Proudshinsoukinnie - Maiya - Tumblr Blog

HELP WHAT DO I DO. Why must i crumble under high pressure situations.

Crying this is so cute.

🫡bimbo supremacy

Bimbo’s are hot

Like and reblog if you can relate to this

GN and Male Readers when they see an interesting Reader story, but finds out that the story is actually for Female Readers:

Mm camera dump

Like or reblog if you save please~ 🫶🏽

Happy birthday to me happy birthday to me

Officially back im my mystic messenger era

Tbh though

Me when I stumbled upon a m!reader / gn!reader fics

Halloween is no longer my favorite holiday. 😍

Ending the debate guys

They are green.

i’m literally begging you to click this link and reblog that version instead oh my god

Reblog this if you still are in the it fandom

Hand up as well

✋🏾

THIS YALL. ITS SO GOOD.

Fight Club narrator is irrevocably in love with me but can't bring himself to say anything about it and I put my dumb ass in Fight Club but Tyler Durden has his eye on me now. How would narrator react to knowing this, and how would Tyler pursue?

Narrator “Jack” and Tyler Durden x Male reader

Headcanons

The Narrator is referred to as Jack in this. When I wrote this, I imagined Tyler and Jack as their separate people. I tried to write the reader in a way that would catch not only Jacks but also Tyler’s attention, hope that’s okay.

 This became a lot longer than I had planned, so I hope you enjoy :)

 Tw for some mentioned homophobia. Mentions of violence (its fight club, so duh), nsfw mentioned but not described.

I'm always open for more fight club requests if anybody is interested. I know it's a pretty small fandom but ya know. I like it.

-          Jack had been dragging himself through the grey and repetitiveness that was society when he met you for the first time. A new person had joined the multi-billion-dollar company that Jack had slaved away at for who knows how many years.

-          You had been set up in the empty cubby beside Jack, the one that had been empty since his last coworker moved on to another mindless soul sucking job that paid a little extra.

-          He had been typing random letters in a document, trying to force his insomnia heavy eyes to stay open, his head drooping every now and then as if the weight of his brain became to much for his neck to bare.

-          Jack came to after you had already left to collect the materials needed for your desk. You had only been by to place your bag and leave your jacket. He heard people mutter and whisper, their voices muddling together into a wall of useless sounds, the kind that no matter how hard you tried, you could focus on enough to understand.

-          Jack felt something swell in his throat as he saw you as you went by the opening of his cubby. He could now see why people talked about you that way. You had multiple piercings and tattoos, the ink curling up your neck and crawling the back of your ears, as the fake stones in your piercings twinkled.

-          When you stepped back onto the floor, the whispers went quiet. A ringing noise filed Jacks ears as the sound suddenly left the room, an air of fake politeness filled the room like the gas from a stove left on too long. All it would take would be some comment, or any sudden movement to be the spark that would blow it all up.

-          Your hair was styled in a way that was unprofessional by most sheep’s standards. It was spikey but still manageable. In a way that no one could really punish you, as it didn’t break the clothing rules. Letting his eyes roam over you, he caught a flash of colour on your hips.

-          There, on your hips, you wore a colourful belt with spikes and buckles. And from one of the many buckles, hung a keychain of a rainbow flag. Jack could see the looks of disdain and disgust on his coworker’s face. As if your very presence was an insult to their existence, to their grey boring lives that followed the same patterns every single day.

-          Jack could hear the mutter of Jenny, the 60-year-old, thrice divorced mother of 4, whose children never visited her anymore. He had her use a slur under her breath, venom lacing her words as she asked why someone like you had to work here.

-          From the returned mother of Peter, married but unhappily, he would come in every day and complain about his wife and how she was unbearable. It was obvious he hit her. You were a hire from the higher ups to make the company look more “inclusive”, as “your kind” was becoming more accepted.

-          When you smiled at him, he felt a warm flutter in his otherwise cold and empty chest. It was like a flower unfurling its leaves under a streak of sunlight. He tried to smile back, but he knew it looked awkward. He must have been some sight, with the dark circles under his eyes and sunken in appearance.

-          As you looked to the side, your eyes meeting his, it felt as if Jack was struck across the face. It felt as if your fist met the side of his jaw, your ring covered fingers carving indents into his flesh and blood pouring from the damage.

-          But you just smiled and introduced yourself. Jack politely replied, welcoming you to the company. He felt his heart give a lurch as he caught the appearance of a tongue piercing as you spoke.

-          You grinned at him and made a comment about how you would be cubby neighbors, so you’d have to get along. Jack smiled, a little less tense this time, and made a smart remark about how he was sure you would get along just fine.

-          Some days you would style your hair different, wear different piercings or change your hair. You even started wearing intriguing and colourful ties as the employee rulebook said nothing about colour.

-          You were like a flash of light, a breath of fresh air or the relieving feeling of Tylenol kicking in and washing away a day long headache. You were a streak of colour in the otherwise grey and ice-cold world. You were warm and exciting. Nothing was ever the same being your cubby neighbour.

-          Jack kept up his work friendship with you, the warmth in his chest turning into a bonfire, later growing into an almost unstoppable forest fire. The smoke rising and filling his lungs and causing tears to gather in his eyes as the soot blinded his vision. But through it all he could still see you, your hand reached out to him as you handed him a stapler as he had lost his own.

-          Jack had even stopped going to support groups, as your very presence seemed to fill whatever hole it was, he had in his chest, tho he still had an impossible time sleeping. You were like a balm or an icepack on his otherwise painful existence.

-          When you one day came to work and gave him a present on his birthday, the forest fire grew even more, the flames consuming hundreds if not thousands of miles or privately owned property, tearing down the million-dollar mansions and low-income houses that struggled paycheck to paycheck.

-          He had never told you his birthday, but you just looked off to the side, a faint flush on your perfect face, at least in Jacks eyes, as you made some off hand comment about seeing it on the work calendar and since he was the only one at the office who seemed to like you, you felt like it would be a nice thing to do.

-          Jack smiled, like really smiled as the warm feeling that he now recognized was love bubbled over, like a boiling pot of water, or acid mixed with the right chemicals. He shyly thanked you, and when you grinned and went back to your seat, he let the fluttering in his stomach be instead of surpassing it like he normally would.

-          Inside the gift you had given him with a “Make your own soap” diy set with a sticky note ontop with some comment you had written about how “atleast making soap you get to decide, unlike this dump” and a winky face.

-          Digging deeper into the box he pulled out a shirt, it was thick and warm and on closer inspection it was a hoodie. It was black and had multiple patches and artworks embroidered into it. The string it was stitched with was colourful and obviously homemade.

-          In the hood was another note. In your recognizable scrawl It said “You always look so cold and small in ties and dress shirts. Its like looking at a wet, abandoned street cat. You should have something comfortable to wear”.

-          Only you had been on his mind, and curling the hoodie to his nose, he could smell you. This has knocked him over and edge he hadn’t been able to cross in as long as he could remember. He couldn’t deny it any longer. Jack was madly and uncontrollably in love with you.

-          Later that evening, Jack would lay awake in his bed, wearing nothing but the hoodie you had made for him. His forehead was sweaty, and his mind felt floaty as he had just had the best orgasm he could remember ever having.

-          You filled everything inside of him. From his thoughts to his guided meditation safe place. Where in the past it had been a penguin telling him to slide, was you, in your out of work clothes, cigarette between your lips and telling him to live.

-          Jack fell asleep to a bittersweet burn on his throat. He could never confess his feelings to you. It would destroy what little control he had over his life, and he knew you were so far out of his sphere that he would never have a chance.

-          So, when the next day came, he acted like he always did, greeting you with a smile and tried to ignore the unbearable flutter between his ribs as you smiled back, a new piercing in your bottom lip.

-          It was harder than he imagined, hiding fight club from you. Especially when you’d brush your knuckle over his bruised brow, your well kept and styled brows furrowed as you asked in to what happened.

-          That’s when Jack met Tyler Durden, and everything went down the rollercoaster that was his Life. Jacks’ apartment was blown up, he moved into the abandoned building with Tyler, and they started fight club.

-          Jack couldn’t help but look at the rings on your fingers, the gold and silver triggering the part of his brain that dreamt of being punched and hurt. He wanted nothing more than for you to pummel him into the ground, to kill him so he could be reborn yet again, this time to your kisses and touch.

-          Things kept on as usual, tho you became more and more worried as Jack become more disheveled and unfocused at work. It was when Jack had apparently been beating bloody by the manager that you put your foot down.

-          You had planned on crowding him against a wall and forcing out of him who had been hurting him, when you heard mutters of some so-called fight club. One of your coworkers, one of the lowest ranked there whose whole job was sucking up to higher ups, mentioned Jack and how he was a beast in a fight.

-          Your brow gave a twitch as you forced the guy into a supply closet with you, and with some prodding and threats you got it out of him. Fight club. You even got an address forced out of him and the times Jack was there before you left.

-          You ignored the side glances some of the other men gave you, knowing their eyes were all over your clothes and the way you carried yourself. Knowing it was a club for beating each other up, you had taken out your piercings.

-          That Saturday you arrived at the bar your coworker had given you. You had arrived before fight club was so happen and had taken a seat in the back of the bar, eyes on the door.

-          you were wearing low hanging jeans, so low the top of your hip bones was visible, and a short tank top, the shirt ending a few inches under your pecs. Over it you wore one of your sweatshirts, this one like the one you had made Jack. It was black, with multiple patches and smiley faces embroidered in many different colours.

-          On your feet you wore well loved boots, and your hair was ruffled in a way that would have you sent home at work. You had even gone as far as smudge dark eyeshadow around your eyes and paint a sharp edge to your eyes with eyeliner.

-          Normally at bars like this, multiple men would have already harassed you the moment you stepped in the door. But they had only seemed to size you up as you stepped in doors, some even letting their eyes falling to the exposed inked tattoo of your stomach and neck.

-          Catching the eyes of one of them, he immediately turned his head in the other direction, his ears going red as he did. He was blonde, the kind that you could only get out of a box, even his eyebrows had been given the same treatment. And he had a large still healing bruise on his face.

-          As they entered, the bar seemed to buzz as they started closing, tho only some men and mainly women left the building. As the group moved into the basement, you stood up and cocked your hip, letting your eyes roll over the many pathetic or desperate expressions. They reminded you of an addict about to get their next hit.

-          When Jack stepped into the building, you almost got up and charged at him to force him to tell you what the hell this was about. But then the other man swaggered in behind him. He had greasy but spikey hair, and wore clothes you assumed he dug up at the same goodwill that you did, and from his lips hung a crumbled cigarette.

-          As you walked down the stairs, you passed the man Jack had entered with. He stood as if he was greeting all the other men entering, but the moment his eyes landed on you, a cocky and lustful smirk pulled on his lips, as he let his eyes roll all over you.

-          You did nothing but roll your eyes at him as you moved past. Scrunching your nose at the cigarette smoke he puffed out as he gave some flirty greeting to you. When you just quirked a brow at him and kept moving, he cackled to himself as if entertained by your uninterest in him and moved to the front.

-          You took your place in the crowd, and watched as this man introduced the club and its rules, his eyes passing over you multiple times as he did. Beside him stood Jack who hadn’t seemed to have spotted you yet.

-          Soon the fighting began, and you leant against a wall with mild interest. You could see the appeal sure, but you liked fighting just two people, since it felt even better with no audience.

-          Jack choked as you stepped into the ring, working off your shoes, jacket, and the piece of fabric you called a shirt. He could help the ugly jealousy that boiled through his shock as Tyler seemed to eat up every inch of inked skin you revealed to him. Tyler spat the cigarette between his teeth on the ground and squared up.

-          Finally, as all the other new men had fought, Tyler stepped into the ring and called out to you. He went as far as to bite his lip and wink as he said you would be fighting him.

-          “How about a bet” he purred as you cracked your neck and stretched your wrists and arms. When you quirked your styled brow, he grinned and wiggled his owns as he said “If I win, you’ll go on a date with me”

-          You scoffed. “And if I win? Then what?”. Tyler kept grinning as he gave a shrug “Ill let you do exactly what you want with me”. You rolled your eyes and got into a fighting stance.

-          Jack had to hold himself back from barging into the circle to grab your wrist and drag you with him out of the basement and bar. He couldn’t bare you being hurt, but most of all he couldn’t take the way Tyler was looking at you, or the obvious half chub in his pants as you struck him across the face, almost sending him flying with your strength.

-          The fight lasted at least 15 minutes, Fists flying and blood splattering the ground. Soon Tyler was on his back, and you wailed on his face and head, punching him with the same strength one would their worst enemy. Tyler gagged and spat up blood, arousal, and something else fluttering his chest as you straddled his chest.

-          It triggered something inside his brain that you were stronger than him, and even after fighting for 15 minutes, you didn’t even seem winded, even as Tyler was staring to lose consciousness. As he started to hear ringing and lose his vision, he finally stopped trying to fight back and went limp, announcing the fight was over.

-          You pulled Tyler to his feet with ease, the man wobbling and crashing into your well built chest as he grinned up at you, tongue running over his bloody teeth as he squinted his bloody and bruised eyes.

-          You rose to your feet with the ease of a ballerina, sticking out your hand to help Tyler get up as the deafening roar of cheers and hollers rose across the basement.

-          “So, what do you wanna do with me” he purred, and you rolled your eyes and dragged him out of the middle of the room, letting the next two victims get a chance to beat each other bloody.

-          You dragged Tyler to a garden chair at the edge of the room near the stairs, placing him down into it with little care even as he groaned, head rolling back and Adams apple bobbing.

-          Jack couldn’t stop the glare he shot Tyler as the man clearly was showing off to you, trying to entrance you the same way he had all the other men in this basement.

-          Your lackluster reaction only made the need inside Tyler burn brighter. He wanted you. You were bright in a way that none of these other pathetic space monkeys were. You were his perfect other half, Tyler knew it. And if the glare that Jack was burning into the back of his skull was making Tyler want to act out even more, so what.

-          “Wait, you didn’t even give me your number” Tyler called, rolling his still dizzy head so he could look at your hips as you walked up the steps. Turning back, you huffed a chuckle, rolling your eyes and shaking your head before turning back around and leaving the basement.

-          As the fights continued and you had checked that Tyler wasn’t going to choke to death on his own tongue and blood, you pulled on your shirt and jacket, shooting Jack a look before you went up the stairs.

-          Jack could feel his fists shaking by his sides as he saw the flirty interaction with Tyler, who seemed to have caught the same infatuation with you that Jack himself had. If the dreamy look Tyler was shooting the door, you had just exited was anything to go off. It was either that, or you had given him a concussion during your fight.

-          Jack bit the inside of his cheek, the taste of blood spreading to his tongue as he tried to suppress the bubbling jealousy and rage at the very thought of losing you to Tyler. Jack internally cursed Tyler, for daring to speak to you in ways Jack could only dream of ,you had just met and he seemed to already have worked his way into your good graces in a way that took Jack weeks.

-          Tyler turned his head to Jacks direction, shooting him a bloody grin as if he had won some fight that didn’t involve their fists. As if he had won your affection and ripped it out from right under Jack. Tyler seemed to take some pleasure in the bubbling anger in Jacks eyes, the glint in Tyler’s eyes sparkling just a little bit more than usual.

I don’t think we, as The Collector/Collection fandom, appreciate the beginning of the first movie enough.  Specifically this scene-

I’ve never seen anyone talk about this on tumblr and decided that I NEEDED to because there’s A LOT to unpack here.  For anyone who hasn’t seen the movies in awhile Arkin encounters some wasps at the greenhouse and goes to tell the exterminator about it.  The exterminator, who at the end of the film is revealed to be The Collector.

1.  This motherfucker really set up a completely functional front called Mastertrap Exterminators.  Mastertrap.  What a pretentious asshole.

2.  Beanie.  Need I say more?

3.  He’s rocking so hard to whatever music(or victim screams) he’s listening to that he doesn’t hear Arkin at first and has to take out an earbud.  Now Squidward, I’m no constructionologist, but last time I checked you probably shouldn’t wear music playing headphones on a work site where other people are wearing hard hats.  Obvious OSHA violator needs to be added to his list of crimes.

4.  The thumbs up

The entire scene is roughly 15 seconds long but gives us incredible insight into how Asa Emory presents himself in a professional/everyday life setting.  He’s planning on murdering the entire family of that home and sure the exterminator front gets him into the house and shit, but I guarantee you this man did a thorough job.  That wasp nest?  What wasp nest?  Gone, annihiliated.    

The other thing about this scene that gets me is that he’s so calm when Arkin interrupts him and even gives a positive acknowledgment to the information given.  Anyone who has worked or interacted with someone that works in the trades knows this is incredibly rare.  Trade workers are usually portrayed as assholes on the job for a reason lmao.  Which just cements the widely accepted hc of Asa being soft spoken and passive in his public life.  Ok I’ve rambled on enough about a 15 second scene that I read waaay too deep into.  

What is this…

I wasn’t done scrolling tumblr.

Passing Notes

ST boys x M!reader | fem aligned + minors dni!

included in order: steve harrington, billy hargrove, jonathan byers, eddie munson, jason carver.

CW: swearing, mention of alcohol, drawings of nsfw content, mention of reader having a dick, cutesy, bad hand writing.

there are no pronouns used to refer to the reader.

a/n: LMAO I LOVE THIS BRUH THIS WAS SO FUN TO MAKE. please excuse my shit handwriting it is very difficult to write with my finger on my phone, but i tried to switch it up to match the boys themselves but idk my handwriting is just bad

steve harrington.

“Is this supposed to convince me?”

“Depends, did it work?”

“Steve, you could’ve just asked me to come over.”

“Oh. But like — did this persuade you at all?”

“No.”

“Noted.”

billy hargrove.

“What the fuck is this.”

“Art, baby.”

“Get out of my face, Billy.”

“Not till you fuck me stupid.”

“You’re already stupid.”

jonathan byers.

“Jonathan, this is the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m sure you’ve seen cuter things.”

“Yeah, like you.”

“Y/N.. quit it.”

“But you blush so prettily.”

“Y/N!”

eddie munson.

“Did you draw this?”

“No, an eagle flew through the window, took my pencil, and drew that for me.”

“Well, he did a shit job.”

“Excuse me?!”

jason carver.

“Uh.. what’s on the top?”

“Don’t read that, will you help me?”

“I mean — yeah, I’m just confused about this little part here — “

“Don’t read that!”

likes, reblogs, & comments are appreciated!

Like and reblog if you can relate

GN and Male Readers when they see she/her pronouns in the middle of an unspecified Reader story:

This

Kurt Kunkle is gay pass it on

Yall my internet hasnt been working for over thirteen hours now and im so mad cus its apparently an issue i have to go to the apple store for, like bro how does this happen.

why are steddie and harringrove fans fighting. Steve has two hands

Yall i genuinely have so much appreciation for male reader fanfic writers, they manage to make the masc population feel so loved. Thank you 🫶🏽

I have bad taste.