saving thanksgiving | kyle broflovski
✩ character: kyle broflovski (+ stan marsh)
✩ synopsis: in which thanksgiving dinner at the marsh’s goes awry, so your little brother kyle and his best friend look to you for help!
✩ tags: cursing, brother-sister bonding, kyle’s older sister is friends with stan too, randy is a horrible cook, craig + butters mentioned, you get kinda maternal lol, literally just fluff. just fluff and cuteness, you take the boys on an adventure (you take them away from randy’s cooking), oc mentioned! (kenny’s older sister) not proofread!
you loved thanksgiving. how could you not?
every year the broflovski family would come from far and wide and cram themselves into your house, shuffling through the door in a line to pinch yours and your brothers’ cheeks before piling your mother’s delicious cooking onto their plates.
okay, you only really loved the last bit. it made up for the amount of ‘my goodness, you and your brothers are so big now — you know i used to change your diapers when you were a baby!’ the three of you heard. it was magical how sheila broflovski’s famous turkey, mac and cheese, stuffing, mashed potatoes and turkey gravy managed to bring the household together and make small talk so tolerable.
but this year, you weren’t able to feel that recurring joy. this year, you and your family were invited over to the marsh household to celebrate thanksgiving as a town. it took quite a bit of convincing from randy and sharon, but eventually your mother gave in on the promise that she wouldn’t have to slave away in the kitchen.
so your distant family resorted to staying in new jersey to celebrate while you and your family headed over to the marsh house with some other friendly families. your parents were pretty close to sharon and randy marsh, having known them for the many years you guys had lived there, so you were pretty well acquainted with the two marsh children; stan and shelley.
moreso stan because of his tight-knit friendship with your little brother kyle. shelley was right in her awkward stage and hated social interaction more than she hated stan, so she was holed up in her bedroom after stacking up a little plate for herself and nipping at anybody who dared to try to greet her.
the horror began when you filed into the kitchen when dinner was announced as ready only to find that randy was going through one of his chef phases again. granted, none of it looked terrible because they were all attempted copies of recipies passed down from the greats, but it was only when you started eating did you realize that randy mainly cared about presentation.
sharon glanced at her guests’ faces as they began to choke down their food, her eyes screaming apologies until they settled defeatedly into her lap. they had absolutely no hail mary: everybody was personally instructed by randy not to bring a dish so that he could really show off his skills. he was the only one who didn’t seem to find any faults in his process, wolfing down his food with several cans of bud light.
you exchanged glances with your parents, begging with wide eyes to be excused. you had told her about katie mccormick, kyle’s friend kenny’s older sister who was your age, and her plan to have a little friendsgiving, but your mother shot you down with a brief but stern glare. so you looked over to kyle and ike, who looked like they would commit the worst of the worst crimes for even a whiff of your mom’s garlic mashed potatoes.
the night went on pretty smoothly regardless, after everybody managed to scoot the food around their plates and pretend they had gotten full off of a few bites; you lingered around at the table for a while after dinner to talk with the adults about school and your job, sharing and relating horror stories and gossip until you saw stan and kyle slip away from the table and sneak upstairs. right before kyle vanished in a little blur, he had motioned for you to follow them.
it relieved you, and it was times like this that made you thankful for your close relationship with your little brother. and that was how, after a well-played excuse of needing the restroom, you wound up in stan’s bedroom with the two, slumped on the boy’s bed beside kyle while they played some cookie-cutter first person shooter video game. the two exchanged curses and exclamations with each round when your phone buzzed in your lap.
katie mcwhoremick <3: hey, you coming?
you sighed, head slumping against stan’s neatly made comforter. kyle gave you a strange side glance as you furiously typed away.
me: no, and i’m fucking starving dude.
me: gordon randy cooked this year.
katie responded after a while, her text bubble hovering.
katie mcwhoremick: oh fuck no 😭
katie mcwhoremick: i’ll save you and your brothers a plate? :/ i’ll have kenny bring them to you later or something?
me: my hero <3
me: nah, don’t sweat it, mrs. tucker brought some bread pudding thank god
katie only responded with a heart and you set your phone down to find both stan and kyle staring at you with mischief and devious plots behind their squinted eyes. “oh, god, what are you fuckers cooking up in there?” you groaned, the gravity of it setting in when you saw they had actually set their controllers down to think.
they refused to share their little ideas, both of them assuming the other was on the same page. so they resorted to silence, but it wasn’t kept for very long when an idea suddenly wormed itself into your brain and you shot up with a gasp.
“hey, do we still have that pizza in the freezer?” you nudged kyle, who easily bit the hook you had dangled in front of him. interest filled his green eyes and he looked over at his best friend to see if he was also considering the proposition.
he thought for a moment. “yeah, but how are we gonna get past mom and dad? and are we bringing ike, too?”
“yeah, i’d feel like an asshole if i didn’t invite craig. he’s suffering, too.” stan chimed in, to which you responded with a scoff.
“dude, one pizza isn’t gonna feed the current population. it’s us three or nothing. i don’t even think ike likes pizza.” you lied, knowing your baby brother liked to nibble on the soft dough and did very much enjoy pepperoni. but you were starving and you knew the two boys were, too. they were getting to that age where the kitchen didn’t stand a chance against them.
kyle’s eyes narrowed. ike likes pizza, his expression said. but eventually it faded into one of defeat and he shrugged. “yeah dude, i’m hungry. no offense to your dad, stan.”
“full offense, that food was shit.” stan mumbled as he shut down his computer.
you led the little group downstairs and prayed you could make it to the door without anybody noticing you, but it seemed your mother was waiting for your descent. “oh, bubbie, where are you kids headed to?” sheila asked, making all three of you spin on your heels.
you could see kyle and stan actively avoiding the curious gaze of their friend who was still at the table. a gaze that shifted to you while you recanted your rehearsed excuse of, “well, we need to take a few laps around the block and work off all of that food. kyle’s blood sugar might be a little off.” you lied, slapping the ginger’s shoulder when he shot you a ‘what the fuck’ look.
blame the diabetic, why don’t you? you heard his words echo in your head despite him never uttering them.
“oh, god,” sheila dove for her purse. “do you need his glucometer?” worry made her voice waver a bit, and you were quick to calm her down.
“don’t worry ma, he’s fine!” you started to usher the two outside. “just need to reconnect with nature, you know how it is.”
“you know, sheila,” mr. stotch spoke up from the other end of the table. “i don’t know how you do it. you never hear kids say things like that anymore. see, if butters was more like your kiddos, maybe he’d be here instead of grounded in his room at home.”
you winced at the idea of the sweet little boy locked up in his bedroom on thanksgiving, his parents enjoying — that being an overstatement — dinner without him.
while your mother graciously accepted the flattery, with a little concern, you slipped outside and ran down the driveway with the boys before anybody could question you guys further.
“are we seriously walking? your house is like a few blocks away.” stan grumbled.
“complain again, you’re going back upstairs, asswipe.” you shot back as you revealed the car keys that you had swiped from your dad’s coat on the rack by the staircase. the boys hurried into the car and in just a few seconds, you were barreling down the road, a frozen pizza on your mind.
you adjusted the radio to some van halen while the boys chatted excitedly among themselves, kyle hanging over the back of his seat to face stan. you wanted to poke him and tell him to put his seatbelt on, but he rarely ever had adventures like these.
“hey,” kyle started as he plopped his butt back into his seat. “thanks, dude.”
you spared him a quick glance, smiling. “yeah, yeah.” you patted the top of his green hat, smushing it down onto his ginger curls.
“yeah, thanks,” stan spoke from over your shoulder as you pulled into your driveway. “i wish i had a sister like you, man.”
“hey,” you said playfully, “you do have a sister and she loves you.” you pointed a loosely lecturing finger in his direction, flattered at the compliment but silently feeling a little bad for the way stan spoke about shelley behind her back.
you could never imagine yourself and kyle or ike having such a strained relationship. from the day kyle was born and ike came home from the adoption center, sheila and gerald drilled the importance of family into all of your heads. you cared for those boys like they were your own children, if that’s what having children felt like. sure, they pissed you off and worked your last nerve like they were getting $50 a minute for it, but they were your flesh and blood.
still, stan gave no response, only a thin-lipped stare that definitely told you otherwise. you rolled your eyes and gestured for stan to get out of the car.
the two dove onto the couch while you preheated the oven and fished the delectable boxed pizza out of the freezer to thaw for a minute. it didn’t take long for it to cook and the three of you had grubby plates and empty bags of chips scattered around the sofa while you watched the screen. you had no idea how fortnite worked so you opted to cheer and boo when you thought appropriate.
“dude that was so much better than my dad’s cooking.” stan sighed after the pair’s nth victory. the boys were beginning to get visibly sleepy and you knew you had about twenty minutes before you had to pull a blanket out of the closet for them.
you shot a quick text to your mom explaining why your car was no longer at the marsh’s house and to call you when they were ready to head home — which would surely be soon. mrs. tucker’s bread pudding definitely wouldn’t last long with them.
your attention was broken when you felt a gentle weight on your shoulder and glanced down to see kyle curling up against your bicep. you wrapped your arm around him, squeezing him in a hug.
“best thanksgiving ever,” he mumbled as they geared up for, very likely, their last fortnite round.
happy thanksgiving yall! hope everyone had good food unlike the entirety of randy and sharon’s dinner table 🫶
