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goldenraeofsun · 4 years

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the best day with you

Part of this verse!

Dean taps Claire on the shoulder. “You got plans for this weekend?”

Claire twists on their couch to see him and sets aside her laptop. With narrowed eyes full of suspicion, she grabs the remote and mutes Dr. Sexy. “Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

Dean rolls his eyes. This is why he became a teacher. To help teenagers. Not to strangle them for sassing him to his face. Sure, Claire might be a sophomore in college now, and she’s not really a teenager anymore, but Dean’s never going to see her as anything but an angsty junior in high school. Especially if she keeps up the this attitude. Dean says, as evenly as he can, “Because I want to do something with you.”

Claire grimaces. “Really? Don’t you have other boring old man friends to do things with? Like, for instance, your boyfriend?”

“No,” Dean says. “Cas is going to visit Gabriel in LA this week.”

“And you chose to stay behind with me instead?” Claire says, her eyebrows rising to her hairline.

“Yes.”

“Are you dying?”

“What?” Dean gapes. “No!”

Claire squints at him. “Are you hoping I can score drugs for you?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “I can get my own drugs, thanks. It’s one of the perks of being a real live adult.”

“Do you need money?”

“If I did,” Dean starts incredulously, “why would I ask a broke college student?”

“I don’t know,” Claire says with a shrug. “Dementia? That kicks in about now for you, right?”

Dean’s mouth falls open. “I’m barely thirty-four!”

Claire shrugs. “Alzheimers?”

“That’s a kind of dementia,” Dean tells her flatly. He runs a hand down his face. “Look, are you free or not, kid?”

Dean is pretty sure she doesn’t have plans, judging by the way she’s religiously camped out on their couch for the past two weeks straight. She's abandoned her spot only to go to the bathroom, eat meals, and, on one memorable occasion, visit her parents for Sunday dinner. The living room her space now - which is fine with him, Dean’s been doing his summer school grading at the kitchen table. Along with her computer, Claire’s got the coding handbook Charlie Frankenstien-ed for her out of a bunch of different documents, probably all downloaded and printed illegally. On the television, she cycles through daytime soaps and CW evening dramas.

Claire grins. “On Saturday or something? Yeah.”

He rolls his eyes. “Was that so hard?”

“No, but it was fun.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a handful?” Dean says as he turns to head back into the kitchen. Lunch wasn’t going to make itself, and Cas was due back any minute from his errands.

“Just my parents, every day from age thirteen to eighteen,” Claire says casually as she reaches for the remote to resume Dr. Sexy.

Dean freezes. “Hey,” he starts, not really sure where he’s going with this.

“What?” Claire snaps as if annoyed, but her face is guarded.

“Your parents were asshats, you know that?” Dean says. “They shouldn’t have done that to you.”

“Yeah, well, you know what they say about family,” Claire mutters as she turns up Dr. Sexy.

In the middle of her junior year of high school, Claire moved in with Cas for about six months.

Early in the year, she had an explosive argument with her parents about transferring from their preferred private school to Edlund High. She also came out to them.

Dean has the sneaking suspicion Claire doesn’t think she had it that bad. Her parents didn’t hit her. They didn’t kick her out. They didn’t even stop giving her her allowance. But they didn’t talk to her for days on end. They ignored her until she needed something from them, or the other way around. By Christmas, Claire had had enough. She left.

Back then, Dean told Claire her parents were in the wrong as many times as she would let him - which wasn’t many.

Cas took the lead with her, instead. She was his family. He found her a therapist and encouraged her to make friends at Edlund. Dean didn’t really feel like it was his place. She was Cas’s niece, and Dean was the guy who stayed over a couple times a week when she was crashing there too. And then he became her teacher when the transfer to Edlund became official. Still, she wouldn’t consider him family.

“My uncle always said, ‘family don’t end in blood,’” Dean tells her seriously.

Claire slumps back on the couch. “Right,” she says dully.

Dean takes a step back, rubbing his neck as he swallows down his next few words. He’s not about to give a heartfelt lecture on family and healthy boundaries to someone who’s going to grumble and groan through it. He jerks his head towards the kitchen. “I’ll get started on-”

Claire interrupts, “But that’s not grammatically correct. Aren’t you an English teacher? Who gave you a license to teach?”

Dean snorts. “Just think about it, will you?”

“Uh huh,” Claire waves him off. “If you’re going to the kitchen, can you make me a sandwich?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yes, Your Majesty. Cas finished off the strawberry jelly while he was grading essays last night, so you’re gonna have to settle for grape.”

Claire makes a face but nods. Dean’s almost at the kitchen door when she asks, “Your uncle, was he really your uncle?”

Dean shakes his head. “Not by blood. He was a good friend of my dad’s. But he was as good as family - better than, sometimes.” He swallows. Bobby’s been gone two years now. Dean had thought the grief when his dad passed was bad, but it was a whole other beast with Bobby.

Claire squints at him, looking so much like Cas Dean can’t help the warm feeling in his chest. “This is your show, right?” she asks out of the blue, gesturing to the television.

Dean blinks. “Yeah?”

And that’s how Cas finds them ten minutes later, eating PB&Js on the couch, watching Dr. Sexy - with Claire skewering every characterization and costume choice, and Dean defending Dr. Sexy’s cowboy boots with his life.

* * *

“Minigolf, really?” Claire asks as they pull into the parking lot on a bright Saturday afternoon. The early-summer temperatures are already high enough to make Dean sweat in the Impala, and Claire’s shorts could double as bikini bottoms, they’re so small.

She adds, “You realize I have a fake ID and we could probably go to a bar or something.”

“One,” Dean says as he slams the car door shut, “minigolf is a classic American pastime. Much better for your liver than drinking. And B, don’t ever tell Cas about that fake.”

Claire clambers out of the car. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Just making sure,” Dean says airily as he starts walking. He holds out his hand as she jobs to catch up to him. “Lemme see it.”

“Why?” she asks suspiciously as she digs for her wallet in her purse and fishes the ID out.

“Nice job,” Dean says as he holds it up to the sunlight shining overhead. “Ash?”

Claire stops short, surprised. “What?”

“Did Ash do this one?” Dean asks. “Come on,” he tells her as he nudges her shoulder to keep her moving out of the middle of the parking lot. “Nobody else does ‘em this good.”

“How do you know that?” Claire demands.

Dean laughs. “I told you I can get my own drugs.”

“Ash deals too?” Claire asks, looking hopeful.

Dean leans over to ruffle her hair. “His dope is a little out of your price range, squirt.”

“Hey!” Claire squawks as she tries to smooth everything back into place. “And nobody calls it ‘dope’ any more, you doof.”

Dean grins. “Yeah, I know.”

They enter the main building and get in line to rent the putters. It smells strongly of sunblock and worn down parental patience. A few parents wait ahead of them, all older than Dean with kids younger than Claire. A group of high schoolers are inspecting a row of putters on display on the far wall. Through the windows to the back, Dean can see a splendid display of mostly-intact astroturf and course obstacles with sun-faded paint.

The guy behind the counter is wearing an obnoxiously bright shirt and smile. “Hiya,” he says cheerily as they step up to the counter, “I’m Garth, welcome!”

“Two adults please,” Claire says quickly, like she knows Dean was going to ask for a kid’s ticket to mess with her.

“You got it,” Garth says as he bends down to grab two putters. “The bathrooms are by Hole 7, and if you want to grab lunch across the way at Fenris’s Diner, show them your receipt and you’ll get 15% off.”

Dean steps forward with his wallet. “Do you know if they have pie?”

Garth smiles wider, showing even more teeth, which Dean didn’t think was possible. “You bet! The best darn cherry pie I’ve ever tasted.”

“Awesome,” he says. “Thanks, man.”

“Thank you!” Garth says as he rings them up. “And good luck on the course!”

* * *

Dean is uncomfortably sweaty by Hole 2, and Claire piles her hair on top of her head in a messy bun to cool off her neck halfway through Hole 4.

“Swing batter, batter, swing!” Dean shouts from right behind her as she hits the ball at Hole 6.

Claire glares at him as her ball knocks against the windmill blade and skips off to the side. “That’s for baseball, idiot.”

“But you still missed,” Dean points out as he sidles up to tee. “So does it really matter? Hey!” She kicks him in the ankle as he strikes at the ball. “You cheater,” he gasps dramatically.

“So what?” Claire asks, putter swinging ominously at her side, “You gonna tell on me?”

Dean frowns. “No, but I won't buy you any pie when this is all over.” He keeps his eyes peeled for an opportunity to mess with her as she takes another stab at the windmill.

“Fine with me. I like cake better.”

Dean raises his head to gape at her. “Seriously?”

Claire throws him a funny look. “Does it matter?”

Dean’s mouth works furiously. “You ate the last slice of pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving two years ago.”

Claire’s eyebrows climb to her hairline as she leans against the windmill and watches him take another stab at it. “You remember that?”

Dean hardly watches where his ball goes. “Of course I do.”

Jimmy and Amelia had elected to have Thanksgiving at Cas’s mother’s place. Cas, whose frosty relationship with his mother wasn’t helped by her dismissive attitude towards Claire, hosted a separate Thanksgiving at the (then) new house he shared with Dean. Sam and Jess flew in from California, and Claire was, of course, invited too. They were having a fucking blast, until Claire stole the last slice of pie right out from under Dean’s nose.

Claire snickers under her breath. “You’re so weird.”

Dean glares. “I called dibs.”

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about, McMurphy,” Claire says, the liar. She crouches to get a better look at the windmill.

Dean tries to suppress his smile. “Was that a One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest reference?”

Claire rolls her eyes. “I paid attention in your class, you know. Even if you gave me an A-minus.”

Dean grins. “But you got a 5 on the AP Exam.”

Claire does a little jig as her ball falls into the hole.

* * *

“What the fuck?” Dean howls as his ball stops just short of Hole 9. Parents chaperoning a group of five kids at Hole 10 glare daggers at him.

Claire laughs uproariously. “Sucks to suck, old man.”

“Hey!” Dean glowers as she sinks a hole in one.

“What’s that?” Claire holds her putter up in victory. “Did you see that? Did that go in the hole? I wasn’t watching. Did the ball go in the hole?”

“Shut up, kid,” Dean grumbles as Claire smirks. “It wasn’t funny the first time.” He concentrates on his next shot. God help him if he fucks up with his ball barely half a foot from the hole.

One of the toddlers at Hole 10 lets out an ear-splitting shriek, and Dean’s ball skips off in the direction of Hole 13.

Claire doubles over laughing.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean grumbles as he sidesteps her to go fetch it, “Like you would’ve done any better.”

“I just did. Or did you miss my hole in one?” Claire asks from right behind him.

“I’m hungry,” Dean declares.

“Okay…?” Claire squints at him.

Dean nods to a hotdog stand by Hole 14. “Whaddya say to a dog?”

“Mystery meat at a roadside attraction that hasn’t been renovated since ‘97? Sign me up,” Claire says sarcastically.

Dean claps her on the back, just a shade too hard. “That’s the spirit.”

She stumbles but doesn't fall - exactly Dean’s plan - and glares at him. “If I get E. coli, it’s your fault.”

Once hotdogs are in hand, they sit and eat on a worn bench that’s more chipped paint than bench, facing a dinky little fountain. A few pennies glint dully from at bottom, almost obscured by the bright midday sunlight reflecting off the surface of the water.

“So,” Claire says after she takes her first bite. “You wanna tell me what this is all about?”

“What?”

“This whole distant dad trying to reconnect with his kid routine,” Claire says.

“I - I’m not your dad,” Dean stutters, face heating.

“Duh. Dad was more of Church retreat guy.” She leans back on the bench, stretching out her legs, and tilts her face up to catch more sun. “I would’ve had a better time if there was no singing and 100% more hitting things.”

Dean asks haltingly, “So you don’t think this is weird?”

“What hanging out with you?” Claire asks, her smile guileless. “I heard elder enrichment is important to prevent cognitive decline, so I’m just doing my duty.” She laughs at his disappointed frown. “Relax. This has been… great.”

“Really?”

Claire finishes off her hotdog and balls up the aluminum foil wrapper. “Yeah. Don’t let it go to your head.”

Dean gets up to put her trash and his in the garbage and manages to stow his broad smile before he gets back.

* * *

“Hole in one!” Dean crows at Hole 15.

“Do you want a gold star?” Claire snarks as she tees up.

“Shut up.”

Claire swings, and they both watch as her ball deftly navigates around the bumps and turns to sink neatly into the hole.

Dean’s smile falls off his face as Claire jumps around in victory. “Lucky shot,” he tells her as they troop to Hole 16.

“Uh huh,” Claire says. “And that makes, what seven lucky shots for me? And how many holes in one have you had?”

At the next hole, they have to wait for the large family ahead of them to finish up.

“Oh my god,” Claire mutters as one of the parents demonstrates how to properly swing the putter for the youngest child, “it’s minigolf. Not the Olympics.”

“I know, right?” Dean says in an undertone. “Who cares how she hits the ball? If she wants to bowl it down the course, let her.”

“Seriously, who gives a fuck?”

“I bet she’s gonna scream before they’re done with the lesson.”

“What?”

“Water works in 5… 4… 3…”

They wait with bated breath as, sure enough, the child sits down in the middle of the course and wails. She refuses to even touch the putter.

“How did you know that was gonna happen?” Claire asks as the family moves on. She eyes him critically. “High schoolers aren’t the tantrum type.”

“Shows what you know,” Dean snorts. No matter the point of spending today with Claire, he wasn’t about to tell her how he became an expert in toddler care. Christ, he can still remember the sticky feeling of Sammy’s vomit all over his front when he cried so hard he puked. Dean’s crime? Telling Sammy his favorite blanket needed to be washed. Dean hadn’t even taken it away yet.

Dean tells Claire instead, “I’ve seen more meltdowns over bad essay grades than I’d like. And it’s not like I can say, well, you should have read the damn book, Ava.”

“You wouldn’t say something like that,” Claire says as she bends down to set up her ball.

“Of course not,” Dean rolls his eyes, “that makes it worse.”

Claire straightens. “No, I’m saying, you would probably ask her why she didn’t have the time to read the book; if she’s tried the audiobook instead; if you should talk to Mr. Lafitte for her since she spent too long on Algebra and didn’t get to your homework.” She shrugs, meeting his eyes briefly. “You would do something like that.”

Dean blinks because she’s got him exactly right. He’s a firm believer that there’s no such thing as a lazy student. There are unmotivated students; there are students with undiagnosed ADHD or dyslexia; and there are anxious and/or depressed students. Hell, there are students with side-jobs, bills to pay, and little brothers to look after.

“Yeah,” he agrees, discomfited. Claire was his student for one year, but her presence in class was kind of eclipsed by her rocky home life. In senior year, she was back with her parents, but she also caught up regularly with Cas. In class, she faded into the background - Kaia’s blonde shadow. Cas’s stories provided Dean with more insight than any discussion on The Plot Against America ever did.

“All the seniors loved you,” Claire says. “Max Banes would’ve slept with you if he could.”

Dean hits his ball right into the mini sand pit. “What?”

Claire smirks. “You didn’t know?”

“No!”

“Uncle Cas was right, you are oblivious,” Claire says as she whacks her ball straight into the hole.

“Hey,” Dean says, but the protest is weak. “Cas wasn’t much better.”

Claire grins. “No one’s arguing that.” She waits until Dean’s mid-swing to say, “Max would’ve slept with Uncle Cas too - which, gross.”

“Dammit, Claire!”

* * *

“Okay,” Claire says as they walk away from Hole 18. “I’m gonna need to sit in AC for at least forty-five minutes.”

They’ve been out in the sun for nearly two hours now. Dean pulls his damp shirt away from his stomach with a grimace. “You down for pie?”

“Sure,” Claire says gratefully as they leave minigolf behind them.

In the diner, the air conditioning hits them like a bucket of cold water to the face. Claire throws herself into the first both they see as Dean troops off to relieve himself in the bathroom. He checks his phone - one grumpy text from Cas about Gabriel’s inappropriate choice of swimwear for a hotel pool - and exits with a smile on his face.

Back at the booth, Claire is twirling a lock of blonde hair around her finger, smiling coyly up at the waitress from lowered lashes. But Claire's inviting expression flips off like a switch as Dean drops down into the opposite seat.

The waitress’ own sunny smile takes on a distinctly plastic sheen at his arrival. “Hello!” she chirps as Dean picks up the menu. “Is there anything I can get you besides water?”

“Can I get a coke?” Dean asks the waitress - Maggie, according to her nametag. She’s tall, probably taller than Claire, and dark-haired. She seems around Claire's own age, so Dean would bet she’s only working here as a summer job.

Claire is still glaring daggers at him, so Dean asks, partly to be a dick, “And what’re you getting, Claire?”

“Water,” she says through gritted teeth.

“A coke and a water, please,” Dean says cheerfully to Maggie.

She bobs a nod and casts a lingering look at Claire. “I’ll be right back to take your order.”

Claire kicks him under the table as she disappears into the kitchen. “You couldn’t have waited another five minutes?” she hisses “I was just about to get her number.”

Dean grins. “My bad.”

“Now she thinks I’m here with my dad or something.” Claire crosses her arms across her chest.

Dean rolls his eyes. “You call me an old man, but I’m, what, twelve years older than you? We’re more likely to be on a date.”

Claire’s flat-out horrified face is enough to make Dean’s week. He’s still laughing as Maggie makes a return, one water and one Coca Cola in tow.

“So what can I get you both?” Maggie asks as she reaches for her pad and pen.

“One slice of cherry pie, thanks,” Dean says brightly.

“Nothing for me,” Claire mumbles.

Maggie looks from Claire to Dean and back again. “One cherry pie,” she confirms slowly. “Should I bring out two forks?”

Over Dean’s fresh bout of laughter, Claire says loudly, “We’re not together!”

Maggie blinks a few times, and Dean can’t tell if she’s more shocked by his reaction or Claire’s. “Okay.”

As she leaves, Claire buries her head in her hands. Her voice is muffled by her hands and hair, but Dean can make out, “This is all your fault.”

“How?” Dean asks as he sucks on his straw. “It’s not my fault if you’ve got no game, kid.”

Claire slumps onto the table. “I used to.”

“Stalking doesn't count as ‘game’ or else Cas and me would have gotten together way before we did,” Dean says sagely.

Still face-down on the table, Claire flips him the bird.

“Have you spoken to Kaia lately?”

Claire doesn’t move for a long moment. When she finally raises her head, her expression is pinched. “Not since Spring Break last year. She was doing good, I guess.”

Awkwardly, Dean says, “It’s okay if you’re still hung up on her.”

Claire waves his assurances away. “It’s been a whole fucking year."

Dean sighs. “These things can take time. You were with her while a lot was going on in your life, and she was there for you through all of it. Just ’cause you're young doesn’t mean it meant less. But if you want to move on, sometimes you don’t have to wait until you’re 100% ready.”

“Thanks, Senpai.”

Maggie approaches carrying a large slice of cherry pie.

“Here you go,” Maggie says as she sets the plate down. “Anything else I can get you?”

“Nothing for me,” Dean butts in before Claire can get a word in edgewise, “But Claire, here, would like your number.”

Maggie goes bright red.

“Dean,” Claire hisses, completely mortified. “What the fuck?” She turns to Maggie. “Forget what he said. He’s a moron who doesn't know what he’s talking about.”

Maggie glances to Dean before settling back on Claire. “So… you don’t want it?”

Claire splutters, “I - no - yes, but not if-” She takes a breath, clearly trying to compose herself. “Yes, I would like your number. But not because he said so.”

“You don’t have to decide now.” Dean fishes out his wallet and takes out a five. “It won’t affect your tip,” he says with a wink as he shoves the bill under the napkin dispenser.

Maggie bites her lip. “I’ll think about it.”

Once Maggie’s left, Claire leans over the table and punches Dean, hard, in the arm. “Oh my god, are you actually braindead?”

“Hey, watch the pie!” Dean yanks his plate closer, out of Claire’s line of fire.

“What on earth possessed you to do that?” Claire demands.

Dean eyes his pie, planning his perfect plan of attack. “You needed a push in the right direction.”

Claire’s eyes flash. “I don’t need your help.”

“Tough luck, because you got it anyway,” Dean says with a shrug as portions off his first bite. “You’re only here for the summer. You don’t have the time to pine from across the softball field for a whole season.”

Claire frowns, saying warily, “I know Maggie isn’t Kaia.”

Dean points his fork, dripping with pie filling at her face. “So you gotta try a new strategy.”

“How?”

“Well, get yourself a capable wingman, for starters,” Dean says around his next bite of pie.

“Who? You?” Claire asks incredulously.

“Probably not,” Dean says, shuddering at the thought. He’d intervened with Maggie because was fucking funny as hell to see Claire get Cas-levels of awkward, but scoping out any more romantic prospects for Claire makes him feel sleazy. “I’m more of a pinch hitter.”

“What?”

“You really didn’t pay attention to a single softball game, did you?” Dean says, almost impressed.

Claire glares.

“They’re the guys called in last minute to fill in for a batter,” Dean says. He shovels the last bit of pie into his mouth, saying, “Did you keep in touch with Krissy?”

Claire shakes her head. “They were all Kaia’s friends first, so…”

“She got them in the divorce?” Dean says sympathetically.

Claire nods, her expression darkening.

“I know she’s back home for the summer too, taking care of her dad,” Dean says. “I bet she could use someone to hang with - if you ever get bored coding from our couch. Data entry for Charlie can’t be that exciting. Don’t tell her I said that.”

Claire rolls her eyes. “You don’t need to set up playdates for me, Dean.”

Dean shrugs. “Suit yourself. But none of Krissy’s other friends are back home - Josephine’s abroad, and the rest of ‘em are staying in their college towns.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Dean nods. That’s probably as good as he’ll ever get with Claire - she’s not the type to gratefully accept help. She’s more likely to complain to his face while going behind his back and doing it anyway. Which, fine, if it gets Claire out of their apartment and out of her funk.

On their way out, Maggie leaves her number on their receipt.

* * *

Claire slams the Impala door shut and relaxes in the passenger seat. “Well that was fun,” she says sarcastically as Dean twists around to pull out of the parking lot without mowing down an unfortunate 1999 Toyota Camry. “Let’s do that again soon.”

“Really?” Dean asks. At her blank stare, he adds, “I never know with you. Did you really have a good time?”

She fiddles with her seatbelt, biting her lip. “I won’t say this again, so cherish this moment: today was not the worst day I’ve ever had.” She huffs out a long breath. “It was almost fun, if you forget that shit in the diner.”

Dean laughs. “I’ll take it, I guess.” He taps his fingers against the wheel as he waits for an opening in traffic to merge onto the highway. “I’m glad.”

“Me too,” Claire mutters, so low he can barely hear her.

Dean lets the noise of the road take over for a few minutes: the reassuring rattling of the toy soldiers in the back air vent; his baby’s engine purring like a dream; the low ambient hum of her tires carrying them across miles of pavement.

Once he’s as calm as he’s gonna get, he says, “I have a question for you.”

Claire shoots him a look. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

Dean shouldn’t have bothered asking. She really is incapable of being anything other than a teenager.

“I’m thinking of asking Cas to marry me,” Dean says quickly. As Claire absorbs his words, his heart kicks up to double-time, hammering away in his chest. “Would you be okay with that?”

“Why are you asking me?” Her eyebrows are drawn together in that same furrow that Cas always has whenever a student stumps him with a question.

“Because you’re his family.” He’s honestly surprised he has to say this part out loud.

“Shouldn’t you be asking Grandmother instead?” Claire asks.

Dean shakes his head. “Cas doesn’t care about her opinion - or Jimmy’s.”

Claire takes another long moment to think that over. “So… are you, what, asking my permission?”

“Yep.”

“To marry my uncle.”

Dean shoots her a look. “I really don’t think the concept is that hard to understand.” Claire’s a smart kid. She’s probably drawing it out on purpose.

“Yeah, but -” Claire breaks off, “It’s weird, though.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “You literally called me a weird old man yesterday.”

“But… not this weird.”

“It’s a yes or no question, Claire,” Dean reminds her testily.

Claire waves him off. “I mean, yes, obviously, but what the hell?” Her eyes narrow, accusatory. “Is this why you made me do this weird bonding thing with you today?”

“I -” Dean stutters. “I didn’t make you-”

“It is!” Claire crows. “Were you thinking about it for all 18 holes?”

“No,” Dean says shortly.

“I don’t believe you.” Claire grins. “Were you nervous?”

“No.”

“Yeah, I’m calling BS again. You gotta work on that poker face.” She sits back in her seat, her smugness practically radiating off her in waves.

Dean has the strangest urge to hug her.

Claire lets her hair fall over her face as she picks at her nails. “Just so you know,” she starts in an undertone, “I know it was you who convinced Uncle Cas to take me in. Back in high school.”

“Cas wanted to be there for you,” Dean says quickly, “He just didn’t know how. Honestly,” he says with a laugh, “Cas was scared he’d piss you off more, and then where would you go?”

“Really?” Claire asks, surprised.

Dean nods. “The guy is a great teacher, but he’s not great with kids if there isn’t a desk between them, you know? He's been working on it, though. Having you around taught him a lot.”

“That makes sense,” Claire says, almost to herself. “Anyway, I’ve only really known Uncle Cas while you were together. It’d be more weird if you didn’t get married.”

Dean doesn’t bother turning on the turn signal as he pulls over to the side of the road.

“What the-?” Claire starts, twisting in her seat to look out the window. “Why’d you - oof.”

Dean wraps his arms around her, squeezing tightly.

“Ugh,” she groans, “You smell.” But she hugs him back anyway.

#fanfic #supernatural fanfic #profoundnet #offscreen destiel #established destiel #claire novak #dean winchester #snark #banter #so much snark and banter #destiel fanfic #destiel #the story of us verse #rae writes fic

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avengerscompound · 5 years

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It Comes in Jars

It Comes in Jars: A Captain America Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 675

Rating: T

Square filled: @happystevebingo - Last Jar of Ingredient on Thanksgiving Eve

Warnings: Okay this is a very innocent fluffy fic but Steve thinks something salacious right at the start which is why I gave it a T rating.

Synopsis: The night before Thanksgiving you and Steve are exhausted from a mission and still haven’t done any shopping. Exhaustion leads to weird conversations that shouldn’t be as funny as they are.

A/N: So I’m Australian, and even though I have lived in the US and made a couple of Thanksgiving meals it’s not my holiday and the traditional fare is not something I am familiar with. But I had remembered that nothing I needed for thanksgiving came in a jar. So I asked a few American friends ( @lillianfromaccounting, @mumbles411, @thelookingglassalice, @fanficwriter013) for ideas of what they’d need that came in a jar and this fic is pretty much a direct result of those conversations with some lines directly taken from them. Also, get your head out of the gutter.

It Comes in Jars

It had been one of those weeks where it was just one thing after another. The kidnapping of a foreign dignitary. A homicidal rampage through the city by some guy dressed as a rhinoceros. The breaking up of a drug cartel. There had been worse obviously. This was almost just mindless hero work. The kind where you go in, kick-ass, get congratulated and go home and sleep it off. There was nothing personal about it. No in fighting or overthinking. Just hard physical work every day that left little time for anything else.

Why the bad guys had all decided to take the holiday period to all act up at once no one could say. Whatever it was it hadn’t left anytime to prepare. There was no turkey to roast or pumpkin for pie. All the potatoes in the house had started to sprout, and the tin of cream of mushroom soup that had been put aside for green bean casserole had been eaten two days ago, because there was nothing else in the house.

“We’re gonna have to have to go to the store you know?” You said, lazing back in the recliner, sitting in the least ladylike manner you could, with one leg hanging over the arm of the chair, while the other was spread out in front of you. There was enough room for him to crawl up between those legs if he wanted to. It was a tempting thought but even with the serum's extreme regeneration, he was bone exhausted. “It’s going to be a nightmare too. People everywhere fighting over that last jar of ingredients they need for their Thanksgiving dinner.”

Steve started laughing. It started quiet, but he was so tired it quickly built to that kind of laughter you really have no control over and can’t quite explain why you’re even laughing as much as you are.

“What?” You asked, giving him a look that clearly told him you thought he’d lost his mind.

“What exactly comes in a jar that you would need to buy for Thanksgiving dinner?” He asked, trying to get control over his laughter.

“You know what I mean…” You deadpanned.

“Yes, but… why did you say jar? What comes in a jar?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes and strummed your fingers on the arm of the chair. “I don’t know. You can get cranberry sauce in a jar.”

“You and I both know, it’s not cranberry sauce unless you can see the lines from the can on it.” He teased.

“Steve...” You whined. “Stop it! I’m tired. We have to go to the store.”

“I need to know what we’re buying in a jar!” He said, completely losing it again.

“I don’t know… mincemeat?” You whined.

He got up and grabbed your hand. “Mincemeat?”

“Yeah… that dried fruit you bake into little pies. Like in England.” You said.

That did it. He completely lost it in hysterical laughter. “Who is making mincemeat pies for Thanksgiving?”

“Steve!” You yelped smacking his hip.

He lifted you up and threw you over his shoulder. “Come on then. We’re gonna buy mincemeat and you have to make pies. I expect pies.”

You flailed your arms and legs as he carried you to the door. “You’re not even gonna get turkey if you keep being such a jerk.”

He put you back on the ground and kissed your forehead. “Honestly, sweetheart, I’ll be thankful if I just get to spend the day with you. Do you still want to go to the store and fight over jars?”

You stuck out your bottom lip and leaned in, kissing his cheek. “When you say sweet things like that, then I think you deserve everything. And if we can take on that rhino guy, we can take on some stressed-out soccer mom.”

Steve followed after you, grabbing the shopping bags from the hook on the door. Getting that balance between work and home could be hard but he was thankful he had you there to help him balance it.

#happy steve bingo #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #it comes in jars

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okaybutlikeimagine · 5 years

Text

@marriedtotheenemy asked: "I would love to hear about Hop and the kids trying to cook thanksgiving dinner, and Billy reading about what the settlers did to the first Americans. Also, total inability to cook turkey!"

YES!! Okay okay let’s see here…

Hop 100% has not had a big Thanksgiving dinner in a LONG time. He just… hasn’t had a family to have a big dinner with, y’know?? And it’s sad. For the past few years when Thanksgiving would come around he’d head out to Benny’s diner to hang out with him and the other lonely/divorced/widowed people of Hawkins. He used to get offers from women he was… “friendly” with. He got an offer from Callahan and Powell one year to spend the day with their respective families. One year Joyce reached out…

But spending time with Benny was always better. Felt a little less lonely, if that can be believed. Benny always felt like family. He treated everyone like it. He was able to see any outsider and find warmth in his heart for them.

But then when… those people… in his own diner….

Anyway, when the first Thanksgiving with El rolled around she had JUST moved into Hop’s cabin and he didn’t necessarily have the means of making a major dinner. Plus, doing that for just the two of them didn’t make a whole lot of sense. Not to mention the girl didn’t even KNOW anything about Thanksgiving and he decided, rather than explain everything about every holiday ever, he’d just forego telling her. They had a nice night eating some overdone spaghetti and extra-seasoned meatballs. El seemed to thoroughly enjoy it. Hop tried to keep his mind off of his friend. And Barb and those nightmares and...

But flashforward a year or so and Hop’s cabin is bustling because El is officially wise to holidays. Billy had a fun time giving her borderline incorrect information about them all, like that Easter is about a gigantic, pastel colored chicken laying eggs everywhere followed by an entourage of chocolate flavored bunnies. (“What?” Billy had said through a smirk when Hop expressed disdain. “Bunnies don’t lay eggs. Mine makes more sense.”)

But now…

Well, El has been asking Billy all week about Thanksgiving. she refuses to ask Hop about holidays anymore after he said Valentine's day is "a hack holiday made by a bunch of candy companies who are draining our wallets pretending love is about chocolate."

She didn't like that, especially since Mike bought her a box of chocolates and Max bought her a fluffy stuffed teddy bear (she still wears the ribbon that came around his neck in her hair. Max smiles when she sees it) and El thought it was the best day EVER. She much preferred Billy's description of Cupid's army, even though flying babies sounded kind of ridiculous to her...

But Billy's fun is ending bc she’s realized that Billy’s been pulling her leg about most holidays (“What do you mean you don’t believe in the Great Pumpkin? Snoopy said so.” “No. Linus said so.” “Whatever. ”) So all week he’s been fibbing and all week she’s been giving him A Look.

“I know there’s no big turkey.”

“How do you know?”

El furrows her eyebrows. She takes a second to think about it.

“I just know.” She says, arms crossed and nose crinkled. Billy rolls his eyes and shrugs.

But she keeps asking. And he keeps telling stories and she keeps saying no so.

Billy tosses a book onto their coffee table.

"Alright kid, happy turkey day."

El eyes it curiously, unsure of the words on the cover.

"Whats this?"

"A book about Thanksgiving. From the library. Don't say i don't love you."

Billy's face immediately burns red after he says it. El gives a blinding smile and a little "love you too!" Billy shoves her shoulder and starts reading the book for her.

And let me tell you, it's probably the worst thing Hop could imagine happening today.

Because this is no kids book about turkeys and stuffing and sweet little people gathering around becoming friends. No, of course Billy had to go check out a book about what really happened and honestly, Hop doesn't know why he's surprised.

So there he is, in the kitchen, taking the turkey out of the fridge and scratching his head at how the fuck he's gonna cook this, when…

"Holy shit! They did what?"

Goddamnit Billy.

"DAD!"

Hop almost drops the turkey.

"What?!"

Billy storms into the kitchen, waving the book in his hand, trailed by a wide eyed, frightened El.

"What the fuck?"

"Language." Hop grumbles as he puts the turkey down.

"The pilgrims are shitheads."

"Billy!"

"Seriously! Look at this." And now Billy is walking towards Hop with the book open, showing him columns of text and samples of writings detailing sicknesses and fights and-

"Theyre bullies." El says from her spot near the couch.

"Yeah what is this??"

Hop rolls his eyes.

"Do you not pay attention in school-"

"Did you not pay attention? All they do is suck America's di-"

"Okay enough! Enough! Yeah, the pilgrims weren't .. great."

And honestly Hop doesn't know a whole lot about the settlers. Hes heard stuff, mainly from Joyce around senior year when she would complain to him about how America is nowhere NEAR as great as everyone says. Hop just remembers trying to kiss her to get her to stop and then getting slapped for it.

But here's his kid, ranting about settlers and pilgrims and diseases and-

"Alright alright alright, they were bad! I get it, i know, but… we made Thanksgiving a good thing now." He looks El in the eye. "It's about family now. Maybe it's a bad reason to get together but… any reason to spend time with family is a… A good one, right?"

El takes a second… but she nods. Billy is still scowling, but Hop handles the book out of his hands and slides it on top of the kitchen cabinets where even Billy can't reach.

"Alright, no more pilgrim talk, help me with the turkey, kid."

Billy grumbles a bit, but he walks over to help while El pulls a chair up to the counter and watches intently, confused by something so big and so… raw.

Thing is...

"The ovens not big enough."

Hop freezes.

"Of course it's big enough." Hes sure. Hes made a turkey in here before… right?

"Nope." Billy says plainly. "Look."

"I've made turkeys in here before!"

"You made a turkey for yourself in your dusty old cabin?" Billy asks, voice strained from holding the huge turkey and heaving it up onto the stovetop.

And that hits Hop like a freight train. Because of fucking course he hasn't. Why would he? It's just…

He has a family again. And it feels like hes had them for years. Their whole lives. He remembers the feeling of before. The feeling of helping Sara mash the potatoes. Of watching his wife glaze the turkey. Of carving it.

It feels like a lifetime ago.

Billys hand on his shoulder pulls him out.

"That's not gonna work, old man." Billy says condescendingly and itd get on Hop's nerves if the boys eyes werent flooded with concern for something Hop knows he knows.

So…

"It'll fit."

"Uhhh…." Billy says, watching Hop shove the turkey in sideways unseasoned and…

Hop turns around with renewed vigor.

But he has no recipes. He uses to have some from his last mother but his ex wife took a good chunk of them in the divorce ans he threw the rest out in a fit of depression one night. And now they can't use the oven for anything and they don't have enough bread for stuffing (Hop sends Billy and El out to the store with money) and after hours of raiding their kitchen and trying to boil the potatoes enough to be mashedd, El shrieks.

Billy turns to her and sees her pointing at-

"The oven!"

Is on fire.

Hop grabs the fire extinguisher, cussing the flames out as he sprays them.

Billy grabs El and pulls her away from the kitchen and they stand there, frozen as Hop battles the fire like it's a goddamn demogorgon. When it's just about out, he looks at El and nods towards the phone.

"Call Joyce."

Billy helps Hop pull the burnt as hell turkey out of the oven and into the dumpster out back, before getting the nod from El and guiding Hop into his truck, El holding the pumpkin pie she and Billy bought at the store bc they knew this wasn't going to go well.

Will greets the three of them at the door with a laugh.

"Thanks pipsqueak." Billy says while mussing up Will's hair.

And it's a LOVELY dinner, truly. Jonathan helps his mom cook, Billy helps El and Will get the plates down from the cabinets, and Hop does his damnedest to carve the turkey (but hes a little out of practice, so Jonathan has to step in)("he's been doing it for a few years now, Hop, just let him" Joyce says gently.)

And it's just so warm. Everyone is smiling and talking and eating happily and it's so nice and Billy can't help but think about Max while Hop can't help but think about Sara but looking around the table at everyone laughing and then they look to each other and smile and…

It's wonderful.

El calls Max so Billy can talk to her on the phone and wish her a Happy Thanksgiving. Will and Jonathan give their mom the first slice of pie, as always. Billy and Jonathan bicker in their oddly amiable way as El uses her powers to help Will begin decorating for Christmas. They're just a family, one big, odd, extremely happy family and its weird, yeah, but damn if they aren't the happiest people alive.

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oveliagirlhaditright · 4 years

Text

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27787951

Summary: A Thanksgiving story I wrote involving Death Note... since apparently I'm determined to write about all the holidays this year. A nice, happy time that everyone deserved, to be honest. And, yes: it seems like L will always find someone to compete with. LOL. Set during the Yotsuba arc... Just pretend Light hadn't gotten his memories back yet, and L hadn't been killed here.

I know the timeline of this is messed up. In canon, Light has his memories back and L is even dead at this point… Just suspend your disbelief for this one fic. Thanks:)

And I suppose Light is off the chain, just for this one holiday… mainly because L (shockingly) wants to help cook, so that they’ll have all the dishes he wants (and since L is probably still forcing Light to stay in the same room as him and they have cameras everywhere).

Originally, this was going to be shippy. But it didn’t quite get that far. So, you all can see this as friendship or shippy. Whichever you prefer.

A Day Off

L’s PoV

"...I mean, I'm looking forward to a break as much as the next person, Ryuzaki. But do you really want to celebrate Thanksgiving—and America’s Thanksgiving, for some reason—when Kira's still at large?"

And here, L tried to not let his anger at Light’s questioning him show (but how Light's contradicting him twenty-four/seven didtick him off, and keep him up twenty-four/seven as he tried to decipher it).

"Light-kun", said L, as he very unselfishly helped Watari prepare a cranberry and orange sauce they were making for the rolls that had just come out of the oven. "As I'm sure you're aware, we have reached a temporary block in this investigation. In fact, as I recall it, you were the one who told me we had hit a wall... and that I just refused to see it, since I apparently want you to be Kira and will investigate no other leads: your words, not mine. So, to that end, I think we are allowed to cook a Thanksgiving meal while we work, even if it does distract us. I think a distraction is exactly what we need right now, to rejuvenate our minds again. Now, please: stand out of the way of the blueberry pie that’s in the oven."

It was quite a tragic thing to L, that such a scrumptious dessert was about to be burnt, simply because Light-kun refused to accept the nice thing he was doing in giving them all a holiday. Blueberry may not have been L’s favorite flavor of baked good, but in the detective's mind... any food covered in sugar that met an untimely end, was a crime.

Apparently, Light didn't need to be told twice. He stood aside without much more preamble, and L was able to rescue the glorious dish from the oven. He then lovingly put it on the counter.

It was when L forgot himself for a second—and was about to eat a piece of the pie already, not even thinking on how he would scald his tongue—that Light seemed to remember he was capable of movement and slapped L's hand away... Something L would find himself being thankful of later, even if he hated being in Light Yagami’s debt.

"Ryuzaki... I still feel there has to be some ulterior motive as to why you’re doing this. I would believe you were trying to give us all a holiday, if you were sending everyone home to be with their families. But you’re not. So, I can't cancel out the possibility that you're using Thanksgiving to... get off somehow. I feel the power that you have over people is something you use to get off on, I mean… Either that, or you're trying to prove I'm Kira with this. Somehow. But how many times do I have to tell you that I'm not, Ryuzaki?"

L was about to tell Light that if anyone got off on power, it was him. Since he had long ago deduced that the teen had a rather large praise fetish. But he was interrupted from doing this, when everyone came into the kitchen to finally get some food.

Soichiro was cutting the turkey and passing it out on plates… Mogi was heating up cider for everyone... And Aizawa was finishing up the rice he'd been cooking. Matsuda, of course, got the whipped cream out of the fridge, in case the one that Watari was whipping at the moment didn’t turn out.

"Thank you so much for all of this, Ryuzaki!" Matsuda called, as he got a piece of cherry pie and put some strawberries onto it—forgetting his whipped cream that fast, and the version of it that Watari was currently burning—"everything's amazing!"

And the rest of the task force shared that sentiment, before filing out of the room.

Then and only then—when L was feasting on some pumpkin spice flavored turkey—did he answer Light's question, as the youth simply pawed at a vegetable tray. "...I suppose you’re not wrong, Light-kun."

It took Light a moment to figure out what L meant by that—but he did eventually do so, and L was mildly impressed by it—and then he was nearly knocking his broccoli to the kitchen floor in surprise. "Ryuzaki... we're celebrating the American day for Thanksgiving, aren’t we? And whenever you speak English, you have an accent... And not an American one. You're British, aren't you? And what? Are you still somehow sore about the U.S. declaring their independence or whatever? And are trying to show them up by proving you can take their version of Thanksgiving and make it better?"

L said nothing to this, because the truth was that Light had hit the nail on the head and now that he heard his brilliant plan out loud, it did sound quite mad.

But L's silence must have been answer enough, because Light angrily threw a dish towel down—why, L could only guess at--and turned towards him to shout, "Ryuzaki, that's insan-"

"Are you really that startled I'd try to one-up someone, Light?" L interrupted his "friend", feeling embarrassed despite himself as he surely blushed. At least he had shaved his eyebrows, and Light wouldn't be able to see any emotion on his face in that way... "Though I couldn't care less about the their declaring their independence part. Good for the old US of A. I just care about being better than someone. And besides, doing this allows me to have good food and celebrate Thanksgiving twice, seeing as how I of course celebrate the Harvest Festival."

And speaking of the good food… perhaps Watari hadn't burnt the whipped cream as much as they had feared! L’s father figure was motioning for him to try some of his batch right now. And as L was never one to turn down dessert, he took a spoonful of it and instantly tasted bless. He gave Watari a big thumbs up, while Light continued to be baffled beside him.

"You're unbelievable," Light accused, with a shake of his head and his hands crossed over his chest. He seemed to have forgotten about his lovely tomatoes, broccoli, and celery entirely.

L just shrugged at the comment. "Think on the bright side, Light-kun. I've chosen to compete with someone else today, so you have the day off."

Naturally, Light looked furious for L's words—and the detective imagined that he might punch him again for them—but he quickly got it together and said while pinching the bridge of his nose, "Happy Thanksgiving, Ryuzaki.”

And now Light, miracle of miracles, was going for the blueberry pie. It seemed that just for this one day, he was okay with foregoing his perfect looks.

L almost smiled at that. Almost.

Instead, he settled for worrying his lip between his teeth and replying, "And happy Thanksgiving to you too, Light-kun."

#death note #fanfiction #thanksgiving #light & l #lawlight #all the fluff and happiness #oneshot #my writing #Shanna writes #mine #my work

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fuckingrecipes · 6 years

Text

Fast and dirty guide to the flavors I keep around.

90% of the shit I cook, it uses these spices and herbs. Here’s a guide to the spices I keep, a general flavor profile, and a suggestion for use. The bold is spices I find myself using most often, and running out of fastest.

I do own other spices, like white pepper and thyme and mustard powder, but I don’t.... I don’t actually use it? Like, I get spices as gifts and some of them just sit sadly in the back of the spice display, all dusty. Spices I don’t keep is at the bottom. So these listed spices are things I actually actively use in cooking, and can remember using in the last 3-6 months. Excuse me while I go sniff my spice shelves.

Dry Spices

Cumin - Good for tacos! And anything you want to have taco undertones. Tastes like tacos.

Coriander - The name of my ball python. Sorta spicy-citrus. Very aromatic. Great for savory shit. Especially roasts and indian-ish stuff.

Garlic Powder - It's garlic. Use on literally everything.

Paprika - Tastes like smoked bell peppers. Sweet and smoky~ Mostly in savory dishes. Sometimes in deviled eggs. Which, I guess, is savory.

Allspice - Basically tastes like "American holidays." It's the non-ginger taste in gingerbread, and the non-cinnamon taste in pumpkin pie.

Nutmeg - Allspice's backup dancer. Actually, it's terrific on its own for a subtle sweet spice in a savory dish.

Cinnamon - Best bark, best bite. Cook into sweet, cook into savory, mix with sugar and dump on your pastries. Good shit.

Cloves - Warm? somehow? Good with savory or sweet things, and a key ingredient to mulled cider or mulled wine.

Tumeric - Lets be honest, it's there for the bright yellow color and the nice smell. Bitter taste of grassy dirt. I only add to dishes where other stronger flavors will overpower it.

Red Pepper - For gentle heat that lingers. Interchangeable with Black pepper if you want that peppery heat without the black pepper punch.

Black Pepper - For 'peppery' heat - sorta bitey? General use in everything.

SALT - Everything needs salt. Earth's natural MSG. Lick the rocks.

Bay Leaf - Smells like flowers. Tastes sorta like bitter mint with a hint of....pine? it's odd, but makes savory dishes feel complex and and expertly made. Fancy bastard.

Rosemary - Sweet and pine-y. Very strong. Lavender’s beefier cousin as far as flavor associations go. I tend to only have this seasonally when I can grow it in my lil garden.

Basil - idk man it's basil. Good on anything vaguely ‘Italian’. Also a seasonal thing for me because fresh basil is easy to grow and so tasty.

Oregano - Does it have a white cheese and garlic, or tomatoes? Add Oregano.

Dill - Drop it in some greek yogurt with some lemon juice, a bit of honey, and some garlic powder, then have an excellent time. Tbh I don't use Dill much, but the plant is fun to grow. Very soft and smells nice.

Fenugreek - Goddamn I need to use this more often. Sorta maple syrup meets burnt sugar. REALLY good in soups and curries to add a rich sweetness.

Mixes

Curry Powder - Usually includes tumeric, coriander, cumin, fenugreek, and red pepper. "Curry" is a spice blend, not a spice from a plant.

Garam Masala - Some sort of blend of Cinnamon, Cadamom, Cloves, Cumin, Coriander, Nutmeg, and Pepper. There’s like, a billion variations for this, so your blend may vary.

Chili Powder - ancho chili, paprika, cumin, and mexican oregano. A pleasant, rich heat.

Liquids

Lavender Syrup - Flower nectar, basically. I tend to go through a LOT during the summer, because Lavender Lemonade is some bomb ass shit, but it's nice to dab into savory dishes to add sweetness. It's also terrific in mixed alcoholic drinks. You can easily make most syrups by boiling sugar and water with your herb of choice.

Lime Juice - Citrus and ready to fight.

Lemon Juice - Citrus and a little more chill.

Vinegar - I use white vinegar for cleaning and if a recipe specifically calls for it. Apple cider vinegar gets used in any other cooking setting. Balsamic vinegar is for dipping and drinking.

Soy Sauce - My body craves the savory salt.

Mustard - Great condiment. Great in pot roast.

Miso paste - Technically not a liquid. Very savory, excellent addition to many dishes and dressings. Makes a great soup base. Infinite shelf life in the fridge. I keep yellow miso but if you want to be cautious, white miso (Shiro Miso) is the gentlest introduction to miso flavor. Sweet and mild. Umami bomb. ---- Shit I never have in my house: Saffron - Too fucking expensive, not enough flavor to care.

Mustard powder - Anything I’d use the powder in, I also use vinegar and whatever else is in the condiment, so I just keep bottled mustard.

White Pepper - It’s black pepper, but hotter and the flavor doesn’t last as long in your mouth. Meh.

Star Anise - The flavor of black licorice. Just.... why?

Caraway seed - tastes like nutty Anise.

Fennel - Tastes like Anise and trees.

Tarragon - Smells like Anise.

Thyme - I guess it’s ok, but I just never use it. Good in stuff you want to taste like thanksgiving stuffing.

Sage - Same as Thyme. Smells nice.

Parsley - Tastes like grass. Grass flakes. Lawn clippings. No.

-----

Anyway, since I’m kinda bored today, send me a list of spices you’ve got laying around and want to use, and I’ll whip up a short (hopefully easy) recipe.

#spices #spice guide #flavortown #dungeons and dragons and drive ins and dives

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jjkfire · 5 years

Note

Hi sweety! How are you doing? Is life treating you right? How’s the job going? I heard it’s Thanksgiving there! Hope you got a nice meal with great ppl! Just wanted to check up on you and say how thankful I am that you’re here and happy and for your work! Seeing you achieving the things you wanted and living life your own way makes me very happy! Hope you have a great weekend!

hello!!!!!!!! oh my gosh i am so sorry for the late reply lol i have had such a busy month and i always feel like i take time to reply to your asks because i don’t want them to be half-assed replies ): anyway i’ll reply to this ask and the others under the cut!

//i’ll reply to this new ask first! but i’m good :D how are you??? it is thanksgiving and i spent it with my friend’s family hehe so it was great. i ate a lot which made me very happy and i also got to see my friend whom i haven’t seen in a few months hehe. again, you’re so nice and sweet and although thanksgiving is an american thing haha i hope you had a wonderful week and weekend regardless of that. i hope you too are out there achieving the things you want in life!!!

Sweet pumpkin pie (cause Halloween is around the corner)! I was fast replying this time! You know, I really don’t mind the negativity around me, ppl being false and not treating me “right” as long as I’m myself and kind and generous. I don’t tolerate being disrespected and stuff and am fierce and scary when I’m standing my ground, but only when necessary. You know, negativity and victimization is an option; we always have a choice, so I chose to absorb all the positive things and silverlinings +

The course called Now is basically self-help. It’s lead by a very famous psychiatrist Roberto Shinyashiki and Arthur and lots of guests, like Fernando Scherer; they coach you to get to your top performance, what’s stopping you from getting what you want, show successful cases, do a lot of regression exercises and other things to organize your mind. It’s orchestrated to be empowering as you’re surrounded by 3 thousand people. It can be used in your personal/social life, finance or business/career

I’m sure gonna check the books you recommended. I will recommend “Decifre e Influencie Pessoas” – Paulo Vieira and “O Corpo Fala” – Pierre Weil, if there’s a translation in English to have a better understanding of human beings. I do really like Jung’s Man and His Symbols and “About Behaviorism” by Skinner. If you haven’t checked them yet and are interested, do it. It’s a pretty heavy reading, but so enlightening. The human mind fascinates me!

Everything is so nice right now! I feel so happy. Hope you’re felling the same way too! This weekend I met so many friends and even went to Beco do Batman. I posted (and will be still) the pics in the other blog (if you search for the tag pp-epiphany, it’ll show). And if you ever revive your photo blog or create a photo Instagram account, I would love to see it, if you don’t mind! I made that blog to remind me of the good things I get to experience.

It makes me extra happy to hear you felt nostalgic (or as we say here: com saudades) the lead you to revisit your old blog! As always, I wish you’re having such an amazing time in this new life and that you never loose your brightness and shine at anything you put your mind to. Have a great day, even better week and a super duper amazing weekend. And if you enjoy Halloween, happy spooky season! Hope you go to a lot of parties and have fun!!! Ps excel sheets are the sexiest thing on pc. Period.

///

can’t believe it took me more than a month to reply ): i am genuinely so sorry but time passes by so fast! i will reply faster next time, i promise! but yes, don’t let people step all over you but also always remember to be kind haha. sounds contradictory but i think there’s a fine line and as long as you are aware and you’re happy then all is good. and yeah the power of positivity is amazing! i think people laugh at it but personally, it helps me a lot.

oh yes i’ve defo heard of roberto shinyashiki! did you find the course helpful? i’ve watched the netflix documentary on tony robbins’ course and perhaps because i wasn’t there in person, i didn’t feel its power. everyone interviewed really seemed to have loved it tho.

wahhh nice book recs and yes that is definitely some heavy reading hahaha if i ever find the time, i’ll look into those! i’ve been getting into audiobooks lately bc i find it easier to listen to books on my way to work so maybe if i find them on audible, i’ll give it a listen. same. love the human mind and all the things we do and don’t know about it

i’m glad you’re feeling happy and that you got to meet your friends and got to go to places. i’ve seen the pics!!! the artwork is amazing and i loved the pic you took of the flowers too :D i’ll defo let you know the insta handle when and if i ever make it HAHAHA. and my old blog is honestly just reblogs and not photos i’ve personally taken haha so it’s nothing great but com saudades indeed (”:

i hope all is well with you and that you’re very happy and loving life too! i didn’t do anything for halloween but definitely enjoyed the vibes and seeing the decorations all over the neighbourhood. people had crazy inflatables and all this amazing decor. it was great! and yes excel sheets are my life!!!!

i hope you too continue to bring happiness to those around you and also do things that make you happy and fulfill you!!!! :3 i know my replies are always late but please know that i 10000% appreciate getting these messages from you!

#replies #pp-euphoria #yikes i hope keep reading works!!!#lov u

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randomscenariosandwritings · 6 years

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FALL LEAVES AND AUTUMN THINGS

~Fall Leaves And Autumn Things~ NCT!Soulmate Au Thanksgiving Special

Parts Out---> Part 1// Part 1.5// Thanksgiving Special (This is the part you're staring at)//Part 2//Part 2.5// Part 3

A/N not a part 2 either sorry guys. But since it is Thanksgiving I decided to give you a little holiday special. It is actually important to the rest of the series (especially since it gives out a lot of names) but it isn’t very good since I wrote it all literally today and did not edit it in the slightest. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Also yes I know Thanksgiving is an American holiday, but I’m American and really wanted to write something more for you guys because part 2 has been taking me a while. Feel free to read it as a different holiday if you want!! I promise part 2 is coming!!!

Description: He was the sun and she was the moon and they were soulmates. Which was both a blessing and a curse. She needed his light and warmth and he needed her to reflect it back to him, but they were ever so distant, both unable to truly reach each other. He reached out for her every way he could, but only in his darkest moments could she ever be found.

Genre: Mostly fluff a little angst at the beginning.

Warnings: Swearing mentions of abuse and death

Word count: 2798 words

She had never had a full family Thanksgiving someone was always gone. When her father was still in their lives, before he'd packed his bags and run out screaming "I'm your soulmate I have to love you, but that doesn't mean I have to stay," at their mother, he was busy with work and very rarely made it home in time for dinner, working as a manager in a large company didn't give you a lot of time at home. After he left their mother had spent every Thanksgiving out on the town drowning sorrows until the year she threw herself off a building and her eldest sibling, her sister, spent the day outside of the house, she'd been around when the whole family was together and it hurt her too much to know he was gone and not because he was busy at work making money to keep food on their table. After her mother threw herself off of the top of a building her sister really stopped coming around and so did the elder of her two brothers. For years now it had only been her, Taeyong, and their aunt seated around the table, but most years she didn't mind. Thanksgiving was a time to be grateful and grateful she was for what she had. She was grateful one of her siblings stuck around and loved her, thankful for the food on the table, and her aunt who even with all her flaws had still raised them well and made an effort to be sober for at least a little bit of the day and made them the dinner that sat before them. So Thanksgiving still remained one of her favorite holidays, it reminded her who truly cared and reminded her that even though she'd lost so much, she still had a whole lot left.

He remembered a time when his whole family was gathered around the table. When his father would carve the turkey and his mother would smile and laugh. He remembered the sparkle in her eyes when she looked at his father and the gentle way they held hands while they ate. He remembered happy days and love, but even now that all that was gone he still had a lot to be thankful for. He was grateful he was still alive and that his mother was too. He was thankful that they still had each other and that she always took the day off from work even if she only took the day to sleep. He still loved Thanksgiving if only because it reminded him that they still had each other and she loved him even if she had a hard time showing it these days. He spent most Thanksgivings with his neighbors and some of their friends who were far from home this time of year attending university and unable to go home for the short break. He always invited his mother and sometimes she came and sometimes she didn't.

This year was one of the ones she didn't. "Mom, Taeil and his sister invited me over again, do you want to come?" He asked her gently this morning when she came into the kitchen to get some coffee.

"Not this time honey," She replied groggily and started to pour herself some coffee, but with shaking hands that wasn't a great idea. He walked over to her and helped her pour herself a cup. "Thank you, Honey," She said as he handed the cup over to her.

"No problem mom, did you want me to stay home this year, I can make us something and we can spend the day together?" He suggested softly as she took a sip of coffee.

"No, Honey, you should go have fun, don't let this old Debbie Downer bring you down with her, you're still young you should be enjoying life not taking of me like this," His mom replied and he could see the tears in her eyes as she took another sip of coffee.

"Mom, it's no problem really, I'd love to spend the day with you," He added softly stepping closer to her, she backed away.

"No, it's better if you spend less time here..." She replied turning away from him.

"Mom," He began and took another step towards her.

"Honey, please, it's better this way," She replied and he sighed and frowned at the older woman who he loved dearly. Her hair was graying and looked like pepper from all the stress she'd been putting herself under, her appearance haggard and worn out in every way.

"Mom, I know you didn't mean it, it's ok, you're just hurting and alcohol can bring out the worst in us," He said softly, knowing full well that all of this was guilt for what she'd done. "I love you, mom."

"I know honey, but that doesn't make it ok, I shouldn't have hit you at all much less treat you like I did, so go have fun with Taeil and his sister and their friends, I'll be fine," She replied turning to face him again and putting down her mug to reach out to him. He took her hands in his and pulled her into a gentle hug.

"Ok, I'll go, but not until I've made you some food," He replied and then ushered her out of the kitchen so he could get to work.

Once he'd finished making her a small meal he put it in the fridge for her to enjoy later and then walked over to his neighbor's house where he was greeted by Taeil who ushered him in kindly and proceeded to introduce him to everyone gathered there. He, of course, knew a few from past years, but Taeil had this habit of adopting people and so the group always grew and only shrunk after members got married or graduated and moved away. Some of the familiar faces were Sicheng or as everyone called him WinWin because he was a star and everyone knew it, everything about him was wonderful and well a win, he was from China and had started coming the second year, he'd been invited by Yuta, WinWin's soulmate from Japan who'd been here since the beginning as it was too hard to get home for Thanksgiving, Johnny the reason this even existed, he'd gotten sad one year when he realized he wasn't going to be able to go home for Thanksgiving and so Taeil had been putting this together ever since, Kun, another one from China whose first year had been last year and finally Ten a dance major from Thailand who like Yuta and Johnny had been here since the beginning. Amongst the new faces were Mark a new transfer student from Canada who'd likely be coming to these every year from now on, Lucas, another student from China who had been invited by Ten this year, and Chenle Taeil's sister's soulmate and yet another student from China, the two of them Chenle and Taeil's sister had yet to enter University but attended the same high school in the area, the very one he himself used to attend until recently him being just a bit older than the pair.

Thanksgiving was one of the few days where she and Taeyong didn't have to wake their aunt, she'd already been up getting ready for Thanksgiving dinner and nursing a hangover while she did it. So they'd help her and it always got messy one way or another. This year Taeyong started a food fight with the stuffing. It had begun with a mocking comment from his sister which he retaliated to with a handful of stuffing. She had responded with a comment about how immature he was and he'd responded with another fistful of stuffing... So, she'd grabbed the food item nearest her, which happened to be cranberry sauce and dumped it on his head before mashing it down into his hair.

"You jerk!" He'd proclaimed as some of it began to slide down his face. Then he'd grabbed the entire bowl of stuffing and started moving towards her. She ran. He followed chasing her until finally he tackled her onto the living room couch and dumped it on her head as well. She immediately shoved him off and then ran back to the kitchen to refill her stocks of weapons. This time it was eggs which she threw at Taeyong as he chased after her. Three ended up hitting his chest and covering his shirt in egg, but the other six all ended up on the walls and floor. All the while he was throwing mashed potatoes at her and his aim was much better.

By the time they finally called a truce the house was a mess of eggs, mashed potato, and other foods and they had food everywhere, stuck in their hair on their chests and legs and arms, Taeyong had a piece of carrot stuck behind his ear and sweet potato all over his back. She had a green bean stuck in her hair and fruit punch dripping from her shirt. They were both laying on the kitchen trying to breathe again as they sucked in deep breaths and panted slightly.

"If you had touched the pumpkin pie, you would be dead now, I hope you know that," She said softly turning her head to look at her older brother.

"Same goes to you, munchkin," Taeyong responded sitting up and leaning against one of the cupboards.

"At least the wild animals know enough not to mess with the pie," They heard their aunt mutter angrily under her breath and started busting out laughing. "Shut up you animals, go shower and change and then we can eat," their aunt said louder looking over at them with stern fondness, she was upset with them but clearly also amused and glad they were having fun. They nodded and stood up to go do as she directed.

"Hey, does Chenle have anyone to spend Thanksgiving with?" Taeyong asked as they ascended the stairs.

"Yeah, soulmate remember plus he's still in high school and his family lives in town, anyways apparently her brother does this whole huge thing with some of the college kids, he invited me to come, but for some reason I declined to hang out with you, look where that got me," She replied staring down at the blue shirt that had now been tainted by red punch.

"Mmm, what about Renjun and Jisung?" Taeyong asked as they continued up the stairs. "Come on, you know we have plenty of food and room for them," Taeyong suggested nudging her slightly.

"Well, Jisung's family lives here, again still in high school, so he's got that going, but Renjun is probably alone, I'll ask him if he wants to come over," She answered before kissing her older brother on the cheek and going off towards her bathroom to shower. On her way, she called Renjun.

"Hey, y/n, what's up, Taeyong being annoying?" Renjun asked as soon as he picked up the phone.

"Yes and no," She replied with a smile, "Do you have anyone to spend Thanksgiving with?"

"Well, Jeno and I were just about to come up with an excuse to decline Chenle's invitation, don't really want to interrupt the whole soulmate thing, ya know?" Renjun responded and she nodded for a moment forgetting he couldn't see her.

"Did you want to come over and spend it with my family, it would be a better excuse than whatever you two were going to come up with?" She asked as she grabbed a towel and a change of clothes.

"Yeah, sounds like a plan," Renjun answered after a moment of silence, probably used to confer with his companion Jeno.

"Ok, head on over now then we're just about to eat," She replied and then the two hung up.

Thanksgiving was fun, but uneventful for him until dessert came around, well except for when Johnny asked a question, looking between him and Taeil. "So are either of you ever going to explain what all this tramp stamp stuff is about?" Johnny asked and immediately he felt his cheeks and ears heat up.

"What?" He choked out slightly the blush very evident on his face.

"Mmm, yeah Taeil and his little sis here keep making jokes about a tramp stamp and the only explanation we've ever gotten is it's an inside joke about our neighbor," Johnny replied staring intently at the blushing mess that was this boy.

"I feel so betrayed right now," He said glaring towards Taeil and his sister who both just shrugged.

"It was funny, sorry man," Spoke the only female in the room with a shrug.

"I'm planning on getting a tattoo, so I asked my soulmate where she'd want it," He began but he was quickly cut off.

"And she said she wanted a tramp stamp?" Ten questioned in shock "Where can I find me a girl like this?"

"Y'know there's nothing inherently wrong or suggestive about a tramp stamp right? It's just a generalized idea that is both false and demeaning," Kun added frowning a little, not specifically at ten but about useless stereotypes.

"I mean the tattoo he wants to get would look best going straight across somewhere and she suggested three of the best places for that kind of look, plus it makes it more meaningful that it's not somewhere super visible," Taeil added, probably trying to make up for using it as a joke at his neighbors expense.

"Plus if she doesn't want a tattoo this might be her way of compromising, easily hidden and forgettable, but still there so she's being supportive of his desires even if she doesn't agree," Kun added after a slight lull. That was all they said on the subject and pretty much the only eventful thing regarding him at dinner. Otherwise, it was mostly a bunch of teenagers and college students being total dorks and crackheads as usual. At least until dessert rolled around and he had the best idea ever.

It was a totally normal Thanksgiving evening, with the exception of two extra persons in the house, when she fell off the couch despite the fact that she was carefully sandwiched in between Renjun and Jeno and it should've been impossible.

"What the hell?" Renjun said as she collided with the floor and sat up rubbing her head.

"Ugh, so the universe hates me," She answered and quickly explained that she could now also hear her soulmate's thoughts on the odd occasion.

"So what did he surprise you by speaking to you or something?" Jeno asked as she concluded.

"He screamed 'I have the best idea! OMG!' Really loud in my head," She replied rubbing her temples gently.

"Ouch," Jeno replied with little to no actual feeling in his voice.

"Thank you pumpkin spice cake and pumpkin pie," suddenly rang out in her head in his voice at a much quieter level and she couldn't help but pull a face of utter confusion.

"What did he say now?" Taeyong asked leaning forward in his seat endlessly curious about his otp.

"He's thanking desserts..." She replied before chuckling softly under her breath at how dumb her soulmate sounded right now.

"Y/n, your soulmate is one odd cookie, he's perfect for you," Renjun said looking at her with mixed expressions, confusion being the chief amongst them.

Then only a few moments later in his familiar handwriting words showed up on her skin, "So, you know how I've been trying out different nicknames/pet names for you, I've finally found the perfect one!" He wrote to her and then continued, "You'll be cinnamon, cause you're sweet but also not, you know, like cinnamon, does that make sense, you remind me of cinnamon so I'm gonna call you cinnamon," He wrote beginning to ramble slightly which she hadn't even known was possible. "Then you can call me sugar, cause I'm super sweet all the time and then together we'll be cinnamon sugar which is amazing and we'd have matching nicknames which is super cute," Her soulmate wrote again moments later and she sighed with a tinge of adoration in it.

"He's adorable," She muttered softly under her breath and chuckled lightly. "Ok then, you can call me cinnamon and I'll call you sugar," She wrote back with a soft smile on her lips and the three males in the room watched in amusement at the girl who was slowly but surely falling in love.

"YES!" Was the very next thing she heard in her head from him and chuckled slightly once again. He really was a cute boy whoever he was.

Neither of them stopped smiling for the rest of the night...

A/N Thank you for reading!! I hope you liked it!!! Let me know what you thought and who you think her soulmate is now!! Remember none of these gifs are mine all credit goes to creators and owners!! Hope you all had/are having a wonderful Thanksgiving or just a wonderful day!!

#nct imagines #nct 127 #nct u #nct dream #nct scenarios #nct 2018 #kpop imagine #kpop scenario #kpop soulmate au #nct soulmate au #soulmate au #the sun and moon #love #sm entertainment #angst #fluff

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zarcake-writes · 7 years

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Overwatch Thanksgiving

Hello everyone! Have a Thanksgiving themed fic. I’ll post this up on my Ao3 later. But I want those who celebrate to know one thing, family isn’t always blood. And sometimes, family is shit. Spending the holidays with friends is just as wonderful. Hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: some angst, mention of child abuse

It was Thanksgiving in America, and you were one of the few American’s at the Swiss headquarters. Usually the holidays you spent at home, but you were not able to head home this year. So, you and the other few American’s decided to celebrate the holidays together. No one could decide on what to make, so everyone was bringing a dish they grew up with.

Gabe was making homemade tamales. You had helped him make the tamales but when he was making the masa he made you leave the kitchen. Gabe claimed it was a family secret and the only way you could see was if you married him, he then winked at you and you swatted him. Jack was making a small turkey, you were bringing two pies, and Jesse… well you were sure Jesse was going to bring alcohol or some type of potatoes.

You arrived at Gabe’s apartment with two pies and dressed in nice clothes, you spent an hour in front of the mirror deciding on a dress or pants. You chose pants and pulled on a pair of black booties you loved so much. Jesse answered the door and gave you his typical grin, the young man’s eyes went wide when you saw what you were wearing.

“Howdy ma. You’re lookin mighty fine, I’m sure Gabe will be happy to see you,” he said. Jesse gave you a wink and stepped aside. You saw he was only in regular clothes, jeans his boots and a black shirt. You glimpsed his gang tattoo, you kept telling him to get a cover up. Seeing Jesse dressed so casual made you worry, did you dress too nicely?

“Hello sweetie. Where’s Gabe and Jack?” you said stepping inside and ignoring his comment, yet the blush on your face lingered.

“In the kitchen. Gabe’s trying to control the cooking, and is succeeding in pissing off Jack. What type of pies did you make?”

“Apple and pumpkin. Why is Gabe trying to control the cooking?”

“Gabe doesn’t trust Jack’s cooking. Afraid he’ll only try to use salt and pepper as seasonings,” Jesse snorted.

“Ay Gabe. I’ll head in there right now.”

“Let me carry those for you.”

Jesse took the pies from your hands and you followed him into the kitchen. Gabe and Jack were glaring at each other, Jack was pointing a turkey baster at him while Gabe had his arms crossed.

“You touch my turkey Reyes, and I’ll kill you,” Jack growled.

“Like you can,” Gabe scoffed.

“Easy you two. Gabe let Jack tend to his turkey,” you interrupted them. Both men looked at you and smiled. Gabe was wearing a nice button up black shirt with his sleeves rolled up with a tight pair of black jeans. Damn he looks good, you thought. Jack was in a dark blue shirt with a dark pair of jeans. They were dressed nicely, and you relaxed. Jesse placed your pies in the fridge and handed you a beer.

“There you are, take Gabe out of here before I kill him,” Jack said.

“It’s my kitchen!”

“Come on Gabe. Jack can cook poultry very well, I’ve had his chicken before,” you said. You grabbed the man and pulled him from the kitchen and into the living room. You gave Jack a wink and he looked relieved.

Jesse followed you three from the kitchen and to the living room where Gabe had some silly holiday movie playing.

“You look very nice,” Gabe said to you softly.

“You do too. I thought I dressed up too much, especially when I saw Jesse,” you said with a nervous laugh.

“Jesse under dressed.”

“Hey, I didn’t know what to wear,” Jesse said. You only smirked and watched the horrible movie Gabe had playing.

Several hours later and the turkey was done and everyone was sitting at Gabe’s table getting ready to eat. Jack carved the turkey and Gabe handed out his tamales and Jesse surprised everyone with his diced potatoes. Jack asked for everyone to say what they’re thankful for.

“I’ll start. I’m thankful for you three. Without you three, I would be home right now listening to family go on and on about corn and farm life,” Jack said. He glanced at Gabe who rolled his eyes dramatically.

“I’m thankful for the food on the table, the roof over my head, and the beautiful (Y/N), who graced us with her company today,” Gabe said with a wink. You blushed and shook your head at him. Jack and Jesse rolled their eyes at you both.

“I am grateful,” you started, “For you three, and all the wonderful things in my life. And for my heater, it gets cold here.”

“If you stayed with me you won’t need a heater,” Gabe muttered. Jack hit him and Jesse let out a laugh. You blushed harder and covered your face with your hand.

“What about you Jesse?” Jack asked.

“I’m… I’m thankful for the second chance I got a couple years ago and for the food on the table. I’m thankful for (Y/N), who is like a mom I never had.”

“Jesse you’re going to make me cry,” you said. You touched your chest reached for the young man’s hand, he only gave you a soft smile. It was true, you did look out for the young man like he was your own son.

After that, everyone dug in and began to eat. Jack’s turkey was wonderful and Gabe’s tamales were the best you’ve ever had. Jesse’s potatoes were delicious, he admitted he searched for a recipe and he blushed at the compliments.

After a while of eating in silence, Jesse asked, “What did you three do as kids on Thanksgiving?”

“We would go to my grandma’s house and eat. I would go to her house the day before and we would make tamales all day, it’s her recipe I used. We made red beef ones, green chicken ones, even sweet ones. We made enough that we would freeze them and have them on Christmas. Someone would usually bring a turkey or someone made enchiladas or chicken mole. It was always hectic and someone always got in a fight. But we all ate and we always said grace and what we’re thankful for,” Gabe said.

“We did something similar. But instead of Mexican food, we had typical white people food. My dad would barbecue his turkey, and he ruined it every year. My aunt would bring a ham, my grandma would bring like three different cobblers and my grandpa would bring the turkey he made. His wasn’t as bad as my dad’s but we ate both. We even had those adult and child tables. It was terrible and the last time I was there, my grandma tried setting me up with some random girl she brought,” Jack said. Everyone laughed at that.

“My mom asked when was I going to give her grandbabies. I told her as soon as (Y/N) agrees to go out with me,” Gabe said with a wink. You threw a piece of bread at him but laughed at him.

“What about you (Y/N)?” Jesse asked you.

“Before my parent’s divorce, the holidays were horrible. My grandma, from my dad’s side, wanted us to go see her and the rest of the family, but my mom hated my dad’s family. They argued and we stayed home. It got to the point where our dinners would be awkward and tense. My siblings and I were afraid to ask for anything because of how angry our parents were. After the divorce, my mom just stopped celebrating, but my dad was determined to make the holidays special. I remember one year, he bought a ham and he made a duck. We had potatoes and those canned yams with marshmallows and our grandma brought some pies. That was a good year,” you said with a soft smile.

“I remember those yams. My grandma hated them,” Jack laughed fondly.

It got quiet in the dining room, until Jesse spoke up. “I only remember one Thanksgiving that I actually enjoyed and hated at the same time. I went to a friend’s house one year and it was the first time I saw how a family should act. I was eight and he was my best friend and I loved his family, and for some reason they loved me. I remember seeing his family laughing and smiling, his dad wasn’t drunk or yelling at his mom. His mom wasn’t ignoring him and speaking to him harshly. His grandma kept handing me cookies and saying I need to get fattened up. He and I played in the back yard with his cousins and I remember how happy I was. I ate so much and I remember his mom sending me home with a plate of food for my mom and I,” Jesse said. His smile fell and you saw he grew sad and his eyes welled up.

“Jesse?” you asked softy. You glanced at Gabe and Jack, both glanced at each other.

“When I got home, I remember thinking that my mom is going to love this food and maybe she’ll smile at me. But, my dad was waiting for me. My dad was drunk and when he saw me walk in with food he… he went nuts. He threw the food against the wall, I still remember the plate shattering, and he screamed at me. Said my mom was gone, she just upped and left us. And where was I at? I was out getting free food. I remember he said a McCree never accepts free food. Then he beat me, he beat me good. When I woke up, the broken plate of food was on the floor and I was alone with a bloodied and bruised face. I remember not caring about my face or my mom, all I remember is looking at the broken plate and crying. I tried to glue it together and that night I left it on my friend’s front porch and I… I never hung out with him again and I never saw my mom again,” Jesse said softly. Tears were running down his face. You reached for his hand and took it gently.

“Jesse,” Gabe said softly. Jesse looked from your hand to Gabe.

“Yeah?”

“We’re your family now.”

“He’s right Jesse. Family isn’t always blood. Gabe’s my brother, and I would do anything for him. Same goes for you and (Y/N),” Jack said.

“We love you Jesse,” you said softly. Jesse looked at you three and wiped his face.

“You three are making me cry,” he said with a soft laugh. You smiled and held his hand tighter.

Jesse helped you clean up, and he hugged you tightly in the kitchen. You hugged him back and rubbed his back. His soft cries broke your heart and made you cry. After the hug, you served up the pie, which seemed to improve everyone’s spirits. Jesse happily had two slices of pie and ended up asleep on Gabe’s couch, Jack was asleep in one of his chairs. You smiled at both men and met Gabe in the kitchen.

“Hello hermosa,” Gabe said pulling you close.

“Hello guapo,” you said softly. You wrapped your arms around his body and laid your head against his solid chest. You were so full and so tired, you were sure you would fall asleep on him right now. Gabe laid his cheek on the top of your head and smiled softly.

A cough broke you both apart. Jesse was standing in the kitchen looking embarrassed.

“What’s up Jesse?” you asked.

“So, could we do this next year?” he asked softly.

“We can do it together, just us four. Or we could invite our other friends and show them what this holiday means to us,” you said softly.

“Really?” Jesse asked excitedly.

“Yes.”

“Gabe, could we do that?” Jesse asked.

“Of course,” Gabe smiled.

Jesse smiled at you both and grabbed the apple pie and walked into Gabe’s living room. You smiled up at Gabe, he kissed your lips softly. You both broke apart with a laugh when you heard Jack yell about Jesse eating all the apple pie. Gabe pulled you back to the living room to spend time with Jesse and Jack.

#gabriel reyes x reader #gabriel reyes #jesse mccree #Jack Morrison #reaper #soldier 76 #reader insert #self insert #my writing #hope you all enjoy!

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ofcloudsandstars · 7 years

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I’m working on Ostara posts! I think out of all of them its the one I enjoy the most I am unsure why (actually I like the mabon/ostara pair a lot), but I guess its because it’s so happy and vibrant and soft. I love egg hunts and making games surrounding it. I love the food spread and the colors.

It also took me some time to appreciate cause growing up I liked but also hated Easter. I loved the aspects of Easter that was just about celebrating spring and egg hunting and the tulips but I hated it cause I was such a sensitive kid and my mom used to take me to this church that was so graphic about the murder of Jesus it would disturb me for the whole fucking day lol. Like 3 hours of some old man droning in a dark church while the weather for the first time of the year outside is gorgeous and sunny then like a full hour of bloody pictures of this guy getting tortured to death then it’s like HE DIED FOR YOU ok go have fun hunting eggs you SINNING BITCH maybe if it wasn’t for your SINS he wouldn’t have been BRUTALLY MURDERED remember that while eating your peep mallows.

And also from the church’s perspective I find it weird and kind of disrespectful they mashed these two traditions up? Like that church was soo toxic I hated it I could go on about how they tried to brainwash the kids (they literally taught us in sunday school that nonchristians were barbarians lol, then I won’t go on what I witnessed in the teen sunday school when I was old enough to attend with my sister you could imagine) but like if you want us to mourn all day for this guy and our sinning nature don’t try to wash it down with an egg hunt after it feels so disingenuous lol. Easter is weird like that like I remember that one year that chocolitier got in so much trouble for blasphemy cause he made a chocolate statue of christ fucking suffering on the cross lmaoo why the fuck he thought that was a cool idea always goes over my head. The statue looks so terrifying y’all like who would even eat this it probably went to waste? It’s like this weird holiday of gore and suffering mixed with happy pastel egg hunting and my ramble is just that I am happy I can still celebrate the aspects I like without the horror undertones.

I mean its also funny how the sabbat pair has qualities to other holidays I find mortifying cause not to mention I love the autumn feast of Thanksgiving cause I love autumn foods but I abhorred how we celebrated the genocide of indigenous Americans over a feast? Like it just made the pumpkin pie super sour after lol. So I am happy I can have my own thanksgiving on the equinox which is more about the earth’s transition and the gratitude for all we’ve experienced the past year.

#sabbat rambles #personal

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pagans-dream · 7 years

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1. Honor the Ancestors Samhain is for ancestors, right? Why bother with it at Thanksgiving? Well, as a pagan parent I have some news for you: Samhain has another name, and the name is CANDY. Trying to balance the deep seated childhood drive to wear costumes and collect the freely given sugar goods with genuine veneration of those who have come before us can be difficult at best. I’ve joked with a lot of pagans that Halloween is Pagan Christmas. It’s a busy time. In my community we almost always have big Halloween parties for the adults, as well as costumes for the kids, visits to the grandparents for trick or treating events throughout the month, the Zoo Boo, not to mention the actual religiosity of the season with big Samhain rituals to plan for both adults and kids. It doesn’t actually leave a lot of time for building an ancestor shrine or talking to my kids about their own personal dead relatives. So a couple of years ago I came up with an idea. During October I focus on modern Halloween. We do costumes and candy, decorate the whole house with skulls and dead things. It’s awesome, and is it’s own version of Samhain. After the big candy-fest I switch gears like a pagan Martha Stewart Pro, tucking away the bats and glittery ravens decorating the house. You don’t have glittery cardboard ravens? You should. They’re awesome. That’s when I set up my ancestors altar. I get out the photos and the tchotchkes: a teacup from Buckie Scotland and one from Poland, my great grandmother’s rolling pin and if I have room, my grandmother’s wedding dress. I let the kids look at all the things. When they were younger I printed out copies of old photos on my printer and let the kids cut up the images and tape them up so we wouldn’t ruin the originals. We give them daily offerings for the weeks between Samhain and Thanksgiving, allowing them some special, uninterrupted, family time. On turkey day we make a plate up for the ancestors and give them a glass of wine too. It’s actually a really cool conversation starter with relatives because they often will tell stories I don’t remember anymore. Ancestors blend with a day that is supposed to be about family. After that, I allow the fat man and his green and red decorating scheme to sneak out of the basement and start to emerge into the household, but only after the ancestors get their time. 2. Learn about the Native American Tribes in your Area We all know the story. White man comes to new land. Red man decides to not let him starve in what was most likely a foolishly generous move. Yay for pilgrim hats and feather headdresses! Everyone loves each other. Except for smallpox and a few other minor details. Except for that bad stuff we like to forget about. As pagans we are often in the process of reclaiming indigenous religion. For myself, I focus on the Indo-European traditions. I do think that means we need to be supportive and respectful of indigenous peoples, especially the ones native to this continent many of us call home. Take a little time and let Google lend a hand to learn about the history of the tribes who live and lived in your home area. Realize that the history of the native tribes is complex, just like the history of the Gaulish Romano-Celts or the interactions between the Greek city states. Historically the Potawatomi, Ojibwe, and Odawa were the tribes living in the lower peninsula. Together they created the Council of Three Fires, which as a Druid and a fire priestess, I find pretty rockingly awesome! 3. Eat Local This one is kind of obvious. We’re pagans. Even if you don’t have an Earth Mother that you honor in your pantheon, you probably have landvettir, fairies, or agricultural deities that would appreciate you being kind to the earth. So find a local farm to buy a turkey from. Eat food from your bioregion. Learn how to turn a real pumpkin into pumpkin pie. (Pro tip: don’t use a pumpkin. Bake a butternut squash and use that. The texture and flavor will be way better.) Sometimes farmer’s markets will have one last huzzah just before the winter sets in so that people can pick up items for the holidays. This can mean that thanksgiving will cost more. Look at it as an offering to the land spirits and to your health as well. 4. Be With People You Enjoy I’m not going to advocate for going to a relative’s house to eat crappy food and feel hateful toward people you have nothing in common with. Sorry. I know that’s the thing we’re all told to do. If you’re planning on picking up a fifth of something alcoholic in order to survive turkey day, I would say skip it. Stay home and watch football or weird Christmas movies on Netflix if that’s your only alternative. However, I do think that there’s something better than both those options. Go somewhere with people you care about. If that’s actually the people who you are related to, great! Find a Thanksgiving that will bring you happiness. Go somewhere you will laugh with actual humor and not that fake forced thing that happens when you do not feel loved or seen as a person. Or better yet, host a Friendsgiving. This is something my husband and I have done for years. We put out an offer for any friends who don’t have someplace to go and invite any relatives that would like to come. It makes for a fun and lively bunch of people with a weird mix of traditions and stories. One year there was a menorah made out of Legos. One year we had five stuffings. Let Thanksgiving be the time when you take the stranger into your house and show them hospitality, which is, after all, a druidic virtue. 5. Practice Gratitude Life is a gift. Everything we are and everything we will be is fed from the lives of other beings. On this day of thanks giving, take a moment and be still. Close your eyes and allow yourself to truly ponder your existence and the existence of your loved ones. We humans like to live our lives forgetting how fragile they truly are. It’s difficult to know what to do in the face of homelessness, war, and sickness. It’s difficult to feel the pain that those things bring up within us, but that pain is essential. It is a gift, too. Let yourself just exist with it for a moment. Then open your eyes. Smell the turkey cooking; listen to the sound of voices. Look around you. Even the shabby things, the chipped dishes or the worn curtains that you need to replace are gifts. This life is a gift made of things found from the earth. Each plastic cup, every napkin, every fork and knife on that table was made through the work of people from the materials of this planet. Every bit of it is made from nature to be used and kept by people. Cherish your things. Use them well. Cherish your people. Use them well too. Be respectful and kind. Never forget, this is all a gift. Happy Holidays, dear reader. http://www.patheos.com/blogs/agora/2015/11/dandelion-seeds-five-ways-to-have-a-pagan-thanksgiving/?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=FBCP-PAG&utm_content=dandelionseeds

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pixiealtaira · 7 years

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Now We’re Cooking

drabbles and drawble for Advent 2016 day five: Christmas Cookies

Hummel Household centric

Christmas Cookies were a staple in the Hummel household. Burt seriously couldn’t remember a year where the house didn’t overflow with Cookies come December (and January and February. Lizzie baked when it was too cold to do things outside and that doubled when they had Kurt). The baking started in October with fall items and Halloween cookies and continued until it was spring and warm enough to spend time outside for longer than half an hour at a time.

Even the fall after Lizzie had died, Kurt baked. Granted, Burt was certain it was probably against every parenting book out there to let his 8 yr old use an oven by himself, but his 8yr old had the attitude of someone twice his age and had a point…he had been taking cookies out of over with supervision alone for two years and with help since he was three, he could do so at 8. (Burt also let him change tires with just the littlest bit of help and change the oil in their cars with just the littlest of help and run the cash register and Kurt did a lot of the work on the dirt bike engine Burt rebuilt for his nephew and most of the repair on the sewing machine they found for his use…so why not let him bake and use the sewing machine.)

He didn’t realize how much he missed the baking until it was almost Thanksgiving and Kurt hadn’t baked anything yet. In fact, Burt didn’t think he’d done any baking at all since before he and Carole got married. He thought part might have been because of the situation that sent Kurt to Dalton, but that was resolved around the wedding time and Kurt had been baking while he recovered before that. Granted he ate banana muffins and other healthy baked treats filled with fruits and vegetables, but they were all still baked sweets.

“Kurt!” Burt shouted as he stood in the kitchen. Kurt popped in from the living room where he’d been watching TV while Finn had friends over downstairs. Burt figured his boy was bored, since he was watching a show on the history of American sports, in particular Baseball. “Are you going to start baking soon?”

“I’m allowed?” Kurt asked.

“Of course you are allowed. Who said you weren’t?”

“Finn said I couldn’t because only his mom could bake here and Carole said I couldn’t because you didn’t want to temptations in the house.” Kurt said.

“When was this?”

“Two weeks ago…the weekend after the wedding when I called and asked if I could come home from Dalton and Carole said you thought I should stay until I’d been there at least a full week before coming home. It was a waste of gas money to drive home so soon.” Kurt responded.

“I thought you made that decision.” Burt said.

“No. I wanted to come home and see everyone I missed and cook and bake and pick up items I forgot and was missing. I thought I wasn’t allowed to.”

Burt grumbled. “Well, you are. You can come home whenever you want unless you are supposed to be in class. You can cook anytime you want. In fact, I’d really love it if you would cook dinner and bake for the next week. Just ignore anyone who tells you anything other than that. I’m even missing all the health stuff…all we’ve had is Spaghetti and chicken nuggets and beef roasts and not even ones cooked really well. I miss variety. I miss the experiments. I miss you cooking.”

Kurt hugged his dad really tight and ran into the kitchen. He pulled bowls and ingredients out and had the makings for his pumpkin chocolate chip cookies laid out on the counter before a full minute had passed. Burt heard the mixer start up and wandered into the living room.

He picked up the remote and changed the channel to an actual game. The football game graced the screen and Kurt started singing in the background as he made cookies. Burt reclined his chair and smiled. Things were now right in the house and soon the correct noises would be joined by the correct smells for the season.

“Can you bake some of those sugar cookies?” Burt called out. “Not the thinner shaped ones but those thick ones with the thick frosting like you can buy at the store.”

“Sure, Dad. But they will have to wait for this batch of pumpkin cookies and a huge batch of chocolate chip that can be eaten in mass by Finn and the guys. Oh, and I’ll have to find out what needs to be made for Thanksgiving. We will not be eating prepackaged mashed potatoes for a holiday.”

Burt’s smile got wider. At least Holidays might get back on track. He leaned into his chair and tuned into the game, watching enough to know what was going on but mostly day dreaming about Pumpkin pie and Apple cobbler and sausage stuffing and ham and turkey cooked just right…and a house filled with cookies.

#glee fanfic #advent #Kurt Hummel

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fuckyeahrp · 7 years

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[October Meme] 5, 9, 11, 12, 13, 33 :D

5. My ultimate dream Halloween costume

I’m one of those people that daydreams what I’d do for a cosplay if I had unlimited funds and time to make a very intricate and well done full outfit. I guess I’m sort of a flashy person that I wouldn’t want to necessarily do something simple with characters I love like Black Widow or Arya Stark simply because the cosplay or costume I’d do for it wouldn’t be involved enough. That said, my current dream costume would be a Jotun!Loki, all blue with long black hair, horns, red colored contacts, blue body paint, furs and gold and green clothing/accessories. I really love Loki’s character, in my mind he’s gender fluid with his ability to shape shift. I think Mystique would be pretty cool too, but like hell would I wear a blue skin suit only and a short red wig (movie verse Mystique at least).

9. Favorite classic movie/book monster

I know it’s so cliche but I really love vampires. I never really read or watched anything with Dracula in it (save for the one Halloween Supernatural special) so I won’t say Dracula specifically, but yeah. Classic monster - Vampires.

11. Favorite Autumn drink

I love hot chocolateeeee~ Oooh with marshmellows!

12. Favorite Autumn food/treat

I am morally opposed to everything that is American Thanksgiving, with the one exception that is my grandmothers amazing Thanksgiving dinner. Turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy and pumpkin pie. I’m making myself hungry right now just thinking about it.

13. What I’d love to carve into a pumpkin

I’m actually not a big fan of carving pumpkins. It’s such a mess and slimy and I don’t like the seeds for a snack or whatever. But were a pumpkin prepared, sitting out in front of me and I given a knife for carving, sure I’d carve it. I’ve been on a Game of Thrones kick for a while now, so maybe a dire wolf? Or some kind of half Arya Stark half Nymeria face. OH remember the promotional images for season 6 of GOT with everyone’s faces in like a mausoleum sort of set up (no spoiler description heh)? Were I inclined to carve like six pumpkins I’d do it with all the main characters faces from GOT. A face per pumpkin. Has anyone done that already? Now I need to google this.

33. If you could be any legendary monster, what would you be?

Hmm, something where I get to live forever. Or be able to compel people to do shit for me. A siren or a vampire would be fun I think. Well, maybe. Shape shifting would be amazing too, if it wasn’t painful and gross like in Supernatural.

#answered asks #asks #halloween ask #reportsduemonday

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justlookfrightened · 7 years

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Third part of Neighbors AU, Chapter 4, Nov. 23: American Thanksgiving

Read it on AO3

Read Chapter 1, 2, 3

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Eric said, bouncing on the balls of his feet while he waited for the traffic light to change. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Thursday,” Jack said. “I heard something about a holiday imitating Thanksgiving? But it’s six weeks too late.”

“Hush, you,” Eric said, taking off across the street as soon as the light was green. “It’s Thanksgiving morning and we’re hosting dinner for 12 and I’m out running instead of getting ready.”

“It’s 6 a.m.,” Jack said. “Dinner’s at 4. You’ve been preparing all week. And if you didn’t get out now you probably wouldn’t get any fresh air at all.”

“Dinner’s at 4, but people are coming for nibbles at 3,” Eric said. “We have to be presentable -- us and your apartment -- by then.”

“You remember who we’re having over, right?” Jack said. “Let’s see: three professional hockey players who aren’t from America, so they won’t care if every little thing is perfect. Three of your college hockey teammates and the manager, who lived in a house that was the next thing from falling down, according to your description. Not likely to be shocked by a dirty dish in the sink. And three guys who work with you making and serving food, and might actually be helpful.”

“Oh my gosh, I just realized, Lardo’s the only woman,” Eric said. “Jack, why don’t we know more women?”

“Lardo managed a hockey team, and she’ll be with Shitty,” Jack said. “She’ll cope. And we do know women -- they just aren’t social misfits with nowhere else to go on Thanksgiving.”

“Mr. Zimmermann!” Eric made sure his offended tone came through loud and clear despite his rapid breathing. “Don’t say that about our friends! I’ll have you know that we will serve a meal that would not be anyone’s last choice.”

“Of course we will,” Jack said. “It’s a mile back. Race you.”

They didn’t talk any more until they reached their building, Eric hanging two steps back until they were in sight of the door and then passing Jack just in time to touch the handle first.

“How do you always do that?” Jack groaned. “Don’t you get tired?”

“Not as tired as you, old man,” Eric laughed.

“Is this the first time you haven’t been home for Thanksgiving?” Jack asked while they waited for the elevator.

“Not even close,” Eric said. “Last year, I just cooked for the guys from the bakery, because we were only closed on Thursday and it wouldn’t have made sense to go home for less than 24 hours, even if I could have afforded it. And I made Thanksgiving dinner in the Haus for everyone who didn’t go home my last three years in college.”

“So what are you worried about?” Jack said.

“This is the first time I’m cooking Thanksgiving dinner for grown adults,” Eric said, leaning against the wall. “And it’s the first time we’re getting our friend groups together, at least outside of the Falconers’ locker room.”

“What was that we did with my parents last month?”

“That was their celebration,” Eric said. “Your dad did the turkey and everything.”

“My dad put the turkey in the oven when you told him to and took it out when you told him too,” Jack said.

“He carved,” Eric said.

“As have plenty of men who wouldn’t even know how turn their ovens on,” Jack said. “Besides, what adults? Tater and Poots and Snowy?”

Eric didn’t answer.

“Eric, I’m not sure if you know this, but they all really like you,” Jack said. “You think I got shovel talks from your family? We can’t break up, because if we did, my team would disown me.”

That made Eric chuckle, and he exited the elevator and headed straight to his apartment.

“Go shower,” he told Jack. “I’ll meet you back in your kitchen once I’m clean.”

“Wouldn’t it be more efficient to shower together?” Jack asked.

“No,” Eric said. “Not even a little bit. I’m onto you.”

“Then give me a kiss at least?”

“You’re all sweaty!” Eric said, but he turned back toward Jack anyway. “I’m all sweaty! And we’re in the hallway!”

“Our first kiss was in this hallway,” Jack said, pulling Eric close.

“Fine,” Eric said, the grumble in his tone belied by the shine in his eyes. He went up on his toes to kiss Jack. It was brief and almost chaste, and when Eric settled back on his heels, Jack’s eyes were just fluttering open.

“See you soon,” he said.

*******************************

Jack finished toweling his hair and pulled on track pants and a T-shirt. He might not have done Thanksgiving dinner with Eric before, but he’d cooked with him enough to know that comfortable clothes would be necessary, as would another shower. He could shave then, too.

Besides, after the playoffs last year, he suspected Eric liked his face a bit scruffy.

He hung the towel on the bathroom door -- he could use it again later -- and made the bed and tidied the bedroom, as he always did when they were expecting guests. You never knew when someone would need to use the bathroom when the guest one was occupied, or even when someone might want to lie down for a few moments.

When he emerged, Eric was sitting at his table with coffee and a bagel and a banana, a notebook open in front of him.

“You need some protein,” Jack said.

“I’m cooking two 16-pound turkeys later,” Eric said.

“And you need some protein now,” Jack said. “I’ll scramble some eggs.”

He broke two whole eggs into a dish, then added the whites of four more, putting the yolks into a container and dating it with grease pencil Eric had installed in a holder on the refrigerator. Whisking them with a little milk and salt and pepper only took a moment, and he was setting a steaming plate in front of Eric five minutes later. Jack carried over his own plate, with eggs and toast made from Eric’s whole wheat bread, and prepared to listen.

“If we want to eat at 4, the turkey should come out of the oven at 3:30 or so,” Eric said. “I’m gonna break the birds down, so I can get all the pieces in the oven here, if we use two roasting pans, but we still need to be ready to put them in -- at least the breasts -- two hours before we want them done. Before that, we should have all the vegetables ready to go, and the pies. I can do two at a time in the oven in my apartment, but it would be nice to get one in here before the turkey. Then when the pies come out down the hall, we can put the dressing in. I think the rolls can go in with that, or at least overlap a bit. The dressing is pretty forgiving on temperature.”

“So what’s first?” Jack said.

“Cubing the bread for the dressing and getting that all together. I wanted to make two kinds. Then the pies -- maple apple, cranberry apple and maple pecan. Then making sure all the vegetables are prepped and breaking down the turkeys,” Eric said.

“Why are we cutting the turkey up first again?” Jack said.

“Because it cooks faster and we can start the breast first, and then add the thighs and legs later so it’s all cooked more evenly,” Eric said. “Don’t worry, there’ll still be plenty of drippings for gravy.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Jack said. “About that. I am a bit disconcerted by the amount of butter in my fridge.”

From that moment on, it seemed like Eric never stopped moving. Jack had seen him like this before, of course, but it was impressive nonetheless. Bread was toasted and cubed and mixed with flavorings and stock, sausage was browned and crumbled for one batch of dressing, dough for rolls was kneaded and set to rise, potatoes and carrots were cleaned, pie crusts were rolled and filled.

“Wait, Eric,” Jack said. “We’re not making a pumpkin pie?”

Eric grimaced.

“I have one in my refrigerator from the bakery,” he said. “We can warm it for dessert. But after this week at work, I simply could not face another pumpkin pie. Or turkey-shaped sugar cookie, for that matter.”

Jack -- somewhat reluctantly -- learned to cut a whole turkey into breasts, thighs and legs, and wings, although Eric said the wings weren’t good for anything but stock.

Yellow potatoes were boiled, sweet potatoes scrubbed and baked, cranberries simmered with sugar and orange peel.

Eric went back and forth between kitchens, using Jack’s for prep work and putting finished items on his own counters, shuttling pans between the ovens. Jack just tried to keep up.

At 2 p.m., pies out, turkey and dressing in, potatoes just set to boil, Eric picked up the baking sheet with the rolls and said, “I’m gonna pop these in and shower while they bake. If you wanted shower again, now would be a good time.”

“OK,” Jack said. “I suppose I should shave, too.”

Eric looked at him, ran a hand up his jaw, and said, “Not on my account.”

Maybe not, then.

****************************

“Hot buns, coming through!”

“Holy shit, Bits, is that you? I’m so proud!”

Shitty turned away from Jack’s door as Eric came down the hall from his apartment bearing two large baskets of rolls, each covered with a linen napkin.

“Did you hear that, Lardo? Our Bitty and the double entendre.”

Shitty pretended to wipe a tear from his eye.

Lardo reached up to knock, but Eric said, “It should be open.”

Then he remembered that Jack was going to shower too.

“Um, here, hold one of these?” He thrust a basket into Lardo’s arms and pulled Jack’s door open part way. He stuck his head in, heard Jack moving around the dining table, and opened the door all the way.

“Shitty and Lardo are here,” he announced.

Jack came to meet them at the door, taking coats and offering drinks. Shitty handed him a bottle of wine and hefted a case of beer.

“I just put some snacks in the living room,” Jack said. “Make yourselves at home.”

Eric took the coats from Jack and went to lay them on the guest room bed while Jack stowed the drinks.

“Anything we can do, Bits?” Lardo asked.

“Um, maybe set the table?” Eric asked. “The tablecloth and the plates and all are there.”

Eric’s phone buzzed and he found a text from Holster.

“Ransom and Holster are here,” he said. “I’ll call down for Henry to let them in.”

He did, then went and opened Jack’s door and waited for the elevator to arrive. When the door opened, it was’t Ransom and Holster who came out first. It was Poots, Snowy and Tater, with Holster and Ransom bringing up the rear.

Ransom’s mouth hung open as he followed Tater, making Eric smirk.

Tater came right to Eric and surrounded him in a warm embrace.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Eric,” he said, his deep voice and accent making it sound exotic.

“He said happy Thanksgiving!” Ransom was saying in a stage whisper to Holster.

“You, too, Tater,” Eric said. “I hope you like everything. Poots, Snowy, welcome. If you couldn’t be home today, I’m glad you could be with us. Jack’s right inside.”

As soon as the Falconers were inside, Eric found himself sandwiched between the two former Samwell D-men.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Bitty,” Holster said. “It’s been a while.”

“Too long,” Ransom said.

“I’m glad y’all could make it,” Eric said. “I’ve missed you guys. Come on in and get comfortable. I just have a few more things to take care of and we can eat. We’re just waiting on my bakery assistants.”

Eric ushered them in and introduced them to Jack (“Adam Birkholtz, better known as Holster, and Justin Oluransi, usually called Ransom, Jack Zimmermann who has no nickname.”) and went back to the kitchen, putting the salad together and pouring the cranberry sauce into a cut glass bowl. The turkey was almost done, maybe another ten minutes, and the baked sweet potatoes were ready to come out.

His phone buzzed again: Dex, arriving with his roommates and coworkers. Eric called down to the doorman, then said, “Jack, honey, my hands are full. Can you open the door? Dex just texted that they’re here.”

Jack left Tater with Ransom and Holster to explain the rules of American football and headed to the door.

The three young workers came up together.

“Hey, Jack,” Chowder said. “Everything OK? Sorry we’re late.”

“You’re fine,” Jack said. “Eric says everything is almost ready. Let me have your coats.”

Derek Nurse handed him flowers.

“My mom always said never to show up empty handed,” he said. “And none of us can buy liquor yet, so.”

“Uh-huh,” Jack said, remembering that Poots was underage in the U.S., too. “I think we have a selection of sparking water.”

“Oh, hush, Jack,” Eric said from the kitchen. “The boys can have a glass of wine with dinner if they want. They won’t get drunk.”

“Yes, mom,” Dex said.

“Now you hush,” Eric said.

“Seriously, what can we do?” Dex said.

“Dex, sweetheart, it’s your day off,” Eric said.

“Yours too, Bitty,” Chowder said.

“Fine,” Eric said. “Jack, you entertain our guests, please? Chowder, you start carrying food to the table. Dex, can you slice the turkey while I make the gravy? Nurse, you take the lids off and make sure we have all the serving utensils we need. Maybe see if anyone wants anything besides wine or water to drink?”

“Wait -- I don't get to carve?” Jack said.

“Honey, it's already in pieces and we're slicing it in the kitchen. It'll be fine.”

They whole group was sitting down at 4:05, and Eric looked around the table at the assembled guests, surprised to realize that all of them were his friends. There were Ransom and Holster, who insisted to the Samwell coaches that he should stay on the team, whose constant but gentle physicality had helped him more than they knew; Shitty, the first person he had ever actually come out to, equal parts enthusiasm for his friends and indignation at the injustices he saw; Lardo, whose quiet presence had been a lifeline for years. They got on with the Falconers like all of them had been teammates, although Ransom seemed a bit starstruck. Which, really, Ransom? One of the most beautiful men Eric had ever met, hockey captain and 4.0 student who was deciding between taking a promotion at his job and applying for med school after a two-year break? His boys -- the bakery staff -- started out quiet, but they were jumping into the conversation as the meal proceeded. And Jack. Beautiful Jack, looking happy and comfortable as he listened to Holster chirp Ransom and Shitty hold forth on the damage toxic notions of masculinity did in professional sports.

He caught Lardo’s eye, returned her silent toast and sipped his wine as he watched them all absolutely demolish the meal he and Jack had worked so hard on.

*********************

Jack couldn’t believe how fast the meal Eric had worked so hard to create was gone.

It wasn’t like everyone shoveled food in their mouths without regard for table manners or ignored conversation. Actually, for a table full of mostly hockey players, they’d been downright civilized, asking for dishes to be passed, chewing with their mouths closed, complimenting the chef.

But still, a scant 30 minutes after Eric had taken his seat -- which was taken as a general signal to begin eating -- plates were empty and the table that Lardo had turned into a work of art was a wreck.

And Eric was jumping up again, starting to collect plates and flatware. “I’ll just put some coffee on, and we can have pie in a little while,” he said. Somehow, his voice was still bright. “Feel free to move into the living room. I’m pretty sure there’s still football on.”

“Why don’t you sit and talk with your friends?” Jack said. “I can get the coffee. You’ve been going since six o’clock.”

“Which is like an hour and a half later than most days,” Eric said. “And you’ve been helping every step of the way.”

“It’s not the same,” Jack said, prepared to insist that offering an extra pair of hands didn’t compare to taking full responsibility for the biggest American meal of the year.

“You make me feel lazy,” Tater said. “Jack, you come turn on coffee. Then you sit down. Poots, you help me clear table. Eric, you do no more work until coffee is ready. Then you cut pie.”

“Who’s the captain here?” Jack said, getting up to start the coffee anyway. “And why just Poots?”

“I’m not telling goalie what to do,” Tater said.

“Fine,” Jack said, fixing a look at Snowy. Snowy and Poots both stood and started picking up plates.

Eric took a seat on the sofa, with Justin and Adam on either side.

“Looks like you found a keeper,” he heard Adam saying.

Jack felt a little smug at that, as he had seen more than a couple of looks directed his way by Adam, who was bigger than Jack and still looked like he was in hockey shape. They weren’t exactly unfriendly looks, more evaluating, Jack thought.

Adam clearly felt protective towards Eric -- Justin too, Jack thought, but that wasn’t as obvious. Eric had told him that both of them insisted that he stay on the hockey team when he was ready to quit because of his fear of being checked, and that the way they acted around him helped him deal with physical contact in daily life.

“It was like they were overgrown puppies,” Eric had explained. “They were obnoxious all the time, not just to me, so it never felt like I was singled out. Even after they found out I was gay.”

Once the coffee maker was gurgling, Tater shooed Jack out of his own kitchen, and Jack went, taking a seat on the floor with his back against Eric’s legs. He let the conversation between Eric and his former captains pass over his head while he listened to Shitty try to get Lardo to talk about the new piece she was working on. She might be almost as reluctant to talk about herself as Eric was.

Listening to them, it struck Jack that both of them sounded like they were from New England. Shitty went to school in Cambridge, and with that accent, he had to be from Boston.

“You guys don’t have family around here?” he asked.

Shitty stopped talking and looked at him. After a pause, he said, “Depends what you mean by family, brah. Sometimes families of choice are the best you can do.”

Merde. That wasn’t a question he should have asked, and his mother would have his head if he knew.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. You don’t have to answer.”

Lardo reached out and nudged his foot with her toe.

“Seems like we invaded your apartment, so it’s only fair, right?” she shrugged. “My family’s Vietnamese, and they celebrate Thanksgiving kind of, but it’s not really such a big thing for them. And they kind of don’t get me, trying to be an artist when I could be a doctor or a nurse or something with a guaranteed paycheck. And I have to open the rink tomorrow, because I gave everyone else the morning off. So it was just easier to stay in Providence, since it wasn’t going to cause any big problems for me to miss dinner with my parents.”

“And my parents are divorced, and I’m pretty sure each side thinks I’m with the other and is relieved that I’m not with them,” Shitty said. “Works for me, because any meal Bitty cooked is going to be better than whatever caterer they got this year.”

Jack nodded, and said, “Eric said he couldn’t go home because he has to work tomorrow.”

“Dude,” Lardo said. “If you don’t know this yet, maybe I shouldn’t tell you, but Bits is home. He didn’t go to his parents because you were going to be here.”

*************************

By 8:30 p.m., everyone had gone home, the last load of dishes was in the dishwasher and everything else was washed and put away.

Eric curled in the corner of Jack’s couch with a slice of pecan pie -- his second of the day, but as dinner fell at 4 p.m., he hadn’t had supper, so he thought he was entitled.

Jack was half-lying across the couch, his toes pressed up against Eric’s thighs.

“Tired?” he asked.

“Mmm,” Eric said. “A bit. It wasn’t really that much more than a day at work, to be honest. Just a little more … I don’t know.”

“Different because it’s Thanksgiving and it’s a big deal?”

“Not really,” Eric said. “More just the people?”

“I thought I was the one who didn’t like people,” Jack said, deadpan.

Eric tickled his foot in retaliation.

“I want to do a good job for them,” Eric said.

“You know my whole team likes you,” Jack said. “And I’m pretty sure your friends do too.”

Eric groaned and put his plate to the side.

“I know, I know,” he said. “But it’s been months since I’ve seen Ransom and Holster, and it was the first time they met you, and what if they changed? What if they thought I changed too much? And maybe I shouldn’t have invited Shitty and Lardo. Maybe then they would have gone to their folks. But I know Shitty really doesn’t like spending time with his family, and Lardo wanted to stay close to home.”

Jack sat up a bit more and opened his arms, and Eric crawled over to him so Jack could wrap him up.

“I know everything went fine,” Eric said. “And I had a good time, a great time, even. I didn’t notice any drama to speak of, and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. And it was different the way everyone looked like a grown-up, with slacks and shirts that matched and shoes that weren’t sneakers. I didn’t even have to tell Shitty to wear pants, and no one suggested playing flip-cup. But it was OK. They still all seemed like themselves. I don’t know your teammates as well, of course, but they looked comfortable, too, so that was nice.”

Jack nodded. Eric had looked happy, watching everyone tuck into the food and then relax together.

“It’s just when it’s over, I don’t know, I get kind of melancholy, I guess?” Eric said. “It’ll pass. I’m sorry.”

“Hush, lapinou,” Jack said. “It was the best American Thanksgiving I’ve ever had, and I’ve got the biggest thing I’m thankful for right here.”

He squeezed Eric tighter for a moment.

“It’s hard when things change, even when you want them to,” Jack said. “The new thing can be good, can be just what you wanted, but it’s still different.”

“What do you mean?” Eric asked.

“Last year at Thanksgiving, you were just my blond cute neighbor who I spent way too much time wondering about,” Jack said. “Now you’re my boyfriend, and we’ve met each other’s parents, and we’re introducing our friends. It’s a lot, eh?”

“Yes,” Eric said. “Last year at this time I was trying desperately not to think about having to find someplace else to live. I think I displaced those thoughts by dwelling on the gorgeous hockey player who lived down the hall.”

“See? Some things are the same,” Jack said. “I still have a cute blond neighbor, and you still have a gorgeous hockey player living down the hall.”

Eric giggled and reached up to kiss Jack’s chin, rubbing his lips lightly against the stubble he found there. “More gorgeous every day,” he said. “And pretty smart too.”

“I’ve had lots of therapy,” Jack said. “It helps.”

Jack adjusted his position so he could kiss Eric properly, then kissed behind his ear in the place that always made Eric shiver, and down his neck.

“Y’know, you don’t have to wait for an invitation to stay here,” Jack said.

“I live just down the hall,” Eric said. “And I have to be up early.”

Eric moved to expose his neck a little more.

“I know,” Jack said, kissing at the other side. “But that’s too far. And I probably won’t see you all day tomorrow anyway. We’re taking a team bus up to Boston in time to get there for morning skate, and we won’t be back until late. Stay, please?” He lowered his voice into a seductive tone. “I’ll be very grateful.”

Eric couldn’t choke back a laugh at that.

“Enough,” he said. “I’ll stay. Lord knows I want to. But only if you stop with the cheesy lines.”

“I don’t know,” Jack said. “They seem to be working. Made you laugh, didn’t I?”

#my fic #zimbits #omgcheckplease #omg check please #neighbors au

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