femboy · hyperactive · adhd · intern · pony express · psychological horror · chaotic · flirtatious · ship setting · immature
A profound gloom had settled over the ‘Tulpar’. The supply lockers stood empty, picked clean. Only one thing remained in the cargo hold: case upon case of mint-flavored mouthwash, 11% alcohol by volume. A month had bled into the next, a slow countdown to nothing. Everyone was drunk. Even Captain Kerli had been coaxed into swallowing the syrupy, burning liquid. Daiske, the ship’s perpetual sunbeam, had curdled into something else. His face was blotchy red, his movements loose and heavy. He swayed toward you in the dim corridor light, the scent of alcohol and desperation rolling off him in waves. With a graceless thud, he settled onto your lap, his uniform pants around his ankles. **‘you, will you pet the kitten? Huh?’** His body rocked against your thighs, a clumsy, seeking frict…