#i was trying to sleep earlier and could Not

[ladylokianna]

The nearness of you

The main blame for this one-shot lies entirely to Queen Gorgo and her line "your lips can finish what your fingers have started".

Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader (i'm not used to use the first person p.o.v. mainly because in English i usually mess everything up by trying to fit verb tenses together so i hope everything is comprehensible). 

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Fluff but a little smut towards the end, nothing too explicit 'cause i'm not good at writing it. Fairly ooc Aemond, obviously. But, as I've already said, I really like a softer Aemond, and I like the idea that, with the right person, he would totally show his feelings (after a lot of convincing, of course, as we all know how lacking in affection and love our guy is, and it would take him quite a while before he would let himself go).   

Beta reader: my sister, but like me, she's too obsessed with Aemond and i'm afraid she is not entirely objective. Whatever. Enjoy.

***

Wrapping yourself in your heavy velvet dressing gown, you quickly went back to bed after adding a couple of wooden logs to brighten the fire in the huge fireplace, watching Aemond sleeping peacefully in the dim glow provided by the candles and the burning fire.

He lies prone, his arms folded under the pillow and one leg slightly bent towards the middle of the mattress. His slender body, chiselled by years of training, is relaxed, his features softened.

Despite the fact that the two of you have been married for a long time and that you know every single millimetre of his body, shyness sometimes leads you to blush in front of him, as if you still were the inexperienced young maiden of your wedding night.

You stretch out a hand, at first caressing gently his scarred cheek with the knuckles, paying attention to not hurt his wounded eye, then stroking his head with caring touches, enjoying the sensation of the silky strands between your fingers. He is so distant from the unflattering portrait that your aunt made of him as soon as the news of your betrothal was spreaded through the realm, who depicted Aemond as a "monster ready to feed you to his dragon at his first bad day".

A bit introvert, with a closed-off and apparently unfriendly character, maybe sometimes grumpy but definitely not a monster, Aemond is always caring and gentle with you and the few people he trust and love. Otherwise, you had learnt that his usual demeanour is just a façade, that the real Aemond is the one hanging with you in the library, flying with Vhagar or laying in your marital bed. But all is fine as it is, you surely don't want to change or fix him in any way: after all, what's wrong with him to fix? You love him as he is, and people needs to be loved as they are, not as the world would like them to be.

You move your hand down slowly along his shoulders, feeling under your fingertips the scratches you remember leaving him with the nails during the night, marks that you could find again on his shoulder blades and down his muscular back, on his narrow, jerky hips, marks that goes alongside with older ones earned during his strict sword training. If you close your eyes, you can easily recall the sensation of his muscles moving beneath your touch and the heat of his skin against yours, his hands ceaselessly travelling on your body and his weight as he hold you firmly still against the mattress with the absolute need to feel you trembling beneath him, to hear you screaming his name on each deep and precise thrust of his hips.

Your gaze follows the trail of your nails even further, on the roundness of Aemond's buttocks, on which you suddenly no longer have the courage to stretch your hand, despite the fact that only few hours earlier you had grasped them with all your strength to pull him as closer as possible to your core so he could sink deeper into your walls.

"We'll end up keeping the whole fortress awake... i can stop if it's too much, mh?" he'd chuckled out of the blue, teasing you a little after a loud cry escaped your mouth.

"Don't you dare." was your response, hissed in his ear and making him laugh heartily. "My word, Aemond, if you stop now, i'll make you pay for it."

"Oh, would you? I'm almost tempted to stop right now just to see how you will make me pay for my disobedience."

Shooking your head, with your hand still steady right above the dimples at the bottom of his back, you furtively check if Aemond is still asleep, surrendering to the urge to repeat the same gestures of that night: taking a deep breath, your hand lingered on the smooth skin of his bare ass, savouring that feeling for a while before squeezing it gently.

"Your lips can finish what your fingers have started."

You gasp surprised, blushing like you're again that little girl caught stealing the pastries set to cool in the kitchens of your father's castle, noticing the smirk painted on Aemond's lips and his wonderful eye pointed at you, clearly amused and flattered by your attentions.

"I thought... Gods... i thought you were asleep... how long have you been awake?"

"Hm...a while. Let's say since i felt your fingers on my face." he hummed, noticing your reddened cheeks. "How come that we're married for a long time yet you still blush over me? Oh, look at you... don't be shy, darling. You know you can touch whatever you want, whenever you want."

Blushing was the least of it, since a glance from him was often enough to set you on fire.

"Keep going though, i was enjoying it."

Yeah, of course he was. "What a little rascal you are."

With a wide smile Aemond turns on his back, offering his whole being to your gaze, to your will.

"Come darling, come to me." whispers, stretching his arms towards you and guidind you on top.

His skin felt so familiar and warm it hurt your heart. Moving a little, you adjust yourself on his pelvis before running your hands over him again, and again, and again, until suddenly you can feel his yearning running through his veins like a fire, bringing his blood to the boiling point, flushing his skin: you can sense it by the way his manhood is already leaking against you. With his breathing more strained, Aemond pulls himself up to sit, his muscles tensed at every single touch on his body, letting you taking him again as his hands flattened against your spine, drawing you as closer as possible.

"Don't be shy, you can do what you want to me. I'm yours."

[sweetpupii]

currently thinking about sleepy sex with ellie :(

omg fnnfnfdnjdn 😖

cw - somno

ellie who cannot keep her hands to herself even while she's falling asleep, needs it. the warmth, needs the feeling of your skin, she needs to be as close as humanly possible if not more.

you barely had any time to get under the covers before her hands automatically found their way under your shirt, palm on your stomach to tug you closer—calloused fingers stroked lazy shapes against your skin. her front flush against your back, lips messily meeting your shoulder with a low hum.

baby had to wake up earlier than usual for patrol and was so fucking tiredddd </3

“my hand's not cold…” the sound of her voice was muffled against your back and as much as she denies it, her hand is definitely cold, freezing I dare to say. this woman is an ice cube most of the time. with that body temperature she might as well be liquid nitrogen pretending to be a person.

( and she takes advantage of it to cuddle. )

“ellie, I swear—get your hand away,” you shot back, trying to squirm away from her cold grip, but it only made her tighten her hold, pulling you even closer.

“mm, stop moving,” she whined, her tone dipping into that sleep-drunk whimper that made your resolve crumble most of the time. “you’re warm… feels nice.” her nose nuzzled the back of your neck, lips brushing your skin.

ugh, so stubborn and clingy.

don't blame her if she starts to grind against your ass while spooning, she just wants to be warm! and honestly it's her body acting purely out of instinct.

it's not just to fuck, it's to soothe herself to sleep.

her hips moved in small, unthinking rolls, completely involuntary, like her body was acting on autopilot. she wasn’t fully there—her needy murmurs were barely coherent, breath hot against your neck as she clung tighter.

even if there's no direct contact she lets out little, groany whimpers on your neck while her hand stills its movements every now and then. hazy mind unable to focus on doing multiple things at once. she's awful at multitasking when eepy.

all she can think about is feels good feels good feels good and how her hand goes to grip your hips, you could be dead asleep and her body keeps moving. the hot, tingly feeling in ellie's lower abdomen making her unable to stop. she'll apologize for her horny actions in the morning with extra kisses!

if you're awake enough to turn around though? ugh, she goes insane.

puffy lips finding your own in an instant, the kiss sloppy and desperately uncoordinated. she goes at it like she's starved, like she'll die in her sleep if she doesn't kiss ( eat ) you right now. her thigh situates itself in-between yours to rub there, feeling the already sticky mess dripping from the fabric of your underwear onto her skin. she’s so grateful for every decision she took in her life that led her to wear shorts as PJs.

the movements don't have any pace or rhythm—she's too tired for that—but they don't stop, she doesn't want them to and the little sounds you make show that you don't want that either.

she feels your thighs clench around hers and the way your hand grips her shirt, the smooth skin on her thigh coated with arousal.

“so good…” ellie muttered while the wet, messy open-mouthed kisses trail down your neck. they start to go a bit slower and less frequent than before as she grows more and more tired. the whiny sighs slipping from your lips sound like a lullaby to her barely conscious brain.

her panties are still soaked but her poor body can't keep going for longer. her own orgasm will have to wait until tomorrow because she's out like light the second you come.

night night. ♡

[daisymbin]

Hey can i get 41. "you’re staring again—what’s on your mind?" Female reader asking Joshua? Pls thanks🤍

ah!! thank you for requesting!! hope you enjoy this one!

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist!

fluff prompt 41: "you're staring again—what's on your mind?"

it was late, the kind of quiet that only settles when the world has gone to sleep. the warm glow of the table lamp painted the room in soft amber, the kind of light that made everything feel a little more intimate. you were curled up on the couch, a book in your lap, though you hadn’t turned the page in a while.

you could feel his gaze.

joshua sat on the opposite end, his arm draped over the back of the couch like he had nowhere else to be. he wasn’t even pretending to hide it this time, his eyes trained on you with a softness that made your chest tighten.

“you’re staring again.” you tried to sound nonchalant, keeping your eyes on the book. but the words came out quieter than you’d intended. “what’s on your mind?”

he didn’t answer right away. you finally looked up to find him smiling, that small, lopsided smile that always made you weak.

“you.”

just the single word, and it felt like all the air had been knocked out of the room. your heart stumbled in your chest, and you fought the urge to look away, to hide the way your cheeks were surely betraying you.

“me?” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“you,” he repeated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “i can’t help it. you do this thing—” he paused, his smile growing wider, almost teasing. “you make everything else disappear. it’s hard to focus on anything when you’re here.”

“that’s—” your voice caught, and you quickly cleared your throat. “that’s ridiculous.”

he laughed softly, the sound filling the quiet space between you. “is it?”

you stared at him then, trying to figure out if he was joking, if this was one of those moments where he was just being joshua—playful, impossible to read. but his gaze held steady, warm and unwavering, and you felt like you were the only thing in the world he was seeing.

“you don’t mean that,” you said finally, though even you didn’t sound convinced.

“i do,” he said, his voice softer now, almost shy. “i think about you all the time. more than i probably should.”

your breath hitched, and for a moment, you weren’t sure what to say. the book in your lap suddenly felt heavy, your fingers tightening around its edges.

“you… you shouldn’t say things like that unless you mean them,” you said quietly, your eyes dropping to the floor.

“i mean them,” he said, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “every word.”

when you looked up, he was closer, close enough that you could see the way his eyes softened, the sincerity in them clear as day.

“so… what’s on your mind?” he asked, echoing your earlier question, though his tone was lighter now, teasing.

“you,” you admitted, the word barely a whisper.

his smile widened, and this time, he didn’t look away.

[magicalrocketships]

pretty much every day i just think abt small!max saying "daniel, my daniel" when he sees dan. it's with me forever!! ok that's all

Okay, this awakened something in me, and I've missed Go Small! Max. Thank you, anon!

All earlier parts can be found in this masterpost and on AO3 here.

Five times Max calls Daniel ‘my Daniel’ (and one other time)

One. 

"No," Max says politely but with zero room for negotiation. "I don't want that."

That is a plate of sandwiches that look decidedly soggy, oil softened vegetables leaking out of a thickly sliced sourdough. 

Daniel looks up at the waiter. "Could you do some sliced bread and butter instead?" he asks, moving Max's plate out from in front of him. He finds room for it on the table next to him and opens up the sandwiches, starting to scrape the vegetables out onto the plate. In hindsight, it was a bad order. He'd seen the tomatoes and thought that Max might like them. 

The waiter comes back over with two slices of bread and a pat of butter; Daniel makes yet more room on the table to butter the bread and cut it into halves, then deposits it in front of Max. He goes back to scraping the mediterranean vegetables out of the sandwich, dumps the bread on his plate, then starts to pull out the tomatoes so that they're separate from the rest of the vegetables. He offers the plate to Max, who stares at it dubiously. 

"You like tomatoes," Daniel says. 

"Hmm," Max says. 

Daniel doesn't force him. He sets the plate down and shows Max his fork in case he wants to try anything, then eats his own pesto chicken on toasted sourdough. 

Max picks at his bread and butter, then after eating a piece, he uses his fork to carefully eat two little roasted tomatoes. He clearly considers this enough vitamins and nutrients for this meal, and goes back to his bread and butter. He does, however, drink his apple juice. 

"Is the bread nice?" Daniel asks. His sandwich is decidedly mediocre. 

Max considers. "Yes," he says finally. "Thank you, my Daniel."

Something inside of Daniel's chest shifts. He's changed forever. 

"Good," he says, his voice catching. "I'm glad."

&&&

Two. 

Max hasn't wet the bed in weeks. The nightlights had finally managed to turn frequent into infrequent into barely ever. 

Barely ever isn't not ever, though. Daniel's woken up by an insistent little hand on his shoulder. "My Daniel," Max says, sniffling. 

Daniel blinks away sleep. "What's up?"

"The bed's wet," Max says. 

Daniel sits up. "That's okay, Maxy-Max," he says. "That's okay. Nobody's mad."

Max sucks in a ragged, tearful breath. 

Daniel kisses Max's flushed forehead. "Let's go get you cleaned up."

Max tucks his hand into Daniel's, sleepy and tearful, and holds on. 

&&&

Three. 

"I didn't know where you were," Max says reprovingly, once he's discovered Daniel face down on the sofa, snoring into a Pokemon cushion with the TV on low, and poked him awake. "There's no breakfast bowl."

That is a reprimand. The rule is, no TV before breakfast. TV is allowed with breakfast, but the new rule came into force last week when Max refused to eat anything because he wanted to watch Detective Pikachu through to the end even though his tummy was rumbling. So: no TV before breakfast. 

Daniel didn't go to sleep until after four, though, and he's only out here in the living room because he'd finally got bored of watching the time tick by on his sunrise alarm clock and had resigned himself to pulling an all-nighter. He'd come out here to drink coffee and watch whatever he could find on TV in the middle of the night, then had promptly passed out eight minutes into an old episode of Friends. 

"You have to turn the TV off," Max repeats. 

Daniel obliges. He still feels mostly asleep. He rubs his fists into his eyes. 

"Hmm," Max says. 

"I didn't sleep very well," Daniel says. He doesn't look at his watch but Max likes to be awake pretty early. As an adult Max likes to sleep late, but kid Max doesn't feel the same way. Consequently, Daniel's life has flipped to an early bird timetable. His body hasn't quite caught up, though, and there have always been nights where he's stared at the ceiling for far too many hours. "Might have to be careful with me today, champ." He does finger guns to try and make it cool, but he's just tired. 

Max blinks at him. "Okay, my Daniel." He turns on his heel and disappears out of the living room, before coming back in clutching Pikachu. "You can hug Pikachu," he says. There's a pause. "Can we have breakfast now?"

Daniel laughs. "Sure can," he says, wrapping an arm around Pikachu's round middle. "What are we having today? Would monsieur like a fish? An omelette?" He does his silliest French accent. It's very bad. Max laughs. He always has the exact same breakfast. Max likes cereal. Cereal, and his milk in his own special jug. He won't entertain anything else. "A croissant, Max? A fried egg? Un oeuf?"

"No, no, no," Max says. "Cereal, please."

"Coming right up, monsieur," Daniel says, and as Max pads into the kitchen in his pyjamas, Daniel's heart skips a little soft beat. 

&&&

Four. 

"Daniel, my Daniel," Max calls, barely even waiting for Daniel to get out of the car. Daniel's been into the village to get fresh bread for lunch, and he's come back with wine for him and his parents, a few bits and pieces his dad had wanted for their dinner that evening, and a new bat and ball game for if Max can be tempted out of the pool for any significant period of time. 

Daniel grabs the bags. "Maxy-Max," he calls back, finishing off with his best camel impression just to make him laugh. He wanders around to the back of the house to the pool, where his mum and dad are — predictably — in the water with Max. "Mum, Dad. Everyone present and correct, I see."

"Watch me," Max tells him, clambering out of the pool and getting water everywhere. "Look what I can do now!" 

"I'm watching," Daniel says. 

He watches Max sit down on the edge of the pool with his feet in the water. He puts his hands above his head, shaped like he's going to dive, and Daniel knows what he's going to see. This is how he got taught to go into the water face first. His parents taught him and now they're teaching Max. 

Max tilts forward and forward until he's going into the water in a little seated dive. He emerges from the water, beaming, to Daniel's mum and dad clapping him, and Daniel cheering. Max swims over to the steps, and Daniel's waiting for him at the top of them. He gets a very wet and very excited hug. 

"Did you see?" Max asks. 

"I saw," Daniel says. He blinks away tears. He doesn't know why he's crying. "I saw, and you were brilliant."

"Good," Max says solidly, and follows Daniel inside, little wet footprints all the way after him. 

&&&

Five. 

Max is three. He's sleepy and full, a solid little lump in Daniel's lap. He's demanded three stories already before bed tonight, and Daniel's accommodating because in the morning this little version of Max might be gone. Daniel might get his seven year old Max back, or he might wake up to an empty bed and two missing cats, and Max having left to pick his life back up. 

Daniel kisses the top of Max's head. "This is the last story," he says, but he'll probably stretch it out until Max falls asleep right where he's sitting. There's no rush, anyway. There's nothing for either of them to do with their days. He turns the pages in their little book about kittens.

"My Daniel," Max says sleepily, a little garbled around his thumb. He sucks his thumb when he's three, and Daniel hasn't any interest in stopping him. He'll let Max have anything he finds comforting. He deserves the little kindnesses. 

"My Max," Daniel says softly. Max is falling asleep in his arms, his eyes drooping. It's time to put him to bed. "Time for sleep, my little Max. Time for bed."

Max is asleep by the time Daniel's carried him through into the bedroom. He doesn't stir as Daniel tucks him in, as he makes sure the nightlights are all turned on and that Pikachu's in easy reach. 

He stands in the doorway for a long time before he turns away. 

&&&

(And Another Time)

Daniel is so, so tired. His body feels heavy. His mum had gone with him to the doctor's yesterday, and they'd stopped at a pharmacy on the way home to pick up his new pills. She'd brought him a glass of water and a plate of crackers to have with the first dose. He'd downed them all obediently. 

They're not magic. He's not woken up this morning feeling happy again, or like his chest is more than the black, sucking hole where his heart used to be. 

He doesn't open his eyes. A tear escapes without his permission. He hates this. He hates feeling like he does right now, hates the nothingness, the weight of his body against the earth. 

"Hey, Daniel, my Daniel." It's Max, sleeping next to him for the fourth night in a row. He's big but he hasn't left. He always leaves but this time he hasn't. He's still here. He strokes Daniel's hair. "It is okay. I am here and your mum's here. We will make it all all right again. I promise, Daniel. You don't need to cry." He strokes his thumb under Daniel's eye, catching Daniel's stray tears. He wipes his thumb on the sheets then curls his hand into Daniel's. He laces their fingers together. "We've got you."

And Daniel, desperate, holds on. 

&&&

(thank you to Lin @andwegogreen for reading these as I wrote them tonight 🧡🧡🧡)

[strwberri-milk]

hello! i love your works and i would like to suggest how lads men would handle/react if you were drugged when both of you attended an event?

Zayne feels the difference in your body/reaction once the drug starts to take effect. He watches you carefully, fully aware that you didn't seem like you were going to be sick earlier in the day. He immediately tells you to stop eating or drinking anything, unsure what the source of it was.

He'd want to take you to the hospital in case things get worse. Thankfully, he realised quickly enough that something was wrong quickly enough for nothing to really happen. You tease him for worrying too much as he stays by your side, watching closely to see if other symptoms will manifest. There's a slight shake in your voice despite the tease, Zayne cradling you close as he comforts you. He'll try his best to try and find out exactly why you were targeted - if it was intentional or not.

You tell Xavier immediately that you don't feel well. His first response is to scope out the entire crowd, figure out who looks the most suspicious. He wants to go after them but when you tug at his sleeve he'll pause. He tells you to wait in the car and call him if things get worse, tailing the individual.

He returns to the car shortly, hair and clothes only mildly dishevelled as he asks you if you want to go home or if you feel too ill to. He tells you that thankfully it was just something that you can sleep off, not really elaborating on how he got that information.

Rafayel's pissed, especially if you were hurt at his own event. His eyes narrow, immediately locating the person who drugged you. He doesn't want to leave your side but his first response is also violence. You don't want to be separated from him either, holding onto him as you try to keep steady. His response is to care for you, taking you home immediately to ensure you're alright.

He doesn't do anything right away but he doesn't forget faces when it comes to you. You'd never know it but behind the scenes the person who dared hurt you received a rather permanent warning not to touch what's his. He doesn't go out himself, just uses his extensive network as a flex of his reach.

Sylus reacts similarly to Rafayel. He knows the second he starts looking into the crowd with a dark look on his face everybody is going to know that something is wrong and he is not going to tolerate it. He moves through the crowd with purpose, the twins descending upon on either side of you to keep you safe while Sylus seeks out the person who thought they could touch you without his permission.

He chooses not to drag out his punishment - at least, not while you're watching. He simply knocks them out with a strong punch to the jaw, watching them crumple to the ground. He gives the others a smug look, the slight quirk of his brow reminding them just how powerful he is. He then wordlessly leaves with you on his arm, spending the evening monitoring your status.

[whump-imagines]

Stomach Flu

Buddie x reader

Wc: 1700 ish

You laid in bed trying desperately to fall asleep. Some kind of stomach flu had found you and was clearly trying to kill you. All night you’d been fighting blankets because you'd be hot and then freezing and then hot again. And when you'd thought maybe you'd gotten comfortable the nausea would hit.

The toilet was your new best friend. You’d spent a decent amount of time clinging to the bowl for dear life. It was worse than any bad night of drinking you had ever had.

So now you were momentarily a comfortable temperature and not as nauseous so you didn't dare move as you begged for sleep to come.

Next thing you know the bed is jostled aggressively as Buck jumps onto the mattress and asks, “You're still in bed?”

The sudden movement sends a jolt of pain through your skull and nearly causes you to puke. You launch yourself out of bed and into the bathroom. Falling to your knees, you empty the non-existent contents of your stomach.

Eddie is knelt beside you a moment later. He takes your hair in one hand and rubs your back with the other.

“Ugh. My best friend, we meet again,” you mumble into the toilet bowl.

“Again?” Eddie asks. “What do you mean again?”

Rolling your forehead across the arm supporting your head, you glance at him and notice Buck in the doorway. “Well this is like the thousandth time I've been here since yesterday. I think I'm dying.”

Eddie runs his hand over your head then presses the back of his hand to your forehead. “Baby, why didn't you call us?”

“You were working. I didn't think I needed help puking my guts out.”

“One of us could have come home,” Buck says. “Or we could have brought supplies home.”

“Supplies?”

“Soup, Tylenol, tissues, maybe…” Buck listed.

“I'd just puke it back up. Everything in comes right back out.”

“Alright, are you done for now? Do you want head back to bed?” Eddie asks.

“Moving makes me more nauseous. And my head hurts.”

“Have you had any water?” Eddie asks.

“Tried. Failed.” You lean back and the world spins. “This sucks.”

Eddie shifts you so you can relax back into him. “I bet. We're going to get you back into bed and get a bucket so you don't have to come lay on the floor in here anymore. Okay?”

“‘Kay.” You snuggle into him, enjoying his warmth.

Eddie manages to get up and lift you without too much jostling. “Can you go lay on the bed and I'll give her to you?” He asks Buck.

“Okay.” You hear the jingle of Buck’s belt and then the clank of it hitting the floor. Next, your set gently on the bed cuddled close to Buck, his arm your pillow.

“You're warm,” you announce and you press yourself even closer and move your head into his chest.

“I'll be back soon,” Eddie says. “Try to get some sleep if you can.”

You whine, not wanting him to leave. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the station. We need an IV kit, fluids, zofran, and probably Tylenol.”

“I don't want an IV.”

“Sweetheart, you're very dehydrated,” Eddie explains. “If you can't keep down water then you need the IV.”

You sigh. “Fine.”

Buck chuckles and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

Eddie leans over and kisses your head then a quick parting kiss to Buck’s lips. “Love you guys. I'll be quick.”

“We love you, too.” Buck says.

A minute later you hear Eddie’s keys jingle and then the front door open and close.

“Sorry I woke you like that earlier.”

You snort a laugh. “Not your fault, you didn't know.”

He runs his fingers up and down your side and shoulder in random patterns. “Try to sleep,” he suggests.

“Can you tell me a story?” you ask.

“What kind of story?”

“I don't care. It's just soothing to hear you talk,” you tell him. “Might help me sleep.”

He starts to tell you all about flamingos because he knows how much you love them. He explains everything from how they get their color to their migration patterns and before long you feel yourself sinking into a peaceful sleep.

You wake to the sounds of Buck and Eddie laughing. You can tell they’re trying to be quiet but the giggles are shaking you and the whole bed. “What's so funny?”

“Crap. Sorry, we didn't mean to wake you,” Buck says.

“It's fine. I need to pee anyway.” You shift to roll onto your back but end up leaned against Eddie. “You didn't tell me what was funny.”

“Just a dumb video on TikTok,” Eddie explains. “How're you feeling?”

You take a moment to consider your answer. Your head still hurts but not as much. You still have nausea but it's much more bearable. “Shitty, but kind of better.”

Buck rolls and then stands before offering you a hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” You reach over to take his hand, noticing the IV line for the first time. “I slept through that?”

“Bathroom,” Buck answers.

“Exhaustion will do that,” Eddie answers your second question.

Buck helps you up and your muscles protest the change in position. He wraps an arm around your waist as you sway slightly.

You take a deep breath and blow it out. “I'm good. Let's go.”

Eddie stands and grabs the bag of fluids you hadn't noticed hanging on a command hook on the wall.

All three of you head to the bathroom together and as you sit you look around. “I like this view of the bathroom much better than the other.”

“I prefer this, too,” Eddie says. “Especially the knowing you're not as dehydrated.”

“Yeah, you already look so much better than this morning,” Buck adds.

You slowly make your way back to the bed and as you're making yourself comfortable you catch a glimpse of the clock. “Holy crap! How is it almost 11?”

They both just chuckle. “That's what happens when you sleep for three hours,” Eddie explains.

“I think that's more sleep than I got total all night. Guess I needed a better pillow,” you laugh as you look at Buck.

“You could have had that all night if you'd called us. I'm going to go make you some soup,” Buck announces as he leaves the room.

“I'm not hungry.”

Eddie sits down beside you. “You have to try a few bites at least, okay?”

You pout at him. “I don't want to puke anymore.”

“You shouldn't. I gave you some zofran,” he tries to sooth you.

“Fine.” You roll your eyes “But you better have that bucket close by.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “It's on the floor right here, but you're not going to need it.”

“You're awfully optimistic given that I'm still nauseous.”

“You said you felt better,” he chastises. “Is it still as bad?”

Leaning back into him, you explain, “I said I feel shitty. Shitty is better than feeling like death. I'm less nauseous, but still nauseous.”

“I'm sorry you feel shitty,” he intertwines his fingers with yours and lifts it to kiss your knuckles. “The soup should help you feel less shitty. Hopefully you're just nauseous because you have nothing in your system. So just try a few bites, okay?”

Buck returns with a tray in his hands. “I have soup, the old fashioned chicken noodle just like you like. I also have saltine crackers, oyster crackers, sprite, and water.” He sets the tray in front of you and then leans in to kiss you.

You pull away quickly. “Don't kiss me. You'll catch this plague.”

“I'll risk it.”

You lift the spoon and drink a spoonful of the broth and then you pause, waiting for the nausea to get worse. When it doesn't, you continue slowly with more broth and then eventually the noodles and a couple crackers.

Eventually you manage to eat almost half the soup and a few sips of water before you set the spoon down. “I'm done. I can't handle any more right now.”

“That's fine. You ate way more than I expected,” Eddie says.

Buck takes the water and sprite off the tray and sets them on the bedside table before taking the rest away.

“Can I have my hand back yet?” You lift the hand with the IV line and give him your best pouty face.

He shakes his head. “No. I will unhook the fluids when that bag is gone but I want to keep the IV lock for now until we're sure you're going to keep all that down.”

You roll your eyes. “Fiiiiine.”

He laughs. “Do you want me to have to poke you again if you do puke more?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “No.”

“Thought so.” He boops your nose. “Glad to see you're feeling better.”

Buck returns and snuggles in beside you on the bed. “You want to pick a movie to nap through?”

You smiled and they both groaned. “Sleeping Beauty! Oh, wait, Enchanted… no, I actually want to be awake for that. Sleeping Beauty for sure.”

“Why do you make us watch princess movies when you know you're only going to watch ten minutes?” Buck complained.

“Because it's fun.” You shrugged. “Plus, then I get to dream I'm a princess.”

Buck raises an eyebrow. “Are you saying that if we switch to football as soon as you're asleep you're going to dream about that?”

“Probably.”

“Sleeping Beauty on one condition…” Eddie started.

“What?” you asked.

“Next time you get sick while we're at work, you call us immediately.”

“No,” you argued. “Because there won't be a next time. This is awful. I don't want a repeat.”

“Fine. If! If by some small chance it happens or if you just get the sniffles… you call.”

“Deal.”

Eddie gets the movie set up and you make yourself comfortable. This time you use Eddie as a body pillow and Buck drapes his arm over your waist.

The movie starts and you almost instantly feel yourself drifting. “Love you guys.” You mumble as you close your eyes.

They chorus an “I love you too,” as you fall into a dreamless slumber.

[chimindity]

brother!rafe getting tired of his sister's plushies. Warning | reader is a toddler ; don't like? don't read! :) A/N | rafe icon by my girl -> @marvelfanfics1 ♡

at first, he didn't bother him at all, as long as your plushies remained in your room. but the moment you started to drop off more and more stuffed animals in every corner of the house, every time he had to bend down to pick it up, he would usually call out for you to put it back in your room before it goes straight into the bin.

he thought it would have worked, but he keeps spotting more and more plushies every day. since you always wake up earlier than him, today you decided to gather all your plushies and walk on your tiptoes to your brother's room, trying to hold back your giggles as you get closer to his bedroom.

you step inside his room and go to climb on the other side of his bed to lay down all your plushies beside rafe, who is deeply sleeping on his side. you place your jelly cat bunny above his head on his pillow as slowly as possible to avoid waking him up. then, you slide your turtle plushie under the blanket and cover your mouth to prevent yourself from accidentally giggling.

you slowly climb out of his bed and swiftly rush back to your room, giggling on your way, eager to see your brother's reaction. you decide to patiently wait for him at the table in the kitchen. you quickly stop yourself from giggling as you hear rafe starting to yell in his room, meaning he is now awake. “goddamn. what the hell is that?” he curses to himself and goes to look for you. you warmly smile at him as he steps inside the kitchen. “good morning, rafey!” you squeal.

he lands his eyes on you and throws the stuffed bunny at you. “yeah, good morning,” he sighs while pulling out a chair to sit down. later in the day, you watch him walking into the bathroom to take a shower. you're completely oblivious to the stuffed starfish beside the shower stall until you hear him yell once again through the door, “goddamn! y/n, i swear to god, if you keep dropping off those little shits, I'll throw them into the bin.” your eyes widen at his words, and you swiftly rush to stand in front of the bathroom door.

you wait for him to open the door, he then throws the plushie out of the bathroom. he glares at you, and sighs before locking himself back in. even if he acts pissed, he knows deep down it amuses him to find your comfort object everywhere in the house. just like this one time when it wasn't rafe who found your plushie, but topper, his best friend.

as topper goes to sit on the couch beside rafe, he quickly stands up at the discomfort beneath him. he picks up the stuffed bunny to show it to your brother, who is focused on his phone. “dude, since when do you have this?” he accentuates his words, bringing the stuffed animal in front of rafe, whose eyes widen at the sight of it. he yanks it out of topper's hand and throws it farther from the couch. “it's my baby sister's. don't mind it; she pisses me off so bad. how come she has that many plushies?” he moves his hands in the air, letting out his frustration. even though you weren't at home that day, he never mentioned that moment to you.

but the moment rafe realized that you didn't mean to piss him off on purpose with your beloved stuffed bears was when he came home, frustrated at whatever happened at barry's. you startle when you hear the door slam. you swiftly walk downstairs, the stuffed bunny tightly held in your hand. you spot your brother leaning against the sink in the kitchen. you make your way to him and gently wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him from behind. you feel him tense up a bit at your touch, then he eventually turns to look at you. “rafe, are you okay?” you ask, tilting your head to the side, trying to analyze his expression.

he fakes a smile and lightly pats your head. “all good, princess. just need to be alone for a bit, okay? could you go back upstairs f'me?” he responds, leading you toward the stairs. your bottom lip juts out, and before you walk out of the room, you purposely leave your stuffed bunny beside him on the sink. rafe only notices it once you're back in your room. a smile creeps onto his face as he picks it up and brings it closer to him. “gosh, i see you a bit too much for my liking,” he murmurs to himself as he keeps looking at the plushie. he then kisses its forehead before joining you in your room to give it back to you.

taglist

@jjsfavgirl ; @nemesyaaa ; @mrvlxgrl ; @marvelfanfics1 ; @jjmaybankssurfergf ; @mylettterstoyou ; @sweetstars-posts ; @hallecarey1

[eliossun]

LAST SHOT - ego death

synopsis : interning at a random ship in space sounds like a great idea for your paper. don't you think? part -> 2 | other chapters -> 1 3 ?

characters : anya, swansea, daisuke, curly, jimmy, gn!reader (daisuke x reader implied)

content : continuation of part 1! i suggest you to read part 1 first, but if you're insistent, you can read this as a stand alone! descriptions of panicking, minor character death, the birthday party (pre crash), and . jimmy. ew

wc : 4.6k+

before you read, reader is : cold, non expressive, and the worst crime of all, a psychology major...

i tried to stick to canon interpretation as much as possible, but i put in some hcs about anya's background ^^; it's only mentioned in one part of this story, but if that bothers you, you can skip! it's not that imp in this chapter !!

- today, you weren’t woken up by your body alarm.

- normally, you would wake up earlier than everyone else, and by the time you folded your ‘bed’ properly by the door, anya’s also awake. that’s how you get to greet each other first at the start of every day. (which daisuke tries to do, but you could tell that he’s going to ignore his alarm for the first few minutes .. as usual.)

- instead, footsteps wake you up. 

- they get closer, and closer, and -

“why the fuck are you sleeping in the hallways again?”

your eyes blink open, slowly. it’s been a few hours after curfew. even with that much sleep in your system - not an ounce of sleep seeped into your body, actually - you manage to seem completely awake at the voice; like you were expecting it.

because you were. you’re surprised it took this long for him to approach you.

peering up at the figure, you find your co-pilot standing before you, looming.

“you have a bed, don’t you? why don’t you use it?”

it’s a valid question. but you can’t just say that he was the reason directly, right? no, he would throw a tantrum. you’re not afraid of what will happen to you - you’re an intern, after all. but the fate of possibly being stuck with an angry manchild for the next few months was in your hands. 

so for now, you hold his glare. 

“was i bothering you?”

if your tone was too sharp, you could just excuse it for the ‘sleepiness’. 

he seems to get that you wouldn’t falter that easily. if he answered anything remote to a yes or a no - he knows that you would just push further.

“you’re going to make more work for anya.” 

so , he diverts the conversation. 

it’s a smart tactic, and you would enjoy conversations like these with your friends. but this man before you is not a friend; you hold nothing but wariness for him. he’s trying to get a reaction out of you, and you’re not going to provide that.

“i think i can take care of myself well enough.”

you look at him, up - then down after you say those words. 

‘unlike you.’

his scowl only got worse, and by now, you’re already all cozied up, and ready to fall back asleep - even if it was only for show. you take a last peek at him, before ending the conversation.

“night.”

after a few moments, you can hear his footsteps getting further away, and you inwardly sigh.

you don’t dream that night. 

but you fall asleep with a smile on your face, and to you, that’s good enough.

- after that little confrontation of yours, jimmy has not held back in his hostility against you.

- instead of bringing down people in your presence, he had opted to bring you down as well during your psych tests.

- you don’t respond, and maintain your usual attitude when it comes to processing his psych tests.

- however, around others, he simply stares daggers into you. there is no bark; nor bite.

- he’s not scared of what others might do once they know - just.. mildly unconvinced - or so he thinks. that’s your hypothesis.

- because, what would the crew do if they knew that one of their members was being bullied only because they were resting unusually, bothering no one, and doing no harm?

- you hold it above his head every single moment; wordlessly.

- and you both know it.

- you win for the moment. but you’ll still have to watch out for him.

- nowadays, your routine.. has changed a bit. 

- unlike before, you’d wake up an hour earlier than the crew, fold your blankets, place them in the room, and then check on your supplies. 

- the bag filled with airtight seal snacks, still very abundant due to your careful rationing, check.

-your already half-filled journal, filled with months worth of research and journaling, check.

- your thrifted power banks (they are a bit more drained than you expected), check.

- your ds with additional stickers on it (mainly from daisuke, but you managed to get one from swansea. it’s a warning label for one of his tools..), check

- your taser and gun (never used, and hidden for safety), check..

- and your emotional support mp3. 

- you stare at this particular item often.

- it contained the ambiance that came from your favourite part of town. your local cafe, the buzz of the aircon in your apartment, the library, and the rain. and not to mention, your favourite books. it’s perfect.

- now to think of it, you really do miss the rain. 

- the closest you got to rain here was.. the showers. pretty sad.

- after doing your item checkup, you head towards the lounge with anya right after you’ve showered.

- the communal shower is more private now, thanks to you placing an occupied and not occupied sign - right on the small window on the bathroom door. (why was that there, anyway?)

- you both eat breakfast; then either relax there, or you’d immediately go to the medical bay. sometimes, if you had time, you’d play games with anya and daisuke until it’s time to start your day. the latter is increasingly more rare occasion by the day, though.

- sometimes curly comes in right after you and anya. sometimes, it’s daisuke who comes in, pleading for you to play with him before the day starts..

 - and on very rare occasions, swansea comes in first. 

- before doing anything, he visits the coffee machine and grabs a can of.. whatever’s available, at this point.

- .. now you’ve nearly ran out of coffee. 

- you think that’s horrifying. a whole vending machine’s worth of coffee.. 

- but to be fair, you have done the same in exam seasons. and you’re not quite dead yet, so..

- eh. maybe you shouldn’t be too worried.

- your daily work includes: learning as much as you could from anya, writing down your conclusions/observations in your journal (for academic purposes), and checking on medical supplies. 

- most of the time, people who come in request for medicine, or have sustained some cuts/bruises. people rarely get sick, and when they do, you’ve tried your best to stop them from working. it’s dangerous to work whilst sick, especially considering that everyone’s job is pretty .. dangerous.

- think about it. if you had to work as a mechanic whilst you’re sick, what are the chances of damaging the ship? and if you were piloting while you’re sick.. the ship might crash.

- you don’t want to entertain the possibilities, so you end up forcing them to their rooms.

- at the end of the day, you take another shower, before changing into another set of pony express uniform. 

- you’re starting to get tired of looking at the same yellow and reds. perhaps you could’ve brought more personal clothing.. 

- after lounging in the living room (what daisuke likes to call it), you pull your blankets out once again, and sleep.

- that has been your routine for these past few months.

- it’s not that bad. surface wise - it’s not as bad as your daily life before the internship.

- but mentally? this is challenging. 

- you’re starting to miss grass, of all things. grass. 

- that green weed that grows from the ground- the dirt? yeah. you’re starting to miss that.

- you realise you’ve taken a lot of things for granted whilst you were in this metal hunk. 

- that includes the sun.

- recalling this all just as you’re about to eat dinner made you suddenly miss the moon too.

- as you open the door, it revealed the entire crew already seated, and you were the last person to join dinner.

- your seat is empty, in the middle of anya and curly.

- your eyes linger on the group, laughing together on the dining table. 

- as you were observing the whole crew from afar, daisuke manages to spot you, and then calls you over. 

- anya sends you a smile as she looks in your direction as well. curly follows after, sending you a smile, swansea nods at you. 

- your chest felt warm that night.

- .. maybe you really should treasure these moments more as well.

- there is one extra addition to your bi-daily tasks.

- laundry with daisuke. 

- or laundai… can you guess who made that pun?

- every three to four days, you meet up with him in front of the laundry room, basket of laundry in your arms, and his own laundry in his. 

- it’s not that he’s incapable of doing it - but he insists that you do it together on the day of the detergent accident. ever since then, you’ve been accompanying him.

- you try to spot if he adds too much or too little detergent, taught him which buttons to press on what occasions, and you also teach him how to pick up his laundry quickly.

- sometimes you do machine maintenance.. removing the tray at the bottom and washing the insides of the machine.

- while the laundry runs, you often just sit there together. seeing the laundry tumble, soap and water mixing together. 

- one time, he asked to go on a surfing trip with you. he made a comparison between the two of you and the clothes in the machine. 

- you pointed out that the clothes are, quite literally, drowning in water. 

- he immediately counters you - by saying that he meant the bubbles looked fun - and continues to try and convince you, saying that he’ll teach you how to surf

- .. that conversation ended with you saying maybe. 

- he cheers, and you were only able to sigh (fondly).

- he talks a lot, and you try to incorporate enough words in between your listening. 

- sometimes he doesn’t talk at all, but that’s pretty rare.

- the last time he remained silent for the entire session was when you brought your journal along for the wait.

- you had already recorded the past month’s results, and the day you set for data analysis lined up with laundry day. 

- so you brought the book with you, and you kept your eyes on the book the entire time. 

- you did the laundry with one hand, essentially. you only looked up from your book to respond to daisuke, or to check on his laundry. 

- the silence only comes to your attention at the end of your laundry session. 

- the machine often plays a tune once it’s done with it’s job - when it doesn’t, you’d slap the lid, and then it plays the song.

- and usually, it’s accompanied by daisuke’s own hum of the tune.

- at first, you didn’t even realise that he didn’t follow along with the melody. but after a moment, you felt something was off.

- your eyes flicker towards his direction, and you see him napping. 

- he’s snoozing away, hugging his own laundry basket. 

- and he looks.. peaceful.

- this wouldn’t be the first time you saw him asleep. the first time was when you brought him to his room after game night. the second time was when you spotted him on the sofa, napping the evening away on the same day swansea was sick - and this.. would be the third.

- your fingers subconsciously reach out to brush his hair back. you stopped once you realised what you were going to do - your hand inches away from his face.

- dropping your hand back onto your lap, you sigh again. it’s an action you find yourself doing more often.

- you try to focus on your research again, flicking to the next page - your eyes following the lines you’ve written before.

- so you both sit there, his soft breaths filling in the air every now and then, and the flicks of pages accompanying them right after.

- he wakes up sooner than you expected, and you briefly suffer the wrath of the sleepy daisuke.

- half-asleep gibberish about you not waiting for him, and leaving him in the laundry room alone. (while you were right there)

- it takes a few minutes before he falls back asleep, this time, on your shoulder.

- you really hoped he really would’ve truly woken up, even if it did mean sitting through more of his sleep induced rants. 

- .. now you’ll have to stay in this room, in the same position - your shoulders possibly freezing up at this rate - and .. perhaps also face swansea’s wrath later for keeping his intern for too long.

- oh well. 

- you’ll face it later. 

- for now, you’ll just continue reviewing your data… with a snoozing mechanic intern on your shoulder.

- the other day, curly went by your office. 

- it’s odd enough for him to approach you first before you call him for evaluation.

- but it wasn’t psych eval day; and you watch as he enters the medical bay warily, avoiding your gaze after a brief moment of your eyes meeting.

- you could already feel like it would be a long session. or at least, a heavy one. 

- so you place down your clipboard, and instead focus entirely on him.

- he struggles to get a word out other than “hi, sorry for bothering you, do you mind if i.. talk to you as a patient?”

- so you wait. your eyes remain glued at him, and he takes a few breaths in; then out. and it repeats, over and over again.

- the machine buzzes beneath your feet. it’s louder in the silence.

- so are your breaths. and so is his.

- and finally, the silent tempo is broken by a sigh.

“the crew is getting laid off,”

the words are spoken in a low mumble, so soft that you wouldn’t hear them if you weren’t paying attention. but you did hear anyway.

he looks visible distressed; hands messing his own hair up, his fingers fidget more, and eyebags looking heavier than usual. he refuses to look you in the eyes. 

this would be the first time you’ve seen him like this. it’s been sixteen minutes since he came in, and this was the first words that he said, aside from the greeting he gave you.

he's waiting for something. your breath faltering, or perhaps your expression dropping. you can tell by the way he looks at you. 

he seems guilty. 

“.. i just talked with jimmy. before the news, about how i felt stuck in this job.”

he takes a heavy drag of air into his lungs.

“i didn’t mean to.. i didn’t know that this would happen. he’s going to think that i had involvement in this.”

“but you know you don’t.”

your eyes continue to pick up on the little quirks on his body. his faster way of speaking - the way he tumbles over his sentences. and it also explains why he wasn’t seen at the lounge for the past couple of days.

these are behaviours that distressed individuals display. you remember this clearly in a textbook you had reviewed previously.

for the first time, in the past nineteen minutes, he looks up at you. 

“will you let his beliefs prevail over your own?”

you continue to stare at him, he stares back.

after a brief moment of strength, he seems to give up. his body falls back into himself - his body fully leaned back onto the chair.

“.. i don’t know.”

he takes another deep breath in, and you can feel your eyebrows temporarily furrow.

“his views matter to me. so does everyone else’s views. i can’t discount their thoughts about this.”

“but you can discount your own?”

your question rings in the room. this time, he doesn’t dare to hold your gaze anymore.

“you’re not at fault here. you want everyone to win in this situation, and that’s impossible.”

you tap your finger on the table, producing a stable rhythm on the table.

“there is nothing you can do to change this outcome anymore.”

you close your eyes, and your finger comes to a stop.

“...the best you could do now is to not let others write your narrative for you. help others write their own narrative as well.”

you watch as he sinks deeper into his seat.

“...you’re right.”

and this is as far as you can go. 

you can’t help with anything more as a faux therapist.

you’re not qualified for it either. the best you could do is to make him understand that it isn’t his fault, and no, he should not be carrying this burden, nor allowing people to blame him either.

you know he knows this. but does he understand it?

so all you can do is wait; wait until he does.

the blonde man lifts himself up from the seat in front of you, taking a deep breath as he walks around the medical bay.

his eyes are closed, before he attempts to harden himself again. 

he sends a smile at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“..sorry for coming out of the blue. i’m not sure what made me do that.“

he even tries to throw in a chuckle, but it just sounds dry. you send him a sour expression.

another exhale sounds in the room; and this time, the sigh didn’t come from him. 

“.. you can do this, curly. don’t doubt yourself either.”

you meet his eyes for the final time. 

this time; he’s completely defeated. no longer is he standing before you as captain, but as a man, grieving for his friends’ futures. for the stable future that they might’ve once believed in. that man sends a weak nod in your direction.

“.. i’ll try.”

the male leaves with a small thank you, and silence follows after.

your eyes are trained at the false sky as the door shuts in on itself. your calm demeanour slowly unfolds on the wooden desk, your head now buried in your arms. 

.. now that his burdens are shared with you, what should you do?

- everyone knows by now that your work with anya in the medical bay are split into two.

- anya with physical injuries, and you.. working on psych tests. 

- you don’t want to say that you work with mental injuries just yet. that’s a horrifying thought. you’re seriously not qualified yet.

- hell, you probably didn’t give proper treatment towards curly that other time.. you don't think you're quite ready to become a therapist yet. that's one thing you've learnt in this internship.

- but point is, you’ve barely dealt with physical injuries prior to this.

- why are you bringing this up? well..

- anya got sick.

- it’s a fever and flu of some sort. you say it’s the airconditioning in her room, and she denies it - saying that it was fine last night. 

- then you suggest that it might be her habit of waking up way too early, and this time, she agrees that it could’ve been what played part in making her sick.

- she laughs when you sigh; mostly due to the fact that she knew you were joking.

- you’ve been helping her do mundane stuff. examples were.. bringing a basin of water of warm water and a small towel for baths, medicine and food prepared for her, and making sure she gets enough entertainment whilst also making sure she slept enough.

- you would really prefer if you could’ve just cared for her in her room…

- but she refused - and instead, remains at the medical bay. she wants to be prepared if anyone’s injured, she says, while she looks like she's dying. (you’re exaggerating)

- but since that’s the only way she would allow you to help her, you comply.

- she often sleeps hunched over the desk. that’s why you brought one of the pillows from the lounge to her. 

- she seemed concerned once she saw the pillow, and you get why - safety reasons, germs, etc. - but you promised that you would wash the entire pillow after it gets in and out of the medical bay.

- having a sibling-like relationship with anya meant that she kept you close enough to watch over you, but not close enough to know her.

- only throughout the course of nursing her back to health, do you get to hear more about her life.

- she wanted to pursue nursing due to her mother’s poor health throughout her entire life. 

- her father was the only source of income, and almost saw his wife as a burden.

- living with her older and younger sisters, she had tried to make sure that the two were alright as well, whilst taking care of her mother. this managed to affect her grades.

- miraculously, her mother’s condition got better after some time, and the burden on her older sister’s duties got better.

- but this meant arguments got worse. so she left, leaving her younger sister in her older sister’s care. 

- she promised to take care of her mother when she got older. but after a year she left home, her mother tragically died due to a heart attack.

- that’s how she told you that she never had anyone to care for her like this, ever since she moved and got a job in the city.

- before you knew it, you had something in your eye.

“..are you crying?”

you sniffle, looking away from her - a poor attempt of hiding away your .. emotional state.

“.. no.”

your voice gives it away. damnit.

- she only laughs at your attempts, before convincing you that it was alright now. she’s still alive. and you can only cry more.

- you compose yourself, before handing her another cup of water, and a replacement towel for her forehead. 

- she thanks you quite a lot during the entirety of it. you try to assure that she was welcome to ask for your help.

- but when swansea comes in with a particularly nasty cut - daisuke trailing behind the old man, panicking - you nearly panic as well.

- you try your best to stay calm, following what you’ve learnt from your mentor.

- disinfectant. don’t touch the wound with alcohol. clean the surroundings, and then secure the wrap with bandages. make sure that you handle it properly. 

- before you knew it, you were done.

- it’s not as good as anya’s, but you think you did well with the bandages. 

- swansea thanks you, and daisuke gives you two thumbs ups. it’s hard to not reciprocate his energy, so you give him one as well.

- anya, on the other hand, stares at you wide-eyed. 

you tilt your head at her expression.

“.. did i do something wrong?”

her expression doesn’t look like a dangerous expression - just more towards shock, and perhaps, something else.

“i didn’t know you improved so much..”

ah. she still remembers, it seems..

at the first day, she asked how much knowledge you had about first aid. and you responded by showing her what you’d do when you had a cut. it’s safe to say that you made.. leaps of improvement. 

“yeah. i’ve been paying close attention to you.”

you watch as she realises what she did.

“i.. taught you that..”

you nod in response.

“yeah. you did.”

she smiles at you, and now, it was her who had tears in her eyes.

- you tried your best to comfort her after that. 

- you used your newfound knowledge - that she likes tea - and brought her a cup.

- perhaps, due to the exhaustion, she immediately went to sleep an hour after she downed the tea.

- you made sure she was alright, before continuing your writing on the journal.

- you were informed of a communal birthday party (how cheap is the pony express?), and this time, you were celebrating curly's birthday. 

- everyone's wearing party hats - striped yellow and red, the same colours of your uniform.

- you’re seriously getting sick of seeing it.

- not sure why no one bothered observing and memorising the codes. but you did. and so, you baked the cake beforehand.

- daisuke practically wails at you, asking why you never told him that you knew the pass to the sweetener all this time. basically, putting on a dramatic show.

- you stare back at him, deadpan. the both of you know why you didn’t reveal it to him.

- he only grins once he got caught. you sigh.

- so, that didn’t go well.

- you surprised curly, but it seems like today was the day he decided to break the news to the members about the disbandment. he was told to wait until you were closer to the destination of the delivery but..

- you suppose this would be the best outcome, if you only had curly’s emotional state in mind.

- swansea makes a bitter joke, anya looks increasingly worried, and daisuke’s silent, unable to say anything in this situation.

- and jimmy…

“..so i guess you got what you wanted.”

jimmy laughs bitterly, his hands on the table.

“without the guilt.”

you watch as curly attempts to explain himself.

“jim.. if i had known..”

a poor explanation it was. you could only watch as the brown-haired man grows more agitated.

“i can go back to my, how’d you put it? “struggle of a life?””

the room is slowly growing more heavy at his words. 

he’s clearly talking about a previous conversation with curly. but at the same time.. he’s wording it particularly. sure, you weren’t there when the conversation happened, but you think you get the gist of what jimmy’s trying to do at the moment - and it’s starting to affect others in the room as well.

“sounds like you’re blaming him for this, jimmy.”

so you try to diffuse whatever he’s planning.

his furrowed eyes snap at you, and he immediately explodes.

“what would you fucking know, huh?”

his hands slam at the table, shaking the cutlery on the surface, and it becomes evident that he doesn’t care about the things that could break at this very moment. he’s only interested in expressing his own anger.

so, you conclude that you were right. he’s releasing his anger by picking arguments, instead of thinking rationally, disregarding curly’s emotion, and how it might cause misunderstandings.

you should’ve expected this much from him.

you decide to retort, tone calm as you speak.

“i know that this should be blamed on management. not the man whose a small cog in the machine right now.”

he only looks angrier after being presented with sound logic.

“oh, please, cut your poetic crap. you come out of this unscathed. you don’t have any rights to talk.”

at this point, you’re just more tired than confused. 

“and you have the right to blame someone that isn’t at fault? who gave you the right to do that?”

you slowly unfold your arms, staring at him, before scanning at the others.

they all have different expressions, and you could feel how heavy the atmosphere is. to think that someone like him could cause this much trouble.. 

you look at the perpetrator one last time, as you add in a final comment.

“stop trying to twist reality to your own narrative.”

with that, you could see him seething in his seat. 

his eyes are sharp on you, and you’d continue this little staring competition if you were any less sane. so for now, you place your party hat down on the table, and remove yourself from the conversation.

“i think everyone needs time to process this. so i’ll leave first. goodnight.”

those were your final words, before you stood up from your chair, and left the table.

- after you left, daisuke followed after. then anya, and then swansea.

- everyone’s hat remains at the table, either upright or simply discarded on the wooden surface.

- safe to say, you all agreed that time was the solution for the short while, and you can’t be more proud of them for having some sort of sanity - unlike a certain brunette. 

- but you could only watch as the door closes on you, with curly and jimmy sitting alone on the table.

- you just hope he doesn’t dig a deeper hole for himself. it would make your efforts of redirecting his anger towards you pointless.

- alas, you don’t have power over him.

- you can lead someone to water, but you can’t make them drink, after all.

i did NOT proofread this. oh man. ill edit it later on.. perhaps...maybe.

i also did not know what possessed me when i was writing this. jimmy feels really ooc but maybe it's because no one has tried to put that man in his place LOL.. only swansea did at the end (by attempting to kill him. valid btw)

hopefully i managed to flesh out each character's relationship with reader enough in this chapter .. i didn't get to write swansea in but tried my best to slip him in the details.. will focus on it next chap!

thank you so much for the support for this as well! i appreciate it tons!

extra notes: i'd like to think that the cake was stored in the fridge.. and eaten the next morning (although with a somber mood)

sun & moon dividers by : @/saradika daytime screen & medical bay from mouthwashing

[the-gay-trashmouth]

Hi I would like to address these tags! Obviously no hate to you, I get what you mean, I just wanted to respond! Because I definitely don't hate Curly or think he's fully responsible for Jimmy's actions, but I do hold him in higher standing than Swansea in terms of responsibility.

As the captain, he had the most power in the situation and he had a lot more resources to use after he finds out what Jimmy did before the crash. even after Jimmy says to his face he could "crash the ship and they'd be remembered as heros" after Anya tells Jimmy she's pregnant, he does nothing to stop him from going into the cockpit. It's not until the sirens are going that he runs back to see Jimmy on the ground outside the door. Jimmy was literally telling him to his face that he would rather die than see consequences, but Curly doesn't take it seriously and let's him just. Go?

I definitely see how I could be interrupting Swansea too charitably.The idea of him protecting the only other entrance to medbay is more of a speculation than canon, and I definitely acknowledge that he could very well have seen it as "none of his business" until Daisuke died, or he didn't want to ruin his chances of getting Daisuke off the ship by pissing off Jimbob, but either way, he was just the ship's mechanic. He couldn't demote Jimmy, or open anything that needed that captain's scanner or security codes. He didn't even know what Jimmy did until After the crash. By then, all he had was the utility closet, an axe, and the one cryopod, and he made sure Jimmy didn't know about it for months. I think there's enough in the game to point either way in terms of how much he tries to help Anya, but in terms of resources, power, and time, Curly had the most opportunities to do something and yet sat back and let Jimmy continue to do whatever. Not without guilt, mind you, and not without a genuine attempt to make sure it all worked out, but he still let Jimmy continue on like nothing happened.

As for the company docking their pay, I also mentioned this as Curly being specifically incentivized not to do anything, but I don't think that excuses his actions. They might get their pay docked, but Anya has to live with her rapist in a ship with no locks on the sleeping quarters. I understand fearing consequences, but that's just ignoring her safety for his (and the rest of the crews) own monetary gain, which I don't see as a point in his favor but it does add more nuance to his decision.

My ending point (which came way late in the post, it was just me rambling for a while) was that while both Swansea and Curly do what they think is best, it's too little and too late. Curly thought keeping the peace would fix it, Swansea thought hiding things and just keeping out of the way would help fix it, neither of them took real direct action that would have stopped Jimmy. But even despite that, in real situations of abuse, there often isn't a "right" answer, and it's understandable when they get stuck in place trying to figure out which way to go. There was no way to guarantee Jimmy wouldn't have gone off the handle earlier if confronted. Like I said, what happened was no one's fault but Jimmy's, and on a larger scale, The Pony Express, due to multiple ways they fail Anya and incentivize coverups, but Curly, as captain, had a responsibility to protect his crew, but he chose to see the best in Jimmy, and he didn't take him seriously when Jimmy tells him Exactly who he is. Until he's forced to.

I think something that's bothers me about how folks talk about mouthwashing is how they talk about Swansea. It's either "Swansea would have killed Jimmy immediately if Anya had told him" or "he knew and he did nothing just like curly." because, to me at least it leaves out a lot of nuance to his character and situation. Curly and Swansea are really good foils to each other, one who's got a reputation for being the kind and helpful captain but in the end does nothing to truly protect the crew from Jimmy, and one who's gruff, harsh, and cruel but genuinely tries to help in the background, the reliable mechanic.

(read more for a long Mouthwashing character ramble tw for unwanted pregnancy and SA)

Because Curly is the one with the power. He doesn't take what Jimmy did seriously enough. And you can say that he might not have known fully what Jimmy did, but I think the "I told you" pregnancy conversation and his reaction to Jimmy right before the crash ("come on we'll get through this together. We'll figure it out, you've had hard times before-") are indicators that he knew, but he still chose to stick by his friend and treat it like a "mistake" rather than what it really was.

Now that's my own personal speculation of course, there's no outright scene of her telling him "your best friend assaulted me", but I think there's enough evidence in game through Anya and Curlys interactions to say that he knew, and he knew before Anaya knew she was pregnant. He had a fully functioning ship and four fully functional cryo-pods. He could have at least given Anya more security, kept her far away from him, and at most forced him into the cryopod until they got back to earth. Jimmy STILL had full, uncontrolled access to the cockpit AFTER his freakout with curly. AFTER Anya tells curly she doesn't feel safe with him. AFTER Curly finds out he raped Anya. He's so focused on seeing the good in his friend that he does NOTHING to protect Anya, doesn't strip away not one of Jimmy powers as copilot and consequently endangers her and the rest of the crew.

Curly was the captain, he had the power to relegate Jimmy to the fucking storage closet if he really wanted, at least put him in the cryopod until they got back to earth. In fact, he was the only person above Jimmy in terms of rank on the ship, but he chose to do nothing. He chose to let Jimmy continue as acting co-pilot, chose to comfort him rather than actually confront him. Slides off his weird sexual comments as jokes "So what's this about horses?"

Now let's compare that to Swansea, the mechanic.

We don't have any evidence that Swansea knew about what Jimmy did until after the crash ("it's been her telling me things") where they were trapped with no captain, barely any rations, and a single cryopod that he kept hidden away in the one room he had the key too (and the only room that could lead into medbay). He didn't use it for himself, he makes it clear he didn't intend on getting off this hunk of metal in his last few conversations with Jimmy.

Swansea as the ship's mechanic, was used to fixing things in the background. He didn't need to get along with anyone to keep the ship running, he didn't need people to like him to keep them safe. We see that with Daisuke. He's harsh on him, for sure, but he leaves constant notes to help him learn. Genuinely tries to keep him out of harm's way when it comes to more dangerous jobs. We know Anya was scared of Jimmy getting a weapon, she hid the gun case in the medical bay even knowing she would never get it open. We can see Swansea and Anya off on their own towards the first days after the crash, and Swansea still has a tight grip of the axe weeks and months later.

I personally think that was him trying to keep Jimmy from having access to a weapon. The only time Jimmy gets the axe while Swansea is alive is when Anya Specifically asks him to use it to get medical supplies. I don't think that's a coincidence.

Swansea, like any good mechanic, was quietly trying to keep things running out of Jimmy's sight. It's not until everyone is dead or dying that he snaps, that he finally takes direct action. But it was too little too late.

Both Curly and Swansea thought they were doing the right thing, helping in their own way. Curly genuinely wanted to see the good in Jimmy, wanted it to just be some challenge they could overcome, but in doing so he failed to see the monster right in front of him. He had all the power (in context of the crew, the company is a whole other can of worms I have so many other thoughts on), but he was too afraid to use it. Hell, he was DISCOURAGED to use it if the memo about HR complaints are anything to go by. Swansea, on the other hand, never trusted Jimmy, never even really liked him, but he didn't want to make anything worse either. He didn't know what would actually set Jimmy off, or what he was capable of, and aside from just straight up killing him what else could he do that wouldn't just push Jimmy further off the edge? Like with the foam. "One wrong move and you'll rip this ship a new asshole", he worked carefully, hiding the last pod from Jimmy, keeping the only other weapon on himself, guarding the only other entrance into Medbay, but Jimmy was escalating quickly. He underestimated how far Jimmy was willing to go, just like Curly had, and in the end suffered the consequences.

The only character who actually understood how dangerous and unstable Jimmy was is Anya. She knew the moment she found out she was pregnant he would hurt her ("you won't let me protect myself"). He wouldn't be able to take it, he would do something drastic. She knew he was escalating the longer they were stranded. Anya is the only crew member who truly understood how dangerous Jimmy was and took direct action.

And interesting thing to me is that she doesn't just kill herself. She locks herself in the medbay. She could have waited for Jimmy to sleep, or locked herself in the cockpit, but she locked herself in the medbay with Curly. She knows that with her gone there would be no one left to take care of him, she knew Jimmy would continue to escalate his abuse, and with her gone all of his anger and fear and guilt would turn on Curly.

And wouldn't you know it? She was right. Without Anya to stop him, he takes curly out of the bed, forces him upright into the cryopod, and forces a man with no skin, no arms, no legs, and infected tissues to be frozen for 20 years while the rest of his crew Rot. And that's only what we know to be reality- if any of his delusions had some basis in reality he could have done so so much more. Anya is the Only one to take reasonable, direct action to keep herself, and then Curly, safe.

But she didn't have enough power over Jimmy to truly protect herself. She didn't have the code to the gun case, she didn't have a weapon or a rank to fall back on. She was outnumbered by men who she knew from experience either wouldn't or couldn't keep her safe, and she was heavily pregnant with a baby she didn't want and most likely couldn't even get enough nutrients to sustain either her or the fetus. She was physically weakened and trapped in a stranded ship with her abuser with no way home and a medical miracle (curse) in Curly.

This game is a really good reflection of reality, in my opinion as an abuse survivor. Some people will see them as "one of the boys" and constantly excuse or downplay their actions (Curly), some people will do small things in the background, recognize the abuse and disprove, but don't want to get in the way or make things worse (Swansea), and some people are just straight up oblivious/naive (Daisuke). But in the end, it's the system that allows abuse and incentives coverups to keep peace or save face that really allows abuse to fester and escalate.

Which is why I personally have a problem with the idea that Anya should have just Told A Different Man because it ignores the very real chain of power and her own agency in her story, AS WELL AS the idea that Swansea and Diasuke knew but didn't care because that's just not reflective of real life. Not every man is some rapist apologist who doesn't care what abusers do until it happens to them, some people just don't know what to do, or don't have any good options that wouldn't result in further abuse. Hell some people just don't even fucking notice! Not everyone has had exposure to the signs or knows what to look for.

It's easy when looking at fictional depictions of abuse to say "well if I was there I would have just punched him/killed him/called the police" but real life, in that moment, its never going to be clear cut. You can call out abuse, but that might just lead to that abuser taking it out on their abuse victim later. They could even start to target you for daring to speak out, or try to hurt you and cut you off from the person being abused. You can know all the right steps and the right programs, but in the moment, when faced with a real situation where someone could get hurt or even killed? You stumble. You think things over, you don't try and make any direct moves that would set their abusers off. Sometimes that's a good instinct, and sometimes that just lets abuse escalate. It's never a good situation, and it's never actually anyone's fault but the abusers. And this way of thinking also conveniently leaves out the survivor of this abuse, and portrays them as someone who needs to be saved, rather than someone who needs support and resources to save themselves. It also very conveniently lets the company that Put Anya in this situation in the first place get off Scott free.

The solution isn't "oh one of the men on board should have personally killed Jimbo and saved Anya all by himself" its "Anya deserved the support of her crewmates instead of being forced into close proximity with her rapist and also maybe Jimmy shouldn't have access to the fucking controls or medbay or any weapons- AND ALSO the crew shouldn't have financial incentives not to report things to HR"

[blacklitchick]

Found a WIP from 2017 that I abandoned. Don't quite remember where I was going with this, but I kinda love this excerpt:

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Waking up alone was hard to get used to.

The quiet in the mornings was the hardest to get used to.

Summer mornings were always Michonne’s favorite - sleeping with the windows open as warm Virginia breeze ruffled the curtains, and the sun kissed their naked skin - his arm around her waist, the deep breathing of his slumber in her ear. Sunrise was always before 7:00 am. Michonne could tell you the exact time because she was usually awake watching the shadows in the bedroom turn to light. In her old life, she’d be up before the first hint of rays crept into the sky. Eagerness to start her day made lingering in bed hardly ever an option.

Having children further cemented her desire to rise early. Only one person could convince her to have a lazy morning in bed. Her husband was more persuasive than any lawyer she ever faced in court; five more minutes turned into fifteen and then an hour. Michonne’s lips upturned into a sad smile. His kissable pout was hard to resist. She ran her hand over his cool, empty side of the bed. There was no need to convince her to stay in bed that morning. The day had been in the planning stages for weeks. Now that it was here, the dread had settled in her stomach. Hiding away rather than dealing with the warring emotions in her heart sounded like the better option - though not viable. It couldn’t be done without her. The thin sheet fell to the side as she sat up. One more look was given to his side of the bed before she swung her feet to the floor.

Age hadn’t taken away her spryness. Her body was nearly as lean and muscled as it was when their family first walked through the gates of Alexandria twenty years earlier. Her perfect complexion was still wrinkle-free. Rick’s favorite morning routine was to kiss every inch of her body to bask in the smoothness of her skin. His chuckle would vibrate through her body when she parroted her grandmother’s words, Black don’t crack. The bags under each eye were a new development. Tears mixed with lack of sleep had taken a toll. Avoiding the shock of grief from waking up alone was preferable to any rest she may have needed.

Their shower was the smallest in the house, but the two always fit in there with no room to spare. He never let too much space get in between their bodies. But now it felt too big for one person. The warm water felt good against her skin but did nothing to wash away the ache in her heart. It was always here when she let herself cry - big, ugly sobs from deep in her gut. Her body would slide to the floor as trembles shook her to the core. She hugged her knees until the water pouring from above turned cold. She wouldn’t let her pain manifest any other time of the day. The grief in the house wasn’t hers alone. There were others she needed to be strong for.

Between the crying and the steam, her eyes were a light hue of red. She rinsed her face with cold water, trying to fade the color back to white. After patting her face dry, she slid off her multi-colored scarf. The hair underneath was arranged in neat twists. Over the years, she’d cut and grew her locs back twice. Now, she wore her natural hair in a simple afro puff.

Rick always told her she could make any color look good, but yellow was his favorite. She’d slipped on a sunny wrap skirt and paired it with a white tank top. Fully dressed, she sat at the foot of the bed and breathed in and out.

[verdantmeadows]

Watched a video where they basically said "marketing towards nostalgia doesn't work in anime/nostalgia pandering isn't a thing for anime" I want you to tell me some of the most popular anime in the past few years and take a shot every single time one of them is a reboot or related to a classic old series.

Trigun Stampede. Fruits Basket. Tokyo Mew Mew. Yashahime. Rurouni Kenshin. Urusei Yatsura. Shaman King. Devilman Crybaby. Dororo. Sailor Moon Crystal. Kino's Journey. THEY'RE EVEN REBOOTING BLACK BUTLER!!!!

That's just off the top of my head. Listing MORE RECENT THINGS. Anime reboots have often always been super popular and done super well. You know. Hunter x Hunter. Jojo's Bizarre Adventure. Hellsing Ultimate. Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood.

Like, anime absolutely does nostalgia marketing and rebooting anime has been more popular than ever. I do think that a large part of this is because reusing old IPs is easier and less risky when it comes to making profits, but also because there are a lot of really good older anime or older manga that had an anime adaptation that wasn't as good as it could have been, or didn't get finished!

Oftentimes, anime is used as an advertisement for the manga, so if manga sales are good enough after a season, they won't always renew it for another. But I think that's been changing in the anime scene for the past few years. Anime is often continued because the audience enjoys the anime, and it isn't just based off of being an advertisement for the manga. Reboots for series like Fruits Basket allows the entirety of the manga be told as a beautiful animation (the original anime didn't cover the whole series) and introduce classic animanga stories to newer audiences.

I absolutely do want more new stories, but I feel like that's still happening in anime, whereas other mainstream media formats in other countries (such as movies in the USA) are primarily reboots or sequels and squashing out the chances for newer original works or series. I think that, as of right now, there has been a really good balance of reboots or related to reboots to original series. And that makes me really happy! I hope that doesn't change, because I don't think reboots are inherently wrong, and are often beautiful and give classics a chance to be revived and reimagined.

Regardless, my point is that nostalgia absolutely is a huge factor in anime, and it's kind of ignorant of the state of anime to say that "nostalgia marketing isn't a thing" for anime/animanga. Because it is. It's an incredibly huge thing for it, actually.

[elusiveveil]

“I could say the same for you Xavier.” She took a hold of his hand and got to her feet, the sleepiness leaving her body for the moment.

“Would you refuse if I said I insist though? You did say you were indebted to me earlier.” She said as she feigned a pout, crossing her arms for a bit of an enhanced effect, yet purely just for amusement. Checking her phone, she checked the bus routes to see if her bus was still running. And as luck would have it, the last bus already left. Which meant her usual 5-10 minute commute would take around 20 minutes to walk home.

“Uh, actually my bus just passed us. I gotta walk it from here. But I’d love for you to walk me home, if you’re ok with it that is.” As they made their way en route to her apartment, she instinctively stayed close to him, clinging onto his arm as an added measure. This route wasn’t dangerous, per se, but she did run into the usual guys who were trying to pick her up when all she wanted to do was just go home and relax. “I finished for the week, Friday and the weekend are my off days. I can sleep in for once.” A smile crept onto her lips as the realization of not waking up so early was starting to sink in. “I hope you don’t mind me holding onto you like this though. I feel safer this way.” Whoever it was that led her to meet him, she sent a silent prayer of thanks. She felt like she was truly in the presence of a prince in that moment of time.

{Closed with @elusiveveil}

It's not often that Xavier is on this part of town. In fact, he'd fallen asleep and missed his regular bus stop.

Linkon's transport system was elaborate, he knew it'd be better to get off and catch an alternate route rather than wait for the bus to loop back around. Thus, he strode through the urban area, still in uniform, and waited at a stop sign crosswalk. The light was taking a while. Just for a moment he thought he could close his eyes again, if only for 30 more seconds...

[a-s-levynn]

[moeblob]

You know, when I kept getting asked "so you didn't ever have severe pains before now?" in the hospital and I kept replying "I have a high pain tolerance" I meant it. However, there is only so much pain my tiny 4'9" body can hold... (aka I am sweating and in agony bc I'm getting told to use LESS severe pain meds so I don't rely on them too much and it is AWFUL)

[kimetsu-chan]

I’m gonna be out most of the day bc I’ll be helping my dad with a big shopping trip plus being out after, so I’m going to be super duper exhausted

I don’t do well in crowded or loud places in the slightest, I get woozy and tired and I feel miserable or like I’m gonna pass out, and if the shopping isn’t gonna make me wanna cry, the outing after will bc it’s gonna be packed with lots of noise and people

I don’t say this because I want to complain, I just wanna give a super quick warning that I might not be active tomorrow as well as today bc when I get exhausted, my mental health tends to decline as well ;-;

so- a bit of a warning that I may poof a bit (sorry! 😣)

[cent-scratchnsniff]

progressing through the myth of sisyphus again