#Nikki’s Weekend | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imhereformysciencefriends · 6 months

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@mcyt-yuri-week Day 6: Sleep!

You know I had to go for that good good puffychu angst. Read on AO3 here

Things were different now. Things were different here. Niki didn’t need to fear sleep, here, because the nightmares would all but certainly leave her alone. Right? She no longer barred herself in her room, no longer woke up in places entirely separate from where she’d put her head down. She didn’t wake to sores and scratches, to bruises where she’d flung herself against the iron.

Niki didn’t—she was better. She was supposed to be better. She wasn’t alone in her cavernous, empty city anymore. She had a little cottage in a little circle in a snowy glade out with her friends. She wasn’t the same naive girl who followed, wide and star-eyed, after a boy with big dreams and bigger betrayals. She wasn’t the same embittered wraith that burned down the symbol of her own heart and locked herself away in stone walls, metaphorical and literal.

She was a woman, a little rough and a little soft, bread burnt on the outside but still doughy in the center. But she was here, and she was fine, and she shouldn’t have trouble with sleep, still.

Some weeks were worse than others. Some weeks were better.

Sometimes, she was bundled up in a blanket on Technoblade’s floor, back pressed against Steve’s flank and any number of wolfdogs clamoring for the prized spot of resting on her lap. Sometimes, she was on Phil’s couch, mug of tea in hand and mechanical bits and bobs slowly overtaking his floor, chatting while he worked late into the night. Sometimes she was huddled together with Connor and Ranboo in Ranboo’s living room, spitballing and discussing the absolute worst pranks known to human or hybrid-kind until they nodded off one by one. Sometimes, she was in Puffy’s new place, fresh built walls and a fresh-woven blanket draped over her when she woke in the same chair she’d fallen asleep in.

And some nights, she went about her day, and fell asleep in her own bed as thoughtlessly as she brushed her teeth or washed her hair.

But some nights, she laid in that bed and stared at her black ceiling, dark and safe without monsters nearby, lanternlight flickering weakly in through her windows. And stared. And stared. And stared. For hours. She’d toss and she’d turn, maybe, but mostly she just stared, sleep nearby but refusing to visit her.

But some nights, she’d go out mob hunting, justifying that they always needed bones for bonemeal, always needed arrows for the unenchanted bows, always needed rotten flesh to butcher for the dogs and bears and foxes, always needed spider silk for its many uses and gunpowder for—

And she’d go logging, after, because their woodfires were ever burning, and who didn’t always need more wood? Go mining, sometimes, because it was a Player’s code to mine and hey, they could always use more stone. Well, that wasn’t true. But coal! Coal was plentiful in uses, and iron, and gold, and lapis when she dug that far. Even got herself a few diamonds doing it.

And she’d glance at her cute little cottage she’d built herself and the dark, warm little bedroom upstairs and she knew the bed was in it but she couldn’t go to it, she went out to work in their greenhouse for a little late night gardening or wandered over to the village to get the best early morning deals or hell, she even went fishing some nights because hey, all resources are good resources, and while steak was filling the same taste over and over and over again got a little boring!

Some nights, she picked up a boat, picked a direction, and just rowed.

Probably for the best, when she did that. Made it so the phantoms wouldn’t haunt the commune. So that nobody else would know—

Except they did. They all did. Even Connor knew, and Connor didn’t know fuckall about anything. No, no, that was rude, he was–he was fine. Niki was the one with the issues. Niki was the one with dark shadows under her eyes, with a pinched face, legs and arms that moved too slow, an attention span that kept wandering. Niki was the one with a waning appetite and flickers in the corner of her vision.

She needed to sleep. It was factual. It was a basic bodily function that all people did and needed. If she kept going like this she was going to be too shaky to aim right at the phantoms. She could get really hurt. And then her friends would worry, and yeah it was a nice thought that they’d do that for her, but far more pressing was that Niki could not, under any circumstances, inconvenience them more than she already did with the mere fact of her existence.

But every time she thought about the bed in the dark in her room she got—

Maybe, maybe she’d—but then they’d ask questions and Niki didn’t have answers. Well, she had the answers, but she didn’t want to share them. Probably. Who knew! God, it was like she was back down there again, back alone in her underground city with room for everyone she’d ever loved and not a single soul to visit her.

“Hey Niki!” Puffy called brightly, startling her into a jump.

“Puffy,” she said, and she couldn’t quite stop the way her voice came out a little forlorn, a little wistful. “Hey, how are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” she said, her fluffy woolen hair stuffed into the neckline of her coat and making for a fashionable, natural scarf in the winter weather. The velvety insides of her ears were pinked, though, and Niki felt the absurd urge to reach out and warm them up between her palms.

The two had quit dating a while ago. Move on.

“I was wondering if you were up to anything tonight?” Puffy asked, and Niki hesitated.

Because, no, she didn’t have plans. Other than avoiding her bed and the phantoms in equal measure. On the other hand, this very much sounded like an invitation, and a roof could keep the phantoms quiet as they stalked and waited for her to exit, but if Puffy wanted to do something together after nightfall, it’d become clear as blades that Niki had something wrong with her.

“Why do you ask?” she hedged, trying to soften the shape of her words enough to make up for how rude she was being.

“I was wondering if you wanted to do a hot chocolate and book reading night with me!” Puffy said, like this was some sort of commonplace convention and not something she’d just made up. Niki couldn’t stop the giggle. Puffy was always like that, brash and bold and striding forward in a straight line. It made the way Niki cringed in the shadows feel all the more sickly, but she couldn’t help but grasp after that brilliant light that fell off of Puffy wherever she walked.

“That sounds really nice,” she said, more genuinely than she thought it’d come out. Already she could feel her shoulders relaxing, the way her body curled towards the little sheep woman like pins rolling across a desk towards a magnet.

“Sweet!” Puffy said, removing one mittened hand from her coat pocket to grasp Niki’s own, dragging her across the commune to where her nice, neat little house now stood.

Ridiculously, Niki felt the urge to surround Puffy’s house with flowers, reminisce about the store they’d run together—

Stop. They were friends. Nothing more, probably not anything less. Between the Egg and the Syndicate and the nuke that almost went off, their romance had gotten shot so dead, Niki wasn’t sure it could be revived. But the nice thing about a blank slate was they could write whatever they wanted on it, and maybe Niki could do it right this time. She could start by not feeling ridiculous feelings every time she and her friend hung out.

Inside, Puffy stomped snow off her hooves and trotted over to throw another log on the fire before stripping out of her gloves, hat, and coat. Niki hung her own winter wear over the back of a chair, stomping snow off but leaving her boots on. Since Puffy didn’t wear boots to take off, her floor had a tendency of collecting dirt and grime, so Niki figured 1. she wouldn’t mind it, and 2. it’d be wiser for her poor human feet.

“I’ll get started on the cocoa,” Puffy said with a bright smile, making her way towards the small, already-growing-cluttered kitchen. A dishmaid, Puffy was not. “You go find something that’d be fun for us to read!”

“So, what, we’re just reading to each other tonight?”

“Yup!”

Niki laughed softly and examined Puffy’s bookshelves. She only had the two, a modest selection on them, and mostly nautically themed. She saw a copy of one of Techno’s favorite anthologies, probably “loaned” to her from Connor, who had gotten it from Niki, who had borrowed it from Ranboo, who’d been lent it by Phil off of Techno’s shelf. It never left the commune, so Techno didn’t really mind, but he did make a great huff about it at Phil from time to time.

“Have you had a chance to get through this at all?” Niki asked, lifting the anthology from the shelf and holding it up where Puffy could see. Puffy glanced at it over her shoulder, then resumed stirring the cacao powder into milk and sugar on the stove.

“I haven’t, actually! That’s a great idea, we could pass it back and forth between us that way.”

Niki tucked the book under her armpit and leaned against the doorframe near the stairs. Upstairs was the bedroom, down here was the livingroom, bathroom, and kitchen. It wasn’t a particularly large house, though Puffy had never claimed herself a builder. It was cute, though, and despite its newness, felt lived in. Less lonely than the little cottage and the little bed waiting back for Niki.

Her head tapped against the wooden frame and Niki realized that she was nodding off while standing there. Shit. Get it together, or Puffy’ll notice. She’d been spacing out, too, oh no, what if Puffy had said something to her? She didn’t mean to come off like she’d been ignoring her—and she was far too awkward to ask.

Puffy poured the hot chocolate into two mugs and scooped them up with careful bravado. “Alright! So, I know I keep my place colder than you non-woolen folks tend to like: do you wanna do this on my bed? That way we can huddle under a blanket together.”

There was something to Puffy’s cadence that seemed almost practiced, but Niki mentally waved it off as her being tired. Part of her wanted to make a joke about Puffy inviting her into her bed, but she wasn’t sure enough of their relationship to know that it’d be well received.

“Blankets sound nice.” She’d have to be particularly mindful not to nod off in Puffy’s bed. This was just… two friends hanging out. Gals being pals. Puffy insisting on yet another weird social get together, like eating meat so spicy it makes people cry, or like the punch bowl at the banquet—

“Let’s go,” Niki said, turning and leading the way up the stairs. Cutting that line of thought off right quick. Puffy’s hooves trotted up the stairs behind her, and Niki took in the little bedroom as she rounded the bed at its center. It was cute. About what Niki might’ve expected, if she’d expected anything. A picture of Foolish, Michelle, Foolish Jr., and Finnley was displayed proudly on the nightstand next to a small lamp. A chest that looked like it could’ve come straight out of a children’s book about pirates sat beneath the windowsill, the sleeve of something sticking out from the closed mouth. The little potted flower Ranboo had given Puffy as a welcome gift sat neatly on the sill, and strings of sea glass hung from the top of the window. Niki was sure they would’ve glinted nicely in the sunlight. A second nightstand had a scattered assortment of earrings and necklaces, which Puffy shoved out of the way before setting a mug of cocoa down, and handed Niki the other, which she set carefully next to the framed photo.

Puffy then corralled Niki onto the bed, pulling up the big, soft, quilted duvet up around their shoulders and Niki happily tucked herself in.

“Oh, shoot, you’ve got feet,” Puffy mentioned, setting her mug right back down and hopping off the bed. Out of the chest, she pulled a second blanket, and tossed that over Niki’s lap. “Sorry. Hooves, you know, I forget.”

“I didn’t mind,” Niki said, but couldn’t deny: this was cozy as hell.

“You wanna read the first one, or should I?” Puffy asked, and Niki smiled over the rim of her mug.

“I can,” she said. The cocoa was still a little hot for her tongue, anyway. Puffy cuddled up next to her and Niki only blushed a little.

Some chunk wedged inside her heart tugged loose, and Niki could feel tension bleed out of her like a bottle uncorked. She leaned her head on top of Puffy’s, careful not to get a horn to the face, and read the now-familiar tale of Apollo and Artemis’s births. The cocoa held in Puffy’s hands wafted sweetly, filling the space with soft scent, and Puffy was a warm little furnace against her side, heat trapped beneath the two blankets and pillows at her back. It was with some reluctance that Niki handed the book over to Puffy, but her own mug was cooled enough now, and Niki did admittedly want to take a sip herself.

It was with Herculean effort that Niki kept her eyes open during the tale of Narcissus and Echo, Puffy’s voice even and steady and warm. Niki found her mind wandering to how nice it was. She must’ve had plenty of practice reading to her kids and grandkids. Niki didn’t catch much of the story itself, admittedly, but she’d read it before, herself. She knew how it went. Far more captivating was the warm mug cradled between her palms and the warm line of the woman against her.

Niki finished off her mug before setting it down, and mercifully perked up a bit when it was her turn to read.

Mnnmgn, the words on the page were a little fuzzy, but Niki just read slowly and tried not to yawn. Despite reading the tale of Kronos out loud, by the time she reached the end of the story, she couldn’t have told you what it was about.

She’d slouched a bit, without realizing it. She slouched further now, Puffy shifting next to her as well, getting comfy. They were propped up against the pillows, but only barely might’ve been considered upright. Instead of leaning against the top of Puffy’s head, Niki now found herself pillowed against Puffy’s shoulder. And when had she gotten there? She should sit up straighter, like this she was going to…

Fall asleep.

Niki found herself, shock of all shocks, in a very pleasant dream. No iron bars or burning cities or ghosts of men she’d trusted, she was on an adventure of some sort, wild but safe and happy. She was in the middle of locating a geode when she was thrust suddenly back into the realm of the waking, the shoulder she’d been so warmly pillowed against yanking upwards.

Niki let out some undignified noise and flailed, briefly, but even over her own sounds she could hear the gasp wrenching out of Puffy.

“Puffy?” she asked, bleary and disconcerted.

“Fuck,” she heard Puffy say, quiet, just a breath. Then Puffy was untangling herself from the blankets, and in the moonlight from the window and the soft glow of a sea-lantern nightlight by the stairs Niki saw—she was shaking.

“Puffy?” Niki repeated, more awake, more concerned.

“I’m fine,” she said, too fast, too abrupt. “Don’t—worry about it. Everything’s fine. I’m just—gonna get myself some water.”

Too much like she was running away, Puffy all but bolted from the room, down the stairs faster than Niki could respond. Niki clicked on the lamp and had to do her own detangling from the blankets—Puffy must’ve tucked her in—before deciding to throw one around her shoulders like an oversized shawl. It was cold, in the middle of the night, and if Niki had any inkling of what was going on, she was sure Puffy might like the comfort, in a minute.

She followed her downstairs and found Puffy bent over the kitchen sink, tense as a strung bow and breathing slowly, deliberately.

Niki approached her slowly, and from the side. No surprises. No threats. Just a friend, and a friend’s concern. She settled a hand on Puffy’s shoulder gently, and Puffy groaned. Scrubbed at her face with one hand.

“Fuck.”

“Nightmare?”

Puffy grunted, nodding shallowly.

“It happens,” Niki said, quiet in the stillness of night. “I get them all the time. We can talk about it, if you like?”

“No, no, tonight is supposed to be for you, I don’t wanna saddle you with my baggage,” Puffy groaned, still sounding slightly short of breath.

Niki frowned. “What do you mean, ‘supposed to be for me?’ I thought we were just hanging out?”

Somehow, beneath her hand Puffy grew even stiffer.

“Puffy?”

Puffy groaned again, dropping her head and scratching at her hair. “I just—you’ve been, you—I don’t have to lie to you, Niki! You know we know you haven’t been sleeping,” she said, some mix of exasperation and self-consciousness.

Niki flinched back, snatching her hand away. So this was— Eugh, she’d worried everyone, dammit, she knew it. Stupid little Niki, foolish little girl, problems bleeding out all over the place, couldn’t keep a lid on that shit no matter how hard she tried.

But at the same time, despite the immediate guilt of weighing others down with her problems, it felt… relieving, too. To have someone say it out loud. Like the sting of ripping a bandaid off. It hurt to hear but, well.

“I just—wanted you to have a nice night. Catch a few hours. Do something fun.”

“It was fun,” Niki said honestly. Drinking cocoa and reading stories—it was really nice. “I had a nice night. But it’s okay if you need me to help you, too.”

Framing it like that, it didn’t feel quite as much like admitting that she needed help. Like helping Puffy too was less burdensome than simply needing Puffy’s help.

Puffy was silent, a moment. Rubbed a hand up against her eye, then forehead. Let out a long, shaky breath, then nodded.

“It was the Egg again.”

“It’s back?”

Puffy barked a laugh, a hollow, bitter sound. “No, no, it’s still taken all to pieces, scattered around in iron boxes so it can’t reform. It’s gone and dead. But I still…” Puffy gestured vaguely at her forehead. Niki resettled her hand on Puffy’s back.

“I get it.”

“I feel so guilty and—stupid, I held out so long against it but in the end I still—” she hiccupped around a soft sob, and Niki drew her closer.

Pulled her into the crook of her shoulder, pulled the blanket around the two of them so they were both beneath its warmth. Pet a hand down Puffy’s woolen hair and pressed her face against the top of her head, nose fitting neatly against Puffy’s hornbed.

It almost shocked her, how, despite how much the two of them had gone through, how they’d suffered and recovered and changed, Puffy still fit against her so perfectly like this. Still slotted so neatly into her arms, against her body, perfect height for Niki to rest against, her thick arms around Niki’s waist.

“You were so strong,” Niki whispered, holding Puffy as she trembled and choked back sobs. “You were strong, and fought against it so bravely. It’s okay if it didn’t go the way you hoped it would. In the end, we got you out, and you helped us destroy it, and now you’re here. That’s what matters.”

“It killed my son and I still went to it!”

“Shhhh,” Niki soothed, petting gently through her hair. “You fought your best. It didn’t fight fair. Foolish is okay, too. He’ll have his own nightmares, but none of them were your fault. I was there that night—you did everything you could.”

“I didn’t—”

“You did.” Niki felt slightly bad to cut her off, but Puffy needed to hear it. Or at the very least, Niki hoped she did. “You did,” she repeated, softer, “and it’s okay if it wasn’t enough. Sometimes, even when we give our absolute best, it still isn’t enough. But we lived to try again another day, and now it’s dead and we’re still here.”

If Puffy had anything else to say, it was drowned out by her tears, no longer able or willing to hold them back. Niki held her as she cried, occasionally murmuring soft nothings that got lost within her hair. She held her as Puffy’s fingers dug into the fabric of her shirt. She held her as she trembled. She held her as she wept.

It was hard to say how long the two of them stood there in the dark of Puffy’s kitchen, accompanied by only the moon and starlight. But eventually Puffy settled. Scrubbed at her eyes and blew her nose. She did get a glass of water, then, and the two returned to bed hand in hand.

Niki cuddled up against her very deliberately, then. The cat was already out of the bag: she was here because Puffy knew she had trouble sleeping. And Puffy needed the comfort too, bundled up in blankets once more and still a little sniffly.

“Thanks,” she said, voice raw.

“You too,” Niki returned softly, and closed her eyes.

Puffy was warm and small and dense. Her arm was once again settled around Niki’s shoulders, and Niki stretched an arm of her own across Puffy’s hips. The two of them probably needed to discuss… this. This thing between them. If they were trying again, if they even still could. Niki was still achingly fond of Puffy, and from the events of tonight she didn’t think herself hopeless in praying that Puffy might feel the same. But that was a daylight conversation. Tonight, they could both really use some sleep. Niki closed her eyes, basking in the warmth radiating off her, the way chocolate still lingered ever so faintly in the air, the steady firmness of muscle and bone beneath her cheek.

Niki went back to sleep counting heartbeats instead of sheep.

#Niki Nihachu #Captain Puffy #Puffychu #CaptainPuffy #Niki #Nikki #dream smp #DSMP #mcytyuriweek2023 #mcyt yuri week #my writing #haro writes #insomnia #cuddling #hurt/comfort #nightmares #listen. you didn't think I was gonna do yuri week without doing the CLASSIC puffychu angst did you #tho tbf I'm a day behind #my beloved is visiting for the weekend and I have been Distacted

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