#Sd memory card reader and writer

[heartepub]

something in the orange

summary. remembrance is also reconstruction. reconstruction presupposes loss. a meditation on memory, narrative, and grief. and, of course, love. pairing. boo seungkwan x gn!reader genre/tags. ANGST, (semi-graphic) major character death, interstellar au-ish (just the blight), non-linear narrative, blurred fiction and reality if you squint (sorry I reread goodbye eri while writing), unbeta’d (mistakes are my own) wc. 5k suggested listening. love wins all, iu // 消費期限, seventeen // triassic love song, paris paloma // eight, iu prod. & ft. suga // yawn, seventeen // something in the orange, zach bryan (or niall's cover)

notes. midnight in korea now; happy birthday Seungkwannie! this is very experimental, and admittedly i'm not fully satisfied w it, but I didn't know how to change it atp. sorry boo, it's your birthday but i give you pain. as always, reblogs are appreciated and come say hi if you're so inclined 🫶🏼

D-17 EXT. SEOUL TRAIN STATION – KOREA – DAWN The sun rises over the ruins of Seoul Station. The air is clear of smoke and fog. A shot of the sun peeking over the heap of steel, glass, and cement that once served as the station’s framing. The train tracks run to the far horizon, to the left and right of the frame. Pan to YOU (young-looking though age is ambiguous, former writer, love of SEUNGKWAN’S life) squinting at an old, battered map of Korea’s train lines, and a compass. You’re wearing battered jeans that are slightly too big, boots, and a sturdy leather jacket. Behind the camera, SEUNGKWAN (male, young-sounding though age is ambiguous, former video producer) narrates.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         BOO-log number 529. We’re now figuring out how to get to Mokpo. Neither of us are any good with directions, but my partner decided that we could try following train lines since the none of them are running anyway. You look up at the sound of his voice, noticing the camera.

                YOU             (exasperated, but fond)         Kwan-ah, are you filming again? We have 30 batteries, but not all of them might be working. You might need to save battery and memory if you want to video the view of Jeju Island.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         It’s okay, I really just wanted to record us before we start. Once we’re walking, I won’t use the camera as much. And I have twenty other SD Cards!                 YOU             (not surprised)         Okay, we’ll definitely figure something out for the batteries, then.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         Yeah. Now— Seungkwan’s voice changes to a more formal tone, as though he were imitating a newscaster.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S., CONT’D)         What are your thoughts as we start our newest adventure? The camera catches your grin. You follow along, changing your tone to an impression of those backpackers in TV documentaries.                  YOU         Um, I’m excited to see Jeju-do, even from afar, because it’s part of Seungkwannie, and we had our honeymoon there. As long as we’re careful, I know we can do it. If we’re lucky, we may even find someone who can bring us across. Beat. You look ever so slightly awkward in front of the camera.                 YOU (CONT’D) Wait, here, give me the camera. I’ll record you this time. The footage shakes, briefly showing a tiled floor, then train tracks, before panning to a blurry face. The camera shakes for a moment before the image comes into focus, revealing a beautiful young man with dark hair. Seungkwan does a better job at the “interviewer voice”, but you’re no slouch either.                 YOU (O.S., CONT’D)         So, Seungkwan-ssi, what are your thoughts as we embark on a new adventure?                 SEUNGKWAN             (genuine)         I think it’s about to be wonderful.

D–2183

When the Blight started, both you and Seungkwan had been in high school. Though only having known you since that start of your third year, you’ve quickly wormed his way into his life—visiting his house, having dinners with your family, and he even managed to force you into joining the badminton club with him.

Bees now officially extinct, the news proclaims, an effect of the ravaging of nearly all plant life. Asia in particular has suffered; the widespread rice shortages due to it becoming impossible to grow resulted in widespread famine. The extinction of plants used for feed, made food prices across the board skyrocket. Corn, it seems, is the only crop that can resist the Blight—and the rest of the world now has to adjust its staple food to mimic the old Americas.

“Seungkwan.” You prod his ribs.

“Mm?”

“What would you do if the world ends tomorrow?”

“Marry you.” You laugh, until you realize he isn’t joking.

“What?” Your voice pitches to an incredulous squeak.

“Marry you,” he repeats.

“Why, though?”

“I always wanted to get married,” Seungkwan replies, after a moment of pondering. “And if the world ends tomorrow, as of today you’d be my best candidate for marriage.” 

For a moment, you just look at him, eyes tracing over his features. Your steady gaze makes him shift, uncomfortable, wondering if he said something wrong. Eventually, you shrug, though there’s a twinkle in your eye as you quirk a smile at him.

“While I don’t support shotgun marriages, I’d make an exception for you and the end of the world.”

His breath catches, heart stuttering as he tries to parse your answer in his head. “Wha—you—”

“Come on, Seungkwan, don’t dish it if you can’t take it,” you groan, flopping sideways to plop your head against the armrest. Your legs tilt as you do, your foot brushing against his calf. He tries not to jolt at the contact.

“I’m sorry!” He pouts, trying to calm the uneven fluttering of his heart. You laugh, shifting your lean in the opposite direction, so your head lands on his lap. Despite having done it a thousand times before, he traces softly the way your hair falls, admiring the way its color contrasts with the color of his pants.

(Looking back, he’ll think about how that day changed things, even just by a little bit; how his gazes grew longer, noticing more how the sunsets glowed against your face as you walked home together every day, painting you golden. How you’d both gotten used to creative ways of shelter when mild dust storms come, thanking your luck each time that you had gotten home before it truly began.

He’ll think about how, a year from that day, he kissed you as he walked you home for the last time before you enter your separate colleges, swallowing the teasing took you long enough from your lips as he finished his shaky confession. 

He’ll think of how you exchanged second buttons like those characters from that anime you liked did, and the quiet promises to make things work even as the world seems to turn more barren than both of you can follow.

He’ll think of how three years from then, he gets on one knee, to your tearful yes and salty kisses. Your small marriage, with just your families, batchmates, and some professors, followed by a beautiful honeymoon in Jeju. Despite it all.

None of these decisions had anything to do with the end of the world, but you and Seungkwan made them, nonetheless.)

D-9 INT. A TENT – A TRAIN STATION SOMEWHERE BETWEEN SEOUL AND MOKPO – NIGHT The footage is grainy due to the lack of proper lighting; the camera shakes as Seungkwan seems to be trying to balance it on something. The tent is quite cramped; the inside is sparse, with only two sleeping bags and your knapsacks—Seungkwan’s with two camping pans attached with a carabiner.  The leather jacket you were wearing is now resting on one of the bags. You have both swapped your sturdy day pants for more comfortable, albeit worn, sweatpants. Out of context, it looks like a vlog filmed by two campers on a hike. The camera steadies as Seungkwan moves away. He moves to sit beside you. There is an easy intimacy as you thread your fingers together, almost mindlessly.                 SEUNGKWAN         BOO-log number 531. We passed by a sign that said Nonsan. That means we’re probably halfway there.                 YOU         We made progress better than expected, didn’t we? I estimated at least two weeks.                 SEUNGKWAN             (nodding, excited)         I thought the train tracks would have been ruined, since the stations are, but they’re surprisingly reliable.                 YOU         It’s true; of course there were times when we had to find our way around the tracks, or climb above anything that fell down over it, or go through some cornfields, but mostly, it seems we’ve been lucky.                 SEUNGKWAN         By the way—everyone, it looks like we’re in a tent in the middle of nowhere, doesn’t it? Don’t be fooled, we set this up in a convenience store.                 YOU             (laughing)         You ruined it! Now we can’t be funky backpackers with a tent on the train tracks.                 SEUNGKWAN             (playfully lecturing)         It’s good to be truthful, you know. What if kids watch this someday? We have to be good moral people.                 YOU             (with the remnants of a laugh)         Okay, okay. We set this up in the Seven Eleven inside one of the train stations. Abandoned, obviously. We made it in right before the dust storm hit.                 SEUNGKWAN         Another good news today is that we managed to barter something for food.                 YOU         Yeah. This one engineer or something—I think he’s a veteran? But we saw him tinkering on his porch and offered a trade, his corn for our cables, and now we have dinner.                 SEUNGKWAN             (joking)         It’s not jokbal, but it’ll do, I suppose.                 YOU             (groaning)         Oh my God, what I’d give for some jokbal right now. With bossam. And soju. SEUNGKWAN         I’ll be dreaming of that tonight.                 YOU         Anyway, everyone, we’ll end the log here, so we have enough batteries for a nice long BOO-log at Mokpo. Both you and Seungkwan wave your corn (dinner) at the camera. You reach forward, covering the lens with your palm. The clip ends.

D–20

Seungkwan walks around the house. He’s doing his last checks, checking between what’s in his bag and what’s in the rooms to parse if he’s missed anything—batteries, your wallets, matches, passports, birth certificates, first aid kit, water bottles, toothbrushes, all the canned food in the pantry, the sturdiest kitchen knife you both owned (wrapped in two layers of cloth), the Swiss knife he was gifted a few years back, flashlights, a whistle, and all the carabiners and hard cash you had were already packed.

He finds you in your shared bedroom. There are a bunch of wires there, evidently cut from various appliances. You’ve wrapped the cables as neatly as you could manage. On the bed, you’ve laid all your dry-fit shirts and the sturdiest pairs of pants you both have. Then, from the dresser, you’ve collected the most expensive jewelry the both of you own—well, all of them, but you separated the expensive ones in another pile. He points to the latter.

“What’s that for?”

“If cash fails, maybe gold won’t. I don’t know, just in case the currency collapses. But they’re worth bringing all the same.” Also, you hold out copies of both your health insurances. He opens his knapsack and quickly stuffs them in the same place as your other documents.

“Last resort kindling?” Seungkwan offers, showing the cluster of documents in his compartment. The remark draws a quick breath of a laugh from you.

“Probably.”

“How about the wires?”

“You never know when we’ll need some emergency engineer bullshit; plus, if it comes to it, the wires will probably be better barter material. Before you ask,” you hold up one hand, “I edited a zombie novel a few years back. But if that kid was pulling out of his ass, we’re fucked.”

Despite your disclaimer, the no-nonsense, matter-of-fact way you’re handling the situation makes something settle in him, as though all he needed was an anchor amid the chaos. He pulls you close, placing a kiss to your temple. The tension in your body melts as you press against him. For a moment, Seungkwan just holds you. A temporary anchor before you need to move.

Turning to him, you offer a quick peck to his lips before holding up his trusted camera bag, worn as it is. “Bring it,” you tell him firmly. “We need a little bit of happiness. Get all the SD cards you have, too. In case we just never leave Mokpo. It’s small enough to stuff in our pockets.”

Seungkwan can’t help it; he grabs your face and kisses you. The camera bag sits between you awkwardly, but he doesn’t care. He savors this, the familiar taste of it, the contours of your face that his hands have long since memorized. You pull away, but not before kissing his lips again, then his nose. He’ll never quite get used to the way you look at him, as though there is something new to love each time.

“We’re gonna be okay, my heart.”

D-4 EXT – A LONG STRETCH OF BEACH – MOKPO, SOUTH KOREA – SUNSET The camera captures a breathtaking sunset. The sky is a wash of oranges and pinks, the clouds purple yet lined in the light of the sun. Mokpo is on the southwest side of Korea; the view of the sunset is particularly beautiful, as the sun sinks down into the sea. There are faint silhouettes of islands both near and far from the shore. The waters are tranquil, and there are no sounds except for the steady wash of the waves on the shore.

The shot slowly pans to you. Your expression is tranquil, despite the dirt and tears across your clothes.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)             (soft, so soft you don’t hear)         Pretty.                 YOU             (clueless)         Hm?                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         Nothing. Can you see Jeju Island from here?

He already knows where it is.                 YOU             (laughing softly, a little sad)         To be honest, I don’t know which piece of land I’m seeing is Jeju. A finger appears at the edge of the screen.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         There, that’s Jeju. Right behind the blob that looks like a hat.                 YOU             (squinting)         Oh! Right, that’s what it looks like. Beat.                 YOU (CONT’D) The view is beautiful. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the sea. Seungkwan hums the opening to Tears of Mokpo. You don’t recognize it until he softly begins to sing the opening lyrics.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)             (singing)         사공의 뱃노래 가물거리면…                 YOU             (laughing outright)         That doesn’t have anything to do with Jeju! He sings louder just to spite you. You playfully roll your eyes. Bending down, you unlace your boots and take off your socks, sinking your bare feet into the sand with barely-concealed relish. Seungkwan stops singing as he knows what you’re about to do.                 SEUNGKWAN         Careful; don’t step on anything sharp. As you move forward, the camera follows you. It is revealed that the beach is not so picturesque. The sea seems to have dried up some, and even here, bits and bobs of life float on the surface and linger in the sand.

There are the usual culprits: plastic bags, empty cans of alcohol and soda, and snack wrappers. Yet visible also on the camera are the following: bullet shells, shrapnel, a chair leg, a ragged pillow, and a cracked desktop monitor. As all this is visible, the camera centers on you laughing, splashing in the saltwater and enjoying the breeze in your hair.                 YOU             (calling; audio faint)         Seungkwannie! Come here! A beat. The camera zooms in on your face.                 YOU         Kwan-ah, come on! Hurry up!                 SEUNGKWAN             (proximity makes his voice loud)         Okay! A rustle. The camera is laid down, cloth (Seungkwan’s jacket) obscuring part of the footage. After a nudge, the cloth disappears from frame. Another figure, barefoot, joins you.

D–119

Jeju has officially been declared abandoned, lost for some other country to use as farmland. The radio announced the treaty ratification today. Seungkwan is a spectre around the house, listless and heartbroken. 

Months ago, when the conflict began to escalate in earnest, he began whatever arrangements he could to ensure his family was safe, moving them as near to the farming areas as he could manage and encouraging them to share whatever techniques they knew could help former cities now learning how to farm. The news does not make the sharp pang of grief dull any less.

He is at the age when he is to receive a conscription notice; Korea has since shifted its system to split soldiers into those who will either fight on the front lines of the Resource Wars, or serve by tilling the land and ensuring that there is enough corn for the population, however dwindling. There is no guarantee on which one he is to get, even if he did register himself as head of household (and should hypothetically be assigned the latter), but he is due to receive news in a few months’ time.

The promise of the notice hangs over both your heads. In the mornings, you spend ten more minutes just looking at him, as though you were memorizing the shapes and contours of his features. At night, he curls into you more tightly than before; once you’d have complained that it was too hot, now, you simply wrap your arms around him and let him sink his face into your hair.

“Hey, Seungkwannie.”

“Mm?”

“Let’s go on a trip.” The hand mindlessly running through your hair falters. 

He pulls away, looking at you with a furrowed brow. You keep your head low, pressed against his chest. “What?”

“Let’s go south. Yeosu, Mokpo, whatever, just near the beach, as close as possible to Jeju. Just…just see it, even from afar.” At his silence, you barrel on. “If we walk enough, we can make it in two weeks—a week if we can hitch a ride with one of those crop trucks or something—and then just another two weeks back, if we don’t settle in Mokpo outright.” 

“Food—”

“I can pack us as much as I can. We’ll need to ration, and possibly trade, but we can do it. The treaty is in place, and it’s most dangerous up north right now. Going south isn’t as big of a risk, and the weather has been looking good lately.” Finally looking up, you cup his cheek, tracing the skin with your thumb. He presses his lips to your wrist.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, my heart. I just thought you might want to say goodbye.”

“I…” he falters. It’s tempting. Unbearably so, despite the nagging at the back of his head that it would be better to leave it at that, keep his memory limited to the days you spent there dodging dust storms and falling in love. He doesn’t know how much it’s changed. How much the ocean might have even dried up. He doesn’t know if he can stomach to see it. “Give me a few days to think about it?”

“Of course. All the time you need.”

D+29

Seungkwan’s life has been demarcated into two. Before, and after. He goes through the motions of the government-run fields: waking up, clocking in, eating breakfast, tilling the soil, weeding, lunch, the occasional drills in case they were still expected to fight, transporting corn from one warehouse to another, dinner, sleep. Repeat.

Not a lot of people are here; many prefer to till fields they own, or collectively own; for once, agrarian reform straightened itself out at the start of the Blight. Yet with the dwindling population—slowly withering family trees—those lands acquired by the government grew.

Sometimes, Seungkwan thinks of home. He was lucky enough that the head of the center, Seungcheol, was kind enough to register his name as part of the deployed cadets under his supervision, despite the incomplete paperwork he had when he stumbled into his field, frail and dehydrated from lack of food and water.

Home remains now only in his memory, and in every replay of the Christmases he captured on camera. The soil is more unforgiving than before; it distracts from the loneliness.

EXT. A SMALL FIELD, WEDDING VENUE – DAY The wedding is humbly decorated with dried corn leaves fashioned into flowers, as there are no real ones anymore (none within the budget, anyway). Guests came as they are, though everyone has made an effort to clean up more than usual. It is currently the reception, and the speakers are playing a quick beat. The guests are dancing, laughing, and cheering, though their movements are blurry and almost smeared onscreen (step-printing effect). In the middle of it, you stand, the only still figure in the frame. You’re smiling softly to someone behind the camera, very clearly in love. Cut to Seungkwan, in a similar position, the guests around him dancing as but blurs. He is wearing a similar expression. He begins to walk forward.

You meet in the middle, still the only clear figures on-camera, and begin to dance.  As though the dance were a spell, the surroundings cut to: INT. A MEDIUM-SIZED LIVING ROOM – NIGHT EXT. SEOUL STATION, IN RUINS – DAY INT. YOUR TENT (MAGICALLY ENLARGED) – NIGHT EXT. LONG STRETCH OF BEACH (UNPOLLUTED) – MOKPO – SUNSET Hold this image for a moment. The sea laps at your ankles. The bottom of both your garments brushes against the saltwater, but neither of you seem to notice. Both you and Seungkwan close the gap to meet in a tender kiss. Suddenly, cheers. You part, and are back to: EXT. A SMALL FIELD, WEDDING VENUE – DAY The newly-married couple smiles and waves. The bottoms of their garments are damp.

D+167

It seems surreal to have all the batteries he wants, and even a computer where he can replay all his footage—more than 4000 hours’ worth of it. It took a few months of work to earn enough credits and rank to access it, but Seungkwan pursued the goal with single-minded purpose. There is enough electricity in this center to run a few computers, and Seungkwan is its most regular customer, painstakingly going through each clip on the dozens of SD cards he has.

For footage so far back, from when you had just been married, there are parts where he no longer remembers what happened after the clips end. They remain in his memory as but colored ghosts, warm-tinged with nostalgia. Cabinets that would never be opened again, now filled, in his dreams, with infinities.

The house of his memories blurs with the house of his oneirism. In both, he subsists on sleep and daydreams. But memory will betray; it won’t tell him if the house he remembers has been altered by each remembrance. So he watches his videos. He walks through his house, now only alive in film and reconstructed by memory. He sees himself and he sees you, in all the different iterations you both were. Wonders if he could stitch both into narrative. Wonders if he could even bear to cut any scenes. He’s never thought about the violence of that act until now.

Inventories do not just catalogue possession; they also measure the potential of loss. It was a quote from one of your writing workshops, discussed over a late dinner. You could still afford some meat then; Seungkwan had saved just enough for a small slab of cured pork, which you would cut tiny pieces from for both of you to enjoy before bed.

He has five minutes left of his designated slot with the computer.

Seungkwan watches, and he catalogues.

D=0

Seungkwan only remembers in flashes—a gunshot. A scream. It’s only when he replays that moment in his mind that he realizes it was his voice. Barely a thud as your body is cushioned by the corn leaves. Dark red liquid, somehow both grainy and slippery on his hands as he drags you into the thick of the field, away from the path, trying desperately to stem the blood while minimizing your trail. Until finally, he collapses, feet unable to bring him a step further.

More flashes—your eyes, only ever kind. Even at your last moments. The way you hold his hand and place it over the pocket you keep his SD cards, as though reminding him one last time. The way your eyes search his face, first desperate, and then resigned. The way he leaned in when you opened your mouth, to hear your final words, only to feel the ghost of chapped lips brush against his ear. The gush of blood that dribbles past your mouth that tells him you’re gone.

(The Resource Wars felt like more a backdrop than anything else; you had come this far without any altercation. Yet even as you screamed that you were not thieves, just travellers, the gunshot rang. 

The cornfields weep with him as he leaves you behind, SD cards clutched in his bloody hand.)

D–4

TIME CUT TO: It is twilight, now. The camera is trained on the horizon. The sun has fully set, and night is beginning to settle in the sky. Only the barest hints of orange remain. The footage has already become slightly grainy due to the lighting. Neither you nor Seungkwan are on the camera. Instead, voices are heard while the darkness arrives. It is not evident whether the footage was taken accidentally, or on purpose.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)             (softly)         I’m glad we came. Really, even if we couldn’t get to Jeju. I’m glad. I’m glad it’s with you.                 YOU (O.S.)             (just as softly)         I’m glad too, my heart. You filmed the whole sunset, didn’t you? Start to finish?                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         Yeah. Yesterday and today. I have so much footage that I don’t know what to do with.

Breath.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S., CONT’D)         Actually, that goes for all the BOO-logs. Even the ones from high school and college.                 YOU (O.S.)             (surprised)         You never tried editing them?                  SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         I have, but what then? There are hardly any theaters now. Nowhere else to post. And electricity is expensive.                 YOU (O.S.)         Okay, but if we both die, what do you think’s gonna happen to this camera? Seungkwan is many things; a prideful badminton player (before the Wars stopped sports events), a videographer, casual vlogger, and a corn field worker. You are also many things; an editor (before your company closed from too little employees), author, copywriter, and occasional tiller.

Both of you still enjoy nurturing sparks of creativity when they come.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         Mm. someone picks it up and it gets immortalized in a post-war museum. And our videos will be a special feature.                 YOU (O.S.)         Oooh. And the war museum would be on a spaceship, with funky gravity and new plants and meat the astronauts domesticated from a different planet.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         And there’s a new jokbal. Call that out of this world delicious.                 YOU (O.S.)         Stop! Despite the terrible joke, you both laugh, then let the conversation drift into comfortable silence. The sun has fully set. Nothing much can be discerned visually from the footage.                 YOU (O.S., CONT’D)         Hey, Seungkwannie.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         Mm?                 YOU (O.S.)         If you had the chance, like computers and steady electricity, would you edit all the BOO-logs into a short film?                  SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)             (skeptical, but thinks about it seriously)         What would the plot even be? A married couple traveling to Mokpo, dodging dust storms and chasing each other through cornfields? Watching the stars at night?                 YOU (O.S.)             (earnest)         Yeah! Or, y’know, make it semi-autobiographic, like two lovers wanting to visit where they first had their honeymoon. Or maybe I’m sick and you want to take me to the sea one last time? The footage earlier could fit with that storyline.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         Don’t even say that!                 YOU (O.S.)             (laughing softly, apologetic)         Sorry, sorry. But if you do make a short film, I want to be the first to see it. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you work.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         What about you, then? Would you write a book about us?                 YOU (O.S.)         Oh, definitely. And you’d be the first to read it. The footage cuts.

D+182

Seungkwan replays the footage. Beside him, Vernon fiddles with a pen.

“What do you think about making this a short film?” Seungkwan asks. 

Vernon stops. 

Seungkwan may be their newest addition, but the rest of the crew has grown protective. He brings light to their conversations, effortless in his ability to entertain and bring laughter. Mingyu asks him of his favorite foods, especially the ones he misses from Jeju, even if recreating them is near impossible. Seungcheol reprimands anyone who tries to bully him into giving up his share of rations. Junhui has begun to joke more, noticing how Seungkwan seems to be particularly into his humor. 

Yet everyone recognizes the sadness that still clings to his heels.

Vernon looks, for a long moment, at the monitor, frozen with a picture of a smiling face he’s never known—never personally, only ever through the screen and Seungkwan’s stories, always shared in quiet whispers in the privacy of his room.

He knows, though. Knows that this person was real. They loved, and were loved. It speaks in how the camera follows whoever is in the frame. The cuts of certain clips, as though either the person behind the camera joined their partner or had a moment that could not be captured in film. Most of all, it was the way whoever was in the frame would, without fail, smile at the person behind it. 

“I think,” he replies, choosing his words deliberately, “that you are in a unique position to dictate how someone is to be remembered by those who never knew them. And…” he hesitates, wondering if two months of these quiet conversations is still too little to be so candid with his friend, especially when talking of loss.

So, so much loss.

Seungkwan answers that question for him. “It’s okay, Vernon-ah.”

“…Well, I just wanted to say that it’s a burden to bear, is all.”

EXT – A CORNFIELD UNDER THE STARS – NIGHTTIME The stars have emerged, visible in all their glory. After the start of the Blight, when the population began to dwindle, electricity and many other resources became scarce. Much of the light pollution that was once a problem has disappeared. Brilliant dots twinkle overhead. To you and Seungkwan, it could pass for the Milky Way. The POV seems to be at a low point; stalks of corn are visible at the edges of the frame. Yet the stars are bright, captured exceedingly well.

You’re softly speaking aloud Laura Gilpin’s The Two-Headed Calf. It was one of the poems you memorized in college, as a creative writing major. YOU (O.S.)             (as though from far away)         Tomorrow when the farm boys find this freak of nature, they will wrap his body in newspaper and carry him to the museum.

But tonight he is alive and in the north field with his mother. It is a perfect summer evening: the moon rising over the orchard, the wind in the grass. And as he stares into the sky, there are twice as many stars as usual. Long beat.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         Twice as many stars as usual…let’s look up together.                 YOU (O.S.)         I see the stars, my heart, but I’m tired…

A breath hangs in the air. Some rustle of cloth, as though someone had adjusted so you fit together. A soft sigh.                 YOU (O.S.) Good night, Seungkwannie.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         …Good night, darling. End.

note. are the screenplay bits from the short film? the raw sd card clips? his memories? distorted memories? guess we'll never know. nonlinear bc grief is nonlinear. pls tell me your thoughts (even/esp if u didn't get the story lol) take care of yourselves always <3 EDIT: here are annotations of this fic for anyone willing to indulge 1.1k of my meta

[woneuntonzz]

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ 𝐓𝐞𝐤 𝐈𝐭

band leader!wonbin x song writer!reader

warning/s: cussing

genre: songfic

word count: 6.7k words!!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ you just can't call a spade a spade. ⭑♪⊹ ࣪ ˖ —the debt unpaid; inspired by Cafuné's Tek It. ✩🎧ᝰ.ᐟ

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The bundles of pillows of gas, outlined with the color of the sky, had been your favorite subject in photography. It fascinated you how everything else seemed to remain in their respective placements —the sun, the stars, and the moon— everything, but the clouds. 

Though you could never say that you favored it more than the moon. 

It somehow made you feel puerile, how something so trivial as moon photographs saturating your gallery made you feel sick to the stomach. You swore that you felt icky having mostly those photographs filling your precious display.

But why then? —why are your eyes so drawn to its shine?

Maybe it is for the sole reason of the void that it fills, even more so when there are none of its little friends —the stars— to accompany it. You hated that, though you admit that the moon is humbler than the spiteful sun. At least the moon allows for you to admire it from afar and closer whilst the sun denies you from it as if it's too glorious for the eyes of man.

You didn't love the moon, but you were true to its beauty and it's granted privilege for it. People loved the moon and you just questioned it. Overlooking its scientific significance, you just thought it put the clouds to shame. A moment would come where the clouds would conceal the moon, but despite its efforts, the moon will always outshine them, even more so with its light outlining the clouds and not the color of the sky that surrounds it. The moon is selfishly beautiful —well to be fair, if you hadn't grown, you would've never realized that the clouds were never meant to be focal. 

The art of photo journaling has been your passion for as long as you can remember. From a very young memory, you were a self-proclaimed photographer who held back a sour face whenever you were asked to snap pictures for your aunts who needed a picture next to every foreign sight and object they saw.

You wished you could just take the photos with your own eyes for even with the newest DSLR —at that time— you would never be able to capture the feeling of which the true vision draws from. 

Even then you were satisfied with your work, having experienced competing in national journalism competitions from middle school till your senior year in highschool, performing exceptionally well in some seasons and satisfactory in some, overall you were content with what you have and have not achieved. 

You never aimed for your name to be displayed all over your school's walls or for it to be countlessly mentioned by any of your teacher's before actually doing their job. You just wanted to bring your visions to life.

These visions would soon take a full swing to a different direction at the very last day of vacation before starting college. 

The sky had just turned pink. You felt so lucky, so intrigued with the seamless transition that had just occurred, seamless but conspicuous. 

With your camera in hand, you captured the pink clouds and the birds that flew along with them, the scenery of the park was just pure pleasure for your eyes. 

You shifted from place to place to take picture after picture of all you found worth your camera's SD card. 

You were taking a picture of the clouds that formed a subtle shape of two hearts. It wasn't your first encounter with such enigmatic forms, but this one would stick out like a sore thumb in your gallery.

Because right below it was an unsuspecting boy —well, he appeared unsuspecting at the very least. You took a picture where he looked up at the heart-shaped clouds, only the back of his head would be visible. The next picture was of him looking right into the lenses. 

Startled, you'd move the camera away from your face and avert your attention from the boy.

The once muted ambience of your surroundings would suddenly make sounds that seemed louder than they're supposed to be. 

You wanted to look back, to look at him again. 

His smile, his eyes, it all aligned with the hue of the sky and the sweet, sweet pattern in the clouds. This was the sublime portraiture that led you to where you are now. 

You weren't a stranger to Wonbin's appeal. He had quite a line of girls and boys who were smitten over him —and for that, you didn't even think of staring at him for too long, fearing that you might find yourself daydreaming, hoping. You thought you had zero chances with him, because it's him.

He's undeniably handsome, unreal even. He got decent marks and left a good impression on his teachers when it came to oral performance. He was in a school band that mostly performed worship songs during their youth, but would eventually resort to the more popular chart songs, censoring any words when necessary. 

Many were fond of him and just as much were jealous. 

“Good-looking, talented, and smart? there must be a jerk in him.” —you've heard from one of the many low-lives in your class that sat at the back. 

Maybe it was true. It was quite an impossibility for him to just be that good. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“What do you think of me?”

“Perfect.” you spoke, nearly spewing it as a question. 

“I'm not.” you laughed at him for wearing such a bashful smile as he replied. “I really am not.”

After that day at the park where you had accidentally snapped a picture of him in the most beautiful scene you have ever captured, you were captured by his allure. 

The way his hair danced with the wind and the leaves of the maple trees, the sight was all too heavenly. You were overwhelmed with the feelings that rushed through your veins, you felt like you needed to let it all out, one way or another. 

When you got home, you sat on your bed with your laptop sitting on top of your thighs. You stared at the loading status of your exporting photos that you captured earlier that day and a few days prior. 

Seeing his photo was all it took for you to start jotting down words, expressing how spellbound you are towards his presence. 

You hummed the melody you heard earlier at the park as he looked at you. It was like the breeze was singing for the two of you, and the sounds of the leaves that fell together in a beat that followed your heart's.

You were certain it was only you who's melting over such a small matter. 

Regardless, you wrote something, a poem. But you like to refer to it as your first song, and it follows the tune of the air that whispered to you.

“I like you, Wonbin.” 

It was scary. To remain standing there for what felt like a day, you thought you'd go home with red eyes and bottled tears. 

His hand slowly reaching up to hold yours gave you the thrills.

“I like you too, Y/n.” 

It was unbelievable, even for your friends. It's Park Wonbin, the Park Wonbin that could never spare people a minute of his time for insignificant matters, being too absorbed with music and the idea of creating a masterpiece of his own. He liked you? 

“You… like me?” you pointed your shaky finger on yourself.

He gently rubbed at the skin on your hands. “No doubts, beautiful.”

You would subconsciously scoff at people who called you pretty because people would often use it to ask for favors. You wondered, was this him asking for a favor? a favor to use you? to only want you when he needed you?

You wrote about these thoughts later that night, and that would be your second song you called 'Blissful but Bittersweet'.

These feelings would be subsided on your very first date. He took you to the studio where he and his band practiced and recorded studio versions of their covers that they'd upload anywhere they could. 

You two were the only ones in the studio at that time. 

For a while, you were both hesitating on looking into each other's eyes, or starting a conversation. When his eyes caught the lights of the studio and glimmered like fairy light, you couldn't look away. You had the tendency to stare and hold at the things that seemed too good to be true.

Just being there with him was all too good to be true.

He stared back at you, his eyes explored your features, breaking you out of your trance. And there he asked you what you thought of him. 

The way he responded to your answer made you think that he knew, he knew the effect he had on everyone else. But you hoped that he saw you differently, different from everyone else that blushed and gushed over him.

“I think your photographs are as beautiful as you.” he spoke as he set up the amplifier for his guitar. “It's your trademark I think.”

You were flushed, but even more confused. “What do you mean?” 

“I would know when a photo was taken by you.” His voice was like a bass line to a soul song.

It was true. He'd been noticing you for a while. He was amazed with how great your works in photojournalism were, he admired your passion for photography, turning even the most tragic elements into such beautiful imagery. 

Those things however, weren't the only basis for his fascination. 

He saw how diligent you were, how you seemed so happy and content with your school life. If it seemed as if he paid no care for the people who whispered for days and days with no end because his eyes would be darted towards god-knows-what, his ears were open for them.

The things he's heard being said about you were endless and repetitive praise, and some backhanded 'worries' they had for you. 

“I don't think Y/n actually has a life outside of the competitions”

“I know right, it's kind of sad. Must be boring, and her friends are no different. Might as well just be government officials.”

“She should let loose a little, maybe then someone would show interest in her.” — and quiet laughter.

He couldn't suppress a scoff, and later a rumor would spark that Park Wonbin had a crush on campus journalist Y/n. 

You never knew about it since you were out of the country for nationals, and when he told you, you had raised eyebrows.

It was only now that he could admire the elegance of your features. Your eyes and their unique shape, the soft curve of your cheeks and its tint, and your velvet lips. 

He had never seen you under a different light before, what he was seeing now went beyond what he could imagine. 

You would write again after that date, and this time you had an actual melody to follow, it was of his guitar's. He played a 'scrap piece' —as he would call it— and asked you if it sounded alright. 

He felt all warm and fuzzy inside when you enthusiastically answered. “I loved it!”

Your full voice made his heart bounce in and out of his chest. He thought, if only, if only he could incorporate your sugared voice into his music. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Are these yours?” you rushed over to Wonbin to recover your personal journal.

When you'd get it from him, it was turned to a page where you had written about your shared first kiss. 

“Uh, yeah.” you gulped when you heard his chuckle.

“You're a wonderful writer too?” you looked up, expecting to see him standing and towering over your very existence.

But he was just as flushed as you were. “They're songs.”

The luminosity of his eyes lit up the room.

“Can you sing them for me?”

He listened to the melodies you have grasped out of pure memory, memories you've had with him.

It wouldn't take a while for him to figure out the meaning of the songs, and somehow, he was surprised to hear,

“They're all about you.”

The feelings that Wonbin had put you through —without his perception— were feelings you have never felt before in your life. Having control over these foreign feelings, somehow, meant taking on new mediums of expression for you. 

You would continue to write songs about your moments with him, all the little and more. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were both in your sophomore year in the same music and arts university. Your courses had apparent distinctions, but you two would share the same few classes together.

“I feel like I should be taking Composition instead of Media Arts.” you mumbled at the top of his head. 

The lecture hall was empty, you two took your time before leaving like everybody else. 

He had himself in between your arms and wrapped yours around him, like how dubiety wrapped around your brain and made it ache for that cause. 

“If you feel like it's the right thing, you definitely should, right? if Composition would help you to a point in your life where you're sound and happy, go for it.” he says, looking up at you with glistening eyes.

Wonbin was always the one to be in your arms and would often bury his face in the crook of your neck, taking in the whole of your warmth. You felt like his sanctuary, and likewise, he was yours.

Taking you to the studio became a routine for him, as a means of spending time with you. He would practice while you watched as his fingers moved rhythmically in a pace faster than your heartbeat. 

And it was with you that he'd first share his own solos and ask for your honest opinions. You were in awe every time. You had nothing but compliments to throw at him whenever he asked,

“Was it good?”

“It's incredible, Bin.” 

While he practiced, you wrote. 

It was a whole other experience to have him play for you as you observed and take in all of him, taking note of his delicate handling of his guitar, the sweat that would gradually build up and stick to his hair, and how he'd close his eyes, fully immersed in the music. 

Music resonates well with the two of you, it's like your own language, the one you shared and cherished by heart, the foundation of your relationship. 

“Let me see.” he'd say as he rests his chin atop of your head from behind you. 

You'd raise your journal to his sight, and you could feel his smile as he wrapped his arms around you.

“You make me feel so loved.” he whispers as he places a soft kiss on your jaw before once again burying his face in your neck. 

You'd always run your fingers through his hair, telling him that he makes you feel the same way, always. 

You loved Wonbin for everything he was —a musician, your best friend, your boyfriend. 

And for a long time, he'd been the Park Wonbin who owned a band, and owned your heart. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Going forward, you would change courses from Media Arts to Composition. You were back to square one. 

This is where your heart had led you to, where he had given you his full support and encouragement. 

Your schedules would crash because of the drastic shift, but still, you found ways to meet as much as you could. There were times where seeing each other wouldn't be possible, so you'd resort to calls instead. You two would talk to each other until you could hear his soft snores.

And when he'd wake up in the morning, he would apologize to you for falling asleep on you and you would always make sure to tell him that it's okay.

He would later take you to the studio again, but this time, there were others; his bandmates. 

It was your first time hanging around them, but you thought they were nice. The teasing was something you were never going to get used to, but Wonbin was relieved to have you by his side. 

He kept you close to him as he practiced, he took more breaks than retakes. He kept making mistakes at different points of their practice and would call for a break everytime —and each time, he went and sat next to you, laying his head on your shoulder as you delved your fingers in his hair. 

“Hey, Bin, you should really focus on your practice. This is for the finals —and I know you're tired, but your bandmates are tired too.” you whispered ever so softly into his ear.

It soothed him, and so he took a deep breath. “I will, starting this very minute.” He sits up and looks at you. He cups your face with his hands and leaves a kiss on your lips and on your forehead. “I just missed you so, so much.”

He goes back to practice, and he listens to you. He fixed himself up and focused. By the end of it they were able to finish practicing three songs.

He took you home to your dorm room, and asked if he could stay. Of course you could not reject him. You two would be all up on each other, all night.

Unfortunately for him, the next day won't be as pleasant as expected.

“Our bassist left.” He got up from your bed and stood near the edge, looking and scrolling on his phone. “That motherfucker.”

Your eyes widened. It wasn't that you've never heard him curse, it's his tone. It was frightening. You knew it wasn't for you —and hoped it would never be— but it made you think of the worse, what could be, and what would be.

“Where are we gonna find a fucking bassist? the competition is in three days.” he threw his head back as he ran his hand through his hair, clasping onto its ends out of disappointment and frustration. “That fucking asshole.” he muttured under his breath.

He turned to look at you, and he wished he shouldn't have. 

You had the face of an angel, and that angel, now, appears to be bewildered, petrified even. 

He sighed, bringing his eyes to the side. He stood there for a couple more seconds before he got his stuff, getting ready to leave.

“I'll go. I'm sorry Y/n, but I won't be around until I find a bassist that's competent.” he bluntly says before leaving, not shutting the door behind him —for he was afraid that if he did, he'd do it too hard and make you feel bad for it. 

You would go on for days without contact. You tried messaging him, but he left you on read. He would reply 16 hours later with: sorry y/n, we're really struggling here.

You stared at his message for hours. You didn't want to respond, so as to not further disturb him. After a few more hours, you'd receive a call from him.

“Bin?” you softly called for him as soon as you picked up.

“We found a bassist. We're practicing real hard since we really need to get it together. We're finished now, but we'll be back in the studio in a few hours. The bassist —she's great.” you nodded to yourself as you listened to him.

You didn't want to be that type of girlfriend, but you badly wanted to ask who this 'she' is. “Oh, who is she?”

“A freshman —so, how have you been?” Wonbin seemed to be speaking a little faster than normal.

You started to wonder whether he even truly wanted to talk to you in the first place. It took you a while to reply to him, you were once again stuck with such overwhelming feelings, having the need to jot them all down.

“Y/n?” 

“Bin—”

“You must be tired. Let's talk tomorrow, yeah? I'll call you when I wake up. Rest, beautiful.” 

Your eyes paced around everywhere. “I'm sorry Bin.”

“Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for. If anything, it's me who should be sorry.” he remained quiet for a while and you could slightly hear his breathing.

“Goodnight Bin. Please sleep well.” the hand that held his phone trembled slightly at the dim symphony of your voice. 

“Goodnight Y/n.” he weakly replied before letting you go and ending the call.

On your bed, you lie on your back, eyes wandering the ceiling as if there were more to the tiny cracks and the dormant light bulb. Unable to bring yourself to a slumber, you got up and went to your desk. 

You laid out your journal, opening to a fresh page. You let the tip of your pen hover over it for a few minutes, before you let it all go. 

We started off in such a nice place,

We were talking the same language.

A teardrop would make its way onto the paper, causing the ink of your pen to smudge.

You weren't meant to finish this song just yet.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was finally the day of the competition you've long awaited. You hurried to the front seats, excited to see him perform, to hear his fervent voice, excited to just be able to see him again.

When there were others performing onstage, you tried peeping at the back, or somewhere behind the stage where you'd spot him. You were never able to, not until they were up next. 

He saw you and waved. You waved back, hesitant as their new bassist appeared beside him. 

They looked… perfect.

You zoned out. Your head would start blocking off the music, and all you could hear was your weak heart. You felt conflicted, the first time it palpated like this, it was for good reason, but now, it seems to be the opposite. 

When it was their turn to perform, you watched as they exchanged looks. Their charisma shook your core, and suddenly, you hated yourself for not knowing how to play bass.

You watched, and Wonbin would lay his eyes on you as he sang —but it within a span of a few seconds he fixed his gaze on the bassist, as they once again gave each other looks that made you sink into your seat. 

After their performance, you would find yourself clapping, standing up like everyone else, the only difference being that you were crying. Wonbin saw, but he couldn't tell if they were tears of joy or something else. 

They would be announced champions by the end of the day, and you couldn't be more proud. Wonbin would find you in the crowd, smiling as he slightly waved the trophy in his hand. You smiled back, just happy with what he's achieved. But you couldn't help but notice that something in the air was changing.

Later that night, Wonbin took you with him to their celebratory dinner. He held your hand tight, caressing your skin with his thumb as you both entered the restaurant. 

His bandmates were already seated nicely and the only seats left were ones next to their drummer, and the other, next to the bassist. When they saw you, their bassist would move next to the drummer, and Wonbin would sit across from her, with you next to him.

You were happy that they were all happy, and while eating, you would get over your thoughts from earlier. 

Your smile would slowly dissipate into the unmindful air feeling Wonbin's grasp becoming looser and looser as time flew by.

You looked over to him, and you saw the sweetest and most seraphic smile you've ever seen him wear. It was just a shame that it was not because of you. 

You grew insecure in your seat, the space you occupied shrinked by the second as you watched how differently their eyes reacted to one another —how different it was compared to how he looked at you. 

“Bin, I need to go home.” you touched his shoulder to get his attention.

He quickly turned his head to look at you. “Oh, I'll take you home—”

“No.” You spoke a little louder than intended. “Sorry, no need. I'll get going now, I have things to finish.” 

You stood up, expecting him to grab your hand to stop you as you walked away towards the exit. But he didn't. 

Were you asking for too much now? or are you just not enough anymore? 

You took slow and miniscule steps, waiting for a taxi to pass by. Once it did, you got in, feeling so dejected that your voice cracked when you gave the taxi driver the address to your dorms. 

Maybe you were overthinking things. Maybe you're just not used to him being as smiley and as lively as he was around other girls that weren't you. It had been like that since the beginning of your relationship, and yet you felt as if you had no right to doubt him.

By the end of the day, you'd be back at your desk, tear-filled, feebly writing down,

You can't stand the thought,

Of a real beating heart you'd be holding...

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Y/n! we got a record deal!” 

The thrill, the excitement, it all rushed through Wonbin, in his blood. He had called you early in the morning after receiving a call from a recording label.

“That's great, Bin.” Wonbin's smile would die out with the tone of your voice.

“Hey, are you okay?” he suddenly thought about the previous night with you, two nights ago.

“Yeah. I've just been really busy. Congrats Bin!” he bit his bottom lip, staring into nothing feeling your frailty.

“I'm coming to visit you.” he says nonchalantly.

“You don't have to Bin, I'm really b—”

“I can help—”

“Wonbin.” —silence.

You never called him 'Wonbin' throughout the entirety of your relationship, even when the two of you would argue. It left a stinging pain in his heart. “Y/n.”

“I'm sorry Bin. I know you have your own stuff going on so would you please jus—”

“Was this about the other night?” despite your efforts to respond, not a single word came out of you. “Look, I don't even know why you left, why don't you communicate things with me anymore?”

Fear. You feared this tone of his that you never thought he'd take out on you. You feared the eyes you could not see, glaring at your phantom in his studio. You feared his heart, his heart that would no longer yearn for you even if you called for him. You feared losing him.

“Y/n, speak to me. Please.” urgency was apparent in his voice, but you could also hear his disappointment.

“How? Tell me how, Wonbin.” you would break as his name fell off your lips, your tears falling down to your blanket that reeks of his scent. “I don't fucking know how, okay?”

From this moment on, you were able to see just how flawed your relationship truly is. Behind all the affections, you two were just too different. Sometimes, different can be good —there's a thing they call 'opposites attract'— but sometimes, people don't need different. 

It was not that the two of you stray far from each other's passions, heck, it was your passion that brought the two of you together. But rather, it was your values that contrasted with each other. 

He thought you were just as infatuated as he was, all the while you were thinking that you were all he needed.

Yes, he was the most comfortable with you, but his happiness was not you. He felt relieved by your touch, your voice —but he would never admit that that is all it was for him, a sense of relief and nothing more. 

He was thankful for everything you've given him, all the comfort, the nagging for him to take care of himself, the photos you've taken of him and hung on your little cork board, and the songs. He was genuinely touched and couldn't believe that you could get any more incredible than you already were. 

Unfortunately, you thought more of him, memorizing every bit of him, his physique and his very psyche. 

You two would resolve your argument, temporarily. 

He would begin to visit you again regularly, and take you to their studio, a new one, one that would be in a bigger building. And just like that building, everything was different. 

Your whole life, you've learned to fight change, to adapt with ease, but this was one you did not want to adapt into. It was one you wanted to escape.

You missed the way his fingers would play with the shorter strands if your hair that rested at the sides of your head as he rests himself on you. You missed the warmth in his voice, and now it was all fading into nothing. That fire in your hearts that you lit up for each other, it was slowly dying out. 

It was painful to be aware when you were still so in love, when you still saw the same Wonbin that one fateful day at the park. 

You knew that he knew. During his visits to your dorm room, he'd often doze off, and would lazily leave sloppy kisses to your lips, that would slowly become light pecks on your cheek, and soon nothing. 

When he took you to his studio, he would be practicing, and she'd be there too. You would be in your own little corner, writing your songs. 

“Hi Y/n, what are you up to in there?” she would ask, peeking at your journal.

“Oh, I'm writing songs.” she was a nice person, but she was also the reason for the falling out of your relationship, it was crystal-clear.

“You should seriously consider showing some to the producers around here. I feel like they'd love your work.” as nice as she sounded, you felt sick in the stomach, just like how those stupid moon photographs made you feel.

She and Wonbin, they were both like the moon, just letting others take in all of their physiognomy, all of their beauty. They remain unmoved, as if they're the pillar to everybody's constancy. 

They fit each other. —you thought to yourself as you kept writing.

I never could rely on you,

And a few times your face came into view, 

Into view.

I'm not into you,

Into you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It's been a good while since you've cut ties with him. You found it amusing how surprised he was with how you responded to his notion.

“I don't think we should continue being together, Y/n.” he blinked a few times, not having the heart to look into your eyes like he used to anymore.

“Yeah, I know.” you were so blunt with everything that he couldn't believe that it was really you who was speaking to him. “I'll bring you the stuff you left at my dorm. I'll just leave it here.”

You were in their studio, where he had asked you to meet him.

“I could just get it myself—”

“I'll spare you the trouble Wonbin.” you were so cold, it sent shivers down his spine. You were no longer the intelligent and timid girl he knew. “It's great to know you've been feeling the same way all along, if not, I would've felt bad for ever doubting you.”

A single tear would escape his eye, and he'd wipe it away before you could see it. 

“Thank you for…” you fished for his gaze, and you would catch it like never before. “...everything.”

You went out of their studio and started making your way out of the building with your journal in hand. 

The journal. It was full of him. From polaroids and sketches, to the lyrics that brought you to where you are. 

You were glad he finally came to his senses, that he was the one to break it up. If he never did, it would've taken you ages to blurt it out, or maybe you never would've done it. 

As your feet followed the same path you took going in, you could feel the hot tears flowing continuously. The last you would see as you stepped out of the building was her. Worry was written all over her face as she called for you once, twice. You looked back at her for an agonizing and very few seconds before completely turning your back from her.

That day was excruciating for you. You could only imagine, he already had her to comfort him, and you? you were still in the same spot, pouring all of your feelings out into a song. 

After a few lengthy months of practicing with your guitar, you were able to make a full song.

You recorded it within the confines of your dorm room. You were again satisfied with your work. It was a simple, homey video. Your voice was as soft as the clouds, and your presence was like that of the sun, bright, shining against the woe of your heart.

You posted the video to YouTube, even providing them with the lyrics you've put your whole heart into in the description box. 

At first, you didn't really think you'd get as much as fifty views, three likes and maybe one petty dislike. Either way, you didn't really care. It was the least of your worries at the time. 

You were planning to move back to Media Arts, in spite of him. You moved courses because of him, and now you are moving back another step for it. 

Though, your plans would be halted when you were approached by a deceptive man —what made him deceptive? you may ask, well, you would've never thought that this man worked for the same recording label that your ex was in.

“What do you want?” you spat.

“Okay, miss. I'm Jung-Sung-Chan. I've been in the xxxx label for two years now. So, I saw your song—”

“And what about it?” your voice was stern, and it seemed as though it was atypical for him as it did not match your appearance at all.

“So, there's this band, don't know if you've heard of them—”

“Is it 'Everiizing'?” he was flabbergasted with how you just kept cutting him off when he was supposedly the one to be intimidating you.

“Uh, yeah.”

He would go on to explain how the band had been struggling to come up their next hit single and they needed it by the end of the month. You told him off by saying that you'd think about it, and think about it, you did. 

It was quite funny, Wonbin would be the one singing since he was the vocal of the band, and he would be singing a song that you wrote and composed about him and the fallout of your relationship.

But you also thought, maybe this was a start for your own career. Maybe after this, you'd be a well known song writer, credited in every hit song in the charts. 

You would call Sungchan back and tell him you've made up your mind.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

So I started to think 'bout the plans I made,

The debt unpaid.

And you just can't call a spade a spade.

Wonbin read through the lyrics of their supposed upcoming single. He couldn't help but feel… familiar. The style of writing, the choice of words, he feels like he'd seen it all before, and he'd felt it all once upon a time. 

“The writer is Y/s/n Y/n.” Wonbin's breath hitched, very subtly that he was the only one that heard. “I saw her on YouTube —that's where we discovered that song. She agreed to sell it to us.”

“The song is on YouTube?” Wonbin asked as he grabbed his phone from the table in front of him.

“Yeah, that's what I said.”

He searched for your name, and there it was. He hurriedly tapped on your video, and watched, and listened. 

You never changed in his eyes. You were still as mesmerizing as you were when he could still have you in his embrace, or when you'd massage his hair.

“So what do you think?” he ignored Sungchan and kept his eyes and ears on his phone, following every note and every strum. 

“Wonbin?” —for a minute, he thought it was you who called for his name, but then he looked up.

“Paige.” he responds to their bassist. 

“I listened to Y/n's song. It's really a masterpiece, I say we try recording it now.” Paige, with pure excitement, would cling onto Wonbin, and he would look at her the way you would want him to look at you.

Sungchan knew, because you had told him everything. It was weird to tell a stranger about these things, but if he was buying your song, he should at least know the story behind it, right?

That day, Wonbin would record his vocals for the song, and Sungchan would be there to monitor. Wonbin seemed so emotional. He must've realized what the lyrics truly meant, and it punched him right in his guts. 

This is all she's been feeling huh —he uttered in his mind as he fought back his sorrow.

Sungchan had spared you the details of everything that went down in the recording, and soon they would release their own version of the song, and it would be theirs.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“...we have 'Everiizing', to perform their new hit single, 'Tek It'!”

You were once again, at the same seat you'd always be when he performed, but this time, you were happy. It was your creation being recognized and loved by many. Its story will remain in your memories forever, but it will never cause resentment.

You couldn't help but smile and just enjoy the music. They were the same —if not better than before. Wonbin and Paige were truly a different story. They seem to be doing great. You had no idea if they actually got together, but you didn't care. 

There was a lingering feeling for sure, but it would fall weak knowing that you have a line of opportunities ahead of you, and so did Wonbin and his band.

After their performance he would go on to acknowledge your presence, giving you credit for writing and composing such a beautiful song, though of course, he would never say you were his ex and you wrote it about him.

You two would meet again backstage, for the first time in almost a year.

“Y/n.” you smiled, not for the same reason as you would with him, it was because he failed to have the same effect on you as he did before, and it brought your mind to peace.

“Wonbin.” he would smile back, but it was quite not like himself.

He was a lot more tentative. “I'm guessing you've been well.”

You nod at him and say, “I could say the same about you.”

“So, will you continue to work under xxxx?” he asked hesitantly.

“You know I would never do that even if things ended a little better.” he would drop his smile as he listened to you speak. “I'm moving to Sungchan's label. He's starting one of his own. Might consider being an artist myself, but for now I'll finish my studies.”

Wonbin was once again fascinated with your strong will, it was something he thought he could learn from you, but as soon as forever was promised, it would disintegrate right before your eyes. 

The promises of making songs together, singing them together, performing them with your souls intertwined. They were nothing but long gone.

Wonbin is the moon, and you're the sun. The two are never meant to meet, or to even be close to each other. Being opposites was never a problem, it was because you two had different understandings of what it meant for you to flourish and shine, what your purpose is in this world and how you would salvage it —it is the sad tale of the serene but incredibly fallible moon, and the ravishing sun, that's just as tainted.

And there would be no more eclipses to follow. 

I never thought we'd see it through.

So long nice to know you, I'll be moving on.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

happy hearts day <333

[donic01]

5 Reasons Why the Lenovo ThinkBook is Perfect for Professionals

In today’s business world, professionals need a reliable and versatile laptop to keep up with their demanding workloads. The Lenovo ThinkBook series offers a compelling option for those seeking a balance between performance, portability, and affordability. This blog post will explore five key reasons why the Lenovo ThinkBook is the perfect choice for professionals.

Understanding Your Needs

Before diving into the specifics of the ThinkBook, it’s crucial to understand your needs as a professional. Consider the following factors:

Your Profession: Are you a graphic designer, a data analyst, or a writer? Different professions have varying hardware and software requirements.

Portability vs. Performance: Do you need a lightweight laptop for frequent travel, or do you prioritize raw processing power for demanding tasks?

Budget: How much are you willing to invest in a new laptop?

Once you have a clear understanding of your needs, you can determine if the Lenovo ThinkBook aligns with your requirements.

5 Reasons Why the Lenovo ThinkBook is Perfect for Professionals

Military-Grade Durability and Security

Built to Last: The Lenovo ThinkBook is renowned for its exceptional build quality. It adheres to military-grade standards (MIL-STD-810G) to withstand shocks, spills, and extreme temperatures. This ensures your laptop can handle the wear and tear of everyday business use.

Enhanced Security Features: ThinkBook laptops come equipped with a number of security features to safeguard your data. These include a fingerprint reader for secure login, a Trusted Platform Module (TPM) for hardware-based encryption, and Lenovo Vantage software with security features like camera privacy guard.

Powerful Performance for Demanding Tasks

Latest Processors: ThinkBook laptops are equipped with the latest Intel Core or AMD Ryzen processors, delivering the processing power needed to handle demanding applications. Whether you’re editing complex spreadsheets, creating presentations, or running video editing software, the ThinkBook can handle it.

Fast Memory and Storage: ThinkBook laptops come with ample DDR4 memory to ensure smooth multitasking and fast program loading. Additionally, they offer a variety of storage options, including solid-state drives (SSDs) for lightning-fast boot times and application loading. Lightweight Design for Enhanced Portability

Thin and Light: ThinkBook laptops are known for their sleek and lightweight design. This makes them ideal for professionals who travel frequently for work or meetings. You can easily carry your ThinkBook in your backpack without feeling weighed down.

Long Battery Life: ThinkBook laptops boast impressive battery life, allowing you to work for extended periods without needing to search for a power outlet. This is a significant advantage for professionals who are constantly on the go. Stunning Visuals and Comfortable User Experience

High-Resolution Displays: ThinkBook laptops offer various options, including Full HD and QHD+ resolutions. This ensures crisp visuals and vibrant colors, making it ideal for tasks like presentations, video conferencing, and graphic design.

Ergonomic Keyboard and Precise Trackpad: ThinkBook laptops feature spill-resistant keyboards with ergonomic key layouts for comfortable typing. Additionally, the large and responsive trackpads provide smooth and accurate navigation. Seamless Connectivity and Expandability

Wide Range of Ports: ThinkBook laptops come equipped with a variety of ports, including USB-A, USB-C, HDMI, and an SD card reader. This allows you to connect to a wide range of peripherals, external displays, and storage devices.

Docking Stations: Certain ThinkBook models support optional docking stations, transforming your laptop into a full-fledged desktop workstation. This can be beneficial for professionals who require additional connectivity options or multiple monitors.

Read More- https://donicelectronics.com/5-reasons-why-the-lenovo-thinkbook-is-perfect-for-professionals/

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Asus ProArt P16 (H7606):A leading creator-class laptop with few flaws

Many were skeptical when the first creator-class laptops launched, including this writer. But the Asus ProArt P16 (starts at $1,699.99, $2,699.99 as tested) comes to the yard with a captivating 4K OLED display, powerful speakers, and a host of AI-assisted features designed to enhance security, video calls, and creative output. Plus, the virtual Asus DialPad enables finer edits and quicker access to shortcuts. Best of all, this ProArt P16 configuration satisfies that never-ending desire for excessive power, with an AMD Ryzen AI 9 HX 370 processor raring to go and an Nvidia GeForce RTX 4070 graphics chip that's just as game. This laptop can handle all your content creation needs, whether photo or video editing or graphic design—you could even score a movie on this thing. While it gets hot and loud when the workload gets heavy, the Asus ProArt P16 is an Editors' Choice-award-winning option for content creators and anyone looking for a high-end laptop that’s durable and powerful.Our specific ProArt P16 configuration is known as the H7606 model, which has a 2GHz AMD Ryzen AI 9 HX 370 processor with an AMD XDNA neural processor (NPU), 32GB of LPDDR5X memory, a 2TB M.2 NVMe PCIe 4.0 solid-state drive, an integrated AMD Radeon 890M processor, a discrete Nvidia GeForce RTX 4070 GPU with 8GB of GDDR6 VRAM, and, last, a 16-inch, 3,840-by-2,400 OLED touch screen. You can snag this P16 from Asus or Best Buy for $2,699.Asus also sells more-affordable configurations starting at $1,699.99 with the same CPU and RAM but instead packing a lower-power RTX 4060 and half as much SSD space as the above arrangement.Compared with other Asus notebook lines, the ProArt is somewhat understated. Instead of gentle concentric circles, gleaming finishes, or a mesmerizing light show, the ProArt P16 meets us with inky blackness. Save for a shiny silver logo next to equally glossy, raised lettering that spells out “Asus ProArt,” the rest of the laptop’s lid is blank obsidian. That’s not to say you won't find embellishments: Look closer at the logo, and you’ll see a cleverly carved "Pro" within the little emblem.That matte black finish comes from the company’s proprietary anodizing process, creating “a nano-microporous structure” that cuts down on reflections. That’s cool and all, but its damn-near smudge-proof surface is even cooler. Even my oily fingers left only a whisper of a print.The laptop’s interior reminds me of older Razer Blade laptops with chunky speakers sandwiching a full-size, membrane-style keyboard. Despite a massive touchpad with its curious wheel in the top-right corner (more on that later), you'll still find plenty of space to rest your palms. The power button sits above the F12 key, keeping its lonely vigil.This is the port lineup I expect to see on a creator laptop. Asus gives you two USB 3.2 Gen 2 Type-A ports, along with a USB 3.2 Gen 2 Type-C port, an HDMI 2.1 FRL port, an SD Express 7.0 card reader, a headset jack, and a proprietary DC-in port. The only thing missing is an Ethernet port, but that’s a minor quibble.Flip the laptop over, and you'll see that Asus is determined to ensure the components stay as cool as possible. The P16’s undercarriage is more vent than anything else, taking up about 65% of the plate. You'll find a pair of rubber feet and slits toward the front for added lift from your desk.Asus’ designers put a lot of thought into who would use this notebook. Despite its size, Asus is targeting on-the-go creatives, which is why the laptop has MIL-STD 810H-certified durability. That certification means the P16 can withstand extreme temperatures, shock, vibration, sand, dust, and humidity. And, of course, it can take a drop or two, within reason.

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Dynex DX-CR121 All-in-1 Memory Card Reader/Writer TESTED.

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Then you can restart your computer, and it will automatically download the SD card reader driver on your Windows 10 computer.

Next right-click on the SD card reader driver and select Uninstall device.

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In Device Manager window, you can expand Universal Serial Bus controllers category.Press Windows + R, type devmgmt.msc, press Enter to open Device Manager in Windows 10.STAFF BestReviews Memory card reader prices Low-end memory card readers for 5 to 10 typically accommodate one card format and often plug directly into USB 2.0 ports.

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Download SD card reader driver for Windows 10 in Device Manager Just like SSD drives, memory cards use solid state storage for rapid reading and writing of data. Windows 10 SD Card Reader Driver Download Guide Below is a detailed Windows 10 SD card reader driver download guide.

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One solution to fix this issue is to download and reinstall the SD card reader driver. Dual-Slot SD Card Reader/Writer - USB 3.0 with USB-C - SD 4.0, UHS II Product ID: 2SD4FCRU3C This portable USB 3.0 card reader gives you fast read and write access to two SD memory cards simultaneously, including SD (Secure Digital), SDHC (Secure Digital High Capacity) and SDXC (Secure Digital Extended Capacity) flash memory cards. Sometimes you may meet the error that the SD card reader is not detected by your computer and the SD card is not showing up in Windows 10. Amazons Choicefor sd card writer IOGEAR SD/MicroSD/MMC Card Reader/Writer, GFR204SD Green 4.5 out of 5 stars3,637 6.926. To recover data from SD card, manage or format SD card, MiniTool software offers easy free tools. This memory card reader should make it easy to view photos stored on an SD card with Lightning-compatible iPhones and iPads. Check price on Amazon 3 SD Card Reader, uni USB 3.0 to SD/Micro SD Card Adapter, Aluminum. Check price on Amazon 2 SmartQ C368 USB 3.0 SD Card Reader, Plug N Play, Apple and.

#SD MEMORY CARD READER AND WRITER INSTALL#

This post provides a Windows 10 SD card reader driver download and install guide to make your computer detect the SD card reader. High Speed Card Readers Preview Product 1 High Speed All-in-1 Memory Card Reader/Writer for SD/SDHC, Micro. If Windows 10 doesn’t recognize the SD card reader, it might be the SD card reader driver issue.

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SanDisk Extreme PRO UHS-II SD Reader / Writer SDDR-329 Memory Card Readers

[severehologramfest]

https://amzn.to/3xTHHBa

DriverGenius USB Type-C SD4.0 Compact Flash CF-1 Card Reader - 3-in-1 USB C to UHS II SD/SDXC/SDHC MicroSD Card Reader Adapter (5Gbps, Metal)

The DriverGenius 3 In 1 Multi Card Reader Writer (HB080) makes it easy to offload photos, video, and other files you’ve saved on your memory cards, providing fast access through USB 3.0 (also known as USB 3.1 Gen 1) with file transfer speeds up to 5Gbps. The reader increases workflow efficiency for creative professionals such as photographers and videographers. It helps to increase your productivity by saving you time when offloading raw images or editing video and photos, and backing up files via UHS-II SDXC/SDHC/Micro SD and CF.

[madmaryholiday]

i am slowly amassing a collection of adapters and data readers for outdated tech. this seems like it would be unnecessary and generally kind of silly, but i am determined to be able to read/play any card, disc, disk, or tape i might ever conceivably come across.

currently, i have a vhs/dvd player in my closet that is easily-accessible and in perfect working order, a walkman from the 80s that is also still in perfect working order, an usb cd-drive, and an “all-in-one” usb card reader/writer. granted, the last item doesn’t have a slot for those old-style memory cards for digital cameras they used between floppy discs and sd cards, but i think i can live without it, since the only thing you’d use it for is getting photos off of an old digital camera.

in my amazon cart right now, i have a micro-sd card with sd adapter, a micro-sd-to-pro-duo adapter, and a usb floppy disk drive.

i will probably bite the bullet and purchase them in the next week or two, despite not having any pressing need for them.

i will not regret this.

i must retain the ability to read/play as many different types of media as possible. O.o

[donic01]

5 Reasons Why the Lenovo ThinkBook is Perfect for Professionals

In today’s business world, professionals need a reliable and versatile laptop to keep up with their demanding workloads. The Lenovo ThinkBook series offers a compelling option for those seeking a balance between performance, portability, and affordability. This blog post will explore five key reasons why the Lenovo ThinkBook is the perfect choice for professionals.

Understanding Your Needs

Before diving into the specifics of the ThinkBook, it’s crucial to understand your needs as a professional. Consider the following factors:

Your Profession: Are you a graphic designer, a data analyst, or a writer? Different professions have varying hardware and software requirements.

Portability vs. Performance: Do you need a lightweight laptop for frequent travel, or do you prioritize raw processing power for demanding tasks?

Budget: How much are you willing to invest in a new laptop?

Once you have a clear understanding of your needs, you can determine if the Lenovo ThinkBook aligns with your requirements.

5 Reasons Why the Lenovo ThinkBook is Perfect for Professionals

Military-Grade Durability and Security

Built to Last: The Lenovo ThinkBook is renowned for its exceptional build quality. It adheres to military-grade standards (MIL-STD-810G) to withstand shocks, spills, and extreme temperatures. This ensures your laptop can handle the wear and tear of everyday business use.

Enhanced Security Features: ThinkBook laptops come equipped with a number of security features to safeguard your data. These include a fingerprint reader for secure login, a Trusted Platform Module (TPM) for hardware-based encryption, and Lenovo Vantage software with security features like camera privacy guard.

Powerful Performance for Demanding Tasks

Latest Processors: ThinkBook laptops are equipped with the latest Intel Core or AMD Ryzen processors, delivering the processing power needed to handle demanding applications. Whether you’re editing complex spreadsheets, creating presentations, or running video editing software, the ThinkBook can handle it.

Fast Memory and Storage: ThinkBook laptops come with ample DDR4 memory to ensure smooth multitasking and fast program loading. Additionally, they offer a variety of storage options, including solid-state drives (SSDs) for lightning-fast boot times and application loading. Lightweight Design for Enhanced Portability

Thin and Light: ThinkBook laptops are known for their sleek and lightweight design. This makes them ideal for professionals who travel frequently for work or meetings. You can easily carry your ThinkBook in your backpack without feeling weighed down.

Long Battery Life: ThinkBook laptops boast impressive battery life, allowing you to work for extended periods without needing to search for a power outlet. This is a significant advantage for professionals who are constantly on the go. Stunning Visuals and Comfortable User Experience

High-Resolution Displays: ThinkBook laptops offer various options, including Full HD and QHD+ resolutions. This ensures crisp visuals and vibrant colors, making it ideal for tasks like presentations, video conferencing, and graphic design.

Ergonomic Keyboard and Precise Trackpad: ThinkBook laptops feature spill-resistant keyboards with ergonomic key layouts for comfortable typing. Additionally, the large and responsive trackpads provide smooth and accurate navigation. Seamless Connectivity and Expandability

Wide Range of Ports: ThinkBook laptops come equipped with a variety of ports, including USB-A, USB-C, HDMI, and an SD card reader. This allows you to connect to a wide range of peripherals, external displays, and storage devices.

Docking Stations: Certain ThinkBook models support optional docking stations, transforming your laptop into a full-fledged desktop workstation. This can be beneficial for professionals who require additional connectivity options or multiple monitors.

READ MORE- https://donicelectronics.com/5-reasons-why-the-lenovo-thinkbook-is-perfect-for-professionals/

[shopsyplannet]

Sony MRW-S1 High Speed UHS-II USB 3.0 Memory Card Reader/Writer for SD Cards

Sony MRW-S1 High Speed UHS-II USB 3.0 Memory Card Reader/Writer for SD Cards

Price: (as of – Details) USB3.1 interface ? compatible with USB3.0/2.0Reads/Writes at higher speed than most PC SD portsUsable with micro SD cards (full size SD adapter not included)Indicator shows reader/writer activity

[nikki11488-blog]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Dynex DX-CR6N1 6-in-1 Memory Card Reader / Writer TESTED.

[laxzelbasic]

Sim card reader writer kit

Sim card reader writer kit update#

Sim card reader writer kit software#

Sim card reader writer kit code#

Sim card reader writer kit Pc#

Sim card reader writer kit free#

A project collaboration and documentation platform.Membership connects and supports the people and projects that shape our future and supports the learning initiatives for the next generation of makers.

Sim card reader writer kit free#

A free program that lights children’s creative fires and allows them to explore projects in areas such as arts & crafts, science & engineering, design, and technology.

Find enriching and interactive events, classes, workshops, and more.

Sim card reader writer kit software#

Maker Campus is a place to connect, learn, and make together. The SIM card reader SIMate is a SIM writer with operating software which allows to read, display, store and manage the data of your SIM card on your computer.

Maker-written books designed to inform and delight! Topics such as microcontrollers including Arduino and Raspberry Pi, Drones and 3D Printing, and more.

A smart collection of books, magazines, electronics kits, robots, microcontrollers, tools, supplies, and more curated by us, the people behind Make: and the Maker Faire. This product belongs to Home, and you can find similar products at All Categories, Cellphones & Telecommunications, Mobile Phone Parts, SIM Card & Tools, Sim Card Readers & Backup.

A celebration of the Maker Movement, a family-friendly showcase of invention and creativity that gathers together tech enthusiasts, crafters, educators across the globe.

Get a package of custom-made reusable SIM cloning cards with a special SIM Cloning Reader/Writer.

The premier publication of maker projects, skill-building tutorials, in-depth reviews, and inspirational stories, accessible by all ages and skill ranges. The cloned SIM will never connect to an operator’s network The purpose of this tool is to isolate a phone from its network for secure investigations.

Together they can be used to backup stored SIM card data, recover deleted SMS's and phone contacts, examine the last 10 phone numbers dialed, etc. Once the kit is assenbled, accompanying software can be used to read and write from the card. We don't guarantee that software/device will work or any other system - especially 64-bit systems, iMac, Linux. This is a SIM card reader/writer kit for experimentation and investigation of SIM & Smart cards.

Sim card reader writer kit Pc#

Information concerning hardware requiments:įor proper working with this device producer suggest PC computer with 32-bit Windows XP operating system. Leaving it enabled can occurs inproper operation of software / services and you will get communications errors like “Error 10060”. EC2WORLD USB Smart Card Reader, Rocketek Memory Card Reader with SDHC/SDXC/SD Card Reader & Micro SD Card Reader for SIM and MMC RS & 4.0 Compatible with Windows, Linux/Unix, MacOS X. Information concerning the interoperability of digital content:įor using a software or a piece of software that the manufacturer supplies with purchased hardware, in some cases it’s required that you disable your Firewall ( in software or router) and antivirus software.

Sim card reader writer kit update#

Before you attempt to make software update on the device or want to activate/use service, make sure that you have a sufficient link parameters. capacity of 1024 kb / s ( download) and 512 kb / s ( upload). The correct use of the purchased goods is required to have a stable internet connection with min. NOTE: You can use this reader/coopier as a clone device - you need only have to software SIM Coopier that it's free available over Internet and special card to which you can clone your original card dataįor this hardware we offer 12 months of warrantyĪdditional information about this product: Information concerning technical requiments : fuill option to read all details of SMS without using phone (edit/write/copy/backup).fuill option to read all details of phonebooks without using phone (edit/write/copy/backup).Suitable for those who have several SIM cards to backup and modify information and clone into the blank SIM card.

Sim card reader writer kit code#

100% completed scan (3B, 3F code are all readable), unlike other SIM cards which can only scan 80% of the original cards and affect parts of the original function Super SIM Card Reader Writer Cloner Edit Copy Backup USB Kit.

Be sure that your phone is unlocked, to be sure that SIM CARD will be accepted at your mobile phone. SIM MAX Card Reader/Writer it's high speed USB SIM Card reader that a allows you to read all contest of your SIM and make copy of it on HDD or chaneg detaisl directly on SIM withtou usign phone.

Support for NOKIA, SIEMENS, ALCATEL, PHILIPS, ERICSSON, MOTOROLA, MAXON, PANASONIC, MITSUBISHI, NEC, SAMSUNG etc.

Only in our company you will find USB version which is 1,5x faster and 2x smaller that other types of such devices ! Mostly used in big companies to personalzie all SIMCads for desired numbers withtou need to spend time to do this manully as well as by police in forensic area for investigations. SIM MAX Card Reader/Writer it's high speed USB SIM Card reader that a allows you to read all contest of your SIM and make copy of it on HDD or chaneg detaisl directly on SIM withtou usign phone.

[consultingsunsky]

Usb card reader writer

With its small form factor, it fits easily into your pocket, backpack, briefcase or laptop bag. The card reader gives you a portable solution for accessing a wide variety of memory cards anywhere you go. The three memory card slots for SD, microSD, and CompactFlash cards are all hot swappable, for additional flexbility. You can easily review files or back up and archive data from your smartphone, tablet, laptop or other USB Type-C enabled device. It gives you read and write access to virtually any format of flash media card from your digital cameras or video cameras, with support for SD, SDHC™ (Secure Digital High Capacity), SDXC™ (Secure Digital Extended Capacity), microSD and CompactFlash cards. This multi-card flash reader gives you the flexibility and convenience of accessing multiple types of memory cards. Supports a wide variety of flash media for flexible use The card reader is also backward compatible with USB 2.0, ensuring compatibility with older systems. It helps to increase your productivity by saving you time when offloading raw images or editing video and photos, and backing up files. The reader increases workflow efficiency for creative professionals such as photographers and videographers. The multi-card reader makes it easy to offload photos, video, and other files you’ve saved on your memory cards, providing fast access through USB 3.0 (also known as USB 3.1 Gen 1) with file transfer speeds up to 5Gbps. It supports SD™ (Secure Digital), microSD™, and CompactFlash® cards, and connects to the USB-C™ port on your tablet, smartphone, laptop or desktop computer.įast data transfers to increase workflow efficiency Ideal for creative professionals, this multi-card reader/writer saves you time and helps you work more efficiently when working with a wide variety of flash media, letting you quickly transfer and back-up files. Access data on a wide range of memory cards using your USB-C™ enabled mobile device or computer.