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rafecameronsslut4ever · 2 months ago

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SO LONG, LONDON — lando norris (angst)

pairing; fem!reader x lando norris summary: a goodbye to the city that gave you everything and nothing. (and the man that gave you everything and nothing.) warnings: angst angst angst, not proofread (please lmk if something's written wrong i love you guys😓) a/n: idk how to say this but lando is the perfect person to write angst about. like dating lando would be the best time of ur life, but when its over, its enough to make u bang ur head on the wall (don't tell me to write a part 2 i cave under yall's pressure and i have my exams coming up😋)

london was known for never being quiet. but that day, the city was absolutely quiet—just a faint hum in the air of the early morning.

you dragged your suitcase behind you, its wheels clicking against the uneven pavement.

streetlights blurred in the mist, golden halos stretching like they were trying to hold you back.

it was the kind of day you used to love once.

you passed a familiar corner, pausing as its fairy lights shined through the mist. the little cafe across the street glowed warmly, even at this hour.

if you closed your eyes, you could almost hear the sound of lando’s laugh, the clink of his coffee cup against the table.

that was your place—your and lando's.

the first place he had told you he loved you.

he had said it casually, like he wasn’t giving you the most fragile part of himself to hold.

"what are you staring at?” you had teased, wiping the layer of coffee that had collected on your lips.

“you,” he said simply, eyes soft in a way that made your stomach twist. “i love you, you know?”*

you remembered smiling, biting back the emotions that swelled in you.

you'd only nodded, whispering “i know.” as if that were enough.

your phone buzzed in your pocket, breaking you from the trance. you didn't need to look at the screen to know who it was. the messages have been coming all night, one after the other, as if he had only just realised that you were leaving.

the city was awake now, slowly stirring. cabs passed by, the occasional commuter rushing past you without a glance. you leaned next to a streetlamp, looking up at the faint light of the sky.

he hates this moment, you thought. lando always hated goodbyes.

“why london?” he’d asked you once, not long after you moved there. the two of you were lying on the couch, legs tangled, his arm resting lazily over your waist.

“why monaco?” you had asked back, smirking when he groaned in mock frustration.

“not the same thing. i’m practically married to monaco,” he said.

you rolled your eyes. “okay. i guess london feels like somewhere you can build something. a life, maybe. i don't know.”

he’d gone quiet at that, staring at the ceiling.

"technically, you're a london boy." you said, breaking the silence.

"why?"

"you just give off london vibes." you stated, "like, if i was going to associate a city with you, it would be london. and anyways, london and lando are almost the same word."

you walked towards a bridge, one overlooking the thames. it was where he had kissed you that first night.

it had started pouring as you halted to a stop to stare out at the city that had given you everything and nothing all at once.

you closed your eyes, breathing the air.

it was a goodbye to london.

and for the first time, you let yourself accept that it meant goodbye to him, too.

your grip tightened on the railing, the cold stone grounding you in an unsaid way.

you used to hold lando's hand that way—tight, like you could anchor him to you, keep him from drifting out of reach.

and for a while, it worked.

but only for a while.

lando was always somewhere else, even when he was with you. his mind on the next race, the next city, the next thrill.

you had given everything you had to pull him back each time, to remind him of the two of you.

he hadn’t asked you to give him anything. not your time, your love, or the best years of you life. but that was the thing about lando—he never asked. somehow, he took without realising.

you were by his side as he flew across countries, to parties, to tracks, to houses that never felt like homes.

you poured yourself into his world until yours felt like a shadow.

there was that tiny flat the two of you shared in london—just you, him, and the possibility of something bigger. it wasn't flashy like the one in monaco, not big like the one in california.

you'd left in the night, without a word, just the hollow echo of a door closing behind you.

it wasn’t dramatic. there was no fight, no dramatic crying. just the dull ache of his absence, like he’d slipped through yours fingers when you weren't looking.

you had hoped that he would ask you to give a reason. that he’d say something. but he didn’t.

lando got all of you. all the bright, reckless moments that you'd never get back.

a couple jogged past you on the bridge, heatedly bickering as they continued down their path.

a few days before the breakup, lando and you had gotten into an argument.

you were sitting on the couch, arms wrapped around your knees, staring out at the blurred lights of the city.

he was pacing, the way he always did when he was restless.

“i don’t get it,” lando muttered, running a hand through his hair. “you’re acting like everything’s falling apart. like i’m the problem here.”

you looked at him, shaking your head. “you are the problem, Lando. you’ve been the problem for weeks now, and i’m fucking tired of it.”

his face hardened, a flash of irritation crossing his features. “you always do this. you make everything about me.”

"i always do this?" you stood abruptly, scoffing. "are you being serious? you think i'm making everything about you? what about me, huh? you’ve been distant for months, pulling away every chance you get. i’ve tried—tried—to fit myself into your world, to make it work."

he shook his head, “you’re always looking for the exit, aren’t you?”

“don’t fucking do that. don’t try to make this my fault,” you snapped back, voice harsh.

his jaw tightened, knuckles white where he gripped the back of the chair. “you want me to pretend like it’s not? you know what this life is like. you know what i am like.”

your stomach twisted, head shaking slowly. “do you even hear yourself? do you even see me anymore?”

he threw his hands in the air with an exasperated sigh. “you always try to make yourself the victim, don’t you? like you’re the only one who’s losing something here.”

“losing something?” you repeated, voice cracking. “lando, i gave up everything for you. everything! i left my life, my friends, my family. i waited in airports, sat alone at tables, smiled when I didn’t feel like smiling, all because i thought we were building something real. and for what? for this? for you to keep drifting away? fuck, i’m tired of pretending that it’s enough to just be near you when you’ve already checked out a long time ago.”

the words hit him like a blow to the stomach, harsher than you wanted them to be. for a moment, he freezed.

you saw it—the flicker of guilt, the realisation that maybe, just maybe, you were right. but he just stood there, the weight of the argument pressing down on both of you, suffocating the room.

that was the moment. the shot that fired without either of you realising it.

and then there was the night you had walked into his monaco apartment late, after a dinner with the wags. it was well past midnight.

he was on the couch, sprawled out in the dim light coming from the glass balcony, an empty bottle of beer resting on the floor beside him.

“lando?” you asked softly, setting your bag down.

his head turned lazily, eyes bloodshot but focused on you in a way that made you suck in your breath.

“you’re abandoning the ship, aren’t you?” he slurred, the words cutting even through his inebriated speech.

“what?” you whispered, taken aback.

“you’re never there anymore,” he muttered, sitting up unsteadily. “no races. no paddock. you don’t want to be with me. you’re... you’re not leaving, right?”

you froze. the irony was almost laughable. how could you be abandoning the ship when you were the silently one going down with it?

“i’m here, lando,” you said finally, your voice tight.

but he didn’t reply. he just shook his head, leaning back against the cushions as if continuing the conversation was too much for him to bear.

you turned away, retreating to the kitchen under the guise of fetching water. but really, it was to hide the way your hands trembled, how your chest ached with a sadness too big for words. you weren't abandoning the ship, fuck, you were going down with it.

now, standing on the bridge in the pouring rain, the memory felt distant, but it still left the same sting. you hadn't even realised how long you’d been standing there, the chill seeping into your weary bones.

the rain made you shiver, wet through your clothes, and you decided it was best to find warmth before heading to the airport. a small cafe caught your eye, its dim yellow lights asking you to enter.

you chose a seat by the window, your damp reflection staring back at you. but as you stared at yourself, another memory tugged at you, pulling you under.

in vegas, the paddock was loud, buzzing with the usual hum of race day, but to you, it was deafening in a way that wasn’t about noise.

kym illman had been snapping photos of the everyone, and when he got to lando and you, he told you both to 'appear more in love'—arms around each other, eyes set on one another, and smiles for the cameras.

but the second kym turned his back, lando stepped away, his expression blank as he moved towards the crew. no glance back, no acknowledgment of you still standing there.

he’d left for the track that morning without so much as a goodbye, and now he didn't even stand by your side for more than a moment.

hours later, you’d see the tiktoks. people talking about the way he pulled his arm away, the way his smile seemed forced. you trended for all the wrong reasons as strangers pieced together the cracks in your relationship from nothing more than a video captured from another angle.

you wished they were wrong. but they weren’t.

and the same truth had lingered that night at dinner. a dinner meant to be casual, a chance to reconnect with friends, but the moment he left the table, you knew it was over.

he’d said he needed to step out for a minute. then it became ten. twenty. eventually, max texted his girlfriend, explaining that the boys had gone to play golf because lando had suggested it.

so you sat there, at a table full of people you barely knew, the laughter and conversation swirling around you. pietra smiled at you once or twice, but it was still never enough to make you feel like you fit in, because you truly didn't.

when the check came, you paid your share quietly and walked back to his apartment alone, heels clicking against the empty streets. you realised you couldn’t keep doing this; couldn’t keep holding onto someone who didn’t want to be held.

there was so much love before everything had turned bitter.

when lando would call you after races, his voice bright and full of life, swearing he loved you like it was the easiest thing in the world. he’d leave you voice notes in the middle of the night, reminders that he was thinking of you even when you weren't there.

his parents used to joke about the two of you getting married, and it wasn’t just them. his friends would tease him, and he’d grin, pulling you close like he couldn’t imagine a future without you.

for a while, you believed it too. you’d pictured it—the altar, the vows, the life you’d build together.

but then, it all changed.

you started waiting for proof that he still loved you, that the spark you once shared wasn’t gone for good. but then the waiting slowly drained you, bit by bit.

and just like that, it was over.

lando and you had a good run—a fleeting moment in life that felt like sitting under the warm sun on a chilly winter morning.

but it ended just as quickly. clouds rolled in and the london rain took over to make you realise that you weren't the one for each other.

one gun dug two graves.

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eksvaized · 9 months ago

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Part Twenty [ Previous 〡 Next ] taglist: @kingsprettyangel, @simonsslvt, @herwristsarehercanvas, @the-faceless-bride, @ghostieslove, @bbypionaa if you want to be added - let me know!

A/N: the updates on all my stories are slow because of uni the exam season is killing me >.< but once i'm done with it, i plan on posting more frequently!

You stare at the white ceiling. The light blanket draped over your body feels like a suffocating weight that’s pressing down on you. Yet, you lack the strength or mental energy to peel it away. As you lie there, it’s hard to believe that you’re back in this house, back in this room - your room.

When you first woke up, you had thought you would spend the rest of the day crying. But now, the reality of your return, the fact that you didn’t escape, that you’re back where you started, seems oddly natural. It’s as if you had always been caught in this relentless cycle and the brief moments of freedom were just cruel illusions. Of course, you didn’t escape Simon’s grasp. How could you? And for what reason did you even dare to dream of running, when your fate had already been sealed?

A chilling realisation settles heavily on you: deep within, you always knew that you weren’t going to make it too far away. The thought of escape was nothing more than a tantalising mirage that kept you going.

You sink deeper into the mattress, and your thoughts drift to Johnny, his memory filling the empty spaces of your room. His belongings, once scattered haphazardly here, are now all gone. The lack of his familiar presence, the void where he once existed, suggests that he’s probably been banished as well. Simon knows he can trust his friend. Yet he likely doesn’t want Johnny around you anymore. His presence is too dangerous for you. It sparks rebellious thoughts, ignites dangerous ideas that should have just remained as silly fantasies in your silly little head.

Simon occasionally comes into the room. Each time he appears, he brings you a meal: breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He always places the neatly arranged tray on the nightstand. However, your appetite fails you every time and you never reach for the food. The meals, untouched, grow cold and then Simon, without saying anything, takes it all away.

You had thought that Simon would grow furious with your refusal to eat. Despite his seemingly calm demeanor, you braced yourself for the moment he would finally snap and unleash his pent-up frustration the moment you dared to meet his gaze. You imagined him yelling, maybe even resorting to physical violence, then dragging you to the basement to be shackled and left alone on the lumpy mattress. However, contrary to your expectations, his interactions with you are limited to occasional curt commands. He orders you to eat, to go shower, to change clothes. Sometimes you comply, sometimes not.

Day after day passes, each blending seamlessly into the next. From the confines of your bed, curled up into a tight ball and clutching your pillow, you watch the sunrises paint the sky with hues of pink and orange. A haze of sleep consumes you, pulling you into its depths and then pushing you back to reality, though every time you wake, you still feel an overwhelming sense of fatigue that never seems to lift.

Time becomes a blur, its passage marked only by the changing light outside your window. You can’t tell if only a few days, a long grueling week, or perhaps a full month has passed since Johnny found you in the forest. But the truth is, you don’t really care. What’s the point? What’s the point of caring, of trying, of devising potential escape plans when you feel the hopelessness seeping into your every pore?

There are moments when you catch yourself questioning your own sanity. What if you really do have a delusional disorder? What if you fabricated all those terrifying scenarios about Simon kidnapping you and forcing you to stay with him? Everything seemed to point in that direction. After all, when you mustered the courage to make an escape attempt, his reaction, when you were brought back home, was far from the explosive rage that you had predicted.

Instead of a storm, there was a surprising calmness, an almost passive acceptance that rocked your preconceived notions. His demeanor was mild, oddly gentle, and this discrepancy led you to question the authenticity of your own perceptions. It was as if a mirror was held up to the distortions of your own mind, casting doubts about the reality you thought you knew.

Simon himself was constantly proving to be nothing more than a caring and soothing presence. His actions were always considerate, his words tender and comforting. This gentle behavior conflicted with the image of the captor you had created in your mind, leading to further self-doubt. You found yourself wrestling with your own thoughts, trying to convince yourself that perhaps, just perhaps, you were indeed fabricating all of these disturbing scenarios.

* * *

Simon has reached his breaking point. The relentless sulking, the constant gloom, the oppressive atmosphere that hangs in your bedroom like a shroud - it’s unbearable. Each day is a mirror image of the one before: he’d make his way into your room, anticipation gnawing at him, only to find you in the exact same position in which he had left you, sprawled out on the bed in an almost lifeless manner, neglecting food and water, your gaze fixated on the wall, staring blankly as though you were lost in a world far beyond anyone’s reach.

So, on one evening, Simon decides to take matters into his own hands. He isn’t going to stand by and watch any longer. He is going to do something, anything, to bring back the light that once twinkled in your eyes.

Simon enters your room, cradling a bottle of what appears to be an extremely expensive bourbon, its golden liquid glinting under the soft evening light. His brows are furrowed in determination, a silent testament to his resolve.

He carefully places the bottle on the nightstand, accompanied by two gleaming glasses. “We are going to drink,” he declares, but you don’t say anything. You raise your chin up and just stare at him. Your gaze empty.

He studies you, his eyes shimmering with a complex cocktail of concern and firm resolution, before he reaches out for your hand. With a gentle yet firm tug, he pulls you out of the bed, making you stand. As you do, your gaze falls upon your own reflection in the mirror that hangs on the wall. You stumble, taken aback by your appearance.

You are still clad in the same clothes you had on when you left the house. The fabric is uncomfortably sticking to your skin, chaffing at the edges. This realization sparks a sudden urge within you to shed it all off. However, you remain frozen because you aren’t alone in the room.

Simon approaches you once more, this time presenting you with a fresh set of underwear, a fluffy white towel, and a pair of shorts along with a shirt.

“Go shower,” he instructs in a tone that brooks no argument. Although a part of you, the part that’s grown comfortable with the cocoon of sadness, wants to shake your head in refusal and retreat back to the bed, you decide that a quick shower wouldn’t do any harm. It might even serve as a much-needed break from the tumult within.

As you make your tentative way out of the room, you catch a fleeting glimpse of Simon’s silhouette against the window, managing to open it despite the lack of a handle. Once the window is cracked, inviting a breath of fresh, untainted air in, he proceeds to methodically peel off all the sheets from your bed, preparing it anew.

You spend a while standing under the scalding hot water. The warmth washes over you, blanketing you in a comforting heat that seems to momentarily suspend the world outside. The luxurious, expensive, fruity smelling gels that Simon has purchased for you are ignored, lined up against the wall of the shower. You simply don’t have the energy to slather your skin with them. However, you make a conscious effort to untangle the knots in your hair, running your fingers through the strands repetitively.

When you come back into the bedroom, Simon is sitting on the bed. Your bed is adorned with crisp, clean sheets, and on the nightstand, next to the bottle and two glasses, there’s a bowl with some steaming hot soup. The aroma wafts through the room.

“You can’t drink on an empty stomach,” he says in a tone that suggests he’s more stating a fact than offering an opinion. If you had the energy, you would no doubt argue with him, insisting that you have no intention of drinking or eating. But instead, you only manage to sit down next to him, the exhaustion preventing any form of protest.

When you make no move to reach for the bowl, Simon takes the initiative. He cradles the dish in his hands and begins to feed you. You allow him to. When a stray droplet of soup trickles down the corner of your mouth, he gently wipes your chin with his thumb, an act that is both comforting and strangely intimate.

There’s a part of you that wants to ask why he’s being so patient, so considerate with you. In fact, myriad questions are swirling in your foggy head, each one demanding an answer. But the haze clouding your mind is so thick, so dense, that formulating even a single coherent sentence feels like scaling a mountain.

Simon insists you finish the entire bowl of soup, meticulously ensuring that not a drop is left before he finally puts it away. As he proceeds to unseal the bottle that has been sitting on the nightstand, you find your eyes inadvertently drawn to his hands, noticing the rough, hardened callouses that adorn his fingers.

“Drink,” another command slips past his lips and he passes you a glass filled to the brim.

You gaze tentatively at the glass. The liquid inside shimmers under the soft glow of the room’s light. You hesitate. You don’t want to drink. However, you know that Simon, with his stubborn persistence, won’t back off or leave you alone until you do. So, with a heavy sigh, you bring the glass to your lips and take the first, small sip, instantly feeling the harsh sting of alcohol as it trickles down your throat, searing every inch it touches.

You hope that after the glass is finished, the alcohol will make you drowsy, lulling you into a deep slumber. After all, it seems that’s all you seem to do these days. Sleep.

However, when your glass finally drains, reaching its anticipated emptiness, instead of the expected heaviness or sense of dread, your eyes unexpectedly widen, and you find yourself becoming more alert. After enduring days of feeling emotionally numb, hollow inside, akin to an empty shell thoughtlessly discarded on a deserted, lonely beach, you feel an unfamiliar warmth spreading gradually throughout your body. This sensation is new, yet not unwelcome.

And then, when Simon, seemingly satisfied with your compliance and perhaps even relieved, nonchalantly turns on the TV, randomly selecting some film to fill the room with some background noise, you find yourself giggling as you watch the screen.

You don’t know why you are laughing or why you keep extending your arm towards Simon, wiggling your glass every time it empties, but you do.

Simon, with a careful vigilance, keeps an eye on you from the periphery of his vision. Matching your pace, he drinks as much as you, if not slightly more, but he is not nearly as drunk as you. Just a bit tipsy. He knows that getting drunk with you is far from the wisest decision he could make. But he quiets his mind, trying to convince himself that you won’t do anything reckless. After all, the bottle was only uncorked after he was fully convinced that you had no intentions of trying to run away again.

After Johnny brought you back, Simon was relieved. Ecstatic, actually. The thought of you, alone in the dark, lost and frightened, was a horrifying prospect that had Simon on the brink of tearing his hair out in sheer anxiety. It felt like a thousand icy needles were piercing his heart. In fact, the notion of you in danger was so excruciating, it made him want to raze the entire forest to the ground until he found you.

He had initially steeled himself, preparing to unleash a storm of admonishment, to let you taste the bitter regret of your impulsive decision to venture outside the safety of the house. After persuading Johnny to leave, under the guise that your condition had worsened, and you needed to recover in a safe environment devoid of any agitation, he stationed himself in your room, sitting by your bedside, watching over you, waiting for your eyes to flutter open so he could mete out the punishment he believed you deserved.

But when you woke up, something was amiss. Simon immediately noticed it. At first, he thought you were simply sad, but there were no tears to confirm his suspicion. No other emotions were evident on your face, either. The vacant stare you wore, the long, empty days you spent lying in bed, refusing to eat, and merely gazing aimlessly out of the window, filled him with an unsettling, gnawing fear. He longed for some kind of reaction from you, any indication that the person he knew was still there, beneath the facade of emptiness. He reasoned that perhaps you needed time to process everything, so he gave you space. Yet, even that didn’t seem to help.

During the times when his emotions would threaten to consume him, when his mind would be bursting at its seams with a relentless onslaught of thoughts, or when he felt the crushing, suffocating emptiness that seemed to envelop him, as though the bullet that had merely grazed him had instead ended his life, he would seek solace in the comforting burn of the most expensive bourbon he could find in the store. He would drink until his mind was blissfully quiet, until he lost consciousness, in the hopes that the morning would bring relief, and the horrors of the previous day would feel like a distant, unpleasant dream from which he had finally awoken.

“Hello? Earth to Simon,” you call out, playfully nudging his shoulder with the tip of your index finger. A lazy smile plays on the corners of your lips. “Are you falling asleep on me—yes, yes, you are!” you exclaim, your laughter bubbling up from deep within your chest. The sound of your giggles fills the room. You sink deeper into the bed and finish the last of your liquor. “You are such a lightweight,” you tease, your voice slightly slurred from the alcohol. Unexpectedly, a hiccup slips past your lips, causing your giggles to escalate into full-blown laughter.

Simon raises his eyebrows. His eyes twinkle with mild amusement and a hint of disbelief. His gaze is fixed on you. It takes him a moment to register your words, but then he shakes his head and smiles. Genuinely, smiles. A feeble grin spreads across his face, accompanied by the gentle crinkling of his eyes at the corners.

#simon riley x you #writing #simon ghost riley #ghost x y/n #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty #ghost x you #ghost cod #cod #ghost call of duty #cod ghost #fem!reader

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troped-fanfic-challenge · 4 years ago

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JATP ROUND ONE FICS!

We received FOURTEEN (14!) mythical angsty coffee-filled Fics for the First Round of the 1st JATP TROPED Event! These fics were super creative, and we loved to see how you all challenged yourselves with the theme, tropes, and pairings!

Please try to read as many fics as you can, take some notes, leave some kudos/comments for the authors, and get ready to help us vote on the winners!

Voting will begin on Monday, April 26th at 12:00am EST and end Wednesday, April 28th at 11:59pm EST.

————

the sky was gray and white and (cloudy) (Rated T) [Alex x Willie]

Summary: “I’ve got you,” Willie’s whispering over and over, panic creeping into his voice. “Alex, I’ve got you, okay? Come on, baby, come on, it’s okay, I’ve got you, you’re gonna be okay, I love you--”

Alex spits out what feels like a clot of blood and gives Willie a tired grin, probably looking completely insane.

“That’s pretty gay of you,” he says, just as his vision clouds over and he passes out.

Honey, You're Familiar (Like My Mirror Years Ago) (Rated T) [Julie x Luke]

Summary: Luke works at a coffee shop, which is normal, quietly pines after his coworker, which is normal, and also occasionally steals people's faces without really meaning to.

It's probably that last part that moves him pretty solidly out of the "normal" territory.

But that's fine, that's totally cool.

He's handling it super well.

You Can't Value People Less Than a Good, Hot Cup of Bean Juice (It Just Seems Rude) (Rated T) [Julie x Luke]

Summary: Julie gets a job at a coffee stand in the middle of nowhere.

It'll help to pass the time, if nothing else.

And if there's a cute guy who works the shift after her and sometimes leaves her ridiculously endearing messages on an ancient tape recorder?

Well, that's just a bonus.

honest to god I’ll break your heart, tear you to pieces and rip you apart (Rated T) [Julie x Luke]

Summary: Julie wakes up with a start. Her hair is stuck to her face with sweat and there is a loud crashing noise. The sheets beneath her feel rough against her skin. She shivers, when a breeze meets her naked skin. She must have left the window open when she went to bed last night. She opens her eyes. The room is dark around her, but the glow in the dark stars, she stuck on her ceiling when she was a kid, are shimmering brighter than ever before.

or: the siren!Julie AU no one asked for

new instincts (Rated T) [Luke x Reggie]

Summary: Reggie is fine with being the only human member of his band, Julie and the Phantoms (tell your friends!), just like he’s fine with being the only single member. It doesn’t make him feel lonely, and he’s only picking up more shifts at the coffee shop because he needs more money, not because he’s avoiding being alone. And picking up more shifts at the coffee shop is making the work easier! He’s only a little confused by the fact that he can now touch the espresso machine mid shift without burning himself… must be all of the experience.

you look like you've just seen a monster (is that what i look like to you?) (Rated T) [Bobby x Alex x Luke x Reggie]

Summary: When Bobby woke up that Friday morning, he wasn’t expecting to have horns. Who would? There was absolutely no reason to expect horns to just start growing out of his temples, but there they were anyway.

He stared in silent shock at the little nubs in the mirror. They were only an inch or two big, but pointy and a little fuzzy when he poked at them.

Well, at least they weren’t fully grown yet.

(or: it's angsty tiefling bobby time, folks!)

We Are Monsters, We Are Proud (Rated G) [Flynn x Carrie, Julie x Luke]

Summary: The clock is striking thirteen

It's time to scream your team

We don't have to say goodbye

'Cause friends like these will never die

Carrie finds herself at a college like no other in search of her dad and some answers.

Julie's not feeling good and maybe staring at roses wasn't the best idea.

Monster College/Coffeeshop AU

sending forth their beautiful voice, and my heart was fain to listen (Rated G) [Julie x Carrie]

Summary: Months after the death of her mom, Julie prepares to sing again and makes an upsetting discovery.

rise from the ashes (Rated M) [Alex x Willie]

Summary: At a time when everything was going wrong for Alex, the one bright spot in his life was the charming barista at the coffee shop he frequented. At least, it was the bright spot until everything went up in flames. All he could do was hope that they could rise from the ashes and figure things out together.

Siren's Song (Rated T) [Ray x Rose]

Summary: The Scopuli was never meant to be a permanent arrangement. Rose had taken the job straight out of school just looking to make a little extra money before the tour kicked off.

That was four years ago.

After a string of bad luck befalls Rose and the Petal Pushers, she can't help but wonder if she is the problem. Or is there something more sinister at play?

Yellow (Rated T) [Julie & Reggie]

Summary: Reggie picked up his apron and polo. Julie returned, this time hiding behind Alex. He held a pair of metal pastry tongs out in front of him like a weapon. One of his arms was extended protectively in front of Julie.

“Alex, Julie, what are you doing?” Reggie cleared his throat; his voice was deep and gruff, like he was developing a cold.

Julie and Alex startled. Julie glanced down at her nametag. Alex readjusted his footing and his grip on the tongs.

“What’s going on, guys?”

Alex took a deep breath. “I don’t know who you are, dude, but you have got to leave.”

Reggie just wanted to get some new guitar strings. A shapeshifter!Reggie au

Angels Like You (Rated T) [Luke x Reggie]

Summary: Reggie is having a bit of a weird day. It gets worse when he figures out that it's because he died in his sleep and has somehow been walking around as a ghost without realising it. Meeting Luke helps. Luke says he's a fellow ghost, and there is something about him that Reggie just feels drawn to. Falling for him is the easiest thing Reggie has ever done, but Luke is a little more than he lets on, and it turns out that their story actually started long before Reggie thought it did.

look into my eyes (it's where my demons hide) (Rated T) [Flynn x Carrie]

Summary: Hiding out from demons was never a desirable nightmare. Of course, Carrie would much prefer a run-for-my-life nightmare than actually running for her life. Having Flynn around is a very welcome soothing balm, though.

Bring All The Monsters Out To Play, Let All The Red Erase The Grey (Rated T) [Bobby & Reggie]

Summary: Mythologicals, Reggie realised, were kind of like queer people. Sometimes your Token Human friend turns around one day and admits that actually, there was something they were suppressing all along, and they hadn’t realised.

Reggie’s final exam has been pushed forward at the most inconvenient time. Bobby is sick, Alex is missing, and now he needs to help a selkie get their ‘Happily-Ever-After’ in order to scrape a passing grade. Oh, and if his boss catches him handing out more free coffee, he’s gonna get fired.

#troped: jatp #round 1: angst #jatp fanfiction #submissions #round 1 submissions

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hedwigstalons · 4 years ago

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High Expectations - Ch23

Yes, this fic is still being written. No, it is not abandoned despite the *gulps* month since that last chapter went out.

@willow-salix has been her usual amazing self with the editing (and extra amazing for helping me through the stuff that has contributed to the huge gap in writing).

Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Twenty-One , Twenty-Two

AO3 chapter link

Chapter Twenty-Three

Thwack

Virgil’s eyes tracked the arc of the baseball as it made another short journey up towards the ceiling before landing in Alan’s waiting hands.

Thwack

He gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the teen sprawled on his back on the couch. He knew Alan was only doing it to annoy him having been told he couldn��t start another game with the arrival of John imminent but it was taking all his willpower not to snap, he didn’t have the energy for the argument Alan was obviously spoiling for. As soon as the missing sibling turned up they would be settling down for dinner and Virgil had decided he would rather deal with a bored Alan than try and drag him away from whatever virtual world he was immersed in when the time came to eat. Except the expected ten minutes had already ticked closer to an hour and John still hadn’t appeared.

Thwack

It didn’t make the actions of his brother any less annoying in the meantime. It certainly didn’t help that he had a test to study for. Where had Alan even managed to get a baseball from in the first place?

Thwack

The door to the small apartment he shared with John clicked open and Virgil audibly sighed with relief as his immediate younger brother finally showed up. He closed up his books, giving the page a baleful glance as he did so; he hadn’t taken in a word in the last half hour and knew time was running out.

“Fiiiiiinally.” Alan caught the ball with one last thwack and sat up, popping the ball on the seat next to him. “Virg said you would be back by six.”

“Sorry,” John looked sheepishly at the clock that was now ticking closer to 7pm, “I got held up on campus but I treated us to take out take out to make up for it.”

Alan’s eyes lit up at the prospect of food. Delicious smells were wafting from the paper bag John carried and his stomach rumbled. Take out was a rare treat, hell, even eating in company was a rare treat; their father was increasingly slipping back into bad habits and didn’t often make it back in time for dinner. Since his shift to online school he could sometimes go three or four days without seeing another human being unless he ventured out of the apartment, it was one of the reasons he could be found so frequently on John and Virgil’s couch.

“What have we got, Chinese?” Alan asked.

“No, Thai. There is a nice little place two blocks away that does an amazing spicy shrimp soup and their pad thai is pretty decent too.”

“You went to the Mango Tree?” Virgil’s mood lifted at the prospect.

“Yes, I went to Mango Tree. Don’t expect me to do this every time, I just thought you could do with a pick me up seeing as exams are on the horizon and I don’t think we’ve introduced Alan to it yet. Plus, I’m late.” he said, placing the bag on the table on his way past to the kitchen.

The Thai place, a little gem they had discovered within their first month at Tracy College, had become a firm favourite but one reserved for special occasions, or apologies in the case of tonight. Virgil was quick to clear away his files to make space on the table that was currently doubling up as a desk and by the time John returned with an assortment of spoons, forks and chopsticks, the containers were already laid out.

Alan wandered over to claim his place between his two siblings, feeling guilty at the reminder that Virgil was meant to be studying for exams. He knew his actions had been irritating, he’d even been deliberately varying the gaps between his throws so Virgil couldn’t get used to the rhythm, but he was bored and it hurt that yet another person couldn’t be bothered to show up when they were meant to.

"So how are you getting on with freight transport law?" John asked between slurps of his soup.

"Slowly," Virgil growled, casting a frown towards Alan who at least had the good grace to look shamefaced.

The interaction didn’t pass unnoticed by John who directed his own frown at Alan. While the other brothers had, in turn, taken on the holistic care of Alan, John was more focussed on his education, especially knowing Alan’s determination to head into space one day. Finding out that Alan had transferred to online school had been a surprise but to find out it had followed a bout of truancy had left him furious. He wasn’t prepared to let Alan screw up his education and he certainly wasn’t going to let him drag Virgil down either, he knew this exam had been weighing heavily on his brother’s mind and the last thing he needed was unnecessary distractions.

“Didn’t you have any work to be getting on with?” John asked the recalcitrant teen.

Alan tried to stare John down but found that his most introverted sibling had learnt to hold his own under scrutiny, at least where family were concerned. He dropped his gaze on the pretext of picking a piece of chicken out of his pad thai and tried to sound nonchalant. “I’m ahead of myself so I took the day off.”

“That’s no reason to disturb others, Virgil and I both have some key exams coming up and you need to respect that if you want to keep coming here. And anyway, there’s no such thing as being ahead of yourself on your study programme, I know you picked one that lets you submit work at any time and complete your diploma at whatever pace you want.”

“Was hoping you’d be here,” the voice was small and dejected, all the fight gone before it could properly build. He didn’t really want to argue with his brothers but sometimes it felt like the only way to be noticed was by challenging authority. He was never going to win a gold medal, unlikely to win a scholarship and certainly wasn’t going to get military honours. With those more admirable routes to gaining attention taken away from him that just left being a problem; he had to remember that his brothers were not like his father and he could actually talk to them without needing to be summoned first.

John watched Alan visibly wilt under his gaze, crushed by the force of his disapproval and it took a moment for the words to sink in. The others had occasionally joked about Alan being his shadow or asked what it was like to be up on a pedestal but he usually shrugged it off. Now, hearing that simple hope voiced with such longing John was reminded that it wasn’t entirely a joke, that of all of them Alan strived for his attention and approval the most and with that came great responsibility.

“I know and I’m really sorry. The guy leading the seminar today was an expert in broad spectrum communication arrays and I wanted to run some ideas by him. I’ve been working on some theories on multi-frequency monitoring and didn’t know when I would get another chance to talk to him.” He paused, realising he was babbling in his attempt to make Alan see that this had been important, that he hadn’t wanted to be late and really did care. But Alan didn’t need his excuses, what he needed was his brothers. He took a sip of water and refocused his attentions. “Look, I don’t have any classes until 12 tomorrow so we can do something together in the morning. In the afternoon you can either stay here and do your own work or come with me and sit in on my lectures.”

“It’s not freight law is it? Cos that stuff sounds dull as anything.” He knew John was trying to make up for being late home and ordinarily he would have jumped at the chance to gatecrash some lectures but he was still hurting and not ready to forgive him so quickly. “I really don’t get why Virgil is even getting his space licence anyway, let alone for transport pilot.”

Both John and Virgil decided to ignore that comment. Alan had grown up a lot lately but they both knew he had always viewed space as the personal domain of himself and John and was still prone to the occasional flare of jealousy that Virgil was getting space rated too, seemingly on a whim. The news of Virgil’s first trip into orbit had been greeted with a flare of temper that saw Alan rejecting all calls for a week.

“I don’t have to take that one, although I do have a few units of my own I could do without. No, tomorrow is nutrition and physiology.” He noted the eye roll that suggested Alan wasn’t enthused with those topics either. “There’s no need to decide now, just see how you feel tomorrow, but you can’t spend all afternoon on video games , if you stay home you’ll need to get some school work done or Dad might stop you from staying over.”

Alan knew that was an empty threat. As long as he kept turning in grade cards at regular intervals and was on track to finish his diploma no later than if he had been in school then he was fairly confident their father wouldn’t even think of banning the trips to Kansas. If anything he seemed to be keen to have Alan out of town as much as possible as his overseas business trips became more frequent.

The prospect of getting to spend at least the following morning with John lifted Alan’s mood considerably and the rest of the meal passed without incident.

xoxoxox

John quietly pushed open Virgil’s door. The light spilled out, momentarily lighting up the tousle haired figure on the couch before it was blocked by John as he quickly slipped inside, leaving the door ajar behind him. He took in the piles of notes on the desk and the bucket sized mug beside them, now empty of the coffee he knew it would have contained.

“Anything I can help with?” he asked, perching on the edge of the bed that really ought to be occupied already.

Virgil spun his chair around. “No, thanks, it’s not difficult, just tedious.”

This was something John could empathise with. While they each had a different specialism and focus to their course, both had encountered topics that less than thrilled them; for Virgil freight transport law was a topic he was unable to feel enthusiastic about but it was a necessary component to his studies.

“Working through the night isn’t going to help.”

“I need to make up the time, I didn’t get much studying done earlier.”

“Alan?” John rolled his eyes in a way that suggested this was a statement rather than a question. The attitude over dinner had shown that Alan had been in a bad mood and he knew that Virgil was too soft to just put the teen in his place.

Virgil nodded then yawned, space law wasn’t a thrilling topic at the best of times and his focus was distinctly wavering. The effects of the coffee were wearing off and, much as he would like another, the coffee maker was loud and he didn’t want to risk waking the teenager currently sleeping in their living area.

“Why didn’t you just work in here?” To John it made absolutely no sense that his brother had set up at the dining table when he had a perfectly good desk in his own room where he could have gotten on with his work in peace as he was doing now.

“Couldn't you feel how much he wants our attention? He may have been a pain in the ass but I couldn’t disappear and ignore him when he’s only just got here. I’ve got time. The exam isn’t ‘til Thursday, I can study once he’s asleep.”

“Not tonight you aren't ,” John frowned as yet another yawn escaped his sibling, “and you haven’t been ignoring him, Alan said you took him flying this morning. Have you gotten any studying done today?”

“Not enough,” Virgil groaned, casting another glance at the scribbles on permitted loads and which cargoes needed to be registered with the Space Authority prior to launch. While his study time may have taken a hit he didn’t regret taking his youngest brother flying, the pure joy Alan exhibited while in the air was a world away from the loneliness he had confessed to on the ride back from the airfield. “But at least Alan still wants to talk to me.”

“Still nothing from Scott?” John sighed. He could see how much the growing distance between his two oldest brothers was preying on Virgil’s mind; freight transport law really didn’t stand a chance.

“Nothing worth mentioning.” He raked a hand through his hair in an action that had John raising an eyebrow. Virgil squirmed slightly under the gaze that suddenly seemed far too knowing and he was reminded that, while John might be guarded about his own emotions, that didn’t mean he wasn’t observant to the moods of others. He really didn’t want to be unloading all his concerns onto John, it was part of the unwritten code of older brothers to not burden the younger ones, but with his usual outlet and sounding board going awol being one of his issues he found himself leaning on his next in line.

“I’m worried about him,” Virgil confided, “we used to talk all the time but now I’m lucky if I can keep him on the line for three minutes at a time and my messages go unanswered for days.”

“Perhaps he’s just talking to Gordon more, ever since the whole WASP thing those two have been a lot closer.”

“Maybe, but since Gordon started on the bathyscape he’s been pretty busy. That’s one of the things Alan was telling me ; Gordon used to check in with him every couple of days but since taking command and starting his course he’s really cut back on contact. I’m worried that Scott isn’t talking to any of us. There is something going on and I don’t like it; you know how he can be when something’s bothering him.”

John had never had the kind of bond with Scott that Virgil had but he knew well enough that Virgil’s instincts for these things were generally to be trusted. It was almost uncanny how Virgil was able to sense upset and tension in his brothers and more than once during his time at Harvard John had found himself on the receiving end of a well timed holo-call or care package.

“Do you think it’s Dad?” While John might not have been explicitly confided in before he certainly wasn’t stupid, he’d picked up on the tone of his brothers’ calls before the topic of the future had become verboten. Even if he hadn’t there was no ignoring that fact that Scott hadn’t been attending the scheduled group calls with their father and the ire this raised despite Jeff’s thinly veiled attempts to brush Scott’s absences off as down to unavoidable Air Force commitments. It didn’t take a genius to work out that relations between Scott and their father had become strained.

“Could be. You know well enough that Dad still won’t even consider a plan that doesn’t have Scott as field commander, he talks like it’s a done deal and I know Scott hates that, he feels like he’s had all free will stripped away. If Dad has been getting at him again that would certainly be getting him down.” Virgil picked up his mug and tipped it back, grimacing when it only yielded a few cold and bitter drips, before setting it back down heavily. God he needed more caffeine but he wasn’t quite ready to resort to the emergency energy drink stashed in his desk and he had a suspicious feeling John wouldn’t let him have it anyway. He turned back to the problem in hand; now he’d started confiding in John he may as well keep going. “Thing is, that doesn’t explain why Scott has started avoiding me. I’ve been careful not to mention the whole business to him, I’ve had my head chewed off too many times and since Scott made it perfectly clear he isn’t joining we just agreed to not talk about it. No, I think there is something else going on, something more than just Dad, but he keeps shutting me out.”

“Try not to worry about Scott for now, or at least not until after Thursday. At the moment all you need to focus on is that exam.”

Virgil cast a rueful glance at the hated notes. He knew John was right, once the freight law was out of the way he could throw his energies at distant siblings a lot more freely, or at least he could until the next exam came along. The problem was, without Scott on the team, he wasn’t wholly convinced that the exam was going to mean anything. .

“Do you think we can do it? I mean really make it work. Cos with only the three of us I just can’t see how it'll be possible. Even with Scott it would be a stretch but without him…” he tailed off, unwilling to say out loud what he was really feeling, that the whole thing was a fool's errand. No amount of good intentions and determination would be enough to run the outfit successfully with just him, John and their father.

John could understand his doubts. He had plenty of them himself, none of which had been dispelled by the many calculations he had run, trying to find some tiny shred of evidence that said the dream could indeed be made reality. Looking at it logically he knew their father’s vision was an impossible fantasy but it was a fantasy he wanted to believe in. He wanted to live among the stars and the venture was nothing if not noble.

The notes on freight law lay abandoned on the desk as the brothers continued to talk through their fears, hopes and dreams, unaware that the figure in the next room wasn’t quite as asleep as they thought.

Xoxoxox

“So, what’s International Rescue?”

There was a splutter as John half choked on a spoonful of granola. Virgil set the coffee pot down on the counter and carefully schooled his features to a neutral expression before turning to face his brother.

“What was that, Al?”

“You heard me,” the nonchalance of the original question now gone, Alan’s voice was aggressive and challenging. “International Rescue.”

Virgil darted a look at John but found no help there, the latter was still wiping tears from his eyes having finally dislodged the clump of oats. Any hope of passing it off as nothing had been dashed by John’s unfortunate and very obvious reaction to the question. He sighed, reclaimed the coffee pot, and brought the whole jug over to the table. There was no way he was facing this conversation without caffeine and he had a feeling he was going to need more than one cup.

“You want me to get you some water?”

John gave another cough and shook his head. “No, I’m good, thanks.”

“Are either of you going to answer me or are you just going to ignore me like Dad does?” Alan was bristling with indignation which was coming across with a brattish pout.

“I’m not ignoring you, I just...you threw me, that all. How did you find out?”

“I heard you two talking last night.”

Virgil poured himself a mug of coffee and quickly drained half of it, despite it still being scalding hot. The thought that this was a problem of his own making settled like a lead weight in the pit of his stomach. He tried to remember just what he and John had talked about, he knew there had been a lot both about International Rescue and the family in general, and he wondered how much Alan had overheard. “We thought you were asleep.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t.”

“Look, it’s not that we don’t want to tell you it’s just Dad forbade us from talking about it.” Indecision and worry played out across Virgil’s features at the prospect of defying a direct order.

“Gordon made you promise you would tell him.” John cut in, a little unhelpfully in Virgil’s opinion. “If he heard us talking last night he may as well hear the full story, now is as good a time as any.”

Alan had heard Scott’s name crop up last night but Gordon hadn’t been mentioned in relation to whatever this mysterious plan was. Discussions on Gordon had been limited to WASP and the course he was doing with CalTech from what he had heard. The knowledge that the entire family was hiding something from him, including the brother he thought he could trust the most, came as a bitter blow, resentment that had been building for some time came crashing out.

“Gordon knows too?" he clarified, not wanting to believe it. "I hate this family sometimes, I hate that I’m just some afterthought. I thought Gordon was different, I thought he cared. Guess I was wrong.” Alan could see the hurt he was causing as the words hit Virgil like a whip, but he was too angry to care., if anything it felt good to see his brother feeling the same pain that he was.

“That’s not true, Alan, ” Virgil assured him, trying to soothe some of the hurt that was bubbling out of his youngest brother. “Gordon does care, we all do.”

“Yeah, well you’ve got a funny way of showing it. I’m always the last to know everything, it’s like I’m some massive inconvenience. I might as well just pack my stuff and get out of your hair.”

Alan pushed his chair back from the table with a scrape and started grabbing the belongings he had discarded around the room over the course of his short visit, shoving them into the open duffel bag at the end of the couch. He could deal with the others knowing stuff but Gordon was different. It had hurt so much that Gordon hadn’t confided in him about WASP and now it seemed that he had been betrayed again. Gordon had made that transition into adulthood, someone worth telling stuff to, and he was still some kid to be kept in the dark. Alone.

“Alan, please, it’s really not like that.” Virgil was after him like a shot, grabbing his brother’s arm in an attempt to halt the furious packing. The blue eyes that spun to face him contained a mix of tears and venom.

Alan tried to pull away, embarrassed at the emotion he couldn’t control, but hearing that Gordon had been keeping secrets again had stabbed him in the heart. The hand on his arm became a full on bear hug and Alan found himself wrapped in solid muscle with no hope of escape. He struggled for a moment then stilled, giving up on his attempt to get free.

Virgil never loosened his hold, warm and comforting, and Alan soon found himself returning the hug; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually been held like this and hadn’t realised how much he missed the human contact. He became vaguely aware of an extra hand on his shoulder and unburied his head enough to see that John had joined them.

“Believe me, Alan, we’ve wanted to tell you. Gordon especially made it quite clear you shouldn’t be frozen out of all this but Dad was adamant that you weren’t to be told. No matter what Dad says we were going to tell you once Virgil qualified but I think we need to bring that forward.” There was total honesty in John’s eyes as he held his brother’s gaze.

Alan was slightly mollified that there had at least been a plan among his brothers to bring him into the loop and he could feel the sincerity in his brother's words. He was increasingly quick to anger at the injustices of being the youngest, more so now that he didn’t have Gordon around to share in the same treatment, but he knew deep down that his main antagonist was their father with his draconian rules. If their father had expressly forbidden something, rather than just choosing not to mention it, then he knew he was putting Virgil and John in an incredibly difficult position; witnessing Gordon’s defiance and their father’s reaction to it had shown that he wasn’t beyond making life intensely difficult for those who dared to disobey.

Feeling that the tension had at least partially ebbed out of his youngest brother’s body Virgil loosened his grip and sat down on the couch, inviting Alan to take the seat next to him. Ever thoughtful, John reclaimed the coffee pot and mugs from the table and set them up on the coffee table before grabbing a spare seat.

“I think it’s time we brought you up to speed. There are some big changes ahead although even we don’t know when anything is going to happen. And John’s right, Gordon isn’t to blame for this at all. We were shocked when he said you guys never got warned before the move to LA and we promised you’d never get another upheaval like that.”

“I’ve gotta move again?” As much as Alan had no great fondness for LA he also wasn’t keen on the idea of uprooting yet again, setting up goodness knows where, which sounded very much like where this conversation was headed. At least this time he wouldn’t have to worry about integrating into a new school.

“WE are going to move. I’m not sure when, but yeah, Dad’s setting up somewhere new. Once I get my space rating I’ll be moving back to LA then, a year later, when he’s finished his course, John’s going to be joining us, wherever we happen to be at the time.”

Alan looked across at John and received a slight nod of confirmation. “Yeah, I’ll be coming home too, at least until my space station is ready.”

Alan’s eyes widened.

“John, are you sure…?”

John just rolled his eyes at Virgil. “Believe me, it’s better to tell him everything than have him guessing, or worse hunting for the information himself.”

Virgil still looked unconvinced but decided to follow John’s lead. When the news had come out about Alan hacking the school administration systems he had been shocked at the youngest Tracy’s disregard for rules but John had merely shrugged and commented that he would probably have done the same. John had been more disappointed that Alan had been skipping school, the rest of the duplicitous behaviour hadn’t phased him and Virgil had received a surprising and uncomfortable insight into a shared characteristic of the two brothers currently sat with him. If John thought unanswered questions would lead to Alan seeking out the details for himself then he would much rather tell all. If their father found out this conversation was happening they would all be in serious trouble but if Alan was caught attempting to go through their father’s files, well, Virgil didn’t want to imagine the consequences of that.

“I guess you’re right, I mean the whole idea can only work if we trust each other and that means total honesty.”

The coffee went cold as Virgil, aided by John, told Alan all he could about their father’s vision for a rescue organisation with global capabilities, the aircraft currently being designed and the supporting vehicles and equipment that would be used on site to help those in need, and of course the need to relocate to a suitable base.

The conversation became decidedly trickier when it came to detailing the role each brother was expected to take in the organisation. Much as Virgil would have preferred to leave out the growing rift that was opening up between Scott and their father, there was no escaping the fact that the plans were not progressing smoothly.

He reached the end and waited, unsure how Alan would react.

“So this is why you’re doing this course , so you can help get John get to his monitoring station or whatever it is?”

“Yeah, and to help take stuff up there before things go operational.” Trust Alan to latch on to the space flight parts of the whole set-up, Virgil just hoped Alan would be less jealous of him getting space rated now he knew why it was happening. Until now he had never been able to give a decent answer for his sudden change in direction away from engineering. Despite Alan trying to hide it if it meant he could escape LA and come visit, he knew his brother resented what he saw as an intrusion on the domain he viewed as his and John’s alone. “Beyond supply runs I doubt I’ll be heading into space much. Life on the comms satellite doesn’t appeal to me so I’m hoping I won’t have to do too many rotations.”

“But Scott doesn’t want in?”

“Uh huh. John and I have been trying to figure out how it could work without him because Dad is just ploughing on regardless. He’s convinced Scott’s going to just resign his commission and fall into line the moment he gives the order.”

“I think I’ll make myself scarce when that showdown happens.” Alan hadn’t often witnessed Scott and their father butt heads, those sorts of disagreements tended to happen firmly behind closed doors, but he could easily imagine the two clashing, each as stubborn and determined as the other.

“Probably wise,” replied John. “And you can't let Dad know we’ve been speaking about this or we’ll all be on the receiving end of those fireworks.”

“Don’t worry about that, that would involve Dad actually talking to me and he barely even registers that I exist.”

That earned a frown from Virgil who was suddenly even more glad that he only had a couple more months left at Tracy College. With Gordon forging a new life in WASP he’d made a solemn promise to look out for Alan but what with the demands of his course and his worries over Scott, he realised he hadn’t been paying as much attention as he should. He certainly hadn’t realised their father had gotten quite so distant and aloof with the teen again. Still, in two months time he would be back in LA where he could give his brother some proper attention. In the meantime his freight law notes were beckoning; if he failed the exam and didn’t achieve his space rating then International Rescue would be even more of an impossible pipedream.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #high expectations #John Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Alan Tracy

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lostinbl · 5 years ago

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A bad night | Tutor x Fighter | Why R U

So… @occasionally-writing literally asked for “something close to hurt/comfort and filled with fluff” but my brain short-circuited and you only got hurt/comfort with a little fluff ? I swear it was not supposed to be this sad but somehow I just… went there ??? I’m sorry please suffer I mean enjoy asdfgfdsa

—

Tutor does not cry. Tutor did not cry when his family lost their wealth, he did not cry when he lost his job at the café nor did he cry when one by one all his students left him and he was faced with the realisation that he could soon be without a roof over his head. He did not cry when he twisted his ankle or when he broke his finger. In short, Tutor does not cry.

And yet, no matter how much he tells himself that, no matter how many times he repeats that sentence over and over, he can’t stop the tears rolling down his cheeks. If he were to tell the reason why he’s crying to anyone, they would surely think it’s reasonable and that they would too, and yet Tutor feels as though he lost a game he didn’t know he was taking a part in.

He should’ve seen it coming. Nothing ever goes right this long. He got a new job with higher pay, he aced all his exams and his relationships with people got better. Fighter became a little less annoying, Hwahwa was happier and Day.. Well, Day was Day.

And then he got a word that his father’s friend screwed him over and the business he and Tutor’s mother had tried so hard to build was in jeopardy. Tutor is sad for them and sad for himself and angry at the entire world. And his anger makes him even more sad because who is he to complain when there are so many people suffering far worse than he has. In his messy state, his body finally betrayed him by opting for the one thing that would not most certainly help anyone: crying.

Tutor’s sitting on the street, the asphalt cold under his bottom and the carbage smelly on the other side of the road. It’s dark already, it has been for far longer than Tutor realised. He’s not sure how long he has been sitting on the ground crying. To his luck, it’s Thursday and not a weekend. Only a few people have passed by. Tutor only managed to walk two blocks from the convenience store he works at before he collapsed in the more secluded area of the neighborhood. Tutor, however, knew the area to be safe, filled with working people and their families and hence he was not worried. Not that it really mattered in the state he’s in. Even if he was scared, he’s not sure he could get up any faster. Tutor is convinced even a little kid could rob him now if they wanted to. Not that he has anything to rob though. How truly pathetic.

More tears fall down Tutor’s face. He doesn’t wipe them away. He did at first when he had not yet completely given up but after his legs gave out and the tears didn’t stop he let them fall down and make his cheeks itchy. Tutor looks at the street with his blurry eyes, for the first time completely lost. Before, no matter what, he always had a plan. When he lost his job, he started to look for a new one. When he lost his students, he looked for another job. But now? What was there to do? No matter how hard Tutor worked the money was not enough. It was not enough for him so how could it be for his family? Tutor presses his face against his arms as he leans on his knees. He knows he should get up and he will. Soon.

Fighter is walking down the street, keeping his eye out for anyone familiar. He knows it’s far-fetched to find Tutor here but there’s no harm in trying. Two hours ago, Hwahwa called him in panic, pleading for him to go out and find Tutor. His shift at the shop ended at 6 PM and he had promised to meet Hwa in the café near his house. When an hour later he had not arrived and was out of reach, she got worried. She knows her best friend better than anyone in the world and she knows, she just knows that Tutor would never disappear like that. She went to his dorm, but he wasn’t there and that’s when she called Fighter for help. And Fighter, of course, agreed to help. Fighter was still in the university when she called and decided to look for him there first, just in case something suddenly came up and he had to go back. After Fighter didn’t find him, he went into the shop Tutor is working in and was told that the boy left work at 6, just like he’s supposed to. So, why is he not home yet?

Fighter doesn’t let himself get too worked up. He walks the streets slowly, looking into every alley on the way to Tutor’s house. If something serious happened he doubts Tutor would still be in this area, but if he got beaten up? Someone might’ve hidden him into the alley and ran away. Fighter hopes not but he still looks behind the dumpsters.

A few minutes later Fighter sees someone and his stomach drops. A person is sitting on the side of the street curled into a ball. The moment Fighter lays his eyes on him, he knows it’s Tutor. He doesn’t need to see his face or recognise his clothes, he knows it’s him. Fighter sprints forward and with six steps he reaches the boy. He crouches down and gently places his hand on Tutor’s shoulder. Tutor flinches and lifts his head, his eyes wide. Fighter wants to flinch too. He has never seen Tutor like this, and Fighter would bet all his money that no one else has either. Tutor’s eyes are red and puffy, his cheeks wet with tears and his skin so irritated his entire face is red. Tutor’s hair is a mess and he’s sweating from the humidity of the night.

“P’ Fight”, Tutor greets his senior. His voice cracks and more tears fall down his face. Fighter’s sure a part of his heart breaks off and withers away. Someone as beautiful as Tutor should not cry. “Shit”, Fighter curses and he gets closer. He cups Tutor’s face and wipes away his tears. “Stop crying okay? Look at your face, your poor skin”, Fighter scolds gently and Tutor sniffs. Fighters warm hands on his cheeks burn against his irritated skin. And yet Tutor doesn’t wish him to get off. With a lot less effort than Tutor thought it would take, he takes a deep breath and stops crying. Fighter smiles but the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s better. Can you get up?” Fighter asks as he pulls back, giving Tutor the space he needs to attempt what he was asked. In the end, that’s all it is, an attempt. Tutor can not stand up. “Huh”, Tutor lets out as he looks down at his legs. He must’ve been sitting here for too long. Fighter rolls his eyes. “You’re such a baby”, he mumbles as he turns his back towards the younger guy. Tutor is sure he’s going to walk away but instead, Fighter crouches down and takes a hold of Tutor’s hands. He drags his arms over his shoulder and before Tutor has any time to protest, Fighter lifts himself up with Tutor on his back. On a reflex Tutor tightens his arms around Fighter’s neck as he finds himself moving. “Put me down! I can walk!” Tutor curses at the older boy but Fighter ignores him. He starts walking towards Tutor’s dormitory. “P’ Fight! Put me down!” Tutor tells him again, his voice slowly becoming more and more clear. Fighter rolls his eyes and with a quick jump positions Tutor better on his back. “Stop nagging. If I let you down now you won’t be able to get back on your own. Hwahwa will kill me if I leave you out here”, Fighter complains. He’s annoyingly aware that what he’s saying is only half the truth. Tutor fights back again but Fighter shuts him up with a quick shh as he answers his phone. “Hello? Yea, just found him… No need, we’re on our way back… yea he’s okay… he didn’t drink enough and was a little weak…. no, don’t worry, I’ll handle it… yes, I promise… okay… bye”, Fighter ends the call. Even without hearing the other end of the line, Tutor is pretty sure it was Hwahwa and that Fighter just saved his ass with his lies. He feels a little warmth in his heart. It feels refreshing after all the pain. Tutor decides to shut up and let Fighter carry him back. He’s already being a big nuisance after all.

Back at the dorm Tutor takes a hot shower and eats the instant porridge Fighter prepares for him. He doesn’t necessarily want Fighter to be the one to take care of him but there’s not much he can say. Fighter found him and brought him back and, well, truthfully, Tutor is in no position to take care of himself. After he crawls under covers, he turns his eyes to the boy in his room.

“You can sleep. I’ll clean this up and then go. I’ll make sure the door is locked”, Fighter says as he picks up the empty bowl. Tutor doesn’t turn his eyes away. Fighter ignores his stare as he continues cleaning up.

It’s.. awkward. Very awkward.

Even though the two of them have not been fighting or getting on each other’s nerves as much, they can’t be called friends. A few more months and they might get there but not right now. That and the kiss.. Fighter can’t say he regrets it for he has wanted to kiss the boy ever since the first day he saw him, but admittedly it was stupid and rash. Still, Tutor got over it. A few weeks of nasty looks and he was done with his grudge. After that Fighter paid extra attention to keeping his mouth shut even when every fibre of his being was shouting at him to say something stupid, and with few weeks of absence from mean comments, Tutor was a little nicer towards him. And Fighter’s need to say stupid shit is no longer as strong as it was before. All in all, it’s an improvement.

Fighter turns around finally done with cleaning just to see Tutor in the bed with his eyes closed. Fighter lets out a sigh and smiles. He turns off the ceiling lamp, walking over to Tutor’s bed. He stands next to the bed for a little while, looking at Tutor’s sleeping face. It’s creepy, he knows but he doesn’t care. Once he can’t excuse his own behaviour anymore, Fighter reaches over for the light still burning next to Tutor’s bed. He turns the lamp off and retreats back. He gives Tutor one more look with a heavy heart and turns around. A firm hand wraps around his wrist. Fighter freezes and turns his head.

“P’ Fight.. please stay?” Tutor’s request is barely audible. Fighter doubts he’s even awake anymore. “You want me to stay?” Fighter asks just to make sure. The last thing he needs is Tutor waking up in the morning and kicking him off the bed in anger. Tutor doesn’t answer, he just tightens his hold and pulls Fighter a little closer. With a resigned sigh, Fighter follows the hand. Tutor moves over, making space for Fighter and after a lot of hesitation, he crawls under the covers. At first, he was planning on sleeping on top of it but seeing how much the a/c is blowing, he would most likely freeze.

Fighter lays his head on the pillow, stiff with tension. At the start of his day, he never imagined he would end it in someone else’s bed. Definitely not in Tutor’s. The two of them stay quiet for a long time. Just when Fighter thinks Tutor has fallen asleep, the younger boy opens his mouth.

“Just for tonight.. with no attachment and the promise to never talk about it again… can you hug me?” Tutor asks quietly, his voice shaking. Fighter turns his head. Tutor is already looking at him and their eyes meet. Fighter searches Tutor’s eyes for any malicious intent but he sees none. There’s nothing but pain in his eyes. Well, then. Fighter nods and opens his arms. Tutor moves closer, wrapping his left arm firmly around Fighter’s body as he presses his face against Fighter’s neck. Fighter wraps his arms around Tutor’s body. For a big guy like him, he fits into Fighters arms almost too perfectly. So perfectly that it makes Fighter not want to let go. Tutor breaths in Fighter’s scent and closes his eyes. It is still a mystery to him, how a man he thought he hated can bring him so much comfort. And yet here he is getting his pain hugged away by a pair of arms he thought he would never have around him. And surprisingly, he does not want to ever remove himself from those arms. Knowing he still has several hours until the morning comes and he has to face the world again, Tutor closes his eyes. In the morning he might be in pain again, but for now, he’ll let the comfort of these arms be his lullaby.

#umm so yea have a sad one everyone #i'm sorry but also not ?#my heart aches for tutor though #my poor boy #he deserves so much #whyru #whyrutheseries #why r u #why r u the series #tutorfighter #fightertutor #tutor x fighter #TutorFighter fanfiction #pau writes

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troped-fanfic-challenge · 4 years ago

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AUTHOR REVEAL of the JATP: ROUND 1: ANGST FICS!

The Tropes:

1. Character discovers they’re not human

2. Coffee Shop AU

3. Poorly Timed Confession

4. Character A catches Character B crying

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the sky was gray and white and (cloudy) (Rated T) [Alex x Willie] by @screamin-amuseum

Alex spits out what feels like a clot of blood and gives Willie a tired grin, probably looking completely insane.

“That’s pretty gay of you,” he says, just as his vision clouds over and he passes out.

Honey, You’re Familiar (Like My Mirror Years Ago) (Rated T) [Julie x Luke] by nik_knows_nothing

Summary: Luke works at a coffee shop, which is normal, quietly pines after his coworker, which is normal, and also occasionally steals people’s faces without really meaning to.

It’s probably that last part that moves him pretty solidly out of the “normal” territory.

But that’s fine, that’s totally cool.

He’s handling it super well.

You Can’t Value People Less Than a Good, Hot Cup of Bean Juice (It Just Seems Rude) (Rated T) [Julie x Luke] by nik_knows_nothing

Summary: Julie gets a job at a coffee stand in the middle of nowhere.

It’ll help to pass the time, if nothing else.

And if there’s a cute guy who works the shift after her and sometimes leaves her ridiculously endearing messages on an ancient tape recorder?

Well, that’s just a bonus.

honest to god I’ll break your heart, tear you to pieces and rip you apart (Rated T) [Julie x Luke] by @tonightthestarsalign

or: the siren!Julie AU no one asked for

new instincts (Rated T) [Luke x Reggie] by @comeonpeters

you look like you’ve just seen a monster (is that what i look like to you?) (Rated T) [Bobby x Alex x Luke x Reggie] by @aroacethetic-shitpost

He stared in silent shock at the little nubs in the mirror. They were only an inch or two big, but pointy and a little fuzzy when he poked at them.

Well, at least they weren’t fully grown yet.

(or: it’s angsty tiefling bobby time, folks!)

We Are Monsters, We Are Proud (Rated G) [Flynn x Carrie, Julie x Luke] by @americanhoney913

Summary: The clock is striking thirteen

It’s time to scream your team

We don’t have to say goodbye

‘Cause friends like these will never die

Carrie finds herself at a college like no other in search of her dad and some answers.

Julie’s not feeling good and maybe staring at roses wasn’t the best idea.

Monster College/Coffeeshop AU

sending forth their beautiful voice, and my heart was fain to listen (Rated G) [Julie x Carrie] by @savannahleemay

Summary: Months after the death of her mom, Julie prepares to sing again and makes an upsetting discovery.

rise from the ashes (Rated M) [Alex x Willie] by @willexxmercer

Siren’s Song (Rated T) [Ray x Rose] by hufflebibin

Summary: The Scopuli was never meant to be a permanent arrangement. Rose had taken the job straight out of school just looking to make a little extra money before the tour kicked off.

That was four years ago.

After a string of bad luck befalls Rose and the Petal Pushers, she can’t help but wonder if she is the problem. Or is there something more sinister at play?

Yellow (Rated T) [Julie & Reggie] by @tmp-jatp

“Alex, Julie, what are you doing?” Reggie cleared his throat; his voice was deep and gruff, like he was developing a cold.

Julie and Alex startled. Julie glanced down at her nametag. Alex readjusted his footing and his grip on the tongs.

“What’s going on, guys?”

Alex took a deep breath. “I don’t know who you are, dude, but you have got to leave.”

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Reggie just wanted to get some new guitar strings. A shapeshifter!Reggie au

Angels Like You (Rated T) [Luke x Reggie] by @sunsetcurveofficial

Summary: Reggie is having a bit of a weird day. It gets worse when he figures out that it’s because he died in his sleep and has somehow been walking around as a ghost without realising it. Meeting Luke helps. Luke says he’s a fellow ghost, and there is something about him that Reggie just feels drawn to. Falling for him is the easiest thing Reggie has ever done, but Luke is a little more than he lets on, and it turns out that their story actually started long before Reggie thought it did.

look into my eyes (it’s where my demons hide) (Rated T) [Flynn x Carrie] by @fanfics-she-wrote

Bring All The Monsters Out To Play, Let All The Red Erase The Grey (Rated T) [Bobby & Reggie] by @kennysbirthday

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All the Winners can be found here.

We hope you enjoy these fics from our fabulous Fantoms! Make sure to leave kudos and comments to show them some love! And don’t forget, if you missed the initial writing deadline you can still submit your fics to our Non-Anon Collection at any time! Thank you all so much for participating this round! Now that winners and authors have been revealed feel free to post about your fics, create artwork for it, if you like, and don’t forget to tag us!

We hope you all will join us for Round 2! The prompt drops at Midnight tonight!

#troped: jatp #round 1: angst #author reveal #jatp fanfiction

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