My friends call me Mal and my family calls me Lia (I respond to both). I write romance and relationship-focused stories. I believe in soulmates, happy endings and finding 'the one'.
I always dreamed of becoming a writer but knew early on that I wasn't meant to be a starving artist in a garret. So, I built a career I'm proud of and wrote whenever time allowed (which was almost never for the longest time).
During the pandemic, I realized that I was tired of waiting for the stars to align to pursue my writing. So, I created this account to initially share my original novel, Happy Ever After. And then I started writing fanfiction for Open Heart, and the rest is history.
Aside from fics and edits, I post positivity quotes and coffee memes, swoon over Hallmark movies and share random musings.
I enjoy answering questions, so don't be shy. I also take fic requests -- anons are open!
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Premise: What if it’s Cassie in the fMRI machine responding to Ethan’s probing questions? Reimagining of the premium scene in 1x6.
Fandom: Open Heart
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine)
Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff.
Words: 1,435
A/N: It only took me 3 years since I first said I wanted to write a switch of this scene. But, I finally did it! Yay, me. lol
Cassie Valentine had never thought herself claustrophobic. And then she opened her big mouth and agreed to let Ethan Ramsey slide her, headfirst, into an fMRI machine, all in the name of efficiency.
He’d been too impatient to wait for radiology to test the machine. Why was he in such a hurry? She didn’t know and probably should have asked before saying yes.
She was already nervous that her body would give away her secret crush on him as he studied her neurological responses—the man was a world-famous diagnostician, after all, and she was lying flat on her back in a narrow cylinder that might as well be a lie detector.
Okay, so she knew rationally and practically, courtesy of med school, that an fMRI wouldn’t actually reveal her innermost thoughts. It also wasn’t her first time in an MRI suite.
When she’d torn her ACL in college during a ballet leap gone horribly wrong, she had spent months in and out of hospitals, undergoing treatment, surgery, and scans to track her recovery.
But her head had been outside the whole time, and she’d often been bored, staring morosely at the ceiling, grief and anger mingling at the reality of losing something that had been so integral to her identity until then.
Back then, she’d barely noticed as the machine hummed and buzzed and clanked around her. Now, as the machine slowly came online, every sound was magnified, adding to her unease.
Cassie shuddered from the cold and the nerves she couldn’t seem to shake.
She wondered anxiously what type of questions Dr. Ramsey would ask. Her low ranking in the fellowship competition and her handling of Mrs. Turner’s case last night didn’t exactly inspire confidence.
She could handle one or two things going wrong, but when everything piled on, she froze.
“Starting scan. Try not to move, Valentine,” Ethan’s voice boomed in the confined space.
Cassie exhaled slowly and forced herself to relax, mentally reviewing each of the five ballet positions until she felt the calm spread.
Here we go.
Ethan’s eyes shifted from the scan appearing on the screen to the smaller monitor beside it. Cassie had been fidgeting earlier—not surprising, as most people found the experience disorienting—but now she lay perfectly still inside the machine, her expression giving nothing away.
“Initial brain scan complete,” he said into the microphone. “We can begin.”
“How does it look?” she asked.
“Like an intern’s brain. In other words, nothing special.” He rolled his eyes, safe in the knowledge that she couldn’t see him.
“Gee, thanks,” she shot back sarcastically, making him grin.
“Focus, Valentine. Let’s try a softball question. What’s your fondest childhood memory?”
“Decorating the Christmas tree with my brother.” She smiled before continuing. “My mom said we could use whatever we wanted. It was the most ridiculous-looking thing, a hodgepodge of toy cars, action figures, and papier-mâché ornaments we had made in school. But it was ours, and we loved it.”
Cassie chuckled at the memory, and Ethan noted how her hippocampus lit up, the response spreading to her amygdala. It might have been a long time ago, but the memory was clearly still important to her.
“You wake up in prison. What did you do?”
“I killed a man in Reno.”
Ethan bit back a laugh at the quick response, delivered with relish.
“Be serious,” he said gruffly, clearing his throat.
“I am. He had it coming and only had himself to blame,” Cassie continued, steely-eyed. “If you’d have been there, if you’d have heard it, I bet you would have done the same.”
His eyes narrowed at the familiar words. Broadway musicals weren’t really his thing, but even he knew those lyrics.
“Are you reciting lyrics from a musical?” he demanded.
“Huh. I didn’t peg you for a musical fan.” She smiled mischievously. “After our frog rescue mission, I was positive you only listened to dead composers.”
Ethan ignored the implied insult. Really, she was too irreverent for an intern competing for a spot on his team.
“Moving on. I was surprised you didn’t ask me about your fellowship ranking when you chased me down earlier.”
“You wouldn’t have told me anyway,” she said, not even waiting a beat. “Besides, it’s irrelevant. I know I have to do better, so it’s not on you if I rank low.”
Ethan’s brows rose at her answer, and he wondered if she was telling the truth. He kept his eyes on the changing colors on the screen, tracking her neurological responses. A part of her believed it to be true, but it wasn’t the whole answer. She appeared conflicted.
He wanted to push further, but a glance at the clock had him reconsidering. They’d already been here too long, and he had an outpatient clinic starting in half an hour.
“Last one. Why did you want to become a doctor?”
“According to my brother, the role of Mother Teresa was taken.”
Ethan stared at the 3D map of her brain, but her wry response had him turning to the monitor. The corner of her lips twitched in a small smile before her expression became serious.
Her hypothalamus flared briefly, and he wondered at the reaction as she stayed silent.
“That’s it?” he probed, dissatisfied with the incomplete response.
“I’m thinking,” she replied, her words coming out slowly. “It’s a complicated question.”
“It’s really not, Rookie,” Ethan shot back.
“It was your research that inspired me to go into medicine.”
Scan forgotten, Ethan crossed his arms as he continued watching her on the monitor.
“I told you earlier to save the ass-kissing for someone it works on.”
“Oh, please.” She glared directly at the camera now.
“I’m not sucking up. I told you this last week at the baseball game, after I helped you win over those insurance execs. Which you never even thanked me for, by the way,” she said, disgruntled. “You really are the reason why I became a doctor. I want to help people the way you and the diagnostics team do. The people with nowhere else to go.”
Ethan turned his attention to the screen and saw several areas intensify as she repeated the team’s mission back to him, her tone signaling offense at not being taken seriously and passion for a cause that, until now, he believed only he and Naveen truly shared.
With his mentor gone, Ethan had lately begun to wonder how long he could keep Naveen’s legacy alive if there was no one else to pass it on to.
As much as he hated Harper forcing this fellowship competition on him, he could see the reasoning and the potential upside of finding someone who believed in the team’s purpose as much as he did.
Forgetting the time, he opened his mouth to ask a follow-up question, but the shrill sound of a pager interrupted his thoughts. Her white coat was draped over the back of the chair, and a green screen briefly lit up in the pocket.
“Is that mine or yours?” she asked.
He sighed. “Yours. We’re done anyway.”
A few minutes later, he pressed the button and watched her slowly slide out of the machine. An awkward silence passed between them as his blue eyes met hers, the green contemplative and shimmering under the fluorescent lights.
He looked away after helping her off the table, giving her privacy as she adjusted the flimsy hospital gown before pulling on her white coat and reaching for her clothes on the corner table.
“I’ll let you finish getting dressed.”
Ethan started to walk away, but the words left unsaid had him turning to watch her over his shoulder.
“Cassie, I…” He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, and her wary expression had him second-guessing everything. In the end, he just shrugged.
“Thanks for your help, Valentine.” He smiled briefly but sincerely. “For today and last week.”
Cassie nodded, clutching the bundle of clothes against her. “You’re welcome, Dr. Ramsey.”
He stared at her for another moment, and then, because there was nothing more to say, he marched off, closing the door silently behind him.
Once outside, he leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and reaching for the self-control he valued so much. Breathing slowly, he centered himself and took one step, then another, until he was far enough away from the fMRI suite to feel like himself again.
He had more important matters to concern himself with. Naveen had agreed to let Ethan run some tests. It had been a hard-won battle, and what came next required his complete focus.
I’m so not interested in Taylor and Travis’s wedding. And yet, it keeps showing up across all my news feeds.
I love her music, but I generally don’t care about the personal lives of actors or musicians. For example, the only reason I know Noah Kahan is married (found out this week) was because of something he said before the performance of Orbitor while on tour.
New emoji releases has one of the Valentine Twins excited.
Rafael x F!MC
Love In Every Heartbeat - Continued - @rafasgirl23415 📚
[extended: wip] A significant time jump where Mia is older but Casey & Raf are struggling to give her a sibling. TW: mention of cancer and chemotherapy, mature themes
Chapter 259 - When Three Heartbeats Falter - Part 2
Chapter 260 - Seconds From Losing Her
Chapter 261
Chapter 262 - The Night That Doesn’t Care Who It Breaks
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Every form of creative work can be submitted: fan fiction, drabbles, moodboards, edits, drawings, poems, songs, sketches, and more.
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Please tag @choicesjulychallenge2026. You can also tag @endlessflame.
so noah kahan stopped and said “taylor swift must be in such good shape. holy fuck, this is not easy!” after running around onstage at his concert? okay now what is aaron dessner’s plan to get taylor and noah at long pond studios at the same time
@jerzwriter I came across a Reddit post recently where someone wondered why certain folk and Indie artists stay small and others like Noah are now booking stadium tours. And someone commented that his manager is also Chappell Roan’s manager. They have a talent for helping artists rise quickly.
I didn’t fact check this so don’t know if it’s true. But I do think it matters who your team is and how they manage your career. And hopefully they make decisions that preserve your artistry and authenticity.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Premise: Cassie tries her best pick-up lines but Ethan’s not biting.
Fandom: Open Heart
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine)
Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff.
Words: 885
A/N: I was reviewing my fic ideas tag and found all these flirty prompts, which inspired this fic. I'm using @creativepromptsforwriting Prompt #219: Quotes (31), Prompt #690 and Prompt #970. Tagging for reblog to @creativepromptfills
Also submitting to @choicesmonthlychallenge using April prompt "touch"
It was Friday night and Donahue’s was packed. At the back of the bar, Michael Jackson blasted from the jukebox, telling everyone to beat it. Over by the pool tables, there were simultaneous loud cracks as balls split apart before rolling across the green surface.
The darts competition between surgical and medical residents was heating up, but Reggie the bartender wasn’t concerned. He’d seen a version of this rivalry play out over the years. It usually ended with the losing side buying the other a round of beer.
He wiped the inside of a glass, keeping one eye on the empty barstool reserved for one of his regulars. A threatening glare was enough to disabuse anyone who was even thinking of taking that seat.
Most nights, Ethan Ramsey could be found there, silently nursing a single Scotch and reflecting on whatever a physician of his renown reflected on. Although, ever since the man had gotten married this summer (something that still surprised Reggie), his visits had become less frequent.
But Reggie spied Ethan’s better half on the other side with her friends and knew he wouldn’t be far behind. Where Cassie Valentine was, Ethan was sure to follow.
And he was right. Ethan walked in ten minutes later, glanced briefly in his wife’s direction—a soft smile hovering on his lips—and then parked himself at the bar.
“Didn’t think you were coming tonight,” Reggie remarked, reaching under the bar for the top-shelf Scotch he kept for Ethan.
“Lost track of time,” Ethan said, rolling his shoulders and running one hand through his hair before sighing loudly. “It’s been a tedious day.”
Reggie made it a double and left him to his thoughts. Before he turned to his other customers, he caught Cassie’s eye and angled his head, nodding toward Ethan.
Her brows furrowed in confusion at first, and then she glanced at Ethan, saw his slumped shoulders, and nodded in acknowledgment.
A few minutes later, Cassie propped one elbow on the bar and leaned close.
“I have to say, you look really hot.”
“No, you don’t actually have to say that,” Ethan muttered, rolling his eyes as he sipped his whisky.
He could practically see her mentally reassess as he ignored the obvious pick-up line. Really, the woman had better ones in her repertoire. He should know, as he’d been on the receiving end of plenty.
She tried again.
“I heard that you can determine how well you fit together with another person by kissing them. Want to skip the small talk and see if we’re compatible?”
“No, thank you,” he said, not taking his eyes off the amber liquid.
It was perverse of him, but Ethan wanted to laugh at the shocked expression on her face when her second attempt failed.
He peeked at Cassie, grinning at how her green eyes narrowed in determination. She drummed her fingers on the bar top and then straightened.
Placing one hand on his jaw, she angled his face toward hers, her smile coquettish. “I think destiny wants us to be together, and you should never argue with destiny.”
“Uh-huh,” he said dismissively, secretly enjoying himself and feeling the stress he’d been carrying lighten.
It took supreme willpower not to kiss the pout forming on her lips. Ethan wondered if she was ready to call it quits, but her annoyed look told him her competitive spirit had been activated.
“You know, I believe that honesty is the best policy,” she drawled, making his heartbeat skip as she seductively traced one finger down his arm. “So to be perfectly honest, I want to spend many more days with you.”
“Sorry, I’m married,” he said, perfectly deadpan.
This time, he did laugh when she let out a short, frustrated scream and pinched his biceps.
“You try my patience, Ethan!”
Still laughing, he tugged her close, wrapping her in his arms. “In my defense, love, you’ve used better pick-up lines in the past.”
“Oh, please. That was gold-tier flirting, Ramsey,” she said, incensed.
“It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pick-up line,” he quipped, matching her earlier playfulness.
Cassie lifted one brow superciliously. “Were you expecting to have sex tonight? Because your chances are decreasing by the second.”
He grinned. “My wife is pretty forgiving.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue the assertion.
They stayed that way for a few minutes, eyes locked on each other, the bar around them fading away. The longer the silence stretched between them, the more Ethan could feel his shoulders loosen and his mind clear.
“Feeling better?” Cassie asked, her voice whisper-soft so that only he could hear.
“Yeah.”
“Good,” she said, smiling as she stepped back. “I’m going back to my friends now and leaving you to enjoy your airlock.”
Before she could walk away, Ethan reached for her hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb.
“Cassie…” he began, struggling to find the right words to capture how she made him feel, how much she had changed his life. But nothing came to mind.
“I know.” She squeezed his hand. “Finish your drink and then let’s go home.”
Home. For the longest time, he wasn’t sure what that was. But now he knew. It was wherever she was.