#fandom: thunderbirds

[tea-cub]

Just to be a little Thunderbitch

Back in the TB fandom - all series and all films - after years away and I have pointless things to say:

I hate that they switched Gordon and John's hair-colours in the new series. I loved Gordon as a ginger, not as a blonde. He had the most distinctive look; it was why he was my crush.

Sophia Myles was the best Lady Penelope. I will die on this hill. Love Rosamund Pike but she makes Penny sound like an airhead with a cold.

1960s Alan is my least favourite version of the character; I never warmed to him and it pissed me off that both of the original films both ended up being about him. Ironically, I love the 2004 Alan and I love what they've done with the new version, which feels like a mixture of his predecessors.

Been watching Titanic and I miss Bill Paxton. I loved his version of Jeff.

Fermat was adorable and I miss him.

Kayo is awesome. It feels like they put a fair bit of the 2004 version into the character.

Why does the new series have the characters randomly watching footage from the old series? I know it's meant to be a tribute but watching Kayo 'scanning for information' and just watching footage of her 1960s counterpart going diving with Colonel Casey is weird.

I'm glad the link between the Hood and IR is actually addressed first-hand. The Hood was never named during the series and it was kind of exasperating, as a kid, to have to refer to him as 'bald guy with glowing eyes' if you didn't have merch information to hand. Scott, Gordon and Brains were the ones who had the closest contact with the character in the original series, only Scott saw his face in full (TB4 was attacked and the Hood had his face hidden both times Brains saw him) and it was frustrating that they didn't fully KNOW. I'm glad now that they do.

Speaking of knowing, I'm glad that the boys don't have so much trouble with having to hide their identities; they're given a bit more freedom. As a kid, all the machines seem fun, but 20 years of fanfic have made me gradually realise: it's got to be hard living that kind of life, living separately from the rest of the world and in secret. Of course they all have each other, but family can be your best friend and your worst nightmare; older siblings feel responsible for and boss about the younger and the younger feel like they're not being heard. Plus, as proven by both Tim Casey and Eddie Houseman, it's difficult to maintain friendships with that level of secrecy.

So happy Rhys Darby had a recurring guest-role. Squee.

[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-

[thatkidwholikesthunderbirds]

Had a bad day at college, so here's a comfort Gorbo.🛟🦑

[l-egionaire]

You know what? I'm bored, and I've got some ideas, so here are my Ilvermony headcanons.

The separate houses are treated as little more than an aesthetic difference by the students. While there might be rivalries and prank wars between the houses, it never gets to the levels of near discrimination that it gets to at Hogwarts. The students all just consider themselves students of the same school and members of the houses intermingle and hang out with each other all the time. They're even allowed to be in each other's dorms for limited amounts of time each day. The teachers encourage it as they often say that each house represents a part of what every great wizard needs, and coming together helps bring them all together towards the ideal wizard.

It's not uncommon for there to be students from other countries who don't speak English perfectly. Thankfully, there are charms to help translate their speech for the teacher, and the only part of their work that needs to be spoken English are their incantations. Though some might still ask for help in getting the pronunciation correct.

The dining hall students eat in is vastly different from Hogwarts's Great Hall, being a large room with mahogany walls filled with multiple circular tables covered in red tablecloths with gold trim and set with silver untensils, fine blue China plates, and crystal glasses. In the center of the room is a vast roaring fireplace with a picture of the Sayre family overtop of it. During feasts, the Pukwudgies bring out platters and pitchers of food and drink that stay magically hot and cold until the students serve themselves from them. Students are allowed to sit at whatever table they please, and the staff eat at a massive table in the middle of all the others.

The dorms are just different buildings of the castle that have five floors of T-shaped hallways with long red and gold rugs bearing the houses symbol. Along the walls of each hallways are dorm rooms for each years students. Students are assigned two each to a dorm, with their roommates's names being included with the letters they receive at the start of each new year. Roommates can't be changed unless two students agree to trade with each other. The dorms all have two large half poster beds with red and gold sheets and blankets, the blankets also carrying their houses symbol and pillows with blue pillow cases. There's also two desks, half dressers, wardrobes, and a set of three shelves above the dressers on both sides (the rooms are enhanced with expansion charms to give them extra space). The halls for younger students all have a dorm manager in them, an older student who was chosen to sleep on their floor to act as a chaperone and disciplinary figure to the students.

The students get to the school by way of multiple magical single decker busses that all arrive at Rockfeller Center in New York. They drive for around an hour before making a stop at a magically hidden pit stop where the students can get snacks, drinks and use the bathroom before the rest of the journey.

Thanksgivings at Ilvermony are always huge. The decorations include fall leaves that flutter and blow themselves through the halls, realistic turkey figures that jump around and gobble, and in the center of each dining room table is a red and gold hat that plays music. Each table gets its own turkey to carve (any leftovers are served over the next few days as sandwiches) along with boats of gravy and cranberry sauce, bowls of corn, mashed potatoes and carrots. And for dessert, a veritable buffet of pies, including Ilvermony's famous cranberry pie, the recipe said to have been invented by Isolt Sayre herself.

Any students without a wand before coming to school is allowed to select one from the hall of wands just past the sorting room. The hall holds hundreds of wands stacked inside their case along the walls. The room holds both wands so new they were just ordered yesterday and so old they were created at the very start of the school. After each sorting ceremony, the head of the school helps each first year's find a wand that "chooses" them, a process that can take up to an hour at most. It's also heavily guarded at all times by both a pair of heavily armed, muscular Pukwudgies and a rotating member of the staff as it's a prime target for thievery either by students or dark wizards.

Ilvermorny boasts a massive roaster of international magical studies electives. In each one, students can study the government, magical creatures, and magical history of the country of their choosing. Some even go on summer trips to those countries to further their studies.

Rather than O.W.L.s, Ilvermorny students takes the W.I.T. or Wizarding Intuition Tests, something similar to an SAT tests. The tests are taken twice, once during sixth year and once during seventh year for each class the students take, and the combined scores of each year are added together, and that average becomes their score. The better the score in certain subjects, the more job opportunities the students have.

To receive mail, students go to the mail room in a tall tower at the southern side of the castle where every owl goes to bring packages and letters for their deliveriees to receive. The mail room is student run and students are selected at random to do the job.

[samcat71470558]

Carstober day 11: chase. I'm skipping 12 btw

can you tell I'm getting a second hyperfixation? I can't...

[@carstober]

[blinktwicebaby]

‘I close my eyes- only for a moment and the moments gone’

Is it the best thing I’ve drawn? Nah. Is it the worst? Not by a long shot!

[katblu42]

Manhattan at 2am

Very short fic snippet - what I would have written for last week's Flash Fiction Friday prompt of Lights and Sirens if I'd had myself together!

I do not know why he's in NYC, and in this state, but have some exhausted Scott.

The storm had passed.  Flashes of light still lit up the clouds away to the south east over the water, but the rain had stopped.  Scott scrunched his toes into the plush carpet a few times as he gazed out over the New York City skyline.  The floor to ceiling window offered him an uninterrupted view of downtown Manhattan, alive with light and movement even at 2am.

Raindrops on the glass caught and refracted the light, and bent some of the straight edges of buildings in interesting ways if he concentrated on them.  But he wasn’t really concentrating on anything.  Not even the gaggle of vehicles with blue and red lights flashing congregating outside a building several blocks away to the south.

The brief thought crossed his mind that sirens would be wailing through the streets, but there was no chance of hearing them from way up here.  Not with the soundproofing they had for the penthouse apartment.  He did wonder if whatever emergency was occurring would involve evacuating a bunch of bleary-eyed people in pyjamas out onto the street until the situation could be resolved.  He couldn’t see any smoke or flames, so he hoped the fire trucks were merely responding to alarms sent haywire by storm induced power fluctuations.

With a small sigh, he leaned his forehead against the cool glass. 

Traffic moved silently through the streets below marking time in streaks of white headlights and red taillights.

Then a warm hand rested on his shoulder.  A warm hand attached to a well-muscled arm that gently draped across his upper back.  And the brother attached to that arm now stood close enough beside him that a comforting warmth began to permeate through Scott’s thin cotton sleep attire.

A familiar voice rumbled softly.*

On some level Scott knew he should respond, but he couldn’t seem to summon the energy.  He may have sagged a little against his ever-steady brother.

The voice rumbled again and was joined by a second, more melodious voice and a faint blue glow reflecting off the inside of the window glass.**

He didn’t remember moving.

There was warmth and softness.  Comfort and familiarity.

He was in bed, covers tucked neatly over him, snuggled up against a heat source that rose and fell with slow, even breaths.  Virgil.

Music was playing quietly.  A recording of one of Virgil’s piano pieces.  John’s doing.

There would be more meetings tomorrow.  Board members, clients, investors, employees . . . responsibilities.

But for now he was content to let the siren song of jazz piano lure him down into the depths of slumber.

* “Scott? You okay?”

** “John, you were right.  I’ve got him now.”      “FAB.  Let me know if you need anything.”

[willow-salix]

So erm... I was just on Ao3 looking for your fic but I couldn't find it...

Because you haven't written it yet.

Better get on that.

And yes, I'm calling myself out here too.

[whatgaviiformes]

FishTank Week 2024! - May 12-18

Well, you all asked for a rinse, repeat, and most of you wanted prompts ASAP, so welcome again to FishTank Week, 2024 edition! We had such a fun time last year bringing out all our yellow and green and fiiiiish and music. I hope 2024 brings new ideas, new inspiration, and always all the FishTank things.

FishTank? Yes, Fishtank, the name we use in the thunderfam for the brother relationship of Virgil and Gordon. Brotp for some, but otherwise still so fun to explore anyway!

When is FishTank Week? This year it'll run from Sunday May 12th through Saturday May 18th. The significance of the week? Loosely calculated as the day between their birthdays, but honestly any excuse 💚💛

How do I celebrate FishTank Week? Like last year, we are releasing a series of prompts (see below). If they inspire you to write or create art, you can choose to post those on the exact day or anytime that week. Fic, Reblogs, Recs, and Art are welcome and appreciated all week long. Anything's welcome, so don't forget mood boards, music, head canons. Whatever you can think of!

We'll be active that week as well reblogging, and with some QOTDs and daily posts reminding of the prompt(s).

I'm not interested in FishTank: *hugs* totally fine. Our tags this year will be #fishtankweek and #fishtankweek2024 if you want to block them.

Questions: Reblog, comment, or you are also welcome to reach out to me directly.

Thanks to @emtb319 and @idontknowreallywhy for collaborating this year. And @gumnut-logic for letting me use a daily dose screen shot for the below.

Prompts - we've added some options within the prompts and some alternates for you to use as you like. Inspiration is the goal, and the only guideline is FishTank. The others can make an appearance too. We won't make you clean TB 4 for having a wayward Tracy, Kyrano, Creighton-Ward, or others around for the fun. But definitely Virgil and Gordon.

12: Wingman

13: At the... Orchestra | Art Museum | Aquarium

14: Brothers Relaxing

15: "We're a team, always" | "Did you doubt me?"

16: Comfort Food | Food on the go

17: Memories

18: Pranks

Alts: Love and Laughter | Along the Coastline

Good luck fish wrangling, and happy creating!

See you on the 12th,

Gavii 💚💛

[writerpyre]

Hey, it’s me!

Not been around much lately (again) but this cropped up in my inbox last week, and I thought I’d share for anyone else who might like to see it.

I haven’t watched the YouTube vid yet, but for those who are aren’t aware, this is the film that got me into Thunderbirds first when I was twelve and it aired on tv, and then again when I was nineteen and going through my mums tv-taped VHS.

Nearly thirteen years following that second immersement and I’m still hooked into the fandom that has enriched the majority of my adulthood so far. Thunderbirds is the thing that’s kept me going throughout my mums ill health and death, through Covid and beyond. It wasn’t the film that everyone wanted but it still holds so much nostalgia for me nevertheless.

[shirubie]

Romance Showcase Event: TAG: Love & Thunderbirds

Calling all romance fans of the TAG fandom! Love is in the air (and in space, and underwater...)!

This event is to showcase stories and art, old and new, that has romantic love as it's main theme. Want warm and fuzzy cuddles, awkward crushes or burning passion? You'll find it here!

To participate, post or reblog and use the tag #TAG:Love&Thunderbirds. Doesn't have to be your own stuff, you can link to works you like and want to share with the fandom. Just make sure to credit the original creator (no reposting please).

I'm not planning a specific start or end date for this event, so there's no deadline, you can post whenever you want.

A few ground rules:

-All ships are welcomed, even OC ships, as long as the story is centered on romance. Respect other people's ships even if they're not ones you like. Don't forget to tag your ships so that people can find/avoid them (everyone wins that way!)

-Please tag/warn for any adult or triggering content.

-Please credit the artists if you are not the creator of the work.

This is my first time starting an event, I hope to do a good job. If you have any suggestions you can send me a message.

Have fun everyone!

[scott-tracy-1]

Does anyone have anything they wanna ask me? Please say yes, I wanna do the answer thingy

[sethizah]

Okay, this is funny 🤣.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

[selene-tempest]

This is 100% you @i-t-guy-in-the-sky

[blinktwicebaby]

“Talk to me Scott” John said after a few moments of dead silence.

“The stupid helmet makes you seem far away!” He complained, ignoring his real problem.

“We can fix that when you get home.” Optimism. “I’m seeing a finger about to break, what happened?”

“Stupid fingers got stuck on my stupid collarbone. I’m going to die looking like a pretzel!” Pessimism. He hadn’t even meant to say the ‘d’ word, it had just slipped out.

Read the whole thing here ❤️

[katblu42]

Symphony

Been thinking about this one a bit over the last few days, so I thought I'd give it a bit of a re-run.

It's just a bit of fluffy, music-related Earth and Sky.

Scott tore his eyes away from the unread emails, stretched his arms above his head, let out a long breath and turned the chair away from the desk to face Virgil at the piano.

“I like this one.  What’s it called?”

“It doesn’t really have a name.”

“I’ve heard you play it before, though.  Did you write it?”

There was the slightest hint of hesitation in Virgil’s response, although the music never wavered.

“I guess you could say that.  I haven’t ever really thought about notating it.”

“Aren’t you concerned you might forget it?”

A wry smile crept across the musician’s features, but he said nothing. 

“You should write it down.  And come up with a name for it.”

Virgil tilted his head a little by way of considering the notion, then asked “Why do you like it?  What does it make you think of?”

Scott stood, stretching more muscles, letting the music carry his thoughts away from TI paperwork as his gaze drifted upwards.

“Well, I like the way the melody climbs and swirls.  It kind of reminds me of flying.  And there’s a feeling of constant motion, fast, easy – sort of free.”  He closed his eyes for a moment before returning his gaze to his brother.  “In some ways it kinda reminds me of Dad.”

Virgil’s response began with the quirk of an eyebrow and the hint of a smile.

“Funny you should say that . . .”

“Why?  Is it about Dad?”

Virgil finished the last phrase, letting the final chord hang in the air before taking a slow breath and looking up at his big brother.

“No.  It’s you.”

“Me?”  Sapphire eyes widened with surprise bordering on shock, and his forehead creased in puzzlement.  “You wrote a song about me?”

Virgil looked back at the piano. 

“Not exactly.  It’s more like . . .” His gaze drifted upward.  “It’s hard to explain.  It’s sort of how I hear your presence, or your essence or something . . . I don’t know.”  His voice trailed off into mumbles and a shrug.

Scott was left speechless, staring at his brother’s awkward uncertainty, as the significance of his own interpretation of the music and what it represented really hit home.  It took him a moment, and he had to work to bring moisture back into his mouth before he finally found his voice again.

“Do . . .  do you have something like this for all of us?”

Virgil felt the heat of a blush rising in his cheeks, and he didn’t look up from the piano.

“Uh, yeah.  I sort of do.”  His hands drifted back to the keys and a new piece of music began, one with a complimentary theme to Scott’s.  It was in the same key, had the same tempo, and still embodied that sense of soaring movement, but this one felt somehow bigger, more far-reaching – almost heroic.

Scott let out a gasp.  “Is that . . .?  This one is . . . It’s Dad, isn’t it?”

Virgil gave a single nod.

“It fits with yours.  Like the second theme in a sonata-allegro.”  Virgil glanced over at his brother, taking in the blank look at the musical term.  “That’s the usual form for the opening movement of a symphony.”  His eyes drifted closed as he played, and he sighed.  “I can hear them both in counterpoint, but I can’t play both at the same time and do them justice.  I’d need an orchestra for that.”

Dumbfounded at this revelation, Scott could only marvel at his brother’s musicality.  Here he was listening to these amazing musical creations that rendered larger than life, full-colour images in his mind, and Virgil was complaining that what he could do with the piano alone was not enough.  He didn’t think he could even imagine what this music must sound like inside Virgil’s head.

The music came to a stop and Virgil turned again to look up at Scott.

“The variations on these two themes would encompass something like what I hear for Grandma and Kayo, a little of Brains, some of Grandpa . . .” he turned away again, “then everything would come back to you and Dad.”

For a moment silence hung between them.  Virgil’s fingers flexed, as though the music within him was searching for a way out as they reached once again for the piano keys.  A new piece of music began.  This one slower, gentler, quieter in terms of movement if not exactly in terms of volume.  Scott felt this one was more thoughtful and emotional.  It brought to mind light and colour and had a sense of space, but it also somehow felt warm.

“Mom?” The smallest possible upward inflection made it a question, which was answered with another nod and the soft smile that made his little brother look so much like her.

The melody moved and changed, built, swelled, adding a complexity in the musical patterns reminiscent of a conversation, an exchanging of information.  The lightness now sparked imagery of stars. The feeling of space changed from that of a breeze in an open field to the vastness beyond Earth’s atmosphere. The gentleness was now reinforced with a sense of almost hidden strength – Scott thought that might’ve come from a stronger bass line, but he wasn’t sure.

“Is this . . . John?”

Virgil’s smile brightened.  “You’re good at this.”

“No, the music speaks for itself.  You’re the one painting these images of our family with notes and chords.”

The smile faltered as Virgil held the last chord, then he let his shoulders sink a little.  Scott silently cursed himself for bringing back that awkward self-consciousness in his brilliant brother, but before he could say anything Virgil spoke again.

“I guess they would be the second movement if this were a symphony.”  There was a brief pause, then he straightened back into his playing posture.  “No prizes for guessing who the third movement is.”

This piece of music was a jaunty, up-beat number that seemed designed to make people move – to dance, to tap their feet or clap along.  It definitely felt like a dance of some sort, and it contained hints of sea shanties, or maybe a sailor’s hornpipe.  It was the musical equivalent of laughter, sunshine, pure happiness, and it had a lilt that moved like the sea.

“Gordon!” Scott exclaimed with a laugh.

The comparatively brief third movement came to its conclusion, but Virgil barely paused before beginning what Scott guessed to be the fourth.

“And that leaves . . .” Virgil spoke softly as he began the final theme.

This one was in march tempo, strong, bright, driving forward with a sense of heroic purpose, and bringing back some of that swirling, soaring movement from earlier.  Scott could pick out hints of his own theme, and a faster version of parts of John’s, but the piece definitely had its own identity. There was a sense of urgency to it, as though the melody was trying to push the tempo into moving faster.

“Wow.  Alan would love this,” Scott found himself thinking aloud.

Virgil stopped playing after the end of the next phrase.

“There would be more.  If this was a symphony, I mean.  The fourth movement would bring in some more of the other main themes, tie everything together, finish with a bit of fanfare.”  Virgil was once again looking up at Scott, a mixture of curiosity and self-consciousness etched into his features.  “You really think Alan would like it?”

“Virgil,” Scott answered with a sigh and a shake of his head as he took the few strides over towards the piano stool, “it’s amazing.  All of it.  The whole symphony.”

Virgil gave a shrug and his brow creased a little.

“There’s a lot more to it in my mind.  Only so much can be translated through the piano.”

“Then orchestrate it.”

A sigh, a shake of the head and a hint of a smile was the only response.  Scott firmly planted a hand on his brother’s shoulder and piercing blue eyes locked gaze with warm brown ones.

“I mean it, Virgil.  Write your symphony.  Give it the life it deserves.”

Scott could see the struggle to find the right words as Virgil’s eyes struggled to hold with his.

“I . . . It’s not mine, Scott, it’s . . .” Virgil lost the battle to keep looking at the determined pride in his big brother’s blue eyes.  His gaze lowered and he focused on his hands.  “I mean . . . it’s all of you.  It’s not music I’ve created, it’s the music that you are.”  Then, almost too quiet to hear, “At least to me.”

“So, you don’t want to share it?”

“I don’t know.”

“You said this symphony isn’t yours.  I think you’re wrong.  It’s very much yours.  Something that you maybe want to hang onto, keeping it all for yourself.  And that’s okay.”  Scott shifted his grip, pulling his brother close.  “After all, this is family – The Tracy Family Symphony.  And if I’m the only one who ever gets to hear even this glimpse of what you carry in your heart, then I consider myself privileged.”