#Lethal Weapon TV Show | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

generic-whumperz · 8 months

Text

The Aid: Chapter 1- Pump It (Louder!)

TW: BLOOD, bone break, gore, hurt/no comfort, male whumpee, male whumper, alcoholism, drunk whumper, creep/sadistic/ overall bastard-ass whumper, captivity/enslavement, starvation, basement, collar and chain, knife, non-lethal stabbing, death threat, thoughts of death, non-con clothing ripping (non-sexual), suggestive references to past non-con (nothing explicit) and suggestively intimate whumper (he just says some creepy things), Whumpee being referred to as a boy even though he is an adult and a grown ass man, literally TW’ing everything I can think of but if I forgot something let me know.

Word count: 3,053

<-Previous | Masterlist | Next->

Hand-in-hand with Drunken Stupor, Wyatt Sullivan would soon go down to the basement and drag The Aid out just to beat him senseless; since his favorite thing in the world- besides being disgustingly intoxicated- was the rush of power and control that surged through his veins when his ears filled with the piercing sound of The Aid’s fruitless pleading and shrill screams.

If he gets drunk enough, maybe he’ll even be able to set aside the revulsion he feels towards The Aid and. . .

Sullivan mentally negotiated his own defense and rationalized the barbarity he knew he would inflict on The Aid as he crushed beer can number eight in a single clenched fist, throwing and missing the trash bin that had a ring of other missed shots scattered along the floor.

A session with The Aid was sure to liven Sullivan’s spirits and (somehow) correct the cosmic imbalance that had been dealt to him that day- he was sure of it.

He spent the time in which he drank the next few cans thinking of how close to death he would beat the sad-sack this time. Because somehow he knew this was partially, if not all, The Aid’s fault.

Now empty, crushed can number 12 met the others on the floor in front of the trash bin, a harbinger for the next phase of events.

Sullivan‘s second ritual of the night was all but beginning- he turned the TV volume up to 100 (this would help drown out The Aid’s screams and provide a reason for any loud noise that would ensue- he didn’t need the neighbors calling the cops on him, again) before stumbling his way to the back door where he stood in the doorway, unzipped his fly, and pissed into the rock bed between the house and walking path that led out into the backyard.

The bathroom was on the other side of the house, and after a 12-pack in, he couldn’t be bothered with the formalities of reliving one’s self.

He fetched a freshly sharpened carving knife- his preferred weapon- from the knife block on the counter before flipping the switch on at the top of the steps and making his minacious descent. A leading hand slid down the stair railing offering much-needed balance for directing the rest of his staggering body.

The basement was unimpressive and largely neglected like most others- dingy, cold, creepy, and dark despite the single overhead hanging bulb that lit the center of the room. But unlike most basements, this one had a resident chained to a support beam on the far-right side.

The usual amount of basement junk could be found down here- boxes of unused holiday decorations, boxes of worthless junk people passed off as family heirlooms worth keeping although no one ever showed interest in them, old sporting equipment from the 80s and 90s that was inoperable, a half collection of great-great-so-and-so’s fine china set that was cracked and hideous, big black trash bags of unfashionable clothes of deceased elderly family members, and so on. All of this had been pushed to the front of the house, or the left side when coming down from the steps, and the whole right side lay completely bare save for a rouge wash-bin that sat smack-dab in the middle up against the far wall.

Out of all the junk down here, Sullivan couldn’t think of anything more worthless than the basement dweller- because even all that lousy junk could be argued to hold sentimental value.

Sullivan never wanted The Aid.

He would have preferred the inheritance money.

“Get-Get up!” Sullivan sloshed, pounding the butt of the knife against a low-hanging pipe that echoed a sharp, metallic ping in the musty, stale air.

No response. Not a peep.

Nothing but the residual quiet buzz from the ping could be heard.

“I s-said, get the fuck up!” Sullivan roared, tugging the chain attached to the beam forward with one hand.

At the other end, The Aid groaned. He rolled off the dingy floor mattress that his life had been reduced to and came forward to meet the outer ring of dissipated light. Sullivan saw the reflection of the ceiling light bounce off the metal collar before he saw the emancipated, cadaverous outline of The Aid’s form emerge from the shadows.

Sullivan tugged again, a command to come closer.

The chain latched to The Aid’s collar lightly scrapped the cement floor as he weakly inched forward on all fours.

He looked up with big, brown, sunken-in eyes as he crawled nearer to his Keeper, stopping dead in his tracks like a deer caught in headlights when he noticed the gleam of the knife in Sullivan’s other hand.

“P-Please sir-” The Aid beseeched in a low, shaky voice.

“Pleeth, thur,” Sullivan wickedly mocked, laughing at both The Aid’s stammering and his impression of him. “I-I’ve been upstairs thinking about what I wanna do wi-with you.” Sullivan held out and rotated the knife to further intimidate the frightened Aid and further assert his dominance over the already submissive slave.

One could never be too domineering over a menial; they oughtta be reminded of their place.

The Aid was frozen in terror, eyes fixed on the large knife. He still had scabs from the last round of Sullivan’s drunken game of slice n’ dice that happened two days short of a week ago. Sullivan had come down since then, three days ago, to use him as a punching bag after The Cowboys lost a football game. All over his body, his skin was mottled from different stages of bruising and marred with cuts of various depths and lengths. He had various badly healed broken bones and sprained extremities, a black eye, and a crooked nose from several separate breaks, and he was fairly certain that he had a cracked rib on his right side.

His life was lived in a constant state of abuse and fear.

All of his injuries were caused by Wyatt Sullivan.

Without warning, Sullivan hastily yanked the chain forward, pulling The Aid head-first along with it, causing him to scrape his boney knees on the rough flooring. He cried out and cowered at his Master’s feet, too afraid to move or speak.

He wouldn’t move unless told or directed to; Sullivan made sure to train him in that.

The Aid was now close enough to get a whiff of the alcoholic haze surrounding his owner; how he reeked of cheap beer.

Sullivan dropped the chain, creating a loud clash of metal that rang in The Aids’s ears, causing him to jump from the sudden movement and unsuspecting noise. Sullivan knelt down and grabbed The Aid by the shoulder, forcing him onto his back in one fell swoop. Sullivan was not met with resistance, The Aid followed where the hand led and rolled over on his side.

His head smacked the floor with a low thud, rattling his brain, resulting in a dizzying, light throbbing sensation that made his brain feel swollen and like his skull was too tight. He let his body go slack, allowing his Keeper to fumble on top of him and grab his wrists.

He knew his place.

The Aid was an obedient boy.

“I-I know wha-what you did last night, y-you lil’ fucker!” Sullivan drunkenly snarled as he clumsily straddled The Aid, pinning his arms at his sides between his legs. He tauntingly brought the knife to The Aid’s skinny neck, gently resting the tip under the collar and in the dip of his jugular notch.

The Aid didn’t fight back. He stopped fighting back a long time ago.

The best he could do was produce a small whimper in place of a verbal reply.

“Admit it!” Screamed Sullivan, inches from The Aid’s horrified face. Due to their forced closeness, he inadvertently inhaled Sullivan’s foul breath, which made him want to gag. He knew he didn’t smell great himself; his Keeper hadn’t given him a clean set of clothes, nor had he had a proper shower or even been able to brush his teeth with a toothbrush in weeks. But unlike his Keeper, he was self-conscience about it; he didn’t force himself on anyone and subject them to his rank odors.

“I’m sorry!” The Aid wept. Although he had no idea what Sullivan was accusing him of this time, he had learned it best to admit fault first to lessen the number of blows that would soon be administered to his already broken body.

He had never actually been guilty of any of Sullivan’s accusations. Sullivan was always looking for a scapegoat; he had to have someone to blame other than himself for his misfortunes.

“Sorry?… So-sorry for wh-what?” He had begun to catch on, even in his drunken state. This “sorry” came too quickly; The Aid’s apology didn’t feel genuine or based. With the knife in hand, Sullivan slit the already-stretched neckline of the Aid’s shirt down and to the right, exposing more plae, bruised skin.

“For-for…” The Aid panicked, scrambling to think of something on the spot-

“…For upsetting you.”

And failed.

Cut.

Blood trickled out of a shallow slice made on The Aid’s collarbone. A pool of tears tickled the outer corners of his eyes until they grew heavy enough to make a plunge down the sides of his face as he shook under his Kepper tormenter, more so from fear than from pain.

“I shou’ fuckin' kill ya; fixin’ the car costs more than ya were ever worth!” Sullivan’s words came out in a venomous hiss. Part of The Aid wished that Sullivan would make good on his threat. He could only take so much more of this abuse- his body was malnourished and eating away at itself; he couldn’t even stand without becoming lightheaded and dizzy.

He was lucky if Sullivan remembered to feed him more than a few times a week. And what he did get was nothing more than a slice of white bread or a cereal bar. He was given a bowl of water to sip from that he had to ration over the course of a couple days because he was never sure when he would be given liquids either. Several feet from his mattress sat a pan bucket- what Sullivan referred to as his “litter box,” which he jokingly filled with cat litter- where he was forced to relieve himself when the need arose. He was allotted a roll of toilet paper a month, and Sullivan made sure to let him know that he was being generous to even offer him that. The only upside to being starved was that he didn’t need to empty his bowels very often.

Still, he wept.

“It was fi-fine yesterday! No issues, nothing! Good as fuckin’ gravy. But-but today, but today it didn’t start… Strange, huh?” Sullivan waited for a reply.

“Yes sir, very strange,” muttered The Aid in agreement.

“So, it leads me to think that someone- hmm, someone-” he traced the tip of the blade along the fresh cut on The Aid’s collar bone and his eyes flickered with a menacing, accusatory scowl “-may have snuck off in the middle of the night to go on a little joy ride.”

Confusion washed over The Aid’s face, halfly replacing the sheer terror. Was Sullivan really accusing him of freeing himself just to drive around the neighborhood and then return to his abuser’s home, re-shackle himself, and await punishment for a car he supposedly knowingly broke? It had been a couple days since his Master gave him any food, so he knew that he wasn’t the most mentally clear. . . could he be misinterpreting Sullivans’s assertion?

He wasn’t even sure if he could drive.

“W-what?” He finally said after a short pause, utterly dumbstruck.

“You broke out and went on a little fuckin’ cruise ‘round town an’ broke the goddamn car!” Yelled Sullivan, droplets of spit splattered The Aid’s petrified face.

He knew that any effort spent trying to defend his innocence would be wasted energy, especially when Sullivan was as drunk as he appeared to be. Nothing that ever came out of Sullivan made a lick of scene when he was this intoxicated.

“Yessir, I’m sorry. P-Please forgive me—”

SLAP!

The Aid’s face stung from the impact of Sullivan’s hand meeting the side of his face. He gulped back a sob but couldn’t stop his chin from quivering nor hold back the stream of tears that began pouring from both corners of his eyes, coating his face in a faint, salty wetness.

“Yeah, yeah, I knew you did- you did it! You-ya'ar always breaking crap and lying about it! S-so what are you gonna do’ta make it better, hmm? Ya got 45 hundred dollars laying around someplace that I don’ know about?” Sneered Sullivan as he made another shallow cut underneath the previous one, but this one was longer and stretched to The Aid’s shoulder.

“No, s-sir, I have nothing!” The Aid shook, trying to ignore the radiating sting of the newly dealt incision.

Sullivan’s arm snapped into an L-shape as he sternly grabbed the Aid’s jaw. With his forearm flush against the Aid’s chest, his bent elbow brunted the weight of his upper body as he barred down with a concentrated force on The Aid’s xiphoid process, forcing the terrified servant beneath him to look up into his dark, baleful eyes that beamed with malcontent.

A suffocating jolt of constricting pain erupted from the Aid’s right side; he felt the splintering bone-on-bone grind of the raw, jagged edges of his cracked rib gnaw at each other, echoing a deep, sprawling agony that shocked him. He momentarily lost his breath and gasped for airless intakes, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him. His mouth hung open, waiting for the final moment in which his body would allow his chest to expand as his lungs filled with a big, gasping inhale.

Once he finally regained his breath, he remained slack-jawed, respiring blurbs of inaudible silent screams.

Sullivan liked to soak in the fear and pain that he caused The Aid- the small, helpless slave who resembled more boy than man that he could throw around like a rag doll. He reveled in his ability to elicit such a raw, timorous response in another person- even a person he thought so little of, even a person as pathetic and useless as a Domestic Aid.

With his knife-wielding hand, he slowly stuck The Aid’s right shoulder under the clavicle and pushed his hips down onto his victim, further pinning him down to counteract his body’s instinctual reaction to squirm against the pain.

The Aid bit back a scream as his jaw twitched, instead letting out a throaty groan through clenched teeth.

Sullivan flashed a tight grin, eyes glistening as he licked his lips- the blade now an inch-and-a-half deep.

“You take it so good.”

The lascivious glint in Sullivan’s eyes, paired with the gravelly tone of his voice, triggered a shock of panic to course through The Aid, who jerked his head away in an attempt to free himself from his abuser’s grasp.

He knew that look- that look, those eyes, they haunted him day and night and stalked his daydreams- turned everything into a nightmare. That look ignited a wave of nervous, cold sweat to prickle his skin; he felt the thin fabric of his shirt cling to the small of his back like a napkin sticking to the bottom of a glass from condensation. He lay petrified, stiffening his body even more still. He remembered the first time he saw that look, what followed, and what happened every time after he saw it; he had to fight himself to lock away the visuals that shadowed behind for his own sake.

Sullivan chuckled villainously, forcing The Aid’s sniveling face back forward to meet his own.

“Mmm, so that does it, huh?” tittered Sullivan. Bleary, despairing eyes filled with dread stared back at him. He continued slowly pushing in the blade through layers of muscle, fat, and tissue- now two-and-a-half inches in.

The Aid couldn’t hear much else besides his own heartbeat thudding away in his ears; probably for the best, he was better off not hearing his body’s squelching sound of implement. He strained to grit his teeth with an even tighter clenched jaw, fighting the urge to scream. Because if he had learned anything from his time torture with Sullivan, it was that once he let out the first scream, he couldn’t stop.

And his torturer would become even more vicious once he started screaming.

“I knew you liked it deep, Mutt,” Sullivan cooed salaciously, letting his index finger grace The Aid’s scarred cheek. “Not a single bark outta’ ya, look how good ya’re doin’.”

The Aid’s clenched jaw loosened, and his bottom lip quivered. His composure began to slowly crumble, pieces of it evaporated into the frigid air around him, never to be taken back, lost forever in the dark of that hellish basement- like an eroding shoreline being pummeled by wave after unforgiving wave, each receding pull dragging and reclaiming the remnants out at sea.

His stoic façade was fragile and broke too quickly when confronted against this man monster.

The pain was one thing he thought he could take, at least for a while, but the lewd comments were something else that he had not yet worked up a tolerance to, and Sullivan knew that.

And sometimes, sometimes, the comments became more than just dispiriting remarks. He hoped and prayed to whatever god, deity, or even Devil may have been listening that this wasn’t like one of those times.

Sullivan leaned into The Aid’s ear and whispered to him in a hot, breathy voice that made him shiver.

“Com’mon pup, yelp for me; I know you want to.”

The knife is more than halfway into his shoulder.

Sullivan twists it.

The Aid’s defenses broke like a cheap crayon given out with a kid’s menu at a restaurant. The pain was too intense to ignore; he couldn’t escape to a mind palace or shut down his body, although he did try.

An earsplitting, guttural scream escaped his mouth and filled every corner of the dingy basement- this was why the TV was cranked up to max volume.

<-Previous | Masterlist | Next->

23 notes · View notes

maxdark158 · 11 months

Text

RotTMNT Episode Timeline: Season 1

My 6th timeline so far, seems the least flawed at the moment so I’m going to post it. Reasoning under the cut!

Turtle Tots

-happens pre series

Mystic Mayhem

-first official episode in the series

-they didn’t go out trying to be heroes, but are proud of being heroes when they accomplish one (1) thing (not important, but adorable)

Origami Tsunami

-either the second or third episode, no later than that

-introduces them deciding to become heroes, but doesn’t introduce their characters the way mystic mayhem does

War and Pizza

-no turtle tank or other mutated villains mentioned

-raph’s powers are very new to where he can’t activate them, mustve just gotten his weapon

-COULD be before origami tsunami because April gets fired then is looking for a new job, but I am unsure, and it’s easier to say origami comes first

Donnie's Gifts

-is pre tank, meat sweats also seems to be their first encounter with a mutant in a villain capacity

Newsworthy

-HAS to happen early, because this is pre hypno part deux which is also pre tank

Minotaur Maze

-HAS to also happen early, because again, pre tank reveal

Shell in a Cell

-I put it here for another introduction to happen early, but namely after Minotaur Maze cause raph and leo have some unresolved tension by the end of that episode that could’ve added more fuel to the fire in this episode, where they finally resolve the issues

Repo Mantis

-HAPPENS AT THE SAME TIME AS HYPNO PART DEUX

-spans about 4 days

Hypno! Part Deux!

-HAPPENS AT THE SAME TIME AS REPO MANTIS (during one of the 4 days)

-raph and leo have made up fully yay!

The Gumbus

-The turtle tank is a massive undertaking, so my HC is that Donnie isn’t in this episode cause hes working on it (maybe raph is doing some heavy lifting for don)

-the other non-Donnie episodes don’t work due to other plot things stopping them (you got served is later in season 1, nothing but truffle has to be AFTER Lou Jitsu the game)

-also, an introduction episode, which makes sense earlier in the season

The Purple Jacket

-if Donnie had a fully functional turtle tank full of lethal weapons, why would the purple dragons NOT steal it?

-and if they didn’t steal it, why would don depend on april’s bike for transport and not a shell hog??

-has to be pre tank, but my hc is near the finish of the tank, cause riding in april’s bike reminds Donnie why he wants a tank so bad

The Fast and the Furriest

-TURTLE TANK REVEAL

-has to be BEFORE every episode with the tank (a pretty good number of them) so is early series but has several buildup episodes before it

Down with the Sickness

-splinter gets sick cause of meat sweats

-could go basically anywhere but I like it here

Mascot Melee

-weird to put right after don gets mad at his dad, but down with the sickness likely provides a week or a few between the episodes before n after, since splinter now has to take care of his 4 sick sons

-taking care of said sick sons likely makes his robe fucked to all hell

-while splinter does mention training them, implying the episode happens later, this episode HAS to happen pre bug busters due to the appearance of the mascot mutants in bug busters

The Longest Fight

-Is clearly the second encounter with the foot the boys have had, given their overconfidence taking them on and raph’s confusion/dialogue about them not stealing paper

-this episode also introduces the motive of the foot, which tv show story wise, should happen earlier

-could be after bug busters but I think it’s before

Bug Busters

-introduces big mama/the hotel

-is early series, but all the mutants pictured by big mama as well as the tank must happen before this episode

-This means it has to happen after Turtle Tots, Mystic Mayhem, Origami Tsunami, Donnie's Gifts, Newsworthy, Minotaur Maze, Repo Mantis, Hypno! Part Deux!, The Fast and the Furriest, and Mascot Melee due to either meeting the pictured mutant or the tank timeline

WARNING: TIMELINE GETS LESS SURE THIS POINT ONWARD

(I begin placing things that make more sense based on a story, less based on physical evidence such as cameos/appearances)

Stuck on You

-after bug busters when leo goes rogue and they’re barely able to agree on a plan, raph decides they need to team build!

-thus… this

Mrs. Cuddles

-happens likely before nothing but truffle, and cloak and swaggart as this is an intro episode

-I put here cause don isn’t working on shelldon yet but can go anywhere basically? It’s the first reference that splinter isn’t just the lazy fat man he seems to be

-splinter and raph hanging out likely helped uplift him after being sad in stuck on you, plus prank could be revenge for doing that to the poor boys

Race

-I just put it earlier in the series cause of leo’s portaling inability. Def happens in season 1 cause of mayhem

Pizza Pit

-has to happen before Bullhop and Claok and Swaggart

-putting here cause after the first failed attempt at team bonding, clearly raph needed to make up for the discomfort of the stuck on you episode. Also pizza week!

May 2018: Bullhop

-happens in either May 2018 or January 2019, but I think season 1 is supposed to be entirely in 2018?

-the date is based on the calendar we see. We essentially see almost an entire week, and can determine the 6th is on a Sunday with the 12th on the next Saturday. Then look at the months in 2018 where those numbers fall on those days!

-pre smart lair, cause otherwise shelldon would’ve likely been seen trying to clean up bullhops mess

-episodes between this and bug busters were likely harder for leo to enjoy cause of his guilt about bullhop, he decides they have to help him (he regets)

Hot Soup: The Game

-casey intro episode

-seems mid show, but has to be before nothing but truffle and all other casey episodes

Smart Lair

-donnie made shelldon! Woo! He didn’t like cleaning up after bullhop it was a nightmare

The Evil League of Mutants

-reawakening of splinter’s body dysmorphia but also him beginning to try to be a better dad

-them finding out LJ is their dad

-Draxum’s motives changing from mutate all the humans and destroy his sons to find dark armor

Late Fee

-splinter gives sons a simple task n offers hugs. Is post shell in a cell, but other than that? Just. Can go anywhere again. I put it here.

Sparring Partner

-after evil league of mutants, raph wanted to spar more than his brothers usually want to. He got an idea from all the foot soldiers thus, this episode!

-has to happen post LJ: the game cause of casey

Nothing But Truffle

-has to be post Lou Jitsu: the game cause mikey goes on his own without raph, likely after he yelled at raph dr delicate touch style for bursting in on his first solo mission

Man Vs. Sewer

-is pre shadows of evil cause of the reference to “shady past” in terms of splinter: they don’t know his ID yet

-post evil league cause of crab brothers

Mind Meld

-has to be post shelldon and post purple dragons

-here cause donnie’s frustration at his brothers for stealing tires could carry over to why he wanted to fundamentally change them

Al Be Back

-post evil league of mutants cause of splinter’s increased effort to spend time with his sons (joining their band), pre shadows of evil cause IF LOU JITSU OFFERED TO BE IN UR BAND YOU’D SAY YES IMMEDIETLY so they clearly don’t know yet

-here cause Donnie joining in on brother’s tomfoolery as an apology to brothers and to repair the damage he did, ends up having genuine fun

-leo is more sus of donnie’s mistakes with tech cause of recent still healing brother bond wounds mayhaps?

Portal Jacked!

-THIS IS PRE YOU GOT SERVED

-leo’s portaling abilities are similar to “Mutant Menace” where he can summon big portals, but this is beforehand cause he’s less sure about summoning those portals and easier to portal jack overall

-hueso doesn’t like leo at all at the start. This episode is what makes him and leo closer, thus he asks leo for help in you got served

C.O.W.A.B.U.N.G.A.

-post nothing but truffle, because mikey’s fanboyness is toned down, the betrayal likely fresh in his mind

-can really go anywhere tho, season 1 or 2

The Purple Game

-post shelldon!!

-likely later on cause of leo’s successful portal and raph’s large mutant form, showing their mystic powers growth

Turtle-dega Nights: The Ballad of Rat Man

-pre shadows of evil cause splinter doesn’t yet know his boys are fighting crime (“what have you boys been up to??”)

-post evil league of mutants cause splinter’s body dysmorphia is fresher than at the start of the series (my hc is it got a bit worse before he had an evil to face, aka between evil league of mutants and shadows of evil) and he’s actively trying to spend time with his sons more even if he’s not exactly good at it yet

Shadow of Evil

-HELPS DIFFERENTIATE MORE PLOT cause boys find out a lot of info, so episodes where they don’t know said info must come beforehand

Jupiter Jim Ahoy!

-happens post shadows of evil cause boys know Splinter aka Dad = Lou Jitsu aka DnA donar

-the allure of dad is LJ is fading fast cause they’re remembering their dads a bit lame, but they still love him

Operation: Normal

-no boots exist in shadows of evil on the armor, thus this is AFTER shadows of evil, but BEFORE bending enemies to your will

Raph's Catchphrase

-post meeting and getting used to Cassandra as an enemy, but pre how to make enemies cause Cassandra isn’t draxum’s minion atm, she’s still with the flame heads

The Mutant Menace

-has to be post AI be back, takes stockboy out for the rest of the season

-other than that, this placement is p general, put here to space out armor episodes

How to Make Enemies and Bend People to Your Will

-post shadows of evil

-pre warren and hypno (via the shredder armor, it doesn’t have any hands yet)

Mystic Library

-LATE series, because of raph’s adept use of his mystic powers

-the foot guys messing with the turtles is maybe a power trip cause they feel more powerless with draxum in charge? That’s more of a HC though

The Ancient Art of Ninja Hide and Seek

-post shadows of evil, because splinter is training the boys more seriously

Warren & Hypno, Sitting in a Tree

-post shadows of evil and how to make ppl bend to your will

-April’s birthday episode!!! Now if only I could put a concrete date to the episode-

-armor is closer to being finished, but not actually visualized

You Got Served

-happens after portal jacked due to the nature of leo and hueso’s relationship then vs this episode

December 2018-March 2019: Snow Day

-has to happen after late fee but??? No idea otherwise

-it’s just. Here. Cause idk where else to put it

-theres NO OTHER indication of seasons???? It snows for 1 day and never snows again??

One Man's Junk

-boys know about mystic armor (are actively trying to find it), thus post Shadow of Evil

-we don’t see the armor in this episode, so hard to tell how far it’s completed, presumably a lot though

-unlike warren stone where they came across the armor, they’re actively searching, likely cause they can feel the proverbial end of the road approaching

Cloak and Swaggart

-sandro brothers are seen w/o mutation, BUT splinter is taking the boys on a serious camping trip?? Also the thing with sunita’s boots having to be after shadows of evil… Seems to conflict with each other

-thus I am going with the idea that the Sandro brothers are wearing cloaking brooches

-otherwise this would fuck with everything so hard

-putting it down here so there’s a more even spread of sunita and a break between plot stuff

Insane in the Mama Train

-end of season 1, happens after everything else

End Game

-end of season 1, happens after everything else

#rottmnt timeline #bring back rottmnt #rise timeline #bring back rise of the tmnt #bring back rise #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise season 1 #rottmnt timeline torture saga

35 notes · View notes

sunshinediaz · 2 months

Text

tease tidbit tuesday

i'm trying to blast out a few courses and get the rough draft of this silly fic finished today and i'm making good time? kinda?

anyway! enjoy please!

At 10:18 in the morning, Buck barges through the front door. He has an impressive load of shit in his hands—boxed candies and chocolate-covered strawberries and two stuffed animals and a massive bouquet of magnolias and yellow daises packed in a gorgeous glass vase. (Eddie’s favorites.) He raises a brow. “Hi, Buck,” he says, nonplussed because this is not the first time Buck’s burst in on him in the years they’ve known one another. “What’s up?”

tagged by @actualalligator, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @honestlydarkprincess, @rogerzsteven, @exhuastedpigeon, @disasterbuckdiaz, and @daffi-990, mwah

tagging @spagheddiediaz, @jeeyuns, @puppyboybuckley, @monsterrae1, and @devirnis if any of you want to share!

#yes yes yes this fic is inspired by lethal weapon tv show are we surprised #tag games

30 notes · View notes

mk-wizard · 1 year

Text

“Thor” Speaks Out: We won’t take the hate that you give

First, the She-Hulk TV series’ creators admitted that they made the show with the objective of mocking fans, then Henry Cavill walked out on the Netflix Witcher because he had enough, and now, Chris Hemsworth who is famous for playing Thor in the MCU has had enough and is putting his foot (and hammer) down hard in how he is sick of being ridiculous on purpose.

THIS is what Disney, Netflix and a lot of media have to show making films and series that are not only devoid of love, but openly hate the source material and will create a media based on it just to spite it and its fans. Back when I was growing up, if someone on the set of a movie or show mocked the very piece they were creating and did not take it seriously, they got fired. If you don’t really want to be there and don’t even like what you’re working, then you shouldn’t be there. Now, it looks like insulting the media has become part of the creative process and is even encouraged. And that’s bad.

I admit that even fans laugh at the very fiction they love sometimes because we are not blind to its flaws or silly parts. It is even an art form to sit back and laugh at the silly side of our fandoms hence why we have spoof films like Dracula Dead and Loving it, the famous Naked Gun series, the Lethal Weapon TV series on Netflix, Shaun of the Dead, The Orville, the webcomic 8-Bit Theater and more.

But even then, it was still obvious that behind these parody pieces was a very obvious love and endearment towards the source material. In other words, we are laughing with them together with no hard feelings and we all still love what we love. The creators did not make these films or series because they wanted to make the original material look bad. They did it because they wanted to make us laugh. And even then, they were put together with care and with intent of making something great that all audiences could enjoy.

Now, pieces that are meant to be part of the official lore feel like hate letters to both the original fans and creators. And what do you really have to show for it when you create something with hate, resentment and with the intent to insult and punish the audience? Nothing. All you did was waste your time and made yourself look bad. Not to mention that when you make bad media on purpose, it becomes permanent on your record. Moreover, when you have a chance to work with something as big as She-Hulk, Star Wars, Superman, He-Man or other iconic figures in fiction, it would be wiser to give it your all and make it into something great like Noelle Stevenson did with She-Ra. Even if you aren’t a die-hard fan of the material, it is still honour to be picked to work on it, so it is better to treat it like an honour instead of a joke. And if you dislike it that much, it is better to kindly turn down the job.

The point is that Hollywood needs to not only remove hate from the equation, but to also put love back into the creative process. Too much of Marvel, Disney, DC and now, Netflix are plagued with meanness and hate, and the material is suffering for it. I also truly believe that deep down, these companies don’t want to be hateful or mean to anyone including themselves. They don’t really want to lose their loyal fans and don’t really want to make half-baked films or shows.

I believe that things are going to change and while I admit that maybe it will get worse before it gets better, I have faith. After all, DC, Marvel and Disney have been around long before this new wave of media came along. And it had its bad times before yet braved them. The Dark Knight rose once, he can do it again and so will all the other heroes.

After all, love is stronger than hate. If anything, the fact that these actors are taking a stand and speaking out is a sign of positive change. They are finally saying “no” and if there is one thing I have learned as a parent, “no” has love behind it.

Thank you for reading and as always, stay safe.

-Mary

#made with love #thor #chris hemsworth #henry cavill #the witcher #superman #superman and lois #dc #dc comics #mcu #marvel #marvel comics #she-hulk attorney at law #netflix the witcher #netflix #disney #no more hate

114 notes · View notes

nellarw95 · 4 months

Text

Happy Birthday Mel +68 🥳🎂🎈🎁🎉

Buon Compleanno 🥳🎂🎈🎁🎉

3 notes · View notes

ally-holmes · 2 years

Text

Nancy’s Wedding | Steve Harrington x Reader (ch.2)

Series Masterlist

Chapter One – Chapter Three.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader.

Word count: 4612

Nancy's Wedding | Chapter Two.

Steve and Robin's apartment wasn't what Y/N expected. It wasn't much bigger than the one she shared, but it seemed bigger. It had very little furniture, all well placed and with a purpose, everything was clean and spotless. Their bedroom doors were open when they invited her in, and that's why she got a glimpse of their insides. Robin's had its walls filled with different posters, she had a chair with a bunch of clothes piled up on it, and the sheets on her bed were undone; it was as chaotic as her. Steve's, on the other hand, didn't have any decorations on its walls, the bed was perfectly made and the untidiest spot in the place was a little pile of papers on top of his desk. Y/N would have never marked Steve down as a neat guy, but now that she saw it she thought it made sense because he also took very special care of his car.

Robin closed both doors in a quick movement as she kept talking about the building and neighborhood in a rant nobody was paying attention to. Steve took Y/N's coat from her to hang it next to his and picked Robin's from the back of the couch as a habit. Their dynamic was very interesting. As Robin kept buzzing around, offering things, and having ideas, Steve just gestured in silence for Y/N to take a seat and handed her a soda from the kitchen before taking a seat next to her on the couch. Running out of energy, Robin sat on the floor facing the other two.

"Why am I here, Robin?" Y/N cut the other woman before she could start rambling again.

"We need a story and we need for you two to actually know each other in case the others ask something."

"You've seen too many movies," the man sighed, relaxing in his seat with boredom. He was trying to hide his anxiousness, and if Y/N hadn't been paying attention she would've been fooled.

"What kind of story?"

"Well, how did you two meet, for starters."

"Lies will only mess things up. I think the truth a little spiced up is good enough. We met at work when you two came in looking for a job."

Turning towards her, Steve was now visibly paying attention. "And when did we start dating?"

"When was the last time you complained about being single with one of your hometown friends?"

"New year's eve. I think… Yeah, I told Dustin I was upset I didn't have a date to kiss at midnight."

"Nothing after that? Not even for Valentine's day?"

"Nope. I haven't complained to them."

"Lucky them," Robin mumbled under her breath. Steve shot her a killing stare.

"Fine, then we started dating by the end of January. That explained that you haven't complained about being single anymore and the fact that you're willing to take me to a wedding as a formal introduction."

They spent hours talking. Robin threw a few questions at them at the beginning so they started to know each other properly, but she soon became a mere spectator, drifting her eyes from one to the other, pleased with what she'd accomplished. Y/N and Steve talked about their childhoods and their time in high school, their relationship with their parents, and the circumstances that brought them to be in Chicago working at The Silver. It seemed quite superficial, nonetheless. With the heavy talk going away, they discussed movies, TV shows, and music. As might be expected, Steve Harrington was a Top Gun and Lethal Weapon fan, he'd seen every Tom Cruise movie to date too. She was nerdier, she loved science fiction and the kind of adventures that mixed history with myth, like Indiana Jones, for example. A point they had in common was their passion for Steven Spielberg's work. Steve seemed reluctant to admit that he cried with E.T. but Y/N knew just how to press the right buttons to have him confess.

Steve was a huge fan of Magnum P.I. while Y/N was more of The A-Team. They spent forty minutes just arguing about the plot of both shows, counting the pros and cons for each one.

"Okay, fine. Forget about action shows. Golden Girls. That's the best show in the history of television," she stated.

"I haven't seen it."

"Don't lie, Steve! He loves it," Robin made her small intervention.

"Betty White is a treasure. You should be ashamed of not admitting her amazing acting abilities, Harrington."

In their praising of actresses, they ended up confessing how much they both loved Murder She Wrote. When Y/N mentioned the X-Files, Steve started complaining about he knew everything about the show just because his best friend, Dustin Henderson, kept calling him and writing him just to talk about the latest episode that aired. It was so fun to see him all fed up with his friend; Steve talked with the affection of a brother, always complaining about the behavior of his young sibling, but loving him anyway.

With music, Steve was open to new things and wasn't as judgy as Y/N expected; he even liked songs from bands that he didn't enjoy fully and she could understand his position. It was easier to just like songs than bands. Still, he was more of an eighties rock type of guy. He liked Queen, Bowie, Tears for Fears, Bon Jovi, Bruce Springsteen, Journey, and The Police mostly, he also knew every Madonna song thanks to Robin's obsession. Y/N also liked some of Steve's favorite bands and that was something they started talking about how sad they were when Steve Perry left Journey in 1987. His voice always fits perfectly with the band! She also liked The Offspring, Metallica, Dio, AC/DC, and as for guilty pleasure: A-Ha. A very intense mix of music tastes.

It wasn't intentional, but the moment she mentioned her music preference, Steve and Robin shared a sad look. They recovered soon and pretended it hadn't been there, so she just ignored it. She decided that her music taste must've remembered them about someone from their past, maybe someone who wasn't there anymore, and she didn't want to push it.

"Are we expected to dance at the wedding, Harrington?" She tried to break the layer of ice that was building between them.

"Sure. I'm a pretty good dancer."

"He's not. He just loves himself too much."

"Well, I can dance even if I'm not good. A slow dance is a different topic. If you want to have a slow dance we'll have to practice or you'll end up with your feet destroyed."

"You don't know how to slow dance? What did you do at the prom dance?"

"I never went to one."

"Really?" Robin sounded shocked.

"Not even middle school."

"You most definitely need to practice," the woman sentenced.

"Cool, now I have homework," Y/N sighed. "By the way, do they know about you in Hawkins?"

Steve and Robin shared a look before staring at her like she had grown another head, "Know what?"

"That you aren't straight." To their silence, she looked up at both of them, "What?"

"How– How do you know?" Robin was very pale.

"Don't look so scared, Jesus! I don't think people at work know, I just pay attention. The moment you see a woman you like, lo ogle her just like Steve does."

"You've known since the beginning?" The other woman was having trouble processing the information. Steve had tensed when the conversation started, but the moment Y/N proved that she didn't mean any harm he had relaxed picking some chips from a bowl.

"Pretty much, yeah."

"And you still change next to me in the locker room?"

Arching an eyebrow, Y/N stared right into Robin's soul. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know." Robin, on the floor, hugged her knees against her chest hiding her face.

"To think that just a few days ago you were claiming to be too old…" Y/N came down from the couch to the floor, kneeling next to Robin she hugged her. "Come on, Buckley, you certainly didn't expect me to hunt you down, did you? We've met for three years!"

As Robin let her emotions overflow her, Steve explained that in general terms the town didn't know about Robin, but their closest friends did. Therefore, at the wedding, there would be people that know and people that don't know.

Steve offered to drive her home. They had spent a lot of time talking and planning their sham for the wedding and Steve felt the duty of compensating for her time investment somehow. However, she declined the offer as she had the feeling that it would push her luck. She'd had a great time with them and for the first time, she really thought they were just friends hanging out. She almost forgot that it was all fake.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, you make it very hard for people to do good things for you, you know? Fine! I won't drive you, but I'm walking you to the subway stop."

Proving that was his final word, Steve put on his coat and got out of the apartment. Y/N followed. She wasn't accustomed to being treated kindly without a hidden aim. Spencer and Dewey and Doctor Ross were the only ones who had done it and she never knew how to respond. Steve was trying, apparently, but he also wanted her to pretend to be dating him for his ex-girlfriend's wedding so…

"Why are you doing this, Steve?"

"Doing what?"

"Offering me rides and walking me to the train station."

He gave her a weird look frowning.

"I'm just confused. In these three years, you and I hadn't really bonded. We work in silence, mostly, and when we talk we banter."

"You don't think we're friends," it was a statement more than a question, but the tone was skeptical.

"Are we? Don't get me wrong, it's just that my knowledge about friendship came from the movies."

"I got my first real best friend when I was eighteen and he was thirteen. I'm in no place to judge you, but I've been trying to befriend you. Robin too. And sometimes it looks like we're building something, then you close yourself."

"Hmm… Yeah, Denny points that out a lot. I'm sorry, I don't do it on purpose."

He dismissed her apology with a gesture, "Who's Denny?"

"My roommate."

"Since when?"

"Since the beginning. Did you think I could afford an apartment by myself?"

"No… No. It's just that you never mentioned him. That's all."

"Her."

"What?"

"Denny as in short for Denise. She works at a record store. We barely see each other. Best roommate ever."

"You're weird."

"Still you don't say it as if it's a bad thing, you say it as a compliment."

"Because it is one."

"Liar."

She pushed him with her body. Laughing, he pushed her back softly. After a beat of silence, Steve complained about the weather and their conversation became empty of depth but full of intentions. They were building something, and now she knew it was meant to be built. Steve waited until she used the subway token to get inside the platform, and although she couldn't see him, he waited until the train arrived.

The band was still giving it all on stage, some punk rock from the new era with a woman with her short white-blond hair in spikes as the frontwoman. It was good, and Y/N bounced her head to the rhythm as she dried the last glass in her hands.

It was busy at The Silver when the most regular customer of all walked his way to his favorite stool with a friend right behind him. They had to push and fight their way between already drunk people, they even had to make people who were already on the stools.

"You're here early, Doctor Ross," she smiled politely.

"I'm treating a friend here. Mark, this is my guardian angel, Y/N."

"We've met before. How's your wrist?" Doctor Greene offered his hand, so Y/N gave him hers and he moved it, flexing it. "Healed well."

"I certainly hope so. What can I offer you, doctors?"

"I want a Flowery Miracle. Mark would take a Silver Sin." Ross' smile showed mischief.

"What the hell is a Silver Sin?"

"One of our best cocktails, Doctor Greene. Kind of sweet," she explained as she started to mix their drinks. "How's Carol doing?"

"She's at home now. Don't know much more. Hey, did I tell you about our new med students?" His change of topic was revealing.

Greene locked eyes with her and shook his head. As far as she knew, he was Ross' best friend and had the patience of a saint, as Ross had told her.

"What about the students?"

"They're third-year students and they think they know it all, but there's this particular student that's driving us crazy."

"He's not that bad. He has potential."

"Has he?" She half listened, still working on their drinks.

"Well, he's Benton's student. He wants to be a surgeon, you see, and for doing that he must be soulless."

"You just want him on your ER team, Mark."

"He's good with patients. He still has a lot to learn but he has potential."

"He's also cute. Thank you," Ross smiled when she gave him a long glass with a neon yellow drink and a straw.

"Oh, yeah. Very cute." Greene nodded to her, eying weirdly the grayish, sparkling drink in his voluptuous glass. "John Carter is the new toy for the nurses. Until now Dough was the most handsome doctor at the ER. Although I disagreed on the matter. Now is Carter."

"How cute is he?"

"I think you would like him. He's cute and he knows it. Carter always looks up; he lowers his head so he can look up through his eyelashes with his brown puppy eyes. He even wears suspenders!" Ross complained.

"Oh! Oh, this is good. Very good." Greene complimented the drink.

As she moved to serve other customers she found Steve looking at her; she winked at him. The night ran before them, Ross asked for some scotch for him after his cocktail but pushed Greene to try a different one. She overheard parts of their conversations and they asked her opinion on stupid subjects as the alcohol was working its magic. Mark Greene was leaning his head on the counter, his hands playing with a straw as he mumbled about how his wife kept pushing on the matter of him changing the ER for private practice. Ross wasn't even listening to him now, looking at a woman on the other side of the counter that wasn't paying attention to him.

"Should I call you a cab, Doctor Ross?"

The older man blinked several times in an effort to focus his eyesight, he smiled on a thin line deepening his chin against his neck. "Yeah. Yeah… That'll be good, kid."

"Same taxi for both of you?"

"Sure. I have to take care of this big baby over here."

"No. No. I have– I have to go home. Jen– Jen's going to be pissed. I– I'm really drunk." He laughed so hard he fell from his stool. Ross tried to help him up, falling too.

"Don't be ridiculous. She went to her parents' house, remember? With Rachel, for the weekend."

"Oh… Oh! That's true! That's so very true! You're a terrible friend. You got me drunk!!"

"Only a little bit."

The rest of the night went by with its usual flow. A couple of drunk boys tried to have her number, although they were too drunk to see her clearly. A group of secretaries that had Sunday free approached Steve after having ogled him for hours from one of the booths; he talked politely to them, showing his charm without really flirting.

The clock struck six o'clock and the place was empty. The waiters were already mopping the dancing floor and Steve and Y/N were finishing the bar. Robin got out of the kitchen dragging her feet as if they weighed a few tons each.

"I. Am. Exhausted." She groaned.

"You look like shit." To Steve's statement, Robin flipped him the bird. He returned the gesture with a smile.

"We still have half an hour to close up. What's wrong with you, people?"

"Mickey, we might start to think of closing sooner."

"Listen to him," Y/N claimed, pointing at Dewey. Spencer gave her a stern look. "Sorry, Mr. Spencer."

"Why do you just call us mister when you want to mock us? I'm getting old with these workers, Vincent."

Y/N shared a complicit smile with Dewey.

Spencer went behind the bar counter to look for the tip jar and do the equal piles, but he was so tired that he decided he wanted a glass of water first. He took one of the recently dried squared glasses, put it under the faucet, and filled it. The moment he was about to drink, his hand shook and contracted against his will breaking the glass in his hand. As he cursed, Steve approached to help him.

"Get away!" Spencer and Dewey yelled at the same time.

Y/N gave Spencer a rag, "I'll take of this. Go clean it up."

"Be careful," the owner pleaded.

Steve didn't understand why his boss was fine accepting her help, but not his. She crouched under the counter, took out a box of latex gloves, and put on two in each hand before picking up the glasses pieces that rested on the floor and sink.

"I– What's wrong?" He looked confused at Y/N and Dewey.

She knew the answer, of course she knew, but she would never tell a secret that was not hers.

"Michael is seropositive," the old man explained. "The last tests showed up that his transmissivity of the virus had decreased, but we still need to be careful. I know this is kind of too much. There's no way you'll get infected by touching someone else's blood unless you had an open wound, but…" Shrugging, Dewey faced Steve for the first time. "Better be safe than sorry."

"I have this under control, boss, you can go with him." To Y/N's proposal, Dewey nodded and left.

She was scrubbing the blood with bleach with the same sentiment as someone who had just committed a crime and wanted to destroy the evidence. Steve waited for her to get up again before talking.

"I– I don't understand."

Taking the gloves off, she gave him a skeptical look. "They've been together since the seventies. Together, together. Spencer and Dewey. They have a business together and they share a house, not an apartment, a house. Did you really not connect the dots, Harrington?"

"In his defense, I didn't do it either," Robin confessed under her breath.

"Well, yeah. They took me in when I was homeless at seventeen. I lived at their house until I was twenty-one, really. We found out about Spencer's five years ago. If I'm telling you this is only because Dewey agreed; if you want details, ask them."

Making a beeline to the office, Y/N left Steve and Robin to their thoughts. Spencer was seated in his chair as Dewey took care of the thin cuts on his hands wondering out loud if they should go to the hospital or not. She informed them that everything was clean and that Buckley and Harrington might have questions before disappearing.

Robin and Steve were sharing a whispered conversation with the counter between them.

"Hey, Harrington! The washrooms aren't going to clean themselves. Come on, you take one and I take the other."

In less than fifteen minutes the ladies' restroom was spotless, its walls and floors so clean that they reflected the light, and the mirrors were free from finger marks, dried water spots, and lipstick. Why use lipstick on the mirror? She'll never know. The place had a particular clean smell, a mix of cleaning products and bleach. Usually, it would have taken her a little more time, now, however, she had used the spike of adrenaline that the broken glass gave her to finish the five stalls, five sinks, five mirrors, doors, walls, and floors in less time. Thank God Steve was doing the other restroom, her adrenaline spike had left her and she could barely keep her eyes open with exhaustion.

Robin had been waiting outside and gave her a tired but anxious smile.

"You done? As we have tonight and tomorrow night off, I thought that maybe we could do the slow dance thing. What do you say?"

"I say I want to go home and sleep, Buckley." She led the path towards the locker room, closely followed by Robin.

"Steve will drive you home, and he will pick you up this afternoon. Just after lunch. We can have kind of a sleepover at our place!"

"Aren't we too old for sleepovers?"

"How many sleepovers did you have as a child? See? None. I had two before meeting all the gang. You can sleep in Steve's bed, he'll sleep on the couch."

"Now that seems just mean."

"He offered. Come on, say yes. Please. Please. Please!"

She sighed leaning her forehead against the cold material of her locker's door, "When I was little I wanted a dog. I've been trying to convince Denny of adopting one. Since I've met you I have that experience covered."

"Is that supposed to be an insult or a compliment?"

"A statement."

Just as Robin had told her, Steve Harrington was waiting outside her apartment building at three o'clock in the afternoon. He was leaning against his car side, legs crossed by the ankles, arms crossed across his chest, his hair allowing a perfect lock of hair to fall down to his forehead, and sunglasses. Damn, he was hot! He looked like the main character in a romantic movie from the eighties and there was no way he didn't know it. She loved it. She was screwed.

With her approach, he closed the distance offering his hand to take her duffel bag and put it in the backseat while he explained that he had done some grocery shopping for the sleepover and the bags filled the car trunk. His movements were smooth and clean, so calculated that he didn't leave room for her to open the passenger seat door to get inside, he was the one who opened it instead. Steve gave her his most shiny smile, pleased with her efforts for not smiling herself, pursing her lips, and biting the inside of her cheeks. She wasn't subtle.

The car ride was filled with Steve talking about how Robin had insisted on renting some tapes at the video store, which led to how he worked at a video store with Robin in Hawkins called Family Video.

"I honestly had no clue of movies and the manager was Keith. We belonged to different species in school, you know, he was the nerdy type and kind of creepy too, if I'm honest. He worked at the Arcade for some time and he never told us why he changed to Family Video now that I think about it, but there I go, with a poor resume basically begging him to take me in. Robin helped me get the job, I owed her. Keith's like this movie freak that wants you to know all the little details and remember all the names… Dude, I just watch a movie to enjoy it not to analyze it."

"And to make out with your date."

He gave her an offended look, she tilted her head to the side so he sighed nodding. "Yeah, that too. My point is that my only working experience was at an ice cream shop at the new mall of Hawkins, and that fucking mall blew up in July. I had nothing, and Keith was asking me about my favorite movies. I told him about the Star Wars movies."

"Really?"

"Yeah. What? Do I not look like someone who would enjoy some space battles?"

"You watched them with that friend of yours, Dustin, didn't you?"

"You're a demon and I hate you."

"That's a yes."

"Yes. It is, in fact, a yes. The movies were good, and I liked them. Dustin and I even had a secret handshake, you know? Pretending to be using the lightswords and all." He sounded very pleased with himself.

"Lightsabers."

"Whatever. Do you know what Keith asked me?"

"What?"

"To name the movie. I didn't fucking know they had different names!" And just with that, Y/N was laughing so hard tears were falling from her eyes. Steve enjoyed it, discovering there that it was the very first time that he had seen her laugh so truly. He did that. "I told him I liked the one with the teddy bears better."

"You did not!!"

"He wasn't going to give me the job. I assure you that even if I had had the same knowledge that him, he would still refuse. The guy hated my guts, man."

"Because you were popular in school and he was not?"

"Precisely. Also, the fact that I was an asshole in school didn't help my case."

"You were? I mean, I guess that it's just something that goes hand to hand, popularity and idiocy."

"In my defense, I'll say I was young, stupid, and had terrible friends. Although I doubt we can call them that. Robin would be pleased to explain my assholery behavior."

"Were you the kind of guy to mess with others?"

"Hell no. No. I didn't make fun of people but I didn't stop Tommy and Carol. And there's one time in which I broke Jonathan's camera. Bad time."

"Oh, my God! Did you bully the soon-to-be husband of your ex-girlfriend? Dude!"

"I know…"

"Dude!!"

He couldn't help but laugh with her. A comfortable silence settled between them afterward.

"So, what did Robin tell Keith for him to change his mind?" She reoriented the topic.

"That if he hired me, hot girls would come inside the store at all times."

"Big promise."

"I'm charming."

"You know, there's one thing that really fascinates me about you."

"Only one? Ouch."

"You're handsome. You're cute, you have the looks and the charm, and you know how to use it. You know the tools you have at your disposal. However, with some women, you use them perfectly and with most of them you just–" she snapped her fingers. "Man, I don't know how to explain it, but it's like you're all suddenly shy and awkward, and like you have zero confidence and, although it's very cute, it's also like watching a car crash."

Steve nodded as if he was considering her words. "That might be because I really have zero confidence," he confessed with a sad smile. "I don't do rejection well, and it's all I know which is ironic. Let me tell you, though, that all I'm going to remember of what you just said is that you think I'm cute."

"I don't."

"Yeah, you do. You said I'm cute, twice."

"That doesn't mean I think you are."

"But you do."

"I do not."

"It's alright, kid, I know I'm cute."

"Bite me!"

"Only if you ask nicely."

The fact that he gave her the same comeback she had given him before only made her want to smile more. Fucking Steve Harrington!

To be continued…

If you want to be added to the taglist let me know.

Taglist: @blackbirddaredevil23 @marisurmommy @lovesreality @noname10234 @p-rspective @heyyimmisunderstood @out--of-the-reality @lxdyred

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington series #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #steve stranger things #stranger things fic #er #fem reader #fanfiction #fanfic #fic

134 notes · View notes