#whatever. another chicken pot pie will fix me

[nitroish]

one plus two isnt three if you've no value

[idreamofplaid]

In Search of a Happy Ending

Square Filled: Cooking Dinner for @spndeanbingo & Head Cannon for @girl-next-door-writes Make Me Feel Bingo

Characters: Dean x Reader; Sam mentioned

Rating: Teen

Summary: Dean is ready to do whatever it takes to have his apple pie life.

Word Count: 1607

A/N: Thank you first for your friendship @dean-winchesters-bacon and for your beta read on this fic. I know I can rely on you for “Dean accuracy”. 

From the moment Dean said “Sam’s gone to a museum thing in Kansas City,” you knew he was up to something. 

“What kind of museum thing?” Your eyes narrowed at your boyfriend of seven months, but there was also a huge smile spreading across your face. 

“Some kind of ancient Roman artifacts or something,” he answered while he stirred the pot on the stove. Sure Sam liked that sort of thing, but you’d never known him to make a weekend of going to a museum by himself, which conveniently left the bunker all to you and Dean.

You peeked inside the pot that Dean was pretending had all of his attention. He was making a red sauce. The smell of the basil and oregano he’d added to it made your mouth water. In a pan on another burner, he was sauteing chicken. The biggest surprise of all was the chopped up carrots and broccoli he added to the chicken. This was not Dean’s usual fare.

That made you even more pleasantly suspicious. “Want to try a taste?” Dean dipped the wooden spoon he was using into the sauce and blew on it to cool it down before holding it to your lips.

The sound you made was something similar to orgasmic, and your eyes closed to fully savor the flavor. “Dean, that’s amazing.” You opened your eyes and licked your lips. Dean smiled, clearly pleased you liked it, and there was the kind of happiness in his green eyes that once had rarely, if ever, been there. Things were different now. Chuck had been neutralized. Jack was in charge of the known universe, life had gotten much simpler, and with all these changes; Dean had finally allowed himself to relax.

You walked behind him and circled your arms around his waist, easing your hands underneath the bottom of his t-shirt. Dean’s stomach was one of your favorite parts of his body. It was soft, but you could still feel the strength of the muscle underneath. And that summed up Dean nicely. Soft and strong.

He was moving the chicken around the pan with a spatula, and he laughed. “You keep doing that, baby, and I’m never gonna finish cooking this dinner.” 

“What? This?” you asked innocently, running one of your hands slowly up his torso to his chest. You’d chosen to go up instead of down, because if you’d done that it would have been all over, and this was clearly important to him.

Dean put down his cooking utensils and turned to you. He kissed you, his lips sweet and firm. “Yes. That. I promise I’ll take care of you real good later, but let me feed you first.” 

Dean liked his food. That was no secret, but he liked sex more. So, what was up?

His hands slid below your waist to hold your hips, and his eyes held yours. Each time you saw them it felt like you were touched even more deeply by the intensity and beauty you found there.

Dean’s eyes scanned your face, and you smiled. “Go sit at the table. Food’s almost ready,” he told you with a quick kiss to your lips. 

The plate Dean sat before you not only smelled divine; it looked good too. He had clearly done some research about food presentation. When he put a bottle of wine and two glasses down on the table, you knew something monumental was about to happen. Chicken and vegetables? Now wine?

Dean pulled out the chair across from you and sat down. You’d suggested the boys replace the industrial cafeteria style table with some real furniture to make the bunker seem more like a home, and they had agreed. You were still getting used to seeing Dean sitting in a wooden chair that was house worthy and at an actual table. He popped the cork from the wine bottle and poured you a glass. Wine with a cork too?

You sipped your wine and took a closer look at Dean. He was wearing that red shirt that made your heart flutter and your walls clench. It was somewhere between plaid flannel and an FBI white dress shirt on the fanciness scale. Was he trying?

That’s when you noticed Dean was looking at you too. Was he waiting for you to take a bite of your food? Waiting for you to say something? You couldn’t tell. So you cut a piece of chicken and put it into your mouth, along with a sugar snap pea. 

“It’s good, Dean. Delicious actually.” He seemed to relax a little. What was going on with him?

You took another bite while Dean drank his wine. He had relaxed some, but something still seemed a little off, so you attempted to make conversation. “How long has Sam been planning this trip to the museum?”

“It was...uh...kind of a last minute thing.” Dean still hadn’t touched his food.

You put down your fork and looked at him intently, trying to read him. Dean dropped his eyes.

“Dean, what’s going on?” You reached across the table and put your hand over his, offering him reassurance about whatever it was he was carrying.

He raised his eyes back to yours and started slowly, “Y/N, there’s something I want to tell you.”

You curled your fingers around his thicker ones to hold his hand. “Okay, Dean. You know you can. Whatever it is.”

His tongue slipped out over his lips, wetting them. “There was something I did a long time ago.” He shifted a little in his seat. 

“I...fixed myself. I mean...there was something that happened.” Dean looked uncomfortable enough that it made your heart hurt. 

“There was this one hunt and…I met a woman. Only, she wasn’t a woman. She was an Amazon. I got her pregnant, and it was... a weird Amazon pregnancy.” He waved his hand around in the air and sighed.

“The...the baby was born a couple of days later. I... had a daughter, but Sam... killed her.” Your mouth fell open.

“Sam killed a baby?” Dean’s eyes darted to yours.

“No.” He was shaking his head. “No. She grew up as fast as she was born. Sam had to kill her because she was a monster, and she was going to kill me.” Dean hung his head and let go of your hand. “But she was still my kid.”

Dean’s words were falling out of his mouth unchecked. He was telling you things he’d never said before, things that helped explain more of who he was.

He brought his eyes back to yours, and what you saw in them was heartbreaking. “I never wanted anything like that to happen again, so I made sure it wouldn’t.”

You reached for his hand again, so you could hold it. You needed to hold it. “Dean, are you telling me you got a vasectomy?”

Dean clutched your hand, glanced away, and finally ventured a glimpse back at your eyes. “Yeah. But not anymore. I mean I undid it. I can...you know.”

He was so adorably flusterd it made you love him even more. “You had your vasectomy...reversed?”

Dean sighed deeply. “Yeah. That last hunt didn’t last quite as long as I told you it did.” He licked his lips. “I can...I mean I couldn’t ask you to marry me if I couldn’t give you children.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart swelled with more love than you had ever thought it possible to feel. Your heart was also pounding; you weren’t sure how to take what Dean had said.

“Dean, I...” Your fingers moved nervously over the back of his hand. Now he was the one asking you to trust him, needing you to love him.

He stumbled over his words, and it was delightful to see him so ruffled. “I mean I’m going to ask you to marry me better than this. It won’t be in the bunker kitchen. I’ll do it right. You deserve more than this.”

You stood up, walked around the table, and sat in his lap. You snuggled your face into his neck, needing to feel the closeness. Your smile was so wide you could feel it, and your heart was nearly bursting with joy. 

“Dean, are you saying you reversed your vasectomy for me? That you want to have babies with me?”

“Yes.” He was so cute when he wasn’t his usual cocksure self. 

You brushed your fingers slowly through his short, soft hair. “I love you, Dean Winchester.”

His lips were soft when you touched them with yours, and when you pulled away; his eyes were even softer. “I want to give you anything you want, Y/N. But I can’t. Not yet. I mean...I have to wait. Doc says I’m healing. I can’t...But I can still make you feel good.”

You kissed his forehead and then his cheeks. “Come to bed with me, Dean. There’s plenty of time for all that later. I just want to hold you, feel you hold me.”

Dean stood and took your hand to lead you back to his room. You left the beautiful meal he’d prepared on the table.  The chicken could get cold; the chicken didn’t matter. All that mattered was your love for each other.

He’d done it for you, thinking about a future with you, and that was what mattered. That, and the fact, Dean had basically just said he was going to ask you to marry him. All the hurt of the past could be put to rest. You’d make him happy. You would. 

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @heycasbutt @jules-1999 @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @mrs-meghan-winchester @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @sea040561 @dawnie1988 @volleyballer519 @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @daisymoder72 @sorenmarie87 @lovealways-j @deansotherotherblog @mrswhozeewhatsis @spnbaby-67 @wayward-and-worn @asthesunwentdown @vulgar-library @thinkinghardhardlythinking @calaofnoldor @petitgateau911 @deanwanddamons 

Dean/Jensen: @deansyahtzee @flamencodiva @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @focusonspn @akshi8278 @ladywinchester1967 @sgarrett49 @wingedcatninja @coffee-obsessed-writer​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @ellewritesfix05​ @weepingwillowphoenix​

[wriggleum]

Your Hand In Mine

on AO3 ! Summary: Jack wants to cook dinner for Bitty because he realizes that he's never properly cooked him dinner before. prompt: Jack cooks dinner for @jackzimmermannturns30​ Words: 8819 Chapters:1/1 Rating: G Relationship: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann Warnings: Concussions

“What’s wrong? Did I mess up the recipe? My hand kinda slipped when I was seasoning the chicken and I dropped a lot of paprika in the bowl. I thought I fixed it?” Jack had been staring at his plate for what was most likely an awkward amount of time after he had taken a bite of chicken breast. But Jack was just stuck in his head. He had a thought earlier during breakfast. Bitty cooks for him all the time. He makes dinner for them whenever they’re together and if Bitty isn’t around Jack can always just heat up one of the premade meals stocked up in his freezer. Bits is just amazing like that, and he insists that it’s no trouble at all. The thing that’s getting to Jack is the fact that he’s never cooked dinner for Bitty. It’s been bothering him all day, during his run, all through practice, at the gym and when he came home and took his nap up until he hit the ice. It’s not that Jack can’t cook, he can cook just fine. He’s never actually followed a recipe before. His mother taught him how to cook chicken at one point, and he can follow packing instructions perfectly. His food may lack seasoning most of the time —he became aware of that fact at some point his sophomore year, Shitty broke it to him gently after a few bites of whatever he made for dinner that night— salt was pretty much the only thing he had in his cupboards before he met Eric. A spice rack was one the first items Bitty added to his kitchen when he visited for the first time over the summer of his second year. His kitchen has never been the same. Despite the lack of seasoning in his food, it gets him fed and full. His meal plan didn’t allow for much variety. Jack had never minded it. Yet for a while it was eat to bulk up, and eat to keep him going. Then Bitty came in and ruined it all for him with his pies. Jack will be reluctant to admit he’s snuck away with a few extra slices of pie in the middle of the night while he was living in the Haus. At least he’s not living off of takeout like some people he knows. So yes Jack can cook, but he honestly doesn’t know how he survived without Eric’s cooking for the years that he did. His baking is next level, that's a known fact of life, but his cooking is just as good. Meanwhile Jack's cooking looked like lukewarm high school cafeteria food compared to Bittys carefully thought out dishes. The fact is Eric is always cooking for Jack and Jack feels kind of bad about it. It’s not like Bitty isn’t busy with his (second!) book and the Youtube channel and then he goes and insists on cooking for Jack or prepping meals for when he’s off doing bookdeal stuff. So Jack is going to take it upon himself and make a meal for his husband. It’s really the least he could do for him.  Looking back down at his plate of perfectly seasoned chicken breast —Eric’s mistake not noticeable at all— surrounded by flavorful green beans and cauliflower. It was all so good and exceeded anything Jack could have made for himself without a recipe. “Bits, there's honestly nothing wrong with the chicken. It’s perfect actually.” Eric squints at him from across their plates. “Ok then why do I feel a but coming?” “But,” Jack chuckled. “You’re always cooking for me. Us.” Jack stabs a bit of green bean and chicken onto his fork, stuffing it into his mouth, chewing for a bit and swallowing “You’ve been so busy Bits and you’re still cooking dinner for us and baking and going all over the place and I don’t know.” Jack paused and took a sip of water gathering himself. “I feel bad.” An outraged look crosses Bitty’s face for a second. He scoffed and says, “You made breakfast for me the other morning! You grill all the time during offseason!” “Scrambled eggs and a toasted bagel can hardly count compared to what you end up cooking, and that takes minimum effort.” Jack gives Bitty a long stare, “Also you season and marinate the meat whenever we barbeque. Here I thought you of all people would understand that premade chicken tenders and a homemade lasagna aren’t the same thing.” Jack goes to eat another bite from his plate but then says, “Also I meant dinner. You’re always cooking dinner. When was the last time I actually cooked dinner?” Bitty takes the time to honestly think about it but looks up at Jack sheepishly a moment later. “That’s what I thought. If you don’t want to cook we just end up ordering take out or we go out somewhere.” Bitty rolls his eyes at Jack, “Well, you’ve got a point there hun I’ll give you that.” They go back to eating, Bitty’s dinner playlist playing softly in the background. Then Jack has a thought. “I’m going to cook dinner for you.” he looks Eric in the eyes, “As soon as possible.” Bitty looks like he’s trying really hard not to laugh, Jack pouts. “Oh honey, that's real sweet of you, and I would love that! Don’t get me wrong.” he picks up his glass of water and tries to take a sip to hide his suppressed laughter but fails. “I’m not laughing at you ok, so please stop with that face. It was just you were so serious about it.” Bitty giggles and grabs Jack's hand next to his and smiles brightly at him, “I really would love to have whatever you cook up!” “Ok so what do you want?” “Oh you know I’ll have whatever!” When Jack doesn’t respond to that, Bitty rolls his eyes again and pulls out his phone and starts tapping away. “Oh ok, ok. I’ll send  you one of my Pinterest boards and you can choose something from there, how about that?” “I would really appreciate that. Thank you Bits.” Jack's own phone pings and he smiles down at it. He saves the link to the board to look at later and goes back to polishing off his plate. *** The next day after practice Jack is sitting in the nook scrolling through the Pinterest board Bitty sent him titled Quick ‘n Easy: Beginner Friendly Recipes. When Jack first saw the board he looked at it a bit suspiciously. He couldn’t think of a reason as to why Bitty would have a board of recipes for beginners. It would make more sense if it was for his Youtube but the board itself has no baking recipes in it. Bitty must have had it already made because he had sent it when Jack had asked, and there were a lot of recipes already in it. He’d have to ask Bitty about it later. Now, Jack was struggling with what to choose. Did he want to with the easier option of a pasta dish, or did he want to do something like a steak with a couple of sides to go with it? He really wanted to cook Bitty the best dinner he possibly could. Apparently Jack was stressing about choosing a recipe harder than he thought because the first thing Tater said when he sat down next to him was, “What is matter Zimmboni? You look as if you are making big life decision. You talk to Bitty yet?” Snowy who sat down across from them chimed in, “Yeah man I don’t think you can stick your phone any closer to your face without it becoming a part of you.” Jack suppressed a sigh. Might as well come out with it, these two sure as hell won’t leave him alone without Jack saying something. “I’m going to cook dinner for Bitty.” “Ah, you cook for little B! What are you cooking?” Tater wiggled in glee, peaking over Jack's shoulder to glance at his phone. Handing his phone straight over to Tater, Jack poked at his packed lunch —prepared by none other than Bitty. “That’s the problem.” Jacked sighed, “I don’t know.” “What is it, an anniversary or something?” Snowy asked. “No it’s just Eric is always making dinner for us and I just want to cook dinner for him for a change.” Jack explained. “Ahh gotcha.” It was silent for a second but Jack felt the brunt of Snowy’s piercing stare. He didn’t say anything but Jack could see it in his eyes when he looked straight back at him: what the hell Jack, you don’t cook for your husband? When he’s not only been cooking for you, but he brings in plates and plates of amazing baked goods for the team? Really Jack? For shame. He could hear it clearly in his head in Snowy’s smooth drawl. When Snowy looked down at his own food, breaking the eye contact that went on only for a second or two, Jack chastised himself. Snowy would never seriously say something like that. Chirp him to hell and back? Oh for sure. Jack snapped out of it when Tater exclaimed, “Oh Zimmboni! Cook this, is perfect!” Tater wiggled the phone in Jack’s face. Taking it back he looked down at the screen, it looked like it was no longer on Pinterest but rather on a blog post. Snowy snorted, “Oh yeah? Or is it just something you want to eat?” “Of course I want to eat, if I want to eat it is going to be good for little B!” The two chirped back and forth while Jack scrolled through the blog. It was a blog post with several other recipes in it. There’s a lot of text, the post going on and on about the bloggers family —something about a family reunion?— with so many pictures of people and food. By a photographers standpoint it wasn’t actually that bad. The composition was actually quite nice, and the lighting in all the shots was beautiful. Jack mentally noted to go back to the blog again later but for now he went back to looking for the recipe that he still hadn’t gotten to despite scrolling for a good bit. “So?” Tater looks over to Jack with an eager look. “Euh, what was it you wanted me to cook?” “What! Zimmboni please.” Jack gives his phone back to Tater, feeling a bit like he just was scolded. Tater quickly scrolled through the blog straight to the recipe and showed it to Jack. “This one! It sounds good and looks very easy.” The recipe read, One-pot lemon shrimp pasta. The dish was only five ingredients and the instructions themselves fit into one small paragraph. That seemed simple enough but it also sounded really good. Jack made sure to bookmark the page when Tater handed his phone back to him. “Send updates. I want to know how it comes out.” “Sure Tater, I’ll send you updates.” Snowy snorted between a bite of sandwich, “Can you even cook Zimmerman?” Jack quirked an eyebrow, “Can you?” Snowy said nothing but gave Jack a slight nod of his head as if to say touché. It was a fact that all the Falconers knew, something that Tater brought up constantly, is that Snowy can’t cook to save his life. At least Jack can fend for himself tasteless as his food may be. He really hoped the shrimp pasta was as easy as it seemed. *** The next day Jack facetimed his mother after practice. “Maman, I need your help.” “Oh?” Alicia raised a perfectly plucked brow. Jack explained the situation and Alicia nodded and hummed appropriately. In the end she smiled that superstar smile, all genuine and glimmering white. A twinkle of mirth in her eyes. “I think that’s wonderful. If anyone deserves a home cooked meal it’s Eric.” Jacked nodded in agreement, because that was a very obvious statement. Bitty deserved everything. “But what is it exactly that you need help with? Want me to talk you through the steps?” Alicia ginned. “No maman.” Jack rolled his eyes playfully. “Just. Do you think it sounds good? And Should I add anything else to the food, or on the side? What about drinks that go with it? Should I even bother making a desert or should I just buy it?” “Jack, sweetheart. The recipe sounds delicious. You’re going to have to make it for your father and I next time we visit. And you can’t go wrong with a dry rosé.” Alicia hummed a bit, thinking about Jack’s other questions. “You could add some bread for the side. Perfect for soaking up the pasta sauce. I think you should go to that bakery Eric is always going on about, and maybe get some dessert while you’re there. But I wouldn’t stress about all that, Eric knows you’re not a baker.” Jack thanks his mother for the advice and after the call ends he heads out straight to the store to pick up all the ingredients. Before heading into the grocery he stops by Bitty’s favorite bakery and asks about pre orders and says that he’ll keep in touch. At the grocery store Jack texts his mother a picture of the bottle of wine he picks out  just in case; he gets back a string of thumb up emojis and a longer string of various hearts. The recipe called for linguine but he knew Bitty didn’t really prefer it so he stood in the aisle looking at a box of bowtie pasta and a box of penne. Why in the world are there so many types of pasta? In the end he chucked in the penne into his basket because a mother was giving him a mean side eye for taking so long. Thankfully he didn’t have any other issues with getting the other ingredients, so the rest of the trip went a lot quicker. At home Jack put what he could of his supplies in a box and stuffed it in the pantry, the rest went in the freezer and the fridge wrapped up so Bitty couldn’t tell what it was. It wasn’t long after that Jack found Bitty poking around in the pantry. “I’m only looking for flour Jack. Why would I snoop when you told me not to? How could you accuse me so.” he said, thickening up his accent and looking playfully aghast. Jack jokingly shoved him away from the pantry, “Move along Bittle we both know you keep all of the flour in the cupboard.” “Hmm really? I guess I do, don’t I Mr. Bittle-Zimmerman. My apologies I’ll be making my way along to the cupboards then.” *** After all that Jack was sucked into the world of hockey. The playoffs were right around the corner and the Falconers were doubling down in preparation for it. They had a good chance of making it through. So Jack promptly forgot about cooking dinner for his husband and was in full hockey robot mode. Bitty was just as busy with his second book, and he knew how Jack got during the playoffs so he didn’t mention anything. After all, if he really wanted Jack would have all the time in the world to cook when the offseason came around. *** It was an earlier night than usual for Jack. He had to be up extra early for a flight to Pittsburgh and wanted to get enough sleep so that he wasn’t wound up for the whole plane ride. Bitty was getting ready for bed, brushing his teeth in the bathroom. When he hopped into bed and kissed Jack goodnight it was minty and sweet. Before he drifted off into sleep he had a feeling that he was forgetting something. *** They’re a second game into the playoffs, and It’s a home game. It’s warm ups, the national anthem, and then the puck drops. A Penguin wins the face-off and Jack is right behind them. It’s give and take the whole first period, Thirdy gets a pretty goal from the blue line hitting the net right behind the goalie's shoulder. But a Penguin scored one right after, keeping them 1-1 for the rest of the first period and well into the second. Each team took shot after shot on the goal but none were going in after those first two goals from each team. It’s when they come back onto the ice for the third period that it all goes to shit. Jack has the puck and is on his way into the offensive zone, he’s got a huge Penguin on his heels (number 85) and he’s trying hard to push Jack toward the boards. Jack clenches his mouth guard and takes a quick look around to see if anyone is near to pass the puck to. He gives the puck away at the last moment, but Jack was too close to the boards when 85 slashes him with his stick on the outside of his right leg, taking his skates right out from under him and with the speed they were both skating at there was no way to stop 85 from crushing Jack right into the boards. Jack wasn’t sure if he heard a whistle or not, but he was already falling. His shoulder hit the glass first and on the way down his head hit the edge of the dasher board, helmet catching and flying off. His temple hits the ice and it all goes black for a second. When he opens his eye the lights from the rink are blinding and for a very long second Jack panics and then he’s aware of pain and everything blows up around him. He can hear Tater cursing in russin, he already knows he probably has 85’s jersey in his large fists. Thirdy is asking how Jack feels, and he can only blink at him slowly and then he’s cursing as well. Jack isn’t exactly sure how long it takes, but at some point the team doctor is out on the ice blocking his view of the rafters asking him too many questions. What hurts? Everything. Can he move? Sure, but he doesn’t want to. Finally, he asks if Jack needs a stretcher and Jack says no so the trainer and Thirdy help him up and help him across the ice, players around them tapping their sticks on the ice and against the boards. He’s nauseous the whole way across the ice and it takes everything in him not to spue across it. His head is pounding, his ears are buzzing, and the world is spinning. It’s nothing like the smaller concussion he got while in the Q. He’s been lucky so far, but he guessed it was bound to run out at some point. After Jack is off the ice things get a little hazy, the last thing Jack wants to be at the moment is awake. Bitty is looking frantic and now Jack feels guilty and he has a pounding headache. The trip to the hospital is pretty unmemorable to him, and while at the hospital the haze isn’t as bad he’s still having a pretty terrible time. Jack goes through all the necessary procedures, takes too long to answer a few of the doctor's simple questions and promptly gets shoved into an MRI machine and then he’s waking up in a hospital bed, the lights are off. Bitty is sleeping on the most uncomfortable looking couch in existence next to his bed, and he’s really hating 85 right about now. Jack takes stock of himself. His head is unsurprisingly still pounding, he lifts a hand to graze at his temple and it’s tender as hell. Probably already bruised up. His shoulder is stiff, twinging with the slightest movement. And most of all he wants to sleep for a good solid month. Jack tries moving a bit but after his body screams at him he decides he’ll just wither away in the position he’s in at the moment.A gasp to his left shocks him and he winches when he jumps a bit at it. “You’re awake!” Bitty was off of the couch in a blink and next to Jack holding onto his hand in moments. “How’re you feelin’ hun? I know it's probably terrible.” Frowning, Jack thinks back to when Bitty was sprawled on the ice helmet feet away from him. The terror he felt. It’s unfortunately a part of the game and can happen to anyone but Jack still feels bad about the undoubtable stress Bitty probably went through having to watch what happened to Jack from behind the glass unable to get to him. “Sorry Bits.” Confused Bitty responds, “What for? If anyone has to be sorry it’s that 85.” “It’s ju-” Jack was cut off by the doctor entering his room. She explained the situation to both Jack and Bitty but Jack wasn’t really paying much attention. The pain behind his eyes was making it hard to concentrate. Apparently he has a grade 3 concussion and at some point during the hit he popped his shoulder in and out. They want to keep him overnight for observation. Jack was going to protest but thought better of it when he saw Bitty’s glare. Jack would have rolled his eyes if it didn’t cause him pain, so he closed them instead raising the cheap hospital blanket to his chin. Bitty continued to talk to the doctor, their voices a low whisper. Tabarnak, Jack thought. He was out for at least a month, maybe two. Meaning he was done, he was officially out for the rest of playoffs. At least he had more than enough time to heal. He must have dozed off for a few because when he came to again the doctor was gone and Marty was handing a bag off to Bitty. Marty had retired the year prior but hangs out with everyone whenever he’s not busy with his family, and gives Tater pointers from time to time since he handed off his A to him. “Whenever you’re ready to leave you guys just give me a call and I’ll pick you up.” Jack wanted to thank Marty but one second he was blinking and when he opened his eyes again —with great reluctance— he was gone and a nurse was checking out the machines next to his bed, a soft light making its way through the shut blinds. Bitty wasn’t on the couch next to him but the nurse saw him looking around and said that he had only left a few minutes ago, so that left Jack to deal with the nurses poking and prodding him after what felt like zero hours of sleep despite knocking out for a while. He hated hospitals and he hated being incapacitated. Jack knew he was a horrible patient, but he’d always been like that. Though he thought he was polite enough to the poor nurse who had to deal with him. For breakfast they gave him some bland soup and crackers that Jack didn’t really want to eat, but Bitty came back just as they were rolling in the cart, a cup of steaming cafeteria coffee in his hand. He gave Jack a look and it was enough that he begrudgingly slurped at his watery soup. A quick visit from the doctor and some tests later and Jack was free to go home. Not without explicit warning from the doctor and nurses to not strain himself and to listen to their instructions. To get the frown off his face Bitty read the texts from the Falcs and the old SMH hockey team telling him to get well soon, as they escaped by way of a back door straight into Marty’s car to make a clean getaway. “You know the drill.” Bitty said as soon as they made it home, the door locked behind them. Jack sighed, he did in fact know the drill. It was drilled into him by several people in the hospital and as well as Marty on the way home. “Bits. Bud. I stink. I still have to shower.” Jack felt grimmy. He never got to shower after the game and on top of that he has hospital all over him. Bitty scrunched up his nose, “Yeah. You reek.” A quick shower later with Bitty keeping watch on the toilet who gave him a play by play of the rest of the game after Jack’s exit. He was honest with him back at the hospital when Jack asked how the team fared after his exit. Short answer was that Falcs lost in regulation, 1-3 (in the end the Falconers advanced to game six without Jack, they fought hard but it wasn't enough and they lost it all in the next round. It’s hard to lose when you’re so close, but Jack found it especially difficult not being there for his team when they needed him the most).   Jack went straight to bed after his quick shower, his mattress felt amazing after laying in the lump of a thing the hospital made it’s patience lay in. He was staring at the ceiling thinking about all the things he wasn’t able to do when Bitty came in a few minutes later, a bowl of steaming something in his hands. “Chicken soup! You definitely need to get something in you, I have no idea what they tried feeding you back at the hospital but it definitely shouldn’t have the right to be called soup, let alone chicken soup.” Bitty was handing it off to Jack his fingertips barely grazed the bowl when it hit him. It was so sudden that Jack physically recoiled, shocking both Bitty and himself. “Bits!” Jack gasped, pulling his hands back. Bitty pulled the bowl back towards himself, almost flingling the contents of it all over the both of them. “What oh my god I didn’t think the bowl was that hot!” Shoving his face into his hands he groaned, “I was supposed to cook dinner for you!” Setting down the bowl of soup on the nightstand on Jack's side he let out a long d’awww, “I wondered how long it would be until you remembered.” He gave Jack's upper arm a little squeeze. “I think you get a pass from cooking. You were all busy getting ready for playoffs and then actually making it to the playoffs! And well...” And he waved a hand over Jack. “Considering your bedridden figure ‘n all. Plus that terrible looking bruise on your head.” “But Bitty it was supposed to be a thing. I even bought everything ahead of time. I was even going to pre order bread from your favorite bakery. I talked to them and everything. Why didn’t you say anything?” Jack only felt slightly betrayed. “Don’t you worry about cooking for me mister!” Bitty scolded, “You had this idea come into your head when playoffs were creeping up right around the corner, you know how you get during this part of the season. And well you just worry about getting better and then you can make me dinner whenever you want.” Picking the bowl of soup back up Bitty hands it off to Jack or he tires to and is unsuccessful because Jack is crossing his arms and pouting in bed like an overgrown toddler. “Oh my god!” Jack harrumphs. “You infant!” Bitty is trying really hard not to smile. “You giant manchild! Are you seriously refusing my soup? Do you think I won’t tweet about this?” Bitty wipes his smile away, putting on his most serious expression. “Eat the damn soup Jack.” he says, making it sound like a warning. “What are you going to do if I don’t eat the soup?” Jack smirks back. Bitty mutters under his breath, “Geez for someone with a serious concussion…” and then he trails off and says louder. “Jack you don’t wanna play these games with me. Not only will I call you mother, who I was assured will come down with the drop of a hat, your father in tow. But I will call Shitty as well.” How quickly Jack uncrossed his arms and grabbed the bowl of soup had Bitty stuffing his laughter behind both of his hands. “My own husband on the cusp of betrayal.” It was Bitty’s turn to smirk. *** The first week Jack caught up on a lot of sleep and listened to one full audiobook read outloud to him from his laptop that he carried from room to room when he felt restless and was sick of lying in bed. That was all he could really do. Listen to his audiobook for a few minutes a time, rest, get up, walk around the house, get a terrible headache, nap, repeat. And worst of all he wasn’t allowed in the kitchen when Bitty was around. Which at the moment was all the time. Jack has never wanted to cook a meal so badly, he was so excited to be able to do something for his husband who works so hard. But Bitty refused to let him cross the threshold between the dining room and kitchen, even if Jack claimed it was just for a glass of water. To which Bitty would then say, “You have a glass and a water bottle and a gatorade next to the bed.” and then Jack would turn tail and lay under the covers because the bright natural lighting from the kitchen was stabbing his eyes like knives. Without hockey, or TV, or physical books Jack was bored out of his mind by the second week. The bruising around his temple had turned a sickly shade of pale greens and brights yellows and browns. The headaches were still there but definitely not as bad as the week prior. But he still wasn’t allowed to do much of anything, especially with Bitty keeping like a sentinel; Guardian of the Kitchen. Jack could admit himself he was getting restless and he was definitely being a grump at times. Bitty thankfully didn’t take his shit moods and would sweetly tell Jack to take a nap if he was going to be ill-tempered, or to take up knitting or something to keep him occupied. After a few days into the second week of The Concussion, Jack was waking up from a mid afternoon nap and was on his way to the kitchen to be a bother when he overheard Bitty talking to someone in the living room. Jack peaked his head in and waved to Bitty who was talking on the phone, pacing back and forth barefoot on their extremely soft white (fake) fur rug. Bitty waved back absent mindley and then did a double take, glaring at Jack he did the I’m watching you hand motion and then pointed sternly at the couch. Jack shrugged and plopped right down in the middle of their couch wrapping a plush throw blanket around himself, catching the rest of Bitty’s conversation. “You know I would love to and I would hate to cancel but Betty, I don’t think I can go.” And nope. Jack had a hunch on what this was about and Jack was definitely not letting Bitty cancel.Getting up from the couch Jack stood in front of Bitty who gave him a curious look. Jack looked right at him and whispered, “Go!”. With a furrowed brow he shook his head, while Jack nodded his. “Yes! Go! I can take care of myself just fine. Bits, go to your convention.” Jack whispered. Bitty bit at his bottom lip, thought about it for a second and then told his agent. “On second thought Betty I think I will be able to make it. You can go ahead and confirm!” The yay! That came from the other end of the phone was loud enough for Jack to hear as he fell back onto the couch. When Bitty hung up with the date and hour of his flight to California written on a notepad, he put his hands on his waist and gave Jack a very squinty glare. “Want me outta your hair don’t ya?” Chuckling Jack pulled Bitty down onto the couch hugging him but then unwrapped the blanket from himself, rewrapped it around the both of them and then slinked his arms back around Bitty. “No Bits. But you have stuff to do and just because I’m not working at the moment means you stop working too. I don’t want you to miss out on all of these opportunities you’re getting!” Bitty went to protest but Jack cut in before he could say anything. “I know you rescheduled a meeting with that publishing company in New York the other day.” Bitty tsked, but then he hugged Jack tightly back. So they came to an agreement and Bitty was on his way to LA by the end of the week. And Jack thought he was bored before. But at least got to practice the dish he was supposed to have cooked for Bitty. Instead he invited Tater over who had a lot of input with how Jack prepared the food and cut vegetables. But he was always good company even when he was nagging over Jack's shoulder the whole time he was cooking. “‘S very good!” Tater hummed as he chowed down on Jack's creation. “Have to facetime Snowy, show that Zimmboni can cook.” “Were you guys seriously doubting me?” “Yes.” Came from Taters phone that he was pointing at his own half eaten plate of pasta. Jack took his own to wash having finished while Tater chattered, shaking his head on the way to the sink. By the third week Jack is still bored out of his mind, but at least Bitty is back, the downside is that he’s really doubling up on his youtube content in anticipation of his second book release. He’s doing several collaborations. He actually already did a few while he was in LA and he’s been editing every day hunched over his laptop at odd hours because he still refuses to hire someone else to do it for him. Jack had forgotten that one of the collabs was with the Falcs social media team, filming something for his own channel and a second video for FalcsTV. So when he walked into the kitchen one Saturday morning and saw the kitchen in full Bitty-Is-Recoriging mode with the addition of Poots, Tater, and Snowy. Jack was actually surprised and thankful he had actually put on pants because his teammates would never let him live it down for walking around half naked in his own home. Unfortunately Jack was having a major headache that day so he only stayed for some hellos and a snack before he retreated back into the bedroom for the rest of the day. He was feeling a little better by the time Bitty came in ready for bed, cuddling up to him and falling asleep in seconds, breath ticking the back of his neck. The fourth week was an improvement from the previous ones. Bitty was away again finalizing book deal stuff so Jack was home alone. But Jack was finally able to do some reading and light trainer approved workouts with the approval of his doctor after a follow up. Now that he had something to occupy his time with he was not only feeling better physically but also mentally. Best of all was the fact that Jack was able to get onto the ice, with the stipulation of not overworking himself. But the sooner he was on the ice the sooner he could get with his personal trainer, and get his ass kicked into shape again. He has to get his stamina back up though, a few circles around the ice and he was definitely feeling it. It would only be another few weeks until Jack was able to officially get to work on putting his body back into shape. By the time Jack was good to go he was hopping on a plane to Quebec for a quick trip to see his parents. He was getting call after call from his father complaining about not knowing what his face looked like anymore— despite several facetime calls. Jack told him he could come down himself and his father said, “I’m getting old Jack, I’m tired of traveling. I've done it my whole life you’ll understand when you get to my age.” “Ok old man I’ll fly up.” “Hey!” Bob protested at being called old by his son, when two seconds ago he was just complaining about getting old. Jack had to shake his head at that. In all honesty the second his father mentioned a visit to his old home Jack was already pulling up listings of flights and had bought a ticket while his dad was blustering on about how good he looked for his age or something like that. Jack had tuned him out a bit. A month and some weeks out of commission, stuck at home with not much to keep him entertained and Jack was itching to get out. Jack would be back home in Providence in time for his birthday —so would Bitty who was still out… doing something Jack wasn’t too sure but he knew it invloed the new book and a possible show? Bitty was being very hush hush about it. He said he didn’t want to jinx anything. Jack wasn’t supposed to have heard that particular conversation but he was in the room first when Bitty answered the phone, so that was all on his husband. It only hit him while he was out having dinner with his parents and they asked him what he was planning for his birthday that he was like huh. Jack is turning thirty. The big three-oh. In reality Jack wasn’t bothered by turning thirty, he was still plenty young. In the hockey world though, it made him sweat a little. He learned not to pay attention to the media long ago, but he still has bad days and when several outlets ragged on about how he’s past his prime years he can’t help but let it bother him a little. He was on the phone with Bitty when his birthday came up again. “So did you want to do anything special for your birthday? We both get back on the 1st right? We can plan something out if you want. We haven’t really had time to talk about it huh?” Bitty’s voice crackled through Jack’s phone. On the screen Jack was getting a spectacular view of his nose and all the hair inside it. Jack laid back onto the overstuffed pillow his mother kept in his old bedroom, having changed it long ago to a guest bedroom changing out his old twin to a full. “I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about it. It’s just another birthday you know? I think I’ve done all there is to do. Or at least all I’ve ever really wanted to do birthday wise.” Bitty shifted, propping his phone up against a pillow or something because now Jack was able to see him from his head to his chest. He was fluffing up pillows and getting comfortable for bed, laying down to face Jack fully. He looked at Jack sideways from his current position laying down. “What about tigers?” “Tigers?” “Oh yeah tigers.” he said with a serious tone "Thirty is kind of a big deal, you’re no longer twenty. I think that deserves a wild party with some tigers.” “Nah, I think that’s more of a fiftieth birthday type of thing.” Bitty paused but then went, “Hmmm Ok then!” Not long after that they said their goodnights and when Jack’s screen went black he squinted at his reflection with an inkling of suspicion. “He’s definitely trying to plan something.” *** It was late but he was back home, suitcase in hand Jack was dead on his feet. Never more glad to be home. He was greeted by the smell of freshly baked pie and if Jack listened closely he could hear his bed calling to him. But first. Bitty. He was sitting at the dining room table typing away at his laptop with a plate left only with pie crumbs next to him. He must have heard Jack walk in because he immediately closes his laptop and turns around with a blinding smile and holds his arms out for a hug that Jack was already going to give. “Welcome back handsome.” Bitty said into Jack’s chest. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.” Jack smiled, “You’ve been busy.” he passed a hand through Bitty’s freshly shaved undercut. Sighing, Bitty losend up in Jack arms, “Yeah it’s all been a bit hectic but I’ve got some exciting stuff coming along.” “Anything you want to share with your loving husband?” “I don’t want to say anything just yet!” “Ok, ok! Well if you’re done here want to get to bed?” “I would love nothing more.” *** Jack sleeps in the next day, he decides that morning the first time he wakes up to take the day off from his morning run. The second time he wakes up it’s because Bitty is getting out of bed, he kisses Jack’s forehead and then Jack out again. The third and final time Jack wakes up it’s because he’s being crushed. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY BRAH!” Jack shoves Shitty off from him and gives him an icy glare. “What the fuck Shits? And my birthday is tomorrow!” “I know.” Jack exhales loudly and gets out of bed. No use in trying to get anymore sleep with Shitty around. In the kitchen he finds Lardo and Bitty quietly conversing, pie dough rolled out between them and Jack is so sure that a pie is already baking away in the oven, even if the smell wasn’t a dead give away. The day is filled with a lot of pie and catching up. The only time they’ve had recently to talk is the odd facetime call and whenever Lardo and Shitty had time for a game or two in Boston. Shitty is busy with his firm and Lardo has been getting huge commissions from a few major companies so they’ve all been fairly busy with life and being adults. So it’s nice to take a day to talk, have a couple of beers and eat a few pies while screaming at each other over Mario Kart and Smash. It’s later at night when they’ve just finished watching 1917 —Jack’s been wanting to watch it but kept on forgetting about it until Lardo mentioned it when they were all throwing suggestions for movies— that Shitty says. “Hey we’re going out tomorrow for a little bit, just you and me. Two bros out in the town.”   Jack laughs out loud and replies, “Sure Shitty.” And the following day at nine in the morning Jack wakes up with Bitty in his arms, his steady breath hitting the side of his neck and he's officially thirty years old. Bitty makes him special birthday pancakes for breakfast —they’re really just maple blueberry pancakes, and everyone else is having them too— and Shitty insists that they pop a single candle in his stack and sing him happy birthday. When that’s all done and they’re all full, Shitty slaps Jack on the back and tells him to get ready. On their way out Bitty gives him a tight hug, Lardo gives him one too that’s less constricting and then Jack is in Shitty’s hands. Shitty’s first stop is at the historic downtown area in Providence where a cluster of vintage stores crowd both sides of the street. They both take their time visiting each store, looking through them and all they have to hold. In one of the stores dedicated to mostly just vintage clothing Shitty finds a horrendously patterned disco shirt, it’s made of a material that squeaks. “Lardo’s going to kill me if I let you bring that home.” “Brah, if I have to wear clothing it might as well be clothes that speak to my soul.” Jack walks out of the store as Shitty is forking the cash over to an all too pleased cashier, and walks into the next one over. And it’s much more what Jack is into. The smell of old books permeates the air, it’s very dusty and books line shelves are stuffed into bins, and there are even towers of books stacked up on the floor all over. He’s already across the room looking through the titles on the shelves in the back when Shitty comes rustling in with his bag that holds the ugliest shirt Jack has ever seen is being carried in. He may not be the most fashion forward, and he may have committed some fashion crimes in his time but come on. Looking down at his watch Jack can’t help but be shocked at the amount of time that’s flown by while they were walking around. It’s well into the afternoon and Jack was getting kind of hungry.  So he goes to pay for the little pile of books he’s gathered (one is a personal journal dated from 1946, another was an old mystery novel and cute little vintage cookbook for Bitty.) and asks Shitty if he wants to go get some food. He hums a bit glancing at his phone before answering Jack, “I think…” he types out a text, “We should eat something light. I'm sure Bitty is planning some sort of feast or something for when we get back.” “Ha, you’re not wrong.” So they find a cart selling hot dogs and walk to a park nearby to eat their food at a pickin table by a lake. Jack finished his two dogs in a few bites but Shitty is still on just one. He’s doing a lot more talking than eating, telling a ridiculous story about an intern and a major coffee mishap that invloed a few sick and one injured. By the time Shitty was done with both of his hotdogs and the story it was already half past three. Shitty was furiously texting on his phone, while Jack sares off towards a cluster of trees where two squirrels were chasing each other around the base, upwards, and then back down again. “Ok time to go!” Shitty shouted, slamming his phone down the table. “Euh, ok?” It was getting kind of late so Jack picked up his books and followed Shitty back to his car. When they were on the way home Jack realized what was happening. Bitty had planned a party. A few minutes later his suspicions were confirmed when all along his driveway and lawn were a cluster of cars. Loud music was coming from inside and out of the house. Jack gave Shitty a sidelong glance; his smile was wide underneath his mustache. The front door was already open and when he walked in the party was already underway. He dropped off his books at a table full of gifts before making his way through his own birthday party. Most of the Falconers and the old Samwell hockey team were gathered throughout the house and the backyard. He even spots his mother and father mingling with George by the couches. Ransom and Holster screamed at him and jostled him around when they spotted him. Nursery, Dex, and Chowder were more subdued but still loud enough to draw the attention of Tater and Snowy who greeted him like Ransom and Holster did which was much more obnoxious because he sees them regularly. And so it went, much the same as he made his way throughout the house and into the backyard, meeting old teammates and saying hello to his current teammates' families. When he finally made it to the backyard with a plate full of food in one hand and a cup of water in the other he was greeted by Marty, Thirdy and their respective wives. They chattered for a little while, Jack mostly listening while he ate, when a shrill scream drew his attention away. It was Bitty running around the grass playing with a pack of children and preteens, they all seemed to be playing a fierce game of tag. Jack knew the second he laid eyes on his husband his eyes went soft. Something bloomed in his chest at the thought of Bitty running around with a child of their own in this very backyard. Marty lightly punched his arm, nodding to the group of children currently chasing Bitty. “You talk to him about it yet?” Nodding Jack replied, “It’ll come up from time to time, we’ve talked about adopting.” and they have talked about it. It’s always out of the blue when they’re both silent, in bed or watching TV, or out for a walk. Bitty will say, “We should adopt.” and Jack will agree, and then they both say, “In the future.” But Jack right then in that moment, with Bitty laughing under a dogpile of giggling children, thinks why not now? It’s not long after that Bitty comes jogging up to him, grass stains on his knees, a smile stretched across his face making his cheek so very pink. He stands on his toes and gives a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “Time for cake?” Jack grins and nods and they go hand in hand into the kitchen and the windows can barely stand it when everyone sings happy birthday. *** “There's only one thing I really wanted for my Birthday that I didn’t get yesterday.” Jack is making the both of them smoothies. His mother and father helped them clean up the morning after Jack’s party. They left a while ago telling them to enjoy themselves, so now it’s just Bitty and Jack back in the kitchen where they always tend to gravitate to. “And what’s that?” “I never got to make you that dinner I promised.” Pearls of laughter spill out from deep within Bitty’s chest. “Alright I think it’s about time I get this dinner.” Neither of them wanted to go out so Jack orders the ingredients through a delivery app and in the meantime they bake a pie. Jack has baked plenty of pies with Bitty over the years at this point, he’s become quite the expert at draping the crust just right and his lattice is always laced perfectly. The one they make is more for the fun of it, since they both have had their fair share of sweets during the last few days. The pie is probably going to a grateful neighbor later on. “Yesterday was really nice Bits, thank you for that.” Bitty who’s washing his hands free of flour smiles warmly at him, “Anything for you hun, I just wanted you to have a special day. You only turn thirty once.” Bitty takes a handtowl and wipes his hands dry. “And I’ll have you know it was Shitty’s idea to take out and “distract you”.” “Of course it was” Jack grins, “He did a decent job of it but I had my suspicions by the end.” “Well I wasn’t really trying to hide the fact, but you know how that man gets.” Later on when the ingredients are delivered and Bitty is watching Jack try and fail to neatly devein the shrimp does Jack pop the question. “Did you want to adopt a kid?” Bitty splutters into his cup of wine, “Now?” Shrugging Jack replies, “Yeah now. Well not right this moment obviously it’s a process but, yeah. Now.” Nearly out of seat Bitty gushes, “Yes let's have a kid now! We’ve waited long enough haven't we?” The food is done in fifteen minutes, and they're both on the couch forgoing the dining room for the night. Bitty is profuse with the compliments towards Jack’s cooking, moaning with every bite.   “If I had known we had a secret chef in the house I would have let you cook dinner more often!” “Are you actually admitting that you weren’t letting me cook on purpose this whole time?” Instead of replying Bitty shoves a mouthful of pasta in his mouth. Jack fakes being wounded in the chest but they’re both giggling. After the dishes are done they both hunch over Bitty’s laptop looking up the process on how to adopt a child in Rhode Island. At this moment he’s warm and happy, he finally cooked his husband an actual dinner served with fancy wine and all. He'd never thought back when he was teen that he would be here now. Out in the NHL married to another man looking up forms for adoption. It was a thorny path he followed to get here but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

[nakediconoclast]

Lists of things to have.

1. Shoe and boot laces – yes, you could use leather laces but why not stock some?

2. Fence posts – entirely too handy not just for fencing but for gardening

3. Barbed wire and chicken wire fencing

4. Cloth diapers – handy for so many things other than the obvious

5. Manual egg/batter beaters – whisks work, but the old-fashioned egg beater is hard to beat

6. Hoyle’s rule book for card games – lots and lots of entertainment in one simple book

7. Dice and dice games rulebooks – as above

8. Goggles – safety ones

9. A way to figure calendars into the future

10. Solar powered fencing – even if you don’t have livestock now, you may have it later. And it can be used as a “first line of defense” or used for parts for other uses

11. Canes – there will come a time when they are needed. Adjustable ones are better

12. Plant pots for starting seedlings. You’ll want various sizes

13. Metal rulers – because they last much longer. Different sizes

14. Rain gauge – for keeping track of rainfall

15. Barometer and something that tells you how to use it to get an idea of the weather

16. Candle molds and a double boiler for melting wax

17. Diaper pins – handy not only for the obvious but for securing lots of things

18. Kits to fix garden hoses – because you can stock 10 hoses but what happens when they break?

19. Cheesecloth – useful not just for cheese for all sorts of canning needs

20. Pea shellers, corn huskers, apple peelers and corers, etc. – all those “yankee tools” that our grandparents had but we no longer use.

21. Mimeograph machine and supplies – IF you can find one.

22. Chalk and blackboards. Blackboard paint isn’t a bad idea either

23. Goo remover aka Goo Gone

24. Eyeglass repair kits – they make handy little ones

25. Canoe – if you live near water or an inflatable raft if you’re not that close. If you get a canoe/raft, consider getting the big Duluth packs that outfitters use – they are waterproof (sorta) and good for packing

26. Oars/paddles – even if you don’t have one of the above, they can be handy for improvised rafts

27. Tire chains – if you live where it snows…

28. Swim goggles – not so much for recreational swimming, but for any time you might need to go into the water for whatever reason

29. Life preservers – if you need them, you need them

30. Reflectors and reflective tape

31. Pregnancy kits – I never see this on prepping lists, but it seems so basic… you want to know if you are so you can make sure to eat right, etc.

32. Neck and ankle braces

33. Canning funnel and jar lifter – often listed, but cannot have enough of these, in metal

34. Pack saddle for horses/mules

35. Liquid Smoke flavoring – my spouse swears by this stuff for nice flavoring

36. Powdered lemon and lime juice – an excellent way to store Vitamin C

37. Songbooks and simple instruments – for entertainment

38. Powdered buttermilk – useful for cooking

39. ClearJel canning starch – for canning pie fillings

40. Pet veterinary supplies – basic wound care is a must

41. Bottle corks of various sizes – for when you lose that bottle lid

42. Room thermometers

43. Bags/cloth to use to bag flowers for seed pollination

44. Clothesline and wooden clothespins

45. Clothes baskets that are actual baskets – they last longer and can be repaired

46. An inflatable kiddie pool – thousands of uses (okay, maybe I exaggerate, but useful nevertheless)

47. Lighter flints for refillable lighters

48. Fountain pens, inkwells and powdered ink – those Bic pens you stockpiled will run out eventually

49. UV window film – to help keep houses cool

50. Mailboxes – metal for all sorts of caches and other storage uses

51. Small paintbrushes – handy for many many things besides just painting

52. Pet carriers – one for each pet

53. Canvas shopping bags – handy for so many things

54. Posthole digger, manual – but try to get all your fencing done before … these things SUCK to use

55. Stovetop waffle makers

56. Wind vane

57. Spare glass bottles of various sizes

58. Mop wringer

59. Manual juicers – glass or metal will hold up better than the cheap plastic ones

60. Measuring cups – metal with engraved markings. Painted on markings will disappear with time

61. Measuring spoons – metal with engraved markings. The commonly used plastic ones with painted on markings will break and fade

62. Jar openers – the type that lets you get leverage on the lid

63. Stovetop popcorn popper – ‘cuz if the SHTF and the grid goes down, so does the microwave popcorn you have in the pantry

64. Leather punch and knife

65. Disposable ear plugs

66. Mechanical pencils and spare pencil lead – see above about pens. Pencil lead takes up a lot less space than traditional pencils

67. Folding cloth camping chairs – entirely too useful and easy to store

68. Microscope and slides

69. Old time photographic equipment – could be a new business!

70. Manual typewriter

71. Paper cutter

72. Manual hair clippers – human and animal

73. Steam juicers – stovetop variety

74. Slingshot and ammo

75. Hard hats

76. Sewing measuring tapes

77. Velcro

78. Sewing patterns – better to have them now … especially easy to sew shirts/pants/coats/outerwear

79. Window insulation foam – for keeping warm

80. Disguised safes – the “fake book” kinds

81. Nicorette gum and quit smoking supplies

82. Tomato powder – another good way to store Vitamin C

83. Citric acid, pectin, alum and Pickle Crisp for canning

84. Straight or safety razor for male shaving

85. Rennet tablets for cheese-making

86. Veterinary wrap – useful for not just animals, but people too

87. Autoclave or something that functions like one

88. Dental mirror

89. Walkers and toilet risers for the elderly and don’t forget bedpans

90. Carry yokes – the old fashioned water carrying yokes

91. CLR cleaner – or other lime/deposit/etc remover

92. Locks – combination, keyed, and other types as needed

93. Moth balls, cedar balls, and smelling salts

94. China markers/grease pencils – these are great for marking containers with what is in them

95. Safety vests

96. Fly paper – stores decently and is really handy. Researching a way to make this stuff is also probably a good idea

97. Foam camping pads for under sleeping bags

98. Winter scarves, gloves, mittens – its easy to forget these when it’s not winter

99. Wind up clocks – how else are you going to keep time if the grid goes down?

100. Tow strap for vehicles

101. Black and brown paint – useful for camouflage, hiding things, and making makeshift showers plus a myriad of other uses.

101 things that you probably already own but will not want to overlook in a SHTF situation. Some of these things you may own, but may not be “longlasting” varieties – perhaps you want to invest in ones that will last when you next purchase them?

1. Hot pads – Replace any worn out or not very thick ones. Mitts are probably best

2. Matches -

3. Playing cards

4. Scissors – heavy duty ones that can be re-sharpened would be best

5. Sewing needles, thread, thimbles, and pins – never ever have too many of these

6. Pet leashes – get good quality leather leashes and collars – easier to repair

7. Pet bowls – metal ones will last longer

8. Shoe laces

9. Garden hoses – good quality ones are best

10. Garden trowels and hand shovels – again – high quality metal ones are best

11. Hand axe

12. Ratchet set

13. Allen wrench

14. Spools of twine

15. Cargo straps

16. Duct tape – obviously you can’t have too much of this!

17. Hammer – is yours in good shape?

18. Screwdrivers – did you buy a cheap set or good quality drop forged steel ones?

19. Flyswatters

20. Bottle openers – thick metal is best

21. Manual can openers – don’t go cheap with this

22. Dish clothes – heavy cloth that will last is best

23. Corkscrew

24. Brooms – are yours good quality straw or cheap plastic? Are they in good shape?

25. Straws – they make glass reusable straws, these would not be bad to have on hand

26. Ice chests

27. Kitchen timers

28. Rubber bands

29. Safety pins

30. Magnifying glasses

31. Mortar and pestle

32. Staples and stapler

33. Life preservers

34. Garden hose nozzles – brass will last longest

35. Fingernail brushes – sanitation will be important

36. Key chains

37. Hair rubber bands and barrettes

38. Erasers

39. Garden sprayer

40. Outdoor thermometers

41. Folding chairs

42. Hangers – wire will last a lot longer than plastic. Wood is also good

43. Ice scrapers

44. Wall hooks

45. Windshield wiper blades

46. Aluminum foil

47. Safety pins – heavy duty

48. Eyedroppers of various sizes

49. Bobby pins

50. Rulers – metal will last longest

51. Three-in-one oil

52. Cargo straps

53. Nails, screws, bolts – making these by hand is a royal pain in the posterior.

54. Wheelbarrow – get a good quality metal or heavy duty plastic one

55. Twist ties – those bread/package ties will be useful – store them, don’t throw them away

56. Plastic bags – bread, ziplock, etc.

57. Maps – road atlases, road maps, etc.

58. Cotton balls – make excellent tinder as well as a thousand and one uses around the house

59. Note pads

60. Indelible markers (i.e. Sharpies)

61. Mechanical pencils

62. Dental floss

63. Pitchers – metal preferred

64. Goo remover (Goo-be-gone)

65. Scouring pads

66. Flower pots – various sizes

67. Vegetable peeler

68. Newspaper, old – keeping at least a couple of weeks old ones won’t ever hurt

69. Insect repellant

70. Sunscreen and aloe gel for when the sunscreen doesn’t work

71. Spare buttons

72. Nail clippers – both human and pet

73. Candle holders – metal or glass ones will last longer than plastic

74. Baby supplies – bottles, blankets, clothes, etc. If you’re like me, you still have baby stuff tucked away in your storerooms – even if you don’t have a baby after SHTF, you can always trade the stuff…..

75. Bicycles – are yours all set for hard use?

76. Metal garbage cans

77. Binoculars

78. Cloth napkins

79. Paper clips – not only useful for their normal function, but handy for other uses

80. Cold and hot packs – those lovely rubber bags

81. Lip balm

82. Utility knives – the kind that take the disposable blades or razor blades

83. Extension cords – indoor and outdoor

84. Air mattresses or cots – chances are good you’re going to have guests – where are they going to sleep?

85. Bay leaves – not just a spice, but useful to repel insects

86. Cellophane tape dispenser and tape – get a heavy duty one

87. Paper bags and manila envelopes – handy for storing things

88. Rubber boots

89. Knitting needles – learn to knit! It’s a great survival skill

90. Toothpicks

91. Kitchen utensils – you want metal ones or wooden, not plastic.

92. Barometer

93. Duffle bags – waterproof and with shoulder straps are best

94. Spare pill bottles – keep old prescription bottles

95. Tabasco sauce – along with other such condiments

96. All those takeout condiment packets – make great barter items as well as being generally handy

97. Bag clips -

98. Solar calculators

99. Board games

100. Dust pans – metal will last longer

101. Carmex (or other medicated lip balm)

[underimagines]

easy as pie

Summary: It's Asgore's birthday. If only he'd come out of the room to celebrate it with you.

3.5k-Kofi Commission - Asgore/Reader, Horrortale!AU, Post-Surface

read it on ao3 / buy me a coffee

You hummed softly to yourself as you rolled the dough between your flour-covered palms.

“What kind of pie should I make?”

There were so many different types. Apple, blueberry, peach, pecan, cinnamon, pumpkin—and you liked all of them. But you weren’t sure what kind of pie Asgore liked.

He always seemed to dodge the question when you asked, for whatever reason. So, you were flying by the seat of your pants here. You wanted to make something he’d enjoy.

Maybe apple would be the best bet? It was a classic. And you could add some cinnamon to it, for spice. Or maybe pumpkin-spice would be more appropriate for the impending Fall weather. But maybe that was too predictable.

You laid the dough flat and reached for a rolling pin. It was a cute one, with little patterns embedded in the wood. It made the dough look like it had flowers carved into it.

The sight of them reminded you of the bubbling pot of tea you’d set off to the side. The machine had stopped hissing, so that meant it was done. You switched the pot off, surveying the dark amber liquid inside. Golden flower tea was definitely one of both of your favorites, so at the least, you knew that wouldn’t be any problem.

You decided to set the pie idea aside for the moment and check on your main course.

The chicken was cooking nicely, spinning in a slow circle in the rotisserie machine. You could see the juices dripping off of it. The smell of it was enough to make your stomach growl. A fresh bowl of hand-tossed salad sat in the fridge, cooling as you waited for dinnertime to approach.

You still had a few hours left to prepare everything else, including the pie.

Taking ahold of the to-be crust, you began work carving it into the right shape and size to fit into the pie-tin. As you settled it into the pan, crimping the edges, you settled on cinnamon-apple. There was nothing wrong with the classics, after all! Besides, you’d bought too many Granny Smiths at the grocery store the other day, and you needed a use for them before they started to spoil.

The crust slid into the fridge, next to the salad, where it would wait for the next half hour or so as you prepared the filling.

You reached for the first apple and a paring knife, and began to work it around the apple, allowing the skin to fall in messy curls onto the cutting board you’d set out for the vegetables.

As you sliced the apple, you felt your mind wandering.

It was amazing to think that this was your four-year anniversary together. Time had gone by so fast, and it still felt like it was just yesterday that you’d run into him at the supermarket, after you’d both reached for the same jar of peanut-butter. A jar of the same peanut-butter sat in your cupboard, nearly empty. You’d have to grab more the next time you went grocery shopping.

The sound of chirping birds outside your window brought a sense of peacefulness to the day. It almost felt perfect. You wished you knew how to make it perfect. Because, despite your efforts, all done in the memory of someone you loved with every fiber of your being, said king of monsters hadn’t left your bedroom all day.

It wasn’t an issue of laziness. Asgore was a man who loved comfort, but he was far from lazy.

No, this was something pie and golden flower tea alone couldn’t fix. What he was suffering from was a kind of emptiness and pain that you knew you could never really understand, or fix. But that was the important thing, you had to keep reminding yourself: it wasn’t your job to “fix” Asgore, just to be there for him. It was his responsibility to take the steps for himself, and he’d been doing a good job, before this relapse.

What was it that had brought this on? Seasonal depression usually didn’t kick in for you until Fall or Winter, and though Fall was nearing, as far as Mother Nature was concerned, it was still summertime.

Maybe it was the memory of something you just couldn’t understand.

The Underground had never been particularly kind to Monsters, and it was taking an equally long time for the Surface to get used to the transition as well. For every little step forward, it felt like society was taking five steps back—maybe even ten, sometimes. It was really incredibly frustrating.

You wished you knew how to help more than what you could already offer. But sometimes that just had to be enough.

You set the paring knife and half peeled apple aside, sighing as you glanced at the clock. Time was going by so slowly. The day was dragging on forever, and even though it was a lovely day, something in you just wanted it to be over and done with as quickly as it could be.

Since you still had some time before things would be finished with dinner, you decided to stop by the room and check in on your partner. You filled a teacup with hot, fresh tea and carefully carried it up the stairs, stopping in front of your bedroom door.

You knocked, softly. “Asgore?”

There was the sound of shuffling, then a soft, low, “Yes?”

“Would you like some tea?”

“…Yes.”

You slowly pushed the door open, allowing a single beam of light to crack into the darkness. It cascaded across your bed, landing across the graying, hollowed cheeks of your king. His eyes were ringed with circles so dark that they were practically purple. His hair was messy, a side-effect of bedhead. He looked so much older than you knew he actually was. Or maybe, if time had been able to catch-up with him the way that he said it did for Boss Monsters, it was actually more accurate.

Cautiously, you approached the bedside, holding a hand beneath the cup to keep it from dripping onto the plush carpet of your bedroom.

“Here, freshly made and piping hot. Just like you like it.”

He pulled himself out from under the covers in a painfully slow way. Asgore loomed over you in the dark, staring off into nothingness. Still, a small smile graced his lips as he took the warm cup from your hands.

“Ah…thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You said in a voice so soft that it was practically a whisper. “How are you feeling?”

Asgore took a long sip from the teacup. As he pulled it away from his lips, he let out a long, deep sigh. “I would like to say better…but truthfully, I do not feel that much different.”

“Hopefully the tea will help?”

Another smile, slightly more genuine this time, less polite. “Yes. Thank you for the offer, I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” You said, fidgeting in your spot on the bed. You wanted to reach out and hold him, to wrap your arms around his big fuzzy shoulders and cradle his messy mop of graying-blonde hair until he felt better. But you hesitated.

Maybe it was nervousness, or embarrassment. Whatever it was, Asgore seemed to sense it. He placed the cup aside, on the bedside table, and turned his clouded eyes up to meet yours.

“You seem tense.” He said, reaching out to take both of your hands. His paws were so big, he could hold both of your hands in just one of his. “Would you care to talk about it?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that question?” You shared a tired smile. “It’s a big day, you know.”

His grip tensed slightly. With another sigh, his shoulders slumped. “I would suppose that it is.”

“I would ask how old you are now, but…” The thought of it made you wrinkle your nose. “Maybe it’s better that I don’t.”

He laughed softly. “I don’t blame you. It’s been so long now; I can hardly remember myself. Thinking about it just makes me feel even older.”

“Since you’re not a fan of cake, I decided on apple-cinnamon pie. How does that sound?”

You could see, even in the darkness, how his eyes lit up at the thought. “Wonderful. Thank you, my dear.”

“You’re very welcome, love.”

He ducked his head, a blush tinting his hollowed cheeks as he bit back a smile. His tiny fangs peeked out from under his upper lip as he nibbled on his lower one. You had to stop yourself from leaning in and kissing him silly. He was just so damn adorable sometimes.

“Would you like to open your presents now?”

He paused, thinking it over. You could see the cogs turning in his head, as he tried to settle on a decision. It was exactly like asking a kid if they wanted to open one of their Christmas presents early on Christmas Even or to wait for Christmas Day.

“Maybe…just one, wouldn’t hurt?”

You laughed and stood, clapping your hands together. You knew exactly the gift you were going to choose. “Wait right here, I’ll be right back!”

“I’ll be waiting.” He said, his eyes never leaving you as you turned on your heel and practically danced out of the room, into the well-lit hallway.

You made a beeline for the broom closet near the front door. Asgore almost never looked there when he needed something. In fact, he’d look everywhere but. Which is what made it the perfect hiding spot.

Peeking back over your shoulder, just to make sure he hadn’t decided to follow you, you opened the door, revealing the contents waiting inside.

It was mostly just coats, jackets and shoes, some boxes of supplies and old knick-knacks that you hadn’t put up for the upcoming holidays quite yet. An umbrella or two, even a couple of hats. But hidden in the far corner, behind all of those distractions, sat a tiny, perfectly square box. It was wrapped neatly in red paper, with a bright yellow ribbon tied neatly and sitting on top.

You had the rest of his presents sitting in the kitchen, on the dining room table, where they’d continue to wait until after dinner. But this gift was special, when you had started planning, you’d gone through extra measures to make sure that it would be the last one he would open.

But now seemed like the perfect time for him to open it, even if it was a little early.

You tucked the box carefully into the crook of your arm, holding it close to your chest as you made your way back to the bedroom.

He was still sitting there, waiting patiently as you stepped into the darkness.

“I’ll have to turn on the lights, now.”

The both of you flinched when you flipped the switch, the brightness a shock as it flooded through the room like someone had pulled the sun into your bedroom. Asgore blinked a few times, rubbing the sleepy from his eyes. When his gaze landed on you again, his eyes jumped to the box sitting in your arms, and you watched his entire face brighten.

“I…I take it that is for me?”

“It sure is!” You giggled, holding it out as you approached. He took it from you, gingerly, holding it in his lap like it was the most precious thing in the world. You laughed again as you reclaimed your spot at the end on the side of the bed, placing a hand on his arm. “You’re supposed to open it first, then ogle at the surprise. Not the other way around, Gorey.”

He resumed nibbling on his lower lip. The pink flushed across his cheeks reached all the way down to the tips of his ears. Even though he still looked exhausted, he was noticeably more animated, turning the box this way and that like a curious child. He even lifted it up to his ear, and gently shook it.

“Careful!” You chided, playfully.

“Oh!” He quickly put it back into his lap. “My apologies! I hope I did not break it.”

“It’s not gonna break that easily, trust me.” You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Just hurry up and open it!”

“Okay! Okay…” He took a deep breath, his fingers dancing around the ribbon like he wasn’t sure where to start. He finally picked one of the curls, hooking a claw into it. With one tug, the entire ribbon loosened and fell away. Asgore blinked in surprise, resting his hand on the top of the box.

He looked to you for assurance. You gave him a gentle smile and a wink, gesturing for him to open it.

Asgore gently lifted the top of the box away, and as he stared down at his present, a wide, happy smile stretched across his face. He grinned from ear-to-ear as he reached in and carefully pulled out a large, fancy scrapbook.

It was a lovely beige color, with ornate, delicate patterns woven into the leather binding in faux gold string. A beautiful watercolor painting adorned the front, of a messy, but elegant bouquet of various flowers.

“Look inside.” You instructed.

He looked to you again, still smiling, before flipping it open to a random page.

“Oh!” Asgore gasped. “Is this…?”

You waited as he explored the insides of the little book, looking through all the different sections. There were blank sheets, some accompanied by dioramas of different flowers of all kinds. Some were colored in with watercolor. Most were blank, with scattered text dotting the page around them, pointing out the plants’ anatomy, facts, and various other little tidbits that only the most hardcore of gardeners would be able to relate to. Lucky for you, and Asgore, he fit the bill to a t.

“It’s like,” you waved your hands through the air as you spoke, trying to find the best way to describe it, “like a book about gardening, combined with a scrapbook. You can put pictures in it, and pressed flowers, and it’s got lots of little do-it-yourself charts and stuff that you can fill out will stuff from your own garden! I put something special in the back.”

He flipped to it eagerly, then paused on the image that greeted him. You watched several emotions flash across his face. Something happy, then painful, then finally, content.

“It is lovely, dearest.” Asgore whispered, running his hands over the array of pressed flowers you’d decorated the last two pages with. Seeds, petals, and paint dripped across your makeshift canvas, forming the portrait of an abstract, vivacious garden. Full of colors and life, and everything else you could pack into the couple of pieces of blank paper.

“You really like it?” You wrung your hands nervously. It had taken you a long time to finish it, and now looking at it, you were actually kind of proud of what you’d managed to accomplish.

“I love it.” He said, reaching out again to take your hand in his own. He lifted it to his lips, gentle kissing each of your knuckles. “And I…love you.”

You felt a tornado of butterflies flitting around in your stomach as his sweet gesture and low voice. He knew exactly which buttons to press to make you flustered, and as you caught the twinkle in his eye, you knew that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“I—I’m really glad you like it.” You sighed, trying not to focus on the way your face burned, like someone was holding you in front of an open oven.

“I do,” he closed the book gently, holding it to his chest with the brightest smile you’d seen on him all day, “I’m going to put a lot of use into this, I promise you that.”

“Good! I’m going to hold you to that.”

You took the opportunity to swoop in and steal a kiss from him. But as you pulled away—or tried to, at least, Asgore’s hand came up to wrap around the back of your head, pulling you back.

His claws tangled in your hair as you kissed, the bristles of his thick beard scratching your chin and cheeks. You could feel his fangs prick your lips, but you didn’t flinch. You didn’t even mind. You leaned in and kissed him with everything you had.

You didn’t stop kissing until the harsh buzzing tone of the oven timer rang out, ripping through your tender moment like the much unwanted guest that it was.

You groaned as the both of you untangled from one other. “Now of all times?”

Asgore’s entire face glowed a satisfied pink. He was breathing heavily, his eyes shimmering with thousands of tiny stars. He looked so genuinely happy.

“Perhaps the distraction would be good. Before we get too…carried away.”

Your cheeks burned at the tone in his voice. To your surprise, Asgore stood up, dragging himself onto his feet, still clutching the journal like a child with his favorite storybook. “Would you happen to require any help, dear?”

“Actually,” you smiled, “I was just about to start working on that pie.”

“Then I’m just in time.” He returned the smile with a little crinkle of his nose. “You said apple-cinnamon right?”

You nodded. “You hungry?”

“Ah, well…” He didn’t have a chance to answer, because his stomach did the answering for him. The sound of the growl bounced around the cozy room, so loud and commanding that it made you smirk.

“I take that as a yes.”

He followed you into the kitchen, staring at the wide array of food with amazement in his eyes as you reached over and turned the oven timer off, opening the door to let the food inside begin cooling. “All of this, just for me?”

“Yep!” You chirped, ”We’ve got roasted chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, sweet potato fries, homemade macaroni and cheese, mixed salad…”

You had to count off on your fingers to remember everything. It was like cooking Thanksgiving dinner, but just for the two of you. There was no worry about food going to waste in this household, though. Not with Asgore’s appetite.

You watched his hungry gaze travel from dish to dish. You could practically see his mouth watering. His stomach rumbled again, and he placed a hand over it, as if trying to quiet it down.

“Dearest, you didn’t have to—”

“Shush,” you picked up a spatula and turned, playfully threatening to smack him with it. “Not a word out of you, Mister. Now I’m going to work on this crust. If you could finish up the filling, I would appreciate it.”

“Ah…of course.” He nodded, approaching the bowl of sliced apples you’d left on the countertop eagerly. You watched him pop a slice into his mouth and chew thoughtfully. “Where should I start?”

“Just mix what I have on the counter over there into that big mixing bowl.” You instructed, turning back to where the top of your pie crust sat, waiting for you to roll it flat and begin primping and pinching it into shape. “And don’t eat all of the apples! We need them for the pie.”

“Of course.” He chuckled. “Oh! And before I forget.”

He pulled the journal from under his arm and moved into the living room, gently setting it on the counter of the nearby side table. Among the pictures you’d taken together, memorabilia of your time together, and other remnants of your love-filled memories, the book sat, waiting patiently for his attention.

“Now I’ll definitely remember where it is.” He explained as he turned, catching sight of your questioning gaze.

You smiled as a familiar warmth curled through your chest, blooming like the flowers sitting inside the book.

You worked quietly, stepping around each other to reach the ingredients you needed in such a graceful way that it almost felt like dancing. The sun had begun to set past the trees, bathing the kitchen in oranges and pinks. The colors sparked and caught fire in Asgore’s hair, giving him the appearance of a Monster that you imagined he once was. And who you hoped he could one day be, again.

This would definitely be a good start.

Asgore finished mixing everything together and placed the bowl off to the side. He turned, reaching around you for a paper towel.

As Asgore leaned in close, you stood on your tiptoes, catching him by the beard. He let out a surprised gasp as you gently drew him down to your level, giving him a tiny, sweet kiss. He tasted sweet, just like the apples you had bought.

He stared at you as you pulled away, the tiny divots of his pupils bouncing around as upside-down hearts inside of his eyes. As the sun danced around his face, it made them look even brighter. It was the kind of memory you never, ever wanted to forget.

“Happy birthday, Asgore.”

---

Thank you @piixiev for commissioning me! <3

[consulting-celiac-in-the-tardis]

41 Gluten Free Party Food Recipes for the Holidays

New blog post! If there's one thing five years of being diagnosed with celiac disease and eating gluten free has taught me, it's that you can have just as delicious a holiday season as everyone else! The catch? You need to know the right gluten free recipes!

That's why, this year, I thought I'd kick off the holiday season with a round-up of some of my favorite gluten free party food recipes from around the blogosphere. This post is full of gluten free appetizer ideas, gluten free snacks and gluten free desserts - basically, everything you need to have an epic holiday gettogether, whether you bring one of these appetizers to Thanksgiving dinner or save them for a New Year's Eve party. So enough of my talking...let's dive into the food! Without further adieu, here are 41 gluten free party food recipes that can make the 2018 holiday season extra special (and delicious)!

1. Cajun Shrimp and Corn Dip With Cream Cheese - A Sprinkling of Cayenne 

Talk about a delicious way to spice up your usual holiday eats!

2. Creamy White Bean Beet Hummus (Vegan) - Casey the College Celiac

If you need a gluten free and vegan dip that's as colorful as it is tasty, look no further than my white bean beet hummus! You only need five ingredients (including water) to make it, and it tastes delicious on everything from chips to veggies to potatoes.

3. Pumpkin Spice Fruit Dip (Dairy Free, Egg Free, Refined Sugar Free) - Raia's Recipes

Fruit just got an upgrade with this pumpkin-spiced dip!

4. Spicy Ranch and Broccoli Stuffed Mushrooms - Family Food and Travel 

Even convert veggie haters won't be able to resist this gluten free appetizer...

5. Spiced Apple Cider Made from Apple Juice - Faithfully Gluten Free

Because no party is complete without some delicious drinks!

6. Nut-Free Bone Broth Pesto (Paleo) - Casey the College Celiac

Sneak some extra protein and nutrients into your party food with my bone broth pesto! Trust me. This pesto is soooo flavorful, no one will ever know you swapped bone broth for the traditional oil...

7. Vegan Paleo Pecan Pie Bars - Allergy Free Alaska

I don't know what kind of witchcraft was used to make this dessert vegan and paleo, but I'm excited to bring that same magic to my own kitchen ASAP!

8. Gluten Free Chips and Guacamole Bites - My Gluten-Free Kitchen

Whether you're throwing a casual Friendsgiving or going to a fancy dinner party, you can't go wrong with chips and guac....

9. Cranberry Salsa (Vegan) - The Welcoming Table

Who knew that salsa could be so festive?!? Plus, this gluten free appetizer only takes five minutes to make!

10. Pumpkin Cheesecake Bites - The Happy Housewife

Excuse me while I lick my computer screen and swoon...

11. Pepperoni Pizza Dip - Baking Beauty

As always, make sure you use all gluten free ingredients, like with the pizza sauce and pepperoni. Then all you have to do is watch as people start raving over this gluten free appetizer!

12. Easy Caprese Salad Skewers with Balsamic Glaze - Zesty Olive

Like the saying goes, "If it ain't broke, don't try to fix it!" This classic is as good as it gets.

13. Chewy Pumpkin Popcorn Balls (Vegan) - Casey the College Celiac

Love pumpkin? Love popcorn? Love bite-size, delicious desserts? Then prepare to fall head over heels for these pumpkin popcorn balls!

14. Olive Tapenade (Vegan, Soy Free, Nut Free) - Fried Dandelions

Pair it with some gluten free crackers, toast or even pasta, and this olive tapenade spread will create one heck of a tasty snack.

15. Mini Pear, Pecan and Goat Cheese Appetizers - The Foodie and the Fix

Combine pears, pecans, goat cheese, sage and honey, and you're basically guaranteed one heck of a tasty appetizer.

16. Smokey Chipotle Pumpkin Hummus (Vegan) - Pink Fortitude

Is there anything more perfect for fall than PUMPKIN hummus?!? I think not...

17. Superfood Chocolate Banana Brownies (Vegan) - Casey the College Celiac 

A cross between brownies and banana bread, this gluten free dessert will be a hit with any and all of your party guests!

18. Crispy Air Fryer Chicken Wings with Parmesan (Low Carb, Keto) - Recipes From a Pantry

Who says you can't eat fried chicken as part of a healthy, gluten free diet?

19. Keto Cheese Dip For Low Carb Vegetables and Chips - Low Carb Yum

The Christmas colors of this keto cheese dip make it a winning appetizer for any holiday party this year!

20. Healthy Cranberry Wassail Recipe (Sugar Free) - Healthy Christian Home

Apple juice, orange juice, lemon juice, cranberries and spices combine in this flavorful holiday drink.

21. Convenient Bacon Wrapped Asparagus Bites With Cream Cheese (Keto, Low Carb) - Savory Tooth  

This appetizer only takes five ingredients to make, and it's a super tasty way to sneak some veggies into your holiday party!

22. Vegan Cake Batter Dip (Sugar Free, Oil Free, Keto, Low Carb) - VegAnnie

Cake batter...in dip form...that's also gluten free and vegan!?! Serve with some gluten free cookies or fruit, and I'm sure this dip will disappear fast!

23. Gluten Free Pizza Quesadilla - The Helpful GF

Whether you need a gluten free snack for kids (or kids at heart), this quesadilla is a winning choice.

24. 5-Minute Avocado Ranch Dip with Greek Yogurt - Two Healthy Kitchens

Who knew that avocado could get 100000X times better combined with Greek yogurt, vinegar and spices?

25. Flourless Rocky Road Chocolate Cookies - Foodal

Gooey chocolate cookies...with chewy marshmallows...and crunchy walnuts? SIGN ME UP!

26. Secretly Veggie-Packed Vegan Cheese Sauce - Casey the College Celiac

Nowadays, I always have some of this homemade vegan cheese sauce hiding in my fridge because it's just that addictive. Use it as a dip for chips, as a drizzle for veggies or even as a sauce for a big pot of vegan mac and cheese for all your party goers to share.

27. Crispy Roasted Rosemary Potatoes (Vegan) - Sweet and Savory Meals

Crisp on the outside and fluffy on the inside? My kind of potato heaven...

28. Flourless Mocha Brownie Bites - The Monday Box

Excuse me as I swoon over that chewy, fudgy bite!

29. Party Cheese Ball with Goat Cheese and Almonds - The Anthony Kitchen

If you and your guests can eat dairy, you can't go wrong with a flavorful and festive cheeseball.

30. Gluten Free Intensely Chocolate Cookies - Tikkido 

Only six ingredients stand between you and diving into this deliciously chocolatey dessert.

31. Cream Cheese Stuffed Dates with Walnuts - Oh, The Things We'll Make 

If you need a gluten free appetizer by, like, yesterday, this three-ingredient appetizer is exactly what you're looking for.

32. Crunchy Caramel Apple Energy Balls (Vegan) - Casey the College Celiac

Out of all the gluten free snacks for kids I've shared on my blog's recipe page, this one is perfect for a fall get-together. And I promise. The combination of sticky dates, crunchy pumpkin seeds and sweet applesauce makes this one healthy dessert everyone will love!

33. Autumn Salad with Butternut Squash, Apples, Cranberries & Candied Pecans (Vegetarian) - The Rising Spoon

If there's another salad recipe that's more perfect for fall than this one, I've never seen it. And I wouldn't be surprised if guests just start eating the candied pecans from the salad...so definitely make extra for them (or you!).

34. Keto Taco Stuffed Mini Peppers - Beauty and the Foodie

Make sure you use a gluten free taco seasoning to whip up this flavor-packed gluten free appetizer.

35. Ginger and Pear Polenta Cake - Veggie Desserts

Who knew that pears and polenta would be the secret to one insanely delicious gluten free cake?!?

36. Healthy Tzatziki Sauce - Attainable Sustainable 

Slather this sauce on veggies, gluten free bread or tortillas or anything else your heart (or stomach) desires...

37. Vegan Chickpea Squash Fritters - Piping Pot Curry

...including these vibrant chickpea squash fritters, which are another tasty way to sneak extra veggies into your holiday eats!

38. White Chocolate Dipped Pistachio Cookies - Brooklyn Farm Girl

I'm a sucker for pistachios, so you can bet that these cookies are on my to-do list this year!

39. Kale Guacamole - Savory Lotus 

Because sometimes even guac needs a facelift.

40. Mozzarella Sticks (Vegan) - Pink Fortitude 

Mozzarella sticks that are also gluten free and vegan? You know I'd be digging in...

41. Candied Pecans - Salt and Baker

If you need a gluten free dessert that's as simple as it is scrumptious, these candied pecans are exactly what you need! Just make sure you use gluten free (and non-cross-contaminated) nuts.

  The Bottom Line of Gluten Free Party Food and Having an Awesome Gluten Free Holiday Season

I know from experience that for people with celiac disease, food allergies or dietary restrictions, the holiday season can be, well, awkward. A lot of times, holidays are full of parties and dinners where you don't have anything to eat. And sometimes, that can make you feel like the odd one of out. That's why, this year, I'm challenging YOU (and myself!) to make your holiday season extra tasty, whether it's your first year eating gluten free during the holidays or your twentieth. Try out a new gluten free snack recipe. Bring a gluten free appetizer to a party and watch people's minds get toootally blown by how good gluten free food can be! Heck, you could even throw your own 100% gluten free holiday party. There are plenty of delicious, gluten free possibilities for the next few months! Whatever way you decide to celebrate the holidays this year, I hope that these gluten free party food recipes give you some new ideas for how to spice up your daily eats. And if one of these recipes becomes a new family favorite...well, consider that your Christmas present from me. What gluten free appetizer or snack from this list is calling your name? Tell me in the comments! via Blogger https://ift.tt/2FkeJ6Y

[svtfool]

have your cake (and eat it too) // mingyu

genre: fluff

summary: chan challenges mingyu to a bake-off, and mingyu isn’t going to lose.

it starts, as most things in the dorm do, as a challenge.

and mingyu isn’t usually the competitive one in the group; that’s coups and minghao and soonyoung and sometimes jeonghan, but everyone knows that a) you can’t expect mingyu to save you a share of food and then insult his cooking skills, and b) you can’t insult his cooking skills and then challenge him to a contest to see who can make the tastiest dessert because for one thing, cooking and baking are by no means the same thing, and for another everyone knows the oven in the dorm is fucked.

anyway, that was chan, and that was two days ago, and mingyu is now covered with gelatin powder and cursing darkly under his breath as the pot of water bubbles and boils over, pretending not to notice jun and the concerned glances he keeps throwing in mingyu’s direction. it doesn’t matter that the deadline chan had set them is in six hours; that’s plenty of time to absolutely decimate whatever disgusting concoction chan’s made and rub his smirking face in it, and mingyu is absolutely not bitter about the fact that he’d asked not only minghao but also wonwoo and dokyeom to help him and been told in response that they were already helping chan. dino’s been getting a bit too big for his boots lately, anyway. mingyu isn’t bitter at all. not one bit.

jun casts another concerned glance over at him. mingyu scowls; he knows jun would be more than happy to help him if he asked, and more than capable, but chan had at least three people helping him and mingyu was going to emerge triumphant without help, dammit. also, he’d learnt an english proverb recently: “too many cooks spoil the soup”, and he was looking forward to holding that over chan’s head when mingyu inevitably won.

as mingyu’s muttering incoherently at the custard-like mixture in front of him, he notices jun do a double take at his phone screen before slipping out of the room, speaking rapidly into his phone in mandarin. he frowns, but thinks nothing of it.

his phone pings with a notification suddenly, and mingyu glances over at it. minghao’s name pops up, followed by another text. mingyu ignores it, curious as to why minghao, normally one to condense all the information into a single text, had texted him twice in a row but still feeling miffed enough about the contest thing to be petty about it.

he’d regret it later when minghao inevitably never let him live down his pettiness ever, but he was going to win this thing and rub it in not only chan’s face, but minghao’s, wonwoo’s and dokyeom’s too.

the mixture begins simmering, and mingyu turns the heat down. the recipe says to let it cool for around half an hour while making the frosting, but joshua can’t eat frosting because it’s too sweet and mingyu wants everyone to respect him as the undisputed cooking god. he steps back to wipe his brow, eyes the fridge and the countertop beside it where he’d dumped about half the fridge’s contents onto the counter to make space for the pie he was currently making.

there’s a pack of jun’s jelly snacks lying on the very top of the pile of evicted foods, and jun wouldn’t even notice that they were missing because he keeps literal bags of the stuff hidden around the dorm. mingyu’s got time to spare (he’s just going to make a strawberry jelly topping instead of frosting), and besides, he deserves a treat for all the stress he’s been put through for the last few days. he’ll just eat one or two and put the pack back where he found it, no harm done. right?

mingyu’s on his phone, scrolling through instagram as he waits for the cheesecake batter to set in the pie case. a lazy chuckle escapes him as he watches a video of a puppy chasing its own tail, likes it, saves it to his favourites.

and then jeonghan wanders into the kitchen, and mingyu freezes.

jeonghan freezes too, as though sensing his terror (mingyu read somewhere once that dogs and other animals can smell fear and despite what anyone else might say, mingyu knows jeonghan was a bloodthirsty chihuahua in his previous life), and they stare at each other for a while, wide-eyed, before jeonghan seems to rule out bodily harm or threat, and lets his gaze wander. jeonghan looks mingyu over once, then glances down towards mingyu’s thigh and–

“don’t tell jun!” mingyu shrieks, because he knows jeonghan’s seen the mountain of empty jelly snack cups and he really, really doesn’t like that look on jeonghan’s face.

“hm?” jeonghan hums offhandedly, as if he doesn’t control whether mingyu lives or dies by his own hand. seppuku is preferable to being the source of jun’s disappointment, but mingyu knows exactly what dish to make for jun to abate the storm of his sulking when jeonghan inevitably tells him about mingyu’s betrayal.

“please,” mingyu breathes, hands up in surrender, “don’t tell jun i ate all his jelly.” the silence stretches on as jeonghan pokes a finger into one sculpted cheekbone, pretending to think, the jackass. mingyu battles between wanting to throttle jeonghan and succumbing to the ‘best of mingyu’s life compilation’ that’s currently playing in 0.5 speed in front of his eyes.

“alriiiiight,” jeonghan sing-songs, an all-too-familiar half-grin pulling a corner of his mouth up. mingyu braces himself – “as long as you come with me. i have something i want to show you.”

mingyu’s blood runs cold. “but– but, but i! haven’t, yet, finished making. my pie,” he finishes lamely, knowing full well that none of what he’d just said made any sense.

jeonghan rolls his eyes, a martyred sigh leaving him as he casts his gaze up to the heavens dramatically. “okay,” he says, and mingyu shoots to his feet, darts towards the fridge where his beautiful, beautiful cheesecake has been setting, and the slowly simmering strawberry glaze just waiting for its shining moment.

the cheesecake pie looks heavenly as mingyu stows it smugly in the fridge, grinning to himself as he closes the recipe on his phone before setting a timer for half an hour. the strawberry jelly topping is smooth and bouncy, and constellated artfully with edible flowers. “chan, that twerp,” mingyu mutters to himself, “he’s going to regret challenging me.”

he thinks he hears jeonghan hastily stifle a fit of giggles at that, and aggressively ignores him.

half an hour passes excruciatingly slowly; jeonghan’s typing away furiously on his phone as mingyu tries not to chew at his nails. he really wants to know what minghao sent him.

to no one’s surprise, he doesn’t check his phone, stubbornly glaring at the drawing he’d done of bongbong last week instead. it’s hanging on the fridge, dokyeom’s dumb bird magnet fixing it to the sleek metal. minghao had helped him draw it, giggling in that punch-drunk way of his when mingyu had sneezed and sent his pen skidding across the table. mingyu scowls, turning his glare to his phone, which tells him that there’s thirty-six seconds remaining, and then glancing over at jeonghan, whose fingers have momentarily stopped flying across the keyboard of his phone. they stare at each other for about a minute and a half, mingyu trying very hard not to quail under jeonghan’s knowing smirk before mingyu remembers his cheesecake.

jeonghan prods at mingyu, hard, his bony fingers digging into mingyu’s side as they walk down the abandoned hallways of their company’s building, and it’s only a god-sent miracle that stops him from screeching and throwing the cake in his face. seething, mingyu whirls around to face the older man. “what the heck, hyung!” mingyu whisper-yells, unsure himself why he’s whispering, except maybe that it’s the middle of the night and the members have a bad habit of falling asleep in the practice rooms.

jeonghan grins brightly at him, stopping in front of him by one of the practice rooms, and mingyu kind of wants to kick him just so he can see that smug smile slip off his face. he makes a show of checking his watch then, one finger raised like he’s waiting for something. “what,” mingyu hisses finally, and jeonghan’s grin only widens. waits a beat, then two.

“midnight,” jeonghan whispers back, eyes bright. “happy birthday, mingyu.” and then he swings the door open and pushes him into the practice room.

immediately, he’s assaulted on all sides by shouts and the obnoxious tooting of party horns, the cheesecake snatched from his hands before he has a chance to protest; it’s chaos, absolutely nothing is happening and yet everything is happening, and mingyu’s so confused. then, the chaos assaulting his ears sharpens gradually into “happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to–“

“mingyu–“ “mingyu-hyung–“ “mingoo-yah–“ “you greedy punk–“

“happy birthday to yooooooooouuuuuuuuu!” and then there’s cake being smeared in his face and he panics momentarily before realising with no small amount of relief that the cake is chocolate and not cheesecake, which reminds him–

“chan, you little punk!” he screams, trying despite a grin to fight the cake-covered hands away. “i win, you twerp!”

“no you don’t!” chan screams right back, somehow directly behind him. mingyu yelps and falls over, dragging at least two members with him. “we haven’t even tasted it yet!”

and there’s cake and cake and more cake and chicken and burgers and so much food it seems impossible that they could finish it all but mingyu knows it’ll be gone by daylight, and they chug soda and juice till they’re bloated and gassy and giggly, and at the end of it all, when they’ve all had a slice or three of mingyu’s cheesecake pie, chan concedes a grudging defeat and mingyu screams triumphantly in his face before doing a lap of victory and soda-induced hyperactivity around the practice room, screeching “HA!” like a pterodactyl at minghao, wonwoo, dokyeom and a snickering hansol before spinning off, giggling madly, and continuing to stuff his face and his belly as seungkwan and woozi, cackling loudly, watch the chaos from the safety of a corner.

it’s the best birthday mingyu’s ever had.

[nookishposts]

Making Miracles

Our family got an early Christmas gift this year upon the successful completion and subsequent straightforward healing of a cancer surgery for my Mum. Leftovers from a radical mastectomy 11 years ago grew big enough to wrap themselves around a nerve and cause pain, otherwise they could have gone on growing in both size and threat for years. It was a lucky find, even though it was, y’know, still cancer. I am happy to report that after an initial delay, things went along, the surgeon found more disease than expected, but got it all. A week into healing Mum has no pain and 13 syringes of fluid later, no swelling. We are all very grateful.

Now, here’s the thing; a person’s health is a private matter unless they decide otherwise. but over the years I have seen first-hand how much the sharing of fears and challenging circumstances can in fact affect outcome. You can pooh-pooh the idea all you like, but you can’t tell me that getting repeated messages of support sometimes from people you don’t even know won’t have an effect.

I tell stories on Facebook all the time. It amuses me and I hope, others. I’m not bothered by being blocked or un-friended, there are things I don’t want to read either. We are grown-ups and we have choices and few of them are that personal. Choosing to share someone’s trials can often bring about an interesting sense of community creation; anything from volunteering to provide transport, to making soup, or sending a silly card. People like to be needed, they like to do good stuff, and they like to help out when they can. They also like to be asked. Look at the success of some of the GoFundMe and Kickstarter campaigns. Check the statistics in regard to volunteering; the number one reason people do it is because somebody asked them for help.

My Mum is a private woman, but in her later years has come to appreciate the fact that not everything has a price and not everybody has an agenda. Some folks are just plain kind, even anonymously. She has gotten much more relaxed about telling her own story; “Yes, I have had cancer, and yes I am doing well, thank you.” When it came back to her after 11 years, cancer brought back some pretty big emotions of radical surgery, and remembrance of the chemo that nearly killed her enroute to saving her life. I knew when she asked to speak to me privately what I was about to hear. As the eldest daughter, I am the big mouth who asks the hard questions, the advocate who is unfailingly polite but also relentless, the translator and researcher of medical terminology, the note-taker when emotion overrides the ability to take in details. The decisions are always hers, I just do the footwork on her behalf and at her direction.

So, believing as I do in the power of people united in common cause, I let a lot of folks know what was about to happen prior to Mum’s surgery and asked that they keep her in mind. She was stunned at the sheer number of good wishes on Facebook, the offers of prayers and good vibes, pink bubbles and white light and beams of healing. I reminded her that most of us have had vulnerable parents, that cancer frightens and pisses off everybody, that there are all kinds of “me toos” around when it comes to the subject. Any surgery is scary, especially when parts of our generally wonderful healthcare systems are getting stripped to the bone and our professionals are stretched thin. I don’t care if you do a dance under the full moon or call with a joke, it all matters. We get each other through stuff, taking turns, doing what we can and learning that it’s okay to not always keep a stiff upper lip when the monsters crawl out from under the bed. Everybody needs a cuddle, even if that makes things worse before they can get better.

This experience brought out a really neat story. My friend Sandy sent me a message two days after Mum came home, and I have her permission to reproduce it here. Bear in mind she has never met my Mother.

“Just have to tell you that I had an epic dream last night. It was very detailed and involved attending your Mother’s wedding. She was apparently well enough to get married a few days after her surgery to someone she adored (but whom I didn’t meet in the dream). It was attended by me and about 200 other women. We started off having a delicious chicken pot pie before we all started to freshen up and get dressed for the ceremony which was in a large room in a very nice hotel. There were so many light-hearted moments that I resisted awakening this morning. You and Trish were extremely busy finalizing all the details since it was so soon after your Mom’s miraculous recovery. Really not sure of all the symbolism here, but have seldom had a better time in my life. I guess she really is intent on getting on with living. It was such an incredibly delightful and joyful experience that I just had to share it. Overall it was about celebrating life and about the camaraderie of women having a wonderful time, sharing hilarious humor and absolute joy about your Mom’s renewed health and zest for life and love. OH, I just remembered a tidbit...As I was waking, the pre-wedding activity was taking place on the lawn outside the hotel. You and Trish were beginning to decorate an antique car for your Mom to ride in after the ceremony. It was a balmy spring/early summer day...what a blissful dream it was!”

I know, eh?

What’s funny is that prior to announcing the return of her cancer my Mum had said to both my sister and I (separately) “I have something to tell you. What would you think if I got married again?” as a silly joke.( She has never dated since our father’s death 20 years ago and has no interest in doing so.)

Make with Sandy’s Dream whatever you will, but here are some facts: As I age, the community around me becomes sometimes the scaffold for whatever I am building; a career move, a new understanding, hearing other’s stories, knowing who is adept at what when it comes to experiential advice, etc. We have grown strong in our very living, in what we have seen, and even in the mistakes we have made. I’ve let go of a couple of friendships that changed in ways not conducive to the path/changes I needed to make, and that was painful learning. I think I’ve gotten better at telling friends how much they matter, sometimes with deeds rather than words, I have hard-won a better appreciation for not needing to “fix” things as much as simply showing up, bearing witness, walking beside someone else figuring out their own stuff in their own way. How comforting is it to share a silent look across a room and understand the unspoken? How heart-swelling it is to have your own battle-scarred, skin-thickened, don’t-care-what-the-world-thinks cheerleaders. My Mum could hear the distant roar of her own little crowd, urging her over the finish line and ready to scoop her back on to her feet should she falter in the race. They would have carried her had she needed them to. There were friends and there were strangers. Some of the people involved performed very deliberate and elaborate rituals, others just took the length of a breath to wish her well in their heads. There were texts and emails and phone calls and everybody claimed my Mum as their own until they got the word she was safe. It all mattered. (As did the excellent surgeon who did the precision work with skill and care, whose hands may also have been especially supported that day).

We can do big things my friends. We get each other through the swampy slippery muck and back on solid ground. We tell one another stories in the dark and sing away the shadows. We build ladders and plant gardens when no one is looking. We are more important to one another and more effective than we can ever explain. Instinct and determination are a very powerful mix.. Christmas may be the season of giving, but it happens all year long, every minute of every day in ways you cannot imagine. So, start to imagine! You have proven what we can do with a little focus, knowing we have no tangible control, but having a little faith in trying anyway. I know you get this, because you’ve told me.

Light the candle, make the phone call, hold a hand, shed a tear, say a prayer, rage at the machine, dare to be human, know that you are never truly alone, and we may yet meet, even in our dreams. There is absolutely nothing to lose and everything to give. No cost, no refunds, no fancy wrapping, just the already beautifully-packaged, perpetual gift of who you are. Mum says Thank you.

[pkmnnovareset]

*cackles* ALL FOR TIFA!

Oh my god anon are you trying to kill me b/c it’s working (JK but oh my shits 50 questions)

SO SORRY FOR HOW LATE THIS WAS OH MY GOSH there were like, a butt ton of questions so uhm… And I had to legit like, google stuff b/c i’m like “what is this????”… It definitely got me thinking about Tifa though! So thank you anyways!! :D

The Excessively Detailed Headcanon Meme

What does their bedroom look like?

Tifa’s bedroom is semi-messy with lots of hardware tools patterning on the walls, a hammer bed lamp, grey and white bedsheets with yellow lightning bolts on them. There’s a small little shelf with all her little PokeDolls lined up perfectly. And there’s another shelf with fairytale books: Peter Pan, The Jungle Book, and Treasure Island are the ones she reads the most.

On the other side of her room is a small side table with her iPod and speakers so she can play music. She tends to bring that into the workshop to listen when she works. 

The walls of her room are a slate blue and white. She also has little Electric pokemon wall stickers on the walls.

Do they have any daily rituals?

The only daily rituals Tifa does would probably be: waking up, going to the bathroom, brush her teeth, put her earrings on, getting dressed, eat breakfast and feed her/the Pokemon, and then check what she has to do. Depending on what she has planned, she’ll either be in the workshop doing some tinkering and inventing, or she’ll be out and about.

Do they exercise, and if so, what do they do? How often?

She does exercise! She does MMA and kickboxing! She will often go to the gym twice a week! She has also learned self-defence as an added bonus to her list of physical activities to do. She really does enjoy MMA and kickboxing tho, because it’s something else to keep her busy when she’s not in her father’s workshop tinkering and inventing stuff.

What would they do if they needed to make dinner but the kitchen was busy?

She’d probably ask Parsley or Cilan if there are any leftovers in the fridge. Except then Parsley or Cilan would be like “no no no you need to eat fresh food” and they’d have her sit down at the dinning table to wait until they’re finished preparing and making dinner.

Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)

It’s somewhat messy, but it’s not clean either. She can still be able to find what she needs without shuffling around wondering where a certain item went.

Eating habits and sample daily menu

Oh man. Okay so she’s meticulous with her food and how she chews it. She likes to divide her food in her mouth in order to chew with both sides (if that makes sense?). Her meals are pretty different depending on what Cilan or Parsley makes. But she will always, always, have MooMoo Milk.

Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time

The one thing she’d probably do when she wants to do nothing at all would just lay in her bed listening to music. Asides from inventing and MMA, she loves listening to music. It calms her down a lot, especially if she’s getting stressed.

Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging

She’d probably eat an entire lemon meringue pie, to be honest, ha ha

Makeup?

Nope, she doesn’t wear makeup!

Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such?

She doesn’t have any, but she does recognize that people out there has mental illnesses. She’s not going to act as though she’s above them because she doesn’t experience what they experience.

Intellectual pursuits?

Probably one that gets her a job to invent stuff or restore old, broken down things and have them be brand spankin’ new again!

Favorite book genre?

Adventure and science-fiction!

Sexual Orientation? And, regardless of own orientation, thoughts on sexual orientation in general?

Tifa is bisexual/romantic! She believes that love is love, regardless of gender. As long as the person makes them happy, that’s all that matters. And if they’re nice to them, their family, and friends because that is also important.

Physical abnormalities? (Both visible and not, including injuries/disabilities, long-term illnesses, food-intolerances, etc.)

Nope, not that I can think of at the moment!

Biggest and smallest short term goal?

Her biggest short term goal is to start her own little side business/project in restoring old parts/machines/contraptions and such.

Her smallest short term goal is to just find spare parts to use in her next big project!

Biggest and smallest long term goal?

Her biggest long term goal is  to get a formal education on engineering in order to open up her own business!

Her smallest long term goal is probably to practice how to cook!

Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress

I’m confused about this one b/c i’m not sure if it’s like, an actual dress it’s asking, or the type of clothes she wears? So I’ll do both.

Tifa’s preferred outfits would be a plain t-shirt, overalls or jumpers, and her crop-top jacket. As long as she’s wearing anything comfortable and something she doesn’t mind getting dirty, then whatever.

Dresses on the other hand tho. She rarely wears dresses as she feels incredibly uncomfortable in them.

Favorite beverage?

She really loves Moo-Moo milk and orange juice

What do they think about before falling asleep at night?

Tifa thinks about what she can do inventing wise. Like if she’s currently working on a project, she’d be busy thinking about the parts, how to build the next bit, and so forth. It takes about an hour or two before she clonks out.

If she’s not working on anything, she’d just put on music in the background and fall asleep.

Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them?

She once ate a really bad chicken pot pie and ended up crouching over the toilet for hours on end. There was an instance where it got so bad she had to go to the hospital. Food poisoning. Ever since then, Tifa refused to eat chicken pot pie.

Turn-ons? Turn-offs?

I’ll stray away from the sexual turn ons/offs for now.

Tifa’s turn on would probably be her s/o expressing genuine interest in her hobbies and just engaging in conversation with her about said hobbies. She loves being able to share her work and her fondness about what she does to the people she cares about. Bonus if s/o catches on with the lingo and/or offers some semblance of help to Tifa in any upcoming projects.

Also lemon meringue pie. If her s/o bakes her lemon meringue pie, she’ll smooch you forever.

Her turn off would probably be if the person is acting snide, arrogant, and demeaning towards others. She hates it when people act as though they are better than others. She’s also not so keen on people being overly messy and expects her to clean up after them.

Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?

She would start drawing out plans and blueprints for her next project probably

How organized are they? How does this organization/disorganization manifest in their everyday life?

She’s not extremely organized, nor is she extremely disorganized. She’s somewhere in between. And it doesn’t really affect a lot of her everyday life. She’ll occasionally misplace a few tools here and there (maybe accidentally putting her drink and oil can next to each other), but other than that, she’s managed to get by well enough.

Is there one subject of study that they excel at? Or do they even care about intellectual pursuits at all?

She’s really good at engineering! She’s also great at physics but she prefers engineering a lot more. And funny enough, she’s sorta okay with computer science. But don’t tell anyone that!

How do they see themselves 5 years from today?

Making lots of neat inventions, fixing a bunch of broken things and restoring them to their glory - or better.

Do they have any plans for the future? Any contingency plans if things don’t workout?

If her whole business with inventing and restoring falls through the roof, she doesn’t mind working at a garage as a mechanic! It wouldn’t be something that she’d LOVE, but she does enjoy it to a degree!

What is their biggest regret?

She doesn’t have one at the moment!

Who do they see as their best friend? Their worst enemy?

She definitely seeks Parsley and Rose-Mary as her best friends. They’re her older siblings of course, but she loves how she can rely on them from time to time!

And if we’re bringing in other fankids into the mix, Tifa DEFINITELY sees @kataang36 / @pkmngame-fankids ‘ Hannah and @sydchan / @pkmnomegaverse‘s Colleen as her best friends!

Tifa currently doesn’t see or really HAS a worst enemy so to speak

Reaction to sudden extrapersonal disaster (eg The house is on fire! What do they do?)

She’d just stare, gather her belongings if possible, and just walk up to someone to ask for help. She’d be pretty calm in the situation.

Reaction to sudden intrapersonal disaster (eg close family member suddenly dies)

Oh she’d be MORTIFIED! She hates thinking about the concept of death, so if one of her family members suddenly dies, she’d be cooped up in her room! She’ll definitely go through those how-many-number-idk stages of grief for sure.

Most prized possession?

Her pink ribbon that she wears in her hair! 

Thoughts on material possessions in general?

She appreciates them, a lot. She would be heavily heartbroken if she loses her belongings or even her tools she uses to work. But she knows that she can buy a new set of tools. Not unless they were limited editions or things that possessed sentimental values. Then that’s a WHOLE different story.

If the things she owned had sentimental value, she would just be crushed if something happened to it. Crushed.

Concept of home and family?

Home is where you feel comfortable and the most yourself. Family are people you surround yourself with.

Thoughts on privacy? (Are they a private person, or are they prone to ‘TMI’?)

She’s a pretty private person when it comes to the more intimate details. She’s shy and doesn’t really want to overshare things with people. But once you really get to know her, she’ll pour her heart out and would not be too scared to throw in some TMI things here and there!

What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time?

Tifa enjoys knitting but she finds it a bit too much - especially since she would rather use her hands to make or fix things. But she knows that knitting is really good for dexterity so she can’t really complain.

What makes them feel guilty?

Realizing that she’s wrong in an argument, or accidentally endangering someone from one of her inventions.

Are they more analytical or more emotional in their decision-making?

It honestly depends on the situation! If it relates to her work, or if she’s being a mediator in something, she’d take the analytical route. If it personally affects her, she’d take the emotional route!

Would they consider themselves a Type A or Type B personality?

Probably Type B

What recharges them when they’re feeling drained?

Music, MMA, and lemon meringue pie!

Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither?

Neither! She’s modest in her abilities and she believes that everyone is great at something! Whether it’s one or two things!

How misanthropic are they?

Not very to be honest haha

Hobbies?

Inventing, restoring/fixing, MMA, fixing cars

How far did they get in formal education? What are their views on formal education vs self-education?

She got pretty far in formal education, but wishes to advance more! She thinks formal and self-education are both valid forms of education! When she was younger, she had to self-teach herself a few things (with help from Clemont and some of his engineering books as well!)

Religion?

Atheist

Superstitions or views on the occult?

Oh she’s pretty superstitious and thinks occult/witchcraft is pretty real. She wouldn’t mess with it though, especially since she knows nothing about it. But even if she DID, she would still not mess with it. It’s not her place to tangle herself up with something that could make or break.

Do they express their thoughts through words or deeds?

She does it by words! She’ll tell you over and over again how much she appreciates you, or how much you need to back the fuck off.

If they were to fall in love, who (or what) is their ideal?

Appearance wise, she leans more towards people with dark hair. For guys, she’d prefer if they were taller than her, but she’s fine if they were shorter. For girls, she’s okay with either. Best if the person takes care of themselves hygiene wise.

Personality wise, someone who’s fun, adventerous, and not afraid of the unknown! Someone who appreciates the bigger picture in life, and someone who can stand up for themselves.

How do they express love?

She’d be shy at first, but once she warms up, she’ll smile a lot when she’s around the people that she loves (platonically, romantically or familial, it’s all the same). She’ll also give them hugs!

If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like?

Well, I mean, she does MMA and kickboxing so… Lol.

Is this person afraid of dying? Why or why not?

Yes. She’s afraid of death and what it brings to people around them. She hates the thought and concept of death and dying.

[kutee-boutique-fan-blog]

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My mom who is on a fixed income and I love to buy gifts and help others. One year we bought for the nursing Mega Slasher Friday Man Nightmare Boogey Dool Dr Cannibal Puzzle Cenobite Cream Chainsaw Shirt . One would be surprise of the people in nursing homes who have no family or are forgot during the holidays. My momma and I thought we were blessing them

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Oh but the blessing and joy was spending time with these wonderful people. We laughed and laughed. They blessed us!!! If you San not afford to buy lil gifts please spend your time visiting these dear people. The nursing home recommended things like lotion, throws, socks ,sugar free candies, booties . Walmart carries some lil throws from $3.00 upward.

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Dollar tree is where the supervisor over nursing home told me to shop for lotions and powders . Another thing they love is calendars with pictures . Dollar tree always has them. Like I said just spend time visiting with them .show them love and respect.

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Make the turkey count if your the turkey tamer. Unlike what is usually recommended to buy only what your guests will eat I buy the biggest bird I can since it’s usually on sale for about .98lb. I debone what I don’t carve off and freeze back in 1 lb packs for turkey soup, pot pie, or whatever I might otherwise use in a chicken dish.

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.. If I’m spending that much time in the kitchen, it’s going to pay me back later in easy dinners. We sometimes have them here (Detroit area) for around .59/pound. I buy two – use one for Thanksgiving or Christmas (depends which holiday we are hosting that year) and freeze the second one to cook in January. I freeze the leftovers, as well, to use in other dishes None.

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We don’t do the whole gotta get this and that just because Mega Slasher Friday Man Nightmare Boogey Dool Dr Cannibal Puzzle Cenobite Cream Chainsaw Shirt is Christmas. We typically look at what our kiddos need and our granddaughter needs and go from there. Hubby is however wanting to start our little granddaughter a college fund. So this might be something that is done and worked into out budget permanently!