#choicesmaychallenge24 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

liaromancewriter · 18 days

Text

Miracles

Premise: A chance encounter with Ethan brings an expected revelation for Cassie.

Fandom: Choices Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,050

A/N: Submission for @choicesmaychallenge24 prompt "mood changed like the weather" and for @jerzwriter Mother's Day event.

Miracle of life, my ass!

It was a miracle the world’s population was edging toward eight billion, given the indignities that pregnancy wrought on women’s bodies.

Cassie Valentine barely controlled a grimace as her patient let out an inhumane scream and tried to push a watermelon-sized human being out of her hoo-ha. The mammoth pregnant belly heaved and metamorphized with each contraction, blood and fluids gushing out from between her thighs.

She was in week three of her intern year ambulatory electives block. She’d chosen Women’s Health, thinking learning more about her body would be cool. However, most of her rotation had been spent in labor and delivery since that team was short-staffed.

Apparently, this was a popular time for giving birth in Boston. What else could horny Bostonians do during the long, cold winter nights?

Contrary to popular belief, babies straight out of the womb were not cute, with their skin red and wrinkly and covered in amnio fluids. Witnessing a mid-morning birth was enough to put one off their lunch.

“You have a beautiful baby girl,” the third-year resident cooed, smiling widely as she laid the wriggling tiny human on the mother’s chest.

Cassie scrutinized the scrunched-up face peeking through the blanket and thought it looked more like a fish, but to each their own.

Leaving mother and child to bond, she followed the team out of the delivery room, discarding the protective sheath and cap in the bin outside, and shook loose her long blonde hair.

Checking her watch to make sure she wasn’t late for afternoon didactics, Cassie strode toward the nurses’ station, intent on completing the notes from this case while it was fresh in her mind.

She didn’t often think about motherhood. After an almost scare in college that had given her and Jackson several restless nights waiting for the results, she’d been diligent about preventing accidental pregnancies.

Still, given that she came from two prolific dynastic families, Cassie supposed it was inevitable she’d have kids one day. But everything she’d witnessed these few weeks hadn’t exactly endeared her to the idea of putting her body through all that!

Her mind came to a screeching halt, and her feet slowed at the sight of Dr. Ramsey leaning against a wall, arms folded, chatting with another attending.

Ethan looked out of place in the brightly painted maternity ward, decorated with colorful wall posters about the benefits of breastfeeding and glittery balloons bobbing in the air as eager parents took their babies home. His somber expression countered the excited hubbub in the busy hallway.

Now, that was a man who couldn’t see kids in his future. Cassie still remembered his ambivalence about family and children when they tested the fMRI machine. Given how his brain scan lit up, it was a sore subject.

Not that it’s any of my business, she thought, turning away. Still, she furtively sniffed her underarms (the delivery room had been hot and sweaty) and sighed in relief. All clear.

Cassie sat behind the desk at the nurses’ station, entering notes into the computer, when a shadow fell over her. She glanced up mid-sentence, instinctively knowing who it was.

“Be with you in a minute, Dr. Ramsey,” the charge nurse said from behind her.

Ethan towered above the station, but his eyes were locked on his phone so Cassie could observe without him being any wiser.

He looked tired, his jawline scruffy with overgrown stubble. His short, neatly styled dark brown hair was unusually tousled—as if he’d run his fingers through it.

Cassie’s hand itched to touch the small, subtle strand of hair that fell slightly forward. It gently curved towards his forehead, softening his otherwise polished (and somewhat austere) look.

She thought it added a bit of character, giving Ethan a relaxed and approachable appearance. Until his striking blue eyes caught you spying. Then, there was nothing casual about Ethan Ramsey.

“Rookie,” Ethan said neutrally, head cocked sideways, his gaze inscrutable.

“Dr. Ramsey,” Cassie acknowledged cooly with a slight nod. She wanted to be nonchalant, but curiosity won out. “What are you doing here?”

He quirked one eyebrow, his expression haughty, for lack of a better word.

“Sorry!” Cassie blurted out, feeling her cheeks flush. “I know it’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s not,” he said, hesitating. “But, since you knew Dolores…”

His Adam’s apple pulsed as he swallowed, emotions swimming in his eyes. He blinked them away, cleared his throat, and shut down any hint of vulnerability.

“Baby Hudson is being discharged from NICU this week. Dolores’ sister asked me to coordinate the transfer to his pediatrician in Minneapolis.”

“Oh. I didn’t know he was still here.”

Cassie realized she hadn’t given Dolores or her baby much thought in the last couple of months. She had moved on to other patients, trying to keep her head above water as the harsh realities of residency and competing in the fellowship competition beat down on her.

Of course, Ethan Hudson was still in the neonatal ICU, given his premature birth at twenty-six weeks. It was a miracle he’d survived the night. She felt terrible for her negligence, even though Dolores’ untimely death had devastated her at the time.

“Why would you?” Ethan commented impassively, drumming his fingers on the desk. “He was no longer under your care.”

“How is he?”

“He——” Ethan sighed, looking away from her briefly. “He’s hit all his developmental markers. Dr. Lozoya doesn’t expect any long-term complications. He has Dolores’ eyes.”

Her green eyes sharpened at the softly spoken words, the tenderness in his voice catching her off guard. From the sudden frown on his lips, Cassie suspected he hadn’t meant to make that admission, at least not to her.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, doctor,” the charge nurse interrupted.

The bubble surrounding them burst. Ethan straightened from the desk and nodded absently before accompanying the charge nurse down the hallway.

Cassie watched his retreating back with a considering look. In the short time she’d known him, his moods appeared to change like the weather.

The man was full of contradictions: arrogant one minute, compassionate another. Dismissive and rude at times, he was also wickedly sarcastic and funny on the most unexpected occasions.

Who, she wondered, was the real Ethan Ramsey?

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

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

@mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16

@justyourusualash @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #open heart fanfic #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfic #choices fanfiction #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #ethan ramsey x cassie valentine

34 notes · View notes

lizzybeth1986 · 30 days

Text

Rose Gold

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Hana Lee x Kiara Theron

Rating: PG

Word Count: 4, 304 words

Content Warning: Mention of Gun Violence, Character Injury.

Summary: Six months after King Liam and Queen Esther's wedding, Hana and Kiara take their next big step as a couple.

A/N: Set in the P&Tverse. Since P&T spans the timelines of Books 2 and 3 (the Engagement Tour and the Unity Tour + Liam & Esther's wedding), most of this fic takes place after the series is meant to end, and there are references to things that happen there that aren't canon.

The first half of the fic, however, takes place just before the group reunites with the MC and Drake at the safe house (TRR3, Ch 1).

I've borrowed a few elements from Hana's own engagement to the MC in the books: the rose gold ring, the coin throwing ritual at the foundation and the proposal at the lake.

Tagging @hanaleeappreciationweek for Day 5: Romance, @choicesficwriterscreations for FoTW and LGBTQ Archive, and @choicesmaychallenge24 for Hera: Marriage

October 14th, 2017. Half past Midnight.

Foolishness. Sheer foolishness.

The voice inwardly chiding her right now sounded suspiciously like her mother; for that reason alone she was desperate to ignore it.

But what else would one call an impulse to jump out of a car that could take her in complete secrecy to the city's best safe house, only to race to Argyros and Sons - Cordonia's premier jewellery store - for a gift she wasn't even sure would be accepted...a promise she wasn't even sure its intended recipient would want?

"Looking for something specific, Your Grace?"

Surprised, Hana looked up from the case displaying an assortment of glittering diamond rings. The eyes that met hers in a speculative survey were ocean-blue, marked by wizened crow's feet. It was at the tip of her tongue to correct him (Lady Hana, sir!) when she spotted the Twitter feed on the iPhone in his hand.

News sure does travel fast around the Capitol!

But no sooner had that thought left her head, than the riptide of memories began to flood her.

The Homecoming Ball. Hors d'oeuvres. Speeches. Fireworks. Announcements. Please welcome Esther DuPont, Duchess of Valtoria, and Hana Lee, Duchess of Krysanthe. Cheers. Expectant Gazes. And then...

Darkness. Gunshots. The acrid taste of fear.

Hana bit back a grimace. How long would memories of tonight haunt her? How long would it be before she heard people address her by her new title, without memories of the violence that followed?

She held her handbag with a sudden death-grip, forcing herself to breathe. To push forth happier, sweeter memories.

Unbidden, comes the one memory that had managed to keep her sane this night.

Her laughter.

Sharp. Raucous. Loud. Jarring against the tinkling sounds of cutlery and glassware, as far away as one could get from the soft, windchime quality of delicate laughter, that every female courtier was taught to emulate.

She thought she'd known love until that moment, fool that she was. Thought that no matter who she dated, no matter how distant she'd be from those memories of the social season - Esther would somehow remain her first and forever love.

Until she had taken that one fateful look at Kiara's wildly joyous face, heard her cackle - the kind one would never normally dare to do at court - and realized with piercing clarity that if she were to compare her feelings for these two women, they would be nowhere close.

Her love for Esther had all the subdued warmth of a crackling bonfire. But these newfound feelings for Kiara?? They made her feel like she was plunging herself headfirst into a raging volcano.

Something within Hana had trembled violently in that moment; some premonition that felt searing in its finality.

Kiara was the one. She was all Hana had ever wanted, without knowing it; all that Hana would ever want, from now till eternity. The one in whose arms she would want to stir awake, every day for the rest of her life.

Kiara Thorne, or no one. Kiara Thorne, or lifelong loneliness.

The phrase rang in her ears like a verdict: final, eternal, unchangeable.

When Hana opened her eyes, she found to her consternation that they were blurry from unshed tears. Quickly blinking them away, she noted dully how different the rings on the display now looked.

Certainly she must have moved to another part of the store without knowing. Where before she'd seen glittering, brilliant, ostentatious diamonds, set in white gold and platinum...now she saw stones nestled in the embrace of a warmer, almost blush-toned metal.

Rose gold.

The metal that was all the rage in her mother's birthplace Bethulia, for its delicate shimmer and soft pink hue. Mama had told her often enough in her childhood that their barony's love for it went far beyond just the colour...that her mother - Hana's Nanimaa - loved it for being such a perfect union of gold, silver and copper...

A whisper of a memory of Nanimaa, the one time she'd ever seen her. At a fountain, glowing from the glimmer of abandoned coins.

It took her less than a minute to find exactly what she didn't know she'd been looking for. Had you asked the jeweller about her, he would have told you that the newly appointed Duchess of Krysanthe had chosen her ring with the greatest confidence. The confidence of a woman who had probably wooed her beloved, confessed her love, basked in the joy of being loved back.

A confidence Hana didn't feel.

When she returned to the limo, she was greeted with the sight of a pensive Liam, rubbing the frown between his brows absently with his fingers. A telltale muscle jumped inside his jaw.

"Any news?" Hana whispered, almost dreading the answer.

"Yes," his voice was grainy from exhaustion and guilt. "Three people injured. Bastien, Esther's press secretary, and...."

"And?" Her voice had gone small and high, that a fearful child's.

"And Lady Kiara. She was..."

Hana blinked once, then blinked again. Liam's mouth was moving, yet no sound seemed to come out. All that she could hear was a low, keening noise, like a muffled siren...or like the moan of a woman in terrible pain.

Kiara. Kiara. Kiara.

May 12th, 2018. Afternoon.

"How far from the palace are you taking us?" Kiara asks, her voice alight with laughter.

"Not even outside its gates," Hana replies, grinning. Kiara looks down at their fingers laced together, palms almost touching.

They've been together for just six months, and still somehow, the lines on Hana's palm feel as familiar to her now as her own. Without even looking she can conjure up the memory of the heartline on Hana's left palm at a moment's notice - long and deep, starting from her index finger, suggesting she would be a wonderful lover with a very fruitful love experience - and her marriage line, stretching from one end of her palm all the way to her ring finger...suggesting friendly in-laws.

(The thought of luring Hana to marry her under the premise of palmistry is sounding more and more tempting by the minute)

Involuntarily - perhaps to stop herself from checking her trouser pockets once again for that tiny box she took from her vault today - Kiara's hand tightens around Hana's.

Can she dare to hope that fortunate beloved could be her?

She steals a glance in Hana's direction, noting with alarm that her fingers are trembling in Kiara's hand.

"We're here," she says, her voice suddenly small and quivering against the gurgle of water in the courtyard fountain. It's been a palace fixture for several decades now - ornate and imposing - a legacy from King Liam's formidable grandmother, the late Queen Mother Cassandra. According to Kiara's father, the woman had married into the family as a young princess from Monterisso, and for her foreignness alone was expected to be crushed by the strictures of the palace and the expectations of her people - yet in a decade's time she had somehow became the most imposing figure there! There was very little in the palace that didn't have her stamp of approval first.

As they come closer, Kiara sees the one thing Queen Mother Cassandra may not have predicted when this fountain was built - the glimmer of coins, all gleaming in the sunlight like they were minted just yesterday.

Her own smile begins to tremble on her lips, even as she notices Hana swallow a telltale nervous lump in her throat. For the first time since they have gotten here, Kiara notices that Hana's other hand is fisted around something. Something that could very likely be the same coins they just saw in the fountain.

She takes that hand gently in hers, knowing now how nervous Hana must feel; knowing that if they complete the ancient lover's ritual that she so hoped to do today, there will be no going back. She uncoils Hana's fisted hand, finger by quivering finger, watching her face as her breathing quickens. She smiles again - a smile more aimed at reassurance than amusement.

"Are we going to do what I think we're going to do today, ma moité?"

For several seconds, Hana doesn't respond. The three coins in her hand (Heavy. Ornate. Engraved with apples. Ancient) are proof enough. The answer, when it finally comes - almost like it is torn out of her throat for fear that Kiara's feelings may not match her own - is barely audible.

"Only if this is what you want too."

Gold. Silver. Copper. Tossed in one after the other in an ancient lover's ritual - one that Kiara knows only because she'd learned about it from her mother, who'd had friends in Bethulia where this ritual was most popular. Maman and Baba themselves had done it on a trip there when she was a teenager, still squirming over her parents' ability to still act like swoony romantics in their (and this would be said well out of their earshot) "fucking forties!".

Wiser now, Kiara feels the same anticipatory tingles that her parents must have felt back then.

This ritual wasn't for the faint of heart in ancient days. You did it only when you were certain. When you looked at your lover and knew that a life without them wasn't a life worth living.

Well, Kiara muses as she watches a hundred emotions flit in a second over Hana's face, I think I've known that long enough. I've known ever since I saw you fight your father in Shanghai, even when you knew it would cost you everything. Since that one moment, I've been yours.

Planting a tender kiss on the corner of Hana's mouth, she takes the coins. "Ready when you are," she whispers softly.

Hana swallows again, her eyes glistening and moist and relieved all at once. In a silk pouch that dangles from her wrist, she fishes for three coins identical to the ones on Kiara's palm. She breathes deep once, twice, three times.

Kiara links their free hands, grips them tight as they turn their backs to the fountain. Hana looks up, a question in her eyes.

"For friendship!" Kiara says, tossing the copper coin into the fountain. Faint memories of something that almost feels like another lifetime glimmer and fade in her memory. Applewood, sipping water, giggling over their favourite fruits and flowers. The Beaumont Bash. Watching from the sidelines as Hana did the verbel equivalent of ripping out Olivia Nevrakis' spine at the Coronation Ball.

Hana takes out the silver coin, and waits for Kiara to holds up hers'. "For love?"

Engagement tour. Fearing Hana would hate her in Fydelia, but never understanding why that should suddenly matter. Standing with her against a bridge in Paris, each mourning their lost loves.

Finally learning what love really was, when she opened her eyes and truly saw Hana for the very first time.

Kiara nods, touching her forehead to Hana's. "Par amour." Their coins splash in unison in the water.

Her girlfriend lets out a watery giggle as she takes out the final coin, glittering and golden on her palm. Her voice breaks a little as she tosses it behind her. "For...bel- belonging".

Kiara's own sigh releases in a shudder as she lets the final pledge sink in.

There were very few places in the world that truly felt like home to Hana. Not the place where she was born, not the barony that could have been her legacy. It took her months to even find comfort or security in her future in Cordonia - much less belonging.

Without a moment's thought, and without releasing the golden coin in her hand, she cups Hana's face and kisses her. Hana shudders and buries her hands in Kiara's hair, her lips trembling against the unspoken promises in her lover's.

"For belonging," Kiara says it like it is a vow. "And I don't care how long it takes - I give my word right now. I'll never let you feel like you have lost your home. Ever." Another kiss - this time on Hana's temple. "I hope you will always find one. In me."

Hana's smile is warm and dreamlike, her eyes closed as if to savour this moment, her fingers playing with Kiara's curls. She barely notices the sound of Kiara's gold coin landing in the fountain. "I love you, Kiki."

Kiara chuckles at her teasing use of the nickname, brushing Hana's nose with her own. "Together forever?"

Their hands, now free, close around each other. "Together forever."

It's quiet now, except for the sound of collard doves, the rustle of leaves and branches in a light breeze, and their breathing. The air smells of wildflowers, citrus and a subtle floral scent that Kiara knows to be the perfume Hana has been using for months. Orange Blossom. She grins as she remembers. It's a scent Hana has often loved to wear, just for her.

Hana's thumb feathers lightly over the ring finger on Kiara's left hand, almost as if to commit the bare space on it to her memory. Kiara doesn't miss that gaze - bright-eyed and soaked in longing - and how it mirrors a need she has felt ever since they landed at the Capitol last week.

Kiara swallows. She had wanted to take things slow, she really did. Woo her, bathe her in every luxury possible, make this trip even more unforgettable than Hana could ever imagine, and then spring this surprise on her - like a kirsch-soaked cherry topping on an already very tempting Black Forest Cake.

But...but that gaze of Hana's has always been Kiara's undoing.

Simply, she says, "come with me."

Puzzled, Hana looks up. "Where?"

"To Lake Sôse," Kiara whispers, wasting not one more moment and grabbing her hand. Hana lets out a nervous, slightly incredulous laugh as she allows herself to be pulled along.

Kiara isn't sure why she's suddenly rushing this. When she thinks of the elaborate plans she'd been constructing all week - chocolate-dipped strawberries and champagne at one of the Capital's premier restaurants, flowers everywhere, a proposal at the hedge maze with a picture together by the swing to commemorate the occasion - she wants to laugh. She isn't even sure why Lake Sôse was the first place she'd thought of just now.

She takes a deep breath, and grounds herself. Uncommonly impulsive though it may be, her decision has been made. There is even a part of her that seems to prefer it to happen this way!Kiara has never been one for last minute changes of plan...but ever since she fell in love with Hana, she's learned to expect - and enjoy - the unexpected.

It's only when she sees the shine in Hana's eyes that she realises why her mind took the turn it did.

Lake Sôse. The one place Hana Lee has always chosen for solace and comfort. The one place in the Capitol where she felt the most at home. It had been here, Hana told Kiara once, that King Liam had told her his plans to appoint her Duchess of Krysanthe. It was here, hours later, that she'd shared that momentous news with her best friend Esther; where Esther - herself aglow with love and a newfound purpose - hugged Hana and told her that the world would now be Hana's oyster.

She'd brought Kiara to this lake for the first time the day after King Liam and Queen Esther's wedding, following a night when the queen herself had been kidnapped, and Hana had joined the king's entourage to rescue her.

A night that Kiara - in constant fear of losing her forever - had recklessly kissed Hana. In public. In front of the entire court. Braving gazes of teasing approval from Kiara's parents, and near-murderous glares from Hana's. The night everyone outside of Hana's friend circle finally realized the two were a couple.

Kiara remembers the day after that like it was yesterday. Something must have changed fundamentally in Hana that night, because the fear seemed to have gone, and with it the compulsive need for hiding and subterfuge and constantly looking over her shoulder. It was as if Hana had faced what she'd thought was the worst thing that could happen to her, and realized she really was strong enough to face that fear.

You're my safe place among people, Hana told her that morning, her fingers lacing through Kiara's. The one I feel most at home with. I want to bring my safe space..to the place in Cordonia I've always felt safest in.

It is afternoon, and the yellow crocuses behind them exude a warm, buttery golden glow in the sunlight. Hana lets out a breathless, incredulous laugh. "You seem like a woman in a very huge rush today, Lady Thorne."

Kiara's own laughter in response is high-pitched and halting. She tries to hide the moistness of her palms as she makes a blind grab for the small velvet box in her purse. "Believe me, this wasn't the way I'd planned this to go at all."

Intrigued, Hana's eyes follow Kiara's hands, and her eyes widen as she recognises the familiar deep blue velvet, the embossed silver lettering on top. Argyros and Sons.

"Is that --"

"Yes," Kiara says, clearing her throat, "I'd been planning this. All week. It was going to be romantic, elaborate, I was going to sweep you off your feet. Just like I'd planned to ask you out seven months ago."

Hana lets out a watery giggle. We all know how that turned out, don't we, qīn'ài de? Kiara can almost hear her saying.

But the humour stops almost immediately when she looks at the box again, and suddenly Hana seems too still, too shocked...too far off from how Kiara hoped she would react.

Kiara lets out a deep breath, then lets the words gush out of her. She's too scared to stop, too terrified to think - the fear that she may be doing too much too soon is so overwhelming that she knows if she stops she won't be able to bring herself to do this for a long, long time to come. The humiliation would be too strong.

"I'm not one for impulse. I never have been. I've never felt comfortable with anything if I didn't have a plan for it first."

Kiara gives herself a moment to half-smile at the irony of it all. Approaching Hana Lee with a smile and a bottle of water, after that first eventful bite of a Cordonian Ruby was definitely an impulse. So were half the things she had done with Hana since. So will many, many, many of the things they may wind up doing together, if (if!) this leap of faith works in her favour.

She looks up at Hana to see if she's laughing at the memory too. She isn't. In fact, Kiara isn't even sure Hana's reacting yet to what she's saying. Perfectly still, her eyes never moving from the box, so wide that they would go bloodshot if they were widened any further. Kiara swallows, and finds that her throat feels suddenly, inexplicably sore.

"I could never tell what it was about you that changed all that. I still don't. All I know is that...around you, Hana, I feel so much more brave. To let go of the need to plan and organize. To not be too afraid of what will follow - whether it goes in my favour or not. I find myself not just willing, but eager, to trust my gut."

Kiara's eyes search every inch of Hana's face as she opens the box, revealing the ring inside. It's a gorgeous piece, all platinum and sparkling diamonds. The smaller stones form a cluster around a massive one, leading the viewer to believe they are seeing a glittering snowflake, fallen fresh from the heavens.

Kiara had known the minute she saw the ring that it was the one. That it would remind them of the first time they confessed their love. Of their very first date, of the first time they shared Hana's cup of homemade hot chocolate. Of why the two of them will always love winters.

Hana's fingers move, trembling, towards her mouth, her face suddenly flushed. She remembers it too.

"Hana Lee," A frisson of fear slithers down Kiara's spine. "Will you marry me?"

When Hana finally opens her mouth, several seconds later, Kiara has to strain to hear her voice.

"I - I -" her eyes dart away from Kiara as if she's just remembered something important - her beautiful bronzed skin suddenly a little drained of colour. The next few words, she says in a "I.... I'll be back. Give me five minutes? I...just remembered something."

She leaves without waiting for an answer.

Kiara sinks into the grass, covering her face in her hands.

What have I just done?

All the way back from her room in the palace to the lake, the pouch hanging from her wrist feeling only a slight bit heavier, Hana cannot stop mentally kicking herself.

"You fool! You imbecile! Bèn dàn!!" Hana curses herself as she speeds up her sprint into a run, "What happened to your tongue? What kind of reaction was that?? What will Kiara think?"

Her mind now sprints miles ahead of her feet, racing in panicked ferocity over the possibilities.

With any luck, Kiara could still be waiting - puzzled and perhaps a little worried. Or she could be actively panicking, the way she does (on very rare occasions) when a plan goes terribly wrong.

Or...or...

Hana holds the silk pouch from her wrist in a deathlike grip as she speeds up towards Lake Sôse. Or.

The thought of that lovely, open space completely devoid of Kiara, of that beguiling combination of rose and jasmine emanating from her favourite Dior J'adore perfume, makes Hana's stomach drop to her feet.

It isn't until she sees that that heartbreakingly familiar figure of Kiara's, hunched over the grass, that Hana allows herself to breathe.

Kiara is there. Shoulders bent, head buried in her hands, almost stumbling as she tries to get up when she sees Hana.

Morose. Defeated. But still there.

Without another thought, Hana rushes into Kiara's arms, almost knocking her off her feet.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Hana whispers against her hair. "I wasn't trying to run away. I really had to get something. For you."

Kiara pulls back to look into her eyes, and when she does Hana's heart twists at the sight of unshed tears. "I thought I'd scared you off."

Hana's own laughter quavers, pitched high in disbelief. "I've just pledged myself to you this afternoon, body and soul, at the palace fountain. This -" she lifts Kiara's left hand to her chest, her thumb caressing the empty space on her beloved's ring finger " - just makes it so much more real."

Kiara's arms wrap around her, pulling Hana flush to her. Hana can feel Kiara shake as she giggles in response. "...you mean to say that I'd have saved myself so much stress if I'd just remembered those coins."

"Yes, qīn'ài de, a thousand times yes." She cups Kiara's face, pressing their foreheads together. "Place that ring where it belongs, Kiki. I can't wait to see it on my finger."

Hana holds her tight until Kiara's breathing becomes slower, calmer. She raises her newly-adorned hand for Kiara to see - marvelling at how the ring really mimics the glow of a snow crystal in the winter sun.

When they part, shyly, reluctantly, Hana begins to fiddle with the silk pouch.

"Here's what I'd gone to bring."

Kiara's eyes brighten at the sight of the box in her hand; a wave of warmth floods through Hana in anticipation of her response. Kiara gasps the minute she opens the box, revealing a delicate, intricately carved rose gold ring, flanked by small diamonds on all four corners, cradling a bigger one at the center.

"Rose gold," Kiara murmurs in wonder.

"Yes," Hana brushes her fingers over Kiara's knuckles. She'd told her once, long ago, how revered that metal was in her home province Bethulia. How Bethulian jewellers and goldsmiths and young women swore by the rosy hue it exuded. How it was a perfect amalgamation of three precious metals - all highly valued in the province. How tied it was to their folktales and bridal rituals.

"Copper..silver...gold." Kiara's tears glitter like diamonds before she lets them fall. "For friendship. For love. For belonging."

Hana smiles, her hand still stroking Kiara's cheek. "You remembered."

Kiara rolls her still-moist eyes, trying hard not to sniff - it would take out all the humour in this situation. "It's hard to forget a ritual we'd performed just ten minutes ago, ma moité."

"I'd planned to give you this ring a week from now," Hana says, shaking her head at her own impulsiveness as the ring she'd chosen on a fanciful whim so long ago, now finds its home. "I've been holding onto it for far too long."

Kiara caresses the stone on her own finger lovingly, admiring the way the rose gold glows on her skin. When she speaks, her voice is breathless in anticipation. "How long?"

For several minutes, Hana's only response is to pull Kiara back in her arms again. Her hand slides slowly, almost with a tinge of regret, down the dip of Kiara's waist on her left side. The wound that had once served as a constant, searing reminder of so much (of her vulnerability, of her inability to run from pain, of what she'd once considered her failures), has healed in more ways than one - only a faded scar that Hana never fails to kiss, now remains.

"For seven months," Hana's voice shakes at the memory, "Since the night after Homecoming Ball."

With a choked sob, Kiara enfolds Hana into her arms, almost as if she'd want to absorb her into every cell of her body. Fervently, reverently, she presses her lips all over Hana's face - her eyelids, her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, all the little-known, barely-noticed parts of her. It takes her a while - perhaps too long, in Hana's opinion - for Kiara's lips to meet hers, but she welcomes the sweet torture of waiting.

"Mon cœur," Kiara says between kisses, "ma raison de vivre."

When they part, the two women keep each other's hands interlinked, one left hand over the other. Neither of them will remember how long they stay at the lake; only that they never want this joy, this warm afterglow of seeing their dreams come true...to end.

The empty spaces on their ring fingers, over which they'd each stolen such secret, hungry glances today, now bear the mark of their lovers. Now bear the most tangible signs of their love, their memories, their promises, their commitment.

Together forever.

Translation:

Ma moité - a romantic endearment in French, meaning "my other half"

Qīn'ài de - Mandarin Chinese for "my dear"/"darling"

Bèn dàn - Mandarin Chinese cuss word that means "stupid egg!"

Mon cœur - French endearment, meaning "my heart"

Ma raison de vivre - French for "my reason to live"

References for Hana and Kiara's engagement rings:

Kiara:

(Source: Maxine Jewellery)

Hana:

(Source: This article on engagement rings, but the actual pic itself came from Blue Rose Photography)

#hana lee #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #hanaleeappreciationweek #HLAW #HLAW 2024 #HLAW Day 5 #HLAW Day 5: Romance #series: petals and thornes #lizzybeth1986 #content: fanfic

26 notes · View notes

aria-ashryver · 24 days

Text

A Pinch of Sugar

Book: Immortal Desires Characters: Seth Olsen-Cooper, Terri O'Rinn Ratings/Warnings: General, recurring food motif Words: 2K

Summary: Seth sees Terri buying cookies for "her son". (Fic takes place within the SICSIG timeline, some months after CH33 when Seth and Terri first cook stew and dumplings together).

A/N: Participating in Choices May Challenge 2024 | Prompt: "I'll take care of you". (Honestly, the “Have you ever been struck by a sudden desire for - soup?” prompt works too. Stew is nearly soup, right?)

Tagging: @choicesficwriterscreations @choicesmaychallenge24 @lilyoffandoms @stars-are-within-me

Seth’s lunchbox was a cheery sky blue. It was a huge, circular affair; an insulated metal canister with a handle at the top, that unscrewed to reveal a number of little compartments for cold cuts, for snacks, for soup, for cutlery.

The paint wasn’t even scratched yet, because Terri had only just bought it.

For him.

She’d bought Seth his own lunch box.

It was brisk outside, today; the sky a slate grey and smelling like the edge of rain, a line of seagulls slicing through the air to wing their way toward the docks. Probably not smart weather to be sitting outside in, eating lunch alone on the steps behind the gymnasium. But here he was all the same; concrete cold beneath his thighs, lunchbox warm and perched on his knees.

Curls of steam rose up from the stew and dumplings. Ever since Terri had taught him the recipe all those months ago, the beef stew had become one of his safe foods.

Seth huffed a breath, pushing a piece of onion around the bowl with his spoon, his feelings all tangled up in his throat.

He’d come to know the taste of many things, sitting at the O’Rinn’s dinner table.

The crisp snap of Anzac biscuits, butter clinging to his fingertips to leave little smudgy fingerprints on the edges of the newspaper when he helped Terri finish her crossword puzzle.

The creamy indulgence of fettucine alfredo, and the carb-laden groan Luca would always make when they got to the end of their bowl. The second, louder groan that always came on the heels of the first when they remembered it was their turn on dish duty.

The way the taste of Twizzlers grew rubbery and numb on his tongue at 5:27am, when he’d eaten his way through yet another packet, over yet another round of Mario Kart, and Luca had finally passed out beside him on the couch.

The slightly lumpy mashed potatoes Terri made to go with her red-wine braised lamb shanks, that he’d honestly thought would cause him all sorts of sensory issues at first. Until he’d quickly learned that the lumps were his favourite part.

He’d only ever had instant, powdered mash potato under the foster care system. It had tasted like dust.

All of his meals did.

Terri put butter and milk in her mashed potatoes.

Salt, and pepper, and understanding, somehow. Kindness. Care. Sometimes she’d put garlic, or crispy little bacon bits and chives, or some other secret thing. Once, there would have been a time where he couldn’t handle the unpredictable deviations from the norm. The unexpected textures.

Now, he didn’t care as much, because it wasn’t the ingredients that made the potatoes taste the way they did.

Terri O’Rinn’s lumpy mashed potatoes told him, “I'll take care of you”.

They tasted like being loved.

At least, Seth thought that was probably what being loved felt like. No one had ever really…

He’d never had…

Seth swiped a finger around the rim of his lunchbox, sucked at the savoury richness of the stew until the bowl was licked clean.

He wasn’t even really that hungry, to be honest. He just didn’t want to waste it.

It had been a really long time since Seth had gone hungry.

Supermarket lights were one of the few things that drove him mad when it came to being a vampire. Something about the combination of flickering halogens and the hugeness —the sterile off-whiteness— of grocery stores never failed to give him a headache.

Seth hurried through the supermarket —but not too fast; human, human, gotta look human; gosh, these lights are nasty; don’t walk too fast, you’re totally human; nod politely at Mr Philips in the produce section; oh, that’s right, need to finish those homework questions for economics; Luca probably forgot to do his, too— shuffling to a halt in the aisle where all the candy was.

He grabbed a brightly-coloured pack of Twizzlers from the shelf. Two, actually. Because Luca had been staying with Gabriel a lot more often lately, but the past few nights they’d been home, and maybe they would want to play Mario Kart with him again sometime.

Seth was just making his way to the checkout when he caught sight of Terri across the store.

‘Oh, aren’t these cute!’

Terri beamed, laughter in her smile, peering at a display of baked goods near the checkouts.

‘I should get some of these cookies for my son!’ she told the clerk. ‘He absolutely loves cats. Our Minnie adores him.’

As Terri paid for her purchases, chatting happily with the girl at the counter about their pets, Seth found himself frowning. He tucked himself behind a shelf full of bread loaves, lurking where Terri wouldn’t see him.

It wasn’t like her to slip up like that.

Luca hated “son”.

It was one of the gendered terms they despised the most. Seth knew, because he’d asked Terri on four separate occasions exactly how and when he should be using Luca’s pronouns, and what words to avoid. Luca had been so kind to him these past months. Welcoming. He’d hate to get it all wrong and upset them.

“Son” was an absolute no-go.

He knew, because he kept a list in his wallet, and he’d re-read it until he knew it by heart, and still checked it now and then, just in case he’d forgotten.

Pronouns: he/they. Alternate between them, don’t just use one.

“Dude” is a term they like, so is “lad”.

“Boy” is fine sometimes, but it’s not their favourite. Context dependent. Maybe re-work the sentence to use something else instead.

“Man” makes him deeply uncomfortable, and “bro” is hugely dependent on who it comes from.

Under no circumstances should he ever refer to Luca as Terri’s “son”.

Seth hadn’t asked about “brother”, on account of that seemed really presumptuous.

And besides, Seth thought. The mere thought of even asking whether Luca might ever consider himself Seth’s brother made funny little bubbles fizz around in his stomach, like he was a can of cola that had fallen with a heavy thunk off of one of the supermarket shelves, and now he was whizzing around in sticky, dizzying spirals on the linoleum in Embarrassing Coke-Can Hell.

Or something.

A wave of clammy discomfort washed over him. Seth fiddled with the frayed threads at the edge of his sleeve.

But, then again, Seth supposed, trying his best to blend in with the loaves of bread —which wasn’t hard, because sliced bread was very boring, and Cas said he was the most boring person he’d ever met, so maybe Seth had been a loaf of bread in a past life or something, which would go a long way toward explaining his complete inability to ever have a normal conversation with anyone— it wasn’t exactly like he was an expert in being non-binary. He hadn’t even known that was a thing until a year or two ago.

Maybe Luca had just changed their mind about the “son” thing?

…or maybe not?

Ragged, grey threads drifted down onto the linoleum, littering the floor by his shoes.

He’d ask Terri about it again. Just to be sure.

Seth stopped by his room at the Nexus. Or rather, he tried to; he wound his way through the underground corridors, arriving outside his door only to have the keypad flash red when he tried to key in the pin code to his room.

He tried again.

“No Entry”.

Confused, he bumbled his way back through the labyrinthine halls, picking his way to Astoria’s office.

‘I had that room cleared out about a month ago,’ Astoria told him, waving him in. Her eyes pinched in mild confusion. ‘I had assumed your living situation with the O’Rinns had become something of a permanent arrangement.’

‘Oh. Okay.’

Astoria paused, her pen hovering above her documents. ‘Is it not?’

Eyes downcast, Seth shrugged. ‘I dunno,’ he mumbled.

He’d learned not to ask questions.

It always worked better when you were quiet. Helpful. Well-behaved. Didn’t ask too many questions. Questions were the kicker. As soon as you asked too many questions, that was when they dumped you back in foster care.

Or… the vampire den, in this case.

Astoria jiggled her pen between her fingers. ‘You’re not in the least bit curious?’

Seth scuffed the toe of his shoe on the floor and said nothing.

A quiet sigh slipped past Astoria’s lips. She flicked her paperwork aside. In all honesty, Seth couldn’t tell if something had her amused or if she was seconds away from throttling him; she shoved out of her chair, crossing her office in two quick strides to tug a duffel bag from a closet.

‘Here. The last of your things from your old room.’

Seth caught the bag on reflex. It was lighter than he’d expected, but that shouldn’t have surprised him, really. He’d never had that many belongings of his own.

‘I had it cleared out a few weeks ago,’ Astoria explained. ‘Remus is staying there for the time being. But, Seth?’

As much as he disliked doing so, Seth forced himself to make eye contact.

‘That doesn’t mean you aren’t welcome here, too, do you understand that? Family is who you choose to love, and trust, and protect. If you want that to mean the O’Rinns, as well as the Venandis… that’s okay.

Nice Astoria might be even more terrifying than Regular Astoria, Seth thought. She slipped back into her seat and he nodded.

‘Okay. Um. I should head home,’ he said by way of farewell, startled to realise he did actually think of the O’Rinn’s house that way. ‘Thanks, Astoria.’

Astoria smiled after him as the door swung shut.

Home.

What a concept.

‘Seth! Hi, dear!’

Terri was in the kitchen again when Seth arrived… home. She brightened as he entered, bustling over to steer him toward the dining table, where a plastic clam-shell container sat on the warm, age-scarred wood.

‘Here — look what I found at the supermarket!’

Seth took a seat. A number of cookies peered back at him from behind their glossy plastic shell; chocolate, vanilla, caramel, the flavours all mixed and patterned to look like little calico cats.

‘Oh,’ he said, quietly. Seth’s stomach felt all funny again, and he wasn’t sure why. ‘Wow, great. I’m sure Luca will love them.’

Terri’s head whipped around, confusion skewing her expression. ‘No, they’re for you, duckie!’

Fizzing cola can.

Thunking to the floor.

Spinning around and around and around and around and—

Seth stared blankly at the cookies. ‘But you said they were for…’

‘Have some now if you like!’ Terri said, his whispered words pitched too low for her human hearing. ‘Don’t ruin your appetite, though, I’ve got dinner on.’

Seth’s mind was reeling.

Terri hummed a mellow tune to herself as she skirted back behind the kitchen counter, her fingers brushing lightly over his hair as she went.

It seemed... important, somehow, to open the container quietly. The plastic crunched beneath his clumsy fingers, the clam-shell packaging popping open to jostle the cookies about on the tray, crumbs jumping everywhere.

Seth glanced up to see if he’d made Terri mad, but she seemed happy as ever, standing at the oven and tasting the sauce on the end of her wooden spoon, nodding quietly to herself.

Fingers trembling, Seth popped a cookie into his mouth. The first bite was sugary sweet against the wash of salt on the back of his tongue. He chewed slowly, gratefully, coughing against a throat grown tight.

‘So? What’s the verdict?’ Terri called over her shoulder. ‘Are they good?’

Seth sniffed, scrubbing his wet eyes on his sleeve before Terri could see.

‘Yeah. Um. Thank you, Terri, ’ Seth said. ‘They’re perfect.’

#SICSIG #cw food #choices immortal desires #immortal desires #terri o'rinn #seth olsen-cooper #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic

13 notes · View notes

choicesmonthlychallenge · 10 days

Text

There are so many great resources for Choices content creators, but it can be hard to keep track of all the different things. So here is my attempt to compile a list. Please message me here or @lovealexhunt if you know of something else. I’ll keep this updated as new things open too.

⟢Monthly Challenges⟢

May — @choicesmaychallenge24 [Prompts]

June — @choicesjunechallenge2024 [Prompts]

Upcoming:

July — Taken: Host Found

August — Open

September — tentatively taken

Prompts for the monthly challenges usually post around the 20th of the month prior. If a host drops out, I note it here. Please be patient as we all have lives outside of Choices.

⟢Pride Events—June 2024⟢

Pride Month: @choicespride [Event Info]

HSS Prime Pride Event hosted by: @hsslilly-blog [Prompts]

CFWC Pride Event @choicesficwriterscreations [Event Info]

⟢Celebration + Themed Events⟢

June 7-9: National Best Friend Day @choicescommunityevents [Event Info/Prompts]

June 17-24: International Fairy Day hosted by @ladylamrian at @choicescommunityevents

June 30-July 6: Tobias Carrick Appreciation Week: @tobias-carrick-appreciation-week

Know of any celebration weeks? Send me a message!

⟢Other Events & Things⟢

@choicesficwriterscreations: Fic/Art of the week, WIP, Throwback, and other special events

@choicesprompts

@choicesholidays

Fandom Birthdays 🥳 [list here]

Choices Book Club : @choicesbookclub [Event Info]

Wake the Dead reread: @wakethedead-group-re-read

⟢Not Currently Active⟢

@moodmusicmonday (Monday music prompts)

@choicesflashfics (weekly dialogue prompts)

⟢ Past Monthly Challenges ⟢

2024 Monthly Challenges

2023 Monthly Challenges

2022 Monthly Challenges

2021 Monthly Challenges

2020 Monthly Challenges

#play choices #playchoices #choices #choices fan fiction #fan fiction #choices game #writing inspiration #resource

12 notes · View notes

choicesmc · 11 days

Text

home is with her (but you’re close enough)

MC: Jiahao Thorne Book: Immortal Desires Word Count: Summary: Jiahao is terribly homesick for her sister an ocean away. Luckily for him, her mom can be too much like her. Banner: After the Bath by Joseph Lorusso Prompt: Hestia Taglist: @choicesmaychallenge24

The avocado was too firm to mush. That much Jiahao knew. Frustration coiled around him.

Adanne never struggled to mash a chunk of avocado. Her fingers flew over ingredients, weighing and mixing and measuring everything with her heart. She never had to pause to check a label. Never had to wrestle the peel off of something.

Not that it mattered.

Remembering the ease Adanne moved through the kitchen did nothing to soothe the gaping hole of longing that ate at Jia. In fact, every memory was coated in a poisonous layer of nostalgia that only fueled the homesickness that ran through her.

It emptied her.

And Jiahao hated feeling empty.

So when the bowl flew right out of her hands and smashed against the wall, leaving green half-mushed chunks to crawl down floral printed wallpaper, a quick shot of satisfaction tingled through Jia. …Right before being swallowed by the ever-growing void that longed for Adanne.

“Jia?”

He didn’t move, anger stiffening his stance, “What?”

The edge of her tone must have scared Charity off because she said nothing more. Instead she inspected the seasonings and powders lining the countertops and the odd egg here and there.

When her eyes landed on the shaobing Jia clutched in hand, understanding dawned.

“You’re peckish,” she stated, hands already flying over ingredients, making measurements with her heart.

Jia said nothing, merely taking mental note of his mother as she flittered around the kitchen.

Charity murmured under her breath –like Adanne did.

Her steps were light, barely making a sound as she moved from counter to counter. Something Adanne did too.

Her eyes stayed trained on their task, barely pausing to let anything else catch their interests. Again. Just like Adanne.

It was disgustingly sweet how much Charity resembled Adanne. Jia would’ve rolled her eyes if her soul didn’t sing at each similarity. It was embarrassing how tightly she clutched at every unexpected piece of Adanne that flowed through his mother.

Voice tight, but honest, Jia spoke up, “How can I help?”

Charity froze, excitement and neutrality battling for dominance over her expression. Ducking her head, voice high and breathy, Charity replied, “Sure, yeah, just, just grind the dried peppers, okay?”

Jia nodded, reaching for the mortar and pestle.

This wasn’t home. At least not without Adanne. But, Jia’s eyes flicked towards Charity, perhaps there were enough slivers of Adanne to make do anyway.

A RECIPE CARD

A/N: another one juud? <- yes.

anyhow, something a little sweet this time <3 + yes the recipe does actually work both! It's a small snack I make from time to time. I promise you, it tastes a lot better than you might think. (i actually had some this morning!! but didn't think to take or a picture or smth, so hopefully i remember next time 🤞)

ENJOY!

#myfic #fanfic #jet #recipe #choicesmaychallenge24

10 notes · View notes

saibug1022 · 17 days

Text

Speaking of @choicesmaychallenge24 I have a prompt that I don't fully know what to do with so I want to put it out into the world. Aka ilitw fans I am PLEASING with you all to consider Dan Pierce and the myth of Cassandra. I offer these paintings:

And this song:

#choices may challenge #playchoices #choices #ilitw #it lives in the woods #it lives anthology #dan pierce #greek mythology #cassandra of troy #Spotify

3 notes · View notes

jerzwriter · 7 days

Text

Mostly Pleasant Surprises 4 / 4 And that's what happened...

This is the final installment of "how they finally got together." 😊 🎊🎈🍾🎊🎈🥳🥳🍾🎊🎈🍾🎊 You have no idea how happy I am that this is finally on 'paper'!

Book: Open Heart (Book 2 Timeline) Pairing: Tobias Carrick & Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 5,000

Series Summary: It's been months since the chemical attack, and "kind of" exes-turned-friends Tobias & Casey have been stubbornly denying their growing feelings for each other. But when a series of events threatens to come between them, will they find their way back together?

Part 4 Summary: Their friends have given up. Misunderstandings, misassumptions, and good old-fashioned fear lead to turbulence and turmoil for Tobias and Casey, but after a week of no contact, only one of them seems to be hurting, at least on the surface. Tobias is determined to move on, but will his haste put a nail in their coffin or help bring them back together?

A/N: It's finally done!!!!! Did I mention how excited I am? 🥳🥳🥳 I don't care if no one else cares, I CARE, and it's done! My babies deserve this! :) Participating in @choicesmaychallenge24 We've got wine, passion and "Good night, my love."

Series Masterlist || Tobias x Casey Masterlist Full Masterlist

Showing up early to work wasn’t out of character for Dr. Carrick, but showing up at 7:00 AM when his shift began at noon could only mean one thing... he couldn’t sleep. When his good friend, Sasha, realized he was already there at this early hour, she headed to Caffe Bene and purchased two cups of matcha latte. It was her hope that frothy green beverages would be part of a celebration and not something to lift his spirits, but to play it safe, she added his favorite honey bread to her order, just in case comfort food was required. She smiled when she stepped into his office, assuming her worry was for naught when she found him in such good spirits.

“Hey,” she smiled. “I got our favorite!”

“Awesome!” Tobias grinned. “That’s a big improvement over the Lipton tea bag I was about to brew.”

“You’re in a good mood so early in the day,” Sasha noted. “Is there a reason?”

“Sure is! I’ve got a big date on Saturday.”

“Really!” She squealed. “YES! You and Casey finally got your shit together! Now, give me the details! Where are you taking her? It better be someplace nice!”

Tobias took a long sip of his tea and slouched back in his Italian leather chair.

“Who said anything about Casey?”

“You said date... so I assumed... if not Casey... who?”

“Sophia,” he smiled to his friend’s consternation.

“Sophia? Who the fuck is Sophia?”

“I guess I hadn’t mentioned her. I treated her sister in the ER a couple months back...remember the gymnast from BU?”

“I don’t recall.”

“Her sister broke her leg during practice, and Sophia made it abundantly clear that she wanted to show her appreciation. I never called her because... well... I just didn’t. But last night, I figured, what the hell. Now... Saturday night, it is.”

“Jesus,” Sasha groaned, grabbing a slice of honey bread for herself. “You’ve spent the past eight months talking my ear off about Casey. Why the change up?”

“Because eight months is a long time, and Casey’s made it clear that she doesn’t want me that way. So, I’m done acting like some pathetic, lovesick schoolgirl. I don’t know what came over me to begin with.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Sasha insisted. “Love, you idiot. Love came over you.”

“Exactly!” He snapped his fingers. “Something I’ve always done my best to avoid, and it’s time I get back to that.”

“Tobias...” Sasha groaned.

“Tobias, nothing. This isn’t fun, Sash. All this time hoping for something that will never be, just to get my heart ripped out? Nuh-uh. I want to have fun again, and Sophia... she’s a sight to see. She’s up for partner at WilmerHale, and she’s sexy as hell. Old Tobias would have jumped on that months ago, and new Tobias is lucky dragging his ass didn’t ruin his chances.”

“So you’d rather be with Sophia than Casey?”

“Look... I don’t love Sophia, and I don’t want to. I want to kick back and have fun. Eight months pining over Casey – longest goddamn dry spell of my adult life – nope. I’m done.”

“T,” Sasha cringed. “I don’t need to know every detail of your life.”

“Trust me, I wish I didn’t know that little stat either! It’s time to get back in the game.”

“Did you even give Casey a chance to explain what you saw?”

“I know what I saw.”

“But it doesn’t sound like Casey at all. And... even if she was on a date... you two weren’t a couple. Tell her how you feel, and I guarantee she’ll forget about this other dude in a nanosecond.”

He pushed back from his desk, the bravado he was trying so hard to portray beginning to crack.

“Sorry, but after all the time we spent together, all the kisses and her ‘I’m just not ready yet’ professions....”

“Wait! The what?”

“Irrelevant!” He snapped. “If she’d rather be with some mid-white-bread radiologist from Edenbrook, she can have him.”

“Tobias, would you listen to yourself!”

A knock on the door distracted them, and Aurora entered the room, to Sasha’s delight. Feeling the tension, Aurora looked nervously between the two friends and colleagues.

“What’s going on here?”

“Nothing work-related,” Tobias grumbled. “Sasha was just leaving.”

“Tobias, you’re such an idiot!” Sasha turned to Aurora. “Perhaps you can reinforce that after I leave?”

“Uh...he is my boss.”

“And I’m in hospital administration. I can have you transferred to another attending tomorrow.”

“Really?” Aurora grinned. “We may have to talk.”

“Hey!” Tobias yelled. “She’s my best resident! Emery, sit down! You’re not going anywhere. Goodbye, Sasha.”

After reviewing their morning cases, Aurora silently looked over her notes as Tobias grew increasingly restless. He tapped his pen against his desk incessantly before blurting, “What?”

Aurora looked around in confusion. “What, what?”

“Why don’t you just say what you’re thinking and get it over with.”

“Because I have nothing to say. But if you plan on asking me about Casey, don’t. I’m jumping off the Tobias & Casey train.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m not discussing her with you, nor talking about you with her. You two could drive the sanest person crazy, and I’m done.”

“Fine!”

“Fine.”

But Tobias was anything but fine. No matter how hard he tried to focus he turned to Aurora again after a few minutes of typing jibberish.

“Was Casey all right last night?” he asked out of nowhere. Aurora didn’t even look up from her laptop.

“If you’re so curious, I suggest you call her and ask.”

“I don’t want to talk to her. I just want to know if she’s OK.”

“Then it seems you have a problem. Because, as I said, I got off that train. Especially since you’ve got a date with someone else this Saturday.”

Tobias looked up, stunned. “How... how did you know....”

“Your voice carries Dr. Carrick,” Aurora said, shutting her laptop with a thud. “I could hear you and Sasha talking halfway down the hall.”

“All right, so I have a date. I’m single; what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” Aurora agreed.

“Then, why the attitude?”

“Because I don’t get you. You’re one of the most intelligent people I know, a brilliant doctor, but when it comes to Casey, you act like a twelve-year-old. I understand this is probably predicated on fear and past issues, but if you don’t talk soon, you’ll both live to regret it.”

“There’s nothing to say; we’re just friends.”

“Fine,” Aurora rose to her feet. “Then don’t ask me about her. I like and respect you, Tobias, but mention Casey again and I’ll be talking to Sasha about that transfer.”

“You wouldn’t,” he challenged as Aurora reached the door.

“Oh no? Try me!”

~~~~~

Saturday night at eight o’clock, Casey was home from work and was eager for her own big plans: sweatpants, the couch, a pint of Haagen Dazs ice cream, and a spoon. Her friends would be there, too, she reminded herself, so it wasn’t that pathetic.

How the past week had dragged at a snail's pace yet also went by in a flash remained a mystery to her. But not communicating with Tobias since Sunday likely inspired the former. This was the longest they had gone without contact since the attack, and while she put on a brave face, it was eating her alive. Seeing his jovial posts on Instagram didn’t help. She took them as reinforcement of what she believed to be true. He didn’t want her. At least not the way she wanted him, and he probably never did. If heartbreak wasn't enough to cope with, feeling like a fool just added insult to injury.

“I really think he’s merely protecting himself,” Sienna stated as the friends tried to agree on a movie. “He’s probably as scared as you are. We all know he cared about you.”

“Cared,” Casey repeated, bringing another spoon of ice cream to her mouth. “Past tense.”

“But that’s not true,” Bryce jumped in. “I ran into him just before he went to Donahue’s. He was heading there to tell you how he felt. I didn’t say anything sooner because you were so upset, but you should know.”

“Really? Then why the 180? He wanted to tell me how much he cared but saw me sitting across the table from Jake and did an about-face? Then he didn’t care as much as he believed.”

“In fairness, you were holding the guy’s hand,” Sienna noted.

“Barely!” Casey snapped. “Besides! He should have known better.”

“Oh, for fucks sake!” Aurora groaned as all turned her way. “Casey, stop it. I swore I wouldn’t reenter the Tobias/Casey drama, but I can’t take this anymore. You’re not exactly innocent either.”

“Excuse me?”

“Maybe Tobias jumped to conclusions because you had been giving him the cold shoulder for a week before he saw you with Jake. He probably surmised that was the reason why!”

“But she only did that because of Audrey’s post,” Sienna defended.

“Yes!” Aurora acknowledged. “Because Casey thought he was on a date with Audrey, but guess what? He wasn’t. But you were quick to believe the worst and wouldn’t give him a chance to explain. Does that sound familiar?”

“I was going to ask him about Audrey's post when we had lunch the next day... but he canceled.”

“You were going to ask him a week later? Casey, I know you’re both scared, but you’re so afraid of getting hurt that you are hurt when you don’t have to be!”

“But he didn’t even let me finish a sentence. Every time I tried to explain, he shut me down!”

“And how many of his texts did you ignore after Audrey’s post?” Bryce asked. “You need to talk to him, Case, before you guys blow this for good.”

“Exactly!” Aurora agreed. “All these games, and now he’s on a real date, and who knows...” she froze mid-sentence, her eyes wide when she realized what she just said.

“A what?” Casey stammered. “A real date? With... with who?”

“OK,” Aurora lamented, rubbing her temples. “I don’t know with whom, but if you refuse to talk to him, you have no reason to be upset if he moves on. If you don’t want him to... talk to him!”

The pain in Casey’s eyes was visible as she jumped from the couch and retreated to her room... insisting no one follow her. She wasn’t sure why she ran there, though collapsing into bed for a good cry sounded appropriate. She got into position to do just that, but the tears never came. Her emotions were a roller coaster ride she hadn’t been prepared to take. Regret, sadness, anger, and despair shifted inside her by the second, leaving her lost and out of control. The only certainty was another sleepless night ahead, and she couldn’t afford that. Reaching for a Tylenol PM on her nightstand, anger took control once again. She looked at the clock, 11:00. It was early enough. She jumped out of bed and threw on the first clothes she could find, rushing out the door to stealthily evade her friends. Tobias Carrick might be on a date, but when he came home? He was going to have to answer to her.

~~~~~

Tobias looked himself over in his bedroom mirror before heading out for the night. He had to admit... in his black silk long-sleeved Brunello Cucinelli t-shirt and matching chalk stripe trousers, he looked damn good. He slipped on his Burberry overcoat and sprayed one more pump of Oud Wood cologne for good measure, a grin spreading across his face. He still had it, and as he headed out the door for his first date in longer than he cared to admit, that old Carrick confidence was falling into place again.

Sophia insisted on meeting him at Contessa, strongly suggesting that their separate arrivals didn’t dictate how they’d depart if dinner went well. When she arrived, Tobias was already seated at their table, and he had to give her credit; the woman knew how to make an entrance. Her smile lit up the room as she sauntered his way in a spaghetti-strapped burgundy cowl-necked dress that hugged every curve and directed the eye to her most impressive assets. Her dark brown curls framed her face and spilled down over her bare shoulders, and as she got closer, Tobias felt his apprehensions melting away. Perhaps this night wouldn't be so hard after all.

“Tobias,” Sophia smiled as he rose to greet her. Taking his hands in hers, she leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek. “You look wonderful tonight.”

“Me,” he simpered. “I lost any chance of being the hottest person in this room the second you walked in.”

“That’s OK. I’m fine being on a date with a man who comes in a very close second in that category,” she winked. “Can you handle that, Dr. Carrick?”

“Oh,” he grinned, motioning for the waiter to begin pouring the Volpaia Chianti Classico. “I can handle that and a lot more.”

“Good,” she smirked. “Then let the evening commence.”

Sophia was beautiful and captivating in every way. Her enthusiasm when discussing her quest to make partner at her firm or her little sister’s gymnastic career was endearing. And when Tobias spoke, she listened so intently he felt like the only person in the world. Things were going great... so why couldn’t he shake the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach? At any other time, he would have thought this date was off to a perfect start, but there was one big difference between this date and all the others in his storied career: this one took place after he had met Casey MacTavish.

Sophia looked over her shoulder when Tobias’s eyes lit up, and he waved at someone seated at the bar.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized. “That’s a board member from Kenmore. He and I have been playing phone tag for over a week, and I need to touch base with him regarding a grant we’ve been working on. Would you mind if I stepped over to speak with him? I promise I won’t be more than a couple of minutes.”

“Of course not!” Sophia replied. “Trust me, if I see one of the partners that will decide if I’m joining their ranks soon, I’ll ask you to return the favor.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

Sophia took a sip of wine and decided to check emails on her phone while she waited. When she reached for her phone, a text came in on Tobias’s, which he left face up on the table. While she wasn’t proud, Sophia did manage to sneak a peek. A local politician’s robotext asking for campaign donations. Benign enough! But her thoughts on the date took a turn when something else she saw piqued her interest.

Tobias returned quickly as promised, apologizing profusely for the interruption. But, ever the attorney, Sophia wasn’t wasting time getting to the point.

“Tobias, I have to ask... are you married?”

“What?” He choked, placing his wine glass back on the table with a shudder. “God, no!”

“Then do you have a girlfriend? Because if you do, I don’t play those games.”

“Sophia, I’m single as can be...trust me. Where is this coming from?”

Knowing honesty was her only option, she tapped a well-manicured nail on his phone.

“A text came in when you were gone, and I saw the beautiful blonde on your screensaver. Who is she? And please, don’t tell me she’s your sister. I won’t believe you, and that would be creepy as hell.”

A line appeared between his brows as he clicked on his phone, and there it was.

It had been his screensaver for some time, and he never thought to change it. But staring at it now, he was transported to another time as he recalled that day.

It wasn’t long after the chemical attack, and Casey had been having an especially tough day. Even a ride with a promise of ice cream from Honeycomb Creamery in Cambridge couldn't pull her from the darkness she found herself buried in. As they sat in his front seat licking their cones, he told her she could select his new screensaver. Her face lit up in an instant as she grabbed the phone from his hands, playfully sticking her tongue out as she posed. She was delighted with the blurry, off-centered, silly-faced photo and immediately set it as his screensaver.

Tobias loved that picture. Not only did he think she was stunning, but she was happy. For a moment in time, when gloom surrounded her, she found a moment of joy. She was happy... and that’s all he ever wanted for her. In the months that followed, Casey often told him he could change the screensaver, but he had no intention of doing so. Unbeknownst to her, he had made himself a promise. That screensaver would stay in place until it could be replaced by a picture of the two of them... once she was finally his. He didn’t care if it took a year or a decade; he would see it through.

“I guess I should have changed this,” he muttered. “I’m really sorry... I honestly forgot it was still there.”

But it was Sophia’s job to pay attention, and there was no way she could misinterpret his reaction.

“Is she your girlfriend? Or... an ex?”

“No,” he said sadly. “But I wanted her to be with all my heart.”

He looked up at Sophia, sincerity in his eyes. “We were just friends, close friends... I guess I always hoped we’d become more, but it wasn’t to be.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Even so... I just realized I'm not even close to being over her. I’m really sorry I dragged you into this, but... I need to get over Casey before I can move on with anyone else. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“At least you’re honest,” Sophia shrugged. “It’s not like you screwed me and ghosted me when regret set in the next morning. So, I have to give you some credit.”

“I’d never do that,” he said emphatically. But Sophia responded with a smirk.

“Seriously?”

“All right, I would never have wanted to do that,” he grinned. “Well, now that I’ve ruined our date, do you want to call it a night? I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

“Oh, hell no! You’re still treating me to dinner, Carrick! That’s the very least you can do!”

Tobias handed her a menu with a smile. “That’s more than fair, and please, feel free to order the most expensive items on the menu.”

“I assumed that was a given!” she smiled, reaching over the table to take his hand. “Why don’t we go the friend's route, Tobias. But... if time goes on, and this woman is too foolish to come to her senses and seal the deal with you, let me know when you’re ready. If I’m still on the market, I may give you a second chance.”

“Being friends sounds good,” he replied. “Though you’re quite a catch, I’m sure someone will snap you up before I come around.”

“Well, it will still be nice to have another friend,” she said with a squeeze of his hand.

Tobias looked at their entwined fingers just as they parted. The vision of Casey holding Jake’s hand popped into his mind... and he realized he had been a total fool.

~~~~~

Tobias had walked Sophia home hours before, but the thought of returning to his empty townhome wasn’t remotely appealing. He decided a long walk was in order; it might help with all the thinking he had to do. His mind was in a fog as he meandered down Boston’s gaslit streets, too overwhelmed to notice the dropping temperatures.

Every so often, something pulled him out of his fugue: a honking horn, music from a passing car, or a police siren whooshing by. Those he could handle, but it was the laughter of a couple passing by that sent him reeling. Their arms were wrapped around each other as they whispered sweet nothings into each other’s ears, leaving Tobias frozen in place.

How did things go so wrong? The past few months with Casey had him believing he had grown up, but when it came to matters of the heart, he still had plenty to learn. He didn’t know what the future held for him and Casey, but he knew the time of hiding had come to end. He needed to talk to her, to tell her the truth. No more treading water... it was time to move on, one way or another. He took his phone out of his pocket; it was already 11:30. Too late to start that conversation tonight, but he vowed to call her as soon as he woke up tomorrow. It was time.

He pulled his coat closer as he turned onto his street, his clarity of thought finally making him aware of the cold; he was grateful he only had a half block to go. But as he neared his home, he squinted, trying to make out the blurry figure on his steps. His heart skipped a beat when she came into focus... wearing no more than a sweater and a pair of tights, Casey sat shivering on his front steps. Head buried in her hands, she didn’t see him approach, and she was startled at his words.

“Casey?” He blurted. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” she said, jumping to her feet in a visibly emotional state. “I was about to ask you the same thing!”

“Uh... I live here,” he said with confusion.

“I know that!” she snapped. “But you’re not supposed to be here! Or at least, you’re not supposed to be here alone!”

“Casey,” he huffed. “What are you talking about?”

She marched up to him, pounding her hand against his chest. “You had a date!” she fumed. “A freaking date!” Tears welled in her eyes as she continued. “How the hell could you have been on a real date tonight?”

“How did you even know... Aurora...” he grumbled.

“How I know is unimportant! What’s important is that you were on a date!” She struggled to hold back a sob as she continued. “So, how was it? I’m your good friend Casey, right? So you can tell me! Was it fun? Where’d you go? Did you take her anyplace we’ve ever gone together?”

“Casey, stop!” he exclaimed, reaching for her arm. But Casey jolted away as if his touch would sear her.

“No!” She hollered. “Answer me! Who was she? Is she pretty? Did you sleep with her?” She turned on her heel and began to pace, her hands flailing about. “Well, that’s a stupid question!” She spat. “Of course you slept with her! You’re Tobias Carrick!”

“What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he chided, with a flash of anger in his eyes.

“You have a reputation, T! Everyone knows you’ve banged anyone you’ve ever dated – and god knows how many you didn’t even bother to date! Oh, everyone except for me, that is! I guess that makes me special, huh? You hear that, Boston?” She declared. “It’s me! I’m the one person Tobias Carrick dated and didn’t fuck! I’m more rare than a goddamn unicorn!”

“Casey, stop it!” He exclaimed. “Yes, I had a date tonight. But it ended before it began and, no... I didn’t sleep with her!”

“You... you didn’t,” she whimpered.

“No! I didn’t!” He said, frustration mounting. But frustration or not, all he wanted to do was scoop Casey up in his arms and never let her go, and it took everything in him not to see that through. He may have been able to ignore his desires, but he couldn’t ignore how her body trembled in the cold. He began to remove his coat, “Casey, you’re shivering; please take....”

“I don’t want your coat!”

“Then... then come inside and warm up a bit. It’s freezing out here.”

“No! I don’t want to!”

Exasperated, he threw his head back with a groan. “Then what do you want? Why did you come here? To scream at me? Insult me? Because if that’s all you want, I’ll call an Uber to get you home."

“I came here tonight because you were on a date!” She cried. “I was sure you’d bring her home, and I needed to see it with my own eyes.”

“What? Why? Why would you want to do that?”

“Because I love you!” She yelled, the shocked look on her face making it clear she was as surprised by her words as he was.

“You... you... what?”

She wanted to run, but there was no place to go now that the cat was out of the bag. She wiped her nose with her sleeve and summoned the courage to continue.

“I love you, Tobias. I love you.” She said through tears. “And if you don’t love me, then I need to know so I can move on. Because... I love you. I’m sorry I told you like this,” she rambled. “I never wanted to tell you like this, and maybe I shouldn’t have told you at all, but it’s too late now. I... I love you. I’ve loved you for....”

Maybe it was the shock, or perhaps because he moved with the speed of a gazelle, but Casey never saw him coming. Before she knew it, his arms encircled her, their lips came crashing together, and they gave in to the burning passion that had been ignited in them for so long. Neither wanted to let. Letting go might prove that this was just another dream. But this time, the bright smiles on their faces confirmed... they were very much awake. Tobias let out a grunt as their lips came together again, lifting Casey off her feet, she giggled t as he spun her around, placing her back down again against his gate.

“You... you love me?” he gushed, joy radiating from his face.

“I do!” Casey beamed. “I love you so very much.”

“Thank God,” he gasped, pressing his forehead against hers. “Because I love you Casey... I love you so much I swear, it hurts!”

She reached up and caressed his cheek, then his jawbone, gazing into his crystal blue eyes as if she were seeing them for the very first time.

“Love’s not supposed to hurt,” she smiled.

“Then let’s make a deal, from this moment on, you and me... we’re all about love without the hurt. Can we do that?”

“I’m in... I’m in if you are,” she grinned.

“I am SO in! Casey, my date earlier today ended practically before it began because the truth is, I want you and only you. Today, tomorrow, for the rest of my days. I want you, Casey Mactavish. I love you... and you have no idea how great it feels to finally say those words out loud.”

“I love you, too,” she cried, pulling him into a fiery kiss that melted the winter’s cold.

Tobias began to chuckle as his hands dropped to Casey's waist. Mid-kiss, Casey pulled back with a smirk.

“Why are you laughing about?”

“If I tell you... you have to promise to not get mad.”

Casey raised a brow and gave him a teasing look. “Oh, you’ve got my attention... you have to tell me now.”

“Having you in my arms... it feels like a dream... but....”

“But?”

“Can I grab your ass, Casey? Because God knows, I’ve been dying to grab your ass. I’ve dreamt about it, and if you’re OK with it....”

“Fine! Fine, fine, fine,” she laughed. “You can grab my ass, Tobias!.”

Without hesitation, he lowered a hand to her left butt cheek and gave a generous squeeze. Casey couldn't help but giggle as a grin spread across his face.

“There! Was that everything you imagined it would be?"

“Everything and more,” he growled.

“So,” she said, after another kiss. “Is that all you/ve been imagining doing with me... or is there more?”

“Oh, hell no,” he laughed. “I have a very active imagination, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

“Well, then,” she cooed, running her fingers down his lapel. “If the offer still stands... can we go inside? Maybe you could show me some of those... other things?”

Casey was right earlier that night—sleep was not to be had—but this time, neither she nor Tobias minded one bit.

Just before the crack of dawn, they lay together in his bed, Casey blissfully sleeping under his protective arm. Careful not to disturb her, Tobias reached for his phone to check the time, and there it was staring back at him... Casey’s goofy screensaver.

He held his sleeping girlfriend closer. No, they hadn’t had that conversation yet, but it was the first thing he planned to do when they woke. But he was confident—Casey was his girlfriend. He pulled her closer and snapped a quick selfie of them, immediately making it his new screensaver—a promise had been kept.

Placing the phone at his side, he rolled over and spooned behind his love, kissing the top of her head, he whispered.

“Good night, my love."

His love. At long last, Casey was his. He was hers. And he fell asleep soundly at her side, knowing that their new life had just begun.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

#open heart #open heart fanfic #tobias carrick #tobias carrick x mc #tobias x casey #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #open heart choices #choices open heart #choices the stories you play #choices fanfic #the end!

40 notes · View notes

kiaratheronappreciationweek · 15 days

Text

We're on Day 3 of KTAW now, and there are two amazing themes lined up for you!!

As everyone who has ever read the series knows, Kiara is a polyglot. With a real passion for languages. So much so that she has managed to learn not one, not two - but ten of them!!! So tomorrow, we will be focusing on Languages!

Kiara's home, Castelserraillan, is also well known for its vineyards. Her mother Joelle was the main force behind this particular passion, and the entire family has an extensive knowledge on the subject. In fact, Kiara had even told Drake once that she "prefers wine to cocktails". So it is only fitting that we have a theme revolving around the subject of Wine!

Any content is welcome!! Just make sure your work centers Kiara, and presents a positive depiction of her. Fic, art, meta, headcanons, edits, icons, interactive media, even simple character appreciation posts!! We also accept WIPs, so if your piece isn't entirely complete by the end of the week, fret not - you can still send us the WIPs!

The themes are simply inspirations. If you bring a piece for one of the days later, it's entirely okay...just make sure you tag the posts with the day you meant it for! We will always be keeping a bonus week in case you couldn't complete the piece during the week itself, so our official deadline for pieces will be June 1st!

We'd also like all of you to know that KTAW 2024 will be open ALL YEAR ROUND. So if you're unable to finish a piece before June 1st, pls do send it whenever you're ready to (and tag us!), and it will definitely be up on our masterlist!!

Be sure to follow these rules while making your posts:

1. Use the tags #kiaratheronappreciationweek and #KTAW in your posts. Make sure to tag the day as well (#KTAW Day 1, #KTAW Day 2, etc)

2. Tag @kiaratheronappreciationweek as well as hosts @lizzybeth1986 and @sazanes in your work!

Fan Community blogs are super important to our promotion of events, so we'd definitely love for you to check out some of these awesome blogs and their challenges:

@choicesficwriterscreations - Primarily fanfic and fanart (no AI allowed). Check out their rules and roster of events!

@choicesmonthlychallenge and @choicesmaychallenge24 - Any and all content welcome! This month's prompts are delightfully Greek mythology-themed!

@choicespride - Any and all content welcome, as long as it centers LGBTQ+ characters and/or themes! They will be hosting this year's pride event soon!

@choicesholidays - Any and all content welcome, as long as it is centered around one of the holidays listed! Currently, they are hosting Spring Fling!

@choicesprompts - Any and all content welcome! Currently no events, but you could check out all the cool stuff they've been up to so far!

@choicescommunityevents - Any and all art welcome as long as it is on-theme! Currently hosting the AAPI Heritage Month!

SO excited to see all your entries!!!

Happy Kiara Theron Appreciation Week, everyone!!

#kiara theron #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #kiaratheronappreciationweek #KTAW #KTAW 2024 #KTAW Day 3 #KTAW Day 3: Languages #KTAW Day 3: Wine

29 notes · View notes

liaromancewriter · 21 days

Text

It Happened One Miami Night (5/5)

Series Premise: A work trip to Miami means finally accepting that some risks are worth taking. Or are they?

Fandom: Choices Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Angsty Fluff Words: 1,125

Series Masterlist

A/N: Finally we come to the end of this series (the longest I've ever taken to write one). If you've read it so far, thank you! I appreciate it. If you haven't, see the series masterlist link above 👆🏻😉

Submission to @choicesmaychallenge24 prompt "Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. (The Illiad)"

What did it mean when a man went from depriving himself on a moonlit balcony to aching for a lover’s scent in the dark? That, for a few heavenly moments, he’d been willing to take the risk, steal the girl, even when he knew he shouldn’t?

Unable to sleep as useless thoughts crowded his brain, Ethan Ramsey folded one arm behind his head and stared at the shadows dancing on the dark ceiling.

He bent his knee and pulled his bare feet back under the covers. The pull-out couch in the living room wasn’t designed for tall frames, and his feet hung off the edge whenever he stretched his legs.

The silence in the hotel suite was deafening. But Ethan was also hyperaware of Cassie Valentine sleeping on the other side of the thin wall separating the living space from the bedroom.

He turned on his side, punching the pillow, and watched his reflection in the glass pane of the door leading to the balcony — the scene of his downfall. A reminder of his weakness.

Never before had a woman tempted him like this. In recent years, he’d become particular about who shared his bed. But he certainly wasn’t a monk. He enjoyed sex and, depending on the woman, the intimacy that followed.

What was that line from The Illiad? Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed.

And that was the real kicker. Despite his early rationalizations, Cassie wasn’t the right woman. Maybe once she finished her residency — and if she stayed in Boston — they could have a chance. Once they were peers. Equals.

But as long as she was in the running to join his team…. He sighed.

Even if she didn’t get the fellowship, he wanted to be responsible for her professional development. When he observed her around the hospital, often from a distance to preserve his objectivity, he saw a doctor who could be great with the proper guidance.

She’d told Delarosa she chose Edenbrook because of him. He’d selected Cassie because he’d seen the potential in her application. He owed her the best of him.

That was that, as far as he was concerned. From now on, he would keep things professional. He was an attending and had to set an example.

First thing tomorrow, he was going down to the reception desk and forcing the issue until the hotel gave them separate rooms. Ethan exhaled, closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep.

He had a plan. He could do this!

The sun was high in the sky when Ethan’s eyes drifted open. Groggy from oversleeping and late-night musings, he yawned loudly and shoved the covers aside, feet falling onto the carpeted floor.

He grabbed his wristwatch from the coffee table and stilled at the envelope with his name scrawled across the front. His lips were pursed as he removed the notepaper tucked inside. Stunned, he read the hastily written words, his mind in shambles again.

Cassie sipped coffee from her to-go cup and watched the view from the window of her new hotel room. It was definitely not as lovely as the couples’ suite—there was no balcony either—but it was the safer option.

During a restless night, she’d come to a decision. She couldn’t avoid Ethan forever; that would be counterproductive to her goal of becoming a doctor. But she needed space from him for what remained of this trip.

Knowing hotels always kept inventory for last-minute bookings, Cassie pulled up the property’s website and reserved the first available option. The room was small—barely the size of her bedroom in Boston—but it was hers, and hers alone.

When she saw Ethan next, she’d be strictly professional (even if it killed her) and pretend that she hadn’t felt his hardness when she straddled his thighs. It might be cowardly, but faking temporary amnesia never hurt anyone.

For a moment, everything between them had been legendary, from one kiss to almost going all the way. And then it had come crashing down, like the waves below, washing away everything in their wake and leaving behind flotsam.

Cassie knew it wouldn’t be easy. But she couldn’t break down now. She’d already done that last night, and it was enough.

In a few days, she’d look back and know it wasn’t hopeless, that it wasn’t their time yet. She wouldn’t be a resident forever, and his excuses wouldn’t hold up then.

Just get through today, tonight and tomorrow, she repeated to herself like a mantra.

Her phone pinged the arrival of an email. Her breath caught in her throat as she glanced at the screen, only to release it when she realized it wasn’t Ethan. Check-in for the return flight was now open.

Cassie thought about it, clicked on the email, waited for the website to load and logged in to complete the process. She quickly changed her assigned seating, likely beside Ethan’s, selecting a single seat at the back of the first-class cabin.

She reminded herself that it was better this way and, as a precaution, took a screenshot of the confirmation message.

That done, she grabbed her bag, checked that her conference pass was tucked inside, and left the hotel room with her morose mood behind.

She could do this, she consoled herself as she stepped into the elevator. She was a Valentine, for Christ’s sake! Perseverance was practically the family motto!

---

Ethan glanced surreptitiously at Cassie. This was the first time he’d been alone with her since that night on the balcony. He’d caught glimpses of her weaving through the crowds, but aside from texts to coordinate their departure, she’d been out of touch.

They were in the back of a cab heading to the airport for their early morning flight, dawn breaking through the rain clouds that had moved in overnight. She was staring out the window; her face turned away from him, lost in her thoughts.

He’d worried about seeing her as they met in the lobby after check-out. Concerned that she’d mention what had happened between them. Demand that they discuss it or reproach him for taking advantage of her, something.

But she hadn’t done any of those things; she just gave him a small smile and walked out the revolving doors.

His gaze had sharpened at her calm, practically indifferent attitude. As if twenty-four before, he hadn’t cupped her breasts in his palms, thumbed her nipples or devoured her lips.

Ethan thought it was for the best. They didn’t need to say anything that hadn’t already been said. This time away from time was coming to an end. When they returned to Boston, things would go back to normal.

He was an attending. She was a resident. Strictly professional.

A/N2: Want to know what happened once they returned to Boston? Check out Words We Never Say.

When I planned this series, I wanted to ensure it fit within the narrative of previous Miami-adjacent fics: Out of Control, SOS: A Text Fic (last section) and Words We Never Say. This way, it's a continuation and not a stand-alone.

---------

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

@lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb

@quixoticdreamer16 @justyourusualash @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart choices #open heart fanfiction #playchoices #open heart fanfic #choices fanfic #choices fanfiction #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #ethan ramsey x cassie valentine

23 notes · View notes

lizzybeth1986 · 14 days

Text

A Child of Babel

Book: The Royal Romance

Characters: Kiara-centric. Hints of Drake x Kiara (unrequited) and Hana x Kiara.

Word Count: 3, 484 words

Summary: The five times Kiara uttered the proverb of a language under her breath, and the two times she did it to someone's face.

A/N: I really wanted to try out a 5+1 fic format but somehow it became a 6+1 fic instead haha

Tagging @kiaratheronappreciationweek for KTAW Day 3: Languages, @choicesficwriterscreations for FoTW, @choicesmaychallenge24 for Hermes: Travel

Wolof

Princesses Lerato and Lesidi will never forget the exact moment they knew Lady Kiara Thorne would become their friend.

At lunch today, it was hard initially to tell if the meal today was to her liking. She'd made all the right noises, said all the right words. Rich. Meaty. What bold flavours. But how does that count? She's the kind of girl who has likely been coached enough in courtly propriety and gastrodiplomacy (at age 11. Eleven!), that you can't quite tell if she genuinely enjoyed the food or just wanted to please her hosts.

The sisters shift uncomfortably in their plush seats at the dining hall of their palace, their eyes barely leaving the young girl's plate. Benachin jollof rice was hardly for the weak of heart (or stomach) but that never stopped the royal family of Orphys from showing pride in this particular dish. It was, after all, the jewel in the crown of their ancestral Senegambian cuisine.

So it would pierce the Orphysian soul to its core, in very specific ways, if one didn't like their jollof. Probably just as much as it would shatter a Cordonian's spirit, if you told them you thought their Cordonian Rubies tasted vile.

"Ohhh," Lady Kiara mumbled, visibly relaxed at last. "Xifuma wante samay bët suruñuuuuu". The final word comes out elongated by a leisurely moan of satisfaction. I’m not hungry but my eyes aren’t full.

For a moment, the two girls are stunned to stillness in their chairs.

Little Kiara - Lerato is beginning to recognise - is trying to utter an old Wollof proverb about the joys of their ancestral cuisine. It's said so softly you can barely hear her, and both she and her sister can hazard a guess as to why.

Of the five words said, she pronounced three wrong. Kiara knew that, and felt ashamed.

The sisters pass each other a look of knowing affection. Not many in Europe, outside of Orphys, know this proverb that well. It is indeed the kind of phrase you will chance upon only if you've been consistently trying to learn.

She had to have been learning for over a year to get to this point.

Terrible pronunciation be damned. Next time they meet Kiara again, Lerato and Lesidi sure as hell know they're gifting her the recipe.

French

"Dammit," Kiara hisses at...well...no one in particular, and especially not to the retreating figure of her longtime (and forever clueless) crush. Now that he's gone, the urge to kick herself is becoming increasingly more difficult to suppress.

Drake Walker's loose overshirt flaps against his back as he walks out of the stable, in quick, sure, decisive footsteps. There has always been some sense of purpose in his movements whenever he leaves someplace, even if - to Kiara's knowledge - he hasn't exactly had a job as such ever since that stint he took at the stables the summer she turned fifteen.

It's almost as if that is the only thing he's certain he wants to do here. Leaving.

Kiara presses her head against the door of the stable, his fists balled up so she can resist the unnecessarily dramatic urge to bang it against the wood. She's done everything - everything her admittedly-gauche, relatively-inexperienced 18 year old brain could think of - to catch his attention.

Educate herself on horses (for obvious reasons).

Read up on woodworking (Olivia had mentioned once in passing that he adored good carpentry - nothing much was said about whether he liked practicing. Still, not a bad idea for a conversation starter)

Tried to enjoy whiskey. (Didn't get past half a mug, unfortunately. It was...interesting. She treated herself to her favourite bottle of Tempranillo later).

Came to the stables today for what she tried to pass off as a friendly chat about the winning stakes at the upcoming Derby. (She could have been talking to a haystack for all it mattered. He just looked up from his saddle tack set, took off his disgustingly well-disguised earphones, raised his eyebrows and said, "You were saying something??" before leaving without an answer)

(She'd worked so fucking hard to sound like she knew what she was talking about)

Kiara groans again against the door, weakly punching it one final time before she opens it, muttering furiously underneath her breath.

"Just give it up, Kiki," she scolds herself, hands jammed into the pockets of her coat. "C'est comme pisser dans un violon."

"Eww," a high-pitched, rather sweet voice says behind her, "That sounds like an...uncomfortably specific preference for a place to piss."

Kiara tries - and fails - to hide her grimace. On any other day, she'd be proud of Savannah for coming this far in just a few months. She's certain that her dear friend's rather successful attempt at translation is more a miracle of guesswork. A combination of remembering the few words she has been taught so far, and figuring out the ones that sound closer to their English counterparts.

(And that is how it must be. That is how Kiara knows that Savannah is serious about learning this language)

On any other day she'd praise her. But today... today she just wants to erase the last ten minutes from her brain. The last person she wants to know about her deep, tragic humiliation is the sister of the man who had crushed her umpteenth attempt to impress him to dust. With his fucking headphones.

"Forget you ever heard that," Kiara mumbles, "come, let's go see what snacks they have for tea. I'm starving."

Darija

On the day Prince Leo and his fiancée, Countess Madeleine, visit Castelserraillan after their engagement tour, there are only two members of the Thorne family waiting to receive the entourage. Kiara, and her father.

Ezekiel is barely - if ever - noticed and he would rather leave it that way. But Maman...they had to create a story for her.

The official excuse is that she'll be hosting an immensely important international art fair around the same time - one that heralded the work of Cordonia's local artisans. One that was time-sensitive and couldn't possibly be shifted around, Crown Prince or no.

In reality, her mind had been made up, the moment Lady Kaouther - the young woman her parents had sponsored for the social season this year - returned to the province in tears, swearing to never set foot in the Capitol again, reluctant to even tell Maman and Baba what had gone so wrong.

But Maman had found out anyway. The press was loath to criticize the countess' treatment of her ladies-in-waiting, drooling like sick horses over every scrap of charm and quotable quote she threw their way.

But when Ana de Luca is close enough to you to have your number of speed dial, there's no end to the tea that'll be willingly spilled at your table.

Poor Kaouther was still getting threats and harassment from afar. Mostly to keep her mouth shut about her former employer's exploits. Both midly annoying and deeply sadistic. Both sober and rum-fuelled. Some may be impressed at how Countess Madeleine managed to maintain such secrecy, from even the royal family she is marrying into.

Maman cursed and swore she would never entertain a viper like that in her presence, and who could blame her?

Kiara swallows as she sees the entourage approached. Baba knew his relationship with the royal family was already hanging by a frighteningly precarious balance. He couldn't afford any further damage, and he hardly wanted to expose Madeleine's misdeeds without Kaouther's consent either.

So yes. They were going to go through the motions of greeting the royal entourage. They were going to be perfect hosts. But Madeleine would know. Madeleine would hear their words - cascading in waves of poisoned honey - and know. And be unable to tell anyone anything. That will be Kiara's unsaid, unheard promise to Kaouther, and to herself.

The Countess is stopped by the press before she walked over to their manor, her smile perfectly in place and her hand on a rather diffident Prince Leo's arm as she answers their questions. Yes, we are in love. Yes, our economy is strong. Yes, my aim is to build strong relationships with my people wherever I go. To let them know I do it all for them, and them alone. To be the Queen that Cordonia needs, that my subjects can trust.

Kiara has never heard so much horseshit spill out of a courtier's mouth, and she's been part of enough royal courts to see the worst.

"Shakuwn daha fik alhurirat 'aw albalbulat nahar aleid!" Kiara says roughly in Darija as the entourage - led by the Crown Prince and his future consort - approach. She thinks she's so special, but really she's only about as special as a plain harrira soup served at an Eid-ul-Fitr banquet.

Hakim gently nudges his daughter's shoulder with his own. "But ya Babba," he teases, probably to lighten her mood a little before the group arrives, "I thought you liked harrira soup."

Kiara gives Madeleine one last glare before schooling her face to a more neutral expression.

Her next words are going to be quite nasty by Castelserraillan standards, but for all the sacrifices they are making today her father can surely afford her this one luxury. "Not if it wears a face as sour as her's."

Greek

Just a five minute break, Penelope had promised, thirty minutes ago.

Kiara has only herself to blame for believing that nonsense, after being in close quarters with her for an entire month - but there's something about that woman that makes most people want to keep giving her the benefit of the doubt.

('Me,' Kiara wants to say, 'I'm people')

The beam she is carrying for the barn-raising is small, but heavy enough that you'd get tired out quickly if you didn't take help. By ten minutes Kiara has to will herself to move ahead. By fifteen her thighs begin to cramp, and by twenty her head is swimming and she has a brief spiteful thought about making Penelope carry twenty beams as a belated apology. Though knowing her (and it pains Kiara to admit this; she likes Penelope too much) she would find some way to make herself the victim.

Thirty minutes have passed now, and the only energy she has left is wasted in gritting her teeth and groaning "Just...a few more...steps...till I can drop this...stupid plank...Mon Dieu!!!"

Kiara's mind goes blank for several seconds as she feels the weight of the beam falling on her, a dull pain already throbbing on her ankle.

"Ohhh thée mou," she hears a rough, gravelly, rather disgruntled voice above her, its sound causing her heartbeats to pound violently in her chest and its owner already using his strong, strong hands to save her...

"Ópios den théli na zimósi," she whispers, completely drained, "déka méres koskinízi."

It's a proverb Kiara has often heard in the Capitol - specifically for procrastinators - and she has now lost count of the number of times Penelope has left something she doesn't like to do "for later"...often leading Kiara to finish the job alone.

Drake stares back at her, confused. Mentally, she kicks herself. Again.

Of course. She should've known. Drake Walker is familiar enough with Greek that he'll maybe cuss or blurt out a phrase he'd learned from his childhood in the palace, but clearly he has no patience for metaphors, allegories, idioms or proverbs.

"Oh, uh...merci beaucoup," she backtracks, awkwardly.

Drake shakes his head - his eyes, amused, still on her face - and throws the beam away. It doesn't mean much, but that ten-second glance is fuel enough at this point for a month's worth of dreams.

Almost as if from a great distance, she thinks she can hear Esther's voice, low and concerned. "Kiara? Are you okay??"

Kiara locks eyes with Drake, and for once he meets her gaze. Doesn't say anything, doesn't even show a reaction - but at least he isn't looking away like she doesn't matter.

She smiles brightly. "I am now."

Gujarati/Mandarin

Married as they have been for six months now, Kiara can tell by several small, subtle signs when Hana is nervous.

Not that Hana makes observing a very hard task, not at all. She has an immensely expressive face.

Kiara massages the soft parts of her palm - just the way she likes it - while Hana takes several deep breaths.

"This is the first Parsi wedding I'll be attending, ever," Hana says slowly. "The bride is my cousin. This is supposed to be my family, and yet all of this feels as alien as if I never had a mother from this community." She closes her eyes then opens them again, gazing at the wedding sign on the gate. Delnaaz weds Zubin. "What if I mess this up?"

"You won't," Kiara takes both Hana's hands in hers. "And even if you do make a sliver of a mistake, Delnaaz is not going to judge you. And she's the bride; she's the one who matters. She's nothing like your mother or your uncle Cyrus."

Hana lets out a shaky laugh. "God I hope not." Her finger strokes lightly against Kiara's cheek. "One last kiss? For luck?"

Kiara presses her forehead against Hana's after they're done, sighing gently. Mon Dieu, how I love this woman.

"Remember that saying you hear from practically all the nice people in Bethulia," Kiara winds her arms around Hana's waist. "It's so prolific they should start painting it on their coat-of-arms. In Gujarati."

"Khavanu, pivanu, majja ni life." They both laugh gently as they whisper the phrase, hugging each other tighter. Eat, drink and be merry, indeed.

Hana seems to take that advice to heart once they go in, and most of the family (whether enthusiastically, or under duress - the latter perhaps a result of Delnaaz having a stern talking-to with relatives who had rejected Hana earlier) openly welcomes Hana into the fold.

The wedding goes terrifically: Delnaaz appears resplendent in a gorgeous white silk-and-lace Parsi Gara sari (that, Hana informs her, has been the family heirloom for five generations now), her (now) husband looking very distinguished in his white dagli and a black fetah atop his head. Once she finds herself comfortable among people who should treat her like family, Hana practically shines in her interactions - scintillating at conversations, singing and dancing and joking with the rest when she can.

Her Gujarati is a little shaky still, but that's hardly a problem. After all, this is the first language we're going to learn together, ma moitié, Kiara had reassured her once.

A few hours later, when the party started winding down, Hana and Kiara shifted to a smaller, more secluded alcove within the wedding venue. Dinyar - another of Hana's Bethulian cousins - pointed it out to Kiara, whispering conspiratorily that very few in the wedding party noticed this place at all and they could have all the privacy they wanted. Hana made sure they carried a sweet along.

And so here they are, now, inside a romantic little gazebo, sitting together - Hana taking a spoonful of Lagan nu Custard and raising it to Kiara's lips. They close their eyes as they savour. Silky. Creamy. Decadent.

"Look at us, playing hooky at an event when you were so worried about behaving right just yesterday. Yet won't you say this little moment by ourselves was the best one?"

Hana winks. "You know me so well."

"Only as well as you do, darling," she says, cupping Hana's cheek, "My soulmate."

When they kiss, Kiara can taste hints of cardamom and nutmeg on Hana's tongue. She laughs into their kiss.

"Zài tiān yuàn zuò bǐ yì niǎo..." Kiara says, the grin hardly leaving her face when they part.

"...zài dì yuàn zuò lián lǐ zhī!" Hana wipes the last bit of custard on the tip of Kiara's nose, then uses that as an excuse to gently bite it off her.

They tighten their arms around each other. That saying has always been a favourite with both of them.

In heaven let us be two birds flying ever together, and on earth two trees with branches interlocked forever.

Bonus: English (with a tiny side serving of Cajun French)

Queen Esther seems almost transformed when their entourage sets foot in Louisiana. In some ways, she seems even more at home here than she had ever seemed even in New York. And to think, everyone thought that place was her home!

"It is," she'd explained once, when Kiara had asked her, "but NOLA was where I was born. I spent my entire childhood here. A part of me will always remain here."

She takes them to an old favourite of her parents', a mom-and-pop shop that's still miraculously standing and - according to Esther - that still possesses the same incredible flavours. Hana is already all praise for the gumbo and the bananas foster.

"Try the beignets, Hana," Esther suggests, her eyes sparkling at her open joy. "Dip them in the hot chocolate. Best that way!"

She does...and next thing they know, Hana's best friend and wife are treated to a happy dance on a chair.

Kiara's eyes are set on what seems to be a more humble (but moist, glistening, crisp on the outside!) preparation. A croquette of some sort?

"Boulettes de chevrette," the server replies, closely watching her face.

"...shrimp?" Kiara says, after a pause too significant for Esther to miss. The server nods.

"You certainly took a little extra time to mentally translate that," she says. "Is it called something else in French?"

"Yes," Kiara replies, "We call it crevette. But that's not the part I find interesting."

Intrigued, Esther raises an eyebrow, nodding at her companion to continue.

She clears her throat. "I'm beginning to find that certain words in your French have retained their original form from older versions of our language. And with others, they've evolved over time into different words, while in our language that word remained the way it was. Chevrette was what we used to call shrimp before we started using the Norman regional variant, crevette."

"Oh wow," Esther says, amazed, "I had no clue."

Kiara smiles. "Now you do."

Later that evening, the queen confides in her.

"You know...I used to be nervous speaking French in front of you."

Kiara's eyebrows are knit together in confusion. "Pourquoi?? You spoke very well."

Esther sighs. "It's silly."

"Tell me all the same."

Esther laughs, almost as if at the foolishness of her younger self. "I thought you'd make fun of me for "speaking French all wrong". That you'd look down on me."

Kiara's heart sinks to her stomach. "Did I really sound that snotty back then?"

"Oh no. No," Esther reassures her. "Especially not with languages."

Kiara is familiar enough with Esther now to teasingly nudge her arm a little with her elbow. "At least not unless you're asking me to sleep with you. You can't imagine how many people would just say voulez vouz coucher avec moi ce soir to my face, and think they could get away with it. And this was even before Hana introduced me to Lady Marmalade!"

Esther rolls her eyes, chuckling ruefully. "I introduced her to that one."

The laughter doesn't last very long. Lines of humour then dissolve into lines of tension on Esther's face. She isn't quite done explaining yet. "I guess I was just...feeling a little out of place. So I may have projected a little back then."

Kiara nodded. She did remember how hard that season, and the subsequent engagement tour (which she often things of with a little regret), had been on Esther. And she'd never allowed those fears and insecurities to show on her face. "That makes sense," she says, "but you know there's this saying I read a while ago..."

"What?" Esther asks, her curiosity now piqued.

"'We should learn languages because language is the only thing worth knowing even poorly.' It's a quote by a Hungarian translator mamed Kató Lomb."

Esther seems to open her mouth to protest the appropriateness of the quote, when Kiara stops her. "For the record, it doesn't correctly apply to your use of Cajun French. That is a dialect. It has its own rules. En vrai, I'd love to learn more."

The Queen relaxes, even smiling at the casual reference to her - something she knows Kiara will only use when she's sure they are friends.

"I'm just saying that even if you did get phrases in a language wrong, that wouldn't be reason enough for me to scoff at you. I'd be a hypocrite if I did that. After all, I wouldn't be this good at ten languages if I weren't constantly making mistakes."

As she often does since that eventful first meeting in Orphys, she remembers the kindness Lerato and Lesidi showed her, despite her terrible, terrible attempt at saying something in Wolof. The recipe for Senegambian-style jollof, that they gave her the next time she had visited their kingdom, still holds pride of place in her personal collection of precious things.

"I think what I'm saying is," she says, taking a deep breath, "when you make mistakes but the result is that I'm hearing a new language come out of your mouth, it's a wonderful thing. To me, it means you want to learn. And everyone's pace is different, so I'm no one to judge if you take more time to learn it than on someone else. There is never anything wrong with that."

Esther smiles again, softer this time, and more admiringly. "Noted," she says softly. "And we should definitely pack some fried alligator and remoulade sauce from here to snack on later."

Kiara grins. Her mouth is already watering. "We certainly will."

Translations:

Xifuma wante samay bët suruñu (Wolof) - I’m not hungry but my eyes aren’t full (basically the food is really really delicious). Source: Grace in Senegal

C'est comme pisser dans un violon! (French) - It's like pissing inside a violin! (Used to describe something useless and ineffective, or to complain about not being listened to after asking somebody to do something. Pissing in a violin is ineffective, it won't make a sound.) Source: Untranslatable

شكون داها فيك الحريرة (أو البلبولة) نهار العي

(Darija)

Describing someone who is incredibly pleased with themselves, but in actuality they are like Harrira on Eid al Fitr. Used to criticize someone who thinks very highly of themselves but has no justifiable reason to do so. Kind of like saying "you think you're hot shit in a champagne glass when you are really cold diarrhea in a Dixie cup". To explain the cultural context a little, Harrira is the soup Moroccans eat every day during Ramadan. On Eid, it stays in the fridge and people eat a lot of sweets. Source: Arabic Easy Language blog

Όποιος δεν θέλει να ζυμώσει, δέκα μέρες κοσκινίζει (Greek) - "Whoever does not want to knead, sifts for ten days". It is used to describe a procrastinator who finds every reason not to engage with their assigned task. Source: GreekPod 101.

Khavanu, pivanu, majja ni life (Gujarati) - khavanu refers to eating, pivanu refers to drinking, majja ni life means life is fun/amazing or to enjoy life. So it's basically "eat, drink and make merry". It's a popular Gujarati saying, I think, but it's associated most with the Parsi community.

在天愿作比翼鸟，在地愿为连理枝。(Mandarin) - In heaven as two birds flying together, On earth as two trees with branches interlocked forever. Basically a romantic proverb about soulmates. Source: China Plus

Notes:

The full quote from Kató Lomb goes like this:

"We should learn languages because language is the only thing worth knowing even poorly. If someone knows how to play the violin only a little, he will find that the painful minutes he causes are not in proportion to the possible joy he gains from his playing. The amateur chemist spares himself ridicule only as long as he doesn’t aspire for professional laurels. The man somewhat skilled in medicine will not go far, and if he tries to trade on his knowledge without certification, he will be locked up as a quack doctor.

Solely in the world of languages is the amateur of value. Well-intentioned sentences full of mistakes can still build bridges between people. Asking in broken Italian which train we are supposed to board at the Venice railway station is far from useless. Indeed, it is better to do that than to remain uncertain and silent and end up back in Budapest rather than in Milan."

The line about chevrette/crevette is something I read from the LSU website, from their Department of French Studies. This is what it says:

"Change is inevitable for living languages. It would be unreasonable, however, to expect change to happen in the same way in places remote from each other. In some cases, Cajun French has maintained words, structures and pronunciations which the French have long ago abandoned. For example, Cajuns have maintained the original chevrette to refer to shrimp, while the French adopted the Norman regional variant crevette as their standard word. In other cases, Cajun words or pronunciations have evolved while the French word remained stable. The French recevoir, for example, has become reçoir in Cajun French."

Source: LSU Department of French Studies

#kiara theron #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #kiaratheronappreciationweek #KTAW #KTAW 2024 #KTAW Day 3 #KTAW Day 3: Languages #content: fanfic #lizzybeth1986

22 notes · View notes