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snoopdogcone · 6 days ago

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Absolutely hilarious and charming! I loved the banter, the heart underneath the humor, and the whole crew.

Boys Will Be Boys

Brothers-in-Arms Series - Chapter 2

Choices Books: The Royal Romance, pre-book 1 (cross-over with Choices, Crimes of Passion, pre-book 1)

Pairing: None

Characters: Liam Rys, Drake Walker, Maxwell Beaumont, Leo Rys, Olivia Nevrakis, Eleanor Rys, Trystan Thorne

Rating: Teen

Warning: swearing, alcohol/drug use

Category: angst/fluff, alternate universe

Words: 1200, not Beta’d, please excuse all errors

Brothers-in-Arms Masterlist

A/N: My submission for #choices bejeweled, June monthly challenge 2025

Summary: Liam, Drake, Maxwell, Leo, and Trystan are at the Royal Mountain Retreat in the Blackspine Mountains of Cordonia. The firepit is crackling, s'mores are toasting , and ... the discussion turns to ???

Trystan snorted like he’d just heard the dumbest thing in royal history. “Wait, you didn’t even kiss her?”

“No, Sherlock.”

Trystan looked at him like he’d just confessed to a crime. “Are you broken?”

Leo sighed dramatically, running his fingers through hair. “It just didn’t feel right.”

“What does that even mean? Did she have spinach in her teeth? Were you under surveillance by your dead relative?”

Leo groaned. “I mean emotionally, you emotionally stunted goat. I actually want to get to know her first.”

Trystan blinked. “Since when do you feel things?”

Leo glanced at Liam and the middle-school brigade (aka Liam, Drake, and Maxwell), who were busy arguing over whether dragons or space pirates would win in a fight.

“Let’s move this convo. I can’t have my twelve-year-old brother psychoanalyzing me again.”

They walked quickly to the lake, not forgetting their beers, and flopped onto a bench.

Trystan: “So, spill. You like her, but you didn’t kiss her because... you have morals now?”

Leo: “I just want it to mean something. She’s not like the girls who throw themselves at every bloody event.”

Trystan smirked. “Let me guess. It’s because of Madeleine.”

Leo punched him—not hard - but with enough force to make a statement.

“Ow! Dude! I need that arm for fencing and styling my hair!”

Leo grinned. “Would you prefer a push into the lake? It’s about six degrees Celsius in there.”

Trystan massaged his arm, still offended. “You Cordonians are violent.”

Leo wiggled his eyebrows. “Okay, enough about me. Spill it—who’s your secret admirer?”

Trystan sighed dramatically. “Her name’s Julianna. We’ve been friends for years, but lately… she’s gotten… interesting.”

Leo looked amused. “Like, ‘I suddenly noticed she’s 'hot’ interesting, or ‘she no longer chews with her mouth open’ interesting?”

Trystan laughed. “Both. She’s shy, which is weirdly adorable. Like a kitten that punches you in the heart.”

Leo smirked. “That doesn’t sound like your type. You usually like the loud, terrifying ones.”

“I know! But I want to take care of her, you know? Like... be the guy who shows her how to have fun.”

Leo gave a smug grin. “Oh, I bet you want to show her lots of fun.”

Trystan punched him back. “Don’t make me drown you, Romeo.”

Leo: “So? Is it happening? Are you two gonna ride off into the hormonal sunset?”

Trystan: “Maybe. Depends on what she wants. I’ve waited this long. I can wait a little longer.”

Leo: “Patience. How royal of you.”

They headed back to the firepit, where Liam, Drake, and Maxwell were still deep in their existential debate.

Leo: “You guys ready to head to the cottage? It’s past your royal bedtimes.”

Liam, brushing dirt off his pants and stood up, “Yeah. I gotta prep for tomorrow.”

As Liam walked off, Maxwell leaned in to Drake. “Hey, Li never answered your question.”

“Yeah, and now he’s gone, and I still don’t know what happened to the crown!” Drake looked agitated.

Maxwell grinned wickedly. “Dude. You seriously don’t remember?”

Drake looked like he was already regretting his life choices. “No. Should I?”

Maxwell burst into laughter, trying to suppress it and failing spectacularly. He collapsed onto the ground in a heap of giggles.

Drake groaned. “Why do you always do this? Can’t you just tell me what happened?”

Maxwell tried to look innocent. “What? You mean now?”

“Yes, now!”

Maxwell shrugged. “Nah. It’s more fun this way.”

Drake stomped off. “I hate you.”

“Love you too, buddy!” Maxwell called after him, still giggling.

Inside the Cottage – Later That Night

The royal mountain cottage was rustic-chic mixed with royal finery —stone fireplace crackling, oversized velvet couches, and expensive portraits and accessories.

Leo flopped dramatically onto a couch, nearly knocking over a tray of imported herbal teas. Trystan settled into the armchair with a grunt and a handful of shortbread cookies, which he had clearly stolen from a diplomatic gift basket.

“I’m serious,” Leo said suddenly, turning to him with a look that was one part scheming and two parts big-brother mischief. “Next time we’re in Paris… I’m going to make a man out of Liam.”

Trystan choked on his cookie. “What?!” he coughed. “What does that even mean? You’re not sending him to the Foreign Legion!”

Leo grinned. “No! I mean, like… take him out. Show him the world. Teach him the arts of charm, confidence, maybe get him a nice haircut that doesn’t look like it was done with a medieval sword.”

Trystan raised an eyebrow. “So… your plan is to drag a twelve-year-old around Paris and sprinkle him with cologne until women swoon?”

Leo shrugged. “Exactly.”

“Leo, you do realize Paris is full of croissants and chaos. Liam’s idea of a good time is still building Lego castles and quoting Star Wars.”

“Which is exactly why he needs me. Paris will change him.”

“Into what? A pretentious art critic with a beret and a heartbreak playlist?”

Leo leaned back smugly. “Into a gentleman. A Casanova. A future king who knows how to hold a wine glass and a conversation.”

Trystan shook his head, laughing. “You’re unbelievable.”

Leo wagged a finger. “Unbelievably effective.”

"Wait ... wait ... a future king? Trystan looks at Leo.

Just then, a loud thud echoed from upstairs, followed by Maxwell’s voice yelling, “Drake! I swear if you farted in my room again, I will smother you with a decorative pillow!”

Trystan looked toward the ceiling. “Yeah. Definitely ready for Paris.”

Leo grinned. “Not those two, just my Prince Mini-Me.”

☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆

☆ @choicesficwriterscreations

☆ @choicesmonthlychallenge

☆ @choicescommunityevents

● my perma-tags: @beau1811 @bascmve01 @twinkleallnight @dutifullynuttywitch @lovingchoices14 @alj4890 @busywoman @bardic-tales @kingliam2019 @malblk21 @delmissesryanandcassi @selina012 @differenttyphoonwerewolf

●Brothers-in-Arms @walkerdrakewalker

#royal romance #read

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snoopdogcone · 6 days ago

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I loved MOTY and I love this! ❤️❤️❤️

Happy Father's Day, Levi! ❤️

To the best bonus dad ever!

#mother of the year #art

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snoopdogcone · 6 days ago

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I love this! The art!!! 😍😍😍😍😍 The fiction is just adorable also! I miss your Bryce stories!

Pretty in Pink: Happy Father's Day, Bryce! 💖

[Bryce Lahela x Olivia Hadley Masterlist]

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x Olivia Hadley (F!OC) with Malia Lahela Book: Open Heart Word Count: ~400 Rating/Warnings: General, fluffy fluff A/N: Art by the amazing artbyainna (IG)

The corners of the picnic blanket flapped with the light breeze. Crumbs from their sandwiches and snacks were scattered across the fabric. Malia's empty juice box had tipped when she wobbled off trying to catch a butterfly. Drops of condensation trickled down the pitcher of lemonade as the sun warmed the air around them. Their backyard Father's Day picnic had been an overwhelming success.

Malia toddled barefoot through the grass, her pink sundress fluttering around her as she moved with carefree joy. Her soft laughter filled the space with the most beautiful song. Malia brought him so much joy, not just today on Father's Day but every day. She had been the greatest gift he didn't know he needed. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do to protect her.

The skin around his eyes pulled into tender lines as he followed her movements. The smile on his face couldn’t capture even a fraction of what he felt inside.

"Come here, my little gigglebug," Bryce teased, scooping Malia into his arms, which earned him another fit of laughter from his daughter. He kissed her all over as she wiggled with glee, happy with his attention.

"She has you wrapped around her little fingers," Olivia offered with a smile of adoration. She couldn't have been happier with the family they had created. Malia was a daddy's girl through and through and Bryce loved every second of it.

"I can't imagine a better place to be." Bryce twirled with Malia in his arms. The sunlight shimmered in the fine strands of red in her hair that reminded him of her beautiful mother.

She was magnificent.

She was beautiful.

She was the best part of him.

And she had made him a father, a title he was carried with pride.

"I wuv Dada," Malia cheered, wrapping her little arms around his neck. She pressed a wet, messy kiss on his cheek.

"I love you too, Malia." Bryce cradled his daughter in his arms, savoring the moment. She had grown so much in the past almost two years. He wished he could slow time down, but knew they had to live in the moment or else they might miss something. And with her, he didn't want to miss a thing...not one little thing.

Olivia shifted closer to where Bryce was holding Malia, still kissing her softly. "Happy Father's Day, Bryce. We love you."

Thanks for reading! Interactions are appreciated! 💛

#open heart #art #read

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snoopdogcone · 6 days ago

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I am always delighted when I get to spend time with my favorite family. Please, let Tobias go shirtless as much as possible. 😂😂 I love Samantha, Brooke, and their antics so much! An apendectomy on Pietro! 😂😂😂 Oh, they are pips!

PS I didn't get a tag for this one. :( I would hate to miss it.

A/N: Day 25's prompt in @creativepromptsforwriting 30-Day Writing Challenge is to write a scene that describes your MC well. I decided to go with Casey after she and Tobias had their third daughter. I hope I caught her essence!

Book: Open Heart (Post Series) Pairing: Tobias x Casey Carrick (F!MC) Featuring: The Carrick Girls, Pietro the Cat (mentioned) Rating: Teen Words: 877 Summary: A chaotic family morning has Casey wondering if she has things under control (for the record - she does!)

30-Day Challenge Masterlist | Full Masterlist

Casey stood in the kitchen, wearing fuzzy pink socks and Tobias’s old Howard sweatshirt. She had a spatula in one hand and a sleepy Kayla perched on her hip. The cup of coffee she had been dying to drink a half-hour before sat cold on the counter.

“Mommy!” Brooke yelled, running in from the living room. “Sammy won’t let me be the veterinarian! She says I have to be the dog – AGAIN!”

Casey crouched down to Brooke’s level, brushing a hand through her messy curls. “You know what, hon? Give her one of your stuffed animals to play the dog. Then, tell her you’re playing a representative from the Veterinary Medical Board – there to inspect her clinic. Then - find every violation you can. She’ll have to pay you a hefty fine before she can practice again.”

Brooke’s eyes lit up with glee. “I know just the stuffed animal!” She squeaked, running down the hallway. “I’m going to put you out of business, Sammy!”

Amused, Tobias popped into the kitchen from the hallway. “Is this what you’re teaching our daughters,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around Casey from behind.

“Hey, they’re growing up in this house – it’s survival of the fittest.”

He stepped in front of her to scoop Kayla from her arms—distracting her entirely when she realized he was shirtless.

“Jesus, Tobias,” she muttered, tossing a T-shirt from the freshly folded laundry pile at him. “Would you please cover up?”

“Why?” he laughed, catching the shirt but not putting it on. “I had a vasectomy, babe. No more of these,” he jiggled Kayla gently, “for us.”

“Mmmh,” Casey hummed. “But if we’re going to have pancakes before dinner – I don’t need any distractions!”

“I thought you said pancakes were being served at nine a.m. sharp,” he teased, ignoring her “do not distract” plea and kissing her shoulder.

“I did,” she huffed. “But your daughter decided she had to be surgically attached to my hip. And I had to stop your other daughters from performing an emergency appendectomy on poor Pietro.”

“That’s my girls,” he grinned. “But honestly? You should’ve let them go for it. I’d have put twenty bucks on the cat.”

Casey rolled her eyes affectionately and turned back to the stove—just in time to see a pancake blacken around the edges. She turned off the burner with a sigh and collapsed into a kitchen chair.

“That’s it,” she groaned. “I give up. I used to save lives and look damn good doing it before eight a.m. Now I burn breakfast, barely protect the cat from superfluous surgery, and can’t even remember if I last showered yesterday… or the day before.”

Tobias laughed and placed Kayla in her bouncy chair, then he eagerly took his wife in his arms. “I don’t know, Dr. Carrick,” he said softly, brushing her hair aside to kiss the curve of her neck. “I think you’re doing your best work yet. And looking damn good doing it.”

She was smiling but still about to argue when she glanced into the family room and saw Brooke wagging a finger at Sammy, insisting her clinic was being shut down for giving dogs Hershey’s Kisses as treats. Kayla babbled from her bouncer, kicking her feet in contentment. And Tobias—mercifully—hadn’t taken her advice and was still shirtless.

“You know,” she said, sliding her arms around his neck, “you’re right. I think I am. And… I did shower before bed last night.”

“You did,” he nodded solemnly, then leaned close. “But if you’re interested, I can ask my mom to take the rugrats off our hands later—and give you a good reason to need another one.”

Casey raised an eyebrow, still in his arms. “Hmm. Would you shower with me?”

“Is that even a question?”

“And would you take all of us to the diner for pancakes first? Because clearly, that’s not happening here.”

His face lit up. “If I do… is that a yes?”

“Oh, hell yeah,” she beamed.

“Girls!” Tobias yelled. “Stop torturing the cat and go get dressed! We’re going to the diner for pancakes!”

“Can we have milkshakes, too?” Brooke yelled.

“No-” Casey began, just as Tobias answered, “YES! Now go get dressed!”

They listened to the thunder of little feet stampeding toward their rooms, and then Casey kissed him– not a tender kiss that belonged in the kitchen – a kiss that was a promise of things to come.

“Damn, baby,” he breathed. “Is that just because I’m taking us out to breakfast?”

“Nope,” she smirked. “That was a preview for later.”

And then, as if on cue, Brooke appeared wearing a sparkly princess dress over her pajamas; Sammy screamed that she couldn’t find her purple shoes, and Kayla began to wail in protest from the bouncer.

Casey pulled away, already grabbing a brush and putting it through her hair. “Okay, troops - let’s get a move on. We have ten minutes to get out of here – starting – NOW!”

Tobias began corralling their daughters. “You heard the boss! We’ve got ten minutes – let’s go!”

As they all exploded into motion, Casey smiled at Tobias over the chaos. “And, babe? Don’t forget to put on a shirt this time.”

He winked, disappearing up the stairs. “No promises.”

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#open heart #read

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snoopdogcone · 6 days ago

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Everything reminds me of him (Ethan) 😔🥲

#open heart

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snoopdogcone · 6 days ago

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OUCH! This was both sad and beautiful.

“You don’t have to fix it, Casey. You don’t fix the ocean,” he smiled, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. “You just learn to swim in it. We can learn to swim together. I know we can.”

This is indeed true, and we can observe this in all relationships. It is about choosing each other over and over again. It makes me sad to see a favorite ship suffer, but it is nice to see how they come together. Well done.

A/N: Day 26's prompt in @creativepromptsforwriting 30-Day Writing Challenge is to write a story with the title Like Waves in the Ocean. @coffeeheartaddict2 had sent a request to write this for Tobias & Casey, and - admittedly - I was stumped! I hope you like the outcome, Tash - I went a little angsty!

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Tobias Carrick x Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 732 Summary: Tobias & Casey share a relationship defining moment by the sea.

Also participating in @choicesmonthlychallenge, prompts: ocean, sun, love, and pink, and @monthlywritingchallenges Just One June prompt: One Last Try.

30-Day Challenge Masterlist | Full Masterlist

Casey sat quietly on the shore, arms wrapped tightly around her knees as she watched the tide roll in. The sky was beginning to fade into pale shades of pink over the Atlantic as the day drew to a close. She tucked her hands into the sleeves of her old NYU sweatshirt as the wind picked up - the great disruptor, tugging relentlessly at her hair, stirring the sand and tangling everything around her until the world felt just like she did inside: unsettled, unmoored, uncertain of what would come next.

She didn’t turn when Tobias made his way down the dune behind her, only shifting slightly to make room when he settled beside her on the sand. He didn’t speak at first – neither of them did – letting the waves and occasional call from a gull overhead provide the soundtrack for a long while. At another time, it might have been soothing, but today, they felt like the outro to a song they never wanted to end.

Tobias finally gathered the courage to speak. “I had a feeling I’d find you here. You always come here when you want everything to disappear.”

“I don’t want everything to disappear,” she said softly. “I just needed space to breathe.”

He nodded. “I get that. Breathing is easier here.”

She glanced at him – barefoot, his shirt sleeves pushed up to his elbows, the ocean light softening his features and making his crystal blue eyes appear even more ethereal – if that was even possible. He looked just like the man she fell in love with... the man she still loved with all her soul. But things had changed; sometimes, she didn’t even recognize them anymore.

It had started subtly, then everything seemed to crash down at once. Stupid fights that seemed to start over nothing at all, always ending with slammed doors and tears. They said things neither wanted to say - things they didn't mean. But they said them anyway – too many times to count.

Her toes curled into the sand when she whispered. “What happened to us, Tobias? How... how did we end up here?”

He didn’t answer right away, staring out at the waves like they held answers he had been longing to find.

“I think we let the current carry us too far out to sea. We just kept drifting, letting it pull us apart without stopping to check that we were still holding hands.”

She felt a lump form in her throat, hot tears sprang to her eyes. “Do you want to find your way back?” she asked nervously. “Do you want to find your way back... to me?”

“Casey,” he sighed, heart aching. “I don’t have to come back. I know things haven't been easy, but don’t you see - I never left you. I never would..”

She turned to him, her heart skipping when she saw a single tear trailing down his cheek. She reached for his hand without hesitation. This was the man she loved – and she knew he loved her in return – but was love still enough?

“I don’t know how to fix us anymore,” she confessed. “I don’t know how to get back to who we were before.”

A smile tugged at her lips. “That might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He let out a gentle sigh, a half smile on his lips – he was almost afraid to hope. “It’s just one of my many talents."

She leaned into his side, her head resting on his shoulder as it had a thousand times before. His arm encircled her, and she nearly cried. Here, in his arms, this was her home.

“I miss us,” she croaked. "I miss us so much."

“Hey! We’re still here.” He placed a kiss on top of her head. “We just have to swim a little stronger- hold on to each other a little tighter. But I have no doubt that we can do it. We’ll reach the shore, baby. You and me? We’ll reach the shore – together.”

Casey couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when it happened, but that didn’t seem to matter. As the two of them sat beneath the setting sun, with the salt air filling their lungs and the waves lapping around them, she felt it coming to life again - the moment she began to believe again.

In the end, they both knew - they were invincible.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#open heart #read

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snoopdogcone · 6 days ago

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Oh, I have missed your Wake the Dead fics. This was precious. I love it when they have a moment of levity in their sad existence. Will you expand on Eli, Zoe & Troy one day? I love Eli x Zoe, but I'd enjoy learning how the three of them came to be a throuple. I loved this, El!

A/N: Day 24's prompt in @creativepromptsforwriting 30-Day Writing Challenge is to write a story using the words: crown, dance, and smile. I decided to write something for my Eli x Zoe x Troy headcanon from Wake the Dead—a triad I've been wanting to explore more for a while now. I hope you enjoy this short story!

Book: Wake the Dead, Pixelberry Choices Pairing: Eli Sipes x Zoe Rivera (MC) x Troy Hassan Rating: Teen Words: ~1,500 Summary: A day of scavenging doesn't go as planned, but a treasure is found all the same.

Tagging @choicesficwriterscreations (Fics of the Week), @choicesmonthlychallenge (saphires, rubies), @choicesprompts (pride month) and @polyamships

30-Day Challenge Masterlist | Wake the Dead Masterlist | Full Masterlist

Troy leaped out of the van with childlike glee barely a second after Eli shifted it into park. He was already rushing up the wooded hill when Zoe grabbed the back of his leather jacket.

“Easy there, Hassan,” she said softly, not eager to attract the attention of any undead that might be lurking nearby. “Safety first, remember?”

Eli approached from behind, his eyes already rolling. “You act like you’re new to living in a post-apocalyptic hellscape,” he muttered, then turned to Zoe. “I told you we should’ve brought Angel and left him back at Olympus.”

“But then I would have missed the castle!” Troy whined.

It wasn’t exactly a castle, and the estate perched at the top of the hill had clearly seen better days. Ivy clawed through its shattered stained-glass windows, and grimy marble tiles buckled beneath years of abandonment. But the old structure still held an air of majesty. If you closed your eyes, it would be easy to imagine a prince and princess, or perhaps a smug venture capitalist or two, descending the grand staircase in front of the towering oak doors.

“We can’t blame him for being excited,” Zoe offered, trying to keep the peace.

But Eli wasn't moved. “Yes, I can,” he shot back before she even finished.

Zoe gave them both a pointedly amused look. “Well, I can’t blame him... but we still have to stick together and stay quiet. Rules still apply.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Troy replied with a salacious grin, waggling his brows. “I love when you get bossy.”

Eli dragged a hand down his face. “Correction: I should’ve stayed back at Olympus.”

"Stop," Zoe laughed. "You would have missed us terribly!" Linking arms with both of them, she led them up the hill. “Come on, boys. “Let’s see if this place is as impressive on the inside as it is on the out.”

They were greeted with the thick scent of moss and damp wood - and it was quiet, too quiet, as if even the slightest creak might wake whatever ghosts still lingered within. There didn’t seem to be much left to find; the place had clearly been picked over. But that wasn’t going to stop them. They’d long since learned that sometimes a can of peaches or a sealed bottle of iodine could be hiding where you least expected it.

Zoe moved cautiously through the old ballroom, a blade strapped to her thigh, ready for whatever might come. But even as she kicked aside a chunk of fallen plaster, she was enchanted. “This place must’ve been something back in its day,” she whispered.

That’s when Troy popped his head out from behind an ornate cabinet, grinning like a child who’d just found where his parents hid the stash of Christmas gifts. “I found our new currency,” he beamed.

Eli didn’t even look up. “If it’s another scary porcelain doll, I swear to God...”

Troy ignored him and walked dramatically toward Zoe. “My lady,” he said with an exaggerated bow. Then he revealed it - an old, slightly tarnished crown. It still glittered softly despite its obvious age and several missing jewels.

“Wow,” Zoe blinked, taking it in.

“It might be real gold... the sapphires and rubies are probably fake, but it’s still a beauty.” Troy looked pleased with himself. “I found it in a busted display case. We can’t eat it, it can’t patch a roof or clean a wound, but you have to admit - it’s got style.”

Zoe took it from his hands; it was much heavier than expected.

“Who do you think it belonged to?” she asked.

“A fallen aristocrat,” Troy guessed. “The last of her line. She probably escaped to America after World War II. She was expected to marry well and keep the bloodline going, but ended up living out her days in quiet exile after the discovery of her scandalous affair with her stable boy.”

“You’re wrong on all counts,” Zoe declared. “It belonged to the fiercest queen in the land. She fearlessly defended her people before running off with not one but two lovers, then she built a new world from the burnt ashes.”

Troy raised a brow. “Huh. That story sounds oddly familiar.”

Zoe nudged him with her elbow. Then, without a hint of ceremony, Troy retrieved the crown and plopped it onto her head.

“It’s crooked,” she wailed.

“It’s perfect,” Troy smiled. “Just like you.”

Eli finally glanced over. Surprisingly, he didn’t have a sarcastic retort - just a soft glance with a hint of something warm in his eyes.

Zoe stood up straighter and assumed a commanding air, smoothing her grease-covered jeans as if they were a flowing silk ball gown. “I believe,” she said, spinning slowly, “that it is proper to bow before your queen before requesting a dance.”

Troy immediately dropped into a deep, absurd bow.

Eli was unamused. “We’re supposed to be scavenging.”

Zoe glared in his direction in mock horror. “Do you dare to deny your queen?” She circled him, her low tsk-tsk-tsks echoing off the cavernous walls. “Do you not remember the first time you danced with me, Lord Eli?”

“Barely,” he grumbled - but the small, involuntary smile that tugged at his lips was betraying his stony facade.

“It was right after we settled into the lodge,” she went on. “You barely knew me at the time. But you still danced with me.”

“Yep,” he muttered. “And I told you then what I’m telling you now – I knew better than to say no to you. You would have just kept pushing until I gave in.”

“Correct!” She beamed. “You were a smart man back then, but you’re denying me now?”

Troy stepped behind her, voice dripping with mischief. “Get him, Your Majesty! I’m sure we could find a dungeon and leave him here.”

Zoe stifled a laugh. “Duke Troy, I'm afraid you’d miss him terribly if we did."

Troy leaned his head on her shoulder, studying Eli in mock consideration. “I don't know," he said, rubbing his chin. "It depends on what kind of dungeon we’re talking about.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Eli grumbled. Knowing he was outnumbered and secretly wanting to play along, he stepped forward, giving the world’s most reluctant bow. “May I have this dance?”

“Your Majesty,” Zoe corrected, as Eli smirked.

“May I have this dance... Your Majesty,” he repeated.

“You may,” Zoe replied regally and took his hand.

They moved slowly through the dusty ballroom, workboots scuffing across the cracked tile. Troy started to hum some ridiculous waltz, and Eli shot him a look.

“If you keep that up, I’m stopping.”

Troy sauntered over, his hand resting on Eli’s before he pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Zoe chuckled while twirling into Eli's embrace. "Duk Troy? Do you care to cut in?”

“With pleasure,” he grinned, nudging Eli aside with theatrical flair. “I get a slow dance!”

"Yeah," Eli rubbed the back of his neck. “But I’m not humming for you.”

“Rude!”

Zoe winked at Troy, stopping the moment they waltzed in front of Eli. With a grin, she removed the crown and placed it on top of Eli’s head.

“What are you doing?” he asked, a touch of worry in his eyes.

“I – Queen Zoe – am crowning you King.”

“Oh yeah,” he chuckled. “King of what?”

“King of our hearts, of course,” she declared sweetly, her voice full of sincerity.

Troy barked out a laugh. “Now I have to dance with you, King Eli. I mean, you look hot as hell in that crown.”

“God help me,” Eli muttered, but he allowed it. “Again - just to shut you up.”

“Remember this, Queen Zoe!” Troy hollered as he twirled Eli around the room. “As long as we keep yapping, we can get this man to do anything we want!”

"Duly noted!" She grinned, placing a hand over her overflowing heart. She could have watched them all day - Eli stiff and grumbling, Troy obnoxious yet graceful. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this much joy.

After allowing them to have their moment, she stepped in, falling into their eagerly awaiting arms. The three swayed together in the silence, and despite Eli’s usual reluctance, even he didn’t want to stop.

“You know,” she teased, “the ‘music’ stopped a while ago. But here we are - still holding on to each other.”

Eli placed a kiss on the top of her head, a warm smile on his lips. “We don’t need music for that.”

Troy kissed Zoe’s cheek, then leaned over and kissed Eli’s temple. She turned and kissed them both in turn, then closed her eyes and simply breathed, wishing to commit this precious moment to memory.

Eventually, Eli gently removed the crown and tucked it into his bag. “Come on,” he said. “As nice as this is, it’s going to get dark soon, and I want to get us home safely.”

He gave one last look inside a nearby cabinet and shook his head. “Not much of a haul today.”

Zoe stepped up beside him and laced her fingers through his. “I don’t know about that. I think this was one of our best finds yet.”

Troy slung an arm around both of them. “Yeah. Being here with the two of you today – it was worth more than a thousand cans of peaches.”

“And pineapples,” Zoe added with a smile.

“Hey – let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Eli chuckled.

They walked through the long, faded corridor together as the sunlight quickly faded, making it back to the van just before dusk. Zoe gave the estate one last look over her shoulder.

“Let’s go, boys,” she smiled. “Olympus awaits.”

And with the crown packed safely among bandages and a few loose batteries, they drove back toward the only kingdom that mattered – the one where they had each other.

#wake the dead #read

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snoopdogcone · 6 days ago

Text

This is the precious fluff I've needed. I love seeing Ethan as a doting father, and bringing in pancakes is the perfect touch. I really enjoyed this.

Too Sweet

Premise: The twins have a surprise for Ethan on Father’s Day.

Fandom: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine); feat. Sophie and Eloise Ramsey (OCs) Rating/Category: General. Fluff. Words: 1,020

A/N: I haven't written a Father's Day fic in a long time, but got inspired this year.

Submission to @choicescommunityevents June prompt "Love"

Ethan Ramsey never overslept. Well, hardly ever—never sounded too definitive for his analytical way of thinking. But this Sunday morning, he had slept through the alarm and was now rushing to shower and get ready for a day of errands.

He’d woken groggy, the bedroom too bright from the sunlight streaming through the open drapes, revealing sweeping views of Boston Harbor.

Since it was nearly summer, he figured it was still early despite the sun hanging high in the sky. Then his eyes landed on the wall clock opposite the king-sized bed, and he yelped, leaping out of bed and nearly tripping as his long legs tangled in the bed covers.

Bracing one hand against the headboard, he glanced at the empty bed and absently wondered where Cassie was, even as he padded to the ensuite, tossing his T-shirt into the laundry hamper.

Almost thirty minutes later—he must be getting old; everything was taking longer today—he stepped into the walk-in closet, rubbing a towel through his wet hair and wishing he’d had time for a shave.

He quickly got dressed, grabbed his wallet from the bedside table, and tucked it into his back pocket.

Desperate for coffee to kickstart his body, Ethan mentally ran through his to-do list and wondered how he’d managed to put off so many routine things.

He’d always been disciplined about spreading out errands so they didn’t become a chore—a habit he’d developed during residency that had served him well throughout his busy career as a physician.

Of course, that was before he became a father. Ever since the girls started elementary school a couple of years ago, they’d turned into social butterflies like their mother.

Lately, all his free time on weekends was taken up with dropping them off at playdates, picking them up from birthday parties, or waiting around at dance classes and sports meets with other parents.

Sometimes he longed for the days when his time was his own. And on other days, he couldn’t recall what he’d even done with his spare time; it probably hadn’t been all that memorable anyway.

Lost in thought, he stepped into the kitchen—and stopped short, as if he’d walked into a brick wall.

“Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!” Sophie and Eloise chirped in unison, grinning proudly as they pointed to the breakfast laid out on the kitchen island.

Their aprons were dusted with flour and cocoa powder, and the kitchen counters were a chaotic mess of pots, pans, utensils and other paraphernalia. Was that jam smeared around their mouths?

Before Ethan could say anything, they launched themselves at him, each grabbing one of his legs and transferring sticky substances from their faces and hands onto his clean pants.

“Do you like your surprise?” Eloise asked, her green eyes lit with delight as she tilted her head back.

“We made you pancakes with lots of syrup,” said Sophie, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“All by ourselves,” her sister boasted.

“Well, Mommy helped,” Sophie added, sneaking a quick glance over her shoulder at their mother.

Ethan met Cassie’s laughing eyes across the island. She was enjoying this way too much, and he wondered what he was in for.

“You’re too kind,” she said, sipping her coffee and winking at him above the rim of her mug. “They wanted to make everything for their Daddy all by themselves. I was just along for the ride.”

“I’m definitely surprised… and touched,” Ethan said, running one hand down each girl’s hair.

The stack of pancakes was lopsided and swimming in maple syrup, garnished with colorful marshmallows and a handful of badly chopped strawberries—stems still attached to some—tossed haphazardly around the edge of the plate.

“Taste it, Daddy!” the girls urged excitedly, practically bouncing in their shoes.

Ethan slowly picked up the knife and fork to cut into the stack. He could already tell some were undercooked while others were nearly burnt. The girls watched expectantly, so he took a bite.

The ultra-sweet taste set his teeth on edge, and he briefly wondered if he was in danger of falling into a sugar coma. He caught Cassie’s teasing grin and knew exactly what she was thinking.

He’d never been good at hiding his feelings.

“I’m a doctor, not an actor,” he’d said more than once when they’d found themselves at yet another boring gala schmoozing with hospital donors.

“Hmm… delicious,” Ethan choked out as he swallowed the chewy batter.

Despite his culinary prowess, his own pancake-making skills were hit or miss. Clearly, his daughters had inherited his questionable talent in this area.

He picked up the handmade greeting card propped next to his coffee mug and smiled at the colorful drawing: the girls on either side of him, with Ethan in the center as a giant-like figure wearing a wide (and somewhat creepy) grin.

Moved beyond words, he leaned down, scooped up each girl in his arms, and pulled them into a huge hug.

“Thank you,” he said simply.

He set them down on the kitchen stools. “Why don’t you two help me finish this lovely breakfast? I simply can’t eat it all by myself.”

The girls didn’t need any prompting—they dug into the pancakes with gusto, shoveling marshmallows into their mouths like they were going out of style.

Pleased to have avoided eating another bite of the inedible breakfast, Ethan eyed the coffee with mild apprehension.

“Don’t worry,” Cassie said, stepping closer to press a kiss to his jaw. “The coffee is my contribution to this meal.”

She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear as she lowered her voice to a whisper. “You’re a good sport, babe.” She glanced at the girls, completely absorbed in their meal, and grinned. “And sneaky, too.”

Ethan smirked. “As I recall, it’s one of the things you love about me.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t marry you for your pancake-making abilities,” Cassie chuckled.

He took a long sip of her delicious coffee and smiled.

Fatherhood, he decided, tasted a lot like syrup and chaos. And he wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.

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All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @jerzwriter @kyra75 @lady-calypso @loreofyore @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @snoopdogcone @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @custaroonie @youlookappropriate

#open heart #read

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snoopdogcone · 6 days ago

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Oh! That was fun! I don't blame Cassie one bit either.

Sinful Fantasies

Premise: Cassie has inappropriate thoughts about her boss.

Fandom: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen+ / Mature. Fluff. Words: 765

A/N: Submission for @choicescommunityevents June Challenge prompt "Mystery"

The hallways of Boston’s Edenbrook Hospital were never quiet, certainly not near the end of a shift. Tired residents shuffled on leaden feet, eager to sign out and hand over their patients to the night team so they could go home and crash. Others just wanted to unwind with a beer and a game of pool at Donahue’s—an airlock between work and home.

Cassie Valentine, a first-year resident, was doing a third thing: waiting for her attending to finish reviewing the patient chart and dismiss her for the day.

She should’ve been focused on work, but her mind—and her eyes—were squarely locked on her attending’s hands.

She’d never really noticed a man’s hands before. But for some reason—either from exhaustion or hormones, given where she was in her cycle—she was fascinated by Dr. Ethan Ramsey’s.

Long fingers with short, clipped nails. An elegant wrist with light hair peeking out from under the cuff of his dress shirt and white coat. She liked that he wasn’t too hairy; at least, from what she’d seen when he took off his shirt for the fMRI scan a few weeks ago.

As his fingers, holding the pen, trailed down the patient chart he was reviewing, her tired mind drifted to that secret place in her head where her most inappropriate thoughts lived. Lately, they’d all been about this handsome yet austere man who had captured her attention from day one.

Instead of the chart, she imagined Ethan (she couldn’t very well call him Dr. Ramsey in her sexual fantasies, could she?) stroking the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, leaving trails of tingling nerve endings in their wake.

The soft lighting cast everything in shadows—black and white, like a scene from a noir film. Mysterious, with a hint of danger. Their love was forbidden, existing only in the hedge maze of her mind, where their status wasn’t an obstacle.

In this world, her body was drenched in want, hips lifting off tangled bedsheets, silently begging him closer. But he resisted her wordless pleas, a low chuckle escaping as a wicked grin tugged at his lips—those hands of his continuing their slow torment, setting her body ablaze.

He was a paradox—aloof and serious in public, but in private, when it was just the two of them, he embodied every wicked fantasy her imaginative mind could conjure.

She longed for their trysts the way a wandering nomad longs for water in the desert, recalling things they never did.

Messy kisses under neon lights. Lingering touches that haunted her dreams. And the way he worshipped her body was practically religious. No one before or since had ever cracked the locks surrounding her heart the way he did.

He reached for the pen, uncapping it with his teeth, then held it above her, one brow raised in silent question. In that moment, Cassie would’ve given him anything he asked for.

Her nails raked down his biceps, gripping tight—desperate—as her lips parted, panting with every touch. In her mind, she watched as he traced the letters along the inside of her thigh…

Mine.

The loud clearing of Dr. Ramsey’s throat was as effective as a bucket of cold water. Whatever would’ve happened next in her fantasy would forever remain a mystery.

A pink blush crept up her cheeks as Cassie glanced up at the man who had just played the starring role in her not-safe-for-work thoughts. Her breathing was labored now for an entirely different reason—one she prayed he wouldn’t comment on.

He looked at her expectantly, and she flushed even deeper as she realized she hadn’t heard a single word he’d said. Her mind scrambled for an appropriate response but came up blank.

“Never mind,” Dr. Ramsey muttered, clearly annoyed by her inattention. “Just make sure the nursing staff is updated on the patient’s latest numbers before you sign out.”

Cassie exhaled in relief, watching his white coat snap behind him as he strode down the hallway. If it hadn’t been so late—and if he weren’t distracted by Naveen’s case—that could’ve gone a lot worse.

Locking away her longings in the vault of her mind, she turned and walked off, deliberately taking the long way to the residents’ locker room. She wasn’t ready to face anyone, not until the sinful fantasies in her head had faded completely.

She walked on, the echo of her footsteps the only sound—until the next shift, the next chart, the next stolen glance she’d try not to want as much as she did.

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All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @jerzwriter @kyra75 @lady-calypso @loreofyore @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @snoopdogcone @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @custaroonie @youlookappropriate

#open heart #read

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