#Reverse Phone Lookup

[raymond-oglesby]

How to Find Out Who Is Calling You

The phone rings and it's a number you do not recognize. Or perhaps an unknown number shows up in your missed calls. You are curious but do not want to pick up or call back if it's a telemarketer or scammer.

RAYMOND OGLESBY @RaymondOglesby2June 11, 2024 This is for any browser on a desktop, laptop, or smartphone. Screenshots are from Google Chrome on Windows 10 The phone rings and it’s a number you do not recognize. Or perhaps an unknown number shows up in your missed calls. You are curious but do not want to pick up or call back if it’s a telemarketer or scammer. Instead of playing robocall…

[numbertrackerpro]

Phone Tracker by Number App to Locate Your Loved Ones

Mobile number tracker app is designed to swiftly and accurately determine the location of your loved ones via their mobile numbers, this app is designed for efficiency. Facilitating GPS location tracking within a secure, private network, it allows easy integration of an unlimited number of friends and family for tracking capabilities. The phone tracker by number application stands as a reliable and precise GPS tracking solution, allowing you to effortlessly locate your devices, as well as your family and friends.

[jitterbug401]

A Guide to VerifindPro's Reverse Phone Lookups - For Your Relationship

In the intricate tapestry of relationships, trust is the glue that holds everything together. Yet, the curious nature in all of us sometimes nudges us to seek reassurance. VerifindPro steps in as a discreet ally, offering an effective solution through its advanced reverse phone lookup and phone number search services. This comprehensive guide is here to shed light on the ins and outs of using VerifindPro, focusing on transparency, understanding, and the overall health of your relationships.

Recognizing the Signals:

1. Elevated Secrecy:

If your partner is acting extra secretive about their texts or calls, it's worth paying attention.

2. Phone Protection:

Keeping a tight grip on their phone, especially in shared spaces, could signal a need for more privacy.

3. Mobile Overuse:

An increase in smartphone activity, even during intimate moments, might be a notable shift.

4. Behavioral Changes:

Unexplained alterations in their routine or a reluctance to share daily experiences can raise concerns.

5. Defensiveness:

Defensive reactions when questioned about their phone activities could be a sign of something amiss.

Navigating VerifindPro's Reverse Phone Lookup:

VerifindPro steps up as a seamless, confidential, and reliable way to find the truth discreetly. Ever wondered, "Who's texting me?" VerifindPro provides accurate details about the caller - their first and last name, general location, mobile or landline status, and carrier specifics.

A Deeper Dive:

With a name in hand, VerifindPro opens the door for further exploration. Users can check social media profiles, workplace details, and residential information for a nuanced understanding.

Approaching the Conversation:

Discovering information through VerifindPro is a sensitive matter. When talking to your partner, emphasize trust and openness. Present VerifindPro's findings as a starting point for an honest conversation, giving your partner the chance to explain.

Moving Forward Together:

Whatever the outcome, treat the situation as a shared challenge. If VerifindPro reveals no wrongdoing, focus on rebuilding trust. VerifindPro goes beyond suspicion resolution; it acts as a tool to foster healthier relationships, promoting proactive measures for the future.

Addressing the Worst-Case Scenario:

If VerifindPro confirms infidelity, the decision to stay or leave is personal. Many couples navigate the complexities of rebuilding trust after cheating, while others part ways. VerifindPro empowers individuals with the information needed to prioritize happiness and loyalty in relationships.

In Conclusion:

VerifindPro's reverse phone lookup and phone number search redefine transparency in relationships. Beyond matters of the heart, these services offer tools to prioritize safety and well-being. Trust VerifindPro to guide you through the intricate dynamics of modern relationships with confidence and discretion.

[ipqualityscore]

Reverse Phone Number Lookup

Reverse phone number lookups provide important details about the user behind a phone number, such as who that person is and where they are located. A reverse phone lookup can enrich any phone number to assist with investigations, identity searches, and account verifications. Phone numbers can provide a lot of information about a person, such as their location, identity, country of origin, and much more. Each phone number also belongs to a phone carrier, such as Sprint, AT&T, Verizon, T-Mobile, etc. A free reverse phone number lookup can check any cell phone, landline, or VOIP phone number. Reverse number lookups can be important in verifying a user such as an account registration, online purchase, or to help verify a person online to avoid scams and fraud.

Visit Our Website

[reversephonesocialmedialooku]

Unveiling the Digital Footprint: How Reverse Phone Social Media Lookup Reveals Online Activity

Introduction

Have you ever wondered what information can be found about someone just by knowing their phone number? In this digital age, our online activity leaves behind a trail of data that can reveal a lot about us. With the help of reverse phone social media lookup tools, it is now possible to uncover a person's online presence and gain insights into their digital footprint.

The Power of Reverse Phone Social Media Lookup

Reverse phone social media lookup is a powerful tool that allows you to search for a person's social media profiles and online activity by simply entering their phone number. It utilizes the vast amount of data available on the internet to provide you with a comprehensive picture of an individual's online presence.

How Does It Work?

The process is simple. You enter the phone number into the reverse phone lookup tool, and it scours the internet for any associated social media profiles or online activity linked to that number. It then presents you with a detailed report that includes information such as:

Social media profiles: The tool can uncover accounts on platforms like Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and LinkedIn. This gives you a glimpse into the person's social circles, interests, and even potential connections.

Online activity: Reverse phone social media lookup can provide information about a person's online activity, including posts, comments, and interactions. This can give you valuable insights into their opinions, hobbies, and even potential red flags.

Contact information: In some cases, the tool can also provide additional contact information associated with the phone number, such as email addresses or other phone numbers.

The Benefits of Reverse Phone Social Media Lookup

Reverse phone social media lookup offers several benefits, both for personal and professional use:

Personal safety: By using this tool, you can verify the identity of someone you meet online or through a dating app. It helps you ensure that the person is who they claim to be and provides an extra layer of security.

Background checks: Employers can use reverse phone social media lookup to conduct background checks on potential employees. It allows them to gather information about a candidate's online presence and assess their suitability for a position.

Investigative purposes: Reverse phone social media lookup can be used for investigative purposes, such as identifying anonymous callers or tracking down individuals involved in cyberbullying or harassment.

Reconnecting with old contacts: If you have lost touch with someone but still have their phone number, reverse phone social media lookup can help you find their social media profiles and reconnect with them.

Conclusion

The digital footprint we leave behind has become an integral part of our lives. Reverse phone social media lookup tools give us the ability to unveil this digital footprint, providing valuable insights into a person's online activity. Whether it's for personal safety, professional purposes, or simply reconnecting with old friends, reverse phone social media lookup offers a powerful way to uncover the online presence of individuals. So next time you come across a phone number, remember that there is a whole world of information waiting to be discovered with a simple search.

[ralfmaximus]

Interesting scam email I received today. An invoice for crypto coin!

Noteables:

The email address is indeed mine, but not linked to PayPal

I do not currently use PayPal or have an account

I certainly do not use Coinbase or any crypto currency

The email itself was full of gibberish words, not any kind of template these things usually use

The "invoice" came as an attachment .webp file

There was no other attachment/malware payload

I certainly am not gonna call that 888 phone number to the PayPal "help desk" and doing a reverse lookup yields nothing. Pretty sure if I were to call that number it'd turn into an attempt to siphon money.

[fluffytimearts]

Is it considered impolite to not answer calls from unknown numbers? If so, what is the best way to handle this situation without causing offense to the caller?

No, it isn't impolite.

Let me tell you what my mama always tells me:

If it calls, and it's not a number you know or you're expecting to hear from, don't answer it.

You don't have to answer it—just let it ring. You don't know who this is, so why answer it?

Don't care 'bout the caller's feelings, 'cause for all you know, that could be a scammer or somethin'

Also a tip:

After the phone stops ringing and goes to voicemail, look up the number and its origins—just to make sure.

You can do this through Google or on a website we sometimes use.

[unhinged-summer-fun]

common grounds (oshamir) - chapter 6

Pairing: Osha Aniseya x Qimir "The Stranger" Warnings lol: blood and violence <3

A/N: Dividers by @firefly-graphics

series masterlist

chapter 6: the masquerade

Was going through her sister’s phone unethical? Sure. Was this whole thing a huge fucking risk she shouldn’t be taking? Certainly. Was she doing it anyway?

Hell, yes, she was.

After going their separate ways, Osha turned over the half-promise she’d given the stranger two days ago. 

I’ll think about it.

It was a curse. Here, in the unforgiving clarity of Wednesday, she could think about nothing else. Training with someone who saw potential and value in her sounded better than heaven.

But he’d left her with no way to give him her answer. He told her he couldn’t risk stopping by the Temple as often as he had been. I am banned, you know.

That was how she justified this insanity. I have no way of getting through to him like normal, and Mae was the only person who regularly met with him. She’s the best bet for finding him. And besides, she’s been lying to me for two years; I deserve to be a little ethically questionable.

Even still, the air was thick with tension—but that could’ve just been steam from the shower.

None of the contacts she scrolled through looked like they fit the stranger. Would she even save his number in her phone? She checked the text threads next, her eyes entirely focused on the unsaved numbers. Perhaps resignation had her gliding past the threads with Sol, and the multiple group chats Mae was a part of—places where Osha didn’t belong.

She must have deleted his shit the second she cut ties with him.

Osha bit down hard on her lower lip to bury her frustration. Where else, where else…

NYAAAAA!

“Fucksake, Pip, don’t be a fucking narc,” she whispered, removing the kitten from the room and resuming her shady behavior.

Mae dropped a bottle in the shower, nearly sending Osha jumping out of the window in fright. It was a miracle she stayed quiet. She refocused, ignoring the slight tremble of her fingers. 

Oh shit, why didn’t she check there first?

She found the list of blocked numbers in Mae’s call records and, instead of screenshotting it and sending it to herself, took a picture of the screen with her phone. It was old school, but it left no trace.

One of these better be him.

Mae shut off the shower, and Osha quickly put her phone back where it had been and walked out of the room without looking back. She was jumpy through dinner, but since she and Mae still weren’t talking, she didn’t have to explain herself.

Afterward, she retreated to her room and performed a round of isometric poses to steady her nerves. It helped soothe the persistent ache in her leg immensely. The pleasant burn in her calf licked flames across where her ligaments usually felt brittle and iced over. Doing the exercises before bed was a double-edged sword: on one hand, she’d be warm and loose all night; on the other… it made her think of him.

The dreams left her feeling hotter than the exercises did.

What was it Mae said? You’re playing with fire? It certainly felt like it—but in this weather, she didn’t mind a bit of heat.

To temper her obsession a little, she gave herself only ten minutes to research each phone number from the photo. She quickly ruled out telemarketers, spam numbers, and various persons who wanted to contact Mae about her car’s extended warranty.

The last number on her list felt… different. It brought up zero results online, not even on a reverse number lookup. She’d been about to type it into her phone to send a probing text, but her ten minutes were up. She couldn’t get in over her head, lest the stranger consume too much of her life before she knew his name.

And what if this wasn’t even his number? She didn’t want to go to sleep disappointed if the gamble didn’t pan out. She saved the number in her phone as ? and tried not to think about it.

Everything seemed to have lost its shine on her next shift at the cafe. The coffee smelled stale, and she could not ignore her sticky hands like she used to. Every painful hour spent on her feet felt like an eternity. She needed something new.

She’d needed a lot of something new for a while now.

The silence between her and Mae continued at home. The next time family dinner rolled around, she excused herself. She only saw Sol and Mae at the Temple.

Even the classes Sol led felt off. Try as she might to put in maximum effort, she’d grown out of Sol’s tentative instruction. Her jabs landed harder on the heavy bags, some sounding like thunderclaps that split the empty air. Her legs itched to kick and thrash beneath her despite the backlash it would yield in the gym.

She even tried a few kicks on the bag in the apartment gym, which saw more of her the following week than in the last six months. What it didn’t see was the stranger.

The stranger had her fucked up. Big time.

She couldn’t rely on luck or coincidence when she wanted to see him anymore. Next time she got lucky, she promised herself, she would get his damn number at the very least.

“This is a shit idea,” Osha muttered to herself as she walked down the street. “You’re fucking nuts, Osha.”

She’d been so focused on watching out for black ice on the sidewalk that she didn’t see that the Unknown Planet neons were all off until she’d opened the front door halfway, finding nothing but pitch-black silence within.

Every light was off, save for one at the far wall from the door. Osha stepped back a little, letting the door fall shut. The operation hours stared back at her: moonrise to sunrise.

Under the perpetually overcast sky of winter, she couldn’t tell, but she was pretty sure it was a new moon. You can’t have a moonrise with no moon, she reasoned.

But then, why was the door still open?

Osha retrieved her can of bear spray from her backpack and flicked off the safety with her thumb. She entered the empty bar quietly, on cat-light feet. When the door closed behind her, the cacophony of the city changed to a stark, screeching silence. She didn’t dare move a muscle.

Her eyes acclimated to the darkness, her ears to the silence. Very faintly, she made out the sounds of raised voices, cheers, and jeers. She stayed alert as she crept around tables crowned with upturned chairs. She stopped to listen again when she reached the singular lit sconce at the end of the cavernous bar.

The noise had grown louder, but Osha could still hear the familiar ding-ding! of a match bell. Was there a boxing gym upstairs? Nobody at the Temple cheered that loud at the events hosted there.

A set of stairs she hadn’t seen a week ago led up to a steel door on a small landing. A tattooed and bored bouncer wasn’t looking down the staircase at her; instead, he was peering through the small window in the door, looking in on whatever was happening inside.

Osha pulled back into the darkness. What was she doing? She was in an unfamiliar area of the city, chasing down hope of seeing a guy whose name she didn’t know, and she had no way of knowing where her damned curiosity would take her. She thumbed off the safety on her bear spray but kept the tube tucked in her sleeve just in case.

The bouncer frowned as she walked up the stairs. Up close, she could see two matching cauliflower ears, a split lip, and neck tattoos—and explicit confirmation that he was built like a brick shithouse. Osha met his eyes anyway, saying nothing.

“You’re coming in pretty late, miss. Half the fights are already done.” His voice was as gravelly and deep as she imagined, but the politeness took her a little off guard.

She tried channeling Mae as she told a small lie. “I was told the wrong time.”

The bouncer looked her over with a more critical eye, grunting. “Well. Hope whoever told you gets their shit rocked tonight.”

He opened the door for her, and she was instantly hit with a wall of noise. Hot air, humid from effort and shouting, hit her next, followed by the scent of sweat—and a little bit of blood. She tugged her hood over her head as she walked in, embracing a bit of stifling heat in exchange for a concealed appearance. It was doubtful anybody here would recognize her, though.

Though the area was centrally lit to highlight the festivities, she could tell this wasn’t a boxing gym—a fighting gym, but not for any discipline she knew. What she thought were people standing on the wall turned out to be body-opponent bags lined up with military precision. All the equipment was set with evident respect and intentionality, not a thing out of place as far as she could tell.

And in the center of the room stood a cage.

She’d done some research into what he’d been talking about. She knew most MMA fights took place in a fenced-in open-air ring, but those rings never had a lid. The cage walls were pretty high, about twice the height of the average man. It seemed less like a fighting ring for humans and more like an inhumane, fucked-up snow globe full of violence.

Surrounding it was a crowd of around seventy-five people, bunched so close it almost seemed they were part of the platform. Three sets of bleachers held the rest of the observers, and a half-dozen more leaned on the rail of a balcony overlooking all at one end of the cavernous space.

Inside the cage, two men fought with wicked-looking spears—halberds, if she remembered correctly. The crack! of the shafts connecting jarred her from her drifting fugue, and Osha approached the crowd so she wouldn’t be seen as an outsider and garner unwanted attention.

Was this where the stranger trained and fought? It had to be—one of the fighters slashed the other across the chest in a small spray of blood. Instead of crying out or screaming, the injured competitor groaned in frustration over the sound of mixed cheering and grumbling. It was the single most confusing reaction to violence she’d ever seen.

She got closer despite her self-preservation screaming otherwise. The heady scent of spilled blood hung in the air like incense, and this brutal, lawless place suddenly felt more sacredly profane than anywhere else she’d ever been. This was no church or temple, but it was powerfully holy nonetheless. 

Osha found a place for herself in the stands.

As the previous fighters left the cage and melted away into the locker rooms, two more took their place. The announcer, a tall, pale man with spindly old-man arms, called their names like a pro wrestling emcee. Some matches had both fighters wielding weapons; others only had one weapon thrown in the middle to be fought over for advantage. Very few matches were unarmed, and when they were, it was indescribably brutal to see. The rules of engagement became clear in one of those bare-knuckle fights:

First blood wins the bout but doesn’t stop it—only the timer, submission, or unconsciousness did. Only one submission happened during the night, and when it had, the crowd was in an uproar, near-humiliating the poor soul who didn’t want his shoulder dislocated.

It seemed that for legal purposes, some holds were barred here.

She traded off between watching the fight and watching the audience, and she couldn’t tell who was more bloodthirsty.

After about an hour of fights, some unspoken signal rippled through the crowd. All at once, a hush fell over the entire space, reverent as a moment of benediction.

“For our final match,” the announcer called, “we have moved away from spears and swords to return to Pure! NHB! Fighting!” The crowd joined in his excitement, rattling the old aluminum seats beneath her. A quick glance at the balcony showed it empty. 

“—I’ve got eighty on White-Top tonight.”

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Smiley can’t win every time.”

Osha listened in on the conversation beside her, keeping her eyes on the announcer grandstanding at the center of the ring. He vamped while two expedient workers squeegeed off the blood from the floor mat.

“If you’re still betting on that, you’re welcome to lose your money. The thing place worth placing bets on is in the inner-ring particulars.”

“Like what?”

“—bring you eight of the finest fighters this gym has to offer! In one corner, the rookie in yellow—”

“—Who goes down first, who does Smiley take down first—”

“The Dizzykid!”

“—and how long it’ll take to put ‘em down.”

Mild applause started as a shirtless man bounced into the ring. He did a hopping lap before settling against one of the corners. Rookie confidence, Osha’s fighting mind said. The yellow balaclava he wore looked fucking nasty, half stained with old blood. The two gamblers beside her spoke in unison.

“He’s going down first.”

She probably shouldn’t have laughed. She’d done her best not to draw attention to herself for the last hour of fights, but at the unanimous and bored condemnation of the Dizzykid, she couldn’t help herself. Luckily, the gamblers didn’t seem to hear it; even if they did, they didn’t care.

The announcer spoke through the rest of the introductions, men and women fighting in one bout together. Most of the contenders were fresh to this competition, but many bore scars that must have come from previous fights like the ones she saw before.

They all had ridiculous names, too: Dizzykid, White-Top, and a handful of others she didn’t care remembering.

The final two were introduced as repeat champions from the month before. The penultimate fighter, who wore a purple hood, was called Daybreak. She looked well-sunken into her role in the ring, all quiet confidence and restrained power.

“Daybreak was one of our two-left-standing last month and will get to defend her name and title just like her final counterpart: your nine-month reigning champion here to make it ten, the undefeated, the terrifying, SMILEY!”

The eighth fighter walked into the cage, and it instantly felt like she’d gone into freefall. Distantly, as if underwater, she could hear the crowd going wild for him. The seven fighters in the ring were already honed to precision, each beautiful and strong, but this one was heart-stopping. She clung to one solid second of denial before accepting the truth of who those huge, beefy biceps belonged to—

That was her stranger in the mask.

He wore a black balaclava. Stitched in silver to make a horrifying toothy smile, Smiley’s moniker was straightforward.

God, she hoped Smiley wasn’t his real name.

“Welcome, gentlemen—welcome, ladies.” The announcer addressed them directly, shifting from entertainer to referee. Osha did not need to strain to hear him speak because the room had gone quiet as a crypt in respect and anticipation.

The rules were simple: 30 minutes on the clock, eliminations by knockout, submission, or heavy injury.

“When you hear this whistle—” he blew a whistle four times.  “You will grab the cage with both hands and stand still until we drag out the fallen. When you hear this bell—” Ding! “The fight resumes. If you make it to the final two, congrats. If you don’t, it’s not my problem. Now: Fighters!” He blew his whistle four times.

Sixteen hands found the fence.

The announcer left the ring.

The crowd’s excitement built.

And when the bell went off—

Chaos.

Four of the fresh fighters descended on the stranger, hunting the biggest game in the cage. Osha watched in awe as he leaped straight into the air and grabbed the top of the cage. Two of the fighters whiffed their punches beneath him, and he came down right on top of them.

There were probably other things happening in the cage, but she could only watch him.

Brash and eager, the Dizzykid went down first, knocked out by the kick to the face the stranger gave him. White-Top went down next. One of the gamblers beside her groaned. Osha grinned.

The stranger was a blur in the cage, all his punches and kicks coming too fast for her to track at times. When he paused, facing away from her, her breath stuck in her throat at the sight of the thick, purple-white scar tissue slicing across his back. It made more sense now: why he was so dedicated to injury recovery and proper form.

Wouldn’t you, if you had your back broken in four places?

Her chance at melancholic reverie passed as her stranger continued to put down his remaining opponents. The other two had gone after Daybreak—if she went down, they might make it to the cage next month.

The bubbling energy of the crowd was infectious, and Osha gave in to the temptation to get a little reckless, joining the cheers. “Let’s go, Smiley! Put ‘em the fuck down!”

The stranger froze mid-swing.

Fortunately for him, the ref blew his whistle four times right then, and the fight paused.

Unfortunately for her, the stranger stalked to the closest fence near Osha. He held onto it but pressed closer, forehead against the chain links. He’s looking for me. The other fighters faced inward, but not him, readying themselves for the fight ahead.

His eyes blazed with heat as he scanned the crowd. He was like a rabid animal, an overheated gun, a bloody, jagged edge digging deep wherever he wanted to cut. When he found her, she felt it in her bones. She raised a hand and gave a cheeky wave, smiling.

He tilted his head to the side before sticking his fingers through the fence, waving as much as possible.

The body haulers left the ring.

The cage door closed behind them.

The stranger was still not looking away—

Ding!

The stranger took less than fifteen seconds to put down the remaining rookies, leaving him and Daybreak standing. The crowd rippled with unease. Even Daybreak seemed baffled, staggering a few steps back from the sudden total violence.

The stranger returned to where he’d been standing fifteen seconds before, pressing his face fully against the fence like Osha was nothing but inches away from him.

The crowd around her was stunned. “How’d he do that so fast?”

“Smiley is just playing with his food whenever the fights go longer than five minutes, isn’t he?”

“I think his first fight lasted eight.”

“How long was this? I can’t see the—”

“Three minutes?! What the—”

“Five takedowns tonight? Daybreak looks like she just shit her trunks.”

“Nah, Smiley respects her too much to—”

“I don’t think Smiley even looked her way tonight.”

Osha could feel eyes on her, but she didn’t look at them. She was still staring at the stranger. As the last bodies were dragged out of the cage, he drifted backward to the center for the results. After they were announced, he said something to the emcee, who nodded but didn’t seem surprised.

Daybreak and Smiley disappeared when they left the cage, and the crowd dispersed to mingle or otherwise leave. To avoid the curious stares, Osha found a dark corner to stand in. She’d become damn near nose-blind to the scent of blood, but the sight of it being squeegeed off the mats was still slightly morbid.

Someone approached her hiding spot.

“Are you Osha?”

It was the announcer. This close, he loomed—even taller than the stranger. Only then did she remember the bear spray in her sleeve.

“Who’s asking?”

“You can call me Mr. Wise. Smiley asked for you.” She could see the glint in his eyes. He was dangerous but in a different way than her stranger. “Will you come with me?”

Alarm bells rang like hell in her head, but she chose to dance along to the tune. “Lead the way.”

Mr. Wise led her to a small door near where she’d come in; stairs led to the level above and the bar below. It smelled more like cigarettes than blood in here. “Just up there. The black door at the end.” Then he left her alone.

At the end of the long, twisting flight of stairs, Osha found... dressing rooms? The landing she stood on was connected to a hall of doors, as well as an open archway to access the balcony from before. The doors she passed matched the balaclavas of the cage fighters: yellow, white, blue… and black at the end of the hall.

The first six doors were open and empty, but the black and purple doors for Smiley and Daybreak were closed. The second she stood before the black door, it swung inward, and there he was.

He’d taken off the mask. His hair was damp from the shower he must have taken, and some of it was twisted back out of his face with little fasteners, just like the night she met him. The body heat radiating off of him was felt even standing out there in the hall. It’d been six days since she last saw him, and the bright smile he gave her had her insides scrambling around like a game of musical chairs. Six days, and he still looked just as good as he did in her memory.

“Osha.”

His eyes burned with a fire she knew well—the last time she felt it, she’d been given a great shiny trophy and belt. Her stranger’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, and she spotted the darkening bruise forming on his jaw. The cut on his cheek from several days ago had healed, and the bruise around it had faded from a red-purple to a pale yellow-green. One bruise out, one bruise in. That was the price of fighting.

“Tell me your name isn’t really Smiley,” Osha blurted out.

His smile widened. “I’m only Smiley sometimes. Come in; I was doing cooldown.”

He opened the door wider for her to come in. His dressing room was sparse but not gross like the others she’d seen in the hall. After all, this room had been solely his for the last ten months. She spotted a few things she recognized on the small table: the black hoodie, backpack, and glasses. Hanging off two small clips was the mask he’d worn to fight, dripping wet.

She approached it curiously. “It’s a little freaky, isn’t it?” she said over her shoulder.

“I didn’t choose it.”

She turned to look at him. He was in a pair of low-hanging sweatpants, barefoot. Red blotches bloomed across his body, lucky shots while he made felling blows. He was holding his hands over his head, stretching his biceps, triceps, and other muscle groups that looked too good for her to think straight. He stood very still for her while she looked at him, and a little zing of pride and power zipped down her spine.

“But… I have to win it again every time I wear it.”

She didn’t know what to say when she met his eyes again, her gaze snapping up from where it had drifted to the waistband of his sweats. He was smirking a little. Caught.

He moved them away from the potentially awkward silence by sitting on a yoga mat and resuming his cool-down stretches. She took a seat on the only chair in the room.

“How’d you hear about the fights?” he asked, falling into a deep stretch. His flexibility shouldn’t have set her heart to stutter, but she’d never seen a man go so deep in her life. The scars on his back stood out in sharp relief from this angle, and this close, she could see that they were a mix of traumas: surgery and injury twisted over themselves in a snarling knot with no end.

It’s what her ankle looked like.

“I, uh, didn’t,” she said after a few seconds of silence. He turned his head to peek an eye at her. Go on. “I didn’t even know there was a gym. I just wanted to go to the bar, but the lights were off.”

“And you just went in?”

“The door was open. And…” She pulled the bear spray out of her sleeve and showed it to him before putting it in her bag. “I wasn’t without protection.”

“Smart girl.”

She nearly choked on air but quickly recovered. When her bag was zipped, she crossed her legs and cleared her throat. “You don’t live in the city this long and feel safe without a can of bear spray,” she said.

“You could carry an actual weapon.”

“I’d prefer not to.”

“Why?”

“I’d probably hurt myself before I hurt anybody else.”

He released the pose and adjusted his grip to stretch his feet and ankles. She recognized the different stretch combinations he was doing—she did them every night before bed. Her mind threatened to teeter into that can of worms, but he pulled her out of it.

“Don’t count yourself out, Osha. What’d I tell you? You’re a lion.” When he gave a breathy laugh and showed her his languid smile, she recognized more than the exercises—she saw more of herself in him than anticipated. His goofy grin wasn’t just part of a conjured persona. This was how he truly smiled when he hit that fighter’s high. It was how she smiled.

“I didn’t mean to distract you earlier.”

He laughed at the half-apology, pulling his feet in for a groin stretch. He tugged his shorts up his thighs for better flexibility, and he watched her reaction from the corner of his eye. His expression said, now, who’s distracted?

“You didn’t distract me,” he said, giving her a break and looking down. You surprised me, sure. I thought I got my bell rung and was hearing what I wanted.” He leaned into the stretch, groaning softly at the deeper burn. “I was glad to see you,” he said tightly. She wondered how much of it was from muscle strain and how much was from emotion.

Her heart galloped behind her ribs. Hearing him speak like that, make sounds like that—god, she was in trouble. She took a shuddering breath and held it to try and get her shit together, but it only half-worked.

“I was glad to see you, too.” She could only see a sliver of his face, but she saw him smile. “I liked, uh, seeing you fight. I’d been wondering about it for a while.”

“Oh, I’ve been on your mind?” he smirked at her, but his expression wasn’t remotely malicious.

“Can you blame me?”

The stranger seemed pleased with her answer, a shared refrain from several conversations together. He released the stretch and rolled seamlessly onto his back, holding one knee to his chest. He lolled his head to the side to look at her, self-satisfied. “Why did you come to the bar tonight, Osha?”

He was going to make her say it. Bastard.

“Well, Yord hasn’t broken the espresso machine, and you said you weren’t coming around anyway. You haven’t been at the apartment gym, and I couldn’t find anything about you on the internet to track you down. You’re very hard to get ahold of, you know.”

“I know.”

“So the last place I knew you might be… was here. Well, downstairs.”

He nodded, idly tracing his thumb over his kneecap. It was distracting. “You’ve been looking for me, then?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Damnit, hadn’t she said enough for him? He blinked at her, lazy as a cat but twice as sharp.

Fuck it.

“I wanted to see you.”

He made a pleased noise, switching to hold his other leg. He settled into the stretch, breathing slowly like he was savoring those five words he’d dragged past her lips. “Have you thought about my offer?”

She supposed she’d gotten what she wanted. If she was pursuing him this hard, she had her answer. Why did she go looking for him? She wanted to see him. Why did she want to see him? Because she wanted to train—or perhaps another reason she wasn’t being honest with herself about.

He released his leg and sat up fluidly, kneeling before her. He rested both hands on his thighs and tilted his head to the side, considering her openly. Messy-haired, skin still bright and flushed from the fight, kneeling on the floor, he looked penitent, beseeching.

“What do you want, Osha?”

“In order?”

“If you wish.” His lips twitched, suppressing a smile.

She held up three fingers, ticking them off one by one. “In order: I want your number, I want a drink, and I want you to train me.”

CHAPTER 7

[astralcities]

i've said this before but if you work in like a big business/office job you will go home every day sick over how terribly things are run. i just had to write a program to handle a reverse phone number lookup but it turns out the core just randomly changes everyone's area code to 555 (you know. the fictional, film area code.) which means they have no way of knowing if two people with different area codes but same #s are the same person or not. and of course they neglected to tell me this is how it works so i spent like 3 hours wanting to tear my face off travis the chimp style bc i thought i'd screwed the code up

[numbertrackerpro]

Need A Better Phone Number Lookup Solution?

If you want the best phone number lookup tool, then Number Tracker Pro is a great tool for finding information about phone numbers. It checks lots of databases to give you accurate details. You can learn things like who the phone carrier is and what city and state the number belongs to. It's easy to use and gives you lots of helpful info.

[pettyrevenge-base]

Prank caller? Enjoy the religious harrassment.

Someone prank called my job today and they happened to be dumb enough to use their real phone number to do it (the CID matched the codes assigned to the city I work in). They kept me tied up on the phone pretending to be interested in hot dogs and trying to gaslight me into giving them a discount, eventually saying they need "500 hot dogs because they have some very hungry twinks to feed." At this point I hear someone in the back laughing so I tell them I'm going to hang up if they keep screwing with me. I don't get the chance because they hang up first.

Now I'm super annoyed by this because it's a busy Saturday and I have other things I need to do, also, what adult spends their time prank calling random businesses and is dumb enough to not even *69 their number?

So I pulled the caller ID off the phone and ran a reverse lookup, found the guy's name, verified that he lived in the area with Facebook, and used all that info to sign him up for calls and newsletters from the jehovahs witnesses. If he calls back while I'm here I'll ask how he likes his newfound religion.

Source: reddit.com/r/pettyrevenge

[ipqualityscore]

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In Conclusion: In a world where communication is key, having access to accurate and insightful information about your contacts can make a world of difference. Reverse Phone Lookup emerges as an invaluable tool, arming you with the ability to unveil the unknown and make informed decisions in both your personal and professional life. So, the next time an unfamiliar number comes your way, remember that with Reverse Phone Lookup, the power to uncover the truth is right at your fingertips.

[chloepreston]

[straightforbiddenlagoon]

Why Everybody Must Know How to Conduct a Reverse Phone Browse

In today's interconnected world, the contact number has actually become an important tool for interaction, commonly acting as our primary ways of connecting with others. Yet what happens when that number comes to be a mystery? Possibly it's an unidentified caller that keeps reaching out or probably you have actually obtained a text from a person you don't recognize. If you've ever before found on your own asking yourself, lookup numbers for free "Who is this?" or "Should I address?", then you'll understand just exactly how critical it is to know exactly how to carry out a reverse phone search

Understanding Reverse Phone Lookup What is Reverse Phone Lookup?

A reverse phone lookup is a technique made use of to figure out info about the proprietor of a certain contact number. Unlike conventional searches where you seek out someone's name to locate their contact number, reverse lookups operate in the contrary instructions-- beginning with the number and disclosing information concerning the person behind it.

How Does Reverse Phone Lookup Work?

The technicians behind a phone number lookup are relatively simple. When you carry out a reverse lookup, databases which contain publicly readily available information are accessed. These data sources might include:

Public records Social media profiles Business listings

All this data is accumulated, allowing customers to find the name and sometimes added info related to that phone number.

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So, why precisely should every person be familiar with just how to conduct a reverse phone search? The solution depends on security and satisfaction. In an age swarming with rip-offs and unrequested phone calls, being able to identify unidentified numbers can save you from prospective threats.

The Refine of Performing a Reverse Phone Search Step 1: Select Your Method

There are several ways to conduct a reverse lookup You can choose:

Online services Mobile apps Search engines like Google Step 2: Gather Required Information

For most solutions, all you need is the telephone number in question. Nonetheless, having additional context (like whether it's landline or mobile) may yield far better results.

Step 3: Enter the Number

Once you've selected your method and collected your info, enter the number into the appropriate area on the internet site or app.

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After running your phone number search, take a while to review the outcomes meticulously. Occasionally multiple entrances might stand for one number.

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One substantial advantage of carrying out a reverse telephone number lookup free is improved security. By identifying unidentified callers prior to answering, you can avoid scams and harassment.

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Ever obtained messages from a person whose identification was unclear? A straightforward search can help clear up connections-- whether it's an old friend or an undesirable telemarketer.