#desire & decorum fanfic

[choicesficwriterscreations]

February Creator of the Month: Noesapphic

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists, and this month’s creator of the month is the lovely @noesapphic!   The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTM's can be found here.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog Masterlist

How do you want to be known on Tumblr? 

Noe is fine, really!

More below...

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played? 

I started in 2018. I was bored in a friend's house and fighting good old insomnia when I saw the app and tried it for funsies. The first book was 'High School Story'. 

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined around late 2018 early 2019 and I had just left my community in Amino because the admin had gone full puritanical dictator and I was curious about Tumblr.

3- How did you pick your blog name? 

It was simple: my nickname is Noe and I am a sapphic (aka lesbian). It's a no-brainer, really. 

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!  

It was a reblogged quote. I related to what it said and I reblogged it 

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both? 

I write fanfiction. God did not grant me art skills I'm afraid. My fingers are too fat and my pulse is terrible. 

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

I've been creating for fandoms as long as I can remember. I've had a really troubled life, so creating stuff helped me. As for Choices, I've been creating stuff since 2019 

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

Without a doubt, Desire and Decorum. The first book is simply a masterlist and its characters are so well-written, and everything about it just draws me to it. They definitely botched the other books, but it will always be in my heart. I also enjoy creating for other historical books and books that have similar themes 

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

It was a set of headcanons of Mr. Sinclaire and my MC, Celestine, finding out that they're going to be parents. While my spelling is terrible, I wouldn't change a thing. The engagement I received was such, it drove me to write for more. I haven't stopped creating since. 

9- What your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created? 

It's no secret for anyone who pays attention to my blog: my au, The Cursed Heiress, is probably my best creation. It's complex and a juggernaut of lore and history, and has all I've ever wanted in a fic and book in it. Although a close second is my Tudor AU, For Love and Duty. I simply love the 'arranged marriage' trope 

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

The second part of a one shot, A True Man, was probably one of the most difficult to write, and with a very traumatising and important theme. I was 100% hoping anon hate telling me to delete it, but found instead that the people ate it up! It has now 30 notes (which is A LOT for a small fandom like the D&D one) and now that I reread it, I'm proud of what I created and the message I wanted to send, which resonates with happenings of my past and experiences. 

11 - If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why? 

Definitely angst. There's something so cathartic and relieving as letting out those emotions you can't express out loud without being locked up for being unhinged, and it has helped me understand myself many times. Also, smut is def something that I can't physically write 😅 

12 - Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

There are small parts of me in every MC. A fragment of my past. Something of their lore that I went through. Something I aspire to be. Something I wanted to be once. I like to think that every writer leaves a part of their heart and soul with each character they create. 

13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?

Ooof, where to begin. I think the hardest part is to just write. I can go on for weeks looking at my turned-off laptop and goof off on Tumblr. But when I do write, the 'boring' parts or writing a character that I am not familiar with or that there isn't much info about can be challenging. 

14 - Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Oof, where to begin, lol. My modern AUs, The Viscountess and Plan B. There's also Your Most Ardent Admirer and For Love and Duty. There's the fix-it fic series of the Blades LIs. Profiles of my MCs from several series. And also fic ideas that I want to create, but don't know where or how to start it. Woe is me indeed 😭 

15 - If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first? 

Depends on the person. I would be very, very picky. I did show some parts of The Cursed Heiress to two trusted friends. But I wouldn't be against showing my mom a few chapters of The Viscountess… Unfortunately, she does not speak a word of English and I am terrible at translations, so it's wishful thinking, lol. 

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

For the published ones, Holly Black and Cassandra Clare have probably been my biggest help. Leigh Bardugo is also a newer inspo, and Spanish author Laura Gallego got me into fantasy, and anonymous author Bebi Fernández's raw and brutal prose have helped me find my voice. I have now bought George R.R Martin's Game of Thrones, looking for new sources to grasp. 

As for fandom-wise, the very first writer to inspire me unfortunately hasn't been active since the pandemic, and despite our differences, @hellospunkiebrewster 's writing and essays got me into Regency and its history. My thriving years were by her side, and I'm grateful of having had a great fandom friend and hyper. The most recent ones are @missameliep my amazing fandom mom (te quiero mami 🥰) and some pieces by @princess-geek 's writing have inspired me to expand my horizon. 

17- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series? 

The Cursed Heiress, definitely. I think that my messages would resonate with many people. There's also The Viscountess: many people should see the messages Nicole, Anne and others have, and for what I have planned (and have been stalling out of laziness 🫣) would put things into perspective for many minorities and certain groups that are neglected by society and governments alike.  19- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art? 

I am now at the outlining stages of making The Cursed Heiress an original novel. I tried many times to make my own novel, but always dropped it. But now that I've been for years with it, I feel like this might be the one project I dreamed of publishing one day. It's tough and scary, but I'm loving the ride so far. 

Also, I have tried my hand with poetry, but it didn't have engagement and felt like talking to a wall, so I now feel discouraged. But if someone out there is interested, lmk 👀 

20-  What other hobbies do you have?

Apart from literature, I love make-up, skincare, cooking and making gifs and videoedits. I also love travelling and discovering new adventures and learning as many languages as I am capable. I also love listening to music. Basically anything that has to do with the humanities and art, I'll take it. Also, I am very invested in modern royal gossip. I know, not very republican of me… 🫣😅 

21 - What’s your favorite emoji? 

Apparently, the one I use the most is 🫡🫶🏻👀. Heh, sounds like me, lol 

22: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).

____

Two reminders to both creators and onlookers alike: 

Creators: making content is NOT a race or a chore. It's something you make just because, and share it with the world. If you don't enjoy it, it's not worth the effort. 

Onlookers: I know how much you may love X thing, but remember that behind that art, fic, etc, there's a person with real feelings, real life and that is taking off free time to make something. Enjoy it, reblog it (please, reblog the stuff you love) and if you don't like it, filter the tag, block and move on. It's really that simple. 

Also, happy Valentine's Day AND Black History Month to the black creators of Choices! You're awesome and we love you ❤ sending you love 🥰 

#choices fic writers creations #playchoices #choices stories you play #cfwc creator of the month #noesapphic #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #february creator of the month #desire and decorum

[princess-geek]

Mr Sincaire & Countess Beatrice Foredale (by @ladylamrian)

Thank you so much, my dear!

Read the fic here.

@jeanele  ❣  @missameliep  ❣  @regencylady1810 ❣ @i-put-the-sin-in-sinclaire   ❣ @whenyourheartskipsabeat ❣ @xjustin-ethansgirliex   ❣@noesapphic  ❣  @gardeningourmet  ❣ @paisleylovergirl   ❣ @dailydoseofchoices  ❣  @rhyssescups ❣  @storyofmychoices  ❣  @a-shining-lucky-star  ❣   @lorircreates   ❣  @lorirwritesfanfic  ❣ @walkerduchess   ❣@indiacater  ❣ @kinkypot ❣ @anotherbeingsworld  ❣ @hellooliviaolivia  ❣ @pixel-writer19   ❣ @sinclaire-ity  ❣ @darknessabovethelite  ❣  @brightningstar  ❣@ezekielbhandarivalleros  ❣ @marlcasters  ❣ @bhartigat81  ❣ @lyannacyrill706  ❣ @daddytyrilstarfury   ❣ @secretaryunpaid  ❣ @allisonreilynn  ❣ @fauxleaves ❣ @twinkleallnight  ❣ @kingliamrys  ❣ @iloveethanramsey  ❣ @surewhyynot  ❣ @yvettegolx  ❣ @itlivesinpixelberry  ❣  @chutchoices ❣ @electroniccreatorwerewolf  ❣ @spookycolorpeanut  ❣ @peonierose  ❣ @quixoticdreamer16    ❣@lilyoffandoms   ❣ @tessa-liam

#desire and decorum #desire and decorum fanfic #ernest sinclaire #desire & decorum #ernest sinclaire x mc

[jerzwriter]

Let me preface this by saying it's not all about notes. If notes were of paramount importance to me, I would have been in another fandom and made vastly different decisions with the pairings that I write for. So, it's not about notes… but an observation.

The fandom was already in decline when I joined. In fact, some bigger creators had already left because so many had left. Even so, it was a very different landscape 2 years ago.

Back then, the unwritten rule (as explained to me by a now-gone creator) was 100. If a fic got over 100 notes, it was good; if it was under, it wasn't.

I never put stock in that because I've read phenomenal fics with well under 100 notes. In a fandom that tends to be very transactional and where politics plays a big part in notes, it was never a gauge for me.

But, as the fandom grew smaller, 100 notes became a near impossibility. Many creators have left as a result, and while it's easy to judge, I can understand. It's difficult to put your heart and soul into your work and have it get very little to no interaction. I think those who remain are the diehards; we’re clearly here because we love the content and the community.

That said, I’m curious about what other writers think about the notes they receive today? Is there a number where you say, "OK, it was worth making post-worthy?"

Personally, anything over 50 leaves me giddy these days. lol If it's in the 30 range, I’m content. But it’s funny because I write for Wake the Dead. I know those fics are lucky if they get 20 notes, but it doesn't stop me. I've gotten some of the most self-satisfaction from writing those stories, and having even one enthusiastic reader is so gratifying. So, what about you...

#playcoices #playchoices fanfic #choices the stories you play #choices fanfic #open heart #crimes of passion #the royal romance #bloodbound #immortal desires #red carpet diaries #perfect match #wake the dead #nightbound #desire and decorum #it lives #blades of light and shadow #guenevier #<- Using the fics we've reached most of at CFWC for tags #my polls

[missameliep]

In honor of BOOP DAY (April 1st 2024), writers, share a WIP of your's and replace each verb with the word "boop". Let's boop!!! 🐱 Then reblog + tag your beloved boops and the one who booped you last. Tag many as possible

Thanks for sending this ask, @ladylamrian! It was so much fun! I had such a hard time picking only one was almost impossible, so I'm sharing two WIPs in honor of Boop Day, one from the next chapter of Second Chances (Desire & Decorum AU) and one from an Untitled Wake the Dead oneshot:

Briar’s eyes boop the man almost boop down the hallway, and she boop.  “Does it boop in the family?”  With a puzzled look, Elizabeth’s eyes boop to the same direction Briar boop and she boop a glimpse of Edmund boop down the hall, “What does?”   “Boop cute and a dork?”  

“I’ll boop in there and you boop here.”  “Of course. It’s my dare, you boop for it.”  “Why you boop this anyway?”  “Stars.”  “What?” His eyes boop to her face, and she boop her gaze, suddenly boop in her worn sneakers boop with many colorful doodles. 

Tagging some of my lovely mutuals (feel free to ignore it, though): @princess-geek @noesapphic @lorirwritesfanfic @lilyoffandoms @storyofmychoices @jerzwriter @aallotarenunelma and whoever feels like doing it

#ask box! #wip game #choices fanfic #desire and decorum #desire and decorum fanfic #wtd fanfic #wtd choices #briar daly #oc: elizabeth foredale #troy hassan #malia jones #my wips

[lizzybeth1986]

Hindsight is 20/20

Book: The Royal Romance (with references to Desire and Decorum)

Characters: Hana Lee & Peter Foredale (OC) (platonic), Hana Lee x Kiara Theron. References to Annabelle x MC from D&D.

Rating: PG

Word Count: 5000+ words

Summary: Hana and Kiara travel to England...after recieving a letter from Hana's former fiancè. Hana explores her journey as a bi woman in a walk down memory lane.

A/N1: This takes place three years after the events of TRR3. Hana and Kiara are married and have an 8-month old child at this point. Peter Foredale in this universe is both the "Lord Peter" Hana mentioned in TRR1 (who was engaged to her then broke the match) and the current head of Countess Florence Foredale's (my D&D MC) estate, Edgewater. Faceclaims here.

Tagging @choicesficwriterscreations for FoTW and @choicespride for National Coming Out Day (Thursday).

"Ready, darling?"

Hana nods mutely. She is, after all, ready in all the ways Mother wanted her to be. Face serene, back straight, gown resplendent.

You look like a vision, the dressmaker gushed a while ago when she saw the results of her handiwork, I cannot wait to see the look on Viscount Foredale's face when he sees you!

Inside the satin gloves, her hands begin to tremble.

Viscount Peter Foredale. Gentleman. Up-and-coming barrister. A regular on the magazine spreads. The most eligible bachelor in all of England. Most of all...a wonderful, kind friend.

And after tonight...her future husband.

Her stomach tightens in a sick lurch.

--

"Doing okay?" Kiara asks her wife, running a thumb gently over their daughter's left cheek. Her other hand settles at the small of Hana's back, tracing soothing circles. The child shifts her attention from the pearl button she's been chewing, to coo at Mama Kiki's touch.

"Yeah... she's fine," Hana replies, her voice grainy with fatigue. "Put her in any sort of moving vehicle, and she's the world's happiest baby."

Kiara releases a laugh from pursed lips. There is nothing their 8-month-old loves more than being carried around; if you try to sit down, even for a minute, she will bash her hands against your chest and moan for you to get up and move around again.

Her eyes, however, never leave Hana's face - not the downturned lips, not the concealer-masked dark shadows under her eyes.

"I wasn't talking about Chaima," she says quietly.

Hana closes her eyes. It's easy enough to dissemble her nervousness when Chaima is in her arms, but not when Kiara is pinning her with that piercing, knowing gaze. That gaze has always been Hana's undoing.

"Look at you, asking me all the hard questions at 11 in the morning."

Kiara sighs, and fiddles with Chaima's curls. "Your arms must be aching, ma moitié. Let me have her just a bit. Rest now; we'll be reaching Edgewater in half an hour."

Hana sighs and nods. She doesn't want to let go of Chaima yet - it would be so much easier, pushing every other thought aside when this lovely golden child is in her arms...and she suspects that's part of the reason Kiara wants to take over. Don't put off things just because you think you can't handle them perfectly, habibti.

Kiara tucks Chaima's head gently on her shoulder, crooning an old lullaby in Darija. Nīnī yā moūmoū...Hattā tjī ‘andou moū...Sleep my baby...until your Mommy arrives...

Chaima thumps her little hands against Mama Kiki's breasts in approval. Sighing, Hana takes out the letter that brought her here.

Dear Hana,

I hope you, your wife and your little one are well. It's springtime here at Edgewater, we have plenty visitors in the afternoons, touring the gardens and the lake. Mabel has been renovating the house again - she's been insisting I leave the Regency-style furniture in the Regency era and go for something more contemporary (I'm right!).

Little Alphonsa thanks you for her copy of "A Smart Cookie". I'm sure she'll love the message in a few years...but for now all she can see are the cupcakes, the croissants and the macarons. I'm quite proud of the fact; in this one area she takes after her father.

Despite her nervousness, Hana cannot resist a small smile. It's been good to hear from Peter again, truly. He has always been a serious man, whose humour slips through in the most unexpected moments, and it shows in his letters. And from his wife's rare interjections in his letter, she can tell Mabel is the more open, outgoing one.

It had all begun a year ago. They hadn't spoken at all in the years since their engagement had fallen apart, first out of bitterness and then out of shame. Somewhere in those early days, he'd resented her for those dreams left unfulfilled, and somewhere she half-hated him for leaving her to deal with aftermath, alone.

But when she'd heard the news of Earl William Foredale's death from her father, it felt odd not to give him a call. They'd known each other long enough for Hana to understand how hard Peter would have been hit - this man he'd loved and worshipped and wanted to follow on the footsteps of - and whether or not her presence was welcome she knew she needed to at least try.

You reached out after years of silence and offered only compassion, he wrote to her months later, For that, I can never thank you enough.

She looks to the final lines in the letter. Just to see if there's something she's missing, something hidden between the lines. Perhaps, an courtesy-invitation to an old friend he would much rather not see again.

You mentioned in your last letter that you'd be in London two months from now. I would like to extend an informal invitation to visit the Edgewater estate, and our family, when you are here. It would be nice to catch up.

His letters to her have been nothing but sweet. Warm. Tentative in their attempts to speak about anything but that which caused them to part. And for that, she is grateful.

Still. That prickle of fear remains.

--

The foyer of the mansion is elegant, imposing. From the parlour nearby she can faintly hear the sounds of an excited child attempting to converse with Chaima, occasionally asking Kiara if she can touch her hand. My baby, my cupcake, we'll give you lots and LOTS of milk and carrot smash!

(I think you mean mash, Kiara replies, sounding amused and more than a little charmed by the girl already)

The Persian rug is soft beneath Hana's feet, and the oak panels shine in the patch of sunlight streaming in through the windows. But that is not what catches her attention.

A portrait on the side, of a young woman in an ocean-blue gown that bears the insignia of a unicorn and an eagle, in gold and silver. An elegant shawl around her shoulders. In her face is the pride of a woman who seems to have fought for her place here, and won. Next to her, a calm, brown-haired man, hands kept behind him. Straightening his back, trying to stand tall, trying to match the stature of the lady he just married...but happy to be there.

"That's Florence Foredale," a rich, deep voice speaks from behind, "Countess of Edgewater. 1817 to 1867." The woman who approaches her walks with grace and confidence, hips swaying slightly as she walks. On her wine-coloured lips, a small smile. "Good afternoon, Your Grace."

Hana laughs, relieved that Peter's wife seems every bit as happy to see her as she sounds in his letters. "I've heard about her. She's quite famous in Cordonia...especially in my wife's province." She gives the other woman a teasing grin. "And we're not in Cordonia anymore, Your Excellency."

"Mabel," she interjects. "Not very many people call me by my name nowadays, and I rather miss the sound of it."

Hana nods, smiling. "Mabel it is," she says.

"Hana," Mabel responds, her eyes brown and speculative, but softening when their gazes meet. "Peter's in the study. He said he'll be joining us in a couple of minutes."

Hana's spine clenches in a mixture of anticipation and dread. If Mabel notices an involuntary twitch from her guest, she chooses not to tell.

--

Hana closes her eyes. Lifts her chin. Tries not to sweat under the harsh camera lights. Involuntarily tightens her fist until the photographer tells her she looks a little too tense.

She can feel Peter's hands, holding her by the waist like she is glass and he's afraid he could break her. She can feel his breath near her ear, slow and measured. She can almost hear him swallow his nervousness in his throat, and wonders if he is just as terrified as she is.

She waits for the feel of his lips on hers. The one she's read about in books, secretly watched in her cousins' favourite films. The one that's supposed to release a million butterflies in your stomach, the one that softly parts your lips like they're made of silk, smooth and sensuous. Already she can feel him growing closer...closer...

"OWWW!!!"

Peter finds her half an hour later in the kitchen, calming herself down with a few small squares of chocolate. Guiltily, she notes the still-blood-red bruising on his bottom lip. She runs her fingers over the delicate filigree earring they chose for the occasion, still unsure why his frown is one of worry, not disgust.

"Are you alright?"

She sniffles, almost hating him for being so kind. "I should be asking you that."

Surprisingly, he offers her a lopsided smile, making his swollen lip even more prominent than before.

"Well, see. At least I landed somewhere in the vicinity of your face this time," Peter says, chuckling, "Give me a little more practice. I promise it will be your cheek next."

Fresh tears spring in Hana's eyes - this time tears of laughter.

--

"How's this, Auntie Hana!" little Alphonsa chirps, enthusiastically swinging a rattle to Chaima's face, "Am I doing it right? Does Chaima like it? Do you? Do youuuuuu?"

The last two sentences are addressed to the baby bundled in Hana's lap, applesauce running down her mouth. Chaima looks away from her food to gift her slightly older companion a gummy, two-toothed smile. Shaking the rattle is typically the job of whichever mother has her hands free, but Peter's little daughter insisted on keeping her tiny guest happy and submerged in toys for the two days that they were here.

"Yes, Alphie," Kiara blows her a flying kiss, "you're a natural!"

Hana gives Alphonsa an affectionate pinch on the cheek with her free hand. "Chaima lights up every time she sees you, darling, and so do we."

Right next to Hana, Peter grins. It's the first genuine smile she has seen from him since they started talking, and Hana is struck by how alike he and his daughter look right now.

"Alphonsa loves babies," he explains, "or any child, really, they just have to be younger than her. It sets her big-sister instincts abuzz."

Hana sighs, shaking her head and remembering her own days as the only child. Her chandelier earrings swing around her neck as she laughs.

It fascinates her, really, how at ease they are with each other when they're talking about their children. Ever since she came here, their conversations have been awkward, stilted, punctuated with pregnant pauses that harbour all the words they're too afraid to say to each other. They've been trying so hard to be normal around each other, Hana realizes, and failing.

But as parents, they've never been better friends.

"Wait a minute," Peter's voice sounds a little bemused, suddenly, "is that -"

It is only when Hana follows his line of sight that she realizes exactly which earrings she's worn for this visit.

In that moment, she wants to dig a hole beneath the parlour floor and bury herself there.

"Yes," she says, sheepishly, "I'm sorry, I didn't think..."

Peter raises his eyebrows, then turns to look at Kiara and Mabel. As they both watch their wives talk animatedly, lost in their own conversation together, Peter suddenly turns back to Hana with a mischievous grin.

"Don't be," he says, "I'm just grateful we both managed to get better kissing practice. Less bloodshed that way."

Hana stares at him, then breaks into peals of silent giggles. It isn't even that funny...not to anyone else anyway...but the dry tone and the memories make it hard for her to stop laughing.

God. She isn't sure what else may happen to cast a shadow on this golden time, this lovely reunion...but if there is one thing Hana has missed up her old friend...it's this.

--

It is on their second day at Edgewater, that Countess Mabel requests Hana accompany her for a short walk.

Edgewater Lake is a tranquil, limpid little paradise, tucked away behind the estate's beautiful gardens and sprawling grounds. The aroma of bay willow and birch trees is alluring and soothing all at once, and even the ducks seem to float languidly over the water.

Mabel smiles in satisfaction at the sponge cakes in her box, kept specially for the ducks. She offers some to Hana, and together they throw the crumbs in the lake, watching in rapt attention as the ducks practically spring into life, squabbling over who gets which piece.

"I don't think I've ever felt more at peace anywhere in this estate than here," Mabel says. "I found this place quite by accident on my first week here, when I was too intimidated with the rest of the house and the estate. It's been my safe space ever since."

"It's a beautiful place," Hana smiles, remembering Sôse - the lake near the Cordonian Royal Palace. Its clear waters, its free-spirited birds, that distinctive smell of yellow crocus flowers that now reminds her of home. Where she was once told she would become a Duchess. Where Kiara had proposed to her, seven months later.

"Many tales speak of Countess Florence having picnics here."

"With her husband?" Hana says with an arched eyebrow, knowing full well the true answer.

"No. Her...companion. Miss Annabelle Parsons of Hazelvale."

"Parsons? As in the artist who painted Woman's Waltz and Rose Gold Reminiscence?"

"Yes," Mabel says, a faint smile on her lips, "I'm certain you've heard all the stories."

"Not until recently," Hana whispered, remembering just how ignorant she felt, those first few months after she realized she loved women more often than she loved men. How much there was for her to learn. She remembered sitting up some nights after she came out in public, wondering just what to call herself. Am I lesbian? Am I bisexual? Why are most of the people I get attracted to, women? And how can I say I'm lesbian if I've still found myself gravitating towards at least one or two men?

It took Kiara to convince her that she needed to stop overthinking, that changing her mind about who she was didn't mean she was lying to herself. To feel good about learning at her own pace. When she first heard about Florence Foredale, Hana hadn't even known what a lavender marriage was. "I wasn't really out to anyone until I started living in Cordonia."

Mabel's smile grows wider. "Me too. I'm bisexual."

Hana sucks in a breath. "Really?"

"Yes."

"When did you realize?"

Mabel's smile is swift and regretful. "I had an inkling in my early twenties...but I was deep in denial until at least two years ago."

Hana nods, placing a hand on Mabel's shoulder. "That sounds a lot like my journey. I don't think I could even articulate who I thought I was before I left Shanghai."

"Before Peter and I met, I was a young girl brought up in a very strict Goan Catholic family," she says, "You never even uttered the words gay or bisexual around our house." She sighs, heavily, seeming to remember her first year at Edgewater. "I was so scared. The timing was all so wrong. What was I going to do, now that I knew? What was I going to tell Peter?"

Hana winces. She had the same fears the night of their engagement...only now she can give those questions a name. The memory of his face is blinding in its clarity: contorted in pain, his mouth uttering questions she wasn't sure she would ever have the answers for...Is this what you want? Am I what you want??

The way the scales fell from his eyes as she fought to stop her tears.

And then he had left. Left that secluded hallway, left her house, left China. News of the broken match came from her parents.

She had become "damaged goods" overnight. Without a single hair on her head being touched.

Silently, Mabel reaches out and takes Hana's hand, squeezing it in understanding and an attempt to comfort. Hana presses her eyes closed. She doesn't want this woman's pity. Not after this long, when it's too little too late.

Hana is afraid of the answer. But she still has to ask.

"How did Peter react?"

"Afraid."

If her eyes weren't closed already, she would have done so right now, cursing herself for coming here. All this time...and she'd really convinced herself he'd changed...but if he was treating his lawfully-wedded wife this way -

"Not of me," Mabel says softly, her hand moving to touch Hana's arm now, "Of himself. He never quite forgave himself for what you had to go through after he left."

Hana sucks in a horrified breath. "He knew?"

Even before she did?? And he never once tried to talk to her about it?

"Not right away. Not that you weren't straight." Mabel says, nervously fingering a sapphire bracelet on her wrist. "It took him years to make sense of it. When the announcement of your marriage to Kiara came out...and then that magazine spread you'd made on Trend for Pride in Cordonia...several things began falling into place."

"Before or after you came out to him?"

"After," Mabel whispers, "I won't pretend it was perfect. I won't say he understood everything all at once . But he did try...and he still keeps trying."

Hana lets out a sigh of relief. It feels good, knowing that the phantom she had built in her head of him isn't entirely accurate.

"More than once when he's spoken about you," Mabel begins again, slowly, "he's told me that he thinks neither of you had a clue you loved women back then. He said you didn't seem to have enough space to ask questions about who you were or what you wanted."

"He's right," Hana says, staring unseeingly at the ripples on the lake. "When I fell in love for the first time, in Cordonia, it was hell. I had no idea what I was feeling, I couldn't get over the fact that it was a woman...and she was lost to me before I could even hope to win her."

Mabel smiles. "...and then you met Kiara."

Hana chuckles, a glow trickling down and filling every inch of her being...as it always does when she remembers their first days after they confessed their love to each other. "And then I met Kiara."

The two women walk further, looking out towards the lake rather than at each other. Hana gropes around in her mind desparately for a change in subject.

"I feel like I've seen this place before, even though this is my first time personally visiting Edgewater."

"It's possible," Mabel concedes. "Several films have been shot here. I think my favourite one so far has been that one with Cassandra Leigh in it... what's its name...?"

"A Timeless Heart," Hana replies, wonderingly. Even as she answers she finds herself awash with memories. Memories she'd kept locked away since Peter had left...yet something about this particular one demands she revisit it today.

They're at the home theatre Father and Mother had installed, just before Peter's parents agreed to their match. Peter tries - not too subtly - to place his arm around her. Hana obediently folds her hands on her lap, and hopes he doesn't realize they built this room specifically for him.

"Did you know," he inches himself a little closer to her, whispering, "this scene was shot a few years ago at a lake close to our house."

Hana does not answer. Her eyes are glued to the screen, glued to the woman with dark hair and wine-red lips, the camera almost caressing her face. The hero, who Hana is suddenly grateful she cannot see, takes a freshly-bloomed rose from his pocket, gently brushing her cheek with it. She gifts him a slow smile in invitation. Yes.

He brings the rose to his lips, and Hana fully expects him to return it to his pocket, but he does not. Instead he brings it back to Cassandra Leigh's face again.

The petals caress Cassandra's cheek like velvet on silk, moving slowly, sensuously, down the line of her jaw. The length of her hair. Her rosebud mouth. It moves across the expanse of her face, and Cassandra responds to the flower as she would the touch of a lover.

As the flower moves languidly over her silken skin...and Cassandra's expression shifts between confusion and desire and pure bliss, Hana feels a softening deep within her. It's a sensation she has never quite felt before. It moves, again, again, almost as if the petals are kissing her - not the man holding them.

It's almost as if he doesn't exist. It's almost as if no one exists, just her. And this woman.

When the projector breaks down immediately after, and Peter gets up - grumbling about missing the best part of the film - she suddenly stares at her fiancé-to-be like she can barely recognize him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" It's Mabel. Hana shifts uneasily at her piercing gaze.

"I was just thinking..." Hana murmurs, still bemused by the revelation, "sometimes all the signs can be right in front of you - staring you in the face - and you won't even realize that that weird feeling at the pit of your stomach was desire."

Mabel nods slowly, her smile one of recognition.

"Yeah...I've had a couple of crushes I didn't even realize were crushes until later."

"It's funny," Hana replies with a small laugh, "this entire time I've been thinking my love for women suddenly burst into life when I came to Cordonia and met Esther...but it's been there all along. It just took me a while to see it. To give it a name."

"Well...you know what they always say," Mabel lays a soft hand on Hana's arm, "Hindsight is 20/20."

--

"And this...this is Earl Vincent the First," Peter says, pointing to the portrait of a man in 15th century finery on the wall of his study. "Quite the character. He's said to have spied on both sides during the Wars of the Roses."

Hana smiles. "I know of at least one Duchess back home who would love to hear that story."

It's their last day in Edgewater, and Peter has summoned her to the study. Hana wills away the still-slight prickle of fear that he will rake up the past. They've spoken often enough; the topic could have easily come up if he so chose.

"and this...this is my most famous ancestor - appointed Championess of the Realm by Queen Charlotte herself - Countess -"

"- Florence," Hana whispers. The young woman in the portrait is still dressed in her house colours of blue and gold, but holds a white rose to her bosom. Her gaze seems to focus on the artist, brimming with emotions she cannot yet express. Hana is confident that if she strained her eyes long enough, she would find Parsons scribbled at the bottom-right corner of the painting.

"Yes," he says, a faint smile on his lips, "I hear that back in Castelserraillan they've made a film on her life."

"She's quite popular there."

"For good reason, I imagine," Peter says, "Most of what used to be considered 'rumour' about her is...in effect...true."

Hana's eyes widen. The stories of Countess Florence Foredale marrying Mr Chambers but pledging her vows to Miss Parsons...that she gleefully officiated her "husband's" own union to another man on their wedding night...they are fairly common knowledge. Common knowledge that you'd never expect the heir to her estate to confirm.

"Among us descendants, no one knows for sure whether her son was part of the Foredale bloodline in the way the ton of those times would have wanted it," Peter stares at the Countess' portrait, hands clasped behind his back, every inch this woman's heir. "But she left behind a legacy. A legacy I am proud of. A legacy I long to live up to."

Remembering her conversation with Mabel at the lake, Hana says, "From what I've heard, you already are."

Peter's answering smile is one of sad knowing. "You've been talking to Mabel."

Flushing, Hana nods. "I have."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "She often gives me more credit than I deserve."

Hana laughs. "I think I'll let her be the judge of that."

She can see Peter's shoulders heave in a deep, deep sigh. He walks away from the hundreds of ancestral portraits, back to his table, running a fingernail across its wooden surface. His eyes are cast downwards, almost as if he can't bring himself to look at her.

Hana freezes, anticipating the difficult conversation ahead.

"Hana," he says, his voice suddenly rough, "I wanted to hate you so badly in the beginning."

Her stomach drops to her feet. "I know."

"I kept telling myself, she could have opened up to me, anytime. I stayed at her home three while weeks; she could have let me know then. I convinced myself that I was a match you carelessly chose to sleepwalk into, that you considered me another chore to get done."

Tears spring in Hana's eyes. "I couldn't understand what was happening to me back then. I still don't."

Peter moves behind the table, running his fingers through the knob of one of the drawers. His own eyes seem clouded, she notes with a pang.

"Mabel told me once...the process to figuring out who you are isn't always going to be linear. You're never going to figure it out all in one go," he finally raises his eyes to hers, "Was it like that for you?"

Hana swallows. "It's still like that for me. There are still parts of this journey that are yet to make sense."

"I could have stayed back. Talked to you. Tried to help somehow, though god knows whether I'd have messed it all up further. I could have tried." Peter's voice is flat, almost deceptively lacking emotion. Only his eyes betray his recrimination of himself. "Instead I ran off. Leaving you to face all the questions."

"You didn't!" Hana's own voice is suddenly hoarse, roused by his self-flagellation into passionate defense. "Don't think I didn't notice, Peter. Before you left, you and your family made use of every contact you could find...to kill most of the gossip surrounding our breakup. Neither I nor my family found out until two years later."

Peter shakes his head in disbelief. "But -"

"You didn't get all of it right. I know that. People still managed to spread the word, and I kept getting raked over the coals for it, even after I married Kiara." Hana takes a deep breath, exhausted from her tirade. "You hated me then, but you were still willing to do that for me. If you really want to know how worthy you are of Florence Foredale's lineage, you can start right there."

Peter sighs. "Let me apologize for not trying to understand, at least."

She lets out a watery laugh. "Apology accepted."

He searches her eyes for affirmation, and nods, opening the drawer he had been running his fingers through mere minutes ago.

"Come here," he mumbles finally, leafing through a sheaf of papers, "I have something I've been wanting to show you. Ever since we started writing each other."

It's sketches of the same woman - in various moods, various poses...the drawings themselves in various stages of completion. These aren't formal portraits, set up over stand and easel, its subjects motionless. No - these are poetry in motion, impatiently etched, capturing their subject in all her vibrancy and fierce spirit. Here she is, head thrown back in (at least in Hana's imagination) loud raucous laughter, the wind in her hair. And here, yet again, holding a little boy up in the air, his tiny hands reaching out to caress her face.

Here is one made by the Countess - herself an accomplished artist - of her wife standing tall and proud, an eagle perched on her right arm, her left hand caressing a unicorn.

Her heart almost stops when she sees the final painting - the artist Parsons herself, arms wound around the other woman's waist, her chin tucked against the Countess' shoulder. Their fingers seem woven together, so that you cannot quite tell which ones belong to whom. The Countess herself looks to their interwoven hands with a mixture of desire, and longing, and pain.

Hana runs a hand over the couple, her touch almost reverent. Her heart twists a little at the strength of their love, the immense injustice of their loss. "No one else has seen these before."

"No one," Peter agrees, "except my wife. We unearthed these just days after Father died. And a week before you made that call." He picks the last drawing up, his eyes brimming with affection. "When you rang us so soon after that, it felt like a sign. Like I had one more chance to make things right."

Hana takes his hand, pressing it between hers. "You and Mabel have done more than that. I'll never forget this visit. You both owe us a trip to Cordonia, now."

Cautiously, tentatively, Peter gives her a hug.

"I'd like you to have this last painting," he says gruffly, passing her the one she'd touched so reverently mere moments ago. "It just feels right, you having this. There's a lot of things my ancestor didn't have...that I'm glad you and my Mabel finally get the space to explore."

"And even then, we had to navigate so much to get there," Hana responds. "All we can do really is pass it forward. Make it easier for the next generation, and the next, and the next."

Peter gifts her a rueful smile. "I'll try my best to do just that, Hana. I promise you."

--

Little Alphonsa giggles and gives Kiara a drawing of herself and Chaima, as a keepsake. Already Kiara plans to have it framed and put up in her nursery.

Mabel has a gift of her own, too. Just before Hana leaves, she slips a small package into her bag, insisting she only open it when they're closer to the airport.

The car that takes them to the airport weaves through traffic slowly, steadily, in no particular rush. In an hour's time, Chaima is asleep on Kiara's lap, and Kiara herself has dozed off, mumbling gibberish in her dreams.

Quietly, Hana takes out the package, tears open the wrapper. A letter falls out.

H -

Since you like Cassandra Leigh so much, I thought you might like The Warmest Winter. You'll know why when you watch. Thank me later.

Love,

M.

It's a CD cover for a film. Two women, gazing into each other's eyes in reverent devotion, their gazes speaking a million promises that their lips can never tell. Hana presses the CD to her chest and whispers a prayer of gratitude.

A sleeping Kiara shifts her neck ever-so-slightly in Hana's direction, murmuring her name softly. Her hand still lies - soft. protective - over Chaima's stomach.

Hana keeps the CD back in the larger bag she's carrying - the one that holds those precious paintings.

Seems like our plans are set for next date night, wife. She brushes away a strand of hair from Kiara's forehead, kissing it. I just can't wait.

--

Notes:

Ma moitié - French for "my other half"

Nīnī yā moūmoū - Moroccan lullaby (link here)

A Timeless Heart and The Warmest Winter are both Cassandra Leigh films in the Choices universe.

Inspiration for the Timeless Heart scene in the movie-watching section, came from a rather sensuous (by our 50s Bollywood standards!) Hindi film scene in Mughal-e-Azam, where the hero caresses the heroine with a feather. See:

You can watch the full song here and the scene in question is from 2.10-3.00.

#hana lee #hanaleeappreciationweek #HLAW #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #HLAW Day 3 #HLAW Day 3: Pride Parade #lizzybeth1986 #content: fanfic #kiara theron #desire and decorum #annabelle parsons #hana lee x kiara theron #hana x kiara #annabelle parsons x mc #long post

[lorirwritesfanfic]

Niceness Test

Book: Desire & Decorum Pairing: Prince Hamid x MC (Daphne) Rating: T Word count: 9481 Reading time: ~38min (… 🫣) Summary: After receiving a box of childhood treasures, Daphne is challenged to prove she still would make it to Santa's nice list. Author’s notes:

Daphne Wang, Kyle and Stacy Evigan are creations of this author. The others characters are owned by Pixelberry Studios;

Yes, it's a Christmas fic. In May. I started writing this in December to answer @missameliep's ask and it became this monster of a fic with mini stories in it. Sorry not sorry;

No fictional kids nor fishes were harmed in this piece. Daphne and Briar just have a very "peculiar" sense of humor 😅

Warning: This piece contains brief mentions of adult material (alcohol abuse, solvent intoxication). Reader discretion is advised.

Ithaca (NY), first week of December 2022

Loud barks echoed from the lounge whilst Daphne set up the dining table for dinner. As she caught the sight of Maya running through the hallway, the front door opened. Once Hamid's laughter reverberated through the walls, it wasn't hard for her to guess what happened. Maya probably rushed to climb on him whilst Drake threw himself at Hamid's feet and his entire chubby body shook in excitement. Their pets were always happier when Hamid was home. A sentiment she wholeheartedly shared with them.

"Aşkım?"

"Just a second!" She answered and continued to fold the napkins.

But before she could finish it, she yelped as warm lips brushed against her neck.

"How dare you deny me my welcome home kiss, Miss Wang?" Hamid murmured against her skin.

"I wasn't denying you a kiss..." She spun around to give him a peck. "I was postponing it."

"And I hope you have a plausable reason for this."

"I do."

The lady pointed to the green napkins on the plates.

"You and the napkin foldings again..." He tsked.

"Hamidciğim, we're hosting our first Christmas Eve supper in three weeks! I have to prepare myself for it."

"By folding napkins into layered triangles?" He asked as he walked into the kitchen to wash his hands.

"It's a Christmas tree!" She protested.

"Is it?"

When Hamid returned to the dining room, she placed a small shiny star on top of every napkin folded into Christmas trees.

"Oh..." He nodded, admiring her handiwork. "I see it now. Nice touch."

"Thank you."

"But are we expecting guests or can we eat now? I smelled spicy chicken pad thai the minute I walked in." He pouted.

"You can eat, silly... I was just practicing folding the napkins while waiting for you."

"Thank you, my dove." He placed a kiss on her cheek and took a seat on the table. "You got a package from Mrs. Daly," he prompted.

"Finally!" She grinned and rushed to the lounge to search for the package. Daphne rarely could contain her curiosity about any mail they received, even if she didn't know the content. Once she found the package, the lady then opened a drawer to find anything sharp to cut the packaging open.

"Aşkım, can't you open it after dinner?"

"You know I can't wait," she replied as the letter opener cut through the brown sealing tape.

"But I'm starving!"

She giggled. Hamid never hid from her how much he disliked having meals by himself and she found it adorable that even their pets obliged to his request. Grabbing the package, she returned to the dining room, where Hamid and their pets had already started their meals.

"You didn't need me here." She pursed her lips.

"I beg to differ," he said with a wink. "What's in there?"

"I don't know. I just cut the tape. Give me a second."

Her lips curled upwards as she looked through the content of the package.

"Oh, man..." Her eyes gleamed as she picked up a rag doll wearing a traditional hanfu dress and hugged it. After unfolding a letter that was on top of the doll, she began to read it.

Edgewater, November 22, 2022.

Dear Daphne,

I hope all is well with you and Hamid. Do you remember that when we moved here, you accidentally ended up with my box of kitchen utensils and losing one of your boxes? Well, whilst cleaning the attic last week, I found this box among a few untouched ones that I believed it was Briar's old clothes and decided to send it to you. I'm happy to have found your missing box and, hopefully, its content will bring you as much joy as it used to when you were a kid.

Love, Pavarti Daly.

His brows shot up in surprise. "Is it the box you thought was lost for good when you moved to the UK?"

"Yeah..." Daphne croaked whilst she produced dusty sketchbooks and old opera playbills from inside of a pocket worn out Pucca backpack.

Hamid then sauntered over to her and wrapped his arms around her. "Are you okay?"

"Mmhmm..." She sighed, returning the hug. "I thought you were starving."

"I am, but I can wait."

"Thank you… I needed this," she murmured, pressing her head against his chest.

"I had a feeling you did," he said, kissing her temple before looking down at the box. "Is that a Hello Kitty cellphone?"

"Yeah..." She then reached for the mobile and opened one side of the cat shaped device to inspect it. "How did you know?"

"Malak had one of these. This thing has the most annoying ringtones..." He made a face.

"They weren't annoying."

"If you were raised with Edmund and Harry, they certainly would've sided with me."

She playfully elbowed him, making him chuckle.

"Just so you know, I'm very attached to it."

"Why?"

Her thumb brushed against the mobile buttons. "This was my first phone. It was the first Christmas gift dad gave me. Mum didn't approve of it in the beginning. 'What would a twelve year old do with a cellphone?'" Her nostrils flared and lips twisted in scowl as she mimicked Mary's voice. "But dad said he needed a special line so he could talk to his favourite girl in the world. I was over the moon when he said that. And though mum set a bunch of rules for me to use it, she let me keep it."

"Vay, vay, vay...¹" Hamid marvelled. "Convincing your mother into accepting the phone is one thing. But winning his daughter's and former wife's hearts with one single line? Lord Vincent never ceases to amaze me."

"I know, right?" Daphne beamed. "I used that phone for years until dad bought me the Sailor Moon smartphone."

"The one that came with a selfie stick as shaped as Princess Serenity's wand you still have."

"The very same. But when I inherited my father's title, Lady Grandmother gave me an iPhone and said an accomplished lady should leave these childish things behind." Daphne looked down at the box and fiddled with the glittery wings of a fairy Barbie.

"I wonder how Lady Dominique would feel about the fact that I often make video conferences in an office cramped with action figures we use as bookshelf holders."

She giggled.

"What else did you get in there?"

"Curious, aren't we?"

"How can I not be? Look at this!" He picked up a photograph of two year old Daphne beaming as she wore a traditional qipao dress for lunar new year.

"Oh, I remember this! I still lived in Shanghai when mum took it. I think we were at a temple fair…” She said, analyzing the picture more thoroughly. “I haven't seen this picture in years!"

"One more reason we should keep looking. By the way, this is mine now," he declared, taking the photo frame back.

"Hamid!"

"Consider it my Christmas gift this year."

"But I already bought you a gift!"

“My dove, you have to stop spoiling me on Christmas…” He joked.

“I don’t! You keep confiscating things from me and then saying it’s your Christmas gift!”

“Lies…”

Daphne shook her head and continued to rummage through the box.

"Anything interesting?"

"Not exactly..." she answered, glancing at worn out Coney Island souvenirs, old movie tickets and dusty sketchbooks. "I'll probably throw some of these out though."

"Why?"

"Because they're old and dirty."

"You never throw away sketchbooks."

"But I have to see if they're in good condition or not. "

She grabbed a dirty teddy bear with a paw and an ear missing.

Hamid immediately sneezed.

"I guess some of these aren't worth keeping. Gesundheit," she said, offering him a spare napkin.

"Thank you. Aşkım, you don't have to throw it out. We can get it cleaned."

"It has parts missing. If we throw it in the washing machine or send it somewhere to clean up, the remaining parts might fall off."

Hamid looked at the worn out and dirty teddy bear. "Are you sure? You've been missing the content of this box for so long."

"It's just an old toy. I'll survive without it."

As Daphne continued to see the content of the box, Hamid's eyes landed a small bundle of notes tied by a red string.

"What are those?"

Daphne reached for the small pile of notes when it suddenly hit her. "Old Christmas wish lists."

"Christmas wish lists?" Hamid's brows knitted together. "I thought kids could only ask for one gift."

"No, you can make a list with everything you want and put it in the letter. But mum never let me ask for more than three gifts. She used to say Santa can't carry a full bag just with gifts for me. Most grownups, including both of my grandmothers, praised mum for it. They used to say it was a smart way to teach me about thinking of others and not becoming selfish."

"I wouldn't have expected anything less from Mrs. Wang." Hamid smiled fondly. "So are these?"

"Draft lists. I made one every year and mum helped me choose three gifts and write the letters."

His brows shot up in surprise. "How old were you when you started doing wishlists?"

"Hm..." She squinted her eyes in deep thought. "Five or six, I think... I used to see mum making lists for everything we bought."

"Everything?"

"Yeah… She made these huge lists when we went shopping for clothes, or to buy the stuff she needed to customise any of her costumes or our clothes to make them cooler. It looked fun."

“Has anyone told you you’re adorable?”

"You do every time I do something you find funny or weird."

The couple shared a knowing smile.

"May I?" Hamid pointed to the bundles of notes.

“Sure.”

He then unfolded the paper and cleared his throat. "2003 list — Great year to start, by the way — Staedtler colour pastel pencils, Strathmore 400 Series watercolor pad, Powerpuff Girls dolls, Totally Spies board game... You were very thorough about this."

"Of course. I couldn’t learn how to use watercolour paint or markers if Santa got me the wrong kind of paper."

"Fair point." Hamid grinned and looked at another list. "Ohuhu Fine Line drawing pen, Barbie Fairytopia, Polaroid camera, Pucca backpack... It seems like you got a lot of those gifts," he commented, glancing at the box.

"Good kids usually do," she answered with a complacent grin.

"Oh, look who's being a smug..." He teased, nudging her playfully. "I doubt Santa would see it as a quality good kids must have."

"First of all, smugness won't make anyone end up on Santa's naughty list. And secondly, Santa isn't real, so—"

"What?!" Hamid mockingly gasped. "Santa isn't real?!"

She pursed her lips, trying to hide a smile.

"How could you let me believe in this nice old man that comes to our house all these years to bring gifts? Why do you insist on celebrating Christmas then?" He gesticulated profusely as he spoke, pretending to be offended.

The lady folded her arms. "Are you done?"

"Oh, the betrayal! The lies! You..." He made a dramatic pause, pointing his index finger to her, then placing a hand on his chest. "You lied to me, aşkım."

She slapped his arm playfully. "Get over yourself and go eat your chicken before Maya does."

Hamid then turned to the table, where their cat calmly approached his plate.

"Maya, no!"

He grabbed the cat as she yowled in protest.

"Allah, Allah… What's with you and spicy food, huh?"

Whilst Hamid and Maya seemed to be in a heated argument, Daphne giggled, petted her pug (who ate his food oblivious to everything else), and took a place on the table to make herself a plate.

Once the cat was back on the floor Hamid spoke again. "You didn't tell me how you found out Santa wasn't real."

"The flat we lived in when I was ten had central heating and no chimney. I got curious about how Santa would get in."

"Of course you did." He grinned. "What did Mrs. Wang say?"

"Mum said he'd just get in through the window. So I decided to hide behind the sofa and wait for Santa to open the window for him. Later that night, I saw mum placing the gifts under the tree and putting the cookies we left for Santa earlier back in the cookie jar."

"Aw... How upset were you?"

"On a scale of one to ten? I'd say nine."

"Yikes!"

"Once mum explained the history of Saint Nicholas, I was okay with it. And it started to make sense why she never let me ask for a unicorn."

Hamid cackled. "Well, it also explains why you were always on the nice list."

"Hey!" She frowned. "I deserved to be on the nice list. I was a good girl back then! I still am!"

"Is that so?" A corner of his mouth lifted. "Do you mind if I put your level of niceness to a test?"

"How do you plan to do that?"

"Oh, that's easy." Hamid reached for his phone on the side table, typed something then showed the screen to her.

"How to be on Santa's nice list?"

"There's no better way to figure out than using Santa's parameters of niceness."

"Very well." She squared her shoulders and lifted up her chin. "I'm positively sure I'll crush it, but if you insist."

Hamid arched an eyebrow and chuckled before turning his attention back to the list on the phone. "Number one: leave milk and cookies for Santa."

"That's the first one?"

"And you're already failing it since you don't do it anymore."

"Are you kidding me?!"

"I don't make the rules." He raised his hands in defence. "It's a tradition of your culture. And you're not starting off so well, aşkım."

She folded her arms. "That's just one item. Go on."

"Number two: give your friends and family presents — yes; number three: do your homework — always; number four: be a good friend — absolutely, you're the best."

"Aw... thank you!"

"Of course." He winked and continued. "number five: do good deeds for your neighbours and community — Hm..." He scratched his stubble pretending to be in deep thought.

"What? I am a good neighbor!"

"Do you think our building manager would agree with that?"

August 2022

"You've got to be kidding me..." Daphne's nostrils flared as she approached the refreshments tables.

"My dove, settle down..." Hamid wrapped an arm around her as he tried to reason. "Nothing is going to happen. It doesn't matter if the majority of the residents and tenants don't have or want pets. Our building was already pet friendly before Mrs. Evigan moved in and it's illegal to forbid any of us to have pets."

"Then what's the purpose of this poll anyway?"

"She wants to reduce the noise in the building at night to a minimum and wants to know how many residents have pets," the building concierge, Mr. Carson, said whilst he poured himself some coffee.

"But all pets here are neutered and most of them are well behaved," Briar mentioned.

"That little spawn of Satan she gave birth to is much louder and causes way more trouble in here than all the pets of the building combined." Daphne fumed.

Whilst the concierge, Briar and a few neighbors close to them chuckled, Hamid gave his partner a look.

"It's true and you know it," Daphne affirmed.

"I think it's because of Mrs. Tilbury's dog howling," their next neighbor Kyle mentioned.

"But it's so unfair. Mrs. Tilbury passed away a week ago. The poor dog missed his owner." Briar frowned.

"The dog is not even here anymore. Her relatives took him away when they came by to gather her things this morning," Mr. Carson, added between small sips of coffee. "Oh, this is good stuff! Is it Turkish coffee?"

"Yes, it is." Hamid smiled proudly.

"Oh, I've been craving a good dose of caffeine all afternoon! Thank you, Mr. Osmanoğlu." The man took another sip in delight.

"It's my pleasure, Mr. Carson. Please take one cup to yourself before you go back to the hall." Hamid grabbed the carafe to offer more coffee to the concierge.

"Okay, so what now?" Briar asked.

"Once we inform if and how many pets we have, we can come up with a counter offer to find solutions for the noise," Kyle, the neighbor, suggested.

"Our apartment has soundproof windows and thick drapes ever since Hamid moved in, but I don't know if everyone can afford it," Daphne acknowledged.

"Yeah, those aren't cheap. But it was very clever of the two of you to do it."

"I know my cat. If we didn't take care of it right away, lockdown would've been more chaotic than it already was," Hamid explained.

"How about calling a vet and pet trainer to help? Maybe a professional to give us tips on how to reduce stressful situations for pets, how to keep them distracted..." Briar suggested.

"That's a great idea, Briar! Maybe Luke can help or recommend someone who can," Daphne mentioned.

"Or we just buy duct tape and give it to Stacy. Maybe she'll take the hint and manage to control that little brat," Briar joked.

As the group chuckled, the new building manager approached the table.

"The ninth floor residents are always laughing, huh... I feel inclined to join you almost every time," The tall and ash blond haired woman scrutinized each resident and stood next to Hamid.

"You don't say... How sweet of you!" Kyle replied, pretending to be pleasantly surprised.

"Of course! You are all so cheerful. It's a true pleasure to have residents like you," The building manager said, grinning widely at Hamid.

"We know," Briar answered, then mumbled to herself. "You almost make me hate my bff's partner for being nice even to people who don't deserve it..."

"What?" Stacy asked.

"Oh, it's nothing! Just an inside joke." Hamid promptly answered.

"About what?" The building manager asked.

"Cat memes!" Kyle declared.

"Turkish cat memes," Daphne added.

"Yeah, we have a lot of those." Hamid commented.

"I'm not very fond of cats. Or dogs. Or any animals for that matter..." The woman said.

"Yeah, you've made that pretty clear, Stacy," Daphne commented, giving the woman a subtle glare.

"My dove, please. We can handle this situation without confrontation." Hamid murmured.

"Maybe you can..." Daphne folded her arms.

"I don't hate all animals, of course..." Stacy continued to babble.

"We know." Kyle answered, forcing a smile.

"Your son, for example..." Briar mumbled, making the neighbor almost spit out his coffee.

"My Trevor got some gold fishes from his grandmother last week..."

"Oh, those poor fishes..." Daphne muttered.

"I know... It's like the fish killer girl from Finding Nemo..." Briar added.

"...They're very soothing, you know." Stacy affirmed as she tried to touch Hamid's shoulder.

"So I've heard. But I prefer pets with more capability to interact with me," Hamid commented, moving away from the woman to pour himself coffee.

"Oh, you brought Turkish coffee! How nice!" Stacy marvelled.

"I did. Your tea, my love." Hamid offered his partner a cup of tea.

"I see you two have different tastes... That's too bad..." Stacy said with a suggestive smile.

"That's called having your own personality," Daphne taunted, sipping her tea.

As Briar and Kyle suppressed giggles, Hamid wrapped an arm around his partner and smiled.

"I believe what Daph meant to say is that after over three years of relationship and almost two years living together, we learned to compromise."

Daphne gave him a side eye, but didn't argue.

"Words to live by," Kyle agreed.

"I see..." The building manager scrutinized the couple for a second then continued. "Anyway, before we continue the resident council meeting, can you pour some of your delicious Turkish coffee?"

"We're almost out of coffee, but I can—" Before he could answer, his phone began to buzz. "Sorry. I have to take this. My dove?" He gestured to the nearly empty carafe.

"You know what? Nevermind..." Stacy waved dismissively with her hand.

"Oh, don't worry. Daphne can make a killer cup of coffee." Hamid smiled at his partner and walked away to answer the call.

And to everyone's surprise, the lady didn't oppose it. "I'll be happy to make you a cup right now."

"But I—"

"Go back to your seat, Stacy." She gently pushed the building manager away from the table. "I'll take a cup to you."

As the woman walked towards the desk in front of the conference room, Daphne waved to her and turned back to the table to prepare more coffee.

Briar eyed her friend suspiciously. "Daph?"

"Yes?"

"Are you really making that tyrant coffee?"

After a few extra spoons of coffee, Daphne grabbed salt and pepper shakers and added them to the mug. "I sure am."

First week of December 2022

"She had it coming," Daphne said before taking a bite of the chicken.

"Aşkım..."

"She wanted to ban pets from our building!"

"She has no power to do that and you know it."

"She was hitting on you!"

"Was she?" He feigned shock.

The lady pursed her lips.

"She's not my type."

"Because she's blond, petty, and hates pets?"

"Yes. And more importantly, I only have eyes for British ladies from Edgewater." Hamid said, reaching for her hand across the table.

"Is that so?"

"They must be the daughter of the earl, of course."

"That's a very specific type of woman, Mr. Osmanoğlu." Daphne lifted a glass of water to her lips, hiding a smile.

"The heart wants what the heart wants," he replied, plastering his best smile. "Anyway..." Hamid then looked back at his phone. "I guess being a good neighbour is one more requirement you failed to accomplish."

"Whatever... Two items isn't a big deal. Proceed with the list."

"Okay." He continued to read the list. "Number six: donate to charity."

"Done."

"True. Number seven: be on your best behaviour all year."

"Done."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. What are you talking about?"

His grin widened.

January, 2022

Daphne winced as she walked out of the bedroom to join Hamid for lunch. Following her gynecologist orders, the lady decided to seek healthier choices to handle PMS. Yet, given how sore her legs were, she questioned herself how this could possibly be the healthier option.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" She cried out. "Ugh! Why even sitting down is so goddamn hard?"

Taking pity on his partner, Hamid helped Daphne sit on one of the kitchen stools. "It'll get better with time, aşkım. Have you stretched a bit today?"

"I did. It still hurts! And I'm not putting ice packs on my legs. It's too fucking cold today."

He arched an eyebrow in amusement.

"What?" She narrowed her eyes.

"Nothing. How about an Advil and a glass of water before lunch?"

"Don't we have anything stronger?"

"Ibuprofen will do just fine until the pharmacy sends the OTC cream I asked for. Here you go." Calmly, he handed her a packet of the medication and a glass of water.

"Thank you."

Once she took the meds, Hamid placed the dishes on the kitchen island and whistled as he put down two bowls with cat and dog food for their pets.

Her mouth watered at the sight of grilled salmon with mustard yogurt sauce, brown rice with cauliflower and lentils salad.

"This looks nice! I'm a bit surprised you added cauliflower though."

"I can make an effort sometimes..." He gave his shoulders as he sat across from her.

"You don't have to eat it if you don't want to."

"I can survive a meal with stinky vegetables. Let's dig in."

Whilst the couple chatted between bites and small interactions with their pets, Daphne hummed savouring pieces of salmon with the sauce.

"Hamidciğim, this sauce is marvelous!"

"Really? Do you see yourself having another meal like this again?"

"Maybe..."

"Maybe?" He grinned.

"Hold your horses, mate. I'm not becoming a gym rat like you. I barely survived jogging with Annabelle."

"Healthy meals are always a good start to a healthier lifestyle. By the way, I have to ask... Why jogging?"

"You know I'm not a sports enthusiast. What else could I do? And jogging seemed easy enough... Ann said 'just put on some gym shoes, training clothes and bring a water bottle'."

"Just because something looks easy it doesn't mean it actually is."

She made a face.

"Aşkım, perhaps you could've chosen something you like to do. It'll be easier to stick to it in the long run."

"Like what?"

"You love dancing. Why didn't you take a dance class? Plus, there are other exercises you might like to try like pilates, yoga..."

Pilates? Yoga? What was he insinuating with that?

The lady narrowed her eyes. "Why? Because it's what girls usually do?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You think I'm weak, don't you?"

"What?" His brows furrowed in confusion.

"You do. That's why you're telling me to start yoga and pilates instead of jogging."

"Daphne, it was just a suggestion. Why would you assume I think you're weak?"

"Because you just did!" She snapped.

"I don't know how you came to that conclusion, but if you keep assuming the worst from me, I'm not sure if I want to. Now, if you excuse me..."

Hamid stood up carrying his plate, threw the remaining food in the trashcan and disappeared into the hallway.

"Where are you going?!" She yelled.

Already wearing a black leather jacket and holding his car keys, Hamid returned to the kitchen.

"Out."

"Out?"

"I have plans for later."

Daphne closed her eyes as she inhaled sharply. It was infuriating how often he simply stood up and left in the middle of an argument, even though he wasn't the kind of person who walked out of a fight just like that. Did he do that to piss her off?

"Have a good meal, Daphne."

Once the front door was slammed shut, Daphne screamed in frustration, knowing no one could hear her. Yet, in response, Maya hissed at her whilst Drake barked in clear distress.

"Shut up!" She yelled once more, making her dog hide in a small corner in the kitchen and the cat hiss once more.

The lady frowned. She didn't yell at her pets. Why was she so explosive all of a sudden?

As she finally understood the reason behind her outburst, Daphne closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Now certainly was a good time to seek some more effective ways to handle her mood swings.

...

Daphne's fingers pressed against the clay as she tried to shape the lump with her hands. Sculpture was a form of art the viscountess rarely tried. Molding things wasn't her forte. It was too messy to her liking. But while looking for ways of managing her mood swings, she recalled the day one of her professors mentioned the benefits of sculpting clay to reduce stress and anxiety and decided to give it a shot. After what happened earlier, she was willing to try anything.

Just then, the faint sound of the door closing followed by Drake's barks reached her ears. She furrowed her brows and glanced at the clock on the wall. Hamid was supposed to be watching a football game with his friends. He wouldn't be back anytime soon. Maybe she was mistaken. But once she heard his voice talking to their pets, she knew. It wasn't just her imagination.

Joy and guilt grew within her as she stood quiet, waiting for any sound he'd make as he walked around the flat. Was he mad at her? No, anger wasn't an emotion he nurtured for long. But he could be upset. Or disappointed. She honestly didn't know which one was worse.

As the sound of the TV reached her ears, she went to the bathroom to wash her hands. Perhaps it wasn't the right time to walk out of the studio. But she couldn't wait. She needed to see him.

In the lounge, Hamid sat on the sofa, grumbling in Turkish at the players on the TV and taking a few swings of beer.

Hiding in a corner, Daphne gazed at him for a few seconds, chewing on a nail. She should say something. Preferably an apology. But what if she messed it up again? What if he didn't want to talk? He was watching the game after all. Ah, the guilt...

"I thought you said you'd stop chewing on your nails."

Her eyes went round in surprise. Wasn't he supposed to be watching TV?

"Are you lurking in the corner?"

"No! I— Um..." She looked down at her hands. "I thought you were going to watch the game with Yusuf, Bart and Vee."

"Annabelle had food poisoning, so Vee stayed with her."

"Oh... What about Yusuf and Bart?"

"Bart said I was too cranky today and Yusuf told me to go try to fix whatever was bothering me."

"Are you going to fix it?"

"I have to. I won't be able to sleep at night not knowing if you feel cramps and might need tea, a hot bag or a hug tonight. And I know you won't ask for help if we're still fighting."

The lady fiddled with the hem of her blouse as her eyes began to water. It was so annoying to realise how well he knew her.

"Can you come here and help me fix it?"

Daphne slowly walked to the sofa and took a seat beside him.

"I'm sorry for lashing out at you. I misunderstood what you said for something silly Ann used to say about Felicity Holloway back in A-Level years."

"What did she say?"

"Yoga and pilates are for people who can't handle a real sport."

"I don't know if I agree with that... Have you seen Alisha's and Sevim's videos doing yoga on Pictagram?"

"But I'm not going to be upside down in the first week of classes."

"Just like you're not going to be running one kilometre by the end of this week if you choose to jog again. You'll start slow with everything."

"Except dancing..."

"Well, isn't it a coincidence that dancing was the first exercise I suggested?" He gave a knowing look.

"Ugh, fine... I'm sorry I didn't listen to you. I'll go with you to the gym and ask the receptionist about the dance classes."

"You're forgiven, my dove."

As he leaned in for a kiss, Hamid pulled back and brushed a thumb on her chin. "Is it mud mask day again?"

"No... Why?"

"You have clay on your face."

"Oh!" The lady stood up and rushed to the nearest bathroom. "I was trying to make a clay sculpture. Touching clay keeps the person grounded and reduces mood swings. It's very soothing," she shouted whilst cleaning her chin and left cheek.

"Really? How's it going?"

"I couldn't do more than a weird ball and a lot of mess in the studio. But it's better than jogging."

He chortled. "Would you do it again?"

"Not without a few sculpting classes."

"No problem then." Hamid reached for his mobile on the coffee table and began to search for sculpture art classes.

...

Late May, 2022

"Yes. Absolutely! Yes, I can!"

Daphne's whole face lit up as the art curator who interviewed her for the internship spot in a famous art gallery in Ithaca gave her a few instructions before finishing the call. Getting any job at any art gallery was something the lady dreamed about for years. But working for one of her favourite contemporary artists was so much more than she could've asked for.

"Thank you! See you on Monday!"

Once she hung up the phone, Hamid abruptly stopped the car and turned to her.

"Monday? What happens on Monday?"

"Not much..." She answered, pretending to be calm. "Just my first day as a hostess/tour guide at State Of The Art Gallery."

"I knew it!" Hamid immediately unbuckled his seat belt and cupped Daphne's face with both hands to give her a tender kiss. "Congratulations, aşkım! I told you that spot belonged to you."

"Thank you," she answered with a timid smile.

"We have to celebrate it. How about lunch at that Italian restaurant you like?"

"But you just said we should eat something lighter because of all the junk food we had last night."

"Aşkım, you just got your first job at the most prestigious art gallery in Ithaca. We need pasta, good cheese and the best vintage we can find to celebrate!"

Daphne giggled in response. Over the years, Hamid became the first person she shared dreams and goals with. His enthusiasm and support for her accomplishments, no matter how big or small they were, were infectious.

As he started the car again and drove off, using a few voice commands, he continued. "You have to tell Lord Vincent about it. He'll be so proud of you."

Daphne smiled shyly. "I'll call him when we get home."

"Call the guys too. We have to go out for drinks later."

"I don't know... Maybe they already have plans."

"That they will cancel as soon as you tell them," he insisted. "Aşkım, this is your first job. The one that will help start your career! We have to celebrate now and the day you get your first payment. And you know the rules. All drinks will be on you that day."

"What?!" She glanced at her partner in horror. "No! Have you seen how much Ann, Vee and Bartie drink? I can't spend my entire first salary just on booze and snacks! Plus Edmund might come too! He's the worst!"

He chuckled. "It's fine. I can afford our monthly bills by myself. Besides, I doubt Lord Vincent will cut off your allowance until you get a higher paying job."

Daphne didn't say a word as she shifted uneasily in her seat. She knew the money wouldn't be an issue for them. She simply couldn't help wondering if she would manage to keep that job.

As soon as the couple arrived at the restaurant and took their seats, the lady grew quieter. She wanted to be happy. She got an amazing job opportunity. She'd be working with something she loves just a year before graduation. However...

"Daphne?"

"Huh?"

Whilst the waiter expectantly waited for her to drink some of the wine and give her opinion, Daphne noticed Hamid's gaze, studying her face intently. Why was it so easy for him to know something wasn't right? This was one of those moments when she wished Hamid wasn't so perceptive.

Once the waiter poured more wine and left, Hamid placed his glass on the table and gauged her expression one more time before speaking. "For someone who just achieved their first professional accomplishment, you don't seem happy."

"I am." She lifted her glass of Chardonnay to her lips, so glad they were big enough to hide most of her face. "I just think it's a bit soon to celebrate."

"Soon?! The job is yours! You start in three days and it's Friday. It's the perfect time!"

"Yeah, but what if I don't go that well there? What if they fire me in less than a month?"

His brows furrowed in confusion. "Why would they do that?"

Color drained from her face as she held her glass mid air. How could her tongue slip like that? She barely started drinking!

"Aşkım, is something wrong?"

As Hamid reached for her hand, his brows furrowed in worry. Perhaps, it was time to tell him the truth. If things turned as bad as she expected, he would find out anyway.

"I did something..."

"Okay..."

"Something that can compromise my job at SOTA Gallery."

So many emotions seemed to cloud Hamid's handsome features it was hard to tell what he was thinking.

"Isn't there a way to undo or fix what you did?"

"Maybe... But it's more complicated than I thought it would be."

Hamid moved closer to the table, looking more confused than before, lowering his voice. "Daphne, what did you do?"

"I..." She looked down at her hands. It was too embarrassing to admit it. "I fluffed up my resume and lied to the art curator who interviewed me."

"And...?"

"And?!" Daphne stared back at him in horror. "There's no 'and'! Things are bad enough as it is."

The diplomat let out a chuckle in relief. "Aşkım, tons of people fluff up their resumes and lie a little during the interview. I told you I only got the job at UK Parliament because they needed someone who could speak Korean fluently and I lied saying I could."

"But you learned enough to keep up a conversation with the ambassador of South Korea."

"No, I didn't. I was lucky Mr. Park has a good sense of humor and found my knowledge on K-dramas amusing," he corrected. "But back to you, what did you lie about?"

"Oil painting."

Hamid pressed his lips together, but the corners of his mouth were still lifted up.

"You're laughing."

"No," he said, doing his best to look serious.

"You are! I can see it. You're laughing at me." Daphne scowled.

"I can't help it... It brings back some interesting memories..." He smirked.

"Will you ever stop mocking me because of that night?" She grumbled and then forced a smile as the waiter returned with their entrees.

"My dove, it's okay," he said, pausing to take a bit of his entree. "You thought the studio had the proper ventilation for you to try oil painting. It was an honest mistake. Did I expect to find you dancing to Jefferson Airplane half naked in the lounge and saying you finally understood Sharknado? No. But it was—"

"Absolutely ridiculous? Embarrassing?" Something ludicrous that only an intoxicated person would do?"

"Perhaps for you. I'm still bummed my phone battery died before I recorded your speech about vampires being real," he teased.

"Hamid!" She hissed.

"I'd just record the audio. Your theory was too good to be forgotten."

Daphne heaved a tired sigh. She might lose the biggest opportunity of her career so far and her partner was mocking her for the night she accidentally got high on oil painting and Port wine.

"Why did you lie about that anyway? You have enough artistic skills and experience to boast about for days."

"The art curator, Ms. Giordano, has specialized studies in oil painting. I thought about impressing her with what I know about it."

"And you succeeded. You may not be an expert, but it isn't a subject you're completely illiterate about. You can keep up appearances whilst you learn more about it."

"But I told her I have a painting and she said she'd like to see it."

"That's not a lie. You have a painting."

"That thing I painted that night is rubbish! I shouldn't have let you keep it."

"But The Attack of Vampire Sirens is one of my favourite paintings nowadays! Annabelle liked it too. And it gives you something to show to one of your bosses."

"I'm not showing that thing to her!"

"You have to," he warned. "You have no other work in oil painting. And you have to keep up the lie. You shall never admit you lied just to get the job. Never!"

"I know! Everyone says Laura Giordano is mean, but she was kinda nice to me during the interview. If I say I lied, she might never look in the face again..." Daphne whined.

"Well, let's hope she didn't mean what she said or you'll have to paint again."

"No! Oil painting is evil!"

"It's summer... You can paint outdoors. Preferably in the balcony. Or anywhere windy. With no alcoholic beverages near you..." He suggested as his lips curled upwards again.

Her shoulders slumped.

"Aşkım, there's nothing to worry about. It was just a little lie you said so your mean boss would like you. If she's really that mean, she won't even remember what she said."

"Really?"

"No. But now you can finally share The Attack of Vampire Sirens on your social media." Hamid wiggled his brows.

"Ugh..." Daphne hid her eyes with one hand in frustration.

...

September, 2022

Daphne rubbed a few drops of oil between her hands and smoothened the length of her hair before pulling it into a ponytail. As she checked herself in the mirror, her nose twisted in annoyance as the dark tresses covered her sports bra. Has her hair ever been that long before?

She looked down at the long locks and moved her face from one side to another. Perhaps the issue wasn't the length. During her teenhood, she had time to change haircut and colours whenever she saw fit. Lately, however, she barely had enough time to braid her hair on her way to work or uni.

Staring at herself in the mirror again, her brows furrowed in concentration.

Do I really want to make any changes now?

She then walked back to her vanity dresser and grabbed her phone. Maybe Pinterest could help.

Among the many pictures on the search, a selfie in particular caught her attention. Sitting on a salon chair, Felicity Holloway smiled as the most popular hairstylist of Edgewater pressed his face next to hers. One could almost mistake them for being close friends. But Daphne knew better than that.

Initially recommended by Lady Dominique, Théo Cellier was a pleasant surprise to the viscountess when she moved to Edgewater. With his impressive skills on cutting and colouring hair, his knowledge about the latest trends in fashion and art and sharp sense of humor, Daphne grew fond of Mr. Cellier for a while.

Yet, their friendship didn't last long. Unfortunately, Mr. Cellier's beauty spa was popular among gentry folk for more reasons other than just a nice hair change due to his terrible habit of gossiping. Even this most innocent conversation a client of his had over the phone could be spread across the country within minutes. And much to her disappointment, the Foredales often were a common topic of the hairstylist's and his clients' malicious comments.

As she accidentally tapped on the picture instead of scrolling past it, it redirected to the hairstylist's Pictagram profile. Felicity's selfie was new, but with relatively low engagement, given the number of followers in the hairstylist's profile and the complexity of work done. She did look pretty with a cut that framed her face and a few light ash locks that brought more light to her sandy blond hair.

She snickered as her thumbs typed a message to DM Briar. But before she could hit send, she felt something gently falling over her feet. As she looked down, her dog whined, staring at her with pleading eyes whilst his walking harness and leash rested on her feet.

The lady smacked her forehead with one hand as she remembered why she was getting ready to leave in the first place.

"I'm sorry, sweetie! I got a little sidetracked here..."

She scratched his fur and put the harness on Drake.

"I'll put on a shirt and training shoes and we'll be out in a minute, okay?"

As the lady walked into the closet to finish getting dressed, the dog barked in excitement, she didn't mind to look. Drake was one of those extra friendly dogs who got easily excited about almost anything. He certainly found something in the room to play with. As long as he wasn't trying to eat her moisturizer again, it'd be fine.

"Ready to go? Oh hey, girl!" She smiled at Maya coming out from under the bed to rub her body against Daphne's legs. "I thought you'd sleep in the balcony all morning. You don't mind staying alone for a few minutes, right? Hamid will be back from the gym soon."

Whilst Maya stretched herself, one of her paws touched the screen of Daphne's phone and the cat laid on top of the device, the lady scanned the room, searching for it.

"Odd... I left it right here..." She said, approaching her vanity dresser.

Before she could search a bit more, the dog began to whine again.

"Oh well... I guess we'll enjoy the scenery together today, Drake," she said, bending down to scratch the cat's fur and picking up the leash to take the dog for a walk. A few minutes without her phone wouldn't do her any harm, right?

...

About one hour later

Daphne closed the door behind her to help Drake out the harness. Usually, the dog arrived home a bit calmer. But whenever he sensed the fragrance of Hamid's cologne in the air, it was harder to get him to settle down.

"I know what you want, but wait a minute! I can't take it off if you don't stay quiet."

"Stop torturing my dog and just let him come to me already," Hamid joked as he approached the entryway.

The dog began to shake his entire body, waggling his tail in joy.

"Great. Now it'll be impossible to get him out of the harness."

"I'll take it off when he's calmer." The diplomat then crouched down and beamed at the dog. "Gel, oğlum! Gel!²"

Daphne pursed her lips, but set Drake free to rush to his other pet parent.

"How was the walk?"

"Good. The weather was nice, Drake is getting stronger. We walked for twenty minutes today."

"Excellent! Well done, oğlum!" He then gazed at her with a curious look whilst still petting the dog. "Is everything okay, aşkım?"

"Yeah."

"You didn't bump into any unpleasant acquaintances today, did you?"

"Huh?"

"You know... People you dislike or who can easily make your blood boil such as your boss, Theresa Sutton... Felicity Holloway..."

Daphne made a face. "Good God, no! Mrs. Giordano is still in Italy being cruel in Italian to other Italians. Theresa and Felicity haven't returned to classes yet... Why?"

"Bartie and Briar just sent me a Pictagram post that made me wonder what could've happened so early in the morning for you to make such a nasty comment about anyone online."

"I did what?"

"Well, you are half British and you do have your grandmother's passive-aggressive sense of humor..." He rambled on, scratching his stubble in thought.

"Passive-aggressive?! But you always say I'm adorable!"

"Of course, you are, my dove." Hamid then stood up, pulled her into a hug and kissed her temple before he mumbled. "Most of the time..."

"Excuse me?!" She pulled away with a scowl. "Hamid, what on earth are you talking about?"

The diplomat fished his phone out of his trousers pocket to show it to Daphne.

Her eyes went round and jaw fell slack in horror. Among the comments on Felicity's selfie on Mr. Cellier's profile, the top comment was Daphne's.

"Too bad no amount of bleach and purple shampoo can make her soul as bright and shiny as her hair..."

"But I didn't post that!" She blurted.

"Are you sure? I've seen you say worse to her face..."

"I always try to be polite, even if she doesn’t deserve it. She is the one who starts with the insults. I wrote that to DM Briar!"

"Did you mistake the DM button for the enter a comment button again?"

"No! I didn't send it! I don't even know where my phone is!"

Hamid arched an eyebrow. "You don't know?"

"It's somewhere in the bedroom... I didn't have time to check properly. Drake started whining again, I didn't want to frustrate him now that he has more energy to walk."

"I'm not sure what happened, but we have to find your phone and a way out of this scandal because you're trending."

"What?!"

"Well, not you... #bleachgate is trending on Twitter NY and UK."

"Bleach gate?"

"Her classmates began to tweet about it, then our friends joined in telling how Felicity bullies anyone she might see as beneath her and the story spread. Gossip blogs here and UK tabloids are delighted with all the freely given content."

Daphne quickly read the tweets in horror. "Oh my god..."

"I gotta say that's quite an accomplishment to be trending right now. It's already noon in the UK and there's a Premier League match being aired right now."

Her shoulders slumped. "Hamidciğim, I don't want to be trending on anything. It was supposed to be just another dumb joke shared in a private chat with a friend."

"It's alright. We can fix this. Go look for your phone. I'll reach out to my contacts at The Sun and The Daily Mirror to see what can be done about this."

"Thank you."

After a quick search in the master bedroom, Daphne found the phone on the floor, under a very sleepy and grumpy Maya, who was clearly displeased to be woken up. Now in possession of her phone again, the lady read the news, tweets mentioning her and the tag and DMs from several people from her secondary school years, Felicity's classmates at Cornell, whilst Hamid worked from his phone and laptop.

"Oh... This is bad..." She commented, whilst scrolling through the tag search.

"It sure is..." Hamid added as he sat back on the sofa. "Three former members of Lochdale staff came forward to sue Felicity for racial profiling and harassment.

Daphne's head snapped to the side in shock. "Seriously?!"

"What? Didn't you expect the girl who bullied you and all of our closest friends for years to not be racist or not harass her parents' staff?" He gave her a knowing look.

"That's not what I meant... I just didn't know that accidentally commenting on Pictagram instead of DMing Briar could've caused this."

"I guess no one did..."

"What do I do now?"

"Not much. Mr. Cellier deleted the picture, but screen captures of the selfie and your comment are everywhere. You can come forward in your own profile and say your phone was hacked and apologise or you can leave it be?"

"Lying doesn't seem like a good idea..."

"I agree. Anyone who digs a bit on these British gossip blogs will figure out you two have a history and might see the 'hacked account' or the apology as a lie."

"But can I really leave it be?"

"Yes. You have no obligation to comment any further about it and your opinion about Felicity is the least of her problems right now. She can try to sue you for defamation, of course. But given that you won two lawsuits against her not so long ago and with all these new allegations against her, her lawyers will most likely advise her not to go through with it."

"Okay. I'm not going to say a word about it."

"Good choice." He nodded. "You owe me a kiss, by the way."

Daphne moved closer and wrapped her arms around his neck as she kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you again for doing this."

"No problem, aşkım."

Sighing in relief, she reached for her tea and continued to scroll through social media.

"You do know that not saying anything further also means not hitting likes on memes and other shitposts about it, don't you?"

"I'm not doing anything..."

"You just hit like on Annabelle's tweet of Bugs Bunny wishing you all a pleasant evening meme about the bleach gate."

"But—"

He stared at her and shook his head.

"Ugh... Fine..." she grumbled.

First week of December 2022

"That's so unfair! I was PMSing! I can't control my hormones," Daphne whined.

"Yes, you can. You have improved significantly since you chose to have healthier habits. But okay. Let's say Santa could excuse you for snapping at your loving life partner for no reason. Yelling at our fur babies though?" He tutted.

"But I apologised!" The lady pouted.

He chuckled.

"Okay, but you can't blame me for lying about my oil painting skills. You said it yourself it wasn't all a lie."

"You actually told your boss your favourite technique was impasto."

"But it's the truth!"

"You hadn't tried impasto until then. You just said it because you knew Mrs. Giordano is a Van Gogh fan. And don't even get me started on the bleach gate," he pointed out.

"It was an accident!"

"Posting as a comment was an accident. But what you said...."

"The woman made my life hell for years! What's a little dissing compared to what she did to me?" She insisted.

"I know. And I'm not judging you." He raised his hands in defence.

"Thank you."

"However..."

"Ugh..." She rolled her eyes.

"Aşkım, you are Christian. There are several Bible verses about loving and doing good for your enemies. I don't think a Christian entity known for doing good deeds to everybody would overlook that."

She folded her arms.

"You'll have to face that fact you'd be on the naughty list this year."

"All right!" Daphne scowled. "I don't mind if I only get coal for Christmas."

"Don't you?" Hamid raised an eyebrow.

"I'm an artist. I'd see it as an encouragement to make more coal sketches," she replied, doing her best not to look annoyed. It was just a silly test anyway. Besides, if she didn't want to be mocked for the rest of the month, admitting he was right would be for the best.

But before the subject died down, a sly grin played on his lips as he mumbled. "Hmm... Interesting..."

Something told her he wouldn't let go so easily.

County of Edgewater, December 25th 2022

Laughter echoed along Edgewater manor as The Foredales and closest friends ambled toward the lounge. Christmas mornings usually were the best part of the day for Daphne. Though they considered it an event, the family now was more inclined to skip formalities. Aside from everyone helping with the vast and delightful breakfast, they exchanged gifts and chatted until it was time to prepare for luncheon. She was more than happy to go back home and partake in this new family tradition.

As Lord Vincent, Lady Dominique, the Dalys and Veronica's mother chatted by the fire, the young ones gathered around the Christmas tree to exchange gifts.

"Darling, this is beautiful!" Bartholomew gushed over the glass bird house.

"Now the birds will always keep you company when I'm not around," Yusuf said, smiling fondly at his partner.

A unison "aww..." erupted among the women whilst Edmund looked somewhat confused.

"How will that attract birds?" Edmund mumbled in confusion.

"Put bird food and water on the little space in there and hang the house on a window or balcony for the birds to come," Daphne explained.

"Oh... that's cool." Edmund nodded.

"And really cute," Veronica added.

"And so romantic..." Briar swooned at the smiles Yusuf and Bart shared.

"I guess Bart got all his gifts. You can choose who's next now, my friend," Hamid suggested, sharing a secretive look with Bartholomew.

"Hm..." Bartholomew looked around the group and declared. "I say it's Daph's turn now."

"I'm cool with that," Daphne said with a grin.

"In this case, I'll go first." Hamid then reached for a large box under the tree and handed it to his partner.

The lady beamed at the sight of the pretty gift box and carefully undid the ribbon tying it. But as soon as she removed a few paper tissues, Daphne pursed her lips.

"That doesn't look like a 'aw... thank you, love' face," Veronica commented.

"I agree," Yusuf nodded.

"What is it?" Briar then grabbed the gift and glanced at the couple in confusion. "You gave her coal?"

"Me? Noooo..." He shook his head, pretending not to know about it. "Krampus dropped by last night and left this gift for her."

"So I guess Krampus also left a note saying 'Welcome to the naughty list, Daphne!'," Annabelle added, showing off the note that was inside the box.

"I bet he meant every word," Hamid said with a mischievous smile whilst his partner glared daggers at him.

"Is it me or does it look like a sex joke?" Veronica asked.

"What?!" Edmund blurted in horror.

"I thought so too," Bartholomew joked.

"If there wasn't a note allegedly from Krampus, I swear it'd be a sex joke," Yusuf teased.

"Maybe this is some sort of fetish related to the holidays," Annabelle surmised.

"Oh, for the love of God..." Edmund grimaced in discomfort.

"I don't know. I've seen fetish related to Santa, string lights, gifts. But Krampus?" Briar made a face.

"Oh, girl... If I got a nickel for every weird fetish and turn-on I've heard about..." Veronica taunted.

"And coming from these two, you never know..." Bart continued.

"Are my ears bleeding? I can feel them bleeding..." Edmund whinged as he shifted uneasily in his seat whilst the others (minus Daphne) laughed.

"All right, that's enough! Can we move on now?" Daphne cut off, still struggling to hide her annoyance.

"I know that face. You're in big trouble, Osmanoğlu," Annabelle whispered to Hamid, who simply chuckled.

"I think that's kind of the point." Yusuf tittered.

"Okay, let's move along. Here you go, Daph," Bartholomew then handed the lady a medium size box.

"Thank you, Bartie." The lady smiled in gratitude. But as she opened her gift, Daphne arched an eyebrow at her friend. "Bart?"

Bartholomew shared a glance with Hamid then pressed his lips together to stifle a laugh as his eyes met Daphne's.

"Ugh..." The lady rolled her eyes.

"What?" Briar asked as she peaked at the gift. "I don't get it... You like getting art supplies."

"This is different and both of them know why."

Bartholomew and Hamid chuckled.

The others then glanced at the gift box and found an art supplies kit for charcoal drawings.

"Well, at least now we know it's not a sex joke," Yusuf commented.

"Are you sure?" Veronica teased.

"Hey!" Yusuf whined.

The others doubled over.

"Can somebody go next? I don't feel like getting coal anymore," Daphne grumbled.

"My dove, you're not getting coal from everyone."

"Do you expect to believe you didn't tell everybody?"

"I didn't know." Annabelle raised her hands in defence.

"Me neither," Briar answered. "I would've joined the prank though..."

"Me too. You should've told us, mate..." Edmund joked.

"Sorry, eniştem³... Next time, I'll give you two a call," Hamid said with a playful grin.

"Excuse me?!" Daphne snapped.

"I'm joking... You're not mad at me, are you?" Hamid asked.

"Of course I am! You're mocking me, you got Bartie on board for this and I didn't get a single real gift until now."

"Hey, mine is a real gift!" Bartholomew protested.

"You're on thin ice, Bart. Very thin ice." Daphne hissed.

Hamid then wrapped his arms around Daphne, who didn't hug him back, but didn't pull away either.

"My dove, you are getting real gifts. Great ones, as far as I know. But when you said you wouldn't mind getting coal, I couldn't resist it. It's too much fun to tease you."

The others laughed.

"Will you forgive, aşkım?" Hamid murmured, kissing Daphne's shoulder to make his request more compelling.

"I don't know..." She said, pretending not to be affected by him. "Do I get a real gift from you?"

"Yes."

"How good is it?"

"It's very shiny, expensive, it has a colourless gemstone usually weighed in carats."

"Fine..." Daphne replied, doing her best not to smile. "I'll think about it..."

As Hamid kissed Daphne's cheek several times, Bartholomew prompted. "You know, diamonds chemical composition are quite similar to coal, so if you think about it—"

"Your thin ice is melting, Bart!" Daphne glared.

Laughter erupted in the group before they continued to share Christmas gifts.

______

¹ Vay, vay, vay: Turkish expression of surprise 

² "Gel, oğlum! Gel!" : "Come to me, son!"

³ Eniştem: my brother-in-law

#choices fanfic #desire and decorum #hamid x mc #desire & decorum modern day au #lorirwritesfanfic #lorircreates #ocs ask

[choicesjanuarychallenge]

Week 2 Masterlist

Fanfiction

A Little Delay - @jerzwriter (Open Heart)

A Modern Romance - @liaromancewriter (Open Heart) (Light NSFW / Mature)

A Perfect Date - @jerzwriter (Open Heart)

A Winter's Walk- @storyofmychoices (Open Heart)

Chasing The Sundown - @chocopeppermintcake (Open Heart)

Just A Kiss - @jerzwriter (Wake The Dead)

Pick Your Poison - @lilyoffandoms (Guinevere)

Polo! - @karahalloway (The Royal Romance series) (NSFW / Mature)

Regret - @lilyoffandoms (Guinevere)

Second Chances: Ch 23 - Racing Hearts - @missameliep (Desire and Decorum)

Stating The Obvious - @liaromancewriter (Open Heart)

What Happened in Vegas: An Interlude - @jerzwriter (Open Heart)

_

Fanart

A Winter's Walk- @storyofmychoices (Open Heart)

Eli's Family - @jerzwriter (Wake The Dead)

_

Headcanons

Their First New Year's - Kind Of - @jerzwriter (Open Heart)

Happy New Year: 2020-2023 - @jerzwriter (Open Heart)

_

Moodboards & Edits

A Day In The Life - @potionsprefect (Open Heart)

A Day To Relax - @choicesfanaf (Rules of Engagement)

Double The Fun - @liaromancewriter (Open Heart)

Happy 31st Birthday to Meera - @headoverheelsforramsey (Open Heart)

_

Text Fics

Ain't Nothing Like The Real Thing - @jerzwriter (Open Heart) (Light NSFW / Mature)

Build-a-Bear: After Dark - @storyofmychoices (Open Heart) (Light NSFW / Mature)

Heartbreakers - @liaromancewriter (Open Heart)

New And Improved - @jerzwriter (Open Heart) (Light NSFW / Mature)

_

Thank you to everyone for participating this week.

Check out all the January prompts.

Remember, you don’t have to participate daily or in order. Feel free to use the prompts as and when you get inspired. Check out the guidelines.

All submissions will be reblogged as received and included in a weekly masterlist. Tumblr tags can be unreliable at times. If your submission isn't reblogged within 24 hours, contact @liaromancewriter

#choicesjanuary2023 #choices monthly challenge #playchoices #choices fanfics #choices fanfiction #choices fanart #choices stories you play #open heart #the royal romance #guinevere choices #rules of engagement #wake the dead #desire and decorum #trr choices #choices open heart #wake the dead choices

[kinda-iconic]

I’m 3333 words in and…

This is…definitely an angsty one 😭💔

#choices: stories you play #playchoices #choices d&d #desire and decorum #choices fanfic #ernest sinclaire

[georgiesgirl1223]

I'm back!!! I'v been gone for 4 years but I want to get back into writing. I'm going to slowly be posting my choices fics that I have previously written and I hope to finish up some projects from 4 years ago and start some new writing.

#choices fandom #choices #choices fanfiction #choices fic writers creations #the royal romance #trr #choices trr #trr fanfic #desire and decorum #bloodbound

[samiwritesstories]

Here is the first part of a Desire and Decorum fan fiction I have written. Any advice or constructive criticism is welcome.

  https://docs.google.com/document/d/1VImuKIjmu_dVOWj6incbrxsnLU7-TP-dq0C7fisTOrQ/edit?usp=sharing 

#desire and decorum #choices stories we play #choices stories you play #choices fanfic

[choicesficwriterscreations]

It's that time of year again! Thank you to the creators who have shared their Top 5 creations of 2023 according to Tumblr note count. The Creator's Pick Top 5 will be posted this weekend! Links to all fics can be found below the break.

@aallotarenunelma ✒️

So This is Love (BOLAS) - Aerin Valleros x M!elf!MC

Distant Light (BOLAS) - Tyril Starfury x F!elf!MC

Indigo Night (ID) - Cassius Harlow x NB!MC, NB!OC

Répondez, s'il vous plaît! 3 (ILS/ID) - Various Pairings

Sophomore Secret (ILITW) - Dan Pierce x F!MC, M!OC

@angelasscribbles ✒️

A Fervid Fixation (TRR) Ⓜ️ - Drake Walker x MC

In Your Room (TRR) Ⓜ️- Drake Walker x Leo Rys

The Dark Kingdom (TRR) Ⓜ️ - Various Pairings

Dark Elf (TRR) Ⓜ️- Various Pairings

Heir Apparent (TRR) Ⓜ️- Drake Walker x MC, Liam Rys

@baldwinboy5ive 🎨

Blades Coffee Shop AU (BOLAS) - Aerin Valleros x MC

I Will Drag Him Back (BOLAS) - Tyril Starfury & Aerin Valleros

The Spray Bottle (BOLAS) - Imtura, Mal, Aerin

Aerin Instagram (BOLAS) - Aerin Valleros

The Prison Visit (BOLAS) - Aerin Valleros x MC

@cariantha ✒️

Accidental Valentine (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

If Only I Could (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Code Yellow (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

A Kiss on the Hand (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Daddy Distress (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

@inlocusmads ✒️

Intro To Negotiation Science (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

A Strange & Sudden Companionship (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

Cross Your Hearts & Set it Ablaze (COP) - Trystan Thorn x F!MC

Partner (Disambiguation) (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

New York, June 2014 (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

@jerzwriter ✒️

A Different Fate, Part 1 (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

What Happened in Vegas, Part 4 (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Abundance (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

The Perfect Gift (OH) - Tobias Carrick x F!MC

Take Me Out (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

@ladylamrian ✒️

Welcome to the World of Night (NB) - Nightbound MC

Bound by Fate (NB) - Nik Ryder x F!MC

A Meeting in Wyoming (NB) - Nik Ryder x F!MC

Wedding Proposal (NB) - Nik Ryder x F!MC

OC Headcanons (NB)

@liaromancewriter ✒️

Every Day (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Summer Romance (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Beautiful Stranger (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Sleeping Beauty (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Something to Talk About (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

@noesapphic ✒️

The Other Woman (D&D) - Roselyn Sinclaire, Ernest Sinclaire, Duke Richards

A Glimpse of Us (TRR/TRM) - Liam Rys & MC, Fabian Rys & MC

Barcelona | Prince Hamid (D&D) - Prince Hamid x MC

Worthy (TRR) Hana Lee x MC

The Cursed Heiress, Ch. 17 (D&D) - Mr. Sinclaire x F!OC

@peonierose ✒️

Losing Game - Part 1 (OH) - Bryce Lahela x F!OC

Nightbound AU vs. Hänsel & Gretel, Part 3 (NB) - OCs

Nightbound AU vs. Hänsel & Gretel, Part 2 (NB) - Nik Rider, F!MC, OCs

Once, Part 2 (TNA/OH) - Sam Dalton x F!MC

Hau’oli la Heleui (OH) - Bryce Lahela, F!OC, Keiki Lahela

@storyofmychoices ✒️

Go On, Feel It! (BOLAS) - Mal Volari x F!MC

Our Future Doctor (OH) - Bryce Lahela x F!OC

No Kissing! (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

Dance With Me (OH) - Bryce Lahela x F!MC

A Theif in the Gardens (BOLAS) - Mal Volari x F!MC

@tessa-liam ✒️

Memories (TRR) - Liam Rys x F!OC

The Sacrifice (TRR) - Liam Rys x F!OC

Regrets (TRR) - Liam Rys x F!OC

Old Habits Die Hard (TRR) - Liam Rys x F!OC

Turning the Page, Prologue (TRR) - Liam Rys x F!OC

@trappedinfanfiction ✒️

Brunette (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Crossroads (OH) Ⓜ️ - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

A New Neighbor (COP) - Trystan Thorne x F!MC

Midnight Talks (OH) - F!MC, Sienna Trinh

What's in a Name? (COP) - Trystan Thorne

@zealouscanonindeer ✒️

Together (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Company (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Locked In (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

20 Questions (OH) - Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Long Overdue (OH) Ⓜ️- Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

#choices fic writers creations #tumblr top 5 #playchoices #choices stories you play #blades of light and shadow #immortal desires #it lives anthology #the royal romance #open heart #crimes of passion #nightbound #desire and decorum #the nanny affair #choices fanfic #choices fanart #playchoices fanfic #playchoices fanart #long post

[princess-geek]

10 things I love in Choices Fandom

You must meet Elizabeth Foredale!

She's the MC\OC @missameliep created for 'Second Chances', her 'Desire & Decorum Modern AU'. Find more here.

#ChoicesFanworksDay #desire and decorum #desire and decorum fanfic #desire and decorum mc #prince hamid

[randomperson3000]

Someone, please, please, please write something where Bridgerton, Desire & Decorum, and Pride and Prejudice are all set in the same universe! I'm begging you! 😭

#bridgerton #pride and prejudice #pride & prejudice #desire and decorum #desire & decorum #julia quinn #netflix #jane austen #pixelberry #choices #books #book #fanfiction #fanfic #Iwontacceptitifmcandparsonsarenttogether #parsonsxmcforever

[missameliep]

Beatrice Foredale: colours and personality traits

Beatrice Foredale - FC: Jenna Coleman

Beatrice will become a woman of passions; Helen was sure of that. She could guess it by the intensity of emotions her daughter was already showing as a child. Helen just wished her daughter was luckier in love than she was because she won’t be there to comfort her, to kiss her head and stroke her hair whispering that the pain will pass, that her heart will heal, there will be other lovers and, then, one day, Mr. Right will come… he will make her blush, feel butterflies in her stomach, make time stop each time their gazes meet, take her breath away with each kiss. He could be a prince or a plumber, but they will love each other unconditionally and forevermore. 

Excerpt from Unspoken Desires - Prologue

Beatrice Foredale was created by the amazingly talented and generous @princess-geek, who I'm blessed to call my friend and is today's birthday girl! 🥳🎉

My dear, Débora, I wish you all the best in your birthday: a healthy and happy new year, love and wisdom, and that you never lack creativity and inspiration to write. May your dreams come true! I hope you enjoy this little token. It's quite small, but it's a way to say I'm thankful for your life.

#oc: beatrice foredale #unspoken desires #desire and decorum au #princess-geek #choices fanfic #happy birthday 🥳🎉

[asexual-hugger]

Allison McQueen takes another weekend with her two girlfriends, Annabelle and Briar, at their usual tea shop. While they wait at their special table in the corner for their drinks, Annabelle’s eyes wander around the shop as if looking for someone.

“What?” Briar takes notice and looks over her shoulder, trying to see what she’s looking at. “Are you expecting anyone?”

“No,” Annabelle answers. “I just like to people-watch.”

Briar scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Riiiiiiiight. People-watch.”

“Seriously!” Annabelle insists. She notices that Allison is looking at her as well. She sighs. “Okay, maybe it’s more than people-watching. I was seeing if that cute cop guy was in here.”

“Oh. My. Megagod!” Briar gushes. “You mean Allison’s boss????”

“Guys, I’m sitting right here,” Allison points out. “And I highly doubt my boss is going to be here today. He’s probably at his estate working on case reports.”

“Booooooo.” Annabelle pouts. “His loss.”

“You two are ridiculous,” Allison comments. “Every time we’ve gotten together, you’ve been nothing but chatty about him. It’s like you won’t shut up about anything else. Ever since we saw him in here several months ago, you’ve been on my case about every single detail of his personal life.”

“Hey; it’s not our fault he’s dashingly hot!” Briar persists. “Seriously, McQueen. Where did you snag him?”

“I told you: it was accidental,” Allison reminds her. “He rescued me from what would have been the worst date of my life. He found me.”

“And what, you just ‘magically’ started working for him?” Annabelle narrows her eyes. “Nothing works like that, Allison. Not even fate.”

“He said he was looking for an assistant,” Allison points out. “He couldn’t do all those cases on his own. He was getting stressed from the pressure of phone calls and emails from London’s elite social class looking to hire a private investigator for their rich-person matters. He’s the best and the brightest in this city. The first one everyone turns to if they need help. I was just in the right place at the right time, for him.”

Their drink order is called, and she goes up to get it, handing each of her friends their requested order. She sits down again and takes a long sip of her tea drink. Briar and Annabelle suddenly let out squeals.

“Eeeeeeee!”

“Allison!” 

“What?” Allison looks confused and surprised at the sudden shouts. Briar grabs her left hand and pulls it towards her.

“Ohmigod! You’re ENGAGED????” She stares at the ring on her friend’s finger. The sparkling blue Heart of the Ocean promise ring that Detective Ernest Sinclaire had given Allison as his eternal promise of his love and friendship.

“Oh. Yeah. I completely forgot I was wearing that.” Allison looks slightly flushed in the cheeks as she looks at each of her friends.

“McQueen! Why didn’t you tell us this??” Annabelle cries out. “When did this happen?? Who proposed???”

“Well, if you really want to know, it was a couple months ago,” Allison confesses. “Detective Sinclaire took me to this special spot in the woods where a large metal monolith was standing and gave me this ring. He got down on one knee and everything.”

“Oh. My. GOD! That ring is from DETECTIVE SINCLAIRE???” Briar practically shouts it out to the whole shop. “As in, your BOSS?? The cute hottie we’ve both been gushing and obsessing over??? He asked you to MARRY HIM and you didn’t TELL US???”

“Relax!” Allison insists, the flush in her cheeks darkening as she feels stares on her. “It’s not an engagement ring. It’s a promise ring. He made me a promise that he would always be there for me no matter what, always love me and consider me his dearest, closest friend. Come on; you think I’d get married to my BOSS of all people, let alone be in a romantic relationship with anyone? I’m not into all that mushy-mushy, lovey-dovey stuff. I don’t believe in it, and that’s what I told him. He made me the promise to tell me that I was the only girl he ever truly loved.”

“But...he got down on one knee...!” Briar squeaks the words. 

“Yes, he did,” Allison answers. “He wanted it to be magical, and with that monolith standing behind me and catching the sunlight, I’d like to say that it was a ‘promise of monolithic proportions.’“ She grins.

“I’m sorry, McQueen, but THAT is NOT a ring that someone gives a FRIEND,” Annabelle points out. “That is without a doubt an engagement ring. Seriously? He just made a ‘promise?’ To a ‘friend?’ Sure. Look at it. It’s literally got diamonds all over it, and it’s even shaped like Rose’s necklace from the ‘Titanic’ movie. That is not a gift for a simple, platonic relationship. Detective Sinclaire wants to freaking get in bed with you. He wants to freaking MARRY you!”

“Wait. It’s Titanic? Let me see it again!” Briar whips her head towards Allison again, and Allison shows her the ring. “Holy hell, McQueen! Annabelle’s right; that is SO not a ‘friend’ gift. With your fascination for the Titanic and his secret, hidden love for you, there is absolutely no WAY that someone looking for a platonic friendship would buy a ring distinctively shaped like the Heart of the Ocean for their close buddy. Sinclaire’s in love with you.”

“Okay, guys, can we just stop?” Allison begs. “You’ve been attracting the whole shop with your crazy fangirling. He only made it look like a marriage proposal because he knew how I felt about marriage. I’m never going to have an engagement ring on this finger, so why not have a promise ring instead?”

“Well, if you’re not planning on marrying him, then can I have him?” There’s a mischievous gleam in Annabelle’s eye. “I’m sure DOZENS of girls across London and beyond would LOVE to have a man like that at their side. He’s young, he’s smart, and he’s sexy hot as hell. I break out in a sweat even thinking of him. Wow!” She fans her face dramatically.

“Every girl may want him, but he only wants me,” Allison says. “As long as I have this ring on, I’m accepting his promise until the day I die. Since I don’t believe in actual marriage, neither does he. His heart lies with the girl who carries his promise.”

“How do you know?” Briar asks in wonder. “Did he tell you that?”

“Yes,” Allison replies. “He told me after we came back to Ledford Park together. He said to think of it as him looking out for me, that he will always be there to protect me and that the heart represents his own. It’s like I’m carrying his heart for him, but it also symbolizes a reference to Titanic.”

Annabelle lets out a choked sob. “That is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” she gushes. “Sinclaire may be a badass cop, but he’s the sweetest, gentlest, cutest cop in all of Britain. I had good assumptions about him.” She looks at Allison through watery eyes. “You’d better hang on to that damn ring with everything you got, McQueen. Treasure it, keep it close, don’t you dare lose it. If Detective Sinclaire gave his whole heart to you, and only you, you’d better guard the hell out of it. He’s committed to you, for life. I hope you promised him that you’d watch over it with your entire soul. He may have made a deep, serious promise to you, but you also need to make one to him. It works both ways. You tell him that you are not letting that heart of his out of your sight, whether it’s from the ocean or not. You don’t know how many girls out there are just waiting to dangle all over that perfect athletic body.”

“Don’t worry,” Allison assures her, fingering at the ring. The diamonds on the border and the large blue one in the center catch the lights from the ceiling and glint. “I already did.”

#choices stories you play #desire and decorum #fanfic #detective story #tv show idea #pixelberry #choices game #play choices

[lorirwritesfanfic]

Worthy Of Love

Book: Desire & Decorum (modern day AU) Characters: Veronica Dantas (F!OC), Yusuf Konevi, Annabelle Parsons Pairing: Annabelle Parsons x F!OC (Veronica) Rating: M Word count: 1215 Reading time: ~5min Summary: A visit to a place Veronica has been avoiding for years will evoke memories and feelings she’d rather ignore. Based on the prompt: @choicespride Holiday Pride Event - Religious Trauma/Crisis

Author's note:

Veronica Dantas is a creation of this author. The others are owned by Pixelberry Studios;

@missameliep​‘s ask about the nice and naughty list got me thinking about Annabelle and Veronica too. This story isn’t as cute as I hoped it would be, but it still had to be written. Btw, Ann and Vee are totally on the nice list ❤

Warning: This piece contains subjects (mentions of homophobia and psychological trauma) may be disturbing for some people. Reader discretion is advised.

Veronica stopped before Saint Paul's Cathedral and shoved her hands into her coat pockets as she looked up at the Renaissant/Baroque church. Though some restorations were made on the building since the last time she had been here, to her it seemed like not a single thing had changed.

A chill coursed through her spine, but she chose to ignore it. "It's just cold weather," she told herself. Then, with quiet steps, she tentatively walked in, hoping the clacking of her boots didn't distract the children's choir rehearsal for Christmas services.

As she took a seat on the bench closest to the door, she looked at the altar to watch the rehearsal. A group of fifteen girls between six to eight years old giggled whilst the coach, a man that looked like a former member of a grunge band, made oddly funny gestures to explain how a specific part of the music should be sung.

By the piano, Annabelle calmly waited as the choir coach instructed the kids. With her shoulders back, hair tied on a low messy bun and hand placed over her legs, she looked absolutely stunning. Veronica loved that about her. Her posture, elegance, and gracefulness. Quite the opposite of herself.

At last, her eyes met her partner's and they shared a timid smile from afar. But before anyone noticed, both of them looked away and the rehearsal continued.

Mixed feelings rose within Veronica's chest as the choir began to sing Child Of The Poor. Memories of herself as a kid, also part of the choir in this same church flooded her thoughts. Raised in a Christian home, she always attended church services, Sunday school, and choir rehearsals. It was fun for a while.

When she grew older, however, things changed. People stared, shook their heads in disapproval. Good Christian girls can't do this, good Christian girls can't say that. But it got worse she moved to live next to her father's family. She did her best to do everything she was told. But it was hard to fit in when everyone told her she couldn't be herself and seek "professional help", otherwise the Lord would never approve of her. But wasn't that the same God described in the bible as Love itself? Why did others insist she wouldn't be worthy of love?

She looked down at her hands as her eyes welled up. Of all the places they could've chosen to meet up before joining their friends for drinks, did she really have to meet Annabelle at St. Paul's? After so many years of avoiding religious-related things and places like the plague, she shouldn't have agreed to be here just because someone she loves dearly wants it.

Veronica quickly brushed away the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks. She was done with this bullshit years ago. She couldn't cry over this again.

"Is this seat taken?" A calm and deep voice she knew so well caught her attention.

"Yusuf?!"

"Hi," Yusuf answered with a broad smile and sat next to his friend.

"Hi... I thought you and Bart would meet everyone in the pub."

"That was the plan. When you said you'd meet Annabelle here, Hamid and I were a bit concerned.

"Was it that obvious it wouldn't end well?"

"No. But abi¹ and I know how much this could affect you. How are you feeling?"

"I don't know... Overwhelmed, I guess..." Averting her gaze, a rueful smile adorned her lips. "But hey, I just proved Dame Margot Aldridge wrong. I didn't burst into flames when I walked in here."

Yusuf shook his head, but couldn't suppress a chuckle.

As their smiles faded, both of them looked at the altar. The children beamed singing Oh, Come All Ye Faithful whilst Annabelle played the song with ease.

"I see why Annabelle always offers to play. These kids are quite talented," Yusuf commented.

"Yeah... Somehow, she only has fond memories of her time in church groups."

They continued to watch the rehearsal for a while before Veronica spoke up again.

"You didn't have the best experience during your time in halaqas either and you're still very Muslim. What's your secret?"

"Years of therapy."

She chuckled.

"I think it finally hit me when I learned Arab and could read the Quran myself. It doesn't say much about homosexuality, except for the Sodom and Gomorrah surahs. Which is also the only moment mentioned in the Bible. The hatred we endured and the bullying we suffered aren't encouraged by the Prophet or Jesus Christ. They tell us the very opposite. Allah created diversity. He wanted all of us to be different and still love each other."

"I wonder how bigots ever finish secondary school given how they often lack basic skills like reading and understanding a book," she grumbled.

"A very good question," he nodded in agreement. "But what really matters to us is knowing we are worthy of Allah's love. And we don't need other people's approval to do so."

A tear rolled down her cheek. Before she could wipe it, Yusuf moved closer and enveloped his friend in a warm embrace.

"You really came a long way from the days you weren't even sure if you'd ever come out," Veronica said with a small smile.

"I wouldn't have crossed to that long path if it wasn't for a psychologist/friend of mine who said I should try psychotherapy to handle all the baggage I couldn't carry on my own," he commented, nudging her with an elbow.

She pursed her lips but nodded. "Okay, okay... I got the message. I'll talk to my therapist about it in the next session."

"That's the spirit!"

As the choir ended the last Christmas carol, the small crowd watching the rehearsal applauded the girls. Veronica and Yusuf followed suit. Her eyes and Annabelle's met again.

"It'll be a good step for you, especially now that you two are planning the wedding ceremony," Yusuf commented.

"What if I don't heal fast enough to agree with this blessing thing she wants so much?"

"The important thing is that you'll finally talk about it with someone other than Hamid and me, V. Annabelle is a thoughtful person and she loves you. She will understand if you need more time."

Whilst the people began to leave the cathedral, Annabelle sauntered over to them.

"Hey! I didn't know you'd be here," Annabelle said, greeting Yusuf with a hug.

"I was driving nearby and remembered you two would be here. You made such a compelling speech about the children's choir, I had to see it for myself," Yusuf explained with a smile.

"Aren't they amazing?" Annabelle enthused.

"They are. Christmas services will be beautiful," Yusuf agreed.

"Did you like it too, darling?" Annabelle turned to her fiancee.

"Yeah..."

Veronica exchanged glances with her friend, who gave her an encouraging nod and a smile. She then moved closer to her partner.

"In fact, there's something I want to talk to you about. Can we go for a walk before joining everyone in the pub?"

"Sure."

"I'll see you two later," Yusuf declared.

As they bid farewell to Yusuf, Veronica walked out of the cathedral alongside her fiancee. This might not be the pleasant talk she hoped to have whenever she thought about their upcoming wedding ceremony. But it certainly was a necessary one.

_________

¹ Abi: older brother. Often used to refer to a friend a bit older than the person speaking.

² Halaqas: religious gathering to study the Islam or the Quran

#choices fanfic #desire and decorum fanfic #yusuf konevi #annabelle parsons #miss parsons x f!oc #choices pride #holiday pride event #desire & decorum modern day au #lorirwritesfanfic #lorircreates #tw religious trauma