#thunderfluff

[idontknowreallywhy]

Comb

A wee commute-fic. Unedited. Very random dad!Scott moment. Not entirely unrelated to how I spent my Sunday evening…

💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️

It wasn’t an activity ever likely to make it on to the parenting highlight reel.

Alan squirmed and whined as the comb caught an invisible tangle and the towel slipped off his shoulders.

“Try to keep still Allie, it’ll just take longer if I keep losing where I’ve got up to.”

“Ugh this is so gross and embarrassing and soooo unfair.”

“Happens to us all, little bro. But it’ll be over quicker if you stop wriggling.”

If only he’d been the only thing wriggling. Scott resisted the urge to scratch himself violently. It was just psychological, but they did give him the creeps.

The 12 year-old huffed but relented and leaned back against his big brother’s legs. He wiped the comb and started again, methodically parting and combing, parting and combing. To be fair, Scott suspected he hadn’t been particularly cooperative when it had been him been cross legged on the floor in front of his Mom’s towel-covered knees…

He could remember the sensation of her gentle fingers through his hair, the half frustration half amusement in her voice:

“Try to keep still little Bluebird, it’ll just take longer if I keep losing where I’ve got up to.”

Young Scott was a fool to try to wriggle away. Old Scott pushed his shoulders back against her legs and relished the moment of closeness before something distracted him again.

“Are you done?”

He’d frozen, comb in midair, lost in a memory.

“Nearly. Hang in there.”

The Tracys hadn’t needed to battle an Infestation for years - one of the benefits of Alan being homeschooled. But he’d returned from a week at coding camp playing host to an old enemy. Luckily Scott had watched Mom give Virgil and John the same treatment so he knew what to do when the baton was passed to him. Part it, comb it, comb it again, part it, comb it…

Allie’s hair wasn’t as baby soft as it once was, the slight greasiness of the teenage years was beginning and it was a darker blonde now. Scott put the comb down and added the weird smelling gel, threading his fingers through slowly to cover every strand. If he lingered a little longer, than necessary, relishing a task his fast growing charge still needed help with, nobody would know. He was just being thorough.

Finally he wiped his hands and placed them on Alan’s shoulders, leaning around to look him in the face while keeping his own hair a decent distance from his brother’s - he didn’t want anyone to have to return the favour.

“You’re all good. Leave it half an hour then shower it off and it’ll be no more than a memory.”

Moody blue eyes softened as they looked back at him.

“Thanks. Sorry I was a pain. I guess Dad-Bro triumphs again, huh?”

Scott smiled.

“I guess he does.”

💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️

[astranite]

Rest

Fluff, Earth and Sky, plus Scott getting a nap. A.K.A Virgil gets Scott a weighted blanket.

EDIT!!! I used one of the Fluffember 2023 prompts in here but completely forgot to tag or mention that. Prompt is "Say: "Thank you for...""

A little inspired by the fic in where Virgil gets a weighted blanket (https://archiveofourown.org/works/23042224 Insomnia by chidoriXblossom), mine written because I think Scott would like one too. And we all know he needs more sleep. Plus soft furnishings!Scott!!!

Also- "This will be only like 500 words max," my muse lied.

So, another fic! Mostly was written on the bus on my phone, while wandering around the kitchen looking for something to eat yesterday, and on notes on my laptop when the Aussie internet and phone service met its untimely demise today.

@idontknowreallywhy With the last 2 paragraphs and hopefully less typos!! Hope you're feeling better too. SOFT FURNISHINGS!SCOTT!

-----

“Got you a present,” Virgil said, holding out a package wrapped in shiny blue paper. 

Scott took it without hesitation, utterly unprepared, because this was Virgil, not Gordon or Alan or any other trouble makers.

He staggered at the sudden, unexpected weight.  Scott kept fit for international rescue and lifted more than this on any given day, but dropped into his hands where Virgil made it look like nothing. Well, he nearly dropped it. 

Just as Virgil lunged to snatch it back from the bounds gravity, Scott  got a firmer grip on the package and hefted it up. 

Virgil stepped back, grinning, nearly as excited as the day they sent Two to space. “Open it, Scotty!”

Scott dutifully sat down on the couch with the package in his lap, slipping his fingers beneath the tape. 

“But why, why today?” Scott asked. 

It wasn’t Christmas. He determined it was not his birthday after quickly counting out what month was it anyway because he’d lost track with how busy he’d been lately. He wasn’t forgetting something else was he? Some important event that wasn’t in his calendar? Oh damn, was he supposed to have gotten his brothers presents too?

Virgil sat down by his side. 

“You’re alright Scott, no occasion. Present’s just because.” Virgil smiled. 

Scott bumped his shoulder against Virgil’s in a wordless act of affection. 

Then he turned to the shiny present he held, excitement bubbling up. 

What could it be? 

The package was soft, moving about fluidly within the paper, which would usually bring to mind something along the lines of an item of clothing. But whatever it was was far too heavy for that. Even allowing for thick denim or mission suit material, but Virgil wouldn’t wrap up a routine update, and that sort of engineering generally came under Brains’ department. 

With the strange slithery, many grains of sand running over each other noise it made whenever it shifted, at this point Scott would expect a prank, even from Virgil. 

Except that Virgil was right next to him, just as genuinely happy to be seeing him open the present as Scott was to receive it. Plus his brother was a frankly awful liar and trying to cover for it by, say, hiding his face in his hands while suspiciously giggling behind them had never worked once, for the record. 

So Scott shook the package vigorously, when Virgil didn’t stop him assuming it was non breakable, then gave up on the whole guessing game to get to the real deal. 

He tore the paper off with a grin, foregoing attempts to be neat about it because he just wanted to see what it was. 

Copious amounts of blue fabric poured into his lap. Heavy, weighted fabric, trying to slither to the floor as he grabbed at it and pulled it up. 

The thing was soft too, fluffy on one side and more fuzzy on the other, Scott discovered as he ran his hands over it. 

A quilted blanket of some kind, a big one too. Scott hefted it and spread it across himself and Virgil to lay it out so he could see it. 

It was— oh, “A weighted blanket?” he asked Virgil. 

Virgil nodded, smiling widely, “I thought you’d like one of your own, since you seem to like mine so much.”

That was true. Even on the last movie night when Virgil had brought out his own green, wonderfully soft monstrosity of a blanket that practically required an exosuit to lift, Scott had ended up sharing it with him. 

He never would have bought one for himself, he didn’t need it, but Virgil has seen and he had gotten him one. 

Scott threw his arms around his brother and whispered a heartfelt, “Thank you for— for everything,” into Virgil’s flannel. 

Virgil hugged him tight. “Glad you’re happy, Scooter.” 

Scott swallowed. “Yeah. I am.”

He stayed in the hug, letting himself lean on Virgil.

Eventually he pulled away, bumping his forehead with Virgil’s briefly in another thanks, before flopping backwards onto the sofa. 

He dragged the blanket over his body, snuggling down beneath it, to try it out properly. 

Virgil tugged the edges out straight, patting Scott on the leg where he’d slung them over Virgil’s lap to fit onto the couch. 

“‘M not moving ever again,” Scott mumbled. 

The blanket’s weight pressed down on him comfortingly, like the soothing pressure of a tight hug. The fabric was soft, fluffy and warm, but not too hot for their tropical island. It covered his feet even when he pulled it right up to his chin. 

Scott was in heaven. 

When he shut his eyes for a moment, letting the sensation sink in, Virgil snickered. “G’night, Scotty.”

Scott opened one eye to glare, then the other. He was not going to sleep. He was just getting comfortable, that was all.

He reluctantly removed one arm from beneath the blanket, wriggling his fingers towards Virgil. He could still work if Virgil would just pass him his tablet. 

Heaving a put upon sigh, Virgil reached for the side table and gave Scott his tablet, picking up his own sketch book. 

Scott opened his emails, hiding a smile. The blue eyes act still worked on his brother, evidently. 

Something, something, board meeting. Something, something, product development. He flicked a couple marked urgent open which weren’t even particularly important and shouldn’t have been flagged for him. He forwarded them on to be delegated to the correct people. 

Learning that he didn’t have to do absolutely everything had been a long process, and he was getting better at it. 

Scott continued through his bottomless inbox, so warm and comfortable he wasn’t even particularly annoyed with the uptight business people he had to deal with. Or at least he was minorly irritated as opposed to resisting the urge to throw his tablet across the room. He ran his free hand across the soft material, wound in the fluffy fabric while his other held his tablet. 

The blanket was working wonders. Quiet scratchings of pencil on real paper from Virgil did aid his calm somewhat too. But the weighted blanket was definitely going down in his favourite items of soft furnishings. Trust Virgil to have gotten it for him and gifted it just because. 

Scott’s blinks got slower and slower, and maybe he’d just rest his eyes for a moment, snuggled up on the couch with his brother and his new weighted blanket. 

Virgil looked up from his sketchbook at his brother. The permanently stressed crinkles between Scott’s brows were smoothed out, his face lax, his whole body a loose jumble of limbs instead of a wound up ball of tension. His arm arced gracelessly off the edge of the couch, tablet fallen on the floor beside it. His other hand was still gripping the blue blanket, hanging onto it even in his sleep. 

Because Scott was asleep. In the middle of the day, finally catching up on countless missed hours, even in the open lounge room, fast asleep with no signs of nightmares. 

A line of pencil on thick drawing paper, and Virgil begun to sketch Scott’s sleeping form, seeking to capture such a rare moment. He had no where to be, a mug of coffee beside him, and art supplies at hand so he was content. Plus he had his big brother close, legs still in Virgil’s lap, and no way he was moving to risk disturbing Scott, even if he wanted to, which he certainly didn’t.

Virgil smiled down at Scott, infinitely glad his present of a blue weighted blanket was comforting his brother and letting Scott get some much needed and well earned rest. 

[alexthefly]

Take My Hand

This was supposed to be a @flashfictionfridayofficial , but I was a bit late and got my timezones mixed up, and then the word count went over and... well here it is anyway.

Or read it on AO3 here.

Also tagging @tagloveandthunderbirds 'cos ❤️

Fandom: Thunderbirds/Thunderbirds are Go

Word count: 1048

Warnings: feet/shoes

---------------

“You ready to do this, Sweetheart?”

Lucy took her time smoothing down the front of her dress, purposely not looking at the empty dance floor yawning in front of her.

“Are you? You know dancing isn't exactly my forte; a first dance in front of all these people just seems like asking for trouble." She shuffled in her chair. "Are trampled feet covered by the wedding insurance?”

Jeff snickered. “I checked the policy just before I came over here. We’re all set.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. But I’m wearing heels, don't forget; it's going to be like Bambi on Ice out there.”

He shrugged. 

“Well I did suggest the hiking boots instead, but you shot me down; something about ‘the aesthetic’. Which looks stunning on you, by the way.” 

He stood back to better take her in, grinning appreciatively.

“Last time I make that mistake,” she muttered, waving away the compliment. “Given ‘the aesthetic’ is currently cutting off the circulation to my pinkie toe, respectfully ‘the aesthetic’ can go jump in a lake.”

She mentally cursed the salesperson who’d talked her into putting fashion ahead of comfort.

Concern flashed across Jeff’s handsome face. “Are they really hurting you, honey? We can get you other shoes.”

She smiled up at him reassuringly. “No really, I’m exaggerating …sort of. They just kinda pinch, that's all.”

If she was totally honest with herself, it wasn't even the salesperson’s fault, really. She’d been the one chasing a dream of being perfect and ladylike, even if it was only this once. Dammit, why was dressing up fancy so hard?!

Of course it didn't help that her new husband managed it so effortlessly. He was currently working ‘the aesthetic’ to within an inch of its life, cutting a very dashing figure in his elegant new grey suit and tie, dress shirt and shoes all perfectly matched and filled out perfectly.

Seriously, where did he get off being so good-looking? 

She’d just wanted to appear worthy of him, that’s all. Jeff Tracy: ace pilot, hometown hero, handsomest guy in the county and a genuinely good man to boot. He was the prince, and just once she’d wanted to feel like she could be his match - a princess - instead of some awkward, clutzy science nerd who’d somehow managed to win the husband lottery.

She sighed. Clearly that wasn't to be.

There was a pause, then without another word her very handsome husband - God, he really did look good in that suit - knelt down in front of her and took one of her feet gently in his hands. He examined the delicate and uncharacteristically high-heeled white shoe with utmost seriousness, before removing it and flinging it across the room.

“Jeff!”

Lucy felt her face burst into flames as a roomful of eyes turned towards them.

“What? Doesn't that feel better?”

In all fairness it absolutely did. She wiggled her newly-released toes appreciatively even as she fought the urge to hide underneath the table.

“You can't just go throwing shoes around. You’re making a scene.”

He stopped and looked at her, ignoring the rest of the room, then slowly and deliberately reached out and took hold of her other foot.

“I want to enjoy a dance with my beautiful new wife, and if these admittedly pretty little shoes are getting in the way of that…” 

The second shoe flew over his shoulder, just missing a nearby waiter.

“...then they’ve gotta go.”

The room was hushed; everyone was looking at them. Part of her wanted to run and hide in the coatroom until they’d all gone, but he was holding her gaze, keeping her steady. 

“I don't want anything getting between me and the most amazing, beautiful, perfect person I ever saw, ever again.”

He rose gracefully to his feet and held out his hand to her.

“So how about it? May I have this dance?”

…

It was late spring and the cicadas were singing. Airbase staff were bustling all around, knocking into her, sending papers flying everywhere. She knelt down to pick them up, and suddenly there was a hand in front of her.

“Can I give you a hand, Miss?”

…

It was fall, and the trees around them were every shade of red. They’d talked about everything and nothing, walking side by side, until he stopped and reached out to her.

“Would it be alright if I held your hand?”

…

It was winter and the snow was falling softly. His ice skates made long swooshing noises on the ice around her, while hers clacked noisily as she tried and failed to keep her footing. Another swoosh and then he was there in front of her, hand extended.

“Okay, so not my best idea. How about we go get a hot chocolate instead? My treat?”

…

It was the last days of summer, and the clear water of the lake lapped at her toes. She’d never felt so happy in her life. A perfect day. Beside her she felt him shift nervously, and then he was holding his hand out, a little red box in it, one knee on the ground.

“I’ve got a question I wanna ask…”

…

Her head flooded with the memories of a hundred moments, small and huge, all of them important. A hundred images of him offering his hand, and at last she understood.

He'd reached out for her.

She was the one. And she was worthy, just as she was.

Smiling, she accepted the offered hand.

“Of course you may, Mr Tracy.”

He grinned and bowed. “Why thankyou, Mrs Tracy.”

She rose and he led her, barefoot and spotlit, to the dance floor without a care in the world. Keeping her hand in his, he wrapped his other arm around her waist, enveloping her like a delicate, precious treasure, safe and protected. Their eyes met and he beamed at her like his face was made of actual sunshine.

She grinned back at him.

“You’re sure about that wedding insurance now? Last chance.”

“Don’t you worry about my toes, darlin’. Just keep a hold of me and we’ll do fine.”

And with that the band struck up an old favourite, and hand-in-hand they danced the night away.

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can't help falling in love with you.

[forest-falcon]

WIP Wednesday

The Polaroid 📸

"Is that what I think it is?"

Scott paced over to the wooden unit and scooped up a small polaroid camera.

"One of Gordon's finds - that kids sure loves his vintage gadgets. I like this one though; there's something special about a polaroid," Grandma gave a wistful smile.

"Bring back memories?"

"Oi, I'll have you know, they were old even when I was a girl!"

Scott gave a sheepish grin.

"Sorry."

Grandma batted the air in good humour.

"They're like vinyl records. They don't give you a perfect result, but there's some beauty in that."

Scott set the camera back down, then gathered up the tower of photos stacked next to it.

The first few featured the various sunrises Gordon must have snapped before his early morning swims; the dusky pinks and golds silhouetting slumbering palms.

Grandma was right. The pictures were beautiful.

Scott smiled and continued to flick through the images; the golds and pinks suddenly interrupted with a burst of cerulean blue.

"There's one of me in here!" Scott presented Grandma with the photo. I didn't know he had taken this.

"Oh, now that I like!" Grandma smiled, wafting the photo as though it needed drying.

The image was of John and Scott surfing together. A rare occurrence to be sure, but such a treasured memory.

There were others just like it.

Alan stargazing - the cosmos filling the night with such an abundance of stars, the polaroid looked somewhat surreal.

There was another taken not too long ago of Virgil with a seedling. Scott had walked in to find the gentle giant conversing with the tiny plant.

"Why on earth are you talking to a plant?"

"Helps it grow."

"Plants don't have ears."

"No, but they're living beings. All it takes for a soul to grow is a little time and love."

Scott couldn't argue with that. And although he wasn't convinced by the concept enough to strike up a conversation with the nearest tree; he did love his brother that little bit more for the kindness he brought to the world.

Scott gently set the image down.

"You're right Grandma, this camera is special."

Gordon's photos had captured life on the island in such a wonderful, smell-the-roses way. It gave him pause for thought. Gordon was so like Virg in that manner; seeing the good in the world. The camera was his canvas.

Scott had planned to file some more reports, but the love emanating from the pictures ultimately won out, and Scott sank into the sofa next to his Grandma.

The reports could wait.

It was time to appreciate the little things.

The commander slouched to allow for his head to rest on her shoulder, and they flicked through the remaining pictures together.

The photo pile was deceptively large.

Scott was just about to save the rest for another day when one in particular caught his eye.

"Who's this?"

Scott held up the polaroid for closer inspection.

"Who? Her?"

"Yeah, the girl kissing Alan."

"Oh! That's Mandy, Alan's girlfriend."

"Alan has a girlfriend?"

Grandma took a sip of tea.

"Mmm, I've only met her the once, but she was just lovely."

Scott stared at the picture. The girl was pretty, in a girl-next-door-type way.

"How did they meet?"

"How does Alan meet anyone?"

"Rescue?"

"Gaming."

"Oh."

Grandma set her tea down.

"They've been chatting for years online, then met in person at that comicon the boys went to last year. I believe there's a pic in here somewhere..."

Scott surrendered the remaining stack of photos, but continued to inspect the stranger... Mandy...to try and get a read on her. It was only a headshot of them both, so not much to go on. She was wearing a simple bobble hat and thick woolen scarf. Her face was somewhat obscured by a mass of bouncy dark curls, but as far as he could tell, she was besotted - all smiles as she kissed Alan.

"Ah! Found it!" Grandma handed him a second photo. Four figures beamed back at the camera. Warrior Alan, Elven Lord Virgil, Kraken Gordon and a grey-bearded wizard.

Scott squinted at the photo.

"This is her?"

"The wizard, yes."

Sure enough, some bouncy brown curls could just be seen jutting out from behind the faux beard.

"Hasn't she the most wonderful cow eyes?"

"Cow eyes?"

"Y'know - big, brown, soulful eyes."

"Can't say that I noticed."

"You, Scott Tracy? Not notice a pretty face? Are you feeling alright?"

"Hard to see it behind the beard,” he deadpanned.

Grandma swatted his arm.

“Besides, she's too young, Grandma. And so is Alan." He returned both photos to her and lightly folded his arms.

"He should be focussing on his studies."

"Oh, like you did at his age?" Grandma arched a brow.

"Scott, honey, your brother isn't twelve anymore."

Scott gave a noncommittal grunt.

"And, as far as I can tell, his grades have been exemplary."

It was true, his grades were well-above average, but Alan was still the baby of the family, and Scott wasn't quite ready to view him as anything else.

"Still, he has enough going on, doesn't he? Between coursework, International Rescue, driving lessons..." he trailed off.

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."

"He games." Scott offered.

Now it was Grandma's turn to fold her arms.

“Scott, he's twenty next month.”

“So?”

"So…you're telling me that you're happy to risk the life of your brother out on missions, but object to him being happy with someone he loves?"

"Loves? I thought it was just the odd date?"

"Like I said; they've been friends for years. But does it even matter? Date, hook-up, love.

I, for one, am just pleased to see your brothers are all happy with nice people."

"John isn't seeing anyone."

"Why? Did he break up with Ridley?"

"Captain O'Bannon is just a friend. They play handball together, that's all."

"Is that what the kids are calling it nowadays?" Grandma chuckled and took another sip of tea.

"Grandma!"

Grandma was the epitome of coy as she gave an innocent shrug.

"You're reading too much into things. What Captain O'Bannon and John have...it's strictly professional! They're work colleagues, nothing more."

"Okay Scott."

"What?"

"I'm just wondering at what point you thought International Rescue had become a nunnery?"

Scott cleared his throat.

"I - don't…think that”

He idly picked at a stitch that had come loose on the sofa.

“What I meant was, surely if they were all in relationships, they'd just tell me?"

"What? So you could give them the same reaction you gave me just now?"

Scott stood, and slowly paced in a circle as he digested.

"Is that how they see me...a prude?"

"No, I wouldn't say that. They just don't feel the need to run every last relationship by their brother. You sure didn't with your dad or myself when you were younger. We'd still be here today if that were the case!" Grandma gave another wicked chuckle and Scott groaned into his hands.

"Newsflash, your dad and I weren't as blind to those late night study partners as you thought we were. That script is as old as time!"

Scott squirmed as he looked for a way to redirect the focus back from himself.

"I guess Allie's just remained around twelve years old in my head. I blinked and he grew up."

"That's parenthood for you, Scott."

Scott flinched.

"Look kiddo, nobody could replace your dad. You're simply not him. But what you've grown into... well, you've not just filled your father's shoes; you've sized up! Allie has had one hell of a guardian."

The sincerity of her tone brought a lump to Scott's throat. It was all he had ever hoped for. To do right by his family, his brothers…by little Allie.

"You had to grow up pretty fast and I used to worry about the toll that would take on you, but look how much you've grown - from a bereaved little boy to just the finest man! Not just the Commander of International Rescue, but a wonderful brother, guardian and grandson too."

"You're too kind, Grandma."

"I'm merely stating facts. You never stop worrying. Parents, guardians - it doesn't matter. But you can't let that worry clip their wings. It's time you opened your eyes to see how much your brother has grown too. He isn't twelve, Scott; but the wonderful young man he's grown into is a testament to how much love we, as a family - how much love you have poured his way."

[squiddokiddo]

So I know you've seen this one before but I'm trying out a bit of writing and I wrote a snippet for this drawing and I want the fic and the art to be together. Criticism is welcome but please be gentle, this is my first posted fic.

Edit - I originally made the mistake of thinking Whitby was in Cornwall so that line has now been changed.

‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊꒷︶꒷꒥꒷˚₊‧

"Carry me?"

–• Fandom: Thunderbirds, Thunderbirds are go • Genre: Fluff • Characters: Gordon Tracy, OC (Seasquirt Tracy) • Pairings: None • Warnings: None •–

• • • • •

Gordon had booked the day off to give himself and his so called apprentice a break, they'd both been training hard all week and had definitely earned a little down time. They'd taken a trip to Whitby, an old seaside town located in England, it definitely wasn't his first choice mind you but Lady Penelope had highly recommended the location for a relaxing day out.

Gordon and Squirt had had a chilled morning browsing little village shops and stopping for a light breakfast and coffee in one of the cafés, maybe filling a 12 year old with caffeine wasn't the best idea but it was Squirt's treat and no one was going to tell him off for letting the kid have a little fun, not Scott, not Virgil not anyone. Gosh his brothers could be so overbearing sometimes.

Currently they we're waiting for the sun to reach a high enough point to make the sea warm enough to swim in, in the meantime they'd both decided that sight seeing would be a good time killer, that and hopefully all the wandering around would use up that coffee energy. First stop the 199 steps.

They'd just arrived at the bottom where cobblestone streets turned into paved stairs, Gordon gripped the black painted railings and started his assent, one, two, three, four steps up when suddenly:

"Carry me?"

Gordon halted and peered over his shoulder at the source of the request standing a couple of steps below. Good god he'd wished they hadn't decided to ask this now.

"Aren't you a little old for that, Squirt?" He replied half smirking, turning around to face them.

"Scott carries Alan and he's 16." Squirt protested, jokingly pouting a little.

Squirt was right, there wasn't technically an age limit on being carried in the Tracy family, heck in their line of work it was common to need a little help to get around after exhausting themselves with missions.

"Yeah well Alan's a wimp." He chuckled "All that space flight is making his knees weak." Obviously not a true statement but since when did taking jabs at your siblings have to involve facts?

Squirt rolled their eyes biting back a laugh "Gords, you know that's not what I mean!!" They hopped a couple of steps up to meet their bro.

"I want a piggyback ride, wait no - uhh - a squiddyback!!" They exclaimed reaching their arms up "Please?"

Gordon laughed "Squirt I love you bub but I am not carrying you-" he paused to mentally count the steps "another 195 steps up the hill, come on you can't be that tired already."

He went to climb another step when Squirt grabbed the arm of his T-shirt.

"Pleeease."

Suddenly Gordon realised what this was about, it wasn't about not wanting to climb the steps or being tired or lazy, Squirt just wanted their big brother. Piggybacking was an expression of affection between the Tracy siblings and it hadn't really occurred to him that Squirt hadn't experienced that kind of love before becoming a part of their family.

He thought for a minute, it was a long trek up the hill but he could make an exception just this once. He sighed, turned away from his little sib and knelt down.

"Hop on."

The kid beamed and wasted no time in clambering onto the aquanaut's back, wriggling around and getting comfy as Gordon stood up and steadied himself under their weight.

"All set?" He asked.

"Aye aye, captain!!" They replied giving a little salute.

"Next stop, step 199!!"

• • • • •

[secret-library-of-tracy-island]

I’ve reread this one by @womble1 about 8 times, and it makes me cackle every time. Pure fluff and hilarious schenanigans.

Hallmark Christmas meets the Tracy boys.

Yes, I should have really waited until a more festive time of year to reblog this but, who knows, the world could end before then and what if that happened before you have read this fic?? It would be a disaster.

Rated about the same as the average Hallmark movie - fairly innocent banter but in a ‘romance’ context.

Read it now. But don’t get distracted and take a sip of coffee before laughing out loud…

[gumnut-logic]

Virgil hugs came in many flavours.

So, okay, Scott was the eldest and technically speaking, he was the least likely to need any hugs from his younger brother. In fact, Scott took pride in branding his own big brother hugs because, let’s face it, he was the eldest and nobody wanted to knock him off that throne. Virgil had been quite adamant about it on several occasions.

So only Scott could give the eldest brother hugs and they were very useful for distressed younger brothers, sad younger brothers and even on those occasions where the hug turned into something that could more be considered strangling younger brothers.

Scott wielded his hugs just like any other tool in his arsenal. Expertly and precisely. But it had long been declared that Virgil gave the best brother hugs and if he was honest, Scott was quite happy not to compete.

What exactly made Virgil hugs better than any other Tracy hugs had yet to be determined. The fact that Virgil was the biggest brother probably helped. Not the tallest. Scott and John were still discussing that title. No, his sheer mass enabled the biggest, warmest, softest, cosiest hugs of them all. Virgil was just buff and meaty.

Scott groaned. Meaty. That was a Gordonism, a subject that required a whole other essay to discuss. His fish brother had a way with words that sometimes curdled the stomach.

But hugs, yes, Virgil with his well worn ever so soft flannel and big meaty…Scott groaned again…arms gave the best hugs.

But, as stated previously, they came in many flavours.

The most common was the fond hug. An arm would snake around the victim brother and literally drag him into Virgil’s embrace. You could be standing alongside him, politely minding your own business and for some reason the engineer would just reach out and grab. Occasionally the arm wouldn’t make it all the way around and Virgil would clamp onto a body part and yank. Arms, chunks of uniform or clothing, a random ribcage. There was the time Virgil had actually pulled Gordon out of the pool by one leg. Possibly in revenge. But after Scott had suffered a cardiac arrest, Gordon had somehow ended up sprawled on top of Virgil on the grass. It had cumulated in laughter and a pile of noogie to Gordon’s hair, grins all round.

Yes, his brother had a hug zone around him and if you stepped into it at the wrong time, you were toast.

One of Scott’s favourites was the ones that defied gravity. Those big arms were strong and, on occasion, a little over enthusiastic. Ribcages creaked, hoarse voices begged to breathe, and feet left the ground.

Yes, even Scott had been tackle hugged and picked up off the ground and spun around. It had been after a particularly long deployment in the Airforce. He had been out of contact with his family for a long time. The day he finally got home, Virgil had barrelled into him in the farmhouse hallway, grabbing and lifting both him and his bags off the floor in an excited embrace that spun them around almost twice.

Scott had dropped his bags in surprise and squawked. His uniform bunched up against the ribbons on his chest and the world went around.

“Virg, my god!”

Dropped to his feet once more, he found himself wrapped in a brother who seemed much bigger than he had been when he left.

And he was clinging.

“Virgil?”

His brother cleared his throat, face buried in Scott’s jacket. “Missed you.”

Scott had returned the embrace wholeheartedly.

No words were possible after that as the two youngest realised their biggest brother was home and all hell broke loose as they and the rest of the family congregated.

But the genuine love in Virgil’s eyes as he stepped back to let the ratbags in on the party had stayed with Scott for a very long time.

Of course, there were other hugs that were much less joyous. Ones where everything was dark and hurting and Virgil would pick it up like he had radar or something. Could be linked to his legendary medic-sense. After all, mental health was exactly that. Just another form of health.

There was the time Alan vanished. Up and completely disappeared. This is a somewhat challenging thing to do on a rather singular rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Scott had been on the verge of calling John for a location, but a hand had landed on Scott’s tense shoulder and squeezed gently. They had been standing out on the balcony. Virgil gestured quietly and, looking up, Scott saw the tiny figure of his littlest brother curled up on the cliff just below the roundhouse.

There had followed a mad rush up the peak to make sure Alan was safe, find out what was wrong…because something was definitely wrong…and fix it.

Turned out some asshole online had been bullying Scott’s little brother, ruining the game contest he had been so excited about three days earlier.

Scott saw red and deployed John. The culprit had been found and eliminated.

Very eliminated.

John particularly hated online predators.

But after that conversation, Scott had turned around to find Alan curled up in Virgil’s arms sobbing.

Jammed up against the wall of the roundhouse, Virgil himself had wet eyes and was combing his fingers through Alan’s hair. As Scott sat down beside them on the floor, Virgil pulled Alan in a little tighter. The engineer buried his face in his little brother’s hair and closed his eyes.

In those moments it was like his brother was bleeding something of himself into the person he was hugging. His expression almost willing comfort into Alan.

Of course, Alan eventually dove in for a Scott hug as well, the thirteen-year-old dragging both of his brothers into a comforting pile that was able to push away the nasty experience and eventually bring back their confident little brother. But it was Virgil who performed the hugging first aid while Scott hunted down the person responsible – whether it be via John or other means.

It seemed to be their roles in the family.

And it wasn’t limited to family.

Out in the field it was more caring hands and reassuring touches and words, but it was Virgil’s way of comforting the injured. If he had time, he would talk with the rescuees. Warm and kind words asking gentle questions about their lives, distracting them from the bleeding, the screaming and the horror.

And ultimately holding those they couldn’t save, giving parts of himself to make those last minutes a little less terrifying.

It was after those rescues, those moments, when Scott would have to hunt Virgil down. Sometimes he would find him at the piano pounding emotion into the keys. Other times locked in his studio.

They had a running tally of how many times Virgil had had to replace the lock on that door. Scott rarely took ‘no’ for an answer when he knew a brother was in distress.

But the worst times often led Scott on a hunt across the Island to a remote beach, cliff or other lonely landform. Thunderbird Five’s scanners had been used several times. Times where Virgil was determined to be alone to suffer by himself.

Sure, Scott could respect that…if that was what Virgil needed.

It wasn’t.

Because the hug machine that was his brother needed hugs in return.

Sure, he had methods to refuel other ways, but honestly, these were the times Scott felt a direct transfer of energy was warranted.

Those were the days he would hunt his brother down, grab him and hold him until the trembling stopped. He would sit with Virgil staring out across the ocean either just being quietly beside him, or answering the raging questions of injustice.

Those were days he would drag him back to the couch and they would fall asleep together in front of a movie neither of them was watching. A hand or an arm continually in contact.

Those were the days where touch was needed to give back what was so freely offered at all other times.

Scott’s hugs may be tactical but they were no less full of love.

And love his brother, he did.

Ever so much.

-o-o-o-

[idontknowreallywhy]

Not a WIP really, just a random silly moment possibly inspired by real life events… mostly because I love the head canon that my boy gets overexcited about little things…

Virg! I WON THE HAMPER RAFFLE

The whatnow?

The raffle prize, it’s a hamper and I won it!

When were you in a raffle?

Oh, this charity thing at the pub we’re in. There was a raffle. Which I won!

Uh, well done? What’s in the hamper?

I dunno… British food.

Three types of teabags.

There are cookies...

Oh chocolates! The chocolate is pretty decent here actually.

Also Soap!

That’s quite the random selection.

Its done up all fancy too with ribbons and stuff.

It’s just really pretty.

I’ve never won a raffle!

I’m really pleased for you bro…

[astranite]

Tracy Puppy Pile!

Fluff and cuddles with all the Tracy bros in a hug pile!!!

For @idontknowreallywhy @edutainer2022 and everyone who needs to be part of a Tracy hug pile right now, this is for you. *hugs you all*

Very much written because of this post here :)

---

Scott sat on the lounge, just taking a moment. To relax into the cushions, to listen to the sounds of his brothers moving about the house, their voices and familiar footsteps washing over him, to be. To exist as just Scott, not the Commander, not the CEO and only in the capacity as dad’s firstborn son. A quiet morning with his brothers here, a respite from everything the world demanded of him was exactly what he needed. 

Alan was first to spot big brother. He dashed across the floor level, bouncing over the back of the couch to land sprawling next to Scott who ruffled his hair. Alan squawked and squirmed and managed to mess up Scott’s perfect hair to get him back. He got booped on the nose for his troubles by big brother who looked way more relaxed with curls falling over his forehead. Then Scotty tucked him under his arm and Alan snuggled in. 

John would usually watch in amusement from across the lounge  as a cuddle pile formed so he could situate himself at the edge where he could be very much a part of it but not get completely crushed. But today something made him want to be right in the middle of it all. He curled next to Scott, feet tucked beneath him, resting his head on Scott’s shoulder, an arm around his big brother. 

Virgil sipped the last of his coffee and surveyed his brothers in their puppy pile. The smiles and laughter was the most welcome sound. He put the mug down and when John reach out an arm, sat down next to him, ruffling Allie’s hair in the way past. He leant over to wrap his arm around John’s and Scott’s shoulders both. 

Gordon flopped onto the pile like a breaching whale then wriggled like the squid he was to fit in the gaps between his brothers. He ended up lying across their laps to many groans and eye rolls, head in Scott’s. Gordon grinned up at his biggest brother, who laughed with all the fondness in the world and pulled him closer. 

Scott loved his brothers with everything and nothing made him happier than being cuddled up in a pile with them all close, warm and joyful, getting slightly squished, just because. 

[willow-salix]

I deserve a treat! Who else does?

You do, do you? How about a gorgeous spaceman chilling out in the library?

Works for me and I'm sure it works for @selene-tempest too.

[forest-falcon]

I wrote this in one go when prepping dinner tonight so it's probably rubbish but I thought I'd post before overthinking it because I have probably six other fictions that I'm still overthinking!

Cold Coffee

As parents of four, nearly five rambunctious boys, Jeff and Lucille could be considered experts in the world of parenting. And if there's one lesson that they could pass on, it would be this; that there are no real experts when it comes to parenting.

As an astronaut and pioneer of the world-famous TV-21, Jeff had sat through many interviews quizzing him on every aspect of astrophysics imaginable. Having answered these questions, it seemed almost mandatory, for each interviewer to conclude in a similar fashion:

"How do you balance family life with your work?"

"Five children? Do you have external help?"

"What type of a parent would you say that you are - Authoritarian? Helicopter?"

"Human." Jeff would answer.

The world seemingly had many opinions on the Tracy family. Some believed they had it easy because... money. Others called out in support of the philanthropist saying Jeff had worked hard for everything he had built. A true underdog story - son of a Kansas wheat farmer now voyaging into uncharted space. However, seemingly nobody made the connection that, just like the rest of the world, they did not have it all figured.

"MUM! MUUUM!" Scott's voice wailed like a klaxon as he skidded into the kitchen.

"Yes Scotty?" Lucille answered, seemingly unperturbed. She continued to stack the family's breakfast dishes in the dishwasher as she spoke.

"I...err...I was trying to be helpful and bring you the dishes but...I knocked over the milk." Scott mumbled, twiddling his fingers.

Lucy grabbed a cloth and the kitchen spray.

"That's okay, can you wipe the spillage off the table for me? I'll be in in a moment. There's only a couple more dishes to-"

"It's gone everywhere! It's over the floor too!" Scott flapped, seemingly excited by the household disaster.

"Is it indeed?" Lucy quirked a bemused eyebrow, and made a show of putting her marigold-clad hand on her hip.

Scott nodded enthusiastically.

"Ok, I'll grab the mop."

Lucy was halfway through with filling the bucket when Scott's voice announced the next Tracy-home catastrophe.

"Ooooh noooo!" The voice came from the other room.

"...What is it Scott?" Lucy responded with a small sigh.

"Gordon's been playing in the milk and has walked it everywhere. It's all over his clothes!"

"FAB"

Lucille kneaded her lower back.

"Come on old girl" she grumbled to herself. At thirty-five, she wasn't old, but today somehow felt the age of the entire household combined.

Scooping up her soggy toddler, she sat him atop her rounded stomach and made for the bathroom. Some days she wondered if Gordon purposefully baptised himself in mess just so he had the excuse for another bath, he loved the water so much.

Scott, being the eldest, made a start on mopping the milk footprints from the dining room and hall. A quick calculation and Lucille decided that the least messy option, and one resulting in the fewest brotherly arguments, would be to have Virgil and John entertain themselves not in the direct vicinity of the breakfast mayhem. Virgil had set himself up at the piano and John parked himself in front of the brand new holoprojector. Sanity somewhat restored, she began showering her toddler.

Keeping the bathroom door open, Lucille listened for any new potential calamity but instead heard the gentle melody of silent night start up from the piano. It was February, but Virgil had been so very proud to be asked to perform the piece at his school's Christmas concert that he still associated the piece with the happiness he felt that day. It brought a smile to Lucy's heart too and she let the gentle sound wash over her as she rinsed the last of the soap suds from Gordon.

Another sound overtook Virgil's music. John had tuned into his favourite programme about space and had obviously increased the volume to combat the sound of the piano. The instrument grew louder in retaliation; silent night becoming more of a relatable night as witnessed by the Tracy household - in a nutshell; loud. In defiance, the holoprojector volume raised once more.

"Boys, turn the volume down!" she called, lifting Gordon from the bath, but her voice was drowned out by the dueling decibels.

"BOYS!" She called again, wrapping a towel around the youngest. The baby within her kicked in protest at the din.

Massaging her temples, she made for the living room and turned the holoprojector off.

"Hey!" John protested.

Virgil abruptly ended his aggressive rendition of anything-but-silent night and sat with a face of utter innocence, as though he hadn't been party to the explosive noise.

"John. Virgil. I. Need. Five. Minutes."

She paused, surveying the cluttered lounge.

"God, I could use a coffee right now." She muttered to herself. One month to go she inwardly sighed.

"Let me help dress your brother, then you're both gonna help me tidy all of...this." she gestured vaguely to her jumble sale of a room.

"I think Gordie's gone and dressed himself!" John sniggered.

Lucy turned to find Gordon sporting a pair of flippers, rubber ring, snorkel mask and one of her summer straw hats...and little else.

"Well kinda." Virgil snorted.

Lucy pinched the bridge of her nose and couldn't help but chuckle herself.

"Nice outfit kiddo, but I think we need something on your lower half."

Gordon gestured to his flippers.

"Come on, I'll help you pick something out."

She rifled through the folded laundry basket that was yet to make the journey upstairs and produced a more suitable outfit for the day.

Moments after she had finished dressing Gordon, Scott reappeared.

"Erm...mum?" he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

Lucy turned to face him with a I-am-desperately- trying-to-be-a-good-parent smile.

"Yes...Scotty?"

"Well, you know you asked me to get the paddling pool out for Gordon?"

"No, when on earth did I say that? I've been bathing your brother."

"Oh… When you were talking with John n Virg, Gordie said you asked if I would get the paddling pool out for him."

Lucille turned to face the smallest mischief maker only to find him hiding behind Virgil.

"Anyway..." Scott continued.

"I accidentally dropped the house key when trying to carry everything." he mumbled.

"I needed it to open the back door and it err...it went down a gap in the decking in the back garden."

"O-kay" Lucy inhaled slowly. Summoning both her physical and mental strength. She followed her eldest to the decking.

"Can you show me where you dropped the key?"

"I'm...not too sure."

"The paddling pool is so big and I couldn't see where the key went exactly."

"Ok, well where were you standing?"

"I... can't remember."

Lucy muttered a word under her breath that she would later reason to her son's teacher that he must have learnt from his school peers.

"I need to take the decking up."

"Can't we just leave it until dad's home? He said he'd be back at lunch today, so anytime now really." Scott reasoned.

"That's the kicker. Dad gave his set of keys to Grandma when we went away. He was relying on us to let him in today."

As if on cue, there was a rap on the door."

Virgil opened the letter box and looked through.

"It's dad!" He called excitedly.

Lucy used the wall to ease herself down and peered through the letterbox.

"We have a situation... The keys fell through the decking in the back. Both the back gate and front door are locked."

"Ah. Maybe a master key wasn't the best idea. No worries. We'll get it back." His eyes smiled.

"I'm gonna try n take the decking up." Lucy announced.

"No. Wait… I have a plan. Make sure nobody is standing by the back gate, ok?" Jeff's profile disappeared from the small window of vision.

"What's the plan? Jeff? Jeff?" she made a guttural sound in the back of her throat then headed back out to the garden.

"Is everyone out of the way?"

"Yes-"

"-Good!"

There was a loud thud against the back gate.

"Oww."

"That was your plan? To try to kick the gate down?" Lucy deadpanned.

"In fairness, those are some mighty good hinges."

Lucy chuckled.

"Hold on..."

There was a scraping sound, followed by some clambering, then Jeff appeared at the top of the fence. Swinging himself over the top, he landed with as much finesse as any comic book superhero ever had.

He straightened and gave Lucy a devilishly smug smile.

"Hi" he said, kissing her on the cheek.

"Hi" she replied, stress melting away almost tangibly.

"So...decking" he said, rolling up the sleeves of his white linen shirt. It was warm and he unbuttoned the top of his shirt.

"I can do it." Lucy said. She wasn't exactly sure why. Maybe, she felt that she wanted to prove herself capable, having felt like she had failed with the boys this morning. Her life was infinitely different from when Jeff and her had studied astrophysics together. She felt the urge to feel good at something again.

"Don't be daft!" Jeff scoffed, nodding towards her eight-months-pregnant form.

"I'm capable." Lucy retorted stubbornly.

Jeff cupped her hands and kissed them.

"I know you are, but just because you can, doesn't mean you should have to. I want to show our boys that asking for help is not weakness, it's a strength." His smile was genuine and warm.

"Mum?" Lucy turned and found all four boys beaming up at her.

"We just wanted to say we love you, so we made you the coffee you wanted and got you some flowers." Scott said, brandishing a bunch of flowers that had been growing in the garden less than half an hour before.

Jeff squeezed her shoulder.

"And sorry about the keys." The eldest boy added.

Lucy pulled Scott in for a hug.

"It's ok Scotty. You were just trying to help. I love you."

Virgil stepped forward, mug in hand.

"I know we're not supposed to use the kettle when you're not there so we used the tap instead." Virgil said, presenting her with a greyish milky concoction with coffee granules floating at the top.

"You said you'd like some coffee."

"Thank you sweetheart." She beamed, accepting simultaneously the best and worst coffee she ever had.

"I'm so lucky to have you boys."

She silently handed the cup over to Jeff and pulled all the boys into a hug.

"Still wanting to pull that decking up yourself?" Jeff quizzed.

"No." Lucy smiled, wiping away happy tears.

"Good."

"So...boys! Who wants to learn how an impact driver works?" Jeff called, returning the mug to his wife.

Lucy watched happily as the boys all chorused and ran to join their father, working together to find the missing key. Absent-mindedly, she took a sip from her mug and blanched.

[squiddokiddo]

–Pumpkin Spice–

-Part 1-

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Pairings: None

Characters: Gordon Tracy • OC: Sea-Squirt Tracy

**Edit** Plot:

It's that time of year again, where the leaves start to turn, the weather's getting a little cooler and the coffee shops add a very popular flavour back on their menu.

A pair of siblings have a mission; to acquire their beloved pumpkin spice, even if it means losing sleep.

I kinda just wrote this on a whim, I hope you enjoy.💛💛

🎃🍂🎃🍂🎃🍂🎃🍂🎃

It was 2am when his alarm went off.

Gordon grumbled and opened his tired eyes, rolling over to switch off the offending wake up call. Oh how he wished he could bury his face back in the blankets and sleep some more but that definitely wasn't an option today, especially if they wanted to be there on time, they had to be on the other side of the world in about an hour or so.

Rubbing his tired eyes, the aquanaut slid out of bed and quietly padded over to his bedroom door where he was greeted by the darkness of the still sleeping island only broken with the soft glow of the hallway's lights.

Making his way down the hallway and towards his sibling's room, he mentally prepared himself for the task that was waking the terror. Hopefully the reward for the stupidly early wake up would encourage the beast to move from it's nest. He silently pushed open the door and wandered over to the snoozing bundle of blankets in the bed.

Gordon perched himself on the edge and gently shook the cosy lump of sleeping child and whispered.

"Squirt? Squirt, it's time to get up."

He received nothing but a grumble in reply.

"Squirt, if we're going to beat the lines you've gotta get up. Come on kiddo."

He lightly shook them again and the blankets moved and wriggled then out popped a very tired eyed Squirt. Gordon gave his sib some space as they sat up and yawned and adjusted to waking world.

"You remember what day it is right?" He asked though he was certain they hadn't forgotten.

Squirt gave him a lopsided sleepy smile as they toppled over into a squid hug.

"Mmmnnnpumpkinnnspiccceee."

🎃🍂🎃🍂🎃🍂🎃🍂🎃

[secret-library-of-tracy-island]

Hilarious and adorable fluff in the universe where the Tracys are very much real but on a film set and also tiny.

Desperate coffee yearning and idiot flyboy stuntman.

Another classic from @gumnut-logic