliding them up to Simon’s back.

“Don’t you *hic!* dare.”

“No, no, I’m done, promise. Let me try something. For your hiccups.”

“What- ouuugh…” Simon groans, his body relaxing into the floor as I dig the heels of my hands into the muscle, slowly sliding upward.

“Relaxing your diaphragm with firm pressure… it relaxes the diaphragm, encouraging the spasming to stop.” Suddenly, I lift my hands away, folding them against my chest, though he can’t see with his head faced down.

“But I guess if it’s too nerdy, I won’t use my understanding of anatomy to help you.” I shrug.

“N-no no… *hic* I’m sorry, it’s not nerdy, Gracie… M’sorry.” He mumbles with an oddly desperate whine.

Oh how couldn’t I smile at that? I can’t help but wonder how many other people had the privilege of his trust the way I do right now… if anyone at all.

“Alright then.” I replace my hands on Aimon’s back, gently working the muscles around his diaphragm, wincing at just how tense he was.”

“You’ve gotta start stretching, Si… you’re wound tight like a guitar string.”

“I do. *hic* I just hold onto a lot of stress.” He grumbles.

“A knot or two is stress. This is insane.” I shake my head, continuing to coax Simon’s muscles to settle and relax.

Little more than a few minutes pass, and Simon’s hiccups fade.

“Better?”

“Mhm…” Simon mumbles.

His arm is bent at the elbow, supporting his head, which is turned to the side, eyes closed and relaxed.

“Sleepy?”

He groans in reply.

I carefully climb off of him, beginning to gather up the long forgotten towels, bucket, and sponge, sliding them away to be properly dealt with later.

“Well you can’t sleep on the floor…”

“Watch me.” Simon mumbles.

“Not a challenge. C’mon- just- at least get up on the bed down here. I won’t make you go all the way upstairs.”

“Tha’s your bed though.”

“Mhm. It’s better I keep an eye on you tonight anyway.”

I take a seat on the edge of the bed, pulling the quilt back, and patting the mattress.

“C’mon. You sleep, I watch.”

Simon doesn’t move for a moment, only offering me a heavy sigh. Before long, he groggily stands himself up, shuffling over to the bed.

I smile, letting Simon take the space between myself and the wall, and he plops down like a sack of potatoes.

A small, wall mounted light is perched above the night table - I flick it on, and pick up the book on the table.

“Mary, dorm lights off, please.”

“Dormitory lights: off.”

The room falls into dim, warm light from the fixture beside me. Simon sighs quietly, turning over, and resting his head on my shoulder, his body just about as close to me as possible without his atoms passing straight through mine.

I wormmy arm behind him, combing idly through his hair, along his scalp.

“Grace..”

“Hm?”

“…I’m sorry. About earlier…”

“Please don’t start with the apologies again.” I sigh.

“I- I just…”

“There’s absolutely no reason for you to apologize for a mental breakdown you couldn’t control, okay? Get that out of your head. It’s okay.”

“…”

“All I ask is that the next time you feel like you’re on the edge of your tipping point - for any reason- come to me.” I say softly. “I will always be here for you, but I can’t help to my fullest potential if you don’t let me.”

“M’sorry...”

“No, no sorry. Just say “okay”.”

“…okay.”

I smile, gently scratching the back of Simon’s head. “Good. Now go to sleep.”

Simon sighs, relaxing into the silence.

“…Angel?”

“Human?”

“Love you…”

I feel my heart swell. How many people has he said that to before?

Better question, how many people have ever said it to him..?

“Love you too.”

At least one.

[cacoonedmoonworm]

Ugh the ending is soooo sweet!!! I loved this one!!

[cacoonedmoonworm]

hello!! the last fic that you posted with rocky and Simon was so so so adorable!!! the way you write them is just so cute I can't get enough hfhhdhdhd

could you maybe (ONLY IF YOU WANT TO) make a part 2 of that fic? 👉👈 maybe like after some time Simon finding out that he can give rocky the same affectionate tickly treatment? of course don't feel pressured to do anything!!

thank you so much for feeding the community with your lovely fics!! hope you're doing good

Admissions Pt. 2

𖥔 I'm so HAPPY you liked it!! Admissions is one of my favorites I've written! Also your idea is so amazing, I was so happy to make a part two for you!! Thank you for the compliments and I'm always happy to feed this community!! I feel a little worried about the actual concept for this one but I hope you guys still enjoy! 𖥔

𖥔 Slight spoilers for both movies and book! 𖥔

Summary: Simon asks another simple question about giving affection rather than receiving affection.

Lee!Rocky / Ler!Simon + very brief Lee!Simon

Word count: 4,087

Since our little one-sided tickle fight, Simon seems to have relaxed quite a bit. It's only been two weeks, but he's started talking to Grace now, too. Albeit it's usually short and blunt, with maybe the occasional question here and there, but progress is progress, and I don't think Grace minds one bit. He's just so happy to get him talking in general. 

He’s been slightly more open about the affection he wants. Asking for head scratches or just to hold his hand. Although when I had tickled him, I was literally in his lap, he seems to prefer to keep his overall distance. The most he does is lean against me and I do find it rather odd. He prefers I not do this in front of Grace, getting immensely embarrassed and refusing the affection all together. 

He's been touchy himself, though. He's continued to pet me, but only on my legs. He never goes higher than my first joint, mainly staying down towards my claw.

We’re lying in the closet. Yes, he’s still insistent that he stays there for now if he’s not staring at us around the ship. He’s supposed to be sleeping right now, but I have a feeling he lied about being tired. He just wanted attention away from Grace.

He's got a leg in his lap again, tugging and pulling at my claw while he looks up off into space. Soft fingers pinch my digits and bend them between his fingers. I hear his head turn, his eyes fixating on me. He stares deep into me, as if he wants me to read his mind. I pretend not to notice. 

He waits, looking, and eventually lets out a little huff. I return the noise with my own soft chord and his brows furrow together. 

“What, question?” I ask as I tinker with a small figurine, one of Simon actually. It's a little fun to have a new muse.

He bites at his lip and fidgets with my claw some more. He shifts to sit up on the blankets and pillows thrown together in a pile in the cramped room, straining with his one arm.

“Um. I wanna ask you something—to do something.” He corrects, looking away. He sounds nervous, not embarrassed like I thought he would. We've made good progress. I didn’t think he would be scared to ask for stuff like these requests anymore; maybe flustered, sure, but not scared. 

I place my equipment down and shift my carapace his way, giving him my attention. “What Simon want, question?” I add some amusement in my chords, hoping to ease his nerves a little.

He sits and thinks for a moment, very still, and then looks back to stare at me. His eyes are trying to read me before he even asks. I hear him swallow hard, trying to build up confidence.

“Can I, um, pet you more?” I make a confused chirp. 

He asks like Im going to say no. I wish he would stop expecting that. Grace asks questions because he's curious, while Simon asks them because he's afraid. I want him to be curious.

I was so sure he was going to ask for a little more affection. Maybe something closer to me. Maybe the claw in his lap to softly scratch under his chin but I’m surprised. 

And confused.

“Simon is petting Rocky now.” I hear his heart rate pick up slightly at my statement.

“Yes.” He looks down at my claw in his lap and squeezes it, then rubs his thumb in a circle against me. “I-I mean, like other parts of you?” He looks away sheepishly and I see the end of his tail flick.

That’s a new request.

“I just—I like to do it and ya know…you like it too—well, I think you do.” He grumbles with a frown while squeezing my claw harder. “I don’t know…it’s nice to do that for you…”

Simon is asking to care for me. Usually it’s the other way around. It's different. Simon wants me to be happy too. I feel warm and giddy about that.

“Of course." I trill happily while letting out some soft snickers. He throws me a glare while his cheeks pool with blood. He is so unknowingly sweet. I pull my arm from his lap and hold it out with another, welcoming him into me if he wants.

He looks hesitant but ultimately scoots closer until he’s just bumping into me. I don’t wrap my limbs around him but rather let them lie on the floor on either side. I don’t want to overwhelm him.

I wait as he sits there looking awkward. He raises his hand to my carapace but stops and lets it fall back to his side. He looks me up and down.

“Simon okay, question?” I ask gently, nudging one of his legs with my own. “Do not have to pet Rocky if Simon does not want—“

“No! No. I do want to. I have wanted to. Like Grace does…” He admits, frowning more, but I hear the blood rush to his ears, too. “I’m just worried.” He reaches beside himself and squeezes the claw I just pushed into his leg, like he's holding himself there so he doesn't run away.

“Why, question?” I let out a perplexed rumble. Humans are so confusing. It is good affection he wants to give; what is there to worry about? 

“If, like, I hurt you. Or make you upset. What if I do something you don’t like and then you hate me or—?” I soften at his words, gently pulling him closer to me. He tenses up, his arm in the air away from my body, but eventually melts into my side, resting his head on top of my carapace. I decide not to tell him that he would probably never be strong enough to actually hurt me. Humans take offense to that; well, Grace did.

“Simon can not do anything to make Rocky hate Simon.” He pulls away, his face full of skepticism, as always. "Rocky tell Simon if it does not like touch. This solution okay, question?” I suggest, hoping to ease his worries. 

I'm so happy he's asked for this. His stupid human brain almost stopped him. Good thing he asked anyway.

He nods his head slightly, pulling back to put a little space between us. I pull the claw with his hand clasped around it up in front of us.

“Simon start here.” I suggest.

“…okay.”

I watch as he lets go and lightly runs his fingers over my family crest engravings, something he’s done consistently for the past two weeks, but he looks focused now. It’s like he’s really thinking about this small action. He's so careful, too careful, even.

He has these claws that came from his mutations. They don’t seem that sharp compared to other tools I’ve used, more blunt than sharp. They're definitely longer than Grace's, but I wouldn't actually describe them as long overall. He runs them over my shell, scratching lightly.

He gives me a quick glance, like he's checking up on me and I respond with a soft trill. He lets go and then softly grabs at the top section of my leg. I feel the light pressure as he squeezes. 

I let out a hum of content and see a smile grow on his face, his pointy teeth sticking out of the corners. It's small, hesitant even. It's like he's not sure he's allowed to be happy right now.

“I-is this okay?” He glides his fingers upwards.

“Yes. Feel very nic—“ I cut myself off with a small squeak. I tense up and he jerks back, ripping his hand from me. 

"Shit—! I didn’t mean to! A-are you okay? I knew I was gonna—“ His heart leaps in his chest.

"Rocky okay!” I frantically trill, trying to calm him. He starts scooting back; he looks scared. His breathing picks up and becomes erratic while he grabs at his chest. I feel myself start to get anxious at the familiar signs of a panic attack.

“I knew—I knew I was gonna hurt you! I should have just stayed quiet!” He starts to shake, digging his heels into the floor to push away further. “Why couldn't I just stay fucking quiet?!"

Although I don’t really want to do this, especially in his frantic state, I grab an ankle and pull him back towards me. He lets out a squeak but stops moving. His chest heaves as he claws at his chest and neck.

“Simon. Rocky okay. Not hurt. Simon do nothing wrong. Very gentle.” I try to hum softly. I resort to pulling him back close to me. I reach a claw up and rub at his cheek. I notice the start of tears welling in his eyes, but his breathing starts to even out. 

I move my claw down to his chest, pressing it into the back of his hand that rests there.

“Breathe. It okay.” His eyes flutter closed as I lift his hand in mine, interlocking our fingers, and gently hold it there against his heart. I rub slow circles into his skin and start humming softly. We sit like that for a while.

He suddenly breaks the silence. “I-I was being selfish… I shouldn’t h-have asked—” 

I whistle softly. “Simon. Is okay. Want Simon to ask.” 

“Are you sure? You—you made a noise—you flinched!” He rips his hand from mine and points like he's interrogating me, glassy eyes full of dread.

“Joint sensitive. Rocky good, good, good.” He sits for a moment. I hear his eyes look down at his hand and then press his thumb into the claws on his fingers, like he's testing to see how sharp they are. To see how much pressure is too much and whether he had just used too much.

“Sorry.”

“No apology.” I hum.

He looks away, clearly upset with himself, whether it be the initial contact or his reaction after. Maybe both. 

“Sensitive like it hurts to touch?” He asks, clearly wanting more reassurance.

“No. Ticklish like Simon. Not hurt.” I say, pointing to myself.

“Oh.” He stays silent in thought for a second. “Wait, you can be ticklish too?” Low chuckles spill from his mouth.

“Yes.” I feel myself warm with embarrassment, but I also relax as I see him calm down. I shift a little closer, but he instinctively pulls away. 

This situation put us back a few steps. He was really doing so well, too. He's even comfortable enough to ask for more, but now he’s worried about touching again. I lightly tap a claw against the floor in slight frustration.

“Hm. Simon want to try, question?” I’ll show him it’s nothing to worry about. That he did nothing wrong. Grace tickles me from time to time, though he prefers to be on the receiving end as much as he won't admit it. I think this would be beneficial for us.

He looks shocked, his eyebrows go up then right back down, looking hard at me. “You want me to…tickle you?” I feel myself fluster more. Not really just to tickle me but to pet me in general and show it’s okay.

“Yes. If make Simon feel better. Show nothing hurt. Show Rocky trust Simon.” A sigh leaves him. 

“You don’t have to do that, Rocky.” He mumbles with a frown. He seems to cower into himself, bringing his shoulders up defensively. It's like he's physically scared at the notion of touching me again.

“Rocky want.” I want to make sure he knows. I want him to know that even if he did hurt me or make me uncomfortable, I'm not going to hate him forever for it.

He looks very unsure, moving away slightly again. I wonder if it’s the ‘atmosphere’ after what just happened. Humans are very sensitive to the social 'atmosphere,' so I try to lighten it up a little. 

And maybe I’m trying to antagonize him a little bit, hoping he’ll retaliate.

I reach forward and grab his thigh, squeezing softly. He lets out a squeak and his leg jerks. I hope this isn't an overstep.

“Ah-Rohocky?!” His hand scrambles down to my claw, latching on. I take a second claw and my first and move to his inner thigh on both sides, scratching at his skin. Although he looks frantic, I don't think he's uncomfortable.

“EEHEHAHAhaha w-wahahait—!!” He squirms, trying to pull his legs up while his tail wags behind him, which soothes my mind.

“No.” I dig into the muscles more. I slowly inch upwards, making him squeal.

“OKAY—OKAYHIHEHAhaha *snrk* I-I’ll dohoho ihihIHIHIT—!!!” He squeaks out, trying to pry my claw away. 

I squeeze a few more times before I pull back. He huffs and tries, and fails, to give me a frown. I giggle at his blushing face while reaching out an arm to him. He hesitantly takes it into his lap once more. 

“You’ll tell me to stop if it’s too much, right?” He glances at me.

“Yes. Will tell.” I answer softly. “Joint sensitive. Simon touch there.” I instruct, pointing to where my arm and carapace meet.

He gives me a face I can’t read but ultimately reaches for my leg. I can’t help the little flinch I give in response, making him pause for a second but then he continues.

He runs his fingers along the joint and I freeze up with a chirp. I try to hold in my laughter, squirming around. I hear a smile come to his face as he applies more pressure. My arm starts to retract and I stagger back before I can stop myself, and to my surprise, Simon follows. He moves closer, sitting directly next to me, digging his claws into the sensitive spot.

"Sihihimon—ihiheheha!" My legs become wobbly and I stumble to the floor.

“I didn’t think you would be able to be ticklish, you know, being a rock and all. Why your joints?” He asks, squeezing lightly. I continue to laugh, struggling to gather my thoughts to answer him. He waits a few seconds and lets out a hum. 

“Um. I don't know if you said anything or if you did. what you said.” He grins as his hands still. “Maybe the translator can't pick it up.” He looks over to the laptop on the floor a few feet away from us.

“Ah-apology! Ohonly expohosed insihide of carAHAHPACE—!!!” He starts to scratch again with a giant grin on his face. "SEHENSAHATIVE—!!! HEHEhelp t-to kehehEEP—AHAHE—pahaharasites ahahand smahahall creahaHATURES OHOHOUT!” He pulls high-pitched trills from me as he scratches faster. My legs wiggle out on the floor, trying to push away. 

I weakly push at him, but he just swats my claws away and continues.

"Interesting," he mumbles to himself, slowing his hand. “You make such fascinating sounds. It’s so squeaky.” I feel my body heat up more at what I think is his version of a compliment. I’m not used to being on the receiving end of those. 

“Shuhut mohohouth!!” I squirm as he lets out a laugh. 

I hear a hissing noise, knowing exactly what it is. His hands stop and he pulls away for a moment, watching the steam start to pour from my vents. He smiles more, much to my dismay.

“This means you're embarrassed, right? I’ve seen you do it a few times with Grace. He always makes fun of you.” I try to curl up on myself while he pokes fun at me, folding my arms underneath my body. I decide to not respond.

He lets out a knowing hum and trails his fingers down to my first joint, making me squeak and kick out my leg. He grabs hold, trying to pull it from my body. 

“Give it here, Rock.” He snickers. I fight with myself, trying to relinquish my arm back to him. He’s enjoying himself, and I don’t want that to stop, but my body isn’t cooperating. 

“Rohocky cahan’t.” Light giggles spill from me as I pull against him as lightly as I can. He lets go with a frown as I pull my leg tightly back into myself.

“Fine. Is your carapace ticklish too?” I hear him ask as he rotates around me, dragging his fingers along another joint.

“Ihihi—yehehes!”

“Can I try?” He stops and pulls away; more steam billows from me at his request.

“I-if Simohon wan—“

“Yes. Simon does want.” I hate that he used that word. Sure, he’s asked for things but this is the first times he said he wants something, not that it would be nice or me offering it for him and letting him respond with a yes or no. He said he wants it, and who am I to say no when he finally has the courage to say that?

“O-okay.” I trill and brace myself for the sensation, tensing up but nothing happens. Simon lets out a snort.

“You gotta uncurl. Can’t get to you with your legs covering most of your body.” He pokes at one of my legs, then brushes his hair up and out of his face.

“Ah, right. Apology.” Let's try this again. It takes some mental effort but I do unfurl myself, leaving my carapace vulnerable. My legs tremble, struggling to hold myself up and I hear that he notices, frowning slightly.

He moves himself up against me to my surprise, lifting a leg out and over his shoulder, I’m assuming to make sure I can’t curl it back up. 

“Here. Lean on me.” And I do, shifting some of my weight onto him. He lets out a satisfied hum as my legs seem to steady a little more.

I hear as he brings his hand up to my side and I flinch while frantic anticipatory giggles vibrate through me. He lightly scratches my side, gently, from side to side. He seems to frown at my reaction, tail flicking in response.

“Did you lie? You're barely laughing.” His eyebrows knit together as he presses in more, quickening his pace. 

“Rohocky not lie. Simon no tickle right.” I state, acting offended that he would even consider me a liar. 

"Well, it seemed to be working a minute ago.” He teases with a smile. I feel myself fluster more. It’s nice to see him so playful, but those little comments are getting to me. He lightly pokes at my joint again, proving his point.

“CAHhahe—carapce less sensitive to touch. Scratch or tracing not work well.” He frowns again, shifting against me.

"Well, how do I do it then?” His head cocks to the side.

I stay silent. I contemplate just keeping this information to myself. He can already tickle me elsewhere; he doesn’t really need to know—

"I'm waiting.” I feel myself tense up more at his voice. 

“...”

"You'll tell me eventually," and before I can ask what that means, he's scratching along the underside of the joint of the leg he's got around his shoulder.

“EEAHAhehe nohohoooo!”

"Yes." He stops suddenly. “I really, really want to know.” He’s using this very serious voice. I can't tell if it’s playful or real. I huff, tapping a leg against the floor. It’s like he knows that if he says it like that, I’ll tell him. He and Grace can be so similar sometimes. Maybe I’m just too soft with them.

“Tapping and vibration.” 

“What?” 

“Tapping and vibration work on carapace.”  I admit.

He grins while silently bringing his hand up and taps lightly with a finger, pulling soft giggles from me. Then he does it harder, adding the rest of his digits and I let out an embarrassing squeal, causing me to let out another hissing sound of steam.

“WAHahait—!!!”

“So why does tapping and vibrations only work?” He asks while moving his hand lower. I feel my arms try and curl up again but the two fail with Simon in the way. He sounds like Grace with all these questions. Curious, not frightened.

“H-HAHARD OUTSihide!! Nohot feheheel muhuch!!” He drums his fingers back and forth in an agonizing way. “Vibratiohohons t-trahavel—THROHOUGH caharapaahace t-to squihishy IN-side—! Mahahake tihickle!!” I squeak out the best I can. He stops for a moment, looking out at nothing.

“Vibrations… hm. I have an idea. Can I try?” I feel my anxiety spike at his question as he eagerly looks back down to me. There’s no way I can say no to that face.

“Hm. Yehes.” I warble with uncertainty.

He pulls me close into a hug, something he has not done without me being the first to offer. He doesn't even seem to notice, but I definitely did, though I decide not to point it out. I’m basically in his lap now. I carefully wrap three legs around his middle while the other two hold me up. I unconsciously start to rub his back and he smiles more. Actually it’s more of a smirk.

“What Simon doing, question?” Although I’m not going to complain about a hug, I’m not really sure the gesture is a new idea.

“Hold on. Give me a second.” I wait a moment and then I hear it. The familiar rumble of his purring. I make a confused trill in response. But then it gets louder. It’s never this loud, always so soft. Then it’s stronger still and I feel myself squirm against him.

“Can you feel it?” He questions while holding me close. I do feel it; the strong vibrations coming from his chest flow through me, and it's overwhelming.

“Sihi-MON!! I-IHIHIT THIHICKLE—!!!” I desperately claw at his back, holding onto his shirt. I didn’t know he could purr that loud. I guess he was always suppressing it. He did always seem embarrassed about it.

My legs give out and I collapse fully into his lap and he just curls up around me, purring louder. He almost sounds like some sort of machine, maybe an engine. He’s got this satisfied look on his face, smooshing his cheek into the top of my carapace. I can tell he finds this amusing. 

"Good." I see his tail start to wag.

It’s not good. Bad even.

It’s been so long since a sensation like this ripples through my body. The buzzing is driving me up a wall. Between the vibrations and sound waves, I'm feeling overstimulated.

“You're so warm. No wonder Grace is always attached to you.” He sighs and I swear it gets even stronger the more he relaxes into me. “Ya know, I could probably fall asleep like this.” 

“NAHOHOhohoho!” 

“Yeeesss~ And you’d have to stay here the whole time as a purr in my sleep. All. night.” He hugs tighter as I pull. “So sleepy…” I hear his eyes close, feeling his body slump more.

“NONONO—NOHOHOT AH-allowed tohoho sleheheep!” I all but screech, trembling in his arms.

“I thought that's why you came in here to begin with? I said I was tired, and you came to watch. Are you refusing to watch me sleep, Rocky? I'm offended.” I feel his hand lift slightly and then start to tap against me, up and down the length of my carapace. 

“SHIHImohon—IHIHEHEAHA—!!!”

“Jesus Rocky. So loud. I’m tryin to sleep here.” He gives an evil smirk, rubbing his face against my body like he's getting more comfortable. The buzzing in his chest is so loud, I can hear it vibrate his vocal cords as he talks. 

“IHIHEHAHA—STOHOHOP—SHIHIMOHON—!!!” He suddenly tries to pull away from me, but I've unknowingly latched onto his shirt, pulling him close. I feel his purring slowly go back to its normal quiet vibrations. I can still feel it; I’m too sensitive. I wiggle softly against him, little chirps and pleas rumbling from me, as more steam flows from me.

“Rock. You have to let go or it’s gonna keep tickling you. I-I can't get it stop completely right now.” He bites at his lip, pulling away more. I force my claws open, and he pushes himself away, dropping me gently back onto the floor. He stays close enough to reach out a hand and pet my carapace soothingly.

My laughter slowly fades, and Simon moves closer again. He leans up against me, absentmindedly petting across my carapace. I try to hold as still as possible, worried if I disturb him, he'll stop. Slow scratches, rubbing in small circles. The same way I pet Grace. The same way I pet Simon. 

I notice how he's petting without thinking about it anymore. Without asking for permission first.

𖥔 I almost didn't post this one bc I found the whole purring concept a little silly for some reason even though I thought it was cute idea, i was about to rewrite this entire thing 𖥔

[saturnzskyzz]

Out of character bloodymary tickle Drabble.. if you will good sir 🍷

I’m very sorry for how out of character this is, but I’m sleep deprived, and have a Lee mood that is souring through the clouds right now over these two 😭

Lee! Grace Ler! Simon

—

You know, with Simon only boarding the Hail Mary a few space weeks ago, he never thought his savior would be so aversive.

“Look me dead in the eyes, and say it.”

“Ihihi can’t!”

“You can’t.. what? Say it? ”

“Nohoho! I- I’m sohohory-”

“No no. What did we just talk about with the sorry bullshit? Stop apologizing all the time.”

“Ihihihi’m Saha- or.. uuhuhuhghh!”

to most, grace would be the avoidant type with conflict. Running away was his specialty of course. But Simon picked up on it quick after trying to explain to him that he shouldn’t even be apologizing for something that shouldn’t even have him think to apologize for? For example: just existing and being himself around another human being!

The level of trauma this man has is insane, and the fact that every little conversation they had always led to Grace saying, “I’m sorry to be a bother,” or, “I should’ve thought of it sooner, I’m sorry.” It was a never ending game of “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.” And Simon has had enough of it. All honesty, he was growing quite annoyed hearing that word over, and over, and over. He wanted an end to it.

“Aha. Ok.”

Simon firmly gripped the underside of Grace’s jaw line, and moved his head so he had a clear enough view to see the man in all his ticklish glory. His eyes were shut closed, while his cheeks were flushed, and his nose scrunched up. His glasses were hanging loosely on the side of his face, thankfully his ear was a good enough grip for the lenses to dangle there freely.

“Look at me, angel.”

Grace tried to open his eyes, even just a sliver of his eyelids folding up, but looking at him while in such a silly and flustering predicament was too overwhelming for his poor brain.

He shook his head weakly as he tried to redirect his head downwards, but Simon wouldn’t let him.

“Sihihihi- Ihihihi c-chpptt ehehahaha!” He couldn’t even rekindle his words, his brain was of mush right then. Simon couldn’t help but coo and pout over his pathetic attempts.

“Ohh, you poor thing… fine.” Abruptly, Simon stopped his blunt attack, and held Grace his shoulders now. Thankfully for Grace, he was finally able to catch a breather, but that didn’t change his mind from looking down at the ground.

“Ryland, look at me.” Again, he gently took the underside of Grace’s jawline to move his head up again, but the touch itself made Grace flinch on instinct, earning a few startled giggles.

He grinned at how silly he looked. “Yohou.. flinchy bastard..” he muttered out of his breath as he finally got Grace’s head to come up and he could finally see his eyes lock with his. The creases of the scientist’s eyes were like crescent moons, while his face was still flushed.

“Lahahanguage..” is all he said before he moved his eyes away from Simon’s after a while.

“Oh, so you want a round two?” His grip on his jawline flexed as he once again startled the poor man. Gosh, Grace was too ticklish for his own sanity.

“Nohoho! Nonono, ihihi’m sohohorry..”

The disbelieve chuckle that rang out of the dark haired man sent shivers down Grace’s spine.

“Yohou must really want this?”

“Ihihi dihidn’t mean ihihit! Sihihi wahahit!” His face flushed once more, as he tried to curl up into a ball from the tingling sensation from his jawline, but it was hard to do that when he was so close to Simon cris crossed and across from him.

“You know what you need to say.” He grinned before going in with his other hand, repeating the last session. Grace held onto his wrists tightly as he couldn’t comprehend words anymore. This whole predicament was ridiculous.

They both knew they were going to be here for a moment.

[cacoonedmoonworm]

SHUT UPPP KEEP TALKING 😭

I adore your fics and your art and I'm eating your Simon design and hcs HUEHUE X3

Very scrumptious I love when you post, keep it up! :D 🫂

Awww thank you so much!!! I’m obsessed with him!! I don’t even know why I made that character sheet anyway I didn’t really follow the style I used anyway lmao here is some more ticklish Simon for you, I hope you all enjoy <33

[greatleekate]

Magnetism

lee!simon, ler!grace

cough cough. The nerdiest fic I’ve ever written. Chock full of nerd shit. anyway I’m trying to infuse more science into my phm-related fics. Because. Duh.

uhhh there’s like two suggestive jokes in here, nothing explicit. Just Simon and Grace being goofy. And this fic is intended as a ship <3 dw the next two are both platonic.

summary: Sleepy morning bloodymary fluff <3 ———

Sometimes, when electrons align properly at the atomic level, an object develops a magnetic field. It has a north and south pole. The poles attract opposites and repel those alike. 

The magnet achieves the ability to pull on ferromagnetic materials such as nickel, cobalt, and iron. 

Iron, and other ferromagnetic materials, are permanently magnetic. It contains microscopic regions called magnetic domains where the atomic magnetic moments naturally align in the same direction. When a magnetic field is applied, these domains expand and align to create a powerful magnetic response. 

Grace curled sleepily against Simon’s side. “You’re warm,” he mumbled. 

“I know,” Simon replied. He felt his heart beating harder, faster, and yet somehow slowing down. His very directionality—biological, magnetic, structural—seemed to leap towards Grace.

When a ferromagnetic material is exposed to a magnetic field and the field is removed, its magnetization doesn’t immediately return to zero. This is called hysteresis. 

Simon felt his heart lurch and slowly settle down again when Grace eventually got out of bed to get some coffee for the both of them. 

If heated above a specific temperature (the Curie temperature), ferromagnetic materials lose their properties and become paramagnetic—only weakly attracted to magnetic fields.

Grace crawled back into bed with two mugs. Simon took a scalding sip. He didn’t know about magnetism, or ferromagnetic properties, or Curie temperatures. 

But he knew iron. Oh, he knew iron alright. And he knew the way Grace seemed to stick to him. 

Or was it the other way around?

Simon had a lot of faith in the Hail Mary’s temperature regulation system.

Grace evidently didn’t.

The blonde man cuddled closer, setting his empty coffee mug out of the way. He stuck his freezing hands under Simon’s borrowed t-shirt. Simon hissed and nearly spilled his coffee. 

“Fucking shit, Gracie.”

“Warm me up then.”

Simon set his mug aside and tugged his t-shirt off. 

Grace actually blushed. “Oh, well, that works too—“

“No, you idiot, I’m just giving you better skin-to-skin contact,” Simon muttered, pulling Grace across him. 

Simon pulled the blanket up so it covered Grace’s shoulders. Grace was lovingly trapped in a cocoon of warmth, between Simon’s radiator of a body and the softness of the blanket. 

Grace shuffled his head down to rest on Simon’s tummy—softened from time spent with Grace and enough food. As Grace traced a path between a mole on Simon’s left hip to one on his right, Simon flexed his abdomen on purpose. The muscles rippled under Grace’s hand.

“Show off.”

“I don’t know… you seemed to like them last night,” Simon muttered cheekily. Grace sputtered and hid his face in Simon’s tummy with an embarrassed groan.

Simon laughed from the ridiculousness and the vibrations. “Gehet your face outta there.”

Grace lifted his head. “Why? Does it tickle?”

Simon huffed. “Yes. Stop it.”

Grace started planting kisses around Simon’s bellybutton. 

“HA- Grahace that’s not what stopping looks lihike!”

Simon’s belly shook with giggles. “I did stop,” Grace mumbled between kisses. “I’m just— appreciating— my— Simon,” he added, punctuating each word with a kiss. 

“This dohohoesn’t feel so appreciative…” Simon complained. “I fuckin’ warmed you up!”

“Yes, I’m feeling very toasty,” Grace mumbled into Simon’s lower belly. 

“Ahahasshole…”

“What was that?” Grace murmured. He didn’t let Simon answer, though. Grace bent his head again and licked at Simon’s bellybutton. 

Simon shrieked. “AH- what the fuck?! Ew ew—GRAHAHACE!”

Simon pushed uselessly at Grace’s head, giggling himself silly. “Sohoho disgusting, stohohop…”

Grace grinned, looking very pleased with himself. Simon’s lower tummy was wet and Simon swiped a palm across himself to dry it off. “Fuckin’ gross.”

Grace rested his head on Simon again and then lifted it. “Ew, Simon, you’re getting my face wet,” he complained, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. 

“Your fault, idiot.”

Grace giggled. 

Magnetic flux is defined as the measurement of the total magnetic field that passes through a given surface area.  With Grace’s body across his, Simon felt electric. Every part of him keened towards Grace. If Grace was north, Simon was his south. If Grace was positive, Simon was his negative. 

Simon was content to lie there forever. 

[cacoonedmoonworm]

5-Second Head Start

𖥔 This one is just silly and cute! I just wanted to write some more Simon and Rocky friendship stuff! I struggled so incredibly bad with this one! I feel like I just couldn't quite get Simons inner world to actually sound correct and I still don't think its the best but if i keep messing with it ill go insane lol but I hope you all still like it! ALSO hoping to make a really quick masterlist soon! 𖥔

𖥔 Slight spoilers for movie and book! 𖥔

Summary: Rocky and Simon have gotten physically close over the past year and Grace definitely doesn't feel left out.

Ler!Rocky / Ler!Simon / Lee!Grace

Word count: 4,908

“Oh, you're going down!”

“Rocky like to see Simon try!”

Rocky’s high-pitched cackling rings out as I chase him down the corridor, through ‘The Don’t Go Crazy Room.' He veers into the lab, his claws clanging against the floor.

I jump forward, tackling him to the ground as we roll across the floor with momentum. I hear Grace yelp at the sudden noise and commotion, turning to look at us. We scramble in a heap, pushing, pulling, and hitting each other. 

I grab an arm and he lets me pin it to the floor as I push at his carapace. Suddenly two claws are hugging my middle and he flips me hard onto my stomach.

“Simon not win! Rocky too strong!” The alien smugly says from above me. He smashes a claw into my face, pushing and squishing my cheek. 

I hear Grace laugh at my expense in the background…but it's different. He laughs differently when he's actually amused. Normally it's loud and bright. Today it's quieter, like he's trying not to interrupt us. I don't know why I noticed that.

“Not fair! You have more arms!” I argue as I push my legs underneath myself, straining against his weight.

“Not Rocky fault human design poor.” He lets up, allowing me to try to turn the tables, as adrenaline-filled giggles spill from me. “Simon should not have ‘missed place’ other arm either.” There’s a teasiness to his chords.

“I did NOT fucking ‘misplace’ my other arm, you-oversized-paperweight!" Excitement comes from him in response. He thinks he soooo funny.

I grab a claw, lacing our digits together, and push against his arm. I try to plant my knees, but he easily slides me across the floor just by walking into me.

My smile grows, baring my sharp canines at Rocky, letting out a playful growl from my chest. He returns the noise, mimicking it with a low rumbling sound, making me feel a little silly. This all makes me feel silly. But in a good way.

"Oh, you're gonna get it for that!” It’s supposed to sound at least a little threatening, but the stupid smile stuck on my face and the way my hair is a mess and sticking out every which way make it seem anything but.

I rip my arm away from his and pull back. He raises three of his, following defensively. I find an opening and strike at his carapace with force. He freezes and dramatically falls to the floor, clawing at the air like he’s clawing at heaven above.

“Ow. Simon got Rocky. Dead.” He flops over, legs going rigid, letting out little fake pained trills. I cover my smile, snickering at his acting skills. He can be so silly sometimes.

I give Grace a brief glance, but he’s stopped laughing and is just staring. I force myself to pull my eyes away.

I dramatically collapse into Rocky. “Ugh, I think you got me too, Rock. Drawl?” I offer but his arms immediately curl around my middle and squeeze. 

“Rocky lie! Rocky win!” He shouts, flipping me over on my stomach again, pinning me down.

“Ah-shit! No fair!” I laugh, reaching back to grab him, but he just settles on my back, sitting on top and sprawling his legs out while carefully avoiding my wagging tail. He settles on his new seat with a satisfying hum.

“Simon very hyper today.” My cheeks go a little red at the comment as I succumb to Rocky’s weight. I lay, catching my breath, enjoying the cold floor of the ship on my face. I feel two claws start to rub at my upper back and shoulders, making me melt further into the cool surface.

"Well, I’m clearly not the only one.” I argue with a grin. We’ve been going at it for a good thirty minutes now and I’m not going to complain.

I flip my head over and look at Grace again. He seems to notice and forces a smile back onto his face.

“I would join but you guys would break me.” He lets out a low chuckle. It's true. After whatever the hell happened with me physically, I seem to have gotten a bit stronger. Unusually stronger, and I seem to have gotten a bit…tougher? Hits that would have normally hurt don't as much. This is what allows me and Rocky to play so rough. 

“Yes. Grace squishy.” Rocky adds and starts rubbing a claw through my hair as well, smoothing it back into place. I smirk at what Rocky said, but Grace’s smile seems to falter.

“I want a rematch," I huff, squirming from underneath Rocky.

“Oh. Simon want to loose again, question?” That cocky little alien! “Rocky give Simon…five human second head start.” He crawls off of me and helps me up. I swerve on my heels, not wasting any of my head start. 

Rocky lets me run. He started doing that awhile ago. At first I thought he was getting slower, maybe from the strain of space. Turns out he was giving me a head start. I never asked him to. I don't think he needed me to. He just knew I loved that part. Makes me feel light and airy, like I’m not stuck on a ship barreling through space.

I sprint to the dormitory, Rocky hot on my heels. I feel the air pushing through my light shirt and into my gills, filling my burning chest. My head feels scrambled but elated and my limbs are loose. It feels so nice. So different than what I used to feel.

“Human so slow! Need more legs!” He calls after me, making giddy anticipation flow through me. 

"I'll let our human manufacturer know!” I remark back. Who knew wrestling with a rock would be so fun. Who knew wrestling in general could be fun, actually?

It seemed so scary. The first time Rocky pinned me, I thought I was going to die. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I was worried Rocky wouldn’t stop. That if it got to be too much, I wouldn’t be able to do anything. But when I frantically called out, he stilled and held me softly. Now I don't even think about it. Funny how that happens.

I make it into the room and spin to stare at Rocky, trapped with only one exit. My eyes frantically looking from him to the door.

“Simon in corner. Make Rocky victory easy!” 

“Oh yeah? Don’t get too ahead of yourself! I’m gonna throw you out the airlock!" He lets out pitchy laughter.

“Yes! Affectionate threat!” He laughs, not the polite trills he gives everyone else. It's a loud squeaky noise. The one that vibrates through him and into me. I didn't think he could sound like that when we first met. Turns out he can, usually because of me. He trills as I frown a bit at the failed threat. He slowly stalks toward me, claws raised. We rotate around each other, stupid giggles coming from both of us. 

I hear the door open and see Grace slip into the room with a laptop. I raise a brow. Rocky seems to have stilled at his sudden appearance as well. He settles in the bed and starts typing something, oddly quiet.

Hm.

I turn back to Rocky, running at him while he’s distracted. He jumps with a squeak and catches me in his arms, claws tightly gripping me.

“Simon! Carful! Simon balance not good!” He pulls me forward into his carapace. “Carless.”

"Well, I knew you would catch me.” He doesn’t deny it. Annoyed grumbles come from him as he, gently this time, throws me back to the floor. 

Gentle coos from Rocky make me look up at him. “Simon very cute when like this.” A claw comes up to trace around my face and squish at my cheek again. He brushes my hair out of my eyes, making a soft sound of amusement. I feel my face get warm at the compliment and grumble, my chest heaving in and out as I try and catch my breath.

I lie for a moment and notice how Grace is no longer typing. He is just looking off at us again. Nothing new seems to have been added to the screen of the laptop since I glanced over last, only to start back up again frantically.

“Simon looking at Grace a lot.” And to prove him right, I quickly look between Grace and Rocky to make sure he didn't hear him.

“Am not." I feel my face warm even more.

“Looking a lot, statement.” 

“Shut up.” I grumble as I scramble back to my feet and try to book it to the now unblocked exit. Rocky quickly and frantically grabs one of my legs, trying to keep me here with him, and I slip.

“OW—!!!” I fall face first, hard, like very hard, into the wall of the Hail Mary, bouncing off right back onto the floor. “Ugh…fuck…” My hand shoots to my face, checking to see if I broke my nose. 

A rather loud, alarmed noise comes from Rocky and he scrambles to my head, grabbing my face again. He turns it to face up at him, another small squeak coming from him; I'm assuming it's at the damage.

“Ah apology apology! Was accident!” He pulls me up and I feel my nose start to bleed. The warm liquid starts flowing down my face, the familiar taste of iron on my lips. I don't think it's broken; the pain isn't all that awful either but I have a feeling I'll have a killer headache in a few hours.

“One day, you guys are going to put a hole in the ship.” Grace retorts with a small smile from the bed, but Rocky seems to entirely ignore him. I see him frown and slouch when no response comes.

He anxiously pets at my head and even pinches off my nose for me as I let out a laugh, squeezing my eyes shut. He really must be sorry; it's not often he willingly touches our leaky human fluids on purpose. 

“Not funny! Simon hurt!” He taps his leg against the floor for emphasis, but I just laugh even more. I peek my eyes open and see that three of his claws are busy holding me, so he has to balance on the other two.

Feeling rather playful still, probably from all the adrenaline from being chased and then almost knocking myself out, I bring my legs up and push him out with my feet as hard as I can. The move manages to make him stumble back and I scramble to my feet, talking off once again.

I hear Rocky anxiously call after me, “Simon! Stop running! Hurt! No play!” But I just continue to giggle, making my way back to the lab. I bring my hand up to my nose, trying to stop bleeding all over the ship as I run, but my god, it’s hard to run with one arm when that arm is occupied with something else.

I feel my balance tilt, almost tripping over my feet and falling again as Rocky lets out a startled whistle in response.

“Simon will hurt himself again! Stop running now!” He might have been right about my balance after all. 

He corners me again, but I can tell he really is trying to block my exit this time. I shift from right to left, but he just moves closer.

“Simon…not playing.” He scolds, his vents hissing.

“I’m fine.” He angrily taps a claw against the floor.

“Not fine. Leaking important fluid.” He slowly advances. “No escape.”

“Very ominous.” I lower myself a little, trying to take back some space but Rocky holds his position. Another grin comes across my face and I hear Rocky let out an annoyed hum in response.

“Simon too hyper.” Mean…but fair.

But once again, Grace comes into the room. He looks awkward as we both freeze to look at him again. He opens some random cabinet, bringing his hand up to his chin as if thinking hard about what he’s looking for. Then he closes it, taking nothing. He lingers with our attention on him. Why is he still here? He clearly didn't find what he was looking for.

“Glad you guys are having fun.” I see his ears flush as he mutters an apology for interrupting. His ears always go red before the rest of his face. He settles at one of the tables in the lab, shuffling through random papers. There’s a small frown on his face and his eyebrows are knitted together. I’m surprised he didn’t go back to the dorm. He never brought the laptop back here with him.

Suddenly I’m tossed on my back to the floor again with a yelp.

“Simon stay.” Rocky says firmly. I smile at him again and a frustrated chirp rings out. “Rocky mean it.” He presses a claw into my chest, pushing hard. I wheeze as he forces the air out of my lungs.

“Okay okay. I’ll stay.” He huffs and skitters off but stops wearily for a moment to see if I’ll take off again before actually leaving.

I find Grace's eyes again, but he looks away once more. A frown fights its way into my happy features at his odd behavior.

My attention turns to Rocky as he returns holding some towels. He helps me sit up and places a towel on my face and starts scrubbing softly. 

“Thank you.” I sigh, and he pulls my head closer to him. He traces around my face with another claw, rubbing my forehead where it slammed against the wall. He’s so gentle. It’s weird to be treated so delicately after everything I’ve gone through.

“Apology.” He pushes into my beard and mustache, cleaning away the thick red liquid that stains the hair there.

“It’s okay, Rock. It was an accident.” I’m a little worried this one-off accident will stop our little fights in the future. I don’t know what I’ll do if he insists on this. It’s the most fun I’ve had in years.

“I guess you won again.” I reach up and glide a hand over his carapace. He pulls away from my face for a moment. I run my hand along his plates, along the cracks of his body. His vents flutter with a whistle.

“Simon can not hurt Rocky.” He purrs into my hand, enjoying the attention. He caught me.

“I know. Just a habit.” Just to make sure.

I look to Grace, who is staring again and he quickly looks away, fumbling with something on the lab table. Every time Rocky touches me, he looks and then immediately finds something incredibly interesting somewhere else. Once again, a frown crosses his features, but he doesn’t look angry. I quirk an eyebrow up at him as he tries to sneak a glance back at me. He stands up quickly and speed-walks out of the room. 

Weird.

“Why Grace unhappy, question?” Rocky asks. “Sound sad.” He pushes my face towards the sky, wiping down my chin and neck.

“He isn’t.” I squint in Rocky's direction, tilting my head down just for Rocky to push it back up again with a hum. I feel the blood in my nose start to run down the back of my throat.

“Grace watch us.”

“He always watches us.” I cringe and swallow at the feeling, tasting the liquid in my throat.

“No. Different watching. Not normal.” He trills. His carapace cocks to the side, vents shifting.

“…”

I sit, thinking back to his weird actions. The little comments he’s made over this hour of playing. I have a theory.

“Yeah. Maybe he is. A little.” 

“Why, question?” His trills are low and full of worry. 

“I think he may be a little jealous, Rock.” I smile while looking back down; it’s a little endearing. And a little childish.

“Of what, question?” 

“I think about how we can roughhouse together. Be close physically in ways he can’t…and he just has to sit there and watch.” I feel a pang of sadness thinking about how we unknowingly were leaving him out. It's something I should have noticed before.

He pushes the towel back to my face as more blood seems to dribble from my nose.

“Rocky Simon should include Grace in play. Need Grace happy.” I immediately picture Rocky throwing Grace down to the floor or through a wall and grimace. Rocky's and my idea of pretend wrestling is similar, but to Grace it was probably different. Gentle and light. I would be scared to hold such a delicate being like Grace the way I do with Rocky. So scared to break him.

“I need him happy too.” I mumble into the towel.

The thought of Grace feeling left out on his own ship worms deeper into my brain. I go quiet, pulling at a few locks of hair and shifting them between my fingers in thought. 

“I have another idea, Rock.” It comes out nasally and I close my eyes again, leaning into Rocky’s touch.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ🛸༄˖°.

Rocky and I are fooling around again. Nothing like the play fighting a few days ago, just wrestling in one spot. Pushing and pulling against each other while on one of the beds. Rocky works as an outlet for all the cooped-up energy flowing through me and I appreciate every second of it. Although I was in prison, and being stuck in a confined space is not new to me in the slightest, my new situation (or maybe my mutations) seems to have flipped some sort of switch in me. I get in these moods where I just can't sit still and I gotta move. 

A moment later Grace walks into the dormitory. We both turn toward him, and Grace freezes. 

"Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you guys were in here.” I see his eyes look over us, analyzing how Rocky has his claw in mine, pushing me against the mattress. The smile on my face and disheveled hair and clothes. Once again his face falls.

I frown and Rocky lets me up. I slide off the bed and stand, staring him down. Rocky shifts his carapace in Grace's direction, letting out a low rumble.

“W-what?” an anxious smile makes its way to his face. His glasses slip down his nose. He looks nervous, his hands suddenly fidgeting together. We stand in silence for a moment. I catch his eyes and stare deep into them.

“What Grace fastest running speed, question?” Amusement laces Rocky’s chords and Grace raises a brow, his worried smile falling ever so slightly.

“...why?” He takes a step back as Rocky climbs off the bed as well.

“No reason!~” I growl in response, Rocky and I creeping toward him. My tail flicks lightly as the anticipation builds between the three of us.

Everyone goes still for a moment. Silence settles around us. I see the gears turn in his head while a giddy smile makes its way to his face.

Grace makes the first move, fleeing as fast as he can. He climbs the ladder with shocking speed and sprints down the other way to the ship. I quickly follow, but the ladder slows me down. I’m kinda happy about that; the chase is one of the best parts in my opinion.

“Friend Grace! Come back!” Rocky chirps as we run after him, who is now anxiously giggling. Loud thumps echo through the ship as we make it to the lab. 

Me and Rocky have him cornered. Grace turns as his back presses against the wall, hands held up and open defensively. His face is warped between a worried and playful expression.

“W-wait! Guys—!” I close the distance and he lets out a squeak as I hoist him over my shoulder. He's surprisingly light, which only makes me think back to how breakable he is compared to me and Rocky. He squirms and kicks at me, already pleading frantically. God, he's so dramatic.

"I've captured the captain, Rock.” I smile as his squirming picks up more. I feel as he pulls at my shirt, clawing at my back.

“Good, good, good.” 

I bring him over to Rocky and gently place him on the floor. Rocky immediately grabs his arms and pulls them over his head as I settle on his waist. Grace looks scared, more than I thought he would.

“C-comon guys! Two on one isn't fair! A-and I’m not as strong—your gonna hurt—“

“Grace too fragile for wrestling, statement." Rocky trills out snickers and I watch Grace's face turn a little red. It hurts a little to think he would believe we would actually do something to hurt him.

“Hey!” he squeaks out. “I’m not ‘fragile’!”

“Grace space blob.”

“ROCKY.” The hue of his cheeks seems to deepen. 

"It's true," I agree, nodding my head. “Very blob-like. You barely have a structure…" I punctuate my sentence with a soft squeeze to the pudge on his stomach, making him squeak. “I mean, one hit from me or Rocky and you'd explode."

“I-im not that weak, okay. You're gravely exaggerating my dexterity!” I see as he pulls at his arms. “You have mutant strength; that's not fair! You'd be a blob like me without it!” I huff out a laugh in response.

“Oh yeah?” His eyes flick to mine, and he nods his head nervously. I furrow my brows at him and watch a hint of smugness make its way to his face in the form of a tiny grin.

“One safe combat option remaining.” Rocky says as Grace tries to throw me off. I place my fingers in his outstretched hollow, and he goes still. Anxious eyes find mine as a wobbly smile comes to his face. He starts to desperately squirm and twist before I even start.

“Noho. Simon. Rohocky...” He tries to sound stern but fails miserably. His cheeks are red and his eyes are frantically looking around my face.

I flutter my fingers and a small squeak comes from him. He twists his face into his arm and bites his lip. 

"Oh, playing hard to get, Angel?” I scratch at the fabric harder and hear his laughter sputter from his mouth. He frantically shakes his head, his glasses askew on his face. “Common, laugh for us. This is what you wanted, right?” I smirk, seeing my teasing make his face blush even more. 

NOHOhoho! I-I nehever shahid—AH!!” I pull his sleeve up over his shoulder and run my nails over his bare skin. His body arches up as he pulls desperately. Rocky shifts himself closer, placing one of his claws in the other underarm, clawing softly.

“WAHAHIT! ROHohcky AHA—DOHOHON’T—!!” His hair becomes disheveled as he jerks back and forth.

“Grace wanted to play.” I see him get more flustered at Rocky's comment. I slide down to his highest rib and dig in. He squeals out a plea while his legs frantically kick behind me. I feel around the bone, pushing my fingertips in between the spaces and vibrating before slowly dragging my nails back up to his hallows.

“EEEAHAHAhaha!! Nohoho I-I dihiHIDN’T *SNRK*—!!!" Squeaky laughter comes from him. He kicks out, pushing his feet into the floor, pushing himself into Rocky more.

“Don’t lie, Grace. You're too obvious.” I let my fingers go still, and I see Rocky do the same. “You looked left out.” All those frowns he had on his face flash into my mind.

"N-no, I dihidn't," he breathes, catching his breath while looking away, a wobbly smile on his face. 

“You watched us wrestle for close to an hour.” I take my finger and slowly draw circles into the outstretched skin of his armpit, making his body shiver and jump. “Following us room to room to watch.” I grumble accusingly.

“NO! Nohoho—AH!” I see the blush across his cheeks leak down to his neck at being called out. 

“Rock, take over for me, will you?” I slowly drag my nails down over his ribs, feeling each bump of his bones, until I make it to his side. I give a few squeezes as I watch Rocky place another claw in his other underarm, replacing mine. Goosebumps race across his skin at the light touch and he squeaks.

“ROHOHCKY! DON’TDONOnon’t tahahake o-OVER—STOHOHOP—!!” His head falls back against Rocky's carapace as he cackles, squeezing his eyes shut. His laughter makes me feel warm and I can't look away. 

“Yes. Grace sad. Want to play with Rocky Simon. Cheer Grace up with play!” Rocky happily chirps out, speeding up his tickling. He shakes his head in response, wiggling underneath us.

“Ya know, you could have just asked. We would have involved you.” I make my way to his hip and squeeze into the bone, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my fingers. I smile as I see the blush deepen the tips of his ears and his eyes go wide. “You moped around, pouting the whole time when you could have just asked.”

“NAHAHAT THERERE—EEHIHIAHAhaha *snrk* NO—!!” I rub circles into the bone, his hips bucking up. “SIHIMOHOHON—!!!”

I reach behind myself, squeezing down his thigh, each pinch earning me a squeal with more laughter. I finally make my way to his knee and I latch on. I squeeze rapidly at the joint, his legs frantically kicking. Small tears wet his lashes as we continue.

“Grace embarrass about play, question?” I slow my touches and so does Rocky. Grace's chest heaves up and down. I lean forward and grab his glasses that have all but fallen off at this point.

“Nohot embarrassed…and I…I dohon’t pout…” He huffs out and I raise a brow at him. So he's a liar now. 

"That's what you got from this conversation?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. “Also yes, you do.” I smirk, reaching down to run a finger along the edge of his lips. "You're literally pouting right now.” He frowns, his blush deepening. I didn't know ones face could get that shade.

I reach down and grab at his stomach. He jerks hard and squeals. I lighten my touch to lightly trace my nails against the skin there.

"Ahahahehe *snrk* wahait!" He sucks in his stomach, light giggles coming from him. Back and forth I sweep my fingers from side to side, slowly watching the skin twitch and Grace squirm. 

“So why not ask?” I still move my fingers but keep them pressed into his flesh. He bites his lip, giggles coming to a stop. 

He sits in silence for a moment, like he's carefully picking his words.

“I just…didn't want to intrude on your guys' relationship and stuff. It's nice that you guys have something separate from me.” He looks away, a sad look coming to his face. "It's a good thing." He tries to reassure us, but the way he looks away lets me know how he really feels. 

"It's not like I could participate anyway.”

I roll my eyes with an annoyed groan. God, he can be so weird with this stuff. It's not like we've known each other for close to a year now, stuck on the same ship together. He's known Rocky for even longer! I don't know why—I can't understand why he wouldn't just come and ask. He's the one who's always been open with his feelings. 

I look back over to him, frowning. He meets my gaze with a worried look. Worried about me being upset. 

"Rocky, let’m go," I sigh and Rocky does. I pat the floor next to me and he scuttles up, facing Grace beside me. Grace curls up a little but ultimately sits up to face us, though he looks like he'd rather be doing anything else.

I grab his hand in mine and squeeze. “You can't just not tell us stuff like this, especially if it makes you upset. We could have been more gentle. We could've—can check in on you more when we wrestle. Make sure you're okay, not hurt.” His eyes avoid us, and his hand is tense in mine.

“Y-you shouldnt have to do that, it's ok—”

“I get it.” I cut him off and his eyes flick to me. “I feel the need for close intimacy. I'm clingy. You know this, I know this, and Rocky definitely knows this.” Rocky lets out an amused trill and I smile. “But guess what? I had to ask you and Rocky to do that stuff. It made me sad that we didn't, so I asked like you taught me…and that's what we need you to do too.” 

“Understand, question?” Rocky reaches out and grabs his other hand while placing a claw on my leg. 

“Yes. Okay. I understand.” The tone he uses makes me think otherwise.

“Ryland, we're going to be on this ship for a long time together. You're good at this.” I try to give the best reassuring smile.

“At what?”

“Keeping us moving. Keeping me moving.” I mumble, looking away. “I don't know how to explain it." He waits patiently, eyes wide.

“I think…” I take my hand from his and rub the back of my neck, "...things are easier when you're around. Being yourself and happy.”

Silence.

"Grace heartbeat quick—”

“YES. Thank you, Rocky." He squeezes his eyes shut and looks away too, his ears red again. They do that a lot.

“Now,” I start shifting to stand. “I think we're going to give you a…five-second head start.” I smile as his eyes go wide.

𖥔 Guys I just love putting them in the most physically affectionate situations ever, literally the only reason Simon eats shit is so I could write Rocky taking care of him and them being cute and adroable 𖥔

[as-the-crows-feather-falls]

First Contact

Summary: After discussing the problem of Grace’s fine-motor skills once starvation settles deep into his body on the way to Erid, Rocky has an idea to fix it and keep Grace comfortable and safe. Testing this idea leads to hijinks.

Warnings: Spoilers for Project Hail Mary, mentions of starvation and scarring but nothing too major, they’re both a little traumatized it’s alright, this is a tickle fic so if that’s not your thing don’t read🙂‍↕️

Author’s note: guys this fic is like two weeks in the making and I had a frickin blast writing it!!! I love them so much I’m shaking them in my teeth they’re the platonic soulmates ever

At first it came from a quiet day of parallel work. Both Grace and Rocky had been in the lab, the former doing calculations on how best to ration his meals for the trip to Erid, and the latter tinkering with some unknown Xenonite contraption. Then Rocky stopped his tinkering altogether. Which was a surprise, considering that even deep in thought he always seemed to be doing something with his claws. With five of them, Eridians were very good at multitasking.

“If Grace experience muscle weakness and fine motor skill failure from malnutrition on way to Erid, Grace no work Hail Mary when reach orbit and space elevator. Confirm, question?” He asked when he finally spoke.

Grace stopped what he was doing and chewed the tip of his pen. It had only been a few months since Grace had rescued Rocky from the Blip-A floating dead in space, they had a long, long time before they had to really start worrying about that, but Rocky had a great point.

“Uhh…shoot, yeah. You’re right.” He leaned back in his chair, stretching his spine with a few satisfying pops and looking up at the stark white ceiling. “I mean, we could probably reprogram the Hail Mary and mess around with her navigation to do it sort of on autopilot, but that might be a bit risky-”

“Rocky do it!”

Grace looked over at his friend. Rocky was on his feet now, tapping away with his two front claws as he always did when he was going through calculations in his head.

“Rocky I appreciate the thought, but you can’t pilot the Hail Mary from a ball. And the controls would fail in your atmosphere.”

“Rocky no need ball, I make suit. Suit from Xenonite mesh like panel on ball! Small small small panels for dexterity and maneuverability to properly work controls. And tend to Grace when Grace get sick. That part very important. Rocky want to help Grace. Rocky fix.”

Grace was following along pretty well until that last bit. Rocky had done his research on human malnutrition as soon as Grace mentioned rationing his food for the trip, and man, he was not at all happy about it. Grace assumed it was because with all the sleeping he’d end up doing once his body started running out of energy, it reminded him of his old crewmates, how he had watched them fall asleep one by one and never wake up again. Poor Rocky, alone in that massive ship with no one to watch him sleep…the thought always made Grace’s eyes well up.

Like they did right now.

“Rocky, you know we’ve got a while until that starts to become a concern, right? You don’t gotta worry about me just yet,” Grace said, blinking away the moisture in his eyes. Frankly he was touched that Rocky was looking out for him this far in advance. Who was he kidding, Rocky was always looking out for him.

“Yes, but if Rocky make suit now and suit have problem and things go bad bad bad during test, Rocky trust Grace to make sure Rocky safe to try again. Best to test while Grace is healthy.”

Well, he couldn’t argue with that logic.

“Alright, deal,” Grace smiled, putting his fist up to the Xenonite in front of Rocky, and Rocky returned the gesture with his claws making a thud on the clear material. “Just be careful, alright?“

“Rocky promise! Start right away!”

—————————————————————————

It had been a few days since that conversation. Rocky slaved away in his workshop every waking hour of the day. He worked on the suit when he watched Grace sleep, he worked on it as soon as he himself woke up, and every moment in between, only pausing to eat. He wouldn’t even take a break to rewatch Star Trek with Grace, which was one of his favorites! You had to hand it to the guy, he was committed.

And then, after a week of hard, tedious, claw-aching work, it was done. Though, Rocky would take a week of this over a week of chain any day.

Grace had taken a quick trip to the dormitory to retrieve his quilt—the lab got a little chilly sometimes and he was feeling snuggly—before he got an announcement from Mary’s intercom.

“Summons from crewmate Rocky.”

“I left for two seconds,” Grace chuckled to himself before folding the quilt under his arms and making his way back up to the lab.

“Summons from crewmate Rocky.”

“I’m coming, buddy, I’m coming!”

He opened the hatch to a series of excited chirps emanating from behind the Xenonite wall, so high pitched Grace wasn’t even sure if Rocky was actually saying words or if he was just squealing with glee.

And now Grace could see what had his friend so excited. On the other side of the barrier, Rocky was stomping happily inside of a near skin-tight Xenonite spacesuit. It was similar in concept to the one he had made Grace so the human could explore the Blip-A’s interior, but much more maneuverable. Heck, at first it took Grace a moment to notice he was wearing it at all!

Grace beamed as he trotted over, squatting down to get a good look. “Hey, you finished it!”

“Yes yes yes! Ran through many designs, none very comfortable, this design good good good. Is comfortable, and can move claws to work Hail Mary interface and controls. Very important.” Rocky demonstrated by raising his claws in a fist, then separating them and pressing his “palm” against the barrier. “Now just need testing in Grace atmosphere.”

“Well, then what are we waiting for?” Grace asked, grinning at Rocky’s excitement as well as his own. “Oh! Actually, me. Wait for me, I’ll be right back!”

“Where Grace going, question?”

“When you come into my space you’ll be too hot for me to touch, so I’m grabbing the EVA gloves.”

“Ohh make sense, hurry hurry!”

Grace shot Rocky a thumbs down in his departure, leaving at a swift trot as he made his way to the airlock where the EVA suit resided. It took a few minutes, Rocky stomping back and forth impatiently all the while, before Grace returned.

“Alright bud, I’m here, let’s do this.”

“Yes yes yes, let’s!”

Rocky squeezed his way into the little airlock box that the two of them used to pass items back and forth, similar to the one in the tunnel connecting their respective ships when they first met. It took a bit of maneuvering, but he eventually got all his legs to fit comfortably inside. The air inside hissed as it cycled from Rocky’s atmosphere to Grace’s. As soon as it stopped it slid over to Grace’s side of the wall, and Rocky cautiously stepped out.

Both human and Eridian stood silent and still, not unlike how they did as soon as they re-entered Adrian’s orbit before everything went sideways and spinning. Only this time, nothing went wrong. Rocky flexed his claws, stretched all of his limbs out and up one by one, testing each joint of his suit for weaknesses or leaks. Nothing.

“All good?” Grace asked, turning his head and looking cautiously at his friend from the side of his eyes.

Rocky did a few more test bounces up and down with his carapace, before he stomped happily back and forth. “All good! All good good good!”

“Haha! Yes!” Grace whooped, pumping his fists in the air and grinning from ear to ear. Rocky chirped in excitement, spinning in a circle and doing jazz hands. Then Rocky stopped to give an exasperated groan, sounding a bit like a squeaky car brake.

“Rocky want to hug Grace but still too hot,” he whined.

Grace threw his head back and laughed. He put on his EVA gloves and walked over to Rocky to rest his protected palms on the top of his body around his vents. To say the Xenonite was scalding hot would be an understatement, and Grace almost had to pull away from the heat that radiated into his forearms, but he got used to it.

“Here, how’s this for starters,” he asked, masking his grimace with a friendly smile.

Rocky chirped in surprise. “Oh! Can feel! Can feel Grace through suit!” he said.

Grace chuckled. “Yeahah?”

“Yes yes yes!” Rocky chittered, shimmying from side to side as if he could barely contain his excitement. “I like!”

Rocky’s reaction was enough to make the near-burning skin worthwhile a hundred times over.

—————————————————————————

Where Grace went, Rocky went, clunking his way through the halls of the Hail Mary on five legs rather than inside of his ball. Grace had to admit, it was pretty nice having his friend like this. He was a little worried at first that Rocky having full access to the ship would cause some personal space problems and get him a little peeved, but honestly all annoyance was gone.

“Is Rocky cool enough for hug now, question?”

Well, there was that. But Grace couldn’t even be mad, the fact that Rocky was so excited for his first real hug but careful to not hurt Grace was beyond heartwarming.

Grace chuckled and hovered his bare hand over the Xenonite, just like he did ten minutes ago. Man, this stuff took ages to cool down.

“Not yet buddy, almost there though.”

They continued their endeavors.

“Is Rocky cool enough for hug now, question?”

“Oh my god…”

It took another forty minutes for the xenonite to cool down to a degree where it wouldn’t be uncomfortable. Sure, Grace could’ve put his EVA suit on, but selfishly he didn’t want to. The suit was bulky and annoying to put on in 1.5g’s, and call him sappy but he wanted to feel Rocky as completely as he could when he held him close after all this time. It was his first hug, after all, it had to be special.

And then, after so much waiting—months of it now, really, ever since Grace hugged Rocky’s ball that first time—it happened. Grace figured it out on accident, simply walking by Rocky in the dormitory and giving his head a gentle pat as he passed, and Rocky leaned into his hand as if they had done it a hundred times.

Then they both paused.

Rocky raised his carapace, practically buzzing with excitement. “Grace?”

Grace looked at his unburned palm, then to Rocky, and smiled. “Rocky cool enough for hug now, statement,” he beamed.

Rocky squealed so high pitched Grace thought it would shatter the computer screens, stomping happily with all his legs and wiggling back and forth. Then, with his legs momentarily scuffing along the ground, he launched himself at Grace, his front two arms outstretched.

Grace didn’t have half a second to prepare, scrambling backwards to try and cushion the blow, before Rocky had collided with him and he was knocked flat on his back.

“Woah! Woahwoahwoah Rocky—ouf!”

The wind was briefly knocked out of him from the impact, but then he laughed. He laughed and laughed as he sat up the best he could and held Rocky close, squeezing the alien against his chest. He didn’t even care that his breath was a little restricted from the pressure of Rocky’s arms around his ribcage. Tears of pure joy began to fall from his eyes, which he squeezed closed to just feel Rocky in his arms.

Rocky was singing, the sound almost like a whimper but more joyful. He was trembling a little. The first time Grace had heard this sound from Rocky it was when the Eridian had stepped foot back on the Hail Mary for the first time after his rescue. Keening, he had called it. He had explained it as a behavior akin to human crying, a release of great emotion. Very common in pebbles, but every Eridian did it from time to time.

In short, in their own respects, Grace and Rocky were both crying from joy at just being able to hug the other.

“Rocky…like hug…” Rocky said through keens, his voice a little warbled from emotion.

“Me too,” Grace replied, pressing his cheek into the hard surface that gave him more comfort than he’d experienced since he first woke up from his coma. Wow, he didn’t realized how starved for affectionate touch he really was.

“Rocky love love love Grace.”

Grace sobbed a wet laugh, squeezing his best friend closer still. “I love love love you too, buddy,” he said through his tears. “God, I love you so much.”

—————————————————————————

If Rocky and Grace were attached at the hip before, they may as well be one organism now.

The fact that they could properly touch had done wonders to the both of them. Both species were incredibly social, and as such physical contact was important for bonding.

And boy, did the two of them utilize it.

Head pats in passing, brushing against legs, resting against shoulders, you name it. Given Rocky’s reaction to that first hug all that time ago, Grace was shocked to find he was actually a super touchy-feely guy. He was constantly near Grace, brushing a claw or leaning his carapace on Grace as he watched him work.

And the sleeping situation had improved exponentially! Rocky, god bless him, was a snuggler. Perfect for Grace because Grace was also a snuggler. That first night when Grace settled down for bed, Rocky leapt right up onto the cot like an overgrown cat and curled up perfectly in the crook of Grace’s side. When Grace huffed a small chuckle and slung his arm over Rocky’s carapace, it was as if he always belonged there.

Oh! And the science part of it! Oughhhhh the science part!! They could now study the body of the other, take notes, see what made them tick, better than ever!

They set it up in the Don’t Go Crazy room, since they didn’t need any lab equipment, just a pen and notepad for Grace. Besides, if they did anything with reflexes and one of them ended up kicking the spectrometer or something, it would be a very expensive whoops.

Even though Rocky was an engineer, being around so many scientists before they…you know…gave him a curiosity around the topic that he didn’t have on Erid. Not only that, but he definitely needed to know how Grace’s body worked if he was going to optimize his survival as he ran out of food. If Armando could keep Grace alive, at least Rocky could help keep him comfortable and not alone.

But enough of the melancholy, they had learning to do!

Grace offered to go first, given Rocky’s concern about his body being the topic that led to the invention of the new Xenonite suit. Rocky wiggled happily from side to side in said suit, evidently enjoying his newfound freedom and the offer of getting to explore the alien anatomy. He scuttled right next to Grace, making sure to be cautious of his claws lest he step on and possibly break Grace’s legs.

The Eridian made a move to reach out, curious as ever, before he hesitated. The claws within the xenonite glove tapped against one another in an anxious fidget. Grace furrowed his brow. Rocky didn’t have eyes to follow to what had made him stop, but the way the concave face of his carapace was angled at the multitude of burn scars on the flesh of his left arm and the neat little claw-print on his right let Grace know that that was what he was worried about.

He gave his friend a small, sad smile, dipping his head a little to look at him square. “Rocky…”

“Rocky not want to hurt Grace again.” Rocky crooned, curling in on himself a little. “Scarring bad bad bad. Know it was to save Grace, save Rocky, but still hurt.”

“It won’t hurt me bud,” Grace insisted. “You know as well as I do how insulated your Xenonite is, it’ll be comfortably warm at most. Besides, we’ve hugged a good couple of times, remember? And it’s all been fine then.”

“Rocky can’t forget, but mesh most fragmented and thin at claws. Best design for dexterity.” He flexed said claws as he spoke, clacking them together in his nervous tic. “What if mesh break, question?”

Grace snorted, rubbing the top of Rocky’s carapace with his knuckles. That was one of his favorite things about Rocky’s new suit, getting to give him an affectionate noogie every once in a while. Well, one of his favorite things besides the hugs. Rocky gave some really great hugs.

“With your engineering? Not likely. You’re overthinking. And if it does, I run to the EVA suit, get you back into your ball, and we figure it out from there. I won’t let anything bad happen, buddy.”

Rocky hesitated for a moment before raising his carapace towards his friend. “Promise, question?”

“Promise, statement.”

With Grace’s assurance, Rocky tentatively reached out a claw once more. Xenonite-covered armor found the skin of Grace’s side, just under where his ribcage ended, and simply rested there for a moment. Rocky was gentle, so much so that Grace almost urged him to use more pressure so he could better hear and feel the human body under his claw. This was a bit of a biology lesson, after all.

Then Rocky’s claws squeezed once, twice, three times in rapid succession as he gave a curious trill, cocking his carapace to the side and clicking to get a better view, and Grace discovered quickly he had something else to add to his “Who Am I?” board.

He, Doctor Captain Ryland Grace, the world’s leading authority in astrophage biology and one of the saviors of Erid and (hopefully) Earth, was ticklish.

Really, really ticklish.

The reaction was immediate. A bark of shocked laughter leapt from his throat without his permission, and he squirmed away with a wobbly smile.

Rocky, on the other hand, found this no laughing matter. He let out a series of sharp alarmed whistles and scrambled back. “Apology! Apology! Apology! Rocky hurt Grace! Suit malfunction! Apology! Bad bad bad!” he rambled in a panic, curling his legs under himself and pressing his two front limbs together, dipping his carapace behind them.

“Woah woah hey, easy there pal, you’re okay!” Grace rushed to assure him, reaching out a hand to usher him back. When Rocky stepped further away, Grace wasted no time in lifting up his shirt so Rocky could see where he had touched him. “Look! It’s not red, the skin isn’t irritated, you didn’t hurt me! You just tickled me, that’s all, no harm no foul. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

After several moments hesitation, Rocky crept closer, his body still low to the ground. The sight made Grace’s heart break a little bit. Man, their adventures in Tau Ceti’s system really messed the two of them up, didn’t they?

When Rocky was close enough, Grace put a hand on top of his carapace. Rocky leaned into it with low chitters. With his other hand he took Rocky’s claw, the one that Rocky believed had burned him. He shook it back and forth in a silly way to show his anxious alien friend how harmless it was.

“See? The suit doesn’t burn, and you were very gentle. You didn’t hurt me, bud,” Grace soothed, curling and relaxing his fingers to gently scratch at Rocky’s vents through his suit. Rocky seemed to like it, taking a step closer still while the tension in his body slowly subsided.

“Rocky not want to hurt Grace.” he finally said, his voice low. “Grace very important to Rocky. Rocky not forgive self if cause Grace pain like that again.”

Gosh darn it, Grace was not going to cry right now. He straight up refused.

“Oh, buddy, come here,” Grace sighed sadly, scooting close to Rocky and pulling him into his arms. Rocky pressed his carapace against the man’s chest and sang low and soft, wrapping two arms around Grace’s middle.

“You’re important to me, too. More than I’ll ever be able to put into words.” He pulled away slightly to look at Rocky square, dipping his head as if forcing the eyeless creature to meet his gaze. “There’s nothing, and I mean nothing, you could do to me that I wouldn’t be able to forgive you for. All these…?” He gestured at his burn scars, “were gotten out of love. You loved me enough to risk your life to drag me to safety,” he pointed to the raised claw-print, “and I loved you enough to risk my life bringing you to your own atmosphere so you could heal,” he ended by rubbing his fingertips up and down the gnarly skin.

“Don’t disservice the both of us by chalking all these up to just pain. We fought hard to keep each other alive, and these are marks of that. Okay?”

Rocky nodded his carapace, a human mannerism he had picked up from his friend. “If Rocky were human, would probably be leaking right now. Very very leaky.”

Grace laughed, giving Rocky one last squeeze for good measure. “Ready to try again?” he asked, tapping Rocky’s carapace twice with the question. An Eridian mannerism he had picked up from his friend.

“Yes yes yes, feel better now.”

“Good!”

Rocky put his claw right back where it was, then paused once more. “Can Grace explain new word before continue, question?”

“New word, new word…” he wracked his brain, but it came up empty.

“What Grace say Rocky do when Grace flinch away from touch. Scare Rocky.”

“Oh! Yes, got it. So that was something called tickling. I’m not sure if you guys have a word for it, but basically it’s my body’s response to unexpected external stimuli.” Grace began. “It’s hypothesized that knismesis, which is a lesser, more itchy sensation, was evolved to detect insects or small parasites on the skin, while gargalesis, which is what I just experienced, is a more extreme reaction that elicites laughter and is linked to the fight or flight response. Though, no one’s really sure why that bit of it evolved. Maybe for social bonding through play, maybe to protect vulnerable parts of the body in combat, there’s a bunch of theories that no one can really prove for sure,” he finished with a shrug.

Did he know all this from doing a deep dive on ticklishness after learning rats could be ticklish in one of his science classes?

Yes. Yes, he did.

“You squeezed my side, which is a common ticklish spot, so my body moved away from the stimuli, being your claw, and made me laugh. Does that make sense?”

Rocky hums in acknowledgment. “Yes, make sense. Eridians have similar response to stimuli. Speculated to detect parasites and social bonding, same as humans. All Eridians ticklish. All humans ticklish, question?”

Grace filed that information away for later before shaking his head. “Not all of us, but most are.”

“Understand. Back to anatomy study now, question?”

“Yeah, we got a little sidetracked,” Grace chuckled.

Grace leaned back on his hands, his legs criss-crossed in front of him as he let Rocky do his thing once more, though this time there was a bit of an anticipatory smile pulling at his lips. Instead of resting his claw on Grace’s side like before, Rocky had opted for the chest approach this time, and Grace could only assume he was hearing past his ribcage and into the organs inside.

“Internal muscle pulsing and two others expanding with Grace breath. Heart and lungs, question?”

Grace gave him a thumbs up. “Ding ding ding, we got a winner!” he grinned. “Our respiratory systems are completely different from each other, but my heart and circulatory system works similarly to yours, except my heart pumps iron-based blood while yours is mercury, and I only have one while you have five. Make sense?”

“Yes yes yes. What bones made of, question?” Rocky asked, his claw trailing down to the human’s ribcage. It was hard to the touch, but Rocky was still incredibly careful.

The anticipation was back again, but Grace couldn’t really pinpoint why. Rocky had barely touched him, he couldn’t be that ticklish, could he? Maybe it was a fluke, a kneejerk reaction to his body not being properly touched in so long—

Squeeze squeeze.

Nope, definitely ticklish.

“CaHAlcium!” Grace yelped, cut off mid-answer by a rather obnoxious cackle. He cleared his throat, giving Rocky’s carapace a reassuring pat with one hand and covering his mouth with the other. “Sorry, calcium.”

Rocky didn’t retract his claw in fear this time (progress!) but he did still all movement and cocked his carapace. “Tickle response, question?”

“Yeah, heh. Yeah.”

“Heart rate elevated,” Rocky stated.

Grace gave a small laugh. “Part of said tickle response,” he said. “Like I said, it’s connected to our fight or flight instinct, which makes our body pump out adrenaline, which then increases our heart rate. It’s really cool actually, sometimes humans can get this crazy rush of adrenaline in life or death situations and get this insane stre-hehaha hehey!”

He was interrupted by his own frantic stammering when Rocky squeezed at his ribs again. Then the little rascal laughed at him, his trilling chirps sneakily squeaking through his vents!

“Hey! Are you doing that on purpose?” Grace asked, knitting his brows together and waggling an accusing finger at his friend.

“Mmmm. No.” Squeeze squeeze squeeze.

“You ahahahare you so are!” Grace couldn’t help but succumb to his giggles, tilting his head back with a wide grin and swatting at the offending claw. At least it was only one, and it was gentle-

Oh fudge there’s another one. There’s another claw.

Rocky had reached across with a second arm and began squeezing at the same spot on his other side. He gave a series of high pitched giggling chirps as he stepped over Grace’s lap, effectively pinning him to his spot on the walkway of the Don’t Go Crazy room. And, given his bulk and Grace’s already suffering abs from laughing, it took very little time for Grace to lie back on the ground as Rocky took him apart.

“W-wahahahahait nohohoho! Rockyhehehehe!” He wriggled and shoved at his friend’s carapace, unable to stop the peals of laughter forced from him at Rocky’s touch.

Rocky ceased his tickle attack and sat back on three of his five legs. “Rocky cause discomfort, question?”

Grace pushed himself back to sitting, leaning back on one hand while rubbing at the ghost tickles on his ribs with the other. He shook his head with a smile. “Noho, bud yohou’re oka-“

“Then Rocky continue tickle Grace!”

“W-wait whahaHAHAHAT?!”

Grace considered himself lucky Rocky was conscious of his weight and balance. If he wasn’t using his other three legs to keep himself steady and his center of balance secure, Grace wasn’t sure if he could handle any more claws sneaking in to tickle him. Rocky was ruthless!

Wriggling claws found their way under his arms, making him clamp his elbows to his sides in a futile attempt to block the attack. One claw relinquished in favor of squeezing at an elbow, which gave Grace a small but appreciated break at least on that side of his body. Rocky must have noticed the lack of reaction and opted to squeeze and pinch at his hips and knees instead. He definitely got his reaction there, Grace shrieked and bucked his hips with such intensity that had Rocky not been so heavy it might’ve thrown him off.

The more logical part of his brain noted the assault focused mainly on his joints, which must be common tickle spots for Eridians. However, the rest of his brain was too focused on being tickled absolutely stupid to care about that little tidbit.

Grace was in absolute hysterics. His brain had all but turned to mush, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth agape with boisterous laughter. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed this hard, if ever.

“Okahahahay okay! Rocky time ohohohout pahahahause plehehehease!” He pleaded, swatting Rocky’s claws in a pitiful attempt to fight the Eridian off. Rocky took mercy on him and complied with his request for a “time out” without hesitation. Grace pushed himself back up with heavy limbs, leaning back on his elbows and getting out the rest of his titters.

“Humans not have tickle spot like Eridian,” Rocky noted, pointing at Grace’s elbow. “Not ticklish, question? Is common Eridian spot.”

Grace looked at Rocky over his glasses with a raised brow, his head slightly bowed as he recovered from the playful attack. “Noho. No, because we have no vital organs there.”

“Then why is leg joint more ticklish than arm joint, question?”

Grace shrugged. “My guess is because humans are built for running, so our legs need more ‘training’ in avoiding injury.” He put the word “training” in air quotes. “That’s just my theory though. Everyone’s got areas that are more ticklish than others, like I said it’s up to a lot of speculation.”

Rocky hummed and wiggled his carapace as he digested the information. “Understand.” Then he went still, clicking and chirping away and tapping a claw against the ground. “So…humans commonly most ticklish where many vital organs are inside.”

“Correct.”

He pointed a claw at his friend’s stomach. “Rocky hear many organs here.”

Immediately Grace felt butterflies go absolutely ballistic in his belly. If that was any indication, he could piece two and two together that he was probably really ticklish there, even if he didn’t remember.

If he could, he would have shoved his foot so far in his big mouth it’d be seen where the sun doesn’t shine.

His body moved before his brain caught up, scooting back on his hands and his mouth forced into a giddy grin. Again, not a good sign. “R-Rockyhehehehe, c’mohon man-“

“Rocky learn human anatomy, must touch to hear beneath skin, Grace be still!” Rocky chirped, and Grace didn’t miss for a second the amused lilt that was ever present in his friend’s voice. The little bugger was having way too much fun at his expense.

Grace did not, in fact, be still. Grace had preferred to scramble to his feet and put said running legs to use. Well, he would have if Rocky hadn’t all but tackled him back to the ground. Grace was on his back again, staring wide eyed at his captor with a goofy smile on his face.

“Nohohoho wahait let’s talk we can talk about this Rocky plehehehease!”

Rocky said nothing. Granted, Grace wasn’t actually sure if he could speak through his squeaky giggles. He raised his claws in the air and scrunched them in and out. Oh god, that made it so much worse! And he had started to lower them to his stomach!

“NONONONO dohohon’t do it! Dohon’t doho ihihihit ROCKYHEHEHE-!”

Increasingly desperate pleas fell on impossibly deaf ears (jerk) as Rocky’s claws finally touched down. Well, crashed down was more accurate, for they had made contact on his stomach with such sudden ferocity that Grace honest to god screamed before trailing off into wheezes. Wheezes then turned into cackling belly laughter once he finally got a breath in.

“ROCKY!!! RohockyheHEHEHE NOHOT THEHEHEHERE!” Grace howled through his laughter, his flailing arms trying and failing to push Rocky off of him and defend his middle all at once.

He was very briefly reminded of the last time he was pinned to the ground in similar fashion, but instead of desperate sobs to spare his life, all that was driven from his mouth was giddy, carefree laughter as Rocky tickled him to pieces. It was honestly a little refreshing from the horrid memory.

Rocky was a little monster. He was trilling and giggling and whistling in a way that was reminiscent of cooing at something cute. Grace thought might actually die. From embarrassment or from being tickled to death, he wasn’t sure. Most likely a mix of the two.

“Grace! Be! Still!” Rocky reiterated, intensifying a squeeze with each whistling word. He was absolutely evil! His technique even more so! He squeezed and pinched and poked and skittered erratically with no rhyme or reason, swapping tactics in a way that drove his cackling victim up a wall.

The final nail in the coffin, though, was when Rocky had discovered the effectiveness of sticking his hands under Grace’s shirt and vibrating his curled claws rapidly back and forth. In all the months they’d known each other, the last and only time he’d heard Grace this loud was their first real meeting when Grace had shrieked with fear, wielding a wrench.

Now, under much sillier circumstances, Rocky was positively enamored with the joyful noise coming from his squishy companion under his claws. He could hear the surface of his smile, his nose wrinkled and scrunched, his brows furrowed and his eyes screwed shut with mirthful tears pricking at the corners, his glasses crooked on his face as he shook his head back and forth. And best of all, his laughter. Bright and happy and contagious even to a complete different species. Second only to his mate’s song, it was definitely Rocky’s favorite sound.

However, to both Rocky’s dismay and understanding, Grace could only take it for so long. In all seriousness, human adrenaline and stamina was something to be admired, but he was definitely reaching his limit.

“OHOHOHOH MY GOD OKAHAHAY!” he yelled, clutching his stomach and kicking his legs in the air as if trying to run from the ticklish touches. “ENOUGHENOUGHENOUGH UHUNCLE! UHUHUHUNCLE HAHAHAHAHA MEHEHERCYHEHEHEHE!!!”

Rocky scuttled off with incredibly fond giggles, perching by Grace’s head to fix his glasses and give him space to breathe. He carded his claws gently through the blond hair as Grace fought to regain his bearings. His chest heaved, his shoulders shaking with leftover breathless giggles.

“Yohohohou,” he huffed, pointing a floppy hand at the Eridian, “ahahare awfuhul!”

“And you are stuck on Hail Mary with Rocky for next four years,” Rocky quipped back through pleased chirrups.

“Bite me.”

“Rocky cannot bite, not have mouth.“

“Ihit’s a joke, bud.”

“Ah, understand.”

Jeez, he felt like he had just run a marathon. His abs hurt, his face was sore, his throat was hoarse. Rocky had really did a number on him. But despite all that, he couldn’t deny the pleasant buzz of dopamine in his brain from the physical exertion and all the laughter.

“God, I’m living with a flipping tickle monster,” he cleared his throat and groaned, rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

“Grace okay, question?”

“Oh yeahaha, pal, I’m all good.” More than all good, actually. Thinking back on the past few days filled with meal prep and rationing math and dread, he needed that. A good tussle was exactly what the doctor ordered. Even if it was pretty one-sided.

Rocky nudged Grace with his carapace once the human finally got his breath back. “Rocky turn next, question?”

Grace sat up and looked at Rocky with a quirked brow and crooked smile. “Yohou want me to tickle you back?” he asked, a chuckle lacing his voice. In all honesty Grace was planning some thorough revenge anyways, but he wasn’t expecting Rocky to ask for it outright!

“Yes yes yes,” Rocky chirped, doing his little jazz hands in place. “Grace want to learn Eridian biology, and tickle is bonding between good good good friends! Play, silly, happy happy happy for Grace and Rocky.”

Grace smiled from ear to ear. Oh, this guy had no idea what he’d just unleashed upon himself.

If Ryland Grace was anything, he was competitive. He wouldn’t let that moron with a doctorate tell him water was always necessary for life to evolve, he wouldn’t back down when Lokkens tried her best to convince him Earth life and astrophage evolved from completely different root species, and now he definitely wasn’t letting Rocky get off the hook for tickling him within an inch of his life.

“Are you sure about this, Rock?” He sing-songed. “Because I’m not going easy on you.”

“Rocky tough, Rocky take it!” the Eridian beside him whistled, sticking out his carapace boldly.

Oohohoh, challenge accepted buddy.

He curled his fingers into wiggly claws and tried his best to make his smile look more predatory, but he knew he just looked like a dork. He could live with that, he was happy to be goofing around with his best friend, dang it. “Your funeral!”

Grace gave Rocky zero buildup. No test squeezes, no pokes or taps, no trying to hide his intentions, just immediately digging aggressively into Rocky’s joints.

The pitch at which Rocky squealed was almost painful to his ears, but Grace was too giddy to care. He grabbed onto one of Rocky’s flailing limbs and pulled himself closer, curling his legs criss-cross-applesauce around his giggling friend.

“So, you wanna tell me where Eridians are most ticklish?” He asked, as casually as if he was having a normal conversation. He had to raise his voice a little bit over Rocky’s laughter. “You already told me about riiiiiight here!” He grabbed two of Rocky’s elbow joints and squeezed rapidly through the Xenonite mesh. Rocky did his best to scuttle away through shrill cackles, but only ended up tipping himself backwards onto his side, his legs flopping and flailing and looking for all the world like a mix between a spider and a turtle stuck on its back.

“Ohoh no you don’t!” Grace growled, getting onto his knees and reaching forward to follow Rocky’s momentum. He stuck his hands flat on Rocky’s sideways carapace, looming over him and grinning. “Spill it! Where else?”

“Grace….find out….for yourself!” Rocky challenged through his squeaky tittering.

Grace’s grin got impossibly wider as he curled his fingers, making Rocky squeal and his legs scrunch in anticipation. “Ohhhhhkay, you’re asking for it now!”

Caution of getting his fingers pinched to the wind, he clawed at the joints where Rocky’s arms met his body, where his “armpit” would be, and Rocky went absolutely berserk. He squirmed and flailed and cackled. It sort of sounded as if someone was shriek-laughing into one of the recorders the Grover-Cleveland music room used to have. Grace used to hate hearing that squeaky sound through the halls when the kids first learned to play the instrument, but now this similar sounding song was music to his ears.

“Soooooo I’m guessing the elbows and leg joints because that’s where parasites can get in, right?” Grace asked as he continued to take his friend apart. Said friend couldn’t speak through his cackling. Or, maybe he could, but it was so intermingled with his laughter that Grace or the translator couldn’t pick it up.

So, he slowed down a bit, letting Rocky get a breather in. His vents were steaming a little bit from the exertion. All that movement and laughter must’ve been a little taxing on his body. Another similarity between humans and Eridians.

Grace huffed an affectionate laugh through his nose, scratching gently at the top of Rocky’s carapace in a soothing way rather than a tickly one. He didn’t want to overwhelm the poor guy. Or worse, send him into an unexpected slumber before he ate.

“Did you hear me, bud?” He asked, tapping twice. It was a normal behavior, but those two taps made Rocky squeak and giggle.

“Yes…Rocky hear…apology…need moment,” Rocky huffed, still tittering a little all the while.

“No worries, pal, take all the time you need,” Grace said, resorting from scratching to just rubbing the flat of his palm and pads of his fingers along the tip of the Xenonite suit. Rocky trilled, leaning as much as he could into it from his lopsided position.

“Alright buddy, on your feet,” Grace chuckled, bracing his feet against the floor and holding Rocky’s claws to pull him right-side up while Rocky pushed with his back legs. Rocky didn’t leave his position in Grace’s lap, though, he just curled his legs underneath him and settled right there.

“Okay, recover now,” Rocky announced. “Answer to Grace question is yes. Eridian joints much much much ticklish because easiest for parasites to enter body. Bad bad bad. But also limbs are place most touched by other Eridians. Sensory input from external stimuli aid in social interaction and bonding between individuals.”

Grace nodded along. “Gotcha. Not so different, are we pal?” He smiled fondly, tapping twice once more with his question on the top of Rocky’s carapace.

Once more came the giggling, making Grace smile in his endearment. “Whahat is going on, you’re never this giggly when I do that,” he asked, unable to help the laughter weaving in between his words.

“Grace tickle Rocky within minutes of deep sleep! Still tickle! Vibrations from question tap tickle!” Rocky said indignantly, poking Grace in the stomach and making him yelp and squirm.

“Okahay! OkAHAhahay I gehet it! My bahahad!” He laughed, holding the offending claw with one hand and clutching at his stomach with the other.

Rocky ceased his attack, giggling and swinging Grace’s hand back and forth like Grace had done with him several minutes before while looking rather pleased with himself.

“One of these days I’ll have to introduce you to the long-standing earth tradition of tickle fights,” Grace said with a smile, tapping Rocky’s carapace a little more to make him squirm. “We’d have to do it in zero G, though, otherwise you’d win by a long shot.”

“Yes yes yes, Rocky win fight. Much stronger than leaky space blob!”

“Yeah? Well I’m faster,” Grace retorted. “I could run you down any day of the week. I gotta teach you about persistence hunting one of these days.” An idea was quickly coming to mind on how that’s go down, a smile already curling his lips at the prospect.

“Faster not help when Rocky have Grace like this!”

Grace shrieked as Rocky’s claws shoved at his shoulders and pinned him down again, descending upon his belly once more shortly after and immediately eliciting cries for surrender. “AAAHAHAHA OKAY OKAY YOU WIN!!! YOU WIHIHIN GET OHOHOFFA MEHEHEHEHEHE!”

Rocky took mercy on him quick, thankfully, backing off with smug giggles and helping Grace back up.

“Nohoho…noho more for today, alright? I’m beat,” Grace giggled, waving his hand back and forth and shaking his head with a smile still plastered on his face.

“Yes yes yes, Grace sleep, Rocky watch!” Rocky chirped happily. They gathered the translator and notebook (the pen had been kicked off of the walkway in the scuffle and was long gone), and made their way to the dormitory.

It was a routine that took very little time to fall into. Grace changed into his pajamas and brushed his teeth with Rocky giving him his privacy as normal, Grace settling into bed and getting cozy under the covers as normal, and then lifting up the quilt so Rocky could hop up and settle down to watch, which was their new normal. Grace even kept the room a little cooler than the rest of the ship, so he wouldn’t overheat with Rocky snuggled up next to him.

Rocky curled three of five limbs comfortably underneath his carapace, the other two left free to wander and keep busy as Grace slept. One drifted up to run through Grace’s hair, while the other splayed across his chest.

“You know,” Grace said after a moment, a yawn following his voice, “I think this is one of your best ideas to date,” he smiled. Sure, the idea to eat the Taumoeba may end up saving his life, hopefully, but he was pretty sure this whole being able to touch thing saved his heart and soul. He couldn’t believe he and Rocky had gone so long without a proper hug.

Rocky chirped in amusement, his frequency rumbling deep into Grace’s chest. “Grace stupid from little sleep and too much tickles,” he said, and Grace could recognize his tone as incredibly fond. It made his chest feel fuzzy with affection. Still can’t take a compliment. One more thing they had in common. “Grace sleep, I watch.”

“Good night, Rocky.”

“Good night, Grace.”

[cacoonedmoonworm]

This is so well written! Its so freakin adorable!

[greatleekate]

testing out the prosthetic arm…

….except it backfires on Simon <3

[cocoa-critter]

Break Time!

Somethin’ a little different for dinner tonight, team… please don’t crucify me…

Been wanting to write Coltland twins content for a WHILE, So if this sucks just know that it’s my first attempt, and I’m also just a little guy. And here’s my customary typo/grammar apology too…

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Lee/Ler!Colt (Fall Guy)

Lee/Ler!Grace (PHM)

TW: swearing. A lot of it. From Grace too - this is grad school Grace. He had a lot less of a filter o think.

❦ Grace hasn’t been heard from for weeks, burying himself in schoolwork. Colt drops by to make sure he gets some enrichment time away from his computer.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“RYYYYLAAAAA- oof- goddamnit…”

The door to my apartment jostles, and I hear the thunk of body weight against the outside of it.

I groan, dragging a hand down my face, and look at the time at the bottom right of my screen.

It’s 9:45 pm. What the hell is he doing here so late?

“Pull the handle up, not down, Colt.” I grumble through my hand.

I know the cacophonous ruckus of my twin brother anywhere. I didn’t even have to ask who was there…

“I knew that.”

“Evidently not.”

There’s some more fuss with the latch, and finally the door swings open.

“RYLAAAAAND GRAAAAACE!” Colt shouts, arms out like he’s awaiting applause and camera flashes.

He steps through, letting the door slam behind him.

“This is an apartment complex. You realize this, yes?” I don’t bother to look over at him.

“Uh… yes? Obviously?”

“Then why are you making the most noise physically possible- shoes. Shoes off before you step in my kitchen.”

Colt scoffs, kicking off his boots and nudging them to the door with his foot, hands raised in surrender.

“Sorry, mom, jeez.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Colton?”

“Government name? Both syllables, huh? Oh You’re pissed.”

“No, I’m busy. I’ve got a lot of work I’ve gotta finish up. And funny enough, no Colt is required for me to complete any of it… huh, imagine that…”

Colt hums, shrugging indifferently, shuffling into the kitchen.

“You chose to put yourself through discretionary, extra school, big guy. That’s on you.”

“Spell discretionary.” I sit back, folding my arms, watching as Colt opens the fridge I pay for, rummaging through it.

“Uhhhhh… d… e…”

“Forget it. Also I’m securing myself a career with this d-i-s-c-r-e-t-i-o-n-a-r-y, extra schoolwork.”

“I already have a career, space-face. That doesn’t work on me.”

“Space Face..?”

“Yeah- all the uh- acne you got goin’ on there… looks like-“

“Got it. Thanks.”

“Point still stands. I’m already employed.”

“Your career involves you getting thrown out of windows.”

“Yeah. And I get paid to do it. It’s awesome.”

“Tell that to your osteoarthritis in thirty years…”

Colt snickers, finally making a selection from my fridge, land popping the tab on a can of my Diet Coke.

“Ok, what’re you doing in my house.”

“Apartment, kiddo.”

“You’re twelve minutes older than me. Don’t call me that.”

“Twelve minutes wiser.” He takes an obscenely long drink of my Coke. “Can’t i just visit my brother? Jeeeez.”

“Typically, no. Usually comes with a caveat.”

I groan, hunching back over my laptop, leaving the room in silence for a few, blissful moments.

Colt, ever the fiend for attention, gets bored of my silence, and saunters his way over to me from the kitchen, standing behind my chair.

“What’ ha eorkin’ on?”

“Physics.”

“That’s a looot of letters where numbers should be.”

“They’re variables, Colt.”

“Why is that division problem so long…”

“One more time i will ask you why you’re here before i call Court.”

“Funny you should say that. He’s the one who told me to drop by.”

“Why in earth would he do that to me?” I hiss, clicking away at my keys.

“He said you’ve been avoiding his calls…”

“So? I avoid your calls too. And Holland’s.”

“Yeah, but that’s like, totally normal. You never ignore Court.”

He had a point. I’d been so swamped with grad school work that my phone had pretty much stayed on ‘do not disturb’ for the better part of two weeks now. Everyone who had attempted to contact me was left in radio silence. My brothers included. I guess Court finally got worried enough to send out a search party.

“He’s worried about you, man! You haven’t said a word to any of us in weeks! It’s like you’ve fallen off the grid! You’ve been so quiet even Holly’s concerned.”

“Oh so the whole family’s on my ass, awesome. You all know I’m in grad school, yes?”

“We know you’re in school dipshit, we just get worried when we don’t hear from you for forty days and nights.”

“Busy…”

“You probably haven’t slept in who knows how long.”

“I’ve been sleeping just fine.”

Colt huffs, a hand snakes around the side of my head, grabbing me by the cheeks, tilting it up and back. My brother stares down at me with a raised brow.

“So then all the darkness under your eyes is what, a stylistic choice then? Trying a new look?”

“Shut up.”

“I dunno! Maybe it’s Maybeline!” He chuckles, releasing my face. “C’mon. Just take a break for a little while.”

“Colt, I’m not joking I’ve got a lot of work to do, and it’s all gotta be done in two weeks!”

“That’s plenty of tiiime!”

“Every school project you’ve ever had, you waited until 6:30 the night before to do. Do not talk to me about time management.”

“And I aced them.”

“Barely passed, and aced, are two very different things.”

“Whatever, asshole. I’m just askin’ for one night off. One night! Come onnnn.” Colt walks around the side of my, leaning against my dining table. It shifts back a bit, and he stumbles like the ground’s been swept out under him, but recovers quickly.

“What the hell would we even do, anyway?! Theres nothinf to do!”

Colt opens his mouth to speak.

“If you say bar, club, or party, I’m gonna freak out.”

“…Order shitty food and watch garbage tv?”

Hard to say no to that…

“With whose money, exactly?”

Colt gives me a devious smile, reaching in his pocket, and producing a card I couldn’t recognize the branding of.

“With the studio’s money.”

-

“What the fuck is an enchirito..?” Colt wrinkles his nose at the container, passing it to me as I sit down on the couch with two soda cans.

“It’s exactly what you’re holding. An enchilada burrito.”

“Looks Like a box of swampass, but… alright.”

“Okahahay, says the guy with a Mexican pizza. What the hell is that?!”

“Hey! It’s fine Mexican cuisine!”

“Spell cuisine.”

“Q…”

“Unbelievable.” I chuckle. “At least mine’s a combination of two actual Mexican foods.”

“Concepts, of Mexican food.”

“An enchilada and a burrito? Real foods, bud.”

“None of this is real… I’m pretty sure you could leave this stuff out in the sun for 20 years, and it wouldn’t change.”

“You suggested this- would you shut up and sit down and turn the goddamn tv on, Colt?! Jesus…”

Colt makes a show of snatching up the remote up from the coffee table, switching the television on.

“Alright, what kind of sloop are we feelin’ tonight…”

“Any of your movies streaming anywhere?”

Colt gives me a cold side eye, I snicker.

“TLC?”

“Mmmm, nah, too exploitative.”

“Yeah, true…” Colt grumbles, taking a bite of his affront to Mexican food.

“Oh! There’s that obstacle course show you used to like! Y’know, with the water underneath?”

“Wipeout?”

“No, no… the actually athletic one.”

“Oh! American Ninja Warrior!” Colt beams.

“Yes! That one! Is it on anywhere?” I lean back on the couch, taking a bite of my food.

Colt hums to himself, opening the search bar, and slowly clicking through the letters.

I roll my eyes, snatching the remote. “I’m gonna show you something revolutionary, okay? Ready?” I press the very obvious voice command button on the center of the remote, and say- “American Ninja Warrior.”

The tv loads, and within a few seconds, the show is playing.

“Oooh bougie.”

“It’s a Roku, dummy. We’d be here for hours if it were up to you and your typing.”

“Shh, shut up, my shoes on.” Colt reaches over, waving a hand in my face to shut me up. I snort, slapping his arm away.

“OOOOOOOW.”

“Shhh! Colton! I have neighbors, you lunatic-! I didn’t even do anything!” I whisper-shout at him, pointing my fork at him. “Watch your show and be quiet!”

-

“I could have landed that.” Colt huffs, closing his box, and setting it on the table.

The show had been on for twenty minutes, and I’d honestly started to zone out.

“Landed what?” I focus back in.

“Watch the replay. Look”

“Oh Buuuuullshit! No you could not!” I scoff as the scene is replayed in slow motion.

“I’m trained to do that!”

“You are trained to get hit by cars, and set on fire. Not to swing around on monkey bars. That’s like a five gap!”

“I could do it.”

“Wrong. Look- watch the replay again- look at the size of that gap between him and the platform.” I point to the screen.

The particular part of the course that the contestant failed on was something of a trapeze jump from a round, unstable platform, across a wide open canyon, to the sturdy, blue dividing platform between obstacles. The contestant hadn’t built enough swinging momentum on the trapeze bar to carry him all the way across the expanse, and plummeted into the water.

“Psh. Lightwork.”

“You’re full of shit!”

“I’m not!”

I turn to Colt. “Then prove it.”

He looks over at me - not completely unwilling. “How? I’ll do it, but how?”

I hadn’t t gotten that far… I figured I would call his bluff, but of course he was completely willing.

“Do you still have that pull-up bar that I got you that you never use because you hate me and my gifts?”

“First of all, yes, it’s in the doorway to my room, drama queen. And second, you are not swinging off of that in my apartment.”

“Why?! THATS be perfect!”

“It’s not made for that much inertia! You’ll rip the wall down! And if really like to keep my deposit on this place!”

“Spell inertia.” Colt crosses his arms.

“I-n-e-r-t-i-a.” I say with a smug smile.

“Whatever. Well how am I gonna prove I can make the jump if I can’t use the bar?”

I think for a moment, taking a deep breath.

“Oh!”

“What?”

“There’s a playground out back of the building. There’s a set of monkey bars.” It wouldn’t be perfect, but it’ll do. All we needed was to settle a score.

“Is it open right now? It’s kinda late…”

“Like you care.” I scoff.

“…Yeah, you’re right.”

-

The metal gate clicks closed behind me, and Colt lands on the ground a few paces beside me, having opted to jump the fence instead.

“There was a gate right there.”

“What would I do without you, Mr Holmes?” Colt slides his hands in his pockets, shoving me with his shoulder.

The park was dark, lit only by ambient San Fran city light, and the nearly full, waxing moon.

It was the type of park playscape that would look like a sprawling kingdom to a little kid. I know I would have thought so.

There were four, tall spires, arranged in a square, with bridges connecting them all together. Each spire had a different attraction - slides, climbing nets, a rock wall, and the fourth boasted a sturdy platform that served as the launchpad for monkey bars. A set of eight swings stood off to the left, and a few of those centripetal spinning rides sat a few paces away.

In the daytime, the rubber padded park looked fresh, lively, and inviting, but in the dark, it looked more like a haunted house for kids.

“This park is loaded” Colt nods with a smile. “We woulda had the time of our lives here back in the day.”

“You say that like we’re ancient- we’re 24.” I chuckle.

“Still! It’s been a long time since we were the intended height for a playground.”

We make it to the monkey bars, and Colt climbs up onto the platform. He grabs hold of the first rung, letting his upper body hang, as he watches me scope out the dimensions of the set.

I pull a tape measure from my cardigan, and begin unraveling it.

“You keep that thang on ya, huh?” Colt chuckles.

“Don’t ever let me catch you saying ‘thang’ again.”

“I’ll be sure to say it more. How much distance do I have to clear again?”

I drop the tape, and walk back a few paces under the bars.

“From the bar you swung off from… you’ve gotta clear six.”

“Six?! I thought it was five!”

I smile. “It is, just making sure you’re posting attention. Four feet. I suggest swinging from this rung.” I pout up to the bar five away from him.

Colt stares at the bar, and at the four foot mark indicated by my tape measure.

“Yeah, that’s doable.”

“We’ll see. And please don’t hit your head, I’m tired of seeing your pathetic ass in the hospital.”

“I won’t, I won’t. Now move.”

Colt hoists himself back up onto the platform, taking a deep breath.

“Colt please be careful.”

“Awww you love me.”

“Don’t push it.” I step out of the way of the jump.

“Ready?” He nods to me.

“Mhm. Three… two… one… go!”

On my signal, Colt takes a three step running start off the platform.

He jumps low, steering his head clear of the bars, and catching the fifth rung with both hands.

He swings forward, letting go, and landing on the rubber floor with a grinding halt, letting himself fall the short distance down to the ground, sitting on his bottom.

I trot over to assess his landing.

“Oooh… just shirt… you landed at about 4.6…” I acted disappointed, but I was stoked to be correct in assuming he couldn’t make the jump.

“What?! Bullshit.”

“Look!” I sit down, and I point to the tape measure on the ground, a half a foot in front of him.

He scoffs, extending a leg out dramatically, landing beyond the tape.

“There. Made it.”

“Stop it, you were short six inches, I was right.” I nudge Colt’s leg back with my foot.

“Let me go again.”

“Hell no!”

“Why not?!”

“You get one chance at it!”

“What the hell?! We didn’t agree to that!”

“That’s how they do it in the show, Colt! One shot, and if you don’t make it, you’re out!”

“Does this look like American Ninja Warrior to you?”

“Worse, it looks like a closed playground at 11 at night with no safety pool, and plenty of things to crack your empty coconut head on when you slip and fall.”

“Oh whatever you just don’t wanna be proven wrong. You know I could make it…”

“Nohoho! I don’t care an out that! You tried, you missed, we’re done!” I shrug.

“Oh I’m going again.”

“No you’re not!”

Colt narrows his eyes at me for a moment, before attempting to break for the platform.

As he turns his body to stand, I hook my foot in front of his, and he stumbles back to the ground, falling flat like a bug.

I snort, doubling over, cackling shamelessly at my brother.

0ohhh yea, hilarious. Real funny.”

“I didn’t think you’d fahahall so hard! I- haha-!” I wheeze. “Did they teach you that ragdoll move in crash dummy school?” I snicker.

Colt slowly raises himself upright, glaring at me.

“Stohohop staring at me like you’re gonna rush me!”

“What if I am?”

“…”

“…”

I take off like a bat out of hell. The soles of my converse grind across the rubber padded ground as I struggle to find traction.

Once I get my footing I’m off like a jet, and I know Colt’s hot on my tail.

He had always been quicker than me, ever since we were little. I could never manage to beat him in a race… but in a game of chase, all I had to do was pivot, and I’d buy myself a few, precious seconds.

And that’s exactly what I do.

I run a couple more yards, before quickly rotating on my heel, hooking a sharp left, ducking into the center of the four-towered playscape. I hear Colt slide to a clumsy stop, disoriented, before finally taking off after me again.

“Haha-! All these years and that still works?!” I taunt.

“Oh shut up Ry, it’s the only trick you have.” Colt ducks into the courtyard as well, taking a few steps in, and pausing to take a breath.

“And it still works!” I chuckle through deep, ragged breaths. “I mean, you’ve already given up…”

“No I have not…”

“Yes you have! I’m looking right at you.”

“…I was just getting close enough to you to do this…” Colt takes a long step forward, swiping his hand out, and slapping me on the shoulder before I could move away. “TAG!”

“Tag?! Wgahahat?!”

Colt cackles, taking off in the other direction.

“What the hell, Colt?!” I start after him with an exasperated huff. I duck through the playscape again, out to the open park, head on a swivel.

I’ve lost him already.

“Up here, blind bozo.”

I whirl around to see Colt standing on the elevated platform of one of the castle spires, smiling down at me in the moonlight.

“How in the hell…”

I shake my head, turning, and climbing the ladder up the tower, as Colt scampers away across the connecting bridge.

I hoist myself up, and by the time I get a visual of my brother, he’s on the opposite tower to me, staring back.

I make a move like I’m going left, he flinches to the right… I hate this game.

I stand there for a second, thinking through my next move.

He’s not an idiot, he’s gonna take off the opposite way I go… maybe if I false start and only go a couple paces, he’ll run the other way and be far enough along, so that when I pivot back, I’ve got him-

“Todaaaaay, Ryland.”

“Shut up.”

“Come make me!” He flips me off from across the castle.

I huff, deciding to put my plan to the test.

I lurch right, taking four or five steps.

Just as I expected, Colt vanishes to the left.

I turn again, going back the way I came.

“WOAH-! What the fuck?! Oof-!”

We meet on the connecting bridge, and I slam into him, the both of us tumbling down to the metal, wrestling for the upper hand.

“Did you teleport?! How the hell did you get to me?!” Colt growls, shoving at my arm with one hand, and my face with the other.

“No! I just- urgh-! I just predicted how you’d move, and as usual, I was right!” I move my head out of the way, managing to get a leg over Colt, swinging myself upright, holding him down to the platform with my body weight.

“I’m not that predictable.” Colt huffs, trying his hardest to push me off.

“Wrong.” I swat his arms away, snickering down at him. “I told myself if I fake you out, you’d take off running full speed the other way, and that’s what you did!”

“So that’s what you were doing standing there buffering?” Colt snorts.

“Shut up, I was thinking.” I shove a hand under one of his raised arms, jabbing him through his jacket.

Colt shoves my hands onto away with a gasp

“Ha! Are you seriously still ticklish, Colton Seavers?”

“I literally just moved your hand away.”

“Yeah, and you gasped!”

“So fuckin’ what?!”

I smile, reaching down and squeezing Colt’s sides with an obnoxious “tktktktk!” Sound.

His muscles tense, but he barely reacts.

“Oh come on you’re holding it in!”

“I’m not holding shit in!”

“Ok well- you just ate a Mexican pizza from Taco Bell, so I know that’s a lie…”

“Not what I mean, dumbass.” Colt rolls his eyes. “I’m trained to take hits and impacts.”

“Oh bullshit!”

“Try!”

I scowl at him, taking him up on the challenge.

I jab him in the side, ribs, chest, and stomach, and all I get is the occasional sharp exhale.

“See?” He smiles proudly.

“Ugh…”

“YOU on the other hand…” Colt shoots both hands to my hips, squeezing me firmly.

I shriek, teetering backwards, and Colt slowly sits up, our positions switching horrifyingly quick.

“You’ve never grown out of it, have you?” He swings a leg over me now, anchoring me to the playscape like I had done to him a moment ago, the moon behind his head casting him in ominous shadow.

“C-Colt-! CohOHOHOLROHON-! N-NOOOHOHAHAHA!!”

“Ha! You never lost it! Ohhh this is incredible!” Colt grins, dragging his hands up and down my ribs, fingers vibrating maddeningly fast against the bone. 

“COLT ATOHOHOP! I- IT’S LATE WE CAN’T MAKE THAT MUHUXH NOISE OUT HERE!”

“Then shut up. You don’t see me screaming bloody murder.” He snickers, bringing both hands up to my arms.

“Hey- you when we were little, and Holly was trying to position us for some dumb family photo, and you freaked the fuck out when he grabbed you by the arms?” Colt gripped my by the shoulders as he spoke.

“Cohoholt… c’mon…”

“You think that still works?” He tilts his head, suddenly grabbing me by my biceps, squeezing up and down my arms, shoulder to elbow.

I snort, thrashing around in place. Why does that even work on me?”

“AAAHAHA— STOOOHOHOP XOLT AAAHAHA-!”

“No way! Oh god I’ve gotta tell him about this later! You’re ticklish in the weirdest places, man.” He turns his wrist to skitter his fingers over my elbow, and I jerk like I’d been shocked.

“AaaAAAAH! DON’T!” I theash around under Colt’s weight, only managing to turn myself onto my stomach, and give an honest effort to pull myself away.

“Where the hell are you goin’ Ry?” He grabs me around the waist, digging his fingers into the bone of my hip.

“AAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA-! STAHAHAP STOP STOPIT!!”

“My god, I’m just holding you- I’m not even tickling you, you’re moving against my hands.” He chuckles, moving his hands up to my back.

“Now this, you can laugh about.”

“SHIHIHIT- AHAHAHA-! AGH-! COLT KNOCK IT OHOHOFF!!” I cry out, pounding my fist uselessly on the platform.

Colt runs a knuckle up and down my spine with one hand, the other scratches shapes between my shoulder blades.

“COGOHOLT! YOU’RE GONNA KILL ME!” I twist my head to the side, rather disgustingly, on the platform floor.

I catch a glimpse of the door to the building opening from the inside… crap.

“WAHAHAIT! STOP-“

“What?! My god, I’m going easy on you!”

I jerk to the side, throwing Colt off balance, forcing him to pay attention.

“SHHH- Stohohop! I’m serious, quiet!” I push myself up onto my elbows, and signal for Colt to be quiet.

He scowls at me.

“What?!” He whispers.

“Would you open your eyes and observe?! The door! To the building! Look!” I point to the apartment building.

Colt crawls beside me, peering through the bars of the playscape bridge.

Light spills out from the hall inside, and a figure stands at the threshold.

“It’s security you idiot! I told you we couldn’t be loud.” I hiss.

“That was all you, bud.” Colt shrugs.

“You were making me laugh. Would you get down?!” I grab Colt by the front of the jacket, and yank him down beside me.

He bumps his forehead against the bars, eliciting a metallic, reverberating bang.

I snort, putting a hand behind Colt’s neck to keep him down.

“Asshole-!” He whispers.

“Shhh!”

Finally, after a few agonizing moments, the door closes again, and the figure is gone.

“What a shit security guard- he didn’t even come out and check…” I chuckle, looking over to Colt, who I’ve still got by the scruff like a cat.

He gives me a strained “mhm” in reply.

“What’s your deal?”

“Let goho of me.”

I furrow my brow.

“Why’re you so tense? Did you hit your head that hard?”

“Get your hand off my neck.”

“What-? Why?” I repositioned my hands slightly, barely brushing his skin, and he flinches.

I grin.

“Ohhhhh.”

“What?” He hisses.

“Oh don’t give me attitude! You are ticklish, you stupid fuckin’ liar!” I scratch a finger behind Colt’s ear, and he jerks his shoulder up like he heard a mosquito fly by.

“HA!”

“Fuck off!”

“Oh what, the University of Crash Bang Pow didn’t train you not to react to low impact tickling?”

“That doesn’t even make any goddamn sense, tickling is tickling.”

“Ohoh no it’s not. There’s two different types.”

“Oh for god’s saaaake of course your nerdy ass would know that.”

“There’s this, which is called knismesis…” I sit up and reach my hands over to squeeze roughly at Colt’s sides, to which he barely reacts, flinching, swatting my hands, and flipping himself up onto his side to glare at me.

“And then there’s this, garglesis.” I smile, reaching down to gently skitter over Colt’s stomach.

He jumps, rolling completely onto his back, with the most frantic, high pitched laughter I’d ever heard from him.

“H-hahAHAahAHA-! W-WhAT THE FUHUHUCK?!”

“It’s a much more instinctive kind of reaction- usually triggered by a bug landing on your skin, or a foreign object brushing by you… much deeper ingrained, and harder to just ‘teach yourself’ not to react to.”

I explain, bringing my other hand up to join the first, tracing abstract shapes all over Colt’s torso, scribbling my fingers all the while.

He seems almost paralyzed like this, unable to move or fight back, just lying back with hands bent in the air like a t-Rex, giggling and wheezing.

“A-AahaAHHA- OKAHAY THANK YOU PROFESSOR.” Somehow, even through his laughter, he managed to nail the snarky attitude.

“Hush. Clearly you’re enjouoyourself, or else you would have moved by now.”

“I- I CAHAHAN’T! AGH-! SHIHIT- AH-! AH-! NOT THERE! NOHOHO!”

“Where?”

“S-STOMAHAHACH!”

“That’s not your stomach, this is your epigastrium.” I draw a large circle with my finger on the area between Colt’s chest and stomach, marking the area.

“W-WELL GET AWAY FROM MY EHEHEPIC GAS STATION, BITCH!”

I chuckle. “Fine! Here!” I shrug, opting to scratch under Colt’s chin instead. I was having a blast.

“E-EHEHEheheEheHEHAHA- fuhUHUCK-!” Colt curls up on himself, kicking a leg out.

“What’re you a dog? Whats happening with that leg?!” I chuckle, finally letting go, Giving Colt a break.

“Ugh! Oh my GOD that sucked.”

“No it didn’t, you weren’t moving an inch.”

“I told you! I couldn’t! It was like I was stuck there!”

“There’s no way it was that bad.”

“You literally laughed so loud that security came putskde.” Colt sits up, pointing at me.

He got me there.

I grunt in reply.

“Speaking of, how are we gonna get back upstairs?”

“Through the door, and up the elevator? What’re you talking about?”

“No- ‘through ne noor!’ Obviously, dipshit, but clearly security’s been tipped about someone making noise out here. Won’t they get suspicious?”

“They’re gonna see that it was a building resident, and someone who looks a lot like him hanging out in the park, coming in for the night. It’s not a max security prison, Colt, I pay good money for the privilege of wandering around whenever I like.” I say, hoisting myself up with the painted metal bar as a support beam.

“You’re sure they won’t care?”

“Dude, where do they keep you between shoots, Alcatraz? No, they won’t give a shit.” I reach a hand down to Colt, and he takes it, yanking himself up with a grunt.

We both fall silent for a moment, before Colt sighs, looking over the edge of the playscape rail.

“Think I could land that jump?”

“Colton.”

“Yes or no.”

“No nets, no cushions, no harnass…”

“You don’t think I can?”

“You’ll land it. Gravity will make damn sure of that. I can’t promise what condition you’ll be in when you get there.”

Colt hops up onto the railing with surprising ease.

“COLT. Get the fuck down, you psycho- DUDE!!” My heart falls just as quickly as he jumps.

He freefalls down the six-ish foot drop, tucking and rolling on impact with the rubber floor. He stands up, turning around to look back at me.

“Parkour!”

“I’m gonna throw up. Don’t ever do that again.”

“Your turn!”

“Oh youre outta your mind.”

“C’mooon it’s not that far!”

“No, I think I’m gonna use the ladder that the park engineers so graciously provided, thanks.”

I swing myself around, descending the ladder, and hopping down onto the ground.

“Lame.”

“Safe.”

“No, you’re lame.”

“Well, I’ve broken significantly fewer bones than you have being lame, so I’m comfortable with that.” I pick up my tape measure on my way around to Colt.

“High risk, high reward.”

“What exactly is the reward of you risking your life doing reckless, clearly dangerous stunts, besides just saying you did them?”

“It looks cool, and it gets me work. And, if I break something, and show up to work in a cast, all the girls feel super bad for me and dote on me the whole time.”

“Wow. Compelling.”

“It is if you like girls… it anyone for that matter…”

“Yeah. Wrong guy.” I chuckle.

He throws an arm around my shoulders as we walk back to the building, thankfully opting to use the gate this time.

“Feel better after taking a break?”

I think for a moment. “Yeah, I do… I feel kinda behind on work though.”

“Ryland, I guarantee no one else has touched their work yet, if you’ve got two whole weeks to do it. You’ll be fine.”

I sigh. “I guess.”

“And even a rush job from you would be better than a week’s worth of work from anyone else.”

“You think I’m smart, huh?”

“Annoyingly so. Excruciatingly so.” Colt chuckles, jabbing me in the rib to drive the point home. I snort, leaning away.

“Okahahay! Okay… thank you, Colt.”

“Anytime.”

I step forward to enter the building code into the keypad, unlocking the door with a click, and holding it open for Colt.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“Can I stay over? Please please please please?”

I groan. “It’s like midnight, Colton…”

“Please?! I haven’t seen you in like a year!”

“Three weeks…”

“I’m in twin withdrawals…” Colt sighs, leaning his weight over me.

“Oh my god.”

“I’ll buy breakfast tomorrow! Please?! Wherever you want!”

“…Fine, Fine. Yes.fold the couch out.” I deadpan.

“YES!”

“shhh!”

“Right… yes!”

[greatleekate]

Anger Issues

this is the fic i wanted beta read but i got impatient and i finally finished it so im posting it. It’s really long and maybe bad and maybe inaccurate and tbh not very well-researched. It takes a while to get to the tickle scene. Please don’t kill me 🙏

ler!simon, ler!grace, lee!reader

summary: reader struggles with Simon and Grace who have very different ways of dealing with their anger. Simon and Grace turn into something new and reader isn’t sure about it.

———

They’re yelling at each other again. 

I’ve never seen two personalities that are simultaneously so well suited to be best friends and so prone to argument. 

Grace banged his fist on the table and Simon flinched. “Simon, if you would just listen for a second—“

“NO! I’m not gonna fucking listen! How many times have I told you I don’t want that fuckin’ bot near me?!”

“I know. Listen, I don’t like needles either, but we have to take your blood to check for—“

“You don’t hafta do anything!” Simon exclaimed. “Just shove me out the airlock and let me DIE already!”

I took a sharp inhale of breath. Simon hadn’t asked for us to let him die since the first few weeks he was with us. Something must be going on with him aside from this argument.

Grace didn’t seem to see that. He was getting angrier and angrier. “Are you serious? Do you hear yourself right now?” He took a breath, standing up from his chair and shoving it aside, hard. “If you would just stop interrupting me—“

“Why do you care so much about my mutations anyway? Do you think I’m a fuckin’ monster?” Simon snarled.

“ENOUGH!” Grace exploded. “I can’t do this anymore! I need to take your blood to make sure the mutations aren’t killing you. I don’t want you to fucking die, Simon!”

Simon seemed taken aback by the curse. I think it was the first time either of us had heard Grace curse. “Why?” he demanded.

“Because I love you!” Grace cried. 

There was a stunned silence. Even Grace seemed surprised at himself. 

I slipped silently out of the lab and went to hide in the cockpit. 

I hated it when they fought like that. It made so much noise, and this ship was tiny and impossible. I had been thinking lately about Stratt’s deliberations over whether to put the crew in a coma, and how all the research showed we would go crazy and kill each other. 

That was assuming they’d be dealing with me, Grace, Yao, and Ilyukhina—a mild-tempered crew—without knowing Simon and Rocky would eventually join us. That was assuming we’d die after a year or two of completing the mission. 

Simon’s arrival brought out a side of Grace I had never seen before. Grace became completely swept up in making sure Simon was okay, so much so that I faded quietly into the background. Simon provoked the anger issues that Grace had spent years, or so he told me, taming. I had begun to understand the type of person he was when he got kicked out of academia. 

I fiddled with the screens in the cockpit, mindlessly exploring the maps of stars and systems nearby on our course to Erid. 

I liked Simon. I really did. There had been a nearly perfect few weeks, after Simon got over the initial shock of living with us, and before he had started picking fights with Grace daily. The four of us spent most of our time in the don’t-go-crazy-room, exchanging stories of the worlds we grew up in. He was a good guy, and he clearly liked the both of us. We had enjoyed having new company. Grace and I allowed ourselves to behave like kids instead of the saviors of humanity.

It had been so complicated recently. The first few arguments, I had intervened. But then I realized we needed at least one emotionally regulated human around, so I let them yell at each other until they exhausted their voices. 

I listen carefully for noises in the main body of the ship. The yelling had stopped. I heard Rocky’s voice, too far away to be picked up by the translator on my laptop, but I could tell it was somewhat angry. I heard the murmured tones of reconciliation, and then the beeps of Armando instructing Grace on how to draw blood from Simon’s good arm. Then, there was silence. 

I turned back to my own tasks, opening up my laptop and working on some code to automate a systems check for the ship so we didn’t have to do it as often. I had been coding a lot recently. I had become used to being by myself. 

I was so focused I didn’t hear two pairs of footsteps approaching the cockpit. When Grace peeked his head inside, I startled. 

“Hey,” Grace said. 

“Hey,” I replied lamely. 

He navigated his body through the narrow space of the cockpit. Simon trailed after him. I glanced down and saw that they were holding hands. 

Oh. 

That must’ve been why the past few weeks were so tense—they had finally figured out their feelings. I wanted to feel happy for them, but the sight only managed to drive another pang of loneliness between my ribs. 

I chewed my lip as I watched them share a look. It was too quiet for my liking all of a sudden. 

“We’re sorry,” Grace said bluntly. 

“For what?” I asked tiredly.

“For fightin’ too much,” Simon said softly. 

I set my laptop aside and rubbed my eyes. “Okay,” I muttered. 

It was quiet again. Somehow, it didn’t feel resolved. 

“Are you okay?” Simon ventured.

“No,” I said quietly. “I don’t like yelling. I’m tired. And I’ve never seen you act the way you have been acting the past few weeks,” I said to Grace.

Grace winced. 

“And I’m lonely.”

They looked guilty. Grace dropped Simon’s hand. 

“No, don’t do that,” I sighed.

I picked up Simon’s hand and put it back in Grace’s. 

“Just get your act together, and I don’t want to hear more yelling on my ship,” I said firmly, as if that was the end of it.

*** 

Technically, no one was fighting anymore. Grace and Simon had evened out into a peaceful existence. They solved their disagreements without yelling. It was quiet again. 

I looked away when they cuddled. I left the room when they kissed. I stopped touching both of them and I kept my distance. They were a pair now, and I didn’t want to interrupt that.

Maybe that’s immature of me. Maybe I’m just punishing myself here. Maybe it’s unrealistic, given that those two are the only humans I’ll ever see again and I need them like I need oxygen. Maybe it’s unfair to them. Maybe they miss me.

I’m sure they don’t. Honeymoon phase, right? I don’t know. Their relationship is definitely atypical of what I was used to seeing on Earth. I had never asked Grace about his dating history, but I got the sense that he wasn’t interested in romance or sex or any of that. I guess that’s why it took me so long to figure out why they had been fighting so much.  

Rocky’s new favorite way to piss me off is to find me in the cockpit (my permanent hiding spot, it seems) and use his echolocation to narrate Simon and Grace’s more intimate activities wherever they are in the ship.

“What is purpose of using mouth, question?” Rocky needled. “Grace puts mouth all over Simon body. Very gross. Disgu~ust.” 

“Stop it, Rocky, I don’t wanna know,” I sighed. It’s bad enough that I can hear them going at it when I’m trying to sleep. 

Rocky did the Eridian equivalent of a chuckle. He paused for a few seconds, echolocating to another part of the ship. “Another question: why Grace not take clothes off?”

I turned to Rocky. “What?”

“Grace touch Simon intimately, but not other way around,” Rocky explained. 

“That’s… strange,” I murmured. I caught myself: “Wait—this is none of my business.”

Rocky chittered smugly.

***

So, I did some research. Shut up.

I don’t know a ton about Simon in comparison to the way I am extremely familiar with Dr. Ryland Grace. I could be right that Grace is somewhere on the asexuality spectrum. And that would probably translate to a slightly unique relationship between him and Simon. 

I don’t know why I care so much. It’s just boredom, I’m sure. I was just curious. I’m cooped up and I’ve gotten nosy. Nothing else.

***

I’m stuck in the same room as them. 

There was a hairline crack in Rocky’s tunnel that we hadn’t noticed and some ammonia leaked into the dormitory. Rocky ordered us to hang out in the lab until it’s fixed. 

“Hey, stranger,” Grace said lightly as I set my stuff down in the corner of the lab. 

“Hey,” I said, turning around and trying to bury myself in data.

“Whatcha working on?” Simon asked, wandering over. 

I perk up a little, always happy to talk about my work. “The Hail Mary has been collecting spectral data during our journey to Erid,” I explain. “I’ve been analyzing it as we go. Some cool stuff in here.”

Grace walked over to see, ‘ooh’ing and ‘ahh’ing as I flipped through photos the ship’s cameras had taken. It’s the first time they’ve paid attention to me in a while. My fingers trembled slightly on the keyboard. 

Simon put his hand over my shaky one. I froze. I realized they were both very close behind me and I felt two conflicting needs—for some air and for more, more, more. 

“Are you okay?” Grace asked. I had stopped talking mid-sentence. 

“I’m fine,” I said, turning back to my work. Simon stopped my spinny chair halfway, and then turned me around to face them. 

Simon’s hand was braced on the desk next to me and Grace was also hovering very close. I was pretty much speechless. I hadn’t been this physically close to a person in a long time. 

“Something’s wrong with you,” Simon said bluntly. “We didn’t fix it last time and m’tired of it. Spill.”

“I- I’m lonely,” I said, again. “But I’m trying to give you guys space to…be you. To be…a thing together.”

“We’re not anything without you,” Grace replied, his eyes bigger and wetter than usual. Damn, it’s going to be difficult to keep my distance if he keeps looking at me like that.  “You are,” I said. “You’re definitely something. I don’t… I don’t know what you guys are. But I’m trying not to interrupt.” 

“But you’re forcing yourself into solitary confinement,” Simon all but growled. 

I got the sense that he knew a thing or two about solitary confinement.

“And stop saying ‘interrupt,’ because you won’t,” Grace added. “We’re a crew. A team. And we need you.”

“Okay?” Simon probed.

“Okay,” I agreed. 

***

Rocky finished dealing with the ammonia leak. 

Grace and Simon had been gracious enough not to sit in each other’s laps and make eyes at each other in my presence, but I still scurried off to the cockpit as soon as possible. 

I almost forgot about the agreement I’d made with them, so used to my routine of hiding. Simon poked his head into the cockpit and cleared his throat. 

I startled.

“You’re doing it again,” he complained. Grace peered into the hatch behind him. 

“Sorry,” I said sheepishly. 

“That’s fine,” Grace said cheerfully. “We’ll come to you. As long as you need us to.” 

Simon sat himself down in the chair next to me and Grace floated around the small room, examining all the little objects and clutter I had accumulated in the past few weeks. A small model that I had used to teach Rocky yesterday about circuitry was disturbed by Grace’s movements and bonked me on the head. 

It was unusual to have them both in the tiny space I had claimed. 

It was much more crowded.

I yelped as Simon grabbed my waist and repositioned me. “What are you doing?” I asked, blushing furiously at the close proximity.

“M’braiding your hair. Stop moving,” he replied gruffly. 

I relaxed after a few minutes. I forgot how soothing it is to have someone touch your hair. Grace watched with a pleased smile as my eyelids fluttered to half-closed. I felt my heartbeat slow and the prickly feeling of emptiness in my skin, of a lack of sensation, subside.

I felt tears well up in my eyes when he tied off the braid with an elastic and patted my shoulder. Grace sat up in alarm. “Why are you crying?” he asked anxiously.

I wiped furiously at my eyes. “It just reminded me of my mom. She used to… braid my hair.”

I felt Simon’s strong arms—one flesh, and one prosthetic—close around my waist again and pull me in. He hugged me to his broad chest. I was smaller in comparison, a detail that felt strangely good. “It’s okay,” he murmured quietly. “Don’t cry.”

Grace pushed himself forward and hugged me from the front.

I took it in slowly. 

Visuals? Grace’s corny t-shirt. Smell? Simon’s shampoo, and the faint smell of sweat. Probably mine. Hearing? My crew’s steady breathing in my ears, and Rocky clanking away distantly in his tunnels. Touch? Strong arms surrounding me. Taste? The salt of my own tears.

I was still overwhelmed. 

“Guys…”

“Mm?” Grace murmured. 

“I can’t…”

“You can’t what?” Simon encouraged. 

“I can’t handle this much, but I need more,” I exhaled shakily. Simon tried to pull away. “No, don’t stop—“

I was crying again. 

Grace leaned back from the hug to look at my face. God, he was so close to me. 

“Fudge,” he whispered. He looked up at Simon. “Si, we messed up.”

“M’sorry,” Simon murmured into my hair. “We didn’t know it was this bad.” 

I struggled against his grip. “I can’t—I can’t be doing this…”

“Why?” Simon murmured, arms loosening. 

“I’m too needy, it’s too much, this isn’t normal—“

“S’not too much,” Simon interrupted.

“Your feelings are perfectly normal,” Grace chided in a gentle, teacherly voice. “This is what happens when people get lonely and isolated.” 

“But you guys are—“

“Just shut up and let us love you,” Simon interrupted. 

I stopped protesting. 

“Our lives aren’t normal anymore,” Grace muttered, stroking my cheek gently. “Why should the three of us try to be normal?”

“Okay,” I said. And it really was final this time. 

I went limp and compliant in Simon’s arms. He made a pleased noise and turned me around to face him. He pressed me closer and rubbed a hand up and down my back. I buried my face in his neck. 

It felt so good, I almost felt wrong enjoying it. 

Simon understood that, I think. It took him a while to get used to us touching him in the beginning. He was always saying something about Eden and being a sinner. 

Grace communicated something to Simon behind my back, and I heard Simon chuckle and then make an “mm” noise. 

“Hey,” Grace said. “Can we cheer you up?”

“What do you mean?” I mumbled, still too busy enjoying the hug.

“I wanna see a smile,” Simon said into my hair. 

“No, I’m too busy being pathetic right now,” I muttered. 

“Why couldn’t the astronaut book a room on the moon?” Grace said, already chuckling at the answer. 

“Why?” I grumbled into Simon’s shirt. 

“Because it was full,” Grace wheezed. 

“I’m not laughing at that bullshit,” I deadpanned. Simon chuckled at my reaction. 

I cracked a smile despite myself. 

“Theeere we go,” Grace grinned. 

Simon poked at my sides. “How about a laugh?”

“Sihimon, don’t—“

“Ooh, good idea,” Grace snickered. 

I tried to use my inertia to get away, but Grace was in the way. I pushed off of his chest to try to get to the door, but then Simon blocked me. 

“You’re not gonna escape if it’s both of us,” Simon chuckled. 

They grabbed me and I squirmed wildly, legs pinwheeling like a cartoon character in zero gravity. 

“C’mon guys, I’m not sad anymore, just hohold on—“

“Nope. Too late,” Grace replied. “You’ve been a sad sack for too long.”

“Sad sack?” Simon chuckled, busy wrangling my arms and pulling them over my head. 

“Yep,” Grace said cheerfully, wiggling his fingers towards my now-exposed torso. 

I squealed and squirmed around. “Grace! Don’t- Simon, let me go right now,” I demanded. 

“Sorry, you need this,” Simon justified. 

Grace buried his fingers under my arms and I shrieked. My body tensed up with the urgent need to pull my arms down. I struggled uselessly against Simon.

“Aww, is someone ticklish right here?” Grace teased, poking and digging one finger under each of my arms. 

Simon and I both cringed at the baby-talk. I was too busy laughing, but Simon groaned in embarrassment: “Grace….”

Grace laughed at us. “Simon, I’m not even tickling you right now, why are you embarrassed?”

I turned my head to look at Simon’s red cheeks. “You’re cuhute,” I giggled. 

“You’re not in a position to make fun,” Simon growled, pinching up my side to add on to Grace’s tickling.

I shrieked with laughter. “AHAHAHA- wait, I’m sohorry- Simon, Grahahace, I’m sorry—“

Grace’s hands migrated down to my stomach. He yanked up my shirt to untuck it from my tied-off jumpsuit. “Maybe now you’ll laugh at my jokes,” he commented, clawing rapidly at my bare tummy. 

“YOUR JOHOKES SUCK AHAHASS—“ 

Simon sucked his teeth. “I think you’ll regret saying that…”

“What do you call two dinosaurs who got into a car crash?” Grace asked. 

“I dohon’t knohohow—“

“Tyrannosaurus wrecks!” Grace giggled. 

“Not- FUHUNNY!!” My protest turned into a scream of laughter as he nuzzled his stubbly face into my belly. 

Simon’s thumb massaged into my hip and I shrieked. “I don’t know, you seem to be laughin’ a lot, angel,” he murmured in my ear. My face burned hotter at the pet name—I’d only ever heard him use it for Grace. 

Grace pouted. “You stole my line.”

“I have a better joke for you,” Simon said conspiratorially into my ear. “He’s right in front of you.”

Grace sputtered in indignation as I laughed from genuine humor. “Wha- Hey! Not cool!”

Grace squeezed rapidly up my thighs. “What are you laughing at, huh?”

I descending into snorting giggles. “S’NOHOHOT MY FAULT! It was SIMON!!”

“Oh yeah?” Simon teased in my ear. “You laughed, though, sweetheart.” 

He pinched up my ribs and kneaded into each pressure point with terrifying accuracy. 

“You laugh, you lose,” Simon added in a tone that sent shivers down my spine. 

I let my head fall weakly onto Simon’s shoulder, kicking desperately. My laughter turned breathy. Their fingers slowed down. 

“You feeling better?” Grace asked. 

“Noho, I’m feeling like I’ve been tohortured,” I fired back. One reprimanding squeeze from Simon set me straight. 

“Good,” Grace said with a dopey smile. He leaned up and pressed a scratchy kiss under my jaw. 

I froze. What did that mean? It must have showed on my face, because I felt a laugh rumble through Simon’s chest. 

Simon grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “I bet Rocky’s ready to sleep soon,” he said. “Let’s go watch.”