Thinking about writing a very long PHM fic where the building doesnāt blow up and Grace can stay on earth, still working with Stratt.
One day, a new engineer is signed on; a tall, blunt, yet strangely charismatic man, seemingly able to do anything, always in a brown jumpsuit with a turquoise wedding ring and wavy hair thatās so voluminous it can barely be tied back. Heās got snark for days and brown eyes one could lose themselves in so easily.
Now, heās in an open marriage, see, and even though he and Grace clash often over anything and everything, thereās something that seems to always bring the two together, as if by a red string of fate. Close proximity turns annoyance and barbs thrown across workspaces into exasperated affection to somehow knowing the otherās sentences before they finish them and being referred to as a dividual to Feelings neither of them were prepared for and ādonāt have the time forā but simply canāt ignore anyways which turns toā¦
Of course, years pass, the Hail Mary lifts off, the astronauts wake up alive and well. Thereās really no reason for either of them to stay on anymore.
And yetā¦ in the midst of all the celebrating, both men feel like leaving the other would be like tearing a part of their soul out.
They date, doing all the stupid sappy couple bullshit, Grace is introduced to the otherās spouse, which turns all their stupid sappy couple bullshit into stupid sappy throuple bullshit. They live together, they love together, as if nothing else matteredā because really, in this near apocalypse? It doesnāt.
One day, Grace comes to bed, automatically seeking his partnerās arm. Routine. Perfect. He closes his eyes, settling into the warmth and safety of the body around him.
stormborns
yousharknotpass
gummygunk
titsay
dailybridgerton
origamiaround
pixelskylines
vaporwave
