#grumpy Virgil

[loganslowdown4]

Virgil: A pessimist sees a dark tunnel

Patton: An optimist sees a light at the end of that tunnel

Logan: Well a realist sees a freight train in the tunnel

Janus: And the train driver sees three idiots standing on the tracks-

[casart]

Hello, hello! Could you please do 3B for Virgil from Sander sides? I know you drew him recently, but I just can't get enough of him in your style. I adore your art so very much and if I could, I would just eat it all up <3 Thank you!!

I am always willing to draw Virgil💜

[virgils-sinister-ships]

New selfship dynamic just dropped

[dotemakesthings]

Family bonding time is mandatory. Yes, Janus, even for you.

Based on this discord conversation with @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors :

[idontknowreallywhy]

💚🌸💚

I love that for maximum effect Gordon winds him up the most he possibly can without actually causing his own death… and then sets him loose to get his tree-hugging therapy.

I love that the big bros know him so well. (How do they l now about this particular Thing? Has he admitted it? Or just the mysteries of bro-sense?)

I love the fact there is a particular type of almond that will indeed drive Johnny to fratricide. I’d wager Gordon is a big fan of those. A big fan.

Do I take it spring is beginning to spring round Nut-land?

Blossom

Have some weird fic. Vaguely FishTank, mostly brothers. I hope you enjoy.

-o-o-o-

Virgil Tracy loved living on a tropical island. It was warm and the air was clean. The ocean was their constant companion with its moods and fickle ways, its colours ever so vibrant.

The blues went on forever.

But there was one thing he missed on the plains of Kansas.

Ironically it wasn’t even the correct time to miss what he missed. The blossoms of Kansas bloomed in March and April. Here in the southern hemisphere it was the complete opposite end of the year.

Perhaps he was connected to his ecosystem more than he realised? Because every August he got tetchy.

Today was a perfect example. He really shouldn’t have bitten Gordon’s head off like that. The Fish meant well…most of the time. Virgil was just short tempered.

Of course, Gordon hadn’t helped his case by declaring ‘the bear has just awoken from hibernation, Island beware!’

It took all of Virgil’s restraint to prevent himself from clapping his brother up the head.

Which only proved the point.

Because somewhere further south of the Island, the seasons were rolling slowly into spring, and yes, it was that time of year when in Kansas, after being mostly confined during winter, he itched to get out.

The fact he lived in the tropics and there were no seasons was obviously ridiculously irrelevant.

So, today, rather than biting heads off brothers, he hiked up to the top of Tracy Peak and stood in the ocean breeze staring south.

He couldn’t get more ‘out’ than that.

Even in the tropics, up this high, the wind was brisk, cold, and biting through his flannel shirt.

It was invigorating.

The little Gordon at the back of his brain shook his head and facepalmed.

He owed his little brother an apology.

Cloud was skittering along the distant horizon to the south. Down that way lay the island chain of the Kermadecs eventually culminating in Aotearoa.

Now there was a temperate zone that knew how to throw a blossoming spring. He would admit to having visited Hawkes Bay just last year for that exact reason.

Fields of blossom in spring and fruit in the summer.

He must have lost himself in the moment, because he was suddenly startled by a roar.

Spinning on the spot, he looked down to see his ‘bird lift off her runway and take to the air. If his heart hadn’t emergency responded in reflex, it would have been a magic moment. It was rare to see her launch without him.

He grabbed his collar. “Thunderbird Five, what’s the situation?”

“Hold your horses, grumpy bear, no situation. I’m coming to you.” Gordon’s voice was light and cheerful and not Thunderbird Five.

“Gordon!”

But as he watched, his ‘bird arced out over the ocean in a perfect turn and headed back towards Tracy Peak…where Virgil was standing.

“Gordon, what are you doing?”

Before his brother could answer, Two came to a hover above him, her VTOL washing away the cold wind and replacing it with roaring warmth.

Her belly opened and the rescue rig lowered down towards Virgil. “Hop aboard, bear boy.”

Virgil’s eyebrows collided and crumpled up. But he stepped onto the rig without saying another word. He triggered the return signal and watched as Tracy Peak drifted away below.

The hatch swallowed him up and before the rig settled, he was off and moving, running towards the cockpit.

He was greeted with a Gordon holding his hands up like Virgil was holding a gun. “It’s cool, bear bro, I’m just taking you for a little ride.” Virgil managed to frown even more. Gordon rolled his eyes. “In style, I must say. Sit back and we’ll be there momentarily.” He sat back down in the pilot’s seat and place his hand on the yoke.

“Where? And why are you flying my ‘bird.”

“Orders from on high, Thunderbird Two. Courtesy of ‘too busy’ Scott and ‘rolling his eyes’ Johnny. You did it this time and the leadership team declared you on downtime.” Virgil opened his mouth, but was cut off by Gordon holding up a finger. “Under orders, growly bear. I’m taking you south so you can go find a fruit tree and hug it.”

Virgil flopped onto the co-pilot’s seat. “Gordon-“

“Yes, that be my name, don’t bear it out.”

Two accelerated and Virgil was forced to sit back and strap in. Both Scott and John were going to get feedback on the matter.

“We really don’t have time for this.”

Gordon snorted. “Hence the Thunderbird, grumble-butt. Be there in no time, respond just as fast if we need to.”

Virgil found his arm crossed tight across his chest.

He forced them to uncross and his shoulders to relax.

Aotearoa crept over the horizon and within moments they were circling in above what appeared to be a farm.

“Where are we?”

“Aotearoa, der.”

“Whose farm, Fish-brain?”

“Friend of Johnny’s, source of those honeyed almonds he threatens fratricide over.”

“Ben and Jules?”

“That would be them. He said there was a cafe and everything.” Gordon smirked at Virgil. “And they have a field of almond trees in full blossom. I’ve been directed to lock you in the orchard until you regain sanity.”

Virgil glared at him as the Fish expertly landed Virgil’s Thunderbird in the mostly empty parking lot. Even though Virgil felt like complaining, he couldn’t find anything to complain about. His little brother’s flying was perfect.

Drat it.

Yes, apparently Virgil did need to go hug a tree or something.

Scott and John were so dead.

“Off you go, butter-bear. Johnny called ahead. Ben is going to meet us out front. He’s been warned about the bear.”

“For goodness sake!”

“Eh, you shouldn’t have pissed off Johnny, yesterday, I’m just sayin’. Stew in your own pot”

Virgil watched his brother expertly go through post-flight. Again, flawlessly.

“Off you go, bear-brows, before you strain one of those eyebrow muscles of yours. Then where would we be?”

“Gordon.” But it was said without steam this time, and with a sigh, he gave in, climbing out of the co-pilot’s seat - the view from there just wasn’t right - and walking over to the hatch.

The moment he was settled, the hatch began to lower. “May the bear be with you! Or perhaps, let it go, let it go!” Gordon devolved into the Frozen soundtrack and Virgil found himself fleeing without a second thought.

His boots hit the grass and he was assailed by the scent of greenery, the buzzing of bees, and a warmth to the air that just could not be replicated in the tropics.

The farm had a central building, but off to his left was a wide gate leading into a field of blossoming almond trees.

He was drawn to it like a magnet.

Somewhere off to his right, an older man was grinning and waving him on. Virgil smiled, just a little, in his direction, and he was waved on even more eagerly.

Yes, Scott and John were very dead. Bear or no bear.

But the old man was laughing, and as Virgil made it to the gate, he vaguely registered Gordon leaping from Two’s hatchway and joining the man laughing.

Scott and John…so dead.

But the field beckoned.

The wooden gate opened with a creak, disturbing bees and butterflies. The wind that had been ruffling Virgil’s hair on Tracy Peak, was now little more than a breeze rustling flower petals. Every now and again, a single petal would break loose and flutter to the vivid green grass below.

Birds darted about in bare branches, shaking more petals loose.

It gave the field the surrealism of another world.

The bees hummed and buzzed in their bazillions.

Virgil took a deep breath, as if he could breathe it all in.

Yes, maybe he would hug a tree, and then fall asleep under it in the sun.

He could kill his brothers later.

-o-o-o-

[queenofexhaustion]

Roman: Croissants: dropped

Virgil: Road: works ahead

Remus: BBQ sauce: on my titties

Patton: Shavacado: fre

Janus: Miss Keisha: fuckin dead

Logan:

Logan grumpy: I didn't understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you

[angelltheninth]

Random Fandoms

SFW - The Greek Gods Try to Win Your Heart

NSFW - Realizing Fiyero Is Probably Really Into Being Pussydrunk

SFW and NSFW - Oh Sangwoo as Your Toxic Boyfriend

SFW - Berserk Trio Kissing Headcanons

SFW - Nicknames Percy de Rolo Would Have For You

SFW - Husband!Gun Park Reassures You when You Get Post-Pregnancy Stretch Marks

NSFW - Guts Goes From a Gentle Lover to A Rough One

SFW - Teammates to Lovers with Sung Jinwoo

SFW - Choi Su-Bong Is Your Possessive Boyfriend

NSFW - Levi Ackerman Cleans You Up After Sex

NSFW - Having Sex with Maui

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SFW - Guts Falls in Love with You

SFW - Jin "Jiji" Enjoji Walks You to Class

NSFW - Antinous x Fem!Reader - The Fire in Your Souls

SFW - Giving Sung Jinwoo a Massage

SFW - Morning After with the Greek Gods

SFW - Possessive Yandere CEO Hires You to Be His Secretary

NSFW - Emperor Geta Fucks You During a Feast

NSFW - Oh Sangwoo Marks You Up

NSFW - Hate Sex and Banter with Griffith

NSFW - Male!Kidnappers x Fem!Reader - A Good Girl's Corruption

NSFW - Karlach Eating You Out + Temperature Play

SFW - Sparing and Flirting with Guts

SFW - Kisses for Cover with Dogyeong and Isu Baek

NSFW - Prone Bone with Jinshi

NSFW - Luchino Diruse Loses Control While You're Giving Him a Blowjob

SFW - Coriolanus Snow + Arranged Marriage

SFW - Sung Jinwoo Becomes a Yandere After Getting Stronger

NSFW - Marcus Acacius Wants to Start a Family with You

SFW - Public Affection with Homelander

NSFW - Lucius Verus Breeds You in a Gladiator Cell

SFW - Dating Chat Noir

SFW - Telling Sung Jinwoo That He Means the World to You

NSFW - Solder Boy Bends and Fucks You Over the Table

SFW - Raging when Percy de Rolo and Vax'ildan Get Hurt

NSFW - Making Mickey Barnes a Whimpering Mess

NSFW - Somnophilia with Sung Jinwoo

NSFW - Ao Bing De Fucks You in the Back of the Car

SFW - Public Love Confession from Fiyero Tigelaar

NSFW - Apollo and Hermers + Fingering

SFW - The Love Languages of the Berserk Trio

SFW - First Relationship with Dante, Mary "Lady" Arkham and Virgil

NSFW - Sung Jinwoo Using His Powers to Dominate You During Sex

SFW - Dating a Yandere White Rabbit

NSFW - Size Kink with One Piece Men

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NSFW - Dante Teasing You While You Ride His Cock

NSFW - Jack Abbot Fucks You in a Medical Closet

NSFW - Reunion Sex with Vash the Stampede

SFW - Flirty Dante and Virgil

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SFW - Dante Sparda Has a Crush on You

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SFW - Grumpy x Sunshine Roommates with Kenji "Ken" Sato

[sandersontheside]

a little snippet from the prinxiety and logicality coffee shop AU I’m working on. Poor Logan. imagine expecting peppy adorable Patton and getting grumpy, impatient Virgil.

[sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes]

AU where instead of a bad guy who wants to be good, Virgil is kind of the opposite. As in like the main 3 accept and like him from the first episode he's in but he's also really grumpy and tries (keyword tries) to be mean

[lefaystrent]

The Morning Routine

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: LAMP

Summary: Logan needs to be out the door this morning at stupid o'clock. Everyone else begs to differ.

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

Logan leans with his back against the counter, one hand propped against the surface behind him, the other holding a steaming hot mug of coffee. It's dark outside the window over the sink. No traffic lights zoom by, early as it is.

So early in fact, it's a small act of divine intervention when Patton shuffles in sleepily.

"Are you ill?" Logan asks bluntly. There is no other reason he can fathom for the other to be up so ungodly early.

Without his glasses, Patton squints to the point his nose scrunches up. There is an objectively cute scowl on his face, like he wants to challenge the next thing he blurrily sees to a fight.

Patton shakes his head and slides his socked feet across the kitchen tiles, literally dragging his feet just to get to Logan. He wraps heavy arms around Logan's torso and collapses against his chest, burying his face into his collar.

"Unsolicited affections at five in the morning? You have outdone yourself, Patton," Logan says. He doesn't know whether his tone is admonishing or praising. The fond edge to it gives him away, he thinks. He checks Patton's forehead just to make sure and, once satisfied that the other is not sick and is simply needy, he aquiseces and rubs his back in sweeping circles.

Patton is quiet as he usually is in the mornings. He is not a naturally inclined morning person, obviously, and usually has to gear himself up with a shower and two cups of coffee laced with deplorable amounts of sugar. It's highly amusing because he's uncharacteristically grumpy and the others have teased him relentlessly for it in the past. Currently, Patton makes no fuss and simply wishes to be held. Logan is more than happy to oblige.

They are discovered in this position several minutes later by a slightly more awake Roman. He enters the kitchen with an impressive display of bedhead, one hand scratching at his stomach under his shirt. He stops short at the cute scene before him. Then he smiles, delight creeping in.

"I was going to come wish you good luck for the day, but it looks like someone already beat me to it."

"Is that what this is?" Logan asks. He sits his mug down and pets at Patton's hair. "Luck is not required, nor proven to be an actual thing that exists. I appreciate the sentiment all the same, though you don't have to go to the trouble."

Patton gives a short vocal response akin to, "Unn." He does not move his face away from where it's smooshed.

Roman tuts, "Just let us love you, nerd."

And then Roman joins the cuddling. He throws his arms around them both and buries his nose into Logan's shoulder.

"This is highly unnecessary," Logan complains but does not let them go. They are warm and soft in his embrace, and they are his. He would give them anything they ask for. Still, he tries to make them see reason. "I will have to leave soon."

"Being five minutes late for once won't kill you, Mr. Perfect Attendance Record."

"Unn," Patton agrees.

"Incorrigible, the both of you."

Another handful of precious minutes go by. Patton has taken to nuzzling and Roman sighs as Logan scratches at his scalp.

"What, did my invitation get lost in the mail?"

And there is Virgil, because no one can apparently sleep today if Logan is not there to ensure it. Virgil leans his shoulder against the entryway, arms crossed and eyebrow raised in that way that shows he's more amused than offended.

Logan gives an exasperated chuckle. "No invitations were sent, and yet here you all are. What am I to do with you?"

"Love us," Patton mumbles petulantly.

"Here, here," Roman agrees.

Virgil snorts and attempts to skirt by them on the way to the coffee pot. He doesn't get that far when Roman snatches at his hoodie to reel him in.

"Hey!" Virgil complains, but he lets himself be tucked under Roman's arm, so he's not truly angry. Patton squirms to the side enough so that Virgil is pressed in the middle of them all. "I am being held hostage."

"You and I both," Logan says, hiding a smirk in Roman's hair.

"They'll never take you alive," Patton grumbles, nonsensical, to which the rest of them laugh.

Logan is late leaving out the door that morning by a whole fourteen minutes.

[sleepyvirgilprompts]

Virgil stirred slightly, said a sentence that contained no intelligible words but sounded grumpy, and curled closer to Janus. Janus frowned. "Sleep," he ordered-- unnecessarily; Virgil had already gone back to sleep.

[squidsinashirt]

The music in your headphones blocks out most of the world while you focus on maintenance.

But there are some things that take a LOT of blocking and even if you ignore the dull roar, the vibrations causes by One’s retros as she descends back into her spot beneath the pool shiver across the concrete floor and buzz the soles of your feet through your shoes.

He’s back then.

You know you’ve got at least half an hour’s grace, as from what you overheard of the comms chatter, Virgil will probably be all over big brother with a medi-scanner as soon as he hits the lounge. You’d heard the grunt of pain as he’d taken the brunt of one of the rescuees doing something stupid. But he was ‘fine’ as he always was so what could anyone do with the idiot. Good luck to Virgil.

Should be just enough time to finish up here and make yourself scarce before Mr Grumpy turns up.

You check the status readouts again and frown. Four is grumpy too. Must be something in the air.

You turn to grab your water bottle from the table and startle as your hand closes instead around a mango and dragonfruit frappe, the distinctive branding of your favourite Cairns smoothie bar in adorning the 100% biodegradable cup.

You don’t need to raise your eyes to know who is standing behind you, uniform still snow-damp and smelling of hard work…

Huh. Well, that was unexpected to say the least.

Gordon regarded the frappe for a long moment, fingers growing cold around it as his brain caught up, before glancing over his shoulder and-

“Jesus, Scott.”

He knew he was there, it could only be one person, and still - surprise. Amber eyes met blue, and Gordon reached up to remove his headphones.

He regarded his brother for a long moment, the silence stretching between them as his eyes caught the scuff at the elder’s forehead, the bruise forming beneath it, the somehow awkward way he held himself. One blonde eyebrow lifting to voice his first thoughts - he wasn’t about to actually say it, given the current situation, but Scott did not look particularly great.

“Virgil’s gonna to want you in medbay, y’know… are you soaking wet? Did you fly home soaking wet?”

Good luck Virgil indeed.

[askthelightsides]

Logan! How do you feel about the color orange??

Logan: The color orange? I don’t know, about as little as I feel about any other color

Patton: That’s funny, when I tried looking us all up on here I kept seeing pictures of you all orange!

Logan: You did? I mean, I don’t-

Roman: Hey yeah! Me too! I thought you were the blue guy!

Logan: …really? That’s what I am? Just the blue guy?

Roman: the dark blue guy?

Patton: And you always look kinda grumpy in the pictures.

Logan: Well, maybe it’s because people kept bothering me with asinine questions about colors!

Patton: Logan! We should be nice to the people who take the time to ask us things!

Logan: right. Sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t answer anything for a bit.

Virgil: You good, L?

Logan: fine. I’m fine.

Remus: Oooooo he’s gettin mad again!!!

Janus: leave it be, for now

[emtb319]

“The Games We Play”

“Do I want to know?”  Alan asked, looking up from his long overdue classwork.

“Nope.”  Gordon answered, with a little too much emphasis on the ‘p’.

Virgil had been feeling down the last few days.  He’d been on a rough rescue.  His bird was still grounded for repairs, and he was nursing an injury.  Everyone just gave him some space, but Gordon was determined to make him smile.  Even the tiniest crack would do.  Anything was better than the scowl and pout he wore now.  Gordon grinned as he submitted the order.  It would be glorious!

“I wonder how long it’ll take him to notice?”  He asked himself.  Let the games begin.  His mystery box was delivered a few days later.  He cackled, as he opened it, and Alan just shook his head.  Alan knew better than to poke Virgil while he was like this, but Gordon apparently didn’t get the Don’t Poke The Bear memo.  Virgil was still pretty upset and grumpy about the events the week prior.  No one had been able to make him smile at all.

“Hey big brother.”  Virgil groaned, as his socket slipped out of his hand and rolled away.  He threw his hands up in frustration at the distraction to his work.    

“Not now Gordon.”  Grumpy bear was out in full force.

“I promise.  I come bearing gifts.  You  look like you need a coffee refill.  Got one ready for you.”  Gordon held out the oversized mug of his favorite magic bean water.  Virgil accepted it with both hands.  He was tired and could use a fresh cup of coffee anyway.  And, Gordon knew better than to mess with his favorite drink.

“Thanks.  I’ll have 2 airborne in a few hours, finally.”  Gordon nodded and retrieved the errant socket for him, then left Virgil to his work and coffee.  He sat up in the rafters and waited for Virgil to realize.

“What the..”  For the first time in a week, Virgil smiled and laughed.  “Really Gordon?  Googly eyes?  In my coffee cup?”  He figured that Gordon was still around to see his reaction.  “While you’re up there, can you bring me another refill please?”

[gumnut-logic]

How Gordon got there first was no mystery. Virgil was just too damned tired after three rescues in a row and Scott had been tied up with Tracy Industries for most of the day. Grandma could possibly have been on it if she hadn’t been filling in for John who had broken out his exo-suit to yank a couple of free floaters out of the sky.

He was still muttering about idiots and safety. His mood was not improved by the fact Grandma insisted he come down for the night so he could be counted.

Consequently, his muttering also included cursing bureaucracy even though Virgil knew census night was a favourite of the astronaut.

Perhaps Gordon got to the form first because he knew everyone else was tired and grumpy and needed a kick in the pants. Virgil had to admit with a fond thought that his little brother was prone to throwing joke bombs amongst them when the mood was through the floor.

Virgil had no issues wondering why Alan wasn’t the one poking at the form. Their resident teenager wasn’t interested at all.

“Okay, guys. What is our address? What did we put last time?”

Alan didn’t even look up from his game. “Tracy Island.”

Gordon, who was sitting at Dad’s desk, staring at the holographic form, hesitated. “Did Dad register that with the powers that be?”

“What?” Alan really wasn’t paying any attention at all.

Virgil sighed. He was sitting on the couch with one of his uniform boots on his lap attempting to pick out several penetrating objects out of the sole. His last rescue had been a collapsed factory and he was still trying to work out what exactly it was that they made that could penetrate his specialist footwear.

Fortunately, despite multiple incursions, he only had a scratch on his left foot, more an annoyance than anything, but these objects were frustrating and suspicious.

“Dad did all the right things. Tracy Island is the official name now.” The pliers weren’t quite gripping the piece of metal properly. The grip slipped and Virgil swore.

“Now? What was it called before?”

“Deserter’s Rock.” Scott strode in from the kitchen, a coffee in hand, and grimace on his face. His usually perfect hair was scruffy, as if he had been running his hands through it.

Virgil frowned up at him. “You okay?”

His brother took the steps down into the lounge and sighed. “Nothing a holiday won’t fix.” It was Scott’s turn to frown. “What’s with the boot?”

“Deserter’s Rock? Really?”

It was John who answered, very much like Alan, staring into his tablet and barely paying attention. “Really. Three sailors were stuck here for months. Only one survived. That’s why there is a cairn on Tracy Peak.”

“I thought that was a pile of rocks put there by Dad.” Gordon seemed genuinely surprised. “You mean there are two dead guys on the Island?”

“Along with their ghosts, yeah.” John still didn’t look up.

“Ghosts?” Alan did look up at that, eyes wide. “What ghosts?”

“The one’s who keep stealing my Bailey’s ice cream.”

“Oh.” Alan went back to playing his game, his eyes definitely not darting between John and Gordon at all.

“Okay, moving on…so where do I put ‘Tracy Island’ in this thing? It’s not a suburb, state or territory…do we have a postcode?”

“It’s a locality. Shove it in there.” Virgil grit his teeth and yanked hard at the piece of metal embedded in his boot. A grunt and a flex of heavy lifting muscles and…it didn’t move at all. What the hell?

“Okay, whatever.” Gordon half sung ‘Tracy Island, Kermadec Ridge, South Pacific Ocean’ to himself as he entered it into the form. At least he was being specific. Virgil glared at his boot.

“Next. Who gets to be head of household? Oh, the Householder?” A pause in which Virgil poked at his boot, Scott sipped his coffee with closed eyes, Alan killed three zombies with a grin and John sat motionless still staring at his tablet.

“Okay, then. It’s me.” Gordon grinned to himself.

Nobody looked up, but all four other brothers said simultaneously and in chorus. “It’s Grandma.”

Virgil flexed his hand and picked up his pliers again. Peripherally, he watched Gordon’s shoulders drop. Even the Fish couldn’t argue with that.

“Fine. It’s Grandma.” He reached up and touched the box to open that section of the form. “Where is she anyway?”

Virgil tried to get a better grip on another chunk of metal in his boot. “Yoga. Don’t disturb her.” Yoga was Grandma’s mindfulness time and after today, it was well overdue. “Leave her be.”

“I wasn’t going to. Sheesh. So, name. Sally Tracy.” He typed in her name. “Person two?”

“Scott Tracy.” Okay, so Virgil had a bit of a thing about this. His brother deserved acknowledgement for everything he had done.

Gordon glared at him. “And so I guess the rest of us are in age order?”

Virgil flipped his boot over. “Whatever floats your boat, fishboy.” A glance in Scott’s direction and he had to wonder if his brother had fallen asleep, he was that still. The coffee mug in his hand was the only proof of consciousness.

Virgil fought the urge to save it. “Scott, you wanna go to bed?”

“Wha-?” His brother sat up. “I’m fine.” Fortunately, he put the coffee mug down. The chances of Virgil having to treat burns tonight dropped significantly.

“How do you spell ‘Hackenbacker’?”

Virgil did not grace that with an answer as it was obviously a stupid question.

John was apparently on auto as he spouted off the required letters anyway while still staring at his tablet.

Gordon poked at the form in silence for a little while and Virgil wondered what on Earth he was entering. He trusted his brother. This was an official document, after all, but he was still Gordon.

“Okay, guys, I need your information.”

Beside Virgil, Scott ‘woke up’. “What, no questions about Grandma?”

Gordon frowned at his eldest brother. “I’ll have you know that I know our grandmother very well. We have a special kind of relationship.”

Alan snorted.

“What? You got something to say, sprout?” The fish glared at Alan enough to torch him on the spot.

“I’m just saying that after that time with Grandma’s diver’s license, you should know Grandma’s details very well. Her birthdate, her ancestry, her suit measurements…”

A starfish plushie suddenly had a very short career as a ninja star and bounced off Alan’s head. “Shut up, Alan.”

Their little brother only giggled more.

John, still staring at his tablet, raised an eyebrow. “Allie, Grandma baked some cookies yesterday. I think there are still some in the cupboard. Would you like some?”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Alan threw the plushie at his fish brother, missing completely, and went back to playing his game. There was muttering about Gordon making jokes but Alan not being allowed to.

Virgil sighed to himself.

“Scotty, what’s your age? It’s 2060 for reference. Oh, and your gender.”

All signs of sleep fell away and Scott sat up. “Gordon…” It was all warning.

“Hey, I’m just giving you the opportunity to offer an alternative. After all, tonight you look at least fifty-six.”

“I’m thirty-one and you know it.”

Gordon poked at the form. “Thirty-one years young. Got it.”

Scott grunted at him.

“Virg, are we telling the truth this time?”

“Depends on whether you want me to leave you in the ocean next time.” Why the hell couldn’t he get this out of his boot?

“To threat level already, you are grumpy tonight.”

“Gordon…” Virgil echoed Scott from earlier to the note.

“Johnny?”

“No one named ‘Johnny’ lives here.”

Gordon signed. “John Glenn Tracy, how would you like me to record your age?”

“Accurately.”

“Fine.”

“If I say I’m thirty-two, do I get to go higher up on the form?” Alan looked hopeful.

“If you like.” Gordon moved things around on the display.

Virgil gave up. The locality of Tracy Island was destined to be a statistical anomaly anyway. At least it would be an interesting one.

Besides, John would probably hack it later and fix it. The fact he had hardly protested so far was eminent proof of that security factor.

“Scotty, are you the husband or wife of Grandma?”

Scott rubbed his face and didn’t bother to answer, picking up his coffee again and burying his face in it.

Virgil just wished he would go to bed. The man was a zombie.

Gordon took the hint and was quiet for a little while. Virgil went back to tugging on his boot. Maybe he should take this down to his workshop.

The thought of actually working more had his shoulders slumping enough to alert Scott. The concerned and questioning look shot in his direction had Virgil sitting up a little straighter to fend it off.

“John, where should we put your usual place of residence?”

“Here.”

“But you live in space.”

“So do you.”

“Pedantic much?”

“As necessary. Tracy Island is home. Thunderbird Five is merely in our astronomical backyard, not to mention secret.”

Virgil looked up at that. It was a simple statement, but it was good to hear that John still considered Tracy Island home despite his multiple protests over the years.

“Fine. Secret space station wasn’t an option anyway. I could flub it and use Global One but then that would spark all those rumours about you and that captain all over again.”

“Gordon, I can hack your bank accounts.”

“Go for it.”

“I can also hack your fish tanks.”

The aquanaut shot to his feet. “You touch my tanks and you’re dead, spacehead.”

John didn’t react other than to smile just a little.

Their space brother could be a right royal ass when he wanted to be. Virgil sighed. “John, you know the rules.”

He shrugged. “Didn’t break any.”

“You touch my tanks, I’m spicing up your atmosphere on Five. I’m not kidding. I have fart gas resources even you can’t find.” Gordon was still on his feet and actually appeared angry.

John shuddered. “TMI, Gordo. Not interested in your gas capacity, honestly.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Calm down, Gords, John’s not doing anything to your fish tanks. He knows the rules, don’t you, John.” He arched a prompting eyebrow at his brother.

“Never said I didn’t.”

Definitely an ass.

“Gordon, calm down. You can put John’s relationship to you in as ‘nemesis’ if it makes you feel better.”

“I can only put in our relationship to Grandma. I wrote favourite grandson in yours.”

It was Virgil’s turn to shrug. “I’m not going to complain. Sit down and finish the form.”

His brother didn’t answer, but he did sit down, albeit still glaring at John.

John had gone back to his tablet, doing who knew the hell what.

Definitely an ass.

Virgil turned back to Gordon. “What’s the next question, Gords?”

The glare switched to Virgil for a second before turning to the form. “Where were we born?”

“Kansas.”

“I know that. What about Grandma, Brains and Kayo?”

“Space.” Alan said it with triumph.

“What?”

“Where John lives. Isn’t that what the question was?” Alan stared between his brothers.

“Go back to sleep, Alan.”

“Grandma was born in Kansas, Brains was born in India, and Kayo was born here.” Scott proved he was still awake by suddenly providing information enough to make Virgil jump.

Gordon poked at the form, but nothing further was said on that front. Everyone knew Kayo was sensitive about her past, and while she wasn’t in the room, she would find out and partially kill anyone responsible.

“Kayo is here tonight, isn’t she?”

Virgil yanked on his boot again, slipped and managed to elbow Scott in the ribs. His brother grunted.

“Oh, shit, sorry. You okay?” He shoved the boot aside and the pliers along with it.

Scott eyed him and rubbed his side. “That answers your question, Gordon. Kayo is on a conference call with Captain Rigby.”

Virgil glared at Scott.

Gordon eyed the both of them. “Is there something you two aren’t telling the class?”

“Shut up, Gordon.” Virgil glared at Scott a moment longer, enough to have his brother’s expression fall into one of concern. Grabbing his boot again, Virgil went back to wrestling with embedded metal. Damned specialised rubber was amazing when it protected him but when its tolerances were overrun, it was a pain to fix. Maybe he should ask Max to give it a yank. “What entertaining religion are you using this time, Gords?” Any attempt to get the conversation off this topic.

Gordon stared at him a moment, obviously still trying to work out what the hell happened there.

Scott was dead later; Virgil was going to make sure of it. Tired or not, he had crossed a line.

A sideways look in his eldest brother’s direction and it was obvious Scott realised that. Okay, maybe he could let it go. It had been a long day and they were all tired.

Probably should go to bed.

He went back to fighting with his boot.

Gordon was still staring but even the fish knew when to shut up apparently, because the next words out of his mouth were entirely religious.

“I’m worshiping Neptune this year.”

Alan frowned. “I thought you said that last time.”

“Dad wouldn’t let me.”

That brought the whole room to a standstill. Last census was ten years ago. Flashback to that time brought everything that had changed into the bright glaring light. The biggest change being Dad’s absence. But even more, ten years ago they were still based in Kansas, IR was in development, but not yet a reality. Alan was only six, Gords eleven and with his body still intact…it was a completely different time. Virgil was still in college and had to fill in his own census form in Denver.

Gordon broke the looming silence with a determined smile. “This time the government gets the truth. Scott bows to the sky gods, Virg worships molemen, Johnny is a god, and Alan is Satan.

“Hey!” It was said by multiple brothers at once.

Only John remained calm. He even had a smile. “In that case, I want bagels every Sunday.”

“You get bagels every Sunday. Virg sends them up all the time.” Alan glared at his space brother – Alan did not like bagels.

John grinned wider. “I’ll take that as proof that I have at least one faithful worshipper.”

“Next time you can get your own bagels.” Virgil glared at his brother.

Gordon snorted. “Yeah, right, you old softie. John could blow up Two and you’d still send him his bagels.”

Virgil found himself glaring at Gordon again. It seemed to be a theme tonight. “Short pier, long walk, Gordon, go for it.”

He got a smirk for that. “Don’t mind if I do. A little night diving is quite spectacular around here.”

Virgil ignored him and went back to his boot…which he had made zero progress on for all the time he had been sitting here, damnit.

“Does Virgil ever ‘need someone to help with or be with him for self-care, body movement, or communication activities’?” Gordon typed into the form. “Before coffee.”

Virgil ignored him some more as Alan took the bait and snickered. “Better watch it, Gords. Won’t be long before ‘before coffee’ time kicks in. Look at him, he’s already brewing.”

The piece of metal in his boot finally shifted a little. Thank goodness.

“Long term health conditions.” Gordon slumped in his seat. “Well, isn’t this cheerful.”

“Just fill it in, Gordon.” Scott’s words were little more than a sigh.

That left a gaping silence. Gordon tapped a lot at the keyboard filling in far too much. More for himself, obviously, but then there was John and his space issues, and they all had been diagnosed with something on the list hanging above their father’s desk.

Except Alan, who could not be left out. Virgil pretended to not be able to read the word ‘zombification’ next to his little brother’s name.

“Schooling? Oh man, John, you can write all the letters after your name. I can never remember them all.”

“Not a problem.” The astronaut poked at his tablet and the hologram in front of Gordon sprouted half the alphabet.

“Really? Did you get a new one?” He stared at John. “When did you get time for that?”

John shrugged. “Made time.”

“What’s this one for?”

“Oceanography.”

“What?”

“You were in the ocean. I didn’t know enough to help. So I fixed the problem.”

Gordon just stared.

Virgil, of course, knew. He had been the one to field John’s version of panic the day he didn’t know enough to help Gordon. John was practical. He saw a problem, he fixed it. Oceanography wasn’t an obvious topic for the starman, but he was a genius and that genius could be applied where he wished it to be.

If Virgil had found himself helping John at a few points that intersected with his specialities along the way, he was just going to take a little comfort from being able to return the favour after years of borrowing his brother’s brains for other topics.

And besides, it had meant he had been able to spend a little extra time with John. Always a good thing.

Despite him being the occasional ass.

Gordon was still staring. “Is that why you bugged me to take you out in Four?”

John shrugged. “Partly. Didn’t mind spending a bit of time with you either. Good experience to familiarise myself with Four as well.”

The stare continued.

“Be careful you don’t catch any flies with your mouth open.”

The stare became a glare. “We’re talking about this. You and me.”

“Sure.”

Gordon looked like he didn’t know whether to yell at him or run over and hug his brother. Virgil was voting for the latter.

But everything was interrupted by a sudden snore and snort.

Virgil turned to Scott and found his brother startled awake, likely by his own snore.

“Wha-?”

“Scott, you need to go to bed.”

“I’m fine.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Do I need to pick you up and carry you?”

“I’m fine.” He waved Virgil away, sat up straighter and attempted to guzzle whatever was left of his probably cold coffee.

“Idiot.”

“What?”

“Go to bed.”

“No. We need to finish the census.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because I want to.”

“Why?”

“Can you stop that?”

“Can you go to bed?”

“No!”

“You need sleep.”

“I can manage my own health, thank you, Doctor Virgil.” He folded his arms across his chest. “I am an adult.”

“Sometimes.”

“Virgil!”

Gordon let off a loud snort. “That’s it. I’m putting you two in as married.”

“Gordon!” Both of them, in chorus. It was apparently a theme tonight.

“Well, you both argue like an old married couple, what can I do?”

“You can shut up and move onto the next question.”

Gordon poked his tongue out at Scott, but he didn’t stop grinning and Virgil was forced to hold back a smile himself.

Bratty little fish.

He was still smirking when he said, “Employment.”

“Oh god.” Scott sank back onto the couch and rubbed his face with his hands.

There followed a book’s worth of employment activities.

“Rocket surfing is not an occupation, Gordon.” Virgil sighed.

“Why not? Both Scott and Allie surf rockets.”

“Alan rides a rocket sled and Scott is just trying to give me grey hair.”

“Has he succeeded yet?” Bratty fish.

“None of your business.”

“So is International Rescue paid or unpaid work?” Gordon was frowning at the form.

“Unpaid.”  Scott’s tone was sharp.

“So are we unemployed, employed or self-employed?”

“Self-employed.”

“How much do you earn a year, Scotty?”

Their eldest brother paused as if calculating, but then threw up a hand. “Stuffed if I know.”

John snorted and rattled off a number.

“There isn’t enough space for that many zeros here, John.”

“Give me a moment.”

The display in front of Gordon flickered and each of their names received a variety of numbers…except for Alan.

“Hey, how come I don’t have any earnings?”

“You are a minor.” John spoke calmly, as if speaking to a minor.

“But I do stuff for Tracy Industries, I do.”

“All your income is held in trust, you know that.”

“Then who is paying for all that popcorn I bought this morning?”

Scott sighed. “Don’t worry, you’re not going to bust the bank.”

“We own the bank.”

Scott stared at John. “When did we buy a bank?”

“I bought it for your birthday last year but forgot to give it to you.”

“Oh.”

“I’m writing obscenely rich next to all our names. Oh, except for you, Allie. You’re a pauper.”

“Hey! You suck, Fishbrain.”

“Remember who might need to lend you money in the next couple of years…”

“While Gordon remembers who lent him money in the past, who still helps him with his finances, and who also is the one to fish him out of the ocean after every mission.” Virgil pinned Gordon with his eyes.

Gordon blinked. “You have a point.” A pause as a smile crept over his face. “Who was that again?”

The hologram of the census form wobbled as a lounge cushion flew through it and hit Gordon squarely in the face.

“Right on target. Hmm, I’ve still got it.” Scott blew imaginary smoke off a finger gun.

Unfortunately, Scott may have still had it, but he wasn’t the best marksman on this census form. The cushion rebounded via aquanaut and hit Scott squarely in the face with an oomph.

This forced both Virgil and Alan to come to his defence and for a full ten minutes after that, it was an all-out pillow fight between the brothers. Even John was drawn in as Gordon came up behind him and tried to stuff one down the back of his shirt.

Which wasn’t advisable since his gravity support was still in play. But then John was king of the noogie and immediately grabbed a head full of strawberry blond hair, dragged it down onto the couch beside him and made sure it received the full-on noogie treatment.

Gordon did squawk quite a bit.

An extreme one-on-one joust erupted between Scott and Alan. It was that determined that Virgil had to back out. Alan, being the terrier he was, managed to get Scott on his back on the lounge and sat on him pummelling him with pillows.

Virgil had suspicions that the game was rigged.

In any case, he had to find somewhere else to sit and tinker with his boot.

Eventually, Gordon found his way back to the census form. Scott was still on his back and apparently Alan had decided he preferred that his big brother stay that way by sitting on him and playing his computer game. Scott at least had a remaining cushion under his head, but one foot had taken out a pot plant and the other was hanging over the back of the sofa. His brother really was too tall for lying on the seating arrangements, but he didn’t seem to care.

With a bit of luck he might fall asleep.

“Okay, let’s finish this. How did you get to work today?” Gordon grunted. “This form has no rockets, planes, submarines or space elevators on it.”

“Tick the ‘other’ box and let them work it out.” John let out a yawn.

Virgil eyed him.

John screwed up his face and poked out his tongue.

Wha-“ Virgil blinked.

“Hey, Virg, how many hours did you work last week?”

That distracted him enough to turn to Gordon. “How the hell do I know?”

“You worked them. I bet you know your flight hours.”

“Today’s. Not last week. That was last week.”

“Eos, send Gordon last week’s record?”

The AI chimed in at her father’s request. “Yes, John.”

Another document appeared in front of Gordon. “Wow, that much? Really?”

“The documentation is correct as recorded.” Eos sounded a little miffed. But then she never particularly liked Gordon on the best of days.

His fault, of course.

“Virg, you win, but only by a bit over Scott and that was because he twisted his ankle on Monday.”

“Sprained, you mean.”

“Twisted.” It came from the couch and was strangled by a little brother.

“Sprained. He should have been off for several days, but he’s an idiot.”

“You can’t talk, Mr Bruised-not-cracked.”

“At least I’m not Cracked-not-broken.”

“Sure.”

Scott might have said more but Alan whacked him with a pillow. “You guys are idiots. Gords, John and I are lucky our grey hairs don’t show.” Alan growled. “I’m sixteen, for crying out loud, and I know more about hospitals than I ever wanted to. Look after yourselves, you morons.”

Silence hit the room again.

“Way to go, Allie. You tell ‘em.” Gordon’s words were honest.

Of course, Scott was devastated and immediately questioning all his life choices. Virgil wasn’t far behind, but Scott, in particular had a sensitive spot where Alan was concerned.

“Hey.” He reached out a hand and rested it on their little brother’s arm. “Talk to me, Allie.”

Alan growled again. “I’m fine as long as you two look after yourselves. We kinda need you, you know.”

Scott grabbed his little brother and dragged him down into a hug. “I’m sorry.”

Virgil sat with his boot in his lap needing to grab both his brothers but not wanting to interrupt their moment.

He shouldn’t have worried. A second later Gordon jumped over the back of the couch, landed beside him and grabbed him, dragging him sideways into an oomph of a hug. “Don’t worry, my dear wingman, we still love you even if you are an idiot.”

“Gordon…”

“Admit it, you want a hug.”

“Shut up.”

Gordon didn’t say anything further, but he did squeeze tighter.

“When you get to the questions on whether any of us looked after children, Gordon, tick yes for all of us.” John’s tone was as dry as a desert.

“Will do.” Gordon grinned at him.

Scott actually fell asleep after that. It was about time. Apparently, Alan made a great teddy bear.

Alan grumbled about that for days, but Virgil knew his little brother treasured his relationship with Scott and the fact he fell asleep as well was rather telling.

But that fact pretty much ended the census form filling for that night.

The next morning saw all of them out on an earthquake and it wasn’t until two days later that Gordon realised they hadn’t submitted the form.

Grabbing Scott and Virgil, he ran them through the last of the questions, landing on the definitions of their dwelling.

“How many registered motor vehicles do we have at this dwelling?”

“Er, none? We have no roads.” Virgil frowned at the obvious answer.

“Three rockets, two planes and a submarine don’t count?”

An arched eyebrow. “Does it say anything about planes? Tracy Two and Three are registered in Aotearoa.”

“Aotearoa is not the United States.”

“But they are still registered.”

Scott sighed. “Read the form properly, guys. It says exclude heavy vehicles.”

“Well, that strikes Virg off the list, but your ‘bird’s a pansy.”

That earned Gordon a mocking whack up the back of the head.

“Gords, just write zero. The intent is there.”

“Fine. We have no motor vehicles. Stupid form.” A sigh. “Okay, how many bedrooms do we have?”

Scott answered that one. “Ten.”

“I thought it was twelve.”

“One went to an art studio and the other to a music recording room.”

Gordon glared at Virgil. “Way to take over the house, bro.”

“And how many fish tanks do you have in how many rooms? Not to mention the chunk of vegetable garden we had to sacrifice for Rover’s pond?”

“Leave Rover out of this. That wasn’t his fault.”

Virgil snorted. “Not his.”

“Shut up.”

Scott sighed again. “We have ten bedrooms.” He scanned the rest of the form, which thankfully wasn’t very long. “We own the place outright, and yes, they can archive our information for our grandkids to access. Tick the boxes and get this sent so I can go get some lunch.”

“Yes, Commander.”

Scott growled but Gordon ignored him.

Boxes all ticked, he hit the submit button.

“This form has already been submitted. You may not submit it again.” Underneath was the date of the day before census night. “What the hell? How could we open it if - ” Scott hit his comms. “John!”

John’s hologram flickered up beside the misbehaving census form. “I’m between a hurricane in Bermuda and an avalanche in the Pyrenees. How may I help you?”

“What?!”

“Oh, the census form. Eos submitted that three days ago.” Their space brother was distracted a moment out of pick up range as Scott’s jaw dropped. “Needed to get it done before Gordon got his hands on it. Besides, we can’t guarantee we wouldn’t have been called out anyway, so I got it done beforehand.”

“Then why the hell were we going through the damned thing on census night?”

John blinked. “You had fun, didn’t you? We shared an evening together.”

Virgil joined both his brothers at staring at John.

The astronaut just smirked back at them. “You did a great job, Gordon. Thanks.” The smirk turned into a grin. “Thunderbird Five out.” His hologram disappeared.

Scott’s face curdled. “I’m going to kill him.”

Virgil let his shoulders drop and sighed. “You said that last time he did something like this, and he’s still kicking.”

“I’m soaking his underwear in saltwater.” Gordon had that fire in his eyes that usually preceded a Tracy Island Armageddon.

“Gords…”

“He played me, Virg. He knew what I would do and played me. He thinks I’m predictable!”

“Yeah, but he obviously did it for the right reasons.”

Virgil found himself the target of two glares. “What? You want a group hug or something? C’mere.” And he grabbed the both of them, wrapping his arms around them. “Happy Census Night.”

The grumbling was worth it.

-o-o-o-

[31nightshade]

Roman looks up from the movie he and Patton are watching to see Virgil walk down the stairs.

" hello gloom and doom what gives us the displeasure of your deathly appearance."

Virgil let's out a dry laugh.

"go sit in daddy's lap princey or the evil wizard will cast you out"

Roman clearly offended by Virgil's mocking picks him self up huffing all the way to Patton.

who chuckles at his boyfriend's childish behavior opens his arms for the grumpy Roman who claims on his lap and looks back at Virgil.

"don't you have a living room"

Virgil throws his pillow and blanket down before falling down on top of them.

" yes I do but this one Logan banished me too, and you have one too so why aren't you there?"

Roman Puffs his cheek searching for a retort.

"so why are you banished from your kingdom by your strict but loving king"

Virgil shrugs trying to get comfortable on the stuffy couch.

"wasn't anything too big lo just got really frustrated and couldn't stand me any more so I'm here."

Patton gives him a concerned look but Virgil is quick to cut him off

" know he loves me it's not like he will leave me out here all night just until he calms down"

Patton still concerned about the situation blurted.

"how do you know that?"

Virgil smirks finally getting comfortable in his spot and piped up.

"he has a timer called 'I've calmed down so it's time to make sure Virgil isn't having any cognitive distortions and get him to bed so he can have a productive rest'."

Patton looks a little surprised by the length of the alarm name but quickly recovers because he knows Logan.

"that's not specific at allll"

roman mouths off

" It is"

" D-does that not unsettle you that your boyfriend plans how to handle you?!?"

roman sputters

Virgil readjust himself not at all affected by Romans choice of words and affirms

" no not at all it comforts me that I have someone that will always be by my side and that understands what I need."

Roman's focus is back on the tv avoiding a light guilt that tickles him. Virgil goes to sleep.

Logan does in fact wake up Virgil and roman apologizes in the morning.