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ginnsbaker · 7 months ago

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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (8/?)

Part summary: Leigh heads off to Palm Springs with Danny, while you grapple with what to do about your feelings for her.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader, temporary Leigh x Danny | Word count for this part: 5.000+ | Warnings : Slight angst | Author's Note: No, I did not forget about Danny still not being honest with Leigh and R not tattling on Danny. Just let these loose ends dangle for a while. Anyway, enjoy! :)

The morning after you gave Leigh a puppy for her birthday, your phone is flooded with texts from her, filled with questions ranging from vaccine schedules to the best chew toys. She shares a story about how Rogue, their previous dog, had always been Matt’s, and how she often felt left out of his care. Now, with Logan, she feels a full sense of ownership and is eager to get everything right.

You still flinch slightly whenever she mentions her late husband. It’s as if she forgets that you and Matt had something significant too, as if you weren't once the secret he kept close. Sometimes, you wish you could just erase his presence, simplify everything about your relationship with Leigh.

But you recognize that it’s selfish to wish him away, because Matt was a significant part of Leigh’s life, a major influence on who she has become. And who she is today is a lovely person—someone you've come to admire very deeply.

[6:20 AM] Leigh: Logan’s an angel, slept through the night.

[6:35 AM] Leigh: So, house training... how do I make sure Logan doesn’t turn my bed into his personal bathroom like he did five seconds ago?

You grimace at the message, picturing the hassle of laundering the sheets and possibly needing to call a cleaning service for the mattress.

[6:54 AM] Leigh: And shots? Rogue was all up to date because Matt was on it, but I’m clueless. Where do I start?

As you work your espresso machine, a grin spreads across your face, the kind that makes you feel like a complete fool but in the best possible way.

[6:56 AM] You: Good morning! You’re lucky I don’t bill for text consultations 😆

You typically charge $18 for a twenty-minute chat with a client.

[6:58 AM] Leigh: Oh. How much do I owe you? I want to pay.

Your smile falters a little at her missing your joke.

[6:58 AM] You: I was just kidding. Your texts are more than welcome, Leigh.

Feeling bold, you follow that up with something you've been wanting to make clear since last night.

[6:59 AM] You: This is what friends are for, right?

Waiting for Leigh’s reply feels like an eternity, and you're about to send another text to walk back your hint at friendship when your phone vibrates.

[7:00 AM] Leigh: I’d feel better paying. Can I drop by the clinic later?

Reading her message, you're hit with a rush—excited at the thought of seeing her, yet downhearted she's talking about paying, as if that's what's between you. But then, those little typing dots appear. You're practically holding your breath.

[7:00 AM] Leigh: We’re friends, which is why I’m paying.

It's a good thing you don't have a roommate, or else you'd never get away with grinning like an idiot at your phone. It's a bit ridiculous, you think, how high school this all feels—waiting for a glimpse, a moment, anything.

[7:01 AM] You: Absolutely, come by anytime. Looking forward to it 🙂

You hit send and lean back, trying to act like you didn't just have a mini celebration over a text.

And then, spurred by Leigh texting you first thing in the morning, you decide to add her on your social media accounts. You spend an extra fifteen minutes getting ready that morning, simply because you lingered longer in the shower, listening to songs that remind you of Leigh and how this crush is dangerously close to becoming something uncontainable.

[10:13 AM] Notification: Leigh accepted your friend request.

As it turns out, Leigh is a serial texter.

It’s odd, really. For someone who might come across as reclusive and somewhat untouchable, she is surprisingly talkative over text. The messages start coming in more frequently after this morning's exchange, just moments after you've finally left home to drive to your clinic. What's even more interesting is that this time, they're not about Logan.

And they’re all unusually random and unrelated to one another: memes that make you laugh out loud, articles on topics ranging from the philosophical implications of artificial intelligence to the best way to juicing recipes. You find yourself waiting for these messages, eager to see what tangent Leigh's mind has wandered off to now. You get into it, dissecting the articles she sends over with the seriousness of a scholar. You type back your thoughts, trying to sound as insightful as possible, maybe even a bit witty, hoping to impress her. You imagine this might be her way of initiating deeper, intellectual conversations between you two.

So, when you send back a paragraph or two analyzing the latest article she's shared, maybe touching on its impacts on modern society or offering a counterpoint to the author's thesis, Leigh's responses aren’t what you expect. Instead of engaging with the discussion, she sends a simple thumbs-up emoji or, even more baffling, a random factoid about her day, like her opinion on the Kani salad from a sushi bar near the Beautiful Beast gym.

[12:15 PM] Leigh: [sent a photo] Just some store-bought crab sticks and diluted mayo. Don’t try it. Their saké though is 👌👌👌

You wonder why she’s having Japanese rice wine this early in the day.

[12:22 PM] You: Thanks for the heads up. I know a place for authentic Japanese food. You want to check it out with me some time?

Your text remains unseen for the rest of the afternoon.

You find yourself staring intently at the wall clock in your clinic, keenly aware of each minute slipping by, and with it, the dwindling chance of Leigh arriving before the doors lock for the day. As it nears 8 in the evening, Suzie is already wrapped up in her end-of-day tasks across the lobby. Leaning your cheek on your palm, you watch blankly as she meticulously arranges her desk, perfectly aligning each item, then moves on to gently pull the blinds closed on each window.

Suzie’s not blind. She throws you these knowing glances every time you let out one of your heavy sighs. Finally, after you've probably sighed loud enough to be heard next door, she stops what she's doing and plants herself in front of you.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

You try to look puzzled. “Nothing. Why?”

Suzie rolls her eyes. “Please, you’ve been mooning over that clock and sighing like you’re carrying the world on your shoulders. What’s up?”

You crack a smile, partly at her description, partly from being caught moping like a lovesick teenager. “It’s just… I thought maybe Leigh would come by. She said she would,” you say, wincing at yourself when the last part comes out a bit whiny.

Without missing a beat, Suzie pivots from her closing duties and makes her way over to you.

She’s not delicate with you this time. “You’re doing that thing again. Waiting around for something that’s probably not gonna happen. It’s not doing you any good.”

You know she's hitting the nail on the head, but it's tough to swallow.

Suzie continues, “You're young, you're attractive, and it's honestly weird that you're pining over your ex's ex. At first, I thought it was kind of adorable, in a bizarre, romantic-comedy kind of way. But now, it's like you're always hung up and disappointed.”

“Thanks for saying I’m young when I’m five years older than you,” you say with a sheepish smile, hiding your disappointment that she isn’t saying the things you want to hear, such as the possibility that Leigh just got busy.

Suzie shakes her head in disapproval. She's fed up, and her next words aren't going to be sugar-coated. “Snap out of it!” she barks, the command hitting you like a cold splash of water, and you jerk back in your chair, wide-eyed. Seeing you shrink back, quivering, she softens a bit and shifts back to the harmless receptionist you’re used to.

“Look at me, Y/N,” Suzie says, ensuring she has your full attention. You manage to meet her gaze, even though your eyelids feel heavy. “It's not fair to Leigh, either. You're giving meaning to everything she does—or doesn't do. It's putting her in an impossible situation. And honestly, it's not fair to you. You're missing out on your own life, waiting for someone who... well, who might never show up the way you want her to.”

Suzie knows she’s being tough, but sometimes love means being the friend who won’t let you settle for anything less than you deserve.

“I hear you, okay? It’s just… it’s the way I’m wired. I latch onto a person like a leech, refusing to let go until I see it through,” you mutter, shielding your face with your hands, a bit ashamed to even say it out loud. You get so tunnel-visioned, missing out on maybe better things and experiences because you're stuck on one track. You fall hard for your choices, never by chance.

“Good. You know what’s wrong with you,” Suzie says softly.

You let out a weak chuckle, the sound tinged with a bit of self-mockery. You're half-hidden behind your hands, peeking out at Suzie as if she's got all the answers. Suzie pries your fingers away from your face and then pinches your cheek so hard, you start to whine a bit.

“Ow! What was that for?” you protest, rubbing your assaulted cheek.

“That's for being a pathetic little bitch.”

“Excuse me, I'm still the one signing your paychecks,” you shoot back, trying to sound offended but it’s hard to keep a straight face.

“Sure thing, boss,” she laughs, and you join in.

“Okay, so what do you suggest I do then?” you ask as the last of your chuckles die down.

“Go on a date,” comes her swift response. “All that stuff they say about love finding you when you're not looking? Biggest lie ever.”

You look at her curiously, assessing her physical features. “W-With you?”

“Dude, no! Not with me!” Suzie exclaims, laughing nervously. “I mean, sure, I'd take you out if you weren't my boss, but I don't see that happening anytime soon unless you fire me.”

“Got it, got it,” you say, still chuckling. Suzie realizes too late that you were just teasing her and huffs. “Not with you. But seriously, go on a date? Just like that?”

“Yeah. Just meet someone.”

“You make it sound like it’s easy.”

“Because it is,” she says with a shrug. “Here. Give me your phone.”

Leigh doesn’t know what to do with the fact that you may or may not have feelings for her.

So, she does what she does best: Pretend.

Leigh pretends you’re not EspressoEyes. In her mind, it could just be a coincidence, and you might not be the person who wrote to her advice column. Without any concrete evidence, she holds onto this notion, using it as a shield to fend off the uncertainties and doubts that would follow if she believed otherwise.

Leigh pretends because she needs your help to figure out how to care for Logan. Because maybe she wants to be friends. When you join her for a run, you don’t press for conversation, a rare companion who's not afraid of silence. Having you around feels like having Matt around, in a way that she's reminded of him when you talk about the same things you like, the same books you've read, and the same music you listen to.

Leigh pretends it doesn’t bother her in case you are EspressoEyes. She’s no stranger to turning heads as she walks down the street, accustomed to the attention. There's a certain power in being desired, and Leigh revels in it. But the idea of you liking her doesn't quite make sense to her; it's like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. It’s not because you’re a woman—she’s been with women before. What Leigh can't wrap her head around is that you, of all people, could actually be into her. After all, she hasn’t exactly been her most charming self since you two met. Even her best friend is keeping a cautious distance. She’s been wearing down the people closest to her, those who are supposed to like her the most.

And this bewilderment doesn't sit well with Leigh. She is someone who thrives on understanding, on knowing where she stands with people and why. So, when pretending isn’t enough, she does what she does second-best: Avoid.

She must have been waiting in her car outside your clinic for the better part of the evening, debating with herself about what to do next. She's parked just out of view, positioned so she can see the clinic entrance without being too conspicuous. She hasn't eaten dinner yet, her stomach growling, but she remains glued to her spot across from where she knows you're waiting for her.

Ever since you subtly asked her out through text, she’s been on edge, second-guessing her actions (texting and sharing posts on the internet with you all morning, what was she thinking?) and wondering what they might have meant to you. Leigh didn’t mean to leave you hanging—she did come to your clinic, sort of. She remembers typing out a response to you, something witty and non-committal, but her finger hovered over the ‘send’ button before pulling back. It felt like too much, too soon. She needed time to think, to figure out why the idea of checking out authentic Japanese food with you left her feeling so conflicted inside.

Leigh's guilt gnaws at her as she sits there, wrestling with how to extricate herself without causing further confusion—or worse, hurt. Eventually, it all comes to a head. She finally gives in, typing out a message to you on her phone with a shaky urgency.

[7:53 PM] Leigh: I'm so sorry, something came up. I can't make it to the clinic after all.

Your reply comes quickly, much to her astonishment, especially since she hadn't opened your message all afternoon.

[7:54 PM] You: It's fine, don't worry about it. I can have Logan's supplies delivered to your place if that works better for you.

Reading your text, Leigh bites her lip, another surge of guilt washing over her. Your kindness, your willingness to accommodate her, only complicates this predicament further.

[7:54 PM] Leigh: Yes, that would be great, thank you.

[7:54 PM] Leigh: How much do I owe you?

As she starts nibbling at her cuticle, Leigh is eager to resolve at least the financial aspect of her obligation. Though she knows she owes you so much more than just Logan’s supplies.

[7:56 PM] You: Like I said, it's on the house. But just this time ☺️

It’s still too generous. But Leigh knows better than to argue further, concerned that insisting might hurt your feelings.

[7:56 PM] Leigh: Thank you. I won’t forget this.

[7:57 PM] You: 😊😊😊

Leigh sighs, remembering her promise that you could visit Logan anytime. She hopes you won’t take her up on that offer too soon, at least not until she has a chance to sort herself out.

Danny isn’t too bad once you get to know him. That's what Leigh learns after more than two months of dating him.

Initially, Leigh wasn't sure what to make of Danny. Their shared wit and sarcasm often put them at odds, like two alphas vying for the upper hand, each one not willing to back down, always aiming for the last word. Yet, in their calmer moments, when the competitive edge fades and they're just enjoying each other's company, Leigh finds something unexpectedly comforting about being with him. He has this confidence about himself that Matt never had, knowing exactly what he wants—and that's her. His straightforward approach makes everything about being with him feel predictable. And lately, she's starting to see predictability as a good thing, a sign of stability. This is a welcome change from the uncertainty that often left her anxious about the future. Plus, all these traits spill over into the bedroom, making the sex between them feel effortless and satisfying in a way she’s never experienced before.

Despite all this, there are days when Leigh finds herself merely tolerating Danny's affections. A part of her remains tightly locked, still bruised from losing Matt, and she's not sure if those doors should—or even can—open again. To compensate, she often says yes when she can, whenever her mood permits her to be giving and amenable.

And it is exactly why she says yes when Danny asks her to go to Palm Springs with him this weekend.

The getaway feels like an extended lazy morning where the concept of time blurs into insignificance. They drift from one hotel restaurant to another, luxuriating in the art of doing absolutely nothing. This routine isn't new to them; it’s the same one they slip into whether they’re at Danny’s apartment or Leigh’s place—only now, the scenery is different, and the sheets they tangle in are expensively soft, boasting a thread count far beyond anything either of them owns at home.

They're lounging by the pool, sipping Margaritas—Leigh with a book in hand and Danny absorbed in his phone—when your name comes up in conversation.

“So, how are things between you and Y/N?” Danny asks, not looking up from his phone.

Leigh stiffens slightly. She carefully moderates her tone, her face schooled into an expression of indifference as she marks her page and looks over at him. “What about me and Y/N?”

“I don't know... are you guys friends now?”

If Leigh weren’t so preoccupied with her own personal concerns about you, she might have recognized the underlying worry his question poses. What he's actually trying to figure out is whether you've come clean to Leigh about his role in Matt’s secret affair with you.

“Yeah, I guess we are,” she says. To say otherwise would be a lie, because you’ve been nothing but good to her. Danny seems satisfied with this answer, nodding before returning his attention to his phone.

“Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering,” he mumbles. He's back to mindless scrolling, but Leigh can sense the tension from two feet away.

“No, tell me,” Leigh insists, placing her book on the side table between them with a definitive thud. Danny mirrors her actions, setting his phone face down and turning to her with a seriousness that clashes with their otherwise relaxed afternoon.

“I just don't get why you'd be friends with Matt's mistress,” he blurts out suddenly.

Leigh is taken aback. They've never fully discussed what transpired between you and Matt, so she hadn't realized he was paying such close attention to her interactions with you. Believing that he wasn't privy to all the details, she quickly jumps to your defense.

“Y/N didn’t even know Matt was married to me,” she explains, trying to clarify the misunderstanding and protect your integrity.

“Yeah? And you just took her word for it?” Danny doesn’t bother to hide his skepticism, and it irks Leigh more than usual. She doesn't understand why every conversation with Danny has to turn into a challenge or an argument.

“There’s no evidence to suggest otherwise,” Leigh replies, her voice tightening as she struggles to keep her frustration in check. “I mean, I even went through your phone to see what Matt had been saying to you, and there was nothing there indicating that Y/N knew he was married.”

Danny feels a lump form in his throat. Fortunately for him, Matt hadn't mentioned anything in their texts about Danny being Nick either. He has been debating whether to disclose his role in everything to Leigh. But things between them have gotten serious, and Danny's not so sure he should come clean. Part of him wants to delay—perhaps until they are married with kids, when he's more certain that Leigh won't leave him over a past mistake.

“Look, I'm not saying don’t trust her, but... she used to be in love with Matt, right? You don't think there's a chance she resents you even a little?”

Leigh stops for a second, Danny's words prompting her to consider aspects she hadn't really thought about before. Wrapped up in her own insecurities, jealousy, and pain when she discovered the truth about you, she had never stopped to consider your perspective—how you might have felt learning that the man you had feelings for was married. Did you feel just as fooled and stung as she did? The thought bounces around her head for a moment. From what she can recall, nothing in your behavior has ever suggested that you're a bitter ex. But then, what if you're just exceptionally good at masking your feelings?

Do you really like her, or is it all an act—a scheme?

But then, she remembers the night you gave her Logan, how your smile was nothing but warm, your eyes bright with something that, looking back, Leigh realizes might have been admiration. Not even Danny looks at her like that, whose gaze is always bridling yearning and a desire to possess. Leigh shakes her head, almost laughing at the thought of Danny being right about you.

“Danny, honestly,” Leigh finally says, trying to put an end to the discussion, “if what you're saying is true, I can handle it myself.” It seems the quickest way to close this topic, knowing that debating it could easily consume their entire afternoon and completely derail the purpose of their vacation.

“But doesn't it hurt, having her around? Like a reminder that Matt went for someone else?” He's playing on a different fear now, not questioning your integrity, but poking at the scars Leigh's tried so hard to heal.

Leigh wants to admit the pain never went away. She’s merely learned to co-exist with it. It's like the weather for her: on some days, her mind is a landscape of clear skies, but when the storm hits, it's relentless. For now, she chooses to keep this pain private, unwilling to give anyone the leverage to use it against her or even attempt to fix her. It's her burden to bear, and hers alone.

“No,” Leigh answers, reaching for her book again. “I don’t see it that way anymore.”

Leigh ends her nearly year-long social media hiatus by posting a series of photos from her Palm Springs vacation with Danny. Sharing such personal moments publicly is uncharacteristic for her, especially given her minimal online presence over the past months. Maybe it felt like sending a message to everyone that she’s doing okay. That they can go back to seeing her as just Leigh again—a single, actively dating woman in her early thirties—not as the young widow she was in her late twenties.

Danny's friends are the first to swarm the comments. They tag Danny, peppering the feed with teasing remarks, their comments ranging from jokes about the desert heat to compliments on the couple's sun-drenched physique. It's all typical, light-hearted friend banter, until one comment sharply disrupts the mood:

“Yo, isn't that your brother's wife?”

Leigh deletes the comment within seconds of seeing it.

A few hours later, you ‘like’ her post. Leigh's eyes fix unblinkingly on the notification. She's been idly wondering if you'd seen the post, and now, you’ve confirmed it yourself. But what does that ‘like’ mean?

Is it a nod of approval, a silent indication that you're happy for her? Regardless of what it means, Leigh discovers she was sending another message—one that’s exclusively for you. It tells you that whether you're EspressoEyes, whether you harbor any feelings for her or not, it no longer matters.

She's with Danny now.

Returning from Palm Springs, Leigh feels different—like she’s turned a corner or something. She feels refreshed, and she wants to take on something, such as Drew’s grievances about her advice column. She picks one to start with, something about anniversary ideas, and she's got the perfect story for this.

It was one of those anniversaries with Matt, the kind that stands out from the rest of his surprises because it's so quintessentially him—albeit a little nerdy. He took her away from the city's glare to a secluded spot where the sky was a blanket of stars, untainted by artificial light. After laying out a rug for them to both settle on, he began the painstaking process of setting up a rather complex telescope. It took him nearly an hour, but the wait just made the moment even more special. With the telescope finally ready, Matt pulled out this old, crinkly constellation map and started hunting for one specific star. It was one of the last times Leigh remembered them being truly happy—deeply in love, free from the shadows of Matt’s depression, Leigh’s instinct to fix things, and the small lies that slowly eroded their relationship.

When he finally located it, he excitedly guided her to peer through the telescope. There it is—a tiny speck of light, but it's theirs. Matt turned to her with a bashful smile and revealed that he had 'bought' that star for her.

Leigh shares this story with her reader, emphasizing that it's about understanding what truly moves your partner. For her, it was that star—simple, unexpected, and insanely romantic. She tells her reader to find that one-of-a-kind thing, that personal touch that says “I love you” in a way that can only come from them. Just like Matt did with a star and a starry night.

It's only after she closes her laptop that Leigh realizes tears have been streaming down her face.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

It takes a moment to recognize who you've just bumped into. This encounter isn't as jarring as the last; it’s merely a brush of shoulders as you both maneuver to avoid incoming traffic. That ‘incoming traffic’ turns out to be none other than Leigh Shaw.

She's beaming up at you, and it looks genuine despite the sparse interactions since she last canceled on you. You’re still catching your breath, your heart racing from the speed of your run and something else entirely.

“At least I didn’t make you crash on the pavement this time. I'd say that’s significant progress,” you quip, drawing a soft laugh from Leigh. Last week, you made the firm decision to compartmentalize your feelings for Leigh, resolving to see her strictly as a friend. Yet, when faced with reality, such resolutions seem trivial, particularly when that reality includes Leigh smiling at you with her effortlessly charming grin—a smile that, despite your best efforts, still sends a familiar flutter through your stomach and makes your knees feel like they're made of something much less solid than bone.

“Speaking of progress, Logan’s due for his vaccines this week, right?” You remember the schedule clearly, not just because you’re good with dates, but because Logan has become somewhat of a shared responsibility between the two of you—or at least that’s how you still see it.

“Oh, right. I promise I'll swing by. No bailing this time,” she says, chuckling, but there’s a serious undertone that tells you she’s committed to making good on her word this time.

“You better not,” you tease, “Can’t have Logan missing his shots. He’s still very young, and it’s critical we build up his protection against—”

“I won’t, Doctor,” Leigh cuts in, giving you a playful salute that makes you blush. “So, where are you off to after this? I was actually about to grab some donuts for breakfast—”

Leigh pauses mid-sentence as a woman appears at your side. She’s stunning—slightly taller than Leigh, clad in a sports bra and tight yoga pants, with sneakers on her feet. An absolute goddess; even Leigh can’t resist a quick, appreciative glance.

“Who's this?” the woman asks with a British accent, adding the perfect touch to her 5-foot-7 frame.

“This is Leigh,” you introduce quickly, noting the surprise in Leigh's expression. “Leigh, this is Sara.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Sara says warmly, extending her hand. Leigh shakes it, though her movements are somewhat mechanical. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh?” Leigh’s smile is strained. “Nice to meet you, too.”

You quickly steer the topic back to Leigh's breakfast plan, asking where the donut place is. “It's just down that street,” Leigh points vaguely, but then stops short. Almost as an afterthought, she adds, “Actually, I just remembered I've got to pick up something from the laundromat.”

You frown, thrown by her sudden change of tune. “Are you sure? We could grab a bite after the run.”

“No, really, I should get going. Maybe next time!” Leigh replies hastily, already stepping back, her exit swift and decisive. As she hurries away, you're left there, watching her leave, trying to figure out what flipped her mood from happy to wanting to escape so quickly.

“Shall we?” Sara nudges you gently, already jogging in place.

You give Sara a nod, but as you start running, you can't help but sneak one last look back. Leigh is quick to put distance between herself and the park. With a sigh, you turn your full attention back to Sara, who’s already picking up the pace, chatting about a new trail she wants to try next weekend.

“Let's go,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, as you push your legs to match her pace.

Meanwhile, Leigh walks briskly to a different restaurant, forsaking her initial craving for donuts. She can’t quite explain why she fabricated an errand; all she knows is that she needed to get away from you and Sara. Earlier, she couldn't help but notice how close Sara was standing to you, assessing you with a look that seemed a bit too interested. Leigh keeps turning over Sara's words in her mind, puzzling over what she meant by saying she'd heard a lot about her from you.

Why were you talking about her with Sara? Who exactly is Sara to you? Just a friend, or something more?

And what Leigh finds even more perplexing is why she's so troubled by needing to know the answers.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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didnt-hear-idsb-live-again · 14 days ago

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People have been asking me for the past few days how they can still get the Florida shirt, and now that I've taken my whole Etsy shop down to keep my account safe, how they can get some of my stuff for the holidays while I'm figuring out what platform to shift to, so! I have spent all day working on the current temporary solution: A cute little catalogue you can order fan merch from, like the kind you'd get in the mail in the 90's except digital.

Pricing, sizing, color info, and easy ways to identify each item are included on each slide and with each product image. If you'd like to order something (or have questions!) you can just shoot me a DM or email me at [email protected]. Checkout via PayPal Goods & Services which requires tracking #'s to be provided and offers robust buyer protection.

I know this isn't ideal but the idea of people wanting to get stuff from me and then buying shitty knockoffs on Temu, plus having lowkey no income right now thanks to my shop being down, has been tearing me to shreds for the last 3 days, so. If you were planning on buying some fan merch from me this holiday season, please consider still doing so :') Love you guys hope you enjoy this and don't think it's stupid

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undiscovered-horizon · 3 months ago

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"Hypothetically speaking" - Juice Ortiz x Reader

SUMMARY: It's basic etiquette to not try your luck with a friend's girl. But when that friends seems to have no respect for the girl, perhaps it's basic etiquette to give her the affection she deserves.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 3k

Truthfully, everyone knew it wasn't going to work out - everyone except for you. Whether you are too pure or delusional, the thought never even occured to you, while the other members of the motorcycle club knew the bitter end the moment they saw you. At first, none of them thought much of it. That's just how Jax Teller rolled, there is nothing new in that matter. It was the subsequent weeks that made them dread the inevitable:

Jax brought you around the clubhouse to help out with the accounting, housekeeping or party-throwing. Usually, you were holding a pan, a broom or a pen in your hand. Or certain other things whenever Jax needed tending to his more carnal desires.

Nonetheless, the other Sons have gotten to know you personally and it was that new friendship that bore dread in their chests. You seemed to have a curious talent for making people feel seen. Even the smallest of details never escaped your attention. Refilling the bar for the night, you'd always find time to ask Happy about his mother's health and how he was holding up. Chibs and Tig have come to expect you to ask them about their children. Their answers rarely changed and so did yours: 'I'm sure they're thinking about you.' The biggest surprise came from the prospects as they had grown accustomed to everyone pushing them around and yelling at them. So when you'd ask them whether they were hungry, at first they were sure it was some kind of a test or a ruse.

For Juice, those little signs of a soft heart were nails in his coffin. Whenever he was spending several hours in front of the computer, you'd appear with a drink and a small snack. On top of that, you always made it seem like these small acts of service are something obvious - it would be entirely strange to not care for others simply because you can. Usually, your presence would slow down his progress as Juice was willing to exchange his worktime for a conversation with you. As desperate as it may sound, he came to the conclusion that his job will still be there in twenty minutes but you will be gone the moment Jax enters the clubhouse and takes you away. Sometimes he wondered if he had Teller's charisma, would you give him a chance? Considering you were seeing his friend, he never planned on acting on his feelings. Even the thought made him cringe: fantasizing about fellow member's girl? That's a rather large 'no-go'.

As usual, the dread settled in the men's chests when you entered the clubhouse. Then, it grew ten sizes as they all silently realised that the inevitable was about to play out in front of their hungover eyes. You passed the threshold in a somewhat hesitant manner like you always did, unsure whether you're interrupting something or are even wanted there. Bobby, Tig and Chibs greet you but they're unable to hide a strange sadness to them. None the wiser, you chalk up their lack of humour to the aftermath of a night filled with vices.

The clubhouse is a temporary ruin. Bottles and glasses are scattered across all flat surfaces. One of the tables is slanted, missing one of its legs. A few pairs of bright-coloured underwear are lying here and there. Something tells you that yesterday you missed a truly historic night of fun.

"Is Jax around?" you ask. The men exchange a meaningful gaze but it goes unnoticed by you. "He left his shirt at mine yesterday afternoon, I was hoping to return it."

Tig's face cringes. There's a sorry look in his eyes. "Sweetheart-"

"He just left, actually," Bobby interjects. "Don't know when he'll be back."

You look between them, beginning to sense tension. "Alright," you answer, unsure what to make of the situation. "Then I'll just leave it in the dorm room."

Their silence makes you wary like there's a piece of information that you're missing while it's fairly obvious to others; something hidden in plain sight. You walk past them, when Tig's conscience puts up a fight once more. He makes a step towards you, hoping to stop the disaster about to unfold. Chibs, however, grabs his arm before the man can realise his plan.

"He's made his bed, brother," the Scotsman says in a low voice lest you hear their conversation.

"Come on, man," Trager answers with a look of disbelief on his face. "She doesn't deserve that."

"Aye, she doesn't." The man nods. His stern expression reveals that he, too, is more than unhappy with the unfolding events. "But it's already happened."

Juice is either really lucky or terribly unlucky to be walking down the corridor at the same time as you. His lips widen in a smile and he's about to call out to you, when he notices the white t-shirt in your hand. In a split second of considering his selfishness and your feelings, Juice decided to act against his own interest. He picks up his pace and manages to block the dorm room door just as you were about to put your hand on the handle.

"You really don't want to go in there. Trust me." Juice is trying his best to sound like he's joking but he's not a good liar - especially when you're the one he's attempting to deceive. True feelings are slipping through the cracks and you notice his nervousness.

"What do you mean?" you ask. The weirdness of the guys' behaviour that day is putting you on edge. What on Earth is going on? "It's not like there's a biological warfare behind that door."

Two laughing voices are audible from inside the room: one belongs to Jax, the other probably to a woman. Something stirs inside you, anxious and dreadful but you push it further down. No need to get upset before you get all the facts, right?

"See? Everything's fine," you say to Juice, although the reassurance is really for yourself.

The door swings open with a slight moan of the hinges. Then, as you take in the scene before you, it feels like time has slowed to a halt. Jax is sitting on the edge of the bed, scandily clad in the thin bedsheets. Maybe he covered himself when he heard the door open or he wasn't planning on getting up just yet. In the bathroom doorway stands Ima, dressed in a rather tacky purple lingerie - the cheap kind that desperately tries to have some semblance of luxury. Had the situation been less agitating, maybe you'd think that it's a fitting piece of garment for a woman of her sort.

It's hard to say whether it's the shock or resilience but you manage to keep yourself whole. The last thing you're going to do is cause a scene.

"Brought your shirt." You disturb the akward silence. Jax's expression is unreadable but Ima appears rather amused - there's a sly grin on her face. Her quiet snickering makes tears pool in your eyes. "Thought you might want it back."

Wanting to evacuate as fast as you can, you lay the t-shirt on the dresser by the door and turn around to leave the room. Juice hesitantly whispers your name as you brush past him but you can only muster a quiet apology.

Jax, suddenly realising the consequences of yesterday's impulsiveness, hastily puts on a pair of pants. He keeps yelling your name, begging you to stop and let him talk to you properly but you don't give in. Running out of the dorm room, he's stopped by Juice, who grabs his arm.

"I think you've done enough, man," Ortiz states in an angered tone.

For a moment, the two of them stare each other down in silence. The tension feels like a forest fire - one moment of carelessness might lead to a true disaster.

Both men are aware of the other's affections. It is only now that they admit this knowledge.

"You need to back off," Jax whispers. Juice is disillusioned that the Vice President would have no inhibitions in caving his face in.

But lovers oh-so-frequently tend to grow just a little unwise the more they love. Perhaps that has made all the difference on that dreadful morning.

"No," Juice says while shaking his head, "I think I should go after the crying girl who just saw her boyfriend naked in a bed with someone else."

"That's not your concern."

Looking over the blond's shoulder, Juice catches Ima's malicious amusement. She knew exactly what she was doing and not for a moment did she feel bad about it. When he looks at Jax again, his dark eyes carry more contempt than anger. "Apparently, she's not your concern either."

Before the young Teller can continue their argument, Ortiz is running down the hallway. Bobby, Chibs and Tig ask him something but he only gives them a disinterested 'later' and continues his search for you.

Despite the perfect view of the parking lot from the rooftop, you didn't notice Juice approaching you. Only when you heard the rattling of the ladder did a wave of shame flood your mind. You didn't want anyone seeing you like this, especially people of formidable grit. Some part of you dreaded being considered weak. If you were just a little more honest with yourself, maybe you'd realise that what you were truly afraid of, was the outside confirmation of what you'd already believed about yourself - too weak, too emotional to ever fit in this life.

The shame, however, seems to evaporate the moment you see Juice's apologetic expression. He always had a strange air about him, an aura you couldn't quite explain. Something about the man makes you think that you could tell him the most asinine or embarrassing thing and he would never think less of you.

With a hesitant, quiet 'hey', Juice sits down next to you. Despite his own desires, he leaves a gap between the two of you. His eyes keep switching between looking at his fiddling hands or the side of your face as though he's unsure what's the correct course of action.

"I'm stupid, aren't I?" you finally speak up. Turning your head to look at Juice, you notice a sudden change in his expression - for some reason, he looks like he's about to burst into tears, too. "Believing that he would settle for me?"

There's so much he wants to say. An entire monologue is prickling at his tongue. You'd be the one settling for him, not the other way around. Never. But Juice manages to keep those thoughts to himself for now as they are not what you need to hear at this moment. Maybe, just maybe, one day he'll get to show you that whoever you decide to marry, no matter how noble or rich, you will be the one settling for them.

"There's only one stupid person in this situation and it's not you," he says in a serious yet gentle tone. "Okay, maybe three stupid people."

Despite his resolve, Juice is only a man and he, too, must break at some point. His hand fearfully reaches for your cheek. When you don't pull away, he hesitantly wipes away a tear rolling down your face.

"Three?" you ask in a quiet voice.

"Jax is one, for obvious reasons." With the back of his hand, Juice wipes away the other side of your face. "Ima is two. And the third... is me."

Confused, you furrow your eyebrows. "You? You're not stupid, Juice. Why would you say that?"

"I'm the king of stupid, actually." He lets out an airy, bitter chuckle. Suddenly feeling small, he retracts his arm. "I just tried to cover for my dick friend, so the girl I'm in love with doesn't get her heart broken. Extra stupid points for running after her like a lost puppy that just wants to make her happy."

"That sounds more lovely than stupid," you manage to whisper before another wave of emotions wreaks havoc. Tears stream down your face again but this time it's not only the bad feelings - there's something nice among them, too. A sense of relief and belonging; an overwhelming realisation that you're loved as a person and not only as a woman.

He doesn't complain or lecture you. Neither does he attempt empty words of comfort and encouragement. Juice doesn't know what he should say, so he settles for silence. However, his quietness speaks volumes. With a soft expression on his face, he keeps wiping your tears away.

"What do I do now, Juice?"

"Whatever you want," he answers with a strange lightness to his voice. It appears that his response is not something carefully woven but rather a cliché.

You sniffle loudly and although there's nothing attractive about that, it's candid. In Juice's eyes, it only makes you more beautiful. "Right now, I don't know if that list is very short or ridiculously long."

A corner of his mouth rises in a nostalgic smile. He seems to be recalling a memory.

"Remember that one time when you couldn't sleep and found me working at the clubhouse?" Juice asks. You only nod, unsure why he would suddenly remind you of that. "Remember what you told me when I talked about all the things I still needed to get done?"

"It's only three things," you repeat under your breath. Truthfully, you have almost forgotten entirely about that conversation. Juice had been going on about all the complicated steps that had to be done before calling it a day but, in the end, it was only three things. Granted, three time-consuming, challenging things but only three nonetheless. You never thought your comment meant so much to him.

"Exactly," he says as though he had just given you the perfect recipe for anything and everything. "I'm suggesting, you do two things now. First of all, get over the guy that couldn't appreciate you."

"Sounds smart but I'm not sure I know how to do that," you admit with a nervous chuckle. Jax Teller has been a tornado to your soul: came suddenly, wreaked havoc and simply moved on. There is no one to clean the mess, no one to put the pieces back together except those that survived. And you're still at the stage of debating whether you have, actually, survived Jax Teller.

"I guess the first step is not going back to him."

As simple as it sounds, the solution might just be one of the hardest things you've ever done. Nothing good comes easy, as they say. If it's true, you're going to reach for something truly incredible with this resolution.

"And the second thing I should do?" you ask. Deep inside, you're paying he's about to suggest something silly or relaxing.

Suddenly, Juice turns shy. This biker guy with tattoos and a loaded gun is fiddling with his hands and stubbornly avoiding your gaze. Despite his appearance, you think he's adorable.

"Well, uh..." He clears his throat in a vain attempt to get rid of his shakey tone. "If you want, no pressure of course but if you find it in yourself, then maybe you could at least think about grabbing dinner with me?" Whatever your expression looks like, it must make him even more nervous as Juice immediately begins downplaying his question. "Like I said, no pressure. I know it's bad timing all things considered, so it's cool if you don't want to, it's okay-"

"I'd love to," you interrupt him.

For a moment, he silently stares at you like a deer caught in headlights. "Cool. That's, um... nice."

You see him ever so slightly cringe at his awkward response but you don't think him weird. No, the nervousness makes you all the more convinced you want to go out with him - the anxiety proves that he cares more than he's brave enough to admit.

"Can we add a third thing?" you ask hesitantly.

Juice smiles at you as if today is the best day of his life; the kind of smile that slowly mends broken hearts. "What's on your mind?"

"Say, just hypothetically, how annoying would it be if Ima's car had slashed tires?"

He nods slowly, a shadow of mischief dancing across his handsome features. "Really annoying."

"And if she had to pay for new ones and there'd be a bullshit charge on the receipt like premium air or something?"

The man laughs. How can a sound leave you breathless?

"She would have a really fucking shitty day," he answers.

"Just hypothetically, I'd be satisfied."

"I think I know a guy. Just hypothetically."

Silence falls between you again. It's not tense. No, it's quite the opposite - the silence of two people who can just be. Now that happiness or at least a lack of sadness has entered your face, Juice is staring at you with an expression you can't describe beyond soft. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was not looking at you but at a rare, priceless treasure he has spent his whole life searching for. But you do know better; you know that, perhaps, people can be priceless, too.

A dark thought suddenly clouds your mind: Jax used to look at you the same way. Not always, not for long but he did. And yet, as he has proven, it meant nothing for him.

You push those thoughts away with all the almost-depleted strength you have left. It's no use crying and ruminating about the past when you have your future sitting right next to you. A bright, terribly good-looking future, one might even say.

"Can you just hold me?" you ask him quietly. The heartbreak of Jax's choice and the elation of Juice's confession have left you tired and vulnerable beyond all imagination. Such opposite emotions are ripping you open in conflicting directions. It's like dying and being reborn all at the same time.

"As long as you need, baby."

Juice wastes no time happily fulfilling your request. He brings your legs over and across his own, nudging you even closer towards him. Gently, he pulls your head to rest in the crook of his neck. As strange as it may sound, the man feels like a fortress protecting you from past and future heartbreaks.

#soa #soa fanfic #soa fanfiction #soa imagine #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #soa x reader #sons of anarchy fanfic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy x reader #juice ortiz #soa juice #sons of anarchy juice #juan carlos ortiz #juice x reader #juice ortiz x reader #juice ortiz imagine #juice ortiz fanfiction #juice ortiz fanfic

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eddiediaaz · 3 months ago

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hi guys, i am kind of ashamed and embarrassed to have to do this, but i figured it can't hurt to ask. basically i am really struggling right now (i know a lot of us are). i need financial help, so i set up a ko-fi page ☕

any kind of help would be so appreciated and i am so grateful for anyone taking the time to read this little post.

long story short: because of situations completely out of my control, i lost my job in vfx after almost 8 years and i am now forced to switch careers. i'm going back to school and can't find a part time job even tho i have been working non stop for 15 years. financial aid will only cover my rent, so i absolutely need to work 20 to 30 hours a week to cover the rest of my living expenses, but it's really hard to find a job. i am also currently over 10k cad in debt from my film school loans and credit cards.

signal boost would be appreciated, if you can 💕

my situation in more details under the cut for those who are curious

i was working in the vfx industry as a 2D compositor since 2016 (i have worked on over 40 films and tv shows), but in december of 2023 i lost my job due to the hollywood strikes (as expected, and as it should—i fully support the strikes). this was supposed to be temporary for a couple months where i could get unemployment benefits (only 45% of my usual salary though). unfortunately, on may 31st 2024, my government announced that they are significantly cutting the funding & tax credits for the vfx industry where i live. what does this mean? mass lay offs. thousands of canadians and other people in the world working in the industry are losing their career, including me. there will only be about 20% vfx jobs left where i live by 2025. vfx shops and production houses have already started to close doors here. i'm still mourning this career i have been working in for 8 years and loved, even tho it's been difficult and demanding at times (lots of overtime), but there are just no jobs right now (unless you are a senior vfx artist with decades of experience) and the future will only get more bleak. i could move abroad and follow the industry that is already moving somewhere else, but i don't want to do that on my own (i am already super lonely as it is!!) and i can't afford it.

my unemployment benefits will run out by the last week of september. in 4 weeks. i've been sending resumes everywhere, both online and in person, but i am just not getting anything in return. even tho i have over 15 years of experience working in various jobs and i have never been fired from anywhere. even tho my resume and cover letters are solid because they have been approved my professional counselors (a free service for people under 35 where i live). so much for they're hiring everywhere...

since my vfx compositing skills are very niche and not really applicable to much else, i decided to go back to school, taking college classes in the admin and excecutive assistant fields, since it's something that i think would be good for me and there are lots of jobs for that here. i will be getting some financial aid, but it's nowhere near enough to survive. it will only cover my rent, and that's because my rent is super cheap for my city. my college classes start on september 30 and i am excited for it, but also very stressed because i still don't have a part time job.

i've been living on my own with a small salary for over 10 years now, but it truly is the first time that i'm struggling this hard. i honestly don't have anything worth selling except some taylor swift perfumes, which i sold this week. i also have over 6k of credit debt and another 4.5k of school loans left to pay. at the bare minimum i will need about $1.000 CAD/month to cover my other bills and expenses after rent, hence why the need for a job ASAP. i am desperate and my mental health has been a huge mess. this is why i decided to open my ko-fi accounts. not that i'm expecting much, but anything can help, i think.

i don't have much to offer in exchange, except gifs? i'm wondering if (cheap, low price) gif commissions are a thing? i have no idea know, but i set up a poll on my ko-fi page to see if anyone would be interested.

thank you for reading if you've made it here, it's appreciated 💖

#little aesthetic gif just for attention lol #signal boost #i have no idea how to tag this #kofi

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harmonic-intervention · 10 days ago

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No way it was our last night

In Buck's defense, the first time it happened, it had been an accident.

Somehow, calling Tommy in this situation was the least embarrassing option.

And another fix-it for you. Got a couple more coming your way.

Word Count: 18,586 - getting back together, BDSM, aftercare, Buck looks for shitty doms so Tommy will come and take care of him

Excerpt:

In Buck’s defense, the first time it happened, it had been an accident.

He’d done what Tommy had told him to and looked around. Only Tommy had, with a firm and gentle hand, brought him into the world of BDSM, and Buck needed to get out of his head. Normal sex, regular sex wouldn’t be enough. He’d slip up, call his partner Tommy whether they were male or female, he knew it.

So, instead, he looked for people he could call sir and mistress. Who would get him out of his head, out of his body, and make him stop thinking.

It’s how he ended up here – in his own bed, which he already had mixed feelings about. It would end up being a blessing and a curse.

The woman he had met gave him the name Mistress Heidi, and she was a couple of years older than buck, worked as an accountant, and had straight blonde hair, light blue eyes, and long, bright pink fingernails. Buck wasn’t sure whether he wanted them anywhere near his nether regions, but she’s also been recommended as a strict and disciplinary domme.

Buck had decided to go the route over the service of the BDSM club he and Tommy used to go to together. He was still a member, and he didn’t want to cut ties with that club just because he and Tommy had broken up. They offered a sort of screening, where subs and doms without permanent partners could match up for a temporary partnership or just for a single scene.

He had met Mistress Heidi at the club, not as a sub and domme, but as two people who were trying to figure out whether they were compatible. They went over their nos and yeses, and boundaries for a first scene together – not in public, in someone’s own home, nothing too heavy. They were getting to know each other.

Mistress Heidi was adamant that she preferred going to the sub’s home, said she believed that a sub would always feel better when they were in a familiar environment. Buck couldn’t really argue against that, so he met her at the door of his own loft.

She was truly beautiful. Confident in her stride alone. Her voice was a bit smoky, and Buck didn’t feel as weird taking her orders as he thought he would after he’d only been with one dom before.

She tied him to the bed with two pairs of handcuffs, and left her phone on the bed next to Buck. Saying that everything should be okay, but maybe her kid might call, and in that case, they would have to cut this encounter short. Buck didn’t mind.

She was still dressed by the time he was fully naked, and his hands were itching for something to do. As it was, all he could do was curl his fingers into his palm. His order had been to lie still and let her look, let her understand her new plaything.

Everything was fine and dandy. Buck was starting to feel light and floaty, he was turned on, ready to see what Mistress Heidi would do next, but that changed by the soft vibration of her phone. It was right next to Buck’s ribcage, of course he felt it. And he couldn’t help it, had to raise his head to look down.

A text message flashed on the screen. The screen that had a background picture of Mistress Heidi in a white dress with a complicated looking hairdo adorned with white flowers. She was held in the arms of a handsome man in a black suit.

Buck didn’t really question it, but he couldn’t stop, “Oh, you have a husband?” from tumbling out of his mouth. He assumed it must have been an open relationship kind of situation.

Only Mistress Heidi froze where she was seated on top of Buck’s thighs, her hands stilling on his abdomen. In an inelegant maneuver, she scrambled for her phone and shut it off. He looked at her, taken aback, and then she moved off of him, grabbed her high heels from the ground, and her purse, and ran down the stairs.

“Uh, what?” Buck called out, followed by the slam of his front door. What!?

He blinked. Needed a couple of seconds to process what had just happened. Heidi was gone. She was fucking gone, and had left Buck there, cuffed to the bed. Where the hell had she put the keys? Oh God, what if she had taken them with her?

[continue on ao3]

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #tevan #kinley #bucktommy fic #harmonic writings #harmonic posts

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beefrobeefcal · 5 months ago

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Tommy Miller's Stall feat. Marcus Pike & f!Reader

Prompt: Marcus Pike + BBQ + "It's a Surprise. Close your eyes."

a @pedgito challenge fic | Rated: 18+ | word count: 2,852 warnings: swearing, talk of drinking beer, eating, bathroom stalls becoming shrines, Barbequed meats (consumed), broken AC, lack of air circulation, sweating, oral (m receiving), pork steeple in ham wallet (unprotected), bathroom shenanigans, pre-term ejaculation, cumming undone too soon, grey t-shirts

A/N: I know I am a day late with this and I know bc of that, it's probably not going to be included in the challenge, but I needed to release this! Apologies to @pedgito for my tardiness. This is not the previously met Marcus - he's a Marcus all of his own.

Thank you to @strang3lov3, @noxturnalpascal & @bitchesuntitled for their love and support.

Traveling for work meant Marcus got to know all the random hole-in-the-wall eateries and Miller Bro’s Boy Howdy BBQ in Austin was one of his favourites. He loved the laid-back atmosphere and the story of why Joel & his brother Tommy bought the place from the previous owner – Tommy lost his virginity in the bathroom to a line cook named Rhonda and begged his brother to help him buy this drive of a restaurant and save it from demolition. There was even a plaque in the stall where Tommy ‘became a man in Summer ’89’.

Over the years, he’d gotten to know the menu and the Miller brothers. Joel was more aloof, preferring to stay in the kitchen or at the BBQ pit out back, while Tommy was happy to sit out with the customers like they were old friends, playing cards or sharing a few stories and laughs with them. The few times that Marcus had interacted with Joel were mainly to compliment him on the menu and tell him how much he liked the place; Joel would grunt and nod in thanks and head back into the kitchen.

There was another reason he liked coming to this place – you. From the first time he laid eyes on you as he darkened this place’s doorway six years ago, he knew he was hooked. You’d flashed your smile at him, flipped your hair and told him to, “Take any available seat, handsome. I’ll be right wit’cha!”

He’d learned that your nickname was ‘Peaches’ on account of your penchant to recommend the peach and bourbon barbeque sauce that was house made. He also learned that Joel kept an eye on him when you were around - he would catch Joel narrowing his eyes at him through the kitchen service window when you were at his table taking his order. It used to make Marcus nervous, thinking he might get something extra hidden in his food, but he decided that it was too delicious to care.

He'd taken a temporary position in the Austin office and for the last six months, he’d eaten at Miller’s every night and it was apparent. Marcus had assumed you were being kind when you called him handsome, especially now that he was barely fitting into the oversized summer attire he’d packed in late December before he’d come out to Austin and discovered that eating large portions of charbroiled meats at least once a day would alter your waistline so drastically.

His middle had filled out enough that the suits he wore throughout the day had to be tailored repeatedly before being fully replaced to accommodate his new weight. And the summer clothing he was wearing, formally loose-fitting for the heat, were anything but. So, when you winked at him when he entered today and said that you’d be with him in a minute, he internally reminded himself that you were just doing your job.

Marcus sat heavily down and slid into the booth, then waited for you to come over to his table. As he sat, he noticed how warm the dining area’s temperature was and took in the slight sweat ring and patches that were forming on your grey Miller Bro’s Boy Howdy BBQ branded shirt. He also realized he didn’t hear the tell-tale whirling and churning sounds of the too-old AC unit that normally filled the vacant spaces between conversations. He looked up to the vent in the corner, and the streamers that normally danced in the airflow hung limp, and he wiped the back of his hand over his damp forehead. He was getting hot.

“Hey handsome.”, you smiled, a slight weariness in your eyes but your smile shone bright. “Usual or you wanna see the menu?”

Marcus smiled back, and not wanting to make you work any harder, nodded and responded, “The usual please, Peaches.”

His eyes trailed down your body, landing on your butt as you walked back to the service window, then smiled to himself. He looked up, then made direct eye contact with Joel who only offered a scowl followed by a judgemental head shake before he disappeared back into the depths of the kitchen.

*****

Marcus was sweating. After finishing his meal, Tommy had come around and sat with him, ordering more barbequed goodness and beers, telling him the beer was ‘on the house, ‘cause the fuckin’ AC shit the bed.’ This exclamation was followed by you reminding Tommy that the AC was broken because he spent the repair funds on a ridiculous crystal duck as a gift to impress a woman – a woman who happened to be the AC repair tech’s wife.

Even with the cool beer, Marcus felt overly hot. A belly stuffed to the brim with smoked and charbroiled meats while sitting in a hot, stuffy room with still air was getting to him. As Tommy stood, slightly wavering on his feet from all the beer he was consuming to match the beer he was giving away to customers, he heavily patted Marcus on the shoulder and muttered, “Take it easy, big guy… I’ll be back ‘round soon.”

*****

You were hovering around Marcus’ table, checking in on him and Tommy, and every time you moved towards the kitchen with another order, Joel would shake his head at you, much like he would at Marcus.

“One of y’all better make a move soon… fuckin’ pathetic.”

You huffed in response, cheeks heating up. “Shove it, Joel. Mind your business.”

“Jesus, Peaches! It’s my fuckin’ business if I’m payin’ you by the hour and have’ta watch this horse shit pussy footin’ between you and fat boy over there. Just go sit on his lap an’ get it over with.”

You gave him a warning glare and a smug grin tugged at one side of Joel’s mouth. He nodded to you, signaling to look and you saw Tommy leaving Marcus’ table.

“Gonna close early on account of the heat and the fact that I’m fuckin’ done roastin’ myself in this kitchen.” You heard Joel chuckle behind you. “Get’er done, Peaches.”

*****

Marcus stood and stretched after he finished his beer, feeling the weight he'd consumed in his stomach, and looking down, he could see the bulk of it, too. You watched him stand and stretch, exposing a sliver of his rounded-out middle between his shirt and shorts.

Tommy tsk’d, startling you. Turning around, you were met by his slightly drunk, glazed eyes, and a dopey smile. “Joel’s right, Peaches. Just bite the bullet and take that man for a ride in my stall.”

“Oh my god, Tommy!”, you exclaimed with a frown a little too loudly, shoving him back.

Tommy laughed and handed you a shot of bourbon. You rolled your eyes and slammed it alongside him. He then grabbed your shoulders, turned you to face Marcus’ direction and said in your ear quietly. “No harm, no foul in helpin’ him take in the sights Austin has to offer, Peaches.”, then shoved you towards his table.

You caught yourself from stumbling and cleared your throat as you approached him. Marcus turned and looked at you; a small smile spread on his face before a pink blush crept up his cheeks as he tugged his shirt down, closing the slight gap his stretch had caused.

You could feel the energy, electrifying and crackling like a late July thunderstorm, raging in the space between your bodies, pulling you together with a gravitational field that would rival the one caused by Jupiter’s giant spot. Marcus opened his mouth to speak but any words he was going to say were lost in his throat as you moved forward and kissed him. The soft exhale that came after his surprised gasp tasted like beer and barbeque sauce on your tongue that pushed against the seam of his lips. His hands, sticky and smoky, were tethered up in your hair, holding your face against his as he deepened the kiss, granting your tongue entrance in your tongue’s long anticipated dance.

You barely heard Tommy spit his beer out and sputter out choked coughs as Joel grunted then nodded in approval at what you and Marcus were up to. After depriving yourselves of full breaths for long enough, you parted, panting, staring at one another. Marcus’ shoulders and chest were heaving and his lips, parted and pouted, were wet from your combined saliva. His face was flushed, glistening in the low glow of all the tacky neon lighting adorning the walls, one side of his face pink from flamingos with sunglasses on, the other side flickering orange and yellow from the broken Corona promotional neon sign. He was beautiful.

At that moment, you didn’t think what you looked like, completely enraptured by the huffing and panting man sweating in front of you.

“Peaches…”, Marcus murmured, eyes wide and pleading. “I wanna do this right. I-”

You couldn’t let him finish, not if his next words could dampen the fire that had erupted in your core, making your hole twitch hard enough that you felt it in behind your belly button. You shook your head and shushed him, pressing your index finger against his lips. You grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the men’s washroom, directly into Tommy’s stall.

Thinking back, you would wonder how differently things would have gone if you’d pulled Marcus into a private area that wasn’t designed for single occupancy. The stalls in this restaurant were small, given that the original design of the washrooms did not include stalls at all, and Marcus was no longer a small man. But good god, the feeling of your body pushed up against his as he was backed against the stall door, mashing your mouths together.

You were still taking the lead in this dance, setting the pace and motions, while Marcus finally allowed his hands to touch more than anywhere above your collarbone. He gripped your waist with one hand and the other pushed its way between your bodies to clumsily try and shove it down the front of your pants. You both awkwardly tried to undress one another as you kept your lips and tongues attached, panting and grunting. If someone walked into the bathroom, they might assume there were two dogs quietly fighting over a piece of beef in the stall.

Once your jean shorts were open, Marcus wasted no time in shoving them down enough to shove his barbeque-tinged fingers into them. He eventually found what he was looking for when the tip of his finger grazed your sensitive and twitching nub, eliciting a gasping moan from you as you involuntarily bucked your hips. It was what tipped you over the edge, prompting you to swing him around and fumble with his button fly. He pulled back and his hands gently held yours, halting your mission to get his pants off.

“Marcus…”, you panted against his mouth.

“I haven’t… it’s been a while since…”, he stumbled through his words.

It seemed like time was slowing and you smiled softly at him. “Close your eyes.”

He hesitated, sucking in a breath nervously. “Why?”

“It’s a surprise. Close your eyes.”

His brows twitched and did as he was told and you sank to your knees, sliding your hands down his torso and thighs, and he let out a soft whimper once he realized where you were headed. Once on your knees, you pushed up his shirt and pressed a kiss right below his belly button and steadied yourself with your forehead against his full and rounded out stomach, your hands now free to get his shorts opened and down. His cock was pushing an impressive bulge in his grey boxer briefs, and you could see where the tip was pressing, a dark, damp patch at its peak.

Pulling down his underwear, his cock popped out and slapped up against his heavy underbelly, and without any hesitation, you grabbed it and sucked the tip into your mouth.

Marcus moaned out a surprised gasp and his hand gently rested on the crown of your head.

“I-oh fuck! I won’t… I wont last long. Peaches, please, honey.”, he whined, his fingers curling into your hair ever so gently.

He wasn’t kidding when he said he wouldn’t last long. His balls had just started to lift and tighten as you pulled off, and you looked up at him, marveling at the sight above you. Marcus was leaning back against the stall door, and you could only see his tented brows above his closed eyes before his belly obstructed the view.

Standing up, you smoothed your hands over his middle and leaned in to kiss him. He smiled against your mouth, and took a chance in moving away from the door and his arms wrapped around your body, pulling you into him. He maneuvered the both of you, now facing the stall door, ready to push you against it, to get on his knees for you, and pulled your shorts and underwear off completely.

But you stopped him, shoving his shorts and boxer briefs down his thighs, and pushed him back to sit on the toilet.

He fell back on to the lowered seat with a grunt, and you straddled his lap.

“Marcus,”, you breathe out as you start to seat yourself upon his cock. “I’ve wanted this for -oh god! for so long…”

He nodded frantically, and his fingers dug into your hips once your hips were finally flush with his.

“Oh…oh fudge…”, he moaned, clenching his eyes closed.

His breathing was quick and staggered, and his hips twitched and bucked under you. All you had done was allow your pussy to swallow his cock whole. He wasn’t kidding when he said that he wouldn’t last long, and the strain that reddened his face and the sounds leaving his mouth as you began to rock your hips slowly, trying to give him some time to adjust, but you needed to move.

“P-Peaches -”

You shushed him, and gripped his shoulder, starting to pick up the pace. His cock felt amazing - not too big or thick, but absolutely a perfect fit for you - just like him.

“Peaches - please, baby!”

Marcus tried to slow you down, tried to hold you down, tried to gain leverage by grabbing anything he could, tried shifting underneath you, but you were determined. You hushed him again, reveling in the harsh way he finally gripped your waist and hip with his large hands, and the rhythm you’d found bouncing on his cock. It was hitting just the right spot at just the right angle, and you could feel the early stirring of your climax.

But the sound of the toilet flushing from him sitting forward enough to set the sensors off and the loud, long groan that Marcus let out, followed by the feeling of warm cum shooting into you made you still in his lap.

He gripped you tighter, panting ‘Peaches!’ over and over, and pushed his face into your t-shirt covered chest, and his belly contracted and relaxed at an alarming pace.

“Oh god… oh no. I’m-I’m so sorry!”, he whined and whimpered into your cleavage, still unloading spurt after spurt into your pussy. “Oooooh! oh my go-I’m sorry…”

He panted out grunts and groans, and his face twisted against the front of your t-shirt in blissful agony with his brows furrowed and his mouth open. Wet, hot breaths and saliva heated up your chest, and his hips bucked a few times, the final drops of cum finally spitting out.

“P-Peaches - I’m sorry.”, he murmured, weak and breathless. “I-I couldn’t - it’s been a-a while… for me.”

You sat silently, feeling his cum leaking out of you. You’d never had a man cum that quickly before. Sure, you’d had guys finish first, but this was a record, and yet, you weren’t mad. You couldn’t be.

“Marcus – “

“Just too pretty... I-I tried… I-“

“Marcus – “

“I didn’t mean to… just so pretty and I-“

“Marcus!”

He finally pulled back and looked up at you, his big brown eyes pleading for mercy. “I really like you and I wanted to do this right; ask you out properly, and - “

“Take me home and finish me, Marcus.”

“I just - wait, what? You want me to-”

“Take me back to your place. Make me cum.”

His eyes widened in disbelief, and his mouth moved slightly, but no words came out, only small, confused breaths.

“I like you, too, and-”

“I want to take you for dinner first.”

You smiled and huffed out a laugh. “You just ate!”

He nodded, raising his brows and offered a small shrug. “Well, yeah, but you- uh, well you got me working up an appetite. And I -”, he looked a little bashful as he continued. “I want to - uh - perform well and I can do that after we get some food in and the beer out of my system.”

You pressed a sweet kiss onto his lips and both of you couldn’t help the giggles that started.

The door to the bathroom opened and slammed against the wall; Tommy’s slurred voice boomed out, “You two done? I wanna piss’n my stall.”

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#summerlovin24 #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal tummy #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #chubby marcus pike #chubby pedro pascal characters #🥩

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tubatwo · 1 day ago

Text

once more to see you - huening kai

summary: where meeting TXT Bank’s new intern makes y/n come up with any excuse to see him

pairing: gn reader x huening kai

genre: fluff; 2.1k words

a/n: I don’t even know what this bank thing is for yet I just saw this pic and immediately had to write. also this is literally not how bank visits go but LMAO. aren’t silly stories just perfect!!! nothing makes sense!!!

working in food service in one of the busiest cities meant that each night would end in tips galore. thankfully, your regular checks were enough to pay the bills, so you usually stuck with depositing cash tips at least once a month.

this was a regular routine that worked for you. walk into TXT Bank, talk to the strict bankteller whose name was apparently taehyun, show your ID, hand money over, boom. done.

but one day, this routine ended up falling apart. you walked in, and instead of taehyun, you were met with the face of the adorable new intern.

kai was deeply focused on the computer in front of him, desperately trying to figure out the client case taehyun showed him earlier. his cat-like manager’s instructions kinda went in one ear and out of the other, so it was crucial to figure things out as soon as possible if he wanted to secure his full-time position. that is, until he noticed your figure approaching with his peripheral vision.

the two of you locked eyes, eyes sparkling as if you each had just spotted an adorable puppy. kai’s cheeks grew red and your ears started to feel hot as you walked closer to him.

“hi, excuse me? i’m here to deposit cash to one of my accounts.” you look down and start to play with the zipper of the bag holding your tips, the eye contact from before making you overwhelmed as your brain practically malfunctions. where the hell is taehyun? and did he have to leave someone so cute in charge?

kai clears his throat before putting on his best customer service voice, “of course! i’d be more than happy to help you, ma’am.”

you look up and see his name tag: ‘KAI HUENING - INTERN’ the word ‘intern’ snapping you out of your temporary trance from before.

“oh um, is this the right desk? i noticed your tag says intern…” the furrow of your brows and confusion all over your face makes it near impossible for kai to hold back his smile as he responds. “no worries! i’m in the midst of receiving a full-time position here. i may be an intern, but i can assure you that i’m approved to work on deposits. we’re just a bit short-staffed at the moment.”

kai’s warm, gentle gaze washes over you, so much that even if he was straight up lying, you wouldn’t even blink an eye. his brown eyes were slightly hidden by the strands of hair falling over his face, which also happened to be decorated with soft moles all around. his mullet-like haircut also complimented his button-up, making him look like the lead singer of an old pop-rock band.

“ma’am?” kai’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, making you flinch a little. “oh, i’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!”

you wave your hands and apologize, “i’m sorry! i suppose i started drifting off a bit. here is everything you need.” you pull your ID and the cash out of your pouch, handing it to the intern and trying to calm your heart after your fingers brush against each other. after everything is finalized, kai hands your ID back to you. “alright, everything is set!”

you look at his nametag once again, “thank you um… kai?, i really appreciate it.” kai’s cheeks grow red again at your voice saying his name so sweetly. he chuckles nervously and scratches his head. “yep, that’s me! well, did you need anything else?”

you try to rack your brain for any possible thing that could extend your stay, but nothing comes to mind. “no, that’s all! thank you again.” you say, slightly disappointed. kai smiles. “it was my pleasure, make sure to visit us again!”

and you did. many times. like waaaay too many times.

after meeting kai, you couldn’t help but want to see him more. your usual monthly trips to the bank turned into weekly, and then almost daily. every time you collected your tips for the night, you made sure to visit the bank again in the morning.

as you visit more frequently, you and kai’s interactions start to become playful, and you become a bit more closer. you both still get shy as you lock eyes, but jokes are often thrown in here and there. kai found himself taking extra time to count your money when you came in, desperate trying to hold onto every second of your presence.

“hey!” you try to hold in your laugh, “as the intern, shouldn’t you be learning to count faster not slower?” you joke. kai’s hearty laugh fills the room before he pretends to look offended. “excuse me? it’s only natural that I get a little distracted when a pretty person enters the room”. his words make your entire body grow warm, and you can’t help but try to shift the focus away from you. “o-oh? I don’t think that line was part of your training.” you giggle.

kai giggles with you before thinking of a rebuttal, “you’re right actually. our handbook specifically says to not flirt with customers... buuut i’ve never been great with remembering the rules.”

“well, if you’re gonna be a bankteller then you should probably start studying before you end up in jail for fraud or something.”

the two of you burst out laughing, failing miserably when it comes to keeping quiet. you let out a few giggles again before you’re left in a comfortable silence. “I guess you got me there, but seriously y/n, i’m happy I can always help you.”

after a few months of visiting kai (and seeing the bank more than your own family), you wake up one day to head over before realizing that you don’t have any tips to deposit. “shit.” you whisper to yourself, closing your eyes in frustration. you had the day off yesterday and don’t go back to work until tomorrow. you were left with a completely free day to do whatever you wanted.

any normal person would have taken the chance to relax, maybe get some chores done, even some shopping? but the only thing you cared about was hearing kai’s laugh again. there had to be more reasons to visit the bank, right? yeah! you could come up with something…

after cleaning yourself up and getting ready, you felt slightly embarrassed at how much effort you put into your appearance. were you trying too hard? would kai get the wrong idea and think you were meeting with someone? by the time you had answered your own questions, you were already at the front door of the building. you took a deep breath and headed inside, expecting brown eyes to meet yours again.

well, they did. but they weren’t the ones you were looking for.

“how can I help you?” kang taehyun asks after seeing you walk in. his eyes go back to his computer, and he begins typing something up. you’re so caught off guard that you can’t even come up with a response. you already didn’t know what to come here for, and now that taehyun is in front of you, you feel stupid for even showing up.

“I want to… um…” you trail off, causing taehyun to pause his work and stare at you, waiting for an answer. you look around nervously before quicking spewing out, “open a bank account! yes! I um, want to open a new account.”

taehyun goes back to type some things into his computer. “ID?”

“huh?”

“ID. I need your ID to confirm your identity, ma’am.”

you suddenly realize what you’re doing and awkwardly feel around in your purse, looking for your wallet.

well shit.

“s-sorry, it’s uh… it’s gotta be in here somewhere.” you stall. as taehyun pinches the bridge of his eyebrows, a familiar figure exits from one of the staff rooms.

“hey taehyu-” kai notices you in front of him, a worried look etched across your face as you dig through your bag. taehyun motions kai over, “come watch, kai. you can see how we deal with customers who clearly show up unprepared.”

kai’s voice and the mention of his name immediately make your head shoot up. you look at him embarrassed, desperately wishing you could go back in time to when you were still in your bed. you feel frozen as the two men stare at you, waiting for you to do something.

“hey,” kai reaches out to lightly touch your arm, “are you okay? do you need help?”

you brush him off, not wanting to worry him. “no, i’m okay hyuka, i’m sorry.”

before kai could react to you apologizing to him (for what seemed like no reason), taehyun eyes the two of you suspiciously. “do you two know each other?” he asks. kai looks over and nods before speaking, “yeah, we’re uh… friends…?” he looks over at you with a mix of hope and hesitation in his eyes, not sure if you felt the same way.

“oh!” your eyes widen, “yes! we’re friends. i’m sorry, i’m just so used to running into him here now.”

kai feels relieved hearing you agree, and his heart beats faster at the thought of being somewhat of a constant in your life, even if it’s just to deposit cash into a bank account. he quickly brushes off his thoughts before coming to your defense. “see? everything’s okay. they’re just a regular customer, that’s all. you don’t have to scare them to death.” he jokes.

“no! it’s my fault,” you admit, “I don’t need to do anything actually… I even forgot my ID on the way here, i’m really sorry for bothering you guys.”

kai looks at you confused. he doesn’t know why you keep apologizing, and he really doesn’t know why you showed up if you didn’t have any requests to make. taehyun, however, is able to read between the lines. “i’ll leave the two of you alone.”

kai doesn’t even glance at taehyun as he walks off. his only focus is you and making sure that you’re okay in this moment. “you’re never bothering us, but is something wrong? what’s the matter?”

you let out a deep breath and decide to be brave. you can do it. just tell him. if nothing works out, you can always just deposit in the future through an ATM or something…or maybe get a new bank.

“okay well, this is super embarrassing but I didn’t have a reason to visit today, kai,” you pause, looking him in the eyes, “I just really wanted to see you...” you trail off, feeling even more embarrassed than you did before.

kai laughs softly at this while you continue to ramble, “which technically is a reason! y’know?”, he takes your hands in his, causing your brain to malfunction like the first time you ever saw him.

“did you really come all the way for me? even without needing a deposit?”

you laugh to yourself and how lame the two of you sound, probably something straight out of a nerd fantasy book. “yeah, even without the deposit.” you smile, squeezing his hands lightly. kai blushes and smiles to himself, trying to come up with a joke to mask his sudden shyness. “are you sure it was worth it? i mean, taehyun’s pretty scary.”

you smile and nod your head, “you’re here in front of me, right? i’d say it was pretty worth it.” you and kai both look around the building only to find that there’s no one else here. just the two of you.

you look back at each other, eyes drifting down to each other’s lips as you gravitate closer. before your lips meet, kai whispers.

“can I kiss you?”

you nod and press your lips against his. one of his hands come up to hold your cheek as if it were made of glass, and you allow your arms to wrap around his waist. as the kiss continues, you chuckle, making him pull away, wanting to see your smile once more.

“can I take you on a date? after I get off of work?” he asks, lips suddenly feeling cold after pulling away. “I would love that, kai.” you smile as you hug him. “it’s a date then! I promise i’ll finish work as fast as I can.”

“oh, no you won’t, I need you to focus instead of rushing.” a certain voice interrupts the two of you.

you look over to see taehyun smirking with his arms folded, almost as if he was silently taking credit for getting the two of you together. kai rolls his eyes playfully at taehyun, “yeah, yeah, I didn’t mean it literally!”

taehyun looks over at you with an apologetic look in his eyes. “i’m sorry for my bluntness earlier. it gets pretty stressful around here, but i shouldn’t have taken it out on a regular customer. I don’t know how kai keeps his composure sometimes.”

“I get to see y/n almost every day, how could I not love every second of it?

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insecateur · 9 months ago

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hey just so you know discord hotlinking finally officially ended so if you had pictures hosted on discord somewhere (like in a fanfic or whatever) you should switch to another host asap

all discord image links in the older format (i.e. without the little temporary url ending bit) will no longer work, even if the images were posted on discord prior to the change. we were warned about this months ago but a lot of people had been wondering whether older images would be grandfathered; the answer is evidently no.

there are a few free hosting options that allow hotlinking around; be aware that imgur, neocities, and dreamwidth prohibit it (you can technically hotlink if you have a paid neocities account but they still discourage doing it.) if you're looking to host nsfw stuff the options are even fewer; personally i've been using squidge, but it's run by one guy which means that if the guy's server goes down, everything goes down, which makes it so that sometimes, pictures will be gone for a few hours to a couple of days. (this isn't a criticism, btw; i think offering free hosting to people in fandom like this is an incredible gesture. i'm just giving a warning for people who are used to online services that never go down.)

i don't have a list of hosts handy unfortunately, tho i know there are some floating around, i just wanted to post about it and kept forgetting. i've been knees-deep in replacing all my links these last few days, thankfully i had the foresight to rehost everything 4 months ago when the announcement first came out and had just been too lazy to switch links around so it wasn't too much of a hassle.

#samtxt #feel free to reblog or w/e but anybody being smug about the discord hotlinking situation will be blasted on sight

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lemotmo · 5 months ago

Note

They closed their ask box. I hate people 😭😭

I hope it's temporary

A. Hi anon. Before I respond, I want to take a minute to say that I think this will be my last answer for a bit. My ask box needs a break, lol. It's a little hostile in there right now. Some of the asks/messages are lovely, thank you for those and I will see how I feel after the holiday.

Now with regards to your question. You can absolutely headcanon. No one is saying you can't. I would never say that. That's part of fandom and it's fun. What I was saying to that particular anon was that there's a difference between headcanoning scenarios you would like to see for your favorite ship/character and outright stealing another characters actual canon history to give to a character you prefer. That history belongs to Eddie not Tommy. You're correct though that Tommy shares some characteristics with Eddie, pretty sure that's the point. So in theory, sure, they could have similar storylines but they don't. The reason they don't is because Tommy is a minor character, and as such he will never have a storyline written for him. That's the way plot points work. They're designed to push a main character's storyline forward. Eddie is a main. Buck is a main. Tommy is a plot point, at least as of this writing. Pointing that out is not mean. It's not bigoted. And it's definitely not homophobic. It sucks to love a character the show doesn't care about. Most of us have been there at some point. We have fallen for a C or D character and have headcanoned a reality for them far better than their show was ever going to give them. It happens. There's nothing wrong with it. But it still doesn't make him anything more than what the show is telling you he is. And again, as of this writing, he has been written as nothing more then the guy Buck is currently seeing. But lots of you don't even seem to care about Buck with regards to the ship. There are messages in my ask box from people telling me that they don't care if Buck and Tommy break up because they will just ship whoever they pair Tommy with next. They won't pair Tommy with anyone next. When his Buck storyline is done his services will no longer be required. And that is what all of your anger is really all about.

If season 8 has Buck telling Tommy he loves him then that will be canon, you're correct. It is also canon that Buck told Taylor he loved her. I don't think you will get much argument from people on that. But it didn't matter. They broke up. She's gone. That is also canon. It's Buck's canon history. And you can't erase it. Just like you can't erase Eddie's canon history. That was my entire point. I've said from the beginning Tommy not being Buck's endgame doesn't mean he's not important, in some capacity. He will always be Buck's first. And him just being that is okay. That's important. There is no need to make it more. Fandom is meant to be fun and this has become unnecessarily exhausting on every level. I have been very pro Tommy, for what I believe the shows purpose for him is. Refusing to pretend he's more doesn't make me homophobic. That argument is juvenile and stupid and is only being made because there's no actual argument to have. Unless the show makes him more, than what they have so far, you all are just shouting in circles. Love him. Ship him. It's okay, I promise it is, but you have no reason to be angry that others don't. You have no right to be angry at Oliver for not promoting it. You have no right to be angry at Ryan for playing the character most of the audience wants with Buck. The show promised you nothing. Oliver said nothing. Ryan didn't do a thing.

You admitted in your ask that you have been blocked by Oliver, Ryan and the official show account. Do you know what you have to send to an official show account for them to block you? You have to send something pretty disturbing. And one person having multiple accounts doesn't fix the block. It's very easy to identify multiple accounts being run by the same person/IP address. That's not hard and it doesn't require advanced computer knowledge so I promise you the moderators running the show account know how to do that. So you can create all the accounts you want, and you said you have multiple, but like you also said they're all blocked. Ten or so people pretending to be 50 or 60 different people is still a very tiny fandom and I have no idea what you think that's going to accomplish. Other than getting all 60 accounts blocked. We have no proof that Tim is the one who put a stop to the cameo videos, you can't make that statement, but if he did, he had every right to do so. They got entirely out of hand. Like I said in a previous answer Lou wasn't' talking to a wide audience, none of the view counts ever went past 2,000 people. The count may be higher now if people uploaded them to YouTube, but those extra hits mean nothing. That is a tiny, tiny fandom, and there is nothing wrong with being a tiny fandom. But it was clear the same 8 and 9 people were the ones purchasing the cameos and then they were turning around and spouting his PAID content as canon facts, and anybody who dared say otherwise was homophobic. That's not how any of this works. Lou was very careful to say, each and every time btw, "yeah I can see that", "sure I guess you can say that", "I played it as...". Zero part of any of those words should lead anyone to believe he was stating facts. Those same people though then turned around and openly bragged about demanding the show give us a Tommy begins episode. Openly sending Oliver hate because he didn't follow him back on Instagram or promote the ship. And most inexcusably disgusting of all bragged about telling Ryan they wished he had committed suicide. That is sick, immature and highly disturbing behavior. And for what? There was never a reason for any of it. So I hope it was Tim who ended it. Oliver and Ryan didn't do anything wrong. They have every right to want to tell the story they want to tell for their characters. You have every right to disagree with them. It's that simple. You have no right to the abhorrent behavior that followed. And Oliver, Ryan and the show have the right to block you over it, but you don't get blocked by them just for saying you ship Buck and Tommy and everyone knows that. I have no doubt that this is not the response you were looking for, and in spite of everything, ships are meant to be enjoyed by whoever enjoys them. So ship away. Enjoy it. But you cannot force them onto others. That is a simple truth and it shouldn't be that difficult to understand. 💗

I really hope it's temporary but I do understand it. Great response though.

Once again, thank you for sending this Nonny.

First of all, it's a sad state of affairs when someone is pushed to stop talking basic common sense and truth on their own personal fandom blog. All because others don't like their opinion and have decided to spout hatred. I'm so tired of this insane behaviour of attacking people for having an opinion on a character or a ship.

So much to unpack in this post. But I'm just going to pick out a few topics that I have something to say about. The rest of it has all been explained so well by the OP's answer.

The fact that some of these people got blocked by the cast and the official account is crazy. When I read about the fact that someone bragged about telling Ryan they wished he commited suicide??? Seriously? Are these people for real? All of this over a fictional ship on a fictional show? This isn't just one bridge too far. This is ten million bridges too far. It disgusts me on a basic human level and frankly? It should disgust everyone.

The fact that some of these stans are saying that, even if Buck would break up with Tommy, they would want Tommy to have someone else? It's once again rooted in this stubborn resistance to see what is truly happening on the show. Tommy isn't going to stick around. He is going to play his part and leave as plot devices tend to do. I don't understand what they are hoping to gain with this shortsightedness? It will only get them hurt and disappointed in the end.

The whole Buck will tell Tommy he loves him in season 8 is also, once again, based on a headcanon. This time a headcanon made by one BT shipper who claims to be in secret contact with Tim. He gives her secret season 8 spoilers. I mean... really? How is it that people fall for this kind of nonsense? If some Buddie shipper would make a post about having contact with the showrunner and him telling them that they said Buddie is going to kiss in episode 2 of season 8? I would laugh out loud and bring out the 'Sure Jan' GIF. I mean, people cannot be that gullible, can they?

I admit though, the one thing the BT fandom do have is that Tommy will always be Buck's first when it comes to his experiences with a man. And I also admit that, personally? I hate it. I wish they would have found someone else. Someone who had the acting chops to actually show some emotional depth in his scenes with Oliver. Someone who didn't have a shady past. Someone who was more understanding and less dissmissive. But I guess that was also part of the story the show was trying to tell us. It was showing us that Tommy isn't 'the one' for Buck. In every scene it became more and more apparent that this relationship isn't going anywhere. But I'm just bummed that Buck, once again, fell into a relationship that ultimately is going to cause him hurt. I'm so tired of that. His next relationship better be with Eddie, so he can finally be completely happy with someone (after a lot of drama no doubt) and settle down, which is something he obviously really wants. The same goes for Eddie by the way. I just want to see that man happy at this point. I want him to figure himself out and fall for Buck. No other boyfriends necessary. Just let them be happy together. Do you hear that 911? LET 👏 THEM 👏 BE 👏 HAPPY 👏 TOGETHER! Thank you!

So yeah, that's about all I wanted to add. Just some observations really. Their message doesn't really need explanation or addendums. It's perfect as it is.

This will be the last update from the anonymous OP for now. I get why OP wants a break though. Dealing with fandom used to be a fun experience. These days it's like taking a walk in a swamp. You never know what's going to happen when you're there. Things could be peaceful or you could be attacked by a giant alligator, without any warning. It's exhausting, that's what it is.

Anyway, OP? Whoever you are. Wherever you are. Take a break, relax. I wish you sunshine and happiness during your break. I'll leave you with another anon message I received yesterday:

"I hope this gets back to that one anonymous blog we all love but I'm so sorry you're getting hate from those people for simply stating not only your opinion but the obvious truth that most of us have been able to see from the beginning. Your answers are always so eloquent and concise yet never malicious, it's truly a blessing to see a Tommy fan with actual common sense lol."

Remember, no hate in comments or reblogs. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of the anonymous OP’s posts, you can find all of their posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

#anonymous blog I love #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie speculation #season 8 speculation #insight into 911 fandom & season 7 and 8 #911 abc #nonnies galore

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ama-a93 · 1 month ago

Text

putting this here as well so people who bought something from me know what happened with etsy and them screwing me over lmao:

since @Etsy hasn't responded to me after two weeks here's exactly what happened: order placed on 9/27, packages get sent out on 9/30, case gets filed for that order saying item wasn't delivered 1 hour later, etsy escalates + refunds within two minutes, i am suspended, i file an appeal, get a response after 4 minutes saying it was denied and i am permanently suspended even though supposedly a "specialist will carefully review your appeal details and account history"

i've tried emailing their customer service explaining what happened and have gotten zero response and also tried reaching out on here to be completely brushed me off saying i was contacted when it's just an automated email notifying me of the suspension

i don't know if this is an automation issue but its crazy that i got suspended over one (false) claim to possibly prevent scams or something when i am obviously not scamming people (50+ reviews and posts from people saying they got them)

i also just haven't gotten paid a single cent since i started selling. it's been on temporary hold for a month now and before the suspension i contacted customer service and they told me theyd look into it but nothing yet again

also please do not file a case on etsy since it doesn't help, it just screws me even more lol

#shop update #sigh

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heliads · 2 years ago

Note

req with nikolai lantsov x reader. they are married for convenience but are friends and support each other until they fall in love and everyone notices but them. reader and nikolai kiss a few times and sleep together but never talk about it. when zoya becomes queen nikolai asks reader if she will want to stay married to him and reader says she loves him, with or without a crown. angst with a lot of fluff at the end please!

anon i love the way you think (also all hail dragon queen zoya)

masterlist

Your husband may be joining you shortly.

It’s still strange to be saying that. Your husband, your king, your friend above all. Nikolai Lantsov has always been a great conspirator, a wonderfully clever thinker, so you trusted that he wasn’t merely making a drunken mistake when he asked for your hand in marriage over too many drinks one late night. Nikolai doesn’t do drunken mistakes. In fact, you think he gets drunk on purpose when making difficult choices to twist his enemies into thinking that they’ve got the upper hand, all so he can trick them when their eyes are closed in self-congratulation.

It might be a habit left over from his time burning the seas as Sturmhond, or it could just be Nikolai himself. Always the schemer, him; always the planner, the one with the ideas. His eyes glint like ice, his hair shines like metal. Both can cut if given the chance. No Lantsov would ever let themselves go into the unknown vastness without a weapon, even if the only one left is their own physical flesh and bone.

No, Nikolai wasn’t kidding when he asked you to marry him. By all accounts, it was a logical choice. The other nations had been clamoring for him to wed one of their daughters for quite some time now, and marrying you gave Nikolai an easy way out. You were a Ravkan noble, and well-connected to the independence cause while the Darkling was still in power. Having you as his bride would alienate no foreign powers just as it would connect him even further to his own people.

That’s the reason he gave you at least, his fingers tented in the shadow of a half-empty glass of champagne. The two of you were somewhere inside one of the Grand Palace’s mammoth rooms, far from the slippery wastes of the shadows outside. Nikolai always gambled best when his feet were on his own ground, when he didn’t have to fear anything or anyone interrupting his flow of thought. He could trick you into pledging your loyalty regardless of where he stood, of course, but it could never hurt to get the odds all in his favor.

You had said yes. Of course you had. You are Nikolai’s best friend, or so you like to claim. You think it could be true at one point. Maybe that will come after the veil descends over your eyes and a ring appears on your finger. Still, you think you’ll remember the way Nikolai’s gaze had sparked with triumph upon hearing your answers for years to come, as well as how he’d finally allowed a tipsy flush to descend upon his cheeks. Perhaps it wouldn’t be a terrible mistake after all.

The wedding served its political purpose. The biggest change the marriage gave your life was that it handed you a permanent spot in the Grand Palace. Before, you were always temporary, forever having your terms of service extended as your help was needed more and more in the war effort. Now, you’re a fixture for real, never having to worry about being gradually cut out again. It certainly allows you to make it to meetings on time with that much more certainty.

Also, you’re not alone anymore. You never were, not really; Ravka is a cramped sort of annex, the kind of place in which you can hardly go down the length of a street without bumping into at least half a dozen people. The palace is on a whole separate level, however. Here, there are guards stationed everywhere, First and Second Army alike, then all the Grisha there with the Triumvirate or having arrived to report from the Little Palace just around the corner. Factor in palace staff, random diplomats, and spies, and you’ve got an audience fit for any queen, no matter how recently crowned.

No, hardly a dull moment indeed. Still, in the times when you need company most, those late nights when you’re certain that Ravka could never possibly come back from all the fights it has chosen to pick, you have someone there with you, someone who understands. When the moon has hung overhead for quite some time and the lights are off, Nikolai sits by your side, whispers that it’s going to be alright. Neither of you believe it, but it makes it better to hear someone you trust speak the foolish hopes aloud.

In all honesty, you think you’re growing to rely on him a little too much. At the beginning, you and Nikolai both agreed that this was strictly a marriage of convenience, that you had started this whole affair as friends and you would end it as such as well. Yet when Nikolai presents you to everyone in his path as his wife with that same giddy look on his face, it’s easy to pretend that his feelings could be elsewhere.

Elsewhere, just as yours are now. You had not intended to fall for him, but Nikolai does not make it a difficult task. He never has. There is another reason you agreed to his proposal, one you would not tell him in a thousand years: you assumed that you would never get such a chance again. Nikolai is, after all, a royal, and you are not. If you had declined his offer, it would only be to watch him wed someone else. At least now you get to claim his heart. At least now it is halfway yours, even if he grows to love someone else. On paper, he is chained to you.

Some days, that is enough. Others, you won’t satisfy yourself until you know for sure. There are a few nights when both of you want to prove something, when you take kvas instead of water for too long and let yourselves pretend that your alliance is something more than mere politics. You have kissed him more than you thought you would, even when no one was watching and there was no audience in need of a ruse to be kept up. You did it because you wanted to, and he kissed you back because he needed it just as much as you.

You never offer up an explanation for those nights, and neither does he. In the morning, you both go about your business as if nothing had ever happened. In reality, it hasn’t. Small altercations involving both of you ignoring your duties have no place in the future. You are wed for Ravka and you’ll die for her too. Falling in love is only a distraction, and not one that will serve you well. You learn that soon enough.

Your husband may be leaving you shortly.

Nikolai is not a Lantsov, not really. The rumor mills have known it for some time, and you think Nikolai has as well. Of course it would all come to ruin at some point. Nikolai has had an incredible grip on his broken country for quite some time, but all those petty shards just sliced his hands to ribbon. It would all drop eventually, and no one could blame him for that.

The nobles wanted answers. They always do. What you did not expect, however, was to walk out of a conference in which Zoya Nazyalensky was named as ruler of Ravka instead of Nikolai. The general of the Second Army is a worthy queen, of course, and you easily hand your title over to her; the stress could gray your hair like a silver tiara, but it still leaves you wondering what comes next.

It also makes you think about Nikolai. Nikolai, who wed you to avoid political conflict. Nikolai, who is no longer in that same position. Nikolai, who has absolutely no reason to remain married to you at all.

Your thoughts race in a tumultuous rhythm all the way back to your quarters after that fateful meeting. It’s going to hurt. What will? And: of course it will. What in this world doesn’t? You close the door behind you and walk halfway into the room before coming to a stop again. This has been your place for so long. It almost feels cruel to leave it.

The door opens behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know who has intruded on your shared space. You have long since been able to identify Nikolai by the turn of his step, the even rush of his breath, the quiet shuffle of his fingers in his gloves.

“Do you hate me for not giving you more advance notice?” He asks. Nikolai is careful to keep his voice neutral, but you hear the way his breathing hesitates as he waits for your response.

“No,” you say, although you do not turn around, “I knew you came up with it about thirty seconds before you said it. You didn’t have time.”

Nikolai exhales slowly. “We’ve had a lot of time.”

You close your eyes. This is the part you’ve been waiting for. This is when he ends it. Nikolai has no more use for you, not after he’s done his political maneuvering and finally managed to get himself out of the whole mess of kingship. You have always loved Nikolai for his mind, but Saints, if it doesn’t hurt sometimes to feel it used in the wrong direction.

“You could do it, you know,” you whisper, “No one would blame you.”

Nikolai had been starting to walk towards you, but his heels come to an abrupt click-stop on the floor. “What?”

You let out a bitter, quiet laugh. “End it. The marriage. People are already asking if you’re going to cut it off. We only made this agreement so you could fend off the other Ravkan nobles while you were king. You’re no longer king, why keep this around any longer? I won’t force you to stay with me if you love someone else.”

Nikolai is deathly silent for a moment, then two. You tense your shoulders, waiting for the blow to land, but it never does. Instead, he walks to your side and takes your hand.

“Do you always have to be such a martyr, sweetheart?”

Your lips part in a silent gasp. “What?”

Nikolai has the nerve to smile as if he hasn’t upset your entire world. “I know you didn’t just marry me for politics. I didn’t ask you just for politics, either. We wanted something. Maybe I still want it.”

He squeezes your hand; you squeeze it back, two beats of a heart. “You could marry Zoya, though. If you still wanted the crown.”

Nikolai laughs. “I don’t want the crown, and although I am certainly grateful to Zoya, I don’t want to marry her, either. No, Y/N, I want you. I want to wander through Ravka without having to worry about all the responsibilities of my office. I want to rent a rusted schooner and show you the sea. I want to get us in trouble and out of it again and again. I want to do a thousand things with you that we never could have done as king and queen. I want to die having loved you, and having loved you right.”

You smile, unable to stop for a second. “We can grow old without anyone needing us.”

Nikolai closes his eyes for a moment as if picturing it. “I think I’d like nothing more.”

You stand in a room that is no longer yours, in a palace that no longer calls your name. You think you have never been happier about it. You still have your husband. All else is a mere triviality.

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggiesolovey

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov imagines #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov oneshot #grishaverse #grishaverse imagines #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse oneshot #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagines #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone oneshot #grishaverse nikolai #grishaverse nikolai imagines #grishaverse nikolai x reader #grishaverse nikolai oneshot

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