#DYNAMITE SHOWS HOLE

[navy-leader]

Bababoom baby

#navy arts #showing hole (the ones on his hands and feet) #stickman oc #navy ocs #stickfigure #dynamite #yaoi guys

[abominable-space-they]

Another Au centered around music & punk Steve(sorta) bc of Steddie twt talking abt switching it up to celebrity Steve & just some guy Eddie.

I do love a good trope reversal

Underground Metal Eddie x (pop)punk Steve

Eddie working at a guitar shop that mostly catered to metal & hard rock musicians with a preference for a certain crunchy sound.

Since he was into a very specific niche of gay power & thrash metal, Eddie didn't know Steve was a pop punk star when they meet

He knew who Stevie Dynamite was, of course he did, everyone did. He knew that the guy debuted at 15, was supposed to be some musical genius who could play any instrument.

Eddie remembered the early songs because they were so personal, haunting little folk proto punk songs w/ a glam pop edge about identity, isolation, & loneliness. They weren't his thing but they were better then the usual radio fare.

Three years later after a series of salacious magazine spreads, notoriously explosive deals with several different make-up and high end hair care lines, more scandals then you could count, public partying, public meltdowns, cancelled shows, article after article abt the King of Pop Rock losing his touch, a mediocre album full of bubble gum party till you drop songs, and open speculation abt the nature of his relationship with indie pop darling Birdie (but Eddie knows that's not what ppl think it is. Her music is wall to wall barely subtle sapphic yearning, if there's one thing he knows it's gay subtext)

The rumors got louder & more dramatic until, five years after he rocketed to superstardom Stevie Dynamite publicly sued his label & parents for control of his image & brand.

He won

Then he quietly disappeared.

Thus was the end of the bigger then life legend of Stevie Dynamite

So when Steve Harrington walked into the guitar store on some lazy Monday afternoon while Eddie was sitting behind the counter working on a song in his downtime. He had no idea who Steve was.

When the unknown hot guy in a Violent Femmes hoodie & a plain black beanie struck up a conversation about Eddie's lyrics he thought Steve was just another life long grind musician wanting to talk shop

When the guy introduced himself as Steve, Eddie didn't think anything in particular about it

When Steve seemed to be flirting a little Eddie chalked it up to the guy wanting a discount on whatever he was in to buy.

When he dragged Stevie Dynamite viscously for being an absolute fake from top to bottom, when one of his newer songs came on the shop radio, Eddie laughed and agreed.

When Steve asked Eddie for help choosing a guitar with a very particular pensive but angry victorious sound he was happy to help (Steve paid full price & if he was annoyed he didn't show it)

When the guy came in again next monday for a new amp, and the Monday after that for new strings Eddie was confused but happy to see him

When Steve came in the Monday after that asking for help with the writing of a song, a service he would be happy to pay for, Eddie said yes against his better judgement. He knew he was well and truly fucked by the happy burbling in his stomach at the thought of creating music with this incredibly hot man.

When they spent six months of Mondays holed up in the break room working on lyrics, Eddie tried not to examine what it meant.

And when Steve abruptly didn't come by one Monday, Eddie had no idea what the hell happened but he was disappointed.

When one Monday no show, became two, then three, Eddie decided he must've been ghosted, he picked his embarrassingly broken heart up off the floor and kept going, resigned to never knowing what happened with Steve.

In fact Eddie had no idea that Steve Harrington was Stevie Dynamite until the first royalty check came in with a $ number so high, Eddie thought he probably died without realizing it. He'd never even dreamed of holding that much money in his hand at one time.

The check was from Dynamite Records?!?!?! Stevie Dynamite's personal label?!?!

Through a haze Eddie remembered that a a few weeks ago Stevie Dynamite had released his first post corporate divorce album to a tidal wave of media fanfare and critical acclaim. Everyone who had an opinion about music swore the real Stevie Dynamite was back on top again. Eddie barely noticed it, he'd been to busy not caring that Steve ghosted him to pay attention to yet another meaningless corporate shill telling him to dance all night

He called the corporate number on the check

"Dynamite Records, Jonathan Byers speaking, how may I help you?"

"uhh yeah man, I think there's been some sort of mix up. I uhh-, Look my name is Eddie Munson & as much as I would love to keep this check. It couldn't possibly be for me and I really don't want to get sent to prison for check fraud so maybe someone should come and get it or something."

The man, on the either end of the line immediately relaxed into a more casual manner.

"Eddie hey man, I've heard so much about you. It's definitely not a mistake, he wanted you to have credit since you guys wrote the songs together."

"uhh not to seem totally clueless or whatever Mr Byers, but umm He who?"

"Jonathan is actually totally fine, we're all family here right? Stevie Dynamite of course"

"Ok, but how in the world does Stevie Dynamite know me & why would he want me to get writing royalties on his new songs?"

"... Fuck...He still hasn't told you has he?"

"told me what?"

Jonathan sighed a kindly exasperated sigh on the other end of the line.

"Eddie have you looked at the new Stevie Dynamite album?"

"No-, I uhh no offense or anything it's just glam rock pop punk isn't really my thing."

"it's fine, it's not mine either-, hmm well are you at work? No of course you are that's where we sent the check. He didn't know your home address. You know, I should've known he didn't tell you now that I think about it. Why don't you go take a peek, pay specifical attention to the dedication. I'll wait here."

Eddie heard some rustling as Jonathan leaned back, talking to someone else apparently.

"Argyle, babe, you wouldn't believe this. He still hasn't told Eddie."

Even further away he heard a good natured huff of laughter.

"Bro? No shit. Man... Babe, your ex is so beautifully weird. I wish I found out a pop star was in love with me w/ a fat check and an album full of love songs. Stevie boy has style at least... wanna hit this?"

What the hell was that all about? If they were getting high he might as well just go look at the album right? Right. No time like the present.

Eddie didn't know why he was so nervous

The album cover wasn't anything remarkable, tattoo flash art of a nail bat, a weird flower full of serrated teeth, and a guitar. It was called "Stevie Dynamite: Love, Death, and a Baseball Bat Named Baby"

Inside there was a lot of concept photography, Stevie Dynamite after a show, make-up smeared, staring into a mirror with empty eyes. Each page of lyrics had a new picture of Stevie with some of the glamorous accoutrements removed staring at himself in the mirror, first he took off his shiny rock and roll lace top, then he replaced his leather pants with sweats, the next he had on an old beat up violent femmes hoodie, lastly he took off all the flashy metallic glam rock make up.

The last picture was just Stevie Dynamite, No, Steve Harrington, his Steve Harrington fresh faced, staring into the camera with a note superimposed, written in loopy feminine handwriting, the dedication.

'To Eddie who's inspired me since the day I met him, who never gave a damn about Stevie Dynamite'a fame or reputation, who was kind to me because that's just who he is.

To Eddie who helped me find my love of music again, reminded me why I was here in the first place, and helped me write the most sincere and meaningful songs I ever have.

To the Eddie I was so afraid of losing to the gossip machine I couldn't quite tell the truth.

All those dumb love songs that you were always teasing me about writing were for you Eddie. No matter what, you deserve to know that. I'm sorry, I hope you can forgive me.

I love you,

Stevie Dynamite

(but you can still call me Steve if you want to)'

Eddie felt faint again. He picked the phone back up

"What the fuck Jonathan?"

"Yeah, man what the fuck. But that's our boy Stevie, passionate, loyal to death and back, more than a little impulsive, and terrified of his feelings. Once he decides he loves you, he's impossible to shake. I'm so sorry he sprang this on you like this man, but Argyle's almost done getting him ready. I'll send him your way when we're done ok?"

Eddie wasn't sure what he was agreeing to but he still agreed.

20 minutes later a leather clad pop rock god, slouched in, looked around from behind his dark sunglasses with disinterested affected distance, pushed those sunglasses up onto his head and magically transmogrified into Steve Harrington, the guy he'd been pining over for a month. They both sat in silence, each afraid to go first. Finally Steve cleared his throat and broke the oppressive quiet

"I'm sorry I stopped coming by, I was so afraid that once you knew you'd only see Stevie, not me anymore. I couldn't bear losing another person I loved to him. God he sucks."

"But... you're Stevie Dynamite right? I haven't hallucinated all this, right?

"No no, you definitely didn't. I mean, yeah technically I'm him, but he's still the worst. I kinda hate him"

"uhhh...."

"I know it's weird"

"No I get it-, I think,-, trapped in reputations of our own making and all-, but uhhh... You love me?"

"Yeah Eddie of course! How could I do anything else but love you? Didn't you listen to the album?"

"uhh-, well-, No? Glam Rock Pop Punk just isn't my thing"

To Eddie's surprise, Steve broke out in a radiant smile.

"Of course you didn't, what was I thinking? All that worry for nothing. I'm so-... Hey I'm about to go play a private vip show to celebrate the album's success, you want to come? I promise I'll explain everything-, No pressure though!"

Eddie still wasn't sure exactly what he was agreeing to, but couldn't even feel to bad about it when Steve blushed, radiant, bigger then life, like a rock god, as he pulled Eddie out the door.

Right then and there Eddie made a pact with himself to keep saying yes to Steve as long as Steve bothered to ask. He was to precious not to.

#stranger things #fanfic #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #stranger things au #fluff #punk steve au #punk steve harrington #punk au #pop star au #rocker!eddie #punk!steve #slow burn #stranger things music au #steve stranger things #stranger things eddie

[quitealotofsodapop]

I know the Noodle Shop crew is of the opinion that Wukong throwing his ring off in a random direction and forgetting about it was a pretty bad hiding place, but... tbh... it really wasn't. Or rather, at the time period in which Wukong had hidden the ring, it wasn't. He'd picked a seemingly random, uninhabited patch of earth and thrown the ring as hard as he could into it (which, considering it's Sun Wukong, the famous monkey king known for his sheer, raw power capable of destroying mountains, isn't anything to sniff at) burying it potentially thousands of feet into a giant crater. He had no way of knowing settlers would eventually take up residency there or find it, much less be able to dig it up! Preminitions and seeing into the future was never a part of Wukong's skillset. And if he just forgot about it, then that's less of a chance for someone to use him to find it later. I stand by the fact that this was not a bad hiding place at all, considering the circumstances surrounding them at the time in an era in which was Sun Wukong in his prime, not just a wild monkey he started as or the broken down warrior hiding behind a lackadaisical attitude we know him as now.

I love this. He ain't dumb. Nezha's ring literally got found by Chang'e the second it landed on the Moon. And if not her, NASA a few centuries later. DBK's didn't get found simply because it was with him when him and Wukong had their fight, and it got buried with him.

Hilarious idea where Lantern City has a museum dedicated to their history as a mining community - including a view of the pit where they uncovered the coveted Ring of Light.

Wukong gets annoyed by the crew calling his choice of hiding spot "stupid" and drags them to the museum to show them how good it was.

Instead of being "just a hole in the ground" they see something like this protected by many guardrails.

A mine shaft requiring at least over 500 years of mining innovation to build, and dynamite to break open the hard granite.

Wukong smiles smugly as the gang realises how deep he tossed the ring into the earth all those centuries ago. He buys some fake Rings of Light from the gift shop on his way out.

#lmk #lego monkie kid #sun wukong #wukong isn't dumb yall #who would have looked in bedrock?

[sydsaint]

Please I love this secret softie so much 😩

Summary: Adam pairs the reader off with Max to get rid of him for the night. The reader finds it to be a nuisance at first. But she quickly learns that there is more to Max than what everyone sees on tv.

It's a typical Wednesday night for the AEW roster. Dynamite is about halfway through its broadcast and the team of MJF and Adam Cole have just picked up another win in the blind tag team elim tournament. 

"Great work out there, Adam, good buddy." Max playfully hits Adam on the back of the shoulder with a hearty chuckle. 

"Yeah, thanks." Adam nods stiffly, still not used to Max being this friendly. 

The pair are returning to the locker rooms when Adam spots Roderick coming down the hall, and you're with him. He grits his teeth at the thought of dealing with another bout of Roderick and Max drama. 

"Hey, Adam, buddy. Isn't that Roderick down the hall?" Max speaks up after a moment. "Woah! And who's the hottie that's with him?" He adds when he spots you next to Roderick. 

"That's my sister," Adam replies dryly. "Y/N." 

Max's eyes widen in surprise as you grow closer with Roderick in tow. The two of you are casually catching up since you haven't seen Roderick in a while. "Your sister?" Max repeats Adam. "I didn't know you had a sister." 

"Well, I do." Adam nods. "Y/N, Roddy! What are you two doing here?" He asks when you finally get to his side. 

"I'm here catching up with Roddy." You shrug. "And Roddy's just here to film some stuff for next week's show." You add. "Who's your buddy?" 

Adam glances at Max who is essentially staring a hole into your head before he turns back to you and Roddy, a plan now implanted in his head. "This is Max, my tag partner for the tournament." He explains. "Hey, can I talk to you for a second, Y/N?" He asks you. 

"Sure." You shrug and step away from Roderick and Max with Adam. "What do you want?" You ask your brother plainly. "And don't act like you don't want something, Adam. I can tell by the look on your face that you do." 

"Guilty," Adam admits. "Listen can you do me a favor and please hang out with Max for the rest of the night?" He asks you. 

Your jaw twitches in response to Adam's request. "Really?" You narrow your eyes at him. "Why me?" 

"He thinks you're hot," Adam explains. "Please, Y/N? He's driving me insane." He pleads with you. 

"So you want to drop him on me so he can bother me instead?" You reply. 

"It's just for tonight, I promise." Adam doesn't let up. "Come on! Just take him out for drinks and make him buy." He suggests. 

You close your eyes and let out a small sigh. "Fine." You grit your teeth. "But you owe me, Adam!" You poke his chest. 

"I know." Adam nods. "Thank you." 

"Yeah yeah." You sigh again. "Hey, Max!" You turn and walk back over to Max and Roderick. "We're all planning on heading out for drinks tonight, but I'm leaving right now. You want to come with me?" You ask him. 

"Really?" Max replies. "Adam, you didn't mention that we were gonna get drinks after the show." He turns to Adam. 

Adam shrugs and quickly makes up a lie to cover his ass. "Uh, yeah." He nods. "I was going to tell you when we got back to the locker room." 

"Oh." Max nods. "Yeah, sure. I'm always doing for a little pre-gaming before the real fun begins. I'll see you in a bit then, buddy." He grins at Adam. 

"Right." Adam flashes you a pleading look. 

You get the hint and begrudgingly tap Max on the shoulder. "Come on, let's get out of here. Adam, We'll see you in a bit. Say hey to Britt for me." You dismiss yourself and Max. 

The journey from the arena out to one of the bars nearby is mostly silent. It isn't until you and Max are settled at the end of the bar does he really speaks up. 

"Get whatever you want. The first round is on me." Max offers with a smile. 

"Thanks." You match his smile and order a drink from the bartender. 

You and Max both get your drinks and fall into a casual conversation. "So, Adam didn't tell me that he had a sister," Max explains. "What do you do for a living? You in the business like Adam?" He asks you. 

"I wrestle for ROH." You nod and take a sip from your drink. "Have been for about 10 years now." You add. 

"Really?" Max replies with intrigue. "You must wrestle under a different name?" 

You take another sip from your drink and scan the bar. As you look around a reasonably attractive guy catches your eye for a second. You smile at him before you turn back to Max. "Yeah, I didn't want to deal with the drama and piggyback of using the Cole name when Adam was already getting so popular." 

"Right. You wanted to make your own name." Max nods. 

"Exactly." You are a bit surprised by Max's understanding of your situation. "Anywho, what about you? How is tagging with Adam going? Weren't you two at one another's throats a few months ago?" You ask him. 

Max nods and brings his drink to his lips. "Yeah, I guess we did kind of hate each other for a while there." He chuckles. "But I don't know. Adam kind of seems like he's willing to let the past be in the past you know? At least I hope he does. I've been having fun these past few weeks with him. He's a good friend." 

"None of your other friends are jealous of Adam getting all your attention?" You joke with a small laugh. 

"No, not really," Max replies quietly and you notice him fidgeting with his glass. "Truth be told, I don't really have many friends." He chuckles to himself. "Everyone is just kind of gone now. Not that I'm not the one that burned all those bridges." He explains. 

Your eyes widen a little bit at Max's surprising heartfelt confession. "Oh." You reply quietly and finish off your drink. "Yeah, I kind of know what you mean." You let out a small sigh. "Sure, when you've been in the business long enough, you're bound to burn some bridges and make some enemies. But I'd like to think that I've burned just a few more than I should have." 

"You too huh?" Max matches your self-deprecating laugh. 

You and Max talk a little bit more about work and your habit of making enemies out of friends. And soon enough, you start to feel bad that you assumed that Friedman was a bad guy. 

"Hey, can I tell you something, Max?" You ask after you've got a few drinks in you. 

"Sure." Max nods. "What's up." 

You play with your empty glass for a moment and try to get over your embarrassment. "Adam kind of asked me to take you out for drinks so he could get away for the night." You explain sheepishly. "He's not coming." 

"...Oh," Max replies quietly and your heart breaks. 

"I'm so sorry." You shake your head. "I've heard so many stories about how much of an egotistical dickhead you are. And I just assumed that all the stories were true. But we've been sitting here for like 3 hours now. And you're not! You really seem like a great guy! And I'm the one that's a total bitch here." 

You finish your confession and study Max's face while you wait for a response. And you fully expect Max to either chew you out or simply just get up and ditch you right then and there. But he doesn't. Instead, you watch him compose himself and beckon the bartender over for another drink. 

"It's alright." Max turns to you while the bartender is getting you and Max both another drink. "Trust me, I know how unbearable I can get at times." He chuckles. "Adam probably just wanted some time alone with Britt. I get it. And I get you thinking that way about me. Everyone believes it. Trust me." He adds. 

"Do you want me to go?" You move to get out of your chair and leave. 

Max shakes his head and hands you a fresh drink. "You can if you want." He assures you. "But I'd like to keep this night going if you do too. Personally, I think that it's time that both of us stop burning those bridges when things get tough." 

"Yeah? Me too. Thanks, Max." You nod and sit back down in your seat. 

#wrestling #aew #aew dynamite #all elite wrestling #aew dark #aew fanfiction #aew imagine #aew elevation #aew wrestling #mjf imagine #mjf #mjf aew #maxwell jacob friedman #mjf & adam #adam cole #aew collision

[rottenpumpkin13]

Mass text from Director Lazard:

Attention! According to my sources, the Department of SOLDIER is getting a surprise inspection by the President in less than 2 hours. Please wear your uniforms (shirt included!) and be on your best behaviour. If you have to, you can use the storage room 4903, but please no human or animal corpses this time. Use the incinerator in R&D. Please remember to pick up all your belongings after the inspection, let's not traumatise our cleaning staff again.

The Fire Olympics scheduled for Saturday is an unofficial event and we are NOT going to mention it to the President.

Kind regards,

Lazard

Inspection Day

• Lazard sends the email, then casually goes back to work, reviewing some documents, the norm. The SOLDIERs are a handful, sure, but trusts his men. They're good people and that's why he's letting them have the fire olympics. After all, they deserve it. They've been on his best behavior lately and—why does he smell smoke and hear screaming?

• He gets up and rushes out into the main hallway.

• First thing he sees is Sephiroth running from a determined Angeal and four other SOLDIERs. Angeal has a uniform shirt in his hands and the others are all holding tranquilizer guns.

• Angeal is laughing manically while chasing him, screaming "HAHA WE GOT YOU NOW BITCH" and Sephiroth is heard replying with "I REFUSE. NEVER. OVER MY DEAD BODY."

• Genesis is crying. He's playing tug of war with his red coat while two 3rds try to wrestle it away from him.

SOLDIER: Commander, I understand why you're upset, but it's not part of the issued uniform!

Genesis: But I'm the Crimson Commander! The Red Mage of ShinRa! How else am I supposed to show that I'm special!?

• Meanwhile Kunsel stumbles out of Genesis's office looking dazed and petrified.

Kunsel: The amount of illegal shit in this man's office OH MY god. Zack! Hey Zack, help us drag some of this kerosene, gasoline, fireworks, Molotov cocktails, Dynamite, Sephiroth cardboard cutout filled with bullet holes, and what I hope isn't drugs down into the storage room...Zack? Zack, where are you going?

• Zack ignores him. He's holding a box of leashes and cages and looks as white as a sheet.

Zack, mumbling to himself: I knew this was going to happen one day. Okay, Zack, you got this. You got this, don't panic.

• And then Cloud stumbles out of Angeal's office holding a.... suspicious..plant.

Cloud: CODE RED. CODE FUCKING RED. HEWLEY HAD MARIJUANA IN HIS OFFICE.

• Angeal, who was passing by holding a struggling Sephiroth with duct tape over his mouth, stops cold in his tracks.

Angeal: I had WHAT in my office?

Genesis, hopeful: Oh! It grew!? <3

Angeal: YOU WERE GROWING WEED IN MY OFFICE???

• At that moment Zack walks buy with about 8 dogs on leashes and a cage under his arm that contains a feral hamster.

• But no one pays attention because Sephiroth has freed himself, tears away his shirt, and is running away screaming through his duct taped mouth.

• Angeal and the other SOLDIERs run after him, nearly crashing into a dispirited Roche coming in

Roche: Bad news, guys. How are we gonna cover the hole in the lounge wall from the time I drove through it on my bike?

• Zack walks buy with 3 pigs on leashes and an exotic bird on his shoulder.

• Angeal walks back in dragging Sephiroth. Sephiroth has his hands and feet bound. They put him in another shirt and are now left with the arduous task of tying his hair up.

Sephiroth: #$*@&!

Angeal: Woah! You kiss your mother with that mouth?

Sephiroth:

Angeal: Ah shit, man, sorry.

• Zack rides by on a horse.

• Genesis walks in wearing the standard SOLDIER uniform without his added accessories.

Genesis: No, no, noooo! I look so boring! How am I supposed to—ACK!

• Kunsel crashes through the ceiling and falls on top of Genesis. Genesis is now partially unconscious on the floor covered in white dust, and there is now a gaping hole in the ceiling.

• Kunsel: Guys, quick, someone help me burn these illegal documents I stole from the turks and was hiding in the vents!

• A few SOLDIERS run out of the elevator hacking and coughing with watering eyes.

Luxiere: Commander Rhapsodos's illegal items broke the incinerator.

• Zack runs by chasing 7 chickens.

• Cloud runs in.

Cloud: You're not gonna believe this! Remember the stolen materia the Turks were investigating a few months back? I found the stash here. The culprit is a SOLDIER!

Genesis: Well they're not going to confiscate MY loot!

Cloud: IT WAS YOU!?

• Zack passes by with what could potentially be all of the Chocobos in Midgar.

• Angeal finally gets Sephiroth into the complete, official SOLDIER uniform sans accessories. Sephiroth looks severely miffed and wants to run away, but Angeal is holding a tranquilizer gun.

• Zack walks by with an Alligator. It's notable to mention that the alligator has a name tag that reads Lacoste.

• And then Roche walks back in.

Roche: Im gonna pass out. Did you guys read the handbook? Article 38 says all SOLDIER operatives cannot have hair that exceeds 30 centimeters.

• Angeal looks at Sephiroth.

• Sephiroth looks at Angeal.

• Angeal pulls out a razor.

Sephiroth: OH NO YOU DON'T

• Both he and Roche run away screaming.

Genesis: Oh, I almost forgot about the stripper pole we installed in the gym. Better go take that down.

• Zack rushes by riding an ostrich.

Lazard: I'm going to get fired.

#ffvii #ff7 #final fantasy 7 #genesis rhapsodos #sephiroth #ffvii crisis core #final fantasy #ff7r #angeal hewley #zack fair #cloud strife #roche ff7r #final fantasy vii #ff7 crisis core #crisis core #final fantasy crisis core #incorrect ffvii #incorrect final fantasy

[plzu]

crushed croissant - (Adrian Chase x Reader)

part seven← ☕️ series masterlist ☕️ ao3

a/n: getting to explore the difference in headspace of both adrian and reader in one chapter is soooo much fun summary: Vigilante is too busy with the Task Force to visit you at work. But when he finally does, he tells you everything he's been up to. You're not sure you like his stories very much. warnings: mentions of canon-accurate violence, the word "rapey" is used once, cheating in a broad/general sense (as in it might not be considered cheating to some, but would be to others), no y/n wordcount: 5.2k

Something in the air at home has definitely shifted. You've been waiting for your mother to snap. To blow up. Surely the fuse of her anger is due to erupt, explode in a fury where she hurls insults at you. It's long overdue, anyway.

But when you see your father sitting in the living room, or at the kitchen table, head hung in despair over a glass of whiskey, you get the sense your mother hasn't been home much.

Your dad has barely spared you a second glance since the day he yelled at you. Like all the fight has left his body, like he can't bring himself to care after your mother's own blasé comments that morning.

Maybe this -- plus your mother's seemingly sudden absence from home -- should be concerning. But there's this tentative fluttering hope in your chest over the tiniest taste of this newfound freedom that you haven't had since moving back to Evergreen. Like you can finally roam around your parent's house without trying to avoid them.

You still err on the side of caution, of course. But still. Being able to venture into the kitchen for a cup of coffee in the mornings without the heart rate of someone being hunted for sport has been a nice, welcome change of pace.

Maybe actual licensed therapists would disagree, but Adrian found blowing shit up in the woods with his BFF pretty therapeutic. Especially after said BFF has been in prison for several years with zero means of communication from the outside world.

Something about the morass underfoot, wet dead leaves sticking to the soles of his boots. That same soft earth cushioning his fall as he flung himself away from exploding dynamites (chucked by Peacemaker, aimed directly at him! Classic). Shooting various holes into appliances and shattering the glass of old blenders and coffee carafes, a riot and a comfort, the raucous laughter of two grown men being drowned out by explosions and swallowed up by the canopy of the tall trees.

It gave Adrian an adrenaline rush, the kind he can only feel as Vigilante. It reassured him that his place in Peacemaker's life was not being threatened. There's still space for him, this easy camaraderie. They still make a badass team.  

A badass team that still brings chicks back to Chris’ trailer that they can share, apparently. 

Adrian has never taken issue with bedding babes with Chris. 

He's always careful to keep the Vigilante mask on, makes sure everyone involved knows not to even think about trying to touch his face. Getting his dick touched now and then offered a sweet relief, even if the main reason he was even hard to begin with was because Christopher Smith was involved.

Mostly, though, Adrian just appreciated whatever bonding time he could get in with Peacemaker. It was one of those things that, in the beginning, was something he agreed to in order to grow closer with the man he’s looked up to since he was a kid, and show him that  Vigilante is a real bro’s bro deserving of his respect. Earn his spot as the cool, kickass partner Peacemaker deserved. Well, besides Eagly, of course.  

(And getting to show off how far he's come since his 'Thimble' days, even if Chris doesn't know it's Adrian under the mask, was a nice bonus, too.)

And so while Vigilante should have no qualms with sharing some brunette that Chris invited back to his trailer (which, like, totally understandable after being locked up for so long), it is Adrian that hesitates.

“I don't know if I can do this, man.”

Chris snorts as the uncertainty in his voice. “What, did you get a girlfriend or something while I was gone?” He smirks as if such a suggestion could only be a joke. 

Vigilante looks at him. Hasn’t Chris read his texts since being back? Or listened during their special bonding time blowing shit up in the woods? “Dude, I told you! There’s the barista I've been seeing.”

“What? So? Did you guys have the talk?”

“Dude,” he giggles. “We both know where babies come from.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “Not that talk, dipshit. Did you two establish a relationship? A monogamous one?”

Adrian thinks about the quiet way you called him your best friend. He also thinks about the way you've only ever touched each other with clothes on.

The way none of this establishes any sort of relationship beyond friends with benefits. Even if those benefits just leave him stiff in his jeans.

“I... guess not,” he answers Chris, a little unsure.

“Then you can still bone whoever you want, dude,” says Chris, the near-constant impatience clear in his tone. 

“I'm not gonna force you, obviously, because that would be fucked up and rapey,” he continues, straight-faced, throwing his hands up defensively. “But there is a hot, underappreciated woman waiting for us to show her the best railing she's probably had in months. Honestly, maybe even years. That Evan guy doesn’t seem to realize how good he has it. So I'm heading inside to deliver multiple, mind-blowing orgasms, and you're free to join. Or not!”

Chris disappears inside his trailer, and Adrian is left outside with Eagly, who just stares up at him with its round, yellow eyes.

“What do you think I should do, Eagly?”

The large bird says nothing. Just cocks its white feathered head before tottering off the porch and flying away.

Adrian sighs. 

There was this slightly turbulent, uncomfortable feeling at the idea that sleeping with someone would somehow be a betrayal to you. But Chris' words eases some of that worry, once again enlightening Adrian in only the way Christopher Smith can. You and Adrian have not  established any sort of relationship beyond the PG-13 makeout sessions and hanging out at bars and fast food joints. And Adrian is no stranger to hooking up with people in a no-strings attached kind of way. Moreso as Vigilante with Peacemaker, sure, but Adrian has had his fair share of one-night stands purely for the occasional sexual relief.

As special as spending time with you is, way more special than any past random hook-ups Adrian’s had, he has to remember that you two are just friends.

And so, with a clear conscience, he steps into Chris’ trailer.

Going days without seeing Adrian's bare, open face is making you feel... withdrawal symptoms. Dramatic? Maybe. But the firecracker pops of color he usually brings with him has been scant, making the dreary monochrome of Evergreen bleed back into the cafe. It turns you slump-shouldered and sullen.

“Hey.”

Emerging from the bitter clouds of your thoughts and into the mundane early evening of the cafe, you blink back to reality and watch Ashe's concerned face come into focus.

“Is everything okay?” Their tone carries the worried weight of someone approaching a wild, wounded animal.

Are you wounded?

Well.

It feels like there hasn’t been anytime for you anymore, now that this Peacemaker guy is back. And it hurts, admittedly. Which is stupid, and you feel bad about it because of course Adrian is going to want to catch up with an old friend that he hasn’t seen in years. So the pain of your guilt over your selfish feelings hurts, too. 

But you haven't had the chance to feel the warmth of his touch since the night that changed everything, and it’s startling to realize how much you’ve come to rely on it for your sanity. The longer you go without the feel of his heat pressed against you, the colder the days seem to leave you.

Realizing you haven't responded to Ashe yet, you force out a non-commital grunt and continue stocking and reorganizing the pastries for tomorrow.

This, for whatever reason, does not convince Ashe that everything is, in fact, okay. Their voice lowers into that of delicate understanding.

“Did you and Adrian... break up?” They grimace, seemingly afraid of the answer. “He hasn't stopped by lately.”

True. Adrian hasn’t been by to visit during the day. No more quick hellos before his shift at Fennel Fields starts. Just late night visits from Vigilante instead, before he runs off to his other best friend.

Your head snaps to face Ashe again. “We're not-” you start, but then clamp your jaw shut. An insecure clack of your teeth. You look away, avoiding their gaze. “It’s not like that with Adrian.”

“Sure,” they say, but in a tone that very clearly implies they're just entertaining you.

“Why do you even ask?” There’s more bite to the question than you intended, but Adrian as a topic right now is extracting some venom you didn't think Ashe would ever be on the receiving end of.

But Ashe doesn't seem perturbed in the slightest. Probably because they were the most patient and understanding person you've ever met, something you constantly marvel at considering their young age.

“Well,” they delicately--but persistently--tug at the corner of the packaged pastry currently suffocating in your fist. Your fingers unfurl to reveal crinkled plastic encasing a crushed croissant. “It just seems like you're back to the way you were before Adrian started coming around.”

You frown as Ashe tears open the plastic. The baked, buttery scent of bread infiltrates your nostrils. “How was I?” you mumble, voice notably softer. “Before Adrian, I mean.”

“Mm,” Ashe tears off a piece of the flaky croissant and pops it into their mouth. “Miserable. Grumpy.”

“You’re not supposed to eat that.”

“Not like we can sell it to a customer after your death grip.” They pull another piece into their mouth. Their dark eyes shine with kindness and curiosity, unphased by your halfhearted attempt at playing the stern manager.

Ashe is right, though. You were miserable and grumpy. Honestly, it's hard to remember anything about who you were as a person before Adrian reappeared in your life. When you try to seriously think back, it's nothing but bleak, mundane memories.

Truthfully, you had just been a shell of a person.

The excitement of successfully landing a manager position at the cafe had worn off fairly quickly once the stress of customers wore you down. Sure, it wasn't as bad here as it was when you'd worked at a drive-thru Starbucks location back in college. But the cafe was still fairly new enough to garner the attention of coffee aficionados and people that were just bored with all the things in town that they already knew about.

And there was nothing to alleviate the stress of customer service, not when the home you'd go back to every night was another huge source of anxiety.

You tried to numb yourself to it all, you realize. A defense mechanism. It can't hurt if you didn't let it, so you hollowed yourself out.

But then Adrian recognized you. He could have just come in that one day, gotten that large iced Americano and left forever (no way he would have come back to the less-than-stellar customer service you were doling out). But he said your name and remembered who you were and as terrifying as that should have been, you entertained his recognition.

Because it was him. Adrian Chase. No one of consequence, at the time. Who could the weirdo from high school possibly blab to about your being back in town? And, also, he was kind of silly in a weird, delightful way that you couldn’t help but want to play around with.

Besides, there was a certain way he looked at you that was intriguing, and would very quickly become chest-achingly addicting.

After handling a few customers, Ashe pipes up again. “Y'know, if Matty hears you aren't together, he's gonna try shooting his shot with Adrian.”

This only makes you snort. “Please. Matty wouldn't stand a chance.”

You catch the raised eyebrows on Ashe's face and immediately clarify, “he wouldn't stand a chance against Adrian's best friend that's back in town.”

Ashe pauses before their expression alights in understanding. “So that's why you've been so moody.”

“What?”

“You're jealous!”

“What? No. Me? Jealous of who?”

“The best friend you just mentioned,” they laugh. “C'mon, admit it.”

Admit to being jealous of the guy Adrian all but gushed to you about? Enthusiasm punctuating each giddy sentence. The way he practically bounced on the balls of his feet the other night, excited to meet up with him.

Pfft. Naw.

“You're worried he's replacing you.”

Oh. Right. Maybe you are jealous.

Because Ashe's words made you realize that Peacemaker isn't replacing you. You were the one replacing Peacemaker. You've just been a stand-in this entire time, keeping Adrian distracted and entertained while his buddy was locked up or whatever. You see that now.

That hollow feeling returns in the pit of your gut.

Adrian gets half his fucking pinky toe sawed off and his testicles electrocuted in one spectacularly fucked up night. And as if that wasn't bad enough, his secret identity gets revealed to both Peacemaker, and the ENEMY. Which turns out to be some kind of weird, fucked up space pigeon? Whatever.

At this point, he's pissed off at Chris for allowing him to get tortured in the first place. He could have at least tried to stall Adrian getting his balls burnt to a crisp by giving just a little info, maybe? Just a tidbit of information to potentially delay Adrian getting his most important toe being severed, probably?

Whatever valuable lesson was meant to be taught by this doesn't really go appreciated, not when the pain is still fresh in his junk and right foot. Not when his ego is bruised both from getting his butt fully kicked by the tiny green karate man, AND his identity revealed.

TWICE.

In a single month.

He's irritated. Cranky. No one is taking his concerns over his pinky toe seriously, which is frustrating.

To distract himself from the pain and anger, he thinks about you.

It's not even really intentional. Your smile just kind of emerges amidst the muddled annoyance of his thoughts, and it suddenly dulls all the aches. He remembers the sound of your laughter and something warm glows in his chest.

Adrian would very much like to see you. It's been days since the both of you have properly talked, let alone spend real solid time with each other.

But he cannot. He has a duty to Peacemaker that he has to prioritize, and it seems like this new team Chris is with needs him. And, well, it feels nice to be needed.

He cannot see you. So he spends half the car ride to Chris’ dad’s house telling him everything about you instead.

He can almost forget that half his pinky toe is falling off.

Adrian hasn’t responded to any of your texts. You just want to talk to someone about how weird it’s been at home. Well, not someone. Adrian. Just Adrian.

You hope he’s safe.

He could at least call you.

Why hasn’t he called you?

Adrian sits in a prison cell accompanied by nothing but the ugly feeling of shame. He thinks he may have messed up. Potentially made things worse for Chris by failing in killing his terrible, racist father.

And to top it all off, he's agitated his injured foot doing a (pretty sick) spin kick. Instinct had beat self-preservation in that moment.

Once again, the only thing that eases some of the pain are thoughts of you. Out of habit, he glances to the right, looking for the plastic cup filled on his nightstand with all the physical proof that he'd spent time with you. But all that's there are the bleak and dirty yellow walls of his cell.

The frown that's been sitting on his face since being brought back to his cell deepens.

Whatever, it's fine. He doesn't need it to remember what your kisses feel like. The warm press of your mouth against his is definitely embedded into the grooves and ridges of his brain. The taste of you -- bitter coffee, sweetened at the edges. The little sounds you make when he squeezes your waist, or buries his face into the warm space of your neck.

Time in the cell passes by quickly after that. He's rocking a semi by the time they let him out.

You stop by Fennel Fields one day during your lunch break, hoping to surprise Adrian. But he isn’t there. You ask the young hostess at the front if he’s working at all today. She just kind of shrugs impassively, boredly twirling a strand of hair on her finger as she tells you that he was a ‘no call, no show,’ which means he was definitely supposed to work tonight.

Her indifference pisses you off. Doesn’t she know that Adrian could be dead in a ditch somewhere? Doesn’t she care? 

You leave before you can blow up at this Chloe chick (per the name on her apron). Adrian is, of course, just some guy to her. Only you have the pleasure (and the burden) of knowing that he’s so much more. 

Vigilante gets bodily thrown around by a gorilla. And while it's cool that he gets to add 'fought a gorilla and lived' to his list of badassery, it would have been even cooler if he was the one that got to land the finishing blow with a chainsaw.

The chainsaw was his idea, too! So it just kind of feels like Economos stole his thunder, which wasn't very fair.

Venting to Chris doesn't provide as much comfort as he'd like. And while this new team seemed cool, there's no way any of them were capable of making him feel better. Not the way you can.

Thinking about you wasn't going to cut it after this one. Texting wasn't an  option if it meant he couldn't hear your voice, and a phone call wouldn't give him the satisfaction of your smile. So Adrian will go and physically see you.

The burst of excitement in his rib cage is nearly suffocating. But, like, in a good way.

Really good.

Your thumbnail endures the worried gnawing of your teeth as you stare at Adrian’s contact information in your phone, wondering if you should call him. You want to see him. You had made the very resolute decision to keep him around, and now you’re realizing you may have to work a little harder in order to do so. 

You’re alone in the cafe, after hours. Ashe has been spending the rest of their shifts trying to cheer you up, but to no avail. They felt a little guilty, thinking that they had some part in bringing you down after they made the whole ‘jealousy’ comment. There was an extra layer of glumness in your distant expression for the rest of that night and several nights to come that they felt responsible for. So they would insist on staying even after the shop closed, stick around as you finish up your managerial duties.

As nice as the company would have been, Ashe's presence would potentially stop Adrian-slash-Vigilante from popping in, so you did your best every night to reassure the barista that you're fine. It was only the slightly desperate tone in your voice that would convince them to leave each time. 

So, like every other night, Ashe leaves. You lock the doors. You mechanically carry out your closing tasks until all that is left to do is turn off the lights and go. But Adrian, like every other night, still hasn’t shown. 

Before the Vigilante reveal, you two would just text each other when you were planning on stopping by the other's place of work. But now, not only has he been unable to confirm whether or not he’ll be able to stop by, knowing that he spends his nights doing dangerous things makes you think twice about contacting him. What if he’s trying to be stealthy and you call him out of the blue, the ringtone alerting armed gunmen to his presence? And then he gets hurt, or caught, or worse, because of you?

“Ugh, this is ridiculous!” you bemoan into the empty cafe. “How much crime could there even be in Evergreen-”

You cut yourself off, remembering the night after the club and shudder, the hands that make your skin crawl when you think about them, the ugly scab on your knee. 

A sudden, very specific knock from the front of the store has you yelping, phone flying out of your hand. It clatters somewhere behind you, but you’re not paying any attention to that when Vigilante is standing outside. 

Before you know it, you're unlocking the door to the cafe. Vigilante walks in, careful to close and lock the glass door behind him, muttering something about the cold and you getting sick. You don't really pay the comments much mind —  once he turns back around, you use both hands to tug him towards you by the straps (harness?) on his chest.

The action nearly unsteadies you both, him lurching from the unexpected suddenness of the movement, a soft 'whoa-'as his gloved hands instinctively land on your waist to brace himself.

“What was that for?”

The slight whine in his voice makes you grin. It's comforting. It's Adrian. Feeling him pressed up against you subdues some of the worry of losing him, of not seeing him the past several days, even with the hard discomfort of his chest piece against your breast. Even though it's rough, even though it smells like gunmetal and recklessness, the closeness is a momentary salve for your insecurities.

Instead of telling him this, or even something as simple and true as 'I miss you,' you search his eyes behind the red visor (incredibly glad you can see them at all). “Can you see me okay?”

“Huh? Of course I can.”

“But you're not wearing your glasses.”

“Oh! The visor is prescription.” You can tell that he's smiling, can hear the pride in his voice.

“Really? That's pretty cool.”

“Right? I think so, too.” His eyes squint, smile growing wider, and it makes a flurry of butterflies erupt in your gut.

“I want to kiss you,” you murmur, and you’re impressed that you manage to keep the desperation from your voice despite the way your heart hammers in your chest. You don’t want Adrian to know how bad you want him, you don’t want to scare him away. 

He stiffens at your admission, however, and starts stammering. “I- we can’t- cameras, remember? My mask-”

“No cameras in the restroom.” You nod your head in the general direction of the cafe’s restroom, somewhere behind you and to the left. 

Adrian glances towards where you gesture, not just with his eyes - his whole helmet tilts with the action, and you’re realizing there's something kind of endearing about the mask. It’s not as intimidating as the first time, or your nightmares. It accentuates his movements in a way you’re coming to find kind of… well, cute. 

But he starts to extricate himself from your grasp, shaking his head. “I really- we shouldn’t.”

Before the rejection could register as painful, you press on, body following his as he pulls away from you. “Well, I’m done for the night. Slow day today.” (You say this like you didn’t take your sweet time counting the tills). “We can just go, get in one of our cars-”

Adrian groans. He gathers your wrists in his hands, the texture of his gloves rough and scratchy as he pulls your hands off of his chest. 

“Dude,” you giggle, “am I bothering you, or something?”

“Yes!”

You blink, startled, at his outburst. The way his head swivels back to look you in the face, enunciating his exclamation. The smile slips from your face as the rejection finally sets in, and you yank your hands away from Adrian like his touch suddenly scalds.

This is it. He's finally sick of you. Or bored of you. The way you've latched onto him is finally wearing him down, and maybe he had some kind of guy talk with Peacemaker that's making him dump your ass, made him realize how pathetic you actually are-

“Are those tears? Why are you crying!?”

“Because you just called me annoying!” You hadn't even realized that tears had welled up.

“What!? No, I didn't!”

“Yes you did! You said I'm bothering you! That means I'm annoying!” You angrily wipe at your eyes. Your hurt morphed into anger due to embarrassment over your own stupid tears.

You're sick of crying in front of Adrian, he shouldn't get to see how weak and broken you really are.

“You're not annoying!” Adrian says, body taking on an exasperated, pleading stance as his arms stretch slightly out to his sides, palms facing out, as if to make up for the fact that you can't see his face. “I just meant that in the moment, you were a little overwhelming.”

You pout. It doesn't exactly make you feel any better.

“I don't know why,” he continues, “but you're really hard to say no to. And I just, I don't know, was looking forward to talking with you tonight. And if you kiss me, I’ll kiss you back and won’t have time to catch you up on everything.”

Your eyes widen and your heart skips a few funny beats. You're hard to say no to? Oh, that flusters you, makes you feel more special than you deserve and you smile, slow and shy and delicate as your cheeks warm, and Adrian's shoulders noticeably relax at the change in expression.

“Why can't we do both?” you ask, coyness laced in your voice.

“I don't think you realize how big of a distraction you are.”

This makes you full on grin. “Is that why you've been avoiding me?”

“Avoiding you?” he repeats, like it hasn't even crossed his mind. “I haven't been avoiding you, I've just been really busy with this new team-”

“New team?” you interrupt, eyebrows furrowing. He only ever mentioned Peacemaker.

“Yeah! See, Peacemaker didn't actually complete his full prison sentence- oh, yeah,” he chuckles, “by the way, I was actually locked up the other day, too. But not because I got caught! It was a deliberate choice. Anyway-”

Your mouth hangs open as Adrian continues to regale you of how his past week has been, and the group of people he's been helping out that call themselves 'Task Force X' or something. You barely notice the way he gently ushers you to a nearby table, carefully pulling out a chair for you to sit as he recounts the details of each mission (and a side quest? If you can call getting yourself purposefully arrested a side quest.)

He fought a gorilla. But it wasn't a normal gorilla, it was a super gorilla. You thought the 'super' part was a bit excessive. A regular gorilla could have easily wrecked everyone's shit, given that this group is all human.

(“Everyone on this team is human, right? No superpowers?”)

(“I think so, yeah.”)

He whines to you a bit about how some guy named Economos took down the gorilla with a chainsaw.

(“It was cool, but it just would have been cooler had I been the one to do it.”)

(You nod, very serious. “Oh, for sure.”)

He tells you about how he tried to kill Auggie Smith, the racist, retired villain that just so happens to be Peacemaker's father. This information gives you whiplash, but Adrian hardly gives you any time to process it as he moves onto the next thing.

The next thing being the torture he went through in a US Senetor's secret dungeon (what the fuck), where he endured getting his junk electrocuted and a pinky toe severed almost entirely off by said senator.

The senator also happened to be an alien? And he's dead now?

The senator. Not the alien. Peacemaker kept the alien (but don't tell anyone).

By the time he's done, you understand why there was no time for making out. This was a lot to unpack.

“So... how've you been?”

You stare at him. “What do you mean how have I been? Who even cares? Whatever I've been going through pales in comparison to the shit you've been through.”

Adrian tries to interrupt, but you don't let him. “No! Nuh-uh, my life is peachy. I still have all my toes. I haven't had any part of my body electrocuted. I didn't tussle with a fucking. Gorilla.”

There's a second where you just stare at each other before Adrian breaks eye contact first, helmeted head falling forward. “Yeah, true.”

“Adr- Vigilante,” you catch yourself. “Are you sure you should be doing this? It kind of sounds like Peacemaker came with baggage.” You think about your own baggage, grimace, then correct yourself. “Dangerous baggage, I mean. I don't like that you're getting hurt because of him.”

Adrian's head whips up at your words, eyes wide. “No no no, it's fine, it's cool! They need me!”

He says this all too chipper.

“Besides, it's not all bad! There's fun stuff, too! We blew some stuff up in the woods-”

You roll your eyes. “That's still dangerous.”

“And there was the threesome-”

Threesome? He's still talking, probably, you can't really tell. It just gets muted out by the wretched feeling that's suddenly tearing apart your heart and making it difficult to breathe.

“Wh- what threesome..?” The question rattles out of you, shaken and quiet.

“Huh?”

You look at him, unblinking, and ask again. “What threesome? When did- when did you have...?”

“Oh, with Chris and this 'underappreciated' chick he brought back to his trailer. It was just like old times,“ he cheerily proceeds, completely unaware of the mood shift.

How could you have been so stupid? Of course no grown man with an active libido was going to remain perfectly content with just making out in his car. Adrian probably got sick of you stringing him along (which, you weren't, not really but where else were you gonna have sex? Your parent's house was out of the question, and he wouldn't offer his place.)

Wait, why didn't he bring you back to his place? He lied about having a roommate, you know this now though he still hasn't admitted it.

You abruptly stand up. The chair scrapes harshly against the tiles before keeling over.

Adrian flinches at the sound, and immediately stands up with you. “Whoa, hey, are you-”

“Get out.”

“Are you mad? Is it- is it the threesome? Because we aren't even together, technically, so you shouldn't-”

This fractures your heart even further.

“I said get out,” you sob, no longer able to look at him.

“W-wait,” he falters, very visibly out of his element. “You aren't supposed to be mad. Chris said-”

“Please,” you whisper, and it is such a small, pathetic sound, full of hurt despite its quietness. You hide your face behind shaky hands, feeling untethered and lost and indescribable pain.

A long moment of silence expands the distance between you both, until, finally (because you are very hard to say no to) you hear Adrian's footsteps walk away, and out the front door of the cafe.

taglist: @whatevermonkey @hiddlebatchedloki @nobodys-baby-now @navs-bhat @afraidofshrimp @training4theapocalypse @abbaenthusiast @jediviolet @t0byisher3 @madhyanas

[ if you would like to be removed from the taglist, pls let me know! it wouldn't hurt my feelings, i 100% understand if you come to find it annoying or just not currently interested in the fandom. likewise, if you want to be added, i'd appreciate a reblog and/or comment/feedback ]

#adrian chase x reader #vigilante x reader #writing #fanfic #mine #peacemaker fic

[throwmethroughawindow]

anyways what’s stopping me rn from writing a fanfic where ProHero!Bakugou stumbles across fanfictions about him and he jokingly starts reading them to the rest of the heroes but he starts to get a little annoyed at how the writer portrays him so he goes out of his way to make an account (blackandorangeexplosionking) to comment on the fics like

“Dynamite wouldn’t do this”

“He can definitely lift more than 800 hundred pounds”

“He doesn’t smell sweet, he smells really manly and not like caramel”

“Dynamite doesn’t live in a fuckin’ penthouse, he has a nice house in the suburbs away from all these extras. He’s not like fuckin’ IcyHot”

And the writers like ???? Shut up these are my headcanons about him and you can’t change how I see him??? If you wanna write what you think he can / can’t do, what he does / doesn’t like, write your own stories???

And he gets upset and comments “I know him personally and he thinks these are dumb stories”

And writers like 🙄🙄✋🏽lol ok whatever loser

And Bakugou gets so riled up he stops commenting on writers stories and just starts sending them messages on every platform they have; telling them that they have false information and they have no idea who dynamite really is and writing him how they do is stupid and writer finally gets fed up and is like ok let’s meet up and fckn talk at a coffee shop or something since you feel so passionate about these fictional headcanons / stories about a prohero who won’t ever see them

Bakugou’s foaming at the mouth ready to rip into the writer so he drops the name of a hole in the wall coffee shop and says they have 30 minutes, he’ll be sitting in the back and so he shows up 20 minutes early to sit and rehearse what he’s going to say and tell them to take down their stories because theyre not accurate but then the cutest cutie pie (writer🤍) walks in with an annoyed look on their face and he’s lost for words (wow for once) and doesn’t know what to say to them.

Bakugous wearing a mask and a hat pulled over his ash blonde hair but his carmine eyes are sharp as ever as he assesses the writer; their eyes widening in recognition of the pro hero Dynamite sitting in front of them. It had been Dynamite all along reading the silly head canons and stories about himself, no wonder he made comments like that. And oh my god the fucking smut Jesus Christ. Embarrassment was evident on writers face but they sit down across from him and patiently wait for him to tell them everything they got wrong.

#mha bakugou #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero imagines #my hero acadamy #my hero fanfic #my hero drabbles #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x you #katsuki x reader #reader is a fan fic writer #Bakugou is lowkey into the stories until wrong facts come up #meet cute? / meet angry 😡 #Bakugou wants to show writer exactly what he likes in bed #should I make this a story? #I love this idea and wanna write stuff like this #Bakugou is a dickhead #Bakugou is dynamite #Bakugou being angry #oh well they probs fuck and end up together #I want him so bad #please #he’s so fucking cute

[darbyallinsskateboard]

Dynamite Girl (Poly! Elite x Reader)

A/N while I take a break off of the nepotism story please take this

(gif creds @juliahart​)

A soft knock to your locker room had you look up from your phone, slightly stirred from the trance your phone had over you, you walked to the door and stared through one of the many little holes that chipped into the door from the years it had been in use, out in the hallway stood the four men you most dreaded seeing; The Elite, Matt and Nick Jackson, Kenny Omega and Adam Page, you internally groaned and slowly backed off from the door.

“We know you’re in there Dove” comes Adam’s gentle voice, you sighed and stepped back to the door, opening it slightly, you peeked out at the men, your eyes red and puffy, you sniffled as Kenny silently ushered the door open and wrapped his arm around you “oh no no no please don’t cry Jewel” Kenny tried to negotiate with you, you whimpered into his shoulder, burying your face into it as he picked you up, walking over to your previously occupied couch.

“What happened Angel Face?” how it was Nick’s turn to speak up, his gentle hands coming to rest on your shoulder blades, softly caressing them, Matt turned his attention to your phone on the couch, face up, he walked over and grabbed it, his eyes widening then ushering over towards the couch, showing the screen to the other three men, hateful dm’s of all kinds had been opened and scrolled through.

Matt was the first one to break the silence in the room “You don’t- you don’t actually believe these things right? please tell me you don't believe it princess” his words cut through the silence and tension in the room, you peaked at him from your refuge in Kenny’s arms, simply nodding then hiding your face again, the men around the room sigh, Kenny tightening his hold on you, kissing your forehead, as Nick gently pressed a kiss between your shoulder blades, Adam kneels down beside you and gentle rubs your calf, running up to your thigh

“You know something Angel Face?” Nick piped up and you peaked out at him, with a questioning look written over your confused face, and Nick chuckles “before we decided it’d be a good idea to share you, we always had an internal conflict, I mean we fought over you constantly, you were just that stunning and alluring to us, so who cares what some nobody on the internet says about you? you’re the most amazing girl that could have ever come into our life” this made you laugh through the tears that began to flow again.

“that does make me feel a bit better” you confess to the men and Kenny’s chest rumbles while he chuckles “Good, because a jewel as beautiful as you shouldn’t ever be upset, you got that?” I nod and sink more into Kenny’s chest, letting my worries wash away as the men I love the most all hold me.

A/N I have not had a good couple of weeks, so I took an unannounced hiatus and I’m sorry about that, but the nepotism series should have a much needed update soon

#aew #aew x reader #kenny omega #kenny omega x reader #adam page #adam page x reader #nick jackson #nick jackson x reader #matt jackson #matt jackson x reader #the elite #the elite x reader

[two-red-lungs]

Pick Your Poison

Paul/Fem!Reader

Content: Slow burn, stoner!Paul, he’s the Drugs Guy and I love him, unresolved tension, the Lost Boys are SO toxic

Word Count: 2.9k

The neon sign in Saigon Soul’s window hummed, luminous and red, casting vermillion’s feather-soft hue across the rapidly cooling colors of the night. The last rays of the sun had faded less than an hour ago: but as soon as they did, like clockwork, your new favorite entertainment emerged. Just like he did every night. A reverse Cinderella.

Red looked good on Paul. It haloed his product-stiff blonde mane in a ruby glow and glittered like pomegranate seeds in a marching line down his gilded row of medallions. Turned his off-white eyes and teeth pink, too. He huffed, smacking his lips obnoxiously in an effort to puff away the heat of his extra-spicy beef noodle pho, flapping his hands about. The piles of bracelets on his wrists jangled.

“Fuck me, man. That’s good.” He said in his usual laid-back, loose tone after a gulp of iced tea from his flimsy paper cup. 

“Mmm.” You hummed and picked up a heavy shrimp spring roll with your chopsticks. Maybe it was the thick seaside summer air, or the heavenly deep-fried smells that wafted your way every time the narrow restaurant door opened, but the damn things smelled amazing. “Told ya. This place is a total hole in the wall but their food’s primo.”

“Uh-huh.” He sucked pepper oil off the pad of his thumb and scratched his stubbly cheek contemplatively. Even like this, reeking of sweat and looking like a cat got lost in his hair somewhere, he was so beautiful it was almost ridiculous. Damn those baby blues. “My man Dwayne’s gonna dig on this stuff. He’s one bona fide heat fiend. Eats the fuckin, the… the uh…” He snapped his fingers a few times, brows furrowed in utmost stupefied contemplation. “The little spoons, with the red powder on top, you know—”

“Tamarind candy?”

His face lit up like the sun. Jesus Christ. That smile was a flashbang, a dynamite stick, a stun baton. Made you go all stupid. “Yeah! Yeah, man, the tamarind candy! Gotta get him some of that stuff.”

You looked down at your paper plate of food and worried at the inside of your lip with your teeth. Somewhere down the street dance music was playing. Car lights ghosted over your and your dinnermate, lighting up the strangers that walked by on the sidewalk next to you. It was by all means a perfect night: balmy wind and the distant sound of the boardwalk rides on the air. But Paul bringing up his brother… it sent an uneasy sensation down your spine and you couldn’t quite pin down why. 

Paul had stumbled into your life three weeks ago, completely drunk on the beach. You’d been a good samaritan: held his hair back while he puked, tossed him a bottle of water while he reeled and slurred out that his brothers had dumped his ass for being too intoxicated. But the whole while, he grinned. Like he could enjoy anything. Like no matter what situation life put him in, he’d find some way to have fun. 

He sat by your little bonfire in the grassy dunes and you chatted. You showed him some of your stick-n-poke tats and he’d insisted on getting one himself. And (in a decidedly less good samaritan way) you’d given him one, india ink blackening your fingers and his inner arm skin cold under your fingers. And that’s how you’d gotten to know him, how you’d continued to know him over the last collection of days. Alone, just him. His weird, easily-distractible, impulsive, entertaining self. He mentioned he had three brothers, once or twice, and you took it in stride. 

Then you’d seen him with them. 

He was like an entirely different person. 

Across the sea of beach boardwalk heads you’d spotted him. But it didn’t feel like him. He sat lazily up on a railing surrounded by equally eccentric young men, and they watched the crowd like tigers. Like mad kings looking down on their kingdom. A beautiful young woman passed and they all jeered, whooping and whistling and clapping: even Paul. With an aggression and odd hunger in his eyes you’d never seen before. They all moved in tandem, like wolves, wordlessly communicating in a way that made your skin crawl. 

You left. 

Now he was Paul again tonight: just Paul, the Paul you knew and hoped to god was the real version. The guy who couldn’t talk and chew gum to save his life. The guy who declared a thumb war with you and proceeded to lose six times in a row. The guy who delighted in rocking the sky-glider that slowly trundled over the pier until you were shrieking and clinging to his coat.

Either way, real Paul or not, you were glad you’d yet to meet his family. 

The blonde stretched, yawned, and hopped out of his seat, digging a hand into his dingy riding pants pocket. When you moved to counter, pulling your wallet out of your bag, he uh-uhed you and flapped his own leather-bound one in your face. “Not a chance, girl. Paulie’s good for it.”

You raised your brows. As far as you knew, he was a surf bum with a penchant for partying. No way was he holding down a nine to five to pay for dinner. 

Paul scoffed at your look. “I got a freebie from a real charitable dude.” He flashed the corner of a hundred at you and stuck out his tongue with a smile before wrestling two fives out of his cash-thick wallet. 

“Uh-huh. Someone just… handed you what, looks like… six hundred bucks?”

“He didn’t need ‘em anymore.” Paul didn’t even watch his wallet fall, he just dropped it to the table, flattening the bills to presentability with his fingers. “Try not to miss me, ‘kay?” In a whirl of pungent sea salt and old-timey coattails he was inside the little eatery, the bell on the poster-covered door jingling. 

You idly scratched at the hem of his leather wallet with your thumb nail while you waited. Real charitable dude, huh? You weren’t stupid. Paul was a street fiend. Ran trades and exchanges from the pockets sewn inside his coat with practiced ease, like he was born to sell ditchweed and glass-cut coke to summer-break college students. No doubt that’s where the money came from. Hell, the way he was standing around with his brothers… you wouldn’t be surprised if they were his suppliers. 

Something crunched under the edge of your nail. You brought your thumb to your face. There was a line of red, deep and nearby brown, trapped between the keratin and your skin. Dirt, obviously. 

It was dirt. 

Had to be dirt.

Like a category three hurricane, Paul was back, and before you knew it you were on your feet and moseying down the bustling town avenue. One of his long, lithe arms was draped almost crushingly over your shoulder, holding you to his side. He jingled with every footfall. Golden strands of hair blustered in the corner of your vision and you felt his ribs, pressed against your side, swell and contract with a contented sigh.

Two could play at that overconfident, wild-child game. With a little effort you extracted a pinned arm and shoved it under his coat, grabbing his waist over his mesh top and holding him much in the same way he held you as you jaunted down the avenue. He threw his head back and laughed, his stride never wavering. 

“You kinda got guts, girl.” He cackled into the coastal breeze. 

“So, Paulie.” You ignored his needling, crossing the crosswalk and ambling past seemingly endless pizzerias and cinemas and smoke shops. “Level with your good, kind, very honest and transparent friend. How many acid tabs did you sling to get that sorta funding?”

Paule shook your shoulder with a strong hand. “Wasn’t lyin’ to you, c’mon. I really did get that green for free.” The walk sign nearby turned from stop to go and you crossed another street. “Me and my brothers, we got ways, y’know? Not gonna be strapped for cash any time soon.”

Sometimes, when Paul looked at you just right, you thought your damn heart was gonna beat out of your chest. Like he saw right through the bullshit into your soul. But other times, times like now, you realized just how little you actually knew the guy. 

“I got ‘bout an hour before I gotta jet, girl.” Paul started talking again and you blinked: you’d arrived in front of the bulb-studded Casino Arcade arched entrance at the boardwalk without even noticing it. When you looked up at him, he was already looking down at you, eyes crinkled in kiddish mischief. “You down for a puff ‘n play?”

“Just an hour?” You mockingly pouted, extracting yourself from him and crossing your arms broodingly in the small ever-flowing crowd of young adults going in and out of the noisy arcade. “Geez, Paul. What am I, a time-killer till you can go have real fun?”

He laughed and there was a bark to it. “If you could handle real fun I’d take you with me.” A little of his usual spaced-out bliss receded. “But I, uh. Don’t really think the guys would appreciate a plus one at our… parties.”

“Wow.” You deadpanned. “Not vague and condescending at all.” With a conceding huff you punched his shoulder playfully, making his body rock like an inflatable car-sale mascot. “Fine, blondie. I’m game.” Paul was grinning from ear to ear and dragged you by the sleeve off to the underside of the pier, fishing around in his inside pockets. “But none of that skunkweed, you hear me? And if I kick your butt at Speedway again you gotta gimme your ring like you promised last time!”

He stopped short so quickly you nearly collided with his tall, narrow back. Paul whirled around. “Yeah? What do I get if I win?”

You were very acutely aware of how close he was standing, nearly chest-to-chest, and how the shadow-painted back side of the arcade by the barnacle-stippled pier was much less crowded than the arcade. You swallowed and his sharp, playful gaze tracked the motion of your throat reflexively. “It’s— augh, um— mystery prize. Can’t tell you what it is till you win. Which you won’t.”

He was silent for a few seconds, sucking on the inside of his cheek. Thinking. Then he grinned. “Alright.” He flicked a lighter across his knuckles and pressed the button down. The little firelight flickered wildly in the turbulent air. “Let’s get toasted.”

Sitting down in the shadow-dark sand between the pier legs, watching him roll a joint right then and there on his narrow knee, you reeled. Sometimes you really couldn’t tell what his deal was. Were you a time-killer? A listening ear? A friend? The way he looked at you, sometimes— it didn’t feel friendly.

If it was good or bad, though… the jury was still out on that one. 

So. It wasn’t skunkweed.

It was nice and palatable and bright. Absolutely top-shelf stuff he was handing out to you pro-bono. The world was a delicious blur: arcade lights were multihued and the speaker music was pop-y and completely grooveable. Your skin prickled in the hot interior air: fabric just felt better after a few puffs. And god, Paul was the funniest, weirdest, most oddly endearing beanstalk of a man when he was on the stuff. 

He had his forehead pressed so hard to the claw machine it was going to leave a red halo: he beat the side with his fist and howled in breathy, entertained frustration when the wimpy claw let the neon green monkey plush slip from its grasp under your careful joystick management. “Ahh, you dropped it again! Unbelievable!”

“It’s not exactly made to be easy, doofus! I’d like to see you try.” You half-chuckled, half-grumbled, feeding the hungry quarter slot more change. You missed the slot a few times before you succeeded. 

Paul reeled back and rounded the machine like a big cat, waving jingly arms. “You’re an amateur, girl. Let a pro show ya how it’s done.” 

You assumed he’d push you out of the way: god knows he'd done it before. But no, of course now he decided to act exactly like the Paul you’d come to know. He pressed up behind you, chin tickling the crown of your head, and put a hand over yours on the joystick when the machine popped back to life, revitalized by the loose change. It chirped out a happy eight-bit tune and Paul hummed along to it, guiding the claw around and back. His fingers were cool over yours. You could feel his belt buckle biting into your back over your shirt. 

You held very, very still, mouth pressed into a thin line. He jammed the drop button. The claw lowered, clamped over the green monkey, and hauled it over to the prize chute. It dropped it without a hitch: the plush clunked into the deposit receptacle.

Paul’s mouth was behind your ear, cold breath on the shell of it. “See? Pro.”

Then he was gone, crouching like an animal by the chute and wrestling the monkey free, and god you were reeling again: collecting your very high nerves with hands still clutching the sweating joystick plastic. 

“What’s my prize?”

“...Huh?” 

Paul doubled down, resting his weight against the Blasteroids arcade machine and wiggling the monkey at you. “I won. What’s my mystery prize, hmm?”

You collected yourself enough, finally. At least enough to scoff dismissively. “Please, I basically wiped the floor with you in Speedway and Super Mario—”

“You can’t argue with evidence, girl.” When you lunged to snatch the green ‘evidence’ out of his grip he reached upwards with it, holding it over your head mockingly, a cheshire smile on his face. “Cough it up. I want my prize.”

You jumped for the monkey and it went even higher. Grumbling and hopping and face starting to grow very flushed with an ‘I don’t have a fucking mystery prize’ panic, you rambled and cajoled at him, flipping between wheedling and threatening. It took you about fifteen seconds to realize he was no longer staring down at you, but rather over your head. 

“Paul.” A laid-back, low male voice said evenly from behind you. 

An icy knot formed in your stomach. You turned, slow as a glacier, and yep, it was exactly what you thought it was. Two of the brothers you’d spied the blonde hanging out with before. The tall, dark, and brooding one, and the peroxide-spiked trench coat model.

The latter lifted his eyebrows at you when he caught you staring. A tight, cold smile graced his lips for a moment before he turned his cutting gaze back to his brother. “Thought we all agreed to be at the statue by ten. We missed you.” His eyes slide back to you. “Who’s your friend?”

You stood as tall as you could in the given circumstances, feeling rather like a park ranger making himself as big as possible to frighten off a bear. An introduction was on the tip of your tongue. It got knocked off of it when Paul abruptly elbowed past you, shoulder-checking you hard enough to offset your balance. When he stood by his brothers, he looked exactly in place. Like he was meant to be there. 

He glanced down his nose at you. There was a different sort of smile on his face. An insider smile. One you didn’t feel like was for you. “Just some chick, David. Y’know how it is. Where’s Marko?”

“Scoping out dinner. Probably waiting on us, now.”

“Shit man, then let’s go!” Paul crowed, snapping his fingers and grinning, tongue trapped between his teeth. “I’m starvin’.”

The whole while they talked, the tall, dark-haired one watched you with crossed arms. Taking in the way your face shifted, the confused, hurt pinch in your brow. The pac-man machine illuminated half his face, like a skull of amber-yellow. You caught his eye. The intensity of his gaze forced yours down to the multicolored carpet. 

“After you.” David gestured broadly with a gloved hand towards the arcade entrance, and Paul flounced towards it without so much as a goodbye or a sparing glance in your direction, even after an entire evening together. David looked at the dark-haired one. “Dwayne. Time to roll.”

A long-drawn out pause. You refused to look up. 

“...Comin’.” Dwayne eventually said. The trio disappeared between arcade machines, tops of their heads barely visible, then vanished into the crowded Santa Carla night. 

The green monkey was abandoned on the floor, limbs splayed. You picked it up, its glassy plastic eyes blankly reflecting the arcade lights. Like it was mocking you for being there, alone, after that. 

“Fucking asshole.” You breathed in disbelief to yourself. Far more hurt than you thought you’d be. You’d hung out with him for what, six days, tops? Were you even friends? Was he not just some nighttime stranger, a weirdo who emerged from the woodwork to show you a good time once in a while? Paul was good. Paul was fun. He was a fat blunt and a shot of tequila and a roller-coaster ride all wrapped up into one person. 

You’d picked him as your poison of preference. It was a good poison. Now you were starting to wonder if you’d picked wrong. 

#the lost boys #tlb paul #The Lost Boys 1987 #tlb fanfic #my writing #does this fic go anywhere? no. but i simply wanted to write it #having lots of Paul Thoughts today so

[noita-digging]

I'm not sure how to make a proper summary. Tumblr doesn't seem to support html tables. And I don't know how to show all the necessary information concisely and without just repeating what's in the posts themselves. And then a circle/tunnel shape to represent the radius? Anyways I don't have that ready for this month. So, here's just a list of all the digging showcase posts from March with hyperlinks to them.

Bomb Spark Bolt Spark Bolt Double Trigger Sädekivi Digging Bolt Digging Blast Magic Arrow Pollen Energy Orb Hookbolt Slam Digging Magic Bolt Black/White Hole Glue ball Touch of Smoke Prickly Spore Pod Arrow Tannerkivi Bubblespark Summon Explosive Box Energy Sphere Glowing Lance Unstable Crystal Dormant Crystal Holy Lance Dropper Bolt Dynamite Magic Missile Large Magic Missile Giant Magic Missile Firebolt

Alternatively, here's my archive.

#noita #digging #I think I want to make/get some some kind of whimis-like hazard symbols #And I could do a simplified version of the durability scale that's just a 1D bar #i could turn all the information into little infographics #but on the other hand text-rich is more flexible and memory efficient

[open-hearth-rpg]

Engagement & Flashbacks: Great RPG Mechanics #RPGMechanics: Week Three

I have sat through hundreds of in-game planning sessions. There’s an objective, maybe specific, maybe general, maybe- god forbid- we’re discussing which objective we want to approach. These can be wonderful and interesting moments to explore character and role play to show what your PC values. They can be. But those are exceptions rather than the rule. I look back at the hours sunk into those which ended up in painful, circular, player-tension exacerbating, and time-consuming bad meetings.

My particular pet peeve from this is the player who listens and waits until someone has proposed a line of action and then says they don’t like it. They point out corner-case problems and wild possibilities which *could* make things collapse. But when pressed for fix suggestions or alternatives, they shrug their shoulders. I loathe them. I’ve seen many of them. Playing them at the ttrpg table made me that much more ready to flip out when people did this in actual work meetings in the real world.

Don’t get me wrong– I love it when a plan comes together. There’s few things more satisfying as a GM than to watch the players consider a problem, develop a solution, and reveal how their individual talents can save the day. But setting a planning session into motion is like lighting a stick of dynamite. Sometimes the players come together and manage to extinguish that fuse. More times the dynamite goes off and blows a hole in the session.

So that has long been an established problem that GMs have worked through, usually by degrees of heavy-handed riding the whip.

Blades in the Dark provided another solution and one, honestly, which completely changed my approach to this at every table I run. You have a job, a score, an objective. You can keep choosing that tight by filing down the number of options. Once you know generally what you want to do, you define the kind task and what’s your key element. Then we go to the engagement roll.

That roll is based on the challenge of the situation, the resources and information you have, and preparation (but only in the loosest sense). Good stuff gives you more dice, bad stuff takes away dice. You roll a pool of d6s and check the result. If the highest die is a six, we start the scene on the job with your characters in control. They’ve gotten past the easy layers and are in the more challenging part, but in a good spot. On a 4-5 it's more a mixed bag– you start out with some things at risk. You have to overcome a standard challenge right away. On a 1-3 we drop you in the shit. You’re in but things have gone wrong and the situation’s desperate.

But it's the other half of the system which completes this and makes things brilliant. Players can flashback to preparations they’ve made. They can improvise these on the fly. They can cost stress and require a test, but that’s dependent on how wild or impactful that prep is. Combining that with the flexible loadout system makes the players feel OK about rolling into a situation without having spent an hour working out all the possibilities.

And at least at my tables, the secret is that flashbacks don’t get done that often. Sometimes PCs will get jammed in a corner or a player will have a particularly clever concept. But Flashbacks IMHO provide a mental cushion for risk-adverse players. It’s the GM saying, “let’s get to playing, I’m not going to screw you over, and you’ll have the chance to pull cool stuff out.” And it works– and I promise you I use it in just about every game I run. We still do meetings and planning discussions, but I know I can wrap it up and move it to the play if that begins to look like it is going to blow up.

Side-note: Blades isn’t the first game to lean on flashbacks as a key element. I think that would be Leverage, which is an amazing ground-breaking game by a dynamite team of designers. It uses that to model the reveals of the TV shows it's based on. There may be others, but that’s the one I remember.

#ttrpg #rpg #rpg mechanics

[useyernamesteven]

So Wednesday brainrot, right.

Reading the general wiki pages for the Addams family and found a fun little tidbit: the Addams family curse. Apparently, the reason why Wednesday and Pugsley are constantly trying to murder each other is bcuz they can't. An Addams cannot permanently kill another Addams, they just come back to life/regenerate themselves. (Also, Addams's can't die of natural causes, once the've aged they bury themselves and fall into a deep death-like sleep that rejuvenates them, hence why they have the game "wake the dead").

And this got me thinking, how funny it would've been in the show. Like imagine the chaos that could've been!

So Pugsley usually gets the short end of the dynamite stick--being younger and less cunning than his older sister--and has been victim of Wednesday's murder plots more than he's been able to kill her. But he hatches a plan for the next time he visists Nevermore to catch his sister by surprise.

And so it goes on the next Parents day or something, and everyone is in the quad and Wednesday may be just the slightest bit distracted by the new murder cases (and keeping an eye on her roommate for some odd reason) that she doesn't see the javelin before its running through her chest and she falls to the ground dead.

Its panic and chaos all at once. Weems and the teachers try to keep everyone calm, the students and families start bunching up, afraid of another attack, Yoko and Bianca have to forcibly restrain an incredibly distraught and crying Enid. Morticia and Gomez stare at each other in shock... until Pugsley comes whooping and hollering down from the balconies. "I totally gotcha sis!"

Morticia rubs her temples and Gomez turns to scold his son; this is a school yard Pugsley, where are his manners?! Morticia walks up to Wednesday's body and pulls the javelin from her chest, looking to Weems apologetically, greatest condolences, Pugsley can be a handful at the best of times.

Everyone is still incredibly perturbed, bcuz why the fuck are the Addams family having what seems to be a small tiff instead of freaking out or mourning over their now dead daughter?!

Until Wednesday suddenly sits up, and several people faint while others begin wondering if they should be running for the hills.

Wednesday rubs at the still regenerating hole in her chest, getting blood all over her uniform and hands, slowly coming back to her senses. Then, as it suddenly occurs to her that she should be dead but isn't, she slowly turns to look at her nearby family, eyes murderously zoned in on her brother.

Pugsley cowers behind Gomez, hands up in a plea. "W-Wednesday? Hey, wait, we're even!"

Wednesday gets to her feet, a set of daggers in her hands she procured from somewhere on her person. "You have 3 seconds... 1-"

Pugsley turns tail and runs, screeching his head off. Wednesday waits 2 more seconds before pursuing and they both disappear in the school. Morticia sighs and Gomez shrugs, surprised Wednesday actually gave him a head start.

Everyone else is left staring dumbly and incredibly confused. Wednesday returns 5 minutes later with an annoyed look on her face, more blood on her clothes, and carrying Pugsley's severed arm. Several more people pass out and a few get sick at the sight as Wednesday neatly drops it into the fountain, saying he can fetch it himself when he pieces himself back together.

Wednesday garners a new terrifying reputation among the student body. Seriously, don't fuck with Wednesday Addams.

. . .

Idk something like that would've probably been too goofy to have in the show but its still pretty funny to imagine.

(Also, personally, I feel like Pugsley wasn't accurately portrayed. Nothing against the actor, but where was the general Addams oddities? The flair and calamity of the bomb loving boy? The most unusual thing he did was throw grenades in a pond and eat potpourri. He just seemed so... normal? Maybe thats just me but I expected mischief at the very least)

#wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #pugsley addams #gomez addams #morticia addams #tw: character death #kinda #its not permanent #blurb

[sydsaint]

Summary: The reader finds herself in the path of Austin Gunn. But luckily for her, she's friends with HOOK. And he's more than happy to defend her.

You've been at the gym for a few hours now working on your cardio in peace. But just when it looks like you've managed to get a full workout without being bothered by anyone, Austin Gunn shows up out of the blue. 

"Y/N, what's up, babe?" Austin greets you with a smug grin. 

"Austin." You reply dryly and pull your headphones down to be polite. "What's up?" You ask him. 

Austin continues to grin and stands way too close for your comfort. "It just so happens that I was looking for a gym partner." He informs you. "You free by any chance, Y/N?"

"I actually just finished up." You reply. "I've been here for a few hours already." You add. 

Austin nods and you stand in awkward silence for a moment before either of you speak again. "Are you sure?" Austin asks you. "I can be pretty useful, you know? Teach you a lot of new maneuvers on the mat." He adds in a suggestive tone. 

Before you can politely decline Austin's offer, you find Tyler at your side with his chest puffed out. "She's fine, man." He stares a hole into Austin. "We were just leaving." He grabs your arm gently and starts walking off. 

Tyler keeps his hand on your arm until you are both out in the parking lot. He finally eases up when he's 100% sure that Austin is gone. 

"Thanks, Tyler." You flash a thankful smile toward your friend and savior. "I didn't even know you were in the gym today." You add. 

"Yeah, I just got here a few minutes ago." Tyler nods. "I saw Austin bothering you so I figured I'd swoop in and save you." He grins. 

You giggle and lean forward for a hug. "My knight in shining armor." You joke. "I'm headed out for the day. But I'll see you tomorrow night for Dynamite, right?" You ask him. 

"Yeah, catch you later, Y/N." Tyler nods and releases you from his side hug. 

You walk across the lot to your car and Tyler watches you go. He heads back inside once you're gone and runs into Austin again once he's back inside. 

"I'd watch your back if I were you, pretty boy," Austin warns Tyler with a scowl. 

"Yeah?" Naturally, Tyler doesn't back down from the challenge. "Or what?" He stares right back at Austin. 

Silence falls over the pair for a moment before Austin huffs and walks off mumbling something to himself. Satisfied that he's won, Tyler goes back to his original plan to work out for a few hours. 

The next afternoon you are backstage at Dynamite waiting for your match against Britt Baker when Austin and Colten show up to bother you. 

"Oh, Y/N! Your favorite guy is here to see you." Austin saunters up to you. 

"Austin." You greet him with the same dryness as before. "Hey..."  

With Colten at his side, Austin is able to back you into a corner and bother you to his heart's content. And you've still got a while before your match, so you're stuck for the foreseeable future. 

"So what do you say after the show we go out and have some fun?" Austin asks you, leaning down as close as he can to your face. 

"Austin...I don't..." You swallow hard and try to come up with the right way to turn him down. 

Suddenly, a hand grabs your arm and pulls you away from Austin. You stumble back and find Tyler coming to your aid once again. You go to thank him again but Tyler gives you a small push toward the tunnel. "Go get Britt." He nods to the tunnel. "They won't follow you." 

You nod and head out to the ring, leaving Tyler behind with the Gunn brothers. You and Britt have a match that lasts around 10 minutes. 

Back on the other side of the tunnel, Tyler faces down Austin and Colten. "What? Was I not being clear enough for you yesterday at the gym?" He asks Austin. "Y/N's not interested. Leave her alone." 

"You know, you're really starting to get on my nerves." Austin sneers. 

"Yeah, mine too." Colten agrees. 

A fight breaks out and the three men go at it with one another. 

You come backstage from your match with Britt about ten minutes later and find a whole bunch of staff members swarming around what seems to be the aftermath of a fight. You shoulder past a couple of them and spot Tyler, his knuckles and hands smeared in blood. 

"Tyler?!" You shoulder past a few more people and Tyler turns around when he hears your voice. You make it to his side and confront him. "What the hell happened?" You ask him. "You're covered in blood." 

"None of it's mine," Tyler replies and nods to the other side of the room. 

On the other side of the room full of staff, you catch a glimpse of Austin and Colten being drug off by a few members of security. Austin's face is covered in blood, most of it coming from his nose by the looks of it. Colten also has blood smeared on his face, but it's not as bad as his brothers. 

"You fought both of them?" You turn back to Tyler and he shrugs. 

"They started it." He assures you. "All I did was ask them to leave you alone." He insists. 

You shake your head in an attempt to hide the smile forming on it. "Right, I'm sure." You grab his arm. "Come on, you've gotta get cleaned up before people start asking questions." 

"Eh, I'm not worried about it." Tyler shrugs but follows you anyway. 

"And why is that?" You reply sharply. 

"You'll vouch for me," Tyler replies with a confident grin. 

You laugh and shake your head again, knowing that he's right. 

#aew fic #wrestling #aew #aew dynamite #aew dark #all elite wrestling #aew fanfiction #aew elevation #aew imagine #aew wrestling #send hook #aew hook #hook

[faulty-writes]

Ive been laughing at this for an hour but could u do a reader who roasts people fast just like this guy (bakugo and rumi x reader i am begging you the laughter i let out was inhumane.)

[ Okay so...the video is unavailable to me which big fucking surprise, shit never works when you want it to. So, the best solution I can come up with is just making two short stories where the reader is roasting, taunting, and otherwise pissing these two hot-headed characters off. Sound good? Great, let's get this show on the road. ]

"You better shut the hell up before I blast your damn face off nerd!" Katsuki growled, his fingers tightening around the collar of your hero suit. To think he had come to one of these damn hero meetings only to run into you after and have this happen.

Of course, his temper had cooled down some since his days at Yuuei, but that didn't mean others wouldn't be terrified if they were in your position. Then again, most didn't understand that you loved teasing other people. Especially Katsuki, he was so easily worked up.

You smirked, almost happy that the other heroes had already taken their leave. "Oh look at me, I have the same IQ as a stick of dynamite," your voice deepened into that of a mocking tone and he growled in response. "What the hell did you just say!?" he demanded, violently shaking you.

"If this hero thing doesn't work out, I know I'll run the dynamite companies out of business with my magical hands of boom boom," you continued to mock before laughing. Of course, you failed to notice that his hand had grown warm and small lines of smoke began to circulate around his knuckles.

"Oh yeah!?" he said, forcibly throwing you away from him. You stumbled back, eventually falling to the ground. "How about I show you what these damn hands can do!?" he snapped, bending his knees and spreading his hands which ignited with small explosions.

"Show you why I'm the number two hero!" he added making you roll your eyes. "Figures the boom boom man would be number two, if you know what I mean," you said with a wink, although the joke was somewhat in poor taste.

He clenched his jaw, and a menacing growl rumbled in his throat. "Shut up!" he snapped, charging at you with full force. "Huh!?" you blinked, barely able to comprehend the speed he was going. Your only defense was crossing your arms as he unleashed his fiery fury.

"He's been working hard as a hero, are you sure you need to check up on him?" Toshinori, the former number one hero asked as he walked alongside Tsunagu aka Best Jeanist. "Mm..." he mumbled in response, shifting his glance to the other man.

"I trust he's finally learned how to discipline himself," he said before hearing a loud explosion behind the building he knew the hero meeting was designated at. A long sigh escaped him, and he pressed a hand to his forehead.

"Perhaps I spoke too soon, I should have known. He's more stubborn than ever," he concluded before he took off running. However, he stopped when Toshinori held his hand out. "Wait a minute," he said, lowering his hand when he knew he had the other's attention.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? You said it yourself, young Bakugou can be hard-headed," Tsunagu nodded. "He needs to be reminded of how a hero is to act and when to properly engage in battle," as far as he knew, no villains would dare attack the location where multiple heroes were gathered.

So that meant, Katsuki was engaged in a fight with another hero and it wouldn't be the first time it's happened. He often got into verbal or physical fights with Izuku, otherwise known as Deku. "This won't take long," he stated before running once more, leaving Toshinori behind.

"Wow, those boom booms are about as hot as a s'more. Maybe you could sell them on the side," you teased, despite the fact you had multiple burns across your body and there were various holes in your hero suit.

Katsuki panted softly, clenching his fists. Another growl came before he charged at you again. Jumping into the air, he brought his arm back and spread his fingers wide. "Die!" he shouted, intending to unleash one of his more powerful explosions.

Instead, he found his legs and arms suddenly bound together and fell to the ground. "What?" you looked at him, confused as he wiggled and squirmed in the dirt. "Damn it!" he screamed, continuing to move like mad.

"Haven't I taught you better?" came a calm and authoritative voice and you looked up to see Tsunagu, the man who remained at the number three hero spot and was Katsuki's former teacher of sorts. You recalled he had accepted the man's offer after the sports festival and was particularly fond of him.

"Best Jeanist..." Katsuki growled, baring his teeth. You couldn't help but snicker, finding this whole situation entertaining. Of course, Tsunagu immediately shifted his attention to you. "What?" you said, shrugging your shoulders.

"It's funny to see him like this, I mean talk about ground zero," you placed your hands on your hips. However, the older pro hero didn't find your words to be entertaining and lifted his opposite hand, commanding the fibers in your hero suit to bind your wrists and ankles together.

"You are pro heroes, I expect you to act in the proper manner," he said with a slight snarl, ignoring how you began to wiggle only to lose your balance and fall to the ground like Katsuki. He narrowed his eyes, glaring at you but you offered a smile in return.

"Making fun of you was worth it," you said smugly, causing the angry blond to let out another growl as he began wiggling toward you with threats spilling out of his mouth rapidly. Tsunagu could only sigh at the display, seems he'd have to teach both of you self-discipline.

Your initial reason for having picked up the carrot and taking a large bite out of it was to annoy Rumi aka the rabbit hero Mirko. You munched on the somewhat tart vegetable before smirking at her. "What's up, doc?" you mocked in a high tone which caused the woman to cross her slightly muscular arms.

You continued to chew for a few seconds before swallowing. "You're about as threatening as a little bunny rabbit, letting the villain get away!" you mocked before feeling her hand on your throat. "Shut the hell up, pretty face!" she growled with a sadistic smirk, tightening her fingers around your throat.

"If you hadn't distracted me that damn villain would have tasted good old concrete when I pounded their face into the street!" she screamed. It wasn't often that she let the villain get away, in retrospect she'd like to think she was as fast as Hawks when it came to catching up to and capturing the villain.

But, things were a little different this time because you had decided to tag along. The punk college intern that thought they were so much better than everyone else, at first she liked you. Of course, that was because you had an attitude like hers.

But that mouth of yours seemed to want to keep going and going. Yes, you loved teasing others. Especially if you happened to like them. But you did eventually cross boundaries and some would know better than to push Rumi's buttons, but you couldn't help yourself.

"Aw, little rabbit can't figure out a harey situation?" you teased only to find yourself stumbling back when Rumi pushed you away. You managed to regain your balance without falling to the floor, but this didn't stop the pro hero from stomping over to you.

"Better watch that tongue before I rip it out, pretty face!" she warned, impatiently tapping her foot. "What's the matter?" you asked, pointing to that restless appendage. "Eager to run little bunny?" you teased, noting her ear twitched in annoyance every time you said the phrase 'little bunny.'

You lifted one leg up and began hopping on the other, intending to further tease her. "Little bunny Mirko hopping through the forest!" you paused, laughing at your own joke before narrowly missing her fist which then broke a portion of the wall behind you.

"Get back here!" she snapped, pulling her hand from the wall. You had decided to take off running even though you could have continued to stand your ground. But, when it came to a fight between Rumi and yourself it was clear who would end up winning.

"Pretty face!" she screamed, furiously kicking off of the ground to catch up to you. "Damn it!" you nervously said, taking a sharp turn down a hallway that led to who knows where. You were still learning the ins and outs of Rumi's agency.

"What!?" you shouted when you realized the hallway was nothing but a dead end without any rooms for you to hide away in. 'Who the hell builds a hallway with nothing at the end of it!?' you frantically thought, before the floor shook and nearly knocked you off of your feet.

Turning around, you saw Rumi grinning proudly. It was like looking at an animal that was overjoyed it finally cornered its prey. For a moment, you felt frightened but usually, in these types of situations, you fell back on your sense of humor to try and cope or escape.

"I've never met a bunny that's also a bloodhound," you remarked, trying to contain your composure as Rumi walked toward you. "Keep talkin' pretty face," she said, yet again sporting that sadistic smirk that you were getting to know too well.

You took a few steps back only to hit the wall, you turned your head but stopped short when Rumi grabbed the front of your shirt and yanked you forward. "Hey!" you screamed, wanting to place your hands on her chest to at least cushion the impact.

But you thought against this at the last moment considering it would only be more incentive for her to kill you later. At the same time, you couldn't help but notice how her hair fell so delicately across her face and how the color of it resembled the moon.

"Heh..." you gave a smirk and pointed a finger in her face. "Are you sure you aren't some rare demon bunny from space?" you asked, watching her face twist with confusion. "After all, with that hair and those eyes I wouldn't doubt it," a soft growl came and Rumi pulled you even closer.

You could feel her breath on your face and her nose pressing against yours. "Ya wanna find out?" she asked before turning. She kept her hold on your shirt, pulling you back down the hallway. "Let's settle this outside," she suggested, and you knew that could only mean one thing.

'Maybe this will be the day I die after all,' you thought before noticing Rumi's tail was wagging. It had been a long time since she found herself in a fistfight with someone who wasn't a villain. It'll be pretty hard for you to talk, let alone taunt anyone after she was through with you.

#katsuki x reader #rumi x reader #bakugo x reader #mirko x reader #katsuki x y/n #mirko x y/n #bakugou x reader #mirko x you #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #faulty writes: katsuki bakugou #faulty writes: katsuki bakugou: one shot #faulty writes: rumi usagiyama: one shot #faulty writes: rumi usagiyama

[itjazzbicch]

Boom Goes The Dynamite

Pairing:  Eddie Kingston x Fem Reader 

Summary: With the reader in being BCC, she is having a high point in her career and gets along with all of her fellow members, but one thing that worries her is that her lover, Eddie Kingston, has a bad past with the newest member, Claudio and she learns just how jealous he can get when he sees them interacting, but comes to know that they truly want each other...

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY!) (a bit of Angst, swearing)

Word Count: k 

Tag List: @demonqueen29 @peachy-satan00 @new-zealand-chic  @crowleysqueenofhell @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @thatpanpal @damnnhausen @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @linziland13 @xxx-jazz-xxx @writtingrose @cuzimacomedian @april-jeanette-wagner @starwithaheart @seeingstarks @lilaviolet @eddie-kingstons-wifey

I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF:   

Being in the Blackpool Combat Club was a great career decision. I was learning so much, bettering myself, and kicking ass with great friends of mine.

Seeing Claudio Castagnoli join was a surprise at first but I see why William chose him. There was no denying how phenomenal he was in that ring. Only one thing that was negative about this?

I wasn’t dating Eddie Kingston just yet, but we were very intimate and had a strong relationship already. It worried me because I had already seen how protective Eddie was of me and everyone knew how much he disliked Claudio.

Faith prevailed though. Having to partner up in blood and guts, they worked together and even hugged each other in the end.

It felt good in my soul and gave me hope that all could all get along and enjoy our time in AEW together.

We all had to stick together too with Chris Jericho still dragging this drama along, I got into a fight with Tay Conti and it was just a mess.

But one thing we all loved? Violence. We kicked ass like we always did and on Dynamite, we wrapped up our fun after Jon won his match against Brody King.

In the back, we went to go take photos and it went to show just how much heart was in BCC.

At first, they wanted to be all serious, then Yuta influenced us to take a photo of us in a line, hugging each other like we were going to prom.

I had no issues with it, being first in line with Claudio behind me.

“Smile bright,” Claudio wrapped his arms around me, his chest in my back then leaned back a little to follow the guys.

It made me laugh, smiling brightly for the camera and that was our last shot, pulling them all for a big hug:

“I know you all like to act all tough, but I love you guys.”

“Just don’t tell anybody,” Mox joked, having us all in a big laugh, but I noticed Mox’s eyes drifting away at something.

I really didn’t think anything of it, parting ways for the night and the only person on my mind at that time was Eddie.

Skipping my way down to his locker room, I was ready to give him the biggest, best hug because I knew how much Chris has been getting to him.

“Hey, Eddie!” I poked my head in the door, the smile on my face disappearing.

His anger could change the entire atmosphere in a room and in his locker room, the bad feeling was so strong and scary.

“Did something happen?” I wondered, stepping in to see him in his chair, angrily packing his bag.

“Why don’t you go and ask Claudio Hm?” He was throwing his boots into his bag, refusing to look at me, but the redness growing in his face was so visible, “Since you let him just hug all of you and sweet talk you.”

“Really, Eddie?” I scoffed; now I realized what Mox was staring at, “You know that it is NOTHING like that!”

“Sure didn’t look like it!” He snapped back, about staring a hole through me, “I saw how he was smiling and holding you! And you love him?!”

“Okay, now you’re just assuming shit!” I was getting just as angry as him, “I meant it as a whole. You know how good the combat club has been for me. We are a family!”

“I have never liked him and you know that,” He glares, “I was going to be the bigger man and set it aside. But nope! He crossed the line!”

“If he crossed the line, then why are you over here bitching at me?!” I was near tears, I knew that he was a hot head, but God it was frustrating, “You trust me, don’t you?”

It was rare for him not to respond and when he didn’t? It just made me even angrier, done with the situation.

“You know what, I’m not gonna entertain this. I’m gonna go hang with the guys tonight since you don’t want me anymore over something stupid! “

Since he liked to assume things, I did the same and fling the door open just for it to close.

Turning around, his kiss pushed my back into the door, pressing his body against mine and it calmed the both of us, leaving us panting when he picked his head up.

Staring into his eyes, I could tell it was his insecurities that were speaking for him and as hard as it was for him to admit, he said softly:

"I know it wasn't you alright? I just-"

"Eddie, look at me," I held his head up straight so I could say into his eyes, "If I didn't want you. I wouldn't be here right now. I'm not a liar."

"I know you're not and neither am I," He stared back, getting off his chest, "And I know what to do."

I just gave him a look, curious as to what he meant and his next kiss said it all, especially when he pulled me into a deep, strong embrace, bringing me away from the door and pressing against my lips:

"Every man in this world will know to back off when they know that you're my girl. You are my girl, Y/N."

"Don't want to be anyone else's, Eddie," I meant wholeheartedly, holding his face and kisses, going off like dynamite and seeing something new.

His eyes, hands, and motives all screamed possessiveness, but it was all from the heart. Every touch of our lips was like an explosion, let alone how quickly our clothes disappeared and scattered around the room, needing a moment while laying back and giving myself to him.

I never expected our first time to be like this, but it was still as magical as I thought of it in my head. For a man who didn't like his body, I loved him from head to toe, fixed on the size of his cock when his chest collided with mine.

"Something wrong?" He looked down then up into my eyes and I quickly shook my head, pushing the gas pedal with another kiss:

"I just want you, Eddie."

"Like that?" I let him have his moment to be cocky and confident as he rightfully earned it, having me moaning his name already with the stretch his cock gave in me, already holding on to him tightly:

"All of you. If I'm your girl, you're my man."

"Damn right, baby," He kissed, helping ease the feeling of his cock burying into me, grinding his hips against mine, smiling at every noise I made.

Not needing the talk, I needed to feel how good he was and how good he was making me feel. Having to savor it as I longed for it for quite some time. He lived up to my every expectation, better than anything I ever could have thought of.

"See that?" He rose up for a moment, seeing how much length of his cock was left despite feeling so full, two fingers slapping my clit and having me squeal, gasping at how even fuller I felt, his hips slamming back into mine, fingers still rubbing my clit and about making me stupid along with his thrust, watching him, "That pussy's mine."

"God, yes" I whined, squeezing my eyes shut tight, rattling down to the bone, moisture audible and growing, pulling some dirty thoughts out of me too, "Keep beating it, Eddie!"

"You like the way I beat it, huh?" His laugh was so bad but sexy, seeing me this way putting him in a world of his own and taking me right along with it, "All that squeezing already told me, baby."

"You're just so damn good," My nerves burned so hot that it had my body curling, beginning to sit up from it, till he took my wrists and pinned me down, bodies sticking together and hips rocking together, growing faster in tempo.

Even though it was our first time, he just knew, kissing along my chin and jaw, rising our hips out so he could pound even deeper and giving it harder, dying to have this feeling for the first time:

"Gonna let me feel you cum? Gonna cum all over my dick?"

"All over it," I knew how the talk made him work harder and it gosh, it drove me wild, taking me to a place I was positive that only he could take me, the snap in my core having me grow frantic though, leaning my hands down to interlock with his, squeezing for dear life as my legs latched around his hips, crying out, "I'm cuming, Eddie!"

He took my hands in his and squeezed back just as hard, thrusts slowing but kept fucking me right through my massive orgasm, slicking both our thighs and having his cock soaked, pressing his forehead to mine and kissing against my moaning mouth:

"Fuck, Y/N. That's fucking amazing."

"Amen to that," I tried to kiss back, having him laughing a little at how my head dropped, finally managing to breathe with his thrusts slowing down.

Pulling me into his arms, letting our bodies rest and feel, I was never in a better place, proud to be his girl and reminding him once again, but more playfully:

"Definitely don't want another man after that."

"Won't get it good like I give it, baby," He smiled against my cheek and laughed at me again:

"Amen, Eddie. Amen." 

#wrestling #wrestling imagine #wrestling fic #wrestling smut #wrestling oneshot #aew #aew imagine #aew fic #aew smut #aew oneshot #eddie kingston #eddie kingston x reader #eddie kingston fic #eddie kingston imagine #eddie kingston smut #eddie kingston oneshot #read and enjoy

[visionarystoryteller]

Love Meets War | 1

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A {small?} Series

X/OC - Emileeah (pronounced Emily-ah) Rogers - essentially you

Wardlow - Micheal Wardlow

Warnings: if anything tell me

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Emileeah knew when she walked into Daily’s place, she’d be surrounded by beautiful people…she just never calculated how nervous that would make her or how insecure.

Emileeah was a new hire for the photography team in AEW. She studied the camera since she was a tiny high schooler, not that she still wasn’t tiny, at least by wrestler aspect. Emileeah stand 5’5”, with a slender build, someone that definitely spent their time behind the camera instead of in front of it. Not that Emileeah wasn’t beautiful. She had hazel eyes and down to her mid back length of golden honey brown hair, freckles doting on the cheeks and bridge of her nose, she was a natural beauty, but one that often thought she didn’t seem pretty. She did always try to look decent though, even if it was in too big for her sweaters with leggings, or a long maxi dresses.

Emileeah milled around the wrestlers that roamed all around, some looking at her, others paying no mind to her at all. She held her camera bag close upon her shoulder and into her body as close as possible, hoping to become one in the nerves and anxiety of being surrounded by so many. She wasn’t an introvert per say, but she also didn’t put herself out there.

Making her way down a hall, after following numerous, half damaged pieces of paper taped on the wall, that gave her directions. She found her way to Tony Kahn’s office. Taking a deep breath, Emileeah knocked on the door with confidence that would go right back in its hole.

“Come in…” she heard along with some more muffled out words. She took the door knob in her hand and turned and pushed the door open. Upon stepping inside and lifting her head up, she was met with 4 faces. Emileeahs cheeks redden. She’d only met Tony during a FaceTime, not the other 3.

“Um…I…hi…I’m Emileeah Rogers” she tumbled out, wanting to smack herself, Tony knew who she was. The four men all give her a warm smile. Tony stands from his seat as do the others.

“Emileeah, it’s nice to finally meet you in person” Tony makes his way around his desk and pulls her into a friendly hug. She returns the hug, feeling his kind spirit.

“Emileeah, these are the executive vice presidents, Matt and Nick Massie, who are the Matt and Nick Jackson of the Young Bucks, and Tyson Smith, who is Kenny Omega.” Tony introduces the 3 men. She was about to put her hand out when Tyson pulled her into a hug then Matt and then Nick.

“Nice to meet you guys” she says.

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Upon meeting the 3 EVP’s, they took her around Daily’s to show her the ins and outs of the place. They even showed her her own open area where a computer desk sat with a computer, which wasn’t to far from about 3 sets of back drops for each show AEW hosted, Dynamite, Rampage and Collision.

“So anyway, you’ll just be getting photos basically of anything and everything, even the matches, which Tony explained in the interview” Nick says. Emileeah nods.

“Yea he said I would be in charge of the photos that got posted to the social media apps as well, but I just want to make sure I don’t need to have any approved right?” She asks as she takes out her camera at the desk and hangs it around her neck.

“If anything if you want to you can come to one of us, but just have good judgement. You’ll be following along with every field and match, but I feel you’ll understand what to put out there.” Tyson adds. Emileeah smiles at the three.

“Thank you for showing me around. So I guess I’ll just be around capturing till the show starts?”

“Yup that’s perfect! We have a feeling you’ll do great here, your shots that you sent us for your application where amazing, so we’re excited to see how well you capture some of the talent here.” Matt says.

“Also one more thing, we have been filming for our backstage show that shows the viewers what it’s like for us behind the curtain, so don’t be alarmed and just be you. They may want some input from you here and there and little takes for personal interviews but we told them to lay off for a few weeks with those for you so you can get used to just being part of the AEW family” Matt finishes.

“Okay sounds good. I’m gonna go get some shots of the ring before everything starts” she tells them. They all smile and part ways.

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Emileeah positioned the camera on the apron facing the stage, the Trons on for Dynamite. She snapped a few photos when she noticed a few people walk out of one of the tunnels. She stayed as invisible as possible getting the views of the people looking out into Daily’s place.

“You know, you’re not as sneaky as you think your being” a voice says from beside her. Emileeah jumps back, turning her head, looking up at a women a little taller than her.

“Sorry didn’t mean to scare you” she says putting a hand on Emileeahs shoulder.

“I’m Britt, also known as Britt Baker DMD” she smiles at Emileeah. Emileeah takes a breath and gives her a smile.

“Hi, I’m Emileeah, the new photographer” she says while looking back at the stage, where now a few other people stood.

“Those tools up there, are Maxwell Jacob Friedman and Adam Cole bay bay, but Adams real name is Austin, he’s my dumbass boyfriend” she giggles.

“And maxwells real name?” She asks looking at Britt.

“Honesty the same as his stage name. Except I think his middle name is actually different.” She laughs. Emileeah nods.

“Don’t worry Max can be an asshole but when everything isn’t being filmed for photographed, he can be a pretty chill guy, very hard headed but chill. Austin is well…”

“I’m what Britt?” A voice says from the side of Britt.

“Hi bay bay, I’m just letting our new photographer, Emileeah know about how you guys aren’t as intense as you guys seem in the ring or on tv” she smiles. He smiles back and kisses her forehead.

“That is true. I’m Austin. It’s nice to meet you Emileeah” Austin says pulling her into a hug.

“Are all wrestlers huggers?” Emileeah asks with a small laugh.

“Most of us yes, you’ll get some of the best hugs here. Specially Micheal, he’s like a big teddy bear” Britt says, thinking about her close friend.

“I can attest to that, guy does give great hugs” Austin laughs.

“Micheal is? Sorry I still haven’t really met many people. I used to watch wrestling but that was when WWE was the bigger staple. They barley even looked at my application before turning me down” Emileeah shakes her head. Britt gives a stank face but waves her off.

“Well AEW will be lucky to have you first of all, secondly, you’ll probably know some wrestlers then…a lot of WWE alumni ended up here in AEW. Which I may be biased but they’re so much better off here then there” Britt says.

“I can agree, I was in NXT and as much as I loved it, I didn’t feel my full potential being reached” Austin chimes in. Emileeah nods.

“Well then I will consider myself lucky that Tony looked over my application then” she smiles. Britt smiles and takes her hand.

“Come with us, we’ll get you introduced to some, and get you more hugs” Britt smiles. Emileeah nods and follows britt and Austin follows the two girls.

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Britt and Austin took Emileeah around to meet wrestlers. They had come into contact with the Acclaimeds Anthony and Max along with Billy Gunn, whose real name was Monty. Emileeah remembered watching him in the WWE. They welcomed Emileeah with open arms, of course giving her hugs. Then they came into contact with Chris Irvine, or we’ll known as Chris Jericho. Y2J was one of Emileeahs favorite personas of Chris Jericho. She also loved Fozzy growing up. Of course Chris gave her hug, Britt making it her mission to let the wrestlers know she’s making Emileeah get hugs from the wrestlers.

Eventually Britt, Emileeah and Austin made there way into catering where almost all wrestlers seemed to be. Britt looked around the room, standing on her top toes looking for someone, while Emileeah let go of her hand to snap a few pictures of the busy catering. The wrestlers mostly sat within in their stables, most mingling with the other stables but she made sure to only get certain ones, knowing some probably didn’t like each other kayfabe.

“Aha! I see him!” Britt says smiling. Emileeah looks at britt then Austin with question.

“Who?” She asks.

“Micheal.” She smiles at Emileeah. She grabs Emileeahs hand and makes her way through some of the wrestlers that where standing in the way.

“Move please” Britt said, a mission in her mind. Emileeah gave a small sorry smile to some of them as they passed but they just brushed off Britt, they were used to her. Britt made her way to a table in the middle and stopped, pulling Emileeah to her side, putting her arm around her shoulder.

“Hardy’s, Micheal” Britt says. The three men at the table look up at Britt. Emileeah almost star struck seeing the Hardy’s. It really did seem as if the hood wrestlers of wwe came to AEW.

“Afternoon Britt, whose this?” Matt Hardy asks. Britt pulls Emileeah in front of her, hands on both her shoulders.

“Guys I would like you to meet the new photographer, Emileeah. Me and Austin decided to take her around to introduce her to some of the wrestlers, getting hugs. Emileeah here didn’t think we’d be huggers as wrestler” Britt laughs. Emileeah feels her cheeks heat. Micheal who was pretty quiet was just trying not to stare. Emileeah was beautiful.

“Emileeah, this is Matt Hardy, Jeff Hardy and the teddy bear Micheal Wardlow” Britt says pointing to each.

“Shit Britt I’m not a teddy bear” Micheal laughs running a hand down his face before getting up and making his way over to the girls. He first gives Britt a hug and then gives Emileeah a hug. Emileeah was tiny in Micheals arms that when he stood to his full height to hug her, she was lifted of the ground, eliciting a squeak out of Emileeah. Micheal laughs and puts her down.

“Sorry small stuff” Micheal says looking down at her, once she’s on her feet. She looks up at him and smiles.

“S’okay, you do give good hugs though, Britt is right” Emileeah says. Britt smiles triumphantly.

“Alright I want hugs too!” Matt Hardy laughs. He pulls Britt in first then Emileeah, Jeff doing the same. Micheal smiles watching her interact with the Hardy’s. Britt bumps Micheal with her shoulder.

“Isn’t she the cutest” britt whispers to him. Micheal looks down at Britt with a smile shaking his head.

“Britt…yea she’s beautiful” Micheal says shaking his head with a small laugh and smile. Emileeah gets a few shots of the Hardy’s, Matt explaining he needed to get his Barbie girl on.

“I think me and her are going to be great friends, so please watch out for her back here if me or Austin aren’t around…I just get the feeling she doesn’t have many people watch out for her. I like her to much already to watch her get eaten alive by some of the kayfabe personas back here” Britt says. Micheals nods.

“No doubt.” Micheal agrees. Emileeah walks back over to Britt.

“I’m gonna get some food and sit with Matt Hardy, he has Reby on FaceTime and I love watching her on TikTok” Emileeah says a little shyly. Britt laughs and hugs Emileeah.

“Okay, I have to go to hair and makeup anyway..and austin…Austin disappeared…okay whatever” britt laughs at her boyfriends antics. Britt smiles at the two before walking off.

“Mind if I join you in line, I only had a shake before comin in, I had to take my pup to run around before coming in and didn’t get much time to eat” Micheal says. Emileeah looks up at Micheal and smiles.

“You have a puppy!? And sure, you’ll probably know what’s better to eat here then I would” Emileeah smiles. Micheals laughs and nods. He allows her to walk ahead of him, him putting his hand on her back to help guide her, which sent tingles up Emileeahs spine and tingles through Micheals fingertips.

“Yea, he’s my little warpup. His name is Ares and he such a good dog. Also usually the paninis with buffalo chicken are pretty good.” Micheal says. The two stand in line talking about Ares and why he was called his warpup explaining to Emileeah that because of his last name and gimmick, it fit.

˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Emileeah sat with the Hardy and Micheal eating before they were called to go and get ready as there was 10 minutes till show.

“It was great talking with you Emileeah, Reby definitely wants your number so I’ll come by later after the show, okay” Matt asks.

“Sure thing, I’ll probably be milling around, if anything I can DM her my number to if we end up getting to busy” Emileeah smiles.

“Great! I’ll see ya round” Matt smiles and kisses her head.

“Try not to make me look to old in photos” Jeff jokes with her.

“Jeff you barley have aged since your early days, won’t be hard” she smiles as Jeff hugs her.

“That my girl, see ya” Jeff waves walking off with Matt. She laughs shaking her head. She looks at Micheal.

“Welp be careful tonight, specially when getting shots from the ring, we tend to flail around the outsides” Micheal laughs. They both stand up and Micheal pulls her into a hug that lifts her off her feet.

“I’ll try. I’d say be careful but I feel like your opponents will need it more” she laughs. He laughs and puts her down.

“Probably. It’s war time when I’m there. I’ll see you around small stuff” Micheal says kissing her head and walking off. Emileeah felt her cheeks redden as she gathers her things. Walking through catering she meets with Britt at the doors.

“Told you he gives the best hugs” Britt says. Emileeah looks at britt with reddened cheeks.

“Yea, yea he does” she says quietly. Britt giggles and throws her arm around Emileeahs shoulder, the pair walking down the hall.

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