#brains (thunderbirds

[skymaiden32]

Happy New Year everyone!

Timelapse under read more:

(Time taken: Approx. 3-4 hrs)

[squiddokiddo]

Thunderbird emoji combos: Brains edition✨

[edorazzi]

A couple more Thunderbirds Are Go comics I finally had time to finish up! 🚀

The Mechanic's grudgingly settling in at Tracy Island, and Brains would love him to open up and become part of the family! Unfortunately there's no way to hide what iR are like in their natural habitat so his efforts are going nowhere...

And the Hood likes to believe he's iR's most dangerous, intimidating, classy nemesis! But the boys are not above humiliating pranks to make him back off. Thirsting after their dad and now taking it out on Scott?! The shame!!! >:0

[thatkidwholikesthunderbirds]

Here you go!! They just being silly. :3

Feel free to drop me an ask if you want something drawn!!

[colourobserver]

Now that I think about it...

In TAG the fact all of the Tracy family still believed that Jeff could be alive is really unhealthy. Like if we are being realistic, they watched their dad get blown up. They searched for ages, and they did everything they could for years. But getting to the 8 year mark and still not having closure, must have wrecked them. I know it sounds bad, but it would have been far more rational if they just grieved his death like it was a real death and gave up looking for what only could have been a body. I know it's not necessarily a choice to just let someone go, but the fact the Tracy Brothers (specifically Scott and Virgil) were saying they were going to find him, is just wow. Obviously, it's great they didn't give up because well, you know. But still...I think about that a lot.

[idontknowreallywhy]

Following in his footsteps

a.k.a. How to Infuriate Your Engineer

Finished this idea off on the commute so apologies for typos, clumsy wording and for inconsistencies in the sounds Brains stutters on…

It’s a bit of a mystery as to why Scott, the first born, was named after the 4th of the Mercury Seven whose flight and piloting decisions were somewhat controversial and left him in conflict with flight control (sound familiar?). Anyway I find myself intrigued by that particular 1960’s flyboy, particularly as to one thing he did 1/3 of the way through his trip with his fuel running low…

✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️

“S-SCOTT C-C-CARPENTER TRACY!!!”

John later confirmed that this was indeed the first time in Tracy history that Brains ever been apoplectic enough to middle name any of them. His ire was usually quiet and dry, with occasional sarcasm. Every so often some non-vital but comfort-providing item might be removed from a Thunderbird for “essential maintenance”… the cushioning of One’s pilot seat, the power supply to Two’s coffee machine…

But generally, after more than a decade living with the Tracys, their long-suffering engineer had cultivated the talent of providing emotionally restrained feedback. Albeit there was good reason MAX was unable to mimic the phrases that were muttered over mangled landing gear, flooded engines, overstrained thrusters and the like.

This Wednesday morning, however, something had clearly pushed him over the edge.

“What did you doooo?” Alan hissed in alarm and was immediately shushed by a heavily frowning Virgil, whose fingers appeared unable to release the unfortunately tense chord he’d just leaned into. John’s hologram popped up looking serious. Even Gordon looked incredibly uncomfortable.

From the guilt-ridden look on Scott’s face, he could think of least three reasons his neck might be on the block this morning.

A tightly wound ball of fury approached the seating area and the speed with which International Rescue’s commander leapt from the couch betrayed his initial instinct to bolt from the room and never stop running. However, decades of experience of facing the music from many and varied sources meant his feet remained firmly rooted to the floor, while the rest of his body sought the security of parade rest.

Brains stood in front of him vibrating with rage. The ends of MAX’s arms were positioned at an approximation of where the robot’s hips might be. The room held its breath. Virgil’s foot remained wedged against the sustain pedal. The melodramatic chord continued reverberating around the lounge.

The engineer suddenly raised a hand and everyone flinched. Had their friend finally resorted to violence?

Scott closed his eyes and awaited whatever engineering justice was deemed merited for… whatever it was he had done.

But the shorter man’s movement as he reached up to Scott’s face was slow, deliberate and with a slight frown of concentration he stuck a 75mm square of blue duct tape precisely in the middle of Scott’s forehead.

Virgil jaw dropped and his foot finally slipped off the pedal. The dampers clunked back into place, allowing an ominous silence to reign for a few moments.

The colour coded rolls of multi-purpose tape included within each baldric was one of Brains’ affectionate little thematic touches but also acted as a crude fingerprint… blue tape could only ever have been used by one person.

The Commander’s eyebrows twitched almost audibly as he tried to puzzle out the strange sensation but his eyes remained screwed shut.

When Brains spoke it was barely more than a whisper and the brothers in the room found themselves leaning in. The brother in space appeared to have located a bucket of popcorn.

“D-do you h-happen, to know how l-long I have spent p-perfecting One’s fuel reserve s-system, S-Scott?”

Scott swallowed, hard, and opened his eyes again.

“Quite a long time?”

“Yes.”

“Ahh, did I ever thank you? I should have, I’m very sorry - thank you for that and for all your work, Brains. It really is appreciated.”

“Is it?”

“Of course!”

“Hmmm.”

Scott opened his mouth again but, accepting that his attempt to divert the conversation had failed, clearly thought better of digging any deeper until the nature of the situation became more clearly defined.

Brains’ hand lifted for a second time, another square of blue tape delicately held between thumb and forefinger. This was placed with some care on the very tip of Scott’s nose.

Alan snorted. Gordon punched him in the arm and was elbowed back. Virgil glared them into silence then nearly lost control himself at the sight of his elder brother going cross eyed in an attempt to establish what on earth he was being decorated with.

Brains spun on his heel to face the rest and they all leaned back hurriedly, feigning casual interest. Nobody wanted to appear to be aware of, to be accidentally associated with whatever crime it was Scott had committed.

“Th-thunderbird One uses t-two fuels but h-has th-th-three fuel tanks. As you all know, th-the balance of fuel t-to achieve m-maximum speed is p-precisely c-calculated and th-the system that g-governs it is h-highly sophisticated.”

Everyone nodded except Scott who was trying and failing to pretend he was unbothered by the additions to his face. His nose twitched compulsively.

“D-due to certain t-tendencies of her p-rimary p-p-pilot, One h-has a reserve t-tank. Th-that blend of fuel w-will not achieve the h-highest speeds b-but will ensure she is able t-to return h-home if a SENSIBLE…” the word was ground out as if it was painful “…speed is m-maintained.”

Brains paused. Every eye in the room shifted to Scott. Max bleeped, judgementally. Brains continued, his voice deadly calm and deeply terrifying for it.

“T-to ensure One’s p-pilot d-does not m-miss the fuel status w-warnings amongst th-the p-p-plethora of information on the h-holographic display I installed th-three LED bulbs t-to m-make it QU-QUITE CLEAR w-when l-levels w-were running low and w-when speed n-needed t-to be m-m-m-moderated in order t-to avoid d-damage t-to her supply p-p-p-p-pipeline a-a-a-and e-en-en-engines!”

Brains’ veneer of calm was cracking and Scott, who had clearly solved the mystery, appeared to be chewing through the inside of his face. Brains spun back to face the object of his wrath. MAX’s mechanical eyes narrowed.

“W-warning l-lights are only effective w-when th-they are v-visible!”

Scott gulped and fell back on the only defence he had left - he gave his old friend a dimpled half-grin and a doomed attempt at mitigation:

“They were a little… distracting?”

“D-distracting.”

The full stop was potent and echoed around them. Brains appeared on the edge of an eruption the like of which Tracy Island had never seen, even when the volcano was active. But he mastered himself and produced a final square of tape which he held in front of Scott’s face for a moment before slapping it down on to the top of his head, rubbing it slightly to ensnare as much perfectly styled hair as possible before storming from the room.

MAX remained just long enough to shake a medium-weight hydro-spanner with extreme prejudice before flouncing impressively and trundling after his master.

Alan and Gordon clung to each other, faces contorted with silent mirth. Virgil caught John’s eye then cleared his throat and appeared about to speak before being forestalled by his Commander’s raised palm.

Lacking a little of his usual gravitas due to the tape fluttering gently in the huffed breath from his nose, Scott still poured every ounce of authority he had left into an order of three short syllables:

“Not. A. Word.”

[call-me-casual]

So I’ve been thinking about the TAG “behind the scenes” skits, they cross my mind almost daily.

It’s just so brilliant the way they did it. The idea of having the characters wander around at a side proportional to the sets is way cuter than it has any right to be and the 100% done film crew is just hilarious.

It makes me want to build a whole au around the concept, just the Tracy boys being tiny and causing chaos. Like, imagine you spent years studying film or something and your new job consists of trying to prevent Virgil from burning himself on the coffee machine, or stopping Scott from trying to steal the director’s car keys to go on a joyride (probably @idontknowreallywhy ‘s dream job lol)

Bonus points if they can’t talk at first and instead sound like baby alligators!

I’ve also been letting a TOS version marinade in my brain for a while, but that one is kiiiind of leaning into horror territory rn-

[coco9728]

Happy Birthday Brains!

🥳🎉🥳🎉🥳🎉🥳🎉

Happy birthday to our favorite engineer!

International Rescue wouldn't be here without you!

Literally!

Hehe!😁

[skymaiden32]

Secret Keepers

Can be read on AO3 here

Fandom: Thunderbirds

Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou @amistrio @uniwolfcorn @idontknowreallywhy (Please ask if you would like to get alerts when I update or post new stories.)

Continuity: TOS

Synopsis: Jeff’s family are keeping something from him.

Happy Father's Day to all who celebrate! ^^

------

Jeff yawned as he sat up in bed, sparing a quick glance at the barely illuminated clock on the wall. He grimaced. It was seven in the morning, and he hadn’t gotten to bed until three. When would he learn? He huffed; no use laying in bed grumbling, and disappeared into his bathroom to have a shower. Jeff breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the warm water running down his back. Already, he felt a lot more awake, and he was ready to start his day. 

He emerged from his room, ducking out of the way just in time as Gordon barrelled past him, carrying something in his arms that Jeff couldn’t identify. “Sorry, Dad!” His second youngest yelled as he disappeared round the corner. Jeff shook his head. That boy of his was going to get someone killed one of these days, and it was probably gonna be a household member. Luckily for his son, Jeff still felt too tired to deal with it and resolved to just have breakfast instead.

“Oh, Jeff! You’re awake!”

Jeff nodded in acknowledgement at the voice. “Good morning, Mother.”

Ruth Tracy frowned. “We all thought you’d be staying in bed for a bit longer, dear.”

“No point.” Jeff shrugged. “I wouldn’t get back to sleep anyway…”

His mother hummed. “Perhaps you would’ve if you tried.”

He frowned. “Pardon my asking, but why do you want me to get more sleep?” Maybe it was risky to ask the question, but it was one he had to ask. “You’ve always been insistent on all of us waking up early.”

Ruth glared at him immediately, and Jeff realised the risk he’d taken was not worth it. “I heard you get to bed at three this morning, young man. You need sleep.” She took a step towards him, clearly with the aim of herding him back towards his room.

Jeff frowned, trying his best to argue as she grabbed a hold of his arm. “I don’t have time to go to bed, Mother.” She ignored him, now on a mission to get at least one of her family to sleep in. Jeff almost spluttered as he tried, and failed, to resist. “I-I’ve got work to do!”

“Work you can easily do later, son.” Ruth stated matter-of-factly. She opened the door to Jeff’s room, and guided him over to the bed in the middle. “At least try to get some more sleep, Jefferson. Please. You need it.”

Jeff sighed, relenting when he saw that pleading look in his mother’s eyes. “Okay, Mother. I promise I’ll try…”

She nodded with a small smile, closing the door behind her, leaving Jeff to his thoughts. She’d never done that before. And just why was Gordon rushing past his door earlier? What was his son carrying? He huffed, closing his eyes and trying to sleep some more, just as he’d promised his mother. He was tired now, but the mystery was doing it’s best to keep him awake.

It took a few minutes of tossing and turning before Jeff threw the sheets off again, silently grumbling as he opened the door a crack, just in case someone was on the other side, watching and waiting. Looking around, he caught sight of Scott in the hallway, with his back to the door. He was holding his wrist up to his mouth, looking and talking down at an image on his watch. John. Jeff hummed inwardly, listening into what little he could hear of his sons’ conversation. 

“You sure that’ll work, John?” His eldest’s voice was in a hushed whisper. “You know what he’s like…”

“Positive.” John’s voice came back staticky, and Jeff frowned. The signal should be clear as day. He’d have to schedule maintenance for Thunderbird 5. Inwardly, he wondered what the problem might be. Were the antennae crooked? Was it a problem with the solar panels or the on-board nuclear reactor? Was it Tracy Island’s antennae that was the issue? He supposed the answers to that problem could only really be answered by Brains. He came back to the conversation in front of him, only to realise he’d missed a big chunk of it while musing on the comms issue. “...it should be easy enough.”

“Good.” The grin in Scott’s voice was audible. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“FAB!” The tiny John gave a thumbs up, and the device shut off, reverting back to a simple watch face. Scott hummed, looking around, before turning towards the lounge.

Jeff watched as he went. Just what was going on here? He didn’t think he’d ever seen his eldest and middle sons acting so secretively before. Well, he made up his mind. He was going to find out. As quietly as he could, he opened up his bedroom door, and sneaked his way down the hall into the lounge. And what he found was…

…His sons setting up some decorations. His mother making some finishing touches to a cake. Brains and Tin-Tin huddled in the corner, fiddling about with some new-fangled gadget of theirs. None of them seemed to have noticed him yet. The banner in the centre of the room caught his eye. 

‘Happy Father’s Day!’ 

Between the increase in rescues and a bunch of yellow tape at Tracy Industries, there’d been so much going on lately. He’d completely forgotten. But clearly, they hadn’t. He could’ve cried. 

“So is John really sure that will work?” Jeff was ripped from his thoughts by Virgil’s voice. The artist was heavily scrutinising a particular decor that was clearly the spacebound astronaut’s suggestion. 

Alan stood next to him, squinting his eyes. “You know what Virg? It will work. It’s space themed!” The youngest Tracy grinned, turning to his brother. “And we all know space is Dad’s favourite place…” He rhymed, a sing-song tone in his voice.

Virgil smiled back. “Yeah, we do know.” They stepped back from the table, revealing a spread of dishes and treats, each one creatively moulded to look like stars, nebulae and the occasional comet. 

“Alright everyone! Looks like we’re all set!” Scott’s voice broke through the organised chaos.

Gordon smirked, almost devilish. “Want me to go wake them up?”

“First of all, Gordon Tracy,” Grandma interrupted, “we all know you, so absolutely not.” Gordon shrugged, unbothered by the accusation. “Secondly,” she turned her head in the direction of the hall. Jeff froze like a deer in headlights. “I think one of them may already know what’s going on…” Everyone mirrored her movements, simply looking at Jeff in disbelief.

All Jeff could do was play it cool. “I’m guessing you wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Oh, come on…” Alan lamented. “What gave us away…?”

Jeff looked between them, eyes landing on Gordon and Scott in particular. “You weren’t exactly discreet.” He grinned. “Although, it is a nice surprise. I assume we’re waiting on Kyrano?”

“But of course, Mr Tracy. It’s his day as well!” Tin-Tin beamed. “Brains and I have prepared a little gift for him.”

“W-We hope it’ll help with those f-fits of his, M-Mr Tracy.” Brains explained. “Or at the v-very least let us know w-what’s going on. I-It’ll a-analyse his brain waves a-and interpret them i-into definitive data.”

If at all possible, Jeff’s smile widened. “That’s great! He’ll want to know just as much as the rest of us. Should I go get him and act surprised with him?”

Virgil gave a thumbs up. “Sounds like a plan. See you in a minute!”

“Don’t lay it on too thick!” Gordon advised as his father left, now on a mission.

It didn’t take long for Jeff to reach Kyrano’s door, giving it a knock. He was kind of shocked at how quickly his friend answered. “Yes, Mr Tracy? Can I help you with anything?”

“Meeting in the lounge. It’s urgent.” He thought it up on the spot. Not ideal, but it would do.

Kyrano looked a little perplexed, and a bit worried, at the adamant tone in Jeff’s voice. “...Very well.” He exited the room, closing the door to follow his employer. “May I ask what this meeting is about?”

“I don’t really know, I’m afraid. My mother’s called it.” Jeff continued to lead the way, hiding his smile. “I’ve never seen her so sure about something.”

No sooner had they stepped foot in the lounge, a cacophony of voices yelled out, “Surprise! Happy Father’s Day!” Kyrano jumped, startled at first. But once Tin-Tin started clinging to him, giving him the biggest hug, he was grinning from ear to ear.

“My daughter. My friends. What a pleasant surprise.” He shared a look with Jeff. “This is for both of us?” A series of nodding heads answered his question. “Thank you. For thinking of me also…”

“Kyrano, how could we not?” Alan stood next to Tin-Tin, squeezing her hand. She squeezed back, eyes gentle as she looked at him. 

Gordon got in the middle of the group, a very serious look on his face. “So, we’re gonna get this party started, right?”

“Yes, of course we are.” Jeff gave his son a look. “Be patient. It’ll be worth it.” He looked around the room, noticing each set piece and decoration that reflected either him or his dear friend. “You all have done an amazing job.”

If you were to ask either Jeff or Kyrano, way into the future, what days stood out to them in their long lives, chances were they would say one particular Father’s Day on Tracy Island. It was definitely worth the suspense. And the secrets…

[squidsinashirt]

You don’t need them, Gordon. You don’t need them, you don’t need them, you don’t need them…

[dragonoffantasyandreality]

Who says I'm going to leave Brains and Parker safe this summer ;)

@uniwolfcorn @teapotteringabout @skymaiden32 @knyee @janetm74 @the-original-sineater @thundergeek59 @riallasheng @katblu42 @mariashades @room-on-broom @yarol2075 @llamawrites @etrnlvoid @soniabigcheese

[edorazzi]

More Thunderbirds Are Go comics! 🚀✨

It's been a while but I've had the first two lying around for months waiting to post a full set! In which neurodivergent John sets off people's AI detectors, gets bullied for his fashion choices, and Penelope battles with her conflicting standards when it comes to Gordon...

[thatkidwholikesthunderbirds]

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

Here they are, just a couple of nerds.✨

[soniabigcheese]

Tiny Tracy's having fun whilst it is quiet

Scott?

Yeah?

Why are you blurry?

I'm the Flash!

Um, aren't you supposed to wear red?

Why? I like blue ... and I go FAST!

John ... and THIS is what they used to use for communication

Virgil ... oh look, there's a green one! Like Thunderbird Two!

John ... *sigh*

The Hood ... your days are NUMBERED ... see? The sand has all dropped to the bottom

Brains - dutifully ignoring the Hood ... MAX? Sick em

MAX beeps excitedly

Speaking of MAX, he is proving to be just as useful for heavy lifting as Virgil

Virgil ... a bit higher MAX

Gordon ... uh, Virge? This isn't coffee ya know

Virgil ... Don't care, I'm stressed out

Game night and Alan is throwing a strop because there are no red buttons.

Virgil... there's a lot of green

John ... orange here, and I got this

Gordon ... yay! Yellow!

Scott ... yup, blue thingies whatever these are

@tinytracys @janetm74 @katblu42 @dragonoffantasyandreality @cg29 @womble1 and anybody else interested

[colourobserver]

We have a chicken coup and one of the hens has a bunch of little chicks.

Today I watched what happens when a snake tries to attack the mother hen’s chicks.

When I tell you predator and prey swapped positions and this Chicken beat the crap out of the venomous snake, I mean, I wish it was on camera. And while this was a highly stressful situation, the whole time I couldn’t stop thinking about how this Mother hen is Scott Tracy in another universe. 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Look at what you authors have done to my brain!

[tinytracys]

IT’S CHRIIISTMAAAAS!

(Happy Christmas Eastern Aussie Thunderfam!)