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#Custom Screen Protector
shieldsscreen256 · 4 months
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Best Custom Screen Protector
Adaptable to practically any screen, with custom-sized privacy and security. For protection and privacy on larger displays, 3M offers bespoke solutions.The purpose of custom screen protectors is to shield LCD touchscreen displays from scuffing and damage.For a wide variety of gadgets and screens, Custom Screen Protector offers screen protectors. They can even create a screen protector specifically for you based on your needs.
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screenshield015 · 1 year
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The Huawei Nova Y60 Screen Protector is a powerful and stylish smartphone that boasts an impressive display. However, despite its premium features, the phone's screen is still vulnerable to scratches, cracks, and other forms of damage. That's why investing in a screen protector is a smart move. A screen protector is a thin, transparent film that is applied to the phone's screen to protect it from scratches and cracks.
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blog-gift · 2 months
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iPhone 16 Pro Max: Unveiling the Features of Apple’s Latest Powerhouse
Discover the groundbreaking features of the iPhone 16 Pro Max, Apple’s latest flagship that redefines smartphone technology. Explore its innovative design, advanced camera system, and unmatched performance.
The iPhone 16 Pro Max has finally arrived, and it’s making waves as Apple’s most advanced smartphone yet. Each iteration of the iPhone brings something new and exciting, and the 16 Pro Max is no exception. Packed with state-of-the-art features, from its revolutionary design to its industry-leading performance, this flagship device is set to redefine what we expect from a smartphone. Whether you’re a tech enthusiast, a photography lover, or someone who simply wants the best mobile experience, the iPhone 16 Pro Max has something to offer. Let’s dive into the details and explore what makes this device stand out in the crowded smartphone market.
Design and Build: A New Era of Elegance
Apple has always been at the forefront of design innovation, and the iPhone 16 Pro Max continues this tradition. This model boasts an even more refined aesthetic, with sleek, flat edges that seamlessly blend into the glass back. The frame, crafted from aerospace-grade titanium, offers both durability and a lightweight feel, making the phone more comfortable to hold despite its large size. The color options are equally impressive, with new shades that capture the essence of sophistication, including Midnight Black, Frosted Silver, and a stunning new Royal Blue.
The display itself is a masterpiece. The 6.9-inch Super Retina XDR display offers vibrant colors, deep blacks, and an astounding 2000 nits peak brightness, making it perfect for outdoor use. With ProMotion technology providing a 120Hz refresh rate, scrolling and animations are smoother than ever. This display isn’t just about visuals; it’s also tougher, thanks to the latest Ceramic Shield that offers unparalleled protection against drops and scratches.
Performance: Powered by the A18 Bionic Chip
At the heart of the iPhone 16 Pro Max is Apple’s A18 Bionic chip, the most powerful processor ever in a smartphone. Built on a 3-nanometer process, this chip not only enhances speed and efficiency but also brings significant improvements in AI and machine learning capabilities. Whether you’re multitasking, gaming, or using AR apps, the A18 Bionic ensures that everything runs effortlessly.
The A18 chip also introduces new levels of energy efficiency, allowing the iPhone 16 Pro Max to deliver all-day battery life despite its powerful performance. With up to 30 hours of talk time and 25% faster wireless charging, you can rely on your phone to keep up with your busy lifestyle.
Camera System: Professional-Grade Photography
Apple’s commitment to pushing the boundaries of smartphone photography is evident in the iPhone 16 Pro Max’s advanced camera system. This model features a triple-lens setup, including a 48MP main sensor, an ultra-wide lens with enhanced low-light performance, and a periscope telephoto lens that offers up to 10x optical zoom.
The new camera sensors are larger, capturing more light and detail, which translates to stunning photos even in challenging conditions. The introduction of Smart HDR 5 enhances dynamic range, ensuring that both highlights and shadows are rendered beautifully. Night mode has also been improved, delivering clearer, more detailed images in near darkness.
For video enthusiasts, the iPhone 16 Pro Max offers ProRes video recording at 8K resolution, bringing professional-grade videography to the palm of your hand. The Cinematic mode has been upgraded to support 4K resolution at 60fps, with enhanced depth-of-field effects that give your videos a Hollywood-like quality.
Connectivity: Embracing the Future with 6G
The iPhone 16 Pro Max is not just about current technology; it’s also about future-proofing. This is Apple’s first smartphone to feature 6G connectivity, promising unprecedented download and upload speeds. While 5G is still rolling out in many parts of the world, Apple is already preparing for the next big leap in mobile internet technology, ensuring that your iPhone will stay relevant for years to come.
Additionally, the iPhone 16 Pro Max supports Wi-Fi 7, which offers faster and more stable connections, especially in congested areas. Whether you’re streaming high-definition content, engaging in online gaming, or participating in video calls, you’ll notice the difference in connectivity speed and reliability.
Battery Life: A Leap Forward in Longevity
One of the standout features of the iPhone 16 Pro Max is its remarkable battery life. Thanks to the efficiency of the A18 Bionic chip and the optimized iOS 18, this device offers longer battery life than any previous iPhone. You can expect up to 36 hours of continuous usage on a single charge, which is a game-changer for heavy users who rely on their phone throughout the day.
Moreover, Apple has introduced a new fast-charging technology that delivers up to 50% charge in just 15 minutes. Combined with the improved MagSafe system, which now supports faster wireless charging and a wider range of accessories, staying powered up has never been more convenient.
Software: iOS 18 and Beyond
The iPhone 16 Pro Max comes preloaded with iOS 18, Apple’s latest operating system. iOS 18 introduces a host of new features designed to enhance the user experience, including more intuitive navigation, expanded customization options, and enhanced privacy controls. With the new widgets and redesigned Control Center, accessing your favorite apps and settings is faster and easier.
Apple has also placed a significant emphasis on privacy with iOS 18. The new system offers enhanced tracking prevention, better control over app permissions, and on-device processing for Siri requests, ensuring that your personal data remains secure.
Sustainability: Apple’s Commitment to the Environment
Apple continues to lead the industry in sustainability efforts, and the iPhone 16 Pro Max is a testament to that commitment. The device is made from 100% recycled materials, including rare earth elements in the magnets and recycled aluminum in the frame. The packaging has also been redesigned to be completely plastic-free, underscoring Apple’s dedication to reducing its environmental impact.
In addition to using sustainable materials, Apple has focused on making the iPhone 16 Pro Max as energy-efficient as possible. The A18 Bionic chip, with its low power consumption, and the optimized iOS 18, work together to minimize the device’s carbon footprint.
Conclusion
The iPhone 16 Pro Max is more than just a smartphone; it’s a statement of innovation, performance, and sustainability. With its groundbreaking features, from the powerful A18 Bionic chip to the professional-grade camera system, this device sets a new standard for what a smartphone can be. Whether you’re looking for unparalleled performance, cutting-edge design, or a phone that will stay relevant for years to come, the iPhone 16 Pro Max is a worthy investment. As Apple continues to push the boundaries of technology, the iPhone 16 Pro Max stands as a shining example of what’s possible when innovation meets excellence.
Custom cases for these phones are already out . I ordered one from EngraveOn.ca They are giving screen protector with case. Use Freescreen code
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hotspot-electronics · 4 months
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Online Shopping Tips for Portable Speakers in New Zealand
When it comes to enhancing your music experience, portable speakers are a must-have gadget. Their convenience, portability, and impressive sound quality make them a popular choice among music enthusiasts. However, shopping for portable speakers online, especially in New Zealand, can be daunting due to the multitude of options available. Here at Hotspot Electronics, we aim to simplify your shopping experience with these essential tips. 1. Determine Your Needs Before diving into the online shopping world, it’s crucial to identify what you need from a portable speaker. Consider factors such as:
Usage: Are you looking for a speaker for indoor use, outdoor adventures, or both?
Portability: Do you need a lightweight, compact speaker for easy transport?
Durability: Will your speaker be exposed to water, dust, or rough handling?
Understanding your specific requirements will help narrow down your options and ensure you choose a speaker that fits your lifestyle. 2. Set a Budget Portable speakers come in a wide price range. Setting a budget beforehand can help you focus on options within your price range and avoid overspending. At Hotspot Electronics, we offer a variety of speakers to suit every budget, ensuring you get the best value for your money. 3. Research Brands and Models Familiarize yourself with popular brands and their models. Brands like JBL, Bose, Sony, and Ultimate Ears are known for their quality and reliability. Reading reviews and watching video comparisons can provide insights into the sound quality, battery life, and durability of different models. 4. Check Sound Quality Sound quality is a critical factor. Look for speakers with clear, balanced sound and good bass. Many online stores, including Hotspot Electronics, offer detailed descriptions and customer reviews that can help you assess the sound quality. If possible, visit a local store to listen to the speaker before making an online purchase. 5. Consider Battery Life For a portable speaker, battery life is vital. Depending on your usage, you might need a speaker that lasts all day on a single charge. Most product descriptions include battery life details, and reviews often discuss real-world performance.
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6. Look for Additional Features Modern portable speakers come with various additional features such as:
Bluetooth Connectivity: Ensure it has a stable and easy-to-connect Bluetooth option.
Waterproofing: Look for speakers with an IPX rating if you plan to use them near water.
Voice Assistant Integration: Some speakers offer integration with Siri, Google Assistant, or Alexa.
Charging Ports: Some models come with USB ports to charge other devices.
7. Compare Prices Prices can vary significantly between different online retailers. Use price comparison tools and check multiple websites to find the best deal. Hotspot Electronics often runs promotions and discounts, so keep an eye out for those to get the best price. 8. Read Return and Warranty Policies Before making a purchase, understand the return and warranty policies. This ensures that you can return the speaker if it doesn’t meet your expectations or if there are any defects. Hotspot Electronics provides clear and customer-friendly return and warranty policies to ensure your satisfaction. 9. Verify Seller Credibility Purchase from reputable sellers to avoid counterfeit products. Check customer reviews and ratings for the seller. Hotspot Electronics is a trusted name in New Zealand that is known for providing authentic and high-quality electronics. 10. Utilize Secure Payment Methods Ensure that the online store offers secure payment methods to protect your financial information. Look for secure payment icons and read their privacy policies. FAQs about Buying Portable Speakers Online at Hotspot Electronics Q1: What are the delivery options at Hotspot Electronics? A: At Hotspot Electronics, we offer standard and express delivery options across New Zealand. Delivery times vary based on your location, but we strive to deliver your order as quickly as possible. Q2: Can I return a portable speaker if I’m not satisfied? A: Yes, we have a hassle-free return policy. If you are not satisfied with your purchase, you can return the speaker within 30 days of delivery, provided it is in its original condition and packaging. Q3: Do portable speakers come with a warranty? A: All portable speakers sold at Hotspot Electronics come with a manufacturer's warranty, typically ranging from one to two years. The warranty covers any manufacturing defects or malfunctions. Q4: How can I contact customer support? A: Our customer support team is available via phone, email, and live chat. Visit our Contact Us page for more details. Q5: Are there any ongoing promotions for portable speakers? A: We regularly update our promotions and discounts. Check our Promotions page for the latest deals on portable speakers. Conclusion Shopping for portable speakers online in New Zealand doesn’t have to be overwhelming. By following these tips, you can find the perfect speaker that suits your needs and budget. At Hotspot Electronics, we are committed to providing you with high-quality products and exceptional customer service. Visit our online store today and explore our wide range of portable speakers. Happy shopping!
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phoneguard02 · 10 months
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Guardians of Clarity: Unveiling the Benefits of Blue Light Phone Screen Protectors
In the digital age, our constant interaction with screens has become an integral part of daily life. From work to entertainment, the ubiquitous glow of our smartphones accompanies us throughout the day. However, this prolonged exposure to screens, particularly the blue light emitted, raises concerns about its impact on our eyes and overall well-being. Enter the guardians of clarity: Blue Light Phone Screen Protector. This article explores the significance and benefits of these protectors in preserving both the visual clarity of our devices and our eye health.
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Understanding the Blue Light Conundrum:
Blue light, a high-energy visible (HEV) light, is emitted by digital screens and has a shorter wavelength compared to other colors. While it's naturally present in sunlight and plays a role in regulating our circadian rhythm, excessive exposure from screens, especially during evening hours, can disrupt sleep patterns and potentially contribute to digital eye strain.
The Role of Blue Light Phone Screen Protectors:
Blue Light Phone Screen Protectors act as a shield, mitigating the potential negative effects of prolonged screen time. These protectors are designed to filter and reduce the amount of blue light reaching our eyes, striking a balance between preserving visual clarity and safeguarding our ocular health.
Alleviating Digital Eye Strain:
Extended screen time often leads to digital eye strain, characterized by symptoms like eye fatigue, dryness, and headaches. Blue light protectors are instrumental in reducing these symptoms by minimizing the strain imposed on our eyes, offering a more comfortable and visually soothing experience.
Preserving Circadian Rhythms:
Exposure to blue light, especially in the evening, can interfere with our natural circadian rhythms and disrupt sleep patterns. Blue Light Phone Screen Protectors help mitigate this disruption by reducing the amount of blue light emitted by our devices, promoting better sleep hygiene and overall well-being.
Maintaining Visual Clarity:
One concern users often have about screen protectors is a potential compromise in visual clarity. However, modern blue light protectors are designed to maintain the vibrant colors and sharpness of displays while selectively filtering out the harmful blue light, providing an optimal viewing experience without sacrificing clarity.
Versatility Across Devices:
Blue Light Phone Screen Protectors are versatile and can be applied to a variety of devices, including smartphones, tablets, and laptops. This adaptability ensures that users can enjoy the protective benefits across their entire range of digital devices.
Easy Application and Durability:
Applying a blue light screen protector is a simple yet effective measure. Many protectors are designed for easy application and durability, providing a long-lasting solution to mitigate the potential adverse effects of blue light.
A Proactive Approach to Eye Health:
In an era where digital devices are integral to our lives, adopting a proactive approach to eye health is essential. Blue Light Phone Screen Protectors offer a practical solution to reduce the potential risks associated with prolonged screen exposure, allowing users to continue enjoying the benefits of technology while prioritizing their ocular well-being.
Our Service:-  
Custom Screen Protector Manufacturer
Custom Size Screen Protector
Luminous Screen Protector
Conclusion:
As we navigate the digital landscape, the guardians of clarity, Blue Light Phone Screen Protectors, stand as essential tools in preserving both the visual acuity of our devices and the health of our eyes. By filtering out harmful blue light, these protectors enable us to engage with our screens more comfortably while minimizing the risk of digital eye strain and sleep disturbances. In the quest for a balanced digital lifestyle, these protectors emerge as indispensable guardians, ensuring that our screens remain a source of clarity rather than a potential cause of discomfort.
Custom Screen Protector Manufacturer
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paradoxiii · 1 year
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I've wanted to get thumb grips for a while but I had a hard time finding any that I felt would look nice with my case (it's called "Once Upon A Time In Fodlan"; the screen protector part had a typo though so I copied the design & just replaced the text with a fancy little border thing & had someone on etsy print it for me, although sometimes when I stick the switch in the dock it hits the vinyl & made it scrunch up so that's why the one corner is missing) because most switch grips are either cute/pastel or the darker ones are usually for games I have little to no interest in lol, but I came across the master ball grips & I think they suit it nicely!
And I couldn't resist the deer grips, they're just so cute!!!
(I got both grip sets from GripsPro on etsy btw)
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Want to Protect your Smartphone's Screen, nothing is better than using Custom Screen Protectors. We are the Best Custom Screen Protector Manufacturer.
Custom Screen Protectors
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lockedndenied · 2 years
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Traditional Landscape (Minneapolis)
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soft-girl-musings · 7 months
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Stranger Danger
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Steven Grant x Fem!Reader
cross-posted to ao3
MK Spring Bingo entry #5
tags: reader is being stalked & responds in a way the author (a woman) has been taught to, emotional protector steven grant to the rescue, no use of y/n
wc: 1,138
fic summary: There's safety in numbers, do you want mine? (too soon?)
_____________________
“Oops, careful!”
Steven drops the last of his veggie wrap as a pair of kids rush past the bench he’d been hunched over. As he picks up the debris, he sees where one of them dropped their hat. He picks it up and half-jogs after them to return it.
“Gotta stay aware of our surroundings, yeah? Don’t want to lose our valuables.” The kid rolls their eyes but thanks him before running off to catch up with their friend.
“Oh my gosh, hi!”
Steven turns around to find you walking swiftly toward him, your smile too wide and tone too familiar.
He’s never seen you before.
“... hello,” he answers cautiously, taking one step back but failing to put much distance between the two of you. You practically cling to his side when you approach, takeaway cup and phone in hand.
“Sorry I’m late, but you are terrible at giving directions, mister.” Taking his arm, you begin to walk away from where you’d appeared.
This wouldn’t be the first time he’s forgotten conversations or plans. But as he racks his brain for something, anything tied to you in his memory, Steven notices the panic in your eyes and the slight waver in your voice.
Your hands shake a bit as you unlock your phone, passing your cup to him. He takes it, still bewildered but obedient. “I swear, the cafe never spells your name right. Let me make a note for next time.” You type swiftly, showing him the screen.
being followed, please pretend you're my boyfriend
Steven doesn’t know you.
But he nods, grasping your arm closer with his free hand and gives his most convincing grin. “Steven with a ‘V’, love.”
Relief instantly washes over your features and you relax a little. “Right. I’ll remember that… Steven.”
His smile grows before he remembers why you're holding onto him. “Do you want to sit down? Or go somewhere else, maybe I could call someone–”
“N-no, it’s fine. Let’s just sit. In plain sight,” you half-whisper. Steven nods, ushering you back to the bench in the middle of the busy square. When you sit, you don't let go of his arm.
Instead, you type into your phone as you speak. “Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?” Steven glaces at your notes app again.
do you see a man in a black jacket?
Steven scans the area, careful not to look too suspicious. Unlike the person he’s sure you’re referring to: a man in dark clothes, hands shoved into his pockets and rigid as he looks around with increasing urgency. His prominent frown grows when he sees Steven next to you.
“Yeah,” Steven says to both your questions. He looks away from the menacing figure, but sets your drink down and wraps his arm around you. He's glad to feel you settle into his side, still shaking but catching your breath.
“I take it you don’t know Mr. Black Jacket?”
“No, I do. Sort of. He’s a regular customer of mine,” you sigh. “One who doesn’t know how to take ‘no’ for an answer.”
“Ah.” Steven keeps the guy in his periphery, splitting his focus between him and you. “Stalker, then?”
You freeze up at the term. “Yeah… he’s been pretty relentless.” 
You meet his eyes, which are swiftly filling with concern. “Thanks again for… this. I usually find a mom or another woman to walk with me until he leaves, but I saw you with those kids and just… panicked, I guess.”
“S’not a problem, love.” Steven knocks your foot with his, drawing a small smile from you. “Glad to help you feel safe.”
You laugh a little. You let your gaze drift over to the man in black, an uneasy pit growing in your stomach when you briefly make eye contact.
“He usually goes away after a while. I've told the police, but they can't do anything unless he… you know.” Your brow furrows as your grip loosens. “I don't mean to take over your afternoon, but would you mind waiting with me?”
In that moment, you could have asked Steven for the moon and he'd find a way to lasso it down for you. 
He squeezes your hand. “‘Course I can. Lovely day with lovely company, quite the ideal afternoon in my books.” 
Steven dives right into talking about anything and everything that comes to mind– which, as you learn, is a lot. Normally he'd hit a wall after a few minutes, either because he'd realized he had talked himself in circles, or his less-than-captive audience was visibly zoned out. But you hang on his every word, grateful to be arm in arm with a stranger describing the supposed viscosity of ancient Egyptian embalming oil. It's a welcome distraction. 
So distracting, in fact, that after an hour you realize the crowd has thinned around you. With Mr. Black Jacket nowhere in sight.
“I think he's gone,” you sigh with relief. Steven stands when you do, handing your things back.
“Patience won out in the end,” he beams. You see a brief look of panic cross his features.
“He doesn't know where you live, does he? Do you need an escort?” Steven's already taken a ludicrously long lunch break, but the inevitable lecture from Donna would be worth it if it meant ensuring your safety.
You shake your head. “I've been careful.” Extending your hand, you smile. “It was nice to meet you, Steven with a ‘V’.”
“Likewise, love.” He shakes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Another look crosses his face before he continues.
“Do you want my mobile number?” His words come out too fast; if you hadn't spent the past hour listening to him, you might have missed what he said. “Just in case you need someone to wait with you again, or keep an eye out. Would that be alright?” He shakes his head, stepping back. “'Matter of fact, forget I said anything, don't want you to think you've traded one creep for another–”
“Sure.”
Your simple answer stops him in his tracks. “Oh, you don’t have to–”
“No, it’s fine. Really. When you offered, it felt nice to know someone could be in my corner on this side of town.”
You take out a scrap of paper and a pen from your bag. “How about this: you write it down, and I’ll add your contact if I ever need my knight in shining armor again.”
Steven concedes, pen and paper in hand as he scribbles his number down (then asks for a new paper in case the first was too illegible).
When you leave, he watches until you turn the corner. He goes the opposite direction, back to the museum. Part of him hopes you’ll never have to reach out, for your own sake. The rest of him hopes you do anyway.
_____________________
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A/N: oh steven, the man that you are. a couple more bingo prompts will be focused on this dude, which is excellent practice for some exciting projects down the line...
as always, ty for reading <3
event tags: @moonknight-events @spacecowboyhotch @juneknight
addtl tags: @mrs-lockley @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi @nerdieforpedro (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)
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hanggarae · 1 year
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happy birthday jeonghan !
ONE TIME FOR THE BIRTHDAY BITCH 🗣️🔥 jeonghan x gn!reader fluff 0.9k words
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“hannie just tell me what you want for your birthday” you whined on call for your boyfriend, getting louder when all he did was giggle instead of answering your question.
“baby you should be able to work out what i want on your own” jeonghan teased from the other line. “besides even if you can’t, i’d love anything you give me”
you rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see it. jeonghan’s birthday was in less than a week and you still had no clue what to get him.
you could get him a lego set or more calico critters- but he somehow managed to have every set available.
“yn..” jeonghan said quietly over the phone, “if it makes you feel any better you’ll have an extra two weeks to shop anyway, we won’t be back until the 18th”
you pouted at his words. how the hell would that make you feel better? now you didn’t know what to get your boyfriend and you remembered you can’t see him for almost three weeks.
“no! i’ll have your gift by your actual birthday”
you heard jeonghan stifle a yawn and laugh, he and the rest of the guys were probably tired. you both said your goodbyes to each other and he promised to call tomorrow morning.
while you rested your head on the pillow and looked at the ceiling, you thought about what to get him again. shopping for him really wasn’t easy.
you unlocked your phone again, fingers automatically opening the notes page you had for brainstorming potential gift ideas.
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“happy birthday!” the loud cheers from his members flooded jeonghan’s ears making him smile. it had just turned midnight and they were already at it.
truth be told he didn’t care about birthdays all that much- at least not it’s customs anyway. he didn’t really mind if people didn’t call him immediately at 12am to wish him a happy birthday, he didn’t care much about a cake or gifts- he just enjoyed that it gave him an excuse to feel loved by the people surrounding him without having to be shy about it.
so when you asked him what he wanted for his birthday, it’s not like he wasn’t answering you on purpose, it’s just that he genuinely didn’t know what he wanted from you, he just wanted you.
but he’d still have to wait three weeks for that. he was still in europe and you were halfway across the world from him, living in the shared apartment in seoul.
it would’ve been early morning for you, meaning you most likely weren’t up. so he didn’t bother checking his phone for a message from you.
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meanwhile, you were arguing with one of the airport staffs about your lost luggage. it had jeonghan’s gift that you bought but weren’t sure about giving him because it was a little lackluster.
“you know what just leave it. it’s fine” you sighed out exasperated, deciding to just head to the hotel jeonghan was staying at instead.
you called for a taxi but somehow none were available. you checked on the gps app and it luckily wasn’t too far of a walk from the airport.
jeonghan usually slept late, so if you hurried you’d make it before he went to bed. the rain would be a problem though. you surveyed it for a few seconds before heading back to one of the airport shops, hoping to find an umbrella.
“stupid cheap airport umbrella” you muttered as the umbrella barely kept shape against the winds, leaving you mostly soaked despite your best efforts to get it to stick to its original shape.
your phone ringing caught you by surprise and you fished it out of your pocket but the rain had made your hand to slippery causing you to drop it, luckily it didn’t break but it left a crack meaning you’d have to replace your screen protector.
you answered the call, it was mingyu.
“i’m like ten minutes away, make sure he doesn’t go to bed!” you shouted over the rain. mingyu didn’t talk for long, telling you okay before he went to bother jeonghan again.
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after a few more minutes, you were completely soaked, you cringed at how your wet clothes sticking to your figure and the sound your shoes would make every time you took a step.
you checked into the hotel, your room being on the same room as the guys’ so you could trade with whoever jeonghan was currently rooming with.
you checked mingyu’s text and made sure you were standing in front of the right room before knocking.
behind the door you could hear the guys all asking jeonghan to open the door because they all couldn’t be bothered, and you smiled at the tired sigh your boyfriend let out when he got closer to the door.
you opened your arms, ready to shout ‘happy birthday’ to your boyfriend only for him to interrupt you by saying “yn? what are you doing here? and why are you- get inside quick you’re gonna catch a cold!”
he beckoned everyone else out and into their own rooms then ran to his suitcase to get you one of his shirts. “quickly dry off then get changed and throw these to the laundry” jeonghan said hastily, already helping you get your long coat off.
you smiled at him, giggling when he looked at you confused. “happy birthday hannie” you leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek.
“thank you baby” he returned your kiss with one on your lips instead, “but seriously get under those blankets unless you want to spend my entire birthday sick”
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runariya · 12 days
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THE TRIBUTE • 1
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pairing: alien prince!Jungkook x human tribute!female reader genre: dark romance, gore, alien!AU, survival!AU, slow burn, angst, S2L rating: MDNI, 18+ warnings: being chosen as a tribute word count: 3.2k
a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕
masterlist • 02
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The fall of Earth wasn’t sudden. It wasn’t marked by fire or chaos that reigned for years, the kind of spectacle you might expect in an invasion. No, the aliens came quietly, without the usual drama of war. It began with whispers, transmissions intercepted by governments that never stood a chance. They arrived one day in ships larger than cities, hanging in the sky like indifferent gods, their presence screaming authority, and the sky cracked open completely and they finally descended, there wasn’t much left to fight for, really. The endless wars in the past had drained the Earth dry, and the alien empire had swept in to take whatever remained. The human race was too weak to resist, the shattered people in all cities too broken to protect themselves. So the world bowed, bent at the knee, in a way that had nothing to do with honour and everything to do with survival.
Their message was simple: Earth would continue, but under their rule. No destruction, no immediate casualties. Just quiet domination, the slow drip of submission. They called it mercy. They showed themselves as saviours—protectors, even. And somehow, despite the bitter taste it left in your mouth, humans believed them. Or at least, they didn’t fight one bit.
The royal family appeared everywhere, almost immediately, their images plastered across screens, on every corner, in every home. Prince Jungkook’s face in particular—a cold beauty—became a constant, a symbol of human survival. His name carried weight, and the people spoke it with reverence, though they were too afraid to admit the fear that simmered beneath. He was praised, all of them were, for sparing you. Sparing Earth from what, though? You were never told.
They broadcast it endlessly, the aliens, with their vibrant robes and strange customs, framed like some divine intervention, their vibrant colours contrasting the dullness that had consumed your live. While they basked in hues of gold and crimson, sapphire and emerald, humans were reduced to grey. Everything was grey now—the buildings, the streets, the sky, and the clothes you wore. It was as if the very life had been drained from Earth, leaving behind only muted shades of what the race once was. The grey uniforms became a symbol of submission, handed out without explanation, worn without protest. A world washed clean of individuality, of hope.
But the aliens—oh, they were different. Every glimpse of them was an assault of colour, a reminder of their power. Wherever they were shown, they brought with them the vibrancy humans were no longer allowed, flaunting their dominance with every shade, every rich fabric that swirled around them like a taunt and warning simultaneously.
Then there was the tribute system. No one spoke of it openly. No one dared. You were told from a young age that it was necessary, that it kept you all safe, but no one knew what it truly meant. Why, every year, a selection was made—human lives bartered like cattle. There was no resistance, no explanation, only the silent understanding that those taken were never seen again. And somehow, that became the new normal. The tributes vanished into the unknown space, and the earth continued in its quiet, grey monotony. 
We had been spared, they said. Prince Jungkook had spared us. But at what cost? No one dared ask.
You’re standing in a crowd now, one among many young humans, yet utterly alone, shoulders drawn tight beneath the weight of a thousand unspoken fears, but you keep your expression flat, indifferent. It’s easier that way. Easier not to feel anything at all. 
In the centre of the square, a screen hangs suspended between two decayed skyscrapers, flickering with static before the broadcast begins. You’re used to this routine, this cold display of power, yet the discomfort in your gut has never fully disappeared. And you’re sure, it never will. The emissary’s face appears, stark and inhuman, its features angular, skin pale like polished bone with robes in colours you only dare to dream of. Its voice, when it speaks, grates against your ears, the tone full of glee and dripping with fake warmth, as if this day is worth celebrating. 
It echoes across the crumbling square, sweeping through the huddled bodies of your fellow survivors. You’ve seen these broadcasts before, year after year, but this time feels different, this time *is* different. This time, it’s your name they call. 
“The tribute for Sector Seven has been chosen. Proceed to the transport at once.”
Your name lingers in the air like smoke, curling through your mind, clinging to the moment. The word ‘tribute’ isn’t one that carries any hope. It’s a word that’s always meant the end of something—of freedom, of choice, and most likely, of life. Still, there’s no time to let the weight of it fully sink in. You feel the crowd shift around you, parting like a tide as eyes slide toward you, pity laced into their avoidance. Some are grateful it’s not them. Others, too defeated to care.
It’s never you until it is.
For a second, the world slows down, your pulse thudding heavy in your ears full of loud static, but the moment passes. It always does. You move before your mind catches up, limbs stiff and mechanical, pushing through the parting crowd. No one stops you. No one offers a word of sympathy. This is the nature of things now: survival is solitary, and everyone knows better than to linger too long on the misfortune of others. Still, you catch a few murmurs from those who watch you pass, low and bitter, the sort of things you’d expect from a world this broken. They’re just glad it isn’t them.
Your heart is hammering, but you keep it all locked down beneath the surface. The last thing you need is to look weak. Not now when ever single step is being watched. Not when every single step brings you closer to something that feels disturbingly like an ending. 
The transport waits at the edge of the square, flanked by two of the empire’s soldiers. You’ve seen them before, standing rigid in their black armour, eyes hidden behind dark visors, their bodies almost too still to seem real. Like statues made of metal, empty of anything remotely human. As you approach, they don’t say a word, just gesture for you to board the ship. You pause for a moment at the threshold, the icy air from the interior licking at your skin, and for a heartbeat, you consider running. You won’t get far, but the urge is there, instincts flaring despite everything you know better. You’ve seen enough of these proceedings to know how it works: once chosen, there’s no refusal, no escape. You either go willingly or you’re dragged. Sometimes even killed, for what a human life is worth? Nothing.
Then you step forward. You have no choice.
The door hisses shut behind you, locking with a sound that reverberates through your bones. Inside, the transport is colder than you’d imagined, the scent of metal and machinery filling your lungs as you take your seat. You glance around, noticing the others who sit in similar silence, fellow tributes from the other six sectors—strangers, like you, plucked from whatever remained of their lives and thrown into this nightmare.
First, they don’t look at you. No one does. It’s easier that way, but you notice in an instant that you’re the smallest, the weakest, and it doesn’t help you keep the calm facade.
The transport jolts to life, the vibrations of the engines buzzing in the hollow space as it lifts off the ground. You try to settle yourself, to calm the rapid beat of your heart, but it’s impossible. Your fingers curl into the cold metal of the seat, knuckles white, as the city below shrinks away into the haze of clouds. There’s a finality to the way the world drops away, as if you’ve already crossed a line that you can never come back from, and in a way, it is.
The flight is long, though it’s impossible to tell how much time passes. You try not to think about what awaits you and close your eyes for a moment, blocking out your surroundings as best you can. Your mind drifts to the stories whispered among survivors—about what happens to tributes once they’re taken. None of the stories ever end well. Some say tributes are sold as slaves in the alien capital, while others suggest a more gruesome fate, that humans are used for experiments, their bodies discarded when no longer useful. But the truth is worse. It’s always worse.
But eventually, the descent begins slowly, the engines of the transport humming a low, ominous tone as the planet emerges from the veil of clouds below. The view from the narrow window is breathtaking, though it sickens you with the cruel reality of what Earth once was. Colours stretch across the landscape like a painter’s wildest dream—rolling fields of emerald green, rivers shimmering in shades of turquoise and cobalt, vast forests alive with every hue of autumn flame, though it is not autumn here. This planet pulses with life, chaotic and untouched, where nothing has been crushed beneath the fist of control. It is almost too much to bear. 
You glance again at the other six tributes, each taken from their corners of Earth. They still sit in absolute silence, their faces sunken, the knowledge of what is to come clinging to the air between you all like a shared sickness. From the strength in their postures, the way their muscles rest beneath their skin, you can see the warriors they’ve become, they are. They carry the defiance of continents long broken—one for each, their bloodlines ancient, their strength unremarkably deep. And then there’s you. The smallest, most fragile among them, bones light under skin that bruises too easily. Even among humans, you’re the weakest, and you can feel now their judging eyes on you, wondering how someone like you was chosen. 
The planet grows closer, the sky a vivid canvas of swirling pinks and golds, like a sunset that refuses to end. Yet, despite the beauty, despite the life that thrives below you, there’s a cold dread lodged deep in your being, one that rises the further you descend. You’ve heard the stories, the whispers of what awaits you on this planet. They tell you nothing directly, only that the arena lies somewhere in the depths of these vibrant lands, and within it, your survival is uncertain.
The transport shudders as it touches down, and you take in a silent breath, steadying yourself. The door slides open, and a gust of warm air rushes in, alive with the scent of wildflowers and soil, so different from the stagnant, metallic stench of the ship and earth. You step out, heart hammering, but your face remains impassive. There are soldiers waiting, but it’s the roar of the crowd behind them that hits you like a wall, an overwhelming volume of voices, cheers, and alien dialect twisted into strange pronounced syllables, all celebrating your arrival as though you were some kind of fallen star, a spectacle to be adored. 
The air pulses with their excitement, their bodies draped in vibrant silks that shimmer in the sunlight, arms outstretched, reaching for you, for any tribute who will acknowledge their praise, multiple cameras capturing every second of your arrival. Some of the others bask in it—grinning, high-fiving the aliens, taking selfies as though they are celebrities, lifted by the wild adoration, their smiles wide as they revel in this twisted reception. Others shrink back, shoulders hunched, their steps faltering as they cower beneath the push of all that attention, heads ducked low to avoid the eager hands reaching for them. 
But you—you keep your gaze forward, eyes locked on the path ahead, walking in a straight line behind the soldiers, schooling your face in indifference as best as you can. You try to give the madness no mind, let the noise wash over you like a storm you refuse to feel, to keep moving, refusing to be drawn into their chaos, not once glancing at the faces that strain to catch a glimpse of you. 
The city stretches before you, impossibly alive. Unlike the greys and browns of Earth, this place is a riot of colours—buildings that glow with warm light, spiralling upwards in organic, twisting shapes that seem to grow from the ground itself. There is no straight line here, no harsh edges or industrial steel. Everything is too perfect, too lush, and yet, beneath the beauty, you sense a hidden darkness, something far more sinister than the flowers and trees would ever reveal.
The palace comes into view not long after, a structure made of golden, glistening stone, it’s opulence disgusting you to no limit, and as you all are led inside, your eyes flit briefly to the faces of your fellow tributes. They hold themselves with the knowledge of their fate, some resigned, others still clinging to the fragments of hope that burn just beneath their skin. 
But you—what do you have but the defiance that hardens your jaw, that straightens your spine as the warmth of the palace washes over you? The silence here is rather oppressive, the sight of centuries of power pressing down on your fragile form. It feels like walking into the belly of the beast, swallowed whole by something vast and ancient, and all you can do is keep walking, keep breathing.
Prince Jungkook waits in the heart of it with seven nobly dressed men beside him. You’ve seen his image before every day multiple times, flashed across screens on Earth as if he were a god come down to walk among men. He’s a prince, they say, though it is not a title that means anything human. He does’t smile in those images, his face always carved from stone, eyes dark and unreadable, framed by robes of the richest, most vibrant colours—the kind that remind you of the flowers that no longer bloom on Earth. Here, in his palace, he is more imposing, more tall, more handsome than the images allowed. 
He watches you all as you are brought into his presence, though his eyes linger on you for longer than the others. His gaze is assessing, and as he takes in your small form, something flickers there—curiosity, perhaps. You’re nothing like the others, not even close. They are all built for survival, muscles honed and bodies strong, their hands made for fighting. But you... you are delicate, too easily breakable, and Jungkook sees it instantly. 
And yet, there is something in you that stirs his interest. You stand with a defiance that belies your fragile frame, your chin lifted high despite the obvious weakness of your body. He wonders how you’ve survived this long—whether it’s strength of mind or just sheer stubbornness that’s kept you alive. His curiosity piques as he steps down from his platform, moving with the grace of a predator who knows its prey has no real chance of escape.
Jungkook circles you all, the sound of his steps soft against the polished stone floor, his eyes never leaving your face. You can feel his gaze on you, piercing cold, as if you’re some strange creature he’s never encountered before. There’s no warmth in his presence, nothing that speaks of mercy or understanding. He’s power, pure and untouchable, and the thought of what he could do to you without even lifting a finger is enough to send your mind into survival mode. 
But you won’t give him that satisfaction. You won’t cower before him, no matter how small you feel beneath his gaze, his so much taller frame. Your heart races in your temples, blood rushing to your brain to keep alert, but your expression remains neutral, your hands clenched tightly at your sides, nails biting into your delicate skin of your palms. You’ve already decided that if this is where you die, you won’t die with your head bowed. Never.
Jungkook eventually stops in front of you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he takes you in with his head slightly tilted. There’s something almost amused in his dark eyes now, as if he finds your defiance intriguing, though he’d never admit it aloud. “Fragile,” he states, the word rolling off his tongue like an observation rather than an insult. “But not afraid.” 
His voice is low, almost a whisper, and it sends a tremor through you, though you refuse to let it show. He’s testing you, pushing to see where your breaking point is. You meet his gaze head-on, refusing to flinch under the intensity of it. 
“They say humans are resilient,” he continues, his tone almost mocking. “That you fight, even when there’s nothing left to fight for. Is that true?”
You don’t respond. You’re not sure you could if you wanted to. The intensity of his presence is suffocating, leaving you nowhere to escape, while his words challenge you, daring you to break, to bend under the pressure of who he is.
But you don’t.
“Fight,” his voice’s dropping to a whisper. “Or die. Those are your only options now.”
“Watch me,” you say quietly, your voice steady, though your heart feels like it might pound out of your chest. 
He tilts his head, a small smile curling at the corner of his lips, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I will,” he murmurs, and the threat in his words lingers in the whole grand room. 
Without another word, he steps back, dismissing you as easily as he might a piece of furniture. You all are nothing to him, and yet, there’s a flicker of something in his gaze as he turns away. Interest, perhaps. 
The guards step forward, the seven men too, grabbing your arms and dragging you from the room. You knew this wouldn’t be simple. You knew there’d be danger. But now, standing on the precipice of whatever fate awaits you, the reality of it all begins to truly sink in.
They don’t take you far—just to a small, cold room with nothing but a bed and a single window that looks out over the sprawling city. The guards leave you there, locking the door behind them with one of the seven men, dressed as vibrant as everyone on this planet, standing right beside you.
It’s quiet now, save for the faint steps of the guards outside, but the silence is anything but comforting. And as you turn to face the man beside you, you don’t really want to know what will happen next. All you need to know is that the fight is coming like it always does.
And the next words coming from the man confirm just that—you, a mere human among alien gods, have been chosen to survive it. Or die trying. 
„I’m Namjoon, your trainer for the Tribute Game.“
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masterlist • 02
a/n 2: hope you've enjoyed it👀 lmk what you think in any way you like!
Like what you read? Check out my other work here!
All Rights Reserved © @runariya 2024
taglist: @strawberryberrygirl
112 notes · View notes
8turning · 6 months
Note
Hi! Can i request hongjoong as a bf
thank you for this request!! hongjoong is so lovely ♡
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☆⠀⠀KIM.HONGJOONG — boyfriend headcannons !
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bf ! kim hongjoong x gn ! reader ★ fluff + very minimal angst. established relationship ★ headcannon
warnings: none i noticed. let me know if i missed anything!
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED ! ⸜(ˊ▽ˋ*)
💭 THINKING ABOUT : HONGJOONG.
he's a rather quiet lover, i think.
hongjoong's mind is running 24/7, and no matter how many times you tell him you understand, he still gets an ache in his chest thinking he's not putting you on a high enough pedestal.
you knew it wasn't his fault - you knew if given the opportunity, your doting boyfriend would spend all of his time at your side.
sometimes it felt like you cared more about his career than he did. telling him that he can't stay over another night because he has practice in the morning, or that he needs to help guide his members for upcoming performances - that your movie night can be pushed back a day.
he knows you're right, but that doesn't stop him from causing a light-hearted bickering match between you two about the topic. he thinks it's cute how much you care.
takes gift giving SO PERSONALLY!!! will make anything and everything for you that he can. need a new light-jacket for fall? he'll customize it to your exact style and taste. need a new screen protector? no worries, he'll buy you one (and make you a cool phone case as well).
hongjoong really likes the idea of matching, but he also equally adores if you have a different style from him. both of you exploring how each other likes to dress and express yourself would be something he really takes value in!
disagreements with hongjoong would be few and far between, but on the occasion they do happen, you would have discussed prior what each person needs to resolve it.
hongjoong isn't the type who needs to address things right away. he prefers to have a bit of time - having the opportunity to collect himself fully to have a productive conversation is what he values the most.
he's never outwardly angry or upset, but in the years you've been with him, you've been able to pick up on smaller habits of his.
longer hours spent at his laptop, his palm over his mouth as he works as if he's preventing himself from speaking, or staying in the studio for extended periods of time are just a handful of examples.
when the time finally comes, a mature conversation will be held. the level of communication you both have is the reason arguments are so rare. you know that he'll listen to your concerns and that gives you comfort to express your thoughts - he knows you'll listen to him as well.
after a nice talk, he'll give you a long hug and a kiss to your temple, a small reminder that he wants to always be with you.
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♡ 8TURNING 2024.
127 notes · View notes
rae-gar-targaryen · 2 years
Note
Why yes, your Honour, I would like to lick Jake Seresin’s abs. Each and every one of them. Trace them with my tongue. If that’s a crime throw me in jail.
Well, congratulations, lovely anon. You've inspired something that no one ever thought possible -- Rae writing for a BLONDE MAN, of all people. Pls enjoy this little blurb. Even though it's probably not the greatest thing I've ever written --
--
your name (on that coffee cup)
warnings: none, just bad flirting.
pairing: jake jortles "hangman" seresin x fem!civilian reader
word count: 2.3k (you've gotta be fucking kidding me) of sweet, if not stilted, flirtation and whatever the fuck this is...
Reblogs make the world go 'round! 🌿💜
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--
The coffee shop was more crowded than usual today. You supposed it might have something to do with the fact that today, the weather gods had decided that it would be the one, annual rainy day, forcing commuters to seek shelter indoors from the "deluge" (but what you considered to be, at most, a decent sprinkle). Southern Californians were decidedly not built for the rain.
You casually observed the casuals and regulars alike filtering in and out from your chosen table adjacent to the pickup counter. Your usual table, from where you'd set up shop, plinking away at your novel with your playlist and the welcome, muffled bustle of customers as backdrop busy-noise that filtered through your headphones for company. 
People-watching was uniquely inspirational whenever you were facing a bit of writer's block, so you had opted for leaving the relative coziness of your nearby apartment – content to perch on at this table and allow the quirks of strangers to serve as fodder for your novel.
Except that today, it was more overstuffed than your favorite blue-velvet chair in your apartment. The queue of bodies waiting for their cups of caffeine and their matcha lattes causing the already-warm interior of the shop to fog the windows. 
You'd just finished a particularly troublesome paragraph – How your two stubborn protagonists were ever going to set aside their differences as they made their way through the enchanted wood, you weren't one hundred percent clear on. But sometimes it was best to skip the mental obfuscation and jump straight into a part you were excited to write … their eventual love scene was beckoning you.
You worried your drink's straw between your teeth, eyes unfocused, pondering how to get Ser Marcus out of his shirt and beneath Lady Lucy, when he walked in. 
Him.
The tall drink of water with broad shoulders and dirty-blonde hair. With a million-watt smile he graced to whichever barista happened to be handing him his coffee that day.
He looked like a Ken-doll, if you were honest. But not in a bad (junkless) way. More of an All-American, conventionally attractive way, if he'd asked you. Not that he had. You had certainly seen him here before. But you weren't sure the same could be said of him. 
You watched idly as he breezed past you to place his order in a damp shirt that was veritably plastered to his torso, and running shoes that squeaked with rainwater, the noise making its way over the dull din of the shop. 
Perhaps he'd been out for a run when the rain had started.
He spoke to Monica the barista at the counter, out of earshot, though the easy way he leaned against the counter and smiled at her made it clear he didn't mind his own state of dress. The sort of easy handsome of an Eastwood.
You had turned back to the blinking cursor of your doc, thoughts buzzing with handsomely tanned skin and wet clothes, when the unmistakable shadow of a person loomed over you.
You glanced up, only to be simultaneously thankful for your screen protector and greeted with –
"Hi there," he breezed. 
It was Ken. In the perfect plastic flesh.
And, really, it was the fact that his torso was directly in your seated eyeline (and no other reason, you swear) that allowed you to notice (appreciate) that his already-rainwet and plastered shirt hugged his torso in such a way that allowed you to observe (appreciate) that you could see the outline of every. single. one. of his abdominal muscles, as though his shirt was made of flimsy tissue paper that might tear away beneath your touch.
No, this was fine.
"Uhhh." You were articulate, you swear. "Hi."
"Would it be alright if I sat with you while I wait?" He gestured over his shoulder with a pointed thumb vaguely in the direction of the pickup counter. "It's a little crowded in here today, and this is the only open seat."
Ah. An arrangement of convenience, and not that he wanted to sit with you.
You bit down your disappointment long enough to ease your lips into what you hoped resembled a smile, gesturing openly to the seat.
"By all means."
He shot a grateful–if not cheeky– wink your way as he pulled the seat out, angling himself to maintain eye contact with you, while still keeping one ear open for his name.
"Thank you, ma'am," he conceded politely, voice still warm and easy, as though no one had ever refused him a paltry request in his life. (And maybe they hadn't.) "I didn't exactly want to stand there in my wet clothes."
"No," you agreed. "Sitting in wet clothes is much more pleasant. Especially in those tight, Baby Gap-sized t-shirts. Everyone knows that."
"Everyone," he agreed, eyes twinkling and allowing you to appreciate just how green they were, glimmering, verdant and mossy, like the forest bedecked with fresh rainfall. How fortuitous, then, that he'd choose to sit with you on San Diego's one rainy day per year. "Teacher? Grading?" He nodded at your laptop, gem eyes flitting over the fading, curled stickers slapped onto the back.
You couldn't help yourself. You giggled.
"No," you shook your head. "Novelist."
"Ah," he conceded. "So whatcha writing?" 
And as you made to open your mouth to tell him that he shouldn't really ask a writer those types of question, he perked, and held up a finger as if to say "hold that thought," as he shot up to retrieve his beverage from the counter.
He must've heard his name. Ah well, it was nice while it lasted. You tried not to feel disappointed that your one encounter with hot coffee shop guy had come and gone in the blink of an eye. And tried not to beat yourself up that you hadn't caught the name when it had been called…
To your surprise, he turned back and plopped himself back into the seat opposite you, expectant eyes awaiting your answer as he blew into the small hole at the lid of his coffee cup.
"Ehm," you continued. "It's… a … novel," you finished, lamely. Flushed with the prospect of having to admit to this guy that you wrote high-fantasy erotica for a living, your self-preservation instincts kicking in before you admitted something you wouldn't necessarily have the chance to come back from if he decided to make fun of you for.
And he was ridiculously handsome. The sort of guy who looked like he belonged on the cover of the type of book you were writing, billowing unbuttoned shirt, and all... Maybe he'd pose if you asked?
If he was annoyed or put off by your evasiveness, Ken-doll didn't show it, that million-watt grin easing its way back onto his very pleasing face, prominent jaw and white teeth on full display as he played along.
"I might've guessed," he said. "I'm Jake, by the way." 
He held out his hand for you to shake. You responded in kind, allowing his hand to envelop yours with both size and warmth as you pumped your arm in a firm, decided handshake.
"I might've guessed," you parroted. 
He shot you a quizzical look; brows furrowed.
"It's on your cup," you nodded in the direction of the cup clutched in his other hand, the corner of your mouth titling into a smile. 
"A dead giveaway," he agreed, pleased that you had thought to make the observation. Maybe you were this way with everyone, he thought. All sweet smiles and starry, foxlike eyes, discerning but decidedly available. Selfishly, perhaps — he hoped that wasn't the case.
"Unless of course they had gotten the wrong name, and it's really, like, Jack, or James, or something," the fizzling pleasure of his hand on yours and the swelter of this coffee shop was really doing a number on your head, because now you were rambling. "Then if I had called you Jake based on the cup, I would've been both presumptuous and stupid. Like a 'Mark-with-a-C situation… Cark," you finished, unhelpfully.
"Now that's just unlikely, sweetheart," he disagreed. "You're clearly too sharp for that… Bridget." He squinted at your cup, greeting you with a name that was not your own.
"Oh, no…" you laughed, the pleased sound meeting his ears despite the relative staticky-din of the late-morning rush around him, "My name isn't Bridget," you explained, sheepish about the relative silliness of the game of being friends with one of the workers. "Uh, Monica likes to give me a new name every day I come in. Sort of to mock me for how often I come, I guess? We've known each other awhile. So, she's allowed."
If Jake thought it was childish or silly, he didn't let on, instead nodding and smiling at your explanation, still incomprehensibly interested in what you had to say…
"So that's why I see you in here so often," he conceded. "A novelist who writes in a coffee shop, where she knows everyone. Cute."
Out of any other mouth, it might have sounded condescending. But there was no hint of condescension in his honey-smooth voice. Only the facile twang of Southern charm and genuine earnestness. 
But all you heard was that he'd seen you before. He had seen you.
And you must've asked this out loud, because the next thing you knew, he was all smooth laughter and glimmering teeth,
"Yeah, I've seen you," he agreed. "You always look so concentrated, I never want to interrupt. My mama raised me better than that. But today I actually had the chance to say hello. So, uh, thank the rain, I guess…" he eased.
And you'd really hoped that the pleased warmth of flirtatious embarrassment wasn't inclined to show itself in any way, across your face or the exposed skin of your shoulders. Because you were certain those sparkling eyes of his were shrewd enough to tell. And how could a guy like this not be aware of his effect on women? So, you pressed on, closing your laptop lid, the better to focus on him with.
"And what do you do, Jake? If you're out for a run in the rain, you're clearly committed. Let me guess," you tapped your chin in mock-consternation, voice trailing in thought. "Model? Please say no because that would be a lot for me."
Jake barked a laugh at this. And perhaps you'd incidentally, dangerously boosted what was already a high ego. But he continued in good humor –
"No, sweetheart. Not a model. Naval aviator," and he'd actually shrugged at that, like it was no big deal. "I'm at the base down the way. So, yeah, I guess you can say I'm dedicated."
You groaned, teasingly, fucking your head into your arms, "Oh fuck, no. So just a civil servant who looks like a model. You can get the fuck outta here with that." You leaned across the table to teasingly shove one of his (ridiculously sculpted) shoulders, pleased at the feel of him beneath your fingertips.
"It's my honor to serve you, ma'am," he straightened in his seat, taking on his best "official" voice. (Oh, god, this was doing a number on you.) He continued,
"In fact, I think you should let me take you to dinner…?" He trailed off, perhaps in realization that he still didn't know your name.
You twisted in your seat to pluck a pen from the messenger bag hanging from the back of your chair, turning back to pluck his cup from his very hands in a move so cheeky you would swear you were having some kind of out-of-body experience. You were never this bold.
But the attentions of this, okay, let's be real… this veritable Adonis before you was likely doing something dangerous to your own ego, never mind his. Your head was somewhere in the clouds (a place he was clearly comfortable, being a "naval aviator, ma'am," and all)..
You tugged the pen cap off with your teeth, your attention fixed on the label.
Huh. Vanilla soy latte. 
You didn't comment on his drink of choice, choosing instead to strike through his name with the pen, and ink your own, your phone number printed clearly and neatly beneath it. Handing the cup back to him when you'd finished, recapping the pen as he twirled the cup in his hands to read what you'd put on the label.
He parroted your name back to you, the way his mouth worked out the letters an image you'd likely think about for a little too long, ya know, later... and the sound of it from his throat ringing in your ears.
"I'll text you," he assured, winking at you as he made to stand, rapping his knuckles on the corner of your table before mock-saluting you with two fingers to his forehead and an easy, charming grin on his lips. "I look forward to hearing about that novel over dinner, ma'am." 
With that, he walked out of the shop, taking with him the air in your lungs and your certainty that that had actually just happened, and leaving you with the faintly buzzing feeling of lofty flirtation and the blooming promise of a fucking date!
Eager to capitalize on the fizzy feelings, you opened your laptop lid and turned back to your unfinished section now, wan smile borne of fresh flirtation affixed to your lips, your thoughts swimming in a seafoam green ocean of emerald eyes, breezy flirtation, and, yeah, tight t-shirts...
"It was then that Lady Lucy swung her leg astride Ser Marcus, devilish fingers peeling his tunic from his toned stomach. With a smirk painted across her features, she dipped her head, allowing herself to trace her tongue along the ridges and planes of her lover's stomach, reveling in the feel of each prominent abdominal muscle beneath her tongue. Greeted with the delightful sound of her beloved's surprised gasps, manifestations of pleasure at her attentions…"
And no, you reasoned with yourself as you typed. You totally weren't thinking of green-eyed, handsome Jake as you wrote. These desires were your character's, not yours – you swear.
And no, your thoughts also were definitely not on his promised text message, either, that lit up your phone as you glanced at it. Greeted with the proposition of "Dinner Thursday?" No, you totally weren't thinking of him…
It's life that imitates art, after all... (Or was it the other way around?) And you hadn't had the chance to taste those abs for yourself. (But hope springs eternal...)
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The marriage candidates and what phones i think they’d have
Sebastian- a newer android model. Has a random hatred for iphones even though he never had one. I think he just likes dissing “basic” things. His screen is dirty.
Elliott- surprisingly a new iphone AND an apple watch! They don’t match his vintage/academia aesthetic, so it’s strange to see him so up to date with trendy stuff. Otterbox protective case but nothing fancy-looking.
Harvey- bro has the same tracphone he’s has since 2010. He’s very careful with it. He also has a home phone.
Shane- a heavily cracked and dirty-screened android from 2015. Bought a phone case to prevent further damage.
Sam- somehow even worse cracked android, but new. He just got it a few months ago and he already cracked it skateboarding. No case, no screen protector, just vibes.
Alex- an old iphone from 2013. He got it when it first came out as a bday gift and he’s been careful with it bc he knows his grandparents can’t afford a new one. Plain but protective case.
Maru- 2020 iphone her dad gifted to her for an achievement
Abigail- 2019 android with a black case that has a skull and rose design on it. It also has a screen protector thats slightly misplaced on the screen
Emily- iphone from 2017 with a deco charm case she customized herself <3 its very cute and brightly colored with lots of personality
Haley- new iphone with an unprotective stylish case that won’t actually prevent any breakage. She does have a screen protector though.
Leah- an old second-hand android from ebay bc she can’t afford anything new. She also has a home phone.
Penny- just a home phone. She doesn’t see a use in having a cellphone when she hardly has anyone to talk to :( poor stinkabutt
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kaneshir-o · 3 months
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❝ 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 ❞
❥ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: phone & social media headcanons
ᡣ𐭩 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: hermes, ares, adam
ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: first time writing snv!
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hermes
he owns an iphone, completely in love with its aesthetics and simple interface in comparison to android. he doesn’t care much for customization outside of his wallpapers and phone case, which is a simple black case.
hermes’ grammar and punctuation is always perfect; he very seldom sends a message with an error in it. however, he has an awful usage of emojis. he will be texting about ares harming himself accidentally and end the message with the crying laughing emoji — whether this is intentional or not is still up for debate.
in regards to social media, hermes is somehow always on. the minute you send a message, you’ll see the typing bubbles instantaneously. if you post something at a late hour, he is the first to comment. nobody knows how he manages to be such a quick responder, but at least it can be reliable in emergencies.
his most used app is, of course, the calendar app. he has reminders for anything and everything if it involves himself. he takes his organization very seriously!
nobody is allowed near his gallery, ever.
ares
upon hermes’ recommendation, ares also has an iphone, but it’s an older model and his screen protector has some cracks in it. none of his apps are grouped on his homescreen, quite a few apps aren’t updated to the latest versions, and he doesn’t understand how to setup the cloud.
however, ares does know how to use the fitness app. in fact, it’s the only app he knows how to use properly. he owns a fitbit and will always make sure it’s charged and synced with his fitness and health apps before starting his day.
whenever you receive a message from ares, it will always be in full caps. you’re not sure if he somehow turned on a setting to make his keyboard stay in caps lock, or if he does it on purpose; all that’s for sure is that he is very loud in his messages! but he is polite, still.
ares likes the concept of social media, but he’s not very good at curating his space and has ended up with am instagram discovery page full of history facts and side hustle scams. his profile, though, is full of photos of his morning jogs and time spent in the gym.
he has a lot of followers because of his muscles and mirror selfies, but he doesn’t know how to make his page private for friends and family.
adam
adam has an android, but only because he had to pick a phone and he didn’t really have a preference on what he used; he just wanted to be reachable to his family. he doesn’t have a case on his phone, but manages to keep it safe from being dropped.
his favorite app is facebook! the intimate aspect of it appealed to him, and he is always able to flaunt his familial status with the about page — he likes listing his wife and kids on his page. he makes sure that the first thing you see when going to his profile is that he’s married with kids.
he really needs help with taking photos, though. adam doesn’t realize that after you hit the button you have to stay still while the photo is processed, so his pictures always come out blurry with major lens flare. (don’t worry, eve takes much better pictures than him.)
his typing style is very similar to his personality — very chill! adam only types in lowercase, but he will use proper punctuation, too; he also likes the classic way of emoting, with colons and parentheses! he doesn’t use modern emojis because he doesn’t know how to get to that screen from his keyboard, but he makes do.
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pleucas · 3 months
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what apple pencil tips do u use ?
yo!
i assume this is a follow up to this ask where i briefly mentioned i use custom tips. but yea, i use this guy:
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amazon link here for a pack of six. below r some extra thoughts abt them tho...
i've been using one tip for the past 7 months and it hasn't worn down or broken or scratched my screen at all. i had been purchasing normal apple pencil tips beforehand and they wouldn't last even half that time (even after i took off my textured screen protector). and tbh apple pencil tips cost a weirdly massive amt so i'm pretty happy i found these guys :)
they do snap under a lot of pressure tho. found this out the hard way when i tried to smush my pencil into a case and the metal rod just. Broke? idk. i personally don't draw with a lot of pressure on my pen, so it hasn't snapped while drawing for me. if u know that u put a lot of weight on ur pen tho, maybe be careful lol
more on pressure. i've found that the pen pressure sensitivity is pretty good, but i also don't rely on that too much in my art so ehh take that w/ grain of salt... i def don't feel as safe pressing down hard to get thicker lines (due to aforementioned pen snappage :C), but i adjusted pressure settings in procreate and that made everything better 👍
hope that helps. again another dumptruck of rambling abt digital painting stuff, apologies... i swear i'm cooking that skk
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