#then my friends were over and i was drunk making apple spice cake and it was the most fun ever

[frootloopscereal]

alexa play December, 1963 (Oh, What A Night) by The Four Seasons

[bittysvalentines]

the other kind of upper crust

From: @whoacanada To: @ackermom

Summary: When the Zimmermann family throws a surprise engagement party, Eric finds himself overwhelmed by the guest list and thoroughly out of his depth. Jack takes the time to remind him he's right where he deserves to be.

Tags: Zimbits, Future Fic, light angst Happy Valentine's Day, ackermom! This is a concept I've been playing around with forever and I hope you love it because you might be seeing more of the party at a later date ;)

Not twenty four hours ago, Eric had been lounging in front of a fire in the den of the Zimmermann family lodge, getting drunk on Perrier-Jouët and watching the snow fall as he cuddled with his newly minted fiancé. 

Now, Eric is navigating the same, now crowded room to snag a glass of champagne from one waiter and some kind of crab cake from another as he slowly realizes the annual Zimmermann Boxing Day celebration has become an impromptu engagement party.

“So you’re the little spitfire that dragged Jackie out of his shell? Congratulations!”

For the nine-billionth time this evening, Eric does not know who he’s speaking to and has to formally introduce himself.

“So it would seem! Eric Bittle, and you are?”

“Mark.” The man takes his hand, gives it a hard shake, and Eric is at a loss because he’s been given no last name. Again. Jesus. “You have a few? Tell me about Samwell, Bobby’s been talking that school up and down forever, you must have been a hell of a Captain to get those boys to a championship, especially without Jack, how the hell haven’t you been scouted?”

Southern hospitality will always reign supreme in Eric’s life, but he finds it difficult not to be overly candid as he’s already answered the same line of questioning with at least six retired pros. 

“If I had to guess, it’d be the whole gay thing,” Eric taps his glass against Mark’s and winks, earning a boisterous laugh that seems to summon Eric’s soon-to-be father-in-law. Bob comes into view wearing a surprisingly elegant blue velvet suit jacket and a pair of light-up reindeer antlers that nearly take a tumble when he grabs Mark round the middle and gives him a good shake.

"This where you've been keeping Eric? Let the boy mingle, you old goat, it’s his party!”  

“Which was news to me,” Eric laughs, hoping the stress he hears in his tone is only in his head. Regardless, Eric takes the opening and slips away, past another throng of well wishers, an actress he’s definitely seen on Netflix, and someone he really hopes isn’t Celiné Dion. He’d been expecting hockey legends — of which, yes, there are many — but the ratio of rich and famous is far more skewed than he’d been expecting if the pile of gifts near the bar is anything to go by.  

Eric downs his champagne and slips out onto the patio to catch his breath, refusing to think about the optics of abandoning his own soiréee as he drops onto a bench overlooking the wooded backside of the property. 

Eric can see the moon through the clouds and the snow flurries, watches the light distort through the vapor of his breath.  He should probably go back inside and mingle, he’s starting to lose feeling in his fingers, but for the first time all evening, he’s enjoying himself. Someone opens the door behind him, spilling music and merriment out onto the porch and reminding Eric he really should go back in and enjoy his own party.

“There you are. What, you hiding?”

“Yes, I am.” Eric brushes some snow off the bench and waits for Jack to settles in, immediately leaning into the space Jack makes when he rests his arm over Eric's shoulders. Jack offers his mug, curls of steam warming Eric’s face as he takes a sip, detecting more than just spices and apple. “Did you spike this?" 

"There might be some Crown in there. You feeling any better?"

"I'm in a tuxedo, surrounded by our loved ones and their famous friends, and your parents just gave me this," Eric shoots his cuff to reveal the gleaming silver watch. "I’m bona fide, Sugar. Top shelf, grade-A Zimmermann approved.”

Jack whistles, taking Eric's wrist gently to inspect it closer, brushing a thumb along the bezel, angling the face so the small silver moon beneath the hands catches the light. It’s a beautiful piece, the nicest thing Eric’s ever owned, and what can only be the start of a lifetime of extravagant gifts from his wealthy in-laws.

“Papa had a whole speech planned. I told him you needed a break. Also didn’t want his proposal to be nicer than mine. You feel how heavy that is?”

Eric bounces his wrist as Jack watches, a smile quirking at the corner of his lips.

“It’s steel.” 

“It’s not steel.”

Oh, and isn't that just a lovely thought; receiving a gift that triples Eric's net worth in front of a sea of his betters on a night that’s already a panic-inducing celebration of Eric’s ability to weasel into the upper crust.

"Your mom filled me in on the championship tradition.” Eric rubs a hand over his chest, trying to ease the twinge of discomfort. "On the one hand, flattered, on the other, horribly embarrassed I'm not keeping myself together near as well as I’d hoped.”

“While it’s a relief not to be the one melting down in public, the good news is that people think you’re overwhelmed with joy.” Jack’s tone is just shy of apologetic. “Which is also what I was hoping, given the alternative is you’re freaking out because my parents went all out on an engagement party.”

“You told me this was a Christmas party,” Eric presses his face to Jack's chest, wishing he could drag himself out of his own head long enough to enjoy what has otherwise been a red letter evening. 

“Boxing Day.” Jack corrects softly. “And it was supposed to be an intimate, pleasant surprise. Imagine my surprise at how badly we stressed you out. What is going on? You're usually so good with social stuff, and you’ve been looking forward to the non-engagement version of tonight for weeks.”

“Just unearthing some self-worth issues, you know how it is; get confronted with the realities of marrying into your famous boyfriend’s wealthy family and start to question your place in the world.” 

“Is this about the watch. We can pretend it’s not platinum.”

Eric tries to play off the concern, but he's gotten something across, as Jack's hand comes to rest on the back of Eric's neck, fingers gently massaging muscles he hadn't realized were tense. He wants to cry. He just might. 

"Lucky for you avoidance is where I shine," Jack gives Eric's knee a little shake, dropping his fingers a touch to tickle the underside of his leg. “What do you say we get some of this negative energy out. Go hide in the rink out back.“

“Still amazes me you have a rink here.”

“What, that doesn’t strike you as being on brand?”

Eric twists away to only give Jack more access to his ticklish spots. Jack is chanting 'skate, skate, skate' under his breath with an earnestness that forces a smile to Eric's lips. 

"How is the solution to everything skating? Oh, my Lord, fine. Fine! Maybe it won't hurt to get a lap in."

Jack stands, stretching his arms high in celebration, making his suit jacket look two sizes too small before dropping them down again around Eric and hugging him tightly. "Lapin," Jack consoles, taking care to pepper kisses along Eric's hairline without mussing his coif. “I’ll get you something warm. You head to the shed. We'll call it checking practice."

"They'll think you're talking about sex,” Eric chides at Jack’s retreating back.

"Good thing we’re engaged, then, eh?"

Eric brushes the snowflakes from his slacks and follows the lighted path, staying on the shoveled walk but still managing to get snow in his dress shoes; knocking his foot against the mat, he notices a small plaque on the door, engraved 'Jack Laurent's Glacière - Est. 2009'. Eric scratches away a bit of frost to reveal 'Sin-Bin’ scrawled below the epitaph in Jack's familiar handwriting.

"Oh, hell's bells.” Eric breathes, putting together why the Zimmermanns would have gone to so much trouble to build a rink behind their winter home in 2009. As Eric gets the door open, he realizes it isn’t a ramshackle covered backyard pond, the ‘shed’ is a fully built private rink with boards, glass, and even a zamboni in the back corner. 

And Eric’s insecurity is back in force. 

He’s examining the ‘snack bar’, consisting of a small popcorn maker, a mini fridge, and a microwave, when Jack returns with a thermos shoved under one arm, two pairs of skates draped over his shoulder, one hockey, one figure — two of Eric’s many gifts from the Zimmerparents over the last few days.

“Hey. Feel like explaining why your vacation home has a nicer rink in it than the one I grew up training in?” Eric gestures around the rink at large wooden beams, the boards, the glass ceiling, a sanctuary built just for Jack. “Seeing as your name is on it.”

“Ha, well you get cool presents when you almost die and your parents think you’re suicidal.” Jack looks up and around, like he might find something new to inspect. “Was nice to get out of the city after rehab. I think we spent like eight months up here?”

Eric’s known Jack long enough now to recognize when he’s covering up his own pain, and this is not that. He’s genuinely joking.

“I’m really glad you didn’t die,” Eric offers, unsure of what else to say.

“Hey, no way, me too.” Jack smiles. “We have so much in common, maybe we should get married or something.”

Beside the door rests a rack of hockey sticks and shelf holding at least six pairs of skates in various states of disrepair. Jack brushes his fingers over a particularly ratty set of Bauer Supremes with ‘JZ’ in faded sharpie on the heel, nods, and grabs the pair.

“There’s no way those will still fit you,” Eric chides, lifting his own skates, the hockey set, from Jack’s shoulder to start loosening the laces. “But I really want to see you try.”

“Oh, they’ll fit. I was here before you got up this morning. I put new blades on every year and I’ll wear these until they fall apart.”

There’s a pleasant silence as they both sit to gear up, a far cry from the revelry a few short meters away. 

“I’m terrified you’re going to wake up one day and realize you’ve made a mistake choosing me,” Eric relents, keeping pace. “What do I bring to the table? I can cook, sure, but I have a worthless degree, I’m unemployed, one day I’ll probably look like my father —”

"We aren't our hobbies, Bits." Jack pulls a hard stop to kick up some ice shavings before doubling back and doing the same on the opposite side of the rink, scarring the ice. "Or our jobs. You aren't your culinary skills, and I'm not defined by hockey. We're just guys who love each other, who are going to get married, and despite current concerns, are very excited about the prospect. Also, not to make it weird, your father isn’t a hideous guy. I’ve met your family, you’ve got good genes.”

“Well, your dad is hot, too, I guess,” Eric sighs, spinning in a lazy circle.

“Thank you, I’ll pass that along he’ll be thrilled you think so.”

Jack pulls to a stop, his black slacks covered in bits of ice, suit jacket abandoned, showing off the white dress shirt straining around his midseason bulk; a pair of black suspenders working overtime to keep his ass looking as spectacular as Eric has ever seen it. 

"Bitty. Bits. Eric." Jack tugs off his gloves so he can take Eric's hands into his own. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Fuck, I loved you so much it circled around to hate and then back to love again."

"It's weird you'd mention that, like, right now," Eric's unable to keep himself from interrupting, and Jack's cheeks go pink from something other than cold. “While I'm already at critical emotional overload.”

“I love you. My parents love you. My parents�� friends love you. My teammates love you. You are very, very lovable.”

“Jack, I’m really not.” Eric’s voice wavers, but not because he’s lying. “And one day you’re going to figure it out and leave me.”

"Listen to me, Bits. I don’t know what you need to hear to make this okay, but there is no end date on us. No shoe to drop, no morning where we wake up and think about what could have been. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You can be scared," Jack circles around Eric, reaching for his hand. "Just, please, don't be scared of me.” 

Eric finds himself squished against Jack’s chest, inhaling his partner’s familiar sweaty musk and the remnants of a cologne he probably borrowed from Bob. He wants this so badly, and he wants it forever.

“I can be a little scared, though?” Eric asks. “Just a tiny bit. For perspective.”

“Of course. Fuck, I’m a lot scared right now.” 

“I love you, Jack.” Eric whispers, hiding his face. “I do. I’m sorry.”

“But, I don’t have any problem being scared of the future, as long as we’re freaked out together. Let’s be scared of real things. Like climate change. Baking using salt instead of sugar. Bears. The list goes on.”

“Keep talking about scary things,” Eric slides back, tugging Jack with him as he slips into an easy rhythm around the rink. “Keep talking. Make me feel better.”

Jack’s smile is broad and goofy, not his polished media smirk, the one he saves just for Eric. On the list of romantic gestures in their relationship, this one doesn’t rank very high at all, but it might be the most appreciated. 

“I can do that, bud. As long as you need.” 

[youarejesting]

BTS 365 Prompts

[Masterlist] Please tag me in your work if you use my prompts. I want to see your work. Ever your Jester. Seven boys and seven days.

Tell me your birthday and I will tag you on your special day!

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          January 8th - 14th

═══════ ೋღ ღೋ ═══════

Kim Seokjin: Nerd

You were trying to create an advertisement for a new Apple product and the model you were working with was super photogenic but the problem was he was too handsome. You wanted a cute nerd someone you would look at and sort of pity but still make you want to squish his cheeks. This young man was serving you looks like he was a buffet. You tried everything to make him seem dorkier but the glasses made him look more intelligent and handsome the nerdy shirts made him look more fun. There was nothing dorky about this handsome idiot. “What is the biggest bean in the world?” He said to the makeup artist and you listened in hearing the mirth in his voice “킹콩! (kingkong (bean in Korean is kong))”

You watched him pull his lip back exposing his teeth like a llama, you turned the camera towards him and started recording as he continued making his cringey puns. “What does a vampire drink in the morning? 코피! (Kopi (Ko means nose and pi means blood but sounds like coffee))” You were silently giggling behind your hand and you grinned taking the footage and making the advertisement. Including the caption “Even the dorkiest can use the new iPhone3X”

Min Yoongi: Energy

Working nights at the Petrol meant getting to work at 10pm and leaving at 5am, you had a car so you had no trouble but tonight, you were working with Min Yoongi. Yoongi was working out the back while you stood behind the counter waiting for customers. It had gotten quiet no longer able to hear Yoongi moving around, walking out the back to try to find him you came up empty. You went back to the counter maybe he was taking the bins out and yet after ten minutes he was still yet to return, you ran out back trying to be quick so you wouldn’t leave the counter unattended. You heard a small breathing sound and turned to the supply shelves. 

The top shelf held boxes of stock, the next shelf had cleaning supplies and buckets. The third shelf had towels and aprons, they were only used to be used to clean spills if the mop was unavailable, which means they have never been used and lying on top of them was min Yoongi curled up in the shelf taking a nap. You snapped a picture thinking you could show it to your boss but his alarm went off and he sat up rubbing his eyes. He patted the towels and grinned a gummy smile his hair a mess “I will take over, you can rest, I kept them nice and warm for you”

Jung Hoseok: Desk space @delightfuldela

You always sat on his desk, and he complained about the first few times you moved his potted plant, folders stapler and mug from the left side of his desk. But no matter how many times he complained you could see the smile hiding behind his eyes. That and he never kept anything on the left side of his desk anymore. You walked to his desk one morning you had both come in early. You sat on his desk and looked up to see him carrying your favorite beverage and his iced Americano. His heart shaped smile never leaving his face.

“I like my desk better when you are on it”

“Yeah cause you think my ass is the perfect paper weight”

Kim Namjoon: Marzipan

It was a blind date and your third this month people thought because you were single they have the right to push you into these awkward meet ups. As if they knew who your perfect partner would be, but they were wrong. They always were wrong. You wanted someone who could hold an intelligent conversation, someone manly with a bit of a cute side. But most importantly someone who knew when to have fun, because you were playful and very sarcastic. The man sitting there looked the part, maybe you would give him a chance.

“So I was thinking a spring wedding” You laughed and he coughed into his coffee and looked up at you. “I am trying to decide whether I walk down the aisle to If you want to be my lover by the spice girls or Cotton Eyed Joe by the Rednex”

He laughed wholeheartedly at this and his face turned serious in a split second “Don’t be stupid, Cotton Eyed Joe will be our first dance”

“Of course and you will follow my families tradition of wearing a kilt to your wedding and singing your vows” He nodded and the two of you spoke for hours about your fake wedding deciding on your color scheme which was Fluro Orange and Hot Pink alongside your dinner selection of fish fingers and chicken nuggets. And you couldn’t decide whether a ramyeon flavored cake would clash with the Marzipan fondant. So you both headed to your nearest cake shop to ask for some samples pretending you were soon to be married. 

Park Jimin: Round

The theme park was absolutely amazing you and your friends were having a wonderful time until it was time to get into the Ferris wheel, it was a maximum of six people per carriage. You were the seventh and judging by the group in front of you they had the same problem. Turning to the group of males one of them was telling the others adamantly that they should go without him. “Excuse me sorry to bother you but, my group has seven and well I am the odd one out, I was wondering if perhaps you would ride with me in a carriage.” 

He looked up and his mouth fell open and you took his hand, pulling him forward and smiled ignoring both groups teasing and the ride attendant who called you a couple and referred to you as each others girlfriend and boyfriend during her instructions. Which only made your friends snicker. But you two decided to play on it, you fixed his jacket telling him how handsome he looked and he pulled you in by the waist. Leading you into the carriage with a smirk. “Come on love”

Kim Taehyung: Morse Code

You sat on your hospital bed trying to concentrate on a crossword when yo heard tapping, it was going to a strange beat and you were getting kind of annoyed and you brought it up with the nurse and she said the rather eccentric patient next door had discovered a book on Morse code and was wanting to practice. You hummed and decided to google a quick alphabet chart and you tapped a code back ‘Hello’ he stopped and you repeated it and you heard the audible gasp from the hallway.

The days past and you both learn it rather quickly you were recovering well from your surgery a donor liver and he was the same having surgery a few days prior to yours for a set of kidneys. You both connected on similarities of life and you both got the clear your donor organs were healthy and you were finally allowed to step out of isolation as you were both classed as healthy adults with all your vaccinations and flu shots and everything. You pack up your things into a small suitcase and heard a tap on the wall. ‘Meet me in the hall, I can’t wait to see you��

Jeon Jungkook: Home

Being a taxi driver had its ups and downs, one of the downs was drunk passengers, who would vomit or pass out in his car or cause more damage than they were worth. But tonight he saw you, looking cute eyes glazed and pupils blown from drinking. You were practically asleep leaning against a street light staggering to the car giggling melodically. Jungkook felt his heart constrict at how adorable you were. “Where to?”

“Home” You slurred laying your head back and he grinned biting his cheek trying not to laugh.

“What’s the address?” he said

“What’s your name, Are you single?” You leaned forward looking at him he told you his name and said he wasn’t seeing anyone and you grinned “Jungkook, Jungkookie Kook Kookie, How long do you work every night, it’s quite late?”

“This is my last trip and then I am going home” He blushed looking forward and away from your flushed cheeks. “What’s your address?”

“Take me to Kookie’s House, Take me home”

Next Week

[emospritelet]

Pixie Dust - chapter 16

Two fluffy chapters in a row.  I’ll probably have to kill someone.  Still, angst and smut are hovering on the horizon, so there’s that :)

Anyway, the festive season is in full swing, and Neal and Ruby attempt to match-make

Also on AO3

Christmas Day began early, with warm cinnamon pastries and coffee, and the exchange of presents: books and music, chocolates and knitwear, whisky and wine.  Belle started on the turkey as Neal and Gold cleared away crumpled patterned paper and ribbons, their gifts sitting in piles waiting to be taken to their rooms.  Bringing the meal together was a feat of organisation and impeccable timing, but it was one she enjoyed, and she and Gold prepared roast potatoes, wedges of roasted squash and buttered collard greens.  There were pigs in blankets, crisp and chewy with bacon fat, spiced red cabbage cooked with red wine and apples, and a rich chestnut stuffing with fresh sage and thyme.  They sat down to eat at just after two, and even Neal was quiet as they ate their fill of the turkey and trimmings.  Belle drank a glass of champagne and another of red wine, the flavours of roasted meat making her mouth water, the alcohol flushing her cheeks.

Eventually they had eaten enough, and Belle caught Gold’s eye, grinning happily as she cleared her plate of the last of the turkey, and sat back with a sigh.

“That,” declared Neal, “was awesome!  Ten out of ten, you guys.”

“My pleasure,” said Belle, holding out her glass for Gold to fill.  “Although I don’t think I can move now.”

“Neal and I can wash up,” said Gold, ignoring Neal’s grumble.

“Can I have cake first?” he asked, and Gold sighed.

“Do you have hollow legs or something?”

“Yep.”  Neal winked at him.  “Just waiting to be filled with chocolate buttercream.  Come on, you know you want a piece!”

Gold winked at him, and Belle rolled her eyes.

“I’ll get it,” she sighed.

She cut three slices of the chocolate Yule log, putting them on plates with a scoop of thick brandy cream.  They all dug in, Gold and Neal making noises of enjoyment, which were cut off by the ringing of Neal’s phone.  He groaned, licking chocolate from his thumb and swiping the screen to answer.

“Hey Mum.”  Neal pushed up from the table.  “Yeah, Merry Christmas.  I tried to call earlier.”

He began pacing back and forth, before going out into the hall, but Gold and Belle could still hear one side of the conversation.

“Nah, it’s cool.  Dad and Belle did a kickass turkey, and now we’re having cake.”  There was a pause.  “Belle.  Dad’s roommate.  No, Belle.”  Another pause.  “Yes, obviously she’s a woman.”

Belle and Gold glanced at one another, amused.

“I don’t know, early twenties?  Why?”  Silence.  “Look, Mum, that’s not…”  There was a sigh.  “No.  Look, did you like your present?  Uh-huh?”  A pause.  “Great.  Yeah, thanks, I got the cash.”  Another long-suffering sigh.  “Fine, tell him I said hi.  Yeah, okay.  Love you.  Merry Christmas!”

Gold smirked a little, turning back to his cake, and Neal came back in the room, muttering under his breath.

“Is your mother well?” asked Gold, and Neal wrinkled his nose.

“Kinda drunk, I think,” he said.  “But yeah.”  He sat down at the table, picking up his spoon.  “Very interested to know what you’re doing ‘shacked up with a woman half your age like some old pervert’.  Her words, not mine.”

Belle giggled, ducking her head as she blushed, and Gold rolled his eyes.

“Charming as ever, I see,” he said dryly, and Neal shrugged.

“Yeah, well, you know how she is,” he said, cutting a piece of cake.  “She hates to think you might actually be enjoying yourself.”

Gold smirked.  “How unfortunate,” he said, and licked cream from his spoon.

Belle relaxed in the lounge after dinner, Gold and Neal cleaning up the kitchen while she sat back and drank a gin and tonic, her feet up on cushions.  They talked until late, the fire crackling in the background, music playing, and despite the lack of glamorous guests, expensive outfits and perfectly presented food, it was the best Christmas she had had in years.  It was like feeling part of a family again.

Neal flopped down on the couch next to her as the clock ticked towards eleven, and Gold walked back into the lounge from the kitchen, carrying fresh drinks.  Brandy swirled in the glasses, and Belle stood up to take hers.  Neal gestured at the ceiling light with a can of beer.

“I hung mistletoe from that thing days ago, and you guys aren’t following tradition,” he complained.

“You know, you can kiss a parent on the cheek without the need for a poisonous parasite hanging around,” said Gold dryly.

“Tell that to Killian,” grumbled Neal, and Belle giggled.

“Besides,” he added.  “I wasn’t about to kiss you, Pops, I was saying Belle should.  You know, since you’re too chicken to kiss her.”

Gold shot him a warning look, but Belle rolled her eyes.

“Fine,” she said, feeling wonderfully tipsy and uninhibited.  “I guess if it’s tradition…”

She turned to Gold, rising up on her toes, and kissed his cheek, making him blink rapidly.

“Lame…” said Neal, and took a swig of his beer.  “Come on, you can do better than that!”

“You’re grounded,” said Gold evenly.

“No, I’m not!”  Neal huffed air out through his lips, harrumphing like a horse, and Gold looked as though he was trying not to smile.

“Fine, then you’re cut off.  How many of my beers have you drunk, anyway?”

“Come on!” complained Neal spreading his hands.  “Don’t be a jerk, it’s Christmas!”

Gold glanced at Belle, and she grinned up at him, enjoying the teasing.  He looked nervous, and the smile fell from her face a little.  Oh.  Right.  Of course he doesn’t want to kiss you, you idiot.  It was a job, remember?  It meant nothing.

“You won’t burst into flames, Dad,” said Neal dryly and it was Gold’s turn to roll his eyes.  He reached up a little hesitantly, and cupped Belle’s cheek with a warm hand.  She could smell soap on his hands, and a faint hint of his own scent.  He shifted his feet, bending to press a kiss to her forehead, and she felt a shiver go through her at the feel of his lips on her skin.

“Guess I’m never getting a kid brother,” muttered Neal.

“Neal!”

“Kidding!  Lighten up!”  He pushed up off the couch, winking at them.  “Anyone for snacks?”

He wandered through to the kitchen, and Gold and Belle glanced on one another, before breaking into nervous smiles.  He gestured to the couch, and she sat down, cupping her brandy glass in her hands.

“Sorry about that,” he said, sitting beside her.

“It’s fine, I didn’t mind.”  She chuckled, sipping her brandy, and glanced across at him.  “Did you enjoy today?  I had a great time!”

“I probably put on about ten pounds, but yes.”

She giggled again, and clinked her glass against his.

“So that’s Christmas done,” she said regretfully.  “I guess we have to look forward to New Year.”

Gold had to work again the next night, and although Neal expressed surprise at some kid being eager enough to want a tutoring session during the holidays, he didn’t seem to think anything further about it.  Belle distracted herself from worrying while Gold was gone by planning for Ruby’s visit.  Ruby had said that she and Archie were driving up from Boston, and would be staying with Granny until after the New Year.  She reported nothing out of the ordinary; Gaston had been to visit again, to try to get her to tell him where Belle was, but she had sent him away with a tirade of insults, and had not seen him since.

Gold offered to take them to Granny’s for dinner while they waited for Ruby to arrive that night, and so they crowded around a table while Granny served up plates of steak and ribs and chicken.  Belle drank a beer with her meal, keeping an eye out for her friend, and was rewarded with a flash of red at the windows as Ruby and Archie passed by.  She pushed back her chair, leaping up, and ran to hug Ruby as she entered the diner.

“Oh my God!”  Ruby squeezed her.  “You look great!  Merry Christmas, or Happy New Year, or whatever the hell it is right now!”

Belle laughed, hugging her again.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you!  I tried calling, but I couldn’t get an answer.”

Ruby drew back pulling a face.

“Some asshole went in my bag when we were eating lunch,” she said regretfully.  “Stole my phone and my money.  I didn’t notice until we were almost into Maine.  Bastards.”

“We’ll get you a new phone tomorrow,” Archie assured her, leaning in to hug Belle, his glasses a little askew as he pulled back.

Pongo, Archie’s Dalmatian, was snuffling at her fingers, and she patted his head, gesturing to where Gold and Neal were sitting.

“Have you eaten?  We were just finishing up.”

“We ate on the way,” said Archie.

“Ready for a drink, though,” added Ruby, and Archie nodded with a smile as Granny came bustling over and pulled Ruby into a firm hug.

Gold and Archie got along very well, although Belle couldn’t imagine anyone not liking Archie, and Ruby and Neal settled for gently teasing one another, so Belle figured that her friends had been accepted into the family.  The next day Neal decided to spend some time with his friends, and so the others went for a walk along the snow-covered trails where Belle usually ran, Pongo quartering back and forth with his nose to the ground.  Ruby linked her arm through Belle’s as they walked, letting out a contented sigh as birds chirped and cawed in the trees above.  Gold was walking with his hands in his pockets up ahead of them, Archie by his side.  It sounded as though they were discussing psychology.

“They seem to be getting along,” remarked Ruby.

“I’m glad,” said Belle.  “It’s good to have you guys here for a few days.”

“Yeah, I’d forgotten how relaxing this place can be,” said Ruby looking around.  “Pongo’s in his element with all these woods.  We should visit more often.”

“No arguments from me,” said Belle, grinning at her, and they walked along a little further.

“So,” said Ruby glancing across at her.  “When are you gonna tell him?”

“Tell him what?” asked Belle, and Ruby rolled her eyes.

“You know, that you’re completely in love with him and want to have like four dozen of his babies.”  She stuck out her tongue as Belle looked outraged.  “Come on, don’t look like that!  I’m right and you know it!”

Belle opened her mouth to protest, but gave it up, sagging slightly.

“It’s complicated,” she said finally, and Ruby sighed.

“Look, that Gaston thing’s a bitch, I get that,” she said.  “But there’s no reason you can’t start thinking about the future.  At least talk to him about it.  If I catch the pair of you gazing longingly at each other once more I may just throw up.  Or lock you in the walk-in freezer at Granny’s.”

“Great,” said Belle dryly.  “You’d attempt to give your best friend hypothermia to prove a point?”

“You guys would totally share body heat, bang each other stupid, blow the refrigeration system and defrost all the lasagne,” said Ruby, grinning, and squawked as Belle shoved her.

“It’s not like that, anyway,” said Belle.  “We do not ‘gaze longingly at each other’.”

“Not when the other one’s looking, no.”

“I don’t even know if he likes me that way,” she added.  “Besides, he has crap going on in his life too.  Things he needs to close other people off from.”

“Like what?” asked Ruby curiously, and Belle shook her head.

“Just - just trust me when I say it’s complicated,” she said.  “There are - barriers - to us being together, on both sides.  I’m not sure I could get past them, and I don’t know if he even wants me to.”

Ruby sighed.

“At least tell me you’ll think about it when you finally get rid of the two hundred pound talking turd you married,” she said, and Belle giggled.

“Deal.”

The holidays passed all too quickly, and New Year’s Eve was upon them almost before Belle could take a breath.  She dressed carefully for the party at Granny’s in a dark red dress with matching lipstick, her hair twisted up on her head and high-heeled shoes that looked fantastic but made walking the frozen streets something of an adventure.  The diner, when they reached it, was filled with townsfolk chatting and laughing, and Belle hurried to hug Ruby and Archie as they pushed through the crowd.  Merida and Mulan had already started dancing, not letting a lack of music put them off, and Merida was singing an upbeat song in a heavy Scottish accent as they spun around.  Trestle tables were set up outside, loaded with plates of chicken wings and sandwiches and bowls of potato salad, chips and dip.  The air was freezing, but Granny had set up heaters around the tables and dance area, and the milling townsfolk provided further shelter from the cold.

It was the busiest Belle had seen the diner since getting to Storybrooke, and she was finding it a little much until Ruby pulled her away from the crowds around the buffet tables and towards the open area where the dancing would soon start.  A trio of short men were setting up their instruments, two others bringing amplifiers over, and Ruby grinned and bounced on her toes, clinking her glass against Belle’s.

“So,” she said.  “New Year, new start, right?  You feeling positive?”

Belle pursed her lips.  “Well, I have to meet with Gaston and the lawyers in a week,” she said.  “So maybe it’s a sign.  Maybe this will be the year I actually move forward.”

“You think Gaston’s going to cause a stink?” asked Ruby, and Belle sighed.

“I know it,” she said gloomily.  “Honestly, I’m dreading having to see him, but if it gets things over more quickly, it’ll be worth it.  Maybe if I settle for less he’ll be willing to let me go without a fight, I really don’t want to have to drag the thing through the courts.”

“You shouldn’t let him get away with not giving you what you’re owed,” said Ruby, and Belle shrugged.

“I know, I just want it over with,  This whole thing has been a nightmare.”

“Is he still seeing that woman?” asked Ruby.

“No idea,” said Belle, pulling a face.  “Probably.  God, she can have him!”

“That’s the spirit!”

There was the strum of a guitar, and she and Ruby jumped and looked around before giggling.  Belle kissed her cheek.

“I refuse to be depressed about my crappy soon-to-be-ex tonight,” she announced.  “We need less moping and more drinking, what do you say?”

“Here comes my man, right on cue.”  Ruby nodded to Archie, who had appeared with two glasses of wine in his hands.  She drained her glass, and Belle nudged her.

“Okay, so when are you two tying the knot?”

“When he asks me,” said Ruby coyly.  “If I don’t get tired of waiting and ask him first, of course.”

She grinned, reaching for one of the wine glasses as Archie approached, and leaning to kiss his cheek.

“Belle, I thought you might like a drink,” he said, handing her the other glass.

“You thought correctly.”  She kissed his other cheek, so that he sported matching lipstick prints.  “Now dance with your girlfriend.  I’m gonna mingle.”

Granny’s New Year’s Eve party was very different to what Belle was used to.  It was hectic and confused and filled with raucous laughter and occasionally terrible dancing.  Most people attended in their best clothes, tugging their collars and swirling their skirts and showing off new shoes that they would no doubt be cursing later in the evening.  And some attended in their everyday things: frayed jeans and plaid shirts and plain dresses, and had just as good a time as those that had dressed up.  Everyone drank a little too much and danced and sang, and she found herself being spun around by people she had never even spoken to.  The music was lively, guitar and fiddle, bass and drums, the band playing folk and bluegrass, and Belle danced until she was breathless.  It was a wonderful, noisy, glorious mess, and she loved it.

After a couple of hours of dancing and chatting and drinking, the band struck up a slower tune, and she found herself at the edge of the temporary dance area, a glass of punch in her hand.  She suspected that drinking the punch was the best way to ensure a hangover the next day, but Merida had insisted, and it actually tasted pretty good.  She watched, smiling, as Mulan and Merida danced an exaggerated waltz, both bright-eyed and flushed with alcohol.

“Care to dance?”

Gold’s voice made her smile, and she turned to face him.

“Having a good time?” she asked, and he gave her a tiny grin.

“Surprisingly, yes,” he admitted.  “I had a somewhat heated discussion with Archie about twentieth century American literature.  No blood was spilled, but it was a close-run thing.”

Belle laughed out loud at the image of he and Archie fighting.  Gold took a swig of his drink, and set the glass down on a nearby table, holding out a hand to her.

“You say he used to work in my field?” he asked, and she nodded, setting her glass next to his and taking his offered hand.

“So Ruby says.  For your agency, no less.  That’s how I got the number.”

“It’s strange,” he mused.  “I find myself wanting to talk to him about it, even though I barely know him.”

“Yeah, Archie has that effect on people,” she said knowingly, as he pulled her a little closer.  “He and Ruby met in a bar when she’d caught her ex cheating on her.  She ended up telling him her entire life history over Long Island Iced Teas and nachos.”

He chuckled at that, his hand sliding around her waist as hers slid up to his shoulder.

“Well, they seem very happy.”

“Yeah.”  Belle shot the couple a fond look.  “Opposites attract, right?”

“Sometimes.”  He began to move, turning with her in a series of small steps.  “Not always for the best, though.”

“Well, that’s true,” sighed Belle, thinking of Gaston.  “I’m glad it worked out for them, though.  True love won out.”

“So it would appear.”

There was silence for a moment, and they settled into the slow rhythm of the dance.  She could feel the heat of him through his shirt, and it was making her a little breathless.

“Ruby must be an understanding woman,” he said then.  “His - well, his other profession being what it was.”

“He gave it up when they got together,” said Belle.  “She’s cool with it, though.  Ruby never judges people on their pasts.  Unless they hurt a friend of hers, in which case they don’t get a second chance.  Ever.”

“Hmm.”  He looked amused.  “A good friend to have on your side then?”

“The best,” she said lightly.  “I think Archie knew from the first she was a precious thing and he couldn’t bear to let her go.  The poor guy was doomed!”

She grinned up at him, but his face was serious.

“I can understand that,” he said quietly.  “I don’t suppose she would have - well I doubt she’d have been happy with him carrying on, would she?”

“We haven’t talked about it,” said Belle, wrinkling her nose.  “Honestly, I think it was good timing more than anything.  He’d just finished studying when they met, and he was working to pay his tuition, so it all kind of fell into place.”

“Well, they’re very lucky,” he said.

They danced in silence for a while, and she enjoyed being able to touch him, with no awkwardness, no shying away as if the other were contaminated.  She wondered if things would ever be truly comfortable between them, and the thought made her want to sigh.  The lights were gleaming on his hair, and catching his fresh stubble, and she remembered how it felt to kiss him, how he tasted on her tongue.  She wished things were simpler.  He was gazing at her, his eyes dark and heavy with something approaching sorrow, and she bit her lip.

“You look so sad,” she said, her voice soft.  “I wish I knew what to say.”

Gold gave her a twisted little smile, his eyes gleaming, and his hand tightened on her waist as he turned her.

“I’m not really sad,” he said.  “Just - well, a little melancholy, I suppose.  Must be the music.”

“Melancholy is a kind of sad,” she pointed out, and he grinned.

“Yes, but it’s a kind of sad for pretentious people with English degrees.”

She giggled at that, and his eyes sparkled.

“See?” he said gently.  “No more melancholy.  Don’t be concerned for me.”

“You’re not pretentious,” she said, giving him a flat look, and he smiled.

“Oh, I’m a little pretentious,” he said.  “Ask any of my students.”

“Hmm.��  She was amused.  “I think I’d like to be one of your students.  I wouldn’t misbehave.  You wouldn’t have to chastise me, I swear.”

“Oh my.”  His grin turned wicked.  “There’s an image I probably shouldn’t have in my head.”

Belle giggled more, blushing.

“Not like that!” she scolded.  “I just meant - you’re kind, and you’re patient, and you’re really really calm, no matter what happens.”

“None of my students would recognise this charitable picture you’re painting of me,” he remarked.

“Well, perhaps you’re just that way with me, then,” she suggested.

“Perhaps I am.”

He stepped back on one foot, spinning her around and making her giggle again and cling to him.  Her head lolled against his shoulder, and she breathed him in, fingers clutching at the fine cotton of his shirt.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“A little drunk,” she admitted.

“Do I have to carry you home?”

“If you do, it’ll be because of these bloody shoes, not the booze,” she grumbled, and he laughed.

“Well, I’ll get you some water when we get back,” he said.  “No hangovers on my watch.  I won’t have your New Year ruined.”

She looked up and shook her head, sighing as they swayed back and forth.

“You worry about me way too much, you know.”

“I like to see you smile,” he said.  “I think you haven’t spent enough time smiling in this life, Belle.  You deserve to be happy.”

“I will be,” she said decidedly, and flicked her eyes up to him.  “I am, I mean.  I’m happy right now.”

“Good.  Then the New Year bodes well, doesn’t it?”

There was a flurry of activity near the makeshift stage, and some feedback through the microphone as Granny grabbed it, wine sloshing in the glass she held.

“Okay, folks!” she shouted.  “We’re getting close to midnight!  Grab your drinks and let’s kiss goodbye to one year and hello to the next!”

The dancing couples stopped still, and there was a scattered ripple of voices counting down from twenty, volume rising as they passed the ten-second mark.  Belle joined in, catching Ruby’s eye where she hung on Archie’s arm, glass raised high in the air.  She saw Mulan and Merida, clinging to one another, Merida with flushed cheeks and a wide smile, her hair like rippling fire.  Neal was standing on a table with both arms in the air and his head thrown back, yelling the numbers at the sky, and her eyes flicked back to Gold, who was watching her with a grin on his face and a gleam in his eyes.  Cries rang out, the townsfolk wishing one another a happy New Year, and impulsively she kissed his cheek, hugging him tight against her.  She felt him kiss her back, lips pressing against the side of her face, his hug squeezing the breath from her.

“Happy New Year,” she said quietly, her mouth by his ear, and she felt him smile.

“Yes,” he said.  “I think it will be.”

[nok-abadjuan]

Nokia Jade Crooks.

01 / BASICS

Full Name: Nokia Jade Crooks

Nickname(s): Nok, Kia, Kiki

Sex/Gender: Female

Birthday: September 27, 1998

Age: 18

Astrological sign: Aquarius

Occupation: Tattoo Artist

Spoken Languages: English

Sexual orientation: Bisexual

Birthplace: Tampa, Florida

Relationship status: In A Relationship

02/ PHYSICAL TRAITS

Race: White American, Black American

Ethnicity: Greek, Irish, African-American

Hair color/style: Black, curly naturally. Straightens it or wears it in curls or weaves.

Eye color: Dark Brown

Accent (if any): Southern Miami Accent, barely there

Height: 5″10

Weight: 150

Tattoos: Sleeve (flowers), wrist and hand (female)

Piercings: Ears, belly button

Unique attributes: High cheekbones, compared to Lauren London a lot

Defining gestures/movements: Pouts a lot

Posture: Regular

03 / PERSONALITY TRAITS

Pet peeves: Fake people, being lied to, being used, people who don’t cover their coughs or sneezes, people who don’t respect others opinions, weak ass niggas, copycats, passive aggressive people, people who can’t own up to anything, scaredy cats, when people tell you to do something as you're doing it, being betrayed

Hobbies/interests: Art, painting, drawing, walking around the mall, exploring places and things, hanging out, eating, watching youtube and going to the movies

Special skills/abilities: Very artistic but doesn’t really show it off, can do a split and back flip

Likes: Making friends, going out, laughing and being silly, cuddling, pumpkin spice lattes, baking desserts or pinning new ones from Pinterest, looking at herself in the mirror, looking at pretty women with nice bodies, going to sex store and buying sex toys to be goofy with and use, pranking, surprising people, reading conspiracy theories online, wikipedia is life, helping poor people

Dislikes: Being told what to do, being judged without being given a chance, sensing someone’s dislike for her or talking about her, people who talk about those less fortunate, being let down, fighting, arguing, not being given a chance, the dark, scary things like ghosts and monsters, scary movies,

Insecurities: Her weight, her shape, her hair, her past drug use and addictions, being easily controlled and persuaded to make others happy

Quirks/eccentricities: Dots her i’s with a heart, draws random doodles on any piece of paper in front of her, strongly dislikes the sound of chewing and hums a quiet song while eating, writes with left hand, but does everything else right-handed, loves to hug or touch on people

Strengths: Creative, love of learning, very wise and loving, really kind and sweet, cares about others, makes a great friend very loyal, forgives easily

Weaknesses: Gets in her feelings easily, very sensitive, gets her feelings hurt easily, easily irritated

Speaking style: Has kind of southern drawl, curses and says nasty things to be silly or funny, can be sometime ghetto in speech

Temperament: Bad temper, irritable, sensitive, emotional

04 / FAMILY & HOME

Family: Her father Gael and her mother Tammy do not get along. They hooked up the summer after senior year of high school when he broke up with his girlfriend and Tammy got pregnant. He went away for college with his girlfriend and eventually married her. He was barely in Nokia’s life and his wife now ex wife, forced him to stay out of Nokia’s life. She grew up with her white side of the family. Being the only dark one, she was picked on and set apart a lot. Her and her mother were kicked out her grandmother’s house and were homeless, lived in a woman’s shelter, then lived in a trailer with her mother’s boyfriend at 12, then they finally got their own 1 bedroom apartment. When she was 15/16 he took her mother to custody after his divorce and won custody over her because he had the money; being a surgeon. She moved to Miami to live with him and to live a better life, taking fun trips and having her own room.

How does (s)he feel about his/her family? She doesn’t like her maternal grandmother. She’s racist against blacks and thinks they’re dirty and did not forget to remind Nokia about herself and her father. She used to tell Tammy she was a slut for sleeping with a black man and having his baby. She called Nokia a porch monkey and little monkey. Called her a nigger whenever she was angry and drunk. Tammy and Nokia are close but they have their drifting moments. Nokia got her drug and alcohol habits from her mother. She used to buy her mother cigarettes and started stealing them to smoke with her friends. She started drinking alcohol because sometimes that was all there was in the house. They got high together a few times but Nokia got clean and her mother still struggles with her own addictions which she tries to hide but Nokia knows the truth. Nokia and Gael are now cooler than when she was younger and first moved in with him. She hated him because her grandmother filled her head with negative thoughts. She used to love when he came to see her or called her as a kid. She got older and realized he put his wife before her and hated him for it and the fact that she had to struggle growing up. They’re now in a better place because Nokia is learning how to forgive people and let things go.

How does his/her family feel about him/her? Her mother depends a lot on her. Since they kind of grew up together, being that she was young herself when she had her; they’re like sisters. Nokia’s father tries to do everything to keep her happy but shows his disappointment when she’s not happy with her. They both love her and she’s the only reason they’d ever come together but she never has asked them to, so they don’t see each other. They haven’t been in the same room in years.

Pets: None.

Where does (s)he live? Her father helped her get a small place but she’s breaking her lease because her boyfriend wants her to move in, so she’s living with him now in a really nice townhouse.

What is it like there? Enough rooms, beautiful from the outside, not much going on. Very calm atmosphere, quiet neighborhood.

Description of his/her home: Modern Townhouse.

Description of his/her bedroom: She sleeps in her boyfriend’s bedroom. Is moving in new furniture and they’re changing the decoration to be more neutral and sexy for the both of them.

05/ THIS OR THAT

Introvert or extrovert? Ambivert

Optimist or pessimist? Realist

Leader or follower? Depends on the situation

Confident or self-conscious? Self-Conscious

Cautious or careless? Careless

Religious or secular? Secular for the most part

Passionate or apathetic? Passionate

Book smarts or street smarts? Street Smarts

Compliments or insults? Compliments

Pajamas or lingerie? Pajamas

06 / FAVORITES

Favorite color: Black, Lavender, Lilac

Favorite clothing style/outfit: Tshirts, shorts, pants, sweatpants, dresses, heels, sneakers, flats. Has a girly but boyish style.

Favorite bands/songs/type of music: Yellowcard, Linkin Park, Paramore, Green Day, No Doubt, Gwen Stefani, Bob Marley, The Wailers, Peter Tosh, Shaggy, Destiny’s Child, Jodeci, TLC, Dru Hill, Xscape, B2K ,The Supremes, The Temptations, The Isley Brothers, Rihanna, Frank Ocean, Michael Jackson, Prince, Erykah Badu, Janelle Monae, Lauryn Hill, Chaka Khan, Ciara, Whitney Houston, Jazmin Sullivan

Favorite movies: Coming to America, Love Jones, Woo, Eve’s Bayou, Set it Off, The Grinch, Home Alone, This Christmas, The Preacher’s Wife, City of God, Cooley High, Juice, Losing Isaiah, Poetic Justice, The Wiz, Love & Basketball, The Last King of Scotland, The Princess and the Frog, Dreamgirls, Coming of age movies, cartoon movies, biopics etc.

Favorite TV shows: Atlanta, Insecure, Chappelle’s show, OITNB, Blackish, Power, The Proud Family, A Different World, The Boondocks, Girlfriends, One on One, In Living Color, Family Matters, Moesha, The Steve Harvey Show, Parkers, Talk shows, Court TV/Judge shows, crime shows, Half & Half, Survivor’s Remorse, Hey Arnold, Criminal Minds, RHOATL, Black Ink Crew, LHH, Fresh Prince

Favorite books: Monster, The Coldest Winter Ever, Kite Runner, Aesop Fables, The Wave, Desert Flower, Of Mice and Men, Number the Stars, Hunger Games, Life of Pi, The Giver, My Sister’s Keeper, The DUFF, The Lightning Thief, The Maze Runner, The Outsiders, Speak, Stargirl, The First Part Last, Tyrell, Good Girlz series, Kimani Tru books, Drama High series, Bluford High series

Favorite foods/drinks: Pasta, pizza with a lot of sauce, anything cheesy, fried chicken, buffalo wings with blue cheese, McDonald’s fries, slushies, homemade lemonade, gummy bears, skittles, zebra cakes, saltine crackers, apple juice, grape juice

Favorite sports/sports teams: None

Favorite actors/actresses: None

Favorite time of day: Night Time

Favorite weather/season: When it’s chilly outside or it rains and thunderstorms, warm breezy days

Favorite animal: None

07 / MISCELLANEOUS

Fears/Superstitions: Other people dogs scare her, scared of the dark, scary movies, ghosts, monsters, scary stories

Political views: None

Religion/philosophy of life: Believes in God but doesn’t go to church, wasn’t brought up in church, only knows basic biblical stories everyone else knows

Allergies: Spiders

Addictions: Used to have a drug and alcohol problem. Heavy drugs like cocaine, LSD, shrooms and weed

Best school subject: She was always good in math, gym class and art

Worst school subject: Hated science

School clubs/sports: None

How does (s)he get money? Tattoo Artist and her father gives her something like an allowance

How is (s)he with technology? Very good with technology and social media

08 / PAST & FUTURE

Fondest memory: Going to the kids choice awards with her dad when she was 12.

Dream vacation: Anywhere with water, beach, sand and beautiful tourists spots

Best thing that has ever happened to this character: Rose Kairi Knight

Worst thing that has ever happened to this character: Being addicted, trying to fit in, her upbringing, doing things for attention, being jumped and bullied, being physically abused, getting hit by a car

What does (s)he want to be when (s)he grows up? She never really had dreams or thought about that

Perfect date: Anywhere as long as the conversation is good and they can both laugh and make memories

[visiononion28-blog]

drop cornbread biscuits

This past Saturday, we hosted our second Friendsgiving, stuffing 17 people in an apartment that has no business holding 17 people, but it’s okay, there’s wine for that. Our first one was in 2016; you can read about it here. I took 2017 off because I was a teensy bit busy book touring for Smitten Kitchen Every Day** It was fun to be back.

When having friends over, I like to get everything done that I can in advance and I do this for completely selfish reasons: I want to enjoy my party, too, and I can’t if I’m scrambling around all day and am bone tired by the time food comes out. But last week was abnormally busy and I only got to grocery shopping on Thursday, only to discover that one week before Thanksgiving, it’s like tumbleweeds, the lull before the weekend stampede, all past-prime rosemary and other sadness. I almost cancelled but my husband miraculously found almost everything that evening, and instead I did a very beautiful, highly recommended thing: I nixed a few things on the planned menu and swapped more complicated ones for simpler recipes with shorter ingredient lists but high reward. Here’s the menu, a few details, and completely random tips:

—

* Herb and garlic baked camembert: This is in Smitten Kitchen Every Day and there will never be an SK party without it. In fact, it’s gotten so popular that my friends and family make it now too, so I outsourced it. My SIL brought three, we heated them here. It was so nice to have one less thing to do.

* Bacon-wrapped dates: No recipe, but there are a gazillion on the web. I don’t stuff them (I did it once and it was way too pesky, especially given that they’re good without stuffing) and no dip. We made a ton and they were gone quickly; my daughter called them “bacon candy.”

* Turkey: In 2016, I did a hybrid wet brine from a bunch of sources. It was delicious but not worth the logistical nightmare. And mopping. This year, I made The Judy Bird, a Thanksgiving application of Zuni Cafe’s famous roast chicken. There are many dry brine recipes out there but this was the simplest and why make something more complicated unless you know it’s necessary? Based on the turkey reviews, I don’t think it needs anything else. My changes are that I baste it with a melted 1/2 cup of butter, and then when I’m out of butter, the pan juices, and this year, I put quartered red and yellow onion wedges in the bottom of the pan (tossed with a little oil, salt, and pepper) and friends, they were glorious after getting caramelized and lightly charred in turkey-butter drippings for a few hours. Here’s a logistical tip I don’t think enough recipes make clear: You want to rest your turkey for 20 to 30 minutes before carving it, tented lightly with foil. It’s then going to take 15 minutes to carve (I had a friend holding a YouTube video tutorial in front of me because I’m very bad at it.) This gives you 30 to 45 minutes of empty oven time where you can reheat sides, which is more than most need. I have a single, not big, not great oven and it was all I needed. [I mean, needs being relative, just in case Nancy Meyers is out there and wants to lend me a set kitchen and the life that goes with it next time.]

* Gravy: I really ought to write up a recipe one day, huh, but I use a basic formula of 1/2 cup butter, 3/4 cup flour, 8 cups chicken or turkey stock, a splash of dry marsala or sherry to deglaze the pan, and a lot of salt and pepper. (You cook this the way you would a bechamel.) When your turkey is done, if you want to separate the drippings, you can replace any of that butter with fat and any of that broth with juices. Or you can skip it! The gravy will have a less nuanced turkey flavor, but it’s still pretty awesome, especially if you have homemade stock. (In a freak bit of luck, I discovered two quarts of this in the freezer from last winter and used them for the gravy, stuffing, and more.) I make the gravy right in the bottom of the roasting pan, stretched across two burners; this way I can scrape up all the good, flavorful bits. If you don’t use the dippings to make gravy, I highly recommend you use them to drizzle over the sliced turkey, to keep it as moist as possible when you serve it.

* Stuffing: I also owe you a recipe for this but although I have two stuffing recipes on this site that I adore, I made a simple challah stuffing instead — although I made it decidedly less simple by making my own challah. Each loaf will make enough bread cubes to easily fill a 9×13-inch dish. I made mine with just celery, onion, and herbs, but you could easily sauté some mushrooms, diced apples, pancetta or crumbled sausage in too. Oh, and definitely make enough to have leftovers; this is important.

* Cranberry sauce: I went old-school with this, with a very early recipe on this site. I wanted something on the sweet side because my friend Ang was bringing a more savory one with tomatillos. Both were delicious.

* Green bean casserole with crispy onions: Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it (homemade). I make the green beans extra firm (just 2 minutes, then into ice water), then the mushroom sauce. Cool them both fully before mixing them. This goes in the fridge overnight. I’ll fry the onions — always make more than you need — and keep those separate until we’re about to eat the warmed casserole.

* Slow-roasted sweet potatoes: Once I realized I’d have no time for the root vegetable gratin I’d originally planned, I added these and 10/10, would recommend because the ingredient list is basically nonexistent. I baked them for the 2 to 3 hours before the turkey goes in, because they need a lower temperature. Broil them to get a good color on the skin. Leave them out while the turkey roasts (they’ll stay decently warm for a couple hours) and rewarm them just before eating. We served these in 2-inch segments, skin and all, and I was texting the recipe to friends demanding it even before going to bed that night. It’s that good.

* Stuffed mushroom casserole: My friend Ang brought this too and it was delicious. (She thinks it needs more cheese, though. I had no complaints!)

I didn’t make any pie at all! (Although my friend Molly brought a mincemeat pie with a cheddar crust and it was wonderful.)

* Bourbon pumpkin cheesecake: I made this in a 9×13-inch pan to cut as bars instead. Same recipe. Same temperature. However, you’ll want 1.5 or even 2x the crust, and it bakes in about 30. Seriously. It’s awesome.

* Perfect Manhattans: Because why not. I made two carafes of them, just scale up the recipe until you run out of an ingredient or carafe space. Friends can pour or shake it over ice; leave cherries or orange peel strips on the side.

* Cranberry crumb bars with mulling spices: This is in The Smitten Kitchen Cookbook.

—

Finally, as always, I have a last minute recipe for people who do things at the last minute. It’s never my intention, but it’s consistently my reality. I made these biscuits the first time over the summer, a season where we eat outside and act like it’s no big deal (waah), for a 4th of July ribs fest along with slaw and corn and all of those summery things. So, they go really well with warm weather. But they’re also a great quickie dinner roll, or even a fun addition to a breakfast-for-dinner night (like we had last night) with scrambled eggs and bacon. They take 5 minutes to put together and 15 to bake and there’s nothing not to love about that. They’re craggy and crisp on the outside and plush within, perfect for splitting open with your fingers, buttering, drizzling with honey, and finishing with flaky salt or nestling into the side of your holiday plate.

Previously

One year ago: Endive Salad with Toasted Breadcrumbs and Walnuts Two years ago: Root Vegetable Gratin and Cheesecake-Marbled Pumpkin Slab Pie Three years ago: Kale and Caramelized Onion Stuffing, Apple Cider Sangria and Date, Feta and Red Cabbage Salad Four years ago: Sticky Toffee Pudding, Pickled Cabbage Salad and Pretzel Parker House Rolls Five years ago: Perfect Uncluttered Chicken Stock, Cranberry Orange Breakfast Buns, Green Bean Casserole with Crispy Onions, and Apple-Herb Stuffing For All Seasons Six years ago: Granola Crusted Nuts and Spinach Salad with Warm Bacon Vinaigrette and Gingersnaps Seven years ago: Sweet Potatoes with Pecans and Goat Cheese, Creamed Onions with Bacon and Chives Eight years ago: Sweet Corn Spoonbread Nine years ago: Moroccan-Spiced Spaghetti Squash and Chard and Sweet Potato Gratin Ten years ago: Mushroom and Barley Pie Eleven years ago: Roasted Stuffed Onions and Simplest Apple Tart [New!] Twelve years ago: Cranberries: Candied, Fruity, and Drunk

And for the other side of the world: Six Months Ago: Pasta Salad with Roasted Carrots and Sunflower Seed Dressing 1.5 Years Ago: Rhubarb Upside-Down Spice Cake and Tall, Fluffy Buttermilk Pancakes 2.5 Years Ago: Failproof Crepes + A Crepe Party and Crispy Tortellini with Peas and Proscuitto 3.5 Years Ago: Crispy Broccoli with Lemon and Garlic, Not Derby Pie Bars, Liege Waffles, and Mushrooms and Greens with Toast 4.5 Years Ago: Strawberry Rhubarb Crisp Bars and Five Egg Sandwiches

** have you bought it? There’s so much great Thanksgiving and holiday stuff in there, like a chocolate pecan slab pie, a kale caesar that we have out at almost every dinner party, a wild mushroom shepherd’s pie, and a few of my favorite cookie recipes, ever. Between now and December 12th you can order either my first book, The Smitten Kitchen Cookbook, or Smitten Kitchen Every Day, my second with a custom inscription of your choice from The Strand and it will arrive by Christmas.

Drop Cornbread Biscuits

Servings: 8 to 12

Time: 20 minutes

Source: Land O Lakes

Print

Shown here are 8 large biscuits; you can make 12 smaller ones, just use the short end of the baking time range.

1 3/4 cups (230 grams) all-purpose flour

2/3 cup (90 grams) cornmeal

1 to 2 tablespoons granulated sugar (use 1 for a more savory biscuit)

1 tablespoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon fine sea or table salt

1/2 cup (115 grams) cold butter, in cubes

1 cup (235 ml) cold buttermilk (buttermilk substitutes)

Heat oven to 450°F. I covered my baking sheet with parchment paper but it shouldn’t be strictly necessary, and many shouldn’t go in this hot of an oven, so use your own discretion.

Stir flour, cornmeal, sugar, baking powder, and salt in the bottom of a large bowl with a fork or whisk. Add butter and toss to coat cubes in dry mixture. Use your finger or a pastry blender to break the butter into smaller and smaller bits, until the largest is pea-sized. Add buttermilk and stir once or twice, until a dough comes together.

My very scientific method of dividing the dough evenly is to press it gently into the bottom of your mixing bowl into roughly a circle. Cut into 8 or 12 wedges. Pull out one triangle of dough with a soup spoon for each biscuit, pressing it into a craggy, messy ball, then drop it onto your baking sheet. Repeat with remaining dough.

Bake for 12 to 14 or 15 minutes; smaller ones should be done at 12, larger ones at 14 or 15. Remove from oven and serve warm. Biscuits are best on the first day. On the second, gently rewarming them will improve the texture.

Source: https://smittenkitchen.com/2018/11/drop-cornbread-biscuits/

[mycasandstarrs]

SPN 10x12: “About a Boy”

J.P.

“This is freakin’ America, man.” He’s that guy, huh.

Bye bye, J.P.

“Ashes, the Rain, and I” by James Gang.

“Caught a case. Apparently something is taking people and leaving their clothes.”

“Hmm. About time this gig got an ‘R’ rating.”

lol

You can’t just toss aside a tablet like that.

“Look, I know you’re worried about the Mark.”

“Yes, Sam. I am. Between what I did to Charlie—”

“Charlie forgave you. How about you forgive yourself?”

THANK YOU.

“I smelled flowers, though.”

“You smelled flowers? What kind of flowers?”

 lmao. What does that matter?

“Flowery flowers.” Great response.

“Look. We all know what’s going on here, okay?”

“Don’t say it.”

“Aliens.”

“He said it.”

lmao. Dean’s own version of ‘Hoe don’t do it”.

“Only a Matter of Time” by Headwater.

“Look, I’m sorry to hear about what happened. But… guy’s a lowlife. That night, I had to kick his ass out of here for stealing my tips. Whatever J.P. got… probably had it coming.”

“Ouch.”

Took the word out of my mouth.

“J.P. wasn’t that bad.”

“You knew him?”

“This isn’t exactly ‘Cheers,’ but yeah.”

Aww.

Oh, Hansel’s there, scoping out for more vics.

Tina.

“How do you know the Royale Motel in Scranton?”

“My Dad, me and my bro – we got snowed in there for a week.”

“Well, I was there for about three months after my father drank all our money away. Lived on white rice and Tic Tacs until they kicked us out. Good times.”

I always did like her.

“My Dad was always working, so I came up with about 101 different ways to make macaroni and cheese.”

“Serious?”

“Oh, yeah. Now, add ketchup for spice, hmm? Uh, tuna, hot dogs, fluff marshmallow mix.”

“Ugh! That sounds disgusting.”

I’d try it.

“I should go. Before you fall hopelessly in love with me.” A little late for me.

“Turns out J.P. was about three days from getting evicted. His landlord said the guy blasted Neil Diamond 24/7. And that his bathroom was, ‘Like staring into the Devil’s butt.’” lmao. How descriptive.

“Sammy, I think I got something.” Head on over there, Sam.

Tina’s gone. Now Dean is too.

The return of Dylan Everett!Dean! Always a delight.

Young Tina.

lol

“Tina, Tina, just—I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, okay? Well, anything else happen to you.” Good correction.

“This is crazy. How are you so calm?”

“Practice.”

He’s a damn pro.

Young J.P.

“This is freakin’ America, man! You can’t do this!” He’s still going on with that.

“Hey, buddy? Where did that jacket come from?”

“My Bar Mitzvah.”

You’re in big trouble now, dude.

Nicely done, Sam.

“They probably poisoned it.”

*Dean is already halfway through eating the cake.*

LMAO DEAN.

“You know, before…I thought you were just another drunk.”

“I prefer functional alcoholic.”

“Seriously, who – What are you?”

He’s a living legend.

The bartender took the suit, but he didn’t take the shoes or gun?

Tina takes one for the team.

Yarrow.

You pulled a gun out on a teen?

Sam’s face!!

“I got no grass on the infield, and a girls’s gonna die. Sorry if I’m not in a chatty mood. Look, you wanted me back in the game. I’m back in the damn game.“ Dylan is a fantastic younger Dean. He’s got the mannerisms and way of speaking down to a T.

So polite!!

“Wait, uh… maybe I should drive?” They’d probably get pulled over by a cop thinking Dean’s too young to drive. There’s also the matter of Sam’s legs getting squashed, lol.

“Cake. Why would they give you cake?”

“Well, don’t know. It wasn’t even good cake. Too dry.”

Ha, Dean has a standard for cakes.

“There was a Taylor Swift song on the bus that I hopped to the motel, and, uh…I liked it, Sam. I liked it a lot.” fff ahahaha. So much shame hangs in his words.

“My voice is weird, and I’ve got like nine zits, and I have zero control over this. I mean, it’s up. It’s down. It’s up for no reason.”

“That’s enough. Yeah, thanks. Uh, let’s just call it puberty.”

“Yeah, which sucks. Again.”

LMAO. I wouldn’t want to be back in my 14 year old body again, so I’m sympathizing with young Dean-o here.

The one upside to this: “The mark is gone.”

“Wait a second. Are you saying you want to stay like this?”

“No! No, but…if it’s between being a psycho rage monster/borderline demon or a teenager, well…”

Yeah, is it so hard to at least consider it?

“Some good news, though—virgin liver. So, what do you say when we’re done doing our hero thing, we take her for a test-drive?”

“Yeah, sure. I mean…you can drink again in, what, like seven years?”

“That’s not funny.”

“That’s kind of funny.”

It’s hilarious.

There’s the yarrow.

“First time you ever had to say that, huh?” LMAOOO.

“Big talk coming from the dude wearing Underoos.” AND THE COMEBACK IS JUST AS GREAT, BLESS.

Hansel.

“If you’re going to fry that candy-coated bitch, I want in.” ~Sure~.

“Tell me how to turn him back.”

“Sam, it can wait.”

“Tell me how!”

“The hex bag that I’m wearing. It will reverse the spell. Squeeze it, and you’ll return to your proper age.”

You got your answer, now go kill that witch.

“Your friend J.P. didn’t have much meat on his bones.” I can call it now: RIP J.P. Killed by the witch.

“Oh, don’t worry, liebchen. You’re too good for soup. I’m thinking a nice, sweet chili glaze, a few hours roasting in the oven. And an apple in your mouth.” Oh what joy!

Well, crap. Stupid freaking lighter.

“Hmm, in the olden days, if a child went missing—ah, the young died all the time. Now, though, with all your AMBER Alerts and your milk cartons, a person fillets one rugrat, and people get so angry.”

“Yeah, I blame Obama.”

LMAO.

“European children are more, uh, free range, gamier. Americans, though -- ooh – they are heaven. Fattier. The meat, so finely marbles, it’s almost buttery. I just can’t get enough.”

“Mmm. Awesome.”

“No! I am in awe. This is my first visit to your country. And I have to say God Bless the U.S.A.”

Thanks lady.

Wait, she gets to be part of the Grand Coven, but Rowena got kicked out???

Would’ve liked to have seen young Sam

RIP Hansel. Killed by Dean.

RIP witch. Killed by Dean.

Oof, that’s horrifying.

“That was crazy. Like psycho crazy.” Crazy town banana pants crazy.

Tina can’t turn back to an adult...but she’s gonna work with it.

They gave her all their money!! How sweet.

“We’ll always have the Royale motel, right?” Tina’s dope.

“So…Grand Coven. Any ideas?”

“Doesn’t sound good.”

“Well, sounds like an 80’s hair-metal band. You know, lot of hair spray, lot of eye shadow, lot of keytar.”

Grand Coven would be a great band name.

Damn right, he did.

“Look, man… do I wish the mark was gone? Yes, of course. Absolutely, I do, but… I wanted you back. And now here you are, and you didn’t Hulk out, so… I’ll take the win. As for the rest of it—the mark, everything else…we’ll figure it out. We always do.” We always get that spiel, but I always enjoy it.

“Shake It Off” by Taylor Swift.

Enjoy your music, babe.

[ohsweetsweettooth]

All you knew was this man was very, very familiar, and his name. His name was Donovan, and right now, Donovan was holding you tight and wailing, sobbing. He was so happy to see you again, he hoped this wasn’t a dream or he was hallucinating. He had cried for a while, and all you could do was just hold him.

You two must have been friends. He held your face for a moment, and started weeping again. Finally, you found your voice and wiped his tears.

“You’re Donovan, right?”

He said yes through his tears, somehow able to hold you closer. You felt at home in his grip, it sent butterflies down your spine, and made your chest flutter.

“You were my world, Spice,” he managed to whisper. “I thought… you were gone forever.”

Boyfriend? Was he your boyfriend? Or a very close friend. After all, this seemed like his bathroom, you had no use for a toilet.

“I’m here now,” you said. You noticed his pale skin. He had pointed ears and black hair. You hadn’t seen his eyes, but you were sure he was a vampire. How did you manage to become friends with a vampire? Well, you had sweet blood, maybe you were his snack. You wouldn’t mind being his snack. “Am I at your house?”

“Yeah,” he wiped his eyes and looked at you, tears spilling down his cheeks. His eyes were beautiful, like candied apples. “S-sorry if it’s messy… I’ve been tryin’ to clean it up. A-am I dreaming, Spice?” he sounded so sorrowful when he asked, holding on to you hands as if you would disappear when he let go.

“Am I?” you asked. “Don’t you have to count your fingers or something to see if you’re dreaming?”

He looked at his hands, but deemed them not good enough. Laced his fingers with yours and put his forehead against yours, a small smile coming to his face.

“I don’t know… But I love you,” he said gently, voice cracking. “Christmas… That was hard without you.”

“That’s my birthday, right?” you asked softly, wiping his tears. “I’m sorry I caused you so much pain, Donovan.” You felt terrible about hurting this beautiful man.

“T-that’s your birthday… An’, it wasn’t you, sweetcheeks… I don’t wanna think about it no more, Spice, I don’t wanna think about what happened at all,” he sniffed. “I just wanna let you know that I’m so sorry, babe, that I couldn’t be that big, strong man when I needed to be, baby, that I couldn’t help you when I gave my all.”

You had no idea what he was talking about, but you hugged him tightly. Hearing him so miserable hurt. You were sure he tried his best, but losing you, someone who was apparently his world, in the process, must have hurt so much.

“I’m okay now,” was all you could really say. “Thank you for bringing me back, Donovan.”

He squeaked and cried again.

*

Bottles of alcohol littered his living room. Stale wine, vodka, rum, all foul smelling and almost gag-worthy. They overfilled the green bin he was keeping them in. The trashcan, too. Smelled like stale cigarettes. Kind of like his sweat.

“I-I wanted to clean up,” he was afraid you would disappear if he took his eyes off you, if he let your hand go. “I was gonna do it tomorrow, but…”

“I can help you,” you offered.

“We have to get you dressed first,” he sniffled. “You-you’re walkin around naked, babe. I gotta- I kept the clothes… Washed em.” he lead you to the closet. Fear coursed through you and you stepped back violently from it. This startled him as much as it startled you. Was that his hand trembling, or was it yours?

“I-I…” you brought your fingers to your mouth and bit them, holly leaves down and quivering. “I don’t like the closets.”

“O-okay,” He sounded uncertain, but cleared his throat. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea.” he didn’t want to turn away from you. You didn’t want to make him feel this way, but it was happening.

“It’s okay, Donovan,” you liked saying his name. “I’ll still be here when you turn around. You’re probably uncomfortable with me naked…”

“I’m not,” he said. “I just have people comin’ over soon… They usually check up on me.”

“What for?”

He said he didn’t want to get in to it, and was very worried about turning to the closet.

“I love you,” he said.

“I’ll still be here when you turn around, Donovan,” you repeated.

“O-okay,” he cleared his throat, held his breath, and turned around and opened the closet. You didn’t focus on the closet, the fear surging through your veins, the panic sinking into your stomach and sending chills through your body. As soon as you looked up at him, the door was closed and he was looking at you, relieved, eyes red and puffy from crying. He had a familiar looking shirt and shorts in his hands, some underwear too. You put it all on, and he went to his end table, pulling a gold chain with a charm on it from beside a picture frame. “Here…”

“I had good fashion,” you smiled awkwardly. His eyes went wide at your smile, and you felt compelled to hide your own in shame. You had a feeling people didn’t like your smile.

“I missed you,” he whispered, putting the necklace around your neck, fingers brushing against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “I missed everything about you. After all this time, your smile still fuckin’ gives me butterflies. I would look at your selfies all the time, with that amazin’ smile.”

“R-really?”

“I fell in love with it,” he said quietly. “I wanted to make you smile every chance I could.”

You wanted to cry. And you did, kissing him and hugging him, kissing his neck tenderly and kindly until he let out a groan, until you could feel how firm he was. He seemed confused, but he also wanted you to continue.

“R-right, this isn’t Cadonia…” you were acting vulgar and disgusting. You should be ashamed. “I’m so sorry, Donovan, you were so nice to me, and I forced myself on you.”

He gave a sheepish smile. “I was used to it. You would do it a lot, even before we were together. Made a lot of my dates jealous how I’d let you hickey me but not them.”

You giggled, and his eyes lit up.

You two kissed. Well, made out. His body was familiar territory, his weak spots, his secret spots, his scent and musk, his whimpers and growls, his sharp teeth teasing you. Nothing top vulgar happened, other than some grinding, and you were sure you were pushing it. Yes, he loved you, and you knew you loved him, but fucking him? Right now? He was probably in a daze seeing you walking around. Think about his mental state.

“I-I got you a shiny,” he said distractedly. “You wanted a shiny Slurpuff.”

What? What did that even mean? “Is that jewellery?” you asked quietly.

“Pokemon,” he said, face as red as his socks. “Pokemon X. Kalos has a lot of Pokemon.” he might as well have been speaking in a different language. He was in shock, you were sure, so you let him give the shiny to you.

This game was vaguely familiar. Your person was cute. You were a human, though. You already had a ‘Slurpuff’ on you, but his was cuter and had better IVs and EVs because he trained it.

“He’s got a great movepool,” Donovan sounded hoarse. “Good moves. Level 100.”

“Thank you, Donovan,” You said honestly and kissed his cheek. He seemed stunned and kissed your cheek back. “I like him! Did you name him Shortcake?”

He nodded.

“Thank you!”

“Thank you,” he repeated weakly.

*

The knock at the door startled you. You were enjoying your time in Donovan’s arms, holding him and kissing him, falling in love all over again. He seemed annoyed, not wanting to answer.

“Who is it?” he called. His voice carried.

“Marrubi and Kelly,” you smelled Strawberey cake. “Are you decent?”

“Who are they?” you whispered.

“The only ones who stuck with me through all my bullshit,” he sighed. “I owe 'em a lot.” He called, “Door’s open.”

“Yeah, we know, but last time your door was open, you were drunk off your nut and–” the human woman let out a loud gasp as she saw you, covering her mouth and squealing, hopping around. “Spice!!! Spice is back!!!” he hugged you– well, almost, Donovan was very protective right now, and held you closer than a jewel.

“Hello,” you waved. “Are you Donovan’s friend?”

“Yeah!” she was crying. She made sure you were real, too, touching you, your icing, your holly. You must have been her friend too. “Oh my god… D-Donovan…”

“My Spice…” he sniffed. “He’s back, and confused as ever.”

“He’ll get most of his memories back in a few months,” Marrubi said. Oh, she was a strawberry cake. What was a fellow cake doing down here? She smelled fertile, so did she do something illegal? “Spice, nice to see you.”

“Hello,” you waved. “Were you exiled too?”

“I helped exiles and defects in Cadonia” she explained, sitting next to you. “I helped the cakes on the way to the well get saved.”

“Really?” you gasped. “A hero? Did they find you out?”

“It’s a long story. Short story is, we’re helping give exiles a new life here in Zestein,” is that where you were?

“You’re amazing.”

“Thanks. You must have been, too, to melt this jerk’s icy heart.”

Donovan said nothing, but was absently running his fingers along your side.

“Jerk?” you turned to Donovan, who kissed you. You could tell he wanted what you had teased earlier, but humans weren’t keen on sex like that.

“I’ve been known to be an asshole. A drunk. A retard,” he sighed. You couldn’t imagine him being any of those.

“And suicidal!” Kelly sounded hurt. “You idiot! What if you had actually killed yourself a few days ago?”

“I woulda missed Spice,” he said.

*