#it also doesn’t have to be a Shabbat dinner. it can just be something Shabbat related/related to what we’ve discussed during Shabbat

[nope-body]

.

[keshetchai]

Greetings Friend,

I hope you can help me

How did you go about learning Hebrew? As in what resources, classes, books etc. did you use to get a handle on the language?

I really struggle with languages, so I was hoping you had some advice or tips.

As a bit of background, I am currently a conversion student, going on almost 2.5 years now. I have long since completed the formal learning requirement with my synagogue (conservative) and according to my rabbis, I am free to attend the Beit Din and Mikvah whenever I so choose.

I know my neshama is Jewish, I know this is who I am/supposed to be. I know because of some unusual childhood experiences, and then when I started converting most aspects of the learning and practices came so naturally (granted nowhere near an orthodox level of observance, which isn’t necessarily the goal at this time, but certainly not something I am opposed to perusing) except for the languages.

As previously stated my rabbis say it is okay but something is holding me back from taking that final plunge (lol), and I believe it’s the language.

I still bench in English, and find it really stressful to attend services because I can barely muddle my way around the liturgy, or songs during a Shabbat dinner.

Of course this is just a personal hang up, and absolutely no criticism or shame on anyone else who converted without knowing/knowing very little of the language. Just, for some reason it just doesn’t feel right. I cannot bring myself to say I am actually a member of this wonderful, beautiful tribe before I have overcome this hurdle.

So… any advice?

A few answers for you, the first is most important:

Very Early On in my studying, one of the two rabbis at my synagogue wasn't leading and so she sat in the back, and I decided to sit next to her because i was still finding my footing in the basic service.

And at one point, it may have been for mi hamocha, the cantor starts with a NEW tune I don't know, and I'm still relying on the transliteration entirely and was still trying to memorize the FIRST tune.

And my rabbi leans over and whispers to me: "I have never heard this tune before in my life either."

And the anxiety broke, then. I didn't know this version for the song already and I was lost. But the rabbi sitting next to me also didn't know this tune.

Being Jewish is about always learning something new, even if you are encountering the same thing you've seen or done before dozens or hundreds of times. THAT is being Jewish. Rereading the same book every year and the same passages over and over, but still being a little lost or even finding something you never knew before?

That is being a Jew.

Jews may open a siddur and know what they'll find there, but we do not open it and expect to know everything about how that material is used or applied. And we don't feel a guarantee that life will not teach us something new today, or that someone's minhag won't be totally different from ours. Jews may know the Torah, they may even choose to memorize the mitzvot by heart, but we don't expect this memorization will ensure we never have a halakhic question in life!

So you see, the big scary fact is this: you might become a fluent reader of prayer book Hebrew, you might someday daven entirely in Hebrew, or even graduate rabbinical school, but still sometimes be thrown into being a stranger to something, even something you thought you knew.

But when you identify this and then embrace it, it becomes less scary and part of your Jewish identity. Being perfectly settled, fixed in your knowledge or your thinking or your skills — it honestly doesn't feel terribly Jewish to me.

And for many people born as Jews this can manifest as a type of reflexive embarrassment or self-consciousness for failing at jewishness somehow or having less knowledge for one reason or another. It can make folks defensive or ashamed or feel frustrated for the disconnect. I'm here to tell you that as converts we get the chance to illustrate joyfully that no Jew knows everything Jewish, and that is the experience of being Jewish. The biggest thing holding any of us back from learning the things we don't know is

a) being afraid to seem not Jewish enough or

b) being afraid to not know something

I have excellent news for your (and my) anxiety:

A) almost all Jews worry about how Jewish they seem in some fashion or another so that's normal and,

B) since only hashem knows everything, our job is to not know everything, but to be willing to learn anything. Also we're better in numbers! Two heads are better than one and a minyan is better than that! Everyone doesn't know something, but none of us are alone as Jews. Which is why we become Jewish in community, and not alone. Because someone else might know what we don't!

Get it?

Step #1: you have to jump feet first into not already knowing something perfectly and start knowing less but learning more.

If you are reading the English words and English translations to daven, this means you need to stop. This was your training wheel. And you are not finding your own balance relying on it.

If your siddur has transliterations of the hebrew, bring a little index card next time and cover up the English as you daven for a start. I familiarized myself with the Hebrew because I was saying everything in Hebrew out loud every single time. Once you know the shema by heart more or less (for example), all you have to do is learn the alphabet to prompt your memory to progress further in your Hebrew learning.

That's how kids learn any language. We speak before reading as children. So speak and chant and sing in Hebrew. Whisper the Hebrew. As you get more comfortable, learning to read Hebrew will be an exercise you can even do during the middle of shabbat.

Because you know what the prayer says, and you just need to match the words you see to the sounds you know.

Step #2: know the aleph bet before you attempt reading comprehension of all words.

Things that I used to learn the aleph bet:

Hebrew scripts (the app by drops)

Write it! Hebrew app

Victoria Hanna's The Aleph Bet Song (Hosha'na) because uh she sings the aleph bet and pronounces it

Behrman House Books: Hineni: prayerbook Hebrew for adults; aleph isn't tough! For adults. The kids stuff is good too, I'm not ashamed to say I own "time to read Hebrew!" 1&2

(The Hebrew by inbal on Amazon looks new but good possibly?)

If you want a siddur set up specifically to practice matching transliteration and Hebrew aleph bet, I recommend Chayim Alevsky's My Siddur (choose the minhag variant you use! I bought the Sephardic/Israeli as I don't use ashkie pronunciations.

There will be slight differences of you're used to liberal inclusion of say, the matriarchs, but in general this is a solid practice book for anyone. Transliteration is given word by word, with full word blocks reading in the same direction as Hebrew. At the bottom of the page certain (possibly newer to the learner) words will be defined.

It also now has an app which looks like this:

So you see this is pairing the reading direction of Hebrew words with the sounds spelled out in English to strengthen your Hebrew. If you try to read the transliteration in the English direction word by word, you'll be reading it backwards and starting with v'kayahm, instead of "modeh" (or "modah" feminine). Further even if you're starting correctly with modeh, the English word is still left to right over the Hebrew right to left. so this forces you to be attentive to the Hebrew itself and slow down word by word!

The layout in the print versions means you can cover up the transliteration to test your learning of certain words, and only check if you forget.

I still am not perfect at everything and I truthfully attentively practice Chinese far more than Hebrew reading, but this is what helped me.

Good luck!

[disgruntled-detectives]

I need more Jewish conversion friends.

I need more people in my life that have either gone through what I am currently going through, or are currently going through it themselves. Because damn i have so much stuff I wanna talk about. This weird liminal space we exist in like. We’re not Jews. But the Jewish community is our community. Ever since 10/7 there’s been so much shit coming up for me and I wanna talk to more people in my position. I wanna share the joy of discovering and falling in love with Judaism. I wanna talk about my joy and my worries and hopes and cares. I wanna talk about the books I’m reading. I wanna talk about everything. The good and the bad. The joy and love and beauty and the antisemitism. Which. Boy. That’s new.

Don’t get me wrong. My friends are super super supportive. They love and support me completely. But they are not Jewish and don’t really “get it” ya know?

My husband is also incredibly supportive. We are building a Jewish home together. We celebrate holidays, I make challah, we do Shabbat, Yiddish is tossed around pretty often, Jewish jokes and humor is a thing in our house. We have Jewish decor up, and a mezuzah on our door. But. He was born Jewish. He doesn’t “get it”. I am working so so so hard to join something he was in since birth. Something that is just a given for him is a brand new passion for me. Granted, me falling in love with Judaism, I can tell is having an affect on him too. He actually asked to sit in on my class last night. Which. Woah. But yeah.

So yeah. I’m in a kinda lonely place. My rabbi does want to host a newbie Shabbat dinner sometime though which is nice.

[thoughts-world]

First before I say anything I have to shout out Evan who has been the most incredible father not only the past 7 weeks but also the 9 months prior. Evan literally changed both mine and amalias diapers in the hospital and there was a time where he was running between me, extremely sick in recovery post emergency surgery, and Amalia in the NICU,  receiving updates, giving comfort, all at 4 am.

 I have a memory of Evan and I in college before we started dating late one night intensely debating if god existed. If god existed what did he (or she) have power over? Should that mean we should be observant? Why did bad things happen? If he doesn’t exist what’s the point in religion?? What is life all for? We never reached a conclusion. 

I say all of this because we ended up choosing the name Amalia which means “gods work” or “work of god” and I think I can speak from both of us when I say after seeing the way Amalia came into this world, after spending 7 weeks with her perfect little nose and fingers. Seeing her smile in the bath, the way she curls up into us and holds onto my chest. Her expressive faces and her leg lifts, we have no doubt she is gods work. She is our work of god. 

Amalia (or as her cousins call her, baby Mali) is named for my mother, Melissa. For anyone who didn’t know my mother passed away 4 years ago at only 54 years old. My mother was so many things. Too many for me to be able to speak about in my allotted time. There’s so much of my mother that I want Amalia to have but I’ve decided to just highlight a few today.

I hope, just like your savta missy, Amalia, you always stands up for yourself. I hope you’re never quiet and always advocate for what you believe in even when it’s hard, even when it feels like no one is listening.

Just like your savta missy I hope you put family above all else. I hope your life is filled with Shabbat dinners with so many people you have to permanently have the leaf open in your dining room table. I hope you take the extra flight, even when you’re exhausted, even when it’s expensive,  for a family simcha, a chag with your best friends, a funeral for someone you’ve never met but meant the world to someone you love. 

Lastly, just like your savta missy I hope you know that just by being born, just by being you, you are you are apart of something much larger than yourself, you are apart of the jewish people. and no matter how you practice or where you go, you are apart of a resilient nation. One that even in times as dark as October 7th, finds light and repairs. 

Amalia, your abba and I love you so much. You are already our entire world. Our hearts existing and beating outside of us in human form. We can’t wait to see all the ways you honor and use your powerful name.

[acenancy]

The Ace x Nancy x Tamura of It All

I’m here as a hardcore Nace shipper (see the URL) to throw my two cents into the Ace x Nancy x Tamura discussion.

Some of you straight up hate Tamura and that’s cool, I get it, no judgement, but I personally like him a lot as a character. And I LOVE the connection he and Nancy have. Their repartee is entertaining, they share a passion for solving mysteries which is key to being Nancy’s friend, and their very different life experiences help balance each other out. 

You know, since one of them is grounded in reality and the other is navigating through life in a supernaturally charged hellmouth.

That being said, I hope they grow closer during S3 WITHOUT becoming explicitly romantic. And I think that may be exactly what happens! At most, I think that while solving magical mysteries, Nancy and Tamura will engage in a fun little flirtationship  that will lead to genuine friendship. His partnership with Nancy would be solidified this way as well as his honorary membership to the Drew Crew. This could serve three purposes: 

Forcing Tamura to accept the supernatural elements of Horseshoe Bay, thus weaving him more intricately into the plot.

Creating tension between Nancy and Ace 😏

Exploring and adding depth to whatever sort of relationship they’re trying to establish between Tamura and Ace.

I see all of this playing out fairly simply: while Nick and George are busy juggling real life and a wedding, while Bess devotes her time and energy into researching her family history and finding love, and while Ace prioritizes Amanda, Nancy finds herself without proper backup. So! Perhaps unintentionally, Nancy gravitates to Tamura. There's crimes and mysteries to be solved and since her friends are not fully available to her, who better to turn to than the guy who’s job it is to investigate these things? And so begins the Nancy and Tamura buddy cop comedy that is both dreaded and highly anticipated depending on what social media outlet you’re using.

Though let me repeat: BUDDY COP. 

I really don’t think we’re going to have an Ed and Lorraine Warren situation on our hands with these two. Truly, if the S2 finale is anything to go by, I think S3 will allow Nancy to grow into herself outside of a romantic or sexual relationship. She’s not running from herself and into someone else’s bed anymore. She’s embracing and learning to love herself. I’d even go so far as to say Nancy’s love interest next season will be...Nancy lmao. 

As for Tamura, if they decide to give him a romantic interest, I think they would either have his ex-fiancée reenter the picture or maybe even do him dirty and stick him with Temperance for plot reasons. A doomed Tamura x Temperance romance would actually be fun to see, in my opinion, and would be a great way to open Tamura’s eyes to the supernatural. That’s just me spit-balling, though. Whether it’s because of Temperance or not, I think Tamura is finally going to have to accept ghosts and witches and magic are real this season. It’s just a requirement for working with Nancy Drew.

MOST IMPORTANTLY, we have to address the Nace of it all. Sorry to Tamura but I do believe you’re being used as an obstacle in True Love’s way next season. I think fandom’s general consensus is that the more time Nancy and Tamura spend together, romantic or not, the more jealous Ace will become. While I agree, I think Ace’s jealousy will stem from somewhere a little deeper than just seeing Nancy with another guy. 

Take Gil, for example. Ace was sort of jealous of Gil, but more than anything he was wary of him and concerned for Nancy’s wellbeing when she was with him. Unlike Ace, Gil never had anything to offer Nancy except for sex and a getaway car. He sure as hell was never her number one person. In fact, he wasn’t even Nancy’s number five person. There was never a reason for Ace to be envious of him.

Tamura, on the other hand, can prove to be just as much of an equal to Nancy as Ace is. As chief/lead detective, he also has power and influence that Ace and Nancy do not, and access to people and resources that Ace does not have (unless he can hack into them). Tamura can help Nancy bend and break the law without consequence if need be, too. And, although naive in regards to the mystics of Horseshoe Bay, he is just as smart as Nancy and has, on the rare occasion, even been one step ahead of her. Tamura is an asset, to say the least. Together, he and Nancy make a formidable duo.

That’s what will make Ace jealous. More than the prospect of romance between Nancy and Tamura, I think that Nancy finding another intellectual match is what will rub Ace the wrong way. They’ll find themselves at a brief moment in time where Nancy will turn to Tamura for assistance before anyone, including Ace, and Ace will realize he absolutely hates that someone who is not him is Nancy’s partner in crime now.

Maybe Nancy won’t notice, but Ace will probably realize his love for her is not of the philia sort. I’m sure Amanda also will. And? Maybe Tamura will see it too.

Which brings me to one of my favorite dynamics of the show: Ace and Tamura’s.

I’m not gonna sit here and spin my crazy conspiracy theory that they’re brothers. Though that idea will always hold a special place in my heart, slowly but surely I am accepting that Ace’s long lost brother really is Grant. I’m being a total grownup about it. I swear.

Nevertheless, I do think they’ve been trying to build some kind of relationship between Ace and Tamura since before Tamura even met Nancy. What sort of relationship? God, I wish I knew.

They meet each other first, which doesn’t necessarily mean a lot, but it’s worth noting that they’re on each other’s funny little shit lists before Nancy even enters Tamura’s picture. It’s also Ace and Ace alone that hears from McGuinness that Tamura will be replacing him in the same episode. Then, of course, we have that crazy Shabbat dinner in 2x03 that exacerbates their antagonistic relationship further. Then there’s their snarky banter and all of those totally unnecessary side-by-side shots of them saving Noah in 2x10. Apart from Nancy, Ace is the only member of the Drew Crew that we’ve seen Tamura develop a real connection with, even if it is an unfriendly one. And, as of now, their relationship doesn’t even have anything to do with Nancy.

So where are the writers going with this hilarious and hostile bond between Ace and Tamura? Has all of this really just been buildup for a romantic rivalry? Hey, maybe! I really can’t figure out another reason why the writers have gone out of their way to create their dynamic since the Brother Theory has been disproven. But something tells me this may be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

And when I say “this”, I mean Tamura taking a step back from Nancy once he realizes he may just be filling in the love of her life’s shoes. Because that’s where I think all of this is going. Not necessarily anywhere romantic between Nancy and Tamura, but somewhere more friendly between Tamura and everyone.

At the end of it all, Tamura is going to finally embrace the supernatural, he’s going to become an ally to Nancy, Ace, and the rest of the Drew Crew, and, when the timing is right, he’s going to hop onboard the Nace ship with the rest of us. 

I HOPE.

Side note: this is just where my head is at. I truly respect all of your opinions and ask that you respect mine too. If you agree with what I’ve said and want to talk, let’s talk! If you disagree and want to talk, we can talk too! Please, just don’t get nasty with me. This is a television show about fictional characters at the end of the day, and I am a real person. Much love to you all. ❤️

[heroesandlovers]

Nancy Drew 2x03 "The Secret of the Solitary Scribe"

Main plot

Everyone on the Crew is dealing with their impending mortality differently.

George is buying green bananas (in other words refuses to stop living her life as if she only has a few days left)

Ace is washing dishes (because as long as there are dishes to wash).

Nick and Bess however…

Bess wonders if they can break the curse by just…giving Lucy’s bones back. This conversation also leads to them realizing that Tamura must have taken the skull bone.

Do we ever see Nancy text anyone other than Ace?

Nancy finds out that CARSON DREW was the one who sent those flowers to the gravestones. The same Carson Drew she's been avoiding. Carson takes Nancy (in hopes that it will give them chance to talk) to the recluse AJ Crane (formerly Kitsune). While there, Nancy steals a “talisman” from his front porch and takes it to Hannah to see what they can learn from it. I actually thought this was kind of cruel of Nancy. She obviously suspected this was protecting AJ and yet she just…took it? When she knew “they or it” was coming for AJ literally while they were in the cabin?

Bess tells Nancy their plan to return Lucy’s bones. Nancy is at first a little upset that her friends would want to treat her mother's bones so flippantly.

Hannah tells Nancy that the talisman she took is actually a beacon for the most scary and dangerous ghosts. Just as these evil ghosts find her, AJ also finds her. Apparently hiding under a table is valid protection though and the ghosts focus their attention on AJ.

Nancy finds out the backstory about how AJ, Mac, etc originally called the Aglaeca. It was to save a little girl from a car wreck they had caused. The little girl was…Hannah from the historical society. Woah. Full circle.🤯

Nancy shares her idea to return the thing they asked for. AJ says that’s not an option for him. After the Crew return the bones, which the “sea?” seems to accept, they learn that AJ has escaped prison and is heading towards….Hannah.

They manage to prevent AJ from killing Hannah but when they return to the Claw to celebrate their new appreciation of life…they find Lucy’s bones. “No return policy”

The episode ends with a lovely scene of Nancy going to Carson and asking for help in burying Lucy’s bones. She’s also invited Ryan. (tear-eye emoji) Nancy still has a lot of stuff to work through. Nancy and Carson still have things to work through. Nancy and Ryan certainly have a lot of things to work through. But AJ dying alone and from his greatest fears was a wake-up call.

They decide not to use the talisman. They don’t want to go through what AJ experienced. But they do think they may be able to find something from AJ’s research they can work from to find a way to stop the Aglaeca. They come across a dybbuk box (a Jewish ghost trap apparently). They grab whatever they can find and RUN, before the evil spirits drawn by the talisman are able to reach them.

Random

Awww…Ryan has been visiting Patrice and bringing her flowers (heart eyes).

Ace and Thom

We get Ace and Thom this episode🙌 . Ace runs into his Dad while stealing the skull bone back from Tamura at the police station. Ace still doesn't like his Dad working. Thom guilts Ace into coming home for Shabbat dinner. And when he does…who is there but Tamura…from whom Ace had just stolen the skull bone from.

Great scene. Classic. I think Tamura calling Ace a walking haircut was the highlight. Closely followed by. “You found. A human bone. At the Claw?

“Okay Brando dial it down”

All Ace has to say is that he didn’t do anything wrong and Thom believes him. As much as these two argue and apparently don’t get along, I still love their relationship. And I can't ignore the parallel of Nancy beginning to work through her father issues in the same episode that they feature Ace and Thom.

Nick and George

George is pushing Nick to find an apartment. She doesn’t want him staying with her but she also doesn’t want him staying with Nancy.

"If we have less than three days left, I don’t want to be apart for any of it." They decide to finally make it to bed. Although…they’re at Nancy’s place so a little awkward. But not as awkward as when Nancy walks in on them. 😬

Nick gets a motel room. But George can’t get the image of them drowning in Nick’s truck out of her head. Even though she started the episode “buying green bananas”, she can’t get it out of her head. No matter how hard she tries.

But at the end of the episode “We’re reclaiming your truck” And sexy times ensue.

Aceisms

“This is my Shabbat face”

Tamura -”I can sing it too if you want”. Ace- “No that’s Ok. He can’t hear and you look hungry we should just”

“Come to Jesus? The man had a bar mitzvah. Pick a lane”

“Rise and shine you crazy kids”

[docholligay]

Hi Doc! I'm looking to buy a nice wine to celebrate with tonight and I've got about $100 set aside for it. Is that enough to buy a good wine with, or should I splurge a little more? I'm not necessarily looking for a high alcohol content, but I'm not afraid of that either; I'm looking for something that tastes lovely and goes well with fish. Do you have any recommendations?

Wine Anon: Ok so I consulted my co-celebrator and here are some answers!

I thought we were doing a fancy dinner but we're getting a bunch of sushi with some appetizers (edamame, maybe some oysters.) We aren't doing dessert with dinner tonight. We are eventually going to do a 3 course dinner with dessert, and we will be getting several bottles so I'll def have to come back to you for that!

I'm very new to wine, I know that I like rosé and some sweet whites? The last white that I got that I liked was a pear wine from Olive Garden (I know, I am the Haruka of my relationship.) It was actually the wine that convinced me to not give up on trying new wines! I think I'd only had a few up until then and they were dreadful. I think I don't like dry?

Wine comments from my so: dry, woody, not sweet, not leggy, anything he can taste the tannins in is a no-go so no reds? He favors white but he won't say no to a good rosé. His first wine love was a 5y Sauvignon Blanc he had at a some fancy rich dude's party when he was 17 so he can't recall the name haha. He mentioned New Zealand and Chilean wines were good.

If it comes down to it, I don't mind getting a good bottle heavily favoring his tastes (we're doing this for him) but if you can think of 2 bottles that we'd both separately like, I wouldn't mind that either.

Thank you so much for your help!

First of all, congrats to your mancandy for knowing the difference between tannic and dry. There's a huge misconception that dry means tannic, and they're totally different things. I assume it's because tannins have a sort of dryish feel in the mouth. Anyhow, I DO want to argue the fact that reds are exclusively tannic--there are plenty of low tannin reds--but that's another post, as red wouldn't really go with what you were eating unless we were really trying to make it stretch.

Secondly, all of this assumes that you have no interest whatsoever in sake. I LOVE sake, and it's my always go to for sushi, and my frequent go-to for light fish dishes in general. But it's not super accessible, and some (wrong) people flat do not like it.

Thirdly THANK YOU SO MUCH for just giving me a goddamn number!! My least favorite word on EARTH is "affordable." It's meaningless. Just tell me your number! I may not be able to HELP you, but I won't JUDGE you. For anything you need help finding. So bless you, and it was a MAJOR reason I decided to answer this. Whites tend to be cheaper (unless they are Champagne) for a wide variety of reasons, so I don’t think MUCH on this list will hit about 35-40. 

A note: Unless something is WIDELY available commercially, I just recommend TYPES of wine. I would go into your local wine store and ask for these varietals, depending on which one you choose. They may even be able to help select one to go with fish!

So for him, I DO recommend a Sauvignon Blanc, or another high acid wine. The fish used in sushi is mostly fatty and rich, for fish, and these high acid wines give a real element of freshness and even slightly of salt.

You want to know one of my favorite SBs? It's actually something you can get at the goddamn COSTCO, Kim Crawford SB. I don't know if I would call it an OCCASION wine, depending on how we think of things, but it is special enough to be a Shabbat wine in my family, I think you can get it in most grocery stores, and it never disappoints.

If you want SB, but not though, I'd go with a Fume Blanc, which is one of my favorite wines no one seems to know. Fume Blanc is SB, honestly, but made in the US, and pretty much always highly oaky and dry. I love it, but I love that oak shit. Fume Blanc is hard to find nowadays, because of declining knowledge of the name, winemakers are just labeling stuff " Sauvignon Blanc" which, yeah, it's the same grape, but I like to know which SBs have seen some oak, you know? Anyway, I like the rich oakiness paired with salmon rolls especially!

If you want to go with something TOTALLY different that I think he'd like, I think that a Muscadet is going to have a lot of those same flavors while giving him something different. It's BONE DRY, and the acids from it are going to give a lot of those same pleasant associations as SB. A good Muscadet is probably the most expensive thing on this list. 

My favorite budget sushi wine, period, is Ovum Big Salt. You are not looking for budget wine, but if you ever are like me and eating buy one get one half off rolls while reading a book, I love Big Salt. It's a Riesling-Gewurztraminer (Somehow I doubt I spelt that second one correctly) blend that legitimately has strong salt overtones. It's also great with coconut shrimp. (Come to think of it, dry Riesling would be a good pairing with this, too)

For you!

Sweeter wines are tougher to pair with sushi than his tastes, but that shouldn't say at all that it's impossible! If you like something labeled pear wine at the Olive Garden (ahahahaha I'm sorry but ahahaha) the wines you like are probably not just sweet in a WINE sense, but probably TRULY sweet.

So I'm going to push you a little bit! These are sweet in the wine category, or if you’re the sort of person who doesn’t eat a lot of sugar, but they aren’t like...fucking moscato or something. A bit more refined, a bit more elegant, and a good way to move into developing your palate, while not being OVERTLY challenging for a newbie. 

My wife is at times (often) a Haruka Lite, just one calorie, and moving her to a better and wider palate, I’ve had a lot of luck with bubbles. I think because they are widely fun in their own right, and give another quality to what might otherwise be a too-straight-on glass of wine, so that’s the direction I went here.

Prosecco, specifically a demi-sec. Demi-sec is the sweetest variety of prosecco, and I confess I give this to you more to try and put you on the path of expanding your wine palate than as a specific pairing--like I said, sweets are hard--and you’ll almost certainly need to go to a wine shop to find a version that is both demi-sec and GOOD, which is doable but not easily accessible*.

Now if you want something I ACTUALLY think goes with sushi, I recommend Cremant. Cremant is champagne, made in France, not made IN Champagne. It’s the same shit. It offers a lot of the complexity and delight of Champagne without the cost (Champagne is ALSO a lovely choice! But I generally recommend that if you’re both drinking the same bottle.) I think it’s one of the greatest secrets of the wine world--it’s not like the French terroir outside of Champagne sucks. You will almost certainly have to get this in a wine shop, as it’s not well known by people casually (which is a goddamn shame) in America--the UK tends to have a wider range of them.

I L O V E Cremant. Love. A favorite bubbly. Maybe my favorite, actually? I mean I love Chapagne but like, I have a baby and a mortgage and a budget.  And Champagne goes great with sushi! Cremant is, I find, a little less intense than Champagne, which I think will be really good for you as a “beginner” and also the price point tends to be SO APPROACHABLE. Anyway on this one I actually DO have a couple brand recs, because this a thing I drink A LOT, and I’m going to break my ruling about not reccing certain brands ahaha. 

J. Laurens Cremant de Limoux --I think this bottle is like 20 bucks locally? It IS more Brut (dry) but I still think it’s really nice, with a citrusy quality that pairs really good with richer fish

Kuentz-Bas Cremant d'Alsace-- I fucking love this bottle. It’s 25, I think, bucks, at my local wine shop. It’s almost...creamy? I know that sounds insane but I can’t think of a better word. I love Alsatian wine in general though. This is a really nice, light wine that I think pairs with TONS of stuff, and would be good with a wide variety of sushi styles. 

I had a really amazing Rosé Cremant years ago that had a quality of sweetness to it, but I bought it in a goddamn Tesco in London and so I DOUBT you can find it here. I have it written down in my travel journal though, I think. 

ANYWAY I HOPE THIS HELPS SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG. 

*This puts me in mind of the One Good Moscato I have ever had, at Alinea (in and of it itself one of the highlights of my life) where it was still too sweet for me personally, but I could recognize the complexity and mastery in the glass. I was shit shocked. Someone remind me to ask @keyofjetwolf what it was, I think she wrote it down, and as I recall it was not a spendy bottle, even. 

[whocalledhimannux]

oyou know what, fuck it. I’m drunk on a Tuesday night and I’ve been talking about Jews in an old fandom for the last couple of days so I’m going to make my case for Jewish Relius, in full acknowledgement of the fact that it makes no sense in canon

so the maps of the QT world seem to sort of imply that this is a world where Turkey/possibly parts of Iran and Iraq share a land bridge with Africa, cutting out most of the Sinai peninsula including Eretz Yisrael. which would make the existence of Judaism (or Christianity or Islam for that matter).... difficult. but not totally impossible! because Avraham Avinu is said to be from Ur, which historically was on the Persian Gulf which is roughly analogous to the QT great southern ocean. so it’s totally possible to sub one of those Three Cities or Hemet in for a fictional QT Jerusalem.

and it’s then real easy to make a fictional diaspora in the Hephestian Peninsula because of all that imperialism in the Mede region (am I making Immakuk an antisemite in this au? hope not. he can be that fucking dude. what’s his face. Cyrus? the one who ended the babylonian exile), and the Greek Jewish diaspora is one of the oldest in the world, going back a solid 2100 years, well within the QT-equivalent era.

and yknow, by Gen’s time people are pretty lackadaisical towards the gods, which is Good for the Jews, because we tend to do Not Great in times of strong nationalistic  religion and cultural hegemony.

anyway that’s my argument for Jewish QT characters in general

now let’s move on to my boychik Relius

I am aware that this could play into stereotypes given that Relius is a very Suspicious Slippery character who ~Betrays his Country~ and has a voracious sexual appetite but consider this

I Can Do Anything I Want

setting aside the sex stuff because sex is Good actually and all my favorite people are LGBTQ Jews

gross stereotypes very often have their roots in something Real but misconstrued

we see this in QT itself. very, very, very frequently, characters resort to trickery and lies and underhandedness because they are members of an underclass and therefore do not have the luxury of above-board measures--Pheris weaponizes ableism, Irene weaponizes sexism (moreso than Helen, who tends to defy it outright). Relius and Kamet are a bastard and an enslaved person, respectively (and okloi as a matter of course) and that shapes their personalities to a POWERFUL degree

so too the Jews. for a significant portion of European history, Jews were legally okloi as a class, pushed into trade because they were forbidden for owning land. being non-landowners deprived them of most of the legal rights afforded subjects/citizens, but in some ways also was beneficial, in that they were more mobile and had more avenues for success and stability if something like, say, a war or a flood or what-have-you bankrupted farmers and landowners. at various points, various European nations also employed Jews as the enforcers of the state financial apparatus. Christians and Jews alike are forbidden from charging interests to their in-group, but without interest, nobody is fckig giving loans to anyone, and if no one can get a loan, that’s a significant damper on the economy. so, the king puts Jews in charge of banks, because Jews can charge Christians interest. the king puts Jews in charge of collecting taxes. “court Jews” do the bidding of the monarchy because putting themselves under the king’s protection gives them access to wealth and power they would otherwise be barred from, AND ALSO protects them from outbursts of religiously or politically motivated antisemitic violence because fucking No One likes the tax collectors or the bank’s loan officers

which is to say - Shylock was the tragic hero of Merchant of Venice, actually

and Relius can fit a stereotype and still be Good Jewish Representation if he is written with all the love and sensitivity and historical nuance I hold in my heart

side note: all the Tolkien fans who were mad at me for writing Jewish Dwarves because I was ~stereotyping them~ when I was just trying to add nuance to Tolkien’s blatant “they were meant to be Semitic” bullshit can still fuck right off

where was I going with this

okay so

Judaism is matrilineal and Relius is raised by his mother and his father is a steward but doesn’t acknowledge him and he’s sort of three-times stereotyped as a bastard, an okloi, and an Outsider, barely Attolian tbh, doesn’t acknowledge the old gods or the new

and he learns how to manipulate people as a matter of survival and he thrives and there’s some kind of parallel to be made between Mordechai and Esther and Relius and Irene, I’m pretty sure--

Mordechai is the uncle of a young woman who becomes the queen of Babylon or Persia or something and he helps her get there and there’s this whole Thing where an evil advisor is going to kill the Jews and Mordechai is like “perhaps it is for this moment that you have become queen?” and Esther becomes a hero and we have a whole holiday about getting drunk and eating food in the shape of the evil guy’s hat/fingers/ears

the way he guilts Kamet in that Thick as Thieves scene. very Jewish.

the fact that he’s in love with Teleus, who is Extremely Goyish. reminds me of The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, when Sammy falls in love with a blond named Bacon. the Intellectual loves the Jock. shocking.

my god, the fact that he’s always poking his nose into other people’s business. because of national security? no. because he NEEDS to be the most well-informed gossip at Kiddush after Shabbat services. prior to her marriage, all of his reports to Irene were made over a dixie cup of wine, while clutching a plate from the buffet, looking across the room at the people they were talking about

the short velvet cape he affects even in summer? actually a tallit. Costis, too, is the most hopelessly goyishe man who’s ever existed and just forgot to mention the fringes.

he’s into history (Jews fucking love history) and astronomy (because he has that sphere thing--and you know, astronomy is useful for a lunar calendar), and he plays the flute. you know why there are no Jewish piano players? because you can’t flee the country with a piano. but a flute fits the bill.

oh man, his lessons with Pheris could be ripped straight out of any Jewish-American Eastern-European immigrant story about a cheder. Jews Love education and don’t fully give a shit about not scaring children in the process.

that’s the proof, and may I add the headcanons:

Relius enjoying a very long, leisurely meal on Friday evenings for Shabbat, drinking wine, singing/enjoying music, discussing grammar/translation, poetry, and philosophy with his dinner guests (Kamet, Gen, Irene, Pheris. Teleus and Costis mostly there for eye candy.)

Relius in the beginning of his career being more cautious, and then becoming more comfortable in his position and being like actuallyyyyy, I will keep kosher and keep the Sabbath, thanks, and if I’m a workaholic who writes spy reports on Saturdays that’s None of Your Business. I will get mad at people who expect me to work on the sabbath anyway.

got a lil silver hamsa pendant with a sapphire evil eye he wears all the time.

favorite holiday is Pesach. what can I say, Greek Jewish boy loves a symposium.

in conclusion: if you understood this post, the most niche post I have ever created in my life, please dm me so we can be friends. Relius’s Hebrew name is Reuven in honor of the fact that that would be my Hebrew name if I were a man. good night.

[jewishtwilightrenaissance]

Two Become One

Notes: Since I myself am a Jew and both the culture & faith is really important to me, I wanted to add that into the story to add some depth and something for the characters to bond over. I got really emotional about it towards the end, but hopefully it just adds to the story!

Also, this originally started as a ‘Life and Death’ fic with Billy’s female version, Bonnie Black, but I really wanted to celebrate OG Billy first. So let me know if y’all want to see that, too!

Context & Plot: The reader is in their mid-20′s and has just recently moved to Forks. By being a member of the Forks Intracommunal Committee, the reader happens to meet Billy Black, a Quileute Council member who serves on the Forks Committee with her. They strike up a friendship that soon evolves into a romance.

Word Count: 3,048

“____!” A familiar voice cut through the din of the committee, drawing your attention from your notepad. You looked up and over your shoulder to see Billy Black wheeling towards you with a bright smile on his face. “How are you?”

“Billy, hi. I’m good,” you answered. As Billy approached the table, you nudged the folding chair on your right to one side to allow enough room for his wheelchair. “Meeting’s about to start. You got here just in time.”

He hummed in response. “I had a few things to take care of back home. Namely Jacob and the other kids,” Bonnie added with a chuckle.

Somewhere in your chest, you felt a muscle tighten. You’d heard plenty about the escapades of Billy’s youngest child, a rowdy teen who just so happened to be about 10 years younger than you. That in and of itself wasn’t a bad thing, but it did remind you that you were at least 20 years out of Billy’s age range. You bit back a sigh and turned your attention back to your notepad, eyeing your hastily scribbled notes and doodles.

You and Billy exchanged a few more pleasantries before the meeting officially started a few minutes later. A few local business owners and church leaders brought up whatever it was they had to say but in all honesty, you had trouble concentrating on them with Billy sitting right next to you. It was ridiculous - you were a mature adult who had left her puberty years well behind her, but sitting next to your crush made you feel like a teenager all over again. His long hair,  dark eyes, his smile - they were all so rich and full of life, full of energy just like Billy. And like a damn prepubescent, you’d fallen for it all.

A nudge against your thigh caught your attention and you blinked yourself back to reality. Billy was leaning in your direction, one arm braced against his wheelchair, and there was a note pushed into your line of sight. ‘Today is more boring than usual. I think I caught Hank dozing off.’ You let out a quick breath through your nose and bit down on the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

Grabbing your pen, you wrote back, ‘I think I almost caught myself dozing off,’ and passed the note to Billy’s end of the table. Crush or no crush, Billy was also your best (if not only) friend in Forks and you loved the absolute hilarity of passing notes with your 40+ bestie in the middle of class a meeting.

Eventually, the meeting came to a close and it was your turn to share with the committee (and hopefully no one would be ignoring you like you had been earlier). Energy was thrumming in your fingertips as you anxiously gathered and regathered your notes and pen, 15 sets of eyes on you. You cleared your throat.

“So as I hope you all remember, Forks’ spring interfaith gathering will be in 2 weeks time on the 21st. First, I want to share how excited I am.” By now your nerves had turned to eagerness, and you rubbed your palms together with a smile. “But I also want to say thank you to everyone here for allowing me to run this event, seeing as I’m so new to the community. I especially want to thank Father Thomas, Pastor Martinez, Pastor O’Callaghan, and Billy Black for working with me and allowing me to work with their communities. It really means the world to me.

“I also have some really awesome news regarding the event. As you all know, there are no synagogues or notable Jewish communities under an hour away from Forks. But I’ve managed to reach out to a few Jews individuals and families in the county who are going to be reading some prayers and scripture with me. Other than that, I don’t have anything else to update you on. But I’m excited to see everyone there!”

Some scattered applause and supportive remarks followed your announcement before the committee leader brought the meeting to an end. After fielding a few questions about the event, most of the committee members had started to leave. Billy, you noticed, had stayed behind, as if he was waiting for you. Or so it seemed, if the curious shine in his eyes was anything to go by.

You raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Yes?”

“I received an interesting letter in the mail this morning,” Billy said, the corner of his lips twisting into a knowing smile. Your cheeks immediately flushed and you dipped your head to avoid his gaze for a moment, as if you’d been caught red-handed with your hand in the cookie jar.

“You did, huh?”

Billy laughed; music to your ears. “You really didn’t have to send me a thank you card, ____.”

You shrugged, looking up a little shyly through your eyelashes. “You’ve made me feel really welcomed here, Billy. Not just as a fellow committee member, but as a friend. Inviting me into your home, introducing me to your family, everything! It really means a lot. I-I... I just wanted to show you that I appreciate it.” And, you added to yourself, I guess it doesn’t hurt that I have feelings for you.

There was a tenderness to Billy’s eyes that made you feel some type of way. You could tell he was touched by your gesture.

“Thank you.” He backed away from the table and waited for you to follow suit. Once you had gathered your things and pushed your chair in, he started wheeling alongside you, keeping pace with your footsteps. “If your offer still stands, I’d be happy to come over tonight.”

You could’ve sworn your heart skipped a beat. When you first sent out Billy’s letter, you’d invited him to come to your place for Shabbat dinner as a way of showing your thanks and also respect for his culture by sharing yours in return. You may have also had a little bit of wine at the time and had plans on making the evening romantic-coded.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d really want to join me or not,” you said hesitantly. “But-”

“I do. Like you said, there aren’t many Jews around Forks and certainly not out in La Push. It would be good to learn more about your people and traditions, the things that are important to you.”

You caught Billy’s eyes and smiled. “Like you did with me.”

G-d, you were such a sucker for his shining eyes. Deep and dark like the forest itself, like the rocks and sand on the beaches, like rich coffee grounds at the bottom of a mug.

He nodded. “Yes.”

By now, the two of you had left the meeting room behind and were in the parking lot outside. The sun was peeking through the heavy cloud cover while a gentle misting of rain swirled in the air. You could see that Billy’s truck had been parked a few spaces away from your own.

“It’s close to 4:30,” you said after checking your phone. “I’m lighting my candles around 6 tonight. Did you want me to give you a ride to my place or would you like to come over a little later?” You’d hardly given Billy a second to think before adding, “I still have some cooking to do, but you’re more than welcome to relax while I do that.”

Billy nodded thoughtfully. “You have any beer?”

“I may have one or two cans that I saved just in case you were ever over,” you admitted.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

Shabbat evenings were always hectic for you and this night was no different. Between keeping your challah from burning, keeping an eye on the clock, ensuring the rest of the food was kept warm without overcooking, and making sure Billy felt comfortable and welcome in your home, you were sure you’d gained a few gray hairs. Luckily, though, dinner was ready at about the time the sun finally set and the twilight hour descended.

After setting the challah on your best dish (your challah board and cover was still missing in the abyss of your unopened moving boxes), serving up two plates of food and placing them just so on the table, you dug out your candlesticks and shabbos candles. Billy watched you silently as you wrapped the bottom of the candles in foil and balanced them in the candlesticks.

“The candles are meant to stay lit until they burn out,” you explained. “It’s just easier to clean up this way.”

You fidgeted with the silverware at your place setting, then the vase of flowers in the center of the table, then finally sighed and let your hands fall to your sides. You’d been so anxious about wanting to put on a good first Shabbat impression for Billy that you’d forgotten the night was meant to be enjoyable for both of you.

Billy, it seemed, had picked up on your anxious energy and kindly said, “It looks wonderful, ____.”

“Thanks.” You chewed on your bottom lip somewhat thoughtfully, giving the table a final glance over. “I suppose we should start before the food gets cold, huh?”

You pulled out your chair and settled down as Billy moved his wheelchair into the open space across the table from you, his hat placed on the couch behind him. The tiny box of matches rattled when you slipped out a match and lit it. The warm, comforting glow of the candles soon followed and you felt your anxieties dissipate in response. You circled your hands once, twice, three times over the flames, drawing their light in towards your body. You took a breath - in through your nose, out through your mouth - and let your eyes flutter closed, your hands hovering above them to block out the extra light.

“Baruch ata Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha’olam, asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav vitzivanu l’hadlik ner shel Shabbat.” Then again, in English. “Blessed are You, Adonai, Ruler of the Universe, who sanctified us with the commandment of lighting Shabbat candles.”

When you opened your eyes again, you looked across the table at Billy and saw the reflection of the candles flickering in his eyes. In that moment, bathed in holy light, he was stunning. You gasped and smiled and committed the moment to memory as he gazed back at you, wordless yet clearly moved. Your cheeks were already starting to hurt from smiling so broadly.

“Shabbat shalom, Billy,” you all but whispered.

His eyes, large and all-consuming in their beauty and warmth, drew you in. “Shabbat shalom.”

After the lighting of the candles came one of your favorite songs, the song that welcomed in peace the Sabbath angels into your home. You offered Billy a short explanation of the song’s meaning before finally singing your own rendition. He was silent the entire time and you hoped that he didn’t feel left out at all, but the emotion shining in his eyes told you that your worries were the farthest thing from the truth. Next, came Eshet Chayil, recited in English from your old siddur. And finally, Vayechulu and Kiddush.

Your voice started out as a whisper, recalling the holy memory of creation and the day of rest as first practiced by G-d Himself. Prompting Billy to repeat after you, you raised your glass of wine. “L’chaim!” There was an indescribable joy in seeing Billy participate in your culture, in hearing him say something as simple as a mere l’chaim and knowing that he honored it, respected it, and honored and respected you as well. It was because of that realization that your heart swelled with pride and tears threatened to choke your words as you finished the Kiddush blessing.

“Blessed are you, Adonai our G-d, Ruler of the Universe, who has sanctified us with his commandments and favored us. And given us in love and favor his holy Shabbat as an inheritance, as a remembrance of the act of creation.” Here your voice faltered. In the presence of someone you loved, in the presence of the Sabbath angels and even the Divine Presence itself, you felt the calling of your people. “For this day is the beginning of all holy days, a remembrance of the Exodus from Egypt. For you have chosen us and you have blessed us from among all the nations.” Indeed, you were chosen. Like those who had come before you, G-d chose you to be His, to be given the gift of His commandments. And in this moment, you were choosing to share that inheritance with Billy, to give him a window into your world to see it in beautiful detail. “And you have bequeathed us your holy Shabbat in love and favor. Blessed are you, Lord, who sanctifies Shabbat.”

Both you and Billy were left speechless once the final words of Kiddush left your lips. You felt raw and exposed, bare for Billy to see every detail, every flaw, every crease and line from your body down to your soul. Is this how he had felt when he brought you to the reservation and showed you his own traditions, welcomed you into his home and shared the stories of his people? Did he know how highly your regarded him, his people? Did he understand that you could see that same regard in his eyes as he watched you now?

Your voice cracked when you finally spoke again. “Billy.” You swallowed nervously as a number of mixed emotions began to bubble inside you. “Thank you for being here tonight.”

“It’s my honor.” His voice seemed raw.

You reached across the table with an open hand. He gently placed his hand in yours and you both smiled. “Can I tell you something?” He nodded, his eyes again catching the light of the candles. “I like you.” Cringe. “I really like you. More than a friend.” Billy remained silent, only raising his eyebrows in an entirely imperceptible expression. “I know this might be weird to you. I don’t know. And, I mean, the chance of you also being interested in me is so low. I get that. No matter what, I want to be your friend. But... but having you here tonight, after learning about you and your people, the traditions you hold dear, and after sharing my own with you, I realize that I want to share more with you.

“I want to hear more about all the trouble Jacob’s getting up to and how your daughters are doing. I want to hear more about what you have to say about the things that are important to you, even if it’s just some stupid football game.” Billy chuckled and squeezed your thumb. Your heart was pounding deep in your chest as if it were going to explode. “I see you, Billy. And I know you see me, too. And I never want to stop seeing you.”

The room was silent. So silent that it was almost uncomfortable, except for the occasional crackling of the candles. Billy, still quiet and with an unreadable expression, slipped his hand from yours and moved his wheelchair back. Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. You retracted your arm as if you’d been burnt and held it against your chest. You wanted to look away, you didn’t want to see his expression turn angry or disappointed as you were sure it would, but you also couldn’t tear your gaze from those deep, dark eyes.

“Fuck, Billy, I’m sorry.”

Your face fell into your hands. What the hell had you been thinking? What had started out as a beautiful evening was starting to go to shit all because you had to open your dumb mouth.

“____.” Billy’s voice drew you from your inner-scolding. He moved around the dinner table and came to sit beside you. “Don’t apologize.”

By this point, the several sips of wine that you had taken earlier were starting to create a buzzing sensation in your stomach. And Billy’s sudden close proximity was making the buzzing more intense. Oh no.

You felt the skin of his hand rest on your arm; he was warm. “You’re right,” he whispered. “I do see you. I always have.”

You and he had never been quite this close before. You could see in detail the creases at the corners of his eyes, the few stray hairs of his eyebrows, the stubble along his neck and chin. You wondered what aspects of your face stood out to him as his eyes flitted across your features. Billy’s smile was what finally did you in. Were you blushing? You suddenly felt very hot.

He moved his hand from your arm and pushed himself forward until his knees bumped against your chair. Turning in your seat and folding one knee under you, you were able to fully face him. Billy’s gaze dropped to your mouth and paused, and you suddenly either felt like flying or like vomiting.

“Billy?”

You couldn’t have said anything more if you wanted to. Billy leaned forward, took your chin in his hand and guided your mouth to his. Like his hands, his lips were warm. His warmth spread across your mouth and down into your chest where your heart was doing backflips. Blindly, you pawed at his arms, his jacket, trying to find something sturdy to hold onto to remind you that this was absolutely real. Billy’s hand trailed from your chin, across your jaw, and around the nape of your neck where his fingers finally curled into your hair.

A sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan escaped you and Billy swallowed it. Gently and hesitantly, you gave him a little nip on his bottom lip. His lips parted just slightly, his breath hitting your teeth, and you quickly ran your tongue along his skin. He smiled, gripped your hair a little tighter, and then pulled back.

This time when he said your name, it was sweet, reverent. “You’re certainly full of surprises,” he murmured.

You smiled breathlessly. “What can I say? I have no excuse.”

“Thank you,” he said again. “For telling me, for tonight-”

“The night’s not over yet.”

Billy smirked. “No. No, it’s not.”

[dangerousanddisquieting]

Andrew finding religion post-The King’s Men

Part 2 of the most self-indulgent headcanon I’ve ever written (Part 1 is here). tl;dr: Neil found religion and converted to Judaism after TKM and now it’s Andrew’s turn. Details under the cut

Neil has of course talked about the implications of his conversion but he never really got into theology with Andrew

At one point Neil invites Andrew to a function to invite him into this new community he’s been getting to know

(in my head it’s a Shabbat dinner but also: inviting Andrew to Purim is a good concept)

Neil is secretly terrified about bringing his boyfriend to the synagogue but aside from a few side-eyes from a group of old people Neil didn’t like anyway, they both feel totally welcome

Andrew is really quiet and keeps looking around at the building the whole time, which Neil assumes is him wanting to leave but every time he checks in Andrew says he wants to stay

Andrew goes to the bathroom at one point and when he comes back Neil sees him start talking to Rabbi Hannah and Neil keeps nervously glancing at them

He’s convinced this is gonna go so badly

But later when he mentions Andrew to the Rabbi her eyes light up and she goes “oh! Andrew is lovely! You two are a wonderful couple”

Neil is FLOORED

He knows she’s nice but no one is that nice what happened

Neil doesn’t think Andrew had a good time so next week he starts getting ready to go without saying anything

Andrew walks up and starts putting his boots on

“Where are you going, Drew?”

“Aren’t we going to dinner?”

Neil always walks to shul and having Andrew with him makes it feel like no time at all

Andrew is always relatively quiet, but the people who know Neil are very receptive to Andrew and they all really like him somehow

Neil is so confused

Since when does a group of people all naturally like Andrew like this

Every time he splits off and talks to Rabbi Hannah for a bit just out of earshot of Neil

One day when Neil is getting ready for shul, Andrew shows up at the door, ready to leave

Neil doesn’t have to ask where he’s going this time

Andrew doesn’t put on a kippa but Neil remembers his own reaction the first time he wore one and doesn’t say anything about it

At this point Neil knows a bit of the prayers and can follow the services almost seamlessly

Andrew makes no effort to grab a Siddur but when Neil opens his, Andrew peeks over his shoulder and his eyes scan feverishly over the Hebrew in a way that almost makes Neil think he can read it

But when the chanting starts, Andrew has his eyes on Neil’s lips the entire time

He goes back the next week and watches Neil’s mouth as he sings again

Eventually he starts whispering along, mostly incorrectly but Neil can tell he’s trying to follow

Next service Neil holds his siddur where Andrew can see it

Eventually Andrew asks Neil if he has time to talk to Rabbi Hannah with him and Neil says yes

He doesn’t pry but assumes it’s something about services

They show up and Rabbi Hannah greets Andrew with warmth that Neil doesn’t usually associate with people greeting Andrew

Turns out he’s been talking about Judaism (among more casual things) with Rabbi Hannah at the weekly dinners and they both have been talking for a while about Andrew’s conversion

Andrew wanted to meet with Neil before he committed fully to converting

Neil is stunned

They had never talked about this and Neil asks him why, since Andrew doesn’t seem like the most pious man

Andrew shrugs

“I’d put money on having the same reasons as you,” he says

Neil remembers the childhood nagging that he had never felt safe enough to explore, the comfort in the idea of something intangible and eternal holding everything in the world together, the call to action, the sense of his community that he couldn’t put into words, and the deep, resonant feeling of love and safety

Andrew’s hand was resting on his chest after scratching his shoulder

“It fills something up in here” he says and taps his first two fingers on his breastbone

Neil has never heard Andrew talk about emotion and spirituality like this before

He doesn’t know where it came from

He doesn’t think Andrew knows either

The two just know that both of them converting feels so right in a way that they can’t imagine living without

The Foxes, again, are all supportive (they do think it’s kind of weird and funny that Andrew of all people is religious now, but they know how much he and Neil went through, so they know they’re in no place to judge)

When Renee finds out she practically foams at the mouth

The three of them still have fun zombie apocalypse scenario debates at practice, as theology would be too involved for casual mid-practice chats, but now Renee can have theological debates with two people? She’s in heaven (no pun intended)

Andrew is muuuch more cutthroat about it than Neil

He will cut straight to the point about fallacies in Christianity

Neil thinks this will be the thing that splits Andrew and Renee up but thank G-d Renee has thick skin from Andrew by now and isn’t afraid to fire back

She’s gentler with Neil because they both are more softly religious, but when Andrew starts his conversion studies he is not afraid to use them at full power

Neil teaches Andrew what he knows and they both work with Rabbi Hannah, sometimes together and sometimes alone

Being together on this path brings both of them so much joy

Book discussions by the light of a single lamp in hushed tones while people sleep in neighboring rooms, sleepy pillow talk bleeding into awe of and love for Hashem, asking the tough questions and knowing they won’t get answers and that that’s not only okay, but encouraged

Andreil keeping a kosher kitchen

Andreil baking challah together

Andreil going to Shabbat dinners and celebrating holidays together

Andreil getting married under a chuppah

Andreil finally able to find some sort of peace through religion

Andrew finally able to find peace

[wlwkiranerys]

sisko for the character thing!!

thank you <3 sisko i love you second fav ds9 character Sexuality Headcanon: he is straight to me :) Gender Headcanon: trans sisko was a headcanon i saw once and i’ve never gone back  A ship I have with said character: kasiday. the first ever canon trek relationship i geuienly loved. they’re just so sweet? the way that sisko after years moves on and enters another relationship <3 and the way they met..was so cute?? <33 theyre both good parents, both good people who deserve eachother and i love them so much. i love that she cares about him, he cares about her. i love that jake grows to love kasiday almost like a mom, and their kid they're having will have the most happy supportive family <3 my only issue with them is that there wasnt enough, deserved more screentime. A BROTP I have with said character: okay everyone?? like i talked about him and kira so i won’t talk about them. but i’ll talk about him and jadzia. I LOVE THEM. i love that he calls her old man, that after not seeing eachother since curzon died they still are just as close, even closer. i love how you can tell they have such a long friendship and it is so so good. also i could talk about how much i love his relationship with jake, how it such a good father son relationship, but i don’t want to cry writing this so i’ll hold off <3 A NOTP I have with said character: i dont have one A random headcanon:  we all know he can cook and he’s great at it, and we saw him make a dinner for the crew once, you can’t convince me every Shabbat (Sisko is Jewish <3 i guess that counts as a headcanon) that he doesn’t just go all out, he makes the best challah, he invites people over even if they dont practice it, and it is everything like Shabbat should be <3 a time for family for rest just..he loves shabbat and tries to practice it even during the war time also love the idea that sisko only cares about baseball and if you talk to him about any other sport he loses interest. baseball is his favourite and he cares about it enough that he never need learn another sport <3 General Opinion over said character: g-d i love him i love him. i love that he is both a captain and a dad, that he is such a good and proud dad, that he loves Jake so openly and it is so good, maybe the best father son relationship in anything in any media i consumed. i love that he wants to help people and do good and if it means sometimes he has to break Starfleet protocol he will, he doesn't do it lightly, but he will because for him doing good, is something that matters the most to him. I love how passionate he is, about cooking, about his family, about everything. he loves so openly and it is so clear that he loves so deeply. I love that he becomes like family to his crew. I love that he cooks for them. I love that he plays baseball with them. I love that he is such a nuanced character, such a good person, I just..love him... <3 he makes me happy to think abt <3 i also love his relationship with the Prophets, i love him being the Emissary of the Prophets and how his relationship to the role changes over time and its such a complex thing in its own right (and i love how jewish it all is..<3) i just.. best captain (well i guess tied with michael now <3)

[strawberrymeriadoc]

Merry took a shower, ate dinner, and sat on his bed. He was hoping Pippin would be back soon. His brain was definitely done in for the day and he needed a distraction from the severe pain in his throat. And besides, he missed Pippin. Merry stood up to do a few stretches. Peony came into the room and jumped on his bed. Merry was excited to see Eowyn the next day. And then it would finally be Shabbat and he could rest. Just then, Merry heard the front door open. He thought about giving Pippin a moment to get settled in, but he couldn’t resist coming into the living room to say hello. He hoped it wouldn’t bother Pippin. 

[Pippin was putting his things down and just about to get settled on the couch when Merry came into the room.

“Hello, Merry! Good to see you.”

“Hi, Pippin!”

“You know I ran into Eowyn on the way home, I didn’t realize she lived in the same neighborhood.”

“Yeah, she lives on the other side of the green line station”

“Ok, that makes sense, that’s about where we parted ways”

Pippin sat down on the couch, Merry leaned against the door jamb.

“I got groceries today. I noticed we were out of a few things we share like eggs and butter,” Merry said.

“Oh, thanks for thinking of that! Want me to pay you back?”

“No, no, don’t worry about it, it wasn’t too expensive”

“I’ll get them next time then”

“Sure!”

There was a silence. Peony walked into the room and made a big show of stretching her legs. Then she went over to inspect Pippin. “Oh! I’ve got a video of Gandalf exploding more things. He got mad at me for having my phone out though so I just have the one today” Merry sat down next to him on the couch to watch. The two sat like that for a while, telling each other about their day.

“Sorry to hear your throat still hurts,” Pippin said.

“Yeah, it sounds like there’s a good three or four separate but now interrelated things that are wrong with it so it’s going to take a long time to get better I think. And who needs this now when I’m already so stressed and school’s about to start”

“It’ll be ok, sounds like you need to rest and have some patience with it”

“I know, I know…”

“Well no I don’t mean to sound judgemental or anything”

“No, you’re right. I just. Wish these kinds of things would stop happening to me. The stress gets to be too much and it always manifests as some obscure thing wrong with my body. It feels really unnecessary”

Pippin thought for a moment. “Anything I can do to help with your stress?” Merry was taken aback. “Oh thank you, Pippin. I’m not really sure...I don’t even really understand what it is that is stressing me out...can I tell you about what I think it might be?”

“Of course”

“Well, I’m nervous about starting school. I haven’t been to school in a long time. Or, at least, it feels like a long time. I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it again. I haven’t really been interacting with that many people in the last few years. I can’t handle being called “she” again or my deadname. I know I’ve told everyone I’m working with in my department, but a few people have already slipped up in person and in email and I just can’t take it again. It’s a little easier to handle in other scenarios but with school...it feels like it should be comfortable. Like my home. That I should trust these people in particular. But to have to be reminded again and again how I’m not really who I think I am or at least that’s not how many people see me…” Merry looked out the window. It was almost completely dark. The black buildings were surrounded by a deep indigo sky. A lamp lit up a patch of the street.

“Also...I don’t know if I can handle the workload again,” he continued. “I just...college was hard enough. What if I’m not organized enough? What if my depression gets worse and I can’t keep up with assignments plus staying on top of life things that really stress me out? I want to work with Boromir and I want to take classes again, but I’m scared it’ll be more bad than good, and that I’m walking into a trap I still have a bit of a chance to get out of.”

Merry stopped. He didn’t want to spin out into anxiety and he certainly didn’t want to try Pippin’s patience. Pippin had been listening carefully to all this. He hadn’t thought about how not everyone would be up on Merry’s name and pronouns even though he had already told them. It’s really not that hard people, he thought. And about the workload and depression--Pippin shared many of the same concerns. He wasn’t sure how reassuring he could be because he felt the same way.

“Hey, I love you. And you’re going to get through this. You’re very strong. You're the strongest person I know. And I know you can handle whatever this school year throws at you. And if...not if, when you need assistance, please ask me. I want to be there for you and make sure you’re doing ok. In terms of your workload and depression issues, I feel much the same way except about my anxiety. I wonder if there’s anything we can do to alleviate our stress for both?”

Merry thought hard about this. He thought of having a meditation night. No, that’s a stupid idea. He thought about something more community-care related but couldn’t think of anything specific. The idea was still so new to him. He thought about fixing their sleep schedules together but realized that was something he should do on his own and had nothing to do with Pippin. He really didn’t know what to do.

“Thank you, Pip. I’m trying to think of a way we could both help each other but I’m coming up blank...outside of what we already do for each other anyway...there’s this thing, it’s probably stupid, that Jamie and I used to do...it’s called “connect” and basically you make eye contact while telling each other whatever you want. It can even be things you’re mad at each other about. You set a timer for ten minutes and once it goes off you switch to the other person. And the second person can’t use their time to respond to what the first one said, but just brings up their own things that have been bothering them. Certainly school stresses is something we could talk about. Or anything else really.” Pippin doesn’t want your stupid failed marriage tips, he berated himself.

Merry flinched as Pippin began to speak. “We could try it,” he said thoughtfully, “Though if it’s something you used to do with Jamie, maybe it’d bring up bad memories.” Merry hadn’t really thought of that and it certainly seemed possible. “I don’t mind working through the memories,” he said, “but probably a good idea to think of something else anyway.” Pippin’s eyes flashed. “Let’s have a code word for when things are really tough and it means something that we set up ahead of time! Like, ‘I need a hug’ or ‘come wrap me in a blanket’ or ‘can I have some tea’” He looked to Merry for approval. “That’s a lovely idea!” Merry exclaimed, “I think we should have a couple different ones so we have options. They can even also be emojis on our phones.” “Yeah!” agreed with his companion.

Then the two set to making their short list of codes. Merry wanted the sloth emoji or the spoken word “sloth” to mean he needed Pippin to sit next to him and put his arm around him. An owl emoji or the word itself meant he wanted Pippin to come to him and tell him about something relatively calm. Pippin wanted Merry to wrap him in a blanket and make him tea if he sent a gecko emoji or said the word. “We really ought to have an option for if one of us isn’t up for it,” said Merry. “Or if one isn’t home,” added Pippin.

“Maybe a green heart for ‘I can’t right now’?”

“Sure...and maybe if we’re not around, we could call or send each other something.”

“Oh the owl talking one could still work, you could just call or tell me about something over text”

“Yeah. And I guess for me, if you want to send me memes that would be cool.”

“Sure! Gonna have to work on my meme stash then,” Merry laughed.

Merry and Pippin felt a little better and like they had some more control in their lives. Then Pippin remembered Merry’s other concern. “Oh, if there’s anything I can do on the name and pronouns let me know. I’ll try to go out of my way to use your pronouns with people at least. And of course correct anyone,” he said. “Thanks, Pippin,” responded Merry giving a faint but genuine smile.

“Can I have a hug?” he asked weakly. Pippin responded by putting his arms around him, resting his head on Merry’s shoulder. Merry hugged him back, hiding his face in Pippin’s chest. He felt so safe here. He became aware of how shallow and quick his breaths were and took a deep breath from the stomach. Then Pippin leaned away slightly and gave him a kiss on the forehead, coming in slowly enough that Merry could give a quick nod of approval first. Merry felt warm inside. Pippin then rested his forehead on Merry’s and the two sat like that for a few moments with their eyes closed.

Pippin loved kissing Merry. And he loved being this close to him. It felt right and he felt less at sea in life. For the time being he felt confident and self-assured. Merry needed him. Merry loved him. And he loved Merry very much and wanted to look out for him.

“You know...I’ve never kissed a boy before. I’ve wanted to for a long time but…” he trailed off. Merry said nothing but hugged him tighter in response. “I never came out as gay. I was too scared to know what my parents would think and I was afraid of being kicked out. My family is adventurous in a lot of ways but when it comes to relationships, they’re very traditional. A cousin of mine came out once when I was a little kid and was never accepted into the family the same way again.” “I’m so sorry, Pippin,” Merry said, “I’m sorry you never got to kiss a boy before. That’s really not fair. And it’s scary that you saw how your cousin was treated and it was so bad…Is there anything I can do to help or make you feel better?” “What, by kissing me more?” Pippin laughed. “But seriously, maybe. You know a lot more about the queer community and have been out for a few years. Maybe you can just...help me out? I don’t even know where to start.” “Of course, I’d love to!” Merry exclaimed.

Merry thought about how much Pippin must have been struggling with his identity for years. And how he still was. He felt guilty that his companion’s first kiss with a man was with a trans man. Not a real man, he thought. I’m contributing to his internalized homophobia. He’s just kissing a spicy woman and this is the closest he can get to what he really wants.

“I’m sorry your first kiss was with me,” he continued, “that hardly counts. If you want to be with someone else I’d understand. I don’t want to hold you back from what you want or from being yourself.” I don’t want to be a crutch for you. “What on Middle Earth are you talking about?” Pippin asked. “I--I’m just a trans man,” Merry sputtered, “not a real man. I don’t want your first experience to be with me, I’m just a spicy girl. I’m contributing to your internalized homophobia…” It pained Pippin to hear his companion talk about himself in such a way. “I don’t think you’re fake! I understand that you are a real man,” Pippin argued. No, you don’t, and if you do you shouldn’t, Merry thought. But he had learned lately not to tell other people what they were thinking, even if he thought he was only hurting himself through it. “Thanks,” he said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made this about me.” “It’s important,” Pippin replied. After some silence Merry added: “You know, kissing a boy as a boy feels very different, and much better, than kissing a boy as a straight girl.” He gave Pippin a smile. “So, in a way, you’re my first too.”

[otterknowbynow]

Will Break for Food

Hunk and Lance go on a post-curfew kitchen excursion that leads to some eating and some thinking and some talking. 

also on ao3

It’s a terrible idea, sneaking into the kitchens. Cadets aren’t allowed to just have free access to the food stores, let alone industrial-size appliances, which -- if Lance is honest with himself -- feels reasonable, considering the caliber of kids he’s met here already. Platt and Harper would have a field day, and he’s not sure much of anything would survive if Griffin stopped flexing long enough to try to light a stove. Hunk would at least -- probably -- know what he was doing, but it’s still a terrible idea. 

“What if we get caught? I’m not getting chewed out by Iverson just because you wanted to make a sandwich!” 

“Sandwiches are obviously not on the menu for the homesick and decent-meal-deprived,” Hunk says dismissively. 

“Well, then what are we making?” He can’t resist asking. The answer won’t make a difference, he’s decided. It shouldn’t make a difference. It doesn’t matter that asking made Hunk’s entire face light up. He’s not breaking the fundamental rule of being a decent cadet his third week. He’s not doing it. That’s one way to guarantee he’ll never be a fighter pilot -- he’ll be stuck in cargo for life. But he won’t pretend he’s not curious, and he’s even more curious when Hunk ducks under his bed and pulls out a plastic container, the lid of which he whips off with a flourish. 

“We’re making ramen!” His expression is positively giddy; Lance can hardly stand it.

“Ramen? That’s your brilliant idea for a meal that’s better than what they throw us in the mess?” 

“Real ramen, Lance, not with those mysterious flavor powders you get in the little plastic-wrapped blocks.” Lance looks in the tupperware and has to admit this looks a lot more complicated than the packets he generally associates with the word. It doesn’t matter. This isn’t happening. 

“I’m not sneaking out after curfew, breaking into the kitchen of all places, and risking being yelled at, suspended, thrown off the waitlist for fighter track --” 

“--Now, come on, they wouldn’t do that.” Hunk interrupts, his face softening. “Is that what you’re worried about?” 

“I’m not worried,” Lance says, sarcasm creeping into his voice and settling in like a cat jumping into a familiar lap. “I’m being realistic. They’re not just gonna say, ‘oh, good job boys, that’s some choice ramen!’” 

“You don’t technically know that; my culinary skills are incredible.” 

“According to who exactly?” 

“Well, my mom, at least.” Hunk grabs the back of his neck self-consciously. “But, the point stands! She has excellent taste.” 

“Hunk --” Lance starts again, but Hunk cuts him off. 

“Please?” he asks, his eyes going wide. Lance suddenly finds himself unable to meet them, and looks down instead, ignoring the swooping feeling in his stomach. Maybe he’s hungrier than he thought he was. 

“I just don’t think we should be breaking rules when we’ve just gotten here,” he mumbles at the floor.

“Lance, I miss cooking. I miss my family. I miss home.” The pleading in his voice cuts straight into his heart, and Lance feels his resolve break all at once.

“Fine,” he says, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “But only because I just realized I’m starving. And if we get caught, I’m telling Iverson you hypnotized me.” It doesn’t even feel like a lie. 

--

“I can’t believe they don’t bother locking the doors,” Lance whispers, following Hunk through as the entrance slides open. The doors lead to easily the largest kitchen he’s ever seen, and his family’s kitchen back home is no slouch, full of butcher-block counters and a massive farmhouse table. There’s a lot less wood in here -- everything is gleaming stainless steel -- which makes it feel remarkably cold. Lance is suddenly glad this plan involves soup. 

“What? Of course they lock them,” Hunk says incredulously. “Why did you think I brought this?” He holds up something that looks a lot like a graphing calculator. 

“Uh...because you’re a nerd?” Lance offers, raising his eyebrows.

“No --” Hunk stops suddenly and frowns. “I mean, well, yes, technically, but the kind of nerd that knows how to make a door...unlocked.”  

"How long have you been planning this?" 

"Since like last Thursday," he says, shrugging.

"Hang on --" Lance holds up a hand, feeling his eyebrows stretch up to his hairline. "-- you've been homesick enough to consider midnight kitchen escapades for a week already? Hunk, that was after like...two weeks of being away from home!" 

"I know," Hunk says, his shoulders slumping a little. "Seems like it doesn't take that much, I just...love my family, y'know?"

Lance swallows a sarcastic "that's one way of putting it, I guess," and lets the breath he'd taken in for it come out as a sigh. 

"I do know," he says instead, the sarcasm cat apparently leaving him to embarrass himself. He's looking at the floor again -- tiles this time, as opposed to the carpet in their dorm room. "My family's close, too -- emotionally, I mean. I miss the fields, too, and the animals...deserts are cool, and all, I guess, but nothing normal grows here." He clamps his mouth shut, his lips together extra tight to keep the words from escaping any more. He did not sneak out after curfew with a kid he's known less than a month to get made fun of for talking about feelings. 

"It only took me a week before I cried the first time," Hunk says quietly, and Lance looks up at him, surprised. This time he doesn’t even think of a sarcastic response; the sincerity is too jarring.

“Huh?” It’s all he can muster, but it’s enough that Hunk goes on. 

“It’s not being away from them a week, like, obviously I’ve been away from my family for a week before, but it’s just -- thinking about all of it. Like, how home will always be home, but how it also never really will be again.” He shrugs, and Lance nods absently, but a moment later what Hunk’s just said hits him and he breathes in sharply. 

“Oh, wow, I hadn’t thought about it that way,” he says, suddenly very aware of his heartbeat, which seems a bit too quick for standing still in the middle of a dark kitchen, even with the adrenaline of rule-breaking and risk. It never really will be again. Of course the farm is still home, to an extent, and his avuela’s little house in Varadero is still home, to an extent, but the main thing that’s always defined home for him is wherever his family is. When his older siblings went off to visit Dad in the summers and he was left behind with Mama, it never felt quite like home until they were back. When the others moved out and Marco and Luis started their own families, it was weird, but they were still nearby, and they came over more evenings than they didn’t. If he thinks about it, the weirdest was definitely when Veronica left and was suddenly missing from Shabbat dinners, except when she was home on breaks. That’s him now, he realizes. No wonder he was willing to break into the kitchens with Hunk on a Friday night. 

“Lance, buddy, you okay?” Hunk’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and he nods, probably a few times too many. 

“I’m good, I’m good,” he says, still nodding a bit. “Let’s -- let’s make some ramen.” Hunk grins at him and moves to put the container he brought from their room on the enormous stainless steel island in the middle of the room. 

“Alright, now I know we can’t do a stock from scratch, but the stock cubes my mom gets are the best, and I slipped a few into my bag before I left home -- you never know when you’ll need a burst of flavor, right? Especially with cafeteria food. They’re chicken; don’t worry. All the rest of this okay for you?” He’s moving rapidly, setting out different smaller containers that were inside the one big one he brought. There’s a tupperware of tiny foil-wrapped cubes, a couple packages of noodles, and a bag of paper-thin, pink-tinged flakes of some kind. Lance isn’t sure what those last things are, but there’s a hechsher on the corner of the bag, so he shrugs. 

“Sure.” 

“Excellent,” Hunk says. “Hey -- can you check the fridge and see what they have in the way of veggies? We’re gonna have to improvise a bit.”

“You don’t think they’ll notice if we take all the onions?” Lance asks, feeling the panic rise a bit in him again. 

“We’re not going to take all of them,” Hunk says reassuringly, pulling a cutting board and a knife from the counter next to the sink and bringing them over to the island where he seems to be setting up a prep station. “Just, like, one. See if there are any green onions or carrots or -- you know, whatever looks good.” Lance shakes his head and moves to the line of big industrial fridges, bracing himself for the noise of the seal releasing when he moves the lever on the first one to open it. Any noise the fridge makes is completely overshadowed by a series of incredibly loud clanging sounds from behind him, though, and he whips around to see Hunk holding a giant stock pot and looking a bit sheepish. 

“It was on the bottom,” he says apologetically.

“Shit, Hunk, we don’t need the entire building to know we’re in here!” Lance remembers to keep his voice to a whisper, but it’s a close thing. He holds up a hand so Hunk won’t move and listens carefully, but all he can hear is the hum of the fridges and his own breathing, which has sped up to what strikes him as a totally unnecessary rate. He forces it to slow down and lowers his hand slowly.

“Sorry,” Hunk mouths at him silently, and starts to move toward the stove. Lance takes a deep breath and turns back to the fridge, hoping there’s something there that makes this worth the trouble. 

--

Twenty minutes later, they’ve managed to assemble what smells -- to Lance at least -- like an absolutely delicious soup. His stomach is growling loudly enough that he’s pretty sure it may wake some of the instructors on its own, never mind the avalanche of pots earlier or Hunk ripping open the noodles now. 

“Grab us a couple bowls?” Hunk says, dropping the noodles into the pot gently and grabbing the paddle he’s been using to stir them in. Lance nods and scans the back wall to try to figure out where the dishes must be. He’s settled on a likely-seeming alcove when he hears someone laugh loudly and freezes. 

“Did you --” he starts, and Hunk nods emphatically, eyes wide, his arm still stirring the pot automatically, though he seems to have forgotten that’s what he’s doing. Lance gulps. Now that he’s listening more carefully, he can hear the murmur of voices from somewhere nearby. He moves softly toward the door back to the hallway, ears as alert as they’ve ever been. There’s a sudden burst of laughter again, shared between at least two people. It’s cut off suddenly by a loud shushing sound, and the voices are near enough now that Lance can make out what they’re saying. 

“Do you want Iverson to catch us? God, Griff.” Oh, man, Lance thinks, if James Griffin is really out there, now would be a chance to get in good with him, convince him he’s a worthwhile guy to get to know. He wishes he weren’t so tired and so hungry -- he probably doesn’t have the brainpower right now to manage anything nearing cool, considering sarcasm has thoroughly abandoned him already. 

“Come on, what’s he going to do? Kick us out? Hate to break it to you, but I’ve got the top GPA in this place. They’re not gonna touch me.” That’s Griffin’s voice, alright. Lance raises his eyebrows and turns to look at Hunk, who has put the paddle down and turned the heat off on the stove, wiping his hands on a towel he has tucked into his belt. Hunk frowns, shakes his head slightly, as if to say “not worth it.” Lance turns back to the door and sighs, realizing as he does that he’s been holding his breath for what must’ve been nearly a minute, listening. 

“Hey, what’s that smell?” That’s Harper, Lance is sure, which means it’s probably all three of them, getting up to some midnight trio shenanigans. Weirdly, he doesn’t envy them nearly as much as he would have a week ago, before he got to know Hunk, and certainly before they broke into the kitchen in the middle of the night to make ramen, which, he realizes now, is exactly what Harper’s smelling. He bites back a yelp at this realization and sets his jaw. Hopefully they’ll all just...move on. 

“I don’t know, Harp, Kogane’s grandma’s house?” And yep, there she is. Platt's presence also confirmed. 

“What? You know Kogane doesn’t know his grandma.” All three of them dissolve into snickers at that, and Lance blanches. Keith Kogane might be arrogant and snobby as hell, but he doesn't deserve that. He's glad on a certain level, though, that they seem to have dropped the idea of investigating. Their laughter and voices fade away as they continue down the hall toward the cadets' quarters, and Lance feels his heart rate start to return to normal. Hunk, behind him, clears his throat, and Lance turns around. 

"You know, I really don't understand why you even try to hang out with them," Hunk says softly. 

"What, you think I'm not good enough for them?" he hears his own voice snap angrily before he can stop himself. So much for late-night lack of filters being maybe a good thing. Now Hunk is telling him he doesn't deserve to be respected and looked up to like those three? He can feel his eyes burning and tells himself it's because he's tired. "Like, I know I'm not --"

"What? No." Hunk looks absolutely baffled. "Good enough for Griffin? For Griffin?" He seems to have forgotten they're breaking at least four different rules and curfew, his voice rising. "Lance, that's the most absurd thing I've ever heard you say, and you manage to pack them in, buddy." This is the first time Lance has heard anything like bitterness in Hunk's voice, and it throws him. 

"What do you mean?" he asks, the anger draining out of him. 

"I mean," Hunk says, deliberately, crossing the room so they're standing eye to eye and lowering his voice again. "They're not worth it. Like, sure, they're popular, and they’ve got top marks, or whatever, but they're assholes. You want to be an asshole? Is that what you want? Because getting in good with assholes is how you turn into an asshole." 

Hunk's right, of course. They are assholes, all three of them, but the relative kindness of a person has never really been part of his criteria. His survival strategy has been the same since he was thrown into a new country as a ten-year-old with nothing going for him but decent swimming skills and a tourist industry English vocabulary. 

“Maybe I already am an asshole,” he says, more sincerely than he means to.

“I mean, sometimes!” Hunk says, throwing his hands wide. “We all are, sometimes, but that’s no reason to just lean into it.” 

“You’re never an asshole,” he says sullenly, back to staring at the floor.

“I’m -- that’s not true, but we don’t have to get into that right now.”

“I just want people to like me,” he mutters, still not looking up. He can feel tears pricking the back of his eyes, and it’s easier if he doesn’t have to see Hunk’s face. It’s such a simple want, after all, and yet one he's had to work so hard to try to fulfill. Join team sports, crack the jokes, keep an air of detached irony at all times, and maybe -- just maybe -- people will fold him in as one of the cool kids, not notice that he’s dragging behind in class. He's starting to think that's not the same thing as liking him, though.

“Maybe try listening to people who aren’t assholes, then?” He looks up to see Hunk smiling ruefully at him. 

“That's a thought," Lance admits, and his vision blurs. He blinks rapidly. He will not cry in the mess kitchen at one in the morning. He will not -- before he can finish the thought a second time, Hunk closes the distance between them and hugs him, really hugs him, not like the perfunctory hugs he gives to his tias when they're in for a visit over the high holidays. He breathes in sharply and feels his whole body tense, startled, and Hunk lets go of him immediately. 

"Sorry," he says, hunching his shoulders a bit. "I didn't mean to --"

"No, that's okay," Lance says, a bit surprised that it is, actually. He laughs, which is kind of a relief since he much prefers it to crying. "I'm just not, uh, used to it. You should warn me when you're going off-script like that." 

"You're not used to hugs? Or not used to hugs from me? Because I totally get not wanting to hug a stranger -- not that we're strangers, but you know, you've only known me a couple weeks, might be weird, you know --" Hunk trails off helplessly, his hand gripping the back of his neck, eyes looking somewhere over Lance’s shoulder. 

“Uh, in general,” Lance says, and it’s his turn to hunch his shoulders, sticking his hands in his pockets for lack of a better place to put them. “My mom’s the only hugger in my family, really, and I haven’t seen her in awhile, so.” He doesn’t mean for that to come out nearly as bitterly as it does. He winces, looks back at Hunk to see him standing with his arms open. 

“Buddy, if you need one -- oof.” Hugs are nice, he realizes, when they’re not being demanded by relatives you hardly see, whose primary purpose in visiting seems to be to comment about how tall you’ve grown, “and yet still so skinny! Are you feeding him enough, Marlinda?” Oh, thinking about his mom right now is not a good call if he wants to keep the tears from coming back, he realizes, and steps back out of Hunk’s arms, dashing the sleeve of his jacket across his eyes before Hunk can say anything about it. 

“So how about that ramen?” He manages casual as a tone, which is not bad, all things considered. 

“Oh, yeah! Bowls?” Hunk walks back over to the pot and Lance meets him there with two bowls from the back alcove. They’re a bit shallow, in that weird shape of cafeteria bowls everywhere that’s somehow not great for cereal and soup or for pasta, but they’ll get the job done. Hunk ladles noodles and broth into both, with some onion and a bit of wilted spinach they were pretty sure no one would miss. He tops each bowl with half an egg he boiled earlier and offers one to Lance, who looks down at it and frowns. 

“Uh, Hunk? How are we supposed to eat this? I’m pretty sure the caf doesn’t have chopsticks.” 

“Oh, it doesn’t,” Hunk says lightly. “But I do.” He goes back to the container on the counter and pulls out two pairs, handing one to Lance.

“Wow, you are a nerd,” he says, laughing. There’s nowhere to eat but the floor, and Lance is suddenly glad for all the cleaning details cadets get put on, since it’s probably been bleached in the last six hours or so. The two of them settle with their backs against the counter, and for a couple of minutes the kitchen is silent apart from the slurping of noodles and the clinking of chopsticks against bowls. 

The ramen is cool enough by now that Lance can eat it quickly, and it’s absolutely bananas how delicious it is. He guesses he shouldn’t be surprised that packages don’t measure up to the real thing, but the real thing isn’t usually an option.  

“Wow, Hunk,” he says when he can stop to take a breath. “This is something else.” 

“It’s taking you on a journey, huh,” Hunk says, nodding. “Best food does.” 

“A journey to deliciousville,” he says. “To tasty town, to flavor planet --” 

“-- Alright, buddy, I get it.” He’s laughing now, a little bit, but Lance needs to be sure he understands. 

“I don’t know if you do? But if I keep trying to explain, that’s going to keep me from eating it, and that is...Unacceptable.” He looks over at Hunk as he goes back to his bowl to see his roommate smiling down at his own food, his whole face almost glowing with pride. “I mean that,” he adds quietly. “This is, like, really good.” 

“Thanks.” 

It’s gone in minutes, and the empty bowls make him feel almost wistful, but he realizes as he carries them over to the sink to wash them that he’s also horrendously thirsty. 

“Hey, Hunk --” He turns, only to see there’s already a glass of water being offered to him. “Oh, thanks.” Hunk nods, drinking his own water before they both move to clean up. The good news is Hunk at least has been assigned enough cleaning details that he’s mercilessly efficient. It seems like it comes with the territory of having an often-turbulent stomach. Although if he’s used to food like this, Lance thinks, it makes a bit more sense that the commissary stuff doesn’t exactly treat him right. 

--

“I can’t believe you have a homemade mac and cheese recipe and you didn’t go with that for this whole stunt,” Lance whispers, trying to keep from laughing as they sneak back toward their quarters. Hunk’s container is full of leftover ramen now, and Lance is just hoping it’ll fit in their mini-fridge without a problem. 

“I mean, would you have been nearly as impressed if I’d made something that simple?” Hunk asks him with a grin, nudging their door open with his shoulder. 

“Honestly? I’m a simple man, Hunk,” He grabs Hunks shoulder and throws his other arm wide gesturing at their room as a whole. “Show me a big bowl of carbs and cheese, and I’m happy.” 

“We can always make it next Friday,” Hunk says, shrugging. Lance laughs and shakes his head, dropping his arm. 

“Right, sure, we’re definitely doing this again.” The sarcasm cat is back, thankfully, and he can’t resist adding -- “because we didn’t come close enough to giving us both full-blown panic attacks already.” 

But despite his claims, it becomes something of a ritual before long, to the point where Lance will come back from service on Friday night, change into jeans instead of pajamas, and read comics for maybe five minutes before Hunk looks over at him. 

“Still homesick?” He asks, every time, without fail. 

“I mean, kind of,” Lance says, frowning. “Not like, really homesick, I’m not a baby about it or anything.” 

But Hunk gives him that look, eyes wide, pointedly hopeful, and he knows that even if he wanted to say no, he’s not entirely sure he could. And every time he sees it he sighs, puts down whatever issue he’s reading. 

“If Iverson catches us, I’m blaming you.” 

[babbushka]

Is it weird that whenever I imagine Flip in any scenario I can’t think of anybody else but you as his s/o, my brain just goes “no he’s Zannahs you can’t have him” and that’s both frustrating but also so endearing because I just wanna be y’all’s neighbour or niece or something

Oh this is so very sweet of you to say my dear anon :,,) I just love my Phil so much lol I’m sorry that I’ve accidentally done this to you! 

I do want to say though, that I of course don’t own any one character or anything like that. I don’t want folks to ever get the impression that people aren’t allowed to write about Flip just because I write about him! I write about him in a very specific context, that’s true, but that certainly doesn’t mean that other authors can’t write about him in their own context. Everyone can love and appreciate our Big Jewish Handsome Detective!

Anyway I just love him a whole bunch lol, you’re more than welcome to be our neighbor except we live in the mountains so you might have to live a few minutes away lol (you’re still more than welcome to come over for Shabbat dinner!)

[thisolddag]

Our Family Unplugged For 24 Hours. Here’s What Happened.

Back in September, our thirteen-year-old son finally got his own room. We converted the playroom by dragging in his bed and desk from the room he used to share with his little brother. The new “bedroom” still has bins of Legos and Thomas trains and action figures hidden in drawers, and it’s still painted a cheery bright teal, and he let me keep yesteryear scribbly artwork up, and it doesn’t quite fit his current cool, detached teenager image - but it’s got a TV and it is His Own Personal Space. 

From which he hardly ever retreats.

This is the first thing. The fact that we have for all intents and purposes, momentarily “lost” contact with him. It’s normal, I know this - normal to want to burrow away and figure things out in solace, normal for someone who is 13 and looks 16 and is wracked with evolving feelings and changing body. I get it.

But this new room, and this new kid (who is now taller than me) got me missing things. Missing how things used to be before we walked around with devices in our hands. Because the truth is we are - all four us in this house - burrowed away in our own Personal Spaces. Eyes down, time wasted, hours spent scrolling, clicking, forwarding, deleting. Even the ten-year-old who doesn’t have a phone, has an iPad and access to a computer - and so while we still play board games, and eat dinner as a family, watch movies together sometimes - the cold, hard truth is that any leisure time to spare is time spent alone, in some corner, staring down at a screen.

So when I came across Tiffany Shlain’s new book “24/6: The Power of Unplugging One Day A Week” it was like a plea, a dare, and an answer all rolled into one. The next day, I called a family meeting. 

“We’re going to implement a Tech Shabbat. We are going to unplug for twenty-four hours. No iPhones, no iPads, no computers. ALL of us. We will have a landline, a list of phone numbers to call people if we want, and one TV to share, in the family room.”

The ten year old was excited.

The thirteen year old cried.

He shed actual tears, and his reaction - fear, confusion, desperation, fury - further cemented my decision. 

Yesterday was our first unplugged Sunday.

And here are my take-aways.

THINGS THAT WERE SURPRISING

1. Teenagers are resistant and reluctant to use phones for anything other than texting. I had to implore my 13 yr old to pick up the house phone and call his friends (they were supposed to meet up for Superbowl hangout that evening.) “Nobody calls anybody! Nobody leaves voice messages. Nobody checks voicemail!” “They won’t know this number. They won’t pick up.” He was correct on all accounts. I had to call parents and inform them that it was, in fact, our son calling from a landline, that this was no prank. The kids who ended up calling back didn't know to how to greet me. They stammered and hemmed and hawed. The idea that reaching out to a friend did not guarantee a direct connection with said friend, was foreign and stupid and strange. This all blew my mind.

2. The day felt incredibly long and languid. It unfolded slowly. When we get on a device, time is sucked up so quickly. I liken it to being in a casino. Minutes fly by, the whole concept of time is warped, thwarted, eradicated. Many times a day, I take my phone out of my pocket and there I am - Instagram, Facebook, Flipboard, Twitter, Matchington Mansion - and when I slip it back into my pocket, I’m unaware of how much time has passed. An hour? Twenty minutes? I don't register it, and yet, it’s gone in a flash.

3. I didn’t miss the things I thought I would. I didn’t miss social media, I didn't miss news notifications popping up, I didn't even miss the Marco Polos I love exchanging with a group of close friends. I didn’t miss getting emails. I didn’t miss looking around for my phone or “alone time.” I still had my alone time except it was quieter - an aloneness with my thoughts, observing things instead of being distracted by them. I didn’t miss being available and connected to an outside world. When I started wondering about how someone was doing, I picked up the house phone and gave them a ring. I left a message and hoped they’d call back. It felt freeing. It felt authentic. My husband felt the same. However, our oldest son’s biggest worry was missing out. He still got dropped off at his friend’s house for the SuperBowl party (the only kid there without a phone, I'm sure) and he still had loads of fun. In fact, when I called the kid’s house later that night to check up on him, he sounded energetic and happy and even ended the conversation with “I love you, mom.” But later he mentioned experiencing anxiety - feeling like he was missing out on “something important” by not having access to his phone. To him, having his phone nearby means having his friends nearby. Without it, he feels lost, unmoored. That admission made me think about how hard it is for our kids, who have grown up used to being “connected” all the time.

4. Landlines are FUN. My friends called a few times, and I would slightly thrill at the sound of a phone ringing throughout the house, and I’d run downstairs to pick up the receiver in time, smiling. As we talked, one friend commented how it felt like we were sixteen, hanging off our beds, twirling our hair, talking about our crushes. 

5. My husband and I worked on a crossword puzzle over coffee and breakfast. I also finished a jigsaw puzzle in one afternoon, which I’d been working on for weeks. I read a lot. My boys lay together on the couch and agreed on what to watch on the one TV we could use. They hung out more than they had in a long, long time. We all felt relaxed. I ended up watching the Superbowl because by 9pm, I was too tired to start another jigsaw puzzle, too tired to read, so what else was there to do? I laid on the couch and learned about fumbles, and touchdowns, and cheered for the Chiefs and I kind of got into it. Who the fuck would have thunk. 

THINGS THAT WERE ANNOYING

1. I couldn’t take pictures. That sucked. 

2. Traveling was unsettling. When the boys went to SkyZone, I didn't like not being able to get in touch with them. Granted, my sister and her husband and kid were there too, and I called her, but still. I thought about car accidents or something random and awful happening while they were out, and I worried about when they’d get home. That kinda sucked too. It felt like an old yet unfamiliar sensation - not knowing what was going on at every single moment. 

3. We couldn't order anything online. We couldn't use GrubHub or DoorDash, or GoogleMaps. We couldn’t just like check the weather with a swipe of one finger. Not having the everyday convenience of being online was a bit of a bother, but we survived. It made me realize that we have gotten lazy about daily tasks, and that part of our brain has BECOME our iPhone. 

4. I snacked a lot. Without my calorie counting and fitness apps to log my food intake, I suddenly found myself snacking on junk. I did work out, but eating that day became a sort of time filler, and the feeling reminded me of quitting cigarettes and turning to food. That was unforeseen, and I did not like it.

THINGS THAT WERE PROFOUND

1. All day, we felt like we were together in the same space. We retreated less often. We felt serene, light on our feet. We settled into feeling bored, or lazy, or inspired. We gave each other more attention but somehow felt less encumbered upon. It was really, really lovely and soothing. Putting away our devices felt like going on vacation. When we went to bed, I felt closer to my husband. I felt like we had truly shared the day. And both us were not exactly looking forward to Monday, because it felt like going back to the grind. Already there was a bubble of anxiety in our chests, a feeling of weight on our shoulders. Also, I had 127 emails waiting for me this morning and not a one of them was something that desperately should have been answered yesterday. So there was that realization too. The world won’t fall apart if you check out for one day.

2. Twenty-fours can change you. It is a small amount of time, yet our 24 hours unplugged felt so incredibly substantial and so behavior-altering that it made me pause and realize just how addicted we have become to always being connected to the outside world via technology. It’s fucking bizarre, if you think about it. 

3. Unplugging and reaping the benefits will only work when the adults in the house do it too. We already have a Device Free day and have had it for years, but it only applied to the kids. It has never felt as pure, and as important and GOOD, as yesterday, when the rules applied to all of us. Taking electronic away from the kids, while being allowed ourselves because “we didn't grow up with this, so we’re not addicted to it” - is like telling someone to go on a diet and eating cake in front of them all day, because well, you personally don't have an issue with weight. Suddenly, it became clear: to be together, we have to do this together.

Moral of the story: this was a pretty amazing experience, as trivial as it seemed to some. If you are feeling burdened, stressed out, fractured, cranky with your kids, your partner - I highly recommend investing in a landline, writing down phone numbers, picking a weekend day, and trying it out. It will feel new and beautiful, and reassuring somehow. Because while there were moments when obviously we went our own ways, did our own thing, we still felt as one. There were no walls, no apps, no texts getting in the way of figuring out and enjoying the day. We were fully present with each other, with ourselves - aware of time but not panicked or confined by it. 

In her book, Tiffany Shlain writes that her family has been unplugging one day a week for ten years now. I don’t know how long we’ll last, but all I know is this - we can’t wait for next Sunday.

[all-the-lovely-newsies]

Do you... have any Three's the Day (Jack x Crutchie x Davey) headcanons?

Do I have Threes the Day headcanons? Do IIII have THREES THE DAY HEADCANONS????

Nope.

Just kidding! Have some canon era “how they got together” headcanons because I was so mean!

—

- Jack and Crutchie were a thing before the strike

- They didn’t know exactly what that thing was, but they knew it was more than friends.

- So when Crutchie comes back after the strike Jack is thrilled (obvs)

- But Crutchie is less than happy when he sees how close Jack has gotten with the new guy

- Crutchie didn’t really get to know Davey before he got lifted

- He tries not to be upset, besides were him and Jack actually a real thing before anyways??

- Jack notices Crutchie getting distant and approaches him about it.

- “It’s fine Jacky. You went through a lot with him. And he’s smart and articulate and-“

- Jack frowns, “what are you talking about?”

- “You and Davey”

- Jack is shocked and instantly feels bad.

- “No, no we’re just friends!!” He insists

- Crutchie accepts the answer for a while but it gets harder to believe when he sees the way Jack looks at Davey.

- The same way he looks at him.

- “You should just spend some time with him Crutch. He’s a real swell guy I’m sure you’d like him. “

- Crutchie sighs, but he can’t say no to Jack, he never could.

- So the next day he asks Davey to sell with him

- Davey’s shocked but smiles and agrees to go with him.

- They mostly sell around Washington Market, since the weather is good and Crutchie’s leg is having a good day.

- Crutchie is still skeptical about this whole thing and is unusually quite on the long walk

- Davey isn’t much better as he still is getting the hang of talking to the rowdy newsboys

- They carry on and sell awkwardly for a while until they pass a book vender

- Davey stops and is just staring at all the books.

- He’s so excited and starts yammering on about all the different books

- “This ones The Heart of Darkness and it’s all about this guy going to the Congo! Can you IMAGINE Crutchie? The CONGO?!??”

- And Crutchie can’t help but stare at him

- Because he has the same glint in his eye that Jack gets when he’s painting.

- And it’s…adorable. There’s no denying it.

- “Say, Davey, which one a these is your fav’rite?”

- Davey’s eyes light up even more and rattled off a dozen books and summaries

- And Crutchie is smitten

- By the time they get back to the lodging house Davey has promised to to let Crutchie borrow one of his books.

- And Jack is just waiting on the steps

- His stupid smug grin catching Crutchie’s eyes immediately.

- “How was your day boys?”

- “Yeah, yeah it was real good Jacky”

- Jack laughs and runs his hand through Crutchie’s hair

- The three of them start hanging out all together after that

- It’s rare that one is seen without at least one of the other two

- Soon Crutchie is invited along with Jack to the Jacobs’ Shabbat dinners

- They fall asleep on the fire escape together (often with books in Davey and Crutchie’s Laps And a paintbrush in Jacks)

- And Crutchie quickly falls for the other boy, but he’s still enamored with Jack

- He doesn’t know how to approach Jack about it.

- But luckily he doesn’t have to

- With flushed cheeks and that amazing smile Jack confesses his feelings towards Davey, and how he still loves Crutchie though.

- And Crutchie is thrilled

- Now all they have to do is tell Dave

- One night the three of them go to a show at Medda’s

- It’s a real romantic show

- But Crutchie just can’t keep his eyes off of the boys he’s with

- He gets too wrapped up in the moment and kisses Jack on the cheek. He thought in the dark no one would see

- But Davey sees.

- And runs out of the theater

- When Crutchie and Jack finally catch up Davey has tears streaming down his cheeks

- “I’m, im sorry. I didn’t know. And I thought that maybe. At least ONE of you might actually. But—“

- He keeps stuttering

- Jack and Crutchie lock eyes and exchange a small smile before pulling Davey into the nearest alleyway

- “Wha-what are you guys-“

- And Jack places a sloppy kiss on his lips

- “You talk too much Mouth”

- Davey just stares, dumbfounded

- Until Crutchie also kisses him

- To which he responds with the biggest, happiest, grin Crutchie has ever seen.

- They never actually see the end of the Bowery show, but their ending is better than anything some playwright could have imagined anyway.

- —-

WHEE that turned into a short fic!! Sorry about that. But I hope you liked it!! I had other things I wanted to write about but this turned WAYY too long! But if there’s anything you’d like to hear I’d LOVE to write something!!

Thank you for the request!! I’m ALWAYS here for headcanons!!