Hey! This may or may not end up being a tickle blog. I don't know if I'm going to write stories, reblog them, or anything but if anyone wants to talk about stuff with me I'm happy to reply! :D
(Sorry if this post is kinda weird, I'm new to this, not Tumblr but having a blog for this stuff and all)
NSFW, terfs, racists, queerphobes, misogynists, proshippers, and other basic dni stuff please do not interact with this blog, thank you.
Fandom I'm interested in:
Dsmp (not drmtm or wlbr)
Qsmp
Hermitcraft
Genloss
Just ranboo and mcyt in general
The owl house
Amphibia
Origins smp
Fnaf
The Amazing Digital Circus
ENA
Haunted hotel
Wild kratts
Octonauts
Youtubers/Youtuber egos (mainly mark, Jack, and matpat. Little bit a nate but I don't watch him much)
Unus Annus
Iron lung
Project Hail Mary
I think that's about it for now but I'm trying to get into other stuff :D
Please tell me if there's anything else I should add please, I've never done this before so sorry if this is formated weird or anything, have a good day!! :D
Hey gang, sorry for the oddball post tonight- I’ve had a RRRROOOOUGH couple days, and I ended up writing this kinda shorter, dumb, self indulgent little number, and I figured I’d post it while I finish up with Rock-Sitting, which is the fic that won the poll.
I PROFUSELY APOLOGIZE. I HOPE THIS IS DECENT COMPENSATION IN THE MEANTIME. IM STILL XOOKIN’ YALL TRUSTTTTTTT 

Lee!Grace (PHM) Ler!Simon (Iron Lung)
Grace points out something about Simon that he’d love to hear more of, And Simon points out something about Grace that he’s sick and tired of. An agreement is achieved!
If I were still on Earth when I met Simon, I think it’s safe to say I would have been a little offput, even afraid of him. But being in deep space long enough will show you that you can make a friend out of just about anything.
Cells on a microscope slide, a sentient rock spider with an attitude, blood-soaked, marred and mutated space convicts from alternate universes…
I was proud to say that at this point, there was nothing left to surprise me.
…I thought.
“Ryland.”
“Hm?” I sit up from my slouched position over the lab table, spinning my pen idly like a drumstick.
“Where’d you put the sleeping bags? You said you were gonna put them in the wash, but I didn’t see them by the laundry hatch.”
“Oh, I tossed them in a little while ago… uh-“ I tilt my head. “Say that again?”
“What?”
“What’re you looking for again?”
“The sleeping bags?”
I let out a soft huff, turning to look at Simon. He had annunciated the ‘s’ in ‘sleeping’ with more of a ‘sch’ sound. Did he always have a lisp..? How have I never noticed that?
“Right, Right yeah, uhm..” I think for a moment. I want to make sure it isn’t a fluke, and have him try another ‘s’ word.
“Oh, speaking of laundry, are we out of clean towels? I couldn’t find any earlier.” I lied. There were a whole bunch.
“Yeah, should be. Above the bathroom sink.”
There it was again! Schink” instead of “sink”. I wasn’t imagining!
“Ha!” I cover my mouth. I didn’t mean to let that slip.
“What..?”
“Nothing! Sorry.”
Simon furrowed his brow, staring at me with a look that I’m sure he didn’t mean to be as icy as it was.
“Nothing, I just… noticed you have a little bit of a uhm… a lisp- probably because of the… the teeth. Never noticed before.” My voice gets quieter as my sentence continues.
“So you’re making fun of me.” The lisp was gone that time…
“NO! No, I’m not making fun of you!”
“Then why are you laughing at me?”
“I’m nohohot! I promise I’m noOT-!”
Simon takes a step closer to me, and I move back instinctively, stumbling over my stool and falling the short distance to the ground.
Simon snorts, looming above me. “What’re you scared of me too? You act like I’m gonna kill ya.”
“Don’t joke like that!”
Simon Rolls his eyes, standing still for a moment.
…
“BOO.” He jerks toward me suddenly.
I flinch with a dramatic gasp, groaning once the momentary adrenaline fizzles out.
“Ha! Knew it.”
“Cheap shot.” I mutter, standing up off the floor and planting my butt back into my stool.
“Oh and laughing at my speech impediment is fair game?” Simon folds his arms, tilting his head. The xenonite prosthetic emitting a quiet whir as it moves into position.
“I’m not trying to tease you, I just never noticed it before. It sorta juxtaposes your voice. I-in a good way! I- I mean, it doesn’t make you less cool- and I’m also not saying speech impediments aren’t cool-“
“Alright, alright. Put the shovel down while you can still crawl out of the grave you’re digging.” Simon shakes his head, sitting up on the lab table beside me.
“It’s the teeth, yes. But more importantly the lack of any skin around them. These stupid things let too much air slip by, and it messes up my speech a little bit.” He says with a shrug.
“Huh. I never noticed before.”
“Yeah, I try to control it as best I can. I just have to adjust my tongue and it pretty much fixes it. She sells seashells by the seashore. See?” With just that small adjustment, the relatively minorlisp was gone. Impressive!
“Huh- wow. So you just forget to control it sometimes?”
“Mhm. That’s why I call you Ryland and not Grace. I’d end up calling you “Grasche” one of these days.”
“That’s alright.”
“Mmph.” He shrugs
I frown.
“That seems like a lot of extra effort… why not just-“
“Let it go?”
“Yeah- I mean it’s just us and Rocky. No one’s gonna care.”
“You just laughed at-“
“I SAID I DIDN’T MEAN TO.” I pointed at him sharply. “Just- I dunno, just try going without the self-censoring for a while. Might be nice! Unless it’s more comfortable to keep doing what you’re doing, or easier, of course…” Simon groans, his head lulling to the side.
“You can give an opinionated suggestion without opening up 75 alternative options. Just speak your mind, you don’t have to people-please on a ship with two people and a rock.”
I stare at Simon, face heating up like plasma on a hull. Ouch…
Simon sighs. “That was blunt, sorry.”
“No, no. It’s alright.” I mutter.
“You do it a lot, though.”
“I do?” Simon nods dramatically, dull black hair falling into his face.
“Yes, constantly.”
I hum in reply, dropping us both into silence. Simon sighs, turning to face me on the table.
“…How about this. I’ll promise to drop the lisp avoidance if you promise to speak your mind. To be direct. Deal?”
He extends the xenonite hand towards me. I look down at it for a moment. Man, Rocky did a great job with it.
“Deal.” I accept the handshake. We both sigh heavily, mentally preparing for our own self edits.
*Beep Beep Beep*
Saved by the bell. Well, the… laundry alarm.
“Sleeping bags are done.” Simon lets go of my hand with a smile, not bothering to self-correct the ‘s’ this time. I smile back, nodding.
I turn back to my lab station as he walks off.
-
“Grace!” I perk up, hearing my name clear across the ship. Simon? He used my last name!
“Yeah! Whats up?!” I shout back, still perched over my microscope and notebook.
“I need help!” I stand up, senses on alert.
“Where are you?!”
“Dorm!”
I drop my pen and jog to the Dorm hatch, lifting it, and descending th ladder as fast as I could.
“What?! What’s wrong?!” I swing down from a few rungs up, trotting over to where Simon stood, fussing with his prosthetic.
“The elbow joint is jammed- I can’t get it unstuck. I don’t wanna break it.”
“Okay, okay! Well for one, this thing is made of straight up xenonite, so I don’t think breaking it is a risk. Here, let me see.” I gently take the prosthetic in hand, attempting to extend the arm manually. Stuck.
I hum to myself in thought, rotating the thing in a few directions before spotting the issue. A small gear had shifted slightly out of place, causing the entire elbow joint to freeze up. I grab a spare pen I had balanced behind my ear, using it to coax the metal back into place.
With a satisfying click, we were back in business.
“There! Should be good now.” I nod, stepping back.
“Try moving it around.” I say.
Simon flexes and extends the prosthetic, the machine humming as it moved. It seemed to be back in working condition.
I nod in satisfaction. “Try not to lift anything too heavy before Rocky can make some edits on the mechanics. We don’t want you getting jammed up any worse than this.”
“I didn’t even lift anything heavy- just that stupid stack of sleeping bags from the dryer.” He said with a frustrated huff.
I smiled, (a little wider and goofier than I world have liked) hearing the shameless,mild slurring of his s’s. There was something about it that really made me giddy.
“What’re you smiling about?”
“Nothing!” I shrugged directing my eyes anywhere else.
“Now hold on- You promised you’d speak your mind, didn’t you? What’re you smiling about?” He asked again, taking a step towards me. Why is he so intimidating today?! Good lord!
“I-I’m just happy to see you’re letting your wall down! That’s all!” I babble nervously.
“You look to the side when you lie, you know that?”
“I’m being serious! And you’re backing me into an oof- corner, here-” My back hits the wall.
“Why’re you smiling?” At this point he had to just be messing with me.
“Y’know, I can hear you just as clear from two paces back, actually.” I mutter.
“Your ears can turn red too? Jesus. Glad I’m not as scared of blood like I used to be.”
“Hey!” I bark out.
“Tell me why you keep smiling and I’ll move back.”
“Ugh, FINE! I find your lisp incredibly endearing, and it makes me happy to know that you’re comfortable enough to let it slide around me now!” I blurt out.
“Soooo close.” Simon purrs, shaking his head. He’s so close to me now I can make out every scar, blemish, and freckle on his face.
“Come ooonn, man! What more do you need for me to say! I’m speaking my mIIIHIHIND!! N-NOOONONONO-!”
“Yeah, you are, but you’re wrapping it up in about 800 unnecessary words. Just get to the point.”Simon drones, both his hands, real and robotic, grabbing my ribs, squeezing and vibrating into the bone. My knees give out under me, and I slide to the floor. Simon follows me down, my arms gripping his desperately on my descent.
“A-AHAHAHA-! THERE WERE NO. TERMS AND CONDIHIHITIONS TO THIS AGREEMENT-! O-OW-!” I thrash under his grip, only catching a glimpse of him rolling his eyes before my own squeeze closed.
“Yeah, but I’m not avoiding the words I know im gonna mess up. I’m just talking like a normal person, and letting it happen.” He says, Voice eben and calm.
“You, however-“ Simon delivers a sharp pinch to the back of my shoulder blade, making me gasp. “Seem to have quite the habit of wrapping your statements in flowery, unnecessary words.”
“AH-! AH-! OKAHAHAY OKAY, IM SORRY!” I plead, kicking my legs uselessly like an upside-down bug.
“If you’re sorry, then tell me why, everytime I do the exact thing you asked me to do, you smile and giggle about it like a child. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were poking fun.” His voice is level and smooth.
“I DID AHAHALREADY- AHAHAHAA!!”
…I can assure you, the sound that came out of my mouth just then was manly, masculine, and honestly, probably sunshine in the baritone range. ..
“Jesus, Grace you’re gonna blow my eardrums out, stop screaming-“ Simon hissed, wincing as I… screamed…
In my defense, he somehow got a hand behind my neck, pinching the Splenius Capitus muscle.
Yes of course I know what it’s called.
All my life I’d been a denier of being ticklish, despite how easily provable it was, but my neck had always been one of the places I couldn’t poker-face my way through. Even my students knew about it.
It only took one time, when a student tried to get my attention at my desk by tapping me on the neck, and you would have thought I had gotten tazed. I couldn’t stand it. Can’t stand it.
“SIMON-! SIMON NO NO NONO PLEHEHEASE. IM SEHEHERIOUS! I- I CAHAHAN’T” I plead, wheezing and heaving, body rigid as a board.
“Wow- alright, tell me why you keep smiling at me and I’ll let go.”
I grit my teeth, squeezing my eyes shut.
“3…”
We’re counting down?!
“Y-YOHOHOU’RE COUNTING DOWN?!”
“2…”
“WAIT WAHAHAIT IKAY!”
“1…”
“I THINK THE LISP IS CUTE! OKAY?! I- I THINK IT MAKES YOU SOUND INTERESTING, AND I WISH YOU’D LET IT OUT FROM THE START. NOW GET OHOHOFFA ME!”
Simon releases the back of my neck, and my whole body falls limp against the wall, my chest rising and falling, greedily wasting the ship’s oxygen.
“There’s no way that was worth screaming bloody murder about.”
“Oh says you! You and your stupid gills!” I bark back. Simon smiles.
“There you go, speaking your mind! That’s what I’m talking about!” He snickers.
“Shut up.” I sit up, leaning my head back.
“Sp what’s that about my lisp?”
“I’m not… saying it agai- DO NOT come near me.” I bark out, curling in on myself, and lifting a leg towards him, threatening a kick as Simon acts like he’s making a move to lunge at me again.
“Relax, relax, I’m done.” Simon stands up slowly, pausing for a moment, and looking back down at me, his expression a bit more serious.
“Was that too much for you? You’re alright?”
I nod weakly. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine, you’re fine.” I sputter out.
Simon smiles again, fondly this time.
“Did’ya have fun?”
My glasses fogged up from the sweat on my face, and boy did I hope that obscured the bright red that crawled over my cheeks and nose…
I nod.
Simon tilts his head.
“What?!”
“I kinda wanted you to say it.”
I sigh, swallowing whatever iota of pride I have left.
I felt like writing something with a lil kick to it today, gang. Been inching closer and closer to angst day by day LMAO. THE PEOPLE WANTED MORE BLOODYMARY. COME GET Y’ALL DINNER.
-
Switch!Grace Switch!Simon
-
Grace finds Simon staring out at the stars, and finds himself not only explaining the marvels of our universe to him, and learning a bit about Simon’s home universe as well. When the conversation takes a bleak turn, a mutual cheer-up naturally follows.
-
“Ah! There you are. Good morning!” I call down the long, wide central hallway of the ship, raising a mug up towards my newest shipmate in greeting.
He… doesn’t acknowledge me. I frown, but I don’t take it personally. It’s the first time either of us had been around another human being in quite some time. We’re both bound to forget some basic courtesy once in a while.
“You’re up pretty early- did you sleep okay?” I come to a stop right beside Simon’s seated firm. His legs were bent into his chest, and his head rested against the curved wall of the observation window, staring out at the stars.
Was he… sleeping? Or just staring. I couldn’t really see his face from where I stood.
“Mornin” came a deep, rumbling voice. Spooks me every time. But, that proves he’s awake.
“Made you some coffee.” I said, extending a mug his way. When he didn’t turn to take it, I gently set it on the floor beside him, and backed away, taking a seat on the other side of the observation window, our bodies facing each other, both of us looking out the window.
A long, comfortable silence falls between us.
“Can I ask you a stupid question?”
“There’s no such thing as a stupid question.” I reassure, sitting up, and giving Simon my full attention.
“What’s that? Out there? That bright streak of light?” Simon asks quietly. I look out at the watercolor stain of gas and stars that painted its way across our field of vision.
“Oh, that there? That’s the Milky Way.” I say. “Well, one arm of it. The Orion Spur.”
“The Milky Way…”
“Right, yeah, our galaxy.” I say with a patient smile.
Simon stares at me like I’ve just suddenly started speaking French.
“The uh… the spinning, superstructures that-“ I sigh. I’ve lost him.
“One second.” I set down my coffee mug, stand up, and jog off to the lab to retrieve a whiteboard and a marker.
I didn’t know much about Simon at this stage of the game, but one thing I did know, was that he was not from our universe. I’m still trying to wrap my mind and my math around how he managed to jump from his universe to ours- especially with no subatomic consequences…
Maybe where he’s from, basic astronomy is lost on him.
“Ok, scoot.” I plop down right beside Simon, probably a little too close, but whatever. He slides over to give me some more room.
I bite the top of my Expo marker, pulling it off, and letting it drop.
“So-“ I begin crudely drawing an image of a galaxy on the whiteboard. “This here, is a galaxy. They are supermassive, gravitationally influenced structures that are made up of gasses, stars, planetary systems, and debris- all rotating around a central point.” I tap the center, oblong shape with my marker. “In the middle of every galaxy is what’s called a. Lack hole. These ones in particular are immense, but we can talk about those later.”
I look over at Simon to make sure I’m not losing him.
To my surprise, he was entranced, leaning over my shoulder with intense curiosity.
“There’s a few different types of galaxies out there- elliptical, spiral, peculiar-“
“Which one is the Milku Way?”
“Ha! Good question! We live in what’s called a ‘barred spiral galaxy’. That just means that the central bulge has a longer, more elliptical shape, as opposed to a more compact circular shape.”
“Huh…” Simon nods slowly.
I erase the image with my sleeve, and replace it with a sketch of the Milky Way. Something I was well accustomed to drawing for my class.
“So this here is the galaxy were in. The Milky Way. See how I made the center longer? Kinda looks more like a bar, right?” Simon nods.
I draw a large dot on one of the small arms of the galaxy. “That’s us! That’s where we live.”
“Kinda far from the center-“
“That’s a good thing. You really don’t wanna be too close to a black hole. Gravity gets stronger, time gets funky-“
Simon looks a little lost.
“Let’s shelf that for later. Here, look.” I point to another arm of the galaxy, one not too far from my “you are here” dot.
“That is what you’re seeing outside.” I say with a confident nod, handing the white board to Simon.
He takes it, looking for a long while at myrathee crude drawing, then back outside.
“How big is the Galaxy- if that’s all we can see?”
“Rough estimations put it at about a hundred thousand light-years in diameter. The actual, D25 isophotal diameter is 26.8 ± 1.1 kiloparsecs, is you wanna get fancy with it.”
“Iso..”
“It’s so not important, sorry. Just sick with the first figure.” I shrug.
“Alright. So… all galaxies are that big?”
“Oh, well there’s a pretty wide range of sizes a galaxy could be, but ours is pretty industry standard, yeah.”
“How many stars are in here?” He points to the Milky Way scribble on the whiteboard.
“A few hundred billion. Most estimations say between one hundred billion and four hundred billion.” I say.
“How do you just know that?”
“Teacher, remember?”
Simon hums in reply.
I stay quiet for a moment, letting Simon digest the information I’ve thrown at him.
“…Please- don’t take this as an insult of character, because I know you’re an intelligent guy- but… did you… have you really never seen galaxies in your home universe?” I ask cautiously. “Jeez that sounded really rude- I- I’m so sorry-“
“It’s alright. I’m not offended.” Simon shakes his head. “And no, I’ve never seen a galaxy. Or a star. Heard of them, but-“
I stare at Simon with clear confusion on my face.
“Did your home planet have like- a super dense atmosphere?”
“Planet?”
“…”
Simon shook his head.
“Space Station.”
“So wait- you lived on… a space station, but never saw a star or a galaxy…”
“That’s right, yeah. There- there are no stars or galaxies. Or planets.”
I stare at him.
“Cosmic void?”
“No. Everything disappeared. Ways way before my time.”
“…”
“Something happened. No one knows what or why, but 300 years ago… everything vanished. No stars. No planets. Nothing.”
Simon looks up at me.
“They called it The Quiet Rapture… My entire universe is empty.”
There isn’t a sentence I could think up to fully encompass the wide range of emotions I felt hearing that. Disbelief was a strong top note, followed my shock, and underlined with pity.
As long as he’s been alive, Simon had never seen a single thing in his night sky.
All the heavenly beauty, tantalizing mystery, impossible objects, unexplainable phenomena - everything that made the universe - my universe - worth pursuing an understanding if… simply didn’t exist for Simon.
I’m quiet a long time, and so is Simon.
“They never bothered teaching us about any of it. Since everything was gone, and there was no sign of it ever returning, there was no point in wasting time on the topic of ‘what once was’.”
“So- wait- back up. If everything vanished, how were there any survivors? How are you… possible, I guess?”
“Well, the only survivors were those that were already up in space stations and spacecrafts outside of planet orbit. I descended from those survivors.”
I hum in reply, looking over at Simon. He was in horrible shape. Better now than when we found him, but still, horrible. No condition a precious, 10th generation post apocalypse human being should be in.
“If you’re a descendant of some of the last humans in existence… what happened to you..? I mean- mutations aside, you were battered to help when we found you.”
Simon sighs, nodding slowly. “I had been convicted of a crime. As my punishment I was sent on what was essentially a suicide mission - sorry, homicide mission. I didn’t fully understand the stakes when I agreed.”
I nod along, feeling a pang in my chest at the idea that we had both been sent into space to die.
“…Im out here for a similar reason.” I say quietly.
“You’re a convict too?”
“N-no, no. I meant the ‘one way trip’ thing.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Yeah, my sun was dying. Dimming because of something humanity couldn’t figure out, and the last ditch effort was to build a ship, send it to the one nearby star that wasn’t dying and figure out how to keep the Earth from falling into an ice age.”
Simon hummed.
“Wow. And… what, only enough fuel for a one way trip?”
“Yeah…”
Silence.
“Well it was very noble of you to volunteer for the mission-“
“I didn’t.” I say, a bit more sharply than I intended. “I- there was an accident with some of the crew, and I… I had to take their place…” I avoided the details, opting just for a brief summary of my final days on earth. “Anyway, your mission- your… sentence?”
“Right, yeah- I still don’t remember everything that happened during my mission, but most all of my injuries are from my unconventional incarceration. He explains.
“Are you… okay-?” What a dumb question, Ryland.
“Well, I’m here now- it’s not rusty, doesn’t smell like iron, it’s bigger than a tin can, the aliens on board are friendly, and I can actually see what the universe is supposed to look like now. I would say I’m pretty okay.” He smiles at me reassuringly.
“Well, good. I’m glad you’re comfortable on The Hail Mary.”
I take a breath. “I can’t imagine how bleak and terrifying your universe must have felt. A-and your mission? I’m- so sorry.”
“…Are you okay-?” Simon tilts his head, looking over at me.
“What? Me?! Who cares! I’m more worried about you!”
“You’re crying.”
I hurriedly remove my glasses, rub my face with my sleeve.” “Ah-, jeeez, yeah I’m fine. Please, ignore me, I’m a crier.” I chuckle.
I look back up at Simon, who snickers at me.
“You’ve got a little somethin’-“ he points to my face.
“Huh?” I look down at my sleeve… I had wiped my face with the same sleeve I used as a whiteboard eraser.
I feel my face turn red. I must look ridiculous.
“Here- hold still.” Simon leans over, licking his thumb, and reaching over to my face.
“Ew ewewew EW-! Simon, gross-!”
“Oh calm down.” Simon chuckles, rolling his eyes.
I duck back, pushing at Simon’s arm, unable to help laughing at the stupidity of the situation. Especially on the heels of such a heavy conversation.
I think we both needed the levity.
“No-! Get away! You’re gonna annihilate my particles with your alternate-universe antimatter!”
“I thought we were past the whole matter/antimatter hurdle. Don’t be univercist.”
I lose my balance leaning back, and tumble on my back. Simon, without a second arm to brace himself, falls as well, right on top of me.
“Oof-! I’m not univercist, but I AM germaphobic. Get ohohoffa me!” I snap back, pushing uselessly at Simon, who’s begun laughing as well.
“Oh whatever, I was just trying to help. You look like a bandit with that smudge over your eyes.”
I scoff. “Whatever! “ I snap back.
In a last ditch effort to get him off of me, I reach down, and squeeze Simon’s sides a few times.
I forget about the nerve-dense gills that live on the sides of his body, wincing as the sudden contact makes Simon bark in laughter.
“hAHA-! AGH. WHAT THE HELL?!”
“Sorry, sorry! I forgot about the gills!” I raise my hands in surrender.
“Yeah I bet you did.” Simon pushes himself up on one arm - damn - and braces his shoulder against the wall for support.
Without a split second to process, I let out a shriek, body tensing up and Simon’s hand finds itself latched on my side.
“Oh what, you got gills here too?” He smirks down at me, the dark observation deck casting an ominous shadow on his face. Sharp, latticed fangs glowing dimly in the starlight.
“N-no-! I- AAAHAHAHA-!! NONONO WAIT-!” I howl as Simon’s hand balls into a fist, knuckles running up and down my ribs like a washboard.
My god he was aggressive-
“A-AHAHAHAHA-! OW- SIHIHIMON-!”
“Why are you screaming?” His voice dropped low, resembling something like the growl of a lion. My ears began to heat up, and I thrashed my head from side to side in attempt to shake it off.
“PLEHEHEASE- a-AHAHA- I CAN’T!”
“I’m just trying to prove to you that we’re not gonna annihilate if my atoms interact with yours. You’re a man of science. You should be all over this.” He teases, moving his hand to claw at my stomach, just as ruthlessly as he had been with my ribs.
“I- I’M SORRY! I DIDNT MEHEHEAM TO BE UNIVERCIST. I- AHAHA-! I TRUST YOU AND YOIR ATOMS!” I plead
“You’re not putting up much of a fight, Ryland.”
“I DON’T WANT TO THEOHOHOW YOU OFF BALANCE AGAIN!”
“Oh how considerate.” His hand moves down to my hip. I buck violently at the rough squeeze, crashing my back down into the metal platform with a rattling crash.
I grimace, letting out a groan. I hit the ground hard.
Simon pulls back, looking down at me with a flash of concern.
“Shit-! Are you okay?!”
I sit up slowly, grumbling like an old man as I do - a hand on my low back.
“Yeah yeah, I’m alright.” I nod. “Good lord- why do you tickle so hard?”
“It was not that bad, you’re just a baby.”
“I’m pretty sure you’ve bruised my entire left side.”
Simon snorts. “I can’t take you seriously with that ink still on your face.”
I scowl at him.
“Hey look, a shooting star.” I point out the window behind Simon. He takes the bait, turning to the window.
I take the chance to lunge at him, knocking him over, effectively switching out positions from before.
“Ha! Shooting Stars are space rocks burning up in an atmosphere! They wouldn’t even exist out here!” I smile proudly down at Simon, straddling him by the hips.
“My God you are SUCH a nerd.” Simon drones.
“Correct!” I grab at Simon’s sides again, this time avoiding his gills for the time being.
He barely reacts outside of a startled flinch.
“What?!”
I try again. He smiles at me. I squeeze a little harder. Nothing. I poke at his stomach. A snort, but nothing else.
“Are you seriously only ticklish on your gills? How’s that fair?!”
He chuckles. “I’m just better at keeping my cool than you.” He shrugs.
“I don’t like your attitude.”
“Sorry to hear that, Raccoon Grace.”
“Alright-“
I slide my hands up just under his armpits, and slowly rake my fingers back down his ribs, feeling the edge of each of his gills as I passed them.
Simon gasps, letting out a deep laugh that rumbled up from his chest, Immedietly thrashing and twisting under me.
“Wow, yeah- really keeping your cool.” I chuckle, struggling to keep myself upright.
“SHUHUHUT UHUHUP-! ITS A CHEHEHEAP SHOT-!”
“How is it cheap?!”
“YOU WERE THE- HAHA-! YOU WERE THE ONE THAT YOLD MEHEHE THAT GILLS HAVE A BUNCH OF FUHUHUCKIN’ NERVES-!”
I move one hand up to the smaller gills on the side of Simon’s neck, scritching gently.
“Oh was that me? Hm- yeah sounds like a science teacher thing to point out.” I shrug. “And so what?! That doesn’t make it a cheap shot. It’s a smart one.” I ramble on.
“AH- AHAHAHAHA-!! GODDAMNIT-!”
“Hm, maybe the neck was a cheap shot though.” I mutter. “Not as cheap as this though.” I push Simon’s face to the side, lowering myself down, and blow an obnoxious raspberry on the side of his neck, right over the vents of his gills
“AHAHAHAAA-!! RYHYHYLAND-! GET OHOHOFFA ME-!” Simon shouted through his laughter as I blew one more raspberry.
In what seemed like a sudden surge of strength, Simon grabbed me by the shoulder, hooked one leg around one of my own, and rolled us both over with impressive force, sending me tumbling across the floor.
Simon sits up, huffing and puffing, and I remain where I land, lying on my back, giggling like an idiot on the starlit deck.
“Good toss!” I say, slowly pushing myself up, and scooting back over to sit against the wall next to Simon once again.
We both take a moment to catch our breath, the silence of the ship scored by our heavy breathing.
I pick up my long forgotten mug, taking a sip of the tepid coffee, looking past Simon, out to the stars.
“Y’know, if you like looking at the stars, we can move your bed to the observation window.” I say, breaking the silence.
Simon looks over at me. “Wouldn’t that be a little cumbersome? Lifting the mattress out of the dorm?”
“Not if we disengage the gravity.”
“Hm- I didn’t think of that.”
I smile, tapping my temple a couple times as if to say “But I did!”
Simon shakes his head, chuckling.
“You sure that wouldn’t be too much trouble?”
“Not at all! We’ve got a long trip to Erid. May as well make sure everyone’s comfortable.” I say, lifting the hem of my shirt up to finally wipe the ink from my face.
“Good?”
“Mhm, good.” Simon nods, picking up my glasses from the floor. He leans in, gently replacing them on my face, pushing th upy nose.
I regain my clear vision, eyes focusing like the lens of a camera. Simon was inches from my face, one tired brown eye, and one slightly drooped crimson eye looked into into my blue ones. His hair falling in unkempt waves over his half scarred face.
I don’t say anything. I think I have a relatively neutral expression, but I’m sickly told otherwise.
“Are you overheating or something?”
“What?!”
“Your face is burning red-“
I quickly stand up, turning towards the hallway, and starting for the dorms.
“I’m fine! Let’s see about moving your stuff upstairs.”
AND WHO’S HUNGRIER FOR CRITTER WRITING LER!RYLAND GRACE FOR ONCE HUH??? Let’s get after it gang.
Tumblr erased some of my editing while I was proofreading, and I’m so not interested in redoing allat. So if there’s a billion errors, just remember that I’m just a little guy. Thank you.
-
Lee!Simon (Iron Lung) Lee!Grace (PHM)
It’s been about a week now since Simon found himself aboard The Hail Mary in quite possibly the worst and weirdest Ryland had ever seen a human in. Now that he’s settled, it’s time for a checkup!
——
Rocky and I agreed to sleep by the window in order to give our new passenger the space he needed to adjust to the Hail Mary down in the dormitory.
I let him use my bed for the time being… I can only imagine how much blood he’s gotten on the sheets… it’s alright. As long as he’s safe and stable.
He seems friendly enough… a bit skittish and guarded, but that’s to be expected, I suppose. I hope he’s not afraid of us.
Whatever happened to him on that ghastly red moon traumatized him. It’s gonna take a long work for him to trust us.
We have time, and I’m willing to wait.
-
We managed to get a name out of him. His name is Simon.
Not sure why I was expecting some sort of alien-esque name… he is human. Right..? He was at one point.
Hes missing an arm, and refuses to show the left side of his face, covering it with hair, so maybe there’s more to him tjan expected… that’s fine. He’s given us no reason to be afraid of him.
“New human okay, question? Hasn’t come out of bedroom in long long time.” Rocky rolled in his ball over to my side, tilting his carapace up.
“I dunno- I haven’t really checked in on him much. I don’t wanna scare him. Also just call him ‘Simon’, bud. If we wanna make friends with him we have to be polite.”
Rocky nods, sitting down beside me on the floor. I stare out the window at the slowly shrinking star system. The same one where we happened upon Simon’s distress signal just over a week ago.
“Should I go check on him?”
“Why, question?”
“I mean- I feel bad leaving him all alone down there. I know he probably wants space, but he needs human connection too, right?”
Rocky trills in thought.
“Also, I need to give him a checkup. I know Armando’s handling his vitals and nutrition, but he needs an actual assessment. Who knows what condition he’s in! Armando might not be equipped for whatever he has going on!”
I say, turning back to Rocky.
“Grace not body doctor.”
“Yeah well Grace is as close to a body doctor as we’re gonna get out here. And I know my way around an anatomy and physiology book. I can handle it.”
Rocky warbles in reply. He doesn’t sound faithful in me.
“Last time I checked, you don’t have a doctorate in anything. So I don’t wanna hear it.” I stand from the ground, stretching my back, and starting for the dorm.
“Where Grace going, question?”
“To re-make first contact.” I call back.
-
I spent an embarrassingly long time standing over the hatch to the dormitory, debating whether or not to open it.
So I knock instead.
I kneel down to the floor, and knock gently on the hatch.
…No reply.
“…Hey, Simon? Y’alright down there, bud?”
I try to keep my voice as light an friendly as possible.
There’s a long silence, before finally, I hear a reply.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
Okay, a little curt, but I can work with that.
“Um… d-do you mind if I come down?”
“…It’s your ship.” I sigh. He’s not wrong, but still I want to give him the option.
“Well yeah, but-“ I pause. “I- I just thought I’d ask first.”
Another long silence.
“Sure.”
Yes! Okay! Now we’re cookin’ with fire!
“O-okay!” I slowly release the hatch, and peer down into the dorm. Simon sits on the edge of the bed, folding something messily, and handing it to Armando. Oh, it’s the bedsheet. I notice now that the mattress is bare.
I descend the ladder slowly, jumping down from the second to last rung with a thump that grabs Simon’s attention.
He looks at me, studying me.
I smile, waving at him and straightening my glasses. “Hi!” I say, a bit awkwardly
He nods, going back to whatever he was doing.
“…you didn’t have to wash the sheets- I could have taken care of it. I appreciate it, but I’d rather you just rest up.” I say, taking a few steps toward him. I notice an immediate tension in Simon’s shoulders, and I freeze in place, frowning.
“Sorry.” He mutters.
“I’m not here to hurt you, Simon. I promise. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” My voice is quiet and calm.
“I mean heck, I’m a middle school science teacher! How scary can I be?” I chuckle at my own joke, and Simon remains still.
My shoulders fall. I decide on a different topic.
“Looks good on you. The uh- the t-shirt. I guess we wear the same size, which is handy.” I gesture to the shirt I had lent him. A stupid science pun shirt with the periodic table plastered across the chest.
Simon looks down at himself, nodding. “Yes, thank you.”
“Hey no problem!” I smile wide.
The silence down here is thick and heavy. I decide that’s plenty of socialization for him today, and start back for the ladder with an awkward nod.
“Ryland?” I nearly jump out of my skin, whirling around again.
“Yes?”
“Where are we going…”
Right- I hadn’t gotten a chance to explain any part of why I’m in space, where we’re headed, why I have an alien on board - anything…
“Oh! Right- we uh- were headed for Erid. Rocky’s home planet.”
Simon tilts his head.
“Rocky is the uh… rock… fella upstairs. I dunno if you’ve formally met him yet, but you’ve definitely heard him clunking around in his hamster ball. It’s actually made of xenonite, which is a metal made from a gas that apparently is super abundant on Rocky’s planet- I mean he made a whole ship out of the stuff and-“
Simon nods along, looking a little bit lost. I take a breath.
“We’re going to Erid. My ship ran out the fuel needed to fly back home, so Rocky offered to host me - now us - on his planet.”
Simon hums in reply.
“There’s nothing to worry about. Eridians are a very docile bunch. We’ll be safe.”
“As long as it’s away from AT-5.”
I sigh. “You’re never gonna have to be on that moon again. I promise you.” I’ve slowly made it close enough to sit beside Simon on the bed. At a distance, but progress is progress.
“Please feel free to shut me down if not, but… do you wanna… maybe talk about your time on the moon..?”
Simon shakes his head slowly. “No… not yet…”
Yet! I got a yet! We can revisit this in the future, that’s a win.
“No problem. In your own time. Or never at all. Either is fine.” I say with a thumbs up.
The action catches Simon’s attention, and he turns to look at my hand. Oops- to quick of a moment. Wait-
When he turns his head, his hair shifts back for just a moment. Did I just see… teeth..? On the side of his face..?
I stare for a moment, unaware of the fact I’m doing it. Simon clearly notices, unsure of what to do himself.
I force the shock on my face to morph into curiosity, and slowly reach a hand towards Simon.
“…You mind if I…”
Simon says nothing, leaning slightly towards me in quiet permission.
Wow, I did not expect this much development today.
Gingerly, I push the hair back, holding it away from his face, as I take in the image before me.
On the left side of his mouth, just past the Cupid’s bow, Simon’s mouth… splits. Half a dozen, sharp, long teeth lattice together like a shark’s… no, maybe an angler fish? Not quite.
I wouldn’t say it’s necessarily scary, but definitely not… natural.
In addition, the skin of his face above and below the mouth brandish curving, snake-track scarring, swirling like paintbrush strokes around a reddened eye.
Not red in the typical “pink eye” sense. Simon’s sclera, iris, and pupil were all varying shades of deep red.
“Cool…” I mutter in awe.
“Hm?” Simon furrowed his brows.
“S-sorry! Sorry… I didn’t mean- I’m not trying to be rude, I’m sure that- whatever happened must have hurt, but-“ I cut myself off, feeling hear spreading from my face, down my neck.
“Cool wouldn’t be the first word I’d use to describe it.”
“Oh?”
“Grotesque, maybe.”
“What?! No! I don’t think so- you look like a… like a sci-fi character! Like a comic book guy, or something!” I reassure awkwardly.
Simon smiles softly, shaking his head. I got a smile!
“Does it- hurt? Or make eating hard? Oh shoot, does it make talking difficult?”
“Uhm, no. Not really. Looks worse than it is.”
I nod in fascination, my gaze drifting down to his left shoulder, and the lack of an arm attached to it.
He follows my gaze. “That does still ache quite a bit.”
“I’m sorry. Are the painkillers helping?”
“Haven’t taken many of them.”
“What?! Why?”
“I don’t want to waste them. In case you need them too at some point.”
“Don’t worry about that- I’m not missing an arm!”
“Looks like you got pretty close.” He points to my scarred arm.
“That doesn’t count. That’s healed.” I retort. Simon shrugs in reply.
“How’d that happen, anyway?”
I look down at my arm, running a hand over my scar. “…Why don’t we save the gruesome space trauma for another day, hm?”
“Alright. Sorry…”
“No need to apologize.”
Silence…
“Did you… need something? When you came down, I mean.” Simon turns towards me.
I wince. Oh right…
“Ah, no, nothing.”
Simon raises a brow.
“…I wanted to give you a checkup. To make sure you were alright? I know Armando has been taking pretty good care of you, but I was thinking more for- research… purposes… not that you’re a lab rat! I just…” I take a breath. “I wanna know what I’m working with in case there’s something I could do to support your… special circumstances… more efficiently than a medbot. That’s all.”
I shrug, carding a hand through my hair.
“Ok.”
“…okay-?”
“You can do that. I don’t mind. It’d be good for me to know as well.”
“You don’t…”
“Remember what happened to make me like this? No, not clearly.”
I nod slowly. When the day comes for us to exchange our stories, it’s gonna be a tough ride…
“What do you need me to do?”
“Oh! Uhm-“ I stand up off the bed..”I guess you can just lie down here. This is as good a place as any-“
I say, looking around for my safety gear. It’s in the lab… of course it’s in the lab…
“Uh- just get comfortable, I’m gonna go get some gloves and stuff from the lab.”
Simon nods as I jog over to the ladder, ascending it quickly.
-
“Grace in dorm long time! What happen, question?”
I pivot around Rocky’s ball, grabbing various items from the lab, hastily tossing them in a box that sat nearby on the table.
“Making Progress, Rock. He’s letting me give him a check up.”
“Good good! Very good sign!”
“I know! I’ll update you later on EVERYTHING, later. I gotta go.” I say, practically prancing back to the dorm hatch.
-
“Okay! Im back. I got a couple things to help me with my examination. Nothing pokey, atabby, or intrusive tho- woah-“ I pause at the bottom of the ladder.
Simon looks over at me, still seated on the bed.
He’s taken off his- well, my shirt, and tied his hair back with the off-white headband he had been wearing before.
He. Was. Ripped. More than I was when I woke up from my coma- I mean dedicated effort ripped. I feel my arms tighten to my sides, gripping my box tightly with a surge of self consciousness.
“What..?” He asked.
“Nothing, nothing, sorry. Ignore me.” I shake my head, walking the box over to the metal nightstand, and setting it down. “Please, have a- seat- sorry, I mean- have a lie… l-lie down?”
Brutal.
Simon nods, swinging his legs onto the bed and attempting to lower himself down with his single arm, groaning a bit in discomfort.
“Oh-! Careful, careful- here-“ I shuffle over, placing a hand behind his left shoulder, guiding him down to the bed.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Comfortable?” I ask. He nods.
I grab a pair of blue gloves from my box, as well as a paper mask, which I loop over my ears and push over my nose and mouth.
“A bit excessive- you don’t really need all that.”
“Maybe- I just thought it’d feel more professional.” I shrug.
I take out my spectrometer, turning the device on with a few quiet clicks. Simon looks a bit unsure about the… rather gun-like tool.
“It’s a spectrometer. It tells me the molecular makeup of whatever it’s pointing at. Doesn’t hurt. Promise.” He seems content with my explanation. I point the device at some particularly… unnaturally colored areas on Simon’s torso, all results coming back with staggering amounts of iron throughout his body.
“Wow. A lot of iron. I guess that explains the discoloration. Any joint pain or fatigue?”
“I mean yeah, but I couldn’t differentiate it from soreness from physical trauma.”
“Hmm, fair enough. Well, we’ll keep an eye on it. Looks like heavy hemochromatosis.” I mutter, setting the spectrometer down. I pick up a flashlight, turning it on, and directing a beam of light over Simon’s body. He was covered in bronzy-reddish splotches , jagged scars, and puncture wounds that spanned nearly 70% of the surface of his skin.
I gently rest a hand on the center of Simon’s torso, gently probing an area I couldn’t quite deduce to be a bruise or discoloration.
“Any pain?”
“No.”
I nod, abandoning the spot, and focusing instead on three particularly striking scars that ran parallel to his ribs in stretched, upside down arcs. I furrowed my brows. Claw marks, maybe? Had he gotten in a fight with a wild animal? If so, it had to have been a pretty big one to leave scars like that-
I lean down, pointing my light directly at them.
They were not scars.
The arcs were separated from the skin, raised only about a centimeter, and the closer I got, the more detectable a weak, warm draft. Gills?!
“What the…”
“What?”
“Are these gills? You breathe water?!”
“Oh… that must be how I survived in the blood ocean.”
“Wait- you breathe blood..? Through gills?! Wh- how did you evolve gills in such a remarkably short time?! I-in one lifetime! That makes no sene!”
“Same way I evolved half a monster’s mouth, I guess.”
“You’re not a monster, quit that.” I say, tilting my head to get a better look, reaching a hand out to gently palpate the top of the lamelae, earning a startled shudder from Simon. With the contraction of his muscles, the gills momentarily collapsed.
“Awesome…” I beam, unable to take my eyes off of the impossibility in front of me.
I reach out again, gently running a gloved finger along the split of the middle vent, and again, it closed.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, you don’t have to brace for impact.” I chuckle.
“Mmhm” Simon chokes out a strained acknowledgment.
“Wait- this doesn’t hurt, does it?” I look over to him.
“No.”
I nod, continuing my investigation. And everytime I touch his gills, Simon flinches. Is he scared? He shouldn’t be, I told him I’m not gonna hurt him- ohhhh, I see.
I smile fondly, sitting up. “Ah? Okay I see. Sorry, I don’t mean to tickle you, Simon. I’m just trying to get all the data I can.” I say gently, hoping to calm him a little.
“It- doesn’t-“ he coughs out.
“Right. Alright, just sayin’” I shrug, moving my hand to locate the arched bone structures that should be somewhere nearby, under the vents, finding them easily. “Ah! Here we go- woah!”
Simon jerks away with a strangled sound, almost like a laugh.
“Okay, okay! Hey, take a breath.”
I say softly, wanting to remain as disarming as I could. “Y’alright? Was that pain or laughter? I couldn’t really tell. You gotta let me k ow what you’re feeling when you’re feeling it, or else I’ll end up accidentally hurting you.” I say.
“It doesn’t hurt. I’d tell you if it hurt. It just feels bizarre.”
“Yeah, looks like you’re just a little ticklish. Typically fish gills have a ton of nerve endings. For respiration, filtration- the works.” I explain, proving my point with a gentle poke to the top of the middle plate, earning me a snort from Simon.
I chuckle, almost feeling bad for the guy. He didn’t ask to spontaneously grow gills- this probably sucked for him- but science calls…
“Just try and hold still for me, alright? I promise I’m not trying to torture you.” I stand up, positioning myself beside Simon, and peering over to his right side, where a matching set of gills carved their parabolic paths into Simon’s ribs.
I position the fingers on both my hands like you would if you were taking pulse, two fingers extended, with the others folded down, and gently pressed them against the top plates of gills on either side of Simon’s body. He jerked, letting out a sharp gasp
“Sihimon! Is it seriously that bad?!” I ask, smiling under my mask. “Now, do you notice any difficulty breathing?”
“Noho.”
“Okay.” I nod, noting that down in my mind. I flatten my hands, covering the first and second plates of Simon’s gills, effectively squeezing his ribs between my hands.
He jolts, one of his legs kicking out as a huffed laugh tumbles from his mouth. My arms go a bit slack, and my head drops. I laugh quietly. It doesn’t take much to make either of us laugh, apparently.
“My goodness- I don’t think I’ve met anyone this ticklish in my life- this is crazy! I’m genuinely, barely doing anything.” I shake my head fühl fondly. “Ok. Any difference with the breathing?” I ask, loosing professionalism by the second. Simon shakes his head feverishly, eyes squeezed shut.
“Okahay. Now brace. I’m goin’ for the last two.” I say as I slide my hands down to cover all six of Simon’s gills. The motion combined with the pressure makes him buck his hips with a sharp bark of laughter.
“AhAHA- RYLAND.”
I collapse down onto Simon, laughing into the crook of my elbow. I can feel the rapid rise and fall of Simon’s chest. He’s laughing too.
“Whahat?!” I sit up, looking at him.
“I still have lungs- ahahand a working nose-! H-human respiration-!”
Silence falls for a moment, and I stare at him through my crooked glasses.
“And you didn’t think to tell me that the moment I found your gills?!” I throw my arms up.
“You said you wanted a thorough investigation!”
“Oh bullcrap! You wanted to make me look silly, and it backfired!” I scoff, reaching down without a second thought, skittering my fingers over the gills on his left side.
Was it cruel to tickle the gills on the side without an arm to guard them? Maybe. I don’t care.
“AhAHA-!” Simon shrieks, shaking his head back and forth against the pillow.
As his head turns, the light from my discarded flashlight catches the side of his neck. Oh… my gosh.
“You have gills on your neck too..?” I stare down at the smaller set of vents.
Simon freezes, looking me in the eye.
“No no- Ryland-“
“Noooo no no, We said thorough investigation. You agreed to this.” I pointed accusingly at him, the other hand on my hip.
Simon gritted his teeth, tense and braced like I had a bow drawn to his throat.
“Fine! Just- get it over with- I hate my neck being touched- hurry up-“
I lift my hands in a pose of surrender, expression becoming sincere.
“Woah, woah- I won’t- I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. You can tell me to back off.” I say, a stern seriousness in my tone.
“No, it’s alright I deserve it.”
“What-?”
“I tried to pull a fast one on you.”
I raise a brow at him.
“I uh… I was gonna pretend you were suffocating me when you converted my gills…” he admits
I gasp. “Oh you little monster!” I laugh incredulously, reaching my hands out, and running the backs of my fingers along the gills on Simon’s neck, like a caress.
Even though in was given permission, I still didn’t want to overdo it.
Simon gasped deeply, letting out a shrill laugh, rather uncharacteristic for the person it emerged from. He kicked his legs, thrashed his head around, but at no point did he pull away or fight me.
“Wow, takin’ it like a champ, huh?” I grin, switching to skittering my nails over the plates, applying only a little bit more pressure. Every so often, I’d raise my hand up to scratch under his chin or along his jaw.
“AH-! AH-! F-FUHUHUCK-!”
“Hey! Language!” I scold, more out of habit than any real annoyance.
I take a gamble, leaning down and blowing gently against the side of Simon’s neck. I feel my stubble scrape against the area as Simon wriggles around under me.
“Ha! Wow that worked better than I expected! L” I mutter mostly to myself, but that close to his ear, I’m sure Simon heard it too.
I stand back up, continuing to skitter my fingers over his gills, smiling like a fool while I watched him laugh.
Before long, Simon had reached his limit.
“AhAhAHA- OKAY OKAY! ENOUGH.” His hand grabbed me by the wrist with immense strength, making me wince. I let go Immedietly at his signal, and held my own waist.
“Ow-! Jeez you’re strong.” I mutter, backing off and standing up again.
Simon rolls onto his side, sitting up on the edge of the bed.
“You okay?”
“Yehes, I’m fine.”
I nod with a smile. I slide my gloves off, and snap the paper mask off my face. “Thanks for humoring me with the examination- got some good data to jot down.”
“What, are you making a textbook about me?”
“What if I was?” We both chuckle at that.
I drop the gloves and mask into my box, along with my spectrometer.
“Uhm- thank you… as well.”
I turn to Simon. “For what-?”
“Scooping me out of space, letting me stay on your ship, saving my life. Lending me your clothes. I never formally thanked you.”
I feel my face heat up a little. “Oh it’s nothing. I wasn’t just gonna hear a distress signal and let you die out there.” I shrug. “And for the record, you’re allowed to roam the rest of the ship. You’re not a prisoner here. I want you to feel like you have a home here. It’s your ship now too. Plus, I’m sure Rocky has about a hundred thousand questions for you.”
I turn around, facing the ladder”And maybe I’d enjoy your company upstairs too- I dunno.” I mutter.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing, nothing.” I wave a hand, starting up the ladder. “I uh- I’ll be upstairs picking at some work in the lab if you need me.”
Simon doesn’t reply for a moment, until…
“Anything I can help with..?”
I can’t help the smile on my face. “Y-yea! Sure! How much you know about molecular biology?”
“Uh…”
“Ah don’t worry about it. You’ll pick it up. I can show you the amoebas we’ve been raising- C’mon!” I nod up to the hatch. And ascending towards it.
I hear the disorganized climbing of a one-armed man below me, and I smile.
I should have Rocky fashion him a xenonite prosthetic. May as well make it easier for our new friend to get around.
Recently I had to research funerary practices for a class and in doing so I did a little research on Tibetan sky funerals (not too much though so take what I say with a grain of salt cause I could absolutely have gotten something wrong in this. If you know more feel free to correct me!)
In Tibetan sky funerals, the point is to have vultures eat the body, it's a whole spiritual thing about giving back to the world. To do this, people called rogyapas have to dismember the body, crush the bones, etc. (This is where I may get something wrong, apologies) but I remember it saying that they were associated with uncleanliness and violence due to handling corpses and butchering them, and as such, were ostracized. The article also compared them to butchers which immediately made me think of Simon and being the butcher on Eden. It made me think of him being in charge of butchering bodies for the tree and what if he was considered impure or dirty and had been outcast even in his own community because of it.
Counting down every single day until iron lung drops on youtube. I desperately need to see it again. I've watched it three times, but I NEED to have it on loop
Is this a safe space to say that while I absolutely adore the idea of Simon being ruthless, I feel like he could also go the absolute opposite direction and end up being super gentle because he's scared of hurting the one person who actually cared about him and was kind since his mother died
One of the pains of having a tkl account (even though l've barely ever posted and haven't at all in a good while) is trying to change my art enough to where it's not uncomfortably out of the muscle memory zone of my regular art that I show friends and stuff while also being different enough that that, under the extremely small chance someone I know irl comes across my art that they don't clock me instantly
This is genuinely probably just a me thing, but I had convo over notes with someone from a different class one time a few years back. Like they'd leave notes and then I'd leave one, and a few people got involved, and someone drew something, so I did too and a friend told me later that day they found out it was me because they instantly recognized my art and that has forever made me a little paranoid
One of the pains of having a tkl account (even though l've barely ever posted and haven't at all in a good while) is trying to change my art enough to where it's not uncomfortably out of the muscle memory zone of my regular art that I show friends and stuff while also being different enough that that, under the extremely small chance someone I know irl comes across my art that they don't clock me instantly
Do people realize that Israel is so unrestrained that it’s now launching attacks in Lebanon and Syria as well. Do people realize how little Arab people mean to these genocidal maniacs that they are now killing people in three Arab countries. Can genocide apologists pause their pure hatred for Arabs to at the very least admit this. Or are we going to pretend that Israel has a reason to be intensifying attacks in Damascus right now
Reminder that Palestinians in Gaza are being deliberately starved by Israel. Families in gaza are boiling plant leaves and eating them. They're also eating animals and birds food to stay alive. There are reported cases of kids and infants who died out of hunger and/ or cold. Starving people is part of genocide too. Remember how fast medicine was provided for the Israeli hostages, while Palestinians are starving for food and water and getting operations and amputations performed with no medication or anesthesia whatsoever.
PLEASE PERTICIPATE IN THE BOYCOTT!! Things like this can have a huge impact that can be incredibly helpful for getting a message across if we do it right! Remember, do what you can. You're not a bad person if you aren't able to skip school or work or if you need to buy genuine necessities, but please, buy as little as possible and none at all if you can! And please show what support you can, repost Palestinian content and content that supports them, donate if you can, don't buy things if possible, especially luxuries that aren't food, speak out, don't post things aside from things that support them. Do everything you can to support Palestinians and Gaza. Show them we want a cease fire NOW and that we'll do what we have to to get it. Please help free Gaza and palestine from the river to the sea!
it makes me so happy that they list other things you can feed ducks. my go-to is seed but I might start giving my local friends some of these other things
