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it took me an embarassingly long time to finally sit down and scribble this garbage (/j). Happy Pride Month everyone i hope my contributions only enrich our community
EDIT: yall this is getting outta hand please go like my fanart with more effort instead 😭
[WIP] Some snippets from some things I'm working on lol
I think Bloodymary shouldn't be depicted as "golden retriever and black cat" but "kicked dogs relying on each other". Simon is a sweetheart, he just so happened to go through hell and back and be tortured. He's like a stray dog who had to learn to bite for a chance of survival in a world too cruel for him. Grace is like a kicked dog too, just one who hasn't been abused enough to rely on his teeth and was saved in time. Both still crave love and acceptance, not like addicts craving drugs, but like living beings craving food and water. It's so bad it's become necessity, for both of them.
So of course, when things settle and Simon finally trusts Ryland, they are disgustingly all over each other all the time, hands always on the other or else they'll explode.
Rocky did not sign up for this gay shit, but he's putting up with it because his friend is happy.
Favourite flavour of Bloodymary is when Simon & Grace are going through their "b-but we're both boys 🥺" phase and Rocky is just Their Friend Steve /ref in the background taking notes on human mating behaviour completely oblivious to any and all invasions of privacy he is commiting
click for higher quality <3
these two have literally taken over my brain space and you know what? i’m okay with that.
Nothing to do; Bloody Mary Fanfic part 2/3.
[Part 1 here]
I kinda miss the person I was two months ago. Before Simon woke up from the three-months coma Armando put him in and before he started to speak and trust me enough to tell me about where he came from.
I was impressed that Simon even survived what he went through. Armando’s diagnosis looked like a tesco receipt: Concussion, severed arm, multiple infected wounds, five broken ribs, an insane amount of bruises, multiple twisted joints, radiation poisoning, some kind of food poisoning, there was a hole in his stomach and he required an amount of stitches I would rather forget about. While he slept I ran some tests on his blood and as it turns out, he was human. At some point. His DNA sequence is incomprehensible. Maybe the radiation is to blame, but it seems like whatever made him appear in the middle of my beach interrupted some kind of DNA rewiring. Something was remaking him. The results obtained from the water samples weren’t much more informative. What we found was a – still – growing number of human DNAs blended together in the universe’s most sordid smoothie.
When Simon woke up he immediately panicked and fell off the table. Been there. It took a while to get him to settle down and a while longer to tell him where he was and make him believe me. That’s when he told me that all the stars and planets were gone. That cataclysm, that “Quiet Rapture” had taken everything in the blink of an eye. We quickly figured out he came from the future, but we still have no idea how he got here. The last two months have been… difficult. I never had any human roommates, and although Simon doesn't mind my usual messiness, he has strange habits that are hard to shake off. Every single night for two months, he gets up and walks to the pantry and just… looks inside. Same for the plant lab. He burst into tears the first time he saw it, and I realised he had never seen anything aside from that one tree he mentioned in between sobs. After that discovery, he added the plant lab to his nightly check-ups. When he doesn’t wake up to check the pantry, he has night terrors and I have to wake him up in a state of intense panic, which so far has warranted me one punch I failed to dodge. He is always very apologetic after that. Well, all the time, really. He apologises for eating too much, for his nightmares, for taking up space, for needing clothes, for using the bathroom – which was a whole other ordeal because he cannot grasp the concept of a relaxing bath. When I explained it to him, he just stared at me like I was actively setting fire to the house. We got used to each other, though. I'd even say we've become friends! He still doesn't talk much and mostly listens to me, but he's taken a liking to listening to the old CDs I play when I cook, and learning how to take care of plants. He likes walking on the beach with Rocky and I. I taught him how to make apple pie and he loved it and has made several pies since. He has less nightmares, he gets up less often to check the pantry… He's doing a little better.
The hardest part was coming to terms with the fact that there is probably nothing to do about The Quiet Rapture. Simon believes everyone went to AT-5 and for my own sanity, I am choosing to believe he is wrong because I can’t believe that something conscious somehow managed to put an end to everything. I took a long break from my classes, to take care of Simon, to research The Quiet Rapture and eventually recover from the fact that it’s hopeless. After Rocky mentioned that my students missed me a lot, I managed to get it back together enough to plan for my next lesson. Now I’m having my usual morning coffee before my class while Simon sleeps i-
“Grace?” I turn around and see him standing at his bedroom door.
“Hey Simon! Sorry, did I wake you up with the coffee machine?”
“No, no, I just got up,” he shakes his head and sits in front of me, “can I ask you something?”
“Yeah, sure. But I don't have much time before class.”
“Of course, yeah. It's just… Can I come? I'll just sit down and listen with the kids.”
“You want to attend one of my classes?”
“Well, I've never been to Earth, and I really liked that documentary about bees you showed me. I'm curious.”
“Yeah! Sure, come along, it'll be fun! I'm mostly used to teaching kids so hopefully you won't feel too infantilized.”
“I won't. I like how you explain things. It's fun,” he smiles at me with the sweetest expression. I find Simon to be very genuine, very direct, which I do appreciate. No secret code to crack. He just speaks his mind and I know he means every word he says. He does find me funny, “and I like the way you speak to me. You don't treat me like I'm stupid because I don't know what a fox or an almond is. You just pull out a book, show me pictures and explain. You're kind.” I never know how to take compliments, so I just… smile and scoff.
“To be fair, you're a very good listener. I'm sure you'll get along with the kids, they're very curious just like you. You'll have to introduce yourself, though. And they might ask you very blunt questions. You've met Rocky, now imagine that with even less social awareness.”
“I can imagine,” he smiles, “I'll try and answer them.”
“Also… don't take this the wrong way, but please try and not swear in front of the kids. Like the f-word? Not ideal for young minds.”
“Oh, of course. I'll try.”
…
“Alright, kids! This is my new friend Simon. He’s going to join us for today’s class. I know you’ve all heard of him, and you’re all very excited to meet him, but he’s still getting used to all of this, so you have two minutes to ask him questions in three, two, one… Go! Yes, Ripley!” I exclaim, pointing to my usually introverted student.
“Is Simon human, question?” I turn to Simon.
“Yes. I am.”
“Why Simon’s teeth outside face, question?” asks another voice.
“Erm… I don’t know, I woke up like this.” he explains.
“Where is Simon’s arm, question?”
“I had to cut it off because I was stuck.” I’m watching Simon’s face carefully. These questions are all innocent and I think he knows that, but that’s no reason to let him get uncomfortable.
“Simon’s eye pretty. Like nebula!”
“Oh. Thanks.” he says, visibly surprised.
“Does Simon science too?”
“Eh, not at all. That’s why I’m here.”
“Simon learn with us! Amaze, amaze!” exclaim a few students.
“Simon Grace’s mate, question?” I can’t identify who said it. I’m about to interrupt when Simon answers.
“Yeah, he is.” he nods confidently.
What?
“What? What, what– What do you mean?” I ask, looking over at him while the kids all start talking at the same time.
“Well we’re friends, aren’t we?” He looks at me like I’m stupid.
“That’s not what they mean!” I exclaim, slightly anxious at the idea that tomorrow the whole planet will be looking forward to studying human’s courting behaviours, “they’re– Jeeze, they’re asking if you’re my boyfriend. Well, they think you’re my boyfriend.”
“Oh. Oh–! Fuck! I mean– shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–” the computer is buzzing with students happily rejoicing at the idea of me finally finding my other half. It takes me about five minutes to calm them all down, close the Q&A, explain that Simon is not my mate and finally get started on the lesson. Things go very well. After much consideration I decided to keep Jaws for another day. They all ask questions about whales, dolphins and orcas. Simon too. I keep an eye on him given his history with depth, but to my surprise, he looks as fascinated as the rest of my students. As if it just occurred to him that the ocean could be beautiful.
…
“Sorry again about the misunderstanding.” Simon says, while he helps me cook dinner. “I’m not sure they bought your explanations.”
“Haha, no worries,” I brush off, “they’ll give it up eventually.” I don’t know why but this misunderstanding made me think. I know I am not in love with Simon, but I would lie if I said his presence hadn’t brought something to my life. He’s easy even if he doesn’t think he is. I’ve met more stable people much harder to exist around, and I don’t care if he screams every night as long as I can make him smile in the morning. “I mean of course they’re going to picture us as mates, we’re the only humans they’ve ever seen, and they want us to be happy, but that’s not– well, not that I wouldn’t be happy being your mate, but we’ve known each other for just a few months, and – well some people start dating after a few weeks – but we don’t, I mean we’re not— that’s not what we’re looking for? At least I don’t think it is? I haven’t thought about my sexuality in a very long time, and you, I don’t even know if you’re gay or straight, or ace, not that I want to kno–”
“What does that mean?” he asks. Thank God, I needed to stop talking.
“The words you just said. Gay, straight…”
“Oh. Gay means you’re attracted to the same gend– you don’t have these words?”
“Not really. Some movements encourage relationships that don’t lead to pregnancies, but that’s pretty much it.”
“I guess you had other things to care about than labels.”
“I’ve never thought about it. I’ve never been with anyone. They kept an eye on relationships to use them against you, so I avoided them.” I keep quiet. “I don’t…” he pauses, staring at the vegetables he was chopping. “I like you, Grace. But I don’t know why.” Ouch. “I mean… Do I like you because I do or because you’re the only human I’m ever going to see again?”
“That’s fair.” I haven’t considered that. Why do I like Simon? I need a good reason to like him, not ‘he’s there and cute’. “Sorry if I’m making things weird. I don’t care– I’d be very happy if we just kept living like this.” I say. Simon nods and smiles back at me.
“So would I.”
Part 3
I wanna write Bloodymary stuff sooooo bad but I haven't seen either of the movies (yay Europe /sarcastic) and it's pissing me oooooooff
If I read ONE MORE fic dumbing down Simon I WILL START THROWING HANDS
