#thanksgiving tv specials
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atomic-chronoscaph · 1 year ago
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A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving - art by Dave Perillo (2013)
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no-mercy-bby · 1 year ago
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GUYS PETER PLAYING PING PONG WITH HIMSELF IS A SNOOPY THANKSGIVING REFERENCE!!
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lunar-years · 1 year ago
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imagining that keeley is extremely turned on by by jamie & rebecca (aka phil & hannah) singing and dancing together for that christmas special because, as a fellow bisexual, i am freaking out
i saw people on twitter AND instagram talking about like, "wow Rebecca and Jamie really went all out of the charity gala this year" and now i cannot stop thinking about the Richmond Christmas Charity Ball fic I am hoping 🙏 and praying 🙏 SOMEONE amongst us is writing into the world rn <3 keeley would be salivating in her chair (as am I, mind you, as am I)
Can we talk for a minute. can we just discuss. how stunning gorgeous beautiful Hannah is looking in these Christmas gowns?!
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I MEAN!!! and phil dunster in a velvet suit jacket...Christmas really has come early!!
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thinkbolt · 2 days ago
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A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving (COMPLETE!) https://www.twitch.tv/videos/1983002557
dirs. Bill Melendez & Phil Roman
The 10th of the made-for-TV Charlie Brown holiday specials, with music (as always!) by Vince Guaraldi.
Buy me a coffee!
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littlevampie222 · 4 days ago
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Don't forget to pick up the Thanksgiving essentials when you do your last minute shopping!
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Jelly Beans, Bread for Toast, Pretzels, & Popcorn!
Or, if you prefer the Pooh Bear meal..
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Honey, Acorns, Lemonade, Biscuits, Thistles, and "Hot Chocolatey" Ice Cream!
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mired-in-halloween · 1 year ago
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THANKSGIVING To commemorate a past event you kill and eat an animal. It's a ritual sacrifice. With pie.
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stone-cold-groove · 1 year ago
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Thanksgiving night on NBC - November 1970.
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filmfanaticfables1990 · 3 months ago
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A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving (1973)
Feeling nostalgic? Let's take a trip back to 1973 with the classic animated TV special, A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving! Directed by Bill Melendez and Phil Roman, this heartwarming story follows our beloved Charlie Brown as he tries to organize a Thanksgiving dinner for his friends, despite facing various challenges and mishaps.
Charlie Brown is preparing to go to his grandmother's house for Thanksgiving dinner when he gets a phone call from Peppermint Patty. She invites herself, Marcie, and Franklin over to Charlie Brown's house for Thanksgiving dinner. With the help of Linus, Snoopy, and Woodstock, Charlie Brown attempts to throw together a Thanksgiving feast.
Memorable Moments
Snoopy and Woodstock's hilarious antics in the kitchen.
The iconic scene where Snoopy serves toast, popcorn, pretzel sticks, and jelly beans as the Thanksgiving meal.
Linus's heartfelt speech about the true meaning of Thanksgiving.
This special captures the essence of Thanksgiving with its humor, warmth, and timeless message about friendship and gratitude. It's a perfect reminder of the importance of coming together and appreciating the simple joys in life.
If you haven't seen it in a while, now's the perfect time to rewatch A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving and relive the magic of the Peanuts gang. Gather your loved ones, grab some popcorn (and maybe some jelly beans), and enjoy this classic holiday special!
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im gonna be so annoying this week bc im already so emotional about saying goodbye to the original speak now album 🥴 y’all are in for a TREAT with me all week
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notesonartistry · 2 years ago
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Omg has anymore made this connection yet? I was watching old videos from the Speak Now era and came across this. Pretty clear that Speak Now TV will be next but this video from the Speak Now era she performed a roof top show for the fans in front of the Empire State Building which was also in the Bejewelled music video.
Ooooh, nice spot anon! I haven't seen anyone else mention it. She also did a NY rooftop show for 1989, but I don't think it had such a good view of the Empire State Building (I could be wrong) and obviously she did the 1989 reveal starting off on top of it too! If the video is hinting at one, it's more likely Speak Now though, I agree.
On a side note, I really love that Thanksgiving special. It captures a time when things were really starting to get insane, but it was still mostly overwhelming in a good way. I love seeing her having fun with the band too.
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writing-winters · 1 year ago
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thought I took a week off?
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https://writingwinters.com/sgroa-blood-ties-s1-e20-the-good-the-bad-and-the-ugly/
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judebellswife · 2 months ago
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First Glimpse - Jude Bellingham
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— REQUEST status OPEN
— pairing • jude bellingham x fem!reader
— summary • In Jude Bellingham’s much-anticipated documentary series, fans are given an intimate look into the football star’s life, with a special feature introducing his long-time girlfriend—you. Known for keeping a low profile despite dating one of football’s brightest stars, this marks your first public appearance. During a heartwarming interview, you open up about how you and Jude met, even though you already knew who he was, and how you never expected to become his girlfriend. The episode includes candid moments with Jude’s family, particularly his parents and younger brother, Jobe, with a special Thanksgiving Eve gathering where you all share laughter, love, and togetherness. Through your eyes, fans get to see a more personal side of Jude and his close-knit family.
— warnings • none :)
— note • i’ve got like 7-8 request about to write a one-shot with reader featuring in one of jude’s document series. so here it is, i hope you enjoy, happy reading!!
The camera focuses in on a familiar setting for those who follow Jude Bellingham’s career: the cozy, welcoming living room of the Bellingham family home. The walls are adorned with family photos, mementos from Jude’s rise in football, and hints of his personality—trophies and framed jerseys alongside warm family portraits.
But today, the focus is on you. You sit on the sofa, the soft cushions surrounding you as the camera captures your slight nervousness. A small, warm smile crosses your face, and you shift in your seat, unused to the spotlight.
A voice from behind the camera breaks the silence. The interviewer. “So, this is your first time on camera. How are you feeling?”
You chuckle, glancing off-screen for a moment as if looking for support before turning back. “Yeah, it’s definitely new for me. I’m more of a private person, so this is... different, but I’m excited to be part of this.”
There’s an understanding laugh from the interviewer. “For everyone watching, could you introduce yourself?”
You nod and give a small wave. “Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I’m Jude’s girlfriend, and, um... yeah, I’m usually not in front of the camera, so this is a bit out of my comfort zone,” you say, your voice laced with both nerves and humor.
The interviewer continues smoothly, keeping the tone light. “So, let’s jump into the good stuff. How did you and Jude meet?”
You pause for a moment, your eyes softening as you think back to the day. “Well, I actually knew who Jude was,” you begin with a smile. “I mean, he’s Jude Bellingham. Anyone who follows football knows who he is. But I never imagined I’d actually end up dating him. That wasn’t even on my radar.”
The camera cuts to a shot of Jude laughing in an earlier part of the documentary, as if he’s recounting the same story, though from his perspective. His grin is wide, and there’s a glint in his eyes that shows how much he enjoys this memory.
You continue, your voice a little more relaxed now as you find your rhythm. “We met through mutual friends at a small gathering. I’d seen him play on TV and heard about him through the grapevine, but when we met in person, he was just... Jude. Not the football star. Just this really laid-back, funny guy.”
“So, did you know right away that you liked him?” the interviewer asks, intrigued.
You laugh, shaking your head. “Not at all. I was definitely attracted to him—he’s handsome, obviously—but I didn’t expect anything more than just a friendly conversation that night. I thought it’d be a ‘Hey, nice to meet you,’ and that’d be it.”
There’s a brief pause, and the interviewer presses gently. “So what changed?”
You smile, eyes twinkling with the memory. “Jude changed. We ended up talking the whole night. It was so easy with him, and I realized he wasn’t just this football prodigy everyone sees on the pitch. He’s so much more. Kind, funny, and really grounded. But it was his persistence that surprised me the most. After that night, he didn’t just let it end there. He reached out, wanted to spend time with me, and honestly? I couldn’t resist his charm.”
The camera switches to a series of candid clips, showing you and Jude out and about—him pulling faces to make you laugh, you playfully pushing him away before being pulled into a hug. It’s the kind of chemistry that makes it clear this relationship runs deep, full of mutual adoration and comfort.
“So, how long have you two been together now?” the interviewer asks off-screen.
You think for a second, tilting your head slightly as you calculate. “A little over two years now. Time flies, honestly. It’s been an incredible ride.”
“And what’s it been like, dating someone as high-profile as Jude?”
You take a deep breath, nodding. “It’s definitely been an adjustment. At first, it was a bit overwhelming, especially with how much attention he gets. But we had a conversation early on about keeping our relationship private, at least until we were ready. Jude’s been really protective of that—he’s always made sure I feel comfortable, and I love that about him. But I also understand that he’s a public figure, and being with him means that sometimes, I’ll be seen too. This,” you gesture around at the cameras, “is one of those times.”
The camera cuts to another moment—this time, Jude and you are walking through a park, your hands loosely clasped together. He swings your arm playfully, then stops to pull you into his side, whispering something in your ear that makes you laugh. It’s easy, intimate, and full of warmth.
“Speaking of being seen,” the interviewer continues, “how does it feel to finally share a bit of your relationship with the world?”
You laugh softly. “It’s exciting, I guess. People have always been curious, but I’ve been pretty firm about staying out of the spotlight. I’m not someone who thrives on attention like Jude does. But it’s nice to be able to show this part of his life. People know him as the footballer, but they don’t really see the person behind all of that. I’m happy to share a little bit of what we have, because it’s special.”
The camera pans across the Bellingham household, warm and inviting with the sounds of family chatter filling the air. Thanksgiving Eve at the Bellingham’s is a full house. Jude’s dad, Mark, is in the living room, laughing loudly with Jobe and Jude as they discuss football, while his mom, Denise, is in the kitchen, bustling about as she prepares the family meal.
The lens of the camera focuses on you for a moment. You’re helping Denise chop vegetables, your hands moving a little slower than hers but with focus, and you share a comfortable conversation. A nervous laugh escapes you as you attempt to cut the vegetables to her standard.
“Are you sure I’m doing this right?” you ask, holding up an unevenly chopped carrot with a teasing smile. “It doesn’t look quite like yours.”
Denise glances over and laughs softly, reaching out to gently touch your arm in reassurance. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re doing just fine,” she says, her voice full of warmth. “Trust me, my first Thanksgiving wasn’t perfect either. And honestly, even if it’s a bit wonky, it’s still going to taste amazing.”
Her words, her tone—there’s something deeply maternal in the way Denise speaks to you. It’s as if you’re already a part of the family, not just Jude’s girlfriend, but someone she holds close to her heart. You smile at her gratefully, feeling that familiar warmth whenever you’re around her.
Denise’s attention turns fully to you now, setting down her wooden spoon and wiping her hands on a towel before stepping closer. “You know,” she begins, her voice soft and kind, “I’ve always thought of you like a daughter. You’re such a big part of Jude’s life, but you’ve also become such an important part of ours too.”
You look at her, slightly taken aback by the depth of her words. Your heart swells in your chest, not expecting the surge of emotion. “That means the world to me, Denise,” you say, your voice quiet but sincere. “I’ve always felt so welcomed here. You and Mark, and even Jobe—you’ve all made me feel like part of the family from day one.”
Denise steps forward, enveloping you in a gentle but tight hug, the kind that only a mother could give. “That’s because you are family,” she whispers against your shoulder. “We love you like one of our own.”
You close your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to sink into her embrace, feeling a wave of comfort wash over you. In this family, you’ve found something special—something you didn’t expect to have when you first started dating Jude. It’s not just a relationship with him; it’s a bond with the people who raised him, who made him the person you love so deeply.
As you pull away, Denise gives you a warm smile, her eyes soft with affection. “Jude’s a lucky man,” she says, glancing toward the living room where Jude is seated. “But then again, I think we’re all lucky to have you around.”
You chuckle softly, still holding onto the warm feeling in your chest. “I’m the lucky one. Jude’s incredible, and you’ve all been nothing but wonderful.”
Denise’s eyes twinkle as she leans in conspiratorially. “He’s a handful sometimes, though, isn’t he?”
You laugh, nodding in agreement. “Oh, definitely. But I love him all the more for it.”
Denise shakes her head, her smile growing wider. “Good, because he needs someone like you to keep him in check.”
There’s a shared understanding between the two of you, the kind that goes beyond words. Denise pats your hand and returns to stirring the pot, the air between you filled with warmth and affection. It’s a small moment, but one that fills your heart, making you realize just how deeply connected you’ve become to Jude’s family.
The scene transitions to the dining room, where the entire family is gathered around the table. Mark is telling a story, his booming laugh punctuating the conversation as Jobe makes a playful remark. Jude sits beside you, his arm draped over the back of your chair, his fingers occasionally brushing against your shoulder as he smiles and laughs along with his family.
“Jobe, pass the bread,” Jude says, reaching across the table with a grin.
Jobe rolls his eyes dramatically but tosses the basket of bread to his brother. “There you go, Mr. Superstar.”
You nudge Jude with your elbow as he catches the bread. “You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t start charging for autographs at family dinners.”
Jude grins, leaning in closer to you. “Oh, I’d give you an autograph for free,” he teases, his voice low and playful.
You roll your eyes but smile, and as Jude reaches for his plate, Denise catches your eye from across the table. She gives you a wink, as if to say, See what I mean? A handful.
The love and ease that fills the room is palpable. You can’t help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude. This family has welcomed you, loved you, and made you one of their own, and tonight is a perfect reflection of that.
The camera lingers on the scene—Jude’s hand resting on your shoulder, Denise watching her sons with pride, and you laughing along with them, fully immersed in the warmth of their family dynamic.
As the evening winds down, and dessert is served, Jude’s dad, Mark, stands up, raising a glass. “I think we all know what I’m about to say,” he begins with a grin. “But this Thanksgiving, I just want to take a moment to say how grateful we all are. Grateful for family, for good health, and, of course, for the wonderful woman who’s come into our lives and made our son the happiest he’s ever been.”
You blink, taken aback by the sudden toast, your eyes glancing around the table. Denise smiles warmly at you, her eyes filled with affection, and Jude leans closer, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze under the table.
“To Y/N,” Mark says, raising his glass higher. “Welcome to the family. Officially.”
There’s a soft murmur of agreement as everyone raises their glasses, and you feel your throat tighten with emotion. It’s not just words—it’s a promise. A declaration that you belong here, with them.
As everyone takes a sip, Jude leans in and presses a kiss to your temple, whispering, “I told you they love you.”
You turn to him, your heart full. “And I love them.”
The camera captures the final moments of the evening—the plates scattered with crumbs, the soft murmur of conversation as everyone winds down, and the love that fills the room. The bond between you and Jude has always been special, but tonight, it’s clear that your relationship extends beyond just the two of you. You’ve found a home with his family, and they’ve found a place in your heart.
As the screen fades to black, the soft hum of background music plays, leaving the viewers with a sense of warmth and love, the credits rolling as the final glimpse of your story is shared with the world.
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 11 days ago
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Beautiful Stranger
(5) I'm thinking back to when I was young
Mommy!Wanda Maximoff x Beefy!Fem!Reader
Summary: It's time for Thanksgiving and you aren't used to so many people, but what happens when Vis insults Wanda it's the tipping point for you.
Word Count: 2.2K
Warnings: 18+, Men and Minors DNI, suckling, intimacy but no sex, angst, hurt/comfort, Vis is an asshole, family dynamics, cultural sensitivity (mentions of Wanda's family), alcohol use, gender roles and expectations, pregnancy
A/N: Honestly this was the first thing my brain wanted to do after kinktober because I'd been sitting on the idea since before kinktober! Next chapter will be Christmas/Hanukkah!
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November 7, 2023
The soft moans that you pulled out of Wanda in the morning as you suckled gently from her breast; the warm milk filled your mouth. Her hand cradled the back of your head, gently scratching at your scalp. 
You let your eyes flutter open to catch her smiling down at you. Though it had only been a few months of showing Wanda things, letting her explore things and just all around getting comfortable with each other. 
You let go of her darkened nip with a pop. She closes her eyes and lets her head lean back against the headboard. You never thought you'd find a pregnant woman this attractive, but here you were. Getting to explore things you'd only ever fantasized about.
You push yourself up to give her a kiss. Her shirt falling back into place just in time as you hear the pitter pattering of the boys before the door is slamming open and they're belly flopping onto the bed. Sending Wanda into a laughing fit as you do a complete 180 to how you were mere minutes ago in her lap. 
You're wrestling the boys. Showing off how you can still lift them both so easily before play slamming them back into the bed. Holding them there.
“One. Two. Three. The Troublesome Twins once again are defeated by The Giant!” Wanda calls out as she gets out of bed. “Now you two head down stairs go play a game or watch TV while we get ready, okay?” Wanda informs them and they waste no time racing down the stairs to get first choice at the game or show. 
You shake your head with a smile, closing and locking the door before getting ready with her. 
°○°○°○°○°
Just as quickly as the Halloween decor went up, the late Autumn and Hanukkah decor started going up. Christmas tunes humming from your mouth and this time the boys offered up their help. Wanting to be good boys and get the newest gaming system on the eighth night.
Wanda and you had discussed it and didn't want to leave out Christmas so while they taught you about Hanukkah you'd teach them about Christmas. You'd get to take the boys to go pick out a real tree just like you and your father had always done. 
“Come on you three time for a break. I made hot chocolate!” Wanda called and Billy's head spun around.
“With the marshmallows?” 
“Mhmm.”
“And the whipped cream?” Tommy chimed in.
“Of course.”
“And the–”
“And the sprinkles of peppermint and cinnamon sticks. Yes, my two beautiful boys. I'd never forget all the things that make Mommy's hot chocolate so special.” Wanda took both boys in each arm. Giving them a kiss on top of their heads. “Now go grab a cup before it gets cold.” They hurried off to the kitchen as Wanda walked up to you. A hand on the back of her hip as she let her arms rest on your shoulders.
You smile down at her, gently letting your thumbs massage her lower back. You knew this little girl had nothing on Wanda carrying twins, but you still knew Wanda was hurting at 6 months pregnant. You held her close a moment before the two of you joined the boys in the kitchen. Wanda grabbed her cup first before handing over one for you with a smile. 
You watch the three loves of your lives realizing the short time they had been in it, but just how big of an impact they’ve had. You couldn’t imagine a day without them. Wanda looks at you from the boys trying to get whipped cream on the other. Seeing the sappy smile on your face as you look at them distantly. 
Her weight brings you back to the moment. Looking down at her head leaning against your arm. A smile on her face as she’s looking up at you. A hand cups her cheek and you lean down, letting her meet you halfway. Her lips are always so soft and you never want to stop. You hear the boys make playful gagging noises. You smile against Wanda’s lips. “I’m gonna go take care of the peanut gallery.” You whisper against her lips before letting go and chasing after the boys, laughing as they scream down the hall and up the stairs.
 °○°○°○°○°
November 23, 2023
The house was abuzz with life. Much more than you were used to. You had tried helping Wanda and her mother but the two of them quickly threw you out of the kitchen so you were now sat on the couch. 
Your father, Wanda's father, her brother Pietro, Natasha, Yelena, finally Natasha's and Yelenas's father all sat around the big TV of Wanda's house watching the big Thanksgiving day football games. 
You knew Vis was off somewhere and so was your mom which made you anxious, but Lena and Tasha kept you grounded about the whole situation. Soon enough you could get into the game. Even though the teams playing weren’t anyones team you all still went back and forth rooting for the teams as touchdowns were made and passes were successful. 
Eventually you had to get up and grab another beer as you made your way to the kitchen where Wanda was alone for a moment. Her back turned to you as she whipped the potatoes. Her dress today was beautiful, a lovely scarlet color, with a square neckline that was doing nothing to hide her chest. The dress fell to her plush mid thighs. If there were no one else home you’d be on your knees worshiping her like the goddess she is. 
You smile to yourself before walking over and wrapping your arms around her waist, slightly holding up the growing belly as Wanda lets out a sigh of relief. “Feel better?” You whisper against her shoulder giving the exposed skin a soft kiss.
“Much. She’s getting heavier by the day and with all the prep work she feels even heavier.” Wanda leans back against you. Head lulling a bit. 
“Let me help a little just by holding you for a bit, okay pretty girl?” Wanda hummed in response as you continued to hold her for another minute before gently letting her belly back down.
“Thank you sweet girl. That was much needed.” Wanda turned in your arms, her own gently placed on your shoulders. You leaned your foreheads together and swayed gently as the soft christmas music played in the kitchen speaker. You loved getting lost in moments with Wanda.
“You two are very cute.” You hear Wanda’s mom’s voice call out, her accent was much thicker than Wanda’s, but it was apparent that her parents had immigrated here at a younger age. You turn to smile at her. Wanda’s mother was much sweeter than your own when it came to the relationship the two of you had formed. Your mother was only here out of the necessity for appearances. Wanda’s mother, Iryna, seemed to be thrilled for Wanda finding someone new. 
You heard the boys before you saw them, as they came barreling through the kitchen. Grabbing each with your arms and a smile on your face. “Woah you two where's the fire?” You ask as you hold them over your shoulders and the two are in a fit of giggles.
“We’re hungry, is dinner ready yet?” Tommy asks and Billy’s nodding his head in agreement. 
“Soon you two, but here,” You easily keep the boys over your shoulders as Iryna stiffles a giggle while you grab two pieces of bread, “to hold you over until Mommy and Babička are done cooking.” You set the two of them down and after handing them the snack they rush off again with a quick. 
“Thank you Daddy!” 
You freeze a bit as you glance at Iryna, wondering if she’ll say anything about it. “They call you Daddy?” You chew the inside of your lip.
“Oh yeah they started doing that almost immediately and it kind of stuck.” Wanda explains. “We tried getting them to use something else, but they insisted since they never called Vis Daddy.” 
Iryna takes a moment before the smile comes back to her face, looking at you as she hands you a beer, her voice soft as she sends you back out to the others, “I think you make a better Daddy than him anyways.” 
 °○°○°○°○°
Once everyone started eating it was quiet except for the sounds of silverware hitting against plates. You were sitting next to Wanda, Vision directly across from you. Then your mom and your dad at one end of the table while the other side held Wanda’s dad, Oleg. 
You smiled when Wanda's hand found your thigh, sighing happily and relaxing as you felt her thumb gently caress your thigh. You'd matched Wanda with a scarlet button up and dark gray dress pants.
Things were going smoothly which surprised you, but also put a smile on your face. You heard the oven go off and Wanda was about to get up, but you knew she was hurting so you kissed her cheek, “I've got it pretty girl. You stay right there.” You say with a smile and Wanda tries to protest, but you insist. Then as you're getting up you hear it,
“Wanda should be the one to do it.” Vision calls out. The whole table was at attention. Silence falls over everyone as you look at him. 
“And why is that?” You ask with a heady tilt. You feel Wanda's hand on your trying to pull you back and not make a scene, but over the months of the comments here and there you've reached your boiling point. 
“Well if you’re going to look like a man and have my sons call you Daddy then I think the woman should have her place in the kitchen. It's the only thing she's good at.” There's venom in his voice and your eyes flick over to your mom who is nodding her head. There it is you've boiled over. 
“Or how about instead I be a gentleman and help my pregnant girlfriend who's been on her feet all day to make this amazing Thanksgiving meal from scratch for all of us, even the ungrateful ones and yeah the boys do call me Daddy and maybe that's because I'm a better father figure than their actual dad! I've let some comments slide since I met you Vis, but not anymore. Wanda is my girlfriend now and I won't stand for the sexist and downright rude comments you make about her! Wanda is beautiful and kind and caring and hardworking and a great mother! I won't sit here and let you continue to insult her. So you can either shut up or find a new place to go out on Thanksgiving,” you stop turning your attention to your mom, “that includes you. I won't let you threaten me for the choices I'm making as an adult because so far my choices have led me down a path I wouldn't change for anything in the world.”
No one speaks and all eyes are on you. Your heart is pounding in your chest and the anxiety starts to kick in as you rush off to the kitchen. 
You lean against the counter, fingers gripping the stone top until your knuckles are white. Your heart is in your ears. You wanna throw up everything you've eaten so far, but then a familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind. 
“Take a deep breath milaya.” she asks of you and you do as told. “There we go.” She's rubbing soothing circles in your back and gently kissing your shoulder blades. 
You turn around in her arms, picking her up and setting her on the counter a memory flashes in your mind of the first time you did that and you cup her cheeks, kissing gently. The two of you move together in perfect sync. A dance you’ve now memorized. 
When you pull back, Wanda is smiling softly, her thumb brushing your cheek. “Thank you. For always standing up for me. For always reminding me of my value and worth. I lost it for a while with him, but I've found it again in you sweet girl.” Her voice is soft, almost a whisper. 
You nuzzle into her hand, allowing yourself to be soft for a moment with her. Only with her. “I mean every word of it, Wands. You know I do. I'll always remind you of how loved you are. How beautiful you are. How amazing of a person you are. You deserve it.” You see the tears of happiness build up in her eyes, but nothing falls.
Just as you go to kiss her again the oven is beeping at the two of you. A smile forming on both your faces. 
“Desserts gonna burn if we don't do something about that.” She whispers against your lips. You give a quick kiss before grabbing it out, setting it on the cooling rack Wanda had prepared.
You turn back to your beautiful girlfriend with a smile, letting your eyes glance over her before picking her up and kissing her deeply. 
Even with Vis and your mom this had to be the best Thanksgiving because you had Wanda as your girlfriend and you were more than thankful to have her, the boys, and the little bundle growing in Wanda.
Taglist: @marvelwomenarehot0
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thinkbolt · 5 days ago
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twitch
Bad Thanksgiving Specials - featuring Q-Bert, Dorothy in Oz, and An Intergalactic Thanksgiving
Buy me a coffee!
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piningforstan · 3 months ago
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Talking in Your Sleep
Part One | Part Two
Summary: You start to suspect that there’s more to Stan than what he tells you, at least while he’s awake. Asleep is a different story.
Pairings: Stanley Pines x GN! Reader
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: Not really any? Let me know if I missed one
A/N: All Most of my oneshots are inspired by songs I guess😂 I’m thinking there might be 2 or 3 parts to this one
Stan lied.
To everyone.
Perhaps it was delusional to think that it didn’t apply to you. You, your reasoning was, were special. At the end of the day he crawled into bed next to you and pressed his cold toes to your calf, laughing as you squirmed away. You made grocery lists together and raided the aisles for food and supplies. It was you that he whispered his fears and hopes to.
So you thought nothing when he lied to the tourists, lied to the banks, lied to the man who “dropped” his wallet (Stan had pickpocketed it and you forced him to return it). You thought nothing when the lies bled into your daily life, domestic bliss disrupted with the occasional white lie. You told yourself: everyone does it.
It didn’t mean anything.
Right?
The room in the Shack that you stumbled upon on accident one day while looking for warmer blankets. “My brother’s room,” he told you. The brother, that you knew, was dead. You let it be, didn’t ask questions. But if it was his brother’s, why did all of the books say his name? Stanford Pines. Scrawled in margins and on the wall like a hasty addition. You didn’t have time to inspect it too closely, but the handwriting looked too neat to be Stan’s — tidy and cramped, unlike the sprawling letters you had seen him print on your paychecks.
STNLYMBLE his license plate read. It wasn’t his brother’s car, he affectionately retold stories of his time in the vehicle before. Maybe it was a tribute of some kind?
A million instances that accumulated in your mind like clutter in an attic, each one a box that you labeled and tucked away for later.
The first snow had just coated itself over Gravity Falls when the sleep talking started. You were roused awake by Stan twitching and muttering, the alarm clock blinking the time at you from the nightstand.
Too early. You rolled over, trying to grasp at the last remnants of your dream. It wasn’t much longer before he was muttering again, louder this time, hands clutching at the sheets and his face scrunching in unmistakable pain.
“Portal…help…” whatever disturbed his dreams made no sense to you here in the real world. You listened quietly. “I promise, Ma…I promise.”
Segments of promises and reassurances, bits of stories that you hadn’t heard before and couldn’t parse out yourself. It didn’t concern you at first, chalking it up to stress — about the Shack during the cold winter months, or maybe whatever work he did in the basement.
And then they became more specific. Unsettling.
“I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. An accident.” Sweat glistened on his forehead and wet the dark curls at his temples. The weirdest part is when he would whimper: “I’m sorry, Ford. I’m sorry. The portal…”
The portal, the portal, the portal — the one reoccurring connection to all of the sleep talking.
The dreams were worse during the holidays; Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years. It was sometime after the beginning of the new year and you were nestled into one another on the couch when you asked him, “What’s the portal?”
Stan kept his gaze on the TV but his body stiffened beneath you. “What?”
“The portal.”
“What’re you talkin’ about?”
You don’t know why, but you sensed that you’ve crossed a line, somehow, said something wrong. In an effort to lighten the mood, you injected a hint of humor in your voice, “You’ve been sleep talking lately and you keep mentioning a portal. Is it a bad dream or something?”
“Or something,” Stan coolly replied.
A beat passed between you, tension palpable. The TV flickered off. Stan untangled himself from you without a word and started up the stairs. You stumbled after him.
“Stan, what is going on?”
“Nothing,” he said, whirling on you, one hand braced on the rail. “I’m tired is all.”
You steeled yourself for an argument, aware of it approaching like a storm on the horizon. “For weeks — months — you’ve been having these awful dreams and talking about someone named Ford. And a portal.”
Sometimes you wake up in tears. Sometimes the pain in your voice is enough to make me nauseous. Sometimes you cry for forgiveness.
“S’probably nothin’.”
“Nothing? Stanford, I know something is wrong.”
You had both made it to the landing now, an old fashioned draw. Shadows thrown across his face, Stan possessed an unpredictable air, sharp and glinting like the blade of a knife in the dark. It slipped away just as quickly as the image had impressed upon you. Did you imagine it?
His features arranged into a semblance of shame, sheepish in nature. “I jus’ don’t wanna talk about it, alright? I’m sorry you had to deal with that. You ain’t gotta worry about me, doll.”
You wanted to press the matter. Wanted to know why he was being elusive and why his explanation rubbed you the wrong way.
But you didn’t.
A month or two passed. Spring lingered in the woods, melting snow and glimpses of greenery. You hadn’t mentioned the portal or the dreams again. Stan would go some nights without sleeping at all. You knew this only because you would wake up at night and roll over, expecting his warmth and finding the bed cold and empty.
“What are you doing in the basement?” You asked one day when you were feeling particularly brave. Stan was your kind-of boyfriend, after all, and you asserted to yourself that you had the right to know where he spent most of his time.
Stan, shoveling food in his mouth, shrugged and replied in a muffled tone, “Science stuff.”
He was off doing science stuff when you poked around the entirety of the Shack, searching for this alleged basement. How could there be no doors? You patrolled the perimeter of the building and spotted a cellar but it refused to budge. It unsettled you that couldn’t find an entry to the basement and hadn’t thought to even look before now.
“You wouldn’t want to see it, it’s boring,” he would tell you and you would believe him, his large hands roaming over your skin. “I can think of much more fun things to do up ‘ere.”
It worried at the back of your mind constantly, this idea that you were just another victim in Stan’s lies. Were you being dramatic?
The answer came to you in the dark of the night, moonlight spilling over the floor in silvery bars. Stan woke you as he staggered out of bed, muttering and bumping into the dresser that now hosted a mixture of your clothing. You sat up.
“Stan, honey? Where are you going?”
He never ceased his muttering to answer, persisting down the stairs in his sluggish manner. You grabbed a robe and threw it over yourself, following after him. After several more attempts to get his attention, you came to the conclusion that his sleep talking had now progressed into sleep walking. You knew you should’ve woken him but you curiously trailed behind, through the living room, the kitchen, and into the gift shop.
A blue glow from the vending machine washed over Stan as he ambled towards it, thick fingers pushing the buttons. Was he just hungry, sleepily venturing for a midnight snack? You wouldn’t put it past him. You reached out a hand, ready to rouse him from his trance, when a strange whirring emitted from the vending machine.
Shock rooted you in place as the machine didn’t release any food but rather swung open miraculously on its hinges, disclosing a corridor instead. Stan never even hesitated as he just continued on, broad shoulders and bedhead disappearing around the corner.
Rendered motionless for several moments, you finally decided to go after him. Where was he going? He could hurt himself.
You shuffled into the corridor. An uneasy feeling descended upon you like the legs of a spider, brushing against every inch of your skin. The chill cutting through your robe told you that you were being led further under ground, finally emptying into an enormous room.
And it wasn’t even the size of the room that surprised you, but rather the gigantic metal contraption crouched to one side. From what you could tell it wasn’t working. A huge, darkened eye stared at you from the middle of the rafters.
A window?
A portal.
Stan had ceased his dreamlike ambling to stand before this machine, gazing up at it like it might offer him some kind of absolution.
Your voice, small and afraid: “Stan?”
The trance broke, a taut rubber-band snapped in the way that his shoulders rounded and he glanced around in confusion. You could only imagine the look on your face as he turned to you.
Your name left his mouth, panicked. “What are you doing here?”
“Stan, what is that? Where are we?” Hysteria gripped you. “What’s going on?”
“You shouldn’t be here,” Stan replied.
“Did you…did you make this? What is this?”
Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s go upstairs. I can explain all this. A’right?”
“No, Stan, I’m tired of all of the lies and the sneaking around. I’m staying here. And you’re going to tell me what’s going on.”
A defeated expression crossed his face. He went over to a panel of controls and leaned against it, hip and elbow. “Ya know I would never hurt ya on purpose, doll. I-I care about you.”
You wanted to soften. But you held yourself strong, heart fracturing. “Stan?”
“I guess I don’t know where to start.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, then slowly began to unravel the story that you had pieced together over the time. Except, this time, details were changed— the truth, you realized, not the altered version he had given you.
Everything you thought you knew about this man, this man that you loved, disappeared and took on a new form. The childhood in New Jersey accompanied by a twin brother. His years as a drifter a result of his father kicking him out, not a pursuit of freedom and independence. Even the Mystery Shack, his name, wasn’t his.
Stanley Pines, he said.
Stanley. Not Stanford.
And his brother wasn’t dead but lost in time, and he was trying valiantly to find him again.
“All of this, all of the lies…are for him. It’s my fault that he’s gone and I need to fix my mistake.” Stan’s voice had taken on a strained edge, on the verge of tears. “I’ve made so many but this one…this one I’m close to fixing.”
“You come down here to work on a…portal,” you said, not sure what else to say.
“It’s the only way.” Stan took a step towards you, then thought better of it. “I-I didn’t wanna lie. But I had no idea how much you would mean to me. It was one lie an’ then another and I couldn’t take any of ‘em back. Not without you lookin’ at me like how you are now.”
“I trusted you,” you breathed.
“I’m still me.” He flinched. “Well, kinda. Besides the name and everything. That hasn’t changed. The way I feel about you hasn’t changed.”
“What do you mean? Everything has changed,” you snapped, “Everything I know about you is a lie! I don’t even know what to think right now.” You shook your head as if to dislodge the torrent of thoughts. “You led me to believe that you were someone else. That your brother — who is actually you? — died. I grieved him with you, Stan. And you just lied to me again and again like it was nothing. How do I know I can trust you?”
“I’m tellin’ you, I didn’t want —”
“To lie? But lying is what you do best. It’s all clear to me now. I-I can’t do this. I need air.”
Your feet carried you without permission, away from the strange basement and the portal and Stan. Stanley. Not Stanford. You heard his heavy footsteps as he chased after you, one hand on your shoulder and spinning you to face him.
“Don’t go. Please. I can make this right.”
“No, you can’t.” You fought back tears as you looked at him, so heartbreakingly handsome and wounded and earnest. “I can’t be with someone who I don’t even know. Everything about us has been built on lies.”
He didn’t try and stop you as you stepped out of his grip and back into the gift shop, nor did he follow you. You shoved out onto the porch and into the greying, mushy snow, gathered in piles in the corners of the forest. You didn’t know where you were going, but you couldn’t be here.
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fandomnerd9602 · 24 days ago
Text
Our First Thanksgiving
Bambi!Wanda x Reader
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Gif belongs to @abimess
You couldn’t believe it. Halloween was a blast for you and your doe hybrid mate Wanda Maximoff. You and her had enter the ‘seasons of firsts’ as you would call it.
Thanksgiving was just on the horizon. Another first holiday for your doe and you. Honestly you loved having these firsts with her. It was like new experiences to share together, to feel the joy and elation that it allows was incomparable.
Your doe had traded her jean shorts for a comfy pair of PJ pants that she wore around the house. Her little deer tail popped out the back of the pants, in truth, it gave you another reason to stare at her perfect form.
One night, about two weeks before Thanksgiving, your mate in question came running into the living room and jumped onto the couch and into your lap.
“So what are we gonna do?” She asked, her doe tail wiggling with anticipation.
“About?” You asked her right back.
“Thanksgiving!” She exclaimed. “My family never celebrated it, you know being from Sokovia and all”
“Well it’s a feast,” you replied, “a time where we gather together and share what we’ve been thankful for over the year”
“She nuzzles you, her antlers fitting just over your head, “I think you know what I’m thankful for, my buck”
You kiss her nose in response. “I promise I’m gonna make this Thanksgiving a memorable one for you, my doe”
She giggles, “I know you will”
You had no idea where to even begin. Your mind races with ideas both good and bad as you walk down the hallways of the sanctuary.
“Hey boss,” Natasha said with a smirk, “need fuel? Your brain looks like it’s running on fumes”
Natasha, your ever loyal wolf hybrid pal guides you into the break room and pours you some coffee.
“So what’s on your mind?” She asks as she gives you coffee.
“Thanksgiving. I wanna make it special for Wanda.” You explain.
“My advice…make a few vegan dishes. She’s probably not gonna want direct turkey.” Natasha explains. “But prepare a small one for me, hey I’m a carnivore after all”
“Just inviting yourself huh?” You ask with a chuckle and a smirk.
“Am I not invited?” Natasha offers a mocking offense. “I’m your buddy, your pal!”
“Of course you’re invited Nat,” you smile at her, “you’re like my sister. Closest thing I had to a family for a long time, Yelena too”
Natasha smiles, her wolf tail wagging a little. “Make some turkey tofu for the future wife, some cranberry sauce, stuffing and a green bean casserole, you’ll be good”
“Future wife?” You look at her a little confused.
“Hey just calls it as I see it. I hear wedding bells for you and your doe in your future” Natasha laughs.
You couldn’t help but blush. You heard those same wedding bells too.
Thanksgiving had arrived. You worked on both the turkey tofu for Wanda and the regular turkey for your wolf hybrid pals. Natasha borough the green bean casserole. Yelena brought the cranberry sauce, joking that she got into several scuffles for it.
Tony handled thanksgiving dinner for the sanctuary. Doctor Strange led the festivities in your place.
You, Wanda, Natasha, and Yelena held a small intimate dinner at your apartment. You had a nice fireplace loop playing on your tv. Wanda and Yelena found themselves watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade while you and Natasha worked the kitchen. Eventually, everyone took their place at your small dining table.
Wanda sat next to you, holding your hand under the table. The dinner was nice and simple, conversations faded into something jovial. The wolves couldn’t help but embarrass you by telling Wanda all about your life before her.
Wanda couldn’t help but feel blessed. She had a small family there with her. She had two wolf sisters and the love of her life.
Little did she realize how quickly that little thanksgiving dinner set up would grow over time. Eventually Natasha had to bring a bigger fold out table.
Your first thanksgiving as a couple was also your first one as a family. And as far as Wanda could see, it was just perfect.
Tags @lifespectator @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @aloneodi @olsenmyolsen @russianredassassin @revanshand @texaswolf23 @multi-fandom-enjoyer @moonlit-imagines
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