Choices: Foreign Affairs - Tumblr Posts
So I was Playing Choices new game Foreign Affairs.
And I feel attacked.
That’s just on my phone, I once had over 70 tabs open.
That’s my computer at the moment, and that’s how it usually looks.
f!mc x f!blaine fanfic
hey everyone!! after having not seen much f!mc x f!blaine fancontent I decided to write my own. there is smut btw.
link
please leave a comment if you read it! :)
enough (m!mc x f!blaine)
Credit to @i-cant-think-of-a-name-15 for the prompt idea! I had lots of fun with this, I hope you like it :)
Pairing: M!MC (Kennedy Monroe) x F!Blaine Hayes
Word count: 1.8k
Summary: board game night shenanigans with a sprinkle of pining and angst! also slightly crack-ish.
"Boardgames," Blaine deadpans. "Seriously? You promised me fun, Rutherland."
"This is fun," Dionne insists. She's sitting with her legs pulled up on the couch, fingers wrapped around a steaming mug of tea, dressed in silk pyjamas. Peter's awkwardly perched next to her, hands clasped in his lap.
Kennedy looks from Dionne to the stack of boardgames on the coffee table in front of him, to Blaine standing in the doorway. He told her to show up at his and Dionne's suite in the evening in comfy clothes for a night-in to celebrate finishing their end-of-term exams. He hadn't specified what they would be doing exactly, but he'd hoped for the best.
And now, she did show up. In a too-large full sleeved top and leggings. That she looks adorable in. It isn’t helping Kennedy's blood pressure.
He clears his throat. "Blaine, come on. We're celebrating!"
She sighs and closes the door to the suite behind her, crossing the room to sit at the other end of the table, opposite Kennedy. Her eyes flick to his for a moment, and then back to Dionne's. "So, what are we playing?"
Kennedy shuffles through the stack on the table in front of him. "Whatever you want."
"There's also a bottle of champagne I've wanted to open since forever," Dionne adds, nodding to the bottle she placed before the couch earlier.
"Fine." Blaine surveys the stack. "How about that one?"
____________________________________________
"Peter.
How?
"
All four of them gaze down at the Jenga tower that's barely holding together. It had already been on the verge of collapsing before, but Peter had managed to somehow wrangle a piece out without upsetting the tower.
Peter shrugs, his discomfort obvious. Dionne gives him an appreciative glance that has him looking away in self-consciousness. "This isn't going to be fun for the next player." She looks to Kennedy, who's staring nervously at the teetering blocks.
"Come on, Rutherland," Blaine smirks, leaning back on her hands. She'd put her hair up in a bun, the loose strands now framing her face. "Don't tell me that you're scared of a board game."
Kennedy squares his shoulders, determination crossing over his features. It's just a board game, it would be fine. And he can't give in to Blaine's teasing. His hand hovers over the tower as he scrutinises it for the safest block to remove. Finally, he selects one and gently pries it out.
The resulting crash is loud enough to tear a little shriek out of him, which sends Blaine doubling over in laughter.
"P-R-E-O-C-C-U-P-I-E-D. That to your P-I-E, and the double word score, gives me 26 points, right?" Dionne glances up from where her pen is poised over the notepad.
Three disbelieving stares gape back at her. Blaine's frozen with a drink halfway to her mouth, Kennedy appears exhausted, and Peter looks like he can’t decide between impressed and amused.
"What?" she says, bending over the notebook again. "I had to be well versed in classic literature and poetry. Part of being a princess."
____________________________________________
"Left hand, red."
"Seriously? Red, again?"
"Yep."
Kennedy suppresses a sigh and looks around the mat. The closet circle is right next to the one Blaine has occupied, which would put him right beside her. On second thought, this was a terrible idea.
As he struggles to manoeuvre himself into the free spot, Blaine calls out to him, "Give up, Rutherland."
"Never, Ardona," he scoffs, settling into his new position. As he glances back at Dionne to ask for the next instruction, she jumps up. "Crap, my phone died—I need to plug it in. Come with me, Peter?"
Great. He doesn't know how long he can hold on in this awkward pose. His arms are already quivering. Blaine smirks from beside him. "Just let go, Rutherland."
He ignores her, focusing on keeping steady. And then, as if he doesn't have enough to worry about, she leans in. He tenses, feeling the warmth of her body. Just her proximity is enough to send his heart-rate into a frenzy. "Blaine," he warns.
She doesn't listen, moving closer. He catches a faint whiff of her soap—she must have showered earlier—now familiar and comforting. It's intoxicating, with the promise of more. With effort, he brings his head back to the game. Just as he opens his mouth to tell her off, he feels a gentle brush of lips on the exposed skin of his neck.
The gesture is the final push. His arms buckle and he collapses onto the mat. From the corner of his eye, he sees her stand and stretch. "Good game, Rutherland," she says.
"Good game?" Kennedy flips around onto his back, the strain of the game combined with the kiss leaving him breathless. She's grinning at him. "You cheated!" he complains, though he can't bring himself to be angry as he takes in the glee on her face.
"It's all in good fun," she responds. She hops onto and sprawls across the couch just as Dionne returns. "Okay, I'm done," Blaine announces.
Kennedy flops down beside her; playing Twister had tired him out more than he thought—which had nothing to do with Blaine of course. Dionne looks at them with disappointment. "I expected more drama from you two."
Their heads snap to her. "What are we, your entertainment?" asks Blaine.
"I did tell you my love life is pretty dry right now," Dionne shrugs, unrepentant as she takes a sip from her champagne glass. Kennedy's just glad Peter hadn't returned yet so he couldn't hear that; it isn’t that hard to see that there’s something between them.
He meets Blaine's eyes and looks away just as swiftly. The technicalities of whatever was going in between them was not something they wanted to hash out today. Not missing the exchange between them, Dionne hides a smile.
"How about a movie?" She grabs the remote. "There's a Pavadenian classic airing now." She finds the channel in response to assenting hums and settles back on the couch.
____________________________________________
"Is that a good idea?" Peter asks, his eyes on Dionne's champagne glass.
"Peter, we're celebrating," Dionne emphasises, her words slurring slightly. Kennedy isn't sure how many times he's heard that by now.
Blaine chuckles, amused. "He means the fact that you're on your third glass."
Dionne blinks slowly at her. "So?"
As she tries to focus on the television screen, Kennedy makes a point to grab the bottle and stash it away.
Kennedy looks down at the couch where Peter and Dionne have fallen asleep cuddled up next to each other. They look too comfortable to disturb, and rousing them would mean that the night would end. Which would mean Blaine would leave. And Kennedy doesn't want Blaine to leave just yet.
"Should we wake them?" Blaine asks, coming up beside him. Kennedy glances at the clock on the mantel—it's almost midnight. They hadn't meant to celebrate this long, and he definitely hadn't planned for two of their group to fall asleep on the couch.
He shakes his head and drapes the spare blanket over them.
"I guess I should get going then," Blaine says. Kennedy takes her in. Her hair's mostly come out of its bun and her clothes are rumpled. Her eyes are tired—no doubt because of the stress of exams but also from the late night—but bright. He doesn't want her to leave.
"No," Kennedy says, surprising himself. "Stay."
Blaine's shoulders sag. Kennedy wonders if it's too much to hope that she was waiting for him to ask her to stay. He flicks off the light and opens the door to his room, nodding at her. She gets the hint and trails after him.
Kennedy flops down onto his bed and watches Blaine, her cautiously curious gaze roaming the room as she perches on his chair at his desk. He almost wants to invite her to sit beside him, but squashes the idea, deeming it too forward.
"So," he begins, "did you have fun?"
Her eyes snap to his, startled before a slow smirk spreads across her face. "I did, actually. Who knew you'd know how to have fun?"
"Hey," he grins. Talking with Blaine is effortless somehow. They click, and he feels that he can open up to her. It helps that Blaine is an open book. "I do know how to have fun. You'd know that if you spent more time with me." Immediately, he wonders why he said that. His mom doesn't make it easy, but they do spend time together—a lot actually. Somehow, it never is enough for him.
He can't deny it anymore: he likes her. But the timing can't be worse, and so he's been keeping it buried, though he can't help his feelings and the consequent longing glances and stomach butterflies. Dionne argues that this is a terrible idea, but he knows he has to prioritise his mother's reelection campaign.
Blaine leans forward, that smirk still gracing her face, and Kennedy’s heart speeds up. "Don't we hang out enough?" she asks. "You really can't get enough of me, can you?"
No.
But she doesn't wait for his answer, turning back around to his desk and fiddling with a pen. Then, her shoulders begin to tremble, and a mixture of panic and dread creeps over Kennedy. Is she crying? Or possibly laughing? But unless she's lost it, there's nothing to laugh at.
Maybe she did want to leave then, Kennedy thinks miserably, and she felt obligated to stay when I asked. He gathers his courage and asks, "Are you okay?"
"What? Yeah, I'm fine."
"Then... why are you shaking?"
She whirls around so fast that it startles Kennedy, before pulling her legs up and hugging them. She's still shivering as she speaks in an indignant voice, "Your room is freezing."
Caught off guard and slightly alarmed, Kennedy stares at her for a second before letting out a laugh. "That's it? I thought—" He decides not to complete that sentence in order to maintain his dignity and instead gets up to rummage through his closet. He pulls out a clean hoodie and tosses it to Blaine. "Here."
She regards the clothing for a moment before tugging it on. It's big on her, like the top she's wearing, and Kennedy ignores how his heart flips at the sight. Not dwelling on it too much, he decides to take the leap and pats the bed next to him. "Come here."
Shoving her hands in the pocket, Blaine eyes the spot before crawling into the bed beside him and leaning her head on his shoulder. Kennedy tries not to tense in surprise and relaxes into it, hesitating before sliding an arm around her. To his insurmountable relief, she snuggles closer.
They settle into easy conversation late into the night, until Blaine's speech starts to slow and her eyelids begin to droop, and she falls asleep with her head on his lap. Blinking back his own sleepiness, he smoothes back her hair and smiles down at her.
They may not be able to be together, but he could treasure these moments that only he is allowed to see—and just maybe, that would be enough.
more blaine stuff i wrote
i can’t get this bunch of pixels out of my head
falling (enby!mc x m!blaine)
enough (m!mc x f!blaine)
i hope you enjoy :)
It was a while when I read Choices books, but Foreign Affairs got my attention. I guess I will romance mysterious MC’s friend and bodyguard Tatum Mendoza. I am always into friends to lovers stories. ;D
Here is Blaine that I chose. :)
This is a bad idea.
I don’t care.
Zaira is surely most beautiful girl to me in FA book. <3 I wish MC could have style like hers. :(
In the story if there were some choices to do so, surely won’t miss a chance for MC to fall “accidentally” into Tatum’s arms lol
MC x Zaira: Dreamy.
I got so obsessed with this. <3
Well, I don’t know how I feel about this sketch, as I am bad at pose drawing, but still wanted to share my efforts heh.
Male MC and Blaine studying together. :)
