an-average-oncer asked:

"I'm not sure that this is the right color to be actual turkey."

Felicity lets out a heavy sigh as she drops the pan onto the counter.  ”I’ve never made Thanksgiving before, Oliver,” she answers feeling flustered and overwhelmed and not sure what to do next.

Oliver places a hand on her back, rubbing soothingly across her shoulders.  ”It isn’t a big deal,” he reassures her.  ”Thanksgiving was never a huge thing at my house anyway.”

"You told me once that your Thanksgiving dinner consisted of six courses and fifty people," she huffed, blowing blonde strands of hair off her forehead only to have them rest there again.  "Besides, it’s the first one without…"

He pulls her into a hug, and she relaxes in his embrace.  ”I think I have some pizza in the freezer,” he says, a smile in his voice.  ”Might be better than charred turkey.”

Felicity pulls out of his embrace, swatting at him with an oven mitt.  ”It will be better next time, I promise.”

"Who says I’m ever letting you make a turkey again?" Oliver says with a laugh, and then ducks when she throws the oven mitt at his head

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