#it was the jewish family day a few days ago so i thought it was a good timing

[stonewall2023]

A Perspective on Noah Schnapp and Israel/Palestine from someone who studies the region

I don't really comment on this tag much. Over the last two years, it has just been a fun place for me to go because I've always seen so much of myself and my childhood in Will's character. It is a nice break from the stress that is my day job. However, it really hasn't been as much of a fun place to go in the last few months because of the posts on Noah Schnapp, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. As someone who has spent half their life in the region, speaks Arabic, and studies Israel/Palestine, I thought I would throw my two cents in on Noah and this whole controversy. As a supporter of Palestinian rights, I do think that there was a lot of things wrong with Noah's initial statements that he posted a few months ago. I don't think he understands the root causes of why Hamas has engaged in violent behavior, the historical occupation of the West Bank/Gaza strip, land confiscations, settler violence, etc.. The conflict is not black and white obviously. However, I am as bothered by many of the responses to Noah Schnapp on this tag as I was with Noah's take on the conflict. There seems to be a complete lack of empathy for the Jewish plight or an understanding of where the Israeli state comes from. Zionism emerged in the late 19th century among Jewish intellectuals facing persecution in Europe who thought that the only way the Jewish community could survive was by establishing a state of their own, and not all of these intellectuals favored going to Palestine. It was the British at the end of WWI that conquered Palestine and started allowing Jewish emigration under the Belfour Declaration. Jews fled persecution and massacres from not only Europe but the Middle East and North Africa over the next two decades. Half of Noah's family fled persecution in Morocco and the other half from Eastern Europe. That is his family's experience and why he supports "zionism" and the existence of Israel. While Israel's far right interprets zionism as the right to conquer the entire holy land for religious reasons, Israel's center and left wing sees it merely as the right to exist as a state and a secular one at that. Palestinians, for their part, feel that their land was taken from them through colonization, but Israelis feel that they were driven from their homes throughout Europe and the greater Arab world due to persecution. At the end of the day, the United Nations established Israel and Palestine in 1947 by splitting the land for both peoples, and that is what I support as do millions of moderate Palestinians and Israelis. I don't support the tactics and rhetoric of the Likud Party and Israel's far right nor do I support Hamas and other far right Islamists--neither of these sides supports peace, democracy, multiculturalism, or the rights of the lgbtq community, issues that are all dear to me. Noah was right to criticize people justifying Hamas' use of violence against civilians just as the supporters of Palestine are right to condemn Israel's government for the indiscriminate violence. Based on Noah Schnapps previous statements, he seems to support a two state solution and isn't calling for people to be massacred, which quite frankly, makes him quite moderate. While I don't agree with everything he is said or how he has said it, he seems like a good kid who just needs to learn more about the conflict...and quite frankly, so do many of you as well...Anyway, that's my take.

#byler #noah schnapp

[steddieasitgoes]

@steddiemas Day 8 Prompt: Hanukkah Traditions

Tags: Established Relationship, Jewish Eddie Munson, Hanukkah Traditions, Hanukkah Fluff, Eddie Munson Is A Menace, Good Uncle Wayne Munson

wc: 1553 | Rating: G

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Logically Steve knows there are other holidays celebrated in the month of December. He’s heard the conversations about family Hanukkah celebrations in passing walking the halls of Hawkins High. Noticed the way the house three doors down always put up blue lights instead of the traditional red and green. He even vaguely remembers learning about the holiday in grade school.

It’s just never something that has come up in his own life until now.

He hadn’t known Eddie was Jewish until two weeks into his hospital stay back in March when he caught Wayne mumbling in another language under his breath. Never one to shy away from opening his big mouth, he asked Wayne rather rudely what he was doing and Wayne, gruff yet patient as ever, explained the Hebrew prayer to him in English.

It was the first and last time either of them ever brought it up, probably because Eddie woke up the following day, and gone were the days of sitting in silence hoping for a miracle. Now their time was spent trying to keep Eddie distracted and entertained.

By the time December rolled around, Steve had almost forgotten about that night all those months ago. Eddie certainly never mentioned it and his time with Wayne was few and far between these days so it was easy to slip his mind.

That is, until two days ago when Eddie invited him to their first night of Hanukkah celebration Wayne had insisted on having.

“We usually don’t do much, but Uncle Wayne’s determined to celebrate it properly this year,” Eddie had said, tapping his fingers against the counter at Family Video. “Says we got a lot to celebrate this year and we should be thankful. I told him thankfulness is for Thanksgiving and he gave me one of his looks so I guess we’re doing Hanukkah now.”

The rambling went on for another minute or two before Steve finally cut him off, assuring him that he’d be there. Eddie left satisfied and Steve pretended to be sick and raced off to the library to research what to bring to a Hanukkah celebration.

He settled on a plate of Latkes which he probably should have left to the professionals based on the sad, soggy-looking potatoes that neither he nor the Munsons touched during dinner. It’s the thought that counts, right?

Other than the delicious sufganiyot and the small menorah set up on the kitchen counter, it’s a fairly typical visit to the Munsons. He’s sitting on the couch with Eddie, the usual bottle of beer swapped out for a mug full of wine. Wayne’s in his recliner, mug in one hand, TV remote in the other after he won it from Eddie in a heated game of rock, paper, scissors. A rerun of Gunsmoke plays on the television — more static than actual dialogue, but none of them seem to mind.

A winter chill wafts through the screen door, fanning the small flame of the lit Menorah candle. It flickers but stays lit and Steve catches the way Wayne smiles at the resilience. This time he doesn’t have to ask, he spent the last two days down a rabbit hole of research learning about what Hanukkah is about. He gets it.

“Eds,” Wayne says, pulling his eyes away from the Menorah. “You ever tell your boy ‘bout your first Hanukkah?”

“Wayne,” Eddie groans beside Steve. He shoots Wayne a warning glance before burying his head in his hands. “No.”

“No, you ain’t tell him or no you don’t want me to tell’m.”

“Both.”

“Oh, now I definitely need to hear this.” Adjusting himself on the couch, Steve leans forward, elbows resting on his knees so he can get a better look at Wayne. It’s not a hard feat given Eddie’s curled-up state.

Wayne lets out a gruff laugh and takes a slow sip from his mug of wine before setting it down. “His momma wasn’t Jewish. And his daddy, well the only thing good ole’ Warren ever worshipped was himself, so Eds here didn’t know a thing bout Hanukkah ’til he came to live with me after his momma got sick.

“Now I wasn’t much for celebrating back then, the war’ll do that to you, but I had this little kid living under my roof and I couldn’t do nothing. Not when everyone was talking’ ‘bout Santa this and Santa that. So I pulled out all the stops. Found my Bubbie’s old Menorah and brought it out. Sat Eds down and explained the whole thing to him.”

“I don’t know that I’d call it explaining,” Eddie says, finally joining the conversation. “If I remember correctly you told me that we were celebrating Hanukkah and when I asked what that was you said “the holiday we're celebrating” and that was that.”

“You were six what did ya want me to tell ya.”

“Uh, more than that!”

“Well, anyway,” Wayne says, shaking Eddie off with a hand through the air. “Eds wasn’t into it much as you might expect until the matches came out. Should have seen the way his eyes lit up when he saw the fire. I should’ve known better but I didn’t know what I was doin' back then.”

“You still don’t.”

“Let your uncle talk,” Steve scolds, playfully swatting Eddie’s arm.

“You see that burn mark on the curtain there?” Wayne asks, pointing to a softball-sized charred piece of the curtain.

Steve nods before giving Eddie a questioning glance. He had noticed the charred piece of fabric before. Hell, he even brought it up to Eddie months ago asking what the story behind it was. He remembers listening to him paint the picture of the memory — his first joint, a faulty lighter, a pair of jeans ruined fanning the flames.

Nothing at all having to do with a Menorah.

“Well, your boy, got so excited ‘bout lighting the match he let go of the thing and sent the flame flyin' through the air. Lucky I was standing by 'cause the curtain almost went up in flames. Trusty ol’ baseball cap from my high school days put it out before it got too dangerous.”

The annoyance he was feeling towards Eddie’s white lie drains from his body as the truth is set free. He can picture it. A younger Eddie, shorter but still larger than life. Mischievous as all hell, but ready to handle the important responsibility of lighting a match only to let his excitement get the better of him. It’s a side of Eddie he’s experienced quite a lot of in the last few months.

The only thing more dangerous than the horrors they’ve faced is an overenthusiastic Eddie Munson.

“Is that why you wouldn’t let him light the Menorah tonight?”

“You’re damn right. This place already took a beatin’ this year. Don’t need Mr. Arson over there sendin’ it up in flames.”

“Hey,” Eddie whines. “I was six! I am way more careful with fire now.”

“Didn’t you burn yourself yesterday?” Steve asks, gesturing to the blister on his thumb from where he caught his finger fidgeting with his Zippo.

“You know what,” Eddie scoffs. He throws his hands up in the air, nearly knocking them against the low-hanging rack of mugs before standing up. “The Maccaknees didn’t endure what they did for me to have to sit here and listen to you two make fun of me! Goodnight!”

Steve watches as Eddie stomps off down the hallway like a petulant child. If he wasn’t so in love with the giant dork, he’d probably find the entire thing off-putting. Hell, he probably should find Eddie’s tantrums at least a little unattractive but his heart hasn’t gotten the memo.

When the bedroom door slams shut, Steve twists on the couch until he’s facing Wayne. “Do you think we should tell him it’s the Maccabees not whatever it is he said?”

Wayne laughs, shaking his head. “Come on now, you’ve been ‘round long enough to know correctin' Eds ain’t ever a good thing. Best to let him think what he thinks.”

“I heard you!” Eddie shouts from behind the closed door. “Just for that, I’m lighting the candles tomorrow.”

The recliner creaks as Wayne slowly gets himself to his feet. The noise is enough to coax Eddie back out of his room — not that he was ever going to stay hidden in there long without Steve.

“What are you doing?”

“Checkin’ the extinguisher. Never can be too careful with fire in your hands.”

Steve laughs, earning a death glare from Eddie that only spurs him on more. “In that case, you better make sure the fire department is on the way the second you hand him the matchbox.”

“I hate you both!” Eddie groans, collapsing onto the couch in a defeated state.

Eddie manages to light the Menorah on Night Two of Hanukkah with no incident, much to the chagrin of Wayne and Steve. He manages to keep it up for several more nights until things take a turn on Night Six. Caught off guard by Steve’s hovering, the match slips from Eddie’s nimble fingers, igniting a stack of bills.

“Think you just made settin’ things on fire a Hanukkah tradition,” Wayne laughs once the flames have disappeared, leaving nothing but ash in its wake.

“The Maccaknee would be proud,” Steve teases.

“I hate you both.”

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie fan fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson ficlet #wayne munson #jewish eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #dani writes

[caramel-ribbons]

It kinda hit me that North America, my country, tried to recreate the narrative they perpetuated throughout the Iraq War: that Middle Eastern people are meant to suffer. We don’t want it to happen, but it’s kinda inevitable isn’t it? They don’t have the resources. They don’t have the education. We need to save them from the wars we start and the devastation we profit from. They need us.

It worked during the Iraq War because, even though many Americans were against it, Bush successfully managed to insinuate that they were exceptions. He ensured your discomfort with the war wasn’t as simple as you disagreeing with the killing of innocent people, but instead a disapproval of your country. You didn’t respect America. You didn’t care about it. Suddenly, you also disrespected America’s principles. You hated justice. You hated freedom. You didn’t want to help the people of Iraq because if you really wanted to, you’d oppose terrorism, and you’d support this war.

I wasn’t alive in 2003, but from the way it’s been described, and from the music I’ve listened to and the recollections I’ve heard, the Iraq war didn’t represent the people of America. It wasn’t supposed to. Instead, it represented the values of America. It represented the things American politicians, corporations, and their supporters are willing to sacrifice and excuse for the sake of money, reputation, and power.

But it falls apart when you have to witness the tolls war has on people. When you have to hear their stories. When you have to learn their names. When you have to see emaciated bodies. When you have to see families screaming and crying; mourning on camera. When you have to see corpses belonging to the same people you’d seen smiling and laughing and dancing not even days ago.

And the narrative completely shatters after you experience the dissonance between Gaza and Israel. When you see Zionists dancing near the homes they destroyed. When you see them partying a few miles away from the remains of churches, universities, and homes. When you see them in uniforms, hear about their white phosphorus and their bombs, and read about all of the human rights they get to violate whilst still getting a seat at the table where they can decide how many more homes they can destroy and people they can kill.

They then try to tell you that disagreement with this war makes you a bigot. Makes you prejudiced. If you’re against Israel’s genocide in Gaza, and if you’ve been against the ongoing apartheid, then you’re anti-Semitic. Think about the Holocaust. Think about the influx of hate crimes happening to Jewish people in your country. And you do think about them. You’ve been thinking about them. That’s why it doesn’t work.

Because you know what anti-Semitism looks like. You also know what Islamophobia looks like. You also know what genocide looks like. It doesn’t have to be defined for you anymore. You’re seeing examples of it every day. You can never forget what it means. And so the narrative fails because you understand that no one should experience this. Even if they’re “supposed to” but were they? You thought you were crazy or naive, but no. It doesn’t have to be this way. It never should’ve been, and they were wrong for trying to convince you that it should. They were cruel. They were callous. They were evil.

So now, it doesn’t matter how many celebrities stay silent. It doesn’t matter how many politicians try to demonize you, and it doesn’t matter how many labels they try to assign you for opposing this war. Because you know it isn’t a war. It never has been. It’s a genocide, and contrary to their attempts to say otherwise, you should be against it. Because before you’re an American or a Palestinian or Jewish, you’re human, and if you still have any shred of humanity left, you can’t support this.

#free palestine #free gaza #and we need a ceasefire now #realized I still wanted to say something here #and it’s easier to speak here #because there’s more freedom in blogs #you can say more in a blog than in a tweet #don’t stop speaking about this #and if you can’t speak #reblog other people’s statements #reblog videos #it’s not small #it’s not insignificant #you’re doing something

[baronessblixen]

Family Principles

Day 3 for the Eight Nights of Mulder: celebration and my prompt for the 24 Days of X-Mas Files Challenge: family Christmas with separate beds

Summary: They're spending Christmas at Mrs. Scully's house and Mulder is in for a surprise. (AU, fluffy fluff, William is there; wc: 715)

Tagging @today-in-fic @eightnightsofmulder

She should pinch herself, just to make sure she isn't dreaming. In many ways, this Christmas feels like a fantasy. One she had many, many years ago. But it's real, all of it.

Over there, surrounded by a few of her mother's neighbors, stands Mulder. He's grinning from ear to ear, quickly becoming the star of the party. At least as long as their son is napping.

William is without a doubt the not-so-secret superstar of this holiday get-together. With his dimples and his charming smile, he wraps everyone around his little finger. Including her grinchy brother, who tried his damnest not to be swayed. He lasted all of five seconds before he, too, oohed and awwed at his nephew.

"I saw you staring at me." Mulder's voice is a soft murmur as he puts his arms around her, holding her close. She must have been so lost in thought that she didn't even notice him walk over to her. "Do I have something on my face?" He nuzzles her neck, making her giggle.

"You do," she says, swatting at his hand. They may have been a couple for a while, but here, in front of everyone and her family, their public display of affection is new and she doesn't yet know how she feels about it. "You're grinning."

"I'm happy," he says simply. "Your mother throws great parties."

"She invited you every year," Scully reminds him. The first few times she asked him she wondered whether it was because of Christmas. But he never celebrated Hanukkah either. A fact they're planning to change next year so that William can learn about the festival, too.

"I'm a late bloomer." His lips graze the shell of her ear and she shivers. "Do you think anyone would notice if we snuck away?"

"They might." Though she's not sure she cares. "William will wake up soon, though."

"I can be patient," he promises, kissing her cheek. "We have all night."

"If you're prepared to sneak around." Mulder's confused pout makes her smile. She hasn't had time to speak to him about the sleeping arrangements yet. And he's not going to like what she has to say.

"My mom decided to put us in separate bedrooms." Mulder stares at her as if expecting her to admit she's making a joke. "She said, and I quote, she can't let us share a bedroom in good consciousness." Her mother loves Mulder, and she dotes on her youngest grandchild, but she's a woman with principles. One of which is no shared rooms and beds when unmarried.

"Is it because of what I said earlier?" When her mother and Father McCue talked about baptizing William, Scully intervened, saying they weren't sure yet what to do, with Mulder being half Jewish. And his skepticism towards organized religion, but she kept that tidbit to herself. Both her mother and Father McCue had looked surprised and then Mulder decided to call William a religious remix, which caused a few more shocked gasps from both of them.

"Surprisingly not," Scully says. "It's because we're not married."

"Well, I'm sure we can find someone here to change that. We have a priest, a rabbi, and a pastor. This could also be the beginning of a bad joke. This is a joke, right?" Scully shakes her head, and Mulder pouts fully.

"She knows we live together," Mulder says and she nods. "We have a child together." She nods again. "She knows that we- you know."

"Not in her house." He sighs loudly.

"What if I promise her to marry you as soon as possible? I'm gonna ask. You know what? I'm gonna use Willam to argue. He's my secret weapon." He kisses her mouth, his grin returning. He runs off like she's used to, but for once, she doesn't mind one bit.

She just watches as members of her family pat Mulder's back, or engage him in short conversations. Everyone loves him. And he basks in the attention. She knows one Christmas won't erase the years he suffered, where he was alone - sometimes by choice. But it's a beginning.

She knows that her mother won't change her mind about the sleeping arrangements, but she also knows that no matter what, they will find a way to be together tonight.

#ficmas2023 #this one was so much fun to write #they will spend more time with the scully family #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

[gaelic-symphony]

I was wondering if I'm being too sensitive so I want another jews opinion on this.

I tried organizing a new years eve party with my friends. Only one person responded so I decided to not go ahead with it. That was a few days ago.

Today one of my friends messaged the group chat saying that another news years eve idea could be to go to a pro Palestine rally.

My first thought was that it was weird that a particular person would ignore my attempt to arrange a party and instead suggest a pro Palestine rally. But on second thought I think I might be over reacting. I mean none of my friends checked in to see if my family was safe after Oct 7th but two weeks later were talking about attending pro Palestine rallies so that's why I had that initial thought.

Am I over reacting or am I valid in thinking that it's weird that my friend would do that?

Honestly, in a post 10/7 world, I don't think any Jewish emotional response is overreacting. Our people are living through a massive trauma right now, and whatever you're feeling is valid. I don't know whether any of this weirdness was intentional on the part of your friends. It's entirely possible it's just coincidence, and depending on the situation, I'd probably be inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt. But the fact that you're having such an emotional response to this is coming from somewhere. If none of your friends checked in on you after 10/7, if none of them have acknowledged the trauma you're going through, then they've created the environment where you don't feel safe and supported, where your guard will be up, and where even unintentional slights will evoke a strong emotional response like you're having now. And that is not your fault. Be gentle with yourself and let yourself feel whatever you need to feel. Just because your friends may not have meant to hurt you doesn't mean you weren't hurt by this.

#asked and answered #anon #jewish #jumblr

[marksbear]

Wonderful! Could you please write a Derek Morgan fic where the reader is an unsub the team chased for years but could never caught him? Maybe Derek and the team find out the kind and gentle reader murders people just for shit and giggles? I'd appreciate if it was gut wrenching (gore wise and angst wise)

Thank you so much in advance, I know it'll be a killer fic

-🇷🇺

Now this was hella creepy to write 🇷🇺! Hope you enjoy and request more

WARNINGS! Gore,Insane reader, Detail killing, organs,blood,kidnapping, worshiper,mask, creepy theme, killing animals. Manipulation, death sentence.

DEREK MORGAN X UNSUB MALE READER

You were called the American Lamb. At the start of your life long killing spree. You thought the title was stupid. It made you feel weak and small. But you were everything but weak and small and just the opposite of your serial killer name.

The way your victim was killed did not show you were weak actually like you were a monster. The old you had your victims teeth and hair and ears and tongue and finger nails and toe nails made as a necklace or bracelet as a good job gift for the person who found the body. Now what you really did to the victim was even more disturbing. You peeled the skin off the person hanging it around the house. With the face you'll keep it in your bag

With only the organs and bone being left you use the longer organs as decorations in the house blood all over the house. And using the smaller ones placing them in food. You'll keep the skull washing it and putting it in your bag. Now with the other ones you put it in the furniture and liquids. If the person you killed had a dog or a cat you'll use one of the bones driving into their skull. Now if they had a rare animal you'll just keep it going on with the day. If they had a spider or hamster or birds or some fish you'll leave it there or set it free.

God forbid if the person you chose has a family you'll kill any age besides five and under. You'll kill them as a family letting the family members watch as you skin their family members and laugh about using the person face wearing it and acting like the person and scaring them. You usually take the dads and sons first. You wear the dads face as a mask and bring the whole family in the living room acting like a family before getting back into business. With the infants you'll just take them somewhere hella far away from their home and drop them off individually at peoples houses. Fun fact you kept a boy whos only was a few months old after you brutally murder family and named him S/n. You do truly love him.

Your kills became famous and you even beat Ted bundy at being America's serial killer. Which you're proud of. You have been doing this for five years and you're already the best at it being wanted for dead. Your killing pattern is killing a total of twenty people or families every two months. You loved your pattern. Since the name American Lamp you started leaving Sheep masks on your victims beds and for the kid you placed a toy lamp on their beds.

Okay enough of The American Lamb lets learn more about Y/n Morgan.

The first kill was your step mom. You stabbed her in her eyes after she screamed at you. You were fourteen. The cops took your father instead. You had no uncles no aunts grandpa and grandma wanted nothing to do with you. And your real mom died years ago during your birth. You went to foster home to foster home. Family throwing you out because you were "Insane" or a "Psychopath" You honestly didn't care I mean one family did have a good reason why. You killed the family dog with your bare hands. But the cops didn't believe them. You found the perfect family. They were an old Jewish couple who loved you. And you loved them too.

You met Derek when you worked a summer job at a dollar store. You two had gotten stuck with Cupids bows pretty hard since you two had love at first sight. You two started dating all of the way until he left to work for the FBI. You promised him that the next time you see you'll get married.

You move to Quantico after you "find" S/n and buy your own place and hunt looking for Derek. But you didn't stop all of the murders though. Once you two find each other you never break your promise You get married and you let Derek meet S/n That's two now. Which he was confused about like did you knock up a girl those years ago but you just laughed and told him you adopted. Now since you were a complete family you couldn't be happier and wrote to your parents about your new life. He introduces you to the team and they all love you. You two were on the top of the world until he found out you were the American lamb. Your killers were in the area now and a Lot of different FBI's from across the states grouped up and got you red handed.

Once the press found out half of America hated you and wanted you to get sent to death. The other half envied you and worshiped you like a god. You loved it all you loved all the attention. Of course your family's and past family's most said you were a good and innocent boy. Just a little mad or crazy in the head. The family of the dog you killed spoke out and said you needed to be in a mental hospital.

Derek and the team were all shocked about how the sweet and kind Y/n be a brutal monster like that. Derek was in denial refusing that his husband was The American Lamb so what he had blood all over him wearing the lame mask. Who cares! Once he finally let it in that how you were the killer he cried for days and weeks.

After court they sent you to a mental hospital and once you proved that you are well your going to be sentenced to death. If only they knew a group of your followers would bust you out...

When you first escaped it was quiet no one knew besides your followers. You only had a few hours until they check on you. You went to your house wearing a lamb mask hugging Derek signaling him to stay quiet. Derek softly cries into your shoulders holding S/n. You place a lamb mask on their faces you hold on Derek's hand leading him into the bus. With the group all wearing lamp masks. You sit in the way back holding Derek and S/n tight.

"Amen to a new life where only us sheep can survive" You say looking at all of the Lamps. They're all different races,genders and sizes. They all say Amen in union "And let my lamb S/n start a new generation of lamps Amen. They all say "All hail S/n" The driver starts the bus and drives off.

To a new Era of time. A generation of animals.

THE END

#x male reader #derek morgan x male reader #derek morgan #criminal minds x male reader #the bear club

[this-is-z-art-blog]

Hi, I saw your answer to someone asking about what a Hannuka celebration is usually like and I thought it was really well thought-out and helpful. I was wondering if you might be willing to give me some insight on other Jewish holidays. This was actually inspired by the DP Hannuka challenge. I'm writing a long DP fanfic that's largely from Sam's perspective and when I saw the challenge I thought this was a great time to write some holiday scenes. But when I started researching Hannuka I read that it's not really a major holiday I wanted to know which holidays hold more significant meaning and...well, I went down a rabbit hole and I feel like I HAVE to make sure I do Sam's cultural heritage justice.

The part I'm writing right now takes place in autumn. I wanted to include a little bit about her family celebrating/participating in Rosh Hashana and the ten days of awe. The thing is, I have absolutely no frame of reference; I hadn't even heard of it until a few days ago. Its surprisingly difficult to find descriptions of what exactly people do to observe that holiday besides food. There's plenty to read about the food haha.

I was wondering if you might be willing to share with me your experience with autumn traditions. Your description of Hannuka was so helpful and you seemed open to more questions. But if you're not comfortable please don't feel any pressure, my goal here is to be respectful and I honestly don't know enough about Jewish Culture to know if I'm being rude so please tell me if I am. I live in a predominantly Christian area and the majority of my cultural knowledge on the subject comes from TV which tends to only bring up Judaism when a character talks about Hannuka instead of Christmas so I am basically an uncultured goldfish.

First of all, thank you, and thank you for reaching out. I love talking about this stuff in general, and I especially really enjoy helping people navigate representing characters' Judaism in their works. I know it can be really intimidating to do research on your own- you don't know what questions to ask, or what's a reliable source, or what's unilaterally true vs what varies community to community, and you want to do a good job and not perpetuate something hurtful or harmful- it's a lot! So while I want to be clear I'm just one person speaking from my personal experience and knowledge, Jews are not a monolith and Jewish thought and experience varies a lot, you can always reach out and I'll do my best to help.

Note, the Jewish calendar is lunar, which is about ten days shorter than the solar year, which is why Jewish holidays don't have the same Gregorian date year to year. Every three years (roughly) we have a whole extra 'leap month' to keep the seasons on track, because certain holidays have to be in certain seasons (most notably Passover). Jewish days also begin at sundown and end at about an hour past ('three stars in the sky') the next day, ie Shabbat is Friday evening to Saturday night each week. The high holidays are in the fall, generally, but to know when specifically something is myjewishlearning or chabad are websites you can look up 'what date is [holiday] + [year]'

Rosh Hashanah (literally translated 'head of the year'), New Year's (one of four actually). Kicks off the high holidays, both very joyous and very reflective. Apples and honey is the classic holiday treat, for a sweet new year. Challah for this holiday is often made in a circular shape, for the cycle of the year, rather than the normal Shabbat braided loaves, and sometimes people will make it with cinnamon sugar or raisins for sweetness. You also begin reaching out to make amends to people you may have hurt over the past year, a process that continues throughout the high holidays. A big theme of the high holidays is Teshuva, which is sometimes translated as repentance but is more closely 'return'. It's about making sincere apologies and doing the work to get better and avoid repeating the same kinds of harm. I once texted a non-Jewish friend of mine an apology for a previous fight of ours around this time that for her came kind of out of nowhere, which made her think I was dying. People often have a family meal together. Fun fact, the current Jewish year is 5784. Two days long kinda. Holy

The ten days between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, as you flagged, the Days of Awe or Days of Return (or in Hebrew they're the aseret yamei teshuva) are more on this theme of reflection and amends. Many participate sometime in here in a practice called tashlich, where you symbolically release bread crumbs (or some other crumpled foodstuff that may be more suited to your local aquatic life) into the water (typically a river, but sometimes your local Water is a lake or ocean) as a way to release your guilt and regrets and move forward into the new year knowing you've done all you can and you now have a clean slate

Yom Kippur ('day of atonement'), holiest day of the Jewish calendar. One of two major fasts (full day, rather than dawn to dusk). Very thoughtful and contemplative, typically a full day of synagogue services reflecting. We spend most of the day thinking about death. For many communities it's traditional to wear white or to avoid gold. You think about your wrongdoings and how to improve in the coming year, and deeply consider whether you've made your amends and if you've sincerely put in the work to change and improve where you need it.

Sukkot! Rounds off the high holidays, eight day festival that starts five days after Yom Kippur. You build a small structure called a sukkah (you BET there are a hundred specific details) in your yard and take meals in it together, big holiday for guests and visiting. First two and last two days are holy, middle four are still part of the holiday but are more mundane, and you go about your regular life (ie you can use electronics and go to work). Many observe the daily mitzvot of eating something in the sukkah, and shaking the lulav and etrog (a gathering of four plants, the lulav (palm frond), myrtle branch, willow branch are bundled together and the etrog (citron) in your other hand, symbolizes gathering in all the different kinds of our people). At the last days of Sukkot is the holiday Simchat Torah ('the joy of the torah'), where we reach the end of the annual cycle of reading the Torah and begin it anew. VERY joyous and boisterous, big holiday for dancing.

Also, here's an extremely quick and dirty rundown of other the other more prominent Jewish holidays (I'm basically skipping a number of minor fasts and smaller celebrations, but also, hannukkah is on this list, and it is nowhere near the scale of importance as Rosh Hashaha).

Hannukkah. Eight day festival in the winter, lighting a nine branched menorah (the ninth candle lights the others, one more each night ie night one you light one night eight you light eight, once again a THOUSAND little laws and specifics. we are a pedantic people). You have heard of this one

Tu B'Shevat! Late winter/early spring holiday that is the new year for trees. (The name is just the date, the 15th of the month Shevat. Most though not all Jewish holidays are on the 1st or 15th of the month, or, the new or full moon). Big holiday for planting trees or trying new fruits

Purim! Early spring. In a leap year this happens twice (though 'little Purim' is a much smaller holiday). This one is bonkers and criminally underrated. Costumes, giving gifts both to charity and to your friends and family, telling the story of that time a guy tried to kill us all and failed so hard we eat cookies shaped like his stupid hat to this day (hamantaschen or oznei haman, it's just the Yiddish or Hebrew name for them respectively)

Pesach or Passover, you have probably heard of this one. Springtime! Can't eat leavened grains (wheat, spelt, barley, oats, rye) so you gotta clean ALL your stuff out. Most Orthodox Ashkenazim also don't eat 'kitniyot', basically, similar food categories that include nuts, beans, corn, and rice, so if that's your tradition it's pretty thorough. First two nights are the Seder, a large, meandering meal where we tell the story of the holiday (in my family we regularly sit down around seven, don't get to the 'eat the Meal' part until nine, and are at the table til midnight. Many families are a little more effecient but many are even less). First two and last two days are holy, first two days especially are a big time for visiting family

The seven weeks from Passover to Shavuot are a period of time called the Omer, mostly just focused on counting up (not down) the days to Shavout. On the 36th day, Lag B'Omer (name is once again just the day) it's a holiday celebrated largely with bonfire parties

Shavuot (name just means 'weeks', for the seven weeks we count to get here) is the holiday that celebrates receiving the Torah. Celebrated with study of Torah and many have a custom to eat dairy (or just not meat), holy, two days-ish

Tisha B'av is a day of mourning, and the other major fast. Commemorates a lot of various tragedies and traumas. The weeks leading up to it go through a few stages of mourning and mourning practices

Elul is the full month leading up to Rosh Hashanah, and is something of a 'ramp up' to the attitudes and festivities, where you start thinking about your past and coming year

Shabbat. As mentioned this one is every week, holy day of rest from sundown Friday to a little later Saturday. Many celebrate by going to synagogue and/or holding a meal together Friday night and/or Saturday afternoon

Miscellaneous note, safety always comes first. If there is an emergency that would require you to break a rule of the holiday, do it. The principle is called pikuach nefesh, or protection of the soul (life)

Holy days are traditionally (though not everyone observes in this way and specifics vary, it is none of my business, repsonsibility, or interest to tell other Jewish folks what to do) observed by a number of restricitons that I like the categorize as just being part of the world, not trying to create or destory anything within it. The specifics have a lot to do with laws tracing back to not participating in argricultural or textile labor, but most relevant to my life personally is not turning on or off electronics (or fire), and no writing/drawing/fabric crafts.

Again NOT every Jew does full traditional observances of every holiday and that a) is NONE of my or anyone's business b) does not somehow make them 'less' Jewish. Judaism belongs to every Jew and is theirs to decide what to do with. That said, it is a chip on my shoulder when the only Jewish characters I see depicted in media, overwhelmingly written by gentile creators, go over the top to stress how much they hate following Jewish law or how much they love not doing it; feels like people are only interested in having Jewish characters whose Judaism is either a total joke, or it has to be as unobtrusive as possible- which is another reason I try to make myself available to answer questions you might have about how TO include your characters' Judaism

#if you want to know something more specific like 'what are things you have done on x day' or 'hey im writing this scene and stuck on y #detail' or 'hey is this a Problem im worried it touches on z harmful trope' i am always open #feel free to shoot me a dm if thats easier btw #sam manson #not art #z.answer #suddenravingfan #jewish characters

[eoieopda]

a personal update, which is mostly just me needing somewhere to put my thoughts ✨

i mentioned two weeks ago that my grandmother’s hospice nurse gave us (essentially) a two-week warning. she turned out to be an oracle because, apart from a two-day spread, she was spot-on. my grandmother died friday morning while i was getting ready for work — while i was on here, making jokes about “seven”, no less. part of me thinks she waited until we were able to find joy amidst all the pre-grief, just to be sure that we could. that, and she held out a few extra hours until it was no longer my cousin’s birthday — which feels purposeful because she always said she’d miss an event of her grandkids’ “over her dead body”. on brand until the end, my bubbe 💕

the last three weeks were among the worst i’ve ever experienced. i’d go so far as to say they were nightmarish, honestly. however, all of the death i’d experienced in my life before was sudden; with her, i got time. i got to hold the hand of the person who’d been there for me from the beginning and walk with them to the end. i got to say everything i needed to, and i got to listen, too. as horrific as the day-to-day was, i think it’s a privilege to have had someone i loved enough to endure that for without a second thought.

because we’re jewish, the burial/mourning process is a quicker turn-around than most non-jewish people experience. her funeral was this morning because yesterday was the sabbath, and it was beautiful, albeit rainy. i’m not “religious” by any means, but these particular cultural practices and the symbolism behind them really make a bell ring in me, way deep down. i’m grateful for that. i’m also grateful for all of the unexpected laughter my family was able to find once the other shoe did finally drop. it’s kind of amazing how instantaneously lighter the air felt when we knew she wasn’t suffering anymore, even though we’re all fucking sad that she’s not physically with us anymore.

all that to say: i’m okay. i will be okay. and i’m so, so, so thankful for the people i’ve met on here that contribute to my being okay. seriously, having this outlet to be stupid and laugh has helped more than i can say. knowing that there are people out there that i have never and will never meet — some of whom i’d never talked to before — who popped by my DMs to check in on me has been an incredible reminder that there’s so much good to be found in spaces like this.

i love you. thank you.

💕

#tw death #tw hospice #tw funeral #tw grief #tw illness #once again i regret making my update tag #hi welcome to chilis

[peculiarcharlotte]

the boy in striped pajamas: my sentiments

rating: 9.8/10

warnings: spoilers ahead + emotional damage (be prepared)

this was in my bucket list for quite some time, and i’ve only gone around to watching it a few days ago. to be frank, i’m still recovering, and i’ll probably never truly recover from this drastically touching cinematic masterpiece.

bruno was the son of an auschwitz’s commandant who moved his family to the countryside for work duties. in my eyes, bruno’s character was so beautifully human. unbothered by the atrocities currently happening, he remains curious and compassionate within his little bubble of innocence. he questions unashamedly, about the strange horrid smell coming from the “farm's” chimneys, (from the burning of jews), about the numbers on shmuel’s so-called pajamas (a jewish boy whom he had befriended).

unfortunately, purity never sustains in our blood-wrenched world. in the end, bruno’s death was a karmic result of the nazi regime, and his father’s ignorance and failure to protect him. it saddens me deeply knowing he died believing his father was a rightful man. he died thinking he’d find shmuel’s father in the concentration camps. he died so unknowingly. what breaks me the most, was he died gripping the hands of his beloved friend, shmuel, inside that gas chamber. i’m not lying when if i tell you i cried for three hours straight after this movie. it’s infuriating, knowing this wasn’t just made-up, stuff like this has happened, and honestly, they’re still happening! how could anyone let these children be stripped away of their humanity and futures like this? how does ethnic identity completely decide your social mobility? how is it justifiable in any way for genocide to even be worshipped?

therefore it’s such a provoking thought knowing if we could just entirely eradicate everything we’ve known about something and approach it through our intrinsic nature, perhaps we would've been so much more connected to our roots: to merge into a mere species, the human race. sometimes i wonder if current and past societies removed all the societal structures, the ingrained bigotries and biases within themselves, would racism and exclusion of marginalized groups ever exist in the first place? would i be able to kiss a person without the fear of being discriminated against? would the gender wars between man and woman become an incomprehensible notion? would we be able to finally collectively strive for the common greater good? would the generation of our offspring still have to worry about whether they’re going to be competent enough for the work market? so many questions and none can be answered. so many voices and none were heard. so many potentials, but none fulfilled.

overall, the film articulately depicts the true horrors of war and the tragic consequences it enforces. every scene was so raw, so full of emotions and authenticity. i would watch this again, probably just to feel something, even if i might be more emotionally damaged from being reminded of the devasting aftermath of bruno and shmuel’s forbidden comradeship.

#the boy in the striped pajamas #film review #love this movie #war crimes #auschwitz #gas chamber #jewish #writing #essay writing #essay #things to think about #literary analysis #sad movies #war movies #documentary #books #bookblr #writeblr #poets and writers #writerscommunity #creative writing #poetry #emotional #emotions #life #movies #movie review #moviegifs #cinema #cinematography

[lillywillow]

It Takes A Village

Summary: When Bucky moves to a new place, he falls in love with the community there

 Written for: @buckybarnesbingo

 Words: 1961

 Square Filled: K2- Found Family

 Pairing: Bucky Barnes x SingleMother!Reader  

 Warnings: Fluff, mild swearing

 Bucky decided it was time to move out on his own. It was scary and he wasn’t sure if he was really ready to do it but it was something that he needed to do. For the first week, Bucky kept to himself. There was still a part of him that was afraid he’d lose his battle with the Winter Soldier and hurt people. That all started to change when he met you.

…

 The first time he saw you, he was heading out the door as you were coming home. You had a young boy holding your hand, excitedly telling you about his day while a girl a little bit older followed behind. You smiled at him as you crossed paths.

 After that, he bumped into you a few times since then, usually making small talk. One afternoon, Bucky was getting his mail as you were coming downstairs in a hurry. In your haste, you missed a step, sending you tumbling down.

 “My ankle!” you cried out.

 Bucky rushed over to help you, gently assessing the damage. You hissed in pain as he held your ankle. Already it was starting to swell and a purple bruise started to blossom.

 “You need a doctor to look at this…”

 “No! I’m too busy to get hurt! I’ve got to take Ida her lunch, and make the sandwiches for the men’s workshop and take my kids to their classes and bake for the-the…”

 “I can help you. Let me take you to the doctor and we’ll go from there…”

 There was something in his eyes that made you trust him.

 “Alright…”

…

 After a visit to the doctor, Bucky took you home to rest. Fortunately, your ankle wasn’t broken but it was badly sprained. Bucky helped you get comfortable with your foot elevated before going to take care of the first job on your list. He knocked on the door of the apartment a floor below yours. A small elderly woman answered the door.

 “Who is it? What do you want?” she asked in a Germanic accent.

 “Hello, Mrs Rosenburg. My name is Bucky and I’m helping Y/N take care of a few things since she hurt herself. I have your lunch for you…”

 “Ah! I know Y/N. Nice girl. She often brings my lunch,” the woman smiled, ushering Bucky inside.

 You had warned Bucky in advance that Ida liked to have a chat over lunch and she liked to chat a lot. You thought that she may be lonely.

 “You seem like a nice young man. I have a grandson just about your age,” she mused as she arranged what she needed for lunch.

 ‘I highly doubt that,’ Bucky thought.

 “Can I help you with anything Mrs Rosenburg?” Bucky offered.

 “Please, call me Ida. Mrs Rosenburg makes me feel so old,” she chuckled.

 Bucky walked over and helped Ida get comfortable at the table and made her a cup of tea. Ida insisted that he make one for himself too.

 “You remind me a lot of my husband… He was so handsome, charming and brave,” she smiled, pointing over to the cupboard full of photographs.

 Bucky walked over and picked up a sepia photo of a young man in a German uniform.

 “No easy times in those days. He had to hide his faith from those Nazi bastards. Saved a lot of lives…”

 Ida went on to tell Bucky the story of her husband. He was a German-Jewish who was drafted into the army when World War II broke out. Karl used his position as a soldier to help smuggle innocent people out of the country. In turn, Ida would help forge documents to help them on their travels. After the war, Karl and Ida immigrated to America. Their story was kept a secret until recently. Sadly, Karl passed away a year ago. Ida had been mostly on her own ever since. She told Bucky her children and grandchildren had offered to stay with her but she assured them she would be alright.

 “Goodness, look at the time. I must have talked your ear off by now. You’re welcome to come back any time,” she smiled, taking Bucky’s hand and patting it.

 He smiled and took his leave, making sure Ida was okay before heading out.

…

 Bucky checked to see you were still resting comfortably before he took the sandwiches you had made to the men’s workshop. As he looked around the place, Bucky felt a welcoming atmosphere. A large, burly man with long grey hair tied back in a braid with a beard to match.

 “Can I help you, lad? Are you looking to join?” he asked.

 “I’m here with the sandwiches Y/N made. She hurt her ankle and I’m helping her out while she gets better,”    Bucky explained.

 “We know Y/N! She’s a fine lass. Grub’s up fellas!” the man bellowed to the others working.

 The men all stopped what they were doing, switched off any machines they were using and headed over to where Bucky was standing with the food. They all swarmed, grabbing a sandwich and taking it to sit down and eat.

 “What’s your name?” the burly man asked.

 “Bucky…”

 “Nice to meet you, Bucky. I’m Aaron. I’m the one who keeps an eye on this sorry lot,” he grinned, making the others laugh.

 “Hey, is that arm made of vibranium?” a slim built young man asked from his left.

 “Yes…” Bucky started to feel a little self- conscious.

 “That’s so cool! I’d love to get a hold of some of that to make some upgrades,” he grinned, pulling up his pants leg to show off a prosthetic leg.

 “I’m Soos, by the way. If ever you need any work done, I’d be happy to help you out some time,” he smiled.

 “Thanks, Soos,” Bucky smiled back. “I should be getting back to Y/N.”

 “Alright. If you want to come back and join us, you’re welcome to come back and do so,” Aaron beamed, giving Bucky a friendly pat on the back.

 Bucky thanked him and headed home.

…

 Bucky helped you do some baking while he waited with you for the kids to come home from school. Under your guidance, he actually produced some pretty good-looking cupcakes and cookies. While you worked, you told him all about your deadbeat ex who ran out on you and the kids. You had been working from home so you could still see your children while making sure you could afford a good life for them. You were also very active in the community. When your kids arrived home from school, they got changed so they could go to their classes. Your daughter put on her karate uniform and your son in ballet tights. Bucky was a little surprised but said nothing. If that’s the way the kids wanted it, then who was he to judge? You made a quick call to their teaches to let them know in advance of the change in drop off and pickup and informed Bucky of their password system which was an extra form of precaution.

 “Now, listen to Mister Bucky and don’t wander away from him, okay?”

 “Okay, mama,” the kids agreed.

 You kissed their heads and let them go on their way.

…

 The whole way to the community centre, your son Dylan asked Bucky many questions while your daughter Sasha quietly followed next to him. Bucky tried to answer all the questions while also including Sasha.

 The classes would be held within an hour of each other so Bucky had plenty of time to wait. He got to know some of the parents while he was waiting, using the password system if they asked and explaining the situation. Bucky was in awe of your children when he watched them in action. Dylan was quite good at ballet and worked well with the little girls in his class. Sasha was the complete opposite in personality to her brother. She was a tough girl who didn’t give her competitors a chance. Bucky was completely amazed.

 After the lessons were over, Bucky started walking the children home when he saw a group of boys picking on a skinny kid.

 “Hey! Leave him alone!”

 All it took was one glance of seeing Bucky heading in their direction to send the bullies scattering. He walked over and helped the boy to his feet.

 “Are you okay?” Bucky asked, making sure he could stand on his feet.

 The kid puffed his inhaler and adjusted his glasses.

 “I’m okay. Those jerks were giving some ballerinas a hard time so I stepped in… Are those Y/N’s kids?” he asked.

 Bucky smiled a little. This kid reminded him a lot of Steve.

 “They are. She hurt herself this morning and I’m helping out until her ankle gets better. I’m her neighbour, Bucky.”

 “That’s Kim. He lives in our building too,” Dylan supplied.

 “Can I walk you home, Kim? It’s starting to get dark…”

 Kim thought for a few moments before nodding. Bucky walked the young man home, meeting his mothers Jade and her wife Marsha. They invited Bucky for dinner to say thank you for what he had done for their son but he politely declined, explaining he had to get back to you. They smiled, admiring his kindness, saying he could join them at any time. Bucky thanked them and walked the kids back to your place.

…

 That was just the start of Bucky’s week. Everyday he stopped by your place, helped make breakfast and get the kids to school. Bucky got any chores done you needed doing and took Ida her lunch. He took care of your every need. You also encouraged him to go out a little, assuring him you would be fine on your own for a little while. Bucky took the time to get to know the people he met a little better, joining the men’s workshop, meeting up with Jade and Marsha and having tea with Ida. In the weeks it took for you to recover, this community had become his family and he would do anything for them. Bucky’s neighbours weren’t the only ones he had fallen for; he had also fallen in love with you. He admired the way you were raising two kids on your own and the way you cared for the people around you.

 One afternoon, Bucky stopped by and knocked on your door.

 “Hi, Bucky. What brings you here?” you smiled.

 “I… these are for you,” he said, handing you a bouquet of beautiful flowers.

 “Oh, thank you!” you beamed, taking the flowers and breathing in their sweet fragrance.

 “I got them from Marsha’s flower stall. She made the arrangement herself…”

 Bucky was starting to become a little flustered.

 “That was very nice of her…”

 “She’s great. I was actually wondering if… I could ask you out on a date…”

 “A date?”

 Bucky’s face started to turn pink.

 “Yeah… I like you a lot, Y/N. You’re an amazing woman with amazing kids and I’d really like to go on a date with you…”

 Smiling, you hugged him tight and teared up a little.

 “You helped me when you didn’t have to. You helped to take care of my kids too. I would love to go on a date, Bucky.”

 Bucky smiled and worked out a time that would work best. He couldn’t wait. It was thanks to you that he was finally able to face the world again and found a place that he could once again call home.

#bbb2022 #buckybarnesbingo2022 #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot #it takes a village #neighborhood #community values #found family

[readyforthegarden]

Home for the Holidays - D.R.W.

Synopsis: Spending the holiday season with the Wagners, and including them in your own holiday traditions.

WC: 2448

A/N: In honor of the first night of Hanukkah being this weekend, here is some holiday magic, I hope you like it and if I got anything wrong you can punch my lights out!!!

Josh's Holiday Fic // Sam's Holiday Fic // Jake’s Holiday Fic

From the moment you and Danny arrived in Michigan, you were inundated with holiday magic. His parents picked the two of you up from the airport, giddily hugging you and their son, and taking you both to get your luggage, Lori, his mom, already listing off all the things she was excited to tell you both about and do with you while home for the season.

The only problem...you didn't exactly celebrate Christmas. Well, you didn't celebrate it in any way. Being Jewish, it was kind of frowned upon to celebrate the birth of a messiah you didn't recognize. This was your first Christmas season ever, sort of celebrating, and like the movies and tv specials, it all seemed overwhelming as Lori and Daniel Sr prattled on about the events around town and with family. You had planned to participate as much as possible, given how excited Danny was to share Christmas together, but a small twinge of homesickness for your own traditions thrummed in your heart. Considering Hanukkah and Christmas overlapped this year, your visit wouldn't be over in time for you to spend time with your own family.

You watched the lights on all the houses flicker past the car window as you listened to Danny talk about the work he and the band have been doing, what some friends have been up to and whatnot. More and more, you wondered if your aunt was making her latkes tonight, always extra crisp. Your mouth began to water at the memory of dunking yours into a dollop of sour cream, savoring the morsel as the fried potatoes crunched between your teeth.

"I think that would be fun don't you, hun?" your were snapped from your thoughts as Danny nudged your elbow in the backseat, giving you a look. "Taking a walk downtown tomorrow night and getting some cocoa, seeing the decorations and doing some shopping?"

"Oh, yeah, that sounds wonderful." you smiled, thanking him silently. When the car pulled in the drive, Lori took your hand in hers, squeezing it gently and giving you a wide, sincere smile before pulling you along inside the house, leaving the men to the luggage.

"I know that you don't celebrate Christmas," she began, unlocking the door and ushering you inside. "And I also know that tonight is the first night of Hanukkah."

"It is, yeah." you gave her a soft smile. As you took off your shoes and coat, she did the same, telling you she had something to show you. Once you were both suitable for inside, she took your hand again, and lead you to the living room. The room was decorated beautifully. The tree was light with pure white lights, twinkling against ornaments of gold and red, with some heirloom and sentimental ones sprinkled in. The couch had a red and green plaid throw and matching pillows on it, and the mantle was draped with a festive lighted garland. However, in the very middle of the mantle, was a beautiful menorah.

"I don't want you to feel like we're forcing you to only celebrate Christmas with us. We want to celebrate Hanukkah with you, too." Lori murmured, a smile on her face. "If that's okay, that is." you looked over to Lori, teary-eyed at the big heartedness of the gesture. It would be so easy, and for a lot of people, it was, to glaze over your holiday and focus on their own.

"This is so kind, Lori." you grinned. "I'd love to celebrate Hanukkah with you." Lori clapped her hands excitedly.

"Perfect! Because I already have a recipe started for some apricot and walnut rugelach that I thought we could make together during the Christmas cookie baking, and I found some dreidels and we can play-Oh! I don't know if the chocolate gelt coins have come in yet, I ordered them a few days ago on amazon..."

"Lori, the menorah was enough, really." you leaned over and hugged her. "But I won't say no to some rugelach." Lori squeezed you back tightly, her enthusiasm contagious.

"Hey, I didn't get a hug like that yet!" Danny walked into the living room, a goofy grin on his face as you and his mom parted from the hug. "The menorah was my idea."

"Oh it was, was it?" you smirked, moving to wrap your arms around his waist. "Well thank you too." you hugged him and he kissed the top of your head as Lori exited, saying something about getting dinner started, and shooing you away as you offered to help. Danny instead plopped himself on the family couch, patting the spot next to him as he flipped on the television.

After dinner Danny got up to clear the table, and Lori found the package of gelt coins and dreidel, setting them in the center of the table. You explained the rules of the game as Danny's father passed out the gelt evenly; Nun is highest, then Gimmel, Hey, and Shin.

"Okay, so we go around clockwise in rounds, and at the beginning of every turn, we all put a coin into the pot." you explained, holding up one of the gold foil covered chocolates. "Each player spins the dreidel once during their turn. Depending on which side is facing up when the dreidel stops spinning, the player either gives or takes game pieces from the pot."

You explained what the symbols on each side of the dreidel meant: If נ/Nun is facing up, the player does nothing. The person to the left spins. If you landed on ג/Gimmel, you get to take the jackpot. Then, everyone, including the spinner, puts another coin into the pot, and the person to the left spins. Landing on ה/Hey, the player gets half of the pieces in the pot, and landing on ש/Shin, you now have to put another unit into the pot.

"Are we ready?" you asked, looking at the Wagners. Everyone nodded and Danny started, landing on Shin immediately. It did not take long for the game to get competitive, and the four of you were all hoping to get the jackpot and for the others' to lose their turn or add more gelt to the pile in the middle of the table. After a few hours, Lori and Danny had accumulated the most gelt, and decided to end on a high note, promising to play again tomorrow when Josie was home. Lori went to the living room and brought in the menorah, setting it in the middle of the table and picking up the ninth candle that was sat in the middle.

"I thought there were only eight nights of Hanukkah?" she questioned as you took the candle, taking the lighter Daniel Sr. offered and lighting it.

"There is. This is called a shammash. It's like a helper candle to light the others. The Wagners gathered around you as you stood at the table, the golden menorah shining with the christmas lights flooding in behind it as Lori turned off the dining room lights. "There are a few blessings to recite, the first one is blessing the candles, the second is a way of giving thanks for the miracle of the oil that was only supposed to last for one night, lasting for eight instead, and in a way, the triumph of light over darkness. We recite them as we light the candles each night."

"Then for tonight, there's another blessing, that marks the beginning of the joyous season and occasions in life." you smiled as the Wagners nodded their heads. "Usually my dad leads the prayers, and my Hebrew is a little rusty, so bear with me." you recited the three prayers as you light the shammash, and the first candle. You smiled to yourself hearing Lori whisper a soft "Amen" when you were done.

The rest of your visit was filled with holiday fun. It had snowed on your third day, and Danny bundled you up appropriately for a Michigan winter and dragged you outside to make a snowman, and then once completed, he started a snowball fight, which he lost near immediately. Trips to the downtown to see all the lights, dip into the local wine bar and nibble on charcuterie, and top off the night with a steaming cup of rich hot cocoa and walking hand-in-hand.

Every night, the Wagners gathered around the menorah with you, and you'd noticed they'd started to try and pick up the blessings you recited as you light the candles, making your cheeks heat up from the warm feeling in your heart. You started enjoying the small christmas specials on the tv that the family would sit all together and watch before bed, the cozy feeling of the family unit being together filling you with a warmth even further.

The sixth night of Hanukkah fell on Christmas Eve, and you decided to get up early, and make your own effort to combine the holidays. You snuck out in a uber, going to the local bakery and picking up a dozen jelly filled donuts. You were able to sneak back in the house without suspicion, or at least, you thought you were.

Daniel Sr was standing at the kitchen sink, sipping a cup of coffee, and sending you a knowing look.

"You could've taken the car, you know." he smiled at you, and you grimaced good naturedly as you set the box on the counter.

"I didn't want to impose." you replied softly. "I wanted to do something nice, since you've all been so kind and including me and my traditions."

"We love you, and we want to celebrate with you, no thanks is necessary." Daniel Sr answered. "However, those do smell incredible." you popped open the lid and slid the box towards him. "Ooh, jelly-filled, my favorite."

"During Hanukkah, we make or get some and they're called sufganiyot." you explained. "They're really pillowy and delicious, and I thought it'd be a nice treat." Daniel Sr was already halfway through the raspberry jam filled one in his hand, humming in appreciation. You felt hands on your waist and jumped, turning slightly to see Danny behind you, sleepily looking over your shoulder into the box.

"Ooh, donuts." he reached over you and grabbed one, immediately biting into it and humming much like his own father did, getting powdered sugar all over his lips and chin. In a split second, the sugar was now on your face, Danny having pressed a sticky sweet kiss to your cheek as he moved around you to grab a cup of coffee. Lori and Josie filtered in too, and excitedly joined in on the breakfast treats with you all, sipping on coffee and sleepily discussing the exciting holiday plans.

After breakfast, everyone got ready, and it was officially cookie making time while Danny and his father did some last minute present wrapping. Lori excited draped an apron around you, telling you she was so excited to bake with you, and she got you your own apron, embroidered with your first name. You ran your fingers over the cursive thread, grinning. You, Josie and Lori began making the rugelach first, knowing the dough had to be refrigerated for at least an hour. In that time, you helped make the christmas cookies, and giggled when Lori brought out a dreidel shaped cookie cutter, claiming it was the only one she could find, but there were plenty of stars too, and that she'd love to decorate Hanukkah cookies too.

The day in the kitchen was filled with laughs and giggles, and sneaky taste tests of the treats the three of you made and decorated, and you were nearly falling asleep at the dinner table from all the fun and dancing around each other. After dinner and the lighting of the menorah, you all retired into the living room.

"Okay, so on Christmas Eve in this family, we get to open one present before the big day." Daniel Sr explained, holding an armful of cheerfully wrapped gifts. Lori handed them out and you moved from your position on the couch, snuggled into Danny's warm body, the cozy sweater he was wearing lulling you into another sleep-like state. You sat up and ran your hand over the snowflake wrapping paper, smiling as you waited for the okay to open, and tore through the paper when it was time. Inside was a cream colored cashmere sweater, a cable-knit design on the front. It was simply, but gorgeous. You looked over to Danny, who had opened a new gaming controller, but was admiring your sweater with you, pinching the soft material between his fingers. Lori placed a hand on your shoulder and you directed your attention to her.

"Danny is always wearing his dad's sweaters," she smiled as she explained. "I thought you could use one of mine and match."

"That's so sweet." you grinned, leaning over to hug her. "You didn't have to give me one of your sweaters, this one is really nice."

"I want you to have it, dear." she smiled. "Now, we should all get to bed. Santa is coming soon, and we don't want him to skip us because we were staying up too late!"

"Mom, come on." Danny chuckled with a roll of his eyes.

"Hey, you better listen to her." you sided with Lori. "This is my first Christmas, and I don't want Santa to skip me because you were naughty."

"I'll show you naughty." Danny muttered just loud enough you could hear before getting up and helping you up from the couch. You both helped clean up the wrapping paper mess and scurried away to bed, changing into the matching pajamas the Wagner family had picked out this year, and snuggling in.

"Thank you," you whispered as Danny wrapped his arms around you and tucked you into his front. "For everything. This has been amazing. Your family is amazing."

"You don't have to thank me, or them." he replied softly. "We all love you. We want to share with you, and include you. And you're including us and teaching us. We're a family, and that's what we do."

"It's amazing." you said softly, squeezing the hands that clasped together on your stomach. Danny pressed a kiss to the back of your neck as he nuzzled his nose into your hair. "Your dad asked if we could make latkes for Christmas dinner tomorrow."

"Mmm, those sound good." you could tell Danny was already starting to fall asleep, so you snuggled back into him and got comfortable, letting sleep begin to take ahold of you as well.

"Merry Christmas, Danny."

"Happy Hanukkah, darling."

Taglist: @lunaindigoraven @lvnterninthenight @allieisacrybaby @xserenax-13 @sarakay-gvf @shutupdevvie @myownparadise96 @watchingovergvf @gretavanfleetposts @gardenofgreta @streamsofstardust @joshkiszkas @jakewhorecore / @tlexx @fictional-duchess @like-a-woman-in-a-dream @josiee-gvf @ascendingtostardust @joshkiszkatoothgap @andeejoness @gardensgatedaisy @kdarling1 @demonrat444 @teddiie @writingcold @livinginthevioletsounds

#danny wagner #danny wagner x reader #danny gvf #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fluff #gvf fluff #gvf fic #greta van christmas

[roosterbox]

October Almost-Drabbles 10/7: Apple

Pairing: Cherik

Word Count: 535

Additional tags: “modern” setting, otherwise unspecified AU, no powers, canon disabled character, author is not Jewish but an attempt at keeping kosher was still made, tooth-rotting fluff (as per usual)

Side note: any info about kosher meats was obtained via Google. If it’s not right (or if the mentioned preparations aren’t okay), I apologize. Like I said before, I’m trying not to put TOO MUCH planning or forethought into these drabbles, lol. They were almost going to talk about eating squid and octopus before I thought to check.

Also I know the whole giving teachers apples thing hasn’t been in style in a very long time. I don’t even remember people doing it when I was a kid. It’s an alternate universe, man - just go with it!

Random fun fact: Honeycrisp apples were patented in 1988!

———

The first day of the school year, Charles’ desk was practically covered in apples. Some red, others green, some marbled with yellow. All were perfectly ripe, without bruise or blemish, and filled his classroom with a delicious, fruity aroma. Even the other teachers, who received a few apples of their own, were mildly jealous of the affection Charles’ students had for him.

A bit too much affection, in some cases. More than once he had to gently tell a student that, while he appreciated their regard, there were several reasons why their relationship had to remain purely professional. Such as their age, and the general inappropriateness of such a thing. And there was also his husband, who found the sheer amount of apples Charles brought home every year an endless source of amusement. Plenty for cider, for pies, for baking, or any other different permutations the two of them could conjure.

“Next year you should ask for some Honeycrisps,” Erik said that night as he stored the bags - and bags and bags - of produce.

“Got a few recipes in mind, have you?” Charles teased. With relative ease, he moved himself and his chair around their table, setting out plates and silverware.

His husband shrugged. “Not really. I just rather enjoy them. And there are so few chances these days to indulge.”

“Who would have thought you’d have the sweeter tooth between us?” There was a wine bottle on the counter. Charles took it down and brought it to the table. Excellent vintage, he thought. All that remained was the meal itself. With that in mind, he maneuvered himself out of the wheelchair and into one of the dining seats. Just in time for Erik, finally sans apples, to set the steaming dish right down in the center of the table. Charles thought it smelled absolutely divine, and said as much.

Erik blushed, though he would have denied doing so if asked. “Just an old family recipe tonight, Charles. Nothing special.”

“Anything you make for us is special, my love.”

Before going to his own seat, Erik leaned down to kiss Charles, his own way of silencing the compliments. Though he took pride in his work, Erik still couldn’t help how giddy he got from his husband’s praise.

Charles smiled as they parted. “Except,” he looked thoughtful, “for that albacore tartare from a few months ago.” His stomach growled angrily at the reminder. Sometimes, Erik’s culinary experiments were a bit too ambitious for his digestive system.

Erik grimaced. “I’m never living that down, am I?”

“Not any time soon.”

They both laughed at that. At the very least, the memory was a pleasant one, even if neither had been very happy at the time.

Sometime later, after their bellies were full of roasted meat, veggies, and wine, and they were curled up together on the sofa, Erik squeezed Charles closer, dropping a kiss to the hair of the lightly dozing man.

“I love you,” he said. Charles mumbled out a reply that might have been a returned sentiment. Might also have been gibberish. Either way, Erik was satisfied.

Almost.

“Charles,” he murmured, somewhat deep in thought, “how do you feel about… baked haddock?”

#October drabbles #cherik #apples #so much fluff #Charles is a good teacher #imagine his desk piled high with apples #lol #Erik likes trying new recipes #and while his culinary skills are excellent #they’re not perfect

[matan4il]

Good morning, sweet Alice. I want to write and comment every day! But my mood fluctuates from anger, sadness, rage, and disappointment that sometimes it's hard to find the right words or tones. Especially because it can feel petty in regards to what you are actually living through.

So I thought you know what I couldn't share anything new with you. Why don't I tell you a story back??

This has been an interesting few weeks in my corner of CA for how many people are actually paying attention now. I don't think Iran expected Hamas to succeed this far and now........ it's fucking out there. In ways that show their evil to normies that can't be ignored. In reference, especially about the baby in the over.

I had one friend call me to ask, what exactly is Hamas and for once listen to me about the answer.

I had a younger family member remove their palestine river to the sea post from a year ago and actually call me. To ask questions.

On a sad note, I have one friend whose little sister is leaving her college and coming home at the end of the semester. We can't be there to help her, but we have been door dashing and locals checking in on her. She's terrified to leave her dorm. With that, though, it's actually opening people's eyes to the leftist extremist on college campuses. At least she can come home and be safe with friends and family. She's not the only one!!

People are finally asking questions and paying attention. I think it will get uglier before it's better. But it's a loud disingenuous loud. There is push back finally. People can not comprehend the evil acts that Hamas executed. And they won't be shamed into moral equivalency it.

I hope you're all staying safe!!! Thank you for always updating us!!!

My darling friend! *hugs*

Thank you so much for this. For all of it. Your words are always kind and meaningful, and simply knowing that you wanna write daily is so beautiful, I feel blessed that you found my blog, and I got to meet you! I felt that way even before this massacre, and I feel that even more since... <333

IDK what Hamas and Iran expected. The amount of ammunition and weapons that Hamas brought with them was meant to allow them to hold entire town hostage for way longer than the 24-36 or so hours that they did (depending on which town we're talking about). I heard estimates ranging from several days to a month. Either way, they came prepared for longer than they lasted. So, did they manage more than they expected, 'coz at first they did get to kill so many defenseless civilians with no interference, as they managed to neutralize the security forces? Or did they succeed less than expected, since they lost control of Israeli towns faster than they intended? I don't know.

I do believe that Hamas (and maybe Iran as well) expected Israel to strike back, but without taking down Hamas, which is what happened in previous cases. In 2014, they kidnapped and murdered three Jewish teenagers. But for a while, the fate of those boys was unknown. The Hamas launched rockets at Israel for arresting their terrorists as Israeli security forces tried to find out what happened to the kidnapped boys. Then, by the time the bodies were recovered, dumped in a field, Hamas used the terror tunnels that they secretly built into Israeli territory in order to kidnap and kill Israelis. I'll never forget the tunnel they dug into a kindergarten. They only managed to kidnap the bodies of two Israeli soldiers. No living hostages. Maybe they thought that if they got away with that whole sequence of events, they'd get away with this, too. Maybe they really believed Israel didn't take down Hamas back then because we're cowards, not because of the cost in human life to both sides.

But as for the west's reaction, I find it incredibly reassuring to hear from you that some people have not become SO radicalized, that the massacre of Israelis is something they can justify, ignore or deny. That's comforting, but IDK how representative it is. Because I don't remember people being this bold in their antisemitism in the past, either. I don't remember that people just flat out said that Jews deserve to die for something we are not. I do not remember Jewish students being this scared on college campuses or in their own homes before this false narrative that casts Jews as colonizers of their own native land. And while I'm glad that there are people waking up, I think others are sinking even deeper into the pool of Kool Aid. I've seen people who I hadn't seen posting against Israel before doing just that, and I have seen people shamelessly denying the atrocities of the massacre... And I have no way of knowing what's happening more, people being shaken out of their apathy to the well being of Israeli Jews, or people even further de-humanizing us.

I'm so grateful for your dose of optimism! I am very much embracing it to my heart, and keeping it close to me, and I will pray with all my might that at the end of the day, people are kind, and they do recognize the reality of the threat that Israel is facing. I'm even more grateful to you for speaking up, and educating others, making sure to pass on our voices to those we can't reach. What you're doing is truly essential, and I wish I had a way to show you just how thankful I am.

Sending you all my endless love, always! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#ask #daphnesvalley #israel #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #antisemitism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #fandom love #kindness #thank you! #<33333 #little glimmers of hope

[gayscifi]

Thoughts on My Own Jewishness and the Palestinian Genocide

FREE PALESTINE 🇵🇸

(very long post)

My name is Tal, it's a Hebrew name meaning morning dew. I'm transgender and picked my name over 10 years ago because I am proud of being Jewish and wanted an obviously Jewish name. I'm 27, poor, disabled and a transgender man in a gay relationship with a cis Muslim man. I want you to have all of that context before I tell you how I feel about the current genocide of the Palestinians, the State of Isreal and my relationship to these things as a Jew.

I didn't know I was Jewish until my grandmother died when I was 12. After she died my brothers, cousins and I were put in charge of sorting through her things. We found her menorah, shabbat candle holders and kosher dishes. We were young and frankly uneducated, it was years of my eldest brother and others putting the pieces together and finding records of our family when we began to understand who we were.

Our great grandparents, on both my grandfather and grandmother's side were smuggled into America from Germany and Poland through the Houston port by a Rabbi near the beginning of WW2, the port that I've lived next to for most of my life. My grandparents were born in the Houston area and were, as I understand it "Catholic outside and Jewish at home". My grandfather's father returned to Poland after the Holocaust to try and find members of his family, he killed himself with a shogun through the head shortly after returning to the U.S, when my grandfather was still a teenager.

My grandmother had almost a dozen siblings, most of her sisters died in mental institutions and several of her brothers had killed themselves or died of overdose, my grandfather also had a dozen siblings, they had similar fates. My grandparents were alcoholics and are now both dead.

My father and his 3 siblings grew up going to Catholic school not understanding the language his parents spoke to each other or why his family was so different from the others around him. Not until my grandmother died and all the secrets began to pour out.

By the time I was 14, everyone was starting to put the pieces together. My grandparents had bought a piece of land miles away from any town when I was a baby. They hoarded films, art, music, world history books, encyclopedias, several freezers full of food, pantries of non-perishables, more guns and ammo than I ever thought anyone could use and liquor they would knock back every day with cartons of cigarettes that made the house smell like a chimney. That was their way of coping, shut the world out, be ready for the next Holocaust. Of course all of this would lead my family to believe that we were Ashkenazi Jews.

My parents had gone on a trip to Turkey before I was born and fell in love with it. My entire life it was their dream to return and raise their family there but between my father being a plant worker and mechanic and my mother a substitute teacher. It wasn't until I was 17 that we finally moved, not because we had the money but because my mother needed to be the primary source of income since my father had begun suffering from cancer. Selling most of our belongings and my mom getting a job as an English teacher finally brought my family to Turkey. My dad got to spend some of his final years there before he died.

We moved to a port city on the Black Sea near the Georgian border named Trabzon. Strangely, I felt at home immediately. I had learned Turkish enough to go out, make friends and get a part time job within 6 months. My father and I didn't read as foreigners to the locals at all, in fact many elder people would come up to me speaking Lazca, the language of the Laz people, one of the many small Caucus tribes in the region, assuming I was Laz myself and could help translate for them to Turks in the city.

There were very few foreigners in the city and most of us knew each other since most of us taught at the foreign language schools. One of the teachers I was friends with was a boy, now a man, my same age, who was born and raised in a refugee camp in Jordan. His father, Palestinian and his mother, Cherkess(another Caucus tribe who had been displaced). He spoke 4 different languages and taught Arabic and English at the same school I worked at.

We became fast friends, being the youngest(only 18 at the time) at the school. Both his parents and mine were wary of our closeness but we genuinely didn't understand their issues with our friendship.

He told me about growing up in the camps in Jordan, he told me about being Palestinian and Cherkess and not being able to go to either of his homes. I told him about being Jewish and how my identity was kept secret for generations for the safety of my family.

He asked me what I thought about Isreal and to be honest this was my first time thinking of it, since I'd only been to a synagogue a handful of times and hadn't been subject to Zionist propaganda in American Jewish spaces. He told me about Zionism from a Palestinian perspective, how he had watched the news for years hearing about his cousins and other family members dying at the hands of the IDF.

I found it appalling, how could Jewish people, my people, be doing such atrocities to others after what I known we had been through. The Holocaust, the genocide of my people had left scars on every member of my family that had made most of them unable to continue living.

That conversation, just months into our years long friendship has shaped me into the person I am today. He gave me a Keffiyeh that night and I told him that I would never go to Palestine until we could go together. We cried for a long time that night, sharing stories.

After living in Turkey and learning more about the different Caucus tribes in the region my eldest brother and I determined the origin of our last name. A Turkic name, not German or Polish, meaning that my family was not entirely Ashkenazi but instead from the Black Sea Region, most likely the small Jewish Crimean tribe called Krymchak, the majority of the whom died in the Holocaust and I had been unknowingly living the closest to home that my family had in generations. In Turkey, on the Black Sea, not in Isreal.

I am proud of being Jewish. I love how I have found my identity and am part of the first generation of my family since the Holocaust to be authentic in my ethnicity. Zionism will never take that away from me. Zionism is a lie, an evil, manipulative, murderous political agenda. I have not and will never be a part of it and it will never take my Jewishness away from me.

I have found more in common with Palestinians I have met through protesting Isreal, more in common with ethnic minorities protesting U.S. imperialism, more in common with other displaced minorities than I have ever found with Isreal.

The genocide of the Palestinians is always on my mind but I feel no guilt as a Jewish person. I know I am not to blame nor have I ever been complicit in this genocide but to my fellow Jews, who are in pro-Zionist, pro-Isreali spaces, I am calling for a radical change in those communities, wake the fuck up.

Fuck Isreal, fuck Zionism, fuck American and European Imperialism and fuck antisemitism. I have a particular hatred for these so called "Pro-Jewish" actions happening in North America and Europe. German civilians knew of the death camps during the Holocaust and did nothing. Now their children and grandchildren are saying that Palestinians are anitsemites while they live on the wealth and land they extracted from dead Jews.

The rise of global antisemitism is in part because of the State of Isreal, because of Zionism, because of the atrocities committed by Jewish people, their twisted, evil and cruel treatment of Palestinians for years that has led to genocide. Supporting Palestinians in their struggle against annihilation is not and will never be antisemitism and to say it is shows how little you understand Jewish or Palestinian history.

Recognize Zionism for what it truly is; a way for powerful nations to rid themselves of their Jewish populations and use them as cannon fodder for control over land and resources in the Middle East. Joe Biden said it himself "If Israel didn't exist, we would have to invent it." This is not a war for a "safe home for the Jewish people", it is an ethnic cleansing of Palestinians to claim power and control.

Palestinians have every right to resist annihilation. My heart aches, knowing deeply what genocide does to those who remain.

I will continue to support the Palestinian cause in every way I know how.

From the River to the Sea,

Palestine will be Free 🇵🇸

#anti zionisim #free palestine #anti zionist jews #jewish history #palestine #mine

[brucenat]

February 14th

AO3

Fanfiction

Summary: As far as Natasha's aware, her plans for February 14th this year consist of running errands and lunch with her partner. Post-AoU, canon divergence in which Hulk did not sail off into the bowels of the cosmos.

Notes: You might be wondering why I'm posting a Valentine's Day fic in June. The answer is triple-pronged: (1) you all have been very patient, you deserve something light and sweet, (2) this is from a collection of unposted fics written 1-4 years ago that I decided to try and salvage instead of flinging into the bowels of the cosmos (where Bruce/Hulk didn't belong), and (3) because I want to, as Brucenat fans are always in need of more joy.

Preview

Preview continues under the cut.

Nestled between some corporate office building and a rival residential complex, the refuge of her apartment awaited her. The quaint cafe across the street bursted with bodies—more so than any cafe within walking distance of Central Park did on a typical day. A few couples and families gradually dispersed from the Jewish center on the corner. Cars congested the street, their drivers extra impatient today, judging by the incessant cacophony of horns.

With a bag of pharmaceutical supplies slung over her wrist and two sandwiches from one of the many nearby delis tucked under her arm, she retrieved her apartment keys with swift hands and escaped the restless city streets. As always, out of a perpetual distrust and skepticism of elevators, she took the stairs up to her unit’s floor.

At the apex of her ascent, she emerged into the hallway to a chilled breeze. Someone opened the hall’s one window again. Probably the neighbor prone to triggering the fire alarm with kitchen misadventures that happened whenever the woman plucked up the courage to try some recipe from Pinterest. It happened about every other week, complete with the woman thrusting the window open in a frenzy that included a frantic fanning of her door and miscellaneous shouts that alternated between apology and insistence on everyone carrying about with their day like normal, as if there wasn’t a tinnitus-inducing alarm screeching. Once the alarm stopped, her neighbor would retreat with a slam of her door and the hall window open, forgotten every time. It was a nuisance at most, but benign.

Today, despite it being the middle of February, the incoming air didn’t have the sharpened teeth of a New York winter; it was tamer. It was crisp; it felt like something she could snap into pieces and scatter like ashes or seeds. It felt like, smelled like the kind of air not found in an American metropolis. The keenness, gentled to ribbons as it filtered through the screen, compelled her to sidestep from the stairwell door for a moment in appreciation.

...

The prolonged moment passed like time underwater. Before she crossed the threshold for overstaying in the hallway amidst reverie, she tucked the thoughts away, pushed off the wall, and approached her place. Her key glided into the lock, and then she into her apartment.

Handle in hand, door halfway closed, Natasha froze.

#avianink #brucenat #brutasha #natasha romanoff #hulkwidow #bruce banner #brutasha fanfiction #avengers #natasha pov #natasha romanov #general fic #february 14th #canon divergence

[classicschronicles]

Hi lovelies,

A few days ago this new Bollywood movie called Pathaan, starring Shah Rukh Khan and John Abrahams, came out and so obviously I HAD to go and watch it. But fun fact about me is that I am literally a melting pot of different cultures. My dads family are Indian-Kenyan. My mums family were initially (back in the 5th-7th century) a family of Jewish royalty in what is now Afghanistan (which is actually pretty cool). They converted to Islam some time later and became part of a very particular Afghani tribe called the Pathaan (also another reason I had to watch this movie). Over the course of the next few centuries they migrated from Afghanistan to India, before being forced into Pakistan because of colonialism. Throughout all of this, my mums branch of the Pathaan tribe stuck together and so even still, my mum’s family in pure Pathaan, but I’m only half Pathaan because my mum married out. However, me being me did some deep diving into this because it’s actually pretty cool that my family tree can be traced back that far. Okay so at this point you’re probably wondering how on earth this related to Classics, but I found out that the Pathaan langue (Pashto) is actually about 2500 years old, which makes it about the same age as Latin and therefore a classical language! And so today I thought I would tell you a little bit about Pashto.

The Pashto language belongs to the Indi-Iranian language family and is mainly spoken by the ethnic communities of Afghanistan and western provinces of Pakistan, which is partially inhabited by Pashtuns (aka Pathaan’s). It is also still the native language of the indigenous Pathaan people. The language is said to have originated in the Kandahar district of Afghanistan and is said to be one of the two national languages (the other being Dari, a Persian language).

The vocabulary of Pashto has actually not been borrowed or derived from other languages, which is extremely rare for any language still spoken in a modern setting. Many of its lexis do, however, relate to other Eastern Iranian languages such as Pamir and Ossetia.

The exact origin of the Pashto language and the Pathaan tribes are unknown, but the word ‘Pashto’ derives from the regular phonological process. Nevertheless, the Pathaan are sometimes compared with the Pakhta tribes mentioned in Rigvenda, around 1700-1100 B.C., apparently they are the same people that the Greek historian Herodotus referred to Paktika (a northern province in Afghanistan). However, this comparison appears to be due in large part to the apparent similarity between their names, despite the fact that etymologically it can’t really be justified. But there are some archeological compilations and historical data and so the majority of researchers now believe that the Pashto language is around 25000 years old.

Herodotus also mentions the Paktika ‘Apridai’ tribe but it is unknown what language they spoke. However, Strabo (who lived between 64 B.C. and 24 C.E.) suggests that the tribes inhabiting the lands west of the Indus River were part of Ariana and to their east was India. Since about the 3rd century B.C. and onwards from that, these tribes were mostly referred to by the name ‘Afghan’ (or ‘Abgan’) and their language as ‘Afghani’.

Many historians and scholars believe that the earliest piece of written Pashto work dates back to the 8th century. However, a lot of history outside of the western empires lacks the same clarity and information and so even this is highly disputed. However, during the 17th century, Pashto poetry became very popular amongst the Pathaan.

To be honest, there isn’t a whole lot of information on the Pashtun language or the origin of the Pathaan, other than that they have been around since the B.C. But it’s pretty cool to me that my families culture has such a long history. This entry was pretty special to me so hopefully you all enjoyed it and I hope you all have a lovely rest of your weekend!

~Z

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