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choicesficwriterscreations · 25 days

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April OC of the Month: Olivia Hadley

Please welcome April 2024's MC of the Month! Each month, we highlight one MC or OC on our Meet My MC / OC List. They are selected randomly on the Wheel of Names, and eligibility requirements can be found here. We accept MC / OC profiles on an ongoing basis. Please feel free to send yours in!

This month’s OC of the month is…

@storyofmychoices's Olivia Hadley!

More below...

In your own words, tell us what you like most about your MC / OC.

Olivia is literally sunshine. She is the most genuine and empathetic person. She constantly looks for ways to help others and make life better for those who are not as fortunate as she is. She always tries to make everyone she meets (especially children) feel special and heard/appreciated. It doesn’t matter if she knows them or not. She looks out for everyone. She is just a good person with the most beautiful heart and soul. She is so precious to me. In an ideal world, there would be a lot more Olivia’s to help us all feel special.

Do you feel your MC / OC is like you at all? How are you alike or different?

I do think Olivia and I have a lot in common. While I wish I could be as kind and empathetic as Olivia, I am still human, and I make mistakes. I try really hard to live by the principles of “leave the world a little better than you found it” (even if it’s just putting away a grocery cart someone left or picking up one piece of trash in a parking lot) and “be kind whenever possible; it is always possible” (this one is a little harder, but I try every single day to show kindness to everyone, even when I cannot show it to myself). I feel those principles also represent Olivia, she’s just better at it than me.

I also think we have similar occupations. We both wanted to be veterinarians and then learned we’d have to put animals down. Then we both switched to Pediatric Medicine. Olivia stuck with it. I decided to be a teacher because Pediatricians need to know how to deliver babies, and that’s a hard pass for me. Childbirth might be a miracle, but it’s disgusting (IMHO) lol. But we both work closely with children and try to make a positive impact on their lives. We both do whatever we can to create a safe place where children can tell us stuff they don’t know if they can share with their parents yet (questioning their sexual identity or gender). I’ve been very lucky to help several transgender elementary students feel more confident and accepted as well as work with parents to help them help their child. I’ve also worked with students with abusive home lives or their families can’t afford basic needs so I’ve gone out of my way to try to help them through anonymous donations and gift cards through the school. Anything I can do to ease even one struggle, I will do it and I think that is very much the person Olivia is. Olivia will always look out for anyone in her life.

As for differences, Olivia is a little more confident than I am. I drink far more coffee than she does. We both love plants, but she keeps them alive better than I do. I try, but I don’t always succeed, though a cactus I got as a gift from a student 3 years ago just bloomed for the first time this month, so I’m super excited for that. Maybe Olivia is finally rubbing off?

What is most important to your MC / OC? What is their motivation in life?

Olivia’s motivation is truly to make the world a better place. She knows that it’s not always easy, and there are so many struggles and so many hardships. She really wants to make a difference in the lives of those closest to her as well as in the community she serves. She knows she can’t conquer world hunger or global peace, but if she can make a difference to people around her then maybe those people can help some others and things would ripple out from there.

After she has children, her motivation splits. She’ll never stop caring about those around her or the patients she sees, but her children are her first priority.

What are their biggest pet peeves/dislikes?

Olivia doesn’t like gossip. She doesn’t like when people talk about others behind their back in a negative way. It makes her feel uncomfortable. She doesn’t like passive aggressive responses to situations. She genuinely believes that people are good, and if we all just try to have a little more empathy and understanding, the world would be a better place.

She doesn't like rudeness, pettiness, or dishonesty.

Olivia prefers order and organization, so she dislikes chaos and messy places.

If your MC / OC could change one thing - anything - what would it be?

If Olivia could change anything, she’d find a cure for childhood cancer. She takes each case to heart and watching children struggle is something that is very hard for her. She would never trade her time at Edenbrook for anything, and she feels guilty for even thinking it, but she is grateful when she opens her own practice that most of her cases become regular checkups and normal/everyday illnesses.

What is your MC / OC’s favorite quote or song?

“My favorite things in life don't cost any money. It's really clear that the most precious resource we all have is time." — Steve Jobs

“You are the sum total of everything you’ve ever seen, heard, eaten, smelled, been told, forgot - it’s all there. Everything influences each of us, and because of that, I try to make sure that my experiences are positive.” ― Maya Angelou

"It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye." —Antoine de Saint-Exupery

"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says I'll try again tomorrow." — Mary Anne Radmacher

“Even miracles take a little time.” — Fairy GodMother (Cinderella)

“Happily ever after is about finding happiness within yourself and holding on to it through any storm that comes your way." —Chris Colfer

Is there anything else you’d like to share about your MC / OC? (It can be why you created them, how they’ve inspired you, or you could write a little blurb as if it is coming from your OC - an acceptance speech. :) )

Ahhh what else to say about my precious Olivia?! She truly brings me so much joy.

If you’ve been in this fandom long enough, you’ll remember I was an Ethan romancer when OH first released. I enjoyed Ethan/MC’s dynamic. They totally reminded me of Thomas Hunt x MC. However, just before the pandemic, I wrote Bryce, thinking it was a one off thing, but as the world started to shut down, things got darker and scarier, Bryce Lahela’s sunshine and encouragement was something that resonated with me. I tried to make Olivia fit in the role of MC, but I just didn’t like the setup of MC with Bryce. So I made Olivia an original character. Taking her out of that MC role gave me so much more freedom with her and so much more freedom for telling her and Bryce’s story. I loved being able to see where each story would take them. I’m eternally grateful to Olivia (and Bryce) for helping me get through the Covid Pandemic. Having her and Bryce and their friends and family helped me have something positive and hope-filled to hold onto.

Olivia is actually really competitive. You might not see it or notice it at first, but if you’ve ever been a part of any competition with her, you’ll see she will not hold back.

Olivia has a black belt in taekwondo, even though she never talks about it. She got it in High School. She wanted to do something to challenge herself and she wasn’t participating in any team sports, though she did try to get a pingpong team started in her school but it never took off.

Olivia volunteered with Habitat for Humanity for a summer in the Dominican Republic.

Olivia has Scottish roots and has always dreamed of going to Scotland. She hasn’t gotten there yet, but one day!

Olivia is almost as lucky to have such good friends in Casey and Merida as I am to have @jerzwriter and @lilyoffandoms in my life. I can’t even begin to express how special they are to me and how I treasure their friendship.

Thank you to everyone who has ever supported Olivia. She is truly a special character who is so close to my heart. The fact that she is truly an original character and you still adore her means so much to me. I can’t say thank you enough. The amount of serotonin I get from writing and sharing her with you should be illegal, and then when anyone interacts, my heart explodes with unicorns and rainbows and all the sunshine. I’m eternally grateful for the support of Olivia, Bryce, and their little world. Thank you!!!

#choices fic writers creations #cfwc oc of the month #open heart #open heart choices #choices open heart #meet my oc #olivia hadley #storyofmychoices #playchoices #choices #choices stories you play #playchoices fanfic #choices fanfic #open heart fanfic

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playchoicesconfessions · 4 months

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Sent by anonymous

‘I MISS YOU BRYCE LAHELA’

POST/CONFESSIONS DO NOT REFLECT THE MOD’S PERSONAL OPINIONS!

#choices open heart #open heart #choices oh #choices oph #bryce lahela #playchoices #choices #choices stories you play #confessions #mod bruffle

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cariantha · 4 months

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Talk is Cheap (2/2)

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: General Warning: Mentions of pregnancy Category: AU; Angst (with a happy ending) Word count: 2.7K Prompt: What would have been the outcome if Sawyer had discovered that she was pregnant whilst Ethan was in the Amazon? A/N: The theme song for this fic is “Go Get Her” by Restless Road.

Part One

It took Sawyer two days and ten chewed up fingernails to work up the courage to call. And it took three unanswered calls to realize that her heart wasn’t done breaking.

“Ethan, it’s Sawyer. Please call me as soon as you get this message. I really need to talk to you.”

Ethan listened to the message several times. There were only two possible reasons for her call: something was wrong, or she wanted to talk about them. The only clue he had, her shaky and hesitant voice, was not enough to go on. Worried that weeks of strategic silence and self-inflicted loneliness would be for nothing, he determined that the safest course of action was to call his mentor. Speaking to Naveen would rule out several of the “something wrong” scenarios that were racing through his anxious mind.

Ring, ring. “Hello, Ethan. It has been a while,” Naveen answered. The two hadn’t spoken since the video call that ended with Sawyer darting away from his office in tears.

“Naveen. How are you? How have you been feeling?”

“I’m fine, son.”

“Did you have your check-up with Baz this month?”

“I did. My labs were normal.”

“Good… that’s good… uh, how’s the team?”

“They are managing quite well, and June is taking full advantage of her time at the helm,” Naveen chuckled.

“I don’t doubt it. And the interns? Have they killed anyone while I’ve been away?”

“The interns?” Ethan’s attempt at small talk was already suspicious, but asking about the interns was a dead giveaway. “Or one in particular?” Naveen pressed.

Giving up his pretense, Ethan confessed, “She left me a vague message. I was concerned that something had happened. That one of you might be sick or hurt.”

“I think it’s safe to say she’s hurt, Ethan,” Naveen challenged.

“You know that’s not what I meant. Is she okay? Has there been any more backlash from the trial? Has Nash been harassing her?”

An exasperated Naveen sighed, “I don’t know the reason for her call, Ethan. And even if I did, I would tell you to speak with her yourself. Tell me, how are you planning to work together if you’re not on speaking terms?”

“Our relationship will return to that of a strictly professional one. Working together on your case, sharing that secret… the lines got blurred and I let things go too far. It was the result of heightened stress and frequent exposure to-”

“Bullshit,” Naveen interjected.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. We both know if that’s all it was, you wouldn’t have bothered to call me. You wouldn’t care this much. Now, swallow your pride like that over-priced whiskey you drink and call her.”

<><><><><><><><><><>

The following day, Sawyer stood outside of Naveen’s office. “Hi Danielle, any chance the chief has some free time in the next day or two?”

“Let me check his schedule, Dr. Brooks,” the assistant answered, clicking her computer mouse.

“Sawyer? Is that you out there?” Naveen called from inside his office. “Come on in.”

Sawyer offered a thankful smile to Danielle and then stepped into Naveen’s office, closing the door behind her. “Thanks for giving me a few minutes.”

“I can always spare a few for my grand-mentee.” He gestured to one of the seats in front of his desk. “What’s on your mind, dear?”

Sawyer took a grounding breath, then proceeded. “A lot actually. I, uh…” She paused, nervously biting her bottom lip. Then as if ripping off a Band-Aid, she came right out with it. “What is the policy for taking a leave of absence? And if I did, how would that impact my fellowship?”

Naveen pursed his lips, mentally diagnosing the situation. “Well, that depends on the type of leave being requested.”

Sawyer hung her head for a moment, and when she looked up, her eyes were glassy. “Maternity leave.”

He followed her eyes when they shifted to a picture displayed on the hutch behind him, confirming his suspicion. Naveen hoped that Ethan had taken his advice last night. With a sympathetic air, he leaned forward and folded his hands. "Does he know?"

She shook her head and bit her lips, trying to prevent the spill of tears. “He hasn’t returned my calls," she finally managed.

“I’m so sorry, dear. Is there anything you need? Anything I can do for you?”

Sawyer reached for a tissue. “I just need to know what my options are.”

He nodded.

“And if it comes to it… the process for transferring my residency.”

He couldn’t help the frown on his face. “Of course.” A short while later, with a hug and another offer of support, Naveen said goodbye to Sawyer.

"Danielle, would you mind letting Dr. Cyrus know that I am running a few minutes behind?" Closing his door for privacy, he retrieved his phone from the pocket of his white lab coat.

Later that night, in his tiny studio apartment in Atalaya, Peru, Ethan sat on the edge of the bed and scrolled through his phone contacts. He stared at Sawyer’s profile picture for a long while, gathering the strength to stay firm in his resolve, while also preparing for the worst. If she was sick, he would call in every favor he was owed. If she was moving on with someone new, he would hate it, but wouldn’t interfere with her happiness. If she was quitting… leaving… he would break.

With his thumb hovering over the call button, he was startled when the phone pinged. Tapping on the notification, he read the incoming lines of text and quickly realized that he had not anticipated this scenario.

In her bedroom in her Boston apartment, Sawyer paced back and forth. The word “Read” appeared after the last line of her text message and she anxiously chewed on her thumbnail waiting for any kind of response. Preferably a call, but she would settle for three bouncing dots and a few lines of text. A half hour later, accepting the silence as his response, she powered off her phone and tossed it aside. Curling up in her bed, she cried herself to sleep.

In those same thirty minutes, Ethan stared at the sonogram picture and choked back tears. His knee bounced up and down nervously, carefully considering what to say and do to make things right. When he finally pushed the green call button, he immediately heard her voice on the other end of the line. “Hi there, you’ve reached Sawyer. Leave me a message.” He redialed several more times, but each time it went straight to voicemail. “Dammit!”

Ethan stood and raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. He spun around taking in his humble surroundings, considering his current obligations. “To hell with it.” After calling for a ride, he tossed his phone on the bed and began shoving his belongings into his open suitcase.

An hour later, from the backseat of a taxi, Ethan made another call. “Dr. Stehl, it’s Ethan Ramsey. I’m sorry to do this, but something has come up back home in Boston. A family emergency. I’m on my way to the airport now…”

After twenty-four hours of cramped bus rides and connecting flights, and a quick stop at home to freshen up, Ethan stood outside of Sawyer’s apartment door. Taking a deep, calming breath first, he knocked.

Elijah greeted him a half minute later. “Dr. Ramsey? I didn’t know you were back.”

“Yes, just. Is Sawyer here?”

Elijah moved backward and gestured for him to enter, assuming that Sawyer was already expecting him. It wouldn’t have been the first time she entertained Dr. Ramsey in their apartment, after all. It would also explain why she passed on going to Donahue’s with the other roommates for “Ladies Night” half-priced drinks. “She’s in her room. You remember which one, right?”

Ethan nodded. “Thank you.”

“By the way, I like the beard,” Elijah remarked, closing the door. “Maybe I should try to grow one so my patients won’t think I’m fifteen anymore.”

“Hmph,” Ethan huffed in amusement as he moved deeper into the quiet apartment.

He inhaled and exhaled slowly before gently knocking on the last door at the end of the hall, the door to Sawyer’s room. Though light emanated from underneath the door, there was no answer. He knocked again, and when she still didn’t answer, he carefully turned the doorknob and peeked inside.

Sawyer was fast asleep, hugging a pillow close to her body.

Quietly shutting the door behind him, he softly padded to the side of her bed and carefully sat on the edge. Her laptop lay open behind her. On the screen, an application for residency at the Mayo Clinic in Arizona, which made Ethan’s stomach sink.

Odds were she hated him at this point. Despite the risk, he reached out to touch her. Tenderly skimming his fingers along her hairline, he brushed a few loose strands out of the way. “Sawyer,” he quietly said her name. When he repeated it, she finally began to stir and then opened her eyes.

Shocked, she bolted upright and backed away, nearly knocking her laptop to the floor. “W-what are you doing here?” she asked, trying to get her bearings.

“I came to talk. To apologize. To try to make things right.”

“Ethan, I–”

Sensing her distrust, “Please, give me a chance,” he implored. “I know I don’t deserve it, but will you please hear me out?” When she didn’t protest, he continued.

“I have been so selfish, Sawyer. When Naveen appointed you to the diagnostics team, I feared a scandal if people discovered we were together, especially with the ethics trial still fresh in people’s minds. I could never, in good conscience, put you in a position like that. You worked so hard and earned this fellowship. It’s a rare opportunity that I don’t want to get in the way of.” His eyes begged for understanding. “Please believe me when I say this… I want to be with you. So much so that I considered stepping down as team leader. Hell, I even considered resigning from the team altogether.” He ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “As much as I care for you, Sawyer, I couldn’t give it up. I have spent my entire career preparing to one day fill Naveen’s shoes. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, until you. But everything between us happened so fast. It was still so new-”

“Ethan, I would never expect you to make that kind of sacrifice. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you did,” Sawyer firmly cut in.

“I know, Rookie, and that’s why I told myself the only way forward was as colleagues, and nothing more.” He made a point of looking her in the eye. “But the problem is we’ve never just been colleagues, have we. There’s always been something more between us. I took advantage of the distance, hoping that if we cut ties for a while, the connection would fade and make it easier to leave what we had in the past.”

Sawyer shook her head in frustration.

“You don’t have to say it. I can probably guess what you’re thinking,” Ethan acknowledged.

“That you’re an idiot?” she quipped.

“Yes, and you’d be right to think so. I had convinced myself it was a solid plan. As long as we still worked together, I would still get to see and talk to my best friend without the constant worry of holding you back or jeopardizing your career.” Sawyer followed when he tipped his head to the laptop screen behind her. “Knowing how badly you wanted to be at Edenbrook, and how hard you fought for the fellowship, I hadn’t considered the possibility that you would leave. When you said you might move back to Arizona, I realized my plan backfired.”

Ethan gave her a moment to process.

“Why didn’t you call or write me back after I told you about the baby?” she demanded an answer.

"I know this will be hard to believe, but I swear I was just about to call you when I got your text. You can blame me for a lot, but you can’t blame me for the sudden shock of learning that I was going to be a father. It took me a while to catch my breath and find my words. When I finally got my shit together, I tried calling. Several times. But I kept getting your voicemail.” Ethan absent-mindedly stretched his hand toward her. “Sawyer, we both know words without action are meaningless. You mean so much to me and-”

“You have a real shitty way of showing it,” she interjected.

"And I'm here now because I want to change that. You deserve better than a phone call, and certainly more than a text message. You, Rookie, have the unnerving ability to read me like an open book. I want you to be able to look into my eyes and see the truth in my words when I tell you how I feel."

Protectively clutching her pillow to her chest, she braced herself. “And how do you feel?”

“About you?” he paused, his eyes darting between hers. “I am hopelessly in love with you, Sawyer Brooks.”

She swallowed, nervously anticipating his next words.

“How do I feel about this baby?” He sighed softly. “I’ll be honest, I never pictured myself settling down or having a family. I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours on buses and planes alone with my thoughts, and they were consumed with the idea of becoming a father. For the first time in my life, Sawyer, I could picture it… a family of my own... but only because you were with me in that dream. And I’m worried that I’ve fucked it all up.”

Overcome with emotion, Sawyer hid her face with her hands and sobbed.

“Sawyer?”

“Arrrrrgh,” she growled into her hands before lowering them. “I’m still furious with you… I’m not sure where we go from here… how to trust that you won’t walk away again.” She wiped her tears away. “But I guess we have a lot to figure out…” she said, her voice cracking, “because despite myself, I’m still in love with you, too.”

A wave of relief washed over Ethan. There was hope, even if the space between them made it feel like they were still on different continents.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, looking her over.

“I’ve had a little morning sickness, but mostly I'm exhausted.” She opened her mouth to say more but stopped herself.

“What is it?”

Her bottom lip quivered when she continued. “I’m scared to death.”

Ethan gently removed the pillow barrier and drew her near. “Come here.” He pressed a kiss to her temple and murmured, "It will be okay."

“You’ve said that before,” she mumbled into his chest.

He pulled back to look her in the eyes. “I’m sorry for letting you down before. I know that it will take time to earn back your trust. But I promise you, Sawyer, I’m here for you… for both of you. You can count on me,” he assured, his fingers twining with hers. “I will be the man... the partner… that you need me to be.”

They held onto each other in comforting silence for several minutes.

“I missed you, Asshole,” she whispered, then lifted her head to really look at him.

Ethan smiled. “I missed you, too, Rookie. Every minute of every day that I was away.”

Sawyer ran her hand over his scruffy beard, then over the soft leather of his jacket. “We’ve got ourselves a brand new Ethan Ramsey,” she assessed.

“This jacket’s been through a lot with me.”

“It suits you.”

Scratching his cheek, “And the beard?”

She studied him for a moment, then with the playful smile that he had missed so terribly, she teased, “You look like a dad.”

Seven months later…

Ethan stared in awe at the carefully wrapped bundle his wife held in her arms. The newborn’s tiny hand wrapped around the tip of his finger. Without letting go, he carefully nestled next to his wife on the hospital bed. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he leaned in and pressed an appreciative kiss to her temple. When he pulled back, she turned to him with a smile, soliciting another kiss but this time on her lips.

“I love you. How are you feeling?” he asked.

Before she could respond, there was a gentle knock on the door. Two older men bearing flowers, balloons, and teddy bears quietly entered. While the silver-haired man exchanged cheek kisses with Sawyer, the dark-haired man in the sweater vest moved to the other side of the bed and placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder.

“Dad. Naveen. Let me introduce you to your grandson,” Ethan announced. “Brooks Winter Ramsey.”

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfic #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #ethan x sawyer #choices stories you play #choices open heart #playchoices #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

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the-pale-goddess · 4 months

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Vices & Virtues - Ethan Ramsey x MC

Dr. Ramsey's weaknesses don’t disturb his everyday life often, but when they do, a certain intern happens to always be involved.

Book: Open Heart, Intern Year (between Chapters 5 & 6)

Warnings: language, my rusty writing, a truckload of pining

Rating/Category: Teen+ / fluffy angst

Author’s note: [insert the ‘surprise, bitch’ & 'it's been 84 years' reaction GIFs]

I’m eternally grateful for the very few angels still waiting for new E&T content—this one’s for you 🫶🏻 Hope you’ll find a moment to read my word vomit and enjoy the mess (aka my writing). I appreciate every comment and like more than words can convey!

Edenbrook is indigestible on Mondays. Though Ethan Ramsey doesn’t believe in whatever ‘curse’ humankind attributed to an absolutely random day, he cannot deny the madness that usually ensues upon the beginning of each week. An inexplicable air of post-weekend malaise does tend to envelop the globe, and Boston is no lucky exception.

“Mondays suck!”

Striding across the hustly-bustly pediatric ward, Doctor Ramsey overhears an agitated boy explicitly expressing his annoyance.

Ethan’s Monday has been a doozy of a day as well, but he’d rather keep his troubles six feet under, preferably in concrete. Nevertheless, a drop of sympathy implores him to stop near the patient’s room and watch the scene unfold at a safe distance.

The child blows a raspberry at the nurse preparing him for a corridor-long wheelchair ride, clearly upset about the surgery he’s being taken to.

A heavy sigh followed by the unmistakable giggle of a certain copper-haired radiologist interrupts Ethan’s first break during today’s demanding shift.

“It’s not Monday, kid. It’s just your life.” Doctor Herbert whispers into Ethan’s ear, a large cup of raspberry tea in her hand. “But at least it’s going to be all rainbows and candy again in three weeks.”

Meanwhile, the situation has escalated quickly: a river of tears streams down the young Monday-hater's cheeks now, his concerned mother shooting pleading looks between her shuddering offspring and the strict nurse trying to efficiently finish the task so she could move on with her hectic schedule.

A pang of dejection pierces Ethan all of a sudden when a long-forgotten fragment of the past he buried flashes through his mind. Before its splinters reopen old wounds, he swiftly pushes the unwanted memory back to the unexplored depths of his psyche.

“I don’t think he’s heard you.”

“Gee, Doctor Ramsey, share some of that cheerful attitude with the rest of us!” Liz nudges his side, almost spilling her hot beverage on his foot. She mouths an apology, but his unimpressed gaze falls elsewhere.

“You wouldn’t even know what to do with it.”

“Thank God your interns still haven’t caught that grumpiness you’re suffering from.”

“No need to worry, it’s not contagious.” He gives a dismissive wave of his hand, partially to announce his departure, then continues the journey to his primary destination: the harmonious sanctuary of his private office.

As soon as the elevator door closes behind Ethan, the confined space becomes his temporary resort. He takes a deep breath, rubbing his sunken, aweary eyes to relieve the tension—an aching remnant of the sleepless night. The exhaustion begins to mess with his senses, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary; permanent fatigue has been his steadfast companion for more than a decade of his career as a doctor.

There’s a crack in that orderly, borderline clinical life of his, as big as a closed fist, and he’s slowly beginning to realize its detrimental consequences.

But none of that matters now.

What matters is that his desperate efforts to bend Naveen’s stubbornness weren’t in vain; there’s still hope—a notion Ethan isn’t exactly on board with, but he puts his trust in science, and beyond any doubt science will point him in the right direction. As long as there’s time, he’ll do whatever it takes to save his mentor, his friend. He’s confident he can do it, he’s capable of diagnosing and curing whichever mysterious illness keeps Naveen captive.

He’s the only one who can do it.

A double shot of deep roasted espresso shall help this cause. Or, at the very least, make his Monday slightly more endurable.

Loud metallic thud followed by a streak of bright fluorescent lighting annunciates the arrival. Empty, windowless corridor welcomes his nostrils with the odious mixture of staleness and antiseptic, typical of the office wing on the sixth floor. He operates on autopilot, mindlessly trudging ahead, marginally consoled by the aura of eerie quietude. Blissfully oblivious to what the so-called Manic Monday has prepared for him next.

All his rational thought and peerless logic evaporate into thin air the second his drowsy gaze zooms in on the old waiting room under renovation currently withheld by the recent budget cuts. Within its hoary walls, a familiar sylphlike figure catches his eye, unwittingly staking her claim to his undivided attention.

Ethan’s dire need of coffee has vanished as well; he’s wide awake now.

Smiling to herself, a sense of pride evident in the alluring dimples carved into her cheeks, Doctor Addams arranges a stack of papers atop a massive couch protected by thin plastic sheet.

Ethan acknowledges that he must ignore the tempest raging inside his chest, but he’s unable to focus on anything else other than the energy she exudes, luring him in like a siren’s song.

This isn’t the first time the infamous Doctor Terminator is utterly powerless in the face of her—the most intriguing mystery he’s tempted to unravel for some godforsaken, unfathomable reason.

Everything he knows about Tiffany Addams has been collateral damage from their close proximity and the isolating nature of their work. Against better judgment, Ethan has stored every single crumb of information thrown at him, like it’s a treasure guarded in the vault of his mind, acquiring new pieces and adding them to this clandestine collection.

With certainty, there’s a new element behind that glass wall, ready to be studied in secret.

As though pulled by a magnet, his feet carry him towards the room while Ethan shuffles through a myriad of excuses plausible enough to start a conversation. A good excuse, however, requires an elaborate background story, supported by a carefully planned follow-up—both of which clearly out of his reach at the moment.

Fully aware of the possible disaster awaiting inside, Ethan steps into the room quietly, leaning against the doorframe with arms crossed over his chest. A sophisticated scent of sultry vanilla wrapped with notes of luminous lavender pervades the space, handily smothering the musty odor of the old hospital furniture stored here for at least a year.

Heedless of his presence, Tiffany remains locked in her own bubble. She’s seated on the couch, browsing through a large leather bag with a lot of noise.

Long onyx locks neatly tamed in a sleek bun reveal the exquisitely sculpted contour of her features, its sharp edges so far removed from the overpowering warmth hiding in her sparkling emeralds and tenacious kindness dripping from the corners of her full mouth.

That stark contrast surely must be a part of her allure, he reckons. Not that there’s any evidence at his disposal—he’s her boss, for fuck’s sake. But the set of cardinal rules applying to the situation doesn’t stop him from looking, nor does it dilute the poison seeping from that singular contaminated thought…

Loud, treacherous voice snarls inside his mind like a beast at the gates of his sanity.

This isn’t staring, this is a comprehensive risk assessment.

Regardless of the pretext, watching her feels almost perverse, but he’s too transfixed to listen to his voice of reason hopelessly trying to redirect him to the path of impeccable propriety.

He can’t look away. Can’t move either. She'll notice him…Eventually.

Is that all he’s become? A disappointment, a fraud. One of the best diagnosticians of the generation, the esteemed Dr. Ethan Ramsey is consistently failing to do his job. His own mind appalls him—once the most treasured asset, his pride and joy, now compromised, useless, struggling to cut through the veil of his inappropriate longing.

Perhaps instead of triggering a spiral of destruction, he should address a more pressing matter: why is there a splotch of purple paint on her cheek?

Better late than never, his focus switches from Tiffany to the negligible surroundings. On her left, spread across the polythene-covered couch, lie a couple of ridiculously abstract drawings, colorful and confusing, each of them made with the skill and precision equal to a six-year-old if he has to guess.

Suddenly, it all clicks.

Along with his tongue.

The short clack doesn’t make her flinch, though she straightens immediately, a glimmer of surprise shining in her riveting eyes when she looks up at the intruder and deems him worthy of a smile. Her lush, rosy lips curl up generously, greeting him with a beam so dazzling his body heats up like bare skin kissed by the blazing midday sun in the middle of summer.

The older doctor doesn’t return the cordial gesture—he has a reputation to uphold and his bruised dignity to save. He quickly takes refuge in the shadow of his perfect decorum, dexterously covering the unjustifiable act of treason committed by his very own carnality.

Tiffany, however, is undeterred in her mission to melt his callous indifference with the disarming sincerity of her vivacious spirit.

“Before you drop your sarcastic grenades on me: no, I have not found my true calling elsewhere. I have not been slacking up either. These aren’t even mine, so insulting someone else’s artistic skills would be totally inappropriate.” Her hand waves over the drawings.

“I wouldn’t dare to insult a respected artist and credit you with their art.” He retorts flatly, then spills the aforementioned sarcasm like the Lord intended. “Early Pollock must cost a fortune or two. How come such rare artworks ended up in your possession?”

His comment inspires a peal of infectious laughter; the powerful melody of Tiffany’s unadulterated amusement conquers the room, all but obliterating the chronic sternness of Ethan’s face.

He cannot help but bask in the glory of this unexpected outcome: he’s the reason behind the glorious, velvety sound; she’s laughing because of him.

“You made a pretty solid assumption, Doctor Ramsey, but I have to disappoint you: early Pollock had an affair with surrealism and his style was way more compositional than this.” She points at the glittery mess splashed in the center of one of the pieces, not so subtly suppressing another wave of laughter.

Miss Addams and her irreplaceable wit painfully remind him of the golden rule he often pretends doesn’t concern his giant ego: do not speak on the topics your knowledge of is insufficient.

Lustrous vivid-green eyes fixed on him and the urgency he’s facing at the moment leave him no choice but to quickly shake off the embarrassment and adapt his reaction accordingly.

Reluctantly, Ethan clings to brutal honesty. “I’m not an art connoisseur, so I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

“Oh, trust me, you would.”

A smudge of amethyst retrieves the diagnostician’s attention for one split second, demanding a seamless change of topic.

“I presume you spent your lunch break on the pediatric ward again, trying to start a new art movement.”

Doctor Addams gasps theatrically and presses her slender fingers to her mouth, lowering her head slightly. “What gave me away?”

Ethan considers revealing the truth through another shot of bluntly delivered sarcasm (something he would have done in any other case), but his body betrays him, subconsciously drawing near Tiffany.

“Apart from the excited chatter on the second floor? Nothing.” He replies, straining to keep his impeccable composure just as she bites into her lower lip tantalizingly in what appears to be keen anticipation.

A few risky steps later she’s at his arm’s length, and he decides to measure that dangerously short distance; akin to an audience member of some ludicrous soap opera, the diagnostician observes his hand move towards the intern’s face in slow motion, as if that bloody limb wasn’t his and the falsely innocent intention swarming inside his incisive, virtuous mind filled him with repulsion.

Except he wants this. He needs to feel her.

Even though the mere ghost of an idea may bring his demise, he cannot break free, imprisoned by the torturous vision of her vanilla-scented skin gliding smoothly against his.

Much to his bewilderment, her breath quickens just as much as his; the evergreen forest in her eyes bursts into flames when their gazes meet, burning his hesitation down.

She wants this too.

Nothing could convince him to refrain from acting on this forbidden desire now, not a single reasonable thought seems to be charged with a cogent argument.

So he lets his thumb brush down her right cheek, down the lick of wet paint smeared across her warm skin, taking most of the dark purple off the silken canvas along the way.

The sky didn’t tear in half, there was no divine retribution exacted upon a sinner like him, no sign of punishment fit for his appalling misdeed.

“Nothing. At. All.”

Nothing but the silky smoothness of her face, rapid rise and fall of her shapely chest, and fiery heat searing through his veins…

Inevitably, the unbearable tension crackling between them dissipates in a flash when Tiffany snorts at the sight of his acrylic-stained thumb, a soundless ‘fuck’ escapes her mouth as she sprints to find a prompt solution for the paintmergency, stripping him of time to ponder on what the living hell just happened.

He takes advantage of the moment, immediately scolding himself, forcing his thoughts to flee from the crime scene concocted by his newly depraved brain.

“Must be your enviable instinct of an outstanding diagnostician then.” Cheeky as ever, she casts a playful eye over Ethan while rummaging through the drawers, summoning him to focus on her.

Within a long minute, she scuttles back to him, stretched arm offering one of the two pieces of paper towel sprayed with hand sanitizer. They use it to rub the paint off their skin. As soon as they’re done, Ethan quips back. Sort of.

“The balance between mockery and flattery is a bit too delicate to be used in a professional environment, don’t you agree, Addams?”

Unintimidated by the tricky question, Tiffany lifts her shoulder in a half shrug. “It all depends on the intelligence of the person you’re speaking with. You’re ultrawealthy in that department, so I assumed you wouldn’t mind some harmless friendly banter.”

“We’re not friends.” The speed with which he retaliates might have just sealed his fate. Deep down, he doesn’t quite believe those words himself, but there are rules to be followed unconditionally, rules that cannot be broken under any circumstances.

Dark, noble brows accentuating the breadth of her radiance crease together in sheer bewilderment. He can almost hear the scoff she’s choking back when she sees right through the cone-shaped hole in the thick wall separating them.

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

“We’re getting there.” She nods vigorously, openly mocking his well-meaning mendacity with lips pursed into a thin line and narrowed eyes surveying him diligently.

„An attending befriending his intern? I can’t see that happening.”

A winning grin lights Tiffany’s features up. „It’s already happening, whether you like it or not.”

The more she pushes forward, infuriatingly so, the more he resists, fortifying his helpless defense.

„Would you be kind enough to explain why on Earth would I let it happen?”

“It’s beyond your control.” She shakes her head. „There’s nothing you can do now.”

He frowns at her, takes her fierce expression in, feigning utter disinterest in the mesmerizing spatter of freckles adorning her glowy skin.

Is the intensity of his glare too revealing? Can there be a flash of ardent curiosity swimming in his eyes and acting up against him?

„You’re awfully confident about all the wrong things, Rookie.”

She mimics the military salute, right hand raised sharply, touching her forehead, fingers and thumb extended and joined, palm facing down. „The colossal pain in your ass reporting for duty, sir.”

This display of her goofiness, derived from the smidgeon of irreverence he’s found himself covertly fond of, successfully penetrates his ruptured facade.

At last, Doctor Terminator’s perpetually grim face blooms with an ear-to-ear smile, so wide and genuine that Tiffany blinks once, twice, most probably questioning whether the exceptionally unusual scene in front of her is real.

The way she gapes at his mouth almost drills a hole in him—she’s that awestruck, like a pious believer who stumbled upon irrefutable evidence confirming the foundation of her faith.

“You should smile more. You…” Her plush lips part when she trails off, then sucks in a breath, as if to stop the profanation of their professional relationship jumping on the tip of her tongue from slipping out recklessly.

She wants this too.

“It suits you.”

Ethan’s cheeks erupt with disgraceful heat, resembling an awkward teenager attracting his crush’s attention for the very first time—the feeling almost as mortifying and inexcusable as the unprecedented lack of any snarky response.

As if the worst was yet to come, Tiffany keeps on staring at him with such exhilarating wonder and sureness he doesn’t quite know how to proceed with such abundance of emotion meddling with his stoic approach.

She wants this too.

For a fleeting moment, the abyss of his solitude shrinks significantly, purple paint filling the crack on the illusory contentment with the life he’s chosen, just as her piercing gaze invites him further into the impossible fantasy.

Then, a jolt of sobering guilt runs along his spine in a rude awakening, at the same time when Tiffany realizes the gravity of her daring statement and its perilous implications.

“I, erm…”

“Uhm, my…”

Ethan smashes the uncharacteristic uneasiness descending on them, a benign half-smile and barely perceptible nod encourage her to continue. “Go on.”

Her gaze flickers towards the hall, a tinge of crimson reddening freckled porcelain. “My break is almost over. I should head back to the ER.”

Hell must have frozen over: his fearless protégée, strong-willed and sharp-tongued at all times, befuddles him with this uncommonly demure armor plate she has put on. The most challenging obstacles and cases fail to break her down, stress and pressure never threaten her admirable strength, and yet there she is—bleeding from her own sword.

This supremely fascinating token of hidden vulnerability sheds new light on the beguiling collection of contradictions making her whole.

He examines the younger doctor pacing around the room as she gathers her belongings up, stuffing her capacious bag with them. Half-way, she spins to address him directly and points at her cheek.

“Am I…Still…?”

“No, you’re alright. The paint is gone.”

“Splendid.”

As she goes forward, assembling her patients’ drawings into a neat pile, and—rather intentionally—ignoring Ethan, he readjusts his tie and dives headfirst into the pool of her discomfort.

“Addams?”

“Hm?”

“You don’t have to dedicate such a vast portion of your free time to helping others.”

She freezes, visibly offended, but still intent on avoiding his gaze. “I know. I want to.”

“What I meant...Is that you need to add yourself to the equation, Tiffany.”

“I’m doing just fine, thank you.” She scoffs, the barely noticeable defensive undertone reverberating in her firm answer not entirely convincing for the diagnostics virtuoso.

His evaluation is disrupted by the abominably loud beeping of Tiffany’s pager. Their eyes finally clash for a brief shootout with no winner before she shuts the damn thing up.

“Well then. See you later, Doctor Ramsey.” She blurts out hastily without giving him a second glance and turns round to rush out of the room, but stops in her tracks near the door.

Something sparks inside that brilliant mind of hers, reigniting her boldness. Dense curtain of long lashes flutters at him over her shoulder, inky-black and luxurious akin to the finest lace, the signature magnetic smile dancing on her lips again—this time infused with genuine concern. She inspects his countenance for a still moment, inch by inch, crease by crease, until her head falls to the side like she has just uncovered his biggest secret.

“Consider locking the door in your office and getting some rest.”

“Giving me advice isn’t included in your job description.” He sneers, the unnecessarily harsh huff of his disapproval concealing the alien sentiment spilling inside his chest.

Somehow it’s still not enough to antagonize her.

Her eyes bore into his audaciously; the gentleness gleaming from elusive emerald green, reminiscent of safety, offers shelter he despairingly seeks, but cannot take. “But it’s nice to have someone watching out for you, isn’t it?”

Somehow they might have more in common than one would think.

Careful not to expose the motley collection of feelings stirring his blood, Ethan draws in a long breath and slips his hands into the pockets of pristine white coat, perfecting his posture, with tense body standing even taller, as though to appear completely unaffected by her undeniable appeal, more unrelenting.

He’s been looked at countless times, yes, but this must be the first instance where he feels truly seen.

It is indeed nice.

The attending doesn’t say a word, for he would have to agree with the intern. She smirks triumphantly, accepting the tacit disbelief etched on his face as conclusive proof of her diagnosis.

Instead of claiming victory through verbal manifestation of her sass, Doctor Addams attacks him using a different weapon: a provocative wink. “Just think about it.”

With a graceful twirl indicating goodbye, his Rookie struts out, leaving a dizzying mist of her divine scent behind.

Wasting no time, Ethan scoots to the exact place where she stood prior to this moment, soaking up the delicious cloud of fragrance, unable to resist sniffing the air like some sort of disgustingly pathetic creep.

Thankfully, there are no witnesses to this particularly revolting descent into madness.

No witnesses to the beginning of his fall.

Mind over heart has never sounded more delusional than now, that his hard-won empire of spotless reason stands on the verge of crumbling. But he’s not giving up—he can’t give up. There’s too much at stake.

Beyond dispute, Ethan Ramsey is not an easy man to defeat. The King of Quiet Desperation wears his broken crown with arrogance, each burnished gem representing his sins, though the ultimate one hasn’t brought him down yet.

Having put the mask of nonchalance back on, Doctor Ramsey turns off the lights and stomps into the empty corridor—his hand still carrying the heavenly softness of Tiffany’s skin like a fingerprint, like a sin, shaky fingers curling at the very thought of the contact—then begins a seemingly casual stroll to his office.

He doesn’t have many vices—she is all of them.

_____

A/N2: Hope you enjoyed this bad boy ❤️ Sorry (not sorry) if it's too long and repetitive...I literally can't shut up when it comes to these two fsksjdkfjs Plus it felt really good to find my writing mojo after such a long time!

PS. If there are any typos and/or mistakes...No, there aren't lol I'm fighting COVID at the moment, so my brain's a little foggy. I had this fic sitting in my drafts and decided to just go with the flow while I'm feverish and can't see any faults sjfskfkjf I'll get back to everyone waiting for a reply when I'm more coherent. Stay safe, lovelies!

#ethan ramsey #open heart #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #playchoices #fluffy angst #choices open heart #open heart fanfiction

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lilyoffandoms · 4 months

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Countdown to 2024 by artbyainna (IG)

@choicesfandomappreciation December 31: 1+ fandom friendships that made you feel special

To @jerzwriter and @storyofmychoices for always supporting me and sending kind words and messages (even when I’m not here). Thank you for always reminding me of how beautiful this world truly is! Thank you for being in my life! I love the little world we created for these three and I love you both so much! May the next year be the best yet and fill with all the good and beautiful things you both deserve 😘

#choices open heart #choices oph #playchoices #merida casey olivia #my commission #do not claim as your own #do not download #do not tag as you oc/mc #do not repost #do you have any idea how hard it was to not share this immediately when i read the note at the end of your fic elsa?!?#you don’t know what this wait has done to me haha

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blackcatkita · 7 months

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"All I can think about is getting you home."

Open Heart's Bryce and MC (Kayla in my case) commissioned by me from the wonderful, talented, marvelous @pilitella

Isn't it beautiful?!?! The detail, their gorgeous faces, Bryce's smirk, his creeping hand... ugh, these two, I can't.

Please do not use or share without giving credit to the very talented artist @pilitella

#choices open heart #playchoices #bryce x mc #bryce lahela #why is this so hot #no one should be this good looking pixelated or not

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mydemonsdrivealimo · 4 months

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THEM>>>>>

ft. a little bit older jensen and bryce, including bryces tattoo <33333

tags and lineart under cut <3

tagging: @cariantha @kyra75 @gutsfics @jerzwriter @mvalentine

#click for quality #jensen valentine #bryce lahela × jensen valentine #bryce lahela #open heart #open heart mc #open heart choices #my art #choices open heart #open heart art

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icecoffee90 · 1 month

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I've been really disinterested in Choices lately but I just suddenly missed my babies a month ago, so I commissioned the incredible @/artbyainna on IG and as always, she did an amazing job! Not that you could ever expect anything else from her.

The idea behind this commission was simple - Bryce comforting my Open Heart MC, Joshua, after he is wakes up from a PTSD induced nightmare in the middle of the night.

#artbyainna #my commission #playchoices #playchoices fanart #Choices Open Heart #Choices oph #Open Heart fanart #Bryce Lahela #Bryce x MC #Bryce x M!MC #Choices Game #Playchoices art

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jerzwriter · 5 days

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The Big ONE

Happy Birthday to little Samantha, who turned one on April 20th!

I asked @/artbyainna (IG) to help create artwork to commemorate the special occasion, and I'm simply squealing at the results! While Tobias and Casey are captivated with their little angel, Pietro is all too happy to jump in and get a bit of that cake he's been eyeing all afternoon! I'm just blown away by this!

I wrote a fic highlighting a few moments during Sammy's big day below. I hope you enjoy the sugary sweetness as much as I do!

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Tobias Carrick x Casey Carrick (F!MC) Characters: Vivian Carrick (F!OC), Jordan Carrick (M!OC), Rose and David MacTavish (OCs), the OH gang, and of course, Pietro - the original cat. Rating: Teen Words: 1,700 A/N: @choicesaprilchallenge24 / Kitchen Table

Standing at her kitchen sink didn't typically usher in so much joy, but then, today wasn't any ordinary day. Casey's heart was full as she peered out the kitchen window into her backyard. It was tiny by suburban standards, but in Boston, it may as well have been an acre. The storms that had been forecasted earlier in the week held off, and the bright sun and azure blue skies provided the perfect canopy for their guests who came to celebrate.

The telltale rattle of the backdoor handle interrupted the silence, and Casey turned to find her husband coming inside. He looked so gorgeous in the fitted pink shirt he bought just for this occasion that she didn't initially catch his expression. Was it bewilderment? Vexation? She couldn't quite make it out.

He reached into the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of Sam Adams. Popping the cap off, he leaned against the counter and shook his head.

"I can't believe there's a freaking petting zoo in my yard."

Casey chuckled as she closed the distance between them, her head coming to rest on his shoulder as her arms encircled his waist.

"It’s not like you weren’t warned... albeit inadvertently.”

“Still...” he sighed.

“You know, from what I’ve heard, this place was a perpetual petting zoo in the past. Of course, it wasn’t the G-rated type, but even so... this shouldn't be so foreign to you.”

She closed her eyes and pressed closer against him, relishing the way his chest reverberated against her as he laughed.

“While the stories of my past can be a bit on the wild side, they tend to be overexaggerated, my dear.”

Casey squeezed him tighter. “I can’t believe our baby girl is a year old already.”

“I know,” Tobias replied with amazement. “It all went by in a flash.”

“It did,” Casey agreed. “Although, some of the nights felt like they lasted an eternity. Especially in the beginning. God, sometimes I didn’t think I’d survive.”

“You?” Tobias marveled. “No way! You had the whole motherhood thing down pat from the start. You're a natural, babe.”

“A natural?” She laughed. “Are you kidding me? From the moment I found out I was pregnant, I was a hyperventilating mess!" Her hands rubbed along the silky fabric covering his chest, and her voice filled with emotion. “If not for your bright outlook and constant support, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. You’re my rock, T.”

The tender moment was interrupted when the door handle rattled again, and several of their friends stepped inside.

“Jesus!” Jackie groaned. “Do you two ever stop with that lovey-dovey shit?”

“Aw! Leave them alone!” Sienna smiled. “I think they’re adorable.”

“I might be more accepting of that adorable title if it was any random day,” Bryce interjected. “But what the hell are you doing inside with this kissy face crap when you have a freaking petting zoo and bouncy house in your yard?”

“Yeah,” Tobias chuckled. “Ma didn’t read the memo when we said we wanted a simple party with our friends."

“She also didn’t get that none of our friends have children, and Sammy’s too young for friends of her own... I don’t know that we needed all this.”

“Are you kidding?” Bryce gasped in horror. Vivian is a goddess! I’ve been in the bouncy house for the past hour, and that little wallaby out there is now my best friend. You two really need to come out.”

“Oh, I will so be in the bouncy house before this day is over!” Casey enthused.

“And I’ll be there to gleefully record every second,” Tobias winked. “But we’re going to set up to have the cake in here now.”

A peal of laughter wafted in through the open window, and everyone looked outside to see Sammy flying through the air—her face aglow as she giggled with abandon.

“Give her back to me!” Tobias’s brother, Jordan, insisted as Ethan swung the little one around again.

“Sorry,” Ethan responded. “She’s made her position clear. I’m her favorite uncle. You’ll just have to acclimate to being number two, Jordan.”

“Number two,” Bryce blurted as he was about to stick his hand into the nacho dip. “He’s not number two! And Ethan’s not number one! Sorry guys, I have to get out there and reclaim my ground!”

Jackie heaved out a sigh. “I suppose I should go supervise the children.”

“And I’ll make sure she doesn’t hurt anyone,” Sienna said, quick on her friend's heels.

Tobias slid behind Casey, wrapping his strong arms around her as they watched the joyful scene unfolding outside.

“Oh, no! Our parents are getting in on this now,” Casey observed as Tobias kissed her shoulder. “We better go retrieve Sammy before she's more spoiled than she is already."

"Nah," Tobias declined. "She's in very good hands, and I want just one more moment alone with my beautiful wife."

Casey turned around in Tobias's arms and gently kissed him, but he turned that little kiss into one with decidedly more passion.

"Keep that up, and we'll end up with baby number two," she giggled.

"Damn, she's on to my plan," he winked.

~~~~

A short time later, the circus had moved inside as the guests crowded into the family's living room to open gifts.

“I was told we were coming inside for cake,” Bryce pouted.

Vivian, seated next to him, promptly slapped his knee.

“OW!”

“It’s presents before cake, Lahela. Everyone knows that.”

“I don’t think Sammy would mind either way,” he replied but acquiesced when he saw how happy the little girl was ripping into the gift wrap on her presents.

“Look!” Sienna said, tapping Casey’s Mom, Rose, on the shoulder. “She loves the stuffed pony you got her!”

“She does,” Rose beamed. “Although Grandma Vivian supplied the real pony in the yard!”

“Yeah,” Casey’s father, David, laughed. “We’ll have to up our game next year, hon. Vivian here is stealing our thunder.”

“NO!” Tobias and Casey yelled in unison.

“Don’t worry,” Tobias insisted. “My mother is going to be banished from next year’s celebration! We can have some normalcy.”

“Like hell I will be!” she spat as Jordan roared with laughter.

“Please, you have a better chance of Derek Jeter being elected mayor of Boston than you do of Ma missing any of Sammy’s birthdays.”

“That’s right! This fool made me wait almost four decades to be a grandma, I'm not missing any of it now!"

Tobias wrapped his arm around his mother’s shoulders and squeezed her close. “I know you wouldn’t, Ma. And we wouldn't want you to, but... can we celebrate without so many animals next year?”

“I don’t know,” Vivian smirked. “I think it would be wrong not to include your friends.”

~~~~~

A pile of opened gifts sat stacked neatly in the corner as little Pietro played happily with the bits of colorful gift wrap that remained taped to the boxes. But the cat wasn’t the only one excited; after all, it was finally time for CAKE!

“Casey, you look great!” Jordan stated. “But, Tobias, I need you to move a bit to the right.”

“For God's sake,” Tobias groused. “Can you just take the picture already?"

“Can we start singing?” Vivian asked. "I want to sing to my grandbaby."

“As soon as I get this picture,” Jordan replied. “All right! Casey, Tobias... perfect! Now, everyone, help me get Sammy to look this way.”

Everyone gathered behind Jordan, making faces, clapping their hands, and doing all they could to get the precious little girl to look their way. But Sammy only had eyes for one thing... the fluffy pink birthday cake that was just outside of her reach. That is until her feline best friend hopped on the table, stealing her attention and leaving her squealing with delight.

Casey lifted him, placing him gently back on the floor. “Not on the table, Pietro.”

“Yeah!” Jackie replied smugly. “No cake for you.”

The cat hissed at his nemesis as the clamoring to get Sammy to look at the camera continued.

“Oh, for the love of God,” Tobias bewailed. “Can you just take the picture!”

“I sure can,” Jordan nodded. “On the count of three! One... two... three!”

But just as her uncle snapped the photo, Sammy lurched forward and grabbed a fistful of the cotton candy colored icing, and when Tobias attempted to intervene, he ended up with a tiny fistful of sticky, sugary goodness splattered onto his face. A family photo that would be celebrated for generations to come was born.

Beaming, Tobias lifted Sammy off Casey’s lap as her chubby little hands mashed the icing deeper into her father’s beard.

Laughing, Casey pulled her phone out of her pocket to snap some shots of her own. “Our little girl has you wrapped around her finger, T!”

Tobias reached over and pulled Casey close; the sticky icing became a family affair when he kissed her cheek. “She sure does. Just like her, Momma!”

Amidst all the chaos, Pietro saw an opportunity, and he took it! Leaping onto the table, he stuck his paws into the cake and delighted in his sugary bonanza until Casey spotted him out of the corner of her eye.

“Pietro! No!” she hollered as Jackie, the only one who had seen the cat on the table, broke out laughing.

“You saw him and didn’t rat him out?” Casey teased. "What's happened to you?"

Jackie merely shrugged. “You have to admire him. He wanted something, saw an opening, and took it. I’m not about to turn him in for that.”

"Are you and that cat... bonding?" Casey asked.

"I guess Sammy's birthday is capable of miracles."

~~~~~

Hours later, after the final guest had gone home, Casey and Tobias snuggled together on the couch. Sammy slept in her playpen just feet away while Pierto kept a protective watch over her. Despite being exhausted, the proud parents couldn’t wipe the grins off their faces.

“This was such a great day,” Casey smiled. “I knew it would be, but it exceeded all expectations.”

“It was a really great day,” Tobias agreed. “And I think Ma only violated three town ordinances by insisting a wallaby was included in the petting zoo."

“She didn’t break any ordinances,” Casey laughed, her eyes suddenly going wide. “At least, not any that we know of.”

“Well, if she did, we successfully evaded charges, and that's all I can ask for."

“Mmmm,” Casey hummed, snuggling closer to him. “So, do you still want to add another Carrick to all this craziness?”

Tobias sat up, his interest piqued. “Damn straight, I do. Honestly, I want our girls to be close together. Jordan and I had a big age difference, and I’d like Sammy to grow up with her sister, you know?”

“Tobias,” Casey chuckled. “You know we have no way of knowing if we'd have another girl!”

His eyes lit up, and that little dimple Casey found so irresistible took center stage. “Oh, yes, I do. Now the big question... are you ready to have bambina number two?”

Casey sunk back into the fluffy couch cushions with a smile. “Soon? Maybe we can start trying around the end of summer. You know, it might not happen right away, but if we start then, maybe Sammy can have a little sister... or brother... by the end of next year. What do you say?"

“First, sister,” Tobias grinned. “And it will happen right away. Look at how fast it happened with Sammy.”

“Babe, we weren’t planning on Sammy.”

“Exactly,” Tobias grinned, holding Casey close. "I work that damn well when we weren't even trying... you just wait until we are."

Sammy made a funny little noise, and when Mom and Dad realized she was just having a happy dream, they returned to holding each other close.

"Well, I feel a lot better right now than I did a year ago at this time," Casey stated. "I mean, a day of family and friends is a cakewalk next to labor and delivery."

"Yet, you're willing to do it again," Tobias chuckled.

"Yeah, I think I'll make it through," she smiled. "I love our little family, T."

"So do I," he said with a kiss on her forehead. "And I love you."

~~~~~

That's some serious sweetness here, my friends! I hope you enjoyed it... Pietro sure did!

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesaprilchallenge24 @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

#choices fanfic #choices fanart #open heart #open heart fanfic #open heart fanart #tobias carrick #tobias carrick x f!mc #samantha carrick #open heart choices #choices open heart #choices stories you play #playchoices

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bouncyballcitadel · 1 year

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Wow 😭

Thank you so much for the follower milestone! To everyone who has liked, reblogged, sent in an ask, followed - Citadel wouldn’t be possible without your support. Thank you for loving the game, the characters, and all of the shenanigans in between.

As a 2,500 follower special, I’m putting 3 short snippets (usually $10 each!) up for grabs. If you like this post, you’ll be entered into the raffle once. If you reblog this post, you’ll be entered into the raffle twice. That’s a total of 3 raffle chances per person!

Raffle will close Monday, March 6th at 8:30 pm EST.

And for those who might just be stumbling upon Citadel…

TUMBLR INTRO POST

DEMO || DISCORD || PATREON || KO-FI || AO3 || FORUM

#citadelwip #choice of games #hosted games #choiceofgames #hostedgames #interactive fiction #interactive story #interactive novel #dashingdon #if you like #choices open heart #open heart #grey's anatomy #medical dramas #medical romance

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liaromancewriter · 6 days

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Ride or Die

Premise: Cassie asks Max and Ethan an important question.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine); feat. Max Valentine Format: Text Fic

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

@lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect

@queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart fanfics #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfics #choices fanfiction #choices open heart #ethan ramsey x cassie valentine

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playchoicesconfessions · 6 months

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Sent by anonymous

‘I wish more people stanned Bryce with MC (compared to *ahem* Ethan stans - sorry not sorry!)’

POST/CONFESSIONS DO NOT REFLECT THE MOD’S PERSONAL OPINIONS!

#choices open heart #open heart #choices oph #choices oh #bryce lahela #playchoices #choices #choices stories you play #confessions #mod bruffle

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cariantha · 4 months

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Never Been Kissed

Book: Open Heart, Book 2 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: General Category: Fluff Word count: 1.8K Summary: Ethan helps Sawyer with one of her New Year’s resolutions. A/N: I woke up with this idea yesterday and hammered it out last night so I could post it in time for NYE. Please forgive any errors. Happy New Year!🎉🪩🍾

Events/Prompts: • Participating in CFWC Holidays 2023 • Participating in Choices Flashfics Week #66 Prompts 🫤3: “How much worse could it get?” • Participating in Choices Holidays Winter 2023

Sawyer had never kissed anyone on New Year's Eve.

Every year, for as long as she could remember, she rang in the new year with her family. The tradition was due in part to the fact that it was also her father's birthday. Twelve years away at school, but she always returned home for the holidays, never missing the annual event. Even last year, her first in Boston, she was able to make it home. A trip made possible by the plane ticket Ethan had given her for Christmas, a generous thank-you gift for helping him with Naveen.

In recent years their family party grew to include significant others and their babies. Everyone had a special someone to kiss at midnight. Everyone but Sawyer.

When she broke the news to her parents that she was staying in Boston for New Years, there was disappointment on both ends of the line. A couple weeks had passed since she returned to work, and the medical leave she took to recuperate from the attack had already eaten up more time than she could afford. She couldn’t spare any more time away. Her parents were understanding, and Sawyer found a silver lining in that she finally had a special someone to kiss at midnight this year.

At least that was the case until she looked at her schedule a week later. Zaid accommodated her request for extra shifts, allowing her to make up clinic hours. But given that she worked a double on Christmas, she didn’t expect another on New Year’s Eve. She should have known better. It was one of the busiest nights of the year in the emergency department.

🎉🪩🍾🎉🪩🍾🎉🪩🍾🎉🪩🍾

After a quick coffee break at Derry’s, Ethan helped Sawyer put her coat back on. He took the cream colored beanie that she pulled from her pocket and fitted it over her head. “Nice bunny tail,” he said, gently swatting the giant cotton ball sewn to the top of her knit hat.

“Watch it, Mister, or you won’t be getting any of this tail for a while,” she turned and shook her rear end at him.

Just before they headed back inside the hospital, Sawyer squeezed his hand. “Sure you don’t want to volunteer and stay for another shift?” she asked, looking up at him with a puppy dog pout.

The first time Sawyer returned to work after the attack, with her landlord in tow, it had been a complete disaster. Though things had gone better this time around, Ethan kept an eye out for any signs of distress. She had her ups and downs, and he couldn't help but worry about her. "Is everything all right?"

“Yeah, it’s fine. You don’t need to worry. I promise,” she tried to assure him, sensing his concern. “I’m just going to miss you tonight, that’s all.”

Ethan could still feel something was off, but dropped it.

🎉🪩🍾🎉🪩🍾🎉🪩🍾🎉🪩🍾

It took him twice as long to get home with New Year’s revelers heading to their festivities around town. After a light dinner, a satisfying workout, and a long, hot shower, Ethan settled on his couch. The apartment suddenly felt too quiet, too empty. He missed his girlfriend. Since Sawyer began picking up double-shifts, they had not had a lot of time alone. Sure he got to see her at work. But it wasn’t the same as curling up together on the couch and talking about their day, or kissing whenever they felt like it, or waking up in each other’s arms.

Hoping it would provide some distraction, he turned on the television and watched the local news. When the weather segment began, Ethan grew bored. He reached for a book on the coffee table, finding Sawyer’s notebook underneath. He recognized it from their DT meetings, where she took meticulous notes and sometimes doodled during their brainstorming sessions. She must have forgotten it the last time she stayed over.

The way her mind worked fascinated him. She could be discussing the differences between apples and oranges when… Click! An idea would pop into her head to check their patient for uneven skin texture, giving her the lead needed to reach a successful diagnosis.

Curious to know her thoughts about their current, undiagnosed patient, Ethan picked up the notebook and flipped through the pages. They were filled with detailed notes from each of their team meetings. Random side notes littered the margins. Tacos or burritos? He chuckled, wondering if the question was part of a diagnostic brainstorm, or if she was just hungry at the time. Turning the page to a more recent entry, he found Sawyer’s notes from a meeting he conducted last week. Ethan had attempted to inspire the team by conducting a goal-setting exercise. He asked everyone to jot down a few professional and personal goals for the new year.

Several emotions washed over Ethan as he read her goals. She was cute as hell, but his heart broke a little knowing how much weight she still carried on her shoulders.

On the TV, the New Year’s Eve countdown now aired. A correspondent stood in front of a large crowd of people gathered in Times Square. “…And according to folklore, a kiss at midnight brings luck and strength to that relationship for the rest of the year. So, who will you be kissing when the clock strikes twelve?” Ethan looked down at her list again. Is that why she wanted me to stay tonight? Was that the reason she seemed so… disappointed?

A timer in the corner of the TV screen counted down the time to the famous ball drop. Forty minutes until midnight.

Ethan never paid any mind to superstitions. Thinking back to the events of the past two years, he thought to himself, “How much worse could it get?” He shuddered at the thought, bolting to his closet where he threw on a pair of jeans and a sweater, then slipped into his running shoes. He was not going to take any chances, and most importantly, he was intent on giving Sawyer whatever she desired. If she wanted a kiss at midnight, he would make it happen. Keys and jacket in hand, the door to his apartment slammed shut behind him.

Ethan stepped into the atrium and checked the clock behind the reception desk. Fifteen minutes until midnight.

He pushed through the doors of the emergency department a couple minutes later. It was eerily quiet. The calm before the storm. In about an hour, the waiting room would be packed with reckless and unfortunate party-goers. He didn’t see Sawyer anywhere, but wanting to confirm, Ethan inquired at the triage desk.

“Happy New Year, Dr. Ramsey,” the triage coordinator greeted.

“Happy New Year, Anabel. Have you seen Dr. Brooks?”

“About an hour ago? She mentioned trying to catch a quick nap before the midnight rush.”

“Thank you.”

Ethan made his way to the on-call room nearest the emergency room. When he opened the door, the beds were full of sleeping doctors, but Sawyer was not among them. After a quick peek in the cafeteria, he headed up to the Internal Medicine floor. The hallways were dim and quiet at this time of night. He checked all the obvious places. Staff lounge, empty. Resident locker room, empty. The on-call room was also empty, save for a pager that someone had left behind. Duh!

“Could you page Dr. Brooks, please?” he asked the nurse sitting behind the circular desk. Not a moment later, the pager in his hand started to vibrate.

Of course. He wondered if this was the universe mocking him for his skepticism.

Jan, the night supervisor, quietly exited the patient’s room behind him. “Hey kiddo, I thought you went home a few hours ago?” She noticed the pager in his hand. “Did someone page you?”

“Uh, no. Jan, I’m looking for Sawy- for Dr. Brooks? Have you seen her?” he asked.

“No, hon, but I’ve seen several folks making their way up to the helipad for the fireworks. Maybe she’s up there?”

Yes! She loves fireworks. Ethan looked at his wrist. Five minutes until midnight.

After thanking the nurses, he walked with purpose to the elevator bank and punched the up button. Come on, come on! Four minutes to midnight.

When he reached the seventh floor he jogged to the helipad entrance. The automatic glass doors slid open and a frigid gush of wind hit his face. With only the light of the helipad beacons, Ethan frantically scanned the gathered crowd. She’s not here. Dammit!

He checked the time again. Two minutes until midnight.

As he turned to head back inside, he noticed a large chunk of snow falling from above. It fell from a secluded section of the rooftop that few knew how to access. Naveen referred to it as “the bird’s nest.” He shared its location with Ethan, and in turn, Ethan shared it with Sawyer. It was a place they could go when they needed a minute of peace. To his surprise, he saw what appeared to be a snowball floating in midair. Wait… not a snowball. A bunny tail!

When he reached the stairwell, he glanced at his watch again. One minute until midnight.

Climbing the stairs three at a time, he quickly ascended two flights of stairs, bursting onto the ninth floor. Thankfully these hallways were lined mostly with administrative offices and were completely abandoned given the late hour. Sprinting to the end of the long hallway, Ethan pulled on a door marked “Authorized Personnel Only.” He launched himself through the dark doorway and blindly climbed another flight of stairs.

Just as his hand reached the door at the top of the staircase, he heard an explosion on the other side. Midnight.

Sawyer jumped when she heard the steel door crash against the stone exterior of the building. Turning around, she saw Ethan. Steam puffed from his mouth as he tried to catch his breath.

With the sky sparkling behind her, he grabbed the sides of her face, and crashed his lips onto hers. Once the urgency had subsided, he changed the angle and kissed her again. Deep and tender. When he pulled away to give his lungs a chance to expand, Sawyer could see the fireworks reflected in his eyes.

Tucked in his embrace, she smiled up at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Helping you keep your New Year’s resolutions.”

She looked at him confused. “Wait... how did you know about that?” She hadn’t remembered mentioning it to him, or anyone for that matter.

“You left your notebook at my apartment.” He reached into his pocket and handed her the pager. “You also left this in the on-call room.”

“Shit. Please don’t tell my boss.”

“You’ll have to silence me with another kiss,” he smirked.

“Well, if that's what it takes...” she laughed, standing on her tiptoes. She brushed her lips against his and whispered, “Happy New Year, Ethan.”

Before claiming her lips again, he whispered back, “Happy New Year, Rookie.”

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @peonierose @potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter @queencarb @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @jamespotterthefirst @liaromancewriter @zealouscanonindeer @tveitertotwrites @tessa-liam @youlookappropriate @kyra75 @socalwriterbee @txemrn @choicesflashfics

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