Hello! Welcome to the Choices February 2024 Monthly Challenge!
I'm @jerzwriter and I'm hosting this month's event.
Please see links below for event rules, prompts and other information.
I can't wait to see what you create!
This month, the challenge is all about love - but it's not what you think! In contemporary media, love is almost always equated with romantic love, and while I'm a huge fan of romantic love, I also know there is so much more to life than that.
The love we share with our friends, families, acquaintances, and the greater global community, and especially the love we have for ourselves, matter. So, I'm falling back on my Greek heritage and focusing on the seven types of love.
I'm not assigning "Days" to the prompts. You can use any prompt on any day, and any type of work can be submitted: fics of any length, art, headcanons, edits, poetry, moodboards, playlists, you name it. As long as it centers on Pixelberry Choices stories or characters, you can send it in!
Please see the links above for more information, and I can't wait to see what you create!
Thank you to everyone who made this event a big success despite having Tumblr issues the entire month of the event! We still managed to have a masterlist so big it has to be broken in two! That shows how committed this fandom is, and I thank you for it!
As we move forward, let's keep all these types of love in our heart, that's how we make the world a better place! Don't forget to check out the March Choices Challenge!
hide me in thy wounds
bloodbound | T | 2.1k words | gaius augustine/main character
first chapter in a two-chapter story. written for @choicesfebruary2024 / agape: your character's relationship with a greater being.
[read on ao3]
chapter i: sanctify me
Late in the first month of a year that was well into his third millennium alive, Gaius Augustine stepped into the Musea Sanguis for the first time in decades.
He hadn’t returned to the underground museum since he’d left the Onyx Sarcophagus for good. Back then, Gaius was hellbent on taking back his kingdom, enacting revenge on his traitorous court, and finally ruling over all life on the planet. It was a good few weeks before he spent a few more as a tree and then the few days after that getting the very foundations his life was built on burned to the ground.
Needless to say, the few decades after that were spent outside of New York, the place he once called home.
“Can I help you, sir?”
Gaius turned his head and was met by a short, plump young man with brown skin and a mop of black hair. From his scent Gaius could tell that the man was a vampire. He gave Gaius a curious look, as if trying to place where he had seen Gaius before.
“I’m visiting,” was Gaius’ response. “I assume you’re the new keeper of the library?”
The man’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I’ve been the keeper of the library for the past five years now, sir,” he said. “Are you a vampire? I’ll have to check for your brand.”
Gaius raised an eyebrow. In all his little adventures in the past decades, he hardly expected people to recognize him. But in New York? By the keeper of the Musea Sanguis? That was odd, if not entirely showing that the younger vampire was unfit for his position.
“The last time I was here was decades ago. The librarian was a different man,” said Gaius. “And no, no brand.”
“No brand?” the keeper asked, a bit of surprise in his voice. “Do you know your maker? It’s protocol to—”
“No brand,” interrupted Gaius, more firmly this time. “No brand, and I don’t need it, and my Maker thought I didn’t either.”
–
Gaius left the young librarian to his tasks and walked into the library proper. He ignored the librarian’s protests, and behind him Gaius could hear the younger vampire scramble across his desk.
The Musea Sanguis looked considerably different compared to when Gaius last saw it. Numerous artifacts were no longer on display in the museum, no doubt transferred to a more public setting after vampires were revealed to the world. Attila the Hun’s sword was no longer on display, and neither was the blade that was used to execute Marie Antoinette. On the other hand, there were new additions that even Gaius wasn’t familiar with. New tomes, cups, paintings, and other priceless items were now on display. Gaius examined these with a passing interest.
He wasn’t at the Musea for them.
He turned past another aisle of bookshelves. Even with the renovations and new additions, Gaius knew the Musea like the back of his hand. And if he was correct, the display he was looking for should still be where it was last left.
True to his hunch, it was still where he last left it. The Onyx Sarcophagus. His Onyx Sarcophagus.
The damned thing was now bound by red line ropes and had an additional display on the side describing it. The short description, of course, just had to include a sentence or two about his century trapped in the box.
“Feeling nostalgic?”
Gaius flinched with surprise. He knew that coming to New York meant a higher possibility of running into them, but…
“Magdalene. Good evening,” said Gaius with a composed voice. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“That’s my line, since the Musea is under my authority now and you’re the one visiting. You gave poor Ben a fright and he ended up calling me in a rush,” said Magdalene. She continued in a high-pitched tone: “‘Miss Magdalene, there’s an unbranded vampire at the library! He’s tall and looks scary!’”
Gaius, despite himself, gave an amused huff. “My apologies, then,” said Gaius. He finally turned to face Magdalene. She was dressed in a long-sleeved, knee-length blue dress. Her long black hair was loose and her fringe sat just on top of her eyebrows. “I’ve had no need for a brand for the longest time on account of… her. And I promise, I’m only visiting.”
“No new evil schemes?”
“None that I can dream of.”
Magdalene shrugged, then gave him a small smile. If his heart lurched just the slightest bit at that, that was no one’s business. “Alright then, Augustine,” she said, walking up next to him. “I hope you weren’t planning on ruining my display, though. That would be an evil scheme.”
“Well, I thought the library was still under Raines, but the circumstances seem to have changed…”
“Hey!”
“I only jest, Maria, don’t worry,” said Gaius. “I don’t plan on destroying this coffin anytime soon. I’m only visiting.”
Silence draped itself between the two of them, broken when Magdalene said more to herself than to him: “Maria.” She pursed her lips and absent-mindedly played with the small golden cross hanging on her neck. After a moment, she turned to him. “How long have you been in New York?”
“I arrived here yesterday evening. Just wanted to see the sights, maybe go a trip down memory lane…” answered Gaius. “I was planning on visiting just one more place before I leave New York. Unless you’ve decided my presence is so horrible that I have to evacuate now?”
“Your words, not mine. I’ve said no such thing. In fact, I may… say otherwise, even,” said Magdalene. After a beat, she said what was probably his biggest surprise of the decade: “I’ll go with you.”
“What?”
“I’ll go with you,” repeated Magdalene. “To wherever it is you’re heading to. Who knows? I might find out something new about New York. You’re older than dirt, and I think it’ll be interesting.”
Gaius swallowed, almost at a loss for words. He breathed out, then said: “I’ll… I’ll be visiting the temple.”
The look of surprise on Magdalene’s face rivaled his. She averted her eyes, then turned back to him. “I see,” was her reply. “You’re not planning on restarting First Vampire-ism or whatever in New York, are you?”
Gaius let out a bleak laugh. “No evil schemes like that just yet.”
–
Gaius pushed open the ornate doors of the Temple of the First. The temple was a shell of its former self, even more so than it was years ago. Weeds and plants broke through the stone foundations as the earth slowly reclaimed the abandoned temple. What was likely years’ worth of dust and blood covered the floor. As Gaius’ eyes adjusted to the almost absolute darkness, he could make out the cracks in the beams. Old craters in the walls, evidence of battles past, remained untouched.
Magdalene followed behind him as he walked. “I only ever come here once a year, on Jax’s death anniversary,” said Magdalene. “It feels… strange to be here.”
“It is indeed,” said Gaius. With a conjured flame in his palm, Gaius lit the archaic torches on the sides of the room. The room was bathed in a dim but warm glow.
“So…” started Magdalene. “Any particular reason you wanted to come here, specifically? I wouldn’t have expected you to come here, of all places, with what you said about…”
Magdalene trailed off and instead motioned to the front of the temple, where behind the altar and the decimated throne was a large stone statue embedded onto the wall.
Goddess.
The word rang in Gaius’ head on instinct, and with it a feeling of loathing and shame. He sighed, and after a moment, said: “Ever since you let me live, I’ve felt… aimless. Less so than I felt on the boat all those years ago, but still aimless,” confessed Gaius. “Even when Xenocrates imprisoned her and left me, I wasn’t alone. I had her will to guide me. I don’t… have that anymore.”
“It was terrible, and what she did was terrible, but for the longest time it was all I knew.” Gaius sighed. “And it makes me miss her.”
Magdalene’s eyebrows rose, but the revelation didn’t seem to surprise her as much as Gaius expected. “You do?”
“I do. She violated me, took over my life, and I did terrible things in her name. Things that make me feel disgusting,” said Gaius. “But it was still me, and also her. I don’t know where she ended and where I started. It was broken from the moment Iola was taken and I know it but some part of me… still won’t let it go.”
He slowly walked towards the altar; Magdalene again followed behind him. Centuries ago, he would have knelt by the altar, placed his lips on the table, and sent out a prayer to The First. Now, he merely stood and swiped a finger on the layer of dust that coated it.
He walked to the base of the statue and conjured a flame in his palm again. He motioned for Magdalene to come forward and she walked to him, a curious expression on her face. “You said you wanted to learn something new about New York. Here’s what I have for you,” said Gaius. He held the flame to light an inscription on the statue. “This is the first prayer The First taught me. I learned it at her knee, in a now dead language, when she first taught Xenocrates and I how to pray.”
Magdalene’s fingers traced over the ancient letters. “What does it say?” she asked.
Gaius paused for a moment, then in a language he hadn’t needed spoken in thousands of years, recited: “Blessed be the Goddess Phampira, and Her holy Tree of Life, from which eternity springs. Blessed be the Priestess Rheya, the First Vampire, Phampira made flesh, rightful Goddess and Queen of Mydeia,” He hesitated, the continued reading the prayer that once came to him as easy as breathing, “We pray for prosperity, for the life Her blood brings. We pray for Her hands, Her Prince and Her Soldier, Her will and Her blade, wholly Hers to work in Her name, forever and ever. Let it be so.”
When he finished reading, he half-expected the First herself to come back from the dead and smite him down for all his traitorous acts in the past years. But instead, nothing happened, and Gaius was met only with Magdalene’s stunned look.
“I… I understood every bit of that,” said Magdalene. “Rheya, she… do you really think she was a goddess?”
“I did. We all did. She had defied death itself and returned with what we viewed as Phampira’s blessing. Phampira made flesh,” said Gaius. “But I’ve had time. I’ve had time to think about it. I’ve had time to think about whether the gods are real and if they’ll save me, like I believed the First would. Now I’m starting to think that was just how we made sense of things. Maybe we — She — stumbled on the tree, something She, as a priestess, didn’t fully understand yet, and said it how She believed it to be.”
A moment of silence passed between them. Gaius said: “Then there’s the question of you, Magdalene.”
Magdalene let out a breath. “I know,” she said. “You saw what happened when I killed her. Her power… it became part of me. And for a few moments, I felt like I could do anything. There was so much rage and grief when Jax was lost and I felt like I could undo it all. I could make the world a better place. I could make it my world where no one had to suffer. I understood then, why people called her a goddess. But…”
Magdalene paused, pondering on her words. Finally, she said: “But it wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough,” she said. “And when I finally let Adrian, Kamilah, and Lily drag me down from that high, I knew that I was not God.”
Magdalene sighed and sank down to sit on the temple floor. She leaned her head back onto the wall and closed her eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, Gaius sat down next to her.
“I hardly visit this temple because it brings up questions I try not to think about. Was Rheya God? Am I God? At one point, maybe I could have been. Rheya’s blood is mine, and mine hers. Where does she start and where do I end? It horrifies me sometimes, the harm I can do.” Magdalene held onto the cross on her neck. She turned to face him, and Gaius was struck by the intensity in her brown eyes. “I don’t think Rheya was God. You won’t find God in me, either. I don’t even know if God exists anymore. Maybe God was gone all along.”
“Maria…”
“No, not Maria. My name is Magdalene,” she corrected. “I live and I love and my power has limits and that was how I knew I wasn’t God. I’m not alone, and neither are you.”
Each link will take you to a prompt list for one of the seven types of love. Please feel free to utilize the photos, words, or prompts on each one for your creation - but you are not limited to them! Any creation that fits the topic will be accepted in this month's challenge.
Eros (Passionate love) prompt list
Philia (Friend love) prompt list
Storge (Family love) prompt list
Agape (Altruistic love) prompt list
Ludus (Flirtatious love) prompt list
Pragma (Practical love) prompt list
Philautia (Self love) prompt list
and finally...
Love Stinks! prompt list
If you have any questions, please send an ask or DM @jerzwriter.
First one is, of course, a recreation of the photo from the original game, but with Evie's proper sprite. Second one is a new one that kicked me in the ass to make but it was so worth it.
Feb 2024 Challenge - Eros 7. The biological basis of eros is procreation for Ethan x Cassie
No Barriers
Premise: It’s finally time to expand their family, but will nerves take over?
Book: Open Heart (post series)
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine)
Rating/Category: Mature. Fluff.
Words: 1,205
A/N: I'm soooo sorry, Nonny. It took me forever to find the right story idea for this prompt, and then I struggled with the words all of last week and this. Hope you enjoy it!
Submission for @choicesfebruary2024 prompt "Eros - procreation". I'm using @choicesflashfics week 74, prompt 3
Waiting was the hardest part. As a doctor, she understood the complicated relationship between chemicals, hormones and the human reproductive system. But as a woman who was finally ready to start a family, the wait while her body reversed the effects of birth control had been torturous.
So, when Cassie Valentine saw the notification on her phone from the app tracking her cycle, she had to dig deep to stop herself from running across the hospital to her husband’s office and ordering him to strip, bend her over his desk and put a baby in her.
She chuckled as she imagined the exasperation on Ethan Ramsey’s face if she did that. He’d surely pinch the bridge of his nose and curse under his breath. The way he said, “For Christ’s sake,” or “For the love of god,” with a hint of Rhode Island sass, was forever endearing to her (much to his perplexation).
Just because she had self-control (barely) didn’t mean she couldn’t give him a heads-up that he was in for a wild ride tonight and every night for the next few days.
In the dimly lit bedroom overlooking the dark waters of Boston Harbor, the soft glow of flickering candles cast dancing shadows on the walls. The delicate scent of vanilla and lavender lent an air of warmth and intimacy, but it couldn’t hide the nerves.
Cassie hadn’t felt nervous like this during their first time together all those years ago. Back then, she’d been swept up in the romance and culmination of months of longing for this man. But tonight, despite her earlier bravado or the desire and anticipation coursing through her veins, she felt her skin tingle with trepidation.
Ethan stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. She tilted her head back, gazing into his eyes, her lips parting slightly. The warmth from the candles mirrored the heat rising between them, their breaths mingling in the air.
“Nervous?” he whispered, his lips hovering tantalizingly above hers.
“Terrified,” Cassie admitted, letting out a short laugh. “It’s funny because we’ve had sex more times than I can remember, but knowing this time it’s….”
She shrugged, leaving the rest unsaid.
Gently, he brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers trailing down her cheek to her neck, feeling the pulse quicken under his touch. Cassie leaned into him, her hands finding their way to his shoulders, then sliding up to tangle in his dark brown hair.
“You know,” Ethan began in a measured tone, “studies show it’s normal for couples to have nerves when trying to get pregnant. But it’s also counterproductive because stress hormones can act as mental and physical barriers. You need to get out of your head and let it come naturally.”
Annoyed, Cassie pushed herself out of his arms and faced him with her hands on her hips. “Now, you’re just killing the mood! This is not the time for Dr. Ramsey. I need Ethan, so be that.”
To her amusement, he rolled his eyes and tugged her back into his arms. “What do you want ‘Ethan’ to do?”
“Sweep me off my feet like the first time. Fuck me until all I can’t walk straight——”
Cassie yelped as Ethan literally swept her up into his arms and dumped her on their bed. He quickly followed her down, pressing her body into the soft mattress. His lips latched onto the side of her neck, nibbling and sucking the sensitive skin until throaty moans escaped her lips.
His mouth covered hers, coaxing her with his tongue to let him in, and he deepened the kiss when she parted her lips. Her legs fell to the sides, cradling his burgeoning erection between her thighs. Her hips rose off the bed, and she locked her ankles behind his thighs.
Ethan cuffed her wrists with one hand and held her arms above her head. Cassie squirmed as his other hand slowly traced a path through the valley between her breasts, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His fingers strummed her nipples, taking turns to make circular patterns across each tip before descending further down past her belly button.
Her eyes snapped open when he entered her with his middle finger, the heel of his palm pressing on the nub at the top of her sex.
“Uh.” She shook the fog of lust clouding her brain. “Shouldn’t you be putting another larger and more crucial part of you inside me for this particular occasion?”
Suddenly, Ethan stilled, his finger still thrust inside her, but it was no longer in motion.
“Seriously?” he stared at her incredulously, releasing her to brace himself on his elbows. “Now, who’s killing the mood?
“Never mind.” Cassie airily waved one hand. “Carry on. I’m ready.”
Ethan muttered something under his breath, but she couldn’t make out the words.
She held back a grin as he mentally shook it off and tried to focus on the task, but he was clearly struggling to remember where he’d left off.
Deciding to give him a hand, literally, Cassie cupped his balls in her palm while stroking his length with her other hand. She knew exactly how he liked to be handled and what would push him over the edge. It didn’t take long.
She found herself upended as he lifted her up and reversed their positions. Cassie straddled his thighs, and his erection nudged her core. His hands combed through her hair before his palms covered her breasts.
“You know what to do,” he ordered, blue eyes glittering with heat. “Ride.”
Cassie took him in, slowly, oh so slowly, until he growled in frustration. Gripping her ass, his fingers clenched tightly, leaving a mark on her skin. He pulled her wide and thrust deeper until he was embedded fully. He stilled then, giving her a moment to adjust.
The nerves faded as they moved together, lost in the moment, and forgot everything but what they were to each other. With every touch and every kiss, they surrendered to the passion that consumed them.
Later, Cassie lay sprawled on top of Ethan, her head on his shoulder and her palm curled above his heart. It was not quite racing but still fast after their lovemaking. She liked how his hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers absently threading through her blonde hair.
“It’s different,” she said softly.
“Huh?” Ethan asked, his voice gruff.
“Knowing there’s no birth control, chemical or otherwise. No barriers between us.”
She felt him nod in agreement and knew he felt it, too, from how his heart jumped at the thought.
Shadows from the flickering candles danced on the walls, and the tick-tock of the clock was loud in the silence. Feeling drowsy, Cassie’s eyes started to drift close when she heard him chuckle.
“I hate to say I told you so, but …” Ethan paused, waiting until she angled her head to gaze into his eyes. She caught the smirk on his lips and the teasing twinkle in his eyes and arched one brow askance.
“I was right earlier,” he continued matter-of-factly. “Sometimes, you just have to let go and let things come naturally.”
I like to think they'd find each other in every universe
Here's a little series of Cas x Gabe dates for Choices February 2024 @choicesfebruary2024 - street racing, gross ice-cream showdowns, spring picnics, and haunted houses! ...Yes, I am still unabashedly trying to manifest a win for poly!Gas Nation. Aw they're holding haaaaands 🥰💘 Close ups below!
Not the mentions FINALLY getting fixed on March 1st! 😂😂😂😂Honestly, I am cackling. lol
Honestly, thank you to everyone who contributed and made this a pretty successful event DESPITE issues with the blog the entire month of... February! 😂😂😂
I will continue to take submissions through midnight tomorrow, Sat., March 2nd. Thank you to all who participated! 😊
Summary: Emma's having a difficult day, but Trystan won't let her go through it alone.
A/N: For @lexicook74-blog. Sorry this is late!
It’s almost nine when Emma walks into her apartment, shoulders slumped and eyes burning with exhaustion.
It’s been a grueling day.
From a difficult client (why hire a professional if you’re going to micromanage them every step of the way?) to nearly being run over by a limo (at a red light!), everything that could go wrong today has.
Of course, she thinks as invisible claws dig deeper into her heart, none of that is the actual problem.
She considers pouring herself a glass of wine, then decides against it. She simply doesn’t have the energy for movement, so she drops down on the couch, still wearing her coat, and takes a deep breath. She can do this. She can get through what’s left of this day.
At the knock on the door, she lets her head fall into her hands and groans. “Not now. Go away. Please.”
Another knock.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
Grumbling, she gets up and yanks the door open. “Trystan? What are you doing here?”
“Aren’t I welcome? My goodness, the honeymoon phase has worn off blindingly fast.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Ah. You mean the fact that you sent me home early because you had reports to finish.”
“And told you I’d be late.”
“Yes, that. You’d be late, so I shouldn’t wait for you, and you’d see me tomorrow.”
“And yet here you are.”
“Because between the reports and the excuses, you forgot to mention why you were burying yourself in work in the first place.”
Emma sighs. “Trystan…”
He takes her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Why didn’t you tell me that today’s your father’s birthday?”
“Because I was trying not to think about it.”
He gives her a skeptical look. She throws up her hands. “And because I didn’t want to make it your problem. You’ve already had to deal with more than your share of unresolved grief this year. There’s no reason why you should take mine on, too.”
“May I?”
When he gestures to the door, she sighs and steps back. “What the hell. You’re already here.”
“Nobody has ever made me feel as welcome as you, my darling detective.”
She surprises herself by snickering. “Sorry.”
“Now.” He sits on the couch and tugs her down with him. “First of all, I love you. If you’re hurting, I want to be there for you --and with you. Second, when I was reliving the worst time of my life, you were there every step of the way. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
“Been convicted,” she reminds him helpfully. “And probably executed.”
“Yes, thank you for that. My point is that I’m here to stay. For the good and the bad. It’s not taking anything on, Emma. It’s just being here to help shoulder the load.”
Her eyes sting. “Trystan…”
“Won’t you let me? Even if I ask nicely?”
His tone is light, but the look in his eyes… this is important to him. Looking back, she thinks she understands. She wanted to be there for him too, all those weeks ago. Even so, she takes a deep breath. What she needs from him right now is difficult for her to vocalize. “Will you -- will you hold me?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
When she sits between his legs, her back fitted to his chest, he wraps his arms around her. “Do you want to tell me about him?”
“I thought I already had.”
“Just the gist of it. I don’t think you’ve ever talked about any specific memories.”
“Well… There’s the one of his 45th birthday. He was taking it hard.”
“Feeling old, was he?”
“And then some. He didn’t explicitly tell me, but he was making one too many jokes about the Grim Reaper breathing down his neck.”
“Oh yes, because the Reaper’s preferred demographic is people in their mid-forties.”
“I think he knew he was being silly, but he couldn’t help it. I caught him checking his hairline in the mirror.”
Trystan laughs at that. “Did he think it would magically recede in a day?”
“No mocking my late father on his birthday.”
“Sorry. How did this tragic event unfold?”
“I asked him if he wanted to watch Ghostbusters with me.” She shrugs. “It worked with me when I was sad.”
He presses a soft kiss to the side of her neck. “You’re incredibly sweet.”
She snorts. “Nobody’s ever accused me of that before.”
“Clearly everybody else just isn’t paying enough attention. I’m sure it helped him.”
“It did. Mostly because he started ranting about everything they were doing wrong.”
“You really do take after him.”
“Was there ever any doubt?”
“Not in the slightest. How did the day end?”
“Uncle Tommy came over with a bottle of Dad’s favorite whiskey, I baked my very first cake…”
“Back up. You bake?”
“Sometimes.”
“I really do love you.”
“Anyway. I think, by the time dinner came around, he was happy.”
“It sounds like a lovely birthday, all in all.”
“I think so.” Her voice breaks on the last word. “It was his last.”
He doesn’t say anything, just tightens his hold on her.
“I thought this year would be easier,” she admits. “I’m happy, I really am.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re going to stop missing him, Emma. It’s okay to grieve still.”
She huffs out a breath. “You sound like my therapist.”
“The one you saw in college?”
“Mmhmm. He had this mantra about letting myself feel all my feelings.” She shudders. “He’s a great guy, but I started breaking out in hives 48 hours before every session.”
“Yes, you’re not one to talk about your feelings.” He gives her a pointed look. “The fact that I had to all but ambush you to get you to talk this time is proof of that.”
“Hey, you made it here anyway.”
“Next time let’s skip the part where you avoid me and save time.”
“I think I can do that.”
She burrows into his chest. She can hear the steady thump of his heartbeat, feel the warmth of his body, the strength of his arms around her. And she wonders why on earth she thought she had to do this alone. “Trystan?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being here.”
He kisses her softly. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
Thank you so much to @stars-are-within-me for sending this prompt from this list for Jessica and Casey. I'm sorry it took me a while, but it sounds like the timing may have been good for you. I hope you enjoy it. Sending big hugs. 🩷🩷🩷
Book: Open Heart (Pre-Series)
Pairing: Casey MacTavish (F!MC) x Jessica Phillips (F!OC)
Words: 934
Rating: Teen
Summary: When the couple step out to celebrate Jessica's achievement, Casey gives her a gift that money could never buy.
A/N: @choicesfebruary2024 Eros/Philia
My Masterlist | Casey & Jess Masterlist | Open Heart Masterlist
The second floor laboratory of the Johson Pavillion rarely saw this type of energy. Sure, med school students were enthusiastic, but their energy could never rival that of the second graders in Jessica’s after-school program. The enrichment program began three months before; she built it from the ground up despite the naysayers who swore she never make it work. Now, not only was it working, but Thursday had become her favorite day of the week; more importantly, it was her student’s favorite day, too.
The very students who were currently creating utter chaos as they wrapped up their projects and gathered their belongings for dismissal. But Jess had it under control, standing in the center of it all with a goofy grin she couldn’t hide if she tried. She wasn’t sure if the lingering scent of chemicals, the buzz of the fluorescent lighting, or the excited chatter providing this natural high, but it felt too good to question. Perhaps this is what fulfillment felt like.
Across the room, Casey beamed with pride as she put away the last microscope, offering a little wink when she caught her girlfriend’s eye. With the last of the students headed out the door, she thought they’d finally get a moment alone when a tsunami of curls bedazzled with colorful barrettes bounced past her, and two arms wrapped her arms around Jessica’s waist in a tight embrace.
“Goodbye, Ms. Phillips!” the young girl grinned as her mother shuffled back into the lab, quickly taking her daughter by the hand.
“Now, Cassandra! You already said goodbye to Ms. Phillips! Don’t you think she might want to go home now?”
“It’s fine,” Jess grinned. “She did a great job today. I think you may have a future doctor here!”
“I’ve never seen her this excited about science,” the mom nodded. “Cassondra says the way you teach makes it fun.”
“It is,” Casey agreed. “I sure wish I had a teacher like Ms. Phillips when I was in school.”
“Well, your enthusiasm makes it easy.” After giving Cassandra a side hug and a high five, Jess returned to mindlessly wiping the tables, utterly oblivious to Casey’s adoring stare. Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink when their eyes finally met.
“What are you smiling at,” Jess blushed.
“Oh, that’s easy...” Casey said, crossing the room. “I’m smiling at you. Because I’m so proud of you!”
“Oh, stop,” Jess dismissed, but Casey wasn’t having it.
“I most certainly will not! This whole program was your idea; I know how hard you fought to see it through. Now, look at those kids! They look forward to coming here to learn more after a full day in school. Look, I was a nerd, but I’m not sure I would have even signed on for that... but you have them loving it and running back in to hug you before they leave.” She brushed a loose tendril away from Jess’s face, her eyes filled with adoration. “You are perfect.”
If Jess’s cheeks had turned pink before, they were nothing short of crimson now.
“Stop it,” she sputtered. “It’s... it’s nothing.”
With a scolding expression, Casey pulled her close. “I most certainly will not stop! You deserve all the accolades for pulling this off. Seriously, Jess...you earned this! Just pretend you have a penis for a moment.”
“Wait...What?” Jess laughed.
“I mean it... can you just imagine if you were one of the guys. Imagine Manny or Josh, or... god forbid Dirk... if any of them were in your shoes, they’d be running to the Dean’s to tell them how magnificent they are... how lucky the program is to have them... you need to start doing that. You have every right to be proud of your achievements. Don’t ever diminish them.”
Jess looked down between them, slowly raising her eyes to Casey’s again. “I... I think you’re right.”
“I know I’m right. Now, let me treat you to dinner to celebrate.”
“Casey... you don’t have to...”
“Uh-uh-uh.... PENIS! Pretend you have a penis!”
“All right,” Jess laughed heartily. “All right, you can take me out to celebrate, hon. What did you have in mind?”
“If we’re celebrating you, it’s your pick.”
“All right...sushi? I’ve been dying to go to Hayashi.”
“Sushi?” Casey teased. “I offer you a free meal of your choice... and you want raw fish and seaweed?”
“It’s delicious, you heathen!” Jess insisted. She playfully pushed Casey away to retrieve their coats from the closet. “I’ll get you to like it yet.”
“No, you won’t.”
Jess helped Casey into her coat, spinning her around to place a peck on her lips when she was done. “Oh, yes. I will!”
“Fine! Sushi it is.”
“Yey,” Jessica clapped. “And by the time we go home, you’ll like it, too!”
“I probably will,” Casey surrendered. “How do you always manage to persuade me with your charms?”
“I can’t tell you that!” Jess winked. “A girl’s gotta have some secrets. Besides, if I told you my secret was the scent of the lemon cleaning fluid and the buzz of the fluorescent lights getting you under my control, it wouldn’t sound terribly romantic, would it?”
Casey rolled her eyes with a grin. “No. And it doesn’t sound like that would work, either.”
She extended her hand, and their finger intertwined. They were about to step outside when Jess came to stop.
“Case... thank you... I.. I am proud of myself, and it means a lot to me that you’re proud of me, too.”
“Jess, I was proud of you before this... but now? I think you’re a rock star.”
Each link will take you to a prompt list for one of the seven types of love. Please feel free to utilize the photos, words, or prompts on each one for your creation - but you are not limited to them! Any creation that fits the topic will be accepted in this month's challenge.
Eros (Passionate love) prompt list
Philia (Friend love) prompt list
Storge (Family love) prompt list
Agape (Altruistic love) prompt list
Ludus (Flirtatious love) prompt list
Pragma (Practical love) prompt list
Philautia (Self love) prompt list
and finally...
Love Stinks! prompt list
If you have any questions, please send an ask or DM @jerzwriter.
Thank you and happy creating!
IMPORTANT NOTE!!!
I am not receiving tags for this blog, and I have little to no hope that Tumblr will fix this before the month ends... so please tag @jerzwriter or send me a link with the DM - thank you, and sorry for the inconvenience.
Pairing: Bryce Lahela x Olivia Hadley (F!OC)
Book: Open Heart
Word Count: >200
Rating/Warnings: general, warning: all the pterrible puns
A/N: I was too lazy to make this into a text edit, so just pretend!
Synopsis: Bryce discovers dinosaur chicken nugget pillows and they are a must! [📱]
Bryce: *sends picture of Dinosaur Chicken Nugget Pillows*
Olivia: Aww, they're dino-mite nuggets of perfection! 🦖❤️
Bryce: Aren't they rawrsome?🦕
Olivia: They're positively T-Rexcellent! 🦖
Bryce: Wouldn't they be the Tricera-Tops in our living room? 🦏 <<<pretend that's a triceratop
Olivia: They'd certainly make all our friends pre-historic-ally jealous! 🦕
Bryce: Pterrific! I'll order them now! 🛒
Bryce: & done 🛍️ 🎉
Olivia: I'm all fossil-abrating our love of Dino Nuggies! Let's just hope our little nugget doesn't try to eat them when she comes to share our love! 😂
Bryce: Haha, she might think they're a dino-delicious snack! Maybe we can teach her the proper way to appreciating these dino nuggies without taking a bite. 🦖👶💤 #dino-snore
Olivia: You're so adora-saurable!
Bryce: Roses are red and dinosaurs roar. You are the one I wholly adore 😘
Olivia: You make my heart saur! 💋
Bryce: You have me raptor round your finger!
Olivia: Rawr! 🦖
Olivia: That's I love you in dinosaur. 😉
Bryce: Rawr 😘
It's been a while since I've written some puns for these two! I hope you enjoyed it.
These will definitely be going in their pillow fort!
They have my heart. I love them so so much! Look at how cute they are here! I am so in love with who they're looking at each other. They're the absolute cutest!
This absolutely adorable art of my forever otp was by the lovely @liiyaan!
[All Thomas Hunt x Alex Spencer Masterlists] [Red Carpet Diaries]
Summary: There are many things that Sebastyan doesn't like about Detective Rose. Her loyalty to Trystan, for one thing. But the worst part, the most unforgivable offense, is the way she keeps drawing his eye.
Series masterlist
A/N: We've finally made it to the exciting stuff! There was supposed to be one more scene in this chapter, but it would've pushed it to 4000 words, so I'm ending it here. There are (tentatively) two more chapters to go.
His first reaction is disbelief. Twin stabs of pain and panic follow, flaring up simultaneously when the thin wire tightens around his neck, cutting into his skin. His hands fly to his throat instinctively, a desperate attempt to free himself. As he does, the tightening stops completely, but the wire remains taut.
“Let him go.”
At Emma’s voice, relief floods him. But he isn’t out of the woods yet, as Vasili’s next words make abundantly clear.
“Put the taser down first. Have you ever seen someone bleed to death, Emma? It can be very, very fast. Bas…” His brother’s voice shakes. “Bas will be dead in seconds. So put the taser down unless you want that to happen.”
Sebastyan wants to turn, meet her eyes, but he knows better. Any movement could spook Vasili, and result in the severing of his carotid artery. So he does what has never come naturally with anyone but his mother or the man currently holding a garrote around his throat: he trusts someone else to have the answers.
Vasili and Emma remain in a standoff, tensions rising with every moment. Then she speaks.
“Let him go and I’ll let you do the same.”
Vasili snorts. “Do you really think I’m that gullible?”
“No, I don’t. I will let you go. I might not be able to stop the Royal Guard from coming after you, but you’ll still get a head start. Think about it, Vasili. That’s as good a deal as you’re going to get.”
His brother turns sharply, dragging Sebastyan along. Emma points her taser at Vasili, but her eyes meet his for one charged second. She doesn’t have a clear shot, and all three of them know it.
She finally lowers the taser. “What’s it going to be? Will you take your one chance at escape, or will you kill Sebastyan and give up your shield?”
Vasili hesitates. Then he moves to the door, still dragging him along. Once he’s at the exit, he shoves Sebastyan to the floor and flees.
Emma is at his side in seconds. “You’re bleeding.”
As though in a trance, he touches his hand to his throat. It comes away stained red with blood. Now that he’s paying attention, he can feel the light but steady trickle streaming down his throat. “I suppose it could be worse.”
“You need a doctor.”
He tries to stand, but his legs buckle under him. “In a minute.”
“Sebastyan…”
“In a minute,” he repeats curtly. He can feel a wall of ice growing higher and thicker around his heart, blocking every fledgling emotion that tries to emerge.
Emma rips one of her sleeves off. “Here. Hold this to your throat. It’ll help stem the bleeding.”
Exhausted, he complies. After a moment, he succeeds at standing, but he finds himself growing dizzy. Maybe it’s the blood loss, or maybe it’s the fact that his brother… his brother just tried to kill him. Either way, for now, he feels nothing. He drops down on the velvet seat, recognizing the terrible numbness for what it is: shock. He welcomes it, desperately hoping he can cling to it until he’s alone. He can’t let himself feel this, not yet. Not in front of her.
“Emma? Bas?” Trystan’s voice calls from the corridor. He runs into the box, his expression growing grim when his eyes take Sebastyan in. “Bas, are you alright?”
“I’m alive. Sorry to disappoint.” He recognizes, vaguely, that he sounds like a put upon teenager. But he can’t bring himself to care.
A muscle twitches in Trystan’s cheek. “I happen to be really glad that you’re okay.”
Sebastyan looks away. His brother sighs and turns to Emma. “It was Vasili?”
“Yeah. I had to let him go, Trystan. It was the only way to save Sebastyan.”
“It’s fine. Lydea will catch him.” He rubs the back of his neck. “So what now?”
“Your brother needs a doctor, but he’s refusing to go to the hospital.”
“I’ll get one over here.” He begins to make his way to the door before pausing, one hand on the doorframe. “I really am glad you’re okay, Bas.”
Okay.
Right.
And then he’s left alone with Emma again.
She sits next to him and places a gentle hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry, Sebastyan.”
He refuses to look at her. He doesn’t want Emma here. He doesn’t want anyone around while his mind struggles to come to terms with the impossible
“Why? You finally found your murderer. Case closed. The queen will be pleased, and you proved beyond a shadow of a doubt your little boyfriend’s innocence.” He finally turns to face her. “What do you have to be sorry about?”
She doesn’t answer, only looks at him with an expression of compassion that rankles like nails on chalkboard.
“Get out.”
A pause. “You shouldn’t be alone right now. If nothing else, someone needs to be around to make sure you don’t bleed through that fabric.”
“Too bad, because alone is exactly what I want to be.”
“Bas…”
It’s the first time she’s called him by his nickname. Something about hearing it in her voice makes his throat dry.
“Get out,” he repeats, but his voice is lower. Softer. He’s all out of defenses. Grief and anger and need swirl within him, and for once, he lets her see all that goes on inside of him when she’s nearby.
Her eyes widen. Well, that answers one question. His feelings for her weren’t as obvious as he feared.
“Bas,” she repeats, her tone matching his.
He doesn’t let himself think. He cups her jaw with his free hand and brings his mouth to hers. All his carefully restrained desire explodes in a burst of longing at his first taste of her.
She is motionless long enough that Sebastyan almost pulls back. But then her mouth softens under his, lips parting to let him in. A sound, half groan, half moan, reverberates in his chest when their tongues meet; his hand dropping to her lower back and tugging her closer.
As far as he’s concerned, she can never be close enough.
He isn’t sure how much time has passed when Emma breaks the kiss. Sitting back, she looks at him with a softness in her eyes that nearly sends him searching for her again.
“I’ve wanted to do that since the day I met you,” he admits.
“Could’ve fooled me. What was it that you said then? That I should have stayed in New York because nobody wanted me here?”
He gives a helpless, and perhaps a tad hysterical, burst of laughter. “I take that back. In case it wasn’t clear.”
The sound of running feet makes them scramble away from each other. Trystan bursts into the room, stopping short at the sight of them. Sebastyan can only imagine what they look like right now. But still, the fact that his brother’s only reaction is a slight raising of his eyebrows has him reevaluating some things.
Namely, whether he might have been wrong about the type of relationship that exists between Emma and Trystan.
“Well?” She asks. “What happened?”
“Vasili’s in custody. Lydea will make sure that he gets to the dungeons.”
“No, I won’t.” Lydea strides into the box, looking angrier than he’s ever seen her. Her usual collected expression is a distant memory.
“What happened?”
“Colette let Vasili escape.”
It comes to him in a flash. “I take it you didn’t send her to me with a message earlier.”
Her eyes snap to his. “Tell me everything.”
“There’s not much to tell.” He runs a hand over his face. “She said you wanted to talk to me about Vasili. That’s why I was here.”
Trystan swears. “She’s been working with him this whole time.”
Lydea looks like she wants to break something. “The second I have her in my sights, I will kill her myself.”
“Not that I don’t appreciate the murderous intent, but we’re wasting time here,” Emma says. “Lydea, Bas, you know Vasili. Where would he escape to?”
“He knows the opera house well,” Trystan says. “Or at least he used to. Does he still come as often as he did before I was exiled?”
“Yes, which means that he knows this place better than almost anyone else.” Lydea’s eyes flash. “Except for me. New York, stay with Bas. Trystan, you’re with me.”
He expects Emma to object to what is obviously a glorified babysitting task, but she only nods. “Got it. He’s going to need a doctor.”
Lydea’s eyes flick down to the wound in his throat. Her mouth compresses into a tight line. “There’s one on the way.”
As they go, Emma rips off her other sleeve. “May I?” She holds up a hand. “And before you say no, you should know that was just a courtesy question. I’m going to be tying this damn thing around your neck either way.”
He huffs out an amused breath, but winces when she lays gentle fingers on his throat. Now that the shock is wearing off, the pain is setting in. “Be my guest. Why were you here?”
“Hmm?”
“Earlier, when you stopped Vasili from… Why were you here?”
She carefully ties the two ends of the fabric into a knot, and steps back. She meets his eyes. “It finally dawned on me that Vasili was most likely the killer. If he saw us talking earlier, it only made sense that he would come after you.”
“I thought you suspected me.”
“I did. But I kept having second thoughts since our conversation in the kitchen. And tonight… you were threatening Markarov.”
“So?”
“So, who in their right mind would threaten someone they’re planning to kill on the very night they’re planning to kill them? Put them on their guard like that? You’re smarter than that.”
He has to laugh. “So your reason for believing that I didn’t kill Nadja is that I’m too smart to… wait, why would you think I was planning to kill Markarov?” He remembers his ledger. “Oh.”
“You really should be more careful with your wording.”
“Yes, I’ll keep that in mind the next time somebody steals my personal planner.” He rolls his eyes. “Anyway, your reason for believing that I didn’t kill Nadja is that I’m too smart to threaten my victim? Not that I’m not capable of murder in the first place?”
“You’re a Thorne,” she reminds him.
“Fair enough. How did you realize that Vasili was…”
But he can’t finish the sentence. A woman in her fifties rushes into the box, a harried look on her face. “Prince Sebastyan! I understand that you’re bleeding from a neck wound? Let me take a look.”
“I’m fine, Mom,” Sebastyan says half an hour later. “I’ll even be able to score a few pity points out of this.”
Like hell he will. After what Vasili did, he can already see any lingering possibility of passing the Act in his lifetime evaporate. But it makes Eveline smile faintly before her face crumples again. “I just can’t believe…”
“I know.” He wraps an arm around her and buries his face in her hair. “Me neither.”
They’re in a car taking them back to the palace. Eveline wanted to stay in the opera house until Vasili was found, but by unspoken agreement, Sebastyan and Marguerite convinced her otherwise. They both know his brother now, better than they ever wanted to, and he’s smart. Vasili might not get caught at all, at least not tonight.
“What is he going to do? What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know. I just hope he doesn’t hurt anyone else before they find him.”
“How could he do this? Any of it. Where did I go wrong?”
“You didn’t go wrong anywhere.”
“Bas is right.” Marguerite’s eyes are red, but her tone is fierce. “Vasili’s choices are his own.”
“I didn’t see it.”
“None of us did.”
She takes Sebastyan’s face in her hands. “My baby. My precious boy. To think you could have…”
“But I didn’t.” He puts his hands on hers. “I’m fine. I promise.”
He isn’t lying, if by fine he means alive and out of danger. But as the car crosses the palace gates, he knows that “fine” is a ways away yet.
A very long ways.
It’s almost four in the morning when he finally enters his bedroom. Before he can do more than take his suit jacket off, there’s a knock on the door.
His heart leaps to his throat. Could it be…
He finds himself almost disappointed to see his sister on the other side. “Mags. Did you need something?”
Marguerite launches herself at him and throws her arms around his shoulders. “You’re okay. Thank God you’re okay.”
“Not for long if you don’t let me breathe.”
But she only tightens her hold on him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” It’s been a long time since he’s had cause to act like her big brother, but he strokes her hair and speaks in what he hopes is a soothing tone. “You’re not the one who tried to kill me tonight. Although you might just succeed where Vasili failed if you don’t let me breathe.”
Marguerite breaks the hug, but she stays close. Tears stream down her face. “I thought you were…”
“Nadja and Juliana’s killer?”
She flushes, but nods. “How did you know?”
“You were avoiding me tonight. I assume it’s because Emma and Trystan told you they suspected me.”
“I’m so sorry, Bas. I should have known that you would never do something like that.”
He stumbles to the nearest flat surface and sits, lingering weakness compounded by exhaustion. “Yes, well. If tonight has taught us anything, it’s that you never know what other people are capable of.”
“You can say that again.” She sits next to him and tips her head to his shoulder. “I love you.”
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. It’s been eight years since he last heard those words from her. He didn’t realize until just now how much he’s missed them. “I love you too, Mags.”
Sleeping proves impossible.
Every time he begins to doze off, he feels the phantom sensation of sharp wire tightening around his neck. Every sound becomes Vasili, coming to complete an unfinished job. Eventually, he gives up and opens his eyes. The shadows in his room melt together in an intricate dance, adding to the sense of foreboding.
Or maybe it’s just trauma.
Shock has well and truly worn off by now, and adrenaline has left the picture. There is nothing keeping him from feeling what happened, from facing the fact that his brother – his big brother, whom he spent his entire life loving and trusting – nearly slit his throat.
It defies comprehension. Sebastyan knows that it happened, but he can’t… he can’t wrap his mind around it. Did Vasili ever love him? Or was he playing a role all his life?
He doesn’t know, and he isn’t sure he wants to.
Memories cascade in his mind, no rhyme nor reason to their appearance. Vasili, defending an eight-year-old Sebastyan from a cutting Astrid. Stepping in when Kaspar and Emika teamed up to taunt him. Buying him his first legal drink. Telling his six-year-old self that Trystan didn’t mean to ignore him when he tried to play with him.
What happened? When did it go so wrong?
He turns on his side, careful not to disturb the bandage on his neck. Where is Vasili right now? Will Lydea capture him alive? The idea that she may not, that Vasili might not live to see the sunrise, draws a pained gasp from him.
“Damn you.” He isn’t sure whether hate or grief is his predominant emotion right now. He doesn’t particularly care. “How could you?”
He thinks about getting up, trying to get some work done, but… he can’t move. His body feels like lead, weighing as heavily as his heart and trapping him where he is, leaving him unable to do anything but lie there and feel, feel every excruciating emotion that he’s kept bottled up inside. He realizes now how much of the last eight years he spent trying not to feel. But that’s no longer an option now. The floodgates have been opened.
The end of his friendship with Juliana. Her death. The loss of Marguerite. All the cutting and mocking comments directed at his parentage. Everything he has responded to with anger over the years, he can feel only grief now.
He’s still in bed, tear tracks drying on his cheeks, when the pale pink of sunrise gleams through his bedroom windows. Sebastyan isn’t sure whether he’s relieved that daytime has finally arrived, or apprehensive.
Premise: Cassie brings Ethan along for her annual beach cleanup volunteer gig.
Book: Open Heart (post series)
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine)
Rating: General
Format: Text and Pic Fic
A/N: I've talked about Cassie's annual beach cleanup before. Now, she's roped Ethan into it. Submission for @choicesfebruary2024 prompt Agape - love of planet. I'm also using @choicesflashfics week 73, prompt 3 (first edit)
