#i have never heard him call him virge before | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lavenderbexlatte · 1 year

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day 10: virginity

nct/wayv 1.4k words female reader insert Reader x Liu Yangyang NSFW

🖤 warnings: outing your bro as a total virg, secret crushes, situation-typical coercion, overuse of brospeak/yangspeak🖤

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"I'm not a fucking virgin. Get out of my room."

Yangyang's voice holds more vitriol than you've probably ever heard from him, and that's how you know that you and Renjun - mostly Renjun - have officially crossed a line.

"It was just a joke," says Renjun.

You smile, but it feels more like a grimace on your face. "Obviously it was a little-"

"I mean, sorry if you're sensitive about it," he continues, absolutely unapologetic. "Like, okay, Xiao Dejun, way to be mad about nothing."

Yangyang fixes him with a look that would send a lesser zodiac sign running. "I told you to get out of my room."

Renjun, Aries sun, just shrugs. "If it wasn't true, you wouldn't be so mad."

But Renjun does leave, and you follow him out, giving Yangyang another pleading smile that he misses entirely as he turns around to clamp his headphones over his ears and glare at his computer screen.

What was supposed to be a chill night in Yangyang's apartment is ruined. His roommate is out of town and everything (Ten is cool but he's overbearing, and he wins every single board game that the lot of you try to drunkenly play, so you don't miss him this time).

But Renjun had been bragging about his latest hookup-turned-Something, with an insufferable guy from the music department, when the cursed line had been uttered.

Yangyang had showed about three seconds of disinterest, and Renjun had snapped, "At least I'm getting some. Not like some adult virgins we know."

It was vague but pointed, undeniably mean. Renjun can be mean, everyone knows that, but it's not usually used against any of the friend group. That's why, at this sudden slight from one of his closest friends, Yangyang immediately blushed an angry pink and lost his shit.

The two of you were banished from Yangyang's bedroom, where the PS5 is, but not from the apartment yet, so Renjun makes himself at home on the couch while you head to the kitchen for a beverage of some kind. And to clear your head.

You'd never even thought about Yangyang's virginity status before. Why would you? He's your friend, a dorm neighbor from freshman year who turned into a friend after one too many floor parties spent together.

Renjun really called him out, and from the over-the-top anger he'd received in return, you can't help but think that Renjun was one hundred percent right. You go on the occasional date that the boys know about, and Renjun is mostly out of his thot phase now but there was a while back there when he was getting around impressively. Ten, Kun, Chenle...even Dejun has incredible cringefail dick game.

But Yangyang...

"Did you really have to say that?" you ask, joining Renjun on the couch with a bottled coffee thing that you're pretty sure is Ten's.

He glances at the drink. "Ten-ge is gonna be pissed."

"Because you were kind of out of pocket."

"I didn't think he'd be so..." Renjun sighs. "I'll apologize when he chills out."

That's a good plan, in theory.

Only in theory, though, because Yangyang doesn't chill out. Not for the rest of the evening.

After another hour or so on the couch with you, Renjun knocks on his bedroom door, to no answer. He calls it a night and heads home soon after that.

You stick around.

The dude very obviously had his feelings hurt, and eventually he's going to need to talk about it. Ten is usually the one who gets Yangyang to open up, but he's not here, so you think you're probably the next best thing. A very far second.

It's a dumb thing for anyone to be upset about. Especially someone as interesting and funny as Yangyang, someone so cute, so attracti-

Well. No reason to go overboard.

You knock on Yangyang's door, this time. It's late now, creeping closer to midnight, but you know that Yangyang doesn't sleep until the sun comes up again.

He doesn't answer. You knock harder.

The door flies open, Yangyang's snarling face on the other side. "Jesus fuck, Renjun, go shove a-"

"He went home," you interrupt.

"Then you should-"

"Can we talk?" you ask. "Pretty please?"

"About what? All the ass I'm not getting?"

You shrug. "If that's how you wanna phrase it, I guess."

It wouldn't surprise you if Yangyang stuck to his guns on this, but he sighs. He lets the door fall open more, as he turns on his heel to head back to his gaming chair.

"Can't wait until Hyuck and the whole hip-hop team know that I'm perpetually bitchless," Yangyang says.

There's a second of pause while you try desperately to figure out who Hyuck is - Renjun's fuckbuddy, that's it. The mop-headed one that Ten hates. And then you move to sit on Yangyang's bed.

"Renjun wouldn't do that," you say. "He felt really bad."

"He never feels bad."

That's kind of true, but still. "You guys are friends. He wouldn't wanna, like, fuck up your life on that scale."

"People are gonna know that I'm bitchless, and then no one will ever talk to me again."

"Stop saying bitchless, it's weird," you say. "And I really don't think anyone cares."

Yangyang spins his chair around to face you, your knees nearly touching as he looks at you with imploring puppy eyes. "It's not like I'm not trying, dude."

"Third-wheeling Ten to Johnny Suh's frat parties does not count as trying."

He ignores you. "I wanna get laid. It's just a lot of work, and people are so fake, and-"

"Just fuck someone you know," you interrupt. "It's either a total stranger, or someone you know well. Those are the best choices.

"Really?"

"In my experience, yes."

There's a beat of silence, and then, slowly, Yangyang's face breaks into a devious, awful grin.

It takes you another few seconds to figure it out.

"No!"

"Oh, come on!" he whines.

"Not if we were the last two people on earth!"

"You're already here!"

You scoff. "Oh, yeah, because that helps your case so much. Just what everyone wants to hear. 'You're convenient!'"

"It's not like that," Yangyang says. "You know I think you're amazing."

You're unreasonably touched, for an instant, by his choice of flattery. Not hot, not cool. Amazing.

"I know you're desperate, but it's a bad idea," you say.

But even as you protest, you know how you feel.

Yangyang is a good friend, a buddy. He's also irresistibly charming and quick, increasingly handsome as he's grown into his features over the few years you've known him. You've kind of got a soft spot for him, more than for any of your other friends, and you're suspecting that he kind of knows it.

"Fine," he says. "I'm just going to deal with my virg sadness by rubbing one out."

"Ew."

As if daring you, Yangyang slips his stupid cutoff tee over his head, standing there in just his low-slung shorts. He dramatically walks the semicircle around you and flops down on his back on the other side of the bed. You eye the pale jut of his ribs against his skinny torso, the wispiest excuse for a happy trail-

"You can leave. Or you can stick around," he says. "Y'know. If you want."

"You wouldn't dare-"

But he dares, hands going to the buckle of his thick cloth belt.

Well.

Ten's not home, and won't be home all week. Renjun is gone.

You stand up from the bed, as Yangyang is still undoing his belt with agonizing slowness, and slam and lock his bedroom door. Can't be too careful. Lots of people know the passcode to get in here. And the last thing you want is Guanheng or Chenle or someone coming in here and seeing this.

Seeing you, as you throw the last of your caution right out the slightly-popped window and climb right onto the bed again.

Right onto Yangyang.

He yelps, like he thinks you're attacking him, as you move to sit on top of his thighs, effectively pinning him to the mattress. The open belt and button of his shorts is tempting, though the thick band of his boxers has been visible the whole time anyway.

Yangyang's face, however, is just intrigued. Flustered, a bit, but not scared. His hands twitch against his covers like he wants to touch you, but isn't sure if he can.

"Do you actually wanna be un-virginized?" you ask, annoyed despite all of your interest (how did you get here?!).

He nods as well as he can, hair fanning against his pillow. "So badly."

Your heart is fluttering. You hate to admit it.

"Then it's your lucky day."

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emtb319 · 3 months

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For @tracybirds Happy Thunderpride!

‘Is it done John?’ Virgil didn’t regret making the call. It was this or a bigger headache with a lot more paperwork.

‘In about 30 seconds. I’m sure the entire island will hear it, just waiting for Alan to finish turnover. It’s the last thing I’ll do before I take off for home.’ John was double checking everything for his return trip home.

‘Ok, we’re ready down here. Who has the password?’

‘Gordon. As much as I love you Virgil, if he pushes you enough, you'll cave. On the other hand, Gordon will write it on a piece of paper, stick it to a fishing pole, and wave it in front of his face, just out of his reach.’ Virgil chuckled.

‘No offense taken John. I was just wondering who had it, just in case. I actually thought you’d given it to Penny or Tin.’

‘I considered them, but they’re both off island. Better to have it more local.’

‘Agreed, ready?’ John finished up the last few things and settled into the pilot’s seat.

‘Flipping now.’ Within seconds, Scott saw a message take over his screens. The groan could be heard all the way in England.

‘You’d better leave 5 now John, before he tries to convince someone to call you.’

‘FAB. I’ll see you all soon.’ Scott walked into the room, just as John cut the link.

‘Virgil,’ Scott started, ‘really?’

‘Yes Scott, really.’ Scott rolled his eyes and was about to speak when Virgil cut him off. ‘In all fairness big brother, you were warned. You need rest and a break. Your injury will never heal properly if you don’t.’ Scott opened his mouth to protest, and Virgil cut him off again. ‘Don’t even try it. We’re all paramedics, but I’m the family medic. You may be able to fool the others, but not me. You have 2 options right now, take this break, and I’ll keep my mouth shut about your ribs, or you can keep going on like an idiot, and I’ll turn this into medical downtime. What would you rather?’

‘You don’t play fair.’

‘No I don’t. What’s your choice?’

‘Ok, ok, you win. Regular downtime. You really don’t play fair.’

‘Noted. Now, John will be some soon enough. He’s going to do the supply run with me and Gordon. Don’t forget to add what you need to the list please.’

‘Already done.’

‘Ok, now scoot. It’ll be lunch time in a little bit, why don’t you take advantage of this nice weather and eat on the beach.’

–

‘How’d it go Virg?’

‘Better than I thought Gords. Honestly though, I was expecting more of an argument. Just let me know if he tries to break into the system or bother you for the password.’

‘Well, you did pull the John card. You never do that.’ A bunch of noise from the kitchen caught their attention. ‘What is he doing?’

‘I mentioned maybe enjoying lunch down on the beach today to relax.’ Virgil took a good look at the mess in the kitchen and the basket being packed. ‘Just how much food is he packing?’

‘Finally.’

‘Finally what Gordon?’

‘He’s finally taking the first step. It’s about time too.’ Virgil pinched his nose and groaned.

‘Gordon, not enough coffee yet this morning. Take a step back and try again please.’

‘Scott’s smitten and has been for a while now, but he’s never done anything about it. Didn’t you hear what he was saying?’

‘His mumbles? Yea, I heard him mumbling, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying.’

‘I heard enough. He was trying to remember if Brains liked lemonade or grape juice more.’

‘Ahh…so finally.’

‘Yup, finally.’

‘Ok, let’s let him be and get ready for our supply run. Once John lands, we’ll head out. I was thinking…pizza night tonight.’

‘Oooooo, and a movie? I’m sure Alan can beam in later. I'm pretty sure Kyrano sent him up with his favorite pizza.’ Gordon started bouncing. He always loved their movie and pizza nights. ‘Can I have pineapple?’

‘Gordon relax. Yes we can do movie night, and I’ll never understand how you and TinTin can eat pineapple on pizza.’

‘Don’t knock it Virg.’

‘I’ll knock it all I want. It’s just not right.’ Gordon started to pout.

‘You’ve hurt my feelings big brother,’ he said, laying it on thick.

‘I’m sure. 1 pizza…only 1, for you two to share. What movie are you thinking?’

‘Hmmm, how about Top Gun? Scott and Alan both really like that one.’

‘Sure. Now go shower. John will be landing soon.’

–

Scott watched his younger brothers take off for the supply run. It was rare that John wanted to join in on it, but Scott was pleased to see him branching out a little bit.

‘Gordon remember, only 1 pineapple pizza. That’ll be plenty for the two of you. The rest of us would appreciate our favorites too, you know.’

‘I know Scott. Virgil told me, John reminded me, and now you too. I promise to bring home lots of pizza for our movie night tonight. All different varieties…something for everyone.’ Scott smiled.

‘We’ll see you all later. I already called in the order for pick up in a few hours. You have the list, right? I think Kyrano and Brains added a few small pickups too.’

‘They did, and yes we have it,’ Virgil answered. ‘Enjoy your afternoon Scott.’

‘I will. Be careful.’

Scott had noticed that Brains was holed up in his lab. The last record was 5 days. His impromptu picnic was the perfect opportunity to get him out of his lab for a break. He finished setting up the beach before heading down to the lab.

When he arrived at the lab, he stood in the doorway and smiled. Any time something happened to them on one of their missions, he would go into full blown hermit mode while he worked out how to prevent something from happening again. Because he was so engrossed in his work, he didn’t hear Scott approach.

‘Hey fella.’ Nothing, no answer. Scott got his attention when he placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘Hey, you need to eat.’

‘H-huh?’ Brains’s brain hadn’t quite caught up with the conversation yet.

‘Break time. I’m taking one too. Why don’t you come join me for some lunch? Get some air, some food, and rest and reset for a moment.’

‘I-I’m sorry Scott, but I can’t right now. This is very important work.’

‘It’s always important work. Your work is some of the most important stuff here, and we all see, appreciate, and love your hard work and dedication. You work tirelessly to keep our birds in their best shape possible to help keep us safe on our missions.

‘S-safe,’ Brains huffed. M-more than once your birds failed to protect you guys.’

‘No,’ Scott started, turning Brains around to face him. ‘No, more than once we only got off with a few bumps and bruises instead of something far worse. Case in point, my ribs. Yes I’m sore and need rest, but nothing’s broken or life threatening. Without your technology, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.’ Scott paused a moment. ‘Do you remember what Granddad used to tell us?’ Brains shook his head.

‘If you do not schedule system maintenance, your system will schedule it for you. He wasn’t talking about work. He was referring to self care. And yes, I know, kettle meet teapot. I didn’t listen to his advice and now I’m on forced downtime so that I can take proper care of myself. I should have done this weeks ago. I would have been better off.’ Brains considered his words.

‘I-I guess it’s been a while since I’ve taken a break.’

‘Then it’s settled, come join me for some lunch.’

‘Join you?’

‘Yes. It’s just us for the next few hours, until my brothers get home with the supplies and pizza. I made a nice lunch, food enough for both of us. It’s set up down on the beach.’

‘Oh okay.’ They took the short walk from his lab to the picnic that Scott had set up for them. ‘S-scott, you did all of this?’

‘It’s nothing much, really. Just some sandwiches, fruit, and juice. You like lemonade, right?,’ he asked as he started to pour their drinks.

‘Y-ses, thank you. You really didn’t have to do all of this.’

‘We both needed a break,’ Scott started as he started to plate their food. ‘I don’t know about you, but I like your company, and since we both seemed to need a moment….I thought this was a good idea.’ Scott was stammering, unsure if he made the right decision.

‘I-I like spending time with you too. You’re one of the few people I know that doesn’t mind listening to me prattle on about my stuff.’ Scott smiled.

‘I don’t pretend to understand it all, but you always talk about your work with such passion.’ Scott didn’t expect to go down this road, but his mouth wouldn’t stop now that it started. ‘I like you for who you are, all of it. Please never stop being you. To be honest, I can’t imagine a life without you in it.’ Brains didn’t know what to say. No one had ever spoken to him like this before. ‘May I admit something to you?’ His mouth still didn’t seem to want to stop.

‘S-scott, you have my strictest confidence.’

‘When you were on the Anasta expedition, it was the first time, in a long time, that I was scared.’

‘Why?’

‘You were so excited. I watched you spend hours planning. Even during your first check in, you were so hopeful about what you expected to find the next day.’ Scott took a moment. ‘But the next morning, you missed your check in. I wanted to hope that you were just too busy with your excitement, but I knew something was wrong. I’ve seen you forget to eat or sleep, but you’ve never missed a check in.’

‘S-scott…’

‘I’m really sorry Brains. This has been on my mind a while. That day, Dad didn’t need to tell me twice to launch. Hell, if he had told me to wait, I would have gone anyway. I was both shocked and relieved to see you. Shocked to see you buried in the sand, relieved to see you alive. It wasn’t real until I had you out of that sand and leaning against my leg.’

‘I-I’m not sure what to say Scott.’

‘I’m sorry to offload like this on you. I really just wanted to have some lunch and relax. I hadn’t planned on this.’

‘Scott….stop….breathe. F-first, thank you for trusting me with this. Seeing you that day was a huge relief for me too. The logical part of me knew that you’d come once you realized something was wrong and that T-thunderbird 1 would be the first to arrive, but I was relieved to see you standing in front of me.’ Brains covered his hands with his own. ‘I-I can’t imagine a life without you in it either….I-I’m not sure what to do now.’ He said, turning timid.

‘How about this? We take it 1 step at a time. We both enjoy each other’s company, right?’

‘I-I’d like that,’

‘That settles it then. One step at a time and see what happens.’ They both smiled and continued their impromptu picnic. Scott didn’t expect them to have this conversation today. It really wasn’t his intention, but he’s glad they did.

‘S-scott, one thing first. I-I’m not sure what you expect of me. I’m relieved that we’ve both admitted our feelings to each other, but I-I don’t know what you expect.’ Scott took his hands in his own.

‘Nothing, I expect nothing.’ Brains looked at him, confused. ‘Really. I’m just happy to have you in my life. If this leads to something more, great…if not, then I still have you as a close friend, and that’s ok too. Do you expect anything of me?’

‘No Scott, same as you. 1 step at a time and see what happens.’

–

The next months go by. Brains had asked Scott for a favor, part because he needed to learn something, but it would also be the perfect excuse to spend some extra time together. After Anasta, he realized that his self defense skills were not good enough. Scott was more than happy to work with him. Through these lessons, they took time to learn more about each other.

The more Brains learned about Scott and observed him, the more he saw his natural born leader. He would question Scott about the reasons behind some of his decisions. It wasn’t to criticize, but to help him break down the why behind it, so that next time, he could anticipate. If he could break down some of the decisions better, then he could improve their technology. Never once did Scott tire of his questions or lose patience with him.

They would face a big test with the Sun Probe mission. Scott knew that Brains was keeping a close eye on the mission. He had friends at mission control, and every so often, they’d run their ideas or calculations by him. Scott came down to his lab to see if he wanted to watch over the broadcast with them. He wasn’t surprised when Brains said no, that he’d rather keep working on Braman. Braman was his newest project. There was talk about what to do next if the Sun Probe mission went well. Rumor had it that they were considering a deep space mission. If they were to accomplish that though, they’d probably have to use hibernation pods, which meant that they’d need a robot like Braman to help. If he could get Braman to think faster, better, more independently, then he could gift it to the program.

‘T-thank you Scott, but I want to keep working here.’

‘Ok, just don’t forget to eat something.’

‘I won’t. I have my coffee here too.’ Scott left him to his work and returned to the lounge to watch the broadcast. While watching it, Jeff mentioned that Brains should be there to watch with them. Before Scott could answer, Jeff got up and went down to the lab to fetch Brains.

Jeff smiled as Brains essentially shooed him from his lab. He knew all he needed to know about the mission, and he had a direct link with his friends over there. He didn’t need the broadcast to know what was happening.

Brains did take a break once he saw the data start streaming in. After a moment, he made a hurried call to his friends, but they didn’t answer. They were probably all too busy celebrating the mission’s success. He could see a problem brewing. He went up to the lounge to inform Mr. Tracy of his concerns. He saw them all watching the broadcast still and expressed his concern. A few moments later, the broadcaster confirmed that they hadn’t fired their retro rockets to return them home. International Rescue was needed. While Jeff called Cape Kennedy, Brains went back to his lab to pour over his data and maybe distract himself some.

After his call, Jeff convened everyone in the lounge, and they started going over options. As they threw out ideas, Brains crunched numbers in his head. He knew that his birds and technology were good, but would they be good enough? Safety and excellence first, he always told himself, which meant that he had extra room to work, but even pushing things, it was too close to tell if they could pull this off. Thunderbird 3 could withstand a lot, but this went well over anything they thought to test. She would have the clearer shot with her beam, but Thunderbird 2’s were stronger. The problem was, he couldn’t just switch them with each other. He could modify them both, maybe make them work a little bit better, but he couldn’t just switch them. He stored that as a future problem to solve.

In the end, they took Gordon’s idea and decided to try both approaches. Hopefully 1 or both would work. Just before Thunderbird 3 was ready to launch, Scott came down by him.

‘Hey fella,’ he started, handing him a cup, ‘have some coffee.’

‘T-thanks Scott. I-I’m still nervous about this mission. The numbers are too close to tell.’

‘Safety and excellence first, right?’ Scott said, turning him around to face him. ‘You’ve poured every fiber of your being into these craft. I trust that they will get the job done.’

‘S-scott…’

‘No, Brains. I trust you. I trust your machines. Trust me on this mission. We will bring them home and be home before you know it.’

‘Of course I trust you. I-it’s the numbers, that’s all. I-I can’t stop going over them.’

‘You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t,’ Scott said, giving him a hug. ‘Dad wants to meet with us all 1 more time before we launch.’

‘I-I’ll only be a moment. I just need to put these panels back on.’

‘Good man,’ Scott said as he left to return to the lounge. Brains kept thinking. There were too many unknowns, it was too close.

Up in the lounge, they went over the mission parameters 1 more time. Jeff couldn’t hide his worry about sending Tin Tin on the mission, but Alan was right, he needed an engineer with them in space. Brains was needed in Thunderbird 2 for her part. After the briefing, Scott stole a quick moment with Brains.

‘Save this for later,’ he said, handing him a box. He then returned to the lounge and set off.

With Thunderbird 3 launching, Brains shifted his focus to Thunderbird 2. He couldn't shake off his anxiety with this mission, and it got worse the more he ran his numbers. He had to keep telling himself to have faith. After all, Scott seemed to have faith in him and his machines. He repeated to himself that he was an excellent engineer, and he wouldn’t be with International Rescue if he wasn’t. Thankfully he made sure to have his checklists for everything. They helped to keep him on point. Unfortunately, they weren’t a fool proof way to check everything. He missed that Virgil had packed the wrong box.

Before leaving the island, Brains put the box that Scott had given him on his work bench. He needed to grab some of his tools to make some adjustments to Thunderbird 2.

Out in space, the first part of the mission was relatively uneventful. Scott heard Alan mumbling to himself.

‘I just don’t get him sometimes.’

‘Who Alan?’ Alan looked at him surprised. He hadn’t realized that he was talking loud enough for anyone else to hear him.

‘Brains. It’s been bothering me. I mean, why would he rather play with his robot than watch the broadcast with us? Wouldn’t he have seen the issue sooner?’ Scott shook his head.

‘Did it ever occur to you that he wanted to keep himself busy? Or that he has friends in mission control that were feeding him information faster and earlier than any broadcast could?’

‘Ummm…’

‘In fact, if he hadn’t been in his lab to see the data himself, he probably wouldn’t have realized the danger as fast as he did. Did you know that he tried to call mission control before coming upstairs?’

‘No, I didn’t,’ Alan answered sheepishly.

‘His friends were so busy that they didn’t see the danger, nor did they answer his call.’ Alan was seeing Scott’s passionate side. It could be downright intimidating.

‘Geeze Scott, don’t jump down my throat. It was just a question.’

‘Alan, you and I both know that it wasn’t ‘just a question’. There was more to it than that. You honestly thought that he didn’t care.’

‘Whatever Scott.’

‘No Alan, not whatever. If you had spent even 5 minutes with him before all of this, you would have known. Instead, you assumed and let yourself get hung up over nothing. Did you know that he’s looking to gift Braman to the space program? Did you know that if the Sun Probe mission goes well, that they’re considering other deeper space missions?’

‘Wait, really?’ Scott turned his attention to the panel in front of him and continued speaking.

‘Yea, there’s talk about a deep space manned mission, but that’ll probably need to involve those hibernation sleepers. Which means that they’d need something to help watch over the ship while her astronauts are asleep, that’s why he built Braman. That’s why he’s trying to get him perfected. Braman would be a huge asset to them.’

‘I didn’t know all of that,’ Alan admitted.

‘No you didn’t Alan.’ Things were quiet for a little bit before Alan spoke up.

‘Say Scott. How do you know all of this? Last I checked, you didn’t have a huge interest in space exploration.’

‘I’ve spent time with him, taking interest in his interests.’ Alan got quiet again. He realized how wrong he really was about just about everything in the past 24 hours.

‘I’m sorry Scott. It was pretty rotten of me to think that way about him.’ Scott ruffled his hair.

‘It’s ok Sprout. Next time though, look at the situation from all sides. You were just looking through your eyes, that you didn’t see things through his. It’ll help you with your missions too, you know. Bad assumptions/blindness lead to mission failures.’

‘I will Scott, I promise. Say, if I act like a twit like this again, feel free to snap me out of it.’

‘Sure little brother, sure.’ After their conversation, they decided to test their beam. Scott was hoping that they’d be lucky. The beam wasn’t enough, they had to go closer, but Scott didn’t want to risk Tin Tin’s life.

‘Alan, call Tin Tin and tell her to get to the escape capsule.’

‘Scott, we can ask her if she wants to go, but I know her well enough to know how she’ll answer.’

‘It’s not about asking her, Alan. I’m telling her to get into the escape capsule.’

‘Listen Scott. She knew the risks when she came with us, and we need an engineer down there. I might be good, you might be good, but out of the 3 of us, she’s the best. If something needs to be adjusted or if something goes wrong, we will need her to fix it. I trust my bird, but I simply don’t know enough about the beam to fix it if it breaks, or even how much I can push it.’

‘She doesn’t have to take this risk with us.’

‘She chose to come. You can ask her, but I’m pretty sure that I know her answer.’

‘You don’t speak for her you know. I know you two are close, but you don’t make decisions for her.’

‘Like what you're trying to do now?’

‘Touché little brother.’

‘Scott, ask her, but don’t be surprised when she tells you no.’ Alan was right. She refused to leave them.

Back on Earth, Brains and Virgil were busy working on their own calculations. Their beam wasn’t good enough. The beam in Thunderbird 3 would have to work. Brains knew that Tin Tin was working tirelessly on her own modifications and calculations. It had to work. As Brains picked through his own data to see if he could get their beam to work, he saw the Sun Probe craft move to head back towards Earth. Brains thought to himself, after this mission, I am picking apart every piece of this data. Thunderbird 3 needs to be able to handle deeper space missions if the space agency was going to go deeper into space.

As he was deep in thought, they heard from base. Mr. Tracy confirmed that Thunderbird 3 was able to fire the Sun Probe’s rockets, but they could see that Thunderbird 3 hadn’t fired her own to turn around to return home. He had to do something. This mission would not end this way. They still had their beam. Thunderbird 3 was closer to the Earth than the Sun Probe. Maybe they could reach 3. It was a long shot, but they had to try. He discussed his idea with Virgil. Virgil was on board, so they went over to the pod to get the mobile computer. Brains needed help with the math. They discovered that they had packed Braman by accident, but he was able to get the job done. His calculations brought Thunderbird 3 and her crew home.

After the mission debrief, and some much needed rest, Scott joined Brains and Braman in their game of chess.

‘Did you open my box?’

‘No Scott. W-with the excitement of the mission, I didn’t have time. I’ll go get it.’

‘I’ll walk down with you.’ They made the quick walk in comfortable silence. Scott saw the box, picked it up, and handed it to Brains. ‘You didn’t have to wait, you know. Here, open it.’ It was a simple box. Brains opened it, unsure why Scott had given him this.

‘O-one of your dog tags?’

‘Yes, I wear the other one still,’ he said, pulling out the one around his neck. ‘But, I wanted you to have this.’ Scott took the necklace out of the box and put it around Brains’s neck. ‘Do you know what it means when a soldier give someone their dog tags?’

‘No Scott, I don’t.’

‘Soldiers do not share their tags easily or lightly. It signifies the highest trust and respect. It means that I trust you with my life. It is also a reminder that you are never alone, and that you’ll always have someone fighting for you.’ Scott steadied himself, his hand covering the do tag on Brains’s chest. Brains was at a loss for words.

‘I want you to know how I feel. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I care about you a lot, and I cannot imagine my life without you in it.’

‘Nor I without you S-scott. Thank you for this,’ he said, placing his hands over Scott’s on his chest. ‘I’ll cherish this always.’

#thunderpride #thunderpride 2024

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lefaystrent · 9 days

Text

Me, Myself, and These Guys Who Kinda Look Like Me Ch. 7

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: Thomas/The Sides

Summary: It starts with dreams. Then Thomas starts seeing the dream people in the waking world.

Thomas doesn't know how to bring it up to anybody or if he even should at this point.

AKA, Thomas has to acknowledge the six colorful characters in the room, much to their long-awaited delight.

Ao3 Link: click here

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

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"I believe you wanted a conversation? Let's talk."

And so they do.

Rules are established to assist with boundaries, and in the days that follow, they are adjusted as they adapt.

Rule number one: Thomas's bedroom is a sacred temple. When the door is shut, no one shall utilize incorporeal states of being to trespass. Anyone may knock as needed, but it's up to Thomas if he'd like company. Likewise, if the door is open, it is understood that company is welcome.

Seems simple enough, right?

Thomas wakes up to the sound of his bedroom door creaking open. He scrubs the sleep from his eyes, peering at the alarm clock to see he's been asleep all of three hours.

"Whass it?" Thomas mumbles and pushes up clumsily. He thinks something must be wrong, or that he must not have heard a knock. Maybe he's dreaming. Wouldn't be the first time that he thought he woke up in a dream.

The door practically slams closed.

"Eh?"

Is he...being spied on? What did they want? Who was it? Why did they have to wake him? Can he lay back down and go to sleep? Wow, that was loud. And rude. Or something's wrong. What's wrong? Was he having a nightmare? He thinks he was having a nightmare. There was a math test involved. Ew.

The door opens again, wider this time. Virgil hovers in the doorway, shoulders hiked up to his ears and shame-faced.

"I am so sorry," he blurts out. "I didn't mean to do that. Or wake you. I'll go."

"No, no, what's wrong?" Thomas calls back before the door can close. Sleep dust cakes his eyes, but he's got half a brain functioning. He can tell something's off.

"It's stupid," Virgil deflects, as if that is a compelling defense.

"S'not stupid. What's up, buttercup?"

Wow, Thomas really is only half awake. The only reason his head hasn't reacquainted itself with his pillow is because of his propped-up arm. His eyes don't get the memo. They droop down, closed.

Virgil doesn't answer.

Huh.

Thomas has a sneaking suspicion he'll have to open his eyes again.

"Virge?"

"I, uh, I was just checking on you. In case anyone was trying to break in. Or if you had fallen. Or if there was a gas leak. There could be a gas leak right now. You never know, ya know?"

"...eh?"

"Anyway, I'm dumb, go back to sleep dude. Sorry."

And the door shuts once more, more mindful this time.

If it had just been Virgil, Thomas thinks he could have puzzled through it. Clearly Virgil is the anxious sort. After the fire incident, Virgil has insisted on being present whenever cooking is involved. Even if he's not the one cooking, he wants to watch like a hawk. It's like his own personal lifeguard, but on land. In his house. This is a perfect analogy.

Thomas can hella relate to having anxiety. Most people, when they meet Thomas, mistake him for being an extrovert. And that can be an exhausting image to keep up, but Thomas is an actor after all. Regardless, he wants to cut Virgil some slack. With the installment of the new rules, he's having trouble adjusting, and that's okay. It's all part of the learning process.

Virgil confides that sometimes he would check on Thomas in the middle of the night (or day, curse Thomas's sleeping habits) to soothe his random bursts of paranoia. Thomas sympathizes, he does. If something happens to Thomas and he dies, what happens to the dream people? Where do they go?

It's not just Virgil though. Roman and Remus keep forgetting about the knocking rule.

Thomas dives headfirst back into work the first chance he gets. He sits at his desk in his bedroom, screen displaying a script. It's the final countdown so to speak, and Thomas is delaying the inevitable because the perfectionist in him tells him it's not good enough. There's something missing. It could be better. It can always be better.

"You should throw in a 'Mean Girls' reference there at the end."

Thomas glances towards the bottom of the script. He tilts his head. "Yeah, you're right, I could wear a pink shirt."

"Exactly."

It takes a moment, but Thomas frowns and looks to his right where Roman is reading the script happily over his shoulder.

"I thought I had my door closed..."

The faint smile on Roman's face freezes. His body tenses so hard Thomas can almost feel it vicariously. "Uh...yeaaah."

"Roman."

"...I may have forgotten you can see us."

"..."

"...how mad are you?"

Thomas isn't mad. He understands that it will take time. For years they've lived a certain way. He doesn't expect things to change overnight. However, this has to be corrected. In order to do that, Thomas has to be firm in the boundaries he's set.

Thomas takes one look at Roman's obvious dejection and caves hard.

"Do you want to help me edit the rest?" he asks.

Enforcing boundaries is difficult, okay?! Really, he has no one to blame but himself. He's a sucker. A big softie sucker.

When he discusses this with Logan, the man comforts him by parsing out the reasons behind why he struggles to say no.

"Give me an example," Logan instructs.

"Well, just last night I was laying in bed trying to go to sleep... okay I might have been scrolling on my phone. But anyway! I was in bed, and then the closet door opened."

"Remus?"

"Remus."

"He has a fascination with closets that baffles me beyond comprehension."

"I've noticed. It was kinda spooky at first, which I think was the point. But he ended up coming out and started talking to me."

"Was that all? Sorry, that sounded dismissive, let me rephrase. Is that the only actions he took?"

"Uh...pretty much? He sat beside my bed on the floor and just talked about random things. Like dolphins and Catholicism."

"He has a rather stream of consciousness mentality to the way he jumps from one topic to the other. I believe he only wished to engage you in conversation, albeit at an inopportune time."

"Yeah..."

"Based on the context of this conversation, I guess that you allowed that conversation to continue without interruption?"

Thomas did. He had put down his phone and it invigorated Remus to have Thomas's undivided attention. It's like he'd been saving up years' worth of ideas for this moment.

And Thomas... Thomas didn't want to take that away from him.

"Yeah, I did," Thomas admits meekly, as if he'd been in the wrong. Was it so wrong of him?

Janus sweeps by them on his way to peruse Thomas's book collection. Thomas would think it's an excuse to eavesdrop if Janus hadn't been spending the past few days with his nose in a book. At the very least, he may be taking his sweet time going about it, thumbing through the options.

Janus does indeed reveal he's been listening by commenting, "You're not going to offend him if you tell him to go away, if that's what you're worried about."

"That's not..." Thomas rubs his knuckles together. He squints his eyes as if that will reveal his feelings better. "I don't want to tell anyone to go away."

Janus shrugs and doesn't say anything further. His silence rattles Thomas more than what he could say. It leaves him thinking on it more.

Logan taps at his chin and Thomas waits for him to make sense of this for him. "Perhaps not to go away then. If it is reframed more politely as you saying, 'I am interested in this topic, but as I am busy at the moment, could we discuss this at a later time?' Would that be preferential?"

Still no. Thomas shakes his head.

"What do you believe would happen if you did say something along those lines?"

Thomas imagines it. He imagines cutting off Remus. How it would kill the light in his eyes. He thinks of pushing Roman out of his room. How he'd feel betrayed after Thomas promised to entertain his dreams. He pictures Virgil at his door, Thomas snapping at him to leave him alone. How Virgil would think he doesn't appreciate him.

"I don't want to make them feel bad," Thomas says at length. "And I don't want them to hate me."

Logan places a hand on his shoulder. It's solid and grounding, and for a moment Logan is almost distracted by the contact but pushes through it.

"Remember what we discussed the other day? And how Virgil verbalized a similar fear? That he was afraid you would hate us? You are jumping to a false conclusion and imagining the worst-case scenario. This is known as catastrophizing."

"Besides that," Janus adds, comparing two books in his hands, "if voicing what makes you uncomfortable makes someone upset, then they obviously only care about their own self-interests."

Logan nods in agreement. "For relationships to succeed, communication must take place in some form. If you struggle to verbalize your needs, I would like to propose an alternative."

The proposal is Thomas's stuffed bear Benjamin.

It's wonderfully simple, if a little silly. Whenever one of them has forgotten themselves and phase through a door or wall they should not have, Thomas hands them the bear. It's a wordless gesture that says, "I see you, I'm not mad at you, this is just a reminder." Surprisingly, everyone is supportive of the idea.

Maybe a little too supportive. They are so eager to not overstep into Thomas's life that they frequently overcompensate. As Benjamin becomes an accepted part of Thomas expressing his need for space, Thomas picks up on how much the others are reluctant to voice their need for space. Or their wants in general.

"You guys can come to me if you need anything," Thomas had told them during their heart-to-heart the other day. "If there's anything I can do for you, just let me know."

They said sure.

They didn't lie. They're just afraid.

The most Thomas has gotten out of them is Logan and Roman expressing interest in aiding Thomas with meal prep. It's okay now and then, but Thomas makes it clear that it's not necessary and that he absolutely should still be responsible in making his own meals occasionally or order takeout. Logan sketches out a weekly schedule to assist in everyone's expectations, and Roman lists all of the recipes he would like to try.

It's not that fair though. It's for Thomas. The others can't exactly eat.

Or....can they?

"I know you guys don't need to, but have you tried eating?" Thomas asks them. They're sitting at the dining table, a notebook between them.

"Many a time," Roman says. "Every time you eat cookies, Patton tries to steal some. And don't get me started on when you bring donuts home. Logan-"

Logan butts in, "Ahem, Thomas doesn't need that many details, thank you Roman," He fidgets with the pen in his hands, tapping it against the wired spirals of the notebook.

Roman jerks his head in Logan's direction while giving Thomas a look that screams Logan would very much like to try a donut.

Thomas holds back a grin. "But what about lately? Since you guys can touch things better now."

Logan shares a glance with Roman. "There's no need. We don't feel hunger. However..."

"Is it possible?" Roman ties into his thoughts.

"To what end? Do we have a working digestive tract? Could the food be converted to energy? Or would it phase through us at a certain point?"

"There's only one way to find out."

Thomas gets up to scrounge around his kitchen. He thinks he should really go grocery shopping soon; he's running low on quick snacks. He settles for some pretzel sticks and returns to the table.

"Who wants to go first?" he asks.

Logan gestures to the bag for Roman, showing he would rather observe. Roman plucks the pretzel bag from Thomas's hands and stares at the packaging curiously. Cautiously, he removes the clamp sealing it closed and pulls out a stick.

"Can you smell it?" Logan asks.

Roman's face pinches in minor disgust. "Why would I smell it? I'm supposed to taste it, Sub-astute Teacher."

"Smell is entwined with the ability to taste. Without it, perception of flavors would be extremely limited."

"Oh, well," Roman says and gives the stick a whiff. Then he gives it a bigger whiff.

"Anything?"

"I guess? It's different. I don't think pretzel sticks have a strong smell anyway, do they?"

"Go ahead and try it."

Roman nibbles the stick. They observe his jaw movements and listen to the muffled crunching of his teeth. He chews mechanically, much longer than anyone would need to. His brows raise just about to his hairline as he swallows.

"It's salty!" he announces excitedly. "I hate it! I can taste it! And I hate it!"

Roman tosses the rest of the stick in his mouth and plunders into the bag for more. Thomas and Logan watch incredulously as he polishes off the whole bag. Roman never stops telling them about how horrible they taste. He finishes the bag and smacks his mouth.

"Ugh, it's so dry!"

Thomas wordlessly retrieves Roman a cup of juice. Roman gleefully downs the glass in one go.

"That's so much better! What is this? It's so sweet!"

"Apple juice?"

"I love apple juice! Logan! I love apple juice!"

"Yes, I have gathered."

"I must tell all of my friends about this!"

That evening, they gather round the kitchen with everyone to taste test everything in Thomas's fridge and cabinets. If Thomas needed to go grocery shopping before, he certainly needs to after this. They have no limits to their stomach capacities. Patton eats a giant stack of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and claims he feels no fuller for the effort. Virgil scarfs down an entire tub of rocky road ice cream with such feral intensity that he's left abashed after.

"It was okay, I guess," Virgil says too nonchalantly.

"Who let this raccoon in here?" Janus comments, to which Virgil hisses.

"If we can eat things now, does that mean we'll need to shit?" Remus questions. He's found the pickle jar and is sharing with Logan. They seem to enjoy salty/sour flavors more. "Because then Virgil's gonna have the shits later."

"That was an intolerable amount of lactose," Logan agrees.

Roman whines in protest through a mouth full of pizza, "Must you speak of such crass things while we're eating?"

"It's not like we're real humans," Virgil says, but looks doubtfully at the empty ice cream container while holding his tummy.

Janus has discovered the beauty of wine and has been sipping religiously at a glass. "Real enough to eat."

"Are you feeling the effects of the alcohol?" Logan pauses to wonder.

"I don't think so, but I'm nothing if not determined."

"Spitters are quitters," Remus says, finding some kind of relevance with that train of thought to the current context. When Virgil smirks and says something about professionals gargling, Roman screeches like a banshee. Thomas thinks that is the point of Virgil's interference. He shares a fist bump with Remus.

"Anyway, back to our shit talking," Remus says peppily. Roman's face turns an impressive shade of red.

Janus snickers into his glass, "Oh I am here for shit talking. Who are we shit talking about?"

"Your mom!"

"How very original, Remus."

"Is it okay if I eat the rest of this peanut butter?" Patton asks Thomas. There's not much left in the jar anyway.

Thomas smiles. "Go for it, buddy."

Patton does a happy little shuffle dance and goes to town. The others go back to questioning if they will need to start using the bathroom now. Thomas asks what Patton thinks, since they're standing by each other and he hasn't been talking much.

Patton nods slowly, sagely. "Everybody poops."

As much as Roman is hilariously uncomfortable with the topic, everyone does share a curiosity to the limits of their corporealness. For the rest of the evening, they keep checking in with each other. "Need to poop yet?" "No, you?" "Nah, need to pee?" "Nah, but how would we know?" "It'd be instinctive." "You're instinctive." "Remus, please desist."

Thomas can confidentially say that he's never been a part of a more bizarre conversational topic.

For those at home wondering, none of them ever felt the urge to go. They are left to surmise that the food and drinks they ingest are entirely utilized with no leftover waste. Furthermore, alcohol has no affect, much to Janus's dismay. It doesn't stop him from trying.

Beyond food, Thomas tries to encourage the others to ask him for things they want. Something as simple as watching a movie is a challenge. If they sit down together to pick a movie, it always comes back to what does Thomas want to watch. And even when Thomas isn't watching TV or doing anything with his electronics, they will jump up from them as if electrocuted and ask him if he'd like the TV or computer.

Patton's the worst about it. Thomas nearly felt bad about telling him, "No, I'm good, you can keep watching whatever." It's like he can't believe he isn't monopolizing Thomas's belongings. So they get into "nice-offs" where they're trying to be courteous to each other. "No, you can." "No, you, I insist!" That sort of thing. There's an edge of panic to Patton when he does this.

If only this were as easy as handing him a stuffed bear.

After a few times, Thomas can't stand to see him this way and finally grabs the offered tv remote out of his hands. The brief relief that washes over Patton is replaced by confusion when Thomas sets the remote on the coffee table. Then confusion transforms into astonishment as Thomas grabs one of his hands in both of his.

"Patton, you're okay," Thomas tells him. "You're allowed to enjoy yourself. I don't always need the tv, and whenever I do want it, I promise I'll let you know."

Patton stares so hard at their joined hands that Thomas wonders if he can hear him. They haven't held hands since that day Patton cried. Haven't touched either. Thomas suspects...no, he knows it's a sore subject. He knows with Patton, and most of the others, maybe all of them? They've lacked human touch for so long that they don't know what to do with themselves whenever they receive it. They must crave it. Hell, Janus was brought to tears because Thomas touched his face.

It's another process though, another adjustment. It's a lot of responsibility placed on Thomas for these people he's just starting to know. He likes them, he does. He's caught off guard sometimes by how much he enjoys their company, the sparks they bring to his life as he learns more about them. It's not a bad thing by any means.

Thomas holds Patton's hand and hopes this is a good step. He caresses the top of Patton's hand with a thumb, and Patton's eyes flick, watching the movement.

"You're the priority though," Patton says softly, at a loss.

Thomas's heart breaks for them.

He leads Patton by the hand back to the couch. They sit together and Thomas gently nudges the remote into Patton's hand that he isn't holding.

"Sometimes, maybe. But right now? It's your time. What do you want to watch?"

With a subdued joy that Thomas hopes one day will have all the strength of a hurricane, Patton clicks through the apps and turns on 'Steven Universe'. Thomas sticks with him to watch. He's already seen it, but he'll watch it again any day. Plus, he doesn't want to take his hand away when Patton clutches so tightly.

They progress in paces of patience. Soon, Thomas will need to jump fully back into work now that he's recovered from his sickness. He's texted his team and he'll be meeting with them tomorrow.

The big question is, will his new roommates be able to interact with them?

"We should engage in preliminary testing," Logan suggests.

Roman cheers, "I concur! Why wait for tomorrow what you could do today?"

"Famous last words," Virgil quips.

"Then what do you suggest, Negative Nancy?"

"Why even try? If you never try, then you can never fail. If you never fail, then you won't be disappointed."

"Technically, he's not wrong," Logan admits.

"You're agreeing with him?!"

"I didn't say that. I am no defeatist. I don't fear failure. Indeed, I feel no sense of fear whatsoever."

"God I wish that were me," Thomas bemoans his introverted existence.

"How about I streak naked down the street?" Remus suggests. "That'll get some looks!"

Logan is not the only one who doesn't possess a sense of fear, apparently.

There's enough interest amongst the group to go forward with the testing today. Patton thanks Remus for his contribution but tries to let him down gently and say maybe another time. Roman supplies fanciful ideas of vigilante fighting. Even if bad guys can't see them, they can pretend Thomas has telekinesis powers and make him look cool by floating things at the enemy. Patton also thanks Roman for his contributions but tries to let him down gently as well.

"How about shopping?" Janus says. "I'm always a hoe for a shopping spree. Especially when it's someone else's money that's being spent."

"Thomas isn't some cash cow," Virgil reminds him with narrowed eyes.

"No, don't be silly, he's a cash man."

Before they can get into it, Thomas chimes in, "Sure, I can spare a bit. Where would you guys like to go?"

Predictably, Remus says a sex shop. For the first time, Thomas can kinda see how long-term exposure might render the others a little dismissive towards him. But it is a valid option! Thomas is a grown man, with grown man needs. He's just...not gonna be going to an adult store with people he just became friends with. That's like, level fifty in terms of friendship.

"How about a grocery store?" Logan says. "It would be a practical way to spend your money."

"That's his way of saying he wants more Crofters jam," Virgil translates. Logan doesn't spare him a glance and simply mutters, "Falsehood."

Thomas feels in a teasing mood, so he asks Virgil, "And what about you?"

"Me?" Virgil lifts a singular eyebrow. It's a thinner brow than Thomas's, as if he shapes them. Thomas can imagine him easily with an eyebrow piercing. It'd go great with his aesthetic.

Why is he thinking so much about Virgil's eyebrows?

Thomas inwardly shakes himself and plasters a smirk on his face. "Yeah, you. Do you want some more ice cream?"

Virgil gives a mixture of a scoff and a cough. He shoves his hands in his pockets. "Spend your money however you want, Sanders."

"And that's Virgil's way of saying yes, he would love more ice cream," Janus translates.

Patton raises a hand. "Can we get more peanut butter?"

"And pickles?" Remus asks.

"Oh, how about pizza!" Roman says.

"Sure, anything you guys want," Thomas smiles, unable to hold himself back from wanting to indulge them.

Thomas hops in his car and drives to his local Walmart. Logan rides shotgun while Roman, Remus, and Patton squish together in the backseat. It's a twelve-minute ride that the three backseat passengers insist must be enjoyed with all the enthusiasm of an eight-hour road trip. They play car games to pass the time, and Thomas plays the radio for background noise. Logan points out a traffic light in disrepair before Thomas notices and reminds him to treat the intersection as a four-way stop.

They reach Walmart and it's not as dreadfully busy as it could be, but it's still Walmart. Thomas exits the car and trudges up to the store like a man going to war.

It takes him a bit to realize that the others have suddenly gone missing. Surrounded by strangers after spending over a week at home is a bit of a slap to the senses. Thomas is more troubled with securing a shopping cart and avoiding bumping into anyone. He surveys the store and debates where to start before heading towards the very back of the grocery section, intending to work his way up.

By the time he's grabbing a pack of butter, Thomas notices the immediate quiet. There's a chill that's not coming from the cooler beside him. He cranes his neck around to look over the buzzing masses. People pass this way and that. A lady with five kids getting milk. An old man perusing the discount baked goods rack. A couple heading towards the deli counter. More and more inconsequential bodies flit across his vision. And in the middle of the aisle, as if the rest of the world falls away and his eyes are drawn to him, there stands Virgil.

He stands alone, the brightness of his purple patches standing out amongst the crowd. Calmly, he watches people pass by him. No one looks his way, not even once. A teenager passes right through him on her way to catch up with her parents. Virgil's lips twitch up and he turns to meet Thomas's gaze.

Thomas is held captive in the moment. Virgil looks at him, and there's no guessing what's on his mind. Thomas knows. He knows it in his heart.

Virgil shrugs helplessly. They gave it a shot. This changes nothing. He'll tell himself he doesn't want to be perceived anyway while ignoring that little piece inside that pleads otherwise. That piece that's been waiting for so long for someone to just look and notice and not act like he isn't there, like he doesn't exist.

It's a lonely thing to watch the world go by and be told that you can't partake.

As much as it hurts, it's okay, because Thomas at least sees him for who he is. It's enough.

Yet again, Thomas thinks they deserve so much more.

***

The ride back to his apartment is significantly less noisy. Thomas catches glimpses of Virgil and Janus in the rearview mirror sitting in the backseat, neither talking, both looking out their respective windows. They disappear once Thomas parks the car, and Patton and Logan join him while he empties the trunk of its groceries. They're also far too quiet for comfort as they help carry bags inside.

The next day rolls by, Thomas meets with his team, and Roman lingers in the background, an unseen guest. Thomas can see his wistful smile as he watches Thomas interact with his friends. There's longing there to be included. When no one's looking, Thomas offers him a wave. It's enough of an acknowledgement that Roman perks up and swings his feet a bit where he sits on a table.

The meeting goes well. They've brainstormed some future video ideas and have a shooting schedule mapped out. Best of all, no one looks at Thomas like he's a walking hazard. They seem to be relieved that he's recovered and well rested and more responsive than he's been in a long time. Thomas returns home afterwards, and life goes on.

There's not much in the way of testing discussed after that, for a while at least. The previous lack of success is disheartening, and really though, what else is there to test? They are real people to Thomas only.

And Thomas would be a liar if he doesn't admit that he occasionally speculates if this makes him clinically insane. As real as they are to him, no one else can see or interact with them. Doesn't that check the boxes on a lot of psych evaluation tests?

If it's a form of insanity, it's a relatively mild one in terms of negative impact. It could be a lot worse. He's sure Logan could grant him some neat facts to put it all in perspective. That would involve telling Logan about his concerns revolving whether they are real or not. He doesn't want him to think he's invalidating his existence.

Isn't he though? By just questioning this, isn't there a part of his mind that still can't wrap around this? What more can he do to prove to himself that they truly exist?

Without conversing to the others about it, Thomas discreetly slips out his phone and snaps a picture of Remus. He's just sitting on the living room floor, swaying back and forth absent-mindedly. You can see the corner of the entertainment center in the picture. It's not a remarkable picture by any means and doesn't have the best lighting, but Remus brings a sense of peculiarity with his dark prince outfit.

The picture is taken with none the wiser. Thomas purses his lips and stares at his phone screen. He taps his fingers on the back of the case.

Remus's figure never fades. It's definitely a picture of him. Now what does he do with it?

He can send it to someone. Just to see if they can see an image of the others. If not in person, maybe they can be viewed through technological means? But who should he send it to? Not his brothers. Or his parents. Hmm, he can't think of a friend he can send it to without garnering a series of questions for an explanation. Well, he can possibly play it off. But what if he can't?

He scrolls through his contact list before spying his godson's name. Gavin sends him random stuff all the time. Thomas can just tell him it's a meme trend or something.

Trying not to overthink it, Thomas sends the pic along with a question, What do you see in this picture?

A few very nail-biting minutes later, Gavin responds. Is that ur house?

That isn't...the worst response.

Yeah lol

Ur tv cord? Idk is something I'm missing?

Yeah, the invisible man. You can't see him?

Nah, he invisible.

Darn, I told him to turn off that setting before I took the pic. Maybe next time.

Gavin sends back a laughing emoji.

That settles that. If Gavin could see Remus, he would have said something about his outfit or ask who he is or why he's at Thomas's apartment. The kid asks a lot of questions, and to be fair, Remus is very questionable in general.

Thomas doesn't let the others know of his discovery. What they don't know can't hurt them, right?

It turns out to be truer than Thomas can imagine. Curiosity killed the cat. Ignorance is bliss. Be careful what you wish for.

While no one has spoken of the discoveries from the Walmart outing, it doesn't mean it hasn't been on their minds. In fact, Logan in particular has taken notes to record the aspects of their existence. He approaches Thomas and shows him some of his theories and hypothesis.

"I would like to attempt a new test, if you would be so inclined," Logan says, and while he holds his posture well, Thomas senses an underlying nervousness to him.

Thomas doesn't want to deny him this, not when they've struggled with learning how to reach out to him.

"What do you have in mind?" Thomas asks.

They relocate to the backyard. Everyone else joins them. They probably would have anyway, but Logan specifically requests that everyone convene together.

"Are we finally running into oncoming traffic?" Remus asks excitedly, bouncing on his heels.

"Not today, Remus. I have devised an experiment to test the boundaries of our physical attachment to Thomas. Prior to Thomas's illness, we could not stray beyond roughly eighty feet from Thomas. When arriving to this distance, we experience a tethering sensation, as if we cannot walk any further. With the increase to our corporeal prowess, I suggest we ascertain whether this distance remains or if it has increased."

"So you just want us to go for a walk?" Patton asks.

"Oh, why didn't you just say that, Isaac Nerdton?" Roman scoffs.

Logan adjusts his glasses. "Because I wanted all parties to know precisely what– okay, fine. We are going for a walk. But!" He claps his hands to accentuate his point. "This will be regulated so that we can account for all variables. I suggest we test one subject at a time to calculate if there are any differences between distance amongst us."

Thomas raises his hand and waits for Logan to call on him. "So what do I do?"

"You just stand there."

"Cool, I can do that. I'm good at standing."

"Who's gonna go first?" Virgil asks. He shifts his gaze between everyone to see if someone will volunteer.

Patton shrugs. "I could, I guess?"

"What would this prove anyway?" Janus comments, snide in the way he checks his nails through his glove. It would be a funny image if he didn't sound genuinely dismissive of the whole affair. "This won't change anything. Even if we miraculously can wander off to new horizons, Thomas is still the only person who can see us."

"We could break into people's houses and steal their stuff," Remus says.

"Let's not take other people's things," Patton says. "We wouldn't want people to come steal from Thomas, would we? It's not right."

"Morality only matters to those who have a place in society. Last I checked, we don't."

Patton deflates and looks at Janus with a pained expression. "I think it still matters how you treat people..."

"Good for you," Janus says, sickly sweet.

Virgil steps between the two of them. "Okay, what crawled in your ass and died?"

"Cynicism? Disillusionment? A reality check? Take your pick."

Virgil growls and looks at Logan. "You know what? I'll go."

"Wait, wait, let's not start things off angry," Thomas urges. Virgil has begun walking, so Thomas skitters up behind him, grasping on to his jacket. Virgil halts but doesn't turn around.

"This is merely for educational purposes. I did not expect this to warrant a strong emotional reaction."

Roman claps a hand on Logan's shoulder. "Not your fault, Specs. Someone must have pissed in Janus's cheerios this morning."

Janus crosses his arms and puts on an unaffected tone, "Do whatever you wish. Don't let me stop you."

Thomas shares a look with Logan. "I'd like to go through with the test because it's important to Logan. Whether what we discover is any different than what you guys are used to, it doesn't matter. What matters is that it's important to Logan to find out."

There's a brief softening of the eyes behind Logan's glasses. He shuffles quickly with his notebook and pen and then unceremoniously dumps them into Roman's arms.

Roman sputters, "What–?"

"I'll do it," Logan announces. "After all, this is my hypothesis. I will take the initiative and be the first to go."

Logan gestures for Thomas to step aside to the "starting point". Thomas lets go of Virgil hesitantly, but Virgil doesn't protest or turn to look. Thomas shuffles over to the side in the grass and holds still while Logan stands beside him.

"I will count my steps as I go along to measure the distance. Once I reach a point I can no longer move forward, I'll return."

"Okay, easy peasy," Thomas says with false cheer.

Janus doesn't debate any more. Patton offers no assurances. Remus doesn't interrupt. Roman holds the notebook stiffly. And Virgil's head only moves as Logan walks by him. He watches as Logan treks across the grass behind the apartment complex.

Logan keeps his head bowed, watching his steps with careful attentiveness. He crosses the road and carries on through more grass. He rapidly approaches the tree line that begins there on the other side.

"Anyone wanna make bets?" Remus asks. The suggestion falls on deaf ears, but Patton does come over to stand beside him and hold his hand. It must not be a frequent occurrence because Remus glances down at him in surprise but doesn't discourage it.

For Thomas's part, his eyes are glued to Logan's back. His form is getting smaller, more distant.

"That's more than eighty feet," Virgil murmurs, loud in the quiet. His hand scratches at his neck, and when that doesn't seem to do anything for him, he shakes out his hands. Then he shakes out his hands again.

Roman turns to gauge Virgil. He frowns at what he sees, though Thomas can't see Virgil's face from this angle. "You good, Virge?"

"I don't like this," Virgil admits. His foot begins tapping a mad dance into the ground.

"I don't either," Patton drones, morose. Perhaps he's sensitive from Janus's remarks.

Logan treads into the woods. They can see his black polo and blue jeans through the spindly tree trunks. At first, he's there, but quickly he's swallowed into the vegetation.

Virgil runs his fingers through his hair and blows out a stream of air. "What if he gets lost?"

Roman laughs, "Get lost? He's going in a straight line, Virge."

"What if something happens to him? What if– what if– I don't like this."

"I thought you were on board with this."

Virgil doesn't answer. He starts pacing back and forth, and Thomas can see his expression now in his peripheral. His brows are knotted, eyes too wide. His pacing becomes erratic.

"Hey, hey, don't do that. You're just gonna work yourself up," Roman calls to him, coming over to stop him. Virgil tries to walk around him, but Roman blocks his path.

"Why didn't one of us go with him? We should have gone with him!"

"Virgil, please, it'll be alright. Pat, may I have an emergency dose of positivity over here?"

"I don't like this," Patton repeats, and his tone is even more dejected. He holds onto Remus's arm with both hands. He leans into him, shaking at the arm insistently. "I don't like this."

"...Patton?" Remus hums in confusion. He looks around to the others to see if they're witnessing how close to crying Patton seems, but Thomas's eyes can't leave the tree line where Logan vanished.

"We have to go get him. Please, we have to–"

"Stormcloud, please," Roman soothes, and Virgil clings to the front of his tunic like a drowning man. His breaths are coming shorter and shorter, his words jumbling amongst the gasps. Roman stands there, dumbfounded. "Uh, Remus?"

"Kinda busy with Pat," Remus says, watching as Patton unravels. Tears cascade down his face and the first whimper of a sob comes out. "Okay, what the fuck is going on?"

"He's gonna die, he's gonna die-" Virgil rants over and over and he launches into a full-blown panic attack. "Janus, Janus, help!"

"Please!" Patton wails and falls to his knees. Remus barely manages to catch him and guide him down safely.

Thomas's feet move without intention. He takes one heavy step, then another, movements sluggish and wooden.

Janus is there suddenly, hand at his elbow to stop his forward momentum. Thomas is barely conscious of the peering eyes, one human and one snake. Janus glances between a hysterical Virgil and a sobbing Patton and turns to Thomas.

"Thomas, can you hear me?" he asks.

Thomas can, but it's like he's under water. He tries to step forward again, but Janus won't let him. Thomas feels the resistance as if steel cables are latching onto him with grappling hooks. Serrated edges sink into his flesh. No, no, it's not from outside. It's inside. There's a pull inside him, and it tugs.

"Janus!" Virgil begs.

"Please!" Patton cries.

"What the hell is wrong with them?!"

"I don't know! It's not like this has ever happened before!"

"Janus, what is Thomas doing?"

The words drift over Thomas, like seafoam floating by in a vast sea. There are more important matters to attend, like how he can't see Logan. If Logan is gone, then that means–

"Thomas, listen to me," someone says, and there are hands cupping his face. Thomas can't feel them, yet he knows they're there. "You have to shut this down. You have to stop this. Now."

But Logan is gone. He's gone, and Thomas is left bereft without him. The earth beneath his feet tremors, and the sky splits open in a downpour. The sun will fall and set the world ablaze. And Thomas feels the ache building up in his chest with mind-numbing certainty.

"Thomas!" the voice yells at him, hands shaking him. Thomas looks up into a face that he knows. He knows that face. He knows, he knows, he knows. How could he not? That's why it's so familiar. Why couldn't he see it before?

"I'm sorry," Thomas whispers.

His chest splinters in agony. Fear bleeds out abundant. Grief ravages his heart.

Thomas falls to the ground screaming.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #logan sanders #writing #fanfiction #me myself and these guys who kinda look like me #angst #hurt/comfort #panic attacks #comedy #humor #everyone needs a hug

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skymaiden32 · 1 year

Text

Bad News

AO3 link here

Fandom: Thunderbirds, Stingray

Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou @amistrio @uniwolfcorn (Please ask if you would like to be updated when I update or post new stories.)

Gordon gets a call from Marineville.

Set in the Mariana Trench-verse.

Continuity: TOS

------

Gordon had been enjoying the peace and quiet, floating along the pool’s surface, savouring the moment. And then all hell had broken loose…

“Alan Shepard Tracy, you get back here right now!”

The youngest Tracy brother’s impish grin was audible as he taunted his unfortunate target. “You’ll have to catch me first, Virg!”

A third voice joined the fray, calmly attempting to quell the flames of the brewing argument. “Alright fellas, that’s enough.”

Virgil growled lowly. “Easy for you to say, Scott. It’s not your Thunderbird that has ‘Thunderbird 3 rules, Thunderbird 2 drools’ written all over it!” The silence was deafening. “In bright pink paint!” Okay, even Gordon had to admit that was going a little too far.

“He did what?!” …And big brother’s calm was gone. Gordon didn’t need to look up to picture the look on Scott’s face. He’d been on the receiving end of what they all liked to call The Stare more than anyone else. And he certainly didn’t envy Alan right now.

The aquanaut whistled, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “You want my opinion?” He took their silence as a yes. “Make him clean it up, then ground him for a month.” He moved off of his back, and swam towards his brothers, stretching as he did so.

“I’m not a little kid anymore!” Alan protested.

Virgil huffed, still a little annoyed with the prank, but at least Gordon could hear the amusement in his voice. “Gordon probably means grounding as in no missions, not staying in your room.”

Alan grumbled. “Same thing to us, isn’t it?”

“Should’ve thought of that before doing it then.” Scott folded his arms. “You’ll definitely be cleaning that up, immediately.” Alan sighed, accepting his fate. “I’m not going to ground you, since I have to stay to manage the island while Dad’s away and someone has to fly Thunderbird 1. Wait a few hours though and you’ll have a fresh job lined up.”

Their little brother slumped over, trudging over to the scene of the crime. “I better get to it, then…”

“Yeah, you better.” Virgil’s voice followed him. “You never know when we’ll be needed on call!”

“Speaking of Dad,” Gordon hauled himself out of the pool, and grabbed the towel he’d set aside earlier to dry himself off, “what’s the latest from Tracy HQ?” Their father had been called into an urgent meeting with Tracy Industries’ Board of Directors earlier that week, and from what they’d heard from him so far, it was a real doozy.

Scott sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Nothing good, I can tell you that…”

Virgil whistled lowly. “That bad, huh?”

“Yep.”

“How long do you reckon he’ll be?” Gordon asked.

“I’m not really sure.” Their eldest brother shrugged. “The end of the week at the very least…”

Gordon ran a hand through his wet hair. “Well, I hope he gets back soon.” He started, throwing a cheeky smile in Virgil’s direction. “Too much stress is bad for you. Ages you by about a century.” Virgil smirked, catching on. “Ooo,” Gordon made a show of it, pointing at a random spot on Scott’s head, “is that a new grey hair?”

Virgil rubbed his chin. “You know, I think it might be, Gordon.” He hummed. “Either that or it’s an old one and big brother’s hair dye isn’t working anymore.”

“Haha. Very funny.” Scott deadpanned. “I’ll have you know that this,” he pointed to his hair, “is all natural.”

Gordon leaned in. “Are you sure?” He stage-whispered. “You are getting very old, Scooter. We’re just looking out for you…” He put on his best innocent face.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I saw some crow’s feet the other day.” Virgil added.

“Alright fellas, cut it out, will you?” Scott rolled his eyes, smiling fondly as his brothers snickered. Back in the lounge, the phone rang loudly. “I’d better get that. Might be Dad…”

They watched as their brother disappeared back inside the house. Virgil threw a grateful glance in Gordon’s direction. “Thanks Gords. I needed that laugh, even if it’s at Scott’s expense.”

“At least Scott’s a good sport about it. We wouldn’t dare make those jokes if it genuinely upset him.” Gordon chuckled, and Virgil nodded in agreement before the aquanaut changed the subject. “Don’t want to strangle Alan anymore?”

“Oh no, I’m still gonna kill him.” The pilot smirked. “My improved mood just means he has more time to plan his escape route.”

“It better be a good one then.”

“Gordon!” Scott’s voice drifted out towards them from the house. “It’s for you!”

Virgil followed his brother upstairs and into the lounge, where Scott was waiting with the video caller on. “Is it Dad?”

Scott shook his head, looking at Gordon. Based on the look on his face, they could tell it was pretty serious. “WASP business…”

Gordon quickly made his way over to where the grim face of his old Commander sat. “Commander Shore.” He nodded respectfully, suddenly very aware of his lack of clothes. “What can I do for you?”

Shore took one look at Gordon before speaking. “I’m going to assume that you just went swimming, Lieutenant Tracy.” Gordon nodded. “Then I’ll say no more about that.” He cleared his throat. “I called you to give you an update, and to make you an offer.”

The aquanaut frowned. “It must be pretty big, if you’re calling someone who left the WASPs a long time ago.”

“I realise this must be confusing, Tracy. But in truth, we’re in a tight spot.” Gordon gestured for him to continue, and Shore sighed. “Stingray is short a crew member.” Gordon’s eyes widened. “We don’t know for how long, quite possibly a good while.”

“Who? And how?” Thunderbird 4’s pilot asked, immediately worried for his old friends. He needed to know the full story.

Shore gave him an apologetic look. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you the full story, Tracy. Former WASP or not, you no longer have Marineville clearance.”

“At least give me something, Commander.” Gordon pleaded. “They’re my friends. I need to know if they’re okay.” Out of the corner of his eye, the aquanaut saw his older brothers inching closer, ready to offer comfort in any way they could. Gordon found himself feeling incredibly grateful for it. The Commander just shook his head. Gordon sighed, changing the subject. “You mentioned an offer?”

Shore seemed thankful for the change in topic. “As you know, you served temporarily on Stingray under Captain Holden before Lieutenant Griffiths took over hydrophones.” Gordon nodded. “I’m inviting you to return to active service as a temporary replacement to fill the position on Stingray’s crew. I would be able to give you the full story then. Of course, you don’t have to accept, and I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to leave Thunderbird 4 without a pilot, but…”

“Thunderbird 4?” Gordon pushed his astonishment that Shore knew the truth far beneath the surface, attempting to play it off as a case of mistaken identity. In the background, Scott and Virgil looked as if they’d seen a ghost. “With all due respect sir, you must be mistaken. How could I possibly be an International Rescue operative?”

“Quite easily, I think you’ll find.” Shore smiled. “The stunts I’ve heard Thunderbird 4 pull off, well, there’s a few men who are capable of them, but there’s only three aquanauts I can think of who would actually try, one of them works for me, another I don’t know the location of. The third one is you.” Gordon could say nothing to change the older man’s mind. The Commander grinned in triumph, knowing he was correct. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me…” He didn’t dare mention that he’d guessed it was his old friend Jeff who was running the whole outfit, thus making International Rescue a family affair.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Gordon muttered, and frowned in thought. “Well, for that reason, Commander, I’m afraid I’ll have to reject your offer to rejoin the Stingray crew. As much as I enjoyed my life at WASP, it’s time for me to stay close to my family…”

Commander Shore smiled. “Of course, I understand. Before I let you go though, I will give you some advice…” Gordon raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “Be careful who you trust, Gordon Tracy. Even our closest friends can cut us deeply. And the funny thing about betrayal is that it never comes from an enemy…” He moved to sign off. “I wish you luck, and good day.”

Gordon was faced with a black screen, playing the Commander’s last words to him over and over again in his head. The knowledge that his old Commander knew he was an International Rescue operative was the least of his worries. Betrayal never comes from an enemy… Shore had told him the truth of what had happened all this time. A member of the Stingray crew had gone rogue.

He was barely aware of what was going on around him. His brother's voices were right next to him, asking if he was okay and begging him to say something, but all he heard were whispers. He could see Virgil in front of him, shaking him gently, but he seemed so far away. He felt Scott wrap an arm around him in a sideways hug, slowly leading him elsewhere, but felt nothing. He just felt… numb.

The next time he was aware of anything, he was sitting on a flat rock, looking out towards his favourite place, the ocean, next to his favourite people in the whole world. He lifted his head off of Scott’s shoulder, stretching out his tired limbs, and just sat with his brothers, watching the sun go down on the horizon.

Alan came down from the house with an ice cold glass of water, which Gordon took gratefully. The youngest Tracy sat between Gordon and Virgil, loath to get between Smotherhen and his current concern. The four of them just sat in silence, worries and feuds of the day put aside temporarily...

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds 1965 #thunderbirds fanfiction #stingray 1964 #stingray fanfiction #thunderfam #gordon tracy #alan tracy #virgil tracy #scott tracy #commander sam shore #sky writes stuff

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astranite · 1 year

Text

Bruised

Earth and Sky! Hurt/comfort. Some angsting then hugs. Featuring Scott and his guilt, and Virgil being a protective brother.

“Virgil is covered in bruises from a rescue gone wrong, but Scott has him far more worried.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48794371

-----

Virgil felt Scott’s eyes on him from the doorway. He kept his movements steady, avoiding twisting his torso as he reached for the clean pyjama shirt lying on his bed. Soft cotton bunched in his hands, then he pulled it over his head, timed to a careful rhythm in his mind. He winced as the action tugged at his already aching muscles. He’d be feeling this for days.

Virgil turned to face Scott. The hall light silhouetted his brother’s lean figure, his brows throwing dark shadows across his face. He leant on the door frame, casually, as if he just happened to find himself nearby. Virgil knew Scott far too well to fall for that. After what happened today there wasn’t going to be anything Scott was leaving to chance.

His brows threw dark shadows across his face. Scott flinched when Virgil called his name and abruptly straightened, caught out staring. Wasn’t like Virgil cared about that.

He cared more about the way Scott’s expression crumpled for the briefest second before he hitched a smile back on his face.

“I just wanted to—“ Scott trailed off, waving the tea towel wrapped ice pack clutched in his hand.

“Thanks,” Virgil smiled and accepted it, with indents left from Scott’s fingers digging into the gel. It didn’t matter he’d already gotten one for himself, he wasn’t going to pry apart Scott’s flimsy excuse to stay close.

The cold seeped into Virgil’s shoulder, soothing achy muscles where he pressed the pack against the worst of his injuries.

“Your back,” Scott began.

Virgil huffed and rolled his eyes, hoping to lighten the mood. “It’s not pretty, I noticed.”

Mottled bruises covered nearly every centimetre of his skin. Reds, blues, purples, an artist’s palette of livid blotches. In a few days they’d bloom to their full rainbow glory.

The places where the exo-suit had dug in upon the impact were black. Scott would know exactly the pattern they marked out, and exactly the moment of rescue that caused them.

Because he’d been right there with Virgil. A collapsing skyscraper, its foundations unmoored by an earthquake. Concrete dust hanging thick in the air, obscuring their vision. The screech made by the falling steel girder cutting through it. Scott had been right underneath. A split second decision had Virgil bodily shoving him out of the way. No matter how long he had to think about it, he never would have made another choice.

The steel landed at the same moment Scott did, sprawled across the ground. Blue eyes had widened as Virgil was crushed beneath the rubble.

But long story short, Virgil was fine. Banged up and bruised, sure, but fine. He’d had the exo-suit. He’d lifted the girder off himself with a grunt of effort, and longed for a hot shower on the flight home. They’d carried on the rescue.

Scott’s hand landing on his shoulder was predictable, no matter how much Scott liked to think of himself as anything but. Virgil would’ve laughed if not for the pain in his ribs. As it was, he gasped, because Scott had accidentally poked at one of the worst patches, and damn that hurt. Hopefully Scott wouldn’t have heard his sharp intake of breath, but that was as likely as Two beating One in a speed race.

Scott snatched his hand away from Virgil as if he’d been burnt. He held his arms up in surrender, a stricken look crossing his face.

“Sorry Virge. I didn’t mean— I’m really sorry. You didn’t say they were so—“ Scott spoke rapid fire.

“It’s fine, Scooter. I’m alright.” Virgil hurried to calm him before the guilt set in. Over an accident, once again for something that wasn’t Scott’s fault.

“They’re just bruises,” he reassured, “They look far worse than they are.”

Scott’s eyes met Virgil’s before they slipped away, tracing where the bruises covered Virgil’s body, visible at his neck and disappearing beneath his T-shirt.

Scott wore that brittle smile Virgil hated. He hated it because Scott was upset, and he hated it because it meant Scott felt like he couldn’t show it. As if by feeling, he was showing weakness. As if somehow he’d be letting them down.

Virgil moved towards Scott carefully, into arm’s reach of his biggest brother.

He was just close enough to hear Scott whisper, “I wish I could take the world off your shoulders.”

How many times had Virgil wanted to tell Scott the exact same thing? Over and over, the words had been on the tip of his tongue, after patching Scott up rescue after rescue when he leapt in head first, without a care what happened to himself. After finding Scott dead asleep at dad’s desk, surrounded by half-completed reports, too many times to count. After watching how he crumbled the moment he thought no one could see him.

Guilt welled up in sky blue eyes as Scott hesitantly reached out to Virgil. He brushed his fingers over Virgil’s elbow, touching Virgil like he was fragile, when maybe Scott was.

Virgil closed the distance between them, pulling Scott into a hug.

“You can’t take the world off my shoulders,” He said softly. Because the world was already resting on Scott’s. “And I wouldn't want you to. I don't like seeing you hurting either.”

Maybe one day Scott would get it through his thick skull that Virgil didn’t want him to throw himself into unnecessary danger at every turn.

Scott clung to him, still careful, ever so careful, of Virgil’s bruises. It was only those who didn’t know him well enough who called Scott reckless when it came to his brothers.

Virgil wrapped his arms around Scott’s waist, then smushed his face into the crook of Scott’s neck. He couldn’t bear the way Scott tried to hold himself apart from everyone when he was hurting too.

When he breathed in, Virgil could smell the soap they had in the locker room showers and an edge of distinct after shave that meant Scott had nicked his bottle once again. He couldn’t be mad about it right now, not while he was pretending not to notice Scott trembling.

Very few things scared Scott, but the thought of one of his brothers getting hurt had him terrified. Today he’d seen a building fall on top of Virgil. How he didn’t get that he did the same thing to everyone else when he pulled another stupid stunt.

Virgil ran a hand up and down Scott’s back, just hanging onto him. Scott needed the reassurance that Virgil was alright. It had taken years for Virgil to figure out a lot of Scott attempting to smother his younger brothers was his way of keeping them close. Of hiding his clinginess and saving face.

Of course Scott would need to be near after what had happened today.

But Scott tensed, as if steeling himself, then pulled away. Always afraid of taking too much, of leaning on anyone too heavily, when he would give everything for them. Virgil missed Scott immediately, the warmth and the feeling of his big brother safe in his arms.

Scott’s jaw was set, chin stubbornly, defiantly raised. Virgil could still tell his hands were shaking in spite of how they were curled into fists.

“I should let you get to sleep,” Scott said abruptly, “G’night.”

It was a drunken Scott who had confessed to Virgil years ago that he thought if he hung on to his brothers too tightly, he’d never let go at all.

Scott turned to walk back out the door. Virgil grabbed his hand to stop him, curling his own broad fingers around Scott’s slender ones, gripping hard.

“Scotty, just stay,” Virgil appealed.

Scott jerked to a halt.

If Virgil let him go, Scott would sit in his room and stew in his guilt. For an unavoidable accident during a rescue, for a choice Virgil had made, for once again nothing that Scott had even remotely failed at. But he was hurting over it and Virgil didn’t want him to be alone right now.

Beneath Virgil’s fingers, Scott’s pulse thrummed far too rapidly, well above his resting rate. Scott hesitated.

“I’m here,” Virgil said simply.

Scott shoulders slumped in exhaustion, showing relief through the cracks of Scott’s Commander facade. He relented, stepping back towards Virgil.

Virgil crossed the room to sink down on his bed, dragging Scott with him. When Scott perched on the edge, Virgil patted the mattress beside him firmly. Usually Scott would be the first take an opportunity to cuddle, but today Scooter was clearly intending to continue being a self sacrificing idiot.

Time to bring out the big guns then. Virgil opened his arms with his best pleading little brother expression. “Scotty, I need a hug.”

Sure enough, Scott was right there by his side in seconds. Gordon wasn't the first Tracy to perfect the big brown sad eyes look, or put it to good use. Virgil’s amusement at the expression’s effectiveness was overshadowed because the only reason he was using it currently was Scott’s inability to ask for anything for himself.

Scott made to rest his head on Virgil’s shoulder like he normally would after tiring missions, but he paused. “Your bruises—”

“That side’s good. You won’t hurt me,” Virgil reassured.

Scott’s blue eyes flicked to Virgil’s own, assessing whether he was telling the truth. Always worried about his brothers.

Something shifted though, then Scott leant against Virgil, head on his shoulder like it should be.

Virgil shuffled to make their position easier on Scott’s neck, and took the opportunity to sling his legs over Scott’s lap, to keep him there in case he suddenly got any wild ideas about moving.

Finally, finally, Scott cracked a smile at that.

Summoning a hologram from the wall, Virgil brought up his digital drawing programme for something to keep him occupied. He’d rather the texture of real pencil against paper, but his sketchbook was across the room, and no way he was going anywhere right now. Even a stylus, he knew he’d left one around here somewhere from drawing on his tablet this morning, but he’d have to dig through his blankets to find it.

Scott watched on as Virgil dragged his fingers through the air, leaving streaks of light mapping out the familiar lines of Thunderbird Two. A rough sketch, as if looking up at his ‘bird from the hangar floor. With the hundreds of times Virgil had drawn, painted, even attempted to sculpt Two, it was easy to depict her from memory.

Comforting and familiar, just as much as being tangled up with Scott was, him looking on as the drawing formed. They’d done this since they were both kids; Grandma said that curling up with Virgil while he drew was one of the few times Scott would sit still.

By the time Virgil moved onto sketching One, Scott’s eyes were shut, his breathing deep and even, resting heavily on Virgil. He’d only blocked out the basic form of the rocket-like craft, before he flicked the drawing and hologram away to a save file.

Virgil carded his hand through Scott’s hair, gently tugging through the loose curls. The messy brown strands fell over Scott’s forehead in an unusual sight, meaning he’d come straight to Virgil after showering, instead of taking the time to gel it into submission.

Rarely was Scott not one hundred percent put together, forcing himself into a box of who he thought he should be that reminded Virgil too much of military spit and polish.

Scott leant into his touch as Virgil’s fingertips brushed over temples.

Scott was an infamously light sleeper, always ready to leap up at the slightest sign of anything, unlike Virgil who could only be roused by the emergency callout klaxon or the smell of freshly brewed coffee. The small movements told him Scott was pretending to be asleep. Virgil didn’t call him on it, just gave his brother all the comfort and affection he could while Scott would accept it.

He pressed a kiss to Scott’s forehead, then rested his own head on Scott’s, cheek against soft hair. The steady breaths at his neck let him know Scott probably would be asleep soon.

Virgil’s body still ached, but he was okay. He had his big brother here with him, and he knew all of the others were safe and sound on the island and above it. Virgil let his eyelids slip shut, holding Scott close.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderfam #virgil tracy #scott tracy #earth and sky #AstraWrite

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wolfprincesszola · 1 month

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Echoes of 50 Chapter 9

As always, check the TWs and CWs in the masterlist. Logan reading the Communist Manifesto as a coping mechanism has to be one of my funniest character headcanons I've had about him. And again, the platonic Analogical takes my heart. Enjoy <3. ——————– Now Playing: I Knew You Once by Hollie Allen

<Previous Chapter> <Next Chapter> ——————–

It had been three days, four hours, fifteen minutes, and seven seconds since Logan had last talked to Patton. Since their last fight. Since Patton had walked out of the apartment with no answer.

After Roman and Virgil had walked back to Logan’s apartment, Logan had gotten a lot of stern yelling from Virgil for leaving them behind, but upon seeing Logan as a wreck, they both let up. Instead, they let him be. From what Logan had heard from Virgil, no one had contact with Patton since their fight. No one except Roman.

Logan felt hopeless for once in his life. He loved Patton, so much so that he was willing to change to express himself more. Patton clearly did too. There should be no reason that they were in the situation they were in now, but there was always something else underlying. Because of that, Logan stopped looking too much into anything. He repeated the same mundane schedule he used to repeat before he met Patton. Sleep. Coffee. Work. Cook. Prepare for tomorrow. Repeat. Logan began sleeping for longer times too. Logan stopped researching and instead, turned to reading books in his spare time. He read the Communist Manifesto and the Declaration of Independence 5 times within the same week. His condition had gotten so bad that one day, Virgil dragged Logan out of the apartment only to plop him down at Roman’s apartment.

“Fix him. Now.” Virgil demanded his boyfriend.

“How am I supposed to fix Mr. Info Dump here?” Roman scoffed, “I don’t even know what’s going on with him!”

“Exactly! Fix him.” Virgil sputtered out, staring at Logan. “You’re the only one that has contact with Pat.”

“He’s just as bad as Logan! How am I supposed to fix Logan when I can’t even fix our dear Pop?” Roman huffed as he stared at Logan.

“I can hear you two, you know.” Logan rolled his eyes, “And for your information, I am perfectly fine.”

“Are you reading the Communist Manifesto for the sixth time this week?”

“Seventh, thank you very much.”

“Good god.” Roman stared in horror, “At least Pat’s coping through stress-eating ice cream. This seems unusually worse.”

“It is.” Virgil deadpanned, “Did you two break up or something?”

“I assumed we were in a fight, but considering the fact that Patton is not reaching out to me, nor is he reaching out to anyone, I guess you could assume that much. Maybe there is some truth to it.”

“But why? You two love each other!” Roman gasped, “I told Vir that if you two had split up that I’d never believe in true love again.” “Do not be so dramatic, Prince. We will both move on from this.” Logan rolled his eyes.

“Are you two cursed to be Mia and Sebastian? Summer and Tom?” Roman lamented.

“Must you be so theatrical, Roman?” Logan sighed, “I have already reported that I am fine.”

“Are you though? Are you?” Virgil began to observe Logan before shrugging, “Yeah, I’ve got nothing. Ro, call your brother. He sees L during work. Maybe he’s different there.”

“I can still hear you two and no, Virge, I’m fine during work. I have always kept my personal and work life separate. You know that about me.”

“Let’s leave that up to Remus, shall we?” Virgil narrowed his eyes at his best friend.

Logan sighed as he let the couple do whatever they wished. He just continued to read. Remus and Janus came to Roman’s apartment not too long after.

“Now why have you called us up, Roman?” Janus sighed. Outside of work, he was different. He didn’t have his gloves on like he normally did and preferred to wear a more comfortable outfit than a suit.

“I didn’t ask for you! I asked for Remus.” Roman scoffed.

“Do you really want Remus’ help?” Janus raised an eyebrow at his husband, who was currently trying to hang upside down on the fire escape.

“Good point.” Virgil remarked before pointing to Logan reading in the corner, “Fix him.”

“Goodness gracious.” Janus sighed as he turned to see Logan, “Are you reading the Communist Manifesto again? Do you not find joy in other books? Any other book?”

“I simply have not bought any new ones yet.”

“What an awful coping mechanism.” Janus rolled his eyes as he grabbed a book from Roman’s bookshelf and placed it in Logan’s hands in place of the Communist Manifesto. “Read that instead.”

“A picture book?” Logan scoffed, “I am not 5.”

“You are also not a communist.” Janus pointed out, “Is this about the fact that he has yet to reveal the information needed about his boyfriend to me?”

“What information?” Roman raised an eyebrow.

“Of course you haven’t told that idiot.” Janus groaned, turning to Virgil, “I assume you know.”

“Patton has to be Patient 50.”

“He’s not sure about the evidence leading up to it.” Virgil stared at Logan before continuing, “But I don’t think it’s too important.”

“Of course it’s important! Have you seen the news about the convention?”

“With the mysterious sickness that took the Medeis by storm for a day? Of course I have.”

“Medeis said that there were ringing in their ears and that they all wanted to go to the same place. There was nothing shown besides the fact that some Medeis were shown to temporarily have no powers.”

“I am betting Logan knows more than he lets on about what happened. He’s just staying silent.”

Logan didn’t say anything to that, but he could tell that Janus was already reading him.

“Lie of omission.”

“Virgil, would you mind being a dear and staying here with Logan for me? I need to talk to Roman and Remus in the hallways.”

“I need to tell Roman about the research and get him on board. If I can get him to get the door open with Patton, I might be able to convince Patton to tell us the truth. Maybe that’ll fix Logan too, with whatever fight he’s having with the man.”

“Sure. Whatever.” Virgil rolled his eyes, “Just come back soon, okay?”

“No promises.” Janus sang as he walked out of the room. Roman and Remus followed suit, though Roman looked confused to say the least.

“You know what Janus is about to do, huh?’

“Not fully. They’re going to see Patton though.” Logan murmured as he glanced around for another sufficient book. Logan had been done with the picture book for a couple of minutes now and Janus had unfortunately taken the manifesto with him.

“I see.”

“How is he actually doing?”

Logan sighed as he realized that Roman didn’t read enough books for Logan to pick one that was even mildly interesting to read. He leaned back on the sofa he was sitting at and turned to Virgil, “I’m okay, Virge. Seriously.”

“I know, but you always say that.”

“I mean it this time, Virgil. Patton’s going through something right now and I can’t be there to help him through it. I told him I loved him. Maybe I scared him off, or maybe he’s scared of showing that back to me. I don’t believe we’ve broken up yet. I think he just needs some time to process what happened at the convention.”

“What happened at the convention?”

“I got confirmation that he is in fact Patient 50, though I have no idea what correlation he really has to the weapon. We ran into the man in the orange suit once more. His name is Phobus Graves.”

“Phobus?”

“Yes, like the god of fear and terror. At least the Latin spelling of the god. I guess it’s quite fitting considering how terrified Patton had been of him.”

“I feel like we should have seen it.”

“How could you? We were in a time manipulation void. Of course you wouldn’t have seen it.”

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner? Or at least me? I’m your best friend.”

“Because I wasn’t sure what to make of it.” Logan admitted, “To be honest, I’m not sure what to make of it now. I was really scared.”

“You? Scared?” Virgil raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t know you could feel, let alone feel scared.”

Logan rolled his eyes, “I lost my powers for a bit too. It ripped away a part of me.”

“Well, I’d assume so, considering the magic is literally within your blood.”

“Yeah.” Logan cleared his throat, “I just think Patton needs some time.”

“How much though? I hate seeing you like this.”

“Well, you are my best friend. It’s only natural to feel that way about someone you care about, especially platonically. But as for a timeframe? I’m not sure. I’m not even sure if Patton wants to bother me again.”

“I think you just need to wait and see, even if it’s really hard now. He loves you.”

“I know.”

“Then believe in that love, dumbass.” Virgil snorted, “Now come on. What’s another way we can get you to cope besides reading another dumb book for the umpteenth time?”

“Books are far from dumb!” Logan scoffed.

“Oh, sorry, forgive me.” Virgil mocked, “Come on, L, let’s do something.”

“I’d really like to see the jellyfish.”

“Let’s go then.” Virgil stood up, grabbing the keys to Roman’s apartment. He dragged Logan all the way to the aquarium until they had reached the jellyfish exhibit. Once they were there, Logan sighed as he stared at the jellyfish moving around.

“Thanks, Virge.”

“Don’t even mention it.” Virgil grinned as he nudged Logan, “That’s what best friends are for, right?”

“Yeah.” Logan let out a small laugh. “You’re right.”

He leaned his head against Virgil’s shoulder as they began to watch the jellyfish swim.

#wolfprincesszola #echoes of 50 #chapter 9 #logan sanders #tss bb #tss big bang 2024 #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #demus #prinxiety #logicality #platonic analogical

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calethelettuce · 1 year

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SaSi Prinxiety Week 3/7: Console Conundrums

Prompt: Arcade

Tags: @prinxietyweek

Synopsis: Roman and Virgil head to the newly built arcade in The Imagination on a date. Unbeknownst to them, Remus paid the area a little visit. The two set off to clean up (but not really) Forbidden Creativity's mess (and maybe see if they can play a game of Pacman together after).

Characters: Remus, Roman, Virgil

Relationships: Romantic Prinxiety

TW: Swearing, Remus existing

Virgil’s usual routine of sleeping until 3PM was interrupted by an awfully obnoxious knock at his door. He ignored it the first time, burrowing farther into his blanket fortress. As the annoying noise continued, this time faster and much louder, he heard someone call to him from outside.

“Virgil! My dark and stormy knight, it’s time to wake up!”

Virgil groaned. It was only 11! Far too early. “Screw off, Princey! Come back in four hours!”

“No sir! You, my lovely emo, have been requested!”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Whoever it is can wait!”

He heard footsteps while he and Roman stood there, yelling at each other through the door. He heard Roman mutter an apology to someone, before he continued, saying, “As your boyfriend, I am requesting access by knocking, however asserting my authority by coming in anyway!”

Virgil put a pillow over his head and screamed into a second one as Roman pulled open the door.

“Go away already!”

Roman sat down at the foot of Virgil’s bed, crossing his legs. “Too much extra work.”

“What the hell do you want, Princey?” Virgil eventually picked up his head, putting the pillow back into his spot as he partially sat up, hair even messier than normal. “You’re kinda interrupting me.”

Roman beamed at him, cupping the purple-clad side’s cheek with a hand. “You’re adorable when you’re mad at me.” He teased, winking, “But I’m here to invite you to something!”

Virgil gave him the most annoyed expression he could muster at the time. “Gee, wonderful. I’ll do it later.” He flopped back down, throwing a blanket over his head.

Roman laughed at the action, moving closer. “Come on, Virge, please?”

Virgil kicked him in the side.

“Ow! What the heck?!”

Virgil stifled a giggle. “Deserved.”

“Yes, but OW!”

Virgil was not happy to be awake. Roman led him down the sidewalk of their neighborhood in The Imagination, the prince talking excitedly about a new project he had just finished.

“I think you’ll like it! It has that one game where you have to cross the street!”

Virgil gave him a look. “It’s literally called Crossy Road, genius. Even Logan, who probably has never even touched a mobile game, knows that.”

“Whatever, it’s still there!”

“Yeah, but do you have DDR?”

“Of course I do! Patton and Janus requested it!”

“Project Diva?”

Roman paused. “Is that the Miku game?”

“No shit.”

“Uh…” he paused, snapping his fingers. A small spark emitted from his fingers. “Yes! It is most definitely there!”

"I'm gonna pretend like I didn't just watch you summon it." Virgil shoved his hands in his pockets, walking next to Roman. "I'm gonna kick your ass at Pacman though."

"I didn't take you for a gaming type," Roman mentioned, placing an arm around Virgil's shoulders, "I thought you were more of a .. well-"

"Someone who doesn't do much?" Virgil finished his sentence for him. "Yeah, I know. I like horror games the most."

"It matches your dark and dreary soul!"

As the sides talked, they neared the small, retro-style building. A large, neon sign out front read "Pixel Palace". Virgil wasn't surprised at the name.

"Something doesn't look right." Roman jogged over to the door, inspecting it. "Somebody was here."

Virgil peered in through the windows and curtains, squinting and trying to see as best he could. He certainly could sense something in there, but what? "Didn't you have the doors locked?" he questioned, tapping at the glass, "Who could have gotten in?"

"...well-"

Virgil turned to face the Prince. "So you're telling me that you didn't lock the doors?"

"It's an arcade! I shouldn't need to lock the doors! The only person I wouldn't trust is-" Roman stopped, thinking. "Remus."

Virgil raised his eyebrows. "Let's go in and get that idiot out of here then."

Roman pulled open the door, shouting, "I swear to god, Remus, if you're in here without permission I'm gonna fight you and win!"

A loud, annoying cackle came from the corner near a large claw machine.

Shattered glass and broken wires littered the entrance. The shards crunched under their shoes as they entered.

“I’m gonna kill him- REMUS!”

Virgil pulled his hood up, splitting up from Roman as he walked the opposite way. He wandered through the rows of broken arcade cabinets, noticing only one machine still working: The Project Diva Future Tone machine. He silently celebrated, opting to sit by it and watch the loading screen. He got bored within a few seconds and headed to the back wall to view the claw machines.

Most of them looked intact enough to use, he decided.

There were only a couple of them, most filled with random plushies, though one caught his eye. It was full of plushies of the sides themselves, even including Janus and Remus. He raised an eyebrow, heading toward it. This one was left untouched, the glass shiny a fingerprint-less.

“Weird.” He summoned a quarter, slotting it into the machine. The timer lit up, signaling the start. He played that machine for a while, trying to grab the biggest plushie (which happened to be a Roman plushie, though that didn’t surprise him much). He could hear the twins bickering behind him, but he kept feeding quarters into the machine as he kept going.

$6.25 later, he managed to get a good grab with the claw, picking up plushie Roman by the torso. The claw dropped the plush into the receiver tunnel. Virgil reached down as pulled the plushie up, admiring the seam work and the little details on the outfit. He hugged it to his chest, turned around, and went to find Roman.

By the sound of the shouting match and the evil cackling from Remus, he assumed they were by the prize counter.

“I banned you last week, you trashy fiend!”

“I do what I want to, Pissy!” Remus tossed his morningstar into the air. It got stuck in the ceiling, sending debris into the atmosphere.

Roman held back an annoyed scream. “Please just leave. Virgil and I-“

“Virgey’s here too?!” Remus’ smiled widened. “Oh this gonna be so much more fun!”

Oh shit. Virgil hopped up onto the top of a machine, deciding to stay up there for a while. He observed the twins quietly from his perch, sitting cross-legged on the metal platform. He cradled the plush in his arms.

“You go near him and I’ll kick your butt.”

Remus faked a hurt look. “Do you promise?”

“Shut up, you clown!”

“Awh, thanks!” Remus checked his watch, and by watch that meant the badly outlined sharpie watch he had drawn on himself out of pure boredom earlier. “Mm, actually I have to go and bother Jan-Jan!” He dropped a bomb into the middle of the floor, sinking out. “BYEEEEE!”

And The Duke was gone, the only evidence he was there being the unarmed bomb and the wreckage of the arcade.

Roman groaned, pulling the morningstar out of the ceiling. “Virgil, dear, you can come out now!” He wiped the debris out of his eyes as he made the weapon disappear.

Virgil stayed put up on his arcade pedestal, playing on his phone. It had just so happened that he was texting Patton at the time.

Popstar

V: I'm bored

Popstar: hi bored, I'm dad! 😃

V: nice

Popstar: I thought you and Roman were doing something?

V: busy yelling at Remus

Popstar: I told those two to stop fighting :(

Popstar: Oh! Before I forget, I wanted to try out this brownie recipe later!

V: ill help later ig if roman ever decides to let me go back to my house

V: oh shit gtg see ya later

"Are you okay up there?" Roman peered up at him from the floor. "How did you even get that high?"

"Fight or flight reflexes." Virgil shrugged, petting the top of his plushie's head.

Roman noticed the plush, and his face turned a bright red. "Say, where did you get that, Scaramore?"

"Claw machine in the corner." The emo gestured to the corner, where the large metal box stood. "It was the biggest one in there. Spent a fuckton of money on it."

"Oh! I can help with that!" Roman summoned a 10 dollar bill. "Here!"

Virgil leaned down to grab it from him, not realizing how close he really was to the edge of his little platform. "oH SHI-"

And he fell right off the console.

He shrieked as he toppled towards the ground. Luckily for him (and his bones), Roman was standing right under him and caught him almost right away. The prince side stumbled back a little at the sudden weight change, carrying the purple-clad side bridal style.

"Woah there, Hot Topic! You almost just took a tumble!"

Virgil let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "I'm clumsy as fuck, dude."

"Oh, that's okay!" Roman kissed Virgil on the forehead and handed him the money the emo nearly died to get. "I love you anyway."

"I uh... Appreciate the catch. Thanks I guess." Virgil's eyeshadow turned a deep purple. He noticed his plushie was missing. "Hey, where'd your plushie doppelganger go?"

Roman looked around, noticing the plushie by his feet. "Oh! Your plush companion is down here!"

"Oh, cool. Can you put me down?"

"No."

Virgil glared up at him. "Really? Are you, the mighty prince Roman, getting jealous over a plushie?"

"No!" The prince avoided Virgil's gaze.

"Liar." He smirked up at Roman. "You just want my attention, don't you?"

Roman scoffed. "Not true!" he paused for a moment. "..okay maybe."

"You're such a suck up, Princey." Virgil kissed him on the cheek.

"I know that!"

"Stop lying to yourself, you're going to summon Janus on accident. " Virgil watched as Roman faked a look of betrayal. "Actually though can you put me down-"

"Oh! Yes, I can." Roman gently set Virgil down onto his feet. "There you go, Gerard Gay."

"Awesome." Virgil picked up his plush, gesturing for the real Roman to follow him. "Here, let's go back to that claw machine. If you're gonna get that jealous over a plushie, I'll just go win you one."

Roman followed behind him. "I'm going to win this plushie all by myself!" he decided, putting his hands on his hips.

"You do you, hon." Virgil slotted the bill into the machine, the play token amount on the little LED screen lighting up. "I want to see if I can get another plushie, actually. Specifically Janus' because I want to dropkick it down a flight of stairs."

Roman held back a snicker at that statement. "I'll go after you, then."

It only took two turns this time for Virgil to be able to grab a small Janus plushie. He took it out of the prize receiver, holding it by the end of the cape. "It's cuter than our Janus."

Roman fully laughed at that one. "Don't let him hear you say that!"

"Or else what? He's gonna self care me to death?" Virgil rolled his eyes playfully and set Plush Janus next to Plush Roman. "Your turn, Princey."

Roman rolled up his sleeves, striding over to the claw machine. "Watch me do this in one go!" he boasted proudly, readying the console.

Quick note here, it did not take him one try.

A few minutes (and an extra 10 bucks) later, Roman held up his prize in triumph. "I did it!"

Virgil smiled at him as he looked up from his phone. "Good for you."

Roman held up Plushie Virgil next to him. "Look, now there's two emos!"

Virgil rolled his eyes. "You're hilarious."

"I've been taking lessons from Patton!"

The princely side walked over to another machine: a broken Pacman machine. With a wave of his hand, the console renewed itself and was playable. He turned back to Virgil with a smirk. "Who's going first?"

Virgil smirked back and cracked his knuckles. "Oh honey, you're going down."

What the heck this took me freaking ages-

#sanders sides #roman sanders #remus sanders #tss virgil #prinxietyweek2023 #tss roman #prinxiety week #sandersides #sanders sides fanfiction #prinxiety

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beetlewine-art · 1 year

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"Who's Manny?"

I just found out that "Manny" is used as a nickname for "Roman" and i decided to make a short fanfic about it because i got inspired.

Resume: Virgil has been crazy about his new boyfriend lately and has been talking non-stop about him, his two best friends, Remus and Janus, start to befome curious about this new man Virgil is dating, his name is, "Manny" or at least that's what Remus thinks since that's what Virgil calls him, to his surprise, Manny is only a loving nickname that Virgil uses to hyde the identity of his boyfriend, eventually, the true comes out and Remus is not happy about who "Manny" actually is.

Pairing: Romantic Prinxiety, mentioned romantic Demus.

Warnings: Swearing, lying, Remus being an overprotective brother and Virgil is a simp.

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

Remus is rolling his eyes, once again, Virgil started going on about his new man. Virgil has been like this since he started seen his current boyfriend, he was going on and on about how beautiful and talented he is: "Manny did this" "Manny did that" or "Manny and i went to X place last week". Remus was tired of it, it was cute at first but now it was just annoying.

He couldn't understand how Janus was SO patient with Virgil, meybe because the emo has never been so invested in a relationship before, Virgil is usually really private about his love life and never talked this munch about his dates. But this time he was head over heels and couldn't stop talking about this "Manny" guy.

Janus was starting to get really curious about him, and really suspicious about their relationship too, because as he said it: "For a man who brags so munch about his boyfriend, he is trying really hard to hyde it from us" and he wasn't wrong, Remus couldn't care less, he was tired to hear about Manny, but he admited that it was really weird how little Virgil shared about his boyfriend. Sure he talked a lot about Manny, but at the same time he didn't? Sure, he talked about how amazing he is, but he never gives any actual information about him, like how old he is or what he does for a living, what he is studying in collage, nothing.

"is kinda impresive, you know?" Remus heard Janus said "How you can talk so munch about this guy, but never tells us anything about it" Remus looked at Virgil, who now had his eyes wide open and had gone completely silent. Janus continued:

"When are we going to meet him?"

Virgil said the same reason he gave the last time they asked him that "is too soon" but Janus wasn't having it

"Come on, Virge, is been seven months since you used that scuse, you can't keep using when you two have been dating for ten months by now"

Virgil shrugged his shoulders and look away:"You can't meet him now, he is out of town".

"Oh, why? Is he gone because of work? Or collage?".

Virgil looked unsure to answer that question, but finally he said:

"He is away because he got a role in a musical, is not a big one, but he is really exited about it".

"So he is an actor"? Janus asked and

Virgil nooded, Janus wanted to know more, Remus was listening to the conversation, he wanted to see how munch information Janus could get from Virgil before the emo decided to leave. Janus asked another question:

"How old is he?"

"22"

"Is he in collage?"

"Why does that matters?" Virgil was starting to get anxious, so he grabed his drink and looked at Janus before taking a bif sip from the cup. Remus was starting to get interested in the conversation joined in:

"don't get defensive, Emo, Jani just wants to know more about your little boyfriend, is normal since you want to hyde him so badly"

"I AM NOT trying to hyde him"

"Then why don't you tell us more about him, right now the only thing we know about him is that he is an actor and is 22 years old" Remus smiles at janus and laugh.

"And that his name is Manny, don't forget his name, Jan"

Janus looked at Remus and said, with a smirk on his face.

"Oh, i don't think that's his actual name Remus, little Virge here has a bad habit of refering to his boyfriends by nicknames only" Janus looked back at Virgil, who looked like a bowl of cold water had just fall over him.

"So what's his actual name? I guess is something like Emmanuel? or Manfred?"

Virgil was now sweating and got up.

"None of those, now if you scuse me, i have to go"

"I guess his name just end with "Man"?"

"Wait a minute"

Remus looked at Virgil, something was weird, things started to connect in his head. Virgil had a 22 years old boyfriend, that was an actor and was away from town because he got a role in a musical, meanwhile, Remus just happends to have a younger brother, who is put of town, is also and actor and is the same age as Manny.

"I REALLY HAVE TO GO" Virgil grabed his things and left his part to pay for the drinks. In that moment Remus got up and started to follow Virgil.

"Virge, wait, who is Manny?"

Virgil didn't listen to him and walked faster.

"Virgil, come back"

Virgil started to run.

"VIRGILIO DON'T FUCKING RUN AWAY FROM ME, TELL ME WHO THE FUCK "MANNY" IS FOR?" Remus screamed while running behind Virgil.

Janus soon regreted his choices, payd for their drinks and run behind them while telling Remus to calm down.

Three weeks later, Roman come back to town and he was not happy when he found out about the fight his brother and boyfriend had in the middle of the street, and he was even more livid when Remus had the audacity to give him the silent treatment for dating one of his friends.

____________________________________

This is my first short fic and i'm terrible with writting in english, i am so sorry for the terror grammar. I wanted to do this as a writting practice and because i was inspired. If you want, you can't correct my writting mistakes, i am open to critics and corrections.

Tag list: @emobeanwhoneedssleep @maze-arts @roman-can-gay @dorkyduckling16 @meowthefluffy

#ts prinxiety #sanders sides #my post #roman sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #deceit sanders #janus sanders #demus #dukeceit #prinxiety fanfiction #manny is such a cute nickname for roman #my fanfiction #beetlewine #beetle fics

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gumnut-logic · 6 months

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He was there.

Always there.

There had never been a time he didn’t expect it, yet he had never taken it for granted. His brother was just there. Usually somewhere in the background.

Quietly watching.

Thinking.

He didn’t have to say anything. Scott could tell by the cant of an eyebrow, the settling of a hip or the shift of his shoulders. It was subtle, but Virgil broadcast his thoughts on a frequency Scott was tuned to and indicated his opinion.

Scott valued that. Ever so much. He lauded his brother’s capability and trusted him more than he did himself.

So, when Virgil stiffened at the sight of the man who walked into the office, Scott definitely took notice.

Virgil wasn’t even meant to be there. He had simply accompanied Scott into the office in London as a prelude to the main reason why they were in town. Gordon had already gone ahead to Penelope’s along with Alan and Grandma. John was due down in the afternoon. Virgil had come with Scott to the office just to keep him company.

And now he was wired tighter than one of his piano strings.

Scott eyed him a moment before standing up and walking around the desk. He held out his hand in greeting. “Mr Yost, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Scott Tracy, well I never. May I call you Scott? Call me Hows. It is great to finally meet you.”

Scott’s hand was gripped with both of the other man’s and far too tight.

Exuberance abounded.

Virgil stood up slowly and buttoned the jacket of his charcoal grey suit.

There was nothing aggressive about the movement, but it set alarm bells ringing in Scott’s head. He straightened and gestured in Virgil’s direction. “This is my brother, Virgil.”

Virgil had been sitting beside the desk, thumbing through his phone a moment ago, waiting for Scott to finish signing the pile of papers his secretary had dumped on him when he walked through the door. So there was no obstruction to walk around to meet the out thrust hand of their guest.

But Virgil didn’t move and ignored the offered hand. He only dipped his head. “Mr Yost.”

“Er, uh, yes, nice to meet you.” The man fumbled and wiped his hand against the white of his suit pants.

Scott blinked and wracked his brain for a reason why Virgil was so hostile. What had he missed?

Yost frowned up at him.

Scott cleared his throat. “Well, Mr Y…Hows. What can we do for you?”

“Oh! Yes, I heard you were in town and rushed over immediately. I would have sent my proposal electronically, but since you were here, I just knew you would want to see me in person.” The man was positively babbling.

Scott was seriously reconsidering his decision to let the man in.

Yost must have picked up on Scott’s thoughts because his expression changed to one more of panic. “Right, yes, my proposal. How would you like to be the owner of the tallest building in the world?”

Something made Scott look at Virgil at that very moment. The sudden fire in his brother’s eyes was startling.

Apparently, they didn’t want to be owners of the tallest building in the world.

Back to their guest… “Uh, no, I don’t think we are interested, Mr Yost.”

The man frowned. “But you haven’t seen my proposal yet. It’s called Tracy Tower, after your father and shaped perfectly like a rocket.”

Virgil took a step forward and Scott stepped between the two men. “No, I’m sorry, Mr Yost. Thank you for thinking of us, but we are not interested in building anything right now.” He began to shoo the man out.

“But, but, but, you were calling for proposals!”

“Sorry, my mistake.” He held open the door and gestured to his assistant. “Carly, could you please show Mr Yost out. Thank you.” Scott smiled politely to the flabbergasted man as his EA ushered him out.

Scott shut the door quietly behind him.

Virgil grunted and sat back down. “Thank you.”

“Speak to me, Virg.”

“Two words. ‘Crystal Spire’.”

Scott blinked. “You’re kidding.”

“No. I’m not.” Virg was fiddling with his phone again.

“I thought that guy had his…everything revoked.”

“So did I.” Virgil put his phone to his ear. “Penny? Yes, we will be there shortly. I have a quick one for you.” A pause. “Yost just tried to sell Scott a development proposal.” There was a sharp sound from the phone. “Uh huh. Thank you, Penny.” Virgil smiled. “Tell Gordon he can wait. We will be there shortly.” A grin. “See you soon.” And he hung up. Virgil looked up at his brother. “Whatever he has, he will no longer have within the hour.”

“You really don’t like this guy, do you?”

“He burnt my ‘bird while Alan was in it.”

Cold washed over Scott. “That one.”

“Yes, that one.” Virgil grumbled and went back to playing with his phone, conversation obviously ended.

Scott walked back behind the desk and took his own seat, determined to plough through the last of the reports he had to sign. It wouldn’t hurt to get over to Penny’s asap.

To check on his littlest brother for no reason whatsoever.

Virgil was a quiet presence beside him. It felt right.

Because he was always there.

Where Scott needed him to be.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #nuttyfic reblog

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tanushakyrano · 2 years

Text

febuwhump day 5: "that's gonna scar."

starring my attempt at writing a hospital environment, with my only experience with medical stuff being greys anatomy and google search results!

characters: Gordon, Virgil

additional warnings: whump. they're in a hospital too but there's nothing graphic

________________

Gordon woke up feeling like he’d just been hit by a train.

Which, unfortunately, wasn’t far from the truth. High winds plus unsecured cargo containers equalled massive metal boxes careering across the deck of a transport ship during a storm, sending him flying through the air like a ragdoll until the wall had brought his impromptu flight to an abrupt end. His arm had snapped on impact. His head had thudded onto the deck, helmet failing to prevent him from sinking into unconsciousness for several minutes. The stabbing agony piercing his skull when he’d stumbled awake had made him wish he’d stayed unconscious.

Virgil had saved the day again. Of course he had. He’d sprinted across the deck to reach him in record time, kneeling at his side and supporting him as he tried to clamber to his feet. The two of them had limped back to Two, Virgil strapping him securely into the lift before heading straight back into the fray to get the last two trapped workers out before the entire ship went down.

They’d gone to the hospital. Gordon had tried to persuade his brother that no, it was fine, he could be treated on the island because they had a perfectly well-equipped medical bay plus a fully-trained doctor and several paramedics in the family so could they not go to the hospital, pretty please? But Virgil wasn’t having any of it. Which sucked, because Gordon hated hospitals.

The doctor had told him that the break was pretty bad. There was some internal bruising too, a good few cracked ribs from the impacts, but it was the sort that could only be fixed with rest and time. His head injury wasn’t too serious - they did a CT just to make sure there was no underlying brain damage - but he still had to go into surgery so they could piece the shattered bones in his forearm back together. Gordon just about managed to count down to four from ten before the anaesthesia kicked in and the operating room blurred around him into darkness.

Which led straight back into the getting-hit-by-a-train sensation.

His eyelids had never felt so heavy. It was like they’d been superglued shut; it was all he could do to prise them open a fraction. Overwhelmingly bright light splintered through his vision, and he gave up on opening his eyes as the sun sent waves of agony pulsing through his temple. There was that familiar sensation in his throat too, the hoarseness that came with the aftermath of intubation.

“Ow,” he croaked.

“Welcome back, squid,” a voice smiled from somewhere to his right. It took him a second to place its owner.

“Hey, Virg?” Gordon said hoarsely. “You got any water?”

He heard a chuckle. “Yeah, I can get you some water.” There was a pause, shuffling sounds filling the room as his brother moved around. “How are you feeling?”

Pretty fucking awful, if he was honest. There was a throbbing ache in his arm, snaking into his fingers too, and his head still felt like a fully-grown elephant had just sat on it.

“Oh, you know, just peachy. That cargo container had nothing on me.” His voice was strained slightly, though, and he just knew Virgil would pick up on it. He always seemed to know the things Gordon refused to say out loud.

“Do you want me to ask the doctors to up your pain meds?”

“...Yeah.”

A hand on his shoulder. Gordon forced his eyes open properly. Virgil was there at his side, still in his iR blues, looking like he hadn’t slept in a while. But he was still smiling. “I pressed the call button, so the nurses should be here in a minute, and I’ve got you some water. You’re gonna have to sit up to drink it.”

Gordon nodded - immediately regretting it, because even that tiny movement was enough to send more daggers through his head - and shifted so he was more upright on the bed, Virgil slotting an extra pillow behind him to support his back and stop him straining too much. The water was difficult to swallow, but he took tiny sips, and it helped to soothe his throat a bit.

The nurse showed up a couple seconds later. “Everything alright?” he asked.

“I think most of Gordon’s meds have worn off,” Virgil informed him, “and the doctor said that Gordon could have more on request if he needed them when he woke up.” The nurse nodded. Gordon tried to ignore him as he moved around the room. The uniform was giving him the heebie-jeebies.

When he’d left again, Gordon turned back to Virgil. “How…” he tried, “how’d the surgery go?”

“Pretty good, considering how bad the break was,” Virgil replied. “They had to go in and reconstruct part of the skeletal structure.”

"I've got a bionic arm now?"

"Yeah, you could say that," Virgil chuckled lightly. "You're gonna have a scar, though. Sorry."

Gordon already had way too many of those. The hydrofoil accident had left him with a spiderweb of scars on his back, gnarled and thick where surgeons had sacrificed aesthetics for the extra few seconds they needed to save his life and his mobility. He'd gathered others, too, as part of International Rescue. They all had. Burns, operation scars, lacerations. They always served as a reminder of some of the lowest points of their lives.

Then again, they also reminded him of the good. The people who got to see another day because of the sacrifices they all made on the job. Where there was now scar tissue, there had once been an open wound. Each and every one on his body was a reminder of life, not death, and every time he looked at himself in the mirror Gordon reminded himself that his scars were not just painful reminders of what he'd been through but proof that he'd been through that and lived. That other people got to live too.

"It's cool, Virg," Gordon said. The meds were starting to kick in; he grinned goofily, tipping his head back onto the pillow. "It'll make me look badass."

#thunderbirds are go #cora writes #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #febuwhump23 #whump #tw injury

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writerofshit · 3 years

Text

For almost 3 years the crew doesn't know when Matt's birthday is. This is solely because he never brought it up and sometimes the crew thinks he might have sprouted, fully formed, in front of a computer monitor roughly ten years ago. He didn't. He does in fact have a birthday.

When the crew finally realizes this, Trevor takes one for the team in trying to figure it out. He makes a point to bring it up all nonchalantly, 'yeah, Lindsay says you do that because you're a Virg-....Aquari-... Gemini?' complete with arched eyebrows and wide eyes.

And Matt's an observant guy, yeah, but more so when it comes to patterns in bank transactions or when the local donut shop has his favorite donuts available. People, even friends, are another story entirely. So he just shrugs. 'what does me being a Gemini have to do with liking mustard on a hot dog?'

But Trevor doesn't have an answer for that, of course, because it was bullshit to begin with. Instead he mumbles something about stars and time and relish, scurries off to tell Jeremy what he's learned. Which isn't much, sure, but at least they've got a window now.

The entire crew spends a ridiculous amount of time dropping opinions on May and June dates. 'yeah I'd hate to be born on June 2nd. Wouldn't you, Matt?' and 'May 27th is my favorite date for sure. What's yours, Matt?' and 'i've never met someone with the same birthday as me, May 23rd. Have you, Matt?'

And again, yeah, Matt's an observant guy. Most people, in fact, are probably observant enough to notice when an entire group of criminals act really fucking weird about the calendar. But again, Matt's observant about things like tiny movements on camera feeds or that there's not extra onion on this burger, actually. So he shrugs and says 'yeah I knew someone growing up who was June 6th. We used to argue about who could have a party. I always lost.' like this isn't information the entire crew has been fishing for over the last month. They probably could have asked outright and Matt wouldn't have cared.

It's honestly kind of annoying.

The week his birthday rolls around again, they go all out. Big ass fucking party, invite everyone they can think of. Every old friend not turned enemy, crews they've talked about working with but never got around to, minor celebrities they know Matt will get a kick out of toasting in his honor. It might actually be the biggest party or event or goddamn crowd Los Santos has ever seen. All there for Matt. All celebrating this guy most people have never seen.

It's a kickass time. Matt gets hoisted up and sung to, then Michael, then Fiona, then someone Matt is sure he's never met. 'It's a cover.' Jeremy drunkenly yells in his ear. 'So no one knows who's really you.' It's a sentence that's not quite right, but Matt appreciates the sentiment. It's also probably not even accurate, given that he was the first up and they've made him cut a cake on a stage, for some godforsaken reason. It's the thought that counts, though.

All in all, Matt thinks it might be the most fun he has ever had.

Two days later, on his actual birthday, it's almost the complete opposite. In terms of scale, at least. It's just the crew, up in the old penthouse Geoff swore he'd sold. He hadn't, of course. Never could bring himself to pull the trigger on it.

It's pizza and beer and donuts and cupcakes. It's Mario Kart and Ultimate Chicken Horse and a game of Monopoly that's played in teams, somehow. It's stories that reach all the way back to an alleyway, three idiots pointing guns at each other because they had no idea what they would become, what they'd join into. Jeremy says they were 'pretty sure Matt had never held a fucking gun before that' and Trevor agrees wholeheartedly.

They try to pick their favorite 'Matt's playing music over the loud speakers during a fucking bank robbery' song. It's a tie between Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go ('because i knocked out that fuckin' guard and he thought it was funny!' Michael yells. 'who the fuck thinks of that?' and Call Me Maybe ('because god forbid i take one breath before I answer him. I wasn't even in the bank, i was across the fucking street playing lookout! I only heard it through somebody's earpiece.' Alfredo says, rolling his eyes.)

When the night winds down, and it's no longer Matt's birthday but they're still pretending it is, Jack brings out an apple with a candle stuck in it and Geoff cries with laughter. 'you're getting older, Matt, you gotta eat more fruit.' she says. Matt argues that he does eat fruit, he had a lemon lime flavored cupcake at the party.

There's one whole serious moment during all of it. Things get quiet, Geoff not quite meeting anyone's eyes. 'y'know, Matt, we all make a lot of jokes. We call you an asshole, tell you we hate the plans you make. I don't know how many times I've said I regret hiring you, or any of you, really. And, uh, yeah, sometimes it's true.' It earns him a chuckle from around the room, and he clears his throat. 'but seriously, you're, uh, you're one of the best fuckin people I know. All of you are. And we're lucky to have you. We love you, man.'

Nobody cries, because this is a group of hardened criminals who rob banks and blow up buildings and kill people, sometimes, so of course they don't fucking cry. They do, however, somehow all find themselves with a serious case of the sniffles, all wipe totally non existent tears from their cheeks.

No one says anything, for a long moment, not even Matt. He should be saying thank you, or telling them how much he loves them too, or hell, even cracking a joke. He can't seem to find the words, though.

Jack holds up her beer. 'to Matt.' she says. Around the room, various drinks go up almost immediately, and there's a not even close to in sync chorus of 'to Matt.'

No, tonight is not nearly as grand or extravagant as the party two days ago. There are no expensive cars being raced, no crowds of people shouting 'Axial!', no stages or celebrities or fireworks. This is just his family, together.

It is the best birthday he's ever had.

#this fic? head canon? mini fic?#this whatever brought to you by: it being my birthday and this being all i really want.#fahc #fake ah crew #ks writes

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marrikko33 · 3 years

Note

hello ! how are you ? your fanfictions are amazing!if you dont mind yuji x reader, she's his girlfriend but she never kiss him(even the first kiss) neither sleep with him,(do nothing that a young couple should do, not even the thing you know 👉👈) she only hold his hand cuz, she's afraid that sukuna will take the control of his body,"yuji i know being in relationship with me is annoying..we do nothing special not even a kiss..you're so patient thank you, i love you so much " thank you ! 🛐🇷🇺💜

sure shawty, sounds good to me, enjoy!

tsym btw 💞, (ru 💜 ? can i call you that now? >3)

genre: fluff with very very very slight angst

pairing: yuji itadori x female reader

warnings: none except for no punctuation and mentions of s3x.

it was a simple flinch, yet the action alone was enough to make you upset. knowing that itadori would be hurt because of something you intentionally did, because of a foolish fear embedded deep within you, really stung. flashing a quick smile to cover up your 'mistake', you walked off, a pile of books clutched in your hands as you felt your heart drop further.

itadori, being the innocent lil boy he was, had no idea what was causing your lack of skinship, the lack of love you showed through actions towards him. at first, it made him slightly taken aback, yet he brushed away the thought of you not liking him. 'it's just because she's shy' he confidently said to himself everytime the thought struck him. 'it'll go away, just you see'.

yet his confidence came to an abrupt halt, the minute he felt you jerk away in alarm when he patted you on the back. that day, as you walked away, arms full of books, he could almost feel sukuna's roaring laugh at the clear rejection and it certainly didn't make him feel any better.

it wasn't until he had politely, yet with a small frown, said goodbye to megumi and gojo and tiredly plopped himself in his mattress, that he realised the issue. yawning, the small mouth of sukuna appeared on his cheek, chuckling immediately as itadori groaned. "not now, later". "later? but my dear friend, you are in desperate need of help. loser, can't even figure out why your own damn girlfriend doesn't want you?". "want me? she loves me, just as i do".

"don't know about you, loser, but lovers normally touch each other, y'know? or are you that much of a virg-", "no, i'm definitely not. says the old ass beast that probably hasn't gotten his d!ck touched in decades-". "least i'm older than you, you probably have no damn experience-".

the two sat in huffy silence, sukuna yawning once again, before disappearing. "no wait, come back", tapping his cheek hard, itadori, with a grumpy expression, realised he needed sukuna. screw pride, this was you. "tell me why she doesn't touch me". "touch you? if you're talking about that small ass d!c-", "no, i'm definitely- wait, you're right, we haven't even had slept with each other once, but that isn't what i was gonna ask. why does she flinch?".

silence as thick as mochi followed, followed by a small smirk forming on the mouth resting on yuji's cheek. "me, it's because of me". "you? you're about as insignificant as gojo sensei's stinky socks when it comes to my love life", itadori laughed at sukuna's grumblings, but couldn't deny the stab he felt when he heard his words. sukuna was right. it was because of him.

itadori practically waited for the sun to rise the next day, staring at the melting pot of warm colours painting the sunrise, determined to fix whatever problem you had with him. even as he tied his laces and tried styling his hair the best he could, he only thought about how you would react to his question as to how he could solve, the problem of sukuna.

"y/n! wait up", jogging a short distance to you, he laughed at your flustered expression. "h-hey yuji, how're you?". the two of you made small talk as you began wondering why your boyfriend hadn't yet made any attempt to touch you as per usual. it wasn't as though you wanted him to, it just felt different knowing he hadn't bothered to.

"yuji-", "y-n". the two of you stopped, you giggled, letting him go first. "sorry, you go ahead", smiling encouragingly, you stared at him intently, waiting for him to say; what you knew he would say sooner or later.

"y/n, i know this has been a bit of a problem between the two of us and i know you it will take us some time to solve it, but let's not ignore it and face it head on. it's sukuna, isn't it? that's why you're afraid of touching me?". looking away, in a defeated and slightly ashamed voice, you managed to whisper a feeble, "yes".

"i should've known sooner". you continued walking with him, watching ants pass by on the smooth concrete and trying your best not to look his way.

finally, as you heard the voices of nobara and the others chatting animatedly in the distance, you did what you'd been waiting to do for what felt like months, standing on you toes and pecking itadori's flushed cheeks, before hugging him tightly around the waist and quickly moving away. "yuji i know being in relationship with me is pretty annoying ..we don't do anything special, not even stuff as simple as kissing, but i'd like to thank you for being so patient with me".

taking a breath and taking the chance to look back at his reddening face, you mustered up all the courage you had in you. "yuji itadori, i wanted to let you know i-", "love you? silly, i already knew". letting out a soft scream, you felt your small frame being picked up like a feather by his muscular arms, a huge grin on his handsome features.

"i love you too, y/n".

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wolfprincesszola · 1 month

Text

Echoes of 50 Chapter 3

As always, check the TWs and CWs in the masterlist. Platonic Analogical has to be one of my favorite things to write. Genuinely, platonic love in general is my absolute baby. Enjoy <3. ——————– Now Playing: Preventative Medicine by Ananya Tare

<Previous Chapter> <Next Chapter> ——————–

“L, open up!”

Logan paid no attention to the man pounding at the door for the fifth time in five minutes.

“I know you’re in there! I’m going to break your door down if you don’t open up.”

“For the fifth time, Virgil, there is a cat on my lap.” Logan scowled, petting Luna’s head as he scrolled down on the research he was assisting in. “I am not getting up just to open the door for you.”

“Damn you, Luna.”

“I heard that, Virge! I will not be having you desecrating my cat’s image.”

“Fine. You leave me no choice.” Virgil’s voice groaned through the door as the door swung open, an annoyed Virgil leaning against the front door.

“I’ll send you the invoice for my door.” Logan replied, sipping on the tea he had prepared moments before sitting down and becoming trapped by his Bombay cat.

“Oh, fuck off. I just picked the lock. Your door is completely fine.” Virgil rolled his eyes as he came in with two bags of pick-up. “I brought Chinese.”

“Must I stress the importance of eating healthy?” Logan raised an eyebrow as he gathered his papers to make way for the food on the coffee table.

“Must I stress?” Virgil raised an eyebrow in response before sitting down next to Logan. He placed the bags of Chinese takeout on the coffee table before going to scratch Luna’s head. Almost immediately, Luna purred and transferred from Logan’s lap onto Virgil’s.

“Traitor.” Logan scowled at his cat as he went to pack his research up and grab two plates for him and his friend.

“Luna just likes me better.” Virgil smirked as Logan started to grab his food, “Also, for someone who’s really into a strict schedule, you sure are researching late at night without food to energize you.” “You texted me you were coming over with food. I took that as a sign that I did not need to cook dinner.” Logan stretched, knowing that he had been sitting for way longer than he had anticipated, having been enveloped in his work and also having been stuck by his cat on his lap.

“And here I thought Logan Sanders was a person who never cared about what other people were doing.” Virgil smirked.

“Unfortunately for me, having friends was necessary in the brutal battlefield we called high school. And unfortunately for me, you stuck around after that point.”

Logan had met Virgil Grey, his best friend, in his sophomore year of high school. Knowing everyone’s thoughts since birth meant that any fake attempts at trying to be friends with Logan were dismissed. Logan hated fake kindness and false sympathy. High school was filled with fake kindness and false sympathy reeking from the different teenagers who just wanted nothing more but leaked secrets or homework help. It got worse when he had come out as gay to the entire school, causing people to flock over to ask if he wanted to be their gay best friend. It was awful. There were a few genuine teens that he befriended, but they were few and far in-between. Emilie Picani, Remy Somnus, and Virgil Grey. After high school, Logan really only stayed in contact with Virgil and to the man’s reluctance, Virgil’s presence from time to time was appreciated. Logan sometimes got so tangled in his work that he forgot to eat and Virgil always knew when to come by to help Logan out. To his reluctance, Logan could call Virgil a friend…even a best friend.

“Aw, L. I know you love me.” Virgil gave a grin as he grabbed some food to eat with one hand while still petting Luna with the other hand.

Logan rolled his eyes as he grabbed a Crofters jam inside the fridge to put some into his fried rice. “I don’t believe I ever said that.”

“Dude, ew. That’s so gross. You have an addiction.” Virgil made a face, changing the subject as he stared at Logan eating his jam-covered rice, “You need to get some help.”

“Sue me.” Logan deadpanned as he continued to take bites into his food.

“What are you even working on? The last time I talked to you, you said you were stuck with no evidence to help you whatsoever.” Virgil raised an eyebrow as he reached for the stack of papers.

Logan slapped Virgil’s hand away, “That’s pristine evidence. There is no way I will let you examine it while you are still eating.”

“Jeez, touchy.” Virgil grumbled, “You usually aren’t like this with evidence.”

“This evidence is new. I need to have sufficient time to examine the paperwork before you soil it.”

“Stuck-up prick.”

“I heard that, Virge.” Logan rolled his eyes as he finished his food before washing his hands and returning back to his research.

“What’s it even about?”

“There’s something special about this evidence. Not only is this new information I would’ve never stumbled upon before because I had never thought about using the dark web, but also there may finally be the biggest lead in all of history. What this evidence may lead to is a human account of what is happening in all the government buildings.”

“Hold on. How do you know this evidence is valid? Where’d you get these things from?” Virgil raised an eyebrow as he looked over Logan’s shoulder.

“A reliable source. At least someone who thinks they are reliable. They snuck into the government buildings for this.” Logan cleared his throat, not wanting to say more. He knew that Virgil would get even more upset to find out that a reliable source came directly from his CEO because it seemed more of a risk than a reliable source.

“Alright, fine. I’ll trust it.” Virgil replied warily before reading the file Logan was stuck on, “Patient 506174746F6E? That’s a long name. How many patients would there be that would need that long of a name?”

“It says the patient was often called Patient 50 for short. It seems that Patient 50 may have been one of the key items in defeating the Medeis, but it ended up being a failed experiment. I have looked at the other evidence I was given. Materials the government is purchasing, the employment rates of the Impotens over the employment rates of the Medeis, funding for organizations determined to take any advantage the Medeis have in fear that they will rise up against the Impotens. None of which directly help me too much, but if I can get into contact with Patient 50, I could get an account of what their true goal is, deduce what the materials they’re purchasing are used for, and brainstorm about ways to stop it from happening.”

“Great. So how are you going to do that?” Virgil raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

“Get to Patient 50? You don’t even have more than a picture of their back that you can go off of.” Virgil pointed to the picture of a person in a hospital gown.

From the figure, Logan could see it was a man with brown hair and a taller figure, but there was nothing else he could go off of. At least, except for some black lettering on the man’s neck. The middle trapezius, to be specific.

“But there is a discerning feature of this person.” Logan replied, pointing to the text on the man’s neck. “If I took a picture of the photo on my phone, I could possibly zoom in and enhance the letters to spell something out.”

“No need. I have 20/20 eyesight.” Virgil smirked as he put his food that he still hadn’t finished down. Bringing the photo closer to his eyes, Virgil began to read out the text. Logan fumbled to grab a pen, scribbling down exactly what Virgil said on his arm.

“Five, zero, six, one, seven, four, seven, four, six, f as in Frida Khalo, six, e as in Evan Edinger.”

“506174746F6E.” Logan read back before scrambling to the patient's name, repeating the same values. “Patient 50 has their name tattooed on their middle trapezius.”

“Oh, that’s kinda fucked up.” Virgil frowned as he gave Logan the papers back before going back to smothering Luna with cuddles and finishing the rest of his food.

“But it’s somewhere. Now…I just have to figure out what 506174746F6E is and what the importance they have to the government.”

“Hm, good luck.” Virgil remarked, “I will not be helping you in that escapade.”

Logan looked at Virgil with a sense of irritation. He knew that Virgil didn’t care as much as Logan did about this research, but sometimes, Logan would wish Virgil would pretend to care. At least then, Logan could pretend to ignore Virgil’s complaining thoughts.

“Then, can you at least keep your mouth shut so I can focus on my research?” Logan asked as he turned back towards the photo. He was one step closer, but it felt as if he had taken fifteen steps back from the original goal. He frowned as he looked at the bigger picture.

“How do you know you can even interrogate the patient?”

“It says he managed to escape the facility a while ago and that he has been escaping the sights of the guards in charge of looking for him. There is no doubt he is still in the city considering the technology the government has around this city. The facility probably would have had the patient chipped even before they were testing whatever they were testing on him. Now, the public can rely on RFID circuits which are too weak for anything this dangerous and big-scale. It aligns with the amount of electricity and computer boards that were created for a couple of years. Maybe they found a stronger satellite field or perhaps they figured out the idea of blood chemistry. Either way, there is nothing that surrounds this city and in a big open area, it would make sense that the patient would be undetectable within the city, but their location could be broadcasted within seconds of leaving.” Logan lit up at the idea.

Working at a technology company meant that he got to work with pieces of tech all the time. Understanding how everything came together and actually having a moment to apply his knowledge into his research was possibly Logan’s dream come true. If the government was using advanced pieces of technology that even Logan was not familiar with, it would mean disaster and also a new expansion in how the city could be working.

“I got lost when RFID circuits were mentioned.”

“English, L?” Virgil raised an eyebrow, confusion written all over his face.

“The patient is still within the city because the tracker they implanted into the patient will only start marking their specific address in a big open area. Big open area surrounds the city, so the patient’s only choice–if they do not want to be captured once more–is to stay in the shadows of the city and to stay out of sight from all the different guards. At least until they find a way to remove the tracker and I doubt the patient has even taken a look at how to remove the tracker within a few years of escaping the city. They would’ve been busy trying to make a life of themself in the city.”

“Doesn’t answer how you’re supposed to find them. There are over 3.5 million people in this city.”

“That is the Herculean task.” Logan sighed, “I will get back to you about that.”

“Well, either way, you shouldn’t stay here cooped up all of tomorrow.”

“Why not? It’s a Saturday. I have no work, no overtime, and all the free time. I could and should spend most of it researching instead of just standing around.”

“Come with me down to the coffee shop. It’ll be good to get some Vitamin D. For both of us.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, “What?”

“Come on. You need a break anyways.”

Logan groaned, knowing that Virgil was correct in some sense. “Fine.”

Staring at the numbers, Logan knew that there was someone out there that he needed to go and find. They would be the key to his research and the solution to his life goal. He was sure of it.

#wolfprincesszola #echoes of 50 #chapter 3 #logan sanders #virgil sanders #platonic analogical #best friends #tss bb #tss big bang 2024

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