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Thank you sm!! Of course I can do that for you!! ₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶₎

Here they are, just a couple of nerds.✨

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I need a fic where Phones is truly pissed, and it scares the people around him. Like the calmest guy on the team gets so mad he starts to cuss out the one who did something wrong to his found family

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"Hero types are boring"

I raise you Buzz Lightyear not reacting to a swat team in his house to arrest him and refusing to stop his crossword puzzle, and even calmly critiquing the swat team on their form.

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WIP WEDNESUNDAY

I missed it this week so have at it. Mild spoilers for In Titan's Shadow hence the cut. Ttfn ✌️...

By rights, it should have been an Aquanaught who accomanied him. Or captained the ship, too for that matter.

But there wasn't time for Fisher to pass his exams or run the Stingray siulations. they'd needed someone already famiuar with Stingray and at short notice.

As well as to be a distraction for their enemies, worse case scenario if things had gone wrong then Stingray would have been the best to get in close to Titanica for either retreat or an evacuation.

And out of his two leitenants, Atlanta also had expertise needed to coordinate not only the potentully five ships, relay the radios between them and roll with whatever else Titan threw at them; but also the additional equiment brought on Stingray to do that.

Sam was very glad of result, even he was very biased. Given the choice had been taken out of his hands, at least he couldnt be accused of faverotism. or worse nepotism.

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WIP Wednesday

Because I'm off work sick and actually remembered for once!

The last one I posted promised a future of whump, so have something far softer and fluffier this week instead. Ft baby!Scott getting momma cuddles.

“Now,” She cooed as she bounced Scott in her arms, headed back to the nursery, “what’s wrong, Scotty?”

The thunder outside rolled closer, its boom not dissimilar to the jets they often watched coming and going on the runway. She could feel how her baby curled closer at the noise though, and knew that he was smart enough to know the difference. 

“That?” She asked softly as she pulled the curtain back, holding him so he could see the rain if he wanted to, “That’s just thunder, Scotty, just the gods moving their furniture about, my Momma used to say. There’s lots of stories about it though, the Greeks blame Zeus, and the Scandi’s blame Thor - but I think you’re a bit young to appreciate what Hemsworth did for Thor’s reputation.”

She smiled down to him as he watched her, not even noticing the flash of light beyond the window. Wiping his tears from his cheeks, she turned to the rocking chair and took a seat as she continued.

“I like the indigenous story the best, that there’s a great Thunderbird watching over us. He’s strong and powerful, but kind to those that ask for his help. It’s he that creates the storms and rain that water the crops on the farm,” She paused as the thunder rolled over the house, “Hear that? That’s his wings as he flies.”

Scott curled closer, his hand fisting in her dressing-gown. 

“It’s okay, baby.” She soothed, rocking the chair gently as she covered his hand with her own, “He won’t hurt you.”

Bending over him, she kissed his downy hair, “Momma won’t ever let anyone hurt you.”

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lmao im supposed to illustrate for a school project but say hello to alan studies instead

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Vocal Chords

Virgil tried to work a finger into the collar that dug into the flesh of his neck. A sharp smack knocked his hand away, his own fingers slapping his jaw. “Ow!”

“Cut that out, kiddo.” Grandma was unrepentant, and started fussing with the collar, ensuring it sat to her satisfaction, before finally grasping the tie and reseating it firmly against his throat.

“Gah!” Virgil choked. “Can’t breathe, Grandma!”

“You can breathe fine, kid. I don’t know. You never used to complain when you had to dress up for piano recitals.”

A rasping sound had Virgil glaring at Scott. “Don’t you start. If you’d only listened when we told you to wait, you’d not have caught that cold, you wouldn’t have developed laryngitis, and I wouldn’t be here doing your job for you.”

Scott held up his hands defensively, before signing “Sorry”.

Virgil’s glare didn’t let up.

“I still don’t know why you couldn’t do it. We had enough recordings of you practising that you could have just lipsinced to it.”

“Because everytime Scott practised his speech, Gordon played his ‘subsonic’ sound effects in the next room. When they were played back, all you could hear was ghost noises, explosions and fart noises.” Kayo wasn’t even trying to pretend she wasn’t finding this amusing.

Virgil turned his attention to John. “And don’t you think for one second that the speed with which you ‘came down’ with the laryngitis isn’t suspicious. I don’t know what you've blackmailed Grandma with, but I will find out.”

Grandma sighed. “There’s no blackmail, Virgil dear. John just spends too much time in orbit, and his immune system isn’t up to spec.”

Virgil turned a dark look at John. “I am so revising your allowable flight hours,” he growled.

John shrugged and gave Virgil a look that was so clearly an ‘I dare you’ with promises of retribution that even Kayo stepped away from the line of fire.

The sound from the crowd hidden behind the curtain swelled to a roar, and Virgil paled and gulped.

“Why can’t you do it, Scott?” He asked, eyes a little wild. “You can sign and a translator can speak?”

Scott frowned. “We’ve been over this, Virgil,” he signed. “Just having a Tracy on stage isn’t enough, it needs to be a Tracy’s voice.”

Virgil’s shoulders fell. “Why can’t Grandma do it?”

“Wrong image, kiddo. This is about the future. Having some old fossil banging on about the future isn’t going to work.”

“You’re not old Grandma,” Virgil mumbled.

“You’re a good boy, Virgil. But yes I am, the hint is in the title: ‘Grandma’.” She tapped the underneath of his chin to lift his head. “I’m old enough to qualify for a new title: ‘Great-Grandma’.”

“Gordon wanted to do it,” Virgil was clutching at straws. “He even re-wrote the speech…”

John poked him sharply in the ribs, before signing, “He was going to announce the re-working of all aerospace and astrospace manufacturing facilities into marine engineering facilities. By this time tomorrow we’d be lucky to have the shirts on our backs!”

Scott pushed him back. “Gordon has a public profile that … isn’t compatible with this arena.” There was an apologetic expression on his face.

“It will be okay, Virgil. The teleprompter is there, just read off what it says. I’ll be right next to you there. We’re skipping the live Q&A in favour of a virtual one. The MC is making my apologies, and explaining the laryngitis. The stagelights are set to hide the audience. You won’t see them. Just go out there, and read what the teleprompter says.”

While Virgil was focused on Scott’s hands, Grandma had been rubbing soothing circles on Virgil’s back. And somewhere, amongst all that, without Virgil realising it, he was now standing on the edge of the stage, right by the curtain.

Virgil started as the huge yawning space between him and the podium stretched out into infinity. Somewhere, over the sound of the MCs slick professional patter setting out the agenda for the day he could hear the sounding of rustling, people moving, the occasional cough, the sound of breathing. Oh, god, he could hear them breathing. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t…

A soft chime sounded in his discreet earpiece. “Thunderbird Two, standby.” It was EOS, and the use of the callsign had Virgil’s breathing evening out, and his spine straightening.

“Thunderbird Two, deploy.”

And with Scott leading the way, and acknowledging the audience, Virgil Tracy – Thunderbird Two – stepped onto the stage.

Notes:

Work has been eating both all my time, and apparently, all my brain. But I’ve finally got a piece written for Febuwhump!

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

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Requested by @writerdarkflamespyre

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Marionettes do not bark, no one knows why they both resorted to this.

Specialists are baffled

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Marionettes do not bark, no one knows why they both resorted to this.

Specialists are baffled

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FEBUWHUMP 2025 PROMPT

DAY 7: alternate timeline self TAG - author's choice

Of Gods and Men

@febuwhump day 7. This fic prompt prompted a lot of discussion...

~

Scott rolled his shoulders as he strode down the street, politely smiling at the passersby who called out his name but not stopping to engage with anyone.

He was on a mission.

Five months in the hellish swampland that was the enchanter’s kingdom had been enough to last him a lifetime, and he’d missed the open sky and rich, warm sea breezes of home.

That wasn’t all he’d missed.

His betrothed was waiting for him in their villa. He’d been due to marry when spies from Belah Gaat had tried to poison his Father, King Jeff, and such a declaration of war could not be ignored. As his father’s eldest son it was his duty to lead his brothers and his Father’s army in his stead, so the wedding had been delayed.

There was nothing stopping him now, though, and he could see her waiting for him in the courtyard. Breaking out in a wide smile, Scott sped up to meet her, catcher up in a hug and swinging them around.

‘My darling Tanusha! How I have missed you!’ ‘And I have missed you too, my Lord.’

Scott laughed and kissed her soundly. She’d been there at the palace for the victory celebrations, but that was public and both of them were not seekers of the limelight. Unlike certain of Scott’s brothers…but then he was older and wiser than his youngest two, and they would learn.

Tonight they would all meet up again at the palace, but this time it would be a family only affair. His Father was still weak from the poison and Scott had worried about him every day of the war. He knew the healers Hiram and Meera would do everything they could to help him, and Tanusha’s father would not leave the King’s side.

They spent the day together, pottering about the garden, checking the small apple orchard in the west of their grounds and just being with each other, taking every opportunity they could before the evening came. But eventually they couldn’t wait any longer to get ready.

When Jeff had told them the meal would be a family affair only Scott should have known better. Being a crown prince of a small city-state meant ‘a quiet family affair’ meant them, the heads of the courtiers and anyone who happened to be in the city to visit.

The evening was in full swing. Four courses had been eaten and they were quietly chatting while the dancing girls got busy when suddenly a bright white light filled the centre of the room.

Everyone and everything stopped.

The light coalesced into the unmistakeable form of Hera, Queen of the Gods.

There was the scraping of chairs and the sound of clothing as to a man they all either fell to their knees or bowed as low as they could.

Hera smiled and looked at the raised dais where the Tracy family sat.

‘Scott Tracy. You have pleased me greatly. Your quick actions saved your father and your resultant victory brought me great praise.’

Scott bowed even lower, keeping his eyes to the ground so that Hera couldn’t see his flushed face.

‘As a reward I give you my favoured handmaiden, Hannah, as your wife.’

At a gesture from Hera’s hand there was a flash of light and a young woman stood in front of them.

The silence became awkward as Scott, eyes wide, glanced at Tanusha before moving to kneel before the Queen.

‘O Hera, Queen of the Gods and Man, I am not worthy of such a prestigious gift.’ ‘I have pronounced you worthy. Do not negate what I have stated.’

Scott placed his forehead to the ground as he saw Hera frown. He swallowed.

‘O Queen Hera, I am honoured by your gift…however, I – I am sorry but I am betrothed to another.’ ‘You are refusing my gift?’ ‘O Hera…’ ‘SILENCE.’

Jeff immediately shut his mouth but his heart did not stop pounding in his chest as his eldest son stayed prostrate before the most powerful Goddess in the pantheon. He said a quick prayer to Astraeus, his personal God.

He stole a look at the girl that had materialised in front of them. She was a mere slip of a girl, much shorter than Scott and even Tanusha. Her eyes had not risen from the floor since she’d appeared, hands clasped in front of her. Her hair was almost as white as the pure linen that she was clothed in, and unusually for a woman her hair was short.

Hera glared at Scott. At Jeff and at her own handmaiden. She was gritting her teeth and her eyes were flashing.

‘Scott. I will teach you the meaning of obeying your Goddess. Tanusha can mourn your death in silence. Hannah, you have displeased me. Begone.’

And in another blinding flash Hera, Scott and Hannah disappeared. People couldn’t wait to get out of the building but Jeff and his sons gathered around Tanusha. The young woman was crying but when she went to talk there was no sound at all.

After making sure that Tanusha was settled in Scott’s old room with Virgil keeping watch over her, Jeff quickly made his way to the family shrine where he collapsed in front of the small scene. There stood his household god – Astraeus, god of the stars – beside his wife Lucy and his father.

‘Please, please look after my boy. Please, Astraeus. And that poor girl Hannah. And take care of Tanusha. None of them deserve to suffer. Please, I will do anything you want, Astraeus just please, help my boy. Help Scott.’

He poured out the wine onto the altar stone and placed the diamond and gold star pendant his wife had gifted him on their wedding day. It was his most treasured possession.

There wasn’t much else Jeff could do. He knelt and pressed his face to the ground in front of Astraeus and then Lucy and made his way to his bedroom. He needed to be strong for all his boys. Jeff wiped his face and went to bed knowing that he wouldn’t sleep but he’d go through the motion anyway.

~

Scott sighed and stretched as he made his way up to his room. Today’s training had been hard but ultimately productive and the newest item for IR had been passed for further field testing.

He was brushing his teeth when the alarm sounded. Throwing down his toothbrush and speeding from the room, listening as EOS told them all there was an intruder in the living room.

But Scott skidded to a halt as he came face to face with…himself. Clothed in a knee-length chiton and a royal blue himation – words Scott only knew due to that one semester of Greek Mythology in Oxford – the intruder stared back, looking startled.

But the man’s face drained of all colour when Kayo rushed in. He took a step towards her, whispered her name and grabbed hold of her arm.

‘Tanusha?’

And Kayo threw him over her shoulder, kneeling on him and pulling his arms behind his back and securing them with zip ties.

‘Scott …’ ‘Yes?’ ‘Yes?’

Both men answered her simultaneously.

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Got to doodling again! Ofc my fave besties TinTin and Gordon and we next Scott and John.

John's bitching abt smth, Scott just woke up and wants to hear everything abt it.

I also have TinTin art coming soon :pp

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The Odyssey but Penelope has been slowly killing off suitors one by one via poisoning and staged accidents >>>

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Some Penny and Gordon art at last!!!  (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ i love these two so much

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Shigeru Komatsuzaki's box art for Thunderbirds model kits.

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Sarpa Sarpa

@room-on-broom asked: @febuwhump Day 5: Not Trusting Reality @loopstagirl recommended Gordon The rest, as they say, is history.

~

A three-day break on the French Riviera was just the tonic Gordon needed. Rescues had been thick and fast and the last one was the straw that broke the camel’s back - almost literally.

Three days on his strongest painkillers followed by a week of intense physio and at least he could move now, even if it wasn’t as freely as he’d like it to be.

So Grandma had ordered him to go away for a few days, Penny had said she had a thing in France and would he like to accompany her and Gordon and said yes before finding out what said ‘thing’ was…

The ‘thing’ turned out to be the Cannes Film Festival where Lady Penelope Creighton-ward was attending as representative of a documentary being screened. Resigned to being bored out of his skull, Gordon found himself pleasantly surprised by a documentary about Penny’s ongoing project to turn old, polluting oil rigs into clean solar energy collectors and the impact that was having on marine life.

As a treat Penny has said he was welcome to spend the next day exploring the town they were staying at while she had more duties to perform in Cannes, and after he’d suitably protested and Penny had appropriately demurred his words Gordon found himself alone and set about exploring Saint Tropez.

The town was so beautiful. Gordon wasn’t the brother who usually appreciated architecture but this was so lovely that he made his mind up to get Virgil here. Somewhere at the back of his mind there was the knowledge (he’d rapidly consumed when Penny had first suggested Saint Tropez) that there was a thriving artist community here. It would suit Virgil down to the ground – the perfect beach, the crystal blue water and the beautiful buildings.

He rounded off the morning at the fish market. It blew his mind! There were so many varieties of fish, they were beautifully laid out and he was happy as a skylark on a spring day. Gordon picked two prime sea bream, had them wrapped and then delivered them to the hotel along with a huge quantity of other fish he’d splurged out on on a whim.

The head chef, delighted at the quality of fish Gordon had bought, changed the evening menu completely and promised the two sea bream would be specially prepared for him and Penny.

Gordon spent the rest of the afternoon in the pool planning out their evening meal and what they would fill the remaining hours with. It was early spring and it was so beautiful here that he wanted to rent a boat after dinner and just hang out on the ocean until the stars studded the sky.

Yes, that was perfect! Gordon exited the pool and as he got ready he called John and asked him to book everything he wanted. John was only too happy to oblige and as Penny entered the suite Gordon had everything arranged.

The chef had outdone himself. Starting with the tiniest square of toasted sourdough topped with finely sliced apple, an even smaller square of goat’s cheese and a smear of locally produced wildflower honey, he followed it with a simple salt bake for the fish with a courgette salad and a small dish of herb sorbet that had a hint of orange that was surprisingly refreshing.

They complemented the chef profusely before heading out to the waiting motorboat. Gordon steered them out into the open, stopping when the lights of Saint Tropez were a twinkling on the horizon.

They lounged on the seat, drinking sparkling water and generally chatting, catching up on their separate lives until they were talked out, sitting companionably watching the fireworks over the city.

Gordon blinked and frowned. Turning to Penny he almost jumped out of his skin, instead leaping up from his seat and yelling.

‘Get away from me!’ ‘Gordon?’ ‘Get away from me! What – what are you?’ ‘Darling, whatever is the matter?’ ‘What have you done with Penny?’

In Penny’s place was what Gordon could only describe as a woman with a bird’s head – the fact that this was a Kea head was not lost on him – and every time the bird opened its mouth it was screaming at him.

He backed away until he was on the opposite end of the boat before darting down into the cabin and bolting the door behind him.

Penny stared after him before pulling out her compact.

‘Penny, I wasn’t expec…’ ‘John! There’s something wrong with Gordon! We need help!’ ‘Sending Virgil now.’ ‘No, John. I need faster. Send Scott.’ ‘FAB. He’s already on his way.’

It was not long afterwards that One screamed to a halt above their boat but it felt like hours to Penny. She’d banged on the door but every time she tried to get through to him Gordon would yell back and scream for her.

Scott dropped from One like a stone. Penny had already filled him in on what was going on so he wasted no time trying to get through the cabin door. He applied one of Alan’s tin can openers and kicked it in.

Gordon was curled up under the small table, hands covering his ears. His eyes were wide and wild. All this Scott took in in a moment before reaching out to his brother. And then he jumped back as his brother screamed at him.

‘Virgil, can you see?’ ‘See and hear, Scott. I think you’ll need to knock him out somehow.’ ‘Tranq?’ ‘No, better not. I’ve no idea what Gordon’s been drugged with and it may contraindicate.’ ‘Suggestions?’ ‘If he can’t be safely moved you’re gonna have to knock him out for real.’ ‘Oh.’

Scott took a deep breath and looked at Penny, who gave him an encouraging nod. He turned back to Gordon and tried once more to talk to him, but again his brother started yelling at him and trying to make himself even smaller in the tiny gap.

Sighing, Scott knew there was only one thing to do. Moving quickly and keeping in mind that his brother was a squid at all times – and a WASP-trained one at that – Scott hauled Gordon out and quickly twisted until he had him in a sleeper hold. It wasn’t easy in the confined space, but that actually worked in Scott’s favour and eventually Gordon was unconscious.

Penny wiped a tear from her face as she watched Scott transfer Gordon to One before returning for her. There wasn’t really much room in One but what she lacked in space she more than made up for in speed, and before Penny had even managed to get comfortable Scott was telling her to strap in for landing.

Nothing was said as Scott landed One on her sister’s runway where Virgil and Grandma were waiting, and before long the four of them were rushing Gordon to the infirmary while Scott landed One properly. Virgil had, with only the smallest of pauses, strapped his brother down – which proved wise as Gordon began to stir.

Gordon, seeing bird people all around him screaming at him, began to scream back, yelling for John to help him. One of the birds bit him hard but two of the others backed away, leaving only the biter and an older bird. He ignored the tears streaming down his face and tried to stare defiantly at them.

Virgil rushed the blood test off to the analyser and set about waiting for the results. It didn’t take long since he was pretty convinced that Gordon had been spiked and sure enough the results for…huh. Not LSD, which is the drug Virgil had assumed it would be, but something very close.

Brains also went ‘huh’ but his was more interesting, and Virgil looked over to him as he began typing away on his tablet.

‘I – I think I know w-w-what’s wrong with G-G-Gordon.’ ‘You do? What is it?’ ‘There w-w-was an article a couple of days ag-g-go. Two men w-w-with the same symptoms.’ ‘They were drugged?’ ‘No – they had eaten s-s-sea bream that was i-i-infected. Here.’

He passed Virgil the tablet and there was a news article about two men who had eaten sea bream and a couple of hours later had begun to hallucinate. The descriptions were eerily similar to what Gordon was now mumbling about – bird people trying to attack him.

Virgil read on and sighed in relief. 24-36 hours they could expect Gordon to be high on a psychedelic fish that was warping his reality. No wonder Gordon couldn’t trust what he saw, what he thought he saw. They just had to hold out until then.

Penny didn’t leave Gordon’s side until eventually he woke from an uneasy sleep and finally recognised her for who she really was.

‘Penny? I had the strangest dream.’ ‘Well, it’s all over now, my love. It’s all over now.’