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lfc21 · 1 year

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Slamming their car door to see how they will react.

TW: Fluff, swearing

Prompt list: Tik Tok

Summary: Virgil loved you and his precious car but what happened when you were the reason the car was about to fall to pieces, maybe.

You sat in the car patiently waiting for the perfect chance to fulfil your prank. You had been to numerous different shop and Virgil had still not noticed the phone strategically placed in a secret way; which you were glad off. You knew this would be a Tik Tok that would send you laughing in hysterics and your followers loving your relationship together. You were finally pulling into a small corner shop for a few bites to eat meaning it was your perfect chance.

"What do you want from the shop babe?" You asked with a smile as the car stopped and Virgil had finally taken his hands off the steering wheel.

"I'll have water and a salad please" He casually asked with a smile as he lazily looked at you and his phone.

"Ok babe I won't be long" You explained quickly checking your recording phone with your eyes and kissing Virgil's soft cheek. You let yourself out of the car before slamming the car door shut without a care in the world. You casually walked away with no acknowledgement of what you had just done before quickly turning back. You noticed Virgil's mouth wide open as he followed your body move around his car. You opened the door again pretending to forget what his order was.

"Babe, what did you say again?" You quickly asked before letting him have any say in the matter and his face in which stood like thunder.

"What the hell did you do?" He snapped back trying to work out what your aggressive force was about.

"When?" You asked dumbly whilst knocking your head to the side and displaying an expression of nothing else but confusion.

"Just then! You nearly took the fucking door off" Virgil explained signalling to the car door you were standing at and holding onto. You shook your head with a laugh. "Anyway I wanted a salad" he added with a cooler and collected voice rather than his protective and aggressive voice due to his precious car. You nodded in agreement before standing back and slamming the door shut again. You could have sworn the earth shook as the door made a connection with the roof. Virgil jumped in his seat at the noise before blasting the horn of the car causing you to turn around in the car park. He rolled his window down in fury.

"Y/n do you want to break my car?" He asked now hanging out of the car window so he could see you. You quickly laughed before walking over yet again waiting to see when he would explode.

"I didn't do anything" you begged with a wine wondering what it was that was getting on his nerves so much, little did he know you were more than aware.

"You have just nearly smashed my car twice in the space of two minutes" he explained as he opened the car door and stood next to it. "You shut a door like this. You know how normal people shut it" he added whilst gently closing the door with a slight push at the end. You looked up at him in complete innocence with a laugh at his protective nature.

"It was for a tik tok" you explained with a giggle as you wrapped your arms around his large torso and rested your chin along his chest. He looked down at you with a smug smirk and a shake of his head. He couldn't be mad, he quite liked your confidence to try and complete the challenge.

"I'll get you back" he explained as he led you both closer to the shop instead of sitting in a car with slamming doors. You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, it went perfectly.

Hey guys 👋🏻 This is my first virgil imagine from the Tik Tok prompt list ❤️ I hope you liked this piece 💜 please leave feedback and requests as they are greatly appreciated 🥰 I'm going to Anfield to today for Liverpool v Chelsea, let's hope we win 🤞have a good day 🙏 masterlist 2022 💌 masterlist 2023 💌

@prettylittletrent @cornertakenquicklyyyy @trentalexanderarnold @robbo38 @robbothegoat @kostasstsimikass @chelseamount @chloereddy @tsimikasfamily @avenirdelight @blueathens @jordanhendersunshine @mrs-henderson @thatonesexycancerian @hendersons1truelover @nyctophilic0vitnir @peekapeaches @tsimikxs @tsimikostas @trentalexarnofan @leddows @moneymasnn @superkittywonderland @virgilvansike @virgilvandickmedown @hopefulromantic1 @robbo-trent-fanfiction26

#lfc imagines #lfc masterlist #liverpool imagines #lfc imagine #lfc x reader #virgil van dijk x y/n #virgil van dijk x reader #virgil van dijk imagines #virgil van dijk imagine #virgil van dijk #footballer x reader #footballer imagines #football fanfic #writing #fanfic #netherlands fc imagines #netherlands fc x reader #netherlands fc x y/n

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loganslowdown4 · 1 year

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Remus: I want to get with him. *points*

Roman: The emo one? Nope, I called dibs on him already.

Remus: No, HIM. *points better*

Roman: Oh brother, good luck with that one.

Remus: He’s so cute and nerdy. And hot. I wanna love him.

Roman: I mean good luck cracking his shell. I want to see how emo boy reacts when I play hard to get.

Remus: Challenge accepted, bro bro. Heh.

*across the room*

Logan: Did you get a chill just now? It’s like I felt… something…

Virgil: *eyeing the twins suspiciously* Yeah, I suspect those idiots are plotting together.

Virgil: *loudly* Hey! What are you two talking about over there?

Roman: Oh! Ah… nothing! Nothing, cutie!

Virgil: … What?

Roman: I mean, nothing… you dang punk! *winces*

Remus: *facepalm* Nice save Ro-boat.

Roman: Shut up.

#look out left brain right brain has zeroed in lol #thomas sanders #sanders sides #incorrect sanders sides #roman sanders #ts roman #logan sanders #ts logan #remus sanders #ts virgil #virgil sanders #ts remus #creativitwins #Intrulogical #prinxiety

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gumnut-logic · 5 months

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Five times Alan discovered a secret and one time he kept one (Part Three)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

This one was a bit of a challenge. It fought me (that and work had worn me out by Friday, so I had to delay writing until today).

Thank you again to the amazing @onereyofstarlight for reading through and her amazing support ::hugs tight::

And Thunderfam, I know I haven't replied to anyone yet (I figure you probably want me writing more fic instead with what time I have :D ) but I have to say you've all knocked my socks off with your kindness with this one. You are a bunch of wonderful people. The Tracys would be proud.

Warnings for all the angst and hurting Tracy boys. This one hurt to write.

I hope you enjoy.

-o-o-o-

Everything was numb.

The room was dim and grey. White sheets, blue curtains, and the beep of medical monitors.

Two of his brothers sat around the bed with him, the third lying pale, wan and silent.

It was all in such contrast to his bright and energetic fish brother. He should be sitting there smirking, telling a truly awful joke.

Lying there so still…

Alan felt the well of grief deep in his belly, threatening to reach up and overwhelm him again.

He shut it down. He couldn’t afford to feel anything right now.

He’d already had his hysterics. There were no tears left. His heart was parched and dry, quietly waiting for the rain.

For the good or the bad.

Scott sat beside the bed almost as still as Gordon. His eyes were fixed on their brother, both hands wrapped around limp fingers, holding on as if to prevent Gordon from leaving.

Again, the thought caught his throat.

He must have made a sound, as Virgil looked at him with red-rimmed eyes.

Alan looked away, back towards Gordon’s sheet-draped body.

“Allie, you want to get something to eat?”

Virgil’s soft words disturbed the silence, shifting Alan’s heartbeat.

He shook his head.

Scott looked up and the pain etched into his face cut Alan’s heart to pieces.

He swallowed hard.

Virgil’s attention switched to Scott, but he said nothing further.

“Allie?” Scott’s voice cracked.

Alan moved without any thought other than hurt. He stumbled around the bed and fell into his big brother’s arms.

Strong arms. They wrapped around him and hid him from the reality in the room.

The reality that Gordon might never wake up.

And if he did, he might not be the Gordon he knew.

Scott drew in a harsh breath in Alan’s ear and the sound that escaped between his brother’s teeth was pain itself.

Alan thought he couldn’t cry anymore, but apparently he could.

He squeezed his eyes shut and refused to let out a sound, clinging to his big brother who was trembling almost as much as he.

He clung for a moment before stronger arms were gently wrapping around the both of them. Virgil was saying something, a soft, whispering rumble Alan didn’t have the energy to understand.

Time passed. He had no clue how much, but when he finally pulled away, nothing had changed. Gordon was still lying there; Virgil’s eyes were even more red-rimmed, and Scott’s expression still hurt.

“Sorry.” Alan’s voice was scratchy and harsh.

Neither brother answered him. Virgil gently rubbed his back and Scott’s hand wrapped around his arm.

Scott’s other hand had crept back to Gordon’s fingers and was again clinging to them.

Alan took a step back and cleared his throat. “I think I’ll go and find Grandma.”

Virgil’s hand stopped it’s circular motion but didn’t leave his back. “Allie-“

He stepped away a little more, his eyes drifting to Gordon, ever so grey and still.

“I’ll be back. I just need…I’ll be back.” He turned away from all of his brothers, dislodging both their hands and darted around the bed to the door.

“Allie-“ Scott calling his name hurt, but he pushed through the door and out into the hospital corridor, striding, then running down the hall.

The nurses on duty frowned at him in concern but he ignored them and ended up at the elevators where a small group of people were waiting.

They all looked at him with as much concern as the nurses.

A sign for the stairs and he pushed through into an empty concrete stairwell, the heavy fire door closing softly behind him and shutting out the world.

He stumbled down steps until everything was quiet and he could let himself fall back against a wall and breathe.

He didn’t want to think. Thinking meant hurting and since that call from Aunt Val, that had interrupted Virgil helping him with his schoolwork oh so long ago, the world had been spinning too fast.

Gordon, his amazing fish of a brother had been in an accident. A hydrofoil going faster than it had any right to, an explosion, death, and the remains of his sunshine brother jigsawed together on that bed.

He squeezed his eyes shut. Really? How did he have any tears left?

His throat ached, his head pounded.

The concrete at his back was cold, seeping through his t-shirt.

Just breathe.

It was John’s voice. His space brother teaching him how to control himself. Panic was not recommended in space.

The stairwell swam a little through the moisture in his eyes.

Panic and emotion are dangerous in space. The first step to controlling any situation is controlling yourself.

He could see his brother floating in front of him on Five.

Scott had been ever so proud of Alan that first trip up to their orbiting Thunderbird. He wasn’t allowed up there for long. Long term effects on growing bones and bodies in space had far too many unknowns. Grandma and Virgil had wired him up like a turkey ready for roasting, drawing as much data as possible as to how his body functioned in space. There was no way his family was going to risk him.

At thirteen he was still nodding at most of what his family told him, but there were frustrations. He wanted to be out there like John. John got to do amazing things while Alan was stuck at home doing schoolwork and could only watch.

But Scott had finally said yes to starting his training and that had led to finally being allowed up onto Five to learn with his brother.

It was amazing.

And frustrating even more because it was all moving so slowly.

Control meant safety.

John’s voice, ever so calm, bounced around his head.

Control.

He closed his eyes and drew in a breath. Let it out, let it take his tension with it.

Draw in another clean breath.

Let it all out.

Another.

Slow your heart rate.

John’s voice was melodic, almost hypnotising.

Calm.

Apparently this would all come naturally…eventually. For the moment he was still learning, but he was determined to get into space and make his family proud.

Scott smiled at him, blue eyes glistening.

Alan let out another breath and…

A door banged open somewhere above, and he jumped.

“I don’t appreciate your tone, Mr Tracy.” Aunt Val’s voice was sharp and commanding.

“And I don’t appreciate the GDF’s lack of assistance in this matter.” John’s voice reeked of sarcastic formality. “It is clear there are suspicious circumstances. Why aren’t you investigating?”

“As I stated earlier, we do not have jurisdiction.”

“Bullshit!”

Alan flinched. John rarely swore. In English, anyway. That was usually a thing for his military brothers.

“Are you going to sit and watch this one out just like you did with the Zero X?

Alan froze.

“John, I-“

“No, there are no excuses, Colonel. This is about family. How many more Tracys have to die before the GDF actually does their job? No wonder my father felt the need to spend billions to save lives. Someone has to.”

“Mr Tracy.” Her voice was like ice. “I understand the stress you are under, so I will excuse your remarks. However…” Her tone softened. “John, I will do my best. I promise.”

“Since when has that ever been enough?”

There was silence after that, followed by a door opening and closing.

Alan forced himself to start breathing again.

A scuffle of shoes on concrete proved that only one person had left the stairwell. The remaining soul suddenly let out a sob.

Moving ever so quietly, Alan crossed the stairwell and peered up the stairs.

His star brother had his back to the concrete wall just inside the fire door. His head was in his hands as he let himself slide down the wall until his butt hit the floor.

The sound of crying echoed down the steps.

John never cried.

Out of all of them, he was the calm one. Likely because of his job in space and that control and all. That and if he did, he did it in space where no one could see or hear him.

So seeing him crumpled on the floor sobbing into his hands…

Alan put his foot on the first step to climb up…

The fire door flew open with a bang.

Alan scuttled backwards into the shadows.

“Oh, John, honey.” Grandma hurried over and wrapped his brother in her arms. She drew his head to her shoulder.

Alan’s eyes widened as John clung to their grandmother, so far from the calm man Alan knew.

“I should’ve seen it.” The words were rasped out.

“You can’t see everything, honey. You’re not a god.”

“But I should-”

“You were busy with Scott in Japan. You were doing your job.”

“Just like I did with Dad.”

“John!”

But nothing more was said for some time and Alan grew more worried by the moment. His family was falling apart.

John was a huddled mess in the corner of a hospital stairwell, the concrete as grey as Gordon’s room.

Alan’s chest tightened again.

“John, Alan, get back here now!” Virgil’s voice was harsh over comms.

Alan didn’t think, he just moved. John and Grandma made it through the stairwell door while Alan was only halfway up the steps. He cursed himself for leaving in the first place.

The corridor was an ignored blur and he threw himself through it at a run. He skidded into Gordon’s room, past a jagged hole in the door itself that hadn’t been there when he’d left.

His family was crowded around Gordon, his fish brother’s eyes open and staring at Scott.

Voice whisper quiet. “Keep th-the noise down. Tryna sleep.”

Gordon’s eyes closed and his face relaxed.

Alan bit the inside of his cheek and looked up at Scott.

Exhausted blue eyes shone with hope.

-o-o-o-

Part 4

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #alan tracy #john tracy #scott tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #sally tracy #grandma tracy #val casey #nuttyfic #thunderangst #all the warnings #this one hurt

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idontknowreallywhy · 7 months

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Play it Out - part 3 of… it’s anyone’s guess at this point…

I promise I am definitely fixing this, the two of them are just taking a really long time about it… and this chapter got quite long before I got anywhere near to the point. Err, enjoy anyway?

This will make even less sense if you haven’t read Part 1 and Part 2… (AO3 link)

Virgil carefully stowed his tools in Two’s specifically designed storage compartments and stretched, stifling a yawn. He checked his watch - 2am already! Gordon had bailed and disappeared off to bed a while ago but he hadn’t realised it had got quite so late… he’d got thoroughly absorbed in those calibrations though and it was satisfying to have it finished.

He wiped his hands on his jeans and made his way over to the elevator, turning to look back at the big green behemoth as he waited for the door to open. He was now 3 weeks ahead on his ship’s routine maintenance schedule and she was purring like a kitten. Between the familiar but challenging work and Gordon’s background chatter, he’d been doing a great job of not thinking too much either. Which was… good. Hopefully if he ignored the weird existential angst feeling for long enough it would go away and he’d get back into the more healthy habit of loving his life.

Which he did.

So.

All would be well.

As he passed through the lounge he was relieved not to find Scott there working until the early hours again. He’d seemed more tense and frowny than usual the last few days and Virgil was incredibly thankful he’d resisted the temptation to unburden himself to his big brother. The last thing that man needed was anything more to worry about.

Not that he wasn’t eaten up with guilt about it anyway. There was a good reason he was never deliberately untruthful with Scott - it felt like a betrayal even if he knew it was for the best. He was a horrible liar at the best of times, and now he could feel his face burning whenever his brother caught his eye. Every time Scott spoke to him, Virgil’s treacherous heart jumped into his mouth and he was almost overcome by the need to confess everything.

Not that there was much to tell.

Except that he was a fool who needed to get a grip and be grateful.

With stealth borne out of years of practice he crept on silent feet past the rooms of his younger brothers and paused at his own, glancing over at Scott’s. A prickle of… something ran through him and he was seized by the sudden urge to burst in and demand a big bro hug. It had been a few days, in fact, since his last. But Scott slept little enough as it was. Tomorrow, then.

Gosh he was tired. He opened the door and made a beeline for the bathroom, beginning to pull his shirt over his head as he walked. He became vaguely aware of a rustling noise from the vicinity of his right foot and shook it irritably, failing to shed whatever had got stuck to his sock. Flannel tangled over his face he reached down and removed the sock, random scrap of paper and all and abandoned it behind him.

Once the grease was washed from his hands and teeth thoroughly brushed he drifted back into the bedroom and went to stand at the window. He squinted into the grey, his eyes finding nothing to focus on as the low lying cloud reflected the light from his bedside table straight back at him. He shivered, despite the villa’s consistent, comfortable temperature.

Tracy Island’s sub-tropical winters were very mild compared to those he’d experienced growing up, but the cooler temperatures combined with the frequent sea mists still made him long to hibernate. He pulled the blinds down and shut it out.

Flicking through the playlist on his tablet, he sought a track guaranteed to send him extra quickly into the land of nod for who knew how long he had before a rescue dragged him back into unwelcome consciousness. He smiled with satisfaction as he hit play on the snooze-jackpot - a soaring violin solo by a British composer - and collapsed face first on to his pillow to enjoy the fine arcs of spring green sound swoop and flutter around him like the songbird it celebrated.

And relax.

He was just on the edge of sleep and beginning to drool slightly when the change in texture brought by the woodwind entry nudged him awake again and he realised something was niggling at his sense of peace. With a huff he turned on to his side and opened his eyes. What had he forgotten?

The sock stared back at him.

Virgil considered himself a fairly tidy person, nothing on the military precision of his father or eldest brother but preferring a significant level of order higher than the younger two. An abandoned sock wouldn’t usually bother him however but, well, turned out a lot of irrelevant things were apparently bothering him lately.

He slid out of bed and commando crawled over to the sock in order to banish it to the laundry basket. It made a unexpected crinkly sort of noise and he pulled out the paper, realising with surprise it was a sheet of the fancy monogrammed stuff his dad had stockpiled long ago but nobody ever used in this digital age. Curious.

Humming to himself, he unfolded the note and the bottom fell out of the world.

A week’s worth of dropped eye-contact and excuses slammed into him like a runaway freight train. The background music was drowned out by a sudden high pitched ringing in his ears and a nausea that threatened to overwhelm his senses as he suddenly saw his attempts to hide the truth from his brother’s perspective. He looked at his watch and swore profusely - 3am.

How could he have been so short-sighted? So selfish? Of course Scott would interpret Virgil’s avoidance of him as a failing of his own.

And he knew… he KNEW his big brother experienced rejection as physical pain. He may as well have kicked Scott in the stomach. In fact, that would have undoubtedly been less cruel.

He struggled back into his discarded clothes, panic making him clumsy and his mind flooded with memories of seeking out his trembling brother in the hayloft. Of finding his hero curled up in agony, borderline incoherent and paralysed by the conviction he’d let their overworked and well-meaning but infuriatingly oblivious father down *again*. That he’d never be good enough.

It had always been Virgil’s job to look him in the eye and promise him that he was.

Not as much had altered in their adulthood as Scott seemed to believe, except that his over-achieving brother hid that pain better from the world. From everyone except Virgil. Because that certainly hadn’t changed - Virgil would always be there for Scott, would always hear that hitch in his breath, the subtle change in the melody of his voice. He would always catch him as he fell, would always seek him out and would never leave him alone.

Until now.

It must have cost his brother so much to write that note and Virgil had just… not showed up.

Stealth abandoned he raced to Scott’s door, only just restraining himself from barging straight through it - he might be peacefully asleep… maybe.

He cracked open the door and recoiled as a blade of cold damp air rushed into his face.

The room was empty. Bedclothes neat and smoothed down, fluffy scatter cushions at 45 degree angle to the bottom edge of the pillow and… an ancient guitar propped up against the headboard. That gave Virgil pause, Scott hadn’t got that out in… a long time. He reached out and brushed his index finger across the strings. It was in tune. He’d been playing then?

His attention was caught by the curtains billowing from the open balcony door, the luxurious material making a low whomp whomp whomp as it flapped back and forth.

His brother had returned from duty with an Air Force zero tolerance approach to clutter but a very definite inclination towards soft furnishings. He shuddered to imagine why.

Surely he wasn’t still out there at this time? In this weather?

Thrusting the drapes aside he all but threw himself on to the balcony, the exasperated reprimand almost on its way out of his lips before his brain caught up with the fact that both easy chairs were distinctly empty. Two glasses and a bottle of Virgil’s favourite whisky waited on the table between them. Unopened.

His hands white-knuckled on the balcony rail, as he peered out into the mist, racking his mind for where Scott could be - maybe he would have taken a hazardous, self-punishing run up the volcano? Would he have gone to hide on the beach? There were caves down there and some of them were tidal, would his brother be thinking straight enough to choose a safe place to tuck himself away? His heart hammered against his rib cage as he tried to work out where to start. Should he call John?

He half raised his arm to activate his comm and froze as the faintest of sounds interrupted his train of thought - a shuddering breath and a whisper of a sigh.

Virgil spun around and his already compromised ventricles were strangled even further as the shadow tucked into the tiny space between the far lounger, the wall and an outsized plant pot resolved itself into a tight ball of limbs and a pale chin just visible beneath an oversized hoodie.

How like his commanding tower of a brother to try to make himself small.

Little music vibe note: the piece Virgil chooses is The Lark Ascending by Vaughan Williams

All the love to @sofasurf @astranite @womble1 @hebuiltfive for incitement their encouragement, sense checking and specifically detailed discussion of soft furnishings.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #play it out #earth and sky #earth&sky #everything is music #music!virgil

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where-are-the-spooky-gays-2 · 24 days

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*materializes into existence*

Hey there :D

I haven't sent an ask in... I don't remember. This is very long.

Calling this the QPP Fae AU.

(cw/tw: mention of death & dead parent, implied/referenced mistreatment & alienation, possible grief and denial, disappearance/missing person, not being believed, abandonment issues, fear of being alone, fear of vulnerability & trusting others, massive anxiety mention, hunters, mention of questioning ones humanity)

Spooky Gays in a qpp. One is a human, the other is some fae creature in disguise. Not the ones ya think.

Fae Virgil not wanting to deal with most humans can they're really mean and weird and why did one of them just down chemicals for a media challenge, huh??

Human Remus being his feral, chaotic self & Virgil genuinely believing he's a fellow fae. No human does that shit, you have no shame, sir, and don't give a shit about human rules, ain't no way you're a human. Remus is very much not like his peers at all, but he loves himself for it. The weirder he is, the better. He rather be alienated from those strict jerks.

It's not like he wants genuine connection, haha, shut up

Remus tells Virgil that actually he's human, but he thinks being mistaken for fae is the best thing ever. Virgil does not believe him for a while before just accepting his human is just a massive feral weirdo.

Virgil and Remus end up in a qpp/partnership. They slowly show trust and vulnerability to each other & find out things about one another. Like Remus' fear of being alone or his abandonment issues that may or may not being related to his missing twin brother who's being missing for almost six months by now. Or like Virgil's massive anxiety bc of unfair shit from other fae & meanie humans/human hunters. Also his fear of trusting others bc he's so used to be betrayed and hurt. They help each other out w/ their things.

And maybe h/c qpp turns into a mystery and thriller as they search for Remus' missing brother, Roman, who disappeared right after a trip into the woods and hasn't been seen since. Remus believes he's still alive somewhere but no one believes him. The townsfolk held a memorial/funeral that Remus refused to attend bc "he's still alive, what are you doing, we have to find him, idiots". Virgil is the only one who kinda believes him bc lots of ppl disappear into the woods and end up in the fae world, it happens a lot, so maybe he's there? So, Virgil uses his fae connections to help look for him & he and Remus look in Roman's fave spots in the woods. As this happens, Remus tells stories of when the twins were younger and they'd go camping w/ each other & how they'd play pretend a lot & when they played make believe Re chose to be a Duke & Ro chose to be a Prince & their mom Rhea would pretend with them sometimes and pretend to be this epic Dragon-Witch or some badass queen. And yus, Rhea is named after the actual mother of Romulus and Remus from the myth.

On this goes, and they find Roman. Not how you'd think. Maybe he'd be dead, maybe he'd be in the fae world. It's neither, kinda. They discover that Roman is, in fact, fae himself and is a changeling with a human form. Which raises so many questions of how the fuck that happened, does that mean Re and Roman aren't actually biological twins, but he's still his brother right, you're still my twin brother, how did he figure that out, he's more human than Remus is, how in the hell? Ya see, all those questions are put off bc Remus found his lost brother and hugs him so tight that he could break him if he wanted. The twins hug each other tightly and Virgil watches fondly in support from the background.

Turns out, Roman started questioning his humanity and discovered he may be fae, so he staged a 'mysterious disappearance' and ran off to figure himself out. He discovered himself, who he really is, what he really is, and he has missed Remus so so much. Remus is like "you asshole why did you tell me they said you were dead pls never leave again I missed you you bastard" and yep, more brother hugs for these two. Virgil and Roman meet, and Ro of course teases Re over having a partner in the most sibling way possible and everything turns out okay! The most likely to be fae isn't fae, and the other "normal" ppl are actually fae and Remus has everyone he cares about again (excluding his Mom cause she's dead but eh).

Anyway, Roman made friends with a fae Logan and Patton & made rivals with a witch/sorceress transfemme Janus. Remus is the only full-on, not magical, human in this entire group. Which is the funniest shit ever.

Oh yeah, and Rhea was a single Mom when she was alive. Best Mom Award, fr. Took the twins camping & indulged them in their interests (to a healthy degree). One of the few who ever supported Remus for being himself.

So, a qpp Dukexiety idea that leads into a mystery about fae, brothers, and transfemme witches. About family and most Dukexiety being dorks together as they go on this journey.

Hope ya enjoy!

Heyo! :}D That literally sounds S O fucking cool I L O V E L O V E L O V E E V E R Y T H I N G about this oml!!! There's S O much I already adore it's got Mystery, Fantasy aspects, The Spooky Gays adventuring and being absolute dorks and trusting to each other, Hilarious concepts (Forever cackling at both the fact that Ree is chaotic and unhinged as shit to the point where Vee doesn't even believe him when he says he's human at first and that the poor Emo Fae's QPP is literally the only non magical person in the group don't worry the C H A O S makes up for it Bud XD) The perfect amount of A N G S T and F L U F F ratio, Wholesome Creativitwins moments (Rhea is forever a Queen for raising such wonderful sons <3) Twists, and just ahhhh I desperately N E E D this <3!!!

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pareidoliaonthemove · 8 months

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Thunderbird Green

In many ways, Jeff Tracy often thought, it was his middle son who was the easiest to deal with. The least likely to kick up a fuss, the most likely to calm down an oncoming tantrum.

Which meant that when Virgil decided to dig his heels over something, it was always unexpected, and always difficult for his family to cope with.

But, to be fair, of all the problems, Jeff had envisaged in setting up a top-secret, state-of-the-art rescue service, this one was never on the radar.

“It’s not right!” Virgil was almost in tears staring at the test panels.

“But it’s …”

“It’s not right!” Virgil turned on his hapless elder brother, who really should have had more sense than to protest. “It has to be right!”

“But …” Scott tried again to make his point, before hastily shutting his mouth as Virgil visibly squared up to him.

It was John who headed off the disaster, “It’s okay, Virgil. We understand, we’ll help you get it right,” he soothed, eyeballing his father and other brothers behind Virgil’s back. Daring them to disagree.

None accepted the challenge.

“But you’re tired, Virgil; and hungry, how about we go and get something to eat, yeah? And then you can tell us what’s wrong, and we’ll figure out how to fix it.”

Virgil mumbled something that must have been agreement, because John carefully led his younger brother away, and towards the house.

John was back twenty minutes later, his Grandmother in tow.

“Virgil’s asleep,” she retorted. “Jeff, if you think these boys are going to work the crazy hours you’ve got them working now, you’ve got another think coming, my son.”

“We won’t be building three Thunderbirds in one go again, Mother,” Jeff reasoned.

Sally frowned. “And what about rescues? And maintenance? If you’re not putting any extra staff on …”

This was an old argument. Jeff went to speak, when Brains hesitantly spoke. “N-Ninety-n-nine perc-cent of the m-m-maintenance will b-be comp-pleted by m-me and M-M-MAX.” He gestured his robot assistant, hovering at his heels like a dog.

Personally Jeff wasn’t sure MAX’s new configuration would be up to the work, the ‘head’, where the main computer and visual input sensors were located was the same, and ‘he’ now had a pivoting, stick-like ‘torso’ under, with two ‘arms’ terminating in pinchers, the torso was attached to a small sled on tracks that provided both locomotion, and allowed the robot to carry tools and parts that might be needed.

Sally sighed, “None of you will ever listen to reason, don’t know why I bother trying.” She looked around the hangar, frowning. “So what has Virgil so upset?”

Jeff answered with a sigh of his own, and gestured towards the test panels. “The colour’s not right.”

There was a long moment as they all considered the five panels sitting innocently side by side, propped against a scaffold.

“Are they …?” Sally asked hesitantly, “All different?”

Gordon shrugged. “Virgil says so …”

Eventually the right colour – but still indistinguishable from the other test shades to anyone but Virgil – was found, and Thunderbird Two acquired her final coat of paint.

The exact nature of the colour was a mystery to Jeff, one that he often pondered on the long waits when he didn’t accompany his boys on a rescue, and was waiting for another update. Or quiet moments when he assisted with her maintenance. When he had a sneaky read of the sensationalist tabloid coverage of the activities of International Rescue.

When he was stranded billions of miles from home in the Ort Cloud.

There were days – so many days – when he dreamed of the green of his son’s craft, a desperate link to home. All the other colours were here: the silver of the Zero X, the blue of the twilight light, and his flight suit, yellow and orange lights warning of the failure of systems that would never work again … the red of blood.

Only green was missing. Only green meant home. Meant ‘safe’. And only one shade would do: the green of Thunderbird Two.

It had been an awful rescue. Avalanches always were, but the sheer number of people involved had meant deaths, and that always necessitated down time.

It had taken two days, but Jeff had finally hunted his middle son down from where he was hiding, and had held him as he wept out his grief and guilt and frustrations, before getting him fed and safely asleep in his bed.

It was then, with Gordon ‘helping’, that Jeff finally noticed what Virgil had been wearing.

“I haven’t seen this in years,” Jeff whispered. “I’d thrown it away. How is it here?”

Gordon’s frown intensified. “What’s with the snow jacket?”

“I was wearing it the day …” Jeff’s voice trailed off. He tried again. “It was brought for that holiday … Your mother …” He stared at the jacket. “I couldn’t stand to see it after … the memories were too much.” He stared again. “But I threw it out. I put it in a pile to go on one of the bonfires … I know it did.”

Gordon frowned. “Virgil must have ‘rescued’ it.” Suddenly he stared, something about one of the sleeves caught his eye, it was inside out obviously having been hastily removed and discarded. “Dad …” he reached out and hesitantly touched the fabric, suddenly as reverent as his father.

Suddenly Jeff refocused on the son in front of him. “Gordon? What is it? What’s wrong?”

Gordon smiled suddenly. “Nothing’s wrong.” He laughed relieved, “I hadn’t noticed it before, the outside is faded, but look, Dad!” He held up the turned inside sleeve. “Look familiar?”

Jeff stared, perplexed, “Yes, I recognise the jacket …”

“Recognise the colour?”

Jeff stared blankly at the jacket again, a slow realisation finally dawning. “He was so particular about the colour … It had to be right … Near drove me mad.”

“John asked him about it once, he said it meant ‘safe’,” Gordon said quietly.

“This was the jacket I grabbed when I run out the door to look for them,” Jeff breathed. “This was the jacket I was wearing when I carried Virgil to the ambulance. I had him half jammed inside this jacket to try and warm him up.” Jeff stared in wonder. “It means safe …”

For a long moment they both stared at the jacket. Neither of them knew what the colour was called when the jacket was sold all those years ago, but to them, now, and to the world at large, the colour had one name: Thunderbird Green.

And it meant ‘safe’.

Notes:

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #fanfiction #my fanfiction #virgil tracy #jeff tracy #gordon tracy #scott tracy #john tracy

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whatgaviiformes · 1 year

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I continued it. Original Post

The room behind the door is bleak, entirely too muted and too quiet for the spitfire of sea and light normally resting within. He raps on the door one more time after opening it, just in case Gordon couldn’t hear, and the mass on the bed shifts under the blankets with a hiss.

Virgil winces. He nudges the door the rest of the way open and slides the food tray on the table beside the bed. The steam from the warm soup dances up towards the ceiling. Gordon’s appetite might be just fine, but Virgil figured it was better to go with safe options. It’s soup, saltines, and water. The lack of movement despite the aroma of chicken broth that fills the room gives him his answer.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Virgil asks.

He finds a spot to sit on the bed where Gordon’s feet are. As much as he wants to clasp his shoulder or rub his back and comfort through the throes of pain, when Gordon’s at his worst, it’s his ankle that’s furthest from the agony emanating through his nervous system.

“No.”

“Do you want me to talk, then?” Virgil offers. “I can if you want. Whatever you need.” The form trembles, but eventually Gordon pushes back the comforter just far enough past his face for Virgil to catch a glimpse of the muddled, honey-brown of his eyes.

He takes the curious gaze as permission to launch into whatever his mind conjures, knowing that his own interests will be enough of a distraction without reminding Gordon of what, at the moment, he can’t pursue outside the four walls of his bedroom. Virgil stays clear of the weather and the ocean and the pool, and instead rambles about the new song his favorite pianist has just released, an artist he’s following that’s been working with 3D sculptures made from scraps found in the trash mines, and his next character idea for the tabletop game John runs for the family.

Virgil settles himself more comfortably at the foot of Gordon’s bed as he talks. He’s going for casual ease, filling the silence with his own swirl of thoughts to replace what normally was Gordon’s chaotic energy and Gordon’s constant stream of consciousness. He doesn’t even know if Gordon’s really listening; even if only by half it’s something, but he’s been quiet.

Midway through his musings about the scale of acceptable types of berries, he feels the muscle under his hand tighten. Virgil sympathetically rubs circles into Gordon’s calf while he rides the wave. It sucks. It sucks more for Gordon, there’s no doubt, but there’s a special kind of helplessness and misery Virgil feels when his siblings are suffering and he can’t do anything about it.

It’s an instinct to hold his breath while he counts out the duration of the spasm.

Eventually the tension alleviates, and Virgil hops up to quickly scour the closet in Gordon’s connecting bathroom for a rag to wet. He warns him a few seconds before he touches his face since his eyes are scrunched shut, but gently Virgil dabs at the sweat on his forehead, cooling him down from the exertion of fighting through the tremors.

Gordon sighs deeply, watching him and tracking him through a glazed expression.

“-rzy,” Gordon tells him.

“Hm?”

“Yer crazy,” Gordon clarifies, staggering through the words, “if you think blackberries are more acceptable than blueberries.”

“Strawberries are top tier. We can agree on that though?”

“Only with chocolate.”

It’s a non-argument, banter that’s only a debate on principle because, in truth, Virgil has no hard opinions on fruit and actually much prefers them mixed into a smoothie anyway. But he scrunches up his nose for effect.

“What’s better than strawberries?” he challenges, pulling the cloth away.

“Grapes.”

“Those are not berries.”

“They are botanically.”

“Well, botanically, you shouldn’t be ranking fruit based on the addition of chocolate.”

“False. Technically the cacao pod is a fruit too.”

“Hm, since we are on the subject,” Virgil prods, diverting the conversation back to more important matters, “you should try to eat.” He takes the package of the saltine crackers and rips the sleeve open, placing it on top of Gordon’s comforter where he can reach easily.

One, two are eaten, a third nibbled on.

“OK.”

Virgil lifts an eyebrow. “Ok?”

“Yeah, ok,” Gordon confirms. “Talk for real.”

“We got your scans back.” It had wrecked Virgil trying to get them; whatever agony Gordon felt had hit suddenly during his morning exercises. He remembered Gordon clutching at him: he’d been damp with chlorinated water, stuck in the shallow end, and any movement to get him to the infirmary shattered through him. The scanner had pinpointed his back, but it wasn’t strong enough to isolate the cause. He knew now. “You popped a screw.”

Gordon sucks in a breath but manages to smile. There’s no joy behind it. “I bet Alan loved that.”

“Huh?”

“You tell him I had a screw loose?”

“Oh. Oh no. Not at all. He’s worried, but no Alan doesn’t know anything yet. Yours to tell.”

Gordon hums, then says, “Such a little thing. It feels like it’s everywhere. Can you -uh- show me?”

Virgil’s reluctant, but carefully, he ghosts a fingertip in a circle along the ridge of Gordon’s spine where their scans showed the shifting pieces of metal. He doesn’t touch exactly where it is, trying as much as he can to avoid aggravating the injury further. It needs surgery. Gordon knows something like that needs surgery, which means hospitals and all the memories and terrors that come with it.

Virgil retracts his hand, but Gordon reaches for it. “You’ll be taking me.”

It’s not presented as a question. Virgil nods anyway.

#Gavii Scribit #It's still basic FishTank and I am predictable

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robertdownerjunior · 8 months

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ineffable bureaucracy is to ineffable husbands the way fizzmodeus is to stolitz

#ineffable bureaucracy #ineffable husbands #fizzmodeus #stolitz #they look at the main ship and say: “i can do that but BETTER”#and they were an unlikely ship that was actually canon and a portion of the fandom was very vindicated #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens 2 #good omens #go2 #helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss #helluva boss s2 ep6 #i have seen the best of queue and the worst of queue and i choose both #virgil shut up challenge

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ronancebyler · 5 months

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gonna make this clear for anyone on my blog.

i do not support Zionism. i do not support noah schnapp. if you do, get the fuck out of my blog.

that is all.

#anti noah schnapp #byler #ronance #free palestine #free gaza #free congo #free sudan #virgil shut up challenge

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romantichore-blog · 2 years

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rambling about learning art under the cut here's a flower for your troubles 🌺

today we found that: my pose game isn't so bad. when trying to draw a pose from a reference, somehow I always get the hips right. like spot on. shape of torso ok too, just get the angles wrong. proportions for the limbs though??? absolutely not. I also draw the whole thing approximately 2x bigger than it should be. a little over the place but I don't hate myself? that's new

#shut up virgil #virgil's art adventure #i have faith that recording it will help me learn better #trust the process i guess #i'm doing a 10 day challenge

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wouldyoustayvn · 1 year

Note

Hey there! Same anon that sent that one angsty scene with Galaxy not eating. I heard something about a challenge to make Yoshi's character suffer? >:3

Ask and ye shall receive hehe. Guess you could call it a prequel.

What had he done?

Virgil's hands shook as he sat on the couch, strength abandoning him after the crime he had just committed in his mind. Just down the hall from him his beloved starlight lay sleeping in bed, not yet knowing of what he had done. But they would once they woke up.

He didn't mean to hurt them...he was just so scared! They had run....they had almost left. What was he supposed to do? They were so desperate to run that they had collapsed from exhaustion by the time he realized what was happening and caught them.

The next few moments had been a blur. He remembered the terror and panic he had felt at realizing he had almost lost them. The fraying thoughts continuing to jumble in his head the longer he looked at them while he took them home.

His hand reaching out towards their leg-

Virgil clenched his eyes shut.

Maybe he should heal them before they woke up. They would never know what he had done. He could talk it out with them. Make them see all the happiness they could have if they would just stay with him.

But then the memories resurfaced. The fear. His heart racing. His starlight's desperation to leave.

No....he couldn't do it. He couldn't heal them. Not until he could get through to them.

They should be waking up any minute now-

A thud interrupts Virgil's thoughts, shooting an electric feeling of fear down his spine as he bolts from his chair and practically lunges into his starlight's room only to find them on the floor just on the side of the bed.

The expression that they sent his way would haunt him for the rest of his life.

"W-wha....what did you do to me?"

Virgil visibly flinched at the heartbroken and disbelieving tone in their voice and the betrayed expression on their face.

"Galaxy-"

"Do not call me that!"

He flinched again, getting a few steps closer until his Galaxy screamed at him to get away as they awkwardly shuffled backward, hitting their head against the dresser and making themselves wince in pain. Both at their head and at their bruised arms from when they fell off the bed.

"Please, let me help you. You're going to hurt yourself." Virgil insisted, shuffling just a bit closer with his hands raised in a placating manner.

"You....you hurt me." The shock in their voice was painful for both parties.

"No!" Virgil shouted, tears coming to his eyes. "No, I would never hurt you!...I just need you to stay. When I saw you trying to leave I-"

His Galaxy flinched as he took a step closer.

"Don't touch me! You don't get to touch me! What did you do to my legs?! I...I can't move my legs!"

Virgil got as close as he could without physically touching his starlight. The last thing he would ever want to do is hurt them. No, this wasn't hurting them! It was just...keeping them still for a while. Just until he could make them see-

"How could you?"

Virgil flinched again at the heartbroken expression. The anger melted away though it remained just barely on their face. Instead, tears filled their eyes as they flinched away from him, trying to hide their face.

"Please," Virgil pleaded. "Please understand. I can't be alone again. Not after everything I've been through. I can't lose you too."

His Galaxy continued to sob, and Virgil stayed with them through the entire time, unable to touch them yet unable to leave them alone at the same time. Not like this.

Little did he know the dark thoughts beginning to form in his beloved starlight's mind as the anger began to return with the realization that they may never leave. Not if Virgil could do something like this.

Finally, one thought dominated Galaxy's mind.

'I'm going to make you pay. Whatever it takes, you are going to hurt as much as you have hurt me.'

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

*weeps*

Ahhhh this hurt so much :((

#virgil evans #would you stay game #wouldyoustay?#yandere virgil #would you stay?#wysvn #virgil #would you stay visual novel #ask yoshi #WAAAAAA

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gumnut-logic · 8 months

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Doubts

I wrote something! Many thanks to @onereyofstarlight for sending an ask from the Little Whump List. Her request was 'sore feet'. And I also owe her thanks for reading it through for a sanity check :D

It didn't stay little, though, and there are warnings for submersion in turbulent water and poor Johnny having a bad day, but hey, fic! 2000 words worth :D Yeah, I got that from 'sore feet'. I'm a basket case, obviously :D

So a little whump!John fic (yes, I wrote John, its a shocker). I hope you enjoy it anyway.

-o-o-o-

John had doubts.

Doubts about himself.

Doubts that if he mentioned them to his brothers they would be shouted down with buckets of reassurance.

But they were doubts nonetheless.

He was good at his job. In space, if he was honest, he could probably rate as one of the most experienced astronauts on the planet. He knew he was smart. He knew he had what it took to do what he did far above the sky of his planet.

But his doubts didn’t lie there.

They were solid and terra firma doubts that woke him in the night.

He watched his brothers save lives every day. Heroes, every one of them. John’s part was crucial and he had his own challenges that he had confidence to meet.

But every now and again, and possibly more often if his brothers could wrangle it, he had to return to Earth.

And he would join his brothers in those hands-on rescues.

He was good. He was fully trained and had the experience. He was as much a member of International Rescue as any of his brothers.

But down in the thick of things, he sometimes had doubts he could live up to their example. Be as good as Scott, Virgil and Gordon who tackled this stuff every day while John floated far above and kept his hands clean.

He was physically adept, despite the jokes about gravity and clumsiness. Once acclimated to Earth, he was well muscled and had a brain that could run circles around the majority of the planet.

Yet, still, in the depths of his soul, those doubts sat and nibbled at his confidence.

It was stupid and it annoyed him, but they were there. Perhaps remnants of a time in his past where the school bullies had said so many things until an older brother or two shut them up permanently.

Whatever. He hated the doubt, but had to acknowledge its existence.

So when his foot got caught in the disintegrating floorboards of a collapsing house, all those doubts came out and celebrated being right.

The shock on Virgil’s face as his brother spun as John was swallowed by under-mined timber and dragged into a flooded river, was enough to imprint on John’s mind before grey and dark muck swallowed him whole.

Japan. Typhoon aftermath. A dull day full of roaring river and undermined banks. Evacuating a whole town perched on the edge of oblivion. John had been helping Virgil and an elderly couple who had become trapped by floodwaters. They got them out. But John was too slow, stepped wrong and now he was in the river.

Dark and bruising, his world was a tumultuous mess and for a moment all his breath was stolen from him, panic rearing its ugly head.

This was it. This was proof he really didn’t have what was needed on the ground. Now he needed rescuing, further complicating the job.

But he had training. Tumultuous was nothing new. It usually didn’t involve water, but the mechanics were the same.

Calm.

Assess.

Act.

It became clear that his foot was still caught in whatever had snagged it in the first place and there was pain. He shunted it aside as less important and focussed more on steadying his motion.

He couldn’t see a thing. Though he could feel the flotsam all around, hitting him, herding him…but his helmet and uniform were designed to take it. He was still dry.

Still breathing.

“Thunderbird Five, report!” Scott’s voice had every ounce of command his brother possessed, and it wasn’t until then that John realised his brothers had been calling him through the roar of angry floodwaters.

“Uh-“

Something hit him in the stomach and knocked all the air out of his lungs.

“John, I’m coming to get you. Hang on.”

John unclenched his eyes and finally sucked in a breath at Gordon’s voice. He was in the water, of course it would be Gordon.

Time spun away for a moment, along with his trajectory, bouncing off so many hard things. He forced himself to focus.

Calm.

Calm brought clarity to the chaos.

Assess.

He noted the direction he was travelling - in the majority - this had to be the current. He curled himself up and tried to put himself feet first, floorboards and all, into the current to protect his head and body as much as possible.

Surface. He had to locate up and down.

Space did not have up and down, but it did have direction. In this case gravity was hard to identify between the current and the churning, but there were moments enough, heart in his mouth, teeth clenched to keep it safe, to give him a hint of the right direction.

But he was still snagged, tied to the remains of a wooden floor of the house travelling with him.

The horror on Virgil’s face flashed across his mind again.

Doubt and panic loomed.

But something snagged his baldric and he was being dragged against the current. His foot screamed and he yelled.

“Sorry, sorry! Virgil, get down here! We need your heavy lifting!”

“FAB.”

He barely heard his brothers above the roar. But for a split second, the murk cleared and grey sky lit up his helmet. A glimpse of Thunderbird One, a cable and Gordon in all his glorious blue and yellow perched on wooden remains as if surfing.

That was more a Scott trademark move, wasn’t it?

But then the murk swallowed him up again and Gordon was swearing through his comms.

Ironically, his brother’s voice, no matter how strained, was enough for John to focus on and keep his sanity.

“Thunderbird One, just nudge it slowly. Over there out of the main current.” He could hear his brother’s breathing. Whatever Gordon had snagged him with, it was still tugging at his baldric. But something else was also at work, because the current calmed, the world righted until he was able to float easier and the chaos started to calm.

“Thunderbird Two, get this house off him. I’ll get in there and detach the major stress points so you can lift it off.”

Virgil’s baritone confirmation was lost in the roar of Thunderbird and water.

It took forever, but the entire time, Gordon was speaking to him, his tone light, almost cheery.

“Johnny, you have officially joined the BUB Club. ‘Brother Under Building’ Club. Thought you would escape that one. Scott has had at least three buildings land on him-“

“Keep it sharp, Thunderbird Four.”

“Sure, Thunderbird One. Sharp and to the point, sir.” And he kept talking, totally ignoring the command. “Virgil is the Big BUB, though, with no less than six heart attack inducing buildings landing on our heavy lifting bro. Pissed Scott right off, every time.”

“Gordon!” That was definitely an annoyed baritone.

“Hey, it comes with the job. You lift and sometimes get buried. We pull you out every time. Frequent burial points should be a thing.” There was silence for a moment and then…”Okay, Thunderbird Two, lift it off our brother.”

And there was suddenly light and the blurry outlines of green and silver, quickly followed by blue and yellow.

“Heya, Johnny. You’re a bit stuck.” Their helmets touched. “Hang in there, big bro, just a little longer and we’ll have you out.”

Gordon disappeared behind him and John twisted to follow.

“Hey, don’t move. I’ve got this. You’ll be smotherhenned in no time.”

The distraction worked. Oh god, his foot was probably going to have him off his feet and on the ground for who knows how long with two big brothers hovering…and Grandma. His eyes widened. Oh, hell.

But he was suddenly floating free. Gordon appeared beside him and wrapped an arm around his waist, pushing the both of them towards the surface. “I gotcha, Johnny.” I was said softly and with heart.

Then followed the expected hauling up into Two and that frown on Virgil’s face that was always there when a brother was hurt.

The diagnosis was lots of bruising and a hairline fracture in his right foot.

He wouldn’t be going anywhere near space anytime soon.

He didn’t have enough expletives in any language to fully express his reaction to that news.

“I should have stayed in space.” He was sitting up in bed in the infirmary, watching Virgil fasten a splint on his aching foot.

A dark eyebrow arched in his direction. “And let all those people die in that river?”

“You had that all well under control whether I was there or not.”

Virgil straightened and stared at him. “John?”

It was as if his brother had a radar that picked up on what family wanted to hide.

“What?” Okay, it was a touch petulant. Maybe Eos was rubbing off on him.

“You did a good job today.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Uh, no. We saved an entire town and I know you know that. You were there.”

“I fell in the river!”

“And we pulled you out. It happens.” Virgil turned back to securing the splint. “You did good. We did good. Shit happens. We deal with it.”

“You sound like Gordon.”

Virgil snorted. “Funny about that. Could be because we’re related.”

“Ooh, did I just here an acknowledgement of siblinghood? Didn’t know you had it in you, Virg.” Gordon waltzed into the room and tapped Virgil on the back, not enough to disturb what he was doing but enough to drive his comment home.

Virgil grunted and turned away as if to deny any relationship to the fish in the room.

“Hey, Johnny.” Gordon continued his waltz around the bed and dumped himself lightly beside John. “How goes the bruises? Virg driven you insane yet?”

“Don’t call me Johnny.”

“Oooh, wow, that’s a definite sign of improvement. The snark is back. Eos will be happy to hear.”

John blinked. He hadn’t heard from Eos since before the…accident. “Eos?”

“Ohh, she’s speaking with Scott. We had to kill her access to your comms when you went down.” Gordon wasn’t looking at him.

John straightened where he sat, only to shift his foot enough for it to protest. “Why?”

“Uh, she was worried. But don’t you worry, Scott talked her down. In fact, they are still chatting.”

Gordon’s nonchalance only tightened the sudden knot in John’s belly.

“I want to speak with her.”

“She’s fine. She and Scotty finally hit it off. You might regret that in the long run, but its good. Things are good.”

“Gordon-“

But it was Virgil who interceded. “Eos is okay, John. She has agreed to wait to speak to you until I say so. And I won’t say so until I’m finished here. I won’t be long.”

John stared at him a moment but couldn’t find any words that might work. Gordon yes, Virgil…might as well try to persuade a brick wall.

Fine.

“You did good today.”

Now Gordon was sounding like Virgil. Those two spent far too much time together.

John grunted.

“No, I mean it. You did good in the water. We tracked you, you know. I could see your reaction and I can say from experience that you did good. That was no small accident. Water can kill as much as space, if not more. You reacted in the best way possible.”

John looked up at his little brother. Really?

“Don’t look at me like that. I know it’s not often you get to play in my bathtub, but I was proud of you today.”

Again with the softly and all the heart.

Virgil had stopped working and was staring at him, his expression agreeing with Gordon’s words.

John cleared his throat. “Really?”

Gordon snorted and grinned. “Really. And now we have one extra person on the housework roster.”

“Hey, I’m injured.” It was weak, but he wasn’t at his snarky best apparently.

“You can still do dishes on one leg.” Gordon’s grin widened.

“Gordon, get out of here.” Virgil, ever the sanctuary of sanity.

“No, I’m hanging with Johnny who is down from orbit for some brotherly housework time.”

Virgil rolled his eyes as Gordon snuggled into John’s side like the cephalopod he was.

John found himself smiling.

And as Virgil smirked and winked in his direction, he realised that was the entire aim of everything.

No doubt at all.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #john tracy #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #nuttyfic #yay I wrote something #nothing amazing #but fic!

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idontknowreallywhy · 7 months

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WIP almost-Wednesday because I’m excited about this one but also a bit stuck so it might not see the light of day for a while 😂

Will be part of chapter 3 of Play it Out.

Which he did.

So.

All would be well.

Not that there was much to tell.

Except that he was a fool who needed to get a grip and be grateful.

With stealth borne out of years of practice he crept past the rooms of his younger brothers on silent feet and paused at his own, glancing over at Scott’s. A prickle of… something ran through him and he was seized by the sudden insane urge to burst in and demand a big bro hug. It had been a few days, in fact, since his last, but Scott slept little enough as it was. Tomorrow, then.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #wednesday wip #wip wednesday #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #virgil tracy #scott tracy

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