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a-grayscale · 16 days

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Okay hear me out on this one, you know how during your run ins with the bishops during Crusades and such during the game they all seem relatively okay despite their injuries? (Relatively as in they’re definitely not actually okay, but they can still function just fine) Is it just me, or is that relative okayness most definitely because the crowns helped hold them together?

Like, the most obvious example of this I can think of would be Heket being able to speak during our encounters with her despite not having her throat. I feel like it’s pretty obviously the case there, right? The crown is allowing her to speak through it. I think that the other crowns allowed the bishops to function with their injuries by sorta holding them all together in godhood, yeah? We on the same page there?

Okay, hear me out. Narinder has serious, possibly chronic pain in his arms and probably also legs.

I mean, the guy was chained in place for a thousand years, there’s no way that’s not painful. More on that, considering we don’t know exactly HOW MUCH leeway those chains had(it’s obviously not a lot, but we don’t know if there was any at all or if it was one or two possible positions ever for 1000 years) there’s a good chance his bones and muscles and the ligaments and everything weakened over time to the point of being really fragile and brittle. We don’t know if he always had skeletal arms, maybe that was a symptom?

What does this have to do with the crowns holding the bishops injuries together? Well, what if the reason he didn’t move a whole lot during the boss battle was because he didn’t have his crown and thus, was in a lot of pain? I mean, we’ve all seen the boss battle, the dude hits hard but it’s almost always with chains or fire, or summoning enemies while he floats around. What if that’s because he hurt too much to move any more?

I think that’d add a really interesting dynamic between him and his desire for the crown, as well as his dynamic with the cult as a whole. A big reason he might want the crown back is because it helped dull the pain it’s bearer felt, just as the other crowns did to keep their respective bearers from falling apart.

I think it’d affect his dynamic and relationships within the cult because, like the other bishops post indoctrination, he wouldn’t have the luxury of a magic crown that helped with the pain. I’m not too familiar with chronic pain, but from what I’ve heard and seen and been told, it fucking sucks. I can’t imagine Narinder’s being any less sucky, at least not for a long long LOOOONG time. And when I say long time, I mean LOOONG TIME.

I think it’d also affect his relationships with say, the other bishops for example. Not to say that everything about them isn’t an absolute MESS already, cause it absolutely is, but I think they’d all feel at least a little guilty about the injuries they caused each other, even if they don’t admit it aloud. I mean, I’m no emotional undertones expert, but some of the dialogue leads me to believe they still at least CARE about each other somewhat as family. (Mostly mean Shamura’s dialogue during their bishop encounters, Narinder’s dialogue when receiving the silk from silk cradle, and Leshy’s line still calling Narinder his brother when asking the Lamb to retrieve his eye) Again, I’m no expert on feelings so I might be wrong here, but if you care about someone who you see is hurting, hurting BECAUSE OF YOU… I mean, even if it was self defense I’d still feel pretty fucking guilty personally, so there’s a good chance they’d probably feel the same.

I also think this pain Narinder has could affect his relationship with the Lamb(regardless of if you ship them or not, I do personally but you do you boo <3) I mean, they ARE still the leader of the flock. Narinder is now part of said flock. So he really is their responsibility. I feel like it would be a learning curve for both of them to at least SOME degree. Narinder hasn’t been without a crown that can dull the sense of pain until now so he probably doesn’t know wtf to do, and while The Lamb might have more experience from helping their followers who could also have had chronic issues, they’d still be pretty in the dark about it. I think it’d be a rough but necessary road for them both to cross in order to understand and help Narinder.

But this is all just head canon talk, so it might not matter. Idk but I hope it was interesting at least, or that it helped form some lovely little brainworms! Goodbyyyeeeee-

#cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl narinder #cotl lamb #narilamb #just a smidge #cotl leshy #cotl shamura #cotl heket #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa #If there’s anything else you headcanon #Feel free to comment #I’d love to hear any input

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skitter-kitter · 9 months

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Question for you (and if u don’t know then any other Lear Experts who may know the answer), with the pokemas anniversary coming up, do we consider that as Lear’s birthday?

I personally consider it as Lear’s birthday, but I’ve never really done anything for it. I personally think it would be very fun to make it Lear’s birthday! Especially since his and Hoopa’s Friendiversary has an actual Day I think he deserves a birthday

#skitty asks #anonymous #prince lear #if anyone else has any input I’d love to hear it #I love Lear having a summer birthday

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loonarmuunar · 11 months

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People talk about how weird it must feel to lose a limb. But I never see anyone talking about how weird it would feel for someone born without a limb to just suddenly have one. Obviously thats an impossible scenario but like. Still. For someone born without an arm to have all 4 limbs would feel freaky. Imagine you wake up and now you have a 3rd leg.

#idk I’m not an amputee or anything like that so I wouldn’t know #but like. if anyone who’s missing a limb/limbs has any input on this I’d love to hear it #amputation #missing limbs

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lolaandthens0me · 6 months

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Do you have any video packages for sale direct from you?

Hello there. Thanks for the question and interest.

I do not currently offer any paid content outside of JFF but am planning to expand my offerings there. I’d love input from all of you!! What kinds of custom content would you be interested in? And is there interest in being able to buy separate videos outside of being a subscriber?

I’m so curious as to what you all would like to see. If you have any specific kinds of videos or pics you’d like to see as a subscriber, I wanna hear about that too! I love being a slut and I love hearing about what does it for you.

Thank you, pervs! 🫶🏻

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lanaslovelyletters · 3 months

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𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 ³

𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬...

Anakin x Princess!Reader

Part 3

Previous chapter: Part 2

Overall series warning: 18+ content (smut), mature themes, swearing

Warnings: Light swearing (but who cares about this)

Last chapter recap: “The dark lord completely ignored your question, letting himself calm down before backing off and walking towards the door. Before he left, he got a final word in, “We’re to wed in a week. You’ll stay here until then.” What..?”

Summary: He continues to fend off your questions until you decide to be bold, to which he retaliates…

Word Count: 1.5K+

Author’s note: So many people asked to be on the taglist and ily guys ugh❤️ Also, sorry for going AWOL. Had a lot of stuff on my plate<3 Btw, for everyone on the taglist, don’t worry if you change your username. If I tagged you before, I can tag you again<3

Taglist: @blackthorngirl @formula1mount @bby-imasociopath @anakinsbaee @darthgloris @tatumrileyslover @itzmeme @lunalitva @marvellover98 @rorysbrainrot @moonlight-dreamer04 @kittyrumbl3r @itsoneofusworld

“You’re not being serious.” You scoffed, almost grinning, but when you saw the look on his face— everything melted into dread and disappointment. He stared at you with stern-looking eyes before shutting the door behind him. You heard sharp noises emerge from the door, meaning he locked it.

“You’ve got to be joking.” You laughed dryly before your body hit the bed. It was fluffy and felt like a warm hug. A stark contrast to the situation you found yourself stuck in. It was unbelievable, really. You were seriously to marry a Sith Lord. A slave to the dark side. Sure, he was handsome, but only as handsome as an apple could be.

Alas, you were far too tired to think about the whole ordeal. Your eyes grew heavy and it was becoming increasingly harder not to nod off… and finally, it grew all black.

(Break)

You woke up to the darkness of space creeping in through the single window you had in the room. It was impossible to tell how long you’d slept and how long you’d be staying there. Nobody would tell you a thing, and the Dark Lord would certainly never give you any answers.

A sudden knock pulled you out of your little trance, and the door burst open. In walked two troopers. They marched in, picking you up from the bed with a strong force. Didn’t Vader mention I’d stay here for a week? What’s going on? Ironically enough, you decided not to struggle or fight back. It’s not as if going back home was a choice anymore. You knew the dark side wasn’t forgiving anyway.

“I’m not a rag doll. I know how to walk,” you complained, as you felt your body sliding across the cold, polished floor. When there was no response, you scoffed. It was loud enough for them to hear, but it wasn’t like they cared. They were simply following orders like mindless robots. It was as if it was their input.

After passing through several corridors and riding multiple elevators, you finally found yourself being dragged along to a dimly lit dining room. The layout was nothing fancy. A large table and chairs to go along with it. On one end sat Vader. He still donned his pitch-black suit, with his eyes trained on you. The way his hair fell around his face and the way his Adam’s Apple bopped as he gazed at you— it was to swoon over. You were made to sit opposite him. You didn’t dare move. You knew he could end me with the flick of his fingers.

“I hope you have an appetite.” Maker, his voice. It was rough yet smooth, velvety yet rigid… you were drowning in the octaves.

“Not much of an appetite when I’ve just been taken hostage.” No, you couldn’t give in. He was handsome to be sure, but he was still a ruthless sith.

“Hostage? You’re not a hostage, love.” Love. What was he playing at?

“I’m… not?” Your eyebrows were furrowed along with a scrunch of your nose.

“Hostage implies you’re here against your will and that I await someone to negotiate for you… I plan to keep you.” Though his words seemed daring and almost devious, his facial expression and tone told you a different story. He was a wall. Cold and without feeling. He seemed serious and determined.

“Why me? How did you know my father? Why did you want my family killed?” You furrowed your eyebrows. His gaze remained fixed on you, as he breathed heavily and got up from his seat. His boots hit the floor in a threatening manner. When he stopped in front of you, his gloved hand held your chin softly. So soft that you almost felt comfortable in his presence.

“Curiosity killed the cat, princess.” As you let your head be lifted ever so gently, you saw the stark contrast between his touch and his demeanour. His stare was blank and icy. It was as if no life existed behind his eyes. Eyes that were otherwise so… never mind.

“Luckily, I’m not a cat,” Bold. Quite bold. Did you care? No. You had about as much control over him as he did you. He wasn’t going to kill you. No, if he wanted to, he would’ve done so in a heartbeat. He wanted to wed you. To have you as his bride. As sickening as the idea of that was, at least you wouldn’t die anytime soon.

“You’re quite carefree for someone who’s lost her entire family and been taken against her will.” You could’ve sworn you saw a faint smirk swiftly make an appearance before being washed out by his brooding expression.

Oh, but there was something about his face. It did seem familiar. You couldn’t place your finger on it. There wasn’t anything that stood out in particular, but oh there was something about his face.

“I’m talking to you,” he spoke in a rough voice, before tightening his grip on your face, burying his fingers into your cheeks

“I’m not scared of you, Sith.” A grin. His lips contorted into a wide smile as he let out a scoff,

“You’ve got moxie. I’ll give you that.” Your eyes met his. Force, if I had ever seen a man—

“Moxie? I beg to differ. Why would I be scared of a lowly Sith Lord like you? You’re not even the emperor. Are you even strong enough to—”

“Princess,” he breathed as he snaked his hand tightly around your neck, the pads of his fingers snuggled themselves into your soft skin. The tension was palpable. It could be cut with a knife. The way you continued to defy him and resist him…he hated it. You were such a pretty little thing, but so stubborn too. Too set in your ways.

“We all have our… limits. You’re starting to test mine, your highness.” Something about him addressing you as ‘highness’ clashed so hard with the circumstances you found yourself in; it gave you whiplash.

“I want answers…” your whisper came out shaky. Not because you were starting to lose your footing. No, it was his grip on your throat. If anything, you almost found him humorous. He was creating a paradox and running around in circles; essentially embarrassing himself.

“I don’t want to give you any.” You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. His logic was deeply flawed and there was no wrapping your head around where it started or ended. It was a mess. A tangled mystery for you to sit and braid together to form a clear path.

“I don’t want to marry you, but here we are.”

“Let me rephrase. I can’t.” His gaze diverted to the floor. He was clearly struggling. Either to recall or decide whether or not to do so.

“I don’t understand.” Your throat was slowly released, as he walked towards the door to the room.

“Can you at least tell me why you chose me? Out of all the women in this galaxy… Why me?” Your feet had somehow carried you off to go after him. He walked with purpose through several corridors, taking swings and turns to try and throw you and the question off.

“Please?” Admittedly, you were getting impatient. Desperate.

“Say, would you like to know how I went about ending your father’s life?” He suddenly turned around with a menacing look on his face. It wasn’t maniacal. It was as if you were staring into a blank wall.

“Excuse me?” What the hell is wrong with him? Your eyes darted to the floor before you lifted your head back up to meet his.

“I asked you if you wanted to know how I killed your father. How I—“

“No, I heard you the first time. How does that have anything to do with my question?” He smirked for a moment before his smile faltered,

“You’re completely unphased. Didn’t think the king was that much of a horrible father.” How could he address your father like that? With that knowledge? How did he know your father like that?

“Yeah, well… he was. So give me an answer to my question. Why me?” The two of you stopped in front of a large white door. It had a face recognition lock on it.

“Because… I know you.” His voice dropped an octave as he stared at your reaction. You weren’t shocked, just confused.

He scanned his face and the entrance to a dark room was revealed. You were just about to follow him before he turned around,

“Do you wish to retire with me for the night?” What? Your brow bunched up together and you lightly shook your head,

“No… of course not.”

“Then I suggest you stop following me.” A grin was apparent on his lips.

“Evening, princess.” The door closed behind him and you were left standing there; completely dumbfounded. However, this unlocked a window for you to walk around freely, trying to find a way to escape. There didn’t seem to be any stormtroopers around. Marrying a Sith was that of nightmare fuel. It didn’t matter how gorgeously his hair fell around his face and how his scar elevated his overall appearance. He was a Sith Lord.

You needed to find a way out. By all means necessary.

To be continued…

Please DM, comment, or ask to be added on the taglist<3

Here’s the masterlist<3

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deardjarin · 1 year

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save a horse (ride a cowboy)

agent whiskey x f!reader

sometimes you get a little… jealous

words: 1.5k

warnings: smut, office sex, mentions of voyeurism

⋆⭑✦⭑⋆

You know your partner.

You know how he flirts with most people he meets, but you also know how he would never be unfaithful to you. But, you can’t help but get a bit jealous when you hear him tease other girls.

You checked in two women for a meeting with the Agent: an older lady and a young college student who both work for a private investigation company. You can hear the younger girl giggling through the glass door- giggling. You’re sure Whiskey is pulling his usual tricks to strike a deal with the ladies.

You find yourself gripping your pen harder than usual.

The meeting ends at precisely 4:35.

The women kindly bid their goodbye, but the younger’s face is bright red.

Frustrated, you input the time into your system.

You smooth out your pencil skirt and fix your hair when you stand up. The room is awfully quiet; you need a certain Statesman agent to break the silence.

The automatic door opens with a quiet swish, revealing Whiskey sitting behind his desk. He’s staring intently at his computer, most likely sending off emails to his fellow agents.

“Jack Daniels.”

Whiskey beams, leaning back in his office chair.

“Well hell-o little miss,” He drawls, slightly tilting his head to the side. He beckons you with one hand, and pats his thigh twice. “C’mere, sugar.”

You keep your gaze firm, even though you want to stumble over to him like a newborn deer and collapse in his arms. Your heels click softly on the polished hardwood as you approach him, and instead of slipping into his lap, you stand behind him. Resting your hands on his shoulders, you give him a little squeeze.

“Did you have a productive meeting?” You ask, kissing his cheek. A bit of stubble pokes your lips, but you don’t mind.

“I sure did,” He replies, smoothing the fabric of his pants.

You twist a lock of his dark hair between your fingers, and trail more kisses down the sharp line of his jaw. He exhales a shaky breath, tightening his grip on the arms of the chair.

“Were those girls nice, Agent?” You continue. Whiskey shifts in his seat, noticeably aroused.

“They sure were- sweetheart, may I ask why you’re interrogatin’ me right now?”

You hum, running your fingers over the knot of his tie.

“I’m sure if you’d given them the chance, they’d be all over you,” You comment. “I mean, who wouldn’t? That’s what happened with us.”

The corner of Whiskey’s mouth turns upwards.

“Is that what this is all about?” He asks.

You maneuver yourself around and slip onto his lap, straddling his thick thighs with yours. His calloused hands immediately fly to your waist, steadying you.

“Maybe,” You breathe, cupping his face in both of your hands.

“You and I both know that I’d never touch another woman as long as you’re with me,” He says. His fingers find their way under the hem of your pencil skirt, and his touch burns.

“That so?” You ask, trying not to melt at his words. He hums, turning his head to the side and kissing your palm.

“You gonna let me show you how much you mean to me?”

You nod, breathless, and kiss him.

His kisses are always sloppy, a little messy, but they’re so full of passion that you don’t mind. Accidentally, you knock his cowboy hat off of his head.

“Are-“ You whine when his lips meet your neck, mustache rubbing against your sensitive skin. “Are you going to lock the door?’

“Maybe I’ll keep it open,” Whiskey drawls between kisses. “I’m sure those girls would love to see you, squirmin’ like a bug on my lap. Or maybe that shy little intern- what was his name? Frankie? I see the way he looks at you when he brings up papers.”

You moan, grinding your clothed cunt against his thighs.

“Jack…”

You’ve given up on your original plan. Whenever his hands- oh, his hands, cup your ass, you lose any semblance of rational thought.

Whiskey pulls away, making sure you’re balanced, and fiddles with the top button of your blouse. You usually keep a few undone because Whiskey likes it, but it’s clear he wants to see a little more than what you’re showing.

“Just gorgeous,” He groans when he fiddles with the last button, leaving your stomach and bra exposed.

“C-Can you lock the door?” You ask bashfully, shivering when Whiskey’s fingers brush over the curves of your hips.

“‘Course,” He says. Wrapping his arm around your waist to keep you steady, he leans forward and logs on to his high tech computer. There’s a faint beeping sound from the keypad outside of the frosted glass door.

“Make me so fuckin’ hard, baby,” Whiskey groans, gripping your wrist and guiding your hand to his crotch. As expected, your hand brushes against the hard outline of his cock, trapped in the fabric of his jeans. “Feel that? S’all for you.”

A strangled moan falls from your lips, and you give him a gentle squeeze.

“Let me-“ You stop mid-thought and hastily undo the clasp of his belt. The metal clang interrupts the sound of your heavy breathing: the only sound in the office. Your hands shake as you fiddle with his zipper, and with a deep breath you pull out his cock from his boxers.

Whiskey moans deeply at your touch. He’s warm and hard and you want him inside you so bad.

“Stand up, baby, take off your skirt,” He orders. You can see him clench his jaw, most likely restraining himself from standing up and throwing you against the desk.

Your legs are shaky as you unzip the back of your skirt, pulling the black fabric downwards. Watching you with dark eyes, your partner slowly pumps his cock.

“Sit back down, princess,” He murmurs, patting his thigh with his free hand.

Damn straight, You think. I’m his princess.

“Jack, I- I want to feel you.”

You notice the way his dick has left a wet spot on his dress shirt- shit, now he’s going to have to go home and change, all because of you-

“Mm!” You exclaim when Whiskey’s rough fingers find themselves inside your panties, pressing against your swollen clit. You have to grip onto his broad shoulders while he massages your wet cunt.

You’re a little upset when he pulls his hand away.

“Soaked.”

You feel like the air gets knocked out of your chest when he brings his fingers to his lips, tasting you.

“So sweet,” He growls. “Sweet like a goddamn Georgia peach. Wish I could taste you all day.”

His words feel like they make your body temperature rise to a thousand.

“Whiskey,” You half scold, half moan.

“Fuckin’- wanna bend over the desk? Let me fuck you from behind?”

You shake your head, gripping onto the expensive fabric of his suit jacket.

“Let me ride you, Jack.”

Whiskey throws his head back and swears. You let out a breathy laugh; you, and only you, can have him wrapped around your finger.

“I’ll let you do whatever you want,” He blurts, cock twitching against his stomach. “You gonna ride this cowboy, sugar?”

“Yeah,” You breathe, and your thighs shake as you lift your core enough so he can slip inside you. Whiskey holds your panties to the side while he guides the tip of his cock to your entrance. The two of you moan as you drop downwards, your ass pressing against his thighs.

“Shit,” He grunts through his teeth.

You take a moment to catch your breath before moving.

Jack keeps his hands on your waist, but leans forward to chase your lips. You cup his face in your hands, mindlessly kissing him while you move your hips. He fills you up so well, stretching and stuffing you in a way no one else can. You’re no stranger to this, in fact you’re quite skilled, but your legs still burn from the effort. It’s nothing compared to the way Whiskey’s cock slides in and out of you, though.

“Just like that,” He mumbles in between kisses.

You clench around him every time your clit brushes against his jeans. You’re sure Whiskey can feel it too; he squeezes his eyes shut each time it happens.

“S’good, sweetheart,” He praises. “Ready to cum?”

You shout in pleasure, nodding vigorously. His fingers find their way back to your clit, rubbing quick circles against you.

Your whole body shakes from your release.

It’s embarrassingly quick, but Jack keeps mumbling “that’s a good girl” in your ear. He continues to thrust into you, his movements becoming sloppy and erratic.

You slump against his chest while he finishes deep inside you, hips stuttering against your skin.

“Ain’t never had a better girl than you,” He says softly, brushing the back of his hand against your cheek. You smile; he always gets soft after he’s with you.

Before you can respond, the computer lights up.

Incoming Video Call: Agent Champagne

#hello gorgeous!#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey smut #jack daniels x reader #dearest writing

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cripplecharacters · 20 days

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In general, how would you approach writing nonhuman/feral characters with disabilities? How would you balance the symptoms animals usually show vs human symptoms, experiences and available accomodations?

I'm considering giving my Warrior Cats character with TBI-induced blindness (yes, I know, these books are awful about disability rep and yet I can't help but get attached) a guide animal of some sort, but... in real life blind cats can get by just fine using their whiskers, and though realism isn't a concern here, I'm worried that'll come across as nonsensical. However, I'm personally uncomfortable with writing yet another blind character that doesn't need mobility aids despite not being able to distinguish objects from one another "properly". He may not be totally blind, but I feel like I'd be contributing to the misconceptions surrounding my own condition that way. Thoughts?

Thank you for your ask! In real life animals, including cats, have been known to assign themselves as a guide for a blind packmate, usually walking on the side with less vision to help with navigation. Sometimes an animal of another species will act as a guide, but only if they’re bonded. This also occurs more often in domesticated animals, so if you don’t want the guide to be another cat you could do something like a dog, chicken or rat (though I’d imagine the last two would be hard to keep in a cat pack!).

You could also have your character able to move around unassisted in familiar areas that he is often in, but need assistance in unfamiliar areas.

As for writing your character, I’d say research how his injury affects his other senses. Touch, smell, hearing and limb movement can be affected by a traumatic brain injury, and it would definitely affect your character's ability to get around.

As of now, this blog unfortunately doesn’t have any blind mods (applications are still open as of posting this). However, you can check out other blogs for more information on blindness, such as BlindBeta, AskABlindPerson, and Mimzy-Writing-Online.

Have a lovely day!

Mod Rot

Hi!

When talking about TBI induced blindness, you have to keep in mind that it's different from ocular blindness. The brain-based type of blindness is called CVI, or Cortical Visual Impairment, and it's very common!

(Note: I have done a lot of research on CVI, but I don't have it myself. I heavily encourage you to check the blogs that Rot mentioned!)

A CVI will often have different symptoms than ocular blindness. For example, the character's field of view could be severely limited - the left (or right, or top, or bottom...) half of their vision could be non-existent, and the other half could be what is sometimes described as "incomprehensible". It could also present in infinitely different ways from that, as it can be very diverse!

CVI is often fluid and the person (or cat) can function very differently depending on the circumstances like fatigue or stress or even the weather. If he's having a horrible day he will be able to understand the visual input less than when he's doing fantastic.

With CVI, it's important to remember that visual acuity generally won't be the main problem, but the brain's comprehension of the image is. This is where cat-available accommodations can hopefully come in.

Showing him experiencing visual fatigue and how he deals with it could be one of them! During his kitty activities he could prefer to have them spaced out so that he only sees one at a time and makes it easier for his brain to comprehend without tiring him out. A cluttered environment would probably only make it worse, so you can have him make sure that everything is nice and in its place. He could also take longer to recognize new objects or cats.

If he has, for example, very limited field of vision, then he could have his kitty house (I don't know how warrior cats work I'm trying my best here) arranged so that it would work for him; i.e. everything being on a specific height.

I also very much agree with Rot that he should have more symptoms than just blindness! One example of a brain-based cat disability could be cerebellar hypoplasia; it can't be caused by a TBI, but it causes ataxia which can be a result of a TBI (mildly complicated, sorry). Either way you can use it as a reference to visualize how your character could move!

I hope this helps! I really appreciate the effort of trying to include disability accommodations in a character who's a forest cat.

mod Sasza

#mod Rot #mod sasza #blindness #brain damage representation #fantasy species #<- i know cats are real but IDK i think it fits there. four legged fantasy species and all

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the-guilty-writer · 1 year

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I'd Better Ask Emily

Request from anon: Hear me out😅 Spencer Reid x daughter!reader where the reader is a lesbian but is to scared to tell Spencer and Spencer someone find out by accidentally reading her diary or something?

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader

Summary: When Spencer goes looking for your school notebook and accidentally reads your diary instead he goes to the BAU bisexual badass for help.

A/N: I really wanted to do this justice so there's angst and fluff and bisexual Emily Prentiss because she had more chemistry with women than any male love interest. I’m also a sucker for Reid and Prentiss friendship so there is a good chunk of it in here.

CW: reader is gay, Emily is bi, let’s be honest everyone on the team is a little fruity, suggestions that Emily wasn’t supported, coming out of the closet, reader goes to social justice march.

---

“And my math homework is on the table for you to check over!” It was a Friday morning and you were in a rush to get out the door. There was a social justice march beginning at the national mall in half an hour and your AP government teacher had convinced the principal to cancel classes so every student could participate. Plus you were getting extra credit.

“What about your reading summaries?” Your dad asked you. Spencer always proof-read your graded assignments, per your request. It helped to have his genius input, though sometimes you wondered if he went easy on you. Since you were a child, you’d never made a craft or drew a picture or wrote something that your dad didn’t love.

“In my notebook on my desk,” you said hastily. “Bye, love you!”

“Love you too. Don’t get-” The door slammed shut. Spencer sighed. “Arrested.”

He made his way to your room. For the most part you were tidy, but your desk was a mess. Colored pens and highlighters, loose leaf paper with to-do lists, a stack of books that was falling over onto the jumbled surface. Spencer began to sift through the clutter, fixing the stack of books, putting your writing utensils in a pile, looking around for your notebook- but of course you hadn’t clarified which notebook. By the time he was done sorting through the mess there were five of them total. He began to read through them, trying to identify which one you wrote your reading summaries in.

It was down to the last two. Spencer grabbed the next one in the stack and opened to a random page:

I’ve never been one for poetry, but I find myself wanting to write verses on how her eyes crinkle when she laughs and the way her hips sway as she walks.

That sounded English-y and promising. Spencer kept reading.

I imagine her skin is soft, like velveteen, and her hair like expensive silk. The smell of her perfume is that of vanilla and honey; it reminds me of summer.

The sound of her voice is like a siren’s music. When she calls my name I can’t help but get up from my spot in the cafeteria and-

Wait.

There weren’t cafeterias in the book you were reading for school.

Spencer read the passage back again and again. He couldn’t help himself- he flipped to the front page to start from the beginning and finished reading the entirety of your diary in two minutes. There were entries spanning over two years, but one thing stuck out to Spencer more than anything else:

You talked about girls.

You talked liking girls.

Of course the diary contained passages on other things, like the day you visited your dream school and a cute dog you had met at the park… but you were dreaming of cute girls. And you never told him.

Spencer closed the diary and put it on your desk. His only thought: I’d better ask Emily about this.

---

Emily added a small amount of creamer to her coffee and went to sit down at her desk, highly regretting that she’d put her paperwork until the last minute again. The stack of files on her desk was beginning to rival Hotch’s, and that was not a competition she wanted to win. She sat down at her desk and opened up a file, pen in hand ready to go when-

“Um, hey Emily. Can I ask you something?”

If it was anyone but Spencer, she probably would have told them to ask her during the lunch break she wasn’t going to take, but there was a hesitancy in his voice that made her stop. Emily knew she looked like she might bite someone if they bothered her- Morgan had already gotten a taste of her mood that morning- but Spencer never seemed to notice when her annoyance rose to the surface. If he was uncomfortable it was because he had his own problem. He needed her help.

And she needed his speed reading to get through all the files on her desk.

“Morning, Reid,” she said, her annoyance turning to concern. “Is everything okay?”

“Well, I- uh- I kind of saw something I shouldn’t have this morning and I wanted to ask you about it.” He rubbed his neck nervously.

Emily tried to keep a straight face as she thought of every embarrassing teenage incident captured on video or sin-to-win photograph that could possibly be out there for Spencer to come across.

“What is it?” Emily asked, her voice wavering ever so slightly.

“You like women romantically, right?”

Okay… that didn’t rule out embarrassing adolescent mistakes or weekends in Atlantic City.

“Yes.”

“Because I accidentally read (Y/N)’s diary this morning and she writes a lot about being attracted to girls but she hasn’t told me yet and-”

“You read your daughter’s diary?!” Emily wasn’t sure if she was more shocked that Reid would do such a thing, or relieved that her privacy was still intact. “Reid-”

“It was an accident!” he said. “I was looking for her reading summaries for school and she told me it was in the notebook on her desk and then I just saw it…”

Emily hoped the devastation on Spencer’s face was for the right reasons.

“Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

Yeah… it was for the right reasons.

Emily sighed, leaning her elbows on her desk. “I’m sure that you demonstrate your open-mindedness at home-”

“I do.”

“And I’m sure you tell (Y/N) that you love her no matter what-”

“All the time.”

“But that doesn’t make it any less scary.”

Spencer didn’t respond.

“Coming out isn’t easy. No matter how sure you are that you will be accepted there’s always a little bit of doubt. There’s always the fear that it’ll change the fundamental way a person loves you and that you’ll never treat them the same.” Emily pushed away memories- memories filled with pain and relief and anxiety and frustration. The only thing that eased the thoughts were that she knew you wouldn’t have to go through what she did; not with Spencer as your dad. “She’s probably feeling really afraid, even if she doesn’t show it.”

“How can I make it better?”

Spencer’s genuine love for you- a love that every child should get to experience- made Emily feel as though she was falling apart and being put back together again all at the same time.

“Just let her know you love her,” Emily said. “A little goes a long way.”

---

As you walked up to the door of the apartment you felt like you were floating on cloud nine; for two years you had been crushing on this girl you shared classes with. You knew she was openly and unapologetically gay- making it a point to post pictures of herself on social media with pride flags and holding hands with her now ex-girlfriend. They had broken up about eight months ago and ever since then you’d hope that she would notice you. For three months the two of you had hung out in group settings- getting to know one another with other people there as a buffer- but you’d gathered your courage today to ask her out on a date. And she said yes.

“So I guess the march was good?”

You were so distracted from the events of the day you hadn’t even noticed your dad was home.

“Oh, yeah,” you said, startled. “It was good. Really good. Lots of… social justice and things.” You cursed yourself for not having a better answer. You should have been good at faking feelings and answers by now, having been raised by a profiler. Even then, Spencer always saw right through you.

The high you were on came crashing down- your dad always saw right through you. There was no way you could go on a date, let alone your first date, without him catching on. Discomfort grappled with your stomach and anxiety bubbled in your chest. You tried to reach for the courage you had earlier, but it was gone.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Your dad walked over and put a gentle hand on your arm.

“Uh-” You swallowed. “Yeah- yeah, I’m fine.”

Your dad suddenly looked weary. It was the same look when he told you he was going to miss your tenth birthday because of a case, or when he got a call that your grandmother’s medication wasn’t working as well as they had hoped.

“(Y/N),” he started. “I love you. I really hope you know that. And I’m glad you had a good day.”

“I love you too, dad,” you said, waiting for him to break bad news. But it didn’t come. He just gave you his awkward tight-lipped smile before tucking your hair behind your ear and turning away.

There was something about the gesture and the words that called the courage back to you. Well, some of the courage.

“I’m going on a date,” you blurted. Spencer turned back to you. You tried to look for clues on his face or in his body language that would tell you what he was thinking or feeling, but you were too caught up in your own head to make sense of any of it. “I asked someone out on a date and they said yes.”

Your father smiled wide. “That’s great, honey! Is it anyone I know?”

“Oh- um-” Spencer didn’t know many of your friends in person, but he knew them from what you told him, and what Garcia could dig up on them. “Yeah. They’re in some of my classes.”

You waited for your dad to call you out on the vagueness of your language, but he didn’t. He only continued to smile and encourage you to go on- is it a study date or a real date? Real date. Weekend or after school? Weekend. Are you taking the metro or do you want him to drive you? Actually it was a walkable distance.

The more you talked, the more excited you got. You were still careful to control your language, but the bravery was beginning to grow. You thought about taking a deep breath, but you didn’t. Instead you just said, “And she’s a girl.”

The world stilled for just a moment- your heart which was beating fast with excitement was now racing with panic. Your stomach was in knots and you felt your hands begin to shake. “I’m gay, dad.”

Spencer placed a gentle hand over yours, stopping it from quivering. The look in his eyes couldn’t be described as happy, but it wasn’t sad. No… it was peace. It was content.

“I know,” he said.

“You- you do?” The weight began to lift off your shoulders, but it was replaced by a bit of shock.

“Yes.” Spencer smiled. “Next time you should clarify which of your notebooks you wrote your assignments in.” Both of you chuckled, and you felt your body unwind as tension left your muscles. “And if it’s any consolation, I think your poetry is great.”

You smiled. “You always love everything I write.”

Your dad pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Because I love you.”

There was no more tension now- no more fear and no more doubt- just you and your dad being excited about your first big crush and your first big date. And it didn’t matter that it was with a girl. Spencer would always love you no matter what.

"So," he said. "What are you going to wear?"

You thought about the clothes you had, but none of your outfits seemed just right.

"I think I might go shopping for something new," you said.

Spencer smiled. You had a shopping buddy- the same one since you were little.

"So I guess I'd better ask Emily."

#criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer reid x child!reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x teen!reader #criminal minds x daughter!reader #criminal minds x child!reader #emily prentiss x platonic!reader

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evangelineshifts · 4 months

Text

I shifted again but not to my dr 😭😭 crying and throwing up cause I only register it after I wake up in my OR and I realize the last time I was awake I was NOT here.

I was taking a nap cause I’ve been ungodly tired lately. In my dream it was getting like weirder by the minute but it’s a dream so I don’t question it. When I’m about to wake up in my dreams usually my vision goes out and I can’t see anything until I wake up so I was like running away from this thing (too embarrassed to say what it was 😭😭) and I started flying and then my vision went black and I just kind of let myself lean into the feeling that I was gliding through air. I affirmed to myself that I was flying but with a subconscious undertone that I’m shifting as well and I felt a little scared but I just tried to push through it. And then I saw this outline of a face (???) I mostly focused on the eyes and I somehow knew that this outline was me. But it also was like a different me?? Not really my DRself cause my drself is my twin-self, it’s me. This was something different, it felt more powerful like she knew things, like she knew everything. It felt peaceful just kind of staying with her for a little bit. We didn’t talk I just kind of took some deep breaths with her (which was also weird cause I could literally hear the separate breaths she took) and lingered. Then once I was calm enough she asked me if I was read, her ‘mouth’ didn’t even move or anything I just looked into her eyes and knew (???) is this making sense. And I nodded and then I was in motion again only for a split second before I could see an image coming into focus. It took a little bit and only one of my eyes was open but it looked like I was looking at a phone. I could read all the words but I wasn’t really taking any of it in. It felt like I had just woken up after accidentally falling asleep while reading a fanfic (which I would never do I’m too paranoid to ever fall asleep in the middle of something). But I tried to to let my eyes open all the way cause I thought I was just in my OR and I didn’t want to wake up fully before trying again so I closed my eyes again and that was it ☹️ ☹️ I woke up in a different position my phone was off and thrown to the side and I was groggy.

ps. if anyone has any input or ideas on the whole other me thing I’d love to hear it cause I’m a bit ????

✧ dividers by @hitobaby !

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hellfirebride · 1 year

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I really love how realistic your headcanons are, ooc saturated fandoms kill me. 😭 I was wondering if you had any thoughts on L falling in love e.g traits he’d fall in love with, moments he’d make the realization, how his behavior would change towards the person of interest over time, etc. I’m not sure if I worded this well or if you’ve already done this, if so then don’t mind meee. 😬 if you don’t wanna do this one or already did then I’d be happy just to hear literally any hc’s you have about him lol

first req first req first req

hiiiiii !

So, L falling in love. Putting this under a read-more because my stupid ass is going to ramble.

I think he would usually fall in love with people who are relatively capable. I have no idea how to describe this more. You wouldn't have to be some genius, just be able to operate independently because the man is no caregiver. Also, I think you'd have to make an impression of some sort on him, otherwise he probably wouldn't even pay enough attention to get to know you. A big trait L would like to see in someone is understanding. You're gonna have to be able to at least tolerate his attitude and more bizarre mannerisms if you intend on becoming a permanent fixture in his life. Even more than that, he would want someone who would be able to understand just what kind of person he is: how he's not exactly pure, how he would rather do things if they interest him instead of doing them out of the goodness of his heart, the things he's willing to do to get the results he wants. You don't need to agree with him on everything, he probably would like it more if you didn't. You can't change him, but it gives him more to think about when he weighs his decisions.

So! L falling in love. I did touch on this in a previous post, but I'll paste what I said here:

L will know as soon as his feelings appear. Depending on what he's doing at the time, this discovery could be anywhere between a mental footnote and an outright statement directed towards you. He's become fond of you, far beyond a passing fancy or a momentary infatuation. He'll be requesting your input on whatever he's been working on, or making sure Watari knows to bring extra sweets when you're present. If you're really lucky, he might just feed them to you.

I think it's something he would figure out super quickly and then just. Sit on until he's pretty sure you feel the same. He doesn't want to have to confess just to find that you don't share his affection. 10/10 you can just expect a "I've fallen for you" from him and have no idea how genuine it is because it wouldn't be unusual for him to say things like that to get a reaction. You would have to pay attention to how he interacts with you and matters regarding you to know just how true his statement was. (To a point, I think he'd kinda be lowkey obsessed with you. Like, he's not gonna be thinking about you all the time or think about you over the case he's currently working on, but there's definitely something there.)

Things you can expect from L when the two of you are an item:

Don't be surprised if he encourages you to pick up some kind of defensive martial arts. He knows several, so it's really not a shocker. The man's really thinking you need to learn how to beat the shit out of someone so it's one less thing he has to worry about now that he's let you in.

Luxury. Absolute Luxury. L's funds are near bottomless as far as you should be concerned. You have his heart but he's not always the most emotionally available, so you have his wallet. If you're travelling with him, he's actively making sure you get the best. Watari probably would've picked up on your tastes and knows to accommodate them if he wants the detective's best work. An extra slice of cake meant for you? Sure. A whole floor of the headquarters building just for you? Take two.

Vulnerability! Holy shit, vulnerability. It's something that's so rare for him to show. He's almost always working like, five steps ahead of everything else, why would he need to be vulnerable? I think I can count the times he's canonically showed his cards on one hand and most of them were in the episode where he fuckin' dies(showing some regret over the deaths of the FBI agents, the interaction he has with Watari in the monitoring room where the older man asks him what's wrong or w/e, the rooftop scene, the foot thing, and then him dying.) He's more willing to show the cracks in his façade to you, and that in itself is super powerful evidence about how you make him feel.

I absolutely think he would have some kind of system set up to look after you if something happened to him. They had the dead man's switch to let Roger know if L died so whatever successor would know to take over without letting the world know the original L was gone, but that seems more like something Watari would've insisted on. A place to live, expendable funds, hell there's probably options for a new identity in there somewhere if that's what you'd want.

aaaaa i've never filled a request before so i rlly hope this is satisfactory djgfhfjghf. i hope it's in character enough, at least. i always kinda stress over like. what if my interpretation of a character is total dogshit and people don't like my writing. thanks for the ask!

#dn #death note #L my love #ask mothy #reply #death note headcanon #l death note #l lawliet #l lawliet x reader #i guess

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vaspider · 3 months

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Yo, so this is less so a specific ask and more me having the need to verbalize some stuff with the option of getting input from someone with a more knowledgable perspective. I have been thinking a fair bit about Judaism and dabbling with the idea of converting to it. I don’t think it’s something for me, but I am tentatively thinking about the option.

The thing is. I assume you’re familiar with the difference between hard magic and soft magic systems in writing. (If not, the tldr is hard magic is defined with hard rules and limitations and soft magic is more ambiguous and fluid.) And I think my basic thing is that I am very open to what you could call soft spirituality and faith, but unable to jell with any hard beliefs.

For example I can never get myself to really entertain the idea of an afterlife being set up in a very specific way with specific rules and where you know what is happening and why. But I saw that tweet that went around a while ago that was like “I hope that death is like being a child at a party and falling asleep, so somebody carries you to bed and I hope when I die I can still hear the laughter from the other room” and that fucked me up beyond words.

I have gone through a couple religions and beliefs over my life and never found a framework that really fit with me, but in the past couple of years I have developed a lot and realized I have a yearning for spiritual things. My current view could probably best be described as a pantheist leaning agnostic enamored with the idea of belief and experience shaping purpose and giving structure… sort of. As well as the power of belief and to change the way you see the world for the better. It’s hard to explain specifically the angle I like.

The reason I am caught up on Judaism rn is that in a lot of ways it seems to be based around a lot of soft spirituality. I am absolutely in love with the idea that god, or the divine, or spirit, whatever one may call it is not something concrete, not one existence, but more of a force like the laws of physics, or the rules of math. I adore the idea of little rituals and rules to bring god into your life and through that connecting you to culture and history and people and community and spirituality. I love the idea you talked about some time in the past of the four kinds of jews, based on studying the scriptures and following the rules, and that even those who do neither are still a vital part of the jewish people and are needed for it to be whole. There’s so many little details that appeal to me so strongly, because they’re exactly the kind of stuff I am yearning for.

But I feel like the hard aspects keep me away. I love the idea of rules and rituals to shape your life, but I don’t think I could follow the rules of Judaism, because having a preset set of rules feels too hard for me. Similarly I love the idea of studying the texts and the never ending pursuit of decifering the meaning and arguing about it, but I don’t think I could get interested in ever doing it, because having a specific text to do it with is too hard.

So I feel very conflicted, because the way Judaism feels to me from the outside, it shows me both the soft aspects of spirituality I absolutely adore and yearn for, and at the same time the hard aspects that keep me away from religion. And they feel very connected and interwoven.

And it feels like especially as a convert being a part of it is connected with a huge amount of the hard aspects and a lot of work that goes into those. I’d have to first figure out if there is even any jewish denominations (is that the right word?) near where I live that don’t do circumcision and that aren’t on the conservative side (I have no idea how the situation is where I live) and then do all the studies and the entire process involved in converting (which I admittedly don’t know very much about either, so I might be overstating this) to be part of something I would immediately take a half step away from because I’m only really interested in the ideas behind the actual elements of it and not as much the elements themselves if that makes sense?

I guess this is pretty rambly, but maybe you have some input, or something smart to say and if not I hope I’m not coming across as this guy right now:

I think that in the process of writing this ask, you seem to have figured out that this isn't for you right now. If you get to a point where all of those things aren't standing in your way but are a to-do list, that will be when you know it's for you.

And they're generally called movements, not denominations.

#very old ask #Judaism

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trendywaifus · 5 days

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Hey if you’re planning to add to the Spiderverse AU again(PLEASE DO I NEED MORE) what if Robin sang on stage as spider woman and her secret identity wasn’t just to hide from villains but fans too, and maybe in terms of movement she glides and uses the webs to pull herself higher when she’s starting to get too low(I feel like a bitch suggesting ideas for something you probably already have planned out but I just thought of these out of nowhere and thought I’d share, you don’t have to respond to this just consider them)

ill respond to this anyway to acknowledge that ive read your ask 💚

but yeah i def will be releasing the next spiderverse fic soon. (hopefully before this month is over cus college is starting early next month.) but this is a cool idea! it would make sense for robin to glide and only use her webs if she needs to pull herself back up! she’s an angel after all!! i honestly want her to still be a halovian than a human. but i think I have sum in mind! we’ll see!

and no, you’re okay! i love to hear some ideas I could input in my fics! everyone is free to share their ideas. i’m still figuring out the plot for the stelle and robin fic so any ideas helps my brain juices work!

ty for this non non rahhh

#trendy #spideyverse au

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vendetta-if · 8 months

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Hi, I just found a little typo :

"The maître d' presents a plate of gourmet pancakes drizzled with maple syrup."

I think 'hôtel' is missing here

It's at the start of the scene in the hotel restaurant

Oh! I thought we can shorten “maître d’hôtel” into just “maître d’” in English. I feel like I read it somewhere before. But also, English is not my native language, so, I’d love to hear any input in the comment section 🤔

#asks #anon ask #grammar/typo #chapter 3 #if: vendetta #if vendetta #vendetta if #if game #if wip #dashingdon #choicescript

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cherrys-writings · 9 months

Text

Exhaustion

Just something a litte short and fluffy

slight angst, reader is overwhelmed

Your heart sank with every ring. He’s not gonna hear it. You shouldn’t have bothered, all grown up and you can’t handle these days on your own.

You pull the phone away from your ear, tossing it onto the empty part of the couch. You try to calm down, telling yourself to power through it and things will slow down again soon. Soft footsteps sound behind you and the knot in your throat tightens, Grayson leans over the back of the couch to kiss the top of your head. You manage all of three words, “I can’t Gray,” before sobs wrack your body.

Grayson was immediately beside you, “talk to me.”

He didn’t force you to look at him when you started rambling, “There’s all these expectations from my family and projects they want my input on. I’m finally leading a project at the company and I get…..I don’t know, bombarded by everyone just wanting to help. A-and then there’s family obligations and helping my sibling plan their wedding and spending all my free time with everyone, so no one thinks I don’t love them.” Grayson pets your hair, pulling you closer on the couch. Ignoring how wet his shirt is.

“I can’t be this talkative with them all the time, Grayson. They need to know I want to be around them, but I’m exhausted. Being this, this,” I wipe at my cheeks, gesturing in search of the word, “This….out with everyone all the time. Before I say anything I have to make sure it's not too blunt, that it makes sense in context of the conversation, my tone doesn’t sound condescending. It’s so much work just to hold a conversation. No matter how much sleep I get, I’m always tired.”

Gray rubs circles on your back, pulling you tightly against him, as if he could will the emptiness away. He sighs, “I’m proud of you darling. Your family shouldn’t push you to be a certain way. I love you. I love your straightforwardness, the unique connections you make between things when we talk. And I love quiet times with you. Right now, it sounds like you need some quiet. Can you take some deep breaths with me?”

You nod and focus on matching your breath with his. Grayson’s steady heartbeat slows your mind, his presence an anchor. Hitching breaths eventually turn into a massive yawn and you feel the rumble of Grayson chuckling.

Gray leans back to look at you, “How about you come with me and get some genuine rest.”

You’re too drained to protest when he stands, lifting you with him and carrying you to your room. Gray sets you on the bed, walking to fill the bathtub, jasmine scent floating out. He returns to grab your pajamas and lead you to the tub.

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” you say watching him turn as you remove your clothes and step into the steaming water, “you can join me if you like.”

Grayson turns back, making almost no effort to hide his lingering gaze, “You’re supposed to relax. Besides, I’d rather not boil myself alive tonight.”

You flicked water at him while he retreats from the room.

Grayson was already in bed, stretching his arms towards you and making grabby hands when he saw you step out. You pull the blankets over you both and rest your head on his chest.

“Tell me a story,” you whisper.

“I don’t know any.”

“Please, Gray.”

“Fine.” You don’t need to see his face to know he’s rolling his eyes and smirking. “Once upon a time, there was a fairy. Now this fairy wasn’t like the ones in old tales who stole children and trapped people in impossible deals.”

“Let me guess, they’re not like other fairies,” you mime tucking your hair behind your ear

“Hey, this is my story,” he chided, “As I was saying. No this fairy wasn’t like the fairies of old tales or even like the new tales. He didn’t have a scarred face with a metal eye, or arms covered in tattooed symbols that flowed over his chest and back. Some might say he was better than all these fairies because he didn’t have bat wings or violet eyes flecked with star light.”

You lightly smack his shoulder, laughing, “Leave my book boyfriends alone.”

Grayson turns, both of you on your sides. His hand drags up your arm, coming to gently tilt your chin up and presses a kiss between your brows.He rests his chin on the top of your head, rubbing slow circles on your back, the feeling pulls your mind away from the earlier worries. Your eyelids grow heavy and almost miss when Gray says, “I promise I’ll always help you through the hard days.”

**************************

A friend convinced me to give ACOTAR a second chance....new thing to obsess over

#grayson hawthorne fluff #grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson hawthorne fic #the inheritance games fic #the inheritance games #the hawthorne legacy #grayson x reader #grayson hawthorne #libby grambs #jameson hawthorne #avery grambs #the hawthorne brothers #nash hawthorne #the final gambit #the brothers hawthorne #grayson hawthorne needs hugs #hurt/comfort #fluff

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nerdyqueerandjewish · 3 months

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obviously these things are not all on the same scale but the compounding of personal, communal, and global events just have me 🫠

- End of Sept my beloved childhood dog had to be put down

- October 7th, Hamas attack

- October 9th, get a call from my dad that he’s flying in because grandma unexpectedly took a downturn

- October 10th, nervously waiting for my dad’s update all day. Finally get it and hear that things are critical but stable. He feels optimistic after talking to the doctor. He was able to talk to her too. She’s too tired in the evening because dialysis is tiring,but I should visit tomorrow.

- October 11th wake up early and can’t go back to sleep. Go get coffee just for something to do. Gets call at 6:58 from my dad and I know it can’t be good. Go to the hospital. See her. Give the doctors permission to start palliative care so she’s more comfortable. Hold her hand. Give her so many forehead kisses. She cant talk, but she tears up when I tell her how much I love her and my future plans. My dad is wearing a stupid fucking pro-cop shirt and I can’t help but be angry about how clueless he is and for adding this stupidity to a day that’s going to be etched into my brain for the rest of my life. Every 15 minutes or so when the nurse checks in, they remind us that there no rush, but we can take her oxygen mask off whenever we are ready. When are we ready? How are we ever ready? We know she doesn’t want to be kept on life support. Are we ready? We know she is experiencing some discomfort all hooked up like that. Are we ready? Let’s wait for one more person to get here. Are we ready? We wish she could tell us what she wanted. Are we ready? After everyone got to say goodbye. I think my partner was the one to finally suggest that it was time and I agreed. Or was it me who said it? My dad was looking for any input. An only child, not wanting to make these decisions alone. I slip into my historic role of eldest daughter, not even much younger than him anymore, knowing a decision is better than no decision. My sister and I each have one of her hands. As soon i can no longer hear her last exhale, the doctor comes in to declare her time of death. People spend different amounts of time after. My sister has to go back to work. My dad stays around, then says he’s going to grab his sweatshirt from his truck, then texts and says he’s going to find somewhere for us to get brunch. I spend about an hour with her after she was gone. Holding her hand, kissing her forehead, rubbing her arm until it’s completely cold. It takes longer than I’d thought. I keep a lock of her hair. It’s hard to leave her bedside. Next time I touch her body it will be pulverized bone that I’m trying to scoop into a locket. My partner and I get brunch with my dad.

This grief is by far the most difficult thing I’ve had to deal with in my life, and I don’t think my life has been particularly easy. She was the source of unconditional love I could depend on in my life. She was only 68 so I took for granted there would be more time. I’m able to cling to knowing that she was ready even if I wasn’t, that she had a peaceful death with people she loved. Meanwhile I’m seeing headlines every day grief multiplied over and over again, learning more about the attack, learning more about the Israeli military response escalating, bombings, bringing more and more death and grief. Violent deaths with last moments that haunt and terrify me. Deaths where the mourners do not get the comfort that I’ve been clinging to. Grieve for Jews and I have people who I consider my peers deciding that this means I’m some sort of right wing nationalist who doesn’t give a shit about Palestinians. Grieve for Palestinians, and people in my community think I’m some sort of self hating jew who believes terrorists attacks are justified. Feeling rejection on multiple fronts when shit is real. Even writing it I can hear a response of “really, feeling rejection is hurting you? People are dying!” And it’s like YES- people dying doesn’t mean that suddenly we no longer experience the human need for connection AND the thing that’s causing this rejection is seeing people’s humanity and CARING ABOUT THOSE DEATHS.

Really I just don’t know how a person can’t see their own grief and pain reflected back again and again in other people.

Don’t really have a point to this aside from the fact that this is definitely warping my brain in new and exciting ways but just shout out to people who are dealing with Major World Events and Major Life Events at the same time time. It sucks ass.

#tw grief #death tw #do not clown on this post or I will go insane

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ralphiesaces · 4 months

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hi!! the pundit!jenson/driver!seb idea has me obsessed, i cannot stop thinking about it *crying emoji* i need to know everything!!

i don’t wanna give too much of the plot away but ofc!!!!!

i already mentioned that jenson was never an f1 driver but he still tried!! he raced all the way up to 2000 (right before he entered f1) and had to stop

so officially the story will take place in 2012, the year after seb’s first championship

it’s jenson’s first year actually covering f1 though! sticking to motogp and the lower levels like formula renault for comfort reasons

he’s still friends w mark and i mention pretty early on that mark is the person who persuaded him to come to f1

pundit!jenson obviously still has a lot of knowledge about the sport first hand, especially what it’s liking growing up surrounded by it and not quite making it to the top

for those reasons his insight seems to make him more likeable than other pundits/reporters bc of experience

and we’ve all seen jenson, who doesn’t love his cheekiness and humour in interviews

bc of his personality and connection w mark he gets close to the main members of the grid, or at least familiar w them

im kinda new to f1 so i can’t guarantee that the terminology will be any accurate but here’s what will be: jenson still comes up w the britney nickname lol

(he means it affectionately)

okay now about sebson

obviously jenson’s heard about him before bc of mark’s complaining and you know, him winning a championship

but they’ve never actually met and bc of jenson’s slight aversion to the sport before the story takes place, he didn’t know what he looked like

but they meet and jenson doesn’t realize but he’s immediately entranced

seb can keep up w his humour and man what’s more important than that

they don’t interact too much in the beginning

but you know, seb enjoys jenson’s interviews along w the rest of the paddock so they get pretty comfortable w each other

uhhh then plot happens (dm me and i can tell you lol)

also most of the story will be from jenson’s pov

some side plots!!!!

after they become friends, seb will watch jenson’s interviews just to hear his voice

mark had a karting bday party that year and invited some of the grid— jenson beat half of them

(the reason that jenson stopped racing isn’t public knowledge so they kinda just thought it was bc he was bad lol)

the media starts including jenson when talking about the grid out of habit (at least when they’re talking about non-racing related topics)

jenson parties w mark and fernando the most (bc ofc he would) but never drinks too much (ooc but related to plot lol!)

uhh yeah i can’t think of anything else rn and i don’t wanna share too much publicly but yeah!!!!

also share your thoughts too!! i’d love to have someone else’s input! 🫶

this will be posted on ao3 after i finish (which might be a while sorry)

- banksway on ao3

#jenson button #sebson #sebastian vettel #f1 #formula 1 rpf #formula 1 #formula one #op #aliferous #pundit!jenson au

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