#Printed Laptop Cases

[happymiffy]

I have the cutest laptop case!!♡

[aquamarineglow]

Was cleaning out my room and found my old copy of Azran Legacy.

Inside was a printed picture of Rook and Bishop

[bellewood222]

(via "Ferris Wheel Variant" Acrylic Block for Sale by Bellewood222)

TeePublic link: http://tee.pub/lic/ociCGpLg-dk

[salwafci88]

Tropic like it's hot - cool refreshing design

Cool design for holidays printed on over 80 prodducts.

You can check from here

[angel-blood-art]

stickers + charms came in but the colours on the stickers don't look right 🥹

[peachypurr]

New shop drop! Proclaim your allegiance to Team Orca ✨

[maninsuitrb]

Born to be Tough

Available in Graphic T-Shirt, iPhone case, iPhone wallet, laptop skin, laptop sleeve, iPad case, metal print (5 sizes) tapestry, duvet cover... these and many more products await for you on the link!

[mythvoiced]

-. people actually do attempt to depict shinichi kudo as this cool, sexy, mysterious guy, strong, tall, hot-- he's a 17yrold failguy, a bitchboi twink, people let him get away with his attitude because he smiles pretty and is useful to Crime Solving which he only is because it's his ✨ special interest ✨, mr kudo pulled a karate queen who can cook, clean, and dodge bullets simply via autistic swagger, he's a nerd who beats up criminals by kicking a ball into their faces

[cityrendsstyliart]

CITY RENDS STYLIAT PRODUCTS is a collection of urban-inspired designs that bring the vibrancy of city life into your wardrobe and home. This collection features a wide range of products, including large print clothing, graphic T-shirts, A-line dresses, phone cases, and home decor items like pillows, duvets, and shower curtains. Each piece is designed to make a bold statement, combining modern aesthetics with stylish, artistic renditions of cityscapes. Whether you're looking to elevate your fashion game or add a touch of urban flair to your living space, CITY RENDS STYLIAT PRODUCTS offers something unique for everyone. Be blessed as you buy our products in Jesus' name, Amen! PRESS THIS THINK IT WELL TAKE YOU TO MY ONLINE STORE THANK YOU. https://www.redbubble.com/i/t-shirt/Urban-Aesthetics-A-Study-of-Rends-Styliat-by-CRSTYL-ART/164067835.WFLAH?asc=u

[alpinelogy]

asdfg looking for a ruler to get myself an idea of how large i am formatting things and instead i got distracted by my drawer full of fanmerch. fork meet kitchen

[fozmeadows]

the older I get, the more the technological changes I've lived through as a millennial feel bizarre to me. we had computers in my primary school classroom; I first learned to type on a typewriter. I had a cellphone as a teenager, but still needed a physical train timetable. my parents listened to LP records when I was growing up; meanwhile, my childhood cassette tape collection became a CD collection, until I started downloading mp3s on kazaa over our 56k modem internet connection to play in winamp on my desktop computer, and now my laptop doesn't even have a disc tray. I used to save my word documents on floppy discs. I grew up using the rotary phone at my grandparents' house and our wall-connected landline; my mother's first cellphone was so big, we called it The Brick. I once took my desktop computer - monitor, tower and all - on the train to attend a LAN party at a friend's house where we had to connect to the internet with physical cables to play together, and where one friend's massive CRT monitor wouldn't fit on any available table. as kids, we used to make concertina caterpillars in class with the punctured and perforated paper strips that were left over whenever anything was printed on the room's dot matrix printer, which was outdated by the time I was in high school. VHS tapes became DVDs, and you could still rent both at the local video store when I was first married, but those shops all died out within the next six years. my facebook account predates the iphone camera - I used to carry around a separate digital camera and manually upload photos to the computer in order to post them; there are rolls of undeveloped film from my childhood still in envelopes from the chemist's in my childhood photo albums. I have a photo album from my wedding, but no physical albums of my child; by then, we were all posting online, and now that's a decade's worth of pictures I'd have to sort through manually in order to create one. there are video games I tell my son about but can't ever show him because the consoles they used to run on are all obsolete and the games were never remastered for the new ones that don't have the requisite backwards compatibility. I used to have a walkman for car trips as a kid; then I had a discman and a plastic hardshell case of CDs to carry around as a teenager; later, a friend gave my husband and I engraved matching ipods as a wedding present, and we used them both until they stopped working; now they're obsolete. today I texted my mother, who was born in 1950, a tiktok upload of an instructional video for girls from 1956 on how to look after their hair and nails and fold their clothes. my father was born four years after the invention of colour televison; he worked in radio and print journalism, and in the years before his health declined, even though he logically understood that newspapers existed online, he would clip out articles from the physical paper, put them in an envelope and mail them to me overseas if he wanted me to read them. and now I hold the world in a glass-faced rectangle, and I have access to everything and ownership of nothing, and everything I write online can potentially be wiped out at the drop of a hat by the ego of an idiot manchild billionaire. as a child, I wore a watch, but like most of my generation, I stopped when cellphones started telling us the time and they became redundant. now, my son wears a smartwatch so we can call him home from playing in the neighbourhood park, and there's a tanline on his wrist ike the one I haven't had since the age of fifteen. and I wonder: what will 2030 look like?

[bellewood222]

(via "Marbling 3" Art Print for Sale by Bellewood222)

TeePublic link: http://tee.pub/lic/ociCGpLg-dk

[ricm999]

"Tiger Meteor Shower" Comforter for Sale by Dragoncc

[birdy2pics]

(via "A splash of colour with these bronze Chrysanthemums " Framed Art Print for Sale by Bird22Shot)

[designenrich]

Cool Super Moon with Great Wave

Experience 'Kanagawa Dreamscape': A vintage, hipster reinterpretation of Hokusai's 'Great Wave.' Beneath the radiant full moon's glow, immerse in inspiring, nostalgic waves, harmonizing nature's power and artistry, inviting you to embrace beauty.

Enjoy the supermoon lighting up the night sky tonight. Happy Mid-Autumn / Moon Festival 2023! To view my moon-related artwork, please click on the link below.

[luveline]

hi lovely, was wondering if you would be able to write any hotch x bombshell!reader ? maybe before they got together or any scenario/prompt you feel like!

take care of yourself and have a great day!!💝💝

The problem with Aaron Hotchner is that he’s too lovely for his own good. He might not think of himself that way. Not many, if any, of the office would agree. Morgan thinks Hotch is a hard-ass and Elle likes him in her way, but she rolls her eyes when he gets snippy, and Spencer… well, you think you and Spencer are probably on the same page. 

Hotch is kind, and a good man, and if he looks handsome when he’s frustrated that’s just how nature intended it to be. 

“Stop it.” 

“No.” 

“Stop.” Hotch levels you with a look over his computer. You’re surprised he knows how to use it, considering the semi-permanent callus on the pointer finger of his right hand. You must’ve watched him pen a thousand case files, consults and forms in a love letter to the old ways. 

He types slowly, but you’ve decided to keep your comment about it to yourself. “You’re looking at me like you know something I don’t,” he says. 

“Maybe I do.” 

“I’m sure you do. Stop bragging.” 

You lean on your elbow on the desk. He’s got a file open in front of him he’s transcribing for the sake of security. It details a case from a few months ago, and each line of the investigation is printed in Hotch’s neat script, lilting to the left over time. He frowns as he turns a page and realises it’s practically margin to margin with detail.

You want to offer to do it for him, but he’ll say no. You want to slide your foot up the leg of his slacks to see if he’ll blush as he did last Friday when you’d done the same thing, Gideon in the doorway none the wiser and somehow disapproving regardless. 

And Hotch, he’d laughed like a kid when the door closed, not turned on in the slightest but endeared by the guts it took you to try. Then he’d sort of enticed you around the desk somehow —you don’t remember the before of it, only slinking to his side with your heels tumbled on their sides under the desk still, his palms wide and open as you settled on a wooden corner. 

“I’m pretty good on the computer.” 

“I know,” Hotch says. “I authorised your computing and communications technology seminar myself.” 

“I was good at it before the mandatory company training garbage,” you say without heat, wondering how you might entice him over your side of the desk. Flirting aloud doesn’t work. Neither does footsie, and besides, what fun is that for you? But he’d looked at you in this strange way, none of his commanding sternness about him. A smile lingered on his lips; he can’t have known he was smiling at all, or it wouldn’t have shown. He’d left something honest there for you to see. 

Maybe it’s in your best interest to let down your own walls for a minute, too. 

“I could help,” you say. “Perhaps not from the same file, but I can get the laptop and start on the Maryland stuff. If you like.”

He looks at you steadily over the computer. His eyes seem lighter, the suspicious set to his mouth oddly close to smiling. “What do you want?” he teased quietly. 

“Nothing. Just figured it would make your life easier.”

“When have you ever made my life easier?” 

Your smile slips before you can stop it. Immediately, Hotch isn’t smiling either. The, “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that, honey,” almost doesn’t reach you, over that sharp second of hurt. 

“It’s fine.” You plaster on a smile again to save him the trouble. “I know you didn’t.” 

“No, really. I didn’t mean that.”

“Hotch,” you say, thumbing over his name slowly, “I know. We were teasing.” 

“Flirting,” he corrects. 

Your smile is real, then. “Flirting?” you ask. “That’s rather forward. Flirting might imply we like one another enough to, oh, I don’t know, help each other with our overflowing workloads?” 

He looks at you, all dark and him, steady, strong, all the stupid things that draw you in. You’re not just in it for his arms, however tightly corded they might seem when he’s pulling off his tie after a long day. “You do more than enough for me just sitting there,” he says, holding your gaze with a careful casualness that has your heart tripping in your chest. “Can you do that for me?” 

“Do what? Just sit here looking pretty?” 

His shoe touches your ankle. “Exactly,” he says quietly. “Just sit there exactly as you are. I promise I don’t need anything else from you.” 

Warmed from the inside out, you sit back in your chair. Grinning like a fool. “Why didn’t you just say that?” you ask. Any chance at sounding casual is lost when your voice comes out gossamer thin. 

He looks you over appraisingly. “See?” he says, turning back to his case file. “Thank you, honey. You’re a big help.” 

You swing one leg over the other to get comfortable, crossing your arms over your stomach smugly. “I know.”