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silverstarfics · 6 months ago

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I was so determined to write something for this week’s @thunder-pride bingo square that I literally wrote this fic while having a minor allergic reaction on a plane - in other words there are definitely mistakes in this but please pretend not to notice them oops. Anyway, this is a longer fic than I'd usually post on here, so I recommend reading it on AO3 but I know some people prefer Tumblr, so here we are :))

AO3 link

Stray glitter itched under his left eye, his flag kept getting snagged on his baldric, and he could feel sweat prickling at the base of his spine despite the temperature regulator in his suit, yet Alan had never felt more comfortable in his own skin. His cheeks physically ached from so much smiling. He didn’t think he’d stopped grinning since he’d landed Tracy One on American soil two hours earlier – and no, that wasn’t just because he’d been reunited with his boyfriend. They hadn’t intended to spend practically three months apart – which had been a difficult adjustment after sharing an apartment for the past year – but the end of Alan’s semester meant he was officially back on the IR roster for the summer… just as a busy spell of rescues struck.

Technically, he was here on Official International Rescue Business: representing them at one of the world’s largest Pride parades. Usually, Gordon would have played the role, dressed up in yellow, pink and blue with an unholy amount of glittery body spray decorating not only his skin but his uniform. This year, Alan had taken up the reins. He secretly suspected his family had conspired to give him some downtime – because summer break was supposed to be restful, especially when you were an overachiever who’d decided to double major – and a chance to hang out with Brandon. He’d been instructed to have fun. Literally, Scott had texted him so.

Scotty: Have fun and enjoy your chance to be a dumb 20-year-old.

Scotty: Not too much fun though. You’re representing IR.

Alan had replied: so, on a scale from John to Gordon how much fun can I have?

Scotty: My level of fun only minus the daredevil risks.

Scotty: Just don’t get arrested, that’s all I ask.

“Coming to you from the Pride event of the year,” a loud voice declared dangerously close to Alan’s ear, jolting him out of his thoughts, “I’m here with a bi icon AKA my boyfriend-”

“Really?” he interrupted. “That’s how you’re introducing me?”

“Oh my god, fine.” Brandon hooked an arm around Alan’s neck and dragged him within view of the camera. “I’m here with International Rescue’s one and only Alan Tracy.”

“Better,” Alan accepted, trying to repress the urge to sneeze as Brandon’s flag drifted across his face. “Are you filming or livestreaming right now?”

“Filming,” Brandon assured him. “I’ll edit stuff out later, so you can relax.”

Alan flung his arms out to let his own flag billow in the light breeze. “Oh, I am so relaxed.”

Brandon, on the other hand, looked set to launch into orbit. He’d downed nearly a litre of soda since he’d met Alan at the airport and had chased it down with cotton candy and churros; he still had cinnamon dust on his face and it looked like extra freckles. The sugar rush had hit him around the same time as his adrenaline spike when music had begun to blare from speakers up-and-down the parade. He’d already had several fans come up to him for selfies and signatures which had only added to his energy levels. Even now, he was bouncing on the spot.

“Brand,” Alan tried to hiss, then raised his voice to be heard above the clamour of music and chatter and the swell of live instruments around them. “Brandon, dude, chill.”

“I am so frickin’ chill,” Brandon announced gleefully. He grabbed Alan’s hand and laced their fingers together, rising onto his toes – he hadn’t stopped complaining since Alan had hit the growth spurt that had placed him above Gordon and Virgil – to pull him into a kiss. “See? Chill.”

“Uh huh,” Alan deadpanned. “Super chill.” He frowned at the taste of sugar. “Did you find more candy? Where? And how? I swear you haven’t left my side.”

Brandon levelled the camera with a conspiratorial look. “All geniuses have their ways.”

“I’m cutting you off.” Alan reconsidered his words. “Ew, gross. You’re making me sound responsible.”

Brandon flicked his red baldric. “I feel like responsibility and IR are a joint package.”

“You’ve seen my astroboard stunts.”

“Good point.”

The parade began with an explosion of colour that reminded Alan of the infamous occasion when Gordon had accidentally upended Virgil’s palette mid-painting session. International Rescue had been assigned to the group of NGO floats, so he wasn’t expecting many people to point him out from the crowd. Maybe he’d gotten too used to his life on campus; after the initial buzz, no one cared that The Alan Tracy of International Rescue was a part of their ranks. But to his surprise, there were easily hundreds of people cheering and waving banners directed at him – or at IR or at his family: at least two signs asked for Kayo’s phone number – as the procession marched through the streets. Brandon captured everything on camera, including Alan’s shellshocked expression which prompted several internet comparisons with various memes.

“Hey, hey, Alan, look up.” Brandon cupped Alan’s face, tilting his head to glimpse the livestream of the parade on the giant screens above them. “Better smile, dude!”

“Oh my god.” Alan’s voice pitched into a humiliating squeak. He cleared his throat and fixed a grin on his face as the cameras stayed on him. “Okay, so this- this is a thing that’s happening. Cool. Cool, cool, cool.”

“Breathe,” Brandon teased. He raised their linked hands into the air, prompting another chorus of cheers from the crowd. “People love us! And they really love you, so quit freaking out.”

“I am not freaking out,” Alan protested, then proceeded to do exactly that as a weight crashed into his legs from his right. He staggered and caught his balance against Brandon’s shoulder.

“Woah,” Brandon mumbled, switching off the vlog. “Hey, lil dude. Where’d you come from?”

If the fact that Brandon had turned off the camera weren’t warning enough, his sudden change in pitch from overexcited delight to soft concern would have informed Alan that the new limpet clinging to him was definitely child shaped. He glanced down to glimpse a mop of tawny hair and an adoring, toothy smile. The kid had to be around eleven, certainly no older than twelve, with rainbow face-paint and a shirt emblazoned with Thunderbird Three.

“Hey,” Alan greeted, struck by the baffled urge to laugh. He knelt down to place himself at the kid’s level – honestly, his new height just kept causing problems. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Leo.” The kid – Leo, Alan mentally corrected himself – rocked on his heels as his grin grew impossibly wider. “Sorry for… you know. Running at you and jumping onto the float and stuff. But I really wanted to say hi, ‘cos you’re, like, super cool and you’re kind of my hero, so, um, yeah.”

Brandon leaned down over Alan’s shoulder to whisper teasingly, “Aw.”

Alan elbowed him. “Shut up.” He turned back to Leo. “That’s awesome, buddy! It’s great to meet you. Are you here with someone? I don’t want them to think you’ve gone missing.”

Leo gave an emphatic nod. “My mom.” He pointed in the vague direction of the crowd. “She’s out there somewhere.”

“Oh, boy,” Brandon whistled. “I know where this is going.”

Alan tousled Leo’s hair, then stood back up. “So, I’m thinking…”

“…We should search for the kid’s mom?” Brandon concluded with a fond eyeroll. “Yeah, okay.”

After a brief discussion with the other representatives on the float, Alan made his excuses, then clambered down with Leo perched on his shoulders and Brandon close behind them. The kid kept chattering, hands anchored in Alan’s hair and his heels drumming against Alan’s chest; it brought back treasured childhood memories of the times Alan had sat on Scott’s shoulders as his brother picked paths through crowds. He was aware of Brandon sneaking photos of their silhouettes to send to the family, all dressed up in sparkles and flags and IR blues.

Leo’s mom looked suitably ruffled. Her face was flushed with a mixture of humiliation and horror beneath the shimmery sheen of glitter spray. She fretted her hands in the hem of her t-shirt – pale blue with a supportive motherly caption that made both Alan and Brandon look away – as she began to utter so many apologies that they tripped over one another.

“I am so, so sorry.” She caught Leo’s eye with a warning stare. “He didn’t mean to disturb you. I only took my eyes off him for a second- Leo, have you apologised? Say sorry right this instant. I can’t apologise enough. Thank you so much for bringing him back. It’s just that you’re his hero, you see. He’s been obsessed with the Thunderbirds since he was only so high-” She gestured at her hip. “-and when you came out… Well, you’ve been a healthy role model for him. His hero, really, and- And I should stop rambling and let you get back to the parade. Leo, get down here.”

Alan crouched down to let Leo clamber from his shoulders. He wasn’t sure how to act in the face of such praise – the word hero was tossed around frequently by civilians but it was usually addressed towards elder brothers and on rescues, not a public setting – so settled for some terrible pun outta Gordon’s handbook and laughed nervously while Brandon rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it.” Alan offered Leo a fist bump which the kid readily returned. “He’s been no trouble.” He feigned a serious tone. “I have an important question though: which is the best Thunderbird?”

“One,” Brandon declared and instinctively jumped outta reach before Alan could kick his shins.

Leo wrinkled his nose. “Three, duh.”

“Correct answer.” Alan patted him on the head. “I just had to check.” He grinned at Leo’s wide-eyed, starstruck expression. The kid kept looking at him as if he were a dragon, although perhaps a unicorn would be a better comparison given the rainbows painted onto his baldric. “Maybe don’t run off without telling your mom next time though, okay?” He lowered his voice to a secretive whisper. “I think you scared her. You might want to say sorry.”

Leo’s face fell. “Sorry, Mom. I wasn’t thinking…”

“Clearly,” she replied dryly. “But I think we can let it slide just this once.” She straightened up, craning her neck slightly to meet Alan’s gaze – and nope, he still wasn’t used to that one, it was so weird, how did Scott and John live like this? “It’s his first Pride.”

“Oh, heck yeah,” Brandon cut in. He held up a hand. “High five, lil dude! That’s awesome!”

Leo met his high five with a resounding smack. Alan observed their interaction, fully aware that he probably had the heart-eyes that he’d been accused of on so many occasions by nosy siblings, but hey, whatever, sue him, it was a cute sight. He tugged absently at the edges of his flag as warm affection spread outwards from his chest. Cameras clicked around him as people filmed – hey, it’s the guy from International Rescue – but somehow it didn’t bother him anymore.

“Really,” he continued, forcing himself to turn back to Leo’s mom. “Leo’s a good kid. You should be proud of him. I got super overexcited at my first Pride too. It can be kind of overwhelming.”

She gave a light laugh. “It’s all he’s talked about for the last three months.” She lowered her gaze, voice softening as she hesitated, then confessed, “He was scared to come out to me. I don’t know how I ever gave him that impression – Lord knows I kick myself every day for making my baby think I wouldn’t accept him – but when you came out… He said that if you could be brave enough to tell the world, he could be brave enough to tell his mama. So, thank you, Alan. Truly.”

And-

Wow.

Okay. That was… a lot.

“You’re so emotional,” Brandon teased, prodding Alan’s bicep. “This is why Goose says you have golden retriever energy, dude.” He skimmed his thumb over Alan’s palm, a swift, inconspicuous show of support. “We should probably get back to the parade, but it was awesome to meet you.”

“Of course.” Leo’s mom snagged her son’s shirt. “Say goodbye, Leo.”

“Bye,” Leo chirped, then threw his arms around Alan’s middle. “Thanks for… everything.”

Alan let Brandon lead him through the crowd to a café. They found a quiet corner at the very back, tucked away in a shadowy alcove beside a potted plant and an old Pacman machine. Brandon briefly vanished, then returned with a glass of water and a chocolate chip cookie. He slid both across the table to Alan, then waited expectantly, all wide eyes and furrowed brow.

“Thanks,” Alan replied after a minute. He took a sip of the water, then drained it in one as he realised how dry his mouth had become. “I don’t know why that threw me so much. Like, it was a really nice thing, so why am I…?” He held up a shaky hand. “…you know?”

“’Cos it’s a big deal,” Brandon said quietly. He bumped his sneaker against Alan’s beneath the table. “You’re allowed to be rattled by it, Al. It’s a good thing, but it’s still a lot. Like, I can still remember the first time one of my viewers told me I’d inspired them. I’m pretty sure I threw up afterwards, so you’re doing better than me. Then again, I was like fifteen, so…”

Alan split the cookie. “Want some?”

“It’s like you don’t even know me,” Brandon sighed, grinning as he snatched up half. “Let’s chill here for a few minutes, then we’ll head back out, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Leo was right, you know?”

“What d’you mean?”

Brandon’s smile was the soft, secretive kind, usually reserved for places without the threat of cameras. Alan had gotten to see it almost daily since they’d moved in together when he’d started at MIT, but it still left him mildly breathless.

“You’re a good role model to a bunch of kids like him.”

Alan ducked his head. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Brandon corrected. “Now eat your cookie so we can get back out there.”

Much, much later, after they’d flown back to the island and washed off most of the glitter, Alan had chance to process everything. It made him happy but also nervous at the same time. Like, woah, he was someone’s role model? Kids considered him to be their hero? That was wild. He said as much, airing his thoughts aloud while Virgil clattered around the kitchen and Scott picked at the bowl of chopped pineapple that was intended for the evening’s pizzas.

“It’s just so weird,” Alan continued, drawing his legs up to sit cross-legged on the bar stool. He’d changed into sweatpants and a hoodie that he was pretty sure he’d stolen from John at some point after his sixteenth and had subsequently grown into. There was still glitter caked onto his cheek despite the fact that he’d attacked it with a makeup wipe. “Like, me? I still feel like a kid.”

“You’re Scott’s twenty-year-old child,” Gordon joked as he sidled through the patio doors and made a beeline for the pineapple. “He’s never gonna see you as an adult. Trust me, I’d know.”

“I’m not that bad,” Scott protested half-heartedly.

Gordon patted him on the back. “Smotherhen.”

“Irresponsible guppy.”

“And I wear that title with pride.” Gordon dropped onto the stool beside Alan. “Speaking of pride, how was it? Brandon didn’t give me any of the good gossip. I need details, Allie-gator.”

Alan frowned. “Did you torture my boyfriend? Is that why I haven’t seen him all evening?”

“Nah, that’s ‘cos Penny abducted him. They’re conspiring. We should both be scared.” Gordon tossed a cube of pineapple into his mouth and shot Virgil an innocent smile when his brother heaved a grand sigh and stared pointedly at the pizza bases. “Anyway. Pride. Details. Go.”

“A little kid said Alan was his role model, so Al’s spiralling,” Kayo summarised from her perch on the opposite counter, nursing something strongly alcoholic. “Now you’re all caught up.”

“Aw.” Gordon propped his chin in his hands. “That’s kind of adorable.”

“That’s what I said,” Virgil interjected. He prodded at the bowl of cake batter in his hands, then reached for a baking tray. “Do I leave this as vanilla or add cocoa powder?”

“Add chocolate.” Alan dropped his head onto the counter with a groan. “It’s weird though. I feel… like a fraud, I guess. I don’t have my life together. I survive on pizza pockets and Red Bull.”

Scott glanced up. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Only during finals. I’m mostly a functional adult the rest of the time.”

John’s hologram blinked into life above the projector. “Before you spiral any further, you should know that the internet loves you. Footage of the parade has ended up online. You’ve not just inspired one kid, but a lot of people.”

Alan tossed his hands up. “How is that supposed to make me feel any better? That’s so much more pressure.” He slumped onto the counter. “I just… You guys were my role models, right? And you did a pretty good job-”

“Thanks,” Gordon said, just as Kayo added, “Everyone apart from Gordon did a good job.”

“-so, I’m really happy to be inspiring people but also I don’t want to mess up.”

A contemplative silence settled over the kitchen.

“You’re not going to mess up,” Scott said after a moment. He slid the pineapple out of Gordon’s reach, then moved to stand beside Alan’s seat. “Hey, look at me for a second?” He placed his hands on Alan’s shoulders and offered him a reassuring smile. “All you need to do is keep being yourself. Try your best, stand up for your beliefs, and you’ll do just fine, Allie. Besides…” He tousled Alan’s hair. “You’ve been our hero for just as long as we’ve been yours.”

“Gordon’s not included in that,” Kayo called. Gordon made a crude gesture in her direction. She flung an arm at him. “See? He’s just not role model material.”

Scott ignored them. “You’re doing great, Al. I’m proud of you.”

Alan swallowed the lump of emotion in his throat, then asked, “Can I make a Pride joke?”

Scott sank onto a bar stool beside him and dropped his head onto the counter. “Wake me up when the pizza or the cake is ready, I can’t cope with the terrible puns that are about to happen.”

“Oh, but Scotty,” Alan began.

Gordon let out a wild laugh. “This is gonna be so much fun.”

#thunderpride #thunderpride 2024 #thunderbirds are go

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avengedbiologist · 5 months ago

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@thunder-pride day 26!

Me??? Drawing John ??? This is crazy. I just think his hair could be cooler honestly (like the inspo was Billy Idol)

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds 2015 #my art #thunderfam #thunderbirds 1965 #thunderpride #thunderpride 2024

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spaceshipsoutthepool · 5 months ago

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Bit late but rocket lad for his day (and trans day) of thunderpride 🚀

Again he isn't a character I've a fixed hc for romance wise. but I do enjoy a "not only wanted to be thunderbird but also a brother too" stories. 🏳️‍⚧️

(Image id. A watercolour portrait sketch of Alan from thunderbirds are go. He's a young man in a green and white t-shirt with spikey blonde hair. There is a prominet transgender pride flag behind him. Around that in the squiggles are various pride flag colours including bi ace and a traditional rainbow. End id)

#thunderfam #thunderbirds are go #alan tracy #trans day #alan day #traditional illustration #watercolours #image desc in alt text #thunderpride #image described

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sailing-on-a-puddle · 6 months ago

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The Science of Baking

This is for @thunder-pride Agender Day and also Week 1 Bingo prompts Role Models, Baking and Self Love, although they don't technically say it. Thanks to @onereyofstarlight for the headcanon of Brains being quietly agender which you can find here, and for reading this through 😊 It's all rather fluffy and also features Gordon, MAX and an OC.

Gordon walked into the kitchen to find an interesting array of equipment out on the kitchen table. A mixing bowl with the electric whisk, three baking trays but also a test tube rack with various colours of liquid, scientific scales and a thermometer. He would usually be the suspect for this type of thing so he wondered who else was cooking.

A small clatter and MAX emerged from the walk in fridge with various cartons and bottles, closely followed by Brains. That wasn’t the answer he was expecting.

“Hey Brains, what you cooking?” Gordon had never seen Brains cook before, but it couldn’t be worse the Grandma’s and he quite fancied something after his swim.

“Chocolate Brownies Gordon, but we must follow the recipe exactly. Max and I are preparing the ingredients.”

“Brains, we used to make those when we were little. You just add water to the brownie mixture, mix it, put it in the oven and then fight your brothers over who got to eat the leftovers in the bowl. You don’t need a recipe. I’ll bring you a mixture packet on the next supplies run.”

Brains looked at him with the sort of horrified look usually reserved for people like Lemaire. “No Gordon, we must follow Chris’s recipe.”

Brains switched on a hologram above the table and a person who Gordon assumed was Chris appeared in hologram form. They were as blonde as he was and probably a similar age but with green eyes. They were wearing a t-shirt with a large agender flag on it.

“Greetings, All!” Chris announced in an accent Gordon couldn’t quite place but he knew was British.

“Hi Chris!” Gordon replied, but Chris carried on talking. Gordon realised Chris was a recording.

Brains paused the recording. “Gordon, this is Chris MacDonald. They are the winner of the fifty-third series of the Great British Bake Off and they have turned cooking into a science!” Brains looked so enthusiastic, and MAX beeped in agreement.

Brains turned the hologram recording back on and Chris was very clearly and charismatically explaining what ingredients were needed to the milligram or millilitre, and Brains was hanging off their every word whilst Max helped.

Gordon watched him for a couple of minutes. It was clear that Brains was in his element applying scientific methods to this endeavour. The swim could wait. Besides, this person had won a baking competition and Gordon was very much looking forward to having first dibs on the brownies. Many years in a house with four brothers had taught him you didn’t give up that opportunity.

Realising he was thirsty and that this recipe clearly wasn’t going to take the ten minutes he was used to as a child, Gordon got up to get a drink. “You want one Brains?” he asked. No answer. Gordon tried two more times before waving his hand in front of the hologram. Brains stared at him. “You want a drink?”

Brains paused the hologram again. “Oh sorry Gordon. I had …”

“Forgotten I was there?”

“Erm, yes, sorry.” Brains looked embarrassed. “It’s just that … Chris is a hero of mine. They are so unashamedly who they are, and I don’t always feel comfortable with that.”

Gordon smiled. “Brains, who you are doesn’t always have to be shouted from the rooftops. I mean, in my case it does because that’s who I am, but you are not me or Chris or anybody else who isn’t you. If that means you're more comfortable being out as agender only to those close to you, that's OK too. As long as you’re happy being you.”

Brains looked up from his feet. “Thanks Gordon.”

“No problem. I meant it. But also part of being me is I want to try those brownies first and I get to share the bowl mixture after my swim. Deal?”

“Oh they won’t be ready for a while. After MAX and I have cooked the brownies Chris has another recipe to 3D print some Pride flags onto them in icing.”

Gordon stared at Brains for a few seconds before bursting out laughing.

“What?”

Gordon opened the kitchen doors to head out to the pool for his swim. “That’s you being you Brains. You’re more comfortable with it than you think.”

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderpride #gordon tracy #Brains (thunderbirds)#sailingonapuddle fanfic

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emtb319 · 5 months ago

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For @tracybirds Happy Thunderpride!

‘Is it done John?’ Virgil didn’t regret making the call. It was this or a bigger headache with a lot more paperwork.

‘In about 30 seconds. I’m sure the entire island will hear it, just waiting for Alan to finish turnover. It’s the last thing I’ll do before I take off for home.’ John was double checking everything for his return trip home.

‘Ok, we’re ready down here. Who has the password?’

‘Gordon. As much as I love you Virgil, if he pushes you enough, you'll cave. On the other hand, Gordon will write it on a piece of paper, stick it to a fishing pole, and wave it in front of his face, just out of his reach.’ Virgil chuckled.

‘No offense taken John. I was just wondering who had it, just in case. I actually thought you’d given it to Penny or Tin.’

‘I considered them, but they’re both off island. Better to have it more local.’

‘Agreed, ready?’ John finished up the last few things and settled into the pilot’s seat.

‘Flipping now.’ Within seconds, Scott saw a message take over his screens. The groan could be heard all the way in England.

‘You’d better leave 5 now John, before he tries to convince someone to call you.’

‘FAB. I’ll see you all soon.’ Scott walked into the room, just as John cut the link.

‘Virgil,’ Scott started, ‘really?’

‘Yes Scott, really.’ Scott rolled his eyes and was about to speak when Virgil cut him off. ‘In all fairness big brother, you were warned. You need rest and a break. Your injury will never heal properly if you don’t.’ Scott opened his mouth to protest, and Virgil cut him off again. ‘Don’t even try it. We’re all paramedics, but I’m the family medic. You may be able to fool the others, but not me. You have 2 options right now, take this break, and I’ll keep my mouth shut about your ribs, or you can keep going on like an idiot, and I’ll turn this into medical downtime. What would you rather?’

‘You don’t play fair.’

‘No I don’t. What’s your choice?’

‘Ok, ok, you win. Regular downtime. You really don’t play fair.’

‘Noted. Now, John will be some soon enough. He’s going to do the supply run with me and Gordon. Don’t forget to add what you need to the list please.’

‘Already done.’

‘Ok, now scoot. It’ll be lunch time in a little bit, why don’t you take advantage of this nice weather and eat on the beach.’

–

‘How’d it go Virg?’

‘Better than I thought Gords. Honestly though, I was expecting more of an argument. Just let me know if he tries to break into the system or bother you for the password.’

‘Well, you did pull the John card. You never do that.’ A bunch of noise from the kitchen caught their attention. ‘What is he doing?’

‘I mentioned maybe enjoying lunch down on the beach today to relax.’ Virgil took a good look at the mess in the kitchen and the basket being packed. ‘Just how much food is he packing?’

‘Finally.’

‘Finally what Gordon?’

‘He’s finally taking the first step. It’s about time too.’ Virgil pinched his nose and groaned.

‘Gordon, not enough coffee yet this morning. Take a step back and try again please.’

‘Scott’s smitten and has been for a while now, but he’s never done anything about it. Didn’t you hear what he was saying?’

‘His mumbles? Yea, I heard him mumbling, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying.’

‘I heard enough. He was trying to remember if Brains liked lemonade or grape juice more.’

‘Ahh…so finally.’

‘Yup, finally.’

‘Ok, let’s let him be and get ready for our supply run. Once John lands, we’ll head out. I was thinking…pizza night tonight.’

‘Oooooo, and a movie? I’m sure Alan can beam in later. I'm pretty sure Kyrano sent him up with his favorite pizza.’ Gordon started bouncing. He always loved their movie and pizza nights. ‘Can I have pineapple?’

‘Gordon relax. Yes we can do movie night, and I’ll never understand how you and TinTin can eat pineapple on pizza.’

‘Don’t knock it Virg.’

‘I’ll knock it all I want. It’s just not right.’ Gordon started to pout.

‘You’ve hurt my feelings big brother,’ he said, laying it on thick.

‘I’m sure. 1 pizza…only 1, for you two to share. What movie are you thinking?’

‘Hmmm, how about Top Gun? Scott and Alan both really like that one.’

‘Sure. Now go shower. John will be landing soon.’

–

Scott watched his younger brothers take off for the supply run. It was rare that John wanted to join in on it, but Scott was pleased to see him branching out a little bit.

‘Gordon remember, only 1 pineapple pizza. That’ll be plenty for the two of you. The rest of us would appreciate our favorites too, you know.’

‘I know Scott. Virgil told me, John reminded me, and now you too. I promise to bring home lots of pizza for our movie night tonight. All different varieties…something for everyone.’ Scott smiled.

‘We’ll see you all later. I already called in the order for pick up in a few hours. You have the list, right? I think Kyrano and Brains added a few small pickups too.’

‘They did, and yes we have it,’ Virgil answered. ‘Enjoy your afternoon Scott.’

‘I will. Be careful.’

Scott had noticed that Brains was holed up in his lab. The last record was 5 days. His impromptu picnic was the perfect opportunity to get him out of his lab for a break. He finished setting up the beach before heading down to the lab.

When he arrived at the lab, he stood in the doorway and smiled. Any time something happened to them on one of their missions, he would go into full blown hermit mode while he worked out how to prevent something from happening again. Because he was so engrossed in his work, he didn’t hear Scott approach.

‘Hey fella.’ Nothing, no answer. Scott got his attention when he placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘Hey, you need to eat.’

‘H-huh?’ Brains’s brain hadn’t quite caught up with the conversation yet.

‘Break time. I’m taking one too. Why don’t you come join me for some lunch? Get some air, some food, and rest and reset for a moment.’

‘I-I’m sorry Scott, but I can’t right now. This is very important work.’

‘It’s always important work. Your work is some of the most important stuff here, and we all see, appreciate, and love your hard work and dedication. You work tirelessly to keep our birds in their best shape possible to help keep us safe on our missions.

‘S-safe,’ Brains huffed. M-more than once your birds failed to protect you guys.’

‘No,’ Scott started, turning Brains around to face him. ‘No, more than once we only got off with a few bumps and bruises instead of something far worse. Case in point, my ribs. Yes I’m sore and need rest, but nothing’s broken or life threatening. Without your technology, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.’ Scott paused a moment. ‘Do you remember what Granddad used to tell us?’ Brains shook his head.

‘If you do not schedule system maintenance, your system will schedule it for you. He wasn’t talking about work. He was referring to self care. And yes, I know, kettle meet teapot. I didn’t listen to his advice and now I’m on forced downtime so that I can take proper care of myself. I should have done this weeks ago. I would have been better off.’ Brains considered his words.

‘I-I guess it’s been a while since I’ve taken a break.’

‘Then it’s settled, come join me for some lunch.’

‘Join you?’

‘Yes. It’s just us for the next few hours, until my brothers get home with the supplies and pizza. I made a nice lunch, food enough for both of us. It’s set up down on the beach.’

‘Oh okay.’ They took the short walk from his lab to the picnic that Scott had set up for them. ‘S-scott, you did all of this?’

‘It’s nothing much, really. Just some sandwiches, fruit, and juice. You like lemonade, right?,’ he asked as he started to pour their drinks.

‘Y-ses, thank you. You really didn’t have to do all of this.’

‘We both needed a break,’ Scott started as he started to plate their food. ‘I don’t know about you, but I like your company, and since we both seemed to need a moment….I thought this was a good idea.’ Scott was stammering, unsure if he made the right decision.

‘I-I like spending time with you too. You’re one of the few people I know that doesn’t mind listening to me prattle on about my stuff.’ Scott smiled.

‘I don’t pretend to understand it all, but you always talk about your work with such passion.’ Scott didn’t expect to go down this road, but his mouth wouldn’t stop now that it started. ‘I like you for who you are, all of it. Please never stop being you. To be honest, I can’t imagine a life without you in it.’ Brains didn’t know what to say. No one had ever spoken to him like this before. ‘May I admit something to you?’ His mouth still didn’t seem to want to stop.

‘S-scott, you have my strictest confidence.’

‘When you were on the Anasta expedition, it was the first time, in a long time, that I was scared.’

‘Why?’

‘You were so excited. I watched you spend hours planning. Even during your first check in, you were so hopeful about what you expected to find the next day.’ Scott took a moment. ‘But the next morning, you missed your check in. I wanted to hope that you were just too busy with your excitement, but I knew something was wrong. I’ve seen you forget to eat or sleep, but you’ve never missed a check in.’

‘S-scott…’

‘I’m really sorry Brains. This has been on my mind a while. That day, Dad didn’t need to tell me twice to launch. Hell, if he had told me to wait, I would have gone anyway. I was both shocked and relieved to see you. Shocked to see you buried in the sand, relieved to see you alive. It wasn’t real until I had you out of that sand and leaning against my leg.’

‘I-I’m not sure what to say Scott.’

‘I’m sorry to offload like this on you. I really just wanted to have some lunch and relax. I hadn’t planned on this.’

‘Scott….stop….breathe. F-first, thank you for trusting me with this. Seeing you that day was a huge relief for me too. The logical part of me knew that you’d come once you realized something was wrong and that T-thunderbird 1 would be the first to arrive, but I was relieved to see you standing in front of me.’ Brains covered his hands with his own. ‘I-I can’t imagine a life without you in it either….I-I’m not sure what to do now.’ He said, turning timid.

‘How about this? We take it 1 step at a time. We both enjoy each other’s company, right?’

‘I-I’d like that,’

‘That settles it then. One step at a time and see what happens.’ They both smiled and continued their impromptu picnic. Scott didn’t expect them to have this conversation today. It really wasn’t his intention, but he’s glad they did.

‘S-scott, one thing first. I-I’m not sure what you expect of me. I’m relieved that we’ve both admitted our feelings to each other, but I-I don’t know what you expect.’ Scott took his hands in his own.

‘Nothing, I expect nothing.’ Brains looked at him, confused. ‘Really. I’m just happy to have you in my life. If this leads to something more, great…if not, then I still have you as a close friend, and that’s ok too. Do you expect anything of me?’

‘No Scott, same as you. 1 step at a time and see what happens.’

–

The next months go by. Brains had asked Scott for a favor, part because he needed to learn something, but it would also be the perfect excuse to spend some extra time together. After Anasta, he realized that his self defense skills were not good enough. Scott was more than happy to work with him. Through these lessons, they took time to learn more about each other.

The more Brains learned about Scott and observed him, the more he saw his natural born leader. He would question Scott about the reasons behind some of his decisions. It wasn’t to criticize, but to help him break down the why behind it, so that next time, he could anticipate. If he could break down some of the decisions better, then he could improve their technology. Never once did Scott tire of his questions or lose patience with him.

They would face a big test with the Sun Probe mission. Scott knew that Brains was keeping a close eye on the mission. He had friends at mission control, and every so often, they’d run their ideas or calculations by him. Scott came down to his lab to see if he wanted to watch over the broadcast with them. He wasn’t surprised when Brains said no, that he’d rather keep working on Braman. Braman was his newest project. There was talk about what to do next if the Sun Probe mission went well. Rumor had it that they were considering a deep space mission. If they were to accomplish that though, they’d probably have to use hibernation pods, which meant that they’d need a robot like Braman to help. If he could get Braman to think faster, better, more independently, then he could gift it to the program.

‘T-thank you Scott, but I want to keep working here.’

‘Ok, just don’t forget to eat something.’

‘I won’t. I have my coffee here too.’ Scott left him to his work and returned to the lounge to watch the broadcast. While watching it, Jeff mentioned that Brains should be there to watch with them. Before Scott could answer, Jeff got up and went down to the lab to fetch Brains.

Jeff smiled as Brains essentially shooed him from his lab. He knew all he needed to know about the mission, and he had a direct link with his friends over there. He didn’t need the broadcast to know what was happening.

Brains did take a break once he saw the data start streaming in. After a moment, he made a hurried call to his friends, but they didn’t answer. They were probably all too busy celebrating the mission’s success. He could see a problem brewing. He went up to the lounge to inform Mr. Tracy of his concerns. He saw them all watching the broadcast still and expressed his concern. A few moments later, the broadcaster confirmed that they hadn’t fired their retro rockets to return them home. International Rescue was needed. While Jeff called Cape Kennedy, Brains went back to his lab to pour over his data and maybe distract himself some.

After his call, Jeff convened everyone in the lounge, and they started going over options. As they threw out ideas, Brains crunched numbers in his head. He knew that his birds and technology were good, but would they be good enough? Safety and excellence first, he always told himself, which meant that he had extra room to work, but even pushing things, it was too close to tell if they could pull this off. Thunderbird 3 could withstand a lot, but this went well over anything they thought to test. She would have the clearer shot with her beam, but Thunderbird 2’s were stronger. The problem was, he couldn’t just switch them with each other. He could modify them both, maybe make them work a little bit better, but he couldn’t just switch them. He stored that as a future problem to solve.

In the end, they took Gordon’s idea and decided to try both approaches. Hopefully 1 or both would work. Just before Thunderbird 3 was ready to launch, Scott came down by him.

‘Hey fella,’ he started, handing him a cup, ‘have some coffee.’

‘T-thanks Scott. I-I’m still nervous about this mission. The numbers are too close to tell.’

‘Safety and excellence first, right?’ Scott said, turning him around to face him. ‘You’ve poured every fiber of your being into these craft. I trust that they will get the job done.’

‘S-scott…’

‘No, Brains. I trust you. I trust your machines. Trust me on this mission. We will bring them home and be home before you know it.’

‘Of course I trust you. I-it’s the numbers, that’s all. I-I can’t stop going over them.’

‘You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t,’ Scott said, giving him a hug. ‘Dad wants to meet with us all 1 more time before we launch.’

‘I-I’ll only be a moment. I just need to put these panels back on.’

‘Good man,’ Scott said as he left to return to the lounge. Brains kept thinking. There were too many unknowns, it was too close.

Up in the lounge, they went over the mission parameters 1 more time. Jeff couldn’t hide his worry about sending Tin Tin on the mission, but Alan was right, he needed an engineer with them in space. Brains was needed in Thunderbird 2 for her part. After the briefing, Scott stole a quick moment with Brains.

‘Save this for later,’ he said, handing him a box. He then returned to the lounge and set off.

With Thunderbird 3 launching, Brains shifted his focus to Thunderbird 2. He couldn't shake off his anxiety with this mission, and it got worse the more he ran his numbers. He had to keep telling himself to have faith. After all, Scott seemed to have faith in him and his machines. He repeated to himself that he was an excellent engineer, and he wouldn’t be with International Rescue if he wasn’t. Thankfully he made sure to have his checklists for everything. They helped to keep him on point. Unfortunately, they weren’t a fool proof way to check everything. He missed that Virgil had packed the wrong box.

Before leaving the island, Brains put the box that Scott had given him on his work bench. He needed to grab some of his tools to make some adjustments to Thunderbird 2.

Out in space, the first part of the mission was relatively uneventful. Scott heard Alan mumbling to himself.

‘I just don’t get him sometimes.’

‘Who Alan?’ Alan looked at him surprised. He hadn’t realized that he was talking loud enough for anyone else to hear him.

‘Brains. It’s been bothering me. I mean, why would he rather play with his robot than watch the broadcast with us? Wouldn’t he have seen the issue sooner?’ Scott shook his head.

‘Did it ever occur to you that he wanted to keep himself busy? Or that he has friends in mission control that were feeding him information faster and earlier than any broadcast could?’

‘Ummm…’

‘In fact, if he hadn’t been in his lab to see the data himself, he probably wouldn’t have realized the danger as fast as he did. Did you know that he tried to call mission control before coming upstairs?’

‘No, I didn’t,’ Alan answered sheepishly.

‘His friends were so busy that they didn’t see the danger, nor did they answer his call.’ Alan was seeing Scott’s passionate side. It could be downright intimidating.

‘Geeze Scott, don’t jump down my throat. It was just a question.’

‘Alan, you and I both know that it wasn’t ‘just a question’. There was more to it than that. You honestly thought that he didn’t care.’

‘Whatever Scott.’

‘No Alan, not whatever. If you had spent even 5 minutes with him before all of this, you would have known. Instead, you assumed and let yourself get hung up over nothing. Did you know that he’s looking to gift Braman to the space program? Did you know that if the Sun Probe mission goes well, that they’re considering other deeper space missions?’

‘Wait, really?’ Scott turned his attention to the panel in front of him and continued speaking.

‘Yea, there’s talk about a deep space manned mission, but that’ll probably need to involve those hibernation sleepers. Which means that they’d need something to help watch over the ship while her astronauts are asleep, that’s why he built Braman. That’s why he’s trying to get him perfected. Braman would be a huge asset to them.’

‘I didn’t know all of that,’ Alan admitted.

‘No you didn’t Alan.’ Things were quiet for a little bit before Alan spoke up.

‘Say Scott. How do you know all of this? Last I checked, you didn’t have a huge interest in space exploration.’

‘I’ve spent time with him, taking interest in his interests.’ Alan got quiet again. He realized how wrong he really was about just about everything in the past 24 hours.

‘I’m sorry Scott. It was pretty rotten of me to think that way about him.’ Scott ruffled his hair.

‘It’s ok Sprout. Next time though, look at the situation from all sides. You were just looking through your eyes, that you didn’t see things through his. It’ll help you with your missions too, you know. Bad assumptions/blindness lead to mission failures.’

‘I will Scott, I promise. Say, if I act like a twit like this again, feel free to snap me out of it.’

‘Sure little brother, sure.’ After their conversation, they decided to test their beam. Scott was hoping that they’d be lucky. The beam wasn’t enough, they had to go closer, but Scott didn’t want to risk Tin Tin’s life.

‘Alan, call Tin Tin and tell her to get to the escape capsule.’

‘Scott, we can ask her if she wants to go, but I know her well enough to know how she’ll answer.’

‘It’s not about asking her, Alan. I’m telling her to get into the escape capsule.’

‘Listen Scott. She knew the risks when she came with us, and we need an engineer down there. I might be good, you might be good, but out of the 3 of us, she’s the best. If something needs to be adjusted or if something goes wrong, we will need her to fix it. I trust my bird, but I simply don’t know enough about the beam to fix it if it breaks, or even how much I can push it.’

‘She doesn’t have to take this risk with us.’

‘She chose to come. You can ask her, but I’m pretty sure that I know her answer.’

‘You don’t speak for her you know. I know you two are close, but you don’t make decisions for her.’

‘Like what you're trying to do now?’

‘Touché little brother.’

‘Scott, ask her, but don’t be surprised when she tells you no.’ Alan was right. She refused to leave them.

Back on Earth, Brains and Virgil were busy working on their own calculations. Their beam wasn’t good enough. The beam in Thunderbird 3 would have to work. Brains knew that Tin Tin was working tirelessly on her own modifications and calculations. It had to work. As Brains picked through his own data to see if he could get their beam to work, he saw the Sun Probe craft move to head back towards Earth. Brains thought to himself, after this mission, I am picking apart every piece of this data. Thunderbird 3 needs to be able to handle deeper space missions if the space agency was going to go deeper into space.

As he was deep in thought, they heard from base. Mr. Tracy confirmed that Thunderbird 3 was able to fire the Sun Probe’s rockets, but they could see that Thunderbird 3 hadn’t fired her own to turn around to return home. He had to do something. This mission would not end this way. They still had their beam. Thunderbird 3 was closer to the Earth than the Sun Probe. Maybe they could reach 3. It was a long shot, but they had to try. He discussed his idea with Virgil. Virgil was on board, so they went over to the pod to get the mobile computer. Brains needed help with the math. They discovered that they had packed Braman by accident, but he was able to get the job done. His calculations brought Thunderbird 3 and her crew home.

After the mission debrief, and some much needed rest, Scott joined Brains and Braman in their game of chess.

‘Did you open my box?’

‘No Scott. W-with the excitement of the mission, I didn’t have time. I’ll go get it.’

‘I’ll walk down with you.’ They made the quick walk in comfortable silence. Scott saw the box, picked it up, and handed it to Brains. ‘You didn’t have to wait, you know. Here, open it.’ It was a simple box. Brains opened it, unsure why Scott had given him this.

‘O-one of your dog tags?’

‘Yes, I wear the other one still,’ he said, pulling out the one around his neck. ‘But, I wanted you to have this.’ Scott took the necklace out of the box and put it around Brains’s neck. ‘Do you know what it means when a soldier give someone their dog tags?’

‘No Scott, I don’t.’

‘Soldiers do not share their tags easily or lightly. It signifies the highest trust and respect. It means that I trust you with my life. It is also a reminder that you are never alone, and that you’ll always have someone fighting for you.’ Scott steadied himself, his hand covering the do tag on Brains’s chest. Brains was at a loss for words.

‘I want you to know how I feel. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I care about you a lot, and I cannot imagine my life without you in it.’

‘Nor I without you S-scott. Thank you for this,’ he said, placing his hands over Scott’s on his chest. ‘I’ll cherish this always.’

#thunderpride #thunderpride 2024

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astranite · 5 months ago

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Trans John and all the stars in the sky.

A drawing of a younger John who hasn’t got it all figured out but is ever looking upwards, with a lot of feelings of being something and neither both, but never what anyone is saying you are. This is John.

@thunder-pride

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanart #john tracy #thunderpride #thunderpride 2024 #astra art

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thunder-pride · 7 months ago

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It’s the 1st of May! One month until June and a whole lot of fun awaits us! While you’re counting down with us, now’s the time to gather your art supplies, sharpen your pencils (and your typing skills!), and queue up your faves!

Whether you want to use each day to explore headcanons both new and old, get ready to take part in events, or celebrate Pride with us - we’re excited to have you and look forward to seeing what you make!

If you’d like some inspo - you could combine these prompts with our random identity generator!

A post regarding the Gift Exchange sign ups is forthcoming and when posted, a link will be added [HERE] SIGN-UPS CLOSED

A text version of the calendar can be found under the cut below 😊

EVENT - 1 & 2 June - Ask Game

3 June - Bingo #1 Prompts

4 June - Gordon Day

5 June - Gay Men and Lesbian Day

6 June - Scott Day

7 June - Agender and Bigender Day

EVENT - 8 & 9 June - Palette Challenge

10 June - Bingo #2 Prompts

11 June - Aromantic and Asexual Day

12 June - Tin-Tin and Kayo Day

13 June - Genderqueer and Genderfluid Day

14 June - Virgil Day

EVENT - 15 & 16 June - Headcanon Weekend

17 June - Bingo #3 Prompts

18 June - Alan Day

19 June - Transgender Day

20 June - Brains and Jeff Day

21 June - Multisexual Day (e.g. Bisexual, Pansexual, Omnisexual)

EVENT - 22 & 23 June - Photo Prompts

24 June - Bingo #4 Prompts

25 June - Polyamorous Day

26 June - John Day

27 June - Demisexual and Demiromantic Day

28 June - Lady Penelope and Parker Day

EVENT - 29 & 30 June - Gift Exchange

#thunderpride #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderpride info

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alexthefly · 5 months ago

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THUNDERPRIDE GIFT EXCHANGE

Happy Pride everybody!!! Hope you've all enjoyed the month's festivities and all the Thunderbirds-y goodness. I've got a bit of reading and art to catch up on, but what I've seen so far has all been amazing - you're all so damn talented! 😊

For the Thunderpride gift exchange I was lucky enough to be matched with the incomporable @emtb319 ! I've taken their prompt of seaside and kinda run with it, but if you look closely and squint a bit, you might just spot hints of their other prompts - stray cat and green - as well.

Also just to say that although this was meant to be pure Earth and Sky fluff, it did get a bit angsty in the middle (when does it not with me? 😅) But I promise it all turns out well in the end.

Hope you like it. Thankyou so much for the prompts, and happy Pride!

Word count: 2365

Also available to read on AO3

Just You

The morning of the annual Pride beach party had broken warm and bright, and now at mid-morning the place was jumping. Right across the crowded seafront, smiling people draped in banners and flags of every kind thronged together in a cacophony of colour and sound. Grilling stations had been set up along the edge of the beach to cater for the hungry revellers and, on the stage at the far end, performers in elaborate costumes kept the mood high with a joyous concoction of music, spectacle and thumping beats.

From his vantage point on the stone steps leading up from the beach, Scott Tracy was surrounded by the sounds, sights, and smells of a damn good time. Entranced, he took a moment and just breathed the jubilant atmosphere in.

It was intoxicating.

After a few minutes, he sensed his brother draw up next to him, a cool oasis of calm in a tumultuous sea of sensation.

“Quite the scene, huh?”

He breathed. “...Yeah.”

A delicious-smelling package was suddenly thrust into his hands.

“Got you some chips,” smiled Virgil knowingly.

Scott’s spirits soared and he tore into the paper cone immediately. Real British chips - distinct from fries and, according to Parker at least, far superior - were a rare treat that were best enjoyed piping hot.

That first bite of salty, crispy fluffiness elicited a moan of pleasure from him that frankly bordered on the obscene.

Parker might have had a point.

Thankfully the ambient noise from the party spared him most of his blushes, although of course Virgil’s ever-sensitive ear caught it; but he just chuckled, rolled his eyes and turned his attention to his own similar package.

Over on stage the bands were swapping over, with the new one announcing themselves - Cat Distribution Network - before launching into a cover of some old dance track. It was apparently a popular choice; the crowd on the beach cheered, pulsed and tossed in waves to the beat.

“They sound good,” said Virgil, popping one of his own chips into his mouth. “That song works well pitched lower like that. Makes the chorus more robust. And the sax solo in the middle eight is an interesting choice - I’ve not heard that done before.”

Scott had no idea if the changes to the song were any good or not, but he nodded anyway, happy to hear his brother chatting away about something he enjoyed.

“So, you gonna go change?”

Unlike Virgil, who was already back in his familiar red flannel and jeans, Scott was still sporting his distinctive IR blues from the opening ceremony earlier.

He shoved another morsel of fried goodness in his mouth.

“Food first.”

Virgil smirked. “Alright,” he said, “but I’m not explaining it to Brains if you end up with grease stains down your jacket.”

It was an empty threat - their uniforms were engineered to be way more than stain-resistant - but Scott made a show of wiping his fingers on his brother’s sleeve anyway, just because. Virgil grumbled, but let it slide. He could hardly complain; oil stains were kind of his signature look.

Scott finished off his chips and, crumpling the paper into a ball, pitched it straight into the recycling bin; nothing but net.

“Show-off,” grumbled Virgil, picking his own attempt up off the floor and spiking it in.

“Gotta make a good impression Virg,” replied Scott, just a little smug. “We’re official representatives at this event, after all.”

Technically it was Tracy Industries who were the actual sponsors for this year’s shindig, but it had been agreed all round that an appearance from International Rescue at Pride was just too much good publicity to turn down. It was also for that reason that a certain green sky-whale was currently parked on a specially-built platform just off the main beach, temporarily adorned with about fifty different painted flags of the LGBTQIA+.

There’d been a lot more than just oil on Virgil’s shirt for the last few days.

But unlike his ‘bird - or a certain squid, who even at this moment was sparkling his way somewhere across the packed beach dressed head-to-toe in pink, yellow and blue sequins - Virgil himself had apparently gone the subtle route with his own attire this year, choosing only a small green and blue pin in recognition of his own identity.

It was a very Virgil move.

“So, didn't fancy getting all dressed up, huh?”

Virgil shrugged. “Nah. I wasn't feeling it,” he said, nudging a stray pebble down the steps with his boot.

Virgil hadn't really ever been the type to draw attention to himself. Not shy exactly, at least not the way John was sometimes in a crowd, he preferred to play a background, backup role to bolder, more adventurous (reckless?) brothers. Sure, he’d done all the usual art student-y things in college - hair colour, nose piercing, his infamous goth phase - but none of it had stuck.

The truth was that Virgil had never really felt the need to shout about who he was. He just…was. Even with his sexuality, there had been no “coming out” as such; somehow they’d all always known he was gay, just as Virgil had always known that they knew.

Still, it was a surprise not to see him with at least a little glitter in his hair today. Pride was a big deal in the Tracy household. Obviously Gordon was the usual driving force for getting the family into the spirit of things, but Virgil had always been right there behind him, ready to make his little brother’s more outlandish plans happen with all the enthusiasm and creativity that a double masters in engineering and art demands.

So why had Scott been left to source his own fairy wings this year?

“Are you okay, Virgil?” He asked, realising the need to tread carefully. “You don't exactly seem…yourself.”

Brown eyes looked up at him from under thick, slightly knitted eyebrows.

“I’m fine, Scott.”

Uh-huh. Nice try.

“Virg…”

He put one hand gently on the shorter man’s shoulder, noting the tension carried through it. Scott squeezed gently, and was happy to feel taut muscles relax just a little.

“Talk to me, Virgil.”

His brother held fast for a moment, but then seemed to wilt.

He sighed.

“I just… Look, I love Pride. Really I do. It's vibrant and joyful and so so important. But…” He swallowed. “I just wonder if… Is it all worth it?”

Scott tilted his head.

Nope, gonna have to run that by me again.

“If what's worth what?”

Virgil huffed, clearly struggling for the right words.

“If… If maybe I’m getting too old for all this.”

There was a moment where Scott knew he should be sensitive and simply listen, but he just couldn't hold back the sudden laugh trying to burst the back of his throat.

“Too old? You?!”

He gave in and let it out.

“Virgil, for god’s sake! If you’re over the hill then I must be at death’s door! You’re not even thirty yet! ‘Too old’...”

Glare-powered daggers stabbed at him as he fought for composure.

“It's a young person’s game, Scott. All of this…” He swept his arm across the scene of the party. “I just don't seem to have the energy for it at all.”

Down the beach, as if to illustrate the point, Cat Distribution Network were on their second encore; a loud, clangy, cymbal-fest of noise that sounded to Scott a lot like the last tropical storm they’d had back home.

Okay, maybe he had a point right this second, but…

“Virgil, you don't have to be young to enjoy Pride. It's not just for teenagers and Gordon; it's for everyone, from stroller to walker, every walk of life. It doesn't have to be the parade or this party - there's all kinds of things going on, from the clubs to the local library. Everyone’s welcome at Pride; there's something for everyone.”

He reached across and pulled his brother closer to him, needing more contact.

“And I know you know that. So tell me, what's really going on?”

Virgil said nothing for a moment, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the ground, brow furrowed.

Scott waited.

“I guess… I s’pose it's just that these days it's hard to feel connected to that side of me anymore. Being gay, I mean.”

Virgil shifted and sat down on the step, resigned to spilling his guts, and Scott went with him, refusing to let go.

“I guess with what we all do, how busy we are, it doesn't leave a lot of time for other things - dating and whatnot - and that's fine; I love what we do. It's what I signed up for. But lately it feels like… oh I don't know! Like I should be doing more. Being more gay.”

Scott's brain glitched.

“Being more gay?”

Virgil nodded.

“Doing more. Making a show of it. No-one ever looks at me and goes ‘oh yeah, there's a gay guy’. I’m not flashy or flamboyant or camp; I don't go to nightclubs or have… Oh, I don't know, posters of Judy Garland on my wall. I’ve never been that kind of person.”

He put his head in his hands, hiding his face from Scott.

“I guess what I’m saying,” he said quietly, “is that I don't really feel as if I belong here. I see all these people showing off their identities and revelling in them and I… I just don't feel…valid.”

There was a moment of silence as each of them processed what had just been said. Virgil seemed to shrink in on himself, spent from the effort of verbalising it all, but Scott remained motionless, brain churning.

Wow.

Where to begin?

How long had Virgil been feeling like this? Feeling like his own identity didn't belong to him?

His brother was so sensitive to everyone else’s feelings and moods, but he almost never talked about his own; not without being asked, or using them to offer advice to someone in need of it. He was always so busy playing backup to the rest of them, seeming so comfortable in his skin, self-assured, not needing to perform…

Had Scott really misunderstood his brother so badly?

Virgil was still sitting there, not moving, head still in his hands. Slowly, gently, Scott shifted around until he was right in front of him, then reaching slowly out and gently pried his brother’s hands apart, scooching down to try to catch his eye.

“Virgil, I don't…”

No, that's not right.

He took a breath and started again.

“I can't know what it feels like to be gay in this world. It's something I’ve never known; never could know. You have all the knowledge of how that feels. All I can tell you is how I see it from the outside.”

“And what I see… is you.”

Virgil looked up at him, brow furrowed.

“Those things you just listed?” Scott continued, resting one hand on his knee. “They're all only one way to be gay; they're not the blueprint. Stereotypes and archetypes aren't the be all and end all; there's as many ways to be queer as there are stars in the sky, and just as many ways to celebrate that queerness.”

Brown eyes dimmed, full of doubt.

“You don't have to perform it for anyone or put on some costume. You painted the flags on Two. You helped Gordon with his costume. You…”

He could feel himself flailing.

“Virgil, you love so completely. You live your life with your whole heart, every single day. You do it your own way; you always have.”

He reached out to put one hand on the back of Virgil’s neck, bringing him in closer until their foreheads touched.

“You are you, and you are gay, so being you is showing your gayness. No ifs, no buts. It just is. You don’t have to prove anything. Those two things are inexorably linked, Judy Garland poster or not.”

He felt a small chuckle rumble through his brother’s chest and breathed an internal sigh of relief.

“Just be, Virgil,” he said. “That's all. Just be you.”

A breath. Two.

“...Thanks Scott.”

And suddenly he needed to be closer than just a forehead. Arms acted on their own accord, wrapping around each other in a fierce hug, each of them desperate to reassure the other that they were there, that it was okay.

It was all going to be okay.

From over his shoulder Scott could hear the party clearly still going on strong. Cheers and noise bounced around the beach as the next band struck up on stage, and as the first chords sounded, the crowd roared their approval.

I am what I am,

I am my own special creation…

Scott and Virgil looked at each other, and dissolved into fits of giggles at the serendipity of it all.

Sometimes it was just like that at Pride.

Eventually they managed to get a hold of themselves again. Virgil extricated himself from his brother’s arms and stood up to brush himself off.

The song was still going into the second verse, with the crowd singing along to every word in raucous harmony.

“Now this?” he said, inspiration dancing in his eyes, “This is a Pride song worth getting a little dressed up for.”

Grinning, he reached across to Scott’s baldric and nabbed his laser cutter. Then working quickly, he bent down and burned a small tear in each jean leg, before ripping them right across the mid-thigh. He kicked off the remaining tubes of denim, leaving him in a pair of ragged shorts. Then he shrugged his shirt off, whipped off his undershirt (drawing interested looks from more than a few passers-by), and finally pulled his red flannel back on, tying the bottom of it tight across his chest, Daisy Duke style.

The effect was striking.

“How do I look?” he asked, standing proud.

Scott smiled.

“Very you.”

Virgil beamed.

“Dance with me?” he asked, holding out a chivalrous hand to him.

Scott took it with a little curtsy. “I thought you’d never ask,” he said, smiling broadly.

And with that the pair of them made their way joyfully down the steps - sand, heels and spirits all kicking high - to join the celebration.

#thunderpride gift exchange #thunderpride #emtb319 #earth and sky #virgil tracy #scott tracy #angsty fluff #AlextheFly fic #thunderpride 2024

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