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tracybirds · 4 months

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Awwww, thank you for all the lovely responses to the first part of this <3 I tried to reply like four times and Tumblr kept eating my responses so I gave up lol but *hugs you all* Again, many thanks to @gumnut-logic for reading through and egging me on! Now it's starting to feel like Christmas!!

[Day 1] | [Day 2 - you are here] | [Day 3]

Five Days Where Christmas Didn't Seem To Go As Planned

Day Two

“What do you mean you’ve never made a gingerbread house?”

Brains didn’t even blink, his unwavering focus honed in on the microscopic computer chip he was building.

“I’m n-not likely to lie about that, Virgil.”

“But, what about Christmas?”

“My family didn’t celebrate Christmas.” Brains glanced up, putting the robotic controls aside. “Besides, baking wasn’t s-something my parents r-really did.”

Virgil sighed. “We made such good houses as kids and they were absolutely drenched in icing because Gordon always tried to grab the piping bag so it exploded. And you had to do it just right, otherwise the walls would all fall in. But I think that was mostly because Scott wasn’t patient enough to let it set long enough and Mom wanted everyone in bed already.”

“Are you sure that you d-don’t want to make a gingerbread house this year?” asked Brains.

“Of course I want to make one!” said Virgil. “Don’t you want to give it a go? Think of it as an engineering challenge.”

“Hmm…” said Brains, reaching into the desk drawer and twirling a pen absent-mindedly. “A storybook house wouldn’t present much of a s..structural challenge, but if we attempted a more m-modern home.”

The pen flew across the tablet as Brains muttered to himself. It wasn’t long before Virgil recognised the shapes that were emerging, and he opened the drafting program and began making edits and suggestions.

They’d done this before, but always it had been with someone’s life at stake as they designed equipment and new materials to assist International Rescue’s mission. Brains’ eyes didn’t usually sparkle as his hand flew across the screen, and Virgil rarely allowed himself a moment to enjoy the process of creation in those more serious designs.

This, he decided, was something he wanted to do more of.

Before long, they had a blueprint.

Tracy Villa, Gingerbread Style.

Virgil grinned.

He couldn’t wait to see it for real.

***

“How’d it end up like this?” asked Virgil, clasping at phantom hair in despair.

Brains rubbed his glasses clean, replacing them with a look of astonishment. “I d-don’t understand, we f-followed the recipe to the letter.”

“To the letter,” repeated Virgil.

Before them lay a poorly constructed gingerbread house, its walls sagging outwards and its second layer resting against the cake stand with an ominous lean. They stared together in silence, eyes following the jagged lines of icing that oozed down the joinery into a brilliant white puddle that might have been snow if it weren’t so… sticky.

“It doesn’t look much like the villa, does it?” said Virgil glumly.

Brains shook his head.

“M-maybe it will look better with some d-decoration.”

“What do we have to lose?” asked Virgil, leaning forward. He popped a peppermint swirl in his mouth, sucking hard as he considered their next step. “At least the roof over that first floor will look fantastic,” he mumbled around the sweet. “It looks like real glass.”

Brains ducked his head with a slight smile, clearly pleased with the praise. “That was a good program, wasn’t it? M-MAX did all the hard work of c-course, but sugar’s s-such a d-delicate ingredient.”

“You did great,” said Virgil. “Candy?” he asked, offering the bowl.

“We’ll run out if you’re not c-careful,” warned Brains, but he picked out a gumdrop all the same. “What do we have left while that sets?”

“I’ve got the jelly for the pool in the fridge already,” said Virgil, consulting their carefully drawn schematics. “I think it’s just the walls, the second roof, and the landscaping.”

“Well then, let’s go before another c-call interrupts us.”

“Once was enough,” agreed Virgil.

They worked steadily, each determined to bring their shared vision to life.

Peppermints and chocolates and gumdrops and more. Their real home was all sleek lines and sharp angles, but Virgil didn’t think it mattered much if the candy looked out of place, not when the rest of the family was sure to decimate the result as soon as they were given the word.

He sneaked a couple of M&M's from the pile and grinned. Chances were the house would be eaten long before Christmas Day anyway.

Virgil reached as one for a candy cane, his hand scrabbling for that final touch of decoration to pull the design together, and startled as he brushed against warm skin instead.

Brains looked up. “I need that,” he said firmly, taking the last stick and pressing it carefully onto the side of the roof piece.

“Hey,” said Virgil, “I also needed that!”

Brains only looked at him, then pointedly stared at the candy cane in his hand, sharpened to a point. “You already t-took your piece.”

Virgil glanced down and then grinned at him. “I probably should stop eating the decorations, huh? I figured that without Gordon and Alan working, we wouldn’t need the extras.”

“G-good engineering always accounts for mishaps,” said Brains. “Isn’t that the most b-basic rule – humans make mistakes?” He pulled out a second bowl from the pantry and passed it across the table. “F-fortunately, I know you’re as bad as your brothers.”

“I’m not as bad as them.”

“You are,” said Brains. He prodded the edges of the gingerbread villa, watching for any movement that would indicate instability. “You’re also the expert here, is this ready f-for the roof?”

“It’s been a couple of hours, right?” asked Virgil, jostling the base. He shrugged. “Looks alright to me.”

Brains exhaled slowly, eyes darting between the decorating station and the cooled roof pieces, dappled with air bubbles and shining in the kitchen lights. The wooden slats were made of chocolate, piped with a steady hand before cooling, and the angles had been measured to precision.

“Gloves,” he said succinctly, placing a pair in Virgil’s hands.

Virgil didn’t argue, knowing that this was the moment that would make or break their design – literally.

They lifted the base, each holding their breath as the structure wobbled, knees bent and frozen as though they’d be able to save it if it fell.

The walls held.

Slowly, slowly they brought the villa across the room to the counter where the sugar glass roofs rested.

“On three, we lower,” murmured Virgil, and Brains nodded slowly in agreement.

“One, two, three.”

They stepped away quickly, not wanting to disturb the construction any more than necessary.

Brains looked it over with narrowed eyes. “This isn’t as s..structurally s-sound as I’d hoped. Maybe we used the wrong butter? The m-material impact between unsalted vs salted could be greater than we r-realised.”

“Maybe next year we could run tests on the guiding chemical principles of baked gingerbread,” said Virgil. “But it’s holding up pretty well. We made houses a quarter of this size that couldn’t support their own weight.”

“Yes, as children,” muttered Brains.

Virgil ignored him. “I’ll hold the roof steady, you ice it in place,” he said. “We’ll start at the front so that any overhang is at the back.”

He carefully eased his fingers beneath the fragile roof, waiting for Brains’ command.

“R-ready!”

In one fluid motion, he lifted the roof and lined up the front edges, holding it steady as Brains iced and smoothed and iced and smoothed.

“Oh n-n-no.”

Virgil froze, taking stock. The roof hadn’t shattered, the walls were still upright, they’d been about to meet with triumph only…

“The roof’s too s..small,” said Brains, his gloved fingers running sadly in the gap between the side walls and the roof. “How d-did that happen? We m-m-measured three t-times before baking!”

Virgil dropped his head with a groan.

“We’re idiots, that’s how,” he said. “We measured before baking and didn’t do any tests to account for the dough growth.”

Brains frowned at the error, as though it would spontaneously fix itself if only he glared hard enough, and swore.

“An undergrad knows b-better than that,” he said crossly. “We’re b-both b-b-better than that.”

“Well, either we come up with a solution quickly, or we break the roof,” said Virgil. “I can’t stand here holding it forever until Christmas.”

As if on cue, the siren rang out and Virgil groaned. “I can’t stay, Brains, I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” said Brains. “Of c-course you c-can’t, it’s just a...”

He trailed off looking glum.

Virgil shot him a brief smile. “I know,” he said. “This was fun.”

He looked down and took a deep breath.

“You were magnificent while you lasted,” said Virgil with no small amount of sorrow, then he dropped the roof and ran.

Brains flinched at the resulting crack, the tinkle of small sugar pieces echoing in the room.

“I g-guess we’ll simply have to try again,” he said to himself. “I suppose it was too much to hope that the prototype would be our f-final design.”

[Continue to Day Three]

#virgil tracy #brains #thunderbirds are go #sometimes i fic #blegh i have to do vacuuming bc people #off I go xD #fanfic 🥰#virgil 💚#brains 🤎#2015 #🎄🎄🎄#fluff

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sunshinediaz · 5 months

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fuck it friday 🎄

hi, teehee

this is from something that's gathering dust in my wip folder even though it's fully plotted out and ready to be written, smh. maybe after hoa and my christmas fics i'll return to it? who knows, lol

Buck’s hands run up the backs of Eddie’s thighs, hooking beneath his legs and lifting his knees to his chest so he’s spread wide open. It’s vulnerable, being bare and on display, and maybe Eddie should be ashamed at how lewd of a position he’s in lying in his childhood room, legs sprawled so Buck can see him, but he’s never felt more sexy or powerful or wanted than he does right now. “Hey, hey.” He reaches down, petting a hand over Buck’s jaw. “You gotta be gentle with me, Buck. I don’t—I can’t—” “S’okay,” Buck interrupts, shifting forward so his shoulders push Eddie’s knees further against his chest, constricting his breathing. He likes it. “‘M gonna take care of you.” Eddie’s lips part. “Yeah?” He presses the pad of this thumb against Buck’s bottom lip, jolting sharply when Buck sucks his finger into his mouth. Buck nods, big-eyed and red-cheeked, looking every bit as debauched as Eddie feels. He presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead, something almost too sweet for the position they’re in, and moves back down. Instinctively, Eddie curls his hands behind his knees and keeps himself held open for Buck to see. Buck hums and rubs his cheek against Eddie’s prick. The tip smears precum all in Buck’s hair; Eddie’s delighted, dark and proprietorial, because nobody else is going to have Buck like this ever again. He’s going to make sure of it. “Good, baby.” Buck smiles and grips the hilt of Eddie’s cock, leaning down to lick his tongue into the slit and around the head before blowing air gently over the tip, eliciting a gasp and full-bodied shiver from Eddie. His smile grows and he kisses the inside of Eddie’s thigh. “Keep yourself open for me, okay? I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

tagged by @daffi-990, @jamespearce9-1-1, @thewolvesof1998, @hippolotamus, @theotherbuckley, @jeeyuns, and @wikiangela mwah

tagging @eddiebabygirldiaz, @spagheddiediaz, @callmenewbie, @loserdiaz, @watchyourbuck, @devirnis, @daffi-990, @jesuisici33, @ladydorian05, and @monsterrae1 if any of you wanna share <3

#this was the very first thing i wrote when i officially decided to start writing buddie lolol #it's a chaptered fic where ramon's dying and eddie deals with it + BUCK and the rest of his family #it's genuinely sweet and i think. mm perhaps i can work on it soon?#(also i already shared this but im doing so again because the only thing i have that’s NOT be shared #is the christmas fics and uhh those are secrets till they’re posted)#🎄🎄🎄#tag games

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nahoney22 · 4 months

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Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and/or Happy Holidays 🤍🎄✨

#merry christmas #happy holidays #🎄🎄🎄

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uhohsstuff · 3 months

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Love his Christmas costume 🤗🎄

JK HE IS SO CUTE I LOVE HIM SO MUCHHHH

#muppet #muppets #the muppets #muppet show #it’s a very merry muppet Christmas #muppets Scooter #MYYY BOIII #christmas 🎄#🎄#🎄🎄🎄

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kmp78 · 5 months

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Christmas greets from Vilnius! 👋🇱🇹🎄

A couple of seasonal snaps from the trip before we return to usual programming. 😊

#vilnius #christmas #🎄🎄🎄#lithuania

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getawayfox · 4 months

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Oh, cuuute! Thank you @lettersbyelise for the tag!🥰

Help me decorate my tree 🎄

No pressure tag for @stavromulabetaaa @wolfpants @ghaniblue @kittycargo @rockingrobin69 @sweet-s0rr0w or anyone else!

#decorate my tree #happy holidays #🎄🎄🎄

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everythingmaxriemelt · 4 months

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Lovely to wake up and finding Max alive and well 😂 he will be a guest on Radio Eins at 12:35pm ❤️

Season’s greetings 🎄

Bonus: a finger licking delicious Max 👇

#max riemelt #finally!!!#hope he will have some new projects news #merry christmas #🎄🎄🎄

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athenepromachos · 1 year

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A Christmas Tree Sherlock for December 1st 🎄♥️😁

#henry cavill #sherlock holmes #sherlock #want him under my tree #🎄🎄🎄#i.d jingle his bells #sherlock bde #cavill bde #🍌🦑🍌🦑🍌🦑🍌🦑🍌🦑🍌🦑

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tracybirds · 4 months

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I love Christmas time, and I am writing allllll the fic for it :D Here be the start of the main thing I've been working on! Many thanks to @gumnut-logic for reading through! I hope you're all having a very happy end to your year with love and laughter and good cheer <3

[Day 1 - you are here] | [Day 2] | [Day 3]

Five Days Where Christmas Didn't Seem To Go As Planned

Day One

The villa had been in a state of disarray for weeks in the lead up to Christmas. Rescues didn’t stop for any holiday, and with half the world flocking to ski resorts and snowboarding towns, International Rescue had been kept busy.

Scott hardly minded though, not that now the Christmas decorations were finally up. He checked the date on his comm and smiled. With record time to enjoy it too, it would seem.

Festive streamers hung from the ceiling; red, white and green, matching the candy canes and other sweet treats Gordon had scattered around the room. Scott could even see a few tell-tale stripes of peppermint added to the Christmas tree that Kayo and Alan had chosen. Reportedly, they’d fussed and argued for over three hours over the height, the bushiness and finding that perfect shade of green.

Scott was only grateful that John had called him away moments before the family left the island to make the big decision.

Tinsel and matching ornaments hung on its branches, that Virgil had arranged and rearranged by until the perfect balance between eye-catching sparkle and soft greenery had been found.

Along the walls were Brains and John’s contribution; flickering holograms of stars, trees, bursts of holly, reindeer – a projection of a perfect Christmas scene straight out of a storybook. Scott couldn’t help but grin to see a new style of hologram had joined them. It was EOS’s first attempt and although clumsy in comparison, the geometric patterns she’d coded and brought to life held a joy of her very own.

Central to the design were the Christmas stockings, neatly attached to the fire well. Even Lady Penelope and Parker had one, ready and waiting for Christmas morning when they would join the family.

The decorations brought a warm glow that enveloped the villa, and Scott stepped back, surveying the living room with a critical eye.

“It looks great, Scott,” said Jeff, looking almost as pleased as Scott felt. “Much nicer than the chicken scratch I had to make do with out there.”

Scott felt his smile grow fixed, the air catching in his lungs at Jeff’s offhand mention of his long ordeal in space. For the first few months, no-one had dared reference the Oort Cloud at all, tiptoeing around the subject until Jeff had put his foot down. Despite the nonchalance, Scott had noticed his father was reluctant to speak of the place directly and he couldn’t help but imagine the endless dark that had accompanied Jeff.

“Thanks, Dad,” he said, forcing himself to speak. “I... well, thanks.”

Jeff looked at him closely.

“You did a good job,” he said slowly. “You’ve done a good job…”

He trailed off, as he often did nowadays, his eyes sliding off Scott and far away. Scott followed his gaze to the window, out beyond the watery pool lights and into the night.

Jeff shook himself slightly, his eyes refocused on the room in front of him again. “Sorry, Scott, got lost in my own head again,” he said. His brusque tone dismissed any attempt of concern, but did nothing to ease the turbulence in Scott’s own mind.

Jeff turned abruptly, and began to stride out of the room. He paused only once, his fingers resting lightly on the string of Christmas lights near the door.

“Do you remember those lights from when you were small? How strange that even Christmas lights are completely different.”

Then he left before Scott could say a word.

Scott gaped, his mind racing.

It seemed no matter how fast he turned things over in his mind, it wasn’t enough, his thoughts kept getting swallowed by the inky black that nearly swallowed him if it hadn’t been for his dad, and no-one was there to catch his dad for all those eight years, but Scott could do this now for him.

He didn’t really remember putting through the call to John but something must have convinced him because a few short minutes later he was flying over the Pacific.

The trip to the ranch and back went smoothly, and an hour later, Scott held his prize in his hands. He lugged the old box back up to the living room, smiling at the imperfect crafts that had served as their family Christmas decorations of yesteryear.

The pine cones dipped in silver and gold he placed in a bowl in the centre of the coffee table, the reindeer made of clothes pegs he propped up around them. There were paper snowflakes and popcorn kernels in a jar with some needles and thread, there was colourful card for the annual paper chain competition, there were woollen ornaments that Scott could remember his mother making with her friends on the cold, dark winter nights when Jeff was travelling to a new world. There was even an old Advent calendar in the shape of a tree that their Grandpa had made, numbers carved by hand into each wooden box.

And right at the bottom, wrapped up in a neat coil were the Christmas lights they’d hung over the fireplace.

A whiff of stale cinnamon and pine floated from the box and Scott staggered slightly, for a moment six years old on the other side of the globe. The lights were soft and warm, the long bulbs twisting over each other and twinkling brightly in the night. The long December nights were no more, not in this part of the world, but Scott still remembered how endless it felt, how the sharp, cold of daytime was never enough to push back the darkness.

It was nothing next to the endless nothing of the universe, but the Christmas lights had helped, and Scott knew that they’d help now. He found an old extension cord, scrabbling behind the sofas for the nearest power point and plugged them in.

Nothing happened.

Scott’s face fell.

Of course, the box had been jostled so often over the years, of course one of the bulbs had fallen out of alignment.

He sat down with a sigh, his back against his father’s desk, and began to check for loose bulbs.

“Now those, I haven’t seen in a long while,” said Grandma Tracy quietly, and Scott jumped.

“Grandma!”

“Oh hush, you’re halfway under Jeff’s desk. I can’t help sneaking up if you’re the one hiding.”

“I’m not hiding,” said Scott defensively.

“Then what are you doing, kid? And where’d you find these old things anyway?”

“At the ranch.”

Grandma Tracy paused for a moment, then slid to the ground next to him. Without a word, she untangled the other end of the coil and began to methodically check the lights with him.

“You’d better hope that’s all it is, a loose bulb,” she said. “If one’s blown, I’m not sure they make this kind anymore. It’s all LEDs and the like these days.”

“We’d make it work. Brains could solder the ends of something.”

“Hmm,” was all she said.

Together they worked in silence, one step closer with every twist.

“What made you go and get these, Scott?”

He shrugged. “Dad liked the decorations.”

“He didn’t like the new ones?”

“No, no he said it looked good.”

“He liked what you had, so you had to race off to get the old ones? We all noticed One dashing off, and you’re saying it was just for these old things? Tell me why that doesn’t add up, kid.”

Scott flushed. “There wasn’t any reason, I just wondered if we had more lights.”

“That’s a reason. Why’d you think we need more lights?”

His hands stilled.

“Dad mentioned the Oort,” he said, bracing himself for her response.

Grandma Tracy looked at him, her eyes searching for something in his expression. Scott didn’t know what, indeed hardly recognised the flash that was less than fear and more than mere concern that shot through him when he remember those long dark years without their Dad.

“I see,” she said. “Did he say anything else?”

She was cautious now, not willing to initiate discussion on anything his dad might have kept confidential, and Scott understood that, he did, he did, and yet…

“He won’t talk to me about it,” he said, the words dull in his mouth. “He doesn’t trust me, I know that.”

Grandma Tracy clucked her tongue and reached out to gently smack him. “Get that thought right out of your head, Scott Tracy. Your father’s done his best to keep that boundary in place for a reason. He’s not fool enough to rely on you for this, not after what happened when your mother died.”

Scott ducked his head, suddenly very interested in the lights that ran through his fingertips. He felt just as helpless as he did all those years ago, that first, long Christmas without their Dad.

“I just wanted to push the dark away. I keep imagining it, all those years without the sun…”

He broke off with a shudder, wrapping his arms around him tightly.

Grandma Tracy tugged him close, rubbing soothing circles as she held him.

“Now, Scott, don’t go inventing trouble when you’ve already got plenty of your own,” she said softly. “You’re going to have to trust me, and your father for that matter. We’ve got things handled.”

“But,” he began, but she shook her head.

“No ‘buts’, this one isn’t on you, kiddo. Your only job is to enjoy that we got our own Christmas miracle this year. He’s home, and he’s not going anywhere for a long while yet.”

Scott let out a slow, even breath. His hands uncurled, and he reached once more for the Christmas lights.

“He’s really here, isn’t he?” he asked, eyes on the bulbs.

Suddenly, the whole string lit up, red and yellow and blue and green, glowing orbs that trembled as he lifted the lights with a smile.

Grandma Tracy gripped his shoulder tightly, her eyes shining in the dancing light.

“He really is.”

[Continue to Day Two]

#scott tracy #jeff tracy #grandma tracy #thunderbirds are go #sometimes i fic #i have debated back and forth about posting bc the fic is not exactly.... finished lol #but it's not far off and I'm excited for it #so I am sharing <3 #fanfic 🥰#scott 💙#grandma 💜#jeff 🚀#thunderbirds #collected works (mine)#🎄🎄🎄#family feels #2015

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