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candylommss · 6 months ago

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Smartwatch Military Grade Tahan Segalanya ! Review Smartwatch Kospet Tan...

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Smartwatch ini diciptakan khusus kamu yang keseharian nya bekerja di lapangan, seperti atlet, tentara, ataupun pekerja proyek, karena smartwatch ini sudah tahan di segala kondisi, seperti tahan panas, tahan beku, banting, tabrak, bahkan zat kimia ! karena smartwatch ini sudah memiliki sertifikat military grade !

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karlykar · 6 months ago

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Smartwatch Military Grade Tahan Segalanya ! Review Smartwatch Kospet Tan...

Link pembelian TERMURAH : https://s.shopee.co.id/7zrofNuX3u Link Grup Komunitas Meja Unbox : Grup WhatsApp : https://chat.whatsapp.com/BiEQ2v8IDsg...Grup Telegram : https://t.me/+Yg5a0rFFgmc2ZDFl Smartwatch ini diciptakan khusus kamu yang keseharian nya bekerja di lapangan, seperti atlet, tentara, ataupun pekerja proyek, karena smartwatch ini sudah tahan di segala kondisi, seperti tahan panas, tahan beku, banting, tabrak, bahkan zat kimia ! karena smartwatch ini sudah memiliki sertifikat military grade ! SIlahkan tonton video untuk info lebih lanjut YouTube : youtube.com/MejaUnboxTikTok : tiktok.com/mejaunboxInstagram : instagram.com/meja.unboxFacebook Page : facebook.com/mejaunboxTwitter : x.com/MejaUnbox smartwatch smartwatch terbaik 2024 smartwatch murah berkualitas smartwatch murah smartwatch gadgetin smartwatch t800 ultra smartwatch huawei smartwatch 200 ribuan terbaik smartwatch xiaomi smartwatch y68 smartwatch t500 smartwatch android smartwatch aolon smartwatch aolon gtr smartwatch amoled smartwatch amazfit smartwatch amoled murah smartwatch android murah smartwatch apple smartwatch aukey smartwatch aolon gt5 pro smartwatch tahan air smartwatch tahan air murah dibawah 500 ribu smartwatch tahan air murah smartwatch tahan air terbaik smartwatch tahan air laut jam tangan smartwatch tahan air rekomendasi smartwatch tahan air i8 ultra smartwatch tahan air jam smartwatch tahan air apakah smartwatch t800 ultra tahan air apakah smartwatch i8 ultra tahan air apakah smartwatch t55 tahan air apakah smartwatch t500 tahan air apakah smartwatch t800 tahan air apakah smartwatch y68 tahan air apakah smartwatch i8 pro max tahan air apakah smartwatch series 8 tahan air smartwatch murah berkualitas tahan air smartwatch murah anti air smartwatch terbaik 2023 anti air smartwatch murah berkualitas anti air smartwatch tahan banting smartwatch murah tahan banting smartwatch tahan air murah smartwatch dengan baterai paling awet smartwatch baterai tahan lama smartwatch dengan baterai tahan lama smartwatch terbaik 2023 baterai tahan lama smartwatch baterai paling tahan lama smartwatch dengan diameter kecil c20 military smart watch smartwatch baterai tahan lama murah smartwatch dibawah 50 ribu smartwatch outdoor 500 ribuan smartwatch murah berkualitas anti air g shock tahan banting smartwatch military grade smart watch military grade military grade smartwatch tamil military grade smartwatch in india best military grade smartwatch under 5000 lemfo military grade rugged waterproof smartwatch military grade smartwatch in bd best military grade smartwatch in india firebolt military grade smartwatch fire boltt military grade smartwatch ze x - military grade smartwatch amazfit falcon military-grade smartwatch for men amazfit t-rex 2 military-grade smartwatch best military grade smartwatch smart watch military standard kospet smartwatch kospet smartwatch tank m2 kospet smartwatch connect to phone kospet smartwatch camera kospet smartwatch review kospet smartwatch t3 kospet smartwatch 2023 new kospet smartwatch best kospet smartwatch kospet smartwatch tank m3 kospet android smartwatch kospet max gps android smartwatch with 4g lte kospet 4g android smartwatch kospet max gps android smartwatch kospet max s 4g android smartwatch kospet optimus 2 ultra 4g android smartwatch kospet prime 2 android 10 smartwatch kospet best smartwatch kospet tank t2 smartwatch bangla review kospet tank x1 smartwatch black kospet tank t2 smartwatch- black color kospet rock smartwatch bangla review kospet smartwatch price in bangladesh kospet tank m2 smartwatch bangla review kospet m2-bk/2 tank m2 smartwatch black kospet tank t2 smartwatch price in bangladesh kospet tank t3 bt calling smartwatch kospet optimus 2 smartwatch price in bangladesh kospet tank t2 smartwatch special edition – black color kospet tank t3 ultra smartwatch review bangla kospet tank s1 calling smartwatch kospet tank t2 calling smartwatch kospet tank m2 calling smartwatch kospet tank m1 pro calling smart watch kospet tank t3 calling rugged smartwatch kospet tank m3 ultra calling rugged smartwatch with gps kospet tank t3 rugged bluetooth calling smartwatch kospet tank m3 calling rugged smartwatch kospet tank t2 smartwatch- silver color kospet x1 smartwatch deutsch kospet tank t2 smartwatch deutsch smartwatch reloj inteligente kospet t2 monitor de sangre kospet tank t3 ultra smartwatch español kospet tank t2 smart watch sp edition black kospet tank t2 smartwatch - special edition kospet tank t2 smartwatch spc edition kospet tank m2 review

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jungjungan · 6 months ago

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Smartwatch Military Grade Tahan Segalanya ! Review Smartwatch Kospet Tan...

#youtube #Smartwatch Military Grade Tahan Segalanya ! Review Smartwatch Kospet Tank T3 Link pembelian TERMURAH : https://s.shopee.co.id/7zrofNuX3u L

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joimood · 6 months ago

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Smartwatch Military Grade Tahan Segalanya ! Review Smartwatch Kospet Tan...

Link pembelian TERMURAH : https://s.shopee.co.id/7zrofNuX3u

Link Grup Komunitas Meja Unbox : Grup WhatsApp : https://chat.whatsapp.com/BiEQ2v8IDsg... Grup Telegram : https://t.me/+Yg5a0rFFgmc2ZDFl

SIlahkan tonton video untuk info lebih lanjut

YouTube : youtube.com/MejaUnbox TikTok : tiktok.com/mejaunbox Instagram : instagram.com/meja.unbox Facebook Page : facebook.com/mejaunbox Twitter : x.com/MejaUnbox

#youtube #Smartwatch Military Grade Tahan Segalanya ! Review Smartwatch Kospet Tank T3 Link pembelian TERMURAH : https://s.shopee.co.id/7zrofNuX3u L

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androidaddictsx · 1 year ago

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Oukitel BT10 vs BT20 Rugged Smartwatch Review

The BT10 and BT20 are Outkitel's latest rugged smartwatches compatible with Android and iOS. With both featuring Gorilla Glass screens, heart, blood and oxygen monitoring along with fitness tracking which would work best for you? #oukitel

The BT10 and BT20 are Outkitel’s latest rugged smartwatches compatible with Android and iOS. With both featuring Gorilla Glass screens, heart, blood and oxygen monitoring along with fitness tracking which would work best for you? The circular screen or the rectangular? Let’s compare both and see! Buy the BT10/BT20 on Amazon (affiliate links) BT10Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/48eNLqoAmazon US:…

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yardi5 · 2 years ago

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armywatches · 2 years ago

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In the ever-evolving world of technology, smartwatches are becoming more than just a device for tracking time and fitness. Military Grade Smartwatch designed

#smartwatch military grade

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on-a-lucky-tide · 2 months ago

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Like You Mean It: A Nikprice Mafia AU

John is invalided out of the military and is struggling to adjust to civilian life, stuck in a cycle of poor coping mechanisms and denial. He gets sent to Chester by his younger sister to service a client that has scared all her other employees. Little does he know that the appointment will change the trajectory of his life forever.

cw: post-traumatic stress disorder, extremely poor attitude to his own disability, toxic coping mechanisms.

“How is the new hobby going? Painting, isn't it?”

Price frowned at the table in front of him, counting the rings of coffee stains. Four. “It didn't work out.”

“Oh, that's a shame. What happened?”

Price swallowed, his fingers twitching on his knees. He could tell the truth: that the inane, witless conversations had bored him to death, or that one of the women had started flirting with him and it had made him uncomfortable, or that the paintbrush had felt unwieldy and small in his hands, that it looked wrong there, or that he had lost his temper, overwhelmed by something he couldn't put his finger on, and thrown the canvas to the floor before limping out, or…

“It jus’ didn't hold my interest. ‘M sure I'll find somethin’.”

The therapist tapped her notepad with the end of the biro and studied him closely. She was one of the best, Mac had said. Worked with all the old boys that invalided out after a lifetime in the service. She helped them get back on their feet, navigate civilian life, and finally put to bed some of the ghosts they dragged behind them. Price had to give her a chance to help, which meant opening up some of those wounds he’d let heal badly over the years. Sally was nice enough, and he was trying not to let his own internal battles influence how he regarded her. Sometimes, she made that hard.

“How are the nightmares? Any better?”

“Yeah, they… uh, they don' happen as regularly.”

“When was the last one?”

Last night. “Coupla weeks ago, I reckon.”

She wrote that down. Price tapped his knees again and glanced at the watch on the table. She made him take his off because he had spent the first two sessions glancing at it. The compromise had been that she would set an alarm on hers. It was a brand new smartwatch, she said, it tracked her calories, her heart rate, had GPS. The kind of thing his watches had been doing for years, except his watches could call in an air strike and track enemy combatants across the field of battle.

The old one, that is. His new one just told the time.

Her husband had bought it for her, so Price had said it looked very posh.

“Have you given any more thought to the dating app we talked about?”

The watch beeped. Thank fuck.

“Whelp.” He clapped his hands together before rolling to his feet with a quiet groan, a combination of actions that he knew made him appear ten years older than he actually was. “I'll see ya next week then, Sally.”

She handed him back his watch and he slipped it over his wrist, before she placed the notes down on the table. Given that his eyesight was still sharp, he caught the words, ‘denial’, ‘withdrawn’ and ‘isolated’ amongst the scrawl. His jaw twitched and he averted his gaze. This was one assessment he didn't seem to be passing in flying colours. She gave no indication she had realised he'd seen. “Companionship, John. Even a friend that has nothing to do with the service. It will do wonders.”

“Right. I’ll… work on that.”

It was raining when he stepped outside, grey clouds stretching across the skyline in a dark, homogenous blanket. He almost skidded on a drain, his uneven gait prone proving more of a liability in the wet, as he walked across the car park, and he swallowed the resulting grimace even though there was no one around to see. He did it more out of habit than anything else; show no weakness.

When he slumped into the seat of his old Honda Civic, he sat in the mute silence for a moment, watching the raindrops tumble down the windscreen. His leg throbbed, the tight scar tissue pulling, tendons creaking under tension, and he looked down at his knee with a scowl.

It had been a building falling on him that had done him in the end, trapping his leg for seven hours while his task force dug him out. Ghost had dragged him out by his bitch strap, and then carried him to casevac, with Soap doing his best not to look at the mangled state of his captain's leg as he covered the rear. A miracle that he hadn't lost it, they said. That he hadn't been crushed completely.

A miracle.

So, now, he got to rot away slowly in a small, one-bedroom flat in Liverpool, with TV dinners and Coronation Street. He walked through the world numbly, like he was observing it from afar, through frosted glass. The only brief glimpses of feeling he got was when one of the 141 messaged him. Sometimes a picture, other times a text. They were few and far between. It wasn't that they didn't care. They were busy. He knew the demands more than anyone. The world didn't stop turning because Bravo Six had left the game.

That didn't stop him checking his phone every few hours, just in case he had missed a notification. Checking his watch so he could tell himself where in their routine they would be.

He did it now.

1400, Tuesday.

If they weren’t on mission, Simon would have the experienced operators running drills with the trainees. It was autumn, which meant the start of bad weather and low visibility environs. It was likely he would do a jump in a few weeks with full kit to test the development of their survival skills.

He glanced at his phone. Nothing.

With a deep sigh through his nose, Price jammed his keys into the ignition and turned. The old car choked into life, the engine ragged in the cold, and he clicked it into ‘Drive’. He was grateful for the bloody thing, really. Those first few months of riding around on the bus had nearly been enough to send him to an asylum, with screaming kids and the constant smell of piss from seemingly every person that sat down. When his GP had approved him to drive an automatic, he'd almost dropped to his knees to fellate the bastard in gratitude.

He didn't really track his drive home. Stopping at reds, giving way, flicking down the indicator as he turned corners. The streets, houses and people of Liverpool passed by in a colourless smudge until he was pulling into his car parking space and staggering out in the rain. It happened a lot; the disappearing into his own head. Like his brain was giving up without stimulus and switching into standby mode.

The lift was still out of order despite his numerous phone calls on behalf of the residents, so he turned into the stairwell and began the arduous climb to the third floor. Gone were the days when a phone call from John Price moved literal armies. Now he couldn't even get fuckin’ Bill from maintenance out with a screwdriver to fix the fuckin’ lift so Jenny, eighty years old and wheelchair bound, could leave to do her groceries.

By the time Price reached the top of the first flight, his leg was burning; by the second, he was breathless from pain, and by the third, his eyes were welling with tears. The pain from his leg seemed to burn through his entire body, clutching his chest in a vice, bile and nausea building in the back of his throat, and he was having to stifle the sounds punching from his chest by biting on his knuckles.

His hands shook as he extracted his front door key, and continued to do so as he tipped more than a single dose of his strongest painkillers into his palm, the kettle hissing behind him on the countertop as he slid to the floor. He didn't wait for the tea to brew, but necked the pills dry, crunching them down in between huffing deep breaths through his nose.

There had been a time after his injury that he had believed he would recover and return to the field. A small part of him still did sometimes, but all it took was a set of stairs to truly humble him, leaving him whimpering and shaking on his kitchen floor. Pathetic, weak. How far he had fallen. He turned his face into his palms and pressed the heels hard into his eyes.

When he looked up again, the room was dark.

Price latched a hand on the edge of the countertop and pulled. His bad leg was stiff, seized with cold and aching, and his right one was numb from where he'd been sitting on it. His stumbling efforts would have made for a great Benny Hill sketch, he thought bitterly.

Once he had set the kettle reboiling and a frozen TV dinner in the microwave, Price checked his phone. One message. From his sister.

Carol (16:00): How did the appointment go?

Price glanced at the clock. 1900. Bollocks.

Price (19:00): Good.

Carol (19:01): Three hours to write that. Nice one, John.

He sighed, smacking the top of the phone into his forehead in frustration, before typing out a response.

Price (19:04): We talked about the painting thing, some old missions, and she asked me about the dating app.

Carol (19:05): did you make the profile yet?

Price (19:06): what the fuck do you think?

Carol (19:07): stop being a miserable cunt and do it

Price (19:07): No one wants to date a cripple.

He didn't send that one. It read far too much like self pity and that just turned his fucking stomach.

Price (19:07): If I wanted someone nagging me 24-7 I'd move in with you.

Carol (19:08): Prick.

Price (19:08): Yeah, tthat'd be a fine thing.

Carol (19:09): omg 😭

Carol (19:11): Gary says you never text back about games night. Kimmy wants to see you.

Gary was Carol’s “gay bff”—her words. He’d been a godsend when her bottom feeder of a husband had finally pushed the old bill too far and got himself nicked for possession with intent to sell and GBH. Price owed the bloke a lot, because he’d picked up the slack where a big brother should have been. He was pretty sure Carol had tried to set them up once, which would have gone about as well as trying to get a Labrador to date a Persian cat. Gary would have shredded Price with his kitten claws in minutes.

Price (19:12): Depends on my shifts, boss.

Carol (19:13): Ok.

Carol (19:13): Don't give up on us.

Carol had saved him enough already. She had been the one to force him to retrain at college so he could work at her salon. Physical therapy and massage. Something to do with his hands that wasn’t killing people, she’d said. Besides, she wanted to attract more male clientele and his machismo would make them feel less emasculated about seeking support. He felt like there had been a hidden barb there, but hadn’t pressed. Price swallowed the lump in his throat and stared into his dark kitchen for a moment before he replied.

Price (19:14): trying

Carol (19:15): I know

Carol (19:15): love you big bro

Price (19:16): love you too, love to Kimmy.

He shoved his phone into his pocket as he poured his tea, taking it black despite the presence of milk in the fridge. That was at the other end of the kitchen and the pain killers hadn’t yet kicked in properly. His microwave meal seemed more or less cooked through, the steam searing his fingertips as he tugged off the plastic lid, so grabbed a fork and headed into the dark sanctity of his living room.

His flat had always been sparse, with basic furniture, a handful of books and family photographs. None of the ‘homely’ touches you’d expect of a home. In all fairness, he had never spent a lot of time here—only a few days leave if he’d been at a loose end. But even then he had preferred sleeping in Carol’s spare room, doing the school run in the mornings so she could have a less hectic start to the day, and making sure the house was clean, that there was something edible on the table in the evenings. Fat chance of that now. She didn’t need another deadbeat arsehole on her couch twenty-four hours a day. She’d done her time with that bullshit. So Price had only visited a handful of times since being discharged; once to take a look at a leak under the kitchen sink, and then to check the weird noise her car had been making when the temperature dropped.

Price slumped into the permanent dip of the right hand sofa cushion and took a moment to bask in the relief, tea and dinner hovering over his lap. Some days, he wanted to stay on the damn sofa and rot into it, but the stubborn streak that had managed to survive the last few months wouldn’t let him. He had to be doing something—anything—even if that was hobbling about the supermarket for Jenny while the lift was out of action. A last, defiant stand against the listless void left behind when they had taken the service from him.

He dug the clicker from where it had fallen down the side of the cushion and turned over just in time for the opening credits of Coronation Street, blowing over the heap of white rice and tasteless curry in front of his mouth. His mind faded out into white noise as he ate mechanically and knocked back his tea to wash the taste away. The episode hadn’t even finished before he was pulling the fleece blanket from the other cushion over his lap, eyes drooping closed. He checked his phone once more before he placed it on the lamp table for the final time.

The storm outside picked up a notch and Price felt it tremour through the old building, and he watched the rain lash against the balcony windows as fitful sleep dragged him under.

��

“This is Bravo Six in the blind; Watcher—ahh, Watcher, do you c-copy?”

Static.

”Kate… Kate, please… fuh-ck, Watcher, this S-six in—“

The rubble above his head moved. He held his breath. There was nowhere for him to move. Nowhere for him to run. It had taken an eternity to wrestle his arm free enough to get to his radio. If the rubble shifted now, it would crush him.

The pain was blinding. Like white hot pokers stabbing through every muscle. If he hadn’t been able to move his arm, he would have assumed his spine or neck were broken. Maybe both. He could feel his right leg, but not his left. Couldn’t even see it.

”Watcher, do you copy?”

Static.

”Kate, please… don’t let me die down here, don’t… please…”

His pleas were soaked up by the oppressive silence. The muffled, muted space that seemed to swallow his voice.

Suffocating nothingness.

Static.

He couldn’t move. Not an inch. His trap was closing in. Crushing him. Several tons of concrete and steel pressing down on his ribs, his legs. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t breathe.

—

Waking up felt like he was having to claw himself out from beneath that rubble himself, chest heaving, the neck of his t-shirt stained dark as he fought his way back to the surface. Early morning light was leaking through the balcony door, the spots of rain still clinging to the glass making the living room glitter like a disco ball hung from the ceiling. He lifted a shaking hand from beneath the fleece and smoothed his damp hair back over his head, mentally counting through the grounding exercises Sally had taught him.

Feel, see, hear, touch.

Like he’d been run over by a Challenger—his ceiling—phone alarm—blanket.

Price threw out a hand and managed to swipe his damn phone off the table. Cussing and snarling, he slumped onto the floor, fishing it out from beneath the lamp stand. He didn’t have enough energy to climb his way back onto the sofa, so he sat there once he’d switched the alarm off, staring into space. The world slowly filtered back in, his senses spreading out through the room, latching onto anything that connected him to the reality outside his head. Unfortunately, that also brought with it the constant dull throb of pain in his left side.

That last mission had been the final crack in a dam he hadn’t even been aware of. Over twenty years of difficult operations in the most inhospitable environs and his mind had soldiered through, unbroken, robust. Colleagues and friends had fallen before him, so he knew what post-traumatic stress disorder looked like, but it was something that happened to other people. Not him. Not in a million fuckin’ years.

But leave him trapped under some rubble for a few hours and suddenly every difficult experience, every interrogation, every period spent trapped behind enemy lines at their mercy, every close call, every fallen soldier, they all came flooding back like vengeful demons that had been caged in the pits of hell to tear off their pound of flesh.

The nightmares weren’t always the same. Sometimes, his subconscious decided to dredge up an experience from over a decade ago to torture him with. A few nights ago, it had been the interrogation that had left him with burn scars over his lower back. A month spent in an Al Qatala detention facility before Mac had extracted him. He hadn’t broken—had given them bloody nothing—and had passed the psych eval after that one with flying colours. Even the psychologist had been a little suspicious—impressed, but suspicious. Turned out all he’d done was squash it all so far down that it was invisible to a prying eye, and then managed to trick himself that he was just made of stronger stuff than average.

He was good at that though: keeping secrets. Pretending, manipulation, getting what he wanted out of people. Out of himself. It was no surprise that he’d got so good at it over the years that he had managed to dupe even himself into believing what he needed to get the job done. Stupid wanker.

Price scowled as he rolled to his feet, wobbling unsteadily at first as he regained his balance, before limping into his bedroom. He had a quick shower to wash the sweat off and threw on his gym kit. Just because his lower half was useless, that didn’t mean he couldn’t keep the rest of him in shape. The physio had told him to keep it light, that everything in his body was connected and his nervous system needed time to adjust, and he had nodded along.

Truth was, he liked the burn of it. It felt like punishment. A punishment that he could control. It was both proof that he was still, physically, worth something and a way to chastise the parts of himself that weren’t as strong as they used to be. John left the house just as his morning alarm went off.

He ignored the sideways glances from the reception staff as he limped through the automatic barriers, his car parked in the second row back because he couldn’t quite bring himself to use the damn blue badge the council had given him when Carol had completed the forms on his behalf.

This early in the morning, the gym was more or less empty. There were a few night shifters getting their end of day workout in at the squat racks, so Price dumped his gym bag by a bench in front of the dumbbells. The powerlifter to the right glanced at him as he grabbed 26kg for a warm up set, and from that point on he let his mind go blank. All that existed as he worked his way through his ‘push day’ was the burn in his shoulders, his chest, down his spine. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend he was in the gym in Credenhill, with Ghost grunting on his right and Soap pausing to take yet another selfie on his left…

His phone trilled.

He dropped the dumbbells to the floor at his feet and snatched it from his bag. He hated himself for feeling disappointment when he saw his sister’s name.

“Wotcha, love, everyfin’ ok?” He slumped back on the bench, spare arm dangling between his legs as the burn of the lift faded.

I know it’s ya day off, but I need a favour…

”Right…”

We’ve got a regular in Chester who needs a home visit.

”Oh yeah, cheshire set, is he?”

Nah, he’s… a foreign national. Scary bloke, actually. And that’s the problem, all the girls are refusin’ t’ go.

”Did he touch one’uv‘em?”

No, no. Nothin’ like that. He’s just… scary. Lives in one of those big detached houses, and he has loads of… well, they called ‘em henchmen. Said it’s like walkin’ int’ mafia film, John.

”If he’s so bloody terrifyin’, why not jog ‘im on?”

It’s… not tha’ simple, la.

Price’s hackles went up instantly. Not that simple could mean a hundred different things, but all the dots were joining up in a way that made Price want to load his M1911 before he drove over. “Why?”

Look, I… if ya can’t do, ‘ll go meself, but…

”Don’t you bloody dare,” Price growled. “I’ll go. Send me the time, the address, what his usual is.”

He heard her breathe a sigh of relief down the phone.

Cheers, John. I… I owe y’bevvy, yeah?

“Stop tryin’ to set me up with Gary, and we’ll call it even.”

Oi, I was jus’—okay, fine. Gary is off the Price menu.

”Carol, I swear t’…” He glanced over his shoulder as the grunting behind him had gone conspicuously silent and the brief moment of eye contact was enough to make him drop his voice. “Right. Forward me the intel, and—“

She chuckled.

”Wot?”

I will forward ya the intel, big brother. Love ya, see ya later.

Price stared at the phone in his hand long after it had gone black. The heat under his skin was adrenalin. He’d recognise the bubbling rush of it anywhere; the heavy drum of his heart, the tightness in his chest. Excitement.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, get a grip,” Price mumbled as he chucked his phone into his bag and returned the weights. It was probably some sweaty billionaire who fancied himself the bloody Godfather. Normal people—people who hadn’t spent their entire adult lives fighting real mobsters, crooks and war criminals—saw a grim face and a sharp suit and were easily intimidated. Price would scope the place out and gather some more information on whatever the fuck this arsehole had on Carol, and then he would fix the problem. He was good at that. Fixing other people’s problems. It let him ignore his own for a bit longer.

#captain john price #cod nikolai #nikprice #mafia au #long fic

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beelmons · 2 years ago

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Luke Alvez x ADHD!Girlfriend (cw: mentions of mental disorder, light angst)

It was always fun at games with him, classic Luke Alvez. Continuously saying how cute it was how you 'obsessed' over things. Time and again teasing you lovingly whenever you would zone out during conversations. Without fail, mentioning that you would be lost without him reminding you when to eat, and that it made him feel special.

Good ol' Luke, always looking at the bright side, always breezing through life. He'd hold you through the night whenever the anxiety randomly spiked, he'd reassure you that your mental disorder didn't define you, that you were more than that, that you were enough. He loved you, he really did.

But at the end of the day, it wasn't him who had to live with that disease. It was you. He didn't have to stay up, restless, due to random insomnia. He didn't have to set a million alarms to take just one pill. He didn't beat himself up whenever he was unable to do something simple, a mundane chore, just because his brain wouldn't respond. He got to go home, do his dishes, wash his laundry, and be okay. He didn't have to live with your faulty brain. Oh, but, alas he did have to live with you.

"I work hard. I work really hard. I don't think I'm asking for a lot here." he complained regarding the tidiness of the apartment you had had to yourself for almost a week. It wasn't common for him to lose his cool, but when he did, you had to brace yourself. He would never hurt you, no, but you would feel him far away, so far away despite being in the same room, that he might as well hold a dagger to your chest. That would pain you a lot less.

It had been little over six months since the two of you moved in together. The military-style routine that he had was benefitial to you, he'd drag you along for breakfast, motivate you into a quick workout, tease you into taking your pills. It was good for you, he was good for you. Everything was okay, until he was gone, and the facade of being a functional adult crumbled to the ground.

A slow forming knot began to grow within the walls of your throat. Was this the same man who months before professed eternal devotion to you only? It was hard to tell. Perhaps, he wasn't ready. Ready to deal with someone like you. You hugged your body trying to contain your tears, yet before you were able to talk, his phone beeped. He took a look and held back a curse word at the name that appeared on the screen.

"Emily?" you asked while you read the twinkling screen, and you were well aware what that meant. He nodded, his lips pursing in anger, he stared a couple of seconds longer, and finally he decided to leave the phone face down on the table. "Come on, Luke, don't be silly, I'm sure it's important." you grunted, taking the phone and picking up right away "Hey, Em." your boyfriend's boss greeted you with confusion "He's right here." you said before giving the phone to Luke.

He looked at you with disappointment, yet he took the device and pressed it to his ear "Yeah, boss. I understand. I'll be right there." he hung up the phone after the line went dead, and he made a frustrated movement with his hand.

"It's okay." you said reassuringly "I promise, we can discuss this when you come back."

You didn't exchange 'I love you's as you usually would, instead, he just grabbed the go-bag he had recently left on the floor and left through the same door he had just entered about half an hour ago.

He didn't call you the entire trip, not even to let you know he had landed safely, and sunk in your own deprecating thoughts, you didn't bring yourself to text him either.

The case was slightly complicated, and he knew he was going to be away for a little bit, still, he didn't gather the courage to call you to let you know. At least, not until the next day, when he was standing in the local precinct, being briefed about a crime, and his smartwatch started to vibrate with an alarm.

'Pill time!' the screen read. Since you had told him your pill schedule, he had set an alam himself to remind you to take it, even when he was away; he'd always take a second to call you and double check.

"Hey, Emily, I really need to make a call, do you mind if I step out for a second?" he asked apologetically.

"Lovers quarrel?" she brillantly deducted, but Luke couldn't bring himself to answer "Go. And, Luke, I know what this job can do to relationships. If you need to go back home, let me know." she reassured and he nodded in gratitude.

He moved away to a less concurred area to dial your number. He prayed you would still be content enough to pick up, and thankfully you did. "Hey" he said as soon as the call connected.

"Hey. Is everything okay?" you asked on the other side.

"Yeah, I just..." he made a slight pause "Have you taken your pills?" he inquired and you simply responded with silence; he quickly picked up on the cue "What did you have for breakfast?" he changed the question

"Half a bagel." you answered with slight shame, aware that he was probably judging you.

It angered him, honestly, that you couldn't take care of yourself, but at the same time, he knew, he struggled to understand, but he knew sometimes you just couldn't; what was really eating him was not that you didn't, it was that he couldn't be there to do it for you. "I'm coming home." he said resolutely.

"Luke, don't. I'm sorry, I'll try harder." you said, your voice starting to sound a little broken "I don't want you to end up resenting me if something happens with your job."

"What are you talking about?" he was taken aback by your confession "I could never resent you. I said something stupid, but at the end of the day I love you, and I want you to be okay."

"Sometimes it's just hard." you sobbed into the phone.

"I get it." he tried to comfort you. "Listen, we'll talk properly when I come back, but for now I need you to do me a favor. Get off the bed, drink at least one liter of water, take your pills, and for the love of god, order something to eat, and don't go sneaking bites to roxy." he said, his voice relaxing a little, coming out as his usual careless tone.

"Alright." your breath began to calm down "Thank you for being so patient with me."

"Hey, you love me enough to put up with my job, right?" he smiled to himself as he spoke "I can love you enough to be kind to that brain of yours."

#luke alvez #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez/reader #luke x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds blurb #adhd reader #crminal minds luke alvez #luke alvez blurb #luke alvez fanfic #luke alvez fic #blurb: mine #blurb: luke #blurb: criminal minds #this took me so long #but its cute hehe

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kingshopofficiel · 1 year ago

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Discount offers

COLMI P73 1.9" Outdoor Military Smart Watch Men Bluetooth Call Smartwatch For Xiaomi Android IOS, IP68 Waterproof Fitness Watch

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#electronic #smartwatch #united states #online shop #rolex #dailywatch #watchuseek #seiko #onlineshopping #watchporn #watchcollection

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dearweirdme · 2 years ago

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Hi!

So, I wanted to ask what are your thoughts on Taekook not appearing in a new Samsung campaign.

So, in the last 24 hours Samsung held their Unpacked event where they presented new flip and fold phones, as well as a smartwatch and a tablet. Yoongi was the only member who actually attended the event. Makes sense to me since he is an obvious loyal fan of the brand and also the one who composed several ringtone for them. As the event was happening/happened official Samsung accs posted two set of pictures of the members holding the phones. Here's one of the threads.

https://twitter.com/SamsungMobileUS/status/1684292504932302854?t=q8znW-FwoiAbb6nAbE1LJQ&s=19

As you can see only 4 members are there. Namjoon, Yoongi, Hobi And Jimin.

Some people started wondering why Taekook hasn't made an appearance (the campaign was obviously shot after Jin enlisted so no mystery here). Some think that maybe two of them didn't renew but I don't think it's true.

I, in my head, came with a few theories.

First of all, I think that Taekook will appear in the next campaign for their new galaxy phones that will come out in the beginning of 2024 (Feb / Mar).

Now, the reason for that maybe either solely due to the contract with Samsung running out or also planned around Taekook's later album releases and enlistment.

In the first case, the contract is ending so Samsung decided to split the last appearance by the group in two (since they can't get OT7 anyway) or probably even three with Jin advertising similar product a year later after discharge. So now it's NJ, YG, HS and JM, Taekook in Feb and Jin a year later. And after that contract finished. (Samsung may be also trying to stretch their appearances until full discharge of all the members in 2025)

In the other case, maybe NJ, YG, HS and JM advertising now because NJ, YG and JM will soon all go to the military after NJ and JM release (?) their projects. That will leave Tae and JK to do the galaxy campaign in Feb together while releasing their albums in late 2023 and possibly in early 2024. And then they enlist together.

I feel like this Samsung ad split confirms (sort of) that NJ, YG and JM will leave (together) sooner than Taekook.

So what do you think, is it simply Samsung trying to smoothly finish the contract) wait till full discharge to renew) OR it has something to do with album and enlistment plans?

Hi @madmadmadalice!

I'm not actually sure what to think of it. But, I do think it's possible Tae and Jk just didn't sign on for Samsung this time. Assuming there hasn't been a longstanding contract to abide to, they do have the luxury of choosing this time maybe. It coud be a case of schedules not matching even. I don't see this as much of a big deal, though it does stand out. Maybe you are right and they will appear in a different add later on. We'll have to see how it goes. THings like this often start making more sense after some time has passed.

I do think Namjoon and Yoongi will be enlisting soon. Jimin is a complete mystery to me, since some things make it look like he will have another album out.

#solo era

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writerrelapse · 2 years ago

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It Rains Aboard the February

Short thing I wrote while abroad. SciFi Horrorish? Might revisit some time to do more with it.

Please check out the tags for trigger warnings. Gonna list 'em up here too:

#tw child death #tw blood #tw gore #tw overt racism #tw mention of unaliving

"I heard this thing can go twice as fast as those military planes. You know, the ones radar can't see," said Markus, watching the sun arc over the curve of the world from the porthole of the February. He swirled his cocktail in one hand, pressed a finger to the impossibly thick glass.

"Are you all set, sir?" the server at his elbow asked. Her nametag said something he didn't know how to pronounce.

"Sure," he replied, waving her away.

She left with a click of heels and the whoosh of heavily filtered air. He'd have to tell Lockheed about the sound the door made--too loud, disruptive. The instinct to check his smartwatch came and went. He was supposed to be on vacation; no emails, no conference calls--something cold touched the back of his neck and he wiped at it, distracted by the swirl of clouds over Canada. If he asked, maybe the pilot would let him use one of the telescopes to find Sarah sitting on the back porch of her mother's house where she'd fled from the states, from him, her hands dirty with garden dirt.

Markus drank the rest of his cocktail, nose wrinkling. Vacation, he reminded himself. He was in orbit on Lockheed's dime, for chrissakes. Jettisoned as far away from everything as humanly possible by the fuel of grit and prosperity, good service, good practice and long nights standing between Lockheed and the budding union heads in untailored suits.

He left the lounge for the spa. A massage would get his mind off things.

***

Stretched out on his stomach, he floated in the red warmth behind his eyelids, Anita's blunt knuckles kneading at a knot in the meat of his shoulder. He grunted when her weight bore down.

Anita asked, "Good? Bad?"

"Fine," he said. A little pain meant it was working. The white noise playing from the ceiling speakers changed to the hiss of soft rain, the hum of an engine, the padding under him fine Italian leather. "Can you change the noise?" he asked.

The masseuse hummed, her soft footsteps going to the side table. "Batteries are dead. Lo siento, I will find more," she apologized, hurrying out.

Markus grumbled and shifted on the table under the towel. Water hit him, cold and wet, slithering down his arm. "Anita, what the fuck is leaking?" he called.

"La lluvia," said a girl's voice above the sound of traffic and water dripping into a gutter.

Markus shoved himself up onto his elbows and craned his neck. Who the fuck had brought their kid--

She stood in a paisley raincoat in the shadow beyond the doorway, dripping water onto the shining plex floor.

Markus grabbed at the towel around his waist, scrambling off the table. He slipped and landed hard on his hip, "Fuck." He could see her small legs and her rainboots between the legs of the massage table.

Don't worry, Lockheed had told him. We'll deal with it. It was raining. You didn't see her. You hydroplaned. Accidents happen. The car was brand new and so fast, he wasn't used to it yet, he didn't know how the light had been red. Horrible tragedy, not worthy of manslaughter, your honor. Mister Markus Holland regrets--

"La lluvia," said the girl in the raincoat.

Then it poured in buckets, soaking through his towel, hammering against his shoulders. The room would fill. He would drown. No matter the sleeping pills, the drinks, the company bonuses--he would drown.

"Mister Holland," Anita said, standing over him, brown eyes large and worried, dry. "Did you fall?"

No girl, no water. Markus clambered to his feet. "No, I--did you bring a goddamn kid here?" he yelled. He must've seen her welfare brat running around somewhere and it made him remember.

Anita blinked. "No, no there are no children on the ship, Mister Holland," she answered. "Do you...want me to work more on you or?"

Markus stormed out, tying the towel at his waist with shaking fingers. He should've been keeping up with the sleeping pills, even if they made him feel like shit in the morning. Lack of sleep could make a person hallucinate. In his room he took a dose, pulled on a pair of lounge pants and went to the large, plush bed to wait for them to kick in and his heart to stop hammering. It wasn't his fault. The Porsche had been fast--his first luxury car--the rain had been dense. Could happen to anyone.

The ceiling was made of asphalt, glistening with water and puddle mirrors. Her body was crumpled against the drain, leg at a wrong angle, fingers curled limp and pale.

He opened his mouth to scream. Water dripped from her hair into the back of his throat. No, no. It had been--

"La lluvia," she said, head lolling like it would come off.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry--"

Her eyes looked at him, glassy and discolored. One disoriented in the socket and showing pink muscle.

"They needed me. I was their golden boy. I couldn't go down for--for--"

Droplets let go from her fingers, tinged with red as they hit his face. The girl's eyes had been the same hazel as Sarah's as she'd served him divorce papers,"You can keep the car."

"I don't want the car. I don't want the money."

"You did, and you got them."

***

Sarah stretched out on the weathered porch boards, giving her back a break from pulling weeds out of the vegetable bed. The rabbits had done a number on it but she had more chicken wire coming. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she checked the number. 'Ralph LOCKHEED.' She didn't remember his last name anymore. Not that it mattered. She answered him with, "If you're going to try and apologize for Markus again, I'm tossing my phone in the creek."

"No," he answered quickly. "Don't hang up. Listen, Markus passed. The cops are investigating because he left a will. Emailed it out just before his death. He left you a lot of his assets. The rest are going to the mother of that girl he hit and, get this, a couple union heads he'd busted."

Sarah heard herself ask, "Did he kill himself?"

"That's the story the cops are going with, but here's the thing. He drowned."

"But...he was on the February, right? That fancy billionaire's spaceship?"

"Yes,” Ralph answered. “And he drowned."

#actual content #tw child death #tw blood #tw gore #tw overt racism #tw mention of unaliving

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semiconductorandtechnology · 22 hours ago

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Wearable Sensors Market Report: Key Trends & Future Growth Prospects

Introduction:

The growing adoption of smart wearable technology has significantly fueled the expansion of the Wearable Sensors Market. These sensors enable continuous health monitoring, fitness tracking, and real-time environmental assessments, making them indispensable in consumer electronics, healthcare, and industrial applications. The increasing focus on personal health and the need for non-invasive diagnostic solutions are driving the demand for wearable sensors across the globe.

The Wearable Sensors Market is benefiting from technological advancements in sensor miniaturization, AI integration, and improved connectivity through IoT. The rise of remote patient monitoring, coupled with the increasing use of wearable devices in sports, defense, and augmented reality applications, is further boosting market growth. With a strong push towards digital health solutions and real-time data collection, the market is poised for significant expansion in the coming years.

Market Trends & Growth Drivers:

Rising Adoption of Smart Wearables – Increased demand for fitness trackers, smartwatches, and medical monitoring devices is driving market growth.

Advancements in Sensor Technology – Continuous improvements in biosensors, motion sensors, and environmental sensors are enhancing device accuracy and efficiency.

Integration with AI and IoT – AI-powered analytics and IoT connectivity are transforming wearable sensors into real-time health and activity monitoring tools.

Growth in Remote Patient Monitoring – The increasing need for home-based health monitoring and telemedicine is fueling demand for wearable health sensors.

Expansion in Industrial & Defense Applications – Wearable sensors are being widely adopted in military, workplace safety, and industrial automation for tracking movements and physiological conditions.

Personalized Healthcare & Preventive Medicine – Wearable sensors are enabling early disease detection and proactive healthcare management, increasing their adoption in the medical sector.

Challenges:

Despite its promising growth, the Wearable Sensors Market faces challenges related to data accuracy, battery life, and high production costs. Maintaining precise readings, especially in medical-grade sensors, remains a significant hurdle due to external factors like motion interference. Additionally, battery efficiency is a major concern as wearable devices require prolonged usage without frequent charging. Privacy and security issues related to data collection and transmission also pose risks, as sensitive health and personal information are increasingly stored on cloud-based platforms. Moreover, the high cost of advanced wearable sensors may limit adoption in developing regions.

Future Outlook:

The Wearable Sensors Market is set for substantial expansion, driven by increasing investments in digital health technologies, AI-driven analytics, and IoT-enabled monitoring systems. The demand for real-time health tracking and performance monitoring will continue to grow, leading to further innovations in sensor technology and energy-efficient designs. Additionally, as healthcare systems worldwide shift towards preventive medicine, wearable sensors will play a crucial role in detecting health conditions early and reducing hospitalizations. Emerging markets, coupled with growing consumer awareness and regulatory approvals, will provide ample opportunities for manufacturers and technology providers in this sector.

Conclusion:

The Wearable Sensors Market is on an upward trajectory, fueled by technological advancements, increasing demand for smart wearables, and the rising importance of health monitoring. While challenges related to cost, battery life, and data security persist, ongoing innovations and industry collaborations are expected to overcome these hurdles. As wearable sensors become more sophisticated and accessible, they will continue to shape the future of healthcare, fitness, and industrial applications, making them a vital component of the evolving digital landscape.

Read More Insights @https://www.snsinsider.com/reports/wearable-sensors-market-4566

Akash Anand – Head of Business Development & Strategy

Phone: +1-415-230-0044 (US) | +91-7798602273 (IND)

#Wearable Sensors Market Report

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