#thunderbird update
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Have y’all seen the new Thunderbird logo?
Shit’s sexy as hell.
#rambles#tech#tech news#update#thunderbird#thunderbird 115#thunderbird logo#new icon#thunderbird update#Mozilla#mozilla firefox#firefox#software#email#email client
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This came out of the blue, as I don't usually do the de-aging AU. Don't ask me about the physics of it - something, something Fischler is an idiot. It's mostly about the the emotional reactions and ramifications. So, in a flash of explosion Scott is three... again. The family navigate their feelings about it, dealing with a confused child. Virgil and John discuss the what-ifs and what-nots. Scotty gets better eventually, or maybe worse... From a certain point of view.
A bow to @janetm74 , whose takes on the trope are always fascinating.
WAY LEADS ON TO WAY
It took some coaxing and a promise of pie to pry the child away from Virgil. Blue eyes, too big for the small face, were full of fear and reoccurring tears. The tiny body was trembling and skinny arms clung to Virgil's flanel shirt ever since the device blew up. Virgil didn't mind one bit, but they needed to run scans and tests making sure the boy... Scott was okay. Or as okay as could be, considering he was now about 25 years younger than should be.
Everyone froze as the boy asked for "Momma and Virgie" the first time and burst into tears. It, surprisingly, took Virgil's voice to dissuade the meltdown, as he was gleefully identified as "Dada" and got a little limpet attached to his torso. The flash of pain in Dad's, actual Dad's, eyes was not lost on either Virgil or Grandma. Virgil hugged the child closer, suddenly self-conscious.
Brains was already deep in the schematics of the malfunctioned device, confiscated earlier that day from a disaster site that happened to be one of Fischler's labs. Kayo was looking stormy, plotting possible bodily harm, although, knowing Fischler, not even enhanced interrogation could yield reliable information on what happened and how to reverse the effects asap.
John watched Virgil with a now three year old Scotty, his expression unreadable. Eos was already tasked with simulations for reverse engineering the device. It being a Fischler's concoction, they couldn't risk hurting Scott as they would try to get him "back". Alan was shocked and looked a lot younger himself. Grandma hugged him with a reassuring word.
Gordon's natural skill with small kids proved handy, as he was quick to whip out Alan’s old toys from Neptune knew where and produced a heap of his own plushies. The little boy was suitably distracted and involved into play, making vroom-vroom noises with a dinosaur on a Lego plane. The window of calm didn't last long, though, as now little Scotty, obviously tired and confused, became cranky again and cried for Momma and Virgie. Virgil looked up at Dad, at a loss. The child obviously didn't remember much beyond being 'cotty, "this many fingers" old, Mom, and having a baby brother. Jeff, watching the boy with anguished yearning so far, as he got scared and ran to Virgil the first time around, stepped up again. The gruff words got the child shy at first, but Dad was patient explaining to Scotty "Momma and Virgie" were away on a long walk, so Scotty was left in charge at home, like a big boy. There's was a fair measure of tears in the rough gravel that strained Jeff's voice. All colors of eyes around were bright with tears too.
But the trick worked and after a moment of the tiny face frowning and considering more crying, Jeff was declared "Gan'pa!". The boy climbed into his lap, where he was now asleep, wrapped in Alan’s favorite childhood blanket. The small face relaxed from the strain and tears dried out - Scotty looked so sweet and happy.
It was decided to settle the child in Dad's room for the night. The infirmary, barren and unfamiliar, could scare him. And it would be more comfortable for Jeff to watch over the boy - a duty he vehemently refused to yield to any of his sons, who all volunteered readily. Gordon whisked Alan away for some brotherly soothing, as the kid was visibly shaken in the face of loosing biggest brother to the child he once was.
John squinted, eyes darting between Dad, doting and cooing over the tiny bundle of blankets, space-worn features softened and instantly younger too, and Virgil, clearly hesitant to leave. In the end, Jeff softly shooed the elder sons away - even at three Scotty had been a light sleeper.
John was headed to Brains' lab to assist with rebuilding the hapless device. Virgil tagged along, but for the moment they found themselves lingering in the dim hallway, outside of Dad's rooms. The events of the day were A LOT to absorb and to even begin to process. John caught Virgil stealing a glance back at the room, where the child was sleeping peacefully, deep in thought. John braced himself, as he was fairly certain he knew what his brother was thinking. As much as he knew he could never agree.
Virgil looked back, sadness mixed with hope in brown eyes.
"John, don't you think we should..."
"No!"
John didn't expect himself to yell and started, having to gulp down the rest of the protest, lest the child woke up. But Virgil was looking up at him, gaze already frantic with a fast assembling plan.
"I could adopt him! Or Dad. There won't be a legal problem! He's happy, Johnny! We can make sure he never gets hurt! Can you imagine?!"
Hope shone brighter over doubt in brown eyes, but John shuddered and stepped away from Virgil's reach. Because he COULD imagine. That pathway of probabilities was the first one through his mind, as a little boy crawled out of the dust and debris where their biggest brother was standing seconds ago. John COULD imagine. A Scott who had never held them all after Mom's funeral, a Scott, who never rocked Allie to sleep, crying for Mommy, a Scott, who never packed their lunches or picked them up from after-school clubs, because Dad was unavailable, floating in a sea of grief and work. A Scott they never lost to the horror of That Place. A Scott that never came back as a broken shell. A Scott that didn't give up every shred of himself to uphold Dad's legacy and step into Dad's shoes for them all. A Scott that wasn't blaming himself even now that Dad was back. A Scott that wasn't in pain. A Scott they could all see grow up and live a happy life he deserved.
John could see it all too well. It broke his heart to see Dad grasp at the impossible second chance to do right by the eldest son. He saw the eager plea in Virgil's eyes. And John near hated himself as every part of his soul was screaming in protest. Every selfish, terrified little brother part that was in agony at the prospect of losing the very foundation rock of their world - Scott the biggest brother, who loved them, and saw them, and cheered for them, and accepted them all for who they were, and shielded them in a world otherwise cruel and unyielding, a Scott who made sense of everything they were doing, of everything Dad was doing, even when they all drowned in hurt, grief, and resentment. A Scott who could tell them they could do it and they would believe it.
Making sure Scott got a chance at happiness meant loosing him for good. John squeezed his eyes shut against hot angry tears.
Virgil was still looking up at him, hesitant to offer unwarranted touch, and deeply worried. John took in a long stabilizing breath.
"Do you think... Do you think he'd want to never know us all, growing up?"
Virgil's face fell and John felt another pang of remorse.
As if on cue to that thought, the door to Dad's room slid open and tiny feet padded along the hallway. Virgil made a step to intercept the little fugitive, and crouched in front of the child, not to scare.
"What is it Scotty? Do you want some water?"
The boy was obviously drowsy from sleep, small hands rubbing the eyes.
"Wan'Virgie! Didn't say nite-nite t'Virgie! Where'Virgie?"
Big blue eyes were brimming with tears again, confused and desperate. Virgil picked up the feather-light frame and stood up, cradling the boy close and bouncing softly, whispering soothing nonsense to calm the child back to sleep. Brown eyes met a loaded gaze of the turquoise ones. Virgil knew John had a point. But it hurt to consider either way.
John stepped up closer, ruffling the boy's hair. Thunderbird Five, the Voice That Answers, was speaking now, but it was a brother's kiss on the child's temple:
"We'll help you find Virgie, Scotty! I promise! We'll help you get home! We've got you!"
The adult brothers exchanged another Look as the sniffles subsided and Scotty was falling asleep again.
John's comm pinged with a message from Brains. He got something on the device functions. It was quickly decided John would head to the lab. Dad obviously succumbed to the ever lingering fatigue and the stress of the day, so a woken up Scotty could escape. Virgil would stay in the lounge with the boy, watching over for more signs of distress or to mitigate more runaway attempts. Come morning, Gordon and Alan were to take over the babysitting duty. The villa was hopelessly NOT child-proof since Allie was past ten and Scotty's propensity for creative and agile jailbreaks was a significant part of family lore. Even if Brains was close to a reverse effect, they still would need to run tests and simulations, before even considering risking a child.
***
The last thing Scott remembered was a bright flash as the device he brought back for Brains to inspect heated up in his hands, vibrated and exploded. Now he was sitting flat on the floor in the hangar, ears ringing. A blur of motion in his periferal vision materialized in two bodies tackling him further down in a hug. Oomph, make it three bodies. Four. Alright, okay, he LOVED THEM TOO, but he needed to breathe. His ribs creaked. There were more pats down his shoulders and back, a brandished med scanner - unsurprising.
A bit more surprising was another hug, as he finally made it up off the floor and untangled gently, if wobbly, from the pile of brothers - Dad gathered him close in a fierce motion and held tight with no obvious intention to let go. It felt nice, of course, safe. But also worrisome. So for a moment Scott struggled with the conflicting urges to melt into the hug and to FIX whatever got Dad so scared. Jeff just tightened the embrace in response and Scott gave in, relaxing into being held.
He'd have to get to the bottom of it, as more arms joined the hold around him again, especially as he clearly heard Dad whispering "I'm so sorry, Bluejay! I love you so much, son". But for now he was warm, and snug, and obviously so welcome. He was home. Nothing ever felt better.
#thunderbirds are go#scott tracy#scott tracy needs a hug#scott tracy needs his dad#deaged au#virgil tracy#john tracy#needs a hug#earth and star#jeff tracy needs a license update in fathering#my fic#thunderbirds 2015#methinks i have astronomy
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mav how do you share like 80% of my interests even the vague ones that i thought only i rememebred its actualyscaring me at this point
(theres definitely more. i can tell..i can tell
Thunderbirds is still the most shocking one to me tbh like. it also surprises me that we dont talk more based on this insanely specific list????
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Hello!!
It’s been a LONG time but if you’re inclined to read please have a bonus chapter to an older fic: first time in just over four years that I’ve posted anything for any fandom!
I found it in my files today and being as it’s been so long, I figured why the heck not, as I reckon it’s about time I came back with something. It’s not technically new writing, but I’m pretty gosh darn happy with myself either way. I’m finally at a place in my life where maybe things are going to be ok? I mean, I’m 31.
I’ll see what else the fates bring (my bestie is pretty unwell — not sure what’s with this people closest to me getting horribly sick thing), but I think I’m in a place where if I go back to using my writing to cope I’ll be fine. I can at least hope.
(For those who have by this point probably given up anticipating an update for Fulcrum (or anything related to it) never fear, for that one is next on my agenda! I’m ‘Bound’ and ‘Determined’ to get John through his decade-long predicament. Haha.)
Either way, have a chapter. :)
(For those who are unaware, Kent is my OC, Virgil’s identical twin who died of complications from a heart condition, three days after their birth. Technically part of my AIE “AU”, I originally wasn’t intending to ever post this part, as it’s a practice piece I used to look at who Kent Tracy may have been had he survived past infancy.)
Midnight
The soft sounds of Virgil’s snores rumble through the room from the top bunk, but Kent lays in the bottom bed, wide awake with his pen in one hand, the flashlight in another; scrawling furiously across the pages of his notebook.
It’s past eleven again, and the fourteen-year-old boy can’t sleep; the insomnia from sleeping all day has kicked in again, and all he can do is while away the hours until his father and older brothers roll out of bed. He doesn’t fear waking up his twin brother; Virgil doesn’t wake up unless someone holds the alarm clock right next to his ear; volume up on full, so it’s highly unlikely that he’s going to be disturbed from the light.
He doesn’t mind overly much though, these quiet hours before the dawn. Being one of six children often means that aside from the two hours of study that their father enforces every day, it’s very rare for any of the Tracy children to have any time to themselves without another sibling interrupting it somehow.
It’s nice to have this time to write, and consider and dream without his two youngest brothers asking ‘What are you doing, KT? Can I see? Lemme look!’ he finds it bliss to not have his father wanting him to help with chores or his grandmother wanting him to watch Alan while she takes Virgil and Gordon out, because their father is busy in the office again.
It’s peaceful, and as much as he likes a bit of chaos and excitement, Kent also likes to have some quiet now and again. He loves the way the moon streams through the curtains in the bedroom, how he can listen to Virgil dreaming and feel his brother’s happiness and quiet soul soar through their twin bond.
He feels the pressures of being the sickly child; the one who everyone has to be careful of and look out for too much, and for Kent, these moments when he doesn’t have them looking over him in concern and hovering when he’s ‘too pale’ or ‘overtired’, it just makes him feel more whole somehow. At fourteen, he just wants them to stop seeing him as the ill one and allow him to grow without them worrying that he’s going to overtax his weakened heart.
In these moments, he can remember his mother, and how like him; she was a writer, although with six children before she died, she never got to achieve her dream of getting a novel published. Sure, she wrote for the local newspaper, along with the kindergarten teaching and the music lessons she taught in order to help their father with the monthly bills, but it’s something that Kent knew she always wanted to do. Now she’s gone, he’s more determined than ever to achieve that dream, and make his mom as proud of him as she was as his other brothers.
That’s not to say that he didn’t think she was, but he just wants to do something that his three older brothers haven’t yet.
Kent loves his family, but he just wants to get out of this little box, pre-packaged, made just for him, the one that labels him as the sickly child, the one who is to be worried over and assisted.
It’s not that his father, Grandpa and Grandma don’t expect him to amount to anything, just that somehow, Kent has this invisible label on him that instantly informs people that he’s ill and that he is given just that little bit more leeway to get to places a little easier. There’s nothing more Kent hates more than to be told that he needs to take it easy, or that he can’t do something, just because he’s sick.
That’s why he uses this time, past the hour he should’ve been in dreamland to work harder on anything he ever has in his life, because he wants to make them proud, to break out of the accidental constraints that his condition has placed upon him. He’ll rise above and beyond those automatic assumptions, and prove to everyone that he can do just as much as his brothers. Even if it takes him a little bit longer, even if he has to work a little bit harder, he will achieve his goals.
As he packs up his book and caps the pen an hour later, still not sleepy but content that he’s worked with what he can for tonight, Kent is determined that he’s going to become a published author before he hits his eighteenth birthday, because he’s a Tracy, and for a Tracy, failure isn’t an option.
He’ll lie awake for the rest of the night, and yes, he’ll be completely exhausted and will spend the day in bed tomorrow, but he’ll keep with him through his grandmother’s fussing and John and Scott’s smothering, the peace and tranquillity that this time has given him.
He’s happy, and he knows that if his mother is watching, she’ll be proud.
#pyre talks#thunderbirds#thunderbirds are go#fandom#my writing#pyre writing tag#The Bound Universe#Kent Tracy#Kent Slayton Tracy#with any luck I *will* update Fulcrum soon so I’m not lying in my author’s notes#personal#long time: no writing
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NEW FIC WHO DIS?
Yay! I'm back and just in time for Love and Thunderbirds month!
I present to you the TOS fic that has been consuming my thoughts and getting on my last nerve for the past five months. We had some false starts and parts were a slog because it's so different from what I've been used to writing, but it's finally done and I'm so in love with it.
Working title was "When your bloody OC wants her man in both worlds and won't shut up".
This is a romance (obviously, I wouldn't be me otherwise) but it's a safe one, no spice, very little physical touch beyond platonic, lots of pining, right person wrong time, and a daring rescue!
(Warning, it's a fully complete 75k monster!)
I tried to embody the spirit of the original show and characters (Scott is an absolute dream to work with in all incarnations) and I hope I've done them justice.
Here it is!
I hope you enjoy it and love it as much as I do.
And I apologise to those who are subbed to me on AO3 and FF your inboxes will be bursting. Ooops.
And now, back to plotting and writing season 3 of my dumbasses.
I'm so happy to be back!
#love & thunderbirds#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds#thunderbirds fanfiction#john tracy#thunderbirdsarego#gordon tracy#virgil tracy#scott tracy#alan tracy#thunderbirds 1965#love#writing romance#romance#happy romance#fan fic update#fan fic#fan fiction
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Description in Alt
Chapter update! https://archiveofourown.org/works/54939418/chapters/140685859
I dunno if i'll get an update in next week but here's a hoping x
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guys!!! i kinda wrote something again, would you want to read about it? but it's just an idea, probably a forever WIP again,,,,but oh well
#it's about...........#thunderbirds are go#!#once again i found myself in the writing stage#sorry to dust and people who wanted or were waiting for updates but...#none#mmkmskdmskdsdkdmsdksdmsk#iris speaks#i hope this reaches the audience
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The Long Game WIP Sneak Peak
The last time he had to do this sort of intervention was when Alan had been eleven. Their father had been missing, presumed dead, for a few months by that point. None of them were taking it well. The older three tried their best to appear put-together whenever they were around Gordon or Alan, but they were all hurting. Every single person on that island was hurting. The night before the funeral and memorial service, Scott had heard muffled sobs from beyond Alan’s bedroom door. He’d gone in. They’d spoken. They’d cried. The intervention helped them both feel a little better, even if the hole their dad had left still hadn’t quite healed over.
This particular chapter I've been working on (which won't be out for some time still) has been rewritten 4 times now. I'm hoping this one will be the lucky one that sticks.
#work in progress update#fic: the long game#thunderfam#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds 2015#thunderbirds fanfiction#five fics
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Hey Thunderfam, I’ve been encouraged to reach out…
A few years before the pandemic began I had a flare of some ongoing symptoms. After many different treatments/tests etc.. I eventually had a diagnosis of Adenomyosis. This August I finally had my appointment with a rheumatologist for other symptoms and received a second diagnosis of Fibromyalgia. I’m now waiting for more tests and my MRI results on my pelvic/hips/lower back.
Obviously all of this has been one of the reasons my writing has been up and down for a few years now. Unfortunately due to a flare in April which I’m still coming out of I’ve not managed any fic writing.
At this moment I am only posting older fics on my side account @cg29fics - currently my first fic Gone.
Unfortunately I have no clue when my next WIP update or new fic will be. I really hope it will be soon. I really miss putting our lovely boys through various trauma’s 😅 before following up with a good dose of comfort but my health needs to come first.
Sending hugs to you all.
Extra thank you’s go out to @psychoseal and her lovely @gordonthegreatesttracy for their wonderful chats 💛 @drileyf & @weirdburketeer for chatting with me over on my insta and @misssquidtracy for being a wonderful support.
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Welcome to the One Prompt Challenge!!
What is this? Well since a bunch of us were chattering earlier about the possibilities of how to apply this prompt sent in to @trope-appreciation-tuesdays , Nutty and I thought why not make it a community event!
Behold, a table of every possible main character combo! (made by @gumnut-logic)
The challenge is for all of us (as Thunderfam!) to fill in as many combos as possible. There’s no time limit, there’s no dibs, just write whatever combo you want to explore and tag #ThunderbirdsOnePrompt or feel free to tag @tracybirds in the notes and I’ll update this post and we can share the enjoyment together!
Also, don’t worry if someone has already written the combo – we all approach prompts in totally unique ways and the more fics the better am I right :D
If you post on AO3 – I’ve set up a collection you can add to as well!
--
Linked Prompt:
"You don't need to worry about me," said A.
"Well, someone has to!"
B paused - they didn't mean to raise their voice. They sighed and continued
"A."
A rolled their eyes but B wasn't deterred.
"When was the last time you ate? Slept?"
A got up abruptly, hoping to avoid a lecture. Their head spun and they reached for something to steady themself, almost crashing into the bookshelf...
Masterpost can be found under the cut
Self Destruct by @gumnut-logic - Brains and Virgil
Rocks and Hard Places by @tracybirds - Jeff and Scott
TLC - by @the-original-sineater - Scott and Alan
Care & Kisses by @janetm74 - Scott and Havoc
Blow Ye Winds, Blow by @gaviiadastra - Gordon and Virgil
Spine of Steel by @soniasrsstuff - Grandma Tracy and Jeff
Time To Wrangle by @such-a-random-rambler - John and Scott
Caution to the Wind by @tracybirds - Lady Penelope and Parker
Promise by @the-original-sineater - Gordon and Kayo
I Told You So by @mariashades - John and EOS
Gordysiting by @gaviiadastra - Gordon and Scott
the inner machinations of international rescue (Chapter 3) by @tanushakyrano - Kayo and Scott
#thunderbirds#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirdsoneprompt#using numbers instead so that we can just update how many fics there are instead of placing some artificial limit :D#and I've pre-emptively put my number up there bc I'm finishing mine in a moment or two (four hours later.... xD)
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So I got under the weather - fever, sore throat, snuffles, the works. But I am "busy" (tm) and, therefore, need to be "fine" (tm). So I'm indulgently reposting a little fluffy Tracy-fever piece I wrote out this summer. I may or may not be eyeing another fever-snippet in my notes. Depends on how "fine" (tm) I am. Please, enjoy!
PUPPY BASKET
A puppy basket. Jeff didn't recall who exactly coined the term - his wife or himself. Or maybe his mother. The point was - with three kids so close in age (and then two more down the line) the flues and colds, and stomach bugs tore through the bunch like a wildfire. There was not enough manpower in the household to keep up with sick boys quarantined in different rooms. So it was just easier and more expedient to stash the sniveling and coughing, and sniffling, and generally miserable puppy ball in the master bedroom. Lucy and himself took shifts sitting vigil, giving meds and fluids, kissing burning up brows. If he were planetside, of course. Later, when the boys' mother was gone, it would be, likely, Scott's room and the elder boys taking up watch hours, while he was busy with grief and work. The one time he came home from New York to find all five boys succumbed to a flu, pretty much delirious in his room, little Alan hoarse from crying - even Scott too weak from fever to call Grandma (and too anxious to call 911 lest child services got a wiff) was a memory he didn't dare revisit often.
He could distantly recall that a feverish Scott would be restless, Virgil would be cuddly, John would be clingy. Gordon would peel off any scrap of clothes on him. Someone would invariably end up upside down with feet propped on the pillow.
That morning got him investigating in Scott's room first thing. Gordon and Alan drew a short straw and were off for a supply run early on (a bright and whistling Gordon and a grumpy half-asleep Alan). Virgil was not expected down this side of 10 am, John was just back from orbit the night before. But Scott never made it to see the Tinies (did they even call the boys that anymore? Alan was starting college in a month!) off, have his run and a morning coffee-cum-strategy session with Dad - something that had become a new, cherished routine for them. The parent alarm in him, that never lay quite dormant even through the endless night of the Oort Cloud, was now blaring full force.
Fair enough, Jeff found his eldest room in an uncharacteristic disarray - a blanket kicked off all the way from the foot of the bed down to the floor, last day clothes scattered on the carpeting - something he came to recognize more as the youngest style, not Scott, who had tried to emulate Dad's military crisp order since he was five and learned to make his own bed. Scott was soon found by his father's increasingly concerned gaze in the middle of the bed, tangled sheets and disheveled curls a testament to a night of tossing and turning, breathing shallow and raspy. Jeff's immediate guess was a nightmare - heaven knows he was no stranger to warding off those, plaguing his boy's naturally light sleep. But a fine sheen of sweat, covering Scott's face and neck, belied a different answer altogether. Jeff wasn't surprised, when the brow he reached for to smooth away the soaked fringe, was burning. Scott wasn't asleep per se - eyes squeezed shut against a headache - but he definitely wasn't alert and present either. Jeff wasn't surprised, but he was getting increasingly panicked. His own mother gave him a semi-clean bill of health and was currently in Kansas, helping a friend out. The time difference made the call tricky. Not impossible, of course, there was no inconvenience Grandma wouldn't go through for him or his boys, for which Jeff was eternally greatful, but all the more weary to disturb his getting increasingly fragile Ma more, than necessary. Kayo was visiting with her own father, so that was not an option as well. The problem was, with Grandma away, there was no medic on the island. Unless, of course... Jeff remembered Virgil determined and precise with a medscanner, and later - all business and in-trade jibberish with the medical staff at the rehab center he had to spend first months back on Earth at. Despite budding worry, as Scott keened quietly and shifted under his father's soothing touch, Jeff smiled fondly. Virgil was, arguably, the closest to his Grandpa in looks and demeanor, but it appeared he followed his Grandma's professional leanings. He should try and wake Virgil up. Scott was definitely under the weather.
As if on cue, the door opened and a gigantic burrito walked in. Jeff started. The burrito was, upon a closer inspection, a human, barefoot, wrapped up in a blanket head to toe. The walking burrito was also eliciting grunts and a lung-splitting cough. Ouch. The intruder ignored Jeff completely, sidestepped the bundle of clothes on the floor, and collapsed on the bed, next to Scott, wrapping the latter immediately in a cocoon of limbs and blanket, like a cuddle pillow. Scott is restless, Virgil is cuddly... Jeff was beginning to get a bad, bad feeling about it. A quick dive into the fluffy depths of fabric and hair confirmed his fear - Virgil had a fever too. That left...
"John!" - he had to spring from the edge of the bed with speed and agility that would make his physiotherapist proud in time to catch a swaying ginger son from planting face first on the floor. John appeared soundlessly, a ghostly vision, almost translucent where he would normally be pale. A sneeze almost send them both toppling again, but Jeff managed to maintain balance and helped John walk the short distance to the other side of the bed. There was no question how the ginger was going to spend his spiking fever - the moment he climbed onto the mattress, John attached himself to Scott side like a limpet, the way Jeff had only seen Alan do so far. When sick, Scott was restless, Virgil was cuddly, and John was clingy. Well, the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Puppy basket is go!
Jeff was halfway through the mental checklist of things he would need to make the logistics of his three eldest sons down for the count work (fluids, medscanner and monitors to keep track of the fevers, ask Brains if the medkits were in the same spots now, call Ma as soon as the time difference would permit, coax, trick and blackmail the boys into cold meds and cough syrup, call Gordon and Alan to stay away for the day and to go fetch Grandma from the farm, make sure Brains was alright and quarantined in his lab and rooms, check himself up, because Jeff needed to be on top of his game for the sick boys - the day and the following night could be tough), when a loud shriek pierced the silence of the room. Scott was frowning and trying the disentangle himself from Virgil's death grip. Jeff reached for his agitated son's shoulder and rubbed a thumb over - in the haze of the fever Scott could get disoriented and start fighting any restraint. Jeff knew the boy would never forgive himself, if he hurt Virgil, even unintentionally. But Scott was not to be easily placated. His face contorted with effort and, likely, a worsened sinus pain, to Jeff's astonishment, the young man grabbed a barely protesting John, lifted him bodily over his own frame, like he was a... well... puppy, and stuffed him into Virgil's arms, that immediately closed the hug around a different brother, as Scott rolled to the side in a sleek stealth maneuver. He would have rolled all the way over the edge of the bed, had Dad's arms not stopped him. That must have computed to the cold addled brain as "safe", since Scott stopped struggling almost immediately and let out a snuffle in a voice Jeff hadn't heard since when the kids' mother was alive. "M'hot", Scott complained without opening his eyes. Jeff reckoned he should probably be more concerned about photosensitivity and the fact any of the boys was yet to notice or acknowledge him. Jeff made an attempt to hoist Scott up against the headrest, but thought better of it as another painful moan escaped. Instead, he sort of rolled the son back to the center of the bed, closer to the pile of other brothers. Scott seemed game for that and shifted to snuggle and spoon against John's back. That elicited a hum and a sneeze from the ginger. Virgil didn't stir. Puppy basket indeed.
Satisfied that Scott was settled for the moment and the other boys seemed to have fallen asleep, Jeff felt confident enough to go looking for the fever vigil supplies and an extra coffee for himself. But he didn't leave before leaning to reach the assorted temples and forheads for the mandatory kiss better and a soft stroke. So sue him, he missed a lot longer than eight years of being their Dad first.
A detour to the infirmary, a chat with Brains, a lot more strained one with Ma and an anxious one with the Tinies later - Jeff was on his way back to Scott's rooms. Gordon and Alan, of course, offered to come back and help with their ailing brothers immediately. But Jeff shuddered at the idea of having all five of the boys sick at once. He was good, but the tenure in space was taking its toll. The youngest boys would be well supervised under Grandma's watchful eye, till it was safe (or absolutely necessary- something Jeff tried not to dwell on) to return to the island.
The sight that greeted him upon return to the bedroom tugged the corners of his lips up despite himself. Seeing his sons sick or hurting in any way brought him no joy, but the picture was just too precious and hilarious at the same time. John had shifted upside down, somehow, so Virgil was now cuddling his brother's feet. John was also curled in an upside down ball, head resting on Scott's stomach. Scott, in an attempt to cool off, cast his long, long limbs every which way, including over Virgil's lap and head, in a comical replication of the Vitruvian Man. As Jeff stepped in, though, the eldest shifted again, to curl himself around John protectively and to draw Virgil into a side hug. Jeff needed to go ahead with the med scanners and to get the boys awake long enough to make sure they got a drink of electrolytes and some saltines, but first he paused to reach for his comm watch and snap a picture of the puppy basket. He would cherish the moment while it lasted. And he could always use it as blackmail backup against these three running themselves to the ground - under the threat of the photo being leaked to the Tinies.
#thunderbirds are go#scott tracy#scott tracy needs a hug#virgil tracy#john tracy#jeff tracy#jeff tracy needs a license update in fathering#thunderbirds 2015#scott tracy needs his dad#my fic#methinks i have astronomy
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Broken Promise part 6
It’s been a long time since I last updated this story and I’m blaming life.
It’s a bitch.
And distracts you from things that make you happy.
Like hurting John Tracy...
Always have time to read it though, so if you’ve got any hurt John recs wing them my way <3
Here we are and here be Scott:
Thunderbird two didn’t give them any answers. When fuel hit critical, the craft landed itself safely. It was one of the systems John hadn’t managed to take out when he took control. The onboard cameras, however…
Scott lashed out at the wall to the hanger. His knuckles throbbed, and he stared at his hand. The hairs on the back of his neck lifted with the eyes of his younger brothers. He didn’t turn to them but spoke over his shoulder.
“What is it?”
“Eos needs us in the lounge. There’s a message. It’s important—
Scott spun around, startling Gordon back. Alan peeked out from behind him but didn’t let his gaze linger on Scott for too long. He knew he looked a mess, wild and desperate, but with everything that had happened, he didn’t care.
“Is it them?” he demanded, marching forward. Gordon and Alan retreated quickly, leading Scott towards the lounge. If they noticed him knocking from wall to wall down the corridor, they didn’t mention it.
The lack of sleep was making the walls warp and his stomach churn.
He swayed on the spot in the lounge. “Eos. Please.”
“It’s from the hood.”
Scott fell back and landed on the couch. His teeth clicked together at the impact. He took a deep breath. “Play the message.”
The hood appeared in front of them. Alan didn’t hold in his gasp. Gordon cursed. Scott didn’t react. It wasn’t just the hood. The projection displayed an unconscious Virgil, barely held upright by a man on either side.
The hood smiled. “I thought I got lucky with one Tracy brother under my control, but two….” He laughed, a manic cackle that turned over the bile in Scott’s throat. The hood turned to the men with Virgil. “Strap him down and get him ready.”
They dragged Virgil away, then the hood turned back to the camera.
“The next time you see him, he’ll have no idea who you are.”
The message ended. Scott glared at the space where the hood had been. “Eos, can you trace where it came from?”
“I tried…but whoever is masking the location knows what they’re doing.”
“John’s masking it.”
Eos said nothing.
Footsteps pounded behind Scott, rushing outside. He didn’t have the energy to turn his head to see which brother had fled, he didn’t have the energy to move an inch. It wasn’t anger that pinned him to his seat, but defeat. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t save Virgil from the same fate that had taken John from them.
“I’ll go after him,” Gordon whispered.
He walked away and left Scott alone in the lounge.
“Put the message on repeat.”
“Scott—"
“Eos, please. I want to see him.” He scrunched up his face and clarified. “I want to see my brother.”
Before he was no longer Scott’s brother.
The message repeated. Scott fell into an exhausted trance, blocking out the hood, and what he was saying, and just looking at a limp Virgil. He gripped his head in his hands, rocking forward and back. He didn’t know how long he sat there. It was long enough that he saw the sun fading over Tracy island out of the corner of his eye.
Eos stopped repeating the message and tried to reason with him, but Scott slammed his eyes shut and saw Virgil behind them. He saw John too and replayed his broken promise to keep him safe.
Eos kept saying his name. She was speaking with someone else too. Scott didn’t know if it was Alan or Gordon that had come back, but they were keeping their distance, not interrupting his breakdown.
“You try...” Eos said.
Scott didn’t know what was said back, but Eos persisted. Scott tensed. He didn’t want a comforting arm on him, or one of grandma’s kisses. He didn’t want a voice to tell him everything would be okay in the end, because he knew it wouldn’t be. He’d lost two brothers, and it was only a matter of time before he’d lose Alan and Gordon as well, to grief, or the hood.
“Scott…”
The uncertainty of the voice stopped him from spiralling any further. It was hesitant, wary in a way it never should be, but still recognisable.
Scott lowered his hands and opened his eyes. “John…”
John’s hologram floated in front of him. As soon as their eyes connected, John looked away. He was dressed in black, with dark circles under his green eyes, and scratches across his pale face.
Scott couldn’t find his voice.
It was only them in the lounge.
“I don’t remember you.” John blurted. “But that isn’t important right now. I can’t let them do to Virgil what they did to me. I…I need your help.”
“My…help?”
Scott pinched the back of his hand, and tears prickled his eyes when the pain registered. John wasn’t a dream, or a hallucination, he really was being projected into the lounge.
“Help me save him.”
Scott nodded, then choked up a laugh. “Of course.”
He shot to his feet, only to sway and sit back down again. He got up slowly and managed to keep his balance.
John waited until he’d stopped swaying. “Virgil is being prepped for the first implant on the floor below me.”
“Scott,” Eos said. “John has let me into the hoods network. I know where his base is. It’s a small island in the Pacific.”
“What?” Scott shook his head. “That can’t be…”
“It isn’t too far. You’ve flown over it hundreds of times, but it’s cleverly concealed.”
“Send the coordinates to thunderbird two,” Scott ordered.
“Already done.”
“John!”
Scott jumped at Alan’s voice. John flinched and didn’t look towards him or Gordon who'd burst back into the villa. He gritted his teeth, and continued, “I need to get to Virgil, but the hood will come after me, and…”
He winced and grabbed his head. “When that happens I won't be able to help him. As soon as thunderbird two appears, self-destruct measures will be activated. The hood will know I’ve betrayed him and want to destroy all evidence of what he was doing here.”
“Self-destruct?”
“The base will explode. All of it. I will stop them before they can start the process on Virgil, but I need you to get him out."
"I'll get him out." Scott said. "I'll get you both out. I promise."
John glanced at something over his shoulder. “I need to go. Please hurry.”
His hologram blinked out.
Scott rushed out of the lounge with Gordon hot on his heels. “What if it’s a trap?”
“A trap?”
“Yeah.” Gordon twisted to face Alan. “Doesn’t it reek of a trap to you?”
Alan didn’t answer.
“Scott,” Gordon said, grabbing Scott’s shoulder. “Think about it.”
“I don’t believe it’s a trap,” Eos said. “I have full access to the hoods systems and can see the base.”
“Notify the GDF,” Scott demanded. “Tell them the location.”
“Now we’re leading a load of people into the hoods trap.” Gordon shook his head. “John is under the hood's control. He stole thunderbird one and tried to take thunderbird two and, in the process, gave the hood Virgil. Now all three of us are going to him because John’s told us to.” He sighed. “We can’t trust him. How did he even do that? How did he appear in the lounge like that?”
“He spoke to me through thunderbird five,” Eos said. “He asked about my origin and apologised for threatening to destroy me. I, like you Gordon, thought it was a trap, but he told me what happened with Virgil on thunderbird two.”
“What did he say?” Alan asked.
“Virgil gave him back the stars.”
“Scott!”
He paused halfway across the hanger and shot a glance at Brains. “We’ve got to go—”
“I know.” Brains panted. He held something metal in his hands. “Take this.”
“Magneto’s helmet?” Gordon said. “Why the hell do we need that?”
“Get it on John’s head. It’ll block the signal from the hood’s device.”
Scott rushed over to get it. “Thanks, Brains.”
A small smile twitched his lips. “Bring them both home.”
*********************************************************************************
Scotty to the rescue of course!
tagging @jbarkerstargazer in case you’re still interested <3
#thunderbirds fiction#thunderbirds fandom#thunderbirds fanfiction#john tracy#scott tracy#thunderbirds are go#fic update#thunderbirds
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07/06/2023
Hello!
Obligatory however-many-monthly post to say I am not dead and have all my usual intentions to Fandom, but am still dealing with a fucktonne of life shit, which includes but is not limited to:
a) Taking the National Disability Insurance Scheme to the Administrative Appeals Tribunal for my elder sister
b) Getting diagnoses and treatment for the younger sister (however pissed off, unwilling and downright effing nasty she acts toward everyone for everything)
c) Trying to get my own ducks in a row still (mental health and self-esteem ones mostly: they are ever-continuingly obstinate and refuse to do anything I demand of them), however I DID do a trial shift at an Opportunity Shop near me yesterday, so we’ll see how that goes. Got ten to trial and see if I want to stick with it but I was exhausted yesterday mentally and emotionally so who the hell knows??
Have a picture of the bag that took me a solid year to finish, (and am still adding sewn elements to as I use it more and more) but I am so happy with it!!
I’m slowly working on teaching myself to knit and aiming to learn crochet too (and have fallen headlong down the hole that is learning to sew on a machine) so I am doing things that get me talking to people in the “real” world, but THAT is an ever-changing balancing act that I still don’t understand at 30. (It is so very, very frustrating.)
I am moving onto a rainbow blanket next, queen size; lord help me. Therefore, please also see my tentative ‘plan’ for how I want it to look, courtesy of someone who has never written a knitting pattern ever and knows full well this is NOT one of them. 😂
Hope all my buddies in Thunderfam are well. I’m so behind on fanfic updates at the moment for reading, let alone writing but hopefully I get past this several-years-long block I’m dealing with soon, I miss it!!!
Pyre. Xx
#pyre talks#thunderbirds#thunderbirds are go#fandom#pyre rambles#fanfiction#updates#rl musings#rl shit#this’ll probably get lost in the aether again but oh well#can only try
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NEW CHAPTER IS UP!
Look at me being all consistent for once in my life..how long can I keep this up? I give it another week, two at the most.
Anyway, here it be, don't all crowd round at once, click the link if you wanna read.
Picture of this beautiful boy for attention because look at him!
And here's the link again in case you got distracted by that face!
Herehereherehere
#john tracy#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds#thunderbirds 2015#thunderbirds fanfiction#paranormalromance#witch#thunderbirdsarego#selene tempest#new chapter#chapter update#fan fiction#fanfiction#fanfic update#fan art#thunderbirds fandom#thunderbirds fanart
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Mozilla Patches Firefox Vulnerability Allowing Remote Code Execution, Sandbox Escape
Mozilla on Tuesday announced security updates for both Firefox and Thunderbird, to address 20 vulnerabilities, including several memory safety issues.
Firefox 121 was released with patches for 18 vulnerabilities, five of which have a ‘high’ severity rating.
At the top of the list is CVE-2023-6856, a heap buffer overflow bug in WebGL, the JavaScript API for rendering interactive graphics within…
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how to keep following people when a major social platform implodes
(...and you don't want to join 20 new websites)
First, get an RSS reader*-- here are some free options:
Desktop: Feedbro (browser extension), Fraidycat** (browser extension/web), Thunderbird, Dreamwidth (web)
Android: Feeder
iOS/Mac: NetNewsWire
You'll be able to make a custom feed to follow blogs, webcomics, social media feeds, podcasts, news, and other stuff on the web all in one place. To follow something, find its "feed URL"-- often marked by an icon that looks like this ↓-- and paste it into your reader of choice as a new feed.
Some feed URLs for social media/other sites:
Tumblr: Use username.tumblr.com/rss or username.tumblr.com/tagged/my%20art/rss to follow a blog's "my art" tag (as an example)
Cohost: Use username.cohost.org/rss/public
Mastodon: Use instance.url/@username.rss
Deviantart: Info here
Spacehey: Info here
Youtube: Go to a channel in a web browser, view page source, and use Ctrl-F/Command-F to find a link that starts with "https://www.youtube.com/feeds/videos.xml?channel_id="
Reddit: Info here
Lemmy: At the top of a community's main page, there's a small RSS link next to where you sort posts/comments.
Some additions thanks to @innumerablewounds:
Dreamwidth: https://username.dreamwidth.org/rss (users can opt out of this).
Ao3: Tags have an "RSS Feed" button.
Bluesky: Add /rss to the end of a URL.
Neocities: https://neocities.org/site/username.rss
Sites that won't work all that great:
Twitter: Feedbro and Fraidycat** may be able to use Twitter profile URLs as feed URLs. Otherwise, use nitter.net/username/rss (or other Nitter instance) Public Nitter instances are dead/dying, and Twitter is now very hostile to pretty much anything that makes it easy to generate an RSS feed. For popular accounts, try this workaround using Google News...?
Instagram: Feedbro may be able to use Instagram profile and hashtag URLs as feed URLs. Check Feedbro's "scan interval" setting-- you could be rate limited or temporarily IP banned from Instagram if it makes requests too often!
Facebook: Feedbro may be able to use public Facebook group/page URLs as feed URLs, but see the warnings for Instagram.
Threads: Come on.
Also see how to find the RSS feed URL for almost any site. Try using public RSS-Bridge instances or Happyou Final Scraper to generate feeds for sites that don't have them (Pillowfort, Patreon, etc).
*You can set up your subscriptions in one reader and import them into another by exporting an OPML file.
**Fraidycat's intended use is following a lot of people across different sites, so it's well-suited for this post and I'd recommend keeping an eye on it-- but I didn't recommend it initially because I had some issues with it, and it hasn't been updated in a while. The last time I used it, it didn't have a setting to change how often it makes requests to websites, causing me to get IP banned from Twitter and Instagram...
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