#tech watch price

[techalertr]

Computer Kharidne se Pehle ye video jarur dekhen | How to configure PC | कंप्यूटर कैसे खरीदें https://youtu.be/Sg5dx97iXRw

#TechAlert #computer #tipsandtricks #instagram #trending #pc #partspicker #buynow #technical #technology #howto #Motherboard #Price #quotation

[ask-calico-jack]

drug recs for a first time drug doer? I've drunk alcohol obviously but never done anything harder.

Other than booze which I love, Rhino Horn is definitely my favorite. Helps me get shit done but is also fun. But it's not like that for everybody. Eddie basically only does it when he's in a mood and Mary doesn't fuck with it at all, she's more of a stoner than a tweaker. Weeds fun every once in a while. I don't really like opium because you just sit around and nod off. You feel really happy but you don't do much and I like to be doing shit. Can't have a coconut war on opium, and it's a bit of a waste of medical supplies anyway. I basically only do it if there's nothing else on the boat. Mushrooms are great for an afternoon, kinda like weed in that it's for a special occasion where you want to sit around and giggle at stupid shit. You know if you mix mushrooms with lemon juice it dissolves em a little bit and it doesn't last as long but it hits you way harder.

[fragilecorpse]

I don't like that my watch isn't accurate with my step count like i have been walking around all morning doing stuff and it said 0 up until like an hour ago now it's only saying 373 it's defs way more than that but also google ceo can die before I purchase another fucking watch

Also the fitbit app isn't reliable at all anymore and will often show yesterdays stats as todays and it won't save if you log weight updates and will pick random days when u log food there are no upsides it's just miserable to use

[lizziesangel]

RAFE CAMERON ⟢ high maintenance

x HIGH MAINTENANCE!FEM!reader ⟢ MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: 5 times rafe realises his girlfriend is high maintenance + 2 bonus scenes

WORD COUNT: 1286

GENRE: fluff

CONTENT WARNING: nothing

the first time

it started when rafe picked you up for a casual day out, only to find you carefully examining your nails in the passenger seat.

“ugh,” you groaned, holding out your hand to show him. “can you believe this? this nail tech totally botched this set. the gems aren’t even symmetrical.”

rafe glanced at your hand, blinking in confusion. “they look… fine to me?”

you shot him a glare. “fine? they’re crooked, rafe. i can’t be seen like this.”

“whatever, i’ll just go to my monthly nail tech next time,” you shook your head.

“monthly? as in, every month?” he asked, leaning in his car seat.

“of course,” you said, flipping your hair as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “you can’t just let them grow out, rafe. that’s tacky.”

you kissed his cheek and went to connect your phone with his car. he thought about at meticulously done french tips you just had done two weeks ago. if it makes you happy, right?

the second time

the first time he tried to make spontaneous plans with you was a disaster.

“hey, babe,” he said over the phone, “thinking we hit the beach today. i’ll be there in twenty.”

A horrified gasp escaped you. “twenty minutes? babe, no. i just had my hair done yesterday.”

“…and?”

“and? saltwater will ruin the toner!” you exclaimed like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “do you even know how much a balayage costs?”

rafe didn’t know what a balayage was, but he learned quickly that your trips to the salon were not just occasional—they were events. events with price tags that could make a grown man cry. still, he couldn’t help but smirk as you swished your freshly done hair around dramatically during your next date

the third time

when you asked rafe to come shopping with you, he thought it’d be a quick errand—maybe one or two stores, tops. he quickly realized his mistake when you pulled him into the fifth boutique, arms already laden with bags.

two hours and three swiped credit cards later, rafe sat on a plush bench outside the fitting rooms, holding more bags than he could count.

“this season’s prada bag is finally in stock,” you announced, practically dragging him into the store. “and i need something new for dinner with my parents.”

“don’t you already have a closet full of clothes?” he teased as you rifled through racks.

“yes, but these are the new trends,” you said without looking up. “and besides, i need something for dinner this weekend.”

he laughed, shaking his head. “you already have a hundred dresses.”

“and yet none of them are right for this,” you said, holding up a sleek black gown.

“you buy new clothes every month?” he asked, watching as you tried on yet another dress.

“obviously,” you said, rolling your eyes. “what do you expect me to do, repeat outfits?”

rafe had never thought about it, but seeing how happy you looked with your fresh haul, he just laughed. “good thing i’m strong enough to carry all this,” he teased.

the fourth time

rafe was over at your place for a movie night when he spotted the lineup of perfume bottles on your dresser.

“do you seriously wear all of these?” he asked, picking one up.

“of course,” you said, settling onto the bed. “different occasions call for different scents. this one’s for daytime, that one’s for formal events, and this—” you pointed at another bottle, “—is my absolute favorite.”

rafe blinked. “you have a preference for perfumes?”

“well, duh. scent is everything. i buy a new one every season,” you say showing him a few. “like, this jimmy choo one is for summer, but this guess one is definitely for winter. but, the versace is for every season good.”

he squinted at the price tag on the one he was holding and let out a low whistle. “how often do you buy these?”

“whenever i run out or find a new one i love,” you said matter-of-factly.

rafe thought about his one bottle of cologne that he’d had for years and shook his head in disbelief. but when you leaned closer during the movie and he caught the faint scent of your perfume, he couldn’t deny that you always smelled amazing.

the fifth time

waking up groggy, rafe stumbled what your walk-in closet while looking for the bathroom. What greeted him was a wall of shoes—heels, sneakers, boots, all perfectly organized by color and style.

“jeez,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“oh, you’re up!” you chirped, appearing behind him. “do you like it? i just added those Jimmy Choos last week.”

rafe turned to you, half-amused, half-shocked. “you have more shoes than i have shirts.”

you grinned, unabashed. “well, yeah. shoes complete the look.”

shaking his head, rafe pulled you into his arms. “you’re insane, you know that?” he said, though the affection in his voice betrayed him.

you smirked. “but you wouldn’t change a thing.”

he kissed your forehead. “not even if i wanted to.”

+1

sarah and john b were lounging in the living room, casually catching up with rafe and you. you were perched on the arm of rafe’s chair, fiddling with your phone, when sarah suddenly leaned forward and sniffed the air dramatically.

“wait,” she said, scrunching her nose slightly. “what perfume are you wearing? it smells… expensive.”

you barely looked up, but rafe beat you to it. without hesitation, he leaned back and said, “probably something from her summer collection. she switches them every season.”

sarah froze, staring at her brother like he’d just announced he was running for president. “her what?”

rafe nodded casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “yeah, she’s into, like, jimmy choo or victoria’s secret or whatever. smells good, right?”

john b raised an eyebrow, looking between you and rafe. “dude, you know all her perfume brands?”

he shrugged, smirking as he kissed your temple. “gotta stay on top of it, man.”

sarah exchanged a wide-eyed look with john b, but you just beamed at rafe, completely unfazed.

+2

rafe, topper, and kelcd were hanging out on the dock, beers in hand, waiting for you to finish getting ready for dinner. the two were deep in conversation about their latest antics when rafe’s phone buzzed.

he glanced at the message and smirked.

“she says she needs ten more minutes,” rafe said, pocketing his phone.

topper groaned. “bro, she takes forever. what’s even the holdup this time?”

“probably her nails,” rafe said nonchalantly, taking a sip of his beer. “she just got them done last week, and there’s no way she’s ruining them before dinner.”

kelce nearly spit out his drink. “what?”

topper leaned forward, eyes wide. “hold up—you know her nail schedule? and her hair appointments?”

“something to do with chrome nails, i dunno.”

“dude,” kelce finally said, breaking the silence. “you’re, like… domesticated.”

“and she’s got that fresh hair thing going on too,” he added, shrugging. “she just had an appointment like… two weeks ago? a balayage, she won’t let anything mess with it. saltwater, wind, whatever—she’s not about that life.”

topper and kelce stared at him like he’d grown a second head.

“what is a balgage?”

“no- a balayage.”

“how do you even know all that?” topper asked, baffled.

rafe frowned, genuinely confused by their reaction. “what do you mean? it’s just her routine. not that hard to keep track of.”

kelce laughed, shaking his head. “dude, you’ve got it bad. like, whipped bad.”

rafe rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the grin tugging at his lips. “maybe. but, hey, at least i get to date a princess.”

[sunni-stuff]

Thinkin' about stalker!Ghost who helps you in little ways.

He became infatuated with you the moment you started your shift at the pub. He subtly kept tabs on you from that day forward, showing up whenever you were on the clock, watching as you tended to unruly patrons each night.

How pretty you were, rolling your eyes as drunken regular asked for your number, a common occurrence on your work days. It irks him, seeing some bastard constantly pester you as if you hadn't shut him down countless times now.

The very next night, the regular doesn't show up, giving you a load off the usual flirtatious annoyance. You were quite caught up in your own life, work, and everything else taking precedence. You didn't have time to notice how that one day turned into countless weeks of uninterrupted work, simply serving drinks and going home.

Ghost watches you on your off days as well, keeping a safe distance while you get your nails done, sitting lovely on a cushion, hands outstretched while the nail tech paints them your favorite color.

He's seen it practically all over your apartment.

Once the tech is finished, you disappeared into the bathroom, giving Ghost the opening he needed. He stepped inside, the intensity of his gaze and build, drawing attention from the patrons. Without much said, he pays for your nails, having no problem swiping that card of his, asking to remain anonymous. He leaves just before you return, smirking to himself at your surprise face as you return, the owner telling you that your nails were paid off.

Wow, must be your lucky day!

After getting your nails done, you took a quick trip to the store, browsing for clothes when a stunning black dress connected to a hefty price catches your attention. It's gorgeous, could be worn on a date or a girls night with your friends but you weren't made out of money.

Huffing a disappointed sigh, you leave without buying it, sparing the alluring dress one last glance before going home. Hours later that night, as you were getting ready for bed, the sound of knocking at your door caught your attention.

In your nightgown, you opened the door and were greeted by a black box sitting out on your welcome mat. For a moment, you looked around, hoping to catch whoever left the mysterious package only to be met with silence and the sound of crickets chirping. Bending down, you picked up the box and flipped open the top, eyes widening at the sight of the dress from the store and with it a note.

"Anything else you want?"

[ur-mag]

Drivers warned to watch out for auto body shop scams this winter after ‘astonishing’ prices for basic services revealed | In Trend Today

Drivers warned to watch out for auto body shop scams this winter after ‘astonishing’ prices for basic services revealed Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

[piyushflip]

top 5 smart watches

Introducing the epitome of luxury and technology – our state-of-the-art smartwatch. Crafted with precision and care, this watch is the ultimate companion for the modern-day individual who values style and sophistication, without sacrificing functionality.

1. Fire-Boltt Blizzard is a pure luxury smartwatch made with Stainless Steel featuring a rotating crown & High Technology Ceramic

2. 1.28″ Display packed with Bluetooth Calling functions, with built in mic & speaker | AI Voice Assistant & 120 Sports Modes | Built In Games

3. Best In Class Design – Fire-Boltt Blizzard comes with 3 buttons, 1 with a rotating crown having anti-corrosion properties and the other 2 are push buttons

4. Complete Health Tracking – With luxury comes health, Fire-Boltt Blizzard has you covered while it tracks SpO2, Heart Rate & monitors Sleep | Water Resistant with IP67 Rating

With Call Function

Touchscreen

Fitness & Outdoor, Health & Medical, Watchphone

[codnasties]

omg cheater!ghost cheating on his faithful little wife so his captain fucks her and makes him watch.

price teching cheater!ghost a lesson 🚬 (🌽 link)

price may not be much older, but with the way he acts sometimes and the parental figure he is for some of his fellow soldiers, it may seem like it. it also shows in the traditional mentality he has. and as a more traditional man, he likes to uphold those values.

when he got to know - through other soldiers and not the man himself - that ghost had been cheating on his wife for some months now, angry is the wrong adjective to describe his feelings. because on top of all, he was disappointed.

he didn't understand how simon could go behind the back of the faithful sweet little thing he ha back home and fuck other women. because price would KILL to have someone like you all for himself. and he feels like he needs to remind his lieutenant just that.

so he fucks you. nicely. the way simon should have been fucking you. he pushes your head into the soft matress, making you arch your back and push you ass high into the air as he abuses your pussy with that thick cock of his. and of course the captain has simon fully tied up, sitting in a chair right next to the bed, and looking at his superior fuck into his wife. the man suddenly feels bad but also jealous, because that HIS wife, for fucks sake.

john even leaves a small gift inside of you - his cum - to remind ghost of where his mind should be and make him remember that he has a wife to look out for he defenitely didn't fill you with his cum trying to get you pregnant with his baby so you could leave simon behind and marry him instead

[evilgwrl]

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ evilgwrl presents:

L.T. Simon “Ghost” Riley

The Masterlist

MDNI

Series:

Girl Next Door (Neighbour!Simon):

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven

Mini-Series:

You Want a Divorce?: One, Two

One-Shots:

Can You Ride?

Summary: Simon can’t wait to get home

Paris (feat. König)

Summary: You were bored at home so your roommates give you a visit to the Eiffel Tower!

Back Door

Summary: Simon wanted to explore more than just your pussy

Breeding

Summary: Simon needs you pregnant

Panic Attack (feat. Soap)

Summary: Soap and Ghost comfort you

Drabbles:

Neighbour!Simon Riley

ExHusband!Simon Riley

Massages with Simon

Love at First Sight

One Bed

Roommates (feat. Soap)

Teeth Marks

Period Sex (Requested)

Boyfriend!Simon

Deep Throat

Double Dicked (feat. Price)

Enamoured

Competition (feat. Soap)

Reading to your Daughter

Pussy Eating

Simon VS Ghost

Barista

Wrong Hole (Requested)

Somnophilia

Mommy (Requested)

Possessive

Roommate!Simon

Jealousy

Home is You

Feral

I'm Home

Hawk (Requested)

Always Fits

Pregnancy Sex

Do You Like it? [Plus-size!reader] (Requested)

A/B/O Dynamics

Alpha!Simon

Dark!Simon Riley (DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT):

Stalker!Simon Riley

Always Watching

IT Tech!Simon

Stranger

Want more?

Poly!141

König

Captain John Price

[alexiroflife]

being married to gojo as an actress while playing the role of a villain...

au, fluff, some suggestive themes, cheating themes

🌟🌟🌟

both you, satoru, and probably the rest of the world can confidently say that satoru is your biggest fan. while he is fully successful within his own career, he can not help but fawn over your achievements like a ten year old boy with one of your movie posters hung up in his room

the world does not associate either of you without the other. yes, you have individually made an outstanding name for yourself within the television and theater industry, but your fans find the two of you so adorable, so iconic that it’s impossible to imagine you without satoru gojo and satoru gojo without you

viewers are starstruck when you arrive to your film premiers with satoru on your arm, beaming pridefully as though it’s his first time walking the red carpet when that’s hardly true. you’re beautiful, and everyone knows it. the second your eyes meet a camera along with satoru’s striking blue ones, his hand wrapped snugly around your waist and your faces adorned with dazzling smiles, photographers go wild. even more so when satoru blatantly grabs your face and kisses you all over, feeding your fan pages’ content as well as his desire to constantly shower you in affection

and when it’s not at premieres, satoru’s supporting you during tours, press conferences, galas, meet and greets, sitting backstage or in the front row of the crowd or at times by your side as though he can’t bear to be away from you. when you’re being showered in appreciation, he’s flicking thousands of pictures, capturing the way you interact with your adoring admirers

satoru's grown rather used to the array of roles you have played. he's seen you in rom-coms, dramas, thrillers, actions, you name it, and though he doesn't necessarily get jealous when you have to kiss someone on screen anymore, he doesn't always appreciate some of the intimate scenes you do. despite so, he trusts you. he knows it's your job and that none of it is real, and above all, he knows the faces you make when you're truly experiencing pleasure. while you're an amazing actor, those faces you make on screen could never begin to compare to the ones he draws out of you

ever the arrogant man, however, satoru always makes it a point to remind you of who makes you feel good- who has you crossing your legs under the table as you meet with colleagues over the computer, his fingers working their way in and out of your sopping cunt off camera as you try your damndest to keep a straight face while your entire lower half is squirming- who makes a point to fuck you over the dresser of your trailer in between shoots after having brought you some coffee to help keep your energy high, rambling on about how one of the tech assistants had been looking at you for too long- who, at any event possible, will never fail to lay you back on the seat of your limo before even stepping outside, scrunching up your obscenely priced gown to eat you out as he gazes up at you over your legs

"you're so gorgeous, pretty. my pretty girl," "how lucky am i to be the only one who gets to see you like this, hm?" "fuck, baby, they have no fuckin' idea how good you feel"

even with his habits, satoru will never turn his nose up at any role you play simply because you're far too talented and simultaneously devoted to him for him to ever feel put off by your occupation. besides, he's managed to bag one of the most famous actors in the world. he truly does not think he has anything to worry about when it comes to you

satoru finds himself rather surprised, yet excited nonetheless, when he hears that you are to be playing a dislikable character in the upcoming film of the summer. you warn him that it's drastically different, that you'll be tapping into a morally poor side of yourself for this role that you have never delved into, nor really favored before

"pretty, you'll do amazing. trust me. do i get to watch you be mean to other guys? do you get to beat anyone's ass? honestly, that sounds like a dream come true" "i mean, yeah, but toru it's more than that. my character is actually a bitch. an unfaithful, abusive one. i don't know how i'm gonna do that..."

satoru knows that behind all the glitz, glamor, and fame, the occupation of an actor can be incredibly emotionally and physically taxing. you don't tell him much more about the role before rehearsals and filming starts, but he can tell over time that you're struggling with this particular film. simply because you're just too kind of a person despite how large your presence is

well into the filming process, he decides to visit you on set to serve as some extra emotional support. he's watching from behind the cameras intently as you go through a scene that's way more intense than he had previously expected, and his jaw practically drops as he watches the scene play out before him

your character is being confronted by her husband about her infidelity, and all the while as your acting partner screams at you in tears to beg you for some remorse, you lay back on a sofa with a cigarette pinched between your fingers, face completely dull and apathetic

"how could you do this to me?! to us? why won't you look at me! I say something!"

"whatever i say won't change the fact that i fucked someone else."

"...do you even care? do you care that you've ruined our relationship?"

"let's be real, there was no relationship to begin with."

"w-what do you mean?"

you stand, stubbing your cigarette into a mug, and walk over to your sniveling scene partner. the camera zooms on your face, your dead eyes, your angled brows. "i never loved you. don't you get it? you're just a pet, and you know it. so don't go crying to me about breaking something that was never promised"

satoru's eyes are wide, completely enraptured as though this scene is a real moment he is witnessing from afar. your fake husband he breaks down, dropping to his knees and clinging to you, but you curl your lips in disgust.

"get the fuck off me," you hiss, shoving him rather aggressively away. he falls, sobbing. "pathetic piece of shit."

you go to turn away, but stop and stumble. immediately you break, and gone is the merciless woman that was acting before the crew seconds ago. the light returns to your eyes as you cover your mouth in embarrassment, looking up.

"sorry, i forgot my next block," you say sweetly, timidly. "how was that?"

"perfect! let's pick up from when you turn away. once you say that last line, you-"

satoru is baffled, the director's notes falling into muffled white noise as he stares at you. he's never seen you in such a position before, one that has him questioning everything about you. and though you claimed to have a hard time with it, you were doing fucking phenomenal

he sees now what you mean about your character being... well, a horrible person for lack of a better term. he doesn't even recognize you, and he's sure your fans are going to have a field day when this film comes out. you're being shown in a drastically different light from your heroine and emotionally relatable love interest positions, and it will surely be a sight for the world to see.

during your break, you walk up to satoru tiredly and burrow your face into his chest. he wraps you up immediately, babbling about how insane you were in your scene. you look up at him with those big (e/c) eyes as he runs his hand over the back of your head.

"you think so?"

"baby, my jaw was dropped the entire time. i don't even know how you did that. you played that a little too well."

he's joking, but you still make a face of slight fear, as though you're scared of offending him. "you think it's too much?"

"no- it's a lot, but no- it's perfect. it's bold, and you do it so well."

"it doesn't make you uncomfortable?"

"why would it make me uncomfortable, pretty? i know you're acting, and it's not like you'd ever cheat on me let alone act like that," he tilts his head as a remorseful look flashes through your eyes. "are you uncomfortable?"

"i don't know... i'm just scared of how people will react... mostly because i could never picture saying this stuff to you, and i've had to do a lot of exercises to get into this toxic mindset that just... eugh. trust me, you haven't even seen the half of it."

"have you been able to take long enough breaks?"

"kinda..."

"alright, let's go chill in your trailer 'til your next call. i don't want you stressing your pretty little head about this, princess. you're doing amazing and remember, it's just a movie."

and yes, it's just a movie. a movie that has satoru twitching in his seat during the premiere at how uncomfortably awful you're acting the entire time in the film. by now, you've eased into the feel of things and are rather proud of the work you''ve done, but also happy that it's all over. you hold satoru's hand tight during some of the worst scenes, sneaking glances at him as the screen flickers intensely over his glassy eyes. you can tell he's rather moved by it all, by seeing you in such a position, and you chew harshly on the inside of your lip

when the lights come up, you're given a standing ovation initiated of course by your rather emotional husband, but in his defense, the entire room has tears in their eyes as well. satoru's clapping harshly, and you try to hide your face as grateful tears spring in your eyes, grateful for this opportunity, for your accomplishments, for the support that surrounds you

satoru wraps you in a huge hug and whispers in your ear "don't ever do what you just did in that movie to me," he whimpers, and you laugh loudly because both of you know the thought is inconceivable. "you did so so good, baby. m'so proud of how far you've come"

that night, you shower each other with love. you're wrapped up in each other's limbs, your lips meeting every part of his skin to remind him that you are still you despite the realism of the character you played, and that satoru will always be your one and only you devote yourself faithfully to for the rest of your life. when the two of you have spent yourselves, satoru holds you in the moonlit darkness of your bedroom, arms wrapped around you from behind with your back to his chest. he kisses your shoulder softly, then your cheek

"you really liked the movie, toru?" you whisper. "i loved it," he mumbles into your skin. "but, god, i thought i was gonna have a heart attack almost fifty times and that one scene with you at the bar didn't help." "i knew you were gonna say something about that!" "i can't help it, baby, you were just so heartless and scary," he pouts

[techalertr]

Sell old mobile online on cashify at best price अपना मोबाइल अब ऑनलाइन बेचें #techalert #shorts Full video : https://youtu.be/PNJEF81l98o

Welcome to our YouTube channel! In this video, we will guide you step-by-step on how to sell your used mobile online and recycle your device using Cashify. If you're looking to upgrade to a new smartphone or simply want to get rid of your old device, Cashify offers a convenient and eco-friendly solution. Cashify : https://rb.gy/0zo4a

[celestialprincesse]

You've been trawling through the contents of a mole's USB stick for days now. Dropped upon your desk one Tuesday night, passed down from Laswell, Price, and now, to you. Hours have been spent and wasted on trying to unravel ones and zeroes into something even remotely coherent. Not that you've had any great success.

Simon isn't an idiot, either. He's seen the bags beneath your eyes and the empty packet of painkillers on your desk and the way you feebly attempt to rub migraines away through your temples.

"You need to leave it." Simon's gravelly voice is nothing but background noise against the clatter of your keys as you take out your increasing frustration on your keyboard. Noting the way you don't turn at the sound of his voice, he obnoxiously clears his throat, watching the way your spine jolts ramrod straight, wincing at the way you twist to face his sudden presence.

"What?"

"You've been staring at that for days. Nothing's changed, nothing's going to change. Give it a rest."

Maybe it's the sleep deprivation, but his words have you snorting out an amused, somewhat unnervingly animal sound, head falling into your palms as you rub the gunk from your eyes - which you're convinced must be square right about now.

"It's uh - I don't know. I can't help but think that the minute I leave it alone, something will give."

"Mm." He hums with a knowing nod, spinning the seat at the other side of your desk to sit on it backwards, resting his elbows on the worn wood, leaning over to face you. "No use to any of us if you're barely awake enough to sit upright."

You give another noncommittal huff as you begin the process of turning off your laptop, practically a fortress with how many failsafes you've installed.

" -And," he continues when you finally provide him with all the attention you can in your tired state.

"I don't like seeing you like this." Simon admits, a little sheepish, as though confessing some great adoration you'd been entirely unaware of.

"And, on that note, let's get you home, yeah? Can't have my tech wiz burning out on me."

I'm baaaack! kind of! Have this lil bit of vague reader burnout fluff because I've been watching Slow Horses and obsessing over reader being in intelligence 🫠

[ladytemeraire]

The main thought ringing in my head at the three-quarter mark of Jenny Nicholson's Star Wars Hotel video is how badly Disney missed the mark on not targeting the demographic of LARPers, cosplayers, and RenFest nerds as opposed to... whoever the hell they were actually targeting, with that combination of experience and price point.

Like. Not to further out myself as a massive goddamn dork, but there was a span of nearly ten years where I was going to the Ohio RenFest at least once a season, every season. And even there, the years where I went in some form of costume and played along with the actors as opposed to wearing jeans and a t-shirt, my experience was so much richer. There was such a different level of banter and playfulness and entertainment when I actively leaned into the immersion. I had so much fun interacting with the shopkeeps and cast members as an elf or random Fantasy Medieval Maiden, because they saw the costume and on some level went, "You! You are One Of Us!" and matched that energy, and thus gave me the chance to match it in return.

(One year, early on, when my "costume" was a frilly blouse, leggings, boots, elf ears, and a hastily sewn cloak, I had a random older gentleman run up to our group, press a gold coin into my palms, kiss the back of my hand in a very respectful and courtly manner, and disappear into the crowd. No context, no further story or plot or interaction, but almost fifteen years later I still have that gold coin on a shelf of tchotchkes.)

Watching every time Jenny tried so desperately to lean into the Galactic StarCruiser/overall Star Wars experience, to actively engage with the story and the characters, only to be lowkey ignored or actively rebuffed or scorned, legitimately broke my heart a little. (The bit in the experience finale where she was like "it felt like we were supposed to respond somehow, but I didn't because it was embarrassing, which is its own form of Force torture" was simultaneously hilarious and extremely relatable and incredibly sad.) Setting aside the issues with the app and tech, let alone the refusal to address legitimate complaints until she took to Twitter, not even getting a hint of reciprocal interaction from the actors when your choices supposedly matter in your overall experience would be so incredibly disheartening.

Ohio RenFest tickets were about $20 when I started going in high school, plus whatever food and merchandise you wanted to buy. Nowadays, even with inflation, they're still only $35 for adult tickets, which gets you access to everything, and you can absolutely get a full day's experience out of that with only the additional cost for food and beverages. I cannot fathom spending six thousand fecking dollars for two days ("two dollars per person per minute" will live rent free in my head for a while) on what is supposedly an immersive experience, marketed as living out your Star Wars story, only to get the absolute bare minimum in return. It really feels like such an indicator of how modern-day Disney is willing to cut corners as much as possible while leaning on brand recognition, and especially on nostalgia, in order to milk every last red cent out of their customers, until they run out of both money and goodwill. And that is so, so incredibly sad.

[often-daydreaming]

Hobbies

"I don't know. It's only forty dollars."

"Exactly."

Danny grumbled a little as he stared down at the phone squished between him and Bart.

"But there isn't even a picture or anything. Jazz always says those are scams."

"I know but it's so cheap."

"To cheap. Forty bucks for a ray gun sounds like a scam to me."

"What if it isn't though?"

"Alright. Alright. I'm gonna buy it." Danny grinned a little revealing a set of razor sharp canines as he confirmed the purchase. "Even if it is a scam it'll still be a fun little surprise when it arrives."

-_- -_- -_-

"Yes!"

Wally barely managed to duck out of the way as a massive blast of energy tore across the training room freezing the wall behind him. Massive spikes of ice erupting from the area of impact and coating nearly the entire wall in thick sheets of dense hoarfrost.

"It's a freeze ray!"

"I bet we could freeze a volcano with this thing."

Following the cheerful voices still chattering away Wally nearly had a heart attack when he noticed Bart and Danny playing around with a massive cryo-cannon of all things.

-_- -_- -_-

"How could you even afford something like this?" Wally raised a hand to cut off whatever excuse they might have while Dick looked over the cannon. "And don't tell me you bought it cause that thing probably cost thousands."

"Is Tim behind this?"

"We've talked about him buying his friends stuff but this is a little ridiculous."

"But I did buy it."

Danny held up his phone showing them his copy of the digital receipt and shipping number causing both of the older heroes to blue screen for a second.

"What?"

"Well, we bought it but Bart agreed I could use it more since he's a speedster." And neither one of them were actually listening to him which was rude.

Bart nudged his side while they were talking, well arguing about who to call in to try and find out more about the website and Danny quickly caught on to what he wanted as they both vanished, the pair quickly escaping with their cannon while Wally and Dick were still trying to process the fact someone was actually selling highly advanced tech for dirt cheap prices.

Neither boy really cared all that much about any of their complaints since they weren't exactly breaking any rules. They bought it. They even reserved a training room to test fire it and best of all nobody got hurt so they couldn't get in trouble.

Bart just had to talk with Max before anyone else could so they had somewhere to keep everything they planned on buying while deep within the Infinity Realms Technus was handling his new hobby, kind of obsession, not really side hustle since he doesn't care about money with a renewed sense of enthusiasm as another order came in. A custom order at that which made two hole orders now and it looked like they were interested in an oddly detailed police box for some reason.

I know it isn't a good prompt but I watched a short on YouTube about a rat gun and thought it was funny enough to try and come up with something. I can just imagine the two of them giving Wally and Dick grey hairs since they're gonna buy so many weird things from Technus just to see if he can actually build it only no one will ever believe them since nobody is gonna sell a war suit or air shoes for that cheap.

[s0fter-sin]

the 141 recovering brainwashed!soap but he’s just a shell of his former self; never speaking, never moving without orders. he never even blinks; just stares straight ahead with his unnatural green eyes.

empty.

but ghost can't accept that.

price and gaz can't stand watching ghost torture himself day after day; visiting soap in his cell for hours at a time, trying anything he can think of to bring back his sergeant.

he shows him pictures of the 141 but soap thinks he's being given targets and moves to eliminate them before ghost stops him. he brings him his journal, tries to trigger his innermost thoughts and feelings he never shared with any of them, but after he reads it, soap summarises it like he's giving a mission briefing. impersonal.

cold.

it's late when ghost finally calls it; low and defeated after another long day of being stared at with eyes that don't see him. he isn't thinking when he pulls his mask off and harshly scrubs over his face, grinding his palm into his eye.

"don't worry, johnny; we're still fixin' each other's problems," he promises, little more than a whisper as he tries to summon the energy to leave johnny behind. again.

he pushes himself to his feet, his hand on the door handle when-

"what's my problem?"

ghost freezes, something like grief - something achingly closer to hope - chilling him. he slowly turns and though soap is still starring ahead, there's a faint light in his altered green eyes.

"the mask," he forces out. "take it off."

he knows there's no way to remove the mask - the muzzle - from his sergeant's face. it's too high-tech, even for them; the biometric scanner too advanced for any bypass they know of.

it's just another way he's failed him; bringing him home still bound in their enemy's chains.

soap- jolts; a sharp, almost painful looking flinch jerking his body.

"show my face?" and his voice has changed; no longer the monotone delivery that's haunted ghost's every waking moment.

it's smaller. uncertain. recollection of a memory half-destroyed.

"yes, johnny," he breathes.

soap moves unprompted for the first time since they found him; running his finger along the edge of the muzzle where his skin bulges from the pressure, half-visible scars hidden beneath the harsh metal.

"ugly," he murmurs.

ghost immediately shakes his head, almost stumbling back to the table; haphazardly throwing his mask on it. "quite the opposite," he insists.

it doesn't matter if he has no lower jaw left at all; johnny could never be ugly in his eyes.

agonisingly slowly, soap's eyes shift to the mask. he takes in the balaclava and hard shell skull like for all the times he's looked at it since his rescue, he never truly saw it. his lids fall in less of a blink and more stage curtains closing; slow, heavy, requiring effort and no small amount of strength to open once more

"good... to see you again..." he trails off, his hand shifting up to the top of his shaved head; nails digging unforgivingly into his scalp

"simon," ghost finishes for him; that horrid grieving hope tearing at his heart

soap's fingers flex and a drop of blood trails down his forehead, over the ridge of his nose to catch on the muzzle. "s-simon..."

his nails dig deeper, the drop falling to the table just to be followed by more and ghost aches to stop him but he's terrified to interrupt him. terrified to lose him now when he's so close to something.

soap's bloodied nails scratch down the crown of his head, following the line of his stolen mohawk until they come to rest on the back of the muzzle and ghost's heart drops.

they can’t get it off.

they can't get it off and he doesn't know how to explain that to soap; doesn't know if he can stomach watching soap pull at the monstrosity holding him captive, the inevitable bloodbath as the edges cut into his skin.

"show my face," soap repeats.

"johnny..." ghost begins weakly, reaching out to him but he doesn't know how, doesn't know if he even should-

the muzzle clatters onto the table.

the biometrics they couldn't bypass, the fingerprint they needed that they were so sure belonged to makarov.

it belonged to soap.

how cruel to torture him with freedom he didn't understand he could take; didn't even understand he could want.

just the kind of sick game makarov loves.

ghost doesn't know what's louder; his heart pounding in his ears or the long, uninhibited breath soap takes.

his eyes fall shut as he leans his head back with it, the blood still dripping down his face as he straightens through his exhale. his lower jaw is a mess of scars where he fought against the previous iterations of the muzzle, the corners of his lips cut through and cracked.

but the green in his eyes is duller; that light sparking brighter as blue struggles to break through the glow.

ghost's never seen anything so beautiful.

"good to see you again, johnny."

[ur-mag]

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