#passcode lock apps
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
anthonyfox4227 · 7 months ago
Text
Enhancing Home Security with SwitchBot Door Lock and Passcode
As a tech enthusiast, I recently explored the Smart Home Industry and discovered the amazing SwitchBot brand. Their door lock with passcode feature is a game-changer for home security!
SwitchBot's door lock allows you to easily secure your home while enjoying the convenience of keyless entry. The passcode feature ensures that you can grant access to family and friends without the need for physical keys. It's incredibly user-friendly, making it perfect for anyone looking to upgrade their home security effortlessly.
I've found that the installation process is simple and straightforward, and the app integration is seamless. You can control the lock from your smartphone, giving you peace of mind whether you're at home or away.
Overall, SwitchBot is making waves in the Smart Home Industry, and their door lock with passcode is a fantastic addition to any modern home!
0 notes
heavenbarnes · 1 year ago
Note
Pretty please may we have more about Johnny finding your photos in older bf Simon’s phone?
continuation of this
so like i said about older bf!simon who saves all the photos and videos you send him because he likes having a lot to work with. no matter how fucking filthy it might be, he saves it right to his camera roll.
no albums, no hidden folder, no passcode (all things you need to show him when he’s home) photos of your naked body or videos of you humping a pillow and crying his name- all hanging loose in the photos app next to sweet photos of you two on date night or the screenshots johnny had sent him earlier.
that’s where this all went pear shaped, johnny had screenshotted the directions and sent them to simon’s phone. simon was busy assembling his weapon when johnny asked if he could grab those pictures off him.
simon had agreed (well he’d grunted but johnny knew him well enough to translate)
johnny’s thumb was working overtime to get to the screen with the photos app on it (simon doesn’t understand categorising apps so he has like three pages of them) and when he finally finds it, it was already open in the background (simon also doesn’t shut any apps, they’re always running in the back)
in hindsight, the fact johnny went quiet for once should’ve been a warning.
there, in soap’s hot little hand, was a photo of you that looked like it had been taken from the floor. your legs looked amazonian and the pair of knickers you had on hugged the curve of your ass like they were made for you. trailing all the way up your body until he could see your hands cupping your chest.
“jesus christ, L.T- the fuck is this?”
simon casually walked over to join him, looking over his shoulder and grunting again- this time in recognition.
“nah mate, the photos you sent are up ‘ere.”
not a care in the world.
as a long finger reached over to begin swiping through the photos, johnny’s head nearly spun off his shoulders as he was treated to an effective carousel of you in compromising positions.
videos of your legs spread, photos of you in simon’s clothing, close ups, long shots- johnny shifted on his feet in hopes he could adjust himself without hands, without raising alarm.
heat rising in his cheeks, he was close to handing the phone off and telling ghost he’d be back in 15 when a video began to autoplay with a missed swipe and johnny found himself jerking the phone so he could watch it play.
you were on your knees on the bed, back arched and hand between your thighs playing with yourself. your head was rested on the bed, looking back over your shoulder to lock eyes with the camera as a heady moan drifted off your lips.
“si- don’t be gone too long, need you to come home and fill me up”
soap could see stars, they were twirling round his head like somecunt had dropped an anvil on it. his eyes were fixed to the screen in front of him, unable to look anywhere else.
he was snapped back to attention by a dark snicker that came from just on his six. he swore he could feel ghost’s chin resting on his shoulder as the man spoke behind him.
“y’like that, huh? if you ask nicely, i’m sure i could get you one too.”
simon could be generous, but not that generous- you were still his, end of story. but that didn’t mean he couldn’t share something small with his closest.
especially when it was a video of you getting filled up at both ends, just silicone now but who knows what’ll happen when they come back?
3K notes · View notes
studioeisa · 4 months ago
Text
because/despite 🎸 vernon x reader.
Tumblr media
one fine day, you find a list.
★ vernon x rockstar!reader, a.k.a the catch you when i can couple. ★ word count: 1.5k ★ genre/warnings: established relationship, romance, fluff. set after the events of part five; based on a headcanon from part four. ★ footnotes: happy 0218 day. couldn't let it pass without an ode to my darling couple. 🎸🐻‍❄️
Tumblr media
It’s a lazy kind of day. The kind where neither of you have anywhere to be, no pressing schedules or urgent obligations. Just you, Vernon, and the sun filtering through the curtains, painting golden stripes over tangled limbs and soft sheets.
You can’t help the sound of protest that rises out from the back of your throat when Vernon tries to disentangle from you. 
“No need to be so clingy,” he huffs, ruffling your hair as he rises from the bed. “I’m not going anywhere you can’t reach.”
“We were so comfortable,” you whine in protest. 
You’re momentarily distracted by the sight of his bare back as he crosses the room, but even that is ripped away from you too soon. He pulls his shirt back on, and you grumble something under your breath. It sounds suspiciously like selfish bastard. 
Your boyfriend pays you no heed. Go figure. 
“Getting us snacks,” he announces. “Want anything?” 
“You’re the only snack—” 
Your shirt hits you squarely in the face. 
“Hey!” you sputter in between laughter, ready to retaliate with a pitch of your own. 
Vernon is already slipping out, though, leaving the door open a crack behind him. The sound of his chuckles carries over from the next room. It’s the type of moment you used to pray for, isn’t it? 
You flop back down onto the bed. You should get up, but you realize there’s something you want— nay, need— to do. When you reach around the sheets, you’re less than pleased to not have your phone within reach. 
Charging in the living room. Right. 
Your fingers catch on Vernon’s phone, though, and you figure that’ll have to do. 
“Borrowing your phone for a sec,” you holler out to your boyfriend. 
It’s more of a cursory thing; there were no secrets between you and Vernon. His sound of approval from the kitchen is to be expected. Your mind supplies you with the image of what he must look like— barefoot, leaning into your refrigerator, rummaging through all the cans of soda in search for something somewhat substantial. 
Man, the things you’d give up to have this forever. 
You punch in his password and pull up Instagram. Your private, joint couple account has chronicled your relationship since day one, and this is a moment you want immortalized. The sun hitting the bed post just right. The mess of your hair; a product of his restless fingers. The domestic bliss of it all. 
There’s a specific caption you want. Something about laundry and taxes. You let out a low ‘tsk’ as you try to recall it verbatim. It’s a good thing your boyfriend keeps a meticulous note of all his favorite movie quotes. 
Later, you will swear up and down to Vernon that it was looking up at you. You hadn’t gravitated to his Notes app with the intention to pry! You just wanted to be sweet, to be cute. A girlfriend who could accurately quote Everything Everywhere All at Once. 
It tempted you. A locked note, the title nothing but a rock guitar emoji.
You tilt your head. Interesting.
Of course, you try to open it.
It asks for a passcode, and you roll your eyes. Vernon is predictable, so you type in your birthday. Wrong. His birthday. Wrong. 
The name of your secret couple’s Instagram account? 11203km. Bingo. 
The note unlocks, and immediately, the screen floods with words. It takes a bit to load, like the note is bogged down by the sheer amount of content in it. That might be the case, really. After all— as you find out later— the note has been sitting snugly in his phone for years now. 
It’s fairly straightforward. Bullet point after bullet point, all starting with the same four words. I love you because. 
I love you because you hum when you’re tuning your guitar.
I love you because you let me steal your fries even though you pretend to complain.
I love you because my shirts are all a little bit big on you, and it makes you look cute. 
You let out a stuttering breath. The entries are specific enough for you to know they’re about you, but general in a way that you wouldn’t know when or where they were written. It could’ve been on his plane ride here, could’ve been weeks ago, could’ve been just this morning. 
You can’t help it. You keep scrolling, your eyes flitting over the big and small moments that your boyfriend has masterfully kept from you. A dragon hoarding its treasure. And then— 
I love you because even when you said goodbye, I couldn’t stop loving you.
Your stomach drops. Suddenly, you’re taken back to the headlines, the time apart, the brief stint at being shitty exes. PLEDIS Confirms SEVENTEEN’s Vernon Has Broken Up With Rockstar Girlfriend. The whole breakup lasted only a couple of months, but it’d felt like the longest few months of your life.
If Vernon’s entries are anything to go by, then he felt the same. 
I love you because I know you thought leaving was the best thing for me. But I wish you’d stayed.
I love you because you perform like you went through a wholeass divorce. Hot. 
I love you. I don’t know how not to. 
You swallow, the lump in your throat thick, threatening to spill over into something heavier— until a voice cuts through the silence.
“You fuckin’ snoop.” 
Vernon stands over the side of your bed, watching you over your shoulder. Damn him and his uncanny ability to move in silence. He sets aside the plate of fruit he’d prepared before plucking the phone from your fingers.
Thankfully, he doesn’t look particularly displeased. The guilty-as-charged expression on your face must be enough for him, because your boyfriend only looks vaguely exasperated. 
“First of all,” he says, “you cracked my passcode?” 
You sit up, propping yourself up by your elbows. “You should really be more unpredictable.” 
“Noted.” Vernon falls back into bed, one of his eyebrows quirking upward inquisitively. “How much did you read?” 
You press your lips together, and instead of answering, you just look at him. Really look at him. He’s teasing, sure, but there’s something soft in his expression. Something open and raw, like he’s challenging you to be as honest as he’s been. You take him up on it. 
“You kept writing,” you say, your voice small and disbelieving, “even when we weren’t together.” 
His teasing edge fades, replaced by something more sincere. “Yeah,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 
“Why?” 
“Why not?” 
The answer is so quintessentially him that you can’t help the half-laugh, half-groan that escapes you. His easy grin only widens a bit at your amusement— like your happiness is the only reason he does any of this. 
Something in your chest tightens all over again, but this time, it’s different. This time, it’s warmth, pooling in your ribcage, spreading through every inch of you. 
You roll over until you can rest your chin on his chest. Instinctively, Vernon wraps an arm around your waist, bracing you against him. He stares down at you with the smile of a man who has found reason after reason after reason to adore you, across the five years of this whole thing.  
That’s what makes it easy for you, too, to blurt out, “I love you, even though you’re shit at peeling oranges.” 
Vernon barks out a startled laugh. “What?” 
It’s the first thing that came to mind; the fruit is peeled haphazardly and plated messily at your bedside, after all. You ignore his confusion, barrelling on. “I love you despite the fact you pet all stray cats, rabies be damned,” you say. “I love you even though it’s absolute hell to take photos of you because you have the same pose for everything.” 
Realization seems to dawn on Vernon. He attempts to pinch your side, but the playful move only has you burrowing further into him. 
“I love you despite your resting bitch fa— hey— ce!” Your words are punctuated by a squeal as Vernon ups his ante, his fingers skating over your sides. 
“Don’t go stealing my gig,” he complains. 
You thrash underneath his tickling, trying, still, to keep going in between breathless giggles. “I love— love’y— even though— even— Hansol!”
He laughs, unrelenting. 
The fruit lays forgotten at your bedside. The sheets are crumpled, twisted between the two of you. The sun sinks; the world goes on without the two of you, just for today.
Vernon loves you because— you love him despite— 
529 notes · View notes
domjaehyun · 9 months ago
Text
under the influence (l.dh) — TEASER
Tumblr media
PAIRING ▸ stoner!haechan x fem!reader WORD COUNT ▸ 11.1k in the fic, 907 in the teaser WARNINGS ▸ a hint of dubcon, pervy!dom!haechan, shy!sub!reader, dacryphilia, corruption kink, finger sucking, oral (giving & receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, nipple play (receiving), marking, some cum eating, spit play, groping in public, panty stealing & sniffing PLAYLIST ▸ FYS - john concepcion, sweet release - kevin ross NOTES ▸ here’s a preview of Under the Influence 😁 the full fic will hopefully be up by October 7th on my Patreon, but if you’re not subscribed to me there, then it’ll be out on here on October 23rd :) enjoy!
Tumblr media
“Pretty girl, you want another hit of the pen?” Haechan offers, and you think back to the way Haechan clutched your chin earlier to shotgun you, finally shaking your head in refusal. “Okay,” he relents, reaching into his back pocket for something and frowning before pulling out an empty hand. “I have something for you.” he says before standing up and heading back to his room.
He emerges once more with a half of a red gummy cube sticking out of his mouth, sitting back down on the couch and draping his arm over the back so it’s ghosting just over your shoulders. “Bite,” he urges through closed teeth, and you shoot him a wary look. “Bite,” he stresses, and you falter, not sure if you should.
“Is it an edible?” you ask cautiously, and he rolls his eyes, an amused chuckle leaving him. 
“Yes. Bite.” It’s not a request, and instead of getting huffy about him bossing you around, you’re more surprised than anyone else when you lean in and carefully bite the other end of the gummy, tugging your half away from his mouth before chewing it. It’s sweet and sugary, but there’s a definite strong aftertaste, a tongue-drying, almost numbing sensation that reminds you it was more than just a little snack. “See, you don’t mind sharing with me, right?”
You don’t answer, instead sitting back and pulling out your phone to fire off a quick text to your group chat consisting of the two girls sitting a little ways away from you and your fourth roommate, Yurin, who usually frequents these hangout sessions but had to pass this time to study for midterms.
you [18:11pm] SOS you [18:11pm] he keeps being all TOUCHY TOUCHY what do i do?
You set your phone down on the couch face down and stand up, heading to the bathroom to calm your nerves. 
Little do you know, your phone buzzes while you’re gone, Haechan’s curiosity getting the better of him as he flips your phone over. 
Luckily for him, and very unluckily for you, you don’t have a privacy setting on your Messages app notifications, meaning that any incoming texts can be read by any prying eyes, no passcode necessary.
yurin big trouble mister [18:14pm] maybe tell him how you get all TOUCHY TOUCHY with yourself to the thought of him 😁 karina bo bina [18:16pm] god could you be any more crass?? yurin big trouble mister [18:17pm] LMAOOO i couldn’t help it the joke was right there yeri berry [18:18pm] you’re laughing. our dear friend is about to get consumed by a weed smoking incubus and you’re laughing.
Haechan snorts to himself in amusement, deliberately leaving your phone face-up for your return. You enter the room shortly after, picking up your phone and scrolling through your notifications with a small frown bordering on a grimace.
“What’s got you all upset, pretty?” Haechan asks, feigning curiosity, and you flinch, locking your phone and tossing it in your lap in a panic. “And now you’re jumpy, too? What’s on that phone that’s got you so stressed out, hm?” 
“Nothing,” you answer far too quickly for your liking. 
“I don’t think it’s nothing,” Haechan persists, voice lowering in pitch and volume as he moves closer to you, eyes bright with excitement and something else you can’t quite place. “I think there’s something incriminating on that phone.”
“Incriminating?” you mumble, dazed and flustered, and Haechan nods slowly, lips curling into a wolfish grin. 
“Incriminating like… nudes, maybe,” he muses, tapping his chin thoughtfully, and at the sight of your confused face, shakes his head. “That must not be it. Maybe a message of some sort… from a friend…” You freeze as you realize exactly what’s going on, and Haechan’s grin only widens now that he can tell you know that he knows. “Wonder what you look like when you… how did she put it? ‘Get all touchy touchy with yourself’ to the thought of me.” 
“Haechan,” you murmur, heart rate quickening as you try to think of any possible way out of this conversation. “It’s not what you think it is.”
“I think it’s exactly what I think it is.” he counters with a mischievous wiggle of his brows, and you whimper in panic, desire starting to blaze in his eyes at the sound. 
“What were you doing looking at my phone, anyway?” you accuse, cursing to yourself as your voice shakes slightly.
“I’m nosy,” is all he offers in response. “And, oh, please, you wanted me to see that text. You wanted me to know that late at night,” he teases, pulling your hand closest to him away as you squeal and try to cover your ears, “you touch your pretty little pussy,” he forces your hand back down between you two with a chuckle, “and think about me.”
“Could you lower your voice, please?” you mumble nervously, and he just laughs.
“You don’t want everyone to know that you’re into me, do you?” he remarks, and you swallow thickly, looking down at your lap. “I’ll keep your little secret. For a price.”
You study him out of the corner of your eye suspiciously. “What price?”
He strokes his chin thoughtfully before leaning back and draping his arm behind you on the couch. “I’ll let you know.” His voice is teasing but there’s an ominous edge to his voice that makes you gulp.
Tumblr media
i hope you enjoyed! you can subscribe to my patreon here to see it 2 weeks early :)
821 notes · View notes
emmyrosee · 1 year ago
Text
I missed Katsuki ☹️☹️🩵
——-
The movie plays on in the background, but you’re feeling more than mischievous, unable to be settled in your desire to wreak havoc on katsuki’s life.
Your eyes wander to your man, who’s fixated on the film, fingers on autopilot as he feeds himself chips of Doritos, stuck in a focused loop that your find remarkably endearing.
Good thing you’re here to mess with that.
You glaze over your man with intent to bother him, set him into giving you attention that you’re desperately craving, only for your gaze to settle on his phone, resting on his thigh.
Your fingers crawl from your thigh onto his, slowly as to try and keep him from noticing.
This, of course, doesn’t work, and Katsuki immediately grabs the bag of chips up and out of your reach, “dude. I’ll fucking kill you.”
“What?” You giggle.
“I fucking asked you if you wanted something from 7/11, and you said no. Leave my snack alone, asshole.”
“Oh…” you begin. Then you smile at him, “I just wanted your phone,” you explain. With that, he looks you up and down, as if trying to find a lie and that you sincerely wanted a bite of his Doritos. When you quirk your brow expectantly, he’s quick to pass you his phone.
“Passcode is Denki’s birthday.”
“Why is it Denki’s birthday?”
“Because if it was my birthday or yours, people would be able to get into it,” he explains. “Use your brain, I know it’s hard for you sometimes.”
“Don’t be mean,” you whine; sure enough, when you type in the digits to Denki’s birthday, his phone clicks unlocked, revealing an alphabetical organization of apps. Behind it, his Lock Screen is a picture of you sleeping on his chest, and you smirk at him, “you taking pictures of me sleeping, freak?”
“It’s when I find you most tolerable.” He chuckles when you send him a swift smack to his chest, deeming it safe enough to open the bag of chips and plop one on his tongue. “What’re you looking for anyways?”
“You’re other bitches,” you hum.
He snickers, “my other bitches are your mood swings. And Kiri.”
“I don’t know- seems like things are getting serious between you and denks.”
“I wouldn’t piss on Denki if he was on fire.”
“You know you love him.”
“I love him because of you,” he grumbles. When you angle your head to press a kiss to his jawline, he grunts happily and pauses his eating, almost as if to not disturb you.
“Thank you for letting me into your phone,” you whisper, and he nods and lets out a soft ‘anytime,’ before tossing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close, his free hand now feeding himself.
You sink your teeth into your lip as your eyes now wander to the bag resting on his lap, “… can I have a bite?”
“I FUCKING KNEW IT-“
2K notes · View notes
copperbadge · 7 months ago
Text
I'm seeing some talk of people deleting period tracking apps and I imagine that's tough to do, so I wanted to put a suggestion out there -- Bearable is an app meant for tracking mood, but with Premium, which is $35/year, you can add custom metrics and track them several ways. I know at least one person who uses it for reproductive health tracking, and you can name the custom metrics whatever you want. Some of mine are "meds" for when I've taken certain weekly medication and "social pos" for when I feel I've had a positive social interaction. The free version isn't as customizable but I still think it may be of use.
Bearable can be passcode locked and has very fast and simple export and delete data functions. And because it's designed for people struggling with mental health, it has a specific commitment not to sell your data. They encrypt your data automatically and deliberately don't even ask your age, gender, name, etc. I use it for mood, anxiety, and pain tracking, and I really like it.
623 notes · View notes
operative079 · 1 month ago
Text
“Privacy Is a Western Delusion”
Man is not above going through your phone. He’s so far below it, he’s probably tunnelling through the subtext of your notifications as we speak. And he will do it shamelessly. Thoroughly. Systematically. All while acting like you’re the one being dramatic.
The idea of personal devices having boundaries? He laughs. Genuinely. "You sleep next to me. You bleed next to me. But I can’t read your DMs?” "Do you also believe democracy works?"
You leave your phone unattended for five seconds—he’s already checking the passcode pattern like it’s a puzzle he designed. You come back and catch him scrolling. Doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t lie. Doesn’t stop. “This contract is saved as ‘Fetus.’ Who is that?” Scroll scroll “Why do you have six photos of me sleeping?” Glances up “You are lucky I find that flattering.”
If you call him out? “That’s my privacy.” “You don’t have privacy. You have clearance levels.”
He changes your lock screen to a photo of him with the most evil smirk. Organise your apps “for efficiency.” Edits your notes with “corrections.” Replies to texts with “They’re busy. Don’t text again,” and hits send without asking.
You: “Can you not?” He, without looking up: “I’ve read darker things in state archives.” “This? This is adorable.”
136 notes · View notes
kingkatsuki · 1 year ago
Text
Thinking about a silly accidental confession with Kaji, because you just know he would have an entire photo album dedicated to you on his phone!!
Tumblr media
It wasn’t unusual for you and Kaji to share phones, even though you weren’t dating. Swapping devices so you could create each other custom playlists for whatever new artist you were listening to that week, or searching through each others sound cloud to try and find that song you’d heard playing in a local music venue before the show.
The pair of you were so comfortable with each other that you knew each others passcodes, a fact that Hiragi took great delight in when he’d found out. Claiming that you could find out all of Kaji’s deep, dark secrets— causing his best friend to shoot him a glare across the table as he bit down on the hard peach candy he’d been sucking to stop himself from throwing back a retort.
But Hiragi was right— there was a huge secret that he’d been hiding from you, and one he was certain he’d take to his grave because there was no way you’d ever feel the same.
Kaji had left his phone on the coffee table as he’d got up to use the bathroom, giving you the perfect opportunity to pick it up and unlock it like you usually would. Intent on adding a new song you’d found by a local artist to his current playlist in the hopes of being able to drag him to one of their shows later this month. Typing in the digits across the screen as it unlocked and you were met with his photo gallery, not wanting to pry or come across an accidental lewd (no matter how curious you were) as your thumb moved to swipe out of the app but you paused when you noticed it.
Row upon row of photos of you. Candids mostly— of you smiling while sitting across the table in Pothos from him, ones where you were walking ahead of him beside Tsubaki as he lingered back, or your face pressed against the glass of an arcade machine as you tried to aim for a plushie inside. Along with selfies the pair of you had taken together, some with the ridiculous Snapchat filters Kaji had sworn he despised and barked at you to delete— bunny ears or fake blush filters on his cheeks, along with individual selfies of yourself that you had sent to him. And there was even screenshots of your conversations, or flirty and silly memes you’d sent each other.
And that’s the moment you looked up at the title of the album to see “My Everything <3” typed out. Feeling your heart begin to swell inside your chest as you were certain it would exert pressure against your rib cage and burst free, he really did feel the same.
“What are you doin’?” Kaji flopped back down beside you on the couch, his thigh nudging yours as he glanced over to his phone in your hands as he saw it, and for the first time since held known you he tried to snatch his phone from between your fingers roughly, “Give that back.”
“No.” You held it out of his reach as Kaji practically leaned his entire body over you to try and retrieve it, leaving your faces inches from each others as you met his steel-blue gaze, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think you felt the same,” His jaw locked as he tried to fight the awkward sensation that throbbed in his tummy, certain he’d ruined everything he already had with you because he had to go and catch feelings, “It’s stupid, I’m sorry I’ll delete it—”
“Why wouldn’t I?” You cut him off as you tilted your head to the side in confusion, and Kaji thought you looked so adorable it took every fiber of his being not to lean forward and smash his lips against yours.
“Why wouldn’t you what?” Kaji felt his throat start to tighten as his mouth felt dry, his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly to try and quell the feeling. Wishing he had a lollipop between his lips to stop himself from exploding as he tried to focus.
“Why wouldn’t I feel the same?” You gave him a soft smile as you dropped his phone onto the couch beside you in favour of cradling his jaw in your palm, feeling him lean into your warmth as your thumb stroked his cheek, “Because you’re my everything too.”
And that was all it took to have Kaji bridging the gap as he pressed his lips to yours in a gentle kiss.
Tumblr media
634 notes · View notes
steelbluehome · 3 months ago
Text
From Fear and Loathing: Closer to the Edge on Facebook
Heading to a “Hands Off!” protest this Saturday? Here’s everything you need to know — your rights, safety tips, and what to do if arrested.
On Saturday, April 5, people across the United States will gather for a coordinated day of resistance. From major cities to small towns, the “Hands Off!” protests are about drawing a hard line — against political overreach, creeping authoritarianism, and policies that strip away our rights and dignity.
Whether you’re marching in New York City, Dallas, Chicago, or a rural square in Nebraska, your presence matters. So does your preparation.
Here’s your nationwide guide to showing up — and staying safe while doing it.
KNOW YOUR RIGHTS (AND WRITE THEM ON YOUR ARM)
Before you arrive: Write the local legal support hotline number on your arm in permanent marker. In many cities, National Lawyers Guild (NLG) chapters will operate hotlines and send legal observers.
Say: “I am exercising my right to remain silent. I want a lawyer.”
Ask: “Am I being detained or am I free to go?”
If detained, remain silent.
If not, walk away calmly.
Legal observers (often in green hats/vests) are there to document police behavior — not to represent you legally. You can notify them if you witness abuse or misconduct.
WHAT TO BRING
Pack like you’re staying awhile and planning for anything:
Water and snacks
Face mask, hand sanitizer, and sunscreen
Phone with passcode lock (NOT Face ID/fingerprint)
External battery pack
Cash (for food, transit, emergencies)
Printed emergency contacts
Comfortable shoes, weather-appropriate clothing
Goggles or saline drops (in case of tear gas, depending on region)
Don’t bring:
Weapons (or anything that could be construed as one)
Illegal substances
Anything you wouldn’t want seized or photographed by law enforcement
STAY SAFE, STAY CALM, STAY NON-VIOLENT
Stick together. Stay with your group. Have a plan if separated.
Avoid confrontation. Ignore counter-protesters and agitators.
Film what matters. You have the legal right to record public events, including police activity — but don’t interfere.
De-escalate when possible. Your goal is to be heard, not baited.
Watch your surroundings. Know where you are and how to exit if needed.
If arrested:
Don’t resist.
Don’t talk beyond name and birthdate.
Wait for a lawyer.
Don’t sign anything without legal counsel.
PROTECT YOUR DATA
Phones are tools — and vulnerabilities.
Turn off Face ID and fingerprint unlock. Use a passcode.
Consider airplane mode during risky moments.
Back up photos/videos or use live stream apps like Instagram or Twitch to preserve footage.
Use encrypted messaging apps like Signal.
RESOURCES BY REGION
While every city differs, these national orgs often have local chapters or partners at major protests:
National Lawyers Guild: nlg.org
ACLU: aclu.org/know-your-rights
Mutual Aid Networks: Search “[Your City] Mutual Aid”
Bail Funds Directory: bailfunds.github.io
Legal Hotlines: Often listed on local protest pages or announced by organizers day-of
TRANSPORT + ACCESSIBILITY
Plan ahead: Some roads and transit lines may close or reroute.
Carpool or take transit when possible.
If you need ADA accommodations, contact local organizers in advance or ask staff at arrival points.
THIS IS BIGGER THAN A MARCH
This isn’t just a protest. It’s a warning flare — and a promise. That we won’t stand by while our rights are stripped. That we won’t let apathy win. That we see what’s happening — and we’re not afraid to raise hell, peacefully and powerfully.
So come prepared.
Come together.
And don’t let them scare you into silence.
Stay safe. Stay loud.
116 notes · View notes
brailsthesmolgurl · 1 year ago
Text
“Do you have games on your phone?”
Preview: A look into the guilty-pleasure games the boys would have on their phones and what they would generally what is in their phone.
XAVIER
“Yeah I play them every once in a while.” The blond boy lifted his phone screen up, directing it to your face and it revealed the home page. Of course he would have your FACE ID registered into his phone. He is a man of privacy most of the time so having his phone to be locked is mostly to restrict strangers from accessing his phone. His phone applications are neatly arranged into folders, he has a lot of them, separated and boxed away according to their usage. Useless Apps, Useful Apps, Socials and Games. These are about the amount of folders he would have on his home page, featuring a silhouette picture of you staring off into the dark of the night, admiring the moon and basking under its silvery light. That picture of you is one of his favourites out of the other pictures he has of you in his photo album. “You can try playing this.” He pretty much has all of the classic games one could think of in his Games folder. Subway surfers, Temple Run, Angry Birds, Minecraft and many other classics.
You were stunned at the amount of games that the folder holds. It took your around five swipes to reach the end of the folder. When asked with why he has so much games that it filled up more than half of his storage, he flashes you an amused grin. “I spend a lot of my time on my phone if I am alone or not sleeping. So I like to keep myself entertained.” He is the type to watch you play the games on his phone, seemingly entertained by how hard you were trying to beat his score when he himself has worldwide rank of #1 across all games. You are definitely in shock and low-key wondered how long does he actually spend on playing all of these games in order to gain such a rank. When you lost within the first few rounds, you realised you flashing him a frown was a mistake when he said. “It’s hard to gain my score right? My advice is that you can stop trying to beat me and just enjoy the game.”
RAFAYEL
“Oh, finally you want to see if I have any secret contacts of girls stashed away in my phone? It’s gonna be disappointing for you my love.” The artist teases, lips curled into a smirk when he hands you his phone and you familiarly typed in the passcode. The phone clicked and it brought you to the home page, featuring a picture of you and him taken during one of his most recent exhibitions. The both of you stood next to one another, his arms around your waist and posed in front of the huge canvas of abstract art. His phone applications however, are not organised, just like his house most of the time when things gets too busy on his end. As an artist, he always calls it ‘beauty apparent within a mess’. He only owns one game on his phone and it is an RPG dating game. He is so down bad at missing you some times that he had to result to games to suffice his own needs of needing to be around you. The RPG dating game is the typical choice making game that affects the results of the game and he puts in an insane amount of money to make his character look as similar to himself and the crush in the game to be as ornamented as you.
Teasing him about his game choice drives him into a blushing frenzy. Denial at first but eventually succumbing to his own guilty pleasure when you started asking about the character models he had spent an insane amount of time to sculpt in game. “I just wanted to play this game whenever I do not get to spend time with you either it’d be in a different time zone or you’re just busy. A man has his own needs and I see this being a healthy way of missing you without bothering you on a daily basis.” His bashfulness reply made you smiled, for he is a genuine man afterall and he expresses his love to you in the weirdest yet most caring method. “If you see any clothes in the store, you can just buy it so I can get the in-game you to wear it. If they said that I do not have enough gems for the transaction just reload it for me yeah?”
ZAYNE
“Here. You can try and play it if you’d like.” He unlocked his phone with his fingerprint and handed it over to you. He has your fingerprint and Face ID registered into his phone’s security system but since you asked out of the blue, he might as well just do you the favour to unlock the phone for you, as he is a proclaimed gentleman. You asking for what games he has on his phone makes the all-time serious man cracked a thin smile on his lips, fancy seeing you embracing your childlike image. His wallpaper is a picture of you and only you, sat in the middle of a flower field with a smile as bright as the sun that hung above in the clear skies. You remembered this image, it was one of those days where a planned trip was interrupted and so the both of you ended up with spontaneous plans. This specific flower field being one of the result of the spontaneity. His home page is ridiculously minimal, with each page dedicated to specific apps. He has only two games on his phone; Tetris and Sudoku.
You were even surprised he has any games on his phone. When asked for the reason, the doctor who was focused on his paperwork paused for a moment and looked at you with bewildered forest-like orbs. “Such games are researched to be stimulating to one’s brain, it aids in relieving boredom and also exercise it. Statistics has shown that it helps in improving one’s logic sense, problem solving skills and pattern spotting skills. You should try it as you always seemingly can’t use your brain whenever you’re caught up in a situation that requires you to use one. It might teach you that brute force may not be the answer to all.” His strict tone made your gaze narrowed at him, taking his words towards the side of offence. But he does make a point as you are the one that is always going into his office with physical injuries. Furthermore, him spitting facts for educative purposes effectively diminishes your will to rebut him. “I have already taken the liberty to download the games I had mentioned into your phone, perhaps you can play them whenever you are free.”
384 notes · View notes
starsforselene · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x Afab reader
Rating: explicit MDNI
Contains: masturbation (m), mentions of recorded sex acts, mentions of vaginal penetration
Word count: 1.2k
Summary: Mingyu misses you during a sleepless night while he’s away. Thankfully, he has a special folder full of memories you two have been working on.
Note: This is a little different than things I’ve written before. Would love to know if it’s a hit or miss? Haha.
—/
Mingyu tossed and turned, trying to find comfort in yet another hotel bed. While there’s nothing wrong with this undoubtedly expensive mattress and the high thread count sheets, it wasn’t home. He knows the traveling is part of what he signed up for, but tonight the bed is too big; it’s too empty.
He reaches for his phone and squints at the brightness until he can adjust, thinking maybe he can send you a text or maybe even call, anything to feel connected to you. Of course, it’s 3:45 AM and you’re asleep by now, and no matter how lonely he feels it’s not lonely enough to wake you up.
Scrolling through social media does nothing to ease the heavy feeling that’s settled in his chest, the ache of missing someone. He pulls up the photos app and scrolls through the album you made for him; photos he’s taken either of you or of the two of you that bring back memories. So you can have it handy when you miss me, you said when he’d asked about it.
It helps tonight, the images of times spent together from those shy first dates to the familiarity of having someone he can know is his, someone he counts on and loves that he can confidently know loves him for who he is. Your smiling face looking back at him from your spot on a beach towel after a day trip to the coast, your back shining in the sun, your hair whipping wildly around you from the ocean breeze…the way your waist curves perfectly and the swimsuit bottoms that barely covered your ass.
Something stirs inside him, a pull deep in his belly that he’s well acquainted with. Flashes of you running through the waves that day, the way you laughed and splashed at him, your body dripping wet from the saltwater. How he laid you down on a beach towel as the sun set and worshiped every inch of you; how you squirmed as he tasted the salt on your skin, your sweet moans and whimpers as he buried himself inside you—fuck. He groans as his now hard cock strains against his boxers.
Mingyu backs out of the photo and makes his way towards another album, one that’s locked behind a password only the two of you know. There’s this small thrill that tickles his stomach as he puts in the passcode and the album opens up, the previews from the various photos and videos enough to make his cock twitch and arousal buzz through his limbs.
He caresses his fingers down his chest, breath faltering as he pictures your hands there instead. His fingers hover on the waistband of his underwear as he scrolls for the one video that never fails to make his blood rush. He finally finds it, the preview image alone has him palming his throbbing cock over the thin material of his underwear even though that’s not going to cut it and he knows this.
The video starts playing, your voice playing over the phone speakers, transporting him back to that night, how you were just as giddy as him when he had decided to pull his phone out and record you both—for the memories—you had said.
Mingyu groans to himself as the camera finally settles on a shot of you on top of him, hand on his cock as you run the head between your glistening folds. There’s a moment where you giggle and ask him if the flash needs to be on and he smirks through the haze of his arousal at your playfulness. The mood quickly shifts as you finally align him with your entrance and slowly sink yourself on his cock, a combined gasp from you both making him throb and leak pre cum.
Unable to tease himself any longer, he pulls down his underwear just enough to be able to stroke himself fully, his eyes rolling back momentarily as he finally gives in to his need. He runs the slick that’s gathered at the tip down his shaft, a low moan rising from his throat at how fucking good it feels as he watches you swivel your hips onto his cock on screen, your sweet moans filling the otherwise quiet hotel room.
“Fuck, Gyu, your cock feels so good baby. So full—shit.”
Your words make him pump himself faster, desperately wishing he was feeling your tight walls clenching around him instead; the memory of your tight heat spurring him on. He watches you ride him, the way you eagerly take all of him with every rise and fall of your hips, the lewd smacking sounds making his belly tighten.
“That’s it, gorgeous, fuck yourself on my cock. Just like that.” He listens to the way you whine and groan to his praise, his balls tightening as he watches your hand appear on screen to rub tight circles on your clit.
His breathing is uneven from trying to hold back just long enough to get to his favorite part, thigh muscles straining as his hips lift into his hand to match the pace you're keeping in the video. You’re moaning louder now and he knows from memory that you’re about to come, his own release fast approaching as he watches your hips falter and his own pick up the slack to get you there. The way you’re chanting his name, begging him to keep fucking you like that makes the room spin. He stops holding back; fisting himself harder, twisting at the head just the right way, his limbs burning with need.
Mingyu watches you come on his cock with a breathless cry, his name on your lips, the way you quiver on top of him with each pulse of your orgasm—that’s what does it. He whimpers, your name moaned out into the empty room as he works himself through his release, spilling come on his stomach with every pump of his hand. With every throb of his cock he wishes more than anything it was you he was coming inside of, you praising him for doing so well, you kissing his face as he comes down from the heaven you bring him to.
It’s not, but it’ll have to do, he thinks with a sigh as he finally settles. The heaviness feels delightful; he’s no longer a ball of anxiety and the loneliness has dulled in his chest. Sleep tries to claim him as he fumbles for a tissue to clean himself off, suddenly more tired than he’s ever been.
He takes care of the mess as best he can, ready to pass out until he’s needed again when he hears his phone buzz on the nightstand. His brows knit together as he reaches for it, his heart flopping in his chest when he sees it’s you.
“Baby, are you okay? It’s so late.”
“Yeah I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you, I’m okay I just…I missed you. I had a dream about you and now I can’t sleep,” you say quietly.
He knows that tone, though, and he smirks as he lays back against the pillows again.
“Tell me all about it, gorgeous.”
615 notes · View notes
pinknatural · 9 months ago
Text
cybersecurity
Cas has his hand aglow with grace, preparing to smite his phone, when suddenly a hand wraps around his wrist. The light fades and he looks up at Dean, who is reached across the kitchen table looking vaguely panicked. 
“Woah, buddy, hold your horses,” he says. “What’d your phone do this time?”
”It broke,” Cas says in disgust, showing Dean the screen. It is dark and frozen, with words across it proclaiming that it is “locked” for five minutes, due to “too many failed password attempts”. Infernal thing. Cas is pretty sure cellular phones are the work of demons, which would explain why it is difficult to use and also extremely addicting. Candy Crush, in particular, is certainly demonic work. Emojis were probably invented by a human, which would explain why they’re so delightful.
“Well,” Dean says. “Looks to me like you forgot your password, except that I know you don’t have a password. Did you set one on accident?”
“How would I have done that?” Cas demands. To be quite honest, he thought his phone simply didn’t come with a password. 
“Under ‘settings’ or ‘general’, or something,” Dean says. Cas shakes his head. The only apps he goes on are the texting one, and Candy Crush. And Pinterest. He spends far too much time on Pinterest. 
“Well, then, it’s a stumper,” Dean says. He takes another bite of his scrambled eggs. Cas glares at his phone. 
Sam comes into the kitchen, whistling cheerfully. He goes to the fridge and starts to pull out his kale and almond milk and whatever else he puts in his post-run kale smoothies. He’s dressed in flannel and jeans, and his hair is wet, so Cas supposes he must have showered already. 
“Sammy, do you know why Cas’ phone would lock him out? He doesn’t even have a password.”
“Oh, yeah,” Sam says, turning around to face the table and snapping his fingers. “I gave you one.”
“What?” Cas says. 
“It’s not very secure to not have one,” Sam says. “What if someone steals your phone? Or you leave it somewhere?”
Cas has forgotten his phone on a case approximately eleven times. Apparently Dean has never told this to Sam. Suddenly, leaving his phone behind so much seems less embarrassing and more of a wonderful secret that he and Dean share. He looks at Dean, but his face is steady and he’s still facing Sam. 
“And you just didn’t tell him you locked him out of his own phone?”
“I literally set it an hour ago,” Sam says, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t think he’d notice!”
It’s possible Sam doesn’t know about Dean and Cas’ routine of sitting together and eating breakfast, Dean scrolling his phone for cases and Cas scrolling through wedding inspiration on Pinterest, but that seems impossible, for this time is as holy as church. He squints at Sam. 
“So what is the password?” he asks. 
“I just made it 123456,” Sam says, raising his hands defensively. “But you should change it to something else.” 
Dean rounds on Cas, eyebrow raised. “And you didn’t guess that?”
“How would I know to guess that?” He had mainly guessed things like 888888 or 333333. 
“Ugh,” Dean says, dropping his fork onto his eggs. “Ok, Steve Jobs, put in your new password and I’ll help you get set up.”
Cas enters the password. Sam rattles around in the pantry. Dean leans across the table. Cas tilts his phone toward him. 
“Go to Settings,” Dean instructs, pointing at the gray gears in the top corner of Cas’ phone screen. Cas taps it and follows Dean’s directions into the “passcode” section. He has to enter Sam’s absurd password one more time to change it.
“What should I change it to?” he asks. 
“I dunno,” Dean says. “A lot of people use a date or something.”
“Is yours?” Cas knows Dean’s password, of course, but he thought it was a random string of numbers that had come with his phone. Why he thought his phone didn’t come with one while Dean’s did he doesn’t know, but it was easier without a password and so it never bothered him. 
“Yeah,” Dean says. Cas tilts his head. 
“Why October 22, ‘69?” he asks. Dean grins. Sam groans. To be honest, Cas had forgotten Sam was even in the room.
“Led Zeppelin II’s release date,” Dean says. “The day ‘Ramble On’ came into the world. Best day ever.”
Cas develops a new appreciation for October 22, if not just because Dean likes it. 
“Plus I wanted to put 69 in my password,” Dean says, winking outrageously. Sam pretends to vomit. “Sammy over there likes to rotate his password out,” Dean says. He rolls his eyes. “Always between sappy shit like my birthday and Dad’s birthday and Mom’s birthday.”
“Whatever,” Sam says. “Normal people use birthdays or anniversaries, Dean. You’re the freak here.”
“Sounds like something a little bitch would say,” Dean says, winking at Cas. Cas looks down at his phone, hiding a little smile. 
“Jerk,” Sam says, and then he turns on the blender. 
Cas should use a birthday, he supposes. But he does not have one of his own to use. He wants to make it Dean’s birthday. He glances up at Dean, who is jokingly exchanging nasty expressions with Sam. He imagines one of those expressions turned onto him, and looks back at his phone. Perhaps 012479 would be too revealing. He looks at Dean again, and then types in a number. 
Sam turns off the blender and Dean turns back to Cas. 
“So?” he says. “Think of something?”
”Yes,” Cas says. “091808.” He likes those numbers in his mouth. 
“What’s that?” Sam says. 
“Just a random number,” Cas says. For some reason, he doesn’t want Sam to know.
”I guess you met us in ‘08,” Sam muses. 
“I suppose,” Cas says. He looks at Dean. His beautiful face is kind of frozen, cheeks dusted with red. Their eyes meet. Dean’s flush deepens. Cas stares at him. 
Somewhere behind them, Sam bottles his smoothie and leaves the kitchen, muttering about research. Cas doesn’t look away from Dean. 
“Good numbers,” Dean croaks out eventually. “Cool…password. Uncrackable.” He stands, gabbing his plate and dropping it in the sink before running out of the room. Cas looks back down at his phone, smiling at the screen, and absurdly pleased that Dean recognized the numbers at all.  
172 notes · View notes
sweetiesicheng · 7 months ago
Text
seungkwan - nap
word count : 567
-
"oh man, it's too cold now," seungkwan sighs as he looks at the weather app on his screen. “they’ll need their bigger coat for today,” he adds and pulls out your coat from deep in the closet.
he goes ahead and takes out an outfit to change into for a group lunch date that the two of you have today. he cleans the room up a bit too while he's at it since he doesn't have much to do around the apartment.
afterwards, seungkwan walks into the living room and finds you deep asleep on the couch. you have a small blanket around you and two of the couch pillows under your head.
he walks over to you and sits down next to you. he doesn't want to wake you up, but it's around lunch time, which means that you should get up so you have enough time to get ready without rushing.
"honey, time to get up," seungkwan quietly speaks. he rubs his hand on your arm, trying to wake you up as gently as possible.
you start to wake up and see seungkwan sitting next to you. however, you just snuggle and get closer to seungkwan. you're too sleepy and cozy right now. the perfect mentality to keep napping instead of getting on with your day.
"few more minutes. i promise," you say to him.
seungkwan shakes his head, "you always say that, and we both know that's a lie, honey," he says to you. "you know, you should just sleep in the room. we both know this couch isn't the greatest."
"i'm out like a light, aren't i?" you reply.
"no, you're not. you're talking to me right now," he says to you.
you grumble, "let me sleep."
seungkwan sighs before speaking again. "scoot over," he says to you. you open your eyes and raise an eyebrow at him. you hum in confusion. "i said, scoot over," he repeats.
you manage to scoot over a bit so seungkwan can lay down next to you. he lays on his side, and you cover him with some of your blanket.
"joining me in a good nap, hm?" you say to him and give him a pillow to lay on.
"my girlfriend looks lonely by herself," he replies.
you giggle, "well, thank you, baby," you say to him and lay your head in the crook of his crook of his neck. seungkwan wraps his arm around you.
"only for a little bit, alright? we'll have to hurry later," seungkwan says to you. you nod and close your eyes. you feel seungkwan kiss your head as you get comfortable again.
"i'll pick you up with seungkwan and y/n after i drop off everything. mm, okay. bye baby."
jeonghan puts his phone in his pocket and types the passcode in for the lock.
"seungkwan, y/n, i'm back," jeonghan announces when he opens the door.
when jeonghan walks into the apartment, he notices two familiar faces snoozing away on the couch. he looks at the time and chuckles, knowing his two roommates definitely aren't ready for the scheduled lunch date.
he decides to take a picture and takes his phone out. he moves a bit closer to get a good angle and takes a photo, immediately sending it to the group chat for today's lunch.
[ jeonghan ]
the group date is gonna be missing a few people today hahaha
102 notes · View notes
starryeyedwolves · 4 months ago
Text
Found in the Notes
Regulus Black was not a man who lost things. He was meticulous, organized, and borderline obsessive about keeping track of his belongings. So, when he realized his phone was missing during his lunch break at the university library, it felt like the universe had personally betrayed him. He retraced his steps, checked every table, and even asked the librarian—nothing. His phone was gone, and with it, his carefully curated playlists, his reminders, and his sanity.
Meanwhile, James Potter was having a very different kind of day. He’d been lounging on a bench near the library, sipping an overpriced iced coffee, when he spotted the sleek black phone sitting abandoned on the edge of the fountain. He picked it up, fully intending to turn it in to lost and found, but then he noticed the lock screen photo: a black cat with piercing green eyes, looking as judgmental as its owner probably was. James smirked. He knew exactly who this phone belonged to.
Regulus Black. The brooding, snarky literature major who always looked like he’d rather be anywhere else but here. James had seen him around campus—always alone, always with a book in hand, always with that faint air of disdain that made James want to ruffle his perfect hair. James had tried to strike up a conversation with him once, only to be met with a withering glare and a curt, “Do I know you?” It had been equal parts humiliating and intriguing.
Now, holding Regulus’s phone, James felt a mischievous idea forming. He unlocked it—thankfully, the passcode was embarrassingly easy to guess (1234, really?)—and opened the notes app. He typed out a quick message and saved it, grinning to himself. Then, he headed to the library, phone in hand.
When James spotted Regulus at the front desk, looking equal parts frustrated and resigned, he sauntered over with his usual confidence. “Looking for this?” he asked, holding up the phone.
Regulus turned, his gray eyes narrowing. “You,” he said flatly. “Of course it’s you.”
“Me,” James agreed, grinning. “Your knight in shining armor. Or, you know, your knight in a slightly wrinkled band tee.”
Regulus snatched the phone from him, his fingers brushing James’s for a split second. “Thank you,” he muttered, though it sounded more like an accusation than gratitude. He turned to leave, but James stopped him.
“Wait,” James said, his tone teasing. “Aren’t you going to check if I messed with it? I could’ve done anything. Stolen your secrets. Changed your contact names. Left a silly note.”
Regulus paused, his expression shifting from annoyed to suspicious. He unlocked his phone and opened the notes app. There, at the top of the list, was a new entry titled “To the Brooding Literature Major.” He opened it and read:
“Dear Regulus,
If you’re reading this, it means I’ve successfully infiltrated your phone. Don’t worry, I didn’t steal your soul (though I’m sure it’s very broody and poetic). I did, however, leave this note to remind you that you should let me buy you coffee sometime.
Yours (hopefully),
James”
Regulus stared at the screen, his lips twitching despite himself. He looked up at James, who was watching him with a hopeful, slightly nervous expression. “This is ridiculous,” Regulus said, but there was no bite in his tone.
“Is it working?” James asked, his grin widening.
Regulus sighed, but the corner of his mouth lifted in the faintest of smiles. “You’re insufferable.”
“But charming,” James added.
“Debatable,” Regulus shot back, but he was still holding the phone, still looking at the note. Finally, he tucked the phone into his pocket and met James’s gaze. “Fine. Coffee. But only because I owe you for finding my phone.”
James’s face lit up. “Really?”
“Don’t make me regret it,” Regulus said, though the smirk on his face suggested he already knew he wouldn’t.
As they walked out of the library together, James couldn’t help but feel like he’d just won something far more valuable than a lost phone. And if Regulus noticed the way James’s smile made his chest feel a little lighter, he didn’t mention it. Not yet, anyway.
67 notes · View notes
ms-demeanor · 1 year ago
Text
To explain how bad tiny bastard is about beeping: you know that tiktok with the guy trying on a dress and realizing he looks really hot, where he wanders out into the living room to tell his mom how hot he looks? There's a fire alarm low battery chirp in that tiktok; if I watch that while wearing headphones tiny bastard will get upset and go hide under the bed.
The other day large bastard called us from the hospital and one of his monitors beeped over the phone and she started pawing at me to pick her up and protect her. Our neighbor gets dialysis and a medical van picks her up twice a week and the medical van has a back-up beep that activates little critter shiver mode.
She is, generally speaking, not a nervous dog but she lived with my MiL for so long that she got secondary anxiety about beeps because my MiL used to wander around with a wearable kitchen timer around her neck and scream in surprise every time it went off.
So a low beep won't work, and I can't have a totally silent alarm with only visual cues because it will become immediately invisible to me.
Apps are a problem (phones GENERALLY are a problem for me) because my screen locks after a minute and requires a long passcode to open so interacting with apps is very heavily dependent on what can be done from the lockscreen (I can usually stop a timer from the lockscreen, but have not yet encountered an app that will let me start a different timer from the lockscreen if you know one that does that that would probably be a decent solution)
256 notes · View notes
impwerital · 2 months ago
Text
Chapter 2
---
[Bakugou’s POV]
This wasn’t his goddamn phone.
Bakugou scowled down at the device in his hand, flipping it over as if that would suddenly make it familiar. It was about the same model as his sleek, slim, definitely a newer release but it wasn’t his.
He knew the weight of his phone. The feel of the faint scratch near the corner from that villain takedown three weeks ago. The way the screen lit up when he tapped it, flashing his background—an old photo Kirishima snapped during a rooftop training session.
It wasn’t sentimental.
It just… wasn’t this.
This screen lit up with a low brightness and a lock screen of… was that a cat?
He narrowed his eyes.
No, not a cat.. a kitten. Curled up in a hoodie, pink-pawed and soft-looking,
Bakugou blinked once.
This was absolutely not his phone.
He huffed through his nose, swiping at the screen. Passcode locked, “tch,” he whispered under his breath.
He jabbed at the numbers on instinct. 0-0-0-0.
The screen unlocked instantly.
"...You’ve gotta be kidding me, this person must be a fucking dumbass” he muttered.
Who the hell used that as their passcode? What kind of dumbass security was that? Anyone could’ve guessed it. He rubbed a hand down his face, more irritated than he’d been when he got the damn patrol call this morning.
He almost locked it back out of spite but paused instead, thumb hovering over the open screen.
There weren’t any suspicious apps, nothing too flashy.
A couple of text messages at the top. Group chats. One labeled "the 3 chippetes 🎀", the other "Mom" with a heart emoji. That one made him blink.
Whatever. He wasn’t a creep.
Bakugou backed out of the screen and clicked into the phone dialer, quickly punching in his own number.
He leaned back in his office chair, arms crossed tight as he waited for it to connect. If that girl had his phone, she’d better pick up.
Ring.
Ring.
Click.
"Hello—hello? Customer Services, this is—"
The voice on the other end was muffled, rushed, and definitely not a pro-hero. It was the same girl from earlier, no doubt about it.
[Your POV]
“yes, I understand your frustration, ma’am, but please— yes, I’m still here, please hold for just one moment—hello?” You didn’t even glance at the screen when the call came in.
You’d been juggling complaint after complaint, your headset starting to dig into your ear, and your manager giving you that look from across the room.
You snatched up the ringing phone and answered out of habit. “Hello—hello? Customer Services, this is—”
There was silence for a second on the other end.
“You’re the one who ran into me this morning, right?”
You blinked. “Huh?”
“Blonde. Hoodie. You bumped into me like a damn bulldozer. Didn’t even look up.”
It took a beat. Then your brain caught up with the voice—the one from earlier this morning, gruff and irritated and kind of… deep.
“Oh my god,” you whispered, pulling the phone slightly away from your face to look at the screen. Your name was showing at the top, your own number in the contact. “Wait wait, wait. Don’t tell me this isn’t my phone?”
“No shit,” he snapped. “And this definitely ain’t mine. It’s got a cat on the screen.”
Heat crawled up your neck. “It’s a kitten, actually.”
“Whatever. I’m not carrying this thing around all day.”
You glanced around the floor, your coworkers hunched over their desks like zombies. Your manager was already glaring like she’d explode if you so much as sneezed wrong.
“I can’t leave,” you stammered. “My manager’s already on edge and I’m behind on tickets. I don’t get off until five.”
There was a pause. You could almost feel the irritation simmering through the line.
“Tch. Fine. I’ll survive with this thing for a few hours,” he muttered. “You better not have weird shit on here.”
You shouted, “I don’t!”
a coworker looked at you.
Another pause. You could hear faint city noise in the background traffic, distant voices, maybe even a bird if you weren’t imagining it.
“I’ll text you where to meet. Just don’t forget, alright?”
“I won’t, Promise.”
He hung up without saying goodbye.
rude much?
---
[Bakugou’s POV]
The rest of the day was a blur of noise and frustration.
Patrol was uneventful, but the irritation lingered like an itch under his skin. He hated not having his own phone no custom comms, no saved logs, no personal reminders.
Just this… stranger’s phone, tucked into his hoodie pocket, occasionally buzzing with messages and one suspiciously persistent spam call.
He did his route. Signed a couple autographs when he couldn’t dodge fast enough. Got coffee. Ignored three people who tried to sneak pictures.
By four-thirty, he was back near the agency, arms crossed as he leaned against a building, the phone still glowing faintly in his hand.
Still with the damn kitten wallpaper.
---
[Your POV]
By the time the clock hit five, you could feel every bone in your feet.
You peeled off your headset with a sigh, your spine aching from hunching forward for hours. A dull throb pulsed behind your eyes, and your brain was still buzzing with phantom customer voices demanding refunds and asking to speak to someone above you.
You grabbed your things and shoved your chair in, already halfway out the door when you finally remembered—
The phone.
You fished it out of your bag, blinking at the unfamiliar weight. The kitten lock screen had been replaced with a black screen and a 5% battery warning. Right. You hadn’t touched it since this morning, and now your actual phone was probably filled with texts from some pissed-off blonde guy who thought you were the worst.
You exhaled. “Great.”
Still, you made your way toward the meeting spot he’d texted you earlier: a side street near the agency, just tucked away from the worst of the crowd.
Your legs dragged with every step, and your bag felt heavier than usual. You weren’t even sure what you were going to say.
“Sorry for bumping into you?”
“Thanks for not chucking my phone into the sewer?”
You sighed again and picked up the pace, unaware that on the other side of the street, a certain explosive man was already waiting, arms crossed, scowl ready.
---
A/N: SORRY THIS IS SHORT CHAPTER! I PROMISE ILL POST MORE TMRW! idk if this is good guys nobody is giving me feedback
36 notes · View notes