Tumgik
#godsliltippy
katblu42 · 8 months
Text
Disney Princess Gordon
For TagMiniBang2023 @tagminibang and isnpired by wonderful art by @tippystreasurebox @godsliltippy Thanks @gumnut-logic for the read through!!
Main inspiration is this wonderful art.
It all started with that awesome painting Virgil did of Gordon sitting on the seabed, feeding the little fish that surrounded him. Gordon’s eyes had lit up the moment Virgil had revealed it to him, drinking in all the little details.  The colours, the beams of light, the bubbles, the illusion of movement in a still image, and the absolute joy of the moment all captured with brushstrokes.
“It’s amazing, Virg!”  Gordon had exclaimed in wonder, wrapping his big brother in one of his most clingy squid hugs to show his gratitude.  “Thanks!”
Then the discussion had begun with the entrance of his eldest and youngest brothers.
“Ooh, hey, cool painting.” Alan’s eyes wandered the expanse of canvas, trying to take it all in.
“Is this what you’ve been working on all this past week or so?”
Virgil nodded, and Gordon could see that little flicker of self-conscious doubt creep into his expression.  It was something that they all had, but it was only noticeable if you knew to look for it – that little niggling need for big brother approval.  The delighted pride that had sparkled in those deep brown eyes just moments ago faded momentarily until Scott’s hand landed on Virgil’s shoulder, and that famous dimpled smile spread across the eldest’s face as he studied the artwork.
“It’s fantastic, Virgil.  Really captures a moment that is so very Gordon.  I feel like I’m there with him.”
And the sparkle was back, the shoulders a little straighter, self-doubt chased away with a few words.
“Kinda reminds me of something, though.”  Alan stood with his head slightly tilted to one side, one hand reaching up to scratch absently at the back of his neck as he regarded the canvas.
He paused so long in silence the others had all begun picking out little details they liked, naming the types of fish, remarking on the colours and shading, then –
“He looks like a Disney princess!” Alan finally blurted out.
And suddenly they had all seen it.  The similarity to Snow White or Sleeping Beauty surrounded by woodland creatures, or Cinderella with the birds and mice. That was when John had joined the conversation by helpfully providing examples from the internet, holoprojected for comparison.
At the time Gordon had laughed along with his brothers.  After all, it was just harmless, good-natured fun, and it did kind of look a little like some of those old, animated movie scenes. 
“Are you suggesting Virgil should have given me a mermaid tail like Ariel?” he’d said with a laugh when images from the Little Mermaid were called up.
“Nah,” Scott had countered.  “You’re not a mermaid who wishes she could live on land, you’re a human who wishes he could live underwater.”
“Oh, yeah,” Alan chimed in.  “Like a reverse Little Mermaid.”
There had been more laughter, but little else said about it and they had all drifted away to other tasks soon after that.  Gordon had quickly put it out of his mind. Which is why it surprised him to now find himself startled awake by a rather vivid nightmare.  The dream had apparently made him restless enough to fall out of bed.  Head first.
[More inspirational art]
It took a moment for him to mentally orientate before he could physically right himself into a sitting position.  Heart still pounding, head beginning to throb and a brain full of images of a gigantic, tentacled monster with an evil grin and yellow glowing eyes who wanted too high a price in exchange for the ability to live underwater permanently.
[And another]
The dream itself was fading, but the fear of ending up “sleeping with the fishes” instead of living amongst them still gripped him tightly.
Gordon was sure Lady Penelope had been a part of his dream, and that somehow the deal he was making with KrakenHood involved leaving his brothers to be with her.  He almost called her to discuss his weird bad dream with her, wondering if she could help him makes sense of what it was all about and where it had sprung from.  Then he remembered the painting and the ensuing discussion the afternoon before.
He thought it seemed an odd thing to have sparked a nightmare like that.  And while he tried to put it all out of his mind as he climbed back into bed and tried to get back to sleep, that proved easier said than done.
The whole Disney princess discussion was replaying itself in his mind.  Over and over.  Snow White.  Sleeping Beauty. Cinderella. The Little Mermaid.  They’d all been mentioned and Gordon had laughed along with his brothers at the comparisons.  He hadn’t been bothered by it.  Or had he?
Something wasn’t sitting right with him, but he couldn’t put a finger on what exactly.  So, despite trying to put the whole thing out of his mind, he ended up spending another couple of sleepless hours tossing and turning.
When the glow of pre-dawn light summoned the dawn chorus the next morning Gordon roused himself and made his way down to the pool.  He stood in the shadows watching the sunrise paint the sky and barely registered Scott taking off for his morning run.  There was no greeting, so Gordon figured Scott hadn’t seen him.
His morning laps were lazier than normal – a contrast to an unrested and still churning mind.  He’d completed a little over half the normal number of laps by the time Scott returned and tossed a “Morning Fish!” in his direction.
Gordon returned the greeting with his normal chirpiness.  Or so he thought.
By the time Gordon had climbed out of the pool, made a half-hearted attempt at towelling off and headed into the kitchen, Scott was waiting for him at the kitchen table.  The waiting wasn’t particularly unusual, but the fact he was seated definitely was.  A glass of Gordon’s favourite breakfast juice was slid across the table, indicating a summons to sit.
“What’s up, Squid?”
Okay, so maybe his big brother was more observant than he’d like to admit right now.  It wasn’t going to stop Gordon from deflecting.
“The usual.  What’s up with you?”
An eyebrow was raised in response.
Gordon took a long sip of his drink in an effort to say nothing more until Scott spoke again.  This would not have worked with Virgil – he knew how to wait until you couldn’t stand it anymore and had to risk incriminating yourself by filling the horrible expanse of silence.  John was almost as bad but was more likely to use unavoidable questions rather than complete silence. But Scott didn’t have that level of patience, and Gordon knew he wouldn’t stay quiet for long.
“Really?” Right on cue.  Less than 30 seconds.  “You’re going to avoid the question and pretend I can’t see the dark circles under your eyes?  Next I suppose you’re going to tell me I imagined the fact that you were out by the pool earlier than normal, but too distracted to set your normal lap count and timer?”
Damn!  Gordon’s gaze fell to the table and his finger trailed through the little ring of water left by the condensation from his glass.
There was an implication that John might have had a word to Scott, a little heads-up that Gordon’s routine was a little off today.  Deep down Gordon knew that Scott probably didn’t need the tip-off, though.
“I’m fine, Scott.” He knew his slumped shoulders said otherwise.  “Just a bit distracted, like you said.”
“Something on your mind?”
“It’s nothing, really.”
Gordon didn’t need to look up from his condensation finger painting to know that piercing blue eyes were intently studying him.
“Distractions that cause a sleepless night can hardly be considered nothing.”  Scott’s hand reached across to Gordon’s, stilling the fidgeting.
Gordon heaved a sigh and raised his gaze to meet his brother’s.  “I had a really weird dream and it got me thinking.  That’s all.”
“Oh?”
How one tiny word could convey so much Gordon would never know, but that single uttered syllable actually translated to “Go on, I’m listening.  Spill your guts, Gordon.  I won’t judge you, I’m here for you and I’m not gonna let up until you talk to me, so you might as well just get it over with.”  Or words to that effect.
He wondered if it was a big brother thing.  John and Virgil could do it too.  That and the eyebrow thing.  They could all interrogate you using just their eyebrows.
Gordon resigned himself to his fate and sat up a little straighter, steeling himself for an awkward conversation.
“I dreamed I was in some kind of Little Mermaid AU, or whatever.  Like Alan said yesterday.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Gordon, if anything we said yesterday bothered you –“
“No!  It didn’t, I swear.” Gordon held a hand up in a Rescue Scout salute, then let it drop. “At least, I didn’t think it did at the time, but . . .”
The bright-eyed rush to reassure Scott that no offence had been taken ebbed away with a shrug and another sigh.
“I don’t really know what’s bugging me about it.”
“The painting?”
“No, I love the painting! It’s awesome.  Virgil did such an amazing job with it.  It looks kind of like I feel when I’m down there with the fish, you know?”
Scott’s crooked smile in reply suggested that he did, at least in some way know what Gordon was trying to say.
“He’ll be glad to hear that.  So, was it the way we compared you to a princess?”
“No . . .?” the uncertainty etched itself into Gordon’s frown.  “Not really.  Not if you mean misgendering, because I didn’t take it that way.  None of that matters to me.”  A wicked grin formed, and an eyebrow quirked upward.  “Besides, I’m not the only Tracy boy who’s dressed up as a princess on occasion!”
Scott’s own smile broke containment and became a chuckle.
“I think . . .” realisation dawning, the thoughts barely formed before Gordon spoke the words, “maybe it’s more about the specific princesses that were mentioned.”
“What about them?”
“They don’t fit me,” the words came faster now, the thought more fully formed.  “I mean, I’m not them. Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella.  I don’t fit those stories.  Not even the Little Mermaid.”
“Gordon –“
“Maybe that’s what the dream was?  My mind trying to fit me into Ariel’s story or something, and realising that’s just not the right Disney Princess for me to identify with.”
“You don’t have to identify with a Disney Princess.”  Scott’s brow furrowed before the confusion gave way to a frustrated eye-roll and a facepalm rolled into one.  “Why would you even put this much thought into it?
Gordon shrugged again, but this time the action was full of his regular jauntiness and accompanied by his trademark mischievous grin.  He no longer felt weighed down by his thoughts, knowing he was onto something.
“I dunno.  I kind of like the comparison, I guess.  I’ve just gotta find the right . . .“ Gordon’s eyes widened, lit with a fire of inspiration that had Scott’s Gordon’s-bright-ideas alarm bells ringing for a moment.
The two were so engrossed in the discussion, Virgil’s quiet entry into the room went unnoticed.  He paused in his journey toward the coffee pot, appearing to attempt to process what he was witnessing.
“So, which princess are you then?”
Gordon stood, striking a dramatic pose as he proudly sang “I am Moana!”
~~~
That evening, sitting alone in his room going over some recent statistics on the population and general health of various marine species he’d been helping to monitor, a piece of paper was quietly slipped under his door.
Wandering over and picking it up he immediately recognised it as a page from one of Virgil’s sketch books, and the image depicted on it had his face splitting into a wide grin.
[One more!]
I hope this little fic does the wonderful art justice.
I did want to add a little more - Gordon's lists of similarities and differences to each princess mentioned - but time got away from me, and I think the story flows okay without those. But if anyone's curious . . . let me know! :)
22 notes · View notes
whatgaviiformes · 11 months
Text
Fic: Sticking to the Landing - A Collab!
A/N: Hi Friends! @godsliltippy and I here for a oneshot fic collab. This was written with us taking the different voices, so everything Gordon is Tippy, and everything Virgil is me (with some Scott at the end). The co-creator tag may still be in progress on Ao3, but the fic is up if you prefer to read that method. 💛💚
For FishTank Week
Genre: General, Fluff
Characters: Virgil, Gordon
Word Count: 2.8K
Summary: Figure it out he says, Gordon whined to himself as he made the trek up the stairs, repeating Scott's instructions as he went. Off rotation, off the island, they just had to go somewhere and relax for at least seventy-two hours. For Gordon and his brothers, that was easier said than done.
Read on AO3 Here
*****
Sticking to the Landing
Figure it out he says, Gordon whined to himself as he made the trek up the stairs, repeating Scott's instructions as he went. Off rotation, off the island, they just had to go somewhere and relax for at least seventy-two hours. For Gordon and his brothers, that was easier said than done.
At the top of the stairs, his destination was a straight shot past their bedrooms and to their own personal workspaces. The thought of stopping in his own sanctuary to unpackage a new box of reclaimed gadgets from the early two-thousands was halted by the time-line big brother had given him.
Passing his sticker-covered door, Gordon found the one he'd been aimed to infiltrate, unable to help a smile as he contemplated knocking. Who would he be if he changed it up now? Not Gordon Tracy, that was for sure. 
Hitting the code he shouldn't know, the door to Virgil's studio slid open. With the intent of an annoying little brother, he called out, "Hey, Virgil!"
Virgil startled, his brush hovering a millimeter from a fresh canvas, and it was only well honed reflexes that kept him from flinching and ruining the piece he’d only just started. The sketch foretold a cityscape, sharp lines and angles, without the fluidity of his landscapes, but as certain fish had no respect for his privacy or his time, he’d only gotten as far as shapeless base colors. 
He sighed. Deeply.
He hadn’t really wanted the down time in the first place, not with the fact they’d already be down with Gordon out of commission. But if Scott was going to force him to take it, he planned on going no further than his own sanctuary, not far from where he could keep an eye on his errant younger brother. He could make his own fun easily, and it had been a long time since he’d been able to find himself in the place of creativity uninterrupted. 
“Squid,” he acknowledged, ignoring for the moment that Gordon knew his key code. Virgil twirled his brush in a cup of water and let it rest there on the table with his palette, before turning to his sibling. The grays of the city in his mind dissipated with the onslaught of the neon orange of the cast at Gordon’s wrist. 
One he’d put there with his negligence. 
“Scott catch you? How’s the pain today?”
Shrugging off the expected concern that his medic brother had a hard time suppressing, Gordon waved the restrained limb. "Pain's all good. Doesn't even itch." As if to contradict his own statement, a tingling sensation ran across the skin of his forearm and prompted his other hand to try to ease it away. "Okay, it itches a little, but nothing I can't handle." 
His broken wrist was the least of their worries, anyway. Gordon had grown up with his fair share of wrist fractures from all the adventures on a Kansas farm. They were likely the reason for the break after a short fall through the open cargo hold of a sinking ship.  
The real problem… "So, whacha workin' on?" …could wait a little longer.
"Just experimenting." Virgil glanced over at his painting. It was a lot easier to explain it that way rather than walking the aquanaut through his actual creative process, which sometimes felt a little backward even in his own head. “Want to tell me what was worth breaking and entering for?”
"Technically, I didn't break anything," Gordon teased, preparing himself for the real reason he'd invaded. "But, I did run into Scott. He actually wanted to talk to both of us, so I told him I could relay the message."
"Uh? How about my peace and quiet?"
"Well, about that…" He shoved his good hand into his pocket, rocking back on his heels to lean against the wall. "Big bro thinks we'd have more peace and quiet off the island. Y'know, like a vacation."
"A vacation?" He raised his eyebrow. "With you?"
The general consensus among Tracy's was that Gordon was both the most fun and the most dangerous to be with during downtime. Virgil didn't mind the spontaneity the way it seemed to short-circuit John, or even Scott, but where Virgil's idea of spontaneous meant following the sunset with his paints, Gordon's ideas meant a festival or a party. 
Been there, done that. Virgil did not want to relive college. 
But also, Gordon was his copilot, and their time together lately had been quite specific to the rescue business. Virgil didn't remember the last time he was on the receiving end of an epic Gordon Tracy maritime rant, and that was a stark reminder of how busy they'd been lately. 
Perhaps of how overworked, and a bit careless. Resulting in injured wrists. 
"What did you have in mind?" Virgil smiled, repressing his sigh in favor of moving forward instead of focusing on his mistakes. 
"Well, anywhere with water would be my first choice, but with this thing," Gordon waved the cast with a grimace, "I'd be more annoyed than relaxed. You have any ideas?"
“There are other places to relax,” Virgil responded, coming up beside him to clasp the back of his neck and rub where Gordon kept his stress. Being barred from the water meant he lacked his usual outlets, and a cooped up Gordon was a fish wound tight. "Pick a mountain range. Or a city?"
His shoulders drooped under the easing pressure on his underused muscles. Missing his morning laps was taking its toll. Sure, he could walk the island, but that lacked the intensity he was used to. So where on Earth could they go that offered more than what they already had on Tracy island? 
"As much as I love a picturesque mountain range, I'm not as good at sitting still and enjoying it as you are. Maybe a city? Which one though?" The hustle and bustle would definitely keep them occupied, but there was always the security risk that would drive Kayo into a tizzy. Gordon's box of disguises hadn't eased her worries about the last trip they'd planned either.
"Somewhere we've been?" Virgil asked. "Or somewhere new? What about a place chosen at random. You like surprises." 
Random? The word snagged on his mind and pulled him up from the flurry of ideas Gordon had been trying to narrow down. 
Pushing off the wall, he caught his brother's eye with a look of mischief and a grin to match. "Random, huh? I think I've got an idea. C'mon." Without waiting, the blonde stepped past his co-pilot, his attempt the upper level of the lounge. 
“Dubious." But, by the time Virgil could finish the word, Gordon was long gone from the studio, and only Virgil’s art supplies were nearby to hear him sigh. 
He stepped into the hallway, following after the flash of neon from Gordon's cast, and listening for the cadence of footsteps he knew better than his own. 
The bounce was back in his step. 
That was the thing Virgil admired most about his brother. He was never knocked down for long. 
Virgil followed him to the top floor of the lounge where, in a rare turn of circumstances, it was empty for once.
Gordon knew exactly where he would find what they needed, the ancient books surrounding it like walls of protection. His good hand pushed one set aside while his fingers protruding from his cast snagged the folded paper. 
"Got it!" He announced with a wiggle of the parchment before clumsily unfolding it. A map, certainly an antique now, but definitely used often enough by their grandparents before the invention of GPS offered a view of the globe. "We can use darts or something. Random enough?"
“You want us to throw darts at a map?” Virgil raised an eyebrow. “And just go wherever it lands?” 
That would be super random, even for him. Even for Gord- no, actually that was the exact type of random it seemed Gordon needed. A place where they wouldn't have time to stress about planning, wherever the wind took them. His bewilderment curled into a smile thinking  that John would certainly lecture him that he would be letting gravity and physics make decisions for him. And not, in fact, the earthen breeze. 
"I know where we can get darts." There was a set in Scott's private office near a poked through poster of corporate names their elder brother kept hung on the wall after stressful negotiations. Virgil even caught a Fischler and Lemaire on there at one point, but the names had been bulls-eyed into oblivion. 
Barging into Scott's office was more Gordon's speed, so Virgil held up a hand to stop Gordon behind him before he entered. He held up a finger to his lips and gestured for Gordon to wait there. 
With the creaking of the door, Scott eyed him warily, the earpiece linked to the computers flashing green in use. Don't ask Virgil mouthed, knowing Scott would get the gist. 
He returned to the hall victorious, shutting the door behind him silently before Gordon's inevitable whoop could reach the ears of those on the other side of Scott's call. 
"Awww spoil sport," Gordon teased at the obvious attempt at keeping big brother's meeting professional. "C'mon, we can set it up in my room."  With the map tucked under his arm, the blonde led the way back up the stairs, past their bedrooms and to his studio, the stickered door sliding open without a keycode. Gordon liked to keep his space unlocked, ready to entertain any of his brother's who dared to venture in. 
Inside, a stack of boxes were evident from the hallways glow. As he flicked on the light, the rest of the room came into view. The boxes had been leaned against the first of three shelving units, each housing trinkets he'd bought from treasure hunters. Some were his own finds, but that was a secret he'd learned to keep between himself and the crew he traveled with. Despite what his brother's thought of the hobby, Gordon took great strides to ensure junk yard owners were aware and compensated for the time spent on hunts. 
The walls beyond held other types of treasures - trophies and ribbons that spanned the entire space. From his first races to his last, the little ribbon held just as much importance as the gold.
Further in were Gordon's tanks and he stopped briefly to check on his two new reef fish he'd discovered struggling to survive after one was injured and the other a host for a parasite. Another week and they'd be good to go back home. 
The last wall held maps, none like the one under his arm, however. These held currents and ocean geographical locations. Pins and scribbled notes were dotted all around it in a rudimentary pattern of research. Of course, Gordon had the holographic maps with precise data, but there was always something nice about doing things the old way, just for the experience. It was as good a place as any to set up their game of vacation darts.
"Alright, let me do that," Virgil said, rolling his eyes fondly as Gordon fumbled with the map despite his cast. Once it was in hand, Virgil tacked it up with some of the already existing pins overtop Gordon's research. "You sure this won't mess up your studies?" 
"They'll be fine," he smiled at the consideration of his work. "Plenty of holes already, shouldn't hurt to add a few more. Bonus points if we land one in a pin!" Gesturing to the map, his grin widened, "Age before beauty."
Right. Trust Gordon to turn it into another challenge. Virgil stepped back for a better view, making sure the map display was straight and sturdy. His gaze lingered on the tanks and displays as he turned back to his brother. On anyone else that mischievous grin would look like someone up to no good. On Gordon, it looked like a Tuesday. 
“I’m not entirely convinced that you wouldn’t just aim for the ocean on principle. Nearest island city if we land in the drink?” he proposed, satisfied when Gordon nodded. Despite Gordon’s enthusiasm for random, Virgil secretly hoped they did land near a populated area if not for Gordon’s sanity, for his own. Entertaining a bored Gordon was not among the top of his resume. 
The plan was to each throw a dart to find their options, and then they’d choose between the two. Internally, Virgil knew he wouldn’t be doing any choosing. It was Gordon who was injured and needing the change of scenery. 
Virgil felt the weight of the darts in each of his palms and practiced the motion without releasing them to decide which throw felt more appropriate for his hands. He didn’t have Gordon’s sharpshooting aim, but he did have an advantage being ambidextrous. 
Except, Gordon’s cast was on his dominant hand. 
“Hold these,” he ordered, handing the darts to his brother, as he then stripped off his outer flannel and rolled the fabric up lengthwise so that it could fit around his head and then some. The longest point was the wingspan of the sleeves, which he tied behind his head as the world went dark. “Spin me.” 
The sheer joy he felt at this turn of events left Gordon stunned for a moment, unable to take his eyes off his brother. It was only a short pause before he took full advantage of what Virgil had given him and began carefully turning him on the spot. At about the tenth turn - and a low grunt that told him that was plenty - Gordon positioned his brother back to facing his target.
Taking a step back to give Virgil plenty of room, he cheered, "You're all set!" 
"See if I trust you ever again," Virgil mumbled while his stomach settled, though it was not packed with any heat. He knew what he was getting into by offering, and though his body rebelled at the spinning in his brain, he smiled at the laughter vibrating from the fish beside him. 
 Without thinking too much about it, he let the dart fly knowing that it was in Gordon's best interests to make sure he was facing the right way. It would be his own valuables at stake if he'd attempted any other trickery. 
The small dart gave a satisfying thunk as it pierced through paper and corkboard. Virgil lifted the makeshift blindfold from his eyes, the curiosity getting the better of him while the world swam as it came back into view. Gordon was laughing beside him. 
"Where'd I hit?"
Calming his laughter enough to speak, the blonde pointed, "In the ocean, just to the left of Tracy island. Not sure Scott would go for that one." Stepping forward, he nudged his brother out of the way. "I'll go and then you can try again." 
Taking one of the darts, Gordon tried positioning it in the fingers protruding from his cast, finding his dexterity greatly inhibited. A noted glare from the medic beside him and he begrudgingly switched the dart to his left hand. For only a second, he considered the blindfold, but with his handicaps, he'd be lucky just to hit the wall. No, this was fair. 
Aiming towards a small patch of islands he knew fondly for their beaches and street food, Gordon aimed and threw. The dart arced, bypassing the islands and landing to the left, of the coast of India. 
"Ooh, it's been a while since we went to Sri Lanka. Alright, Virg, your turn."
Virgil accepted the dart and lowered his flannel blindfold for an attempt to land somewhere other than Tracy Island. 
Over the next few minutes, they landed numerous pinpricks over the map, from Tokyo to Chicago, and had managed to plan their next three trips for times off duty. 
Gordon was mid-turn on a dizzied Virgil when Scott came knocking on the door. He swiftly entered,  knowing Gordon kept his study a welcoming space. After evaluating the scene - the world map on the wall, his darts a murder over Europe, his brother blindfolded with his own shirt - Scott sighed deeply, rubbing at his temples. 
"What is going on in here?" 
So wrapped up in the fun of spinning his co-pilot, Gordon startled with a quick laugh, "Oh, Hey, Scott! Um, well, we couldn't decide where to go for vacation, so we're leaving it up to darts and a map." He gestured to the wall in excitement. "You'll be pleased to know it's very productive."
"Hmm. Well, don't throw that yet, Virgil," Scott warned. He ducked under the path of Virgil's questionable aim and collected a number of his darts. "I'm going to need these back after the call I just had." 
After a beat, he turned back towards them, flicked one of the darts into position and let it fly toward the world. "Actually, I'd rather come with you." 
23 notes · View notes
squiddokiddo · 1 year
Note
Tumblr media Tumblr media
**cuddles** 💛💛💛
22 notes · View notes
Note
Tumblr media Tumblr media
1 note · View note
gumnut-logic · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
“Hold still.”
“’irg’l, ‘m fine!”
“You’re not fine! Hold still!”
“’S only a bl’d nose.”
“I need to check it anyway. I hit you hard.”
“Lucky sh’t.”
“Hold still!”
Gordon let his shoulders drop and held still. Virgil was beside himself over this. It was obvious. It was only a blood nose, for crying out loud. It wasn’t like it was his first.
The scanner’s yellow light flickered over him and Gordon flinched. So damned bright.
Of course, this just set off Virgil even more. “We’re going to the infirmary.”
“’irg-“
“Now.”
Okay, that was an elder brother command. Gordon wasn’t stupid enough to disobey that. His shoulders dropped just that bit lower and Virgil’s gentle hand wrapped around his arm and led him from the gym.
“I’m sorry, Gords.” It was said with so much guilt, Gordon rolled his eyes.
Ow.
The hand on his arm tightened.
It was a lucky shot. There was no way in hell Virgil could best him in hand to hand. If Virgil pinned him, maybe. He had the mass and the strength. But Gordon was fast and his smaller stature a major advantage. His big brother couldn’t catch him on the best of days.
Except for today, apparently.
The infirmary loomed as they exited the elevator. It did that. Gordon hated any medical setting…for good reason…and the infirmary on the Island was no exception.
He was deposited on the bed with a firm but gentle nudge, told to sit upright and to tip his head forward.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, he knew the treatment for a nosebleed.
Blood tasted awful.
He closed his eyes a moment.
A soft touch to his face and blood was dabbed off his skin. A quiet rumble of query.
It repeated and a frown formed in the air.
A hand on his shoulder. “Gords?”
“Hmm?”
Ow. Virgil’s fist had definitely left a mark on his sinuses.
“You with me, Gordon?”
“Mmmmhmm.”
A rustle of instruments and a finger peeled back his right eyelid. A sharp flicker of light hit his retina and he flinched away. “’irg!”
“Hold still.” Strong hands made him do exactly that.
His reward was another finger peeling back his other eyelid and that retina being equally assaulted.
“’irg!” He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned as that caused his whole face to echo the pain in his nose.
Virgil didn’t answer, but he didn’t let go of the now firm grip he had on Gordon’s shoulder. A hum started up and Gordon let a breath out as the scanner flickered over him again. “’irg’l, ‘m fine!”
His brother still didn’t answer, but the bed under him shifted, its head rising under his right hand.
“Lie down.”
“’irg-“
“Lie down.” Okay, there was something in his brother’s voice that bore no argument. Gordon opened his eyes and found worry in his brother’s.
Those brown eyes blurred a little.
What?
He dragged his feet up onto the bed, his exercise sweat pants riding up above his bare feet. A shuffle and he had to admit it was a relief to have the back support, top half of the bed up as far as it would go. His head was throbbing. He must remember not to try and stop Virgil’s fist with his face ever again.
As to why his brother had managed to even touch him was a worry in itself. Virgil was good, but he wasn’t that good. Gordon had been dancing around him for years. As his co-pilot, Gordon saw it as part of his duties to help his brother with his hand-to-hand. Of course, between himself and Kayo, they helped all the brothers, even Scott who had his fair share of training in the Air Force. But Gordon had always had a special thought for Virgil. His brother was a wall of muscle, ‘built like a brick shithouse’ was the popular phrase. But muscle didn’t necessarily equate to good self-defence and Virgil was a softy from way back. There had been incidents with the occasional over zealous fan, but also one of Gordon’s nightmares was what would happen if someone with less kind intentions got a hold of any of his brothers.
Virgil was too damned nice for his own good.
So, Gordon took it on to look after him.
But today…why had he let Virgil hit him?
“What happened?” The deep voice of his eldest brother and Gordon realised his eyes had slipped closed again. Opening them was a mistake. The lighting in the room had apparently taken on nuclear fusion in an attempt to compete with the sun.
He groaned and shoved his eyes closed again.
“Gordon?” Virgil’s hand landed on his arm.
“You suck.”
“And you’ve got a concussion. I’m sorry, Gordon.”
What?
“Report, Virgil.” Great, the Commander was out which meant Scott was upset. It was only a bloody nose, for goodness sake.
Virgil’s sigh was a mix of worry and regret. “My fault. I hit him.”
There was silence for a moment. All Gordon could hear was his heartbeat in his sinuses.
“You hit Gordon?” Gordon should be proud at the amount of disbelief in his eldest brother’s voice. Or worried at his lack of confidence in Virgil’s skill.
One or the other.
Maybe both.
God, his head hurt.
“I shouldn’t have let him spar. But he was upset after today and I wanted to help.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“Because I wasn’t much better, Scott!”
Oh, shit, Virgil. “’S not your fault.”
There was a lack of an answer and that worried Gordon more than anything Virgil could have said to him. He threw out a hand and scratched at a shirt. Fingers caught his, but they weren’t Virgil’s. “Sco’, ‘s not his fault!”
“Gordon, rest you have a stage two concussion. You know that is something you don’t mess with.”
Yeah, well, Virgil has a lot of muscle behind his fist.
Gordon let a breath out between his teeth and relaxed into the bed. Virgil was obviously pissed at himself and he would have to talk him around at some point.
Gentle fingers touched his face again. Soft cloth wiped a cool liquid across his skin.
“The bleeding has stopped.” Virgil’s baritone was quiet and worried. “However, there is some swelling….and there will likely be bruising.”
Swelling? Bruis-….aww, hell, he was supposed to be going out with Penny tomorrow night. A charity gala, it was important to her.
Hell.
“I’m so sorry, Gordon.” Little more than breath.
This just sucked.
He knew the results of an impact to that part of a face. He’d had to do it enough himself.
Then something else occurred to him.
“Did you break m’ noze?”
Silence.
“’irg?”
“Not broken. Hairline crack.”
“’uck!”
“I’m sorry, Gordon.”
He flung out a hand again and this time managed a handful of cotton t-shirt. He dragged it closer. “’Snot your fault!”
Virgil didn’t answer, but his fingers were pried from that t-shirt and held for just a moment, only to be let go as Virgil moved away suddenly.
Gordon flailed, reaching. A footstep and those hands returned with something cold. Towelling, cold as ice.
Gentle hands gathered his and moved to his face. The cold pack melted into his skin and gave him some blessed relief.
“Hold that there.”
“’Snot your fault.”
Again, there was no answer.
A finger brushed hair from his forehead.
God, Virg.
“Rest, Gordon.”
He wanted to yell at his brother. It was a lucky shot after a sucky day. It wasn’t anybody’s fault.
“Rest.”
A blanket was draped over him and its warmth became something he hadn’t realised he needed.
“Grandma’s on her way back from Auckland.” Scott said it to the room at large.
Oh crap.
“Good.”
Gordon mentally went through what he had in his own fridge in his rooms and came up with very little. Maybe he could coerce Virg to grab him something otherwise he might expire from his grandmother’s ‘curative’ efforts.
“Don’t worry, Gordon. I have a stash. You’re covered.”
Actually, come to think of it, Virgil would probably go out of his way to do anything and everything for him over the next few days.
There was both glee and worry attached to that thought.
“Rest.” A hand returned to his forehead and stroked away what was likely a phantom hair. Virgil always had the urge to touch.
To heal.
Too good for his own good.
Those fingers slipped away again.
Gordon let himself sink a few more millimetres into the mattress.
Scott was still in the room. He could hear his breathing. Virgil was beside his bed.
He was safe.
His head hurt.
It had been an ass of a day.
Too tired to get out of the way of his brother’s fist.
Stupid move.
Stupid.
Virgil murmured something.
Scott whispered in return.
Gordon let himself drift.
-o-o-o-
FIN.
35 notes · View notes
weirdburketeer · 3 months
Text
Wishing you a Christmas full of light,love and laughter for you and yours.Hugs being sent who will find this year’s festivities hard 😘🎅🏼🎄🌟💗🌈
@cg29 @gumnut-logic @womble1 @tracybirds @janetm74 @godsliltippy @louthestarspeaker @mariashades @thundergeek59 @astranite @katblu42 @kayo-kyrano and all the rest of the #Thunderfam that my mush of a Long Covid/cyst brain won’t let me remember.
Thank you all for the many,many hours of entertainment 😘
Tumblr media
#TAG #TOS #Thunderbirds #ScottTracy #VirgilTracy #JohnTracy #GordonTracy #AlanTracy #JeffTracy #KayoKyrano
Tumblr media Tumblr media
52 notes · View notes
janetm74fics · 8 days
Note
Hello! :)
Writer's Truth or Dare
🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats  (if you're okay with that!)
🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis
🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them
Thanks for asking!
AO3 Total Stats:
User Subscriptions: 49 Kudos: 9,807 Comment Threads: 3,251 Bookmarks: 1,072 Subscriptions: 591 Word Count: 1,312,790 Hits: 135,679
Tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis:
There are so many! @yarol2075 @astranite @phading @godsliltippy are only a tiny fraction.
Tag my biggest supporters:
@the-original-sineater and @mariashades are my biggest supporters and helpers and I doubt my muses would be as kind without their constant cheerleading.
@edutainer2022 who does some excellent shorts that I have found inspirational
@womble1 and @tikatu for their running with Movements and adding ideas and snippets
Once more there are so many more - more than I can name
20 notes · View notes
tagsecretsanta · 3 months
Text
From @godsliltippy
From @godsliltippy to @mrmustachious
My prompt was:
2. The bros are invited to Lady Penelope's annual holiday ball, but it all goes disastrously wrong.
Tumblr media
42 notes · View notes
tbirds · 3 months
Text
Welcome to our December photo dump…
Here we are wrapped in glittery tinsel 😊
Tumblr media
Gordon made sure the key for Santa was on the tree 🎄
Tumblr media
Virgil drank loads of coffee
Tumblr media
Scott had a Whiskey and a headache in the morning
Tumblr media
We all got dressup costumes for Christmas 🎄 We can also use them at other times throughout the year
Tumblr media
Scott’s is a police outfit, Alan’s a Snowman, Gordon is a reindeer, John a Wizard and Virgil got his doctor outfit
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hope everyone has a nice evening and a New Year filled with lots of peace and love.
Tumblr media
@alexthefly @ak47stylegirl @katblu42 @drileyf @gordonthegreatesttracy @dragonoffantasyandreality @inertplanetary @janetm74 @mrmustachious @misstb2 @psychoseal @soniabigcheese @sugar-fiend @thundergeek59 @weirdburketeer @godsliltippy @heckincuddlies @jbarkerstargazer @bonsaiiiiiii @the-lady-razorsharp
37 notes · View notes
sugar-fiend · 22 days
Text
Welp, here begins the first of hopefully a few little fics with my TAG OC @jade-tracy-is-go 💙
Hope people enjoy the read - kudos / comments are always welcome 💙
Special shout out to @godsliltippy for March of the OCs 💙💙💙
Couldn't tag the account for the prompt, but maybe it's because the prompt is also ancient 😅🙈
F.A.B. 💙
16 notes · View notes
alexthefly · 8 months
Text
Snakes on a Thunderbird
For @godsliltippy for TAG MiniBang 2023 (@tagminibang)
Inspired by this adorable piece of Fishtank art here. (@tippystreasurebox)
Trigger warning for snakes. Also brief mention of animal neglect, plus some minor whump and peril.
Tumblr media
As Virgil went through his post-flight checks, Gordon twisted and revelled in the several satisfying pops his back made. 
“Oh god, that is so much better! Want me to crack yours for ya, Virg?”
There was a grumble of disapproval from his right. 
“I’ll pass thanks. Hearing yours was an experience in itself. In fact…” 
His brother reached over and snagged the small metal box Gordon had been carrying on his lap. 
“...perhaps I’d better take that before you do yourself any more damage.”
Gordon rolled his eyes and snatched the box back with perhaps just a little too much snap.
“Right Virgil(!) ‘Cos hauling passengers and crates off of a sinking ship was fine, but this last hundred yards to the rescue centre is where things gets really tricky(!)”
The rescue hadn’t really been all that bad physically. The crates in question had been lighter than expected, though that was because apparently properly feeding the various animals inside had clearly not been much of a priority for the smugglers on board; about as high as safety and ship maintenance had been. And although Gordon’s back was definitely starting to twinge a bit now, he’d have been a lot happier to be a lot achier if it meant those poor creatures had been treated right.
Well, whatever. He’d stayed professional. …Mostly. That Johnny hadn’t mentioned his little brother's prolonged blue streak ricocheting over the comms was likely a sign that he’d felt the same way.
The fact the GDF were already briefed and waiting with an arrest warrant the second they’d touched down was probably another one.
A yellow light broke through his thoughts and dragged him back to the present. He batted the medi-scan away with a grunt.
“Would you quit it, Virg? I’m fine.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
Gordon opened his mouth, ready to deliver a witty yet devastating retort, but then thought wiser of it. Better to just let the big guy get it all out of his system. He'd only worry otherwise, and a worried Virgil was a pain in the backside, especially with the flight home and debrief to get through. He closed his mouth and submitted to the inevitable with a huff.
Virgil for his part stayed quiet too as he completed the scan; once it was done, he continued to look Gordon over with the practised eye of both a medic and a big brother.
“Well, Doctor Virgil? Are you done? Can we go now?”
Another moment of scrutiny. Then: 
“You know today was a good day, right?”
Dammit. The big green angst-detector strikes again.
Gordon really didn’t want to talk about it now.
“Whatever you say, bro.”
“I mean it,” Virgil insisted. “You’ve said it yourself - this shelter is the best. They've got the facilities and the expertise; they’ll take good care of all these guys, big and small. And the GDF will make sure the people that did this get what's coming to them."
“Uh-huh.”
"Gordy, the good guys won. Take the win.”
Honestly it didn’t feel like a win. Not even a tiny one. The memory of all those sad little eyes was too raw. It was going to take a lot for it to fade into the background, and he just didn't have the energy right now. All he wanted was to get everything unloaded, go home, swim ‘til he couldn't think anymore and then crawl into bed and sleep for 12 hours.
"Virg, could we please do the pep talk another time? The shelter staff are waiting for us."
A little frown appeared on his brother's brow, but he sighed and nodded.
"Are they all okay in there?” Virgil asked instead, nodding at the box balancing on Gordon’s dashboard. 
It was an obvious change of subject, but a welcome one. Gordon gave the portable incubator a protective little pat.
“Should be. I candled them earlier and they look good. Not pipped yet, but I think it should be soon.”
He blinked as a sudden thought occurred.
“Actually," he said as he opened the incubator lid and retrieved the covered tray inside, "I’m just gonna check they’ve not been turned mid-flight. I’ve been holding them steady the whole way over, but you never know.”
“I thought you were supposed to turn eggs?” said Virgil with a hint of confusion. He leaned across to watch what Gordon was doing. "Grandpa said it stopped the embryo getting stuck."
“That’s for birds. Snakes are different. All the little veins and stuff are fragile; you flip the egg, the umbilical cord tears away and they die.” 
Gordon gingerly lifted the lid and peered inside. 
"Of course, these guys are almost ready to hatch so I don’t know how much of that appli-”
But the rest of his thought died on his tongue as he lifted the lid and took a look inside.
A beat.
“What?”
“Erm, not sure. Hang on a sec…” Gordon gently slid the eggs to one side of the tray and running his gloved hands very carefully in the sandy substrate below.
"Where are you?" he muttered softly.
"Where's what?" Virgil quickly jumped to his feet, unease radiating from every pore.
"One of the eggs must have hatched in transit," explained Gordon, still rifling through the soft gravel, looking for any flash of movement. "Once the shell breaks they usually take a few hours to come out, but I guess with all the jiggling…"
"Okay, so presumably there should be a snake in there then. Where’s the snake, Gordon?!"
Gordon kept digging, slightly more urgently. 
"Some snakes bury themselves down into the substrate after hatching - it’s a kinda protection thing. They wait there for their first shed, then they come out looking for food."
Virgil reached out gingerly over Gordon's shoulder and picked up the soft and clearly empty egg shell, complete with a neat split down the middle. He held it softly in his hands, turning it over and over as if he might find the wayward snake still clinging to it somewhere.
"Exactly what sort of snakes are these, Gordy?" he asked slowly, deliberately.
"Umm…”
“Gordon!”
“I don’t know! I’m not a snake expert, and you can only tell so much from just the eggshell anyway.” 
He set the tray onto the dashboard and started checking inside the incubator itself, just in case. He could feel heat starting to rise across his cheeks.
“Gords, could it be… poisonous?”
Gordon swallowed back the sour taste in his mouth.
“I don’t know.”
There was a moment of horrible silence as those words sunk in. Of course, the chances of the snake being venomous were slim - only about 10-15% of known species were after all - and in any event their uniforms were designed to withstand pretty much anything, but there was still that tiny sliver of doubt in his mind. Was Brains far-sighted enough to have considered snake fangs as a variable during the testing phase?
Virgil took a step back, eyes darting everywhere, and tapped his wrist controller. 
“I’m not picking anything up. John? Any chance you could run a sweep of the cockpit for… uh… unusual heat signatures?”
“Unusual?” 
John’s projected image leapt out of the dashboard holo’ right in front of Gordon’s face, causing him to almost fall off his chair. 
“What sort of unusual?”
Virgil cleared his throat in a far-too-obviously guilty way. 
“We’ve kind of… misplaced something.”
“O-kaaay… What sort of something?”
Gordon opened his mouth to say… Actually he wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but in any case Virgil got there first.
“Can you just do it please, John?” he asked, brow furrowed. "Now?"
The look John shot them both could have stripped paint, but he turned away and started swiping.
“No unusual readings found,” he said after a few seconds. "Perhaps if I knew what I was looking for…”
Gordon caught Virgil’s eye. Despite his obvious concern about the situation, the big chonk was clearly still trying to cover for him. 
He really was the softest marshmallow.
But as touched as he was, right now the most important thing wasn't avoiding blame; it was finding the snake before anyone got hurt, including the creature itself. There would be time to wriggle out of Scott and John’s inevitable lecture later.
“The signal’s likely very subtle,” he said, drawing John's attention. “He’s cold-blooded, so his core temperature’s gonna be mirroring the immediate environment. Look at components a little below body temperature and check for tiny, unexplained fluctuations.”
“Cold-bl… You lost a reptile?!”
“A snake,” clarified Virgil.
There was a moment while John processed this new information, then he closed his eyes and pinched the top of his nose. 
“Of course it's a snake(!)” He sighed. “EOS? Did you catch all that?”
EOS’s voice rang through clear over the comms. “Yes, John. Checking now…”
“In the meantime,” said John, “I suggest you put your helmets back on, just to be safe. The less exposed skin you two have the better.”
The brothers nodded. 
Gordon set the incubator down and grabbed his helmet from the dash in front of him, just as EOS brought up a schematic of the cockpit onto the screen in front of him.
“There’s a slight irregularity in temperature around the co-pilot’s control panel, but it’s too indistinct to pin down to a specific component.”
Gordon’s eyes darted all over the dashboard in front of him. 
Where?
Scrabbling to push his chair back and get his helmet on, he vaguely heard Virgil say something about lifting the main cover off the console before he was suddenly distracted by a sharp, stabbing pain in his right cheek, just above the jaw.
“Yeow!”
Virgil was by his side immediately, mediscanner in hand. “What?! What is it?”
Gordon remained in his chair, sitting stock still.
"Don’ scan.”
"What?"
"Don' scan. Th' noise'll scare 'im."
Virgil's eyes went wide.
"Where is it?" he whispered, looking him up and down.
“I’z on m’ face."
“What?!?”
“On. M’. Face. W’z inside th’ helmet.”
Virgil and John exchanged a panicked look.
…Yep.
By rights, Gordon should have been scared. After all, there was a chance he could die here; the little danger-noodle might be pumping deadly venom into him by the second. But surprisingly he wasn’t overly worried about that possibility just now. In fact he felt strangely calm and clear-headed. What was done was done after all, and the priority now was to a) not do anything to make the snake strike again (him or Virgil); and b) get it secured.
“Ah’m gonna slowly r’move th’ helmet," he mumbled, trying not to move his mouth too much. "When y’ see ‘im, grab ‘im c’refully b’hind th’ head an’ unhook ‘im.”
Keeping his head stock still, he looked sidelong at his big brother to check he’d understood. Poor Virg looked pale, but he nodded and shifted into position in front of him, mouth set in a grim line. Behind him, John's face was a picture of worry.
“R'dy?” Gordon asked. 
Virgil nodded, hands poised.
He gave a little blink in lieu of a smile. “Okay."
Deep breath.
"One. Two. ‘Hree.”
And slowly he took off his helmet.
Virgil reached forwards and closed his hand next to his face. Gordon's skin pulled painfully for a moment, then released, leaving a sharp echo across his cheek.  
He exhaled in a big whoosh that seemed to come from his very soul, and raised his eyes to finally look on the thing that had bitten him.
“Scanning for a species match now,” said John urgently as Virgil stepped back, holding the offending creature out at arm’s length. “Cross-matching size, markings and-”
“It’s a Children’s Python!”
“A what?” Virgil asked roughly.
John took a massive breath in. “Oh thank god! Are you sure?”
“Certain,” replied Gordon, finding his feet and bouncing over to look a bit closer, all concern for his safety gone. “We had one as a class pet in 5th grade. Native to Northern Australia. Fantastic pets.”
“I can confirm the identification, John” said EOS. “The species is non-venomous.”
All the remaining colour drained from Virgil's face. He lowered himself down shakily into his chair, arm still outstretched. “Well in that case would someone please come and take this thing out of my hand before I have a heart attack?”
“Oops! Yep, give me one second…” 
Gordon grabbed the tray of eggs and fished out a roll of electrical tape from one of his console drawers. 
“This should keep the lid secure until we can get him into the shelter, at least.”
Gordon reached out and gently took hold of the little snake, who had stopped thrashing around and instead seemed content to curl its body gently around his hand. He took a second to admire its beautiful mottled markings in light and dark brown, and the gentle undulation of muscles pulsing as it moved.
"Hey, little guy."
The tiny snake flicked its tongue at him, tasting the air.
Slowly, gently, Gordon encouraged the snake back in the tray, extracted his hand, and then put the lid on and taped it down.
As soon as the tray was closed, John seemed to deflate like he was the one who’d been punctured.
“Please, for the love of god, don’t ever scare me like that again, okay guys? My cortisol levels can't take it."
"Take it easy John," soothed Virgil as he stumbled over to examine Gordon's cheek. "You sit back and have a float and we'll finish up here." 
He took Gordon by the chin and turned his face to the side. 
"...C'mon Blofeld, let's get you cleaned up."
Fifteen minutes later and sporting a natty Baby Shark band-aid on his cheek, Gordon skipped across the animal shelter car park towards the front desk. Alongside him, Virgil carried the now-definitely-sealed incubator. (Gordon had argued it was his privilege as 'the walking wounded’ not to have to carry stuff. Virgil had just rolled his eyes and agreed, muttering something about checking for himself to ensure no more 'jailbreaks'.)
Behind them, a dozen or so vets and other volunteers were unloading the various other crates of animals from Two's hold, checking them over and directing them to their respective enclosures.
Gordon grinned.
"Feeling better now?" asked Virgil, quirking a smile in reply.
He was, in more ways than one. Somehow, staring into the face of that tiny serpent had made him feel a lot more positive about everything. Nature really was amazing. If a baby creature, just out of its egg, could survive and protect itself in a hostile environment like that little one had today, then with a little bit of care he was sure the other animals they'd rescued would as well.
Life was good. He had his health, he had his family, and they’d done good today. 
Suddenly overcome with happiness, he couldn’t help doing a little jumping air punch, earning a low chuckle from his left.
"You were right, Virg. Today really was a win.”
Virgil raised an eyebrow at him. "Not sure I'd quite describe it that way, but if you say so. You did still set a snake loose in my ‘bird, though.”
“Hey, don't blame me! I'm as much a victim as you are. Little Hissy Houdini's a force all of his own.”
A pause. “You named him?”
“Yep! Kinda fitting, don’t you think?”
Virgil’s eyes narrowed. 
"You’re not keeping him.”
Gordon gasped dramatically. 
“Virgil Tracy, I am shocked! I would never-”
“Sully the Gully, Puppy Longstocking, Razorbill Bob, the Swift Family Robinson…”
“...again. Never again.”
“Well that’s just as well then, because I don’t think Scott would appreciate finding this little escapologist in his sock drawer, do you?"
As Gordon contemplated all of the delicious trickster-y possibilities that that image brought up, he stretched and gave his back another series of cracks.
Virgil regarded him coolly. "You sound like a goddamn popcorn maker," he grumbled. "Speaking of, I wonder if the others'd be up for a movie night tonight? I feel like we've earned a bit of down time."
"Sounds good to me," said Gordon, flinging an arm around the big man's shoulders. "And I have the perfect one in mind… You like Samuel L Jackson films, right?"
46 notes · View notes
katblu42 · 2 years
Text
I need you all to see this amazing artwork @godsliltippy did for me!! It's absolutely beautiful and has such wonderful details in it! And I totally didn't expect when I commissioned it that it would be completed so quickly!
Tumblr media
Cannot stress enough how much I absolutely love it! Thank you Tippy!!!!
The song he's playing/singing is Now I've Seen You from the musical Honk!
youtube
61 notes · View notes
whatgaviiformes · 9 months
Text
@katblu42 @astranite
I have a rec for you! I didn't want to start a trail on Kat's lovely fic, but if are interested in more 'Bird pov, Tippy's got a whumpy sentient series.
@godsliltippy
5 notes · View notes
uniwolfcorn · 6 months
Text
⚡️THUNDERDOGS ARE GO!⚡️
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
John: Bozori
Gordon: Shiba Inu
Alan: Beagle
Virgil: Newfoundland
Scott: Greyhound
Jefferson: Norwegian Elkhound
Sally/Ruth: Bearded Collie
Lucy: Samoyed
💜🧡🤍💛💙🧡💛❤️💚💙💜💖🖤🤎🤍
Happy Thunderbirds Day
To Everyone!~
Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality, @skymaiden32, @teapotteringabout, @jacksonstarkiller, @alexthefly, @avengedbiologist, @louthestarspeaker, @crunchyluigi, @squiddokiddo, @gumnut-logic, @janetm74, @godsliltippy, @gaviiadastra, @katblu42, @lenle-g, @thundergirl007, @ak47stylegirl, @dreamycloud, @etrnlvoid, @knyee, @greywake, @llamawrites, @tikatu, @willow-salix, @forest-falcon, @riallasheng, @soniabigcheese, @inertplanetary, @mrmustachious, @yarol2075, @galaxytransman, @n-chu4ever💕
Bonus! Here's John with a blanket. He keeps it on at all times XD
Tumblr media
33 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Thunderbirds Day's on its way! Thunderbirds Day's coming this way! >:D
@uniwolfcorn @teapotteringabout @skymaiden32 @knyee @janetm74 @the-original-sineater @amistrio @thundergeek59 @riallasheng @katblu42 @mariashades @room-on-broom @yarol2075 @dreamycloud @godsliltippy
80 notes · View notes
gumnut-logic · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
It wasn’t often that the Tracys got together as a family. Sure, they lived on an island together, saw each other every day and even worked together. But there was a big difference between sharing a room versus sharing an event.
This time around, it wasn’t a special day or anything in particular, but Gordon had decided that the family needed some down time, had sweet talked Grandma who had the power to make it happen and International Rescue had been shut down for an evening.
John was dragged down from orbit a few days earlier so he could actually walk without his gravity assistance. When he complained, Grandma tore him a new one.
He didn’t comment after that, though Gordon swore he heard Eos laughing at him at one point.
Gordon thought it would be somewhat scary to have an AI laughing at you, but John just rolled his eyes and glared laser beams at his fish brother when he realised he was watching.
Johnny was such a soft target, but his revenge was lethal.
Gordon decided on a hasty retreat.
It was a simple barbecue on the beach down by one of the huts. A chance to laze on the sand, chat and just be family.
Now that Dad was home, their family was almost whole.
There would be no daring, to-the-ends-of-the-solar-system rescue for their mother. It just wasn’t something they could fix, so technically they would never be entirely whole again, but things were what they were and Gordon preferred to think positive.
The alternative sucked.
So, barbecue on the beach. Barbecue usually meant Virgil was cooking, but Two had been called out on a rescue just after lunch and that was following the one before lunch and the one after breakfast.
Scott had gone with Virg earlier and Gordon even earlier, but the second eldest waved him away on the third. It was a simple one. He would be back in time to turn the burgers.
He wasn’t.
It was left to John to fend off both Scott and Grandma, as neither were allowed near the barbecue. And while John was a bit more of a connoisseur than Virgil with his burgers perfected rather than barbecued, he still managed a great steak.
Whereas Scott would burn it.
Alan wasn’t allowed near the food otherwise no one else would get any.
Gordon did the salads. He was one to do things to carrots that no one else would think of. Even Virgil admired his radish roses and the salad dressings he created. Kayo sometimes helped him and today was one of those days.
Scott was usually tasked with furniture set up, but today he was hovering in the comms room keeping an eye on Virgil.
After all, three rescues in one day was a hefty workload.
And Dad? Well, Scott got his worry wart genes from somewhere.
“Is he on his way back?” Gordon strode into the comms room to find his father seated at his desk and Scott hovering like a lost soul, both staring at the holoprojector and a hologram of what was obviously Two’s external camera. Virgil was wearing his exo-suit and hauling several large containers onto his ‘bird.
He looked tired.
Gordon frowned. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine, Gordon. Packing up now.” It was still weird when Dad answered a question like that and not Scott.
Especially when there was a furrow on his eldest brother’s forehead.
Dad noticed Gordon’s gaze and looked over at Scott. “He’s fine, son. You worry too much.” Their father swiped at a secondary hologram on the desk, pushed his chair back and stood up. His cane rattled against the chair as he grabbed it to make his way over to Scott.
Who was still frowning. “Sorry, Dad. Just three in a row. He’s supposed to be home.”
“It’s the nature of the business.”
Scott looked at his father as if to say ‘Really?’
Dad cleared his throat. “Hmm, you have a point.” He straightened. “But we have to trust Virgil when he says he is okay.”
Scott’s grunt was non-committal.
Dad dropped a hand onto Scott’s shoulder. “He’s coming home and he’s staying home.”
Scott continued to stare at the hologram of his brother in the centre of the room. It was obvious Scott obviously wanted to skip all that and just have Virgil safe on the Island.
Scott wasn’t very good at waiting.
“Hey, Scotty, can you help Alan with the table?” At least it would have his brother doing something for a few minutes. By then Virgil would be in the air and on his way home.
“Sure.” But it was distracted and those eyes still hadn’t left the hologram.
As if on cue there was the sound of breaking glass and a number of rather offensive words from the kitchen.
As Scott moved almost as fast as his ‘bird, Gordon bit his lip and secretly applauded Kayo’s back up plan.
It worked. By the time Scott felt secure enough to let Kayo loose in the kitchen by herself again – Gordon swore she play acted the scene, any other time a brother would be dead for questioning her capabilities – Thunderbird Two could be heard on approach and all that was left to do was for Scott to run down to the hangars to check on his brother in person.
It was worth the milk jug and the clean-up.
As expected, Virgil was fine. A little tired, yes, but functional and looking forward to the evening on the beach.
He cleaned himself up, donned his flannel civvies and wandered down to the beach.
There was much discussion between John and the tired engineer about burgers until Gordon rounded up Virgil and set him doing fancy things with paper napkins.
If they ended up with fifty swans, twenty parakeets and forty-odd doves, he didn’t care. It was obvious Virgil was beat, running on a post rescue high and just needed something to do. The fact he was somewhat of an origami addict just worked in Gordon’s favour.
It also helped that Grandma sat with Virgil to keep him company.
Dinner was cooked and served. There was a bounty of food. If Gordon knew one thing it was that the key to a good get together was food and lots of it.
John’s steaks and burgers were divine as always, though lacking the char Virgil usually gave them. Gordon had a second helping, regardless.
Scott was still keeping an eye on Virgil, but their engineer brother seemed fine, stuffing food in his face at his usual muscle building rate.
Gordon kept an eye on Scott, noting that the eldest couldn’t seem to drop his concern.
Gordon toyed with the idea of asking Grandma to stall IR for the next day as well. The eldest two could do with a day off, obviously.
He’d talk to her later.
Dessert was an ice cream concoction with just enough alcohol and fruit in it to tickle the senses, topped with a crisp meringue. Basically, it was enough sugar to fuel a Thunderbird.
Which it did. All five brothers definitely appeared brighter after the meal and it was Scott of all people who suggested they go for a swim.
Gordon could never say no to that.
Private islands had their uses and the beach hut had change rooms and supplies for exactly this reason. Hiking all the way up the hill to the villa was not needed. Even Grandma had her own stash of swimwear down here and it was with some vivacity that the family descended on the hut and shed their clothing.
Except for Gordon who had come fully prepared because he was Gordon and there was a beach involved. So, it was with some amusement that he volunteered to tidy up the table while everyone changed clothes.
Scott stared at him for a full ten seconds obviously wondering if he needed to fetch a medical scanner.
Gordon just poked out his tongue and started collecting plates.
Their father had spent a great deal of time in the water since he had returned. Gordon actually enjoyed that fact. It gave him the opportunity to spend time with a man who had not only been missing for eight years, but prior to that had been mostly too busy to take a swim with his son.
There had been talks. Lots of talks. Even a few fragile moments.
The water gave his dad physical support that was sorely needed. John was known to take to the pool or the ocean for the same reason. Alan not so much. The baby of the family was not a water one. He enjoyed it, but his preferred environment involved rocket fuel and orbital stats.
Ultimately all the Tracys liked a fun dip in their private lagoon. Though, if he was honest, Gordon wondered if his brothers would be so eager to stick their toes in the water if they knew of the visitors the caldera sometimes received. He smirked to himself as Alan emerged from the hut, ran yelling down the slope, and barrelled into the water.
Gordon grinned. They weren’t dumb, but the aquanaut had installed certain sensors in the lagoon for a reason. It was his job to protect his family in the ocean, after all.
Scott wandered down the slope at an easier pace. He was wearing blue board shorts and displaying far more tanned skin than most of them.
John didn’t even bother and left his t-shirt on. Obviously taking no chances even though the sun was almost setting. His arms and legs still glowed and Gordon was hard put not to poke fun.
His astronaut brother must have picked up the vibes because he glared as he stalked past.
Grandma stepped down lightly beside their father, both wearing shirts. Dad had unspoken issues about the condition of his body and Grandma claimed that she couldn’t compete with the GQ covers surrounding her.
As far as he was concerned, Gordon was just happy they were there and having fun.
Because they were.
Grandma helped their dad onto the beach and then took a running jump into the water, her strong stroke chasing the eldest out into the lagoon.
It was Kayo who stopped at the edge with their father. Beaches were notorious for transmitting sound and, as he gathered dishes, Gordon could hear her soft voice even at this distance.
She was speaking Malay ever so quietly.
His father replied in the same.
Surprised Gordon couldn’t help glancing in their direction. She was looking up at his father with an expression of such gentleness, her hand on his arm. Gordon’s heart swelled and he looked away. He knew his sister had always been close with their father, but she was usually far from demonstrative. Tin’s early life had done so much to shape who she was today.
Gordon had a hate for her uncle that reached far beyond his own personal injury.
He finished stacking the picnic crockery and cutlery to the tune of the playful sounds in the bay. A quick wash of his hands in rainwater and he turned to face the lagoon.
His father was floating beside Tin and they were obviously having a private conversation. Scott, Alan, John and Grandma were apparently having a race. Gordon stared at that activity for a full moment, noting stroke strength and style. As always, Grandma was the most efficient, but the two older brothers outpaced her simply on strength and youth. Alan’s heart didn’t seem to be in it at all, but then Allie was secretly a softie when it came to Grandma and was probably losing on purpose.
He shared that with Virgil but for entirely different reasons. Virgil looked after Grandma. Grandma looked after Allie and was really the only maternal parent his little brother knew.
Not that he would ever admit any of it. Virgil was obvious. Alan was still far too teenager to admit to anything.
Gordon frowned. Speaking of Virgil, where the hell was the big softie?
Gordon’s eyes tracked over the water. What the hell? There was no sign of him.
He had come down, hadn’t he?
Gordon spun on the spot, hackles rising, eyes scanning the beach, the trail and the hut.
He thumbed his collar. “Eos, do you have a location on Virgil?”
“Hello, Gordon. Virgil is in Beach Hut Number Seven. His comms have been removed from his body and hence security-disabled. I really wish you and your brothers wouldn’t do that. It is disconcerting.”
Gordon didn’t acknowledge the AI, instead darting up the path to the hut.
As with everything on Tracy Island, the rustic little structure was more than it seemed. Security sensors recognised him as he touched the door and allowed him entrance. He swung it open and entered what equated to a mixture of storage facility and functional outpost. From here, any member of the family could get to the hangars fast via a hidden monorail system underground. It was one of several collection points dotted around the Island for sudden callouts.
But it also doubled as short-term shelter and basically a place to stash stuff. From swimwear to water sports equipment to art materials, the not so little huts held all sorts of things.
But the one thing Gordon was looking for was a heavy lifting brother.
He poked through the change cubicles. “Virgil?” It was quiet except for the sounds of the breeze and the ocean in the distance echoing through the still open door.
And the soft sound of snoring.
Really?
He found the last cubicle locked and had to jimmy the door to get it open.
Each change cubicle contained a bench and that is where his found his big brother.
Virgil had somehow managed to curl up on the far too small ledge and was fast asleep.
Gordon let out a sigh of relief suddenly realising exactly how worried he had actually been at his brother’s sudden absence.
The sigh fast turned into a fond smile as the worry slipped away. Not only was Virgil asleep in an odd spot, but he appeared to have fallen into slumber while undressing. His boots lay discarded to one side and his flannel shirt hung from a hook along with his grey t-shirt. But his jeans were still half on, down around his knees. It was almost as if he had sat down to remove them and tipped sideways on the bench, curling up against the wall half naked.
Gordon’s smile turned into a frown.
It would have been prime humour material involving photographs and eternal ribbing if it wasn’t for one factor.
Bruises.
His brother had a number of them down one side. What the hell?
Gordon stepped closer. None looked serious by themselves, but there were enough to suggest Virgil had taken a fall of some kind earlier in the day. An unreported fall. Gordon bit his lip. Unless…
A clatter of wet feet and Scott was suddenly there beside him, dripping on the floor. “What happened?”
Gordon shrugged. “Looks like he fell asleep while getting undressed.” He eyed his brother. “Did he report a fall?”
Scott took a step closer, staring at the bruises on Virgil’s torso. “Yes, but none of this.” A frustrated breath. “Hell, Virg.”
As if responding to his name, Virgil snorted in his sleep and tried to roll over.
And promptly fell off the bench.
Both Scott and Gordon lunged in to catch him, awkwardly scooping up limbs and important body parts, desperate to stop him from hitting the concrete. The man did not need any more contusions.
All three ended up on the floor. And while Virgil hadn’t acquired any more bruising, Gordon’s knees certainly had and there was a definite elbow to his collar bone that was likely to sprout something a little purple at least.
“Virg, wake up.” Scott’s voice was definitely in commander mode, but still soft with that brotherly worry that seemed to be ingrained in his personality.
Another snort and dopey brown eyes opened. There was little behind them for a full moment as they stared up at Scott who was still holding his brother against his chest.
Virgil blinked as water dripped on him. “Wha-?”
“You fell asleep, bro. In your underwear.”
“Wha’ the hell? Ugh, you’re all wet.” Virgil struggled to sit up. Both Scott and Gordon sat back and let their brother right himself.
Sitting up, Virgil let his back fall against the bench and sighed. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Shit, sorry.”
Gordon could hear the creak of his eldest brother’s frown beside him. “And so you should be. What is this?” Scott pointed at the bruises decorating Virgil’s right side.
The engineer blinked and looked down at himself. “Oh.”
“Yes, oh. Why weren’t they reported?”
An arched eyebrow as Virgil looked back up at his brother. “They’re just bruises. It was a busy day.” Those brown eyes latched onto Scott. “I’m okay.”
“You fell asleep while changing your clothes.”
Virgil rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’m a little tired.” But then his eyes turned to Gordon. “I just didn’t want to miss out on the party.”
Gordon’s heart twitched at the honesty in those eyes. “You idiot. We could have done it tomorrow.”
Virgil looked down at his feet. “Probably would have been called out again.”
Gordon huffed. “No, Virgil, because tomorrow is a day off.”
It was Gordon’s turn to be frowned at by Scott, but the aquanaut was having none of it. He held up a hand. “No, Scott, was thinking it would be a good idea earlier and now it is certain. I’m speaking to Grandma.” He pursed his lips. “Or I can skip that step and just convince you here and now while dopey here has his purple decorations on display.”
“Hey!” Virgil got his frown on, but Gordon ignored him, keeping his own determination targeted on Scott.
Defiant blue flared for all of a second before looking down. Scott hated taking International Rescue offline. Gordon understood why and agreed, but there were limits.
Gordon reached out and gripped his big brother’s arm gently. “You need the time off, bro. You’re exhausted as much as dopey here.”
Blue eyes caught his for a moment and Gordon could see the decision being made behind them.
Quiet. “Okay.”
Gordon smiled just a little and squeezed that arm.
“What are you guys doing?” Alan, followed by John poked their heads in the door. “Kayo beat John by a – whoa, Virg, what the hell happened to you?”
Virgil didn’t quite roll his eyes, but he did push himself to his feet. “Work, okay?”
Several sets of eyes landed on Scott expecting a follow up on that statement.
The commander sighed and stood up. “John, can you please notify the GDF that International Rescue will be unavailable for another day at least.”
The space monitor nodded as sharply as usual, despite the fact his hair had obviously been hurriedly scrubbed with a towel and was sticking up in all directions. “FAB.” He slipped out of the room.
Alan was still staring at Virgil.
Another sigh. “Guys, can I finish getting dressed?”
Scott pointed at his brother. “You are going back to the villa to get some shuteye.”
“No, I’d like to go for a swim first and cool down.”
For a moment there, Gordon’s two eldest brothers glared at each other, neither willing to give in.
Virgil’s frown looked to crawl off his face and throttle Scott. “It’s only bruises. A swim, a shower and bed, I promise.”
Scott sighed. “Fine.” His lips twitched a little smugly. “Good luck explaining that lot to Dad and Grandma.” He turned and stalked out of the cubicle, herding Alan with him.
Virgil sagged and sat down with a groan.
He looked so dejected, Gordon felt sorry for him. “Hey, bro. Wear a t-shirt and they will never know.”
His brother grunted and started pulling off his jeans. A sigh. “Thanks, Gords.”
“Not a problem. Gotta look after my wingman after all.” He furnished that statement with a grin.
Virgil arched an eyebrow up at him, but Gordon could see the smile building behind his eyes.
“Go. Get. Let me get dressed.”
“Don’t fall asleep.”
“Get out.”
Gordon cackled and waltzed out of the cubicle.
He didn’t go far. He stopped just outside the beach hut and waited for his brother to finish up. The sun was fast approaching the horizon and everything was a wonderful gold colour.
Down on the beach, Scott was speaking with their father, no doubt reporting the situation. Gordon held back a sigh. Virg was likely in for it despite the t-shirt.
There was more than one way to give a guy a break, for goodness sake.
Dad looked up the hill at Gordon and caught his eyes.
Gordon gave him a mock salute.
If he had to run interference for Virgil, so be it. After all, he meant it when he said he had to look after his ‘wingman’.
Gordon rolled his shoulders and grinned at Scott as his brother looked up frowning.
His wingman needed a break.
So, Gordon would give him one.
-o-o-o-
25 notes · View notes