#good hanukkah gifts

[kronchocolate]

Good Hanukkah Gifts: Thoughtful Ideas to Celebrate the Festival of Lights

Hanukkah, also known as the Festival of Lights, is an eight-day Jewish holiday that commemorates the miracle of the oil that burned for eight days in the Holy Temple of Jerusalem. It’s a time of joy, reflection, and togetherness, marked by lighting the menorah, reciting prayers, playing dreidel, and enjoying festive foods like latkes and sufganiyot (jelly doughnuts). Exchanging good Hanukkah gifts has also become a cherished tradition, making the holiday even more special for families and friends.

If you're looking for thoughtful and meaningful Hanukkah gift ideas, you've come to the right place. This article will guide you through a variety of gift options that cater to different tastes, budgets, and preferences. Whether you’re shopping for family members, friends, children, or hosts, these good Hanukkah gifts will help make this holiday memorable and joyous.

Why Are Gifts Given During Hanukkah?

Although gift-giving was not originally part of Hanukkah, the tradition has evolved, especially in Western cultures where Hanukkah often overlaps with Christmas. Historically, children were given "gelt," or small amounts of money, as a reward for learning and for practicing the holiday's customs. Over time, this evolved into the exchange of presents, making gift-giving an enjoyable way to express love and appreciation during the holiday.

Choosing good Hanukkah gifts doesn’t have to be complicated. It’s about finding thoughtful presents that reflect the values of the holiday—family, tradition, light, and joy.

Traditional Hanukkah Gift Ideas

For those who want to honor the roots of the holiday, traditional gifts are always a thoughtful choice. These gifts carry cultural or religious significance, making them a meaningful addition to the celebration.

1. Menorah

The menorah is the central symbol of Hanukkah, representing the miracle of the oil that lasted eight days. Gifting a beautifully crafted menorah is a thoughtful way to honor this tradition, and it’s a gift that can be used year after year.

Gift Suggestions:

Classic Silver Menorah: Elegant and timeless, this makes a beautiful centerpiece for any Hanukkah celebration.

Modern Menorah Designs: Choose one made from glass, ceramic, or wood for a contemporary twist.

Children’s Menorah: A colorful, easy-to-use menorah designed for kids can help them participate in the nightly candle lighting.

2. Hanukkah Candles

Candles are an essential part of the Hanukkah ritual, used to light the menorah each night. High-quality, hand-dipped candles make for a practical and thoughtful gift, adding beauty to the lighting ceremony.

Gift Suggestions:

Beeswax Candles: Eco-friendly and long-lasting, beeswax candles burn cleanly and emit a pleasant aroma.

Colorful Hanukkah Candles: Brighten up the menorah with vibrant, hand-dipped candles in festive colors.

Scented Candles: Choose candles with gentle fragrances like vanilla or cinnamon to create a cozy atmosphere.

3. Dreidel and Gelt

The dreidel game is a beloved Hanukkah tradition, especially for children. Gifting a decorative dreidel along with some chocolate gelt (coins) can be a fun way to celebrate the holiday.

Gift Suggestions:

Handcrafted Dreidels: Choose a beautifully designed dreidel made from glass, wood, or ceramic.

Gourmet Chocolate Gelt: High-quality chocolate coins wrapped in gold or silver foil make for a delicious treat.

Personalized Dreidels: Add the recipient's name or initials for a unique, personal touch.

Good Hanukkah Gifts for Family Members

When choosing Hanukkah gifts for family members, think about items that reflect their interests and passions. Here are some ideas that make thoughtful and meaningful presents:

1. Jewish-Themed Cookbooks

Food plays a central role in Hanukkah celebrations, and gifting a Jewish cookbook filled with traditional and modern recipes can inspire culinary creativity. This is a wonderful gift for anyone who enjoys cooking or wants to learn more about Jewish cuisine.

Gift Suggestions:

“The Jewish Cookbook” by Leah Koenig: A comprehensive guide with over 400 recipes that celebrate Jewish cooking.

“Zahav: A World of Israeli Cooking” by Michael Solomonov: Perfect for those interested in Israeli cuisine, featuring modern takes on traditional dishes.

“Modern Jewish Baker” by Shannon Sarna: For baking enthusiasts, this cookbook offers delicious recipes for challah, bagels, and more.

2. Customized Hanukkah Gifts

Adding a personal touch to a gift can make it even more special. Consider customized gifts that incorporate the recipient's name, initials, or a meaningful message.

Gift Suggestions:

Custom Jewelry: A necklace, bracelet, or ring with the recipient’s name in Hebrew is a beautiful and thoughtful gift.

Personalized Menorah: Engrave a menorah with the family name or a special phrase to create a cherished keepsake.

Monogrammed Kitchenware: Gifts like engraved cutting boards, personalized aprons, or customized dish towels are both practical and meaningful.

3. Jewish Art and Home Decor

Jewish-themed art and home decor are thoughtful gifts that can be displayed year-round, adding a touch of tradition and elegance to any home.

Gift Suggestions:

Framed Hebrew Calligraphy: A beautifully framed piece featuring Hebrew blessings or sayings.

Chanukah Wall Hanging: A festive wall hanging with the phrase “Happy Chanukah” or “Shalom.”

Star of David Candles: Decorative candles in the shape of the Star of David or menorah.

Good Hanukkah Gifts for Children

Children are often the most excited about Hanukkah, and choosing fun and engaging gifts can make the holiday even more memorable for them. Here are some gift ideas that will keep kids entertained while teaching them about Hanukkah traditions:

1. Hanukkah Story Books

Books are a great way to introduce children to the story and traditions of Hanukkah in an engaging and educational way. Look for books with beautiful illustrations and age-appropriate stories.

Gift Suggestions:

“The Story of Hanukkah” by David A. Adler: A beautifully illustrated book that tells the story of Hanukkah in an easy-to-understand way.

“Hershel and the Hanukkah Goblins” by Eric Kimmel: A fun, classic tale that has become a favorite for many families.

“Latke, the Lucky Dog” by Ellen Fischer: A charming story about a dog celebrating Hanukkah with his new family.

2. Arts and Crafts Kits

Arts and crafts kits provide a hands-on way for children to learn about Hanukkah while expressing their creativity. Choose kits that allow them to create their own menorahs, dreidels, or other holiday-themed items.

Gift Suggestions:

DIY Menorah Kit: A kit that allows kids to paint and assemble their own menorah.

Hanukkah Candle-Making Kit: Let kids create their own colorful candles for lighting the menorah.

Dreidel Decorating Kit: A fun way for children to personalize their dreidels with paint, markers, or stickers.

3. Interactive Hanukkah Games

Interactive games are a fantastic way to bring the family together and help kids learn about the holiday in a fun and engaging way.

Gift Suggestions:

Hanukkah Bingo: A bingo game with dreidels, menorahs, and gelt as the bingo markers.

Hanukkah Trivia Game: Test knowledge of Hanukkah traditions, history, and customs with a fun trivia game.

Holiday Puzzle Set: Puzzles featuring different Hanukkah symbols and scenes are great for kids of all ages.

Good Hanukkah Gifts for Hosts

If you’re attending a Hanukkah celebration, bringing a thoughtful gift for the host is a kind gesture. Here are some ideas that are perfect for expressing your gratitude:

1. Kosher Wine or Sparkling Cider

A bottle of kosher wine or sparkling cider is a classic gift that the host can enjoy during the holiday meal. Pair it with a decorative wine bag or elegant wine glasses for an extra special touch.

2. Gourmet Gift Basket

A gift basket filled with gourmet treats is always appreciated. Include items like kosher chocolates, nuts, dried fruits, or a selection of teas and coffees.

3. Hanukkah-Themed Home Decor

Decorative items like a menorah-shaped serving platter, Hanukkah-themed candles, or a festive tablecloth make lovely gifts that the host can use during the celebration.

Conclusion

Choosing good Hanukkah gifts is a wonderful way to show love, appreciation, and thoughtfulness during the Festival of Lights. Whether you opt for traditional gifts like a menorah, modern options like cookbooks and games, or personalized keepsakes, the key is to select items that reflect the spirit and values of the holiday.

By considering the recipient’s interests, tastes, and connection to Hanukkah, you can find gifts that will be cherished long after the candles have burned out. As you celebrate the Festival of Lights, let your gifts be a reminder of the warmth, joy, and traditions that make this holiday truly special.

[tswwwit]

familiar au where literally everything is the same except dipper has a spray bottle and sprays bill when he’s being a bitch

[supercantaloupe]

earlier tonight my roommates were talking about the halloween party they're planning in a couple weeks (i will be out of town) and since the convo went towards "party supplies needing to be purchased" one of my roommates mentioned that she had the present she's planning on getting me for my birthday in her digital shopping cart already and then made a little mischievous face at me. and like it's sweet i suppose but my idea of "celebrating" my birthday is basically acting like it doesn't exist cause i'm kind of...uncomfortable with receiving Direct Praise And Attention especially for things i don't think are worth it (for example, Existing Another Year). at any rate my idea of the perfect gift this year would be Not being stuck in rehearsal until 10pm that night but that will certainly not be the case so whatever

[footnoteinhistory]

Happy Hanukkah friends :) 💛💙

[doodleddaisies]

"I guess that I just really want to make this year special for EJ because it’s the first time he’s going to be without his parents. He just deserves something good after everything he’s been through this year, ya know?” Ashlyn said.

Ricky did know. Next to Ashlyn and her family, Ricky was probably the closest person to EJ’s entire situation. He had been there to see EJ through all of his ups and downs. He found himself nodding along to Ashlyn as she spoke.

“Of course. I’m assuming you have something specific in mind.”

“Ricky, I believe we have just formed an alliance.” Ashlyn wrapped her arm around Ricky’s shoulders and pulled him into walking with her down the hallway as they began plotting how to give EJ the best Christmas he’s ever had.

Or: EJ is determined to have a good Christmas, even if it's the first one since he left his parent's house. Ashlyn and Ricky are determined to make sure that EJ has the best Christmas/Hanukkah/holiday season possible.

(Aka: EJ spends the entire winter break surrounded by the people who love him the most like he deserves)

[gay-otlc]

I almost got outed by a box of chocolate

[adraughtofamortentia]

.

[complete-in-ix]

Mirage of a Desert Rose (Untouchable, but Smells So Sweet

Rated: M Warning(s): Suggestive

Description: Lee Eunsang has never had the best luck with love. His heart ached all through Produce X 101, and now a certain Myung Eunho is leading him through a desert of confusion and longing only to vanish as soon as Eunsang wants to talk about his feelings. That is, until the night Eunho decides to approach him first…

(Read on Ao3)

Eunsang leans against the kitchen counter, softly sipping at his tea. The dorm is quiet, the other members deciding to stay at their own dorns tonight and Sion having gone to bed nearly an hour ago. Eunsang is content to bask in the silence—a welcome change from the bustle and noise of the day. As much as he loves being an idol, the job still tires him out even on his best days sometimes. Then again, hearing Youniz’s cheers and seeing how his members light up upon hearing them… Just the memory of their smiles is enough to make him almost completely forget his exhaustion. One smile in particular stands out in his memory, for no particular reason other than his fondness towards the person it belongs to.

He hasn’t had much time to talk to Eunho about their relationship. They—and the rest of the group, really—both know that what they have crosses well over the line of mere co-leaders and close friends. Eunsang tries to tell himself that he doesn’t mind the ambiguity and would prefer things to just progress naturally without any big announcements, but he knows in his heart that it isn’t true. Perhaps Eunho would, but if the way his eyes drop to Eunsang’s lips when he thinks he won’t notice and the way his hands always linger whenever they make any sort of contact, that’s doubtful. Those actions themselves don’t offer much in terms of clarity, but surely if Eunho wanted to let their relationship go wherever they take it, he would have made a move and taken it somewhere by now, right?

Eunsang sighs into his now-empty cup. He shouldn’t try to get his hopes too high again. His luck with love has never been the best, with him losing to someone else not once, but twice; once during Produce X 101, and another in the short-lived flight that was X1. He’s mostly over them both by now, but some memories still make his heart ache.

His phone lights up with a text right as he’s putting his cup away in the sink. Upon checking who it is, all his previous melancholy melts away.

Little Demon hyung Are you still awake? I have something for you

Eunsang’s heart stutters once the last sentence processes in his mind. What could that mean, exactly? He had just been telling himself not to hope for too much, yet he still finds those familiar wings starting to flutter in his chest again. He types out a reply and sends it before he can start to overthink.

Eunsang Yes, I’m still up! What is it?

Before his message has even been read, Eunsang is already rushing to his room to get changed into something a little more presentable. He and Eunho have already caught little glimpses of each other in their less-than-flattering moments without any issue, but there’s something different about tonight that makes him really want to make an impression. He’s gone through two different pairs of pants, three different jackets, and is in the middle of deciding whether or not to put on his favourite rose perfume when Eunho’s reply comes in.

Little Demon hyung It’s a surprise. Meet me behind the dorms ;)

Eunsang has to bite his lip to contain his excitement. Eunho has always been the more direct one between them, but this is on a whole other level! It’s settled, he has to put the perfume on now. 

After five minutes of checking and rechecking himself in the mirror and sneaking down the long way to make sure he isn’t seen, Eunsang opens the back door of the dorm building to see Eunho leaning against the wall. It seems like he and Eunsang had the same idea to get dolled up a little. From here, Eunsang can see a silver chain in Eunho’s hair glinting in the light of the streetlamp shining down into the alley. He remembers telling Eunho that he liked it while on set for Bad Cupid, and then being confused at the scheming smile Eunho had given him in return. Now he understands. Little devil. Then again, Eunsang isn't innocent of stealing from sets either. This jacket is from his Kcon Mirage stage. 

"Good evening, handsome. Come here often?" Eunho asks upon catching his eye. 

"It's almost one in the morning," Eunsang replies, determined not to let his racing heart show. Eunho is always this flirty behind closed doors, especially towards Eunsang. Still, he can't help but be wary. Does he really mean it or is this just his way of bonding as a group? He pushes those thoughts away for later. "What do you have for me?"

"Still a surprise." Eunsang has gotten close enough that Eunho has to look up at him now, that ever-so-charming smile never wavering even as Eunsang's shadow falls over him. He flicks a hand up between them before their proximity can get suffocating, something jangling around his fingers. Keys. 

"You stole the manager's van? Where are we going, should I be worried for myself?" Despite his words, Eunsang isn’t worried at all. Eunho has always been safe for him.

“I got my brother to leave his car here for us, we won’t go anywhere sketchy with it.”  Eunho pulls Eunsang down by the back of the neck, close enough that he can feel Eunho’s lips brushing against his ear. “The managers don’t know anything~” 

Eunho steps away before Eunsang's nerves can crash on him, keys jangling at his side. They had been so close… Dazed, he can only follow Eunho to the car, silently agonizing over what might have happened if he had turned his head just so… God, he wants to kiss Eunho so badly. Would he give in under his lips, soft and pliant? Would he take charge, rough and demanding? He nearly hits his head on the roof of the car getting in—would have if it weren’t for Eunho’s hand cushioning the blow. 

“Careful, Sangie. I wouldn't want you to get hurt on our first date."

First date?!

Eunho closes the door behind him right as his words process in Eunsang's head. He only has seconds before Eunho gets to the other side of the car and gets in, what should he say to him when he does?!

By the time Eunho has gotten in and started the car, Eunsang has exactly nothing. What can he say, when the one he’s been pining over since their debut together has pretty much confirmed that he returns his affection? Still, he doesn’t want to get his hopes up…

“I can hear you thinking from here. What’s on your mind?”

Eunho’s voice calls him back out of his head. They’re on the road now (was Eunsang really zoned out for that long!?), soft yellow streetlights passing by in pleasant smudges of colour. It’s hard to get a proper look at Eunho’s face as he drives them through the city, light and shadow forming an effective mask for him. Would now be a good time to tell him? Eunho’s tone had been light, but the atmosphere in the car is strangely heavy this time, confusion and something else hanging above their heads, just out of sight. Eunsang decides to skirt around it for now.

“Lots of things. Nothing important enough to really talk about though.” A half-lie. His feelings for Eunho threaten to tear themselves through his chest and out his throat, kept down only by his confusion and past experience. 

“Are you sure? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” There’s that tone again, that sweet and soft tone that Eunsang has only ever heard directed towards him. He resolutely stares out the window. They both know that if Eunsang looks at him now, he’ll break.

“I’m sure. Besides, you seem to have more on your mind than me if you’re sneaking me out of the dorms this late at night.” Eunsang dares to glance at Eunho’s reflection in the window and catches only the furrow of his brow before his gaze is back on the road. Had he been frustrated? Worried, perhaps? Eunsang forces himself not to think about it too much. His mind instead wanders to the words they had exchanged before taking off. Eunho has something for him, something that they have to leave the dorms for. Something not even the managers can know about, because it’s a surprise for their first date. Eunho could have been joking, of course, but if he hadn’t been…

It’s not much of a secret among the group that they both like men. Eunsang doesn’t remember who brought it up or why, but everyone had already clocked him by the time the company had put him with them. He wasn’t exactly as subtle as he thought he was on Produce X 101, after all. Everyone had been okay with it, thankfully. He remembers Eunho’s gaze lingering on him while the other asked him questions, and Eunho talking to him in private once that conversation had moved on. He remembers asking Eunho which way he swings, just because it felt natural to ask. Eunho’s response had been just as forward as he always is.

“Haven’t had much time to really explore. Not just girls though, I know that much.”

While that had comforted Eunsang greatly, that still raised more questions. Would he ever have a chance? Considering his track record with love, surely not…

“You’re right.” Eunho speaks again, sudden but slowly. “There’s something I want to tell you that only you can know. Nowhere in the dorms seemed like the right place, so.” Eunho shrugs. “I found a spot.”

Eunsang startles slightly when Eunho pulls the car over. He hadn’t even noticed that they had left the city, now stopping at a viewpoint on the side of a hill far above it. The lights below form urban constellations, their glow shining up to illuminate the clouds above. For just a moment, Eunsang’s worries are taken away by the view.

Rain starts tapping insistently on the roof and windows as soon as Eunho parks the car. Unfazed, Eunho just turns on the radio to drown it out. He plugs the aux into his phone, and Eunsang would recognize the sound of glass clinking to cue in those synths anywhere.

"Mirage? You like my songs that much?"  He can’t help the teasing smile that spreads across his face as his debut b-side starts playing, smooth and sensual. “Is this your way of telling me you’re my fan?” Eunsang’s voice is light, as is his expression when he turns to look Eunho in the eye. Much to his surprise, none of that teasing is reflected in the older man’s eyes, only an almost solemn stare. Fear shines in those pretty eyes, contrasting greatly to the set of his jaw. “... Hyung?”

Eunho heaves a short sigh, resigning himself to whatever he’s about to say. A dark part of Eunsang’s mind is reminded of a scene in a book he had read as a child, one where the main character had confessed a secret that sentenced them to death. The name of the book has long since left his memory, but those few pages had stuck. Something in the way Eunho resolutely keeps their eyes locked together and reaches for his hand makes him feel as if he’s reliving that scene—this time as the executioner. 

“It’s more than just me being your fan, Eunsang. I think you know by now that I’ve fallen for you, right?” 

The confession doesn’t crash over Eunsang in a great wave, instead hitting him gradually, drop by drop like the rain on the car roof. 

“I didn’t.” Eunsang takes Eunho’s hand, a little too tightly like he’ll disappear if Eunsang lets go. “All this time, I thought I was the only one who wanted more…” The weight of his own emotions prove too much for the clouds of his confusion, and they come in a torrential downpour as the words leave his mouth. His parched heart almost wants to reject him, not yet acclimated to the flood of reciprocated feelings. “Please don’t play with me, I can’t take it if you do,” he says instead. He hates how much his voice shakes on those words, how delicate he still is after he thought he had fully recovered.

“I promise you, I’m not.” Eunho reaches up with his free hand to wipe Eunsang’s tears away, tears Eunsang hadn’t even noticed had spilled from his eyes. “Let hyung prove it to you, yeah? Don’t cry, come here.” Weak to Eunho’s warmth, Eunsang melts into his touch. They’re so close now, both leaning over the gearshift just inches apart. 

“Can I kiss you?” Eunho asks, at the same time Eunsang whispers: “Please kiss me.”

Eunho meets him first, pulling Eunsang in until they meet. He’s heartbreakingly tender, kissing Eunsang as if he’ll break. Eunsang is the opposite, the rush of his feelings flooding out of him and onto Eunho’s lips. He takes it in stride, tangling his free hand in Eunsang’s hair to pull him closer. Up until a few minutes ago, this had been something Eunsang thought would be forever out of his reach, but now that he has it, has Eunho, all he wants is more, more, more. 

All too soon, Eunsang has to pull away for air. How cruel of the universe, to give him the need to love this deeply yet deny his body the ability to do so properly. He wants to entwine their very souls, to be embraced by Eunho so tightly that he can no longer tell where he ends and Eunho begins, oh he wants. His whimper when Eunho pulls away is utterly broken, something that Eunho rushes to soothe with another kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m not going far,” Eunho assures him. “Move your seat back a little, I’m coming over to that side.” Eunsang obeys almost numbly, only half aware of what he’s doing. His craving for Eunho’s touch encompasses his entire being, and he feels himself starting to shake apart while Eunho crawls over the gearshift to settle onto his lap. 

“Hyung, can I… Touch you?” Eunsang asks, perfectly in time with his own voice playing from the radio. (“Looks like I can almost grab it”) His hands hover over Eunho’s body, so desperately craving the warmth that’s so close to him. Eunho huffs out a fond sigh, guiding Eunsang’s hands around his shoulders.

“Why do you think I came over to this side, silly?” Eunho murmurs in the minute space between them. “We’ve held back for long enough. This is real, Sangie.” He cups Eunsang’s face—not to pull him in, just to ground him—and waits for him to make the first move this time. 

Eunsang closes the distance between them without a second thought, determined to kiss all his love into Eunho until it’s imbedded in his skin. Eunho matches his fervor easily, slotting against him like he was meant to be there. 

It gets far too hot far too quickly for Eunsang’s liking, the thrum of his desire fogging up the windows and suffocating him until he has to shrug off his jacket. Eunho unbuttons the top half of his shirt to match him before diving right back in, drawing a moan from Eunsang that matches his voice playing from the speakers. He had always known he can sound sexy, but with the way Eunho’s body shivers with every little whine that leaves his lips, he truly understands. 

“Fuck, Eunsang, I almost want to bite you,” Eunho groans against his neck. Eunsang nearly mewls at the confession.

“What’s stopping you?”

“Schedules.”

Ah, right. That pesky little thing called a career that looms over them both, that inevitably will call them back home to more endless practices and shows that cut into the time they can spend truly together… Eunsang has half a mind to tell Eunho to just do it anyway, schedules be damned. Thankfully, he still has enough of a head to resist.

“I know a better mark for us,” Eunsang whispers, kiss-swollen lips barely brushing against Eunho’s ear. “Since it’s so hot, my perfume has probably gotten on you. You’re going to smell like me until tomorrow night~” Eunho’s next breath is shaky against Eunsang’s neck, and his pupils are blown wide when he pulls back to kiss Eunsang again. 

“I like that. You’re making me yours,” he murmurs between kisses. Eunsang can’t help but smile against his lips, eagerly drinking in his desire. 

“And the others won’t know a thing,” Eunsang adds. He knows exactly how much to put on so that only those who get very close to him will smell it. For this, for him to be the only one to know that Eunho carries his scent… His head starts to spin, his blood rushing down to somewhere else at the thought. Something dangerous rears its head deep inside Eunsang, a deep-seated hunger starting to take root within his body. It would be too much for tonight, no matter how much he wants, so they should probably—

“Fuck, you’re going to kill me,” Eunho moans against his lips. Much to Eunsang’s simultaneous dismay and relief, he pushes himself away, keeping his hand on Eunsang’s chest to reinforce their distance. “I almost forgot this is my brother’s car, what have you done to me?” 

Right, that too.

“We can do more back home, let’s hurry,” Eunsang whines, pouting up at Eunho. He looks so good looming over him like this, a great contrast to their usual dynamic. Eunsang craves him.

“We should be resting at home,” Eunho chides. “Tomorrow is going to be busy.” He glances behind himself at the car's dashboard for the time, Eunsang following his gaze. 3:25 AM. Eunho's birthday, Eunsang's lovesick mind supplies.

“I don’t care about tomorrow, I want you now.” Eunsang punctuates his words by running his hand up Eunho’s shirt. Deep down, he knows Eunho is right. He had already been tired when Eunho first messaged him, and now that the heat of his kisses is dissipating, exhaustion has come creeping in to replace his desire. 

“You have me now,” Eunho assures. “Now and forever.” Forever… That sounds nice. Eunsang gives in, letting Eunho go with one last deep kiss.

The drive back home is a bit of a blur, the only clear memories being Eunho’s hand on his thigh and his own singing lulling him to sleep.

When he wakes the next morning, there are three texts from Eunho waiting for him.

Little Demon hyung Last night was way hotter than I thought Hyunseung thinks I borrowed your perfume, the scent is so strong Little does he know ;)

Eunsang can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. Perhaps they’ll tell the members eventually, but for now… This love will be their sweet little secret.

[drchucktingle]

Trevor’s Hanukkah has been a fun ordeal, packed with delicious food and great conversation, but now he’s exhausted and his family is begging him to spin the dreidel. Trevor finally gives in and ends up the big winner, collecting more foil-covered chocolate coins than he knows what to do with.

This is Hanukkah gelt, and Trevor’s not convinced that the taste of these old, cheap chocolate coins will be any good. He gives them all back except for one, but when Trevor realizes his snack is sentient, a whole new set of problems arise.

Now Trevor is awkwardly playing host to his living gelt, but as the night goes on the two of them begin to notice there more blossoming between them then just hunger for a snack… there’s a hunger for some dick.

This erotic tale is 4,000 words of sizzling human on gay living Hanukkah gelt action, including anal, blowjobs, rough sex, and sentient chocolate coin love.

----

happy hanukkah buds enjoy new tingler POUNDED BY THE HANUKKAH GELT I WON PLAYING DREIDEL THAT I THOUGHT I’D NEVER EAT BUT NOW I’M SEEING IN A WHOLE NEW LIGHT BECAUSE IT’S TWO IN THE MORNING AND I’M HUNGRY out now on amazon and patreon

this is the single version of one of the new stories featured in holiday paperback GREAT GIFT FOR BUCKAROOS

[angel-of-the-moons]

Alone Time

Moon Knight System (Marc, Steven, Jake) x Fem! Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, Fluff, smut, oral (m + f! receiving), protected sex, PiV sex, Jake has a certain kink, unprotected sex, every good mama deserves to have a train run on her, body insecurities, affirmations, porn with a big heaping slice of life, could this be considered cucking? Or voyeurism/exhibitionism?, broken condom

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

This fic is connected to "Small Surprises" Pt. 1 and Pt. 2.

A/N: I had to do it lmao.

Taglist: @simp4-fictional-men @autismsupermusicalassassin @princessakirika @mochimoqa @pimosworld

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Your life was a strange one, now. You'd gotten used to the looming, musty-smelling god that lingered in your apartment and spent time with your daughter; you'd gotten so used to having the man--er, men--in your life at your side when you wake up in the morning.

You'd especially gotten attached to their little fishy friends!

But, hey, you wouldn't change it for the world. Hanukkah and Christmas came and went, so did New years. Poor Victoria, she was hiccuping and crying because the fireworks were too loud and terrified her, prompting Jake to immediately cradle her, and even Khonshu moved to slam your windows closed to muffle the sounds. (Although you lectured him about cracking one of the panes in his haste.)

And now, Valentine's Day was coming up, and you weren't entirely sure what to get for your boys.

Victoria, bless her tiny, sweet, adorable little heart, cut out some messy, colorful, and craft-herpes (glitter) covered hearts to each of them, doodling various things each man liked. Steven's heart was brown with gold glitter and had little Egyptian designs scribbled here and there, Marc had a few sports items drawn on his white and blue-glitter heart, Jake had a bright yellow and white heart, a crude scribble of his car drawn on next to his name.

She even made one for Khonshu. It was gaudy. Bright, neon pink, purple and blue glitter all over, and had small drawings of birds on it, with a crescent moon with a smiley face in the middle. His face couldn't emote, but you couldn't help but grin like an idiot (and had to elbow Steven in the gut to keep him quiet) as your innocent daughter handed her little art project to her "Cranky Bird Grandpa 'Shu". You were positive his pride took a blow when he accepted it in front of the two of you, but the way he gingerly held the little gift silently told you that he did, infact, like it.

Why Khonshu's personality seemed to shift around you and Victoria, you were unsure. You'd never asked, and to be honest you kinda didn't wanna know. You just chocked it up to, hopefully, Khonshu realized his existence didn't have to solely revolve around justice and violence. That some of his more forgotten attributes could be indulged in; such as him being a protector and a healer.

One time, Victoria fell and scraped her knee at the park, bawling as blood trickled down her delicate little leg. Before you or Marc could leap to your feet, Khonshu was there (invisible to others, of course) and whispered something to her. She repeated it, and by the time you two got there, Khonshu was gone, disappeared into a puff of mist, and Victoria was no longer injured.

Marc had asked her, worried, about what Khonshu said to her, the moment you got into the car. You were vaguely paying attention, at first, distracted at how his beard had come in, and he'd stopped being so meticulous about his appearance that his usually raven locks and beard (the one Jake insisted they grow out) were peppered with silver.

"What did he say, Vicky?" Marc asked.

"Jus' said that I had to say the words." Victoria answered vaguely, playing with her little scarab plushie in the back seat.

"What words, baby?" Marc asked, feeling a nervous sweat break out on his neck. You had to place your hand on his thigh to snap him back to reality.

"The words!" Victoria said, pursing her cute little face, her nose all scrunched up at his lack of automatically knowing what she meant. "He said, I gotta say the words to ask for help, so he can fix me!"

"...Wait." You turned in your seat to look back at her as you approached a red light, Marc watching her warily through the rear-view.

"Honey, do you mean a prayer?"

"Duh!" She scoffed, like it was obvious. "'Shu used to fix people all the time, he says. But nobody says the words no more so he can't. I had to say em so he could do it!"

You and Marc blink at each other, mulling over what your daughter just told you, a thick silence hanging in the air that was only cut through by her munching on some veggie sticks (all carefully arranged by color, of course. The red ones tasted the best, so they went first!).

"....I forgot he could do that." Marc murmured softly, looking back at the road as the light turned green.

"Yeah!" Victoria peeped. "'Shu says he can't do it no more cause it's hard. It's easier to find bad guys than fix people 'cuz they don't him ask for it no more."

You watch as Marc's jaw tenses and a look of confliction creases his brow.

Living under basically forced servitude tends to blind one to any benevolence their "benefactor" may have possessed at one point.

...And apparently still possessed. He'd never thought--none of them had--to consider that Khonshu never dispatched them to heal anyone, because A.) Nobody prayed to him for that anymore. B.) It wasn't in Moon Knight's abilities to heal anyone. And C.) Evil was just so much easier to root out.

The rest of the ride home was quiet; Marc, Jake, and Steven's headspace abuzz with this revelation.

You, meanwhile, still stressed out over what to get Marc, Steven, and Jake.

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"I still don't trust him." Marc muttered stubbornly.

"I understand why, and you have your rights to." You sigh softly, kneading the muscles in his shoulders. You were sitting behind him on the bed, his legs draped over the edge. "But you have to admit, he's strangely... sweet to Victoria."

"I don't trust it." He huffs again, his eyes closing as your thumbs work a particularly stiff knot between his shoulders.

"I know. But believe me, if he tries anything..." You mutter as your brow creases and you apply just a bit more pressure, earning a groan and a strained chuckle from Marc.

"Shit, I think the old man is more scared of you than what the Ennead might do to him if he fucks with the sky again." He says. "You and that broom."

You grin and press yourself against his back, resting your cheek on his shoulder as you slip your arms around his midsection, feeling the mix of softness and muscle, there.

"Well... me and my broom are fearless companions." You chuckle.

Marc stutters out a short huff as your fingers brush the trail of hair running beneath waistband of his sweatpants. They were doing very little to conceal the growing erection that throbbed against his thigh.

Marc tipped his head and looked at the monitor next to the bed, showing that Victoria was happily snuggled in bed, curled up with her arms squeezing Digger the scarab plush and snoozing peacefully.

Thank god that little girl usually slept like the dead...

"So..." You say, leaning in to nip at his ear as you comb your fingers through his curls, small water droplets clinging to the strands. Your nails scraping against his scalp, he groaned.

"You don't gotta work for the old man tonight." You say, kissing down his neck and to his shoulder, feeling how goosebumps formed beneath your soft lips; your hand slowly sliding up from his happy trail to his chest.

"Ay, hermano, you don't say yes I'll fuck her for you." Jake's voice rang out.

Marc grunted at his unwanted offer and demand; usually when it came to being intimate with you, the two of you worked out a system, setting up times, etcetera. And when spontaneous things like this happened, Jake and Steven would leave you and Marc alone, and the other ways around.

But of course Jake would occasionally peek in to tell Marc different things to do to you to get the best reaction, or hell, sometimes he'd cheer Marc on like a weird perverted, one-man cheerleader.

"Hmmm... Jake?" You chuckle, taking a small bit of his muscle in between your teeth playfully.

"Fuck. Yeah." Marc gasped, your palm sliding slowly back down until it was all the way under his sweats, stroking his throbbing cock leisurely. He could feel Jake linger, just barely... he would be a spectator tonight, it seemed.

"Ah, should've known. Steven's a good boy and tends to leave everyone alone when it comes to one-on-one time." You chuckle, placing a small kiss to your bite mark. They'd be gone by the time he suited up next, but you knew all the boys had preferred little "badges" to wear.

With Marc, he liked your bite marks, your hand occasionally tugging on his hair. With Steven, it was hickeys and lipstick stains. With Jake, it was scratches on his chest and back, maybe a bitten lip.

However you were all careful not to make them too obvious. The one time Victoria brought up a hickey she spotted on Steven's throat, you swore you saw steam puff out of his ears and his brain explode.

"A-A bug bit me, poppet, th-that's all!" He told her.

"Oh! Okay." She replied to him, not questioning it further, content to go back to playing with her dolls. (She had mummified one of them while you two were making lunch, which concerned you because Khonshu helped so it was as frighteningly accurate as it could get on a chunk of plastic...)

Marc groaned and he bucked his hips up into your touch, his hand falling to where he felt yours beneath his pants, encouraging you.

"Damn, baby." He huffed, already feeling beads of precum begin to drop from the tip of his dick.

You tug his head to the side and kiss him hungrily, your lips connecting as your tongues sloppily danced with one another.

"Your mouth?" Marc hissed.

You nod with a hum slipping around him and to your knees on the soft carpet at his feet, your eyes dark and hungry as he lifted his hips, letting your soft, delicate hands pull his sweats all the way down.

"We honestly may as well stop getting dressed right out of the shower." You chuckle, biting your lip as you pump his cock with your hand, your cheek resting on his thick thigh while you give him a teasing look.

You press your thumb against the weeping head of his dick, sighing. "....because either way, one of you boys get wound up and we wind up naked again."

"Can't help it around you." Marc groaned as you ran your tongue up the underside of his length, tracing the pulsing vein there.

"Clothes just fly off on their own when you're around us, baby."

You snort and roll your eyes, giving his tip a little love nip before licking the large drop of sweet-salty fluid off it, and popping it in between your lips and swallowing him down.

"Fuck." He growled as you bobbed your head, sucking tight and hollowing your cheeks while he petted your damp hair shakily.

"So fucking good, baby."

You moan appreciatively, squirming as you feel your panties start to squish, your clit throbbing almost in tune with his pulse as you take him deeper.

You gag a bit when he gets a little overzealous, and he pulls you back, panting and brows pinched up in concern. "Shit, you okay?"

"Yeah, I just need a teeny bit of a warning next time, honey." You giggled before pulling him back into the hot wet cavern of your mouth.

Marc's eyes rolled back in bliss as your tongue stroked him, his lips snagging his teeth beautifully as his eyes drift to the monitor again to check on Victoria.

Dead asleep, but this time with a little foot poking out from her blankets.

He made a soft whine as the plush of your lips squeezed his sensitivity flesh, your teeth grazing just after, providing a singular myriad of sensations.

Gods, your mouth was downright sinful. The first time you gave him a blowjob, he thought he died again, his orgasm slamming into him like a runaway train.

Afterwards, you sheepishly admitted that sometimes, the only way your ex would get intimate with you while you were pregnant was oral, because he said the sight of your stretch marks made him uncomfortable, and he had his concern for "the kid".

Yeah, it was more likely because he was already having sex with your friend on the side by that point.

But with your boys? They loved whatever they could get, and treasured every millisecond of it. Sometimes a little too much; Steven had a habit of cumming before he even properly fucked you, especially while spending time between your legs with his tongue to the point you were worried he smothered between your thighs.

So many times he'd stain the insides of his boxers and pants, just from eating you out.

Marc groaned, his cock jerking in your mouth to signal you he was going to cum; and you hummed around him greedily, sucking harder to milk him of whatever he could give you.

"Fuuuuck--" He breathed hard, the first spurt of cum shooting out and coating your tongue; his taste heavy and thick and oh-so addicting as you happily drank him down, swirling your tongue around as you pulled off.

Marc chuckled breathlessly and collapsed onto the bed, his arm resting over his face, "Shit... I swear you could suck the soul outta one of us."

You slowly crawl up his body, looking down at him as you support yourself with your hands and knees with a cheeky grin. "That good, huh?"

Marc leaned up and kissed you softly on the lips. "That good."

His hands find their way up your thighs to cup your ass, kneading the soft flesh as he bunched your microfiber sleep shorts beneath his fingers. "Now lemme return the favor."

You squeaked and laughed as he flipped you on your back, his hands almost ripping your buttons on your shirt open to get to the skin beneath, licking and placing open mouth kisses as he moved down to your breasts, his tongue flattening over your perked nipples as his hand slides down to your tummy.

You squirmed a bit, you always do when he palms your squishy lower half. After having Victoria, you didn't "bounce back" like those gorgeous mothers online always seemed to. Your belly was stretched, visible purple marks that faded to an almost silvery sheen over time, but you just couldn't lose the weight that came with your pregnancy.

Your ex didn't like your obvious signs of your growing child within your womb, but your boys? Gods, they adored it. Because it was proof you carried that sweet, adorable, curious little girl that you all loved so much; your body keeping her safe and warm until she was ready to greet the world for the first time.

"Baby." Marc said, looking at you, his dark eyes soft and loving as his flattened his calloused palm over your squishy tummy.

"C'mon... I know that look."

"I... I can't help it." You mumble as he plants feather-soft kisses over your eyelids.

"You need to stay off those mom forums." He joked. "They're full of photoshopped women, or women who can afford surgery to hide a previous pregnancy."

"I know..."

Marc leaned down, kissing his way down your tummy, planting more and more kisses over each and every stretch mark, until his lips reached the waistband of your shorts.

"You're fucking gorgeous, baby. Every scar and bit of baby fat included."

His fingers tapped your hips and you lifted them so he could all but rip them down your legs, practically licking his chops as his eyes landed on your soaked and puffy folds, a soft patch of hair on your mons.

He kissed his way down, further, his thumb spreading your lips and labia, smearing your slick around as his lips formed an "o" around your clit.

You moaned deeply, hand tangling in his mass of untamed curls as his fingers toy with your entrance; tracing it but not sliding inside.

"Marc!" You bucked impatiently.

"So greedy." He chuckled, the vibrations from his voice sending jolts through your clit, making you jump and yelp.

The way his beard tickled and scraped your cunt and thighs had your head swimming, your slick soaking the salt and pepper hairs on his face.

When his fingers finally plunged in, your toes curled and your hands gripped your blankets tight.

"Marc." You mewled.

Marc used his thumb to pull the hood of your clit back as his index and middle fingers curled inside your tight, gummy walls; giving his tongue unfettered access to wrap around the sensitive nub.

You hips tilted and your back arched, and you had to bite down on your lip to stifle the cries that wanted to come from your mouth. Your clit was sensitive, it always was; but god forbid your baby daddy ever give a fuck about that.

Marc and the boys? Oh, they loved to abuse that knowledge every time you two were intimate. Especially when they were using their mouths on you.

"Shit, we need to find a babysitter Vicky's comfortable with." Marc growled in between open mouth kisses to your sweet lips, his fingers curling in the most devilish way.

"Wanna hear how loud we can get ya."

You hiccuped softly in an effort to control your breathing and stuttering voice as your orgasm started to creep up on you. All you could do was blabber out a short "yes" when Marc nipped at your clit again, pressing his fingers up at juuuuust the right angle, sending your eyes rolling so far back into your head you swore you could probably see your own brain for a split second as those wonderful waves of ecstasy beat away at the shores of your sanity.

Marc continued to thrust and curl his fingers, slowing down to stretch out your orgasm until you were ready, your poor hungry hole fluttering and clenching around his digits for more.

Marc, the cheeky little shit, made a lewd display of licking his fingers clean, spreading them into a wide "v" as he wrapped his tongue around each one, licking you completely clean.

You growled playfully and pulled him down to you, slipping your tongue past his lips, tasting a little of yourself in his mouth as your kiss turned sloppy and very messy; his beard soaked all the way through from how much you had gushed onto his tongue and mouth.

When you parted (because your brains finally told you that you needed oxygen to keep living) you were both flushed and hungry for more, and Marc reached down, squeezing your baby fat softly.

"All this is ours, and we aren't trading it for anything."

And damn, did he spend the rest of the night proving it to you.

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"Aunt Layla!" Victoria squealed, running and practically leaping into the woman's arms.

"'Tawar." She giggled, waving excitedly at the hippo-woman trailing just behind.

Layla laughed loudly and you grinned as she and your daughter brushed noses. It was weird, at first, meeting Marc's ex-wife (and Steven's ex-girlfriend) but you were happy they were still on friendly terms, friendly enough, that Layla wanted to meet you and your little girl.

Victoria latched onto her immediately, the moment she sat down in your living room, the curious girl pattered up to her after waking up from her nap, still drowsy as she clambered onto the sofa, and curled up in Layla's nap, resting her head on her chest.

It was so cute you almost started crying. Even the goddess, Taweret, squealed and wiggled her feet at the sight. Given she was the goddess of mothers, children, and other related things, it made sense that she adored your daughter (like Khonshu, but the old pigeon would never admit to it.)

Taweret tagged along on most visits because she wanted to meet the woman and child responsible for gaining so much trust and love from the boys to ease their pain and loneliness. She also just wanted to meet your daughter because, c'mon. Victoria was adorable and everyone so far loved her. Even the "bloody old pigeon" as she and Steven were so fond of calling Khonshu.

Layla settled and hefted your child onto her hips, walking over to give you a side hug and you two exchanged cheek kisses in greeting.

"Hey, love!" Layla said to you both. "How have things been!"

"Oh, wonderful. Victoria's started reading multi-chapter books already." You sigh, smiling in wonder at your daughter.

Victoria giggled bashfully and started rubbing her cheek onto Layla's, reaching out to touch Taweret's outstretched palm.

"Really? So soon?" Layla blinked in amazement.

"Yeah, the doctor said it's not entirely uncommon that some autistic children develop certain skills quicker. She's already reading some of Steven's textbooks to him!" You reply.

"Damn, give her a few weeks and I'd wager this little ankle-nipper will be able to put any of those scholars at the museum to shame." She snorted.

"Steven said the same thing." You chuckled. "Even joked that they could probably go into Uni together."

"Oh gods, that's cute." Layla giggled as Victoria dug her fingers into her curly hair to play with the silky mass.

"Steven had a meeting at the museum today, he'll feel so sad for not saying bye." You say wistfully.

"Eh, it's one night. He will survive." Layla scoffed playfully.

"...Thank you so much for agreeing to take her." You sighed at her.

"Hey, hey, no problem. It's Valentine's and you two have been so wound up lately you need some alone time." She winked at you not-so-subtly.

You blushed a bit at her implication and laughed nervously as you reached for Victoria's overnight bag.

"Oh--her favorite blanket and toys are in there. Her shampoo, toothbrush, toothpaste, Digger is in there, too, because you know how she gets without him--"

"Relax, I know this'll be her first time away from you." Layla smiled warmly. "But she'll be fine. The hotel is just a block away, and plus, nothing will happen to her. Not with a goddess and her Avatar looking out for her, eh?"

Your shoulders dropped with a heavy sigh. "Yeah... Yeah, you're right. It's just..."

"No, no I get it." Layla's eyes twinkled. "...So how many squishmallow things has Steven and Victoria accumulated?"

You laugh out loud and point behind her, the corner of your living room where you'd had your Christmas tree was now stacked with several plushies, mostly squishmallows of various kinds, including a very large pineapple named "Maui" that Steven and Victoria loved curling up against to read together.

Layla snorted when she looked, shaking her head. "Well, could collect worse things, I s'pose."

"Like taxidermied bugs and animals?" You joke.

"Oh that's a horrible thought!" She grinned.

"Yeah, well, like you said..."

Layla laughed again and moved so Victoria could lean up to you and rub noses, and you could pepper her soft little face with plenty of kisses.

"Be good for your Aunt Layla and Taweret, okay?" You ask her gently.

"I will, mommy!" Victoria chirped, rubbing her face onto yours lovingly, breathing in your perfume.

You waved as they all left, feeling almost bereft and out of place in your suddenly too quiet flat.

You decided, after a few moments of nervous lip chewing, to walk back to your bedroom.

You walked to your closet and moved aside an old suitcase, revealing a long black box wrapped in hot pink ribbons.

After that night with Marc, something clicked inside your brain and you knew what to get for the boys.

Or rather, what to get yourself for the boys.

You set the box on the bed and looked at the article of "clothing" sitting inside the box. You'd ordered this set of lingerie after Jake and Victoria snuggled on the couch after watching Zootopia together.

You made sure to have it delivered "accidentally" to your neighbor's flat, and she handed it over to you like you two were smuggling contraband into a prison.

After all, you didn't want the boys to find your surprise, now did you?

It took a bit, but you'd stripped down and hastily pulled on your new set. All straps, the fabric was easy on your hands, so you knew Steven wouldn't be overwhelmed by the texture when he touched you.

And boy... would he want to touch you.

The straps covered up nothing and so much at the same time, leaving nothing to the imagination while still, leaving so much.

Looking into the mirror, you swallowed thickly. It looked nothing like it did on the models on the site. Where they had flat, toned bodies and perfect figures...

You had soft, rounded out features, stretch marks and of course, the baby fat.

You chewed your bottom lip hesitantly, your first instinct to take it all off and shove it back into he closet when you saw what you didn't like.

But... you knew that Marc, Jake, and Steven loved you. And that they would go feral if they saw you in it.

For added measure, you slid on the sheer, white stockings up to your thighs, the soft material squishing the plushest parts of your legs.

You had to shove the second one up hastily when you heard the front door unlock, and Steven's voice.

"Ey, love?" Steven called out.

"Uh--egh--fuck--hold on a minute!" You say, scrambling for your fluffy bathrobe. It concealed enough that they wouldn't see much... save for if they looked at your feet.

Steven had walked into the bedroom just barely after you'd tossed the box back into the closet and the door clicked shut, you awkwardly smiling and standing with your hands clasped in front of you.

"Heeeyyy... You!" You tried pitifully.

A thick brow raised behind those dark-rimmed glasses of his. Gods, he looked gorgeous. Dressed in a nice smooth button-up, his blazer buttoned halfway up and his curls falling into his face? His sweet, boyish curiosity had you already blushing.

He looked every bit like the kind of professor many college students would fantasize about taking "extra credit" with...

"What's got you in a tizzy?" Steven chuckled, walking over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist to kiss the tip of your nose.

"Oh uhm.... Ah." You squirm, giggling at his kisses.

"Is it because Victoria is out?" He asked, tilting his head to the side like a curious pup.

"Well, uh, eh... Uhm." You cough awkwardly. Oh, this was a horrible idea. So stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"Oh! Actually, hold that bubble." Steven chirped, fishing out a small paper bag out of his back pocket.

Inside the bag, was a small box. A jewelry box.

Your hand goes to your mouth as he opens it up and grins sheepishly. "Took us forever to agree on something. Marc was being a real bellend about it, y'know?"

He frowns over at your mirror, his brows creasing as he scowls at his reflection.

"What! You were!" He snapped.

Inside the box was a silver pendant, cut in the shape of the crescent moon, with engraving on it.

"We love you, to the moon and back."

"A bit cheesey, innit?" He mumbled, pulling at his sleeves as his hands darted all over your face, his teeth snagging his lip.

You honestly felt like tearing up. It was so... so cheesey, and so romantic. Very much a Steven thing to do. But you could tell even Marc and Jake had a hand in it, too. It was a united effort.

"Steven...." You begin, lifting your eyes to lock with his doe-like brown ones.

He tosses a nervous, awkward smile.

"I love it. It's gorgeous." You say, your thumb brushing over the shiny material.

"Let me put it on you?" Steven asked you hesitantly, as if worried you'd say no.

"Sure." You smile warmly at him, noticing how his demeanor lights up and he cheerfully brings the chain around your neck as he moves to stand behind you, carefully locking the clasp so the moon hung just beneath your collarbone.

You hear Steven go "huh" under his breath as his fingers brush beneath your bathrobe, touching the straps of the lingerie you were concealing.

"What's this, love?" He asked you, and you jolted slightly.

Oh, shit. Right. The lingerie. You'd almost forgotten it!

"Uh.... It's.... Eh...." You stammer out awkwardly, stepping away to fiddle with the sash of your robe.

Steven watches, curiously and patiently waiting for you to speak, his head tilted to the side.

"So, I've been trying to figure out what to get you guys for Valentine's day, y'know? I was stumped, trying to think on what I could do, so... I... Um."

You looked at Steven, his curls flopped over his head, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips as he nods, urging you on.

'Damn it, now or never...'

Your fingers undo the knot of the robe and let the fluffy material slip down to hang from your forearms, your face erupting in a heated flush as you feel his eyes rake slowly up and down your body and hear him gasp just barely audibly.

"Oh, love." He breathed. "You... That looks--"

He snapped his head to the mirror, his face scarlet red. "Sh-shut it! I was--no! You just shut it!"

You watch as he looks at you again, bashfully as your eyes reconnect. He rubbed the back of his head and said sheepishly, "S-Sorry.... Jake just won't... Stop being Jake right now."

"Oh..." You reply, licking your plush lips anxiously as Steven walks closer to you, his hand reaching out to brush the various straps, moving to delicately cup one breast, his thumb brushing over the strap that covered your nipple as he continued to look at you and that silver pendant that hung from your neck.

You really completed a gorgeous image; like a swan perched elegantly on a lake's smooth surface.

Sometimes, Steven felt like a clumsy and loud goose next to you. He knew it was a poor comparison, that you would never look at him or Jake or Marc that way, but he had his own insecurities as much as you did...

"Do... you like it?" You ask slowly as his other hand, warm and more than a little sweaty rests on your hip.

"We love it." He replied, leaning in to kiss you softly on the lips. As he pulled away, you noticed his dark eyes become almost smoky--heavy.

"We.... Wouldn't mind seeing this on you more often."

"Well... Hm." You say, feeling his hands encircle you, moving down to cup your ass as his mouth kissed your jaw.

His calloused fingers squished and rolled your cheeks beneath his palms, pulling you closer to his own body, allowing to feel his hardening cock press against your thigh while his knee parted your legs and your back connected with the cold plaster of your bedroom wall.

The chill made your nipples harden, poking through the fabric of your lingerie and you yelped at the sensation.

"Hell.... You 'right, love?" Steven asked, his curls falling over his forehead as he looked at you with wide eyes.

"Yeah." You chuckle, goosebumps erupting on your body. "The wall's a little cold."

"Oh...." Steven says, his lips brushing your ear.

"Then... we best move to the bed, yeah?"

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You were positive there were going to be bruises on your hips from how desperately Steven had gripped them, rabbiting into you, his cock sliding in and out of you effortlessly, the sound of slapping skin sinfully loud inside your bedroom.

"S-Steven!" You squeaked, your poor cunt abused and sensitive as he fucked you, the texture of the condom he wore sending little shocks through your body with each drag of his hips.

You had already cum--twice--once from Steven's hands and mouth, and once more from how he'd fucked into you.

Steven had cum while his face was buried between your legs, rutting his clothed hips hard against your mattress as you squirmed and writhed against him. The way he looked when he pulled back, lips swollen, face flushed; his beard wet from your juices, his hair tousled and hanging over his brow. He looked utterly fucked out and he hadn't even been inside of you yet.

"....k-know, love." Steven whimpered, rutting into you a bit more, practically bent in half over you as he kneeled between your legs, his cock angled at an eye-rolling tilt so it slammed once more against your g-spot.

"Almost--almost--" He panted hard, his grip on your hips slipping a little because of how sweaty you both were, so instead he hooked his hands through the straps that still adorned you and used them for leverage as he relentlessly pounded into you.

You dug your nails into his shoulders as you pulled him down, mouthing at the apple of his throat as it bobbed, tasting the thin layer of sweat that dewed his skin, sucking a bruise onto the skin, there.

"L-Love!" Steven whimpered, his pace stuttering as you feel him twitch inside of you, the condom beginning to swell a bit as he pumped his load into the safe cocoon of latex.

His hips slowed into languid rolls, prolonging his orgasm just by a tiny bit as he came down from his high.

You kissed his temple softly, petting his sweat-damp curls as his breathing began to even out. You feel him slump against against you and his arms lock.

You feel a shuddered breath escape him before his breathing finally became steady.

"Steven?" You ask him softly, running your fingers through his hair again.

He lifted back and supported himself on his forearms, looking down at you with a grin, his eyes twinkling.

"Think again, cariño."

"Jake." You breathed, already feeling a thrill creep up your spine as his lips traced your jawline.

"Steven got to have you all dressed up," His fingers playfully snapped one of the straps on you, making you squeak softly. "Now it's my turn. Can't let such a nice, pretty present go unwrapped."

"Oh.... So you're gonna take it off me, now?" You asked, shuddering as he pulled out, still rock hard.

"Nah." His hands went to your hips and with a jerk, flipped you onto your belly, pulling your ass up, his hand kneading the soft flesh as he looked down at you.

He moved the panties to the side to see your red, puffy cunt. "Coño más bonita que he visto."

He didn't change the condom; instead, he pushed right back into your pussy, groaning deep in his chest as he felt your heat grip and squeeze him invitingly.

"Nice..." Jake hissed through his teeth, pulling back slowly before sinking back in, relishing in how your body so eagerly welcomed him back inside of you; your thighs glistening so beautifully, wetting his own, dripping down his shaft to coat his balls as he started fucking you into a steady rhythm.

He winced himself, feeling tense as the body had cum while Steven was in control, so his nerves were still highly sensitive to everything right now. He wasn't going to last long, he knew and it frustrated him. He made a mental note to remind the other two to leave him alone with you for a day or so at some point, wanting to be able to ravish and ravage you properly.

He leaned over, kissing the skin between your shoulder blades as he muttered against you.

"Touch yourself for me, mamí. Want to feel you choke my cock." Jake rasped.

You moan weakly, complying with his request as your fingers slide down beneath you, grazing circles over your engorged clit, choked-out whimpers coming from you as Jake began thrusting into you hard and rough, his skin slapping you so hard you thought there would be red marks from the sheer ferocity of it.

"Oh, god--Jake--" You wail into the pillow, your fingers swiping and circling more and more, trying desperately to match his pace as your squishy, wet walls crushed his cock beneath their fluttering onslaught.

He growled and fisted a large bit of the straps in one hand, pulling your ass back against him, watching as your skin rippled and jiggled with every slap as he fucked into you over and over.

"Fuck, yes. Just. Like. That." He hissed, each word punctuated by a slam of his hips into yours.

You could feel another orgasm just about to burst, your head swimming in that blissful haze as Jake plowed into you at a bruising, aching pace.

"Such a gorgeous mamí." Jake said to you, his voice was heady with arousal.

"So fucking pretty, such a good fucking mamí. Sabes lo bonita que eres, ¿no?"

Your mind was turned to mush as your orgasm washed over you, filling every pore with a dizzying pleasure, rendering you barely aware of what he was saying, let alone to translate it as his hips snapped into you one final time.

However... You felt a new sensation inside of you, and with a few jagged, harsh thrusts, you felt Jake cum inside of you, flooding your deepest reaches with his thick load, making your eyes snap open.

"Shit." He groaned, pulling out of you, watching as the ripped condom clung to his cock, a thick ring of white at the base as he ran a shaky hand through his hair.

"Well, now. This is a pickle." He laughed.

"Jake, you--you know that--" You sputter, groaning as you roll over to look at him.

The bastard didn't seem upset in the slightest; that cheeky little shit!

"Yeah, yeah, mamí." Jake smirked at you as he pulled the ruined condom off of his cock as he caressed one of your spread thighs idly.

"Then why aren't you--FUCK!" You wail, feeling him bottom back out in one deep thrust, your nails scraping his skin at the blinding sensation.

Jake grinned as he nipped at your throat, "Baby, whatever happens, we aren't going anywhere. Even if that means I stuff you so full--or Steven or Marc--that your belly gets all cute and round."

You whimpered and gripped at the meat of his shoulders as he started fucking into you again, blood once more rushing straight through his dick, renewing him with more energy and drive.

"I think Vicky would love a baby brother or sister, no?" He muttered out, his tongue dragging over your fluttering pulse as it hammered against your skin. "So... Why don't we give 'er one?"

"D-did y-you even a-ask M-Marc or St-Steven?!" You cried, bouncing and pushing against your pillows and blankets as he fucked you.

"Don't have to... They've fantasized about it enough already." He laughed.

His lips kiss and glide over your skin as he rips the upper part of your ensemble down, freeing your breasts to bounce free from their strappy confines as Jake whispers in your ear.

"And believe me... Marc definitely wants to fill you up, now, bebita."

[nortsauce]

I like your nonhuman phoenix headcanon because no one talks about the fact that he doesn't have a family. My headcanon for him is that he barely remembers any of his childhood except when he was friends with Larry and Miles in elementary school then moved away during middle school and the next thing he remembers is that he's waking up in a cornfield with millions of dollars, the deed to an apartment, and a college acceptance letter, so he just starts going to college and the reason he's so mentally young in his first trial was because he didn't have much of a childhood.

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH

Also yeah its weird that Phoenix, someone who literally cannot stop talking/roasting the people he loves, NEVER SPEAKS ABOUT HIS OWN FAMILY.

This dude is so cagey when it comes to himself that it gets crazy. I imagine that his friends and found-family get so frustrated with his ass because when it comes to getting him a birthday present he will literally never talk about what he wants or likes.

Its like getting a guy a Christmas Present only to find out THE DAY OF THE GIFT GIVING that he might be celebrating HANUKKAH. AND THATS A /MIGHT/ BE.

But yeah i don’t have one set vision of Phoenix’s past. I just fully believe he’s a little weirder than we give him credit for.

He’s such a chaotic good, in the sense where you share a sandwich with him one day in preschool and years later he’s defending you against a mob boss who wants your ass dead.

Clearly something is weird with him and i love it LMFAO it’s like he learned how to be human off of kids cartoons!

So whether he was made in a lab, spawned, created by gods, or even just a literal phoenix that reincarnates every 100 years (see: Ryunosuke Naruhodo) he’s weird and i love him.

[hanukkahbingo]

Panfandom Hanukkah Bingo

WHAT: A fanworks bingo celebrating Jewish (and Jew-ish) characters across any and all fandoms. Write fanfiction and/or create graphics (moodboards, edits, vids, whatever you like) to fill prompts on this overall bingo card. During the 8 nights of Hanukkah, submit your fills to the AO3 collection and/or post them on Tumblr to be reblogged and added to the Bingo Masterpost.

WHO: Any and all characters who are Jewish or Jew-ish. Canonically Jewish characters (like the Baudelaire orphans), characters who are* Jewish but it’s not explicitly stated (like Bucky Barnes), characters who you like to headcanon as Jews (like Tina Belcher), characters who are Space Jew-ish or otherwise Scifi Jew-ish (like Leia Organa)… all are welcome. Interfaith, multicultural, patrilineal, and convert stories are all welcome! MESSIANIC HEADCANONS AND/OR MESSIANIC STORIES ARE NOT WELCOME.

WHEN: Start creating whenever you want, but the AO3 collection will be open from December 7-15 to accept works for this year’s bingo. Masterposts on Tumblr will be posted each night (like… Hanukkah gifts for fandom, get it?)

WHERE: Tumblr (tag @hanukkahbingo and #hanukkahbingo) | AO3 | Discord – All works must be posted on either Tumblr or AO3 to be included in the Masterposts. Discord is for discussion, betas, cheerleading, etc!

WHY: Jewish characters and Jewish fans are often overlooked or erased during the Winter Holiday Season in favor of “Secret Santa” exchanges, Christmas-themed fics, and the idea that ~Hanukkah is Jewish Christmas~ (which spoiler for all fics in this bingo: it’s not). This panfandom Bingo challenge is to celebrate Hanukkah on its own terms and give Jewish characters and fans a place to breathe. :)

And I’m tagging @fandomevents @stuckybingo @buckybarnesbingo @tikkunolamorgtfo @progressivejudaism @damereyconnection @starspangledbigbang @starwarsblr @gffa @elizabethminkel @bettsfic @hellotailor @copperbadge @vaspider @reachmouse – if you see this and you love a Jewish or Jew-ish character (or a Jewish fan!) please reblog so that we can get a good selection of fandoms and fanworks… Jewish fans deserve love this time of year especially, and this seems like the least I could do to help spread some of that love.

[eideticspider]

|| @spiderbyhalf ||

With Hanukkah and Christmas steadily approaching, Cindy was unsurprised to see the halls at HQ almost empty. What was surprising was that it was more relaxed than eerie. Clutching the two cups of coffee in her hands, she nods at the odd passersby, even smiles though her mask hides it.

Christmas used to be one of her favorite times of year before the bunker. Ezekiel didn't really do anything to celebrate for her, maybe brought her the odd book to add to her tiny collection--but nothing to the same effect that her family had. And though she and her mother had had a strained relationship since she was freed, the holidays are a little easier. The house is full of warmth and laughter, the smell of good food and simmer pots swirls around the air.

It reminds her of better times and it's a time she's come to cherish.

She'd been putting in a lot of thought into her gifts, working into the night on some occasions to make sure they were just right. For her mother, a hand knit sweater in her favorite color. For her father, she'd gone out searching for the perfect watch after he'd casually mentioned he'd broken his original. For Al, a new set of knives for his new position as sous chef at his restaurant and a new apron. Peter and MJ would be recipients of tickets to the show MJ had suggested months ago and for Mayday? Of course she had to buy her the biggest, messiest art kit that she could get her hands on.

Miguel's gift had been another one that she'd worked tirelessly on--since the day after Thanksgiving. There were constant nights where she'd collapse on her bed, smudged with lead and smeared with paint. Anxiety constantly ebbed and flowed and she worried that he would hate it. Since she finished the piece, Cindy went back and forth with just going to the store and buying him something.

It was getting to the point where she didn't have time to keep alternating between ideas.

She hadn't done the piece with any kind of intention--just a reflection of a time they shared that she looked on with fondness. He was, with the strongest definition of the term, her best friend. She valued having him in her life, regardless of the connotations.

Even if she found herself thinking about a deeper connection more and more since Thanksgiving.

And even more so after her date with Derek.

He was a nice enough guy, and they had a decent time. He hadn't tried to kiss more than her cheek and they had good conversation.

But he wasn't the one. It had occurred to her that she couldn't be with someone she had to lie to, at least not in the long-term. And she liked Derek. Not enough to share her life with, but enough to not want to have to constantly lie about who she was. As much as she'd like to take credit for declining a second date, it had been more of a mutual decision.

(And, she'd never admit this to Miguel but the meat eating had been a problem.)

Not to mention, her mind had been all over the place since Thanksgiving. Overanalyzing his kiss to her cheek had come and gone, determined to be just friendly by her forced recognition. But still, she couldn't fight off the lingering feeling that there was something more there.

Not to mention, she'd been noticing just how...beautiful he was in recent days. The lines and creases of his face, his steady posture, the rare smile that she felt privileged to see, the way joy will glimmer in his eyes at a stupid joke...If she had been an artist of old, he'd be her muse.

But she was born in the modern age and it was considered a faux pas to send two texts in a row to a guy. Jesus.

Dr. Sinclair had her work cut out for her that week.

Using her shoulder to slip into Miguel's office, she sits and nudges his cup closer to him on his desk. Neat fingers tug down her mask so she can take a long sip of her own.

"How grateful are you that it's so damn quiet right now?" She teases, leaning her hip against the side of his desk.

[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

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

Cloudy Christmastime

damian wayne x reader x jonathan kent

(A/N): Before anyone protests, I headcanon the Wayne family as celebrating both Jewish holidays like Yom Kippur and Hanukkah as well as Christmas and Easter because yes, Bruce is ethnically Jewish (though may have done Christmas as well) but Dick/Jason/Tim/Steph would have likely celebrated Christmas. So they do both.

Anyway, this is a christmas gift for @glorified-red and literally the 5th take on this fic bc they first said Hallmark movie, then damijon hallmark movie, then whump. And then it took me three tries to get something I was close to happy with so I hope you enjoy. This ended up being a mix of domestic fluff and h/c.

warnings: sensory overload

wc: ~2600

~~

“Tell me again why Santa doesn’t bring us gifts if he’s real. Like our dads have met him. And he still doesn’t bring us presents,” Jon lamented from the couch, bundled up in four blankets. 

From your spot on the floor by the tree, you looked up, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “Because we’re not kids anymore? And how do you know Santa ever brought us gifts?” 

“Perhaps,” Damian added, passing Jon a cup of hot chocolate. He placed a second cup on the coffee table and lifted one to his lips. “He only brought gifts to people to make a point. I never received any from him as a child but father has gotten many over the years.” 

Jon listed to the side, head landing on Damian’s shoulder. “I think that’s worse.”

For the first time in a while, Jon felt Damian’s huff of laughter more than he heard it. Your small chuckle was similarly inaudible. Jon hated solar flaring. Not only was it a pain to deal with for the day and change—one could argue he got either lucky or really unlucky by solar flaring the morning of Christmas Eve—but it always threw his senses out of whack as they trickled back in. And, with the gray skies of Gotham’s winter, Jon was expecting it to be even weirder than usual. It was worth it though, to him, in order to spend the day itself with his partners. It was enough that the Kent family Christmas Eve was ruined by Lex Luthor. He wasn’t going to let his Christmas day be ruined too. 

“I’m sorry, mi sol,” you offered with a shrug and a smile. Jon met your grin with his own. A full-body shiver wracked his frame. Your gaze turned concerned. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Jon agreed, “Just chilly.” Damian’s arm wrapped further around Jon, pulling their sides flush against each other. Jon maneuvered the blankets away to soak in his warmth. 

“Ameli, we can turn the heat up,” Damian offered. 

“Nope,” Jon argued, nuzzling into Damian’s neck. “This is good.” Damian’s resulting huff of air teased at the hair on the top of Jon’s head. 

“Mi luna?” You asked from the floor. Damian turned to look at you. Jon followed, eyes traveling over the mound of presents arranged under the tree. There was a pile around the back of the tree against the wall for Damian’s family (Jon still needed to give Dick his gift from the Hanukkah celebration a couple weeks ago. The blue dreidel paper was obvious against the sea of brown, red, and green wrapping paper.), and a smaller one for yours. The empty gap left behind after the Kent Christmas was already filled in with a large box Jon was like ninety percent sure was a new easel for Damian. You ordered it, not him, but Jon couldn’t think of anything else on any of your lists that was even close to that size. “Can you hand me that please?” You gestured to a precarious stack on the coffee table. 

Damian acquiesced, passing over a teetering pile of vaguely book-shaped items. Who those were for was anyone’s guess. Jon was grateful Alfred had helped you and him pay for some of the gifts for Damian. Looking at the gift tags, it otherwise would have been horribly uneven. And Damian himself wouldn’t have minded, Jon knew, but you and him would have been upset about it anyway. He deserves the world, your rohi. Damian pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of you, still arranging presents under the tree. He showed it quickly to Jon before texting it to him immediately. 

“This look okay?” You asked, peeking out from behind the tree. Jon looked it over. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for exactly, but he also wasn’t exactly the reigning opinion on artistic presentation. 

“It looks fine, hayati” Damian said, eyes still trained on his phone. You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“You didn't even look.” 

Damian turned to look at you. “Because I knew it looked fine, beloved.” His eyes scanned the presents. “And it does.” 

You shook your head at him, exasperated, before conceding and sitting heavily on the couch. Scooching in, you nearly pressed up against Jon’s other side. 

“Come closer,” He whined, untangling a hand from the blankets to grab yours. “You’re warm.” 

Jon could feel the look exchanged over his head. 

“I’m not that warm,” you argued even as you grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table and arranged the blankets so that you could fit underneath. “You’re just cold.” 

Jon shrugged. The hand that wasn’t holding yours reached underneath Damian’s shirt and he swore, grabbing Jon’s wrist to keep its chill away. Another look passed over Jon’s head. He wondered sometimes if the two of you were aware he knew what you were doing and just didn’t care. Probably. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, amorcito?” You asked. Jon shrugged. 

“It’s cold outside and I’m human but otherwise yeah. I have you two,” he added smugly. Damian’s playful shoulder hit came at the same time as your muttered “sap.” Jon grinned. “So because I’m sick—sort of—I get to pick the movie. And we’re watching Santa Claus is Coming to Town.” Despite the protests on both sides, the movie was playing before Damian could even get up to turn the lights off. To the side of the couch, the lights on the Christmas tree bathed the room in a soft white glow. 

~

Jon awoke to a cold bed. On a good day, he’d wake with the sun—or whenever it wormed its way through the bedroom’s black out curtains—or to an international emergency. Okay, not that the emergency was good, just that he was feeling good enough to know it was happening. On a bad day, all bets were off. Jon stuck his hand out of the covers, searching blindly for his phone. After a moment of finding nothing but the wood of the end table, the scratchiness of the sheets was unignorable and he gave up, flinging back the covers to get out of bed. Hanging over the side of the dresser was a dark red sweatshirt. Jon grabbed it and tugged it on, rubbing his arms to get the lingering echo of the sheets off his skin. His off kilter super hearing zeroed in on the crooning of Michael Bublé before zooming back out into the general background noise coming from the kitchen. Jon winced, squaring his shoulders. That was a bad sign. But it was Christmas; he’d be fine. 

A quick squint at his phone told Jon that it was just after noon. No wonder the bed was cold. Jon shivered, then grabbed a pair of your fuzzy socks before opening the bedroom door. 

The smell of cinnamon and chocolate coming from the kitchen was pleasant rather than unbearable. Jon let himself breathe it in as he approached quietly. He didn’t even notice you behind him—though that was often true of an average day—before there were arms around his waist and a head on his shoulder. He let himself lean back into the warmth of you. 

“Merry Christmas, mi amor. How are you feeling?” you inquired. Hot breath ghosted across his neck. Jon shrugged. 

“Fine. Excited for today.” He spun around to face you, eyes taking in your christmas pj pants and sweater with a Robin logo. Over your shoulder, Jon could see flashes of blue, likely Damian’s nightwing sweatshirt. “Merry Christmas,” he added, tucking his nose into the spot just underneath your ear for just a moment. No matter what his super senses were like, he took comfort in the smell of the two of you. A hand weaved through his hair, a kiss pressed to the top of his head. Jon pulled back just enough to give you a peck on the lips before being spun around into a kiss from Damian. 

“Merry Christmas, my heart,” Jon muttered, pressing a second lingering kiss to Damian’s jawline. A steady heartbeat pulsed under his fingers, wrapped around Damian’s wrist. 

“Good morning,” Damian said, wrapping an arm around Jon to keep him close. Jon blindly reached out and a second calloused hand found his. A second warm body curled around him. He missed your heartbeats’ song in his ears, but Damian’s pounding steadily under his ear and yours fluttering underneath his fingertips was good enough for right then. “Are you alright?” Damian continued. “It’s late.” His voice was echoey underneath Jon’s ear and Jon flinched instinctively. The two of you reacted immediately, pulling back. 

“Jon?” you asked, voice laced with concern. 

“Yeah,” he managed. “I’m mostly good. About as expected, you know?” Jon offered up a smile. By the looks on your faces, it didn’t do as much reassurance as he’d hoped. “I’m sorry I slept so late.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Damian argued. “There is no reason to.” 

“Yeah, I guess,” Jon sighed. 

“How are you feeling about breakfast, mi sol?” You asked, tangling your fingers with his. 

“Sounds good,” Jon agreed. 

~

“Oh yeah I should definitely send Dick a text to thank him. And also say Merry Christmas,” Jon said, flopping down on the couch after breakfast. With his partners looking happy, Christmas music in the background, and a breakfast of vegan pancakes in his stomach, Jon could almost forget about the buzzing under his skin. 

“Tt,” Damian scoffed. “He would have swapped with me anyway. Gordon and Father are both working tonight so it was pointless for him to have the evening off.”

Jon shrugged. “Still, doesn’t hurt to say thanks.” 

“Say hi from me too,” you yelled over the running kitchen sink. After a moment more, the water shut off and Jon released a silent sigh at the absence of an irritating bit of noise. He was lucky the x-ray vision hadn’t started acting up. Not only was that like the antithesis of Christmas presents (his mom kept presents out of the house or in a lead box until morning for that very reason), but it was also a huge pain and the hardest to hide. Screwy touch and hearing was more than enough. Dishware clanked around in the kitchen as Damian sat beside Jon on the couch. 

“No change?” He asked, reaching for a Nightwing mug of cider on the coffee table. 

Jon shrugged. “Nope, nothing yet.” Damian narrowed his eyes and Jon attempted to start coming up with excuses. At the very least, he could probably get Damian to leave it alone until after gifts. Less so if you noticed too and started teaming up on him. 

“Ready for presents?” You asked, sitting down on the other side of Damian. You raised the untouched Superman mug to your lips, eyes scanning over Jon. 

“Yes!” Jon butt in before you could say anything. “Let’s do it.” 

You and Damian exchanged a look. On the floor below, the elevator dinged, releasing a family with a horde of kids. “Okay,” you conceded, standing to grab the first load of presents.

In the apartment directly underneath, the front door squealed open. A load of presents was slammed down on the floor beside him. Three kids squealed “gramma!” in unison. Jon’s hoodie was all of the sudden suffocating him. 

Jon jumped up and yanked the sweatshirt over his head, pawing the sleeves off before yanking his socks off too. He didn’t care where they ended up. His hands went up to press against his ears. Stumbling over his own feet, Jon meandered backwards until his back slammed into a wall and then slid down, knees up and head with ears still covered in between them. Sounds zoomed in and out. All of the sudden, he could hear Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer playing eight floors down, then A Christmas Carol on someone’s TV across the street. Focus! Jon yelled at himself through all the noise. One steady beat came into focus, then another. 

Until there was a soft item brushing his feet, Jon didn’t realize he had company. A steady beat pulsed in his ears, too loud even for its familiarity. He pulled the blanket close. Something plastic nudged his shoulder and Jon grabbed it instinctively, slamming special-made headphones over his ears. The sounds faded down into something manageable. Jon took a deep breath. And then another. He didn’t need to hear to know that the two of you were there. When he reached out tentatively with his sense of smell, the usual wave of cinnamon-vanilla-brown sugar-clove and somethings just the two of you tempered by pine and peppermint was comforting rather than overwhelming. Jon let it wash over him, clutching the soft weighted blanket to his chest. 

When he cracked his eyes open, two blurs blinked into focus as his partners, leaning against the back of the couch and hands linked. Damian’s head rested on your shoulder, one of your hands tangled in his hair. Jon noticed as soon as Damian saw he was up. He almost slammed his head into your chin as he shot up and Jon huffed a laugh.  

“Ameli?” Damian asked. Your eyes locked onto Jon’s. 

“You guys shouldn’t sit on the floor,” Jon responded. “It’s bad for your backs.”

You offered Jon a hand, ignoring his remark completely. Jon’s chest ached. If you weren’t willing to banter, he’d scared you. “How are you feeling?”   

Jon took the hand and stood, adjusting the headphones so they stayed on his head. He tossed the blanket over his shoulder and reached his other hand out towards Damian before tugging the both of you up and towards the couch. 

“I’m okay,” Jon reassured you, sitting down on the couch. “I promise.” When neither of you moved, he tugged you both down on top of him, interrupting the bat-assessment written all over Damian’s face.  

“Promise like this morning?” Damian argued. Jon winced. 

“Okay, yeah maybe I shouldn’t have—”

“Been a self-sacrificial dumbass as if we don’t a) know you and b) want you to talk to us?” You cut in. Jon could read the hurt underneath the anger clear as day. His fingers brushed over two sets of knuckles, one scarred from years of fighting without protective gear, the other dry from the winter air. 

“I know. I just wanted today to be a good day, you know? We never get uninterrupted holidays.” Jon resisted the urge to pull his hands away from yours and curl into himself. The two burning gazes on him were ones of love and concern, though, not judgment. 

“And for some reason you think accommodating you makes the day worse, why?” Damian asked. Jon didn’t have an answer. 

“We love you, Jon. Eres nuestro pareja. We picked ‘partners’ for a reason, yeah?”  You squeezed his hand in yours. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, head dropping to your shoulder. Silence was heavy in the room for a moment. 

“You choose what we do next,” Damian stated, tugging the blacket from its bundled blob to instead cover you and Jon. 

Jon moved from your shoulder to halfway on top of Damian, tugging you on top of him. “You guys are going to squish me in between you while we watch a movie and then we can do presents?” 

You shot him a wicked smile. Jon shrieked as Damian pulled him bodily half on top of him along the couch, cut off when you landed nearly on top of Jon. 

“Good?” You asked. Jon let himself sink into Damian, arms coming up to wrap around your waist. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Good.”

Damian grabbed the remote. “We’re not watching Elf.”

Jon stuck his tongue out at him.  

[protagonistically]

Like, I get it. DC had a vested interest in making Bruce and Tim have a father/son dynamic because that's what they knew would work. That's what Bruce and Dick (though I think Dick fans will argue that they're more like brothers, which makes sense to me) have and that's what Bruce and Jason had/have. They thought, hey, we'll just rinse and repeat because that's what we know works with Batman and Robin.

But that just isn't the natural dynamic for them? Tim had a family for 13 years, a mom and a dad with their own issues, for sure, but in theory, we know that Tim loved them a lot. They were his mom and his dad. And I do think Tim was probably a pretty lonely kid and that's what makes the bond with Dick so cool. Like now he's got that big brother that he probably didn't know he was missing. And in Helena, a sister that fills that space. You'll never convince me that Tim didn't constantly ask his parents for a baby brother or sister for Christmas or Hanukkah.

Tim doesn't have a missing Dad space! And that's good! It makes him different and it honestly it creates a much more interesting dynamic between Tim and Bruce. Because now you get to play with different roles, like a gen-x boss with a gen-z employee! Fun! You get to puzzle through how they feel about each other as their relationship grows from how Tim started off, a distraction and support during the lowest point in Bruce's life, to a mentor/mentee relationship to them becoming friends and then colleagues.

And that brings me to my next point, DC really isn't utilizing Drake family lore enough. All jokes aside about Jack giving Dana the ugliest haunted medallion as a wedding gift, the Drakes had kind of cool jobs. There's so much potential there for family angst, and adventures and side quests. And that's just with Jack and Janet!

DIG DEEPER DC D: