#playchoices open heart

[choiceofthereader]

Food for the Soul

pairing: Bryce Lahela x GN!Reader word count: 2.7k warnings: none, nothing but fluff ao3 link summary: In which Bryce tries his very best to make you a cake.

There are times where you like to believe you're a somewhat patient person. A strong person, even, if you're feeling particularly modest. You've endured countless situations—countless patients—that have grated at the very cells of your nerves. Have driven you to the brink and back, have made the bitter and acrid taste of anger familiar, and yet, somehow, you have always pulled through. You're just resilient like that.

So this... this should be no different.

The plastic chair you're sitting in is too big, too damned slippery, and with each move you make it feels like you're right on the edge of falling and landing on your ass. No matter how much you try, no matter how much you wriggle and squirm, you can't get comfortable. It only adds to the irritation that's been clogging your veins like viscous motor oil. It's not that you're mad, per se.

You're just... tired.

The exhaustion you feel is all-consuming, like a parasite that's nestled and burrowed its way in your brain. It lingers in your heavy limbs, in your leaden tongue that has you slurring with every word you speak. With every shuddery breath, with every burdensome blink, you feel as if you are one step closer to escaping into the arms of Hypnos.

But he must have other plans for you because a ragged sigh soon escapes you, and you take that moment to focus outward, to focus on the hundreds of people milling about around you. Blips of different conversations are sparking in your ears and dancing in your skull, but the words are muddled, too jumbled by the static that resonates in your head. You're not sure what time it is, probably late in the afternoon if the darkening of the sky is anything to go by, but what you do know is that you are ready to leave.

Like, yesterday.

Today was meant to be a restful one, a rare day off for you to lounge around lazily at Bryce's apartment and do not a damned thing.

It is your birthday, after all.

You're not ashamed to admit that your mind had wandered while you were at work. Would you two go out to dinner? Have another late-night rendezvous at a go-kart track, or perhaps a quiet night in? Maybe even something a bit more salacious, something that would have the night ending with a pleasurable sigh leaving your lips and your name on his. But instead of all those potential wonderful things, you've been... here. At the mall.

At least you're not alone.

Keiki is sitting across from you, watching as you pick forlornly at the pizza you had bought earlier. The grease clings to your fingertips like the hunger that's sticking to your ribs, but you can't find it within yourself to eat. Eating would involve moving, moving would involve expending energy, and you must conserve that energy lest your eyes fall shut.

A low murmur of your name has you looking up, and what you see has a fond smile tugging at your lips.

Keiki's eyes are crinkled as she looks over you, lower lip caught between her teeth. Her arms are crossed like they always are, but this time, you can see the tips of her fingers digging into her biceps. There's a rigidness to her posture, one that's so unlike her, and it doesn't take a diagnostician to deduce what's wrong with her.

She's worried.

Regardless of how she likes to play it off with quick quips or compliments that somehow always border the line of mocking, you've grown close to Keiki.

It's all for everyone to see if they just know where to look. The competitive game nights that end in laughter, the late-night astrology talks, even moments where she shares small tidbits of her home life. Her walls are always up, protected by the barbed wires composed of her scathing wit and sarcasm. But there are times, like now, where you'll find a door with your name on it, unlocked just for you at that particular moment.

One day, you hope she'll give you a key.

Not wanting her to fret anymore than she already has, you smile.

"I'm alright." You placate, pushing the plate of pizza away. "Just a bit tired."

It's an understatement to say the least, but it's not one you're willing to admit aloud. Your night shift had started out relatively normal, the lull in patients a welcome reprieve, but come afternoon, you couldn't tell if the blurring of your eyes was from sheer exhaustion or tears of frustration. Probably both, but she doesn't need to know that.

Keiki only narrows her eyes. You can tell she doesn't believe you, and you can't really find it within yourself to blame her. What she sees in front of her is the epitome of exhaustion: droopy eyes, a slouched posture, a barely concealed yawn escaping from the recesses of your mouth. She stares at you for what you know is only a few moments, but she somehow manages to make it feel like hours under her piercing gaze.

With a quick bob of her head, the plastic chair scrubs against the floor as she stands up. "Come on, we're going home."

That perks you up a bit.

"Wai—what?" Perhaps not the most eloquent stringing of words you've put together, but when you're practically running on fumes, who can really blame you?

"Home," she enunciates. "You know, that place where you and Bryce like to act like you haven't seen each other in years, but in reality, it's only been like"—she checks her watch—"two minutes at the most?" She shakes her head, looking at you in mock pity as she tries to fight off what you know is a shit-eating grin. "Like lovesick teenagers. I'll never understand it."

You ignore her statement, trying even harder to ignore the heat you feel across your cheeks. You guys aren't that bad. Sure, maybe there was that one time where Bryce serenaded you with the cheesiest love song your ears had ever heard, and it probably doesn't help that you sang along, but does that really count as being 'lovesick teenagers'?

The answer that conjures in your mind doesn't fall in your favor.

"Anways!" you say quickly, averting your gaze, but you don't miss how Keiki preens at your embarrassment. "What about the surprise you guys are planning?"

Keiki snorts. "We're not 'planning' anything." Bending down, she picks up the white bags by her side. "I told you, I wanted to show you the new game store." She even shakes the bags for emphasis.

"Oh, really?" you ask, grinning as you look down at your watch. "We stayed in that store for over an hour! You wouldn't even let me leave!" Her insistence of just one more game, please! left you in the store for hours, and you'd be happy if you never saw another board game for the rest of your life.

She pouts. "I just wanted to spend time with you on your birthday," she counters, her voice barely above a whisper.

Oh, she's good.

The downcast look, the averting of her eyes, the low pitch of her crestfallen tone. She paints the perfect picture of innocence, and you're not ashamed to admit she does it well.

"You're so full of shit!" you accuse, but your voice is soft, fond, the hint of a smile creeping at the edges of your lips.

She only grins, giving a casual shrug at the unveiling of her ploy. "Look, even if we were planning anything, which we're not"—she winks—"it's not going to matter if you can't keep your eyes open long enough to enjoy it."

Keiki makes a fine point. You've trudged throughout the mall for what has felt like an eternity, and as much as you like spending time with Keiki, you also like being in the loving arms of your bed. With that thought in mind, you stand up from your chair and stretch. The cracking and popping of your joints feel therapeutic, remedial, and you welcome the slight boost of energy that it gives you. Pushing in your chair, you grab the paper-thin plate that contains your pizza and start walking towards the exit.

"Are you... are you taking that pizza with you?" she asks, frowning. "It's kind of been sitting there for a while."

You feel your cheeks heat. "Hey, I paid like... 4 bucks for this. I'm not letting it go to waste." As if you could on your salary.

Keiki only raises a hand in a placating gesture. "Not judging, just... curious."

Even though you don't particularly believe that, you make no comment, instead just focusing on putting one foot in the front of the other. It's not long before you feel Keiki nudging you with her elbow, and you frown at the slight grimace that mars her face.

"We weren't that obvious, right?"

She startles at the loud snort that escapes you, huffing in offense when a grin forms on your lips. You don't think they could've made it any more obvious.

. . .

When you had arrived earlier at Bryce's apartment, dead set on keeling over in his bed, you were immediately bombarded with pleas to just leave.

Go out and enjoy your birthday. Do you really wanna spend the entire day cooped up here?

The answer to his question was a loud and resounding Yes!, but you couldn't help but notice just how wrong his smile was. It was an easy, carefree thing, but... stilted, strained. There was an edge to his smile, something akin to panic in those brown eyes. It also didn't help that he was slowly inching you closer and closer to the door. Keiki was tugging incessantly at your hand, claiming there was a new store in the mall that was selling a new board game she wanted to try.

Much to their relief but much to your chagrin, you relented.

. . .

The memory makes your steps lighter, the haze around your head just a bit clearer. To love and be loved is a wonderful thing, and there's not a day that goes by where you're not grateful for them being in your life. You pinch your fingers together until there's barely any space left between them. "Just a bit."

She flushes.

You're quick to reassure her, waving away her worries like lingering smoke in the air, "Oh, don't be embarrassed. I'm sure whatever you guys have planned, it'll be great."

After all, what could go wrong in the span of a few hours?

. . .

The first thing you notice is that it most assuredly is not great.

"Keiki, I said at least not for ano—babe!"

Bryce is standing stock-still in the center of the living room, the very image of a Greek god. But while you may believe that Bryce has an Adonis level of attractiveness, you're pretty sure it's not the cause of why your eyes are beginning to well with tears. The apartment looks foggy, smokey, and you fan the air in front of you as you step closer to him.

That's when you see it.

Balloons.

An alarming amount of balloons in a myriad of colors are pinned to the ceiling, the curtains, all with the Rod of Asclepius printed on them. A banner hangs pitifully on the wall behind the sofa with big, chunky letters screaming HAPPY BIRTHDAY at you, and you notice that your name is written at the bottom in loopy cursive. You're pretty sure that it's Bryce's handwriting, but that's not the worst part.

There's flour. Everywhere. Especially on Bryce. His clothes are saturated with flour, the black apron he wears even more so. When you squint, you make out small specks littered throughout his hair, clinging to his eyelashes like fallen snow. Before you can even sputter out a befuddled What the hell?, Bryce sidles up to you, nearly losing his balance on the wooden floor. He's wringing his hands, a rare nervous energy radiating off of him in waves.

"Babe!" Bryce bellows, cringing at the crack in his voice. He's smiling at you, but it's a shell of his usual megawatt grin, and the chuckle he lets out is strained, like he had to physically drag it out of himself. He lets his gaze drift towards his sister. "Keiki," he says pointedly, to which she only shrugs. There's tension between them, so thick it almost seems palpable, their gazes never wavering.

Until Keiki sighs loudly, rolling her eyes.

"What was I supposed to do?" She tosses her bags on the couch. "Hold them hostage?"

She only smirks at Bryce's sputtering and while you normally find their bickering amusing, you know from experience that if you don't put a stop to it now, it will only continue well into the night.

"Bryce?" you ask, tone light. "What... what happened here?"

"Well..." he trails off, averting his gaze. "Lets just go to the kitchen."

You all walk towards the kitchen, noticing that the closer you get, the pungent smell of smoke intensifies. And the kitchen... well, it's a mess.

There are pots and pans strewn throughout the kitchen, each one dirtier than the last. There's flour on the countertops, batter on the shelves, what you hope is frosting on the floor.

And then you see it.

On the stove top, resting on a glass plate that you know has never seen the light of day, is a cake. The first thing you notice is that it's lopsided, burnt edges peaking out from beneath what you know is your favorite frosting. It's hideous, but there's something oddly charming about it. Is this what it means to 'make something with love'?

"Look," Bryce starts, running a hand through his hair. It causes the flour in his hair to streak, and you don't miss how Keiki tries to stifle a giggle. "I know it's not the best, but—"

You don't let him finish, instead rushing to throw yourself at him, your apology low and murmured at the oomph he lets out. You two nearly collapse on the floor as you wind your arms around him. Squeezing tight, you bury your face into his neck, and beneath everything that you smell—beneath the burnt cake, the expensive shampoo he splurges on, you smell home.

You feel at home.

It's the same feeling when you wake up next to him, his face bathed in the early morning light, when your lips meet in a slow dance that only you two know the steps to, when his words are the only thing keeping you afloat as the foundation around you crumbles. You love this man and you wonder if he knows, if he feels the same way you do.

"I knew I did a good job," he beams, his hands a warm weight as they settle on your waist, thumb brushing a small sliver of exposed skin.

"They haven't even tasted it," Keiki mutters.

Bryce sighs loudly, "Why are you still here?"

Untangling yourself from him, you rummage around in the drawers until you find a fork. You tear off a sizeable chunk, popping it in your mouth.

You try to keep a straight face.

It's... it's terrible.

The cake is dry, the frosting gritty, and the overwhelming taste of burnt cake settles heavily on your tongue. You try to school your face into one of neutrality, but if Bryce's wince is anything to go by, you don't think you're doing a very good job.

"Look, I know it's terrible," Bryce whines, a crestfallen look on his face. "I just... wanted to do something special for you. I wanted your birthday to be perfect." His frown upticks into a small smile and he winks, "Like you."

You ignore Keiki's gagging in the background, instead focusing on the heat in your cheeks.

There's a comforting warmth in your heart, and you can't help but to think just how far you've truly fallen for this man, of how far you've come with each other. Even though those 3 words haven't been spoken yet, you've come to realize that with every loving touch, in every heady kiss and whispered affection, Bryce shows his love through his actions.

You take a look around the apartment, at the birthday decorations, at the multiple attempts of cake making. It's perfect, and truthfully? You wouldn't have it any other way.

Keiki steps forward. "So... should we just go buy a cake?"

Bryce doesn't even say a word as he walks to the fridge and opens it, pulling out a single layer cake.

He gives a cheeky grin. "Next year will be better, I promise."

You smile, giddy at the idea.

You can't wait.

[garashir]

playing open heart after watching house md is so funny to me because dr ramsey just tore mc a new one for annie going into anaphylactic shock because of the treatment but like…that’s step one of any dr. house case is to almost kill the patient to rule out the initial treatment theory…chill dude she’ll be fine

[tobias-carrick-appreciation-week]

Day 5: After Hours: Romance & Personal

Day 5 - April 5 - After Hours: Romance & Personal Life

What did Tobias do when he was off the clock? Did he have friends he hung out with regularly? See his family? Did he date? Hobbies? This category is broad - use your imagination! 😏

Remember - you can send in old or new fics, headcanons, artwork, edits, moodboards, etc.

Also... you can tag us in a post any day of the week (even if the designated day has passed). It will be reblogged here on the designated day unless it has already passed. Then we will post right away. 😊

Template added for Day 5

[jerzwriter]

It's Christmastime - and Ethan is thoroughly unimpressed. Luckily, he has Kaycee to turn that around - but can she make it happen?

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Kaycee MacClennan (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 1,411 Summary: See above.

A/N: Participating in @choicesholidays winter event - New Traditions - they have a few in here! :) Also, @choicesdecember2024, I think Miracle is the best match! lol

The line felt like it stretched the entire length of the mall, accompanied by all the annoyances that came with it: frazzled parents, sugared-up kids, and the occasional beleaguered adult questioning their life choices. It didn’t take long to determine what group a tall, scowling doctor with his arms crossed in front of his chest belonged to. Ethan Ramsey was firmly in the last group, and Kaycee couldn’t have been more amused.

He should have expected this, she thought; after all, this was their second Christmas together, and he had already survived year one at her side. She smiled at him, the picture of holiday cheer in her red sweater adorned with tiny reindeer. That sweater wasn’t a split-second decision. No, Kaycee had taken months to find the perfect design and purchased two, one for each of them. Ethan was wearing his, too. It would be visible if he took off his leather jacket, but he had made it clear before they left his condo... he was NOT taking off his leather jacket.

Kaycee’s eyes were full of mischief as she gently nudged him with her elbow. “You’re awfully quiet today,” she said with a slight smile.

Ethan let out an exasperated sigh. “You dragged me here against my will. Can’t you just enjoy my silent suffering?”

Chuckling, she stepped closer and leaned into his side. “Stop it, grumpy! You enjoy this, too! You’re just too much of a curmudgeonly old man to admit it!”

He arched an eyebrow, looking at her with a frown. “Negative,” he deadpanned.

���Yes, you absolutely are!” Kaycee insisted. “You’re so lucky to have me here to fix all this bah-humbug of yours! Besides... remember what I promised you later... if  you’re a good sport.”

His demeanor seemed to change on a dime, the corners of his mouth twitching upward despite himself. He leaned in close and whispered so only she could hear him. “I seem to remember a promise that involved scanty red lingerie and mistletoe. Can you remind me of the other details again? It might make this whole experience a little more bearable?”

“Sorry, babe,” she answered with amusement. “There will be no reward until we finish the task at hand, and your chances are better if you do it with a smile on your face.”

The line continued to shuffle forward at an excruciatingly slow pace, and though he tried to contain it, Ethan’s grumbling continued. “This is ridiculous.” “You realize we’re adults, Kaycee.” “We really don’t belong here.”

She bit her lip to refrain from laughing, her amusement growing with each mumbled complaint. She peeked ahead and saw it wouldn’t be much longer; the jolly man in red was getting closer with every step. “Stop it, Ethan! You know I’m right about this.”

“Right? Right about what?”

“That this is going to be fun. Admit it—deep down, you’re excited.”

Ethan snorted. “The only thing I’m excited about is how you’ll be repaying me later.”

She looked up at him with a smirk and playfully punched his arm. “If you keep torturing me here, I may just renege on my promise!”

Ethan looked stricken. “You wouldn’t!”

Kaycee didn’t get a chance to answer as they finally reached the front of the line, where an overly excited elf dressed in green and red tights greeted them with an almost eerie smile. “Hi there! Are we going for the basic photo package or the deluxe? The deluxe comes with extra prints, digital downloads, and even a festive frame!”

Before Ethan could say a word, Kaycee jumped in. “Deluxe, please. I want as many prints as possible to send to all our friends and family.”

Ethan’s eyes went wide. “That was not part of the deal,” he protested.

Kaycee remained the picture of holiday bliss when she smiled at his side. “Ethan, but it’s Santa!”

How had he ended up here? He was almost forty. He should be home with a glass of spiked eggnog by the fireplace. He ran a hand down his face and grumbled. “This is absolutely absurd.”

He was about to complain more when a tiny voice from behind interrupted him. Ethan felt the little hand tugging at his jacket just before the words hit his ear. “Mister, are you saying you don’t believe in Santa Claus?”

Ethan froze, turning to find a little boy of no more than six staring up at him. His wide eyes were filled with innocence, almost begging Ethan to offer a reassuring response. Ethan glanced at the boy and then at his parents, standing behind him. They watched with an amused expression as they waited for his reply.

Ethan hadn’t asked for it, but in that moment, memories from his own childhood rose to the surface. When he was about this boy’s age, he would spend his whole year compiling lists for Santa, three to be exact. One was a compilation of all the good things he had done, and the second was confessions of the not-so-good stuff. That one had an attachment with explanations and how he attempted to atone.   Then, there was his Christmas wish list. Each year, when he wrote it, he was sure he wouldn’t receive most of the things he asked for. He might have been young, but he was smart enough to know his family was struggling. He could tell when his Mom put an extra sweater on him instead of turning up the heat, when his dad insisted on taking extra shifts even though he was tired, and when his parents would put a few items back before they checked out at the grocery store. He was young but bright, and he knew.

Yet, every Christmas morning, it seemed like a miracle took place. He had no idea how it happened, but most, if not all, that he wished for would be wrapped beautifully under the family Christmas tree. Back then, he took that as proof positive that Santa was real. There was no other way. He hadn’t thought about that for years, but standing before this little boy, he could feel the emotion welling inside.

There was magic during the holiday season. It didn’t come from mythical creatures in red suits or tiny reindeer – but from the people who loved us the most. It came from parents who worked hard to create that magic, including his own parents, who did without themselves just to see the look in his eyes on Christmas day.

It came in the form of the beautiful woman beaming at his side. The one who knew him better than he knew himself and was not about to let him spend the rest of his days thinking wonder and hope were something that had died long ago. She insisted they had a place in his grown-up life, and looking at her now, it was apparent, the message was received.

He knelt down to the child’s level, his voice soft and tender, his eyes warm. “Of course I believe in Santa Claus. Santa is all about the magic of the holiday season. And you know what? That magic is real. One hundred percent real.”

The boy’s eyes sparkled with his reply. “Really? You mean it!”

Ethan nodded, wrapping his arm around Kaycee, who was beaming up at him with so much affection it made his chest tighten. “Really. It’s all around us – it’s surrounding you and me.”

The boy grinned as he turned and hugged his parent’s knees, and Ethan met the gaze of the woman he loved. “YOU are all the magic I need,” he murmured placing a kiss atop her head. “Thank you for reminding me of who I used to be.”

Kaycee’s eyes filled with tears as she held him tight, he didn’t know it, but he had just given her the greatest gift of all.

“Uhm, so... the pictures?” The now irritated elf asked.

“You heard the lady,” Ethan stated. “The deluxe package, in fact, make it two!”

Before they stepped into the winter wonderland that served as a backdrop to Santa’s throne, Ethan turned to Kaycee once more. “Merry Christmas, baby,” he said with a smile she’d cherish for all time.

“Merry Christmas, Ethan,” she whispered back.

Ethan took her hand and led her down the candy cane-trimmed path toward Santa, knowing precisely what he’d say when the jolly man asked him what he wanted for Christmas. He already had his gift, and she was standing by his side.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[liaromancewriter]

Trimming The Christmas Tree

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine)

A/N: Submission for @choicesholidays and @choicesdecember2024 prompt "Decorations"

Cassie joined Ethan in hanging the last two ornaments. She wanted some part of trimming the tree this year, even if it was something small. He took the star topper from her hand and stretched his arm to place it at the top of the tree. She stepped back to admire Ethan’s work and nodded in appreciation. “Gold star, babe.”

I just received this fan art and couldn't wait to share it. Thanks to ArtbyAinna (IG) for bringing this scene from my fic, Christmas Tree Traditions, to life.

Tag list below the cut

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @justyourusualash

@lady-calypso @kyra75 @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect

@queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @snoopdogcone @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

@thosehallowedhalls

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanart

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate

[choicesmcappreciationweek]

Hello and be welcome to the Choices MC Appreciation Week of 2025! Years ago, user beaumontbash created this wonderful event where we had the opportunity to gush and show off about the wonderful and rich MCs in the fandom, and I have decided to bring back this awesome tradition!

Before I give you the prompts, here's some ground rules and things to have in mind during the event:

• You aren't obligated to post for every day! You can post any day you feel like

•The MC doesn't have to be yours

• OCs are welcome and encouraged!

•This event is MC-OC centric, and while a mention of LIs and other characters is welcome, please focus on the MCs

• Everything is welcome! From a screenshot of your MC and some fun facts, to meta and art and fanfiction!

• Posting about your friend/mutual's MCs is counted as an entry and highly encouraged!!!

• Be kind and respectful to one another. MC/OC and user bashing is extrictly prohibited

• Remember to have fun and don't be afraid to check the tag #choicesmcaw25 to see more OCs and MCs!

And now, onto the prompts...

Day One: Straight A+ Students

From The Elementalists, to Ride or Die, Roommates with Benefits, High School Story... Any MC who's a student, show them some love on this day!

Day Two: Terrific Heroes

From the It Lives Anthology, Terror Fest, Wake the Dead, Haunting of Braidwood Manor... Any MC who is involved in everything horror, today's your chance to show some love!

Day Three: Iconic Celebrities

From Platinum, Red Carpet Diaries, Hollywood U... Show some love to that MC that made it big!

Day Four: Awesome Adventurers

From Hero, to Endless Summer, to Blades of Light and Shadow, this is the day to show some love to those brave MCs!

Day Five: Nosy Detectives

From Veil of Secrets, Murder at Homecoming to Crimes of Passion, let us show some love to those MCs who always dig deeper

Day Six: Historic People

From Desire and Decorum to The Royal Masquerade to A Courtesan of Rome, today we show some love to those MCs who made history in the Choicesverse

Day Seven: LGBT+ and Proud

From All of Us, to Bachelorette Party, to Foreign Affairs... Any MC who is part of the community and didn't make an appearance on the other prompts, today's the day to show them off!

The event will be done on February, from the 3rd to the 9th! So start piling your MCs, dust off those WIPs and get ready!

Love,

noe aka @rosesnink

[choicesficwriterscreations]

Celebrate YOUR Top 5 Creations of 2024

It's that time of year again where CFWC give you a chance to highlight your most popular fanworks -- Fanfics, Edits and Fanart -- on Tumblr (by notes) and the ones near and dear to your heart even if they didn't get the love they deserved, aka...

YOUR:

Tumblr Top 5

Creator Top 5

How to Participate

Tumblr Top 5:

Go to JetBlackCode Note Counter, enter your blog name and run the scan to identify the top 5 original posts by Notes in 2024. If the top post is not a fanfic, edit or fanart, find the next one that is.

Create a post with a list of links to your Top 5 most popular fanfics, edits and/or fanart this year. Please mention the Choices book/series associated with the creation.

Creator Top 5:

Select your favorite top 5 creations from this year, the ones you're most proud of and the ones you want to show extra love. They could also be your most popular, but don't have to be. Want to highlight a series? Go for it. YOU decide!

Create a post with a list of links to your Creator Top 5 in 2024. Please mention the Choices book/series associated with the creation.

Then What?

Tag @choicesficwriterscreations on the posts and use the tag #cfwc top 5 2024

We will reblog your Tumblr Top 5 and your Creator Top 5 posts within 48 hours, and add them to an event masterlist.

Tumblr tags can be wonky, so if you don't see the reblog, send an ask to this blog with the links to your posts or DM @liaromancewriter.

The event runs from December 1 - 31, 2024. The event masterlist will be posted shortly after.

Signal boosts are appreciated!

[storyofmychoices]

Sleighing the Ugly Sweater Game This Season! 🦖🦄

I came across some adorable 3D ugly sweaters and felt these two were so perfect for Bryce and Olivia! Like how freaking cute are they!!! Baby Malia is probably in a little penguin onesie! They are the best most precious and I love them forever and ever!!! ❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚

This amazingly perfect and precious art is by the most wonderful @sazanes!

[Bryce Lahela x Olivia Hadley Masterlist] 

[rainesenator]

how ethanmc singlehandedly increase edenbrook admission rates tbh

[cariantha]

Sweet December

Book: Open Heart, Book 2 (post-attack) Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: General Category: Fluff, Christmas Word count: 1K Summary: Ethan eavesdrops on a conversation between Sawyer and her best friend. A/N: This fic was inspired by this Instagram reel and a little “Caption This” fun with a friend. It was meant to be an angsty fic, but then I listened to Sweet December by Brett Eldridge and Kelly Clarkson and changed directions. Merry Christmas!🎄

Events/Prompts: Participating in Winter Holidays 2024 hosted by @choicesholidays | Cuddling by the fireplace

With plans to spend their day off together, Ethan insisted that Sawyer come to his after her late-night shift at the hospital. The apartment was dark except for the glow of his bedside lamps, drawing attention away from the living room and the surprise he had set up for his girl. 

The tactic worked. An exhausted Sawyer entered the quiet apartment well after midnight and headed straight for the bedroom like a moth to the flame. After a quick kiss and a much-needed shower, she draped herself over Ethan’s body like a blanket and passed out within minutes. 

It was mid-morning when Sawyer padded into the kitchen, still a little groggy, with her phone pressed to her ear. Finding no evidence of Ethan's morning coffee, she assumed he was still at the gym, which was his usual weekend routine. 

“That sounds like so much fun. I’ve always wanted to visit New York during Christmas time…” Sawyer told the person on the other end of the line. “Maybe next year.”

When she put the phone on speaker so she could start the coffee, her best friend’s voice filled the room. 

“What about you? Are you going home to Arizona for Christmas?” Christian asked. 

“No. I love my family and know they are concerned, but they have been so overbearing that I’ve started dodging their calls,” she confessed. 

“Oof.” 

“I know,” Sawyer grimaced guiltily, “and I know they mean well, but I just need time to process things on my own. I can’t take any more time off, anyway. I just got back to work and need to catch up on my clinic hours. Besides, I’m looking forward to experiencing a Christmas like in the movies. You know, someplace cold enough that it snows, and you can cozy up by the fire and drink hot chocolate."

“Will you spend Christmas with Ethan, then?”   

From the living room, Ethan watched as Sawyer shrugged her shoulders. He’d been listening to their conversation while he lounged in front of the fireplace, waiting for her to turn around and notice him. 

"I don't want to assume, but I hope so," Sawyer answered softly, then sighed deeply. "God, Christian, I know it sounds so corny, but when I start feeling all upside down, he turns me right around."

"Awww..."

Ethan continued to watch and listen as she tinkered with the coffee machine. 

"We’re both working on Christmas, but a wintery night cuddling by the fire like we had at Dagger Mountain would be amazing. As for anything else, I think Ethan’s more the ‘spirit of Christmas’ type than the ‘holiday spirit’ type. Last year, when I came over to help with Naveen's case, I brought him one of those potted tabletop trees from the hospital gift shop because he didn't have a tree or a wreath or anything. It made me sad for him."  

Ethan raised his brows in surprise, then looked to the corner of the room where, the night before, he set a five-foot balsam fir into a tree stand. Boxes of ornaments and garland that the doorman helped carry into the apartment sat on the floor nearby.  

Christian chuckled. “You sound like Cindy Lou Who talking about the Grinch. Girl, he's been a bachelor for a long time. Guys don't care about that shit. Sam wouldn't bother either if it weren't for the boys."

"Yeah, I guess you’re right." 

A loud pop from the living room made Sawyer jump. She quickly spun around to find Ethan reclined in front of the fireplace. Christian’s voice faded into the background as Sawyer's senses awakened with the warmth of the roaring fire. The smell of fresh pine needles. The twinkling of white lights in the corner. The soft crooning of Bing Crosby’s “Silver Bells.” The taste of creamy chocolate and peppermint from the cup that Ethan walked over and offered her. 

“Sawyer? Hellooo… did I lose you?” 

Reaching for her phone, she apologized to her friend. “Sorry about that, um, Ethan just surprised me… Can I call you back later?” 

“Of course! I should go anyway. I think Sam and the boys are ready to leave for the ice rink.”

“Have fun and send me pics. Love you.”

“Love you, too, babe.”

Sawyer ended the call and set her phone aside. “Hi,” she greeted, standing on her tiptoes. 

“Morning,” Ethan answered, bending down to meet her halfway for a tender kiss. 

Gesturing to the living room, “What’s all this?”

“Since you're not going home for Christmas, I thought we could celebrate together. Here.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” he confirmed with a peck to her lips.

“I’d love that...” she blushed with embarrassment, “as you probably heard.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked at the glowing tree. “You bought a real tree?”

“Given your family’s Christmas tree business, I knew anything else would be considered sacrilege.”

She smiled up at him. “You remembered that?” 

“When it comes to you, I remember everything.”

Pressing herself tighter against him, Sawyer rested her cheek on his chest. “It’s so cozy in here. And look! It’s snowing outside.” Sawyer moved to sit on the sofa, tugging the sleeve of Ethan’s robe to get him to follow. “Come cuddle with me.”

Ethan sat, draping an arm over her shoulder, tucking her into his side. But just as they got comfortable, Ethan moved to stand up. 

“Where are you going?”

“I forgot,” he started, “I bought one of those big fluffy blankets you said I needed for cuddling on the couch. It’s in the hall closet.”

Sawyer smiled so big. “You are so sweet sometimes.”

“Sweet?! Uh-oh, my reputation for being a Grinch is in jeopardy.”

Reminded again that he heard every word of her conversation, she scowled at him. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s rude to eavesdrop? You could have cleared your throat or something.”

Ethan winked, letting her know there was nothing to worry about. “Let me grab the blanket.”

“No,” she demanded, catching his hand before he walked away. Lying back, she pulled him down and on top of her. “A blanket’s good, but you’re even better.”

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @peonierose  @potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction 

@jerzwriter @queencarb @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @jamespotterthefirst 

@liaromancewriter @tveitertotwrites @tessa-liam @youlookappropriate @kyra75

@socalwriterbee @txemrn @midnightmelodiz @snoopdogcone

@rafasgirl23415

[jamespotterthefirst]

Reactions Over Text (Ethan x F!MC)

In which Ethan drops BIG news to Sienna over text message. (Text Mesage Edit)

Text exchange between Sienna Trinh (grey) and Ethan Ramsey (blue)

(15 seconds later)

Author's note: Get ready for the most thoroughly planned out proposal plan, Dr. R.

Ah, I missed this! I've been a bad, bad writer but it's only because I've been a good, good working adult (😭). Thank you if you read the whole thing!

[veatomis]

made a tiny character sheet for my open heart mc <3

[garashir]

who could have forseen this

[choicescommunityevents]

Choices Book Bingo Event

Hi everyone! It's @peonyblossom here with a super fun fall event, Choices Book Bingo (fall edition) :D

Rules

Check off a box by completing a Choices book that fits the prompt (current releases can count, as long as you're caught up on the book by the time the event ends, even if the book hasn't finished releasing)

Any book is fair game, but each book can only be used once

The event will run from September 1 - November 30

You can share bingo boards as you check off boxes, or you can wait until you have bingo to do so

I will reblog any bingo boards shared, but if it becomes too much I will switch to only reblogging boards with bingos

Tag @choicescommunityevents and/or @peonyblossom to submit

You can also use #ChoicesBookBingoFall24

If you have questions about any of the prompts, feel free to comment on this post or send an ask to @peonyblossom

[jerzwriter]

Thanks for this ask - I'll be making a series of little drabbles to see what Tobias does with the pumpkin pie throughout different periods of his life (and in some different worlds, too!) I hope you enjoy it as much as Tobias (and I) love pumpkin pie!

Book: Open Heart (pre-series) Characters: Tobias Carrick (child), Charles x Vivian Carrick Rating: General Words: 911 Summary: It's Thanksgiving, and 6-year-old Tobias wishes the guests would go home so he could get comfy and dig into his favorite treat. When it seems like that will never happen, he jumps on an opportunity to make his dream come true.

A/N: Participating in @choicesholidays Winter Event - "You did what with the pumpkin pie?" and @choicesdecember2024 - Sweets

Thanksgiving Day at the Carrick’s Georgetown townhome was always an elegant affair, and this year was no exception. The house was abuzz with activity as the scents of cinnamon, nutmeg, and roast turkey wafted through the air. While the grown-ups were content, enjoying some laughs and conversation, six-year-old Tobias's patience was running thin.

He was still sitting patiently in his chair, but his swinging legs indicated that wouldn't be the case much longer. His patent leather shoes made a squeaking sound every time they rubbed together and, on a typical day, this would have driven his mother, Vivian, nuts, but today, she was too busy to notice at first...

“Tobias!” She finally shouted over her shoulder. “Stop fidgeting.”

“But, Mom!” he whined, tugging at the tie of his tiny suit. “You said I could change after dinner, and dinner was a long time ago.”

Vivian scrunched down beside him. “I know, dear, but dessert hasn’t been served yet. I promise you can change out of your suit as soon as we eat dessert.”

Dessert.

Just the thought of it brought a smile to his face. He looked forward to Thanksgiving dessert all year, especially the pumpkin pie and he didn't think it was fair that he had to wait any longer.

His father, Charles, entered the room, laughing heartily at a joke his brother Phillip had just told. Charles was in his element, playing the gracious host, but when he caught sight of a dejected Tobias, he raised a brow.

“What’s the matter, son?” He asked. “You’re not your usual happy self.”

Tobias crossed his arms, a frown spreading across his pudgy little face. “I’m tired of being in a suit, Daddy! I want pie, and I want comfy clothes!”

Charles chuckled softly. “Well, you’ll have both of those things very soon,” he assured.

“But it’s taking forever!” Tobias groaned.

Before Charles had a chance to answer, a loud noise came from the kitchen, and Scout, the family’s golden retriever puppy, came rushing into the dining room with Mrs. Johnson, the family's cook, in hot pursuit. The puppy, had Mrs. Johnson's favorite spatula clamped in its mouth and wagged its tail in triumph.

“Scout! Get back here! You little thief!” she yelled.

Unaware of any wrongdoing, Scout continued to circle the room with glee, amusing the grown-ups. That's when a lightbulb went off in Tobias’s head. Even at his tender age, he knew an opportunity when it was presented, and he wasn’t about to let this one go.

With his parents under the table trying to retrieve the spatula from Scout, he slipped off his chair, grinning as he rushed to the sideboard. He licked his lips, staring at the golden pie. Victory was about to be his!

He reached up and grabbed the edge of the crystal cake stand, tugging it closer to the edge when the pie began to wobble precariously, but Tobias steadied it, his heart pounding as he grabbed a fork and dug in.

He was in heaven. The smile on his face growing as he shoveled the sweet, creamy treat into his mouth. A happy sigh of relief escaped him, and his earlier frustration now gone. But his momentary bliss came screeching to an end when...

“Tobias!” his mother's voice echoed through the room. Startled, Tobias jumped up, his elbow plowing into the cake stand, sending the pie tumbling to the floor with a wet splat. Scout came running and made a valiant attempt to lunge for it, but Tobias grabbed her just in time.

“No, Scout!” he cried. “Dogs can’t eat pumpkin pie!”

“No, they shouldn’t,” Mrs. Johnson scolded. “But little boys shouldn’t eat it before they’re told to either.”

Vivian stood there, her mouth hanging open. Charles and the rest of the family stood behind her, peering in amusement.

“Tobias Charles Carrick!” Vivian hollered. “What on earth have you done?”

“I—I just wanted a bite!” he stammered, his bright blue eyes pleading for forgiveness. “I've been waiting a really long time, Mom.”

Vivian pressed a hand to her temple, her patience wearing thin. Charles stepped forward, crouching beside his son to survey the pumpkin pie carnage.

“Well,” he said, tapping his son’s shoulder. “At least he’s got good taste.”

Vivian shot her husband a look. “Charles! This isn’t the time!”

But little Tobias tugged his mother’s hand, tears brimming in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Mom. I just really, really wanted pie…”

Vivian couldn’t help but smile. “I know, sweetheart. But you can’t just take things because you’re impatient. Dessert is meant to be shared, not sneaked, and it’s certainly not meant to be splattered on the floor.”

Tobias nodded. “I know. I won’t do it again, Mommy. I promise.”

Vivian gave him a big hug. “Alright. Let’s clean this up, and I’ll see if there’s another pie in the kitchen.”

Tobias’s face lit up. “Really?”

“Really!” Vivian replied, ruffling his hair. “But why don’t you go up to your room and put on your jammies first. I think you've suffered enough.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. “All right!” he hollered, rushing down the hall and shedding his suit, piece by piece along the way with Scout yapping behind him.

Charles wrapped his arm around his wife as they watched their son’s impromptu striptease from a distance.

“That boy is going to drive us crazy when he’s in college,” he laughed.

Vivian looked up at her husband quizzically. “In college?” She questioned. “He’s driving us crazy right now!”

“Yes, he is,” Charles laughed, placing a kiss on Vivian's head. “But we wouldn’t have it any other way.”  

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[liaromancewriter]

Favorite Ex

Premise: Ethan runs into an old flame, and it brings some much-needed closure for both of them.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Angst. Words: 1,570

A/N: Submission for @choicesmonthlychallengenov2024 prompt day 26: "regret" and @choicesprompts Angstgiving prompt "what could have been"

Ethan Ramsey needed a drink.

The annual National Medical Symposium in Miami, with its focus on cutting-edge medical advancements, had been interesting enough. Still, the obsequious flattery that went hand in hand with his increasingly rare visits to medical conferences got on his nerves. He couldn’t care less about what others wanted from him, but after all these years, he knew how to play the game.

Naveen would joke that with age, he’d gained maturity and wisdom. His wife would just snort and proceed to tease him about getting soft until he took her to bed just to prove her wrong.

She pushed him out of his comfort zone. And for her, he was willing to embrace the unknown.

A few years ago, he hadn’t been so… flexible. He reflected absently, walking into the busy hotel bar and scanning the room for an empty seat.

Or as willing to admit that he needed someone to come home to. Someone who understood him and filled the empty holes in his heart. He couldn’t deny it anymore, not even to himself.

Seeing a patron settle his tab and leave, he rushed to grab the padded bar stool. His shoulders dropped at the thought of sipping smooth whiskey while decompressing by exchanging sexy texts with his wife.

Should’ve insisted she accompany me, Ethan thought wearily, raking one hand through his hair.

He placed his phone on the bar, smiling as he often did at the sight of their wedding picture on the screen. He traced one finger down her laughing face, the photo a reminder of the moment she'd insisted he smile—really smile—for once.

He wondered when he’d become such a sap. Maybe she was right, and he was getting soft in his forties.

“What’ll be, sir?” The bartender asked hurriedly.

“Whiskey, neat.”

Ethan froze at the familiar voice behind him. He hadn’t heard it in years, but he’d know it in a dark room with his eyes closed.

Surprise had him swiveling on the stool to face her. Sparkling green eyes met shocked blue ones.

The years fell away as if no time had passed since that fateful night at Donahue’s when she’d correctly guessed his drink order on her first day as an intern at Boston’s Edenbrook Hospital.

“And don’t be stingy,” Dr. Cassie Valentine said, a smile tugging at her lips. “Judging by the look of him, it’s been a three-finger kind of day.”

“Hello, Dr. Ramsey.”

Ethan opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat, refusing to come. He inclined his head in greeting instead, a poor acknowledgment of the woman who’d been the first to breach through his walls.

The one who’d made him break all his rules and not give a damn about the consequences.

His mind flooded with memories. The quiet intimacy of watching the snow fall outside as they cuddled after making love. The warmth of holding hands on their way to Derry’s for coffee and a stolen moment of peace. The thrill of sneaking glances across the diagnostic team’s office despite their resolve to keep things strictly professional at work.

If it hadn’t been for his temporary but all-consuming love affair with Cassie, would he have even given Joanna a chance?

Ethan hoped the answer was yes. He loved his wife, and it would be an incredible disservice to what they meant to each other for him to believe otherwise.

“Still a man of few words, I see,” Cassie teased as she slid into the empty seat beside him, resting her chin lightly on her hand.

“You know me well,” he said gruffly, swallowing the lump that had lodged in his throat.

“I thought I did,” Cassie cooly inclined her head, but the laughter in her eyes betrayed her. “I still can’t believe you’re here. Remember when we attended this conference when I was an intern?” She giggled. “You hated every minute of it and weren’t exactly shy about saying so.”

Ethan hunched his shoulders. “I wasn’t that bad.”

He had a very different memory of that time. It had nothing to do with the symposium and everything to do with a moonlit balcony and his morals drowning in the heady scent of her perfume.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, you were!”

The bartender returned with his drink, setting the lone glass in front of Ethan. The man looked questioningly at Cassie, but she shook her head.

“Not in the mood?” Ethan asked as he lifted his glass.

“Can’t,” she said, placing one hand on her belly.

Ethan stilled, a mix of complicated emotions he didn’t dare examine too closely surging through him.

Whenever he thought of Cassie, which wasn’t as often now as it had been in those early years, he still saw the resident who worked side by side with him during the day and slept in his bed at night.

The one he’d fallen in love with but could never confess the words to because there was a timer on their relationship. When her residency ended, she’d move on, ready to conquer the medical world with her amazing diagnostics instincts. And he’d be left behind. Again.

So, he’d held back and let the words fade into the ether.

It had been for the best, Ethan reasoned. Her eventual departure hadn’t lessened the hurt, but it had been cleaner.

He hadn’t been looking for love again, but one day, he bumped into a red-haired chef at the farmer’s market, and his life tilted on its axis. Literally, in this case, since he found himself falling to the ground and grabbing her on his way down.

So, he burned his dreams of what couldn’t be and allowed himself to believe in a new and permanent love.

In the last few years, he’d heard of Cassie’s accomplishments; her groundbreaking research, the accolades that followed. The diagnostic medical community was small, after all. He’d felt pride at seeing her star rise, convincing himself that was all it was. Just pride. Nothing more.

Until now.

“Congratulations,” he said softly, the word heavier than it should have been.

He forced a smile, willing himself to ignore the ache that stirred, a reminder of what could never be. He had made peace with it. Or so he thought. Yet here she was, and peace felt like a lie.

“Thanks,” Cassie said with a wistful smile. “I’m still in my first trimester, so we’re keeping it on the DL.”

She tilted her head, her gaze dropping briefly to the wedding ring on his left hand. “You’re married?”

“Yes. Two years next month.”

A silence fell between them—heavy, unfamiliar, and uncomfortably awkward. The rowdy laughter of a group of physicians erupted nearby, breaking through the tension like an unwelcome intrusion.

Cassie glanced toward the noise, her lips twitching into a faint, distracted smile before her gaze returned to him.

Ethan fought to keep his gaze steady, trying and failing to ignore the curve of her lips or the way her stylish blonde hair framed her timeless features. He remembered its softness against his skin as she nestled against him before drifting off to sleep, their hands still touching when they woke the next morning.

Joanna wasn’t into cuddling. She was often too tired after a long night at the restaurant and preferred sleeping on her side, her back to him.

Until this moment, Ethan had forgotten he enjoyed the intimacy of a lover wrapped around him. Cassie had once called him a world-class snuggler, and he’d cherished the title as if he’d won a Nobel Prize.

They had been happy. So, why couldn’t they make it work?

“Are you happy?” she asked eerily, picking up on his ambivalence.

He wanted to say yes. He was happy. Hadn’t he been reflecting on just how much a mere ten minutes ago? So, why was he hesitating?

Shame spiraled through him. He adored Joanna, and he loved their life together.

And yet, a part of him still wondered about the road not taken. Maybe it was time he stopped.

He drew in a long breath. “What happened to us?”

Cassie slid him a guarded look. Her fingers curled and uncurled in her lap.

Ethan didn’t think she’d respond and opened his mouth to take the words back.

“You never asked me to stay.”

He sat back, poleaxed.

“We went from gold rush to cold touch,” Cassie said, sadness clouding her features. “As my residency was ending, I could feel you slowly pulling away from me. And still, I waited for any word from you, something to give me hope that we had a future together.”

Ethan could hardly move, let alone speak at the confession.

“You were my best nights and my worst. I cried myself for weeks after, and then I let us go.”

Cassie slid off the stool and smoothed down her dress. “I’m glad I ran into you. I’ve wanted to say these words to you for the longest time but never had the courage.”

Her eyes softened as she took a step back. “You will always be my favorite ex. Goodbye, Ethan.”

And then she was gone, her scent lingering until that, too, was an ephemeral memory.

“And you will always be mine,” he uttered silently, reaching for the phone and the one he had chosen to be his forevermore.

He and Cassie were finally where they belonged. In the past.

----------------------

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @justyourusualash

@lady-calypso @kyra75 @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect

@queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @snoopdogcone @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

@thosehallowedhalls

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate