Hopeless Romantic

♡ 19, obsessed with choices ♡ masterlist!

[sciralta]

in honour of pixelberry admirably trying their best to kill the tumblr fandom

[notsomassiveblackhole-deactivat]

[maxwellsbrokeass]

[kinda-iconic]

I do see a lot of hate for TNA, and I understand that; Sam was infuriating for a lot of the book.

That being said... I liked TNA.

And I am openly admitting that now.

I’m just hoping book 2 has a drama-filled plot if I’m honest.

[ashsilla]

i am very excited for tna 2!

[pixelburied]

if you were here for the jake McKenzie height discourse, you are now eligible for an AARP membership

[choicesraccoon]

Me @ at all the Choices readers who have been around since 2016 and are now watching the writing of recently released books turn into what it is today:

[ashsilla]

i’m feeling sad about choices.

i have had the app for years and have read almost every book. i love the stories and i go on the app every single day. lately, though, i go on just to get the daily reward and then close the app. doing this i have saved so many diamonds but have nothing to use them on.

with the vip feature, there is almost nothing for non-vip users anymore. foreign affairs is ending very soon and then there will only be one non-vip updating book.

i miss the days when i had to choose which new releases to read first, when there were three new chapters and i only had two keys. i miss talking about the new chapters with everyone on tumblr. now, choices tumblr feels dead and the app feels dead too.

i have replayed my favorite books and now almost feel as if i may just leave the app for a while. it makes me sad.

[nazariolahela]

That sound you hear is me screaming at the top of my lungs at how beautiful this is.

[the-delinquent-youth]

It’s really going to be like this

[acourtesanofedgewater]

I believe Winston took the picture (or well, some paparazzo comanded by him). Think of it.

-Neither MC or her LI saw the photographer's face

-Although the campus was full of paparazzis, they weren't allowed in the dinner and the pic had to be taken by someone who was on the dinner and realized MC and her LI disappeared at the same time.

-He (Winston) was still in the campus when MC came back.

-The press conference HE organized barely helped MC restore her and her mom's image.

-And for his second "damage control" plan, he assured MC they were gonna be in a safe enviroment and then threw them into live television where they got asked the question they were avoiding (this reminded me so much of The Royal Romance 2, when MC asked Justin to keep Tariq's confession under wraps and he purposedly delivered it to the press)

- AND THEN he encouraged MC to keep seeing their obviously forbidden lover, even though this could really damage his career and leave him unemployed.

It wouldn't be crazy to think he's secretly working for Lewis. Politics are a bitch, after all

[partygodlahela]

in light of the zombie book being called "zombies" i would like to propose these changes to some choices books

[pomegranatemermaid]

y’all the description for chapter 100 of MFTL means the chosen LI and photography, those are the “two first loves.” I guess that’s what the title of the book is referring to also

[ashsilla]

!!!

[ashsilla]

i’m finally playing hot couture!

i haven’t heard much about it, and the reviews i saw from people made it sound pretty mediocre. i am actually really enjoying it!

i really like marco. i think he’s a very sweet love interest. travis is okay.

i love the fashion sketchbook! i love fashion and clothes design so this is a reall fun feature for me.

overall: i love hot couture!

[ashsilla]

Neutral Ground

Book: Foreign Affairs

Pairing: F!MC (Esther Averell) x M!Blaine Hayes

A/N: At a diplomat’s ball, Esther and Blaine repel each other like magnets under the watchful camera lenses studded all around the room--but who’s to say what might happen in the absence of surveillance? Perhaps the building’s elevator might be of some use...

*

Esther sipped moodily at her non-alcoholic cocktail. She was under strict orders from her mother to not touch a single drop of anything stronger than soda for the whole evening, and judging by the way it was going, the task was going to be a lot harder than it should be.

It’s not like the event itself was to blame.

The ballroom was decorated in flags from each country on the continent, and delicacies of each country were presented, sprawling, on banquet tables on one side of the room. A large space had been cleared for dancing at the center of the space, and clustered like floral bouquets against the far walls were silk-draped tables with matching chairs. 

It was hard for it to not feel almost prison-like, though, with all of the cameramen circling the room like vultures, snapping sly pictures of all the attendees.

Esther tried to ignore the lenses pointed in her direction. She knew what they were after. Almost instinctually, she raised her dark eyes from the sugary drink in her hand to the opposite side of the dance floor, where Blaine Hayes stood. He looked absolutely amazing in a perfectly tailored suit--dark green velvet with a cream silk shirt beneath, unbuttoned a little more than was appropriate for such an event.

She couldn’t help but to notice that her ensemble seemed to match his.

Her mother had shipped in a dress made by one of Rutherland’s best tailors: a gorgeous tea-length gown, cut like something from the 1950s, with a full skirt like a bell that swept elegantly out from the nipped bodice. She’d even been given some of the family diamonds to wear for the evening, twinkling at her collarbone, pulling everyone’s gaze to the sweetheart neckline of her dress.

The fabric was the same dark green as Blaine’s suit.

“Hel-lo,” said an insistent, irritated voice.

Esther started, looking guiltily to her right. Dionne, dressed splendidly in a slinky maroon shift, was tapping her gilded foot.

“Sorry.”

Dionne sighed. “Whatever. It’s not like I’ve been saying your name for the past minute or anything.” The princess took a dainty sip of her moscato and forced a smile. “I see you’ve found something more interesting to look at, anyway.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Esther replied quickly, eyes darting at the nearest cameraman. She hoped she hadn’t been that obvious.

Her friend followed her worried stare. “Oh, relax. I noticed because I know you. Otherwise I’d think you were just...dissociating.”

“Wonderful,” Esther grumbled, and downed the rest of her drink. “I think I need some air.”

Dionne snorted. “Well, the balcony’s closed off. You can thank your boyfriend’s antics from last year for that. You’ll have to go downstairs.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Esther warned, eyes sliding once again to the cameraman.

“You’re no fun right now,” Dionne sighed. “Find me when you work it out.” She pushed her way into the crowd and was swallowed by the room.

Esther rolled her eyes, setting her empty glass on the nearest table. She really did need some air. Carefully, trying not to draw attention to herself, she made her way across the room, towards the main entrance. Upon reaching it, she glanced back, but it didn’t look like any of the cameras were facing her.

She slipped out through the grand doorway and towards the elevator bank. Though she wasn’t on an upper floor, going down two flight of stairs in her shoes would be murder. Thankfully, the elevator arrived quickly, and she stepped in with relief.

As the doors began to glide shut, a green blur darted into the elevator. “What--” Esther started, but the words dried up on her tongue as she found herself looking into Blaine’s eyes.

“Fancy seeing you here, Rutherland.” He had that infuriating smirk on.

Finally finding her voice she said, “Stop it. I know you saw me get in here.”

Blaine shrugged, all nonchalance. “Seems possible.” His grin widened at her flustered look. “Going down, I assume?” He was looking at the elevator buttons.

“Um...yes.” Esther leaned back against the wall of the elevator. He mirrored her, resting his shoulder blades on the closed elevator doors. “Aren’t you going to push the button?” she pressed.

“You’ve been avoiding me all night,” he replied, and his smirk was gone. Without it, his face was unreadable.

She shifted her weight to her other foot. “Well, there are cameras everywhere. I kind of have to.”

“You’re saying,” he drawled slowly, eyes running over her face, “that if there were no cameras, it would be different?”

Once again, Esther found herself speechless. She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. Blaine laughed softly, shaking his head.

“You know, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t laugh at me,” she finally got out, white-hot irritation sparking in her chest. “I hear it’s your fault I couldn’t even go out on the balcony tonight. What’d you do, anyway?”

Blaine met her gaze evenly. “Last year, my girlfriend and I...let’s just say we gave everyone on the ground a really really great show.”

She couldn’t help it. A slight sting of betrayal stopped her breath for a moment, though it was absurd. They weren’t anything to each other but enemies. They couldn’t be.

“Hit the button, please, or get out,” she snapped.

For a moment, he stood, watching her with the same emotionless expression. Then he pressed the button for the ground floor. The elevator began moving. Silence stretched between them. 

Then his hand darted back to the buttons and pressed the emergency stop. The elevator screeched to a halt, throwing off her balance. Esther grabbed the bar for support. “What are you doing?” she gasped.

In the next moment, his unreadable facade seemed to flake away, leaving something almost vulnerable. “I’m doing,” he said softly, “what I’ve been wanting to do all night.”

Before she had the chance to respond, Blaine had closed the distance between them and he was kissing her.

It was what she’d been wanting to do all night too.

He tasted like gin--clearly he was not sworn to the same sober night she was--and smelled of expensive cologne, something clean and pleasant. Beneath all that, he was solid and warm and insistent beneath her palms as she raised her shaking hands to cup the back of his neck, pulling his face down closer to her own.

“Let me tell you,” he murmured against her open mouth, “how amazing you look tonight.” His lips began to slide up the curve of her cheek to her ear. “I love the dress.” With a smirk, he slid a finger along her sloping neckline.

Her breath shuddered. “Tease,” she whispered.

His eyes darkened. “I’m not a tease if I intend--” he touched his lips to her left cheek, “--to follow through--” then to her right cheek, “--on all accounts.” His lips finally met hers again, and she slid her hands down his back, relishing in the softness of his velvet jacket, but wishing all the same that it was gone.

She pulled her hands to his chest and began to unbutton his blazer. He grinned against her mouth as she shoved it from his shoulders, hearing it drop down to the floor with a soft rustle. He pulled back an inch, meeting her eyes. “Careful with that. It was expensive.”

“Oh, shut up,” she sighed, and pulled him back for another kiss. He groaned against her mouth, hands splaying at her waist, gripping her tightly, holding her as if at any moment she might turn to smoke or disappear. Blaine spun her suddenly, lips never leaving hers, and pinned her against the opposite wall. Esther felt too late as her hipbone pressed too hard to the circuit.

“Blaine--” she said, and the elevator jerked back to life, descending once more.

She took in his disheveled appearance--his dark hair was tousled, tousled from her hands, and his jacket pooled, forgotten, on the floor. Panic flared in her gut. “There might be cameras down there!” she hissed.

Something like regret flickered in his eyes. “Don’t worry.” He swung down, retrieving his jacket and pulling it back on. “They won’t know anything.” Blaine reached out, tucking her dark locks back into place, and planted a last, gentle kiss to her forehead. “Now,” he murmured against her brow, “when that door opens, yell something at me.”

They jumped apart as the elevator pinged loudly, announcing their arrival on the ground floor. As the doors slid open, a slew of cameramen huddled just outside, lenses reared.

Esther glared at Blaine--hopefully it looked real. “Don’t come near me again,” she hissed at him.

Blaine scowled back at her, but as she stared back, a slight glimmer in his eyes gave him away.

She fled the elevator as fast as she could, barely making it onto the street before she burst into laughter.

[averagetastesofonelittlebird]

“How’s the tan going Maxwell? - I don’t know, how’s your dating life going? - Wow… - Yeah, that’s what she said.”

@saivilo: my first (second) attempt at Drake. I can do better, I know it.

@homeformyheart, @agentnolastname

[itsbrindleybinch]

I still can’t get over how horrific the Barthelemy storyline is if MC married Maxwell. It made me cry at points while I was playing for the treatment of one of my favourite characters.

In the TRR/TRH stories, Maxwell is only just starting to see himself as something other than the screw up, because that was the role he was told he fit into from a young age and one he has always been pigeonholed into.

Before he went into his fake coma, Barthelemy was especially critical of his youngest son and with a particular focus on his weight. This has lead to so many of Maxwell’s self-esteem issues, but when we actually consider Maxwell’s actions, even apart from anything else he is actually a smart guy and despite the way he was treated by his father is compassionate, patient, loyal and gentle.

A Maxwell who married MC in TRR is happier than he’s ever been when Barthelemy comes back. He’s in love, he’s found someone who loves him exactly the way he is and who sees the worth in him despite Maxwell never seeing that same worth in himself. He’s married and trying for a baby, a baby that will inherit the Cordonian throne, no less.

But despite that happiness, he is so worried about being a good dad. He is so scared about screwing up parenthood because that’s still how he sees himself; as the screw up.

And then he finds out his father has miraculously recovered from his coma and is delighted. He’s desperate to no longer be seen as worthless by his father and now he has the chance! And he spent the TRR series trying to improve the standing of House Beaumont and not only has he succeeded, he found his own happiness along the way.

But no, Barthelemy does not grant Maxwell that approval. Not only that, but later on he states that he sees Maxwell and MC as such unfit parents that he is going to seek custody of his granddaughter, confirming Maxwell’s fears that he can’t be trusted to raise his own daughter.

And then we find out that Barthelemy wasn’t in a coma the whole time his sons were struggling with the House’s finances. And he stayed hidden while his younger son was getting married in a large state wedding, but showed his face for his firstborn’s wedding instead.

And then we learn at the end of TRH3 that he was probably working behind the scenes to aid the plot against the Crown in TRR3. The plot that saw assassins go after his daughter-in-law, which would have broken his son’s heart if they’d succeeded. The plot that could have easily ended up with both his son and daughter-in-law dead. And he was backing that.

This entire book was so heartbreaking to read, especially with that extra context. Maxwell’s resilience through the whole thing was amazing, but I wish the impact on him had been explored with a bit more depth than quite surface-level conversation. For the whole book, he was facing the possibility of his baby girl being snatched away by his own father who had always taught him he was useless and was now trying to tell the world that he wasn’t fit to raise his child.

[ashsilla]

made me so sad. my mc never could have married anyone else

[toyhenoctus]

Okay so like Foreign Affairs is off to an amazing start but like…hear me out: 

Foreign Affairs is what The Royal Heir should have been

Like, picture it; The Royal Romance: Foreign Affairs. Imagine what it would have been like to play the heir going to a political university while they try to navigate life as a prince/princess/royal highness instead of playing diplomat to every damn ally in Cordonia and attending forty three thousand parties

Bartie could have been the Winston character

Instead of some rando named Blaine Hayes of Ardona, we could have had Blaine of Monterisso considering we never actually learned the gender of Amalas’s child (at least, I don’t think we ever learned the gender of her heir)

Even Bradshaw and Isabella’s hell twins could have shown up as other students going to Vancross

We could keep Ayna and Tatum as LIs but now maybe Tatum is like, the son of a royal guard or something so that they’re still childhood friends

I’m so ecstatic for FA but all this book is doing is reminding me that we didn’t have to go through all that nonsense with TRH. This should have been the series we were playing all along