#like it’s not bad but I’m so used to calling Sebastian it feels weird

[rain-cloudsky]

I can’t believe this-

Sebastian debests new name is Eustace fucking winner, I am going to cry now

[runningincircl3s]

Nothing Ever After

Noah Sebastian x Reader x Vinny Mauro

Chapter Seventeen

masterlist

chapter warnings: alcohol, SMALL SMUT WARNING (through a flashback), reader singing just pretend, subtle foreshadowing through the songs...

this is just a fun and super silly filler chapter! bad omens want to keep their cool and mysterious reputation but ik these guys are lovers of fun, also i wrote this chapter when i was soo tired so reading this back honestly felt like a fever dream

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The bar was pretty lively tonight, the constant hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter filled the air, along with a lingering smell of alcohol as you stood at the bar and ordered another margarita before asking Noah if he'd like another drink

“I’ll have a pepsi.” He smiled, looking up from his phone. 

“One margarita and a pepsi…” The bartender nodded, adding it to Noah’s tab. 

“I just told the guys we’re here, they're already on their way,” Noah mentioned, leaning against the bar as you waited for your drinks.

The two of you had already been here for about half an hour. It’s been nice to spend time with him away from the others and somewhere that isn’t a hotel room or empty tour bus.

“You sure it's okay for them to join us?"

“Yeah of course, I thought that was the plan anyway.” You smiled, glancing at your phone as you waited for the bartender to return with your drinks. You had been hoping for a text from Vinny, maybe an apology, but so far, nothing.

“So," Noah asked as you were given your drinks, "How was your weekend?"

“It was fine,” you said, putting your phone down on the bar, “Vinny’s parents were lovely, and I made sure I got plenty of pictures for them.”

“I didn’t know you and Vin were even that close,” Noah says, raising an eyebrow, “Wasn't it kind of weird?”

“Not at all, anyway his parents invited me, didn't they. Vinny and I are pretty good friends, I guess you just don’t see us around each other that often.” And you wonder why that is. 

“Well, after seeing you two the other week I’d say he might have a crush on you,” Noah smirked, “I don’t blame him.”

You almost choked on your drink, holding back laughter.

“A crush? What are we, seven?” You scoffed, “I don’t see him like that at all, he's just a good friend.”

“Vinny please! Fuck, you’re the only thing on my mind when I’m with Noah, there's nothing between us… Not when this is all I think about!”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks, your words only egging him on as he lifts your legs over his shoulder, his cock hitting deeper than it ever had. He looked even more beautiful like this, the sweat beading on his forehead, the hair hanging over his eyes as he leaned down, his lips attaching to your neck, “I bet you wanna moan my name too… Oh what would he do if he ever found out you're my pretty whore, sweetheart.” 

You tried to push away the thoughts that came flooding back from last night, you also tried to stop thinking about Vinny so much as you were with Noah tonight. Between the silence on the drive home and the way he spoke to you in his hotel room, you realised your feelings towards him probably weren't as reciprocated as you were led to believe.

“Hey it’s your birthday next month, right?” Noah asked, noticing how you had gone silent.

“Yep,” you smiled, “I’m not telling you the date though. I don’t want anyone making a fuss, and Bry knows how I’d feel if he ever told anyone.”

“Okay,” Noah chuckles, “I was just asking.”

“There you guys are!” You heard Folio before you spotted him, with Matt, Jolly, Nicholas and Bryan. 

“So... When does karaoke start?” Jolly asked, clapping his hands together, noticing how nobody was singing yet. 

“I’m pretty sure it’s already started-”

“Since when? You could’ve told me, Noah!” You gasped, smiling at Jolly as you took his hand, “Can we do a duet?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” 

"We're gonna play 8-ball, we'll watch from over there!" Folio called out as you and Jolly walked up to the makeshift stage.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“What’s the sense in sharing, this one and only life.” You sang into the microphone, getting caught up in the energy with a wide smile on your face as you looked over at Jolly, who was reading the words off of the screen.

“Ending up just another lost and only wife.” Jolly sang, “You count up the years.”

“And they will be filled with tears” You sang together. 

“Love only breaks up to start over again!”

“You’ll get the baby, but you won’t have your man…” Jolly seemed to be a little off, you chuckled to yourself as you assumed he didn’t know the song too well. 

“While he is busy loving every woman that he can… Uh huh!” 

This was easily the most fun you’ve had the whole tour, as you were catching your breath you spot Matt leaving the guys and making his way over to the two of you, looking ready to join in. 

“Young hearts run free! They’ll never be hung up, hung up like my man and me!” The three of you sang, Matt leaned towards you to share the mic, as s couple people in the bar cheered for all of you, and you saw Noah singing along with a grin on his face. 

As you three continued to sing the rest of the song, you kept motioning for Noah to join in, or one of the other guys, but they all shook their head- even Folio which surprised you the most. 

When the song ended, you noticed no one else was eager to get up next and sing, so you took a sip of your drink and promised the small "audience" an encore. You scanned the song list, hoping to pick one you knew Noah would join you in.

Then you saw it, the perfect song. You turned to Noah, watching his expression change as the music started.

“Come on, Noah!” you smiled, “Just this one?”

His smile was slow but inevitable, though he shook his head, looking down at the ground. Anyone watching would have thought he was a little embarrassed. A faint blush coloured his cheeks as you pouted, calling out again.

“Please!” You pleaded, “...Do it for Cher!”

Somehow, whatever you did managed to convince him and he said whispered something to Nicholas before slipping his phone in his pocket and began walking over to you. As he approached, you noticed how good he looked tonight, even in a simple pair of black joggers and a matching t-shirt. Maybe it was his hair, he’d clearly styled it differently tonight. It was growing out again, and you couldn’t help but hope he’d let it keep growing.

“No matter how hard I try… You keep pushing me aside and I can’t break through! There’s no talking to you…” You bobbed along to the music as you sang, a wide grin on your face as Noah picked up the other microphone.

“It’s so sad that you’re leaving,” he joined in, “It takes time to believe it, but after all is said and done, you’re gonna be the lonely one.”

“Do you believe in life after love.”

“I can feel something inside me say…”

“I really don’t think you’re strong enough!”

“Do you believe in life after love!”

Noah knew the song so much better than you, which didn’t surprise you at all. You thought back to the night by his pool when he told you about his love for Cher, explaining how a fan had gifted him the Cher shirt he wore all the time.

“I don’t need you anymore!” Noah sang, trying not to laugh.

“No, I don’t need you anymore!” You matched his energy, grinning.

After the song ended, you both bowed dramatically to the small handful of people in the bar who were enjoying the show you were putting on. You couldn’t help but smile contently as Noah threw his arm around your shoulder, walking back to the guys. You noticed Folio raised an eyebrow.

“Who knew you could sing like that?” Noah chuckled, taking a sip of his drink as you both sat down opposite the pool table, it was currently Ruffilo's turn.

“Yeah well compared to you-”

“Well, if you two are gonna keep flirting, me and Bryan want to see if they have 'don't stop believing'.” Folio announced with a grin.

“We're not-”

“It’s okay,” Noah patted your knee, “He’s not wrong is he.” He smirked, and you hid your smile as you took a sip of your drink, finishing yet another margarita.

"So, y/n," Bryan cleared his throat, "How was your weekend?"

"Why does everyone keep asking?" The words left your mouth quicker than you intended, sharper than you meant for them to be. "It was fine."

"Did something happen?" Jolly asked after a moment of silence, concern in his eyes as he noticed how the question clearly pissed you off.

It only pissed you off because it reminded you of him.

"Oh, no not at all!" You shake your head, "It was fun, I just, uh, everyone keeps asking me but I was just there to take pictures. I was working." You said, almost trying to convince yourself.

"What do you think about Vin?" Bryan asked, "I didn't realise you guys were even friends."

It was as if the guys all shared one single braincell between them.

"That's because I wasn't there as his friend, Bry," You were so thankful the only two of the guys who knew about your situation with Vinny weren't here at this moment, "I think he's a great guy, we're good friends but his parents specifically asked if I could come because they wanted a photographer."

"But, wait isn't his sister a-"

“Oh my God they’re really doing it,” Nicholas laughed, pointing over at Nick and Matt, “And they’ve only had one beer!” 

“Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world! She took the midnight train going anywhere!” Folio sang and you tried to contain your laughter, he looked so happy to be up there, bless him. 

“Just a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit… He took the midnight train going anywhere!” Matt sang, nodding his head as he read the lyrics off the screen. 

You couldn’t help but crack up at Nick’s air guitaring, followed by the way Matt looked so passionately at him as they sang together. 

However, your attention was drawn back as Noah’s phone started to ring. But, to your surprised, he took one look at the contact which happened to be ‘Toby (Sumerian)’ and he didn't hesitate as he flipped his phone over. 

“Weren’t you supposed to answer that?” You asked, and he thought for a moment before shaking his head. 

“No, not tonight,” he sneakily wrapped an arm around you as you felt his hand rest on your waist, “I’m here having a night off with my friends, with you.” 

He kissed your forehead, and suddenly your cheeks were hot, a rush of warmth spread through you. It had been so long since you’d felt like this with Noah, so long since the Noah you’d fallen for had shown up. But tonight, it was like he had come back.

You noticed Nicholas giving you two the side eye, his lips curling up into a teasing smirk, but you chose to ignore this. 

As Nick and Matt finished their song, you had an idea that you knew the guys would hate you for, but one which would be quite funny. You would need to sneak away from them- maybe pretend to go the bathroom. You wouldn't do it yet, you'd wait a little while first, maybe have a couple more drinks first.

"Wow," was all you could say as Matt and Folio returned, "We need your guys' vocals on the next album!"

"I've been saying that for years, y/n. They just won't listen." Folio sighed dramatically, "Anyone want another drink?"

"Please." You smiled, the rest of the guys shook their heads in response, their glasses still full.

You checked your phone again, still no text from Vinny. You wondered if you should text first, but held yourself back.

"So," you put your phone back down and look up at Noah, "What did you get up to whilst I was gone?"

"Not much..." He thinks for a moment, and you noticed he gave Bryan a look before saying, "Me and Matt went to the gym... Uh, yeah that's pretty much it."

You watched as Nick returned with drinks for him and yourself, placing yours down on the table before he sat down with his.

"Well, I went fishing and caught a..." Folio lost you as he began explaining the fish he caught, how he had never caught one of them before and how rare it is. You just smile and nodded your head, it was quite wholesome to hear him talk so passionately about his hobby.

"That's so cool!" You smiled, despite not understanding a word he said.

The guys all talked, and you occasionally joined in, but as you finished your drink you thought now would be the perfect time to execute your plan.

"I need to pee." You said to Noah, "Can you look after my stuff?"

"Of course." He smiled, and you got up from your seat and headed to the bathroom.

However, as you returned, instead of going back to the group, you made a beeline to the karaoke stage. A couple of young girls were belting out a song when you approached, and you patiently waited and cheered for them as they finished. As you searched for the next song, you could feel the anticipation building inside you, this was your moment.

You were almost certain they wouldn't have this song, and you were right, but you knew all the words so all you needed was the backing track and you were good to go. 

As the music began to play out of the speaker, you felt the familiar rush of adrenaline mix with the alcohol in your veins, making you giddy with excitement. Your smile was wide, and you couldn’t suppress it as you picked up the mic. You glanced over at the guys, who had no idea what was coming. They were all busy talking, unaware that you were about to take them by surprise.

“I’m not afraid of the war I’ve come to wage against my sins…” 

Their reactions were priceless. You couldn't contain your laughter as you saw the pure terror on Noah’s face, the way Folio's smile quickly faded, Ruffilo's eyes widening in fear and the way Matt, Bryan and Jolly all burst out laughing. 

“I’m not okay… But I can try my best to just pretend, so will you wait me out? Or will you drown me out… So will you wait me out…" You began to really feel the music, bouncing up and down as you sang, "Or will you drown me out?! I can wait for you at the bottom! I can stay away if you want me- Noah what are you doing?” You giggle as he takes the microphone from you, cutting the music and beginning to lead you away from the stage.

“You’re drunk,” he chuckled, “C’mon it’s probably time we leave now.” 

“But I didn’t thank them!” You pouted as he puts his hoodie that he brought with him over your head, letting you slip your arms in.

“Thank who?”

“My audience.” 

“You mean the two old guys eyeing you up?”

“Exactly!” You giggled, feeling Noah’s arm wrap around you as he walked back to the guys. 

“I think I’ll get y/n to bed and make sure she has some water. See you tomorrow guys.” He chuckles, collecting your things as you wave to the guys.

The group gave their goodbyes, and Noah led you out of the bar, his arm protectively wrapped around you as you stumbled slightly, leaning into him for support. The cool night air hit your face, and you smiled up at Noah, feeling an odd sense of calm settle over you.

“I’ve had a lot of fun tonight, Noah.” You tell him, holding onto his arm as you walk together. 

“Yeah? Me too, I’ve actually been able to switch off from work for the night, and I don’t think I’ve done karaoke in about 10 years!” 

“You do karaoke every other night on tour!” You laugh, “Have I ever told you how much I love your voice?”

“Uh…” Noah thinks, “No I don’t think so.” 

“I fucking love your voice...” Your words slur as you mumble, “You’re unreal!” 

“Well, thank you,” he grinned, clearly entertained by your drunken honesty. “And your rendition of Cher? It was... unique.”

“Hey we could be Sonny and Cher for halloween!” 

“Really? I’d rather not spend my birthday with a moustache.”

“You’d look hot with a moustache!” You blurted out, without any hesitation.

“I’ll have to disagree with you there, angel.” He laughed.

“Yeah me too.... you always look fucking hot.”

Noah couldn’t help but chuckle at how open you were being right now, but they do say drunk words are sober thoughts. 

“And you always look beautiful.”

Your steps faltered for a moment, and you suddenly stopped walking, catching his gaze under the streetlight. His words seemed to hang in the air between you.

“Really?”

“Why would I lie?” He says, “Y'know, you always look best in the morning when we have to rush you out of your room on to the bus, , the messy hair, old stained pjs, grandma slippers-”

“Bastard!” You smack his chest, “I value my comfort over anything, thank you.” 

“And that's what I love about you y/n… You just don’t care. You’re real, and that’s something that’s so rare to come by these days. That's part of the reason why I gave up on dating," He confesses, "But then you came along again, I've always wanted to get to know you better since the time we first met, it was my idea for you to join us on this tour-”

“Really?” You ask once more, feeling a lump in the back of your throat at his words, “Noah I-”

“I wasn’t finished,” he chuckles, pressing a finger to your lips to silence you, “I was worried whilst you were away with Vin this weekend-” 

“Fuck Vinny!” You spat out, the anger suddenly flaring up in your chest. But he shook his head, cutting you off.

“My point is,” he said, taking a deep breath, “I don’t want to hide anymore. If you think we have something real, I think we should give it a shot... I know I shouldn’t be telling you this now, because you’ll probably forget everything by the morning, but I can’t keep pretending like this. I don’t know how much longer I can go without you, y/n. I feel terrible about the way I’ve been acting lately. I never realise how much I hurt people until it’s too late, and you’re the last person I ever want to hurt.”

You were stunned, unable to find the words to respond. His sincerity hit you like a wave, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to disappear.

You suddenly reached up, pulling him down to your level, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was unexpected, but it felt right, and for a few seconds, the chaos of everything else faded away.

When you pulled away, your breath coming in shallow gasps, you suddenly turned, feeling a wave of nausea hit you.

“Y/n are you okay?” He asked, rubbing his hand on your back as you bent over. 

“No… I think I’m gonna be sick…” You whispered, feeling his hands move to hold your hair back. 

“Think you can wait until we get back to the hotel?” He asks softly. 

“Maybe…” You breathe in and out slowly, “Just don’t make me walk too fast.”

That’s okay,” he chuckled, his arm steadying you. “Let’s go and get you to bed.”

"Yeah..."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“C’mon,” Noah says as he pushes your door open, “Let’s get you ready for bed.”

“I’m so tired.” You mumble, sitting on the edge of your bed, barely able to keep your eyes open.  

“I know, baby,” he murmurs, crouching down in front of you with a soft pout. He carefully slips your shoes off, his touch surprisingly tender. “But trust me, you’ll feel so much better in the morning if you let me take care of you tonight.”

“Okay…” You sigh, trying to keep your eyes open as he searches your room for your pyjamas. 

“Can you dress yourself?” He asked, setting the tshirt and shorts down next to you on your bed. 

“Can you help me?” You asked, picking the shirt up to find it’s inside out. 

Noah smiles gently.

“Of course,” he says, taking the shirt from your hand and flipping it the right way around before helping you out of your clothes. His hands are steady and he remains respectful as he slips his fingers under the hem of your shirt, lifting it carefully. There’s a quiet intensity to the way he helps you, his gaze never straying from your face as he helps you step out of your jeans.

You don’t mind the intimacy of the moment. It felt strangely comforting.

When you’re in nothing but your underwear, he picks up the band t-shirt you’ve stolen from Bryan all those years ago. He pulls it over your head with a soft chuckle as you mutter nonsense.

Once you were dressed, he led you to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. You couldn’t help but giggle as he sat you on the toilet and tied your back, pumping some of your cleanser onto his hands and carefully massaging it into your face. 

“Since when were you into skincare?” You smiled.

“...How’d you know?” He questions.

“You knew what the cleanser was for.” He chuckles as he runs a cloth under warm water and begins wiping it off your face. 

“Maybe I like to take care of my skin too.”

“I love your skin.” You mumble, getting up and reaching for your toothbrush. 

As you got into your bed, Noah grabbed a bottle of water from the mini bar and handed it to you, telling you to have at least three sips before going to sleep. 

“Thank you, Noah.” You smile as you pulled the covers over you, getting comfy as you let your eyes shut. 

“For what?” He chuckled, fixing a strand of hair that had fallen over your eyes. 

“Tonight… It’s been fun…" You mumble as your eyes fall shut, "Even if you did have to look after me…”

“It’s not like I haven’t done it before, angel.” He smiled, noticing how peaceful you looked as you fell asleep, “Sweet dreams.”

As he moved to get up from his place beside you on your bed, he heard your phone vibrate from it’s place on the nightstand.  He knew he shouldn’t, but he looked over anyway in case it was something important, but he furrowed his eyebrows as he looked and saw it was a text.

From Vinny?

-------------------------

@rumoured-whispers @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lma1986 @thisbicc @dominuslunae @miss570 @miamore0570 @jilliemiw86 @itsyaboinoah @kait16xo @discocowgirly

[chandelier-s-notebook]

Hey, so I started writing a Landoscar 5+1 which...didn't even spiral outwardly that badly, but I hate it. I hate it enough that I never want to look at it again, and I think that if I put it down, I will never pick it back up. And both desperately want to put it down, and don't believe in continually ramming your head into the wall if something isn't working. So, into the fic graveyard it goes.

But! Instead of tossing it in the trash, never to be seen again, I am posting it here to Tumblr. Maybe someone can enjoy it.

It's supposed to be Landoscar, but it takes Lando 1800 of those prose words to show up. What's happening in that first 1.8k? Charles adopting Oscar. Alex and George are also here. Max exists, and Lando is a biter.

The whole 5+1 part is outlined, it's five different things Lando calls Oscar in a College!AU and one time Oscar gives him a nickname back. The bones are all there, but...

*ahem*

I present to you: 2.3k of pose and 1.1k of outline.

Have an experience.

[INSERT TITLE HERE]

Oscar Piastri is a regular engineering major university shut in by the time Winter semester rolls around in his first year of university.

He has one friend—Logan, his roommate, who he’d met all the way back in middle school—two different incompetent lab groups, a class with four midterms and a final, 18 hours of lecture a week, a never ending stream of assignments, a healthy addition to Monster Energy™, and three humanities he has to take if he wants to graduate at all.

Oscar is taking a 300-level Principles of Marketing—he figures it will be useful enough—when he meets Charles Leclerc.

And that's when his life starts to change.

— — —

Charles is a business major, and Charles happens to be sitting next to Oscar when Professor Vettel—”But please call me Sebastain, or even Seb,”—asks them to introduce themselves to the person sitting next to them.

“Oscar Piastri. I’m in engineering, mechanical, first year.”

“Ah. So you are here for the credit, then? I am Charles Leclerc, second year.”

The name pings some level of familiarity deep in the back of his brain, but it’s not enough of a connection for him to follow it down any sort of rabbit hole. “Pretty much, but I have to keep my GPA up to keep my scholarship, so I’m not planning on being completely useless.”

“Good,” Charles smiles. “Because this introduction thing is how Seb likes to assign groups of the term.”

Oscar feels like a bucket of water has been dumped on his head. “What?”

“I know. It is weird, but all of the professors here are. I hope we work well together. When I was in Intro to Marketing, I was stuck with George. George is nice, but he is very intense about the wrong things sometimes. We did not work well together.”

“This class is going to be, like, last on my list of priorities,” Oscar feels the need to tell him.

But Charles just smiles again. “I figured, since you said you are an engineer. That is okay. At least I know what I am in for from the start. We will meet once a week, yes? So we have a dedicated time to work on this class, and you can ignore it the rest of the time?”

Oscar starts to protest, but a clap sounds from the front of the room. “Well. I hope you like the person sitting next to you,” Professor Vettel, Sebastian, Seb says. “Because this is who you will be working with for the rest of the semester! I’ll give you five minutes to exchange contact information, and then we’ll get started!”

Charles winks at him; he’s bad at it. “See?”

Oscar forks over his number, and pencils in a weekly Wednesday evening library session with Charles Leclerc.

— — —

Wednesday evening quickly becomes Oscar’s favourite time of the week.

For two hours he can shut off his brain, ignore all of his coursework, and just hangout with Charles Leclerc. At least it feels like they’re just hanging out, because what’s actually happening is Charles is explaining to Oscar what the fuck he’s doing for their joint assignments that Oscar feels a little bit bad about putting his name on.

“It’s okay,” Charles assures him. “Seb’s husband is one of the engineering profs. He knows which people in his class are eng students, and how much they’ve got on their plates.”

“Which one?”

“Not telling.”

“Rude!”

“Besides, you’re doing quality control.”

“I don’t know what quality I am controlling, is the issue.”

“That is okay.”

“Is it? I’m going to fail the final at this rate.”

“No you aren’t.”

Oscar flops down onto the table. “Yes I am.”

“Because it is a term project.”

He looks up. “I’m not letting you do an entire term project on your own.”

“Of course you are not. We need to build a product website. I cannot code, and I know that coding is a requirement to graduate, so I will make the design document, and you will code.”

“Okay,” he says, small. “I don’t want to drag your grade down because I don’t know what’s going on in this course.”

“You won’t. I won’t let you,” Charles tells him. “You understand the lectures, non?”

“Yeah. And I’m acing the theory quizzes.”

Charles grins. “See? You are doing very well.”

Oscar smiles. “Okay, but what goes in a design document?”

— — —

“Charles, I know I have to be the one to do the presentation, but I can’t. I’m going to sound so stupid standing up there reading off these cards.”

“You are not going to sound stupid. That is why we are practicing.”

“You’re biased. You need to tell me I’m going well so I stay calm.”

“Are you not calm?” Charles asks, tilting his head.

“I am not calm.”

“This is you not calm?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm. I cannot tell. Which is good, because then no one will be able to see if you start to panic. The audience is like a snark.”

“Not helpful!”

“Right.” Charles taps his chin with this index finger. “I know! I will get George.”

“George?”

“Yes!” The upperclassman pulls out his phone. “If you can present to George, you can present to anybody.”

“I thought you didn’t like George?”

“I don’t like working with George. He is judgy.”

“And you want me to present in front of him?”

“Oui. He will stay quiet until you are done.”

“I hate this.”

“You told me you would.”

George is apparently George Russell, the man Oscar’s Solid Mechanics TA, Max Verstappen, loves to draw into pointless arguments. He brings his friend Alexander “Alex” Albon—wildlife biology major. They are both very good at quietly listening to him fumble, while keeping their expressions carefully blank.

At least George is. Alex is smiling at him in a way he knows is supposed to be comforting, but all it’s doing is making him more aware of tightness in his chest.

“And that’s that.” Oscar claps his hands together, and immediately regrets it.

Charles applauds and cheers like he’s just won a race or something.

Alex claps as well.

George turns to Charles. “You’ve adopted an engineer.”

“Maybe,” Charles grins. “You can barely tell.”

“It’s obvious.”

“No it’s not,” Charles turns to assure Oscar. “Barely. If you weren’t you, you couldn’t tell.”

“I mean it’s not really far, because I’ve seen him in Max’s office.”

Charles looks absolutely betrayed when his gaze whips towards him. “Why are you in Max’s office?”

“For help?”

Charles narrows his eyes.

“He’s my TA; solid mech.”

“Who do you like more?”

“Huh?”

“Me and Max. Who do you like more?”

Oscar’s eyes dart to Alex’s for a little help. There’s not much he can do, but he does manage to convey that this answer is apparently very important.

Oscar has never considered Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen against each other. They aren’t exactly in the same category of people in his mind.

“You?”

“More confidence.”

“You.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” Charles sits back in his seat. “Do it again. Do you have a suit? You will wear a suit to this presentation.”

Oscar is only a little scared.

“Does Max like Oscar?” Charles asks George while they all go about packing their bags at the end of the session.

“I’d say so. You know how he pretends to be professional with the underclassmen, but when it’s just Oscar in the room he’s right back to his usual state of no decorum.”

Charles hums. “Do you do anything on Fridays, Oscar? Friday evenings?”

“Cry? All of my assignments are due Friday.”

“So you stay up all night doing them?”

“No, that's Thursday. I fix everything Friday morning, so that I’ve got time to cry in the evening before I start next week’s assignments on Saturday.”

Alex snorts. “Nice.”

“You are coming for drinks,” Charlest tells him. “Crying with friends is better than crying alone. I will come pick you up. Give me your address.” He holds out his phone in front of Oscar’s nose.

Oscar’s eyes dart back to Alex’s. The man looks just as befuddled as he feels, but honestly: Oscar would like more than one friend.

“Will I have to pay?” he asks.

“Non. If I tell you you have to pay you will come up with excuses to not come. I will pay. You have a class that ends at five thirty, non?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect. Then I will be there at six thirty. That will give you an hour to get home, and do whatever introvert things you need to do before we go out.”

At Oscar’s expression Alex tells him, “We also always meet up at seven.”

Which is good, because Oscar was about to tell Charles that they shouldn’t change their whole schedule for him.

— — —

Oscar’s shirt is only halfway on when there’s a knock at his door.

“In a minute!”

“I’ve got it!” Logan calls.

The door opens.

“Who are you?” he demands.

“You are not Oscar.”

“No. I’m not. Who are you?”

“Charles!” Oscar gasps, running out of his room. “Logan, this is Charles. He’s my Marketing partner. Charles, this is Logan, he’s my roommate.”

“You never mentioned a roommate.”

“Never came up,” he says, bending down to tie his shoelaces.

“I told you about my roommates!” Charles cries.

“You complained about your roommate to me,” he corrects.

Logan laughs. “Dude, you’re supposed to share horror stories when that happens.”

Oscar furrows his brows. “But I don’t have horror stories.”

“Oscar.”

“Yes?”

“Your roommate answered the door eating cereal out of a frying pan.”

Oscar turns to look.

Logan shrugs.

“Have you heard of bowls?” Charles shrieks.

“American,” he grins.

Oscar huffs. “He’s joking,” he assures Charles while grabbing his coat. “We’ve run out of bowls. Logan was supposed to do the dishes tonight.”

The man in question clicks his tongue, and shoots Charles with a finger gun. “Are you going out?”

“Yeah. I’ll be back…when will I be back?”

“Two?”

“I’m not making it to two. I’ll be back at ten.”

“Text me. I’m staying in.”

“Cool.” Oscar throws him a thumbs up. “Shall we? Who’s going to be there, by the way?”

“George, Alex, Pierre, Esteban, Yuki, Liam, Lando, and Max is not coming.”

“Pierre is your roommate?”

“Oui.”

When Oscar gets to the pub, he is immediately reminded why he’s bad at making friends.

While everybody else introduced themselves with their first names only, Oscar had said: “Oscar Piastri.”

Full name, full confidence.

Which was his only saving grace: the confidence. His face didn’t even scrunch up in displeasure.

“Nice to meet you Oscar Piastri!” Lando says.

“Just Oscar is fine.”

“But your name is Oscar Piastri.”

“Oh my god Lando,” Alex laughs. “Ignore him. He bites, but he’s harmless.”

“I thought the saying goes ‘he doesn’t bite,’ right?”

“Yeah,” George shrugs. “But Lando does bite. Literally. He’s a bit feral, but he’s good the first hour.”

Charles pats Oscar’s shoulder. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“You’re all making me sound like a dog. I’m not a pet!”

“I think it’d be nice to be a pet dog. No solid mech homework.”

“Is that what we’re crying about tonight?” Alex asks.

“Yep.”

Lando’s eyes light up. “You schedule your crying?”

“I’m in mech eng.”

“Oh Oscar Piastri, I’m so sorry.”

George groans. “Just call him Oscar.”

“No.”

Oscar laughs. He doesn’t really mind. It’s very clear that he’s just teasing. Besides, Oscar likes the way Lando says his full name: Oscar Piastri. It rolls off his tongue like it’s a single entity.

— — —

The presentation goes well, all things considered, and Oscar even manages to actually answer some of the audience questions without looking at Charles in panic first.

It’s a miracle.

“Good job!” Charles says, clapping his shoulder as they go back to their seats. “That was great. I’m so proud of you.”

Oscar blushes. “Stop. I feel like you’re about to give me a gold star or something.”

“I could. Do you want one?” Charles asks, way too earnestly for Oscar’s taste. “I carry some around with me. We give them to Lando when he does a good job.”

“First you tell me he bites, then you tell me you give him treats, are you sure he’s not the friend group’s dog or something.”

Charles grins. “Don’t let his whining confuse you, he likes it. He has a little sticker booklet, so if you are going to give him one you have to give it to him, because you put it on him it won’t be sticky anymore and it will be difficult to keep in the booklet.”

“Oh my god.”

“Would you like one?”

“I don’t have a booklet.”

“That is okay. You can put it on your laptop. They are die cut vinyl; very good quality.”

“Wow. Yeah I’ll have one.”

Oscar’s laptop is now the proud wearer of a smiling cartoon golden star sticker.

It’s silly, but he loves it.

— — —

At six thirty sharp every Friday, Charles Leclerc is at his door ready to drag him off to the pub with his friends who are all slowly, but surely, also being Oscar’s friends.

He jumps when all he gets is a loud “OSCAR!” before Lando is barrelling into his side, almost sending him sprawling just outside of the peb entrance.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Oscar is not not bracing for a bite.

Not because he wants Lando to bite him, but because he likes to think they’re friends, and apparently Lando bites his friends.

Or maybe they just told that to Oscar to scare him, and take the mick out of Lando in a single blow.

“Ah! Lando!” Alex cries. “You pest. Give me warning! You can’t just bite people.”

“I gave you a whole four seconds after arriving,” Lando pouts. “That’s plenty of warning. Not my fault you ignored it.”

“Say something,” Alex pleads, rubbing his shoulder. “You’ve gotten better at biting lightly, thank you.”

Lando brightens. “You’re welcome!” He turns to George. “George, I’m going to bite you.”

“Oh I don’t like that,” Alex says. “That’s so ominous. Nevermind. Don’t say anything. But like, tap me or something.”

Lando whacks George’s shoulder, and then with a “hwam” he clamps his teeth around the other man’s shoulder.

Oscar isn’t sure if he should be watching with horror or fascination.

Oscar jumps about twelve feet in the air when he hears a loud “OSCAR” shouted across the quad

Lando.

The biter.

Who didn’t bite anybody last time they were out

But they’ve known each other for longer than an hour, so he’s a little bit worried

Because Charles doesn’t tend to lie to him.

Lando throws himself into Oscar’s side

“Where are you going?”

“Physics Building.”

“Ugh. Why?”

“Solid Mech. Need to talk to my TA.”

“Terrible. I think. Max likes Solid Mech, but Max is a freak.”

“Verstappen?”

“Yep! Do you know him?”

“He’s my TA.”

“For Solid Mech?”

“Yup.”

“Of course he is. He was probably grading your assignments, that’s why he didn’t come out last night.”

Oscar pales. “You’re friends with my TA?”

“Yup! He’s a freak, but he’s cool.”

“If he’s a freak, what are you? I’m waiting for you to bite me.”

Lando pauses. “Do you want me to bite you, Oscar?”

“I was told you bite your friends.”

“Are we friends?”

“I dunno. Don’t have many of those.”

“Well we’ve got to fix that.”

Suddenly Lando is being scruffed.

“Lando. Why are you about to bite my favourite student?”

“We’re friends now. Charles brought him to the pub.”

“Ah.”

“Stop giving Oscar so many assignments. Cause then he’ll be less stressed, and you’ll be able to hangout more!”

“Not how that works. If I let you go, are you going to bite him?”

“He literally asked for it.”

“I did.”

Max sighs. “I see why Charles took you in. Were you having trouble with the assignment?”

“The indeterminate structures are doing my head in again.”

“The what?”

Max hauls Lando into his office. “Come in, you. You’re going to be Oscar’s rubber duck.”

“What?” he squawks. “Oscar! Max just called me dumb!”

Oscar feels warm.

He has a friend.

— — —

Lando loosens up a bit more and stops pronouncing the r in his name. It shouldn’t affect him as much as it does, but it practically kills Oscar.

Lando is an arts major, graphic design and photography

He sits with Oscar while he works on his assignments

Well, Lando is usually drawing or editing pictures

To Oscar it feels like not working, but Lando assures him that he is actually working

“Oscah. I’m bored.”

“I’m busy.”

“I knoooooooow. Can I take pictures of you?”

“What?”

“Pictures? With my camera? I need to practice my human portraits stuff. Framing and shit. And how to deal with natural lighting. The lighting in here is shit, mate.”

Oscar glances at him.

“I’ll be taking candid shots. Like you in your natural habitat. So I won’t even be talking. I’ll shut up!”

“Why is that a selling point?”

“Because you’re trying to work? I can be considerate.”

Oscar smiles. “Go for it. Might be a bit awkward though.”

“I’ve got you Oscah. I’ll make you look cool even without dynamic lighting.”

“I hate dynamics.”

— — —

Osc is not made for the pub despite being an engineer

“We are we are we are we are We are the engineers We can we can we can we can We can demolish forty beers So come so come so come so come So come along with us For we don't give a damn for any damn man who don't give a damn for us”

Oscar has been drinking water for the past three pubs on this crawl

He runs into Max at some point

Max, who decides that it’s time to save him, and Oscar is being dragged into a booth with Charles and his friends.

“Do you think those guys are going to notice you are gone?”

“Maybe? Probably. I’ve been Logan’s introvert all night. He’ll go looking for me before everybody leaves.”

Charles gets him another water.

Oscar starts asking questions about the torsion unit.

Max laughs, and they are doing office hours again.

“There you are! Man, I thought I’d lost you for good. You good, man?”

“Yeah! There is Charles.” He points.

Logan grins and shakes his hand. “Hey. Oscar’s roommate.”

“The messy one who eats cereal out of the frying pan?”

Logan laughs, everybody laughs. “Yeah. That’s me. We’re headed off to the next pub…”

Lando wraps his arms around Oscar’s torso and clings. “Nope. Osc is ours now. We’re keeping him. You have fun on your crawl.”

“Osc?” Lando jolts back. His face is suddenly stricken with a worried expression. “Is that okay? Can I call you that?”

“Of course it’s okay,” Logan tells him when Oscar starts floundering. “Use protection!” he calls over his shoulder. “I’m staying at Liam’s!”

— — —

Lando comes over and finds out that Logan calls Oscar Osc and has for years.

He gets very pouty

“Just give him your own nickname,” Logan says in between bites of cereal.

“Do you not own bowls?”

“There are two left. Figured you would want one? And Oscar has some dignity left, so frying pan for me.”

“Osco, your roommate hurts me.”

“Osco?”

“I’ve decided on it.”

“Okay.”

“But seriously, what is wrong with your roommate?”

“American.”

“Bro.”

“He just called you bro.” Lando claps. “I’ve never heard someone do that in real life.”

Oscar sighs.

— — —

Charles: Who is your favourite?

Oscar *panicking*: Lando

Charles *waves him away*: Obviously. Between me and Max. Who is your favourite?

Oscar *deer in headlines*: Lando

Lando: *cackles*

Max: Remember, I grade your assignments. Actually, I am grading your midterm right now.

Oscar: How am I doing?

Max: Who is your favourite?

Oscar: *pales*

Charles: I do your assignments. I will not put your name on it.

George: That’s not going to work. Seb knows you well enough to know that Oscar hasn’t done any work all semester, and that you’re being petty.

Charles: And when Seb calls me for a meeting I will tell him how Oscar has been terrible to me, and does not deserve to coast off my work.

Oscar *panicking*: I need this class.

Charles *mouthing*: I’m joking.

Max: I’ll tell Mark that Oscar chose me over you, and he’ll tell Seb. Who’s Seb going to believe? You? Or a story that sounds exactly like something you would do?”

Charles: *pouts*

Oscar: Lando.

Lando: Say George. It’ll piss them both off.

Oscar: Alex.

George: Oi!

Alex: Don’t bring me into this!

Charles: It’s me, right?

Oscar: Yes?

Charles: With confidence.

Oscar: Yes.

Oscar is not a nickname guy.

But Lando clearly is

Charles drags Oscar to movie night in his dorm.

Lando gets up to stretch mid-action scene

“Anybody want anything? I’m gonna refill the popcorn.”

A chorus of nos from everybody in the room, but then Oscar finishes his drink.

“Hey, Lan, actually could you get me a Monster?”

Lando freezes.

He practically trips as he runs.

He throws himself on the couch

And bite

“Ow!”

“We warned you!”

“I let my guard down. It’s been weeks.”

[mickriccenergy]

Shiver

Chapter Six - You’re All I’ve Ever Known

♡ Mick Schumacher x Reader, Best friend!Danny Ricc x reader

♡ TW: Swearing, inaccurate timeline of F1/F2/F3, badly translated German using Google, blood/injuries (not graphic, but there is are mentions of it!), i forgot how many days elapsed between scenes bc i wrote this in like two days. so ya know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. INACCURATE DESCRIPTIONS OF ENGLAND???? I literally made up street names and i think a school, so don’t come for me. I’m just a girl. plus i’m american so like we already have enough on our plates. Ummm slight kidnapping vibes??? very inaccurate and probably wrong medical talk.

♡ She/Her pronouns are used, nothing descriptive about reader except that her hair is long enough to pull back into a ponytail or braid, no reader insert, timeline skips. ALSO: WARNING!!!! I will barely be mentioning Michael Schumacher. I do not presume to know what he is thinking, or would say in these fictional scenarios. I am trying to be respectful of their privacy and not make any assumptions!!!!!! He will be mentioned here and there, but I do not believe any dialogue will be associated with him. If you do not like that, then do not read it. :)

♡ 6.3k words

♡A/N: Again, posting this on mobile and will format it when i get back from work! sorry it’s a day late. yesterday was very bad lol ok love u bye

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

It seemed like there was never going to be an end to the poking, the prodding, and testing on your body. Everyday, there was to be a new test or a repeat of an old one to be done. On top of already having been in the hospital for more than two weeks now, your memory was still not coming back to you. Sometimes someone would say something and if it as if your brain knew the memory tied to it, but it couldn’t relay it to your voice fast enough to recollect it. You didn’t know what was worse at this point:

“No, no threes. Go fish.” Your Uncle Sebastian echoed, stopping your train of thought.

Trying to focus your eyes, you looked at the pile of cards in front of you and drew another one.

“Do you… Have any… sixes?”

The four time champion just smiled and slid over some of his cards. You neatly made a pile of your finished “sixes” cards. Moments later, there was a slight knock on the door before it slowly pushed open towards the two of you.

“Hi, Mrs. Schumacher. It’s good to you see you again.”

So here’s the thing - You had been called that many times now. Almost every nurse and doctor has called you that… And since you had no room to counter, you never corrected them. Who knows? Maybe you and Mick actually got married after high school like the two of you talked about. And as weird as it was for you to be called that… It certainly felt right and didn’t make you feel uncomfortable - which of course made things curious and curioser.

“Mrs.… Schumacher??” Sebastian Vettel put his cards down and eyed the nurse and the doctor. There was a look on their faces that you couldn’t quite place.

“So sorry, no,” The doctor began correcting his mistake. He finally addressed you by your first and last name. “I’m sorry, again. Mr. Schumacher is your medical proxy and I forget that those in fact, do not have to be spouses.”

The doctor nervously chuckled as he prepared various medicinal instruments. It would happened two times a day where they’d check your cognitive function and your response to stimuli. Sometimes you’d say things that were a memory, but moments later you forget you said that. You even had times where Mick was in the same room, and you had forgotten who he was so you called him… Pleading for him to come back and comfort you.

He was the only constant in your life.

The doctor and nurses finished their exam and let you get back to your card game. You had no memory of the man who sat across from you, even though he said he was like family to Mick and that he knew you when you were little. He’d tell you stories about his time in Formula One, and how he’s focused on sustainability now and finding new hobbies. You truly were delighted in the presence of this man, but deep down inside you wished that Mick were there.

He had some press releases to do, as his racing came to halt when you crashed out in Silverstone. He was planning on racing the last 5 races as you were getting better now. Well, physically. Your leg was almost ready to be put in a regular soft cast once the rods would be removed. Your arm was out of its cast completely, and it seemed like your ribs and spine were doing okay. It was just your dumb brain that needing fixing.

“You alright?” Soon, Sebastian’s voice pulled you out of your endless thinking. “We can stop, if you’d like. I think you are beating me, anyway.”

Silently, you put down your cards and pushed the tray that was on wheels aside. You didn’t know what was coming over you. You felt an immense sadness and regret, but you didn’t know why. You were lost. Having your memories stripped of you is such a cruel fate… You rather have just not survived.

“I’m not good enough for him.” You plainly stated.

Sebastian blinked a few times as he put down his playing cards as well. He took a deep breath and tried his best to comfort you.

“Why do you say that? He’s been here every day since you crashed.” Sebastian’s tone was cautious, but caring.

“i mean… Look at me? I have rods sticking out of my leg… And I can’t remember shit. It’s pathetic.”

The former F1 didn’t have a response. He couldn’t imagine what you were going through, let alone the both of you. He just gently reassured you with a grasp of his hand on yours. Before you knew it, even his thoughts were halted by someone entering your hospital room.

“Hello, ma’am, I’m Nurse Elsie.” The brunette nurse beamed at you, and took the clipboard off of the end of the bed. “Do you remember who I am?” Her British accent was thick… You couldn’t place from where though.

You paused and did your best to remember someone named Elsie.

“You-You were there when I first woke up… And you were telling me to stay calm…”

The nurse’s expression immediately turned. Complete surprise and bliss overtook her as she grinned at you and Sebastian. She grabbed your hands ever so softly and opened her mouth to speak.

“Yes, that’s correct! I was here the day you came in, and I haven’t left since.” It truly warmed your heart to see someone that hardworking have some sense of relief. “And I am glad you’re speaking English again!”

“Was… I not before?” Your eyebrows furrowed and your focused shifted to Sebastian. He pressed his lips in a tight line, debating if he should answer for you when Mick wasn’t there.

Clearing his throat, he straightened his posture and exhaled.

“When you first woke up, you were only speaking in German. Mick had to translate for you for a while, until you felt comfortable enough to speak English again.” Vettel calmly responds, his hand scratching at the stubble on his jawline. You nodded along while he explained a few more things to you.

About twenty minutes later after another few tests were done, you were absolutely exhausted. You tucked yourself into the hospital bed with one of Mick’s blankets added to the pile for extra warmth. His scent was wearing off of the blanket as you pulled it up to your chin. Mick was familiar to you, and to your feelings - Yet, part of him remained a stranger. He was older, well you both were now.

He was not the shy little school boy anymore, but a confident young man. His muscles had grown noticeably and his hair was long, like you liked it. His jawline had formed into sharp corners where it meets his ears, as opposed to the chubby faced kid who would ride his bike alongside you and hold your hand in crowded places so you wouldn’t get lost. On the other hand and maybe the stronger one at that, you didn’t recognize him at all. Sure, he looked like Mick and sounded like him… But there was a piece missing to the dynamic between the two of you that you couldn’t quite place.

When he would be in the hospital room with you, it was almost as if he was treating you with a fragility that was completely peculiar to the way your foggy memory could recall him treating you. He was always kind and always held a special tenderness for you, that much you could remember… But be that as it may, he was handling you now with a delicate hand - so afraid of breaking you further. You couldn’t tell from where you sat if it was because of your injuries that he was being extra careful around you, or because there was something he wasn’t telling you.

“Knock, Knock.” The familiar voice of another doctor entered your stumbling train of thought as they entered your room. Sebastian stood to greet her and shake her hand.

“How are you feeling today, ma’am?” You shrugged and mumbled something incoherent. “Right then! My name is Doctor Wells. I’m the Chief of Neurology, and have been following your case closely.”

You honestly were having a tough time keeping all these doctors and nurses straight in your head, that you thought adding one more to the list might make you explode. But still - you politely greeted her as you told her your name.

“You’ve been making great progress physically, it seems. Your leg will be moved to a soft cast in two days time, and then in about a month, we’ll x-ray your leg to see when we would take that cast off, but again, it’s looking good.” The doctor smiled as her green eyes scanned the clipboard in front of her.

She began to hum to yourself as she jotted down some notes. You immediately noticed it, and Sebastian immediately noticed you. It was as though you couldn’t breathe all of a sudden and you had no clue as to why. Your monitors began to beep at a rapid rate, while the voices around you were telling you things but you couldn’t hear them. All you could hear was a loud, sharp and lasting ringing in your eyes as you sobbed. Soon, you felt the calming medicine go through your IV and settle your heart rate. It took a few more minutes to gain your bearings.

“Es tut mir Leid (I’m sorry).” You breathed out as you laid back down trying to get comfortable again.

Sebastian excused himself to go make a phone call, assuring you that he’d be back in a few minutes.

“That’s quite alright. Your body has been through a lot these last few weeks.” Dr. Wells smiled at you with an overwhelming aura of reassurance. She took a beat, and pulled up her rolling stool next to your bedside. “May I ask what I did to trigger that reaction? I want to know so I won’t do it again.”

You turned your head to meet her gaze, her eyes filled with worry and sympathy. You tried your best to think about the answer to her question. She could practically hear the gears turning in your head while you attempted to pinpoint what it was that upset you.

“The humming… When you hummed… It… I don’t know - did something to me.” Dr. Wells nodded in response and promise that she wouldn’t do it again. “Can I ask you a question, Dr. Wells?”

“Anything at all.”

You moved your hospital bed up so you could sit up and see the doctor better. You had very little to go on, but what you could go off of confidently was people’s expressions and the way their faces moved when they spoke to you.

“What are my chances of getting my memory back, and if I don’t… What do I do?” In turn, your facial expression was desperate, reeking of hopelessness and despair. She could see the devastation the accident has brought you, as it seeped out of the pores of your skin and infected your surroundings.

“Well, you’re making good progress and you remember Nurse Elsie which is a great sign… And the fact that you still know who Mick is a great sign,” Dr. Wells began slowly. “But, we really won’t know the extent of the damage the crash took, especially in regard to your memory. All your brain scans have thus far been clean, with no cause for concern.”

You started to feel tears brimming in your eyes as you bit your bottom lip to try and stifle back your cries. Shakily, you let out whatever air you had left in your lungs now.

“Sometimes things like this just happen and we don’t know why… But what we do know is that memories can always be created. You may not be able to remember the ones you had previously, but you can always replace them with new ones, better ones even.”

The pair of you talked for a few minutes more about your situation and how best to help it. She gave you some flyers for support groups and some numbers for therapists that specialize in what you were going through. She checked your vitals once more before heading towards the door and exiting, smiling a courteous smile as she disappeared into the vast hospital.

On the rare occasion you were left alone in your room, you liked to write things down in a notebook Mick gave you. It was your favorite color, with a giant ‘MSC47’ sticker on it. You had asked him what that was and he told you it was his racing number. To that, you asked why he didn’t put your racing number… And in response to that, he sheepishly admitted that it slipped his mind to put your number, but he was glad you always had a reminder of him. You didn’t even notice you were reminiscing until you caught yourself stroking the sticker on the front of your notebook. Blinking a few times to clear your mind, you opened it up to the next free page only to see that someone really tried not to write in their typical chicken scratch.

Smidge,

If you are reading this, then I must be away doing some press related things. I wish I did not have to, but duty calls and I also think Toto would come to my house and drag me there himself (in a very nice way, of course). Anyway, I wanted to write you a short note and let you know that I will be back soon, and hopefully you will be coming home after that. I have rented a place out here for you and me that will be sufficient enough until you decide where you want to fully rest and recover. We can go back to your apartment in Italy or to one of my family’s cottages in Switzerland. I would even take you back to the states to find respite at my ranch in Texas, but I know you do not have fond memories of Texas. I want to do only what you are comfortable with, Schätzen.

As for my last few races, I am on the lookout for the best home care nurse I can find while I am away. Sebastian offered, but he has a family and children of his own. When you feel up to it, I would also like your opinion on how you would like your care to be handled when I am at a race. I want you to feel as safe and taken care of as possible. It kills me that I have to go away to participate in the last few races, but part of me is also excited to get back to driving alongside Lewis. We (Mostly I) will dedicate every race to you, Schätzen. Maybe if you are healed and well enough, you may be able to attend the last race of the season. That would be very fun, as I know some of the drivers are dying to see you again.

I cannot think of anything else to write that might ease your mind while I am gone for now. I cannot imagine how difficult it must be to not know anybody there, but I do hope that with Sebastian being there it has calmed some of your nerves. He admires you greatly, and you have always been fond of him. I feel exactly the same way. But you can always text message me or call me, if you need me. I know you are not quite comfortable with that form of communication yet, but I just want you to know that I will always respond and pick up when I see your name pop up on my phone.

Anyway, I am excited and full of anticipation for when I get to lay eyes on the most beautiful woman I have come to know again. Your strength and perseverance through this entire ideal has been something to write in the history books about. I cannot wait to hear your laugh and feel your fingers interlaced with mine. I am looking forward to our days spent on the couch, sharing a blanket, with you tucked underneath my side - where you fit so perfectly beside me as if it were meant to be. And until we see each other again, just know I am thinking of you always and missing you every second of the day.

You hold my heart in your hands.

Ich gehöre für immer dir.

(I am yours forever.)

Love,

Mickey

There were drops of water scattered across the page as you tried to stop yourself from crying again.

You may not know him, but he knows you. And the feeling was overwhelming.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian’s quiet voice came into notice as you looked up at him with tearful eyes. He tilted his head to the side in concern.

“He… Wrote me… He wrote me… This letter… He knew I would find it… He knew this… That I would want to write things down, after the day I had… And he knew I would find his letter…” You spoke in between sobs, your chest falling up and down at a rapid rate.

“Okay, okay. Let’s take a few deep breaths and then we can talk about it, ja?” Sebastian began to initiate some deep breathing, hoping you would follow suit.

After many seconds of doing some deep breathing, you closed your eyes and did your best to relax your body.

“He loves me, doesn’t he?”

Vettel paused, taking his seat beside you.

“Yes. He does.” The German driver answered solemnly.

“And I don’t love him? Isn’t that right?” You glanced around the dry hospital room, smears of bright white and the smell of rubbing alcohol apparent.

“I don’t want him to love me. I don’t deserve it.”

Sebastian Vettel, four time world formula one champion, and one of the most formidable motorsports athletes the world has ever known, was stunned. He remained tight lipped and stoic. In frustration, you threw the notebook onto the floor and put your head in your hands. You weren’t crying, no. But you were exasperated . You could hear beeping as each finger pressed a key in the background. You didn’t know what was what, except what was shown to you: The voice of somebody you used to know.

Sebastian had put the phone on speaker and handed it to you.

“Smidge? Are you okay?”

“Hello? Smidge?”

“Was machst du (What are you doing)?”

“Ich vermisse dich (I miss you).”

Mick’s voice was like the half of you that you didn’t know you needed. It melded perfectly with what you were missing in this dark despair of recent days. His slight German-Swiss accent brought you comfort like you didn’t know you needed. He had picked up the call no matter where he was or what he was doing.

“Komm zurück zu mir (Come back to me).” You could hear Mick let out a strained sigh. He wanted to come back, god did he want to.

“Mickey, please…”

Completely taking you off guard, the line went dead suddenly and you were left with another kind of beeping. You slowly handed the phone back to your almost friend, Sebastian. The former driver could only sigh and sit back in the chair that he had been making his home since Mick left.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Four Days Later

Your leg was finally out of those ghastly rods and into a softer cast. To think this feeling was heavenly, was something you would have never put on your radar thus far. Soon enough though as the many doctors and nurses came by, you were cleared to go home in the next 24 hours.

“We are glad to see you improving Mrs. Schumacher.” You did your best to make eye contact with the receptionist. “Please let us know if you need anything.”

“Thank you…” You started with caution.

“I’m not Mrs. Schumacher though… If you want to change that for your records or anything…” You tried your best to be nonchalant. The receptionist typed a few bits onto the computer in front of her.

Ushering for you to take a seat in the lobby, you tried your best to not think about the past.

Due to a reason unbeknownst to you, Mick was unavailable to take you home when it came to your releases date. You even braved the scary phone long enough to ask Sebastian if he could be there to take you to the new home Mick set up for you. He wished that he could, but evidently he had something to attend to.

Bravery aside, you sat curbside alone trying to figure out who to call. Your leg was in its soft cast, as you remained waiting for something or someone to come rescue you. You didn’t know where you were, you didn’t know any phone numbers off of the top of your head, and if it could get any worse, you were in England where it was raining.

“You’re going to catch a cold if you stay outside like this.”

Great. Now you’re fucking hearing things. Trying to shake the eerie feeling you had resting on your shoulders, you ignored the voice.

“Let me take you home, huh?” The voice repeated to you.

Your head turned to the left towards the voice. They were leaning against some concrete beam, cigarette almost totally nsmoked as they stepped towards you.

“John?”

“Hello, baby sister.”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You weren’t sure how you ended up at your brother’s flat in whatever country you were in at the moment. The legalization of Mick being your medical proxy was iron clad….

You never once considered an actual family member to be there for you. And as it were, your big brother had also aged some. You knew it was him immediately though. You could tell because he sort of looked like you, and his voice sounded like the only other voice besides Mick that you knew.

“Are we going back home?” Your brother was doing the dishes as you sat on the couch, your leg elevated to help relieve some swelling.

Again, you repeated the question. You could hear him turning the water off, and see him drying his hands as he turned to face you.

“No, we’re going to stay here for a little while.”

Confusion washed over you once more. Did Mick call your brother because he was unable to pick you up from the hospital? Did Mick even know you were here? All you could do was nod, while your brother excused himself to go lay down. It had been a long day of driving for him from where he came from. You remained in the quiet of your own company for a moment, trying to think of all the possibilities that could have ended up with you being in some strange apartment in a country you hardly knew. Finally, you pulled out your phone that Mick bought for you, and took a deep breath.

You: Hi Mick

…

Mick: Hello, Schätzen! It makes me very happy to see your text.

You: Really?

…

Mick: Yes, really. I would never lie to you.

You: That’s sweet.

…

…

Mick: I am so sorry I cannot be there to bring you home, but I will be there tonight and we can have dinner and watch a movie, if you would like. But, my very good friend Daniel is going to pick you up from the hospital, okay? He should be there shortly, if you just want to wait in the lobby where it is warm and dry.

You reread the message as your heart rate began to hasten. If Mick had already made arrangements for you to get picked up from the hospital… How did your brother find you?

You: Oh. I thought you called John, because he picked me up from the hospital already. A few hours ago, actually. I got released early and thought maybe you called him since you couldn’t get there in time.

Milliseconds after you pressed send on your text, your phone screen lit up brightly in your face.

INCOMING CALL: Mick Schumacher

swipe to accept

Your thumb danced over the bottom of the screen, only to have your desire to hear his voice once again take over your body. Slowly, you accepted the call.

“Schätzen, where are you?” You could hear the panic in his voice. How the fuck were you supposed to know where you were?

“Um… I’m in John’s apartment, I think.” You spoke in a whisper as to not to disturb your resting brother.

“Scheiße, Scheiße, Scheiße (Shit, shit, shit)!”

On the other side of the phone you could hear him getting up and gather his belongings wherever he was. You could pick up bits and pieces of what he was telling someone near him, but not enough to put together a full sentence. You patiently waited on your side of the line for him to speak again. What seemed like forever went by, before he talked to you.

“Can you describe where you are? Can you look outside and see any street names, or building names?” You could tell he was jogging by now.

“I’d have to get up… And my crutches are… On the other side of the room…”

Mick felt absolutely stupid for forgetting that you had a cast on your leg. And he felt even more stupid that he allowed your safety to be compromised… Again. In his defense though, he gave strict instructions to the hospital staff not to allow anyone to take you home besides himself, Sebastian, and Daniel. He even started calling you his Mrs. Schumacher for extra protection, but he’d never tell you that secret.

He was trying as quickly as he could to figure out what the hell went wrong, and how the hell your brother found you. Mick told you he’d have to call you back, but that he promised he would call back in five minutes.

As you waited for him to call back, you decided to try and hobble over to the window. It was gloomy, of course, but you could still see a few things.

House Street

Franklin Street

You decided to text Mick the names of the cross streets, just in case. Glancing around some more through the window, you saw to the far right what looked like a school or a church. You squinted to try and get the name of it.

Longfellow Grade School: Home of The Lions

You also added that to your next text message to Mick, as well as the few models of cars that were sat out on the street. Exhausted now, you hobbled your way back over to the couch and let out all the air you had pent up in your lungs.

INCOMING CALL: Mick Schumacher

swipe to accept

Faster than you did the last time, you accepted the call and raised the phone to your ear.

“Hi Mick, are you okay?”

“The police are on their way, Schätzen. Do not be scared when they arrive, ja? I will be there as fast as I can too. Stay on the line.”

You had a lot of conflicting feelings at this point. Why were the police involved now? Why did Mick sound so afraid? You couldn’t remember the last few years, but now you’re having to deal with all of this? It was as though your body was frozen with a mixture of fear and sadness. You could barely move from your spot on the couch while you anticipated the police’s arrival.

“Okay, Mick. What is going on, though?”

“I will explain everything once I bring you back home, to our home.”

Soon enough, there was a loud knock on the door. You could hear your brother curse loudly from his room as you shrank into the corner of the couch. You were very afraid. Your brother stumbled out of his room, rubbing his eyes as he opened the door to his apartment. One police officer held up a piece of paper to his face, while the other one peered into the space making sure you were alright. The male officer began to speak to your brother about whatever was on the paper, while the female officer approached you with caution.

“Hi, there. My name is Officer Clarkson. Are you alright?” Her voice was calming, and probably the most calming thing about this entire situation. She sat on the couch, keeping a good distance between you.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t know where I am.”

Mick had told the dispatchers that you were in a potentially dangerous situation, and that you had been in a bad car crash a month before resulting in some memory loss. He also told them that you in fact had a restraining order out against your brother, and that he had no clue how he got past the hospital staff.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to know anything right now. I’m just going to sit here with you, while my partner takes care of that young man. Is that alright?” Again, the peaceful cadence of her voice warmed you, and made you feel instantly safe.

“Yes.”

Your head quickly whipped to the side when your brother began yelling at the officer. He was pinned up against the wall, face to it, with his hands behind his back. The male officer handcuffed your brother and escorted him out to the police vehicle. It all happened so fast that you weren’t sure what to make of it. Officer Clarkson said some police speak into her walkie talkie that was on her chest, echoing some of the things being said back to her. She got up from the couch and looked around.

“Can you remember the last time you saw your brother?” You only shook your head in response. Your eyes followed the trail she was walking around the tiny apartment.


After a few more questions that you honestly did not know the answers to, you could hear the radio on her chest go off. The officer grabbed your crutches, and the bag you had at the hospital and escorted you downstairs. There was another police car, an SUV. Two more officers approached you, both women.

“This is Officer Hammond and Officer May. They’re going to drive you home, your real home.”

You thought you might combust trying to keep everyone’s names straight. But you still didn’t have any answers as to why your brother was sitting in the back of a cop car. And as you did so dutifully in the hospital, you did again as you just stood in silence allowing things to be explained to you.

“Your friend Mick - the one who called the us - Will meet you there. Your brother won’t bother you ever again, ma’am.” Officer Clarkson gave a promising smile and nod as she handed your bag to one of the other female officers.


Soon, you were in the backseat of the car as the three of you silently drove to wherever this new place was.

Two hours later, you were woken by Officer May trying coax you out of your sleep. You felt embarrassed for falling asleep, but it seemed like your body needed it. Rubbing your eyes, you looked over the officer’s shoulder to see you were parked in front of a modest one story home. You were in the countryside somewhere, and knowing Mick and his love for the countryside, you could tell that he put a lot of thought into this home. Even if it was going to be temporary, you enjoyed the thought of recovering somewhere private and secluded.

Officer May helped you out of the car and handed you your crutches. The sound of another car hastily pulling up made all three of your head’s turn sharply to the right. In true Mick fashion, he sported a big red truck as he parked in haphazardly. He couldn’t move fast enough though, as he jumped out of the car not even closing the door behind him. Mick ran up to you, his hands frantically searching your face for any wounds. He was rambling in German… Italian… Maybe even French as he brought you into a much needed embrace. He kissed the top of your head and looked at you with nothing but regret.

“Smidge, I am so sorry. I really do not know how this could have happened, but you are safe now. Okay? Completely safe from everything.” Mick profusely thanked the officers, and made a note to call and thank the other officers as well.

Mick helped you inside, before returning to the officers so that he could speak to them about the situation. They assured him that they would look into just how your brother was able to pick you up and take you out of the hospital. He wanted nothing more than answers at this point. (Join the club, right?)

You were still on edge when you heard the door open, your flinching making it clear. Mick walked towards you as cautiously as he could.

“It is just me, Smidge; Just Mick.” He stepped in front of you, his face softened by the sight of you. “I am sorry I scared you.”

“It’s just been a long day…” Mick led you carefully to the couch so that you could sit and rest your leg. Propping your leg up on some pillows, Mick moved to the kitchen to get you some water and some food.

The house was nicely decorated with accents of a familiar shade of red all around. The couch beneath you felt like a marshmallow compared to last couch you were sat on, and the hospital bed you had quite become accustomed to for the last month. Mick returned with a water bottle and a few snacks he might think you would want. Sitting beside you, but keeping a respectful space between you, the blond haired boy rubbed a very tired hand over his face. Leaning his head back onto the back of the couch and stretching out his arms too, he sighed a sigh of relief and closed his eyes. You watched him carefully, and more meticulously than you had in the hospital.

You liked the way his nose was slightly bigger than normal and the way that it curved downwards at the end. You noticed how his darkened blond hair curled ever so slightly at the tips. His lips were a pretty shade of pink too. You wondered if you ever had the pleasure of kissing them. His neck was bigger than you last could remember it to be. Mick’s Adam’s Apple moving up and down as he swallowed, sucking the insides of left side of his mouth. Mick always did that when he was overworked.

“Sind Sie gestresst (Are you stressed)?” Mick just hummed in response, your body relaxing at the familiar sound.

You remember how you reacted when the doctor hummed. Shuddering away that terrible thought, you scooted closer to him.

“Mir wird es gut gehen (I will be okay).” His eyes were still closed as he responded.

You took a beat and took a nice long deep breath. You remember what he had written in his letter. He probably had to leave his work to come find you. And the fact that he did made you feel something you hadn’t felt before - or at least couldn’t remember feeling. This man has always cared for you. Since you were children, he has always put you first and always made sure you were taken care of in every sense of the word. He was the only thing that connected you to your past and all of your lost memories. And surely he knew the weight of it all, yet he didn’t seem to be overwhelmed by it. He would carry the weight of the world on his shoulders if that meant he got to see you happy.

Something in the back of your head was telling you to reject these new feelings, though. You couldn’t tell what it was that was making you want to hide your emotions. The pull was strong. It was like The Force, pulling you into a dark deep alley where you were always meant to be: Alone.

You did your best to shake the distressing thought. Going back to happier things, you recited the letter in your head as you decided to be brave. After all, you didn’t survive a high speed car crash for nothing, right?

Nodding assertively to yourself, you managed to wiggle into Mick’s side. Your leg was still propped up, just now onto the coffee table in front of you. As best as you could and as comfortably too, you tucked yourself into him and his arm wrapped around you as if it were a dance you two had done a million times before. Your eyelids began to feel heavier and heavier as you felt the warmth of his body warm yours. It was not secret that the both of you were dog-tired as neither of you said a word.

The only thing surrounding you now was the sound of rain hitting the roof and someone’s arm wrapped tightly around you. And while you may not have any memories of the last few years, now was as good as time as ever to begin making new ones.

[chicgeekgirl89]

Fandom: 911 Lone Star Summary: When Carlos receives a late night call from one of his sisters who is worried about the health of his nephew, T.K. doesn't hesitate to jump in and show the entire family why he's worthy of Carlos' love. Thanks to @carlos-tk, @thisbuildinghasfeelings, @whatsintheboxmh, @lemonlyman-dotcom, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @strandnreyes, @carlos-in-glasses, and @bonheur-cafe for the WIP Wednesday tags. I hope you will accept this instead, belated as it is! A/N: This is my 100th fic on AO3!! 🍾🍾🍾 (Not my 100th fic ever, many of them never made the transfer from ff.net, but still!) I've been sitting on this one for a while and seeing T.K. shine feels like it's worthy of being #100. Also Adriana and Francesca weren't supposed to be in this one, but they literally barged through those hospital doors and there was nothing I could do to stop them. I couldn't love them more!

Read on AO3

“Sooo…never again, right?” Carlos asks.

“Oh my god never again,” T.K. agrees fervently. “Why were the plates so weird? Some of them weren’t even plates at all. And the food was…bad.”

“So bad,” Carlos says. “Tiny and bad.”

“Three hours. We were there three hours,” T.K. says in disbelief as he slows down at a stoplight. “Why did we have to wait like thirty minutes between courses?”

“The menu said it was to give us time to renew our digestive energies and be more present in the dining experience,” Carlos says.

“I didn’t know my digestive energies needed to be renewed.”

“Me neither.”

It had taken them months to get a reservation at the trendiest new restaurant in town and they’d both been excited for the occasion. The menu promised a foodie paradise with unique dishes, creative presentation, and an emphasis on sustainability. They’d gotten dressed up and ready for a fun date night out only to be disappointed the moment they’d walked in the door. 

The place had been crowded, they were practically elbow to elbow with the tables next to them. Carlos had learned the intimate details of one couple’s fertility issues and another couple’s trouble with their neighbors.

Then the food had started coming and been a complete disaster. Carlos considered himself something of a foodie, and T.K.’s New Yorker palate had sampled a number of cuisines over the years, but this had been the worst food Carlos had ever eaten. He hadn’t been able to identify a single item on any of his plates and his tongue longed for something with even a hint of flavor. The plate that held a single, lukewarm radish had nearly been his undoing.

Overall it had been three hours of bland food, awkward company, and not at all what either of them had imagined.

“I’m starving. Can we please pick up something on the way home?” T.K. asks, his stomach letting out a gurgle as if to affirm his statement.

“God yes. I think Chu’s is still open, right?” 

Carlos pulls out his phone, but it lights up with a call before he can check to see Chu’s hours. “Why’s my sister calling?”

T.K. glances over at him. “Which one?”

“Lucía,” Carlos says. It’s not typical of his sister to call at this hour out of the blue and he feels his internal warning bells activate as he picks up the call. “Luci? Que pasó?”

“Hey Carlos,” she says, sounding tired and stressed. “Sorry for calling, I know it’s late.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “We’re just on our way home from dinner. What’s going on?”

“I don’t—I’m probably overreacting,” she says. “It’s just that Justin is out of town for work and I’m—“

Now he’s really worried. “Lucí, it’s okay. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Sebastian woke up sick a couple days. I didn’t think it was a big deal, both boys are sick all the time from daycare and school, but he wasn’t any better today, so I took him to the doctor. They said he’s fine, likely just a virus or something, but…his fever won’t break and he keeps saying his belly hurts.” 

Carlos can hear the deep seated worry in his sister’s voice and it rocks him to his core. His sister is an amazing mom, fearless and sure. To hear her so uncertain is throwing him off.

“I didn’t know if maybe T.K. could just give me some advice or something?” she says, ending it like a question.

He looks over at his fiancé. “What’s going on?” T.K. asks,.

“Sebastian’s sick,” Carlos says. “Do you mind?”

“No, no, put her on speaker,” T.K. says immediately, turning his eyes back to the road as the light changes.“Hey Lucía,” he says loudly so she can hear him.

“Hey T.K.,” she says. “I’m so sorry, I know people probably ask you for medical help all the time.”

“It’s not a problem. Tell me what’s going on,” T.K. says.

“He won’t eat, he’s barely drinking. His fever had been holding steady at around a hundred, but it just spiked up to one oh two. I’ve given him medicine, done cold washcloths, I don’t know what else to try.”

“And the doctor said what exactly?”

“That it’s probably a stomach virus,” Lucía says.

T.K. mulls that over for a minute. “Aren’t we like fifteen minutes from their place?” he asks Carlos.

Carlos nods. 

“Okay, Lucía we’re going to swing by, all right?” T.K. says, flipping his blinker on to get them turned around back the way they’d just come.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that—“

“We’re coming Luci,” Carlos says. “We’ll be there soon.”

“Okay, thank you,” she says, relief flooding her voice and loosening the knot of fear in Carlos’ chest.

He hangs up and looks at T.K. “It’s probably just a stomach bug.”

“Probably,” T.K. agrees. “But if it makes her feel better to have someone give her advice it’s worth going over.”

Carlos’ heart goes soft at those words. He’d never imagined he’d be with someone like T.K. Someone so kind and good, someone who would drive to his sister’s house at nine o’clock at night just to assuage her fears. It’s beyond his wildest dreams.

They pull into the driveway of the ranch style home about ten minutes later, T.K.’s ambulance driving having shaved a few minutes off their time and a few years off of Carlos’ life. At least they’re not driving the Camaro tonight so Carlos didn’t have to fear for the safety of his baby as they sped through yellow lights and weaved in and out of traffic.

Lucía opens the door before they even knock and the relief Carlos felt a few minutes ago evaporates at the sight of her worried face. She was holding back on the phone; in person she looks even more terrified and exhausted than she sounded. “Hey guys,” she says. “I’m so sorry to drag you all the way over here.”

“Stop apologizing,” Carlos admonishes her immediately as they step inside. “That’s what family is for.”

Sebastian lays on the couch in the living, looking younger and tinier than his six years, his face pale and drawn. There’s an episode of Paw Patrol playing on the television mounted above the fireplace and he has a blanket pulled all the way up to his chin. Carlos can see Fuzzy, his comfort bear, peeking out over the top. 

“Hey buddy,” he says, crouching down and giving his nephew a smile. “Tummy bothering you?”

Sebastian nods but doesn’t say anything, another sign that something is wrong. Usually he’s a chatterbox, happy to talk about school or his friends or soccer. Carlos smiles wider, despite the worry swirling in his gut, trying for calm and reassuring uncle. “Do you remember my boyfriend T.K.? From the party at Abuela and Abuelo’s house?” Carlos asks and Sebastian’s eyes move over his shoulder to where T.K. is standing behind him. He gets another nod.

“He���s going to take a look at you, okay?” Carlos says, standing up and moving back to where Lucía is anxiously hovering behind the couch so that T.K. has space to work.

“Hey Sebastian,” T.K. says as he takes Carlos’ spot. “You know I’m a paramedic, right?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says, his voice small.

“Do you know what a paramedic does?”

“Help people feel better?”

T.K. smiles and nods. “That’s right. So let’s see if I can help you feel better, sound good?”

“Mhmm.”

“Awesome. Okay, I’m going to pull down the blanket and take a look. You tell me if anything hurts, all right?”

He gently pulls down the blanket and places his fingers on Sebastian’s wrist, looking at his watch while he does it. He pulls out a stethoscope he had in the car and listens to the little boy’s lungs, then takes his temperature with the thermometer Lucía has on the coffee table. He narrates quietly the entire time, letting Sebastian know what he’s doing as he does it.

“Okay, let’s see that belly,” he finally says with a smile.

He pulls up the top of Sebastian’s Power Rangers pajamas, talking to him softly while his hands palpate his abdomen. “You like Power Rangers huh? Which one is your favorite?”

“Red,” Sebastian says immediately. “He’s the head guy.”

“He is,” T.K. says. “I always liked the Green one though.”

Sebastian winces and makes a noise that breaks Carlos’ heart in half. T.K.’s hands immediately immediately stop. “Sorry buddy,” he says. “That hurt?”

Sebastian nods and T.K. gently puts his pajama shirt back into place. “I’m going to go talk to your mom and tío. You stay right here and make sure this couch doesn’t go anywhere, okay?”

He gets to his feet and nods toward the hallway where Carlos and Lucía follow him out of Sebastian’s earshot. “His pulse is a little fast and there is some tenderness in his abdomen,” T.K. says quietly. “That coupled with the fever and the lethargy is definitely concerning.”

Lucía puts her hand on Carlos’ arm and he covers it with his own in an attempt at reassurance. “So what should I do? Wait until the morning and see how he is? Give him more meds?” she asks.

“Considering his symptoms, I would recommend you take him to the ER,” T.K. says gently.

She blows out a breath as Carlos’ stomach drops. “Okay,” she says. “Okay um, okay. I’ll just wake up Nicholas and…”

“No, no, no,” Carlos says quickly. “No I’ll call Mom and ask her to come be with Nicky. I’ll stay until she gets here.”

“And I’ll go with you to the ER,” T.K. offers. “I can walk you through all the paperwork, field questions from the doctors, whatever you need.”

“Seriously?” Lucía looks teary eyed. “You’ll come?”

“Of course,” T.K. says. “Why don’t you go grab whatever might help keep him calm while we’re there? iPad or a book maybe. It could be a long wait.”

“Okay, right. Yes. Give me like five minutes and I’ll be ready,” she says, rushing off to go gather supplies.

“What are you thinking?” Carlos asks immediately.

T.K. has his neutral paramedic face on, but Carlos has learned to read between the lines. “I’m thinking it could be a number of things,” T.K. says. “Just a stomach bug maybe, but even if it is I think he’s dehydrated. And given his symptoms and the decline, I’m also worried about an impacted or perfed bowel or maybe even appendicitis.”

“How worried?” 

T.K. blows out a breath. “Worried enough that I wouldn’t wait until the morning to try and get him some treatment.”

His words unlock a whole new level of fear that Carlos has never experienced before, and it takes a lot for him to stay calm as he calls his mom and explains the situation. Lucía returns with a tote bag full of supplies and T.K. scoops up Sebastian, carrying him out to the car with Lucía on his heels. 

“Mom says she’ll be here in fifteen minutes. I’ll be right behind you,” Carlos promises as T.K. sets Sebastian gently in the backseat, pillowing his head on Lucía’s lap.

“Can you call Justin?” Lucía asks, looking like she’s barely holding it together. “He knows Sebby’s sick but I want him to know we’re heading to the ER.”

“Yes,” Carlos says. “I’ll call him as soon as I’m back inside.”

“Hey,” T.K. catches his eye as he climbs into the driver’s seat. “I’ve got them, okay?”

“I know you do,” Carlos says and then the door is shut and they’re gone, leaving him standing in the driveway, his heart in his stomach.

He trudges back into the house and sinks onto the couch, eyes glued to Nicholas’ sleeping form on the baby monitor. He’s not a parent, so why does this feel so awful?

It takes him a minute to emotionally prepare for this phone call and he has to take a deep breath before tapping Justin’s name on his screen. 

It rings and rings and then sends him to voicemail, so he tries again. And again. The third time, Justin finally picks up.

“Dude, if this is a butt dial I’m going to kill you,” his brother-in-law says groggily.

Carlos forgot that it’s nearly midnight on the east coast right now. “Justin,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady.

“What’s wrong? Are Lucía and the boys okay?” Justin immediately sounds more awake now that he’s heard Carlos’ voice.

“Everyone’s safe,” Carlos tells him quickly. “I’m at your place with Nicholas because Sebastian’s feeling worse. She and T.K. are on the way to the ER with him.”

There’s a pause, Carlos can practically feel Justin’s panic through the phone. “Okay, um, okay,” he finally says. “Shit, I’m in Atlanta. There won’t be any flights for hours…”

“My mom’s on her way here to stay with Nicholas,” Carlos says. “I’ll head to the hospital and keep you updated, okay?”

“Yeah, okay, um, thanks Carlos,” Justin says, sounding a little hoarse. “Please um, please tell them I love them, okay? And that I’ll be on the first flight out I can get.”

“I will.”

He hangs up just as the front door opens and his mom comes in. “Carlitos,” she says softly and he immediately gets up to hug her. “How is Sebby?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not sure. They probably just got to the ER, it could be hours before we know anything.”

“And Lucía?”

“She’s worried,” he says. 

“As are we all,” she says, empathy all over her face. “T.K. went with her?”

“Yeah, he said he’d help with things there.”

She smiles softly and touches his face. “You picked a good one mijo. Not every man would drop everything to help his boyfriend’s family.”

There’s a lump in Carlos throat and he struggles to speak past it. “I know.”

“You should get going.”

“Okay. Nicholas is asleep in his crib. I called Justin, he’s working on getting a flight back.”

She nods. “Keep me posted.”

“I will.”

The drive to the hospital is so lonely and silent that it makes each minute feel even longer beneath the glow of the streetlights. How on earth did he go from having dinner with his boyfriend to taking his nephew to the ER? It’s ridiculous. They should be home right now, cuddling on the couch or the bed, watching some stupid show that neither of them really cares about because what they’re actually interested in is making out with each other.

Instead he’s about to spend hours in a hard plastic chair praying that a six year old he loves dearly is going to be all right.

He’s so anxious to get there that he doesn’t realize until he’s through the doors that he has no idea where he’s going. Or even if they’re gong to let him stay. Surely they’re not going to let three adults hang out in the ER in the middle of the night when one would suffice. 

He forgot he has T.K. Strand in his corner.

“How can I help you?” the nurse asks when he steps up to the counter.

“I’m here for my nephew? Sebastian Bryant? He came in with my sister,” Carlos says, feeling awkward.

“Oh you’re Carlos,” she says immediately. “T.K.’s boyfriend.”

“I—yeah,” Carlos says, surprised by her familiarity.

“I’m Stella. It’s so nice to finally meet you, although I wish it wasn’t because your nephew’s in here. T.K. talks about you all the time.”

“He does?”

“Oh my god, try getting him to stop. Carlos this, my boyfriend that, and now I see why. You two are gorgeous together,” she says, flashing him a smile. “Here come with me. I’ll take you to them. Darlene? Can you cover the desk?”

Stella takes him down a hall, past the general area of the ER to a more closed off section. It’s not a room, but it’s quieter here, and Carlos can hear T.K.’s voice even before Stella pulls back the curtain to reveal him.

“Found someone who belongs to you,” Stella says.

T.K.’s eyes find him, soft and relieved. “Hey, I was just about to text you an update. Thanks so much Stella.”

“No problem. I’m going to check and see where we’re at with the tests and then I’ll be back.”

“How’s it going?” Carlos asks quietly.

Sebastian is asleep in the bed, an IV in his arm and Fuzzy tucked in beside him. Lucía is sitting in a chair next to him, his little fingers curled around hers.

“They’re going to take him for a CT as soon as one opens up,” she says quietly. “He was crying when we got here, but they gave him some pain medication and he fell asleep like ten minutes ago.”

“Good,” Carlos says in relief. It feels so much better to know that there are people actively working to help Sebastian. “Nicholas is with Mom, he was still asleep when I left. And Justin’s getting on the first flight he can in the morning.”

“Okay.”

Lucía’s face crumples and she immediately puts her hands over her mouth to stifle a sob. T.K. looks at Carlos. “I’m going to go grab us some coffee,” he says, slipping discreetly out of the room.

Carlos squats down by his sister’s chair and puts a hand on her knee. She immediately covers it with her own and squeezes. “I’m sorry,” she says. “He just—he’s so little. He was so scared when we got here, it’s so bright and they put in the IV and he cried and I just, I need Justin to be here, because I am not strong enough for this.”

“He’s coming,” Carlos says. “He’s coming as fast as he can. And until he does I’m here, all right? I’m here with you and Mom is with Nicholas. Sebastian is going to be fine. He’s scared, but you’re taking such great care of him. You are an amazing mom. You’re doing everything right.”

She nods a couple times, clearly trying to internalize his words before taking a deep breath and wiping her eyes. “You know um, T.K. is pretty amazing too,” she tells him, wiping at her eyes. “I thought we’d be here for hours before we got answers, but he called ahead in the car and that nurse, Stella, was waiting for us. As soon as we were in the door they were drawing blood and starting tests. It’s like they rolled out the red carpet.” She nods toward the doorway. “Not everyone would do that kind of thing for someone they barely know.”

“That’s T.K.,” Carlos says, warmth blooming through his chest at her words. “He’s…incredible.”

“You know, I already liked him a lot, but now…” She quirks a smile. “You’d better hold onto him.”

Carlos nods, heart fluttering away in his chest. “That’s the plan.”

T.K. comes back with coffee right about the same time someone shows up to take Sebastian for his CT scan. He’s unhappy to be woken up, but mollified when Carlos promises to take him for ice cream once a week for the next month. 

The nurse is incredible, telling Sebastian he’s going to go on a ride in a spaceship, although that does nothing to help Carlos’ heart when they start the sedation and he watches Sebastian’s eyelids flutter shut, his body going limp in a weirdly unnatural way. He’s gone for over an hour, all of them sipping tepid hospital coffee in a desperate attempt not to fall asleep as the clock ticks later and later. 

When the orderly returns with him he’s completely zonked out and Carlos hopes he’ll stay that way. It’s not long after that an ER doctor shows up and informs them that the CT scan is indicating appendicitis, despite Sebastian’s slightly atypical presentation of symptoms. Lucía takes the news better than Carlos thought she might, she’s clearly relieved to have an answer and a defined course of action, even if it does mean a surgery they’re told is being scheduled for the early hours of the morning. Someone will be by soon to get them admitted and transferred to a room for the night.

“You guys should go home” she says. “You’ve done more than enough, really. He’s just going to sleep until it’s time for surgery and they’re not going to let you come into the room with us anyway.”

“Don’t worry about them kicking us out,” T.K. says immediately. “If you want us to stay that won’t be a problem.”

She smiles at him. “You’ve done more than enough tonight. I’ll be fine. I promise. Go home and get some sleep.”

Carlos is reluctant to leave her, but she’s right. There’s no point in staying when it’s so late and nothing is going to happen until morning anyway. The moment of crisis is past and now there’s nothing to do but wait.

“I’ll come back in the morning for his surgery,” Carlos says.

“You don’t have to—“ She must catch the look of determination in his eyes because she cuts herself off and nods. “Okay. Thank you.”

He stands and she meets him with a brief hug before she turns to T.K. “I really can’t thank you enough. I don’t think I would have made it tonight without you T.K.,” she says.

“Yes you would have,” he says graciously. “But I’m glad I could help. If anything changes in the night you have my number, don’t be afraid to call.”

“I will.” 

Carlos can’t help but notice that T.K. gets a slightly longer hug than he did and the warm feeling in his chest only intensifies. He reaches for T.K.’s hand as they head out into the hall and T.K. gives him a tired smile in return. “Oh, hang on one second,” he says as they pass the nurses station, letting go of Carlos’ hand. “I’ll be right back.”

He jogs over and flashes that winning smile again at the nurse who’s there, not Stella this time, and chats with her for a minute before returning to Carlos’ side. “What was that about?” Carlos asks, interlacing their fingers together again.

“I just wanted to make sure they put Sebastian in a private room,” T.K. says. “They have the space, Natalie says it won’t be a problem.”

“Natalie huh?” Carlos says as they exit the automatic doors and head for the darkened parking structure. “She also falls victim to your beautiful eyes and charming smile?”

“Victim?” T.K. scoffs. “No one is a victim. I have paid for these hospital perks with dozens of coffees and donuts and muffins and even the occasional Target run. This is just good natured southern kindness being returned.”

Carlos laughs out loud. “Right. Not a single bit of it has to do with your innate charm and that smile that brings people to their knees and makes them feel like they’re only person you’ve ever cared about.”

“I mean, it had to start somewhere,” T.K. says, flashing him that exact smile. “But we’ve come a long way since then.”

“Well thank you,” Carlos says, meaning it from the bottom of his heart. “I honestly I don’t how to say thank you enough. My family is…they’re so important to me and I…”

“Hey.” T.K. tugs him to a stop and meets his gaze under the half light of the parking garage. “They’re important to me too.”

The drive home is blessedly short and they fall into bed exhausted at around midnight only to wake up again at five to head back over to the hospital. Carlos tells T.K. he doesn’t have to come, but the look he gets shuts him up immediately. T.K. is clearly invested. 

They stop for coffee on the way, real, decent coffee, and some bagels, plus a cake pop for Sebastian after surgery. 

He gets a text update as they’re pulling up to the hospital again; Justin is on a flight and should get there by the time the surgery is over. It’s a relief to know his sister will have her support to lean on again in the near future. 

Once they arrive Carlos sits back and watches in wonder as T.K. works his magic. Someone shows up to give Sebastian not one, not two, but three different stuffed toys along with a coloring pack and some Hot Wheels cars. T.K. sits down on his bed and explains the whole surgery in terms a six year old an understand, and when the time comes, Sebastian is whisked off without a single tear.

He’s seen T.K. at work before, but this is an entirely different level of incredible. He knows almost every nurse, every doctor, every orderly that they see, and if he doesn’t, by the time they leave he’s made them feel like an old friend. People can’t seem to do enough for him. 

Justin gets there about twenty minutes after the surgery starts, exhausted and haggard looking, his collared shirt buttoned the wrong way and his hair looking like he didn’t even comb it. T.K. somehow procures fresh, non-cafeteria coffee for him, whispering something about the doctor’s lounge, as well as a banana and a granola bar. 

Everything goes exactly as expected and soon enough the doctor is back to let them know that Sebastian was a champ during surgery and they expect a quick recovery. Lucía and Justin head back to wait with him until the sedation wears off, while Carlos and T.K. continue hanging out in the waiting room until Sebastian can have more visitors.

When Carlos hears a loud commotion behind him, he knows without even looking that reinforcements have arrived. Adriana and Francesca have shown up with more balloons than a circus, a gigantic stuffed bear, and several bags of god only knows what else. “Oh my god, Cesca don’t let them float away,” Adriana is saying as they try and get through the automatic doors that keep closing before all the balloons can make it through.

“I���m not!” Francesca snaps back. “It’s the stupid doors! You could like try to help!”

“With what hands?” Adriana cries, her arms full of stuffed bear.

“Ah, perfect,” Carlos says weakly, looking at T.K. who is already smiling at his sister and cousin’s antics.

“Carlos! Get over here!” Francesca barks and he stands with a sigh, going to help her get in the doorway. 

“Hello, good morning, how are you guys doing?” Carlos prompts as he grabs the brightly colored strings and yanks them inside, the balloons bopping along behind and nearly smacking an elderly woman in the face.

“I mean you’re both awake and have coffee, so I assume you’re fine,” she tells him as she plonks into a seat across from T.K.

“Yeah, geez, way to make our nephew’s surgery about you,” Adriana says with a roll of her eyes. 

Carlos doesn’t bother to remind her that technically Sebastian is a cousin to her, not a nephew; labels other than “familia” ceased to have any meaning to them long ago. “So what’s the deal? Is he okay?” Francesca asks.

“The surgery went well,” T.K. says. “Sebastian’s appendix didn’t rupture, so the chances of infection are low. He should be able to head home in a day or so.”

“Phew. Poor little dude. This sucks,” Francesca says.

“But he’s okay,” Adriana says. “That’s what’s important. Everyone is okay. And all his friends are going to be very jealous when he gets back to school.”

She opens one of the bags and pulls out a tray of something that immediately fills the air with the scent of tomatoes and cheese. “Why do you have tamales?” Carlos asks. “It’s ten am.”

“Because Mom told us to go by the house and bring them over,” Francesca says. “She doesn’t, and I quote, ‘want anyone eating that hospital garbage, it will rot their stomachs.’”

“Sounds like your mom,” T.K. says with a cheeky smile as he reaches for one of the tamales. 

“We also have…taquitos, mac and cheese for Sebastian, and…arroz con pollo,” Francesca says, checking the other bags. 

“Your mom just had this all on hand?” T.K. asks, his mouth full.

“Tía Andrea always has everything on hand,” Adriana says.

Despite his initial scoffing, by the time Justin comes back an hour later to tell them Sebastian is up for visitors, Carlos has eaten three tamales, half a dozen taquitos, and a plateful of arroz con pollo. Apparently hospitals make him hungry. They’ve also fed four nurses and an orderly that T.K. knows, and they haven’t even put a dent in what’s there. 

Justin looks a little less of a mess now, he’s clearly spent some time in front of a mirror and his shirt is buttoned the right way now. He’s smiling in spite of the tiredness in his eyes, which widen in delight at the sight of the food. “Oh thank god for Andrea,” he says, immediately reaching for a taquito. 

“Hey, how do you know it wasn’t us?” Adriana asks, clearly offended.

Justin fixes her with a look and she shrugs. “I mean, yeah it was Tía Andrea, but we’re the ones that brought it over here,” she says.

“Thank you for your service,” Justin says around a mouthful.

“How’s Sebastian?” Francesca asks.

“Better than Lucía or me,” he says. “He says it barely hurts and he’s very excited to have a cool scar.” He looks at T.K. “Apparently you’ve really made this hospital experience feel like a vacation T.K.”

“I’m just glad he’s doing all right,” T.K. says. 

“Can we see him?” Carlos asks. 

“Yeah,” Justin says. “Lucí sent me to get you all.”

“Well then let’s get this party moved!” Francesca says, closing up the tupperware with incredible speed built from years of cleaning up house parties and hiding the evidence before their parents got home.

They make quite a parade marching through the pediatric wing of the hospital with balloons and bears and food galore. But then, the Reyes clan usually does. They’re not exactly known for being a calm and quiet bunch.

Sebastian is sitting up in bed eating a popsicle, looking like the happiest human alive even with an IV in his arm and stitches in his side. “Sebby!” Francesca says happily. “You’re looking good there buddy!”

“You brought me balloons?” he asks as Lucía quickly rescues his popsicle, which is in danger of falling to the floor.

“We brought you balloons and a bear and macaroni and cheese from Abuela,” Adriana tells him.

“Can I have mac and cheese right now?” he asks Lucía.

“Let’s maybe wait until after the doctor comes by again,” she says.

“But then I can have it? And the ice cream Tío Carlos promised me?”

It gets a chuckle from everyone in the room. 

The women start to fuss, setting up the balloons and bear in the best possible place, but Carlos’ eyes are on T.K. who is not-so-subtly checking out all the monitors and lines, ensuring that things are exactly as they should be. God, he loves this man. He loves him more than he thought he could ever love a human being.

“Well this looks like a party!” A man whose name tag identifies him as Dr. Nguyen, comes into the room, iPad in hand. Carlos assumes this must be the surgeon. “Sebastian who are all these fine people who came to visit you?”

“This is my Tía Cesca and my Tía Adriana. They brought me balloons,” Sebastian says, pointing to them in turn. 

“Well that’s very nice.”

“And that’s my Tío Carlos,” Sebastian says.

“Oh, is this the Tío you were telling me about? The one who’s a paramedic and helped you feel better?”

“No, my Tío Carlos is just a police officer,” Sebastian says. “My Tío T.K. is the one who’s a paramedic.” He turns his head to look at where T.K. is standing next to his IV pole. “Paramedics help people feel better. Right Tío?”

T.K. freezes for a second, his eyes locking with Carlos’. “Um, yeah,” he says finally. “Yes, that’s right. Paramedics help people. And then doctors help them even more.”

“Yeah, Dr. Nguyen took my appendix out,” Sebastian says. He looks the doctor square in the face. “My mom says you have to tell me if I can have mac and cheese or not.”

Dr. Nguyen laughs. “I can do that. Let’s give you a little check up and see.”

“We’ll give you some privacy,” Francesca says, which is hilarious given that she hasn’t let anyone have a single minute of privacy since the day she was born.

They step out into the hall, Adriana and Francesca immediately abandoning T.K. and Carlos to go look for hot doctors. Carlos runs a hand through his curls and looks at where his boyfriend is leaning up against the wall. “Well I guess we know who his new favorite tío is,” he says.

T.K. looks up, uncharacteristically nervous. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that. You’re not just a police officer.”

Carlos chuckles. “Oh I’m sure he meant it exactly like that. Tío Carlos is just a tío who wrestles and gives him ice cream. Tío T.K. saves lives. You made an impression.”

T.K. blushes. “I’m glad I could help.” His gaze softens. “I can’t believe he called me tío.”

And despite the fact that no one in the family has ever referred to T.K. that way before, Carlos isn’t surprised in the least. “Is that okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” T.K. says quickly. “Yeah I—as long as you and your family are okay with it. I don’t…I wouldn’t want him to be confused.”

“He’s not confused.” Carlos’ words are soft and he reaches down, intertwining their fingers. “I don’t think anybody is confused anymore about why you’re so important to me.”

T.K. meets his gaze and Carlos feels like he can see all the way into the vulnerability at the core of this man who came here so broken and lost, and is just starting to figure out how vital he is to everyone around him. Carlos leans in and their lips meet, soft and sweet. It’s not enough to really say thank you, he’s not sure he can ever truly find a way, but in this moment he knows he’ll try. Everyday for the rest of his life if he needs to.

The door to Sebastian’s room opens and Carlos reluctantly pulls back, keeping their hands firmly clasped even when T.K. starts to pull away a little. “Bad news,” Lucía says. “Mac and cheese is off the table until tomorrow. T.K., he would like to know if you have any connections that can get him jello instead. But only the red kind. Not the green.”

“Absolutely,” T.K. says, already pulling out his phone to send a text. “Red jello coming right up.”

Carlos shakes his head and smiles as they reenter the room, Sebastian’s face lighting up when he sees T.K. again. Carlos has always thought T.K. seemed like magic. And now everyone else can see it too.

[cookiesupplier]

Hell Ain't So Bad - Part Three

pairing: Noah Sebastian x ofc (Ellie) 

warnings/tropes: slow burn, smut (eventually), angst, fluff, mentions of death, mentions of torture, thoughts of religious ideology, and swearing.

summary: Ellie is lost in the world. When the perfect opportunity falls into her lap, she doesn’t want to pass it up.. Turns out though, it might be a little bit stranger than she ever expected. Who would have thought that one day, she’d end up working in hell itself.. And what does this even mean?

author’s note: Unbetaed, readers beware.. my messages and asks are always open.

tags: @spicywhenspeaking Tags are opens for those interested.

Sleeping in the empty room of the agency offices was weird, mostly because she would have assumed that so many people would come in and out of a place like this, that why would they have such an empty room. Ellie had never been to an agency that had seemed so quiet like this before, and she wasn’t just talking at the damn crack of dawn when she was startled awake. 

It took her a moment to realise why she woke up before she was uncurling her body from the lounge chair in the room that Steven had left her in last night along with some leftover sandwiches for dinner.

She wandered out to the foyer to find another man entirely, and he had a bright grin on his face,

“Oh, hello! You must be Ellie, the new recruit, sorry if I woke you, I’m a bit early but thought you could use something for breakfast before we head out.”

So he was here for her. That got her attention. Rubbing her eyes, she took a better look at him, he was clearly a bundle of energy, already almost bounding on the balls of his feet this early in the morning, a tray of coffees in one hand and a paper bag in the other,

“Come, let's eat.”

Shrugging one of his shoulders towards the chaired area for them to sit down.. She glanced back to the room she’d come from, before moving to follow him. It was just a small space. A couple chairs, a small table with a magazine that looked to be half falling apart. He set the tray and bag on the table over the magazine and took a couple of wraps out of the bag for them.

“Breakfast wraps, hope you don’t mind, how’d you sleep by the way? Those chairs can be a bit lumpy from what I remember.”

This guy was all smiles and such a bundle of energy.

“Oh-”

As she adjusted in the chair in the waiting area, this was actually more uncomfortable to her, and he asked her how she slept, Ellie realized then, that, well, she had slept, all night, she hadn’t woken up once, not to cough, not to wheeze, nothing. It had been a dream. Her chest didn’t feel heavy at all, that tea had done wonders. She really needed to ask Nicholas about that remedy of his mother’s. Would he really give her more?

Now though, she reached for her wrap, her stomach grumbling, it had been a long time since she’d gotten regular meals, if she wasn’t careful, her body would get used to it again.

“I ah, I slept fine, um…”

“Shit- I’m Folio.. Well, Nick, but considering you just met Nicholas, everyone just calls me Folio, less confusing.”

Nodding as he quickly took a bite of his own wrap and Ellie smiled, thankful for the explanation, not that she expected to see much more of Nicholas- wasn’t like the agency was the company she’d been hired for, right? However, if he wanted to be called Folio, then who was she to argue with him. 

Biting into her breakfast wrap, fuck, she forgot how good real food could be. Th sandwiches were great and all, but this, however, bacon and eggs, was greasy goodness wrapped in a tortilla and, the way her stomach twisted a little, it had been so long without a full decent mean, she wondered if she wasn’t going to pay painfully for how well she was being fed.

At that thought, she also wondered if this food was going to come at a cost. Her eyes darted to the man who was munching happily on his own food without a care in the world, another voice cutting in, and it was Nicholas, just whom she’d been thinking she wouldn’t see again, coming out of nowhere, from the offices in the building.

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t want anything for it.”

It was almost as if he could tell what she was thinking, like it was written all over her face. What was he, a mind reader?

“Not a mind reader, just met more than a few people in your position, it’s alright.”

Sure.. not a mind reader, he just answers the question without being asked, that was really convincing Mr Ruffilo.

The answering amused chuckle didn’t help convince her one little bit when she took another bite of her breakfast burrito as she watched him walk across the foyer towards where they were seated and reach into the paper bag and pulled out another wrap along with lifting one of the coffees from the tray.

When he turned to go, he just just smiled softly to her,

“Good luck settling in Ellie, I’m sure Folio will get you there safe and sound. I’ll see you around.”

With a wink he disappeared back into the hall that led back to his office. That was.. curious.

Reaching for her own coffee, she was pulled from her thoughts about what was up with that man by Folio beside her,

“Maddening isn’t he? Anyway, he’s right, we’re good, technically I used his card to pay for it anyway-”

"I heard that!”

Ellie couldn’t barely manage not to choke on a mouthful of coffee at the frustrated shout that sounded from the offices when she tried not to laugh. Folio, however, did nothing short of roaring with laughter including the brightest grin on his face when he grabbed the tray from the table and what was left of the bag of their breakfast,

“Come on, let's blow this joint before he comes out and breathing fire and brimstone to scalp me.”

Not that he looked remotely worried about it at all despite his words, still, he ushered her out of the building towards the car they were taking on the way. It was fancy, not that she could tell you anything about the make, but definitely nothing she could ever afford in her life.. Then again, when had she been able to afford a car of any kind, ever. It looked all fancy, like when a rich person hires a driver to take them everywhere.

Was she supposed to sit in the back? Glancing between the doors as she shoved the last of her wrap into her mouth, not wanting to get any food anywhere inside a car like this, Folio was reaching for the drivers door though and scoffed before she looked to the back,

“Don’t you dare, Ellie, I need someone to talk to, I’ll go out of my mind sitting up the front alone.”

When she looked to him strangely, he set the coffee and food in side the car and rushed around the car, only as fast as his ball of energy hyped up on caffeine could, opening the other front door for her.

“Come onnnn, I know drivers usually kick peeps to the back, but come on, where’s the fun in that?”

Raising an eyebrow at him as she looked to him curious, he certainly was very hyper.

“How many coffees have you had this morning?”

Snorting, grinning at her cheekily as he answered.

“Just the one.”

Could have fooled her, who was this vibrant this early?

Ellie was convinced, Folio might just be able to talk underwater. They talked about everything on the drive, from music, to movies, to hobbies. His voice was actually soothing, soft spoken, but he had this energy about him, like a puppy that never stopped. Full of raw energy.

After they stopped for lunch at a diner, she couldn’t quite remember for the life of her where, Folio was doing a fantastic job of keeping her distracted of where they were on the road as they drove for hours, she found herself drifting off. It was just a bit of a nap. She swore it.

She closed her eyes. That was all.

Next thing she knew, she was jolting awake, and they were no longer driving, Folio was knocking on the window before opening her door.

“Come on, sleepy head, we’re here!”

It took her a moment, Ellie blinking herself awake, not surprising with how little sleep she’d been getting with how long she’d been sleeping on the streets, and even longer, jumping from place to place, stressing out trying to make ends meet before everything finally fell completely apart.

Somehow, that all ended today. At least for now, while she worked for this company. It was funny, she didn’t even know their name yet, or where she was

“Hey, Folio, where are we anyway?”

“Oh, oh, you mean Nicholas didn’t tell you?”

There was something about his amused little chuckle then, like he knew something she didn’t,

“Ellie, WELCOME TO HELL!”

What. The. Fuck.

Looking from Folio to the large cast iron gates that he was walking towards. The gates that seemed to be, wait…

She glanced around… the only way…

The space the car was parked in looked like a car park, for exactly one space, and stepping away from it, the further she walked, the car seemed to vanish, like now that it wasn’t needed, it was just, gone

What was happening?

Glancing back to the gate, with Folio standing in front of them, his bright grin on his face as he looked to her, waiting, waving her over,

“Cool huh? Come on, I’m sure your apartment is all ready for you and everything!”

As she walked towards the gates, glancing back towards the car once more, the car, the road behind them, all of it was almost completely gone..

Spinning around to stare at Folio, what the he- Shit. Shit shit shit.

Her steps quickened as she approached the gate, the cast irons bars opened on their own as they approached, creaking, as if they were old, ancient, it was creepy, menacing, and fuck, that was just-

Her thoughts disturbed by Folio chuckling again… she looked over at him before he waved towards the gate.

“Sorry sorry.”

Soon as he waved, the gate stopped making the noise and was perfectly silent and normal as it closed, the world beyond the gate looking normal once more, though, completely non-descript, like a long highway to nowhere.

“Where are we Folio, really?”

“I told you, we’re in Hell, let’s go.”

Ellie was in a state of shock, she had to be, what else could she be? Folio was still chattering away about the look on her face when he walked her up to an apartment building with yet another heavily tattooed man waiting for her out front.

Not that she was complaining, they were hot. It was almost a disappointment she probably wasn’t going to see Nicholas again. Despite what he’d said to her that morning… Would she see him again? The way Folio spoke of him too, they seemed to be well acquainted, it was interesting.

A lot of this didn’t entirely add up.

Maybe it would start making sense soon.

She’d consider asking Folio, but after the tricks at the gate, and the HELL stuff, she wasn’t sure he’d be straight with her.

Maybe this guy would be.

Now. Ellie didn’t know what expression was on her face when they approached him but he took one look at her and immediately an exasperated sigh escaped him as he glanced to the other man,

“Really, Folio? You break the new recruit on her first day?! She hasn’t even moved in you Rövhatt.”

Shaking his head, he glanced at her, Ellie looking at him, trying to get a feel for him, while like Nicholas he had long hair, his was flowing down around his shoulder instead of being tied back, and he had a bit of an accent to his words, she wasn’t quite sure she could place it yet.

“You alright, Sweetheart? He didn’t scare you, did he? I know he’s a bit of a handful sometimes, but he’s a puppy dog, really, doesn’t bite a lick.”

Levelling a half-hearted glare at Folio with a smirk,

“Shoo!”

And with that, the shorter man laughed, nudging Ellie slightly with his elbow,

“It was great meeting you, don’t be a stranger, us mortals gotta stick together around here!”

With that, and a playful wave of his hands like he was playing the drums and he’s just made the funniest joke in the world, earning an eye roll from the other man, and off he went.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

[cyberphuck]

Tonight Sebastian showed me a very long r/nosleep story that he said had freaked him out a lot. I feel a little bad because glitchy technology stuff does not scare me at all, and I did warn him ahead of time that that was the case, but I think he’s a little mad at me because throughout the entire two hour run time I could not take the story seriously.

Even though he and I are only 11 years apart in age, we pretty much grew up in different eras of the Internet, as well as having vastly different backgrounds. Some creepypastas and nosleeps definitely scare me, but it’s never the technology glitch or evil technology ones. As a matter of fact, those who know me know that I think video game glitches are the funniest things to ever exist. One time I laughed so hard at a GTA glitch compilation that I legitimately thought I was going to rupture something in my gut. I literally could not stop laughing, and continued laughing all that night every time I thought about it. 

(Maybe the fact that I no longer fear most outside threats factors in to my being totally unfazed by most of the stories he shows me. FIGHT ME! FIGHT MEEEE!)

So the story about someone finding out that they had communicated with a dead girl on the Internet, who was maybe also a minion of a dead Internet God? (Or something) didn’t affect me at all. At one point, I couldn’t help myself and shouted “well then stop clicking on the links!” And Seb glared at me. At what was probably supposed to be the scariest part of the story, the narrator finds out that the skeletal remains he found in a hole in the wall at the Internet café are actually *his* skeletal remains, I thought ‘well obviously they’re not his remains because he’s standing right there.’ At least by that point I had stopped saying things out loud, lol.

there were a lot of inter linking parts of the story that maybe I wasn’t getting even though I was paying attention to the narrative, but I feel bad whenever Seb shows me something that affected him a lot and for me it just does nothing. I think for both of us the scariest stories involve a sense of inevitability or helplessness, but the method of delivery, whether it be through evil technology or monsters in the woods, differs for us both.

There’s also this thing that almost all creepypastas and nosleeps do which Seb and I call “And YOU were skeleton! And WROTE THIS!!” where they get to the climax, what should be the horrifying discovery followed by a cut to black, and instead they just keep going. “And the Evil Link came out of the TV and chased him around the house!” type of thing. Like dude, the story about a mysterious fucked up video game cartridge was fine, it was creepy enough. You have to leave some of it to the imagination. Any creepypastas that end with “in the morning they found his dead body with all his guts out and it was so scary” automatically gets an F from me.

The best stories, for me, are ones where something Not Normal is going on, no one knows why, and it’s never explained. The Smiling Man short story is a classic— the man is just wandering around being weird and uncanny, chases the narrator and is never seen again. What the fuck did he want? It COULD be that he’s going to kill you and wear your skin, or maybe he’s trying to sell you timeshares. You don’t know! If the obvious solution to “ghosts in my video game” is “go do something else then,” your story needs a rewrite, and don’t just do the playground tactic of “well you can’t because uhhhh, it’ll get you.” If my dead girlfriend is inside my copy of Animal Crossing I’m just gonna leave her in there.

Everyone knows it’s really hard to impress me when it comes to writing fiction, *especially* when it comes to horror, because I’ve been neck deep in true crime stories and gore videos for most of my life AND I’m a notorious snob about writing in general (and specifically popular works that I feel insult their readers by expecting them to put up with clunky dialogue and flimsy plots). Nosleeps are written by small time authors for the most part, but there are a few well known nosleepers who put out a lot of stories that are then recorded as YouTube videos and played to me by my brother whom I love dearly and would do anything for, and those authors need to step up their game so that I don’t laugh at the parts that are supposed to be scary.

For what it’s worth, Anansi’s Goatman Story scared the FUCK out of me.

[vickyshinoa12]

Will you still love me if I’m… this? (Sebastian Solace x Victoria [OC] fanfic)

Warnings: mentions of violence, experiments on a human, brutality. Just adults stuff around but not NSFW like sex :) it’s kinda angst instead

💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧💧

Sebastian has been down in this hellish site for years… to be trapped again when he caused a riot around is just another cut in his mental state. They were hunting him… they were going to search for him for releasing the identities around. He didn’t care. He wanted revenge on everyone who wronged him. The first one with Urbanshade and their sickest excitements they did on him.

They cut him up. They shoved every kind of fish dna into him. Just because he was wrongly accused of killing people? No… they took pleasure of this. Sebastian was sure he wasn’t the only one who had to go through it. That’s why he released the rest, so they can also too get their revenge.

Whenever guards came down to try and get the crystal, Sebastian would always let his ally Painter know. Painter would hack every single camera, security system, door… whatever was hooked on the internet. He sometimes would also too give chase to those poor men and women and slaughter them in the halls. Sometimes even mocking the higher ups by using their walkies to tell them to clean up their mess.

This continued until a little small human, an expendable, came upon the site. She was scared and her teammates were going to get her killed. Pretty much it happened. He knew it after all, he’s seen it many times. When he went to give her the document of what killed her, she didn’t want to go back. Many prisoners especially expendable would keep trying… she wanted to leave. Coward. He thought but couldn’t help but feel bad for some reason, he didn’t know why. She was apart of the very organization that made him like this. What made her so special?

Sebastian met her the next time and this time in his shop. He ran down what he did and explained that he needed documents and will traded them for wares. She understood and did as planned. Heck… the woman shocked him when she afforded his whole stock. He just shook his head and told her good luck… if only he could have that luck sent… when he went to gather the items for other expendables. He saw her corpse… laid upon the floor lifeless. Whoever took her life was quick and didn’t bother cutting her up.

His heart burned. Like he lost something if value to him. Almost like a friend, a family member, maybe even…. A lover? He knew he couldn’t think of that stuff cause again, she was an amazing expendable… but something within him told him that this expendable might be of use. She’s scared, she wants to get out, she was basically forced into the roll of grabbing the crystal… she didn’t even volunteer. He smirked knowing what he can do.

The two had conversations as she came to visit and but his stuff. Countless times he would see her corpses littered amongst the floors of the site. More and more his heart hurt for her. His plan of deceiving her was running out of his head and instead… an idea where he can help he’s get out… along with everyone else.

Sebastian never told her though. He wanted to make sure she didn’t tell another expendable up top about it. When they met again she told him her name, “Victoria! But you can call me Tori for short!”

“Victoria? That’s… a normal name…”

“I know. Mom gave it to me.” She laughed.

Damn, why’d he like her? She’s weird, dumb, naiive, clumsy, and just downright bad at doing her job she was sent to do…

But he continued having those feelings for her and it just got more fierce every time she died. One day a thought ran over him… Will she love me… if I’m like this? He thought and looked upon himself. She wouldn’t love him… she would hate him. He killed many people, caused this whole shit in the first place… If he was still human.. would he have a shot? He growled and threw a hard punch to the metal wall, crushing it without fail. “I cant…” he cried, “I can’t tell her… it’ll hurt if I do…”

[mysteryloversbookshelf]

“Happily Ever Aster”

What are some of your headcanons on how some of the characters lived happily ever after? We won’t know for sure until being mentioned offhand in future seasons but it’s still fun to come up with ideas. Here is how I vision some of their happy endings. I’m putting it behind the read more in case some people still haven’t seen the season finale yet

Grace and Hannah

It’ll be weird for a minute since Edgar is dead and as terrible as he was I’m sure they’ll still have to grieve him in some way. Once that passes I see them continuing to travel together and maybe Hannah working with Grace in her antique shop. Rather than another yurt, I could see them living in a cozy cottage surrounded by more psychotropic plants. Idk if they’ll marry, but I see them adopting a baby or maybe getting a sperm donor and their baby being weird af like a mini Wednesday Addams.

Feng and Vivian

After news of Edgar’s death breaks out and people check out Kyler’s videos from the weekend, I can see a lot of people flocking to try baobing for clout but falling in love with it. They’ll get a boost in sales and Feng will end up opening even more locations. Now that he has enough money to pay off debts and etc, I see him and Vivian traveling the world together and her teaching him how to live it up. He doesn’t have to play it safe anymore so I could see him and Vivian sending Grace and Zoë pics of them both skydiving and other thrill seeking tourist stuff. Maybe offscreen Aniq and Zoë asked Vivian to help choreograph the first dance at their wedding and it turned out amazing.

Travis

Since he became the house and beat Sebastian, he can afford to fly out and visit Weronika. Does anyone remember what he does for a living? I could see him feeling inspired at actually discovering the crypto scam and taking courses so he can be a legitimate detective. Maybe he will even create an agency to help other people that have been scammed out of their crypto.

Isabel

She may not have been able to hold Edgar accountable for drugging her but she’s at least finally free. Howie is a close friend but maybe they’ll become something more at some point. With her personality I don’t expect her and Hannah to ever have a perfect relationship, but after that moment they shared while telling the mind movie, maybe they can get to a decent place. Probably not though after how she treated Grace.

Sebastian

Yeah he lost a bunch of money and was fired by Isabel, but you can’t keep a scammer like him down. He’s either about to start running cons with his cousins again or he’s going to attach himself to a wealthy older lady like Isabel and live out the rest of her life in luxury before moving on to the next one.

Aniq and Zoë

When they go see Danner in the time jump, are the rings to show that they’ve already married or are they still engaged? Either way, I don’t care to see a wedding. We’ve already been there and done that with Grace even if it did end terribly. I’m fine with seeing hilarious wedding and honeymoon photos/videos and calling it a day. It’s too bad Yasper is in prison because he would have been a really fun best man. Imagine the wedding toast 😂

Danner

Assuming season three will be the afterparty for the premiere of her movie, I hope that the person killed isn’t Jaleel White. Danner has been through enough so that would suck to do that to her character when she finally found what she wants to do in life.

Ulysses

He obviously doesn’t deserve a happy ending after trying to kill Feng. It might be too much of fan service, but the idea of him being cellmates with Yasper and them both performing together for the other criminals is hilarious to me. Knowing him, he’d probably be using his knowledge from his travels to scam the other inmates into giving him money for food and etc.

What about you guys? It would be really cool to be able to compare these headcannons to what will actually be canon in the future seasons.

[vishnu2004]

June 19 - Nara Day Trip

Today started with a hotel wake up call from none other than Mr. and Mrs. Malhotra. I told my parents the night before to call me at 8 AM because I had been waking up late the past few days. After the full morning routine, I headed down for our lecture. My shirt was very wrinkly, so Raj and I went up to his room briefly to steam it. Today, Professor Smith mentioned how we only have a couple days left in Japan. For me, this isn’t definitively good or bad. On one hand, I love Japan and will miss its food, culture, traditions, and city life dearly. On another hand, I feel as though I’ve seen or experienced everything I would’ve wanted to in this country, and having done that, I feel ready to leave Japan. I will be back, however.

On the train ride, Raj and I Airdropped each other the photos we had taken of the other. I had sent most to Raj a few days ago, so I only had a few to send. Raj had over 600. I spent most of the train ride relistening to Gunna’s new album and enjoying the view of beautiful rural farmland and greenery. Upon arriving in Nara, I grabbed some ramen with Sebastian and chatted it up. I’m so glad he’s come on this trip; as a soon to be graduate, he provides a different, valuable, and wiser perspective to all our conversations. After the delicious ramen, I grabbed some even more delicious ice cream and made my way back to the group.

I was really looking forward to seeing the deer in Nara, and thankfully, it didn’t disappoint. The deer were plentiful, kind, golden brown in color, and constantly playful. I, like most others, bought some crackers to feed the deer. They eagerly accepted my snacks, to the point where I and others became surrounded by deer in search for more and more food! Nico was even bitten by a deer while he was handing out snacks. After visiting and petting the beautiful deer, we traveled to a nice museum followed by a shrine complete with surrounding nature trails.

Being the nature fanatic I am, I walked off from the group to go on a nature trail. Naturally, I got distracted and stayed on the nature trail for longer than I should’ve. Needless to say, it was beautiful, serene, quiet, and peaceful in the best ways possible. I definitely needed that. After exploring the inner parts of the shrine, I left with Sebastian, Raj, Zander, and Nico to head back to the hotel. On the way, Raj showed off his griddy dance skills (showcased below) and I grabbed some surprisingly fantastic spaghetti and chicken from 7-11. Only $3 too!

Time for the onsen! Sebastian, Zander, Sam, Raj, Nico and I hit the local public baths together shortly after arriving at the hotel. It was nothing short of phenomenal. The experience wasn’t weird at all, and I felt so relaxed coming out of the hot-cold-hot repetition. In all honesty, I believe this experience bonded us all a little closer. For dinner, we had to try some Shake Shack (delicious btw) and head back to the hotel for some R&R.

Academic Reflection

The readings provided some additional insight into the diversity of Japan’s different Buddhist sects. Despite these differences, however, I’ve noticed and touched on how shrines share many similar physical components from the design of the entryways to the optional fortunes and donation boxes. I especially appreciate the connection between how the readings discuss the importance of peacefulness and nirvana in Buddhism and how my real life experience at the temple reinforced these principles due to the abundance of nature trails and surrounding forestry at the shrine.

Although I am not Buddhist, it makes me so happy to see the incorporation of physical nature preservation into the religion’s core principles and practices. Although somewhat abstract, I see Japanese customs like the onsen being directly related to this idea of relaxation, rest, and growth on the journey to nirvana. I believe the Japanese do a phenomenal job of making these points of access to relaxation easy for all to use.

[sweetmusingss]

I sigh softly, pouting a bit. It was painful to think back on that night but I knew it probably would still weigh on my heart. I definitely didn’t want it to but I knew it would take some time for us to both get over. “He treated me much, much worse,” I say, keeping my voice quiet so Noah couldn’t hear what I said. “He called me a slut, he cheated on me, and told me that marrying me was a mistake. You are nothing like him and I don’t ever want to hear you compare yourself to him again,” I say to you. “The best way we can move forward from this is for you to just be with me. I can feel your love and concern for me. That is more than enough for me. You fought for me and no one has ever done that before… That means the world to me.” I nuzzle my nose into your neck, wrapping my arms tightly around you and smiling when Noah climbed up on the bed with us and I heard him say ‘Mommy, I’m tired’. I pull him in between us, laying him down on the pillows and tucking him in. I had already put his pajamas on earlier. I felt my heart swell, looking back at you in surprise after Noah said. 'Good night. I love you, Mommy. I love you, Sebastian.’ That was the first time he had ever said that to you before and I was happy he was so good at expressing his feelings.

Seb’s blood was boiling as you say the awful and vile words that your ex said to you, shaking his head. “I’m officially banning Chris from watching that football team anymore. Never again.” Seb sighs as he shakes his head, feeling so angry on the inside, wishing he could get to that man and punch his lights out. Seb’s eyes widened as Noah told him that he loved him, “Aw, love you too, little man.” He leans down and kisses Noah’s head softly, before ruffling his hair. He looks back up at you with a bit of confusion, wondering if you were okay with these turn of events. He didn’t mind it at all, but he knew this meant there needed to be some sort of conversation about what Seb ws going to be to Noah.

__

Emma was reeling with unwanted jealousy when hearing that Regina had been over to your place. Emma had never been there and she wondered if there was a reason for that. Maybe you were eager to share your space with Regina but not her. And hearing you compare her to Regina just made her feel wildly insecure. She already had issues comparing herself to her 'perfect’ best friend and to hear you almost compare them too, it left Emma feeling really unsettled. “Yeah, I am nowhere near as put together as Regina. That’s me.. the straight-up mess,” she said, unable to stop herself from being self-deprecating. She finished off her wine in one big gulp, setting the empty glass down before pouring herself another glass immediately. “So, Regina has been to your place, huh?,” she said, hating how jealous and uneasy she felt at thinking about the two of you together. She couldn’t help but wonder if you might have slept with Regina too. I mean, it’s not like you and Emma were exclusive. She didn’t want that and she had made that clear to you. So, why did it make her feel so wrong to think about you and Regina together?

I frown when she calls herself a mess, shaking my head. “You’re not a mess. You’re the Sheriff... if you were such a mess, you never would’ve got elected, Emma. I don’t know Regina very well, but from the state of her office and her home and how none of her clothes ever have a wrinkle, she’s the weird one. Not you.” I smile at her, trying to lighten the mood a bit. I feel bad for talking about her messiness, feeling like she thought I was judging her when I wasn’t at all. I nod when she asks about Regina coming to mine, “Yeah, before we went out to dinner the other night before the town hall meeting. She came over and we had a glass of wine before heading out. Nothing terribly exciting. And when I first moved here, she brought me a bushel of apples... a bit odd, but a nice gesture nonetheless. You know what they say, an apple a day keeps the doctor away.” 

[xcaffeineandcuddlesx]

thank you so much @shyamanuensis for the tag !!

(go follow her ! she’s like my online idol)

here’s a snippet of what i’m working on right now ! (yes, as in currently writing as i got this) :)

a one shot, kind of. might use in a later fic.

context: ending of fifth year. mc and sebastian try to figure out how they can live with themselves and each other after the sheer amount of grief, regret, and disgust they’re feeling. mc contemplates how much the “hero of hogwarts” title is truly earned and sebastian battles with his inner turmoil after he grieves the death of his uncle and loss of his sister.

please ignore any typos or inconsistencies !

~

“please, i need you to be honest with me. am i good?… am i a good person?” his voice cracks and it’s a painful reminder that things weren’t supposed to happen as they did.

the end of our fifth year is coming too quickly to an end. the classes are becoming shorter, more of a blur as the days fade away like smoke in the wind. it’s disorientating and the disassociation we’re experiencing is weighing heavily on every aspect of our lives. most days, it’s like i’m floating through the halls, like i’m in a weird sensory deprived dream as the faces and voices turn unrecognizable, like muffled buzzing, not even sure of the day of the week. the o.w.l.s came and went, i think, and now the both of us are left wandering the castle, trying to pick up the broken pieces of our youth.

the students are ecstatic about the upcoming summer, and every mention of their plans gouges a small part of me out, carving deep until i’m hollow. i hear them talk over meals about their family’s summer houses or trips they’ve planned, the promises of exchanged owls and slumber parties. all the while, i’m being congratulated by faces i’m not even sure i’ve seen.

my first year introduced into a world of whimsy and i become the “hero of hogwarts”. most have no idea the things i had to do to earn such a title. it’s made me sick. physically, mentally, emotionally sick. the late nights, overloaded course work, expectations, favors, expeditions with classmates, watching the cruelty of poachers, raids, battles, trials, death threats from adults in full confidence of them knowing i’m only a student, the blood on my hands.

i couldn’t just stop it once i had begun. i couldn’t just return to safety behind the castle’s walls and resume classwork as though the safety of every man, woman, and child in the school, neighbouring towns, and highlands were at stake and i was the only one trusted to, expected to, come to the rescue.

i didn’t sign up for this. neither did he.

we weren’t supposed to face the world the way we did. we weren’t supposed to do the adult’s jobs, no matter how grown we believed we were. we weren’t supposed to be heroes, we were supposed to be kids.

that’s what we are; kids.

he’s just a boy. a crestfallen, scared, mournful, alone, and traumatized boy.

now isn’t the time to define what “good” means or to explain that the world isn’t comprised of black and white or “good” or “bad”, but of horribly muddied shades of grey that are entirely up to perception. he doesn’t want to hear about the intricacies of morality. he wants to be reminded he’s still capable of being loved.

i can’t possibly look at him the same way. nor can he look at me the same way. i’m nowhere near a saint, but perhaps our histories is what makes us perfect for each other. after all, the pot shouldn’t dare be the one to call the kettle black.

~

ellie, they’ve already gone through enough, can’t you just let them enjoy their last bit of school before mc has to return to the muggle world and sebastian is at a loss without any family to turn to?

no. no, of course not. there’s so much untapped emotional depth to these students and i plan to make everyone feel how gut wrenching this story should have and could have been. whump is so underrated :)

if you’ve read this far, stay happy and hydrated

tags of some authors i’ve recently enjoyed and you should check out (hopefully they’ve not been tagged already): @applinsandoranges @rosewoodcafe

xoxo ellie

WIP WEDNESDAY!

Thank you @leaswhum for the tag! I loved reading your little snippet! I can't wait for more!

Here is mine!

Diana stood at the water’s edge, her bare feet sinking into the white sand. The waves lapped at her ankles, leaving behind glowing trails as they retreated. Even the ocean itself sought to cling to her presence. She lifted a hand, fingers outstretched, and beckoned for the sea. The tide returned swirling and lapping at her ankles as though she was a part of it.

Extending her hand toward the sky, the water rose in a graceful arc that caught the final rays of the setting sun. Like liquid crystal, the water shimmered, refracting the light into a cascade of colors. A brilliant rainbow unfurled across the twilight, bridging the gap between the heavens and the sea, pulsing with hues more vivid than mere mortals could comprehend.

And then-

The rainbow exploded into thousands of shimmering stars, each droplet igniting as it drifted upward, embedding itself into the darkening heavens. The sky inhaled, and the stars settled into their place, constellations of Diana’s own making. Unique and as brilliant as her.

The sea had given birth to the cosmos.

And Ominis could do nothing but watch in reverence.

She was not yearning for riches. Not for power. Not even for love.

She was dreaming in creation.

NPT: @whalesongsblog @amethystandemma @shyamanuensis @ravenwind-75

[blackgirlsuperherorants]

Stuckys, we need to talk. Like, seriously.

I understand you're upset that Stucky is not canon in the MCU, but you have got to stop yourselves from using that fact to shit all over Black characters just because of their newfound proximity to Bucky Barnes. Seriously. No, seriously. I'm going to call a bunch of you out, now, but I hope you listen and take heed.

1) This isn't about queer representation for you. It's about Chris and Sebastian being hot white men and you wanting to see them make out on screen. And that's literally fine, who doesn't want to see that? But you need to start admitting that's what it is. Because if it wasn't about that, and it was really about queer representation, so many of you wouldn't be calling Sam Wilson "sloppy seconds", and y'all wouldn't treat both Sam and Anthony like an afterthought. Even with a lot of y'all becoming Sambucky shippers, you're doing it under the guise of Sam being some sort of consolation prize because Bucky can't have Steve. Sam has no agency, and also is treated like he isn't as good. Literally, I saw a TikTok with some girl pretending to be Bucky and Sam, and having Bucky literally tell Sam he's sloppy seconds because he can't have Steve. Literally yikes, guys.

Also, it's always girl fans who do this. I'm not saying there aren't any, but I never see gay men who are MCU fans shipping in this toxic way. And I definitely have seen gay men ship Stucky, but I swear to God there seems to be a clear difference in the way they ship vs the white girls who clearly just want to watch Chris and Sebastian make out. Literally every toxic Stucky I've ever seen who does stuff like this is a white girl. I'm not going to say no gay men are toxic fans, because there probably are some, but the amount of fans I see shitting on Sam who are white girls far outweighs any toxic Stucky gay man. Like I always say on here, Stucky is an obvious ship and I understand why people ship it, but it never had to be canon and treating it like it's the end all be all, and especially shitting on other ships like Sambucky, is really weird and, again, makes it obvious that it's not really about queer representation for you.

2) Bucky is allowed to flirt with Sarah Wilson. The same girl I saw saying Sam was "sloppy seconds" also said Bucky was only flirting with Sarah because she's an "extension of Sam", and because Kevin Feige won't let Sambucky happen so Sarah is the stand in. How insulting and sexist to insinuate that a woman is simply an extension of her male family member. No matter how you meant it, that's a really sexist notion. I've seen people make funnier jokes, like Bucky can't decide which Wilson sibling he likes, or he's going to become a Wilson one way or another. Neither of those jokes takes autonomy and humanity away from Sarah. ALSO, Sarah is a dark skinned Black woman being portrayed as desirable to the white boy fave on a major TV show that is part of the biggest film franchise in the world. I'm not sure if y'all know how much colorism effects Black women, especially dark skinned Black women. Hollywood almost never casts dark skinned Black women as desirable love interests. Especially one that isn't super modelesque with basically European features and bone straight hair. This is a positive thing for representation of dark skinned Black women, and I KNOW you've seen how happy Black girls were just seeing that 2 second interaction. How dare you reduce it to being there because Marvel stole your Stucky, and especially not because she's simply "an extension of Sam." At this point, there's no clear indication that Sarah and Bucky will literally happen, but goddamn, you can't let Black girls be a love interest for just one second? Even if you like "queer Bucky", bisexual men exist, damn. Sticking Bucky with Sharon for no reason, like they did with Steve, would have been weird and bad and you would have been more valid for questioning Marvel's motives for doing it, but letting Bucky be himself and flirt with a cute girl on a boat for 2 seconds isn't a bad thing. And if Sarah does actually become his girlfriend, it's an absolute win, and you need to let Black girls have this.

Like, I get Stucky, and I also understand wishing Marvel would just finally let any main character be actually queer. I seriously understand. But can you complain about that without shitting on the Black characters and the fans who are happy about them, right now?

I never was a fan of Stucky, because I don't think you have to have romantic feelings for someone to care about them that deeply, so I don't understand the Stucky shipper assertion that Marvel somehow stole something owed to them... but I also do understand why you ship it, and it's honestly not a bad ship. You guys just take it too far and make things uncomfortable for everyone else. And, as I've been saying for years, sometimes you make it lowkey racist. People have been shipping Stevesam since CA:TWS and you guys have downplayed it the entire time, and even used Sam as Steve's stand-in for Bucky in your fics and all of that. I remember reading fics tagged Stevesam where Steve would be having sex with Sam and then reminiscing about how it was with Bucky and wishing he were still with him, and y'all literally never saw how gross that was. Using Sam like a consolation prize. Now Steve is gone and you're still treating him like that.

And Sam and Bucky have never once treated each other like a stand-in for Steve. They treat each other like individuals with autonomy, and they even care for each other on the level that the other person needs it. It's actually really fucking good, the canon version of their relationship that's unfolded with the show. If y'all could let go of Steve for a second, literally, you would see how great Sambucky's dynamic is and that neither of them would ever see the other as "sloppy seconds" or some kind of consolation prize. It's gross.

Also, I hope Sarah gets that super soldier dick just to piss y'all off.

I'm done.

[strawberrystrangers]

Little, Teeny Crush | sebastian stan

Synopsis: Chris and Sam hook you and Sebastian up on Chris’ birthday night out, knowing you like him.

A/N: This is really rough for my first piece lol but hope you enjoy anyway. Requests are open for Sebastian Stan/Chris Evans/Tom Holland related topics. I have a few of my own story ideas I’m putting out, so if you do request bear with me.

“I honestly hope he doesn’t come,” you say, twirling the straw in your drink as a hopeful distraction. You focus on the ice cubes that circle the glass, feeling your chest pulsating at the same pace. It was June and that meant, really, only one thing: Chris demanding a night out for his birthday. You and Anthony had already planned the night, intending it as a surprise, but Chris ended up finding out and wanted to stay updated. So, now, the three of you were sat in The Wooden Crown Arms—because Chris always had an interest in British pubs—in a booth in the corner, waiting for Sebastian to arrive… Well, they were waiting, you were dreading.

     “Why?” Anthony asks, sitting opposite you and laughing. “He’s just late, what’s he ever done to you?”

     An already tipsy Chris giggles. “She has a little crush on him,” he points at you and then boops your nose. “A little, teeny crush.”

     You roll your eyes and try to suppress a laugh. “I’m gonna need a lot more to drink if I’m gonna catch up with you, Evans.”

     “A crush?” Anthony leans closer to you from across the table excitedly. “Really?”

     Before you can reply, you watch Sebastian walk through the entrance on the other end of the room. “Shut up,” you say. “He’s coming over.”

     Chris turns around but Sebastian still hasn’t seen you guys. “Oh, you mean Sebastian Stan?” He says loudly, almost falling off the seat. Anthony manages to pull him back before he completely hits the ground. 

     That’s when Sebastian sees you.

     He only looks at you first and it’s like the two of you are having some film-like slow-motion moment. But then Chris’ loud voice breaks it, and he engulfs Sebastian in a hug. You feel Sebastian still looking at you but you try and keep your focus on Anthony, too worried that you’ll blush if you look long enough. 

     “Sorry, I’m late,” he says, sitting down next to you. His thigh brushes yours and you gulp, but he seemingly ignores it, greeting Anthony across the table. “Traffic was a bitch.”

     “I think Y/N wants you to say that last part again,” Chris giggles. You widen your eyes at him and grit your teeth. Fuck.

     “Why?” Sebastian is looking right at you, obviously waiting for an answer but you can’t meet his eyes—and you see Chris staring, evidently manifesting you to look at each other.

     Still looking at Chris, you say, “My hearing is really bad in this place. I just didn’t catch it.”

     “Right,” Seb laughs in confusion. “I guess I’m gonna need a lot to drink if I’m gonna catch up with you, Chris.”

     Anthony and Chris turned to you, eyes wide at Sebastian’s similar line to yours earlier.

     “It’s a common phrase, guys,” you sigh.

     “A what?” Sebastian laughs confused again.

     “Common phrase.”

     “A common phrase?”

     “We said the same thing,” you explain. “They think it means something. I think it means Chris is too drunk already.”

     “I’m perfectly fine, Y/N! Look, it’s like this… when you have a time and you have a moment, it’s going to be pretty interesting.”

     “Chris, what the fuck are you saying?” You laugh.

     Sebastian laughs. “I’m gonna go get a drink. Anyone want another?” He looks at Anthony, who shows his full bottle, and then to Chris, and Anthony shakes his head. Then he finally looks at you, and you finally look back at him which causes your stomach to feel like a whole circus.

     “Southern Comfort and lemonade.” You smile.

     He nods and heads towards the bar. As soon as he’s out of sight, you lean across the table. “I should smack you both, what are you doing!”

     “Did you just say you’ll smack us?” Chris giggles.

     Anthony ignores Chris and says, “Trying to hook you up.”

     “You don’t even know if he’s attracted to me. Can you not put me out there when I haven’t done it myself? I can’t handle rejection. Especially not from someone as hot as Sebast—“

     “Here you go.” Sebastian sings, sliding your drink towards you. “Got you a straw too, saw you had one in your last drink.”

     In unison, Chris and Anthony shout, “Gentleman!”

     “This is so weird,” Sebastian laughs. “I love it.”

***

Chris and Sebastian are deep in conversation while you and Anthony scan the food menu for snacks. Sebastian stretches his arm across the back of the booth seat behind you—his focus still on Chris. Anthony’s eyes widen at you, face not really containing his excitement. You mouth to him to “chill out”. 

     “I need the bathroom!” Anthony bursts out abruptly. Everyone looks at him. “Yeah, I need the bathroom. Move Chris…”

     After a short moment, Chris’ phone dings and he looks at it. Then he quickly looks up, grinning at both you and Sebastian. You give Chris a look of, don’t you fucking dare leave me alone with him. But his grin only grows larger.

     “I have to go to the bathroom.”

     You sigh, “did Anthony just text—“

     “I just have to go to the bathroom. I can’t hold it any longer, I guess.” 

     And then he’s gone… leaving you and Sebastian left alone. With his arm still behind your head, he taps the seat with his fingers and you feel your heartbeat get faster. You’re getting nervous—or rather more nervous than before. You can hear his fingers on the leather so close by your ear.

     “Y/N?” He says, and you snap out of your daze. “Were you not listening?” He laughs, a smile wide on his face.

     “I don’t think I was, I’m sorry. Say that again.”

     “I was asking if you were having a good time.”

     “I’m having a great time.” You’re still facing frontwards but you notice and feel Sebastian turn his body towards you. “What about you?” You give a quick glance and then sip your drink again.

     “I’m having a good time…” he’s chuckling to himself. You can hear the leather squeaking as he’s shaking his leg. “I’m having a really good time, yeah.”

     “Seems Chris is too,” you joke.

     “Yeah,” he says. “Chris is definitely going for it tonight.”

     “Yeah…”

     “Why were they shouting my name when I first arrived?”

     You gulp and hope he didn’t hear it. “They must have seen you come in.”

     “They were facing you,” he says with a smile still on his face. “You were the one to see me. I saw you look at me and look away.” You drink faster through the straw. “Did you say something about me?” He laughs. 

     You choke as you swallow your drink, coughing and catching the attention of the other people in the bar. He rubs your back and puts a hand on your arm. “Oh my god, that was embarrassing.”

     “Are you okay?” When he asks this, you turn to him. Properly looking at him now and you wonder if you can trust yourself. While looking at him, you notice one of his collar sides is sticking up. You unfold it and caress it down so it’s in its right place.

     “Sorry,” you say overly apologetic. You completely forgot where you were for a moment. “It was bugging me. One side up. One side down.”

     He just stays smiling and shakes his head. “No problem, I liked it… I mean, I appreciated it. Appreciated it, yeah.”

     He’s looking at you in the eyes and you don’t think you’ve ever met someone who makes such great eye contact like him. It’s making you nervous again. His eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips then back to your eyes, licking his lips every now and then.

     Then you move your hands down to the hem of his top, twisting it around your fingertip to ease your nerves. “Is this okay?” You ask and he nods.

     He moves his free hand—with his other still in the back of the booth seat behind you—onto your thigh, his thumb gently caressing the inside of it. “Is this okay?” He asks and you nod. You feel your insides becoming giddy, goosebumps forming across your skin.

     Just as you think Sebastian is leaning in, Anthony approaches the table and you retract your hand from his shirt but his hand stays still on your thigh.

     “I’m gonna give Chris a ride home,” he says. “He’s gone a little bit overboard. You two good, here?”

     You nod. “Yeah, I’ll grab a cab home.”

     “We can share and split the cost,” Sebastian says. “Then we know you get home safe.”

***

The cab finally pulls up outside your apartment building, and you hesitate for a moment. The rain is pattering on the car windows and with your light alcoholic buzz, everything feels so calm and soothing.

     “You okay?” He asks.

     You want to ask him up, but you don’t want to feel rejected. Maybe you were imagining the moment in the bar?

     “I’d like that,” he says.

     You’re brought out of your thoughts, “Huh?”

     “Coming up to your apartment,” he laughs.

     “Did I say that out loud?”

     He nods, laughing. “Did you not mean to?”

     The cab driver sighs. “Look, man, this is cute and all but I’m running gas, here. Are you getting out or not?”

     Sebastian looks at you to make sure you want him to come up. You nod at him knowingly. He lets you out of the cab first before he paying the driver. When he exits, he puts a hand to the small of your back. You’re both quiet when you walk through the lobby and into the elevator—maybe it’s tension or maybe it’s just awkwardness. You’re not quite sure.

     “Which number?” He asks.

     “Oh, yeah, sorry,” you laugh. “It’s the third floor.”

     He presses the button for number 3 and stands close by your side, his hand still on the small of your back. The doors open on your floor and you walk down the hall to your apartment, Sebastian now trailing behind you instead of beside you. You put the key in the lock and turn it, open the door.

     “You’re not some secret serial killer, are you?” You ask. “Only you’re trailing behind me…”

     “I figured I’d give you some space in case you felt like you wanted to slam the door in my face and not let me in.” He says this as he’s walking through the hallway of your apartment. When he sees your couch he asks if he can sit on it and you nod.

     “Water or coffee?” You call to him from the kitchen.

     “Coffee, please, Y/N.”

     You walk into the room holding a glass of water for yourself and a coffee for Sebastian. You sit opposite him on the couch. “Tonight was fun,” you say.

     “Very fun,” he agrees, sipping from the mug. Then there’s a moment of silence. “Did you like my hand on your thigh?”

     “Did I?” You stutter nervously, taken aback by the question.

     “I should really stop making you choke, shouldn’t I?” He chuckles. “So, did you? Like my hand on your thigh?”

     “That’s a sexy way of asking for consent,” you giggle. “But I did, yeah.”

     He looks at you deeply again, and you’re getting nervous again. “Would you like it…” he moves closer to you, and you do the same.

     “I would,” you whisper.

     He places the mug on the table and rests his hand on your thigh like earlier. His thumb gently caressing the inside of it.

***

Sebastian’s hand was cold when it slid up your body to rest his hand by your collar bone, his palm flat feeling your heartbeat get faster and faster, and his wrist resting between your boobs. His other hand slipped into your underwear, finger sliding down your slit.

     “You’re soaking,” he whispered in your ear, his breath warm. A jarring difference from his cold hands. “Have you been like this all night?”

     You tilt your head back onto his shoulder. And he loves the sight, you in pleasure heaven, your neck on show for him, your body quivering back into his. “Have you been like this all night?”

     “Y-yes,” you manage to make out. “Oh, daddy, yes. All night.”

     “Good thing I came up to you, then?” He asks. “Are you glad I came up to you?” He emphasises the word “came” and he feels you clench against his finger.

     “Not yet, baby, you don’t get me inside of you yet. Just be patient, baby.”

[avintagekiss24]

Hi! I don't want to start anything on here and am always willing for civil conversations. At this point there's so much I've found out about Seb (besides the video he liked, the tommy lee thing, and the girlfriend thing) that I feel so guilty if I would continue to support him. I love him sm but it just doesn't look good rn. He is associated/follows an organisation (for helping veterans) that has posted a blue lives matter flag picture and who's co-founder has sexual assault allegations against him, and worked with him in 'The last full measure'. His friend Paul Walter Hauser has done blackface in the past, and when called out on it he just listed a few people that also did blackface. There's more, I found a discussion on here that I can link. I seriously don't support "cancel culture" bc I don't think it helps anyone but there are just a lot of 'mistakes' and shady people that can be linked to Seb, I wish it wouldn't be that way. I honestly don't know what to think about it anymore.

Hi! I’m also open to having civil conversations and I don’t believe you’re trying to start anything. I really do think this situation of dragging up a four year old video and taking it completely out of context is harmful not just to Black people, but to fandom/activism in general. This is gonna be long because I’m going to take your points one by one, and I want to preface this by saying that I will not answer any derogatory, sideways asks pertaining to this subject. I will delete every single one and will block your silly ass. I’m not going to argue with people who think I’m blindly supporting Sebastian because I’m just trying to get fucked by him, or people who think I hate myself and am trying to appease some white man.

So, on with the discourse!

The video he liked - this video was taken completely out of context and that is my main issue with this whole situation. It was not a video of a white man saying that he thinks he should be able to say the n word as everyone claimed it was. They were quickly debating on whether or not it's okay to say in rap lyrics. He was told no, that's not okay, that's never okay and they moved on from it. That's it. End of story. That somehow was twisted into a click bait style headline of "Sebastian Stan likes a video of a white man defending his right to say the n word" when that is absolutely not true. My other issue is that people are more upset that Sebastian liked the video than they are about the white man in the video literally saying the n word. So, do you really care about the use of the n word like you're claiming? Cuz if you do, you'd be more upset at the white man that said the word than you would be about the white man simply liking the video. Or, are you just using this as an excuse to grandstand against a white man you don't like?

The Tommy Lee thing - Sebastian Stan playing Tommy Lee does not make Sebastian Stan a bad person. Is Charlize Theron a bad person for playing Aileen Wuornos, a prostitute who started murdering men? Is Leonardo DiCaprio a bad person for playing a slave owner? Is Edward Norton a bad person for playing a nazi sympathizing racist? Actors play bad people. That doesn't mean that they themselves are bad people. 1990's Tommy Lee was a bad person, but that should have no bearing on who Sebastian Stan is or his character as a man.

The gf/Paul Walter Hauser thing - Why are we holding Sebastian accountable for what the people around him are doing? Again, why are we more upset that Sebastian is associated with people who have done questionable things than the specific people themselves? I'm not going to speak on the kimono wearing -- I'm not Asian. It's not my place to say whether or not its offensive because it's not my culture, but she posted that picture and attended that party before she started dating Sebastian, quite possibly before she even knew him. Same with Paul. I think that black face thing was long before he knew Sebastian. Now, if Sebastian was defending these actions, going around saying "I think it's okay for white women to wear Kimono's" "I think black face is fine" "I think white people should be able to say the n word" then we'd have a different story, wouldn't we? But that's not what we have, and that's not what he is doing. He is not responsible for the things his friends do or have done in the past just because he's more famous than they are, and he is not required to speak on them. Let's put it this way -- would you be comfortable having to be responsible for something a friend of yours did before you knew them? Would you want to have to be forced to answer for your friend when you yourself had nothing to do with the questionable behavior?

The organization that supports the military/blue lives matter - Sebastian cannot control what message that foundation puts out and it does not mean that he is or is not pro-police himself. There is not enough concrete evidence -- if any evidence for that matter -- that Sebastian is a blue lives matter supporter. Did Sebastian donate before they put up the blue lives matter post? Or after? I don’t know, cuz I don’t follow him that closely, but if he donates before they come out with a particular stance, that means he should be held accountable for that? I know I donated to an organization once and they turned out to support something that i’m 100% against. That means I’m a bad person because I couldn’t see into the future? Another point, how can we be certain that Sebastian saw the blue lives matter post in the first place? I know I’m not online 24 hrs a day, I miss posts all the time and I’m just an average person. I make three or four tumblr posts a day, and I’m gone. I have to play catch up on social media, and even then, I still miss stuff. So I’m sure the same happens to a working actor. As for the co-founder, I don't know who this person is and would rather not get into any allegations against them because I don't want to trigger anyone who comes across this post. If Sebastian knows about these allegations, is a willing participant/supporter of this person then yeah, that's pretty shitty, but we don't know the inner workings of this friendship/acquaintance/work relationship. We don’t know how close they are or if they even still speak.

I’m a pretty big fan of Don Cheadle. He’s a stand up guy, he’s a great actor, he’s funny, he’s political and stands up for what he believes in and in a very public way. I support him. Don Cheadle is also friends with Chris Evans, RDJ, Mark Ruffalo, and Letitia Wright (just to name a few). Chris Evans has a bipartisan forum that highlights/promotes right wing politicians, RDJ defended Chris Pratt during the whole “he’s the worst Chris in Hollywood” crap, who’s technically done black face, and who once said to a female reporter “nice tits” when she walked into the room, Mark Ruffalo just walked back his support of Palestine, and Letitia Wright retweeted/supported an anti-vaxxer/anti-trans Pastor who equated an ingredient of the covid vaccine to the devil because it contained some parts of the word Lucifer. Does that mean Don is now a bad person because he’s friends with these people? Why isn’t he getting any heat for his friendships with them? Why isn’t he being held accountable for what they’ve done and said? Oh right, because he’s not a white fave. So people don’t care one way or the other, which brings me to my next point. 

I can guarantee you that if Sebastian’s gf or Paul or this co-founder were not associated with Sebastian in any way, nobody would give a shit about her wearing a kimono, about Paul doing black face, or about the co-founder/organization being blue lives matter supporters and in that lies the actual problem. Being critical of people and their actions should be consistent and should happen all the time -- not just when they interact with your white fave. That’s when it becomes performative and looks like you just want to be able to show internet people that you follow/support/stan unproblematic celebrities, when really, you don’t care.

I think the moral of this post is that I think it's unfair to hold a complete stranger to a standard that I cannot hold myself to. I also don't view celebrities the way most teenagers/twenty somethings do, and that’s because when I entered fandom we didn't have social media, so I grew up with a wall between myself and said celebrities. There is no wall now with the presence of social media. "Fans" nowadays have a weird ownership feeling over celebrities because they can read their personal thoughts or view personal pictures and think that they have this personal quasi-friendship with them. I can't get on board with that. I prefer having the wall and I still keep the wall.

If supporting Sebastian makes you uncomfortable, then by all means, stop supporting him. Just make sure you are making this decision for yourself based on credible sources and concrete evidence and that you're not letting this fake woke activist mob make you feel uncomfortable. Internet activism means nothing unless you put your money where your mouth is in your real life and 90% of the social justice internet warriors do not. Real activism is bigger than changing your avi to a black square.

[mac-tirs]

look. don’t get me wrong. i like sebastian, i think he’s a talented actor and a great dude and he has wonderful chemistry with anthony. he definitely made me love bucky, and he stars in the devil all the time (one of my favourite movies ever) and all that. that being said, this picture:

combined with the caption “find your zen, fuckerzzz” is a blatant mockery of eastern religion and culture. he did NOT need to post a picture of him making an exaggerated expression towards an idol of buddha, and he did NOT need to couple it with that caption. above that, he didn’t even need to post this in the first place.

you can love and stan sebastian all you want, but that includes calling him out on the weird white bullshit he pulls. this is not a good look! it’s another western white guy, no matter how famous or attractive or kind, making light of a religious symbol native to the east.

westerners (and a lot of easterners who grew up in the west/on western media) have become so desensitised to people mocking eastern culture that most of the comments on his instagram post were supportive of him or laughing with him about this picture+caption. i myself admit that i didn’t realise how wrong this is until i thought long and hard about it. we’ve gotten so used to buddhism being turned into this lighthearted aesthetic rather than a religion that people don’t actually see what’s wrong with this.

now, since i know i’m gonna catch flack for this, i will say that i’m aware that tommy lee, the person sebastian is playing, is/was a man of buddhist faith. does this change the context of this picture? somewhat, it lends context to why he’s posing in the first place. does this change the intention behind it? no, because this was 100% meant to be joking (as i don’t believe sebastian would be the kind of guy to be malicious towards buddhists and blatantly mocking of them). does this change the fact that it’s still a disgusting mockery of buddhism? not one bit, this here is another white man making light of an eastern culture’s religion. it’s a perpetration of white ignorance.

does this mean you should stop stanning or liking sebastian? not at all! i simply believe that fans need to hold him accountable for things like these. as a POC, i’m tired of educating white people on basic shit, but i believe he didn’t have bad intentions behind this post, which changes how i feel about the situation a bit. we just need to hold our faves accountable for the shit they do.