#and also thank you to everyone who chimed in with a prev tags and an answer lol

[queermania]

For the supernatural post about the popcorn, in case you haven't found the answer yet, it looks to me like that's jiffypop or a similar product. When you buy them they're mostly flat and made with a material that is kind of like tinfoil but idk what it actually is. The popcorn kernels are inside and you cook it directly on the stovetop. The top of the package expands as it heats up and the popcorn pops inside of it. Once it's done cooking you can open up the top and either transfer to a bowl or just eat directly from the container.

me and my whirlypop are aghast

[nanaminokanojo]

ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE | part 19

-meet cute? a cheesy musical number? forget it! love makes itself known to you through a minor car accident, a broken arm, and a treacherously charming temporary chauffeur

CHARACTERS: sukuna x you/reader | jjk characters

GENRE: full-length smau + prose | bad boy x good girl | college au | a lot of firsts | aged-up characters | strangers to lovers | smut | fluff | angst | ooc depictions - soft sukuna ftw

TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol and/or smoking | mentions of injury, promiscuity and bullying | pet names because they're cute with 2D men | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 19 next>>

A/N: Contains prose with panels in between paragraphs.

Sukuna stayed rooted on the spot. The room went silent as all eyes shifted from Uraume to you, their look of concern morphing to that of horrified looks when they finally turned their line of vision to the pink-haired male. However, his attention was on you and the apologetic look you had as you regarded him.

“Ryomen told me how you kept telling everyone about that for his sake,” Uraume began, “You don’t have to do that here, Y/N. It’s not like we’ll like him any less or otherwise, so it’s okay.”

“Still…” Suguru glared at Sukuna. “The fuck were you thinking, man?”

You started waving your hands in front of you, your ears and cheeks feeling hot from embarrassment. “I-it was an accident. Please don’t fight.”

"We're not," Sukuna assured you, arching a brow at Suguru who had a protective arm in front of you.

Satoru, who had been silently listening to the conversation, also chimed in. “Bet he had a girl with him when that happened.”

Everyone burst out laughing and Sukuna could just roll his eyes as he carelessly bumped against everyone on purpose until he was seated next to you on the couch, swatting Suguru away. He heard your apology the moment he was close enough. “It’s fine, Y/N. It’s the truth after all. I don't have to hide anything from them now.” He handed you the strawberry milk. “I didn’t think you should be taking alcohol with your constant intake of painkillers.”

“I didn’t think that was a good idea either,” you agreed thoughtfully but you still looked at him anxiously. “Thank you.”

“So, how come you’re not chasing him to hell?” Nobara asked you. “Is there some bizarre love story we don’t know about here?”

“L-love story?” If you were blushing earlier, your face was beet red from your neck to your scalp as you shook your head, but you still smiled graciously, not missing a beat when you said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s very convincing, Y/N.”

You just bit your lower lip.

“Hey, stop it!” Sukuna growled, causing everyone to shut up, but he didn’t miss the way you flinched, too. It was endearing, but he felt annoyed with himself at the same time. “Sorry.”

Your familiar mega-watt smile immediately made itself evident and he couldn’t help but return the gesture. As per usual, everyone liked you, watching as how you take every snack the boys were offering, engaging the other girls in the room in friendly conversation, being fast friends with them. Your attention may not have been solely on him like all those times he accompanied you to functions, but he still felt happy watching you interact with people he trusted. As always, you attracted them, and this time, he hoped you will be real friends with them, too.

TAG LIST: @catobsessedlady @kyo-kyo1 @junehasnotbeenfound @lavender-hvze @guacam011y @eyered @hellomeow12 @its-princessmara @light-yagami-l @domainofmarie @mythoscalliope @noble-17 @pheonix-eclipses @weebbuscuit @sukunasbudussy @lu-c1na @vinnieswife @the-haitani-baton @iaminyourfloors @needtoloveoutloud @r-ryuko09 @somestardeww @swirlingcurses @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @bronze-metal @iluv-ace

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240520]

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[hotchs-bitch]

Fluffy Feb Day 9- Pine

Warnings: platonic relationship, BAU reader, not quite fluffy but also not not fluffy (I’m sorry I’ll be better), mutual pining

Pairing: Hotch x blank slate Fem!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 668

“You know,” Derek says from across the desk, fiddling with an elastic band, “there’s an old wives tale that my ma used to tell me.”

“Yeah?” You don’t bother to look over at him, knowing that he’ll talk either way.

“Yep. It went a little something like this.” He clears his throat- dramatic- before speaking. “If you spend more than ten minutes at a time staring at your Unit Chief’s office door, it’s time to tell him how you feel.”

A month ago, this conversation would have gone a lot differently. “Derek! Shut up!” You would have hissed, your face burning hot with embarrassment. “Someone’s going to hear you!”

Now, you roll your eyes. “I thought old wives tales are supposed to rhyme,” you point out.

“Not always,” Spencer chimes in from his desk. It looks like it’s physically killing him to keep from going on one of his rambles, but he keeps it short and sweet to say, “Especially in this case.”

Ugh. Your crush is really no secret these days; the only people who don’t know are, hopefully, Hotch and Rossi.

————

Unbeknownst to any of you, the two men are having a similar conversation. “You can ask her out, Aaron. I’ve dated colleagues before.”

“Strauss is breathing down my neck for anything these days, let alone a relationship with a subordinate.” Hotch blinks twice, taken aback by his own words.

Not a relationship. The chances that you would be interested in him are dirt-low. If anything, he’d be lucky to get away without an official report being filed against him.

“Just think about it,” Rossi implores, standing up to leave the office. His last words on the way out are, “No one can stand watching the two of you pine like this. I’m going to put in for extended leave if you don’t do something about it.”

And then he’s gone.

Wait, did he say ‘the two of you’?

Before he can consider it- obviously, because if he could think about it he would be keeping his feet firmly planted right now- Aaron beelines for the door with his empty coffee mug in hand and makes his way down to the bullpen.

The ongoing chatter ceases as soon as his feet hit the ground, and he wonders what’s been going on down here. No one says a word, but you’re glaring daggers through Derek. 

“How is it going here?” Hotch stops to ask at the juncture between each desk, not wanting to seem like he’s checking on you in particular. By some miracle, the only person who pays him any attention is the person he came over here for.

“We’re making good time today. You might be able to leave before midnight, at this rate,” you joke, and Hotch cracks a smile at that.

“One of these days, maybe. Good work, everyone; keep it up.” He continues en route to the coffee machine, pours himself a cup and adds a bit of sugar to it.

When Hotch is on the way back to his office, you get his attention. “Hotch! I brought more of those cookies for Jack, the ones that I made for his birthday and he loved.”

“Thank you.” Hotch takes the plastic-wrapped plate, wonders if he can get away with cookie theft without Jack knowing. “And thanks again for doing that. It was a huge help, and he was really happy with the cookies; he hasn’t stopped talking about them yet.”

“Anytime.” You grin up at your boss. “Tell him I say hi.”

“I will,” Hotch promises before retreating up the stairs into his office.

Emily's face is buried in her hands. “What, is that your version of foreplay?”

“What? No! I’m just helping him out,” you defend, but you’re not blind to the looks your colleagues shoot each other in response.

It doesn’t matter, though. You’ve got a steady rhythm of interaction and laughter with Hotch, one that keeps you satisfied with not rocking the boat.

You can pine a little longer.

Fluffy Feb masterlist | < Prev Day | Next Day >

Fluffy Feb tags: @doctorsteths-fluffyfeb @iammirrorball @hausofwhores @allthefandomstogether @myweepingangel @hotched @spacecowboyhotch @chibsytelford @honeybrowne @formulapierre (send me a dm or ask to be tagged!)

[revengetour]

prev anon here! thanks sm for your response, you explained it all perfectly! follow up question (if you don't mind 😭) because i'm so curious how the actual shows work? do they have writers employed writing storylines? i was wondering about how the whole "villain" role and revenge tour came about for liv mainly and what led to the fandom dividedness over liv vs rhea for example? i don't know a lot but have seen mutuals take sides quite strongly on that so i'd love to know the origins of it. thanks for reading + explaining if you are able to! i appreciate you helping us understand her character <3 !

i'm so sorry i've been sitting on this for days anon ! life has been lifeing. i'm going to be honest, i'm not super well versed on how behind the scene things go. but i'm pretty sure they do have script writers! and oh gosh, there's a huge divide on the whole liv / rhea thing. my partner who writes rhea / they also used to write my billy ! ( @brut4lities ) and i have our own personal interpretations of what happened! so i'm going to share that since it's specific to my blog if that's okay? this is a super rough explanation, so i'm really sorry! if anyone wants to chime in with anything, please feel free to. rhea and liv started working together as a tag team early--ish on into their career. what started as just friends / tag teams kind of developed into something more that resembled a romantic connection. though it was pretty clear that it was more strongly felt by liv than rhea. there was a video cut by damian priest at one point that was clearly directed at rhea , i don't remember the exact wording but it was something about being held back. between that and liv telling rhea she loved her , it was kind of a tipping point for rhea. and being blunt about it, she valued her career more than liv / was afraid of the relationship between liv and herself. so it led to the betrayal that we see where rhea takes out liv's shoulder and costs her all the time out of the ring. my portrayal of liv no matter what, will harbor feelings for rhea. even if she doesn't want to ever admit it, she still cares. it fuels her main point for turning because rhea did just cast her aside and betray her. she thought what they had was something more, that she meant more to rhea than just a career? but in her mind, rhea perceives her as nothing more than dead weight now. so, a lot of what she's done is to prove to rhea that she is just as strong , if not stronger. it also took time away from her career and even if rhea meant more to her than her career, her career was still something so incredibly important to her. it derailed her from the track she could have been on to the top, she lost so much time that she could have been in the wring with. it's something that was taken from her, and something she'll never ever be able to get back. rhea took so much from her and it's why she's determined to take everything from rhea and make her feel the pain that liv felt when she was down and all alone. the only main difference between my liv portrayal and what's currently going on is that my liv doesn't join the judgement day. it was a writer's choice that didn't sit well with me? it made her seem like a pawn in finn's game. though it's arguable that her taking the judgement day and joining it is the final piece of taking rhea's family from her. but i didn't like the direction of the feud between rhea and liv becoming so wrapped up in / about men and thought they had a really good feud without all of that extra stuff added in? i can see why it was done and understand it, but for my portrayal of liv, i just don't see her letting herself become a pawn in finn's plan. which is what it felt like to me when they had her join the judgement day. she became just another moving piece of the puzzle for him. not saying anything against any other portrayal because everyone is valid and has a beautiful grasp on their characters in different ways. that doesn't mean their goals don't align and she doesn't help them when needed, like when dom's match. but i just don't see her taking the backseat to anything?? not after she's come so far. liv is so much more calculating than people give her credit for.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 154

Happy Tuesday, everyone!

I was able to get the Master Post cleaned up this morning.  I know there is a reblog going around with some of the links missing... I put that one up originally as a place holder so I could update my page links in chapters 101 through this one.   I did NOT anticipate it would get immediately reblogged, which made me squeak in pleasant surprise.  I’ll reblog the full post so everyone has the right one.

Also, thanks to @baelpenrose, @the-raven-fae, and @charlylimph-blog for keeping me going and all your help beta-reading and checking my links.  You three are the real heroes here!

“The quiet rooms are done,” Hannah yawned the next morning. “It’s a good thing we decided to make them available immediately, because the first one had people scheduling time before we finished the second one.”

“How many did we end up with?” I asked, pushing down my own urge to yawn. I had always prided myself on being able to resist the urge to yawn when others did, and I wasn’t letting that stop now.

The model of the Ark came up on the table emitter, and Hannah zoomed in on the highlighted areas. “Right now, we have twelve, just like you set up for the second Food Festival. But I’ll be honest, they rooms are already booked for the foreseeable future, and I don’t think that’s tenable.”

“Agreed. I’ll talk to the rest of the Council, but at this point, we need to see about setting all available spaces for quiet rooms.” I nodded and added that note to my agenda. “Moving on, food vendors being allowed in BioLab2. Any updates?”

Parvati flicked the data to everyone. “Grey isn’t thrilled with the possibility that the food will contaminate the aquatics, but is willing to allow vendors in ‘The Fairy Circle’?” She gave me a questioning look. “They said you would know what that meant.”

I just smiled and shook my head. “It’s where I go camping. Conor managed to pull off a prank that fooled even Charly and made a Faerie circle.  It’s a good choice, though: ten, eleven feet across, accessible, and far enough from the water that there wouldn’t be any risk.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Credit to Conor on that one. But, Grey was very enthusiastic about the idea of setting up some picnic tables throughout the woods and letting people bring picnics.”

“I already have some vendors on board, there,” I breathed in relief. “Especially the ones who specialize in the type of foods that lend themselves well to being portable.”

Hannah’s face lit up. “Do we get to taste test some of these? I’m really getting some bento box and pasty vibes from what you just said, and I’m not sure which I’m more excited about.”

“I think I can get that to happen,” I laughed. “I wouldn’t mind trying some of the options myself, but I can at least already confirm that all bases are covered for dietary requirements. Next up, where are we on the holiday date?”

“Still working with the other departments to finalize a date where all projects can be completed, paused, or at least at a point where they don’t require direct observation. Everyone is on board, though.”

“That’s the biggest hurdle,” I confirmed. “Means we can proceed with at least putting the rest of the events together in preparation for the final date. I trust you two in handling the party aspect of it, and Charly is already working Bash on another Kink Night event at the Undine - minimal planning needed there. So, let’s figure out who is coordinating the paint-tag fight, and we can loop back to the plans for the party.”

“While I am entirely sure Charly can handle planning for both the paint tag and the other - seeing as both were her ideas - it doesn’t feel fair to leave them both entirely on her shoulders,” Hannah agreed. “It says here that you already had Conor confirm we missed Holi?

“By about six months,” I confessed. “So we’re pretty much both too late and too early.”

“I do believe the arrows would be frowned upon, in any event,” Parvati joked. “I still have her paint formulas - flavors are not listed, but there is a distinct lack of both black and yellow.”

“Those were… scotch bonnet for the black, I know that one. I think the yellow was gochujang, which would still hurt if you got it in your eyes,” I recalled.

She flicked her hands, bracelets chiming. “I will ask for a new formula for yellow, but I think we can live without black paint. The yellow was lovely, though.”

“Ask nicely, and she’ll probably give you the glitter formula colors, which I think are different flavors from the regular palette,” I suggested. “And the glitter is ultra-violet reactive, so that’ll be fun.”

Emphatic stabbing at her datapad ensued - impressive, because it wasn’t even physically there, just emitted from the band on her wrist. “Once I have those, I believe Hannah and I can coordinate that along with the party.  There is no food component, it is only for one day, so the scope is far smaller than the Festival was.”

“And besides,” Hannah added with a shrug, “whip up some paints and some spongy balls to soak it up, set boundaries, invite anyone who wants to attend. Planning done.” She dusted her hands off for emphasis, but she had a point.

“I’ve got the care packages well underway, so we’re solid there. The party. What’s the plan there?”

Parvati dismissed the schematic from the table emitter and sent a different image to it. This one was practically the opposite of what I had expected: where I had anticipated Food Festival 2: Pyrotechnic Boogaloo, I was instead looking at a park that I was reasonably certain only existed in dreams.

Soft green grass that my toes wiggled to touch spanned a rolling, looping thoroughfare. Trees arched overhead like an arbor, and were either woven with lights are absolutely covered in fireflies.  Between breaks in the canopy, a night sky filled with more stars than I had seen in my living memory.  Here and there small braziers burned brightly with fire, resting on sturdy rugs and dotted around with cushions.

“Vati,” I whispered hoarsely. “We can’t use BioLab2 for this, can we? Will Grey allow it?”

“We can, and they are.” Her smile was the feral one that usually preceded a coup de grace of event planning. “This, however, is not BioLab2.  This is the corridors of levels twelve through fourteen, leading into the lab.”

My first urge was to guess what she was planning, but my mind came up blank. I circled around my desk to stand closer to the table. “Okay, talk to me. Make it make sense.”

She nodded. “The grass is real, laid down like sod. The terraforming teams have agreed to let us use it, provided we allow them to collect data on how it holds up to so much foot traffic and include a post-event question regarding the tactile feel on bare feet.  So, bare feet they shall have.” She winked when I realized she and Hannah were going to make it part of the theme. “The trees are an illusion, simple light emitters against the corridor walls, combined with the existing texture of the surface.”

When she moved the image to mimic walking further down the path, Hannah picked up. “The larger spaces are actually where the corridors are longer between quiet rooms. Rather than trying to pull off the tree illusion, we’re going to create a  night sky with shooting stars, comets, the works.  Like a dream.”

“I like it. It’s not what I was expecting, but I’m even more impressed for that.”

“We couldn’t compete with Charly,” Parvati confessed. “She is already going to have our base desires covered.  Anything we tried to do would look like a pale imitation. So, we went the other direction: What else do we do to feel alive?”

“We dream,” I laughed. “It’s all a fairy tale dream, isn’t it?”

“That’s the goal,” Hannah confirmed. “A beautiful dream. One day and one night where you can live out your humanity however you want, without having to compromise.  If someone wants to throw paint with childish abandon, then stroll and dance through a dream, and finish the night at the Undine trying something they never dared to do before, they can do that.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds decadent.”

“I was going for hedonistic, over all, but you’re on the right track,” Parvati laughed. “Hannah and I agreed that everyone on the Ark needed one perfect day.  And since perfect is different for everyone…” She shrugged. “We just decided to give them all the options.  The quiet rooms will be open if their perfect includes a botanical garden, or a cloud… the mess halls will be open if it means a feast, or even just decadent hors d'oeuvres they could never make an excuse to try. It’s literally all on the table.”

“Consider it signed off on.” I still couldn’t take my eyes off that grass, toes wiggling happily. “Just let me know the date when we have one, I need a pedicure to enjoy this completely.”

<< Prev  Masterlist  Next >>

[tsukishitstain]

series m.list || part three - kindred spirits???

tsukishima x reader smau

Your phone began to play a familiar chime with your fingers ghosting over the facetime button on the luminous screen. ‘Not that hard, why am i even nervous?? I literally just talked to him in person yesterday, so why am i getting jittery all of a sudden. I was the one who suggested we facetime in the first place!!! Keep the same bold energy y/n, we can do this!!!’ tap ‘Okay there i did it, i really did it. Now we just wait for him to-‘

“Hey y/n,” holy fuck. Was his voice always this attractive?!? And his smirk quite literally made you weak in the knees.

“Hi tsuki-san,” giggles began to flow out of your mouth involuntarily. ‘oh god i hope i don’t sound annoying-‘ Tsukishima continued the conversation before you got another chance to over analyze your actions.

“Cute pajamas.” he snickered mockingly as he observed your current attire.

“Okay but like, let’s appreciate how cute they are seriously, and they were on sale so i was able to get them for only like eight dollars!”

“Well you look like an adorable loser so that money was well spent.” He looked away from the camera so you wouldn’t be able to see the blush that was slowly creeping it’s way onto his face.

“You have an odd way of giving compliments~ sounds like what you meant to say was ‘y/n those pajamas compliment your supple glowing skin perfectly, you look absolutely stunning’”

“In your dreams. as if i would ever be that corny in real life”

“Oh wait tsuki, we should make those plans we talked about earlier before we end up talking and forget about it,” you suggested, knowing that you had a tendency to jump from topic to topic and talk endlessly. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well i don’t really have anything in mind...” he took a brief pause, before continuing his thought, “since we went to get coffee last time, should we go to a proper restaurant and eat?”

“That sounds perfect! Where should we eat at-“ you thought about it for a split second before an idea came to you, “actually surprise me!!”

“What if you don’t like the restaurant I choose, idiot? It would be better if you choose.”

“I won’t dislike the restaurant since you chose it, tsuki,” heat started to arise to your face as you continued, “and if I don’t then at least I got to experience something new. Sometimes you have to be an optimist and look at the positives that could come from a situation rather than all the things that could go wrong.”

“Okay, okay I get it, no need to go all philosophical on me. Does Monday work for you, or are you busy?”

“Monday is perfect! And I already told you that my social life is non existent so you don’t even have to ask if i’ll be busy or not.”

You two carried on with the facetime call, chatting about the minuscule details of your day. Eventually, the call time had amounted to over three hours. It had been three entire hours since the call began. ‘Time flows so quickly when i’m with you, i’m starting to notice a common theme here.’ You bring your attention back to the top left corner of the screen where Tsukishima resided on your phone. ‘He fell asleep?? How much cuter can he get at this point’ You were having a mini panic session as you screenshotted the wholesome moment at hand. “Tsuki, you’re asleep, right...?” Your question got no response, so it was safe to assume that he was unconscious. “I wanna tell you this now because i know I won’t have to courage to tell you this when you’re awake,” your thumbs twiddled as you grew anxious at the thought of the possibility that he could be awake and listening, “I think i’m serious about you...about this crush. I don’t think it’s a temporary crush. I enjoy being around you and you give me all these new and unfamiliar feelings...what i’m trying to say is that I think- no, I know that I like you. Goodnight Tsuki-san, sleep well.”

prev || next

A/N: so there might’ve been some confusion with the last part but i hope this clears things up😅what do you guys think of yumiko😳? the next chapter (part 4) might be a little boring but i promise the chapter after that (part 5) is going to be so so so good ( •̀ᴗ•́ )و ̑̑ look forward to it!! Also these chapters take me an unbelievable time to complete, i am seriously giving this series my all and you guys are my motivation so thank you (*ˊᗜˋ*)/ i’m so glad everyone is showing love and support <3 please keep in mind that this is my first smau ever so i’m trying my best to make everything flow coherently🥺if you have any questions please don’t be afraid to send me some asks!! also i finished this at 6am and didn’t proof read it soooo there are probably some mistakes

also,

for reference, here’s a timeline to avoid any confusion:

part one occurred on Tuesday

part two (the coffee date) occurred on Thursday

part three (this chapter) occurs on Friday

to be added to or removed from the taglist either comment, shoot me an ask, or message me <3

a strike through your username means I couldnt tag you for some reason :((

taglist~

@beastboypng @thatonee @jeez-niki @galagcica @idiot-juice-enthusiast @resetrestartandreplay

[livingthroughchoices-blog]

The Marshmallow Chronicles (Ch. 16: The Beaumont Bash) *NSFW*

Prev | Next

Author’s notes: Right. So I am SUPER nervous about this chapter bc it’s the most different and the one I’ve added the most stuff to so far. I really hope you like it omg. It’s also the longest yet. As always, I’m deeply sorry if you have to scroll through this on the app, but as of now, there’s nothing I can do about it /:

Thanks to all who like, reblog and/or comment, you guys keep me going! And especially to @starstruckzonkoperatorbat, @notoriouscs, @simplyaiden-blog, @snyggflicka, @asprankle, @speedyoperarascalparty, @mirivalencia, @mymandrake, @asobigokoro2018, @krisnicjack and @fabi-en-ciel for asking me to tag them! Please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged (:

I love you and I reaaally hope this is okay.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mention of depression, suicide.

Rating: NSFW

Pairing: Drake x MC

Words: 8,059

As he got ready for the Beaumont Bash, Drake was aware of feeling an aching thirst for alcohol. He figured getting wasted was his best chance at surviving the unbearable sight of Liam and Riley together and might even stop him from thinking about her all night. 

With this in mind, he poured himself a glass of the unopened bottle of whiskey Liam had given him for his birthday. He swallowed with savage pleasure, as if Liam could know he was ignoring his request to share it with friends.

He debated whether to pour himself a second glass, then decided against it; he’d been to enough Beaumont parties to know this would be a long night. He should pace himself.

Having thrown his usual outfit on, he barely glanced at the mirror, not really caring much at all about his appearance tonight. 

It’s not like anyone will be looking. 

He trudged down to the ballroom, only to find Lady Kiara at the foot of the stairs. In his current mood, he gladly would have avoided her, but it was unfortunately the only way down.

Nevertheless, he tried to keep their meeting short and discourage conversation by saying, “Lady Kiara,” as curtly as possible and not stopping. 

He wasn’t fast enough, though, as a hand seized his forearm before he could make his getaway.

“And where do you think you’re going, Monsieur Walker?” she asked with a smirk. “I haven’t forgotten your promise of a legendary night, tu comprends?”

Oh fuck, not this. Why did I have to open my goddamn mouth?

Drake extricated his arm as politely as he could and averted his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I comprends or whatever.” This made Kiara giggle, so he added a very discouraging, “We’ll see,” for good measure.

He burst into the ballroom, eager to fade into the crowd and get drunk by himself. And who should be there to welcome here other than Riley. She was wearing a midnight blue dress that made her skin look radiant and her eyes a deeper color than usual. Her hair was up in an elegant bun. Drake privately decided – I shouldn’t even be thinking about this – that he preferred it down, but there was no denying she looked beautiful either way.

Of fucking course. Can’t have a moment of peace around here. Does she always have to look so... so...

His frustration was such that he couldn’t come up with a single word for her; he came up with too many. He realized he’d pursed his lips and balled his fists when he’s seen her. He relaxed as he stepped up to her.

“Welcome to the Beaumont Bash...” she said with a grin. 

You’d think nothing happened yesterday. 

“You’ll recognize some of these fine floral arrangements as yours...” she gestured to the centerpieces.

“Heh. After yesterday, I was skeptical about this place being ready in time, but...” he looked around the lavish room, appraising it. “Looks like you’re about to have an actual party here.”

“I know, right?” said Riley excitedly. She gave him a once over, seeing him fully for the first time. “Though... you don’t look like you’re dressed for the occasion.”

Drake opened his arms as if on display. “You don’t like my look? This shirt’s clean.”

Riley sighed and rolled her eyes. “I guess that’s the most I should expect. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dress up for these fancy events. It might be a nice change of pace.”

The comment stung more than it should have. 

Well, what did you expect? She’s marrying a prince! Why wouldn’t she think you look like crap? Anyway, me? Dressed like a fucking noble? No way.

He shrugged studiously. “Eh. Fashion is subjective. Besides, people are here to see the Prince, not me.” He attempted to keep the bitterness out of his voice at that last part; it was just a fact, after all. He thought he’d been successful until he saw Riley was shaking his head sadly at him.

He was about to reassure her that he didn’t mind, when Hana bounded up to them. She waved at him with a smile and he returned her greeting with the most cheerful nod he could muster. He felt an arm around his shoulder and turned to see Maxwell had joined them as well.

“Riley! Maxwell! I’ve never been to the Beaumont estate before. This looks wonderful,” admired Hana.

Maxwell replied, “Thank you, Hana...” as Drake shrugged his arm off.

“And you look lovely tonight, Riley,” said Hana, her eyes shining as she took in Riley’s elegant figure.

Riley beamed and returned the compliment, “As always, you look gorgeous too!”

Hana blushed deeply. To the unsuspecting eye, she might just seem like someone who was not used to receiving compliments, but Drake knew better; the corners of her lips were twitching and it was clear to him she was fighting back a smitten smile.

Luckily for Hana, at that moment, the waiters started bringing out the appetizers.

“Our creations!” Maxwell whispered.

“I hope people like them...” said Riley, biting her lip.

Lady Kiara, who was just behind them, wondered aloud, “Uhh... what is this dish?” when the waiter handed her one, along with a napkin.

Maxwell, doing his best pompous celebrity chef impression, explained, “What you have there is a deconstructed delicacy of caviar cultivated from pampered hake fish of the Swedish fjords with paprika harvested from a micro-nursery in Provence.”

Lady Penelope had bitten into it halfway through Maxwell’s bluffing description and now exclaimed, “Wow... so fancy... I like them! Spicy, salty, definitely unique.”

Encouraged by her friend’s reaction, Lady Kiara gave it a small bite too. “Mmmm... It reminds me of when I dined at the top of la Tour Eiffel in Paris! Did you use the same chef?”

She looked so impressed, Drake almost snorted. 

Rich people. Throw some food together, call it something fancy and they're happy.

“Someone comparable,” choked out Maxwell, obviously holding back laughter.

The suitors moved on to mingling with other nobles and Maxwell turned to his friends, “Well, the reactions to our appetizers seem mostly positive.”

“They like the food? Really?” Riley’s smile was almost ear to ear. “I can’t believe we pulled that off.”

“Yeah. I really thought this would be a complete disaster,” agreed Drake.

“I told you... it’s all in the marketing!” Maxwell gave him finger guns. 

Drake’s snide response was interrupted by the arrival of his two least favorite people – or should I say my least favorite snake and possessed murder doll.

Judging by the grimace on Riley’s face, which she quickly covered up with a reluctant smile, she felt the same way. “Duchess Olivia... Countess Madeleine... welcome.”

Hell no. 

Maxwell seemed to be thinking similarly, for he walked away from the group with Drake.

They each grabbed a glass of champagne.

“To not being a part of that conversation,” toasted Drake.

Maxwell chuckled and clinked his glass, saying, “Oh, come on, Drake, they’re not that bad. Olivia has been very loyal to Liam.”

“So? Doesn’t change the fact she’s about as pleasant as a root canal. And don’t get me started on Madeleine!”

“What’s wrong with her?���

“Are you kidding? I’d trust her as far as I could throw... Liam; I could probably throw her pretty far, actually. At least Olivia’s open about how terrible she is.”

“That’s a fair point,” Maxwell conceded. “She’s definitely crafty.”

“That’s one way to put it."

Noticing Madeleine and Olivia had moved on, Maxwell and Drake returned to where Riley and Hana were standing.

“Welcome, everyone,” rang out Bertrand’s clear voice. “If you’ll please take your seats, dinner will begin shortly.”

"That’s my cue. I have a seat in the back,” Drake said, pointing to his table, “so I’ll see you after dinner.”

“And I’d better go and take my seat with the other ladies,” chimed in Hana.

Riley pouted, “I wish we could have all sat together.”

Drake touched her arm lightly. “Hey, don’t look so disappointed, Addams. You’re sitting with royalty. I learned a long time ago I don’t fit in there.” He sighed in resignation. “But don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be able to handle one dinner without us.”

“Right...” Riley replied dubiously.

"We’ll catch up later!” Hana reassured her.

On his way to his unglamorous table, Drake overheard Olivia whine, “What am I doing back here?” He automatically made eye contact with Riley across the room and they both burst into laughter. 

Still chucking he sat down at a table with Bastien and other guards.

He tuned out most of the conversation throughout the meal, focusing instead on the food and drink. He had to admit, dinner hadn’t been half bad, considering it was fancy rich people nonsense. The champagne was the best part, though.

Feeling slightly less grumpy thanks to the food and – in large part – to the alcohol, he felt ready to start a conversation.

"So, Bastien,” he turned to his right, “did you find the person behind the photos?”

“Not yet. I haven’t been able to get ahold of the reporter to whom they were being sold,” the older man grimaced, clearing his plate.

“Bummer.” What Bastien had said reminded Drake of something else. “Oh, hey, what’s this I hear about a reporter being caught inside the grounds at the Manor? It it true?”

He gathered from Bastien’s exasperated sigh that it was.

“What the hell, Bastien?! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was under the impression that I reported to Prince Liam, not to you,” Bastien snapped with ice in his voice.

Drake was momentarily hurt into silence. The fact that he’d specifically said he reported to Liam instead of King Constantine seemed designed to make him feel smaller. Bastien sighed again and put a hand on his shoulder; Drake resisted the urge to brush it off.

“It was nothing, all right? I figured you had enough on your mind and didn’t want to add to it because of a meaningless incident. She was caught and promptly escorted out. End of story.”

“How can you be sure she didn’t do anything? Take pictures or... I don’t know.”

“Drake, we made sure, trust me.”

Bastien met his eyes earnestly. Drake felt ashamed at having doubted his old friend. 

Why would he tell you anyway? What have you ever done? 

He shook his head as if to rid himself of that spiteful little voice.

"I have had a lot on my mind lately,” he admitted. “What with Liam’s Coronation, and Riley–”

“I see Lady Kiara is still taken with you.”

“Wh-what?”

He whipped his head around to the suitors’ table and saw Lady Kiara engrossed in a conversation with Hana.

“What are you talking about? She’s not even looking this way.”

“You just missed it.” Bastien clicked his tongue regretfully. “I think she’d be good for you, if you don’t mind my saying.”

“Uh, really?”

“Definitely! She is charming and intelligent, and I’m sure I have heard you mention her physical, er, attributes.”

“Yeah, Bastien, she’s hot, you can say it.”

“I will not. But I hope you take my meaning.”

“Now that the dessert course has been served, the grand hall is now open,” came Bertrand’s voice from the main table. “Please join us there for the after-dinner festivities!”

Standing up, Bastien patted his shoulder before leaving the ballroom along with his men to take his position in the main hall, where the party was to be held. Drake filed out of the ballroom alone and stood among the crowd anonymously as Bertrand continued giving unnecessary speeches.

“Citizens, nobles, friends, we’ve gathered here today to celebrate the end of the social season. So if you’ll hear me out, I’d like to share a few words...”

At this point, Drake’s attention drifted. 

There’s only so much noble rambling I can take in one night. 

He looked around and spotted Liam at the very front with his family. He wasn’t eager to join the King and Queen, so he kept searching the crowd. Hana was carrying what seemed like a tiresome conversation with Lady Penelope. Drake shuddered. 

I’d rather be alone than talk about poodles. 

Left with no other choices, he looked for Maxwell.

Disconcerted, he realized his friend was not part of the crowd. 

Where the hell is he?

Bertrand’s voice, once again, broke through his confusion, “... and so, with all of House Beaumont with me, let us propose a toast!”

Drake finally spotted Maxwell coming up the stairs carrying a mace. Close behind him – his eyes widened – was Riley, valiantly hauling a battle axe that looked like it weighed about as much as she did.

“To our gracious royal family...” Bertrand continued.

“To all those here tonight!” Maxwell added.

“And to the PARTTYYYY!” Riley yelled, hoisting the battle axe up precariously. “Let’s rock this place to the ground!”

“YEEEAAAHHH!” Maxwell pumped his fists.

He swung the mace at the champagne, shattering the bottle.

“We’ve never let a lost bottle stop us before. Bring out another!” called Bertrand to the staff.

“WOOOOOOOO!” Maxwell was almost buzzing with frantic energy, his hand and bottom half soaked in champagne.

Riley gripped her axe and sliced with difficulty at the bottle. Perhaps because it was so heavy and thus she had very little momentum, she managed to hack the cork clean off. Champagne immediately bubbled out and she took a drink directly from it. Beginner’s luck, scoffed Drake, though he had to admit to being a little impressed.

Maxwell, on the other hand, was very impressed, and possibly a bit jealous, “Whoa... It took me much longer to master that move.”

“From all of us at House Beaumont... thank you!” Bertrand brandished the bottle Riley had opened at the crowd and they cheered in unison. Waiters marched into the room with tray upon tray of champagne. 

Thank God. 

Drake’s pleasant buzz had begun to subside and he knew he was only a few sober minutes away from getting sulky. 

Meanwhile, Maxwell had raced to the top of the stairs.

“... Maxwell!” Bertrand said.

“What?” Maxwell called back.

“Let the revelry begin!”

“AWWWWWWWWW YEAH!” yelled the younger Beaumont, sliding down the banister.

Deafening pop music blared all around the room, and professional dancers and acrobats, dressed in colorful, circus-like costumes, made their entrance. The room now felt twice as crowded.

Drake stood in his spot, back against the wall, gulping down the champagne he’d snagged from a passing waiter. He didn’t notice his friends walking over to him until Liam spoke, “So, enjoying the party, Drake?”

“It’s been less than two minutes, and my ears hurt...” he grumbled.

Liam elbowed him, “Come on, Drake, you usually give it at least five minutes before tapping out.”

I usually don’t have a crush on the girl you’re marrying.

“There’s so much happening,” Hana marveled.

Drake rolled his eyes. “That’s the problem.”

As if on cue, he heard Bertrand shout, “Bring out the horses!”

“The horses!” Maxwell echoed.

“The horses?! You’re bringing horses in here?!” Riley asked over the music.

“Who’s ready for a little horse riding?” Bertrand led the horses to the center of the room.

“I am!” Maxwell piped up.

“Great...” Drake shook his head. He hated this tradition of theirs. The poor horses couldn’t understand what was happening and were obviously spooked. 

Fucking nobles and their “eccentricities”.  

Maxwell, already mounted, asked, “Who will be my partner?”

“How about our king-to-be?” suggested Bertrand.

“I nominate Drake as my proxy.”

If looks could kill, Cordonia would have found itself without an heir. Liam held back a laugh at Drake’s irritation, but the latter merely said, “Oh, no, you’re not forcing me into the saddle tonight.”

Hana chose that moment to say, “I vote for Riley!”

“Riley!” Maxwell repeated.

“Come on up then, Lady Riley.” Bertrand offered her his hand. “Your saddle awaits.”

Riley was helped onto the horse, which whinnied uneasily. “Easy, girl.” 

Riley scratched the horse’s mane and that seemed to help calm it down. She then led it in a gentle turn around the room.

She and Maxwell waved at the crowds.

"My fellow Cordonians, take a picture!” Riley proclaimed. “I want everyone to see my noble horseback pose.”

Drake snorted at that. She wasn’t a bad rider and her pose was not terrible but it was a far cry from “noble” as she put it. Not for the first time, he found himself wishing he could teach her better, before clamping down on that dumb instinct.

“Phones are not allowed inside these parties. Nobody wants to see embarrassing pictures of themselves in the news.”

Bertrand was right; phones were not allowed and yet... there were always exceptions, weren’t there? He thought back to Maxwell’s video of him dancing to Hayley Rose and felt his face grow warm. A lot more sinister were the pictures of the bachelor party that someone had tried to sell for profit.

“I’ll take mental pictures for you,” Hana consoled her.

After going around the room once more for their adoring fans, Maxwell said, “We should let some others ride around on the horses.”

“Fair enough.” Riley dismounted and made a beeline for Drake.

“Drake! I feel like I haven’t see you all day.”

That’s ‘cause I’ve been avoiding you.

“Well, you’re seeing me know,” he replied, noncommittal, looking down at his champagne.

“Yeah and guess what? I wish your face didn’t look like you just swallowed a lemon.”

He looked up sharply at that, eyes narrowed, and Riley laughed. As per usual, her laugh was too contagious to resist and he ended up chuckling along.

“See? That’s better,” she smiled and brushed her fingers against his. He stopped laughing instantly. 

“I need a drink.”

“Me too! I’ll come with!” 

He groaned a little but could think of no way to dissuade her without hurting her feelings, so he let her follow him to the makeshift bar.

He opened his mouth to order whiskey, when Riley elbowed him aside and spoke over him. “Do not give this man whiskey. Do not. We’ll have two shots instead.”

The bartender looked at her expectantly. When Riley didn’t elaborate, he asked, “Shots of what?”

“Surprise us.” Riley turned to Drake and smiled with that mischievous glint in her eyes. “Scared, Drake?”

“Pff, I can drink you under the table, no problem.”

“Then how about a bet?”

“What? Another one? We both have bets we never settled!”

“Then I guess they cancel each other out!”

“You just wanna get out of paying up, Addams.”

“How dare you! I’ll remember this insult against my honor when you lose, you know?”

Drake put on a whiny voice and begged, “Oh, please don’t, I’m so scared. I’m sorry I insulted your honor, Lady Riley the Waitress.”

“That’s Head Waitress to you, grumpy commoner.”

They were so busy trying to stare each other down, they didn’t realize their shots were ready. The bartender cleared his throat awkwardly. 

Drake turned to him, “Er, right sorry,” and grabbed the two shot glasses.

Handing Riley hers, he proposed, “Okay, how about whoever makes a face or shows any difficulty in swallowing this, loses?”

Riley put on her best poker face, though he noticed her lips were still twitching. “You’re on.”

They clinked their glasses, maintaining eye contact the whole time – I have to, for the bet! – and then threw their heads back. The base was definitely vodka. Drake had only negative experiences from his teenage years to associate with that spirit, but he powered through his body’s rejection of it. 

Riley was not faring as well; for a moment it seemed like she might actually throw it back up. In the end, she managed to keep it down, but she couldn’t help the pronounced grimace on her face as she did.

“HA! I knew it!”

“No! I demand a redo! I cannot handle vodka, okay? My body hates it!”

“Rules are rules, Addams, don’t tell me you’d back down from a bet? Surely your honor wouldn’t allow it,” he teased.

She took a step forward, “Well, maybe I’m not so honorable...”

Drake licked his lips unconsciously. “Neither am I.”

He hadn’t realized when it happened, but his breath had quickened. He felt his hand rising as if of its own accord, reaching toward her, to touch her.

A familiar tall figure was approaching them from behind Riley.

“I better go. Wouldn’t want to interrupt your time with the prince,” Drake said, leaving hurriedly back to the bar and ordering whiskey.

Leaning against it, he had a prime view of Liam and Riley talking. He went to take a swig of his whiskey only to find it empty. He ordered another one straight away. When the bartender handed it to him, he saw Olivia interrupt the couple.

Yes! Go Olivia! Oh my God, what the fuck. I’m actually happy to see Olivia. 

Before leaving with a person that Drake considered to be in his personal bottom three and yet felt like hugging right now, Liam kissed Riley on the cheek. Drake downed his whiskey and ordered the next.

The rest of the party went by in a blur of alcohol, dancing – or, in Drake’s case, being forced to dance by Maxwell – and crazy hijinks, like trying to shoot an arrow through an apple on a bust’s head. 

Nobody could do it. They hit other things, though... The bust, mostly. But there was an exciting moment when Penelope, swaying, very nearly hit Maxwell. He wouldn’t have been badly hurt – the arrows were blunt – and it hadn’t even brushed him, yet he still took it upon himself to act out a Shakespearean death scene, much to everyone’s amusement. 

Drake hadn’t even tried. His level of drunkenness paired with how bad he was at archery at the best of times was a recipe for disaster; even drunk him knew that.

The party felt like it was winding down. Lady Kiara was sitting on the floor in the corner, moaning, “Too... too much... Je ne me sens pas bien.”

Penelope, in the meantime, was leaning against one of the horses, going, “You know, horse. You and I have so much in common... hair, bodies, an adoration of poodles. You’re like my equine soulmate.” She seemed to doze off at that point.

Liam and Olivia were chatting in very loud voices. Well, Olivia was; Liam was talking maybe a tiny bit louder than he normally would, but his cheeks were far more rosy than usual.

Bertrand was sitting against a column with an empty champagne bottle in one hand – Drake didn’t doubt he’d drank it all himself – and a sword in the other.

“We gave those apples what for,” he said proudly to no one in particular.

Maxwell, to no one’s surprise, was still dancing while Riley and Hana looked on, amazed at his energy.

Drake walked over, hoping the fact that everyone was pretty drunk meant he could go. “It’s over. I’m finally free.”

Maxwell stopped dancing and wheeled around to face Drake. “What do you mean ‘it’s over’? The party is just getting started.”

“Lady Penelope is literally talking to a horse,” he nodded toward her. “The party has done its job.”

"Your mane is so soft,” she was saying as she ran her fingers through it. “You have to tell me who does your hair.”

“Back home, this was always about the time we’d break out a game of Truth or Dare, but I bet you guys are too classy for that!” Riley raised an eyebrow.

“You’d be betting wrong! I love Truth or Dare.” 

Of course Maxwell would love a party game.

“’Truth or Dare’?” Hana met Drake’s eyes; they both seemed to be thinking the same thing: Truths could mean trouble. “That sounds dangerous...”

“Well... only if you have something to hide...” shrugged Riley. Drake almost laughed. “Or a fear of embarrassing stunts...”

She looked at Hana beseechingly and the latter couldn’t resist, “It sounds... Fun!” 

Normally, Drake wouldn’t blame her, he knew by now how powerless he was to resist Riley’s requests but... 

Dammit, Hana! Not after yesterday!

Riley took Hana’s hands, “I can’t believe you’ve never played! Now we’ve go to do it.”

Drake shook his head over and over. “Oh no. I’m not playing Truth or Dare.”

“Come on, Drake, we should do it for Hana,” pleaded Riley.

Hana backtracked politely, “I don’t want to pressure you guys into doing something on my behalf.”

“But I would!” said Maxwell. “Do it! Do it!”

“I see where this is going...” Drake was already rubbing his face tiredly, waiting for what he knew was coming.

“Drake! Drake! Drake!”

Aaand there it is. Does this man ever not chant?!

“Okay... fine. I’ll play, just stop chanting my name.”

“Whoohoo! Someone’s going streaking tonight!” Maxwell wiggled his eyebrows.

“We can play in my room!” Hana offered, and she led the way upstairs.

Drake and Maxwell followed suit. Riley, for all her talk, lingered behind. 

Waiting for Liam? 

He didn’t know what to feel if that was the case. On the one hand, relief that he wouldn’t have to play a risky drinking game with her; on the other, pure, uncontrollable jealousy. 

Who am I kidding? I’m no closer to controlling this stupid crush than I am to controlling the fucking weather. 

To his immense relief and despite his hesitancy to play Truth or Dare with her, Riley joined them soon in Hana’s room. They were all sitting crosslegged on the floor in a circle. Riley took a spot between Hana and Maxwell, facing Drake.

“This is so exciting! How do we start?” asked Hana.

“Usually with a few drinks,” Drake replied.

“Oooh, there’s a full bar!” said Hana, noticing it for the first time. 

We are very different people. 

“What do you guys want?” she asked.

“Make me something fruity and delicious!” requested Maxwell. “I know! I want Sex on the Beach!”

Hana’s hand went to her mouth, her cheeks turning red, “Oh my! I don’t think...”

“It’s a drink...” explained Maxwell hastily. “Never mind, I’ll make it myself.” He stood up and joined her at the minibar.

“I’ll just have–”

Riley cut Drake off, “Let me guess. Whiskey.”

Drake rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his face heat up, “I’m getting predictable, aren’t I?”

“Maybe just a little bit,” she said with a small smile.

“What about you, Riley?” asked Hana. 

“I’ll have a whiskey, too,” she winked at Drake, who couldn’t help grinning back.

Hana poured two whiskeys and a glass for champagne for herself, while Maxwell mixed himself a bright orange drink.

“Cheers, friends! Thank you for joining me tonight!” Hana extended her hand to the center of the circle.

“Cheers.” Drake followed.

Maxwell added, “To friendship!”

“To friendship!” agreed Riley, clinking her glass to the others’. “And Truth or Dare!”

Drake drank deeply, remembering what they were all there for. “Oh boy, this is going to be a long night.”

“Drinks have been accomplished! Now, what comes next?” Hana looked at them expectantly.

“Someone goes first,” said Maxwell.

“Addams should start.” Drake pointed at her. “This was her idea.”

Maxwell turned to her, “Okay, Riley... truth or dare?”

“I choose Truth.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Maxwell rubbed his hands together with relish. “I’ve got a great one for you. If you were stranded on a desert island, where you’ll never see anyone or any civilization ever again... Which one of us would you want with you?”

Riley pretended to think for a moment, tapping an exaggerated finger to her chin, then announced, “I’d want Drake!”

He could not have been more taken aback. He knew they were on good terms now, maybe even more than that if yesterday was anything to go by, but there was no denying he was a difficult person to be around, let alone be stuck with. 

“Me? Be honest, Addams, you just want me there so I’m suffering as much as you are.”

“Mostly just to see how you’d look in a grass skirt,” she smirked.

“Hey!” Drake threw a nearby cushion at her, which she deflected with her arm, laughing. 

“Ha ha!” Drake allowed Maxwell to laugh for a second before glaring at him.

“Just kidding. I think you’d be gruff and grumpy, but deep down, when it counts, you’d probably save me from a tiger or something,” continued Riley.

“Well, I’d feel terrible if a tiger ate my only companion,” joked Drake.

“And there wouldn’t be any nobles around, or courtly intrigue, or gossip...” Riley was now looking intensely at him, as if trying to say something other than what her words conveyed. “In fact, I think you might enjoy being stranded more than palace life.”

Staring into those hypnotizing blue eyes, all Drake could think was that he’d sell several body parts if it meant he could be alone with Riley anywhere. Even a deserted island.

The corner of his lip quirked up, “You never know.”

“Okay, Maxwell, it’s your turn.” Riley broke their eye contact before the others could wonder if there was something else to the innocent answer. “Truth or dare?”

“Dealer’s choice! I’m not afraid of anything!” 

“Okay, then, tell us a secret that no one else knows about you.”

Maxwell’s bravado faded right away. “Aw, I’m an open book! Everyone knows everything about me!”

Drake scoffed, thinking back to how weird Maxwell had been just the day before. “Nope.”

He caught Riley’s eye and she nodded, remembering the same thing. “Not true at all.”

“We know almost nothing about you!” countered Hana.

“Well, all anyone ever had to do was ask. Okay, let’s see...” Maxwell reflected for a moment, then said, “I hate carousels.”

“Really?” asked Riley, incredulous. “I thought everyone loved carousels...”

Maxwell elaborated, “When I was little, the royal court took all the kids to a theme park for the Prince’s birthday. But when we were on the carousel, some reporters got in and mobbed us. The security team did their best to get us all out of there, but I was the last one they got to. So I was stuck on this dumb carousel for what seemed like forever with people taking pictures and shouting questions at me.” 

He had a glassy look in his eyes, as if transported back to the horror of helplessly riding a fake horse round and round. 

“I was only three... I had no idea what was really going on. And because our parents had spent so much time trying to warn us about dangers, I thought I was about to get murdered.”

Riley leaned her head on his shoulder, “Aww... Maxwell...”

He shook himself. “I’m fine. I was a long time ago.”

“Still...” Hana sounded disproportionately concerned.

“Aw, geez, this is why I don’t like to talk about serious stuff. I’m fine, you guys!” Maxwell reassured them. “Just forget it! Next up... Hana, truth or dare?”

It struck Drake that this was something Maxwell did all the time and he was an expert at it: seemingly divulging information about himself while at the same time withholding anything of meaning. The fact remained that he had no idea what his friend was going through right now and likely wouldn’t find out anytime soon if Maxwell insisted on bottling it up. Not that he was a model of mental health.

He turned his attention back to the game. Hana had just decided, “Oh... um... truth!”

“Tell us about your first kiss,” said Maxwell.

Hana bit her lip. “My first kiss?”

“You have been kissed, right?” Maxwell asked curiously. 

Tactful.

Hana’s brow furrowed. “Yes, of course.”

“You were engaged, after all!” Riley shot Maxwell a reproachful look.

“Well... it was actually a very chaste courtship. Our first kiss was in front of a professional photographer for our engagement photo shoot. My parents were insistent that we publish a very public announcement in all of the papers. It was... somewhat awkward,” she finished, staring down at her hands.

“He wasn’t a great kisser?” grimaced Riley.

Hana sighed and said, “He missed.”

Drake had never been so confused. “Missed? How?”

“He kissed my ear. Well, he punctured his lip on my earring, actually. He started bleeding. I felt terrible. My parents were furious that he ruined my dress. It was a complete disaster.”

Drake had been about to burst out laughing, when he caught a subtle shake of Riley’s head. 

Okay, not the time. 

He carefully avoided looking at Maxwell, whom he knew would also be close to laughter. One glance and they’d both cave.

“Hana, you deserved a better first kiss than that!” Riley put her arm around Hana. Drake saw her smile in absolute delight, holding Riley’s hand.

“Thank you, Riley. But it wasn’t so bad. Looking back, it was actually pretty funny. I mean, who can miss that badly on a kiss?”

Feeling like he had permission, Drake laughed, expecting Maxwell to join him. However, he only gave a small, “Hah!” 

Drake turned to him questioningly and Maxwell continued, “I know. I mean. What a loser...”

By now, Drake was excellent at knowing when his friend was hiding something. “Maxwell...”

Maxwell sighed and slumped his shoulders, “Okay, maybe I accidentally kissed someone’s chin but that’s, like, a totally understandable mistake, right? I mean, it’s right below the mouth...”

Hana did an amazing job of containing her laughter, only letting out a small giggle, “Hee hee. Yes, that’s completely normal.”

Riley and Drake however, were not so considerate, howling with laughter.

Annoyed after a minute of this, Maxwell talked loudly over their subsiding laughter, “Okay, my turn again! Riley, I dare you to go streak through the ballroom in your underwear!”

Uh oh.

The exact same thought seemed to have crossed Hana’s mind for her eyes widened and she glanced at Drake instantly. Fuck. I cannot see Addams in her underwear again. I might spontaneously combust.

Hana beat him to the punch, “That’s not fair! It’s not her turn.”

“Yeah, and she didn’t even choose ‘dare’,” Drake pointed out

“Well someone should streak tonight or this game is a bust. Come now, Riley, it’s your game. Who will it be?” asked Maxwell.

This time, she didn’t even pretend to think, “Drake.”

He rolled his eyes at her and felt his face grow warm.

“You trying to see me shirtless, Addams?”

“Not if you run fast enough!” she said cheerfully.

The group went down to the now deserted ballroom. The tables had already been cleared by the palace staff, leaving a vast, empty room perfect for something like running around half naked.

“The things I do for you people.” It had been his constant refrain lately, yet Drake had to admit that the phrase should be singular. It’s not like he’d do this just for Maxwell or Hana, as much as he liked them.

He took off his shirt and pants and stood there for a split second in his gray boxer briefs. He thought he saw Riley’s eyes glint.

Fuck it, let’s get this over with.

He sprinted the length of the room, the cool air feeling nice throughout his whole body. He realized he hadn’t known how drunk he was until this moment, when running proved more difficult than he’d anticipated. He managed not to trip, but it was a close thing.

“Woo! Go Drake!” Riley cheered from the other side of the room.

He ran back to them and stopped.

“Satisfied?”

“Yep!” said Maxwell, “Now what?”

Riley grinned. “I’m going to join in!” 

For the love of God, NO.

She took her clothes off efficiently and yet even then, Drake couldn’t help but think how sexy her confidence was.

Fuck me, now she’s in her bra and undies. I’m gonna die. That’s it. RIP Drake Walker.

It took all of his concentration and strength not to look below her face at her amazing, perky breasts in a black bra; at her long, shapely legs; and most of all, at her ass, whose every tempting curve was hugged by her matching underwear.

“We can’t make Drake be the only one. Come on, Hana!” urged Riley.

Yes! Yes, that might make this feel more normal. More like a “friend” thing.

“Hee hee... okay! It does look fun!”

Hana took her clothes off as well. Drake barely registered her creamy underwear, although he would have to be an idiot not to see that she was a beautiful woman too.

“Let’s go!” Hana gestured for them to run.

Riley turned back, “Maxwell?”

“I’ll be the photographer.”

“Maxwell!”

“I mean, I’ll stand guard!”

The three of them took off running and immediately, Drake felt better. The other two were nothing but a blur and so he could be just a normal guy having fun with his friends, rather than a commoner pining for the prince’s fiancée-to-be.

“Wooooooooo!” squealed Riley.

“Freeeeeedom!” roared Drake.

Hana shouted, “Truth or Dare!”

They ran the length of the room twice and then collapsed next to Maxwell, out of breath and with spinning heads.

“Wow, that took a lot out of me,” mumbled Riley.

“Me too. I need to lie down.” said Hana, a hand on her head.

They returned to her room, carrying their clothes. The four friends threw themselves on Hana’s bed, resting for a moment. Drake found himself lying down next to Riley. Her head was resting on her arm and she was staring at him. She reached out and brushed his bare chest with her fingers.

He exhaled sharply and sprang off the bed. The others took this as a sign to do the same and got dressed. Riley stayed on the bed a moment longer, then put her clothes on as well. 

“I can’t believe we just did that!” Hana was flushed and her hair was wilder than Drake had ever seen it. She also looked happier than ever.

Drake ruffled her hair further. “Ah, the magic of Truth or Dare.”

“This was so much fun tonight! Thank you,” she said to them all.

Riley smiled. “Any time.”

“Yeah, you know me. I don’t need much of an excuse to party.” Maxwell did the robot. 

“And I’m... still not sure why I came this time, but I guess I’d do it again.” It had been a risk, and it had almost gotten too dangerous, but nothing happened.

“Drake, I think we’re graduating from friends to best friends!” Hana beamed.

Drake put his hands up defensively, “Whoa, whoa, whoa... Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“I dunno, man. We all drink together, goof off together, spend most of our time together...” Maxwell nudged him.

“No...”

Hana squeezed Drake’s arm. “It’s too late, Drake. We are best friends!”

“I guess I’m just going to have to accept this, huh?”

“It’s probably for the best. You could do much worse than the three of us,” said Riley.

Oh, I know. It’s you guys who should be thinking this twice.

“That’s true, isn’t it?” He sighed. “Okay. You got me.”

“Yay!” exclaimed Maxwell. 

"Yay!” echoed Hana.

Drake crossed his arms. “Please tell me this isn’t a thing we do now.”

Riley patted his arm, reassuring him. “This is not a thing.”

“Thank God. At least someone still has some sanity.”

“I’ve got your back.” She gave him one last squeeze before letting go.

Hana stifled a yawn behind her hand.

“Okay... we should probably call it a night before we break Hana...” Maxwell said, concerned. 

Hana nodded. “Good night! This has been a very memorable evening!” She waved goodbye to everyone as they prepared to leave her room.

“Good night, guys,” Drake said.

“G’night!” Riley repeated.

Once in the hallway, Maxwell went left, while Riley and Drake went the opposite way.

“So, that was fun, right?”

Drake only grunted in response, cursing nobles internally for having such big houses. He couldn’t be alone with her.

“What’s up with you? I feel like you’ve been avoiding me all day.”

“Uh, no, I haven’t.”

It wasn’t exactly convincing, but she couldn’t prove anything.

“Are you tired?”

Drake answered, “Nah,” before thinking, Shit. Why didn’t I just say yes?!

“Cool, me neither. Let’s have a drink.”

She pulled him into her room and he found that he didn’t feel like fighting her. Without asking, she poured them both whiskey and they sat down on a futon.

“Truth or Dare?” she asked softly.

“Dare.”

“Down your whiskey.”

“Come on, Addams, at least make it a challenge.” He was just bragging. His throat actually felt like it was on fire and his head hadn’t stopped spinning since the ballroom. He was extremely drunk already.

“Truth or Dare?” It was his turn to ask.

“Dare.”

“Same thing.”

She rolled her eyes at him and gulped down her drink. She managed to swallow all of it, but she had a coughing fit. He thumped her back, although he wasn’t sure that even did anything.

She stopped coughing, but he didn’t remove his hand; she didn’t seem to mind.

“Your turn.” Her voice was still hoarse from the whiskey.

“Truth.”

Fuck it. Hope this doesn’t bite me in the ass.

“Are you mad at me?”

Her voice was so small, he could barely keep himself from squeezing her. 

I can’t even blame her for thinking that. I’m such an asshole.

“No. And I’m sorry for making you think that.”

She seemed to be waiting for him to add something, but that was as far as he was willing to go, so she nodded.

“Truth.”

“Do you miss home?”

She was quiet for a long moment. Drake thought he could hear a clock ticking, but he couldn’t see one. He wondered idly what time it was. Late, but how late? He didn’t dare check his phone at that moment.

Finally, she sighed and spoke, “What is home, anyway? I don’t really have anyone, so no.”

She was leaning into him now, his hand still on her back.

“I’m sorry, if you don’t want to–”

“No, I do. It’s actually kind of a relief to be asked. I know my life is a million times better here than it ever was in New York, but sometimes it sucks that people just assume I’m happier here.”

“Aren’t you?”

“No, I am! I definitely am but...”

Drake waited again until she was ready to continue.

“Remember back in Olivia’s estate? When we went out before the storm?”

You mean the moment I knew I was falling for you, even if I was in denial? Yep.

“Sure,” he replied.

“I told you I knew what it was like to feel like you failed someone.”

“Yeah,” his voice was barely audible. He had been wondering about that but it seemed serious and he didn’t want to push her. He figured she’d tell Liam about it, rather than him.

“I... had a younger brother. Growing up we were really close, but then I left for college and we kind of drifted apart. I thought I could justify it, being a busy college student and all that but... He started having a hard time and I–I didn’t even know about it.”

She squeezed her lips together and continued, “One day I got a call at school that my little brother,” her voice wobbled, “had killed himself.”

Tears were now escaping her eyes, falling too fast and hard to roll down her cheeks. Drake realized he’d been rubbing circles on her back for the past few minutes.

She shook her head. “I didn’t even think to check up on him and I knew depression ran in the family.” She put her head in her hands and took a deep breath. “In his note he asked me to forgive him. As if it were him I needed to forgive.”

She let out a small sob, her face still hidden. A few seconds later, she wiped her tears and spoke, her voice still unsteady, “Coming here, I was just running away from my guilt. But I’m happy for the first time in years thanks to you guys, and you’ve helped me believe I do deserve it, despite everything... I haven’t completely forgiven myself, but I’m closer than I’d ever been.”

She gave him a watery smile. “So thanks, for everything.” She squeezed his hand.

He could not believe she was smiling. The horror, the trauma of losing a loved one in such a way and yet she still found something to be grateful for. He felt his own throat closing up, overwhelmed with affection and admiration. Unable to speak, he squeezed her hand back.

They stayed that way for a few minutes, with her head on his shoulder and his hand stroking her back. 

She sniffed and stood up, walking to the mirror. “God, I’m a mess!”

Drake went to stand behind her. “I think a pink nose suits you.” 

She giggled. “And to think I might have met Liam looking like this!” 

Drake’s smile died on his lips. Right. Liam.

“Listen, if you’re feeling okay I should leave you to it.”

“Oh, um, yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it felt good to tell someone.”

So she hadn’t told anyone? Not even Liam?

He entertained that thought for a second and then shook himself.

It doesn’t matter. You can be her confidant; she’ll still marry Liam. And that’s okay. Having her in your life is enough, but you need to forget about anything romantic happening between you. She deserves no less than a fucking kingdom.

“You should go meet Liam. I bet you can still make it.”

“You... think I should?” Her expression was unreadable.

“Yeah.” So was his.

His feet carried him to the bar, where he ordered shot after shot. He lost count. His bed was only a few feet away, so he could get as drunk as he wanted. As drunk as it would take to forget about Riley for a second. To forget about her bravery and resilience, her vulnerability, her warmth. 

We can be friends. We have to be friends, I can’t lose her. I just have to find somebody else.

As if planned, Kiara plopped down on the stool next to him. He couldn’t really focus her properly, but he still knew she looked beautiful as ever.

“Drake! I haven’t seen you all night!” Her speech was not as proper as usual, maybe even a bit slurred, but Drake was in no condition to notice.

“Theeeerrre you are, mylittlecroissant.” He had no idea he was barely intelligible at this point. Kiara didn’t seem to mind, anyway. “Voulez-vous choucher avec moi?”

“I thought you’d never ask!”

They finished their drinks and Kiara moved to his lap. He didn’t see the bartender leave, but he must have. Drake crashed his lips clumsily onto hers, their teeth accidentally clashing. She responded enthusiastically, her tongue entering his mouth. They made out sloppily, his hands roaming her body.

She pulled him closer by his shirt and let her hands stroke his chest, going lower and lower. She brushed his inner thigh and he felt his cock stir in his pants.

He jumped up from his seat, making her fall to the floor.

“Oh! Sorry, sorry, sorry!” He apologized over and over again as he helped her up.

“Kiara, yeeer great, ya know? Like, s-superrr cool an’ev’rything but I can’t. I juss can’t.”

He left her standing there and stumbled back to his room as fast as his condition allowed him. 

As soon as he was through the threshold, he slammed the door and leaned against it, breathing heavily. His hand trembling with need, he undid his zipper, pulled out his cock and took himself in his hand. 

He started out slowly, just savoring the feeling. Then, without meaning to, he let himself imagine what a smaller, softer hand would feel like. His hand moved faster. Unbidden, an image of Riley in her black underwear and matching bra came to him and he was powerless to stop it. His hand moving at a feverish pace, he had to clench his jaw to stop himself from crying out.

Still, he couldn’t help groaning, “Addams!” through clenched teeth as he spilled all over his hand.

Steadying his breath, he cleaned himself up and staggered to bed, already knowing his future self was going to regret so much of what happened that night.

I’m so fucked.

[magpiewords]

Pair (of socks)

Oh gosh I looked at the comments @hanukkahprompts​ put in the tags of their reblog of my work and I was so flattered! I can’t believe I hadn’t written Rhodey in yet, so here’s this chapter! Featuring Star Wars as a gift because guess what I saw tonight!

Also, the next few installments of this series may be delayed over the weekend since I’m going out of town (Vegas party woowoo!) but will definitely continue as soon as I can.

Once the candles burned out and the latkes were eaten on the first night, Tony made his way back to the workshop. He didn’t surface at all the following day, so it was Bruce who welcomed the guest that arrived just before sundown.

“Col. Rhodes,” The physicist grinned, “Need help with those?”

“No, no, I got it. You guys still doing the tree thing or can I just put these on the dining room table?” Rhodey said around the literal mountain of presents he was carrying. Bruce guided him towards the table, letting the packages slide out in an array of colorful paper.

“Doctor Banner,” With his arms free, Rhodey was able to give Bruce a proper welcome. The shorter man tried not to sink into the hug too much, but like Tony, Rhodes had never show one ounce of hesitation around him. He’d deny it, call them both foolish, but that small kindness meant the world to Bruce.

“Tony’s in the lab. I don’t think any of us were expecting you so soon for the holidays.”

“I wasn’t expecting it either.” Rhodey made his way into the kitchen. He had intended to get coffee, but the egg nog was just too tempting. Cup in hand, he turned back to Brue, but smiled at something behind him. “Someone must have called in a favor with my commanding officers.”

“Guilty.” Steve said, not looking so at all when Bruce turned to see him. “Who are all these for?”

“Well, I always get Tones eight days of gifts, but I didn’t realize we were all on the same team when it came to celebrating, so everyone else only has one. Consider the remaining days to be gifted with my presence.” He did a flourishing bow and Bruce laughed. As if anyone could ever doubt why Tony and Rhodey were as thick as thieves.

“We’re just happy to have you with us, Colonel.” Steve pulled the War Machine pilot into a hug as Clint tumbled out of the air vents.

“I see something with my name on it! Can we open ‘em now?”

“Candles first, Clint.” Steve said, “Could someone grab Tony?”

An elevator chime and a string of curses announced that fetching their resident billionaire would not longer be necessary. Tony was carrying a pile of wrapped items nearly as tall as Rhodey’s had been, letting them tumble onto the couch instead. “Okay, I got most of them done, so I think – “

Whatever he was about to say was lost at the sight of Rhodey standing in the kitchen. For a second, it was just staring at each other. Then, the half empty mug of egg nog made a soft noise as it was placed on the counter and Tony was breaking into a sprint. He jumped, letting his other half catch him.

“You’re home!”

Rhodey held Tony in a tight hug like the other man weighted nothing. “Hey T.” His words were muffled, buried in Tony’s hair. They stayed like that for a long while, enough for the rest of the team to gather in the common area. The sun set and the candles were placed, though not yet lit. Eventually, Rhodes had to put him down. With Tony’s feet back on the ground, Natasha reached for the lighter.

“I don’t think we’ve had Hanukkah together since MIT…” Tony said softly as the lights flickered in the busy kitchen.

“You can thank Captain Spangles over there for this gift then.”

Tony beamed at Steve, who started to sputter something about it ‘not being a big deal’ and ‘it’s the holiday season’. But Tony wasn’t hearing it. “If that’s the case, Steve can open my gift to him first.”

How Tony had known Steve had run out of charcoals, the solider couldn’t be sure. How he’d figured out the perfect chemical balance to make vibrant colors and super-serum proof density was less surprising. Regardless of the how, Steve was overwhelmingly grateful and quickly flushing as scarlet as the ‘blood orange’ dye Tony had used.

“I’m next!” Clint shouted. He made a dash for the package on the table, but Rhodey was faster, tossing the present out of range to Natasha. Clint stopped short, rather than trying to combat Natasha. He stuck out his tongue at Rhodes and dove for something on the couch.

“Well, wait, I didn’t exactly get to finish what I wanted to make for you yet so these are-“ Tony started, drowned out over the sound of paper ripping.

“These are perfect! I love them!” The archer held up a set of socks, each pair a different color featuring the same pattern of tiny arrows. He was already shedding the socks he wore in favor of putting on the new ones.

Rhodey tossed another present, but this one landed in Tony’s lap. “What do you buy for a billionaire?” Bruce asked as Tony tore at the wrapping paper. The colonel didn’t answer, just smiled as he watched Tony.

Tony only looked at the gift for a second before twisting around to look at Rhodey. “You didn’t!” He held up the dvd, featuring the latest Star Wars movie that had only just been released in theatres. “This shouldn’t exist yet!”

“Figured you’d been too busy to go see it. Knew being nice with all the crazies we met when you lived in Malibu would pay off.”

“We’re watching it right now.”

“Tony no,” Bruce started.

“Come on, a tiny rebel army fighting off invading empires? It’s practically the story of Hanukkah, but with light sabers! Rhodey-bear, sit next to me.”

Bruce looked to Rhodes, because if anyone could wrangle Tony in, it was him. But the other man only shrugged, taking his place next to Tony on the couch. “Dr. Banner, if you’re that eager to get your socks, you can just ask Tony which gift is yours.”

“I didn’t get him socks for tonight!” Tony protested as he handed the disc to Bucky to put in the player. He was pretty sure they hadn’t used that machine in years, not since he and Jarvis could find almost anything online. Anything but a new release Star Wars movie. Bruce sighed, curling up to sit on Tony’s other side. If everyone wanted to watch it, he wasn’t going to complain.

“I made him stretchy socks,” Tony continued as the movie started, “and he’s getting them tomorrow.”

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