Can't Live Without 'Em [1/2]
anonymous
September 28 2009, 04:34:57 UTC
Oy-fricking-gevalt, Alfred thinks, and just throws down the gauntlet. Or, you know, oven mitt, as it were. Next year, he’s going to see to it that hosting duty falls on Francis, because if anyone can cook, it’s that guy. Alfred’s not sure whose bright idea it was to have the son of the most notorious chef among them host seder, but he is sure that they’re going to get a nice, big helping of his first shot at the baked chicken. The baked chicken that’s burned to shit. The same one that’s supposed to be served in less than five hours, leaving him four hours to prepare everything else, if you don’t count the time it’ll take to pick people up from JFK. Unless he can split driving duty with Matt, he thinks.
Speaking of which, he wonders, where the hell is Matt, anyway?
He shoots his brother a text-a hurried “hey r u here yet?”-and dashes off to find a fresh chicken.
“Got in @ 12,” Matthew responds, and offers to man the stove until he gets back. Which is funny, because Alfred sure doesn’t remember seeing him arrive, much less letting him
( ... )
Can't Live Without 'Em [2/2]
anonymous
September 28 2009, 04:38:37 UTC
He’s surprised to see some of the other faces that turn up: Ludwig, for one, that he never saw coming. He wants to ask, but the war’s still fresh in everyone’s memory that he just can’t bring himself to, so he shows Ludwig to the dining room, and Feliciano, too. Alfred knows the latter definitely isn’t familiar with the practices of the holiday, and kind of wants to be there to see the look on his face when he finds out just what the dietary restrictions are.
Yet another reason he’s convinced that Francis should have hosted. The guy’s got such a way with food- the way he cooks, you’d never notice you were missing an entire food group. Or two. Maybe. He thinks. Hell, he doesn’t know. It’s hard to keep all the rules straight, because some of his people who celebrate are fine eating wheat-sans-yeast, and others who do won’t even touch rice or potatoes on top of everything else.
There’s the tall guy with the creepy face, too, and his whole family. His wife and kid, that is, not all his brothers.
(incoherent keyboardsmash of glee and joy goes here)
Just. OH. So perfect. And everyone being familially awkward, and the TIE FIXING YES, and ! Matzo! And not being sure who everyone is! And America's voice is incredibly spot-on arrogant twenty-something American boy, just lovely.
His wife and kid, a;rlgh a;l ha;kgh !!!
he’s getting pretty sick of fighting over who’s asking the Four Questions. I have no words for this. Only XDDDDD
“Cover your head, for God’s sake,” I now have terrible mental images of stereotypically Jewish mother England, and it is terrifying.
I - I can't even articulate clearly how happy this made me. Just. This is a gorgeous fill, and I love it, and I'm grinning so hard my cheeks hurt.
reCaptcha: pickling Victoria's. Pickling her what?
Re: Can't Live Without 'Em [2/2]
anonymous
September 28 2009, 16:52:56 UTC
Ahh, you have no idea how much I love this; I <3> jewish fic!
Though it’ll be nice to have someone younger than him and Matthew around, he has to admit; he’s getting pretty sick of fighting over who’s asking the Four Questions.
Hah! The endless battle: who's going to say the four questions this time?
Author!Anon, I like how you've hit on the family bits of Pesach, as well as the belonging bits.
Speaking of which, he wonders, where the hell is Matt, anyway?
He shoots his brother a text-a hurried “hey r u here yet?”-and dashes off to find a fresh chicken.
“Got in @ 12,” Matthew responds, and offers to man the stove until he gets back. Which is funny, because Alfred sure doesn’t remember seeing him arrive, much less letting him ( ... )
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Yet another reason he’s convinced that Francis should have hosted. The guy’s got such a way with food- the way he cooks, you’d never notice you were missing an entire food group. Or two. Maybe. He thinks. Hell, he doesn’t know. It’s hard to keep all the rules straight, because some of his people who celebrate are fine eating wheat-sans-yeast, and others who do won’t even touch rice or potatoes on top of everything else.
There’s the tall guy with the creepy face, too, and his whole family. His wife and kid, that is, not all his brothers.
“Th’ Dane couldn’t make it,” he explains ( ... )
Reply
Good work, Anon!
Reply
Just. OH. So perfect. And everyone being familially awkward, and the TIE FIXING YES, and ! Matzo! And not being sure who everyone is! And America's voice is incredibly spot-on arrogant twenty-something American boy, just lovely.
His wife and kid,
a;rlgh a;l ha;kgh !!!
he’s getting pretty sick of fighting over who’s asking the Four Questions.
I have no words for this. Only XDDDDD
“Cover your head, for God’s sake,”
I now have terrible mental images of stereotypically Jewish mother England, and it is terrifying.
I - I can't even articulate clearly how happy this made me. Just. This is a gorgeous fill, and I love it, and I'm grinning so hard my cheeks hurt.
reCaptcha: pickling Victoria's. Pickling her what?
Reply
Though it’ll be nice to have someone younger than him and Matthew around, he has to admit; he’s getting pretty sick of fighting over who’s asking the Four Questions.
Hah! The endless battle: who's going to say the four questions this time?
Author!Anon, I like how you've hit on the family bits of Pesach, as well as the belonging bits.
Reply
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