#think along the lines of a muppet family christmas special

[asdeadasasquirrel]

A Lego Star Wars Family Holiday is a holiday special I would personally make just for me

🎄✨ Merry Christmas to all who celebrate ✨🎄

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Merry Little Christmas

Druig x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Prompt: @the-sunflower-room “can’t stop thinking about druig and have yourself a merry little christmas- so cozy 😭🙏🏻”

Note: This was actually requested last year, I believe, but I’ve always wanted to write it. I’m sorry it took me so long to get around to it, but I hope you like it! Happy Holidays, everyone <3

Warnings: None! Just cozy Christmas celebrations <3

Word Count: 1.6k words

Reader Is: Gender Neutral!

Druig was never one for holidays. He wasn’t a scrooge, per se, but, as an Eternal, the seasons came and went so quickly. Years were mere blinks to a being who was thousands of years old. However, the look on your face as you put the ornaments on the tree made something stir around his heart, he had to admit.

He was sipping cocoa from a mug with a snowman on it, one from your vast collection. Kingo was in the kitchen, mixing up beverages, which was why he sensed a bit of liquor in the chocolatey beverage. It was still good, obviously, but he definitely blamed that for the rosy hue his cheeks had taken on.

Definitely not the cute little reindeer antlers you were wearing. Definitely not the way your laughter sounded from across the room.

All of the Eternals were there. A rare feat, but with the danger defeated, for now at least, it was cause for celebration, a time to be with family. It was your house you were all celebrating in, a large place tucked away in Northern Michigan, which, at this time of year, was absolutely covered in a thick layer of snow, more and more fluffy flakes coming down as the moments passed.

You spent your time as a writer. One of the most prolific of your time, the reviews said. But then again, you did have a thousand year head start on the rest of them.

Druig would never admit to it, but he had read them. All of them, every single one. He’d borrow them from libraries, read excerpts in bookstores, but Makkari had a collection of them, too. She was your most loyal beta reader. Therefore, when one went missing, she always had a pretty decent suspicion of who the culprit was.

And he wasn’t positive, but he was pretty sure most of your love interests shared a certain resemblance with…well, him. He didn’t like the way it stirred around in his chest, the way it made him feel so warm and…hopeful. But then again, he’d never asked you what you felt.

“(Y/N), where are your Christmas records?” Phastos asked, standing over with his husband, Ben, as they dug through a crate of records.

“Oh! I forgot to bring them down, I think. I’ll go grab them. I needed to get the topper anyway.” You stepped down from your stepladder and handed the ornament in your hand to Sprite, who was sitting on the floor under the tree, shaking gifts. Typical.

Druig watched as you left, eyes glued to you. Which was why he didn’t notice when Sersi had joined him, standing right beside him.

He gasped, mug rattled, but not to the point that he spilled any on his sweater. He cursed and looked over at her. “What?”

“You look rather festive, Druig. I thought you didn’t care for holidays.”

“I thought so too…” He muttered into his mug, taking a long sip.

“Right. Well, I think I saw some mistletoe in that box of decorations. I can put it up if you’d like?” She asked, that glimmer in her eyes that she got when she wanted to meddle.

Druig thought on it, as he heard your footsteps coming back down the stairs. He met her eyes and that was all that was needed. She nodded and set across the room, plucking it out of the box, along with a length of fishing line.

“I found it! The Muppets and John Denver!” You said excitedly, presenting another crate of records, this one all Christmas. “And some other stuff.”

“May I?” Phastos asked.

“Yeah, of course.” You handed them over and walked back over to the tub of ornaments, searching for a very special one. It was a large mug of cocoa with eleven marshmallows in it, each one etched with the name of an Eternal. You smiled softly and tucked it into the branches of your artificial tree, curling the fake pine to support its weight.

“Where did you find one with so many slots?” Druig found himself asking as he crossed the room to stand behind you.

“Had it custom made.” You replied, turning to face him.

“It’s beautiful, (Y/N).” Ajak complimented warmly from her seat by the fire.

“Thanks. Thought we needed something like that.”

“What are these?” Sprite asked, digging through the other box and pulling out a stocking with Thena’s name embroidered on it.

“Stockings.”

“You had those made, too?” Ajak asked, getting up to see for herself.

“Well, I did them. The embroidery, at least.” You admitted with a shrug, motioning to the hooks under the mantle. “We can put them up, if you want.”

Makkari nodded and grabbed the stockings, putting them all in one clean row in a blur of red and green. She stood next to Druig, elbowing him and tilting her head towards his stocking, which she’d put on the end.

Right next to yours.

He nearly choked on his cocoa. So did everyone know, then? Sersi, Makkari, who else? Kingo, no doubt.

“You alright there, Druig? Looking flushed.” Ikaris jabbed, that wicked gleam in his eyes.

Alright, then, yeah, it was everyone. Everyone but you, it seemed.

It was as if a stormcloud manifested above his head. He shook his head and stalked off towards the kitchen. He didn’t know much, but he did know a cookie would make him feel better. Snacks always seemed to. And there was no shortage of them, especially now, when you and Gilgamesh had baked nearly twelve dozen batches of them. Gingerbread, snickerdoodle, sugar cookies shaped like trees, chocolate chip, oatmeal no-bakes.

He reached for a sprinkle-covered tree and bit off the tip of it, the frosting sweet. The oven started beeping and you rushed in, arming yourself with an oven mitt before reaching in for what he assumed must be one of the last trays. Oatmeal raisin, it looked like.

“Do you need any help?” He asked, staring as you straightened up and brushed the hair out of your face.

“Oh! Thank you, Druig. I’m all set, though. Are they good?”

“Are what—” He looked down at the half-eaten tree in his hand. “Oh, yeah. They’re great.”

“Awesome.” You grinned. “New frosting recipe.”

“Well it’s perfect, whatever it is.” He leaned against the counter, that boyish smirk on his face. He wasn’t sure what came over him, then, but he had to get it out. “It’s great, by the way. That new book of yours.”

“You read it?”

“I read all of your books.” He confessed. “I think this one’s your best.”

Your heart raced as you met his eyes. Surely he knew, right? He had to. That you’d been writing about him for centuries. When he’d left all those years ago, hundreds of years ago, he’d taken a piece of your heart with him, a piece you’d only found in fiction, it seemed.

“Thank you. It…it means a lot to hear you say that.”

“Can’t wait for your next one.” He winked, plucking up a second cookie and leaving the kitchen before his tongue got him in any more trouble than it already had.

***

Later in the night, when almost everyone had gone to sleep, you were up, wrapping presents in front of the fireplace, folding the paper neatly, complete with name tags and perfect little bows.

You’d switched records. It was an older one, the Rat Pack.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas…Let your heart be light…

The words were smooth, glided right out of the speaker. Snow was still coming down in droves. It was good you had nowhere to go, otherwise you’d be snowed in. Well, if your family didn’t have every superpower known to man, you would be anyway. You were glad they were there.

You were glad they were home.

“Can’t sleep?” Druig’s voice startled you from your reverie and you turned around, grateful his present was already wrapped and under the tree.

“Not until I get these wrapped.” You told him.

“Christ, you really do go all out, don’t you?” He chuckled, crossing the room and sitting on the floor beside you, yet another cookie in his hand.

“I think I’d lose my mind if I didn’t. Keeps me…in synch. The routine of a year, you know?”

“Mmm.” He hummed, nodding, face alight in the warm oranges of the flames. “I didn’t see it that way until…recently.”

“Until right now?”

“Yeah, something like that.” He chuckled, watching as you carefully wrapped the last one, taping every edge perfectly and putting a tag on top, printing Sprite’s name with a pen. “What’d you get her?”

“You’ll have to find out tomorrow morning.” You told him, shifting to slide it under the tree with the others. “What did you get her?”

“It’s a surprise.” He grinned as you settled in next to him.

“Is it a surprise to you, too?”

He gasped, offended. “I got presents for everyone!”

“I believe you.”

“Sure you do.” He shook his head, laughing softly. “Say, ehm, (Y/N), I’ve been wondering…”

“Mistletoe!” You gasped, staring straight up at the ceiling where, sure enough, a string of mistletoe hung, glittering in the low light. “Who put that up?”

“Well I’ll be…” He breathed, staring up at it, too, heart racing faster than it had in any battle. “What…do you suppose we do about that?”

“I have a few ideas.” You slowly brought your gaze down, meeting his eyes.

He may have been the telepath, but you could tell the only thing on his mind was you as he leaned in, thick eyelashes fluttering shut as his lips met yours, pink and plush and warm. You kissed back, not leaving a single doubt in his mind that you wanted this, wanted him. Your hand rose to his flushed cheek, holding him close as his arm wound around your waist.

The grandfather clock struck midnight, and he pulled away to rest his forehead on yours, noses flush, eyes on you, glimmering with a million words unspoken. He did have a few, though. “Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

“Merry Christmas, Druig.”

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

A Muppet Family Christmas

Day 13 of 2018′s 31 Days of Christmas.  Note: new for 2020.  Credited as 2018 for organizational purposes, & back-filling the prompt.

Thanks to @doctorroseprompts for the prompt list!

Prompt: Holiday movies

Rating: T (sexual themes, alcohol)

Pairing: TenxRose (AU)

Summary: Despite being mid-January James and Rose have a Christmas-movie watching date, and open up about old grief amidst being childish with the Muppets and Mario Kart.  Part of the Cosier With You ‘verse.

2018 31 Days of Ficmas Masterlist  |  Cosier With You ‘Verse

AO3

---

With a final swipe of gloss across her lips, Rose returned the lipstick to her purse, fluffed her hair, and knocked on the door.

“It’s open!”

Pushing the door open, she grinned at the sight that greeted her.  Hair still obviously wet from the shower, her boyfriend of three weeks (and counting!) stood on the far side of his kitchen island, preoccupied with a popcorn popper that was spitting out perfectly popped corn.  “Hey!” he greeted her warmly, as she dumped her stuff and came around to his side.  “Missed you.”

“I saw you this morning,” she laughed, kissing him hello. “Mm, you taste like butter.”

“I had to make sure it was good,” James shrugged, gesturing to the half-full bowl catching the freshly popped corn.  “Only the best for you.  And yes, but we were at your place of work, surrounded by people.  I much prefer when we’re alone.”

“So do I.”  Wrapping her arms around his waist, she rested her head on his bicep.  “Remind me why we’re watching Christmas movies in mid-January?”

James eased out of her arms as the popper wound down, dumping the last of the kernels into the bowl before switching the machine off. “Because I don’t want to wait a year to curl up with you and popcorn and watch cheesy Christmas-themed movies with you.” He nodded towards a bottle of white wine and two glasses on the counter, still chilled from the fridge, waiting for Rose to grab them before guiding her to the couch, which was already prepared for the evening.

Two soft, fleece-lined blankets stood at the ready, along with the pillows from his bed.  A stack of DVDs sat on the coffee table, two drink coasters optimally positioned, and to complete the Christmas-y vibe, all the decorations, including the tree, were still up.

“So, for future reference, do you typically leave the tree up this long?” she asked, plopping down roughly in the middle of the couch and pulling out the pre-popped cork.  “‘Cause I’ve gotta be honest, mine’s been down since the third, and this might be a sticking point in the future.”

He laughed, settling next to her and reaching for his glass.  “No, but… I’m not ready to take it down yet, this year.  I’m afraid…”

“What?”  She took her own glass, leaning back into the cushions and giving him her full attention.

“I’m afraid that this- what we have- is a function of Christmas magic, and if I remove the decorations…” he trailed off, ears flushing. “Point is, I’m not taking any chances on this.”

Rose grinned, blushing herself, and wiggled closer.  “I’m not going to disappear if you take your tree down,” she promised.  “And I’m mostly teasing you – it’s sort of nice, it still being up.  Not sure I’d say the same if I was living- with one still up,” she faltered, and they shared a smile at what was unsaid- “but… yeah. I wouldn’t want to jinx us either. I’ve been wanting this for so long.”

“Me too.”  He leaned forward, and they met in the middle in a kiss that tasted of salt from the popcorn, tart from the wine, and sweet from what she was learning was just him.  “Mhmm, you’re too tempting,” he accused without heat when he pulled back for breath.  “This isn’t why I asked you over.”

“All right, all right,” she resettled herself with a laugh.  “Fine, we can Netflix then Chill, if that’s what you really want.”

His ears and neck turned a delightful shade of scarlet, and he all but lunged for the stack of DVDs, voice squeaking as he said, “So!  What shall we start with?”

Leaning in again she rested her cheek against his shoulder as they shuffled through the selection, and it took everything she had not to scoff at the final option, managing a neutral tone to say, “A Muppet Family Christmas?”

James stilled beside her, and she was glad she hadn’t laughed when a distant expression flashed across his face. “It was my dad’s favorite Christmas movie,” he said, hesitantly.  “Mum hated it, but tolerated it when we were old enough to watch it.  It became our thing, me Donna and Dad’s.  She and I still watch it together every year.”

“Oh.”  Rose tried to marshal her thoughts, recognizing that he was letting her in on something special, wondering distantly if it was some sort of test.  “I’ve never actually seen it.”

“Really?”

She nodded.  “Slightly before my time.  I know who the Muppets are, of course, saw the Christmas Carol one, but… not this.”

He was silent for a moment, picking at the corner of the box.  “D’you wanna?”

“Yes.”  She surprised them both with the strength of her response, based on how James’ head flew up to blink at her.  “Sounds like this might be the closest I get to meeting your Dad, so- let’s do it.”

His blinding smile told her it was absolutely the right answer.

-

By the end of the movie they were snuggled together, singing along at the top of their lungs to the final song, even as it trailed off to the credits.

“-And a happy new year!” they finished, before breaking into peals of laughter.

“Oh, I loved it,” Rose proclaimed, wiping tears of merriment from her eyes.  “I can’t believe I’ve never seen that – it’s adorable!”

Beside her, James made a happy noise, pressing his face into her bicep.  “Really?”

Wriggling around, Rose waited until she could meet his eye to respond.  “Really,” she said firmly.  “There’s something special about it.  And more importantly, it’s special to you.  So it’s special to me.  Thank you for sharing this bit of yourself with me.”  No words could express how honored she felt, that he was comfortable sharing something so personal with her.  It made her a little wistful for her own father; while both men were gone, James had at least grown up with his father, known him in person- Rose had been a baby when Pete died.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”  James’ concerned tone dragged her out of the spiral of her thoughts, and she looked up at him when he brushed at her cheek.  “You’re crying.”

She bit her lip.  “I was just thinking about my own dad,” she said truthfully.  “I’d give anything to share something like this with him.  Or, anything, really.  I was six months when he- when we lost him.  I mean, on bank holidays Mum and I watch old Cliff Richards movies, but… it’s not quite the same as this.”

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to bring up a… a sad memory for you.”  His soulful chocolate eyes felt like they could see into her very heart, and she pushed down the ever-present but background grief.

“It’s okay.  Sometimes it hits me in the weirdest moments.  And I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to meet your Dad – he sounds wonderful, based on your stories.”  Then she bolted upright, as a memory surfaced.  “Holy shit – I think I did meet your dad!  Three Christmases ago, the first couple months you were coming in – we didn’t have much of a relationship then, but I still clocked you every time, ‘cause you’re so bloody cute, and I remember you came in a few days before Christmas with an older man!  You’d been out shopping, and blimey, he looked just like you!”

James was silent for a long moment, before exhaling.  “Blimey, I think you’re right.  I’d forgotten – I was sweet on your even then, and I think he noticed, ‘cause he kept teasing me.  I never took him back, for fear of him embarrassing me.  But… yeah, there you go.  You did meet him.  And he liked you, much as he could in thirty seconds.  Kept egging me to ask you out, and I brushed him off.  If only I’d listened to him…”

They sat with that, imaging what could have been, before Rose clapped her hands.  “No, we are not going down that rabbit hole.  Let’s be grateful that we got there, and we’re here now.  Trust me, I spent my entire life pretending not to notice how my mum had one foot stuck in the could-have-beens.  Better not to start down that path.”  She reached for the bottle of wine, but it was empty.  “What d’you say we go do some stargazing?”

“Or…” he drawled, raising an eyebrow, “we could continue on our childish theme and play Mario Kart.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!”

-

By the third race their maudlin musings had been all but forgotten, as they battled it out for first place with taunts and good-natured ribbing, giving no quarter and playing as though their lives depended on it – complete with over-dramatic victory dances and cheering.

“Oh, come on!” James protested, as Rose eked out a second win by a breath.  “You’re cheating!”

“Am not,” she denied, settling back on the couch after a final celebratory kick.  “Novice, remember?  Beginner’s luck?”

He grumbled, turning to look at her.  “Care to make it more interesting?”

“How so?”

“Winner takes a shot, loser loses an item of clothing?”

Rose laughed, shaking her head.  “You want to turn strip-racing into a drinking game?”  Leaning back, she considered her outfit and his, then the empty bottle of wine.  “What d’you got for shots?”

A rifle through the fridge produced a cold bottle of peppermint schnapps, “In keeping with the Christmas theme,” he declared, setting it on the coffee table along with two shot glasses.  “Hope you’re thirsty.”

Shaking her head, Rose folded her legs beneath her.  “You do know I’m a sure thing, right?” she teased, choosing the next track in the game.  “You don’t need to get me drunk, or strip to get me interested.”

“Someone’s confident in themself, aren’t they?” he leered. “Better watch out – who knows what the promise of getting you in your knickers will do to my ability in the game?”

“Not a thing,” she shot back, catching her tongue between her teeth.  “Because there’s no where you’re getting me in my knickers.”  She started the race, laughing at his outraged yelp.

“We’ll see.”

The light turned green and they took off, and Rose waited until they were near the end and he was slightly ahead to say, “I’d have to be wearing knickers for you to see me in them.”  As predicted he startled, going so far as to drop his controller, and with a laugh, she sped across the finish line for her third win in a row.  As her character (Princess Peach, natch) was crowned, she turned to watch him splutter, eyes wide.

Finally, he just pointed, making a wheezing sound.  “You…”

She took her shot first, nearly coughing at the overwhelming peppermint flavor, before turning her whole body to him.  “Strip, loser,” she ordered with a smirk.  “And, in case you don’t believe me…”  Brave off the half-bottle of wine and the shot, she lifted her leg to splay it along the back of the sofa, confirming for him that she wasn’t wearing anything beneath her skirt.  Laughing at the awestruck look on his face she returned to facing the telly, tucking her knees primly together.  “I held up my end of the bargain…”

Coming back to life, he shook his head in disgust.  “You’re not playing fair.”  He whipped his shirt off, revealing his lovely muscular chest, and her knees squeezed together just a bit tighter.

“Well, lose quicker then, so we can go to bed.”

-

He didn’t win a single race after that, but an hour later, flat on his back on his living room floor wearing only a single sock, with a sticky and sweaty Rose collapsed on his chest, he couldn’t be bothered to care.

“I love Christmas.”

[kolbisneat]

MONTHLY MEDIA: March 2020

So like most of you, this month has seen more time spent at home consuming things. Now, more than ever, I think it’s good to share what we’re doing and seeing and hearing. Here’s how March went.

……….FILM……….

The Invisible Man (2020) Stressfully fantastic. I was relieved when it was more of a thriller/suspense sorta film (as opposed to straight horror) and hoboy does it deliver on making everything tense. Well-acted and relevant. Also very stressful.

The Muppet Movie (1979) First time seeing this and it holds up. I would say I recognized maybe 5 of the celebrities that were featured, but could easily tell when someone was supposed to be a familiar face. Man fame is a weird thing. Anyway, the songs and origin story were lovely and I really think what works about the muppets are their blend of absurdity and sincerity. Sure they snark each other sometimes, but their general motivation is to put some good in the world and I think that’s a great addition to our media diet.

Jenny Slate: Stage Fright (2019) This is the first of Jenny Slate’s specials that I’ve seen and it was a lot of fun! The interweaving of home videos, interviews with family, and her stand-up added an extra layer to everything. Oh also very funny!

Black Christmas (2019) We missed this in theatres and were anxiously waiting for the blu-ray release and...I think that built up too much anticipation. I’m all for what the movie was trying to say, but how it said it was muddled. It also managed to be fairly boring for 2/3 of the runtime. Bummer. 

……….TELEVISION……….

Love is Blind (Episode 1.01 to 1.02) We’ve barely started this and I wasn’t sure about it during the first ep, but knowing the series quickly moves past the blind dating is reassuring. Very keen to see how this all plays out.

McMillion$ (Episode 1.01 to 1.03) I know there’s a far more popular (and tiger-centric) docuseries in the zeitgeist right now, but I’m really enjoying this. They limit the insane FBI agent after the first episode, and it’s the right call. It’s true crime that we can all relate to via the McDonald’s element, and for that alone I think it’s worth checking out.

Locke & Key (Episode 1.01 to 1.10) Wonderfully whimsical. The last two episodes have some questionable writing that really only stands out because the previous 8 were so strong, but I suppose part of that is likely due to setting up a second season? I dunno. It did make me interested in returning to the series (as the first volume didn’t click with me) so that’s saying something.

What We Do in the Shadows (Episode 1.08 to 1.10) Consistently strong season of television! It’s refreshing to watch something where each episode works on it’s own, while still offering lots of through-lines across episodes. Also that finale gave us lots to get excited for with the next season! Very very good series.

The Bachelor (Episode 24.10 to 24.12) What a dud. This season ended the way it started and that really makes one question why they watched it at all? It certainly wasn’t for the beautiful friendships formed between contestants. It wasn’t for the deep and meaningful conversations while the lead tried to find true love. It wasn’t even for the genuine drama about silly things. It all just felt overproduced and undercooked. Such a bummer.

……….READING……….

Witches Abroad by Terry Pratchett (Complete) I love a good Discworld novel (this being number 12!) It’s like comfort food in these complex times. The Witches are always fun and I really picture the Sanderson Sisters from Hocus Pocus and that adds another layer to things. If you’re looking for light, humours fantasy chock full of tropes, check out this series.

The Incal by Alejandro Jodorowsky and Jean Giraud (Complete) After having read this just once and barely remembering it, I decided to come back to it. I still find it a little wordy, but the overall plot is so operatic and psychedelic that I’m glad I gave it a reread. It feels 70s future in a way that I can’t describe, and I can totally see why Jodorowsky wanted to direct DUNE. This is political and weird and has everything he couldn’t make happen with that movie. Anyway, it’s worth picking up. 

The Sleeper and the Spindle by Neil Gaiman and Chris Riddell (Complete) A wonderfully illustrated short story. Enough of Sleeping Beauty and Snow White has been changed and merged to make it a fresh interpretation and Gaiman finds a good balance of creepy and all-ages appropriate.

……….AUDIO……….

Twin Temple (Bring You Their Signature Sound.... Satanic Doo-Wop) by Twin Temple (2018) A lot of folks have been posting their fave listening online while we all quarantine and it’s introduced me to so much (including this)! The title says it all and “Satanic Doo-Wop” perfectly encapsulates their sound.

OOZEFM (Spotify Account) I’ve started a dedicated Spotify account for Booburgh’s radio station, OOZEFM. Curated playlists abound and I hope you enjoy!

……….GAMING……….

Neverland: A Storybook Campaign Setting (Andrews McMeel Publishing) My RPG setting! The ongoing campaign is continuing along well as the group spends more time in the mountains while waiting to find a fallen star. They’ve also come across a few pirates, so that’s also fun. I also ran a  one-shot with the Mof1 Podcast that you can listen to here (well, the first half)!

A Red & Pleasant Land (Lamentations of the Flame Princess) The group continues to explore the dual towers and after killing an egg man, rescuing a spider, and fireballing a bunch of the King’s court, they’ve been presented with a choice: door #1 or door #2.

Celeste (Matt Thorson and Noel Berry) Such a beautiful game. The controls and concept are so perfect and each new stage offers something fresh. I wish those stages were broken up into smaller chapters, as I’d be more likely to revisit if I didn’t have to commit to the whole thing at once, but I’m splitting hairs at this point. Absolutely check this out.

Wilmot’s Warehouse (Finji) Wonderfully relaxing and exactly as the trailer describes: for people who love to organize things. The stress of getting deliveries/getting items to customers is balanced by stretches of free time where you can rearrange and organize your supplies at your leisure. I’m about 60% of the way through and find not much has evolved. I don’t know if I’ll finish it but I’ve really enjoyed the time spent with it so far.

And that’s it! As always, share any recommendos and stay safe out there.

Happy Tuesday!

[such-a-random-rambler]

Happy Christmas

Since @tagsecretsanta​ works so hard to arrange our secret santa exchange, I thought it was time they got something in return.

So, as with the rest of us they gave me three prompts and the one I choose was ‘Scott and Virgil and kids at Christmas’ so here you go - Merry Christmas and thank you @tagsecretsanta

“Would you want one of these, one day?” Virgil asked.

Scott peered at him in the dim light. Though only sitting against the opposite wall, Virgil’s features were difficult to make out. Scott gave a one shouldered shrug in response, being careful not to disturb anyone.

“Weird.” Said Virgil “I always thought you would make a great dad.”

They had been trapped in this room for nearly eight hours now. A combination of high winds and acid rain had meant it wasn’t safe to take off. The flash flood made it impossible to leave the room. Damage to this mining complex’s communications array made Thunderbird Five indecipherable due to static, at least until the storm passed. It had been a crazy day, not the normal Tuesday.

The only place to seek refuge had been this cramped supply closet. Okay it was large as supply closets went, but still far too small for six people, even small people. Far from the best place to spend the night, let alone this particular night.

“I haven’t really thought about it.” lied Scott.

“Sure.” Scoffed Virgil.

It would have been alright if it was just the two of them - well not alright: it was always tough to be on a callout on the important days – but they could manage. It came with the job and no-one took a missed birthday or anniversary personally. It was the kids that Scott felt sorry for.

They had managed to evacuate all of the miners before the storm swept in, but the children had been holed up in their school room across the camp. Scott and Virgil had barely made it to them before the weather got too bad and there was no way to get them out.  

To their credit they had been very brave: comforted by the soothing tones of confident adults who never let their own fear show. Virgil and Scott had been hard pressed to distract them though.

Tonight they should have been in the main compound with their families, putting the finishing touches to the Christmas tree. They should have put out stockings and a plate of mince pies for Santa (plus carrots for the reindeer). There should have been hot chocolate while wrapped in blankets and watching The Muppets Christmas Carol.  

That was Christmas Eve, not this: stuck in their school store room with two strangers.  

When Scott and Virgil realised they were going to be taking up temporary residence they set to wearing out the four energetic ten-year-olds as quickly as possible. They raided the school supplies without compunction and the room was now full of pictures, Christmas lists, paper chains, garlands, paper snowflakes and origami stars. They used every craft and game in their arsenal to fill the time and stop them all dwelling on what a shit Christmas Eve this had turned out to be.

When the wind had picked up further Scot and Virgil had told the children that it would be most fun –meaning safe – to camp in this small room with no windows. Now they were both trapped with one child sleeping on each side using their legs as a pillow, blankets wrapped tight. Scott couldn’t blame them for taking what comfort they could despite the absence of their parents.  

“What?”

“You’re Scott Tracy, you plan everything. Of course you’ve at least considered it.” Virgil said.

Scott frowned. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with being prepared and I seldom hear you complaining when I’ve bought along just he piece of gear we need.”

“Then what do you think?” Virgil nodded at the forms sleeping on them. “Do you want a family of your own?”

“Well, in theory yes, but practically is a whole different ball game.”

“Why?”

“For one thing we are spending Christmas Eve holed up half way around the world from home, and will do to well into Christmas Day. It takes a pretty special person to be prepared to put up with that sort of crap.”

“Special people do exist though.” Virgil countered, ever the optimist.  

“Sure, but first I have to find them, and to find them I have to talk to more than just people I happen to be rescuing at that moment.”

“So take a day off. Go to a club – I’d make a great wingman.”

“That’s not really my scene.” Scott scrunched up his face in distaste.  

“Stop seeing problems! We’re solutions people.”

Scott gave a deep sigh.

“I don’t think I could do that to someone, do that to those hypothetical kids.”

“Do what?”  Virgil asked.

“Make them sit and wait every time. We get a taste of it sure, but for every mission, every rescue, they would be sitting at home wondering if this was the time that we were too daring. If this time the problem was too big. If this time someone wasn’t coming home.”

Scott had often wondered if they would be in this line of work if Mom were still alive. Would she be sitting at home right now, checking and rechecking the equipment, waiting anxiously for them to get back in touch? Maybe she would be pacing – she was always full of energy so Scott didn’t know if she could sit and wait. Or maybe she was doing something – cleaning, cooking, painting – anything to fill her hands while her thoughts were far away.

“Or they could be sitting there thinking how proud they are.” Virgil was saying. “I’m not going to say I’m not worried when one of you guys is out there without me, it makes me feel sick I’m so scared for you. But that’s nothing compared to the look on people’s faces when we get them out of trouble. Think of what these guys parents are going to look like when we get out of here.”

“Yeah, that’s the reason I do it, but that’s not good enough to put someone else through it.” Scott told him.

“Thing is Scott, you don’t necessarily get to make that choice for someone. If I manage to get you off the island long enough to run into this special person you don’t get to decide how much they can cope with.”

Scott thought about that, really thought about what it would be like to raise children on the island.  They’d learn to walk along the beaches. He would need to put in guard rails around the pool until Gordon taught them to swim. Maybe John could home school them for a bit  - because he was by far the best teacher – just until they were old enough to spend some time away. Not that he would want them to go to boarding school as such but they didn’t exactly live in any school’s catchment area and he would want them to have meet other kids.  He would teach them to fly, of course, in one of the light aircraft they kept for when a Thunderbird would be overkill. They’d spend time baking with Grandma and drawing pictures of the rain forest. Kayo would tell them stories about hero’s and villains, Virgil teach them the piano, Alan would game with them and Brains would probably make a robotic pet.  

In all his musing – now or before – it never occurred to Scott that neither he nor his family would be living anywhere but the island.

“I’ll tell you one thing, no child of mine will be joining International Rescue.” Scott said gruffly.

Virgil laughed, being sure to keep it low and quiet. “That will be another thing that you don’t get to decide. But I’m glad we’ve moved on from ‘it’ll never happen’ though.”

Maybe Mom wouldn’t have been waiting at home. Maybe she would have been out with them. She never once asked someone else for a favour she wasn’t prepared to do in return: maybe this would have been no different. Part of Scott knew that his memories were coloured through the lenses of childhood, time and the firm belief that he had the best Mom ever. But the other part believed that his Mom would be as fearless in the face of natural disasters as she was fighting for the last of that year’s must-have toy.

Yeah, his Mom would have made a great Thunderbird pilot. Scott felt a smile spread across his face at the thought. Virgil looked puzzled, not knowing where Scott’s musings had taken him.

“What about you? See a family in your future?” Scott asked his little brother.

“Yep.” Virgil grinned. “A whole football team’s worth.”

“And maybe that’s something you don’t get to decide” Scott chuckled.

“Probably.” Virgil agreed without any less humour.

“Then maybe we should go out together at some point – meet some people who aren’t scared to death for a change.”

Before Virgil could answer a high pitched beep started to emanate from Scott’s wrist. He moved to silence it as quickly as he could, but one of the children still woke slightly, muttered, and then snuggled in closer.  

It was always a challenge to keep up with who was in which time zone. John could tell you who had recently eaten, who had slept or who was three days younger than they should be because they’d crossed the International Date Line too often without even looking up from his coffee. Scott couldn’t do any of those things and had a hard time keeping straight where was day and where was night, so he kept his watch set to island time – a small anchor to home.

The beep could only mean one thing – back on a small friendly island in the middle of a large uncaring ocean it was midnight. It was Christmas day.

Everyone might be fast asleep right now, the turning of the day going unnoticed. As Thunderbird Two was still mid-mission they were probably still awake and exchanging the first greeting and hugs of the day, John giving his virtually for now. Scott wasn’t about to let thousands of miles get in the way of joining in.

“Happy Christmas Virgil. Not how I wanted to start the day.”

“Happy Christmas Scott. Be neither, but ” Virgil looked down fondly at the sleeping forms that were pinning him down. “It could be worse.”