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youcouldmakealife · 1 month

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SOTM: Gabe/Stephen; largesse (pt I)

For the prompt: Gabe and Stephen being sappy at SOME point

Feat. everybody's favourite: Soft Stephen Petersen (but don't you dare call him that to his face)

I'm going ahead and posting this a day before the poll even closes, because it was winning by a landslide and also, well, Passover. This thing decided to grow legs, as so many prompts do. The second half will be posted next week.

Stephen loves holidays.

It takes a long time for Gabe to figure that out — he's talking literal decades — because Stephen’s actually pretty good at hiding it. Or maybe it isn’t that he’s good at hiding it so much as it’s exactly what someone would expect from him. Stephen exudes ‘too cool for holidays’ energy.

But then, to be fair, Stephen exudes a lot of things that aren’t true. Like how he pretends to hate hugs, but that’s only true in limited circumstances: he dislikes hugs from strangers and distant acquaintances, that’s true, but he liked hockey hugs, and hugs from his family, even though he always scoffed before he got them, just so they wouldn’t get the right idea, and a good hug is often enough to get him out of a bad mood. The thing Stephen hates most about hugs is how much he doesn’t hate them.

He’s like that with a few things: he spent years pretending he couldn’t stand math, even as he was getting straight As in it, helping Gabe out with his homework, but never without muttering how pointless math was. He still pretends to hate his sisters, and groans when Dmitry and Oksana come over, even when he explicitly asked Gabe to invite them, and constantly pretends he isn’t absolutely delighted to find a kindred soul in Jared. Gabe can see right through all of that. Always has. But Stephen’s apparent holiday hatred managed to fool even him.

That is, until Stephen accidentally shows his hand when Passover arrives. Stephen’s been doing something or another for it for years, packing Gabe little lunch boxes so he has options on the road, even including uncharacteristically sweet little notes during one playoff run.

Gabe always figured it was because Stephen knew it was hard to be across the country from his family, especially when Passover fell at the same time as their birthdays, or the last stressful days of the season, or the even more stressful start of the postseason — it’s never been great timing. And as much as Stephen would like to deny it, he’s always been thoughtful about those kinds of things. Always been kind.

But this year it's different. Gabe’s Passover planning usually just extends to hitting up the kosher section at the grocery store to stock up on non-leavened alternatives, maybe head to the deli he likes to get some inferior version of something his mom would make if he’s feeling particularly homesick.

Stephen’s putting a little more effort in. For one, he's decided to cook. Relatedly, he's spending half his time on the phone with Gabe’s mom, it feels like — recipes can’t take that long to convey, no matter how chatty Gabe’s mom is — and shooing Gabe out of the kitchen with his traditional Passover lunch box, even though he isn’t on the road this year, and, thank fuck, it’s still the regular season this time. It’s rough, having to abstain from all of his favourite ways to carboload just in time for the postseason.

And then there's Seder. The fact they're having one, but also the fact they've got a guest list: a few of Stephen's university friends, a Jewish colleague of his who also lives across the country from his family, and Jared and Bryce, Dmitry and Oksana.

He spends Gabe doesn’t even know how much time and energy getting it together, brushing off most of Gabe’s offers to help. Gabe’s exhausted just doing his minor part and low-key worrying about Dmitry or Jared saying something to set Stephen off.

Everyone's shockingly well behaved, though, to the point where Gabe wonders what Stephen threatened them with. Something horrible, he’s sure. At the end of the night, everyone parts with leftovers, which Gabe is a little wistful about — he knows they kept a little of everything but it’s his favourite, and Stephen did good job with it, if not a Miriam job — and Gabe starts clearing the table, because Stephen looks like he’s hit his limit.

The kitchen is such a disaster Gabe doesn’t even know where to start — he didn’t think they had this many dishes. He doesn’t even recognise all of them. Gabe has never been more grateful to have a dishwasher. He only wishes they had two. Or three, even. Three would be good.

“I think that went okay,” Stephen says as Gabe starts rinsing the dirtiest of the dishes.

“It went great,” Gabe says. “What’s the occasion, anyway?”

“Passover,” Stephen says.

“Steve,” Gabe says.

“Oh, well,” Stephen says. “It’s important to you.”

But he’s flustered, and not just flustered in the way he gets whenever he has to admit he’s done something nice for someone.

That doesn’t typically apply to Gabe anyway. Stephen claims that it’s inherently selfish to do nice things for Gabe, because they’re a partnership, and helping his partner helps him. Gabe figures whatever helps Stephen sleep at night after doing embarrassing things like offering Gabe the last piece of pizza — obviously not during Passover — or telling him he likes his playoff beard when they both know it’s mid at best.

Though, Stephen actually seemed pretty into it, last year, to the point where Gabe was starting to think he might have a bit of a thing for the beard. So maybe that was selfish after all.

Gabe, equally selfishly, hopes they make it even further this year, just to test that theory.

"Well," Gabe says. "Thank you," and notices Stephen looks relieved that he's letting it go. Even grateful.

So of course that's when Gabe starts paying attention.

#fic snippet #SOTM #gabe markson #stephen petersen

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merulanoir · 1 year

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I went to the local kosher deli yesterday and the rabbi who owns it was just about the nicest person ever. He started coming up with possible Hebrew names for me and when I was leaving he told me to keep pushing every teacher I have.

"No matter the denomination, chabad, reform, conservative. Make them sweat."

Which just about summarizes one of the main reasons I love Judaism.

#blackbirb babbles #conversion tag #jumblr

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gay-jewish-bucky · 3 months

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Some fun/kitschy Jewish mugs I've found that I think Bucky would own

Links under the cut

Kosher Queer Coffee Mugs

Faygelah Mug

Gay Jew Mug

You're My Everything Bagel

Jewish Penicillin Soup Mug

I Put the Stud in Torah Study Mug

International Dreidel Champion Mug

There's a Chance This is Manischewitz Mug

OY VEY Seasoning Mug

Jewish Deli Mug

Certified Kosher Mug

Say it in Yiddish Mug

Yiddish Insults Mug

Shalom Bitches Mug

Home is Where the Challah Is Mug

You are my Everything Bagel Mug

Mazel Tov Cat Mug

Shayna Punim Pretty Face Mug

Caturday Mug

#Jewish Bucky Memes #Jewish Bucky Memes - Image #marvel #mcu #jewish!bucky #jewish!bucky barnes #jewish bucky #jewish bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes

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gillespiejr · 2 months

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the anti israel boycotts appear particularly insidious when you consider the history of jewish immigrants in america. a lot of them would open restaraunts or shoppettes. my own jewish great-grandparents opened a kosher deli, which, while no longer owned in our family, still exists and is still a deli. I have living aunts and uncles who worked there while the original family members who opened it were still alive. so many places like these still exist-- how many of these are now being targeted because of these boycotts? how many have had their livelihoods at risk? how many risk losing an important part of their family history? how many are scared to open the doors each morning and close them again each night? all for the crime of existing as a jew.

these protesters have proven over and over again, while they insist all day that antizionism isnt antisemitism, that they cannot actually differentiate the jewish people from the modern country israel. it's pure evil. all the more damning when you remember what the early attempts at alienating jews in germany looked like (hint: the nazis encouraged boycotting jewish business)...

#jumblr #am yisrael chai #bds #boycott israel #boycott divest sanction

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a-very-tired-jew · 23 days

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Being a secular Jew in places where there aren't a lot of Jews to begin with.

This has been on my mind a lot these past few months. I am originally from the Philly area, which has a large Jewish population, and grew up surrounded by secular and religious Jews. However, in pursuing my career I've moved across the USA and lived in the South East, the Midwest, the Great Plains, and the Central Southern region. In all of these areas I have been the only Jew my new social circle has met, and on every occasion they have this perceived stereotype of what a Jew is that is contradictory and they don't even know it. I've stated before that I grew up in the Reconstructionist movement, but in all honesty I have always been a secular Jew and neither myself nor my family practiced Halaka (even my Conservative grandparents didn't, nor did my great-grandparents). Part of this is due to the culture in the north east, the pseudo-assimilation, and the integration of Jewish culture with many other cultures. I grew up eating cheesesteaks and hoagies from Jewish delis. I worked in a deli that sold kosher products on one side and cured pork products on the other. Bagel sandwiches with bacon? Absolutely. Were there people who kept kosher in my community and social circle? Of course, but they got a steak sandwich instead of a cheesesteak and we thought nothing of it. But moving out of the area? Hoo boy. I would eat bacon and goyim would absolutely freak out on me. "Aren't you Jewish?! YOU CAN'T EAT BACON!". Not realizing that there were Jews who didn't abide by those rules. They would then tell me all about Judaism from the TV they watched and/or other media they consumed, and it'd always have a scene of secular New York Jews eating pepperoni pizza. They literally had an example right there in front of them and they didn't understand. I remember even bringing it up to a friend and they went "wait, pepperoni is made from pork?" That alone made me take psychic damage. So this is for my goys out there who seem to think every Jew keeps dietary laws and restrictions. We don't. We have nothing against those that do either. We're all one big tribe with a lot of variety in it. But we do all have IBS and are lactose intolerant.

#jumblr #judaism

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stusbunker · 2 months

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Spotless: Trill

Chapter Seventeen

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader

Other characters: Rufus (mentioned), Annie/Bobby, Kevin, Cas, Billie, Kelly Kline

Word Count: 1944

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, dream sequence in italics, minor character death, grief, Non-Jewish people trying to honor a Jewish friend's life, reader keeps putting out fires, unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

Dean leans over the edge of the hot tub, dripping wet. He is smirking and coaxing you to join him. It’s warm, the height of summer somehow and you tell him it’s too hot for it tonight, but you can’t stop looking at him, at every exposed inch of his torso.

He pushes up on his forearms, thick shoulders somehow distracting you from his husky voice. He tells you it will be alright, it will feel better once you’re in the water.

With him.

You look over and Sam’s coming onto the patio, fully clothed in jeans and a flannel, hair flapping as he starts asking you about an interview. You look for your phone, but you look down to find you have no pockets, a swimsuit you wouldn’t put on on your best day is all that you’re wearing.

Dean chuckles and suddenly, you’re beside him, water warm and soothing as he drags you onto his lap. Your phone buzzes somewhere and you can’t find it on the ledge of the hot tub. Instead you feel Dean’s hands running over your hips, and he’s gone quiet, waiting for you to look at him again.

“You deserve to be kissed,” Dean’s voice reminds you and you look down and find he disappeared. A phantom kiss on the nape of your neck is what finally makes you look behind you and you’re standing in Elizabeth’s cafe, staring at the mural you’d been mesmerized by on New Year’s Eve.

Your phone buzzed again.

You stared at the screen, dumbfounded, then quickly got out of bed.

You made it to Bobby and Annie’s in less than an hour, which was practically a miracle even in the middle of the day. You didn’t even knock, instead you let yourself in through the back gate and stepped into the now somber kitchen.

Annie appeared suddenly. “So you heard?” she asked softly, pulling you into a hug.

“Yeah, I — How is he?” Bobby was the only thing on your mind the whole way there, not bothering to even post a condolences post from the band until you knew how he was handling the loss of his best friend and biggest pain in his ass.

“Oh, you know, fine— if you ask him. He hadn’t seen him in months, but the secret diagnosis and the shock has him more pissed than anything,” Annie filled you in as you sat down at the island and let her pour you a cup of coffee.

Bobby had known Rufus for over thirty years, having worked as his roadie for most of the eighties. A prolific piano player and notorious grump, Rufus had been one of the first actual celebrities you’d come to know through the band family. Now that he was gone, it felt like one of the elders was missing from your California tribe.

An end of an era.

“What’s he doing?”

“Sitting Shiva. Though I think that’s supposed to be after the funeral,” Annie added offhandedly.

“Have you heard anything about services?”

Annie shook her head. “I texted his daughter asking if she needed anything and she just said that they’d be in touch.”

You wanted to go give Bobby a hug, but you knew it was best to let him sit with the quiet for a while longer. Unfortunately, Dean didn’t get that unsent memo.

A loud banging rattled the front door and before you or Annie could rush to open it, Bobby was yanking it open and bellowing “what in the hell is this all about?!”

Dean gave him a pointed look. “Lunch,” was his only reply before stepping into the foyer, arms full of take out.

“What’d you get?” Annie asked, trying to ignore Bobby’s aghast expression as everyone returned to the kitchen.

“I stopped by that little Kosher deli Rufus always liked, and got one of, well, everything. I figure, whatever we don’t eat will keep,” Dean explained, unpacking submarine sandwiches and more sides than you tried to count.

Bobby tried to storm back to his study, but Annie wouldn’t let him. You all ended up just eating in contemplative silence and letting the food soothe some of the ache. You were so grateful for Dean’s thoughtfulness in that moment, you almost forgot about your racy dream and everything that led up to it.

It wasn’t the time or the place to get all hot and bothered anyhow.

After the food was done filling your bellies and Bobby’s and Annie’s monster-sized fridge, you pulled out what you had brought along to honor Rufus’ memory, an unopened bottle of Johnny Walker Blue.

You set the bottle down in the middle of the table with a thunk. Bobby whistled and Annie tried to get up for glasses but you waved her off, you knew where they kept them. Dean was reading the label when you returned with four cut crystal tumblers and a side of ice, you could never remember if Annie took it straight, she drank the hard stuff so infrequently.

He cracked the cap open and then your phone buzzed, but you ignored it. He poured doubles all around, but served Bobby first.

“To that dick, may he play on in glory,” Bobby toasted.

“L’chaim,” Dean replied and you and Annie followed suit.

The stories started after Bobby’s second glass, with Dean filling in bits he’d heard from Rufus or had witnessed himself from after he’d earned the man’s rare respect.

One time Rufus actually asked Bobby to help him bury a body, but it turned out it was Rufus’ neighbor’s dog and the lady was too heartbroken to do it herself. Another time they had been mistaken for federal agents due to their matching suits, but that was just because they had to walk passed an active crime scene on the way to Bobby and Annie’s wedding ceremony.

It felt good to laugh, even while it still hurt.

You got up to get everyone some water and finally checked your phone. What greeted you was a huge reminder that it was still a work day. And you needed to get back to it.

“Oh, fuck me,” you groaned, scrolling through the rest of the comments.

“Where’s the fire?” Bobby asked, the managerial voice coming out strong.

You looked at Dean and he could tell it wasn’t great, but you weren’t sure if you needed to bring Cas up at a time like this.

“Everybody alright?” he asked, testing the waters.

“For now, until I kill them,” you muttered, thumbing your screen until you could get to your contact list. You felt everyone’s eyes on your back as you started to pace as the phone rang, but Annie was the only one with the sense to find out what had made you so upset.

“Those morons,” you heard her say as you got sent to Kevin’s voicemail.

You hung up and called a different number. After three rings, someone finally picked up.

“Castiel’s phone, how can I help you?”

“Kevin?”

“Trouble?! Why are you listed as Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Cuz that’s my name, dumbass,” you snipped. “Where are you? Is Cas there? Why didn’t you answer your own phone?”

“Relax! I just got out of the chair, Cas’ stencil is just getting set. I would have called you back in like five minutes.”

You exhaled. “Okay. Few things. Field trips with rival schools require prior permission, you get me?”

Kevin had the nerve to laugh. “It’s just Cas, it’s not like I’m dating Ruby or hanging out with those wannabe Ghostfacers.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, but the band does have a designated artist. Who you— very publicly— didn’t use. You don’t piss off somebody like Billie, Kevin, you just don’t.”

“How was I supposed to know?!”

You did not feel sorry for the kid. “Put Cas on the line— speaker if his arm is busy.”

You turned around and raised your eyebrows in question to Dean, mouthing, ‘you want to hear this?’

Dean swallowed and shook his head. And you kept the phone call one-sided for your audience.

“I’m here,” Cas’ deep voice greeted you over the line, low and private.

“Who's your publicist?” you asked, not bothering with formality or reprimanding a forty-year-old man who knows better.

“Kelly, she’s also our manager and—.”

“Jack’s mother. Oh, Cas.”

“Don’t pity me, it’s fine. She’s good at what she does.”

“Okay, well text her my number and we can try and ease the backlash, but you’re gonna have to grovel to Billie on your own.”

“Right,” Cas bit out like he forgot who had covered half of his body in color.

You let the awkwardness hang in the air, but sighed when your curiosity got the best of you, “what’re you getting anyway?”

Cas hummed. “A quote from ‘Good God, Y’all’ looping around his earring.”

It was one of Rufus’ most loved albums, but not the most popular.

“Where?”

“Inside my left upper arm— Kevin’s is just below the seam of his elbow.”

“Did he cry?”

Cas sounded like he shifted positions, or maybe he was distracted watching the artist’s hands. “No, but it wasn’t his first one.”

“Pity. Okay, well I will be in touch. Don’t forget to talk to Kelly for me.”

“I won’t.”

“Bye, Cas.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

You hung up and slumped in annoyance and minor relief.

“What’d they say?” Bobby asked, breaking the silence of the room around you.

“Nothing too damning, but still enough to piss me off,” you replied. “I’ll talk to Cas’ people. Figure this out. I’m sure I have a million messages from Becky and Billie and probably even Crowley to sort through. Assholes couldn’t give me a day off.”

“You want me to talk to Kev?” Dean’s voice broke through your mini-rant.

“Only if you want to, I kind of gave him a piece of it already.”

Dean nodded and finished his glass.

“Damn idjits, even when they mean well.”

“Tell me about it,” you said over your shoulder, heading to Bobby’s study to get to work.

As it turned out, Kelly Kline was a stand up manager, both competent and protective. You figured out their niche and tried to work with it, though your fans were louder and more numerous, you didn’t want the frenzy of the matching tattoos to become a question of loyalty, for either Cas or Kevin.

You had Bobby read over your post memorializing Rufus and got that out into the world before you left to head back home. Dean offered to wait with you on the porch. You sat, once again, in silence, letting the sunset and breeze off the ocean ease some of the tension from the day. When your driver was two blocks away, he finally turned to face you.

“How’s he doing?”

You sighed and shrugged. “He seemed good. But from what I gather, he’s got a lot on his plate.”

Dean nodded. “Right, new band, new set list to master.”

“No, Dean, I think over everything else, the music is the easiest thing Cas has to deal with.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

Dean spotted the little hybrid approaching and he stood to give you a hug. “Thanks for coming, I mean, I know it was for Bobby, but it was nice to see you on a day like today.”

“You too.” And you meant it. You squeezed him one last time as the driver called out to you through the passenger window. “Thanks for lunch.”

“Be safe.”

“Take care.”

You felt Dean’s eyes on you as you were driven away, back to the house he had bought with Sam way back when, where you were always, glaringly alone.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter Eighteen: Mordent

#spotless series #dean winchester fanfiction #dean/reader #slow burn #rockstar au #minor character death #grief #dean angst

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elliescoolerwife · 4 months

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you know who hates "zionists"? (which is just the current acceptable way of saying "jews" btw.) nazis, islamic fundamentalists and conspiracy theorists. you may think you're on the "right side of history" by siding with Palestine here, but you mustn't be too upset when it turns out you're just on the.. right. when you're out there in your Etsy keffiyehs waving your anti-Israel cardboard signs, remember you're in esteemed company. scarf-wearing proud boys waving swastikas chanting "jews will not replaces us!" were doing the same thing a few years ago. but you go right ahead. stay self-righteous. imagine that it's progressive and liberal and moral to yell slurs at jews on the internet and tell them (in your infinite expertise) what is and isn't antisemitism, where jews do and don't belong, what jews can and can't do, say, feel. keep boycotting jewish businesses and defacing kosher delis. keeping throwing hot soup at wait staff, blocking jewish women from using the bathrooms and knocking yarmulkes off peoples heads. keep smashing up menorahs. and while you're at it keep telling yourself you're on the right side. because you are. the far right.

This has nothing to do with jews you moron.

You’re calling palestinian jews self hating? Jewishvoiceforpeace is a self hating organisation? Israelis that are protesting in israel - self hating? The black jews that are angry that they’re getting sterilized - self hating? The rabbis that are praying everyday for the downfall of israel - self hating?

What do you think a jew is?

If you are a murderer I don’t fucking care about who you are. Just because they’re jewish they don’t get a free card to just create a genocide and say ”we’re jewish and you can’t say anything cuz people who hate jews are on your side”. Are you fucking dense? You are destroying the meaning of antisemitism. Everything is antisemitism nowadays.

Talk about creating problems that don’t exist. While you’re blaming pro-Palestinians for nazis actions, you don’t put any blame on israel for murdering 700.000 people, displacing 2 million, kidnapping, torturing and putting 800.000 behind bars without trial. Many of them children.

But God forbid Menoras are getting destroyed by nazis (not a Palestinian issue) and ZIONIST supporting companies (not jewish) are getting boycotted for sending food and money to the IOF. Okay. Definitely on the same level as the 75 year old genocide happening.

Zionists are an embarassment. Zionism is destroying judaism. Not us. Zionism is making jews look like murderers. Colonizers. Animals. Not us. They are describing themselves as superior and everyone that hates murder and occupation is antisemetic. What does that say about Judaism? Absolutely nothing - but zionist themselves seem to think their God told them to do this.

You are destroying the beautiful religion and destroying the meaning of being Jewish.

NOT IN THEIR NAME.

#jewish #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #free palestine #tlou #the last of us #palestine #israel #palestinians #antisemitism #ellie williams x reader #free israel #< disgusting #arabs #middle east

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