#hanukkah ficlet

[theresawritesstuff]

I’d love to hear how Lenny and Kitty’s Hanukkah visit went if you’re up for it!

(Follow up to this one ❤️)

Midge had always loved Hanukkah growing up. It had always been one of the more low stress excuses for her family to gather together. A time full of good food and laughter. Of candlelight and snow.

She'd certainly developed a newfound fondness for the snow since a certain fateful night in November.

Her hand went absently to her still yet unchanged abdomen as she watched the soft flurry falling outside her window onto the street below, eyeing every passing cab with fluttery anticipation.

“Are they here yet?” her father asked curiously.

She hadn't told him the full story. Only that Lenny and his daughter would be stopping in for a visit. 

She'd break the news to her parents as to why they'd decided to spend the holiday together once the New Year rolled around…

She shook her head, dropping her hand away before he noticed. “Not yet. Soon though, I'd imagine. I'll let you know.”

Her father chuckled. “I imagine it will be fairly obvious,” he replied, patting her shoulder before returning to his book.

He didn't end up getting much quiet time before there was a knock at the door, a snow dusted Lenny standing on the other side with a bag of presents in one hand, and the tiny mitten clad hand belonging to his daughter in the other.

“Hi,” he greeted with a hesitant smile.

“Hi,” she smiled in return, welcoming them inside.

He looked good.

Tired still, but good. 

She hadn't realized until then just how much she'd been looking forward to seeing him again.

Their calls had been nice over the last month or so, but nothing quite compared to seeing him face to face.

Lenny remembered himself, glancing down at the little girl by his side. “Uh, this is Kitty. Kit, this is Daddy's friend Midge I told you about.”

“It's nice to meet you,” Kitty said, gazing up at her shyly from under a little pink hat.

Dear lord she was adorable.

“It's very nice to meet you too,” Midge replied, bending down to her level. “I love your hat.”

Kitty's face lit up. “Daddy took me shopping before we left. He said you really like hats.”

Midge fought back a smirk as Lenny squirmed a bit. “It's true. I have a closet full to prove it too. Maybe later you could try on a few, if you like.”

Kitty's smile grew even brighter. “Really?”

“Sure. Why not? I love any excuse to play dressup.”

“Okay.” Kitty nodded excitedly.

“Okay,” Midge repeated with a laugh before schooling her expression. “Now Kitty, I have a very serious question for you…”

The little girl swallowed, listening intently.

“Do you like latkes?” Midge asked, a smile breaking slyly across her face.

Kitty relaxed, bobbing her head. “Uh-huh!”

“Would you like to make some? I thought that might be a fun thing we could all do together,” the comedienne offered, glancing over her shoulder briefly. “My kids are around here somewhere too.”

“Sure! But don't put Daddy in charge of frying,” Kitty warned.

Midge arched a brow at Lenny as she stood back up.

Lenny scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “I uh…I tried making them one year. Ma was busy. They got a little burnt.”

She put a comforting hand absently on his arm, assuring Kitty “Happens to the best of us. But don't you worry. I'm a latke expert.”

Remembering herself, she pulled away, remarking brightly “You guys are probably famished! We should get started.” She turned to call down the hallway “Kids? Come say hi to Lenny and Kitty!”

Small footsteps soon thundered down the hall, bringing her son in to greet them.

“Goodness!” she laughed at the sudden entrance. “Lenny, Kitty, this is–”

“Hi I'm Ethan!” her son interrupted with a chipper grin. 

“Hi,” Kitty greeted shyly, giving the boy a little wave.

“Do you like comic books? I've got the latest Wonder Woman issue if you want to read it,” he offered.

“Oh. Um, okay sure,” Kitty smiled.

Ethan led her back into the living room to show off his collection.

“And they're off,” Midge chuckled.

“Seems like a nice kid,” Lenny replied.

“He is. He's got a good heart.”

Midge looked down, finally taking full notice of the bag of gifts in his hand. 

“Can I help you with that?” she offered.

“Oh, right!” Lenny handed it to her awkwardly, taking the opportunity to remove his coat. “Didn't want to show up empty handed. Just a few little things for the kids mostly.”

“I'm sure they'll love whatever you brought,” she assured him, smiling softly. “I'm…I'm glad you could make it.”

“Me too.” He hesitated for a moment before leaning in to kiss her cheek, hovering a little closer when she didn't pull away. “It's good to see you. You look good.”

“For a woman in my condition,” she quipped quietly. “You look good too.”

“Sure,” he laughed. “For a woman in my condition.”

She shook her head fondly, feeling a flush creep across her skin as they settled into their familiar banter.

Things had been good between them over the phone, keeping each other updated, enjoying each other's company from opposite coasts, but she couldn't help but wonder if it would feel different once they were in the same room again.

If the spark would still be there or if the reality that she was pregnant with his child would shatter the magic between them.

But standing here with him now…

Well in a way it was different, and yet exactly the same.

She still felt that same gravity pulling her closer to him.

She just didn't feel the need to fight it anymore.

And maybe it was just that they'd been talking more or that part of her was still an optimist but Lenny, for his part, seemed more open. Less guarded and more…well she couldn't quite say what. But it looked good on him.

It almost looked like hope.

Esther wandered in, carrying a book that was as large as her torso, hugging it to herself as she peered up at the adults. “Hi.”

“Hello,” Lenny greeted, pulling back to a more respectable distance at getting caught staring for probably a bit too long. “You must be Esther.”

“Yeah... I guess when I'm older I could change it if I want,” the little girl reasoned dryly.

Lenny fought back a laugh, blown back by the unexpected remark. “I'm Lenny. It's nice to meet you.”

Esther looked him over with eyes more astute than her years, before finally juggling her grasp on her book to shake his hand. “Nice to meet you too.”

Looking up at her mother, she commented “He sounds dif’went than I thought.”

“Oh?” Midge wondered, fighting a laugh.

Instead of offering an explanation the little girl just shrugged. “Are we gonna eat soon?”

“Soon. Go get your brother and Kitty and meet us in the kitchen.”

Turning back to Lenny when Esther had gone she ventured, “So. You ready to meet my parents again?”

Lenny chuckled, still getting over Esther’s unintended wit. “Third time's a charm?”

“Sure,” Midge nodded, leading him into the apartment before fully processing his statement. “Wait, what?”

Somehow they managed not to burn a single latke. 

Even more impressive, they managed to eat all of them. Midge had prepped enough potatoes to feed an army.

And he should know. He'd had his fair share of mess hall duty back in the Navy.

Lenny smiled softly to himself as he watched the snow out the window later that evening, enjoying the quiet.

The kids had declared themselves best friends before the first latkes even hit the oil and practically demanded to have a sleepover as part of the night.

Abe and Rose had gone out to the theater shortly after dinner.

Leaving just him and Midge to hold down the fort for the evening.

Her parents had made excuses about having bought their tickets before they knew Lenny would be coming but he had his suspicions to the contrary.

Either way he was grateful for the chance at some alone time.

Looking out at the river now, the city lights sparkling across the icy surface, he couldn't help but think he hadn't given this view a proper appreciation last time he'd been here.

But then a lot of things had changed since he'd been here last.

He hadn't been sure how he would feel about being back in New York after having been ready to leave it all behind only a month before.

But now that he was back–now that he was with her, he realized, it felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

He could admit it to himself now that seeing Midge at the airport that day had saved him from a very dark road. 

And while he still had a number of obstacles yet to overcome, they felt less daunting than they had before.

Because she'd been there to help him start to turn things around.

Because she thought he was someone worth helping. Believed he wasn't a lost cause.

And if she could believe that even after everything that had happened between them… Well maybe he could believe it a little bit too.

Midge walked in to join him, rubbing the last bits of her hand cream in.

“I swear I feel like always wreak of potatoes for days after squeezing them out like that,” she chuckled, inspecting her hands self-consciously.

Lenny smirked. “Who knows, there might be a market for that. You could have your own perfume line someday.”

“Everyone's gotta have a retirement plan,” she quipped, taking a seat on the couch. “The kids certainly enjoyed their presents.”

Lenny nodded. “I don't think Kitty is going to let that Barbie you got her out of her sight.”

“She's a sweet girl,” Midge smiled. “I'm glad you could bring her.”

“Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

He gazed at her a moment in the lamplight.

Taking her in.

Gathering his courage.

“I um…I got you a little something too, you know,” he ventured, coming slowly to join her.

“Oh?”

She raised a curious brow, those expressive eyes of hers sparkling.

He'd missed those smiling eyes.

“Well, two somethings,” he clarified. “You get to pick which one you want.”

She blinked, confusion coloring her smile. “I don't get both?”

“That depends…”

“On what?” she wondered.

“On your answer.”

He pulled the ring box he'd been carrying from inside his jacket pocket, setting it down still closed on the coffee table in front of her.

“Oh…” she breathed.

“I've thought about it a lot, Miriam,” he informed her, sitting down but still keeping a respectable distance. “About you. Us… I'm a better man when you're in my life. You make me want to be better. You certainly deserve a hell of a lot better than me but…if you'll have me? Because I'd like to try to be worthy of you, pregnant or not. I've loved you for a very long time now and I would happily worship at your alter for the rest of my days. If you'll let me.”

Midge stared dumbstruck at the unexpected little box, her heart racing.

She'd hoped someday they might– but she told herself not to expect anything. He had so much on his plate already. She didn't want him to feel like she was another obligation. But she had hoped all the same...

At her silence, he added gently “You don't have to answer right away. Just know that I'll still be there for you–both of you–no matter what you decide.”

“Yes,” she breathed, her voice catching in her throat as tears pricked her eyes. “God, Lenny yes, Yes!”

A watery laugh escaped her as she dabbed her eyes, trying to save her makeup.

“Gah! You know you're not supposed to make the pregnant lady cry. Kind of rule number one.”

Lenny chuckled, his own eyes looking a little misty as he reached for her, wiping a tear with his thumb as he caressed her cheek. “Sorry sweetheart. I'll try to avoid it in the future.”

Midge smiled, kissing him tenderly. “That future sounds pretty nice.”

His arms encircled her as she recaptured his lips, pulling her closer until she was comfortably settled in his lap, the two of them getting lost in the embrace.

Being in his arms like this again, finding a love like his was something she never thought she'd get. 

She'd convinced herself that no man could possibly love every part of her, could be willing and ready to accept her, to love her as both a comic and as a woman.

But Lenny did. She could always be her whole self with him, right from the start.

That night in that very blue room had been one of the best nights of her life.

She'd thought she'd lost her chance at ever having that again after Carnegie Hall.

So to have him here now, holding her like this, telling her he loved her, promising her a future for both them and their child… Well it felt nothing short of miraculous.

But then again it was a time for celebrating miracles.

And finding Lenny after she thought her life had fallen apart was nothing short of a miracle.

She smiled against his lips, pulling away to catch her breath and rest her forehead against his. 

“So are you gonna open the box or do I have to do it myself?” she teased breathlessly.

He smirked, shifting to grab it without dumping her off his lap, opening it as he offered it to her. “I guessed at the size. We can get something else if–”

“It's perfect,” she insisted, taking it in.

The diamond was modest in size, more suited to her hand than a larger stone would have been, accented with two small sapphires on either side that caught the light just so.

She carefully pulled the ring from the box to slip it on her finger.

It was a perfect fit.

She swallowed, grinning as she held her hand up, admiring it in the light for him to see.

“Here's hoping my fingers don't swell too much,” she quipped.

He hugged her tighter, kissing her temple. “If they do, you can borrow mine,” he promised.

She hiccuped an undignified laugh, snuggling in closer, kissing his jaw. “How considerate.”

“Figured it's the least I can do.”

She turned to face him more fully. “I love you Lenny. I know it's a bit of an odd time to say that for the first time, but I do. I hope you know that.”

A smirk tugged at his lips. “I wasn't entirely certain but when you said you intended to have my love child I felt I had a little room to hope.”

She shook her head, pulling him in for another kiss.

“Still, it's nice to hear,” he murmured.

“Yes it is,” she agreed.

His hand cupped her cheek tenderly as he looked into her eyes, reminding himself this was real.

“I love you, Miriam Weissman.”

“I love you, Lenny Bruce.”

A grin he couldn't quite contain broke across his face as he hugged her close, tucking her head under his chin. “Yup. Very nice to hear.”

“Indeed,” Midge murmured, enjoying the cuddle. 

After a moment, she added jokingly “Can I have my other present now?”

Lenny barked the laugh that had quickly become her favorite as he fumbled in his jacket for another present. “Here.”

She unwrapped the little rectangle he placed in her hands, revealing a pink notebook monogrammed with the letter M in the corner.

She was glad to see there was still room for another initial if she wanted to add another.

She pressed her lips together, trying to hold back a giggle.

“What?” he wondered.

She shook her head, turning to pull a very similarly shaped parcel from the drawer of the end table beside the couch, handing it to him.

He unwrapped it carefully, unveiling a notebook bound in blue.

Raising a brow he peeked inside the cover, finding her carefully practiced scrawl.

“For all your funny things to say. Dad jokes included. Love, Midge,” he read aloud.

“Depraved minds think alike?” she shrugged.

“Something like that,” he murmured affectionately. “Happy Hanukkah.”

“Happy Hanukkah.”

She cuddled into his side, watching the candlelight dance against the window pane, enjoying the quiet closeness they'd carved out for themselves.

“You know what?” she murmured.

“Hm?”

“I think we're starting to figure it out.”

He smiled, kissing the top of her hair, threading his fingers with hers over her stomach.

And for once, he actually felt good thinking about the future.

“Maybe we are.”

#Midgelenny #midge x lenny #tmmm fic #Prompt fill #Hanukkah ficlet

[stevesbipanic]

@steddiemas Day 8: Hanukkah Traditions

Steve was nervous. He'd moved in with Eddie and Wayne a month ago since his parents told him in no uncertain terms to be out by the time they got back. The past month had felt so warm and loving. But Hanukkah was beginning tomorrow and Steve was freaking out.

"Sweetheart, you don't need to stress out about it, you don't even need to join in the traditions if you don't want to. Plus Wayne and I are very chill about it, I think Wayne just likes to remember his mother's stories the most, she would've loved you."

"But it is important, Eds! You and Wayne have been so good to me and I want to show you that I appreciate that."

Eddie sighed moving towards him, curling Steve's clenched hands and intertwining their fingers.

"We know you appreciate it, Stevie, and we both love you so much, secretly I think Wayne prefers you." Steve has a quirk of a smile for a moment.

"Only cause I don't burn the toast when I make breakfast."

"It was one time and I was 12, sorry for putting effort into father's day for him," Eddie joked. "C'mon let's go help Wayne finish letting up."

Later, when the menorah was set and ready on the windowsill, cabinets stocked with ingredients for all the food they'd make, and gifts wrapped for the week ahead, the three men sat with mugs of coffee despite the late hour.

"You ready for your first Hanukkah, Steve?" Wayne asked.

"I think so, Eddie has told me a bit but I'm excited to learn."

"That's good of you, son, don't worry if you don't get it all right away, Eddie tried lighting all the candles at once when he was little."

"Can we lay off poor baby Eddie, he was a sweet boy."

"A sweet boy that brought toads home as pets."

"The frogs are mean to them."

Wayne chuckled at his nephews antics.

"Would you like to hear the story of Judah and the Maccabees, Steve? My memory isn't as good as it used to be but I'm sure I can make it as exciting as my Ma used to tell it."

"I'd love to," Steve smiled. Wayne smiled softly, getting comfy in his chair and began to tell the tale. Steve leaned into Eddie as he listened, he might not know all the traditions yet, but it already feels more like home and family than Christmas with his parents ever did.

Ao3

#forgive me as someone with few jewish friends if any of this is wrong and please correct me if it is ❤️ #hanukkah isnt as big in Australia probably because we dont have as big population of people that observe the holiday #but jewish eddie is def one i can see #and steve just wants to learn and be a good bf #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddiemas #ficlet #jewish eddie munson

[unclewaynemunson]

Eddie hated Christmas. He hated it ever since that time in primary school when they had to put on a nativity play and everyone but him seemed to care about that stupid Jesus story; he didn’t even know what it was about until his teacher pulled him aside to explain it to him (which only happened after Brad made fun of him for it). He hated it ever since that time they had to craft some stupid paper mache Santa, when he jumped on a table to yell at all his classmates that Santa wasn’t even real (after which his teacher scolded him and made him stand in the corner for the remainder of the day). He hated it ever since that time their classroom got a Christmas tree and his teacher demanded that he’d participate in decorating it, while refusing to let him bring a menorah from home instead.

He didn’t understand why he was forced to participate in this thing that wasn’t even his. He didn’t understand why his teachers never allowed him share the stories that his uncle always told him during the darkest days of the year: stories about the bravery of the Maccabees, the holiness of the Temple far away in Jerusalem, and the miracle of the candles. His uncle usually never talked much, but whenever they had a holiday to celebrate, he’d share the most wonderful and captivating stories in his slow, solemn voice. (Eddie had believed that his uncle was a rabbi until an embarrassingly late age).

When the first Christmas after he started dating Steve came around, he dreaded it. It was obvious to him that Steve was the kind of guy who’d care a great deal about Christmas. He’d probably want to do it all properly: hang a ridiculous amount of lights, have a big dinner, put presents under a neatly decorated tree... Eddie wanted to be on board with that, for Steve, but by G’d, he hated Christmas.

Little did Eddie know that Steve hated Christmas, too. Steve hated it ever since that Christmas dinner in some hotel in Paris, or Dubai, or maybe it was Buenos Aires, when his parents had systemically refused to talk to each other and the tension in the room was nearly sharp enough to cut the turkey without any knife. He hated it even more ever since his parents gave up on doing holidays altogether and Christmas became nothing but a check and a greeting card for him.

Eddie was baffled when Steve, on a dark evening in early December, told him how much he was struggling with the idea of turning the holiday around to make a new tradition with Eddie. Eddie laughed, full of relief, and told him he shouldn’t worry about it. They both delighted in the discovery that the other also hated Christmas, and Steve was genuinely excited to learn all about Chanukkah instead. Eddie invited him over to the trailer every evening, where they’d light the candles together and eat sufganiyot, and Wayne would tell them all the stories that were so familiar for Eddie and so new to Steve. And even though Steve didn’t share in their history, this tradition became theirs, more than Christmas could ever have.

#jewish eddie? thoughts? #strangerthingsfestivefun #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #christmas #hanukkah #stranger things #fruity ficlet

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

You Know Why

Prompt Day 7: Hanukkah | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: None | Tags: Canon Divergence Post-Season 4, Eddie Munson Lives, Gift Giving, Mutual Attraction, Flirting and Wooing

Eddie comes home from work, tired, and ready to wash the whole day off him. Working at the plant isn't for him, he knows it, Wayne knows it, everybody else that works there, knows it. But Eddie keeps going, keeps working, just so he has a way to help Wayne keep the lights on. 

When he stumbles into the kitchen, there's a small package wrapped on the counter. That's odd. It is the first night of Hanukkah, but Wayne's never really been one to leave gifts. Not like this. Eddie picks it up and shakes it. 

It's wrapped in blue paper, but not terribly well. Eddie checks the tag and it is for him, so he opens it, carefully.

It's a watch, similar to the one he destroyed in the lake. But this one has a calculator on it. Little buttons for each number, and that's pretty cool. He's seen these before, but they cost about twice as much as the standard version, so he figured he could definitely do without all the bells and whistles. 

He hadn't replaced his watch, not yet, and this one is nice. Thoughtful. Maybe Wayne did buy him a new watch, tired of him always asking what time it is, and just didn't want to make a fuss about it. 

But Dustin has been wearing one like this recently, and Eddie wonders if that's exactly where this came from. Dustin would be into Hanukkah, way more than Wayne. 

Eddie takes it out of the box, off the little stand it's displayed on, and lays it across his wrist, fastening the strap. Eddie looks down. This is great. He wishes he'd had this in school, maybe he'd have done better on his math tests with a little help from a calculator on his wrist. 

The next night, there's another box. It doesn't weigh anything, but when he unwraps it, it's a new bandana. With a big dragon in the middle. He loves it, and immediately stuffs it in his back pocket. 

These are great presents. Thoughtful. From someone that knows him pretty well. 

On the third night, there's a package of guitar strings, the exact kind he uses on Sweetheart. While it could be Jeff or Gareth, he's pretty confident that it isn't. 

This stuff is from Steve. He's sure of it. They've been dancing around each other for weeks, months. Testing the waters. 

So, on night four, Eddie waits, sitting in the trailer in the dark. And sure enough, he hears the crunch of gravel, footsteps on the unsteady porch before the door opens, and Steve steps inside. Eddie watches as he sits the newest gift on the counter, before turning to leave, not even noticing him on the couch.

"Whatcha got there?" Eddie asks, and Steve jumps so high it's hilarious.

"Nothing," Steve says, defensive.

"Is it for me?" Eddie asks, singsonging. 

"Maybe," Steve says, putting his hands on his hips, "I thought you were supposed to be at work."

"Huh, I said that, didn't I?" Eddie questions, teasing him.

"You're an asshole," Steve says, but there's no heat there. 

"I just wanted to see if it was you, and surprise! It was."

"Very funny. I just wanted to do something nice for you without making a fuss, is that a crime now?" Steve asks, hands still on his hips, looking very annoyed by this entire situation.

"No, of course not," Eddie says, walking over and picking up the package, "can I open this?"

"After I leave you can," Steve says, a little haughtily. Eddie loves that bitchy tone. Steve's definitely bitchy at heart, and it is more attractive than you'd imagine.

Eddie doesn't listen, and just starts unwrapping the present. Pulling off the paper, and popping the tape on the box. 

It's a set of DnD dice. Metal, beautiful. He's never seen anything like them. He turns them over in his hand. 

"Wow, where did you get these?" Eddie asks, looking up to meet Steve's eyes. 

Steve crosses his arms across his chest, defensively. It's a weirdly hostile reaction. 

"A hobby shop. In Indianapolis. I special ordered them," he says.

"You special ordered them. For me?" Eddie asks, though the answer to that is fucking obvious. Of course he did.

"No, for Mike. Yes, for you."

"Why?" Eddie asks.

Steve rolls his eyes, "You know why."

"Do I?" Eddie asks, genuinely a little confused right now.

Steve looks exasperated. 

"The other four boxes are in my car. If you just want them now," Steve says, wilting, just a little. 

Eddie shakes his head. He doesn't want them now. He wants them for the next four days. He wishes he could go back and not do this. Not ruin this nice thing Steve was doing for him. 

"I'm sorry I lied. I'm sorry I was here when you showed up. Thank you for thinking of me. For thinking of Hanukkah," Eddie rambles. 

Steve just nods, and turns to leave. 

"Steve?" Eddie says, trying to get him to stop.

Steve stops, but doesn't turn to look at him.

"I do know why. I do," he says.

Steve sort of hangs his head forward, like he's gotten bad news. This isn't bad news, Eddie thinks. This is great news. 

"And?" Steve says, so quietly he barely hears him. 

"And, I want that. Too. If you do," Eddie says, taking a step towards him, putting his hand on Steve's shoulder.

Steve does turn then, but still looks cautious. Embarrassed. Maybe even a little ashamed, and Eddie feels guilty. For putting him on the spot. For making him feel so uncomfortable. 

"I wasn't sure," Steve finally says, "if it was, you know, mutual."

"It is," Eddie says, quickly. Too quickly, but it makes Steve smile. 

"Okay. Okay, good," Steve says, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. 

Is this seriously Steve Harrington trying to woo someone? It's hilariously bad, Eddie thinks. 

But Eddie's impulsive, so he says, "Well, are you gonna kiss me or not, Big Boy?"

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #hanukkah #gift giving #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

[gay-jewish-bucky]

Do they do gifts for hanukkah? When do they give them to each other ?

So, after doing some research, it looks like Hanukkah gifts (which developed in response to the increased commodification of Christmas in the 19th century) didn't really gain popularity until the 1950s, prior to that gelt was most commonly given.

The second way we can understand gift-giving as a Jewish custom is with the introduction of Hanukkah gelt in Europe during the 18th century. Many believe this custom developed because of the etymological connection between Hanukkah and education. Chinuch (education) shares the same Hebrew root (Chet/nun/chaf) as Chanukah (dedication). For this reason, education and specifically Torah study became a central practice during Hanukkah. (x)

Dianne C. Ashton, Director of American Studies at Rowan University and author of Hanukkah in America: A History, explains that the trend of exchanging Hanukkah gifts really took off in the 1950s. At this time, Jewish child psychologists as well as rabbis started promoting gifts as a way to make post-Holocaust Jewish kids happy to be Jewish, rather than sad about missing out on Christmas. (x)

So, this tradition would be new to them post-war.

I think before the war, the Barnes family would use the excuse of Christmas to preform tzedakah and give Steve and Sarah things they needed without causing them guilt or shame (like how they'd sell them their hametz during Passover and insist they eat it). Gifts like sweaters, hats and scarves, socks, warm blankets, preserved foods... things that would help them get through the bitter New York winters in their drafty tenement.

I think Steve and Bucky are introduced to modern Hanukkah gift-giving by Bucky's family, when the two return to America from Wakanda.

In Bucky's family they give a single present each night, starting small on the first night and moving up from there.

That first Hanukkah back state-side, when Bucky is finally with his family again, Steve has a plan for the first night, which he carries out with the help of Bucky's elderly sisters.

In Irish tradition the claddagh is given from mother to her eldest daughter, Sarah Rogers never had a daughter, but she was a smart woman. Before she passed, she left her ring with the Barnes family for safekeeping, knowing in her heart Steve and Bucky would need it one day.

After the candles are lit everyone gives each other their present.

Bucky's gift for Steve is the sketchbook he had when they were at the front. Steve breaks down, he hadn't seen it since before he went into the ice.

Once all the other gifts are handed out, Steve gives Bucky his.

Inside the small necklace box is Steve's Ma's claddagh, hanging from a silver chain, Bucky's eyes widen and start to glisten when he realizes what he's looking at, and Steve asks Bucky to marry him,

'I once said even when I had nothing, I had you... that's as true today as it was when I was just that little guy from Brooklyn, you were the only one who saw me back then and you were the first one to see through the serum.

I love you Buck, I always have, even if it took us a while to get our heads out of our asses.

It feels like every time I lost you, no matter how that destroyed me, fate was determined to give us another chance to get it right.

And, well... we always promised each other 'till the end of the line', so I think it's time we made it official, really get it right this time... would you do me the honour of becoming my husband?'

Bucky says yes, of course he does, there is a lot of happy crying and mazel tovs, and Bucky kisses Steve all over his stupid face after Steve clasps the chain around his neck.

#this got away from me #Jewish Holiday Writings - Hanukkah #marvel #mcu #stevebucky #stucky #jewish!bucky #jewish!bucky barnes #jewish bucky #jewish bucky barnes #steve rogers #steven grant rogers #bucky #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #captain america #sarah rogers #ficlet #hanukkah #Assorted Jewish Writings - Marriage/Family/Home

[critrolesideblog]

"Essek, won't you come join us?" Jester was smiling at him as she walked up the beach toward him, her fangs gleaming in Catha's silvery moonlight. She was just outside of the fire glow, but Essek could clearly see her tail swishing mischievously behind her, the same way a cat's does when it's spotted its prey. He smiled at her affectionately.

"No."

"Awww, c'mon, man! Everyody's doing it!" She gestured broadly to the beach around them.

It was true that the shores of Nicodranas were quite crowded for the early midnight hour, which at least disproved Essek's earlier suspicion that this New Dawn tradition might be an elaborate prank. If it was, they had managed to get all of Nicodranas in on it.

He had happily participated in many of the Nein's varied New Dawn traditions over the course of the night. They had eaten long noodles for dinner (a Zadashian tradition adopted by Yasha) and apples dipped in honey (a Zemnian tradition). They had found kisses at midnight and released floating, paper lanterns into the sky festooned with wishes for the new year (Nicodranian and Kryn traditions respectively). But he was not jumping into the Lucidian Ocean in the middle of winter.

Absolutely not.

"It's good luck!" Jester insisted.

"I make my own luck." He replied smugly and took a sip from his cup of steaming rice wine.

"But this is luck you don't have to make."

"At the cost of catching my death of cold? No, thank you."

"CAY-LEB!" She shouted back over her shoulder.

"Ja?" Caleb's voice floated on the sea breeze, breathless.

"Tell your boyfriend, high risk, high reward!"

Essek choked on his wine as Caleb's laughter roared in with waves.

"It's not even that cold." She was leaning over him now, firelight shining in her eyes, dripping fat droplets of icy, salt water onto his new cloak. He tried to lean back away from her, prestidigitating the water away with a noise of annoyance.

"I seem to recall that you didn't think Eiselcross was that cold, and I remember what you were wear--" It was then that he noticed the curious, rising flow of water trailing behind her, blurred into the blue light of the night by her swishing tail until that moment. "Jester, no--"

Splash! The water crashed into him, drenching him and paralyzing him for a moment with cold.

"There!" Jester cackled. "Now, you've got good luck for your travels!"

"Jester!"

"If you want to get me back, you'll have to come into the water after me!" She called in her singsong voice as she half-danced, half-ran back toward the water.

"I will get you back, Jester Lavorre! Just you wait!" He called after her, laughing in spite himself as he prestidigitated himself dry.

#thus began the great donutmancy prank war of 838 PD 😌 #a little ficlet gift for you this Christmas / Hanukkah evening #donutmancy #jesties #jester lavorre #essek thelyss #my writing tag

[asjjohnson]

Ta-da—I've finished the first part of this holiday Danny Phantom ghost story. Which I'd thought of the idea for last year just after Christmas.

---

Phantom stepped into his lair and the glowing green portal vanished behind him.

It had been a good day—tiring, but good. For him, that was.

With a practiced ease, he turned and flopped onto a large melted stump of a stalagmite, as though flopping onto a couch, and put his arms comfortably behind his head.

Valerie may have erected that shield of hers, but he had other methods of getting his fun.

Today he'd blasted an impassable trench all along the circumference of Amity Park. A canyon surrounded by jagged metal.

No one would be able to enter or leave.

It might've been too late to stop Amity Park from having their food and gifts, but their celebrations would be tainted by foreboding. The knowledge of his blockade, of their days of plenty soon transitioning into dwindling supplies and starvation.

A different type of ruin and destruction.

A grin stretched across his face as he imagined it.

But the thought was cut short. An uncomfortable tickle of vapor brushed through his nose and triggered a gasp.

He tensed, and pushed himself up on one elbow, eyes narrowing as he scanned his shadowed surroundings.

His lair was a large cavern, dimly lit by a sourceless glow. The floors were littered with chunks of broken cave formations that he’d left lying after having blasted them apart.

Nothing looked out of place. He saw no movement, and heard only a slow drip of water from the cave ceiling.

No one could enter his lair. He knew this. There were no entrances or exits other than through his own portals.

It must not have been his Ghost Sense after all, but instead a thread of cold air passing by to tickle his nose, or else indigestion.

He shouldn’t have eaten that blob ghost earlier.

He rubbed his nose in annoyance and laid back down.

But he still felt uneasy. A feeling of paranoia, of an imagined something watching.

Simply the idea of someone else being in his personal lair bothered him. It was a place formed from his inner essence. Even he didn’t understand what a cave could mean to him. But, whatever it did mean, it was something deeply personal that he didn’t want to share. A look into his core.

It was a long several minutes before the subject faded from his mind. He began to doze, insubstantial wisps of pleasant dreams pulling him toward sleep and energy recovery. His own laughter. Valerie's face. Jagged metal.

His ear twitched and he started awake before the dreams fully took hold.

There was a noise—very faint, but unnatural to his lair.

It echoed along his walls and ceilings, making it hard to pinpoint the direction.

He stood. And waited. Ectoplasm pumped through his limbs, preparing for a possible confrontation.

The noise grew steadily louder. It was now possible to make out two distinct sounds: the high clinging of chains, and a grating noise of something scrapping against rock.

Then—it was to his left. He spun around.

There, nearly invisible, with glimmering chains draped over his shoulders, was the ghostly form of Vlad Plasmius.

His chest constricted with the shock. "You're gone!" He pushed off of the floor and away from the figure, firing a Ghost Ray straight through its middle. The ray slammed into the far wall. Not even a chain link shifted. An intangiblility that somehow felt unnatural, even for a ghost. He fired again. "You no longer exist!" Another Ghost Ray. "You're a hallucination! You aren't real!"

The figure remained unmoving, hovering with his hands clasped behind his back—visible through his translucent torso. He raised one eyebrow. "Are you quite done, Daniel?"

"What are you?!" Phantom shouted.

"You already know."

It didn't make sense. Plasmius couldn't exist, Phantom had destroyed him a long time ago, the ghost had been completely absorbed.

This figure couldn't be real. It had to be his mind playing tricks on him, or a dream, or a ghost who had followed him through his portal—maybe Amorpho.

But the fear coursing through him said otherwise—said this was the spirit of Plasmius back from oblivion, somehow pulled from his own core. A face he had been certain he would never see again. It couldn't be true. Instinctively, the repercussions of such a thing terrified him. Absolutely and completely.

"You couldn't have at least decorated the place?" the figure asked. "Perhaps some Packers memorabilia? A few pennant banners along the ceiling goes a long way."

Phantom sneered, pushing the fear to the side. "You have no say concerning my lair."

The figure somehow seemed amused by the words.

Phantom glanced at the long chains trailing down to and across the floor. "As though your taste in decoration is any better. What did you do, decide to carry the ruins of your mansion with you?" Broken pieces of gray brick and assorted other objects hung from the chain links like a giant charm bracelet.

The figure looked down at himself. He unclasped his hands and lifted his arms to either side, chains and objects clanking noisily and grinding across the cave floor with the movement.

The figure remained with his arms stretched wide, gazing at Phantom, as though inviting Phantom to examine the chains he wore.

The objects on the chains continued to sway. Broken pieces of gray brick. Books—one with a stylized ghost on the cover, and one with the year 1981 printed across it, but also other books. Cracked picture frames and photos. Quarters—a lot of dangling quarters. Test tubes stained with dried ectoplasm. Small bones, as though from animals. Broken machinery—computer monitors, an incomplete ring of metal that resembled a small Fenton Portal. A red fabric mask. A shredded white t-shirt. A pair of metal gauntlets. And so much more.

"These are the failings I'd gathered in life," Plasmius said. "I carry these burdens with me. My guilt."

Phantom snorted in disbelief. "How is the money a failing?" The coins still looked perfectly usable. He continued to idly run his eyes across the chains. There were also papers and folders—business contracts and deeds. And his eye caught the gleam of a small, familiar ring.

Plasmius's face twisted in hate, his eyes glowing a brighter red.

Phantom unconsciously drifted backward, the fear again coming to the forefront.

Plasmius loudly rattled the chains and screamed, "I wish I had never deceitfully gained one cent! I was a fool! I had traded away everything that mattered!"

The horrible sound of the rattling chains gradually died down and Phantom uncovered his ears, not remembering having covered them.

Plasmius still wore a glare, but he now talked at a normal volume. "You have done much more than I have. Your chains are ten times this long, not counting the ones you have inherited."

For a moment, Phantom imagined he could feel the invisible weight. Imaginary heaviness across his shoulders, and pushing him down toward the floor. Chains from Vlad Masters, Danny Fenton, and from the years of his current existence.

All of the steel beams and other debris surrounding Amity Park, trailing behind him like a king's long coronation robe.

Phantom crossed his arms. "That's ridiculous."

"You say that, but you worry for your fate. Your soul is uneasy. A child realizing there are consequences to his actions, fearing his Father's punishment—"

"I am not a child!" Phantom shouted.

"You will be visited by three spirits—"

"No! You aren't real! None of this is real!"

"Daniel!"

The name was said so firmly, so whiplike, the equivalent of a grounding slap, that Phantom snapped his mouth shut.

"You will be visited by three spirits tonight," Plasmius said. "Your participation is not optional. You will listen to them, go anywhere they want you to go, and observe whatever they want you to observe."

"Do you count as one of the three?" Phantom grumbled.

"You know how the story goes. Three visitors in addition to myself."

"So I'm basically in one of those Scrooge movies."

Plasmius slowly grew more transparent. "You know that isn't the title of the story." His voice grew quieter, fading.

"How would you know whether I do or not," Phantom said to himself. He could never remember the official title.

Plasmius was gone.

Phantom hovered alone in the empty cave chamber.

He whispered, "Bah. Humbug."

#danny phantom #dp #dan phantom #dark danny #vlad plasmius #a christmas carol #I took the idea for Dan's lair here from my Phantom Remnants ficlet. Though it looks slightly different. #I'd thought of his lair being a cave for a fic a few years ago but thought of it being a replica of an existing cave in Remnants. #Merry Christmas #Happy Hanukkah #Or Kwanzaa if you celebrate that #TUE has flying cars but here they either don't fly yet or Phantom doesn't know they do. I hadn't decided. #I do like the idea that Amity Park developed the flying cars specifically because of the debris surrounding the town... #But I also kind of think the townspeople just stay in the shield. For safety reasons. So I'm not sure. #And Phantom in this story isn't noticeably younger than in TUE. So it's not too early on. #(I'd started out specifically having his trench be for blocking delivery trucks. From other towns. Which don't have flying cars. #But then I changed it. And I kind of like the odd detail the change had created.) #...This might look familiar because I'd accidentally posted it before I was finished writing it. #I do not know the names of things—replaced 'streamers' with 'pennant banners'. I mean the string of triangles.

[bi4bihankking]

HankAl Latkes Ficlet

Hank wasn’t really religious, or at least he hadn’t been growing up. Merry had been... as agnostic as you could be with all the gods visibly running around, and the system hadn’t been particularly interested in forcing him toward Christianity. That had changed recently, though, Al had asked him to convert to Judaism for him, and even though Hank was still in the asking the Rabbi stage for that, he wanted to try.

As October had turned into November, and for some reason, people started celebrating Christmas already, putting up the lights almost two months in advance, Al had looked up at them almost sadly. It was a little odd, and at first, Hank had assumed that it was just that the holiday was so unavoidable, but as time passed, Al just seemed to get more and more forlorn.  

Hank knew that he should ask, but he wondered if his asking would even be appreciated. Maybe he was still too much of an outsider to understand what was going on. He didn’t want to overstep. Of course, as his anxiety overtook him, he ended up losing his opportunity entirely as Rick and Hec took over.  

In the middle of November, Rick had sighed, leaning over Al at the meeting table, and commented: “Alright man, you’re making the vibes in this place absolutely rancid,” Hank would definitely not have chosen those words precisely, but Hank had lost his chance, “what’s up with you?”  

“Rick...” Hank decided to try to do damage control instead.  

“It’s the first year I’m not gonna get to have my mom’s latkes at Hanukkah.”  

Hank sucked in his cheeks at that, trying to keep his face completely stony. He knew how much Al liked food. It was important to him, and it was cute. Hank was not going to laugh or do anything that might make Al feel bad about his preferences. Rick and Hector had no such compunctions.  

“Seriously, food’s what’s got you looking like that?”  

“Heh, that’s our Albert I guess.”  

“Hahahahahahaha.”  

“Aw, c’mon guys, it’s not that funny.”  

-----------------------------------------

Al liked food; Hank knew that already and had already established that he knew that already, but he also knew that Al was kind of a momma’s boy, and he couldn’t just go out and buy a recipe book and follow that. If he did that, he knew that Al would just be comparing it to his mom’s the entire time, and Hank just wouldn’t be able to measure up.  

Option 2 was to call up Mrs. Rothstein and ask her to make some herself and send them up so that they could fry them together. Somehow, he got the feeling that they’d just end up ruining them, though, and then Al would just be even more disappointed.  

He had to go with Option Number 3. He glanced upstairs, where he could hear Al still having a shower, and dragged the man’s laptop toward him. Just a few clicks later, he had a zoom call going.  

-----------------------------------------  

The pile of latkes on the kitchen counter was growing by the minute, although it had almost reached the ceiling, and he should probably start on pile number two soon. He should probably have called Al in and asked him to do a taste test for him, but part of Hank wanted them to be perfect before he even tried that.  

“I’m sure that Albert wouldn’t mind,” Al’s mom told him, “he’d appreciate the effort either way, oh hello, honey.”  

Hank froze. He had been distracted, so he hadn’t been keeping track of where in the house Al’s brainwaves were coming from, but he was beginning to suspect that he might be right behind him.  

“What are you two doing?” Al asked, his voice slow before his eyes clearly drifted over to the massive pile of food. “Is that for me?”  

He was next to Hank in seconds. Before the telepath had even the slightest opportunity to stop him, he was already shoveling the food into his mouth.  

“Ah-!” Hank panicked a little, he wanted to reach out to stop Al, but found himself just waving his hands. He was too flustered to do anything useful, “That’s not-”  

The entire pile of latkes was already gone.  

Al blinked up at him, his cheeks bulging. He looked very guilty, although he hadn’t actually done anything wrong.  

Hank let out a breath, one that he hadn’t known he was holding in. “Not enough salt?” He asked.  

The larger man swallowed. “Maybe a little too much egg, the ones in our cupboard are extra large, by the way.”  

Ah fuck. Hank turned toward the laptop. “I’m just gonna run across the street for a moment.” He told Mrs. Rothstein.  

Al’s voice followed him down the hall. “I can taste test, right? You’re gonna let me taste test?!” 

#henry king jr #brainwave jr #al rothstein #atom smasher #hankal #hello hankal nation i have produced a last day of hanukkah ficlet

[dadbabyyy]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff/Vision (Marvel) Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers, Vision (Marvel), Brunnhilde | Valkyrie (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Yelena Belova, Kate Bishop, Sam Wilson (Marvel) Additional Tags: Avengers Tower, Domestic Avengers, Fluff, Hanukkah, Hanukkah Fluff, Everyone Is Alive, Food, Family Fluff Words: 1287

Summary:

It was day two of Chanukah and the Jewish members of the Avengers agreed to work hard at providing a little culture to the goyim.

#the avengers #mcu #hanukkah #chanukah #jewish bucky barnes #jewish wanda maximoff #jewish peter parker #jewish kate bishop #jewish!bucky #val says stuff #ficlet

[this-is-z-art-blog]

Introducing a new Danny Phantom Hanukkah event, Eight Ecto Nights!

What: An eight day Danny Phantom prompt calendar celebrating Hanukkah! See here for what's Hanukkah?

When: Thursday December 7- Thursday December 14, the span of Hanukkah*

Where: Use the tag #eight ecto nights 2023, posts will be reblogged to this blog

Rules: • You do not have to be Jewish to participate, all are encouraged! If you're concerned about doing something respectfully, feel free to reach out to me, I'm always available to answer questions. • Headcanons welcome! This event is not restricted to the show's few canonically Jewish characters. However, there is no erasing the Jewishness of those characters ○ ie you can make a headcanon/au where Paulina's family is Jewish, but not one where Sam's isn't ○ The canonically Jewish characters are the Mansons: Sam, her parents Jeremy and Pamela, her grandmother Ida, and her presumably passed great-grandfather Izzy • Angst and crossovers both allowed, but must be tagged properly. If you have questions about tagging guidelines, please reach out ○ If you are not Jewish, I would advise caution when considering telling a story about the experience or effects of antisemitism

You do not have to do all eight, do whichever and however many speak to you! However, if you do complete all eight nights, you will receive a small prize of art or a short ficlet!

The Prompts: 1) Fire - Thursday Dec 7 2) Laughter - Friday Dec 8 3) Fried Foods - Saturday Dec 9 4) Giving - Sunday Dec 10 5) Community - Monday Dec 11 6) Games - Tuesday Dec 12 7) Identity - Wednesday Dec 13 8) Light - Thursday Dec 14

With special thanks to @jus-a-lil-mouse and @glow-and-vamp for helping me put this event together, y'all are the real mvps

*technically it's nightfall of the 7th through nightfall of the 15th, but these are the days we light hanukkias at night, so for simplicity, the 7th-14th is when we're holding this event!

#danny phantom #dp events #z.txt #sam manson #ida manson #pamela manson #jeremy manson #eight ecto nights 2023 #eight ecto nights

[babsvibes]

Bob’s Burgers fic recs: Winter Edition!

By no means is this a complete list, so if you have recommendations for fics about the holidays or general snowy stories then feel free to throw them in the replies!

12 Days of Bob-Mas: Collection of roudise, boblin, zekina and family fluff oneshots by @theangrypomeranian and @littleredruns

Welcome, all, to the 12 days of Bob-mas! For 12 days until Christmas, you can enjoy a healthy dose of romance and/or Belcher family bonding!

Forget-Me-Nots and Marigolds: Collection of tinimmy oneshots by @eroticfriendfictions

Chapter 6: Snowball. A collection of one shots centered around older Tina and Jimmy Jr. after they start living together.

Hung by the Kimchi with Care: Zekina, Gene & drag queens, louigan, and boblin oneshot by @babsvibes

How the future Belcher kids spend their Christmas Eve, each perfect in their own way. Prompts: sick fic, Christmas in drag, and the perfect present.

it always leads you to my hometown: Tinimmy oneshot rated M by @jimmypesto

Over the years, Tina and Jimmy Jr. reunite when he returns to Seymour's Bay for Christmas.

Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Graphing All the Way: Sustina two shot by @sailoreuterpe

Tina and Susmita have been dating for a while and Tina feels ready to give a special gift. Will she have the courage?

K5 Noshing - Linda Belcher: Linda-centric Hanukkah drabble by aimmyarrowshigh

Noshing. You know that bakery downtown that has a photo of Linda labeled, 'DO NOT FEED'?

leave the Christmas lights up ‘til january: Boblin, zekina, Gene/Alex, platonic Susmita and Tina, and family fluff oneshots by @jimmypesto

A collection of Christmassy ficlets about The Belchers and company.

Shiver: Louigan oneshot by @percysburgers

"How many times did I tell you to get your engine checked?” aged up louigan stranded in the middle of nowhere au

Snowed In: Zekina oneshot by eightlightminutes

A snow storm leaves Tina home alone with her least-favorite person. Can Tina put aside the rage she feels for Zeke in the spirit of Christmas?

The Santa Trap: Belcher family fluff oneshot by crumblingwalls

BURGER OF THE DAY Happy Hollandaise with Canadian bacon

The Ugly Christmas Sweater Swap: Boblin and family fluff oneshot by wonderminterplus

The Belchers have a ugly Christmas sweater swap.

#babsbles #bob’s burgers #bobs burgers #fic rec #fic rec list #holiday centric fic #I know not everyone celebrates so there are some snow centric fics in there too! #I wish I could have found more though

[phoebe-delia]

Eight Drarry Nights 2023

It's TIIIMEEEEEE!!!!

The wonderful @xx-thedarklord-xx tagged me in this post of Taylor Swift song lyric prompts, and it got me thinking. It's getting close to Hanukkah, which means I start planning something for my Eight Drarry Nights! (You can read 2021 and 2022!)

SO here's the plan:

Send me the prompt of your choice to my ask box (not DMs, please) and I will write you a Drarry drabble based on it

If you choose to prompt a Taylor Swift song, the only songs I will not write from are: "Marjorie," "Ronan," "Forever Winter," "Bigger Than The Whole Sky," and "Soon You'll Get Better." Lyrics from any other released song in her discography are fair game, including the ones I've already done for the Drarry as Taylor Swift songs series or otherwise.

Of course I will accept songs/lyrics by other artists. Or non-song prompts. I'm including the Taylor lyric list for inspiration for those who want it.

I will accept prompts from the first 8 people who submit them. Barring unforeseen circumstances, I will post one ficlet on each night of Hanukkah (Dec. 7 to 15).

If you submit a prompt and I don't write it, there is a chance I will still do it! It would just be later/outside of the holiday. (Though, full disclosure, I still have prompts from last year in my ask box that I haven't fulfilled because I haven't had the inspiration for them. I do still hope to write them one day. Just keep that in mind!)

Just a note: I do not write explicit smut. (I'm just not good at it lol. So if you send me something from "So It Goes" or "Dress" expecting full-on smut, just know now that won't happen). I am usually comfortable writing up to an M rating; if this is a factor for you, here's a link to my works to see what I personally consider to be rated M. If you have a specific rating request, please indicate that in your prompt. Otherwise, I will go wherever my muse leads.

Also: please let me know of any squicks, triggers, or other things to avoid. Obviously, you do not have to include these in the ask. If you have certain limits that you don't want others to see, I request that you submit just the prompt itself through my ask box and then DM me if you wish to convey them separately.

As always, the fics might still be holiday/Hanukkah-themed—or they may not. The idea behind this is to make little Hanukkah gifts for people; not to necessarily have a religious or holiday theme.

Happy prompting, and let me know if you have any questions!

#eight drarry nights 2023 #ITS TIMEEEEE

[tiltedsyllogism]

Sherlock holiday fics

I've been seeing a lot of posts asking for (and offering) recs for winter holiday-themed Sherlock fics. It's been years since I've written any, but they are still there! So I thought I'd throw them into the ring in case anyone's interested.

Cold Making Warmth is a cozy-at-home-in-221b type story about former clients who send Christmas cards every year. Post-Reichenbach, but not angsty. Shippy gen. 2.5k.

Foiled is a silly little story about John trying (and failing) to pick up a woman during the holiday season. 660 words.

God Rest Ye Sleuthy, Gentlemen is a ficlet advent calendar I did in 2014, a collection of prompted drabbles and 221bs. 3,347 words.

A Study in Potato Pancakes is a three-flat problem (that is: a 221a, a 221b, and a 221c) in which Sherlock becomes interested in latkes. It was rather dazzlingly remixed by @hiddenlacuna into A Study in Sweetness. both of these are 663 words.

A Festival of Fic-lights is a series of prompted 221bs that I wrote, advent-calendar style, for each of the 8 nights of Hanukkah. 2,210 words (since the last of them is a 3-flat.)

#bbc sherlock #my fic #sherlock fic #holiday fic #christmas fic #hanukkah fic

[love-kurdt]

Remember This Moment

a very sweet, kinda bittersweet chrismukkah ficlet featuring mike wheeler, will wheeler, and their two year old daughter, joan

word count 1.5k

ficlet ao3 link

Shreds of russett potato fell into a bowl from the grater that rested across it. The potato in question was being vigorously pushed and pulled back and forth across the surface of the grater in a strong grip, belonging to one William Wheeler. But the hand was quickly losing momentum as the potato got smaller and smaller, losing its initial mass. Seconds later, he lost his grip on the potato, and it fell to the floor with a thud. He groaned in frustration as he picked up the scrap and threw it out while behind him, a pair of little hands clapped with joy. Well, at least one person in the house was having a good time.

His daughter, Joan, sat in her high chair with her giant crayola markers and a few sheets of printer paper, but was obviously more entertained by her father’s failure. He turned around after grabbing a paper towel, wiping the starchy potato juice off his forearms and sauntering over to where Joan sat. She giggled and reached up to him with grabby hands, and he picked her up, settling her on his right hip. He carried her over to the counter, showing her his sad attempt at latkes he was working on.

When he and Mike first started looking into adoption, the question was constantly brought up as to which religion their future child would be raised in, if any at all. Both of them agreed, with Will being Jewish and Mike growing up Catholic, that they wouldn’t limit or compromise the traditions of the other. Ever since they got together (and even before that, honestly), they spent their Decembers celebrating both Hanukkah and Christmas. And this was Will’s first time trying to make his mom’s famous latke recipe.

“See, Jetti Spaghetti,” he began, calling her by the ridiculous nickname that he’d made up– and that his husband objected to every time it was uttered in his presence– inspired by the one and only Joan Jett. “These are potatoes. Can you say, ‘potato’?”

“Po-yay-yo,” Joan repeated in toddler speak, and Will laughed heartily as he picked one up and let her hold it with a glimmer of fascination in her brown eyes.

“Not quite, but you’re getting there. Kind of.”

“She’s barely two, give her a break,” his husband laughed from where he stood in the doorway. Will had no idea how long Mike had been standing there, but the dopey grin on his face led Will to believe that he’d seen the whole thing. Will set Joan back in her high chair as Mike crossed the kitchen to where he stood. He was still wearing his coat; he’d just come back from work. He leaned down, pressing a firm yet loving kiss to Will’s lips, brushing their noses together. “Hey, handsome.”

“Hey, yourself,” Will replied with a light smile. “You’re home early.”

“Well, the blizzard was getting bad, and I wasn’t about to get stuck in three feet of snow,” Mike sighed, shucking his coat off and tossing it onto one of the chairs next to him. He spun around then, sneaking up on Joan, who was fixated on her latest Marker Masterpiece™.

“Hey, Bug!” he exclaimed, and scooped the little girl up in his arms, kissing her face as she screeched, “Papa!” high pitched and happily. Mike missed his baby girl like crazy. Getting such a significant raise at his publishing job had been both a blessing and a curse; they were financially stable, but he felt like he was missing out. When he first became a parent, he’d been the one spending time at home, playing with her, preparing her meals and singing her custom-written lullabies. It all felt like so long ago. But Will’s job as an art teacher provided a more flexible, less time-consuming schedule that allowed him to spend more time with Joan.

“I’m so jealous you got a snow day, I missed this little munchkin,” he cooed, but his eyebrows suddenly furrowed in pain as Joan pulled roughly on his long hair, cackling as she did so. “God, this kid is really out to get me,” Mike feigned complaint and let Joan down, and the two watched their daughter toddle through the kitchen and out into her play corner in the living room.

Will turned back to the task at hand, grabbing a new potato and the peeler off of the counter. He felt Mike’s arms wrap around his middle and his chin resting on Will’s head. How was Will supposed to get anything done with a giraffe-koala hybrid clinging onto his back?

“Damn, baby, these look good already,” Mike hummed, and Will scoffed.

“They’re literally just shredded potatoes.”

“I stand by my statement,” Mike said, and his arms got tighter around Will’s torso, as if to hold him there until he believed what Mike was saying. 

“They could turn out disgusting,” Will frowned, giving up for a moment and turning in Mike’s grip to face him, leaning against the counter.

Mike ran a hand up Will’s arm, over his shoulder, and up his neck before brushing some hair out of his face. “Will, you’re amazing at everything you do, don’t doubt yourself.” Will looked up at him then with teary eyes. 

“I just wanted Hanukkah to feel somewhat normal this time, you know?”

Joyce’s absence weighed heavily on everyone’s minds last year; she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and was gone within the year. She was only 57 years old. She never got to meet Joan, and that kept Will and Mike up at night. They missed her more than anything.

“I know,” Mike held back his own tears as he comforted Will, pulling him into his chest. “And you’re gonna make her proud. She was always proud of you, no matter what.”

“Thank you,” Will muttered into Mike’s (Will’s) worn flannel. They stood there for a moment, holding one another close. Eventually, Mike pulled back and held Will’s face between his large hands, making Will feel warm, safe, and so at home.

“You got a sec? I have something I want to give you.”

Will quirked an eyebrow, but nodded anyway. “Sure.”

Mike took off then, coming back to the kitchen a minute later with a small package in his hand. He had wrapped it in newspaper, so tightly that Will could observe its disc-like shape. He held it out to Will, who took it in his hands, looking confused.

“Mike… what is this?” he asked, and Mike shook his head.

“Just open it.”

And Will did. He ripped the newspaper to reveal an ornament. Like, an ornament that belonged on a Christmas tree. Except it was a small, circular frame made of clay, with a little menorah painted on one side, and a Christmas tree on the other. The lower part of the frame had the words Daddy, Papa, and Joan’s First Chrismukkah on the surface. And in the center of the frame was a photo of Mike and Will one year ago, huddled together on their couch with little Joan seated in between them. It was their first photo together as a family.

“Oh my…” Will put a hand to his mouth to muffle a sob, “Oh my god.”

“I know, it’s cheesy as fuck, but I just thought this would be a good time to remind you of what the holidays are all about– family,” Mike said, and Will just stood there, staring at the ornament in his hands, thinking about how lucky he was to have married such a sweet and thoughtful human being. “And that begins with traditions… like your mom’s latkes. She gave you that recipe because she knew you’d want something to remind you of her. And, like, maybe we could pass the recipe to Joan one day. I’m sorry, I’m kind of rambling, but I just want you to know that–”

Will cut off his husband’s next few words with a tearful, passionate kiss. “Michael. I love it. I love you. You’re amazing. Thank you.”

“I love you, too,” Mike kissed Will’s forehead.

“Daddy, why cwy?” they heard their daughter’s quiet voice ask from below, and Mike knelt down to her level.

“Daddy’s a little sad, Bug. He misses Grandma,” Mike explained, and Joan turned her head up to Will, lifting her small arms to hug his leg. 

“I sowwy, Daddy. Gwannma-zin heaven.” Grandma’s in heaven. Will was going to melt. She was such a little empath. They’d taught her well.

“Thank you, sweetie,” Will smiled at Joan, then back up at Mike. “I was thinking you could ‘help’ me make these potato latkes. You can help me mix. How’s that sound, Jetti-Spaghetti?”

Mike playfully rolled his eyes at the nickname that had, surprisingly, been growing on him a little bit. Joan squealed with glee as her Papa lifted Joan onto the counter and handed her a wooden spoon to play with while her Daddy handled the rest of the potatoes.

And Will… let’s just say that Will Wheeler made some damn good latkes.

#byler #byler fanfic #byler fic #byler tumblr #will byers #mike wheeler #stranger things #stranger things fic #alternate universe

[gerec]

HOLIDAY FIC RECS - UPDATED!!!

Yay it's holiday time again and I'm a-rolling in with an updated rec list for my fandom lovelies :D :D :D

Walking in a Winter Wonderland by TurtleTotem

Charles hasn’t seen Erik since their devastating breakup ten years ago. He’s certainly the last person he expects to run into at a Christmas lights display.

Terrible Hanukkah Sweaters and Other Life Challenges by professor (series)

“Why am I here again?” Erik groans.

“I need you to lift things and glower at people over my shoulder when I tell people that it’s not ‘politically correct’ or a ‘war on Christmas’ to have a non-denominational winter holiday festival,” says Theresa Pryde.

Well, at least those are two things he’s good at.

soul of my soul by ikeracity

You can imprint on your soulmate anywhere — school, work, on the street, in a restaurant, on the subway. Charles and Erik imprint on each other just in time for the holidays.

The Holiday Lights Battle by so_shhy

Some people take their Christmas lights a little too seriously. Erik is one of those people. So is his new neighbour, Sebastian Shaw.

Winter Song by ikeracity

They manage to make time to be together on New Year’s Eve 1999 into 2000.

table for three by pocky_slash

Erik should have known to call ahead to the Chinese restaurant–it’s Christmas Eve and he lives in a predominantly Jewish neighborhood, after all. But before he can go home to mourn the loss of another one of his mother’s yearly traditions, he’s accosted by a teenage girl with a strange proposition–that he should stay and have dinner with her and her mother, instead.

December, Take Two by mabyn

Charles has no problem being in the same room as his ex at Emma’s holiday party. They’re adults, after all.

Mistletoe, Latkes, and Long-term Revenge Strategies by pocky_slash

Charles knows that Erik hates working at a department store in the best of times. Being Jewish in a department store during the holiday season is far from the best of times. He does what he can to help.

In the Bleak Midwinter by keire_ke

It is not easy to find out, well into the second decade of the twenty-first century, that your mother arranged a marriage for you. It is even less easy to convince her that you have no interest in the very fertile Magda, she of the wide hips and lustrous auburn hair. Fortunately, with a good friend at his side over the holiday weekend, Erik is sure he will prevail.

All We Are We Are by kianspo

Charles's boyfriend breaks up with him days before the holidays. Not willing to ruin anyone else's festive mood, Charles hides this fact from his sister and his friends, and retreats into the family mansion, letting the world move on without him. He's flirting with depression when a one-time ex and a long-term friend surprises him. Long-kept secrets are revealed, and it turns out, Charles hasn't been paying attention to the right things.

Where The Heart Is by professor

It's Christmas, and Charles is sick, and alone. Until he's not.

The Haunting of Erik Lehnsherr: A Christmas Carol by TurtleTotem

Erik's business partner, Emma Frost, died seven years ago. This Christmas Eve, her ghost returns, dragging the chains of eternal torment, to say he can avoid her fate only through the visitation of three spirits, who will show him the mistakes of his past.

festival of lights by pocky_slash

A series of ficlets featuring Erik celebrating Hanukkah in various verses.

Watching the Stars Slide Down by groovyphilia

Seventeen-year-old Charles Xavier is ridiculously wealthy, and is used to being paraded around for show at his mother’s high-society Christmas parties. He’s always been rather sporting about it, and dutifully rubs shoulders with the elite every year in the glitz of the mansion ballroom.

This year, he meets a man by the name of Erik Lehnsherr.

New Way Home by luninosity

Christmas at the mansion (written November 2011). All the festive holiday fluffiness in the world; protective Erik; tiny bit of emotional h/c near the end; realizations of love.

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And of course these classics by Yahtzee (see linked post):

Somewhere I’m Going & Have Never Been Before

Made To Be Broken

Xmas in Connecticut

Red, Gold, and Green 

#gerec rambles #cherik #xmfc #holiday favorites #holiday fic rec #gerec's fic rec #fic rec #holiday 2022

[winterspiderpurrs]

I just want a cute Lil story ficlet what have you of Peter shyly inviting Bucky over to his tiny Lil efficiency studio in Queens for Hanukkah.

Honestly it could be as AU as it can goes. Non powers. Power. Mafia.

Like imagine lowly coffee shop worker Peter not knowing his favorite client is in the mob(boss? Lacky?) But knows he is gonna be alone on Hanukkah and invites him over to is tiny tiny humble place.

I wants it.

I WANTS IT

#writing prompt #peter parker #winterspider #bucky barnes #peter parker x bucky barnes #winterspiderpurrs #jewish!bucky #jewish!bucky barnes #mob bucky barnes #mafia bucky barnes