#Gaming peripherals online

[easyshoppi-blog]

Understanding the Differences Between DDR3 and DDR4 RAM

When building or upgrading a computer, one of the critical components to consider is the system’s memory or RAM (Random Access Memory). Among the various types of RAM available, DDR3 and DDR4 are the most commonly discussed. While both serve the same fundamental purpose of temporarily storing data for quick access by the CPU, DDR3 and DDR4 differ significantly in terms of performance, power consumption, and overall capabilities. Understanding these differences can help you make an informed decision when selecting RAM for your needs.

Introduction to DDR3 and DDR4

DDR3 RAM (Double Data Rate 3) was introduced in 2007, succeeding DDR2. It brought improvements in speed and efficiency over its predecessor, making it a popular choice for many years. However, as computing demands grew, the need for faster and more efficient memory became apparent, leading to the development of DDR4 RAM (Double Data Rate 4), which was introduced in 2014.

Performance and Speed

One of the most noticeable differences between DDR3 and DDR4 RAM is their performance and speed. DDR4 offers significantly higher data transfer rates compared to DDR3.

DDR3: Typically operates at speeds ranging from 800 MHz to 2133 MHz. The data rate is doubled from the base clock speed, hence the term "Double Data Rate."

DDR4: Operates at speeds starting from 2133 MHz and can go up to 4266 MHz or higher. This increase in speed translates to faster data processing and improved overall system performance.

The increased speed of DDR4 RAM allows for better handling of high-performance tasks such as gaming, video editing, and other demanding applications. This makes DDR4 a preferable choice for modern computing environments where speed is crucial.

Latency

While DDR4 RAM offers higher speeds, it also typically has higher latency compared to DDR3. Latency refers to the delay before the transfer of data begins following an instruction for its transfer. DDR4 RAM usually has a higher CAS latency (Column Address Strobe latency) compared to DDR3. However, the higher data transfer rates of DDR4 generally compensate for the increased latency, resulting in overall better performance.

Power Consumption

Another significant difference between DDR3 and DDR4 is power consumption. DDR4 RAM operates at a lower voltage than DDR3, which contributes to energy efficiency and reduced heat generation.

DDR3: Operates at 1.5V (standard) and 1.35V (low voltage, DDR3L).

DDR4: Operates at 1.2V (standard) and can go down to 1.05V (low voltage, DDR4L).

This reduction in voltage not only makes DDR4 more energy-efficient but also enhances the longevity of the memory modules and the system as a whole. For devices that require prolonged battery life, such as laptops and mobile devices, DDR4's lower power consumption is a significant advantage.

Density and Capacity

DDR4 RAM modules are available in higher capacities than DDR3. This means that DDR4 can support more memory per module, which is beneficial for tasks that require a large amount of RAM, such as virtualization, large databases, and extensive multitasking.

DDR3: Typically available in capacities up to 8GB per module.

DDR4: Available in capacities up to 16GB or 32GB per module, with the potential for even higher capacities as technology advances.

This increased capacity is crucial for modern applications and operating systems, which are becoming increasingly memory-hungry.

Compatibility and Architecture

DDR3 and DDR4 are not interchangeable due to differences in their architecture. Each type of RAM has a different number of pins and operates at different voltages, necessitating different motherboard sockets.

DDR3: Has 240 pins.

DDR4: Has 288 pins.

This means that upgrading from DDR3 to DDR4 RAM typically requires a new motherboard that supports DDR4. This can be a significant consideration in the cost and feasibility of upgrading a system.

Conclusion

In summary, DDR4 RAM represents a substantial improvement over DDR3 in terms of speed, power efficiency, and capacity. While DDR3 may still be sufficient for less demanding applications or older systems, DDR4 is the preferred choice for modern computing due to its superior performance and efficiency. When considering an upgrade or building a new system, opting for DDR4 can provide a noticeable boost in performance and future-proof your investment.

[easyshoppii]

A Guide to Choosing the Best Gaming Brands Accessories Online

Gaming has become an integral part of modern entertainment, and the right gaming accessories can make all the difference in your gaming experience. Whether you're a PC gamer or prefer gaming consoles, choosing the best gaming accessories can elevate your gameplay. In this guide, we'll explore the best gaming brands and accessories available online, while also addressing some common questions about the world of gaming peripherals. 

What is the best PC gaming accessories brand? 

When it comes to the Best Gaming Brands Accessories, it's essential to consider factors like quality, performance, and durability. Several brands have earned a reputation for delivering top-notch accessories. Here are some of the leading contenders: 

Logitech: Logitech is known for its high-quality gaming peripherals, including gaming mice, keyboards, and headsets. Their products are trusted by gamers worldwide for their precision and durability. 

Razer: Razer is another well-known brand that specializes in gaming peripherals. Their products feature cutting-edge technology, customizable RGB lighting, and ergonomic designs for the ultimate gaming experience. 

SteelSeries: SteelSeries is a brand that focuses on creating accessories for esports and competitive gaming. Their range includes high-performance gaming mice, mechanical keyboards, and gaming headsets. 

Corsair: Corsair is renowned for its gaming accessories, especially mechanical keyboards and gaming headsets. They are known for their reliability and innovation. 

HyperX: HyperX, a division of Kingston Technology, is known for its high-quality gaming headsets, RAM, and solid-state drives. They are a favourite among esports professionals. 

ASUS ROG: ASUS Republic of Gamers (ROG) is a sub-brand of ASUS that offers a wide range of gaming peripherals, laptops, and monitors known for their performance and aesthetics.

Alienware: Alienware, a subsidiary of Dell, is famous for its gaming laptops, desktops, and accessories. Their products are known for their sleek designs and high performance. 

These are just a few of the best gaming brands known for their PC gaming accessories. The right choice depends on your personal preferences, gaming style, and budget. 

Why are gaming accessories so expensive? 

It's not uncommon for gamers to wonder why gaming accessories can be on the pricier side. The cost of gaming gear can vary significantly based on several factors. Here are some reasons why gaming accessories are often considered expensive: 

Quality and Performance: Premium gaming accessories are designed to deliver exceptional quality and performance. Manufacturers invest in high-quality materials and advanced technology to provide an advantage to gamers. This level of quality often comes at a higher cost. 

Specialized Features: Gaming accessories often come with specialized features such as programmable buttons, customizable RGB lighting, and ergonomic designs. These features enhance the gaming experience but can increase the price. 

Research and Development: Gaming brands invest heavily in research and development to create cutting-edge products. This research and innovation drive up production costs, which are reflected in the final price. 

Brand Reputation: Established gaming brands have built a reputation for quality and reliability. Consumers are often willing to pay a premium for products from trusted brands. 

Limited Editions: Some gaming accessories, especially collector's items or limited-edition releases, can be more expensive due to their rarity and exclusivity. 

What's the best gaming equipment? 

The term "gaming equipment" encompasses various accessories, each with its best brands and models. Here are some essential gaming equipment categories: 

Gaming Mouse: For precise control and accuracy, consider brands like Logitech, Razer, and SteelSeries. Features like adjustable DPI, programmable buttons, and comfortable grips are essential. 

Gaming Keyboard: Mechanical keyboards are popular among gamers for their tactile feedback. Brands like Corsair and Logitech offer excellent options. 

Gaming Headset: Crystal-clear audio is vital for immersive gameplay. Brands like SteelSeries and HyperX are known for their comfortable and high-quality gaming headsets. 

Gaming Monitor: A fast refresh rate and low response time are crucial for a smooth gaming experience. ASUS, Acer, and Alienware offer excellent gaming monitors. 

What companies sell gaming accessories? 

Several companies specialize in selling gaming accessories online. Some of the prominent ones include:

Amazon: Amazon offers various gaming accessories from various brands, making it a one-stop shop for gamers. 

Newegg: Newegg is a popular destination for PC gamers, offering a wide range of hardware and accessories. 

Best Buy: Best Buy provides both online and in-store shopping for gaming accessories, including consoles, headsets, and more. 

EasyShoppi: For a wide range of gaming accessories, be sure to check out EasyShoppi's gaming accessories section. They offer a variety of gaming peripherals to suit different preferences and budgets.

[hitkb]

The Black Myth Goku's same gold banded rod makes an extremely nice crafted ornament to display on your desk!

[odd-cinderella]

Still gotta work on some cable management, but, it's FINALLY looking like a decent little setup! 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

[shoppingsagaonline]

Top 6 Gaming Headsets under $30.

These are the best headsets if you want to continue gaming with precision of sound. These are affordable and are durable.

[satoruhour]

SL*T HIM OUT !

a/n: sometimes it doesn’t hurt to be more of a freak than ur man is...! im sorry to the babies who voted 4 fluffy sugu. also not tagging bc this intro is alr so damn long 😭

warnings: soooo filthy, lots of dirty talk, freaky!reader, modern au!gojo, online voyeurism / exhibitonism. implied cockwarming, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, light spanking (like once), gojo’s friends listen in, reader calls geto, m! masturbation (gojo), cult leader!geto, public sex (in front of his cult), clit stimulation, exhibitionism, power play (?), pussy slaps, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink (geto), exhibtiionism as well, oral (m receiving), handjob, semi-public sex (in a car), cum shot, implied creampie / breeding kink, cum eating, brief daddy kink @ the end (nanami), lie back oral (m receiving, basically an upside down bj lol), deep-throating, face-fucking, fingering, clit stimulation, spitting (in TOJI’s mouth!), cum eating (toji), n*sfw under the cut

✶ GOJO

gojo thought his best friend and him were truly nasty people, exchanging videos of fucking their sneaky links, lewd photos of his cock in some chick’s mouth and sharing hookups between themselves several times, but when gojo had gotten together with you, it’s like the only time he’s got one-upped by someone repeatedly.

you, with your bright, blinding smiles and kind disposition being such a filthy slut behind closed doors. gojo can hardly hold in his moans as he tries to focus on the game in front of him, but you decided that cockwarming was too much of a waiting game that you’re disobeying your boyfriend and moving your hips.

“f— fuck, angel, didn’t you p-promise?” he’s already felt your cunt clench around him too many times for him to be saying stupid shit like that and it’s clear he’s not even following his own rules when his hips jerk up from his gaming chair and into your dripping cunt. it’s leaking so much he’s sure he needs to change the covers of it, soaking his cock and balls that there’s a wet patch of your juices under him. 

“you’re moving too, though,” you click your tongue with a grin, not caring about his friends on the game with him as you bounce fully, now. “j-jus’ can’t resist my boyfriend’s fat cock, now, can i?” 

gojo swears lowly at the praise and by now his control over his character in the game is lost to pleasure, too intoxicated with how your cunt squelches around his length and his hands leave his controller to cup your ass. his hips are meeting yours in shorter, desperate thrusts.

“w— wanna call, suguru, baby?” you’re whining into his neck and you can feel the brief nod; he was never opposed to your whorish ways, hearing the receiver pick up almost immediately and geto’s face comes on his display: shocked, half hard already and bothered.

“stretchin’ this pussy out s’much— mmh—” you turn back momentarily to give geto on the video call a drunk smile and a wave, interrupted by gojo’s harsh smack on your ass and a loud moan falls from your lips when he snaps his hips into yours, stark blue eyes trained on your cockdrunk face.

“who’s making you feel this good, slut?”

a hand goes up to squeeze your cheeks together and in gojo’s peripheral vision he can already see geto stroking his cock. his friends are probably disgusting too, muting their mics and jerking off, but a dirty girl like you loves it, don’t you?

“y— you are, ’toru— shit!” sat on gojo’s cock for too long makes you like this: crazed, filthy, and mixed in with geto’s impatient hand on his cock and gojo’s words in your ear? it’s not difficult to cum with “yes, yes, yes”’s leaving your lips, back arching into gojo’s hand as he fucks you like a fleshlight, sloppy thrusts hitting you deeper and deeper in you, you swear you see heaven with tears lining the corner of your eyes when gojo shoots his long awaited cum right into your puffy pussy and gojo’s head dig hards unto his headrest.

but gojo knows you aren’t done, moaning softly into his ears for you to turn him over and ways showing suguru what he can’t have.

“look at how much i’ve bred my pretty girl, suguru,” geto’s eyes stay locked as his best friend tugs his cock out of you, cum spurting out in loads and staining your pussy white that it’s got him reaching his climax with a choked groan, hands squeezing ribbon after ribbon of cum out of his cock and you watch, entranced. gojo swears he feels you clench and he grins. “maybe one day you’ll see your cum seeping out of her, heh.” 

✶ GETO

geto never liked humans — he’s made that much clear when he turned his back on jujutsu high and committed to his cause — but sometimes when pussy’s just too good, he can’t help but fuck it once in a while, or in this case, every day since you loved it.

“this— f-fuck—” geto’s slamming into you from behind, both hands wrapped around your biceps so hard it might as well make marks, but you hardly care when it holds you up so well as you take his throbbing cock repeatedly. your body’s limp, letting him use you in front of his cult.

“this— is how you breed— a cute little human—” suguru struggles to speak through his thrusts, hardly focused on his followers watching with gaping mouths and possibly tents in their pants. gross men, they were, but he doesn’t give one fuck knowing he’s the only one to have your pussy every single time. geto stays hypnotised by your dripping cunt sucking him in, clenching just as you lock eyes with one of his followers. “you could be getting treatment like this but—”

“g-geto-sama— harder, harder!” you whine when he yanks you up and hooks a hand under your knee. it drives him deeper into you easily, large cock reaching all the spots in you that you can feel your knee buckling. don’t worry, geto’s got you perfectly, but he smiles when you’re spreading your legs more.

“but you’re too busy being shitty fucking monkeys.” geto swears into your neck, robes removed hastily so he could have all of you and he switches positions again and carries you with both legs over his arms, shutting your pleas up for his cock by pulling your back against his chest and shoving him back into you from behind with a bit of your help.

you’re spread out like a buffet so nicely now, feet dangling lifelessly like a doll as his hips piston up into you from below and your praise falls from your mind for a moment. “suguru— s’deep, gimme more, please—!”

he doesn’t mind when you’re more than his worshipper in his quarters at night, muttering out a soft yeah? just for you to hear, fingers slapping your clit roughly and you’re jerking roughly, tongue lolling out and eyes rolled to the back of your head. it’s so hot, and suguru’s so strong, holding you up like this.

“this is how real men fuck,” geto declares as dramatically as always, continuing to land smacks on your pussy before you’re tensing up and your head falls on his shoulder, squealing. 

“cumming— sugu! g’nna cum— haah…” geto simply laughs when your body fully surrenders to him and you’re squirting all over the floor, juices littering the tatami mats and onto some of the faces of the followers, convulsing so much around his cock that he’s cumming soon after you, pumping you full just like the many times he’s done to you privately.

you feel him twitch in you and you don’t mind the drool leaving everyone’s mouths at that point, planting a sloppy kiss on his lips as you hear his praise against your lips — “that’s a good whore, taking all my cum like an obedient cum dump.” 

✶ NANAMI

nanami wasn’t aware of your high sex drive when you first dated — so when you’re dragging him past the higher-ups and the many sorcerers into some random limousine and slamming him against the door, he’s pleasantly surprised, although not too pleased at gojo shouting into the open air how yeaaahh! nanami’s getting some toniiighht!

sure, he might’ve been a little held back — he was never one for anything public, but feeling your hand tugging on his to rest between your legs and how your might not have worn underwear tonight, he was thinking he might need to do something about it.

but nanami is usually too afraid, so he willingly lets you pull him instead into one of the random limos outside the fancy gala venue. at this point there’s too many sorcerers at the event that he isn’t even sure who the driver escorted here, but it turns out to be one of tokyo’s, unknown of your current need to have nanami down your throat and up your pussy.

nanami’s cheeks burn when the driver recognises his voice.

“ah! nanami-san, back to jujutsu high?”

all the while, you’re yanking at his pants and pulling st his underwear, him torn between letting you do what you want and having some decorum in front of a junior. but you’re whispering against his half-hard cock, pressing light kisses on his leaking tip that maybe it isn’t so bad succumbing to you sometimes.

“needed your cock since i saw you in this suit, kento— mmfgh—” you’re quick to descend on his dick, not caring if he was still hardening. that was your favourite part, feeling him stretch to his full size while still in your mouth, words a mere whisper that you’re grinning at the possibility of getting caught.

“shit—” nanami groans softly when you bob your head, thankful the partition was slid close and all cars for sorcerers are usually muffled pretty well for confidentiality (gojo requested it, god knows why) — because from here he can hear you slobber over him unforgivingly and noisily, not caring about consequences one bit.

“angel, you gotta be quieter… fuckkk…” you lick a long stripe up his cock, his ears picking up on the way you play with yourself under your dress and nanami scoffs at how much audacity you had, pulling you off immediately and pushing you into the seats.

though, nanami’s streak of confidence is lost once he feels his tip prod at your hole. he can feel you squeeze around him so tightly that you take over, collecting your slick easily by drawing his cockhead along your folds. it’s so disgusting and hot, hearing the slick squelch around before you’re pushing him into you and you’re letting out a drawn out moan.

“kentooo…”

“nanami-san? everything okay?”

you giggle softly, shouting across to the driver, “everything’s well, tsugimo-san!”

“ahh— (y/n)-san, i was unaware you were here too—” hips push back on his cock and nanami bites his lip so hard he tastes copper. you’re so wet you get right in, buried right up to the hilt, hissing softly at the way your ass ripples against him, “boring party huh?”

you laugh, “soooo boring,” it’s disguised as a whine, moving your lower body back on nanami and it’s a wonder he’s able to stay so still in the vehicle — while he’s gotta praise tsugimo for driving so steadily, he thinks it’s because of his fear of getting caught that makes him so still and rigid.

the thrill is unlike any other, though, so he takes the chance, hooking both hands under your neck and pulling.

“sorry to hear that, (y/n)-san! well, rest up back there.” oh, poor tsugimo had no idea you were getting your guts arranged by your lover, head tipped back all the way while your back arches and your moans are shamelessly loud. nanami bullies his cock into you, too in love with your tight, pretty cunt as he tries to keep his grunts to a low.

“c’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” nanami rasps despite the loud pap! pap! pap! of his balls that’s he’s convinced he’s going to get a warning letter tomorrow but at least he’ll have this memory to jerk off to next time: your sweet cunt gushing around him, arousal giving away the racy things you were doing. he can feel his approaching high, the twitching of his cock obvious enough that you notice too until you’re forcing yourself off of him. nanami’s a little disappointed in not being able to paint your insides white but—

you’re skilfull (and excited) by the way you’re manoeuvring yourself onto the carpeted floor of the limo, pushing nanami that he falls back onto the leather seats and both hands wrap around his throbbing cock.

“give me all your cum, kento,” you mumble, the two hands pumping him hastily straight up offensive as you fill the car with the slickest noises. tongue outstretched and your warm, soft hands moving at a steady pace has nanami cumming with a muffled groan and jolting hips, angry tip spurting so much semen into your mouth. your arms never stop, milking him dry as you suckle on his cockhead, slurping up the cum that threatens to spill out.

“mmhh— s’much…” it has your lover panting, watching you smother his seed along the bottom half of your face messily and he thinks maybe, maybe, this could be his second favourite place to cum on.

“...cum. need some more, daddy.”

✶ TOJI

toji chuckles when you beg with another flutter of your eyelashes, simply leaving a soft peck on your lips and he drags you gently — a entire 180 from how how he’s got you on your back now, getting your pulse up from how his cock is past your face and reaches your throat.

“ya sure you want this, baby?”

you roll your eyes, tugging on him and making him let out a soft groan, letting you have your way as you stroke him needily. you’ve been wanting to have him down your throat while on your back for the longest time, wanting to feel that uncomfortable stretch of your jaw and getting his cockhead as deep as you could into your mouth—

you’re already doing your own thing, swirling your tongue around toji’s tip and playing with his balls, before you feel the other pump himself, spitting on his palm to get it wet just a little before easing himself into your throat. the stretch is delicious with how big toji is, seeing himself bulge in your throat by how deep you were taking him.

“oh— s-shit, that’s it. mouth so fuckin’ warm—” you moan around his cock, mouth stuffed full and hands kneading at his thighs that he takes it as the green light to go. it’s slow, at first; he’s afraid to hurt you and yet you’re humming around him, gargling on his dick so dirtily that he can’t help but thrust.

it’s a hundred times better than you going down on him normally, letting him fuck your mouth upside down. toji smiles when you guide his hand to your clit with no problem and as he leans forward he reaches the hilt in you. you whimper around him, the smile spreading into a sick grin as he rubs lazy circles upon your clit.

“m’slutty girl needs it that badly, hm?” toji accentuates each word with slaps against your pussy, already so wet from being in such a provocative position and having your boyfriend’s shaft in your mouth — toji laughs when he inserts his fingers and your hips buck up, while his never falters; he’s always been the best at masking how he felt.

toji moans at the way you gurgle on his cock, slipping out momentarily to let you breathe. it’s nice seeing you so slutted out, drool dripping down your face paired with a grin. you spit on him from below, stroking his cock for a bit before he’s back in your mouth. you clamp down on his fingers when he starts to set an relentless pace, slamming into your mouth while needy moans send vibrations up his body.

“takin’ me like a good lil girl, aren’t ya?” toji swears lowly at the way his fingers disappear into you, both holes of yours filled to the brim. “g’nna cum, doll.”

your forearms close around his thighs, head falling off the edge of the bed as you hollow your cheeks even more and breathe through your nose. his hips are turning sloppy and loose now, losing its pace altogether as he ruts into your warmth.

“take my load down your throat, baby— f-fuck—” it’s abrupt when toji cums, thighs pulled taut under your hands and his hips still. his fingers also lose control, hand cupping your cunt instead as ribbons of his cum flood your throat. you’re swallowing part of it, popping his cock out of your mouth and turning over onto your knees.

the sheer size of toji always excites you, towering over you but you ignore the throb of your pussy to shove your lips onto his, making him taste himself — it’s spit everywhere, leaking from the corners of your mouths and when you pull away there’s a string of saliva connecting the both of you.

you simply thumb his bottom lip, the familiar scar running against the pad of your thumb and toji only slyly smiles, opening his mouth willingly. he’d never let anyone do this, but you gather a glob of saliva and spit it into his mouth, a mixture of cum and drool and toji just fucking loves how lewd you are.

“thanks, mama,” toji lands a playful slap on your ass and you giggle, “doin’ so well, always.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

The noise of a lawnmower welcomes you out into the vibrant summer day. Your mother is already on the porch, sat on the patio bench. You can tell she’s primped herself up just a little bit. You put the jug of lemonade on the wicker table and stand by the end of the long eat. 

“A kind man,” your mother muses beneath the racket of the mower, “about time we got someone decent ‘round here. You know,” she furrows her brow viciously, “those bitches from the cul-de-sac never liked your nana. Hate us even more. Stepford hags.” 

You nod and peek over at Steve as he pushes the mower in a straight line. The grass falls to the blade and leaves thick clippings in rows. You twiddle your fingers as you notice the shine of sweat on the man’s forehead and forearms. His act of kindness feels more like pity. 

“Don’t be stupid, girl, go grab some cups,” your mother snipes and draws your attention back to the porch. “That man’s going to think I raised a moron.” 

You retreat back into the house. For as pleasant as she was to your new neighbour, it has done little for her mood. Or maybe it’s just you. 

You grab two of the rippled plastic cups from the cupboard and head back down the hall. You stop as you reflection passes you in the mirror. You turn to face it. You frown. You’re nothing special to look at but you don’t do much to help that. You wonder if you put on some mascara or wore something nicer if you might look anything close to pretty. 

You shrug off the fleeting insecurity. It’s not important. Your mother’s sick and your little uncertainties don’t mean anything. You push through the screen door and clack the cups down. As you do, the mower quiets and you peer over. The grass is trimmed neatly as Steve stands close to the steps, wiping his forehead as his cheeks burn rosy form the heat. 

“Whew, think I’ll try some of that lemonade,” he climbs the steps, “hot one today.” 

As he climbs the last step and he drags his hands down his tee shirt. His grey blonde hair droops forward and he tries to shake it out of his face. He tugs at the hem of his shirt and lifts it over his head, revealing a sweat-dampened undershirt. 

“Don’t mind me,” he chuckles as he uses the outer layer to mop his face and neck, “think I overdressed.” 

“Get him some lemonade,” your mother hisses and points to the jug. “Steve, was it? What brings you to Heron Meadows?” 

You unstack one cup from the other and fill both. You set the pitcher back down and step back on your heel, folding your hands together as you fade into the background. You’re peripheral to your mother. You only exist when she needs you. 

“Well, settling down, I think,” he smiles and reaches for a cup. He raises it and stops it just in front of his chest. He carefully gestures at you with it, “thanks.” 

Your eyes round and you glance away, “welcome.” 

“Settling down?” Your mother echoes coyly. 

“I know, I’m a bit late to the game. Had to get out of the city. Maybe I outgrew it,” he sighs, “and you two? Where’s your husband hanging out?” 

You mother laughs and crosses one leg over the other, not easily as she struggles to still the shake in her foot, “long gone. He never saw this place.” 

“Ah, hope I didn’t hit a sore spot,” Steve’s cheek dimples before he sips from the glass. 

“Mm, don’t feel much for the deadbeat,” your mother tisks, “what about you? Settling down? Is your wife coming with the couch?” 

“Ah, yeah,” he reaches over to plant his hand against the pillar that connects to the rail. He leans on it and gulps again. He swallows before he continues, his eyes meeting yours for the split second you dare to look up, “missed that step but the house will keep me busy until I figure that out.” 

“Oh don’t you worry, that little club will keep you busy,” your mother scoffs, “make sure ya keep your picket fence nice and whitewashed.” 

Steve gives a curious furrow of his brow. You mother sniffs as her little quip hangs in the air. 

“HOA,” you put in quietly. 

“Mm, I bought out of that,” he says. “Outdated if you ask me. I don’t need them telling me what colour to paint my door.” 

“Bought out?” Your mother grumbles. 

“I didn’t relish the extra lawyer fees but worth it,” Steve explains before he empties the cup and puts it back down, “thanks, that was great. Uh, guess I should get started on the back.” 

You stand dumbly as you mother agrees with a grumble. An awkward silence thickens around you and she snaps in your direction with her fingers, “take him out back, honey.” 

“Oh, uh, sure,” you clamour forward as if awoken from a slumber. “Just...” you near Steve and step around him to scurry down the stairs. “this way.” 

He leaves his tee shirt draped over the railing and turns to follow. He looms like a shadow behind you and as you stop to reach over the top of the gate and unlock it, you scratch around blindly. He steps closer and hooks his arm over yours. The smell of his sweat fills your nose. 

“Got it,” he says as he easily unlatches the clasp and the gate slants inward. 

You push through, quickly making distance from him as he trails you into the backyard. It’s even worse than the front. You grab the broken mower from where you left it and drag it towards the garage. 

“Great, I’ll go grab the mower,” he declares and leaves you to shove your way awkwardly into the side door of the garage. You push the rusted metal inside and the door snaps shut at your back as you emerge back into the sunlight. 

Steve pushes through his nice electric mower and you shy away. It’s got to be close to new and no doubt expensive. You trod through the tall grass and as you pass him, his arm brushes yours. 

“I could do the eaves too,” he stops beside you. “Get some of these weeds cut too.” 

“No thanks,” 

“I don’t mind,” he insists. 

“I can manage.” 

“You can. Probably a lot. Your mom...” he suggests, letting his words hang. “She sick?” 

You glance at his chest, the white fabric taught to his muscles above his thick stomach. You nod. 

“You take care of her?” He prompts. 

“Do my best,” you mutter and traipse on, “thanks.” 

“Right, uh,” he calls after you, “well, if you change your mind or think of anything, you can always ask.” 

You keep on. He feels bad for you. Just like everyone else. You’ve heard Marge and Lucy on their daily power walk; poor thing, going nowhere, sad... 

You go back out front, leaving the gate open. You go to grab the broom from the porch as your mother remains as she was. Her hand trembles on her thigh. 

“You know, should clean up around here,” she says, “invite him for dinner as thank you. Maybe tomorrow.” 

You take the broom and stop at the bottom of the steps, “maybe tomorrow,” you agree. 

“He’s a nice man. Could use one of those,” she smirks, “never had one of those. Handsome to boot.” 

It’s strange. You haven’t seen your mother smile since your grandma was around and even then, it wasn’t like this. The way she’s talking is almost ravenous. Like she’s slathering over a pork chop still on the grill. 

“Just gonna sweep up the trimmings,” you explain as you drag the broom down the walk. 

“Ugh, do whatever, you simple girl,” she chides. “When you’re done, you start on that kitchen. Those damn dishes have been sitting there all day.” 

“Yes mother,” you say to the broomstick as you begin to sweep. 

The sun beams relentlessly down, pouring onto you like fire. When you’re done, you return the broom to its place against the siding of the house and let yourself inside. Your mother hums as she watches the birds. You should be happy to see her outside, to see her in a better mood, but you’re too uneasy with the presence of that man. You know his name but it doesn’t make him any less a stranger. 

You fill the sink and add soap. You plunge a stack of plates into the water and stare out the small window above. You can see the side of the next house. It isn’t much too look at but sometimes a squirrel will critter along the wooden fence top. 

As you zone out, hands working mindlessly on scrubbing and dousing, a shift in the foggy colours of your vision brings your eyes into focus. You blink as Steve waves from outside. He rolls the mower up to the gate and smiles at you. You wince, jolted by the reminder of him. You offer a flutter of your soapy fingers. 

He stops and stares at you through the window. You blink, uncertain what to do. He’s just looking at you. He winks and you wince at the gesture. He slaps his hand back down on the mower and pushes it through to the front yard. That was odd. 

Or maybe you’re just awkward. 

[yanderes-galore]

Romantic scenario with Ghost (Simon Riley) from the Modern Warfare reboot? Can you also amp up the horror in this scenario 👀?

I'm assuming you mean from the newest Modern Warfare 2 so I'll do that! I have no played the game but I have seen the story. I'll try my best to amp up the horror but I'll have to see how well I executed it, it depends on what you wanted. I had to scrap my first draft as it wasn't going anywhere so I decided taking it in this direction would be better for horror. You may need to be more specific next time ^^; Sorry if it came out shorter than intended....

Phantasm

Yandere! Simon "Ghost" Riley Scenario

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Murder, Gore/Blood described, Breaking and entering, Implied forced relationship, Stealing, Dubious touches, Being watched while you sleep, Isolation, Toxic behavior.

Like a phantom, Ghost hovered around your life. He haunted your presence and you barely had a clue. He watched you with the skill of a soldier who's hidden in the shadows all his life.

Ghost didn't care if inserting himself into your life was wrong or not. In fact he barely even was part of it. Ghost always kept his distance, he always lurked in the shadows.

In a way it was like you were being haunted. If you caught sight of him in your peripherals he was usually gone the next time you looked around. He lurked and watched... but never revealed himself to you.

Ghost liked to watch you. He's quite the silent person due to having his fair share of stealth missions. Hiding in the dark and being quiet has become an important trait of his.

While you may not know much about his existence, he knows just about everything on yours. He knows what you do, he knows how you act, he knows who you have contact with.... It wasn't all that hard for him to hack into various spaces online to obtain info.

Ghost has an influence on your life despite not fully being a part of it. He wishes he could be closer but that would have to wait. For now, be keeps his spot open.

Those who get too close are inflicted with the curse that is Ghost. If he feels someone is too close to you, the one he's so fascinated about, he deals with them. There's no need to be so gorey, he could end their life easily with a silenced weapon after luring them away.

But there's a certain satisfaction when their blood covers his gloves.

He could use a gun and get things over with quickly. A knife allows him to see the life leave their eyes at his hands, however. It allows him to show how much power he has over the. It's... satisfying.

The disturbing part is that the people he removes from your life are typically close with you. Friends and possible lovers are usual picks. Your siblings or parents are considered but he holds himself back.

Removing rivals already strains you enough as is.

Ghost often finds himself holding back when it comes to you. Isolating you socially often eases the sickly concoction of jealous envy within him... but then he watches you mourn. He often ends up telling himself it's too soon to intervene.

Ghost is often there, even during your worst moments. He sees every mournful cry that he knows damn well he caused. He sees every little twitch and mumble in your sleep. He even sees all the things you do when you think you're alone.

It's all so cute... he loves the fact you're so unaware.

Ghost takes after his name when it comes to you. Like a ghost he slips into your home in the late hours of the night occasionally. He watches you as you sleep, maybe even lightly stroking your skin as you slumber away.

Ghost takes small memorabilia to take with him. He's always quiet, completely silent as he leaves with little implication he was there. The only thing you wake up to is you possibly misplacing some items and a breezy window.

Ghost prefers to keep things this way. As much as he'd like to barge in on your life to comfort and love you like he wants, he can't. He has to be patient and slowly tiptoe around your life.

The most you know of his presence is slight glances and ghostly touches at night. The smell of metallic blood sometimes greets your nose and it chills you to the bone. It's even worse when you get word someone close to you has gone missing again.

Ghost is aware him manipulating your life like this only hurts you. The murder, the stalking, it all makes you paranoid and terrified. He's hurting you for his own selfish gain.

Yet he justifies it by telling himself he'll be closer to you soon.

For now things will be soft touches while you're unaware. For now he'll resort to dirty work to keep others away. For now he'll haunt your life like a ghost until the time is just right.

Even now as he slips into your window again to kneel beside your body, he thinks of the future.

Soon he'll no longer be a ghost to you. Soon he'll introduce himself and become close to you. He'll try to take things slow but will take what he wants if he feels he's losing you.

The future between you holds so much potential in his eyes. As he watches you quietly while you sleep and quietly slips his hand into yours, he thinks of it all. You two could be great for each other.

Soon... he won't just have to be a phantom in your life. You won't have to question if he's really there or not. You'll know he's with you.

Unfortunately, you may then know everything.

You'll know the murder he's done. You'll learn why you smell blood on him and why you're so alone. He'll scare you like a ghost if he doesn't play things right.

The fear of pushing you away keeps Ghost from giving into his desires fully. He can't get ahead of himself. Even if he wants to take his chances and kiss those lips of yours or lay next to you... he knows better.

Ghost above all else is a tactical soldier. He can't rush things until he has a plan. Watching you and barely being a part of your life will have to do.

A barely audible sigh leave him as he strokes your cheek. Afterwards he backs away and makes his way back towards your window. Like a phantom, he's gone in an instant.

Only he knows he'll be back the next night to watch you...

Perhaps even the next few nights after that... all until everything's perfect and he can claim you as his.

[fandomwritingbit]

"Not so clever now , are you?"

Michael Afton x afab/smart mouth reader

Req: "Michael x fem reader where they are always going at it, reader has a smart mouth, but one day Mike just goes full dom on her and she goes completely sub."

Hi, @exverlysano I hope this is alright lmao, thank you so much for the request xx

Warnings: bad puns and smut

Morning: 

You watch your boyfriend turn his head to look out the rear window of his car whilst he reversed into a bay, noting that he looked good while he did it, his jaw sharp and shoulders broad. He clearly knew it too, because he hit you with a cocky smirk. When he was finished you open the door to check his positioning, laughing immediately. 

“You’re joking, Mikey, you can’t leave it like that. It’s wonky as.”

He mirrors you, cracking open the door, “What are you talking about? It’s fine.” He makes a point of closing the door again, loudly, looking at you as if you’re insane, becoming annoyed when you just match the stare.

Scoffing, you just shake your head. “Nah, it isn’t. It’s wonky. Won-key.” you tease, loving the crease between his brow. “But then again, it’s not the only thing that’s wonky is it?” you giggle, nudging him with your elbow.

He rolls his eyes at you, desperately trying not to give you a reaction because he knew how much it spurred you on. So you put your hand on his arm, using your best feigned apologetic face, “Sorry, Mikey… I know positioning has never been your strong suit.” you can’t make it through the sentence without grinning, and you don’t get it all out before he unclips his seatbelt and shoves the door open to step out. 

“Oh come on!” you laugh, “Come on, Mike - it’s funny!” he doesn’t think so, leaving you to grab your bag and rush out the car.

~

Afternoon:

You watch Michael playing fifa, it’s an online game, one that looks pretty intense too. So intense that even though he has a headset on you can hear the buzz of voices, no doubt swearing at each other in frustration. Seeing that the climax of the match isn’t far away, you sit down just inside his peripheral, watching the timer count down and the movement of his fingers becoming more frantic on the controller. 

You can see the crash from miles away, your lover talking loudly, “To me. To me, I’m open, come on. Yeah-” As the teammate obeys, Mike flummoxes, literally and metaphorically dropping the ball, screwing up the shot. The roar from his headset says it all. 

He turns to you, slowly pulling it from his head, the voices still buzzing, “Don’t.” His finger came up, trying to warn you, how cute. “Just don’t. I can’t believe-”

“You ballsed it up?” You say instantly, trying to stop your mouth from curling into your cheeky smile. When he doesn’t laugh, you double down. “Away, if you don’t think that’s a good joke then you’ve moved the goalpost.” 

“I’m serious, y/n. Don’t, I’m pissed off.” He starts to leave the room, but you catch his arm, looking up at him all innocent. 

“Yeah, I can see that…” You smile sympathetically, when his face softens your mind  practically vibrates with excitement. “As a treat why don’t I go and-” you crack, “score us some pizza.” He goes stiff under your grip and pulls himself away. 

“Absolutely fuck off. You don’t know when to quit, do you?” 

“Alright, Mike. No need to kick off.” 

~

Around 10pm it boiled over. 

Ever since you started dating Michael, you took the mick out of him 24-fucking-7, and you knew you could reasonably get away with it. He was too nice to you and given it was only poking fun he tried not to take it too seriously, and mostly he could just forget about the teasing in favour of the times when you’re soft and sweet. Like when you wake up and cuddle into him with no snarky remarks exchanged. When you make him a coffee and set it down beside him with no previous conversation. When you wrap your arms around his waist in public just to breathe his scent. 

But right now, he had enough. All day it had been non-stop, a quip here, some snarky criticism there, a joke at his expense. 

You’re minding your own business, sitting at a counter in the kitchen and scrolling on your phone, seeing him come in you flash him that cheeky grin, which perhaps normally would have made him smile back. But today he just looked past you to the dirty pots sitting at the side of the sink, instantly rolling his eyes. 

“Really? You can’t clean up after yourself?” he snaps, walking over to the sink and flipping the tap on full-whack out of anger, the water splashing you both. You jump back laughing, the cold seeping through your shirt, watching him turn it back off again, the pissed-off look not leaving his face. 

Standing on your tip-toes you wrap your arms around his neck from behind, devilish smirk still strong, “That’s not the way to go about making me wet, Mikey.” Your joke makes him tense under you, and even when you pressed a kiss against his cheek he didn’t soften. 

He let you slide around him and kiss him properly, your hands coming up to rub his chest. And it was tempting to let you take the lead and forgive you for all your teasing, especially when he felt himself twitch as your hands moved lower; then it occurred to him that he didn’t have to give in easily, he could make you work to earn his forgiveness.

His hand was suddenly rough in your hair, wrenching you against the counter where he again kissed you, his tongue pushing into your mouth. You moan against him, tugging at his shirt, this wasn’t like Michael at all, but you sort of liked it. You try to pull the fabric over his head and he grunts disapprovingly, shoving you against the counter harder, taking a handful of your tits. 

“Did I say you could do that?” he speaks against your lips before tilting his head to your neck, biting down on your flesh much harder than he usually would. 

“Ah-fuck.” you pant, struggling to keep up with him, as he pulls your trousers down around your ankles, “Since when did I have to ask?” you manage to bite back, before breaking into a moan as he sucked a mark on the underside of your jaw. 

Strong arms hook under you and lift you onto the kitchen counter, his foot prying the garments from around your ankles leaving them to fall to the floor. “Since now.” He says against your skin, so firmly that you giggle, this was a completely different look on him.

Your laughing provokes him to damn-near tear the shirt from your body, then force your bra high on your chest, leaving you all but completely nude in your kitchen, whilst the man in front of you stays fully clothed looking as close to menacing as he could. 

Michael drops down to the floor, surprisingly forceful hands spreading your legs for him and holding them firm. There he runs his fingers over your folds, eliciting a pitiful sound from you. “Look at you.” His tone is sharp and the words are spoken so close to your core it makes your stomach tense, “Only time you’re quiet is when I’m giving this pussy some attention. All you think about, huh?” You would have laughed again, if not for his tongue suddenly pressing against your nerves and sending a spark through your body. God, you wanted to complain and tell him he was moving too fast but your dripping heat was proof that you didn’t really mind it at all. 

Instinctively you grab his hair, a gasp escaping your lips as he sets a harsh pace of flicking between your clit and pressing into your hole. He takes hold of your wrist and pulls you from him, holding your hand against your thigh, looking up at you with a glare of warning that killed any thought of protest you had. 

“Yeah, nothing to say now.” He muttered, this idea of showing you who's boss now fully solidified in his head, the role coming to him easier than he would’ve thought. 

You only whine in response, feeling utterly pathetic but silently thrilled. This dominance was stirring you hardcore, making a frantic coil in your core form quick and desperate. His sucking of your clit is both not enough and too much at the same time. And without his hair to hold on to, you find yourself bruising your own skin with your grip, being shoved to your end by the now brutal movement of his tongue. It hits you like a tonne of bricks, non-existent purchase making your toes curl with the waves of pleasure he just wrought from you. He grunts when he feels you clench, the reminder of how tight you’d feel around him causing pre-cum to leak from his tip. 

With no time to get your bearings, he yanks you off the counter and you habitually wrap your legs around his waist, letting him carry you towards your bedroom, not really knowing what you were getting into. 

“Mikey, what’s come over you?” you gasp when he tosses you down onto the bed, looking big and scary over you. 

He looks down at you with an almost bored expression on his face, undoing his belt as he answers, “Just tired of your shit.” 

You blink, “You can’t be seri- Mike, I only joke like that because you usually take it so well-”

“Then, how about you take it well right now, huh?” 

You’re giggling again when he takes hold of your ankles to pull you closer to him. The sight of him slowly stroking his cock making your pussy flutter with the knowledge of his size, made worse by the harsh look of his face.  

Oddly, he takes his time, dragging the head of his dick through your slick, using it to stroke himself, before notching in your entrance slowly. He just loved how your breath hitched as he sunk in, he’d never tire of the feeling of you stretching for him and right now it tasted doubly sweet.

The familiar feeling of him inside you made you moan. But something about his calmness was stirring you, making you impatient for him to fully bury inside you, so you reach forward to grab his forearms, pulling at him. And it was like a switch flipped in his brain, why the hell do you still think this is your game? Has he not been clear enough? 

Without a word exchanged, he begins thrusting into you roughly, a grunt punctuating every time he fully sheathes, his cock shoving into the part of you that made you come undone so perfectly. He takes hold of your legs and pulls them upwards to see the view of your cunt taking him in, your greediness evident in your pooling slick and the pretty noises you’re making.  

You’re blinded by his near-ruthless pace, his hips snapping into yours with a force you’d never seen from him and it left you feeling fucking stupid. The mix of your squeaks and moans and the lewd sound of his action are close to chaos, so much so that you hardly register Michael talking.

“Ah-not so clever now, are you?” 

[watatsumiis]

Reactions to Being Ignored for Video Games (part 3)

Modern AU Genshin characters react to the reader not paying attention to them in favour of a video game! No content warnings apply. Enjoy!

Characters: Heizou, Kaveh, Kazuha, Lisa, Pantalone, Pierro

Part 1 (Ayato, Arlecchino, Baizhu, Capitano, Childe, Cyno)

Part 2 (Dainsleif, Diluc, Dottore, Foul Legacy, Gorou, Itto)

Heizou doesn't take it super personally, he understands being super invested in something and not wanting to pull your attention away. It doesn't stop him from getting bored, though. He'll sit near you and comment on your game, your technique, everything. If you're playing something that's story-heavy, he'll be trying to guess every little twist and turn, what will happen next, which characters will die, everything. The worst part about it is that he's usually right, this guy can pick up on patterns with incredible efficiency, so no foreshadowing slips by him. Because of this, you'd be better off just giving him attention if you don't want your game spoiled for you.

Kaveh simply cannot handle being ignored. He picks up on the fact that you're not paying attention immediately, and he will whine about it. He'll stand in front of the console, or wave his hands in your face, and pout adorably at you. He has no shame, he's like a needy dog, all up in your space and chattering away. He gets very pouty very quickly if you continue to ignore him, and may even storm off, only to come back within less than a minute. It doesn't take long for him to start getting genuinely upset though, and you know you'll have to go into damage control mode when he finally sits down and just mopes like a pathetic little clump of dirt. He doesn't mean for it to come off as guilt trippy, he's just extraordinarily sensitive and needs some form of acknowledgement when he's seeking it or else he starts to get freaked out.

Kazuha doesn't mind - he understands that sometimes people need some time alone with their thoughts and something simple and easy to do so that they can unwind. Sometimes he doesn't quite understand that alone time really does mean alone time. He'll take a seat nearby and look over your shoulder, making quiet observations about the game, maybe even pulling inspiration from it for his poetry. It's not like he's actively expecting you to respond (more just talking away to himself), but it can be a little offputting either way to have him just hovering there and counting out syllables for a haiku or something. If you ask him nicely, he's fine if you'd like him to leave or be quiet (though he struggles a bit with being entirely silent or still), but it won't take long for him to start suffering from your lack of acknowledgement, and he may get up and leave to go find something more stimulating for him to do.

Lisa pulls the classic mom-type reaction, standing in your peripheral with her hands on her hips or crossed over her chest after she's said your name. Her presence is pretty hard to ignore, and she'll get pretty grumpy if you manage to do so. She understands the concept of online games, and games you can't pause, so you'll get a small grace period, but she gets antsy quickly, and may start to lecture you on your manners or other such things. If you don't want a stern scolding, you'd probably want to turn whatever device you're playing off and start paying attention, or else she'll find some chores or something to assign you - even if she has no right whatsoever to do so.

Pantalone will have absolutely none of it. You don't get a grace period, if he's in the room and talking to you, he expects your complete and utter unwavering attention, he doesn't care whether or not you're in the middle of a super important multiplayer match, or if you just need ten seconds more. He'll snatch the controller from you and turn his nose up as he continues with whatever he's saying as your character slowly dies on screen. He has a certain affinity for efficiency, so doesn't like having to repeat himself when he truly doesn't have to. If you miss an integral part of something he's saying because you're doing something else, he considers that to be your problem, not his, and off he goes.

Pierro doesn't understand any of these 'videos game', or 'television sets', or why you're so enamoured by them. It baffles him entirely, all he knows is how to change the volume and turn the TV on and off when he wants to watch his shows (or 'stories' as he so eloquently dubs them). He just wanders to stand in front of you and talk at you, whether or not you're actually paying attention. The only real reaction he has to being utterly ignored is to speak a little louder and move a little closer, though he has no qualms about confiscating your device if he's trying to have a proper conversation with you and you're snubbing him entirely. He just plucks it from your hands, finishes what he's saying, then walks off with it.

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagarise my writing! This includes posting translations to other sites.

[easyshoppii]

What Accessories Should I Get for a Gaming PC? 

When it comes to PC gaming, accessories are essential to take your experience to the next level. 

Here are some must-have gaming accessories: 

Gaming Mouse and Keyboard: Precise control is crucial in gaming. Invest in a high-quality gaming mouse and Mechanical Gaming keyboard with customizable features to match your playstyle. 

Headset: A good gaming headset immerses you in the game's audio and enables clear communication with your teammates. Look for noise cancellation and a comfortable fit. 

Monitor A high-refresh-rate monitor with low response time ensures a smoother gaming experience. Consider an upgrade to a gaming-specific monitor. 

Controller: If you prefer a gamepad, invest in a high-quality controller for a more relaxed gaming experience. 

Mousepad: A large, quality mousepad allows for fluid mouse movements and precise aiming. 

Gaming Chair: Comfort is essential during long gaming sessions. A gaming chair offers ergonomic support and enhances your overall experience. 

Webcam and Microphone: If you enjoy streaming or multiplayer games, a good webcam and microphone are essential for communication and interaction with your audience. 

For a wide range of gaming accessories, check out EasyShoppi's Gaming Accessories section. 

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

yellow rose with idia? ^^

Idia Shroud:

Yellow Rose - a happy thought that causes a smile.

Today was a day to celebrate memories.

Idia awkwardly fumbled with his tie, feeling it was so tight it might strangle him. Ortho had checked at least three times and confirmed it was fine, but had since left the room to focus on other tasks that needed to be done. Idia had practically thrown him out as the constant reminder of his quickened pulse and high blood pressure only made his anxiety feel worse. He could only stare at himself in the mirror for so long, though he did admire his handiwork as his hair was neatly braided with his brushed aside to prevent his face from being covered. There weren’t many stylists gifted with the ability to style cursed hair and he’d really rather do it himself anyway.

Today was too important for anything to go wrong.

“It’s time!” Ortho floated into the room with an excited look on his face, gesturing to the hall where there would be many people awaiting his arrival. It made his knees knock together as he’s about to be thrown into an ultra-stressful situation, like he was desperately climbing ladders and avoiding barrels to reach a princess who didn’t even want him.

But you did want him, because how else would he have ended up here?

He has a lot to thank Ortho for, including the embarrassing situation that had got you here to begin with. They had been playing a silly little otome game together, meaning Idia was on a CG collecting journey and Ortho was helping him remember which path led where. There was a scene between two main characters where a note was exchanged, something very juvenile with a ‘do you like me, y/n?’ written on it.

“Have you ever tried that?” Idia was carefully reading the dialogue, making sure there were no flags being raised that he was on the wrong route and thus locked out of a precious CG that constantly eluded him due to the specific choices that had to be done in a very specific order and—

“Tried—Eh?” Idia hit his keyboard and accidentally began to skip already seen dialogue, panicking and back tracking to his previous save while Ortho patiently waited next to him. “Wh-what are you saying?”

“Writing a note!” Ortho pointed at the screen where a crudely drawn note was, suddenly looking around the room as he tried to find a physical example for Idia to use. It took some snooping but he found a few crumpled pieces of paper with madman scrawling on only half of it, tearing it apart and handing over the blank piece. “Ask them if they like you, and then I can deliver it! If they say no, you don’t even have to see them!”

It wasn’t like Ortho to indulge in his brother’s extreme introvert nature, and Idia was nearly swayed before remembering it could also implode the fragile balance of his online friend group. You, him, and Crimson Muscle made a formidable group, often being enough to on most raids together so he didn’t have to interact with other idiots online. It was much less painful to speak with you through a screen, knowing he could erase a message over and over until he got it just right. He couldn’t sacrifice that, could he?

He should’ve known Ortho’s mercy was only temporary.

Idia was forced out of the solitude of his room, a luncheon being held to celebrate the hard work of each dorm leader being held. He’d rather eat his own hands than celebrate but Crowley wouldn’t budge, persistent and irritating about the whole ordeal. The only good part was seeing your face in high-def rather than via a pixelated avatar online. He still didn’t sit directly across from you but diagonal was good enough for him; not the center of your attention but just within your peripheral where you could notice him.

“Psst, brother! I brought it!” Idia has a piece of paper hastily shoved into his hand, “I wrote it last night! Now you can give it to them in person for an even quicker response!”

He’s suddenly certain the entire world is conspiring against him, trying not to attract your attention as he frantically responded to Ortho.

“That won’t work!”

“Why not?” Ortho tilted his head in a clueless gesture, “In 4 out of the 6 good ends, the note is the pivotal moment in all of them! The Bad End only triggered if you didn’t build up your characters confidence enough to pass the note in class!”

Ortho is just quiet enough that you can’t make out exactly what he’s saying but you can hear him speaking, your eyebrows raised as you looked at the Shroud brothers. Idia saw the dialogue options appear before his very eyes as reality blended with video games for a moment: he could either pass the note to you now and accept the consequences or allow Ortho to reveal it was from the plot of some 3-star Otome game since he wasn’t creative enough to come up with his own way to confess.

He had tossed the paper at you, watching it land right in your half-open bag before he dashed, moving quicker than his physical body had ever moved before. He’d personally expel himself if Crowley tried to drag him back out of his room, he’d just take his parents business over and that’d be the end of that. He didn’t know how long he’d been curled up on his bed, face in his pillow as he considered just smothering himself rather than facing the light of day again. Life’s built-in autosave meant his fate was sealed and, somehow, he felt even more cursed than before.

Until a note slipped under his door, the side the writing was on turned upward so he could see it from his bed.

A little ‘y’ circled in red ink had led to this.

A grand hall decorated with flowers, STYX employees in their finest clothing filling most of the seats, the smell of expensive but most likely delicious foods just waiting to steal everyone’s attention away. When Idia entered the room he could see some of his and your family, along with a few friends dotted throughout but he can’t look for long as he felt like he might pass out.

He stood tall at the front of the room, glancing at the entry way anxiously, like he was truly afraid a too big primate would come through beating his fists on his chest and kidnapping his lover. He had been in a position like this before, albeit less willingly, and he began to understand now why it was so important to put his feelings out there even with the chance of rejection. A bell chimes and the music begins, and Idia can’t wipe the smile from his face.

The pointed grin remained even as you approached, your expression mirroring his as you smiled right back; he suspected by the end of the night his cheeks would ache with how happy he was, but he supposed he could put up with it for a day, for you.

[vintage-tech]

Some people found a way around the limitations of the Atari 2600's 128 bytes of RAM, such as by putting extra memory in the cartridges or, as we see here, making a peripheral that plugs into the cartridge slot and you attach a cassette tape player to it. It's the Starpath 'Supercharger'! Load Atari games off cassette like it was a Commode computer into the expanded memory and get better graphics and gameplay. Here we see five of the best games -- Escape From The Mindmaster, Phaser Patrol, Communist Mutants from Space, Fireball, and Suicide Mission.

While Parker Brothers had the cartridge license for Frogger for the 2600 in 1981, Sierra Online had the magnetic media rights for computers... so in 1983 made "The Official Frogger" on cassette, which looks a lot better.

Also, Gremlins by Atari, after the 1984 movie featuring Mogwai, which you probably shouldn't play after midnight.

[i4bellingham]

I really like your fics. I was wondering if you could do an imagine where Marcus dedicates a goal to Y/N

GOAL (OF THE HEART): marcus rashford x reader

NOTE: real life situations will not align with this fic but for the sake of this fic, please ignore them :)) also, this is one of my most favorite written pieces so far i swear to god night time brings ✨ something ✨ in me when i write (but unfortunately not every night lmao)

It was such a silly promise he had made to you while growing up.

“If I score a goal for you in our game in Monday, we will have to get married when we grow up.” An ten-year old Marcus Rashford proposes, giving you his still unopened ring pop as a form of sealing the deal. You slide the candy ring to your ring finger just like where your Ma has her's. “You better score more than one then.”

“Sure.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

Marcus did. He scored a hefty of goals during his time, growing tremendously on the passion he's got for football as he bagged goals after goals in his games.

There were timesㅡ a patch where he was out of form, made everything about the sport he loves grow a tad bit challenging. It also didn't help that a single mistake he had made came a wave of online hate directed towards him.

Those were the tough times, but still, you stood by his side as his best friend, his confidant, his girlfriend, the love of his life.

And as Marcus scored the final goal, one that was trivial to winning the title for The Carabao’s Cup, the silly promise he had made to you as a kid now turned into something more than just what it was, a silly little promise of a young boy who shared his dreams and passion for football to his friend, a girl next door who used to call him ‘Marc’ growing up because she couldn't be bothered to pronounce his two-syllable name, the girl who watched him practice his dribbling skills behind their muddy backyard even during the rain.

Every single Reds fans erupted into a holler of cheers, uniting as one as they waved the huge red Manchester United banner, popping every red confetti as they cheered for the victory of their team.

Every player, Ten Hag and a few of the team staff were huddled near the box, almost squashing your boyfriend underneath as they celebrated his goal. You can see a few tear-streaked faces from where you're sat, most probably from the win and finally ending the 5-year drought of not winning a single title in different cups as you yourself wipe tears off from your own eyes.

The guys, after a little while of congratulating and dapping each other stood and formed a line in front of their very enthusiastic and supportive fans, some waved, some bowed and some gave away flying kisses before walking off to find their own families.

Due to some schedule conflicts, Marcus’ family wasn't able to watch this game live, leaving you to watch him play and support him on the stead of his family. One single look through your Instagram, they were of course already the first one's to congratulate your boyfriend, posting lengthy messages with photos of their tele as they watch the game from their homes.

On your peripheral vision, you see the man of the game jogging towards your seat, and you immediately jump up, shoving your phone into your back pocket before meeting Marcus from behind the barricade as he reaches both arms out to wrap around your waist.

“Oh my god! I am so proud of you!” You gush against his neck, cupping his face before kissing him on both cheeks.

Marcus takes the liberty of connecting your lips together before you could get any far. You wrap both hands behind his neck, ignoring his sweaty state as he pulls away just to pick you up from behind the barricade that separates you both and placing you on the ground in front of him. Then he kisses you hard again, fervent but not bruising.

“Do you remember my promise when we were ten?” He asks, glancing towards where Sancho was approaching.

You scrunch your nose, patting his chest. “You have made a handful of promises Mr. Rashford, you may have to remind me on this one.”

You cheekily smile at him, teasing because he knew that you knew. But as always, the challenge was welcomed.

Sancho arrives, wrapping an arm over your boyfriend’s shoulder and with a few pats on the back and a ‘good luck mate,’ he leaves the two of you alone but not before shooting you a knowing smile.

“I scored a goal for you...” Marcus takes his hand that was behind him, showing you a small red velvet box, then he kneels and opening the box to reveal a beautiful diamond ring over a golden band and you're cupping a palm over your mouth. “In a Monday game... so will you please do give me the honor of being your husband?”

Freely, the tears start to fall on your cheeks, the sound of the fans who were seeing the moment live cheered as you had Marcus kneeling on the ground before you.

“I didn’t score more than one goal today but, I was hoping I’d score your yes with this one because as cheesy as this may sound, that's one of my goals since I was ten...” Marcus laughs when you sob against your palm, failing to wipe away your tears but you move to wipe his when the first one fell on his cheek.

You didn't say yes, not immediately but you did nod your head before a shaky yes, yes Marcus I’ll marry you leaves your lips, tackling your boyfriend to the ground as he loops an arm around your waist whilst you're nuzzling your face against his chest, sobbing.

“You’re so cheesy but I love you.” You hiccup, raising your head just to see the herd of football players rushing to your way most likely to congratulate you.

Marcus flicks a stray hair out of your face, cupping your right cheek before he's slipping the ring in your ring finger, just like where your Ma has her's, and he's leaning down to kiss your lips, never mind the salty taste of tears on his tongue.

“You promise?” Marcus smiles as he parts, using the pad of his thumb to wipe your cheeks.

You nod, connecting your foreheads together as you answer. “I promise.”

[tanadrin]

The invention of the basic BCI was revolutionary, though it did not seem so at the time. Developing implantable electronics that could detect impulses from, and provide feedback to, the body's motor and sensory neurons was a natural outgrowth of assistive technologies in the 21st century. The Collapse slowed the development of this technology, but did not stall it completely; the first full BCI suite capable of routing around serious spinal cord damage, and even reducing the symptoms of some kinds of brain injury, was developed in the 2070s. By the middle of the 22nd century, this technology was widely available. By the end, it was commonplace.

But we must distinguish, as more careful technologists did even then, between simpler BCI--brain-computer interfaces--and the subtler MMI, the mind-machine interface. BCI technology, especially in the form of assistive devices, was a terrific accomplishment. But the human sensory and motor systems, at least as accessed by that technology, are comparatively straightforward. Despite the name, a 22nd century BCI barely intrudes into the brain at all, with most of its physical connections being in the spine or peripheral nervous system. It does communicate *with* the brain, and it does so much faster and more reliably than normal sensory input or neuronal output, but there nevertheless still existed in that period a kind of technological barrier between more central cognitive functions, like memory, language, and attention, and the peripheral functions that the BCI was capable of augmenting or replacing.

*That* breakthrough came in the first decades of the 23rd century, again primarily from the medical field: the subarachnoid lace or neural lace, which could be grown from a seed created from the patient's own stem cells, and which found its first use in helping stroke patients recover cognitive function and suppressing seizures. The lace is a delicate web of sensors and chemical-electrical signalling terminals that spreads out over, and carefully penetrats certain parts of the brain; in its modern form, its function and design can be altered even after it is implanted. Most humans raised in an area with access to modern medical facilities have at least a diagnostic lace in place; and, in most contexts, they are regarded as little more than a medical tool.

But of course some of the scientists who developed the lace were interested in pushing the applications of the device further, and in this, they were inspired by the long history of attempts to develop immersive virtual reality that had bedevilled futurists since the 20th century. Since we have had computers capable of manipuating symbolic metaphors for space, we have dreamed of creating a virtual space we can shape to our hearts' content: worlds to escape to, in which we are freed from the tyranny of physical limitations that we labor under in this one. The earliest fiction on this subject imagined a kind of alternate dimension, which we could forsake our mundane existence for entirely, but outside of large multiplayer games that acted rather like amusement parks, the 21st century could only offer a hollow ghost of the Web, bogged down by a cumbersome 3D metaphor users could only crudely manipulate.

The BCI did little to improve the latter--for better or worse, the public Web as we created it in the 20th century is in its essential format (if not its scale) the public Web we have today, a vast library of linked documents we traverse for the most part in two dimensions. It feeds into and draws from the larger Internet, including more specialized software and communications systems that span the whole Solar System (and which, at its margins, interfaces with the Internet of other stars via slow tightbeam and packet ships), but the metaphor of physical space was always going to be insufficient for so complex and sprawling a medium.

What BCI really revolutionized was the massively multiplayer online game. By overriding sensory input and capturing motor output before it can reach the limbs, a BCI allows a player to totally inhabit a virtual world, limited only by the fidelity of the experience the software can offer. Some setups nowadays even forgo overriding the motor output, having the player instead stand in a haptic feedback enclosure where their body can be scanned in real time, with only audio and visual information being channeled through the BCI--this is a popular way to combine physical exercise and entertainment, especially in environments like space stations without a great deal of extra space.

Ultra-immersive games led directly, I argue, to the rise of the Sodalities, which were, if you recall, originally MMO guilds with persistent legal identities. They also influenced the development of the Moon, not just by inspiring the Sodalities, but by providing a channel, through virtual worlds, for socialization and competition that kept the Moon's political fragmentation from devolving into relentless zero-sum competition or war. And for most people, even for the most ardent players of these games, the BCI of the late 22nd century was sufficient. There would always be improvements in sensory fidelity to be made, and new innovations in the games themselves eagerly anticipated every few years, but it seemed, even for those who spent virtually all their waking hours in these spaces, that there was little more that could be accomplished.

But some dreamers are never satisfied; and, occasionally, such dreamers carry us forward and show us new possibilities. The Mogadishu Group began experimenting with pushing the boundaries of MMI and the ways in which MMI could augment and alter virtual spaces in the 2370s. Mare Moscoviensis Industries (the name is not a coincidence) allied with them in the 2380s to release a new kind of VR interface that was meant to revolutionize science and industry by allowing for more intuitive traversal of higher-dimensional spaces, to overcome some of the limits of three-dimensional VR. Their device, the Manifold, was a commercial disaster, with users generally reporting horrible and heretofore unimagined kinds of motion-sickness. MMI went bankrupt in 2387, and was bought by a group of former Mogadishu developers, who added to their number a handful of neuroscientists and transhumanists. They relocated to Plato City, and languished in obscurity for about twenty years.

The next anybody ever heard of the Plato Group (as they were then called), they had bought an old interplanetary freighter and headed for the Outer Solar System. They converted their freighter into a cramped-but-servicable station around Jupiter, and despite occasionally submitting papers to various neuroscience journals and MMI working groups, little was heard from them. This prompted, in 2410, a reporter from the Lunar News Service to hire a private craft to visit the Jupiter outpost; she returned four years later to describe what she found, to general astonishment.

The Plato Group had taken their name more seriously, perhaps, than anyone expected: they had come to regard the mundane, real, three-dimensional world as a second-rate illusion, as shadows on cave walls. But rather than believing there already existed a true realm of forms which they might access by reason, they aspired to create one. MMI was to be the basis, allowing them to free themselves not only of the constraints of the real world (as generations of game-players had already done), but to free themselves of the constraints imposed on those worlds by the evolutionary legacy of the structures of their mind.

They decided early on, for instance, that the human visual cortex was of little use to them. It was constrained to apprehending three-dimensional space, and the reliance of the mind on sight as a primary sense made higher-dimensional spaces difficult or impossible to navigate. Thus, their interface used visual cues only for secondary information--as weak and nondirectional a sense as smell. They focused on using the neural lace to control the firing patterns of the parts of the brain concerned with spatial perception: the place cells, neurons which periodically fire to map spaces to fractal grides of familiar places, and the grid cells, which help construct a two-dimensional sense of location. Via external manipulation, they found they could quickly accommodate these systems to much more complex spaces--not just higher dimensions, but non-Euclidean geometries, and vast hierarchies of scale from the Planck length to many times the size of the observable universe.

The goal of the Plato Group was not simply to make a virtual space to inhabit, however transcendent; into that space they mapped as much information they could, from the Web, the publicly available internet, and any other database they could access, or library that would send them scans of its collection. They reveled in the possibilities of their invented environment, creating new kinds of incomprehensible spatial and sensory art. When asked what the purpose of all this was--were they evangelists for this new mode of being, were they a new kind of Sodality, were they secessionists protesting the limits of the rest of the Solar System's imagination?--they simply replied, "We are happy."

I do not think anyone, on the Moon or elsewhere, really knew what to make of that. Perhaps it is simply that the world they inhabit, however pleasant, is so incomprehensible to us that we cannot appreciate it. Perhaps we do not want to admit there are other modes of being as real and moving to those who inhabit them as our own. Perhaps we simply have a touch of chauvanism about the mundane. If you wish to try to understand yourself, you may--unlike many other utopian endeavors, the Plato Group is still there. Their station--sometimes called the Academy by outsiders, though they simply call it "home"--has expanded considerably over the years. It hangs in the flux tube between Jupiter and Io, drawing its power from Jupiter's magnetic field, and is, I am told, quite impressive if a bit cramped. You can glimpse a little of what they have built using an ordinary BCI-based VR interface; a little more if your neural lace is up to spec. But of course to really understand, to really see their world as they see it, you must be willing to move beyond those things, to forsake--if only temporarily--the world you have been bound to for your entire life, and the shape of the mind you have thus inherited. That is perhaps quite daunting to some. But if we desire to look upon new worlds, must we not always risk that we shall be transformed?

--Tjungdiawain’s Historical Reader, 3rd edition

[kitsantoss]

[Andre Lamoglia, Cis Man, He-They ] — whoa! Kit Santos just stole my cab! not cool, but maybe they needed it more. they have lived in the city for 8 YEARS, working as a WRITER. that can’t be easy, especially at only 29 YEARS OLD. some people say they can be a little bit SNARKY and YAPPY , but I know them to be ENERGETIC and CHARMING. whatever. I guess I’ll catch the next cab. hope they like the ride back to BROOKLYN! — (Juicy, 21+, est, any, n/a)

tw: cancer, death

Life can be pretty fucking shitty, and that all rings especially true when you’re young and think of nothing but the future, of growing up, never truly appreciating the time of your youth. Kit had learned this lesson early on, a child of the system, the byproduct of high school sweetheart love, two so enamored yet unprepared for the harsh reality of the world, so that baby that came out of spurious love would never know his parents, or at the very least those he shared DNA with. Not that it mattered as he never really lived in the system for long as some hopeful couple had wanted a baby for so long, but they just didn’t have any luck, so in some ways Kit was their miracle child. Besides the somewhat cautionary tale that was his birth, life was pretty normal for him, he was good in school, was an honor roll student all the way up until senior year when he was ready to venture out into the world and become a professional. At least, that was the plan, that’s what most young adults did once their high school career was over, go into higher education, get a degree, and make a career out of it. But on a night out with friends, one of the many that he’d come to know a night that was supposed to be like any other, his world turned upside down. Kit had passed out during one of the school’s football games, walking into the parking lot with his friends as they all celebrated the victory, he collapsed as he fell to catch up to them, and that was all he could recall as the darkness that was trying to invade from his peripheral took over.

The diagnosis was adenocarcinoma, and the fainting spell was brought on due to dehydration probably from the upchucking that he had done at home prior, thinking it must’ve been the corn dog he had ate that just didn’t sit with right him. They told him and his family about the available procedures and all that they could offer, and Kit couldn’t think, he couldn’t say a single word, all he could do was sit there and listen as the fear hit him like a truck. It dashed all his hopes and dreams of the future, as it looked grim, but he was up for the fight, as they call it. As if this thing was just another type of battlefield that he was wholly unprepared for, but he wanted to live, so what other choices were there? After a year in treatment, things started to take a turn for the worse, the doctors were giving up hope, and the look on his parents face as they tried to assuage the news didn’t help. Kit was left in that hospital bed looking at all the stories from his friends, moving on with their lives, going off into college, and he was just stagnant, deteriorating, as if his own body was waging a war with itself. After being told he only had maybe less than a year, he decided to spend his few remaining days in a place he had found online. A place that housed kids like him, kids who were terminal and wanted a better way to spend the rest of their remaining days. So as his bags were packed, he ventured off to what might be       the best time in his life.

It felt like Hospice, except all the inhabitants were young, about his age, just young adults that for better or worse, lived their life as best as they could within this abode. He settled in quickly, made friends with the other kids and found in them a second family. They would all do everything together, they’d all tell the wildest stories that they could come up with, say what they would do if they ever got out that place. They’d steal alcohol, drink together, find themselves in the woods making a little bonfire, and Kit figured that it might not be so bad to go if you were surrounded by people who truly loved and cherished you, and knew exactly what you were going through. Kit met a boy, and their feelings for each other sparked quickly, it was beautiful and wild and real, and all the things’ people wish for, so he thought of himself as lucky in that aspect. That he got to experience what felt like love, real love, at least if only even for a little while. They promised they’d marry if they ever got out, but as the story goes, the good times can’t last. It should’ve been obvious given all their circumstances, but it still hurt, hurt like hell to know that seat at the table would never be filled by that person ever again. Here, he began to write, began to immortalize the people he loved in his stories, gave them all the grandeur and fantasy that they deserved. In his stories they got to live, carry out their lives, he gave them adventures, romance, every other amazing thing he could think of that he knew they’d enjoy. Little by little all these stories became a book, the first of many that he would never publish, at least, he didn’t think about it at first, didn’t think he’d ever get to see his work out there in the world. These were just stories he made for his friends, of his friends, and ones that he would keep for life…or at least until his time. Kit experience heartache many other times, as a lot of the faces he knew and loved had vanished, and their big group had dwindled, but even so they never truly left, not while there were pages and lips that said their names.

Then another miracle happened, the miracle baby of his parents got one for himself, new results that said he wasn’t terminal, and that while not fully recovered it meant he could put his life back on track. He was happy, sad, guilty, angry, confused, so many things all at once because…why him? Survivor’s guilt is common, and he knew that, be he didn’t know how visceral it would truly be until he was one himself, a survivor. After he left, he promised to himself to keep them all alive, and he did, his book got published and a bestselling author he became. That one book spawned an entire series, and he had made his friends ever living in those pages that millions of others now read, they fell in love with the same people he did, but they would never truly know how amazing each of them were, not like he did. Now he lives comfortably, playing the same video games one of his friends would’ve raved about, as if he had had kept something each of them loved and carried it with him forever, or as long as that could be. Still, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever find love, or a love as beautiful as his first, survivor’s guilt is a bitch, but it’s the bitch that he carries deep within his heart, and he doesn’t know if there’s anybody who could mend it, those battle scars.