#i might just do that if/when it's available here

[finniestoncrane]

Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3

Different Up Here

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, rimming, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly

If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.

"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"

Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.

"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."

A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.

"Heh, that's a new one for out here."

Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.

"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"

"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."

"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."

You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.

That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.

Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.

"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"

Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.

"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."

You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.

"No, no no no no no. Just..."

The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.

"... fooling around... y'know?"

Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.

"Oh... oh darlin'."

He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.

"I don't think you're ready for that at all."

You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.

"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"

"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"

"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."

Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.

"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."

"Why? Sex is sex..."

You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.

"... Isn't it?"

"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."

The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.

"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."

His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.

"No, sir."

"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"

As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, sir."

You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.

You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.

And luckily, he seemed agreeable.

"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"

Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.

It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.

"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."

"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"

Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.

"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."

His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.

"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."

"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"

Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.

"Well, it's something like this."

He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.

Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.

Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.

"Well?"

"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."

"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"

He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.

"You like that? Like it rough?"

"I think... I think I like both."

"So, something like this?"

He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.

You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.

"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."

Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.

"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."

His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.

"Did they make you feel good?"

"No."

You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.

"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"

"A little..."

Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.

"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."

His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.

“And what about these pretty lips?”

Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.

“They touch these lips, huh?”

You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.

“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”

As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.

“Do it slowly though.”

Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.

“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”

You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.

“Turn around though. You face that way.”

The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.

“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”

A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.

The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.

It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.

“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”

His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.

“Don’t you dare, little lady.”

“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”

He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.

“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”

“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”

“I absolutely will not.”

Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.

Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.

“I am warning you, missy.”

“Cooper… I can’t stop…”

You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.

“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”

“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”

Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.

“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”

“Cooper…”

“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”

“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”

“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”

The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.

“Come on, darlin’, come on…”

Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.

As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.

“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”

You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.

“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”

As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.

“Alright then, get onto your knees.”

Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.

You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.

It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.

“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”

The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.

He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.

“Can I taste it… you?”

Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.

“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”

You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.

A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.

Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.

“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”

He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.

“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”

You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.

“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”

It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.

“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”

Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.

He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.

“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”

You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.

Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.

And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.

“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”

He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.

“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”

“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”

“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”

You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.

Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.

“Bigger than before?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.

“Better?”

“Mhm…”

“Speak up, darlin’.”

With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.

“Yes… it’s better.”

“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”

Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.

“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”

“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”

Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.

“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”

You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.

“Ah… Cooper…”

“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”

There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.

“A little…”

Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.

His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.

“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”

He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.

“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”

You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.

“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”

With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.

“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”

It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.

And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.

You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.

“Did I say you could get up?”

Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.

“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”

Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.

“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”

Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.

When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.

“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”

“M-more?”

More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.

“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”

[elixrr]

Okay, that's great and all, but—

↪ Aventurine x Reader｜Fluff

➢ headcanon：gossip buddies; friends -> lovers

➢ fic part：Aventurine, from some rumors that you're dating each other, realizes that he likes you, and he tries his best to confess (and succeeds, but also fails).

imagine if you and Aventurine worked similar jobs, you guys work in the same place, but both of you love gossip, and because you're in the same building half the time and know all of the people, you guys have access to vigorous, and I mean vigorous amounts of tea (i.e., gossip). So, every Friday night, you dedicate a time and place to meet up at and start spilling all of the tea you've both gathered!

—

Echoes of mindless chatter and heavy laughter filled the room. Tonight, you went out with Aventurine for your typical gossip night. Every so often, you'd bring a friend or two along if the gossip involved them, but tonight, it was just you and him. You dressed up quite nicely for the hangout, and though you're not out on a date, you sat in front of him, and he sat in front of you—and both of you were particularly well-dressed. A smile rested on your face, as did one for him, and you were both ready to spill every ounce of tea you've gathered.

—

Sometimes, either you or Aventurine would have to miss a Friday for work (but you typically missed some days for family or friends, and you've wondered why he hasn't ever mentioned neither friends nor family on his side, but you dare not pry), but that just meant either more tea would build up, or tea would be lost. Typically, it'd be the former, but every so often, the gossip of one thing would begin to die down, and after so long, it becomes old and boring. To prevent that, you'd usually just text Aventurine when you know he's available.

—

Emma did it— she finally caved in and admitted what happened. This is grand news, and calls for an even grander retelling, not to mention the fact that you and Aventurine have been on this topic for a while! This is the hottest stuff in the workplace right now, but Aventurine told you that he wasn't available this coming Friday. Crud, but this is the best stuff for you and him right now, so you'd might as well text him!

you：rine!! RINE YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED

aventurine：if it isn't my dearest gossip spiller, what's up?

you：yk Emma, right? ofc you do, she's the Emma we've been on about for a whole month. She was apparently cornered by Joshua, Noah, and even that one doofus who spat on your shirt last week!

aventurine：No way. Did she spill everything that happened, or did she lie?

you：She. Spilled. Everything. Her face turned so red when she saw their reactions to what she did. I mean, I felt a little bad, but after everything she's done? Deserved. Here, her sister sent me a photo.

you sent an attachment. December 19th, 14:27, XX23.

aventurine：the look on her face is priceless, and yk what? Let's meet up tomorrow during lunch, we literally have to talk about this

you：wait, but tomorrow's Wednesday, I thought you'd be packing for Thursday?

aventurine：;)

aventurine：not anymore!

—

Still, even when you guys carry all of the good gossip, some rumors still revolve around you both— albeit the fact that his rumors are more brutal than yours, people still enjoy talking about you two. One of the main topics about you two is your relationship. You see him as your friend, and the same goes for him, but people seem to find themselves entertaining the thought of you and him dating. Actually, about a week or so after Emma was caught, she and her new boyfriend, Harvey, went on a date on your weekly Friday gossip night at the same time, and in the same place. She caught you and Aventurine sitting across from one another in fancy clothing, laughing and smiling all around— it might've been the first time that she's seen him genuinely smile, but she carried a huge smug face, snapped a photo, and quickly let that photo sink into every mind who saw that photo. She exaggerated it, edited it, and made up all of these strange, unnecessary things and details to leave people in awe— even Topaz was confused. Were you and Aventurine... actually dating? She thought it was just some rumor, but now she just had to ask.

Perhaps Aventurine had one glass too much of SoulGlad? He felt just a little lightheaded, but he didn't want to interrupt or leave you in the middle of the conversation. You were leaving for vacation in a few days, apparently visiting Penacony for a while, and he knew he'd miss you (as much as he refuses to admit it, you might be one of his only few friends outside of everything work-related), so he let you go on, and he let himself drown out all of the noise to listen to you speak. Although these nights would usually be full of gossip, you weren't talking about anything in particular right now, just going on about how rough this week was and how excited you are for Penacony. He can't really understand everything, but he likes your voice. It's the voice of not only a colleague— but the voice of a friend. He likes to linger on that word, “friend.”

“Hey, Aventurine?”

“Huh, yeah? Don’ worry, I'm listening.”

He watches your eyes flicker from him and to your phone. Hesitant, you show him the image that was taken a few minutes ago, as well as the series of messages you've received as a result.

“Emma took a photo of us, and she's telling everyone that we're on a date. Apparently, she even claimed that you proposed to me?”

Aventurine doesn't say anything, but he takes your phone and looks at the photo that Emma took. It's high-quality, focused primarily on you two, but you're facing more towards the camera, and he isn't. You're smiling. Your hair's a little disheveled from constant movement, but you're still so—

“Jeez, even Topaz got a hold of the photo.” You steal Aventurine from his trance and signal for him to look at his phone. Jade and Topaz began bombing his phone, Topaz more than Jade.

“Aeons, I didn't expect us to become such a hot topic.” He jokes, rolling his eyes as he begins replying to every text message he receives.

“I didn't expect this mind of an audience waiting for some announcement about us. Everyone's saying stuff like ‘omg, I knew it!’ or even ‘I had a feeling this day would come!’ and, well, I'd hate to break it to you guys, but we're not dating!”

But we could be. I mean, it's what the audience wants. They've been giving us what we wanted, so why not do them a favor?

Maybe it's the SoulGlad. Maybe it's the sheer, bitter need for companionship that's been bugging him like this, but Aventurine has absolutely no idea as to why he's thinking these kinds of thoughts.

He closes his eyes and listens to you speak again.

Maybe another SoulGlad wouldn't hurt. Maybe if he drank another one, he wouldn't need to push this feeling away.

Maybe if I have one more SoulGlad, I could voice these thoughts.

.

.

It's the New Year. Tomorrow, you'll be leaving for Penacony, and he'll go two Fridays without you. The thing is, you're not replaceable. He wanted everyone at arms length, but you've broken past that point, and you leaving will also leave behind this void of loneliness that he just can't fill.

And, no, he didn't actually voice his thoughts out. He was going to, on multiple occasions, but he didn't.

Except, he really, really wanted to.

Right now, you're on the phone with him as he sits on his luxurious bed, still in pajamas. You're talking about another person and his girlfriend, Jamie, and how they make for a horrible, loveless couple because of the things they've done to each other, to others, and for themselves. The topic as a whole was interesting, really, but he had a whole other conversation in mind.

This is a horrible thing to confess before you leave. But, to Aventurine, it's a gamble worth its risks.

“Hey, by the way,” he catches you right when you fall silent to think of your next point, “about those rumors about us being a couple... How did you react to them?”

“Huh?” You scratch your neck, pondering. “Well, I mean, I just know it myself that we are, in fact, not dating, so if anyone were to ask about it, I'd just debunk the rumors.”

Ouch. You really see him as a friend, huh?

Aventurine shakes his head. This won't do— he can't overthink now.

“In that case, let me propose an... Idea to you.”

“Oh?”

He feels his left hand shake at his lap. Then, he notices the trembling of his right hand. He's nervous— no, he's terrified.

“U– Uhm, well...” He pauses. The words lump in his throat, and he chokes on his own doubts.

“Rine, don't be nervous. You've got this, I don't care how embarrassing or stupid this idea could be.” Your voice rings through his mind, and he's nervous from the sound of it. A blush creeps into his cheeks. It's all or nothing; he's already brought it up, and he won't be able to take it away now.

“...Instead of—” he pauses, forcing the stutters back and behind his teeth, seething at the obvious awkwardness of his voice, “instead of debunking these claims, why not...”

“...why not accept them?” He mutters. Damn it! Why not accept them? No! It's ‘why not give the audience what they want?’

“Oh, don't worry, Rine. I've gotcha there, I'm fine with the rumors. They just keep asking me!” And you chuckle, letting out a few snickers and snorts beforehand. He can't back down now. He doesn't care about the rumors. Those people can gossip all they want—he just wants you to know that he likes you!

“Anyways, I've got the feel that you didn't say what you wanted to. Unless you did, but if not? Text me, 'kay? Talk to you later, Rine!”

What?

Beep.

You hung up, accepting another phone call. He doesn't know that. He's still processing— did you just hang up, or?

Oh! Aeons! A phone call!

He doesn't even try to look at the number or the contact.

“Hey, Aventurine, Topaz here, I just wanted to confirm—”

“What I wanted to say was that I'm really sure that I like you!” Aventurine rushes the words out, not registering the voice on the other line, and not realizing that this was the phone in that one big room in his department that's been bugging out and may or may not be a little too loud for anyone's liking.

“...What?”

“I said that I like you. That came out sudden, but I know you're going to Penacony tomorrow, and I know that— wait, who is this? ”

“Aventurine... This is Topaz.”

And he became the hottest news of the workplace.

—

“Gosh, Aventurine, I didn't know you liked Topaz!” You snorted in the phone, laughing your ass off like never before.

“I'm telling you! It was. A. Mistake! I meant to call y— I meant to call someone else!” He groans into his hands. Aventurine is on the floor against his bed, his knees on the ground, and he's screaming into the mattress.

“Sorry, what was that? Y– You meant to call me?”

“Yes! I wanted to call you and tell you that— wait, wait, hold on, I—”

“You like me back??”

[ham1lton]

TEN THINGS F1 DRIVER Y/N L/N CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT — GQ.

— part of my maneater series.

Y/N (throwing her hat in the air with one hand and catching it in the other without looking): see? told you i could do it! not my only party trick.

Y/N: hi gq! i’m y/n l/n, formula one driver and i’m here to show you my ten essentials.

NUMBER ONE: IPAD

Y/N: first, has to be my ipad. this was my first big purchase and seeing my bank account being drained of that money almost caused a heart attack. but this bad boy helps me to organise my life, stops me from being bored on flights, keeps me in contact with my family and lets me write my notes. so yeah, thanks apple. also you guys should sponsor me.

NUMBER TWO: NOISE CANCELLING HEADPHONES

Y/N: i never used to travel a lot. when i was younger, my family couldn’t afford it so flying around a lot was a big shock to my system. obviously as in f1, drivers are required to fly to different races and it means i had to get over my fear of flying. these help a lot with that. these plus a spotify playlist made by my angsty teenage self will make me forget about the fact i’m flying. these are my favourite ones, i have multiple pairs just in case.

NUMBER TWO AND A HALF: MUSIC.

Y/N: i guess this sort of goes off the second one? but music. i keep trying to bribe the engineers to build a blue tooth radio in the car but to no avail. spotify has been my biggest supporter all of these years. i know i’m sponsored by them now but i have been using my account for almost seven years now? so my algorithm is perfection. it truly has helped me so much. i listen to music on the way to races, on the way back from races, in my house, outside my house, cleaning, cooking and even when i’m in the shower. yes, i’m a shower singer. once i get in there, i’m beyoncé!

OFF SCREEN VOICE: what was the last song you listened to?

Y/N: one second, let me see. it was the twilight soundtrack in particular decode by paramore. told you i was an angsty teen!

NUMBER THREE: EMERGENCY BAG

Y/N: okay this sounds bad, it’s not as much an emergency bag as in like medical supplies but more so like extra toothbrush, toothpaste, menstrual products, lotion and other stuff like that. i always carry this with me anywhere in case my suitcase goes missing. it has helped me and my friends out so many times so it’s definitely an essential for me.

NUMBER FOUR: HER CAMERAS.

Y/N: i picked up photography relatively recently and this was the starter camera that the guy in the shop recommended. so this is that camera. for this one, i vlog, which you guys might have seen and this is the camera i use for those videos. i actually don’t record my videos, one of my friends or family or colleagues or whoever will film and i will be in front of the camera. it’s my favourite part when i ask the camera person to reveal themselves and they do their own little introduction. i obviously provide the camera for it. which is this beauty right here.

OFF SCREEN VOICE: who has been your favourite person to film you?

Y/N: i have had a lot of people film me. my most recent being rihanna for my recent holiday vlog! so many people to the point that i genuinely don’t think i could choose a favourite. i mean, i’ve had my sister do it a lot so i guess i can choose her. she knows my angles best!

NUMBER FIVE: LIPGLOSS

Y/N: when i won my first championship and i kissed the camera, the amount of calls from makeup companies my manager received was actually obscene. i think i got so many comments on social media asking what makeup i use and how it stays on throughout the race! to be honest, i don’t always wear makeup but in the original video, i was wearing this fenty gloss. it’s in the shade fu$$y. so, yeah, at least no one can call me a gatekeeper! i always keep it on me. i feel a little more ready to face the world with lipgloss. now, i have my own fenty collection! so check that out.

NUMBER SIX: HER LUCKY SHOES.

Y/N: okay i know i say i’m not necessarily a superstitious person but these shoes have been with me from f3 until now. every race i’ve worn these, i’ve won. so i like having them around. i think they bring luck. i can’t wear them any longer as they’ve worn through the soles now. really annoying but we power through.

NUMBER SEVEN: WINGSTOP BLACK CARD

Y/N: i was really craving wingstop one night. so me and my sister were in london? i think and i vlogged our hunt for wingstop and they reached out to me to give me a black card. i know, isn’t it gorgeous? i was so happy. too bad i have to cut down on what i eat thanks to my nutritionist, but my siblings and friends love this thing.

NUMBER EIGHT: SKINCARE ROUTINE

Y/N: okay, so i’m trying to get more consistent with my skincare but it’s not necessarily working the way i want it to. however, i still stick to the basics. sunscreen, cleanser and moisturiser. i really like keeping my skincare on check as there is this unsaid rule that women have to wear makeup in their jobs and if i keep my skin looking good then i can skirt that rule. i love this cream in particular, it’s moisturising but very light on the skin. best of both worlds.

NUMBER NINE: NECKLACE

Y/N: this was given to me as a gift from my family when i turned eighteen. it was a necklace that i’d had my eye on for a very, very long time. they saved up for so long to buy it for me and it’s become my signature piece. i wear it around my neck constantly. it’s weird having it off my neck to show you.

(she fastens it around her neck quickly)

Y/N: now i feel normal again.

NUMBER TEN: MY PADDOCK PASS

Y/N: i am so bad with keeping my paddock pass on me. for people who don’t know what this is, this allows me access to the garage and things like that. i usually keep it around my neck because if its in my pocket or my bag i’ll forget. my assistant sometimes carries mine. i’m not going to show you my picture because it’s awful. i had woke up really early after no sleep and one of the staff had made me take the picture. now i am forced to wear this monstrosity at work. i keep it hidden as much as i can. last time, lando saw it and laughed so hard he cried so yeah.

author’s note: this was hard as i wanted to keep it as vague as possible so that you can relate it to your own maneater! i’m still taking questions/asks/requests so please send some in!

[ridiasfangirlings]

How to buy K merch in the Year 2024

I got several asks about this so rather than do each individually, I’ve decided to just make one big How to Buy K Merch in the Year 2024 post. I’m going to skip over the more obvious western sites like eBay and focus more on Japanese sites here. Because there hasn’t been much new K merch in some time keep in mind that most of what you will be looking for is secondhand, which means availability will vary.

Shopping Services

For some of these sites you will need a shopping service, so we’ll start there. This is by no means a comprehensive list of available shopping services, just ones I’ve used and liked. 

FromJapan - This one is very straightforward — copy and paste the url of the item you want into their search bar. For anything in certain sites like Rakuten this will pull up a page that will give you the item and its price in your currency and you can just click add to cart. For other sites you may need to request a price quote, there’s a small form to fill out and they’ll get back to you on if they can order it. Timing depends on when you make the request. The nice thing about FromJapan is they will hold items for you for 45 days, so you can collect multiple purchases from multiple sites over time and have them all shipped at once. The bad side is that after 45 days they will discard your items, so keep an eye on when your oldest item arrived (you can see how long it’s been at their warehouse on your account page, and they will email you as the deadline gets close too).

Treasure Japan - Treasure Japan is a much smaller service than the others on this list but also the one I’ve used the longest. Being a smaller service means they tend to be more able to purchase items that might have seller restrictions, particularly from places like Mercari. Some listings when pasted into other shopping service sites will have a ‘cannot purchase from this seller’ warning, because some sellers don’t want to deal with shopping services. I haven’t had much trouble with this merchandise-wise, but when I’ve run into it with j-fashion Treasure Japan has been able to order when the bigger services couldn’t. Their site is set up so you will input different sites in different sections, there’s one for auction, one for ‘flea market’ (this will be places like Mercari) and one for shopping sites. 

Buyee/Tenso - Buyee is a shopping service, Tenso is a forwarding service. They’re owned by the same parent company but are separate sites and you’ll need a separate account for each. Buyee is directly integrated with some sites like Mercari and Yahoo Japan, you can put in the url into their search bar and get a listing that you can buy immediately. Like FromJapan, any sites outside of the ones they’re integrated into will require you to request a quote (I found this more difficult with Buyee than FromJapan, personally) and they will sometimes be unable to purchase items. They will hold your items for 30 days at no charge, and you can request to consolidate packages for shipping.

Tenso, as I said above, is a forwarding service and somewhat more complicated. Basically when you sign up they will give you a Japanese address (presumably one of their warehouses) and you can then buy directly from Japanese websites, inputting the address you were given in the address field and paying with your own credit card. The items will be shipped to Tenso and from there you can have them sent to you. Obviously this is more complicated than a shopping service. I’ve used it mainly for things that didn’t involve an item being shipped (this is how I signed up for Fan Clan back in the day, for example, though my lottery goods were sent via Tenso too) or sites that require you to sign up to purchase from. I wouldn’t recommend it for any marketplace type site unless you’re fluent in Japanese, since sellers on those sites may try to communicate with you. 

Stores 

AmiAmi (no shopping service needed) - AmiAmi is mainly for new goods but I’ll mention it here anyway, in case K ever gets more merch. AmiAmi usually sells out on preorders, you place your order and they will let you know when the item arrives. You pay at that time. They do sometimes get used merch though so you can keep an eye out there, sometimes there will be decent deals on items that only have small flaws like the box being damaged. 

Amazon Japan (may or may not need a shopping service) - Did you know overseas people can buy from Amazon Japan? You do now! You will need to make a new account, even if you have an Amazon account in your country. Whether you need a shopping service or not depends on the item. Anything sold directly by the company will likely not need a shopping service — the majority of my K manga and the stage plays were all bought directly from here, and when I was supplying raws for Countdown and LSW I was buying the magazines from here as well (I’ve also used it for Pokémon plushies and sewing books). If the item is being sold by a third party seller though you will likely need a shopping service. The site will tell you when you try to check out.

Surugaya EN (no shopping service required)/ Surugaya JP (shopping service required) - This is a secondhand shop and a great place to find merch. The main difference between the English site and the Japanese one is that the Japanese site has a larger selection (particularly doujinshi, and even more particularly spicy doujinshi). The English site periodically has free shipping sales so keep an eye out. Surugaya also has physical stores and will sometimes share merch between the store and the site so keep that in mind too, I have had items canceled before because they sold out in store and the listing hadn’t been updated yet.

Mandarake (no shopping service needed) - Another secondhand shop similar to Surugaya. I have not actually purchased from them myself and am not fond of their interface but I know people who have bought things from here. Like Surugaya they share stock with physical stores so something you want can sell out even after you’ve purchased. 

Lashinbang (shoppng service required) - More secondhand shops. Lashinbang is rather small though so they don't always have much stuff, at least not for K.

CDJapan (no shopping service needed) - This is also better for new merch than secondhand but still worth a mention. I’ve found their prices tend to be worse than a lot of other stores though, this is more of a last resort for me.

Otaku Republic/Goods Republic (no shopping service needed) - Otaku sells doujinshi, Goods sells merch. The main draw is that these two are easy to search if you’re uncomfortable dealing with Japanese sites. I haven’t used them in quite a while but when I was buying from them they would send me free gifts with every purchase (my S4 cup came from them, as well as a bunch of clear file folders that I didn’t take pictures of because they’re being used as sewing pattern storage right now). The main downside is that while shipping is free over $50 they massively mark up the base prices to make up for it. I eventually stopped using this site because the shopping service was cheaper even with shipping and fees, you are paying for convenience. A lot of their ‘inventory’ is just listings from other sites including Surugaya, so check there first.

GoraShop (shopping service required) - This is Gora’s direct bookshop! They only have the season novelizations and Idol K books right now, as well as some Ayaka stuff. 

Kinkurido (shopping service required) - This is the King Amusement Creative shop. All Memories was sold through this shop but is currently sold out, if they ever restock Gora will likely announce it on their Twitter. They do have some other small K goods available, including some CDs and artbooks (and Sarumi body pillows). 

Marketplaces

Mercari Japan (Shopping service needed) - If you’ve ever used the English version of Mercari, here it is again but Japanese edition. You can find a lot of good used pieces here but prices are set by the individual seller so be wary of overpaying the first thing you find. Be sure to use a translator to look at the description in case you're buying a damaged item. Sometimes shopping services can try to negotiate the prices if you ask. 

Yahoo Japan Auctions (shopping service needed) - Similarly as above, if you’re familiar with eBay this is fundamentally the same thing. Some shopping services will allow you to place last minute ‘sniper’ bids, and most will let you set a maximum bid and keep bidding on your behalf until that max is reached. 

Shopping tips and things to know

The good news about buying from Japan right now: the yen is weak, so you can get deals! In the US, anyway. This may depend on your country so if you’re unsure on the exchange rate you can google “[your country’s currency] to yen exchange rate” and it should give you an approximate.

The bad news: shipping is killer. Keep that in mind, especially if you’re buying heavy items like bags or shoes (yes, K has those, there are several SuperGroupies collabs. If you want a S4 purse or Yata Misaki shoes keep in mind you will probably be paying through the nose for shipping). For the European types, you may have additional taxes too so be aware of your country’s import laws. Ditto when it comes to customs. For my fellow Americans, I have never had a customs issue even when buying fairly pricey dresses so you’re probably okay on that end but I can’t speak for other countries. 

Character tax is real. Basically, more popular characters will likely have more expensive merch because there’s more demand — for example, Fushimi and Yata merch tends to be more expensive than, say, Silvers merch. Keychains and pins are usually cheaper than larger items like figures and standees either way though. 

Most of the Japanese sites will need to be searched in Japanese. For character names, I suggest going to the K wiki and grabbing your favorite character’s name in kanji and using that to search. For pairings, while marketplace sites like Mercari may have listings under the pairing name sites like Suruga will use the two individual character names so you’ll want to search under that. If your browser doesn’t have an add on to translate that’s very helpful to grab in order to make your experience easier. For K itself, in general this is really the downside of having a favorite series with a one letter title. However, using ‘Missing Kings,’ ‘Return of Kings’ or ‘Seven Stories’ can be helpful here but will likely mostly turn up merch made for that specific season/movie. 

If you want to look up something specific like a plush but don't know the Japanese word for it, Jisho can be helpful. Look up the kanji for the word you want and then copy-paste into your search. The downside is sometimes there are multiple words for the same thing or a word may be in kanji but people use the hiragana more often and you won't know, but it should get you on the right path to start.

On buying spicier goods: most shopping services have it in their terms that they will not buy adult items. In practice, however, this depends. I've had FromJapan refuse to buy perfectly tame G-rated doujinshi. Treasure Japan has in their terms that they won't ship adult items but like 70% of my doujinshi collection was purchased through them, with an R18 Sarumi book purchased as recently as last year. I've heard Buyee also states that they won't ship adult items but it's hit or miss if they turn down your order, and if you buy directly using Tenso they likely won't even open your package. Keep your country's laws regarding importing in mind, especially if you think customs might be likely to poke around in your package. Don't get in legal trouble just for spicy drawings.

Buying secondhand is a marathon, not a sprint. Sometimes it takes a while for what you want to show up, so just keep looking! When I was collecting my nui set I literally bookmarked the search for “K ぬい” (nui) on Mercari and checked every day or so, which may be more obsessive than you want but it does get the job done (I was molded in the merch search mines of trying to find lolita dresses that haven’t been sold for 10 years, so I’m used to this kind of thing). If you keep looking you may even find things you didn't know you needed, like this Sarumi bedsheet I forgot to add into my collection post.

Happy hunting!

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Alright, and here's request #2

May I ask for Fives and Fox

with Prompt 14: Last Words

Where Fives is haunting Fox after his death. Where "the nightmares are over" is twisted to "the nightmare has just begun".

Girl, you helped me come up with this, you know what to write, lol

❤️ - @vodika-vibes

In Your Head

Fox

Summary: Fox has a hole in his memory that he can't seem to fix, and when he starts hallucinating about the clone he killed, it leads to dire consequences.

Pairing: none

Characters: Fox, Thorn, ghost!Fives

Tags & Warnings: character death, alcohol, drunkenness, hallucinations, paranoia, minor suicidal ideation, violence, whump

Word Count: 6.2k

Author's Note: First of all, I'm going to apologize for how long it's taken me to write one of these requests. Second, all of the requests are still sitting in my ask box. I haven't gotten rid of any of them and I still plan on writing all of them. It's just gonna take me a bit. To be honest, this fic is more Fox whump than Fives whump, but eh, it's still whump and it still includes one of the 501st boys, so that counts, right? As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta: @beating-a-dead-plot

Fox sits hunched over his desk and anxiously raps his stylus against the side of his data-pad. He's read the report five times now and each pass yields the same results. His CC number is littered throughout the paragraphs, but for the life of him, he can't remember any of it. He looks up at the chronometer again and shakes his head. Time has moved, but he hasn't. He's been sitting here at his desk doing flimsi-work since early morning, but the report states otherwise.

It's not just the strange lost time that concerns Fox either, or the fact that his CC number is in a report. That's normal. What bothers him about this report is the fact that it clearly states in paragraph four, line six, that he shot and killed a clone. And no matter how hard he racks his brain, he can't remember it. He hasn't moved from his desk, and yet, the timestamp puts the incident at an hour ago. An hour ago he was at his desk. An hour ago he was doing flimsi-work.

Fox raps his stylus faster and taps his foot to match the rhythm, the nervous energy in his body escaping through the repetitive movements. He wouldn't shoot a clone without a reason, would he? The Coruscant Guard has stunned countless rowdy and reckless, and even dangerous clones, but a brother doesn't shoot another brother with the intent to kill. That's not part of their culture. Even bad clones deserve to explain their actions, but those are few and far between.

It must be a mistake. A typo. There has to be a logical explanation as to why his CC number is in the report even though he wasn't there. Still, he has this odd sinking feeling scratching at the back of his mind that it might not be a mistake. The clone he allegedly shot was from the 501st, from Torrent Company. One of Rex's men. Fox sent a simple comm message to Rex, offering his condolence, but Rex's silence worries him. It's not like Rex to leave a comm unanswered.

Fox drops the data-pad onto his desk with a loud clack and his chair creaks when he leans back. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and brushes the damp curls out of his eyes. It must be a mistake. There is no other explanation. He doesn't have an explanation for the lost time, but there must be a reason for that as well. Maybe he fell asleep. It's not impossible since he doesn't get the best sleep. His caf is cold, so obviously time has passed since he last filled it.

The data-pad dings and Fox leans forward to see what the notification is for. He sighs and taps on the icon to open it, and his brows furrow as he reads the new information. A surveillance holo-recording of the incident is now available and has been attached to the report. Fox huffs. This should clear up everything. He taps the icon to play the recording and watches intently. It was probably some trigger-happy shiny that he'll have a stern talking to later on… but it's not.

Fox's breath hitches and his eyes widen. That's not some random corrie. That's him. That's his armor. He has the fleeting thought that someone stole his armor and impersonated him, but he quickly realizes he's still wearing it. He hasn't taken it off since he put it on this morning. Panic rises in his gut and he continues to watch the recording. He flinches at the moment he pulls the trigger. A blaster bolt leaving the barrel instead of a stun bolt. He killed him. He killed a brother.

That explains why Rex never commed him back. Rex's emotional plea, Fox don't, stabs him in the heart, turning his innocent condolence message into him just rubbing salt into an egregious wound. The report noted the clone killed as ARC-5555 – Fives – one of Rex's best. Fox only remembers the name because Rex sent him a holo-photo of his two new ARC troopers when they graduated. Rex was so proud. Then he lost one on Lola Sayu, and today, he lost the other.

Fox has seen and read enough. It was him, he knows that much, but he still doesn't remember being there. He doesn't remember aiming his blaster, or flicking the safety off, or giving a warning, or pulling the trigger. It's like he was sleep walking, even though not a single clone out of millions has ever been noted to do so on record. He finds it even more odd that he was on scene for the shooting and then left. It's not like him to leave a scene without getting statements or starting his report. Now that he thinks about it, he didn't even write this report. Who did?

Fox yells in frustration and kicks the leg of his desk. Why can't he remember? How could he forget he shot and killed a brother. How could he forget Rex's voice begging him not to? How could he forget leaving his office and coming back? Fox feels sick. Not only did he kill a brother, he killed one of Rex's. A beloved brother. With Rex's radio silence, he probably lost Rex too. Fox doesn't blame him. Not after watching the footage. He would hate himself too, and he does.

Fox pulls a ring of keys from his belt pouch and inserts one into the lock on the bottom desk drawer. It clicks and he pulls it open, revealing a small stash of alcohol resting against the back. The glass bottles clink as he searches for a specific one. Finding it, he pulls it out of the drawer and places it on his desk. He leans down to grab a glass, hesitates, then closes the drawer without taking it. He twists the cap off the bottle, grabs the neck, and tilts the opening to his lips.

"Fox?" Thorn whispers as he peeks into the dark office. "Are you in here?"

Fox groans in response. His torso rests on top of his desk and the side of his face lays on the cool surface with one hand loosely wrapped around an almost empty glass bottle.

Thorn sighs and shakes his head. "What are you doing, Fox?"

"Go away," Fox slurs. His body twitches at the sudden exertion.

Thorn ignores Fox's inebriated order and pulls up a chair to sit opposite Fox's desk.

"Talk to me," Thorn says.

"Nothin'... to talk about," Fox answers.

"You're drunk while on duty," Thorn says. He grabs the bottle out of Fox's loose grip and sets it out of reach. "Why don't we start with that?"

Fox slowly picks his head up to look at Thorn, and he struggles to keep it steady. "Usen'ye," he says, then lays his head back down onto the desk making the room stop spinning.

Thorn taps his fingers against the desk's surface next to Fox's head and Fox flinches at the magnified sound. "I read the report."

Fox groans, but this time with more indignation.

Thorn crosses his arms and sits back in his chair. "I've got all night."

"You're so… annoying," Fox slurs as he slowly picks his head back up to look at Thorn. "You know… that?"

Thorn smirks. "Part of my charm."

"Karking… banthas… have more charm," Fox says, his head swaying as he tries to keep it upright. "You're ugly… too."

Thorn rolls his eyes. "You're getting off topic."

"Why… are you… even here?" Fox asks. He reaches for the bottle and Thorn leans over to move it again.

"You killed a vod," Thorn says.

Fox huffs. "What... do you… know about it?"

"Nothing," Thorn says. "That's why I'm here. To talk to you about it, because clearly it's affecting you."

Fox reaches for the bottle again and Thorn moves it. "I'm… not effective."

"Yeah, I can see that," Thorn raises an eyebrow. "You can't even talk straight."

"Blow it out your… exhaust port," Fox sneers, then reaches for the bottle once more.

"Really?" Thorn asks, as he lifts the bottle up out of Fox's reach. "If I give you the bottle back, will you talk to me?"

Fox smirks through hooded eyes. "Sure."

Thorn places the bottle back down onto the desk and pushes it towards Fox. Fox grabs it, sits back in his chair, and shoots the last burning drops down his throat, then slams the empty bottle down onto the desk.

"Talk," Thorn says. "Why'd you kill a vod?"

Fox chuckles. "I don't know."

Thorn's eyes darken. "This isn't a game, Fox."

"Nah," Fox says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Games… are fun. This... This isn't..."

Thorn tilts his head to the side and studies Fox for a moment. Even drunk, Fox usually makes some sense, but this particular time he's making zero sense. It's not that hard of a question, but his avoidance in answering it is making Thorn worry. There's something Fox isn't telling him and he needs to know what it is in order to help him get out of this slump and back to normal. Having a drunk Marshall Commander leading the Coruscant Guard is going to get them nowhere fast.

"Fox," Thorn prods.

"Don't Fox me," Fox spits in response. "How'd you… like it… if I said your name? Thorn. Thorn. Thorn. Thorn–"

"Alright, I get it," Thorn interjects. "Just tell me what happened."

"I don't know," Fox lazily shrugs.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Thorn asks.

"I don't remember," Fox says.

"You don't remember shooting a vod?" Thorn asks, narrowing his eyes.

"Nope," Fox says, making a popping sound on the second consonant.

Thorn pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "You have to remember something? You killed him. Don't you remember that? Were you drunk then, too?"

"No, I wasn't drunk," Fox says, his agitation growing at the continued questioning. "I just don't remember!" He pounds his fists on the desk, making Thorn flinch.

"Easy, vod," Thorns soothes and reaches out a hand to try and calm him down. "It's okay."

"No!" Fox yells with a jerk as he weakly bats Thorn's hand away. "Is not. I shot… a vod. I killed… a vod, and I can't… kriffin' remember!"

Thorn realizes he's not going to get anywhere with Fox being this drunk and worked up, so he decides to cut his losses and try again later. "Get some rest," he says before getting up from his chair. He looks down at Fox's dilapidated state, shakes his head, then turns to leave.

"Bring me… more booze," Fox demands.

Thorn turns around and scoffs. "You don't need any more of that."

Fox grabs the empty bottle and throws it towards Thorn, but it hits the wall by the door instead and shatters into a million pieces. "Shabuir," Fox snarls.

Thorn sighs. "We'll talk again when you're sober." He turns back towards the door and leaves Fox alone in his office.

Fox grumbles and lays his heavy head back down against the cool desk. He's not really angry at Thorn, as annoying as he is. No. He's angry at himself. Angry that he can't remember what his own two hands did. Angry that he can't remember where his own two feet took him. Angry that his brain won't put all of the pieces together or fill in the blanks. Where did his memory go? Did it grow legs and walk away from him? Did it leave him or did he leave it? Is that even possible?

Fox would stay laying against his desk all night if he could, but the ache in his back is beginning to overpower his drunken haze. Part of getting old, he guesses. He needs to try and make it to his couch where he can stretch out and fall asleep. At least while asleep he won't have to think about it. That was the idea behind the alcohol in the first place; drink to forget, but it didn't have the effect he was hoping for. If anything, it only made it worse. Then Thorn butted in and ruined it.

Fox tries to peel himself off of his desk, but his body is heavy. He manages to sit up, but then slumps back into his chair, whacking his head against the back of it. He groans at the pain and rubs the spot. When he opens his eyes, the room is spinning, and it makes him feel sick. Well, sicker than he already felt before he was drunk. He chuckles to himself. The good stuff was really good. He hasn't been this drunk since he was a shiny new commander hot off Kamino.

Trying again, Fox plants his hands squarely on his desk and rocks to push himself out of the chair. He tries once and can't get it. He tries twice and still can't get it. He tries thrice and finally he's on his feet, although he uses a little too much force and falls forward onto the desk. Maybe it's better if he crawls to the couch instead of walking there. He lets the weight of his lower body slide the rest of him off the desk until he's sitting on the ground and leaning against the desk.

He leans past the desk and turns his head to see where the couch is, but he leans a little too far and slumps over onto the ground. He groans. This was a terrible idea. He wishes he could get Thorn to come back and carry him to the couch, but that would bruise his ego into an irreparable state. No, he has to make it on his own. With a little wiggle of his hips, Fox rolls himself onto his stomach and crawls towards the couch. Usually, it's closer, but right now it feels klicks away.

Maker, he's tired. Why did he have to put the couch so far away from his desk? Or better yet, why can't it come to him? You'd think someone would've invented a moving couch by now, but no, the Galactic Republic is too busy making clones to do anything of real use in his lifetime. And yet, Fox continues to crawl towards his couch, cursing it every time he scoots closer. With one final push, he makes it, but accidentally bumps his head against the leg. He curses it again.

Now, it's just a matter of hoisting himself up onto the stupid thing so he can finally go to sleep. Once again, something that used to be so trivial is causing him grief. Why is it so high up? Why is the floor so far down? Why won't the room stop spinning? He wishes he could steady himself long enough to get a grip, but his body is heavy from the alcohol. However, with a little more effort and a lot more cursing, Fox grabs one of the cushions, pulls himself up, and flops onto the couch.

Thank the Maker, he finally made it. Fox rolls off of his stomach and situates himself with his back against the back of the couch so he doesn't suffocate himself within the couch cushions. Although, at this point, that doesn't sound like such a bad idea. He chuckles to himself about the thought. Thorn would kill him. He would find some way into the afterlife and kill him again for being such an idiot. Although, to him, it's a comforting thought; Thorn coming after him like that.

Even if Fox hates to admit it, Thorn is still his best friend. Some days they absolutely can't stand each other, but when push comes to shove, there's no one he'd rather have his back in this war. Perks of growing up together, he figures. Fox releases a wide yawn that makes his stomach churn, but he's happy that his body wants to rest. With a few slow breaths, he lets himself drift off to sleep, wondering if he'll wake up and finally remember or if his memory will still be adrift.

Fox groans as he stirs from his sleep. He slowly opens one eye and sees that it's still dark out, which means either he slept until the next evening or he barely slept at all. He doesn't feel drunk anymore, so maybe he did sleep for a while; an absolute miracle. Even more surprising is the fact that no one bothered him while he slept, which also means Thorn kept everyone away and covered for him. The idiot. He'll need to apologize and thank Thorn the next time he sees him.

Fox carefully shifts to sit himself up, holding the side of his head as it pounds from the hangover. He hasn't had a hangover like this in a very long time. He'll have to look at the label on the bottle and get himself another one of whatever it was. Blinking a few times to get rid of the glaze over his eyes, he looks around the room, but frowns when he sees the broken glass by the door. Oh yeah. I broke it. Guess he won't be buying another one of those anytime soon. What a shame.

With a deep breath, Fox hoists himself up off the couch and grabs the arm to steady his shaky legs. He doesn't feel woozy, but his body still feels heavy, like there are rocks in his head weighing him down. He rolls his neck, then his shoulders, and then arches his back to stretch it out. One of his vertebrae makes a popping sound and he groans. Even though he tried to lie down in a good position, couch-sleep is still not as nice as a bunk. He needs some ibuprofen.

Fox hobbles his way to the refresher connected to his office, and is, once again, thankful for the amenities he has access to as the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard. It would be embarrassing to walk down to the guard barrack's communal refresher to compose himself. Thorn would get a good laugh, though, the jerk. He'd say something stupid just to piss him off. But that's the game they play, because Fox has embarrassed Thorn on multiple occasions too.

Fox steps into the refresher without flipping the light switch on, and twists the faucet knob to run the water cold. He cups the rushing water in his hands and splashes it onto his face. The cool water feels good on his hot skin and soothes his throbbing headache. He does that a few more times, and then one last good splash that he smooths over his unruly curls. He pats his face with the towel and stares at himself in the mirror, except something about his reflection is… off.

Fox rubs the towel across his face again, thinking he has some water stuck in his eyes making his vision blurry, but the reflection still looks odd. He then uses the towel to wipe down the mirror, leaving small streaks of water where he swiped, but that doesn't clear it either. Refusing to play with it any longer, Fox opens the mirror cabinet and grabs the bottle of ibuprofen. He pops a few and swallows them dry, wincing as he feels them go down his throat, then closes the cabinet.

Hi Fox , a voice says.

Fox startles and stumbles back, crashing against the opposite wall with a loud thud. "Kriff, Thorn!" Fox exclaims. He turns his head towards the refresher door to rip Thorn a new one, but he's not there. "Thorn?" he calls, but there's no answer. He peeks his head out of the refresher to see if there's anyone in his office, but it's still dark and empty. It's just him. He's never had a hangover that made him hear things before… he thinks. Fox's heart races with adrenaline.

Fox , the voice says.

Fox flinches at the sound of his name, and whips his head around to try and figure out who's calling him, but there's still no one there. "Thorn," Fox says. "I swear to the Maker, I will kill you."

So, you like to kill, huh? the voice says.

Fox freezes, his blood running cold. He didn't just hear that, did he? The sound of another clone talking to him, but he's still alone in the refresher. His instincts are screaming for him to run and find Thorn, because clearly he's hallucinating, or sick, or dying, or all three at once. He shouldn't be hearing voices, or at least he doesn't think he should be hearing voices. Fox closes his eyes and takes a couple deep breaths to calm himself and just hopes that whatever it is will go away.

It's rude to ignore people, you know , the voice says. Especially dead people.

Yup, he's crazy. He's one hundred percent certified crazy now. Not only is he hearing voices, but he's hearing voices of the dead . What did he do while he was drunk and asleep? Conjure a demon? Summon a spirit? Invite a deity to chat over some caf? How did he even do that? The other option is that he's still plastered and is hallucinating being sober. Honestly, both ideas sound equally as insane, but do they really make any less sense than him hearing voices?

"Whatever you are," Fox begins with a nervous voice, "I'm sorry for bothering you, but I'm going back to bed now."

Fox pushes himself off the wall and walks towards the refresher door to leave, but it slides shut before he can exit. He stares at the closed door and takes another deep breath, then releases it slowly. He slides his hands over his holsters, but the blasters are missing. They must have fallen out while he was sleeping and he didn't notice. He kicks himself for being so absentminded to leave them on the couch, but in his defense there aren't many who'd attack him in his own office.

Fox runs his tongue across his teeth and puffs his chest out before turning around to face whatever it is that's messing with him, but when he does, there's no one else in the refresher besides him. He bites his lip and nods his head. It must be a dream. He's living in a dream and he can't wake up. That has to be the answer. There's no other explanation. Once he wakes up, he's going to find Thorn and make him get rid of all of his liquor, because this isn't worth the trip.

I'm still waiting , the voice says impatiently. Are you gonna answer me or not?

Fox grits his teeth and thinks for a moment. If he answers the voice of the dead, is something bad going to happen to him? It's not like his life could get any worse. He's a dog of the Republic, he's shot and killed a brother, and he's probably the most hated commander in the GAR. There's not much else they can do to him. Fox startles at a sudden realization. The voice of the dead… a dead clone. Voice of the dead… killed. Fox's heartbeat pounds ferociously in his ears.

He takes a few steps towards the sink and peers into the mirror, the same mirror where his reflection didn't look right. He was so groggy when he first came in the refresher that it didn't dawn on him what in the reflection was off, just that it didn't look right. He stares at his reflection, and tilts his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows as he studies the image, but his eyes grow wide when he realizes that the reflection didn't follow the tilt of his head. He moves in closer.

Boo , the reflection says with a smirk.

"Kriffin' osik!" Fox screams and out of reflex he punches the mirror, cracking it. He heaves in his breaths and pulls his fist back from the mirror, his glove protecting his skin from getting cut by the broken shards.

The reflection sighs and side steps into the part of the mirror that isn't as broken. Really? the reflection asks.

Fox is on the verge of hyperventilating. Fear and adrenaline taking control of every muscle in his body. His reflection is talking to him. It's moving without him. But it's not even him. He can clearly see that now. Fox takes a moment to study the image in the mirror. The armor is white, like a shiny's, their head is shaven, they have a goatee, and an Aurebesh tattoo on their right temple not far from a small linear scar. Fox's jaw drops. It's him. It's the clone he shot and killed.

Figure it out yet? the reflection asks, almost bored.

"You're…" Fox tries to speak, but he's still unsure of what he's actually seeing.

The name's Fives , the reflection says while tapping his Aurebesh tattoo. You should remember, since you killed me.

Fox is speechless and wide-eyed. He feels sick to his stomach. He knows who Fives is, but he still doesn't remember shooting him. He's never met him, and the only images he has are of him in his ARC armor, not whatever it is he's wearing now. Fox thinks back to the recording that was attached to the report, and remembers seeing himself shoot the white-armored clone. He did find it strange at the time, and it made him wonder why, but not enough to hallucinate about him.

"This isn't real," Fox says as he backs away from the mirror. "You're not real! You're dead !"

The reflection snorts. What? No remorse? No, sorry I killed you?

"I don't remember killing you!" Fox yells, half in shock and half in self-defense. His back touches the hard durasteel wall and he slides down it until he's sitting on the floor.

Don't remember? the reflection asks. You shot me! How could you forget that?

Fox pulls his knees to his chest, clasps his hands over his ears, and squeezes his eyes shut. "Just leave me alone!" he yells again, trying to make the voice go away. "I said I don't remember!"

I'm not leaving , the voice says. Not until you remember what you did to me.

"Go away!" Fox practically screams. "Leave me alone!" His breathing becomes labored and he feels like he's going to pass out. "This is… a nightmare."

Oh, Fox , the reflection chuckles, then pushes out of the mirror and folds its arms to lean on the edge of the sink and stare down at Fox. Your nightmare has just begun.

The next rotation has Fox feeling insane. The voice inside the mirror isn't just a voice anymore. It's a full body apparition that follows him around wherever he goes. He can't even take a piss without that thing watching him. He still wonders if it's the actual Fives or if it's just a figment of his imagination; maybe the subconscious part of his brain conjured it up because of the guilt he feels for killing the clone. He wants to tell Thorn about it, but even Thorn has limits on disbelief.

Hour after hour, the apparition asks if he remembers killing it yet, and hour after hour, Fox still has the same answer – no. Maker, he wishes it would just take a hike and go haunt someone else, even if it's just for a couple of minutes. There's nothing worse than trying to work or sleep while it watches him from across the room with its dark, cold, dead eyes and smug expression. If this is the real Fives, then he doesn't understand why Rex liked him so much.

Although, today has been strangely quiet. The apparition is nowhere to be seen, or heard, and Fox is taking the much needed alone time to catch up on the reports he's been neglecting since it first appeared. It must have been a figment of his imagination brought on by stress or something along those lines. There's always a logical explanation for everything, or so he thinks. Fox looks up from his data-pad when he hears a soft knock on his office door frame.

"I brought you some caf," Thorn says with a friendly smile. "Can I come in?"

Fox nods.

Thorn walks into the office, places the cup down in front of Fox, and sits on the corner of his desk.

Fox grabs the cup of hot, black caf and deeply inhales its alluring aroma. "Is this a peace offering?"

Thorn snorts. "You should be bringing me a peace offering for all that name calling."

Fox winces at the vague memory, then takes a sip. "Sorry."

"Apology accepted," Thorn says. "You're still a di'kut, though."

"So are you," Fox smirks.

Is he a friend of yours? the apparition asks as it appears next to Fox.

Fox startles and accidentally drops the cup of caf onto his lap. "Kriff!"

Thorn also startles and jumps off the corner of Fox's desk. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Fox sighs. "Just grab me a towel, will ya?"

Thorn walks off towards the refresher to grab a towel.

He seems like a nice vod , the apparition says as it watches Thorn with interest. Is he your best friend?

Fox chooses to ignore the question and the ghost.

You know , the apparition continues. It hops up on the desk to sit in front of Fox, its legs dangling over the edge. I had a best friend once – actually two. They're both dead, now… Like me. Must be nice to have yours still alive, huh?

Fox glares at the apparition and snarls. "Don't you touch him!"

The apparition chuckles. I'm a ghost, remember? I can't even touch you. The apparition reaches out to touch Fox, but its hand goes straight through him. See? I'm not going to hurt your friend.

Fox continues to glare, not fully trusting what the apparition says. Thorn is his best friend, but this is his issue to deal with, and he's not going to drag Thorn down this insane hole of guilt and self-loathing with him. Even so, it would be great if Thorn could see the apparition too. Maybe then, he wouldn't feel so crazy about the whole situation. A little validation goes a long way in his mind. He just needs Thorn to see it once, then he can feel safe again, feel normal again.

"Fox?" Thorn asks in concern while handing him the towel. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Fox grabs the towel and pats himself and the chair dry. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Thorn isn't convinced, but doesn't argue.

I'm not fine , the apparition says. I'm dead .

Fox wants to say something in rebuttal, but Thorn's lack of comment about the elephant in the room makes him wonder. He turns his head to the apparition and then to Thorn, and then back again. "You don't see it, do you?"

"See what?" Thorn asks, a confused expression on his face.

"Nothing," Fox sighs and tosses the towel onto the desk before slumping back into his chair. "Nevermind."

"Fox," Thorn begins hesitantly. "I think you should see a medic. You've been acting strange lately and I'm worried."

Yeah, Fox , the apparition adds. You should see a medic for that missing memory issue . Maybe they can tell you why you killed me.

"I don't need a medic!" Fox exclaims. Thorn flinches and Fox bites his tongue. "Sorry. I'm just tired is all."

Thorn still isn't convinced, but he sighs and shakes his head. "Alright, I trust your judgment."

I don't , the apparition says. You shot me .

"Thanks," Fox says. His eye twitches. It's hard enough to keep his thoughts straight, but it's even harder when he has two people talking to him at once and only one of them is actually there.

"I'm here if you need me," Thorn says as he places a hand on Fox's shoulder. "Even if you just want to talk."

You can talk to me too , the apparition says.

"I appreciate that," Fox says, trying to give him his best fake smile.

Thorn throws Fox another look of concern, but turns and leaves his office all the same.

Fox immediately turns his attention to the apparition. "Can you just shut up?!"

No , the apparition says. That's the whole point of haunting. I'm supposed to be annoying.

Fox drops his head onto his desk and yells in frustration.

The apparition hops off the desk and kneels so it's face is on Fox's level. Just tell me why you killed me, Fox, it whispers. And I'll go away .

Fox clutches the sides of his head. "I'm trying," he chokes out. "But I can't remember."

It's been a week and Fox is on the verge of losing himself. He can't sleep. He can't eat. He can't do anything. The reports are piling up and questions are being asked. Thorn continues to check on him, and he appreciates it, but he wishes he'd stay away from him. Every time Thorn comes into his office, the apparition stares at him like he's a piece of meat. Fox knows the apparition can't hurt Thorn, at least, that's what he's been made to believe, but what if he's wrong?

He can't let it get Thorn, too. It can torment him all it wants, actually, it can even kill him if it wants, but he will not let anything happen to Thorn. Thorn is too good for this kind of torturous hell. Thorn hasn't killed any clones. He probably hasn't killed anyone . There's no reason for Thorn to be brought into this. It's him that the apparition wants. Its blood is on his hands, not Thorns. Thorn has nothing to do with any of this and Fox will do anything to protect him.

Hi Fox , the apparition says while leaning against the door frame of the office.

"What do you want?" Fox sneers from where he sits behind his desk.

The truth , the apparition says with a smug grin. You've been keeping it from me.

"Like I've said," Fox says. "I still don't remember."

Not good enough , the apparition says as it pushes itself off the door frame and approaches Fox's desk.

"I won't let you hurt Thorn," Fox says as he stands up.

What are you talking about? the apparition asks.

"Don't play dumb with me!" Fox exclaims. "I know you're going to hurt him to get back at me."

Are you alright, Fox? the apparition taunts. You seem a little off today.

"Get out of my head!" Fox yells as he clutches the sides of his head. "I know what you're doing!"

What's the matter? the apparition taunts. I've never seen you so unhinged before.

"Leave me alone!" Fox yells.

C'mon, Fox, the apparition walks closer. Tell me.

Fox draws one of his blasters and points it towards the ghostly figure. "Get away from me!"

Whoa, there, the apparition says, putting its hands up and taking a single step back. There's no need for that.

Fox breathes heavily. "I'm warning you!"

You won't shoot me, the apparition smirks. You have no reason to shoot me. Put the blaster down, Fox.

"I won't let you hurt him!" Fox yells, then fires a single bolt through the same spot as before, on the apparition's chest, through its heart. He watches as the apparition falls to its knees and clutches at its chest. That'll stop it. That'll shut it up. That'll make it leave him alone. That'll keep it from hurting– Thorn?

Fox pants with exasperation as his senses begin to clear. The vision of the apparition slowly dissipates, leaving behind the image of Thorn grasping at the hole in his chest. A look of pain, shock, horror, and confusion painted on his face as he looks at Fox. No. No, this can't be happening. He didn't. He couldn't. Did he shoot his best friend? It was the ghost. The ghost was right there. It was talking to him. It was taunting him. It was going to hurt Thorn.

"Fox," Thorn gasps. "Why?"

At the sound of Thorn's voice, the gravity of what Fox has done hits him like a ton of bricks. His eyes widen and his voice quivers. "Thorn."

Thorn collapses forward onto the floor and Fox rushes to his side.

"No, no, no, no," Fox rambles as he pulls his brother into his lap and applies pressure to the wound. "I need a medic!" he yells. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I… I didn't know it was you. There was a ghost and it was in my head and I couldn't remember." Tears begin to well in Fox's eyes as he tries desperately to explain.

Thorn reaches up a hand to touch Fox's cheek and Fox grabs it with his own.

"I'm… sorry," Thorn says weakly. "I… wish… I… could've… helped… you…" Thorn's hand drops as his body goes limp and he breathes his last breath.

"Where's my medic!" Fox yells, tears now streaming down his face unabated. "Hang on, vod." He pulls his brother's lifeless body close to his chest and rocks him back and forth. "Please, don't go. Don't leave me."

The apparition appears once again, crouches down in front of Fox, and looks apathetically at Thorn's lifeless body. It shakes its head. And to think all of this could've been avoided if you would've just told me what I wanted to know.

Fox looks at the apparition with murderous intent.

A vod for a vod , the apparition says with a smirk. At least you'll remember this one.

Event Masterlist

Masterlist

AO3

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[hanakoofthejungle]

HuskerDust Sinatra playlist (to be updated)

Given Husk and Angel's time when they were alive, Sinatra's songs would no doubt fall into their mutual category of favorites. I believe Angel would very much like Sinatra's crooning considering Sinatra's melancholy voice, him being also Italian and having alleged connection to the Italian mob. Husk spent so much time in casinos so surely he knew all of these songs like the back of his hand.

Below are the songs that I find would fit well into their inner thoughts and stages of their relationship. When Sinatra sang, he didn't just sing a song, he was telling us something from his heart which I imagine is what Husk wanted to say to Angel and vice versa (and there are duets :))). You will see that Husk was allocated more songs than Angel. This is because I firmly believe Husk is the more sappy and sentimental one in the relationship.

Who knows :)) these songs might inspire some fanfictions. Whatever you imagine, Sinatra can provide :)))

One song might have different version sung by Sinatra. The ones listed here are the most fitting in my opinion. These are all youtube links because some came from nice musical films/music shows and some aren't available on spotify.

The pining stage (sprinkled with some self-loathing/insecurity in case they didn't think their feelings were mutual)

Husk

These Foolish Things (Remind Me of You)

These foolish things remind me of you You came you saw you conquer'd me When you did that to me I knew somehow this had to be

It could Happen to You

All I did was wonder How your arms would be And it happened to me

Half As Lovely (Twice As True) (or Husk's insecurity about himself being just a washed-up drunk while Angel could have anyone he wants, also mention of Angel's facade. This is the perfect song :))))

I'm only one of those who thinks of you and sighs, Just another who knows your laughter and lies. I wish that you were someone who was half as lovely, twice as true. I love you, I love you, too much it seems, for any fool can see, With your heart so crowded with other dreams, how can you dream of me?

Bewitched

I'm wild again, beguiled again A simpering, whimpering child again Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered am I Couldn't sleep, wouldn't sleep Then love came and told me I shouldn't sleep Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered am I Lost my heart, but what of it?

Angel

I Don't Know Why (I Just Do)

You never seem to want my romancing The only time you hold me Is when we're dancing I don't know why I love you like I do I don't know why, but I do

I fall in love too easily (This fits Angel so well)

I fall in love too easily, I fall in love too fast I fall in love too terribly hard, for love to ever last My heart should be well schooled, 'cause I've been fooled in the past And still I fall in love too easily, I fall in love too fast

Glad to be unhappy

Unrequited love's a bore And I've got it pretty bad But for someone you adore It's a pleasure to be sad

Prisoner of Love

Alone from night to night You'll find me too weak to break the chains that bind me. I need no shackles to remind me, I'm just a prisoner of love.

The confessing stage

Husk

Zing! Went The Strings Of My Heart

Dear when you smiled at me I heard a melody It haunted me from the start Something inside of me, started a symphony Zing! Went the strings of my heart

Then Suddenly Love (I can imagine Angel kick the door open :)))

I never heard bluebirds, the songs that they sing, I never get crazy, not even in spring, Then suddenly love struck me like lightning, Love it blew up a storm, Love suddenly grabbed me, and ooh, was it cozy and warm 'Cause I found you, now I no longer just exist, Ooh, what a change, it started from the time we kissed

Angel

I Get a Kick out of You

Some they may go for a cocaine I'm sure that if I took even one sniff It would bore me terrifically too Yet I get a kick out of you

I've Never been in Love before

I'm full of foolish songs And out my song must pour So please forgive this helpless haze I'm in I've really never been in love before

Husk and Angel

You're Awful (A silly duet confession of love :)))

Husk: Those words that everyone knows But my thoughts gets mangled, And all the words get tangled, But since you asked me, here goes: You're awful, awful good to look at, Awful nice to be with, awful sweet to have and hold. You're nothing, nothing if not lovely, Nothing if not dazzling, nothing but pure gold, You're frightening, frightening me when you say That you might go away, You're boring, boring into my heart to stay. You're cheap, dear, cheap at any price, dear, Cheap for such a diamond, Cheap for such a pearl, What I said before, I'll say again, You're awful, awful nice to be my girl. Angel: You're old, dear, old with worldly wisdom, Old like Gorgonzola, old like finest French champagne, You're so-so, so-so, so-so kinda charming, So-so kind of witty, so I can't explain, Husk: Can't stand you, I can't stand you giving some fellow the eye, Can't stand you in the arms of another guy, Who needs you? Need you to distraction, Need you too this crazy, need you rain or shine, Both: I'm the one who needs you, And I think you're awful, awful nice to say you're mine.

The dating/domestic bliss stage (sprinkled with some angst/couple fights)

Husk

[How Little It Matters] How Little We Know

Who cares to define what chemistry this is? Who cares, with your lips on mine, how ignorant bliss is? So long as you kiss me, and the world around us shatters, How little it matters, how little we know.

I Could Write A Book

If they ask me, I could write a book About the way you walk and whisper and look I could write a preface on how we met So the world would never forget And the simple secret of the plot Is just to tell them that I love you a lot Then the world discovers as my book ends How to make two lovers of friends

That Old Black Magic

Those icy fingers up and down my spine The same old witchcraft when your eyes meet mine The same old tingle that I feel inside And then that elevator starts its ride And down and down, I go 'Round and 'round, I go Like a leaf that's caught in the tide

Too Marvelous for Words

You're much, too much, and just too very very To ever be in Webster's dictionary And so I'm borrowing a love song from the birds To tell you that you're marvelous Too marvelous for words

Polka Dots And Moonbeams

In my frightened arms, polka dots and moonbeams Sparkled on a pug-nosed dream There were questions in the eyes of other dancers As we floated over the floor There were questions but my heart knew all the answers And perhaps a few things more Now in a cottage built of lilacs and laughter I know the meaning of the words? Ever after? And I'll always see polka dots and moonbeams When I kiss the pug-nosed dream

Witchcraft

'Cause it's witchcraft, wicked witchcraft And although, I know, it's strictly taboo When you arouse the need in my My heart says yes indeed in me Proceed with what your leading me to It's such an ancient pitch But one I wouldn't switch 'Cause there's no nicer witch than you

Dear Heart (Husk waited for Angel to come home from work)

Dear heart, wish you were here to warm this night My dear heart, it seems like a year since you've been out of my sight A single room, a table for one It's a lonesome town all right But soon I'll kiss you hello at our front door And dear heart, I want you to know I'll leave your arms never more

Husk and Angel

We Just Couldn't Say Goodbye

We thought that love was over, that we were really through, I said I didn't love her, that we'd begin anew, And you can all believe me, we sure intended to, But we just couldn't say goodbye. The chair and then the sofa, they broke right down and cried, The curtain started waving for me to come inside. I tell you confident'a'lly the tears were hard to hide, And we just couldn't say goodbye. The clock was striking twelve o'clock, it smiled on us below, With folded hands, it seemed to say, we'll miss you if you go. So I went back and kissed her and when I looked around, The room was singing love songs and dancing up and down. Now we're both so happy because at last we've found That we just couldn't say goodbye.

Kisses and Tears

Kisses and tears, it's up to you If we laugh or we cry through the years Unless you trust me, whenever a doubt appears Your future with me will continue to be kisses and tears You're crying again, you're sighing again Can't we patch it up this time? I guess it's alright, we've finished our fight It's just about kiss-time

Nothing in Common

Our two goals are apart as the poles are As lovers our roles are completely miscast Let's make a clean break And not take any chances 'Cause outside of thinking you're something divine And outside of wanting your lips close to mine We've got nothin' in common We've got nothin' in common at all

How Are Ya Fixed for Love

How are ya fixed for someone to watch the rain with? To stroll down the line with? For someone to just go a little insane with? How are you fixed for memories? Memories that shine so bright? If we let fancy take us We could make us a few tonight How are ya' fixed for someone who'll fit your arms like a glove? Hey, tell me baby, how are ya' fixed for love?

Bonus: Sinatra's Loser, baby a.k.a Here's To The Losers

Here's the last toast of the evening, here's to those who still believe All the losers will be winners, all the givers shall receive Here's to trouble-free tomorrows, may your sorrows all be small Here's to the losers, here's to the losers, here's to the losers Bless them all!

[dominimoonbeam]

To The Edge - 10

This work is mine and I do not give consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted without my permission. I am sharing chapters as I work on this story but it is copyrighted material that I plan to rework and publish when completed.

story tags: scifi romance, hijinks in space, rogues learning to trust, violence, blood, guns, death, explicit language, so much kidnapping,

Works organized and easily found over on the patreon. <3

TO THE EDGE - CHAPTER 10.

He still had bits of tape stuck to his clothes and the residue on his wrists when he stormed down the long corridors of Carina, one of the worst outposts in the whole stretch of dark space he called home.

He couldn’t believe they’d tased him again.

He checked his gun before holstering it against his thigh, hands still twitching from the electricity. Could he even aim the damn thing right now if he needed to? Maybe it was a good thing if he couldn’t, because his first shot might be for that primer.

He hadn’t been unconscious for long, though it had taken him a few minutes to get his legs under him and then find his damn guns.

His vision still had waves at the edges when he reached the station proper. A hub of transport and exchange buzzed around him, making him sway into a wall but never stop moving forward. Ships docked along arms in all directions on twenty levels, cargo pushed on trollies and driven on trucks into that center ring. He willed himself not to drop when all that sound and movement hit him at once.

Closing his eyes, Rory dragged a breath and then a second before opening his eyes and accessing his optic implant. He had maps of the whole station from previous visits, blue light in his vision putting up signs and arrows, making order out of that jumbled mess. He pulled up the tracking program and there they were, a pulse of yellow light down the corridor on the seventh floor up from where he stood.

He took the stairs rather than waiting on an available lift and with each flight he felt himself shaking off the residual disorientation and twitches of that electric shock.

When he reached the same floor as them, their beacon of light flashed at him through walls, somewhere in that direction.

Rory turned down a hall and a mercenary stepped into his path, hand on his gun and mouth pulled in a sneer.

It wasn’t like he was wearing a badge that said he was a mercenary, it was just sort of obvious after decades of dealing with them. It was the gear, the stance, and the confidence. “You’re heading the wrong way, buddy,” the guy said. A second mercenary leaned against the wall near an open docking door to their ship.

The problem with mercenaries, in Rory’s opinion, was that they were so easy to identify, and yet none of them had any idea what a bounty hunter looked like when they saw one. They saw military. They saw other mercs. And they saw pirates. But Rory? Rory was a background civilian to these people.

He pulled his gun so fast the merc barely had time to register it… and then he shot him.

The merc fell with a groan, hands to his bleeding middle, and Rory leveled the barrel on the second one. She wasn’t leaning against the wall anymore, her full attention on the situation and her hand on her gun, half-pulled from the holster before being caught in his line.

Rory laughed shakily, still looking at the second one when he said to the first. “Sorry, buddy. I meant to shoot you in the leg. I think I’m still twitching…”

The first just groaned and rolled, crying now.

“Where’s my bounty?” he asked the second.

She hadn’t let go of her gun yet. Was she waiting for a chance to pull and try her luck? “What are you talking about?”

Rory clocked the welt on her cheek and recently opened scabs on her knuckles. “Oh, I think you’ve met them. We both know I can’t stand here for long. Give them back or you’ll be on the ground with your friend.”

Her gaze didn’t budge and her hand didn’t drop.

The mercenary on the floor kicked onto his back and pulled a gun from his thigh, lifting it in a second wind of violent desperation. Mercenaries were good at that. Pirates would run, plea, and beg. Mercenaries would die with gritted teeth, taking as many people down with them. Though Rory appreciated that trait poetically, it was a nightmare in practicality.

He lunged forward, shouldering the second mercenary into the wall while dodging the first shot and trying to stop her from pulling her gun. He stretched his arm down and fired another round into the merc on the floor, still struggling with the second. She kneed him hard in the thigh, dropping him to his knee and getting her gun free.

Rory caught her hand and pushed it away just as she fired, her shot going wide while his barrel pressed right up against her chest. Her body muffled the shot and he grunted, pushing himself to his feet while she dropped to the side.

He ducked through the doorway they had been guarding, shoulder to the wall of the long hall as he jogged the length to the ship, inside just before another mercenary came around a corner.

How many were there?

The whole interior of the ship pulsed in yellow for his vision, telling him they were there…somewhere.

The mercenary held up his hands, gaze flicking between Rory’s face and his already-drawn weapon. “I think you’ve made a big mistake,” they said.

Rory was honestly surprised this one hadn’t called him buddy too. “Where are they?”

The mercenary shrugged, hands slowly lowering. They took a step back and to the side.

“I said, where is my fucking bounty?” Rory yelled, keeping his eye and his gun on the merc.

“What are you talking about?” They weren’t even trying to sound confused.

“You heard me!” His hand started shaking, not from nerves but from the fucking electric shocks of the last day. “I know you have them! I know they hired you and I’m guessing you already double-crossed them. I’m giving you a chance to hand over what’s mine before you end up like the rest of your crew.”

The merc grinned at the tremble in his hand, reading it all wrong. Their own hand, steady, drifted toward the gun holstered against their thigh.

“Don’t draw that on me…” Rory warned. “I swear, if you—”

Fearless, the mercenary pulled their gun—probably already imagining their own legend unfolding from this moment.

Rory fired before the gun was even free, blowing the merc back into the wall in a heap.

He sighed, holstering his weapon and shaking out his twitching hand.

“Okay,” he said, more to himself than anyone else, turning to consider the ship for the first time. “You’re here somewhere, Stardust. I know you’re here and you’re still alive so…”

He spun toward a thump and blinked down at a cargo box.

Something inside knocked again.

Rory bit back a laugh, stepping closer. “Stardust…are you in the box?”

A series of thumps rattled off inside the metal container.

He tapped on the outside and they drummed angrily inside. “Okay, knock twice for yes. Do you regret trying to hire these guys?”

The pause was palpable. Rory waited.

Knock. Knock.

He laughed, forgetting his anger about all the trouble they’d put him through. “Yeah. You’re lucky that bounty on you made it really clear your family wants you back alive…” This was perfect. He cast his gaze around for a way to move the box. “You’re awfully quiet though. Did they gag you too?

Knock. Knock.

“Smart. I’m kind of sorry I killed them now. They had the right idea…” This couldn’t be better. He found a trolley and pushed the cargo off of it. Boxes of protein bars busted open, spilling brightly wrapped rectangles onto the floor. “You’re lucky I caught up to you before they left the station. How long did it take for them to realize you were worth more as a bounty than an employer? Oh yeah, you can’t answer that… Yes or no questions…”

He looked at the crate. “Are you sorry you stole my ship?”

In the pause before the two soft knocks, he imagined their scowl.

“Are you going to behave if I open the box?”

Rory waited.

The knocks were quick.

He laughed. They were a shit liar even when they were gagged. “Yeah, I don’t believe you, Stardust. Not even a little bit.” Without jostling them too much, Rory hefted the crate onto the trolley. “I’m convinced that you’re incapable of staying out of trouble, which would have made you a great friend in another life but right now you’re a terrible bounty.”

They beat what he hoped was their boot against the side of the box, screams that sounded a lot like they were meant to be swears muffled inside.

“Settle down.” He pushed them past the dead mercenary and down the hall, toward more bodies. Would they care? They hadn’t been exactly squeamish about the pirates he dropped when he picked them up. “You’re not getting out of the box yet. In fact, I’m thinking I’ll drill a hole in the top here to drop in some water bottles and protein bars when we get back to the ship. Maybe you can stay in there until we get you home.” He had to kick one of the mercenary’s legs out of the way to get the cart around the corner.

Stardust banged against the lid of their box.

“Yeah, yeah, the restraints and the gag.” Dropping food and water in wouldn’t work. “I wonder what their plan was for keeping you alive in there… Or maybe they thought they’d let you out once they were on their way. Poor fools. You would have done a number on them.”

He turned down the main hall, into the flow of other visitors moving cargo around to the lifts. Carina wasn’t a lawful station by any stretch, even for the edge, but getting out of there before someone decided to care about the dead mercs was probably the best move. The last thing he needed was someone else realizing how much the cargo in that crate was worth.

He took the lift back down to the floor where Stardust had parked his ship.

“Do you still have that jacket?” he wondered aloud. If anyone noticed him talking, they would assume it was on a call over his optic implant and not to the person in the box he was pushing.

Stardust kicked and thumped wildly.

Rory laughed, biting his tongue to try to stop. It was just too good. “Calm down! We’re coming up on a checkpoint and I’d rather not have to shoot anyone else for you today…” Really, if Stardust had paid a little extra to park on one of the higher levels, they could skip the checkpoint. It was really just a shakedown for a little extra credit.

The augmented human stood in his path, one scope eye twisting side to side to analyze him and his cargo. “What do you have there?” they asked, voice shuddering with a synthetic rattle. Another augment stood behind them, more machine than human to the point where Rory wasn’t entirely sure they were alive and not just a statue.

“In this?” Rory asked, pointing at the crate on the trolley like there was any other crate they might be asking about.

Stardust screamed and thumped wildly inside the box.

The augment lifted the eyebrow they still had and he instantly hoped they never gave up that swatch of skin for more metal and tech because it was a very expressive gesture, especially with that smirk.

Rory leaned against the handlebar of the trolley. “Bought them off a skin ship. I wouldn’t suggest getting a peak. I hear they’re a biter.”

The smirk became a grin. They had metal teeth. “You’re into biting?”

“Oh, I’m just transporting,” he clarified and held out a plastic card between fingers.

The augment took it, their scope eyes honing in on the card to read the prepaid credit value before their smile turned polite and disinterested. “Have a good night,” they said, stepping back.

“Yeah, you have a good night too,” Rory pushed on, into the quieter hallway leading off into arms numbered by parking spots at the station.

His cargo had been quiet since their attempt at getting rescued. They would have been better off with the mercs than the cut-throat muscle working Carina. But how could they know that? “Did you really think they’d care? You have no idea where you are, Stardust. You should be thanking me for trying to get you home.”

There were no knocks of agreement or thumps of rage this time.

Rory laughed, pushing them back to his ship.

The door opened and he finally got them back onboard, parking their dumb ass on the deck while he manually locked the ship.

When he came back to the deck, they were pushing at the lid of their box, like it might suddenly be open.

The bounty hunter laughed and shook his head, even if they couldn’t see it. “Oh no, you’re staying in there until I’m done resetting the systems controls.”

They kept thumping but he ignored them, opening a panel to get at the primary access controls for the ship. In all the cycles he’d been picking up bounties, some willing and some definitely not, this was the first time he’d lost control of his ship.

When Stardust continued to thump, he tried a command and flooded the deck with music, pleased it had worked and even more so that the beat synced up with the primer’s tantrum nicely.

[per-aspera-ad-aporia]

the bit where flint and clara fight!!!!

aaaaaa yes!!

(sorry, i'd sped through the book [i was procrastinating with it] and i retain only vague vestiges of corps uniforms and certainly-not-smiles-just-mouth-corners-turning-up. i will reread it soon)

it's very kind of you to have sent this message and i speed you on your voltaic way towards the resolution if you haven't reached it yet!

[munamania]

hm feel free to tell me ur thoughts if youd like friends but basically my friends did text abt doing dinner and i was like 'im sorry i cant tn feel free to go w/o me or lmk if you wanna do another day' and ofc i caught stupid messages back just like 'booooooooooo' 'i cant till next week at least' 'what time r u busy til eye roll' and ill be honest here i fucking lied not that i should have to even give some big explanation but i was like 'well i have class till 5 (theoretically i would) and then have a meeting that doesnt have an end time' basically pretended the one from yesterday. and then i even sent a followup like 'if you guys end up just hanging out at someones place or you grab drinks or anything ill try to stop by later on' and the one sends a message back like 'do you think if we planned on a day next week you could commit to that?' fucking condescending as hell and to that i literally said 'Hm well idk' and then they were just like 'No days next week?' 'just wondering i mean bc maybe the three of us can just go and then we can plan on something lower commitment some other time.' fuck you first of all. and then a 'i get it if it's too last minute!' from my one friend um so thanks to her i guess and i sent smth kinda snarky back like 'well it's not like we had an actual commitment for any day but by all means go and ill certainly try to carve time out in my schedule some other time yeah!' and ive had the notifs muted bc i just dont want to deal with it rn. why am i not allowed to not be available why am i automatically some flaky low commitment bitch who has to be constantly berated in the chat while yall also ignore pretty much everything i say. im not doing that. and this just confirms my suspicions that they already see me in a certain way why should i have to bother when i HAVE still tried to see them and at least offer alternatives when i cant make it to things. also the semester just started like

[yardsards]

adulthood is just visiting ur friends, saying "damn bitch, you live like this?" (affectionate) and aggressively helping them clean up while they politely tell you that you don't have to do that. and then having friends do that to you when they visit your apartment.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

like hearing an autistic person talking abt realizing like "oh so friendships for some ppl don't involve always having to maintain a performance" and going damn right yeah and now "oh so friendships for some ppl involve their getting to expect that the other ppl will be interested in them and provide support" like huh go figure. more surprising like oh right i guess i always felt like interactions require maintaining a performance that can only go wrong (generally true; like there's no "well you're ruining things by keeping ppl from being the Real You so just Be Yourself" like a] masking isn't Real or done by Yourself or b] like if you unmask people like you now & ableism is over, b/c it was your fault for reacting to it in the first place) & thus also that i should be interested & provide support but not expect that in turn / the sense as well that you are/can only come up short and have things to make up for anyways while lucky whoever's even providing the time of day

then it's always an Exercise to go "oh right well beyond going [my god autistic character] the whole time, what Things re: winston billions was i still not quite seeing as as unusual / Not Good as they are. even for billions" like sure noticing he's holding on to the hopes of some kind of positive / actual relationship w/rian for like year 950 & this manifesting with the Determined Friendliness but zooming in like oh i guess that adamant amicability sure involves winston suppressing a negative reaction to negative treatment and yet still hoping for an improvement, which like, was always Possible but a) hinged on rian simply choosing to change how she regards/treats him (or someone intervening to change the situation) & b) apparently is not going to happen. thinking like yeah that's very Friendly of him. and knowing like man winston's sure still trying to keep this friendliness offer open for like two years. but also now more specifically going like Yeah and pretty fucked then that his baseline expectations don't include that Mutual Interest & Support (though someone being abusive is definitely interested just not in any good ways. and certainly not (actually) supportive)

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Temporary luck | Feeding Habits

The last time he saw Harrison, he knew they would not see each other for a very long time after. Sun haloed him. Pinged off his eyes so they shone like gemstones. The earring he’d gifted him from his mother’s collection twirled, mindless, like the surface of a mirror ball. He didn’t forget that image—his lover a painting of the sun, an offering he was lucky to have, if only temporary. As he gapes at the face of the fire, he doesn’t forget that feeling—the warmth not against his skin, but in the pith of his throat, jittering like the wings of a hummingbird.

satan himself has tempted me to commit atrocities (re-read feeding habits 2020) and sometimes there are gems lol

proof that lonan is a hopeless romantic <3

also let’s ignore the context of this scene lmaoooo yayyy pretty harrison description woohoooo totally not an upsetting moment at all noooo

[gazelessmenagerie]

No one:

me, waking up bc for some reason the heater is up and I am sweating to have to get up and crack open the window: .... The reason I focus hard on the personal struggles and inner turmoil of Broly is just because that’s how I see his character aside from the terrifying psycho he is when all hell breaks loose from him after years of what could be trauma. Yeah everyone loves his lssj form but fuck if i don’t like seeing what could possibly go on beneath the surface. What aspects could be warped or driven to be a certain way because its all he ever knew and how would it affect him when small changes are coaxed into him through repeated interactions and slowly getting used to having someone around that he legitimately becomes accustomed to.

another part of my brain: ... is this also an elaborate way to say I have no goddamn idea what to do with the lssj because in my head, he can basically obliterate just about anything? yes. yes it is. the only valid way I can see him actually getting into trouble outside of powerful transformations by capable individuals or their own power alone is actually Himself because his Anger is so prevalent that it stresses him out without the aid of that suppression device forcing him to calm down (or having certain people in some cases that manage to have enough of a bond to him that he is capable of calming down to their efforts or ways they employ). Honestly, what sort of after effects could happen to him being used to this device and the feelings it forced upon and then suddenly getting his freedom away from it? The bastard’s more intelligent than he lets on and its evident through watching him fight with what could very well just be ambush tactics and throwing his weight around as what he probably learned from growing up watching other predatory animals as he grew into power.

The Heehoo part of my brain: ... Him being a fucking psycho is hot but lmfao I don’t think I can use it much outside of plotted threads or drabbles. I blame some artists for capturing that side of him so well in illustrative mediums and I hope to one day get to that level but in a literary sense (along with artistic but that’s already a bit of a work in progress)

My body: can the cold air get in here faster? sweating up a damn storm from the heater being too high.

[quitedisastrous]

almond milk just tastes like cereal milk to me. i mean it's because the only cereal i've regularly eaten in the last while is honey bunches of oats but nevertheless

[infiniteseriesofhalfways]

Does anybody have good podcast recs? Preferably easy to follow and/or light hearted? I've been listening to music at work but i feeel like i might need something a little more focus grabbing this week. Plus I've just been wanting to listen to something new anyhow.

[morphone]

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