#agree that one of the responses should have been “the airport” - would work for some folks anyway

[dekaydk]

Well, you tell me which is faster to say: "SFO" or "San Francisco Airport"? And in LA, no one says anything other than "LAX".

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How I got scammed

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/05/cyber-dunning-kruger/#swiss-cheese-security

I wuz robbed.

More specifically, I was tricked by a phone-phisher pretending to be from my bank, and he convinced me to hand over my credit-card number, then did $8,000+ worth of fraud with it before I figured out what happened. And then he tried to do it again, a week later!

Here's what happened. Over the Christmas holiday, I traveled to New Orleans. The day we landed, I hit a Chase ATM in the French Quarter for some cash, but the machine declined the transaction. Later in the day, we passed a little credit-union's ATM and I used that one instead (I bank with a one-branch credit union and generally there's no fee to use another CU's ATM).

A couple days later, I got a call from my credit union. It was a weekend, during the holiday, and the guy who called was obviously working for my little CU's after-hours fraud contractor. I'd dealt with these folks before – they service a ton of little credit unions, and generally the call quality isn't great and the staff will often make mistakes like mispronouncing my credit union's name.

That's what happened here – the guy was on a terrible VOIP line and I had to ask him to readjust his mic before I could even understand him. He mispronounced my bank's name and then asked if I'd attempted to spend $1,000 at an Apple Store in NYC that day. No, I said, and groaned inwardly. What a pain in the ass. Obviously, I'd had my ATM card skimmed – either at the Chase ATM (maybe that was why the transaction failed), or at the other credit union's ATM (it had been a very cheap looking system).

I told the guy to block my card and we started going through the tedious business of running through recent transactions, verifying my identity, and so on. It dragged on and on. These were my last hours in New Orleans, and I'd left my family at home and gone out to see some of the pre-Mardi Gras krewe celebrations and get a muffalata, and I could tell that I was going to run out of time before I finished talking to this guy.

"Look," I said, "you've got all my details, you've frozen the card. I gotta go home and meet my family and head to the airport. I'll call you back on the after-hours number once I'm through security, all right?"

He was frustrated, but that was his problem. I hung up, got my sandwich, went to the airport, and we checked in. It was total chaos: an Alaska Air 737 Max had just lost its door-plug in mid-air and every Max in every airline's fleet had been grounded, so the check in was crammed with people trying to rebook. We got through to the gate and I sat down to call the CU's after-hours line. The person on the other end told me that she could only handle lost and stolen cards, not fraud, and given that I'd already frozen the card, I should just drop by the branch on Monday to get a new card.

We flew home, and later the next day, I logged into my account and made a list of all the fraudulent transactions and printed them out, and on Monday morning, I drove to the bank to deal with all the paperwork. The folks at the CU were even more pissed than I was. The fraud that run up to more than $8,000, and if Visa refused to take it out of the merchants where the card had been used, my little credit union would have to eat the loss.

I agreed and commiserated. I also pointed out that their outsource, after-hours fraud center bore some blame here: I'd canceled the card on Saturday but most of the fraud had taken place on Sunday. Something had gone wrong.

One cool thing about banking at a tiny credit-union is that you end up talking to people who have actual authority, responsibility and agency. It turned out the the woman who was processing my fraud paperwork was a VP, and she decided to look into it. A few minutes later she came back and told me that the fraud center had no record of having called me on Saturday.

"That was the fraudster," she said.

Oh, shit. I frantically rewound my conversation, trying to figure out if this could possibly be true. I hadn't given him anything apart from some very anodyne info, like what city I live in (which is in my Wikipedia entry), my date of birth (ditto), and the last four digits of my card.

Wait a sec.

He hadn't asked for the last four digits. He'd asked for the last seven digits. At the time, I'd found that very frustrating, but now – "The first nine digits are the same for every card you issue, right?" I asked the VP.

I'd given him my entire card number.

Goddammit.

The thing is, I know a lot about fraud. I'm writing an entire series of novels about this kind of scam:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

And most summers, I go to Defcon, and I always go to the "social engineering" competitions where an audience listens as a hacker in a soundproof booth cold-calls merchants (with the owner's permission) and tries to con whoever answers the phone into giving up important information.

But I'd been conned.

Now look, I knew I could be conned. I'd been conned before, 13 years ago, by a Twitter worm that successfully phished out of my password via DM:

https://locusmag.com/2010/05/cory-doctorow-persistence-pays-parasites/

That scam had required a miracle of timing. It started the day before, when I'd reset my phone to factory defaults and reinstalled all my apps. That same day, I'd published two big online features that a lot of people were talking about. The next morning, we were late getting out of the house, so by the time my wife and I dropped the kid at daycare and went to the coffee shop, it had a long line. Rather than wait in line with me, my wife sat down to read a newspaper, and so I pulled out my phone and found a Twitter DM from a friend asking "is this you?" with a URL.

Assuming this was something to do with those articles I'd published the day before, I clicked the link and got prompted for my Twitter login again. This had been happening all day because I'd done that mobile reinstall the day before and all my stored passwords had been wiped. I entered it but the page timed out. By that time, the coffees were ready. We sat and chatted for a bit, then went our own ways.

I was on my way to the office when I checked my phone again. I had a whole string of DMs from other friends. Each one read "is this you?" and had a URL.

Oh, shit, I'd been phished.

If I hadn't reinstalled my mobile OS the day before. If I hadn't published a pair of big articles the day before. If we hadn't been late getting out the door. If we had been a little more late getting out the door (so that I'd have seen the multiple DMs, which would have tipped me off).

There's a name for this in security circles: "Swiss-cheese security." Imagine multiple slices of Swiss cheese all stacked up, the holes in one slice blocked by the slice below it. All the slices move around and every now and again, a hole opens up that goes all the way through the stack. Zap!

The fraudster who tricked me out of my credit card number had Swiss cheese security on his side. Yes, he spoofed my bank's caller ID, but that wouldn't have been enough to fool me if I hadn't been on vacation, having just used a pair of dodgy ATMs, in a hurry and distracted. If the 737 Max disaster hadn't happened that day and I'd had more time at the gate, I'd have called my bank back. If my bank didn't use a slightly crappy outsource/out-of-hours fraud center that I'd already had sub-par experiences with. If, if, if.

The next Friday night, at 5:30PM, the fraudster called me back, pretending to be the bank's after-hours center. He told me my card had been compromised again. But: I hadn't removed my card from my wallet since I'd had it replaced. Also, it was half an hour after the bank closed for the long weekend, a very fraud-friendly time. And when I told him I'd call him back and asked for the after-hours fraud number, he got very threatening and warned me that because I'd now been notified about the fraud that any losses the bank suffered after I hung up the phone without completing the fraud protocol would be billed to me. I hung up on him. He called me back immediately. I hung up on him again and put my phone into do-not-disturb.

The following Tuesday, I called my bank and spoke to their head of risk-management. I went through everything I'd figured out about the fraudsters, and she told me that credit unions across America were being hit by this scam, by fraudsters who somehow knew CU customers' phone numbers and names, and which CU they banked at. This was key: my phone number is a reasonably well-kept secret. You can get it by spending money with Equifax or another nonconsensual doxing giant, but you can't just google it or get it at any of the free services. The fact that the fraudsters knew where I banked, knew my name, and had my phone number had really caused me to let down my guard.

The risk management person and I talked about how the credit union could mitigate this attack: for example, by better-training the after-hours card-loss staff to be on the alert for calls from people who had been contacted about supposed card fraud. We also went through the confusing phone-menu that had funneled me to the wrong department when I called in, and worked through alternate wording for the menu system that would be clearer (this is the best part about banking with a small CU – you can talk directly to the responsible person and have a productive discussion!). I even convinced her to buy a ticket to next summer's Defcon to attend the social engineering competitions.

There's a leak somewhere in the CU systems' supply chain. Maybe it's Zelle, or the small number of corresponding banks that CUs rely on for SWIFT transaction forwarding. Maybe it's even those after-hours fraud/card-loss centers. But all across the USA, CU customers are getting calls with spoofed caller IDs from fraudsters who know their registered phone numbers and where they bank.

I've been mulling this over for most of a month now, and one thing has really been eating at me: the way that AI is going to make this kind of problem much worse.

Not because AI is going to commit fraud, though.

One of the truest things I know about AI is: "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

I trusted this fraudster specifically because I knew that the outsource, out-of-hours contractors my bank uses have crummy headsets, don't know how to pronounce my bank's name, and have long-ass, tedious, and pointless standardized questionnaires they run through when taking fraud reports. All of this created cover for the fraudster, whose plausibility was enhanced by the rough edges in his pitch - they didn't raise red flags.

As this kind of fraud reporting and fraud contacting is increasingly outsourced to AI, bank customers will be conditioned to dealing with semi-automated systems that make stupid mistakes, force you to repeat yourself, ask you questions they should already know the answers to, and so on. In other words, AI will groom bank customers to be phishing victims.

This is a mistake the finance sector keeps making. 15 years ago, Ben Laurie excoriated the UK banks for their "Verified By Visa" system, which validated credit card transactions by taking users to a third party site and requiring them to re-enter parts of their password there:

https://web.archive.org/web/20090331094020/http://www.links.org/?p=591

This is exactly how a phishing attack works. As Laurie pointed out, this was the banks training their customers to be phished.

I came close to getting phished again today, as it happens. I got back from Berlin on Friday and my suitcase was damaged in transit. I've been dealing with the airline, which means I've really been dealing with their third-party, outsource luggage-damage service. They have a terrible website, their emails are incoherent, and they officiously demand the same information over and over again.

This morning, I got a scam email asking me for more information to complete my damaged luggage claim. It was a terrible email, from a noreply@ email address, and it was vague, officious, and dishearteningly bureaucratic. For just a moment, my finger hovered over the phishing link, and then I looked a little closer.

On any other day, it wouldn't have had a chance. Today – right after I had my luggage wrecked, while I'm still jetlagged, and after days of dealing with my airline's terrible outsource partner – it almost worked.

So much fraud is a Swiss-cheese attack, and while companies can't close all the holes, they can stop creating new ones.

Meanwhile, I'll continue to post about it whenever I get scammed. I find the inner workings of scams to be fascinating, and it's also important to remind people that everyone is vulnerable sometimes, and scammers are willing to try endless variations until an attack lands at just the right place, at just the right time, in just the right way. If you think you can't get scammed, that makes you especially vulnerable:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[ughdontbeboring]

Tulum

Heyyyyy buzz cut daddy!

Austin Butler x WoC Reader (but no discerption)

you both are reunited in Tulum and it’s your first time seeing Austin’s buzz cut….

warnings: AUSTINS BUZZ CUT 😮‍💨 and obviously smut

note: im not well so yea I wrote this after seeing Austin buzz cut at 1am on tumblr and everyone freaking out. Some loved it some hated it and I am here for it! I don’t know any man who can pull off long and short AND bald I just don’t. So this is my very horny response to the buzz. I didn’t edit this so oh well. this is not the work I should be working on but i could not control myself after what i seen last night.

Do not give permission for my work to be used anywhere.

if you like it love it fucks with it like, reblog, comment all that good shit! keeps a girl motivated

Also credit to whoever photo this is. I found it without it being credit.

x

Maybe if you were a different kind of women you would feel bad or maybe if you weren’t so absolutely in love and crazy about the man currently rearranging your guts you’d feel something other then what your currently feeling but you couldn’t force yourself to feel bad or ashamed of the completely pornographic sounds spilling from you both. Anyone outside this bed may not even understand how it could be possible for such sounds to be made outside of a porn shoot let alone be real.

Yet here you both were rivaling the best porn scene audio with your shared sounds of pleasure and desire joining the liveliness of the peaceful Mexican jungle at twilight. All it did was turn you on more knowing that people could hear and knowing some guest knew exactly who was staying in this room.

You had only arrived to Mexico a few hours ago. Austin had offered to meet you at the airport so you wouldn’t have to take the hour and half drive alone down to Tulum to meet him but you suggested that he didn’t. You didn’t know how’d you react seeing him at the airport and knowing you’d have to wait over a hour and that’s if traffic was kind to touch him if he was in the car with you. Austin had reluctantly agreed but had used the time wisely to set up the room, give the jungle villa an even more romantic feel with flowers and candles burning. 

Once you entered the villa Austin was on you before you had a moment to register it. His mouth dominating yours and his tongue demanding entrance as his hands frantically felt your body, pulling you up and onto him as you automatically wrapped your legs around his waist, rutting against his growing need.

He wasn’t alone in his neediness. It had been a little over a month since you both seen eachother due to his filming Caught Stealing in NY and you needing to help a family member in another state. The moment Austin found out you were done with what you had to handle he extended his stay at the villa and had you come down not being able to wait another week to see you and knowing Tulum was one of your favorite places. Hence the current reunion even more special. 

Before you two could get far you asked him to take you to the bathroom, you needed a shower after such a long flight and his protest didn’t get far when you started to underdress him to join you.

That was some time ago before you both found yourselves stumbling to the bed after an unnecessary long shower and multiple orgasms in the open space concept, dampening the sheets with bodies that neither had the patience to dry.

The coolness of the shower didn’t last long either, not with the way you were at eachother in the Villa he was in for his stay. The AC could only do so much with the open concept, the quintessential humidity of Tulum seeping in the Villa somehow only escalated the intensity of fucking that was happening on the plush king size bed. The humidity causing both of your bodies to become damp with sweat, another shower before dinner with the crew was going to be necessary especially with how well fucked you know you both looked. Austin’s skin hot and flushed under your touch. 

You just hoped his outfit for the night wouldn’t show the marks you left on his chest. The thought making you smirk, his fans would have a field day. Some loved you and some hated you but none of the hate mattered to you, especially when this was your life and it was with him. 

Austin’s forehead laid on yours after a passionate kiss, his nose nuzzling yours as you both breathed heavily. Your lips still touching.

“Please please miss you so much” you cried out against his swollen full lips. You dont understand how your both not passed out on the floor because you haven’t stopped kissing eachother since you walked in the door. 

“Fuck baby I missed you too” he grunts as he drives his large cock into you harder while kissing all over your face softly. The difference in the tenderness and harshness sending you spiraling. 

“Yea daddy? Fuck you missed me?” You manage to get out. Your brain starting to go empty with anything other then the sound of Austins voice and the feel of him deep inside you. 

“Yea” he says with a little breathless chuckle. “Missed your pretty smile, your cute laugh and miss holding you” he says as he watches your face closely. 

“Fuuuuuckkk” you moan out completely overwhelmed by him and his words in this moment when you’re getting fucked within an inch of your life. How he can think straight is beyond you. 

“Miss how you cry when I’m fucking this tight little pussy just right” he says as his voice deepens along with the deep push of his thick cock that has somehow started to hit a new angle. 

“Oh shit….please please missed your big cock so much!” You cry out loudly as your eyes start to water, you know your only moments away from them falling. 

When he pushes your legs further back you can’t help the scream that rips through you. You’re so gone to the drag of his large thick veiny cock digging you out you hadn’t even notice him put a pillow under you to help him hit deeper at a different angle that has you going blank.

“Yea baby? Missed my big cock huh?” He teases his bright blue eyes watching you as he bumps his nose with yours to try and get you to focus on him.

When your eyes finally open again you feel your breath hitch. You don’t know why just now but it’s like you’re finally noticing his buzz cut and your cunt clenches him in an even tighter vice grip that has his hips off rhythm for a moment.

“Shit” he curses under his breath at your wet grip. He’s always thrown by how it’s even possible for you to be any tighter around him even after all the times he’s fucked you completely open on his cock.

You can’t stop yourself when your hands let go of the pillows that were your poor choice of an anchor before your freshly done nails are running over and down the back of his freshly buzzed hair. 

When he played Feyd you guys had a go in his trailer and it was risky and quick which made you both cum even harder. Once you both realized the effect of the bald cap after he filmed his opening scene you had managed to make it to Budapest for just in time to watch. You both were in his trailer when he noticed that look in your eyes. You were bent over the make up vanity within moments. The door wasn’t even locked when he gripped your hair to steady you as his cock plunged into your warmth. You barely escaped his assistant catching you both. 

But this was real and you didn’t have to worry about running the bald cap. 

“Soooo fu-fucking handsome” you said as your nails continue their exploration of the new very real cut. 

The sensation of your nails over his sensitive scalp, along with your wet grip and that completely fucked, loved up look in your eyes sends him hurdling over the edge. 

“Fuck I’m gonna cum!” He groans loudly as his forehead drops closer to yours.

His buff body suffocating you in the best way with his warm weight pressing you further into the bed. You can’t take it and you want to cum with him so you tighten your legs around his waist. 

“I need it, please I need it so bad daddy, wanna be full of you” you beg as you watch his face overcome with pleasure. “Wanna be so full I’m dripping your cum down my thighs all night in front of everyone” 

Austin can’t hold back any longer especially when you say such nasty shit like that to him while he’s deep inside of you. You both have dinner plans with the crew in about an hour if he’s even guessing right and the thought of you being so full of him around everyone, just dripping his cum because your his completely sends him under a tidal wave of pleasure. He wants you to cum with him again even if he can’t remember at the moment how many he’s giving you since you walked in so he angles his hips just right so he’s pushing into you and rubbing against that pretty pearl of yours. 

He can feel himself let go inside of you and he can’t pull his eyes from your face. Your staring right back at him, he can tell when you feel him emptying inside of you. You get this look he knows well and then the look and shake of your body as you start to cum right in time to join him to ride it out. Your cunt fluttering around his length.

When he nears the end of his, his sweaty face drops into your shoulder as his hips continue short hard thrust into you to ride out the end of both of yours pleasure. He groans as he bites your neck, his large hands slipping under you and gripping the globes of your ass to get a better handle on just how deep he’s fucking into your warmth. The squeals and gasp coming from you after every punch into your cervix causes his own release to prolong until he’s completely spent and empty. 

It’s moments of just harsh breathing and the sound of the Tulum jungle coming more alive with the setting sun that can only be heard. 

With your hands still absentmindedly rubbing his head softly you feel his soft full lips trail up from your shoulder to your ear nipping softly before his face pulls back a bit to look at you look and smile lazily. 

You felt your heart skip a beat. You didn’t know anyone luckier than you. Here you were in the magical Mexican jungle of Tulum on the receiving end of such a beautiful and loved up smile paired with the most beautiful and soft blue eyes being warmed under the weight of such a perfect buff body with a cunt full of cock and leaking cum. Feeling completely satisfied and loved. 

your thumbs rub softly over the roundness of his flushed cheeks.

“Another shower?” he rasps deeply with a soft smile.

“Yea” you say breathlessly, “but just shower, I’m so sore and we’re gonna be late to meet the crew for the finale dinner” you say. You’re trying to be strong but when his cock is still inside of you even if it’s soften and he’s giving you that look you’re not sure if you have the strength to deny him. 

He smiles before pecking your lips and removing himself slowly from inside of you. You can’t stop the grabby hands that make him chuckle as he pulls away from you.

“Don’t worry baby let daddy do all the work this round” he says smugly before he winks at you. 

The prefect moment with the most perfect person.

X

X

I am completely unwell yall I need this man so bad

[wheredafandomat]

Cum fly with me 🛩️

Pilot Loki x stewardess reader au

18+ | contains smut, alcohol, infidelity

It had been another long day at work, smiling at passengers and having to rush down the aisle whenever the call button went off, which was at least twenty times during the last flight. The other air stewardesses decided to let loose together for a night out considering you were all now off of the rota for the next few days. You however decided to head straight to the lounge bar at the airport for a drink before heading home. You made your way towards the bar, swaying your hips purposefully when you spotted the other person already there.

“What can I get you?” The barman asked, polishing a glass as he looked at you.

“Pornstar martini please.” You answered, unlocking your phone to pay before the man already sitting at the bar made some kind of hand gesture to the barman signalling he would pay.

“Are you sure you should be drinking that, not that I mind paying for another?” The man spoke, glancing at you before his eyes traveled up from your legs to your eyes.

“I’m off the clock” you answered, trying to keep your voice even “what about you?” You countered, gesturing to his pilot uniform.

“Non alcoholic.” He answered, tipping his glass towards you.

“Hmm” you hummed in acknowledgment before the barman set your drink down in front of you “thank you.” You took a seat, finally turning your attention to the man who was shamelessly eye fucking you. You could practically see him undressing you. Being in this job, it wasn’t uncommon for men to look at you seductively but this particular man’s gaze left you fighting the urge to clench your thighs together.

“So, come here often?” He asked, dragging his eyes to yours again.

“Yes.” You replied, sipping your drink.

“I don’t think you do, I wouldn’t have forgotten that pretty face” he smiled causing you to smile “or that beautiful smile” he added causing your simper to widen “gosh, aren’t you beautiful.” He finished, eyes lingering on you for a moment before he took a sip of his drink. He set his drink down again, looking at you some more as you smiled flirtatiously, prompting him to speak again. “Well, since you’re off the clock and this is obviously your first time here, how about I show you around?” He suggested.

“I’ve been here before, I know my way around.” You quipped.

“But there are so many places I can show you, places I’m sure you’re yet to explore.” He insisted, gesturing around with his left hand before realising his mistake and putting his hand back in his pocket, back in hiding, but it was too late.

“I saw that.” You spoke, hinting at the wedding ring he was hiding. He only smirked in response. “You’re sure the Mrs won’t mind?” You questioned causing him to nit his brows “you know, showing me around, helping me explore?”

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” He winked.

“Fine then Mr pilot, off we go.” You agreed, quickly finishing your drink.

“Please, Loki is fine.” He insisted.

“Mmm, Loki.” You answered, letting the syllables fall from your lips. Loki nodded, biting his lip as he watched you speak.

“Say it again.” He requested.

“Lo—ki.” You said slower.

*🛩️🛩️🛩️*

“So, this is the—” Loki began, gesturing to something before you cut him off, slamming your lips onto his. Wrapping his arms around you, he kissed you back with the same intensity, walking you backwards until your back hit the wall with a thud. The kiss grew sloppy, both of you moaning into it as your hands explored one another’s bodies. Lokis tongue slipped past your parted lips, into your mouth before you sucked onto it, Lokis hips pinning you into place so you could feel his growing erection straining against his trousers. You broke the kiss, catching your breath as Lokis lips travelled across your neck, occasionally nipping at your jaw. Your breathing grew ragged as your head fell back against the wall granting Loki further access, his lips travelling lower. Once he reached the top of your shirt, he began undoing the buttons, kissing your chest as more and more of it was exposed before he was licking across your stomach. Looking down at him, you grabbed his pilot hat, exposing his inky locks before putting it on your head. His lips travelled lower but you prompted him to stand up, there was one thing you needed right now, the rest could wait.

Once he was standing again, you helped him take his blazer off, kissing each other in the process. You began undoing Lokis tie before he stopped you, taking it off himself and placing his tie around your neck before undoing his top button. He already looked different, more relaxed, sexier.

“The rest stays on.” He spoke firmly causing you to nod in reply.

His fingers found the zip on your skirt before he undone it, allowing it to pool on the floor. He pulled his trousers down enough to free his cock before picking your hand up and bringing it to your mouth.

“Spit” he ordered “good girl.” He praised once you did before guiding your hand towards his length. You wrapped your hand around his cock, spreading your saliva along it as you grew wetter and wetter in anticipation. Once he was lathered enough, his hips pinned you to the wall again before he lifted you. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he pulled your thin, soaked underwear to the side, guiding himself towards your entrance as he angled up into you. You gasped as he pushed inside, filling you completely.

“Fuck.” You mewled in his ear as he moved you up and down his hard shaft. He was grunting and groaning in your ear before he nipped your earlobe causing you to moan louder. He was practically slamming into you, sweat beading on his forehead as he fucked you mercilessly against the wall. Your back was hot from the friction of sliding up and down the wall so vigorously; there were no doubt burns forming but all pain was quickly converted into pleasure as Loki entered you.

“This cunt was made for me” he gritted out, still burying himself inside of you, hitting that perfect spot “say it.”

“T-this c—” you stuttered, unable to speak.

“Say it.” He commanded again, pulling almost completely out of you.

“This cunt was made for you!” You rushed out, moaning once he slid back inside.

“You take me so well, gripping me like that” he spoke incoherently between groans “fuck, I can feel you clenching around me” he said almost painfully before his lips found your ear “trying to make me cum? Want my cum? Hmm?” He whispered like a dirty secret.

“Yes, fuck yesss.” You cried out.

“Yeah, want me to fill you up?” He continued. You could feel him smirking against you “want me to make you a mother?”

“Oh my god Loki” You almost screamed at his words, back arching off of the wall as you reached your climax, Loki pressing his lips to yours as your walls thrummed around him, spurring his own orgasm. He stilled inside of you, ejaculating as you swallowed down his gasp “don’t tease me.” You finished breathlessly.

“Who said anything about teasing?” He smiled, riding through his high before lowering you as he pulled out. You pulled your skirt up, zipping it back up before doing your buttons up. Loki sheathed himself before taking his tie back that was still around your neck. He fastened it before taking his hat back too.

“It appears you’ve got something on your trousers Mr Laufeyson.” You smiled as Loki readjusted his ring.

“It’s also dripping down your legs, Mrs Laufeyson.” He answered smugly as your eyes rounded. You looked down, realising he was lying.

“You actually do have something though.” You pointed at his trousers.

“It’s a combination of our love.” He grinned.

“Ew, don’t make me puke.” You laughed. “Go and clean yourself up, you’ve got spares in your locker.”

“Praise the Lord for my doting wife.” He smiled, kissing you. “Soon to be milf.” He added, groping you.

“We’ll see Loki, we’ll see.” You laughed, pushing him away as you heard nearby voices. Walking out of the room, you spotted Bucky and Steve who were also pilots and Lokis coworkers. “Hello boys.” You smiled at them as you passed. Both of their eyes followed you before Loki slapped their heads when he came out behind you.

“S-sorry.” Steve apologised awkwardly causing Bucky to narrow his gaze at him.

“She’s mine.” Loki spoke almost dreamily as he watched you walk away.

Loki you lil role play slut 😂

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[gravityskittles]

Chapter 7: The Hands of Time are Fickle Things

Stan fidgeted nervously with the straps on his backpack. He didn’t like airports. He hadn’t been in one since his ill-fated trip to London back in the seventies. Even back then the amount of security had made him anxious. Now it made him feel a little bit like he was drowning.

A quick glance down at his watch told him it was just past two in the morning. Their flight out of Anchorage would be leaving in around an hour and they were waiting at the gate for the plane to arrive. Well, Stan was waiting. Ford had left a while ago to look for some coffee, leaving him alone with their bags.

Every five minutes some form of airport security would wander by, and every single time Stan felt like they were a moment away from grabbing him and hauling him off to some interrogation room somewhere and–No. That wasn’t going to happen, he was fine. He knew that it was okay. Ford had gotten him off the no-fly list, and had double and triple checked their luggage before they left the boat to make sure there was absolutely no reason for them to be stopped by TSA. He’d even made Stan put his brass knuckles in their checked baggage just in case. Stan didn’t think that the sleepy little False Pass airport would have cared very much if he’d had them in his carry-on, but Ford had insisted it was better to be safe than sorry. In the end he’d agreed only somewhat begrudgingly.

Another security guard walked by, and Stan felt his whole body stiffen in response. Cursing under his breath he pulled out his sweater project from his backpack. He almost hadn’t brought it. Their first plane out of False Pass hadn’t left until midnight so they had spent a few hours cleaning up the Stan O’ War II. Mostly they were making sure she was weatherproofed for the potential of at least a couple of months at anchor.

Then, Ford had gone off into the marina to settle up their advanced mooring payment, while Stan packed for both of them. The knitting project had been one of the first things he pulled out, but just looking at it made him feel a wave of fear and grief for Mabel and Dipper. In the end though he shoved it in, telling himself that bringing it meant he believed everything was going to turn out okay. Bringing it along meant he was planning to give it to Mabel. A healthy, living Mabel who was going to make it to her seventeenth birthday.

Besides, at least it was something to do with his hands. He took a deep breath and began to work slowly, doing his best not to drop stitches as he went. By the time Ford appeared with a cup of coffee and a breakfast danish for him, he’d gotten lost in stitch counting and the tinny elevator music playing over the speakers in the concourse.

“Apologies, that took longer than I had anticipated.”

Stan jumped slightly, and then cursed himself silently as he saw Ford take a worried step back.

“No worries. You jus’ startled me is all. Forgot where we were for a moment.” He responded gruffly, shoving the knitting supplies back into his bag and taking the coffee from Ford’s hand. He glanced up at his brother and sighed as he saw genuine fear spark in Ford’s eyes. “I don’t mean actually forgot, Sixer. My memory’s fine today. I just got a bit caught up in stitching, the security was makin’ me nervous.”

“Oh.” Visibly relieved, Ford sank down into the chair opposite him, and pulled out their laptop from his bag. “We should be able to start boarding soon, I just want to see if we’ve gotten any word from Fiddleford.”

Stan shook his head, amused. Someday he really needed to teach his brother to hide his emotions better. He took a sip of his coffee and gave an appreciative hum, it was sweet and light, exactly how he liked it. Back when he was still regaining his memories, Ford had tried to trick him into believing he’d always liked black coffee. He was sure it had something to do with sugar being bad for him or whatever, but he had remembered on the first sip that he hated it. Instead of telling Ford though, he had started serving Ford coffee with increasing amounts of sugar in it. He told him that he remembered one of them liked it sweet, so if it wasn’t him, it must be Ford. The idiot had continued to drink it too, probably feeling guilty about either the mind wipe or the lying. Dipper had put a stop to it in the end, telling them both off like a disappointed parent, and Stan had gotten to go back to drinking his coffee with enough sugar in it to rival Mabeljuice.

He smiled to himself. He wasn’t quite ready to let himself believe that things were going to turn out okay. Up until four summers ago his life had been one long series of bad calls and traumatizing losses. He still wasn’t ready to accept that things were different now. But in the back of his mind, just far back enough that he was able to pretend it wasn’t there, the joy of imagining Dipper and Mabel living with them full time, glimmered.

Ford snapped the laptop shut and the happiness dissipated. Stan knew that to get that future the first thing they had to do was actually find their niblings. From Ford’s annoyed expression Stan assumed that there was still no word from Fiddleford. He glanced at his watch, ignoring the sick feeling as he noticed that the kids time was still stuck on midnight, he said, “Ford, it’s like four am their time. McGucket is probably asleep still.”

Ford sipped at his coffee sullenly. “Soos responded to you when you emailed him.”

“Yeah well, Soos doesn’t have deathbots to distract him in his spare time. Anyway, the kid still has a weird obsession with me. Probably has some sort of alarm hooked up to his computer that tells him when I email him.”

Soos had responded almost immediately to Stan’s email earlier in the night, asking him to pick them up from Portland when their flight got in. They had decided that, since they didn’t know where the kids were, their best bet was to go back to Gravity Falls for the time being and try to figure out next steps from there. Stan had advocated for flying straight to DC and knocking some sense into Mike and Martha, but Ford had talked him out of it, telling him it wouldn’t solve anything for the twins. It probably wouldn’t, but Stan still felt like it would make him feel better. Eh. He still had connections in the American underworld that probably didn’t hate him. Maybe he’d call in an old favor or two once they had the twins safely home.

“Perhaps Fiddleford doesn’t want to help.” Ford groaned. “I mean, I wouldn’t blame him. I did destroy his life, I have no real right to ask anything of him anymore.”

“Ford, stop. You being mean to yourself solves nothing. Also, aside from some of his problems being his own damn fault, he forgave you years ago. The man didn’t kit out our boat in the latest and greatest alien and McGucket labs tech ‘cause he hates ya.”

Ford blinked at him, owlishly. He looked exhausted, his hair stuck up at odd angles, and he had stubble growing in that he hadn’t had time to burn off before they left. His hands were shaking a bit, either out of anxiety or because this wasn’t his first cup of coffee since they had gotten here. Stan suspected it was likely the second option. With the addition of genuine shock on his face he looked a little bit insane.

“I hadn’t considered that.”

“You have,” Stan responded drily, “but you get a lot harder on yourself when you’re tired and have multiple cups of coffee back-to-back.”

Ford winced and set down his coffee guiltily. “I apologize. You’re correct. I know I’m being irrational but truly the coffee was just because I’d prefer not to sleep until we’re safely back in Gravity Falls.”

Stan frowned at him. “Why, Poindexter? Staying awake on a plane where we have no internet or way to contact the kids seems a bit silly.”

Ford fidgeted with his hands, pulling repeatedly at his extra finger, and distinctly not looking at Stan. Almost without meaning to, Stan started cataloging the actions. Learning peoples’ tells had become second nature to him on the road. In some ways it had been even more important in the years he spent running the Mystery Shack. Knowing enough about how people work means knowing exactly which buttons to push to get them to buy overpriced merchandise. Fidgeting meant anxiety, fidgeting with his fingers specifically meant embarrassment, and not looking at Stan could mean a couple things but, in this instance, probably meant whatever was bothering Ford had to do with him.

He sighed. “Spill, Ford. I know you’re anxious about something that has to do with me, but you’re embarrassed to tell me. Probably because you think I’ll tell you you’re bein’ silly or something.”

There was that surprised owl look again. Ford stopped fidgeting with his hands and picked up his coffee instead. “Look Stan, it’s just. You haven’t really been on a plane in years. I’m just worried it might cause memory resurgences, and we aren’t exactly equipped to deal with those in the air.”

“We’ve flown on a plane once today already.”

“It was a tiny plane and a relatively short flight. This flight will be packed and much longer. Also, you’ve been spacey since we got here. That type of derealization tends to occur prior to memory resurgences.”

He took a breath, probably about to continue his anxious ramble, but Stan cut him off. “Look Ford, I’m pretty sure I’ve only been on a plane a couple times in my life and I already remembered the London trip years ago.” Ford opened his mouth again, but Stan continued, talking over him, “More importantly, it doesn’t matter. We have to get on the plane and if I have another memory thingy, we’ll figure it out. Can’t be harder to figure out in the air than it was when we were fighting the Arctic Kraken that one time.”

Ford shuddered at the mention of it. Stan wasn’t too fond of the memory himself; he didn’t like having memory lapses in general, but it’s much worse to suddenly not know who you are or where you are while in the process of being picked up by a very violent squid. He knew he was right though, and after thinking about it for a minute Ford seemed to relax a bit.

“Okay, okay. That’s a fair point. Just let me know if you feel anything coming on, okay? I’m still worried about how out of it you’ve been today.”

The announcement for boarding crackled through the staticky concourse speakers and Stan stood, pulling his backpack on and offering a hand to Ford. “Don’t worry about me, everything’s gonna’ be just fine.”

…

Everything was not fine. Oh, his memory was fine. Absolutely no hiccups there. But Stan had decided he still really didn’t like heights. A ladder was probably fine, hell he’d probably even be fine standing on the water tower too. The first flight had been over water. A dark void that gave no real indication of how high they actually were. He had spent the first flight looking at constellations out the window and pretending they were in a car driving down the highway at night. The thrum of the engines was close enough to tires, and there hadn’t been any turbulence. Now though, they were flying over major cities. Even worse, the sun was starting to rise, making it increasingly clear just how far away from the ground they actually were.

He quickly slid the window shade shut, trying to block out the dizziness that was building in the back of his mind. He closed his eyes and leaned back, trying his best to re-convince himself that this was actually a car. He’d almost managed it too, when Ford suddenly grabbed his arm and hissed “He found them!”

Stan looked over blearily at his brother. Ford had been typing away on their laptop since the plane had reached cruising altitude, but he initially had ignored it. After all it wasn’t like they had an internet connection up here, so whatever Ford was doing was likely not that important. But oddly enough he seemed to have his email open.

“What are you talking about?”

“Fidds got back to us! He found a police report from Page County, Virginia!”

“Ford, there isn’t internet on airplanes.”

Ford waved his hand dismissively. “Things have changed since you were last on a plane, there is internet, you just have to pay for it. It’s a little slow but works well enough.”

Stan shrugged, pulling the laptop towards him, and started to read the email from McGucket, which had a copy of the report attached to it.

At 23:30 last night officers responded to a break-in alarm from the Luray Caverns entry gate. Upon arrival to the parking lot at 23:45 officers spotted two teenagers in a purple Toyota with vanity plate WADDLES. When the suspects saw officers approaching, they left the parking lot quickly and officers pursued to ascertain any potential connection to the break in alarm. The purple Toyota did not pull over or slow down for the pursuing patrol cars and proceeded to speed and drive recklessly, while fleeing the scene. At around 00:00 officers reported seeing a woman in the road, directly in front of the purple Toyota. The Toyota appeared to collide with the woman and then officers lost track of both the vehicle and the pedestrian. No wreckage or remains have been found at this time. Officers are on the lookout for the purple Toyota or any reported sighting of the teenagers or the woman involved in the disappearance.

There was more to the report, something about a picked lock on the entry to the caverns and damage to a national monument. But Stan couldn’t seem to get himself to process the rest of it. The words kept blurring out, and a strange ringing noise was beginning to fill his mind. Officers lost track of both the vehicle and the pedestrian. He shook his head trying to clear it, and tried to push the laptop back to Ford but his hands didn’t seem to be cooperating with him. A woman in the road.

A

Woman

In

The

Road

He felt the laptop fall to the floor, then everything went white.

…

Stan was driving. He wasn’t entirely sure what state he was in currently. He’d started driving in North Carolina but he wouldn’t be surprised if at this point he’d crossed into at least South Carolina if not Georgia. He normally tried to be more mindful of where he was, never wanting to accidentally end up in a place he wasn’t supposed to be, but all he had cared about today was putting as much distance between him and Jimmy as possible.

He absently rubbed at the bruise he could feel forming under his eye. He’d gotten enough of that shit from his father, he didn’t need to put up with from his, well, whatever Jimmy had been, he didn’t need to put up with it from him either. Of course Jimmy had thrown him out when he had said that ‘cause when had standing up for himself ever actually worked out well for Stan Pines. The second he stopped letting himself be everyone’s punching bag or doormat was the same moment when everyone decided they didn’t need him anymore. The worst part was he’d actually thought Jimmy cared, actually thought for a moment there that Jimmy might apologize, might try and make things right. Serves him right for believe people cared about him. That’s what happens when you get attached, he reminded himself angrily, that’s what happens when you pretend to be worth something to people.

The Stanleymobile hit the rumble strip on the roadside and Stan jerked the wheel back center, heart pounding. Fuck, he really needed to stop somewhere. He’d been driving for too long; he was starting to get lost in his head instead of focusing on the road. He knew from experience that meant he was getting dangerously close to falling asleep. He squinted into the dark searching for some sort of exit sign or rest area. All he really needed was a safe place to pull off, it wasn’t like he actually had the money to stay anywhere. His prize money from his most recent boxing match was back in the apartment with Jimmy and he knew he wouldn’t be getting that back.

He rubbed at his eye again. Damn, that bruise really hurt. He hoped Jimmy hadn’t fractured something, that wouldn’t be fun to deal with while it healed.  Suddenly there was a shape in the darkness ahead of him and Stan reflexively slammed on the brakes. The car screeched to a halt just before colliding with a young woman standing by the edge of the road.

She looked like she couldn’t be any older than sixteen or seventeen. Her hair was dark and curly, with a couple of small braids at the front. Even though it was January she was wearing sandals and a short yellow sundress with a denim jacket covered in patches. She didn’t seem to have a bag with her or anything and as she looked up at him she stuck out her thumb like a hitcher and gave him a gap toothed grin that reminded him somewhat painfully of himself at her age.

While most parts of his mind were screaming that it was a trap, the rest of him felt an intense rage that someone had let a child wander around alone on a highway in the middle of the night. He could have killed her if he hadn’t been paying attention, and he damn well wasn’t going to let anyone else do the same. Anyway, he could use the company, it would stop him falling asleep.

He rolled down the window and unlocked the doors, “Where ya headed kid?”

“I’m just trying to get home. Can you help me?” She gave him another nervous smile and the part of Stan that was longing to ask, “What’s in it for me?” softened.

“Of course, kid. Hop in.” He cleared empty chip bags and cigarette cartons off the seat and surreptitiously shoved a half empty handle of vodka under his jacket in the back.

They started driving again and he glanced over at her, in the weak light from the occasional streetlamp she looked almost transparent at times, and she seemed to be shivering a bit despite her jacket. He fished around in the back seat for his red hoodie and handed it to her, hoping she wouldn’t mind the holes in it which he hadn’t had time to patch up yet. She shrugged it on happily and he was pleased to see that her shivering stopped fairly quickly. “What’s your name?” He asked quietly.

“Daisy. Daisy McAll.”

Stan paused for a moment rifling through his various aliases but something in her face stopped him and he sighed. “I’m Stanley Pines, it’s nice to meet ya. If you don’t mind my asking, what’s a kid like you doing all alone out here at night? It’s dangerous for you to be walking on the side of a highway in the dark, I almost hit you.”

She shrugged, “I know, but you didn’t, so it’s okay. I was at a party with some friends, and they were driving me back home, but they’d had a bit too much to drink.”

Stan nodded knowingly. “So, you told them you’d rather walk? Smart kid.”

She smiled a little sadly. “Yeah, something like that.”

They drove in silence for the next twenty minutes or so before she directed him down a series of small backroads near the town of Woodcliff Georgia. Stan knew something was wrong the moment they reached the house. There was a for sale sign in the front yard that was rusted and bent, and several windows in the old house were boarded up. Weeds choked the driveway and the yard was overgrown save for a spot under the large willow tree near the house which seemed to have a gravestone of some sort next to it and a bouquet of flowers on it, although they seemed old and dry.

“Are you sure this is the right house kiddo? It doesn’t seem like anyone has lived here in a while.”

Daisy stared at the house with an expression of such intense sadness and longing that Stan wanted to reach out and give her a hug. He didn’t because he didn’t want to invite a second punch to the face today, so instead he settled for gently patting her hand where it rested on the center console. It was freezing cold despite the fact that she was no longer shivering, but Stan didn’t pull his hand back.

“Is there somewhere else I can take you? You don’t have to tell me what’s really going on but I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone.”

She turned and smiled at him sadly. “Thank you, I know it doesn’t make much sense, but it helps to come here every so often.” She pulled her hand out of his and ran it through her hair, giving a tired little laugh. “What do you say I get you a meal? I know a great diner close to here.”

Hoping it wouldn’t be an abandoned diner, Stan followed her directions back out of the neighborhood to the highway. At some point there was a weird flash, almost like a car behind him had flashed its brights in his rearview mirror, but there was no car there. The diner appeared around the next turn and he pulled into the lot.

He and Daisy each got a burger, and she ordered him a chocolate milkshake as well. He hadn’t had chocolate in a long time, and it made him think of days spent on the boardwalk with Ford growing up. The memory hurt. He didn’t finish the milkshake.

He must have fallen asleep at the booth, dozing off in the warmth and low murmurs of conversation from around them. When he woke up, it was morning, and he was asleep in the front seat of the Stanleymobile. For a moment he thought he had dreamed it all, until he looked to his right and saw his hoodie folded neatly on the seat next to him. Sitting on top of it was a to-go box of fries and a single yellow daisy.

Later that day he drove back to the house Daisy had directed him to last night. In the light of day the gravestone was easily visible and, after spending a while in his car, waiting to make absolutely sure no one was currently living in the house, he walked up to the grave. It read:

 Daisy McAll 1955-1972  Loved By All, Gone Too Soon.

Something tightened in his chest as he did the math. She’d only been seventeen, and she’d already been dead for three years. He placed the bouquet of daisies he’d purchased in town on the grave stone, clearing off the old one. The florist had laughed when he had asked about it, telling him every few months or so someone would come in asking for one and he had no idea what made them so popular. That had made Stan smile a bit, good for her, hustling people for flowers. She deserved it.

He stood there for a while, in silence. Then he turned and walked back to his car. He didn’t believe in God, hadn’t in a long time, but as he sat in the car before pulling away, he found himself giving a small prayer up to the universe that wherever she was, Daisy could eventually find peace. No one deserved to wander the roads for their entire life – or afterlife as it may be. He headed back out for the highway, and then his vision dissolved into darkness and lots of overlapping voices.

…

Stan was back on the plane again, with an absolutely splitting headache. It was most certainly not being helped by Ford and what he assumed was a stewardess and several passengers having a loud argument next to him. He groaned and slowly uncurled himself from the position he had collapsed into, half on the floor and half in his seat. His bones really weren’t made for airplanes, he decided.

“Can everyone please stop yellin’?”

He hated how fast a hush fell around them. He wanted nothing more than to go lie down for a while and process this information, preferably alone in the dark on a bed. But given that that was impossible, at the very least he wanted to not be made a public spectacle.

Ford gently placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing small circles into the portal scar with his thumb. “Are you okay, Stan?”

A slightly hysterical passenger standing in the aisle gasped out, “Of course he’s not okay, he just had a seizure!”

Stan cast a glance over at Ford who gave a shrug, he was letting Stan take the lead on this one apparently.

“‘M fine.” He cleared his throat and sat up straight. “I’m fine,” he said again, turning on the Mr. Mystery charm and rifling through his head for a suitable story. “I haven’t had a seizure in a while, so it was just unexpected is all. Normally I have a service dog with me, but due to a family emergency we had to fly out on short notice and weren’t able to bring him with us.” He glanced around at the pitying worried faces, and brightened the confident smile on his face, time to reel ‘em in. “I appreciate your concern, but I truly am fine now. My brother has plenty of experience with my condition and it's extremely unlikely I'll have any other issues on the flight.”

Nodding to themselves most of the passengers dispersed. Ford pulled the flight attendant back to ask for water and some aspirin, promising to call her right away if anything else occurred, then turned back to Stan.

“Shows over.” Stan grumbled, massaging his temples with his hands. “Fuck, that hasn’t happened in a while.”

“I told you I was worried about this, Stanley.”

Stan stiffened for a moment, but Ford didn’t sound annoyed or upset with him, and his hand stayed reassuringly warm on Stan’s shoulder. He just sounded worried.

“Well.” Stan looked over at him with a half-smile, “It had nothin’ to do with the plane, so you were at least half wrong. Anyway, it wasn’t a bad memory exactly. More just kind of sad. You’ll probably find it fascinating though.”

“Stan!” Ford sounded reproachful. “I don’t think your sad memories are fascinating! Just because I write them down—”

“Didn’t say you did, Sixer. Now be quiet until the aspirin kicks in. I promise I’ll explain everything once this damn headache goes away a bit.”

He leaned back in his seat and shut his eyes, determined not to look at Ford. It hadn’t been a bad memory. In fact he was pretty sure he’d forgotten that memory long before he’d, well, lost them. That was another part of his memory loss he hated. Some things he’d lost on purpose, long before the memory gun, and at least most of his other bad memories were dulled by distance and time. But regaining them was like living them over again. It felt real in every possible way. Sometimes it was very difficult for him to actually remember that they were just memories, that the here and now wasn’t just a dream he’d cooked up for himself on the run, or in prison. In the end Ford or the kids always pulled him back out of his head and set him right again, but sometimes the lingering wrongness of it all could last for days. After all, this had been his dream for so many years that he’d given up on it ever being a possibility. He couldn’t be blamed for having trouble believing it was actually real.

He was a little surprised he’d forgotten that particular memory though. He’d forgotten a lot of stuff to do with Jimmy on purpose, and the weeks he’d spent on the road after leaving for the final time were still lost to the memory gun. He could feel the holes in the story, burned like long scars into the timeline he had been piecing back together for almost four years now. He truthfully would be happy for them to stay lost, but he could feel them drifting around just out of reach, brought back to the surface by the memory of Daisy McAll. They’d probably start trickling back in bits and pieces over the next week if previous experience was anything to go by. No, he wasn’t surprised he hadn’t remembered leaving Jimmy’s place, what shocked him was forgetting the first truly weird encounter he’d had on the road.

He knew there had been others after that, he remembered not being surprised the first time he chased a gnome out of Ford’s trash cans a few days after the portal incident. So, he knew that he’d brushed up against weirdness enough times to know there was more out there than the occasional ghost and the Jersey Devil. He just couldn’t seem to find any of the memories at the moment, and without anything more to go on than a gut feeling of weirdness, he knew he was unlikely to get them back anytime soon.

The headache faded as they began their descent into Portland. Stan kept his eyes resolutely shut however, until they finally touched down on the tarmac and rolled to a stop at the gate. The headache may have faded but the nausea at the idea of falling out of the sky certainly hadn’t, so he didn’t actually begin to explain things to Ford until they reached a small café near the baggage claim.

Soos had texted letting them know he was around a half hour away due to traffic and the plane landing a bit earlier than expected. Ford had collected their suitcases from the baggage claim, and there was a steaming mug of hot chocolate sat in front of both of them. He supposed he couldn’t really put it off any longer.

He retold the story as accurately as he could. He left out the parts about Jimmy, not that he really thought Ford would care, but he didn’t want to give Ford something else to try and blame himself for today. As if Stan’s poor taste in men or women had ever been anything but his own fault. Everything else he was honest about though, including leaving the daisies on the grave, which made Ford smile at him and mutter something that sounded suspiciously like “softie” into his hot chocolate.

When he finished Ford didn’t say anything but pulled out their laptop and typed away for a moment before turning the screen towards Stan. It was a photocopy of a newspaper clipping on some archive website. The photocopy was grainy, but the headline was still readable. Drunk Teenage Driver Collides With Guardrail, Killing Himself and All Four Passengers. The date on the clipping read April 1972, and the photos of the five victims were printed below the story. Most of them were too blurry to make out much detail, but the final one felt familiar to him, he didn’t have to read the name printed beneath it to know it said Daisy McAll.

Something in his chest that he hadn’t realized was tight, released. He had known this was real, after everything in Gravity Falls, hell, after everything he and Ford had encountered in the last few years, it had to be real. But some tiny part of him had wondered back then if he was going crazy. The loneliness, the years of travel and running away, every time he’d seen something like this, he’d felt just a tiny bit closer to losing himself.

He smiled and passed the laptop back to Ford. “That’s her.” Ford took the laptop then reached down for something in his bag before hesitating. Stan could see the gears spinning in his brother’s head. He knew Ford wanted to write all this down more than anything, but he also knew that there was a ritual to how they did this; Ford may not like the ritual very much but he followed it anyway. The ritual had been established early on, when it became clear the memory recovery was going to be a process and not a quick fix. First, he explains the memory when he’s ready, Ford listens and does not interrupt. When he is finished talking, Ford can ask questions and, if he wants to, Stan can answer. Then, when Stan leaves the room Ford can write everything down, but he has to wait until then. Stan understands the value of recordkeeping, especially when the stability of his memories is still less than solid, but he doesn’t like sitting there and being Ford’s specimen.

Ford sat back up and drums his fingers on the table. “Okay, what exactly sparked this memory, Stan? You’re correct that it doesn’t have anything to do with planes, but I’m not entirely sure what on earth caused it.”

Stan frowned at him, “Isn’t it obvious, Poindexter?”

Ford looked even more confused. “No? I don’t think so anyway, we were just talking on the plane, and you were reading the email from Fiddleford—”

“Correct.”

“Stan, Fidd’s email didn’t say anything about ghosts.”

“Not directly, no.” Stan gazed at Ford for another moment before sighing and tugging the laptop back out of his brother’s hands, pulling up the police report. He handed it back to Ford saying, “Read it again.”

He saw the moment the lightbulb went off. Ford’s eyes widened and he lurched for his backpack, pulling out his journal and flipping through the pages frantically. “You think the kids—you think they picked up a hitcher?”

“Well, not exactly? I don’t really know how these things work but I’m pretty sure that diner I told you about wasn’t exactly a real place so to speak? Like maybe it was a ghost diner? I know that sounds stupid but—”

“That’s not stupid Stanley, that’s brilliant!”

“It is?”

“Yes! The ghost roads are a huge part of American folklore, but I’ve never paid very close attention to them because it always felt too vague to be real. Similar to the myth of the American cross-roads devils, no clear reason they come, no clear way to get to them, just anecdotes passed down through oral history. But with what you’ve just described to me Stan, and the way that the police report describes them just vanishing, I think it's entirely plausible that they managed to use a ghost to pass into the ghost roads to escape the police!”

“Do ghosts make your phones stop working?”

“It’s possible! There hasn’t been a lot of research on it but it's likely that the general aura of weirdness that surrounds things like that would have a strong adverse reaction to more modern technology.”

“Gravity Falls never seemed to have much of a problem with it.”

“Eh” Ford shrugged, “Gravity Falls has been steeped in weirdness since its very inception, I wouldn’t be surprised if the technology just adapts to the weirdness there over time. You said when you woke up you were back on the road right, and it was the next morning?”

Startled by the sudden conversation change Stan paused, sorting through the memory again before answering. “Yes, I think so. Maybe when the sun rises, or when enough time passes the living are forced back into the real world?” He trailed off and stared at Ford for a second, then they both simultaneously checked their watches. Sure enough, their time read 8:30am and the kids time slot read 11:30am. Wherever they were, time was moving correctly again.

Stan and Ford pulled their phones out in sync but Stan got there first, dialing Mabel's number while Ford froze, staring at his phone screen. Stan ignored him, heart pounding as he waited. The phone rang and rang before eventually cutting to voicemail. Stan almost hung up, but something stopped him so instead, he waited through the cheery voice of his niece until the beep. “Hey sweetie, call us back, okay? We love you both and just want to get you home.”

He hung up and glanced at Ford who was still staring at his phone in silence. “You gonna call Dipper or what?”

Ford shook his head then slid the phone across the table. On it was a single notification, unread message from Mabel Pines. It was dated from yesterday afternoon. Ford pressed play:

“Hey Grunkle Ford. It’s Mabel. Dipper is also here but he’s driving right now. We tried to call Grunkle Stan too, but his mailbox was full. We should have called you both earlier, like a lot earlier, and I know you’re probably really mad at me for just leaving and not calling you. We’re really sorry about that, it’s mostly my fault anyway, I was just worried that—Well, nevermind, not important right now.” She took a deep breath before continuing. 

“What is important is we’re on our way to Gravity Falls! Sort of. We’re in West Virginia right now anyway. I’m calling now because we need help. And to be honest I don’t know if it’s something you guys can help us with but, something is wrong with time? Because everything says it's New Year’s Eve, 2015. And it shouldn’t be!!” She was speaking faster now, voice blurring with panic and a slight hysteria that set Stan’s teeth on edge.

“It really shouldn’t be, because yesterday was New Years Eve, and we found a Hide-Behind and a Grimadillo and got chased by the cops and I—I called you! We called you at midnight and then. And then everything went wrong. We don’t know what to do, and our clock is broken as well. And I don’t know that it's relevant, but Dipper said it might be ‘cause he knows you guys put alien tech stuff in it to link to your watches. But it broke last night when we ended up in the ghost world, all the hands stopped where they were at midnight our time.”

There was a long silence and for a moment Stan thought the message was over. Then there was a long sigh and a sniff before she kept talking, it was clear that she was crying.

“We don’t know what to do. We’re going to keep going to Gravity Falls and just sort of hope that we figure it out. I don’t even know if this message will get through but, we love you guys and we’re so sorry for everything.”

There was a click, and the message ended.

[madamlaydebug]

SOUL AGREEMENT

They say that before birth, when each Being decided to come to Earth to live the 3D experience, there was an agreement of SOULS.

First, each soul meticulously selected with their teachers of Light, all the experiences they wanted to live in this incarnation.

Some chose to learn through DETACHMENT, others through LONELINESS, others through ILLNESS, others through LOSSES. The most decided to learn from the COUPLE relationship. Some dared to experience material WEALTH... and so on, as if they chose the subjects to enroll in the University, all decided their missions. And there was a great meeting between them to agree on how their souls would interrelate... As when the roles are distributed in a play, each one received their role in the work of their lives... and they were born...

Some of these souls met from birth and are brothers.

Others had to be schoolmates, to become friends in adulthood...

Others did not meet until when they were older, they agreed to meet at a party and fall in love...

And there were those who would have minimal roles in each other's lives:

They would be the doctor who checked him when he was hospitalized for appendicitis...

Another would be the one who would break his nose at the disco because he would steal his girlfriend...

Another would be the one who would offer him the opportunity to earn easy money...

Another was the taxi driver who would take him to the airport that day when he was told that his mother was dying...etc.

Nothing, absolutely nothing is accidental in anyone's life. There is FREE WILL. We have distributed the roles, but there is no script. Each one creates their own dialogues and their actions... and they also need to take responsibility for the consequences.

So get to thinking:

Why do you have such a demanding and perfectionist boss? Could it be that they agreed that he would bring out the best in you and polish you like a diamond?

Or is it that you have to learn tolerance?

What if what you should do is give up?

Difficult to know what you came to experience with each person... but the soul knows it... and the soul only knows how to communicate messages to us through what we call INTUITION.

Do you understand now that that person who is there like a Jiminy Cricket is because perhaps you asked him to, you begged him to be the voice of your conscience and you yourself begged him:

It doesn't matter that I hate you, but don't let me perform some actions that will leave me stuck in this incarnation...

And you understand why it was enough for you to see that person for you to feel cramps in your belly... your soul was warning you of all the pain it would cause you... Do you listen?

We don't remember. We don't know what unites the entire cast that helps us represent the work of our lives, but there is a tacit agreement between all of us to stay together to help each other grow, to evolve...

Together we form a true healing team because we take care of both our own development and that of others. But we can also abruptly close the relationship with some people due to merely earthly problems. I already told you: We have free will.

All this path started in our first incarnation millions of centuries ago is aimed at enlightenment...

Each incarnation we add drops of light to our CONSCIOUSNESS and thus we evolve. Sometimes, someone comes into our life who teaches us something and who at the same time receives our teaching and then leaves, disappears from our life, because the deal agreed in the so-called Sublime Plan or Heaven has already been fulfilled.

Then, we move slowly in earthly or mundane terms, but we go at the speed of light in stellar or cosmic terms..

So we cannot look at any relationship and judge it as a success or failure... We are learning, and the mere fact of being able to interact with others, of getting to know them, discovering their differences... getting to the depths of their soul makes any relationship a success...

So don't get stuck with that abusive boss, with that unfaithful partner, with that envious person, with the disloyal relative, with the gossipy neighbor, with that abusive teacher, the grumpy storekeeper, that sweet suitor, that rebellious daughter...

Just look directly into their soul and tell them

Thank you💕✨️

Author : Unknown

[dearweirdme]

I feel sad for Tae, this is obviously a stunt and I doubt he agreed to do it for clout and exposure, he didn't seem happy to do it and he is not feeding it in any way so that leave of some other options, I think it was more about providing a cover for tk, I don't think it's a coincidence that it happened just before both of their solo debut, jk's being international makes things more high scale too, so jk is also benefiting from this without dealing personally with the hard stuff, I won't argue that this has made tae even more popular but he's being attacked constantly, people making everything about him about this woman and prepared to make his hard work about her too, calling him a coward and making fun of him with 5k likes, always being on the news bc of "dating" it's also not necessarily a good thing, your fans calling you a liar and thinking that you are ball less when you are one of the bravest ppl out there mustn't be nice, ppl insulting even his family and this situation created a bunch of ppl obsessed with his privacy and personal life, like some army won't admit it on public but they have whole gcs for gossipping and he is the focus, and all bc yg and hybe are using him for this media circus, and this all before caring about his artistry and considering how Tae has been acting like him posting that wake up song tht has a clear message just after the Bruno Mars concerts when all the social media rockus was about tn, him coming out of the airport and doing a live immediately to show us that he is alone....yeah I doubt this doesn't bother him at least a bit, he is someone with a lot of integrity, what I'm saying is that it pains me to see the situation and it started to annoy me to see everyone benefit from it, jennie and YG, jennie is being victimized big time in twitter and every critisism done to her about stuff like her actions and lack of effort in concerts it's pin down to ppl 'jealousy' of her dating Tae, no critisism is valid now even the ones coming from her own fans and ppl are super defensive of her, even more than before, and jk too....this lifted some of the gay rumors just in time for his international debut ( I don't think this is coincidental) and I know this bc when Jennie dropped those pics so many comments from different accounts not even armys or shippers were ppl cheering bc 'tk is so not real' and ppl thinking in what should be just a typical gay kpop ship first thing everytime those rumors break tells me that deep down a lot of ppl thought or feared that there was some truth in tk and are relieved and happy that it's being 'debunked', I guess this is part the goal, a bit of protection for the both of them but yeah I don't like it that's Tae just dealing with all the bad stuff and jk only getting the benefits, at least that's how it looks bc obviously we don't how he feels emotionally but facts are facts and the one dealing with the worst of all is taehyung, lots of new ot6 accounts, ppl didn't leave jk bc of this rumor as much as tae, ppl aren't calling him liar and a pussy in mass scale, he doesn't have to see his face on the news bc of dating rumors, he is seeing it bc of the success of his music that hybe pushed ( which I think it's really deserved bc he has worked hard his whole life) but things don't look fair to me in regards of Tae,how fitting it was Tae saying that he would take the responsibility sometimes I wonder if that's the dynamic of their relationship.

Hi anon!

Yeah, this is the worst part of being in showbizz really. I agree that Tae probably isn’t unaffected by this, though I hope he has maintained a bit of distance from social media. The way it looks now, I think he agreed because it’s a fairly short stunt (only one walk for him, and the rest is mostly done by fandom) and it probably allows him more freedom in the long run. I feel his post with the Disney hoody is rather pointed. Reclaiming his true self a bit. I don’t think it’s been mainly to hide Taekook, but rather to make it seem that he (also) dates women. I’m quite curious to see how the launch of his album will go (in general, but also regarding this).

I don’t agree that Jk benefits from this without doing anything himself. Jk has been deemed ‘straight’ the last couple of weeks because of Seven. He didn’t need Tae to do Taennie, since to most of fandom and the general public Tae and him are just friends. They’ve successfully hidden that way for years now, and only now something like this is happening. I really suspect it’s because of Tae’s album, and because he wants to be able to be more himself in general. People are sadly enough more inclined to accept/ignore a hint of queerness when a man very publicly dates a woman. We’ll see soon I suppose, since his album is probably going to be released soon.

I think Tae and Jk are very connected. Jk’s tears when Tae’s grandmother died tells me that he is not immune to Tae’s hurt at all. I therefore think that Jk will also have hurt because of this Taennie thing. If not for himself it will have been for Tae. There’s no benefit in standing by while your partner is rumored/shipped with someone else. That hurts! Jk is also a very feeling, emotional person.. it took him quite some days to come on live again after the Paris stuff. You don’t come this far in a relationship (that is already complicated) by letting one person carry the brunt of it.

[funtimelolmix]

The backstory a Veldigun OC of mine :]

[ ] kept on getting punched in the face while living on the streets, this certainly wasn't life at its peak for him. He'd used to be so popular back in school when everybody was dumb and unaware, he'd scam the ever living shit out of them until he was sure all of their money were in his pockets as they were still begging for more items made by him which were obviously scams. He was swimming in money, almost literally, when one unfortunate day came for him;

He was roaming the streets of El Salvador during an early morning, a bit too early though since it was still dark enough for criminals to come out and grab him off the streets and nobody would notice, but he didn't care. He'd just been walking home from winning the lottery, now his entire life savings of scamming people adding up to a whole million dollars. He was a millionaire, nothing mattered anymore, he would go eat at expensive restaurants, move to the USA, and play frickin golf, tennis, or whatever rich people do. Or at least that's what he thought he'd do. But that's not what fate had planned for him, as he was about to have a completely new life in

Five...

Four...

Three...

Two...

One...

And then the robber came.

So there he was, on the streets, sitting down outside of some random building. He'd lost his house when he couldn't pay rent anymore, he'd been miserable ever since the robbery happened! Getting a job was just impossible, since he's never learned responsibility, and he'd been too busy working on his scams to ever get anywhere in school. If only a miracle happened.

And surprisingly, it did. While he was searching a trashcan for food, his good 'ol friend Lawrence found him and let him stay in his apartment.

He and Lawrence had a history together; it was back in his glory days, aka grade school. Lawrence was in two grades above him, and he'd loved having someone around to help him, so they always split the money. Lawrence knew exactly who was rich and dumb enough to target.

And now he wanted to bring the magic of scamming back, so he asked Lawrence if he also felt the same as back in the days. And Lawrence was all in.

Lawrence recommended to him that he should get a fake new name first, because, no offense, his current name "[ ]" won't get him anywhere in a scamming career this advanced if he'd want to make it, so being "hip" and "cool," he chose his new name:

Morbius. Named after the fucking dead meme of a movie. At first, Lawrence chuckled at Morbius' new name, so he just called him "Morb," for short.

So now, having two deadnames, Morbius/Morb decided to buy a new outfit to go with his new identity, and by "buying," he meant "stealing."

Obviously he couldn't go selling products with the dirty clothes he had on, plus, stealing was easy for him because sometimes back in his glory days, he'd make people buy stuff back from him. Although the person he'd be stealing his new suit from was someone he didn't personally know, but he remembered their face very well.

The person was walking with a suitcase to the airport, unaware she was being followed by Morbius, as he was getting what he called "revenge" for the years he spent alone and afraid in the city. Morb was able to get a glimpse at a name on the person's suitcase: "Riley Blanco." (I know, shitty made-up name) The name of the person who changed his life forever by stealing all his money that one night.

Getting that suit wasn't east, but he got out alive in the end, and it only costed him getting choked almost to the point of passing out, and a large scar spreading from one of his ears to the other, damaging his eyes but not poking them out.

Riley swore this revenge as he ran away from her, clutching the green suit while trying his best not to let the blood on his face fall onto his brand new suit.

So, he arrived back at Lawrence's apartment and showed him his new suit. They both agreed it would fit Morb perfectly and had a great time that night drinking and talking about all the times they've ever scammed someone. Although, that night, them being humans would be a distant memory.

Morbius and Lawrence might've not been humans anymore, but Morb wouldn't let that stop him from becoming rich. While Lawrence was questioning how the fuck Veldiguns got into his house, Morb took advantage of his new form and came up with the idea to just threaten people into buying his fake products instead of going through all the effort of the entire scamming process. The only problem was however, that he already consumed the fake TV that he had made, giving him a plug tail that he noticed soon after he ate it. He only noticed the TV head when Lawrence pointed it out.

Some hours later, they both agreed on taking advantage of what they had become and headed right to the doors. While looking for some random things to sell, Morb and Lawrence split up and agreed to meet up again behind a casino.

Too many hours had passed, and Morbius had found absolutely nothing. He was about to just give up and tell Lawrence the bad news, when right there he spotted something: The Milkwalker, from the myth well known in the parts of El Salvador that Morb grew up in, but originated in a small town in Brazil.

Morbius ran away from the furious milk carton, clutching its bloody nose in his palm. He ran and ran until he finally reached the back of the casino and, to his surprise, saw Riley and Lawrence battling it out; Deltarune style. (/hj) Both Morb and eLawrence tell Riley to lay off, but she won't budge. When she told Morb that she'd get her revenge, she meant it. The battle ended only when Morbius offered her the nose, that's when Riley took her leave and left with the valuable nose. (And then she proceeded to sell it to some other random person that definitely isn't important to the story in the slightest)

Now, with no nose at his disposal anymore, Morbius just sat down next to the trash bin next to him and hid his TV face in his arms and just. Sat there. Lawrence assured him that they would steal more valuable stuff the next day, so they walked back to Lawrence’s apartment with empty pockets.

While Lawrence was sleeping, Morb was having trouble resting. Each time he’d almost fallen asleep during the night, a figure would appear in his dream and force him back awake. The figure appeared as long as lanky, its kneecaps completely twisting into absurd shapes that Morbius didn’t understand. Its smile just didn’t work properly into correct anatomy, looking more like an actual alien’s smile than anything else. Its fingers were too split, as if they were forks sticked onto the body of the beast. Speaking of its body, (if you could even call it that,) it wasn’t a body at all, but a milk carton. This was the creature that was keeping Morb awake, as it felt like it was right next to him, just staring into his soul. Again, Morbius tried falling asleep, but then he heard a crack.

The entire wall fell apart, scattering pieces sprawled out across the floor! And the cause of all this? The milk carton. The exact one from the Brazilian legend, from his dream, was standing right in his presence, even waking Lawrence up.

That’s when the milk creature reached out towards Morb, and…

.

[llamamonger]

dreams

I’ve been in limbo this whole year with my dear friend, trying to rebuild trust in them & figure out how our friendship should go. It’s all been very avoidant-attachment-coded on their side, hot & cold. I’ve had to have more hard talks, at one point making the argument that they shouldn’t be friends with me if I’m a source of stress & that I’m not needed anymore & not even capable of being the same person I once was. I’ve been on some rough meds to treat my chronic pain (didn’t work, caused exponentially more suffering), and processing the continued abandonment by two of my closest friends (my dear friend & their now-sister-in-law) made things so much harder—it broke me. I’d been there for my friend for everything, even the things I didn’t agree with totally, and even though they knew I was struggling, it’s like they didn’t even care. They got emotional telling me that they do want to be friends because when they picture their future, I’m there, and they hate the idea of me not being there. But that’s as much as I’ve ever got from them—what “there” even means to them, I don’t know, because they sure seemed ok leaving me out of their life so much. I’d essentially given up on things this week, as I’d been slowly trying to kill off all the hopeful parts of me that were just making it so hard to heal (from the meds, from everything).

But for the first time in over a month, my friend asked to hang out with me this week. I told them I’d love that. I considered being measured in my response, but even without hope, I have to be honest. The next day they told me they had a dream that we were hanging out, but I decided I wanted to drive to the airport, hopped a plane, and flew away, and they were like “well I guess we’re done hanging out for today…” We both found it hilarious, but I’ve always wondered whether my friend’s dreams betray something about their deeper feelings for me. They dream about me far more than I do about them (maybe I process it all consciously and don’t need to), and in the dreams they tell me about, at least, we’re a team. I’m always helping them do something—once I was flying a helicopter to help them rescue their spouse. They had a dream like this after the dream of me leaving the hang out. I don’t know what I’m not told about, and I’ve wondered whether I’m in bad dreams, too, and if that contributes to their pulling away at times. I wondered whether the dream about my leaving the hang out represented some anxiety they’re feeling over me. I wonder what always being “there” for them in the dreams means to them—if there’s a deep connection they feel that they’re afraid of. Folks say avoidant attachers are afraid of vulnerability & closeness because once it gets real, it comes with loss. I wish my friend would just be honest with themselves about how they feel. I’ve done everything I can, even at the expense of my emotional safety, to show them I’d be there for them as long as they want me there. That doesn’t work if they push me away. And dreams alone can’t make up for it.

[x-mencomics]

The Uncanny X-Men #188 - Legacy of the Lost

Dallas, Texas

Outside Forge's building the "Shadowbeings" (as Storm calls them) are fighting the X-Men and Forge. Forge runs back inside to find Naze for help. But Naze is up in the penthouse of the building, summoning help from "the Great One." There's some interesting looking fire-like symbols on the floor all around Naze, and the Great One appears. Bad thing is, it seems... evil. It takes over Naze's body!

At the Dallas Airport, Amanda Sefton waits in a grounded plane, stranded due to a wild snowstorm (yes, there's a snowstorm in Dallas and you can read more about THAT over in Thor #349). Nightcrawler teleports onto the plane, grabs Amanda, then teleports into the Blackbird, which is flying above the airport. Amanda asks what's going on and Nightcrawler says they need the expertise of a witch, which Amanda is. They hurry back to the X-Men that have been captured by the Shadowbeings. Amanda uses her powers to hit the Shadowbeings and they partially disperse, releasing Rogue, Colossus, and Storm. Colossus tries to help Rogue up, but she transforms into a Dire Wraith! The Wraith tries to stab Colossus with it's weird barbed tongue. But then -

Illyana appears!

The Professor has sent Illyana to help the X-Men. She's floating in mid-air and wielding a sword, the Soulsword. She jumps to the ground and starts slicing up all the Shadowbeings. While Illyana deals with the Shadowbeings, Amanda tries to seal the entrance that the Shadowbeings entered from. Unfortunately, that doesn't work. Amanda says that another force is countering her powers. Storm suspects that another Wraith must be in the building, and she has Nightcrawler teleport her and Forge to the roof. Sure enough, there's another Wraith there, and Forge shoots and kills it. Nightcrawler teleports them back downstairs. Everything is calm again.

Amanda heals Rogue with her magic. Illyana explains that the Professor sent her and that she has become a powerful sorceress thanks to her time with Belasco. (For that WILD story, check out issue #160). Forge find Naze unconscious. Storm tells Forge that she and the X-Men are leaving and that he shouldn't follow her, and that they will meet again...

Bermuda Triangle

Lee Forrester spots a man in the water off the side of her ship. She jumps in to rescue the man, and pulls him on board. It's... MAGNETO!

Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters

The X-Men have returned home, and Nightcrawler calls for a special meeting of the team. Storm says she won't attend because she no longer has her powers, but Nightcrawler asks her to please attend anyway, and she does. In the meeting, Nightcrawler is VERY upset. He's yelling about how he doesn't think the Professor's dream of mutants and humans co-existing will ever work out. He says humans will never accept them. He says the Fantastic Four or the Avengers should handle keeping the world safe because they are accepted by humans. Storm and Banshee have lost their powers, Thunderbird and Jean were killed. And for what? Nightcrawler asks what the point of the X-Men even is.

Suddenly Rachel, who was listening to the meeting outside the room, bursts in, and she's furious that Nightcrawler would say that Jean, her mother, is dead. She hits Nightcrawler with a psi-bolt, and the Professor attempts to calm her down. Rachel says she's heard her mother's voice and that Jean must be alive. Rachel finally calms down, but she has overheard this entire conversation and she tells the team that they can't give up on Xavier's dream. In her timeline, mutants have almost all been slaughtered by humans, so they must continue to work to prevent that from happening. Storm says that with great power comes great responsibility. Nightcrawler agrees. He will continue to work towards Xavier's dream. The X-Men have a big group hug.

Epilogue

A man named Jaime Rodriguez is working for a fishing company. A crate of fish gets dropped and Jaime starts to pick them all up. One fish has a strange golden necklace inside of it. Jaime picks up the necklace and it speaks to him!

"Hearken, O man. I am power. Don me--- Obey me--- and the world is yours!"

[beardedmrbean]

Ilta-Sanomat has more news from ongoing discussions about Finland's 2025 state budget. Some adjustments are necessary, according to the Finance Ministry, with the state needing to save billions of euros more than previously planned.

The government parties are mostly agreed on that. But the devil is in the details.

IS says that a week from now negotiations will begin in earnest, but that their sources believe the savings will have to be found among the "upper middle class".

Up to now, most cuts have fallen on benefits for younger and lower-income groups, such as the unemployed. There may not be much more to cut at this point among those groups.

Deductions currently utilised by many better-off taxpayers might be on the chopping block, including the deduction for household expenses. That can be used to reduce tax bills if you have work done around the home.

It has previously been reported that VAT is likely to increase as well, as a one percentage point increase would raise 615 million euros and fill a big chunk of the budget shortfall.

There is also a continuing debate over cuts to pensions. The Finns Party would be willing to make cuts in pension spending, but the National Coalition Party is opposed.

Flying Tappara

Iltalehti asks Tampere hockey club Tappara why they are planning to fly a 295km trip to Kuopio this weekend as they head into the Liiga playoff semifinals.

A win there would put them 3-0 up in the series, with four wins needed to secure progress to the final.

The club says it is chartering a plane at a cost of around 80,000 euros in order to maximise recovery time for the players.

IL wonders if that might conflict with the club's environmental programme, but the team's CEO says that recovery time for the players between crucial playoff games is more important, and that they would not fly these distances during the regular season.

Oulu team Kärpät also flew direct to their away games in Mikkeli, in the opposite south-eastern corner of the country, in the previous round. That's a distance of 445km, making a very long drive for any hockey team travelling after a game finishes late.

In the semi-finals Kärpät will fly again to Lahti, arriving via the Helsinki-Vantaa airport.

They do normally travel by bus to Kuopio, Vaasa and Jyväskylä, the closest Liiga locations to Oulu. But longer trips are made by train or plane.

Kärpät do, however, try to offset the emissions by buying credits linked to carbon sinks in Finnish commercial forests.

Mister Teksti TV

Helsingin Sanomat carries a report on an Yle colleague, Matti Rämö, who is single-handedly responsible for keeping Yle's teletext service "Teksti-TV" running.

In a piece headlined "Mister Teksti-TV" HS outlines the continued popularity of the service, which draws around 1.2 million users a week, and an average of 780,000 every day.

Commercial broadcasters MTV and Nelonen have recently announced plans to close down their teletext services.

That's not exceptional worldwide: the United Kingdom, which was the first to introduce the technology, now has no functional teletext operations.

HS reports that makes Rämö sad, as he's a strong believer in the social usefulness of text-based news served through a television screen.

At 62 he is nearing retirement, and more time cycling and watching SSC Napoli (although HS does not mention either hobby).

Rämö remains confident that Teksti-TV will continue under someone else's stewardship — "it's not rocket science", he says, "but you have to deal with a lot of rubbish".

You can read Yle's English pages on Teksti-TV at page 190.

[shahronak47]

Say no to "YES" Rentals

We had recently been to New Zealand and the trip was awesome. Unfortunately, our trip ended on a bitter note. Self drive is the easiest way to explore New Zealand, I believe. We had rented our vehicle from Yes Rentals, Queenstown branch. They gave us Toyota Aqua Hybrid which had almost completed 80k kms but still was well maintained.

We stayed in Christchurch for 3 days and on one of the day while I was taking reverse in the parking, the car got slightly hit on the back. Since I was in the parking area I was slow and thankfully it did not damage a lot. I had completely forgotten about it until the last day when I came back to Yes rentals to return the car. The operator there noticed the scratch and immediately called it out.

This is the scratch

I said, ok, yes, the scratch was my mistake so I need to pay for it. I went in the office, the operator took the photo of it and sent it to his manager. He said I need to check with my boss to know how much needs to be paid. We waited for a while and the operator said you need to deposit 1000 NZD. We will check how much the cost of fix would be and return the remaining amount to you in 7-10 working days. I was shocked, I mean definitely it was not worth 1000$. It was such a simple scratch but then I thought it must be their process of taking this minimum amount irrespective of the severity of the damage so I just complied.

They asked me to fill up some form. Based on the questions in the form it was to be filled when you met with an accident. It asked when did accident occur, did you call the police etc. I definitely did not call police because of a scratch on my car :P It was end of our trip and I felt really bad to pay 1000$ for a scratch that could have been avoided. However, we had a flight to catch so we left anyway. On the airport, I thought I should have told them to take 100$ or 500$ max and should not have accepted the 1000$ that they asked me to pay upfront. After this thought, I felt more sad because I paid 1000$ + 2.5% transaction charge (25$) and I was also going to lose on exchange rate twice because of this too and fro money transfer. As I was feeling restless, I emailed them from the airport asking for estimate of the fix and how much time it will take to return the money. However, they didn't have answer to both of them.

I returned the car on 2nd March and it was 12th of March today but still there was no response from them so I send them an email asking the same question again where they mentioned that repairs are scheduled to be completed next week. I mean for me it is max 15 mins job to fix this. I think fix is a very big word for it, you can spray paint the car with the same color as your car and that's it. I am not sure why they are taking so long to "fix it".

Waited for another week and after few more follow ups invoice was generated and shared with me. You will not guess the amount they charged me to fix the scratch. The repair costed me 981.24$ . I cannot stress it enough on this 981$. I mean look at the scratch once again.

How can you attach 981$ to this? I mean I am angry and laughing at the same time. How dumb do you think I am? Definitely, me agreeing to deposit 1000$ for this little thing was not the smartest thing I did but charging 981$ for this scratch was stretched too far. They quietly returned me 18$ and said Thank you for choosing YES rentals.

Their detailed invoice looks like this :

I was actually out of words seeing this crazy invoice. I asked them to explain what does this "Real Bumper Panel Repair" mean and why is it 3 in quantity to which they replied that charge is based on 3 hours of repair work billed at 85$ per hour. They also invited me to cross verify these prices from reputable repair companies in Queenstown.

Me being a coder/developer have done quite a lot of freelance work and charging 85$/hour is not that uncommon in tech area but this 85$ for mechanic/auto technician is so much more. No offence to them but it is what it is. So I did some research as they had invited me to and found this

So from 26$ median range, they are charging me 85$. What are you fixing? NASA spaceships?

I get so hyper looking at this every time I remember it. We had lot of emails back and forth where they tried to explain me that Queenstown is an expensive place so rates are higher than rest of NZ etc. I said I understand that since I have stayed in both USA and Switzerland which are more expensive than NZ but still my head just cannot justify this 981$ for the scratch. I mean look at the scratch and put 981$ - this number against it to fix it. I simply can't accept it and the fact that you think this is "reasonable" is making my blood boil even more. I also told them that there is no way to verify these 3 hours. Who knows if you actually worked for 3 hours? Here number 3 was selected so that it solves the equation to come up with a number close to 1000$. If I had paid only 500$ upfront then hourly rate would have dropped to some less number, number of hours would be less as well and everything would be adjusted accordingly. Basically start working backwards (1000$) and find a way to produce a bill that fits the equation. 18$ were returned to make this look like a genuine company and not to make it an obvious scam.

My wife was waiting patiently till now but really got frustrated with these emails and gave them a 1 star on Google review to which they threw their standard reply. We understand your disappointment but you should drive safely and buy insurance from us (so that we can loot you further).

However, I was still fighting with them (over emails) about how non-sensical it was from them to charge me this much. On 20th of March I got an email from the manager of the Queenstown branch and she told me that she has looked into the matter closely and would like to offer me 150$ if I remove the negative review on Google (and also stopped emailing them).

So please if you are planning to go to NZ, use Yes Rentals!

Lol, you wish!! I told the manager the same thing. What you are charging me is completely unacceptable and does not make any sense. To which manager replies to me that we do not want be stuck in this unpleasant conversation, do we? Just take this 150$ and shut up. Obviously, I am paraphrasing this.

I have been keeping a watch on their Google review since my wife posted the negative review and after her review within 24 hours there were 7 , five star reviews. I doubt how many of them are genuine reviews. For me it felt that those reviews were there to cover up after her review. It achieved two objectives : 1. The newest reviews are the positive review 2. Overall average is maintained.

In the last 15 days, I have not seen their average rating move at all. It has been steady on 4.3 in spite of so many reviews. It looks as if they are trying to maintain that number by manipulating it. I know it is not difficult to buy reviews in this day and age.

I did not accept that 150$ as well because I don't think 830$ is reasonable amount for that scratch and additionally I wanted to write this post. Like their technicians, my hourly rate is very high as well and 150$ is definitely not going to cover it.

[eliospeachie]

10 Peachy Years pt.1

⚠️DISCLAIMER⚠️

This story is heavily inspired by the book/movie called "Call Me By Your Name", I do not own the story, the character Elio, Samuel, or Anella. This story is a work of inspiration, using the script as inspiration.

Part 2 is linked below

2k words

He didn’t plan to leave the country last second, no one really did. But, there Vante was, sitting in an airport with his face covered up with sunglasses, a beanie, face mask, and even a hoodie on for extra measure. He didn’t want anyone to see him, he didn’t need to be seen like this, not after what had happened. He was just lucky to be alive and to be able to get a place to stay last second.

With the summer around, a lot of people were more than willing to rent out their homes or anything at a good price. Vante didn’t want a hotel or a home, he didn’t trust himself to be alone. He didn’t think it’d be smart to do. So, he rented out a room he had seen an ad for online, one that was in a huge home not too far away from town with an orchard of peach trees in the backyard that belonged to a daily of three.

He had bought the plane tickets and the room for the whole summer an hour before he boarded the flight with nothing more than a duffel bag as his carry on shoved with last second clothes and an ipod as a carry on item. When you’re wanting to leave behind your entire life, you don’t really want to pack that much. And when you’re filthy fucking rich, you can just buy what you need when you get there.

The plane had landed early in the morning, taking some time to change out of his clothes into something more comfortable. Even though no one would suspect Vante of being there, he still kept on his face mask, though he changed his hoodie and sweatpants for a pair of shorts and flannel he bought at the airport.

He got a taxi to go to the house he would now be residing in, his eyes watching everything pass them by, a smile never leaving his lips. He was more than excited, it wasn’t every day you get a chance to live a new life and it also wasn’t every day that your new life would be in Italy. Call it ironic, but the brunette found himself to be more than lucky.

He arrived at the house not too long after the taxi had picked him up, admiring the beautiful stone as they pulled into the gravel sidewalk, an older man and woman stepping out of the house just as Vante stepped out, large smiles on both of their faces. They didn’t seem too old, maybe old enough to be his parents actually.

“Hello!” The woman cooed, stepping over to Vante and held onto his hands, placing kisses to his cheeks. “Oh darling, welcome! I’m Anella and this is my husband Samuel!”

“Hi, it’s nice to be able to meet you both.” He smiled at the greetings from Anella, turning to Samuel to shake his hand, a small feeling of nervousness in his stomach. “I know you guys have my name and all but..can you just call me V for a while? I prefer that right now.” That, and not everyone in Italy was named Vante. He didn’t want to risk hearing a fan saying his name and sounding the alarms.

Both parents didn’t mind, simply agreeing and went into small talk about the flight and drive to the home, already asking how V liked Italy even though he had only been there for an hour at most.

“Ah, Elio can help you with those bags! Here, let me call for him.” Samuel went to the front door yelling the name he spoke of only to get no response.

“Samuel, he left earlier, remember?”

“It’s alright, I can get it myself. It’s not heavy anyways.” V chuckled softly, throwing the bag over his shoulder, using a hand to brush back his dark locks. “Is Elio your son?”

“Yes, he is!” Anella smiled at the mention of her son, sighing softly as she led both V and her husband inside, V already entranced with the home and took in what details he could on the way in. “He should be home in time for lunch. Hopefully you two can become friends.”

“Oh, I hope so too.” V chuckled softly, though knowing that might not be true. V wasn’t the best with kids so he was pretty sure that he would have a hard time making friends with the boy. But he couldn’t say that to their faces. Not when he hadn’t even met the boy just yet. “Your room will be up the stairs, the last door to your left. We put some spare clothes in the closet for you to wear when you would like to.”

Elio nodded and gave a gentle thank you before he went to the room that would now be his room for the next three months. It wasn’t that big but it wasn’t small either, just big enough for a desk, bed, and the big dresser with the clothes as promised. He went to the door that was next to the dresser to find a bathroom and then another door. Out of curiosity, he opened the second door to show another bedroom. However, this one looked lived in. There were posters on the walls, books sprawled here and there. It was probably the son’s room.

V took a much needed shower but put on the clothes he had gotten at the airport, sighing to himself as he rubbed his face and went to the window, opening it up. It was nice, the air, the crispness of it. It probably smelled that much fresher with all of the trees near them.

Soon, it was lunch. The three sat at a table outside underneath string lights that weren’t lit up just yet, it probably usually was for dinner and for events. The idea sounded cute, hopefully he would be able to see it tonight.

“Where is that boy?” Anella sighed, taking some juice to pour into her cup.

“Patience, my love. Perhaps he got too caught up. Maybe he’s on his way home now or-”

“Sono qui, sono qui! Scusa, sono così in ritardo, non volevo..” A boy suddenly ran in, one who looked about V’s age. He had a head full of curly hair that had been in a shorter cut, freckles spreading across his nose and cheeks, thick eyebrows, and piercing blue eyes. He was..handsome. The boy turned to V, a small smile on his lips as he nodded his head as a little greeting, sitting down in the chair next to him, though a bit farther, shaking his hand. “Elio. Nice to meet you.”

“V.”

The lunch went on smoothly, V mainly sitting in silence as he ate except for answering small talk questions and complimenting the food as he ate. He couldn’t help but steal a few glances at Elio every so often while sharing barely any words with him. Lunch was done fairly quickly, Elio excusing himself to go back to seeing his friends, saying he’d be back for dinner.

And that’s how it went on for the next few weeks. The two boys barely exchanged words together, him mainly staying in his room, out with his friends, or somewhere that V wasn’t. But, one day he got lucky, going into the kitchen where Anella was peeling some peaches, Elio occasionally stealing a piece of the fruit, him and his mother giggling as V walked down, smiling at the two. It was cute to see a family together.

“Oh, V! Buongiorno! Come hai dormito?”

V stood there in the doorway for a second, trying to figure out what the woman meant as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts, his mouth open as his brain tried to search for an answer. “Uh..”

Elio laughed a little, taking another piece of fruit from the bowl. “She asked you how you slept.”

“Oh-” V chuckled with the other two, shaking his head a little in embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah I slept pretty good. The bed actually seems to get more comfortable each night.”

Anella nodded, lightly smacking Elio’s hand when he tried to steal yet another piece, muttering something to him before turning back to glance at V, placing the mango peels onto a napkin on the side. “Were you wanting something to eat? Perhaps some juice?”

“No thank you, Mrs. Perlman. I was actually wondering if you knew where a good cafe close by would be? I want to go into town so I can maybe grab a thing or two from the shops and thought it would be nice to stop by at one.”

“I can show you one.” Elio pitched, catching both Anella and V by surprise, mainly because he didn’t expect the other to volunteer. “I can show you around the town as well. And I’m sure I can help you be your translator.” He took himself off the counter he was leaning on and walked past V, lightly patting his arm as he did. “Come on, we can use the bikes.”

So, the two took the two bikes as Elio said and rode into town. It didn’t take long, five minutes or so? The ride was quiet between the two as they went in, stopping at the cafe Elio had mentioned. He, of course, ordered for the both of them, getting them some blueberry muffins as well since they both didn’t have breakfast.

“Are you from around here?” V asked, looking up at the other sitting across from him while taking a bite of the muffin on his plate.

Elio shook his head, reaching into his pocket and took out a pack of cigarettes, placing one between his lips. “No,” he answered simply. “We used to come here during the summer. And Christmas and a uh..another holiday. But dad grew too attached to here so now we live here.”

“Christmas?” V chuckled, his eyes on the pack of cigarettes. It hadn’t been too long since he last smoked, he was trying to quit, having a cup of coffee every time he wanted one. It was kind of working, only if the coffee was black. When Elio held the pack out to him, as if asking if he wanted one, it took everything in V to shake his head with a polite no, turning his eyes towards the muffin instead.

Elio hummed, taking the lighter and lit the stick between his lips. “And Easter too. We are Jewish, English, American, Italian, French... somewhat atypical.” He laughed a little, taking a puff of the cigarette and moved it away to blow the smoke away from him.

V hummed, nodding his head a little. “I see. What do you and your family do here?”

“Mm, wait for summer to end.” Both boys shared a laugh at that, V shaking his head.

“No no, seriously. What do you do at least? Besides the waiting and hanging out with your friends all of the time?”

Elio sighed a little, his smile staying on his lips, placing the stick back between his lips as he spoke once more. “Transcribe music. Read books. Swim at the river. Go out at night.”

V nodded, tilting his head as he took a moment to look the man over. He could see that, Elio at his desk with headphones over his ears and scribbling on a piece of paper what notes he heard or laying in his bed with a book in his hands. It didn’t sound that surprising.

“Let me ask you something,” Elio chimed, making V snap out of his little daydreams of the other. “Why did you choose to come to Italy if you can’t even speak Italian?”

V couldn’t hide his little laugh of embarrassment, looking off to the side and leaned back in his seat, starting to pick at his nails. It was a little habit he had grown to do it the past few weeks, picking at his hangnails. “I needed somewhere to go last second. I wanted a bit of a summer getaway and uh..what better place than Italy?” Both of them shared a laugh once again, V taking the last bit of his muffin. “I do want to be here for a while though so I might as well learn, right?”

“Maybe I can teach you?”

[itsallyscorner]

Baby’s First Heartbreak

pairing: marvel cast x teen!fem!reader, Scarlett Johansson x reader, Elizabeth Olsen x reader

prompt: the youngest member of the marvel cast experiences her first breakup.

warnings: not much—crying, a break up.

A/n: Tom is 19 here because this is set during Civil War. He was such a baby omg🥺

You were always a firm believer in having hope. No matter what the situation was, you knew that you had to at least try before fully giving up. You were only 18, but it was the mindset you grew up with. You were taught to face things with bravery and confidence, you faced things head to head with all your might. Though some things never went the way you planned, you were still the ray of sunshine you were, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, eager to learn and explore the world.

You had the same mindset going into your first relationship. Love was something you’ve always wanted to experience. Sure, you received it from your friends and family. But you wanted the different kind of love. The special one that was shared between two people. The one that made your heart skip a beat and made you breathless. Where staring into that special someone’s eyes felt like you were being transported into another world where it was just the two of you.

You’ve found that kind of love in a boy from your hometown. The two of you had been friends since pre-k, growing up along side each other, and being there for each other’s success and failures. You’ve known him all your life but the feelings didn’t come till sophomore year of high school. It all just clicked all of sudden; that one day where he said you looked cute in his jumper and the next moment you knew you were seeing him in a new light. Junior year, you were both beating around the bush; constantly pining over each other with longing stares and fingers always brushing against each other. Though you didn’t see him all the time due to your job as an actress. You spent half of the school year in your hometown and the rest at Atlanta. Of course he knew of your job and as much as he hated to see you go, he knew you were doing something that made you happy. So he spent as much time as he could with you before your time together came to an end. A few days prior to your flight to Atlanta, under the night sky of your backyard, he admitted his feelings for you. By senior year, the two of you had been dating for half a year. It had been the best moments of your life, you were in love and high on happiness, it was like nothing in life could ever go wrong.

Now here you were, in your trailer on the set of Captain America: Civil War, sobbing you eyes out. You knew loving could hurt, but not this much. You still felt your heart skip a beat, but it was clenching in heartache. You were still breathless, but because you’ve been trying to catch your breath after every sob that wracked your body. You felt broken. The boy you loved had ripped your heart out of your chest and threw it onto the floor, stomping on it till it stopped beating.

You hiccuped as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You were nothing but a fool. A fool who had hope in something that was never going to work. You sniffled as you snatched tissues out of the box on your bathroom sink, dabbing the material onto your eyes and blowing your nose. Your eyes were red and your cheeks were puffy. A sigh of frustration releases from your body. There was no way you could walk onto set without people asking you what was wrong.

You debated asking your assistant to ask your designated makeup artist to do your makeup in your trailer, you didn’t want to be a bother. But your thumbs were already shamefully typing away the request on your phone. A few minutes later Eleanor, your makeup artist on set, arrives at your trailer with her supplies in hand.

She doesn’t directly question you, but she has the look of a concerned mother once she sees your face. You lie to her and tell her you weren’t having a good day and chalked it up to being homesick.

You dreaded going on set. You weren’t sure if you could face anyone without bursting into tears. The moment you felt like you were okay, your heart would clench, reminding you of the ache it was feeling.

You were in your costume, sitting on the sidelines of the set while you rehearsed your lines. The dialogue from the script acted as a distraction from the current pain you were feeling. The tears had stopped but your eyes felt dry, making you blink multiple times to keep them wet.

“Hey, sweetheart.” You look up and meet the stunning blue eyes of Chris Evans. That typical goofy smile of his was etched onto his features. Usually you would reciprocate that smile, but today you just couldn’t find it in your heart to do so. His smile falters when he sees your face.

“Morning.” You greet him, forcing a smile. Concern shadows on his face as he shifts a bit closer to you. “You alright?” He asks, eyes softening at you. Being the youngest of all the Avengers cast members, everyone had a soft side for you. Especially Chris, who saw you as a daughter.

“Y-yeah, I’ve just got—allergies.” You lied, another fake smile forcing itself onto your lips.

“Well have you taken something to help your allergies? Do you need Allegra? Claritin or something?” He looked around ready to call one of the runners on set to get you some meds.

“No! I took some already, a few minutes ago! It probably hasn’t kicked in yet.” You tell him. He eyes you reluctantly, not knowing if he should believe you. He decides to let it pass and nods, “Ok, tell me if you need anything though.”

You hum in response and tilt your head down back to your script.

The day goes on and everyone had caught on to your lack of—being you. The infamous smile everyone knew you by was barely on your face. You didn’t crack jokes with Anthony or share a giggle with Elizabeth. Instead you were quiet, a frown was on your face as you stared blankly at the floor. You didn’t interact with anybody, keeping to yourself and walking off set whenever one of the Russos called cut.

Anthony and Sebastian watched as you walked off the set. You have all finished a sequence of the airport scene and the Russos had given everyone a break while they rewatched the scenes they shot. Anthony’s brows furrowed while he watched your figure go further and further away. He had tried to cheer you up, telling you a joke about how Seb’s arm lube kept leaking out his fake arm. Your response was nothing but a fake laugh—it wasn’t even a fake laugh, more like a huff of laughter.

“She didn’t laugh at my joke.” Anthony thought aloud. Sebastian quirked an eye at his friend, “Does she have to laugh at all your jokes?”

“No, but even if I tell her a corny ass joke, she’ll still laugh at it.” He expressed, throwing his arms up. Sebastian’s lip pouted as he thought back to your behavior on set. You were acting unusual. He turns to Tom (Holland) and asks, “Hey, has (y/n) said anything to you? Like anything bothering her?”

The Brit shakes his head, “Um, nope. Besides filming, I haven’t spoken to her today.”

Anthony crosses his arms, approaching Tom, “Have you tried speaking to her? We’ve been trying to figure out what’s been going on with her today and you’re the closest to her age here.”

“I—I tried to talk to her, but she didn’t seem in a talking mood. I thought I was bothering her so I just stopped.” Tom answered. He gestures to the direction of the trailers, “I could check up on her right now? Maybe I’ll get her one of her favorite snacks from crafties, it might cheer her up.”

Half of a smile makes it way onto Sebastian’s face at the boy’s efforts. Though you were clearly upset and he felt like they were all prodding at your privacy. “Maybe we should give her some time alone.”

Tom frowns at the older man, “But (y/n)’s upset. Shouldn’t we do something?” Anthony agrees with Tom and looks at Sebastian.

Seb raises his hands up in defense, “I’m just saying—maybe she wants to be alone. She went back to her trailer away from everybody. She probably doesn’t want us shoving our noses into her business, we should respect that.”

Chris joins the group along with Scarlett and Elizabeth. He had overhead the group talking and urged the two ladies to join him in on the conversation.

“You guys talking about (y/n)?” Chris asks, hands on his waist.

“Yeah, Seb says we should leave her be.” Anthony fills him in.

“She told me she had allergies.” Chris starts. “She’s an amazing actress, but kid’s gotta work on the lying.” He finishes. Elizabeth and Scarlett glance at each other.

“Well has anyone talked to her at all today? Besides Chris?” Elizabeth asked the group. Everyone shakes their head. Elizabeth sighs while looking around at anyone else who could’ve talked to you. She spots Eleanor hanging along the sides with her makeup belt on, ready for touch ups. Elizabeth calls her over. Eleanor has her brush ready to powder her down, but Elizabeth politely declines.

“You do (y/n)‘s makeup right?”

Eleanor nods, “Yeah, I do.”

“How was she this morning? We’re just a bit concerned since she’s been acting different today.” Eleanor sighs, knowing if she told them it would be an invasion of your privacy. Although, they were all concerned for you and so was she.

“I got a text from her assistant telling me to do her makeup in her trailer today.” She began. “I walked in and her eyes were red, cheeks puffy—“

Chris apologizes and interrupts her, “Because of allergies?”

Eleanor shakes her head, “No, she never mentioned anything about allergies. But she looked like she’s been crying. She was wiping her face when I arrived.”

“Did she give you a reason for why she was crying?” Scarlett questions her.

“She told me she was feeling homesick.” Eleanor answered. Scarlett turned to Chris and shared a look. Elizabeth thanks Eleanor then turns back to the group.

“We need to check up on her.” Anthony says. All the men nodded and began to make their way to your trailer. Suddenly, they were stopped by Scarlett and Elizabeth.

“But (y/n)—“ Tom said pointing to the trailers. Scarlett shakes her head, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Lizzie and I will go. You guys are gonna overwhelm her with all your questions.” Scarlett insists, much to the men’s dismay. They wanted to be there for you, but maybe a mother figure might help you open up with what’s bothering you. They agree and let the two women go to your trailer. Before they can get to you, they get some snacks from crafties for you.

As soon as you shut the trailer’s door behind you, the tears welled up in your eyes again. It only took a matter of seconds until they fell from your eyes and down your cheeks. You heard some people walk by outside and cover your mouth to muffle the whimpers that came out your mouth. You slid down the door and shoved your head into your hands. You leaned forward against your knees as you cried into your arms. You felt pathetic, embarrassed, anger; you were feeling so many things and the only way to let them all out seemed to be crying.

They heard your cries from behind the door. Scarlett sends Elizabeth an alarmed look as she rushes up to your door. She knocked on it repeatedly, causing you to jump from behind the door. Your cries come to a stop while you try to wipe away the tears as best as you can.

“(Y/n), honey, please open the door.” You hear Scarlett say. You remain silent, getting up and dusting your legs off. You stare at the door, debating whether you should open it or not.

“(Y/n), everyone’s worried about you. We just want to help.” Another voice coaxes you behind the door. Elizabeth. “Please let us in.”

Outside, the two women had their ears pressed up against your trailer’s door. Scarlett tries to get you to open the door again, “It’s only me and Lizzie. I promise.”

There was some shuffling heard behind the door. The door pushes open slowly, making Scarlett and Elizabeth back away. A worried expression appears on Scarlett’s face once she sees you. She cups your cheeks, her thumbs gently swiping away some tears that fell from your eyes. The two of them shuffle inside your trailer. You burst out into tears once again when Scarlett wraps her arms around you. She moves you both to sit on the couch that was in your trailer. She lets you shove your head into the crook of her neck while her hands smoothed your hair. Elizabeth sits behind you rubbing circles onto your back. Your cries broke both their hearts. You were a fairly happy girl, to see you in such pain and heartache was hard to watch.

Scarlett rocks you back and forth, trying to calm you down by whispering comforting words into your ear. She presses a motherly kiss onto your forehead once she sees you start to calm down. Elizabeth waits patiently beside you waiting for when you’re ready to talk. When your whimpers turned into hiccups, Scarlett pulls your face away from her neck to look at you. She frowns when she sees your tear stained cheeks.

“Are you going to tell us what’s going on or are you going to keep bottling it up to yourself?” She asks you softly, tucking strands of your hair behind your ears. Elizabeth chimes in from behind you, “You know, sometimes it helps to tell others what’s bothering you. You don’t have to keep it to yourself, (y/n), you could talk to us.” She gathers your hair together, splitting it into two parts as she began to fish tail braid your hair. 

You take a moment to compose yourself before eyeying the two women. You knew you could trust them. Scarlett was like your on-set mom and Lizzie was like one of your aunts. If you could tell anyone on set what was going on, it would be them.

“He broke up with me.” You confess, eyes trained on your lap. Lizzie’s fingers stop braiding your hair, “What?”

“Peyton, he broke up with me.” You whined, not wanting to say it again. You fiddle with your fingers while a tear falls to your lap.

“Oh honey.” Scarlett cooes pulling you back into her chest. You sniffle and wrap your arms around her torso. Silently crying into her shoulder.

“Did he give you a reason why?” Lizzie asks softly. You move away from Scarlett’s hold and lean against the couch with your knees to your chest. Lizzie wraps an arm around your shoulder for comfort.

You glanced at your phone that was on the coffee table, “H-he texted me earlier this morning. He said he couldn’t do the long distance thing anymore and that he has feelings for somebody else.”

Anger flashes in Scarlett’s eyes, “He broke up with you over a text message?” You nod in response.

“What a dick.” She mutters glaring at your phone. It’s quiet for a few minutes. Until you ask them, “Am I not worth trying for a long distance relationship?”

Lizzie shakes her head, “No, don’t you ever think that because you are.”

You sigh and throw your head back, “Then why did he break up with me? Is there something wrong with me? Am I not pretty enough?” Scarlett interrupts your questions by shushing you.

“There is not a damn thing wrong about you. Don’t you ever let a man, let alone a boy, make you question your worth.” Scarlett advises you a stern look on her face. “You are the most sweetest and loveliest girl I have ever met in my life. You’re kind, you care about the people around you—you even laugh at Anthony’s stupid jokes.”

Lizzie snorts beside you and squeezes your shoulder, “And his jokes are the worst.”

Scarlett continues, “You are a talented young woman already making it big in the movie industry and you did it all on your own. You are beautiful inside and out. You’re perfect, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Then why did he leave me?”

“Because he’s an idiot that doesn’t know your worth.” Lizzie answers resting her head on your shoulder. “I know it hurts now but these things happen for a reason. He wasn’t meant for you and you weren’t meant for him. Maybe somewhere in the future you guys will meet and try again. Or maybe you’ll move on with someone new. That’s just how it is. It may sound harsh, but it’s the truth.”

Scarlett nods at Lizzie, “Take it from me, I’ve been married twice. When it seems like you found that special person, sometimes it’ll all come crashing down. And it’s not an easy thing to go through. It’s full of pain, heartache, self doubt and a bunch of other heart wrenching things. But in the end you come out a stronger version of yourself.”

You stare at Scarlett, “How did you do it?”

Scarlett softly smiles at you, “Well, I had lots of friends who supported me every step of the way. But most importantly, I valued myself. I did things that made me happy and took care of myself mentally and physically.”

You bite your lip in thought as you stare at the ground.

“Listen to me.” Scarlett urges you, “You’re young, (y/n). You’re going to meet so many more people in the future that’ll bring you so much happiness and love in your life. Don’t beat yourself up over one boy who decided to leave you because he wasn’t committed for a long distance relationship. You’re going to be okay.” She assures you, cradling your face. Your lips form into a tight smile while you nod in response.

“You have us and the rest of the people outside of this trailer to support you. We’ll always have your back, whatever it is, I promise you that. You’re not going to go through this by yourself.” Lizzie promises you, taking your hand into hers. You hum and rest your head on her shoulder. You pull on Scarlett’s arm to join you and Lizzie. She chuckles and hugs you from behind.

“Thank you guys.” You whisper, genuinely grateful that you had them in your life. Lizzie pecks your temple, “Anytime darling.”

[rocorambles]

Home Schooling

Pairing: Stepdaddy!Meian x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, Pseudo-Cest, NSFW, Invasion of Privacy, Overbearing and Controlling Behavior, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Non-Con/Rape, Degradation, Overstimulation, Humiliation

Summary: Why would Meian let you go to college in Tokyo when he can teach you everything you need to know right here in Osaka?

A/N: Happy birthday @iwaasfairy ! Of course I need to dedicate my first ever Meian fic to you on this very special day~ I hope this fic manifests a real life DILF Meian for you!!!

Meian has always been protective, even before your mother’s untimely demise. You remember how uncomfortable you had been about this handsome man waltzing into your family home one day, acting like a father figure almost since day one. Only your love for your mother and your desire for her to find happiness again kept your mouth shut, although when she wasn’t in view, you not so subtly found ways to keep your contact with the older man as minimal as possible.

There’s nothing necessarily “wrong” with Meian. In all honesty, if he weren’t so overwhelmingly involved with your life, you’d even argue that he’s a great guy. You can tell he truly cares for your mom, maybe even loves her— although you gag at the cheeky winks and flirtatious touches they generously dote on each other in front of you. And you’re happy for her! You really are. It’s been a long time since you’ve been forced to rely only on yourselves, only on each other. You’ve seen how hard she’s tried, keeping a strong front whenever you’re around, working twice as hard as anyone else to try and fill the aching hole in both your hearts from the loss of your father. If anyone deserves happiness, it’s her.

But there’s something unnerving, even aggravating, about the way Meian interferes with every aspect of your life. You can’t help a strange foreboding feeling twisting inside of you as a heavy gaze trails after you wherever you go, as he begins to rope you into every conversation he has with your mother, almost demanding and insistent about not letting you withdraw to your room despite your well-meaning wishes to give them their privacy.

You try to be on your best behavior, not wanting to be the reason your mom’s new relationship is ruined, especially when you can see just how much she likes him. But every time he opens his mouth and questions everything you do, everything you wear, and everything you say, you can feel your temper rise, wondering where his audacity to act as a father figure comes from.

It’s easy enough to retreat to your room, closing your door and sighing in relief as you escape those sharp eyes. You find comfort in the fact that you have at least one safe place he can’t breach, finding false security in the hope that he’d never invade an adult woman’s bedroom. Except he does, and your heart drops when you notice the miniscule adjustments in your room — your underwear drawer slightly ajar with some pieces missing, your bedsheets slightly rumpled in a way you know you hadn’t left them this morning. Things you know you could never bring up to your mother without sounding like a madwoman. So without irrefutable proof, you keep quiet, knowing that at least there’s not much more time left before you can truly run away from all of this.

Being an adult comes with many responsibilities and adventures, and together, your mother and you pore over myriads of college pamphlets, debating which locations make the most sense, planning how you’re going to make the finances work, and thinking about which colleges have the courses best suited for you. It’s a fun and stressful rollercoaster, but you beam when your mother proudly ruffles your hair, when you both agree on you leaving Osaka behind and adventuring out, creating new memories and beginnings in a different city.

(“Plus, I’ll be able to visit you and play tourist”, your mom excitedly says, and you giggle, letting her affectionately hold you as you stare at the universities you’ve narrowed your choices down to.)

The future seems bright and exciting as you studiously sit down and scan over textbooks and practice exams, dutifully attending your tutoring sessions, cramming for the college entrance exam. It’s all going to plan, except Meian has different opinions. And this time, you can’t hold back the scowl when he yet again goes on and on about how he doesn’t understand why you can’t just stay in Osaka for college.

It’s not a new argument by any means. Just the same few questions being twisted and worded differently and tossed back in your face on a daily basis.

“Don’t you think your mom will be lonely if you move away and only come back for the holidays?”

“Isn’t that what you’re here for? To keep her company?”

“Don’t you feel bad about spending your mom’s carefully saved money on room and board when you could just continue living with us instead and just pay tuition?”

You silently thank your mom when she steps in, firmly telling Meian that she doesn’t mind, that this is exactly why she’s saved up.

But the arguments keep on coming, and you can feel the tension growing in your household, your own stomach churning with guilt and worry, wondering if you’ll end being the cause of their breakup after all as you constantly hear their raised voices going back and forth about you leaving or staying in Osaka.

So despite your discomfort and wariness towards Meian, you can’t help the relieved grin that stretches across your face when your mom comes squealing to you, flinging her arms around your body and shoving her gorgeous engagement ring in your face. You even muster up a slightly tight smile, that only feels a little forced, as you look to the tall man who leans in the doorway, muttering congratulations before directing your attention back to your mom, fondly smiling as she continues raving about her new piece of jewelry, ignoring the way Meian continues to loiter around the both of you.

Your mom is the most beautiful bride as she walks down the aisle and you stare in awe at how she glows, hoping one day you’ll look even remotely as mesmerizing as she does. And while you look on, star-eyed and in wonder, at the woman who had raised you, you miss the way dark eyes intently gaze at you, eyes that should be on the woman he’s about to publicly vow to be with his entire life.

Maybe if you had been more aware, more cautious, you wouldn’t have so eagerly waved both of them off on their honeymoon, wouldn’t have been so excited to shove your mom towards the airport, giving her one last hug and kiss before sillily demanding that she enjoy herself and have the best time of her life.

Maybe then your heart wouldn’t be shattered into a thousand tiny pieces as you collapse in Meian’s strong arms, sobbing uncontrollably and shaking your head in denial when he returns by himself and breaks the news of your mother’s passing.

You delay going to college in Tokyo for a year, allowing yourself time and space to grieve. Or so you had planned, but it seems that Meian has no intention of letting you have your privacy. You share the house with him after your mother’s funeral, unable to argue against him completely moving in when he now owns the property.

He’s still up to his usual overbearing ways, although his tone is softer as he treats you like a wounded animal, carefully handling you as he rouses you from your sleep in the mornings, startling you the first few times he sits on the edge of your bed and wakes you up by tenderly stroking your cheek, preparing all your meals for you and scolding you when he thinks you haven’t eaten enough. It’s almost frightening how easily you fall into his rhythm, not even flinching after a while when his large hand finds itself on your face, your shoulder, your back, your hand, your thigh. Tiny, seemingly platonic touches border the line of what’s appropriate for a guardian and their ward. Although, deep down, you know the two of you are diving in dangerous territory when you feel his knuckle brush against the swell of your ass briefly, his calloused fingertips quickly skimming your breasts, his palm squeezing just a tad too high up your thigh.

But you seek any remaining softness your mother had instilled in your heart for a man who’s lost his wife of just a few days, letting your new guardian (you don’t dare call him father) do as he pleases, not wanting to deal with any more conflict when your heart is still mending. And maybe, just maybe, you find some solace in his touches, in the love he forces upon you, seeking even just a hint of the parental affection your mother had bestowed upon you.

Time heals all wounds, or so they say. You can’t agree that it resolves everything, but you can admit that you’re feeling much better now that a year is almost up, ready to move on, live your life, and make your mother proud. You start re-looking into Tokyo housing, comparing the expenses of living off-campus versus living in the dorms, typing and reworking budgets over and over again in your Excel sheet until your eyes burn and you let out a huge yawn.

Coffee now. Budgets later.

You trudge to the kitchen, brewing a fresh pot of dark caffeinated liquid, letting out a pleased sound when the aroma fills the air, happily making your way back to your room to revisit some of your calculations, mug in hand. But you freeze when you see Meian sitting at your desk, clicking through the different tabs of apartment and dorm options you had been looking at, scrutinizing your planned expenses.

There’s no reason for the guilt that claws at your chest when you see the way his jaw clenches as he turns to look at you, hurt in his eyes as he silently demands an explanation for what he’s looking at. But it’s guilt that has you slamming down the mug on your desk and planting your firsts on your hips in a confrontational stance, that has defensive angry words spewing from your lips as you yell at him for invading your privacy, that has you storming towards him and trying to shove his much larger and stronger frame away from your computer.

But it’s futile and you gasp when you’re pulled into his lap, his hands easily pinning you to him and holding you still as he holds you in a mockery of an embrace, your back against his toned chest, his mouth right against your ear.

“You were just going to leave for Tokyo without telling me?”

You want to stay angry, want to continue twisting and fighting against his grip. But the vulnerability you hear in his words has you staying still, has you anxiously biting your lower lip as you try and find the right words to soothe the man clutching you.

“I- I didn’t think I needed to tell you anything. This was always the plan. You knew I only put off attending college for a year to take some time for myself. But I’ll come back and visit during the holidays-”

Your words are cut off by a pained gasp as thick arms tighten their hold on you, but the growled threat in your ear has your anger bubbling over, masking any other feeling.

“You’re not leaving.”

The matter of fact tone, the final decisiveness of the words, the way Meian leaves no room for discourse or arguments, has you lashing out at him and before you can second guess yourself, the position you’re in, or the difference in power between the two of you. In a matter of seconds, you’re snarling right back at him.

“You’re not my father! You can’t tell me what I can or can’t do.”

Righteous pride swells in your chest and you spare him a sharp, wicked grin, haughtily tilting your head up condescendingly, basking in the viciousness of your words. But what you aren’t expecting is the hearty laugh he responds with, something dark and gleeful swirling in his eyes as a cruel smile cuts across his face.

“You’re right. I’m not your father, not even your guardian. So this is fine, right?”

You scream as the arms still wrapped around you haul you up, your limbs thrashing and flailing as you try to force your way free from his iron grip to no avail. Fear and anger make you hysteric as you register the fact that you’re quickly approaching the room that once belonged to your mother, the room Meian now resides in. Disbelief and nausea overtake you when you’re assaulted by the familiar four walls as you’re haphazardly tossed onto the bed, sobbing as memories of your mother surround you and invade your thoughts while calloused hands easily tear your clothes off your body.

But you’re immediately silenced, sobs turning into choked whimpers as a large hand grabs the bottom half of your face, fingers digging into your cheeks, a palm suctioning your mouth shut.

“Where are all those manners your mother taught you? What would she think if she heard you throwing a temper tantrum like a child?”

The callousness of his words hits you like a ton of bricks. Meian smirks at the new round of fat, watery drops that stream down your face, mockingly cooing down at you, calling you a good girl, praising your newfound silence as his hand slowly drags down until it's wrapped around your neck, where he lightly squeezes, reveling in the adorable whimper you release.

But as pathetically amusing as you are, sniveling and choking under him, there’s more that he’s keen on seeing. You feel like a slab of meat under his observant gaze. Prized meat, but meat all the same as he runs his hands across your figure like a butcher testing the firmness of his livestock, pinching and prodding almost methodically, coldly. Only the amusement and hunger in his eyes are indicative of how much this is truly affecting him. Yet it’s tolerable, barely, if you just stare up at the ceiling, pretending you’re at an incredibly invasive medical exam.

He’d be offended by how hard you’re trying to ignore him if it weren’t for the telltale signs of your arousal that you desperately try to deny. He grins at how your nipples harden from just a few teasing circles, how your clit stands to attention, your pretty folds already beginning to glisten as he pets your velvety walls. You’re even more beautiful than he had imagined after watching you prance around the home in your skimpy loungewear. And suddenly, his pants are far too tight, cock straining uncomfortably against the fabric he’s quick to rip off. It’s music to his ears when you shakily say his name over and over again, as you try and resist the way he forces himself between your legs, hands spreading your thighs apart, toned body pinning you down, something hard nudging at your tight entrance.

“Meian, please. Please! Please, Meian.”

He ignores your tears, ignores the other words of resistance that slip past your mouth, head dipping down to your mouth and neck, kissing and marking every part of you he can reach, murmuring for you to call him by his first name. And when he loses patience with your whining, you finally acquiesce as he forcefully shoves himself balls deep inside you, a sneer ruining his handsome face as he lightly slaps your face in approval when you wail his first name, “Shugo” howled in an agonizing exclamation as you try to somehow dislodge him from ripping you in two.

“Look at that, the little slut can behave when she wants to. I bet your mother would be so proud.”

You hate how he drags your mom’s name in the ground as he defiles you, violates you in the bed they had once shared. You hate how his large frame feels crushing you, overpowering you, making you feel so incredibly helpless and weak. But mostly, you hate the slick lewd sounds your pussy makes as he pounds hard and fast into you, the undeniable proof that your body doesn’t hate this nearly as much as it should. Hot angry disgusted tears roll down your face as you glare up at him, desperately fighting back the rising moans threatening to humiliate you even more.

Your little defiant attitude is punished by Meian thrusting even harder into you, practically bending you in half as he pushes down on the back of your thighs, forcing you into a mating press. And he laughs at your wrecked face, hungrily taking in the way your eyes roll back in your head, the way your jaw drops wide open, your tongue and rivulets of drool trickling down your face, wanton moans loudly filling the room.

“For all your whining and complaining, you sure do look like you’re enjoying this, sweetheart.”

You wish you could deny his words, retort back with a scathing remark, do anything really. But when he reaches a hand between the two of you and rubs rapid circles against your erect clit, hips still pistoning against yours, cock stuffing you full, your mind blanks and an animal-like howl tears through the room as your body convulses, pussy walls clamping down and quivering as you cream all over the shaft still dragging against your sensitive walls, only heightening your peak.

Meian briefly wonders if this is what heaven feels like (or as close to heaven as someone like him is going to get) as he groans at the way your velvety walls milk his cock, gritting his teeth to not be dragged over the edge with you. He’s not delusional to think that any of this is right, the photo of his ex-wife, your mother silently watching you from the nightstand only emphasizing just how wrong this all is, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when you’re a fucked out mess underneath him, so obediently and submissively slurring his name over and over again, drowning in pleasure and bliss.

There’s nothing more he wants than to just lose himself in the feeling of your tight walls, to fill you, mark you, claim you with his seed, but he’s not quite ready for a full house just yet. He has a few more years alone with you all planned out in his head before he breeds your pretty little womb. So just as his control teeters on the edge, he pulls out of you, casually sitting back and spreading his legs, slowly stroking his cock as he orders you to come and suck him off.

He’s almost proud of the little fight you still have left in you, lips quirking upwards at the way you try to ignore him, trying to look anywhere but at him. But his balls are almost painfully tight, his cock aching for release.

“Suck me off like a good girl or I’m going to cum inside of you over and over again until you’re knocked up. Bet your mother would have loved that for you. Her precious college-bound girl turned into a pregnant uneducated whore.”

It’s an empty threat, but you don’t ever need to know that, not when it has you obeying so well as he threads his fingers through your hair, groaning as your hot wet mouth sinks down on his cock still covered in your essence. All it takes is a few harsh shoves of your face, his hand pulling you up and down like a warm fleshlight, and as he finally reaches his end, he completely pulls you off, arching your neck back in a way that leaves your mouth open as he spurts thick white stripes all over your face and in your orifice.

You make to wipe your face, grateful at least that this is all over, but before you can move even an inch, you yelp as you’re shoved back down on your back, hands instinctively trying to push at broad shoulders as your legs are once again forced open. You’re a quick learner though, and with one dark warning look from the man whose face is now hovering over your spent hole, you instantly bring your hands down to your sides, clawing and fisting the ruined bed sheets instead as Meian ravenously licks and laps at your dripping cunt. The disgusting wet sounds echo in your ears as pleasure and shame swirl inside of you, a crescendo ascending too quickly, too high.

But your thrashing and blissed out pleas to stop, to let you rest, only serve to whet Meian’s appetite even more. Time becomes surreal and meaningless as you drown and float in a mixture of pain and pleasure, brought to climax over and over again until you feel boneless, your pussy and body ceaselessly twitching, mind broken beyond repair as you babble incoherently, unsure of anything except the lips and tongue at work between your thighs.

You cum one last time, body barely moving aside from a slight shudder, too worn out, too dazed to even comprehend the fact that Meian unravels himself from you, wiping his face of your arousal and taking a few swigs of water before making his way towards your desk and dialing the admissions office number he finds. And as the phone rings and he leans back in your chair, he adoringly gazes at the sinful display you make, looking like the epitome of debauchery as your body splays out, a stupid blissed out expression on your face, reeking of sex and sweat.

He strokes his cock as it rises back to life, raring to go again as he licks his lips, tasting your sweet juices on his tongue, never stopping even when a voice finally comes through the line. He only pauses slightly to bite back a laugh when something shatters in your pretty eyes, a sliver of realization piercing through your dazed look as you hone in on his conversation.

But you do nothing to stop him, unable to do anything but listlessly stare and watch as he cancels your enrollment in front of you, hangs up the phone, and casually makes his way back towards you as if he hadn’t ruined years of hard work and decimated your future plans in mere minutes.

“There’s no need to go all the way to Tokyo for education, sweetheart. Not when I can teach you everything you need to know right here. Now open up your mouth so we can get your first lesson started.”

[jess-unkommentiert]

[13] A weekend in New York (Seb's POV)

-> Heartbeats 💕 Masterlist

The chapter shows the events of the weekend from Sebastian's POV. That's why it starts on Friday - two days before Christina posted the photo on Instagram.

Friday, November 25th 2022 – New York Sebastian arrived at JFK Airport in the evening. He had to shoot two more scenes today, before leaving to his hometown for a photo shoot and some press stuff for his movie „Sharper". This should have been released in October but was postponed to the beginning of December because of delays in post-production.

He was excited for both of his appointments although his insecurity made him a little anxious while thinking about the photo shoot. For a moment he had thought about asking y/n to come to New York with him but he decided that this would have been weird.

Rushing their relationship would be wrong and could ruin it - but he enjoyed every second with her and he knew that she would made him feel comfortable during the photo shoot.

But now he had to go through this alone.

Speaking of y/n: he thought about meeting Christina this weekend to ask her a few things about y/n. He didn't want to ruin things with her so asking for some advises would be great.

Sitting in a cap on his way from the airport to his apartment he grabbed his phone and texted Christina:

Sebastian Hi Chrissy, I'm in NYC this weekend. Wanna hang out tomorrow evening?

Christina Hi Seb. Haven't heard from you in a while. Hope you are good. Of course I would like to hang out with you. Come over to New Brunswick and we can enter the bar again, where we used to get drunk as teenagers.

Sebastian Sounds good. I'll be around at 8:00 pm tomorrow right after my photo shoot.

Christina Okay. Can't wait to see you, Seb!

Sebastian Can't wait, too, Chrissy.

He was kind of nervous, because he didn't know how much y/n had shared with her friend so far. Maybe he could go full spy mode and get to know if she liked him the same way he liked her.

He felt the tension between them and she was all cuddly last weekend, but that didn't mean that she had fallen for him. Maybe she was this cuddly with all of her male friends.

On the other hand she agreed to go a date with him next weekend. Their first official date. He needed it to be perfect and he can't wait for cuddling with her while watching one of his favorite movies - again.

Maybe he would even be brave enough to kiss her. He couldn't nearly keep himself from doing that on Tuesday morning. It felt like it was the right thing to do but he didn't want to scare her.

Another thing he needs to ask Christina was about the pace of their relationship. He wanted to do it right. Not too fast and not too slow. He was so scared of losing her again.

That woman amazed him on their first meeting and he couldn't be happier when he heard that y/n was part of the hair and make-up crew for Cap4. He even convinced Anthony to write an E-Mail to Bryan that he (Anthony) wished to work with y/n in that movie. That's why Bryan and Jennifer gave y/n the responsibility for the men and Susan for the women.

She was only in his life for two weeks (we're not counting the first meeting a few months ago now) but he couldn't imagine living without her. She made him laugh and feel happy again. After all the pain he had been through because of the fake PR relationship with that Spanish model and a crazy fake break-up thing with the other actress, he was even more anxious as he was before.

But every moment he was with y/n it felt like his anxiety was gone. Like she was the medicine. The way that little crinkles appear on her mouth and next to her beautiful green eyes when she smiles, made him feel butterflies in his stomach. Every fucking time.

"You can't ruin that, Sebastian! Don't be an idiot. Finding someone like her is hard." he thought.

That's why he needed some advises from Christina and was happy that she agreed to meet him on Saturday.

Things were a bit complicated between them in the last year of university. That's why he was more than surprised when she asked him to come to her birthday party. He rescheduled everything to be there. To maybe talk to her about everything that had happened. But there were too many people on her party that evening. And he was with Mackie. And y/n.

Maybe they had a chance to talk about that tomorrow as well.

The cap stopped in front of his apartment complex in Soho, he grabbed his bag, paid the driver and left the car. When he was gone for a longer time some of his friends were living in his apartment a few days a week to be sure that everything is okay. Since his address was leaked a few years ago he found more paparazzi and fans waiting in front of his home than he liked to. He was always grateful for his amazing fans but his home should have been his safe place. Where he can be as rare and vulnerable as he wanted to be without being scared someone would see him crying on the fire escape.

He entered his apartment and put his backpack on the counter of the kitchen that was right next to the entrance. It wasn't a big kitchen but enough for him as he was not even able to cook properly. Thanks to the american food culture and he living in a huge city as NYC he was able to find food everywhere. Even when he was on a diet for a specific role.

His apartment was a maisonette that means he had stairs that lead to another level within his apartment. The second level above wasn't huge as it only contained his bedroom. He knew that he would probably need a different apartment when he will be married someday, planning to start a family. He was 40 years old and still single. That's why his mum was always complaining that she would never have grandchildren. But he just hadn't found the right woman yet.

The long day of shooting and the 2,5 h flight from Atlanta to New York exhausted him, so he decided to fall straight into his bed.

~~~

Saturday, November 26th 2022 – New York The next morning he woke up (without an alarm) at around 6:30 am, jumped out of bed and made himself a coffee. He texted his personal trainer Don Saladino if he had time to workout with him and to his surprise Don answered immediately that Seb could come around to his house. Don had not only his own home-gym, he had a whole building (called 'The barn') next to his actual house where he can train. That place was awesome.

So Sebastian got a rental car (as he was living right in the center of NYC without a parking slot or garage he didn't have his own car) to drive to Don's house which was a bit outside of NYC.

They had an amazing and sweaty workout session and sat down in Don's living room to talk about everything for over an hour afterwards. Don wasn't only his personal trainer - he became his friend over the last years.

The photo shoot was scheduled for 4:00 pm in an office in Lower Manhattan so he was able to go there by walking - which was a relief. New York traffic was horror.

He said Goodbye to Don and his family and made his way back to his apartment. He arrived at 1:30 pm so it was lunch time. As he didn't want to be bloated during the shooting he decided to get a light salad in a 'salad bar' (yes there are restaurants in NYC that only sell salads!) right down the street. He ate his salad at home and as he saw that there were bell peppers in his salad he felt the urge to text y/n.

Sebastian Ate bell peppers today. Totally didn't taste what color they were. Hope you have a wonderful weekend. Heading out to my photo shoot in an hour. I am excited!

Y/N I am pretty sure you will do amazing during the photo shoot. Have a good weekend in my favorite city. I miss it.

Sebastian I am pretty sure NYC misses you to. So do I. (Message deleted)

He sighed and threw his phone in his backpack. It was time to go to the photo shoot and he didn't want to think about y/n too much as he was scared of losing his focus while shooting. It was his job and he wanted to be good at it. On his way to the loft office he decided to buy a coffee at a Starbucks nearby. He was known as a 'coffee addict' as he was having a cup of coffee with him most of the time - no matter if it was in the morning or in the evening.

The shooting went well - he felt more comfortable than he expected and some of photos even in his eyes were pretty good.

The photograph had send him some of the photos on his phone and some behind the scenes footage. He was confident enough to post some of the footage on his Instagram and put his phone back into the backpack as usually his Instagram notifications explode after he posted literally anything.

He went back to his rental car and texted Christina that he was on his way to New Brunswick now. As he was a bit early Christina offered him to come to her house before they head out to the bar together.

He arrived at Christina's house at 6:55 pm, parked the car in the driveway and rang the doorbell. Christina opened the door and gave him a hug. They went into her living room where Christina offered Sebastian a drink. He needed some alcohol to calm his nerves before he was going to ask Christina about y/n.

After a little bit of small talk Sebastian didn't want to hide around the bushes any longer and decided to confront Christina with the topic he urgently needed to talk about.

„Listen Chrissy, there is a specific topic I want to talk with you about"

Christina looked at him with her eyebrows furrowed. She didn't know what to expect but she had a slight idea.

„You know you can talk to me about everything, Seb. Go ahead"

He sighed and could feel his insecurity and anxiety grow inside of him. But he needed to be brave now.

„You know that I work with y/n for the current movie and we're going to have our first official date next weekend. I wanted to ask you if there is something I should know about her and how I should handle the whole dating situation. I really like her but I don't want to ruin it with her."

His body language portrayed his insecurity and he was not even able to look Christina in the eyes. She had heard from y/n that they were on a karaoke night and that she thought Sebastian was „a really nice and funny guy" and she remembered her heart eyes after the birthday party. But y/n hadn't told her that the are officially dating, what surprised her.

„What do you mean with 'official' first date?" she asked and tried not to let him know how much she already knew.

„Well we were on a karaoke night with Sam, Ann my assistant, y/n and Susan who is another hair and make-up artist at the movie. And.."

He wasn't able to continue as Christina immediately said: „Wait Ann? I thought Ethan was your assistant?!"

„Ethan and Mina are expecting their second child. So we decided that Ethan needs more time for his family. We chose Ann together as second assistant. It works good so far!" he answered smiling. Christina nodded without saying any further so that he could continue with the explanation.

„Anyways. Two days after the karaoke night I met y/n at a grocery store and I took the chance to invite myself for dinner that day. We had good food and wine and ended up cuddling on the couch while watching 'Notting Hill'. Well at least I was watching - she fell asleep after a few minutes." he smiled while remembering y/n's warm body resting on his chest. Christina saw his face expressions and exclaim:

„Sebastian Stan. You really fell for that women!"

He raised his arm and scratched his neck while making a grimace. „Yeah, I think I do like her a lot" he whispered more to himself than to Christina but she still heard him.

He finally looked into Christina's eyes and asked the question he wanted to ask right from the beginning: „As you guys are very good friends, I wanted to ask you if you have probably talked about her and me and if there is a slight chance that she likes me a little bit."

She waited a few seconds to answer and it felt like a lifetime until Sebastian finally heard her voice: „Well, after my birthday party we talked about you. She really liked spending time with you on that evening. But as I know how you've been at Rutgers... I told her that you were always a playboy and I didn't want her to be another of your trophies."

He was shocked when he heard what she said. It was true that he didn't take it very serious with girls and women during college. And even afterwards. He had a lot of short-time relationships, he even - and he was not proud of it - cheated on some of his girlfriends.

But since he became older he was looking for 'the one'. The one to stay with his whole life. The one to marry and to start a family with. The one to be excited to come home every day until he was dead.

Christina saw the shocked expression on his face and that he wasn't able to answer, so she quickly added: „But maybe this was just jealousy talking out of me." she looked on the ground - unable to look into his blue eyes.

„Wait. What do you mean... jealousy?" Sebastian stumbled.

„Don't you remember that night right before you went to London for your exchange semester?"

„No, I don't. What do you mean? Chrissy please tell me!" he said and took her hand into his - trying to comfort her as she was clearly uncomfortable with this conversation.

„The last night before you went to London we were in our favorite bar. And we all had way to much alcohol so I was finally brave enough to share with you that I was badly in love with you." she said in a low voice. It felt like she was ashamed for her feelings from over 20 years ago.

„I don't remember that. Maybe I really had too much alcohol" he chuckled - trying to lighten her mood.

She ignored his comment and continued: „That's why I took double the courses while you were in London. So that I had the chance to graduate before your return. To never see you again."

That made him really sad. They were always good friends and he never really figured out why that changed while he was in London. Now he knew. And his answer wouldn't make things better between them:

„Well. Guess we had bad timing then. Because I was head over heels for you from the first day I met you until the day I left to London. Maybe we should have just talked about it with each other.."

Her jaw was on the floor when they looked each other in the eyes. They could have been with each other all the time? Could have been married by now and even having kids? And they ruined it just because none of them was brave enough to share their feelings sober? That's a shame.

Maybe they just were not meant for each other.

Sebastian saw Christina chuckle a little before her chuckle grow into a huge laughter and her expression smoothed.

„Well Seb, we were falling in love with each other but never managed to date. What a shame. We could have pretty children by now. Nevermind. It's the past. It's over. Now we need to make sure you and y/n don't do the same mistake and not mention your feelings for each other!" she said and her face turned into serious mode again.

„Yeah, I really want to make things right with her. She is very special." he said with sparkles in his eyes. He couldn't hide his feelings for y/n anymore and he didn't want to.

„She is. And she is not complicated at all. She has kind of a tragic story with one of her ex-boyfriends but she needs to tell you that on her own. So just treat her well, Seb. Don't touch her or grab her arm or waist in a fight to prevent her from running away. That is the worst thing you could do to her. You will understand once you know the story. That's my only advice to you. I know you long enough to know that you will give her all the love she deserves, that you will care for her and protect her. You won't ruin things with her, Seb. I am pretty sure. You two will be a cute couple!" she said and now grabbed his hand while looking in his eyes. She smiled at him and he smiled back.

The story of her ex-boyfriend made him curious, but he had an idea what this was about. He decided to let her tell him that story when she was ready to do. All of his anxiety was gone, now that he knew that Christina believed in them.

After their conversation they headed towards the little bar in town and enjoyed the rest of the evening. As Seb had to drive back to NYC he didn't had any alcohol besides the one drink at Christina's house. That chatted, the laughed, they danced. It was an amazing evening.

He was still smiling all the way back to his apartment. He and y/n would have a realistic chance. Now it was up to him to treat her well and he didn't plan to do anything else.

~~~

Sunday, November 27th 2022 – New York Sunday was full of press stuff for his movie 'Sharper' that included a lot of interviews - a few of them in person and other ones via zoom.

His flight back to Atlanta was scheduled for 6 pm so he was going to the airport right from the hotel room the agency booked for them to do the interviews. Ethan and Mina would take care of his apartment for the next weeks so he texted his cleaning team to clean the apartment before his friends would arrive some when next week.

The day went by really fast and he didn't even had the chance to check his phone a lot. Between two interviews he had seen that y/n liked the behind the scenes footage from his photo shoot and his heart skipped a beat. He wanted to text her but he didn't had the time as the next interview started almost immediately. He would text her later when he was waiting at the airport.

Right before heading to the airport he said goodbye to his cast mates as well as to the directors and producers of the movie. He already check-in online and as he just had his backpack he didn't need to be at the airport too early. He made it through the airport security check and waited in a lounge for boarding.

He felt his phone buzz more than usual and grabbed it out of his pocket.

Christina tagged him on a photo from last night and comments and likes went crazy over her caption:

Rutgers reunion: tonight my university crush confessed to me that he was in love with me as well. 👫🏽

He commented two green heart emojis „💚💚" underneath the photo and didn't even realized what he had done.

But he would find out soon enough...