Kayyyuh
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Summary
Eddie is surprised and unprepared to learn that his alien boyfriend has a mating cycle.
AKA Local Sweaty Millenial Get Fuckin Wrecked by his Large Alien Ink Monster
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i sweat my rust by Cypherr
Fandoms: Iron Lung (2026), Project Hail Mary (2026), Project Hail Mary - Andy Weir
11 Jun 2026
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Simon wakes slowly, booting up one atom at a time. The first thing he registers is that he's pleasantly warm— not the suffocating heat of whatever iron lung they had sent him down to die in. The second thing he registers is the plushness of whatever surface he's lying on. There's no harsh metal boiling against his skin. He doesn't immediately open his eyes. His brain feels syrupy and full of fog all at once, and he finds it rather nice to just exist in this soft in-between. He'd done good, hadn't he? Was this Heaven? He died on that ship, in the mouth of a vengeful beast that couldn't recognize its own ghastlyness. Heaven was nice, Simon decided. He liked Heaven.
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in the garden of eden by fadeawayradiate
Fandoms: Iron Lung (2026), Project Hail Mary (2026), Bloodymary - Fandom
03 Jun 2026
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Eridians have recreated more of Earth than Grace could have imagined. Waves, trees, flowers — Grace is grateful for all of it. Simon feels the same, even if he doesn’t say as much. Grace can tell from how curious Simon has become.
Answering his questions about plant life was a breakthrough for their relationship. So, as long as Simon wants to know something, Grace is willing to teach him about it. It's just that giving a lesson on this particular flower isn't quite like what Grace is used to teaching about. After all, it's not like he'd have ever brought up marijuana in the classroom.
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Rocky gets a lesson in the human complexities of self-harm and suicide after seeing scars on Grace's thighs.
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“Grace have stripes, question?”
I pause my movement to look over at my shipmate. My shirt is scrunched up by my shoulders, unmoving since I froze mid pulling it up over my head. I relax my arms, but don’t drop them, to consider what he could possibly be talking about.
“What?” I called out toward him.
“Grace has stripes on skin, statement. Rocky did not know.” He pauses and makes a chiming sound, “Not important. Observation.”
I look down at my expanse of skin. Stripes? Where would there be– Air leaves my body as my eyes land on the thin, barely there lines across the soft underpart of my left arm.
“Ah. My arm?”
Wait, no. That doesn’t make sense. He’s been around me this whole time, and I almost never wear long sleeves. I wear a jacket sometimes, sure, but plenty of t-shirts. T-shirts, like, all the time, actually. I decide that he’s not talking about the marks on my arm. He hadn’t said anything about them until now. He had to have noticed them before, so he means something else. Stripes. Stripes? Stripes!
Ouegh. Stripes.
“My stretchmarks.” I correct him.
---Rocky sees Grace's stretchmarks, and it prompts a conversation about them and his self-harm scars.