#Thanksgiving baskets

[annagracewood]

Remembering the poor and lonely at Thanksgiving

When I was little, I would always beg my mother to cook us a turkey at Thanksgiving. She’d always say, “Oh, honey, that would be a waste since it’s just the two of us”. No amount of begging, no mention of what she could do with leftovers swayed her. It was a chicken and dressing casserole for us, each and every Thanksgiving Day. To be honest, there probably wasn’t enough money in our budget for…

[curiosity-killed]

(not quite) a year in shoes

[ALT ID: a photo of 17 pairs of used pointe shoes laid out on beige tile.]

[daisyducklover2021]

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

Billy Beagle brought the Roadsters as a modified Thanksgiving dinner.

[cinderella-ish]

Chapter: 2/30 Fandoms: Fruits Basket - Takaya Natsuki (Manga), 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Manga), Fruits Basket (Anime 2019), 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Honda Tohru/Sohma Kyou, Fushiguro Megumi/Itadori Yuuji Additional Tags: Crossover, Curses, Curse Breaking, Drama & Romance, Friendship/Love, Self-Discovery, Reconnaissance, Undercover Missions, Plans For The Future, Secrets, Feelings Realization

Chapter Title: to cast long shadows Summary:

The trio begin their enrollment at Kaibara High and meet more of Tohru's friends, including two more cursed Sohmas and a strange girl with immense cursed energy.

[active-mind-15]

Okay so anyway I have a headcanon that Kagami celebrates Thanksgiving

At first, when he moved to LA, he had no idea what it was until he started seeing it talked about in November on TV and saw signs and decorations for it on the streets and in stores. Completely out of the loop, he asked Himuro about it, who explained everything.

He learned that it was a big deal in America and it's a time when you get a break from school and get to cook big meals and spend time with those you love as you reflect on what you're thankful for.

Tbh Himuro already sold him when he mentioned no school, and a lot of food like this boy was READY.

But the problem was that his he and his dad didn't celebrate Thanksgiving, and they haven't lived in the country long enough to make any friends that would invite them to their Thanksgiving get-togethers. So, Himuro is lke "well, this can't stand. let's make our own celebration!"

Introduce problem number 2. Neither Himuro nor Kagami knows what goes into planning a Thanksgiving party. So they ask the only person that makes sense to ask. Alex.

Alex is confused when they show up for their usual mentoring on the b-ball court, and the first thing they ask about is how to plan a Thanksgiving party. But after hearing that Kagami has never celebrated Thanksgiving, she gets in on their plan and decided to help them.

With permission from Kagami and Himuro's parents, the three of them make a list of everything they'd need for the party, from decorations to food. Then they go shopping together to get all the stuff.

The day before Thanksgiving Day, they get together to start brining the turkey. It's the first time Kagami has ever seen a turkey and his first time preparing one, so he pays very close attention to what Alex does.

The day of Thanksgiving, they come together again early in the morning to take the turkey out of the brine and also start cooking all the other dishes. Kagami and Himuro looked up typical Thanksgiving dishes online and picked the ones they wanted to try the most.

Kagami is very adamant about wanting to do all the prep himself because this is his first Thanksgiving, so he banishes his dad upstairs while he, Himuro, and Alex do all the hard-carrying.

While certain dishes were in the oven, Kagami and Himuro were in charge of decorating. They decided to have the celebration in Kagami's house, so they set the table, lit scented candles (with Alex's supervision), and put up autumn-themed streamers on the walls.

By the time all the decorations are put up and all the dishes have been cooked, it's early evening, and Kagami and Himuro are ready to MUNCH.

Kagami's dad, of course, shows up for the festivities, and Himuro's parents are also invited and come, too. And they all sit around the dining table in Kagami's house and have the greatest feast that Kagami has ever had. There's a lot of smiles and laughs, and, for a split second, Kagami finally understands why people celebrate this every year.

Since the first party was such a hit, they celebrate Thanksgiving every year that Kagami is in America. But when he goes back to Japan, he's alone, and Japan doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving, so he doesn't have a big party like he did in previous years. As a result, Thanksgiving ends up being depressing as hell, and Kagami spends it eating pizza and watching movies in the darkness of his living room.

But then, he gets to high school and meets Kuroko, the rest of the Seirin basketball team, and then the Generation of Miracles all in one year. On top of that, Himuro comes back, and Alex pays a visit. And then Kagami thinks—hopes—for a second, that maybe they could have a Thanksgiving party like old times. But with all the drama during the Winter Cup and Himuro threatening to end their brotherhood over a basketball match, that hope quickly dies out, and he spends another Thanksgiving alone.

After the Winter Cup ends, everything settles down, and things are better, Kagami decides after Kuroko's birthday party that this year would be the year. It has to be.

So, in November of his second year of high school, just after the month started, he sent out invitations to the entire Seirin basketball team, the GoM + Momoi, and Himuro, detailing of a Thanksgiving party at Kagami's place. Plus-ones are allowed, and all Kagami asks that they bring is themselves and some good vibes.

He makes a list just like he used to, and he shops with Himuro and Kuroko to get all the things they need. They then go back to Kagami's to prepare. KagaHimu is on cooking while Kuroko is on decoration.

When they're done with all the preparation and Kagami takes a step back to admire their work, he's so proud and made him really feel he made the right decision.

Eventually, guests start showing up one by one, and everyone is impressed by the spread. Once everyone arrives, then the party begins.

The food is incredible, and since it's a lot of people's first time trying Thanksgiving dishes, they have a newfound appreciation for this type of American cuisine.

Then, after eating, they clear up a little and then play some games and talk. Even though the guests present are pretty much the same as Kuroko's birthday party, this time, it feels different. As Kagami sits there and watches everyone chat and laugh with each other, he's reminded of the very first Thanksgiving party he threw as an elementary student, and he gets a little emotional. Out of all the things to be thankful for, the friends he's made after coming to Japan are what he's thankful for the most.

When it gets too late and everyone starts going home, Himuro looks at Kagami with a knowing smirk and says, "same time next year, bro?" Kagami looks back at him and breaks out into the biggest grin before replying,"You know it, bro."

Anyway, I just wanted to do something cute for Thanksgiving. But I'm gonna head out now because I'm at my own Thanksgiving party, and we just got called to eat. Have a lovely Thanksgiving, guys! 🍁🦃💜

[autisticabbey]

My customized Emerald Earth mesh laundry bag, folding laundry basket, and reusable movie cup, and my decorated Juno and Emerald Earth Thanksgiving vintage heels

[venacoeurva]

I know stores get on holiday stuff early and clearance fast too but they're already clearancing fall/thanksgiving stuff here by like 50% already. good lord it's the 13th people

[lifeinspired4u]

[pandaskywalker]

did yall have to learn to weave at school. i had to learn how to weave at school but apparently this was not a universal experience

[kinialohaguy]

Bounty Weekend

Aloha kākou and Happy Aloha Friday. The Thanksgiving weekend begins with Trump celebration parties all over Hawai’i. Ours is tomorrow in Hilo, Hawai’i. Invitations to the public have been sent. We’re expecting a great turnout with beautiful weather. I’m bringing Kailua Pork sliders. The slow cooker is on with a nice cut of pork. We’re also bringing dinner rolls that make great sliders. It’s a…

[zengardenphotos]

Meet the photographer

Flaherty's Family Farm, ME

[dcwineandspirits]

Elevate Your Gift-Giving with Thank You Wine Gift Baskets

Looking for the perfect way to say "thank you"? Explore the Thank You Wine Gift Baskets from DC Wine and Spirits. These thoughtfully curated baskets combine premium wines with gourmet treats, making them an elegant and heartfelt gesture for any occasion. Whether you're expressing gratitude to a friend, colleague, or loved one, a wine gift basket adds that extra touch of appreciation. Visit us today to find the ideal gift that speaks volumes!

[mcmansionhell]

new jersey "19th century" "eclecticism"

It's always funny to me when new wealth tries to imitate old wealth, but in a very specific way: by trying to reproduce old ways of building that are no longer viable via mass produced building materials and contractors who are better than average but still not quite in the legion of the bespoke. It's rarely the case that houses are fully "custom" these days -- the amalgamation of all the different parts in a new formation is the "customization" at work. As we can see in this example, this is a truth that is often covered up by excessive decorating.

This 5 bedroom, 6.5 bathroom house, built in 1997 (shocker) will run you an extremely reasonable $3.5 million big ones, but I say extremely reasonable because it wants to be a $10 million house but doesn't quite get there - after all, it's made with drywall. The architectural style is not really anything in particular -- though the front entrance would like to recall the Tudors. Really it is trying to emulate an existing pastiche style, namely the eclecticism of the 19th century. It also doesn't do this well.

No stately manor is complete without dueling staircases. Also, I don't know how to explain it, but every room in this house longs to be a bathroom. Or a powder room. A really big one. It's probably the floor, and the wallpaper. This is just the appetizer for the main attraction:

Jules Verne larping is so rare in McMansion Hell that you have to commend them for trying. I'm kind of obsessed.

This room is so important to me. It's like if an Olin Mills (dating myself here) set was an entire room. A sense of watching someone in one's own house, performing "dinner." Also I would slay as the swan knight, I have to say, so I get it.

What happened to baskets hanging from the ceiling and powder blue walls and porcelain lined up on the picture rail?

I have seen columns terminating into soffits that would make Scamozzi cry.

In Big America bathing and lavishing is a spectator sport.

Ok, again, the palette of this house is basically The Polar Express mixed with a very bizarre hotel lobby.

The chimney hole is sending me because that does appear to be a working chimney. Like, can you see the smoke come out? Who knows!

Anyway, happy Thanksgiving to everyone, and I'm especially thankful to the folks who sponsor me on Patreon! If you want to see more scenes from this house, that's the place to do it!

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!

[cerealandchoccymilk]

hell yeah!!!!!!!!!!! entire universe in my favor (the weather is gonna be relatively nice tomorrow (and just tomorrow) so we can ride our brand new bike)

[littlelamy]

family thanksgiving with rafe

The house was alive with the warm chaos of Thanksgiving. The smell of roasting turkey wafted through the air, mingling with the sound of laughter and clinking glasses. Your family filled the rooms with lively conversations, stories, and the occasional outburst of sibling bickering.

Rafe stood at your side, looking every bit the charming Southern gentleman as he greeted your family. His crisp button-up was neatly tucked into dark jeans, and his hair was combed just enough to look presentable but still had that boyish disarray you loved.

For a guy who claimed to be nervous about meeting your family, he was doing an excellent job of keeping his cool.

“You didn’t tell me your mom could cook like this,” Rafe murmured into your ear as you both carried dishes to the dining room. His voice was low, teasing, but the way his hand brushed your lower back as you walked sent a thrill down your spine.

“Behave,” you warned, shooting him a playful glare.

He smirked, but his eyes held a mischievous gleam. “I’m always on my best behavior, sweetheart.”

That was a lie, and you both knew it.

The first time he pulled you aside was when you were refilling your aunt’s wine glass in the kitchen. The others were still in the living room, chatting over appetizers.

“Rafe,” you hissed as his hand closed around your wrist, tugging you into the small pantry just off the kitchen.

“Shh,” he whispered, his lips already brushing yours.

The kiss was quick, soft, and utterly intoxicating. His hands rested on your hips, his thumbs rubbing slow circles that made your knees weak.

“Your mom’s a great cook, but you’re the only snack I care about tonight,” he murmured against your lips, his tone low and suggestive.

You shoved him lightly, a mix of exasperation and giddy laughter bubbling in your chest. “If someone catches us—”

“They won’t.” He kissed you again, longer this time, his lips moving with a confidence that made you forget the world outside the pantry.

The second time was when you were setting the table. He waited until everyone’s backs were turned, then leaned in to whisper something very inappropriate in your ear, making you nearly drop the fork you were holding.

“Rafe!” you scolded, trying to stifle your laughter.

He just grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “What? I’m just thankful for you, babe.”

By the time everyone gathered around the dining table, you were already on edge—not from the family chaos but from the man sitting beside you. Rafe looked innocent enough, nodding politely as your dad asked him about his job and laughing at your cousin’s awkward jokes. But under the table, his hand had found your thigh.

At first, it was a simple, comforting touch. His palm rested there casually, his thumb rubbing soft, lazy circles just above your knee. You shot him a warning glance, but he didn’t move his hand. If anything, his grip tightened slightly, a silent challenge in the way his lips quirked into a smirk.

The conversation at the table flowed, but your focus was entirely on him. Every time he squeezed your thigh or shifted his fingers, your pulse quickened.

When his hand slid higher, you nearly knocked over your water glass.

“You okay, sweetie?” your mom asked, looking at you with concern.

You forced a smile, your face burning. “Yep! Just clumsy.”

Rafe’s fingers stilled, but you knew it was only temporary.

As the meal continued, his touch became bolder. His fingers ghosted over the hem of your skirt, then dipped just beneath it. The light pressure against your skin sent a shiver up your spine, and you clenched your fists on your lap to keep from reacting.

“Pass the rolls, Rafe,” your uncle said, breaking the tension.

Rafe’s hand disappeared as he leaned forward, grabbing the basket and handing it over with a polite smile. He was the picture of innocence, completely unbothered by the storm he was stirring inside you.

The final straw came when Rafe dropped his fork.

“Shit,” he muttered, letting the utensil clatter to the floor. “I got it.”

You froze, your pulse skyrocketing as he ducked under the table. His movements were casual enough to keep suspicion at bay, but the moment his hand wrapped around your ankle, you knew you were in trouble.

“Rafe,” you hissed through clenched teeth, trying to sound firm, but it came out more like a plea.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice muffled under the table. “Just getting closer.”

The answer came when his lips pressed softly against the inside of your ankle. A rush of heat shot through you as he trailed kisses up your calf, his hands gently parting your knees.

Your grip tightened on the edge of the table as he moved higher, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just above your knee. You tried to keep your breathing steady, but the warmth of his mouth paired with the occasional graze of his fingers was driving you insane.

“Rafe,” you whispered again, more desperate this time.

“Shh,” he murmured, the vibration of his voice against your skin making you bite your lip to keep from reacting. “Mhm… just let me.”

His lips hovered just beneath the hem of your skirt, teasing in a way that made you squirm. His fingers slid further up, ghosting over your panties, and your stomach tightened as he paused, pressing his thumb against the damp fabric.

“So wet,” he muttered under his breath, almost too quietly for you to catch, but the deep tone sent a shiver down your spine.

You opened your mouth to scold him, but before you could, you felt it—a quick, deliberate kiss over the center of your panties.

Your entire body froze, a gasp threatening to escape as he lingered for a split second longer, his breath warm against the fabric.

“Got it!” Rafe’s voice rang out suddenly, cheerful and innocent as he reappeared with the fork in hand.

He slid back into his seat with a smug grin, completely unbothered by the chaos he’d caused.

You shot him a glare, your cheeks blazing with a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “You taste better than dessert, babe,” he whispered, his voice low and raspy, so only you could hear.

Your stomach flipped, and your thighs pressed together under the table. You refused to give him the satisfaction of a response, but judging by the satisfied look on his face, he already knew what kind of effect he had on you.

By the time dinner ended, you were ready to throttle him—and maybe fuck him senseless. As the family moved into the living room for coffee and dessert, Rafe caught your hand, pulling you into the hallway.

“You’re impossible,” you hissed, your voice low.

“And you love it,” he countered, backing you against the wall. His hands found your waist, and his lips were on yours before you could protest. The kiss was slow, deep, and absolutely intoxicating.

When he pulled back, his blue eyes sparkled with mischief. “Happy Thanksgiving, baby.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “Happy Thanksgiving, Rafe.”

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