#// THE PENNY DROPPED (NO PUN INTENDED) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theinvisiblewoman73 · 2 months ago

Text

?? If anyone can tell me how to imbed the links to the last chapters and AO3 I would be forever grateful ☺️??

Joel Miller x Female reader

“Cold out there today,” he said, rubbing his hands together. Joel offered him a cup of coffee which he gratefully accepted, cupping his hands round the steaming cup. “Nice though. Sun’s out.” Joel looked out of the kitchen window and saw the low winter sun, hazy through the morning frost. It was going to be a clear day, no wind, which made patrol simpler. On days like this it was easier to see people coming, easier to make out sounds around you. Windy days were the worst, the noise muffling the approach of feet, so you had to be on constant guard, monitoring all around you. Those were the days he came back exhausted, his head pounding.

The two men drank in companionable silence for a few moments until Tommy spoke.

“Hey, I forgot, is Ellie here? Rhonda had her baby. I said I’d let her know.” Joel looked at him in confusion. Did they know anyone called Rhonda? Someone who was having a baby? Tommy realised that he didn’t have a clue what he was talking about and just shook his head, chuckling.

“Rhonda has four legs, Joel,” he laughed, “And brays like a……?” Joel rolled his eyes.

“A donkey,” he said, remembering that Ellie had made Tommy promise to let her know when the foal was born.

“Jesus, Joel,” Tommy chuckled, “I know you don’t remember anyone’s name, but you’re usually pretty good with the animals.” He pushed himself up from the chair where he’d been having his coffee and put the mug into the sink, wandering off into the living room. Joel followed and went to the foot of the stairs.

“Ellie!” he yelled, “Tommy’s here!” There was a pause and then the sound of feet on the floor above and Ellie rounded the corner and came bouncing down the stairs.

“Hey, Trouble,” Tommy said, “Thought you’d like to know that Rhonda had her foal last night.”

“Awesome!” Ellie exclaimed. “What is it? Can I see it?” She was almost breathless with excitement.

“Lacey says you can go and take a peek, it’s a female, but you can’t pet her til she’s a few days old,” Tommy told her, “Has to bond with the mother.” Ellie nodded.

“Wow a baby donkey,” she whispered to herself and then seemed to think of something. “Hey Joel,” she said, looking at him, a serious look on her face, “You should go and see it.” He looked at her, wondering why she was saying that. He wasn’t the type to coo over baby animals. Then the penny dropped. Her face lit up.

“No,” he said sternly, shaking his head and looking at her with a raised eyebrow. But stopping her now would take an army.

“Aw, c’mon,” she said, nudging him in the arm, “You might get a kick out of it.” He continued to stare at her until a smile broke out on his face, as it always did now with anything out of No Pun Intended. The irritation he put on was all part of the game, something that the two of them had developed somewhere along the long drive to Kansas City and what came after.

The first time Ellie had got the tattered copy of that book out of her backpack he hadn’t had a clue what was in it. She was suddenly so excited, so childlike, that for a moment he felt some empathy for her. It was like when she had goofed around in the flooded hotel foyer, ringing the bell and putting on a posh voice. He’d been pulled along by her silliness, so much so that when she’d gasped in fright, he’d rushed over, not caring how much she’d irritated him so far. When he saw there was no danger - just a skeleton in the water - he retreated back into himself. Because he didn’t want any sort of camaraderie with this girl. Because he couldn’t.

But somewhere along the way, he had laughed at one of the puns, whether in Kansas or after, he couldn’t remember. And when they got back to Jackson, the book had been strengthened with tape and cherished even more - and the jokes seemed to weave themselves into the fabric of their lives there, while being the reminder of something only they shared. No one else could know what they’d been through on that journey. The book reminded them of that.

“You can’t escape Will Livingston,” Ellie reminded him as well.

“More’s the pity,” he grumbled, winking at her. Then he grabbed his coat and backpack and reminded her to do her homework before her lessons that afternoon. He and Tommy headed out the door.

———

It was a crisp, frosty morning. One of those days when the world seemed to be frozen in place, but somehow alive. Tentative, suspended, the sun barely warming through, but trying. It was quiet and still on the streets of Jackson, but you loved it at this time of the day because you could walk the streets alone, the few people about were headed somewhere and had no intention of stopping to pass the time of day with you.

At this hour, the pavements were deserted, and you could wander along, look at the storefronts and buildings, and try and get your bearings. You knew it would probably be different come the spring and summer, but for now, the cold weather kept most Jacksonites indoors, leaving the place free for you to explore. Which was a relief, because having to lower your gaze and walk past people without replying would never get any easier no matter how long you had to do it.

It pained you every time. Every single time. Seeing someone approach, the urge to engage in a greeting or a short exchange and yet unable to, no matter what you wanted. And then seeing the look on their faces - anything from pity to exasperation to dismay. That would never get easier either. The humiliation of that would never fade.

You decided to focus on enjoying being outside before you headed back to the house to probably hide away for the rest of the day. As you walked along you saw things you’d never have imagined two months ago; beauty, clean streets, even hanging baskets and troughs ready for the Spring. That kind of stability and planning seemed amazing to you now. That this town was already planning what would happen in the year to follow, not just existing from day to day, from one meal to the next.

At that thought, a wave of nausea washed over you and you stood still for a moment to calm yourself. But your breath came shallow and hot. Five things you can see, you remembered, and looked up and around. Snow, icicles sculpted to a water pipe, a flag hanging limply from its pole, the massive dark, snow-covered mountain dominating the horizon and the wooden storefronts that made you feel like you were on the set of a western.

Four things you can hear. The drips from the icicle landing in a bucket of thawing water, birds calling from the rooftops, footsteps on the other side of the street and in the distance the pock pock of someone chopping wood. Better. That was better.

You carried on walking, concentrating on the storefronts you passed, taking in everything you saw. This regular foray along the streets of Jackson had quickly become something of a ritual, even in the short time you had been there. There was just so much to take in, almost too much to comprehend for someone who had spent the last years with nothing. You knew you weren’t the only one. This experience must be the same for most people who were taken into the town. Unlike them however, you had to do all of the acclimatisation by yourself. And it took time.

At first you had stuck to the side roads and the residential areas. The houses beyond the Main Street were beautiful, some even dating back to the end of the 19th century when Jackson had started to flourish. They were as well maintained as they could be, even despite a lack of materials and some had beautiful stained glass windows on the main upper landings as was the fashion then. That these had survived when almost nothing else in the world had was a constant source of solace for you and you walked the route along past these houses like a liturgy, like you were counting off the beads on a rosary. The stained glass sunrise, the tree, the mountain, they were all there on your walk.

Then you had decided to try the main street. You had been on it a few times with some of the others, but it had always been busy and there had been something to buy or find. You’d been more worried about staying with the group than looking around and you wanted to see things in peace and at a slower pace.

Now you had time to look at things, to observe, and this was what you enjoyed doing while you walked. This time your eye was drawn to the cobbler’s workshop. Before the outbreak, jobs like this had been scarce, the world in thrall to a throwaway culture. Now this was once again a valued trade and the workshop was a large one.

Although it was still early and the place was closed, you could still look at the window display and see inside. Even the idea of having a window display was something you never thought you’d see again. It was a lifetime since there had been enough of anything to simply use it for decorative purposes. But Jackson could do this, could be a town like in the past, even if sometimes you wondered if it was all pretence, if it would all somehow be swept away or if a curtain would suddenly be drawn across everything, like it had been once before.

One thing that gave you pleasure was to look at the objects in front of you, or the parts of a house, or the trees in the town, and name them, describe them, if only in your head. Because the words were there, the names and the colours and the textures and the feelings they created were there inside you, even if they refused to come out. And standing there, listing what you saw and the colours that they held made you feel like you weren’t dying inside, even though sometimes you felt your outward persona was fading away.

A soft piece of worked leather, a sharp object for making holes in the fabric, a worn wooden anvil, probably too dented and chipped to be of use now, single shoes missing a partner but displayed in a semi circle to show what the cobbler could offer. This is what you saw in the window. The suede underside of the leather off-cut was soft and bobbled, the wood of the anvil smooth and shiny despite its age. Describing, noticing these things made you calm, made you feel like words were yours again.

And there in the window, not part of the display, looking in but on the outside, was you, was your reflection. You looked into your eyes for a while, not trying to describe what you saw there, because you knew your own reflection, but attempting to put into words, even to yourself, what was going on inside you. But it was impossible. Because all you could think of was that you were trapped. Trapped inside yourself. And out here in the open you couldn’t even talk to yourself, as you could in the isolation of your room. This isn’t me you thought. And yet it was you right now. This was your reality.

It was then, though, that you glimpsed a figure approaching along the street with a determined gait and you glanced quickly to see Janine coming towards you. She was some sort of pastor, from the church organisation they had in the town. You didn’t quite understand what religion it was and you didn’t care: you hadn’t been brought up practising a religion and you sure as hell weren’t going to start now. She’d been round to the house a couple of times, inviting you all to the church services, but you had the feeling that she saw you as some sort of charity case, someone that she could take under her wing, and the thought of that made you shudder.

You tried to pretend you hadn’t noticed her but it was too late: she had seen you, and she waved her hand and shouted a greeting to get your attention. Turning your back to the window and the reflection and the woman coming along the pavement towards you, you put your head down and step quickly into the road to cross over but didn’t see the pair of horses until it was too late.

———

Joel and Tommy had been just going through the plan for that morning’s patrol when he saw something out of the corner of his eye and felt Lucy rear up, whinnying. He threw the reigns out of his hands so as not to pull her with him and gripped down with his thighs, tipping forward into her neck. He was aware of Tommy talking his own horse down and as Lucy calmed, snorting and jogging her feet, he looked around and saw you there in front of him, like a statue, shoulders hunched, not looking at him.

“You goddam idiot!” he yelled, “Why don’t you fucking look where you’re going?” He was livid. He might have been thrown, Lucy might have stumbled and twisted an ankle, neither scenario a happy one for an isolated town with limited medical supplies.

You didn’t look at him but he saw you flinch visibly. Tommy had already dismounted and was walking towards you, looking at him with a calm the fuck down look on his face, but Joel just muttered another expletive under his breath, putting his hands back to Lucy’s neck, patting her and mumbling soft words of comfort.

Tommy reached you and put his hands out gently. Joel saw you raise your head to look at his brother, but you didn’t turn towards him, the one you’d nearly knocked off his horse. He rolled his eyes.

“Hey, it’s ok,” Tommy said, kindly, “No harm done.” Joel huffed in indignation.

“Yeah, right, no harm done. Just nearly knocked me off my fucking horse,” he snapped. Tommy looked at him again, his hands out in supplication.

“For the love of Christ, Joel, it was an accident!” he said, widening his eyes at him to tell him to let it go. Joel rolled his eyes and nudged his heels into Lucy, leading her away from the two of them. He heard Tommy speak to you again and then a few moments later the sound of Tommy bringing Apollo up alongside him. He didn’t turn, didn’t speak. There was silence for a moment but Joel knew his brother wouldn’t let it go.

“Jesus, man….” Tommy began, but Joel cut him off.

“Don’t wanna hear it,” he snapped. Most would have taken that as a warning, but Tommy was one of the only people who knew he could stand up to his brother.

“It was a fucking accident, man,” he said, his tone conciliatory. “You think these people have been around civilisation recently?” But Joel was angry. And sometimes that anger got a way from his control.

“So I’m supposed to take the fall for every fucking retard, am I?” he said, rounding on Tommy as he rode next to him.

“Woah….dude,” was all his brother could manage. Joel knew he’d been a jerk but doubled down.

“She’s a mute and probably deaf and whatever,” he grumbled. Tommy was silent for a moment and then spoke up again.

“She can speak Joel,” he said quietly. Joel looked at him in surprise.

“How the hell do you know?” he asked.

“Maria told me. She asked her if she was deaf and she shook her head. Nodded when she asked her if she could speak.” He paused. “She just doesn’t. Can’t.”

Joel was silent.

“Must have been through some shit, don’t you think?” Tommy asked gently. Joel raised an eyebrow.

“What? So just because she’s been through some shit, that gives her the right to walk around with her fucking trauma for everyone to see? Everyone to tiptoe around her? What if we all did that?”

They had reached the main gate of the city. Guards on the walls did a last check and the bolts were slid back so the gates could be opened. The men walked their horses out and heard the clang of the gates closing behind them. There was a long pause.

“You don’t think you walk around with your trauma?” Tommy asked, “You don’t think you wear your past on your face?” And Joel knew it wasn’t an accusation. Knew that Tommy would never use his past that way. It hurt nonetheless, and Joel just looked at him.

“What are you talking about?” he muttered; wished that he could put an end to the conversation.

Tommy raised his eyebrows, looked right back at him. Joel had never felt so vulnerable as he did in that moment, so utterly flayed bare. And it wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

“Fuck you!” he said and drove his heels into Lucy’s sides and urged the horse forward. Tommy was right behind him of course. He wouldn’t go off on his own, that was dangerous and against the patrol rules. But that didn’t mean he had to speak to him. Tommy could go to hell as far as he was concerned.

———

Back at the house you rushed up the stairs, not even stopping to see if anyone was around. Once inside your room, you closed the door and leant your back against it, while wave after wave of humiliation coursed through you.

It was times like this that you wondered how you could go on, what the point was of being here in safety if you still couldn’t bloody speak. You saw it all again in your head, walking blindly into the road, seeing the horse rear up in front of you. The rider was the man you’d seen at the market with that kind girl. You couldn’t have picked a worse person to upset. You cringed, hearing the anger in that man’s voice again. The shame of not being able to apologise, the humiliation of his ire, only made worse by the other guy, treating you like some sort of child, unable to even say a word to him. Then you realised it was Maria’s husband and he’d probably tell her about it later. Ugh, it was so embarrassing.

You hadn’t even been able to look at the man on the horse, but you could feel the disdain in his voice. When he had turned his horse away and left, you’d looked at his partner again, hoping he could appreciate your gratitude, but your only thought had been to escape, to get back to your room.

And so you had fled, like some meek little mouse. Even though that wasn’t who you were. You heard Janine calling to you but carried on. What was the point of furthering your humiliation by having that woman witter on about what had happened? It was still early morning but you knew that you would probably spend the rest of the day in your room.

#fluff #fanfiction #slow burn #fluff and angst #ellie tlou #jackson tlou #joel miller #joel needs a hug #post outbreak joel #post traumatic stress disorder #traumatic mutism #situational mutism #selective mutism #joel x reader #mention of death #mention of murder

3 notes · View notes

littlemisssquiggles · 2 years ago

Text

Little’s True Purpose

What if…Little will be the one to be eaten by the Jabberwalker, never ever realizing its purpose?

Don’t get me wrong. This squiggle meister is quite fond of Little. Just call me a devote Little stan, if you will. I just think it's neat.

But as much as I’d love for this adorable baby mouse to survive V9 and become a permanent animal companion to Ruby and her friends back on Remnant, I feel like that would be too much wishful thinking.

I feel like we’re more likely to see the dormouse be put to rest permanently in some shape or form.

Remember how Little was explaining to Ruby at the beginning of the volume that it was still pretty young and needed to still find or figure out its purpose in the Ever After?

Imagine if…Little will end up “dying” prematurely at some point later in the story; never learning what its purpose was. Or perhaps, more fittingly, Little will go out courageously with the realization that its purpose was to be the friend that Ruby needed in order to remember her purpose; doing everything in its power to help our little red rose return safely to her home in Remnant with her team; no matter the cost even at the expense of its own existence.

Not like Ruby needs yet another favourable friend of hers to die for her sake. Gods know she’s got enough of those already. Nevertheless, given what the Curious Cat mentioned in the recent episode about how those consumed by the Jabberwalker will never ascend, I feel like that little lore drop will come to fruition at some point in the narrative.

If not as a clear foreshadow to the Curious Cat’s death then perhaps Little’s. All in all, either one or both of these fateful animal companions from the Ever After are gonna get got by the time V9 concludes. But inspite of this, I also wish to believe that the deaths of the Curious Cat and Little will hold meaning.

I feel like we could potentially see a moment where the Jabberwalker goes to eat Ruby only for Little to sacrifice itself in her place. If not that then perhaps a wicked Neo will feed Little to one of her faux Jabberwalkers as a way of breaking Ruby by making her believe that Little had been murdered---just like Penny and her mother.

It will genuinely be freaking tragic if Little’s sole purpose for being in the story of V9 is to be yet another ally for Ruby to tragically lose in the battle of good vs evil.

Just as much as it would be tragic if Little’s death is what causes Ruby to finally reach her breaking point while in the Ever After.

Just another bad ending to a chapter of her life despite being in a literal fairy tale world as the Ever After. Different world. Same heartache.

That would simply suck if it became canon.

Again, I do not want Little to die. I just feel like there is more to this little mouse’s existence than the story is letting on. Up until this point, Little has done…well very little to help drive the story forward for RWBY. No pun intended. Despite being a tiny bundle of cuteness and helping RWBY out a handful of times, admittedly Little hasn’t done much to really cement its reason for joining RWBY on their journey, compared to a character like the Curious Cat.

Between the cat and the mouse, the Cat has done more for our four heroines compared to Little. Heck---one of the running gags is that Little, being the Dormouse character tends to be asleep most of the time which begs the question of why the showrunners felt they needed two animal companions for RWBY when it could’ve worked with just one. Mainly just the Curious Cat.

While it described itself as a guide to Ruby when questioned by the mysterious Blacksmith, the show has yet to answer the question of why Little?

Why does Little need to be there? What is Little’s purpose? It’s true purpose?

Is it just gonna be used as another likeable friend for our heroes to lose OR…perhaps Little will be revealed to be the key to Ruby and her friends getting to the tree and returning to Remnant?

Perhaps, unknowingly, Little is connected to the Tree our heroes are desperately searching for or is the very physical embodiment of the Tree itself?

Who knows?

I guess only time will tell.

As of now, we are halfway through the volume and with the recent revelation, things are only just getting started.

If Little’s purpose is truly significant, it’ll show itself in the remaining five episodes. So let’s see how things play out.

~LMS (2023)

#squiggles talks: rwby #rwby #rwby volume 9 #rwby little #rwby volume 9 spoilers #rwby theories #rwby volume 9 theories #ruby rose

22 notes · View notes

turbo-toast · 1 year ago

Note

ONE MORE ONE MORE! Varrett Vild Vickers (I am so sorry)

Why are you sorry o.o

First impression

This is a guy living his best life with what he has. Everyday a dance macabre, but after a long time in the space zombie apocalypse I guess you don't notice as much.

Impression now

He's thoroughly impressed me with his willingness to immediately throw down and defend someone he barely knows just because she seems to be in distress, and then even when he learns she might be potentially super dangerous, he'll still exchange bullets with people going after her.

He's not perfect, far from it, but he's principled, hell-bent on being the good guy (and not disappointing his mom, and living up to the guy Gabriel thinks of him as), and if he's in for a penny, he's in for a pound. Uh, whether a pun was intended depends on reader discretion.

Favorite moment

Him dropping everything to rescue Fi from kidnappers. At his mom's birthday party. What a guy.

Idea for a story

Um. That's your job, Taff. But seriously, I think I'd first need to see him in a somewhat stable state before I could think of one. Y'know, like the state before the call of adventure.

Unpopular opinion

His one flaw that I don't really gel with is probably the slight dissonance between him being a pretty rebellious type I read as questioning what he's told basically all the time, and him believing scary stories about Pagans and Cad'his wholesale. It's a very human flaw, but it kinda makes me go ???

Favorite relationship

Him and SIN. He's usually so confident - until SIN strolls into the picture. I like the way she can just toy with him.

Favorite headcanon

I'm honestly struggling to come up with a facet of him that you haven't already covered in canon. But maybe my favorite thing about him... The level of care he not only puts into his relationships with his favorite people, but also his vehicles? They're kinda his lifeline, so it's kind of obvious, but to most I guess they'd just be tools. Not to V, though.

#Varrett Vild Vickers #Aphelion #ask meme

2 notes · View notes

seitmai · 5 months ago

Text

Many thoughts...under the cut

Over the years he’d built up a curated collection crowd-pleasers for occasions just like this. Part peacocking, part coping. While he’s never been the type to shy away from being the center of attention, he’d also found it was easier to breathe in the spotlight. Because with everyone’s eyes on him, it was impossible to feel alone.

This is do Bradley

But Bradley still ends his impromptu sets the same way he always has, with Jerry Lee Lewis. Only now he gets to sing it directly to the girl who’d given him the sheet music to the song in the first place.

That's so sweet 🥰

He knows that look in your eyes as you shake out of his grip. You aren’t just annoyed, you’re pissed. He knows you want for him to let it go. To back off. And he’s about to- for you- because you want him to. But then he sees the guy’s eyes drop down to the exposed skin of your chest- to that bow between your breasts- and smirks. It’s a look so filthy that even Bradley feels dirty. He operates out of instinct. Stretching his arm in front of you, he purposefully pushes you back behind him to where he knows Seresin is standing close by, trusting that his friend will move you out of the way.

🥴🥴🥴

He makes a mental note to try and look up the man’s supervising officer. And if he can’t find them on his own, he’ll ask Mav to help.

Oh that guy won't know what hit him when is supervising officer calls him up on it 🤭

Bradley takes a moment to apologize to Penny. He avoids looking directly in her eyes, not wanting to see the disappointment he’s sure is there.

Ohh if I know one thing, then it's that Penny’s look in that moment is the most disappointed look ever

Jake lifts his hand up at about your height. “About this tall? Great smile? Dating a man that’s clearly punching?” He chuckles to himself. “No pun intended.” Those dimples of his are more grating than usual.

He's playing with fire here

She shrugs. “I’m surprised she didn’t punch you, I probably would have.”

Ohh she would have, no hesitation or holding back lol

“All I’m saying is I think she was making herself pretty clear, but you chose not to hear her and did what you wanted anyways.” His teeth clench together as a rock lands hard in his stomach. “And from the sound of it, she wanted to handle it her own way.” “Yeah, but…” You’re his, he wants to say, but holds back at the risk of sounding like the jealous boyfriend Nat thinks he’s being. Except he wasn’t being jealous, he just wanted to protect you. “No buts, Rooster. You fucked up.”

Oh he fucked up SO bad

Nat has always been a straightshooter. It was one of the things he’s always appreciated most about her, that and her keen ability to read people.

God I love Nat

“Seriously?” you laugh bitterly, still refusing to look at him. “You’re seriously going to ignore me right now too? I said I don’t want to talk right now.”

Wrong turn buddy, wrong turn...

“But that’s the thing, Rooster! You didn’t have my back in there,” you argue, stepping forward so you’re toe to toe with him. Your use of his callsign again chafes against his ears like sandpaper. “All you did was manhandle me out of the way to get at him and throw fists. I mean, Mav and Hondo would have let it slide if they’d been there to see that. But what about Cyclone? Would he? Why would you put your career at risk like that? What were you even thinking?” You’re looking at him like you don’t know him, and he hates it. Because you’re the person who knows him best.

Damn this is rough, but he really needed to hear that

“Bradley, I’m not going to hold onto something from when you were eighteen and hurting and heartbroken.” Your voice catches with emotion. “But tonight? Tonight, you made me feel small. And you’re the very last person I thought who’d ever make me feel that way.”

💔💔💔

“You can be mad at me, kid,” Bradley murmurs, “But just let me hold you.” He needs to know that you’ll still let him. That you still want him. Bradley reaches out for you again and this time you let him pull you into his chest. And when you thread your arms around his torso and hold him just as tight that knot in his stomach loosens. He rests his chin on your head and releases a sigh. With you in his arms, he feels like his feet are finally back on solid ground.

🥺🥺🥺

“Sweet girl, why are you crying? I know you. Why does it feel like there’s more to this than just me being an idiot?” he asks, quietly. It still feels so fragile between the two of you.

They know each other so well 🥹

Bradley swallows hard. That tonight reminded you of the low points in your past relationship is hard for him to hear. And knowing why, makes it even worse.

But this probably will serve as the biggest reminder from Bradley to never pull some shit like that again

A soft smile coasts over your pretty face. “They are.” He loves the warm way you’re looking at him right now, tender and fond. “And that’s what I’m talking about. You show me all the ways you know me because you care about me and want to make me happy. You don’t treat me like I’m an accessory in your life. I mean, I didn’t feel like I could even hang art on the walls of the apartment I paid half the rent for without Jack having an opinion on it. And here you are letting me bring over kitchen towels and plants for you, and we don’t even live together yet.”

They are perfect for each other 🥰

“Plus, you taught me how to throw a punch, remember? I’m pretty sure I broke a guy’s nose one time,” you grin. “Atta girl,” he says with pride. It’s so much lighter between the two of you now. He takes a couple step back, letting go of you and giving you a not-so-subtle onceover. “Ok, hot shot, show me what you got.” Beckoning you over with both hands.

Nothing better than a proud boyfriend, special point for it being proud about his girl throwing a punch 🤭

He grins. “He’s not wrong. You’re way out of my league.” You softly shake your head at him. “I’m just right for you. And you’re just right for me.”

🥰🥰🥰

He sees the moment the guy fucks up and oversteps, because your eyebrows shoot up. You’re his sweet girl, but he knows the other guy is in for it when look that promises the best kind of trouble settles over your face. His favorite menace.

"His favorite menace" is my new fav pet name 😅

Bradley watches on as you lean over the counter and ring the bell with enthusiasm.

Oh yes hehehe🔔🔔🔔

“Damn. I forgot the kid is a straight hustler,” Jake says, clearly impressed. “She sure is,” Bradley grins, still looking at you, “It’s a good thing she likes you or you’d be screwed.” He pats Jake’s shoulder reassuringly, before pressing the cue into his hands.

The way I would hustle people and conspire with Penny to get the most bell rings in hahaha😂

That’s My Girl

Summary: Bradley has been looking after you for longer than he can remember. You’ve always been his favorite person. So when some guy makes an unwelcomed move on you, that last thing he’s going to do is just sit back and watch it happen.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 6.7K

Warning: language, male chauvinism, allusions to smut, some angst with a happy ending

(author's note: this is a fic is set in the 'Like I Can' universe, however it can be read on it's own!

In hindsight, Bradley should have known how rowdy the crowd at the Hard Deck was going to be tonight.

Sailors fresh off a several months long deployment were always a boisterous bunch. But Sailors fresh from a deployment during San Diego Fleet Week were a different thing entirely.

The bar is packed and humid, even with the doors and windows opened for the Pacific breeze. Penny’s old air conditioning unit might be on its last legs because Bradley’s shirt is sticking to the skin of his back. He’d nearly lost his mind when he’d seen that bead of sweat work its way down your neck and between your breasts when you’d pressed a kiss to his cheek and told him you were getting a refill and asked if he wanted anything.

Bradley really hoped you’d be up for leaving soon. He wouldn’t mind taking a dip in the pool at your apartment. Or better yet, getting you to join him for a cool shower.

It wasn’t the just the deep v of your tank top- or those sweet little embroidered flowers along the edges of it- that hand his fingers twitching to touch you. Although he liked those too.

It was that damn bow.

When Bradley had picked you up from your apartment earlier this evening and seen you wearing that, he’d given you a wolf whistle so loud it had caused your neighbor’s dog to start barking.

He’d taken advantage of your surprised laugh to back you up against your front door to get his mouth along the column of your neck. He’s always been a big picture kind of guy. And he knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until he was tugging open that bow between your breasts with his teeth.

You’d all but sighed his name as your fingers tangled in his hair.

Bradley.

And just as he’d reached your collarbone, you’d pulled him back up to your mouth like you were going to kiss him and murmured Later against his lips before slipping past him, like the menace that you are, leaving him to chase after the trail of your perfume.

You knew what you were doing, that was for damn sure. He’s always been a sucker for a bow. And for you.

Bradley had more than appreciated the extra sway you’d put in your hips just for him as you walked down your hallway towards the elevator. He’d grinned to himself as he set off after you, because at the end of the night, his girlfriend would be coming home with him.

Earlier in the evening, Coyote had been fast to claim the cluster of tables that some Butterbars had left to close out their tabs, most likely onto their way to the next stop of many for the night. It was lucky timing, because there’d been a nonstop steady stream of people making their way into the unofficial designated Naval watering hole for Fleet Week. There was a mix of civilians, Naval regulars who are stationed at North Island, and the visiting Sailors dressed in their uniforms on liberty. Bradley wasn’t sure how many more bodies could be packed in until some of the worn wooden shingles of the bar started popping off.

The lively and loud atmosphere of Fleet Week was something that Bradley had typically enjoyed in the past. He liked seeing people cut loose and laugh as they swapped stories with their friends and families. And he’d been happy to do his part to add to the good times, having been pulled to the piano twice already.

So much has changed for him since getting permanently stationed in San Diego. And all for the better. That loneliness was a thing of the past, because now when he played, he was surrounded by all of his favorite people

The same one, he’s realized, who hasn’t returned back from getting her refill yet.

Bradley takes a quick glance around the corner of the bar they’d laid claim too. Bob, Fanboy, and Payback were lounging against the side of the pool table chatting up some of the visiting Sailors, since there wasn’t enough room to actually play a round without taking someone out with one of the cues. Coyote was leaning over the jukebox flipping through the albums with a pretty civilian who was out with her friends that he’d met and was clearly trying to impress. And Jake and Nat were seated with him at one of the tall round tables taking about the new Top Gun students, where your chair next to him was still empty.

Everyone was accounted for, except you.

There are so many people packed around the edges of the bar that it takes him a moment to find you. He thought maybe you’d been held up by Penny or Jimmy or some other familiar face, but he doesn’t recognize the man who standing way too close to you. But the firm press of your lips tells him everything he needs to know.

He sees the next moment playout as if it’s in slow motion. Watching as you attempt to take a step back, only for the guy to wrap his hand around your wrist to keep you from moving away. Bradley sees you glance down at that hand on you, and back up at the stranger. He knows that look in your eyes as you shake out of his grip. You aren’t just annoyed, you’re pissed.

Bradley slams his beer down and shoves his stool back.

He hears Jake curse behind him, “Oh, shit.”

Chair legs screech against the wooden floor as his friends hustle to follow after him, but he doesn’t wait for them to catch up.

There’s a trail of spilled cocktails and beers in his wake as he unapologetically weaves through the tightly crammed bodies that separate him from you. If anyone has an issue with him later, they can put a refill on his tab. But right now, his only goal is getting to you.

He doesn’t slow for a second. He just struts right up and steps in between you and the other man.

“Do we have an issue here?” he rasps, folding his arms over his chest.

Bradley takes the guy in with a hard glower. The name tape on his uniform reads Wilson. A LTJG, based on his shoulder boards, from one of the visiting ships. The man is big, but Bradley is bigger. And he outranks him. The guy might not know it yet, but it was just another thing he was planning on making crystal clear.

You put a hand on his tense shoulder. “Everything is fine.”

“It sure as shit doesn’t seem fine.” He doesn’t take his glare off of Wilson. “I think it’s time for you to go now.” He jerks his chin towards the front door.

“We’re just having a friendly conversation,” the other man drawls, sending him a wink. The implied innuendo makes Bradley’s jaw clench. There wasn’t anything “friendly” about the way he’d been using his size to keep you trapped at the bar.

The guy is trashed. There’s a blankness behind his eyes that Bradley doesn’t like the look of. He must have pre-gamed before going out because Penny and Jimmy weren’t ones to overserve.

“No, what you’re doing is paying your tab and leaving this bar.” It’s an order.

“Bradley.” You say his name like a warning. “I’m handling it.”

You pull on his shoulder, but he shrugs you off.

“No, kid, I’m handling it for you.” This asshole was Bradley’s problem to deal with now. He’d tapped in the moment he’d seen the man touch you.

“I see.” Wilson’s gaze bounces back and forth between the two of you, an oily grin appears on his face. “You’ve already got someone for tonight lined up. Damn, you didn’t waste any time did you, sweet thing?”

Anger flares hot and bright in his stomach.

“You better watch your mouth,” Bradley spits, pointing a threatening finger.

The bar around him blurs around the edges, but the man in front of him only gets sharper in focus.

You step around him and tug on his arm. From the corner of his eye, he can see you shaking your head at him. “Bradley, stop. I told you, I’ve got it.” Your voice is clipped, tight. “Let me take care of it.”

He knows you want for him to let it go. To back off. And he’s about to- for you- because you want him to. But then he sees the guy’s eyes drop down to the exposed skin of your chest- to that bow between your breasts- and smirks.

It’s a look so filthy that even Bradley feels dirty. He operates out of instinct. Stretching his arm in front of you, he purposefully pushes you back behind him to where he knows Seresin is standing close by, trusting that his friend will move you out of the way.

“A barrack bunny like you must know her way around. I don’t mind another man’s sloppy-”

For a moment, Bradley isn’t at the Hard Deck anymore. He’s standing in Jason Cameron’s kitchen, where the smell of weed and cheap alcohol and Axe hung heavy in the air.

Bradley’s fist flies on its own.

He barely registers the moment his knuckles connect with the other man’s jaw. He doesn’t see the man stumble backwards into the table behind him. He doesn’t hear the surprised gasps or the sound of glass breaking or the thud as the man hits the floor. There’s only the color red and the sound of his own ragged breathing.

When he shakes off the memory and returns back to his body, he’s almost surprised to see the broken bottles on the floor and not shards from a sliding glass door.

The next few minutes are a flurry of chaos as Wilson’s friends come and scoop him off the floor to make their exit. From the looks of irritation on their faces, it seems like this might be an all too frequent occurrence. He makes a mental note to try and look up the man’s supervising officer. And if he can’t find them on his own, he’ll ask Mav to help.

He can feel dozens of eyes on him, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Bradley takes a moment to apologize to Penny. He avoids looking directly in her eyes, not wanting to see the disappointment he’s sure is there. The adrenaline is still coursing and sparking through his body. He needs a moment to work off his anger and get his head back on straight before he comes to check on you. But he knows you’re in good hands with his friends.

Without being asked, he rights the table and stools on his way to the supply closet to grab a broom and dustpan. He takes his time meticulously picking up the bits of broken glass off the ground before he sweeps the rest of it up as he waits for his heartrate to settle back down.

When he’s done, he spots Nat and Jake sitting at the bar top and heads towards them. But for the second time tonight, you’re not where you should be.

“That was some left hook, Bradshaw,” Nat says, pinning him with a flat look over the top of her drink.

He ignores the comment. “Have either of you seen my girlfriend?”

Bradley’s hand flexes in irritation. His quick fuse is on its way to being lit again.

“Seresin,” he barks, low on patience, “Where’d she go?”

The other man lets out a low whistle and shares a look with Nat. “She left out the side patio door like ten minutes ago. Looked like she was about to spit nails too.”

“Goddammit,” he mumbles under his breath. He turns to Phoenix. “Did she really look that pissed?”

She shrugs. “I’m surprised she didn’t punch you, I probably would have.”

Bradley’s mouth drops open. “For what? For defending her?”

All he did tonight was stand up for you when someone crossed a line and tried to get physical with you. He wasn’t ashamed for doing it, he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

“But did she want you to do that?” she asks, deliberately.

He doesn’t understand why Nat is giving him a hard time about this.

“That’s my girl and that guy wasn’t listening.”

Nat lifts a pointed eyebrow at him, “Sounds familiar.”

Bradley forces out a breath. “That was different and you know it.”

“Yeah, but…” You’re his, he wants to say, but holds back at the risk of sounding like the jealous boyfriend Nat thinks he’s being. Except he wasn’t being jealous, he just wanted to protect you.

“No buts, Rooster. You fucked up.”

Nat has always been a straightshooter. It was one of the things he’s always appreciated most about her, that and her keen ability to read people. He trusted her judgement. And if she feels this way, even if he didn’t necessarily agree with it, then the chances are very high that you do too.

“Shit.”

“Yeah, ‘shit’. Now go fix it.” She pats his shoulder once, and then gives him a shove to the side door they’d seen you leave from.

It’s cooler outside.

The ocean breeze feels good on his hot, sticky skin. Bradley feels like he can breathe a little easier without all those people milling around him.

You’re not hard to spot. To anyone else you’d a solidary figure facing the ocean, but he’d know the shape of you anywhere.

From what Seresin said, Bradley had figured you’d be half way down the beach. He’d been planning just to follow the trail of steam to find you. But you’re still as a statue with your arms wrapped around yourself as you stare out at the inky waves.

The noise from the bar is muffled inside the walls of the Hard Deck, but still slips out from the windows that are cracked open and follows him as he walks towards you. The sand shifts beneath his shoes with every step he takes. The tunes from Penny’s jukebox get carried away on the wind and are replaced with the gentle roar of the waves as he approaches you.

The days are getting longer and dusk is rolling in. The sun is hanging low in the sky. Not quite set, but well on its way. He’d love nothing more than to pull you into his lap in one of the Adirondack chairs to watch the last glimmering moments of golden hour with you in his arms. But knows that’s probably not in the cards for tonight.

The two of you have had fights before. Usually over stupid, inconsequential things. Arguing with you feels different now than when it did when you were just friends. Now that you’re his girlfriend, it feels like there’s more at stake. He knew he’d never forgive himself if he fumbled the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

Bradley wants to skip over this part to where the two of you are back on the same page. He wants to skip to the part where he gets to see your dimples and hear you laugh.

He stops just a few feet behind you. He knows you know he’s there, in that uncanny way you’ve always been able to sense him. The minutes tick by as he stands there and waits for you to acknowledge him. Or to turn around and shoot him that withering glare of yours. He’d take anything other than your silence.

But you don’t.

You give him nothing, which is almost worse.

It feels like a standoff.

He folds first.

“Sweet girl,” Bradley says, with a resigned sigh.

He doesn’t miss the way your whole body tenses at the sound of his voice.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now, Rooster.”

The way you say his callsign lands like a punch in the gut.

You’re only standing a few feet away from him, but it feels like the two of you are miles apart.

“C’mon, kid, that asshole is gone now. Come back inside.”

“Seriously?” you laugh bitterly, still refusing to look at him. “You’re seriously going to ignore me right now too? I said I don’t want to talk right now.”

He feels his jaw tick. “Look, I’m sorry,” he starts, still not feeling sorry in the least, “But-”

You put a hand up and whirl on him, shaking your head in disbelief. The thunderous look on your face would have a lesser man taking a step back, instead Bradley steels his spine and digs his feet into the sand.

“I really don’t want to hear it. I don’t think I’ve ever been this mad at you,” you fume. “Not even in high school when you got in that stupid fucking fight at that Homecoming party when I had to take you to the hospital.”

He presses his lips together firmly. There was a time and place for a conversation about that night, the one where he’d earned the scars on his face, but it wasn’t here and now. It was a secret he’d kept to himself for nearly two decades, the only other person who’d known the full story was his mom. But telling you about it now would only make things worse.

You continue, like a freight train without brakes, “And you’d been drunk then. Not that that excuses anything. But you’ve had, what? Two beers tonight?” When you lift your eyebrows at him expectantly, he nods curtly in confirmation. “So tell me what the hell just happened in there?”

He swears that sharp flash of your eyes could cut glass. A lick of heat bursts behind his sternum. Hot and fierce.

“He wasn’t backing off,” Bradley grits out, trying to summon the patience he doesn’t have. “What was I supposed to do? Give him a pat on the back and let him keep hitting on my girlfriend?” You scoff and he feels his pulse kick up in his throat. “I have always had your back, and I will always have your back.”

Bradley doesn’t understand why you don’t seem to understand that he’d do anything for you. He’s been looking out for you since your bike handlebars had iridescent tassels streaming from them, and if he has his way he’ll be looking out for you until his number is up.

You’re looking at him like you don’t know him, and he hates it. Because you’re the person who knows him best.

He runs a hand through his hair in agitation. He’s been trying to tame his temper, that caged animal that paced within the confines of the ribs in his chest. But his anger and frustration has been feeding off of yours, meeting it measure for measure.

“I wasn’t. I wasn’t thinking,” Bradley explodes, flinging his arms out to the side. “I’m not going to stop and make a damn pros and cons list while I watch some asshole being disrespectful and getting physical with you. It’s not going to happen, kid.”

“And I told you that I had it handled!” you exclaim.

The sound of the waves gets lost in the way both of your voices are raising with each and every parry in the verbal fencing match you’ve found yourselves in. This has escalated quicker than he ever could have expected, and all he wants is to find himself back on the same page with you.

“How am I the bad guy in all of this right now?”

“Don’t you get it? I’m not mad about you wanting you to be there for me, I’m mad about how you went about it. You literally pushed me out of the way and passed off to Jake, like my voice and feelings in that moment didn’t matter to you. Like you didn’t care about what I wanted. You have never treated me like that before.”

Guilt makes his stomach churn.

“You and I both know that’s not true,” he replies. It’s an uncomfortable truth.

That dark period after his mom died and how he’d treated you still haunted him sometimes. When he’d try to set fire to all the bridges around him, including his friendship with you. He hadn’t been worth knowing back then, but you’d never given up on him. He remembers it like it was yesterday, he’s never forgotten it. On the nights he couldn’t sleep, it was one of the many things that played out behind his eyelids like a highlight reel of all his worst moments.

Your eyebrows pinch together in confusion. He sees the moment it clicks for you because the fire that had been blazing behind those eyes he knows so well transforms into something softer. Something sadder.

He can’t even enjoy hearing you say his name again, because you look so disappointed in him. The two of you stand there staring at each other, searching each other’s eyes as the waves rolling in along the shore fill the silence.

The way your lower lip wobbles steals the fight right out of him. All that righteous indignation that had been whirling in his chest is gone quicker than it came over him at the sight of the tears welling up along your lower lash line.

He’d let you down back then. And he’d let you down tonight too. He feels like he’s broken a promise to you, one he’d made with himself a longtime ago. Bradley wants to be the man whose shoulders you could lean on, the one you trusted to bet there to support you. He never thought he’d be the guy who makes you cry.

Bradley says your name tenderly. Every single letter of it is precious to him because you’re the most important person in the world to him.

The single tear that escapes the corner of your eye and rolls down your face cracks his chest wide open.

He holds out his hand for you, but you half-heartedly bat it away.

“No, I’m still mad at you,” you say, feebly. It’s unconvincing at best.

“You can be mad at me, kid,” Bradley murmurs, “But just let me hold you.”

He needs to know that you’ll still let him. That you still want him.

Bradley reaches out for you again and this time you let him pull you into his chest. And when you thread your arms around his torso and hold him just as tight that knot in his stomach loosens. He rests his chin on your head and releases a sigh. With you in his arms, he feels like his feet are finally back on solid ground.

He knows he owes you an apology, a real one this time. He knows that he’s fucked up, he understands where he went wrong. But he can’t shake the feeling that he feels like he’s missing something, that there’s another reason playing into why you’re so upset.

Every one of your quiet sniffles twists the knife that’s lodged itself between his ribs just a bit more each time.

He doesn’t know how long the two of you stand there wrapped up in each other, as he runs his hand up and down your back. There’s more to discuss, but he doesn’t rush you. He’ll hold you for as long as you need him to.

When you pull away, only far enough to look up at him, he takes the opportunity to gently cup your face in his hands. His thumb skims along the line of your jaw, your eyes are still watery.

“Sweet girl, why are you crying? I know you. Why does it feel like there’s more to this than just me being an idiot?” he asks, quietly. It still feels so fragile between the two of you.

“Because I l-like you so much. And I know you meant well, but I hated what happened tonight.” You wipe angrily at the fresh tears that streak down your face, like you’re irritated at them for them falling without your permission. “My ex used to pull that kind of bullshit all the time and I always hated the way it made me feel.”

His hands fall from your face.

Your confession surprises him. “Jack?” Bradley asks, his eyebrows pulling together. You nod. “I thought you said he was fine? That the break up was mutual because things got stale between the two of you.”

It’s times like this where he’s reminded of just how much distance there between the two of you over the last decade before you moved to San Diego. Of how much of you he’s missed out on. All the little moments that made up someone’s life. There was only so much an email, or a text, or a call could do.

You sigh, heavily. “I’m realizing now that there were a lot of things I put up with Jack because I didn’t want to rock the boat.”

Bradley’s fingers flex involuntarily where his hands are resting your hips. He doesn’t know what to make of that admission.

“You got to give me more than that to work with, kid. Help me to understand.”

You run you hand along his forearm soothingly, like you can sense his unease. He slides his thumbs through the loops of your jeans, fixing himself to you.

“Jack was really good about wanting to show everyone that he was a good boyfriend. And he was- for a while.” You pause, pressing your lips together. “But there were a few times where we’d go out and he’d make a scene, like what happened tonight. Except instead of someone being an actual asshole, it’d be someone who’d started up some polite small talk with me as we waited in line. And it always became a bigger thing than it needed to be. Then afterwards, he’d make it seem like he was defending my honor or something, even though he knew I didn’t like the kind of attention and all the looks that came with it afterwards. But Jack was always about Jack, and he liked the hero edit his friends would give him.”

You look away from him towards the ocean, the sunset paints you golden. Bradley knows you’re collecting your thoughts, so he waits. When you’re ready, you turn back towards him. There’s a different kind of hurt reflected in your eyes, one that tells him tonight has opened up old wounds for you.

“He’d say all the right things around other people, but when it was just the two of us alone, I never got that side of him. At the time I believed he was saying them because he meant them, but I can see now that he never really showed me that he meant them. I took his words at face value and settled for them.”

You give him a self-conscious shrug. Like you’re embarrassed. But your big heart was one of the things he loved most about you, and he hated the idea that someone had been careless with it before it made it into his safekeeping.

Bradley swallows hard. That tonight reminded you of the low points in your past relationship is hard for him to hear. And knowing why, makes it even worse.

“I think, more than anything,” you continue, your voice much quieter now, “I’m just mad that I let myself get lost in that for so long. Like I knew I needed more and that I wanted more, but I kept putting him ahead of myself when he wasn’t doing that for me.”

You thread your fingers between his and squeeze them lightly. He squeezes yours back.

“But you, Bradley, say the right things and mean them. You show me how important I am to you, with or without an audience. No one has ever made me feel as special as you do. Like, you don’t buy me red roses because you think you should-”

“Wait,” he doesn’t mean to cut you off, but his mind has snagged on a critical detail, “I thought your favorite flowers were tulips?”

Yet. Such a small word, but it means so much to know that you’re envisioning the same future with him that he sees with you.

“I like that you do that. I want you to do that. I appreciate the way you show me you’re thinking about me too.” Bradley runs his thumbs over the back of your hands. “Although, I’d rather be the one buying them,” he says, only partly teasing.

You made his house feel like a home. He hadn’t had that in so long. He wanted you to have things there in his condo that you also liked and made you happy because he wanted you to stay. He couldn’t wait for the day the two of you shared one address instead of two.

“Does that mean I should return the throw pillows I found for you?” He spots a wink of your dimples. “They’re soft, but firm enough that you won’t hurt your neck when you inevitably fall asleep on the couch even though you claim you’re just ‘resting your eyes’.” He never wants you to stop teasing him.

“No,” Bradley chuckles. “They sound perfect, but you’re going to let me Venmo you for them.”

“Ok, fine,” you agree. Almost reluctantly.

God, he loves you.

He leans in to kiss you. Once. Twice. Soft, sweet.

Bradley lets go of one of your hands to settle on your lower back and press you closer to him, until there’s no space between your two bodies. And brings the other one, with your fingers still tangled with his up against his chest. Before resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel like that tonight.”

“Thank you, I forgive you.” You set the hand not entwined with his on the side of his face, your thumb sweeps across his cheek. “But I need you to hear me when I say that I can hold my own just fine, Bradley. I know you want to have my back and look out for me, but please, just not like that. Even if your heart is in the right place, ok?”

He nods. “I hear you, sweet girl. It’s not going to happen again. I promise.” He turns his head and presses a kiss to your palm. And then lifts the one still in his up to his lips, and drops a kiss to the back it.

“Plus, you taught me how to throw a punch, remember? I’m pretty sure I broke a guy’s nose one time,” you grin.

“Atta girl,” he says with pride. It’s so much lighter between the two of you now. He takes a couple step back, letting go of you and giving you a not-so-subtle onceover. “Ok, hot shot, show me what you got.” Beckoning you over with both hands.

“I’m not going to punch you, Bradley.”

“C’mon, kid, show me how it’s done.”

You shake your head at him in amused disbelief. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“No ma’am.” He taps his finger on his abs. “Let’s see it.”

You roll your eyes at him fondly. Then you hook your thumb over the top of your fist, just like he showed you all those years ago. And you ever so slowly, ever so gently press your perfectly aligned fist into his stomach. It could hardly even be considered a graze.

He doubles over with an overexaggerated oof and then tilts his head up at you and winks with a smile.

“You’re ridiculous.” The sound of your laugh fills his lungs.

It’s the same sound when he’d toss you into the pool when you were twelve. It’s the same sound when he’d spin you on the big tire swing when you were fourteen. It’s the same sound when he twirled you around the dance floor when you were nineteen at your mom’s second wedding.

There’s not just a glimmer of your dimples anymore, the full force of them hits him right in the chest.

“Speaking of punching,” Bradley says, straightening back up. “Hangman thinks I’m punching up.”

“Oh, does he? Interesting,” you hum. Your eyes shine in amusement.

He grins. “He’s not wrong. You’re way out of my league.”

You softly shake your head at him. “I’m just right for you. And you’re just right for me.”

He couldn’t agree more, but you don’t give him the chance too because you’re threading your arms around his neck and pulling his mouth to yours. With you in his arms and his lips on yours, he feels whole. You weren’t just right for him, you were perfect for him. And he’d never stop trying to be the perfectly right man for you.

No one’s ever had him, not like the way you do.

You’d always had a special place in his heart, but now the whole thing belonged to you. It was yours for the taking. He knew it would be in good hands with you, and he wasn’t going to stop proving to you that he was the one to be trusted with yours.

“Do you want me to take you home or do you want to go back inside?” He asks against your lips.

You kiss him again. “Let’s go back,” you say, wrapping your arm around his waist. “You owe me a dance, you know.”

He drops an arm over your shoulder. “I do?”

“You do.”

“Well then, lead the way, sweet girl.”

After he twirls you around on the crowded makeshift dancefloor of the Hard Deck, you let him take you home. Where he apologizes to you again, but this time on his knees with your thigh thrown over his shoulder. And twice more in your bed for good measure.

But not before he got his teeth on that little bow of yours.

He never stood a chance against it.

𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫

Bradley is about to line up his next shot at the pool table when Jake saddles up and nudges his shoulder.

“Looks like your girl has an admirer.” Hangman points with his beer bottle, directing Bradley’s gaze to the bar where someone is chatting you up.

He recognizes him from the most recent batch of Top Gun students. To call him overconfident would be an understatement. The guy is clearly as full of himself on the ground as he is in the sky, based on his body language as he monologues to you, all puffed up chest and cocky smiles.

If the guy had any common sense, he’d see that you look like you’d rather be anywhere else. It’s written all over your face.

“So it seems,” Bradley agrees, rests a hip against the table.

He’d noticed the guy checking you out. But it was pretty ballsy of the aviator to be leaning into you the way that he is, considering the two of you had arrived together and that Bradley had been the one tasked with doing some demonstration trainings with them earlier in the week.

The man makes some big gestures with his hands, he’s clearly reached the part of his story that’s meant to impress you. Bradley chuckles to himself when he sees the less than subtle roll of your eyes.

“Are you going to go all Rocky Balboa on his ass?” Jake asks with a knowing smirk.

You must feel their eyes on you, because you glance over in their direction.

He knows you can handle yourself, but he’ll be there if you want him to be.

Bradley lifts his eyebrow in a silent question. You give him a slight shake of your head and he nods.

“Nah, she’s got it.”

His favorite menace.

Bradley watches on as you lean over the counter and ring the bell with enthusiasm.

A cheer goes up throughout the bar. He brings his fingers up to his lips and lets out a loud whistle.

You look rightfully smug as Penny points out the wooden sigh strung up between the beer taps to the confused Top Gun student whose bank account will be hurting in the morning.

“Damn. I forgot the kid is a straight hustler,” Jake says, clearly impressed.

“She sure is,” Bradley grins, still looking at you, “It’s a good thing she likes you or you’d be screwed.” He pats Jake’s shoulder reassuringly, before pressing the cue into his hands.

You return a few minutes later, with a tray of frothy, freshly poured beers for everyone wearing an all-to-pleased grin that lights up the whole bar.

He waits until the beers are safely on the table before threading a finger through your beltloop and tugging him to you.

“That’s my girl.”

Bradley tilts your face up for a kiss. It’s not his best work, you’re making it difficult for him since you’re too busy smiling.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Disclaimer: my writing playlist included Cassandra, The Prophecy, and Castles Crumbling. So legally I cannot be held accountable for any angst hangovers.

Thank you for reading!

If you want to see what happens next for these two, click here!

You can read more of my stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

1K notes · View notes

probably-not-a-rocketscientist · 2 years ago

Text

Halo Headcannons

Just some thoughts about my fav WSO and her interactions with her fellow airmen ❤️

She's Omaha's wingman (no pun intended) because even though he's fine as hell, he's horrible at flirting with women. She was ecstatic when he finally asked out the nuclear engineer she befriended on an aircraft carrier.

She loves playing bartender. She first started making mocktails, but progressed into more advanced alcoholic drinks. She eventually got her liquor license and is the only pilot Penny allows behind the bar.

Her Mandarin sometimes slips into her English subconsciously. It's mostly a lot of 哎呀 (āiyā, kinda like a sigh of frustration). She says it for any level of inconvenience, whether it be dropping her pen or when Omaha decides to invert the plane unannounced 🙄

She can literally fall asleep anywhere. If you gave her a blanket and a pillow, she could probably fall asleep on the tarmac.

When Halo brought Fritz and Yale home for Lunar New Year, her family instantly instantly hit it off with them. Even the aunties tried to set them up with their daughters.

She has a really good singing voice that carries and is Rooster's go-to duet partner when he's playing a song on the piano with two singing parts.

Her vision corrects to 20/20 with contacts, but she sometimes uses her glasses if her eyes are irritated. She loves her glasses because she deliberately chose the chunkiest pair the store had (think 1980s plastic square frame glasses).

She regularly quotes sci-fi movies, even if no one understands the references. Fanboy was so excited when he realized she was also a Trekkie.

There's a soundtrack playing in her head 24/7. Sometimes she'll just randomly bop her head and tap her pen to whatever she's jamming out to in her mind.

Her favorite pair of sunglasses were picked out by Phoenix at a gas station in Lemoore. She got them matching ones in different colors.

She usually doesn't lie, but when she does, you can tell because she scrunches her nose (it's adorable)

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun: maverick #callie halo bassett #halo top gun #neil omaha vikander #billy fritz avalone #logan yale lee #bradley rooster bradshaw #natasha phoenix trace #mickey fanboy garcia

278 notes · View notes

all-things-fic · 4 years ago

Note

Harry FaceTime MC and baby Edie to show his Grammy challenge

Grammy Daddy // A Quarantine Harry interlude

This may not be much but I’m trying to dip my toe back into the fic world. The other piece is still coming (no pun intended) for the Grammys but I probably won’t be able to give it entire attenton until the middle of next week. Hope this tides everyone over! x

***

The sound of cries from the baby monitor woke you. They weren’t cries of distress which made the sound less of a shock to you being newly awakened but you reacted all the same.

Sitting up on the edge of the bed, there was a heaviness to your body that hadn’t been felt in the longest time. Your eyes swept over your master bedroom and lingered on the empty side of your usually shared bed. Not long enough to dwell, but long enough to recognise that you were parted.

When filming had finished, you and Harry came to the joint decision that going home would be best for both you and your baby girl. Harry was still needed in Los Angeles for commitments and would be joining you in time for him to quarantine in preparation for another movie.

It wasn’t a decision that the two of you had made lightly. It was one however, that had him beginning to burn the candle at both ends once it had been decided, just to ensure he was getting enough time with Edie before the two of you parted from him.

Reaching for your phone and letting your mind wander, your feet sluggishly padded across your bedroom floor and into the room next door.

The nursery here in London was unfinished.

If that thought had entered your mind at any other time of day it would’ve annoyed you, but thinking it at just shy of 4am meant that it went in one ear and out the other.

That didn’t mean it didn’t stop your eyes taking in everything.

The barely decorated walls which still held paint swatches and baby furniture still yet to be made. You were grateful that the cot and the changing table which held storage for clothes had been a priority before the rush of Harry’s work even became a thing. You were even more grateful for the rocking chair, set up in the corner to use for nursing, than ever before.

Soft shushing sounds had already begun to leave you subconsciously as you walked closer to your daughter. Her cries were still consistent but not getting any louder.

Looking down, you hated seeing the way her pretty face crumpled with upset and had started to get pink. Usually when you came to find her after sleep she would be looking up at you with her big, captivated eyes and provide you with a crooked smile very similar to the one that belonged to her Daddy.

You slowly lifted your hand and gently rested it on top of her stomach. Her tiny body shook as her arms were reached out either side of her. Your eyes quickly surveyed the situation in which you had found yourself, noting the way her baby blanket had been kicked off her while she slept.

“‘S okay baby, Mommy’s here,” you soothed, voice whispered as you watched the way her crumpled face started to soften and her cries lessened. You were sure her abrupt awakening had come from being cold, her body not quite used to the changing of locations and climates. “Did someone get cold? I think they did.”

You heard your voice now, the way it had taken on that tone it usually adopted as you spoke to you little girl. Part of you loved it but the other part was willing you to get out of it sooner rather than later, wanting Edie to pick up talking correctly initially rather than understanding “baby talk”.

Reaching down you gently lifted your daughter out of her cot, the blanket swiftly picked up with your left hand and threw gently towards the rocking chair. “Mommy’s here baby, Mommy’s got you,” you whispered, lips held against her temple as she gently rested her face in to your neck.

You naturally took on a rocking motion, as the cries of your daughter began to subside once more. The tension of her tiny body fading as she relaxed in your arms having previously taken on a tremble when you reached for her.

“Just us girls together,” you continued to speak to her, feeling her soft breathing hit your neck as she calmed.

Spinning around you located the rocking chair in the corner and quickly pulled at the dirty washing, which had been thrown on the seat by your own hands much earlier in the night, and let it fall to the floor before you sat.

Once comfortable you skilfully unbuttoned your pyjama shirt one-handed, like second nature and pushed the item open, guiding your grizzly daughter to your left boob. She latched with ease, her tiny hand lifting to rest gently atop your flesh, her fingers flexing slightly to softly grip.

With your spare hand, you stroked over her hair and down the centre of her nose watching the way the motion caused her eyes to flutter. She always opened them back up once you moved your hand back to the top of her head, and the way she immediately zoned in on you again caused you to softly smile down at her.

“Didn't fancy sleeping through this evening then?” You directed your question down to Edie.

Talking to her as she fed was something that you had ensured you did the minute she comfortably took to your breast.

You had read somewhere, and so had Harry, that even from when a baby is just a newborn, by taking up speaking you would be teaching your baby important language skills every time you verbally engaged. This also included singing. Babies needed to hear language before they could start talking. You were supporting and loving your baby by talking to them, even if they were unable to talk back yet.

Thinking about it, maybe you should revel in the fact that she couldn’t talk back yet.

“Maybe next time save the late nights for Daddy. Really welcome him home, eh?” You heard your amused lilt as you spoke and enjoyed feeling joy regardless of the ungodly hour.

At the mention of Harry, you felt the buzz of your phone in the pocket of the joggers you had commandeered from the man himself. Using your right hand, you quickly fished the item out from where it was nestled against your thigh, having no idea who would be contacting you at this time and quickly read the screen.

Wanting the time on the clock to be purely fictional rather than reality, you accepted the FaceTime call from your husband and if you didn’t feel so corpse-like you wondered if you would dread how you were going to present yourself to him.

After you accepted his FaceTime call, you had expected to see his face almost immediately. Instead you were met with what looked to be the inside of a suit jacket. Whatever it was, it looked to cost a pretty penny.

Slightly loud and boisterous noises caused your thumb to go into immediate action by pressing down the volume on your phone, your eyes averting away from the screen to drop down to your dozing baby girl as she gently fed from your breast.

“Bro,” you heard his drawl, followed quickly by a slightly laughed and shrieked, “What?!”

You were beginning to wonder if he had forgotten about you, before the phone moved again and you saw his face. Even held at an unflattering angle he was infuriatingly attractive.

His eyes glittered through the screen, slightly manic no doubt from the alcohol that had been consumed, a checkered mask looped around us ears and pushed under his chin.

The two of you stared at each other through the screen, both trying to read each other regardless of the 5,437 miles between the two of you.

“You didn’t,” you whispered, as his lips broke out into a larger grin, one side of his mouth slowly raising higher than the other.

He hummed with a slight eyebrow raise, lips rolling into his mouth to curb how overwhelmed and happy he was. “Might have.”

“Harry,” you breathed his name.

“Love you, darling,” he replied. “Didn't think I’d get you.”

“Someone woke me.”

Your eyes dropped down to your daughter who seemed to be more alert now from the additional sound of a familiar voice. She stared at you with a wonder that never failed to make you catch your breath. The amount of love in her big eyes, something neither she, nor you, were able to fathom.

As she kept your eyes, you heard his voice, “She said my Daddy is a Grammy Daddy, wake up Mummy we gots some celebratin’ t’do.”

#Harry styles #harry styles fluff #Harry styles blurb #quarantine harry #sorry I can’t read more at the minute

414 notes · View notes

vecnawrites · 4 years ago

Note

Jaune has survived NNN. His reward: Go to town on May and Ciel and release all of his built up stress.

Jaune had done it. He had survived ‘No Nut November’. It had been...hard (no pun intended), or rather, obscenely difficult. Pyrrha’s beauty, Nora being Nora and walking around in her underwear, Yang being Yang and flaunting her tits and cracking sex jokes every other minute...they all took their toll on him.

And it wasn’t just them! Beacon was full of beauties that tempted him. Professor Goodwitch was an utter bombshell, and many male student’s masturbatory fantasy. Velvet was adorable and had the warm ‘Girl Next Door’ vibe, Coco, the girl who knew she was hot, and flaunted it without being a bitch about it.

Blake, the quite nerdy bookworm archetype, down to actually openly reading freaky smut in class of all places, Weiss, every bit the sophisticated heiress that people wanted to rail and defile like a complete whore, even Ruby and her innocence attracted people like moths to an open flame.

And the foreign students tempted everyone. The smug Cinder Fall, the quiet Emerald Sustrai...everyone had their fantasies, ones that they lost the challenge because of.

He, however, had kept to his guns, a promise of a reward from the two girls who had been interested in him guiding him through the month and its intense trials. May Zedong, the beautiful sniper of BRNZ, and Ciel Soliel, the time focused companion of Ruby’s friend Penny. Both had approached him on Halloween night at the Beacon Halloween Party and given him an offer that he couldn’t refuse: Survive November without ejaculating once, and he could do whatever he wanted to them until their schools left Beacon.

His cock throbbed in his pants as he made his way towards the room that they had asked him to meet them in. It hadn’t been easy, not at all, especially since they had also teased him, regularly sending him naughty texts about what they were doing and even very sexual selfies, which were immediately hidden in a password protected folder so no one could stumble upon them.

Shaking his head to clear it, Jaune realized he had reached the room in question. Swallowing and trying to calm his aching cock, Jaune knocked on the door. There was a brief pause before he heard Ciel’s voice. “Who is it?”

Swallowing again, Jaune opened his mouth. “It’s Jaune.” he said, glad that his voice didn’t crack. There was another brief moment of silence, before he heard a pleased hum. “Right on time, mister Arc.” he heard Ciel’s voice say in a pleased manner, “It’s not right to keep your ladies waiting…”

The door made a small sound as it was unlocked, and Jaune entered the room, swiftly closing it and relocking it behind him. Looking at what he was met with, Jaune swallowed hard, pants bulging outwards before him.

Before him stood the tanned May Zedong and the cocoa-skinned Ciel Soliel, each wearing a smile and little else. His cock throbbed. He recognized the underwear, or lingerie rather, from the most recent selfie set that they had sent him.

May was wearing a low-cut peephole bra that not only barely contained her surprisingly massive chest (and boy, had that been a shock to see for the first time!), it also fully revealed her fat inverted nipples, the puffy bits of flesh sticking out a fair big from her breasts. For underwear, she wore a simplistic lace-lined bikini cut panty.

Ciel, on the other hand, wore a dark blue bra that contained her B-Cup breasts fully, if accentuating them, but he knew that her bottom was a thong bottom. As if on cue, Ciel turned her body, bending over a bit and showing Jaune the dark blue string that was swallowed up by the split of her bubbly rear, giving the adipose flesh a wiggle after a moment of allowing him to look.

Growling, Jaune stepped forwards, only to stop when both held up a hand. Both young women moved towards him, stroking his shoulders, chest, and back, slowly removing his shirt and baring his torso to them.

Both hummed, pleased that Jaune stood still and let them work, leaning forwards and beginning to press kisses along the firm muscle of his chest, breathing in the scent of his freshly showered skin.

Slowly kneeling before him, the pair pressed kiss after kiss down his chest and abdominals, meeting his belt. Carefully, the pair undid the metal and leather device, undoing the clasps, sliding down the zipper...both found their eyes widening as Jaune’s cock flopped out between them, the long thick flesh nearly slapping both of them in the face.

Both stared in shock, impressed and somewhat awed that Jaune could manage to hide such a thing in his pants. Lowering his pants more, both gasped a bit as they viewed how utterly swollen his balls were. Leaning forwards, the pair pressed delicate kisses to the swollen flesh, inhaling his musk.

“Since you haven’t achieved orgasm in a month, we will get the first one out of the way quickly, so you can truly enjoy the rest of the night…” Ciel hummed, sharing a look with May, whom nodded eagerly.

Slowly the pair started at the base, kissing and licking the thick flesh between them, slowly moving upwards towards his tip, humming and moaning all the while, loving the grunts and moans of pleasure that Jaune was releasing as he gently played with their hair.

Reaching the broad, leaking tip, the pair kissed the fat head between their lips, before they began to lick it wildly, their tongues slipping over the slit and tasting the sticky precum dribbling out, their tongues colliding and tangling together.

Jaune growled to himself, watching the two gorgeous women practically making out with his cock, his balls churning angrily at the sight; he knew that he wasn’t going to last long at this rate with the intense feelings flowing through him…

And he was proven right, cumming hard with a guttural sound, splattering the tanned and cocoa-skinned faces of his beautiful lovers with thick, pent up seed, covering their faces in a gooey white mask.

Both Ciel and May moaned, licking their lips and tasting the musky offering, before leaning forwards and licking the other’s face clean while Jaune watched, his cock not losing a bit of hardness and only getting harder as he watched, his cock demanding more attention.

Looking up at their lover with a smirk, Ciel spoke. “Who, or what, do you want to slate your lust with first, Jaune? May’s Massive Mammaries,” she unclipped the tanned girl’s bra and yanked it away, making the sniper squeak and blush even darker, “or my Plump Peach?” with what had to be practiced moves, Ciel wiggled her thong down and off, leaning over and wiggling her rump in enticement.

Growling in lust, Jaune grabbed them both. What he wouldn’t give for having Blake’s or Sun’s semblances at this moment...but it didn’t matter. He had both of them until they left back to their schools. He would make them both his.

A smirk pulling at his lips, he looked at both eager young women, cock twitching as his eyes roamed the expanse of bare flesh. “I don’t know…” he drawled, “why don’t you both tell me why I should pick you?” he asked, glancing between both.

May blushed fiercely, while Ciel smirked. She decided to start, knowing that the shy sniper would need to gather her courage for this. “Well, my marvelous rear has just enough muscle to tighten around that wonderful cock of yours, and if I do this,” she began to flex her muscles, popping her cheeks, alternating which one rose and fell, getting wet upon seeing the hungry look on Jaune’s face. “I can jerk you off with my ass alone.”

May shuddered, cupping her hefty tits and bringing them up in offering. “A-And I...my breasts are the softest...softest t-things you c-could play with. They...they’ll swallow y-your massive c-cock completely a-and you can t-thrust to your hearts c-content.” she managed to force out, feeling lightheaded after saying something so utterly lewd.

Jaune couldn’t help but smile at May. He could tell she was so utterly nervous, but still trying her best and honestly wanting this. He licked his lips, before reaching out…

May squeaked as she was knocked back on the bed, Jaune straddling her belly, his hard cock slapping against her skin, the fat head pushing up against the bottom of her cleavage.

Feeling the bed shift next to her, May only became more flustered as Ciel looked at her with a pout. “I’m jealous...that cock is going to feel so good between those breasts of yours…” she smirked as Jaune cupped and pressed her breasts together, sandwiching his shaft between them, slowly beginning to rock back and forth.

Jaune hissed through his teeth as he pumped himself between the heavenly pillows that May called her breasts, the softness just as exquisite as May had proclaimed it to be. He couldn’t wait to paint them with every drop of seed in his next load...then he would move to Ciel. Then back to May. And then the cycle would continue, until they begged him to stop or his balls emptied and fired completely dry, whichever came first.

May whined, a pleasant tingle in her pussy. She hated how sensitive her breasts were normally, but this...this was nice. She squirmed slightly, sighing as Jaune’s thumbs toyed with her fat nipples. She arched a bit, glancing down to see if she could see any of Jaune’s cock. She was surprised that even though Jaune was big and making full strokes between her breasts, her flesh had completely swallowed him.

“I wonder…” she glanced to the side to see Ciel watching and gently running her fingers over her pussy, allowing her to see quick glimpses of bright pink between the chocolate skin. “When Jaune cums, will it mostly stay between your tits and just bubble up out of your cleavage, or will it have enough force that it just shoots out and coats that pretty face of yours?” she hummed in thought, looking up at Jaune next. “What do you think, stud?”

Jaune grunted. “You’re soon to find out, that’s for sure!” he growled, rocking back and forth faster, outright humping May’s chest now as he neared his second, but nowhere near last, orgasm of the night. Taking a deep breath, he groaned darkly, hips bucking wildly as his balls pulsed, his cum shooting out of his cock.

May squirmed as she felt wet heat form between her boobs, building and building until-she squeaked loudly as a large burst of cum shot out from between her breasts, painting a long stripe along her face. Then another. And another. And then another.

Next to her, Ciel chuckled, watching as May’s face was once again painted a milky white. “Guess that answers that…” she murmured, before smirking up at Jaune. “My turn, stud!” she rolled on her belly and raised her ass up, shaking it side to side eagerly, smirking as her thicc cheeks clapped against one another.

Jaune grunted as he watched the teasing woman before him, slowly shifting over towards her as May settled back, tits and face glazed in his cum. As he rested his cock between the dark-skinned half moons, Ciel wasted no time, beginning to pop her cheeks and twerk around his cock, clapping her ass along Jaune’s thick cock as it rubbed against her sensitive rim.

Jaune groaned as he squeezed his hands into fists, watching the show with lust. He knew now that the three of them would be doing this nightly until they had to leave. Her control was so great that he could already feel his balls churning again, ready to let out another load. He growled softly at the thought.

Sensing this, Ciel looked back with an eager smile. “That’s it, let it all out! Coat my thick ass in your cum! Paint it white!” she demanded, rocking her ass against him faster and faster, eager to see what was going to happen.

Jaune growled, taking control and grabbing Ciel’s cheeks, humping away madly between them, his balls slapping against the underside of her cheeks. “Here...it...comes!” he pulled back and clapped the thicc cheeks over his tip.

With a harsh sounding grunt, Jaune began to cum, seed rocketing from his cock, bubbling between Ciel’s cheeks, then spraying outwards and coating her lower back and overflowing the crevasse of her ass, trails of milky cum sliding along her dark skin.

Pulling back, Jaune licked his lips as he stared at both young women coated in his thick semen, cock twitching. He acted, unable to hold back any longer, grabbing Ciel’s hips, angling himself down a bit, and yanking the dark skinned young woman back.

“Ahhhh!” Ciel groaned as her ass clapped back against Jaune’s hips. She gripped the sheets tightly as Jaune wasted no time thrusting into her soaking core. She saw May looking at them, at her, in jealousy, only making her clench down harder on the thick cock invading her formerly virgin pussy.

Seeing May’s expression, Jaune chuckled. “Don’t worry, May...I still have...plenty...both of you...will be satisfied...by the night’s end!” he grunted, picking up speed and slamming into Ciel’s backside, pumping into her hard.

May settled, eagerly awaiting her turn to be fucked, knowing that if Ciel’s expression of lust was anything to go by, she would love it.

And she did.

Jaune Arc:

Status: SURVIVED

Time Survived: All 30 Days

Reward: May Zedong and Ciel Soliel As Lovers

#No Nut November #Jaune Arc #Ciel Soliel #May Zedong #What is this pairing?

174 notes · View notes

seitmai · 13 days ago

Text

It is Halloween night, and the Hard Deck is all decked out – and yeah, pun intended – with the best decorations the local stores had to offer. And then a few more that young Amelia Benjamin ordered online with the credit card in her wallet that definitely wasn’t for emergencies only.

Definitely an emergency to not have enough Halloween decorations 🤷🏻‍♀️

She did, however, have to draw the line upon catching Amelia on top of the bar, trying to stick glow-in-the-dark skeletons into the model planes.

That would have been so good!!

(He tried to save a few bucks here and there by ordering off Amazon and not from the Etsy store that designed the rest of the suit. Never again. He should’ve known not to cheap out on perfection.)

I get it, authentic stuff like that is hella expensive

“I’m not Boba Fett. I’m the Mandalorian. He’s like… a whole different character, dude.” He gets a dismissive cigar wave in response. “It’s all Star Trek, innit, mate?”

If looks could kill haha

“You pulled me away from the girls, man. I was this close.” He shifts his helmet from one hand to the other and pinches two gloved fingers, this far apart. “This close, man. They all wanted pictures with me.” “You can get back to the mask kink brigade later.

I'm dead 😂😂😂

“‘Ello there, love, I’m Tommy Shelby. This good man over here is one of those… what’d ya call them? Stormtrooper lads?” “Reuben, I swear – ”

Mickey is over his antics haha

[And some time later, after Federal Fire San Diego cleared the premise and declared it to be a false alarm, probably faulty wiring with all the string lights, Hangman and Coyote make their way back to the bathroom.]

Not the fire department having to come lmao

(And yeah, Phoenix, Jake is wearing briefs underneath the shirt. It’s not a free show after all.)

😂😂😂

“Well now, I’m certified MILF Angelina Jolie from the iconic 2005 classic Mr. and Mrs. Smith, only gets better with age. I’ll let you guess whether I mean her or the movie.” A dashing wink at the camera. “And Coyote here is…” Coyote is adjusting the white boxer shorts that keep riding up his muscular thighs – skies out, thighs out and all that – and wonders if Brad Pitt ever had to deal with having such incredible thigh strength on set. Probably not. He flashes an overly proud grin, and Jake wonders if perhaps, Jake might need to cut off his access to the flask tucked into his left galosh.

I can't 😂😂😂 every sentence of this made me crack up harder!

..slow... …nepotism pick...…fuck with a stupid-looking mustache… …can’t have the flask, go buy a beer, Coyote!

I have a feeling that Mrs. Smith wants to kiss Magnum PI but doesn't want to admit it 🤭

[Midnight arrives, and Yzma and Kronk from The Emperor’s New Groove enter the bathroom. Holding the miniature trophies that Penny awarded them for a well-deserved first place in the annual Hard Deck Halloween Costume Contest.]

Deserving winners in my opinion

Fixing the neckline of the purple dress (and after definitely flashing a nipple on stage out there), Bob wipes at his drooping eyeliner and puts in another splash of eye drops. Contacts make his eyes so dry.

And the gender swap makes it even better!!!👏🏻

A frown wrinkles her brow. “Well, I still vote Mrs. Smith because Bagman’s a douche, and I want him to have a violent hangover tomorrow. I want him to spend his whole day downing Gatorades and fruitlessly wishing for his suffering to end. How’s that?”

Fair 🤷🏻‍♀️😅

Sweat pricks at Bob’s brow. He likes Phoenix. He really does. (But sometimes, Phoenix scares him a little.)

Also fair 😂

[And now alone, in the backseat of the Bronco, Magnum PI absentmindedly wipes at the lipstick print on his cheek and lets out a loud snore. Humming a tune in his sleep that sounds suspiciously like Great Balls of Fire.]

I truly hope the lipstick stain is from Mrs. Smith 🤭

end note: then, amelia benjamin uploads this to her secret daggersafterdark tiktok account and goes viral. the end.

As it should be!! 👏🏻

I had a blast reading this, I truly loved it so much!! 🫶🏻

baby, it's halloween (and we can be anything)

synopsis: since TGM takes place around Halloween, the Daggers would definitely dress up and go to the Hard Deck Halloween party, right?

pairings: none but many a couples costume

warnings: explicit language, bad irish accents, drinking and mentions of alcohol, anachronistic tiktok trends, all fluff all the time, too many pop culture references, not edited

note: inspired by this ask i sent to @theharddeck. all of the excellent costumes were her idea because i couldn't stop thinking about the mr. and mrs. smith costume all day. for you, darling!

(top gun: maverick is a halloween movie, pass it on. and yeah, i did use a phoebe bridgers lyric for this incredibly unserious fic. title from halloween.)

Purple lights adorn the wooden pillars, wrapped carefully around the faded stickers and other memorabilia, casting the whole bar in an eerie glow after the sun goes down. Two dozen or so balloons float against the ceiling, black and orange, and any available inch that isn’t blocked by a balloon is expertly covered in more fake cobwebs than Penny has ever seen in her life.

She did, however, have to draw the line upon catching Amelia on top of the bar, trying to stick glow-in-the-dark skeletons into the model planes.

It looks great. And the whole Top Gun team shows up in full costume – including the ones that Penny knows Pete favors for the mission, even if Maverick would never say it himself.

This, for Amelia Benjamin, is simply an opportunity too good to pass up.

[Penny Benjamin enters the single bathroom at the end of the Hard Deck’s back hall, the one that Amelia marked with a HAUNTED BATHROOM sign that made patrons think it was out of order. She sets the phone on the counter and clicks over to the camera, starting the video.]

“Okay, well, I don’t really know how this all works, but I’m Sarah Williams from the movie Labyrinth, and I think…”

She adjusts the too big skirt of her bejeweled ballgown, damn the appeal of authentic poofs and ruffles, and tosses her hair over her shoulder, trying to remember what Amelia told her to do.

“Ahhhh… What was it? Drunkest?”

She has an answer, but unfortunately, Pete had a prior commitment to fly in that Halloween Airshow this weekend. Otherwise, Penny knows Maverick would be here, giving the young hotshots a run for their money.

“Who is here tonight?” A light bulb goes off in her head, probably purple to keep things in theme. “Well, from prior experience, I think Peaky Blinders will be the drunkest tonight. He still owes me $20 for knocking those planes off the ceiling back at Top Gun.”

Gathering up her skirts, Penny gets to thinking, “He still owes me for the two steins last week too. Dammit…” and huffing, exits the bathroom in a whirl of skirts and jewels.

[After a surprisingly intimidating shakedown from Penny Benjamin, Payback makes his way to the out-of-order bathroom. Not before grabbing his WSO by one of the many, many straps on his costume and pulling him away from the gaggle of fawning women in sexy alien costumes.]

“Hello,” Payback says in the empty bathroom, feeling stupid. He digs his cigar out of a vest pocket and re-lighting the end, takes a thick puff. An atrocious Irish accent comes out the other side. “Right, govunah, name’s Tommy Shelby from Peaky fooking Blinders, and I tink that – oi, are you taking the piss then, mate?

And Fanboy smacks him again just for that, knocking the newsboy hat right off his head with a flat palm. “What’s your problem?”

“Can’t hear you, mate,” Payback says, smoke curling from the end of the cigar. He flashes him a good-natured grin around it. “Better pop that helmet off, right, Boba Fett?”

“I’m not…” comes from under the helmet, all garbled.

Damn battery must’ve died in the voice modulator.

(He tried to save a few bucks here and there by ordering off Amazon and not from the Etsy store that designed the rest of the suit. Never again. He should’ve known not to cheap out on perfection.)

Damp curls spring from underneath the helmet as Fanboy pulls it from his head, wiping them across his forehead. They stay there, plastered from the heat and condensation inside the helmet.

“I’m not Boba Fett. I’m the Mandalorian. He’s like… a whole different character, dude.”

He gets a dismissive cigar wave in response.

“It’s all Star Trek, innit, mate?”

“Star Wars. And your Tom Shelby accent needs some work. You’re starting to sound a little Australian now.”

“Can’t sound proper Irish without my cap, and you, sir,” Payback jams a finger into his WSO’s shoulder, then pulls it back when it actually hurts. God, how much did Mickey pay for that suit? “Nicked it from my fooking head, mate. Explain yourself then.”

“You can get back to the mask kink brigade later. Penny sent me back here, upon threat of death, mind you. Her daughter wants us all to do some TikTok trend for the Halloween party.”

“Fine,” Fanboy huffs, still pouting over the Star Trek comment. He knows Payback knows the difference. “But I’m putting the helmet back on. Need to get my money’s worth, now that I’ve given up my retirement fund to buy this costume.”

“Whatever you say, Darth Vader.”

“I am not – ”

Payback knocks the helmet the rest of the way down with a closed fist, ignoring the disoriented Mickey that flails around in the background of the video. He puts on his best movie star smile and blows a perfectly round smoke ring at the camera.

“‘Ello there, love, I’m Tommy Shelby. This good man over here is one of those… what’d ya call them? Stormtrooper lads?”

“Reuben, I swear – ”

“And I think,” Payback continues, unperturbed as his WSO makes another grab for the newsboy. “Now I’d bet my life that Mr. and Mrs. Smith are the most binned tonight. I’ve got it on good authority that Mr. Smith’s got a flask in those short shorts of his.”

Smoke curls up from the cigar, and Mickey spots a blinking dot on the ceiling.

“Hey, Payback, d’you want to maybe put that out? It’s getting a little smokey in here.”

“Chill out, Mando. It’ll be – ”

Hangman sniffs the air. “Do you smell that? It stinks back here.”

“It’s a bathroom, dude.”

“Not…” Hangman lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Never mind.”

He finds the phone, still propped up on the counter and brimming with battery life somehow. Adjusts the crisp white button-down in the mirror, pulling it tight over his shoulders.

It is several sizes too large, hanging loose over his firm torso and leaving a scandalous amount of thigh and calf muscle exposed, between the hem and the top of the ruby-red rain boots.

(And yeah, Phoenix, Jake is wearing briefs underneath the shirt. It’s not a free show after all.)

Coyote is adjusting the white boxer shorts that keep riding up his muscular thighs – skies out, thighs out and all that – and wonders if Brad Pitt ever had to deal with having such incredible thigh strength on set. Probably not.

His shirt is white and skin-tight, almost see-through, over his chest. “Certified bad-ass Brad Pitt from Mr. and MILF… wait…” He loses his balance a little bit from thinking too hard. “That’s not right. Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Nailed it!”

He flashes an overly proud grin, and Jake wonders if perhaps, Jake might need to cut off his access to the flask tucked into his left galosh. He wanted to have a fake gun stashed in the other one, but Penny spotted him waving it around near the dartboard and confiscated it.

“Right…” Jake deadpans, then turns back to the camera. He loosens the top button of his shirt, popping it open to reveal more of his chest. Metal winks from the gap, the chain of his dog tags. “And I think…. You know what? I think Magnum PI will be the drunkest tonight.”

Coyote looks skyward, shaking his head.

Drunken agitation leaks into his voice. “You know why I think that?”

“Not again,” Coyote groans.

He reaches for the flask, and Mrs. Smith swats his hand away, pointing a stern finger at him, then at the phone.

“Because Magnum PI is slow. He’s not cut out for a real Halloween party. He’s slow in the air, slow on the ground, and slow to handle his alcohol. He’ll be passed out by midnight. I’d put money down.”

And as the Haunted Bathroom door swings shut behind them, the iPhone mic barely picks up on the low mutterings.

..slow...

…nepotism pick...

…fuck with a stupid-looking mustache…

…can’t have the flask, go buy a beer, Coyote!

Phoenix holds the trophy over her head like a gladiator, grinning from ear to ear, flexing her muscles in the cut-off sleeves. “Hello friends and foes, winners and losers, I’m Kronk from Emperor’s New Groove…”

It takes Bob a few seconds to notice Phoenix staring him down.

He straightens up, clearing his throat. “And I’m Yzma, also from Emperor’s New Groove.”

“We think,” Phoenix leans closer, like Amelia’s iPhone is an old friend, and holds onto the edge of the counter with dignity. She probably could’ve left that last victory shot on the table. “that Mrs. Smith will be the drunkest tonight. He’s got a flask in his boot.”

“It’s Coyote’s. I saw him with it earlier.”

Sweat pricks at Bob’s brow. He likes Phoenix. He really does.

(But sometimes, Phoenix scares him a little.)

His swallow is audible. “Yeah. Sure, yeah.”

And Bob keeps to himself that Rooster has been MIA for over an hour now, after cashing in on three bell rings in a row and following a girl in a Sue Storm costume out to the parking lot.

end note: then, amelia benjamin uploads this to her secret daggersafterdark tiktok account and goes viral. the end.

(making my fic debut with this one, so i would love to hear all your thoughts, and i gave danny's look both ways hair to fanboy just this once because i can.)

104 notes · View notes

weeinterpreter · 3 years ago

Text

point.

The purple clouds hung low in the Irish sky, rumbling and crackling. Any minute now, they would burst open, releasing a torrential rainfall. Juliet stopped the car outside Fowl Manor's gate, unable to meet Samsonetta’s curious look.

"Before we go in," Juliet said, rubbing her hands over her jeans. "You should know some things about me."

Samsonetta chuckled. "Did you rob banks before you became a luchadora?"

"Not quite," she said with a sigh, bracing herself. "I used to meet with the local gang in Dublin. We'd smoke weed and drink alcohol. It was pretty wild."

"That's your big confession?" Samsonetta asked, a mild smile playing on her lips. Lovely lips, too. Juliet shook her head, focussing at the problem at hand.

"Ah, my brother wasn't thrilled about it. He didn't approve of my choice of girlfriends."

Samsonetta was quiet, the statement sinking in. Juliet could see how the penny dropped, and her heart sank.

"So, what you are trying to tell me," she said slowly, "is that your brother is expecting a druggy who earns her money by… selling weed?"

"Oh no.” Juliet chuckled nervously. "By breaking and entering and stealing valuables."

Feeling a flood of words bubbling up in her chest, Juliet drummed her hands on her thighs to calm herself down, recalling that night. She hardly ever fought with Dom, but that night had been bad.

She had applied her makeup when Dom had knocked on her door.

"You are going to see her again, aren't you?" he asked. The deep furrow on his forehead spoke volumes about how he felt about her plan.

Juliet shrugged, applying extra glittery eyeshadow. She didn't even like it that much, but she knew it bothered her big, overprotective, melodramatic brother.

"So, what if I do?"

Dom gritted his teeth. "She is trouble, and she'll get you into trouble. I don't want you to go."

His words were oil on her smouldering rage. What did he know about Mary, anyway? He only thought about security and keeping Artemis safe. Clearly, he had never been in love.

"That's too bad," she snapped. "Because I'll go, anyway."

"I can make you stay," Dom said in a warning tone. She knew he could, and it riled her up even more. Baring her teeth at him, she slammed the door shut in his face.

"I hate you!" she had screamed through the closed door.

Juliet swallowed at the memory.

"I hurt my brother pretty badly. He never mentioned it, but he is a big softie and I was really shit to him," she said miserably. "Whenever Mary was involved... I simply couldn't think straight. No pun intended."

Stifling a laugh, Samsonetta reached out and placed a hand on hers.

"What happened with that chica, who brought out the worst in you?"

"I met up with Mary and her gang,” Juliet said, entwining her fingers with hers. “They planned to rob a pizza joint, and I figured Do– my brother might have been half-right about Mary 'being trouble'. I loved her but I wasn't a criminal, and when she wanted me to help with the burglary I went home and that was the end of us."

They sat in silence before Juliet found the courage to ask, "Do you want me to turn around?"

"Why?" Samsonetta asked with a frown. "I can handle a protective brother. Give me five minutes with him, he'll be putty in my hands."

Lightning flashed across the sky, the approaching thunder booming in the distance as Juliet stared at her, mouth agape. When Samsonetta wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, she pulled her in for a kiss.

They broke apart, breathless, when her phone vibrated. Probably Dom, wondering why they were idling in front of the gates, like paparazzi.

Big heavy raindrops hit the windshield when Juliet turned on the engine with a relieved giggle. She threw Samsonetta an impressed look.

"You have no idea how much I love you right now, mi amor."

Samsonetta brushed some imaginary dust off her shoulder and nodded thoughtfully. "I'm pretty amazing, am I not?"

27 notes · View notes

itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

Text

RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Amity”

Welcome back, everyone! I hated this episode.

As in, I’m nominating “Amity” for the Most Stupid Episode of RWBY award. Was there some cool action? Yes. Good Penny development? Mm hmm. Some surprise cameos in the Maya Engine? You know it. Was all of it almost entirely undermined by the sheer number of times I went, “Wait, what?” over the course of twenty minutes?

Sadly, yes.

But let’s start at the beginning.

We get a gorgeous opening shot of Amity Tower and, aesthetics aside, my first thought was, “There’s no one around to protect it?” I mean, this was Ironwood’s super secret project. Watts just tried to sabotage it a few hours ago. Prior to the reveal that Amity wasn’t finished (cough), Team RWBY was trying to convince Ironwood to give calling others a chance, but you’re telling me after all that there’s not a single guard there? Pietro, Maria, and Penny just waltzed up without any problems? The only reason it might be abandoned—yes, even with a grimm attack looming—is if it was useless. Because remember, it was supposed to be useless. Unfinished. Not worth protecting in its current state because its current state is non-operational. That would have explained why Ironwood would leave it undefended, yet as we’ve known since the premiere, Amity was apparently finished by magic at some point, leaving the question of why it’s unguarded (or why Ironwood wouldn’t want to use it himself for something) up in the air. Pun not intended.

So these three have free rein to do whatever they want and what they want to do is, apparently, blow up the dust mine. Love that we spent an entire volume worrying about dwindling resources! I’d find the sacrifice justifiable under the circumstances if this Amity plan weren’t so foolish. Also, I’m not going to pretend that I know anything about explosives and whether providing that kind of “thrust” would actually work, but in this case I think RWBY’s sci-fi/fantasy status gives it a pass.

Penny, however, isn’t so sure. “Dad? This… does not seem like a very good idea.” Yeah. Pietro gives a short speech about good ideas not necessarily being best ideas, which would have been a great perspective to adopt for the series’ massive Ironwood arc, not a three minute solution to a problem I didn’t even know existed until now.

Pietro also weirdly teleports during this scene? He’s talking to Penny outside of the tower, tinkering with things, and then the next sentence he’s suddenly deep inside it. I mean, based on the dialogue this sentence could have come later, but it doesn’t read that way given that they were just chatting. It feels like a continuous conversation. He was outside one second, now he’s not.

During all this Maria is doing… something with a mech. That she got from who knows where. I really don’t know what the point of this was besides a very brief airship fight, but I’m just happy Maria is doing something. In fact, she’ll do far more later in the episode—we’ll get to that—so congratulations, RWBY, we can officially ignore half of your Maria square on the bingo card. Keep her alive for the next nine episodes and you’re golden.

Our trio has the message ready to go which they recorded… when? Sometime before everyone split based on the fact that Ruby is standing in the Happy Huntress’ hideout. This episode throws out a LOT of information that seems to come out of nowhere and doesn’t hold up well in terms of timing. Or, you know, general sense. Take, for example, the next exchange between Penny and Pietro. She wants to stay here in case no one is able to come help Atlas and Pietro panics about her staying with them, heavily implying that they’re leaving leaving. Once they go up they can’t come back down because otherwise… why not just send out the message, land, and then Penny goes off again to help? Later in the episode landing seems inevitable and then it seems planned for—what, are Pietro and Maria just going to hang up there forever? So what’s the conflict here?

Specifically, what’s the conflict for Penny? Amity should just be a quick side mission she completes before heading back into battle. Why does she care about doing what’s essentially an errand while Ruby nurses Nora back to health? She’s not missing anything. I’m having a hard time understanding why she’s acting like getting the message out means she’s removed from the fight indefinitely. Pietro, however, makes a little more sense if we read it simply as him not wanting Penny to be involved in the fight, period. As we see later, he fears for her safety and will do everything he can to keep her here with him, safe: “I’m your father. I’m telling you, you belong on Amity.”

Penny gives a sad “Yes, sir” and Maria chides Pietro with, “Don’t you think Penny has had enough people telling her what to do?”

Oh boy. There’s so much wrong with this line. The general demonization of ever following orders, even when those orders are sound. The comparison between Ironwood’s new villainy/his “bootlickers” (“Yes, sir”) and a father’s justifiable fear. Ignoring that Ruby has also been giving orders and no one is reminding her that Penny is an autonomous person capable of deciding things for herself. Where was this sort of chiding when she took away Penny’s scroll and spoke for her to Ironwood?

So Penny, of course, flies up and I guess provides them with the launch sequence or something? She sort of perks up and makes tech noises, then the tower is ready to go. Just like that.

Pietro makes a joke about not having time to install seatbelts.

Funny, shouldn’t there be safety measures for the people operating the tower? If the tower was finished and ready to go? 🙃

Everything is going to plan until Cinder shows up, melting a giant hole while Neo pilots the airship through it. So she came! Too bad she’s not going to achieve anything. Despite the stowaways, the bomb Penny left goes off and the dust mine explodes in a massive cloud of color, sending Amity up into the sky. This pops up on Ironwood’s feed and he gives an ominous “It’s time.”

For the first minute or so no one can move due to the pressure and Cinder takes the time to taunt Penny some, saying she expected her friends to be here and, since they’re not, she’s just “a tool to be used.” While she lashes verbally she also summons a massive number of swords. When they’re able to fight Penny is briefly overwhelmed…

…Until Maria comes to her aid!

“Get away from her, you bitch!”

That was great. If anyone other than Tyrian was going to curse, you know it had to be our snarky grandma. So I’m cheering, watching Maria make use of her (acquired off screen) tech to help, despite the fact that she’s too old to fight anymore and—

Wait.

Okay, here’s my problem with this battle. First of all, Cinder’s group should have decimated them. This is an experienced Maiden (see: Raven fight) with a grimm arm vs. a girl who only got the powers a few hours ago. I know a few weeks back I mentioned how insanely powerful Penny is in theory, but that was before she was nearly taken out by the Ace Ops. You know, the group who was all knocked unconscious by a bunch of half-trained, exhausted teenagers. So the comparisons here don’t make Penny look too good. More importantly—because Cinder doesn’t have a great track record anymore either—she’s backed by ‘I was kicking a Maiden’s ass before she whipped out her magic’ Neo and ‘I can make anyone see anything and I just mentioned last episode that I’ve been working on this semblance’ Emerald. They are a power team. Who is Penny backed by? A non-combat scientist and a woman who stopped fighting years ago.

Right?

I have no problem with Maria being powerful. In fact, after her Grimm Reaper reveal I had hoped we’d see her fight, both to give the group a power to aspire to—here’s what a fully trained huntress with experience looks like. This is what our personal inspiration and a huntress beloved by the world looks like—and to have an older fighter providing diversity. Sure, there’s Ozpin, but he reincarnates into young bodies. Maria is a Mexican coded, disabled, old as balls fighter and that’s AWESOME. Problem is… she never fought. She hobbles around with her cane, using it in a way Ozpin never used his, implying that she really needs it. She’s not spry anymore. Every time there’s a battle she’s in an airship or other tech, providing help through the use of an assistive device. She never offers to train anyone. We never see her accompanying a group—like JNOR—to provide extra protection. During the grimm attack Maria exchanges a fearful look with Pietro and then presumably hides in his shop off screen. Why has the story been ignoring Maria when she can fight like this? How can she fight like this when we haven’t seen her throw so much as a punch since we met her?

I mean, this is Neo! Neo. One of the most powerful, non-Maiden fighters we’ve seen to date. She took out Jaune, Nora, Ren, and Oscar without breaking a sweat, but a few minutes with Maria has her collapsed on the ground?

Something is very wrong with this fight. Either the writing nerfed Neo to allow Maria to win, or the writing has been pushing one of the most powerful characters off screen, relegating her to comic relief. Maria should be insanely powerful given her Grimm Reaper status. I had come to accept that she was powerful and, like people in real life, simply lost that with age. Now, the story suddenly reveals that this was never the case.

During all this Emerald helps Neo one (1) time, despite presumably standing there watching the entire fight. Before it begins Neo randomly decides to turn into Ruby, but then has dropped the illusion by the time we return. Maria is laughing like a loon for the first half of the battle. The only reason she (briefly) looses is because she gets distracted. Then Penny K.O.’s Neo’s aura with a single blast.

See, this is why I rarely enjoy the fights anymore. Beyond that fact that I thought some of it was rather lackluster compared to our Penny vs. Ace Ops fight, it just doesn’t make sense. There’s moment after moment that has me scratching my head and if you’re going, “Huh?” at the screen the whole time, it’s pretty hard to get immersed in the story.

During all this they reach the necessary altitude to broadcast, but it won’t go through because of a “stabilizer fail.” You mean the giant hole that Cinder blew in the side of the tower?

Never mind that everyone except Penny should be dead by now. How are they breathing up there? It’s like if someone blew a hole in your airplane and everyone just went about their tasks as usual.

You’ve gotta input the code, Penny.

I joke, but Pietro does start desperately typing. I guess because stabilizers might be fixed with a code or something? Anything is possible in this show.

It’s the Penny vs. Cinder fight that I’m bored with though. At least before Cinder manages to nearly the powers. I think part of it is because we already got this fight last volume, partly because they don’t do much that we haven’t seen from them both before: Penny flies around a lot, Cinder tosses variously summoned weapons, etc. Details I did appreciate though were the return of Cinder’s arrows and the fact that she didn’t let Penny lead her from Amity for long. Look at our villain making a smart decision!! Love that.

Cinder starts destroying the tower instead and Penny asks why she’d want to serve Salem. “I don’t serve anyone and you wouldn’t either if you weren’t built that way!” Penny looks sadly down at Pietro and for one horrible moment I thought the story would actually have her buy into that nonsense, but then Penny rallies and announces that she chooses when to fight because she wants to protect those she loves.

Penny has some really great moments here. What’s less great is the setup for them. I mean… why is Pietro in danger? Penny is clearly trying to keep the top portion of the tower from collapsing after Cinder’s attack, but you’re telling me the tech-obsessed scientist hasn’t put flight capabilities into his chair? That’s not how he got way up high on the outside of the tower, it was just a random hatch or something? When every piece of tech in RWBY serves triple-duty, the Atlas tech mastermind hasn’t included the one thing in his massive chair that would save him here? It’s all very… “Really?” Especially when Cinder is smart enough to realize that Penny cares about the tower, but not realize she cares more about her dad. Just grab Pietro and threaten him, demanding that Penny stand down so Cinder can grab the powers. Penny, horrified by her father’s potential death (and ambivalent about having this responsibility in the first place) lets her. Something other than this weird setup of destroying the platform itself.

Penny’s scream though is fantastic. Kudos to Taylor for that moment. So yeah, Cinder starts taking the power—did she get a bit then, like with Amber?—before Penny rallies and knocks her off. From then on Cinder doesn’t stand a chance. Emerald reappears to provide assistance in the form of an illusion, except that Penny’s tech allows her to see through it with ease. The real Cinder is marked with ‘Danger’ and Penny takes her out easily once Cinder doesn’t think she needs to dodge anymore.

I should be feeling something considering that Penny just won a battle against the woman who orchestrated her murder volumes back, in the exact same place where she died… but I’m not. Penny’s resurrection was shrugged off. Amity was used for joke license parties. I’m endlessly confused about what message RT is aiming for in regards to Penny’s autonomy (a real girl, but hackable) and this fight has been a collection of power ups, power downs, or skills just conveniently not working. What improvements has Emerald made to her semblance? This is everything we’ve seen from her before. When did we establish that Penny’s android nature makes her immune to techniques of this nature? I don’t mind that she is immune—in fact, it’s a cool skill to give her—I just wish this sort of stuff didn’t suddenly appear in the story only when the plot most needs it to. Or, to be more charitable, it would be a cool reveal if the rest of the fight held up better. I don’t mind a, “Hell yeah, Penny had the trump card she needed to win!” if the whole scene wasn’t Team Cinder being oddly weak the whole time. The most they manage to do is escape via Emerald threatening to fill the tower with holes from her gun… after the tower has had a hole blown through it, shot with flaming arrows, and had two of the beams keeping it in place melted. The most Cinder accomplishes here is unintentionally putting Penny in a position where she falls when she’s hacked. That’s it.

The villains should have won. Not just because of the team dynamics making victory a very likely outcome, but because allowing the group to successfully get their message out was one of the worst things RWBY has done to date.

Gimme just a moment to get there.

Amity is drifting back down, out of the range they need to send the broadcast, so Penny offers to “hold Amity in place” until the message is done. Pietro freaks out… why? He starts to say “Even just the temperature out there—” implying that the cold and altitude can kill Penny, except she fought Cinder outside no problem. Literally minutes ago. Hell, Cinder was fine outside and she’s not an android.

There’s that massive hole letting the atmosphere in too. I’m so confused by these conflicts that randomly appear and, as such, I can’t take the emotion attached to them seriously. How can I be invested in Pietro’s worry about this killing Penny and Penny offering to sacrifice herself when I don’t understand why it’s dangerous to begin with?

And it is treated like a sacrifice. Penny tells him that she’s trying to “live her life,” kisses Pietro as a sort of goodbye, and spends a few moments enjoying the beauty of the night sky.

She’s acting like she’s about to die and yet none of this comes across as particularly dangerous. Indeed, Penny pushes Amity for as long as Ruby’s message needs her to and then, presumably, would have come back inside, a-okay, if she hadn’t been hacked. This is like that Parks and Rec moment:

Except it’s treated seriously. Penny is doing something mundane based on what we’ve seen her do before and the fact that this cold/pressure isn’t negatively impacting anyone else who experiences it, let alone the android. So why is the story trying to convince me that this is a death sentence?

Combine this with Penny’s origins: she was built to “save the world.” That’s why Pietro created her, to fight these exact sort of battles. So why is he so resistant to her doing just that? I’m not saying he can’t change his mind and grow to love her as more than a tool—in fact, their relationship is one of the few things I’m enjoying about this volume—I just wish we’d seen how that came about. When did Pietro move from building Ironwood a weapon to having a daughter? Back in Volume 3 he was on Ironwood’s side about Penny not having friends or going out because it was too dangerous for someone like her. She has secrets to maintain and responsibilities to prep for because she was, first and foremost, created for a specific task. We get an inkling through is admission that he can’t bear to see her die again that Penny’s first destruction really changed his view of her, but all of that happened off screen. We had a whole volume with Pietro prior to this where we might have watched him struggle with his new understanding of Penny as his child, rather than dumping this on us literal seconds before she engages in this non-sacrifice. We know almost nothing about Pietro except what tiny scraps we’ve been told, so dramatic lines like, “I don’t care about the big picture, I care about my daughter!”—while wonderful—appear to come out of nowhere in regards to his development. It’s jarring. Early RWBY presented Pietro as a morally ambiguous scientist aligned with Ironwood, then he suddenly became a scientist who loved his creation in Volume 7, the scientist who betrayed Ironwood, then Volume 8 has Penny dropping “Dad” left and right and Pietro willing to throw away helping a kingdom for her sake. When did all these changes happen? Where’s the progression?

Also, I hope people understand that this is why the world needs someone like Ironwood. Is it heartwarming that Pietro wants to ditch their plan at the last second for the sake of his daughter? Hell yeah. Is that good for the millions of other people who would like their own family members to survive this war too? Nope. “I don’t care about the big picture,” while human and great characterization, is dangerous when the rest of the world depends on you. Whoever runs this show doesn’t have the luxury of saving their preferred, individual life at the expense of everyone else.

So Penny goes out and gets Amity high enough for Ruby’s recording to start, complete with her acting funny-awkward for the first few seconds.

The cameos we get throughout this? Excellent. The speech itself? Rather horrifying. So the good: we get glimpses of everyone else in this show that the story has essentially left behind. Saphron, Terra, and Whitley start things off.

(Interesting that Whitely went to his father’s office rather than his room...)

Sun and Neptune (even though that “Dude” again messes with tone).

Ilia getting a call from Ghira.

The group sitting with a recovering Nora while Ruby watches her own words with the most ridiculous expression.

Tai, desperate not to lose the one link to his daughters he’s seen in years. (Side note: I’m not interested in any of the Tai hate. He’s still at home because the writers don’t know what to do with him and because Ruby literally ran away. Are people made at Ghira and Kali for not running after their daughter too? No, because they’re minor characters that the story needed to sideline.)

Tyrian, sitting beside a very pleased looking Salem...

(Love that she’s petting him.)

Even the shop dude!

Oh yeah, and MOTHERFUCKING GLYNDA.

I’m thrilled to see her. In the sense that I love getting her in the new engine, but I’m salty that she’s unlikely to become an important part of the story again. In fact, there are so many characters at this point that she shouldn’t be re-incorporated, just because that would bloat the cast even more. That… and did they really have to give her massive cleavage? The darker glasses are fine—even if I personally found them a bit distracting compared to her original lenses—but seriously, why does a woman always reappear with even bigger breasts?

At this point everything in RWBY has a sour taste attached to it because it’s been handled so badly for so many years. It’s only now, watching them do many of the things I wanted them to do volumes ago, that I realize how badly they’ve played themselves. RT messed up so many core aspects that when they re-appear they can’t hope to provide the same sort of enjoyment we would have gotten if they’d never been dropped and/or messed up to begin with.

Case in point: Ruby’s speech. I’m not going to cover the stupidity of telling the world about Salem because I’ve already talked about that to death on my blog, but I do want to add that Ruby managed to accomplish that dubious task in the absolute worst way possible. I need a list for this one.

So, about RWBY ruining core parts of its story? We had a whole volume about how horrifying learning about Salem’s immortality was, something we never resolved because the cast randomly went from thinking they’d entered a doomed war to being #confident about how they’ll win. But at the very least they’ll be careful and considerate when they tell others that very demoralizing info, right? Ha. Ruby never even uses the term “immortal.” She mentions Salem being around for “centuries”—which, remember, was info the group also had but never put two and two together—and then says that “Just because she can’t be destroyed doesn’t mean she can’t be beaten.” What does that mean to people who have never heard of Salem before now? Ruby doesn’t even explain who she is! What’s a “force” in this context? A person? An entity? Endless grimm? She gives the people nothing here.

Alongside just casually dropping that Salem has been around for “centuries,” Ruby says that she is “a force we’ve faced before,” as if the world has ever had to deal with an outright attack from her. No, Ruby. They haven’t faced this before. That’s the point.

“I know the idea of Maidens and Relics seems crazy”—does she even mention them before this?? I don’t think she does. Ruby just name dropped two things and never bothered to explain wtf they were.

Also, great job telling the whole world, filled with bad guys not already aligned with Salem, that there are two powerful, mystery things out there that they can now start hunting down. That’s why Ozpin decided to keep the Maidens quiet in the first place. He says in Volume 3 that people were killing them when they knew they existed.

She tells everyone that Glynda and Theodore can vouch for all this information, just casually dropping that responsibility into their lap. I mean, can you even IMAGINE being Glynda right now? This kid you taught for one year heads back home after your school falls, you lose touch with the inner circle after Ozpin dies, and then said kid suddenly appears on every scroll and TV in Remnant, telling the entire world that YOU, personally, can explain to them the things you’ve helped keep hidden for a good portion of your adult life. You are one of two people they can now turn to for answers. If I were Glynda I would be furious.

She also says that Theodore and Glynda “might even be able to organize a way to fight back” RUBY. WHAT DO YOU THINK THE INNER CIRCLE WAS? A KNITTING CLUB? WHAT ELSE HAS OZPIN BEEN DOING FOR A THOUSAND YEARS EXCEPT “ORGANIZING A WAY TO FIGHT BACK”?

“But, sadly, General Ironwood can no longer be trusted.” Wow. That’s one hell of a simplified take to give to a world already working under the incorrect assumption that Atlas caused the Fall of Beacon, an assumption Ruby admitted was wrong to Cordovin. So let’s unite the world except for this one leader, right? So much for practicing what you preach.

“If she was really unstoppable she wouldn’t have acted with such caution before now.” Oh boy, that’s risking a lot on Ruby’s interpretation of Salem’s motives. After eight years even we, the audience, don’t know why Salem didn’t attack until now, so where did Ruby get the idea that it must be because she fears them? That’s not the real explanation based on how happy Salem looks while hearing the message. When did Ruby even think about this? Outside of Nora’s realization that maybe someone other than Ozpin could beat her, we haven’t seen the group discuss Salem at all, but now Ruby thinks she has everything figured out? I honestly want her to explain her thought process here. Does she think Ozpin was mistaken about the immortality business and if he’d just had the guts to unite everyone and attack her, Salem would have been defeated lifetimes ago?

(Funny how that was Ironwood’s plan...)

Ruby ends with another call to band together because “That’s how we’ll win!” complete with smiling energy.

With the exception of the cameos I hated every moment of this. The unclear reason why Ruby thinks bringing the world together is the answer in the face of how badly that’s gone each and every time others have done it, Amity magically becoming available for them to use, her dropping in random beliefs we’ve never seen her express before, turning the whole world against Ironwood, failing to actually explain any of this… I mean, imagine you’re in Remnant’s place for a second:

This child (looking entirely unprepared) suddenly hacks every device and tells you that the most powerful kingdom in the world is under attack. Who is attacking it? It’s someone you’re familiar with! But not really. It’s Salem. Who’s Salem? I won’t say, but she’s responsible for every bad thing from the White Fang to the grimm themselves. Those Relics and Maidens, those are real crazy sounding, huh? Oh, I forgot to say what they are? Nm that’s not important. Talk to my old teacher and someone I’ve never met if you’re confused. What is important is that we all come together. Except Ironwood. I don’t trust him. But I expect you all to trust everyone else, including me! Because we can totally win against this “force” I haven’t defined. You should help us. In whatever non-specific way you choose. Should you come to Atlas and save us all from the confusingly explained attack we’re under? Fight an immortal enemy somehow, with the forces you don’t have, cross who knows how many miles in under a day? I don’t know. You all can figure the preparations part out :)

If I were watching I would, at best, think this was a prank. At worst I’d be panicking over a whole lot of scary information, none of which I understand. Which in this world brings grimm.

Ruby should, in an internally consistent story, have just caused a massive number of attacks across the globe. She should be responsible for the biggest mass grimm death Remnant has ever seen. In fact, that’s my final hope for the series. I want the world to lose its mind at this confusing, terrifying announcement, from rioting in the streets to grimm swarming major cities. Ruby is left dumbfounded at the destruction she’s caused. No one can—or will—come to assist Atlas. The Kingdom falls, taking plenty of civilians with it. Ozpin escapes and is finally allowed his anger, wanting to know how the safety measures he spent lifetimes building were undone by her in one profoundly stupid move. Ironwood (if he’s still alive) coldly tells them that they could have left and saved who and what they had at the time. Ren is proven right.

I need this story to decimate our heroes, humble them, and then let them rebuild. Teach Ruby something and let her grow from it, making up for her mistakes as she goes. Because for two and a half seasons now we’ve watched this girl commit one horrible act after another—whether it’s attacking allies or unintentionally giving the world the most damaging message possible—and something needs to come out of all that.

Can’t say I’m too hopeful of seeing that though :/

The rest of the episode isn’t any better. Ironwood continues his stupidity streak by trusting Watts to do the hack himself. I really can’t believe this is what his character has been reduced to. Granted, it appears as if Watts really did do what he was asked, it’s just that none of them could have known Penny would be outside of Amity and at the height of an airplane when her systems went offline. That trust does, however, allow Watts to nab Ironwood’s crushed scroll before he’s taken back to his cell. Because, you know, at this point Ironwood is so stupid he just chucks personal tech at a villain and thinks nothing of it.

Also... all this happens before the jail scene last episode when Watts was returned, but after Ruby’s group gets to the Schnee manor. The bingo board is getting another check.

Ironwood says that “It seems Polendina’s proxy trick worked.” So Pietro deliberately built Penny with this kill switch (for lack of a better word) embedded? In this villain!Ironwood world, is the story ever going to acknowledge that Pietro is far from innocent, having helped to create and support all the things people hate about how Ironwood (supposedly) interacts with Penny?

Penny’s hack doesn’t take until Ruby’s message is complete, because of course it doesn’t.

Yang’s group is all excited—“That was the broadcast!”—despite not having a signal last episode. If they can use their scrolls at the outpost, why didn’t they call for help?

Penny then says “I love you” to Pietro before she—maybe?—falls to her second death. I don’t know. This absolutely deserves a longer rant because either Penny was resurrected for a brief, narratively meaningless existence before dying again, or we’re expected to believe that she’s falling far and fast enough to become a meteor, but will turn out just fine. Perhaps the show will forget that Pietro said he couldn’t rebuild her again. I pretty much expect it at this point.

(Either that, or Pietro will sacrifice himself for Penny. Coming at it from a father-daughter relationship, I like the idea. As a black man dying for his white daughter in a show notorious for how it has handled its race allegory... ehhhh.)

Then, we end this episode with “a river of grimm.”

????????????????????

What?

Seriously, am I the only one who laughed during that moment? It sounds ridiculous. What does that even mean, “a river of grimm”? Did Salem expand her territory somehow? Is this the same grimm soup she makes them out of? What, can she just cover the whole world with grimm making goo now? Out of everything that could have been coming out of the ice, THAT’S what we end on?

I think this episode may have broken me lol. There was so much that I knew I was meant to be invested in, so many moments trying their hardest to be emotionally compelling… and only the tinniest slivers of it worked. I want to care about Penny falling. I want to care (more) about an unexpected Glynda appearance. I want to be cheering for Ruby’s message getting out, but it’s all just so badly done. I ended this episode feeling like I had watched a RWBY parody rather than an episode. Like for funsies someone had pulled together the most ridiculous ideas they could think of, like:

The villains come and then immediately leave again, like in Fury Road except in this case that’s not the point of the story.

Super powerful fighter gets her ass kicked by laughing grandma.

Nonsensical sacrifice going on but give it just a hint of ~real~ emotion.

Huge reveal for the rest of the world but the message with be near incomprehensible.

Toss in random characters we haven’t seen in years, people love that.

End the episode with grimm soup flowing towards the kingdom.

It honestly feels like someone set out to write an absurd episode, but then gave it just enough artistry that the viewer finishing the vid goes, “Why am I actually invested in this omg lol.” Except when that’s your canon we’ve got a problem.

I don’t know. At this point RWBY is so broken I can’t even articulate everything that’s continually going wrong when we get an episode like this one. For anyone who may have missed it, we’ve got two more episodes before a six week hiatus and frankly I’m glad. Mostly because I obviously want our crew to have the time they need to keep their sanity intact during the hell that is 2020 and the likely hell that will be 2021, also because that will give them time to spruce up the second half of the volume… but there’s also a part of me that’s just glad for a break. There are still pieces in RWBY I enjoy (like the Hound, or dad!Pietro, always Ozpin) and I love writing these recaps, but it says a lot about the writing that I hear we won’t get RWBY for two solid months and I am, at best, indifferent. Can’t mess up what you don’t air, right? 😂

Man, this bingo card… it’s getting three marks today. “Two day timeline wreaks havoc on continuity,” “Needless episode cliffhanger” (grimm river??), and “The team gets Amity up and running.” Yet we somehow STILL don’t have a bingo. Amazing.

Alright, I’m done. If you enjoyed this episode, bless you. I’m really glad. Please enjoy it for the both of us. And pray for us all over the next two weeks 💜

[Ko-Fi]

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #mymetas #rwby recaps

121 notes · View notes