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carboncopy90 · 7 months ago

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Stay Ahead of the Trend: Carbon Copy's Malayalam Printed T-shirts Take Center Stage

The world of t-shirts is constantly evolving, with new trends and styles emerging every season. As a fashion enthusiast, it's essential to stay ahead of the curve and know what's hot and what's not.

Explore the latest t-shirt trends that are making waves in the fashion industry, and how Carbon Copy Malayalam printed t-shirts are leading the way.

Get Ready to Make a Statement! Shop Our Latest Malayalam Printed T-shirts Now!

From Traditional to Trendy: Carbon Copy's Malayalam Printed T-shirts Lead the Way

1. Sustainable Fashion

With the growing awareness of climate change and environmental issues, sustainable fashion has become a major trend in the industry. Consumers are now looking for clothing that is not only stylish but also eco-friendly. These cotton t-shirts not only reduce waste but also promote fair trade practices.

2. Distressed Details

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3. Oversized Fits

Oversized fits have been making waves in the fashion world, and it's not just about comfort. Oversized tees can add a cool, relaxed vibe to any outfit, making them perfect for streetwear enthusiasts. Carbon Copy Malayalam printed t-shirts with oversized fits can be dressed up or down, making them a versatile addition to any wardrobe.

4. Statement Sleeves

Statement sleeves are all about making a statement. Our statement sleeves add a touch of drama to any outfit. Our Carbon Copy Malayalam printed t-shirts with statement sleeves can elevate your look from basic to bold.

5. Minimalist Chic

Minimalist chic is all about simplicity and elegance. It's about pairing clean lines with bold graphics or bold colors. Our Carbon Copy Malayalam printed t-shirts with minimalist designs can be dressed up or down, making them perfect for both casual and formal occasions.

How Carbon Copy Malayalam Printed T-shirts are Leading the Way?

At Carbon Copy, we are committed to creating high-quality, unique, and stylish Malayalam printed t-shirts and Automotive t-shirts that reflect our brand's values of sustainability, comfort, and cultural significance. Here are some reasons why our t-shirts are leading the way:

Unique Designs: Our Carbon Copy Malayalam printed t-shirts feature unique designs that reflect the rich cultural heritage of Kerala. From traditional Kerala patterns to modern designs inspired by Malayalam literature, these tees offer a unique touch to any outfit.

Eco-Friendliness: Many of our Carbon Copy Malayalam printed t-shirts are made from sustainable materials, making them a great choice for those who care about the environment.

Comfort: Our Carbon Copy Malayalam printed t-shirts are often made from comfortable fabrics like cotton or bamboo, making them perfect for everyday wear.

Cultural Significance: Our Carbon Copy Malayalam printed t-shirts serve as a symbol of cultural identity and pride, making them a great way to showcase one's heritage.

The Future of Fashion: Carbon Copy's Unique Malayalam Printed T-shirts

In conclusion, the world of t-shirt trends is constantly evolving, and it is essential to stay ahead of the curve. From sustainable fashion to statement sleeves, many trends are shaping the fashion industry today.

At Carbon Copy, we are proud to be leading the way in these trends with our unique and stylish Malayalam printed t-shirts. Whether you are looking for a casual day out or a night out with friends, our t-shirts have got you covered.

So go ahead and join the trend – after all, it's all about embracing your individuality and expressing your unique style!

Stay Ahead of the Trend: Carbon Copy's Malayalam Printed T-shirts Take Center Stage

The world of t-shirts is constantly evolving, with new trends and styles emerging every season. As a fashion enthusiast, it's essential to stay ahead of the curve and know what's hot and what's not.

Explore the latest t-shirt trends that are making waves in the fashion industry, and how Carbon Copy Malayalam printed t-shirts are leading the way.

Get Ready to Make a Statement! Shop Our Latest Malayalam Printed T-shirts Now!

From Traditional to Trendy: Carbon Copy's Malayalam Printed T-shirts Lead the Way

1. Sustainable Fashion

2. Distressed Details

3. Oversized Fits

4. Statement Sleeves

5. Minimalist Chic

How Carbon Copy Malayalam Printed T-shirts are Leading the Way?

Eco-Friendliness: Many of our Carbon Copy Malayalam printed t-shirts are made from sustainable materials, making them a great choice for those who care about the environment.

Comfort: Our Carbon Copy Malayalam printed t-shirts are often made from comfortable fabrics like cotton or bamboo, making them perfect for everyday wear.

Cultural Significance: Our Carbon Copy Malayalam printed t-shirts serve as a symbol of cultural identity and pride, making them a great way to showcase one's heritage.

The Future of Fashion: Carbon Copy's Unique Malayalam Printed T-shirts

So go ahead and join the trend – after all, it's all about embracing your individuality and expressing your unique style!

#Buy Malayalam printed t-shirts online #Automotive t-shirts #Malayalam text t-shirts for men #Kerala traditional print t-shirts for women #Malayalam printed t-shirts

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lobakartdesign · 2 years ago

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(via T-shirt graphique « Conduite rapide au Japon » par lobak)

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swimmingruinsdream · 2 years ago

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I Can't I Have Plans In The Garage

This cool t-shirt is perfect for any dad who loves spending time in the garage tinkering with cars! Featuring the phrase "I Can't, I Have Plans In The Garage", this shirt is a great gift for Father's Day or any occasion.

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wallartdesignergift · 2 years ago

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(via T-shirt classique « VIEILLIR NE SIGNIFIE PAS SE PASSER DE STYLE T-SHIRT » par Digital-for-you)

#findyourthing #redbubble #GETTING OLDER DOESN'T MEAN GOIN OUT OF STYLE T-SHIRT #VIEILLIR NE SIGNIFIE PAS SE PASSER DE STYLE T-SHIRT #rare limited edition limited edition love care inspiration #hard to find im good im very good im hard to conquer #car enthusiast car classic classic car car show muscle car vintage car racing car guys automotive cars automatic transmission

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lesbianrobin · 1 month ago

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upcoming fic preview: "Buck Home For Christmas"

a hallmark-style christmas story about love, family, and firemen.

A dark red tow truck with a wreath attached to the grille approaches.

When it comes to a stop by the Jeep, Buck reads Diaz Automotive on the door before it opens. He sees a shiny black work boot and swears he can taste peppermint in the air.

Diaz jumps down from his truck with an easy grin.

“Howdy, neighbor,” he says.

He’s about Buck’s age, with big brown eyes and tanned skin. His dark hair is windswept and his cheeks are flushed, like he drove all the way here with his windows down. His deep green sweater is—is stupidly tight, actually, the guy must work out, like, a lot. His teeth are weirdly beautiful. His canines are especially prominent when he smiles.

“Hi,” Buck says.

Diaz arches an eyebrow. “You Evan?”

“Buck,” he corrects. “People who know me call me Buck.”

“Buck, then. I’m Eddie.” He holds a hand out. When Buck grasps it, he realizes that Eddie’s hands are bigger than his.

His jaw aches. He should probably stop clenching it.

“Thanks for coming out, Eddie,” he forces himself to say as they shake hands.

“Pop the hood for me?”

“Huh?”

Eddie’s still holding his hand as he glances at the Jeep over Buck’s shoulder.

“Oh!” Buck lets go and scrambles to the hood. He lifts it as Eddie approaches. Eddie leans casually over the open engine, whips his sweater off to reveal a white t-shirt, and—okay, yeah, that’s a whiff of cinnamon and pine. That’s fine.

“I think it’s a coolant leak,” Buck says, taking a step back.

“Well, no,” Eddie immediately replies, tying his sweater around his waist, biceps bulging.

“No?”

Eddie points to… something. Look, Buck wants to know about cars, they're just so boring, and everything under the hood just kinda looks the same to him. It drives Tommy nuts.

Eddie pulls out what Buck knows is the dipstick, and asks, “When was the last time you changed your oil?”

“Uh.”

Eddie does not seem impressed with him.

“In my defense,” Buck starts, and Eddie says, “The oil is the lifeblood of the car,” and Buck finishes, “My boyfriend was supposed to change it last.”

Eddie blinks. He cocks his head, a vaguely amused look on his face. “Boyfriend?”

“Y—yeah. Yeah, he’s a big guy—uh, car, big car guy.”

“Well,” Eddie says, replacing the dipstick and leaning further over the engine, forcing Buck to notice his irritatingly impressive ass, “Not big enough.”

“What?”

“He’s killed your engine, bud,” Eddie says, “I’m gonna need to check back at the shop, but I think he used the wrong oil. That’s why it overheated.”

#em talks #911 #lr.writing

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drakoneve · 1 year ago

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Destined Meetings

request: Hey, do you think you could write something where the reader is related to tig somehow, and they're in charming for work or college and they start a relationship with juice? Cute and a little angsty at first?

pairing: Juice Ortiz x Trager!Reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: club crimes, reader's mom isn't the best + suggested childhood trauma, alcohol and drug (maryj) use

a/n: there will be another part for sure, but i might make this a bit of a mini-series, lmk what you think. happy reading!

Tig hardly ever talked about it, but he'd been married once. He would rather die than ever admit he loved anyone but Dawn and Fawn, but he loved her. And you, his sweet, sweet Y/n.

His heart clenched at the thought of you. You were only two years old at the time of the accident. The day your mother decided she had had enough of Tig and the life he came with and that she needed to run.

It was that day, when your mother pulled out of Charming and never looked back. She only made it two towns over before she took a reckless turn right off an overpass into oncoming traffic.

Tig could remember the look on Unser's face as he approached the older man in the TM parking lot like yesterday, and how he wished he could go back and convince your mom not to go. Or to leave you, at least.

Unser had just began working with the club back then, and this case in particular had always stuck with him. A woman trying to escape her outlaw husband with their baby daughter who ends up getting into a horrific accident that ends up killing them both? One of the saddest stories Unser had ever heard.

Except for the fact none of it was true.

Because there you stood, alive and well, right in front of the Chief's desk.

"I know it sounds crazy," you shake your head, hopeful look on your face. "I wouldn't believe it either, actually. And I don't really have any proof other than my memories, but I'm sure it's him."

The aging polaroid in you had provided him of a much younger Tig and a woman he recognizes to be your mother back when she was pregnant with you.

"No, no," he waves your worries away. "I believe you. In fact, I remember your mother, vaguely, and you look a lot like her."

You grimace. "Yeah, I've been told a few times. So do you know where I can find Alexander?"

Chief Unser pulls a pen from his shirt pocket and begins writing on a slip of paper on his desk. "This is the address of the Teller-Morrow, the automotive shop your dad works at. I would take you there myself, but I'm swamped here."

"Oh, it's no issue," you shrug and take the slip of paper. "I can get there myself. Thank you for everything, though."

You turn and begin to leave when Unser calls for you to stop.

"I forgot to mention, your dad goes by 'Tig.'"

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Juice stretched out his arms and popped his neck while he wiped his hands with a rag. Two weeks of waiting for one part was finally over, and he could get this damn Taurus out of the shop. He tossed the rag into his toolbox when a sleek black car comes rumbling into the lot.

He leaves the garage to get a closer look and notices the car is actually a classic, a well taken care of (or well restored) '69 Chevy. While he admires the car he notices you, too.

Your hair is partly clipped back, with enough loose enough to frame your face in a casual look. You're pretty, and admittedly he'd be more distracted by you but Juice can tell by the look on your face you're nervous. Juice would know, it's a look he's had to learn to hide.

By sight and sound nothing seemed to be wrong with your car, and Juice can't help but wonder why you're here.

You shut the engine off and exit your vehicle, all the while silently composing yourself. Heart thudding in your chest, you wonder if you're doing the right thing.

Juice takes the moment you shut the door to approach further.

"Hello," he greets politely, friendly smile on his face. "I'm Juice, and I'll be taking care of you today. What seems to be the problem?"

"Oh, no," you shake your head and laugh nervously. "Nothing's wrong with her. I'm actually-"

You pause, close your eyes for a second and bite the inside of your bottom lip. Juice can't help but watch you fondly, finding you oddly adorable.

Finally you open your eyes and flash a bright, genuine smile.

Damn, I'm made, he thinks.

"This is gonna sound completely insane," you explain, nervously clasping your hands together. "But, um, I'm looking for Alexa- well, no, Tig, Tig Trager."

Juice raises his brows. "Tig? Uh, I don't know if now's the best time."

It's true, he's currently in Oakland with Jax and Chibs on quick business.

"Look, I know it's inconvenient and you don't know me," you plead. You're closer now and Juice can smell your sweet perfume and practically feel your hopefulness. "But until a couple months ago I had no idea my dad was even alive. And then I found out I was here for weeks before realizing he's here, too."

Your dad? There has to be a story there. Juice raises his hands to either side of your arms, holding you still in hopes to assure you.

"It's okay," he says sternly, but in an endearing way. "Tig's not here right now but he should be soon, so let's head on inside and you can tell me a little bit about you. Just to be sure, no offense."

You smile, relieved to be believed to some extent rather than none. "Thank you, Juice. Thank you."

Juice leads you into the Teller-Morrow through the garage entrance into the larger building. From what you could see on the outside you wouldn't have imagined such a spacious clubhouse inside.

Inside were several pool tables, a couch with mini pieces about, a bar with stools, and other tables each with their own set of chairs. Decorations littered the walls and floors and you laughed to yourself as you noted a nearly full ashtray on almost every surface and a wall completely dedicated to mugshots.

Juice leads you to the bar where he gestures for you to sit as he makes his way around. You slip onto a stool and watch patiently as Juice finds two glasses and turns to you.

"What's your preference?"

You shrug, "Whatever, I'm not partial. On the rocks, though."

He serves you and pours his own drink before setting the bottle down and leaning on the bar on his elbows in front of you.

"So tell me about you," Juice presses softly. He can tell by your fingers circling the rim of your glass that you're not excited for this conversation but he has no choice. "You said you've been here for a few weeks, where'd you live before?"

"Nevada, mostly," you tell him before sipping on your drink. "My mother moved us around a couple times and we lived in Colorado for a while before eventually settling in Sparks."

"Why'd you guys move around?"

You drain the rest of your drink quickly in hopes it'll support you through this conversation. Juice begins to refill your glass without being asked.

"I didn't know it then, but my mom was running from the Sons," you confess.

Juice's eyes widen slightly as he looked you over. What could you know about the club? They were notorious around Charming sure, but with their recent run ins with the ATF has the club struggling and making choices they wouldn't normally make.

You continue, "It wasn't until I graduated high school and I left that she told me my dad was actually alive. Then she told me about the Sons of Anarchy, and everything else I did on my own."

Juice nods, unsure of what to say. He nurses his drink for a moment before reaching for your hand.

"This life is complicated, but we're a family here."

The gesture, simple as it is, riles up all the pent up feelings you've mastered all your life comes rushing forward as tears brim your eyes.

"Family," you repeat and pull your hand from Juice to wipe your tears. "What a weird concept?"

The two of you talk well into the evening and you end up migrating to the couch with a bottle and a large bowl of buttery popcorn. Juice made good company. He's genuine, gunny, and from the way he talks you can tell the Sons are something special to him.

He tells you about himself in turn for the vulnerable information you've given him. You learn he was born and raised in New York before coming to Charming, and he has a little sister behind in the city. Juice tells you he works in the TM garage alongside what he does for the club.

"I'm not stupid," you tell him once you notice his hesitance. "It's not hard to find information on the club from the locals around here."

He chuckles softly, "Yeah, I'm sure. If you have any questions, you can ask me."

Before you can the rumbling of bikes coming into the TM parking lot distracts you. Instinctively you grabbed Juice's hand, but let go just as fast as you'd grabbed him. Luckily before he can say anything the door bursts open and income more Sons.

The first is a younger blond man with piercing blue eyes and you notice the President patch on his left. He greets Juice happily before his eyes look to you, and he looks confused but seemingly brushes it off and goes to the bar.

Your dad walks in near arm in arm with another handsome man with scarred cheeks, obviously older than he is in the polaroid you own, but otherwise he seems the same. Its as if he can feel your gaze as he turns to meet his blue eyes to your own.

You stand, trying to ignore the thumping of your heart in your chest. "Hi, Tig," you greet, silently cursing the waver in your voice. Immediately the polaroid is out of your back pocket and in your hand. "My name's Y/n, and my mom's Y/m/n."

He takes the polaroid from you without a word and holds it carefully in his hands. His friend has stepped away towards Juice, likely for questioning.

"I saw Unser earlier today," you continue on. "He told me that I have a grave here in Charming, so does mom. Funny, considering she always told me you were the dead one."

You take a shaky breath in, trying to keep from bursting into tears. "I just... I wanted you to know I'm not dead, very much alive. I don't, like, expect anything from you I just knew I had to say something."

Tig finally breaks away from the polaroid to meet your eyes again, and it makes you feel a bit better to see his blue eyes are as tear filled as your own.

He raises one hand to cup your cheek, thumb moving to wipe your tears. "Losing you was the worst pain of my life," he admits softly.

His words crumble your resolve, the walls you'd spent your adolescence building to protect yourself fell faster than they were constructed. You practically fall into his arms, and the two of you break down as you hold each other.

As you sob into Tig's chest he merely cradles you the way he wishes he'd been able to all these years. The way he deserved to have been there for you. He holds you tight against him like he's afraid you'll dissipate and it'll be decades before he sees you again.

"We're gonna be okay, baby," he tells you. "We're gonna be okay."

This time, he's not going to be letting you go so easy.

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seat-safety-switch · 7 months ago

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Words have their own power. When you go over to someone else's house and they have an oil painting of a queen getting beheaded, that's cool decor. If, on the other hand, they have a poster telling you not to bother the cook because it's Mama Bear's den, you're going to want to live, laugh, love yourself right out of that place before you get turned into a Pinterest post about how to make people soup.

When a phrase sticks itself into your head and burrows directly into the deepest parts of your basal ganglia, it has become part of you. Images, too, but nobody has ever constantly repeated a kitten they saw under their breath to themselves during a late night at the office.

The automotive industry is full of these little thinkin'-bombs: "installation is the reverse of removal," "driver returns on foot," "drops right in." Most of them are lies, bitterly repeated by yourself at 3 in the morning when the lofty promise of those words has come crashing down to earth. If we're being real with one another, though, basically everything anyone has ever said to you was a lie of some sort. Still, the kind of lies that your parents told you usually do not end in angrily banging a wrench against the bottom of an air-conditioning compressor bracket whose mounting hole should be two millimetres off on the other side. Just put a self-tapper in it, it'll probably hold tension.

What do I want you to do with this newfound fear of language? Certainly not burn down a library. Most of their books are stored up in the cloud now (glory be heaped upon the cloud,) where an infinite supply of words can be summoned against the unwary on demand. No, I want you to weaponize the words yourself. Go come up with some awful catchphrases they'll be putting on t-shirts in a hundred years from now. It's the only real chance any of us have at immortality, unless that people soup is real good.

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jaidens · 1 year ago

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He Got That Boyish Look That I Like In A Man

pairing [s] : daniel larusso x reader

warning [s] : nothing! | this really sucks 😭 I just wanted to release something cuz I've been lacking on yall

a/n [s] : requests are open! [ALSO! should I challenge things? like flufftober??]

Whenever your job offers you a raise to become an Automotive Director of Engineering for the dealership in Reseda, California you take it without warning. In an attempt to get away from slushy winters in the small state of Connecticut, you moved swiftly to a small apartment with lovely neighbors and a new life. You had been to California on some vacations with family, but living here had never crossed your mind.

You walk into your office that smells like fresh paint and cleaner, and set your books and purse down on the dark-oak table. The company had hired some individuals to work for you, which felt weird to say, as you used to be the same person. Your assistant walks in with a tap on your glass door, and she walks in. “Hey! I’m Shannon. Anything you need, I'll be across the hall. I've already started on the connections with Toyota and Nissan!”

You smile at her and shake her hand that she was holding out for you. “It’s nice to meet you. My name is Y/N L/N, but I assume you already know that!” You laugh and let go of her hand to hide any awkwardness and anxiety you had about being in such a high position.

“Okay well, I'll see you! And, someone has already set up a meeting with you!” Shannon says before walking away and shutting the door behind her.

You rub sweaty hands against your clothes and turn on your heels. The air-conditioning rumbles on and you wrap the small cardigan you had brought around you and begin staring at the paperwork that was placed in front of you. You start the work: scribbling works and many, many signatures with red pens and black pens. A knock is gentle against your door and you look up, and see Shannon and a very recognizable man standing there in a Navy suit and a smile on his face.

“This is Mr. Daniel Larusso. He owns Larusso auto parts and he said he wants to speak with you,” Shannon says, pushing her glasses up her nose and walking away.

The name sends a shiver down your spine as you hear it, and the face is suddenly very recognizable. The fateful summer vacation of 1986, fifteen-years old and young, and a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

You're sitting on the bench near the beach in a swimsuit and a big t-shirt, peeling through the boom. you had brought to your family vacation. Your family is on the beach setting up the tent and towels all across it to mark the place on the beach. The warm sun heats your skin up as you lay against the bench and continue flipping through your book that suddenly becomes boring.

A tan boy emerges from the water in orange trunks and black hair slicked back with salt water. An older and shorter man follows him up the coast and talks to him. You stare at him with your eyes following each of the tan’s movements. He notices your staring as he stares right back at you, eyes piercing into yours deliciously. His smile exposes his teeth and he knocks his head to the side and waves at you. The older man slaps the side of his head and scolds him.

You laugh at him before he tells the older man something then jogs over to you. His warm skin is a bronzy, and you swear there were twinkles of gold mixed in his skin shining against the light. “Hey, I’m Daniel. What are you reading?” The New Jersey accent rings out and you can't help but feel warmer.

“Oh some dumb romance. My name is Y/N, it's nice to meet you Daniel. Is that your Grandfather?” You cover your book up subconsciously to attempt to not get embarrassed, and point at the older man who seems weirdly angry next to the old car from the 40s.

Daniel shakes his head in response. “No, no. That’s Mr. Miyagi, he's my karate sensei. Is your book good?” He asks and you nod at his explanation, showing him you agreed.

“Yeah, my book is pretty good. You like karate? That's pretty awesome.” You tell Daniel and stare into his eyes. They're a soft, dark brown with a puppy-look inside of them. He looks your age, as he gets thrown a West Valley High soccer shirt that's bigger than him as he shrugs it on over his shoulders.

Daniel leaves with the older man after inviting you to the beach for a party held by the Football team and Cheer Team. You showed up in a baggy sweater and a pair of shorts. Daniel waved at you whenever he saw you, as he kicks around a soccer ball impressively on his two legs. You walk over to him and he laughs and kicks the ball over to you, and you catch it and throw it back to him with a shared laugh with him.

He sits down in the sand and you scoot closer to him. You're handed some hotdogs and sticks to cook over the fires made on the beach. You start one and hold a conversation about where you're from, why you were visiting, etc. The conversation was long, and filled with laughter and glances held longer than usual. Daniel handed you a drink and you declined, and he didn't drink as well.

You and Daniel just talk; it feels quite amazing. You haven't had a conversation like that in a long time, but everything falls out and you let your hand fall into his as you star-gaze further away from everyone else who was drunk and half-a drink away from throwing up on the beach. You almost find yourself staring at him more than the stars, admiring him underneath the full moon and stars. He looks beautiful both times: morning and night.

How are you supposed to leave Reseda and not think about Daniel when you leave back to Connecticut?

“I’m Y/N L/N, nice to see you again.”

#daniel larusso x reader #daniel larusso #karate kid fanfiction #karate kid 1984 #young daniel larusso x reader #daniel larusso fanfiction #daniel larusso imagine #karate kid daniel larusso #danny larusso #karate kid imagine #karate kid 1986 #karate kid 1989 #karate kid #daniel larusso x you #daniel larusso x y/n #daniel larusso oneshot #daniel larusso fluff #ralph macchio daniel larusso

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mushupork4u · 6 months ago

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SOA Truth and Drink

Morning Hangovers (Part 2)

(Excuse the shit writing/I made this in a rush)

•18+

•Sexual innuendo’s

•Mentions of Sex

•Weed/Alcohol

Bambi is a quiet bar hand at the club house, on a night where the boys aren’t around, the girls loosen up, drink and listen to music, thought after a night of Truth and Drink the next day the girls get a talking to as they get to rewatch their night via bar camera.

____________________________________________

Wherever she was, it was too bright, too loud, and the repetitive noise of her phones ringtone was too much. Finally groaning herself awake, she reached her hand into her purse and pulled the phone close, answering it and turning it on speakers as to not get it close to her sweat ridden face.

“Hello?” She coughed, her throat dryer than the Sahara and burning with a fresh acidic feel. The couch under her however was very wet with drool, the cold sensation sticking to her face.

The voice on the other end answered slowly, the groggy tone of Sugar somehow being recognized. “Thank god you picked up. I’m on my way.”

“Wait what?” Bambi sat up, and the crashing feeling of wanting to die hit her. Nauseous overwhelmed ever sense she had as her body slid down the couch cushions and sideways onto the floor.

Sugar whined over the whirling noise of wind, she was obviously on the highway right now. “I don’t know. NyQuill called everyone freaking out because for some reason Gemma called us all in for this afternoon.”

The silence was deafening as Bambi bit at her lips before sighing. “It wasn’t…like trashed or anything when we left right?”

“It was cleaner than before we picked up.” The blonde admitted. “I just hope it’s to load up some drinks. Don’t mean my liver doesn’t feel like it’s shutting down.”

“I hear ya sister.” Bambi groaned, a hand clamping down on her stomach as cramps racked up her ribs.

Pushing herself off the floor and finally wobbling up to stand. She looked down at her phone to see it was almost one in the afternoon.

“I’ll be there in about ten minutes, make yourself look presentable.” The phone crackled and the copperhead swallowed harshly.

“Okay.”

The pink jeep arrived quicker than ever, it seemed like seconds since Sugar called Bambi on the phone but it had been twenty minutes and still the girl was putting her socks and shoes on it the car while applying some light makeup to not look dead.

It didn’t help much, even after taking an ibuprofen, chugging a coffee and eating a bagel. The dead eyes look both of them carried was staying put.

At least they had on semi decent Jean shorts and some loose T-shirts that made them look slightly more presentable than usual.

Not that they gave a shit now anyway because they were currently sitting outside the club house and all the bikes were outside. Lined up neatly, and Tellers Automotive was eerily still, quiet even.

There was also no cars, meaning the bar hands from before were already long gone.

“Well shit.” Sugar hummed, another gulp of her iced coffee going down her throat. The sound made Bambi’s tapping nails going even harder against the plastic dash board.

Though they had to go in eventually and their figures were noticed as soon as they walked in.

NyQuill had ushered them over to the bar, most of the girls hiding behind it anyhow as most of the clubs guys were looking at them curiously. “What the hells going on?” Sugar asked Prana as Clay finally came out of the back room.

His figure came from the back room where the clubs table was, where all the decisions were made and all the murders were planned.

“What’s going on?” He echoed, a humorous glint was casted towards his wife, the women smoking a cigarette on one of the couches next to Tig. “Gem, what’s going on?”

“That’s a great question baby, maybe we should show em’?” Her voice echoed back, and a click sounded before Bambi pinpointed where it came from.

The table lined against the wall, right to her left where juice was sitting. His hands where healing a camera and the flash from it was pointed at a white sheet that was hung up on the long wall.

The video had started the plan and usually this is where the cast would be named but instead, it showed pictures of them, of the girls.

“Oh shit.” Mouse had grumbled, her head going down as her big eyes caught Opie from across the bar.

Bambi had stood in front of the shorter girl, trying to shield her away from the giant.

Throughout the beginning of the video, their faces of horror were short lived and instead, each time a ‘whoop’ or a ‘I want some of that’ was yelled out, they laughed. Because it’s all they could really do.

This club house was one built on strengths, so if Gemma thought the crow eaters were prissy bitches, they were out. And for gods sake, these guys had gotten head in full view in this very club house on these very couches, there was nothing to be shy about.

Eventually though the lewdness took up the screen, body shots between the girls passing and the dirty talk and questions they all asked and answered.

Bambi would’ve admitted her sins right then and there if she had any because the boldness she had from last night was straight up burning in her core and chest now.

Curiosity ate at her as she knew Juice was the one holding the camera and her head turned to find him still staring off at the white screen, though their eyes met briefly and she smiled before looking away.

If Bambi bothered to look another second, she’d seen the redness coating up his neck and ears.

She had gone to grab a Mountain Dew from the mini-fridge in the back when she heard her voice on the screen. Running to the double door, and making sure multiple eyes were on her, she belted out the drunkenly memorized words in her mind. “He’s got that rugged handsome thang going on, I dig it.”

“GO GET YER GIRL CHIBS—“ Tig had laughed and the Scotts-man put his head down, shaking it slightly as Rake welcomed her friend back with a pat on the back.

“He’s red.” Prana had whispered, and the copperhead looked over and threw a wink Chibs way.

It went in for a few minutes before the camera went out, and the girls faces were still burning hot as clubhouse was full of laughs.

However the girls had let out a few smiles themselves, the weight of the secrets being ripped out for them was not pleasant but at-least it was over with. “That actually wasn’t so bad.” NyQuill had exhaled almost immediately, a hand coming up to mess with one of her braids.

Prana however groaned and turned to look at the girl with a stupid glare. “Are you kidding me? That was so embarrassing. I’ll be surprised if I ever show up here for another shift again.” Mouse had nodded along with her before the two went outside, probably to smoke a cigarette or two.

As the group dispersed off a bit, Gemma walked up to the bar, a snarl like smile on her face. “You ladies feathers all perked up over here?”

“No ma’am.” Bambi smiled, she tried her hardest to not smack Rake as the girl had came up beside her.

“Depends.” The albino almost tutted. “Do you plan on putting us in the grill again?” Her snappy tone was playful and the older women had grinned happily. “At least one of you has a sense of humor.”

The group heard clicks as Gemma heels became more and more distant, her finding a seat on her husbands lap and staying there.

“What a bitch.” Rake grumbled as a beer hit her lips, taunting eyes glaring at the group.

Bambi looked over her shoulder at the albino, confusing burning on her face. “I though you liked her?”

“Hell nah.” Rake grimaced, her beer hitting the bar top hard. “It’s just better to not argue.” Her shoes squeaked as they walked away going to do something hopefully benefited to them working tomorrow night as there was a big bash being thrown to celebrate the deal between the Sons and Mayans charter.

With all the girls dispersed and doing different shit, NyQuill and her took care of serving drinks at the bar, Tig and Clay getting beers and shots constantly while it seemed Juice and Happy stayed at the other end of the bar.

Avoiding her.

“You got Chibs to blush girl. Not much makes his face go red other then blood.” Tig’s voice had sounded and Bambi had chuckled at his crude humor.

“That’s real nice commentary there, Tig.” Clay had muttered, his sunglasses being pushed to the top of his head. “You know if you just sit here, you’re not gunna bang either of them any time soon?”

“Jesus Clay.” Her eyes shut, forehead coming to rest on her arms as she leaned half her weight on the counter.

“It’s true.” Tig stated, before his shot was taken out of his hand and instead swallowed by the copperhead. “Damn girl.”

“There’s gunna be Mayans all up in here tomorrow night, right?” She asked, her brown eyes barely leveling Tig’s new shot before it was being pushing into his hands.

The president had just leaned back before answering. “Just a bunch of tanned men in leather running around, why?”

His answer made her eyes gleam something dangerous, before the smile she had let her fangs show. “Because then I’ll be occupied and won’t have to think of anything.”

Although the only thing she wanted to do was stop thinking about fucking them senseless, she couldn’t stop her eyes from glaring over at Juice, Happy and Chibs, who had kept their distance from her.

If she was lucky, they wouldn’t be able to avoid her tomorrow.

#i need it #sons of anarchy #oneshot #mayans mc #jax teller #ezekiel reyes #angel reyes #mayans x reader #soa x reader

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frazzledsoul · 18 days ago

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As a former Wal-Mart employee myself (in between more permanent jobs) I just have to point out here that Jess is allowed to shop from a big box store he used to work at without actually working there. He also is allowed to go inside the diner without actually working there, as we saw in AYITL.

I don't think Jess rhapsodized about his time there or anything, but he's likely spent plenty of time over the years working at "jobs he doesn't want" and this was one of them. The pay seemed decent at the time period (the reason he was there), they gave him lots of hours, his boss liked him, he didn't have to deal with customers. I don't think he was traumatized or exploited. It's a gig one takes to pay the bills, which is an adult fact of life. Probably a meh experience overall, as it is for most of us.

Furthermore, the idea that Luke, Lorelai, and the rest of Stars Hollow never have to shop at a big box store for essentials is laughably naive and more than a little elitist. The thing about "walkable communities" is that you often can't get everything you need there and have to go outside the town limits to get the basics to survive. The other thing about these type of communities is that they often aren't enough to support the entire community. Jess worked at a big box store outside of town and Dean was working construction because they could not be paid enough by the town's businesses to get what they needed. Rory, for the most part, does not have to support herself, but not everyone is that lucky.

Luke is shown shopping at a supermarket on the outskirts of town, at Target, and at the mall in season 7. Liz depends on him and he has partial custody of a teenage girl, so yes ... he is familiar with big box stores. That's often a reality of life while living in the suburbs or close to them. ASP's version of the world may be more of a fantasy, but in reality the more prosiac aspects of life force you to do stuff you don't want to do.

(I'll also point out here that S7 openly acknowledges that Rory's chosen career path is unstable and poorly paid, while the OS ignores that issue completely and AYIYL shrugs it off by having the narrative assume she shouldn't have to work so ultimately....ASP probably feeds into this fantasy a bit too much at the end).

In conclusion! The show's characters probably do have to go to Wal Mart at least occasionally. If Jess has a family as of 2024 he's probably made quite a few trips there (Philadelphia has five of them, BTW). If the next Gilmore Girls-themed commercial is Jess and Dean in tight T-shirts hawking automotive supplies and fulfilling their DILF potential, I will not be complaining.

#jess mariano #luke danes #gilmore girls #wal mart

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