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#thunderbirds are go fanfiction
janetm74fics · 16 days
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Finding Daddy
For @edutainer2022
This fic contained this line: Based on this sentence: six year old Scotty making it all the way to Austin in the back of Lucy's father's truck to "go find Daddy in space".
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Mamma was sick.
So was Johnny and Virgy. Everyone was sick except himself, and Scott was trying his best to look after everyone…but he was only six and while tall for his age (according to his teachers) he still had to stand on a chair to reach the sink to fill the kettle (that he absolutely should not be doing.)
The arrival of Grandpa and Grandma had been such a relief for Scott that he’d almost burst into tears when Grandma had hugged him and told him how well he’d done.
But they’d been here all weekend now and Mamma was getting worse and Grandma was talking in hushed tones about the hospital and ‘d-hi-dray-shun’ and the baby in Mamma’s tummy…and Johnny too being really sick.
Daddy would know what to do.
But Daddy was in space. Scott couldn’t tell him how sick Mamma was, how his brothers were, and he was scared.
Last thing Daddy had said before leaving was to look after his Mamma and his brothers. And Scott had failed.
That night an ambulance came and took Mamma and Johnny and Grandma away. Grandma came back while Scott was in bed but he’d been awake and waiting and seeing her arrive back home alone didn’t quell the rising panic.
He stood at the top of the stairs and listened as his grandparents discussed what they were going to do tomorrow. Grandma would go back to the hospital with Virgil to get him checked over while Grandpa was going to leave early and go to town.
“Going to town” meant the big city. The only time Scott had gone to the big city was when Daddy had left for the moon.
Daddy. He needed his Daddy. Daddy went to the big city. Grandpa was going to the big city.
Scott was forming a plan.
Monday morning Scott was supposed to be picked up by Hazel, the girl Daddy paid to help Mamma out. She took Scott to school with her and her little brother, but Mamma had told her to stay away since they were sick.
Mamma hadn’t been well enough to ask Hazel to come pick him up for school today, but Scott wasn’t about to miss the opportunity to going to find Daddy. He piled some clothes in his bed like he’d seen in cartoons, dressed quickly and quietly slipped out the house and hid in Grandpa’s truck, pulling the tarp over himself, and settled down to wait. Somehow he knew that if Grandma found out what he had planned she wouldn’t let him go…
It was still dark when Grant set off.
He had an important meeting the other side of Austin. From their Kansas home it would have been an all-day journey. Thank goodness this time Jeff had moved their family to the ranch at Gran Roca temporarily with a view to seeing if it worked. It had only just come to Lucy six months ago, just before Jeff had gone to the moon. Now his trip to Austin would take a little less than five hours, and Grant had left early enough that he should be able to grab a late breakfast at that Diner Jeff had taken them to last time they’d visited.
He switched on the radio, cranked up the volume and trundled along completely unaware of the small child asleep in the cargo bed.
Ruth frowned. Virgil was still asleep – the poor boy was so stuffed up but without his brother’s noises he’d slept a little easier – but Scott was usually up at the first light and it was almost time to get him off to school and still he hadn’t appeared. Maybe he was coming down with this cold as well, it wasn’t like Scott to ignore being called down for food…
She left it to the last minute, but eventually Ruth knew that she couldn’t wait any longer, not if they were to get Scott to school and Virgil to the hospital for his check-up. He wasn’t as bad as John and Lucy, but he was still quite ill.
Sighing, Ruth finished packing everything she needed for a potential all-day stay at the hospital and made her way upstairs to Scott’s room, frowning once more at the shape on the bed.
She pulled back the covers and gasped.
Scott wasn’t in bed.
Sally ran around the ranch, looking in every room and under everything she could think of, but the six-year-old could not be found.
By now she’d missed the leaving time to get Scott to school by over an hour and she pursed her lips. Where could that boy be? But Ruth couldn’t think of where else to look. She didn’t want to worry Lucy – yet – and so she did the only think she could think to do.
She called her husband.
Getting a call while he was on the road was unusual – Grant was a stickler for no calls while he was driving – so to see his wife was calling him could mean only one thing. Something was wrong.
He pulled over at the first opportunity, 15 minutes after that first call, and returned the call.
‘Ruth? What’s the matter?’ ‘Grant – it’s Scott. I can’t find him!’ ‘He’s got to be around somewhere!’ ‘I’ve looked everywhere. He’s nowhere!’
There was a sound from the back of the pickup. Something moved.
‘Hang on, Ruthie, I may have found him.’
Grant got out of the cab and walked around to the back of the truck, gently pulling the tarp back to find Scott curled up around John’s star plushie and Virgil’s blanket.
Big bright blue eyes gazed up at him with the most impish grin on his face.
‘Hi, Grandpa!’ ‘Ruthie, Scott’s here with me.’ ‘He’s what?’ ‘Say hello to your Grandma, Scotty.’ ‘Hi, Grandma!’ ‘Scott – wha…how…why are you with Grandpa?’ ‘Grandpa is going to the big city. That’s where Daddy is in space.’
Grant and Ruth looked at each other. They couldn’t really fault Scott’s reasoning. With a smile for Scott Ruth carried on speaking gently.
‘Oh, hun. Scotty, promise you’ll do as Grandpa says and we’ll talk when you get home.’ ‘Ok, Grandma.’ ‘Love you, Scotty.’ ‘Love you too!’
Grant swiped the call away and looked at his eldest grandson. He was thankful that Scott had at least got dressed – his blue pyjamas with the red planes on would not have kept him warm in the back of the truck – and he didn’t even want to think about how early in the morning Scott had crept into Bessie…
Picking the boy up, Grant settled him into his special front seat and they set off again, this time with the radio off because Scott didn’t know the meaning of silence and he filled the cab with chatter about everything and anything, causing Grant to smile. He did wonder how he was going to break the news that they weren’t going to see Jeff though, and what he was going to do with the child while he was in his meeting.
Shrugging his shoulders and telling himself “one problem at a time, Grant”, they carried on to Austin.
The diner was delighted to have a small child, and Scott was treated to pancakes and waffles – something he’d never had together before – and his proclamation that this was the bestest breakfast he had ever had, thank you very much, was met with beaming smiles and a small pile of suckers and hard candy was pressed into his hands as they left.
Now all Grant had to do was get his meeting over and done with. He was formulating a plan, and before they carried on driving through Austin to their destination of Cedar Creek he’d set the wheels in motion via several messages.
The confirmation of his plan came as they pulled into the office block where his meeting was being held, and it was all Grant could do to not give it away immediately. But this meeting was important for the Tracy farm, so he put his rarely-seen business head on, took Scott firmly by the hand and entered.
It was a surprising success.
To say that the four businessmen were surprised when Grant showed up with a small child would have been an understatement, but Scott was a model farmer’s child. He sat and listened for all of two minutes before he started chatting to the man beside him.
As soon as he understood they were talking about the farm and the wheat there was no holding Scott back. The meeting should have been about investing so that Grant could buy a neighbouring farm as well as new, bigger and more modern silos. He’d had a price in mind. With Scott’s chatting about the horses and the chickens and the minutiae of farm life Grant came away with almost double what he’d hoped for plus a solid plan for going forward. Tracy Farms was going to own the largest area of wheat in their county, which Grant and his father and his grandfather had planned for decades.
He was doubly glad to have arranged this treat for Scott – that boy was a natural at everything, even if he didn’t know it. Grant glanced over at his grandson. Scott, turning at the same time, flashed him a grin. God help women when that boy was older – that dimpled smile coupled with those blues was going to be killer.
They drove along Route 290, arriving at Houston in the late afternoon. Scott was excited to be outside, but when they drew into the massive area that was the Space Centre he began bouncing up and down. The child had never been able to sit still for long – even while driving he was constantly kicking his heels or tapping his seat – and Grant was more than thankful that the seatbelt meant Scott couldn’t just jump up and out of Bessie then and there.
There was a man waiting for them at the guard post. He gave both Grant and Scott special badges and directed Grant where to park and, once that was done, he led them through the building until they came to a special seating area. There was a huge screen on one wall and the seats faced it, and the man left them to settle.
No sooner had he gone then the screen fuzzed a little, an indistinct picture slowly forming. But it soon cleared up to be Jeff on Alfie, with Lee in the background.
Scott’s shout of ‘DADDY!’ had Grant wincing and his ears ringing, and judging from Jeff’s reaction it had been as loud there too, but he couldn’t help the fond smile as Scott began talking like an express train.
Jeff shared a bemused glance with his father as his eldest proceeded to try and tell him five months’ worth of news in three minutes. He knew to let Scott get the majority of what he wanted to say out before gently steering the conversation or the boy would get upset.
Gradually the volume decreased as the flow of words slowed, and Jeff saw his chance.
‘What are you up to, buddy? Everything alright?’
Scott immediately stopped talking and cast an almost fearful glance at his Grandpa. Grant smiled encouragingly at him.
‘Mamma sick, Daddy. And Johnny and Virgy and the baby. When you coming home to fix it?’ ‘Scotty, you know where Daddy is?’ ‘The moon.’ ‘So you understand I’m very far away?’ ‘Ye-es.’ ‘Grandma and Grandpa will look after you all and I will be back in two weeks, ok?’ ‘Ok.’
The ‘Ok’ was glumly said, and Grand pulled Scott onto his lap.
‘You’ll be surprised at how fast it will go, Scott, I promise.’ ‘Ok Daddy.’ ‘Now, I want you to listen to your Grandparents and do as they tell you. Be a good boy for them and Mamma, Ok?’ ‘Yes, Daddy.’ ‘That’s my little Bluejay. Love you.’ ‘Love you too, Daddy.’
Grant held Scott as the image faded. All Scott’s energy seemed to have burned away, and the journey home was uneventful as he slept almost the entire way. When they eventually arrived home Lucy was waiting to greet them, plucking Scott from the cab into a fierce hug.
‘Young man, you scared your Grandma and me. What do you have to say?’ ‘I found Daddy, Mamma.’
The adults looked at each other and burst out laughing.
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hebuiltfive · 2 months
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My head has been everywhere the last few days and I missed WIP Wednesday, but here's a little something that is definitely not a new WIP, whatever do you mean? *nervous laughter* 👀 (Seriously, I need to stop pouncing on new ideas before I've finished my other ones).
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"Thunderbird Three, do you copy?"
The voice was faint and distant, hiding behind layers of ringing and distortion. Alan could barely focus. He felt as though he was falling... flying... surfing... His head span.
"Thunderbird Three, do you copy?"
The voice grew more agitated, more demanding, but Alan couldn't move fast enough to respond — he didn't want to. His body ached as though he'd been hit by a London double decker. His eyes were still closed but he knew that if he opened them, even for a second, that vertigo would become worse. His vision would swim and he'd probably lose consciousness again.
Oh, yeah. He'd been unconscious.
His arms floated up beside him from the lack of gravity; the only reason he remained seated was because of the harness keeping him in place.
"Alan, Scott? Respond."
That voice was different. Less familiar than the first, older and gravelier. A younger version of that voice existed in Alan's memories. He surged towards the voice to keep him concious.
"Here."
It wasn't Alan that responded to their Dad's request for a response. It was a groggy Scott, also battered and bruised, coming around from unconsciousness, and who was still belted into the seat beside him.
Alan groaned.
"What the hell happened up there?" Jeff was soft though the natural demand made Scott wince.
Their first space mission back with Dad at the helm and they'd already messed up badly.
To save Scott from having to answer, John interrupted. "GDF on-site teams are coming back online."
Jeff turned his focus back to John. "Did they all make it?"
Their brother's silence was enough of an answer, and Scott and Alan quickly exchanged a mournful look.
What happened hadn't exactly been their fault, but if they'd been just a few minutes sooner then maybe...
"I want you both back home." Jeff ordered. "John, make sure they have a safe flight."
"FAB, Dad."
When Jeff's hologram blinked away, John let loose a sigh. He rubbed a gloved hand over his face. Besides him, Alan sensed Scott's tension easing.
"Is he mad?" Alan asked, his voice croakier than he'd have liked.
They'd only just got Jeff home and Alan was still learning who their father actually was, seperate from the version of him he'd created during his youth. The last thing he wanted to face was a disappointed Dad.
"No. He isn't mad. We were both worried you'd been ... It doesn't matter. You're both fine. I'll get EOS to guide you home."
"We can fly, John." Scott insisted but backed-down at their space brother's flat look. It was an unusual response from the leader — former leader now, Alan supposed. That was still something they were all trying to get their heads around.
"Dad's orders." John shurgged before gently adding, "It's safer this way."
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shirubie · 2 months
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Romance Showcase Event: TAG: Love & Thunderbirds
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Calling all romance fans of the TAG fandom! Love is in the air (and in space, and underwater...)!
This event is to showcase stories and art, old and new, that has romantic love as it's main theme. Want warm and fuzzy cuddles, awkward crushes or burning passion? You'll find it here!
To participate, post or reblog and use the tag #TAG:Love&Thunderbirds. Doesn't have to be your own stuff, you can link to works you like and want to share with the fandom. Just make sure to credit the original creator (no reposting please).
I'm not planning a specific start or end date for this event, so there's no deadline, you can post whenever you want.
A few ground rules:
-All ships are welcomed, even OC ships, as long as the story is centered on romance. Respect other people's ships even if they're not ones you like. Don't forget to tag your ships so that people can find/avoid them (everyone wins that way!)
-Please tag/warn for any adult or triggering content.
-Please credit the artists if you are not the creator of the work.
This is my first time starting an event, I hope to do a good job. If you have any suggestions you can send me a message.
Have fun everyone!
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alexthefly · 2 months
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Take My Hand
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This was supposed to be a @flashfictionfridayofficial , but I was a bit late and got my timezones mixed up, and then the word count went over and... well here it is anyway.
Or read it on AO3 here.
Also tagging @tagloveandthunderbirds 'cos ❤️
Fandom: Thunderbirds/Thunderbirds are Go
Word count: 1048
Warnings: feet/shoes
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“You ready to do this, Sweetheart?”
Lucy took her time smoothing down the front of her dress, purposely not looking at the empty dance floor yawning in front of her.
“Are you? You know dancing isn't exactly my forte; a first dance in front of all these people just seems like asking for trouble." She shuffled in her chair. "Are trampled feet covered by the wedding insurance?”
Jeff snickered. “I checked the policy just before I came over here. We’re all set.”
“Okay, if you’re sure. But I’m wearing heels, don't forget; it's going to be like Bambi on Ice out there.”
He shrugged. 
“Well I did suggest the hiking boots instead, but you shot me down; something about ‘the aesthetic’. Which looks stunning on you, by the way.” 
He stood back to better take her in, grinning appreciatively.
“Last time I make that mistake,” she muttered, waving away the compliment. “Given ‘the aesthetic’ is currently cutting off the circulation to my pinkie toe, respectfully ‘the aesthetic’ can go jump in a lake.”
She mentally cursed the salesperson who’d talked her into putting fashion ahead of comfort.
Concern flashed across Jeff’s handsome face. “Are they really hurting you, honey? We can get you other shoes.”
She smiled up at him reassuringly. “No really, I’m exaggerating …sort of. They just kinda pinch, that's all.”
If she was totally honest with herself, it wasn't even the salesperson’s fault, really. She’d been the one chasing a dream of being perfect and ladylike, even if it was only this once. Dammit, why was dressing up fancy so hard?!
Of course it didn't help that her new husband managed it so effortlessly. He was currently working ‘the aesthetic’ to within an inch of its life, cutting a very dashing figure in his elegant new grey suit and tie, dress shirt and shoes all perfectly matched and filled out perfectly.
Seriously, where did he get off being so good-looking? 
She’d just wanted to appear worthy of him, that’s all. Jeff Tracy: ace pilot, hometown hero, handsomest guy in the county and a genuinely good man to boot. He was the prince, and just once she’d wanted to feel like she could be his match - a princess - instead of some awkward, clutzy science nerd who’d somehow managed to win the husband lottery.
She sighed. Clearly that wasn't to be.
There was a pause, then without another word her very handsome husband - God, he really did look good in that suit - knelt down in front of her and took one of her feet gently in his hands. He examined the delicate and uncharacteristically high-heeled white shoe with utmost seriousness, before removing it and flinging it across the room.
“Jeff!”
Lucy felt her face burst into flames as a roomful of eyes turned towards them.
“What? Doesn't that feel better?”
In all fairness it absolutely did. She wiggled her newly-released toes appreciatively even as she fought the urge to hide underneath the table.
“You can't just go throwing shoes around. You’re making a scene.”
He stopped and looked at her, ignoring the rest of the room, then slowly and deliberately reached out and took hold of her other foot.
“I want to enjoy a dance with my beautiful new wife, and if these admittedly pretty little shoes are getting in the way of that…” 
The second shoe flew over his shoulder, just missing a nearby waiter.
“...then they’ve gotta go.”
The room was hushed; everyone was looking at them. Part of her wanted to run and hide in the coatroom until they’d all gone, but he was holding her gaze, keeping her steady. 
“I don't want anything getting between me and the most amazing, beautiful, perfect person I ever saw, ever again.”
He rose gracefully to his feet and held out his hand to her.
“So how about it? May I have this dance?”
It was late spring and the cicadas were singing. Airbase staff were bustling all around, knocking into her, sending papers flying everywhere. She knelt down to pick them up, and suddenly there was a hand in front of her.
“Can I give you a hand, Miss?”
It was fall, and the trees around them were every shade of red. They’d talked about everything and nothing, walking side by side, until he stopped and reached out to her.
“Would it be alright if I held your hand?”
It was winter and the snow was falling softly. His ice skates made long swooshing noises on the ice around her, while hers clacked noisily as she tried and failed to keep her footing. Another swoosh and then he was there in front of her, hand extended.
“Okay, so not my best idea. How about we go get a hot chocolate instead? My treat?”
It was the last days of summer, and the clear water of the lake lapped at her toes. She’d never felt so happy in her life. A perfect day. Beside her she felt him shift nervously, and then he was holding his hand out, a little red box in it, one knee on the ground.
“I’ve got a question I wanna ask…”
Her head flooded with the memories of a hundred moments, small and huge, all of them important. A hundred images of him offering his hand, and at last she understood.
He'd reached out for her.
She was the one. And she was worthy, just as she was.
Smiling, she accepted the offered hand.
“Of course you may, Mr Tracy.”
He grinned and bowed. “Why thankyou, Mrs Tracy.”
She rose and he led her, barefoot and spotlit, to the dance floor without a care in the world. Keeping her hand in his, he wrapped his other arm around her waist, enveloping her like a delicate, precious treasure, safe and protected. Their eyes met and he beamed at her like his face was made of actual sunshine.
She grinned back at him.
“You’re sure about that wedding insurance now? Last chance.”
“Don’t you worry about my toes, darlin’. Just keep a hold of me and we’ll do fine.”
And with that the band struck up an old favourite, and hand-in-hand they danced the night away.
Take my hand
Take my whole life too
For I can't help falling in love with you.
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janetm74 · 2 months
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18 and Virgil please!! :D
I assume this is for the 30 gentle prompts list:
"Can I join you?"
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Family
Five times Virgil is asked ‘Can I join you?’ And one time he did the asking.
Virgil was built like a tank. There was a reason that the nickname stuck. (Gordon’s repeated comments of ‘brick ….houses notwithstanding).
Unlike a tank, though, Virgil was the epitome of calm. Often a family member would seek him out just to soak in that oasis and by osmosis become calm themselves.
Scott.
His eldest brother was all motion. Perpetual motion, in stark contrast to himself. But they balanced each other out perfectly.
Usually
Today, though, had been one of the rare occasions when they had clashed, leaving both of them feeling off-kilter.
Virgil had retreated to his outside studio - the largest of the beach huts - ostensibly to sketch, but his Muse was unhappy. He sat at his easel with charcoal in hand, poised and ready, but nothing was happening.
A knock at the door had him internally sighing, but he’d known Scott would come down at some point. His face twitched with a suddenly-recalled memory. Virgil took a deep breath in and thundered:
‘Who dares to disturb my sanctuary!’
There was a pause, and Virgil found hims hard-pressed not to giggle like the five-year-old he’d been when this had been a habit encouraged by their Mom. He could almost hear Scott’s eye roll at the requisite answer.
‘It is I - Sir Scott-a-lot.’
‘What do you want, Sir Scotty-lotty?’
‘Can I join you?’
‘Enter at your own peril!’
If course Scott entered, and he was carrying a peace offering in the form of two giant mugs of steaming coffee.
Virgil took the one offered him and sat on the couch, and Scott joined him. Nothing was said as they drank.
Calm once more descended and Virgil felt something shift in his chest.
Eventually Scott pulled out the tablet Virgil knew he’d have with him and settled down to write the report for the rescue, so Virgil left him to it and returned to the easel.
Without thinking about it charcoal flew over paper, and once he was happy with the image he picked up the coloured chalks and carried on.
Neither brother noticed the sun setting as they reorientated themselves around each other.
TBC
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sugar-fiend · 2 months
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Awwww guess who's finally back with a WIP Wednesday????
And all it took was being made to stay home sick with a fever -currently 39.2C - a terrible cough and flu like symptoms. Don't worry, I took a Covid test and it's negative (small blessings).
So this is from a one-shot fic that I started almost two years ago with my TAG OC @jade-tracy-is-go and her favourite Uncle.
Was feeling pretty down in the dumps, and then realised it was the anniversary of my Uncle's passing the other day, which really didn't help things, because he was always like a father-figure to me, and work never let me have the time off to fly back to Malaysia to say goodbye to him properly.. but some kind and gentle words from @gumnut-logic inspired me to pick this fic up again and write like a kind of tribute (and lawd, I feel I'm getting emotional just writing this atm - sorry) 💙
Anyways, here we are:
Blue-green eyes looked up with a mixture of emotions that looked almost all too familiar to Virgil. He offered a warm, calming smile in response. "Come on, kiddo. It won't be so bad, and it'll be over before you know it," Virgil gave a small chuckle and gestured over to one of the on-board medical beds. "I was talking about the stitches, by the way." To his relief, Jade responded with a forced, lop-sided grin and shuffled over to sit on the side of the med bay bed. At least she was better than her father in that respect. Virgil honestly could not count the number of times that he had to practically wrestle Scott into the med bay for treatment during or after a mission. Small victories.
Hope you liked the small snippet.
F.A.B. 💙
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lenna-z · 4 months
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Hii! This is a little something floating around in my mind, I hope you enjoy!
(I apologize in advance for any mistakes...)
"Canopus"
•••☆•••
People trusted them and as IR personnel, they took responsibility for those people's lives.
But then came the days when they could not save the lives for which they took responsibility.
Virgil was remembering his first one. He had told himself a million times that he should have been in that person's place.
He had created many scenarios in his mind to save that girl.
But it was too late for her...
He was also remembering Scott's first too. At that time, It was easy to be there for his brother and comfort him, until he had his own...
Gordon's first happened while he was there. While the people on the island were supposed to be taking care of Gordon, they were also comforting him.
Everyone who was comforting was saying the same thing, even if they didn't want to believe it, "You can't save everyone."
Although Virgil said this sentence to console him or his brothers, he didn't believe until his sister's first time... No one knew until John informed them that someone had died, and this was the day after it happened.
Years had passed for some, months had passed for some, but he didn't think anyone had forgotten their first.
Even their father said he felt guilty because they were left with this responsibility.
They would never have believed it if you had told them before, but they found their father and brought him back home. 
They were all doting over him as he tried to get used back to the gravity of the world.
Unfortunately, while everything was going well, the first loss of his youngest brother descended on the island like fog.
They all remembered what it was like to experience their first loss, but still, no one expected to see Alan like this.
So even though it was past two in the morning and he was just going to the kitchen to get a snack, he couldn't pass up the opportunity when he found Alan alone.
His brother was watching the stars on the terrace, with his arms folded across his chest.
Even though he wasn't outside, the coolness of the night was undeniable, so he grabbed a blanket from the living room and slowly walked towards his brother.
He could see him trembling slightly as he got closer to him, and it increased the anxiety in his chest.
He was taking his steps a little louder to let him know that he was approaching him.
"Hey, Allie."
He wasn't sure if he wanted to talk right now. He had every right if he wanted to be alone.
He relaxed a little when his dull eyes looked him up and down and slowly shifted to make room for him in his seat.
He gently placed the blanket on his brother's shoulders and sat down quietly on the spot he had opened for him.
He didn't intend to start the conversation, though, because he wasn't sure if he only wanted a quiet friend by his side.
So he joined him in stargazing and started looking for the constellations' he knew by heart.
"Dad said it might be good to talk to you."
Their father was happy to finally be there for them when they needed him, and he hadn't missed an opportunity to do so since he came home.
"So... do you want to talk?"
He hugged the blanket around his shoulders tighter and a tear rolled down one of his cheeks.
"Oh Alan-"
"How... How do you do this?" He took a deep breath. "How could you forget them, Virgil? Because- I- I can't stop thinking..."
His eyes were still on the sky. It was a familiar method of evasion, something they all did.
"Honestly Alan, it is not possible to forget them, I think we just... learn to live with this feeling."
He shook his head as his eyes looked down. "It was easier to comfort Gordon without knowing what this feeling was like."
He could guess what was going through his mind.
He was thinking if he had a chance to save that man.
He was thinking if the result would have been the same if he had done things differently.
And he was thinking about these things alone before he came home at noon...
"Do you remember what you said to Gordon that day, Alan?"
He was sure a lot had been said, but he hoped he would understand the point he was getting at and give the right answer.
He sniffed softly and looked at him. "You can't save everyone."
"Yeah, we can't save everyone, Alan."
He continued to shake his head in protest.
"He trusted me, Virgil. Even when he realized that he couldn't succeed, he didn't  blame me, he was still thanking me for risking my life for him... He- he had a family..."
He turned his head to the stars again.
"I should have saved him."
"Even if it didn't happen this time, it would happen one day, Alan... And if it wasn't that man, it would be someone else."
It could have been him. This is what Kayo experienced.
"This is the meaning of 'you can't save everyone', it's not just a saying hanging in the air."
He needed to understand this because unfortunately this wouldn't be his last.
"So after a while you get used to that feeling?"
"I remember the first time I lost someone like it was yesterday, Alan, and the one after that, and the one after that..."
And the fear of losing someone in rescues never went away.
"However, when I think about the people whose lives we saved...yeah, we can't save everyone and that's part of our lives."
You could see from his eyes that he was starting to understand something.
"So this feeling is still there..?"
He nodded quietly. "Like I said, you learn to live with it."
He always wished they didn't have to go through this, but nature had a law.
He looked better than when he first saw him, and he was glad that the conversation was doing some good.
"Do you think she's still proud of us?"
The question was unexpected. Involuntarily, when he too looked at the stars, he noticed where Alan was looking.
Canopus.
It was the brightest star visible from the island. John and Alan called it their mother's star because it was so bright.
Oh.
Of course.
He was looking at that star from the beginning.
"Of course she is, Alan. You remember what Dad said, right? Look at what we've achieved so far."
He turned to face him for eye contact because he needed him to believe it.
He turned to him with a sad smile and began to approach him with open arms.
Without a second thought, he returned the gesture and slid one arm around his waist, pulling him closer.
He was too wide for his arms to wrap around him, but he still hugged him tightly.
"Thank you, Virgil." His voice was muffled because he buried his face in his chest.
He turned his face to the sky again. It didn't take long for him to find the brightest star.
The star winked as if she understood him.
"Always brother, always."
•••☆•••
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phading · 2 months
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Thunderbirds Light!
I've been all about angst lately so I thought it was time to serve up a little palette cleanser ...
Part of Nutty's FAB-FIVE-FEB Challenge 2024: "Scott" and "quiet".
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whatgaviiformes · 5 months
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Trick or treat!!!
Hello Nonny! Happy Halloween! How about a little Earth & Sky?
“I don’t know how you do this.” At Virgil’s work desk, Scott floundered over the array of colored pencils spread across the fine mahogany.
From the neighboring easel, Virgil spun towards him, his black smock adorned with chaotic acrylic.
“Easy. Pick a color, place it point side down on the paper, and keep it in the lines,” he chuckled. But as Virgil came to a moment to step back from his own work, he walked up behind his older brother to glance over Scott’s shoulder. “What seems to be the problem?” he asked kindly, placing one hand on the back of his chair, while the other he rest on Scott’s shoulder to check for what tension was there.
“I don’t know what color to choose. You’re so good at knowing what works together.” The frown on his face reached his eyes – completely the opposite of Virgil’s goal in dragging him away from the office.
“Don’t try to be me.”
The idea came to him quickly, and he knew he had the perfect coloring book in one of his drawers if he could just find it. He had to shuffle through them, and naturally what he wanted was in the last one he checked, but afterward he triumphantly held up the alternative.
“What’s that?”
Virgil slid the elaborate image away from Scott and opened the new book up to the first page. “You’re a patterns guy. Try a mandala instead. Just start with a color and math it.” With a wink, Virgil turned back to his easel.  “I have faith in you.”
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WIP Wednesdaaaaaaaaay
As per winner here's a bit of 'Sand in your Eyes' (or sand in my eye. title not yet vibe checked) and poll for next week below <3
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“Do you suppose she told me about the ‘TEA’ that time and her special operative work on purpose?” Penelope had asked. She’d barely said anything on the matter. or any matter for that matter. not since- well. the bad news.
“Not just to pick up the TEA pot, I mean. Just…the timing of it…” She’d trailed off. Must unlike her ladyship. “I couldn’t say m’lady.” Parker replied. “Maybe p’haps her lady Sylvia thought you deserved the truth?”
“Hm. It’s nice to know it’s not just father and the fellows of the family with an exciting history.” Her Ladyship had said. and returning to staring at folder on new information on the Hood’s possible whereabouts. one she’d not turned the page of for nearly half an hour.
It was barely spoken of after that.
Parker had crossed the line at least a dozen times enquiring how she was feeling and was met with a polite but firm rebuff. He’d even overstepped his own line in the sand when he spontaneously tried to give her shoulder a comforting squeeze after a very hard day. But she’d tensed up to the point of being rigid, so he figured the gesture was unwelcome, and hadn’t tried it since.
All was forgiven after a cup of tea, but he never got any answers. He was more worried she didn’t have them for herself.
The Tracy’s and the team had kept in touch. The family had already sent their sympathies, along with care packages for each of them. Parker hadn’t asked what was in her ladyship’s, but he appreciated the beer and new driving playlists he’d received.   Alan Tracy had asked to fly out to London, along with Scott to visit. But something, and someone in need of saving, had come up. It seemed like everyone and their pet lizard need International Rescue’s help, and none of the islanders could catch a break.
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bit le sad soz. anyway-!
there is a lot of stingray options this week and i am not a bit sorry.
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waty-art · 7 months
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Fan Fiction?
Hello everyone! I love to write and would like to write a small fic to post if anyone would read it. Of course I’m new at posting Fan fiction so I might be a little nervous, but as you can see I am still trying to make a decision what fandom I should write about.😭
please, please, please vote if you want because I am truly at a loss. Thank you so much and have a wonderful day!❤️
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janetm74fics · 2 months
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Then several things happened at once.
Scott became aware that Kayo had turned pink and lowered her eyes…
John began laughing manically and Virgil had a strangled expression.
Alan let out a shrill scream and threw his arms up, one arm across his eyes and one stretched out against Scott.
Scott was suddenly acutely aware that he was naked. NAKED.
Full fic here
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hebuiltfive · 2 months
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HEBUILTFIVE TURNS ONE!?
I made this blog account a year ago today, which blows my mind (how has it already been a year???), and so I thought I'd post something to celebrate!
Before I made this account, I'd already started writing Thunderbirds Fanfiction. This story never got finished beyond the inital drafts, but I thought I'd share the first part of the first 'chapter' for the first birthday of this blog. It seemed fitting!
It is not great, oh my god it is terrible, and the science in it is awful, but! I hope it's at least a fun read! There is more of this that I might post at a later date, if I pluck up the courage, but for now...
International Rescue, We Have A Situation!
It was just a scratch. 
Gordon didn’t know what all the fuss was about, because yes, a fuss was being made, and much to his chagrin. So what if he’d had a little rendezvous with a pointy rock face? He’d survived, hadn’t he? He was convinced it wasn’t that bad of an injury, complaining the moment he’d been prodded and poked and examined. His older brother, the cause of the prodding, poking and examining, however, disagreed.
“Ow! Will you stop that?” Gordon was in two minds to just jump off the infirmary bed and pull his top back on, hiding the wound behind fabric to stop being tampered with. He knew it would have been pointless, however. His brother would have just stopped him dead in his tracks.
“Stop whining and stay still.” Virgil, the older brother who was currently tending to the gash down Gordon’s side, ordered. “You are, without doubt, the worst patient ever. And I’ve had to treat Scott.”
Scott Tracy, the eldest of the Tracy brothers, was notorious for being difficult in similar situations. Much like Gordon, he would have refused to admit that something was wrong, and would have insisted he was fine without the need for worry.
“No, you’re just being fussy.” Even as he said it, Gordon knew that hadn’t been a fair comment to make. Despite his moaning, he knew deep down that Virgil had every right to be fussing over him, even if he didn’t want to admit that to himself. 
He barely remembered the flight home, and even Gordon knew that was something to worry about. Though the aquanaut had insisted on staying in the co-pilot seat of Thunderbird 2, Gordon silently regretted not taking his older brother up on laying in one of the beds in the hold. 
The whole flight back his head had pounded, sharp pains lancing through even at the slightest of movements. No concussion, Virgil had declared after a quick check over, and no vital damage from where the aquanaut had collided with the rock face, their brother John had confirmed from a quick scan from Thunderbird 5. 
Thus, Gordon had been spared from Virgil’s mother-henning until they had arrived back on Tracy Island, whereupon he had been whisked away to the infirmary upon landing, and before their grandmother could worry. That was the last thing Gordon needed. Virgil, he could deal with. Grandmother Tracy was a whole other ballgame.
“That stings!” Gordon flinched as Virgil cleaned the wound. He’d been lucky it hadn’t been deeper. The force at which he’d collided with the rock face had been dangerous, or at least that’s what John had told him on the flight back. In all honesty, Gordon couldn’t remember most of it.
He remembered going out to Belize; a seaquake had caused a submersible to go off course. Full of scientists, it had developed a ruptured hull and was threatening to take on water. John had been worried the quake had been man-made and had warned both him and Virgil to be careful. From there, Gordon remembered going down in Thunderbird 4 to retrieve the scientists on board the submersible. He remembered being on the look out for any signs of unusual activity to suggest a man-made cause for the quake, and then… it got blurry. 
How exactly had he ended up outside of his ‘bird? What had caused him to crash into the rocks?
“Hey, Virg?”
Virgil hummed in response as he finished up on his brother’s wound, a go-ahead for Gordon to continue his question.
“What actually happened down there?”
His brother stepped away, taking the various used cotton pads, scissors and tape to the counter nearby Gordon’s bed to sort through. “You were flung into the rocks with quite some force.”
“Yeah, I gathered, but how did I end up outside Thunderbird 4?”
Virgil paused, glancing over his shoulder. “You don’t remember?”
In answer, Gordon shook his head, and pulled on his top now that Virgil had finally finished nursing the wound. From the way the aquanaut sat, casual and calm, anyone who didn’t know Gordon would assume he was unbothered by it, and that he was just curious, but Virgil knew his brother. He could see the confusion, see that he needed to know all elements of what went wrong down there so he could piece everything together for himself. If he couldn’t remember properly then perhaps his little brother had taken more of a hit than Virgil previously thought.
“The scientists were trapped. Thunderbird 4 couldn’t open the door properly, so you had to go out and manually wench it open.” The elder of the two began to explain, dropping the used items into the trashcan beside the counter, and putting the metal utensils into the sink for disinfection at a later date. He then made his way back to Gordon’s bedside. 
“It wasn’t supposed to be risky.” Virgil continued. “Well, not more so than usual. You had got them all out and into Thunderbird 4. You were about to get back in yourself when John warned us of an aftershock. You couldn’t get back inside in time, and that’s how you ended up dancing with the rocks.”
Gordon remembered it all then. It was Virgil’s yell through the comms that haunted his thoughts as the memory of the accident replayed. Stuck in the big ‘bird high above the sea, there was nothing his older brother could have done but wait as the radio silence from Gordon answered him. Pain lanced through the aquanaut’s side as the memory of the collision returned. He winced. “Did I find anything down there?”
“Other than the rocks?” Virgil joked. He wasn’t usually one for making light of injuries or accidents, but his little brother seemed like he could use the tension easing. It worked; Gordon cracked a smile. Virgil continued. “If you mean about it being man-made, no. There was nothing down there to suggest those quakes were anything but natural.”
“But John said—“
“John is like the rest of us, Squid. He doesn’t always get it right.”
Something didn’t sit well with Gordon, however. Just because there was something at the scene of the crime didn’t mean there was no further explanation to be had. It felt like there was a missing piece to the jigsaw that was laid out before him. A dull ache had him out of his thoughts in a heartbeat, hand gently pressing to the bandaged wound on his side.
“You’ll be out of action for a few days. I’m tempted to make it a week, just to be sure you’re healed.” Virgil decreed with a nod.
“What? A week? Virgil, no! I’m fine! You saw to the scratch. I can be back on duty by tomorrow.”
“That, little brother, is wishful thinking.” He ruffled the blonde tresses atop Gordon’s head, and made to leave the infirmary, calling back. “No heavy lifting or straining that side, bro, else I’ll have Grandma fix you up next time.”
No doubt with a batch of her famously indigestible cookies to help him ‘heal quicker’. It was enough to make Gordon shiver, and keep him in line.
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shirubie · 5 months
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What are the Tracys bad at?
Question for you Thunderfam: what do you think each Tracy is bad at? We all know this is a family of insanely talented overachievers, but is there an activity that each Tracy would just suck at? I'm not talking here about Scott and self-preservation or John versus Gravity: the eternal struggle, I'm thinking hobbies or sports or any mundane thing that they tried and were just not talented at. Did they try once and give up, or do they keep trying despite failing spectacularly each time (Grandma and cooking doesn't count, we know that one)?
Just tell me what you think!
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alexthefly · 5 months
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Trick or Treat! 🎃
Not my best work, but here's a little something in honour of the scariest night of the year. (Spoilers for S3 Ep 23: Venom)
Fear wasn’t something that was encouraged in International Rescue. There was no time for fear when you were in the middle of a rescue. Fear was a weakness. Fear was trouble.
Fear got people killed.
But as much as certain tabloids might like to imply otherwise, they were all still human (EOS aside of course) and humans are not always rational about these kinds of things. And anyway, they were family. So rather than making each other feel bad, the best thing to do in this situation was clearly to be supportive and not make a big deal about it…
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janetm74 · 14 days
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crack pairing: Kip Harris and Great Aunt Sylvia :D
Angel
Kip Harris sat on a bench munching on his Reuben. He was waiting.
Waiting for her.
She was the one thing that kept him visiting this park every lunchtime in the hope of seeing her again.
He loved a woman who was an enigma.
The Englishwoman who wore 1960’s outfits with red lipstick and amazing boots and a blonde pixie-cut hair and bright blue eyes.
She wasn’t here every day. Not even every week. He didn’t even know her name.
But Kip was smitten and so Kip waited.
And waited.
And waited.
He put the remains of the sandwich in the wrapper and picked up the apple. It was a red one and he shined it on his fireman’s top. He looked around but there was no one so he prepared to take a bite.
‘Is this seat taken?’
And Kip’s face lit up as she sat beside him, almost close enough to touch but not quite. Not quite
He handed her the apple and she took the daintiest bite before handing it back.
‘I am heading back to England tomorrow. To marry a man I have been promised to since I was four.’
Kip paused, apple in hand.
‘I just want you to know that I have loved every second of every lunchtime with you.’
She stood and held out her hand. Kip stood and shook it.
‘Goodbye, Kipling Harris.’ ‘Goodbye, Angel.’
Her silvery laugh hung in the air as he watched her walk away. 'My name is Sylvia,' floated on the breeze behind the laugh.
He’d never love another woman like her. Not in a million years.
(Or not until decades later when one Sally Tracy caught his eye…)
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