kids thanksgiving

inktail  asked:

I've got a soft spot for Steve recovering pieces of his past. Imagine some great grand cousins on the Rogers side contacting Steve, showing him pictures of his father, to see if that's really who they think it is?

Tony had told him not to go, because it’s the twenty-first century, Cap.  Anyone can seem like they’re honest.  It’s a scam. Don’t go.

Steve had gone.  

(Natasha had handed him a manila folder without a word and Steve hadn’t needed it, was going to go anyway, because he’d known the man was honest, he didn’t need Natasha’s to prove it.)   

They met in a café, small and out of the way.  The man was reserved, with an average build, but he had a wry quirk to his mouth, the same square to his jaw.  

His name was Joseph (call me Joe) and they muscled through stilted small talk for several minutes before Joe caved (Steve never said he was always the brave one).

“I brought –I thought you might like to see these.  It’s why I tried to contact you in the first place.” Joe produced an envelope with a handful of black and white pictures in them, edges worn but lovingly kept.  “I think we’re…” Joe paused.  “…cousins.” 

Steve sifted through them carefully: a man in a military uniform with a serious set to his mouth, sporting the jaw that Steve and Joe seemed to have inherited; the same man and a woman smiling, the man in his uniform and a slight woman –a slight –Steve’s mother- in a white dress.   

“That – that’s my mother.”  Steve set the third picture down carefully. “Where did you get these?”

The ghost of a smile was hovering on Joe’s lips.  “My mother.  Her grandmother had a brother that died young, in the First World War.  I didn’t think much of it until I saw-“

“-The Smithsonian.”

“Yeah.” Joe smiled.  “I just thought,” he motioned to his face, “there’s some similarities and what they had on your family, it wasn’t much, but it looked like the woman in the wedding pictures.”  He shrugged. “I thought it’d be worth a shot.” 

Steve smiled.  “I’m glad you did.  I didn’t realize I had any family.  It was always Ma and me, and then…just me.”

Something shifted in Joe’s face that Steve recognized as what Sam called his Stubborn Ass Resolve face.  

“Look, I know you probably have plans or invitations, but my wife and I host Thanksgiving every year.  We always have room for more family.”

Steve sipped his coffee in an effort to distract from the itch in his eyes and be sure his voice would hold. 

“Yeah.  Yeah, I’d like that.”

I Like You

“Psst! Hey! Hey, Cas!”

Cas looked around, confused, trying to figure out who was calling his name.

“Look down,” he heard, so he did. His eyes widened in surprise. His best friend Dean was sitting comfortably under the Winchesters’ dining table, eating a large slice of pumpkin pie piled high with whipped cream. “C’mere,” Dean said, gesturing with his free hand.

Written for the prompt: Imagine your OTP eating pie underneath the dining room table, as Thanksgiving family madness happens around them. (1.2k)

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving to all my fellow Americans, and happy random Thursday to everyone else!


“Psst! Hey! Hey, Cas!”

Cas looked around, confused, trying to figure out who was calling his name.

“Look down,” he heard, so he did. His eyes widened in surprise. His best friend Dean was sitting comfortably under the Winchesters’ dining table, eating a large slice of pumpkin pie piled high with whipped cream. “C’mere,” Dean said, gesturing with his free hand.

“What are you doing?” Cas asked, frowning in confusion.

“Just come on,” Dean said, waving for Cas to join him.

Cas glanced around. No one was paying him any attention. “I have another piece for you,” Dean added, and that was the final motivation Cas needed. He slid down his seat until he was seated next to Dean and grabbing the other plate.

“Why are you under the table?” Cas asked again curiously.

“Because,” Dean said. “There are too many people up there. And Aunt Missouri won’t stop asking me how school’s going. Why does she even care?”

“Oh,” Cas said, taking a bite of the pie. Dean’s mom had made it the previous afternoon, and it tasted as amazing as it always did. “So how long are you planning to sit down here?” he asked in between mouthfuls.

“As long as necessary,” Dean said, dead serious, and Cas noticed, not for the first time, the complete stubbornness in his green eyes.

“I’ll stay, too,” Cas decided, spreading his legs out in front of him and leaning against one of the table legs.

A few years earlier, the Winchesters and Novaks (next-door neighbors and close family friends) had decided to host Thanksgiving dinner together, and they’d done it every year since. All of their family and some close friends would gather in the Winchester’s dining room (and living room because they had so many people) to eat and be together, and it was one of Cas’ favorite days of the year.

“Did you bring your turkey home?” he asked Dean as he ate his last bite of pie. Their third-grade class had made turkeys out of construction paper during craft time earlier that week and Cas personally thought that Dean’s was the best. He’d told him as much when Dean had finished, and he remembered how Dean had flushed with pride.

“Yes, it’s on the fridge,” Dean said happily. “Mom said it was beautiful and wanted to be able to see it all the time.”

Cas smiled too. “Mine’s in my bedroom at my desk. I had to make sure Gabe wouldn’t steal it. He’s mean sometimes.”

“Yeah, he is,” Dean agreed. They peered out from under the table, observing what their families were doing. On the other side of the room, Dean’s parents John and Mary were looking at the pictures on the wall and making comments about them. Cas’ mother Naomi was not far away, having a discussion with a friend of hers from work, Linda Tran, as Linda’s son Kevin stood not far away. They could see Gabriel chasing Dean’s younger brother Sam around, Sam laughing hysterically, and in the corner by the TV Uncle Bobby was talking to Ellen Harvelle, both of them completely absorbed in their conversation.

“I think they like each other,” Cas said, eyes pausing on Uncle Bobby and Ellen.

Dean followed his gaze. “Me too,” he said. “I think Uncle Bobby’s gonna ask her out and then they’ll kiss. That’s what grownups do when they like each other.”

“What do kids do when they like each other?” Cas asked curiously, and Dean shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Share toys? Draw each other pictures? Maybe they kiss too.”

“Really?” Cas asked, and Dean nodded. Cas pondered that for a moment before leaning forward to peck Dean on the lips in an innocent kiss. “I like you, Dean,” Cas said, and Dean grinned.

“I like you too.”

Fifteen years later, Dean and Cas (now twenty-three) sat on the couch snuggled up together after a full Thanksgiving meal. Most of their family had gone home by now and their parents were cleaning up while Sam and Gabriel had gone outside to talk, leaving Dean and Cas alone in the living room.

“How many years have we been doing this?” Dean asked, fingers tracing light patterns on Cas’ arm.

“You mean this?” Cas quipped, referring to their current position.

Dean laughed. “No, having Thanksgiving dinner here,” he said. “It’s gotta be eighteen years at least…”

“Something like that,” Cas agreed. “Why?” he asked curiously.

“Nothing, I was just thinkin’ how we sat under the table that one year to eat our pie. Remember? And we watched what everyone else was doing ‘til they left and we fell asleep.”

Cas smiled. “How could I forget? And your mom had to carry us up to your bedroom so we didn’t spend the whole night on the floor.”

“She did, didn’t she,” Dean said with a chuckle. “I wonder if we can still fit…” Dean mused as he stared at the table, and it was Cas’ turn to laugh.

“We were quite a bit smaller then,” he teased.

That didn’t stop Dean from standing and reaching out his hand, an unmistakably mischievous twinkle in his eye. “C’mere,” he said, and Cas recalled eight-year old Dean saying the same thing. He hadn’t been able to resist then, and he wasn’t able to now either.

Dean got down on his hands and knees and crawled under the table, careful not to bump his head as he sat up and Cas followed him.

“Hi,” Dean said softly.

“Hi,” Cas answered with a smile.

Dean glanced around. “Wish we had some pie.”

“Yeah, it’s not quite the same without,” Cas replied, nudging Dean’s shoulder.

“I know what would make it better,” Dean said slyly.

Cas humored him. “And what would that be, Dean?”

Dean shifted so he was kneeling in front of Cas and pulled out a little black box from his jacket pocket, opening it to reveal a beautiful gold band. “Marry me?” he asked simply, and Cas sat in shock for a second before he came to his senses, rising up to grasp Dean’s face in his hands and pull it to his, kissing him breathless. “Yes, yes!” he whispered. “God, yes!”

Dean smiled against his mouth, and murmured, “Good.” They broke apart so Dean could slide the smooth gold band onto Cas’ finger and then Dean pulled him in for another kiss. When they separated again, Cas laughed.

“This is where we had our first kiss,” he said. “Is that how you planned it?”

Dean nodded bashfully. “I, uh, wanted to make it special.”

“Well, you made the perfect choice,” Cas said with a smile.

That night, as they cuddled up together in Dean’s old bed for the first time as an engaged couple, they watched the stars out the window, something they had always done during sleepovers at Dean’s house. Just before they drifted off to sleep, Dean uttered three familiar words and Cas replied as he knew how.

“I like you.”

“I like you too.”

* Seize that meddling canine!

This was originally supposed to be some sort of seasonal bonus art, but we decided it looked more like the cover of some zany manga.

Lucretia loves the Boys and she loved Barry and Lup, but they are goofers and she is an old soul. Lucretia “that’s what my jokes sound like” of the IPRE was the very serious, quiet nerd in the background, and she was surrounded by the a bunch of jocks, drama kids, and other assorted weirdos. Some part of the Boys oddness is probably a result of them dying a few dozen times (I stand by my assertion that they have mild spiritual brain damage after all those resurrections) but they were never quiet people. They’re such extroverts it hurts. Lucretia grew to love them in time, yes, but for a long time back at Ye Olde Fantasy NASA she was just overwhelmed because they were MANIACS and she was going to be spending multiple months on ship with them

My poor girl. 

“Time to rescue Lucretia from her peers before Lup lights something on fire again” was Davenport’s secondary job for most of their training. The twins and Magnus could be overwhelming. Barry and Merle just sort of went with it, because they were chill people, but sometimes (a lot of the time) Lucretia needed a break. She was allowed to sit at the senior officer’s table whenever she wanted because the junior officer’s table was in a perpetual state of chaos and everyone recognized that she would snap otherwise She was the quiet twenty year old who played bridge with all the old engineers, while Magnus and Lup were out back trying to figure out if you could break the sound barrier with nothing but mentos and pepsi and a lot of transmutation magic. She was that one kid at Thanksgiving who was allowed to sit at the grownups table because at the kids table Taako was turning people’s food into paprika. She ate lunch in the library for weeks until Davenport came and rescued her. The first time she came to poker night Barry held a seance and Lup ate a live earthworm and she nearly resigned from the mission. 

Then, time passed, they lost everything else, and suddenly she found she loved them. Magnus was so loving and brave, and Lup was a genius and Taako had more cunning than anyone else she knew and Barry tried so hard. Even Merle, the awfullest grandpa, was kind and smart and had the strangest way of looking at things. They still did some dumb things though. 


On the way back Will doesn’t speak to them.

When he found out they were turning around he just started yelling. Told them they were giving up, that Matt was out there somewhere and they just needed to keep going.

His mom had given him a sharp look. “When you say that, Will. Do you know?”

They stared at each other, unblinking. Will considered lying. He knew that was all it would take. If he said that he knew — that he’d sensed it, that he’d had a dream — his parents would keep looking. They’d always trusted his instincts.

Then he remembered that couple in the car, a few days ago. He remembered what they looked like, what his dad didn’t want him to see. And he couldn’t lie. Couldn’t bring that same fate down on all of them — but his anger wasn’t spent yet, not even close, and so he’d rounded on his father and shot off the one piece of ammunition he had left.

“What if it was her?” His voice was barely audible, barely a hiss; he’d meant to yell but found that he couldn’t raise his voice on the words.

His dad recoiled anyway. That topic was forbidden, always; Will knew hardly anything about his dad’s sister except that she’d been lost and never found. And he knew that his dad still blamed himself.

“Don’t,” his mom said, and it was as cold as she had ever sounded.

Will didn’t care. “Why not? It’s the same thing. It’s the same thing.”

By the time the last few words were out of his mouth he was almost crying, not from sadness but from anger, and sheer, impossible helplessness. “He’s alone,” Will said. His voice dropped and the other question slipped out, the one he’d probably meant to ask all along. “What if it was me?”

His dad had turned away, leaning against the truck. His mom just looked at him. She said, “But it’s not you.” Will thought it was the most profane thing he had ever heard.

And he got in the car.

Now he’s silent, because no other form of protest is available to him. He remembers when they were little kids, at Thanksgiving and Christmas, sharing a room. Their parents told them lights out meant no talking, either, so they exchanged notes in the darkness. Will probably still has them somewhere, in one of the boxes he hasn’t unpacked since they left the District four years ago. It was mostly one-upping each other’s fart jokes. Sometimes complaining about Matt’s little sister, or their parents, or school. Nothing serious, nothing important. For years now they’ve done the same thing over text. Matt has probably sent him ten thousand poop emojis. And complaints, and confessions.

Nothing important.

Matt, alone.

Will exhales onto the car window and writes I’m sorry in the fog, then watches the words fade. And then he does it again.

Of Pasts and Presents

Title: Of Pasts and Presents
Author: Piehead
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Warnings: None Apply
Completed: Yes
Word count: 4193
Summary: Jack has a type. Which is apparently anyone related to the Bittles.
Or, the fic in which Jack has dated all of the Bittle kids and finds out Thanksgiving weekend.

Most memorable line: “You know what they always say,” he started slowly, “You always save the best for last.”

It’s hard to be thankful when I can’t stop thinking about how I might never hear you say that you love me ever again. I miss you and I don’t know how much longer I can keep it to myself. I just don’t know how to tell you in a way that will make you think that us together is a good idea.
—  Thankful for the time we had but desperately want us to have more

wantonewsbabies  asked:

St Hedwig au, Could you tell more about Jinki and Taemin before he adopted him? Does he find himself doing other things for him at school that is beyond a teacher's duty? Like, Christmas gifts or sitting with him during those parent/kid holiday events (thanksgiving lunches, plays *even tho its kinda given that he'd be at school stuff anyway*)?

So there’s one day when parents were invited to come see their kids perform some Thanksgiving play or something, and then they were invited to a potluck afterwards in the classroom. And Taemin, our tiny little orphan boy, was a good little pilgrim during the play. Sister Constance helped him make his paper hat and everything. He memorized his lines with one of the older boys he shared a bedroom with who was very happy to help him. He said maybe five lines because it was a short play and every kid said the same amount, but he worked his hardest to memorize them.

Except none of the nuns could come see him, and Taemin was a little upset but he also didn’t really make that big of a deal about it. But when Jinki found out, he was heartbroken. 

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The Kids Are Alright (Part 6)

Originally posted by imaginingobrien

Summary: Stiles is a single dad just trying to raise his little girl right. You’re a single mom in a new town doing your best to stay up with a rambunctious toddler. When your kids become friends on the first day of kindergarten, where will it lead you and Stiles?

Author’s Note: It’s here!!! I didn’t expect this to get done so soon, but I guess inspiration just hit me :) I really hope you guys like it! This is unedited, so I’m sorry for any mistakes, I was just too eager to get it up for y’all haha!! Let me know what you think and enjoy ;)

Warnings: Language; some smut; fluff, feels

Tags: @peace-full-mind, @justdreamstars, @storytelling-reader, @echorhinozap, @emmiluisa, @batmanbreeann, @cluh22, @buckybarnesisalittleshit, @itsjoslyn, @missconverseshoes, @ktrivia, @mandylove1000, @cupcakeunderwear22, @otaku-fangirlse, @lady-thc-lovelies

@snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales you didn’t ask to be tagged but I’m gonna do it anyway ;)

Find the previous parts on my masterlist!


It was hot. Too hot.

Shifting as I started to come to a bit, I felt the heat source pressed against my back, wrapped around me. Soft lips were leaving warm, wet kisses to the back of my neck and shoulders, one large hand cupping and massaging my breast, another leaving a burning trail down my side and, over my hip until it was dipping into the wetness that had settled between my thighs.

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- Dipper and Wendy swap hats every year

- Soos and Melody eventually have twins that live in Dipper and Mabel’s old room

- McGucket makes the old Northwest mansion into a mecha because he can…and because Soos hooked him on anime

- Ford and Stan visit the kids for Thanksgiving, which is why you see Mabel making Ford a turkey hand in the credits

- Bill is still kicking around somewhere in Stan’s subconscious, but it’s gonna take him a while to pull himself back together, much less be in a position to do any damage

- Since Soos moved into the Shack, Stan and Ford end up rooming with McGucket whenever they go back to Gravity Falls. Some of the weird creatures end up living in there too. It’s a big mansion.

- Stan still has occasional memory gaps, but he remembers the important stuff - anything to do with his family

- Stan pretended not to remember Ford just to annoy him. Ford is annoyed but hugs him anyway.

- Gideon starts sending his thugs after any bullies, not just ones who pick on him.

- Dipper and Mabel’s parents are understandably annoyed about the pig, but they leave it alone when they realize how much the kids have matured over the past few months. 

- (they are in fact, kind of worried about how much the kids have changed over the summer)

- Bill’s statue is still out in the woods. No one wants to go near it.

- …Except Dipper, who came across it the next summer and hangs out there sometimes when he wants to be alone and needs something to complain at that can’t interrupt him.

- (and if Bill ever meets Dipper again he’s going to have a lot to say about his petty human problems)

- Everyone involved in the circle eventually gets a tattoo of their symbol. They can’t exactly explain why, they just end up doing it on their own.

- Gravity Falls’ location? It’s in your heart.