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pucksandpower · 5 months ago

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Don’t Judge a Book by Its Cover

Toto Wolff x Reader

Summary: a wealthy older man with a starry-eyed younger woman — it’s a tale as old as time and a scene the saleswoman has seen countless times before … or is it?

The showroom gleams under harsh fluorescent lights, every surface polished to a mirror finish. Cars, sleek and expensive, are lined up like jewels in a case. The hum of quiet conversation fills the space, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter or the soft clink of champagne glasses.

It’s another day at the auto show, and the saleswoman, tall and sharp-eyed, watches it all with a thin veneer of polite disinterest. She’s been here long enough to know who’s serious and who’s just here to gawk.

She spots them before they even step into her section. The man is hard to miss — tall, broad-shouldered, with the kind of commanding presence that makes people step aside without even realizing it. His suit is tailored to perfection, probably costs more than her monthly salary.

And then there’s the girl — no, the woman — beside him. You’re much younger, that’s clear. You look out of place, wide-eyed and excited like a kid in a candy store, dressed in something trendy but understated, a deliberate contrast to the man’s sophistication.

The saleswoman’s eyes narrow as she watches you both approach. She’s seen this before — older man, younger woman, the kind of relationship that’s all too common in these circles. She doesn’t have to guess who’s footing the bill here.

“They’re all stunning,” you say, your voice carrying over the murmur of the crowd as you walk beside the man. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Take your time,” the man says, his voice low, accented, and rich with an authority that’s clearly second nature to him. He’s smiling at you, and there’s a warmth there that the saleswoman finds almost disarming. Almost.

She steps forward, her professional smile firmly in place, and approaches the two of you. “Good afternoon,” she says, her tone perfectly neutral, though there’s an edge to it, just enough to make her feel superior in this little interaction. “Is there anything in particular you’re interested in today?”

You look up at the man, a slight question in your eyes, as if asking for permission to speak. The saleswoman notices this, of course, and it only confirms what she already thinks.

“The Porsche 911 S/T,” you say, your voice gaining a little confidence as you look back at her. “It’s — wow, it’s incredible.”

The saleswoman allows herself a small, condescending smile. Of course, you’d go for something flashy like that. “A beautiful choice,” she says smoothly. “Though it’s not currently available for sale. It’s more of a display model for now.”

You look disappointed, but before you can say anything, the man steps in. “Is that so?” He asks, his tone polite but firm. “And when will it be available?”

“Not for a few months, I’m afraid,” she replies, keeping her smile in place even as she feels a flicker of unease at the intensity in his eyes. “But we can certainly take your information and let you know the moment it is.”

You’re distracted by another car nearby — a sleek, silver Audi R8 — and the man follows your gaze. “Excuse me for a moment,” he says to the saleswoman, already moving toward the car that has caught your attention. She watches him go, a tightness forming in her chest.

You’re bending slightly, peering into the Audi’s interior, running your fingers over the smooth leather seats. The man is right behind you, his hand resting lightly on your lower back, a gesture that’s both protective and possessive.

“What do you think of this one?” He asks, leaning in close, his breath warm against your ear. You smile, and it’s a real smile, the kind that makes your whole face light up.

“It’s beautiful,” you say, your voice soft, almost reverent. “But I think I’m still in love with the Porsche.”

He chuckles, and the sound is deep, genuine. “You have good taste.”

The saleswoman doesn’t hear what you say next, but she sees the way you look up at him, like he’s the only person in the room. She almost rolls her eyes. Of course, you’re infatuated. Who wouldn’t be, with a man like that?

But there’s something else, something in the way he looks at you that makes her pause. There’s affection there, sure, but it’s more than that. It’s something deeper, more complicated.

He straightens up, leaving you to admire the Audi, and makes his way back to the saleswoman. She steels herself, ready to resume the dance of negotiation, but his next words take her by surprise.

“I want to buy the Porsche for my partner,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

She blinks, momentarily thrown. “As I mentioned earlier, sir, it’s not for sale at the moment. But we can-”

“You misunderstand,” he interrupts, his eyes locking onto hers with a quiet intensity. “I’m not asking if it’s for sale. I’m telling you I want to buy it.”

The saleswoman feels a prickle of irritation, but she keeps her expression neutral. “I’m afraid that’s not possible, Mr …”

“Wolff,” he says, his voice steady. “Toto Wolff.”

The name rings a bell, and she stiffens slightly. Of course, she’s heard of him. Everyone in this business has. But she’s not about to let him walk all over her just because he’s some big shot.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Wolff, but even for you, the car isn’t available. It’s a prototype, and it won’t be released for sale until-”

He cuts her off with a low laugh, and there’s something almost dangerous in the sound. “For me,” he says slowly, as if explaining something very simple to a child, “they’ll make it available.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but the words die in her throat. There’s a look in his eyes that makes it clear this isn’t a man who’s used to hearing the word no. And she realizes, with a sinking feeling, that he’s right. If Toto Wolff wants that car, he’s going to get it.

The saleswoman swallows hard, her professional composure beginning to crack around the edges. “I’ll need to speak with my manager,” she says finally, her voice losing some of its earlier confidence.

“Please do,” he replies smoothly, his gaze flicking back to where you’re still admiring the Audi, completely unaware of the tension playing out behind you.

She turns on her heel, making her way to the back office with quick, clipped steps. The nerve of him, she thinks, but even as she seethes, she knows what the outcome will be. No one says no to someone like Toto Wolff.

As she waits for her manager to confirm the inevitable, she casts a glance through the glass wall of the office, watching you and him from a distance. You’re laughing at something he’s said, your hand resting on his arm, and for a moment, the saleswoman feels a strange, unwelcome pang of something close to envy.

It’s not just the money or the power that he has — though there’s plenty of that — it’s the way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing that matters. Like he would move mountains just to see you smile.

The manager finally appears, a mix of excitement and nerves on his face as he hurries over to speak with Toto. The saleswoman stays back, watching as they exchange words, her earlier confidence completely drained. She knows what’s coming, and sure enough, after a few minutes, the manager gestures for her to come forward.

“Mr. Wolff,” the manager says, his tone obsequious, “we’d be more than happy to arrange the purchase of the Porsche for you. It’s not something we typically do, but in your case, we can make an exception.”

Toto gives a small nod, as if this is exactly what he expected. “Good,” he says, then glances over at you, still absorbed in the Audi. “I’ll take care of the details later. For now, I’d prefer if my partner remains unaware of the purchase.”

The manager nods quickly. “Of course, of course. Discretion is our priority.”

The saleswoman feels a fresh wave of irritation as the manager all but trips over himself to please Toto. But what bothers her even more is the realization that she was wrong. This isn’t a simple sugar relationship, despite what she first thought. There’s something real here, something that makes her uncomfortable in ways she can’t quite put into words.

As Toto walks back over to you, the manager gives the saleswoman a sharp look, silently instructing her to follow his lead. She pastes on her best smile, swallowing her pride, and follows after him.

You don’t notice the shift in the atmosphere when Toto returns to your side. You’re too engrossed in the car, asking him questions about its specs and design, your enthusiasm infectious. The saleswoman watches the two of you interact, trying to reconcile the easy, genuine affection she sees with her initial assumptions.

“So,” Toto says, leaning in a little closer to you, “if you could choose any car here, which one would it be?”

You bite your lip, clearly torn, but finally, you sigh. “I know it’s silly, but I keep coming back to the Porsche. It’s just … it’s perfect.”

His smile widens, and the saleswoman feels a pang of something she refuses to name. “Then the Porsche it is,” he says softly, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.

You laugh, a little embarrassed. "Toto, you can't just buy it because I like it. It's not even for sale."

He chuckles, a warm, deep sound that makes you feel like you’re the only one in the room. “You’d be surprised what’s possible.”

The saleswoman shifts uncomfortably, watching as Toto brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering a moment too long to be purely casual. You smile up at him, oblivious to everything except the man in front of you.

She clears her throat, forcing herself back into the conversation. “Actually, we can make arrangements for the Porsche. If you’d like, we can finalize the details and set up delivery.”

You blink, surprised. “Really? But I thought-”

Toto smiles, squeezing your hand gently. “It’s yours, if you want it.”

Your eyes widen, and for a moment, you’re speechless. Then you throw your arms around him, pressing your face into his chest as you mumble a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

The saleswoman watches, the professional smile on her face feeling more like a grimace now. She doesn’t understand it, doesn’t understand you or him, but she knows she was wrong.

You pull back, looking up at Toto with a softness in your eyes that’s almost too much to bear. “I don’t even know what to say,” you whisper.

“Just be happy,” he murmurs back, his voice tender in a way that makes the saleswoman want to look away.

And for a moment, she does. She turns her gaze to the gleaming cars, the reflections of the showroom lights bouncing off their polished surfaces. When she looks back, you’re both still there, lost in each other, completely oblivious to the rest of the world.

The saleswoman feels a strange, hollow emptiness settle in her chest as she turns to finalize the sale, realizing that perhaps, despite everything, this wasn’t about money or power at all.

Perhaps it was just about love.

***

The estate in Oxfordshire is nothing short of palatial, its sprawling grounds stretching out in every direction, bordered by neatly trimmed hedges and ancient oaks. The driveway is long and winding, leading up to a mansion that looks like it could have been lifted straight out of a Jane Austen novel — grand, elegant, with an air of timeless sophistication.

The saleswoman sits in the passenger seat of the delivery truck, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her jacket. She’s never been nervous about a delivery before, but then again, she’s never delivered to someone like Toto Wolff before.

Beside her, the driver is humming along to a tune on the radio, completely at ease as they turn onto the estate’s private road. She glances at the rearview mirror, catching sight of the Porsche 911 S/T, pristine and gleaming, with an oversized red bow affixed to the roof. It looks absurd, she thinks, a toy fit for a princess.

It takes several minutes to reach the front of the house, the tires crunching softly over the gravel. The saleswoman feels a knot tighten in her stomach as they pull to a stop.

She’s here to oversee the delivery, to make sure everything goes smoothly, but part of her wonders if this is all a colossal waste of time. Surely, she could’ve sent someone else. But she’d insisted on coming herself—perhaps out of some twisted sense of curiosity, or maybe it was just her bruised pride.

The driver cuts the engine, and there’s a brief moment of silence before the door to the mansion opens. Toto steps out first, his movements unhurried, as if he’s in no rush at all. And then you appear beside him, your hand lightly resting on his arm as you walk out together.

“Here we go,” the driver mutters, giving her a nod before he hops out to start the unloading process.

The saleswoman takes a deep breath, composing herself before she steps out of the truck. Her heels sink slightly into the gravel as she approaches, her professional smile back in place. Toto greets her with a nod, his expression unreadable, while you give her a warm, if somewhat shy, smile.

“I hope the drive wasn’t too difficult,” Toto says, his voice smooth and polite, but there’s a hint of something more behind his words. An expectation that everything will, of course, be perfect.

“Not at all, Mr. Wolff,” the saleswoman replies quickly, her smile tightening. “It was a pleasure, really.”

You step forward, your eyes wide with excitement as you look past her to the truck. “Is it …” you ask, your voice filled with a mix of disbelief and anticipation.

The driver is already lowering the truck’s ramp, and as the Porsche comes into view, you let out a small gasp. “It’s beautiful,” you whisper, taking a step closer, your hand still clutching Toto’s arm. “I can’t believe it’s really here.”

Toto watches you with a soft smile, the kind of smile that the saleswoman has started to recognize as reserved only for you. “I told you it would be,” he says quietly, as if this moment is just as special for him as it is for you.

The saleswoman clears her throat, drawing their attention back to her. “We took extra care during the transport,” she says, trying to regain some control over the situation. “Everything is exactly as it was when it left the showroom.”

“Thank you,” Toto says, but his focus is already back on you as you approach the car, your fingers brushing over the sleek lines of the Porsche as if you’re afraid it might disappear if you touch it too firmly.

You circle the car slowly, taking it all in, and for a moment, the saleswoman feels like an intruder in this private moment. She watches as you turn back to Toto, your eyes bright with unshed tears. “I don’t even know what to say,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.

He steps closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “I just want you to be happy.”

The saleswoman averts her gaze, the tenderness of the moment making her uncomfortable. She’s seen plenty of couples over the years, but there’s something about the way you and Toto interact that feels … different.

It’s not just the age difference, though that’s part of it. It’s the way he looks at you, like you’re the most precious thing in the world, and the way you look at him, like he’s your anchor in a storm.

The driver interrupts her thoughts as he finishes unloading the car. “All done here,” he says cheerfully, handing the keys over to Toto with a grin. “She’s all yours.”

Toto takes the keys with a nod of thanks, but instead of pocketing them, he holds them out to you. “Would you like to take her for a spin?”

Your eyes widen, and you laugh, a light, joyful sound that echoes in the evening air. “Now? I haven’t even driven a car like this before!”

“There’s a first time for everything,” he replies, his tone teasing yet encouraging. “And I trust you completely.”

You hesitate for a moment, glancing at the car and then back at Toto. The saleswoman can see the internal debate playing out on your face — excitement warring with nervousness. But then, with a deep breath, you take the keys from him, your fingers brushing against his as you do.

“Okay,” you say, your voice firming with determination. “Let’s do it.”

The saleswoman watches as you climb into the driver’s seat, adjusting the mirrors and running your hands over the steering wheel like you’re trying to familiarize yourself with every inch of the car. Toto takes the passenger seat beside you, and for a brief moment, the saleswoman catches a glimpse of his hand resting on your knee, a gesture that’s both reassuring and intimate.

She’s pulled out of her thoughts when the driver nudges her, motioning toward the truck. “We should get going,” he says, glancing over at the car. “Looks like they’ve got everything under control.”

But the saleswoman doesn’t move. She’s rooted to the spot, watching as you and Toto pull away from the estate, the Porsche purring softly as it glides down the driveway. There’s something about the scene that feels almost cinematic, like she’s watching a moment that she’s not supposed to be a part of.

The car disappears around a bend in the road, and the saleswoman finally exhales, not realizing she’s been holding her breath. She turns back to the driver, who’s looking at her with mild curiosity.

“Everything okay?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.

She forces a smile, pushing down the strange mix of emotions churning in her chest. “Yeah,” she says, though the word feels hollow. “Everything’s fine.”

They load back into the truck, the engine roaring to life as they begin the long drive back to the showroom. The saleswoman stares out the window, her thoughts racing, replaying the scene over and over in her mind.

She tries to tell herself that it’s just another delivery, just another rich couple flaunting their wealth. But no matter how hard she tries, she can’t shake the image of the way Toto looked at you, like you were his entire world.

The driver’s voice cuts through her thoughts as he asks, “So, you think they’re the real deal?”

She turns to look at him, frowning slightly. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, keeping his eyes on the road. “I mean, a guy like him, a girl like her … you think it’s more than just the money?”

The saleswoman hesitates, her fingers curling around the edge of her seat. She wants to dismiss it, to laugh it off and say that of course it’s just about the money. But the words stick in her throat, refusing to come out.

“Yeah,” she finally says, her voice quieter than she intended. “I think it is.”

The driver nods, seemingly satisfied with her answer, and they fall into silence once more. But the saleswoman can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted, that this delivery has left her with more questions than answers.

As they drive away from the estate, the sun dips lower, casting long shadows across the road. The saleswoman stares at them, lost in thought, wondering what it must feel like to be loved the way Toto loves you.

She knows she’ll never have an answer to that question, but as the truck rumbles down the road, she can’t help but think that maybe — just maybe — there’s more to life than the things she’s always taken for granted.

And for the first time in a long time, she finds herself longing for something she can’t quite put into words.

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copperbadge · 10 months ago

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[ID: A photograph of an old-timey automobile, dating from 1912; it has a soft rag top and looks like a Model T, but is in fact a Marathon K-20, made by Marathon Motor Works with a cast-iron engine and sold at cost to try and get people more interested in driving. It sits in the corner of a large well-lit room with floor-to-ceiling glass, clearly a museum exhibit of some kind.]

I honestly wasn't sure what to expect from Marathon Village when I stumbled over it while researching Nashville, but I'm actually super glad I decided to give it a shot. It's super weird, which I love, and very fun, which is a bonus! The "village" is really just a city block consisting of a handful of buildings, formerly the Marathon Motor Works. The "museum" the village houses is super tiny, really just a foyer and a single room, but it has a couple of really rare Marathon autos in it and whoever is curating the museum really has a love of the cars and of teaching, you can tell.

For example, the K-20 up above has a full page placard detailing the research that was done on it and the modifications made. My favorite part is that the Marathon logos were either pried off or ground off at some point between its sale in 1912 and it being acquired by a restorer in 1952, which they believe is because it was stolen in New York and had to be anonymized. I mean, it's 1912 and someone has stolen your car, what are you even going to do about it? It was probably stolen later when cars were more common so it wouldn't IMMEDIATELY BE SPOTTED because it's the only fucking car on the road, but still.

Aside from the museum, across the street, the old manufacturing plant has been converted into a small mall; there are a couple of tasting rooms (Jack Daniels has a large presence, and there's a wine bar), a cafe, a deli, and a handful of "get yourself a Nashville t-shirt here" type places, selling shirts and bottle-openers and such. I got a great sticker that I'm going to have to put somewhere prominent that reads DOLLY/REBA 2024. As I told the cashier, "I support literacy, the arts, and murdering your man if he's a no-account scoundrel." That could have been awkward but she enthusiastically agreed that it's good domestic policy.

#the biscuits and bbq trip #nashville #classic cars #vintage cars

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tacticalhimbo · 2 months ago

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Happy Valentine's Day @monarch-boo ! I come to you courtesy of @gtafest , and as a fellow Gay Tony lover, to bring you this sweet treat!

I loved all of your prompts, and hope I did this one in particular some justice! <3

WORDS: 1.1K FANDOM(S): Grand Theft Auto 5/Online WARNINGS: Brief Mentions of Drugs and Alcohol (No Substance Abuse)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Let me know if you’d like a more permanent copy of this, too! I’m always happy to provide a PDF version of the writings I do!

[NEOCITIES MIRROR]

With this new nightclub schtick in Los Santos, Tony figured he had it good. Sure, the person fronting the operation was a complete enigma that frankly confused the shit out of him–half the time it was hard to tell if they were pleased or pissed about a sale–but they were effective with what they did. So much so that it was no surprise when they’d mentioned creating a partnership with the El Rubio. Because of course they would! What could possibly go wrong when offering your services to one of the–if not the–most notorious drug traffickers out there?! Surely nothing important, not when you were casually working behind his back to plan the heist of the century by taking advantage of a very thin alliance.

If he were honest–and he was–Tony despised the idea. It was much too reminiscent of… everything that went wrong in Liberty City. Sure, most of that was his fault, but it was still nerve wracking. And the bubbling anxiety was only made worse when his business partner invited him along to the island getaway.

“Kid, are you sure–”

They simply tilted their head and shrugged their shoulders, turning their palms up as if to ask what was the worst that could happen. Tony’s arms crossed across his chest.

“I’m just saying, getting into bed with these kinda guys–fun as it is–only comes back around. You’re sure you can manage keeping the act up?”

An affirmative nod. Tony’s eyes couldn’t help but roll as he threw up his hands.

“Alright, fine. But I’ve already told you: I’m not good with a gun. If shit hits the fan, don’t expect me to take any shots.”

[...]

And that was how Tony ended up standing on the compound’s veranda, sun setting on the island coast as a few guards stood silently by the door. Tired eyes found the energy to bounce along the courtyard below, watching as his business partner putzed around with the Madrazo kid and his pack of lovely ladies. Patrolling guards seemed to ignore the festivities for the most part, sparing brief glances before continuing their rounds. Partygoers of all shapes, sizes, and backgrounds danced to the blaring beats. Just beneath it all, Tony could hear the door to his side open, and out stepped the man of the hour.

“Oh, hey! Surprised you are not down there enjoying the party. Seems more your style.”

“If it were the height of the ‘80s, maybe.” Tony laughed. There was a bitter edge to it, though it was almost sentimental. Still, he played it off as a simple jest. “Not exactly my style now.”

“Ah, I see.” El Rubio stepped forward, waving his guards inside. They gave each other an uncertain glance, but did as told. “Still drink?”

A curious glance; a subdued shiver seeing that they were truly alone now. Well, at least if he died here it wouldn’t be embarrassing on account of there being one sole witness. Maybe two. Surely there had to be snipers somewhere. He squinted over the rims of his sunglasses toward the setting sun, subtly checking the horizon. Nothing… damn, either they were good or this guy was way too confident.

“Course I still drink.” He grinned. It wasn’t confidence; it was business. Selling the visage of confidence to stand on his own feet. And, thankfully, it worked. At least it’d seemed to.

If it didn’t, El Rubio didn’t make it clear from the way he’d simply stepped over toward the corner of the veranda, gesturing for Tony to follow. Leading him ever so casually to the set of patio furniture and bringing his attention to the fancy bottle and glasses that awaited them. Bourgeoix, a relatively popular choice in Los Santos, but this one seemed... richer? At least where cognac was concerned. Upon closer inspection, as the two found themselves seated, it was richer–aged. Sourced directly from the French commune of Châtellerault in Nouvelle-Aquitaine, and not some manufacturing plant that claimed it was 'tous originaux.'

“Fit for a Prince.” The casual repetition of the company slogan created pause. If one listened closely, they could swear there was a lingering sense of… something within El Rubio’s voice. Something much too intimate for Tony to let himself linger on. Especially when accompanied by that sly grin and knowing twinkle in his eyes.

So he simply glanced at his current companion, letting an awkward laugh slip. “I get it, very funny. Well, this ‘prince’ appreciates the gesture. This is an original bottle, no?”

El Rubio nodded as he poured them each a glass, raising his toward the setting sunlight once setting the bottle down to admire the vibrant color. “Of course it is! All the fucking money in the world from the business I do; why would I waste it on cheap shit?”

Another fit of uncertain, though concurrent, laughter. Laughter which was quickly drowned by the other’s chattering. There was an odd pleasantry to their idle chatter once the alcohol carried any lingering anxieties out to the shimmering sea below. It flowed away like the deep amber of the cognac sloshed into their glasses, transferred from bottle to mouth with hardly any care in the world for the luxurious price tag that accompanied it. Tony eased right back into his chipper state of mind, quick to jump into the conversations El Rubio presented. They laughed, they sighed, they found themselves reminiscing on the days of hard drugs and incessant clubbing, as well as those beyond that. About the quaint, relaxing days. Those that El Rubio–who Tony learned was actually named Juan Strickler in this moment–spent idly golfing whilst visiting the Madrazos. Those that Tony spent wishing for something more to come out of his miserable little life; it did come, of course, and chased his happy little ass all the way to Los Santos…

And now, to Cayo Perico, where the irony was suddenly not lost on the cartel head. Hours passed, the sun set, and the party below went on with no signs of stopping anytime soon. Rather, things were just getting started by the sound of it.

“Say,” El Rubio began, leaning on the elbow that rest on the table between them. “You dance?”

Tony peered over the edge of his glass, brow cocking as he’d swore he caught another sign in his companion’s expression. Rather than run away from it, he leaned into it. Mirrored the gesture of resting on the table as he set the glass down. “Of course I dance. Wouldn’t have gotten into the nightclub business if I didn’t appreciate the art of it.”

A grin. “So, let’s dance.” An offered hand, which Tony boldly took.

#txt #my fics #gtafest 2025 #gta 5 #gtafest #gta online #gay tony #el rubio #juan strickler #tony prince #monarch-boo

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mariacallous · 5 months ago

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The “True Sensation” dildo is a fleshy, silicone tool that measures exactly 7 inches and has the ability to vibrate (three different frequencies), thrust (seven different speeds), and self-heat (up to 105 degrees Fahrenheit). It’s just like the real thing, James Guo, the founder of Our Erotic Journey, assures me from his office in Irvine, California. Best of all—everything is controlled through the app AMZ.

“It connects to someone that’s oceans away,” he says of its potential for creating all kinds of sexual fantasies. Teasingly, he adds: “There’s also music that can match the intensity of the vibration.”

True Sensation is just one offering featured among the wide inventory of Our Erotic Journey, the sex toy brand Guo launched in 2019. Its online store, which boasts more than 200 products, is a pleasure chest of sexual self-amusement. Take your pick: There’s the lipstick-shaped vibrator, a remote-controlled rotating butt plug, various cock rings, something called the “Gravity Rocket” (a clitoral suction vibrator with seven massage modes), and a smattering of glow-in-the-dark accessories. “Those are for the ravers,” Guo jokes.

The sex tech market is estimated to triple by 2030, exceeding $100 billion globally in sales. The demand for products, from AI-assisted companions and personal wand massagers to sexual wellness apps, sits at an all-time high. At a moment when industry trends favor artificial intelligence and remote sex exploration, Guo just wants to make eccentric, high-quality vibrators. He’s betting big on toys.

In the years since launch, Guo has built Our Erotic Journey into a quietly influential brand through intentionally whimsical designs and an insistence on quality products. “I know production,” Guo says. His family, he tells me, owns an auto-parts factory in China, and what he learned from the business—how the factory system runs, the science of machines, what style of packaging attracts customers—he leveraged for OEJ.

Guo admits that the initial product line—about 20 toys, of which the Sec Duo vibrator for couples remains a company best-seller—was devised to “fit the market.” “We self developed the first batch through modding, R&D, scaling, all that stuff,” he says. “Everything since that represents more of who we are.”

That’s how OEJ’s six themed collections came to be. The Cristal collection is for glass toys while the Space, Thrillz, and Lit collections are for truly uninhibited pleasure seekers (one features a dildo called “The Girthquake,” that exploits a specific, if sometimes worn out, racial fantasy).

But where Guo, who is 35, sometimes falls short in imagination, he more than makes up for in vigilance. “Users expect and deserve products that meet stringent safety standards, and any deviation can damage a brand’s reputation irrevocably,” he posted in an XBIZ editorial in September. “Partner with trusted white-label manufacturers rather than gamble on the unknowns.”

When I ask Guo about the editorial, he stresses that the success of sex tech is determined as much by the innovation involved in the products as the quality. “We want to be more of a bridge from human to human,” Guo says, “not just from toy to human.”

Even with promising market projections—another estimate goes so far as to predict sales could surpass $121 billion by 2030—industry analysts are not convinced that the future of sex tech is in toys.

It’s a “very oversaturated market that is now avoided by many,” says Olena Petrosyuk, a partner at the consulting firm Waveup. This year, she adds, investors “are looking away from ‘commoditized’ trends”—sex toys, but also sex content and social platforms. “Many failed to prove the economics and scale. The category is still fairly stigmatized,” she says. “OnlyFans being a massive exception.”

So what do consumers want? Petrosyuk says wellness, AI, and immersive realities are hot right now. “Practically every new sex tech startup is thinking in terms of AI use cases,” she says. “If it’s AI toys—companies are looking into how they can anticipate and respond to the user’s needs. If it’s robotics—we see companies looking into sex bots. If it’s content—it’s hyperpersonalized sex personas.”

Guo tells me he is not phased by talk of AI sex robots—“a low-volume business,” in his estimation—because many people cannot afford the high price tag. Continued success, he believes, is will come by expanding on the company’s themed collections. OEJ works directly with US and Canadian distributors; it is not a direct-to-consumer business, though he says customers do occasionally order via the online store.

Although ecommerce is the industry standard in retail and electronics, taking more of an old-school approach works for Guo. Next year, OEJ plans to launch a Zodiac collection, crafting 12 unique toys for each astrological sign. It’s an appeal to the Co–Star fanatics of Gen Z. “Every generation is different,” he says.

The company’s mostly nonexistent social media presence only seems to add to their Wonka-like mystery. “We’re just bad at it,” Jerry Chen, an operations assistant, says. “We’re really focused on production.”

For now, that business model seems to be a hit. Our Erotic Journey recently won the “Best Pleasure Product Manufacturer—Small” prize at the 2023–2024 AVN Awards in Las Vegas, a litmus test for newbie brands in the adult content world. OEJ also received the O Award for Outstanding New Product for “Sexy Pot,” Guo’s marijuana-leaf-shaped vibrator, a customer favorite.

Clearly wanting to capitalize on its unexpected success, Guo says, “It’s time we gave it a sister or brother.”

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dailybrew · 3 months ago

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AC:NH Hardcore Rules

If you want to watch the OG creator's video going through the rules, here you go! If you want to read the rules typed up and see any alterations I'm making for my gameplay, read on! (under the cut b/c it's long)

Restarting:

You can have up to 1 re-roll on island layouts.

Island name must come from an AC island name generator (unlimited rolls).

Starting Villagers pick their house plot.

Villagers:

You must keep at least one starting villager until you get their photo. If you re-rolled your island layouts, you must keep and get BOTH starting villager photos before they can move.

All villagers with thought bubbles must be talked to.

You may only gift one villager per day.

If someone asks to leave, you must let them go (starting villager rules apply). If I absolutely fall in love with ONE SPECIFIC villager, I might overlook this rule for them only. But once I choose them, they're chosen, no one else can replace that permanent spot.

If you get a campsite visitor, they must be invited and you have to let the villager of their choosing move out to make room (starting villager rules apply. I am adding that if I fail to convince the campsite villager to move in due to failing the mini-games, then I lose my chance and they can't be invited again.

The max number of tickets you can use for hunts is 10. If you get to the 10th ticket you must take that villager or auto-fill.

You may only go to one mystery island per day (except on hunts).

No amiibo scans, Sanrio items cannot be sold.

Daily Rules:

You are able to TT within a 7 day period (M-Sun, example). No TT option for an extra challenge. I am assuming this means I can TT as many times as I want within 7 days and that's exactly what I'm going to do; I mostly play late at night so like, it's necessary, don't come @ me.

You must purchase at least one thing from Nook's Cranny and Able Sister's once per day. I will not be following this rule strictly until I actually have Nook's Cranny, obviously.

You must get a daily fortune read from Katrina. Once I unlock her, of course.

You must complete all 2x Nook Miles+ (supersedes economy rules). I will endeavor to do them all, but I'm not going to force myself to do ALL of them in a play session.

You must participate in daily stretching (1 per day).

Must complete daily NPC quests (Gulliver, Label, etc.)

All new bugs/fish/sea creatures/fossils/art must be donated before selling.

Design Rules:

Can only wear clothes you design or from another player's Able's. Must change outfit every week (hats/glasses/accessories you can purchase). I am NOT limiting myself to just custom design clothing. Making outfits out of Able Sister's items is one of my favorite things to do. However, I will try to make a new clothing design once a week or so.

You must post your designs in Able's.

You can ONLY use custom codes you design.

You must design your own flag.

Can only move villager houses once you can gift to them.

I'm not seeing it on the infographics but I feel like I have seen somewhere that HHP is prohibited. But nah fam. I paid for that shit, I'm playing it. However, I will NOT sell any of the items I get; they will strictly be for decorating.

Economy Rules:

You can only have four 3x3 plots for selling crops (crops can only be harvested in bunches of 3).

Can only harvest and sell fruit of 9 fruit trees, and 4 coconut trees. If I'm landscaping and need to remove a fruit tree, I am going to harvest the fruit and keep it just to eat or give to villagers, I guess.

Turnips are allowed, but you can only sell them on your island. You can buy them from other player's on Sunday.

Sunday Flea Markets. You are allowed to visit other Hardcore mode players to buy and sell goods.

Each flea market seller can only have 10 items for sale. You must pay 2,000 bells in their donation box when you arrive to their island.

You can only have a max of 5 flea market customers per Sunday (this includes turnip sellers).

OKAY SO this challenge is like 2 years old and idk anyone else who's doing it, so the whole Sunday Flea Market thing - while super cute sounding - is not going to work for me. Since it doesn't look like you can sell furniture outside of this, I'm going to make it a rule that I can only sell up to 10 furniture items to Nook's Cranny on Sunday (Real World Sunday, not game Sunday if I TT).

No treasure islands, no Nookazon. I am going to follow this rule as much as possible, but since the flea markets aren't gonna be an option for me, I may allow myself to visit Treasure Islands just to get furniture or Island specific items in different colors. I'll probably give myself a limit or a requirement to have access to a TL though.

ONLY sell bugs to Flick, Fish to CJ, Weeds to Leif, and materials and crafted items to Nook's.

Crops/fruit/sea creatures/foragables (mushrooms, sea shells, acorns, flowers, etc.) can only be sold in the Nook Deposit Box (Harvestmoon style).

Money trees: Can only plant what you dig up.

No trading flowers, no selling fossils. I really don't want to end up with a bunch of excess fossils filling up my storage, so I'm either going to allow fossil selling as part of my 10 Sunday items, or I'll just toss them in a trash can.

I'm very excited to play like this! I don't really have an end goal in mind, but I think it'd be lovely if I could build, decorate, and create a "final" dream address for this island by following these rules entirely. If at any point I decide I've had my fun but I want to stop following these rules and just focus on decorating, using bells and items from treasure islands, etc... well then I guess that'll be the end!

If I think of or see any extra rules/restrictions/ideas for this, I'll edit this post and add them down here!

#acnh hardcore rules #with my personal adjustments #for reference

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darkeagleruins · 9 months ago

Text

"Cho Tak Wong is the chairman of Fuyao Glass Industry Group, one of Asia's largest manufacturers of auto glass."

Cho Tak Wong lives in Fuqing, China.

"...Chinese executives at Fuyao bought the Ohio plant in 2014 after General Motors (GM) shuttered it. The plant is the world’s largest auto glass manufacturing plant, according to the company."

GM shuttered a plant that is now the world's largest auto glass manufacturer owned by a Chinese billionaire who lives in China that was acquired while Obama was President, who Obama made a movie about the devastation and lower wages the Chinese glass manufacturer caused after the Obama administration agreed to the sale allowing the Chinese billionaire to acquire it.

Do you see how that happened?

GM shuttered it killing about 2,000 jobs whose wages were about $29 per hour. They sold it to a Chinese Billionaire living in China who reopened the plant and hired many of the same people back for under $13 per hour who supplied glass to GM who shuttered the plant in the first place.

Oddly enough, Obama chose that Chinese company who his administration agreed to the purchase, made a movie on the suffering of the wage decreases by the Chinese company they allowed to buy it.

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inner-ear627 · 2 months ago

Text

Clairaudient Channeling

() = me narrating

"" = songs, books, movies, quotes

<> = smells, tastes, sensations

Some of these could just be signs or synchronicities. Sometimes I'll get words or sentences, and I'll hear someone else say them later on in a conversation or on the TV/internet.

(Before I list off the stuff I got earlier, I just wanted to mention I noticed a lot of lights flickering today and that might be significant for someone.)

"S.O.S" - Rhianna

Someone is swearing up and down they didn't do anything but they did.

Gaslighting

Time piece

Fucked up

Losing it

Pictures

"Picture to Burn" -Taylor Swift

Bouncing up and down

Pacing

Holier than thou

Reckoning

Family gathering

Video surveillance

(I just heard, as I was typing, "the lie detector determined THAT was a lie!" lol)

Agreement

Mediocrity

Move it or lose it

Foster

Give them up

Headline

Serpentine (I got the feeling someone was trying to maneuver around questions without actually answering them)

Golashes

Do you have the time?

Losing it

Over now

You fucking wish

"Wild Thing" - The Troggs

It's got your name on it

Filters

Duolingo

Move over

"Oldies radio! MAJIC 102.7!" (That's a radio station in Miami that I'm pretty sure doesn't play oldies anymore)

Enough

Loosen it

"Uptight" - Stevie Wonder

Nicotine patch

Out of sight, Out of mind

Old people

California adventure

Cruise

Repeated attempts

Responsibility

Stuff that matters

Tessa

Don't get stressed about it

Worries and fears

Double chocolate

Holding out

Unbelievable

Try to have a good day

I believe in you

Dentist appointment for Tuesday

Marked down

Clearance sale

In quotation marks

Everything must go

Circumstances

Monster sale

Umpire

Truck

"Love Me Do" - The Beatles

Above or below average

Score

Spikey

Honda Civic

International

Chocolatier

Performance review

Substandard

Calm down

Beauty sleep

Get this message

Timer

Self-Esteem

Bullseye

Licked

Crying

"Respect" - P!nk

Zipper

Caught with pants down

Triangle

Square

Ratio

Paper

Get Ratioed (lol not sure what that means but it sounds like an insult)

Motormouth

Richard

That's a big ask

Responsibility

Baby

Fatality

Big boundaries

Needing

Fight

Goggles

Thunder

Houla hoop

Lit a fire under their ass

Where would we be?

Water bottle

Don't forget to hydrate

Music

Be there or be square

Minimum of 40 days

Purim

Derogatory

Maximum sentence

Jail

Libra

Island

Get out of there

Burger King

Roof

Rattling around

"Shake, Rattle, and Roll" - Bill Haley & His Comets

Gertrude

Desert

After party

Cinco De Mayo

Fishing line

Chicken wire

A lot of lessons here

Maury

First of all

Hey, thanks

Resolve your tummy issues

Not you gaslighting me!

Taco truck

Ocracoke

Tank

Badmouthing

Bruiser

Your anthem is playing

"All Star" - Smash Mouth

Ego boost

Amanda

Diet coke

Coke

Go back to

October 1st

Halloween

Heightened

Audience

Podium

Pond scum

Basement

Recliner

Sofa

Couch

I haven't eaten anything

We haven't decided yet

Gold Star

Applebee's

Idol

Opera

Start singing about mashed potatoes

Hockey puck

Island

Someone stole my sweets

Puppy

All this

Giving to me

Slow approach

Snow White

Billy Goats Gruff

Standards

Timer

Watch

Clouds

Jeff

Hungry

Belief

Waffle House

Good

Bandages

Dead (when i heard this i saw a Waffle House that was open but had no customers)

Restaurant

Retainer

Hot and Smokey

Tender

Ham

Smoked bacon

Samon

Date

Trail mix

Sky

Grand Theft Auto

Airplane

Keep your peace

Whatever happens

Nonchalant

Enjoyment

I'll tell you right now

Not for everyone

Lavender scented dish soap

Business acumen

Bill fold

Brown noser

Hop in

Take a seat

Roof

Diving

Ella

Writing

Put on app

Appetizer

Egocentric

At work

Hotdog

Banana

Indentured servitude

Morally corrupt

Billy

Looking for illegal activities

Evidence

Spotted

Photo

Thinking it was gonna last

Court ordered

Hearing

Deep

Sink

Land

Scope (I was seeing a looking glass that old timey pirates used and then I started seeing a lot of old timey pirate imagery))

Old time pottery

Wasted it now

Boat

Higgins

Fact of the matter

Motherland

Manipulate

Talking about

Collective

Ghetto

Prison

Thinking they are more powerful than God

Big mistake

Redirect

Court

Smashing

Capricorn

Leo

Heirophant

Judge

Out of the frying pan and into the fire

Hot water

Heart attack

Electric Bugaloo

Stay out of it

It's not for you to get involved in

"Too Much Monkey Business" - Chuck Berry

"Blue Suede Shoes" - Elvis

Wow

Theme park

Expresso

Susan

Ascot

Holding it down

Police

Rings

Dang it

Anything I can help you with?

Willow

Tap

Content

Woken

Open doors

Flew open

Dragonfly

Huckleberry

Ring

Ichabod Crane

Up in the air

"Up, Up and Away" - The 5th Dimension

Computer

Make other people uncomfortable

Vampire

Edgar Allan Poe

They think they are so much better than you, but they don't know a damn thing about you. Not a single clue.

Put up with bull crap

Stupid

Heavy

Pictures

Snakes

Walk down tracks

Who the hell cares what their tiny minds think.

Idea of you

Judgement

Passion projects

Executing thought into action

Art

Beautiful

The Call

Phone call

Leo

Ace

Raising up confidence

Not involved They absolutely were involved

Fumbled

You may cry

Alleviate

I love you

Take care of your tummy

Dimetapp

Action

Be on alert

Be awhile

Keep your head up

Head above water

Scatter

King of cups

Motivate you

Capital

Teamed up

Minutiae

Guys

Made up

Cover story

Lesbian

Oh, well. They can just sit there and be mad by themself.

Page out of your book

Helpful

Favors

Halloween

Serious

Covers

Scary dude

Shiver me timbers

Cover

Already knew

Said somebody looked like me

Necromancer (this is in reference to some kind of game. Couldn't get a clear picture on what game, so it must be something I'm unfamiliar with)

Construction

Lady

Good

Grounded

Good judgement

"Luck Be a Lady" - Frank Sinatra

Bankruptcy

Character

Police department

Hot summer day

Just in time

Love you

Good night

#channeled message #intuitive messages #clairaudient #spirituality #intuition #psychic

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inspiredwriter · 1 year ago

Note

Leonardo :*parado en el restaurante*(pensamientos💭) vamos Leo este día de San Valentín deber ser especial para Stefany 😊😁💖💘💞💗*mira su reloj* ya pronto será a las ocho Espero que llegue😄🥰⌚💕💝❣️

Stefany :*se acerca a Leo* hola tortuguita me arregle bien para nuestra cita el día de San Valentín🥰😊👗🩷💞💘💖

Leonardo :*mirá a Stefany y se sonroja* ¡Wooaah!~😳😍💓💘💝💞 te ves muy hermosa como siempre gatita 😏🥰💖💕❣️

Stefany :*se sonroja* jajaja pues gracias Leo tú también eres hermoso 😄😃💗💞💓💘* besa a Leo en la mejilla* Muah~😚💋💕💝❣️¿Qué hiciste para nuestro día especial? 😄🤭💓💕💘

Leonardo :*abraza a Stefany en la cintura* bueno reserve una cena en el restaurante de sushi para nosotros 😏😘🍣🥂🏪💖💞❣️es el lugar más romántico de la ciudad 😊😉🌃💝💕💘💗

Stefany : Oh que dulce de tu parte Lee 🥰😍💖🩷💕💝* abraza el brazo de Leo*(pensamientos💭) Espero que entremos quiero darle tu regalo especial para ti ☺️😀🎁💝💞❣️💕

***

Miguel Angel :*se detiene en el apartamento de Anastasia*(pensamientos💭) me alegra Donnie me prestó su auto para llegar a mi princesa a un lindo paseo por la ciudad 😏😁🚗🏙️💕❣️💞💖*toca la bosina*¡Ooooh nena tu príncipe está aquí~! 😄😉💗💘💕

Anastasia :*sale del apartamento* ahora mi príncipe estoy lista Para nuestras citas de San Valentín 🥰😃💘💖💕💞

Miguel Angel :*se sonroja con la boca abierta* ¡¡Oh concha~!!😳😍🌋💘💖💞💗 tú no eres Anastasia eres una diosa del amor que ha caído en el cielo por mi 😍😇💕💓💝

Anastasia : Gracias mi apuesto apuesto príncipe 🤭🥰💗💞💓💘*se sube el auto* bien amor A dónde nos vamos? ☺️😀💖💕❣️💗

Miguel Angel :*acaricia la pierna de Stefany* bueno nena vamos a dar un lindo paseo por toda la ciudad😏😘🚗🌃💕💖💝 susurra e Anastasia del oído*luego vamos lugar privado para hacer el amor en el auto 😈☺️🚙💓💘💞💖

Anastasia : Sin palabras cariño vamos😃😍💘💖💕💗* acaricia a Mikey en la mejilla* cuando lleguemos tengo un regalo que te gustará pero no puedo decírtelo🤭😉🎁💝💞❣️💓💕

@inspiredwriter

*At the evening*

*In a restaurant*

Stefany: My God, Leo, it's magnificent that we're having a romantic dinner on the roof😃😍🍣🥂💖🩷💘💞 *Sits down at the table*

Leonardo: *Pushes the chair* All the best only for you, my love😘🥰💓💖❣️💕 *Kisses Stefany on the cheek* Muah~😚💗💝💞 *Sits down at the table*

Stefany: *Wipes fork with napkin* Bon appetit to you, hunny😄😋🍣💗🩷💕 *Eats sushi*

Leonardo: Same to you, kitty😄🥰🍾🥂💘🩷💞 *Pours champagne into two glasses* (Thoughts💭) She doesn’t know yet that I booked a separate hotel room for us🤫😈🏩💘💓❣️💞

*In the forest*

Michelangelo: *Drives up on the hill and stops the car* Well, we have arrived at our destination, my love😄🥰💗🩷💖💕 Here we will admire the stars, eat party cake and..~😁😏💓💘💞 *Caresses Anastasia's booty* Do fun things~😈🥰💖💓❣️💕

Anastasia: *Blushes* Ah, Mikey, this is wonderful😳😍💗💝💞 How did you find such a beautiful place?😄💓🩷💖💕

Michelangelo: Well, when my brothers and I were on patrol in the forest, I found this hill and thought it would be a great place for a date with my beloved girlfriend😗🥰💘❣️💗💕 *caresses Anastasia's back*

Anastasia: *Snuggles up to Mikey's chest* Mikey, you're the best🥰🤗💖🩷💝💞 *Kisses Mikey on the lips* Mmmmuah~😚💋💓💘💞 Let's get out of the car and admire the starry sky😍😘💝💗❣️💕

*On the river*

Donatello: *Stands by the river* Where is my little mermaid?🤔🤨 I want this evening to be special for her😟🌌🌊✨

April: *Approaches the pier* Donnie, I'm here, my love😄🥰💖💝💘💞 *Takes Donnie's hands* Sorry for the delay, it took me a while to find the best outfit😅😘👗👡💗🩷💕

Donatello: *Blushes* Wow, darling, you look so brilliant that you just blind me with your beauty😃😍💓🩷💖💘✨ *Kisses April on the lips* Mmmmuah~😚💋💖❣️💝💕 Are you ready for a romantic boat ride?😏🌌🌊🚣‍♂️💗💝💓💞

April: Of course, sweetie😍🥰💖🩷❣️💕 *Holds Donnie's hand and gets into the boat*

Donatello: (Thoughts💭) I'll take her to the far shore, where there is a beautiful waterfall and we'll make love there😏😈🌅🌳🍃💗💘💕 *Unties the boat from the shore and takes the oars* We're setting sail, beauty~😁🥰🌊🚣‍♂️💖💓💞 *Sails away from the shore*

*At a rock concert*

Candy: *Jumps up with arms in the air* Woo, haha!🙌😙😃 Rock is alive!🤘😆🎸⚡ *Speaks to Raph in ear* Raphi, I think we have a slightly unusual date for Valentine's Day!😉😄💝💘💕

Raphael: *Hugs Candy's waist* It's not bad, the main thing is that you are happy my little pepper😏🥰💗💖💓💞 *Speaks to Candy in his ear* Besides, this is not the only surprise for tonight🤫😈💝🩷💕

@swagreecrow

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allstateautoglass · 8 months ago

Text

Car Windshield Replacement near Me for Professional Repairs

The knowledgeable specialists can take care of everything from small fixes to full windshield replacements. They provide mobile services, a large assortment of OEM and OEE spare parts, round-the-clock urgent glass repair, and advanced driver aid system (ADAS) calibration. In addition, they offer side mirrors, read glass repairs for side windows, and rear windshield damage. In other words, car windshield replacement near me is always satisfied with their services.

#car windshield replacement near me #auto glass for sale

0 notes

laf-outloud · 2 years ago

Note

I worked in the restaurant industry for years, I have friends that own breweries. Jensen should be so ashamed of himself. If the FBBC special family party was an event held by anyone else, they would be in hot water right now.

They didn’t deliver on anything they promised. No Danneel, but her parents and brother were there which just makes it extra weird that she didn’t show up. Jensen barely interacted with fans and spent most of his time hiding after advertising for MONTHS that it was going to be a lively, personal affair. And I get it, those people are crazy and I wouldn’t want anything to do with them either, but I also wouldn’t tell them to pay to spend time with me so… And those special “member’s only” glasses? Available for sale at FBBC. The special “member’s only” bottled beer? Available for sale and on tap at FBBC. They’re claiming it’s extra inventory/leftovers, but I don’t buy that. So they didn’t get anything they were excited for– no fun Jensen, no mini concert, no Jenneel content, no exclusive merch, and it looked like a lame night in general. Jensen can pretend all he wants that he’s different and not like the rest of the guys in Hollywood who open up breweries because they want more money and like beer, it’s clear to anyone with eyes that he’s exactly like them.

Thanks for sharing your inside perspective. My guess is that FBBC isn't important enough in the brewery community for them to be lambasted for such a lame event.

It sounds like the only exclusive thing to the membership is Jensen, except most of these fans also go to SPN cons where they have even more access to him with autos and panels so even that wasn't exclusive.

"Jensen can pretend all he wants that he’s different and not like the rest of the guys in Hollywood who open up breweries because they want more money and like beer, it’s clear to anyone with eyes that he’s exactly like them."

I couldn't have said it better!

#ask box #anti jensen #anti fbbc #fbbc con 2023 #false advertising

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ambiguouspuzuma · 2 years ago

Text

Cowboys

Jared missed the way things used to be. There was no finesse left in this world, or so it seemed - back when he was coming up, stealing a car had been a finely skilled profession, the work of masters of a craft to which he had devoted many years of his own study, but it sometimes felt that time had made a fool of him. In today's game, any cowboy with a crowbar felt themselves qualified for a little grand theft auto, and all of that careful practice had been rendered almost obsolete.

It had been harder, back in his day. More important to do things right. From the careful jimmying of the windows, to the deft hotwiring of the ignition, he'd brought a sense of elan to the proceedings, completing each job with minimal fuss and in complete silence. Not so the car thieves of today, whose primitive smash-and-grab tactics set off every alarm in earshot, left the tarmac strewn with window-glass for anyone to trace, and even damaged the very thing they were supposed to be stealing.

But they got away with it. That was the most frustrating thing, in Jared's view - other than the dozen other ways in which they drove him up the wall. When he'd been a child, neighbours might have left their doors unlocked, but they'd also kept an eye out for each other. They'd kept an ear out, too: without landlines of their own, they'd listened for the ringing of the phone box on the nearest corner, and rushed out to take any call that came in. It didn't matter that it wasn't their business: they would find out whose it was, and pass on the message to its intended recipient.

That had all changed. Today, the phone boxes were gone, and a car in the lay-by could be blaring for ten minutes with barely a twitch of the curtains from the house next-door. If the neighbours bothered to acknowledge the alarm at all, it was only as an expression of annoyance, focused on their own suffering in the face of such a dreadful racket. They did their best to block the siren out, failing to consider that its awfulness was purposeful, and that it might have been designed to cut through their concentration for a reason.

The cowboys didn't even have to worry about leaving a trace. The cops didn't care, any more than the neighbours had: on arriving at an empty driveway, they just filled out an incident report, and gave the victims a reference number for their insurance. The thieves could drop their wallets at the scene of the crime, leave the car's GPS location on, and offer it for sale on social media, and the police would still say there was nothing they could do.

It was driving Jared mad - and, more importantly, it was driving him of business. Skills which used to be prized were now useless, and he was finding he could no longer compete with the cowboys now flooding the market. Quantity over quality. That was the modern way. It was the Wild West out there, and all of the old norms had gone out of the windscreen. There was nothing he could do to turn back the tide.

Of course, he could still go fishing.

He'd followed them, sometimes, when the alarms kicked off. Jared had trained to avoid that sound like a death knell, so he was still sensitive to it, even if nobody else was, and it called to him whenever they were working nearby. He'd started turning up to the scene of the crime - at first just to watch, to scoff at the amateurs and throw his hands up at their inexplicable success, but then he'd started taking it personally.

That curiosity had not been easily let go, and he'd wondered what other bumbling mistakes the group had made, how easy it would be to tail them home - no trouble at all, it turned out - or what exactly they were doing with all their clumsy loot. Things like that. He hadn't expect them to lead them to a parking lot chock-full of cars, all corralled together like a herd of cattle, a hundred head of sheep in a single paddock, without a single padlock holding them there.

Jared guessed that these thieves, if they'd even thought that far ahead, had figured they'd be safe from being targeted themselves. They knew to listen for the alarms, the smashed glass, even if most bystanders didn't bother - having only learnt their own way of doing things, they fancied themselves immune to it. They'd never had the benefit of Jared's education. They'd never learnt what he could do.

It was slow work, one car at a time, but he began to sneak in every night - rustling their herd by inches, taking back what they'd taken from others, what they'd taken from him. It might still be subtle by their standards, but it was the easiest work of his career: like a walk in the car park, falling off a Leaf, or taking Camrys from a baby.

The beauty was that he enjoyed all of the same advantages. They couldn't call the cops. They weren't insured. They couldn't follow him, or at least not as easily. Jared knew the old ways - how to keep a low profile, how to cover his tracks, how to steal a car and make sure that it stayed stolen. He might be nothing but an old, washed-up thief, equipped with a misplaced sense of honour and a certain set of skills, but he could be more than a match for the arrogance of these cowboys.

One car at a time, he could sprinkle a little finesse across the world. One car at a time, with gear-stick wedged firmly in reverse, he would show the world the way things used to be.

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