astranite

[astranite]

The only good thing staff added recently

Mutuals we are doing this

[astranite]

okay what did i miss

(yes some of these overlap and some are suppositions. for example if parchment is always used for ephemera, rough drafts, notes, and never re-used or re-purposed, we can also assume that the author is unaware of wax tablets as a concept)

[astranite]

FishTank Week 2024! - May 12-18

Well, you all asked for a rinse, repeat, and most of you wanted prompts ASAP, so welcome again to FishTank Week, 2024 edition! We had such a fun time last year bringing out all our yellow and green and fiiiiish and music. I hope 2024 brings new ideas, new inspiration, and always all the FishTank things.

FishTank? Yes, Fishtank, the name we use in the thunderfam for the brother relationship of Virgil and Gordon. Brotp for some, but otherwise still so fun to explore anyway!

When is FishTank Week? This year it'll run from Sunday May 12th through Saturday May 18th. The significance of the week? Loosely calculated as the day between their birthdays, but honestly any excuse 💚💛

How do I celebrate FishTank Week? Like last year, we are releasing a series of prompts (see below). If they inspire you to write or create art, you can choose to post those on the exact day or anytime that week. Fic, Reblogs, Recs, and Art are welcome and appreciated all week long. Anything's welcome, so don't forget mood boards, music, head canons. Whatever you can think of!

We'll be active that week as well reblogging, and with some QOTDs and daily posts reminding of the prompt(s).

I'm not interested in FishTank: *hugs* totally fine. Our tags this year will be #fishtankweek and #fishtankweek2024 if you want to block them.

Questions: Reblog, comment, or you are also welcome to reach out to me directly.

Thanks to @emtb319 and @idontknowreallywhy for collaborating this year. And @gumnut-logic for letting me use a daily dose screen shot for the below.

Prompts - we've added some options within the prompts and some alternates for you to use as you like. Inspiration is the goal, and the only guideline is FishTank. The others can make an appearance too. We won't make you clean TB 4 for having a wayward Tracy, Kyrano, Creighton-Ward, or others around for the fun. But definitely Virgil and Gordon.

12: Wingman

13: At the... Orchestra | Art Museum | Aquarium

14: Brothers Relaxing

15: "We're a team, always" | "Did you doubt me?"

16: Comfort Food | Food on the go

17: Memories

18: Pranks

Alts: Love and Laughter | Along the Coastline

Good luck fish wrangling, and happy creating!

See you on the 12th,

Gavii 💚💛

#fishtankweek #fishtankweek2024 #thunderbirds are go

[astranite]

Why is it that Backyard cartoons are always the best ones?

Who's your favorite from Phineas and Ferb? (aside from Doof, the obvious choice)

#awesome art

[astranite]

Yayyyy fishtank!!!

I'm so ready to see some Gordon and Virgil on my dash. FishTank Week (May 12-18) hype!!!

Has anyone started on ficlets?

#fishtankweek #fishtankweek2024 #thunderbirds are go

[astranite]

Beautiful writing and heartbreaking insights into Scott!!!!

Feverish

For @edutainer2022 and @astranite from this post

Part 2 of Mimir

TISSUE WARNING mention of canon & OC past MCD

~

Virgil had patted his arm and left him to his ‘Scotty-Watching’ duties like Jeff didn’t know what he was letting himself in for.

‘Excuse me,’ Jeff’s brain supplied. ‘I’ve been on Scotty-Watching duty since before you were born, I know exactly what I’m letting myself in for.’

Except…he’d missed the last 8 years, missed the horrors that being Eldest, Commander, CEO and so much more had heaped on Scott’s shoulders. And on his mind.

He watched Virgil leave the room, only to pause at the door and look back at both his brother and then at him.

‘Dad – don’t take anything Scott says to heart. He tends to be…melancholy when feverish.’

And then he was gone, without explaining to Jeff what on earth he was talking about. Jeff sat beside the unnaturally still form of his eldest son and pondered his middle boy’s words.

Scott never had handled fever well. From the time he’d attempted to jump off the roof, convinced Dad’s rocket was just there waiting for him. From then on all of the boy’s fevered imaginations always centred around flying – whether it was himself or a variety of birdlife – until…until…no, Jeff would not go there.

Instead, Jeff sat at Scott’s bedside, occasionally bathing his son’s head, while he listened to his other sons out on a rescue.

He couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but Jeff suddenly became aware that the atmosphere in the room had changed. He looked down and into dark blue albeit feverish eyes. There was something else there he hadn’t seen for years. A coldness that made him shiver despite himself.

‘Scotty? How are you feeling, Son?’

But there was no reply. The eyes kept watching him, though, changing from cold to confused and finally to what Jeff could only describe as sad. When Scott eventually did answer him it was flat and full of pain.

‘Virgil’s gone then.’ ‘He’s on a rescue.’ ‘Always knew he would. Some day.’ ‘You always knew he would what, Scott?’

Jeff was genuinely puzzled. The eyes regarded him for a moment longer before breaking his father’s heart with his answer.

‘Leave me. Everybody leaves me.’ ‘No – Scott – that’s, that’s not what’s going on.’

The eyes looked disbelievingly at him. Scott scoffed bitterly.

‘Everyone I love leaves me. Mom left me. Grandpa. Eden left me. You left me. Of course Virgil has gone too. I can’t say I blame him.’

Before Jeff could speak, could utter anything to dissuade his son of this belief that frankly horrified him, Scott shot up and grasped Jeff’s wrist, holding it surprisingly tightly. Caught by surprise, Jeff looked into blue eyes that were this time completely distressed.

‘Why doesn’t Mom come back? Or Eden? Why, Dad? Why is it only you come back to see me?’

As suddenly as he had lurched forward Scott collapsed, exhausted. The next words were whispered, but they hurt Jeff the most.

‘Why do the ones I love the most never come back? What did I do wrong, Dad? What did I do wrong?’

#thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #jeff tracy #thunderbirds are go

[astranite]

have you been a little silly today?

[ID copied from alt text: marker art of a harbour seal that is lying down and sticking out its tongue a little bit. Text above reads "Make time to be silly! It's good for the soul!" The artist's signature reads @ watercolour critters. End ID.]

Instagram | Etsy | Tip Jar

#comics

[astranite]

I love my husbeast so fucking much

#thunderbirds are go #john tracy

[astranite]

power lines are crushed with the weight of four days of accumulated freezing rain in boucherville near montreal, canada, january 9, 1998

photo by robert laberge, via bbc archives

#photography

[astranite]

#birds #ice is slippery and penguins are slippery

[astranite]

Did you know? Tumblr DOES have a post length limit. Strangely, though, it's based on how many blocks of text you have. Supposedly this implies that you can have any length post so long as it's one block of text? Very strange, will have to investigate further.

[astranite]

Hidden Hounds.

#comics

[astranite]

The best team :)

Big work day, which requires the moral support of the whole team…

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds action figures #tiny tracys

[astranite]

Five Minutes But Maybe Forever

Earth and Sky ft. feverish Scott who's not having a good time and really needs a hug. Scott’s sick and scared because his brothers have left him. And he doesn’t do well being alone. Virgil makes sure he gets one.

Written from this prompt by @comfortingcatharsis :)

@edutainer2022 and @lying4sport as you both wanted to see feverish Scooter.

---

Virgil was gone for five minutes, absolute tops. He’d stepped out to go to the bathroom and refill his coffee mug, leaving a feverish Scott dozing with a hand brushed over his warm forehead to check his temperature and partly just for the contact, getting a mumbled affirmative in return.

The latest virus making the rounds of the Island had hit Scott hard, compounded by the utter exhaustion Scott fought through on a daily basis. He’d finally managed to get Scott to rest when he was weaker than a newborn kitten with a nasty hacking cough that had gone to his chest. Sitting with him as he looked over the latest update schematics for Two as proposed by Brains was both to enforce resting and keep Scott company as out of it as he was.

What Virgil hadn’t expected on his return was to find Scott curled into a ball on his bed, body heaving with sobs. The sounds were choked and painful, dragged out of his throat by gasping breaths. In between, they were broken by harsh, choked up coughs. 

The final detail that nearly shattered Virgil’s already split heart completely was how big brother clung to his abandoned flannel shirt, holding it protectively to his chest as if it the last piece of his brothers left in the universe. 

It was only because of the heat of the tropical day Virgil had taken the flannel off in favour of t-shirt beneath it on its own. He’d draped it over his chair by Scott’s bed and made sure Scott was tucked in before he stepped out; now the blankets were in disarray on the floor, with Scott’s desperation keeping the flannel, Virgil’s flannel close.

Virgil was back by Scott’s side in an instant. He reached for Scott slowly, wanting to do anything but startle and scare him further. 

What had happened in the brief time he’d been away? Unless he thought he was alone, Scott usually hid his hurt until he utterly couldn’t anymore. 

“I’m here, Scotty. You’re safe.” Virgil murmured reassurances without knowing exactly what was wrong. He grasped for what he could to comfort Scott, letting his voice fall into an even cadence in hopes it would get through the more than misery, the desolation rolling off of Scott in waves.

Scott tossed his head, mumbling.

“It’s Virgil. I’m right here,” he tried.

“Nuh uh.” Scott gripped the shirt tighter like he expected someone to tear it from his white knuckled grip. “Virgie’s gone.”

Tears welled up in Virgil’s own eyes. Dammit. He dashed at them as they threatened to track down his cheeks; he wasn’t ashamed of wearing his heart on his sleeve but right now he needed to concentrate on Scott.

Ever so carefully, Virgil pressed a hand to Scott’s shoulder, hoping for physical touch to get through to his brother and ground him. 

Scott froze; Virgil held his breath.

When Scott leant into his touch, resting his shoulder against Virgil’s palm with the force of his weight, his tears came to a startled pause as he registered Virgil’s presence. As he seemed to finally believe it. 

“I’m back, here with you and I’m not going anywhere, we’re going to be okay, Scotty. We’re safe and we’re gonna be okay.”

It became a hand rubbing circles on Scott’s back over his sweaty t-shirt, as Virgil eased himself closer to his brother. 

Feverish blue eyes pierced his. “You left me. You— you were gone.” Scott blinked in confusion, attempting to work out what was happening. 

Virgil crumpled. It was such a short time, he hadn’t thought to even alert John to watch over Scott in his absence.

“I’m so sorry, Scott.”

Scott frowned as he put the pieces together, like they kept trying to slip away. 

“How long was it actually?” It was a command, barely couched as a question.

“A few minutes. I thought you were okay, you were mostly asleep. Wasn’t sure you’d even notice,” Virgil admitted.

Scott scrubbed a shaky hand over his face. “Woke up from a nightmare and you weren’t there. The light had changed, so y’know, seemed like longer.”

Before he left, Virgil had pulled down the blinds to darken the room so it would be easier for Scott to sleep.

A shiver racked Scott’s body, transforming into trembling aftershocks. He’d be due for more fever meds soon, but frustratingly for all of Virgil that hated to see anyone hurting, not yet.

“Everything’s all blurry, blending together. Don’t know what day it is anymore. I can’t—” Scott cut himself off.

At that, Virgil gathered Scott into his arms as gently as he could, arranging lanky limbs so they would be comfortable as Scott barely moved to help, just let it happen.

“—didn’t think you were coming back. Everyone else abandons me too. I mean why wouldn’t they,” Scott mumbled into his neck as Virgil propped him up to lean on his chest.

Virgil swallowed, hard, to not break down there and then as his heart really did shatter. There were going to be messy, ugly paintings at some point later as he worked through all the emotions.

“Scott, listen to me. I will always come back to you. Nothing in the world could possible stop me.”

His big brother twisted around to look up at him with those bright, sky blue eyes filled with tears. 

“‘Cause we’re brothers?” Scott asked. 

“You’re my brother. I’ll always love you.”

Scott crumbled then, and it took Virgil a long, terrifying few seconds stretching out to realise it was in relief, even as Scott took a deep, sudden breath in and begun to cry like everything but the exhaustion had been wrung out of him.

It was less harshly than before but still interspersed with hiccups and coughs. 

Virgil wrapped Scott up closer, cradling him as Scott rested his head at the crook of Virgil’s neck and let him take his weight. All he wanted was for his brother to rest, to know that he could lay down his burdens because they were here for him. He could let Scott cry as he obviously needed to after the whiplash of thinking Virgil was gone, before Scott put back up the walls and bounds that he used to make himself who he thought everyone wanted of him to be, when his family wanted him to just be Scott. Hopefully, bit by bit, Virgil could get it through to him.

Fever made Scott far too warm to the touch, yet Scott was caught up in violent waves of shivers coming and going like the tides. 

Virgil picked up his flannel that Scott had abandoned in favour of Virgil himself and draped it around him. In spite of gentle coaxing, Scott wouldn’t or couldn’t let go for long enough to put his arms through the sleeves properly. Instead Virgil tucked it in, pulling up an extra blanket over them both. 

He settled back against the pillows, cuddling his big brother which went some way to mending his own heart and letting himself relinquish the guilt no matter how difficult that was to do. Beating himself up wouldn’t help Scott, he could only figure out how to do better next time. 

“You okay there, Scotty?” he checked in. 

The tears at least had slowed, reduced to the occasional catch in his breath where it brushed against Virgil’s neck. 

Scott shuffled to bury his face in Virgil t-shirt as he shrugged. It was probably the most honest Scott had been in answer to that question for a long time.

Rubbing a hand over his brother’s arm prompted Scott to tuck it around Virgil, clinging closer. He hated that Scott was hurting but he was ever so glad for the chance to hold Scott and comfort him while Scott let himself be held.

“‘m not going anywhere,” Virgil told him softly, “Before you worry, I don’t have anywhere I need to be.”

The schematics of Two he could look over here, and even then those could wait. 

With one arm securely around Scott, he reached over to the bedside table to grab his headphones and the bright blue water bottle there. 

He nudged Scott to drink as he fished around for the packet of tablets so he could take them too. 

After, Scott went limp against him, melting into the hug. Virgil pressed a kiss to his hair before carding through it in a gentle attempt to lull Scott to sleep, humming along softly to his music to keep away the silence. The less reminders Scott had of being alone, the better.

“Mmmm. Thanks for being here. Glad you’re here with me.” Scott words blended together in exhaustion but they told Virgil Scott would be okay. 

They both would be, because they were here together. 

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #astrawrite #earth and sky

[astranite]

[astranite]

when you're sick you're either a prince moder or a dog moder. prince moding is when you demand many little treats, drinks etc. i personally prefer to drag myself off to a secluded corner to either die or recover, aka dog moding

[astranite]

Can you tell us more lighthouse strories? :)

Hmm. I made a few other lighthouse stories but I think a lot of them are harder to track down these days? I should probably just make a pinned post.

Stories: The lighthouse and the watch house were right next door to each other the same way you might put a shed out back if your shed was a three-story glowing tower that screamed at a decibel level akin to violence at predictable intervals. There was a white painted line, or maybe it was yellow? On the rocks in a circumference, you were never to cross because beyond that line the noise could permanently deafen you.

The house we stayed in had a rich history of tear-downs and rebuilds. The Atlantic ocean is not fond of houses and does its very best to destroy them with ice, tides, and occasionally very large rocks. It was two stories, downstairs there was a kitchen, a living room, and a gear-storage room where we had a bunch of fancy-schmancy equipment set up and either running, or ready to take out and run. Upstairs were the sleeping quarters but it was weird. At one point the house had belonged to a family with normal bedrooms, then some new owners came in and boarded up the upstairs into two gendered halves so that boys and girls couldn't touch each other in ungodly ways. Then some door-holes were cut in those shodily put up barriers so the upstairs kind of had a spirit-halloween popup store vibe with the construction.

No heat, no electricity or running water. Water was usually packed in on ships and the bathroom was converted to a compost system that was actually fairly well done. Fire stove and gas appliances that we shipped gas in with kept the downstairs super cozy so often we just slept there instead even though it was cramped and sometimes we wanted to kill each other. One of my teammates had the nastiest unwashed white girl dreads Id ever seen because she didn't take advantage of any of the camp hair-hygene options available and kept trying to convince us to dredge our hair with seawater and tie it in knots. Blessedly I had lost my sense of stank by a few days into expedition mode.

Once I lost my hat in the wind and it blew into the circle zone of bodily harm near the lighthouse and I timed my sprint so I could run in, get my hat and get out before it could go off again in what was a spectacularly stupid move, exactly the half brained shit you would expect from an 18 year old with no thoughts in her head.

The moose washed up but so did a leatherback turtle which took a lot longer than the moose to clean and prep. We never killed animals but we often recorded the contents of dead ones and used/sold/donated bones and things to museams, researchers and various societies. We all hated the turtle, while the moose brought us together in a task of madness and hubris, no one wanted to touch the turtle and it was the most cursed task on the island for some time.

Various sea birds (assholes) were the main species living on the island. You had to walk with one hand raised above your head in a fist at nearly all times when they were nesting because the assholes were stupid and would attack the highest part of your body thinking it was your head. You would wear a glove or use an umbrella if you knew you would have to be out there for more than a few minutes.

All of the food was vegan and I hated it. We had a joke that if you threw the vegan scrambled eggs on the ground they would bounce higher than the hight you threw them from. They didn't bounce that high but they did bounce suspiciously high.

The other lighthouse I stayed at had a fancy helipad we could all sit out on made of wood. On off days we would sun ourselves. For some reason despite only a 3 hour difference between the islands great duck island was green and sometimes nice while great rock island was grey and bitterly cold.

Thgis lighthouse had electricity but still no plumbing. It was a much larger research station with at least one permanent resident but I didn't stay long. they studied burrowing owls, horribly invasive rabbits, ruins from early new england settlers and a now feral cow population the settlers just left for some reason.

Its bizarre to be warned about the dangerous cows that lurk in the woods nearby and how they can appear and disappear into the trees faster than you will realize it. It is even more bizarre to be walking in the woods planting your little pink flags to mark burrows when out of nowhere there is a huge godamn cow in front of you that is blessedly more afraid of you than you are of it as it slowly backs back into the trees and disappears.

Loved the research lighthouse life and the cool stories I got to be a part of. Unfortunately decided that it was not what I wanted to dedicate my life to for various reasons tumblr wouldn't find interesting.

For people who are super interested in lighthouse adventures, look up college of the atlantic where I was a student when I had my cool lighthouse adventures (they have a kickass program)

For people who just want to get the fuck away from everyone, enjoy some nature and live a nice quiet life I much more highly recommend checking out forestry jobs.