i have had blogs before but was quickly burned out with them so I am actively trying to avoid burnout this time!
So hi, I will mostly be posting random doodles from my sketch book and maybe write some tk fics but I warn you it will be once in a blue moon if I am lucky with inspo and time because life is stretching me thin as of late.
Also remember I am not interested in corn so please NSFW don’t follow but interactions are okay!
raspberries are such a silly tactic. its unexpected and causes a tingly feeling spreading throughout your body. there’s sm places to blow raspberries like the neck (back of neck), ribs, stomach, sides, hips, and ears raspberries get me all giggly and shy,, gosh it’ll feel amazing,,
oohhh to be pinned by someone and they said they’ll blow a raspberry, taking a deep breath but not actually doing it just to
mess with me. letting the feeling of anticipation drive me insane.
“I’m feeling famished.. am growing hungry for something.. do you know what i could go for, sweetheart~?”
…..
“raspberries!”
then they blow the most awful raspberry on me… “ahaww~! listen to yourself! squealing and laughing~.. oh i could listen to it all day...”
Heyyyyy team :) it’s been a hurricane of a month, y’all, I am so sorry I let you guys starve since the Fourth…
This one’s silly, it’s goofy, it’s dumb. I needed some levity, and I k ow you guys like the banter, so come get dinner. Also, I left some notes at the bottom of this fic to help you better visualize the setting, since I kinda changed up the greenhouse layout a little since Percarious Plant. So check that out before or after, whatever you want.
And as usual, preemptive apology for the typos that are 100% there… tumblr bugged out and erased like half my edits earlier, so… who knows what I missed on my second pass…
TW: swearing, splinters?? Does that count? Brief mentions of nausea
❦ Simon needs help with chores in the greenhouse. Unfortunately for Grace, he’s the only help around for lightyears…
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
“Mmm?”
“Ryland Grace.”
I groan, squeezing my eyes shut, dragging the quilt over my head.
It’s mid morning by now, I’m sure of that, but I had no interest in getting out of bed.
School was on summer break as of this week, I had nothing to do in the lab, nothing to grade, and no pebbles to watch - all my schedule called for, was rest.
…
In a perfect world, rest is why is get. But unfortunately that’s not where I am.
“AaAUGH-! Owwwuhhh…” I gasp, a sudden, great weight fallis on top of me crushing me against the bed.
“Simon- get off, you ACME anvil of a man.” I growl from under the quilt.
“It’s 11:25.”
“Breaking News, stay tuned for the weather.”
“Get up.”
“For what?! I’ve got nothing to do!”
“I need your help.”
“Ask Rocky.”
“He can’t help me with this.”
“Oh of course not…” I grumble.
Simon grabs the quilt, nearly grabbing my nose in the process, and yanks it down. “What’d you say?”
I hiss, stung by the chilly air of the bedroom prickling my skin pulling my arms up to my chest.
“Nothing. Just- why does this have to involve me on my break?! Third day of summer break, and you want me up and mobile at eleven in the morning?!”
“You’re acting like I’m waking you up early. I’ve been up since 6.”
“That is sooo cool, and sooo not my problem or business.” I mutter.
“Oh my god… will you just come on? I’m not asking you to re-shingle the roof, Princess, I just need you in the greenhouse.”
I sigh. “With what…”
“Weeding.”
Weeding?!
“Is the roof still an option, or…”
“It won’t kill you to get your dainty little hands dirty for a little while.”
“Dainty?! Excuse you, my hands are bigger than yours! Nothin’ dainty about em’!” I sit up sharply, raising a hand, challenging a comparison.
“Okay then prove it and come help me clean up the greenhouse. Just the central circle - it’s not like we’re cleaning out the whole place.” He raises his hand to mine, palm to palm. I was right, I’ve got about half a knuckle on him.
“Don’t say we, there’s no we, this is all you, all Simon. Grace hasn’t agreed to anything.” I lower my hand, narrowing my eyes at Simon.
He takes a breath, standing up off the bed, freeing me from beneath him.
“Fine, You know what? Fine, whatever… I wanted to clean out the central circle to make sure it looked nice for my seedling, which I think I’m finally ready to plant…” he shrugs, looking down at his pendant, picking it up y, albeit a bit dramatically.
“Thought it’d be nice to do it together, but… no, you’re right, you’ve had a long semester, get some rest, Angel.”
Simon drops the pendant back to his chest, giving me a nod, and making his way to the door.
I stare at his blurry figure languidly moping out of the room.
What a manipulative, sly piece of-
-
“Shit- I forgot to grab a bucket…” Simon grumbles, dropping to his knees in the dense foliage, tightening the Velcro of his garfen glove on his wrist.
“Already got one.” I drop down next to him, setting down two plastic drum buckets I’d been carrying.
“Perfect, thanks.”
“Mhm…” I look out over the central circle of the greenhouse, the sunlight dappled sproutlets bathing the space in a vibrant, chartreuse glow, that sparkled with tiny dewdrops.
The greenhouse was always beautiful, thanks to Simon’s diligent cwre. It was the closest thing to a forest back home I’d I’d seen, smelled, or felt for years. Honestly, the serenity of the space made the chore much more pleasant.
“Soooo… what exactly are we removing? The sedum seems pretty dense.”
Simon hums, pushing around some of the tiny succulents, until a strikingly out of place plant springs up, clearly unable to unfrul from beneath the ground covering without help.
“These. Thankfully the sedum is thick enough to snuff out most of these little suckers, but every so often they slip through the cracks…” Simon growls the last bit of his sentence, twirling a gloved finger around the stem of the plant like a corkscrew, and yanking it out with ease.
“Woah- how’d you just do that?!”
“What- pull the plant up?”
“Yeah- it was so smooth!”
Simon swipes his hand over the lush ground again until another wayward weed springs out.
“Get down by the bottom of the stem, curve your finger around it to get a decent grip, and…”
He yanks the plant free, holding it up like a freshly caught fish.
“Pull it out. Easy.”
He drops the plant in the bucket with its discarded companion, and returns to the sedum.
“Right… okay…” I sigh, scanning over the greenery for a good place to start. I figure there’s hardly any difference, and drop my hand into the lush, gliding back and forth, waiting for-
“Oh-!” A gnarly looking weed jumps out, taller, and a little chunky.
“Did that scare you?” Simon snickers at me, ripping another plant out of the soil.
“It lunged at me! Of course I jumped.” I huff.
“It lunged at you… with its little plant legs… Ryland it’s a plant.”
“A plant with a vendetta.” I grumble, throwing Simon a glare, then giving the same look to the plant.
In a much clumsier movement than Simon, I grab the plant down by the bottom, and pull.
It… doesn’t come out smoothly.
I manage to strip most of the epidermis of the stem completely off, staining the fingers of my glove dark green. The stem snaps about halfway up, leaving it dangling a bit morbidly by the middle.
“We’re pulling weeds, not degloving them.”
“Would you hush? It’s my first one, gimme a break!”
“Baby’s first gardening chore?”
I snap the top broken half of the plant off, throwing it at Simon.
He catches it with a reflexive swipe, spiking it into the bucket.
“Keep throwin’ the plants around and you’re gonna be in here every week pulling the new weeds you’re spreading.”
“How do you even know there were seeds on that part of the plant?”
“Who’s the botanist and who’s the molecular biologist?”
“Whatever…” I grumble, looking down at my maimed plant, honestly feeling kinda bad for the thing.
Better put it out of its misery.
I take hold of the stem again, with a bit more purpose this time, and pull the remainder of the plant out with a satisfying, muffled rip.
“Got it.” I smile, discarding the stumpy plant.
“Good! Only a hundred more to go.”
Right…
I sigh, lowering back down to the sedum, scrounging for more.
-
It feels like it’s been hours… apparently it’s only been about forty minutes.
I’m hot, I’m sweaty, and my knees hurt… the only reason I’m not complaining, is because of how important this seems to be for Simon.
And I know he’d do the same for me…
I still rather barrel roll the Hail Mary than pick these things…
“Gettin’ bored?”
“What?”
“You’re slowing down over there.”
“It’s 10,000° degrees and humid in here, I’m just sluggish.”
“Then take your shirt off.”
“…pardon?”
“If you’re hot, take off your 100% cotton, insulating, tin foil shirt. It’s black. You’re just absorbing heat.”
“Huh… yeah I guess you’re right…”
“Did we get that on tape? Was anyone recording?!” Simon makes a dramatic production of looking around for his imaginary audience.
“Oh hush, you.”
I look down at the rather thick Cats t-shirt clinging to my chest. The more I acknowledge it, the hotter I feel.
In the sense of temperature, of course.
I roll up the hem, sliding the shirt over my head, and tossing it to the side.
“You’re joking.” Simon chuckles.
“What?!”
“A tank top too? So you’re complaining about the heat and you were wearing two layers, you psycho?!”
“It was cold in the temperature controlled house, gimme a break!”
“Unbelievable.”
“It’s a workout shirt, Fillet-o-Fish, it’s breathable.”
“Yeah, and it’s also black. Double insulation.” Simon retorts, yanking a couple more weeds up. “Looks good though.”
“Thanks!” I smile proudly, sitting up and flexing my arms and chest his way.
“Alright, calm down.” Simon chuckles, lifting his living arm, flexing it back at me, completely shadowing me with just the one arm…
“You’re annoying.”
“No, I’m Simon.”
“That’s such a Ryland Grace joke to make.” I chuckle, returning to my patch of the sedum.
“Well when you live with the guy, he starts to leave an impression.”
“You love my humor.”
“It’s that or the vacuum of space…”
“Whahahat?! You think I’m gonna throw you into space if you don’t like my jokes?!”
“That was also a joke, Angel.”
“…wasn’t very funny…” I murmur.
Silence as thick as the humid greenhouse air falls for a minute or two, broken only by the sound of roots separating from soil, until simon speaks up again.
“Wanna play a game?”
“Mmmmaybe? Kinda? …Yes?”
“Let’s set a timer for ten minutes, and whoever picks the most weeds in that time wins.”
I sit back on my knees, looking across the patch to Simon.
“What do we win?”
“You pick what you want, and I’ll pick what I want.” Simon shrugs.
“Okay… if I win… you’ve gotta pebblesit for Willow and Oakley next Thursday.” I smile.
“What?!”
“Yeaaaahahahah!” I grin, clapping while Simon groans.
“All seven of those little boulders?! Weren’t they just here last weekend?!”
“Yeah, they were. Knocked me out, too.”
“Don’t they have Eridian babysitters? When did we become K-12 and daycare?!”
“Well, Willow and Oakley are friends of Adrian and Rocky, so it’s not like they’re just some randos. Their kiddos were in my class a few semesters ago, so their parents already trust us to watch them.”
“Still… seven pebbles in one house… Hell of an ask, friends of family or not… whatever, okay sure. I’ll agree to that.”
I pump my fist in the air with a quiet “yes!”.
“Hold on, Hotshot, you haven’t won shit yet - I haven’t even decided my prize.”
“Well hurry up!”
“If I win, then…you get to finish grading the botany class finals.”
“Oh that’s not bad, okay.”
“I’ve got 43 students this term.”
“…”
“And I’ve graded maybe 12.”
“Good gravy… okay, yeah that’s about even with my prize. Deal.”
“Perfect. I’ll go grab my timer from the workshop. Empty the buckets out so we both start at 0.”
“On it.”
We scamper off to complete our respective tasks, reconvening with two empty buckets, and a base-6 timer set hopefully to something near 10 minutes.
“Okay. You ready?” Simon calls to me from diametrically opposite my position in the central circle garden. .
“Yep, ready.”
“Okay… three, two, one… go!” The timer begins to click, and the two of us are off - down on hands and knees like hound dogs, combing through the sedum as quick as possible, ripping weed after weed, probably getting more done in the first two minutes than we had the last hour.
By the time three minutes pass, my bucket is already just about a third full. Of course, that’s without squishing them all down to eliminate airspace, but that’s neither here nor there.
“How’s it goin’ over there?” Simon calls out.
“Fine, you? How much have you got?”
Neither of us break focus.
“About half. You?”
“What?! Already?!”
“Maybe you’ve got a bad patch, I dunno.”
“No shot, we’re doing a weigh in after.”
“I mean I figured we would, but if it makes you feel better to declare it like war, go ahead.”
I huff, shuffling a few feet over, trying out a new spot with some success.
A few hearty weeds jump out at me, much tougher than the ones we’d been picking so far.
“Any luck there?”
“Yes, actually there’s a bunch he- OW-! Ow ow-!”
I wince, sitting up sharply, clutching my hand with a sharp pain in the side of my palm.
“Ohhh come on, drama queen. You can’t distract me just because you’re losing.”
“I-I’m not! I’m not distracting you, jerkwad, something stuck me!” I look down at the culprit. A thick stemmed weed with spiked leaves. It looked a lot like the type you’d find in an overgrown backyard, but this one’s spikes were longer, like little saber teeth protruding from each point.
“Mhm, im sure.”
“I’m serious! You’ve got Paleozoic, monster weeds in here!” I flex my hand, wincing with the sharp jolt of pain it sends up my arm. Something’s in there…
“Simon, I’ll grade your frickin’ papers, I don’t care! This really hurts!” I hiss.
Simon finally looks up, watching me fiddle with the Velcro on my glove.
I hear the clicking of the timer stop, and heavy bootsteps coming my way.
“So you got bitten by a plant…”
“Stop, it’s not funny!”
He chuckles, gesturing down to my hand.
“Take the glove off, let me see.”
I unlatch the Velcro, sliding the glove off carefully, letting it fall to the ground.
“Oh goddd…”
“Hm. Splinter.”
“Ughhh…” I look away, feeling a bit queasy.
“It’s in there pretty good too, jeez…” Simon lifts my hand closer to his face.
“Would you stop narrating it?!”
“What?! Woahhhh why are you so pale?”
I wave him off.
“Don’t worry about me worry about the thorn-!”
“You look like you’re gonna throw up.”
“Just might! Consider it weed killer.”
“Gross… alright, let’s see here…”
Simon touches a finger to the splinter experimentally.
“OW- EuGh…” I let out a shout, followed by a heave.
“Whahat the fuck is your deal?” Simon chuckles. “It’s a thorn, Gracie.”
“It’s a foreign object embedded into my skin, and I can feel its intrusion, and it hurts, and it’s freaking me out.”
“Travelled through space and time…”
“Simon.”
“…almost crashed into a planet…”
“Simwon-!”
“And it’s a splinter that’s come the closest to doing you in.”
“This isn’t a joke, either help me or don’t!” I try to yell at him, but my voice falls hoarse and thin with nausea, wavering by the end of my sentence.
Simon’s focus snaps back to me, looking me straight in the face.
“Woah- woah woah- y-you’re shaking- what the hell?! Okay! Okay, hang on, I’ve got tweezers in the workshop, stay here.”
Yeahhhh… not my coolest or most manly idiosyncrasy, I’ll admit…
I’m terrified of splinters. Always have been. Ever since I was little, getting any little bit of wood, plastic, or thorn stuck in my hand or my foot would set me off worse than a scraped knee.
Something about the fact that the object would have to come back out the way it came in made my stomach churn, and my anxiety flare.
“Okay, found them, lemme see your hand again- are you crying-?”
Well, there definitely were years on my face, but it wasn’t like I was boo-hooing or anything.
“I can’t help it.” I extend my hand out, straight faced with tears on my cheeks.”
My god, pull it together, you’re thirty something!
“It’s fine, it’s okay- I- I’m sorry for teasing you about it, I didn’t realize how serious it was.” I can tell he’s genuinely trying to be sincere, but the controlled smile on his face tells me that he’s trying his hardest not to laugh.
I can’t blame him…
I shrug, looking away while Simon examines my palm.
“How’d it get so deep through the glove..? S’gotta be a pretty sturdy plant… kinda looks like burweed, but mutated..? Or just some kind of lookalike..?”
“Okay, Nat Geo, get a move on.” I snap.
“You’re in no position to have an attitude right now, alright? I’m trying to figure out how to pull it without hurting you.”
“No, you’re playing Name That Plant with yourself and staring at my hand.”
“Hush.
“Urgh…”
“Jesus- okay. Hold still.”
I hold my breath.
“OW-!”
“I literally haven’t touched you.”
“Yes you did I felt it!”
“미치겠네… You felt the idea of the tweezers. The concept of them.”
“No, I felt you jab me! And don’t curse me out in languages I can’t understand!”
“I’m not cursing you out. I can do that just fine in English. Now hold still, and relax, okay? Deep breath.”
I take a deep inhale, and let it out.
“OW- OK STOP.”
“I’m gonna amputate it.”
“You’re pushing it further in!”
“I haven’t even gotten a grip on it yet! I’ve barely reached low-thorn orbit!”
“Just- d-do it fast!”
“And when it breaks, and half of it is unsalvageably lodged in your hand, what then, wiz-kid? Huh?”
“I’m. Gonna. Hurl.”
“Then stay. Fucking. Still.”
I throw my head back with a groan, making my arm as rigid as I can.
“Do not move. I’m serious.”
Simon sighs, gripping my hand tighter, pressing his thumbnail into the unaffected center of my palm, just enough to barely hurt. Distraction.
I shut my eyes tight, feeling the tweezers jostle the intruder, and I let out just about the most pathetic whine as the saber thorn slides out of my skin.
“A-aaAH-!”
“It’s out, Angel, calm down.” Simon says, not letting go of my hand.
I let out a shaky breath, letting my head hang forward.
“You okay? You wanna see it?”
“No.”
“…to which question?”
“Both.”
Simon chuckles, dropping the thorn into my bucket with an audible olop. Horrible.
“Awww, well you did good. You survived.” He perches the tweezers on the edge of the bucket, bringing his now free hand to join the other on mine, rubbing gentle circles into my palm.
“Narrowly. Don’t ask me to pick weeds in here ever again unless Rocky makes some kind of… I dunno, sword-proof xenonite gloves to protect me from your devil plants.”
“Devil plants is a pretty good name. I’m gonna use that.”
“Good! Have at it. It’s accurate.” I shrug.
Simon chuckles, lessening the pressure on my hand, tracing spirals against the skin.
I feel myself tense for a moment, hoping Simon doesn’t notice.
“Does that hurt? You got another splinter?”
Dang it.
“No.”
“Then what was that? Lemme see…”
He raises my hand, squinting at it, and scratching the nail of his index finger against my palm.
“Hehehey-! I said there’s nothing!” I try to yank my hand back, but the unforgiving grip of Simon’s metal arm keeps me right in place.
“You serious?”
“Whahat?!”
Four nails drag across my palm.
“AH- h-hah- quihihit!”
“Your hands are ticklish, you big ball of nerves?”
“Theres absolutely nothing abnormal about that! Why are you shocked?!”
“You’re Right, I really shouldn’t be.”
“Thank you.”
“I mean you giggle like a toddler when I touch your elbow, for fuck’s samke, so…”
“Hey! I-okay, Gills, ear fin, ring any bells?”
“Yeah, well all of that was caused by a horrific mutation, and was completely out of my control. Nice going, asshole.”
I scoff.
“Oh don’t play that card with me!”
“So rude and insensitive… “
“Cry me a river and swim in it.”
“Swim in it?! What’re you trying to give me flashbacks?! My god!”
“That’s such a reach, and you know it!”
“After I tended to your boo-boo, this is how you treat me?”
“Boo-boo?” I quirk a brow, chuckling. “We’re pushing 40.”
“After I fixed your ouchie… y’know what? I know what it is. I didn’t kiss it better. That’s why you’re being so ornery.” Simon grins.
“No correlation. You don’t have to kiss it better, thank you.” I pull at my wrist again.
“C’mere, let me see…” Simon counters my resistance, pulling my hand closer to him with the unfair advantage of xenonite on his side.
“NooOOOO.”
He brings his face down to my palm, blowing against it with an obnoxiously loud raspberry.
“NOOHOHOHAHAHA- SIHIHIMON-!”
“Mmmm-pfffffbt-mwah! Mmmmm-pfffbt-mwah!”
“STOHOHOPIT- STOHOHOP! THIS IS RIDICULOUS-!!” I attempt to pull backward, slipping on the dewy sedum, and landing on my side with my arm sticking straight out like a moron.
“My care and affection is ridiculous? I’m just trying to make sure you’re recovering as best you can.” Simon teases, talking into my hand.
“STOHOHAAAHAP! YOUR BEARD AND YOHOHOUR TEETH, SIMON!”
“What about them?” He asks slowly, scratching his overgrown stubble across my hand.
“AHAHAAAHA-!” I cackle, deciding to give up trying to yank my hand back, instead, managing to curl my fingers into a tight fist, knuckles against Simon’s chin.
“You tryna punch me, Angel?”
“Nohoho! It’s my only defehense!”
Simon smiles down at me, tilting his head away from my fist.
“For your hand, sure…”
“What’s that supposed to mean-?” I stare back at him, curled up on my side with my arm still firmly held up- oh.
“Wait-“
“Yeahhhh.” Simon flashes a sharp, toothy smile.
“N-nonONO-!”
“Yeaaahhh…” he purrs, lowering his hand down, under my arm - slowly.
“StohoHOHOP- SIMOHOHON!”
“Haven’t touched you yet. What is with you and the preemptive reactions to everything? Who hurt you?” Simon chuckles.
“Nohoho one! It’s just anticipAHAHATION.” Simon makes a quick motion towards my ribs, but doesn’t touch me.
Simon snorts.
“Shut uhuhup!”
“You’re like a metal detector…”
“Whahahat?!”
He moves his hovering hand across my body, stalking above my stomach.
I curl in on myself, wheezing out laughter I just couldn’t seem to control.
“The louder you get, the closer I am to…”
Simon moves his hand swiftly back under my arm, and he’s rewarded with a startled, yelping cackle.
“Gold.” His hand latches onto my uppermost ribs, vibrating his fingertips deep into the bones behind the hollow of my still extended arm.
“AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAA- FUHUHUHUDGE-! AAAH-! SIHIHIMON-!” I shriek, kicking and writhing on the garden floor, my free hand swatting and reaching for Simon’s.
“Kinda pitchy today…”
“WHAHAT’D YOU CALL ME?!”
“Pitchy. I said pitchy. Bring it down a little and you might be able to hear me.” Simon snickers, sliding his hand down my ribs, aiming for my stomach.
Reflexively, I move to roll onto my stomach to guard myself.
In order to not rip my arm out of place, Simon has no choice but to let me roll.
What I don’t expect however, is the complete release of my wrist, only to immedietly feel the same grip on my hair.
“O-OW-! Ow ow- Simon-! That hurts!” My eyes squeeze shut as I’m dragged rather forcefully up into my elbows.
“Grace! Watch what the fuck you’re doing!”
“The hell are you talking about?!”
“Look down, idiot!”
“You’re holding my head back! I can’t!”
Simon growls under his breath, shoving my head slightly down.
I open my eyes, and look down into the sedum.
A tall, gnarled, spiked plant looked right back at me, exactly where my face would have landed.
“Where did that come from-?”
“You probably jostled it free, wriggling around like a lunatic.” Simon explains, loosening his grip on my hair, fingertips splaying out across my scalp.
“A shudder runs down my back.
“Doesn’t take much…”
“Hush. And thank you, I dunno how I missed that.”
“Mhm. There is no way on Earth, Erid, or AT-5 that I’m gonna sit here picking needles out of your face while you bitch and dry heave, and scream.”
“Okay- It wasn’t that bad.”
“Do not…”
“It wasn’t!”
“Do not even start. I made less of a scene getting my shoulder patched up.”
“Okay, Buddy- You were doped up on painkillers and sedatives and barely awake for that!”
“Torn off limb… half inch splinter… which could possibly… be worse…”
“Stop it, okay? We are not going injury for injury, that’s messed up.”
“Injury is a strong word for a thorn in your hand.”
“It was!”
“Right.”
“Something that causes harm or damage! That’s an injury!”
“Okay Webster, show me the lasting wound you sustained, then.”
Simon releases my hair, allowing me to sit up, forgetting about the devil plant.
“Here!” I scoot myself in front of Simon, sitting crisscross, presenting my hand to him once again, pointing to the… rather tiny… red dot at the top left of my palm. Truthfully the redness was probably more from the tweezers than the thorn itself.
Simon squints, making a visor with his hand over his eyes.
“Right there.” I circle the dot insistently with my index finger.
“Oh! Oh my god it’s gruesome!”
“…alright.”
“Ohhh! It’s horrible!”
“Okay, yes, thank you.” I deadpan.
“How ever will you recover from that… mangled mess of a wound?!” Simon wails, grabbing me by the shoulders, yanking me into his chest, wrapping me in the most theatrical hug I’ve ever experienced, turning me in such a way as to make me look like a dying damsel in his arms.
This guy…
“Okay! I get the picture, it’s a small poke, yes.”
“…I can still hear his voice…”
“I’m dead now?!”
“If only that- ihihif only that… tiny, quarter inch thorn didn’t take him.” Simon tries to stay in character- whatever scatter this is- but he breaks, laughing at himself.
Of course, I laugh too, hand to my face as I shake my head.
“And his laughter…”
“Okahay- enough- HEHEY- c-c’mohohHOHIN- AHAHA-!” I feel a hand drop onto my stomach, pinching and kneading the muscle through my shirt.
“SIHIHIMON! AAAAH-! AaAAAHAHA-!”
“Ugh-! My god you’re sweaty.”
“ITS DEW FROHIHON THE PLANTS.”
“No the fuck it isn’t.” Simon soots his hand up to my collarbone. I sputter, hiking my shoulders up nearly to my ears, hands curled at the wrists at my chest.
“Dew smells like plants and soil. That’s not what I’m getting…”
“WHAHAT-?! I DON’T SMELL!”
“Right.”
“YOU DIDN’T’T LEHEHET ME SHOWER- H-HAHA-! YOU DRAGGED ME STRAIGHT FROM BED TO THE GREENHOUSE!”
“You had the whole morning to get up and shower, lazy bastard.”
“OHOH LIKE YOU SMELL LIKE A BUNDLE OF LILACS 100% OF THEHEHE TIME.”
Simon scoffs, stopping his hand for a moment.
“I don’t smell, it’s a natural musk.”
“Yeah, if the musk is Chicken of the Sea and cortisol.”
“Ohhh you think you’re funny.”
Simon hisses, wrapping one arm around my neck, putting me in a playful headlock. His other hand shifts down to my thigh, squeezing right above the knee, vibrating his fingers into the muscle.
“No you aren’t.” He spider crawls his fingers under my knee, scratching at the crook, and the back of my shin.
“AAAHAHAHA STOOOHOHOP!! GET OHOHOUTTA THERE!”
“And go where?”
“I DOHOHON’T CARE!”
“Interesting…. ‘I don’t care’ instead of ‘stop completely’… curious.” Simon mutters.
The hand of the arm holding me in place curves inward, scritching at the side of my neck, below my ear.
The other hand skitters around my leg again, fingers dancing feverishly over my kneecap, before dragging up to my hip.
I howl, gripping onto the metal arm around my neck, banding against it uselessly with my first.
“AAAAAHAHAHA-! FFFFUUHUHUDGE! FUUHUHUDGE- AH-!!” At this point I’m screaming more than anything else, thrashing around against Simon, trying not to kick and destroy the sedum under my sneakers.
“You’re gonna scare my plants with all this screaming- jeez…”
I thrash about, angling myself away, fending off the hand on my hip as best o can, flipping myself so that my back was against Simon’s chest.
He releases the headlock, opting instead to grab me tight around the middle, pulling me in.
“Where are you going? You’re just spinning around like an idiot! This is worse for you!” Simon chuckles.
Simon releases me, and I push off of him, tumbling into the soft sedum.
“Careful.”
“I- I know… I see it…” I pant, laying flat on my back with a hand on my chest, very aware of the devil plant staring me down a few inches to my left.
“You okay?”
“I’ll let you know when oxygen returns to my brain.”
“I did not hold you that tight. You had plenty of breathing room.”
“I was seeing stsrs…”
“I can show you a real chokehold if you want.” Simon’s voice drops low, and he leans over me with a challenging look.
“No! Nonono, thank you.”
He chuckles, sitting back, arms holding him up behind him.
“Ow-“ he hisses, retracting his real hand, looking down at it.”
“What’s wrong?!” I sit up on my elbows.
“Devil plant.”
“See? Not fun, is it?!”
Simon tilts his hand, observing the thorn in the lower pad of his palm calmly… way calmer than me…
“Need me to get it out?”
“Nah.” He brings his hand to his mouth, the human half, closing his teeth around the splinter, sliding it out without so much as a wince.
Of course he wouldn’t flinch.
I stare at him.
“What? You want it?”
“No. Drop it.”
“‘Drop it’? What am I a dog?” He says through closed teeth, leaning towards me.
STOP! Biohazard! Get rid of that thing, you maniac!”
Simon snickers, turning his head and launching the thorn off like a blow dart.
“Fine, Fine. It’s gone. Why are there so many of these things? I pick weeds every week, there’s no way there should be so many of them.”
“Well I mean the sedum is pretty plush, it comes up almost two inches from the garden floor- so there’s plenty of room under the canopy for stuff to grow without you really seeing or knowing.”
I say, darling a hand through the tiny succulents.
“It probably looks completely clear by the time you finish weeding, but they’re probably still lurking underneath, out of sight.”
“I dunno… I feel like I’m pretty thorough.”
“You are! These guys probably just unfurl slowly. This isn’t a dog at your gardening skill- even the best botsnists back on Earth probably have weeds and pests they can’t get rid of. It’s nature.” I shrug.
Simon grunts, looking out at the central circle garden with annoyance.
“Your garden’s beautiful, Simon. I’ve never seen someone take such good care of plants in my life, don’t let some dumb weeds ruin your pride. Hey! The more specimens you find, the more experimenting you can do with them!”
“I guess.”
“What if you bred together devil plants with the strongest thorns and made like,, a super devil plant!”
“You would hate that.”
“I would! But it’s something you can do! I don’t have to come visit it!” I chuckle.
Simon smiles, shaking his head.
“I think I’m gonna focus on getting the majority of them out before I start playing plant god.”
“Fair enough, I guess.” I look around for the long discarded gardening tools, picking up my gloves, shaking them off, and unlatching the Velcro.
“What’re you doing?”
“…helping you weed?”
“No.”
“What?!”
“You’re done. Take your soft hands back to the house and go back to bed.”
“Wh- okay- first of all-“
“Take a shower first, then go to bed.”
“I’m not going back to bed! I may as well just stay here!”
“Fine, you can stay here, but until we get better gloves, you’re not touching the weeds anymore. I’m rescinding my request for your help.”
“Fish giveth, fish taketh away…”
“Watch it.” He glares at me, and I smile back.
“Well then what am I gonna sit here and do?”
“You can get a move on with grading those botany finals in the classroom.” Simon swipes the gloves from me with a grin.
“Oh come onnnn…”
“Yeah, I didn’t forget.”
“Dang it! Fine…”
Simon snickers, slipping his own gloves on while I stand up, dusting myself off.
“I’ll come join you when I clear this quarter of the circle. Won’t be long.”
“‘Kay…” I mutter, shuffling off towards the classroom.
“…And I’ll help you watch the kids next Thursday. I’m not doing it alone, but I’ll help.”
“Really?!”
“Yes.”
“Even though I lost?!”
“Wasn’t a fair loss, we’ll call it a draw, and split the difference.”
“Yes! Oh you’re awesome! Thank you!”
“You’re welcome Angel.” Simon’s voice softens, and I can hear him smiling without even looking at him.
“See you in a bit.” I wave over my shoulder.
“Mhm, love you.”
“Love you too.”
A/N: Soooo for consistency sake, I made a mock up of the main atrium of Simon's greenhouse to help me visualize while I write. The layout changed from the way I wrote it in Precarious Plant, but I think the way I have it now makes a lot more sense.
Now I'm no architect, so not too much on my drafting skills please...
And while you're here - I realized after writing this that I really relied on the reader to know wtf sedum is, without explaining it too much, so l thought I'd show you, since it's mentioned no less than 946,000 times.
Pretty tight? :) it's so bright and cheery, I love it!
I know Tumblr is full of posts about the virtues of commenting on AO3 fics and such. But like. It works.
I just knocked out 8.5k words in one single day for a chapter update because of one reader leaving one of the most absurdly endearing comments I’ve ever gotten. That is unheard of levels of productivity for me.
The power of the fandom. The power of the comment.
wouldnt it be nice if life was like a movie in the way charecters get flung into groups and they all grow close and get along in just a few days ? /lh hj
Ler!Simon, lee!Reader, Grace encourages the tomfoolery
wrote this with fem!reader in mind (hence discussion of swimsuits) but no pronouns or explicit references to being female otherwise!
This is another bloodymary x reader! Some flirting and a teeeeny bit of suggestiveness but nothing serious. PG-13 lmao.
Thank you SO much to @cacoonedmoonworm for their wonderful art of giant mermaid Simon!! I didn’t exactly go with the original idea in the drawing as far as the tickles go but I still think it’s cute ;)
Summary: Simon discovers a new mutation. Chaos ensues.
______
Every good story deserves a beach episode. Which is why Grace had spent several days with Adrian developing a "summer mode" for the biodome so that the three of us could enjoy the biodome's beach in a more traditional sense.
I sat back on the warm sand and watched Grace try to convince Simon to get in the water. It was really a perfect temperature—Grace had insisted on a summer day that was just warm enough to go in the water, but not hot enough to make us break a sweat. It was soothing and I felt the urge to fall asleep.
Grace and Simon headed towards the water. They had both stripped down to their boxers to serve as swimsuits.
Grace splashed some water on Simon's calves. "See? No blood, it's not scary," he grinned.
Simon had a death grip on Grace's shoulder. His gills rippled slightly across his ribcage at the sight of the water washing over his feet and ankles. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, it's not very deep either. I can teach you to swim, too," Grace said. He was already bounding and splashing deeper into the water, giggling and whooping like a kid.
Simon stood at the waterline anxiously, testing his weight from one foot to the other as his toes sunk into the wet sand. He let Grace take his hand and lead him deeper.
I watched Simon smile and relax a bit when the water lapped at his waist. I heard him say something about how nice the water was. They both looked back at me and I waved.
I saw Grace murmur something to Simon and then he was out of the water and heading towards me. Water ran down his legs and left a trail in the sand.
"You sure I can't convince you to join us?" Grace asked.
"I don't have a bathing suit," I said. "S'not like I can just… strip down to my underwear like you guys."
Grace made big, wet puppy eyes at me. I groaned and looked away.
"Okay, fine," he relented.
We heard a high-pitched yelp just as Grace was about to turn around. We both sat up and saw Simon slip under a wave, submerging him completely. Grace started to rush back to the water.
Grace splashed through the shallows looking for Simon. I got up too, the water lapping at my ankles. "Simon? Simon!" we called.
Grace and I exchanged a worried glance as everything went quiet on the beach. Even the waves seemed to be still.
"Simon?"
We heard a great, heaving sound as the water seemed to lift itself up over a great…big…
Simon?
Simon was suddenly gigantic, roughly proportional to the size of the body of water he was in, such that our artificial "sea" looked it was jacuzzi-sized with him in it.
"What the fuhhhh—fudge?" Grace exclaimed.
"Guys? I don't- I don't know what's happening to me," Simon said. He sounded stressed, but slightly amazed at his new form. "I have a- a tail?"
A long, thick mermaid tail flicked across the surface, spraying us with a fine mist of seawater. It had fins and scales and it caught the light to refract rainbows across the beach.
"Wow, Simon, you're so…" Grace exhaled.
"…Beautiful," I finished, my mouth open in awe.
"Stop," Simon whined, cheeks flushed, and the sound echoed throughout the beach. He immediately slapped his hand over his lips. "Why am I so loud?" He mumbled.
"You're big, buddy," Grace chuckled. He reached his arms up and made grabby hands at Simon. "Pick me up."
Simon gently picked Grace up. I could tell he was being extremely careful. "I don't wanna hurt you," Simon mumbled sadly around the long canines that had grown with his transformation.
"Hey, big guy," Grace said in the sweetest, softest voice I'd ever heard from him. Simon lifted him closer to his face and Grace placed a hand on Simon's much larger cheek. "You're not gonna hurt me. Worst case scenario, you drop me and the water will break my fall."
Simon, placated, glanced across the beach again, his oversized brown eyes landing on me. He brought his hand down to the shore—with Grace still on it, who chuckled and fell back to sit criss-cross-applesauce on Simon's palm—to scoop me up. I yelped and fell into Grace's shoulder as Simon brought us up to his level.
I clung to Simon's thumb and avoided looking down. "I know Grace said it wouldn't be a big deal if he fell into the water but don't you dare drop me," I said sternly.
Simon chuckled, the sound shaking through our bones. "I won't."
Grace stood up on Simon's hand and jumped off the edge, tucking his knees to his chest and shouting "Cannonball!" like a little kid. The impact of his jump splashed up around me. I grinned and watched him thrash about in the water before hopping onto the part Simon's tail that was sitting above the surface.
"Si, this tail might be the coolest thing I've ever seen," Grace said, running a finger across the shiny scales.
"It's not, I'm just—I'm a bit of a monster," Simon mumbled, looking sheepish.
"No way," I spoke up. "You're like a fish."
"Maybe that should be your last name!" Grace exclaimed. "Since you don't have one."
"No fucking way," Simon growled, the end of his tail slapping against the water and spraying Grace.
"Simon Fischer?" I chuckled. "Simon Fisherman, or maybe Fishman—"
"Simon the Fish!" Grace interrupted me between raucous giggles.
"Both of you shush," Simon hissed.
"Whatcha gonna do about it, Fishboy?" Grace wheezed.
Simon made a growly noise and then moved his hand down, holding me dangerously close to the water. He switched his grip so that he was holding me between his thumb and forefinger.
I shrieked. "Si! Wait, don't—I'm sohohorry!"
He lowered me further so that my ankles were submerged. I yelped. "Sorry for what?" Simon rumbled.
"Come ohon! I'm sorry for calling you a fish—Don't get me wet, I'm fully dressed…literally do anything else—"
"Anything?" Simon raised his eyebrows.
"Yes, I just don't wanna get wet—"
"Okay," Simon said cheerfully, scooping me back up into his open palm. I huffed and puffed, catching my breath as he smiled down at me.
There was a brief silence. "What?" I asked nervously.
"You should save your breath," Simon smiled, his canines poking out over his lips again adorably.
Grace chuckled. "Uh oh, someone's in trouble…"
"I- wahait! How come Grace isn't getting punished for any of this—" I started giggling as his large thumb prodded carefully at my tummy.
"Because you've needed to loosen up all day," Simon smirked. "Wouldn't get in the water with us."
"It's nohohot my fault! I can't just—"
"Didn't I say you should probably save your breath?" Simon chided.
I curled up in Simon's palm as he relentlessly poked across my torso. His fingers were large enough to keep my arms mostly out of the way.
"N-ahaha- Simon! Dohon't, I'm sorry—"
"Sorry for what?"
"Mahahaking fun of yohohou…"
Simon shrugged. "Oh, I forgive you for that."
"So STOHOHOP!"
"Nah, this is fun," he grinned. He changed the angle of his thumb so that he could run his fingernail up and down my ribcage, managing to pluck each rib gently along the way. I shrieked and thrashed uselessly in his grip.
"You're squirming too much," Simon complained. He curled the rest of his fingers up to the artificial sky to make a protective fence of sorts. "You're gonna roll right off my hand."
"S'not my FUCKING fault!" I screeched, pushing uselessly at his finger, but he was too big to throw off.
"Woah woah woah," Grace said exaggeratedly from below. "Are you just going to let that language fly, Simon?"
"Course not," Simon muttered. "It's gonna be hard to give a proper punishment with only one hand, but…"
My eyes were blurry from tears of laughter, but I saw him squint in concentration. He brought his thumb and pinky finger around my body and closed them together at the muscle just above my knee.
Then, he squeezed.
I screamed with laughter, my other leg kicking helplessly. "SIHIMON!"
"That's my name," he said smugly. He pulsed his fingers at a faster rhythm.
"Ohoho, there we go," Grace chuckled adoringly from his perch on Simon's tail.
I slapped twice desperately at Simon's open palm, wheezing with leftover giggles as he stopped tickling me. He gently lowered me back to the shore and Grace swam back out to meet me.
Grace stumbled out of the waves and threw his wet body across me, tasering me in the sides. He laughed when I squealed and pushed him away.
"Ugh, Grace, I was wearing white!" I protested, covering my now see-through shirt with my arms.
"Sorry not sorry," Grace laughed and tossed a towel at me. "Couldn't just let Simon have all the fun."
Simon dragged himself into the shallows, upending a ridiculous amount of water over the sand. Grace stretched up comically to the full length of his height and patted Simon's gills dry with a towel. As the gills dried, Simon slowly shrank in size and his mermaid tail transformed smoothly into human legs. Simon sank peacefully into the water from the hips down.
"Uh… Grace?"
"What's up, big guy?"
"I think my shorts ripped and came off when I transformed."
Grace's face turned beet red and I had to hold back my laughter. "Oh!" He exclaimed. "Um, not to worry! I, uh, I got it, here, I'll just—"
I watched as Grace awkwardly try to help Simon wrap himself in a towel while also looking straight up at the artificial sky. Simon tied the towel loosely, just at the end of his happy trail, and Grace choked on his own breath.
I mean, it's not like I wasn't looking either. Just saying.
"Let's get our fish boy home, hm?" I said, patting Grace on the shoulder lightly.
"Yeah—um. Yeah," Grace stuttered.
The three of us ambled up the path back to the house.
"Still not into the 'fish boy' thing," Simon grumbled.
"Too bad, I think it stuck," I teased back.
"We need to see about getting you a proper swimsuit," Grace thought out loud. "I'll ask Adrian."
Simon grinned suddenly. "Yeah, we want you swimming with the fishes," he said. He looked terribly pleased at his own pun.
I giggled despite myself. Grace shook his head.
"You won't laugh at my science jokes but you'll laugh at that?!"
AN: This movie is a new hyperfixtion for me! I needed to get something out for this!
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Grace was a very touched starved person. Spending all this time in space with no other humans around, it could take its tole on you. Especially when you're only friend was a alien. Grace would always push past his feelings about it. It felt silly to him. A grown ass man getting upset about not getting a hug every now and then. Its not like he got many hugs back on earth, the occasional hug from his students, but nothing much. So why was it bothering him now?
Rocky didn't understand that feeling of being touch starved. It was something he never experienced, even when floating in space alone for 46 years. But he always did try to make Grace feel better, He was his best friend after all. When he was only confined to his xenonite ball, he would try his best to show as much affection as possible when Grace hugged him. And as much as Grace appreciated Rocky's efforts, it was never enough for Grace unfortunately, it didn't feel the same when you were hugging a massive ball.
Grace was sitting on the steps of his biodome home, ig had only been months since he forst got here. He was thankful for everything the Eridians gave him. Making him food he could eat, building this home for him, accepting him with open arms. He was looking out at the beach not to far from the biodome. Grace didn't notice it at first, but he heard something, not the usual bulky rolling from rockys xenonite ball, but a soft patter along the sand. Grace looked up, and he Froze. Here was Rocky, running along the beach, not in his ball, but in what looked like a new suit. "Grace! Grace! Rocky make new suit!"
Grace stood frozen, even when Rocky landed at his feet. "Grace like new suit, question?" The suit was tighter, no longer a ball, but hugged Rocky's frame perfectly so be could move around better. But moat of all, he could touch things. The words stuck in Grace's throat as he slowly lowered himself to his knees. Rocky crawled forward. "Grace upset he couldn't touch Rocky. Rocky fix." Grace sucked in air quickly before it got stuck in his throat again. He lifted his arms shakily. Rocky knew almost immediately what Grace wanted and crawled closer, wrapping his two front limbs around Grace tightly. The moment Grace felt that connection, he sniffled, burying his face into Rockys carapace. "Why Grace leaking question? Does Grace not like new suit?" "No, no I do..." Grace let out a watery chuckle. "I'm just happy..." He wiped his eyes. "Humans strange. Leak when sad and happy..." Grace chuckled again. "Yeah... we are..." They stayed like that for a long while. Grace didn't want to let go, neither did Rocky but the looks of it. Seemed like they were both clingy. Grace wanted to take in as much affection as possible. Not wanting to miss out on it again.
"Rocky want to get closer!" Rocky suddenly chirped "Huh? What? Rocky! You're knocking me over!" Grace laughed as he was knocked onto his back. "Wha- what are you doing?!" Grace laughed harder as Rocky started to try worm his way under his sweater. "Rocky getting closer!" "Careful- hey! Cohome ohohon! That tickles!" Grace could feel Rocky's hands press and squeeze into his sides, ribs and stomach. "Rohohocky!" "Oh yes, Rocky forget Grace is sensitive." But even as Rocky said it, Grace could swear he could hear a hint of teasing in Rocky’s voice. "Then stohohop ihit!" Grace exclaimed. "Rocky trying to get comfortable." "My ass!" Rocky was totally doing this on purpose. Wiggling around and digging his crawls into Grace's sides. "Grace squishy. New food helping." "Shuhuhut up!" "Grace so mean to Rocky. Rocky only want to hug." "IhIhI swear tohoho god, roHOHOHOCK! NOHOT THEHEHEHERE!
Grace shrieked when Rockys claws slipped down to his lower stomach as he tried to push his way up further into his sweater. Grace tried to arch his back as he practically squealed. But Rocky's weight held him down. "ROHOCK COHOHOME OHON!" Grace cried out. This felt so stupid. "Grace so mean to Rocky!" "IHIM NOHOT BEHEHEING MEHEHEAN!" Grace kicked and yelped out in protest. "Liar! Grace so mean mean mean to Rocky! Told me to be quiet!" One of Rockys back legs stomped down as he spoke, poking Grace's hips. "Grace apologise now, statement!" Grace realised how stuck he really was, Rocky was under his sweater. He couldn't exactly reach to stop those tickling limbs, and somehow, that made it feel so much worse. When the Eridian got no response other than squeales and laughter, he brought two claws down onto Grace's hips in a drilling motion. "ROHOHOCKY!" Grace thrashed hard, or as much as he could with the weight on top of him. "Grace apologise!" Rocky pushed stubbornly. He was not stopping until he got what he wanted.
"IHIHIM SOHOHORRY!" Grace hadn't realised how red his face must've been. He thanked the stars Rocky couldn't see it either. The moment the apology left his lips, Rocky stopped. Grace lay on the steps panting. "Ahand I'm the mehean one..." Grace countered as he sucked in air. Resting his hand were he could feel the Eridian in his sweater. Rocky started to wiggle again and Grace tensed for more tickles. But none came. What did however was Rocky's head. (Or what would be a head.) Poking out from the neck hole in Grace's sweater. Grace laughed again at how silly it was.
"You're so dumb..." Grace shook his head with a forced smile. Rocky let out a delighted noise, finally going still. "Grace wanted hugs. Rocky fix." Grace huffed. This was going to be a common thing. He could tell. He should expect more hugs, but even more stretched sweaters.
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Fic inspired slightly by the art above which belongs to @blitzzeri 💙
I know its short but I'm on vacation and wanted to get SOMETHING out before I start my requests when I go home. 🙏
Adrian just wanted to see mini humans live in the flesh!
i love headcanons where adrian is a biologist/zoologist/other brand of life science cus you just know they want to Study the aliens so badly. unfortunately nobody has clued the Eridians in about the concept of human sexes yet....
rocky meanwhile is totaaalllly Not Jealous
bons comic pages about this for shits and giggles
rocky later confronts grace to find out what he said to make his mate so depressed
Thinking about Rocky’s and eridians echolocation and how maybe grace could show his class things like orcas and beluga whales by playing their klikking noises if it worked similarly and the eridians would get a really good image from the sound just like for example orcas can practicly see a 3D scan of something from the waves if sound bouncing off the surfaces
