#was doing a crossword and it was one of the clues

[moonstruckme]

Hi doll! I love ur new theme btw.

could I request Spencer Reid with (number 3) hands stained with pen ink 🐤? x

Hi baby! Thank you <3

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 454 words

“Breaker locale.” You tap beside your mouth absentmindedly. “Three letters.”

“Locale?” Spencer checks. 

“Mhm.” 

“Do we have any letters?” 

“If we’re right about sixteen down, then there’s an A in the middle.” 

You’re definitely right about sixteen down. Spencer had gotten that one, and you’ve yet to see the day where he has to scratch something out in the crossword. He’s done most of it, actually, leaving the final few to you while you munch on your toast and he makes coffee. 

“Could it be like an electrical breaker?” you wonder aloud. “Like a breaker box? The breakers live in the box, don’t they?” 

“Not if the second letter is A…” Spencer sounds stumped. You raise your eyebrows at his back and he puts down the bag of coffee grounds, staring at nothing for a few seconds. “Breaker locale…” 

“Maybe it’s like a place where people who break stuff live? Is there a city like that?” 

Spencer shakes his head wordlessly. He finishes messing with the coffee machine and turns it on, coming around the counter to look over your shoulder. 

He exhales a soft laugh. “Lab.” 

“Lab?” You don’t get it even remotely, but you’re already filling the letters in. “How?” 

“It says beaker locale.” 

You find the clue and read it again. “Oh,” you laugh, pressing your fingers to your eyes. “Dumb.” 

“Not dumb,” Spencer chides lightly. “You just misread it. Hey.” He knuckles the corner of your lips. “Be careful not to get ink in your mouth.”

You blink, then wipe the spot with your thumb. It comes away tinged blue. “Oh, god.” You roll your eyes. “I didn’t even realize I was tapping it with my pen. Guess I’m really not having my most intellectual morning.” 

“Don’t say that,” Spencer admonishes you again, but he’s smiling, fingers grasping your jaw as he comes in for a kiss. It’s soft and sweet and feels like the glowy yellow your apartment turns in the morning light. When he pulls away after a few seconds, his smile slips before righting itself again. “Oh. Sorry.” 

“Hm?” 

“You’ve got…” He grimaces sheepishly, holding up the hand that had been on your face. Three of his fingertips are blue. 

“Oh my god.” You laugh, going to the bathroom to see. And yup, there are three blue splotches spread along your jaw, two on one side and one on the other. “Spencer!”

“I’m sorry,” you hear him laugh from the kitchen. “You already had the ones by your mouth anyway, though. They’ll wash off.” 

“These are worse than hickeys, you know that, right?” 

“I don’t really see how…but if they don’t come off and you want a hickey to divert attention from them, I can do that.”

[onehundredfoxess]

23 / crossword / 433

@/taylorswiftmicrofic who still needs to read tsc

“Good morning, Jean,” Jeremy said, flashing one of his warm smiles that was borne from sheer existence.

Jean had to stifle a yawn. “What are you doing?”

Jeremy looked down at the paper in front of him, almost as if he had forgotten it was there. “A crossword puzzle. Want to help me?”

“What’s the point of it?” Jean asked critically, even as he moved closer to the newspaper. To Jeremy.

The captain shrugged his shoulders and waggled his brows. “To stimulate the mind. To relax.”

“Relaxing is a waste of time.”

Jeremy hummed. “Look, this one’s for you.” He pointed a finger at the words on the paper, a dramatic display of reading the clue. “Hollowing out a tube; tiresome.”

Jean stepped even closer to Jeremy, and leaned over his shoulder to look at the partially completed puzzle. It seemed that Jeremy needed to solve the clues and fill in the letters, combining various words until each row and column were entirely filled in with overlapping responses.

He noted the B at the beginning of the word, and the -NG at the end. “I’m not boring,” Jean huffed, turning to scowl at Jeremy, but he had leaned so far over Jeremy’s shoulder to read the letters, and Jeremy had been smiling up at him, that their faces were so close now, lips practically brushing together.

“Maybe,” Jeremy began, swallowing audibly. He turned his head back toward the crossword puzzle slowly, like it pained him to have to look away from Jean at all. “Maybe twenty-nine across?”

“What is the clue?” Jean asked, voice practically a whisper.

“Nine letters,” Jeremy said, turning to look back at Jean, “for pulchritudinous.”

“What is the answer?” Jean asked, uncaring that he was admitting to not knowing the word himself, uncaring about anything other than the sight of Jeremy in front of him. Of the way Jeremy looked back at him with so much reverence and compassion, unlike anyone else Jean had ever met.

“Beautiful, Jean,” Jeremy said, gaze flicking down to Jean’s lips. “The answer is beautiful.”

[achromic-red-dreams-doze-angrily]

Did you guys know that "Pepsi Cola" and "Episcopal" are anagrams

[tswwwit]

Hey! You mentioned a while back that if the other dimension Dipper/Mabel/Ford might call the penthouse for advice in dealing with their Bill, and Familiar!Dipper might pick up the "call". I've been rereading the Bill v Bill series and can't get the scene out of my head. Any chance you'd be interested in writing it?

I'm certainly interested in writing it! I think there's a lot of opportunity for Shenanigans, and that's totally my jam.

The problem is: Actually Getting Around to writing it. But perhaps one day!

[drarrytm]

I was doing the NYT crossword and obv made a Drarry scenario in my head.

Draco does the daily crosswords (or whatever magic crossword shit wizards would have) for the prophet but he only does it anonymously so nobody knows who’s making them. But everyday he sneaks a Harry clue in. Cause he obv spent years obsessing over him he knows a lot about him. Harry hates it but also loves it and he has no idea who is doing it. But he is going to find out.

Ex: “The first head auror to once be considered undesirable number 1 (Harry Potter),

“One nickname for Harry Potter (the boy who lived)” ((Harry hates that one especially))

But he does sweet ones too like

“The saviors favorite treat”(treacle tart),

“Head auror made history by becoming the youngest _______ at Hogwarts in a century” (seeker).

And the one that pushes Harry over and he has to figure out who is doing these.

“You can thank his mother for those emerald eyes but you can thank his father’s ____ heritage for his deep golden skin (Desi).”

Because Harry had only recently began to figure out and relate to his father’s heritage. He traced where his father’s side had come from and took a trip there and he took a lot of comfort in having that side of him.

[radioprune]

rewatching 38 across for a humbling reminder of all the new york times crossword puzzles my friend brian and i have completed huddled in corners at various parties

[coquelicoq]

i completely solved a cryptic crossword for the first time the other day! this is huge for me because i've always been so annoyed by them lol. but i kinda get it now, it is very satisfying to figure them out.

that said, there are several answers where i still do not totally understand the clues. if anyone who is familiar with cryptics (sometimes just called "crosswords" outside of the US) wants to help me out, i'd be very interested to hear your take!

this cryptic was in the 2022 puzzle mania edition of the nyt (released at the very end of the year), so if you are planning to solve it and haven't yet, i guess don't read this? lol. since i waited five months to do it i feel like that will apply to no one, but just in case.

i realized after drafting this post that the answer key is available online (here), but it did not actually answer my questions in every case, so i've kept my original text but added the answer key answer after each one in case it makes more sense to you than it does to me.

13A. Has misgivings about deception to an auditor (4): RUES. so "has misgivings about" is the definition of "rues". but i don't know what "deception to an auditor" is doing. could it have something to do with the fact that "rues" is a homonym and anagram of "ruse", a kind of deception? but i still can't figure out what "to an auditor" is for.

the answer key gives "homophone ruse" for this, so i guess i was right about the deception part, but i still don't get the auditor thing.

14A. A con almost grabs actor's awards left unbalanced (10): ASYMMETRIC. so EMMYS is hidden backwards in "asymmetric", which takes care of "actor's awards" and "left", and "asymmetric" means "unbalanced", i guess. so that leaves "A con almost grabs", along with the A and TRIC of the answer. i can't figure out how to make those relate to each other.

answer key says "a(symmE)trick – k (rev. Emmys)". fuck does that mean?? why are we subtracting the k? and i'm still not really sure what the con is there for?

26A. Concentrate for spare and strike (5): THINK. "concentrate" is the definition of "think". what is the "for spare and strike" doing??

answer key: "thin + K". okay i see how thin = spare but wherefore this K? does K stand for strike in baseball? that sounds vaguely familiar...

28A. African country returned Los Angeles family inheritance (7): SENEGAL. senegal is an african country, and it's also an anagram of angeles. i'm guessing the "returned" is a clue for the anagram? but what is "family inheritance" for? oh wait, senegal backwards is LA genes!! but then is it just a coincidence that "angeles" anagrams to "senegal", or is that indicated in the clue somewhere???

answer key: "rev. L.A. + genes". okay so it does sound like angeles being an anagram of senegal is a coincidence, or at least not covered in the clue?? seems like a missed opportunity but what do i know.

5D. Largely moderate Arizona city (5): TEMPE. tempe is a city in arizona. what's "largely moderate" doing here?

answer key: "temper – r". am i to understand that this is saying moderate = temper and the "largely" part of the clue is telling me to keep most but not all of "temper"?

[silacynthia]

Made a crossword for chapters 75-76!

https://crosswordlabs.com/view/nevermore-crossword-for-chapter-75-76

[we-re-always-alright]

trying to catch up on the NYT crosswords I’ve missed but at least I am 5 for 5 on connections for the last week

[gojoest]

nanami kento likes doing the crossword in the mornings, it is part of his routine.

sitting in the kitchen, coffee on the table, some light breakfast to go along with it, and you — next to him.

his legs crossed, the newspaper rested on his lap, he casually takes your hand into his and intertwines his fingers with yours as he works his way through the word game. every now and then drawing your hand close to his lips and planting a soft peck on it.

his expression rarely changes, no matter how tricky the clue is — he always approaches it calmly. because, he always has the answer.

except for this one.

“could you please take a look at this?”, he asks, without peeling his eyes off the paper.

this is a surprise, it must be quite the question — you think, but — “sure”, you mutter. “let me see”, you lean in as he points at the clue with the tip of his pencil.

proposal, asking for a hand — it reads.

you squint. hmm.

14 letters — you count. hmm . . .

“w-i-l-l y-o-u m-a-r-r-y m-e”, you spell out loud. easy. you wonder why he got stuck on that one in the first place—

oh.

the realization hits after you look at him.

his eyes are still expecting, your answer.

“what do you think? will you?”

a/n: of course, he had to pull some strings to make this crossword happen. he’s been meaning to propose to you for a while but never really knew how to go about it exactly, until this idea came to him one day and he thought it was the most befitting, perfect. the ring is in his pocket, and he’s been quite nervous all morning — although he never showed it.

[pathologicalreid]

You write fluff and flangst absolutely amazingly and I’m in awe every dang time!

Buuut since you’ve got spring break coming up, a little fic idea that’s in my head that I’ll never do justice! (If you’re interested)

Fem!reader finding out an adorable way to tell Spencer she’s pregnant. I don’t care if they’re dating or married or what - but like she puts together a crossword, or a puzzle and he just doesn’t get it. (If you wanna throw angst in, he leaves without getting it for a case and then realizes it in the middle of the night.)

puzzling | S.R.

trying to tell Spencer you're pregnant, but he's too concerned with your well-being to fill out your custom crossword puzzle

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: pregnancy and misc. symptoms., talk of fainting and blood tests. word count: 1.69k a/n: welcome back to the spencer reid dilf agenda! i hope this does your request justice and thank you for entrusting me with this idea!!!! <3

you

It was your pride and joy, the collection of folded papers that sat on the kitchen counter, next to a cup of coffee that you had already filled for him.

On your fake newspaper, you had created a custom crossword puzzle. With four very important clues.

Across: “Early stage of life”

Across: “American actress Frances _”

Down: “Must be finished by”

Down: “Veteran’s Day month”

You smiled softly to yourself as you heard Spencer’s footsteps coming down the staircase. Padding over to the kitchen counter, you sat on one of the stools, a cup of tea in front of you.

Before he even looked at the newspaper, Spencer leaned over to kiss you good morning, “You look tired,” he whispered, hooking a finger under your chin as if he were investigating the dark circles underneath your eyes.

“Way to make a girl feel good about herself,” you teased lightly, even though you knew he was right. At least you felt tired.

He rolled his eyes, “You know that’s not what I meant.” Turning to grab his mug of coffee off of the counter, he observed you again, “Are you sure your doctor said nothing was wrong?”

Smiling, you gave him a brief nod. You had gone to see your doctor a few days ago for nausea and fatigue, and Spencer would’ve gone with you had he not been on the other side of the country on a case. “They’re running some tests, but they didn’t see anything blatantly wrong,” the doctor was running a few blood tests, checking your iron levels and HCG.

Using his free hand, Spencer reached over and moved a lock of hair out of your face, “They said your blood pressure was low?”

Low blood pressure, as it turned out, was a pregnancy symptom that was most common in the first trimester. “You’re freaking out over nothing, Spence,” you told him. Really, it was something. A rather large something – or small, depending on how you wanted to look at it. “Come on, it’s crossword time,” you told him, using the end of the pen to tap on the newspaper.

“I worry about you when I’m away. You do know that low blood pressure can cause syncope, right? Did they prescribe you anything for it?” He asked, ignoring your wishes to move on and do the crossword.

There was a small part of you that just wanted to tell him, but frankly, you had worked too hard on the crossword puzzle to give yourself away like that. You couldn’t tell him that they didn’t prescribe you anything because they didn’t know how far along you were. A larger part of you knew that if you just got him to work on the puzzle, he would have his answers in about seven minutes.

Then his phone rang, he pulled the device out of his pocket, and the Caller ID on the screen caused you to slump your shoulders forward. It was Garcia. “Hey Garcia,” he greeted on the phone, “at the tarmac?”

You set your head on the counter and sighed in defeat as Spencer hung up the phone.

“Are you alright?” He asked you softly, tenderly wrapping an arm around your torso.

Humming, you sat back up, ignoring the stars in your field of vision as you did so. “I’m fine, you should go,” you insisted.

Spencer shook his head, “No, you’re sick. I’ll call Garcia back and tell her I have to stay back.” Acting bewildered at the idea that he had been so remiss as to agree to do his job while you were unwell.

You reached out and set a hand on his, “It’s alright, love. I can take care of myself,” you reminded him. Besides the fact that you were wholly self-sufficient, the only reason why Spencer would be asked to meet the team at the tarmac was if they were headed toward a particularly gnarly case – they needed all hands on deck.

“Promise me you’ll check in? Call your mom if you need any help, please,” he requested, pleading eyes following you as you got up to hug him.

Nodding, you wrapped your arms around him, “You should take the crossword with you.” Pulling away, you haphazardly refolded the newspaper and handed it to him.

Furrowing his brow, Spencer inspected the paper that you had given him. “We always do the crossword together on Saturdays,” he found you incredibly helpful on the pop culture clues. “We could save this one and then have two for next week,” he offered.

God. No. Your eyes widened at the idea of having to keep your secret for another week, shaking your head, you shrugged, “No, you should take it. It’ll make me look forward to next week even more,” you insisted.

He folded, and with a sweet kiss to the forehead, he was off to go save lives, remaining entirely unaware of the one growing inside of you.

him

The judgmental Italian behind him was proving to be a distraction, “Did you find something?” Spencer asked, eyeing the evidence board with frustration. Something bugged him about the case, and he couldn’t figure out exactly what it was.

“Not right now, but it’s three in the morning,” Rossi said, joining Spencer by the evidence board. “Why don’t you give that big brain of yours a break?”

Shaking his head, Spencer crossed his arms in front of his chest, “I tried. I can’t stop thinking about the case.” Men were popping up dead in a small Missouri town at an alarming rate, and he felt so close to a breakthrough.

Dave nodded like he understood the feeling, that was probably why he had emerged from his hotel room so early, returning to the precinct before the sun peeked over the horizon. “What do you usually do to wind your brain down?”

Raising his eyebrows, Spencer shrugged, “Crossword puzzles,” he admitted, any word puzzle would do the trick.

The chuckle from the older man next to him startled Spencer, “Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?” Rossi looked around the precinct, “I’m sure we can find one around here somewhere.”

“No,” Spencer said, “I have one in my bag, actually.” He refrained from including the detail that you had given him the crossword puzzle, or else he’d never hear the end of it.

Clapping him on the back, Rossi lifted his coffee cup, “Then I suggest you go take the thirty seconds to fill out that puzzle and then get some rest.”

Once he was back in his hotel room, he changed before pulling out the pile of papers that you had sent him off with. Sitting on top of the bed, he filled out the puzzle in approximately six minutes and forty-three seconds. Once the letters were filled in, he skimmed the puzzle – just to check it over.

The only one that might’ve given him trouble was about an American actress – usually he had you to help him with pop culture, but he recalled having the same last name as an actress in Days of Our Lives.

It was interesting that the words “Baby” and “Reid” were right next to each other.

Wait.

Quickly, he calculated the odds that the words “Baby” “Reid” “Due” and “November” were all in the puzzle and when the numbers were put together, they made your anniversary. Spencer just as quickly called you, listening to the phone ringing.

His heart was racing as he waited to see if you answered the phone. “Hey,” your groggy voice came through the receiver.

“Where did you get this crossword puzzle?” He asked you, flipping through the rest of the newspaper for the first time.

You hummed softly, “You’re doing it right now?”

Looking at the alarm clock on his bedside table, he dropped his face into his hands. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t even think about the time,” it was just past four in the morning now, making it just past five in the morning in Virginia. “I just thought that…” his voice trailed off. What if it was just a coincidence?

There was silence on your end of the call, and he wondered if you had fallen asleep. You hadn’t been feeling well, and he’d woken you up with his phone call. “You thought what, Spence?”

The teasing lilt in your voice had given you away to him immediately. He knew. Every one of his suspicions were confirmed, “Y/N Reid,” he breathed.

“Spencer Reid,” you countered.

He took a deep breath, “Are you pregnant?”

“Yeah,” you answered simply, with about as much enthusiasm as he expected from you at five in the morning.

It all started to make sense to him. The low blood pressure, the drowsiness, and even the slight caginess when it came to him asking about your doctor’s visit. He swiped away a few stray tears, “I don’t know what to say.” It wasn’t a feeling he was overly used to.

You cleared your throat, “Are you happy?” Nerves clouded your voice, and he could hear you becoming more awake – more alert.

“I am,” he searched aimlessly. Elated. Thrilled. Ecstatic. “I’m so happy,” he told you, at a loss for words. “I don’t know what to say, I just… God, are you okay?” Dread washed over him, you were alone, sick, and pregnant at home and he was halfway across the country.

Sighing, he heard a ruffling on the other end of the call. “I’m great. I’m exhausted, I had no idea being pregnant was so tiring. I mean, I knew, but I didn’t know.” You sighed again, “I’m not making any sense.”

He laughed lightly at your rambling, “You’re making perfect sense. Chances are your energy will return during the second trimester.”

“Don’t get my hopes up.” You paused again for just a moment, “I’m sorry if I scared you. With the whole doctor’s appointment thing. They really are keeping an eye on my blood pressure and whole slew of other things, but they know the root cause.”

A giddy smile grew on his face, “It’s because you’re pregnant.”

A soft hum came through the phone, “It’s because I’m pregnant,” you concurred.

[dumbkiwi]

it turns out that even if BLACKBONNET (11) and GENTLEBEARD (11) are the same length, doing the CLINTON/BOBDOLE ELECTED crossword thing is actually. very difficult.

[regal-bones]

SWORDTEMBER DAY 5: PUZZLE

CrosSword, of daily distraction and loyal streak🙏🧩 A puzzle of mysterious origin inscribes itself upon the face of this blade each day, and as you turn it around in your hands, you notice something etched upon the other side: DOWN 1: A month long festivity, the blacksmith's hammer can be heard in the air as the daily blades are forged. 4: Once dull, I breathe life into your edge. 6: Words carved into a monument, runes carved into a blade. Can be split into three words - (interior)(an actors anchor)(a charged atom) 7: Quenched in this when fresh from the forge, used to care and maintain a blade as its life continues. 9: A blade that has felt the touch of magic within its steel. Perhaps it has acquired a new ability with this blessing. 12: The incorrect answer to the question “should I get a sword?” ACROSS 2: To push something to perfection. 3: One in a million. 5: Are you looking here for a clue? What do you expect to find? 6: Blood of the Earth. 8: Any good adventurer has a spool of this laying around. 10: A blade of plasma and a shield of light? This all sounds very hi- 11: The forge of the household. 13: Wildly impractical for a sword, but looks lovely.

Anyway shoutout to puzzmo 🙏🙏🙏

Yesterday’s sword!

You can support me on Patreon for £1 and help me make stuff like this!

[andhumanslovedstories]

When you’re doing a crossword and one of the clues has either a question mark or the phrase “in a way,” you know you’re gonna be FURIOUS at the answer after you spend fifteen minutes laterally thinking your way into the stupidest pun

[moonstruckme]

poly!marauders x reader but reader is contemplating their relationship?

(IDK IF YOU DO ANGST SORRY 😭)

No worries!! It's definitely not my most practiced genre but I'm happy to give it a try :) Honestly unsure if this came out as angsty enough, so please do not be shy and let me know if not! Thanks for requesting

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 886 words

James, Remus, and Sirius balance each other out perfectly. James is so sweet he should come with a warning label, always showering everyone in affection and bringing joy into every room he's in; Remus emanates a quieter sort of contentedness, and he provides a calm, rational perspective when the others need it; and Sirius takes everything they have together and dials it up to eleven, the depth of his feelings so intense that being around him is almost a sort of high.

The issue is, you're not sure where you fit into all that.

The boys seem to care about you, but you can't really figure out why. You have none of James' lightness, Remus' patience, Sirius' humor. You've been trying to hold onto this thing between you, to enjoy it while it lasts, but waiting for the other shoe to drop is becoming maddening. Eventually—someday soon, likely—they're going to realize that they're better off without you.

Naturally, you're pondering this while Sirius braids your hair, James chattering about why he thinks you all need a dog (Sirius has pointed out that you already have him) and Remus reading with his back leaned against your side.

You're trying to figure out the least needy way to ask why they care about you when Remus nudges you with a movement of his shoulder.

"You've been quiet tonight, dove."

It's far from accusatory, but the other boys pick up on the implication nonetheless. Suddenly, all the attention in the room is on you. It's a bit overwhelming.

"I was just thinking..." you say tentatively, unsure of your words. "Do you think we'll all stay together?"

James looks as though you've slapped him, and though Remus doesn't turn, you feel the muscles in his shoulders tense.

"Why would you say that?" James asks. "Of course I think so."

"But..." Merlin, there's no easy way to go about this conversation. "I just, I don't really see what I'm bringing to the table here." You cringe at your own words, awaiting judgement—or worse, epiphany—from your boyfriends.

Sirius, whose hands have been motionless in your hair since you spoke up, abandons his project entirely, letting your hair drop limply from his grasp. "Wha—what does that even mean, what you bring to the table?"

Remus turns around, placing a reassuring hand on Sirius' shoulder. "Easy, love," he murmurs. "Y/N, can you tell us what you're worried about?"

You look between them as Sirius comes to sit beside Remus, feeling stupid and immature. "Sorry, it's not...a you-guys thing. It's just that, I can see how well you work together, and why you love each other, but I don't really see why you'd love me." Your voice gets quieter as you finish, shameful of your thoughts and the position you know you're putting them in.

Sirius releases a disbelieving exhale, slumping into Remus' side, and the taller boy wraps an arm around him, looking at you like you're one of his crosswords and have just given him a particularly perplexing clue.

"Sweetheart," James says, pulling your attention towards him, "it's not a matter of why we would love you, just that we do. Do you need to list off reasons for why you care about every person in your life, or doesn't it just happen?"

"I don't need to," you admit, "but I could. I love you guys because of who you are."

"And so do we," Remus says. "Dove, we care about you. Isn't that enough? Can you trust us with that?"

"It's not..." It's not a matter of trusting them. You'd trust any of them with your life, with everything. It's that you don't trust yourself. It's that you're worried you won't live up to it, to this earnest affection they're offering you. You don't think you deserve it.

"How about this," Sirius says, in his typical cut-to-the-chase manner. "If we didn't love you—and have damn good reasons for loving you—we wouldn't be with you. So there." You must look unconvinced, because Sirius arches a brow. "You don't think that, with James' bod and Remus' hot accent, not to mention my boyish charm, we could have anyone we wanted?"

You crack a smile, but Sirius just looks at you, awaiting an answer. You shrink a bit under his gaze.

"You could," you say sheepishly.

"Right." Sirius grins suavely. "And we used those combined faculties to snag this hot piece of ass." Without warning, he reaches out and drags you into him, the two of you piling an unfair amount of weight onto Remus.

You squeal, and James shouts "Oi! Leave our poor Moony alone," tugging on Remus' arm until Remus sighs, disentangling himself from Sirius and going to sit beside James. James ruffles his hair, planting a triumphant kiss on the taller boy's cheek. If Remus blushes a bit, you pretend not to notice.

"Got that?" Sirius looks at you threateningly, but his voice is soft, his eyes imploring. "We want you, baby. Finders, keepers."

James nods as if this is a sage decree. "Think you might be able to get used to that?" he asks, and you know he's only partly joking.

You relax into Sirius' hold, giving Remus and James an apologetic look. "Yeah," you say. You can definitely get used to this.

[v0rpalsword]

On Calling Out Antisemitism... in the Crossword

So I like to do crosswords. It's fun, sometimes I learn random facts, it exercises my brain, and that jolt of satisfaction when I figure out the gimmick brightens my day. I usually do it on the Washington Post, which is the same as the LA Times, mainly because it's free (though these days I pay for the WP in large part because I like Alexandra Petri's pieces, but I digress.)

So there I am, working on the Sunday crossword at work on a quiet Monday morning, and the clue is "sanctimonious sort." Could be many things, I skip it and continue. Slowly, as I get some of the crosses, I say to myself, "surely this isn't going to be 'pharisee'. I'm gonna be so mad if the answer is 'pharisee.'"

The answer was Pharisee.

If you don't know why that's a problem, in brief: The Pharisees were the precursors to modern Rabbinic Judaism, and that word has been used by those enacting violence upon us for centuries-- throughout blood libels, Inquisition, crusades, expulsions, etc. When "pharisee" means "sanctimonious, hypocritical, self-righteous, etc." and "pharisee" also means "Jew" even of the historic variety, it tends to be extremely bad news for the actual living Jews of whatever era it is.

So I wrote the editors of the LA Times and the Washington Post, and I said so. I told them about the history of the term. I told them that at a time when antisemitism across the United States is rising alarmingly, it is, at best, deeply irresponsible of the newspapers to allow this insidious conflation of Judaism with moral corruption and hypocrisy to appear in what ought to be a light-hearted game.

And you know what? I got a response from the LA Times within hours apologizing for the harm and saying they'd reached out to the crossword writing company to discuss it. I got a response from the acquisitions editor, who had spoken with the crossword editor, conveying their sincere apologies, saying that they were unaware of the antisemitic implications of the term, and they would never intentionally cause harm. They thanked me for bringing it to their attention, and also thanked me for my suggestion of an alternate clue ("Contemporary of Jesus").

We on Jumblr and in the Jewish community offline have spent so much time talking our throats hoarse and our typing fingers sore about the harms of antisemitism, especially since October 7. I know many of us are feeling frustrated, burnt out, and hopeless. We start to wonder what the point is, when none of it seems to be making a dent. I almost didn't send that email. I almost let it go. I let myself be distracted by work, forgot about it for a week or so until something reminded me and I got angry all over again, and then I sent off an email that I expected to be buried in the inbox to maybe get a response in a month or so, because even if it never got read, at least I knew I had written it. But it did get read, and it got shared with the relevant people, and they cared.

Sometimes people listen. Sometimes they learn. Sometimes, all it takes is one person saying "hey, this hurt me."

I'm taking the win today.