#phone without sim card

[chaotic-cheese-blog]

But with my head up in the clouds I can see so much ground/And from up here, you look like ants in a row

[snow-body]

since i lost my phone (RIP) i was more on the ipad today and tried Nomad out, ... i managed something mildly ok?!??!!? before it were all just weird balls. I am not rly wiser about the program tho, just used the most basic tools available without knowing how to further adjust or add more objects.

[meeple-inc]

A small question for the employees running the blog; what's it like to work at Meeple, or even the HQ specifically if you happen to be there? Any cool workplace stories?

We do in fact work at Meeple HQ, at the MeCloud! Unfortunately, Meeple policies prohibit me from discussing anything about what happens within the workplace in detail, but I get plenty of desk space and I enjoy the presence of my coworkers!

[hummerbythesmashingpumpkins]

10 months ago I accidentally put a sim card in my phone without first putting it in the SIM card tray, like a 1000 year old idiot, and I am still facing the repercussions of this dumb ass mistake

[james-is-nasqueer]

nothing makes me angrier than two factor authentication. what do you MEAN I can't add a phone number from a different fucking country?! YOURE MY BANK

[munaeem]

How to Use Your Phone Without a SIM Card

Using Phones Without SIM Cards Structure of the PSTN The Public Switched Telephone Network (PSTN) is a circuit-switched telephone network comprising telephone lines, fiber optic cables, and switching centers. Its structure includes: Local Loops: The physical connection from the user’s phone to the local exchange. Switching Centers: Facilities that connect calls between users and route them…

[flwrstqr]

【 備考 】 STUCK WITH U ⟡ GIRLFRIEND PRIVILEGES ───𝖣𝒾𝖠𝖱𝖨𝖤𝖲 ㅤ. . 𝗂 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎

SCR𝓲PT : enhypen and their girlfriend privileges 1OOOwc. ˊᯅˋ fluff head canon ❜ fem!centered && skinship, petnames . . ARCHiVE&CLICK

다니 : i love stuck with u.. it's been my top listened song for the past month. i think i'm addicted to ariana grande TT listening to ari's music & writing = my life

LEE HEESEUNG

"no." heeseung deadpans, effortlessly shutting down jake’s request to borrow one of his hoodies. sunghoon tries next, but heeseung doesn’t even let him finish his sentence before shaking his head. “absolutely not.” the boys groan, grumbling about how selfish he is, but then you come along, blinking up at him with those pretty eyes, and suddenly, he’s a goner. “baby,” he hums, already tugging off the hoodie he’s wearing, “you cold?” he drapes it over your shoulders before you can answer, hands lingering on your waist as he leans in, voice dropping. “looks better on you anyway.” “if you want more, just say the word, love. i’ll empty my whole closet for you.” heeseung smiles. then he smirks, tilting your chin up. “told you,” he muses, thumb brushing your bottom lip, “only my pretty girl gets this privilege.”

PARK JAY

jay doesn’t think twice about it—his card is already out before you can even reach for your wallet. “babe, i got it,” he says, tone final, as he taps to pay for your meal like it’s second nature. he barely ever does this for his members, maybe on their birthdays if they beg, but for you? every time. whether it’s coffee, late-night takeout, or a whole shopping spree, jay never lets you spend a single cent when he’s around. “but jay—” you start to protest, only for him to shoot you a look before casually slipping his arm around your waist, pulling you into him. “don’t ‘but jay’ me,” he murmurs, lips brushing your temple. “just let me take care of you, okay?” and how could you say no when he’s looking at you like that—like spoiling you is the easiest, most natural thing in the world?

SIM JAKE

jake's phone is always on do-not-disturb or muting conversations—except for you. no matter where he is, what he's doing, or who he's with, the moment your name flashes on his screen, he’s answering. even if it’s three in the morning, voice thick with sleep. “baby?” he murmurs, and you hear the rustling of sheets as he sits up, already alert. “what’s wrong? you okay?” his voice is laced with concern, but there’s something else—something soft, like he’d wait all night just to hear you breathe. you don’t even have to say much; the second you sigh, he’s whispering, “i got you, sweetheart. just talk to me.” his hand instinctively reaches for where you’d usually be beside him, but when he finds nothing, he groans, already pulling on a hoodie. “stay there. i’m coming.” because when it comes to you, nothing—not time, not sleep,—gets in the way.

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon never lets anyone touch his closet—not even his members. but you? you get free pass, standing in front of his neatly arranged wardrobe as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with that soft, amused smile. “baby, not the leather pants,” he groans, watching as you hold them up with a mischievous grin. “they look so good on you, though,” you tease, stepping closer, smoothing your hands over his shoulders, adjusting the collar of his shirt. he exhales, defeated, letting you fix his hair next, his sharp eyes softening under your touch. “you really like dressing me up, huh?” he mutters, but he’s already slipping into the fit you picked. when he turns to the mirror, he huffs a small laugh. “okay, fine. you have good taste.” then, quieter, as he tugs you against him, pressing a kiss to your forehead—“but only you get to do this, got it?”

KIM SUNOO

you’re the only one who gets to take sunoo's phone without asking, stretching out on his bed while you tap away at some game or fill his gallery with blurry selfies. “baby, at least make them cute if you’re stealing my storage,” he whines, but there’s no real complaint in his voice, just fond exasperation. when you glance at him, pouting, he sighs and moves closer, gently pulling you into his arms. “here, let me help,” he murmurs, resting his chin on your shoulder, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your arm as he watches you play. and even though he’d usually never let anyone touch his screen, he doesn’t even blink when you scroll through his messages like it’s yours. because, well—so is he.

YANG JUNGWON

jungwon sits at his desk, brows furrowed, fingers flying over his keyboard, deep in concentration. anyone else would know better than to interrupt him, butyou have privileges. without hesitation, you step behind him, draping your arms over his shoulders before pressing a soft kiss to his temple. he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even pause, just hums in acknowledgment as you pepper kisses along his jaw, his cheek, the slope of his nose. “missed me today, didn't you?” he murmurs, voice laced with amusement, but he tilts his head ever so slightly, giving you more access. you giggle, cupping his face and pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead. “hmm maybe,” you tease, and he finally turns his head, letting his lips brush against your cheek. “only because your my pretty princess,” he says.

NISHIMURA RIKI

riki never lets anyone touch his hair—never. he dodges, swats hands away, glares if someone even tries. but right now, he’s sitting on the floor in front of you, his head resting against your knees as you absentmindedly run your fingers through his soft strands, twisting and braiding as a tv show plays in the background. he doesn’t say a word, just hums lightly, his body relaxed like he was made to be here, like your hands in his hair are the most natural thing in the world. when he turns his head, his lips brush against your fingers in a lazy attempt at a kiss, and you gasp. “ack—stop moving, riki! i was trying to braid your hair!” you huff, tugging a little. he only grins, eyes half-lidded as he tilts his head back into your hands. “then don’t stop,” he murmurs, voice teasing. and god, he’s so down bad, because if it’s you, he’d let you do this forever.

[cartoonistcoop]

The #ConnectingGaza campaign supplies E-Sims to people on the ground in Gaza, allowing them to circumvent internet disruption/blackout during the siege and continue connecting with the wider internet. A digital SIM card (called an e-SIMs) works the same as a physical SIM Card, providing data and SMS for a phone number. E-Sims are one of few resources that can be directly accessed without blockage by people on the ground in Gaza.

Artists will be offering art in exchange of the value of the donated e-SIMs. Visit https://cartoonist.coop/esims4gaza to learn more.

[kidssmartwatchbypixbee]

Is there a smartwatch that works without a phone?

In today's tech-savvy world, smartwatches have become an integral part of our daily lives, providing a seamless blend of convenience and connectivity. But what about our little ones? Can they enjoy the benefits of these wearable devices without the need for a smartphone? Fortunately, the answer is a resounding yes!

Kids smart watch without phones offer a range of benefits that make them an ideal choice for parents. These innovative devices not only allow kids to explore and play games but also provide a sense of security and peace of mind for parents. 

One of the key advantages of these devices is the communication options they provide. Through built-in messaging features or voice calls, parents can stay connected with their kids, ensuring they are always just a touch away.

Advantages of Smartwatches Without Phones

There are several advantages to using a smartwatch without a phone for kids:

Safety: Smartwatch with GPS tracking and SOS features can provide parents with peace of mind knowing that they can easily locate their children and respond to emergencies.

Limited screen time: Without the distractions of social media and apps, kids can focus on physical activities and enjoy other offline pursuits.

Age-appropriate features: Smartwatches for kids typically offer features tailored to their developmental needs, such as educational games, Kids fitness trackers, and sleep monitors.

Independence: Kids can feel more autonomous and responsible while still being connected to their parents.

Also Read: [How Can Kids Smart Watches Keep Your Child Protected?] Key Features to Consider

When selecting a smartwatch for kids without a phone, consider the following features:

GPS tracking: Kids Smartwatch with GPS allows parents to monitor their child's location in real-time.

SOS button: An SOS button enables kids to quickly alert their parents in case of an emergency.

Durability: Choose a smartwatch that is water-resistant and can withstand the wear and tear of everyday use.

Age-appropriate apps: Select a smartwatch with apps that are suitable for your child's age and interests.

Battery life: Ensure the smart watch has a long enough battery life to last throughout the day.

By carefully considering the features and options available, parents can choose a smartwatch that aligns with their child's needs and promotes a healthy balance between technology and real-world experiences.

The world of smartwatches for kids without phones is a game-changer for parents seeking to balance safety and independence. From educational games to SIM card functionality and parent-controlled features, these devices offer a comprehensive solution. By promoting healthy habits and providing a direct line of communication, these smartwatches empower children to explore the world while giving parents the peace of mind they deserve. Invest in the future by equipping your child with a smartwatch that truly understands their needs.

[darkbluekies]

Stupid people

Yandere!mafia!oc x reader

Summary: a number sends Silas a picture of darling that sends him into rage

Warnings: murder, mentions of NSFW, Silas lashes out towards darling, guilt, slight indication of a character asking if it was consensual (it was — the deed, not the pictures), pictures taken without permission, punching and kicking between legs

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: to clarify, the photos are taken AFTER the deed, not during!

There's only two people Silas likes enough to let them be in his office for more than asking a question — you and SIC.

“Stupid people are my favorite kind of people”, SIC says from the couch, eyes glued onto his phone. “Some idiot here tried to jump from a roof.”

“If only our enemies did that so that i didn't have to go kill them”, Silas smirks.

“Since when were we that lucky?”

A notification on his own phone caught his attention. Silas picks it up and unlocks it, seeing that the notification is from an unsaved number. He clenches his jaw. Photos. It takes a second for him to realize what — who — is in these two photos. He can recognise that back among millions. He sees that back every night, always holding it close to his chest.

“Motherfucker!” he shouts and rises from his chair in a swift.

“What?” SIC asks quickly, looking up from his screen.

Silas slams his phone down on the floor. It shatters and explodes in every direction. SIC jumps up from the couch.

“Woah, what’s going on?” he asks quickly. 

Silas can't reply. His heart is hammering in his throat. If he tries to speak, it'll jump out. His entire body is shaking. He's been mad before, but nothing compares to what he feels when you are involved.

“Silas?” SIC asks. “Sit down.”

He presses Silas down in the chair again.

“What happened?” he asks. “Give me a real fucking answer this time.”

“Some disgusting little bitch sent me photos of Y/N”,  he spits out, growing angrier by every word. “Naked, in a bed. I think you can figure out the rest yourself.”

SIC blinks. “Shit. Who?”

Silas gestures manically towards the broken phone. “I didn't write the number down before I fucking smashed it!”

“Alright. I'll take out the sim card and put it in my phone. I can find out.”

“Don't look at the photos, got that? I'm not joking. I will beat you up if I find out that you've looked at the photos.”

“Don't worry, boss, I won't.”

Silas sighs in frustration. He storms out of his office, up the stairs and throws up the door to your shared bedroom. You're nowhere to be found.

“Y/N!” he shouts angrily.

You come out of the bathroom, looking bewildered. A fear grows on your face when you realize how mad he is.

“What's wrong?” you ask quickly.

“Who the fuck have taken pics of you while having sex?!” he shouts. “Who is the low creature that has pictures of you?!”

Your eyes widen.

“What?” you ask. “Silas-”

He moves closer and you can't describe his demeanor in any other way than threatening. You stumble backwards, finally reaching the wall. Even when he's mad, he'd never do things to make you scared of him, never show you the side he shows his men and enemies. But this time, he doesn't seem to care about holding back. You get to see what everyone else sees.

“Whoever the little fucker is, I will shove that camera of his so far up his ass it'll puncture a lung, do you understand that?” Silas spits, face mere centimeters from your face. 

“Silas, I-”, you stutter.

Silas grabs the perfume standing on the shelf beside you and sends it flying across The room, breaking against the wall. You watch on in complete horror. Not even in the basement is he this violent, not around you.

Behind him, you see SIC run into the room, stopping in the doorway. He watches on with wide eyes.

“Who is it?” he spits before raising his voice. “Give me the name of the worthless little creature! I'll kill him!”

“Silas, I don't know!” you shout loudly in order to be heard over his own shouting. Tears blurry your vision as silence fills the room. “I d-don't know, I swear! I have no knowledge of a-any pictures taken of me. Please don’t be mad at me, I don’t know anything, I s-swear …”

You have wrapped your arms around yourself. You look so incredibly small. And helpless. He feels as if someone has punched him right in the stomach. He can't bring himself to shout at you. The fire in his eyes seems to blow out, leaving his eyes as dark as they should. He breathes heavily, feeling empty and painfully aware of everything around him — every little sound, movement. He finally realizes what's going on.

“Fuck”, he breathes out in a whisper and pulls you into his arms, into a tight embrace. “I'm so sorry.”

You sob into his shoulder, voice getting muffled in his white shirt. Silas hugs you as if his life depends on it.

“Baby, I didn't mean to shout at you”, he whispers. “I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at that disgusting filth. Not you, do you understand?”

He pulls you back and covers your face in apologetic kisses, caressing your cheeks and wiping your tears.

“Are you okay?” he asks, grabbing your face and forcing you to look him in the eyes.

You nod slightly and sniffle. Still shaking, but not mortified. 

“What pictures?” you ask with an unsteady voice.

Silas looks at SIC.

“Did you get the number?” he asks.

“No, I didn't have time to move over the sim card before I heard the glass shattering.”

Silas clears his throat. His ears turn red.

“Go retrieve the number and then come back”, he says.

SIC nods and walks out. Silas turns to you. He cups your cheeks and kisses your lips carefully.

“Sorry”, he says again.

“It’s … okay”, you mumble.

It doesn't seem to register for him. He has a guilty look in his black eyes.

“Silas … what pictures?” you ask again, dreading the answer yet needing to know.

“There’s nothing to worry about, I shouldn’t have told you. I will take care of it, okay?”

“You got so upset about it … something must be wrong. Have someone taken pics of me while I’ve … had sex?”

Silas can’t tell you. He knows how distraught you’ll be. 

“No, not while you had … after you were done … I don’t know”, he says. “I could have misunderstood the pictures. I broke my phone right after seeing them.” He notices how you give him an unsure gaze as he mentions his phone. “I get worked up quickly.”

You sniffle. Silas wipes your tears again and hugs you even tighter, resting his cheek on the top of your head. He feels like a complete fool, how could he slip up like that? He would never shout at you, never make you feel threatened. For fuck sake, you’re supposed to seek shelter and comfort in him!

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” Silas asks. 

“Mhm”, you mumble. “Just shaking.”

“I can tell.” His embrace tightens. “Let’s sit down, alright?”

He moves you to the bed and sits down with you beside him. 

“What have you done today?” he asks and wraps his arm around your shoulders. 

“I’ve been watching some shows”, you reply. 

“Which one?”

“Some cartoon … I don’t remember the name.”

“Do you think I’d like it?”

You give him a small smile and shake your head. “No, it’s too cheesy for you.”

Silas smiles. “What type of fucking stereotype is that? Show me and I’ll decide for myself.”

You reach for the tablet and show him a few minutes of the cartoon. He leans onto you, wrapping himself around you like a boa constrictor. 

The door opens and SIC returns with his phone in his hand. 

“Got it”, he says and walks over to the bed. “Y/N, take a look and-”

Silas slaps his hand away. 

“Are you fucking out of your mind?” he scolds him. “You’re not showing them those!”

SIC holds his phone out of Silas’s reach. 

“I am”, SIC replies.

Silas stands up. The animalistic, lredatory light is back in his eyes. You don’t doubt that he would punch him. 

“I am going to show these pictures to Y/N to confirm that they remember the sex happening”, SIC explains sharply. “Because if they don’t, we might have a worse crime on our hands.”

Silas doesn’t reply. He seems to think, and seems to consider whether he should punch the man or not. He nods in defeat. SIC gives you the phone and you take a mortified look at the two pictures. 

“Do you recognise where you are in these two pictures?” SIC asks. “Do you know when this was? Do you have memories of it?”

You look at the pictures, fearing that you’re not going to recognise the location or remember what happened … or who you were with.

“I know when and where this is”, you say. “It was five years ago. I remember it.”

“You're sure you remember it?” SIC asks.

“Yes … but I didn't know that he took pics …” 

“Okay, the fucker is dead”, Silas decides.

“What was his name?” SIC asks.

“‘Eric’ something”, you say. “I met him at a party. He was nice, or so i thought, and-”

Silas runs a hand through his black hair and sighs.

“I guess that he wasn't that nice”, you mumble.

“Pricks like that are never nice. They're just polite enough to lure people to get what they want. Who knows how many innocent people's photos he has on his hard drive?”

“Silas, can you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“If you manage to find him-”

“Not if; when.”

“When you manage to find him, give him an extra punch from me, will you?”

Silas smiles. “I'll give him tenfolds.”

Finding him is easier than the poor fellow had anticipated. Silas pities him. He's either too stupid to know who he is or has a death wish. He can't decide which one is worse.

“God, you're even uglier than i imagined”, Silas scoffs as he sees the man for the first time.

He's held up by two of his men, body pounded with punches beyond recognizable, but they've left his face untouched. That's for Silas to ruin.

“You're even uglier than your mess of a body”, he says, grabbing the man's face, tuning it carelessly. “We haven't even touched this yet. What did you gain from this? Not a lot, I see. I mean, you're here, in my basement, about to be killed. Can't say that I understand your intentions.”

“Did you like the pictures?” Eric asks, voice drowning in painful moans.

“‘Did i like the pictures?’” Silas repeats, appalled by the man's lack of remorse. “I don't need your pitiful pictures. I get the full act from whatever angle I want.”

It shouldn't make him cocky, but bragging about it always fills him with pride.

“Give me his phone”, he orders.

One of his men digs up the phone from Eric's pocket. He forces him to unlock it.

“Do you take these types of pictures often?” Silas asks, eyes narrowing as he scrolls past hundreds of women sleeping in beds. “What even are these?”

“I take a picture of the woman after our session, after she's fallen asleep”, Eric replies, “as a trophy.”

“As a-”, he cuts himself off. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Silas hits him with all his might. Eric's head shoots backwards, his neck acting like a jojo to get it back. Blood runs down from his nose.

“Delete all the pictures”, he tells SIC and gives him the phone. “From the phone, any cloud, any other hard-drive. These pictures will never be seen by anyone ever again.”

“Yes, boss”, SIC replies and takes the phone.

He disappears up the stairs. Silas turns to Eric.

“How did you get my number?” he asks. “And, when you got it, didn't you check to see who it belonged to? You're pretty stupid.”

“I just know that the number belonged to Y/N’s new boyfriend”, Eric replies.

“Husband.”

It shouldn't fill him with such pride at a moment like this, yet it does. 

“You're going to die now anyway, so it doesn't matter if I tell you my name”, Silas says. 

One of his men gives him a knife with a long shiny blade.

“Boss”, SIC says from the top of the stairs. “Y/N’s here.”

Silas hurries to give the knife back and gestures for him to hide it. 

“I’ll come upstairs”, he says. 

Before he has time to move, you've bursted past SIC. He tries to grab at you, but you're already half down the stairs.

“You absolute worthless piece of shit”, you spit.

Silas raises his eyebrows. 

Oh?

You run right over to Eric and slap him. Silas stands stunned. It takes him a few moments to gather himself and stop looking like a fool. He turns to the stairs where SIC stands, holding his hand over his face, laughing silently. He folds and has to hold onto the wall.

“How could you take such pictures?” you ask him. “What gave you the right?”

Silas grabs your shoulder to pull you away from him, but you shake him off.

“It's not like I took pics while we had sex”, Eric says, voice sounding even more painful.

Silas smirks. He can already tell that'll happen by the way your eyes widen. And he won't stop it. Won't even try to. You hit the man again and kick him between the legs. He tries to curl up, but is being held up by Silas’s men. 

“Okay, okay”, Silas says and grabs your shoulders, pulling you backwards. “Enough of that. SIC, take Y/N to the bedroom and make sure they stay there.”

SIC grabs you out of his arms. Silas grabs the knife once more. 

“What should we start with?” he asks, spinning the knife. “Your hands? Arms? Legs? Decide, coward.”

SIC forces you upstairs before he has the time to cut off any body parts.

“Let me go!” you mutter. 

“Just stay quiet until we get up to the bedroom”, SIC says. “Nice shot you got, by the way. I know it caught Silas by surprise. That’s hard to do, you know.”

“He deserves more.”

“And Silas will give him that, don’t you worry. That is not your job. You got two punches and one kick in, that’s enough.”

WHen you try to run back downstairs, he picks you up over his shoulder and continues upstairs. 

“Don’t give me more trouble”, he sighs. 

SIC walks into the bedroom and places you down on the floor before barricading the door with his body to make sure you’re not making a run for it. 

“The pictures are gone”, SIC says. “All of them — of you and of other people.”

“How many were there?”

“Hundreds. All taken when they had fallen asleep afterwards. He kept them like trophies.”

The door opens before he’s done with his sentence. Silas walks in, finally looking pleased. 

“Dona already?” SIC asks. 

“I got impatient”, he mutters and closes the door. “Little thing, are you okay?”

You nod. Silas hugs you, kissing the top of your head. He still feels awful about shouting at you. He squeezes you even tighter. 

“Thank you”, you say quietly. “You helped not only me but also a lot of other people. That’s a good thing.”

His heart clenches. He has apologized a million times and you have forgiven him … but he can’t seem to forgive himself. It all happened so quickly, yet it lingers in him. 

“Of course”, he says. “Scumbags need to be taken care of the right way. I kind of pitied the man. He must have been extremely stupid to let me know about him. Good that he was stupid though.”

Thinking about him makes him furious once more, but he reminds himself that it’s over. He has gotten his punishment … and Silas has saved people. Innocent people should never be punished for crimes they didn’t commit.

No one will ever see any those pictures again. No one will have to deal with that man ever again. 

[hai7ani]

a final piece to tachibana / link to previous

Haitani Rindou, Me and My Husband

Haitani Rindou is 28, an ex-felon, and he has no idea what the other guys his age do, other than stare at a wall and wank all day like the idiot from his cell does. He's tried so hard fantasising, and yet he still can't imagine a life of actually having consistent daily, weekly routines. When he's out and he witnesses the rush of modern day Tokyo where everyone's constantly in a hurry to get to somewhere, he can't help but question just where in the world are they going, and what in the hell are they rushing to do. Work? Are they that devoted to their job? Meeting a friend? Are they really that important?

He's spent the last 8 years of his life stirring soup and boiling rice in a kitchen that earns him about ¥500 per month, sweep fallen leaves during autumn while witnessing fights break out between inmates at the yard, and work out in the mini gym of a prison.

Now that he's out and he's staying with you at your place out of your own wallet where you've also bought him a phone with a functioning sim card, some warmer clothes to wear and laze around in, and pay for all the things in the house despite him having a job as well that pays more than what he's used to earn, he feels awfully bad. He stares at the digits in his bank account as he rubs at his nape.

For the first time in his life, Haitani Rindou has no clue what to do with himself.

You work a nice paying job in corporate 一 a result of your endless hard work, a desperate yet successful attempt to break free from your past 一 and at night he refills the vending machines that you and your co-workers empty during the day.

He's aware that the current gap between the two of you is big 一 it's extreme. He hates that he isn't able to provide more for the two of you at home other than doing simple laundry or sweeping the floor while you're away at work. He knows how to cook a little (simple recipes that the inmates eat daily, but he knows you won't like the food, because you weren't an inmate), but not full-on meals that you usually make and leave in the warmer for him when he finally gets home to eat.

He thinks about who he was before his time in prison and he doesn't recognise that boy anymore. An extremely outgoing party boy who rebels, fights and drifts when the sun is down, and an ex-felon who works about 4 hours per night refilling vending machines that people like his past-self vandalise and abuse just for the fun of it 一 those are 2 different people living 2 different lives, from 2 different universes.

Tonight, when the moon is up and he's got you in his arms 一 all warm and tucked in while you snore in his ear 一 he thinks about just what can he do for you to make you happier. He's aware he won't be able to provide much financially 一 not right now at least, and he's not a great communicator as well. He isn't confident he can always get his point across without having it sound like he means an entirely different thing. He has spent more time away from you than with you, after all.

And he hates to say it because he thinks he's in no position to do so, but the two of you are a bit complicated. You're childhood sweethearts who come from the same hometown and grew up together, he's the one who committed a crime, got sent in, and you were left yearning for him on the outside. He's the one who's made love to you before, and it is also his fault that the two of you are like this right now. You're kissy and touchy, he sleeps shirtless and you sleep in just panties, but you don't have a label to your relationship. He doesn't see you as a friend 一 he sees you as his world, but if he were to introduce you to another person, does he call you his friend?

He doesn't know how to make it better, but you always seem to make it feel like everything's alright when you'd knock on the bathroom door and offer to help him shave or give his hair a trim. He thinks the two of you are doing fine, but then his mind shifts to the therapist note you'd obviously accidentally left sitting on the dining table one morning and his heart aches.

You haven't been doing well lately. Recently. Frequently. For many, many years, you haven't been okay. He wonders if you have always smiled this often around other people 一 when he was still in prison, or before you were able to see each other again after years of lost contact 一 because you're always grinning ear to ear when you'd cling onto him in bed or straddle him on the couch while plucking his eyebrows as he hisses in pain.

But when you shift a little in bed and snuggle your nose deeper into his neck and sigh, the tightening in his chest softens a little. Your alarm's going to ring in about 5 minutes and he switches it off before it can. He spends the rest of your time rubbing your back, waking you up gently as he gives you some time to adjust to opening your eyes. He hates that you always seem to jolt awake when the alarm rings, as if it scares you a lot. It's almost the same reaction he's seen in you when you were younger and would hide against a raised fist. He doesn't want you to feel like that anymore. He went away for this exact reason and all he wants to do is to hide you away from fear.

And as you stare up at him, eyes half-lidded and cloudy, it's as if the colour of your irises are hypnotising him with words 一 whispering it in his ear as they ask, "do you still not see it?"

He does. He sees it now.

All the doubts and worries in his head swiftly vanishes and it all makes sense now 一 why you still choose to be with him despite everything that's happened to your lives, why you still seem to care so much for him.

The love in your eyes evident, as you smile softly while the sun slowly rises above the horizon, and he settles.

You love him just as much as he loves you.

All you've ever needed was him. Just him. Your Rindou.

He's got nothing else to worry about now 一 he's got the world in his arms. Even if it'll take him years to adjust to his new life, he'll be doing it with you.

Perhaps today he'll take the time to bake you your all-time favourite chocolate chip muffins 一 he'll run to the store to get the ingredients and maybe pass by the jeweller, browsing.

He wonders if the numbers in his bank account would be enough to buy him a ring, but he'll have to get the size of your finger first, right?

tachibana's tldr (TW!): you and rin were childhood friends, you were abused growing up, rindou killed your abuser and went to jail for it but you never found out until ran told you so you think he's been mia all this while when he's actually in jail

tachibana is officially discontinued, but i didn't want to leave it hanging because i cherish the story a lot (it just wasn't well-planned), so here's a final piece to wrap up the story 🤍

[dreaming-of-tae]

♡ yandere!straykids

➜ 1/2/3 . gn!reader

ch : bangchan . leeknow . changbin . hyunjin . han . felix . seungmin . i.n

warnings :

[﹒notes] - I've been craving more yandere!straykids posts recently, and suffering due to the lack of there of... so I decided to make it myself! Also this is super inspired by "Super Psycho Love" By Simon Curtis, if you haven't listened to it- I'd recommend it! It's prob my fav song to write to.

Bang Chan (방찬)

The illusion of safety was his most potent weapon.

Bang Chan was warm. That was how it always began. He wore the kind of smile that made you feel seen, important. His eyes were soft, filled with a kind of compassion that pulled people in. He was the type to check if you’d eaten, send goodnight texts, and remember small details you didn’t even know you’d shared. You felt lucky. Blessed.

And then it started.

It was subtle at first—Chan’s protectiveness. A comment about how your friend always called too late. A suggestion to quit that night job because he “worried about you walking alone.” You brushed it off as care.

But you didn’t know Chan had cameras installed. You didn’t see the moment he sat in the dark, watching you sleep from the feed on his laptop. His hand clenched around a mug as you laughed on the phone with a coworker he didn't approve of. He told himself it was for your safety. The world was dangerous. People were liars. But he wasn’t.

He was the one who stayed. Who listened.

When you tried to pull away, things unraveled quickly. Your phone wouldn't connect to Wi-Fi anymore. Apps kept crashing. Your location mysteriously disappeared from friends’ phones. And Chan? He showed up at your door minutes after any attempt to leave, saying he “just had a feeling something was wrong.”

You realized then: he always knew where you were. Always.

“You don’t understand,” he’d whisper, voice trembling with emotion. “I’m doing this for us. The world doesn’t deserve you. They’ll ruin you.”

His apartment became your world. He made it cozy—blankets, books, your favorite snacks stocked weekly. He played your favorite music as he cooked. He smiled so lovingly it made you doubt your fear. But the locks were on the outside. And your phone, when returned, had no SIM card.

He kissed your forehead every night like a savior, his fingers stroking your hair as he whispered, “You’re safe now. With me.”

Was it safety? Or a cage painted gold?

Chan didn’t hurt you—not directly. But you weren’t free. He made himself your everything, until you couldn’t remember who you were without him.

And that was exactly what he wanted.

Lee Know (리노)

Lee Know was colder—aloof, distant, unknowable. He didn’t smile often, didn’t speak unless he had to. But when he looked at you, really looked at you, it was as if no one else in the world existed. You were a secret he kept tucked behind sharp eyes and a sharper tongue.

He never said he loved you. Not with words.

Instead, it was in the silence that stretched between you as he fixed your collar. In the way he stood between you and strangers. In how he watched—never touched, never demanded, just observed.

You thought it was harmless.

Until the night your ex showed up, drunk and yelling. He vanished the next day. The police found the man’s car parked at the edge of a bridge. Suicide, they said.

You knew better.

Minho didn’t deny it. He just looked at you and said, “Now you don’t have to be scared anymore.”

You weren’t scared of your ex.

You were scared of him.

Still, he didn’t force affection. No kisses, no touches—unless you initiated. That was the trap. He gave you the illusion of choice. But he was always there, just behind the curtain, watching.

When you talked to someone too long, their tires slashed. A coworker got transferred mysteriously. Your parents started receiving anonymous emails filled with half-truths and veiled threats, until they begged you to cut contact "for everyone's safety."

You confronted Minho, tears in your eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

He didn’t raise his voice.

“I’m not doing anything,” he said, brushing lint from your sleeve. “I’m fixing what’s broken. I’m removing distractions. I’m making room for us.”

“You can’t control my life.”

His eyes finally met yours. Cold. Flat. Unapologetic.

“I already do.”

Then, as if nothing had happened, he turned away and returned to feeding his cats. That was Minho’s cruelty—effortless, surgical. He didn’t need chains. You were already bound by fear, isolation, and the quiet terror that he would never let you go. Not ever.

And if he couldn't have you—truly have you—he’d destroy everything else. Every friend. Every plan. Every part of your life not attached to him.

He would either be your everything.

Or nothing would remain.

Changbin (창빈)

Changbin had always been intense. From the moment you met him, you felt the power in his presence—his voice, the way his eyes focused on you when you spoke, the way his shoulders tensed when someone looked at you the wrong way. He wasn’t the type to let things go. And when it came to you, he couldn’t ever let go.

He cared about you deeply. You knew that. He would do anything for you, always asking how your day was, offering his help, pulling you into tight, protective embraces. But underneath all of that was something darker—something that began to emerge once he realized you were everything he had ever needed.

It started slowly. One day, you noticed that you had missed a few texts. Changbin asked you if everything was okay, voice dripping with concern. "You didn't answer my messages for hours. Are you mad at me? Did something happen?" His gaze was unsettling, demanding a response—your response.

It was just a coincidence, you thought. But over time, the small incidents piled up. Your friends started to act... differently around you. They'd whisper when Changbin wasn’t around, give you strange looks, and avoid hanging out as much. It didn’t take long to realize that Changbin had been intervening in subtle ways. A rumor here, a misplaced message there, and soon, your social life dwindled to nothing.

One night, you tried to leave his apartment. You’d had enough. The control, the surveillance, the way he would watch you like a hawk when you spoke to anyone else—it was too much. But as soon as you reached the door, Changbin’s voice echoed from behind you, low, full of danger.

“Where are you going?”

You froze, your hand hovering over the handle, heart racing. You didn’t have an answer.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said, his voice breaking. “I can’t let you go. You don’t understand. I can’t live without you. Don’t you get it?”

He walked toward you slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. You tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go. Changbin’s hands were on your shoulders, pulling you to him with surprising strength. His lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “I love you too much to let you ruin yourself. You’re mine. And no one else is going to take you from me.”

You had seen the violent side of Changbin before—his temper in moments of frustration, his rough, passionate outbursts when things didn’t go his way—but this... this was something else. The hunger in his eyes, the desperation in his voice—it was terrifying. He was breaking apart in front of you, and you realized then that he wasn’t going to let you leave. Ever.

Changbin didn’t hurt you—not physically. But the emotional manipulation was suffocating. Every day, you’d wake up to him checking your phone, asking about your plans, demanding to know who you were talking to. He’d track your every movement with precision, claiming he just wanted to protect you.

“You don't know how dangerous the world is," he'd say. "I’ll keep you safe. I'll never let anything happen to you. We’re meant to be together.”

And little by little, you found yourself drawn in, caught in the web of his affection and his threats. You weren’t sure anymore if you loved him—or if you were just too scared to leave.

Changbin was your protector. Your everything.

And now you were his prisoner.

Hyunjin (현진)

Hyunjin was beautiful. Everyone knew that. His striking features, his flawless skin, his flawless grace—it was impossible not to admire him. But it wasn’t just his looks that made you fall. It was his presence. The way he made you feel important, as if no one else in the room mattered. His attention was magnetic. His praise made you glow.

But like all things too perfect, there was a hidden cost.

From the start, Hyunjin made it clear how much he adored you. The little compliments. The soft touches. He would always ask how your day went, his eyes gleaming with interest, his voice smooth like velvet. At first, you thought it was sweet, even charming. But the more you got to know him, the more you realized that his attention wasn’t just affection—it was possessiveness in disguise.

At first, it seemed harmless. He asked for your schedule, just wanting to “make sure we had time to hang out.” He’d memorize every little detail about your likes, dislikes, even your habits. If you mentioned something you needed to buy, he’d get it for you, the next day, without fail. But then, he started to control the details of your life, too.

“You’re not going to that party,” he said one night, his tone more final than you’d ever heard. “There are too many people. They’ll want to take you from me.”

You protested, but his grip on your wrist was firm, and his eyes—those eyes—looked at you with a cold certainty. He didn’t see a partner. He saw something that belonged to him. And if you didn’t understand that, he was more than willing to remind you.

Every time you interacted with someone else, whether it was a friend, a coworker, or even a stranger, Hyunjin made it clear just how much it hurt him. He’d give you the silent treatment for days, his eyes clouded with jealousy, until you apologized, acknowledged him, and begged him to forgive you.

The breaking point came when you tried to leave him for good.

You had gathered your things, ready to move out. You couldn’t take it anymore. The watching. The whispering. The quiet threats veiled as “concerns” for your well-being. Hyunjin wouldn’t let you leave, though.

He showed up at your door, his face unreadable. “You think you can leave me?” he asked, his voice eerily calm.

You turned to face him, heart pounding. “You’re crazy. This isn’t love. This is control. I can’t live like this.”

Hyunjin stepped inside, closing the door with a soft click. His gaze was icy. “You don’t understand. I’m perfect for you. No one else will love you like I do. No one will appreciate you like I do.”

You backed away, but there was nowhere to go. Hyunjin’s hand reached out to stop you. “You can’t leave me. You don’t get to leave me. I’ve given you everything. And in return, you owe me your love. Your loyalty.”

His voice softened as he moved closer, his hand brushing your cheek. “I’ll do anything for you. I’ll keep you safe. But if you try to leave... I won’t let you.”

In that moment, you knew there was no escape. His love was all-consuming, a beautiful prison wrapped in the facade of perfection. He wanted you, and there was no room for anyone else.

Hyunjin smiled, and you felt the world close in. He wasn’t going to let you go. Not now. Not ever.

Han (한)

Han’s charm was impossible to ignore. His laughter was contagious, and his smile lit up every room. He was kind, soft-spoken, and had an uncanny ability to make you feel like the most important person in his world. It was the way he listened—really listened to you. The way he remembered the smallest details and wove them into casual conversations, making you feel like you were his everything.

At first, you were drawn to his warmth. Han wasn’t the type to push boundaries or demand your time; instead, he made you want to spend it with him. But there was something about him—something that felt too consuming, too deep, like he needed you more than you realized.

The first red flag appeared when he started to show up everywhere. At first, it was sweet. He’d “accidentally” run into you at a coffee shop you liked or at a park you often walked through. But then it became routine.

You would walk to work, and there he was, leaning against a lamppost, a smile playing on his lips. "Fancy meeting you here," he’d say, but his eyes always lingered just a little too long on you.

His texts were frequent, almost constant. At first, you thought it was cute—he was just excited to hear from you. But when your responses slowed down, he started to grow anxious. The messages turned from casual to desperate.

“Where are you? I’ve been thinking about you all day. Please text me back, I miss you.”

One night, when you were out with friends, Han showed up unannounced. His eyes, usually soft and inviting, were now dark, intense. He didn’t smile when he saw you. Instead, there was a coldness, a look that made your stomach drop.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going out tonight?” Han’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, like he was trying to control the anger simmering beneath the surface.

Before you could respond, he pulled you aside, away from your friends, his grip tight on your wrist. “I don’t like it when you’re with other people. You belong with me, don’t you?” His voice was low, almost a growl, and you could feel the weight of his words suffocating you.

You tried to shake him off, but his fingers were like chains, and his eyes… they were no longer the playful, kind eyes you remembered. They were filled with possessiveness, dark and heavy. “I’ve been so patient,” Han continued, his voice barely above a whisper, “but you don’t understand. I need you. More than anything. No one else can have you. You’re mine.”

The way he said it—it wasn’t a request, it wasn’t a plea. It was a declaration.

That night, you tried to leave. You couldn’t stand the way he controlled every part of your life, how he knew where you were at all times, how he would show up uninvited, his presence always hanging over you.

But Han wouldn’t let you go.

He found ways to manipulate your reality. The next day, you went to check your phone and found it full of missed calls and messages. There was no way he could have known where you were, what you’d done, but it felt as though he was always one step ahead. Every time you tried to step away, every time you tried to create space, he filled it.

Han’s obsession was like a song you couldn’t escape—repeating over and over in your mind, his words lingering in every thought. “You’re mine,” he would say with a smile, the same smile that once made you feel safe, now twisted with control.

He didn’t hurt you. No. He didn’t need to. His love was the hurt. His constant surveillance, his suffocating affection—it was all meant to keep you close. And as the days passed, you found yourself wondering if there was any escape from him. After all, Han had given you everything, hadn’t he?

He would never let you go.

And somehow, that made you feel both terrified and… trapped.

Felix (필릭스)

Felix had always been the bright, charming one. His voice, so sweet and sincere, made everything feel light and effortless. He was a breath of fresh air, and his affection for you felt so genuine that it was hard to believe anyone could be more loving or caring.

When you first met Felix, it was like a whirlwind of laughter and warmth. He showered you with attention, always wanting to be by your side, asking about your day, your dreams, your worries. He seemed perfect—too perfect.

But perfection always hides something darker.

As time passed, Felix’s affection started to feel overwhelming. He never wanted you to be far away, never wanted you to spend time with anyone but him. At first, you didn’t think much of it. He was just loving, right? He just wanted to be close to you.

But when you went out with friends, you could see the way his smile would falter when he saw you laughing with someone else. His eyes, once warm and inviting, would flash with something darker, something possessive. You chalked it up to jealousy, but when he confronted you about it, you realized just how much it controlled him.

“I don’t want anyone else near you,” Felix confessed one night, his voice trembling with a mix of passion and fear. “I can’t stand it. It’s like they’re taking you away from me.”

It was then you realized—Felix wasn’t just in love with you. He was obsessed with you.

The more you distanced yourself, the more he clung to you. He knew where you were at all times. You could never make plans without him knowing. If you tried to leave, he would show up, his eyes wide and pleading. “Please don’t go. You’re the only one I need. Don’t make me lose you.”

One day, when you were alone at home, you saw him standing outside your window, his face pressed against the glass, his eyes unblinking. His presence made your heart race with anxiety, but his face, filled with an eerie calmness, told you everything. Felix didn’t just want you in his life—he needed you. And if you weren’t with him, he would find a way to make sure you were.

The phone calls grew incessant, the messages more frantic. If you didn’t reply immediately, he would send more, until your screen was flooded with them.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be this way… but I can’t help it. I need you. Please. I love you.”

And then the “accidents” started. Your car breaking down. A flat tire when you were on your way to meet someone. Every time you tried to do something without him, something went wrong. And Felix? He would show up, as if by coincidence, to “help.”

“You know I’ll always be there for you,” he’d say, brushing his hair out of his eyes as if nothing had happened.

But you knew. He was manipulating you, controlling you, ensuring that no matter where you went, no matter who you tried to talk to, you’d always come back to him.

Felix loved you. And that love? It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t gentle—it was suffocating. He would never let you go, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to anymore. His love had twisted into something darker, and now you were trapped in it.

Felix’s smile never wavered, his hands never let go. “I’m the only one who can love you like this,” he’d whisper, his voice low, and you realized... he was right.

Seungmin (승민)

Seungmin had always been the calm one. His voice, soft and melodic, was a contrast to the louder personalities around him. He was dependable, steady, and always there when you needed him, like the quiet rain that softly nurtures the earth without ever demanding attention. At first, it was his gentleness that drew you in—the way he would always ask how your day was, his concern never overbearing but deeply felt.

But beneath his calm demeanor, there was a growing hunger.

The first time Seungmin’s obsession showed itself was subtle. He started showing up at your favorite places. You’d mention in passing that you liked a certain café, and the next time you went there, Seungmin was already sitting at a table, waiting for you with a warm smile, as if he’d been there for hours. It felt sweet, at first—he was just thinking of you. But soon, the appearances became more frequent. You’d be walking home from work, and there he was, leaning against a lamppost, his gaze immediately seeking yours as soon as you turned the corner.

You tried to brush it off as coincidence, but it became clear that Seungmin was always there.

He’d know where you were, even when you hadn’t told him. "I was just thinking of you," he’d say, smiling with a slight edge to his voice. You didn’t know why, but there was something unsettling about how perfect his timing was. The way he always seemed to be in the right place at the right time.

One evening, when you tried to spend time with friends, you felt a sudden pang of unease when you noticed Seungmin in the distance, standing by the door, watching. His eyes were locked onto you, not with the warmth you were used to, but with something darker—a hint of desperation. You excused yourself to take a break, but when you stepped outside, Seungmin was already there, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed tightly.

"Why didn’t you tell me you were going out tonight?" he asked, his voice eerily calm, but the tightness around his mouth made it clear that he wasn’t asking out of concern—he was demanding an answer.

You tried to explain, but his expression didn’t soften. He wasn’t angry, but there was something unnerving in his stillness.

"You don’t need to see them. You don’t need anyone else. You’ve always had me, haven’t you?" He took a step toward you, the distance between you closing with each heartbeat. "I’ll always be here. They won’t care about you the way I do. You don’t need them. You only need me."

There was an unsettling finality in his words. A quiet, obsessive certainty.

After that, things began to escalate. Seungmin started showing up at your apartment uninvited, his face always masked with a smile, as if everything was fine. But his eyes—those eyes that used to be so warm—were now cold and calculating, always watching, always waiting for the right moment to slip in closer.

His love was suffocating. It wasn’t loving. It was possessive, controlling, and manipulative. He would check your phone when you weren’t around, “accidentally” showing up to events you hadn’t mentioned, and always made sure you couldn’t spend time with anyone else. You were his.

"Don’t you trust me?" Seungmin asked one night, sitting on your couch as you tried to keep your distance. His voice was soft, but his eyes, wide and unblinking, made it clear he wasn’t leaving until you gave him the answer he wanted. “I know what’s best for you. They don’t understand you like I do.”

When you tried to get away, he’d insist, his tone low and gentle, "I’m just trying to protect you. The world is too dangerous. You can’t trust anyone but me."

And the worst part? You believed him.

There was no escaping Seungmin. He wouldn’t let you leave, wouldn’t let you breathe without him hovering. His devotion became your prison, and now, you weren’t sure if you ever wanted to leave. You couldn’t. Not with him watching you like that.

I.N (아이엔)

Jeongin had always been sweet, almost childlike in his approach to life. His soft voice and bright eyes were a balm to anyone feeling the weight of the world. He was the one who laughed easily, who made the effort to check on everyone around him, and who always seemed to put others first. You’d seen him around, always with that warm smile and the promise of kindness.

But as you got closer, you began to notice something else beneath that sweetness. Something more dangerous.

At first, Jeongin’s interest in you was innocent—almost too innocent. He’d ask how you were doing, how your day had been, always wanting to be the one to cheer you up when you were down. He’d bring you your favorite snacks, surprise you with small gifts, and always make sure you knew he was thinking of you.

But it wasn’t just kindness anymore. It was dependence.

One evening, you mentioned wanting to take a weekend trip, to get away from everything for a bit. The moment the words left your lips, you saw Jeongin’s face fall, his eyes dimming for the first time. It was a subtle shift, but it was there. He tried to hide it with a smile, but you could see the hurt in his eyes, the way his fingers gripped his phone a little too tightly as he nodded.

“Maybe I could go with you?” he asked, voice soft, almost pleading.

You hesitated, unsure of how to respond. It seemed innocent enough, but the more you tried to back out of the idea, the more persistent he became. It was the first time you saw him truly need something.

The next day, you tried to cancel the trip. But when you opened your door, Jeongin was standing there, looking at you with those wide, innocent eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be too forward,” he said softly, his hands twisting nervously. “But I… I just don’t want to be apart from you. I can’t be.”

His voice was a whisper, but it carried an unspoken weight.

“I just want to be with you. Please. We can have fun together. It’ll be just you and me.”

You knew something was wrong when you saw the obsessive look in his eyes. The way he was clinging to you, how he never wanted to let go, how every word he said felt more like a demand than a request. But you couldn’t find the strength to push him away.

He began to manipulate you in small ways. If you tried to hang out with someone else, you’d find yourself receiving messages from Jeongin, sometimes hourly, always filled with things like:

“I miss you.” “Are you with someone else?” “I was thinking of you. I hope you’re not too busy for me.”

It became impossible to escape. Jeongin’s presence was always there, a constant. He was in your thoughts, in your texts, in every part of your day. And the more you tried to distance yourself, the more he would show up, acting innocent, acting like the boy who just wanted to be with you.

“Don’t you love me?” he asked one night, his voice cracking as he stood in front of you, his eyes wide with pleading desperation. "I can’t live without you."

He wasn’t asking for your love. He was demanding it. Needing it.

The world around you faded as Jeongin slowly, gently, began to consume you. His obsession was wrapped in the guise of affection, wrapped in smiles and kindness—but it was clear now. His love wasn’t a gift. It was a trap.

He wouldn’t let you go. He couldn’t.

And you realized with a sinking heart that you didn’t know if you ever wanted to escape, either.

[tyunni]

┈➤ I LIKE YOU SO MUCH!!! (when ENHYPEN like you...)

enhypen masterlist | library

genre: fluff, fluff, fluff! warnings: i'm not sure if any specific gender is mentioned but keep in mind i do tend to usually write fem!reader, enha r kinda losers, mentions of being drunk in jakes part, isnt proofread so if you see any mistakes.... oh well! wc: 2.6k+

a/n: good lord, i haven't written anything in MONTHS so i'm a bit rusty 😭 i started writing maknae line first im p sure you can tell i put more effort in them and then i started getting tired, sorry😭😭😭

☆ — LEE HEESEUNG

who would've thought the cool, the chill, the awesome lee heeseung would end up being such a loser. a lovestruck, foolishly in love loser.

your fingers lightly grazed his hand when you walked past him in the hallway today, a touch that lasted a mere second, yet heeseung's heart exploded, and so did his friends' group chat when he boasted about your interaction like you had just asked his hand in marriage. he knows being lovesick is lame, but so what?! he can't help that he melts into a pink puddle of adoration whenever you make small talk, or when he closes his eyes an image of you pops into his head and makes his palms feel sweaty. yes, he feels his knees go weak at the mere mention of your name, and he's willing to endure his younger friends teasing him every time they spot you hanging out with your own group of friends.

so what if you're the only thing on his mind every second of his day. it's completely normal to make playlists for your crush, giggle, and roll around in your bed when you let the lyrics sink in and fill your head with the thoughts of the one you desire.

it's also totally normal of him to write down little compliments on a piece of paper and put them on your desk when you're not looking. he giggles like a little girl when you open the note and read not even a third fraction of what heeseung truly thinks of you and wishes to tell you one day. his smile grows wider when you finally read the initials written on the note, LHS, and you look over to his desk with your cheeks dusted pink, widened eyes looking into heeseung's.

(rest of the members under the cut!!)

☆ — PARK JONGSEONG

jay is very fond of you, he accepted that quite quickly. you're cute. he likes cute stuff, that's something new he has discovered since he started to fancy you.

"jay, are you serious?" - riki turned towards the older with a blank face, tired of his friends new shopping addiction, - "you have like 4 hello kitty stuffed toys in your bedroom, you don't need another one."

ah, innocent, naive riki. he doesn't know having a crush makes one forget about any form of rationality and make every decision without giving it another thought. jay is the number one victim of the 'everything reminds me of them' disease, he feels every wrinkle of his brain smoothen whenever he thinks of you, so it's not a surprise that he can't control his hand as he swipes his credit card and buys himself another plushie with a lovestruck grin on his face.

"are you even listening to me?" - the younger complains, jabbing jay's arm with his elbow to get at least a little reaction out of him. if anything else but you were on jay's mind this would've worked and he would've scolded riki by now, talking his ear off about how annoying he is, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes at his childishness. but it doesn't work.

"you're such a cheeseball, y/n has made you soft, jay, she's ruining you!"

but riki's words fall on deaf ears the second jay's eyes land on another cute stuffed animal that had reminded him of you as he grabs his friend's arm roughly and drags him into yet another store.

☆ — SIM JAEYUN

oh, he's down bad. jake would do anything for you. yes, even walking all the way from his house to the party you were at just to pick you up and walk you home, making sure you reach your house safely.

you called him in the middle of the night, the buzzing of his phone waking jake up. he groaned at the brightness of his screen flashing his newly opened eyes, yet at the sight of your name he rubbed the sleepiness off them, quickly picking up your call.

"jake, i'm drunk!"

and that's all it took for him to jump out of his bed and run towards his destination. surely enough you were waiting outside for him, a big smile growing on your face at the sight of him.

sure, he was extremely tired and out of breath, his voice was still groggy from waking up around 10 minutes ago, the cold, chilly night yet to have its effect on him and wake him up completely, yet he still let you ride on his back when you started complaining about how your heels hurt your feet.

you had been talking to him about something, even though you had no idea what you were saying with the way your words were slurred, your voice muffled by his jacket. jake was nodding his head, humming after a few sentences to make sure you knew he was listening, even though he didn't know what he was listening to. you started off by talking about the party, and somewhere along the way you got lost in your own words and so did jake. his soft hums and the steady rhythm of his feet lulled you to sleep, and when he felt your eyelashes close against the nape of his neck, your breath falling onto his skin as your cheek rested further upon his shoulder is when he finally let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head, stopping in his tracks to close his eyes and think to himself:

"fuck, i love her, don't i?"

☆ — PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon is desperately in love with you. he can't help it, butterflies swarm his stomach when he thinks about you, a sheepish grin makes its way onto his features when you talk to him, his eyes dart across your face every chance he gets so he can burn every second spent with you right into his memory.

"sunghoon, do you think this looks good or should i try on the blue sweater?"

to be completely honest, even if you wore a trash bag he'd think you looked gorgeous, and he hadn't been paying attention to any outfit you had shown him so far, your smile which grew wider with each compliment he gave you the only thing on his mind.

"you look beautiful, y/n."

"oh, come on, sunghoon! you've been telling me this about every outfit!" - you groan, yet a grin is still plastered on your face at his sweet words, "you have to help me!"

sunghoon tries, he really tries to hold himself back. his teeth sink into his tongue in hopes of biting back the words that were about to slip out, yet they still do. and so does his little secret.

"it's not my fault i'm in love with you!"

☆ — KIM SUNOO

sunoo is a sweet guy. everyone likes him: the teachers, the students, his friends, and complete strangers. his smile is contagious, his face is soft and beautiful, his eyes crinkle up when he smiles, and he's kind, helpful, friendly. who wouldn't like him? well, you, apparently.

it's not that he's intrigued by your cold attitude towards him, he's simply determined to make you like him just like everyone else. it's quite difficult to get to know you though, you don't speak to anyone except a select few. if your friends don't come to school you usually sit alone, either mindlessly scribbling in your notebook, or sleeping. you always have that look on your face. one of pure boredom, uninterest, that "why are you even talking to me" face.

sunoo thinks it's stupid. how could you not be thrilled to talk to the people around you? how is it even possible to not want to get to know everyone, to grow your circle, have new people to talk to and share experiences with.

you know who sunoo is. everyone knows who sunoo is. when he walks past you down the hallway he's always waving at someone, stopping in his tracks a few times to have a little small talk, then quickly picking up his pace once the bell rings so he gets to make it in time for class. it doesn't matter if he's late though, the teachers adore him like he's their own son, and he hasn't gotten a single second of detention. sunoo has the sunshine privilege. that's unfair. you don't like when things are unfair. you don't like the sunshine privilege. you don't like sunoo.

so you avoid him.

but he somehow still finds his way back to you.

"she totally hates you, dude, get over it," - sunghoon groans, shoving another loaf of bread into his mouth, and threatening to shove some into sunoo's mouth so he stops talking about you for the fifth time today.

"but why?! i didn't even do anything to her, i tried talking to her every single day since she moved here, i'm nice, i'm helpful, i'm a great guy, what am i doing wrong?!" - the younger boy whines into his palms, head buried in his hands, trying to come up with a way to win you over.

one of his other friends chimes into the conversation, taking a seat in between his friends and playfully wrapping his arm around sunoo, - "it's okay, man, there must be a way to get your little crush to like you!"

sunoo whips his head towards the boy, eyebrows furrowed so deeply that you'd think they'd merge into one another any second. - "heeseung, it's not a crush!"

sunghoon chuckles at his oblivious friend, - "is too!"

"... is it?"

you are kinda cute. your attitude, although not sunoo's style, makes you look even more adorable. you have pretty lips too, although you're always frowning. he thinks you'd look better with the corners of your lips turned upwards though. he wants to see you smile. he wants to make you smile. he wants to make you his.

☆ — YANG JUNGWON

jungwon thinks he's a pretty chill guy. he's always been levelheaded. most of the time he's the only levelheaded person in the room, to be completely honest. he knows what to say and when to say it. although he resembles a cat, the saying "cat got your tongue" had never applied to him. so why is he standing in front of you, his crush, ready to have his very first conversation with you, without a single word coming out of his mouth?

"oh, hey! jungwon, right?" - you ask, sending a soft smile his way.

you know his name. you know his name. you know his name.

"huh? yeah... i'm jungwon. um..." - his confident smile fades instantly when it really sinks in that he has no idea what to say to you. he always knows what to say, how could this happen to him?! this is ridiculous. if he weren't standing in front of you right now he'd slap himself in hopes of rattling his brain somehow.

your eyebrows furrow at the awkward silence taking over, - "do you need anything, jungwon?"

his name falls past your lips so gracefully that if hearing you say his name followed with the three words he wants to say to you the most means he must sell his every worldly possession, he will. but he can't tell you that. he can't tell you how pretty your eyes are either, he can't tell you that he wants to hold your hand, or wrap his arms around you and keep you in his warm embrace for a little while. or how he wants to bury his head in the crook of your neck and bask in your warmth, or that you're the most beautiful person he has ever laid his eyes on and it'd be an honor to take you out on a date. yeah, he definitely can't say that.

"you're the most beautiful person i've ever laid my eyes on, it'd be an honor to take you out on a date..."

it's over. he's a goner.

the way you twiddle with your fingers at his confession goes completely unnoticed despite his big round eyes growing wider at his own words. he's too far gone to see how a warm smile had made its way onto your face.

"sure, i'd love to!"

it's not over. in fact, it's just getting started.

☆ — NISHIMURA RIKI

riki is quite good at hiding his crush on you, considering how the overwhelming feelings have such a weight to them that he's sure his heart doubles at the mere mention of your name to make room for the intense emotions that'll start kicking in. you two aren't dating, although he wishes you were, and you're most definitely not best friends. he knows you, you know him, you think he's nice, he thinks about you every second of every day, y'know, the usual...

"riki, hey!" - you push through the crowd of students walking around a narrow hallway that could only be described as a jar filled to the brim with tiny little ants, very studious one's at that!

his friends' heads immediately turn your way. a girl, talking to riki?! although their eyes don't stay glued on you for too long, they quickly glance at riki. the sight was hilarious, his long fingers were brushing through his disheveled hair, free hand tugging at the hem of his hoodie to smoothen out any wrinkles. there's a soft tint of pink spread across his cheeks, nothing too noticeable, although the burning red glow of his ears was far from discreet.

"y/n, hey!" - he grins, the hand combing through his hair now scratching the nape of his neck to try and play it cool... very smooth! a muffled laugh escapes from one of his friend's shut lips as their orbs dart between the boy and you.

you reach into your pocket, rummaging through the various things you keep inside. crackling of your house keys and noises of crumpled-up paper can be heard before you take out something. riki's eyes try their best to tear away from your mesmerizing features so he can see what you're trying to show him with your arm stretched towards him and a big grin on your face. he notices a little something lying on your palm. it's a duck keychain. if you were any other person he'd look at the item in your hand with a disgusted look on his face, eyebrows knitted together, eyes squinting in pure horror. but you're you. you're the love of his life. that's probably why riki can feel his heart thumping against his ribcage, a stupid smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he tries his best to fight it off, yet the inevitable happens.

"take it, it's a gift! i saw it on the way to school and it reminded me of you!"

he quickly takes the keychain from your palm, ensuring his fingers stray as far away from yours as possible. even the slightest bit of physical contact and he feels his heart will explode for good. he mumbles out a thank you before you turn on your heels and walk away, completely oblivious that the butterflies in his stomach now make their way towards his throat, making him swallow dry.

"hey, riki, what's that?" - jungwon nudges him with his elbow, eyeing the item riki's holding between his fingers. a smile makes its way onto jungwon's lips as he glances up at his friend who's currently grinning from one red ear to another, rosy cheeks like pink buttons on a sweater made with love and care.

"i thought you hated ducks," - sunoo adds, sly hands reaching towards the keychain to try and pry it out of riki's hands, but instead the tall boy clutches harder onto the item, bringing it to his chest.

"well i like this one!" - he adds, furrowing his eyebrows and glaring at his nosy friend.

riki never knew he could like ducks this much.

©tyunni please don't copy, translate or repost any of my work!

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[ollyissleepy]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦

pairings: platonic yandere!batfam x uninterested!male!reader summary: After being caught red handed stealing, (name) finds himself in the Wayne Manor, surrounded by his new family. (Name)'s disinterested in bonding is met with equally not caring siblings and father. As he spends his days alone, (name) realises his new family might care much more than he originally thought the did. cw: stealing, swearing, underage smoking, reader commits a crime, stabbing (in a way?) a/n: you see this part? how (name) is doing in it? yeah keep it in mind reading the rest of the parts. Also can you tell I binged-watched final destination? based on this idea I had

m.list • part: one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight

(Name) walks into Gotham's bus station right before the last ticket kiosk was about to close. The woman behind the glass looked annoyed at one more customer; however, upon seeing the bills in the teenager's hands, she had forced herself to smile for one more customer.

The boy finds out that the first bus out of Gotham travels to Metropolis in the early hours of the morning. (Name) knows he doesn't have any other options, and so he buys a one-way ticket to the city. He gave the woman selling it to him a large tip 'for the trouble'.

Sitting in the waiting area of the bus station, (name) quickly learnt that buying the ticket was the easy part. Waiting for the right bus proved to be much harder for the boy. He kept looking around, worried that his 'family' had found out he was not in the manor and came looking for him.

In order to calm his mind, (name) goes to the bathroom in hopes that some cold water could help with that.

The boy splashes his face multiple times, trying to regain his composure. He looks up to the mirror, staring at his face. He looked… tired. (Name) couldn't believe those dull eyes once belonged to a rather happy child. He wondered if that little boy was still somewhere buried deep inside of him, rotting away. If only he wasn't caught that night. Maybe if he wouldn't meet Bruce and Dick and Jason and…

And Tim.

(Name) reached inside his back pocket, pulling out his phone. Out of habit, he had taken it with him. He stares at the black screen, his mind wandering off to the joke Tim made about putting a tracker on him.

The teenager wrestles with the device, trying to open the cartridge where he saw Duke put a SIM card in. It takes him a moment to figure it out, but once he has the card in his palm, he flushes it down the toilet. The phone was carefully placed next to a sink, hoping that someone would take it, throwing the Waynes off. 

He spends the remaining time even more nervous than he was before. (Name) kept looking towards the clock to watch the minutes pass. The bouncing of his right leg made the person sitting next to him scoff and move to sit further away.

Getting on the bus, (name) chooses a seat far from anyone else, closer towards the end of the vehicle. He rests his head against the window, keeping his eyes half-closed to check who else would be riding with him without anyone noticing him staring.

The ride to Metropolis wasn't as bad as the teenager was worried it would be. The other passengers kept it for themselves for the most part. (Name)'s nerves seemed to calm down a little with each passing kilometre.

The teenager felt himself relax the moment his eyes were met with the 'Welcome to Metropolis' sign. He knew that this city wasn't his last stop, but the distance he put between himself and the family was enough for the time being.

(Name) felt like a new person as he was getting off the bus. He took a look around, pride filling his heart. It was the first step to his freedom.

Walking the streets, the teenager realised one thing: Metropolis was nothing like Gotham. In practice it meant two things for (name). The first one was the fact that finding a place to stay might be much harder than he anticipated. On his walk he only saw one abandoned-looking building, and with how put-together the city appeared to be, there was no way he could get a hotel room.

On the first night in Metropolis, (name) spent napping on the bench hidden deep in a park. In the morning, he woke up cold and more tired than before he went to sleep.

The second night, the teenager had more luck. He found a poorly locked store. That night, the boy slept well, surrounded by warmth.

After that, he purposely looked for stores without high security, breaking into them and sleeping. After each night, he made sure that the store was left untouched to minimise the police catching a whiff of him.

Unbeknownst to him, (name) did catch the attention of a certain someone. 

During a late-night patrol, Conner had spotted him breaking into a store. The Superboy was ready to swoop in and stop the robbery, only to find out that there was no robbery. It was just a teenager his age who was setting up what appeared to be a place to sleep.

"Stop right there!" Superboy yelled out, his fists up in the air, ready to fight.

"Listen, I promise I'm not trying to steal anything," (name) mumbled, his hands in the air. "I'm just looking for somewhere to sleep."

Conner didn't believe him. Not at first. It takes several nights of watching the teenager from afar for Conner to understand that he wasn't lying. He watched the boy's night-time routine: finding a store, breaking inside and setting up a place to sleep. If said store sold food, Conner noticed that he would leave money for any eaten items.

Unsure of what to do with that knowledge, Conner confided in his parents. He told them how he had met a boy around his age who keeps breaking into random shops. Not to steal anything, but just as a form of shelter. Clark promised to check on the teenager.

That night, the two heroes watched (name) breaking into a butcher's store, setting up a space to sleep behind the counter.

(Name) rummages through the shelves in the back, trying to see if any workers had left their uneaten lunches behind for him to eat. The boy is so focused on the task that he doesn't notice that he's no longer alone in the store.

He hears someone clearing his throat right behind him. Startled, (name) quickly turns around, ready to face whoever had caught him. He didn't consider how slippery the floor was from the cleaning supplies.

His mind doesn't fully register the fall before (name) feels the excruciating pain in his lower abdomen. He clutches his stomach around the object currently sticking out of it, looking up to see the shocked and terrified expressions of Superman and Superboy.

The last thing the boy sees is the two men rushing to his side, trying to aid him. After that, all he remembers is the darkness around him. 

He doesn't know how much time has passed when he opens his eyes again. (Name) groans, his eyes blurry as he attempts to move.

"Easy there," a woman's voice said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Wouldn't want you to ruin your stitches."

The teenager stops struggling; instead, he takes a look around the room he was in. The room was small and, judging by the decoration in it, seemed like a guest room. On the bed sat a woman with short, dark hair and purple eyes. On her lap were lying a few medical supplies, as if she came to tend to his wound.

(Name) looked down onto his body, a groan escaping his lips after noticing bandages on his abdomen.

"You were lucky, you know?" The woman said, placing the medical supplies onto the bedside table. "If the metal stabbed you a few millimetres over, you'd be dead."

"I came to change your bandages," she stated, ignoring the lack of response from the boy. "Now, since you're awake, it should be much easier. Can I?"

The teenager nodded, knowing that due to how dry his mouth felt, talking wasn't really an option for him now.

(Name) follows each instruction that the woman gave him, not really in the position to do anything else. He learnt that her name was Lois and that she was the mother of the hero that had saved him.

After successfully changing out his bandages and applying ointment to his wound, Lois left the room with a promise to bring him some water.

The teenager isn't left alone in the room for long. He doesn't even get to think of what his next should be when Lois comes back, accompanied by a man. The woman returns to the boys' side, handing him a glass of water.

"Good to see that you're awake," the man said, not moving from the doorway. "We figured bringing you here would be a better bet than taking you to the hospital."

"Thank you". (Name) took another sip of water. He looked down at the glass, thinking.

"I'm sorry for being so much trouble," the boy mumbled. "I'll leave the moment I get better. I promise."

"Nonsense…" Lois started speaking.

"We wanted to help you, so we did," the man had finished. "You can stay here for as long as you want."

"I won't stay here," (name) argued.

"Nobody will force you to do that," Lois tried to soothe the teenager. "We're just offering."

The boy loses himself in his own thoughts for a moment. Could he really stay here? No. Not like that. Not for free. Nothing's free.

"You could help around the farm if you want," the man offered, as if he was reading the boy's mind. "We could use an extra hand."

(Name) looks up at the man. Helping around while he was staying with them didn't sound that bad after all. The boy nodded. He could stay with them for a while before continuing with his journey.

"Great," the man smiled. "Make sure to get plenty of rest then. We'll get you back on your feet in no time."

Just as the man promised, who later he had learnt was called Clark, (name) had healed in no time. With the doting of Lois and company on both of their kids, he slowly regained all of his energy. Going from not being able to move, to sitting along them at the table. 

Once the boy could walk again, their youngest, Jon, took him outside to show him around the farm. That's when he found out about the workers' quarters in the upstairs of the barn. That night he had pushed the couple to let (name) move there.

From that day on, the boy had fallen into a routine. Each day he would wake up at the crack of dawn, learning how to care for animals from each of the family members.

Right after breakfast he rushes along with Jon to feed the chickens and listen to the boy explain what each bird is called. Then, he does general maintenance along Conner and Clark. If there's nothing he could help with, he spends his time in the kitchen with Lois, helping her prepare meals for the family.

(Name) had also found himself enjoying eating with the Kents. Watching them banter with each other and listen to Jon and Conner talk about their days in school felt nice and refreshing. Even if allowing Lois to fill his plate with seconds with a soft 'eat up, you need to grow strong, sweetie' made him feel a little guilty at times, he apologised to his mother for betraying her like that.

After dinner he would often stay out, watching the night sky along Conner. It was nothing like he knew back in Gotham. In Smallville, looking up at night meant seeing multiple stars shining bright, while in Gotham the only lights in the sky were from the helicopters flying above.

Watching the stars along Conner felt more meaningful after he had figured out why the teen seemed so familiar to him. Hanging out in Conner's room, he saw a photograph the teenager had with Tim, who, Superboy confirmed, was one of his closest friends.

It was getting close to midnight, the two of them wrapped in blankets provided by Lois, watching the night sky. (Name) points out a shooting star, Conner reminding him to make a wish.

"Sometimes I feel like I already know you from somewhere, you know?" Connor broke the silence, his eyes still focused on the sky. "I just can't figure out from where." (Name) tensed up, glancing towards the teen.

"Yeah, that's crazy," (name) laughed, internally trying to calm his heart. Deep breaths. 

(Name) spent the rest of that night unable to focus on anything else than Connor's words. Even hours later, as he lay in bed, they were the only thing he could think about. That night became the first night at the farm that he didn't get any sleep.

"Rough night?" Lois asked the next day, placing additional pancakes onto the boy's plate. "Here, a little more, since today will be rough for you."

Accepting Lois' love came quite easy, the woman reminding the boy of his mother in more ways than he would admit.

Allowing Clark closer felt impossible at times. Growing up, (name) didn't have a father figure, and Bruce, his biological father, he…

The boy shook his head; the man was far away. There was no way he could find the teenager here. Even though Conner is friends with his 'brother'.

Even so, he couldn't help but glance at Clark working on the farm tractor. The man had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, his hands covered in oil. Watching him, it felt good, domestic in a way. Almost as if (name) was always destined to be here with him, with them. Is it really it? Is it the place he could finally stop running?

Clark must've sensed the teenager watching him, turning to look at him. He closed the hood of the tractor with a heavy sigh.

"I'm starving," the man said, walking up to (name). "Let's go home, son."

And he does.

m.list • part: one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight

taglist: @amber-content @bellethesleepypotato @leeiasure @sleepdeprivedcrappywriter @tenthmilo @eyeless-kun @holyfishbailiffpeanut @cuntiesweet @jsprien213 @marsmabe @cssammyyarts @ilovecoffe0 @phoenixgurl030 @esposadomd @alittlelostmoonchild @stargirl404 @xnutz0 @s4raahi @reeyy0-2@ironsaladwitch @chemicalwindexbottle@ityourguy @im-so-goddamn-tired@dirtydiavolo@etern1tyxxx@whognuthis @verypersonadazzel @staarflowerr @hai-there-how-are-you @depressed--therapist @flightless-magpie

[asherwesley]

“If You Ever Need to Disappear”

₊˚ ✧︵‿୨୧‿︵✧ ₊˚

Simon “Ghost” Riley x You

No-Dialogue Love Confession.

Just quiet devotion written in the language of survival.

CW:

Mentions of potential danger/fleeing for safety References to surveillance/espionage Implicit emotional distress (fear of loss/separation) Slight emotional manipulation (out of love/protection) Themes of abandonment (implied, not actual) No physical violence or explicit content

He doesn’t bring it up the first time.

Just slides a matte black case across the kitchen table one night, the weight of it small but unmistakable. About the size of a paperback. Sleek, military issue. No markings. No labels. Just his fingerprints pressed into the corners from carrying it too long in his jacket.

You glance at it, then up at him.

His face is unreadable – the Ghost expression, flat and still. But his eyes… they don’t leave yours. There’s a storm moving behind them, one you don’t have the name for.

“Open it,” he says.

Inside, everything is meticulous:

– A set of carefully laminated IDs, all with photos of you, but different names.

– Passports – not one, but three, under different aliases. Each one has your photo, perfectly altered.

– A phone. Burner. Wiped clean. New SIM cards. Still in plastic wrap.

– Two pairs of colored contact lenses.

– A small makeup palette – neutral tones – enough to change the slope of your cheekbones, the depth of your eyes, and an alcohol wipe kit.

– A collapsible wig.

– A USB stick tucked into foam cut precisely to size.

– A small pair of scissors and a mirror.

– Cash – crisp, untraceable, neatly bundled, international currency mixed in.

You stare down at it. There’s no hesitation in how perfectly every item fits. No “maybe this’ll help.”

This wasn’t thrown together.

This was built. For you.

“Simon,” you whisper, but he’s already looking away.

He scratches at the back of his neck, then shoves his hands into his pockets like they’re safer there.

“If you ever need to disappear,”

“You don’t wait for me. You take that and run. Fast. Far.”

His voice is low and gravely.

There’s a tremor in it – not fear, exactly, but the weight of a man preparing for a future he never wants to see.

“Don’t call. Don’t look back. Just go.”

You swallow, pulse ticking in your neck.

“Why–”

“Because I’ve seen what happens when people hesitate.”

“And I won’t lose you to someone else’s trigger pull.”

“Not when I can give you this.”

There’s no “I love you”.

No “I need you safe”.

Just this.

A kit designed to erase you from every system, every map, every pair of eyes that might be hunting.

Not romantic. Not poetic.

But so painfully, ferociously personal.

You close the case and rest your hand on top of it.

“Simon…”

He shakes his head. Voice a little rougher now.

“Don’t thank me.”

“Just promise you’ll use it if you have to.”

“You don’t wait for backup. You don’t wait for me.”

His hands are fists at his sides now.

Because this – preparing you to leave, to vanish, to survive without him – is the only way he knows how to say:

"I can’t lose you. Even if it means never seeing you again."

You cross the space between you quietly and press your forehead to his chest. He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for days.

“I promise,” you whisper.

And he wraps his arms around you like a man who’s already lost too much – and swears not to lose this, too.

───── ⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹ ─────

“If the world tries to take you, he’s already ten steps ahead.”

[payblogs]

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Virtual SMS

Virtual SMS refers to the messaging service that enables users to send and receive text messages through a virtual phone number rather than a traditional mobile line. This service is particularly useful for individuals and businesses looking to maintain privacy while communicating or verifying accounts.

One of the key advantages of using virtual sms is the ability to receive SMS without revealing your personal phone number. This is especially beneficial for online transactions, sign-ups for apps, or any situation where you might need to provide a phone number but want to protect your privacy.

Furthermore, virtual numbers can be easily managed from a web-based platform, allowing users to organize and store messages effectively. Many service providers offer features such as message forwarding, where received SMS messages can be redirected to your email or other platforms, ensuring you never miss an important notification.

In addition to privacy and convenience, virtual SMS services are often cost-effective. They eliminate the need for extra SIM cards or mobile contracts, allowing users to only pay for the services they actually use. This flexibility makes virtual number services highly attractive for startups and individuals working from remote locations.

As businesses increasingly adopt digital communication strategies, integrating virtual SMS into their operations can enhance customer interaction and improve engagement through instant messaging capabilities.

Virtual Number Service

A virtual number service offers a practical solution for individuals and businesses looking to maintain privacy while receiving communications. By using a virtual number, you can receive SMS messages without exposing your personal phone number. This feature is especially useful for those engaged in online transactions, such as e-commerce, as it safeguards against unwanted spam and protects your identity.

One of the key advantages of a virtual number service is its capability to function seamlessly alongside your primary phone line. Users can receive messages from various platforms effectively, whether it's for verification purposes, two-factor authentication, or simply keeping in touch with clients. The convenience of managing multiple numbers through a single device cannot be overstated.

With options to select numbers from different geographic locations, this service caters to users looking to establish a local presence in different markets. Moreover, these numbers can be set up quickly and easily, providing instant access to receive SMS without lengthy contracts or commitments.

To optimize your experience with virtual SMS and virtual number services, consider features like call forwarding, voicemail, and the ability to choose your own number. Such functionality enhances user experience by offering flexibility in communication while maintaining professional boundaries.

Ultimately, investing in a virtual number service can significantly enhance your business's communication strategy, allowing you to receive SMS reliably while focusing on building relationships with your clients.

Receive SMS

Receiving SMS through a virtual number is a convenient service that allows users to get text messages without needing a physical SIM card. This is particularly beneficial for individuals and businesses looking for privacy or those who wish to avoid exposing their personal phone numbers.

The process is straightforward: once you obtain a virtual number through a reliable virtual number service, you can start receiving sms messages. This service is essential for various reasons, including:

  Account verification codes: Many online platforms use SMS to send verification codes. A virtual number allows you to receive these codes securely.

  Business communications: Companies can use virtual SMS to receive client inquiries or feedback without revealing their primary contact numbers.

  Privacy protection: By receiving SMS through a virtual number, users can protect their personal phone numbers from spam and unwanted solicitation.

Moreover, the get SMS feature of a virtual number service ensures that you don’t miss any important messages, even if you are on the move. Messages are often stored digitally, which means you can access them anytime and anywhere.

In summary, the ability to receive SMS through a virtual number enhances both privacy and accessibility, making it a valuable tool for users in various contexts.

Get SMS

Getting SMS messages through a virtual number service has become increasingly popular due to its convenience and versatility. Whether you need to receive texts for verification purposes or want to maintain privacy while communicating, virtual SMS provides a robust solution.

With a virtual number, you can easily get sms from anywhere in the world without needing a physical SIM card. This feature is particularly beneficial for businesses that require secure communication with clients or customers, as it ensures that sensitive information remains confidential.

Here are some advantages of using a virtual number to get SMS:

Privacy Protection: Using a virtual number helps keep your personal phone number private.

Accessibility: You can receive SMS messages on multiple devices, including tablets and laptops.

Cost-Effective: Virtual SMS services typically come with lower costs than traditional SMS plans.

Global Reach: You can get SMS messages from international numbers without incurring roaming fees.

Easy Setup: Setting up a virtual number to receive SMS is straightforward and often takes just a few minutes.

In summary, leveraging a virtual number service for SMS communication allows you to manage your messages efficiently while maintaining privacy, enhancing accessibility, and reducing costs. This is particularly useful for both personal and business communications, making it a smart choice for anyone looking to streamline their SMS functions.