#but let's see how an edit by Harper does
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Shadow Curse Events Pt. 1
Ketheric, Selûne, Shar, and Aylin
I’ve played through the game a few times at this point and I always find myself struggling to understand the timeline or at least order of events that occurred with the Shadow Curse. I know some things conflict because there was one version of the story in Early Access (the version where Halsin accidentally killed Isobel) and it was heavily altered for the final version of the game, and some things just got *gestures vaguely* waved away, but I keep wanting to make sense of it anyway.
So that’s what this post (edit: I mean series) is going to do. After the cut, obviously. Long deep dive post ahead! Picture of a tired Ketheric for attention and because same bro c':
TLDR: These events happen either in the 1370s or the 1390s. Ketheric loses Melodia (his wife) and Isobel (his daughter) and turns to Shar. He captures Aylin, then builds a Big Dark Justiciar Army, training them and forcing them to kill Aylin over and over. Meanwhile, a Selûnite resistance is brewing in the town, and it's kind of making everything worse. One Selûnite rebel even goes so far as to make a deal with a devil. And all of that is BEFORE the Harpers and druids arrive as an army.
We don’t have dates, unfortunately, aside from knowing that the shadow curse itself was unleashed about a century ago, so “timeline” would be a loose term to use if/when I use it. But I have two theories about when it happened.
One theory is that because the Spellplague was happening between 1385-1395 DR (during which there was neither a true Weave nor a Shadow Weave, which is what the shadow curse is made of), the shadow curse likely started around 1396-1399, just shy of a full 100 years before the game’s events in 1492. But that’s just me conjecturing based on the idea that if the Shadow Weave is gone…how does the shadow curse stick around?
The other theory is that the shadow curse was unleashed sometime between 1371 and 1374. This is because a) Dark Justiciars were still being sent by Ketheric Thorm to destroy Moonhaven (the Blighted Village) in 1371 (Ketheric writes a letter about attacking Moonhave and a journal dated 1371 boasts that Ilyn Toth, the basement apothecary-necromancer dude, got killed by Dark Justiciars) and b) because Khelben Arunsun himself, the literal Blackstaff (super powerful and very old wizard), wrote a letter negotiating surrender on behalf of the Harpers.
We cannot be party to the suffering of the people of Reithwin, and indeed, of the great loss of life that this war will visit upon the Sword Coast - and, perhaps, beyond it.
So it is written, and so let it be done,
Khelben Arunsun, on behalf of the High Harper Council and its allies.
Wiki says Khelben broke his alliance with the Harpers in 1370 due to some disagreements, but it’s possible his splinter faction was at the battlefield with the other Harpers. I doubt he was there personally, but who knows. I wouldn’t go any earlier than 1371, though, because Baldur’s Gate II happens in 1369, and Jaheira would have been too busy dealing with those events to deal with Ketheric too. But it can’t be later than 1374, because Khelben Arunsun dies in 1374.
(I have questions about how the shadow curse survived the Spellplague and the loss of the Shadow Weave, but the answer to that could simply be All Magic Was Weird and Unstable at the time…plus Thaniel was already in the Shadowfell by this time, so the land couldn't heal.)
So it’s either 1371-1374 (because of the Khelben timeline, and I guess the Spellplague didn’t affect it) or it’s 1396-1399 (because of the Spellplague, but the writers just forgot Khelben was dead by that point, or maybe his ghost wrote the surrender notice idk). Both are good enough for Halsin and Jaheira to talk about things happening “a century ago,” but you can see why I’m avoiding dates.
But let’s push it back a few more decades. Back when Ketheric was a Selûnite and Isobel a very small child.
As we’re probably all well aware, during this time, Ketheric worships Selûne along with his wife, Melodia. At some point, he even commissions the local Mason’s Guild to build Moonrise as a testament to Selûne herself, according to Morfred the mason (who you can talk to in House of Hope, it’s pretty cool). Ketheric and Melodia have Isobel, but then Melodia dies while Isobel is still pretty young. Ketheric remains a Selûnite, mostly for Isobel’s sake, until she dies too.
Ketheric: I’ll tell you a story, True Soul. About a man who sold himself piece by piece. He had…everything. A wonderful wife. A brilliant daughter. They lived not far from here. His wife died too young. Grief tore through their home like a thief, snatching away the scent of her hair, the rustle of her skirts. But the man did not break. He could not break. His daughter needed him whole, after all. She grew up—grew strong. Challenged him. Filled his heart with such joy it supplanted all sorrow. When she was killed, the man…he tried to remain whole, but it wasn’t possible. Do you understand?
Player: So the man fell to pieces.
Ketheric: The pain was unbearable. All-consuming. He decided he’d do anything for reprieve. First, he sold himself to the goddess of loss. But the pain did not subside, no matter his obscene feats of devotion. Then a new god came—a god who promised the man something wonderful: his daughter. Her life returned. Imagine it. He would have to give everything: his body and soul entire. He did not hesitate. Not for a moment.
We know this story. Ketheric turns to Shar and everything goes Very, Very Badly. But the exact details/order of Ketheric's Sharran days are a little hazy. So here's what I've been able to piece together to sate my own curiosity.
While Ketheric is still a faithful (but waning) Selûnite, Dame Aylin visits as an emissary of Selûne. Moonrise/Reithwin is a Selûnite refuge and the Thorms are allegedly devout favorites of the moon goddess, so it's a big deal. While she's there, she and Isobel fall in love. Ketheric disapproves, in part because Aylin is immortal and Isobel is not (Isobel and Aylin both say this in dialogue).
Plus, and this is a personal opinion, I think Ketheric might have seen Aylin's interest in Isobel as another thing Selûne was trying to take from him. It isn't enough that Selûne let Melodia die, now her daughter is trying to woo his daughter and take her too.
But then Isobel dies. Somehow. The launch version of the game isn’t clear how. Aylin mourns but Ketheric spirals. He turns to Shar, hoping she will force him to forget about Isobel, but he doesn't. Nevertheless, he becomes a zealous Sharran.
[A journal spanning years, beginning with the birth of a child and ending with what appears to be a series of dateless tragedies.]
How can she be gone? Where did she go? The Moonmaiden cannot be so unfeeling - so cruel. Not toward her most devoted servant. Not after Melodia.
It makes no sense. It makes no sense. I won't survive it. That much I know.
Forgetting is the only possibility. The embrace of oblivion. The reprieve of nothingness. It would not be possible for a man to survive knowing what he knows. Knowing what can be lost. Shar understands that. Hers is the only mercy I can comprehend. My mind is full of holes - yet not enough.
The emptiness.
The time.
The nothingness.
And still I remember. Still I remember it all.
There is no mercy in this beating heart.
There is no mercy in life at all.
He builds the Gauntlet of Shar (or maybe renovates and Shar-ifies it, maybe it was already there) beneath the Thorm mausoleum, connecting it to the much more ancient Grymforge area. Grymforge becomes a kind of base or stronghold for the Justiciar army while the Gauntlet is designed to test their mettle and prepare them for the task that will make them official Dark Justiciars—killing Aylin, though it's not clear when Ketheric and Balthazar lure her into the Shadowfell.
I'll get back to that later.
We know that Grymforge was used as a Dark Justiciar stronghold and possible training ground because of all the Sharran stuff we find there. It's like super obvious. The feasthall room, the dormitories, the weapons that lay everywhere. There's basically a whole Sharran city in the Underdark beneath and near Reithwin, some of which we can see from various points in Grymforge. In fact, if you go through the poisoned room where Nere is, you can see the Gauntlet down below.
(It's a little hard to see here 'cause I play on console but there's a glimpse of the giant Shar statue that takes up a ton of space in the Gauntlet. Somehow, the two places used to connect.)
Ketheric's new Sharran teachings are ruthless and vicious. He encourages his Dark Justiciars to kill a Selûnite once a tenday or more as part of their training and service to the Lady of Loss.
The Law of Nightfall: From the moon falls the foulest of lights. iIt peeks through cracks and fissures, illuminating the most remote recesses of the Underdark. Light bestows hope, a pernicious notion which must be extinguished. At the darkest hour, pray to your Lady and feast in Her honour. The second day after, slay a disciple of Selûne. If none may be found, a Lathanderian or Mystran are an acceptable offering.
Do this once a tenday, and the Lady of Loss shall know you.
Reithwin and the surrounding village soon become a hunting ground. Most people convert. Those who don't get hung in the square as examples (according to a shadow memory). All faithful Selûnites are forced to practice their devotion to the Moonmaiden in secret, led by Morfred the mason and his brother Halfred the innkeeper of Last Light Inn. Halfred hides Selûnite relics beneath Last Light (you can still find them) while Morfred plots a true resistance.
[Hidden amidst columns detailing the income and expenditure of a tavern is an aside, written in tiny, urgent handwriting.]
I have concealed the sacred relics of our revered goddess in the darkest corner of this place. Morfred, my loyal brother, seeks to forge a network of allies to stand against the oppressive reign of Ketheric Thorm. Sadly, fear has gripped the hearts of many, turning them away from our cause. I cannot truly blame them, for trepidation fills my soul as well - but I must put aside my own fears and reunite with Morfred in the bowels of the Mason's Guild. Together, we shall preserve what we can of the Moonmaiden's light, and hope that the banners of the faithful soon rise against that treacherous dog, Thorm.
But as time goes on, Morfred grows increasingly distressed with the events happening in Reithwin and the ease with which people are eager to switch faiths.
- How quickly things change. The Thorms are Selûnite through and through - or so I believed. Perhaps Ketheric only converted for Melodia, and with her death - and then his daughter's - his faith died too. But to turn to Shar? It beggars belief.
- Ketheric's Justiciars are growing greater in number, and more determined to rout out any traces of Selûne in Reithwin. Why do they think this town was built? One cannot rip out the foundations of a building and expect it to remain standing.
- Brother and I remain the last two bastions of Our Lady of Silver in the town. A few - the trusting few - come to worship in secret by moonlit nights. Others - converts, all. Whether they truly believe, I cannot say. Impossible, isn't it?
(Don't worry, the second page is further down lol spoilers!)
Life is not going well in Reithwin, even if you're not a Selûnite. Ketheric is determined to destroy all traces of Selûne and treason of any kind. His Dark Justiciars begin tormenting citizens to reveal pockets of Selûnite resistance. He also suffers no treasonous word against him, even if the citizens in question aren't Selûnite. We see a glimpse of this and of the Justiciars' cruel influence during the questline with He Who Was and Madeline, who ratted out her friends' innocent(?) complaints about Ketheric to some Justiciars, resulting in their brutal deaths.
Eventually Morfred realizes that the Dark Justiciars are too powerful to resist and turns to Raphael, offering his soul in exchange for something to destroy the Dark Justiciar army.
- Sick of standing idle while Justiciars gain power in our humble town. What will become of us if we allow it? I met a man who was no man. Touched by a devil. Or maybe worse. But he offered me something I couldn't refuse - help.
- The time is now. Ketheric's Justiciars, their stronghold in the temple below - they will be wiped out. All of them. I didn't ask how. I just want them gone. Let the Harpers have at Ketheric now. They'll make short work of him.
You can ask Morfred about this in the House of Hope, actually, where he confirms the details. I mean, he's in Raphael's house, so it's pretty obvious the he did, in fact, make a deal with him.
Infernal Mason: When tragedy came, my master fell into darkness and despair. He marshalled a great army to ruin the world and bring all into shadow. I could not let it happen. I sought out the devil Raphael and signed an infernal pact with him. He promised to destroy my master’s army, and I promised him my soul in return. The devil was true to his word. Fiends slaughtered my master’s forces, but he endured somehow, and blighted the land.
The Fiend in question here is Yurgir, who ends up crashing through Grymforge and the Gauntlet to kill all Dark Justiciars in his path. (He misses one, because Raphael is a sneaky bastard who let one get away by turning him into a swarm of rats, but I digress.) We know Yurgir caused the destruction in Grymforge, too, because of the Merregon masks and hellbeasts we find around the area, and the fact that if you pass all the checks with the Duergar mason examining the stone, he helps you piece together this narrative:
Stonemason Kith: An ancient city, hewn from the stone by the disciples of Shar, later abandoned. Untold centuries later, a new tribe revives it. Fresh walls, fresh sculptures...until a great hellbeast charges through, toppling the walls and crushing the people! Heh - that explains the infernal plate I found. Perhaps you might have use of it.
Further proof that Grymforge and the Gauntlet were once connected...somehow.
Anyway, by the time Yurgir is called in, Morfred's already been found out. Thisobald overhears him drunkenly complaining about Ketheric in the Waning Moon and informs Ketheric of his treachery. Ketheric orders a raid on the mason's guild, leaving Halfred the lone source of Selûnite resistance. It's unknown what becomes of Halfred, but considering the fact that the inn was still taking guests (like Art Cullagh) and housing the Harpers right before the shadow curse descended (there's a shadow memory of a Harper toasting his comrades in Last Light right before the battle with Ketheric long ago), it's likely he's a victim of the curse and not Justiciar brutality.
I’m not sure which is worse, honestly.
It's unclear when Morfred dies, though he admits to witnessing the first part of the shadow curse (i.e., "...but he endured somehow, and blighted the land"). But Morfred's deal coincides in some ways with the arrival of the Harpers and druids. I think he probably makes the deal with Raphael before the Harpers officially march against Ketheric and then gets caught after he hears rumors of the Harpers.
Raphael makes good on his deal around the same the Harpers arrive, perhaps a little afterward. This means Yurgir's slaughter of Justiciars in the Underdark must happen concurrently with the battle happening topside between Ketheric's army and the Harpers/druids, meaning Ketheric is losing his army on two fronts at the same time. Victory seems assured for the Harpers and druids, but of course we know now that Ketheric had a way of cheating death already in place.
He had already imprisoned the Nightsong in a Shadowfell soul cage.
Again, we’re not sure exactly when this happens, but it’s after Isobel dies and before the shadow curse, which unleashes with Ketheric’s supposed death in the battle against the Harpers and druids. However, Aylin herself says that Ketheric and Balthazar lured her into the Shadowfell under the pretense of saving an innocent.
Dame Aylin: He and his loathsome advisor Balthazar lured me into the Shadowfell, claimed they'd found someone in need of my aid. There they trapped me in their infernal cage. I was killed, murdered, made dead, over and over and over by Justiciars of every make and kind. I was reborn, for it is my nature. And Ketheric fed upon my immortality all the while.
This makes me think that Aylin wasn’t aware of Ketheric’s conversion yet, so it must have been very soon after, because otherwise, why would she trust a known Sharran telling her to enter the Shadowfell, the realm that is entirely under Shar’s control? I also suspect Ketheric built (or renovated) the Gauntlet around Aylin after her capture, perhaps at the behest of Shar due to their collaboration in making up new Justiciar teachings, or perhaps out of a sick, vengeful desire to see Aylin tormented for daring to love his daughter.
If this is true, then there’s a very real chance that Ketheric was unkillable before he truly started to torment Reithwin town, and well before the Harpers stepped in to take him down.
Anyway we at least know that Ketheric trapped Aylin in the Shadowfell before the big battle against the Harpers because a) both Isobel and Aylin talk about her being there for a century and b) because Ketheric is already using her invulnerability to survive assassination attempts on his life prior to or during the actual battle against him and his army:
23 Elient
The Harpers came too close - they poisoned Father Ketheric himself, yet he professes no ill effects. Malus insists it a fluke. Doctor he may be, but he is no less a fool for it: Father has achieved that of which I can only dream: immortality.
I have long suspected. I can guess Father's purpose, but I cannot fathom the means.
This brings us to the eve of the battle itself. But this post is already hella long, so keep an eye out for part 2, all about the Harper and druid battle against Ketheric!
#bg3#bg3 lore#bg3 meta#bg3 discourse#halsin#halsin silverbough#ketheric thorm#jaheira#my thoughts#deep dive#baldur's gate 3#long post#super long post#bg3 critical#bg3 spoilers#bg3 screenshots#who needs sleep when i can just read 24125234 bits of lore#and red string theory my way into madness#also I haven’t mention Halsin and Jaheira much in this post#but they’re coming up soon I promise lol
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Irretrievable
Last night, I couldn't get this out of my head. So I wrote it. Thought I'd give Virgil a whirl this time and give Scooter a little break from emotional pain.
Bonus points to anyone who can guess which song inspired this one. It's not entirely subtle from the start.
Edit to add the AO3 link.
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"You're losing me, Vee."
That gut-wrenching pain that only came when hearts shattered into a million pieces tore through Virgil's entire being. This wasn't supposed to be how the night ended, it wasn't supposed to be how their story ended. He hated how he couldn't control it, how he had allowed it all to simmer under the surface and break apart this way.
"I don't understand..."
"I know you don't."
"Come on, Harper, let's just talk about this!" He would beg, he would plead, because he couldn't let it go. He couldn't let him go. The ache, the loss, the pain would tear him apart bit by bit. Virgil could already feel himself breaking.
Harper stood firm, retreating a few steps when Virgil tried to close the distance, trying to make it right. "I can't."
"Please don't just walk away. Whatever it is, I can fix it. We can fix it. You've just got to talk to me."
"Talking is all I ever try to do!" Harper snapped. The salty stream of tears continued to run but it was clear he'd turned his own heartbreak into rage. Maybe it would make it easier for him to deal with. Maybe it was truly how he felt.
Either way, Virgil felt baffled by it. Never had he seen Harper so enraged, and to think that it was his fault... if his heart hadn't already been shattered, it would have in that second.
"I always tried to talk." Harper continued, seemingly not caring for how Virgil would take his words. Apparently he was done trying to tip-toe around the subject. "You never listened. You were always busy."
That wasn't... entirely true, surely? Virgil would have defended that he was a brilliant listener. He was certainly the best out of his family, and he had worn that honour with pride. For Harper to claim he hadn't been listening to them.
"Do you know when we last had an actual proper conversation, Vee?"
The question very quickly had him stumped. Virgil attempted to answer but had to close his mouth quickly to avoid looking like a fish out of water — something he very much felt in this given situation — because the answer evaded him.
"Two weeks ago." Harper put him out of his misery with a scoff. "You don't even remember!"
"Hey, I've had a lot on my plate!" He didn't snap — Virgil never snapped — but he was beginning to get irrate. Harper accusing him of things Virgil would very much disagree with? It was ludicrous and borderline over-dramatic.
"With International Rescue? Yeah, I know."
Virgil bit back a retort as he watched Harper roll his eyes. That single action seemed hurt him more than any of his other accusations had thus far.
"When we first started seeing each other, you said you were fine with International Rescue."
"That was before I saw the truth!"
Virgil blinked. "What the hell does that mean?"
Harper, as though he was stating the obvious and Virgil was too dumb to catch onto his meaning, sighed. "You promised it wouldn't get in the eay. You promised you'd have time for me, for us. You lied."
"I didn't lie!"
"You lied, Virgil! Or, at the very least, you didn't keep those promises."
Harper was back to the heartbreaking crying now, the rage passing over like a dark storm cloud that was now content it had flooded a region.
"I didn't... It's not... International Rescue is important, you know that. It's important to my family, to the world, to me."
"You pushed me down the list." Harper accused sharply.
"There's never been any list! You're acting as though I've been cheating on you!"
"I guess it kind of feels that way."
"For fuck's sake, Harper, it's my job!"
"Well, maybe I don't think you should do that job anymore!"
The truth leaked out in Harper's yell, his arms perching on his hips. Virgil saw the pain in his partner's eyes, saw the raw, honest hurt that had clearly been pushed below the surface more than once to avoid such a confrontation.
Noticing it helped to dull the betrayal Virgil felt in his soul, but only by a fraction.
Harper didn't relent. "You'd cancel on me, go out on those ridiculous, death-defying missions and I wouldn't know if you'd ever be coming home. You'd say we'd rearrange our dinner, but I never knew if you'd ever make it back."
He took a deep breath, continuing in a whisper that was broken up by uneven sobbing. "You're killing me, Virgil. You're killing me and the worst part is you don't see that."
Harper had been wrong earlier. Virgil wasn't losing him. Harper was already lost, because Virgil didn't know how to fix it.
He wasn't going to give up International Rescue. He loved the job almost as much as he loved to paint. It was his last connection with his late-father and was a pillar of his family.
Above all else, he saved lives and gave hope to people when every other resort failed.
No, he wouldn't give any of that up.
Virgil knew that Harper already understood that. The conversation would have taken a different turn had his boyfriend thought their relationship was at all salvagable.
"I love you." Virgil said, knowing it would be for the last time. He'd spoken those three words to Harper on so many occasions over the last twenty months. Never had they stung so badly.
He hadn't expected Harper to respond in kind, but the lack of hearing the words "I love you too, Vee" had Virgil's heart disintergrating.
There was no love left.
Harper had left that night with all his items stuffed into a suitcase and a dufflebag. They hadn't exchanged anymore words. Virgil watched as Harper exited the penthouse suite for the last time, not even looking back to offer him one last glimpse of those hazel eyes that would now haunt him for the rest of his life.
Alone again.
Without love again.
Virgil didn't sleep that night, too caught up in his mind. How had he not seen the signs? How had he not caught this before it had become too late? Was he truly so absorbed in his work to have so blindly stumbled down this path instead of his happily ever after?
He had seen the same story play out time and time again with Scott. Virgil had promised himself he wouldn't end up like his older brother. Then again, according to Harper, he wasn't the best with promises so why was he surprised he wasn't able to keep this one?
Virgil eyed his communicator. He was too emotionally exhausted to work out the time zones but if he called Tracy Island, one of his brothers was sure to pick up. He allowed the call to ring for what seemed like an age, and was about to hang up when John appeared as a floating image in front of him.
"Thought you were supposed to be grabbing steak at that new restaurant?" He asked by way of greeting.
"Harper... he left."
John's face fell. "Did he have a call-out?"
Virgil shook his head, hanging it lowly to hide the new stream of tears from view.
It didn't matter. John clocked on fairly quickly. "Virgil, I'm so sorry."
Comforting words were said, reassurances and love expressed, but Virgil still felt that gaping hole inside him. Harper had gone and he had taken what felt like Virgil's very soul with him.
"Do you ever question the point of what we do?" He eventually asked John once he was tired of hearing his brother's attempts of cheering him up.
"Not really. Our work is important."
"What's the point in saving the world if we have no-one to come home to?"
John didn't have an answer to that. He could have been a wise-ass and noted how they still had each other, but he didn't. Virgil appreciated that.
The question haunted him for weeks, just as the memory of Harper failed to leave him. Over and over again, he'd ask himself what the point was. Over and over again, he'd force himself to ignore the ache in his chest when he couldn't find an answer.
He felt like he was dying. In killing Harper's love, Virgil was certain he'd killed part of himself. The days grew longer and more wearisome, but he kept pushing.
One day, the pain would heal. One day, he'd find someone who understood the workload. One day, his heart would beat again for someone new.
He just had to keep holding out until that day came, no matter how long it took.
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If you had free control of Bramblestar’s final fate how would you want it to end?
Personally for me, he realizes how he’s acted and steps down immediately finally realizing how much pain he’s caused so many cats to endure especially Squirrelflight. She lets him step down and they divorce, he tries to apologize and while she does see his change she won’t forgive him he’s done to much to just be let off bc he said sorry. She’s made Squirrelstar, Plumstone her deputy, Bramble dies soon after maybe giving up his last life willingly so she can move on. He only ever got to the point of analyzing his actions by cats like Sparkpelt, Jayfeather, Tigerheartstar, Spotfur and many more speaking up to try and stop his continued reign.
I feel like... if he just has a sudden realization that his behavior has been Bad, it wouldn't be satisfying. There's no reason that an abusive person in a position of power would just suddenly POOF! Realize that he was bad all along, you get me?
Ideally: I want him to be deposed as leader. I want ThunderClan to call out his behavior for what it is and realize that his power has been misused; so he should not have it.
and THEN I want him to have the realization that he is responsible for this.
Did you read Squirrelflight's Hope? If you did, did you catch how the narrative seemed to be set up like a journey for Squilf to realize that her actions affect others?
That was a bad super edition (in part) because that is NOT what Squilf needs to learn. She ONLY does things out of love and justice, but because the SE decides that Squilf's takeaway needs to be confronting her own actions, it ends up downplaying the fact that there is a primary abuser in their relationship.
"We were both wrong" is not an okay conclusion for a story that contains domestic abuse.
But this sort of story could work for Deposed Leader Brambleclaw. I want him to leave ThunderClan completely for a while, honestly, and go for a wander.
In the meanwhile, Squirrelflight moves on. Since, canon unfortunately is SO dedicated to Bramblesquirrel it would have to be addressed... so I'd like Bramble to leave for a while, she vows to wait for him, but then realizes that she's happier without him.
If I had FREE reign and was able to promote the Gay Agenda in the Harper-Collins office I would also impose Daisysquirrel on them like a tyrant gone mad with power, btw.
When he finally comes back, they part on sad but knowing terms; he is not good for her. They still have to share ThunderClan, it's the home of both of their families... but they never share a nest again.
#For my rewrite as you know they break up in Po3: Cruel Season and never get back together after that#This is assuming that I was like... let loose on the books from this-moment-foward like Bingbong the Pigeon#Warrior Cats Analysis#Squirrelflight#Bramblestar#domestic abuse#toxic relationship#abuse
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A Christmas Elf
Book: Open Heart (Beyond)
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Genevieve McClure), feat. Elizabeth “Lizzie” Ramsey
Word Count: 1295
Rating: G
Category: fluff, domestic bliss (family dynamics)
Trope(s): and they were in the office
Summary: Gen surprises Ethan at the hospital with lunch... and their 4 month old daughter dressed as an elf!
Warnings: none
A/N: who’s ready for some holiday fluff, baby?! Featuring everyone’s favorite tiny human, Lizzie. Hopefully this is the first of a few holiday fics but we’ll see how the inspiration goes.
Submission for @choicesficwriterscreations holiday event
She checks the diaper bag one last time, mentally cataloging every item inside. It’s the first time Genevieve has taken her and Ethan’s now four month old daughter out by herself. Which seems crazy, but with Ethan having been on paternity leave until last week, every time they took Elizabeth out it was together.
Now she herself had one month left on her maternity leave and it was time to get used to taking their sweet Lizzie out without the assistance of her husband. And since he had left them the car that morning, it seemed like the perfect opportunity.
“Okay, munchkin, you ready?” Genevieve turns to look at Lizzie, sitting happily and quietly in her car seat. “We’re gonna go surprise Daddy, because he sounded very sad on the phone.”
They say that nothing compares to watching the love of your life, your husband, become a father – that it makes you fall even more in love – and Gen has come to find that statement true. Ethan had been so scared at first, nervous that he’d screw it up, but since the moment they found out Gen was pregnant he’d been nothing but a doting father. He loved every second of this life he once believed wasn’t in the cards for him. He changed diapers, helped with the midnight feedings, laid on the floor with Lizzie during tummy time, read her books and sang her songs, all with a smile on his face.
Ethan had become a whole new person since Lizzie came into their lives and it had Gen falling more in love everyday.
Even seeing how sad he was to go back to work – the job he so adored – melted her heart. He was afraid to miss even a second of Lizzie’s life, wanted updates and photos throughout the day.
Just an hour ago he’d facetimed them between mountains of paperwork, eager to catch a glimpse at his two favorite blondes, and sounding so despondent to not be home with them. Which lead Genevieve to make the decision to take Lizzie out and see her dad.
She slings the bag over her shoulder, then picks up the car seat, smiling at how cute their daughter looks in her Christmas themed outfit.
It was a gift from Ethan’s assistant, Barbara, and the perfect thing to lift his spirits.
Along with the lunch she’d prepared for them.
“Alright, lets go see Daddy.”
In no time at all, the two blonde Ramsey’s make it to the hospital. Genevieve parks the car in Ethan’s designated Chief of Medicine spot right out front, and quickly gets herself and Lizzie into the building. They’re bombarded almost immediately by her colleagues, all eager to catch the newest edition to the Edenbrook family.
“Oh, look at her!” Harper rushes over to the stroller, titling her head to look down at the baby. “She’s gotten so big.”
“I know. It’s crazy.”
“So cute in her little Christmas outfit, all ready to see Santa.”
“More like, ready to go have lunch with Dad.”
Harper looks up at her then, a smile on her face. “Good, he’s been sulking around here all day. It’s actually quite adorable.”
“He’s afraid he’s going to miss something exciting,” Genevieve shifts her gaze down to her daughter, voice changing its tune to something overly sweet and cheerful. “But all our little lizard does is cry and sleep and eat and make mommy change her diaper a thousand times a day.”
“And smile.” Harper beams down at Lizzie, cooing at her. Her fingers tickling Lizzie’s tummy. “She’s got her mama’s smile.”
“That’s what my husband says.”
“Well, I’ll let you go. It was great to see you.”
“You, too.” Gen gives Harper a hug, then quickly makes her way to the elevator. Avoiding as many people as possible.
They get inside the lift with only one more interruption from a nurse and she presses the bottom for the top floor. A sigh of relief escaping when the elevator dings and they’ve evaded the hoard of nurses and doctors.
The only people on this floor were administration, Ethan included.
Gen and Lizzie make it down the hall, and to Chief’s office. Smiling brightly at his assistant, sitting at her own desk just outside the doors.
“Hi, Barbara.”
“Oh, hello!” The older woman rises from her chair, quickly coming round to look in the stroller. “She’s in her little elf outfit!”
“Yeah, I thought we’d cheer our Chief up with a little Christmas elf time.”
“Those bright blue eyes and round cheeks would cheer anyone up.”
“Is he in?”
“Yes. Just came back from speaking with Mr. Bloom.”
“Oh, no.” Gen laughs, knowing just how grumpy Ethan gets after speaking with Leland. “Well, here’s hoping we put him in a better mood.”
“I’ll hold all his calls until you two leave.”
“Thank you.” With that, Gen pushes the stroller to the door to Ethan’s office, opening it without bothering to knock.
She’s always had an open invitation, anyway.
“Not now. I don’t have time.” Ethan barks, glasses perched low on nose and his eyes focused on the files scattered around the mahogany desk.
“Not even for us?” Gen closes the door, smiling at how fast his head whips up. Eyes wide in shock. Though he smiles, happy to see his wife and child.
“What are you doing here?”
“We came to surprise you with lunch.” She drops the diaper bag onto the coffee table in his office, “I made sandwiches for us and a bottle for Lizzie. You sounded sad on the phone, and I thought we could cheer you up a bit.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” Ethan rises from his desk, tossing his glasses down and walking to the stroller.
Without hesitation, he takes their daughter out, his smile growing as he settles her in his arms.
Nothing will ever beat the sight of seeing Ethan holding their daughter. They way he instantly relaxes and his hard exterior softens.
“Hi, sweetpea.” He utters softly, rocking their daughter slightly.
The rest of the world always seems to fall away for him when Lizzie is in his arms. The stress and anxiety of being Chief of Medicine, the everyday pressures of adult life – none of it fazes him when he’s holding their little girl.
Just like when it was just the two of them, and they’d hide away from the world in their apartment, snuggled together under mountains of blankets.
The family they created together was his sanctuary.
Hers, too.
“Does your wife get a hello, too.” Gen giggles, stepping closer to her husband. One hand resting on Lizzie’s head and one on Ethan’s bicep.
“Always.” Ethan leans down, kissing Genevieve sweetly. “Hi, sweetheart.”
“Hi.” Unable to resist, she kisses him one more time, lingering for just a moment. “Did you see her outfit?”
“She’s a Christmas elf?” He takes in Lizzie’s aforementioned outfit. The little stripped onesie and tulle skirt, with a matching stripped hat with elf ears and a pompom on top.
“Yes. Come to give her daddy some holiday joy.”
“Hm,” He looks at Gen then back down at Lizzie, soft smile still on his face. “I don’t know about holiday joy, but this little surprise lunch definitely raised my spirits, Rookie.”
“Good. God, she’s so cute, it’s ridiculous.”
“Like her mom.”
“Smooth, Ramsey.” She kisses his cheek, then guides them to the sofa.
They sit beside each other, all eyes focused on the little bundle of green and red still nestled happily in her dad’s arms.
After the months of trying and feeling discouraged, to the months of waiting for their little girl to arrive, it was moments like this that Genevieve wanted to remember most. The picture perfect instances of them as the family she had always envisioned.
A/N: Happy Holidays, fam jam.
Hopefully we can write some more things. Like the mini series and maybe other holiday fics. I’ve just been having major writers block. Like I don’t even really love this what it is what it is. I mean I like it but I feel like it’s not my best.
Whatevs. We gonna keep going, write the things
@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics
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So, I finished reading To Kill a Mockingbird today. I'm Canadian and it wasn't part of my curriculum in school, but I picked up the movie a long time ago and decided to read the book first before watching it. You know, because the book is better nine times outta ten. But, in the back of my mind, the question of whether Atticus was actually a racist was on my mind.
People accusing Atticus Finch of secretly being a racist didn't just pop up with Go Set A Watchman, the rejected first draft that was reworked into Mockingbird. It's been around for a bit despite the book talking out against racism and instead wants everyone to get along. So, what was my final conclusion on this matter?
I do believe there is reason to believe Atticus is racist, but it might have been by accident. Part of the thrust of GSAW is an adult Scout returning home to discover this fact and having to reconcile that Atticus isn't the paragon of righteousness she thought he was. It would make sense for there to be little clues in the flashbacks to illustrate that Atticus was always like this and Scout was just seeing him through a child's eyes.
But at the same time, TKAM wants to make it very clear that Atticus isn't like most of the adults in Maycomb and he's more of an egalitarian. He even has his kids call him by his first name like he does to them, or why he doesn't like to use his natural talents in shooting because it makes him better than others. You could even argue it's why he's in the legal profession as he argues that the world outside isn't equal. Someone's always going to be more talented, or have an advantage, but in the courts everyone is supposed to be treated the same. So I think that's the intent of the reworked story, while stuff like him saying he's as radical as a major proponent of white supremacy at the time are details Harper Lee may have failed to edit out (and I don't take that as Atticus joking, as the man is against lying. He's willing to let it be known Jem killed Ewell so that people won't talk about it behind his back, And this would also put him in direct contrast to Ewell, who lied about his daughter's actions resulting in Tom Robinson's death).
My problem though is his attitude towards society. A white man who takes advantage of a black man is trash, says Atticus, but he never extends this to society. He knows there's injustice, but his reaction is basically don't shit where you eat. Don't confront others on their racism, instead try to be an example especially towards your children in order to incite change. This is contradicted, however, because of how he allows Aunt Alexandria to try and instill her beliefs into Scout. Beliefs that are racist and classist, about how she's better because of her breeding despite how the family's money has dried up. The hypocrisy of the ladies meeting where one woman sings the praises of a preacher looking out for people in Africa while treating black people in her vicinity with scorn. And then there's the fact he tells Scout he knows there will be a reckoning due to how African-Americans are treated, just he hopes it doesn't happen in her lifetime. That black people will still be mistreated until after his kids are dead. To see this attitude being championed, it did not sit well with me.
Maybe the movie will be easier to digest. At least it has Gregory Peck.
I keep thinking about how TKAM is supposed to be Superman's favorite book and movie, and I can see him aligning with the inspiration bit because that's kinda Supes' deal, but Superman also isn't afraid to confront injustice. He was introduced as a champion of the little guy, doing things like beating wife-beaters or forcing war profiteers to fight in the wars they start. Mild-mannered Clark Kent was writing fiery editorials to try and urge Americans to join the war against Hitler and was kicking Klan ass back in 1946 on the radio. I get using TKAM would be a standard answer for Superman considering it was revealed before this discussion became more common, but it's an aspect to his character I feel would warrant an update.
Not him being a massive Metallica fan though, that needs to stay until the end of time.
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POSITIVITY DUMP
@longerhuman I’m going to be totally honest, Nine, you’re one of the reasons I decided to reboot my Chuuya blog to begin with. I stumbled on you completely by accident in the recommended tag while in another fandom and as soon as I read your writing I was like ‘holy shit this is so good’ and ‘fuck I miss BSD so god damn much right now’. You’re insanely talented, I love paragraph dumping my thoughts about our boys on you at all hours, and we have more in common than I expected. Shout out to your incredible, well thought out portrayal of Dazai ( and Verlaine! ) and don’t ever let anyone make you feel bad for being a ‘slow’ writer okay? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, your replies are worth waiting for! Together we’ll properly spread the big brother Oda / little brother Dazai truther propaganda! Reading replies from your Dazai is always a treat because it feels like reading bonus chapters about his thoughts and feelings Asagiri won’t explicitly give us lol. The way you read and understand his character blows me away constantly and I’m always excited to see you on the dash even when it’s with someone else because I adore your portrayal! I also admire the way you handle your blog and how you know what you are and aren’t okay with. You’ve really helped me in terms of setting boundaries and feeling more confident in enforcing my blog rules for my own mental wellness so thank you for that too. Plus. Relatable ND memes, I love sharing those with you lol.
@mckiingbiird ASPIE! What can I say about you? I’ve probably known you the longest out of anyone on here! Has it really been over 2 years since we first started talking? Time sure does fly. I could rave about you for ages. For starters, you’re one of the first people I’ve met to put as much if not even MORE love into their OCs than they do into their canon muses. You have so much love for your characters and it really shows, they’re so interesting and well rounded, it feels like if you just changed their names and took out the BSD stuff you could write your own novels just about them and their journeys, that’s how good they are. I love them immensely - Lemony and the kids, Harper, Murasaki, Maurice, and now James too. I always have a great time no matter who I’m writing with, and you’ve always been sweet, friendly and caring in all the time I’ve known you, to the point where I easily consider you one of my best friends in the writing community, even if most of our writing and development has occurred on Discord lol. Now with us bringing the Flags into it, I feel like there’s even more adventure to be had with them all. I want to give a special shout-out to you for a fantastic portrayal of a trans ftm character living his best life because we really don’t see enough of them and it’s obvious how much thought, love and research went into him when you first created him.
@nonhumen Oriiiiii! I know we only just met near the beginning of this year but it honestly feels like I’ve known you way longer than that. You’re such a phenomenal writer and I can’t recommend enough that people follow you for a well rounded, amazingly developed portrayal of Dazai and all of his virtues and flaws. For someone relatively new to the franchise you’ve done an incredible job at understanding the nuances of his character. I’ve really enjoyed deep diving into his and Chuuya’s mental health from childhood all the way to adulthood with you and why they are the way they are. Their relationship is SO important to me, and the way we’ve developed them together in our jokingly titled cinematic universe, SKK edition, is an endless source of entertainment and inspiration for me. I love their Kintsugi verse and the handful of spin-off verses we’ve created from them. I have to constantly update their verse info page and even then I feel like I can’t accurate describe all the trials and tribulations they’ve gone through. Maybe one day we can collaborate on an epic fanfic saga about their adventures together LOL.
Honourable mentions are a huge must for a few other people who while I don’t talk to them as much OOC, their portrayals continue to provide me constant joy and entertainment! Chuuya has grown SO much from his interactions with your Dazai and even Verlaine and it means so much to me that he gets his happy ending finally in their AU.
@theircurse Stellaaaa! You and I both know Yumeno doesn’t get nearly as much love and attention as they deserve. If it wasn’t for Mayoi I would feel like the franchise forgot they existed, but YOU HAVEN’T. You’re one of the fandom OGs and while we don’t talk a lot, I have to mention your portrayal of Yumeno and how heartwrenchingly good it is. Some of my characters aren’t even a fan of children but even they feel the urge to wrap little Yumeno up in a very soft blanket and protect them from the world. Perhaps most surprisingly is Ara. Maybe it’s because he high key relates to being mistreated by family or because he thinks their doll and their macabre behaviour is so interesting and similar to his own weirdness, but he kinda wants to pick them up and just carry them around in his pocket. In a good way! He’s still coming to terms with the fact humans aren’t just animals or like… Tamagotchis but larger with more needs, but he’s getting there! Chuuya just straight up wants to adopt them. Please continue giving Yumeno the attention they deserve while we hold out hope Asagiri will one day dust them off again!
@giftandguile Lua! My first impression of you was adoring your portrayal of Chuuya because you have his sassy attitude and whiplash temper down to a T and that’s not easy, I know I struggle with it! I also love seeing how you write Tetcho because it’s always so very entertaining. BUT, most of all I want to mention your Fyodor. I have always had very mixed feelings about Fyodor! I’m still making my way through the manga again and I haven’t had much time to dig into his IRL self’s books, but your writing certainly has made me want to. Where the anime failed to get me interested in his character at all, you succeeded. He’s so interesting! I always get excited seeing your meta posts on Fyo because I end up either shocked by how brilliant it is or agreeing wholeheartedly. You got me so invested in a character I was initially indifferent to and that’s not easy for me, my ADHD brain is big on first impressions. I’m SO excited to see where things go between her and Ara and the chaos they’re going to cause in Japan post resurrection. I think Ara sees something of a kindred spirit in her, that they were both ‘born cursed’ and wound up exiled in a sense for things that weren’t even their fault, and as a result developed a negative view of others of their kind. I’m super pumped to see where that ends up going!
@moonhund AEVIS. This post wouldn’t be complete without a shoutout to Ara’s brawling, drinking, temperamental shapeshifting new bestie Jono, or honorary dad-mentor Fukuzawa. There’s honestly so much to say but! I love the fact that an internationally wanted assassin was able to just show up on Fukuzawa’s doorstep one day with baby teen Chuuya like ‘look I don’t trust you but I need somewhere to leave this kid for a while and I don’t fucking trust Mori, can you give him a home for a while?’ And Fuku just looked at this scared and angry lil ginger and was like ayo kids, you got a baby brother now, no questions asked. He’s such a good dude. Sometimes family is one ex swordsman and his adopted wayward detectives / experiments / former war weapons. Absolute icon. But ALSO! The shenanigans between Jono and Ara are basically the definition of serotonin at this point for me. Half their interactions feel like crack threads but it’s just How They Are. I love the depth you’ve added to Jono’s character and how you can write him as both an asshole but sympathetic in a way that feels genuine, not forced. Highly recommend anybody who needs good HD muse interactions follow you because your writing for him is S tier.
I know I’ve gotten to be a somewhat slow writer these days, at least on Tumblr because formatting can be kind of a bitch on here, but I hope everybody knows I’m thinking of you and I adore my interactions with each and every one of you. Please take care of yourselves and know you’re loved and appreciated and SO TALENTED, because this RPC would be a worse off place if any of you were no longer in it.
Love always, Luna <3
#positivity#{ ooc }#just felt like with winter on the horizon and how common it is to get the blues in colder months this was something I wanted to do#to remind myself I have people on here I adore and that there are reasons to keep writing and smiling even when I get down
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old harper moment on dms
I think harper admires how the other agents are motivated by... people...? They all do so many things for eachother, even agent work is part of that
Harper only thought about themselves... in a way.
When they were a child, they would have to learn how to navigate their chaotic family, to calm themselves down, to listen and see both the daily screaming, the glasses and plates flying in the air, and the sad, sad and quiet moments where someone would just sigh with disappointment, repeating the same words as usual with disgusting anger, venom pouring out.
Arguments, the way they started, there was always something. It would start to be noisier the more words were spoken. Unreal behavior, mocking screeches.
Explosive anger How to fend for themselves, how to avoid the shame. How to look... cool, despite it all.
Childish need....
When they started being a model, the money would go straight to the household. But they didnt care much, they didnt have to talk to them, they would just have to send the money. It was good like that.
They were far away but nothing bad would happen because they were still helping as promised
They could not handle it. They lost self awareness in a way. They didnt feel like they lived in a body, let alone their OWN body.
They did not feel real, they werent. Pictures of them edited so much they would be a different person
But it was still them. How they should look
They could not handle creepy whispers, off hand comments, the stress of being a doll for people to play with So they stopped.
And their family too, stopped. Being their family, that is, their name crossed out; they were officially disowned... as easy as that
Living in the desert, trading scraps, is no fun, though. They felt curious about splatsville... they couldnt resist.
After a year of loneliness, they went to the city of chaos
Job as a delivery person. Shared apartment with a roommate.
But it started hurting again, the girl they lived with was cruel and creepy.
After a bad argument, she took her fork and... thats how harper got those scars on their cheek
Started working for grizzco, met lil buddy
More screaming, more plates thrown, home will follow them wherever they go.
Theyll always be weak to life. they cant run away this time, luck isnt on their side. Oh?
This old man is offering me some kind of "agent" job? Ill be paid, surely, the pay is... well, didnt quite hear that last part. But hey thats ok. Money is money. And maybe with that ill be able to run away again, from pain
Its always been about protecting their own self
Its always been about failure
Self preservation skills, so desperate for them, scared with hands shaking
They will go from one hell to another, whatever
But its not true, in a way. When it was time to fight the big bear, they turned around and saw planet earth
And it seemed so small, so fragile
So important, and they felt like they needed to hold it in their arms
And they didnt want lil buddy to stay in space all alone, if they died, it would be the end
They have no real need to even be alive, they live a life that does not interact with anyone else's . They do not exist much. It feels good in a way, to not be the reason of this and that bad thing... but well.
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Power to Overcome
Book: Open Heart (post series)
Pairing: Casey Ramsey, Aurora Emery
Word count: 835
Category: fluff
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: Aurora and Casey receive news that the book they want to write together has been approved for publishing.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Pixelberry
Authors note: Submission for @choicesmonthlychallenge Prompt will appear in bold. Prompt used is Good news.
📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖
March 2039.
Since their residency ended in 2021 Dr Casey Ramsey and Dr Aurora Emery had being kicking all sorts of career goals. Casey was still the head of Diagnostics and the Naveen Banerji clinic and Aurora was the head of the Delores Hudson family and sexual health clinic that was located in one of the more disadvantaged areas of Boston. There were many times where both clinics joined forces with various health initiatives to get better health outcomes, not only for those who were disadvantaged economically but for those who were people of colour, those who identified as lgbtqi and other minorities who were misrepresented in low health outcomes.
By now Ethan had stood down as Chief,citing family reasons and was more than happy to work as an attending on Casey’s team. Ethan could not be any more proud of how Casey has gone in her career if he tried. He knew she had reservations early on in her career, being his Mentee did cast a shadow but she shone bright from the outset. Herself and Tobias worked well early on to maintain the team’s reputation and recruited well, they expanded into research and Casey was leading the team medically full time and this is when she fully shone. Sure there were naysayers, there always had been, especially after the attack when word of their relationship got out but many changed their tune after working with the team for which all were relieved.
Aurora had her own career shadow to deal with too, being the niece of Harper Emery, but she too worked hard not only to prove the naysayers wrong but to show she was a force in her own right.
Casey and Aurora worked well individually and together as a team, they were often invited to schools for Career day talks and to encourage more females and persons of colour into not only medicine but Sciences in general.
One day however, Casey had a thought. A thought to write another book. She had already co-authored a book with Ethan about the advocacy work she had done with women’s health. That book was a success. She met with Aurora to float her idea.
“All the talks we do to high school students are well and good but I think we can do better and write a book. Both of us have had to deal with the misogyny in the medical field, both overt and subtle. We have both had accusations of being favoured by Nepotism. I was thinking of writing a book of how we both overcame such obstacles and hope that it will encourage not only medical students to continue their studies but interns and residents to continue.”
“That does sound good, I would like to add a chapter about racism also.”
“Agreed,” said Casey, “I will let you write that the outcomes at the Delores Hudson clinic speak volumes to people who see people like themselves professionally.”
“Indeed, when you recommended me I was apprehensive but I did understand your reasoning and you are right, we have a diverse staff that reflects that area of Boston and I think it is why we have had the great results we have had.
Over the coming weeks Casey and Aurora met to plan their pitch to the publisher. Both felt it was a solid pitch but they are nervous. They have a meeting with the publisher and it is good news.
The publisher agreed to publish the book.
The next six months is a blur of research, writing, not to mention the demands of work and family but by the end there was a draft ready for editing. Over the next month it was edited and slight alterations made. Casey and Aurora decided to call the book Power to Overcome.
It is finally published and in December 2039, Power to Overcome was launched at Edenbrook Hospital. There was plenty of excitement, Professors from Harvard, Grossman, John Hopkins and Yale were all in attendance. Caroline Bloom and Naveen also came along for the launch also. Harper was very proud of both Casey and Aurora for not only what they had achieved but for writing about it. Both Ethan and Tobias were very proud of their colleagues also. The launch was a success and the new year brought about the publicity circuit for the book.
Both Aurora and Casey during the tour could not believe how well their book was received. On tour they had heard stories from many medical students and former residents who had dropped out or were thinking of dropping out because of the misogyny and racism but their book had inspired them to keep on going.
Power to Overcome became a best seller, this shocked but also pleased Casey and Aurora and not only did it have the desired effect of inspiring those in the medical and scientific fields but also those in other male dominated professions also and that was one outcome that Casey and Aurora did not expect and for that they were pleased.
Tagging: @jerzwriter @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @liaromancewriter @cariantha @tessa-liam @bex-la-get @a-crepusculo @crazy-loca-blog @lucy-268 @schnitzelbutterfingers @binny1985
@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesmonthlychallenge @openheartfanfics
#open heart#choices fanfic writers creations#fotw#choices monthly challenge#casey ramsey#aurora emery#look at the girls go#choices fanfic#choices
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New Horizons
Title: New Horizons
Book: Open Heart (Post Series)
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Kaycee MacClennan-Ramsey)
Rating: General
Category: Fluff
Warnings: None
Summary: It’s Kaycee’s last day at Edenbrook. While a friend is there to support her, Ethan and Emma are there to take her home.
Words: 1273
A/N: I dedicate this fic to @dorisz , who made this absolutely precious edit of Ethan, Kaycee, and little Emma for me. I think she heard me squeal halfway around the globe! Dori, you are a treasure, my friend!
A/N 2: This is a HC about Kaycee's future career plans. This may be of interest to some who read the story. (Please note, I have not had a chance to update the name yet, so if you see "Casey" it's the same character.)
Participating in @choicesjuly2022challenge Day 30 Domesticity
CHARACTERS BELONG TO PIXELBERRY STUDIOS
The sun was streaming through Kaycee's office window, the patterns of light forming on her desk so familiar they felt like a visitor from an old friend. Closing her eyes, she took a moment to bask in its warmth, relishing the comfort of the familiar while surrounded by so much change.
A knock on the door broke her from her reverie.
"Harper," Kaycee smiled, "come on it."
"I’m glad I caught you. This place looks so….”
“Empty,” Kaycee sighed. “It’s so hard to believe.”
“Yes. It truly is. Any second thoughts? Maybe you can stay. I do have an in with the Chief,” Harper smiled.
“Really, Chief Emery. Now, I think you know my decision is final.”
The two women laughed cordially, but a feeling of poignancy filled the air as Harper took a seat across from Kaycee for the last of their late afternoon chats in Edenbrook.
“And, as much as I hate losing you, I couldn’t be happier that it is. Kaycee, you have created something bigger than yourself! The clinic will be a blessing for the underserved in our community. You should be extremely proud of yourself, and heaven knows we all are.”
“I know, and I am proud and so excited about the things we will be able to accomplish. It’s just,” she let out a deep sigh and swiveled in her chair. “I never realized just how much I would miss this place. In recent days, I feel like my time here has passed before my eyes, and it’s just so hard to believe. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was practically a baby when I first walked through these doors, and now….”
Harper nodded toward a picture frame, the last unpacked item on Kaycee’s desk. “And now, you have a baby of your own.”
“Yes,” Kaycee’s face warmed with pride as she clutched the frame against her chest. “I do… but enough about Ethan.”
Harper broke into a fit of laughter as the man himself entered through the door; a sweet little cherub held his hand and wobbled in at his side.
“When I hear my name followed by Harper cackling, I know no good can be taking place.”
“Oh, it’s all good, Ethan,” Harper assured, readily ignoring him to focus on the little beauty at his side. “Hello, Emma! Come here, give your Aunt Harper a hug.”
“Da-ta-da-ah-da-ta-dah!” Emma sang as she waddled into Harper's waiting arms.
“How does she get more beautiful every time I see her?”
Ethan shot an adoring gaze at his wife, “You’ll have to ask her, Mom. Clearly, it’s her genes and not mine.”
“Of course! No one suggested otherwise, Ethan,” Harper grinned.
“Wow! Suddenly I’m not so sad about Kaycee leaving. At least I’ll just have one of you ribbing me now!”
“Oh, don’t worry!” Harper assured, “Tobias will be more than happy to pick up any slack left behind. Don’t you agree, Kaycee?”
But when Harper swung around, she found her friend and colleague clutching a tissue and peering out the window on the verge of tears. Ethan nodded after he and Harper exchanged a knowing look.
“You know, if it’s OK with the two of you, I’m going to show this little angel off to the nurses. They always love seeing her! Would that be all right?”
“Oh,” Kaycee startled, “yes, of course. Just let me give Emma a little kiss first.”
Kaycee leaned over her desk, and Emma’s chubby little hands tangled in her Mommy’s hair as she lavished her with kisses.
“OK, little miss, let’s go show you off! We’ll be back very soon, Mommy!”
Ethan was already standing behind his wife, his arms lovingly encircling her waist, when Harper closed the door. Kaycee took a deep breath as she leaned back into his embrace, cherishing the reassuring kisses he placed on the top of her head.
“How are you doing, dear,” he whispered.
“It’s really my last day here,” she cried. “I’m leaving.”
“Yes, you are. To do amazing things!”
“I know,” she turned around into his arms to face him, mindlessly toying with his lapel as memories flooded her thoughts. “It’s just, this has been my home.”
“And it always will be. But you’ve done all you can here. The youngest person to ever become a fellow and then a member of the diagnostic team. Creating a specialty diagnostic unit for women and children. Implementing vast improvements to our community clinic until you realized you could do better striking out with that on your own.”
Kaycee smiled when she felt her husband's chest rise, his eyes aglow with utter pride.
“I always knew you were something special, Rookie, but look at you now. It is such an honor to be your husband.”
“Hmm,” Kaycee grinned. “I bet that’s one thing you didn’t expect me to accomplish when we met in that lobby all those years ago.”
“No,” he chuckled, “I most certainly didn’t. But having you as my wife and that beautiful little girl as our daughter, they’re my greatest accomplishments, bar none.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” Kaycee teased.
“Yes,” he guffawed. “I tell all my wives and mothers of my children the same thing.”
Ethan sat on the desk and held Kaycee close, sharing one last lingering embrace that neither wished to break.
“Come on,” he finally spoke, “we should go. Have you packed everything?”
“Yes,” she replied. “Everything but that.”
A warm smile spread on Ethan’s face as he lifted the frame from her desk, lovingly staring at the image of their little family. Wrapping it carefully in packing paper, he placed it on top of the small cardboard box on her desk.
“That will always be one of my favorite pictures,” he stated.
“Mine too, and I already have a place set for it in my new office.”
“I knew you would. Think of it, I’ll be staring at my copy, and you’ll be staring at the same picture across town.”
“And Emma has the same picture in her cubby at daycare,” Kaycee reminded him.
“That’s right, just one more thing that unites us until we’re all back home where we belong.”
Kaycee exhaled a cleansing breath. Change was frightening, but she was confident, there was nothing they couldn’t accomplish as long as they had each other. The silence was broken by the soft mewls coming through the door.
“Emma!” Kaycee consoled as her arms reached for her little girl. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“She’s had enough of this place,” Harper insisted. “She’s ready to go see her Mommy’s new office.”
“Is that what it is,” Kaycee smiled. Emma’s tears stopped flowing the moment she was back in her mother’s arms.
“Of course,” Ethan beamed, “That’s where she’s going to spend time, watching her mother accomplish the most incredible things.”
“He’s not wrong,” Harper agreed. “Now, I know you two, and you’ll drag this out needlessly. I’m still your boss for another twenty minutes, so I’m exercising my authority and ordering you out! Ethan – pick up that box and take your family home.”
Harper clutched Kaycee’s arm with a broad smile.
“Your work here is done. You did good! I’ll give you three a few moments alone.”
Bouncing Emma on her hip, Kaycee slowly turned around, taking in her office one last time.
“Well, I guess that’s it. Ready to go home, Ethan?”
Ethan lifted the box and met his wife by the door, placing a soft kiss on her lips, then another on Emma’s forehead.
“I’m ready to leave,” he smiled tenderly, “But I’m already home, Kaycee. I’m with the two of you.”
Permatags: @a-crepusculo @animesuck3r @annoyingmillenialnewbie @bex-la-get @binny1985 @bluebelle08 @bluerosesbloom @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @danijimenezv @differenttyphoonwerewolff @dorisz @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @kingliam2019 @lady-calypso @liaromancewriter @lucy-268 @mainstreetreader @parisa-kh @peonierose @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @rosebuddee @schnitzelbutterfingers @secretaryunpaid @sillydg @spookycolorpeanut @socalwriterbee @thegreentwin @trappedinfanfiction @writer-ish @youlookappropriate @zahrachoices @kachrisberry @fayeswiftie @choiceskatie @ofmischiefandmedicine @tessa-liam
OH Tags: @aishwarya26 @onikaloverr @peonyblossom @toadfrog26 @jerzwriter2
#open heart#ethan ramsey#ethan ramsey x mc#choices fanfic#ethan x casey#choices fic writers creations#open heart fanfics#choices monthly challenge#baby emma
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Alt John/Mary and a The Very Real, Very Good conversation in 1x12
John & Mary have a wonderful fight in SPNwin 1x12 Tears of a Clown. It was my favorite one. I'm not even being facetious.
I know there is a crowd lying in wait, like Fate, rooting actively again alt!Mary/John, because we *think* we know who they are. See this post for more of my thoughts on that. But basically, with The Winchesters, the audience divides itself thus:
Team free will - Hope is the whole point. Go, Monster Club!
Team who cares - There's no point. (Nihilism)
Team fun and games - They can enjoy themselves so long as the future stays.
Team Fate - I've decided who John and Mary are; they cannot change or triumph.
However... Regardless of the challenges they face, this fight in Tears of a Clown is an incredibly, incredibly honest one.
Because this is the tough stuff. Because it's not the FATE part of coming together and falling in love that's the interesting part. It's the staying together part, the growing together (or apart) part. The struggling together and choosing part.
////
So, anyway, the episode opens with a literal rearview mirror:
JOHN: All right? Once my mom and Betty find evidence to clear my name, uh... be able to put all this in the rearview.
MARY: Rearview? It's like you're pretending nothing ever happened.
That sets up John's struggle, as well as the bones of the fight. I think the coolest part about their fight is that they're both right. It's like an issue of Cosmopolitan. This is not a sign of weakness in a relationship. It's a sign of deepening strength.
These are the fights family is made of. Tell them what you’re expecting and where your needs aren't being met; then, negotiate if they can healthily be met. Talk about the problems that you both are facing and how you can solve them. Constructive criticism once in a while is healthy.
/////
Furthermore, Mary does a huge, incredibly vulnerable thing here. She reveals her doubts.
To reveal your own anxieties is Really Something. To reveal your anxieties about a relationships is The Crucial Step beyond the you-can-never-hurt-me, you-would-never-let-me-down phase of the relationship.
"One of the most marvelous aspects of (the early) stage is not only the idealized way we see our partner but the new, more laudable way we see ourselves. Listening closely comes easily to us, as does giving the ideal response. Our patience seems eternal, our interest in the other boundless. Who knew that we possessed such generosity, such largeness of spirit? How delightful it feels to live with an open heart, bountiful compassion, and unconditional care. In the shelter of our love bubble, it’s easy to think we can float in such pure happiness forever." - Carroll, Linda. Love Cycles (p. 8). New World Library. Kindle Edition.
Mary and John, at this snapshot in time, are moving beyond the specter of the frozen-in-time-idealized-love. This is perfectly illustrated by Harper Sayles in SPN Prime 14x08's Optimism.
SPN Prime 14x08 (Optimism):
HARPER SAYLES: Jack, it's the best kind of love. Without baggage or compromise. And all the other guys, none of them are like Vance. Strong and courageous and..
He never let me down. So what if I had to kill him in the end? Every relationship has its stuff, right? (Oh, Harper...)
SPNwin 1x12 (Tears of a Clown) + alt Mary/John + a relationship moving beyond limerence?
MARY: What if our relationship is the problem?
JOHN: Wanna tell me how hunting an evil clown suddenly makes you think we have issues?
MARY: Not hunting Limbo. Talking to Clarence about what happened to his brother.
JOHN: Mary, that doesn't make any sense. Clarence used the carnival as an escape so his brother wouldn't have to face his problems.
And here it is. The mirror is making Mary think, making her worry, making her see things in a new light. This conflict is the actual stuff souls are made of. ("Souls are messy, all confusion. Conflict." -Asmodeus, SPN Prime 13x07)
Notably, Mary is not doing a one-to-one comparison theorem here: To suggest that these two brothers, Roger and Clarence, "have similar problems to us, ergo they must be romantically entangled," would be a strange conclusion indeed.
She is simply witnessing this incredible challenge to a loving relationship, and it's making her think. Making her examine herself. (I'm generally in agreement that all family and relationship stories are love stories. Yes, I think Save the Cat even gets that right about buddy comedies.)
MARY: Don't you think it's possible that you've been using our relationship in the same way?
JOHN: Okay, so our relationship is a circus carnival in this metaphor.
MARY: No. It's something happy to distract you from your issues. And it's been working, because ever since we left Lawrence, you've been pretending that we've been on vacation together instead of on the run for Kyle's murder. Either that, or you're flying off the handle because it's like you're totally ignoring reality.
JOHN: I'm ignoring reality? You're honestly gonna stand here and act like you're not avoiding your issues, too? OK, what about life after Hunting or us?
MARY: Well, I applied to college, and I got in.
JOHN: Great. And then what have you done since? Have you accepted the offer? Have you enrolled for any classes? Have you taken a second to think about how any of this works if I'm still Hunting?
MARY: Sorry I'm too busy trying to save the world.
JOHN: There it is, Mary, the eternal excuse. I mean, admit it... the second your future got real, you did what you always do. You buried your head in the Hunting sand so you wouldn't have to think about college or our relationship.
MARY: You know what? Think what you want. I don't have time for this.
JOHN: And there you go, proving my point.
Right after this, Mary stumbles onto a clue to Limbo, because Mary is quite literally running from making difficult decisions. (BUT she's voicing her grievances, which is a great first step.)
They fact that they vent their frustrations to each other shows vulnerability, trust, and growing strength.
The disillusionment stage can be completely healthy and a necessary component of an evolving partnership:
"It takes most of us a long time to look candidly at ourselves, partly because we become so obsessed with the faults of our partner and the generally distressed state of our relationship. Back in the first stage (how long ago that now seems!) we exaggerated the depth and breadth of the best qualities of our partner.
Now, in the third stage, we flip-flop between attachment and disillusionment. How unremittingly annoying he is! How outrageously self-centered she is! Both extremes of viewpoint — my partner is fabulous in all ways and my partner is worthless — are gross distortions. Our challenge is to understand our seesawing hearts, and then to act from a more balanced place. That’s the goal. Until we reach it, though, we may endure some trying times. - Carroll, Linda. Love Cycles (p. 59). New World Library. Kindle Edition.
So, in her vulnerable state, Mary gets trapped. SPNwin 1x12:
MARY: We can be together where there aren't any problems. And we never have to fight again, about my future or your anger. We can be happy in Limbo's tent forever.
JOHN: But none of it would be real...Mary. There's a world out there we have to save.
MARY: Limbo can protect us from all of that here. All you have to do is look in the mirror behind me.
JOHN: No. We're leaving. Come on.
(Because it's not The Dream. It's A Dream.)
Interestingly, John makes the right choice here. He resolves not to look in the rearview mirror. He makes the choice to leave...and the villain intervenes, like it's chiding, "You're not allowed to heal, John. I won't allow you to heal."
And because Mary refuses to leave stasis, she's invertedly dragged John into stasis with her. Because although she is not responsible for John's happiness, they affect each other's happiness. John is waiting for her.
CLOWN: A bit of misdirection. I'm sorry to have to trick you, John. Now, put a smile on that face.
///
And so, they emerge, with new perspectives, but it's not a magic fix:
LATA: Do the two of you remember it, when you were clowns?
MARY: Yeah, all of it.
LATA: How terrifying.
MARY: Actually, it was kind of nice.
///
JOHN: So, do you really mean that?
MARY: Didn't it feel good to you, not having to worry about our problems for a second, not to have to worry about us?
JOHN: Maybe. But it also made me realize that you were right. I have been ignoring things because it's easier than facing the truth. I'm sorry for that. I am also sorry for being so angry with you.
MARY: I guess I got kind of angry myself, you calling me a hypocrite and all. But you were right too. Thinking about the future is scary.
JOHN: So, we good?
Maybe they're not "good," but they're trying to be. And that's the part that's real.
So, there we have it. Mirrors are ruminations, meditations, wishes, reflections. They are not Truth with a capital T, so much as they are questions. You can get trapped in them if you're not careful.
SPN Prime 1x05:
Sam: Right. I mean there’s a lot of folklore about mirrors-that they reveal all your lies, all your secrets, that they’re a true reflection of your soul, which is why it’s bad luck to break them.
Dean: Right, right. So maybe if you’ve got a secret, I mean like a really nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it, and punishes you for it.
But Sam is WRONG. Mirrors are NOT necessarily true. They can be misdirection. They can even trick you into seeing the worst outcome, the worst self.
But ultimately, you make your own Fate. You can reject the falsity you see and break that fucking mirror to smithereens. (You see, you gotta know yourself pretty deeply and courageously in order to determine if the mirror's got any truth to it.)
#spn 1x12#alt mary/john#spnwin#mary/john + dream worlds#mary/john + mirrors#harper sayles#spn + no baggage no compromise#spnwin +#core4 + key traits
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Tutorial: Make Your Sims Book Buyable
Before we start, I would like you to know it's a way you will have to do manually with sims 4 studio. I didn't find a mod that does it and I don't know how to mod so that's how I do it.
Anyway, I am currently playing with a writer sim and I wanted to be able to buy her books from other household. I searched for a mod that does that but could not find one so I decided to just add her books as custom one. I did that before a few times so I thought this time I would share if anyone else wants to learn how to do it as well <3
Programs you'll need:
Sims 4 studio
Step 1:
Open sims 4 studio and choose Object. Make sure you have "Standalone Recolor" Selected.
Step 2:
Next, you'll see the program loading a bunch of items from the game. Click on "Show Debug Items" on the top bar, and on the search bar type "book".
Step 3:
Choose the book that fits your sim's book the best. I usually choose the same cover of the book my sim wrote in game so it would be more realistic but you don't have to. I would, however, advise you to choose a book from the genre you wrote if you plan on using custom cover. You can change the genre but it would save you time to just choose the cover that fits the genre. Here is a handy list of the books in game and their genre.
After you chose your book, click on "next".
Step 4:
After that sims 4 studio will prompt you to save your package file you are about to create. Pick a name and save it in a folder somewhere. I usually save it in my mods folder. I made a folder inside my mods folder called "My sims books" so it will be easier to find and remove if needed.
Step 5:
Next up we have to give a name for our book and a description. Please keep in mind to not delete the \n\n part in the description because it put space between the rows. You can also choose the price of the book. I usually choose it based on the quality of the book but if I'm lazy I just leave it as it is. Here how it looks after my changes (ignore the horrible title and description, I'm bad at this lol):
Once you finish, click on save then put it in your mods folder. And that is it! Now you can go ahead and buy your sim book in game!
This is how it looks in game:
Now Harper is happy her book is on the market:
I also sometimes go to an extreme and make a new edition of my sim book with a custom cover and pretend it's "a new edition for 5 years anniversary of the book" or something like that, so if you would like a tutorial on how I make custom covers let me know!
Hope this helped, happy gaming <3
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#i've established myself as a writer on this website#but let's see how an edit by Harper does#rhink#stole this joke from a stony edit#i just thought it was fitting#idk how y'all get such amazing screenshots#it's impossible#also rhett moves a lot#ya'll must know their mannerisms well#good things#small packages#*y'all
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candy hearts / fallon carrington x reader
summary: fallon doesn’t like valentine’s day very much, but you’re determined to change her mind
commissioned by anonymous, part two to ‘caught a vibe’
pairing: fallon carrington x reader
words: 1219
trigger warnings: stepcest. bottom!fallon, vaginal oral sex, allusions to unhealthy relationships/emotional manipulation
ask box / masterlist / ko-fi
“You know, I didn’t think of you as someone who doesn’t like Valentine’s Day,” you say, flipping through the magazines Fallon has strewn across her bed. She’s deciding her designer for some gala that’s taking place in the summer, examples of the work some local artisans can do splayed out for her to pick. You’re not really sure why she has to choose so far out from the date of the actual event, but most of Fallon’s life eludes you.
Fallon scoffs, tossing another torn-up Vogue across her king-sized bed. “Every year stupid boys would pass me over for some other, nicer girl whose Dad didn’t threaten them with shotguns and financial ruin. And then I got older and, well, Culhane wasn’t exactly allowed to be seen with me and Liam just treated it like any other holiday.”
Such a shame, you want to tell her. How shitty all those stupid men treated you. I can do better. I will do better.
“Those guys are idiots,” you say. Fallon gives a small snort in agreement. “I’m serious! You deserve to be treated like a goddess. If those idiot men couldn’t see it then that’s their loss, not yours.”
She sighs, avoiding your gaze. Even though you’d met the hardened, bitchy Fallon the rest of the world knew well, under her rock-solid exterior was a mushy center akin to a teddy bear. You wanted to protect that part of her from turning to stone, to keep the parts of her that mattered soft and kept away from the harsh outside world. It’s not like you have the same money or resources that Fallon has, you can’t hire bodyguards or buy her a safehouse or take her on vacations to remote places. But what you do have is an overabundance of love, and you’re determined to give her all of it in any way you can.
Fallon doesn’t reply, giving you a half-hearted shrug and pushing around the pages of a recent edition of Harper’s Bazaar.
“Let me prove it to you,” you say after a long period of heavy silence. “Lay back.”
Fallon, luckily, does as you tell her – not in the mood to pick a fight with no prize. You push the magazines from the bed, ignoring the way Fallon protests (as if the designers she liked weren’t already bookmarked with plastic stick tabs) as you move down the bed, kissing down her chest above the sheer burnt orange fabric of her fantastical robe. She’s completely naked underneath, the indents that pepper her skin from her outfit that day slowly becoming less angry with every passing moment. You kiss those, too, willing them away.
Slowly kissing above her navel, you’re soon met with the sight of her neatly trimmed bush framed by perfectly waxed thighs. You admire the way she takes such good care of herself, the way she pays attention to every single detail. You were always a nailbiter, throwing your hair into whatever style took the least amount of effort and whatever clothes looked halfway decent. She’s just perfect, effortlessly; and you love her for it.
You can see she’s already wet, the heady smell of her intoxicating you. You’re convinced you could spend an eternity between her thighs, bringing her to the peak of pleasure as many times as she’d let you.
It’s hard to control yourself, to not dive headfirst and devour her like a man starved for days; but somehow you start with small kitten licks to her clit.
“O-oh,” she moans, perfectly manicured nails threading themselves through your hair and tugging at your scalp. It’s a delicious burn that causes you to moan out as well, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through her abdomen. “You’re way too good at this.”
You smirk just a little, keening under her praise. It’s not as if you’ve had endless partners to practice on over the years – just a few half-hearted hookups from dating apps and shitty bars. But Fallon makes you feel like you can do anything – be anything – especially for her.
Soon you’re grabbing a pillow from behind her, propping her hips up so you can tease a finger at her entrance. She’s wet, so wet, and you’re slipping two fingers into her dripping entrance before you can fully comprehend your actions. It’s easy to find that special spot inside of her, massaging it as your lips remain attached to her clit. Immediately you can feel her body tense at the crash of pleasure inside of her, her eyes screwing shut as she chews on her bottom lip.
You pull away for just a moment, continuing to fuck into her. “You like that?” you ask, desperate for her to tell you everything she’s feeling. Is she hot? Cold? What does it feel like when you fuck into her? Is it better than those stupid two-bump Chumps who she’s dated before? Does she wish they could see her now, unabashed in her pleasure and desires with someone willing to wait on her hand and feet? Does she wish they knew how much you adore her, what you would do for her without a second thought?
“Fuck, yes I do!” Fallon cries, locking eyes with you as you smirk from pride. “I had no idea it felt this fucking good- shit!”
You interrupt her, going back to lapping at her clit, alternating speeds just to tease her just a bit. It’s only when you time your licks to the thrusts of your fingers does she crack – her moans deeper and more animalistic than before.
“Fuck, don’t stop, baby,” Fallon moans, throwing her head back against her silken pillowcases as she ruts into your mouth. “Fucking, fuck-“
You can feel when she comes, her pussy pulsing against your tongue as she cries out. Her thighs clamp your head in place, her hips rising from the bed to get a better angle against your mouth. Your rise with her, continuing to lick in time with the way her clit jumps from the orgasm. Only when her legs begin to twitch and kick to you withdraw your fingers from her aching, red pussy, the slick on your hands catching against the low light. It’s times like this you wish you were a photographer – the low yellow glow, the trail of slick between her cunt and your hand…it deserves to be hung in galleries around the world. Influencers should take selfies with it, coffee table books should be dedicated to it, art schools should have entire classes dedicated to it.
You wipe your hand against your sweatpants before crawling back up to lay beside her. There, you prop yourself up on one elbow, smiling as you watch her breathing slowly start to turn from pants to a more normal pace. “Does Valentine’s Day sound any better now?”
Fallon smirks just a little, pushing you on your back and curling up into your chest. She presses her ear to where your heart lies just below, listening to the rhythmic thuds. “We’ll see.”
Given her soft smile, the way she holds you…you’re sure she sees the same light you do. Still, you’ll pamper her until your dying days – massaging her feet and helping her dress until the end of days, or until she directs you back down between her thighs…whichever comes first.
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#239: Writing for Fun and Profit
My favourite section of Wikipedia is the list of all published works at the bottom of most author pages (like this one). Some are so long that they have to be on a separate page (like this one). It’s fascinating seeing how many things these people created. They kept making things up for as long as they could.
The other day, I read the Wikipedia profile of this random screenwriter, songwriter and director. He's one of those people that need a separate Wiki page to contain their creative output. Hundreds of stories, songs and films. How did he do it? How does someone accomplish so much?
It made me wonder what his day-to-day life looked like. Did he write a new song in the morning, then go direct an award-winning film and work on a short story after dinner?
How can I do the same?
The "Writing Career"
I used to think about my creative pursuits as a career. Gotta earn money with my art, that's the goal, right? That’s how these people write so much. Recently, I’ve been questioning that.
Does it matter whether my art makes money? It sure would be nice. I would have more time to create, wouldn't I? Of course, it’s way more complicated in reality. Being unknown has its undeniable advantages. Also, not having a job doesn't mean that you will write 10 hours per day. When you're not doing much, it can be hard to get motivated.
Is having a day job really the problem that's stopping all your creative aspirations? Or is it something else like the lack of motivation or discipline, or the fear of judgement?
Quitting your job certainly won’t make you more disciplined or less fearful. Quite the opposite. Not having any income will put a lot of pressure on you. It works for some and crushes the others.
Are you writing for hours every day and finishing stories often? Then, increasing the amount of time and energy you can dedicate to writing could help. But if you’re struggling to get started or finish any story, your day job most likely isn’t the problem.
Creating a Body of Work
Would you be happier to be an admired and wealthy one-hit-wonder like Harper Lee or an obscure blogger that publishes thousands of stories to a tiny group of readers but never sees any commercial success?
As years go by, I'm more inclined to the second path. Looking at my creative pursuits through the lens of a career makes me enjoy them less before that even becomes a possibility. It makes no sense at all.
I want to find a way to create freely during my lifetime. I want to be able to say, "Look, I made this!" That's my favourite part.
Thanks to the Internet, you no longer have to ask for permission to publish your art. People will either like your stuff, or they won't. Maybe writing will become your job. Maybe it won't.
In the end, what matters is whether you are proud of what you created. Don’t let anything stop you.
About the Author
Hi, I’m Radek 👋. I’m a writer, software engineer and the founder of Writing Analytics — an editor and writing tracker designed to help you beat writer’s block and create a sustainable writing routine.
I publish a post like this every week. Want to know when the next one comes out? Sign up for my email list below to get it right in your inbox.
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Past Editions
#238: Should You Write a Novel?, March 2022
#237: The Paradox of Overthinking Things, March 2022
#236: Personal Writing Challenges, March 2022
#235: Setting Goals as a Writer, February 2022
#234: A Writer in Motion Tends to Stay in Motion, February 2022
#writing#writers#write#writing tips#writing advice#amwriting#writing life#writeblr#writing update#personal update#me
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from the blog of Hannah Tidwell
Praises to God!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A REAL courtship!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
BRENDA HARPER is MARY’S BEST FRIEND, so she and Chris were ALREADY ACQUAINTED from the times she has VISITED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! As a GODLY and HONORABLE man, unlike CERTAIN DEVIL FAMILIES named STODDARD AND HOPPER/PETERSON/WHATEVER, Chris knew to COMMIT TO and HONOR God’s Will of ONE PARTNER ONLY, just as He COMMANDS, so he NEVER even THOUGHT ABOUT entering a RELATIONSHIP with someone OTHER THAN Lucille, who was SUPPOSED to be HIS GIRL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
After Chris’s HEART was BROKEN, I worried it would be YEARS until he found his GOD-CREATED HELPMEET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But as OUR GODLY FAMILY was leaving that FATEFUL church session, BRENDA approached us to SPEAK with MARY and GOD spoke to CHRIS’S heart: THERE SHE IS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! His TRUE LOVE was SO CLOSE this WHOLE TIME, but he was TOO BLINDED by a SATANIC, DECEIVING SEDUCTRESS to see it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And SWEET BRENDA was PATIENT through IT ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! She KNEW that, instead of TAKING ACTION like some kind of FEMINIST, she NEEDED to PRAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! She simply PRAYED that the LORD would REVEAL the DIVINE TRUTH to CHRIS, and CONTINUED to let her NATURAL GODLY COUNTENANCE SHINE when she visited, and THE LORD REWARDED HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
REMEMBER, ladies: NEVER pursue A MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PRAY to GOD, and if it is HIS WILL that you BE TOGETHER, then He will LEAD your man to YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Brenda passed not just OUR TEST, but also GOD’S TEST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And as REWARD, she and CHRIS get to live HAPPILY EVER AFTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CONGRATULATIONS, CHRISTOPHER AND BRENDA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
from the comment section of the blog of Hannah Tidwell
helenswalkwiththewatcher 9m
Mrs. Tidwell, this post is very inappropriate. Proverbs 20:19, Ephesians 4:29, Leviticus 19:16, 1 Timothy 5:13, and more make God’s stance on slander and gossip clear. You did not need to mention my family when announcing this courtship, you could have shared Brenda’s testimony to patience and left it at that. It is very disappointing to see a sister in Christ act this way.
hannahsusannatidwell 7m
WELL, I find it VERY DISAPPOINTING that a SISTER IN CHRIST would LIE about HER DAUGHTER entering a PRE-COURTSHIP COURTSHIP if it ISN’T SO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Proverbs 12:22, Colossians 3:9, and the COMMANDMENTS make “GOD’S STANCE” on LYING CLEARER THAN WATER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
helenswalkwiththewatcher 4m
Mrs. Tidwell, we never said anything about a “pre-courtship courtship”. We said our children could be friends until they are old enough for dating, until they’re 14 or so. Your delusions are not our fault.
hannahsusannatidwell 2m
I can SEE why your FAMILY is FULL OF SIN - you SAY THEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You are CORRUPTING YOUR DAUGHTER into LESBIAN TRANS IDEOLOGY and she WILL NEVER find a TRULY GODLY MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I will PRAY FOR YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
alphamanofgod69 10m
mommmmmmmmm shut up my heart wasnt broken thats lame girl stuff stop emasculating me 😠 😡 👎 #realman #godlyman #alpha #dtf
hannahsusannatidwell 9m
My DEEP APOLOGIES, CHRIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I NEVER intended to IMPLY you were NOT a REAL MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! UNFORTUNATELY, I do NOT know how to EDIT POSTS, but I will MAKE A NEW ONE telling EVERYBODY about what a STRONG and MASCULINE MAN you ARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BY THE WAY, what does DTF mean???????????????
alphamanofgod69 9m
down to fellowship
hannahsusannatidwell 8m
Then I AM DTF ALL DAY EVERY DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #momsdtf #womendtf
bunnymomma 7m
u sure are, tidwell. u sure are
hannahsusannatidwell 5m
@.bunnymomma I DO NOT APPRECIATE YOUR SARCASM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m more DTF than YOU will EVER BE, you GODLESS WHORE-PER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU would not KNOW FELLOWSHIP if God WROTE IT IN THE SKY, because you are TOO BUSY looking DOWN AT SATAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
bunnymomma 4m
tidwell please Simgle what DTF means
hannahsusannatidwell 2m
I WILL NOT, and ONLY because YOU suggested it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I TRUST my PURE AND HOLY SON more than I TRUST your LEFT PINKY, SHE-DEVIL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
bunnymomma 1m
ok. ur social funeral
#fundielegacies#generation 1#fundielegacies hannah susanna#fundielegacies christopher johnathan#fundielegacies brenda tiffany#fundielegacies jessica wendy#tidwells
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For the Holidays - Part 4
Summary: In which Spencer doesn’t want to go to his high school reunion, but you tagging along changes things. “You know, I don’t remember you being able to run this fast back at the academy.”
WC: 2.4k
Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fake-dating trope, pining (so much pining), fluff, defensive Spencer, more angst but not from unnecessary trauma, more emotional-support Reader, reunion arc, song fic, emotional/physical intimacy (to the max)
Don't think we fit in at this party
Everyone's got so much to say, oh yeah, yeah
When we walked in, I said I'm sorry, mmm
But now I think that we should stay
Not a lot of things shake Spencer. It’s a very short list; his knowledge is expansive, he reads studies and scientific journals for fun, knows the most random statistics and facts just for the slightest possibility of it being useful. There're the rare occasions where unsubs catch him off guard, but at this point he's hardly phased. Nothing surprises him.
Although, this⎼this has made it to the top of that list.
“You’re sorry?” Spencer repeats, not sure if he heard correctly. His body cements in place and he holds his breath, waiting for the punchline. Waiting for one of them to jump him, for someone to say, ‘LOL jk’ like Garcia does when he doesn’t get the joke.
Because he doesn’t like this joke. It wasn’t funny back then, it’s not funny now.
But they don’t. Seconds pass and his tormentors, like him, are just as frozen, just as breathless, just waiting for his reaction.
They’re serious?
Spencer’s lips curl as his nose wrinkles. “You’re sorry? You think saying sorry is going to make up for everything?”
“God no, of course not. But over time, we’ve come to realize,” Alexa’s voice trembles, like she’s holding back tears. She exchanges glances with Harper and the football team before taking a tentative step towards him. “You deserve a real apology at least.”
Spencer recoils, the words jostling his brain. Alexa, Harper, and the few members of the football team all nod in agreement, as if they discussed this beforehand.
She adds, “We don’t expect you to forgive us now or ever. But we hope to try and⎼”
She’s preaching, something about regret and forgiveness and bridging gaps, but Spencer barely registers her voice⎼the words drowned out by the thrumming Christmas music. It becomes more garbled and muffled. Like he’s under water and he’s sinking.
He struggles to catch his breath. His brain reels until the only thing he can focus on is…
Anger. Familiar and hot and so loud that it rings in his ears. Against the storm, it’s a buoy in a rumbling ocean, the clearest, safest, most tangible thing he finds as he’s caught in the undertow.
Just like that he breaks the water’s surface.
And he latches on.
“You’re not sorry,” Spencer lets out a dry chuckle. Alexa and Harper open their mouths to protest but he continues, “You want to know how I know this? Because I have several degrees, one of them being in psychology.”
They shake their heads. “We are⎼”
He cuts them off, his tone rising above Santa Tell Me as it bellows overhead. “No, you're not. You don’t feel remorse. You don’t blame yourselves. You feel guilty, and your attempt at apologizing for what you did tells me that you can’t live with that guilt. That’s why you’re apologizing. You want a clear conscience. You want me to⎼to just act like what you did was okay, to act like nothing happened. But it did and I⎼” Spencer’s vision blurs and his eyes burn. He squeezes them shut.
He will not cry. He will not cry. He’s wasted enough tears on these people.
Spencer meets their gaze, and he knows they have to strain their ears when he rasps, “⎼It wasn't okay.”
“Reid,” Harper’s calls, her voice wobbling. For a second he sees it; Alexa, Harper, the football team backing them up as gold and white spotlights roam over them. Their eyes glisten with worry, and he sees the pain, the honesty, all the signs of truth and genuine regret with a profiler’s accuracy.
A small part of him hopes maybe they are. Maybe they do regret it the pain they caused him.
The concept is jarring. And Spencer doesn’t have the capacity to process it. Not now.
So he turns away, clearing his throat. “Excuse me.” Without thinking, he slips his hand out of yours, startling you, and pushes through the throng of people.
“Um,” You hesitate as your gaze switches between watching Spencer and his (ex?) bullies. Then his back disappears in the crowd and you start after him, “I’ll be right back?”
Not the smoothest exit, but it’ll have to do.
You quickly weave between party-goers, rushing towards the exit. By the time you burst through the doors, Spencer is gone.
You’ve lost him.
⎼
Okay, you didn’t lose him.
You’re not even surprised, catching your breath at the gaping doors. Light spills from the hall, casting a long shadow as you scan the room, your footfalls muffled by the old carpet. It takes a little browsing until you realize you’re in the fiction area.
You find Spencer in the deepest corner of the library. He sits on the floor, slumped against the shelves of the classic literature section. You bite back a smile; his legs are too long for the small aisle between the bookcases, so his knees are bent and his hands rest in his lap.
He barely notices as you carefully pad over to him. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Spencer mumbles, staring vacantly at the rows of worn books. They’re dusty, mostly 3rd and 4th editions. He’s fairly certain they’re the same ones he read when he attended⎼damn, the American education system is underfunded⎼and despite the comforting presence of you and his old friends, he can’t bring himself to look at you, ashamed of his outburst.
“You know, I don’t remember you being able to run this fast back at the academy,” You let out an exaggerated wheeze, an attempt to lighten his mood.
It sort of works. Spencer huffs out a laugh, but he sobers quickly. “Sorry for running out on you like that.”
You squeeze yourself into the small gap, mirroring him against the adjacent bookcase, legs tangling with his. “I told you, you have nothing to apologize for.”
“Maybe but it’s still not fair to you,” Spencer swallows the lump in his throat. He hears you snort and he looks up, seeing the wry smile on your lips. “What?”
You roll your eyes. “Of course you still manage to think of me, even though this whole thing is for you. Reid, if I wasn’t so concerned, I’d feel touched.”
He flushes, and while it's too dark to see each other clearly, Spencer still ducks his head.
You smile shyly as you nudge the toe of your shoe against his. A question.
A second later, he nudges you back. An answer.
Satisfied, you don't say another word as you both find comfort in the silence and in the musty scent of used books. If you strain your ears, you can hear Snowman faintly echo down the empty hallways. It's hauntingly peaceful.
Then Spencer breaks the silence.
It starts with a sniff and you shrug it off. Probably dust, allergies. But there's another and another until all you hear is his breathes, unsteady and wet and⎼fuck.
Spencer is crying.
He bites his lip as he clasps his hands tightly in his lap, trying to pull himself together. Scrape together whatever semblance of pride he’s got left. He's been humiliated enough today; he doesn't need to fall apart in front of you too.
Tears well in his eyes. A whimper escapes him, and because you’re alone⎼no music, no loud guests to cover him⎼you feel the brunt of it, rattling your bones.
Your willpower snaps.
Touch is a powerful thing. There are people who simply don’t care for it but others, they’re uncomfortable with the intimacy behind the sensation. Many underestimate the tremendous courage it takes to let others into your personal bubble. And for you⎼
Touch is... personal. It’s giving a spare key to your place. It’s confessing your sins before you face Death.
It’s sharing your sweaters with Spencer because he thinks they look cool. It’s cooking and cleaning the failed trials afterwards, standing at the sink and flinging soap bubbles at each other. It’s sharing the blanket when heading home after an exhausting case.
Touch is comfort. So that’s what you give him.
Spencer's breath hitches as you crawl over to him. On your knees, you settle between his legs and he freezes, terrified if he moves you will leave. Or disappear. He’s not sure. But you’re so close that his breath puffs against your chin. He tries to hold them in. It makes him hiccup.
To his surprise, you pull out a handkerchief.
Though his body trembles, he doesn’t protest as your hands gently push back his hair. He follows the movement, his head falling back against the bookcase as he watches your dark silhouette hover over him, softly outlined by the streetlight seeping through the windows. He lets you take the tears and the hurt, dabbing them away from his tear-stained cheeks.
Every teardrop is a knife. Every droplet you don’t catch, it's a cut.
Spencer wonders if he's dreaming. Maybe he tripped and knocked himself out? Or did the football team clock him so hard it put him in a coma? Or maybe he fainted?
Because if the universe is rewarding him after all the bullshit he's been through, all the work he’s done, he hopes this is it. This is the closest you've ever been⎼you’ve hugged and comforted each other before but this is so much more intimate than any other moment you’ve shared. And given the chance, he knows he would spend the rest of his days like this. His face in your hands as you wipe away the misery and despair.
The thought sends him into a new wave of tears. If you mind, you say nothing.
Spencer shuts his eyes, leaning into every touch, every caress. It’s too dark to see, so he tries to memorize what his eyes can’t. Your hands are cool against his skin and your soap smells good (or maybe that’s just you?). And as much as he appreciates your mindfulness to his germaphobic tendencies, he wishes you'd come closer. To keep touching him.
But it’s odd, Spencer thinks as you smooth back his hair. You offer no words of encouragement. No words of wisdom. No motivational speech that’ll prompt him to bounce right back. You simply wait, brushing away his tears as he hiccups and sobs.
It just… doesn’t seem real. Attending the reunion like Morgan suggested (and the fact you're kneeling between his legs, but he's trying not to think too hard about it). The idea sounded so simple and terrifying at the same time. He planned to show off⎼peacock, if you will⎼and you even helped him practice. Spencer was prepared to bring them to their knees (okay, not really but he was willing to try).
And now years later, they decide to apologize?
The audacity.
They didn’t spend years pushing past the pain. They didn’t hope the memories would erode with time. They didn’t have to pretend everything was okay, like nothing happened, like they didn’t do anything wrong.
So excuse him if a little ‘sorry’ doesn’t make him feel any better.
Is it⎼is he weak for feeling like this? It’s been too long. They shouldn’t have this sort of effect on him.
“I don’t think that matters.”
Spencer frowns at you. After his tears dry up and his hiccups subside, you settle beside him, your handkerchief, moist with his tears, fisted in his hands now. He tries to ignore the way your shoulders and thighs brush against each other.
“I-I’m not invalidating you. But I don't think this is about being weak or sensitive. What they did to you… cut you deep and you never got closure and-and you’re still hurting. Even if it’s just a little,” You speak low, gazing at the bookshelves across from you as you stumble for the right words. He sees you angle your head towards him. Feels you shift next to him. “It's been years, but time and space doesn’t make your feelings any less valid. So no, I don't think this is about strength. It was a prank gone wrong, and you were just a kid.”
That’s putting it lightly. Spencer bites his tongue.
You don’t need to know that.
He folds the handkerchief in his hands as he murmurs, “Easy for you to say.”
He feels you stiffen, and he considers the possibility that he said something wrong.
“What do you mean?” You ask.
“It’s not bad or anything,” Spencer sits up, hands waving about as he rushes to assure you. “You’re always so composed. Even during the worst cases, you hardly lose it. In terms of stoicism, you’re basically on par with Hotch.”
Spencer cringes, the words out of his mouth before he realizes.
For a second you don’t respond, but his heart stalls as he practically feels you pull away from him, even though physically you’re still there. You turn away, pulling your knees to your chest.
“Is that what you think of me?” Fuck, you sound betrayed by his assumptions.
“I⎼well… ” Spencer wrings his hands together. He’s at a loss for words, afraid he’ll say something wrong again. He wishes he had night vision; your body language is closed off, protective, and he knows your expression is pained.
Oh god, he did that. It hurts knowing he did that.
“Believe it or not, Reid, I’m not exactly the poster child for calm and collected," You unfold as you look back at him, voice laced with vulnerability. "I've got cracks of my own."
"... Eh,” Like you, Spencer attempts to brighten your mood, elbowing you, “I need to conduct an observational study to back that up."
He knows you're smiling as you huff, “Is that your roundabout way of saying I can go to you? When I need a shoulder to cry on?”
I'd literally drop everything if you came to me for no reason but okay.
Spencer shrugs, grinning as you push him so hard he topples over. And as you laugh and shove at each other like teenagers, Spencer concurs. You both have your cracks. You're cracked and chipped and if you take the time to look there's damage in places hidden away from the naked eye.
You're cracked but it makes you all the more perfect.
AN: 4/5 whoops
yall don’t kink shame me but i’m a slut for emotional and physical intimacy 😳 and not to be toxic but Reids hot when he mad 😳
what kind of student were/are you in school, middle/high/college?
i think i got the hang of the angst now im quite proud of my writing here :) i bummed myself out writing these scenes you dont even know
small background with Mysterious!Reader and Reid yes they were in the FBI academy together :)
fun fact: when i was writing part 3 and 4 i had to go back and watch the elephants memory episode after realizing i forgot the names of Reids bullies. i was already halfway done before i noticed i wrote Harry instead of Harper gdm
when i started FtH, i cackled at the idea of Reid confronting his bullies. just seemed funny to me to have him be pissed and ready to shank his enemies with words and just lose that chance bc his bullies are human too and realize their mistake so they want to make up for it lmaooo now here he is angry and he can’t really express it the way he thought he would
(also if you noticed the lines ref to @idmakeitbehave’s fic cracked perfection, just a little thingy bc they inspire me and i love their everything <333)
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#matthew gray gubler x reader#mgg x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#mgg x y/n#mgg fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds x y/n#spencer reid x y/n#mgg fic#mgg imagine#criminal minds x oc
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