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phading · 12 days

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Another lovely Scott Virgil interaction. Simple moments, complex emotion.

Raindrops

This was sparked by a prompt from the wonderful @womble1 :

Falling asleep on a balcony and getting woken up by rain.

It is rather random and fluffy with just a touch of hurt, with lots of comfort. Earth and Sky, big and not so big brothers.

Many thanks to the amazing @onereyofstarlight for reading through a one shot that should have taken a couple of hours, but since I didn't have a couple of hours, took three days instead, so was read through twice. You are so kind to me.

The first bit of this was posted in the last few days for WIP Wendesday, but there is plenty more after those little bits. Sky had a mind of his own and took over the fic.

I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

“Virgil.”

Something tickled his nose.

“Virgil.”

Something wet landed on his cheek. Another followed it. And another.

“Virgil!”

“Wha-?”

“Virgil, there is a weather system tracking across the Island, you might want to go inside.” John’s voice was achingly patient.

Virgil, sprawled across a lounger on the residential balcony, blinked only to have water land in his eyes. A blurry hesitation and the decking beside him took up percussion as rain swept in with its full tropical intentions.

The weather changed faster than Virgil’s brain could boot from a dead sleep. So when he leapt up, his faculties were not at full function.

Fortunately, he was well practised at moving fast with zero thought.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t usually on a wet balcony in the rain, and a misplaced foot hampered by a moonboot was enough to send him reeling.

He was faced with the split-second realisation that he was going to fall and there was nothing he could do about it. Gravity took over and he was going down.

Except he wasn’t the fastest moving person in the house.

“Woah! I’ve got you!” Two familiar and strong arms wrapped around him, preventing yet another collision with something hard..

After all, that was how he ended up with the broken foot in the first place.

“I’ve got you.” The repetition was as reassuring as it was annoying. “Are you okay?’

Virgil looked up at his brother. The rain was really coming down now and Scott’s hair was beginning to drip into his eyes. Worried eyes, damnit.

“I’m f-“ The ‘ine’ was stolen by a sudden clap of thunder. What the hell?

Scott shook his head and lifting Virgil’s arm around his shoulder, hurried him into the safety of the residential villa.

Stepping out of the rain was a relief. Tropical rain was a species all of its own, heavy, sudden, and determined.

“Sorry, guys, I should have used an airhorn.” John’s voice bounced down from orbit with exasperation.

Virgil grunted at that, not entirely in disagreement, but not willing to give in, or to use the brain cells required for a comprehensible response.

“Or perhaps alerted us earlier.” Scott’s voice was disapproving.

Virgil sighed. Scott was still in post ‘brother trying to get himself killed’ alert mode. “It was a little rain.” He was pointedly ignoring the waterfall on the glass windows. “It wasn’t going to kill me. John’s busy. Let him have a life.”

“He’s right, Virgil. I should have woken you earlier. Or alerted Scott earlier.”

“What?” He really didn’t have the energy for an argument. “Whatever. I’m going to bed. Thanks for the save.” He pulled away gently from his big brother and stepped in the direction of his rooms.

Only to lose his balance again and nearly land on his face.

But, of course, big hero brother swooped in and caught him. “Take it easy.” Again with the arm around Scott’s shoulder and ignoring Virgil’s half-assed protest, his big brother began helping him towards his rooms.

“You know I can walk.”

Scott sighed. “I’m basing my decision on your last two attempts. You don’t get a third to try and break yourself further.”

Virgil grunted, annoyed at himself more than anything else.

They hobbled their way through Virgil’s door and into his living space. “Couch or bed?” Scott’s eyes bounced between the two options before latching onto Virgil himself.

“Bed.” He had been asleep because he was tired. “Want to finish what I started.”

“FAB.”

There was some more hobbling, this time through his bedroom door, and finally, his brother lowered him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Sit there for a second and I’ll go grab a towel.”

It was only then that Virgil realised his hair was dripping into his eyes and was much to blame for the blurriness of his vision.

“Here you go.” Scott emerged from the bathroom with a handful of towel. But instead of handing it to him, he made an attempt to wipe Virgil down himself.

Apparently, the laser beams shooting out of Virgil’s eyes must have missed their mark, or been completely obliterated by Scott dumping the towel on Virgil’s head and drying his hair.

Virgil waved his hands about, trying to swipe his big brother away, “You do know I’m a grown up.”

Scott wasn’t fazed. “Sure do.” The towel was rubbed through Virgil’s hair, haystacking it, down his neck, and wrapped around so Scott could wipe his face dry.

“Scott-!” The towel muffled the rest of his protest.

“What?” Scott had finished his face and started on his shoulders, but he frowned, tossed the towel aside and began unbuttoning Virgil’s wet linen shirt.

That was enough. Virgil caught his brother’s hands and held them still, glaring up at his older brother. “What are you doing?”

Blue honesty shone back at him. “You’re wet.”

“I am fully capable of looking after myself.”

“Of course you are.” A twist of his lips. “When you’re awake.”

“I am awake.”

“That is up for debate.” Scott sighed and sat down in the chair beside Virgil’s bed. “Fine. Be my guest.”

When did that chair get there? That chair wasn’t usually there, but on the other side of the room.

He sat there pondering the fact for the moment.

“Virgil?” A hand waved in front of his eyes.

Virgil whacked it.

“Ow.”

“You earned that.” Virgil undid the remaining buttons and shucked the linen shirt off his shoulders. Of course, every bruise bitched at him for it, but he was determined not to show any reaction.

He didn’t miss his big brother’s eyes landing on those bruises, though.

“Scott, it wasn’t your fault. Shit sometimes just happens.”

Quiet. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.” But his eyes were still tracking over Virgil’s chest.

“If you don’t stop that, I’m putting the damned shirt back on.” Or grabbing another one. He pushed himself to his feet and carefully, and stubbornly, made his way over to his dresser. He shoved open a drawer and dug out an old t-shirt. He threw it on, not even bothering to towel himself dry.

He leant on the cabinet a moment, back to his brother, ever so aware of the eyes still tracking him. “Scott-“

“I want to help you.”

It was said calmly, but with just that hint of Commander combined with worried big brother desperate to make amends.

Virgil turned slowly. “Scott-“

His brother shot to his feet and stepped into Virgil’s personal space. A hand landed on Virgil’s arm, his other…hovered a moment before resting on his opposite shoulder. Blue eyes pinned Virgil where he stood. “I couldn’t prevent it. It was my responsibility to look after you, and I couldn’t. The least I can do is look after you now.”

Virgil’s heart hurt. “You look after us plenty, Scott. I’m going to be okay, I promise.”

His brother’s head dropped a moment, looking at his feet. “I know. Just…” He looked up with a crooked bit of a smile. “Let me help you.”

Virgil stared at him some more, worry gnawing at the edges of the fog that was his brain. “Okay.”

Those hands squeezed gently, before one let go and brushed the wet hair out of his eyes.

Scott stared at him a moment longer before pulling him into a hug. His brother didn’t say anything, but he did have his own set of muscles quite capable of squeezing tight.

I’m sorry. It wasn’t said, but it was communicated, nevertheless.

Virgil let out a breath and, wrapping his arms around Scott, rested his head against his big brother’s shoulder. There was nothing he could say to make it better. That was clear enough.

Scott needed to do this.

It wasn’t his fault. Perhaps intellectually he knew that. Emotionally was entirely a different matter.

Virgil had a thought and pulled away, just a little. “You wanna sit and watch the rain with me? I could grab that Scotch Gordy thinks he is hiding.”

Blue shone in the dim light. “Sounds good.” And there was the soft smile Virgil was seeking. “Gordon is going to be…upset.”

Virgil straightened. “He owes me well into the next decade, I’m calling it in.”

“He’ll make you suffer.”

Virgil carefully hobbled over to his bathroom and grabbed another towel to finish wiping himself down. “That is nothing new.” A sigh. “I’ll buy him some more on the next supply run. Top it up with a few of his favourites. He’ll be fine.” And to be honest, if Virgil divulged to Gordon why he was stealing it, he was sure his brother would eagerly donate to the cause.

After all, they all loved their big brother.

Virgil chucked the towel aside and held out a hand. “Help me back down to the balcony?”

Those blue eyes stared at his for a moment before taking his hand and gripping tight.

“Sure.”

-o-o-o-

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

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phading · 12 days

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Scotty's temper almost unleashed. This is an awesome read!

Angry

This was actually the second thing I ever wrote. It's been sitting around on my drive for a while without an ending, so I finally went through it and gave it one just to call it finished. There's a bit of swearing in it, but that's about all. (Notes at the end if you want to hear more of the thought process!) Here's Scott and Virgil! ------------------------------------- "Virgil, you need to get over there now. Scott's angry." John's voice has a frantic edge to it over the comm, and a location immediately flashed up on Virgil's HUD.

"How angry?" Virgil asked, doing an about turn and marching toward the icon depicting his big brother.

"Oh shit. He just got Kansas angry."

"Shit!" Virgil's purposeful march instantly transformed into an all-out sprint.

None of them had Kansas accents. The younger two hadn't been there long enough to get them. John had, though it had never been strong and he'd lost it pretty quickly. The older two though; they'd had elocution lessons when their father had started to make a name for himself.

"People don't take you seriously if you've got a strong accent," he'd say. "I want them to listen to what you're saying, not how you're saying it." To be fair, the great Jeff Tracy himself had sat through the lessons too. It had been strange to hear him switch between his usual casual voice at home and the commanding well-spoken voice he used in board meetings.

Their father had never lost his accent, he just turned it on and off. The brothers though; they had. The lessons had created an accent that had become their own. Scott now spoke as commandingly as their father as naturally as if he'd always spoken that way. Unless he was beyond angry.

Then the words would start to slip. Just here and there, probably not enough to notice unless you were listening for it.

John listened for it, because on the very rare occasion it happened he knew Scott was beyond being talked down over the airwaves, (certainly it seemed like he just couldn't hear his space-brother anymore,) beyond seeing the bigger PR picture (it had been especially fun the day a reporter had been on the receiving end of "The Accent"), and a step away from just letting his temper fly and punching whoever it was that had gotten him so worked up.

As soon as he heard Scott reverting to his childhood words, he knew there were only minutes to get to him before some idiot was laid out.

Virgil skidded around a building to see Scott bellowing at a man in a suit. He was staring levelly at Scott, his clothes and hair pristine in contrast to the Commander's dust streaked and grimy appearance. From a distance it did make Scott look like the unreasonable one, even though Virgil knew he wouldn't have gotten so worked up without reason.

His helmet was dangling in one hand, but John would have had no trouble hearing every word through its radio at that volume.

He didn't know what Scott had just finished ranting about (from the nature of the rescue he could probably guess; valuing money over human lives) but the diatribe ended with:

"Well? Want to tell me what you think about that?!"

Just keep your mouth shut! Virgil thought as he gritted his teeth and pushed to close the last fifty metres to his brother. He didn't actually think the man would. They never did. They always seemed to think the IR blue guaranteed their safety. Well, that technically was the point of the uniform, but the people wearing it were still human and even the most patient of them had limits.

Scott was not, in any way, shape or form,the most patient of them.

The suit responded, his voice too calm, too reasonable for Virgil to hear what he said. But whatever it was, that was the straw that broke the camel's back. He saw his brother's posture shift; six foot plus of solid muscle being tensed, his arm being drawn back.

Virgil all but barreled into him, grabbing his arm and pulling him back.

"Commander! We have a situation, you're needed immediately!" He snapped out between ragged breaths. (Could have done without that sprint right after that rescue, uhh, he needed a lie down.)

He could feel the tension of Scott's muscles under his fingers, could hear him breathing through gritted teeth. A breath, two, three. The tension started to ease.

The suit had thankfully stayed silent, eyes wide in confusion and alarm, though whether it was because he'd realised he was about to be punched or whether it had been Virgil's rather unorthodox entrance that had startled him, he wasn't sure.

"Apologies Mr…?"

"Smithe-Johnson"

"Mr Smithe-Johnson," Virgil even managed a weak smile. "We have to leave now, but our associate will be in touch in the near future." He had no doubt that John was already trawling through this man's business records and he was likely to have some sudden woes in his future if he was endangering anyone else.

"Yes, well. No need. As I was explaining to your Commander here, we don't need any publicity of this kind. Just an unfortunate incident-"

Virgil felt Scott tense again and quickly replied:

"I'm sure. But it's standard procedure to follow up all incidents. Completely normal and just a formality in most cases, I'm sure you understand." He had started to drag Scott away as he spoke. Scott didn't seem to notice, his eyes firmly fixed in fury on Smithe-Johnson.

"Right. Well I'll have my secretary prepare a report." Smithe-Johnson's brow was furrowed as he watched the two IR operatives back away.

"Great. Well, goodbye," then under his breath; "come on Scott."

Scott finally turned away from the source of his rage and stomped alongside Virgil, fists clenched at his sides, and his eyes fixed in a thousand-mile glare. He only snapped out of his internal seething when he became aware of Two's VTOLs rumbling to life below him.

"Virgil? Why am I here?"

"That's a big question, bro." Virgil calmly checked his flight path and swung Two's nose for home. "Why are any of us here?"

"Why are you flying me home?" Scott snapped. "Where's One?"

"I'm flying you home because John launched One five minutes ago and you were so caught up in your own head you didn't even notice."

Silence for a few moments then:

"Oh."

"Yes, “oh.”" Virgil sighed. "Not gotten that angry since-”

“Yeah, I know.” Scott didn't need to be reminded of the art gallery incident again. There were several seconds of silence where he tried not to say it. He shouldn't say it. Virgil would do The Sigh if he said it. But no, he was still angry and he couldn't hold the thought in any longer. “He deserved it.” It was mumbled under his breath in the hope his brother wouldn't hear it.

Virgil sighed.

“So why this one, any more than any other greedy idiot we deal with? You meet all kinds of people out for themselves, people that get others hurt and manage to keep your temper. Why not this time?”

Scott shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“It doesn't matter.”

Virgil turned and stared at him.

“Look where you're flying.”

He got an eye roll for that.

“Fine. He didn't talk to me as the Commander of International Rescue, but as the head of Tracy Industries.”

“... And?”

“He asked me the cost ratio of running IR against the positive PR and the way it could deflect from scrutiny of TI. When I clarified that we do not cut corners at TI and that we consider it our duty to run operations safely and a core principle to treat our employees with respect… he implied that we might but there was no way Dad grew the business as quickly as he did by paying people fairly and sticking to good practice.”

Virgil felt himself bristle at that.

“Then he actually asked me for a meeting, to talk business and offered his services for identifying cost cutting measures at TI.” Scott unconsciously curled his fists.

“Wow,” Virgil stated flatly.

“Then he went on to thank me for getting everyone out, because it would have been expensive to have to train up new people…”

Virgil's eyebrows raised in disbelief. He knew a lot of business people thought it, but it was rare for them to outright state it.

“... And could we keep it out of the news, because although he understood it would be good PR for us that you nearly died getting his people out, it would impact his business negatively.”

“I didn't “nearly die,”” Virgil snorted. “I was out well before that roof came down.”

“Yeah, well, he didn't care. He thought I'd use my brother being injured or killed as a business promotion.”

“Okay yeah. He deserved a punch,” Virgil admitted.

“Thank you,” Scott seemed to relax a bit at Virgil agreeing with him.

“But you didn’t deserve it.”

“I didn’t deserve what? Being punched?” Scott frowned at him in confusion.

“No, I mean you didn’t deserve the fall out from punching the guy. Bad press, lawsuit-”

“John would have sorted it out.”

“-sore hand.” Virgil smiled pointedly. “And John doesn’t deserve the extra work.”

“Hmm.”

“Come on; the rescue was a success. We’ll drag the spaceman down, get everyone together for a movie.”

“That’d be nice,” Scott agreed distractedly.

Virgil hit the autopilot and got out of his chair to give his big brother a bone-crushing hug. “Hey, Virgil!” Scott protested, face smothered by his shoulder.

Virgil let go and dropped back into his seat with a smile.

“Are you trying to suffocate me?”

Virgil just laughed.

“What movie do you want to watch later?”

Scott finally gave a half-hearted smile.

“Don’t know.”

“Well you’ve got until we get home to decide, else Gordon will remember it’s his turn to choose.”

The talk fell into easy banter after that, but Virgil knew the moment that they got home Scott would seek out every sibling to reassure himself they were all okay, and only then when the stress was forgotten, would his accent completely vanish once more.

--------------------------------------- This was inspired by the fact that the people I know with regional accents have their accents get stronger when they are worked up about something. (Like some news from home made them annoyed they rant about it in a much stronger accent than they would normally use.) I also wanted to reconcile the huge difference in the way that Jeff talks in TOS and TAG. So now he talks both ways. ;P

Since this was just a little story about an accent getting stronger, I thought that would be all, but then I got thinking about how the bros react to anger - Scott lashes out; would the others? And so a story about Virgil being super angry got written. Then one about John being angry. Then Gordon. Haven't done Alan's yet, but I figure I need to complete the five!

So I will post the other stories - this week? One a day? Not sure, as I'm happy Virgil and John are finished, but Gordon's might use a bit of editing and Alan isn't even there yet. We'll see. Hope you enjoy! :)

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #thunderfam

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phading · 13 days

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Perfect moments with John and Virgil.

John found him in module two.

His second eldest brother was sitting beside the pod, pieces of it spread around him, staring at nothing.

John leant against the hatchway and quietly watched him. From the moment Grandma had reported the avalanche, John knew he would have to come home tonight. Avalanche rescues always messed with the family, particularly Scott and Virgil. He would be lying if he said they didn’t affect him, but he wasn’t boots on ground. He didn’t have to watch that wave of white bearing down on those he loved.

He hadn’t been the one there on that fateful day.

Virgil wore a frown as if he was glaring at something or someone John couldn’t see.

John had already checked in on Scott...on the other side of the Island and still moving. He’d be out running for a while and likely would come back and give the gym a work out.

Virgil was more subtle. He tended to pound the piano or vanish into his studio. On the rare occasion he could be found beside Scott either pummelling a sandbag or his brother on the spar mat. To find him here was a little odd.

“I’m okay, John.” Those eyes were suddenly fixed on the astronaut. “How’s Gordon?”

He pushed himself off the hatchway and entered the module. His spacesuited feet hardly made a sound. “He’s as well as can be expected. He’s with Alan.” A few more silent footsteps and John sat down quietly beside his brother. “What are you doing?”

His brother reached down and picked up a piece of pod mechanics. “Just checking the system after today’s rescue.”

John eyed exactly what Virgil had pulled apart. He was pretty sure it was the side of the module that hadn’t been used...and the same he and Scott had finished maintenance on that morning.

Busywork?

“I’m okay, John. You don’t need to worry.”

“Worry is my business.”

Brown eyes glanced up at him. “I thought that was in Scott’s portfolio.”

“Different perspective.”

Virgil arched an eyebrow before picking up another piece of pod and shoving it into the storage case. Several more pieces followed with no further attempt at conversation.

“Alan said you were grumpy for most of the day.”

That did it. His usually quiet brother flared up like a snake prodded with a hot poker. “He did, did he? Did he also tell you that he has turned Max into his personal slave so he can sit on his butt and watch videos while the rest of us work our asses off?”

“Not in so many words, no.” Calm and considered.

It succeeded. Virgil deflated. “No, he wouldn’t.” His brother returned to shifting around mechanical parts.

“How is Scott?”

His brother froze. “How do you think he is. Alan was nearly buried in an avalanche. I expect to be repairing gym equipment tomorrow.” Virgil stood up and put his back into moving the equipment into the locker.

“No one was injured. We’re all safe.”

“Yes, we are.” A chunk of pod landed on the module floor with a massive clang and Virgil swore.

Reaching down, John picked up the piece of machinery and, standing, held it out to his brother. Virgil looked at him with sad eyes. “Thank you.” It was taken from his hand and stashed beside its siblings.

“Gordon was very impressed.”

Virgil paused a moment, but then returned to shifting equipment. “With what?”

“With you.”

That was enough to stop him. “Gordon?”

John struggled to hold back a smile. “In his words...’Oh my god, yeeeah! Go Virg!’”

Virgil blinked at him and John could no longer hold back the grin. “Can’t say I wasn’t impressed myself.”

He watched his brother fight the urge to smile. “The new grapple gun performed well.”

John rolled his eyes. “You performed well, Virgil. There is no harm in taking credit where it is due.”

“I’m just glad I got Alan off the side of that mountain.” And the glum was back.

John sighed to himself as Virgil shut the equipment locker. “What is it, Virgil? What’s bugging you? Because all I can see is a successful rescue with a great outcome.”

His brother rounded on him. “It was pure chance, John. So damn close and it shouldn’t have been!” Virgil’s eyes flared at him in anger, but not at John, but...

At himself.

“How?”

Virgil’s brows knotted even more. “I knew that mountain was coming down. I had sensors on it. I was sitting there waiting with nothing else to do but stare at the damn thing, and it still caught me by surprise!” Virgil shoved the locker against the wall with a bang. John blinked at the strength his brother wielded. “There shouldn’t have been a dramatic rescue, I should have been there already!” Virgil turned away. “Alan and Brandon could have died because I wasn’t on the ball.”

John stared at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

The glare Virgil shot him was enough to flay him alive. “Do I look like I have a sense of humour right now?”

“Virgil-“

But his brother wasn’t finished. “We can have all the equipment in the world and it won’t mean jack shit if I’m not good enough to deploy it in time.”

“Virgil-“

“And Alan. We could have lost Alan. I-I can’t...not like Mom, please not like Mom.”

John’s eyes widened. “Virgil, take a breath. He’s okay. We’re all okay.”

Brown eyes stared up at him. “I fucked up so bad.”

John reached over and took his brother by his shoulders. “Virgil! How can you possibly say that? Did you see what you did?”

“I saw exactly what I did. Why wasn’t I airborne sooner? Why did I wait until the vibration sensor was in MOTION before making a move? It was seconds, John, seconds. I didn’t think I was going to make it. They could have been buried alive.” Like Mom.

That last might as well have been shouted with the rest.

“But they weren’t”

“Pure luck.”

“No! Virgil Tracy! You were on the scene. You were there. There was no way anything was going to happen to either of them with you in play, Virgil. You know this. I know this. I have seen you face far more than a falling mountain. It didn’t stand a chance.”

“John-“

“You listen to me. I know you. I watch you day in and day out. I may be twenty-two thousand kilometres away, but I am with you every step every rescue and, goddamnit, Virgil, those seconds may well have been hours for all they mattered.” He glared at his brother. “How many times have you sat back in a situation, watching, only to step in and save the day when it most counts? You sit there quietly, calculating, planning, knowing exactly when to intervene. You are our rock, Virgil. Solid, dependable and inevitable. And god forbid anything gets in your way once you get moving.”

John’s lips were tight and his heart thudding. Virgil stood staring at him, eyes wide.

Quietly. “When I’m so far above and someone is screaming, you are the hands I reach out to catch them with. I trust those hands with so many lives, Virgil. So many people calling for help and I have no need for faith because I KNOW you will do everything you can. Just like you did today.” A breath. “Don’t doubt yourself. I never have.”

He let his brother go and straightened.

Virgil was still staring at him. It wasn’t often John put so much into words, but the self-doubt in his brother’s eyes just demanded it. Perhaps it would have enough impact to sink in.

In the meantime, back to basics.

“Have you eaten?”

Virgil blinked. “What?”

Obviously not.

“Food, Virgil. Fuel for your engine.”

“Oh, uh...”

“I didn’t think so. C’mon, big brother, sustenance will help change your perspective.” John grabbed Virgil’s arm and nudged him in the direction of the module hatchway. Still staring, Virgil did as he was told.

“I’m the big brother, John.”

“Yeah? Well, sometimes big brothers need corralling as much as younger brothers. I thought you’d understand that with Scott on your radar so much.”

Virgil blinked. “I see your point.”

John held onto Virgil the entire elevator ride up to the residential levels. He didn’t let go until his brother was seated at the kitchen table. The acquisition of a simple sandwich and John plopped both the food and himself down in front of Virgil. “Now eat.”

“Are you going to watch my every bite?” A definite frown was forming like a storm cell on his brother’s brow.

“No, I’m just going to sit here and enjoy your company.” A thought. “Might even have a beer. You want one?” He stood up again and rummaged in the fridge.

Another blink. “Aren’t you going back up tonight? Doesn’t Brains need you?”

“No, I have more important things to attend to down here.” Ooh, some of Scott’s boutique beer. He eyed the label. Expensive boutique beer. It would do the job. Two bottles landed on the table.

“You know they are Scott’s.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Your funeral, I guess.”

“He’ll survive. Eat your sandwich.”

Virgil was staring at him again.

John sighed. “Is it really so shocking that I care about you?”

“No! It’s just...” Virgil’s shoulders settled a little. “Thank you, John.”

“No thanks needed, just trust yourself a little more.” He pinned his brother with his eyes. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Now eat your sandwich.”

John held back a smile when Virgil immediately bit into his bread.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #john tracy #virgil tracy #avalanche #nuttyfic reblog #episode tag #brothers

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phading · 16 days

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OMG thank you!! Crossover made in heaven! Dragonriders of Pern is absolutely one of the best sci fi series of YA books ever and fits perfectly with Thunderbirds. Hoping to see so much more of this AU!

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Left Standing

The three brothers standing together, united in concern, as they looked over the hatching ground.

Their concern was not for their youngest brother, hoping to emulate his two older brothers who had impressed dragons at their first attempt, but for their eldest brother who had been a candidate twice but had been left bereft each time rejected by every hatchling.

"How do you think he'll react?" the only non-dragonrider asked

"If Allie impresses he'll be torn, happy for Allie but still wishing it was him instead"

The sadness in the voice, of the blue rider, only tempered by hope for the youngster on the hatching ground.

"If Allie doesn't impress he'll be just as torn, wanting to help Allie deal with the pain of rejection but perversely glad that he's not the only one of us to fail"

The matter ot fact tone of the brown rider's verdict barely masked the concern he felt for both siblings at the edge of hatching ground - one a candidate, the other a reluctant obverver.

Scott really didn't want to be here at today's hatching, but he had no real choice. Alan was finally (just) old enough to stand as a candidate, Scott could never deny his brother the chance to follow his dreams (even if it took his final brother away from him).

He'd been a candidate before and had been left standing twice as his 2 younger brothers both impressed at their first attempt.

John was now the rider of brown Giseth whilst Virgil had impressed blue Somurth. Scott still couldn't get used to their new Dragonrider names (J'on and V'gil), he was proud of both of them even though he still felt that he should have impressed as well.

Out of the five brothers only Gordon had turned away from the possibility of standing as a candidate for a dragon, he had chosen to try to become one of the new dolphineers instead, unable to resist the call of the sea.

Even though he would never admit it, even to himself, Scott was envious of his brothers, they knew what their futures held whilst all he had left was the knowledge that he'd failed to find his own path, the object of his dreams forever out of his reach as no dragon had chosen him (He wasn't going to stand again - he couldn't face the shame of being rejected by all the hatchlings for a third time)

The increase in intensity of the draconic hum brought Scott's attention firmly onto the scene at the hatching ground. The hopeful candidates, including his youngest brother, all nervously watching the 30 rocking eggs. All wondering which would hatch first, who would impress, who would be left standing.

Alan almost jumped as the first egg split with an audible 'crack', all the observers breathed a sigh of relief as the young dragonet streatched his long bronze neck before rushing towards his chosen mate.

A flurry of eggs cracked almost simultaneously, 3 browns, 3 blues and 5 greens all pushing their way past Alan on their way to their mates. The 2 bronzes in that flurry were a little more deliberate in their choices, chosing the boys either side on Alan.

A brief calm before the next flurry of eggs cracked, this time a small bronze discarded every other candidate before homing in on an ecstatic Alan, the watching siblings unable to hold back their cheers at the success of their baby brother, despite their concern about the reaction of eldest.

Scott watched as his youngest brother impressed, his head cheered for his brother's success while his heart broke.

His youngest brother had succeeded where he had failed, Scott now had to return home alone, what was his purpose now? His blind spot had always been his brothers, their needs and concerns always superseding his own dreams.

Scott turned to make his way out of the hatching ground, he couldn't let his melancholy affect the post hatching celebrations, the successful candidates deserved better than the failure that he'd become.

He didn't get far before he felt an overwhelming feeling of hunger, he didn't think that he'd ever felt so hungry before.

How could he suddenly feel so hungry?

Surely he hadn't forgotten to eat again, it wouldn't have been the first time but he was sure that he'd had breakfast - hadn't he?

"Scott"

He didn't turn at the sound of V'gils' voice, too lost in his feelings of failure and hunger to respond.

"Scott!"

He couldn't bring himself to respond to J'on either, he couldn't bear to face their sympathy - he didn't deserve it.

"SCOTT!"

He couldn't ignore Gordon's shout, why couldn't he be left alone with his misery?

He looked up towards his brothers standing on the upper edge

"What?"

The three brothers just smiled to each other before speaking at the same time

"Turn round"

Scott just shook his head, what game were they playing with him this time, was he to be in the receiving end of another (final) family joke.

"I'd better humour them" he thought to himself as he turned round

and came face to face with

"Don't you want me?"

Scott shook his head unwilling to believe the vision before him

"I'm hungry, don't you want me?"

Scott struggled to believe the voice in his head, the voice that belonged to the bronze hatchling that was before his eyes.

Scott dropped to his knees as he reached out towards the dragonet, the dragonet who had chosen him.

"I am yours"

Scott managed to say through tears of joy

"You are mine"

Every dragon and many of the riders heard the young dragon's determined statement

Scott met the eyes of his watching brothers before stating "His name is Lucenth"

#thunderbirds #dragonriders of pern #thunderbirds fanfiction #tasam1075 #crossover #AU #thunderfam #thunderbirds are go

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phading · 22 days

Text

Hey, Thunderfam, anyone else in Canada?

#thunderfam #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #canada #canadian

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phading · 22 days

Text

Problem Solved! If anyone’s curious, I ended up with the good old dependable [SHIFT] [RETURN] in Word and the Bookmark option in AO3 RTF. Worked wonderfully for the quoted poetry I wanted to highlight.

Original question: Can someone tell me, In Word, how do I insert blocks of text that will be indented and single spaced in AO3's RTF (rich text format)?

#thunderfam #ao3 formatting

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phading · 25 days

Text

FAB FLUFF! Plushies perfection! And so many heartwarming brotherly sentiments. Kudos, Nutty!

Scott was ever so tired, but when John requested he not return Thunderbird One to her hangar, but instead nest her up with Two, he had to do as his brother asked.

John’s reasoning didn’t involve words, just a photo that had Scott hitting the brakes over Tonga and gliding in as quietly as he could.

The fact Virgil was behind him only had him waiting longer as the cargo ship needed to touch down before One could park securely. After all, the whole reason they hid the Thunderbirds like they did on their deserted Island was to protect them from accidentally being seen. There were holographic shields and security networks galore protecting the Island, but ultimately, if a fishing boat either wandered in or needed safety, it was a good idea to keep the Thunderbirds much less than obvious.

In summary, they didn’t tend to leave the sports car on the lawn for the neighbourhood to gawk at.

So instead, Scott set One to hover a respectful distance away while he waited for Two to catch up.

And try not to fall asleep in his pilot’s chair.

Fortunately, Virgil wasn’t as far behind as he could have been and the green behemoth soon appeared on One’s sensors. Scott stared as his younger brother glided in under minimal power and set down with a short spurt of VTOL in a rather impressive manoeuvre. It was the closest to landing silently that Two could probably get.

Scott let One follow almost immediately. She wasn’t as quiet as Two, the fact she had had to hover removing any chance at a glide out of the equation.

In any case, he slipped One in behind her sister and stashed her in the massive hangar so Two could still deploy if necessary and One could as well, albeit a touch slower than usual.

But considering her pilot was a zombie, it wouldn’t matter for another eight hours at least.

Climbing out, he met an equally tired Virgil and they plodded to the elevator together, drowning their exhaustion in the showers, and throwing on pyjamas that Grandma had obviously left out for them.

Scott’s t-shirt had the slogan on the front ‘Born to fly’, which he found appropriate, but the shirt having come from Gordon, the back followed up with ‘Farts in the sky’.

But he was too tired to care right now. Shoving it on and pulling the pants up over aching hips - he really shouldn’t have jumped from that cliff – he stretched to finally get any of the remaining kinks out of his system.

Only to find Virgil wearing a slightly too small t-shirt also obviously of the Gordon purchase pile that pectorally declared, ‘Warning: Do not decaffeinate, may decapitate’.

Well, perhaps, Gordon did have a point there.

Scott sighed. “Want to check on them?”

Virgil’s answer was only an eyebrow, but it clearly declared Scott an idiot for asking such a stupid question.

That ended all energy for future verbalisation and, finishing up, Virgil fell into step beside Scott as he headed off towards the lounge.

Because Allie was in the lounge.

And Allie was injured.

That fact, that entire concept, cut into Scott’s gut like a blunted knife.

John’s frantic yell the week before had aged the commander several years in a matter of seconds. Allie had been up helping a space freighter that had lost power and was in the process of losing orbit along with it. It should have been simple, but some high-speed space trash had collided with the vessel while Alan was out repairing broken electronics.

His suit had been compromised by what was basically a small meteor of human origin and for a bit there it had been damned scary.

But Brains made above average spacesuits and a certain self-healing polymer invented by a smart brother automatically resealed the suit.

Not before the damage to Alan’s leg had been done, however. A gash the length of his calf with both hot and cold burns leaving his leg a mess and their little brother grounded for weeks.

Scott was just happy to have him safe, and those weeks gave Scott the time to process the fact that, ultimately, he would have to let Alan out into space again.

But for now, he was safe at home.

Virgil was on his right when they entered the comms room. There was only one lamp providing illumination beside the moon shining through the rafters, but there was enough light to see Alan and Gordon curled up in what appeared to be the remains of a blanket fort.

Scott stepped quietly, Virgil on his heels.

Both little brothers were asleep, Gordon curled protectively around Allie, snuggled in a pile of pillows and bedclothes. Alan’s bandaged leg stuck out at an angle, but rested on a cushion, his foot sporting a pink fluffy slipper.

But it wasn’t the rather heart-warming sight of his two sleeping brothers that raised his eyebrows.

It was the swarm, a literal school of plushies that surrounded them that had Scott’s eyes bugging out...at least a little.

His brothers were curled up on the floor, but sitting on the couches where International Rescues were decided on and deployed was a literal cornucopia of sea life cuddly toys.

There was a giant prawn as big as Alan perched as if waiting for the holoprojector to activate. Eight octopuses of varying size, lined up in a row, sat beside it, three squid keeping them company.

A whale took up the entirety of one couch all by itself, a plethora of rays and fluffy sharks were piled up in mounds.

A furry red crab was sitting on the steps alongside something else that was white and vaguely bug like. The rest of the floor was covered by starfish, multiple clownfish and a whole variety of other plushie marine organisms including a six-metre-long oarfish that Scott only knew the name of because Gordon had pounded it into his head the day he bought it.

Literally, Gordon had whacked him across the head with it.

Virgil tiptoed into the mess silently on bare feet and there was a flicker of yellow light as he scanned his little brother.

The engineer retreated back to Scott’s side just as quietly, so there was obviously nothing to be concerned about.

John flickered in above the table, obviously on dim projection. He didn’t say anything, just smiling a little down at his brothers before looking up at Scott and Virgil.

Scott absently saluted him and that smile widened just a little before he blinked out again.

There was definitely a good reason why Thunderbird One needed to be parked out back.

Virgil tugged on his arm.

A glance at his brother and Virgil nodded him in the direction of the elevator.

Scott looked back at his two sleeping little brothers once more, a breath releasing through his teeth. Gordon obviously had a sea creature plushie addiction that might require a few questions at a later time, but there was something about the scene that swelled Scott’s heart and part of him wanted to curl up in the pile with them.

Virgil tugged on his arm again and Scott relented, following the engineer from the room.

Nothing much was said between them in the elevator, both caught up in their thoughts. Now they were out of sight of their little brothers, exhaustion once again crept in.

Virgil squeezed Scott’s shoulder as they exited onto the residential level and both of them disappeared into their rooms.

Five minutes later there was a knock at Scott’s door.

Bleary eyed and heart sinking he opened it, only to find Virgil standing there with his arms full of a giant black teddy bear. His brother shoved it at Scott, forcing him to either grab a hold or drop it.

Nothing was said, but Virgil did squeeze his hand before disappearing as abruptly as he had appeared.

Scott was left holding a giant black teddy bear.

It took him a moment, but he shut the door and retreated back into his bedroom.

The bear stared at him.

This was foolish.

But exhaustion continued to gnaw at him and it was with a certain lack of care that found Scott grabbing the bear and curling up in bed around it as the lights finally shut off.

Its fur was ever so soft.

And warm.

As he relaxed into sleep.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #nuttyfic reblog #fluff #plushies

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phading · 27 days

Text

Stellar - Just Posted

It's late, I'm exhausted, emotionally drained and so, so ecstatic to have finished this fic! Hope you enjoy.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderfam #thunderbirds fanfiction #john tracy #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #scott tracy #alan tracy #phading #a phade fic #angst #poetry #secrets #hospital

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phading · 27 days

Text

AO3 Formatting Question

Original question: Can someone tell me, In Word, how do I insert blocks of text that will be indented and single spaced in AO3's RTF (rich text format)?

#ao3 formatting #thunderfam

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phading · 28 days

Text

Armour

For @sofasurf because of this post.

Only a short thing and not really addressing the challenge as I did a little research and in 700AD there wasn't plate armour and most stuff in Ireland was light. Plus our boys fly dragons, so instead we have padded leather armour. I also stuffed up the removal of even that.

Scott demanded POV even though I wanted to write Virgil's and the scene suffers from his lack of coherence.

But anyway, we have 500 words of something Thunderdragons. I hope you enjoy this tiny bit.

-o-o-o-

“Scott! Scott, look at me! Look at me!”

His brother’s eyes shone from a grotty and blood smeared face.

“Virg…” It was an exhalation, almost a last breath.

“Scott, you stay with me. Stay!” His brother knew how to yell, his deep voice echoing in Scott’s head, back and forth, back and forth.

He realised he was being carried. “Put him down here. I need boiled water and cloths.” Hurried footsteps darted out of the tent.

Something came up behind him and his body sunk onto a hard surface. A wad of soft fabric was tucked under his head as the room spun.

“Brother? Flaith!” His helmet was removed as a hand held his jaw. Scott opened his eyes to find dark eyes glaring at him. “Keep your eyes open, Flaith.”

Curse, Virgil only called him Flaith when he wanted to piss him off.

But it worked. Scott struggled to pull himself together. He had been on the battlefield. There had been an attack. Óen had been beneath him…

“Flaithri!” He sat up, his muscles working on memory before informing him that there was injury, the reason why his healer brother was now yelling again.

Virgil’s voice was so loud!

But arms caught him and lowered him back down to whatever it was he was lying on.

“Scott, please.”

It was his brother’s soft hiss that slammed reality home.

He was injured. But…”Flaithri?”

Virgil’s eyes answered him without words.

So, their grandfather was taken by the Scourge from across the Western Sea.

“Father?” Their father would now be Flaithri. Please.

There was a tear running down Virgil’s face. “The Flaithri has instructed us to prepare to retreat.”

“We are fleeing?” Scott struggled to sit up again, but Virgil held him down.

“You are injured, Flaith. I have been instructed to make you ready for transport.”

“Virg…”

“Please, Scott.” Again with the whispered plea.

When he didn’t respond, Virgil let go of his shoulders and began removing his flight leathers.

Scott swallowed as Virgil gently tugged at the ties at his throat, unlacing his padded armour. His brother’s breathing was tightly controlled, but that tear was still tracking down his cheek.

“Virg…”

His brother wiped his face on his sleeve. “You have injury. We need to clean-“

“Virgil.”

But his brother was looking away as he called for assistance, and the healer’s attendant hurried in, lugging water and cloths. As they removed the leathers from his side, they caught in clotted blood, leaving Scott gasping and barely hanging onto reality.

As if taking the opportunity, hands then poked and prodded and placed pressure on the source of so much fire.

The warmth of his brother’s hand on his cheek slowly drew him back from the edge. Sweat was beaded on his temples; his lungs grabbing for air.

He was bare-chested, still lying on a healer’s pallet. Virgil’s worried eyes still hovered above him.

“You will heal. But you need time and rest.”

“I have neither.” His father would need him.

But Virgil grabbed at his shoulders, again preventing his rise.

And there was something in his brother’s eyes, more than just Scott’s injury.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Virgil’s eyes closed and his head dropped.

“Virgil?”

Something shuddered through Virgil’s frame and when he looked up, Scott could only feel fear.

“What is it?!”

“Mother was taken also.” The words rasped across his brother’s lips.

Time froze.

“No.”

“I’m sorry, Scott.” There were tears in Virgil’s voice.

“No.”

Virgil closed his eyes again.

Please, no.

-o-o-o-

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phading · 29 days

Text

Just Posted!

I dug myself out of a landslide of angsty WIPs and this happened ...

#thunderbirds are go #thunderfam #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #john tracy #brotherly moments #humor #mild blood #phading #phade #a phade fic

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phading · 1 month

Text

Hi, it's me!

Okay, so there’s probably a lot you don’t know about me. So just in case you’re in the least bit interested:

I try very, very hard never to read incomplete fics. Purely selfish, and the result of reading far too many heart-grabbing stories that never got finished. If you need kudos or encouragement or anything else to continue, I’m here and over the moon excited to read anything you’d like to throw at me. Just let me know what you want in return - comments, critique, suggestions, hugs, encouragement, emojis, whatever ...

I posted one fic a chapter at a time, and I doubt I’ll ever do it again.

Characterization is everything.

If you’ve noticed an absence of Brains, Grandma, Lady P, Havoc, etc… in my fics it’s because I don’t give a twit. Perhaps one day I will evolve beyond this simplistic state.

I suck at prompts, challenges and deadlines. My muse is never in the right headspace at the right time.

I have a ridiculous need to keep it believable when really, the stuff that goes on in the show – no matter how much I adore it – is often somewhat miraculous.

It’s the future, people, I’m allowed to invent things.

In real life, I write kids’ books.

To the best of my knowledge, I’m the oldest member of the Thunderfam. Challenge me if you think you can claim the title.

The first thing of importance I ever wrote was a full length Star Trek Next Gen novel which I submitted to a few select New York publishers (oh, the innocence of youth) . Surprise, surprise, many of them actually read it and sent back comments written on famous restaurant napkins.

So, in light of all of the above, I’m once again doing my own thing. Inspired by the recent “10 opening lines from 10 recent fics” post I’m changing it up to “10 opening lines from 10 WIPs”. I mean, seriously, I’m a newbie here and have far more WIPs than I do finished fics. So here’s what’s – pray to the anti-depression, anti-chronic pain gods – coming up …

A WHOLE LOT OF SUPERFICIAL The uniform discarded in a heap on the floor outside the showers was expected – the purple neoprene wasn’t. (Virgil, Scott, shaping up to be humour)

THE LAST ZOO ON EARTH “Say again, John. I thought you said we have a situation at a zoo.” (All brothers, major rescue, major whump, pissed off Gordon)

THERE ARE NO CANNIBALS ANYMORE “Sir! I need you to calm down!” (Hurt Virgil, this one could go graphic in a hurry)

IT DOESN’T HURT Virgil glanced up from the piano keys, searching for inspiration but instead witnessing his fish brother's spectacular dive off the board – a dive that would leave his re-built back in shambles. (Fishtank, chronic pain)

TIGHT ROPE “I’m sorry, John, but if she’s dumb enough to try and pull off this ridiculous stunt, I see no reason why we should save her from her own stupidity.” (rescue gone sideways)

STARSTUCK Alan Tracy had been looking forward to this moment for a very long time. (Hurt Virgil, guilty Alan, Thunderbird 3 whump)

STELLAR “Hey, John, what’s this?” “It’s personal, that’s what it is!” (Guilty John, comatose Gordon, poetry, John has a secret)

CASPIAN John Tracy blinked open his eyes, breath catching when he discovered the most beautiful thing in his universe mere centimetres from his face. (John, OC-John’s lover, angst, Marks and Wings, John is not only a telepathic Ave but he’s bi!)

PSYCHOTIC MEDIUMS The probe entered Earth’s solar system broadcasting a symphony of alien sound that instantaneously drove the half-a-million or so humans who were listening insane. (Virgil centric, angst, sci-fi)

THE JOHN-CODE “Hey, Eos, you wanna help me test this new game?” (Alan, John, Eos, virtual games gone wrong.)

#thunderbirds are go #thunderfam #thunderbirds fanfiction #phading

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phading · 1 month

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Oh, Nutty, so very lovely!

Scott was refusing to look at him.

His big brother carefully and gently wrapped each of Virgil’s fingers one by one, blue eyes focussed ever so intently on the task.

No words were said.

None had been said the last time Scott had changed the bandages.

None had been said at the hospital.

None that Scott knew Virgil had heard. There had been the fog of anaesthesia, but he could have sworn he had heard his brother crying.

Virgil’s heart clenched at the memory.

“I’m sorry.” The words were out before he could think better of it.

Scott’s hands stilled a moment.

Those blue eyes looked up at him.

Lips moved as if to say something, but tightened almost immediately as his brother swallowed and went back to securing gauze.

But Virgil had had enough. “Scott, please!”

“What?!” He straightened, taking a step away from the infirmary bed. “What do you want me to say?”

“Tell me you’re okay.” A swallow. “That we’re okay.”

Scott’s shoulders dropped just a little. He grabbed the mitten that protected all the bandaging and fastened it over Virgil’s swollen hand. “Virgil, we will never be anything but okay.” He turned away and began packing medical supplies back into their storage box.

With both hands swaddled in various layers of cotton and non-stick dressings, there was little Virgil could do to grab his brother’s arm, so instead he hooked a long leg with a boot. “Talk to me!”

“So you can argue with me? Tell me it was the right thing to do?”

“Yes!”

“You’re wrong, Virgil! It was the wrong thing to do! I had a plan.”

“You were going to die!”

“I didn’t!”

“Because I saved your ass and you know it. That’s why you don’t want to talk, isn’t it! You thought you had it worked out, but it went south and I got hurt. That’s it, isn’t it!” He desperately tried to pin his brother with his eyes, but the man was still refusing to look at him.

Deep and forceful. “I. Had. A. Plan. You should have trusted me.”

“I do trust you. But you were going to die, Scott. And I refuse to let that happen.”

“So you decided to sacrifice yourself.”

“That’s what you were trying to do. At least doing it my way, we’re both alive to yell at each other.”

“But…” And Scott’s eyes fixated on Virgil’s hands. “At what cost?”

Virgil blinked before straightening. “Bargain basement.” His voice broke on the last syllable, but he meant it with everything he was.

His hands were burnt…badly. The rod had been that hot, it had melted through his heavy-duty gloves. There was question of scaring, possible movement loss and nerve damage. “I won’t lie to you, Scott. I’m scared.” He stared down at the swaths of white. “But nowhere near as terrified as I was of losing you.” He held his hands up. “This I can handle. With you here.” He let his hands drop gently into his lap. “Without you…” He sucked in a breath and, straightening up again, caught his brother’s wide eyes. “Without you, the world just doesn’t work anymore!” He glared at Scott. “And I will do anything to prevent that from happening!”

Blue eyes stared at him for a full moment before shifting away, wandering, and latching back onto the medical supplies like a raft in a storm. “That doesn’t sound very healthy, Virg.”

Virgil shimmied off the infirmary bed, onto his feet, and pushed himself into Scott’s personal space. His brother had always been taller than him, but Virgil didn’t need height. “You listen to me. You are integral to this family. You are the damned guiding light of this organisation and I will not see you sacrificing yourself if I can prevent it. You are my brother!”

Scott closed the lid on the medical box and looked down at Virgil. “And you are mine. So how can you expect me to watch you get injured like this for my sake.”

“Because the alternative would have hurt me more.”

Scott opened his mouth as if to rebut, but slowly shut it again.

Virgil continued to look up at him and if the pleading bled into his expression, he couldn’t help it. “Please, Scott?”

His big brother stared at him a moment, his eyes growing glassy until he had to blink.

Virgil tentatively reached out a bandage-covered hand and brushed it against his brother’s arm.

And Scott grabbed him, pulling him in, holding Virgil ever so close and tight. Bandaged hands fumbled and stuck out in awkward directions, but Virgil’s cheek found Scott’s shoulder and he clung the best way he could.

This was better.

Oh, so much better.

Virgil blinked a few times, but held on as if his life depended on it.

“I’m sorry, Scott.” Quiet, an attempt at reassurance.

Something was mumbled into his flannel shirt.

Virgil just hung on tighter.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #virgil tracy #scott tracy #nuttyfic reblog #gumnut #tissue alert

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phading · 1 month

Text

Thank you to everyone who got me to 500 likes!

#500 likes #tumblr milestone #thank you

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phading · 1 month

Note

How fun is this! … and what an awesome way to connect with others in the Thunderfam!

My AO3 stats …

First Post: Dec. 30, 2022

Total words: 60,512

Total published fics: 21

Total comments: 227

Total kudos: 921

Total bookmarks: 84

Total Hits: 8,464

Tag someone you appreciate but don’t talk to on a regular basis:(although I wish I did!)

@womble1, @lenle-g, @astranite, @tsarinatorment, @sineater, @theweatheroutside, @ajpendragon, @whathavewedone, @onereyofstarlight, @katblu42 ...

OMG this is getting silly, but there’s so many more of you, and some I can't find at tumblr. If anybody wants to chat, I’m here!

Tag my Biggest supporters:

@gumnut-logic for inspiring my first fic, welcoming me into her AU with arms wide open, dealing with a newbie at all hours of the day (and possibly night) quelling my insecurities and just being the rock in the storm that she is for all of us

@janetm74 for listening to me vent, for comfort and safety and just plain understanding

@idontknowreallywhy for the totally awesome comments she leaves at AO3 and for agreeing to read my WIPs.

Hope to hear from some of you!

Hello! :)

Writer's Truth or Dare

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats (if you're okay with that!)

🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis

🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

Thanks for asking!

AO3 Total Stats:

User Subscriptions: 49 Kudos: 9,807 Comment Threads: 3,251 Bookmarks: 1,072 Subscriptions: 591 Word Count: 1,312,790 Hits: 135,679

Tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis:

There are so many! @yarol2075 @astranite @phading @godsliltippy are only a tiny fraction.

Tag my biggest supporters:

@the-original-sineater and @mariashades are my biggest supporters and helpers and I doubt my muses would be as kind without their constant cheerleading.

@edutainer2022 who does some excellent shorts that I have found inspirational

@womble1 and @tikatu for their running with Movements and adding ideas and snippets

Once more there are so many more - more than I can name

#thunderfam #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go

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phading · 1 month

Text

OMG Virg! Another treasure from Nutty.

Heavy Lifting

Just a quick scene. A little action and lots of desperation for poor Virg. He really shouldn't be subject to my fluctuating moods. Like, really? Poor boi :D

He really loves his littlest brother, by the way.

I hope you enjoy this angstfest.

-o-o-o-

“Alan! Don’t let go!”

“Virg, I’m slipping!”

To Virgil’s horror, Alan did slip. He clamped down with every muscle in his arm and gut, desperate to hold onto his littlest brother.

But he could still feel those small gloved fingers sliding ever so slowly through his grip.

God, please, no.

He struggled, throwing idea after idea out of his mind, desperate to find a way to get Alan up and secured…to his belt, to the grapple line, to anything but his failing hold.

Virgil’s other arm had a gouge across his bicep, interfering with his ability to move it at all. It was screaming at him at the strain, but his heart was shouting louder as his brain could not supply a solution other than physically pulling his brother up and close with his one good arm.

Heavy lifting was his speciality, after all.

They were hanging off the side of a half-constructed skyscraper. It was raining and the wind was howling. Everything was wet including Virgil’s gloves.

Gecko gloves would have solved the majority of the problem. He automatically threw the tech onto his to-do list, to add to his everyday gloves, even triggering the initial design need to make the gecko grip appear at will.

But it didn’t help him or Alan right now.

“Virgil!”

Rain dripped down both their helmets, but he could still see his little brother’s face.

This was Virgil’s fault. He should have seen the structural vulnerability before the floor caved in, throwing both operatives over the edge. Virgil had grabbed his brother as they fell, firing his grapple gun just like he had done in so many training situations, but his uniform had been caught, followed by skin and his grip faltered.

And Alan fell from his arms.

It only took him a split second to recover and grab at his little brother, ever thankful to feel his hand wrapping around Alan’s, but now they were stuck, hands slipping, with a lethal drop below, hidden in the darkness.

He had to pull his brother up.

Heavy lifting.

He’s not heavy…

He’s my brother.

Hysterical thought for a terrifying whiteout as he pulled Alan up with every fibre he had.

Voice hoarse. “Alan climb!”

The wind pushed at them and they swung, spinning.

Virgil groaned, body screaming.

While Virgil contracted his arm, Alan was obviously struggling to get a second grip, his body twisting in an attempt to reach up but not lose what little grip he had. Rain poured down on them and waterproof suits shed the water in rivulets.

Virgil found he could not lift his brother up.

God, please.

“Alan!”

Fingers slipped further.

Virgil squeezed Alan’s hand tighter. Broken fingers could be fixed later.

Again he tried to pull his little brother up, even a little, enough for Alan to grab onto Virgil’s body and save himself.

Something cracked in his injured arm and Virgil screamed.

Scott was yelling into his ear.

Scott? “Scott, I can’t!” Tears ran down his cheeks.

Lightning flickered in the remains of the storm, and thunder rolled across the earth.

Alan’s fingers were slipping and…

…then they were gone.

“NO!!” The denial was ripped from his throat as his brother screamed his name.

And fell.

His little brother!

There was no slow motion. Alan was just gone. Taken by height and rain.

Lightning flickered again.

Oh, god.

His brain froze, unwilling to believe, but forced to focus on fact.

The rain still whipped against his faceplate, his now empty hand flailing in the air. The world kept moving…

But…

“Virgil!”

Scott was suddenly in his face, his arms wrapping around him, hauling him upwards, his fingers prodding Virgil’s injured arm loose from the now lax grapple line.

Virgil hung limp in his grasp.

How could he face Scott?

How could he…?

Alan.

“Virgil, talk to me.”

Scott was in his face again. Virgil was on solid ground, his arm still screaming.

He didn’t have a voice. His throat was so tight, he could barely breathe.

A couple of clicks and Scott was removing his helmet. He was in his beloved ‘bird. Her well-lit module protected them from the storm outside.

Scott threw off his helmet. “Virgil?”

His brother needed an answer. “…Alan.” The name scraped across his larynx, his tongue.

His heart.

“Virgil?”

It was his name, but Scott hadn’t spoken.

Alan appeared behind Scott, worry on his face.

Virgil’s brain locked up.

“Alan?!” He threw himself at his little brother.

“Whoa!” Unfortunately, Virgil discovered he wasn’t stable enough to keep his own feet under him, and Alan wasn’t the heavy lifting brother, falling under Virgil, unable to support his weight.

Again, Scott caught him, grunting as he took his weight.

“I’m okay, Virg! I’m okay!”

But Virgil refused to let him go, hugging him to his chest as Scott haphazardly lowered the both of them to the floor.

Virgil buried his face in his little brother’s hair. “Allie, oh, god, Allie.”

“I’m okay, Virg. Need to breathe.”

“Virgil, you’re bleeding.” Scott tugged gently on his arm. The arm that was screaming even more now he was using it to hug the brother he thought he had lost.

“I’m sorry, Alan, so sorry.”

“Hey, I’m okay, big guy. See…” He brought his forehead down to touch Virgil’s. “Scott caught me.”

“Thank you, thank you.” Yes, he was beside himself. There were tears, tears of relief.

“Virgil, sit back, you’re bleeding all over your ‘bird.” Again, Scott was attempting to move him, his voice commanding yet all worried big brother.

“C’mon, big bro, sit back, and let us fix you up, okay?”

Virgil followed Alan with his eyes, but he obeyed, sitting back against something that was suddenly behind him on the floor as Scott pulled out a laser cutter and began slicing up his uniform to get to the injury.

Virgil settled for grabbing Alan’s hand and holding on to it ever so tight.

And this time, he wouldn’t let go.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #alan tracy #nuttyfic

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