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sinclairstarz · 1 month

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for the cinephile byler truthers. i made the party’s modern au letterboxd accounts

in my head mike wheeler is the film bro cinephile of the party. hes a big brad pitt fan and fincher is his favorite director if you even care.. dirty dancing would be in his top 4 if he was honest. he went to see dune cause hes a scifi nerd, ended up hating it so much and complained about it to will but still gave it 2 stars cause it was pretty. did leave a very mean review. very critical rater but mostly leaves high ratings because he just doesn’t watch things he doesnt wanna see.

alternative movies i considered putting: pulp fiction (5 stars), the killer (1 star), se7en (5 stars), across the spiderverse (5 stars), nope (5 stars) , the batman 2022 (4 stars), once upon a time in hollywood (5 stars), inglorious basterds (5 stars), the matrix (half a star)

the thing is so good and he has a poster of it on his wall in canon so it felt right. it just feels wrong not to do ghostbusters (plus its one of my favorite movies…) and yall need to hear me out on brokeback 😭😭😭 ur telling me he wouldnt bawl his eyes out??? ur wrong. will byers is a jake gyllenhaal lover. he watches dirty dancing a lot for mike, and loves ghibli movies a lot. he cried during rain man. honest rater but doesnt take it too seriously, mostly 4/5 star ratings

alternatives: saltburn (half a star), asteroid city (5 stars), blackkklansman (5 stars), the force awakens (3.5 stars), the perks of being a wallflower (4.5 stars), back to the future (5 stars)

rogue one because lucas has taste. its the best star wars movie, if u care. he would love how fun and goofy ghostbusters 2 is. in my head Wes Anderson is like the party’s claimed director and they all watch his movies together and do marathons because the weirdness, comedy, and emotional commentary is a perfect mix for them. so. bottle rocket. lucas’ favorite wes anderson is the grand budapest hotel if u wanted to know. he rates things pretty highly and isn’t super critical.

alternatives: dodgeball (5 stars), scream 5 (4 stars), the matrix (3 stars), good will hunting (5 stars), jurassic park (5 stars), die hard (5 stars),

likes making lucas watch gone girl on valentines day and telling him shes gonna do that to him next time he annoys her. v for vendetta is her favorite romance movie and shes a big marvel fan (in a cool way. kind of .) but thor ragnarok is probably one of her fav marvels, along with spiderman far from home and iron man. i just know she watches Casino Royale and decided she hated James Bond and then ended up watching all the Daniel Craig Bonds with Mike and loved Skyfall so much. the song is on her playlist and she did cry after No Time To Die.

Alternatives: Superbad (5 stars), baby driver (5 stars), bottoms (5 stars), 10 things i hate about you (3.5 stars), scream (5 stars), kill bill (5 stars), lord of the rings: the return of the king (1.5 stars)

also a bit of a film nerd. i considered giving him a star wars and i know in my heart he’d probably have empire somewhere in his top 4. but star wars is lame and i wanted to give him se7en so he fucking gets se7en. he knows john wick is objectively dumb but he doesnt care hes just here for a good time. the party probably watched saltburn together and all fucking hated it. I just know hes a kurosawa nerd and always goes when the local theatres do very rare special showings of his movies.

alternatives: baby driver (4 stars), the ewok adventure (5 stars) hot fuzz (5 stars) harry potter and the sorcerers stone (4 stars) legally blonde (5 stars) spirited away (5 stars) dazed and confused (5 stars)

she likes movies that make her feel all warm and fuzzy and hopeful. i wanted to give her breakfast club, but i think she’d honestly like sixteen candles more (even though breakfast club’s better). she cried at almost every movie in her top 4 and makes max rewatch juno with her like once a month. she gives most movies 5 stars unless she really hates them, and loves any movie thats fun to watch, even if its bad. she likes movies with pretty girls and fun colors.

alternatives: barbie (5 stars), legally blonde (5 stars), inception (2 stars), heathers (5 stars) pretty in pink (4.5 stars (she was mad andi didn’t end up with ducky)) my neighbor totoro (5 stars)

in conclusion if you haven’t seen They Cloned Tyron (2023) go watch it it deserved the oscar

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vind3miat0r · 5 months

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i need to explode Gavin and Freelancer with my mind

#im in a mood #i love my favorite sillies #my favorite trans-coded couple <3 #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redactedaudio #redacted gavin #redacted freelancer #vinn says fandom things #vinn says really dumb stuff

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raventrigonsdaughter · 1 year

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OH WE DO KNOW HER AGE FOR THE SERIES

#nice this actually clears a lot of things out in the timeline #wednesday addams #wednesday netflix #im so sorry for my moots that arent here for this shit #but this show is everything i care about right now #oh that must mean that #enid sinclair #is also 15 :3 #babies #wenclair stans our favorite couple are two dumb ass teenagers

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broke-on-books · 30 days

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😍😍😍

#accidentally slept through my only class today #which whoops sorry. (my 9am english)#which kind of killed step 1 of a plan of mine but thats okay #anyways THEN i had to go downtown to pick up this award bc i forgot to show up to the ceremony like a dumb dumb #but the building was like a 25 minute walk and it was COLD (punishment for my dumb dumbness tbh) but anyways i got there early so i walked #around the block and then went inside and picked up my medal #and i was already far downtown so then i popped my head in a couple of stores as i slowly walked back #got a few things from target. new hair clip nail polish m&ms pens and then a mango. very excited to eat that either later today or tomorrow #then i popped in the calligraphy store and then the comic shop and looked around. saw some white ribbon in the calligraphy store which ive #been looking for but didnt get it because it was a bit wide and kind of expensive and i want a lot for my project idea #(want to write out some of my favorite poems on them in sharpie and then use it to accessorize)#and then i went to the comic shop and peeked around. saw a nubia issue and a few gl 2021s in the discount bin but i didnt get them bc #they were all middle issues and i havent read those books yet although i do want to someday bc my guys were in them. one of the gl 21s even #had simon on the cover so i was very !!!!!!!! thats my guy!!!!!#didnt buy anything there but i did ask the guy to make sure to order a copy of the spirit world tpb so ill stop by to get that in a few wks #and then i went to the bookstore cafe and got a cold brew and did a but of English there. they have tables in the stacks its nice. the one i #grabbed was just surrounded by old paperbacks of sci fi and thrillers lol. didnt see anything id read but recognized a few author names like #card (no enders game though) and the pern lady (idk her name i havent read it). anyways did half a blog post thats technically late (ill #backdate though dw) and then packed up and i grabbed a gyro from the halal cart on that block which i just finished back at my dorm <3333 #anyways good times. now im gonna try and spam some work and go to freaking trivia team for the first time in a month later. oops #blah #oh and i think the halal cart guy may have given me a free soda. unsure abt that though bc its possible it came with and i was just being #silly again. so anyways i had a ginger ale too

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sorry-its-elliot · 1 year

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Dipping my toes into the malevolent podcast waters

(I am mentally unwell and clawing my way out of a pit of despair after listening to 20 episodes in 3 days)

#malevolent #malevolent podcast #a couple of my favorite dumb john moments #john doe malevolent #arthur lester

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darkmoonravewolf · 2 years

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Hunter: Why do you always take pictures of him like that?

Amity about to snap a pic of Ghost grooming himself in a weird pose: like what?

Hunter: like that! It's like you always come out of the shadows to catch him being weird.

Amity shrugging and taking a picture of Ghost: I do have cute pictures of him but I like it better when he's being a goofball. I take pictures of all the palisman being weird cause I find it cute.

Hunter:... do you have any of Flapjack?

Amity smirking and showing him a folder full of thier palisman in dumb situations on her scroll: Do I ever

#the owl house #the kit's cartoons #the kit screams!#incorrect quotes #amity blight #hunter toh #hunter porter #this one was inspired by my friend asking why all my pictures of my dogs are weird #and a couple people saying that Gus and Amity are bad at taking photos #you misunderstand me people #there is so much joy that comes out when you take a dumb photo of your pet #I feel like Gus and Amity would love to do that #Gus cause he's my favorite and I say so #Amity cause she's used to behaving perfect for so long so let's let her have a little fun with ghost

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crystalkitty1220 · 9 months

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I’m planning on making an incorrect summary of ibvs and this was one of the first ideas i had

THIS REMINDS ME OF THE TIME I WAS BORED IN CLASS AND WASTED LIKE TWENTY PAGES OF MY NOTEBOOK BY SCRIPTING A "IBVS IN A NUTSHELL" THING

tags are just me being nostalgic

#it was so fun but the only joke i remember from it was that i called the nevin goop ''gak''#and planned for someone to say ''the gak is back'' when it appeared again #but i got bored of the whole thing after season one so i never ended up writing that part of it #i made a couple little sprites as well but the lines were too thick and they looked bad. even for in a nutshell sprites.#man ive gotta go find that again. gonna search for it in my notebook.#okay its been two minutes since the last tag and i found it #okay highlights:#''the demon king of high school has decreed it. he says monday 8am i will be deleted'' (heathers reference)#*closeup of issac* *closeup of the door to the art room* *zoom out to show the closet door in between them* ''well frick''#oh god i was so hostile towards chris in this. not even pointing out actual flaws; i just went straight for the jugular. oh poor boy.#KIDS BOP XTALE i guess i couldnt be bothered to simplify his backstory #''haha magic? that's dumb. why would magic exist? magic doesn't exist. you're nor magical. i - definitely - am not magical.#why would i ever be magical? if i was magical you would know but i'm not magical so yeah glad that's settled.#*talking to viewers* my name is nevin jovel. i have magic powers and do an amazing job at hiding them.''#*also talking to viewers* ''my name is drew jovel and nevin's a fucking idiot if he thinks i'm falling for that''#''and i'm chris!''#CHRIS JUST SAYING ''ANIME FALL'' anime boy frrr #''i didn't. not at all. i am a normal human being. i cannot do that by myself. what do you think i am? a wizard?#because i am no wizard i have nothing to do with wizardry i-''#okay nevin definitely had my favorite running gags. running gaks. hah.#charlie: ''my anime senses are tingling'' it would have been such a good place for a 'ghost sense' danny phantom reference :(#nevin: ''day 4 of hoping nothing supernatural happens'' . monika: ''hello!'' . nevin: ''why''#okay so in between every chapter i planned for there to be a screen with the chapter number on it #''nah i'm good'' [CHAPTER 12] ''that was your cue to leave''#WAS IT EVER CANON THAT DEZ FOUND THE MONIKA RITUAL ON WIKIHOW OR WAS THAT JUST SOMETHING MY MIND MADE UP #there's a reference to it here and i swear i wholeheartedly believed it was canon for months #''never trust a wikihow ritual'' god that might be my favorite singular sentence ive written here #''what do you mean? nothing happened. it was just a normal day. nothing witchy happened i have nothing to do with witchcraft #it was just a stalker yes a stalker that i chased away with a hose not a witch that i scared away with witchcraft witches dont exist''#NOOO THATS ALL THE TAGS IT CAN HANDLE i'll have to reblog and add more

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sunlightfeeling · 11 months

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I gotta say…I really didn’t expect adult film star aerobics instructor Takuya to spontaneously combust last night…I just noticed the notes lmfao

…but at the same time, that’s my L…like this just fucking tracks

…it’s totally because of that one picture, isn’t it?

If y’all are reading/lurking, I appreciate you truly for the notes - makes the work of scanning all of these and editing them all the more worthwhile/validating

also some of you have dope-ass usernames, I’m pretty jealous of some of them…

#its really dumb but one of my favorite things about that magazine is that his first daughter was born like 2.5 months prior to that zine #like…had a baby and then came out as a foxy lady a couple months later #makes sense…#anyway thanks again y’all!

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astral-catastrophe · 1 year

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anyway work was fine, worked six hours. my coworkers are dope as hell, and even tho today was the first actual day, we were told this was one of the most successful the trainers have ever seen

#We’re just that cool #And I’m observant as all hell #So I catch things #But I had so many idiots asking me dumb questions today #But did good with recommending #One couple asked for my favorites and decided to try that #I also brought home chips and queso if any of the moots want it-

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mazojo · 2 years

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Dumb people are real

#The dumbest man Alive I love him #JAJAJAAJAJ BRO SHE LOOKS EXACTLY LIKE YOUR SISTER AND FAMILY HOW DO YOU NOT CONNECT IT #This is so MESSY I love it AKSJSKW swapped at birth gotta be one of my fav tropes #The girl kinda irked me at points but it’s too early for me to say so I guess we’ll see but some iffy comments #Apart from that I really liked it!!! Main guy my beloved he is dumb AND smart my favorite type of guy!!#I hope to gOD the sister ain’t a love interest thO but now I am sus but noo ahaa like I know they ain’t biological siblings #But they grew up 16 years as siblings lmao naurr #kakkou no iinazuke #a couple of cuckoos #anime #nagi #Erika

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luciusime · 4 months

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Apartment 21C, And The Fucker That Lives There

Bad things happened, but they weren't as permanent as Dylan thought they would be. Well, except for the arm. Fuck Monsters, and fuck loosing an arm. Spoilers, of course.

There are tags explaining what this is, but they're at the bottom. I recently finished the audio recording for a book called Fuck Monsters, which you can find on Reddit, YouTube, and Amazon should you feel like checking it out yourself. I liked it alot, made me laugh and then almost cried because how could you do this to my meow meows for real. Now that it's over, I'm writing a sorta fix-it comfort fic. I need them together and whole again. Also my AO3 iffin ya wanna read it there.

The ceiling of Dylan's new apartment is white, except for a little brown spot on the roof he tries hard not to look at. The walls are white too, and as much as he'd like to fill them with something, he really can't think of a single thing to put on them. The floors are bare too; once upon a time there might have been a rug or two, one at the door to clean shoes before you took them off, and one in the bathroom to catch water when you got out of the bath, but even though he'd moved in almost a month ago, he hadn't gotten around to going to any stores but the grocery and liquor ones. There's a tiny voice in the back of his head telling him he should be doing better, living better; but there's a louder one that yells that shitty bourbon is the answer to all of his needs.

He has the basics from his last apartment: the couch, which was brand new when it made its way to his last apartment so now it's mostly fine; his king sized bed, which was a nice bonus from the hazard pay from his last job; his dresser, which served as a kind of bookshelf for a few titles he'd picked up while at a general store getting groceries; all the stuff that went in a kitchen and a tv. All in all, everything he'd need for his "indefinite leave" which headquarters was miraculously paying for.

He hates it.

He hadn't been without a job to do in years, so he'd almost forgotten what he did before. But when he did remember, he discovered it was just more drinking. 'cept he'd had friends to drink with before all this.

He puts his current read down on the coffee table beside him and carefully sits up, taking a moment to lament his redeveloping ability to roll off the couch before standing. He walks over to the kitchen and grabs a half empty fifth of…something, hell he doesn't know. He'd peeled the sticker off the bottle for some perceived slight while he was shit faced, and he never really bothered to look at the bottles when he bought them, only the price. Sadly, while headquarters covers his apartment and minor living expenses, booze is not among their list of covered necessities. Either way he steadies the bottle against the counter and pops the cork out, tipping his head back as he empties some more of the bottle down his throat. He sets the bottle down as he turns to the fridge.

His hand grasps the handle of the fridge, except it doesn't, and he sighs as he reaches out with his left hand. That too had been a problem for the last two months. Forgetting, feeling it when it wasn't there, face planting into doors and walls and floors when he slips up and forgets. Stopping his falls, of which there were many, had become a serious problem. He almost broke his nose the last time he'd fallen over one of his shoes that he'd left on the floor. He got more careful where he left his things after that.

Looking into said fridge, nothing strikes him as particularly appetizing. There's some sliced pineapple, milk, leftover take out, and some lunch meat. He's about to close the fridge without getting anything, but his rumbling stomach reminds him he hasn't actually eaten anything that day, so he grabs the lunch meat and closes the door with his hip. It takes some maneuvering, but he's eventually able to get his bag of lunch meat and his bottle of booze in his hand before he makes his way back over to the couch. Upon looking though, he decides the couch isn't really where he wants to be, and so he retreats to his room.

His room is dark, the blackout curtains drawn over the afternoon sun and the lights off from when he had left it that morning in a burst of surprise energy to go running. He doesn't bother turning the lights on as he walks over to his desk and sets his goods down to start his "lunch".

By the time he's done, it'd been an hour and he's thoroughly smashed. He'd gone slow with the rest of the bottle, purely because he hadn't had anything to eat that day, and because he literally could not tell you if he'd had water in the last 72 hours, so the buzz is pleasantly spread across his body and not giving him much nausea. His bag of lunch meat had run out about 5 minutes in though, so there he sits at his desk with an empty fifth and a plastic bag of nothing.

His bones creak as he stands and moves over to his bed, sprawling out as far as he can. He lets his hair dangle in his face as his eyes drift closed. For a long while he just sits there, feeling all together as pleasant as he could. It might have been seconds, it might have been minutes, but it was nowhere near hours when for the first time in 2 months, there was a knock at Dylan's door.

At first he doesn't get up, very sure that it's a door to door salesman or something of the like, but then the door is being pounded on and refusing to be ignored. Before he could get up though, the pounding stops, and a tapping on his window starts. Dylan might not have been on an assignment, a hunt, in a while, but two months is in no way enough time to erase the instincts and paranoia that had been pounded into his body during his time as an exterminator.

He crouches low to the ground, slipping the replacement he'd gotten for his beloved gun out from under the bed as he slowly backs up towards his bedroom door, intent on putting as much space between him and whatever was at his 4th story window as possible to buy him some time to think. Well, he was backing up, until another pounding starts at the door, and seconds later more tapping comes from the glass of his window. For a moment he feels something brush across the back of his head, sliding over his shoulders before entering his ears, a whisper of a whisper. He shakes it off and continues out of his room, intent on locking himself in the windowless bathroom so he can call someone from headquarters to make sure they were doing something about the current situation outside of his apartment.

Halfway down the hall however, he freezes as a voice rings out from the front door. It's scratchy and low, like years of smoking makes a voice. It isn't loud, but it projects across the threshold of his doorway nonetheless.

" I know you're in there you motherfucker, open up Dylan," and hasn't he been longing for months to hear that voice one more time, his alcohol addled mind whispers as yet again that force slides over him and into his ear. Once more he bats it off, but this time there's more than just a whisper, and Dylan thinks this might be the point at which he's lost his mind.

" I know this is overwhelming Dylan, but I promise you can open the door, no harm will come to you."

He's gonna scream, he thinks to himself as tears well in his eyes and his mind fumbles over itself to provide any and every monster it can think of that could mimic a voice like that without previous contact with the owner of the voice or someone who had met that voice. He thinks about any and every encounter he has had in the last two months, and the answer he comes up with is emptier than his work email. He grips his gun tighter as he slides down the hallway wall just around the corner of the living room.

More sounds come from the front door, this time not accompanied by the hellish knocking on his window. He buries his head in his knees as once more those voices come from his door. He pulls his arm in so his gun is pointing straight up and his elbow is resting on his knee. He wishes he had his other hand to better block off the noise.

Not real, not real, not real, not real, not real, not REAL, NOT REAL, NOT REAL.

" I promise this is real."

Softly, ever so softly, that same energy comes around him again, this time accompanied by a second less familiar one, and he doesn't know whether that should frighten him or reaffirm that this is, in fact, a monster come to torment him one last time now that he's down on his luck. The second one doesn't hurt though, no, it's just as gentle as the first as they roll over his mind and begin to show him things, to tell him things.

An image of that day, that horrible day, starts to play in his mind. It's from the eyes of someone else, thrust right into the center of the cluster of parasite ridden bodies, and as soon as he heard that smooth voice, like aloe over a burn, he knew that this was a memory from Theodore. He ripped free the first time, crushed Athena and watched as her look of gratitude shifted to nothing as she became a fine mist, watched as Theodore's win became temporary, then nothing at all as the world went black and all that Theodore was was ripped from his chest and made to be a part of the thing.

Suddenly he's looking at himself, whole except for the wounds to his legs, and at the sight of those he can feel a slight pang of regret that isn't his own. Memory Dylan was propped up against the wall looking on at the destruction and creation wrought around him, and then he was once again subject to Sandra's plan. As memory Sandra slipped away from memory Dylan, part of him wants to beg her not to go, to stay with him as the end came about, but this was only a memory. He felt as that ever steady presence slipped over the thing and found Theodore.

As soon as Sandra started talking he can see Theodore from above, from behind, from in front, from below, from so many impossible angles it makes his head begin to hurt, and then just from above again as that first energy, one he's beginning to grow frighteningly fine with, settles on the best direction to view from.

Sandra of the memory explained the plan to Theodore, going as fast as she could now that she was fading almost as quickly as her words could come. He understood just as fast, and once more he was a witness to the prowess of his former teammates. In that moment, for a brief second between bouts of grief, horror, and rage it's enough to make Dylan feel stupid, once more inadequate in the face of their genius and ability, and then he's just sad again. The second energy, one he's having to fight not to put a name to in fear he'd be gravely wrong, slides down his skull and over his back in what he thinks is supposed to be a comforting motion. Really it just sends a shiver down his spine.

As memory Theodore ripped himself free from the being's control with the help of memory Sandra, there was no sight or sound, only feeling as he boldly lashed out once, then twice as Dylan failed to hit the first time. Then a third, final lash to close the portal for good. As the world began to fade, Dylan felt as his two closest people began to do so as well, wrapped around each other so as not to truly die alone.

What Dylan had missed as he was leaving, and the clean up crew had missed as they were coming in, was a single little light, a pure gold wrapped in brilliant silver, drifting down from the air and settling into one of many cracks and crevices of the building, one that no one had bothered to check. Slowly the one light became two, and then none at all. For a moment Dylan thinks they had finally died and found rest, but then the world started spinning, gnashing against reality in little, unnoticed ways.

2 months, 1 month to wake up and realize they weren't dead, though it was a little longer for Sandra, and another to use that discarded, unnoticed mystery meat to make new bodies. Dylan looks up from his knees and to the door, and with all of his heart he wants to tear it open and gaze upon those two faces, but he knows what monsters are capable of, and he had taken Sandra's ashes back home for her and watched as those things tore Theodore to pieces. But as that familiar energy runs over his mind and the second slips over his body, he can't really seem to bring himself to care. He hasn't had a purpose in two months, nothing to keep him going besides the knowledge that to end himself with the last thing headquarters had authorized him to take would be giving them too much.

As he rips the door open and lays eyes on those two faces, identical to his memory, he reasons that it doesn't really matter whether or not the two outside were monsters, because really, what else does he have to live for. They're frowning as he looks at them, probably on account of the fact they can read his mind and his thoughts were pretty self-deprecating, but that doesn't even matter as he tries to wrestle them into his arm. They eventually start helping by wrapping him in their four perfectly working arms, and he starts crying in earnest once he's surrounded in their very real warmth. If he didn't know that his neighbors were at work he was sure that they would be peaking at the spectacle happening in front of his door, but there's never anyone around during the afternoon.

One of them, Theodore he thinks, backs them into his apartment and kicks the door shut. Then in a move that is entirely Theodore, he's being hoisted into the air along with Sandra and startled out of his tears. They begin moving towards the couch, but all his mind can think about is how it's too small to comfortably fit them all in a way they could remain touching. He needed them to stay touching. He yanked on Theodore's hair slightly to get his attention before motioning towards his bedroom door. He feels Theodore slip over his mind and is grateful he won't have to talk as his breath stutters over a tearful sob. He gets the message loud and clear, and steers them towards Dylan's room.

Theodore softly dumps Sandra and Dylan onto the bed before moving to climb in on Dylan's right. Sandra tucks her head into the left crook of Dylan's neck, pinning his arm to his side as she throws hers over him, and Theodore warps as much of the two of them as he can reach up in his arms. Dylan cries for the next 10 minutes, and the two just let him. No judgment, no probing, no words. When he's finally done he keeps his head buried in Theodore's chest so he doesn't have to look them in the eyes. Sandra runs her fingers through his hair softly as Theodore taps little nonsensical rhythms into his cheek. They don't talk, not that night, they just sit there and enjoy each other's company. Dylan hopes they never leave him like that again.

Fuck Monsters, and fuck being alone

#i just finished the youtube audio recording for this book called fuck monsters #it was really good #and i had like this whole list of tags when i made the draft for this post this morning when i finished the book #but tumblr is so very dumb #and they got deleted #but #the book is by a redditer #u/RehnWriter #or Rene Rehn #Rene Rehn #and the youtube recording is by Jordan Grupe Horror #Jordan Grupe Horror #and these are my newest blorbos #my little meow meow #Dylan #Sandra #Theodore #who is my favorite little rat bastard #im gonna give you a couple head cannons while im here #im pretty sure Dylan is the oldest and Theodre is the youngest #Sandra is the middle one #being somewhere in her mid to late 30s but not yet 40 #where as Dylan feels 30-40 something years old #and gor reasons i cannot properly explain but would be happy to ramble about #Theodore is mid to late 20s #also for reasons i could ramble about #i think Dylan's parents are no contact or dead

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sttoru · 28 days

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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you leave megumi with your husband so you can make them breakfast. you quickly realise that that might have backfired.

wc. around 1.3k

tags. dad!toji x wife!female reader. fluff. reader gets called ‘mama’ by both toji & megumi. half beta read.

“ow, careful there, brat.”

your husband’s deep voice echoes from within the bathroom. you’ve left megumi in his care this morning so you’d be able to make breakfast in peace. toji was all grumpy about it, since he had to wake up early when he had no work, but eventually agreed to your proposal.

you hum your favorite song while frying eggs. the sizzling in the pan did help avert your attention from toji’s grunts of annoyance somewhere in the distance, though only for a couple seconds. your hear your child’s laughter slip between the noises of aggravation. it piques your interest.

“one more time and i’m putting y’r ass in time out,” toji’s deep voice sounds muffled. he sounds rather serious about whatever is bothering him.

you turn the stove off and walk towards the hallway, standing at the doorframe as you look in the direction of the bathroom. you tilt your head and try your best to pick up on snippets of the conversation between your husband and son.

the sound of bottles dropping on the floor is the first thing that allows you to guess that megumi’s acting up. you know how mischievous your little toddler can get, especially at his age. toji isn’t one to gentle parent his kid—he tries to, of course, but sometimes he can’t help but be a bit rough.

“megumi fushiguro.”

you raise your eyebrows as toji uses your child’s full name. he rarely does, only when he’s really upset or about to lose his marbles. you decide to see what was going on for yourself. you walk towards the bathroom, cleaning your hands against the material of your apron. you knock once before pushing the door open.

you stick your head through the little gap, ready to identify the cause of the commotion. the first thing you notice is the chaos on the floor; bottles, tubes, toothbrushes, and all other kinds of products lay cluttered on the bathroom tiles.

your eyes then land on your husband’s broad and scarred back, “hey, honey. did something hap—”

your voice trails off once toji turns around, revealing the jaw dropping scene. nearly his entire face is covered in loads of shaving cream and even his black hair hasn’t escaped the soft foam.

the bathroom counter is completely wet, and the water runs down the edges in small drops. the culprit of this entire scene is sitting right on that same counter, clapping his dirty hands together that were smeared with toji’s shaving cream.

you blink and walk towards the two. you can’t possibly be mad at the sight, finding toji’s situation more funny than worrisome. You try to act serious and clear your throat, “uh, yeah. so what’s happened here?”

your husband rolls his eyes and nods his head at the little boy in front of him, who’s giggling and kicking his legs. toji tries to wipe the shaving cream from his nose, attempting to get it out of his hair as well, “i tried to be a good dad and include him in my morning routine, that’s what.”

the man clicks his tongue as he now realises how dumb of a mistake that was, “gave him the opportunity to put some shaving foam on my jaw ‘n the brat totally blew it. started attackin’ me with the stuff.”

toji grumbles. he wipes away the foam that got on the mirror afterwards. it’s nearly gotten everywhere. he lightly nudges megumi’s forehead with a scoff, “never again, y’hear? the little shit can’t sit still for even one second.”

that explains the stuff on the floor. you know that megumi could grow bored easily if he isn’t the centre of attention. he’d start doing anything to be the focus of his parents. toji probably didn’t pay him much mind, wanting to get his morning routine over with.

“language, honey.” you sigh and look down at megumi who’s still reaching his messy hands up to his dad.

toji huffs and leans back, not giving the little boy a chance to put more shaving cream on his face. he’s learnt his lesson; kids do not understand it when you tell them to ‘only put a little bit’.

megumi whines and threatens to throw a tantrum. you notice that immediately and try to keep his mind off things by picking him up. you turn on the faucet and try to wash his little hands, “c’mon. give mama your hands.”

the little boy shakes his head furiously, squirming in your embrace in attempt to get away. you sigh and grab his little wrists gently. you lower him to the sink, trying your best to wash away the shaving cream as the first step of solving this grande mess.

“no, mama!” megumi is stubborn as he voices his complains. toji watches from a distance whilst he struggles to clean the overload of shaving cream from his face.

you make the mistake of letting go of your child’s wrists to grab a washcloth. megumi takes his chance and pats his messy hands against your face, leaving you no space to process what he’s doing.

your mind takes a second before you realise what’s happening, “hey! quit it, ‘gumi.”

you try to grab ahold of megumi’s tiny hands again, but they move too fast for you. plus, he’s pretty skilled at avoiding yours. you can feel the foam slowly cover your entire face; from your jaw and cheeks, to your nose and forehead.

it was inevitable at this point.

“toji, do something,” you grunt and struggle to contain the energetic toddler in your arms. you take a peek at your husband and find him grinning at the predicament you’ve gotten yourself in.

toji simply shrugs and enjoys the fact that you’re experiencing exactly what he had experienced just moments ago. seeing you struggle to contain your disobedient child only proves that his parenting skills are not the problem in this situation, your toddler is.

“ye did that to y’rself, mama.” toji hums in amusement. he leans against the wall, the blue towel now loosely hanging off head after he’s given up on getting the foam out of his hair, “now y’know what i’m talkin’ about. he’s a lil’ monster.”

megumi squeals in victory after he’s gotten both his parents covered in shaving cream. you want to say something to your child, but you’re at a loss for words. even now, you cannot bring yourself to be mad at him. he’s just a kid who’s having fun with his parents.

“i made mama pretty! hehe.” megumi grins and encourages you to look in the mirror. he points at your reflection and awaits the words of confirmation. his blue eyes look up at you, nearly sparkling with joy, admiring how pretty he’s made you look with that white foam all over your face.

toji joins in on the fun. he comes to stand behind you, looking at you through the mirror. he snickers, already forgotten about his irritations that occurred in the first place. he nods in approval at megumi’s words, “gotta agree, son. y’r mama looks much prettier like this.”

your husband’s teasing comment adds fuel to the fire. though again, you cannot bring yourself to be upset at the situation.

you look at the reflection in the dirty mirror. you all may appear disheveled due to the foamy mess on your bodies—and yet even at that moment—the only thing you actually manage to see is a happy family of three.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #toji x reader #jjk fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jjk x you #toji x y/n #jjk x y/n #female reader #divider by cafekitsune

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chestharrington · 6 months

Text

Girls On Film || Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve's absentee parents gift him a camcorder for graduation. What better way to find out how it works than making a sex tape?

Couple: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Content Warnings: explicit smut (f!receiving oral, handjob, p in v sex ft. girl on top), sex on camera, filming a sex tape, lovey-dovey adorable dorks in love

Word Count: 3.7k

Your heart soared with pride as Steve walked off the football field towards you, wearing a goofy-looking gown and graduation cap. As soon as he reached you, he lifted you up and gave you a tiny spin, smiling ear to ear.

“You’re looking at a college grad,” he said with a smug smile after he put you down. You beamed at him as he lifted his hand and showed off the shiny gold class ring. “I’m never taking this thing off.”

You grinned, tugging at the graduation gown. “What about this thing? You willing to take this off for me?” You smiled wryly and pressed a kiss on his cheek.

A throat cleared behind you both and you turned, looking at the party and Robin standing with various levels of disgust evident on their faces.

Robin wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Keep it in your pants, please. Or, I guess keep it in your large, nylon zippy robe.” She squeezed between you and kissed Steve on the cheek. “I’m so proud of you, Steve.”

Dustin stepped forward next and gave Steve a big hug— he’d hit a growth spurt since you last saw him and was nearly as tall as Steve. Lucas, Will, and Mike all offered their congratulations combined with complaints about how boring the ceremony was after they got through the H last names.

Max crossed her arms as El wheeled her over, trying her best to be nonchalant. “I can’t see you, but I know you look dumb in that stupid hat.” Steve gave a fake laugh, took the hat from his head, and placed it on hers. “Ew, it’s all sweaty, you jerk.” She smiled despite herself and held the hat against her chest.

Steve wrinkled his nose in a way that told you he was trying his best not to cry. You knew it meant a lot to him that they’d shown up.

“Why don’t we all go for lunch?” You suggested. “My treat.” Not wanting the reunion to end, and not wanting to turn down a free lunch, everyone piled into their cars and headed to Steve’s favorite place.

When you and Steve got into his car, you were greeted by the shrill sound of his car phone ringing. With a furrowed brow, he reached over and retrieved the bulky device from its bag and answered. Even from across the car, you could hear the tinny noise of his mother speaking on the phone.

“Yeah, the ceremony is over,” he said, jaw ticking. “I sent you both the invitation two months ago.” He looked over with an exasperated look, so you grabbed his hand to give a comforting squeeze. “Well, we’re all going to lunch if you can make it.”

You frowned, but didn’t say anything. Despite their apparent lack of care, you knew that he valued their approval and time.

“Oh. Right, I understand.” He sighed deeply. “Well, I appreciate it. Okay. Okay, bye.”

He hung up and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “They, uh, they got double booked. They’re in Buffalo for a conference right now.”

Your gaze softened at the sight of his disappointed expression. “I know they’re proud of you, Steve.” He nodded, but didn’t look entirely convinced. You pulled the hand intertwined with yours up and placed a soft kiss on his knuckles.

————

When you arrived at your shared condo, you were greeted by a gift-wrapped box on the porch. You had to help him carry it in through the door, huffing as you both dropped it onto your coffee table.

Steve shrugged off the graduation gown he was wearing and kneeled to unwrap the present. A large card taped to the top revealed the senders, as if that were in question.

“To our firstborn son— congratulations! Love, Mr and Mrs Harrington.” The emotionless text almost made you grimace. You’d never read something more blatantly written by a personal assistant in your life.

“Jesus,” he muttered as he tore away the wrapping to reveal the gift. “This thing must’ve cost a fortune.” You glanced over as he held up a plastic case and found nothing that might have revealed its contents.

“What is it?” You asked, kneeling down beside him and leaning in close. He popped open the case and held up a hulking piece of machinery.

“It’s a camcorder,” he said with a grin. “It’s the best one on the market.”

You raised your eyebrows and tried not to ask what he even needed one of those for. Video cameras were for new parents and aspiring filmmakers, not college grads.

Your own gift felt tiny in comparison, even though you’d been saving for a few months to afford it. Between rent for you and Steve’s condo, groceries, and gas for your cars, it wasn’t easy to have expendable cash to buy nice gifts with.

You stayed quiet as Steve marveled at the fancy gift, holding it up to his face like he was testing how it looked through the viewfinder.

“Gorgeous,” he said, peeking out at you. “I think I found my muse.” You scoffed and covered the camera with your hand even though it wasn’t charged.

“Plug it in and we’ll see how it works later,” you said. “For now… I have a gift for you.”

He sat up, wearing a grin. “Is it lingerie? Is it dinner at The Olive Garden? Is it a bubble bath?” He leaned in and nipped at your jaw teasingly. “C’mon, tell me—“

You giggled as he pinned you down on the rug, peppering kisses on your cheeks. “Steveeee,” you groaned. He finally stopped, hovering over you. “You’re such a spoiled brat.” That made him grin even more. He pecked your lips chastely, then sat back on his knees.

You scrambled to stand up and grinned. “Stay there, alright?” He nodded and you disappeared into your shared bedroom.

Hidden away in your bedside table was a glass trinket box you’d thrifted a few months ago. It was shaped like a heart, with little gold foil embellishments. You couldn’t leave without it. You knew the real gift was inside, but you still hoped that Steve would like the box.

Steve was fiddling with the camera when you stepped back into the living room, trying his best to plug it in to charge. When he saw you, though, he smiled and sat down on the couch, waiting for you to join him.

“It isn’t much,” you insisted as you handed it over. “I hope you like it though.”

He smiled and nudged your cheek with his nose. “Are you joking? This is adorable. I love it. I’m gonna keep all my important stuff in here.”

You smiled and shook your head. “Babe, open it.” He looked sheepish as he lifted the lid, then his expression softened. You watched with a fluttering in your chest as he lifted the chain from the box.

It took months to save up for real gold, and then for the pendants after. Two initials— his and yours. “If you don’t like it, I can take it back and get something you actually w—“

He cut you off with a quick kiss that made your head spin. “It’s perfect. Best gift I’ve ever gotten, hands down. And one year I got Yankees tickets behind the plate for my birthday.” He was quick to put it on, smiling over at you. “How do I look?”

You pecked his cheek. “A million bucks, babe.” He leaned in and gave you a real kiss— deep and intense. You smiled against his lips and melted into his touch. You’d never loved someone the way you loved him.

“Wanna know what’s crazy?” He said after he pulled away. You nodded and he gestured towards the bedroom. “I bought you something too. Stay here.”

You sat patiently as he got up and hurried into the bedroom. You heard scuffling and the sounds of moving drawers until he returned, holding a wooden box.

“Your gift is inside this, by the way,” he teased as he sat back beside you. You watched him with anticipation until he flipped it open and your heart stopped.

“So, uh, I got you jewelry too,” he said softly, or maybe your ears were just ringing.

Inside the box, nestled in the middle of a tiny silk pillow, was a diamond ring.

Like, a diamond ring. The kind you get married with.

“That’s—“

He nodded. “Yeah, it is,” he said, grinning ear to ear. “Will you marry me?”

In lieu of a verbal response, you put the ring on and kissed him like he was your one and only source of oxygen. It felt like it anyway— that if you parted from him even a little you’d cease to exist.

“Yes?” He asked, smiling nervously. “That’s a yes?”

You kissed him again. “It’s a yes, Steve. I wanna marry you.”

———

Steve forgot about the video camera in the excitement of the engagement. Because he had to call Robin’s hotel and let her know, and then she spilled the news to the party, and suddenly it felt like everyone from Hawkins was in the tiny condo.

After hours and hours of catching up and celebrating the day, you and Steve were left alone in a quiet house.

“So… the future Mrs. Steve Harrington…” you turned and rolled your eyes at the sight of Steve holding the video camera that had been charging all night. “Anything you want to say to the camera on the night of our engagement?”

“How do you know I’m not keeping my last name?” You asked as he got closer, putting the lens right in your face. You giggled and ducked out of the way as the lens came close to knocking against your nose. “You’re such a child.”

He grinned. “Alright, give me something to remember this night by. For posterity, baby.”

You smiled wickedly at him before lifting the hem of your shirt, flashing your tits at him and the camera. By the time you lowered your shirt back down, his mouth was ajar. “We are never showing anyone this video now.”

You grinned. “Nuh-uh, baby, this is all for you.” You raised your brows in a challenge and stepped into the bedroom, leaving him to hurry behind you with the clunky machine.

He stood in the doorway, camera focused on you as you slipped off your blouse and skirt. The whirring of machinery inside the camera indicated he was zooming in on your tits. You stifled a laugh at the noise as he zoomed out again, taking in all of you.

“Strip for me,” he directed behind the camera. You gave a wry grin as your thumbs slipped behind the waistband of your panties and dragged them down your legs slowly. “Fuck, you’re so sexy. Gonna put on a show for me?”

You settled on the bed on all fours, back arched as you crawled towards the headboard. Steve groaned at the sight, breath shuddering as you flipped around and spread your legs for him. Without needing instructions, you slipped one hand between your legs and let the other move to your chest, kneading your breast between your fingers.

He moved from the doorway— the magnetic pull of you too much to resist for long. He settled at the end of the bed, the camera so close it made butterflies swell in your tummy. He moved the camera to your hands, one between your legs, teasing your clit and dipping into the pool of arousal at your center, and the other toying with your nipples, the shiny diamond on the engagement ring glinting with each small movement.

“Christ, baby hold the camera—“ he said suddenly, passing it over to you. You laughed as he practically threw it into your hands and you had to scramble to turn it right side up.

You laughed as he tore off his clothes, probably popping some buttons here and there. “Steve, what are you— oh!”

Without hesitation, Steve buried his head between your thighs, moaning at the taste of your juices as he lapped at your pussy. It was a struggle to film him and enjoy the moment, especially since you had to watch him through the viewfinder. But something about capturing something so intimate on film made a thrill run through you.

“Fuck, Steve—“ you moaned, being more vocal than you normally would for the camera. Fuck the neighbors, honestly. It was your engagement night! “Your mouth feels so good, honey.”

His brown eyes peered up at you, at the camera, framed by pretty long lashes. His lips formed a seal around your clit and he sucked lightly, making your legs tremble. Your free hand moved to his hair, tangling in the soft locks as his mouth elicited gasps and moans.

A slick sheen had formed on the tip of his nose, his mouth, and chin from his ministrations. The sight made heat bloom in the pit of your stomach. His eyes fluttered closed as he lost himself in you— relishing in your sounds, your smell, your taste.

A light pat on your thigh was his wordless signal for you to move and accommodate him more. You acquiesced, spreading your legs as much as you were comfortably able to, and he let his fingertips tease at your center.

“Relax for me, baby,” he said, his words vibrating against your clit. He gave the bundle of nerves a light kiss before he looked up at you. “I’ve got you. Just…” He pushed his middle finger into you and you moaned low in your throat, instinctively pushing back against the intrusion. “That’s it. Just like that.”

He was always so gentle with you during foreplay— taking his time to really explore every single spot that he knew made you tick. You shuddered as the pad of his finger pressed against a particularly sensitive spot within you. He knew you like the back of his hand— probably better. He slid a second finger beside the first, coaxing moans and gasps from you as he gave all his attention to your clit and g-spot.

Your thighs trembled as you fought the instinct to close them around his head, the stimulation bordering on too much. The softness of his mouth on you, the press of his fingers against the most sensitive spot inside— making you cum was simply too easy for him. You barely had time to gasp out a breathy “I’m cumming—“ before your orgasm hit you. Your walls gripped his fingers like a vise as he worked you through it, muttering praise against your cunt before he withdrew his fingers completely.

You stared at the ceiling, trying to find your breath. “C’mere. It's your turn,” you said with a grin.

Steve simply shook his head. “Not done.” He moved his mouth back to your cunt, this time without the hungry ferocity. You sighed at the sensation, your legs twitching when the tip of his tongue brushed against your clit. His movements lost purpose with each pass of his tongue until he was practically making out with your pussy.

Your head fell back against the pillows, soft gasps slipping past your lips. Steve moaned against you as you tugged his hair, a furrow forming between his brows. So utterly lost in you that he hadn’t even noticed that he was rutting against the bed for friction.

“C’mere,” you said softly. He pressed a final, wet kiss to your pussy before resting his head on the plush of your thigh. Your stomach flipped as he licked his lips, chasing those last remnants of your taste. He pressed a soft kiss to your belly before crawling up to meet you.

The kiss you shared was hungry and slow. The camera was shoved to the side so you could put your mouth on his— tongues meeting, the tang of your arousal and his spit flooding your senses.

A low moan escaped his lips as your hand snaked between your two bodies, where you took his length into your hand and stroked slowly. His mouth fell open, a small furrow between his brows.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned. You smiled up at him innocently and let your thumb glide across his tip. A full-body shiver overtook him, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. Steve was easy to love all the time, but especially when he was needy. “Switch spots with me.” When you furrowed your brows he nodded towards the camera. “Please?”

When he sat back on his heels, you moved from beneath him and let him settle with his back against the pillows. You were slightly annoyed that he had control of the camera, because goddamn. His thighs were bowed out slightly, cock resting against his stomach. The sight made your heart hammer as you straddled his thighs.

Steve took the camera back into his hands, a wide smile on his face. “Alright, just do what you were doing,” he instructed. “Left hand though.”

You glanced down at your hand and smiled softly. The engagement ring— your engagement ring— glinted up at you. You spit onto your hand and Steve groaned at the sight.

“Haven’t even touched you yet,” you teased.

“Don’t let me stop you.” His voice wavered, revealing just how needy he really was.

He cried out the moment your hand wrapped around his length, head tossed back against the headboard. His cock pulsed in your hand as it glided up and down, aching for more. You leaned down, spitting onto his tip, giving you more slickness to work with.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his chest heaving. You moved your right hand to his balls, kneading them as you focused your attention on the head. “Jesus, look at that fuckin’ rock, huh?”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled wryly. “That’s what you’re thinking about? Not— y’know— the handjob to end all handjobs?” To prove your point, you twisted your hand and let your thumb glide over his slit. He practically whimpered, bucking into your grip.

You redoubled your efforts, relishing in each desperate, whiny noise you were able to elicit. He was getting close— you could feel it in the way he throbbed in your hand, and hear it in the desperate pants and moans passing his lips. Before he could finish, you slowed your pace and let him come back from the edge.

He sat there, arm slung over his eyes, just catching his breath. “Earth to Steve?” You teased, placing a kiss on his tummy. He made a low noise in the back of his throat and took another deep breath.

“Okay, I’m good,” he said, a breathy laugh escaping his lips as he finally lowered his arm and looked at you. “Just needed a minute so I didn’t—“ You giggled as he mimed an explosion, completely unabashed about the effect you had on him.

He grabbed the camera and placed it on the bedside table, doing his best to angle it just right. “Alright… wanna take a ride on the Harrington Express?” He patted his thighs with a smug expression and you groaned in annoyance.

“Steve.”

“Fine. I’ll be so cool. I’ll be totally normal. But just know… you’re marrying a loser.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly as you straddled his thighs. “I wouldn’t have it any other way… most of the time.”

He stared up at you like you hung the moon, all doe eyes and heart-shaped pupils. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, tender and slow, and you hummed contentedly at the feeling.

“I love you,” he murmured against your lips. He moved one of your hands from his shoulder and down to his chest, where his heart thumped steadily. For you.

Your own heart lurched in your chest as a swell of emotions overtook you. “I love you too, Steve.”

You reached between the two of you, taking his cock into your hand so you could position him at your entrance. You breathed slowly through your nose as you sank down— the prep and attention he had given you made the stretch comfortable and bearable, so all you felt was the pleasurable full feeling that he gave you.

Once you were fully seated, you gave an experimental roll of your hips. A moan escaped you at the feeling— as each tiny movement made delicious electricity run along your nerves.

He sat up fully, his chest pressing against yours, holding you firmly against him. “That’s it, baby,” he groaned, cutting himself off to plant wet kisses along your jaw and throat. “Feels so good. Love the way your pussy feels around me.”

He cried out as you began to ride him in earnest, not caring how thin the walls of the condo were. His hands gripped onto your hips and dimpled the plush skin there as he began to meet your thrusts with his own. With each movement, you could feel him getting deeper until you could practically feel him in your guts.

“Steve,” you gasped out, meeting his gaze as he fucked up into you. The sound of his name seemed to spur him on.

“Say it again,” he demanded. “Touch yourself while you do,”

You whimpered at the tone of his voice, snaking a hand between your bodies to toy with your clit. Your limbs felt like jelly as he continued to fuck the life and brains out of you. “St-Steve, fuck, baby,” you cried between the hiccup-y sobs of pleasure that were punched from your lungs.

“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so tight. Not gonna last like this.”

“Don’t,” you managed. “Cum for me. With me.” You leaned in and kissed him in a way that felt like more saliva than lips.

When you pulled back, he nodded, forehead pressed against yours as you both worked each other over the edge. Your vision was spotted with pinpricks of light while he worked you through it, his moans distant in your ears.

You were both panting, nearly tacked together with sweat as you came down. You chuckled lightly as you tilted your head to look at him. “That was one hell of a celebration.” He intertwined your fingers and placed a kiss on your ring finger.

“And we have the rest of our lives to do it again, and again, and again, and ag—“

You shut him up with a kiss. You figure that for the rest of your lives, that’s always going to work.

It does.

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #lazy ghoul’s kinktober

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