DaniiButNotBeck
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Project Hail Mary AU.
OR: A novelist, a paranoid engineer, and an amnesiac pilot are humanity's last hope for saving the sun from an alien organism Carol accidentally invented in a romance novel.
Bookmarked by MorganYuCore (DaniiButNotBeck)
29 Mar 2026
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When Mira says something she maybe (definitely) shouldn't in the throes of passion, it leads to a surprising confession from Rumi. Rumi, who can and does come. Rumi, who can and does come only when she is alone and at her own hand...and who would like to be able to eventually come with her girlfriends and under their tender (and enthusiastic) attention.
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The rest of Rumi's words are lost in a mumble.
'What was that?'
'She said,' Zoey translates again, seeming delighted to be the conveyor of good news, 'that it was fine! When you asked her to come inside of you,' she adds, in case Mira had forgotten.
She hadn't.
And neither had the rest of her body, which gives another delicious full-body shiver at the thought.
Bookmarked by MorganYuCore (DaniiButNotBeck)
23 Mar 2026
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She could pick one.
That was the whole point of being unhived—she was free, she had preferences now, she could reach out and take any bread she wanted off any shelf and put it in the cart and that would be fine. That was what free people did. They chose bread. It was not complicated. People used to do it every day before the Joining and none of them had a breakdown over it.
OR: Post-unhiving. Zosia goes grocery shopping with Carol, can't choose bread, and cooks dinner with a dead woman's recipe.
Bookmarked by MorganYuCore (DaniiButNotBeck)
11 Mar 2026
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The smart operating system said "Good afternoon, Carol" in a Polish accent, and Carol said "Absolutely not" before it finished the sentence.
OR: A smart home AU. Helen's last act of love is a kitchen appliance with a Polish accent. Carol's last act of stubbornness is falling in love with it.
Bookmarked by MorganYuCore (DaniiButNotBeck)
11 Mar 2026
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“Here,” she murmured, cupping the underside of Rhea’s jaw as she reached for her cheek. “Sorry about that.”
Rhea ducked out of her grip, and left her hand hovering. “No.”
Her fingers twitched apart, then back together. Confusion rippled across her brow, and a sharp pang of guilt struck Rhea in the center of her chest.
“Just—” she said quickly, shaking her head as she took a step closer. “Don’t be. I like it.”
(Critics' Choice Awards lipstick mark aftermath, and some foreshadowing of what's to come.)
Bookmarked by MorganYuCore (DaniiButNotBeck)
11 Mar 2026