#abs shopping haul

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 12 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You and Bradley both know you need to have a conversation and define your relationship. Bradley is excited to get home to you and do just that... and then maybe take you to bed for the rest of the night. But when Meredith crashes the scene, and someone gets hurt, he has to change his plans.

Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

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After Bradley dropped Noah off early at daycare on Friday morning, he had an hour until he needed to be on base. He wanted to get to you as soon as he could, but he stopped to get your coffee on the way. 

It was funny, because the baristas really did know him by this point, and they knew what his regular order was. He was probably the only person in the history of the coffee shop who asked to write the names on the cups himself. So he scrawled Princess and peasant on the two cups and handed the marker back to the barista, making sure to leave a tip. 

He knew where you lived, because it was very close to Penny's house, and he wondered if you were going to let him inside your place. He parked behind your car and made his way up to the front door of the small cottage that needed a lot of work. It was smaller than his house, which had more than enough room for three people. Bradley juggled both coffee cups into one hand and knocked.

And when you answered the door in your scrubs, fresh from the shower, he knew he was gaping at you. But you were no better as your eyes went a little wide at the sight of him in his flight suit with the sleeves tied around his waist. 

"Morning, Princess," he crooned softly, and you were smiling up at him as he handed you your coffee. "Give me your keys, and I'll move Noah's carseat into your car."

"You want to come in first?" you asked, and Bradley slipped willingly inside your living space. Everything had a dreamlike quality; he hadn't quite been able to imagine what your place would be like. When he was your age, he had owned nothing and had no one. Strangely enough, you seemed similar to how he had been, but it didn't come with a sense of sadness. You seemed independent and smart, and as you slipped your hand into his and pulled him further inside, Bradley leaned down to kiss your cheek.

"I would give you a tour, but there's nothing really to see," you told him, shrugging as you looked between your small living room and your small kitchen. 

"You gonna show me your secret Skittles stash?" he asked, earning a laugh. 

"Absolutely not," you replied. "You seem like the type who would have no self control if you knew the location. You'd eat them all in one sitting."

"That's not true," he promised, running his thumb along the back of your hand. "I'd save you half and you know it." He loved that smug smile on your lips, couldn't get enough, really. Then he looked around a little more, inhaling your sweet scent. He eyed a hoodie with Greek letters hanging on one of the hooks next to the door. "Were you in a sorority?" he asked, running his fingers along the fabric. 

With a soft laugh, you shook your head. "Uh, no. That belongs to my ex, Greyson. I keep forgetting to take it over to his apartment and drop it off."

Bradley eyed your pretty face and glossy lips. He knew all about college guys and cute girls, and he didn't want you going anywhere near Greyson's place anymore. "I could drop it off for you, Princess."

You released his hand and let your palm come to rest against his abs while you casually sipped your coffee. "You jealous, Daddy?"

Bradley hauled you against his body with a soft yelp, setting his coffee down on the table followed by yours. "Why don't you show me your bedroom?"

You wrapped your hands around the back of his neck and kissed him softly. "Won't you be late for work?"

"I don't care," he growled, letting his hands slide down your body until he was grabbing your ass and rubbing against you through the thin fabric of your scrubs. You were making soft sounds as you kissed him, and Bradley knew nothing except the desire to take care of you in every way.

"Okay, Daddy." You were leading him up the stairs, holding his hand and looking back at him as you led him into a room with a double bed and a dresser. Everything was tidy and it smelled so fucking good, Bradley was getting harder my the second. 

You looked at him expectantly as he started to untie your pants. Fuck. He was thinking about calling out of work and spending the day in your bed, showing you everything he could and would love to do to you. 

He licked his lips. "If we make this quick, I don't want you to think it's because I didn't want to spend hours with my face and cock buried inside you."

"Oh," you whimpered before you bit your lip. Bradley slipped his hand inside your underwear. You were soaking wet already, and so sensitive that you shook before him. 

He kissed your lips as he let his fingers glide through your silky wetness. Your hands were exploring his shoulders through his undershirt, and Bradley couldn't remember wanting anyone like this before. 

"Turn around, baby," he whispered, and you did just as you were told, bending over and bracing your hands on your bed. When he knelt behind you and yanked your pants and underwear down to your feet, he moaned at the gorgeous view he was treated to. 

"You okay?" you asked, since he had stopped touching you except to stroke your thighs with his thumbs. Bradley responded by nudging your legs a little further apart and kissing your pussy until his lips and mustache were all wet. You smelled and tasted so good. He wanted to smell like you for the rest of the day. You were whimpering softly, stuttering on his name, and as Bradley stood and unzipped his flight suit a few more inches, he basked in the genuinely needy noises you made.

You met his eyes over his shoulder, and he leaned down to kiss your cheek as he lined himself up with your tight pussy. "I just want to make you feel so good, Princess," he promised, pushing himself deep inside you with a groan. "You're too perfect for anything else."

"Bradley," you whined as he planted his hands next to yours on the bed. He covered your body with his larger one, wanting to protect you and make you feel like you belonged with him even while he fucked you. Maybe especially when he was fucking you.

"Princess," he whispered, kissing along the back of your neck and burying his nose in your hair. The slapping of his thighs against yours was filling the room, and Bradley had to bite his lip against the sensation of how damn tight you felt. He could cum now, he was certain of that, but he wanted to make everything good for you. "I want you to cum for me."

You took Bradley's right hand in yours and kissed his fingertips before guiding his hand so he was touching your clit. He groaned next to your ear and you turned to kiss the corner of his lips. "Touch me?" 

Bradley sucked on your neck while he spread you open and circled your clit with his middle finger. You were panting, exposing more of your neck for him to nibble on as you bucked back into his thrusts. But that first squeeze had him seeing stars as you keened. And then you got louder and louder until you were whining Daddy at full volume, back arched as you came for him.

When he finished a moment later, he let his hand drift up your body over your perfect skin until he was stroking you gently through your bra. "I can't wait to see you later tonight, Princess."

"Mmm," you sighed as he withdrew from your body. Then you stood and pulled your clothing back into place, and Bradley knew he would be thinking about your cum soaked underwear until he saw you later and got to do it all over again. 

"I think you earned your very own bag of Skittles," you whispered, running your hands along his chest and up to his shoulders. 

Bradley took your chin between his thumb and fingers. "I'm curious to know what you're going to give me after I spread you out on my bed later and really take my time."

Your eyes fluttered closed as he kissed you until you whimpered. 

"Shit, I need to go, Princess. Let me put the car seat in your car."

You took his hand and led him back downstairs, grabbing a bag of Skittles from a kitchen drawer and handing it to him while he looked at Greyson's hoodie again. "Thanks, baby. You know... I meant it. I can drop that off for you if you want me to." Simply the idea of letting your twenty three year old ex boyfriend know that you were currently getting fucked by him had Bradley grinning.

You pressed your lips together and tucked the Skittles into the pocket of Bradley's flight suit before saying, "That sounds like something a boyfriend would do."

He sucked in a breath, because you were fucking right. Flipping your ex the proverbial bird was boyfriend behavior, and he wanted to do it anyway. As it was, he already wanted you with him and Noah all the time. He knew he needed to talk to you about defining what was going on, because the app was off his phone now, and he'd been wanting you for weeks.

The expectant look in your eyes had him kissing your lips, and you had the audacity to lick his still damp mustache and moan. Would he get in trouble with Maverick if he stayed longer and had you again? But then his phone rang, and he discreetly silenced it as soon as he saw that it was Meredith.

"You and I are going to have a conversation later. Okay, Princess? Now where is your car key?"

--------------------------------

Before you left for class, you bundled up Greyson's hoodie and shoved it into a shopping bag. You'd drop it by his place one day next week, so there was no sense in leaving it hanging around with your other things. 

Just seeing Noah's carseat in your backseat had you smiling. And that smile lasted all day while you were in class and filling out information for your clinical research work. You loved being the one who Bradley knew he could trust with his son. You loved spending time with Noah and making snacks for him. You had the All About the Letter N! coloring book tucked in your bag along with your textbooks, and after you took Noah to the park, you and he could color. And then Bradley would come home. And you and he could talk. And then hopefully you would be willingly spreading yourself out on his bed for the rest of the night.

With a soft moan, you pulled up the address of Noah's daycare in your phone's GPS and headed toward your car. It was only twenty minutes away. He would probably be hungry when you got there, which was fine, because you had some ants on logs in a cooler in your trunk just for him.

But the look on Noah's face when you were the one who arrived to pick him up made you smile so much, it hurt your face. "Did you have fun today?" you asked him as he climbed up into your arms and hugged you.

"Yeah! Did you bring a coloring book?"

"I sure did, Noah. And I brought you a snack. Do you want to go to the park and have your snack on a picnic table?"

As he nodded against your shoulder, you decided to just head right for the park in Bradley's neighborhood. You could change out of your scrubs later when you took Noah home for dinner. You brought something cute to change into, but Bradley wouldn't be home until closer to Noah's bedtime anyway. So you parked near the picnic tables, not too far from the playground equipment, and took the cooler out of your trunk before scooping Noah out of his carseat.

"Ready?" you asked, taking his tiny hand in yours as you slipped your sunglasses into place. "Let's have a snack first, and then we can go on the swings."

The playground was not crowded, but the kids that were there were running around, laughing and screaming with parents and grandparents. The picnic tables were empty, and you helped Noah climb up onto one of the benches and kissed his head.

"Have some ants," you told him, lining several carrots up on a napkin for him. You crunched into one as you settled onto the bench beside him. He ate the rest of them, leaving a mess of peanut butter on his face and hands, but you had wipes inside the cooler. 

"Were they good?" you asked, laughing as he looked inside the cooler for more as you wiped his cheek clean. "You want more?"

"Yes," he replied, turning toward you with wide eyes, looking so much like his dad that you had to laugh. You could probably cook nonstop for the two of them, and they would just keep eating. 

You kissed his forehead and scooped him up from the bench. You tucked your trash inside the cooler along with the ice pack and led him to the swings. "I'll make you more after dinner if you're still hungry."

"Promise?"

"Of course, I promise!" you replied. The breeze was picking up a bit, but it was still a beautiful day. And as you pushed him higher and higher at his request, you smiled at the dad next to you as he chased a toddler around. You briefly thought about what you might be able to cook at Bradley's house, then you sighed realizing you should have grabbed his credit card for groceries just in case. 

You inadvertently made eye contact with a woman who was standing alone near the far end of the swings before looking away. She looked familiar, although you were also sure you'd never seen her before. After a few seconds, you could tell out of the corner of your eye that she hadn't moved, so you glanced her way again. She was looking intently at Noah, and you could feel goosebumps tingle along the back of your neck. 

The woman took out her phone, and you tried to slow the swing down and block her view of Noah, but then you felt apprehensive about turning your back toward her. The swings were too far away from your car. The picnic tables were blocking your path. 

"Let's go down the slide," you told Noah quickly, scooping him out of the swing as he complained and asked you to push him more. 

When you turned back to check, the woman had started to walk along the swings, closer to the slide as you helped Noah climb up. Suddenly you felt unsafe. The park was nearly empty. That guy with the toddler was gone now. Your heart rate picked up.   

You pushed Noah down the slide and then ran to help catch him at the bottom. And now the woman was creeping even closer with her phone out.  

"Again!" he chanted. With a deep breath, you walked him back to the ladder, helped him climb, and then made a quick decision. You had your phone and keys in your pocket, and you could leave the cooler behind. When you scooped him up at the bottom of the slide, you wrapped your arms around him and made a quick dash toward your car. 

It was a good distance away, and as soon as you started moving, you saw her moving too. She was rushing toward you now, but you had a clear shot at the parking lot. Your heart was thudding in your chest, and the feeling of panic that washed over you had you squeezing Noah closer. 

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking concerned as you ran as fast as you could with him in your arms. 

"It's okay," you gasped, glancing back to see that she was still right there. And now she was calling out to you. Ignoring what she was saying, you unlocked your car as you approached, nearly tripping on the curb as you flung your back door open. Your sunglasses slipped off, and you stepped on them, crunching them under your sneaker.

"Wait!" the woman called out. "It's okay!"

You shoved Noah a little roughly into his carseat, tightening the straps with one hand as you glanced over your shoulder and slammed the back door shut.

"Shit!" she called out, also nearly tripping over the curb. "I won't hurt him!" 

You needed to get in the car, but as you reached for your door, you tripped and landed on the pavement, and the searing pain that shot through your arm had you gasping. But you didn't have time to check yourself as this insane woman closed in on you.

"Stay the fuck away from me!" you screamed, realizing your pepper spray was sitting in your cup holder. You opened your door and climbed in, locking the doors and cranking the engine to life just as she approached Noah's window and cupped her hands to look inside your car. "You psycho!" you cried out, slamming your car into drive and peeling out of the parking lot.

You drove in the opposite direction of Bradley's house in case she tried to follow, but you didn't see anyone else pull out of the parking lot. When you glanced in your mirror at Noah, he looked like he was going to cry. 

"It's okay!" you tried to reassure him, but your own voice was shaking. "Let's sing." After you cleared your throat a few times, you led him in the dinosaur song that you and he made up last month, and that seemed to cheer him up and calm him down. 

You drove miles out of your way before you started to head back to Bradley's house. When you finally pulled into his driveway, you noticed that your right arm was scraped up and dripping blood, but at least Noah was safe. And as you carried him inside, firmly locking the door and leaning against it, you realized who that must have been.

----------------------------

Bradley was exhausted. He and Nat had been working with the simulation for hours. It was late, and he was starving, and he decided to skip the locker room and head right home. He wanted to see you and Noah, wanted to talk to you. If he didn't at least try to figure out what was happening with you, he was going to lose his mind. 

He wanted you. Noah already loved you. Of course, you'd be crazy to actually want to date Bradley, but he figured he should at least try. Test those waters with you. He couldn't ever remember being nervous that a woman might just want him around to hook up with. Although he supposed he could just keep doing that with you, if that's all you really wanted.

Bradley's stomach was growling as he tied his sleeves around his waist again. The sun had already set, and as he climbed into the Bronco, he scrolled through missed calls from Meredith and texted you. 

Be home soon.

You didn't respond, but his house wasn't too far from base, and you were probably playing with Noah. Maybe you'd be wearing your crown when he got back. Maybe you had made dinner. Maybe you'd kiss him when he got there. He found himself driving a little faster, smiling when your car in his driveway came into view.

But as soon as he unlocked the door and strolled into the kitchen, he knew something was wrong. Your back was tense, and you were coloring with your left hand. Noah was in his pajamas, and when he looked at Bradley his eyes lit up. But Bradley's gaze fell to your arm, and he rushed over to you. 

"What happened?" he asked, gently taking you by the wrist and examining you. "Tell me."

You looked at him, lips parted, but you remained silent for a beat. "I fell."

"You fell?" he asked, wondering why your voice sounded so strange.You looked tired and worried, but Noah was okay. And your arm looked like it would heal eventually. "Baby, tell me what happened." He was kneeling on the floor next to your seat, and you nodded slightly as he kissed your cheek.

"After Noah gets in bed," you whispered. "I'll tell you."

"Sure," Bradley replied, still worried as he scooped his son up and took him to the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he got him tucked in bed, Bradley kissed his forehead. "Go right to sleep, bub. I love you."

Noah looked at him with wide eyes as he turned on the nightlight. Bradley rubbed his shoulder as his eyes finally started to drift closed, and then he was dashing back out to the kitchen. You were washing dishes with one good arm, and Bradley reached around you to take the plate out of your hand and turn the faucet off. 

"Hey, don't worry about that, Princess," he whispered, turning you gently to face him. "What happened?"

You finally met his eyes. He pressed his lips to yours, but you didn't return the kiss. Bradley pulled away and examined your arm again. He needed to get you cleaned up, get the dirt out of the wound. "Will you talk to me?" he asked.

You cleared your throat and asked, "What does Meredith look like?"

Bradley cocked his head a bit but described his ex to you. The look in your eyes was making him nervous as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "I have a picture of her," he told you, scrolling through a photo album. "She's in the first picture I ever took of Noah. So I saved it." When Bradley held his phone out for you, he saw you swallow hard before meeting his eyes again.

"I took Noah to the park," you whispered. "After I picked him up from daycare. And there was a woman there. She kept looking at Noah. Looked like she was trying to take his picture."

"Shit," Bradley gasped, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You nodded. "She made me nervous. Really upset me. So I grabbed Noah and ran for my car. After I got Noah in, I tripped and fell when I was trying to get the driver's door open. I guess I fucked up my arm pretty good. But I sped out of the parking lot away from her. Away from Meredith."

You had protected Noah. From his own mother. What the hell was Meredith doing?

Bradley pushed your hair back away from your face and examined your eyes. You looked upset but not like you were in shock. He let his fingers drift down to your neck and found your pulse was slightly elevated but not erratic. "I'm okay," you told him softly. "Promise."

He kissed your forehead, inhaling your scent. "Let me get your arm cleaned up, Princess." 

------------------------

You sat on the edge of Bradley's bathtub as he knelt on the floor and very gently and patiently cleaned your arm. You watched silently as he used tweezers to remove bits of asphalt from your skin before guiding you back so he could rinse your arm.

"You would make a good nurse," you muttered, and he glanced up at you. 

"Well, that means a lot coming from you," he replied, kissing your fingers before he guided your arm back under the water. "I'm sure you would have done a better job if it wasn't your dominant arm."

You just shrugged as he carefully dried you off and wrapped your arm up in gauze. Neither of you were smiling. He stood and gently helped you to your feet as well, and you buried your face into his warm neck and chest, trying to hold back tears. Because you knew without a doubt that the conversation you and Bradley were supposed to have tonight wouldn't be happening now. 

"Princess," he whispered, and your eyes fluttered closed as his mustache brushed your cheek. "I need to call Meredith."

You nodded, inhaling the smell of sweat and jet fuel from his skin. You liked to think he had skipped the showers so he could rush home to see you. You liked to think he missed you as much as he missed Noah when you weren't around. You wanted to hold onto that.

"I understand," you promised, letting your fingers settle on his abs for a beat before you turned to leave the bathroom. You felt like crying as you sat on the couch and tried to clumsily put your shoes on. But Bradley helped you, looking up at you with a serious expression.

"Thank you."

"For what?" you asked. All you had managed to do was get hurt and turn into an emotional mess over knowing Meredith had been the one to scare you at the park. You felt like an idiot.

"Thank you for protecting Noah, Princess," he replied, rubbing soft circles in your calves through your scrubs. "You don't know what that means to me." 

It was hard to believe that earlier this morning, you and he had been fucking in your bedroom. You leaned forward to kiss him, and he reached up to pull you gently to the floor onto his lap. Very carefully, Bradley helped you wrap your arms around his neck, and he kissed you for a while. 

When he pressed his forehead to yours and stood with you in his arms, you cautiously asked him, "Will you call me?"

"Of course." 

Bradley walked you out to your car and retrieved Noah's carseat. Then he kissed you goodbye as he made you promise to text him when you got home. 

--------------------------

Bradley sat on his couch, running his fingers through his hair. Meredith was apparently hanging around his neighborhood. You got hurt. Noah could have been hurt. Bradley needed to figure this out.

As soon as your text came through, he sighed.

Babysitter: I'm safe at home. I miss you already. You and Noah.

Instead of responding to you like he wanted to, Bradley squared his shoulders and looked at his missed calls. When he tapped on Meredith's name, she answered almost immediately, and Bradley's anger flared inside him.

"Well," she said with a laugh, "I figured I had your attention now. Thank you so much for calling me back, Bradley."

"Meredith," he muttered through clenched teeth. "What do you want?"

"I just want to talk to you. In person. I'll come by in the morning."

-----------------------

She's going to come by in the morning!! Ahhh! Enjoy your babysitter fic which you help me write, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 13

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[polo-drone-001]

Yo, bros, it’s Ezan here. Just another day flexin’ my golden drip and lookin' like the goddamn king of winter. 🏆💪 Yeah, it’s snowin’, but do I feel cold? Nah, bro. I got this shiny puffer jacket keepin’ me warm, and by warm, I mean hotter than anyone else on these streets. Like, check me out. Gold tracksuit, bags full of gains, uh, I mean shopping, straight outta Bussy. Heads turn, jaws drop. Happens all the time, bro.

Stopped by a café after my legendary haul, 'cause even kings need a break, right? Grabbed myself a hot coffee, sat outside, let the snow hit while I just… glowed. People couldn’t stop staring, and can you blame 'em? I mean, look at me. The puffer gleams like liquid gold, my abs are poppin’ even through layers, and my face? Bruh, it’s supermodel-level.

Some guy tried to take a pic of me, but I just smirked. Can’t capture perfection, bro, it’s a vibe. Transformation? Yeah, I’m livin’ it. From the gym to the streets, it’s all about the glow-up. So, here’s the lesson, bros: If you ain’t shining like me, you better hit that grind. Gold isn’t just a color, it’s a lifestyle. Later, nerds. 💛✨

Join us, contact me @polo-drone-001, or @brodygold @goldenherc9

[cdeeznutzz]

CD Finds - March 2024

I’m STOKED w my haul this month!!! I bagged some really good CDs which I'm SO happy ab like the “Helena” single by My Chemical Romance, I’ve been wanting it for AGES!!!! :D Since I'm currently on half term and will continue to be for the first week of April, I'm hoping to do loads of charity shopping and hopefully getting other cool CDs to showcase next month!

Which of these CDs is your favourite?

[s0wh4t1f1l1ft]

hello^ I just wanted to ask, I have no problem with pencils or even medium sized products but when it comes to collections and bigger products, I don’t know how to do it can you give me some advice please ? Thank you in advance :)

for the şèpħøřª and üłțä haul i just posted i have a medium sized structured bag, i carry it on the same arm as a shopping bag. when i go to l1ft i always plan to purchase at least one thing and theyre less sussed out when someone comes in a grabs a bag (think ab how associates will ask if u need a bag when the think ur lifting) and actually buys things. i either put things into the shopping bag and then go to a blind spot and conceal everything or ill put somethings into the shopping bag to conceal later and then some into my purse making it look like im putting it in the shopping bag. just remember to always act like a regular customer, be nice be confident, check prices, swatch makeup, look for rfids!!!

[mariacallous]

Love it or hate it, you have to admit Temu had a banger year. Launched in late 2022, the Chinese-owned ecommerce site, known for selling a vast array of astonishingly affordable goods, took only two years to become a household name in the US. Over the past 12 months, it has topped download charts, surpassing other viral apps like ChatGPT and Threads, and now operates in dozens of countries around the world. Even its biggest rival, Amazon, recently introduced a Temu clone called Amazon Haul that closely resembles the original, both in terms of its logistics supply chain and user interface.

Temu is projected to earn more than $50 billion in total sales this year, according to analysts from AB Bernstein and Tech Buzz China, potentially tripling its 2023 figure. Temu’s website now gets nearly 700 million visits worldwide every month, and Apple recently revealed it was the most downloaded app of 2024 on iPhones in the US.

Temu has now fully replaced Wish, an earlier bargain online shopping site, in the cultural lexicon as the signifier of knockoffs or budget-friendly alternatives. The winner of the recent Timothée Chalamet lookalike contest in New York City, for example, calls himself “Temu-thée Chalamet.” Tens of millions of ordinary people have tried out the app, many of whom learned about it through one of Temu’s seemingly unavoidable and relentless advertising campaigns. At this point, your grandma is probably obsessed with Temu, too.

“My friends and family members who didn't know what it was in 2023 do now,” says Moira Weigel, an assistant professor at Harvard University who studies transnational online marketplaces. “Random relatives who know that I study China or ecommerce will say, ‘Oh, you must know all about Temu,’ in a way that didn’t happen a year ago.”

Weigel says that Temu has done a few things right, including identifying the correct suppliers in China, targeting appropriate customer segments, and finding an inexpensive way to ship products from one to the other. That allowed the shopping platform to defy early analyst predictions that it would quickly burn through its cash reserves and flame out.

Temu, which is owned by PDD, one of the biggest ecommerce giants in China, is moving and pivoting at a speed that its Western counterparts can’t really grasp, says Juozas Kaziukėnas, founder of the ecommerce intelligence firm Marketplace Pulse. “When you look at a company like Temu, it's going a thousand miles an hour,” he says.

Kaziukėnas believes the most important thing Temu did this year was quickly switch its focus away from shipping small packages through air cargo and start building local inventory supply chains in the US and other countries. “This year, it started with 100 percent of goods coming from China; now in the US, 50 percent of them are coming from local warehouses. For Western marketplaces, these types of changes would have taken years,” Kaziukėnas says.

Still, Temu does not have a shortage of looming challenges. In the US, the Biden administration is eager to dismantle a tariff exemption rule that critics say unfairly benefits Temu before it leaves the White House. In Europe, Temu is under formal investigation for allegedly selling illegal products and getting users addicted to its app. The company is also often criticized around the world for its negative environmental impact, labor practices, and alleged misuse of user data, including allegations from researchers in the US that the app poses a national security risk.

Whether Temu can overcome these hurdles will depend on how fast the company can adjust its supply chain and pivot away from the most troublesome aspects of how it operates—before regulators take action. “What Temu was, is, and what Temu will be in the future are perhaps different things,” Kaziukėnas says.

From $1 Deals to Dupes

Temu made its name by promoting dirt-cheap deals that are often too good to believe, like $5 purses and $2 wireless headphones. It spent millions promoting the tagline “shop like a billionaire” in a series of Super Bowl advertisements, and that’s indeed what the app used to feel like: Identical or very similar products cost only a fraction of what they did on Amazon or Walmart, and it was hard to resist the temptation of adding a dozen more things to your shopping cart when they each were less than $1.

Temu managed to pull it off because it exploited a few areas of untapped potential, says Weigel. On the buyer side, it targeted price-conscious shoppers living in a time of high inflation. On the seller side, it scouted out Chinese factories that needed to keep their production lines running, but had no idea how to enter overseas markets. To connect them, Temu figured out it could take advantage of the so-called de minimis rule to send items affordably through air cargo directly to customers’ doorsteps. The provision allows people to send packages to the US duty-free as long as the goods inside are worth less than $800.

Because this business model is based on shipping everything from China and doesn’t require much local inventory, it’s very easy to replicate in different markets. As of December 2024, Temu’s website shows that it’s available in 86 countries, while Amazon, having been in business for three decades, operates in only 22. “In recent history, like the past 10 to 15 years, the first place people were interested in selling is the US and Europe, because they're large markets, prices can be higher, and so on,” says Weigel, who traveled to China this year to interview vendors selling on Amazon and Temu. “Now, there is increasing interest among these small-to-medium-size Chinese businesses in expanding in Africa, Southeast Asia, and also Central Asia … Multiple people talk to me about how young and rapidly growing the population in Africa is.”

But that doesn’t mean Temu is totally different from Amazon. In fact, the company has begun borrowing a number of tactics from the US ecommerce giant. In March, Temu reportedly started working with local warehousing companies in the US and allowing vendors on the platform to store their own US inventory instead of shipping directly from China. This is essentially what Amazon has been doing for years with its Chinese-based marketplace sellers, a strategy that allows it to deliver orders in as little as a single day. And now, these locally shipped products account for nearly half of Temu’s sales in the US, according to The Information.

What this means is that many of the products Temu sells are no longer exempt from American import duties, significantly reducing the price advantage that Temu used to have. But the strategy allows Temu to ship physically larger items to US warehouses through ocean freight before putting them up for sale, and then, the products can be delivered faster to customers, who previously often needed to wait a week or more for their packages to arrive.

That is why consumers are increasingly buying things like couches or other furniture on Temu, and also why sometimes prices on the site end up not being much lower than on Amazon or other online retailers. “I think it's pretty clear that Temu is becoming a more expensive offering,” says Kaziukėnas. “I talked to someone at Temu months ago, and they said that they're repositioning Temu from cheap to affordable.”

Higher prices can help recoup some of the financial losses that Temu incurred in its earlier days when it was primarily focused on expansion, but it could also create an identity crisis for the platform. If it doesn’t have shocking $1 deals, then what does Temu really stand for? How can it compete with Amazon and Walmart when the other two are often perceived as more reliable, both in terms of shipping speed and product quality? “I think that’s a problem for Temu already, that it doesn't really have a strong brand to consumers,” Kaziukėnas says.

Lingerings Risks—and Rewards

The days might be numbered for the de minimis exemption. The White House announced in September that it would crack down on “abuse” of the provision, citing a sleuth of reasons ranging from intellectual property violations to fentanyl smuggling. It’s not clear yet how exactly the regulation might change—lawmakers may get rid of it completely or lower the price threshold—but a fix could be finalized before president-elect Donald Trump takes office next month.

If it happens soon, the change will no doubt make it harder for Temu to remain competitive, but it’s not going to eliminate it from the field. So much of the conversation in Washington this year has revolved around restricting de minimis to contain Temu, Kaziukėnas says, but the platform has already taken significant steps to reduce its dependence on it. Its ability to ship under de minimis and handle everything from inventory to pricing used to be the main selling points Temu used to lure Chinese suppliers, but now, it’s doing a 180 to address the risks—and the strategy seems to be working. “The regulators are still only now trying to figure out what to do. And by the time they have figured out what they actually need to do, these retailers will be something different,” Kaziukėnas says, referring to Temu and competitors like Shein that rely on de minimis.

Of course, there are other risks that the company needs to address. What TikTok is going through right now—the app could be blocked in the US as soon as next month—should serve as a cautionary tale for Temu, as the latter is already receiving similar scrutiny from lawmakers over its Chinese ownership and data protection practices.

The possibility of being blocked in the US is real for Temu, but Weigel points out that there’s less of a political urgency to act on an ecommerce platform than a social media one that has elicited concerns about things like artificial intelligence and disinformation. “​​While there is a bipartisan consensus that people are concerned with the implications of China's tech rise, the incentives to police Temu are lower than TikTok,” she says. The Chinese ecommerce vendors she has spoken to don’t seem very concerned either. “These people are very nimble and flexible. My sense was that it was a thing people were curious about, but not something they were afraid about,” Weigel says.

After all, Temu’s aggressive expansion into other markets gives them plenty of alternative places to find customers if things get really ugly between the US and China. On a recent trip to Shenzhen, Weigel says she met a woman who heads a cross-border ecommerce industry association. One of the first things she told Weigel: “We don’t necessarily make the American and the European markets our top priority.”

[sirhenrys-blog]

Whispers of willows bend Part 1

Part 1

Willow Bend drowsed beneath a late August sky, a small town cradled by rolling hills and a sluggish river that glinted like molten glass in the fading light. It wasn’t so tiny that every breath was tracked, but with a population hovering around a thousand, secrets didn’t stay buried long—gossip flowed through the diner’s screen door, crackled over the gas station’s gravel lot, and hummed in the barbershop’s steady clip. Clapboard houses lined the streets, porches sagging under rocking chairs and geraniums, while the main drag offered a hardware store, a thrift shop, and Rusty’s dive bar, its neon sign flickering on Friday nights like a beacon for the restless.

Chloe, 22, was a petite blonde dynamo who’d grown up on Willow Bend’s fringes, where cul-de-sacs melted into overgrown lots. At 5’2”, her tousled waves shimmered gold, messy like she’d just rolled out of bed, framing hazel eyes that sparkled with mischief. Her body was a compact hourglass—perky boobs strained her crop tops, nipples teasing the fabric in a breeze; a tiny waist flared into hips that swayed, and a juicy bum, round and plush, filled her denim cut-offs like a tease. The only daughter of a high school teacher and a mechanic, she’d honed her charm early—flirting for free ice cream at the mall, dodging chores with a smile. Post-high school, she skipped college for a gig at the thrift shop, peddling vintage tees and batting lashes for tips, her restless spirit chafing against the town’s sleepy pulse.

Angel, 23, was the tall, blond rebel who’d washed up where lawns gave way to scrappy fields. At 6’2”, his slim, muscular frame was all lean definition—broad shoulders, corded arms from hauling kegs at Rusty’s, abs rippling under sun-bronzed skin. His blond hair flopped into piercing blue eyes, a tousled mop over a sharp, defined jaw dusted with stubble, his lazy smile a quiet danger. His 7-inch dick—thick, veined—bulged in his jeans when roused. Born to a single mom who worked doubles at the county hospital, he’d grown up fixing cars with street kids, sneaking into pool halls with a fake ID. After high school, he drifted—lifeguarding, bartending—chasing thrills with a cool confidence that turned heads.

Chloe had James, her boyfriend of a year—stocky, dark-haired, a mechanic with oil-stained hands and a steady grin, the kind of guy who’d fix your flat tire and call it a date. Angel had Damond, his boyfriend of eight months—lean, tattooed, a line cook at the diner with a quick laugh and a jealous edge. To Willow Bend, they were settled pairs, orbiting the town’s predictable rhythm. But beneath it all, Chloe and Angel had sparked a secret that burned hotter than the summer sun.

Chloe’s days unfolded in a haze of thrift shop dust and James’ steady presence. She’d clock in at 10, sorting faded flannel and cracked vinyl, her red crop top riding up as she stretched to hang dresses, her cut-offs hugging her bum. James would swing by on his lunch break, his garage jumpsuit unzipped to the waist, dark hair damp with sweat. “Hey, babe,” he’d say, leaning over the counter, kissing her cheek with lips that tasted of engine grease and coffee. She’d smile, playful, “You stink,” pushing him off, but let him linger, his solidity a comfort she’d grown used to. At home, they’d sprawl on his couch—her in his lap, his thick hands on her hips—watching reruns, his laughter rumbling as she teased him about his snore. Sex was routine—him on top, her beneath, steady thrusts in his twin bed, her moans soft, his groans quick. It was safe, predictable, but lately, her mind wandered, hazel eyes glazing over as James slept beside her, his arm heavy across her waist.

Angel’s life spun around Rusty’s sticky floors and Damond’s sharp edges. He’d start his shift at dusk, pouring beers with a practiced tilt, his tight tee clinging to his defined torso, jeans low enough to hint at the V of his pelvis. Damond would drop by after the diner, ink peeking from his sleeves, leaning on the bar with a grin, “Miss me, blondie?” Angel would smirk, sliding him a whiskey, their fingers brushing—a spark, once thrilling, now dim. Nights ended at Damond’s trailer, a tangle of sheets and tattoos—Damond’s lean frame pinning Angel’s, his mouth rough on Angel’s neck, their sex fast, urgent, Damond’s groans loud as Angel thrust back, his blue eyes distant. They’d smoke afterward, Damond’s arm slung over Angel’s chest, but Angel’s thoughts drifted—to a petite blonde he couldn’t shake.

Their affair ignited one June night at Rusty’s, humidity thick with beer and jukebox twang. Chloe, in her red crop top and cut-offs, leaned over the bar, teasing Angel for a free shot. He grinned, pouring tequila slow, blue eyes locking on hers as she licked salt off her wrist, tongue flicking, his jeans tightening at the sight. James was out back with buddies; Damond was off. Three shots later, they stumbled into the alley—her petite frame pressed to the brick, his tall body caging her. His hands gripped her hips, lifting her, her legs wrapping his waist as their mouths crashed—hot, sloppy, tasting liquor and sin. She tugged his shirt off, nails raking his abs, his 7-inch cock freed as she shoved his jeans down, guiding him inside her tight heat. He thrust hard, her juicy bum slapping the wall, her perky boobs bouncing under her top, nipples stiff as she moaned, loud and shameless, the risk fueling their frenzy. His defined muscles flexed, sweat beading down his spine, her small body arching as he filled her, cum spilling on her thigh as they panted—a quick, dirty hookup, nothing more.

Chloe’s mornings after were a dance of normalcy. She’d brew coffee in James’ cramped kitchen, her sundress slipping off one shoulder, humming as he shuffled in, boxers low, kissing her neck. “Late night?” he’d ask, voice gruff, and she’d shrug, “Shop stuff,” her smile tight. At work, she’d rearrange racks, her fingers lingering on a plaid shirt Angel had worn, her mind replaying his hands on her bum, his cock stretching her. James would text—“Dinner at mine?”—and she’d reply, “Sure,” guilt gnawing as she pictured Angel’s blue eyes, not James’ brown.

Angel’s days were a blur of bar prep and Damond’s shadow. He’d sleep late, sprawled in Damond’s trailer, waking to stale smoke and Damond’s note—“See ya tonight.” He’d hit the gym, lifting weights shirtless, his abs rippling, mind flashing to Chloe’s moans, not Damond’s laugh. At Rusty’s, he’d mix drinks, his lean arms flexing, Damond watching from a stool, possessive— “You’re mine, right?” Angel’s “Yeah” was hollow, his pulse quickening when Chloe walked in, her hips swaying, James nowhere near.

Two weeks later, Chloe texted Angel from the diner’s bathroom, Damond flipping burgers outside. He locked the door, his tall frame looming as she hopped onto the sink, cut-offs yanked down, soaked panties clinging. She freed his thick cock, guiding him in—her legs dangled, toes brushing tiles, his hands lifting her petite body, pinning her to the mirror. He thrust slow, savoring her tightness, her bum smacking porcelain, then faster—her boobs jiggling, nipples pink under her lifted top, her nails digging into his muscled back. The mirror rattled, her gasps loud, his grunts primal—he pulled out, cum streaking her thigh as they panted, Damond yards away, oblivious.

Chloe’s routine frayed—James noticed her distracted glances, “You okay, babe?” over burgers at the diner, her “Yeah” too quick. She’d dodge his hands at night, feigning sleep, her body tingling with Angel’s memory. Angel’s nights grew tense—Damond’s “Where you been?” sharper, his kisses rougher, Angel’s responses curt as he showered off Chloe’s scent, blue eyes distant in the steam.

August brought more—behind the hardware store, Angel bent Chloe over a crate, her cut-offs at her ankles, his jeans down, thrusting deep, her juicy bum rippling, boobs swaying as she gripped wood, moaning his name. In his truck bed under a tarp, she rode him—her petite frame bouncing, his 7-inch cock stretching her, his hands squeezing her bum, abs flexing as she soaked his lap. Their bodies were a visual clash—her tiny curves against his lean muscle, blond hair tangling, blue eyes piercing hazel, sweat and cum a sticky bond.

Then came the shift. One sticky night in Angel’s truck by the river, Chloe straddled him, cut-offs tossed aside, his jeans at his knees. His thick cock slid in, her tight heat gripping as she rocked—boobs bouncing free, nipples stiff, his hands kneading her plush bum. She kissed him deep—slow, tasting beer and him—his groan, “Fuck, Chloe,” soft, her “Angel” a whisper, their eyes locked, a spark beyond lust. They came—her shuddering, soaking him, him spilling inside, hot and pulsing—their foreheads pressed, breaths shared, a quiet too tender to ignore.

Chloe’s days grew heavy—James planned a camping trip, “Just us,” his grin hopeful, her nod forced, heart racing at Angel’s texts. Angel’s shifts at Rusty’s strained—Damond’s “You’re off lately,” met with shrugs, his mind on Chloe’s lips, not Damond’s hands. At the thrift shop after hours, Chloe bent over a table, Angel behind—her cut-offs down, his jeans off, thrusting deep, her bum rippling, boobs swaying, her moans a prayer. He kissed her neck, sucking a hickey, “You feel so good,” raw—not just lust. She kissed back, lingering, and they sat afterward—her in his lap, his arms around her, talking till dawn, love creeping in.

Whispers spread—James saw Chloe’s hickey, “Who?” his voice tight, her “No one” weak. Damond caught Angel staring at Chloe, his “What’s up?” sharp, Angel’s silence damning. Mrs. Larson saw them at the jukebox, Pete heard moans by the river. September snapped it open.

At Miller’s old barn, Chloe in a sundress—no bra, panties damp—met Angel, shirtless, jeans low, sweat gleaming on his abs. They crashed—her leaping into his arms, legs wrapping him, his hands cupping her bum, pressing her to a beam. He yanked her dress up, ripped panties aside, his 7-inch cock thrusting in—her tightness sucking him deep, her boobs bouncing free, nipples grazing his chest. He fucked her hard—beam creaking, bum slapping his thighs, abs clenching, sweat dripping. She clawed his back, tongue in his mouth, “I love you,” gasping mid-thrust. He froze, then thrust deeper, “Love you too,” breaking. She rode him—legs wide, bum bouncing, his cock stretching her, slick and hot—her screaming, soaking him, his cum pulsing inside, tears mixing with sweat.

The door creaked—James and Damond, James’ wrench dropping, Damond’s jaw tight. “You liar!” James roared, punching Angel—blood sprayed. Damond grabbed Chloe, “What the hell?!” shaking her, dress hiked. She broke free, “I love him!” sobbing. Townsfolk gathered—phones out, gossip blazing. James and Damond stormed off, cursing, the affair a wildfire.

In the barn, locked, clothes torn—her dress ripped, his jeans shredded—they stood naked, bruised—Angel’s lip bleeding, Chloe’s wrist red. He pulled her close, his tall frame engulfing her, hands tracing her curves, boobs pressing his chest. “No more hiding,” he whispered, kissing her slow, tasting blood. She nodded, “Just us,” tears falling, lips tender. They sank to the hay—his arms around her, her head on his chest, legs tangled—her bum nestled against him, his abs under her palm. “Love you,” he murmured, lips in her hair, “Love you,” she echoed, raw. Darkness cloaked them, heartbeats syncing, naked and free.

[aezuria]

HI STELLAAAA i wanna hear ab ur vacation how was it!!!! only if u want to ofc i love hearing ab ppls vacays sm 😚😚

SIAAAAA omg ofc i want to !!! 🤭

okay so first we stayed at my relatives place?? its like land that was passed down in our extended fam and its a whole alley of houses so we stayed in an empty one !

then we took a side trip to japan and OMG i took so many cute pics (abt that digicam... i barely used it oops 😭😭) cs i didnt wanna keep taking it out and it took a whie to turn on and i js used my phone LMAO also i did not see airport guy when i was coming back from japan ☹️☹️

after that we went back to the ph and went to cebu and bohol w my cousin !! we went island hopping and snorkeling and it was SO FUN except it was low tide so i kept hitting my feet on the rocks and when i tell u it HURT

ok so this part is kinda funny but it was TERRIBLE when it happened 😬 sooo at bohol we stayed at this cute beachside resort but like as soon as i got there i was so tired cs we had to wake up SO SO EARLY like 3AM bro and then i got food poisoning or smth and it was so hot and humid and it was js the worst thing EVER 0/10 would not recommend i threw up like 5 times in 2 days

but after i was still feeling kinda iffy but it was the last day so i went swimming and it lowk healed me LMAO didnt throw up after that 😘😘

then we went back to our place in the ph and did some last minute shopping at the mega mall (like a day before we were abt to leave leave) and i bought SO MUCH i did a whole haul and everythinggg 😍

and YEA sorry thats like a whole essay 😭😭 how is YOUR summer going???

[heelbucks]

I neeed you to do a smutty ass Christian x girly kinky reader imagine based on this. Pleasssee😩💗

this photo is doing things to me i wanna lick his abs

sugar daddy! christian cage x princess! girly! reader

you rushed home from your little shopping spree christian sent you on. “you deserve it princess, let me spoil you.” you had left on a special surprise on for. him under your short skirt and cute top. ‘lemme see what daddy bought you princess.” he said to you as you walked to his office.

you did a little haul of the barbie and hello kitty things you bought for yourself and then ushered him to sit in his office chair. you spun around, your skirt was flying up, giving him a peak of the lacey lingerie you hid from him. “oooh whatcha got on? did i buy this for you?” you nodded your head as you peeled your top off. next thing you knew you were on your knees in front of the older man, reaching out for his cock.

“fuck princess, juust like that. you’re doing so good for me, daddy trained you well huh?” your sugar daddy moaned from above you, on your knees in a pretty pink lingerie set he had bought for you. one hand wrapped itself in your hair to guide you further down his length while the other grabbed his phone to snap a picture. “good fuckin girl.”

[screampied]

hayoooo vaygus 💋💋💋

i’m glad da hear that you got some rest 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼!! omagaaaaa vinyls 😈😈, which one did you buy ? and plant food ?😭😭i didn’t know it existed 😨

i had a good day although tiring, but when i got home i changed the sheets, vacuumed and cleaned my room then showered and settled in my bed with my pou (lol idk if you see but the game pou (i bought a doll of it recently…impulse purchasing they say 😞😞) and then enjoyed some free time after all the exams🤞🏼🤞🏼

wouuuuyh, an actor seems so kewl and it suits you really good ☝🏼☝🏼 i have interest toward medicine too but the studies are so hard and long 😪😭😭 like i find the anatomy and just the medical sector so fascinating in general so i aspire to be a surgeon one day 🤷🏻‍♀️

otherwise, i’d reeeeeeally like to have a vlog channel (or a channel in general on ytb) and so TRAVEL. the first dream on my bucket list is to travel allllll around the world and also film it bc i loooove editing and stuff. i also would like to write more on tumblr specially in english, so, my other dream is to be bilingual 💆🏻‍♀️💆🏻‍♀️💆🏻‍♀️ and to keep on with tumblr, having a community on it would be a must ,LIKE, having anons or ppl talking and sharing their life seems so kewl too 🌚🌚 and i think it’s gutch for nowww

off topic but, what are you 3 top song of the moment? for me, the songs i have on repeat are :

-astrology, kali uchis (unreleased)

-she’s my collar, gorillaz ft kali uchis 🌚

-low, sza

those songs are playing on repeat rent free in ma head 👨🏻‍🦲👨🏻‍🦲👨🏻‍🦲also off topic but you really gimme SZA vibes ???? (/pos ofc)

well bye bye (i wrote a whole essay sorry😭😭😭) have a good day, day at work, a good night and dreams 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼!

-🌟

helloooowww star 👨🏽‍💻💓

hehe yessss, i love anything vintage related so i have a lil vinyl collection — mostly the vinyls hang around my room and the rest i play while i work or write >.< i got the demon days vinyl by gorillaz and a night at the opera by queen, two of my fav bands of all time 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ i wanna get a tame impala vinyl too bc currents is prob my favvv album ever

lel yes 🧘‍♀️ i have a venus flytrap and it basically eats bugs and stuff like that. its near my garden, plant food in general i usually buy things like miracle gro n stuff !!

i’m glad u had a good day tho !!!! my day was okay, yesterday i basically stayed inside and did nothing. i’m gonna visit some campuses later today maybe and i have a piercing appointment today also 🙂‍↕️ LOOK AT UUUU being productive 🤞🏽 this is inspiring me to do spring cleaning today (is it still spring aha) so thank u !! <3 aw i remember pou, i used to stave mine bc i forgot ab it. poor bb

ooooo a vlog channel would be so nice !!!! 💓 i kinda wanted to do smth like that too, like it could help w my speaking bc i hate speaking but its soothing to record urself and just talk yk? doing grwms or shopping hauls would be soooo cute. and same i wanna travel too, i hope to visit the states one day (im from the carribbean) but i wouldn’t know where i wanna go first :0

THANKKK YOU 💖 i know right, i kinda backed out of medicine bc of the long years of school you need for it. im okay w my current career path but imagining me as a neurosurgeon would be kinda cool 🙂‍↕️ it was greys anatomy that even made me so interested in medicine LMAO. ik how the show is nothing like irl but i loveee greys n had a little doctor phase for a while heh. but i wish u luck on ur writing + bilingual journey !!!! you got this my friend mwah mwah

top three fav songs would be — dark vacay by cigarettes after sex, pyramids by frank ocean, and evil by melanie martinez

ITS OKKAAY i always appreciate whenever u stop by 💓💓 you too love have a good day !! BISSOUS 💋

[felixalbright]

FELIX ALBRIGHT

full name: felix james albright

pronouns & gender: he/him, cis man

birthday & birthplace: april 27, 1992 (31); aurora bay, ca

location: fisher's cove

time in aurora bay: born & raised, back as of a few weeks ago

sexuality: gay

occupation: music journalist/photographer at rolling stone

@aurorabayaesthetic

about.

felix was born and raised in AB, the youngest of three to two parents whose marriage was already crumbling by the time their first child was born. god knows why they stayed together or had two more kids, but they did, and they were at least decent enough people to try to keep the realities of their dissolving marriage away from their children as much as possible. they got divorced when felix was seven, and his mom moved home to london while his dad stayed home with the kids in AB.

so felix grew up being shuttled back and forth between AB and london a few times a year; he'd go see his mom for the summers and christmases and come back for the school year. his mom moving so far away did create a bit of a resentment in him that he doesn't talk about with anyone except his therapist, but it also sparked an inspiration that would carry him throughout his life.

his mom was fully stay-at-home before the divorce, but when she went back to london she started up her career again as an events coordinator for a music promotion and production company that put on shows for local up-and-coming artists. felix spent most of his summers hauling sound equipment and standing in the wings of stages with his mom, listening to music.

he picked up guitar and piano early on, but he realized easily enough that he wasn't meant to be a musician, so he started writing about it instead. when he was a kid, it started with emotions or images the music would evoke, but as he got older the writing matured and he realized that he actually had a talent for this kind of thing. his first byline appeared in a local zine in his mom's neighborhood in london when he was 14, covering a punk show he was way too young to be at and managing to score an interview with the band because they thought his precociousness was cute.

when he was home in AB, he was going out to LA to see shows as soon as he was old enough to drive. he started a blog that no one read, wrote for a little student-led music magazine that only printed 10 copies on black and white school printers (they thought it would make them seem more exclusive, but really no one had heard about it/actually wanted to read it). he used all of that to shop himself, freelance, to any publication that might have him while omitting his age. he actually got a few things in with some smaller names, and it was more than enough to keep him motivated.

his family didn't have a ton of money, so he stayed home and went to college in AB, studying english. it wasn't a perfect fit, but it gave him an excuse to stay writing all the time and to hone his voice. he kept freelancing throughout college and DJ’ed on campus radio, and his big writing break came when he was 21, with an opportunity to cover the strokes at a show in LA for rolling stone, after an editor had seen and liked his work for another site. the article, which followed the band over 24 hours, was a hit, and he got a couple more opportunities with rolling stone before he graduated college.

after graduation, he had a job offer with the magazine and took it without a second thought. he moved to LA full time but was only there for a cumulative few months out a year. his other home base was in london, but he was traveling a lot.

he loved his life for a long time, but around the nine year mark he just started to get exhausted. he was doing what he loved, but he was burnt out and not coping with it well. he didn't want to quit, but he needed a very long break, so he asked for something like a sabbatical from the magazine, which they granted given his years of dedication and the fact that he'd never once taken a sick day.

he moved back home to aurora bay about two weeks ago, where he's staying in his childhood bedroom in fisher’s cove while he gets the outline of a book together.

tidbits.

felix is excitable and talkative, and incredibly interrogative. he's always been a huge talker and has needed to stay one in his line of work. he's charming and quick with a smile, but is also nosy as fuck if his attention is captured. but that attention, though easily caught, isn't easily held. he’s often very distractible within his personal life (which means he’s terrible at returning texts or following through on plans) but is very concerned with every small detail in his work life, which makes him a good writer but not always a fun person to work or deal with.

his favorite interview so far was with paul mccartney in liverpool. they did a walking tour of the city and paul bought felix a beatles t-shirt from a souvenir store that he now has framed in his office in LA.

at his family's house in fisher's cove, his dad still has a now 18 year old cat named fred that felix picked from the shelter when he was 14.

keeps a tiny apartment in the montmartre neighborhood in paris on top of the LA and london places, which he pays way too much for considering he only uses it a few times a year. he can count the number of people he's ever brought there on one hand. it's sort of a sacred space for him

he never officially came out to either of his parents, just started casually mentioning guys he was dating in college. he's never actually talked about his sexuality with either of them.

probably polyamorous, though he doesn't know if he'd use that label. he's never cheated but has had multiple partners at once since he left AB, while being transparent about the fact that he's not a guy for just one other guy. he still thinks that he could comfortably settle into a monogamous relationship if the right partner wanted one.

connections.

childhood rivals to close friends w/ @blake-michaels

college ex-boyfriend of @atticus-cortes

pseudo older brother of @cassidyxcooke, @dancingdanvers

friend/came up with/avid fan of @xaviermattthews, @consrose

high school friends who fell out w/ @theotanaka

[autistic-raven-onnagen]

What Diverts Pity?

cx yt?LN

That was Cat who sat on the keyboard. No. I won't be translating that! Scat! I may be a YT. But I'm not your 'LN'. So. Go get your 'LN' elsewhere. And don't you 'cx' me! Shoo!

I suspect Cat is Autistic. She often has shutdowns. She curls into a ball on my keyboard and will not move.

Hmm. Where was I before Cat hijacked my mental plane?

Ok. So. There's this new term. Darn. It's gone. I'm no good with long words. More's the pity. I'll back track. Maybe it'll come back to me. What's the last thing that stuck in my mind?

Peeli likes to lick his new row.

Oh, yeah! There's this long windy term — New Row Divers something! It means that some of us would rather lick our lips. Others of us would rather lick our fingers. Yet others prefer our chops. Or stamps. Bowls. Spoons. Ice blocks. Dew drops. Wounds. Boots. Whatever!

We're all different. And so are the new rows of our brains.

[No. Please, no. Do not lick anything like that! My analogy is anal. ]

Thing is, licking all our different things is not a disorder. So says Judy Singer. And she should know. She made up the term. What is it again? Something like new row diver sity. People heap praise on her. I don't know why. She can't spell 'city'!

One good thing — Judy Singer didn’t make new row diver city up for medical people. Or decision makers. She made it for us — the people. So we can cut the stereo types. There’s more to humanity than the ‘Normal’ them and ‘Abnormal’ us!

Altho. My abs have never been normal! And I’m ok with that.

So. What’s with them trying to make our abs look like theirs? It’s too hard. Who has the spoons to deal with that? We need all our spoons to deal with our own stuff! We’ve got a lot going on. It takes a lot to squeeze our stuff into words.

Thankfully. Judy Singer has given us this bit of short hand for the long haul. And people are learning. Everyone's new rows are different. There's no need to treat anyone as 'abnormal.' What we like to lick is our own business. Let's treat each other as, well, people.

Take Away: New row diver city is like any typical city. What is it with living in cities? People turn into animals! There's the bull in the china shop. There's the night owl. There's the cat's meow. The foxy lady. The elephant in the room. The dark horse. The one trick pony. The snake in the grass. The fly on the wall. The wild goose chase. The dog eating dog. The sleeping dogs. The wolf in sheep's clothing. The ducks in a row. The monkey's uncle. The guinea pig. The cockies. The galahs. The puppy love. And. There's nothing like a cute critter clip of them all to divert our pity!

In my next post, I’ll answer Elon’s question: Is it ok if I'm the only one having a whale of a time?

Feel free to put your queries about Autism in the Speech Bubble below.

Written on Ngarrindjeri Lands & Waters.

[i-55truckandtrailerrepair]

Top Truck Repair Issues and Solutions for Drivers in Heth, AR

Truck drivers in Heth, AR face numerous challenges on the road, from long hauls to unexpected breakdowns. To ensure your truck stays in optimal condition and reduces the risk of costly downtime, it's essential to be aware of the most common truck repair issues and how to address them. Whether you're driving locally or over long distances, regular maintenance and prompt repairs are crucial. In this blog, we'll cover some of the most common truck repair problems and offer solutions to keep you on the road.

1. Brake Problems

Brakes are one of the most critical components in any vehicle, especially for heavy-duty trucks. Common issues include worn-out brake pads, leaking brake fluid, or malfunctioning ABS systems. If you notice squeaking or grinding noises, reduced braking power, or warning lights, it’s time to schedule an appointment at a truck repair shop in Heth, AR.

Solution: Regular brake inspections and timely replacement of brake pads and fluids can prevent costly failures. If you're on the road and experience brake issues, a Mobile Truck Repair service can get you back to work quickly.

2. Tire Wear and Blowouts

Tire problems are another common issue for truck drivers. Uneven tire wear, under-inflation, and punctures can all lead to tire blowouts, which can be dangerous and costly. Regularly checking your tire pressure and condition is key to avoiding these problems.

Solution: Perform regular tire inspections and rotate your tires to ensure even wear. Keeping your tires inflated to the manufacturer's recommended pressure can also help prevent blowouts. If a blowout does happen, contact a truck repair shop near me or use a Mobile Truck Repair service for on-site assistance.

3. Electrical System Issues

The electrical system in a truck controls everything from the lights to the ignition. Common issues include dead batteries, faulty alternators, and malfunctioning lights. If you notice dim headlights or difficulty starting your truck, it’s likely an electrical problem.

Solution: Keep your battery connections clean and tight, and schedule regular inspections of your electrical system. If you're experiencing electrical issues on the road, call a Truck Repair Near Me service for a quick fix.

4. Engine Problems

Engine issues can range from minor sensor malfunctions to more significant problems like overheating or power loss. These issues can leave you stranded if not addressed promptly. Regular oil changes and coolant checks are essential for keeping your engine running smoothly.

Solution: Schedule regular engine maintenance at a Truck Repair Shop and keep an eye on any dashboard warning lights. If you experience engine trouble on the road, contact a Mobile Truck Repair service to prevent further damage.

5. Transmission Failures

Transmission issues are a common and expensive repair for truck drivers. Signs of transmission problems include slipping gears, delayed engagement, and unusual noises when shifting. Ignoring these signs can result in a complete transmission failure, leading to expensive repairs.

Solution: Regularly check your transmission fluid and address any leaks immediately. Having your transmission serviced at a Truck Repair Shop Near Me can prevent major problems. If you experience transmission issues while driving, a Mobile Truck Repair service can offer on-site diagnostics and temporary solutions.

FAQs About Truck Repair in Heth, AR

Q: How often should I schedule maintenance for my truck?A: It’s recommended to schedule maintenance every 10,000 to 15,000 miles, depending on how your truck is used. Regular maintenance can prevent costly repairs and ensure your truck operates efficiently.

Q: What should I do if my truck breaks down on the road?A: If your truck breaks down, contact a Mobile Truck Repair service. They can come to your location and perform repairs on-site, helping you avoid towing fees and getting you back on the road faster.

Q: What are the benefits of preventive maintenance?A: Preventive maintenance helps avoid major breakdowns, reduces repair costs, and keeps your truck running efficiently by catching small issues before they become big problems.

Q: Can I call a mobile repair service for minor issues?A: Absolutely! Mobile Truck Repair services can handle everything from minor issues like tire changes and battery replacements to more significant repairs like engine diagnostics and brake fixes.

Contact I-55 Truck & Trailer Repair for Truck Repair in Heth, AR

If you're a truck driver in Heth, AR, regular maintenance and prompt repairs are essential for keeping your vehicle road-ready. At I-55 Truck & Trailer Repair, we offer comprehensive services, including preventive maintenance, engine diagnostics, and emergency Mobile Truck Repair.

Address: 7468 I-55, Crawfordsville, AR 72327, United States

Phone: (870) 635-4003

Hours: Open 24/7, 7 Days Per Week

Keep your truck in peak condition and avoid costly breakdowns by scheduling your next service with I-55 Truck & Trailer Repair today!

[harrisonchery]

Top 5 Reasons to Choose the Tiggo 7 as Your Next Family SUV

When choosing a family SUV, it’s important to find the perfect balance between style, functionality, safety, and affordability. One standout option that offers all of these qualities is the Tiggo 7. 

Manufactured by Chery, a leading Chinese automaker, the Tiggo 7 is designed to meet the evolving needs of modern families. With its impressive features, sleek design, and competitive pricing, this SUV is fast becoming a favourite among families worldwide.

In this blog, let’s explore the top five reasons why the new Tiggo 7 pro should be at the top of your list when shopping for your next family SUV.

1. Spacious and Comfortable Interior

One of the primary concerns for any family vehicle is space, and the Tiggo 7 excels in this department. With ample room for both passengers and cargo, this SUV is designed to accommodate the demands of family life.

The Tiggo 7 offers seating for five with plenty of legroom and headroom, ensuring a comfortable ride for all passengers. The rear seats are foldable, allowing you to easily expand the trunk space when needed. This makes it perfect for family road trips, grocery hauls, or simply transporting the kids and their gear to school and sports events.

In addition, the Tiggo 7 comes with premium-quality materials and a thoughtfully designed cabin, offering a comfortable and luxurious environment. From its ergonomic seats to the soft-touch materials on the dashboard, the interior is crafted with attention to detail, providing both comfort and style.

2. Advanced Safety Features

Safety is a top priority for any family vehicle, and the Tiggo 7 takes this seriously. It is packed with cutting-edge safety features that provide peace of mind for parents and passengers alike. The advanced driver-assist systems and safety technologies are designed to prevent accidents and protect your loved ones.

Some of the key safety features include:

Anti-lock Braking System (ABS): Ensures that the brakes don’t lock up during sudden stops, reducing the risk of skidding.

Electronic Stability Control (ESC): Helps maintain control during slippery conditions or sharp turns by adjusting engine power and applying brakes to individual wheels.

Hill Start Assist: Prevents the vehicle from rolling backward when starting on an incline, making hill starts safer and easier.

Multiple Airbags: Front, side, and curtain airbags are standard, providing comprehensive protection in the event of a collision.

Rear Parking Sensors and Camera: These features make parking a breeze and help prevent accidents in tight spaces or while reversing.

All of these features work together to make the Tiggo 7 one of the safest SUVs in its class, ensuring that your family is protected at all times.

3. Fuel Efficiency and Performance

Fuel economy is another important factor when selecting a family SUV, and the Tiggo 7 delivers excellent efficiency without compromising on performance. Equipped with a 1.5L turbocharged engine, the Tiggo 7 provides a perfect balance of power and fuel savings.

The engine delivers smooth acceleration and impressive power output, making it ideal for both city driving and long highway journeys. The Tiggo 7 also features Eco Mode, which optimises fuel consumption by adjusting throttle response and transmission shifts. This feature is particularly beneficial for families looking to save on fuel costs, especially during long road trips or daily commutes.

On average, the Tiggo 7 offers fuel consumption figures of around 7.5 litres per 100 kilometres, which is highly competitive for an SUV of its size. With this level of efficiency, you can drive longer distances without frequent stops at the gas station, making it a practical choice for budget-conscious families.

4. Stylish Design and Cutting-Edge Technology

While functionality is crucial, the Tiggo 7 doesn’t skimp on style. Its modern and sleek exterior design sets it apart from other SUVs in the same segment. With bold lines, a distinctive front grille, and LED headlights, the Tiggo 7 exudes sophistication and road presence.

Inside, the new Tiggo 7 pro is just as impressive. The infotainment system features a large touchscreen display with smartphone integration, making it easy to connect your devices via Apple CarPlay or Android Auto. This allows you to enjoy hands-free calling, music streaming, and access to navigation apps, keeping the whole family entertained and connected throughout the journey.

Additional tech features include a keyless entry system, push-button start, and climate control, all of which contribute to the overall convenience and ease of use. The digital instrument cluster provides real-time data on speed, fuel economy, and driving modes, keeping you informed at all times.

5. Affordable Price and Great Value

Perhaps one of the most compelling reasons to choose the Tiggo 7 as your next family SUV is its affordability. Compared to other vehicles in its class, the Tiggo 7 offers exceptional value for money. Despite its advanced features and premium feel, the Tiggo 7 comes at a competitive price point, making it an attractive option for families on a budget.

The low initial cost is further complemented by the Tiggo 7’s low maintenance costs and excellent fuel efficiency, which helps you save even more in the long run. Chery’s comprehensive warranty package also adds to the vehicle’s value, offering long-term protection and ensuring that your investment is secure.

Summing Up

The Tiggo 7 is an ideal choice for families seeking an affordable, stylish, and feature-packed SUV. Its spacious interior, advanced safety features, excellent fuel economy, and modern technology make it a top contender in the family SUV market. With the new Tiggo 7 pro, you can enjoy the perfect blend of performance, comfort, and value, ensuring that every family journey is safe and enjoyable.

If you’re looking for a reliable and stylish SUV that meets the needs of your family without breaking the bank, the Tiggo 7 is definitely worth considering.

Source by - https://shorturl.at/gpGW9 

[capitaldieseltruckrepair]

5 Common Truck Problems in Sacramento and How Mobile Repair Services Can Help You Stay on the Road

For truck drivers in Sacramento, keeping vehicles in top shape is a constant challenge. The city’s busy roads, diverse weather conditions, and long routes can lead to unexpected mechanical issues that interrupt your schedule and impact your bottom line. In this blog, we'll highlight five common truck problems that Sacramento drivers frequently face and explain how Capital Diesel Truck Repair services offer effective, on-site solutions. From engine overheating to brake failures, these services help you avoid unnecessary trips to a traditional Truck Repair Shop.

The Role of Mobile Truck Repair in Sacramento

Operating a truck in Sacramento involves unique challenges. Heavy traffic, unpredictable weather, and long hauls all take their toll on your vehicle, leading to mechanical breakdowns and unexpected delays. Traditionally, truckers had to tow their vehicles to a Truck Repair Shop, which often meant wasting valuable time and money. Thankfully, Mobile Truck Repair services now provide quick, on-the-spot solutions, allowing drivers to get back on the road faster.

5 Common Truck Problems in Sacramento

Engine Overheating Engine overheating is a common issue for truck drivers in Sacramento, especially during the hot summer months. High temperatures and heavy loads can strain the engine, causing it to overheat. If not addressed promptly, overheating can lead to significant engine damage. Mobile Truck Repair services can quickly diagnose and repair overheating problems on-site, preventing further damage and minimizing downtime.

Brake Failures Brake issues are a serious concern, particularly in Sacramento's dense traffic. The frequent stops and starts can cause brake pads to wear out, or lead to problems like leaky brake lines and malfunctioning ABS systems. A Truck Repair service can provide immediate assistance with brake inspections, pad replacements, and fluid checks, ensuring your truck remains safe and compliant with road safety regulations.

Battery and Electrical Problems Electrical issues are another frequent challenge for truck drivers, especially in modern vehicles that depend heavily on electronic systems. Sacramento's fluctuating temperatures can lead to battery failures, alternator problems, and other electrical malfunctions. Mobile Truck Repair services offer on-site battery replacements, jump-starts, and electrical diagnostics to ensure your truck's power systems remain fully functional.

Transmission Troubles Transmission problems can be particularly disruptive, often causing a complete vehicle stoppage. Issues like slipping gears, delayed shifting, or transmission fluid leaks are common in trucks navigating Sacramento’s varied terrain. A Mobile Truck Repair service can handle these complex repairs on-site, using advanced diagnostics to make necessary adjustments or replacements, avoiding the need for a Truck Repair Shop visit.

Tire Blowouts Tire blowouts are a frequent issue on Sacramento's busy roads and highways. Worn-out tires, improper inflation, or road debris can all cause blowouts. Mobile Truck Repair services provide tire replacements, repairs, and rotations on-site, saving you the time and hassle of waiting for a tow truck or searching for a repair shop. This ensures your truck can continue its journey with minimal delay.

Specific Service: Truck Roadside Assistance

Breakdowns can happen at any time, and being stranded on the side of the road is not only stressful but also potentially dangerous. That's where Truck Roadside Assistance comes in. With 24/7 availability, Capital Diesel Truck Repair offers fast and reliable roadside assistance services, providing everything from minor repairs and jump-starts to more complex diagnostics right at your location. This ensures that you get back on the road as quickly as possible, no matter when or where the breakdown occurs.

Why Choose Mobile Truck Repair Over a Traditional Truck Repair Shop?

Opting for Mobile Truck Repair services instead of a traditional Truck Repair Shop comes with several benefits:

Time-Saving: Mobile services come directly to you, eliminating the need for a tow and reducing the time spent waiting in a shop. This is especially valuable in a busy city like Sacramento, where every minute counts.

Convenience: Whether you’re stuck on the side of the road or in a parking lot, mobile services come to your location, minimizing the stress and inconvenience associated with breakdowns.

Cost-Effective: Mobile services often have lower overhead costs than traditional shops, which translates into competitive pricing. You also save on towing fees and reduce downtime, making Mobile Truck Repair a cost-effective option.

Advanced Tools and Technology: Companies like Capital Diesel Truck Repair use the latest tools and technology to perform complex diagnostics and repairs on-site, ensuring high-quality service without sacrificing convenience.

FAQs

What should I do if my truck breaks down in Sacramento? If your truck breaks down in Sacramento, ensure your safety by pulling over to a secure location. Then, contact a Mobile Truck Repair service. They can come directly to your location and perform the necessary repairs, getting you back on the road quickly.

Are Mobile Truck Repair services more expensive than visiting a Truck Repair Shop? Not necessarily. While on-site service might seem more expensive, Mobile Truck Repair services often have lower overhead costs than traditional shops. You also save on towing fees and reduce downtime, making them a cost-effective option.

Can Mobile Truck Repair services handle major repairs? Yes, many Mobile Truck Repair services are equipped to handle a wide range of repairs, including major issues like engine and transmission work. They carry the tools and parts necessary to perform these repairs on-site, though some extensive repairs may still require a visit to a Truck Repair Shop.

How quickly can a Mobile Truck Repair service respond in Sacramento? Response times can vary, but most Mobile Truck Repair services in Sacramento prioritize quick response times to minimize downtime. Many offer 24/7 availability, ensuring help is always available when you need it.

Is there a guarantee on Mobile Truck Repair services? Yes, reputable Mobile Truck Repair services typically offer guarantees on their work, similar to those provided by traditional Truck Repair Shops. Always inquire about warranty terms before any work begins.

Do Mobile Truck Repair services cover all areas around Sacramento? Most Mobile Truck Repair services cover a wide radius around Sacramento, often extending up to 50 miles or more, including areas like Davis, Elk Grove, and Citrus Heights, ensuring help is available even outside the city limits.

Conclusion

Keeping your truck running smoothly in Sacramento's challenging environment can be tough, but Mobile Truck Repair services offer a reliable and convenient solution to common problems. Whether you're dealing with engine overheating, brake issues, or electrical failures, these on-site services ensure your vehicle stays roadworthy. With Truck Roadside Assistance, you can rely on quick, efficient help whenever and wherever you need it.

If you're experiencing truck troubles in Sacramento or nearby areas, Capital Diesel Truck Repair is ready to assist. Contact us today at +1 (916) 949-4882 or visit us at 941 Vinci Ave, Sacramento, CA 95838 for more information.

Contact Information:

Phone: +1 (916) 949-4882

Address: 941 Vinci Ave, Sacramento, CA 95838

Website: Capital Diesel Truck Repair

Need reliable Mobile Truck Repair or Truck Roadside Assistance? Reach out to Capital Diesel Truck Repair today for fast, efficient, and expert services right at your location.

[adroitextrusion]

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[neewtmas]

AKJHDKFKSD FINALLY

just the header already took me OUT✋🏻🫠

I know this will be the death of me, buff George can get it

You frowned at the boy in the armchair, who looked like the last thing he wanted to do was to share. “Am I supposed to fight you for them or something?”

that is so funny to imagine help

“What's going on with you and George?” This was definitely odd. “It feels like you've gone past teasing, you're almost flirting with each other.”

whaaaaat? I have no idea what you mean🙈

Her eyebrow quirked up at that. “You have a type?”

fuck yes I do👀

Lucy nodded. “Interesting.” It was spoken with the air of someone who knew exactly why it was interesting and someone who was absolutely not going to explain why.

the glee she must be feeling in that moment asgfsjfghkl

Just trying to hoist them up to make sure you'd oiled all the way round each joint was a workout.

god that sounds so tedious

someone cute and buff better come rescue me soon🤭🤭

He chuckled, climbing down the final few steps and holding out his hand. “Will the sacred pact allow a lunch break? I made soup.

Ah! convenient😉

There were two steaming bowls already set out on the table when you got back to the kitchen, and beside yours was a plate of sandwiches, cut exactly how you liked them.

I need him to cook for me oh my god

Your eyes widened as he scooped up a whole length in one easy movement and gave them a quick shake loose.

🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

You raised your fist higher, leaning forward in an offered challenge. “Right. Arm wrestle. Loser goes.”

the fuck am I thinking even if he wasnt buff at all I'd very probably lose😭

You weren't sure why you'd expected the easy, flexible grip of holding a rapier, but his fingers were clenched firmly around the back of your hand.

yeah that's just about enough to make me lose instantly🫠

You stared in shock at the boy opposite, the triumphant toothy grin that crinkled his eyes, the unexpected tightness of his shirt sleeve around his arm. The similar tightness in your chest.

sdhksdhakhd

You drew in a shaky breath as you struggled to drag your eyes away from George's arm, which was still pinning yours to the table. After a moment, you felt his fingers loosen and with some reluctance pulled your hand away. The silence in the room was palpable.

screaming, crying, throwing up OMFG

A flash of bicep clouded your vision again, and you reached for the door handle before you did something regrettable.

me fr

George moved closer, and you swallowed a lump in your throat. “I was actually going to question why you looked like you were about to leave without a coat.” He reached to the rack over your shoulder, lifting yours from its hook.

I'm just gonna pass out right there if you don't mind

“Well, I uh… I ran you a bath to warm you back up. I'll put this away.” He hauled up the bags of shopping with barely a huff, and you tried to reason that he hadn't just carried them through a storm.

12/10 on the attractiveness scale AHHHH

He wasn't like George though - smart, funny, thoughtful George.

Still didn't mean you fancied him, you told yourself.

the denial is stroooong😩🤭 just the way we love it

You'd chat or enjoy the companionable quiet, you'd both be at ease; nothing could possibly happen, which would give you time to prove your feelings were a fluke.

sure thing, I'm certain that will work

The sound died in your throat when he took off his gloves, draped them on the side of the sink and rolled his sleeves up out of the way.

I don't even kow what to do with that image HELP

You wondered whether it was just his arms that were so toned, or was the rest of him the same? Was he hiding a set of abs under that T-shirt too? Were his thighs-

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, as did his deep brown eyes as he raised his head to look at you. You were already distracted by the tension which lingered in his shoulders, the rigidity of his arms as they supported his weight, the way he had leaned into the pose so much that now when he looked up his face was so close it almost filled your vision.

no words, just 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

The silence that followed dragged on longer than you could bear. Why wasn't she saying anything? You forced yourself to sit up. George stood at the entrance to your room, eyes wide and lips parted.

adskjdhkdhkjshksd ACCIDENTAL CONFESSION FUCK YES

There was no mistaking it: he'd heard you basically say you loved him and now there he was looking like the mere concept was so unbelievable, like the option hadn't even crossed his mind. Why would it?

ALKFLISHDF i am not functioning anymoreee

George stepped closer, and you shrunk even further into yourself. Your heart skipped a beat when he gently tilted your chin up to meet his surprisingly soft gaze. “I meant, why do you think I don't love you back?”

🚨CHIN TILT 🚨CHIN TILT 🚨CHIN TILT🚨

“Have you seen yourself?” Hesitantly, you raised a hand to his bicep, marvelling at finally being able to feel the muscle instead of just staring at it, and more amazed at the way the boy responded to your touch, drifting closer until you were barely inches apart.

You yelped in surprise as his other arm hooked under your legs and swept you off your feet, your arms flying up round his neck for support. His arm was tense across your back but he looked the most relaxed he'd been since he walked in, and he shifted you closer to press a quick kiss to your lips before setting you down on the bed and sitting beside you.

I think I have just died and gone to heaven

MERRY YOU KNOCKED THAT OUT OF THE PARK OUT OF THE UNIVERSE I LOVE YOU

Rock Paper Scissors

Pairings: George Karim x gn!reader, background Locklyle

Summary: George is your best friend, Lucy's convinced there's more to it but he's not your type... is he?

Content: friends to lovers, oblivious flirting, misunderstanding, light swearing and suggestive thoughts, kisses

A/N: it's officially 1 year since I posted my first Lockwood & Co fic!! Thank you all for making it such an incredible year and continuing to support my writing, it means the world to me ❤️ and thank you to the Multiverse of George for fuelling the buff!George fire 🔥 I've even made a montage so everyone can see the vision, plus the gif above of George swinging the chains he's definitely strong 💪

Word count: 4.2k

Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear @honey-with-tea @mischiefmanaged71 (let me know if you want adding or removing!)

Ever since you'd started working for Lockwood & Co, you and George had had the most playful rivalry.

It had started on the very first day, when you came for your interview. Lucy had welcomed you into the living room while George went to fetch the biscuits. After breezing through the tests, Lockwood gestured to the plate still being clutched by the other boy.

“Biscuit?”

You frowned at the boy in the armchair, who looked like the last thing he wanted to do was to share. “Am I supposed to fight you for them or something?”

George had the audacity to snort. “In your dreams.” But then he did offer you the plate, albeit reluctantly.

Once you got used to one another, you found that you actually got on really well and gradually he became your best friend, but by then you'd set a precedent that neither of you wanted to drop.

“We're heading out soon,” Lucy informed you both as she slid cups of tea across the table. She and Lockwood had an appointment with a client, leaving you and George behind to keep working. “Can one of you oil the chains ready for tonight?”

You turned to George; he was already looking at you. A gleam came to his eye.

“Rock paper scissors?”

“You bet,” you grinned, already raising your hand. It took a few attempts, as you'd done it so many times by now that the two of you knew what each other was planning before it happened, but eventually you lost. Sticking your tongue out, you picked up your cup and headed towards the basement. Lucy followed you down.

“Can I ask you something?” she began cautiously.

“Course you can.” It wasn't like Lucy to not just ask straight out. This was odd.

“What's going on with you and George?” This was definitely odd. “It feels like you've gone past teasing, you're almost flirting with each other.”

Your gaze flew to your friend, who had lingered on the stairs. Was she being serious? “It's not like that, Luce,” you replied, wondering if it was warm in the basement or if it was just you. “I love him to bits, but the same way I love all of you. He's just not my type.”

Her eyebrow quirked up at that. “You have a type?”

“Don't say that like you don't,” you hit back. “You and Lockwood are made for each other! And George is great, really, but I prefer guys a bit more… buff?”

Lucy nodded. “Interesting.” It was spoken with the air of someone who knew exactly why it was interesting and someone who was absolutely not going to explain why. “Well… just don't rule anything out, but please be careful. I love you both too and I'd hate to see either of you get hurt.”

It was touching to hear her so candid about her feelings for you both. “I won't, I promise.”

—

You always forgot how ridiculously heavy the chains were. Just trying to hoist them up to make sure you'd oiled all the way round each joint was a workout. It was only adrenaline that carried you through working with them on cases. Thank goodness you were almost finished - your arms were beginning to ache and you were sure you were coated in sweat.

“Need a hand?” George's voice drifted from the stairs. You hadn't heard him come down, probably drowned out by the clanking links and your strained grunts, but there he was, sitting on one of the lower steps and watching you in amusement.

“You mean you want me to dishonour the sacred pact of rock paper scissors?” You mimed fainting in shock, taking the opportunity to slump back on the pile of chains and let the tension dissipate from your shoulders.

He chuckled, climbing down the final few steps and holding out his hand. “Will the sacred pact allow a lunch break? I made soup.” He'd got you there and he knew it. You loved his soup. Grinning, you accepted his hand and he pulled you away from the cold, hard metal.

There were two steaming bowls already set out on the table when you got back to the kitchen, and beside yours was a plate of sandwiches, cut exactly how you liked them.

“You're the best.”

“I know,” George smirked. He was eating with one hand, the other scribbling away on the Thinking Cloth. As he became more engrossed, he leant further forwards, his dark curls flopping over his brow. It was fascinating watching him get so engrossed in his work, the whole world melting away around him. Once you finished eating, you glanced across and took his empty bowl from in front of him. He looked up sharply, snapped from wherever his thoughts had taken him.

“Sorry, didn't mean to disturb you,” you mumbled.

“No, it's fine. We should probably get packed.”

You followed him down to the basement and pulled your kit bags from the shelf. Set side by side on the table, you both began to load up.

“You can carry the chains,” you told him over your shoulder as you picked up a half-empty box of flares and emptied it into your bag.

“Hey, you're the one who lost!”

“Only for cleaning them, I've done my bit.”

He huffed, but gave you a smile as he made his way over to the mound of chains. Your eyes widened as he scooped up a whole length in one easy movement and gave them a quick shake loose. You'd spent nearly quarter of an hour trying to manoeuvre that section earlier.

“How the hell did you do that?”

“They're not that heavy,” he shrugged, then added with a cheeky raised eyebrow, “or at least only when you’re trying to clean them.”

You threw the empty cardboard box at his head with a laugh.

—

A week later, the four of you were nestled in the living room. Outside, rain battered against the windows, which were almost being shaken out of their frames by the driving wind. You'd never have guessed it was June; it felt more like January. The fire was lit in the hearth, the occasional crackle of wood splitting the only other sound.

Eventually, Lockwood broke the silence. “I hate to say it, but someone's going to have to go out. We've got no tea left and barely enough food to last until tonight. We can draw straws to make it fair.”

He needn't have bothered. You and George already had your fists raised. One, two, three, paper. One, two, three, rock. Scissors. Paper. Scissors. Rock. Round and round you went, the symmetry only fuelling your competitive natures.

“This is ridiculous,” Lucy muttered. She was right, of course.

You raised your fist higher, leaning forward in an offered challenge. “Right. Arm wrestle. Loser goes.”

George leaned in, resting his elbow on the table. Lockwood and Lucy exchanged wide-eyed glances.

“Y/n…” Lucy began, but you weren't listening. Your elbow was already mirroring George's, hand in his. You weren't sure why you'd expected the easy, flexible grip of holding a rapier, but his fingers were clenched firmly around the back of your hand. Lockwood moved closer and counted you down.

Your hand hit the table almost immediately.

It felt like all the air had left the room. You stared in shock at the boy opposite, the triumphant toothy grin that crinkled his eyes, the unexpected tightness of his shirt sleeve around his arm. The similar tightness in your chest. Interesting.

Some sort of realisation hit you, and your attention shifted to Lucy. The look she was giving you was almost as satisfied as George's. Warmth flooded your cheeks. You drew in a shaky breath as you struggled to drag your eyes away from George's arm, which was still pinning yours to the table. After a moment, you felt his fingers loosen and with some reluctance pulled your hand away. The silence in the room was palpable. Lucy was still watching you in amusement. Lockwood was watching Lucy, trying to figure out why she had that “I know something you don't” look again over a simple arm wrestle. George was watching you too, his expression slowly shifting from victory to concern.

“Y/n? You okay?” he asked quietly. Your thoughts rushed back into your body, snapping your attention into the real world.

“All good,” you mumbled. “Just preparing to get drenched. If I'm not back in 20 minutes, assume I've been blown to the other end of the country.” At least that got a laugh out of Lockwood. Hurriedly, you stood and made your way to the front door. Why had you agreed to this? It was your own fault, of course, for continuing this whole competitive thing with George, but how were you to know he was that strong? A flash of bicep clouded your vision again, and you reached for the door handle before you did something regrettable.

“Hold on,” a voice came behind you. It was him. Keep it together, you told yourself.

“If you're about to volunteer to take my place, go ahead,” you forced yourself to stay casual.

George moved closer, and you swallowed a lump in your throat. “I was actually going to question why you looked like you were about to leave without a coat.” He reached to the rack over your shoulder, lifting yours from its hook.

“That might help.” You knew you were blushing again, but prayed he thought it was just from embarrassment at being so forgetful. Definitely not how close he was, how he was holding your coat in the same hand that had been holding yours moments ago.

—

By the time you made it back to the house, you were soaked to the bone and almost shivering. It seemed like the storm wasn't going to let up until at least the next day, so you'd decided to stock up on plenty of food which had seemed like a great idea until you tried to carry it all home. You'd had to stop several times on the way, ducking into doorways and bus shelters to escape the weather as you swapped hands, flexed your shoulders or relieved your fingers from where the handles of the bags had started to make dents. When you finally made it, you held the door open with one foot as you negotiated the bags in and dropped them unceremoniously on the hall floor. George emerged from the living room, alone this time; Lockwood and Lucy must have gone upstairs or down to the basement.

“You look awful.”

“Aww thanks, you're not so bad yourself,” you joked dryly. Oh god, Lucy was right, you were almost flirting. A shiver ran through you and this time you hoped it was from the cold.

For a second, you thought you saw George's eyelids flutter. “Well, I uh… I ran you a bath to warm you back up. I'll put this away.” He hauled up the bags of shopping with barely a huff, and you tried to reason that he hadn't just carried them through a storm.

The water was soothingly warm and scented with lavender salts, the smell wafting up in delicate bursts as it swirled around, relaxing all the tension in your aching muscles. As you lay peacefully, you reflected on what had happened earlier. You weren't sure you'd ever felt… You couldn't even identify what feelings you'd experienced during the arm wrestle. Shock? Embarrassment? No. It was something else, something that Lucy had noticed immediately and had been trying to get through to your oblivious self. But she was wrong, wasn't she? You said it yourself, you weren't into George, even if he did now fulfil your main criteria. Then again, so did plenty of other guys you'd met. Kipps was quite well built, definitely had muscles, but that didn't mean you'd considered dating him. He wasn't like George though - smart, funny, thoughtful George. You couldn't imagine Kipps running you a bath or making your favourite lunch, or doing any number of the things that with George felt so natural. And there were all the little things you did for him that you'd never do for anyone else. No, there were no two ways about it: you were a pair in whatever capacity that meant.

Still didn't mean you fancied him, you told yourself.

You volunteered to help George with the dishes after dinner that night. It was always nice to be able to spend time just the two of you in sync, but tonight especially you figured it was a good idea to be around him in perfectly normal circumstances. You'd chat or enjoy the companionable quiet, you'd both be at ease; nothing could possibly happen, which would give you time to prove your feelings were a fluke.

George picked up his blue rubber gloves and tossed you a tea towel. He was dressed casually, in sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt (so large that the sleeves almost met his gloves at the elbow). The radio was playing quietly in the background, giving you a welcome distraction. Whenever a song you recognised came on, you'd start humming along or singing under your breath, and George would smile at you, sometimes even joining in. Your heart leapt a bit when he did, but that was nothing, you were just happy to be sharing this moment with your friend. He stuck an arm deeper into the sink to grab something at the bottom and made a small noise. Water had splashed up onto the cuff of his sleeve. You giggled at the look of disgust he made at the wet fabric sticking to his skin. The sound died in your throat when he took off his gloves, draped them on the side of the sink and rolled his sleeves up out of the way. You were so used to him being hidden behind his giant tops, or at the very least being in longer sleeved shirts, that seeing his bicep completely exposed was a shock in more ways than one. It wasn't much wonder he'd beaten you so easily at arm wrestling with muscles like that. You wondered whether it was just his arms that were so toned, or was the rest of him the same? Was he hiding a set of abs under that T-shirt too? Were his thighs-

“You okay?” George nudged you, and you hastily looked away.

“I was just…” Come on, come on, find an excuse, your brain urged. “...thinking how this means we both got wet clothes today, if you want me to put that top in with my washing after this?” God that was lame. Not much wonder he wasn't interested in you. That wasn't the point, you reminded yourself.

“Oh,” he smiled. “That'd be great, thanks.” He leant over to put a chopping board on the draining rack, and his bicep brushed against yours. A shockwave of warmth resonated through your whole body. Oh.

“Tell you what,” you forced yourself not to stammer, “are you okay to finish up here and I'll go and grab the laundry basket?” He nodded, and you tried not to fall over your own feet as you retreated to the hallway and sucked in a breath to calm your racing heart. Oh.

—

You cursed yourself for ever starting this. No, this was Lucy's fault for pointing it out. No, still your fault.

Being around George was becoming unbearable. Not for anything he'd done, rather the things he wasn't doing. He was carrying on exactly as he always had, that inimitable blend of playful and caring, and it was driving you mad not knowing whether he meant any of it in the way you wanted him to. You couldn't say anything, of course. If you were wrong, it would mess up the whole dynamic of the group. That would hurt almost as much as any rejection. But the more things went on, the more you took notice of the little moments between you, the more your feelings grew until it felt like they would crawl out of your chest.

“What the hell were you thinking?” George snapped at Lockwood. He and Lucy had been out on a case which went badly, and now the four of you were sitting at the dining table in the early hours, George applying butterfly stitches to a cut on Lockwood's arm and you cleaning a couple of scratches on Lucy's face. The misty gloom of the night outside the window reflected the atmosphere within.

“I was thinking,” Lockwood snapped back, “that we only had to handle a couple of Type Ones, according to your notes.”

“I told you those weren't finished!”

“Well maybe next time, don't get distracted.” Was it your imagination, or had his gaze flickered to you?

“Maybe next time,” George replied darkly, “do your own research.”

“Fine.” Lockwood pushed his chair back and stalked from the room. Lucy shot you both an apologetic grimace and followed.

George began pacing round the kitchen, hands twitching angrily. You stayed at the table, knowing it was best to give him the space to say or do whatever he needed to let his feelings out. You were there if he needed you.

“Can you believe him?” It was rhetorical, you'd heard him say it enough to know, so you waited for him to continue. “We end up in this situation almost every week, because he's too reckless to wait! I know he'd rather be in the action, but he'd be able to do all that more if he'd let me give him the right information first.”

You gently waded in, trying to be reassuring. “We all know how useful your research is; he just gets overeager, especially when Lucy's involved.”

“I know you know how important it is,” his words sent butterflies through you, “but Lockwood just…” He gave a frustrated huff. “Maybe I should make him do all the legwork for a change.” You tried very hard not to think about whether George's legs were as muscular as his arms.

“I'll support whatever you decide, but for what it's worth I think you should just talk to him.”

He sighed heavily, placing his hands flat on the table and allowing his head to drop. “You're right. Thanks, y/n.” The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, as did his deep brown eyes as he raised his head to look at you. You were already distracted by the tension which lingered in his shoulders, the rigidity of his arms as they supported his weight, the way he had leaned into the pose so much that now when he looked up his face was so close it almost filled your vision. You swallowed nervously.

“Any time. I- I have to go.” You stumbled up from your chair, ignoring George's confused stare and sounds of protest as you practically bolted from the room.

—

You lay on your bed in the attic, tears slowly soaking into the pillow you'd buried your face in. This was the end; it had to be. You couldn't carry on working for the agency like this. If George had shown any interest it would be okay - Lockwood and Lucy managed to balance being a couple who worked and lived together, there was no reason you two couldn't do the same, but it could never work being so one-sided. You'd just keep being weird, struggling to hold your nerve around the boy until it would start bleeding into cases and Lockwood would have no choice but to fire you for everyone's safety, if you hadn't already got one of you hurt by then. Not to mention the emotional hurt. It would happen either way, but at least if you walked away now you could control it.

“Y/n?” Lucy's voice came tentatively from the bottom of the steps. “George said you ran off, is everything okay?”

You flipped onto your back, drawing in shuddering breaths to recover from almost suffocating in the pillow. “You were right, Luce.” There was movement on the steps, but you kept your eyes on the ceiling. You couldn't bear to look at anyone right now. “I tried so hard to make sure neither of us got hurt, but George doesn't love me back and now I feel like even if I stay I'm going to lose him.”

The silence that followed dragged on longer than you could bear. Why wasn't she saying anything? You forced yourself to sit up.

George stood at the entrance to your room, eyes wide and lips parted.

You scrambled to your feet. “Shit! I mean, hi, um… how long have you been there?”

George continued to stare.

“I'm so sorry,” the words were rushing out of you now, “I just panicked but I don't want to make things weird so can we just pretend-”

“What do you mean, ‘doesn't love me back'?” he interrupted quietly.

You froze. There was no mistaking it: he'd heard you basically say you loved him and now there he was looking like the mere concept was so unbelievable, like the option hadn't even crossed his mind. Why would it? Time stretched on as you fought the urge to run again, as far as the ever-widening space between you would allow. Neither of you had moved, but you could feel the room expanding around you to make room for the bottomless pit you wanted to crawl into. “I…” you drew in a slow, deep breath, “I was fine just being friends but Lucy got in my head about you being exactly my type and now I think I'm actually flirting while you're still just pretending and I'm sorry…” Tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes and you hurriedly looked away, hoping he wouldn't see.

George stepped closer, and you shrunk even further into yourself. Your heart skipped a beat when he gently tilted your chin up to meet his surprisingly soft gaze. “I meant, why do you think I don't love you back?”

You faltered. Was he saying what you thought he was? “Well, I mean, I thought I'd made things super obvious and awkward but you didn't change so I thought you weren't interested.”

George's hand was still on your chin and his thumb rubbed soothingly across your cheek, wiping away the single tear that had spilled. “I thought you weren't interested! You normally go for those muscly gym guys so I figured I'd take whatever I could get with the arm wrestles and stuff, but then you started avoiding me so I thought you were done with it.”

A small laugh escaped you, and he looked at you in confusion. “Have you seen yourself?” Hesitantly, you raised a hand to his bicep, marvelling at finally being able to feel the muscle instead of just staring at it, and more amazed at the way the boy responded to your touch, drifting closer until you were barely inches apart.

“So then why did you run?” His voice was whisper soft against your face, eyes gazing down at you with an overwhelming blend of sincerity, bewilderment and something like longing. His cheeks were tinted as pink as you knew yours were.

“Got flustered.”

“Flustered? You? I don't believe you.” A smile tugged at the edge of his lips, the playfulness you were used to creeping back into his voice. It was such a relief to feel the tension dissipating from the room, to have your George back, that you buried your head in his shoulder with a giggle. He laughed too, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Oh, I see, you really want to do this? Okay, let's see ‘flustered y/n’ at their best.”

You yelped in surprise as his other arm hooked under your legs and swept you off your feet, your arms flying up round his neck for support. His arm was tense across your back but he looked the most relaxed he'd been since he walked in, and he shifted you closer to press a quick kiss to your lips before setting you down on the bed and sitting beside you.

“Lucy's going to be very smug about this, you know,” he nudged you.

“I know,” you whined, burying your face in your hands. “Rock paper scissors for who has to tell her.” George laughed again and placed his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer as you leant into the embrace.

“Is this just a ploy to get more hugs?”

“Is it working?”

In response, he brought his other arm around your waist and kissed your forehead. You smiled, leaning up to kiss him properly, and he reciprocated eagerly.

—

Lucy had left George alone on the steps to your room once you started your confession, giving you both a bit of privacy, and decided when he didn't come back downstairs immediately that things had either gone very badly or very well. She believed, and hoped, that it was the latter. Her suspicions were confirmed when she came to tell you she'd made breakfast and found you fast asleep, wrapped in George's arms.