#AND trying to use some found media from my phone as a background

[e1dritchqueer]

Tired

[Image ID: a pixelated close up drawing of a anthropomorphic dog girl clavicle up colored in light purple with pink edge light. The girl has tired eyes, long wavy hair, floppy ears, thick eyebrows, and a slightly visible adam's apple. She wears a collar and a loose shit. The background is a pixelated photo of a tree branch behind a twilight sky /end id]

[justmeinadaze]

Yin & Yang (Steddie X You)

A/N: This post got me feeling some kind of way🫠 .

Warnings: Older Daddy Eddie (Late 30s)/ Older Dom Mr. Harrington (Late 30s) & Younger Fem Sub Y/N (mid 20s)

SMUT, LOTS of dirty talk, male masturbation, fingering, talks of sharing (duh), slight innocence kink (if you squint; she's new to the dynamic), ANGST, reader deals with a rude customer and Eddie saves the day. A fight between Eddie and Y/N are mentioned.

Word Count: 4838

Donate to my Ko-Fi <3

Everyone always said Edward Munson was a rude, pretentious asshole. News outlets, websites, social media; everyone who met him briefly or not at all expressed a particular distain for him that you always found amusing when the topic came up. 

Visually, he did seem a bit aloof whenever the businessman did any kind of interview or was asked any kind of question. It was always a bit odd seeing a music producer get so much attention especially one who focused on the heavy metal scene but everyone who hated him also tended to agree that he was a genius at the craft. 

The bands he signed and prompted always hit high numbers on their respective charts making him and them a ton of extra money in the process. 

Anything you read or heard you skimmed past mostly because that wasn’t exactly your scene nor did you know anything when it came to what goes on the background of the music industry. Working at a coffee shop wasn’t extravagant or lucrative but it got you through till you could figure what actually was your scene and go from there. 

That’s how you met him. 

On a particularly rough shift, a man was screaming at you about an order that you supposedly got wrong as you tried to control the tears from spilling down your face. 

“How stupid are you?! It’s coffee not a fucking math equation. You just put the right liquid in the right cup and fucking hand it to me! It’s not that hard! Fucking moron.”

“Excuse me.” The man turned just as the handsome gentleman who addressed him hung up his phone and shoved it into his coat pocket. “I understand you’re a bit stressed but I’m going to have to ask you to stop harassing the young lady. It’s not her fault and she’s doing her best.”

“Pfft. Fuck off, douchebag. This doesn’t concern you.”

“It actually does because you couldn’t handle this situation in a quiet calm manner. You’re ruining everyone’s morning including mine. Now…either take the coffee she’s giving you or wait for her to make a new one patiently.”

The man’s fist flew but the gentleman moved out of the way, grabbing his wrist, and twisting it as he forced the man to kneel before him. 

“Ok. If this is the way you want to do this, that’s fine. Sweetheart…” When he addressed you, you immediately stood at attention ready to die for this man if he asked after what he had just done. “Can you hand me that cup there? Thank you.”, he praises, flashing you a small smile that makes you giddy. “Now, apologize to the young lady.”

“Ow, I’m sorry!”, the man cringes when his wrist is twisted a bit more. 

“Good. Take this coffee and get the fuck out of my sight. If I see you here again I won’t be so nice.”

Disregarding the Styrofoam in the gentleman’s hand, the rude customer quickly gets to his feet before running out of the store. Sighing, your hero places the coffee in front of you.

“Thank you…for defending me… He was being such an asshole.”

“Yeah, he was. It’s not your fault he didn’t order the correct thing. I can be an asshole myself but I know when and where to use it.” When you giggled, his beautiful eyes scan you over as if trying to get a read on you with the little information in front of him. 

“Are you, um, are you Edward?”, you ask as you slide him the coffee with the name scrawled across. 

Again, he glances you over and later on you would learn he was looking for recognition. Everyone he interacted with knew his name and who he was. You were the first person in years who seemed to regard him as just another stranger which fascinated him.

“I am but you can call me Eddie. That’s what my friends call me.”

“Oh. Um, we’re friends?”

“For now, but I’d like to be more whenever you’re open to it.”

Another smile stretched across his face when he noticed your own turn bright red as you blushed. 

“You don’t even know my name.”

Coyly, he leans his elbows on to your counter as his eyes stare at your chest. At first you feel self-conscious before you realize he’s looking at your name tag and you let out a tiny laugh to break the tension.

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“Do I make you nervous?” 

“A little.”

“Honest. I like that. How about this. I can pick you up after your shift today and we can start with dinner and go from there.”

“I don’t have any clothes to change into.”

“That’s ok. I think you look perfect as is and I promise when I come get you I won’t be dressed as formal.”

“O-Ok, Eddie.”

“Good. Good girl. I’ll see you tonight.”

That evening, he showed up right as the shop was about to close and when you told him it would be a few more minutes, he nodded as he patiently waited by the front door. You occasionally snuck glances at him as he browsed his phone. True to his word, he wore jeans and sneakers with a nice white button up shirt that he had rolled up to his elbows. With how he looked this morning, you imagined for him this was dressed pretty down. While his hair was slicked back when you last saw him, now his waves seemed to have a mind of their own making him seem less intimidating and quite adorable. 

Eddie asked you so many different questions about yourself, silently listening as you both ate at the restaurant he took you to. You learned fairly quickly, while he seemed like a man of few words, his body language spoke loudly. His chocolate eyes never left yours as he hung on each and every word you spoke. When you said something he found even remotely funny, his lips would flicker into a slight smirk before returning to their proper alignment. When your drink ran low, his finger would raise and a waiter would promptly run your way with a refill and as the night progressed you found his leg leaning against yours with a little sigh escaping his chest when you didn’t shy away. 

“I feel kind of selfish. I’ve been talking about myself a lot but I feel like I don’t know anything about you.”

“Honestly, sweetheart, it’s a nice reprieve. Everyone I run into knows me and my perceived reputation so to finally meet someone who doesn’t know me is a breath of fresh air.”

“Reputation…”, you repeated the word apprehensively. 

“Um, I’m kind of known as being a jerk.”

“You don’t seem like that to me.”

Eddie smiled so wide this time that his teeth came into view and you knew at that moment you’d do whatever it took to see him smile like that as much as possible. 

“Thank you for that. I can be when I need to be. In my line of work people tend to take advantage pretty early on and I wanted this industry to know I’m not someone to fuck with.”

“Do you make movies or?”

“Music. I’m a music producer for some heavy metal bands.”

“Oh wow! That’s so amazing. I would love to know more! Did you use to play?”

When he finally began to open up, hours passed like minutes and you were so entranced that you didn’t even realize the restaurant was getting ready to close. 

Eddie told you at one point he was in a band but hated the way they were cast aside for being “to generic” and “stuck in the past” so he took matters into his own hands. He bought a building and turned it into a label where he could help produce his friend’s music. He learned everything he could about production and managing, getting everything together, and essentially put Corroded Coffin on the map. 

He found that he actually loved working behind the scenes and stuck with it from that point forward. Now he’s a well-respected name in his field earning triple what he would have made as a guitarist. 

“What’s the name of the label you first opened?”

“Franklin Production; my mother’s maiden name. It seemed right because her money bought the building and she always loved music. She died when I was young.”

When his head hung, your heart broke. 

“Oh my God, Eddie. I’m so sorry.”

His mood changed in the blink of an eye as he breathily chuckled and glanced at his watch. 

“Shit, Y/N, it’s almost 1am. You have to be exhausted after your long shift today. Let me pay for our meal here and then I can take you home.”

“We’ve ordered so much food and drinks. Please let me help pay.” He paused at your comment then as his eyes met your now confused ones. “What?”

“I’ve only met one person who ever offered something like you just did and that man is my best friend.”

“I mean…it’s rude…isn’t it? It’s not fair for me to expect you to pay for everything.”

“Fuck me, baby.” Your eyelids visibly flutter at the term of endearment; coming out of his mouth with a sultry husk that made you swoon. “You’re really something special. I appreciate the offer but when you’re with me, honey, I can take care of you. It’s my pleasure quite honestly.”

You watched him pay the waiter and leave him way more than 15% before Eddie grabs your hand, leading you back to his car. 

That night he dropped you off at your apartment continuing to be the perfect gentleman as he walked you to your door and kept his hands behind his back as you slowly turned your key. Before you entered, however, you paused and hastily turned to plant a small kiss on his lips. Without waiting for a retort, you want inside and shut your door with a little giggle, watching through the peephole to see what he’d do. 

Eddie’s fingers softly brushed against his mouth as he grinned the way you enjoyed at the restaurant. 

***

You had been together now for a few months and you loved him with every fiber of your being. Eddie was extremely protective over you insisting you quit your job and move in with him. 

“Sweetheart, I don’t want you being somewhere where some fucker can belittle you and make you feel like trash. I can take care of you till you find a new job that makes you happy and people treat you with the respect you deserve.”

“Eddie, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking; I’m offering.”, he cooed as his hands cupped your cheeks. “You know how much Daddy loves looking after his pretty girl.”

The first time he called himself Daddy, you blushed and hid behind your hands making him smile as he chuckled low in his throat. 

“Have you ever called a man Daddy before?” When you giggle and curl tighter into your body, he climbed into the bed beside you and pulled you to his side. “It’s ok, sweetheart. Nothing to be embarrassed about with me. Can I show you something?”

Eddie grins when you drop your palms and show him your beautiful face. 

“Good girl.”, he praises as he takes ahold of your hand and kisses the back of it. With his eyes locked on yours, he gradually places it on the bulge in his slacks. “You feel that? Do you feel how hard I am just from being around you as is? You don’t have to do or say anything you don’t want to, princess. I’ll still be here and I’ll still want to fuck you till you can barely move.”

A smile twitched on his lips when your breathing stuttered. 

“I-I-I’ve never called anyone Daddy before or done anything that’s not…”

“Vanilla?”, he helped when your sentence stalled. “Vanilla’s ok to. Definitely a delicious flavor that can’t be disregarded. Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

Eddie leans in till his mouth is just hovering over the shell of your ear. 

“The fact that you’re so nervous and innocent to all this really fucking turns me on.”

When his cock strains a bit more against the fabric and pushes back against your hand, you can’t help but release a little whine as you push your thighs together. 

“What’s wrong, baby? Got a bit of an ache between your legs?”

“Yes.”, you breath out heavily as his palm ghosts up your thigh and his lips tenderly peck along your neck. 

“I can help with that if you want.”

“Y-Yes, Daddy, please.”

Now, you were more than comfortable especially since he was always so patient with you when it came to almost everything. Unlike your past relationships, you were genuinely surprised at how little the two of you fought if at all. Eddie was a force in his business but when you two were together he was always as accommodating as possible. The one time you ever saw his anger directed towards you was when you forgot your phone when you went on a girl’s night out with your friends. 

When you came home at 2 in the morning, he was waiting in the living room and pacing with a glass of whiskey in his hand. 

“It’s 2 in the morning, Y/N! I’ve been worried sick! You forgot your phone. What if something happened to you and you couldn’t reach me!?”

“Eddie, it’s ok! I just forgot it. I promise I’ll do better next time—”

“That’s not the point! What if there hadn’t been a next time!? I’m responsible for you!”

“I don’t know what you want me to say!! I’m sorry!!”

“You watch that fucking tone with me, little girl!”

“Oh yeah. Or what?!”

When the glass in his hand shattered into the wall behind you everything became abruptly silent. Tears stung your eyes as you grabbed the little trashcan nearby and scooted towards the mess, sinking to your knees as you collect the pieces. 

“Y/N, baby. No. No, no. Let me clean this, please.”, Eddie begged, his tone much softer than before as he kneeled beside you. 

When he tried to take the sharp items from your grasp, you angrily pulled away from him. 

“I didn’t mean to forget my phone. It was an honest mistake and you had no right screaming at me like you just did!”

“I know. You’re right, sweetheart. You are absolutely right. I just… fuck… I’m so sorry, Y/N. I love you so much and the idea of something happening to you or you getting hurt just terrifies me. I shouldn’t have reacted this way.”

Blinking up at him, your hand reaches for his own. 

“You love me?”

“Yeah, Y/N, of course. Since I met you behind that coffee counter.”

After tackling him excitedly, you beamed as you kissed his lips. 

“I love you to.”

People on the outside didn’t seem to understand why you were with him but they didn’t know him the way you did. Eddie was sweet, funny, and incredibly kind despite his hardened outer exterior. According to the man himself, the only other person who understood him the same way you did was a man you had yet to meet. 

#############

Steven Harrington was a name you knew solely due to his reputation in media. 

He was always portrayed as just another trust fund baby who was utilizing daddy’s money to do whatever he wanted. He got in trouble constantly but brushed it off with a sexy smile and a calm demeanor that made even the biggest skeptic want to trust him.

The first time Eddie mentioned him by name was after you noticed him watching one of Steve’s interviews. 

“Fucking idiot.”, he chuckled light-heartedly, turning the screen of his phone so you could watch to when you climbed into bed beside him. “This is the guy I was telling you about. Steve Harrington has been my best friend for years.”

“This is your best friend?”

When he nods, you focus on the interview in front of you.

“No, no. Trust me, that company would be crazy to sell right now in this economy. Once things bounce back it will be worth way more than it is now. Then again…if they sell I could buy it and turn it into a hotel or some s***. Go ahead than! Sell that f***er!”, he laughs making you giggle as well when his nose scrunches adorably. 

“Steve is actually a very clever business guy. People constantly underestimate him because he acts like a playboy.”

“So…he’s the yin to your yang?”

Eddie smirks down at you before kissing your forehead. 

“You could say that.”

The more your boyfriend told you about him the more you wanted to meet him. Eddie seemed to genuinely care about this person and as his girlfriend you wanted him to get to know him as well. The first time you spoke to him was after you moved in with Ed and he called to congratulate you both. 

“Hey! Are you Y/N?”

“I am.”, you grin. 

“Oh good. I don’t know what I would have done if you said no. ‘EDDIE! Some random pretty girl is in your place!’”, Steve laughed. 

“Pft. How do you know I’m pretty?”

“Because a sexy voice like yours must be inside a beautiful woman. I’m kind of jealous.”

He said it so smoothly that if you weren’t already sitting you’re sure his words would have knocked you off your feet. Your eyes glanced towards Eddie who was watching you from his spot on the couch. 

“Uh oh. Did I lose you, honey? Sorry. Sometimes I come on a bit too strong.”

“No, no. It’s ok. You just… you remind me of him.”, you exhale as you get up and walk towards your boyfriend. 

“Of who? Of Eddie? I take that as a compliment. He’s a good man.”

“Yeah he is but that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“Oh? Well then use your words, pretty girl. Who do I remind you of? I’m DYING to know.”

Eddie softly smirks as he watches your breathing stagger the same way it does when you’re intimidated by something. His ring covered fingers gently trace down your arm making you shiver. 

“Tell me.”

The two words that followed came out as a strong command that told you to obey. The contradiction of how he spoke now to how he had before made you dizzy and you desperately wanted more. 

“Daddy.”

After tossing the phone next to Eddie, you covered your face with your palms and ran up the stairs. A few moments later, the man you loved climbed into bed beside you and collected you into his arms. 

“Talk to me, baby. Remember, no matter what there’s nothing to be embaressed about, ok?” He smiled when he felt you nod against his chest. “I know Steve can be a bit much at first but he’s a good person who’s been through a lot of bullshit.”

As you sniffle, you tilt back so you could see his face. 

“I feel bad.”

“About what, sweetheart?”

“I liked the way he spoke to me. It turned me on the same way you do.”

“Ok…why does that make you feel bad?”

You shrug. “I love you.”

That makes him genuinely smile. 

“I love you to, Y/N, so much. That’s why I trust you, babe. I, um, I have a confession to make.” When you sit up to give him your full attention, he does the same. “I’ve known Steve for a long time and I trust that man with my life. I’ve told him things I’ve never told anyone and he’s done the same. You said, sweetheart, he’s the yin to my yang and you’re right. Fuck… how do I say this…”

“You want to share me?”

The innocent way you asked your question drove him insane but he pushed down the need to fuck you for the time being. 

“Kind of, yes. I…I wanted to see how you two got along and if it worked out, maybe, we could fly to go meet him and… you’d still be mine but he’d—”

“Use me.”

“Fuck, baby, you have to stop saying things like that the way you are.”, Eddie panted excitedly as he adjusted the growing bulge in his pants. 

“May I ask why? Why you would want to share me like that?”

“Of course, Y/N, you can always ask me anything. You hold the power here especially when it comes to this. I just… he’s my best friend and I want him to be happy to. In these past few months, you’ve changed my world and I just want to give him some of that. I, um, I also think…”

“Tell me, Daddy. Please.”, you beg in your tiny voice that has his eyes closing as he tries to control himself. 

“Fuck… I think it would be incredibly hot to watch you fuck him.”

You had told him you were open but apprehensive because it was all new territory for you. Both men came up with an idea to help you get acclimated to the idea. 

“Hey all. Wow, Jesus Christ Munson, you undersold your girlfriend’s beauty. Hot damn.”

You giggled as Eddie rolled his eyes at his friend who was laughing himself from his side of the computer screen. It looked like Steve had the device he was using for this facetime visit resting on his lower stomach as he leaned against the headboard of his bed looking incredibly sexy with his ruffled hair and tank top just barely covering the chest hair that littered his skin. 

Eddie had you sitting in between his own legs as he rested his head against your shoulder and his arms hugged you to him. 

“I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable. If I do at any point please just let me know and I’ll respect your boundaries.”

“You don’t make me uncomfortable but, uh, you kind of intimidate me a bit…more than Eddie did.”

“Is it because I start at 10 and go from there? Yeah, casualties of growing up in chaotic household and then starting a business where your biggest competitor is your father.”

“What DO you do? Ed said you’re an investor?”

“Kind of.  I invested in a friend’s tech company many years ago and that paid off in a big way. They make medical supplies that are high quality for a cheaper price. I’m trying to expand so we can invest in more—Pfft! Listen to me talking about all that bullshit. Let’s talk about something else.”

“No, hey! That’s amazing that you do that. My father needed supplies like that but it was so hard for him to afford stuff. You’ve probably helped so many people. What supplies has your company helped make?”

Steve blinked, sitting up straighter.

“Huh.”

“I told you.”, Eddie sings as he places a delicate kiss along your skin. 

“D-Did I do something wrong? Am I not allowed to ask him questions?”, you asked genuinely worried you crossed a line. 

“Most people, let alone women, don’t care enough to ask us things like you just did.”

“Maybe you two are spending time around the wrong people.”

“Maybe… Damn, Eddie. She’s perfect. Where did you find her because obviously I’ve been looking in the wrong places.”

“Hm. I found her in a coffee shop being yelled at by some asshole. Fucker.”, he growled before you tilted back and kissed his cheek. “It’s not just her personality either. Her body fucking drives me crazy. Even just watching her walk from the bed to the bathroom makes me so fucking hard.”

“Yeah? Your Daddy says you have sexy body. Can you show it to me?”

“Only if you’re comfortable, princess.”, Eddie whispers in your ear.

“Can you help me, Daddy?”

Nodding, he removes each item of your clothing till you were naked for the man on the screen in front of you. 

“Fuck me. I’m not just saying this, Y/N, but you’re so gorgeous.”

“Thank you.”, you groan as you lick your lips. “May I see you?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”, he smirks. 

Your whole body tingled as you watched him undress until you sucked in a sharp intake of air when his cock sprang free from his cotton confinement. 

“He’s so big.”, you murmur against Eddie’s cheek as his eyes remain downcast to focus on you. “How will it fit?”

“We’ll make fit, pretty girl. Steve and I can take care of you.”

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah. Little one is worried about your splitting her in half. “

“Don’t worry, honey, I’m a gentleman to. I’m not going to just shove my dick inside of you. Even if it takes hours, we can eat and finger your little pussy till she’s ready.”

“Fuck, Daddy, please.”

Aggressively, Eddie opens your legs wide putting you on display and making Steve groan. 

“Wet already and no one’s even touched you yet.”, he responded mockingly before leaning over his cock to spit on his tip and stroke himself. “How tight is she, Munson?”

You moaned loudly as Eddie inserted two of his thick fingers into your cunt and your head leaned back against him.

“So fucking tight, Harrington, and greedy. Her pussy just sucks me in and chokes my dick when she cums. Add in her sexy little noises and the way her face scrunches…” 

“Open your eyes, Y/N.” Steve smiles when you do what he asks. “Good girl. She listens to. Fuck, baby, don’t take those eyes off me. God, I’m—mmm—I’m dying to feel those pretty lips around my cock.”

“You’re really good at sucking cock, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy. I’m…M’close.”

“I know, pretty girl. I can feel it. Why don’t you tell Stevie how bad you want his cum.”

You mewl as Eddie moves at a faster pace with the sound of your slick echoing around the room. 

“Please, Mr. Harrington, Sir. I-I-I want your cum so much. I want to feel you—ahhhh—feel your cock in my mouth till you spill down my throat.”

“Jesus Christ.”, he grunted and you both watched as his release hit his thigh. 

“You did so good, sweetheart. Cum for Daddy now, baby.”, Eddie praised as your back pushed against his chest and you panted as you came. “That’s my girl. Good girl. Ride it out on my fingers till you come back to me. That’s it.”

“Fucking hell. That was amazing, honey.” Steve watch with fascination as you turned your body and wrapped an arm around Eddie’s chest as you curled into his warm chest. “Everything ok?”

“She’s fine. It’s something baby girl does when she cums hard like that. She’ll squeeze me like a fucking Teddy bear and fall asleep. Sometimes it’s for a few minutes or a few hours. At first I thought it was the headspace but I don’t know. Either way I love it.”

“Yeah, man. If she had a good time and is open to it I have that party coming up in a month. You two can fly down and we can hang out. Of course, nothing has to happen. I can always just show you guys around and get to know her more.”

“I’ll let you know when she wakes up and we talk about it.”

“No problem. No problem. Hey, maybe at most, you and I can fuck around.”, Steve replies as he coyly raises his eyebrows making his friend laugh.

“Ok, calm down over there.”

“Oh, come on. Not like it would be the first time—”

“Good night, asshole.”, Eddie teases as he cuts him off and closes the laptop.

#################

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”, Eddie asks as he watches you fidget with your hands as you stare at your reflection in the metal of the elevator. 

“Yeah. I’m just a little nervous. This is your best friend and I know how much he means to you. I don’t want to…I don’t know…fuck anything up.”

“Fuck, I still think it’s hot when you get all jittery like this.”, he chuckles as he takes your palm in his. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I love you so I know for a fact he will. Just keep being your unique self, baby, and no matter what I’ll be here if you need anything.”

When he flashes you that big toothy grin, you can’t help but smile back as you lean up on your toes to kiss his lips. The doors abruptly swing open and your boyfriend’s demeanor instantly hardens at the sound of loud party guests in the room you both step into. 

Your eyes swing around the area with no sign of the host himself. 

Tugging on Eddie’s bicep, you lead him to the drink station where you desperately chug down some liquid courage as you pray that tonight goes as smoothly as possible.

[simp-ly-writes]

What Would You Do?

─────── · · A The Comment Section (spin-off / pt.4.5)

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: In this standalone part, everyone finds out how Spencer seems to know you better than you know yourself and the comments go wild over it. It's still recommended that you read the series for the full effect.

─ · · TAGS: standalone, gender-neutral pronouns, social media au, attempt at comedy, light swearing, fluff, mutual pinning.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | PART ONE

─ · · A/N: thank you so much to the wonderful @sserendiipiity for this idea and sorry it took so long to write this! All original images belong to their owners, my work is my own. Asks are open for Smosh!

─────── · ·

Being in front of such a small crew was refreshing besides the hundreds of workers you were starting to get used to for your up-and-coming movie entrance. Still to this day, you didn't know how you landed such a part with all of your acting history coming from youtube but nevertheless as Courtney called you all to take your positions; a newfound anxiety found its way into your mind. This episode was solemnly focused on you and how well your fellow cast members and friends knew you.

Soon the heat of a thousand LEDs made you start to sweat as you smiled at the camera and introduced this weeks episode, "Hey guys, welcome to what would (name) do. And here today I am with my friends Trevor, Amanda, and of course, Spencer. Yes, we have been reading your comments everyone-"

The crew in the background began to laugh as Spencer shook his head with a small smile, foot taping yours from underneath the table as you waited for everyone to finish. "-and Spencer and I will be going back to our regularly scheduled content together. But thats besides the point! I am going to be reading these question cards that I totally wrote and your goal is to guess my answer. So if I said, 'Who do you think if the last person I messaged?" You all would answer..."

Putting the cards down quickly and going for your phone, you rolled your eyes at yourself for seeing who, as always was at the top of your history. Head now in your hands- knowing how quickly the fans would clip this next moment. Courtney began to count down behind the camera, voice trying to hide her giggles as everyone knew the answer right away.

Picking yourself up and trying not to make eye contact with anyone at the table, Courtney didn't even get a chance to hit one as both Trevor and Amanda have already flipped over their boards, arrowheads pointing towards Spencer with large grins strapped across their faces.

"And why do you think its you Spencer" you ask, not even having to look to look as you stare into the camera with a straight face. "Because we are each others conscious?" Spencer answers matter-of-factly, the smile he sends you breaks your character as you announce one point each before moving on to the next question.

"Okay, If I could learn any skill and be super good at it, what would it be?" You take a second after reading the card, unsure of your own answer as you look around the room for any ideas. Peering down the table, everyone seems to be writing a lot as you tap your marker lid against the table. Courtney begins to count down once more as Trevor rapidly erases his answer and writes down a new one as you raise your brow curiously before marking down your own.

"Let's see these answers, because I am unsure myself."

Trevor goes first out of the line, "I had a few ideas but I think I remember talking to you about being a better driver... that or being a quicker reader."

"I completely forgot about that- I would agree, being able to read and remember scripts super quickly would be awesome. Let's see what everyone else wrote down though, Spencer?"

"Well I said that you want to learn everything about music. I know that you always have wanted for some groups to make one more album or for others to pick up their sound. But what if you could make your own music just how you want it to sound?"

"Fuuucckkk, thats so good!" you moan out, trying to imagine everything you could make before your eyes flash back open in horror. You clasp your hands over your mouth before throwing your head back laughing as Spencer shoves your shoulder, "Not in front of the cameras!" He points dramatically at every single one as you grip his shoulder trying to calm yourself as he two joins your laughter.

Amanda had erased her answer by the time you two caught your breaths as Courtney asked off-camera why. "This game is what you kids would say, rigged. Like what am I going to say thats topping thing one and thing two here? But I was going to say skateboarding," Amanda responds in a lighthearted tone.

"Skateboarding?" Trevor asks, eyebrow raised as you nod your head, curious to learn the answer. "I don't know! I just thought it would be something cool that you would like to be really skilled at."

"I mean... it would be pretty cool. I could be all Tony Hawk Skate Park all around the office," you voice, picturing a future video idea before giving points out to Spencer.

─────── · ·

The video continues as expected, your fellow cast mates mocking annoyance and play-fighting amongst one another as Spencer nails question after question, often answering better than the answers you come up with for yourself about yourself.

At some point, Amanda and Trevor had tackled Spencer to the ground, begging him for answers as he held his hands, glasses askew as you sat and watched from your chair, tears stringing down your face as you hunched over, your stomach hurting from laughing so much as Courtney yelled for break, you all taking your fourty minutes to grab drinks and snacks at the cart.

"You do know how crazy the comments are going to be underneath the video, "OMG I ALWAYS KNEW SPENCER AND (NAME) WERE MARRIED'" Amanda mocks in an obnoxious girly tone as you shake your head, knowing her words to be all true true as Spencer leans down and steals a bite from for sandwich. You glare playfully at him as he turns around chewing, going to find Alex to ask how the other shoots are going back at Smosh Games.

"Well, its better than the hate. I thought I was actually going to get fired or killed if we didn't release that video soon enough," you respond a bit tensely as Trevor flicked your forehead. "Hey, none of that, (name). We all would've made sure it never came down to that."

Amanda nods in agreement as Spencer rejoins you both. He places his chin on your shoulder, asking you quietly, "How're you doing?"

"Better," you respond with a small smile, taking in his equally tired expression as you ask him the same question. He hums out positively before leading you both back in front of the camera.

As soon the red dot starts to flicker in your face once more and before you can finish the question, Amanda had already stood up, chair screeching against the floors as the table shook from her enthusiasm as she screamed out her answer. "Describe what you think I would wear tomorrow-"

"SOMETHING OF SPENCERS AND JEANS, where are my points?! Take THAT SPENCER!" Amanda dances for the camera, fingers flipping the man off as you hide behind the board, giving her the point as no one else bothers to answer.

─────── · ·

"And for our second to last question today..." you all were starting to grow loopy. After a full day of shoot after shoot, you all started screaming out random things at one another, sometimes without context and the outline of a gameshow had gradually turned into a shouting fest. "...Fuck, Marry, Kill-"

"SPENCER, SPENCER, SPENCER," Alex shouted from off-camera, chest raised proud of his throw-back answer to an earlier episode as Amanda wheezed out, Trevor throwing his board for the bit, "that was going to be my answer too!"

Spencer's ears had flared bright red as he started off into the distance. You hide your face in your hands once more, shoulders rising and falling with silent laughs before managing to read the rest of the actual question left.

─────── · ·

By the end of the shoot, Spencer had one as he raised your hands together cheering before taking a bow to the crew and then the camera. "Well, to no one's surprise, Spencer won todays episode but I have to say, you all surprised me with your answers. It feels so good to know I have all of you as my friends. And to all of those watching at home, be sure to check back in the next few days to find the new content we have cooking up. Bye!" You all wave towards the camera's before the screen shuts of to black.

─────── · ·

A few weeks later...

🔔 Smosh Pit just posted! watch now?

─────── · ·

What Would (name) Do?

Smosh Pit ✓ [Subscribed] Like 132k | Dislike | ... 8.29M subscribers 430k views 1 day ago you'll never guess who wins this episode! click to read more

3,333 Comments

username01 1 day ago The team was COOKING on this video. username11 1 day ago Well, this is one way to shut us all up and goddam it I'll take it all! username44 1 day ago Anyone else had to pause this video multiple times to look at the camera in their room and scream BC this was TOO much for little ol'me to handle. username13 12 hours ago "You'll never guess who wins," - yeah right. ▼ 50 replies ↳ username88 4 hours ago IKR? The bigger shock would have been if Spencer was banned from participating hahaha. ↳ username20 12 hours ago Kinda feel like he should've been. I mean the cast was taking it great but it must get kinda annoying how he knows every answer. Some even seemed like (name) didn't even know themselves! ↳ username54 30 minutes ago This is concrete evidence to the (yourshipname) case, these two idiots belong together. username73 12 hours ago I am salivating over all of the edits I know will come from this video. Where is @ (yourshipname)updates when you need them? ▼ 1 reply ↳ (yourshipname)updates ✓ 10 hours ago I am here and am happily overworked! We are eating good folks! username52 30 minutes ago Trevor and Amanda pinning Spencer to the ground with (name) cry-laughing in the background was not a meme format I thought I needed. I can't wait for the next Who Meme'd It!! username14 1 day ago "Spencer, Spencer, Spencer" - Alex Tran 2024 username02 just now I honestly thought they would all be quicker to name Spencer as (name)'s lest message. Like whenever they are not actively filming I swear I see them smiling at their phones in the background of videos. username05 23 hours ago (name) and Spencer: try not to fall in love. difficulty? impossible. username66 15 minutes ago Amanda calling the game "rigged" was so good. BC let's all be real here, this was fan service at its finest and i'm not even upset about it. username70 1 day ago The fact that they kept (name)'s: "Fuuucckkk, thats so good!" in is shocking to say the least. These edits about to be straight WILD. username23 14 hours ago There's literally to much to comment about, I am going insane. username80 1 hour ago "SOMETHING OF SPENCERS AND JEANS, where are my points?! Take THAT SPENCER!" Amanda has confirmed what we all believe people, let us all thank her in the comments below \/ ▼ 44 replies ↳ username54 30 minutes ago Yes, thank you dear Amanda!! ↳ username90 30 minutes ago I love confirmation bias. ↳ username54 just now I love how Spencer wasn't even mad. Like bro was damn smug about that fact while (name) was blushing so hard thinking none of us would ever catch on XD

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: I am kinda obsessing over (name) and Spencer...

─ · · TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗗

　　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N is part of the Sturniolo Triplets fandom and makes videos about them on TikTok. After years of creating content, one of her videos seems to catch the attention of none other than Chris.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, from anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N².: I used this tiktoker as an inspiration for the content that the reader creates on this.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

It was true that the Sturniolo Triplets fandom grew so much in such a short time thanks to the fans themselves, who play a big role in bringing the channel to other people through social media - mainly TikTok. It was also true that, at least 90% of this part of the fandom works with edits of different types of the boys; compilation of parts from a certain video or podcast, edits and even memes.

But there was a small portion that made videos talking about the boys, showing their faces and voices while explaining their content, work and even giving tips on how the triplets themselves could increase their audience or improve their brands.

And Y/N was part of this small portion, having been in the fandom since mid-2021 and not missing any videos of the triplets, she could talk about them for hours on end.

Her biggest hobby was making videos giving ideas for their channel and brands: some brands they could collab with, theme ideas for car videos, topics for podcasts, prints for hoodie sets and t-shirts - both for the triplets' brand and for Fresh Love -, different flavors and themes for Space Camp, and so on.

The girl applied all her love and knowledge to all her videos, editing the backgrounds and explaining her ideas with the smallest details, making them understandable. She had perfect lighting, audio, and set equipment for her work, which made the quality equally good as her content.

Her trademark was her strawberry frappuccino, which she was always drinking every time she turned on her phone camera. Fans joked that her obsession with the drink was like Chris's obsession with Pepsi.

And all that was exactly why fans loved her so much. Y/N had more than 400 thousand followers on her TikTok account and all her videos reached an average of 150 thousand likes, in addition to the many comments saying how smart she was for having those ideas, her kindness in sharing them with the public and even complementing her beauty.

The girl spent hours of her day reading each one of them and interacting with fans as if they were best friends, always being very kind. She laughed her ass off at the comments from people who madly tagged the boys, especially Chris, as it was a well-known fact that he was her favorite - she loved to make that very clear.

Some fans even went so far as to say that if Chris was ever ready to get romantically involved with someone again, they wanted it to be with Y/N. The girl read that type of comment with a huge smile on her face and red cheeks, feeling honored. Although she imagined that the boys would never even notice her, she allowed herself to travel through the world of delusion from time to time.

So it was an understandment to say that she was super surprised when, after waking up on a typical Saturday and picking up her phone for the first time in the day before even getting out of bed - a bad habit of hers -, she saw the notifications in triple the volume of its normal.

She felt dizzy with so much information, trying to find in the midst of so many comments and messages what was really happening.

Finally, after traveling between her TikTok, Instagram, and Twitter for long minutes, she finally found it.

Chris Sturniolo had commented on her last video.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

It was Friday, and the triplets had just returned home after finishing recording their new car video that would be posted in a few hours.

Chris was currently lying in his bed, the lights in his room dimmed, and the low noise coming from his phone filling the four walls.

The brunette was just getting ready to take a shower minutes ago, having opened his TikTok and scrolling through his For You for a few minutes, about to take off his clothes used in the filming, when a video of an unknown girl talking about himself caught his attention.

It was very normal to have videos of and about himself on his For You, after all, the hours over the last few years that he spent liking one video or another showed the algorithm that he liked this type of content. Edits and memes of him alone or with his brothers filled his app, and he spent enough time watching, laughing, liking, and, sometimes, reposting some of them.

But it wasn't normal for him to have a completely unknown person talking directly about him, with her face and voice exposed for the world while doing it. And what surprised him most was what she was talking about, that specific video being about different prints and colors that he could use in the next Fresh Love collection.

His blue eyes lingered too long on the girl's face, admiring her features, her sweet voice serving as a melody for his ears.

When Chris dragged his thumb from the right to the left of his screen, entering the girl's profile, he finally noticed her name.

"Y/N." His voice came out in a whisper, enjoying more than necessary how the name slipped off his tongue so easily.

His fingers wandered across the screen, going from one video to another, listening to the ideas carefully - even writing some down on his Notes app -, saving some in a separate folder and browsing the comments, only then realizing that practically all of them were from fans tagging him.

Laughter escaped his lips at some of the jokes the girl made every now and then, while fascination filled his eyes with the effort she put into each idea.

The sound of knocking against his bedroom door startled him, his body jumping as he turned sharply towards the source of it, Matt's head appearing between his door and the frame, his eyebrows furrowed as his eyes traveled around the room briefly.

"You've been listening to this girl for so many hours that I thought she was here with you." Matt commented, opening the door wider and approaching Chris.

The youngest of the triplets rolled his eyes, suppressing the urge to lock his phone screen and keep Y/N all to himself, but she was well known in the fandom and her videos were about him and his brothers, the possibility of her content getting to them as quickly as it got to him was huge.

"It's a girl who appeared on my For You today. She makes videos of ideas for our channel and brands, can you believe it?" Chris looked at Matt as he showed his phone screen with Y/N's profile open. His eyes were wide with fascination, and his lips stretched into an enthusiastic smile.

Matt observed him for a few seconds, noticing his body language and the way he spoke about the girl, it was different from all the other times the boy commented about tiktokers or videos others made about them.

"Send me a video of her, I'll take a look later. Now go upstairs, I bought us something to eat."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Another Monday had arrived, and Y/N was looking for strength in her body to get out of bed and face another start of the week.

The thought that in a few hours, she would have a brand new Sturniolo Triplets podcast was what made her tackle her tasks.

Her eyes traveled to the time on her phone and to her notification bar every 10 minutes, as if she was expecting Nick to release the podcast earlier than usual - it was obvious that that wasn't going to happen.

After last Saturday, where she had woken up to a comment from none other than Christopher Sturniolo, her weekend was complete madness.

She spent hours staring at the little comment as her mind tried to process whether she was actually awake or still asleep and in a very good dream.

"loved the idea! it's noted ;)"

"it's noted"? What did that even mean? Did he actually write down her idea for future use? Should she be prepared to wake up some other day and see that he has launched a new collection with something she suggested in one of her videos?

And what made her go crazy the most was that Chris Sturniolo had seen her face, and not only that, he found her attractive enough and her idea creative enough to watch it until the end.

She spent almost the entire previous two days waiting for him to comment again, or even like one of her videos, but that didn't happen. Instead, Y/N received thousands of comments from fans going crazy with her about what happened. At least she had a good laugh with them.

Now, she was in her bedroom, the light from the movie playing on the TV was the only source of illumination. Y/N was lying in her bed, already in her pajamas and with her pre-bed cup of cappuccino on her lap, keeping her legs warm, her eyes on the television, but her mind somewhere else.

The sound of the YouTube notification came from her phone and Y/N had never moved so quickly, her hand taking the device out of her bedside table and unlocking the screen while muting the television, clicking on it with her thumb without even looking at the other notifications.

Her fingers worked on increasing the volume and screen brightness, setting it to the best resolution and getting comfortable on her bed, preparing to stay in that position for the next hour.

The podcast was already at minute 35, and Y/N felt her cheeks hurting from how much she was laughing at the topics brought up by the boys. Nick was especially funny that day, making Chris and Matt laugh at every moment.

In addition to the senseless fights that would arise between the three of them out of nowhere, which made Y/N roll her eyes playfully, already accustomed to their way with each other.

Until her big smile was replaced by an expression of a mixture of fright and surprise.

"Can we take a moment to talk about the intense crush Chris developed this weekend?" Nick interrupted Matt's laughter, taking a sip of his Doctor Pepper.

Chris turned abruptly to his brother, his eyes wide at the comment as he shook his head, almost begging through telepathy for him not to talk about that.

"It's true, Chris spent the weekend obsessing over a fan of ours who makes videos on TikTok with different ideas for our channel." Matt agreed, looking briefly at Nick while his hands moved the microphone support, pressing his lips together as he tried to suppress his laughter at Chris's reaction.

"Yeah, she is super pretty, and her ideas are very interesting. I think I only saw her profile once, but I listened to all her videos through Chris's phone." Nick continued, raising his right hand and directing his palm towards Chris, pretending to cover his figure with it and ignoring his desperate expression. "He literally spent the entire weekend watching her."

"Her name is Y/N. Search for her guys. We might even use one of her ideas on our next podcast." Matt added, his voice coming out low despite his mouth being almost glued to the microphone.

"You guys are horrible, I hate you." Despite the distance, the camera lens that focused on Chris's image captured his red cheeks as he tried to suppress a smile at the thought of the girl who took over his thoughts, rolling his eyes to his brothers.

"Now he will be silent for the next 10 minutes." Nick continued, amusement in his voice as he picked up his Space Camp watermelon lip balm, playing with the object in his hands.

"He's in love Nick, give him some credit." Matt mocked alongside the oldest triplet, a small smile on his face as his eyes watched his brother's reaction.

"Okay, next topic." Chris interrupted loudly, his voice cracking with embarrassment. He raised his arms and moved them from side to side exasperatedly, earning laughter from the other two, before Nick briefly passed his eyes on the document open on his laptop, starting the next topic.

"Oh my God." Y/N whispered, clicking once on the screen and dragging the small ball in the bottom bar to the left, going back a few minutes of the podcast and rewatching that specific part.

The girl repeated that action at least three more times, her brain still processing that Chris Sturniolo had been watching her TikToks all weekend - as if she were some kind of famous artist - and that, apparently, he was developing a mini crush on her as well.

Her heart was beating too fast to be normal as her cheeks burned, a red tinge taking over her skin. Goosebumps ran through her body as her fingers trembled slightly. Her jaw was already hurting from the time she held her mouth open, but no sound escaped from it.

A notification suddenly appearing at the top of the screen caught her eye, her right hand instantly flying to her mouth while her left hand lowered her phone, resting the device on her mattress.

Her eyes were now fixed on the wall in front of her bed, as her mind screamed at herself.

christopherturniolo sent you a direct message.

"hey!"

[rottenpumpkin13]

Did Zack ever ended up having Aerith cooperate on a prank on the Firsts? If so, how did it turned out?

The Drugs Prank

TW: Drugs

[Aerith and Zack are hanging out at the church. Aerith is calling Genesis from her phone while simultaneously shushing Zack's laughter]

[The phone rings four times before Genesis picks up]

Genesis: Yes, Mrs. Fair?

Aerith: Hi, Genesis! I was wondering if you could do me a favor. Zack isn't answering his phone or messages...

Genesis: Oh, I'm with Angeal and Sephiroth, so your paramour isn't here.

Aerith: No, no. When you see him, can you please tell him that he left the last of his white powder at my house?

[There's a pause. Genesis's heavy breathing is the only sound on the other end. Zack is silently dying beside Aerith]

Genesis: I'm sorry, he left his what at your house?

[There's two voices on the other end that sound like Sephiroth and Angeal asking him what happened]

Aerith: His white powder. He always brings it over, but never tells me what it is. He lets me try some of it sometimes, but I always end up coughing⏤

Genesis: White powder!? White powder!?

[Aerith covers her mouth to keep herself from laughing. Sephiroth's muffled voice is heard in the background: Genesis, are you buying illicit drugs?]

Aerith: Yup, white powder he always has in a small brown package.

Genesis: Aerith, dear, does he snort the powder?

Aerith: He does! And afterwards he always gets energetic, it's really cute!

Genesis: IT WAS COKE? THIS WHOLE TIME WE THOUGHT IT WAS ADHD! YOU'RE TELLING ME HE'S BEEN INHALING THE GOODS!?

[Aerith covers the receiver with her hand. She and Zack are silently laughing. Genesis is screaming on the other end. Shuffling and a garbled commotion are heard]

Genesis: ⏤DOING DRUGS! NO WONDER HE'S SO HYPER ALL THE TIME, HE'S BEEN COKED OUT OF HIS MIND! *shuffling sounds* No, Aerith just told me! *shuffling sounds* Well, what else could it be!? *shuffling sounds* You ask her then!

[There's more muffled back to back and then someone else picks up the phone]

Angeal: Aerith? Aerith? It's Angeal.

Aerith: Hi Angeal!

Angeal: Listen, when Zack brings over this white powder of his, does he make you take some of it?

[Zack shakes his head and pantomimes stirring a pot]

Aerith: Hmmm, sometimes? Usually he just has me cook the white powder with baking soda.

Angeal: HE'S RUNNING A CRACK HOUSE!

[Zack loses it and has to step away to laugh. Meanwhile there's a commotion on the other end that Aerith can just barely make out]

Sephiroth: Genesis he's having a panic attack.

Genesis: So am I!

Sephiroth: Genesis he can't breathe.

Genesis: I feel betrayed, SEPHIROTH!

Sephiroth: He's blue, Genesis.

Genesis: And I just found out our Puppy is the local merchant!

Sephiroth: Give me the PHS.

Genesis: Put it on speaker!

[There's some shuffling and then someone else picks up the phone]

Sephiroth: Aerith, this is Sephiroth.

Aerith: Oh, hey!

Sephiroth: Do you realize that you're recounting something which could put Zackary in prison?

Aerith: Really? I didn't know it was that serious! He says that you, in particular love the white powder.

Sephiroth: Myself? He told you this?

Aerith: Yeah! He says that every week when he brings you guys cookies, he puts the white powder in it! He even gives it to the other SOLDIERs regularly!

[Genesis and Angeal's collective screams drown out Sephiroth's heavy breathing]

Genesis: HE WAS GIVING US EDIBLES!

Angeal: *crying noises*

Sephiroth: We're all going to prison.

Genesis: SCRATCH THAT, HE REGULARLY COKES UP THE ENTIRE DEPARTMENT.

Angeal: *crying noises*

Sephiroth: We're going to appear on the news.

Genesis: I KNOW, SEPHIROTH, I KNOW.

Sephiroth: Do you have any idea how many times I've enjoyed those cookies?

Genesis: Angeal! Angeal! Breathe, man, breathe!

Sephiroth: This will be a nightmare for the PR department. Social media will have a field day. I can see it now. They're going to call him Zack-crack Fair.

[Zack accidentally snorts loudly and Aerith slaps him upside the head]

Genesis: ANGEAL STOP EATING YOUR OWN SHIRT—Sephiroth he's having a mental breakdown.

Sephiroth: They're going to call me Sugar-roth.

Genesis: ANGEAL DON'T EAT THE CARPET!

Sephiroth: You're going to be Gene-snow.

Genesis: SHUT UP! SHUT UP! FOR THE LOVE OF OUR SWEET GODDESS SHUT UP!

Sephiroth: And Angeal will be Crack-geal—Ow! Ow! Ow!

[They continue to argue on the other end while Angeal cries. And then everything goes silent]

Angeal: Guys...Isn't that Lazard over there?

Genesis: It is....And he's eating one of Zack's cookies....

Sephiroth: Stop him!

[Shuffling and the sound of running footsteps are heard, followed by Lazard's: "Good evening, gentlemen. Why are you all⏤ACK!" and then then sound of something heavy crashing through glass]

[The line goes dead]

[seaurchin0]

MAKE A FULL GUIDE BRO PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS I WOULD EAT THAT SHIT UP!! /nf

oh man, this gonna be a long one but ty for letting me infodump about my interests </3 my overall advice would be to be creative, and DON'T underestimate how intertwined social media is with everyday life. Experiment, see what works, and good luck <33

so a lot depends if you know the person in question irl or online and i'll go over both but first, here are some things that help in both cases: -names are not necessary to find people, useful af but info like what school they go to, class they're in, clubs they're in etc do better -look at their friends, their friends' friends, family, tagged photos, followers and following list (if they're active online), info doesn't just come from them, if you can't get in contact with them you can learn a lot from family, friends classmates etc

-intelius.com

-please PLEASE keep track of what info you found out and what they told you, don't accidentally drop that bombshell

-i have a folder where i keep my fp's information saved, all the "useful" images they sent me, link to their social medias, school website and more so i'd suggest making one of those

if you only know them online, here are some cyberstalking tips that don't rely on being close and location (all this assuming they're active online):

-look up their username(s) and variations everywhere. literally every platform you can think of, i had to sign up to 3 platforms i never used just for that

-look up their friends' usernames

-look at tagged photos, mentions and interactions they have with others in the comments under their posts to find out who they're friends with

-if you can see previous usernames (like on instagram) look up those too

-you might get lucky with wayback machine

-if you can find their reddit, twitter or any social media that shows their post and comment history study that shit

- if they haven't shown their face but have photos including any other part of their body that isn't usually covered up, even in colder climates (like hands most commonly) save those too, if you manage to find a school website or something later on that might have photos of their face you could match them up. it's difficult af but never give up, if there's a will there's a way

-reverse image search all the images they posted

-try images on geoimgr.com. photos taken on phone or camera will sometimes have GPS coordinates stored in the metadata of each file, but there are some websites that encrypt this

-anaylze the background of images, especially if they're taken outside

-trying to pinpoint a location (town or country they live in) would be good but not necessary: • if they posted screenshots that aren't cropped and include the time, it will be easy to figure out the general area because of timezones • use google maps to match up the background seen in images

if you wanna figure out an email or number: • log out of your account, put their username in in the login section, press "i forgot my password", the next part may vary from platform to platform but select the option for their the recover of their password to be recieved through email and it will display the first and last characters of their name, as well as what domain they're using. same with the phone number

next, in real life, i'm not really an expert in this since i've never stalked anyone irl for as long and as much as i have online but hope these help too!:

-eavesdrop

-if you're not close or to them (as in not in the same class, school, workplace etc) look for someone that knows them in any way.

-assuming you found that person, don't directly ask about them. let's say, your fp likesa art, so you ask that person about art clubs. chances are, they'll mention the one your fp is in. very vague example but it works with almost everything

-ask your parents about your fp's parents, works well if you're younger and still in school

-VERY carefully try to glance over at their phone's screen as much as you can, it could make finding social media accounts 10 times easier

-use all the info you manage to get for cyberstalking. don't follow them around, especially don't follow them home, you don't need to do that to figure out more about them. again, don't underastimate how ingrained social media is in our lives. Cyberstalking is much more easier and safer.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Rachel Connolly:

Earlier this year, I had a bout of what my friends and I term “mental health”. I was always tired. I couldn’t concentrate. I felt burnt out by the volume of communication that social media facilitates. I am 31 and, like many people my age, I’m in multiple group chats on WhatsApp and often find myself added to new ones. I use Instagram to post work and selfies, and to chat with people via the DM function. I use X similarly. (I’m too old for TikTok.) I enjoy some of this. I like talking nonsense with my friends. But I’d started to question how deliberate much of it was. I’d find myself posting a picture of a book I was reading and think, why do I need an audience to read? I began to wonder if, in the cycle of curating, recording and publicising our lives on social media, the things we do that are not seen and affirmed by people online feel somehow less “real”. My work as a writer means I probably get more online communication than the average person. Last year I published my first novel, and I have since noticed the slightly strange way that novels are discussed online. I get tagged in Instagram posts saying that my book is about a messy girl, a sad girl, a distant girl or a cold girl. There is an algorithmic basis to this. The easiest way to attract attention on social media is to talk about a trend everyone else is talking about, or to slot whatever you’re talking about into one of these trends.

So everywhere you look it is Brat summers or trad wives, cottage-core or bloke-core, high-functioning anxiety, parentified children or whatever happens to be the latest term for pathologising your life experience. Everything is flattened, simplified. I worried that being immersed in it was making me think this way too. A friend recently got a “dumb” phone, a Nokia 3210, to use when she’s out of the house. She leaves her smartphone at home like a landline. It has made her happier, she says. I needed a break too, but I was drawn to the idea of spending some time cut off from all communication. A reset, of sorts. I found a weekend-long silent retreat, no phones allowed, and booked myself in. My craving for a break is not uncommon. Social media is such a constant background presence in our lives that it’s easy to forget how recent it is. Facebook, which feels impossibly passé, is only 20. Instagram is not yet 15. Researchers first used the term “digital detox”, to refer to a period of abstention from phones and laptops, in 2012, around the same time that social media was really taking off (chat rooms had been around since the turn of the 1990s without the concept surfacing).

Digital detoxes remained unusual for a time. In 2015, Essena O’Neill, an Australian influencer with 612,000 Instagram followers, made news around the world when she released a statement about quitting the platform. Today, similar moves by celebrities are so common they barely make headlines. Billie Eilish deleted all social media apps from her phone. Actress Tavi Gevinson wrote about using an assistant to manage her Instagram. It has been hard to keep track of the number of times Stephen Fry has quit and rejoined Twitter over the years. These dramatic exits can seem amusing, especially when they’re followed by sheepish returns, but mostly they underscore how addictive and overwhelming social media can be. My silent retreat took place in a large house in rural Devon. I arrived on Friday, one of a group of about 50. We were allowed to speak during registration and, because I had gone there determined not to use reductive labels, I could already sense myself reaching for them. A young man told me he had done several silent retreats before. Ah, I thought, so you’re the type of person who does these often. Then I caught myself. What type would that be?

During the first meditation session, our instructors explained that we would sit and try to embody, rather than think about, the question “What is this?” This distinction struck me as confusing to the point of meaninglessness. But they explained that one way of attempting “not to think” about the question was to resist the urge to answer it. They encouraged us to focus instead on how we felt, on the physical sensations in our bodies. If you have never tried this, I will say that it is extremely difficult. We sat cross-legged for 30 minutes. I stared at a wall. Then we walked in a circle for 10 minutes. Then we sat down again, and so on, for about two hours. Then it was bedtime. I enjoyed the communality of me and the other girls silently working through our evening routines together. I realised that I had never decided to bring my phone everywhere, like an appendage to my body

The next two days were structured around meditation and chores. At 6.30am we were woken by a bell. We did two hours of meditation, after which we had breakfast. Then a break, followed by another two hours of meditation and lunch. My chore was washing up after we ate. Then more meditation, dinner, another break, meditation, bed. If sitting in an uncomfortable position and staring at a wall while trying not to think sounds impossibly boring, I would say it is not so different from the way my days would unfold when I worked in offices, traipsing from my desk to the tea station and back. More earnestly, I would say I could not have imagined how much I would enjoy the retreat, or how much I’d get out of it. Over the weekend, one of the instructors spoke about trying to be more conscious of the labels we put on our experiences and interactions. It struck me that a similar fatigue with the overload of digital communication is probably what draws a lot of people to try a silent retreat. We were all the type of person who is fed up with “types of people”.

On my first morning after breakfast, I went outside. The countryside seemed fantastically vivid. The blackbirds looked as beautiful as anything I had seen before. I watched one, like a dash of ink, flickering against the mottled grey sky, then two sailing as a pair, in tune with each other. I watched a cloud of them, pulsing. It reminded me of a jellyfish. Back inside, from my seat in the meditation room, I could see a tree that the birds would visit. When I was frustrated with the way my thoughts rattled around my head, reviewing unsaid rebuttals to months-old arguments, I watched the birds and imagined the paths they were taking in the world. One of my issues with the task “embody but try not to think” is that the semantic distinction between thinking and feeling is hard to grasp. If you notice that you feel happy or sad, is that a thought? Or a feeling? I found animals a useful framework to try to understand the distinction, as they negotiate the world using senses. A bird might fly north because of an environmental cue, but it does not say to itself in words, “I want to fly north.” I came to understand the task not as emptying your head of thoughts, but rather resisting the tendency to narrate things to yourself in words. I noticed that this interior monologuing would lead me along familiar, superficial trains of thought, to recent memories associated with certain feelings, say, and soon enough back to mundane anxieties.

At night, I would sit outside and look at the stars. The clouds, invisible in the darkness, shifted to expose one patch of stars, then another, making it look like the sky itself was swelling and shrinking. Memories and ideas still came to me, but deeper, more interesting ones than before. It was as if I had cleared the way for them. I remembered that I used to look at the stars when I was a teenager. I used to read about how they’re born, how they sustain themselves, why we see only some of them, how they die. On Monday morning at breakfast, we were allowed to speak again. Some participants had found the weekend hard, they said. One person had cried repeatedly. Others said that eating in silence had made them feel as though everyone was being cold towards them. As they talked, I remembered old corporate jobs where I was always the office loser. People could sense the aura of failure emanating from me, so I would eat lunch by myself, in silence. I got used to it. I didn’t feel I was learning anything valuable at the time, but life can surprise you. Sticking out is not so bad, I realised. This is the message of most children’s books, but one it’s easy to lose sight of as an adult. Other people’s perceptions of you, real or imagined, don’t have to influence how you see yourself. Social media is designed to erase this perspective. Much of the anxiety it fosters comes from forcing you to see yourself, constantly, as relative to others.

[vinguist]

Cleaning up your digital space

With my trying to make my digital experience more useful and fulfilling, one thing thats helped is just cleaning up things. It makes things run nicer and look nicer, plus just overall gives me a better idea what's going on around my computer (I have found so many old files I completely forgot I had.) in a way its actually a lot like cleaning my actual house lol- some things are to keep things running well or not lose stuff and others just make things look and feel nicer. also if you're objectum &/ posic it can be a great bonding experience to take care of your tech.

this cleaning may include:

deleting files I do not need

backing up files (I like physical drives) ^- both those include photos

cleaning out my email inbox

unsubscribing from things I don't want/need

organizing bookmarks

making new passwords for everything ^- make NEW passwords, try not to reuse old ones ^- Highly recommend using a password book

clearing cache & cookies for websites

setting a new home/lock screen

reorganizing apps

deleting apps I don't need

clearing out my many tabs Iv'e had open for days ^- use bookmarks for these

setting a new keyboard background on my phone

changing my custom mouse design

removing unneeded browser extensions

clearing out drafts on social medias.

the physical parts of tech might also benefit from some cleaning too:

cleaning the screens with microfiber wipe

brushing between/under keyboard keys

cleaning the inside your phone case (& outside but I feel like the inside oft gets forgotten) if you have a computer with many wires, setting up some cable management

plus checking how much time you spend on certain apps if you think you use too much and setting up limits if necessary.

Now I don't do this all at once nor do I have a specific schedule, I'm not nearly that organized in my life yet. but some things I'll try to do every couple months and others are just whenever my phone starts saying I need to clear space.

[gojo-mochi]

👻ima trick my boy geto here….. mwhahahah👹

Adding my boy in there cuz i can mwahaha 

You were sitting bored in your apartment all alone, Suguru ended up getting dragged from place to place by Gojo and the students. Leaving you all to your lonesome, you stare at your phone, having exhausted all social media apps and getting bored of looking at the same feed over and over again, when an idea pops into your head. While you do love that Suguru was a caring person and that he had his own life to live somethings, that doesn't mean you get lonely without him. 

And he hasn't even been texting you back that much! So you decided to pull a devious prank on him. Grabbing your laptop you look up voice clips of someone male, preferably deep and soothing. Googling some asmr videos you come across a channel with a voice that oddly sounds like Suguru but this voice was a bit more chilling, the lull and timber of his words sent a weird chill down your spine but he had some voice clips of what you were looking for, so you picked him anyway. 

“Kenjaku…huh.” You read the youtuber's name out loud as you prepare the prank, cutting his audio clips into what you needed and getting ready to ‘accidentally’ call up Suguru. You sat back on the couch with a giggle as you pressed on Suguru’s number on your phone, putting it on speaker and laying it on the table next to your laptop. Your leg bouncing up and down impatiently as you wait for Suguru to pick up. Ring….. Ring….. Click… “Hello?”

Your breath hitches in your throat upon hearing Suguru for the first time in a while, you almost faltered and replied back but held strong, your hand hovering over the play button on your laptop as you steady your breathing and began the show. “Darling? Are you there?” Suguru questioned lightly as you could hear him walk away from Gojo and some other people talking in the background. You faked a giggle, hearing Suguru get even more confused; “Oh, stop it. You’re such a bad boy.” Your voice titters out, hitting play on the audio clip as Kenjaku’s voice starts to flow out from the speakers.

“You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you. Hahah… Now, what am I going to do with you, hmm?” You had to stop yourself from shuddering, as you pretended to reply back to Kenjaku. “Are you gonna punish me, hmm~?” Suguru's voice rang out louder as he spoke this time; “Y/N? Who was that and what are you doing? Where are you?” You heard him say something to Gojo and the shuffling of feet quickly moving, a wide smile stretched on your face as you picked up the phone and giggled into it. “Hi baby~” You cooed, Suguru quickly responded; “Darling! What are you doing right now? I heard a voice, is there someone there with you?” His voice was on the edge of worry and angry in it, you felt your core heat up from his tone. 

“Haha! Pranked ya! It was just a video of some random guy I found online. No one’s here, baby. I just got really lonely and missed you.” Suguru let out a huge sigh at that; “Darling, just say so and don’t give me a heart attack next time. I’m coming home to you now, anyway.” You perk up at that; “Really?” Suguru cooed at your excitement, “I was out buying gifts for you, I planned on coming home to surprise you with it later.” He chuckled, as you made a questioning noise. 

“You wanna know what I got for you, hmm? It's something new we could use in the bedroom. Satoru showed me this store that just opened up and they had lots of items I wanted to try on you.” A different kind of shiver went down your spine this time, as you squeezed your thighs together, a wetness forming in your shorts. “O-oh, yeah?” Suguru hums back, “I think it works out, Cause you’re definitely getting punished tonight, by me.” 

‘Uh oh…I’m fucked.’ Both literally and figuratively. You let out a nervous laugh, “Honey, sweetie, sugarpie? You’re still mad at my prank, are you? I only did that because I was lonely and missed you, you know.” Suguru didn't say anything for a while, only the sound of his car unlocking was all you could hear for a while. “I know, dear. That’s why I’m coming home right now, to spend all night with you.” The revving of his engine matches the increasing pace of your heart. “And this spreader bar and rope will help me, I mean you, prepare for a long night of fun~” 

“Now, be a good girl and get on the bed and wait for me. If you try to run away or hide from me, I’ll increase the punishment~”

[i-am-still-bb]

Treat for 22/10:

One of them is a modern witch and an owner of a famous potions recipe blog. The other one is a bit of a fanboy / just trying not to get his eyebrows synged off…

A/N: Originally conceived as an AU of The World Next Door. That had me stuck though. So we have this. But it still has similar elements, age gap, instructor/student dynamic, etc.

—

Fili drummed his fingers on the walnut conference table. One. Finger. At. A. Time. Focusing on how there were pits in the wood and some scratches in the varnish beneath his fingertips.

“Do you have any ideas?”

The silence following the question stretched on a beat too long and Fili knew he was supposed to answer. “Can you rephrase the question?”

“Enrollment numbers are dropping.”

“I’d noticed.”

“We need better student engagement and retention. Do you have any ideas? You are the most junior member of staff.” That last part was a thinly veiled dig and threat.

Fili shrugged, brushing off the words, “We could try putting some stuff on social media, teasers, sneak peeks, behind the scenes stuff. Stories about how potions and other magic sometimes go awry.”

Frowns appeared on the tenured track professors’ faces as soon as the words “social media” had left his mouth. This is why he rarely spoke up during these things. He kept his head down, did his research, lectured, and quickly attended conferences and published. 

Alice, the other young faculty member, specializing in potions that assisted in the growing of plants, clapped her hands. “My students would love something like that,” she grinned. “And I think it would do them good to see us as human, to see that we also make mistakes and singe our eyebrows and armchairs off.”

The department head looked skeptical. “It is an ‘interesting’ idea,” Fili could hear the air quotes around the word. “I think one of you younger people should be in charge. And as Ms. Yu is already assisting the Archives in their project then it should be you, if you don’t mind.

Fili did mind. Very much in fact. 

“It shouldn’t take that much time, maybe an hour a week,” the Head continued. 

And that was how a decade later Fili found himself spending more time on social media (Instagram, TikTok, and the like) promoting the university more broadly and the potions department specifically. 

He had asked for an assistant and was denied. 

It was fun. 

Sometimes. 

But other times he was just answering basic questions, or telling people “NO! ABSOLUTELY DO NOT MIX THOSE THINGS TOGETHER!” and then hoping that they actually listened.

Most of the time he was typing up replies, proofreading, posting, recording response videos, without paying much attention to the usernames that came across his screen. Sometimes there was one that would strike him as particularly ridiculous or clever; he would screenshot it, crop it, and save it to a special folder on his computer. He did the same with responses that made him give up home for humanity. 

But then there was one user, K.O.A.K., who asked questions that often made Fili pause and wonder and sometimes his only response was “I don’t know” even after he did some research and some serious thinking. 

They had a video chain going back at least six months at this point. 

Fili’s videos were well-lit against a carefully chosen background from a tripod; all courtesy of a performing arts student who interned for him for a semester. Really, she had bullied him into letting her do an unpaid internship. She was a double major and she said that the content of his videos were fantastic, but everything else was tragic. 

So now part of Fili’s large office / workspace was permanently set up for filming videos.

K.O.A.K.’s videos were probably worse that Fili’s had started out as. He always held his phone which sometimes made Fili nauseous while the user tossed ingredients into a travel sized cauldron that sat on a stove that had a single burner and plugged into a wall outlet. The wooden table it sat on was scarred from mishaps and frequently littered with ingredients, snacks, dust, and the occasional iced coffee cup of varying fullness. 

K.O.A.K. never showed his face. 

His hands featured in nearly every video. Sometimes his bare feet (which Fili had scolded him for, “What if you spill [insert potion here]? Or it boils over?” K.O.A.K.’s only response had been laughter, and to show off a fairly impressive old scar on his shin from just that thing happening) appeared. 

Fili shared tricks for making a potion that temporarily improved hand dexterity. “Roast the willow root before cutting it into thin 1 inch strips.”

K.O.A.K.  responded with a video demonstrating the differences between his original potion, one following Fili’s tip, and then one where he had added some olive oil to the foil packet before roasting, and then had roughly minced the root. 

Fili amended his notes.

He toyed with the idea of sharing his phone number as they starting talking about more than just tips and tricks for potions. But decided against it. This account operated in an official capacity. And it was probably bad enough that he was carrying on personal conversations through it. 

But he did notice that the twinge of excitement he got when he saw a notification form K.O.A.K. was the same as the one he would get early on in a new relationship. He had more than a little bit of a crush. It was merely academic, or so he told himself. He did not often get to talk about potions with anyone else.

—

Direct Messages between You (Prof.Durin) and K.O.A.K.

You: Why don’t you have a degree in this? You’re better than some of my grad students.

IDK.

You: You should apply to Erebor’s program. 

I don’t think they’d take me. I never took those ridiculous tests.

You: I’ll get them waived.

… I may not have finished secondary school

You: I’ll see what I can do.

—

Fili dismissed the class early. The first day of a new semester was always short. Most of his students were out of their seats and out the door before Fili had finished wiping down the whiteboard. Except for one. He was standing by the lectern, backpack slung over one shoulder.

“Did you have a question?”

The student shook his head. “I just wanted to introduce myself.”

Fili consulted his attendance sheet for a moment, “It’s Killian Oaks, right? If you would prefer something else, I can certainly do that. I just don’t have a note from the college about anything like that for you.”

“It is. But that’s not how you’d know me.”

Fili frowned in thought, one hand splayed over his papers on the desk. There was the niggle in the back of his brain that told him he was missing something.”

“You’d know me as . . .”

--

Taglist: Everything: @silvermoon-scrolls Fili/Kili: @dubhlachen

[vincent-sinclair-deserved-better]

Let's Be Alone, Alone Together

You're having a weird day and feeling down, your secret admirer reaches out to try and comfort you

Characters: The Patron x Reader

Words: 3038

Content warnings: Loneliness, maybe allusions to a panic attack towards the end? I was just going with the flow, the reader-insert was just doing whatever they wanted.

divider by firefly-graphics

The screen of your laptop was emitting a dim, blue-ish light, the video frozen where you’d paused it some time ago. You’d noticed your attention drifting off, constantly losing track of what was going on, so you had decided to take a moment to finish your train of thought, which had since been forgotten. Muscle memory had you reach for the mouse and move it when the screen went dark, displaying the message that it was going to shut off due to inactivity. It wasn’t like you needed it, you weren’t even looking, but force of habit didn’t care. 

With a sigh, you leaned back in your chair and started the video again, having to go back quite a bit in order to find something you remembered seeing. Yet it wasn’t long before you caught yourself staring off into space again, the video just indistinct background noise, incapable of pierce the fog in your head. Nothing seemed to get through to you, no matter what you tried. You hadn’t been able to remain focused on anything all day, instead being stuck in that weird space of mental dullness and exhaustion, with the faint sensation of some stinging emotion lingering beyond the surface. 

As much as you loathed this emotional limbo you were in, you didn’t want to go down that road either. Before you’d realise what was happening, you’d find yourself falling down a rabbit hole you really did not wish to explore. 

Pressing the spacebar to pause the video again happened with hardly a thought, and you absentmindedly reached for your phone as you stood up to get something to drink. You unlocked your phone and opened your go-to social media app on instinct, the action almost being a Pavlovian response to the feeling of your phone in your hand. And again, without you being consciously aware of it, your brain picked up on a small symbol in the notification bar. You’d received a text message. 

For a moment you just stared at the screen in confusion. Who would send you a text? Pretty much everyone you knew used some kind of messaging app. It was most likely just some kind of spam, so you put your phone down and took a glass from the cupboard. Up until now, you hadn’t even noticed how thirsty you were, but as you were standing in the kitchen you drank a whole glass of water before getting your go-to comfort beverage. 

Only when you were back at your desk you decided to check the message. 

And almost drop your phone. 

“Good evening, my dear muse,” the message started, immediately making apparent who had sent it. There was only one person who called you his muse. Your secret admirer. Or, “The Patron”, as he called himself. But you had no idea how he’d gotten your number. Then again, he frequently entered and left your home without leaving any traces, and seemed to know... pretty much everything there was to know about you.  

You took a deep breath before looking down at your phone again, “I apologise for contacting you in such a direct manner without prior notice, but I couldn’t help noticing that you’ve appeared as if something was bothering you today. Since I care for you and your well-being, I simply wanted to inquire about how you are feeling and whether everything is alright. Yet, I am aware that I might not necessarily be your first choice of person to discuss such matters with, and will not be offended if you prefer not to respond. Respectfully, The Patron.” 

In spite of yourself and the strange headspace you’d been in all day, you found yourself smiling. His choice of words was unusual for sure, but it had something endearing. At first the anonymous notes and gifts had been unsettling to right-out terrifying, there was no way to just ignore the inherent sense of vulnerability that came with knowing someone had been in your home against your will. But aside from that, he had been nothing but a gentleman. Always respectful and kind, at least in his notes. And maybe you were being naïve, but you genuinely did not feel threatened by him. 

He made you feel seen. 

And not just in the literal sense, though the fact that he was most certainly watching you did probably help. If there was anyone you could talk to, why not the mysterious faceless stranger who already seemed to know more about you than anyone else? Plus, he’d asked. You wondered if texting his “muses” was something he did regularly or if you were special. 

“Good evening yourself,” you began, the ability to form sentences disappearing right as you began typing. Was this appropriate? To be so casual? You certainly didn’t want to write like him, it would feel pretentious and for all you knew he might take it as you mocking him. Still, did he expect you to be more respectful? What exactly did his question entail? How much did he want to know? How long had he been watching you? 

While you were trying to keep up with your thoughts, your phone buzzed. Another message. 

“Apologies again, you appear agitated which wasn’t my intention. Please, feel free to just forget what I said.” 

You deleted what little you had written and typed without thinking, “No no, it’s alright, really. I’m just overthinking.” 

“My response, I mean,” you added, “Or, well, how to respond.” 

You knew that you weren’t particularly eloquent at the best of times, but right now you felt like a bumbling fool, “I’m sorry, I’m just not good with words sometimes.” 

“You have nothing to feel sorry about, my love, you are doing just fine.” 

Oddly enough, his response actually managed to calm you. Alright. He didn’t think you were stupid. And apparently you cared about getting his approval. Which was something to think about... later. Maybe. 

Staring down at the words on your phone, you realised that you’d probably gone through more actual emotions within the last ten minutes than the entire rest of the day, which made you snort. 

“Well, that’s good to know. And to be honest, the same goes for you. Nothing to apologise for, you’re only being nice, checking in on me and all,” you typed, trying to just write what you were thinking, just like you normally did. These were text messages, not some extravagant letter or formal essay, “On that note, you’re right about something bothering me. Or having bothered me? Me being weird today.” 

You were still attempting to decide what to write next when he replied, “Thank you for telling me this. Making you feel uncomfortable or stressed is the last thing I want. Am I correct to assume that you do not mind conversing with me in this fashion then?” 

You snorted and felt another smile form on your face. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” you wrote, and then took a moment to add, “Actually, and I know this will probably sound silly, but I think it’s kind of nice to... get to talk to you, I guess? As fun and intriguing as a mystery can be, having something more substantial and real is comforting too.” 

Comforting?  

There it was, that stinging feeling buried under all the nothingness that had occupied your head all day, the unwanted emotions you’d tried to banish into a corner where you didn’t have to face them. 

Admitting that you appreciated the comfort your secret admirer’s attention brought had left a moment of vulnerability, just a split-second of acknowledging the fact that there was a desire to be comforted. The faint stinging had found a path through the fog and grown into a sharp pain in your chest, wiping the smile off your face and leaving you with the urge to cry. 

The buzzing of your phone pulled you from the vortex of emotion that was threatening to drown you, your Patron saving you once again, “My love, are you alright? What is wrong?” 

“I’m just. Lonely,” you typed and hit “Send” without another thought, “I haven’t felt anything all day because I didn’t want to deal with my negative emotions but-” 

You let yourself fall back in your seat, trying to calm your breathing. He replied within seconds, seemingly fully focused on the conversation and, therefore, you. Yet, his words weren’t too reassuring, “Is there no one you can contact? Surely one of your friends would agree to talk or meet up with you.” 

“Yeah, it’s just... they all got lives. Work. Uni. Hobbies. Everyone who lives close by is so busy I don’t want to bother them, the rest lives at the other side of the country or halfway across the world. I don’t even want to do anything, just, I don’t know, hang out. And I can’t really demand someone to take time out of their day to do nothing with me,” you wrote, fully aware that your friends would probably call you out on your bullshit but still unable to change your attitude. 

“Well, now you have this number and my explicit permission to message me whenever you feel like it, although I can’t guarantee that I will always be able to respond right away. I promise that I will get back to you as soon as possible,” came his response and you wondered for a moment what kind of stuff he got up to when he wasn’t watching you. Beyond all the secrecy he most likely was just a normal man. But then again, you didn’t really care. To you, he was The Patron. Your secret admirer. Who reached out to you when he saw you having a bad day. 

“So... do you have any plans for the night?” you sent, and immediately regretted it. Way to make things awkward and make yourself seem nosy. You didn’t want the conversation to die down, but you didn’t want to inconvenience him either, “I don’t want to keep you from doing stuff or something.” 

You hoped that he didn’t have anything to do though. You didn’t want him to leave yet, to be left with only your thoughts to keep you company. 

The screen lit up with his response, “As of now, I do not have any plans, nor did I intent to go anywhere. However, if you ask me to leave, I will.” 

“Please don’t,” you wrote, once again faster than your brain could keep up with, sending the message without second thought, “I just... I don’t want to be alone.” 

It was harder to admit than you’d expected, and the real issue wasn’t even letting him know – the difficult part was to really and fully admitting this vulnerability to yourself. Wanting, needing felt like a weakness. Being this affected by a simple emotion felt like something you should be ashamed of. The judgemental nature of society was ingrained in your very being, and self-acceptance was hard. 

“In that case, I will stay,” he replied and you sighed in relief. 

“Thank you,” you typed, “If I could I’d hug you. To be honest, you’re probably lucky that you got some distance from me, I’m so touch-starved I’d be sticking to like a limpet.” 

Another painfully honest and awkward message that you hoped wouldn’t upset him or make him feel uncomfortable.  

“Considering that, so far, I have been the one to watch and follow you, I do think it has become apparent that I feel somewhat... attached to you. Even if only on a mental level. Not because I don’t want to meet you, but because I cannot bear the thought of scaring you off by becoming too overbearing. Should you wish to see me in person though... that could be arranged. The choice is yours.” 

He wanted to meet you. He cared about you and felt attached. He didn’t think your comments were weird or uncomfortable. He also was a stranger and technically stalker. Yet, he had never made you feel threatened. And you were feeling quite lonely. 

“Okay, um, if you don’t mind me being kind of a mess right now... could you just maybe knock on the door or something? If you just appear somewhere I might have a heart attack,” you wrote before you could overthink your way out of it. If this was how you were gonna die, so be it. Death by loneliness. Dying for a hug. 

“Of course, my dear. I would never want to risk that.” 

You felt like, if he were the type to use emojis, this message would have some kind of smiling or laughing one behind it. It probably wouldn’t be long before he’d arrive so you rushed to at least brush your hair and wash your face, but that was all you managed. The knocking sounded firm and strong, but still measured. Taking one more calming breath, you reached for the door and opened it. 

The person before you certainly was a sight to behold, and you couldn’t help but stare in amazement. The first thing you noticed was that he was tall enough to almost hit his head on the doorframe, which you then discovered was due to the quite unique boots he was wearing. Shiny, black leather reached past his knees, though you did not allow your gaze to linger too long, that matched his equally shiny gloves which went halfway up his upper arm. His white shirt was buttoned up all the way, and silky, waist-length black hair fell over a green coat. 

“It’s really you,” you said, internally cringing at the profundity of the statement. 

He chuckled in response, the sound alone making you want to squeal, and replied, “I would certainly hope so. I don’t know who else I would be.” 

You realised that you couldn’t make out his face, it seemingly being covered by some kind of dark material, but you decided not to care, “Uh, well then, come in.” 

The scent sandalwood lingered in the air as he walked past you, and every fibre of your being wanted to just throw yourself into his arms. As if it wasn’t enough for him to be kind and attentive, he also had to have a nice voice and smell good. Obviously.  

Closing the door behind him took less time than you would have wanted it to because now you were faced with the decision of what to do. Sure, you’d “threatened” to hug him, but he probably did not actually want that to just happened. You’d at least have to ask. Which would be awkward. What were you even doing? 

“My love, are you feeling okay? You seem tense. If you changed your mind-”, he began but you interrupted him before you could stop yourself, “No no, it’s okay I’m alright, just nervous because I guess I kind of didn’t expect this to even happen and I’m not good with people and I don’t know what to do because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or regret having come here or get annoyed or end up feeling disappointed because I’m just. I’m just... me.” 

You felt him look at you despite being unable to see his eyes and watched him slowly extend a hand towards you, like he was approaching a scared animal and trying not to scare it, “I think that it could help you to sit down for a moment, if that is alright with you?” 

You just nodded, grabbing his hand like a lifeline, and let him lead you to the living room. Maybe it should have been disconcerting how well he knew the layout of your home, but at this moment you were relieved. Breathing was hard and your heart was racing while your mind refused to focus. The softness of the sofa cushions barely registered to your brain, and it was only when you felt the cool leather of his gloves clasping your hands that you were able to somewhat centre yourself. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what- I mean why, or-”, you started, voice shaky and rough, but the Patron – your Patron – stopped you, “There is nothing to apologise for, you just got a little overwhelmed, it happens. What matters is that you are back here now, alright? I’ve got you; you are safe.” 

He handed you a glass filled with water and steadied your still shaking hand while you emptied the whole thing, but when he offered to refill it, you shook your head. Instead, you hesitantly reached for his hand and gently tugged, trying to get him to sit next to you. He watched you for a moment, seeming to be thinking, before lowering himself onto the sofa next to you. Without another thought you let yourself fall against him, clinging to his arm before he gently removed it to put it around you instead, allowing you to rest against his chest. 

The fabric of his shirt was soft under your hand, and the heat of his body along with his steady heartbeat were slowly calming your nerves. His hair tickled your cheek but you didn’t mind, just closing your eyes and trying to focus on the different sensations. The weight of his arm holding you, the way his soft breath brushed over the hair on your head. The scent of sandalwood, more prominent on him than in the air, but also a hint of something citrusy, plus the smell and coffee and books. It was comforting on such a deep level, you wanted to just sink into the feeling, let his warmth envelope you, melt against him and don’t think anymore. 

You felt yourself dozing off and sat up lightly and were about to apologise but the Patron was faster, “It’s alright, my sweet muse, you can sleep. You need rest.” 

He was right, and you didn’t have the energy to argue, so you just returned to your previous position. 

“Will you wake me so I can go to bed before you leave?” you managed to mumble, already half asleep. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” was his only response and you drifted off to the sound of his heartbeat, feeling a sense of safety and calm you hadn’t experienced in a long time. 

The Patron is @solmints-messyocdiary's OC

taggedy tag-tag: @bluecoolr @ace-of-hearts-and-spades @visceravalentines @probably-a-plant-thing @rottent33th @the-pinstriped-hood @cyanide-latte @goldrose-star @myers-meadow @immortal-velociraptor @devil-doll13 @shonkgobonk @darklylucid

[friendshapedplant]

[Video Description: Portrait video of Atticus dressed in cosplay, specifically Dracula from Hylics and Biker from Hotline Miami, as it shows off Cosgears Cosplay Planner App. Screen recordings of the app are also often used, showing off certain sections as they are brought up. Lo-fi music plays in the background. /End VD.]

Oh yeah I got hash tag sponsored to share about this app I use alot :0 Gettin paid to share this but tis all my own words and thoughts and experiences.

Aforementioned link since Tumblr doesnt work like Insta and I primarily made this for Insta lmao

Transcript and additional description details of the video under the cut!

Cosplayers! What are your methods for tracking and planning your cosplays? Notes app? Notebook? Spreadsheet? Your brain? (How do you manage?) If I may propose another tool, Cosgear's cosplay planner!

[Dracula cosplay pops up, poses to emphasize curiosity and then demonstrates examples.]

This website and app have been in development for around a year, and I've been using it just as long. Its honestly my favorite way to organize my processes. You've got a section for your basics, like the character, series, budget, and deadline, and of course a place to put your tasks like what to buy and what to make. I love that the tasks can be organized by what part of the cosplay it pertains to, like weapon or helmet or pants, whatever you want! Theres also a nifty view for just the things you need to buy, ideal for shopping trips so your list is all in one place.

[Dracula scrolling the app, some screen recordings as well.]

I've been using this app to help me work on Biker from Hotline Miami. Being able to go step by step through each piece has been so satisfying, and I can store progress photos in the app as evidence of my work if I were to ever do a cosplay contest! (Which I might be we'll see)

[Teaser of Biker cosplay from the back, shows off specifically stuff with Biker in app.]

Another fun thing you can do with those progress photos? Theres a built-in social media feed where you can post your progress, including sharing your techniques and materials! Progress photos on Instagram can be hit or miss for engagement, but in a place built around progress, it makes sense to have, and I've found some real neat work!

[Scrolls personal work in progress posts.]

On your profile, each cosplay has a page, where again you can add materials and techniques, as well as share links and even your shopping list. Good cosplayers don't gatekeep!

[Cosplay page for Biker, shows mentioned features.]

Or if you don't want to mess with any of that social media stuff? Totally fine, it's all optional. Cosplays can be made private, the Planner is your landing page, and hype can be hidden.

[Scroll profile and cosplays, shows hype hide setting.]

Final thing, this tool is constantly being updated and worked on. There's ocasional bugs and maybe theres things you'd like to see that aren't already around. There's a discord server for that! The Cosgear team is super open to suggestions and because of people like me, the community reference library requires sources for its images.

[More cosplay scrolling, show off references library for Link from Legend of Zelda.]

And I didn't even get to talk about the reference libaray! There's so many resources built into the app to try and make your process as streamlined and convenient as possible. Why not give it a shot? I'll have a link in my bio, go give it a look!

[Scrolls posts again, final shot is Dracula cosplay waving phone with cosplay plans at the camera.]

[studypoetry]

The pixilation from re-downloading this picture I took makes it look more like a painting

To move on as if I totally didn't abandon this blog for three months, I'll give a swift update:

Submitted last assignments. Slept for weeks. Deleted social media (more on that later). Watched a lot of films...

... And now things are just starting to pick up again with arbitrary, here-and-there meetings and events. So I intend to get back on my game.

This is done, of course, by using the ancient wisdom of Cal Newport. I dug through his old Study Hacks blog seeking advice for college students (as now he mainly talks about careers), and found what he calls the 3x3 method.

In short, this involves focusing on three big projects for each of the three months of summer (June, July, August). Whilst I approach the aptly timed existential crisis that is my birthday (mid-July, especially entering my 20s D:), it's the opportune time for some re-thinking and renewing in this not-quite-on, not-quite-off period between now and September.

As we're already 10 days into June, I thought it best to blog about as soon as possible rather than at the end of August where I would probably over-exaggerate my success.

So far I've chosen two things to work on in June, one habit and one actual project:

Promoting healthier sleep by: reducing screen time before bed; keeping my phone away from my bed (very important); and trying to get 8hrs of sleep between respectable times. (This may seem like the regime of a child with controlling parents but it's literally baby steps for me to fix this right now).

Organise and run a prison creative art exhibition. This one has been in the works for some time now but will finally come to fruition at the end of the month. I just have to keep playing my part in the planning and be on hand to deliver a good show when we launch :)

I have no ideas for a third thing for June (unless you count trying to stay as informed as possible for the upcoming UK elections), but I'd rather focus on doing two things really well than three not done at all. Hopefully it's the solution to feeling you have nothing to do during summer, and consequently ending up having nothing to show for it come September.

As always, Days of Deep Work has been chuntering away in the background, although I'm starting to think I'm just documenting when I've had to do something rather than chosen to, which defeats the point of deep work. Regardless, it's a good record of my activities for the sake of this blog (I'll try to do it more consciously in future):

Recent highlights from 100dodw #43-#54

Reflective log assignment submission

Society socials

Course rep interview (got position renewed!)

VLE welcome space moderation

Prison resources and art exhibition planning

BPS textbook student review

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Scared to Death: Part Three

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

"Okay, we know this guy used Wildwood Trail as his personal graveyard for six months. That site's been blown for him now, which means that he's been forced to change part of his MO," Derek starts off the profile meeting. "Which won't be easy for somebody who thrives on being in control. The reason that he's gotten away with these first three murders is that he's been meticulous at every stage, from how he chooses his victims to their torture and their burial."

"To us, his victims appear to be nonspecific. Other than being new to Portland, all they seem to have shared was a torturous death," Emily adds.

"You think the unsub chooses them for another reason?" Bill asks.

"We think so."

"The tortures lack a sexual component, which is incredibly rare. I think it's more about not necessarily about exerting power, but more like overcompensating for a lack of it," Spencer explains.

"This guy craves control. He's coming from a place of weakness, trying to demonstrate strength. Now we see this a lot in unsubs who've been abused. The lack of sexual assault could be as simple as the fact that he's impotent, something that he's trying to hide," you say.

"A man who is obsessed with control most likely feels powerless in his everyday life. So, he would crave stability and security. He's most likely married. If he is impotent, he could keep up appearances by adopting children."

"Yeah, and someone this methodical has every moment planned. If he is captured, he'd most likely take his own life rather than give up any sort of control."

"The victims' lack of defensive wounds suggest that they willingly put themselves in danger. So, someone of authority or otherwise easily trusted put them up to this," you note. "Also, the victims' families were led to believe their loved ones were alive and well through emails written by this murderer."

"He's calculating, and he's intelligent, and we're going to have to do something that he's not expecting."

"Like what?" Bill wonders.

"Like warn his potential victims."

JJ sets up a press conference immediately after the briefing is over so she can control the media by using them to get to the public. She will be releasing the profile to them, and you have a TV in the station to watch her. You know that there will be some people watching who will call to give up information. It may not be accurate information, but you know that her message is working.

"We found the remains of four victims on Wildwood Trail. Two women and two men, all in their twenties, all transferred to Portland. Because the victims have this in common, we are confident that the person we're looking for latches on to people new to the city. He chooses them because they make for easier targets. If you are young and new to Portland, or if you know someone that is, please call the number on your screen for more detailed information about how to stay out of a dangerous situation. We believe the person that we're looking for is able to fit into many surroundings--"

You're watching JJ on TV when the phone at the desk you're sitting at rings. You reach over and grab the phone, putting it to your ear. Hopefully, this person has useful information. When you answer, you can clearly hear a dog continuously bark in the background.

"Hello?"

"Yes, I didn't know who to call about this. One of my tenants, Patrick Walker, moved to Portland for grad school, and he's been missing." The dog continues to bark, and the woman huffs in annoyance. "Lucy, it's okay. It's okay."

"Ma'am, how long has Patrick been missing?"

"Since this morning. I know that that sounds crazy, but Patrick sticks to a routine. I tease him that he's more predictable than I am. He jogs while I'm watching the morning shows and walks to class with his backpack after that. He--he's always home for lunch. That's when he walks Lucy."

"You're in his apartment right now? Does anything look out of the ordinary? Is his backpack there still?" you ask.

"Yes."

"Well, we know he's not in class then."

"Why would he just leave like this?"

"I don't know. I appreciate you calling and letting us know. I am going to let you talk to one of the officers here so he can gather your information."

You call over an officer and hand over the phone because you have more pressing issues to deal with. You know Patrick is dead, but you hope to God that you're wrong. However, when two hours have passed, you heard of another body popping up. It could very well be Patrick's body, but you have to go to the crime scene to confirm.

You, Emily, and Derek go to the crime scene while the rest of the team stays at the station to work the case from there. The body is found at a nearby lake since the victim has drowned, and since the body is fresh, you'll be able to see the final moments before the victim died.

"Local police ID'd the body. It's Patrick Walker. He's got deep abrasions and bruises on his neck and shoulders," Bill says to you three when you arrive.

"Shit, I knew it," you mutter under your breath.

"I'm going to go see if they found anything else in the water," Derek says.

"I know his landlady called you about this guy missing, but what makes you think this is related?" Bill asks you.

"He fits the profile of our victims. He's the same age, lives alone, and is new to the city. But he wasn't buried like everybody else."

Something isn't right about this case, but you feel like you're right at the tip of things. Patrick is trying to tell you something, and it can only be told if you see him.

"Well, they found a rope at the bottom of the river, but that's probably been there for years. A couple feet out, they found this," Derek says when he comes back, holding up a blue object in his hands. "It's a shepherd's crook. Lifeguards and rescue workers use it."

"Oh, I bet he didn't use it for safety," Emily scoffs.

"We haven't seen any evidence of a struggle with the other bodies. This is the first one." Derek hands off the item to another officer for prepping. "Do you remember any open cases involving suspicious drownings?"

"Since I've been in Portland, we've had two or three. I can call the office and get the files to your other agents. Maybe they can make a connection."

"Thank you."

"I'm going to check out the body," you say.

You grab some gloves on your way down to the water's edge where Patrick's body is. You lean down and touch the area with the bruises, and it's like you're connected to Patrick's spirit. You look toward the water and see someone out there, but only their eyes can be seen. You look down at Patrick's body and force one eye open, realizing that the person in the water is Patrick.

You look back at the spirit of Patrick, staring into his eyes. There is so much emotion and feelings in his eyes. They beg you to listen to his story, but what kind of story would they tell? How he died? How he suffered? He drowned, but why? Could he not swim? If not, why did he get into the water? Did he have a fear of it?

Your eyes widen when you figure out why the MOs are different.

You remove your hands from Patrick and head back to your team, shedding the gloves. Derek has Hotch on the phone to exchange theories about the case.

"Hey, that landlady Y/N spoke to was right to be worried. We just found Patrick Walker dead in a river."

"Fire, hanging, and asphyxiation. Now we've got a drowning."

"I have a theory, Hotch."

"I'm all ears."

"It occurred to me when we almost got stuck in the elevator earlier, but just now, I know it to be true. I saw Patrick's spirit in the water. He wouldn't have gone into the water because he couldn't swim. He couldn't swim because he had a fear of it. I have a fear of being burned alive. All these deaths are associated with a fear or an anxiety of something. A phobia."

"So it's all about fear. These people are being killed by their fears."

"With that being said, our unsub could be a therapist or a psychologist. Someone you might tell your fears to."

"Good work. Head back. I want you guys to scout the area."

You and Spencer were paired together (shocker), and Emily and Derek were paired together. One of the things that your victims have in common are the places that they lived. Someone must have seen something if they all live in the same areas. You and Spencer are in one town while the other two in a neighboring town.

"Spencer, are you doing okay?" you ask, stopping outside of a laundromat.

"Oh, I'm--I'm great."

"Do you want to talk about it?

"Talk about what?"

"Gideon."

You knew from the moment he came to your rescue this morning that he was upset Gideon left a letter instead of saying goodbye in person. You've been wanting to talk about it all day, but you had other things to do.

"Oh, no, he left a letter explaining everything. Just like my dad did when he abandoned me and my mom."

"Spencer," you sigh.

"Yeah, yeah. You know, Gideon stood toe to toe with some of the sickest people on this planet. I think that took a lot of courage, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, why'd he do this? It's addressed to me, but I'm--I'm not--I'm not the only one that he abandoned."

"Spencer, first, Gideon is not your dad. What your dad did is terrible, but Gideon isn't like that and you know it. That man has been through so much, even before we were born. He was never the one to openly talk about his feelings. When Frank took away the last thing he ever had, the last person he ever felt safe with, he couldn't take it anymore. He didn't abandon you or anyone here. There is a reason that he left you and only you a letter. I think you need to reread that letter to find out why."

You lean up and kiss Spencer on the cheek to let him know you're here for him if he needs it. You head into the laundromat to see the kind of people here, giving Spencer some time alone if he needs it. He enters a few seconds later, immediately heading to the vending machines on the back wall.

"Derek said this is the laundromat closest to Patrick Walker's apartment building. So, we have washers and dryers, and we have a bulletin board," you say and stare at the bulletin board covered in papers.

"Snack machine," Spencer grins, holding up a bag of pretzels.

"Yeah, I don't think he's luring them with pretzels." You take a careful look at the board again, noticing something off about it. "Look at this. All of these things are normal, but look at this paper. 'Participate in a controls research project, and you'll receive $100 to get over your anxieties.'"

"You only have to attend two sessions?"

"I guess. It's easy money."

"Just one stub is taken."

"$100 that Patrick took it. Now we know how our unsub is luring his victims to him."

Just then, Derek walks into the laundromat with Emily.

"Hey, well, Patrick Walker just joined a pretty sweet boxing gym, but that's about it. Did you guys find anything? Well, I think we should go over to victim number two's coffee shop, see if any of these are hanging around."

"I think we figured out how he's luring his victims," you say and yank the paper off the bulletin board.

"Let's do it."

wanna be tagged? add yourself to this document! if your tag has a strike through it or it’s not linked, it means doesn’t work. find out why!

@averyhotchner​ @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel​ @fan-girl-97​ @inkstainedwritergirl​ @estrela-rogers​ @kwbaby24​ @redsalv20​ @joonie-centric​ @xs​ @sixpencespencee​ @boygenius-reid​ @meganskane​ @prophecyflame​ @babydee17​ @darlingisntit​ @fandoms4ever97​ @spencerreid-187​ @snakeythesnake​ @nomajdetective​ @scarletstarrs​ @hc-geralt-23​ @fairytalesforever​ @bluetreecloud20​ @lucyysthings​ @slightlyvicked​ @zephyrmonkey​ @aysixdy​

[mxsonxmountx]

KA x leaving on loan

Word count: 739                                       

Requested: Yes/No

Bold: Kepa

Italics: you

--

Being best friends with Kepa had its pros and cons, and today you was about to get the biggest cons on them all. He was going on loan to Real Madrid until June. You and Kepa did everything together, where you was he wasn’t far behind you, vice versa. You was over the moon for him since you was hoping he’d improve on his skills, but it felt like you was missing something. You found over like everyone else from social media, you was supposed to be seeing him later that night but you didn’t want to face him, not because you didn’t want to face him, more of the fact if you saw him now then it would hurt even more.

The worst that you could think of was him leaving for good, you told yourself over and over that it was just a loan and nothing else. You decided to lay on the sofa with a blanket with the TV on in the background to cut out the silence. Your phone went off constantly and you wanted to talk to him but you fighter against it and ignored it, praying that he’d get the hint. All you wanted to do was sleep and block everything out.

--

Kepa’s POV:

“Ben man she isn’t answering, I need to talk to her” “have you told her how you feel about her yet?” “No but-” “why Kepa why? You’re now going on loan, you’re not just leaving us behind but you’ll end up leaving her behind too. You need to tell her. You have access to her place still right?” “I know ben, I know. I’m scared to tell her if anything. You know how long we’ve been friends, I can’t ruin it for her, for us. I do why?” “Go round there, talk to her, cook her dinner and explain everything to her”. I had to tell her how I really feel about her before I lose her for good. I know for a fact when I do come back to Chelsea that I’ll have her still there supporting me but I need to do something about it. I got in my car after trying to call her again and there still wasn’t any answer, I went straight to the supermarket to get some ingredients to cook for her tonight and give her some flowers. I knew flowers wasn’t going to make up for it but it’s the thought that counts.

­­

--

I wake up to the sound of someone’s keys turning in my door, the only person that’s got access to my flat is Kepa, and surely he wouldn’t be here? Wrong. He came through the door with bags of food and the biggest bouquet of flowers that you’ve ever seen. “Kep, what are you doing here?” “I’m here because I needed to talk to you, you’ve ignored all my calls. We need to talk” “what is there to talk about? You couldn’t even tell me that you was going on loan to a whole new country?! I had to find out like everyone else on social media? I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other?” “We don’t, that’s why I’m here for. You don’t realise how hard it was to not tell you, let me explain over dinner? Please?” “Fine whatever Kepa” “please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry, I love you and I want you to come with me” you couldn’t believe what he’s just said to you, yes you had feelings for him, but you did everything you could to try to hide it. “Mad at you? I’m not mad at you, I’m more annoyed at you. Were supposed to be best friends Kepa?” “We are friends, you know that we are. Please just come with me. Please I need you. I leave in a months’ time, please I’m begging”  “just go Kepa please, just leave me” and with that, he went. No trying to argue with you, nothing.

--

A few weeks have passed and the contact with Kepa has been limited but you’ve been on a few dates together which leaded up to becoming his girlfriend. You agreed to make your own way to the airport with your family, you said your farewell to the Chelsea boys who came with Kepa. “Are you ready my love” “I’m ready” you both got on the plane ready to leave London until next season.

[ingek73]

You may not like Prince Harry but his win against the Mirror is huge – and he’s not finished yet

James Hanning

Piers Morgan now has a problem, but so too does much of the press. It is in the crosshairs of a man on a mission

James Hanning is a former deputy editor of the Independent on Sunday and author of The News Machine

Here’s a thought for key sections of the British press: be afraid, be very afraid. Prince Harry’s battle with the Mirror Group (MGN) and his success today will come as no surprise to those who have studied the working methods of the red-top newspapers over the last few decades, so brace yourself for more revelations. The availability of the technology to snoop on their targets made it daft, in a highly competitive market, not to hack phones. If it looked as if the other side was doing it – and the law requires us to say that there is no confirmation that the Sun was indeed doing so – then you would be missing a trick not to do it yourself.

How did it work? Initially, it was done by experts sitting in dingy suburban offices, but then the editors and their accountants realised there was no need for the experts, and it became a free-for-all. Why pay for a hack to stand on someone’s doorstep when you could get someone in the office to do some “finger-fishing”, as it was sometimes called, on any number of people?

Anyone could have a go. The only time the experts were needed was when hacks were snooping on one another, trying to find out who was having an affair with whom. Damn them, they kept changing their pin codes.

All this was denied for years, of course. No, no. Anything the press did was in the public interest, though that was debatable, and certainly not in the face of laws designed to stop illegal snooping. One newspaper even had a “hack off” contest, to see who could hack the most phones in a given period. It was won by a senior executive who has so far escaped justice.

About a dozen years ago, I was told that a senior executive on a red-top paper had suggested to the police that there be an amnesty for phone hackers. He knew how widespread and how normal it was. He knew it was systemic and smiled upon, and had been made indispensable by bosses, but to my knowledge the police dropped the idea pretty quickly. The bad guys would have got off without penalty, and any number of Milly Dowler moments – the hacking of that murdered girl’s phone by the News of the World – would have been buried.

Which is why the judgment against MGN is just the start. The judge ruled that there was extensive phone hacking between 2006 and 2011. He also found that Piers Morgan, who was forced to resign from the Mirror in 2004, knew about phone hacking. He even called it a “little trick”, yet he denied on oath to the Leveson inquiry knowing anything about it. His own position will now surely come under scrutiny.

You may or may not like Prince Harry. You may think he is a damaged young man who has had too much therapy following the highly public death of his mother. Even allowing for the creation of hateful narratives about the influence and ethnic background of his wife, in most circumstances he would be a candidate for widespread public sympathy, but there is little sign of that in the way his activities are reported.

If you have ever wondered why Prince Harry gets such a bad press, consider the context. For Britain’s most popular newspapers, the backstory is terrifying. This is a man on a mission, and while you may say he is tilting at windmills in trying to reconfigure the British media, it will clearly take more than a bit of personal abuse to stop him. The newspapers may or may not be guilty, but the legal costs, let alone the reputational ones, of trying to prove their innocence, and the costs of defending subsequent claims from aggrieved celebrities, will be breathtaking.

Having done a small amount of work investigating this area, I think I know that few cupboards are entirely skeleton-free. Some of the activities that went on can arguably be defended as public interest journalism. But many fail the test set by the great Harry Evans (of Sunday Times fame), which is as follows. If a journalist is considering using subterfuge or doing something ethically questionable, he or she should ask themselves this question: when I come to write up this story, will I be willing to confess to the reader exactly which ethical corner I cut? In other words, will the reader be willing to say that, say, in pursuit of a paedophile I invented a false story, or whatever, then that was fair enough?

That simple test is surely a good basis for any such discussion, and should help dismiss any notion that trawling through celebrities’ private lives – all of which perpetuates a market that needs to be fed – has any conceivable wider public interest. Tittle-tattle may be hard to define, but you know it when you see it.

Quite how things have come to this ought to be a mystery, but it isn’t. The former Press Complaints Commission was asleep at the wheel and almost completely failed to keep tabs on how new technology had made unlawful snooping a piece of cake. And the police crossed their fingers and hoped that, after a few junior execs had gone to prison and a lot of money had been spent, the last-chance saloon had learned its lesson. They had no idea of the depth of the problem, that there was in effect a boozy lock-in going on. That is the party Harry and his friends want to break up, and he, Elton John and others have the money to do it.

James Hanning is a former deputy editor of the Independent on Sunday and author of The News Machine, about the phone hacking at the News of the World