#@maxwell peacocks

[angelasscribbles]

The De Facto Queen Chapter 4: Are We Okay?

Series: The De Facto Queen

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Drake, Riley x Liam

Rating: MA concepts

Warnings for this chapter: Language

Word Count: 4,483

A/N: Special shout out to @karahalloway for reading over part of the polo match and reminding me that English saddles have pommels, not saddle horns!

My other stuff: Master List.

The two teams faced each other on the field. Drake, Maxwell, Neville, and Rashad on one side; Liam, Hana, and Penelope on the other. Riley was late as she finally shook herself out of her stupor and trotted onto the field. Murmurs of approval rippled through the crowd as she took her place next to Liam.

“Looks like you’re turning some heads!” Hana smiled at her.

“Yeah. She does that,” Drake’s voice was low and quiet, his eyes flicking back and forth from Riley to Liam.

Riley opened her mouth to speak but before she had the chance, Rashad noted, “Nice day for a game.”

“Quiet,” Neville leaned forward on his mount to look around Rashad at Drake, “Though I could think of nicer company.”

“Save it, Vancoeur,” Drake snapped, his eyes still locked on Liam, “We have a game to win.”

Liam was oblivious to his best friend’s attention, as his was on the woman at his side. A soft smile played on his lips as he stared at her in open admiration.

As the announcements finished, the umpire stepped forward and held up a hand to quiet the crowd. The horses whinnied and stamped in anticipation. Hana joined Liam in turning her head to give Riley a wide-open grin, but Riley’s attention was focused on Drake, dread pooling in the pit of her stomach as she took in the stormy expression on his face.

Shit! Why had she told him ten seconds before the polo match? What the hell was wrong with her? There was no time to think about it now, the game was starting!

The ball rolled into play and the horses lurched into action. Riley pushed her personal life out of her mind as adrenaline dumped into her bloodstream and hoofbeats thundered down the pitch. Hana made it to the ball first and sent it spinning down the field with a practiced swing. Riley thought she had it, but Rashad swept the ball out from under her only to be nearly mowed down by Penelope as she knocked the ball away from him.

Riley and Max both rode hell-bent for leather after it. She had to distract him somehow, but how? “Is that a peacock on the field?”

“What? No, it’ll get trampled!” Max pulled his attention away from the game to quickly scan the playing field.

It was enough of a distraction for Riley to knock the ball away and send it flying through the goalposts. The crowd erupted into shouts and applause. Phrases like “Well struck!” and “Good play!” rang out as the players rode back to the center of the field.

Riley brought her horse up alongside Drake’s, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he slid a quick sidelong glance at her but didn’t meet her eyes, “I told you, we’ll talk later.” Then he tapped his mount with his heels and sped up, trotting away from her.

The second time the ball was tossed up, Maxwell was on it, knocking it down the field to Neville.

“Neville, over here,” Drake yelled, “I’m wide open!”

“I’ve got it!” Neville snarled as he swung his horse around, but the king was on top of him before he could strike the ball.

“Do you, Lord Neville?” Liam laughed as pulled alongside him and started to nudge him away from the ball.

“Neville, damn it, pass me the ball!” Drake yelled again, spurring his horse into action.

“I said I’ve got it!” Neville leaned over and out, nearly losing his balance as Liam’s horse bumped against his.

“Goddamn it, Neville!” Drake roared as he galloped his horse across the field, reaching them just as Liam was in position to send the ball back toward his team’s goal.

Drake didn’t slow down as he barreled down on them and forced his way between the other two riders. He turned into Liam, the back of his horse colliding with Neville’s, sending Lord Vancoeur tumbling into the dirt. Drake yanked the reins and leaned into Liam, slamming into him as horseflesh crashed into horseflesh. Liam was unseated by the intensity of the blow, he scrabbled at the pommel, unable to make purchase, as he slid sidewise out of the saddle.

Righting his horse, Drake smashed his mallet into the ball, sending it careening down the pitch and into their goal as the whistle blew and the clock stopped. “What the fuck?” Drake bellowed as the ump called foul.

“You knocked two men out of the saddle and one of them was your own teammate!” the umpire pointed at him as he yelled.

“It was a ride off!”

“It was a foul! That was more than a forty-five-degree angle!”

Liam’s teammates trotted over to where he was picking himself up off the ground as Drake argued with the umpire. Riley dismounted and hurried over to him.

Max brought his pony alongside Drake’s and quietly said, “Hey man. I don’t know what’s going on with you right now, but the entire country is watching.”

“Shit!” Drake swore soundly under his breath as some semblance of reason settled over him. “Whatever fine, it’s a foul. Sorry.” He dismounted and walked over to offer his hand to Liam. The crowd roared its approval at the show of sportsmanship. Without looking at Riley, he muttered a halfhearted apology to his best friend.

“What the hell’s gotten into you?” Liam asked in bewilderment.

“Nothing,” Drake shrugged, “It was our ball. Maybe next time stay in your own fucking lane and don’t try taking things that aren’t yours.” He spun and stalked back to his mount.

Liam froze and then slowly turned toward Riley. Lowering his voice so no one else could hear, he hissed, “You told him, didn’t you?”

Riley sighed as she nodded, “Yeah.”

“Right before the game?” he asked incredulously.

“He knew something was wrong and he wouldn’t stop pushing until I told him! He thought I was going to break up with him. I couldn’t let him keep thinking that!” Of course, now she was worried he was going to break up with her but that was a worry that would have to wait. Right now, all of Cordonia was watching so she blinked back her tears, straightened her shoulders, and climbed back into the saddle.

Liam dusted himself off before remounting. His eyes went immediately to Riley because they always did whenever they were in close proximity to each other. He couldn’t help it. Seeking her out in any crowd, at least visually, was a habit that had started the night of the Masquerade Ball, one that he had never been able to break, even after the advent of her betrothal to another.

Her betrothed. His eyes pulled reluctantly away from her and traveled across the pitch to find Drake’s eyes boring into him.

Liam shook his head and the match resumed. The horses raced up and down the field as the game progressed. He came face to face with Drake again near the end of the fourth chukka.

He was ready this time.

“Hey, I had that!” Drake objected as Liam swept the ball out from under him and sent it skittering downfield to Riley.

“Your backhand’s always been a little slow,” Liam smirked, “Maybe if you were faster, other people wouldn’t get to the ball first!”

“Seriously, man?” Drake’s mouth fell open but then a smug smile tugged the corners of his mouth up, “Getting to it first and keeping it are two different things though, aren’t they?”

“I…that…” Liam sputtered as Drake spun his horse and took off down the field.

The rest of the game proceeded without incident and before long, they were tied and facing off for the final point.

“Max get ready!” Drake yelled as he positioned himself to smack the ball downfield, but he was distracted by the sight of Liam bringing his horse alongside Riley’s. He only hesitated a fraction of a second as his eyes flicked over to them, but it was long enough for Hana to swoop in and send the ball skittering away from him.

“Shit!” He yelled as he watched Penelope easily outmaneuver Neville, passing the ball to Riley.

Riley tossed her mallet into the air, then caught it, with the windmill motion Hana had taught her. Swinging her mallet, she drove the ball home for the win.

“Wow, that was awesome!” Max chortled.

“You know you’re on my team, not hers, right?” Drake groused.

“Yeah, no, I know. I’m just saying…”

The crowd went wild, jumping to their feet, waving flags, stomping their feet, and chanting Riley’s name.

“Well done everyone!” Liam cried, lifting his mallet into the air and waving to the crowd.

While the crowd lost their minds cheering for their king and the rest of the team celebrated, Riley’s eyes searched the field for Drake.

When she found him, they made direct eye contact for several long moments, but he didn’t smile. He turned his horse and trotted for the fences.

Her heart sank.

She wanted to go after him but was pulled into a series of congratulations from officials, the press, and the members of the court. She sat beside Liam, trying to keep her mount still, pasted on a smile, and gave an interview, gushing about how much fun polo was and how beautiful she found Portavira. 

When she was finally able to disentangle herself, she found Drake waiting for her at the edge of the field, helmet off, hair wet with sweat, “Hey,” he greeted her with a half-smile.

“Hey,” she replied as she dismounted.

“Sorry for all…that,” he gestured weakly toward the field, “I…um…” he shook his head, “I’m just sorry, okay?”

She handed off the reigns to one of the grooms and stepped closer to him, “Was that really necessary?”

“No, it was not,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Now that the initial shock and surge of anger had worn off, he was ashamed of his actions. “You did great out there, by the way.”

“Thanks,” she wanted to be mad at him for knocking Liam off his horse, but she just couldn’t.

“Can we go somewhere and talk now?”

“Yes, please,” she agreed, “Showers first?”

“Probably a good idea. Pretty sure I stink.”

She slipped her hand in his, “Let’s hurry before someone-“

Landon and Emmeline caught them before they could make their getaway.

“Duchess Riley…Drake,” Emmeline called as she hurried over to them, Landon and Penelope in tow, “you put on quite a show out there for us!”

“We did what we could,” Drake smiled politely.

“Don’t be modest!” Emmeline chided, “I haven’t seen a game like that since Landon hung up his mallet!”

“You flatter me, Dear. Even in my heyday, I had nothing on Riley here!”

“She did great!” Penelope agreed.

“I’m just happy we were able to help with the relief efforts,” Riley pasted on her diplomatic smile and squeezed Drake’s hand in apology.

He squeezed back letting her know it was okay. He understood the need for politicking. He hated it. But he understood the need.

“I’ve received the projected total of donations from today,” Emmeline told her, “And it’ll be enough to shore up our relief funds!”

“That’s fantastic!” Riley’s enthusiasm was genuine. She was ecstatic to help those affected by the flooding.

“We can’t tell you how much of a difference this will make for Portavira,” Landon said.

“And it wouldn’t have been possible without you, Riley,” Emmeline gushed, “in fact, I’m rather optimistic about our ability to help you.”

“Would you give us a moment, please?” Landon asked as he pulled his wife and daughter aside.

“Of course,” Riley chirped.

As the Ebrims conferred amongst themselves, Drake moved closer to his fiancée, readjusting their hands and lacing his fingers through hers, “The moment of truth, huh?”

“Yeah,” trepidation pulled through her as she glanced up at his face. Was there even still going to be a wedding for the nobility to attend? “Drake-“

Before she could ask the question, the Ebrims returned. Emmeline was brisk and to the point, “We talked it over and-“

“We’d like to officially offer our support to the crown and our attendance at your wedding,” Landon finished.

“That’s great!” Riley forced a smile, “Thank you. I can’t wait to see you there!”

After a few more minutes of small talk, Drake and Riley extracted themselves from the conversation but everywhere they turned there were nobles who wanted a word with the country’s most famous duchess.

“Do something,” Riley whispered.

“On it!” Drake swiftly typed into his phone and then pulled her around a corner and behind the stables, “No one will be looking for us here.”

“But how are we going to make it from here to the showers then back to our car?”

“We’re not,” he grinned at her.

“Then how-“

“Just wait,” he told her as he glanced around the corner, “it pays to have friends in low places, Brooks.”

Riley deflated a little. He’d stopped calling her Brooks when they’d officially become a couple. The use of her last name had initially been a ploy to put some emotional distance between them, he’d told her that the night they’d gone to the beer garden. Was he trying to emotionally distance himself from her again?

Before she could respond, an enclosed golf cart careened around the corner of the building and came to a stop next to them. It was bright blue with the words Ocean Side Polo Club emblazoned on the side. Drake pulled the door open and ushered her into the backseat and then climbed in behind her.

“Here, as you requested,” the driver shoved two blue baseball caps into Drake’s hands. The caps bore the same words and emblem as the golf cart.

Drake tossed a hat into her lap and then put the other one on his own head, pulling it down low over his eyes.

Riley got the idea quickly, donning the cap and slumping down in the seat. “But what about our clothes?”

“Loaded into your car, Your Grace,” the driver replied.

“You just helped us escape from a polo club, you can call me Riley,” she laughed.

She was rewarded with a big smile from the older Italian gentleman driving the cart, “You haven’t escaped yet, Riley!”

She threw a glance at her fiancée. Everywhere they went he made friends with the staff. The common people loved him, and he loved them and that’s what made him perfect for the role he never wanted.

He could do a lot of good if he just got out of his own head.

Drake returned her glance with a sparkle in his eye. He answered her unasked question, “I had the car moved, we’re meeting them on the opposite side of the club outside the entrance the grooms use.”

Warmth flooded her chest at seeing him acting like his normal self. She slid her hand into his again, “You’re pretty fucking smart, Walker, you know that?”

“Oh, I know, but it is gratifying to know that you know!”

The golf cart delivered them to their car and Riley turned back to thank the driver, “What was your name, again?”

“Vincente,” he answered, “and you’re welcome Your Gr- I mean Riley.”

Goodbyes were said and they were on their way to the boat Drake had rented, “Don’t worry,” he told her, “There’s a shower onboard.”

“Ahhh!” She relaxed into the seat, “Privacy at last!”

“I like the sound of that,” he leaned across her body and brought a hand up to caress her face, “Riley…I-“

Her phone rang.

Drake dropped his hand and fell back against the seat with a frustrated sigh.

She glanced down at her screen, “It’s Liam.”

“Better answer it,” Drake turned his head to stare out the window.

Riley silenced the phone, “He can wait.”

His head turned back toward her, his eyes guarded, “What if it’s important?”

“How important can it be? He’s the king, not me. Whatever it is, can wait and if it can’t, then he can handle it! I said I would help him, Drake. I didn’t sign up to be queen. Besides, there is nothing more important to me right now than fixing us!”

Relief flitted through his eyes, “I…didn’t know you felt that way.”

“Of course, I do!”

“That’s…that’s good…” he nodded as if reassuring himself of something.

They pulled up to the beach, unloaded their bags, and made their way to the twenty-five-foot cabin cruiser docked at the end of the pier.

As they stood on board the deck, Drake looked around with a sigh, “I know it’s not a yacht but-“

“And you know I don’t care about that!”

He stopped and turned to stare into her eyes, his own gold-flecked orbs darkening to a hammered copper shade as they roamed her face, searching for answers. Finally, he nodded his head and said, “I know. Come on, I’ll show you where the shower is.”

Once they were both clean, Drake navigated the boat out into open water. He neither needed nor wanted a crew to drive it. He preferred to be hands-on.

Riley joined him in the cockpit, “Where are we going?”

“Away from shore so we don’t get interrupted again.”

“I turned my phone off,” she told him.

He gave her a sidelong glance, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I did send Liam a text letting him know I’d return his call later. Just so he wouldn’t worry…”

“It’s fine, I texted him too.”

“You did?”

“Don’t so sound surprised,” he scoffed, “I also didn’t want him to worry plus he’s technically my boss and you’re my assignment.”

“Sure. Yeah.” She nodded.

“I didn’t apologize for knocking his ass in the dirt.”

“Okay….”

“Hold on, let me drop anchor then we can talk.”  

Fifteen minutes later they were seated on the wrap-around seating gracing the deck, each turned to the side, so they were facing the other, both ignoring the beauty of the Mediterranean as they focused, instead, on one another. 

Drake reached out and took her hand in his, “First let me apologize again for my behavior out on the pitch.”

“That was my fault!” She protested, “I should never have dropped that on you seconds before the game started!”

He shook his head as he scooted closer to her, “I pushed you into it and even if it was horrible timing, nobody’s responsible for my actions but myself.”

She gave him a half-hearted smile, “So, you admit it was horrible timing?”

A short bark of laughter escaped him, “It certainly could have been better, but I had plenty of time to think while I watched you give that interview, and I realized the only moment we had alone was this morning-“

“I was going to tell you after, but we got interrupted!”

“I know.”

“I was going to tell you last night, but you were asleep when I got back to the room!”

“I know that too. You did text me on your way back from your meeting with Liam and said you had something to tell me.”

“Yes! I was going to tell you then, but-“

“But we got interrupted then too. I know.”

“I should have woken you up last night or stopped you this morning but-“

“But you didn’t know there would be an impromptu breakfast meeting. I know, Riley, it’s okay! You don’t have to convince me of your intentions. I understand that you wanted and intended to tell me right away.”

“Okay, good,” Relief rolled over her in waves as the weight on her shoulders evaporated.

It was short-lived.

He toyed with the ring on her finger as he held her hand, “Do you want to end our engagement?”

“What?” She jerked her hand out of his, “No! How can you even ask me that?”

“I’m giving you an out, Riley…”

“I don’t want an out, Drake!”

“I know you love me but-“

“But what?”

He shifted in his seat with a sigh, “I love you, Riley, with all that I have and all that I am… I would choose you a million times, I would choose you every time…but…maybe I’m not the right choice for you. Liam-“

“Stop it! Just…stop!”

He dropped his eyes to his lap with a sigh, “You were on Liam’s team today, not mine. And you looked like you belonged there.”

“I was on Cordonia’s team, Drake! It was a polo game for God’s sake!”

“I know, but-“

“Don’t do this. Please!”

“Do what?”

“Break up with me!”

His head snapped up, incredulity filling his expression, “You think I’m breaking up with you?”

“You aren’t?”

“I’m not an idiot, Riley! Well…I am an idiot but not that big of an idiot,” he said with a wry smile, “I said I was offering you an out, not that I wanted one!”

“Well, I don’t want one either,” Riley huffed as she crossed her arms defensively in front of her, “So now what?”

“That depends,” he responded slowly as his eyes ran across her face, “Why did you tell me?”

“What?”

“It was one kiss, Riley. I never had to know. So, why did you tell me?”

“Because it was the right thing to do! How can you even ask me that? Would you rather I’d kept it from you?”

He shook his head, “No. I’d rather know the truth, even when it hurts. Isn’t that what we promised each other?”

“It is!” She agreed, “Better an ugly truth than a pretty lie.”

He nodded thoughtfully, almost as if to himself, “And you upheld that. That means a lot to me.”

“Good, because-“

“You still love him.” It wasn’t a question.

Riley froze, eyes growing wide as panic burned through every synapse in her body, “I….”

“It’s okay, I knew you still loved him when you and I started,” he told her softly, “I knew you still loved him, but you were resolute in your decision to end things with him, and I believed you when you said you wanted to move on.”

“I did want to move on!” She insisted, “And I did, we did!”

“We did,” he nodded, “but you still love him, and he still loves you.”

“What makes you think-“

“I’m neither blind nor stupid, that’s what. I haven’t been missing all those longing looks he gives you, Riley. I’ve just chosen to ignore them.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “What was I going to do about it? He can’t help the fact that he still loves you and I don’t feel like I have a right to question him about his feelings on the issue all things considered.”

“Drake,” she reached out and took his hand again, “You know none of it was your fault! You and I were just friends until after my relationship with Liam ended!”

“On your end maybe, but I-“

“That doesn’t matter!” She assured him, “Whatever feelings you had before then, you never acted on. You didn’t come between me and Liam; he did that all on his own, and he knows it.”

“Still,” he blew out a frustrated breath, “I can’t help wondering if he thinks I was just waiting for an opportunity….exploiting your pain and vulnerability-“

“Hey,” She placed a hand on either side of his face and turned his head until he was looking into her eyes, “Is that what you believe?”

He stared back at her, his expression completely defenseless and exposed as he whispered, “Maybe….”

She shook her head vehemently from side to side, “No, Drake. You didn’t! I’m a grown woman perfectly capable of making my own decisions! We fell in love! I love you!”

“But you still love him, Riley. I just…I don’t want to stand in your way. You’re amazing at the ruling thing. You would make a good queen. Liam needs you; he loves you, and he would take you back in a heartbeat-“

“Goddamn it, Drake!” Riley pushed away from him, sprung to her feet, and stalked away from him, “Do you not want to be with me?”

“Of course, I want to be with you!” He jumped up and hurried after her. Grabbing her by the shoulder, he spun her around and gathered her in his arms, “I…I just want to be sure you want to be with me! I don’t ever want you to regret your choice!”

“I will never regret choosing you!” Her hands dug into his shirt, twisting the fabric in her fists and pulling him closer, “Can we please just find our way through this?”

“If that’s what you really want, then yes but-“

“No buts!”

“Yes, there’s a but and you need to hear it…”

“Fine, what is it?”

“I need you to know that we can find our way through this even if you don’t want to marry me, okay? I love you,” he cupped her face between his hands, “and I will always be here for you, even if that means we’re just friends.”

Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks, “Drake, why would you-“

He pulled her flush against his body, and hugged her tightly, “Because I love you, and that means I want what’s best for you. So even though I will always want you, I will never abandon you, even if you decide to break our engagement and marry my best friend.”

“I want to marry you, Drake!” She sobbed against his chest.

“Okay, good,” he tightened his arms around her, “Because I really want to marry you too!”

“Oh, thank God!” She laughed through her tears.

“Now that that’s settled….”

“How the hell did you end up comforting me when I’m the one that-“

“Shhhh, hush, stop!” He admonished, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Riley. You had a moment where you gave into something initiated by someone you still love and have mixed feelings about. I’d say that makes you human.”

“See?” She hiccupped a little as she pushed back so she could look up into his face, “This? This kind of shit right here is why I love you so damn much!”

“Glad to hear it! And just to be clear, I will never be the one breaking up with you, okay?”

“Then you’re stuck with me forever because I am not breaking up with you!” She said forcefully, “So are we okay?”

“We’re fine,” he assured her, “Now, are you ready to do some fishing or what?”

She nodded happily and followed him to the fishing gear determined to relax and enjoy spending time with her fiancée, whom she was definitely going to marry and most probably going to drag below deck to the master suite before the end of the night while trying not to dwell on the fact that all the unresolved tension between her and Liam was still very much alive.

But that was a problem for another day.

[karahalloway]

One Night in Cordonia Chapter 5: Bad Moon Rising

Series: One Night in Cordonia, a @choicesprompts Round Robin event.

Fandom: TRR so far, but others could be added in

Pairings: Various

Word count: 1,700

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Swearing, sexual thoughts, unwanted sexual advances, unwanted sexual scenes, smidge of violence

A/N: So... I got hit with a random idea... and I rolled with it 🤣 Apologies in advance! Also, as you will see, I have assumed that Leo is still the Crown Prince at this point - though that doesn't stop Riley from being one of the suitors still.

Next author: @twinkleallnight

The crown prince of Cordonia stood near the chocolate fountain nervously adjusting his tie.

The object of his affection was within his sight yet he was still hesitant to make his move.

He wasn't sure why he was so nervous, other than a crippling fear of rejection. Which seemed preposterous given his position in the social order.

But then, he had gone and fallen for someone who didn't care about any of that.

Leo exhaled ruefully.

He knew he should just bite the bullet and go over to where she was standing, laughing heartily at something someone had just said. Steer her away. Start some semblance of a conversation. Turn on his trademark Rys charm. Woo the literal knickers off her.

It had worked with all the women who had come before...

...but he wasn't sure it would work on her.

Because he'd never been in this situation before. Where he'd felt uncertain. Unsure of himself. Out of his depth...

...where he'd been attracted to an older woman.

Because that's who she was — a woman several years his senior. Who could very well have been his mother. Who was someone's mother.

A mother I'd like to fuck, he thought to himself, taking a long gulp of his scotch.

But he knew he was on the back foot. Not only because he'd never tried to seduce a sugar mama before — hence the reason for his attraction, which was the salacious draw of the forbidden, something he had yet to tick off his sex bucket list before his wedding night — but also because he knew that her attentions had already been claimed.

By Maxwell fucking Beaumont.

Leo scowled angrily.

Because honestly! What did that guy have that Leo didn't? Apart from the svelte physique of a dancer and way too many pokey objects stashed around his house?

Was it because he was younger? More innocent? (Leo wasn't actually sure whether Max had ever done the dirty with anyone... all the guy ever talked about was peacocks.) Or was it simply the fact that unlike Leo, Max was a nobody in the big scheme of things? Someone she didn't have to worry about causing a scandal with...? At least not as much of a scandal as she could've cause with a Crown Prince... Who was due to be engaged shortly... Most likely to her own daughter.

Because that's who Adelaide Amaranth was — his future mother-in-law. Assuming his father's machinations went to plan. Which they usually did...

Leo was so caught up in his musings that at first he didn't notice the questionable-looking smoke slithering its way through the various air vents that dotted the ballroom.

And even then, it wasn't the smoke he noticed, per se. After all, this was the Beaumont Bash. Literally anything that could happen, has happened. So, the sight of pink glitter infused smog that smelled like the aftermath of a Victoria's Secret perfume factory explosion wasn't exactly panic-worthy.

If anything, it helped set the mood for what he was going to do next. Which was quashing down whatever pansy-ass anxiety he was feeling and marching over to that sexy, curvaceous goddess of a woman and begging her to spank him.

Because hopefully that way, he could finally get those smutty thoughts out of his head and move on with his life.

Draining the rest of his scotch, he was about to take a step forward when a high pitched scream rent the air, and the entirety of the ballroom seemed to move as one.

Champagne flutes crashed to the floor, bodies barreled together, and the staccato of stampeding heels echoed through the room as mass panic erupted amongst the guest.

"What the—?"

He was nearly knocked over as the human tidalwave swept over him.

Knowing that resistance was futile, and that unless he did something, he was going to get crushed, he did the only concievable thing... and let himself be carried by the mass of humanity out of the House.

After a few quesy twists and turns through the various corridors, the crowd disgorged itself onto the front lawn of the estate, dumping Leo into the expertly manicured topiary that ringed the entrance steps.

"Well, that was... different," he mused, brushing the wayward leaves and twigs off his jacket.

He was about to step back over the hedge when he found his path blocked by a swaying figure.

"Mmm... Leo..." she purred, eyeing him up and down like a piece of meat. "Don't you look... fine this evening...?"

"Not now, Kiara," grumbled Leo, manouvering around her.

"But, baby..." she pouted, grabbing onto his arm to spin him back around. "Ne voulez-vous pas coucher avec moi...?"

"What? No!" he scoffed, trying to disentangle himself from the surprisingly strong grip she had on him.

"But I want to..." she declared, running her tongue up his neck.

Leo gasped as she grabbed his crown jewels through his tuxedo slacks, sinking her French-manicured nails against the delicate flesh.

"...and I'm not taking 'no' for an answer," she added, biting his earlobe... hard.

Leo gulped.

While he normally didn't mind a woman taking control when it came to bedroom activities, he was very much less enthusiastic about the idea when (i) those activities were apparently going to take place on the front steps of the House of one of his friends, in full view of all his future subjects, and (ii) he was not actually interested in the woman in question. Chiefly because he'd already been there, tapped that, got the scratches on his back to prove it. And he very rarely went back for seconds.

"Look, Ki," he gritted under his breath, laying a hand on her wrist to disengage the lock she had on his junk, "what we had was fun, but—"

"No buts," she admonished, smacking him on the ass, making him flinch. "Unless it's that sexy derrière of yours strutting—"

That's when Leo noticed that something was not quite right. For when he looked into Kiara's eyes, instead of her normally lush, almond-coloured irises, he saw what seemed to be a neon pink glow ringing her pupils... like something out of a bad supernatural TV show. Except he knew that this was no fantasy.

"Erm... Ki?" he asked hesitantly. "Are you... okay?"

If this was the start of the zombie apocalypse, he was definitely not ready to be eaten yet. Least of all by Kiara.

"Oh, I am perfect, mon amour," she hummed, tightening her grip on his marbles as she barred her teeth. "And I am about to be even—"

"No, you're not!" cried Leo, twisting around to smack the edge of his palm into Kiara's thorax, causing her to choke in surprise...

...and release the death-grip she'd had on his balls.

Taking advantage of the opening, he lifted a knee and aimed a Chuck Norris kick straight into Kiara's abdomen.

His sexual-assailant-cum-possible-zombie-in-waiting sailed into the hedge, disappearing from sight.

Dusting his hands off, Leo was about to resume his course when he noticed the literal orgy that was taking place around him.

Normally stuck-up nobles had shed their expensive threads and were doing it on the driveway like animals on the Discovery Channel, irrespective of sex, age, or social standing. Earls were shagging maids, duchesses were banging acrobats, and one person looked like they were trying to get it on with a horse.

"What the fuck...?" breathed Leo in disbelief, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Because it defied all reason...

...especially when he caught sight of Bert — his childhood friend, Bertrand Archibald Beaumont, who was as straight-laced as they came and who was going to be his best man — sucking down on Drake Walker's dick like a champion hooker. And he was enjoying it.

"Christ, I'm never gonna unsee that!" he cringed, trying to avert his eyes, but everywhere he looked, it was just one giant porno set.

Though at least he wasn't trapped on ground zero for an impending zombie apocalypse.

Sorry, Kiara!

But that didn't solve his immediate problem. Which was figuring out what the hell was going on, and why he hadn't turned into the same kind of mindless nympho that everyone else seemed to have devolved into.

Max. He needed to find Max.

If there was one person who was going to be able to give him answers, it was that dick-weed of a Beaumont. He was always the one pulling surprise stunts at the Bash — invariably to Bert's shock and horror — and chances were good that this weird smut smog had been his idea.

Stepping over writhing and moaning bodies, careful to not inadvertently get himself dragged into a three- or foursome with some crusty aristos that he'd never wanted to picture naked (let alone rogering someone up the arse), he re-entered the House and set about tracking down his host...

...and nearly tripped over his future wife screwing the bejesus out of Riley's press secretary on the grand staircase.

"Oookay, then...!" Leo exclaimed, trying to sidestep the raunchy spectable, only to nearly crash into Olivia as she came hurtling down the stairs.

"Whoa, steady on, Livy!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands onto her shoulders to steady her.

"Leo!" she exclaimed, eyes widening in surprise before shuttering provocatively as she bit down on her lower lip. "I mean... Le-oh!"

"Christ, not you too," groaned Leo as Olivia raked her blood-red nails down his chest.

"Wait," she gasped, shaking her head aggressively... as if trying to rejig her senses. "What did you just say?"

"Nothing. I just—"

"Max!" she cried, spinning around. "He's not affected either!"

Looking past Olivia, Leo spotted a perfectly normal-looking Max jogging down the steps — clothes fully on and no weird pink eyes in sight.

"Either?” he growled, shoving Liv out of the way and reaching out to grab the Beaumont by the front of his shirt. "What the fuck did you do, Max!”

"Me? Nothing! I was just—"

"Don't take the piss, Max," Leo warned. "There's about a hundred people back there going at it like the world is ending, including your brother, who's—"

"I don't want to know!" shrieked Maxwell, sticking his index fingers into his ears.

"Well, you should've thought of that before you released whatever the hell is causing everyone t—"

"It wasn't him," interjected Olivia.

"What?"

"It wasn't him," she repeated, running her hands seductively over her breasts before she apparently thought better of it. "This is an attack. Someone—"

"Tell me everything you know," Leo declared.

Permatags

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One Night in Cordinia only

@squid-princess-teach-swallow @jerzwriter @fearyrain @alj4890

[maxwell-beaumont-appreciation]

This blog is dedicated to Maxwell Beaumont from Choices: The Royal Romance.

2023 Events:

Maxwell Appreciation Week kicked off on Maxwell Appreciation Day Monday 01/23/23 and ran through Sunday 01/29/2023. We are so happy with the turn out, thanks to all who participated! DONE

Maxwell’s Birthday Extravaganza we have set his birthday as March 20th based on the premium scene in TRR book 2, chapter 12 where he says he could be either a Pieces or an Aries. Click link for details. DONE

We also want to promote Max content all year long- all of it! Artwork, mood boards, and stories that feature him. Pretty much anything featuring our favorite breakdancing, champagne-sabering, peacock-loving Beaumont!

We know that Max stans are a minority in the fandom and we want this page to serve as a clearing house to direct readers to all things Maxwell Beaumont!

Max Creators (Coming Soon!)

Max's Birthday 2023 Master List

MBAW 2023 Master List

Readers are encouraged to interact, make suggestions, give recommendations, and tag us in any Max content they feel should be featured.

Writers are encouraged to tag us in any work that is focused and centered around Max. We will reblog it and add you to a master list of writers that produce Max content.

Nothing is off-limits! In the words of Maxwell Beaumont - "I'm always down for....pretty much anything!"

If you have questions or suggestions please reach out to this blog, @angelasscribbles​ or @harleybeaumont​ 

Other TRR appreciation blogs: @kingliamappreciationweek @hanaleeappreciationweek @kiaratheronappreciationweek @drake-walker-appreciation

[ilyasorokinn]

the hughes gang series

these pieces aren't published in any particular order, meaning they can be read in any order. they also aren't published in chronological order. feel free to ask questions if you're confused.

quinn and y/n hughes, and their life with their two kids, maxwell “max” hughes and charlotte hughes. and their dog benny hughes.

imagines,

✷ the fairest apple of them all - the hughes family goes apple picking, in search of the perfect apple in the orchard. and of course, the rest of the family comes along. (part of “taylor’s halloween series”)

✷ lit up like a kid on christmas - all the hughes come home for christmas, and christmas with the hughes family is always a blast. (part of “taylor’s very merry christmas” series)

blurbs,

✷ peacocks and lions - after spending a couple of days with grandma and grandpa, charlotte and max get stuffed animals.

✷ skating lessons - charlotte hughes is nervous to skate for the first time, but luckily, her dad is there to catch her when she falls.

✷ let loose - in y/n's eyes, quinn would be winning every award for dads out there. after hearing about a party, at first, quinn has no plans on going, but after some persuasion from y/n (and josh) he finally agrees to let loose.

[ taglist ] [ au masterlist/guide ]

[dcbbw]

Praise the Lord (#MBAW)

 This story is my late af submission for #Maxwell Beaumont Appreciation Week. If I’ve done this correctly, it covers many of the topics and themes presented to honor everyone’s favorite Beaumont. You’ll hear from the love interests I’ve paired him with; an ex; family; friends; and possibly the Man of the Hour himself; all will share their thoughts, ideas, and perspectives on who Maxwell Beaumont is and what makes him tick.

I borrowed @choicesflashfics’ Week #17 prompt #3: “You can disagree all you want, but that doesn’t make me any less right.” It will appear in bold.

THANK YOU to those who read over snippets of this endeavor; it truly is a labor of love and took a village. Special mention to @ao719 for her suggestions and insight.  THANK YOU to all who will read this; your likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated more than you realize.

Please excuse any and all typos, missing/extraneous words, and/or grammatical errors. MS Editor rates this story as 98% error free.

Going with T for TEEN for the rating

Not really pairings, just some Maxwell appreciation

No triggers or warnings

All characters belong to Pixelberry

Song Inspo: Norman Fucking Rockwell, Lana Del Rey

Word Count: 5,085

Duchess Riley Brooks Beaumont (Acquittal AU)

The Duchess of Valtoria enters the room slightly crouched, looking  down at her daughter Annabelle; a wide, pleased smile splits her lips as she watches her child toddle without stumbling or falling.

“I did it!” Annabelle crows proudly.

“Yes, you did, my darling,” her mother agrees.

It’s been six months since her husband’s acquittal on charges of treasonous acts against the Crown. The worry lines that had creased her brow are gone; the wariness in her eyes has faded. But she holds her daughter’s hand a little too tightly; she checks the door alarm, and her glance falls too often to the security monitors that have been installed throughout her Great House.

She reluctantly lets go of Annabelle’s hand to allow the child to roam freely throughout the room; the baby runs to play with a stuffed toy collection. It’s a sizable one, taking up nearly a quarter of the area and filled with sea creatures, farm animals, plush dolls, dinosaurs, peacocks, and a life-size, glitter-covered Peppa Pig.

“Her father bought her those,” the Duchess says softly in explanation. “Every piece.” Her eyes cloud over with emotion. “He loves her beyond measure. Belle is an answered prayer for both of us.”

She sits, tossing one shapely leg over the other. “I know no one anticipated Maxwell and I to marry; hell, I don’t think Maxwell and I expected it!” She laughs, a genuine one that tilts her head back. “Our relationship is something neither of us saw coming, which may be the reason it’s so special.”

“Mama, turn around,” Annabelle demands, and her mother looks over to see her daughter making a sequined squid and a bright green peacock dance.

The Duchess claps enthusiastically at the performance before resuming the conversation.

“People ask what I see in him, what he has that a literal King doesn’t. I don’t answer because my choice of a life partner is not and will never be dictated by public opinion or pressure. But in addition to our friendship, Maxwell is a helper. Liam defends me, which is nice and frankly the least he could do since it was his father and head guard behind the scandal.

“Drake could be considered a protector, but his arrival at my door that night in Applewood was sheer luck. But in the midst of the scandal … it was Maxwell. He helped me chase down the reporter, he helped find Tariq. Yes, it was at Liam’s directive, but Maxwell would’ve found a way to help regardless. It’s what he does. Sometimes not well, but that’s neither here nor there.

“During the social season, it was Maxwell who helped me navigate Court. Maxwell was the one who helped clean House Beaumont when the workers didn’t show up, it was Maxwell who came up with the idea of the pretentious description for an ordinary appetizer we pulled together last minute. He helps, and that’s important to me.”

She frowns slightly as she studies her wedding ring.

“He’s forgetful, loyal to a fault to the wrong people, tends to not take certain responsibilities too seriously, and DO NOT get me started on his stress dancing. But his love? His love is magnificent and unwavering and when he bestows it upon you in whatever capacity … it’s forever.”

Her eyes glance at the security monitor before falling upon her daughter who is singing Happy Birthday as she pushes a plastic teacup in front of a Raggedy Ann doll.

“And I wouldn’t have him any other way.”

Riley Brooks Beaumont (ex-wife, UnRomance AU)

Riley Brooks Beaumont enters the restaurant, the hem of her navy dress swirling about her ankles. Her eyes narrow as they adjust to the dim lighting. She makes her way to the table; Maxwell Beaumont’s ex-wife has reached her chair when her head swivels and her eyes widen slightly.

At the next table is a tall Asian man with dark hair and eyes, holding a lunch meeting with what appears to be a client. Spreadsheets, charts, and graphs lay before him, and the low murmur of his voice travels slightly as he explains what the numbers represent.

He looks up; there is no recognition as he locks eyes with Riley briefly before he continues speaking. She’s slightly flustered as she sits, and quickly swallows iced water with lemon. Her eyes, filled with puzzled disbelief, dart to the Asian man before she begins speaking.

“Max and I are still friends, still friendly,” she begins. Her voice is low, her tone nostalgic. “We’re definitely better apart than we ever were together, and it’s no one’s fault.”

A waiter arrives with a glass of wine she didn’t order, and she shakes her head negatively. The water is sufficient.

“We met in Cordonia where we were both backpacking our way through the Mediterranean. We arrived with separate groups, but we ditched them to explore on our own. I never saw those people again.” She chuckles slightly. “Our romance was a whirlwind, much like Max himself. He has an energy … a … restlessness that’s contagious. He sees everything through rose-colored glasses and has an inherent kindness that makes him pretty irresistible. He wants to do right by those he’s closest to, but it’s hard for him to take the necessary actions to do so.”

Her phone pings; with an apologetic look, she picks up the cell and swiftly reads a text message. She sets it face down on the table as she speaks again.

“Not saying that Max is lazy, but he needs pushing and direction at times. He needs focus.

“I need to be the partner, the helpmate, to be able to give up control and let the man lead. But I couldn’t do that with Max; I was the one working, worrying about bills, and running the relationship. I met his needs, he couldn’t meet mine. He was content to let me support his dreams, but not motivated enough to actually work on them.

“I ended up mothering him, and we both resented me for it. Yet for all the accusations and arguments, he didn’t want the divorce; I did.”

The waiter returns, this time with a tray of food. It’s the mahi mahi lunch platter, with rice pilaf and broccoli florets. A look of panicked bewilderment crosses her face; she hasn’t even looked at the menu. Her eyes dart to the next table again; the Asian man is engrossed in conversation between bites of fish and rice pilaf.

“There were good times. Fun times. At our wedding, we delivered our vows via a rap battle. We would get drunk off cheap wine and lay on the rooftop, staring at the stars and making wishes.  We danced, and dear God, could he make me laugh! We wanted children, but it never happened for us. Maybe things would’ve been different if it had.” Her voice trails off, and she looks sadly at her plate of food.  

“Max and I were what we wanted, but not what we needed. Since our divorce, he’s been focused on his goals and growing up. He’s dating my best friend, which is slightly awkward for me, but she isn’t trying to mold him or control him. Penelope lets Max be, and he thrives best when he can just be. His timetable is different from everyone else’s; he’s always been one to march to his own beat.”

At the next table, the businessman is putting away his paperwork; he stands as he and the client shake hands. He picks up his phone when he sits back down, fingers typing swiftly. Riley’s phone pings again. She glances down, then across at the man who is now signing his receipt.

“I have to go,” she says as she rises from her chair. “Please know that Max is a great guy, he just needs too much support; I couldn’t continue to give it to him.”

Her lunch sits untouched as she walks out the restaurant’s doorway, in step with the man from the next table.

Olivia Nevrakis (Max’s girlfriend, DC AU)

“I can sum Maxwell Beaumont in two words,” Olivia Nevrakis states as she blows over a cup of fragrant tea to cool the liquid. “Perfect peace.”

Her very expression softens as she gazes as a picture of the two of them that sits on a floating shelf. Olivia is facing the camera, her tongue poked out through unpainted lips while flipping the photographer the bird. Maxwell stands behind her, his head dipped downward and his lips pressing into her hair; his face is in profile and shadow.

“I’m a difficult woman; I’m self-sufficient, stubborn, and used to taking care of myself. Max … he doesn’t try to change me. He’s my safe space. I can vent to him, I can laugh with him.” A slight pause; she appears to struggle with her next admission.

“I can be vulnerable with Max. I can cry around him. I can tell him my secrets, my innermost thoughts. Do you know how hard that is for someone as jaded as I am? But with Max, everything is just … easy.

“You know what? We never quarrel. Never. And trust me, I try it. Because he’s a little too good to be true sometimes. But he looks at me with those impossibly blue eyes of his and says, “You can disagree all you want, but that doesn’t make me any less right.” She sips her tea and grimaces at the taste. “Who can argue with that?”

Olivia reaches for a jar of honey and pours some into the cup, followed by cream. She stirs briskly, blending the flavorings into her beverage. An expression of satisfaction settles over her features when she sips again.

“Max is … balanced. That’s the only way to describe it. For all the weed, sex, junk food, and silly dancing … there’s meditation, massages, flowers for no reason, deep conversations, and cuddles. We share the chores and split the bills. We support each other in whatever way we need to. He doesn’t pigeon-hole either of us into roles or societal norms. We’re a team and a team gets in where they fit in.

“Now if I can just get him to curb his generosity when it comes to freely sharing the good green, he would be absolute perfect peace. “

Duke Liam Rys (Max’s fiancé, Laxwell AU)

“Max is my favorite subject; he’s my favorite everything!” The Duke of Valtoria laughs as his cheeks color pink.

“I’ve known him practically my entire life, but it took Drake Walker running away for me to truly see Max, to wonder what he and I could have without losing our friendship. And I want to clarify right now that Max is NOT a rebound! He’s too special, too pure to be anything other than first choice. Hell, only choice!”

Liam looks through his closet, pulling a pair of tan-colored linen pants and tossing them onto his bed. The bed he shares with Lord Maxwell Beaumont. He’s agreed to pick his fiancé up from Ramsford; from there they are headed to Portavira for a seafood dinner with the Ebrims.

“Max is horribly underestimated. Everyone sees the party boy, the slacker, the former fat kid with the jokes. But there is so much more to him than that. He’s in university, working on a double major in economics and digital marketing. His social skills are the envy of Court; he isn’t the best at reading a room, but Max is the best at reading a person. He has not one enemy within Court, and that is a testament to who he is as a person.

“His jokes are his way of covering his insecurities; he’d rather make you laugh than be the butt of laughter. He can keep a confidence. If I had to choose only one of his best qualities, it would be that he doesn’t gossip. Except with me, and even then, it’s on a need-to-know basis.”

A short-sleeved linen shirt the exact color of the pants gets tossed onto the bed as well. The Duke squats as he inspects rows upon rows of shoes.

“He saved me, you know,” Liam whispers, almost to himself. “Max was there at the two lowest points of my life. First Drake, then the assassins. You know how they say when one door closes, another one opens? You just have to get there. Believe me, it is utter hell in the hallways between doors. Max held my hand in the hallways.”

He pulls a pair of cognac-colored fisherman sandals, his eyes narrowed as he studies the contrast in colors. “It’ll work,” he sighs as the shoes join the outfit.

“Max is the yin to my yang. He stops me from being too serious, and overthinking everything. He turns the fear into excitement. Everything with him is an adventure.” The young noble gives a boyish grin. “I need adventures.” The smile falters. “I’m only able to love him because he loved me first. He taught me how to love both of us.”

His cell rings, and his face lights up. It’s Max. With a nod and smile, Liam walks away as he murmurs into the phone. Silence as he listens.

“NO WAY am I bringing ANY of those murderous peacocks with me! I will swim to Portavira first!”

Drake Walker

Drake’s expression is introspective as he takes a long pull from his flask. After a long swallow, he swipes at his mouth with the back of hand as he sets the flask a little too loudly on the wooden tabletop.

“Maxwell Beaumont? So, we’re going there.” Drake rakes shaggy bangs off his forehead as he ponders what he can safely say in appreciation about Lord Beaumont.

He pulls a pack of cigarettes closer to him, his fingers pulling one out of the pack. He digs in his shirt pocket for a lighter. The pad of his thumb scrapes the spark wheel; the small flame briefly illuminates his stubbled jawline before it’s extinguished.

“My relationship with Beaumont is … complex. There’s a lot of moving parts.” He inhales deeply; when he speaks, his words mingle with bluish-gray smoke.

“I’ve been told I’m ungrateful, but what people fail to realize is I’ve been baptized in dirty water. Every break I’ve gotten, every blessing bestowed … it’s come with a price I had no choice but to pay. I don’t owe anyone here anything.”

The Commoner’s hands clench, his jaw tenses. “Beaumont … that bastard KNEW where my sister … the only family I had left in Cordonia … he knew where she was the entire time! I was going fucking INSANE trying to find her. He was there all those times when I was taunted and teased by Olivia as to Sav’s whereabouts. He KNEW where she was when Liam sent security to find her.”

Drake’s voice cracks. “And he never once said a word!”

Silence as he smokes his cigarette, plucking columns of dead cinders into a full ashtray. “Motherfucker,” he mumbles.

“Yet, I don’t hate him. I can’t. For all the bullshit he’s put me through, I can’t help but admire him for his loyalty to and friendship with Savannah. I’m grateful someone had her back and made sure she and Bartie were taken care of.

“And despite our stations in life, Beaumont is the one person I would say gets me. We’re both outsiders, for different reasons of course; we’re the slackers of the bunch …our jobs are being friends with a King, but I’m the one who gets the heat for it. Beaumont gets a pat on the back. And let’s face it, we’re both mooching and sucking at the tit of the Crown.

“The difference is, in exchange, he’ll give them a song and dance and a helluva party. And I give him crap for it. Me … I give ‘em the finger, and he defends me for it.”

Drake scoffs before shrugging his shoulders. “How can someone have your back and still stab you in it? I mean, what are you supposed to do with a guy like that? ”

He shakes his head before barking out a wry laugh. “I swear to God, me and Beaumont are a couple of half-assed orphans … we aren’t complete orphans because as much as they don’t have anything to do with us, we each have a surviving parent … and we’re just walking each other home.”

He pulls at the flask again. “It’s nice walking with him. Sometimes.”

Bertrand Beaumont

“The one question I am constantly asked is if Maxwell and I are really related. The unfortunate answer is yes,” the Duke of Ramsford says slowly as his eyes read over treaties and agreements. “We are blood brothers. Literally.”

Bertrand pauses to sign and seal an arrangement between the Duchy of Ramsford and the Isle of Crete for the import and export of wines between them. He places it in a stack of papers to be couriered to the Palace for final review and approval by the King.

“We have both suffered the consequences and effects of having Barthelemy Beaumont for a parent, but Maxwell definitely received the brunt of it. Nothing he did was ever good enough because in father’s eyes, Maxwell wasn’t good enough. As the second-born, father had little use for Maxwell, so he grew up with mother as his primary parent.

“I believe that is where my brother learned and honed his humor skills, and how he is able to see the potential and not the worst-case scenarios.” A small smile plays upon the noble’s lips. “Perhaps his fear of missing out as well. I believe people call it FOMO.”

Bertrand’s eyes mist over ever so slightly, and his voice takes on a faraway tone. “Maxwell was determined to spend every available minute with mother. He would awaken before the sun rose and sit outside our parents’ bedroom door, waiting for mother to step out. As a toddler, he rarely used the bathroom for fear of being parted from her; he once went 17 hours without relieving himself.

“He and mother would go for walks, they read to each other, they danced. From courtly waltzes to disco to American pop and rap … they danced and laughed and shared inside jokes. However, for as much as Maxwell loved mother, he was never a mama’s boy. He’s always had a bit of a rebellious streak that came to the forefront with her death.”

He glances at the vintage timepiece that sits on his desk, then returns his attention to another agreement. “I admit I haven’t been the best sibling to my brother, and that our relationship isn’t always the best it can be. It’s a clash of personalities, but the difference is, unlike father, I’m learning to listen to and attempt to understand Maxwell. All while struggling with my own FOMO.

“He had mother, who encouraged his dreams. I had father, who killed mine.”

The Duke’s lips purse in disapproval as he reads over another trade agreement. “I definitely got the worst end of that bargain.”

Duchess Savannah Walker-Beaumont

The Duchess stands in her kitchen, her hands and forearms deep in a mixture of raw meat, eggs, onions, peppers, and breadcrumbs; a whining Bartie tugs impatiently at her pant leg.

“Drake’s coming over for dinner, so we’re eating American tonight. Mom’s meatloaf,” she offers in explanation.

Savannah glances down at her son as her hands knead and combine the ingredients in an Amish Farmer bowl. “Mama’s gonna make you some lunch real soon, okay?”

The child nods slowly as his eyes dart suspiciously between his mother’s face and the bowl.

A soft smile curves Savannah’s lips as she speaks. “Max? I love Max. Not in the way I love his brother, but I definitely don’t love Max as a brother. It’s more than that, but not like that.” She laughs in embarrassment. “Quite sure that made absolutely no sense at all, but it’s hard to verbalize what Maxwell means to me.

“You know, growing up in the Palace, surrounded by Court, it’s easy to blend in. Get lost. I was lost.  Court didn’t know who I was. I was never Jackson’s daughter; merely Drake’s little sister. The guy who hated their guts was more well-known and well-liked than the person who actually wanted to be there!

“I was one of three things: an oversight, an annoyance, a joke. I had two friends at Court: Maxwell and Kiara. We were the misfits. They were the only ones who knew about me and Bertrand. When I got pregnant and Bertrand pushed me away, they were the ones who helped me plan to run away to Paris. Kiara gave me French lessons, not only speaking it but reading it as well. Max arranged for the travel and helped me find lodging.

“I know lots of folks think I just mooched off Max the entire pregnancy, but I landed a job quickly when I settled in Paris. I was a waitress, just like Riley, until I couldn’t work any longer. THAT is when Max stepped in with offerings of the financial kind. He insisted that Bert owed me and Bartie. I didn’t feel right taking the help, not with Bertrand not knowing, but Max insisted, saying a Beaumont always takes care of their obligations.”

She wipes and washes her hands before reaching inside the refrigerator for barbecue sauce and minced garlic. The mother looks quickly over at her son, who is now loudly banging pots against the floor. Savannah studies the contents of the fridge before pulling leftover chicken, peas, and sweet potato out for Bartie’s lunch.

“I never wanted to be a burden or have Bartie viewed as an obligation, but Lord knows the extra money was a godsend.” Her voice grows quiet. “Max is my guardian angel, even now. Drake has Liam, I have Max.”

The Duchess scoops her son in one arm, and the pot with her free hand; she places the pot on an eye of the stove before pointing to the leftovers, explaining to her son that will be lunch. He grins happily before planting a wet kiss on her cheek. She laughs as she rubs noses with him.

“You wanna call Uncle Max and invite him over for meatloaf?”

Barite nods enthusiastically. “Unca Mack, Unca Mack,” he chants.

She opens a box of animal crackers, handing Bartie one before they leave the room to fetch her cellphone.

Riam

“Oooooh, we’re talking about Maxwell?” the Queen asks eagerly as she joins her husband on the drawing room sofa.

Their three-month-old twin sons are napping, and the monarchs are enjoying a quick lunch during the downtime. Plates of food are strategically scattered along the cherrywood coffee table; the King picks up a plate with a double lamb burger laden with mayonnaise, gouda cheese, grilled onions, and mushrooms; French fries; and a sliced kosher dill pickle.

The Queen chews on a deep-fried, corn-battered chicken fritter before selecting a taco salad. She mixes rice, guacamole, beans, ground beef, and seasoned rice as she speaks.

“THAT mofo! Let me tell y’all about Lord Beaumont. The man can’t tell the whole truth to SAVE.HIS.LIFE! He’s been half-assing it with me from the very beginning! It started when he convinced me to come to Cordonia. Pack a bag, he said. Everything is covered, he said. It’ll be an adventure, he said.”

She pauses to eat several forkfuls of salad and steal some of her husband’s fries. “It was not ANYTHING he said it would be! I wasn’t noble, so I didn’t know a damned thing! Apparently Maxwell didn’t either, so thank GOD for Hana Lee! I didn’t have ball gowns and riding outfits, or the money to buy them! And let me add that suitors did not get a participation discount! I maxed out all my credit cards paying full price, which wasn’t hard because of the stupidly low limits on them.

“I ALMOST GOT KILLED ON MY WEDDING NIGHT! But, to give Max credit, dude can FIGHT! Like, he kicks ass! He beat Anton like that man owed him money. But back to bashing … that fool writes MY STORY, puts HIS picture on the cover of the book, and now he’s GETTING RICH off of me! While I’m sitting over here, a broke single mother with a poor credit score.”

She shakes her head. “I should take his ass to court and sue the pants off him because he owes me ALLLL the royalties, but I’ve heard rumors about him releasing his kraken. Liam wouldn’t want me to see that.”

King Liam stares at his wife for a brief moment; she has abandoned the taco salad for a plate of sliced grilled chicken, garlic pasta, and broccoli au gratin. He dabs at the corners of his mouth before talking.

“My wife is correct, I would not want her seeing any kracken, but I think Riley doesn’t have the complete picture of Lord Maxwell. He is sweet, kind, empathetic. He believes in fairytales and that no one is too old for them. Yes, he’s forgetful and excitable and can be a bit of a jester, but it all comes from a good place. He has good intentions.”

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions,” Riley interrupts around a mouthful of food. “And where was all this positivity when he dragged us along on his Hollywood tour?”

Liam mulls his answer as he pours a glass of iced tea.

“Maxwell is unused to attention. Once his mother died, he became an afterthought to his father, brother, and the majority of Court. Hierarchy plays a large role in how people are treated, especially within the upper echelons of society; Lord Maxwell is merely noble, not royal. He is second-born, not expected to ascend any higher than his current station.

“Also, he’s used to not being in the spotlight. Any questions directed to him can be fielded to Bertrand, the Duke. His biggest claim to fame before the book and film was being the architect of the Beaumont Bash and even that has to have final approval from Bertrand.

“Now, he’s the man of the hour. He’s the one with the answers. He’s the final approver. Understandably, it went to his head.”

“Are you defending him?” the Queen demanded. “When I am the reason anyone even knows his name? Who’s going to pay off those credit cards? HE OWES ME, Liam!”

“Riley, all your financial affairs were settled upon our engagement … three years ago!”

“Not by him, they weren’t!”

“Is this about your credit score, or settling a score with Lord Beaumont?”

The Queen’s eyes are narrow slits. “You don’t know me. At ALL.”

Lady Kiara Theron

“Agreeing to be Maxwells girlfriend is definitely a tally in the win column for me,” Lady Kiara Theron says happily as she steps onto the balcony of the Midtown Manhattan hotel.

The future Duchess is in New York City for a UN Junior Ambassadors event.

“He has taught me so much about letting loose and having fun. Before Max, life was all work and studies and culture. It was routine. But now, there’s freestyle dancing and late-night rides to nowhere and roller skating and all the things.

“There is a trade-off because we both believe in learning and teaching and growing. So, there are lessons and educational activities, but fun ones: cooking, languages, painting. Life with Maxwell Beaumont is something I never knew I needed, and I wonder what I ever did before him.”

The smile fades slowly from her face as she takes in the view from the 33rd floor, and her expression becomes pensive.

“When I think of all the time I spent pining after Drake Walker …”

She shakes her head.  “I think that’s something Max and I have in common. We were never seen by the folks we crushed on because we weren’t seen as threats. And I don’t mean in a dangerous, risky type of way.” She falls silent as she formulates her thoughts into words.

“Drake didn’t see me as someone who could capture his heart; I wasn’t romance material, not relationship material to him. I mean, I don’t know why … look at me!”

She spreads her arms wide and gives a little twirl, her hair flying against her face as she giggles.

“Same with Riley and Max. And when you aren’t perceived as a threat, you’re never seen as a contender.

“It makes sense now given who they eventually ended up with. Drake needs someone who’s going to meet him at his level. I can’t do that. If the best version of Kiara has to show up, the best version of you does too. Not the best you can do, the best version period.

“Riley wants the huge romantic overtures; the glitz and the glamour. Max isn’t an overt person in that way. One thing I’ve learned being with Maxwell is that love isn’t always butterflies and heart palpitations. It isn’t always loud. It’s small gestures and meaningful actions. I’ve discovered that like love finds like love.”

The smile is back on her lips and lights up her face. “Max and I found each other. What I love best about him is that he loves me, he loves himself, but he loves us the most.”

The hotel phone rings, and Kiara hurries inside to answer it. The conversation is quick and one-sided. After hanging up, she rummages in her purse for her wallet before pulling out currency.

“The greatest thing about being in a relationship with Max is, he insists we take time for self-care. One day a week, we spend apart doing whatever it is we need to do for ourselves. Be it errands, business-related matters, or just vegging out. It’s our day.

“Well, today is that day and I’m going to enjoy genuine New York pizza and watch that Netflix series he insists we watch together because my boyfriend is greedy and without fail, talks through movies and tv shows. Sometimes, no matter how deeply you love someone, you just need a whole pizza to yourself and uninterrupted entertainment.

“Don’t tell him that, though. He’ll get over the pizza, but not the Netflix.”

Maxwell Beaumont

“Folks are TALKING about me?? Is it bad? If it is, you can’t believe a word they say! Will it be in the tabloids? Are there pictures? Did they get my good side? I hope so.”

Tagging:   @jared2612 @ao719  @marietrinmimi @queenjilian @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @mom2000aggie @liamrhysstalker2020  @neotericthemis @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet  @busywoman @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @beezm @gardeningourmet @lovingchoices14 @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @lady-calypso @emkay512 @jovialyouthmusic @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @queenrileyrose @alj4890 @yourfavaquarius111 @motorcitymademadame @queenmiarys  @choicesficwriterscreations @burnsoslow @harleybeaumont @maxwell-beaumont-appreciation​

[augment-techs]

Another one on the made-up fic title thing: A Bad Batch of Cookies + Calpresto

Title: A Bad Batch of Cookies//Worth a Baker's Dozen From the Shop Rating: T Relationships: Preston Tien/Calvin Maxwell; Hayley Foster/Sarah Thompson. Characters: Preston Tien; Calvin Maxwell; Mick Kanic; Redbot; Hayley Foster; Sarah Thompson; Brody Romero; Levi Weston. Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff; Mini Dates; Horrible Cooking Skills; Kitchen Shenanigans; Dyslexic Calvin; ADHD Preston; Mick being a better father figure than both Dane and Mr. Tien combined; Bakery Donuts; Diner Date. Summary: "Can we have chocolate milk and dino nuggets instead?" Preston continued to hold the cookie tins aloft in his apron that really wasn't appropriate for the kitchen (terrycloth? really?) in the oven mitts with the cows painted to look like ladybugs; smoke wafting up around him and the fire alarms blaring like emergency calls.

Calvin, for his part, continued to look innocent, but also completely and utterly done with this situation in the multi-thousand dollar kitchen Preston had commandeered for the day with the promise of giving his staff the day off. The egg mess was still drying on his crotch and shoes, and he was fully aware that he'd need a boiling hot shower to get the caramel syrup and rum extract out of his hair.

Additional Scenes for thought:

Preston accidentally turning store bought eggs into pigeons, cardinals, robins, and two very confused peacocks.

Mr. Tien telling Calvin he smells like a girl because of the extract and syrup and Calvin being FULLY secure in his masculinity, thank you very much.

Calvin being totally aware that he's wearing a blouse and heeled boots he got in the mutual breakup with Hayley, but being totally unwilling to give them back no matter how many times someone brings it up.

Kissing in an unexpected downpour and cutting scenes to observe Calpresto walking soaking wet into a Denny's.

@skyland2703

[inclineto]

Books, July-August 2023

The Secret Lives of Country Gentlemen - KJ Charles

Dragonsinger - Anne McCaffrey [many elements of McCaffrey’s work haven’t aged well - let’s be honest and give past readers some credit for acumen: many of them were never good to begin with - and this book is not free of all of them, but as far as I’m concerned, this and Dragonsong are the most wholeheartedly enjoyable things she ever wrote] *

The Assistants - Camille Perri

An Archive of Taste: Race and Eating in the Early United States - Lauren F. Klein [excellent study of connections and divergences between taste (sensory), taste (aesthetic), and taste (social) and its role in defining the nature and boundaries of American national identity in the late 18th and early 19th centuries; creative use of the now-familiar language and methods of archival sources and silences, and chapter five (”Absence: Slavery and Silence in the Archive of Eating”) may be my new recommendation when professors ask for a chapter on digital humanities and archives to assign their grad students; open access full text] *

Caddie Woodlawn - Carol Ryrie Brink [I know I read this at least once as a child, but except for a vague impression of peacocks it didn’t stick with me, and that’s probably for the best...holy noble savages stereotypes, Batman]

The Impossible Art: Adventures in Opera - Matthew Aucoin [another one of those weird “I knew you before the MacArthur” reading experiences]

Brother’s Ruin - Emma Newman

Violets - Shin Kyung-Sook, translated by Anton Hur

Leave it to Psmith - P.G. Wodehouse

Ocean’s Echo - Everina Maxwell

Tolkien and the Great War: The Threshold of Middle-earth - John Garth [Between the thin skins of the fans and the litigiousness of the estate, I’m not sure it’s possible to write about Tolkien without falling into a hard-to-take, defensively pretentious voice; I used to assume the authors were imitating Tolkien (badly), but - much worse - I think they may really be trying to sound like Christopher Tolkien trying to sound like his father. The result is almost always unfortunate, and yet if you make it 150 pages or so you will eventually realize that you have begun not to notice it. Anyway, war is terrible.]

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

sometimes. inside of my mind. i call maxwell 'she'. but like in the same way i call a beautiful male peacock 'she'. does that make snes

[angelasscribbles]

Social Climber

Series: None, this is a one-shot and you can find those here.

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Riley x Maxwell, Riley x Drake, Riley x Liam

Rating: NSFW 🍋

Warnings for this chapter: Lemon Scented. Language.

Riley is not really a good person in this one. You're favorite LI is probably getting his heart broken, so be warned.

Word Count: 2,098

Song Inspiration: Ok, listen. I don't know what this is. I listened to this song 👉Fancy by Reba McEntire yesterday, then came home and wrote this 👇🤷‍♀️

My other stuff: Master List.

“Did you see the guys at table four?” Miranda asked her.

“No. Why?” Riley asked as she lined up drinks on her tray.

“Because they’re hot as fuck!” Miranda answered.

“Yeah,” Daphne said, “If you like kids.”

“Just because you’re fifty, doesn’t mean the rest of us are old!” Riley quipped as she craned her neck to get a look at table four.

“You’re right.” Daphne agreed, “I forget how young you are sometimes, Ri, you’re very mature for your age.”

“If you mean I had to grow up fast and never really got a childhood because I grew up dirt poor with an abusive father and sick mom then yes. Drama and trauma will do that to you!”

Her father had abandoned them when she was a teenager, her much younger sister had ended up a ward of the state, and her mother had finally succumbed to her cancer.

All before she turned eighteen.  

But she was doing fine on her own. Her mother’s last act before she died had been to pawn her wedding rings and buy Riley a nice dress with matching shoes and a bottle of perfume.

“I don’t understand, momma.” Riley trembled as she stood in front of the mirror, “What am I supposed to do?”

“There’s a nightclub in the redlight district called The Red Apple. Ask for the owner, he’s an old family friend. Tell him you’re my daughter and ask for a job working the VIP section. From there, just be nice to the men that come in there. If you want out of this life, you’ll have to do it yourself. Marry a rich man, Riley, do you understand me? The richest one you can find! Promise me, Riley, promise me!”

Riley wiped the tears from her face as she answered, “I promise, momma, I promise!”

“I heard one of them is a lord!” One of the other girls burbled.

Riley’s ears perked up, “Which one?”

“The one with the peacocks on his tie!” The girl giggled.

Riley spotted him as he stood up to yell something at his friend across the table.

Her eyes lit up.

“Hey, Daphne, table four is yours, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…”

“Trade with me!”

“I don’t know…that’s going to be a really good tip….”

“Trade with me and I’ll split whatever I get with you, and you can keep one hundred percent of whatever you make off my table. Here.” She thrust the tray of drinks at her, “That’s a B-list celebrity over there, he’ll tip well too.”

Daphne shrugged as she took the tray, “Fine.”

Riley adjusted her skirt and unsnapped another button on her skin-tight, sheer blouse before approaching the table, “Welcome to The Red Apple, gentlemen. What’s everyone having tonight?”

`````````````````

He stumbled backward into the shelves in the storeroom, his hands pulling her forward with him as they went.

“Riley…” he murmured as his hands explored her curves and valleys.

She quickly unbuttoned his shirt and licked the smooth flesh of his chest.

“Fuck!” His head thumped back into the shelf.

She pulled away.

“Wait…what are you doing? Why are you stopping?”

“I’m sorry, Max.” She demurred, “I got carried away because I’ve never felt an attraction like this before, but I can’t have sex in the back of a bar!”

“Come home with me!”

“I…can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I like you, but I don’t know you well enough for…that.”

She could see the wheels turning in his head, “Okay, then. Let me take you out so you can get to know me! Please!”

She hesitated a bare moment then gave him a shy smile, “Okay.”

`````````````

“So how long have you and Beaumont been dating?” Drake handed her a beer from the cooler and took the lawn chair next to her, cracking open his own bottle.

Riley thought back, “About three months.”

Max’s friend was cute. Chestnut hair fell in his eyes and he kept pushing it back as he talked. “And where did you meet?”

“At work. Well, it was work for me. I was his waitress.”

“Huh.” He brought the bottle to his lips and tipped it back.

“What’s huh mean?”

“Nothing. Just…you’re not his usual type that’s all. You’re too hot for him by far. No offense.”

“Why would I take offense to that?” She laughed, “You totally just called me hot.”

He pulled the bottle away from his mouth as he choked a little on the liquid, “That I did. Don’t make me laugh while I’m drinking, Brooks.”

“This is your cabin?” She asked as she watched Max playing lawn darts on the other side of the clearing.

“Yeah.” He glanced around at all the people talking, laughing, and drinking. “The party was my sister’s idea. I usually come here for peace and quiet. It’s a nice change of pace from the palace.”

Riley’s attention sharpened, “You live at the palace?”

“Yeah.” He admitted sheepishly, “I figured Max told you.”

“No. Why do you live there?”

“Well, I work there for one. But I also grew up there. The royal family kind of adopted me after my dad died. Liam is my best friend.”

“Liam?”

“You know, the spare.”

“Holy shit, you’re best friends with a real life prince?”

“It’s not as glamours as it sounds.”

They sat in silence for a long moment, then she asked, “So how often do you come up here?”

`````````````

“What do you mean the Beaumonts are broke?” Riley stared at the blonde woman across the table from her.

“I mean they’re broke.” Ana de Luca replied, “I’m going to run a story about it next month. I was hoping to get some insider information from you about the state of things inside the Beaumont estate.”

“Like what?” Riley asked. When she’d been invited out to lunch by a reporter, she had figured it was to pump her for information about her boyfriend, and she was willing to give it, for the right price.

“I don’t know.” Ana replied, “You’re the one on the inside. Have you noticed a reduction in staff or the quality of food? Anything?”

How the hell did she know what passed for a normal staff for a fucking duke?

She knew Bertrand was a pompous asshole is what she knew.

No, she had not known the Beaumonts were broke.

``````````````

“Oh, my God!” Drake panted as he rolled off her and dropped onto the mattress next to her, “That was fucking amazing! Shit!”

“You weren’t bad yourself,” Riley told him.

“Not bad, just not bad?”

She laughed, “I’m teasing! Yes, it was great, but I’m sure you know that by the gouges I left in your back.”

“War wounds.” He said, “Badges of honor!”

She snuggled close into his chest, “This was a nice surprise.”

“Was it really a surprise?” He asked, “I feel like I wasn’t subtle about liking you.”

“Maybe I was starting to suspect.”

“I just didn’t want to move too fast. It’s only been a month since you and Max broke up.”

“Thank you for being there for me through all that.”

“You never really told me what went wrong.”

“Turns out we just weren’t compatible.”

“Well, I’m sorry that you had to go through that but I’m not sorry that you ended up in my bed.”

“Neither am I.” She agreed, “This is right where I need to be.”

````````````

“So, you’re the girl Drake won’t stop talking about.”

“And you must be the best friend. It’s nice to meet you, Liam. I’m Riley.” She held out her hand.

He took her hand and kissed it, “The pleasure’s all mine. You’re even more beautiful than he said.”

“Thank you.” She giggled. “I can already tell we’re going to be great friends!”

````````````````

“Riley…Riley, we…we shouldn’t be doing this!” Liam’s eyes closed but he didn’t move away from her.

“I know! But I can’t help myself when I’m around you!”

Riley’s lips trailed down his neck. Her hand slipped under the waistband of his pants.

He sucked in a sharp hiss as her hand wrapped around him. He shivered as she breathed into his ear, “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”

His eyes held desperation as they traced across the familiar landscape of her face.

He wanted her.

“Don’t stop.” He whispered.

````````````

She entered the ballroom on the arm of a prince.

The breakup with Drake had not gone well.

They’d waited a reasonable amount of time to announce their relationship.

He said he was happy for them, but it was a lie. She could feel the weight of his stare from across the room.

She ignored it. She had acquired a new target.

“Nice to meet you, Your Majesty.”

“No need for that! Please, just call me Leo!”

“Nice to meet you, Leo. I see good looks run in the family!”

“So does good taste in women!” His eyes ran down her body and up again, making her flush with heat when they met hers.

“Save a dance for me?”

“Oh, absolutely!”

```````````````````

The queen of Cordonia sat in the royal sitting room with her three accusers.

She had married Leo in a lavish ceremony two months prior.

“Did you ever like me at all or was I just your way in?” Max demanded.

“You just used me to get to Liam, didn’t you?” Drake accused.

Liam glowered at her, “And then you used me to get to my brother!”

“Does it matter now?” She asked, “That’s all in the past. I’ve settled down.”

“You’ve made it to the top rung of the ladder, you mean,” Drake said.

“Same difference.” She snapped.

“Have you ever actually loved anyone?” Liam wanted to know.

She sighed as she took in the hurt and anger on their faces. “I did care about each one of you, in my own way. I wasn’t strictly using you.”

She hadn’t been strictly not using them either.

“We find that hard to believe,” Max said.

“Well, it’s true! Max, you’re funny and sweet and any woman would be lucky to have you. I just needed….something different.” She said as she fingered the locket at her neck. The one her mother had given her the last time she’d seen her alive.

If the Beaumonts hadn’t been broke, she might have married him and stopped there.

But she had made a promise, and she kept her promises.

“And Drake… you’re loyal and intense and amazing in bed. If it was all about sex, we’d still be together.”

He had even less money than the Beaumonts.

Love and sex and hormones were all fine and well and good when you were young. She was sure her parents had had all that in the beginning.

And look how that turned out.

“I didn’t deserve you.”

It was true. She had betrayed him in the worst possible way and still he did his best to be a friend to her.

She couldn’t understand why.

“And Liam.” She turned to face him, “I owe you the biggest apology of all.”

She had seduced him, driven a wedge between him and his best friend then betrayed him and driven a wedge between him and his own brother.

“You’re too trusting by far, you have a good and kind heart and I’m sorry I hurt you.”

If she had only promised her mother to marry a rich man, she could have stopped with Liam.

But that wasn’t the promise she’d made, she’d promised to marry the richest one she could find and she kept her promises.

She looked at Drake and Max in turn, “I’m sorry I hurt all of you. I don’t expect you to understand why.”

“You’re not in love with Leo.” Drake stated it as a fact.

He knew her well. Not well enough to have seen the knife to his back coming, but better than most.

“I’m not.” She confirmed.

But he was good to her and she would never want for anything again in her life.

Neither would her sister.

“Who do you love, Riley?” Liam asked.

Riley sighed. She supposed she owed them all the truth.

It wasn’t like Leo could divorce her.

Well, he could. But it would cost him. A lot.

Either way, she was set for life and that was all that mattered.

She’d kept her promise.

Her hand went to the locket again as she pictured the inscription, “To thine own self be true.”

“Just tell us.” Max implored.

It was time to be true to herself. She was done using and lying to people.

“Hana.” She said, “I’m in love with Hana.”

[karahalloway]

A Leviathan Surprise

Fandom: TRR

Series: None - this is a one-shot

Pairings: Maxwell Beamont x Bertrand Beaumont (nothing sexual - just brotherly love)

Synopsis: Maxwell unveils a larger than life surprise for Bertrand's birthday

Word count: 1,200

Warnings: Posh British swearing, using the Lord's name in vain, oversized squid

A/N1: This is my off-the-cuff submission for Day 4: Friends and Family of the inaugural Maxwell Beaumont Appreciation Week, hosted by @maxwell-beaumont-appreciation.

A/N2: The idea for this one-shot was actually born back in December when @maxwell-beaumont-appreciation reblogged this post by @fictionangyl featuring the cover photo and the question 'Think Bertrand would approve of a little redecorating at Ramsford? 🤔' and the general consensus was 'no' 🤣 But I got inspired by the pic and the comments and decided that I had to immortalise this visual in a fic, because it was too perfect to pass up!

A/N3: I know I normally write in first person POV, but this drabble came to me in third person, so here we are 😇

A/N4: Since Bertrand is 33 at the start of (Un)Common Attraction, I guess that means that this fic takes place 3 years before the start of the social season.

A Leviathan Surprise

Maxwell was giddy with excitement.

Scratch that.

He was positively bursting with anticipation!

Bertrand was going to be home any minute now, and the young Beaumont could not wait to surprise his older brother with his... Well, surprise.

It was Bertrand's birthday, after all...

And even though Bertrand hadn't wanted a fuss made, much less a party thrown — because, let's face it, they were broke — when one of his thousands of Insta followers had tagged him in a post featuring this jewel of divine inspiration, Maxwell had known: THIS was it... the perfect birthday present for his brother.

The fact that it had cost the better part of an arm and a leg and had required several hundred dedicated man-hours to accomplish was besides the point.

Bertrand was going to love it!

And that's all that mattered.

Because this year — of all years — Bertrand deserved to be treated. And a bit of financial bother was not going to stop Lord Breakdance from properly commemorating his brother's epic milestone.

The big 3-0.

Bertrand was now officially (and irreconcilably) a grown-up.

So what better way to celebrate (or commiserate?) than by killing two birds with one stone?

The painting gallery had always held a special place in the Beaumont brothers' hearts. In large part because it was where their mother's portrait hung — young, beautiful, full of life, she beamed out at the viewer even though it was against the conventions of formal portraiture.

But then, their mother had never been a stickler for the rules...

...probably why everyone said Maxwell took after her.

But a dreadful summer thunderstorm last year had sent a 100-year old oak tree crashing through the roof of the wing of the House that the gallery sat in, leaving an unsightly hole in the ceiling. Which — even though it had been patched — had never been completely made new.

We have more important things to allocate our meagre funds on, Bertrand kept reminding him every time the subject was raised.

Well, no longer!

Maxwell had taken matters into his own hands — raising a chunk of the money through livestreamed charity breakdance-offs with prominent YouTubers, and receiving the shortfall via a last-minute cheque made out by a well-heeled benefactor — to not only bring the painting gallery back to its former glory, but to improve it!

Bertrand was going to love it.

He was sure of it.

In fact, he had never been more sure of anything in his life!

...apart from the time he had bought an entire ostentation of peacocks so he could perform a peacock wedding.

Because what better way to celebrate the fact that these beautiful birds mated for life?

...or was the swans...?

It didn't matter. The point was that Maxwell had become ordained so he could perform the ceremony of the two fowl becoming one with the necessary sanctity and gravitas.

And his brother deserved the same level of commitment and dedication to detail as those beautiful birds had gotten through the course of the two-and-a-half hour long marriage affair.

Just with a lot less poop.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Maxwell!" cried Bertrand, storming into the picture gallery. "What in the blazes is so urgent that it couldn't—? Oh, good God...!"

The elder Beaumont froze as he laud eyes on the centre-piece of the newly renovated space — the gargantuan papermaché kraken that sat suspended upside-down from the ceiling like some nefarious, overgrown bat, waiting to pounce (or fall?) on its unsuspecting victims.

The ominous creaking of the wires that held in in place didn't help matters either.

"Happy birthday, Bertrand!" exclaimed Maxwell, rushing up to crush his big brother in a celebratory hug. "May your—"

Bertrand deftly sidestepped the ill-timed PDA to thrust his finger accusingly at the ceiling. "What... in the name of all that is holy... is THAT?!"

"Your birthday present!" grinned Maxwell, completely unfazed by his brother's rapidly twitching eyelid. "Do you like it?"

Bertrand was visibly trembling. "It's... it’s..."

"Gorgeous?" prompted Maxwell. "Glorious? Utterly res—?"

"IT'S AN ABOMINATION!"

Maxwell's face fell. "Oh."

"What in the devil possessed you to conceive of, let alone spend money — money which we do not have, might I add! — on such a massive piece of macabre monstrousness!"

"I thought you'd like it..." Maxwell muttered sheepishly.

"Like it?" Bertrand spluttered incredulously. "I’d like to clobber you over the head with it! I'd—!"

A lone sniffle escaped the younger Beaumont...

...and Bertrand's shoulders fell.

"Oh, bugger..." he muttered under his breath.

Stepping up to what was left of his family, he laid a consolatory hand on his sibling's shoulder. "My apologies, brother. That was crass of me. I shouldn't have—"

"You hate it," lamented Maxwell, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"No, no!" objected Bertrand quickly. "I... I was simply caught off guard. It's not everyday that you see a giant cephalopod dangling from the ceiling."

"It's okay if you hate it..." whispered Max. "I... I'll just get it taken down and—"

"You will do no such thing!" admonished the elder Beaumont. "You've already frittered away God-knows how many hundreds of guilders on—"

"Thousands," corrected Maxwell.

"Thousands?" squeaked Bertrand, going deathly pale. "Oh, dear Lord in Heaven...!"

"2,375.97 to be exact," clarified Maxwell. "And that was just the materials."

Bertrand wheezed asthmatically.

"But it was all funded by charitable donations."

Bertrand snapped his head up. "Charitable? Donations? Who in their right mind would—?"

"Fund the creation of a one-of-a-kind avant-garde art installation?" asked Leo, stepping out from behind a neo-Greek pillar.

"And spend hundreds of man-hours elbows-deep in papermaché and glue?" added Chris, emerging from behind a curtain.

"Not to mention risk life and limb trying to attach the damn thing to the ceiling..." grumbled Drake.

"You?!" demanded Bertrand with wide eyes. "You were behind this?"

"We... may have contributed our respective skills-sets," admitted Leo with a sly smile.

"If by 'contribute' you mean 'got press ganged'..." muttered Drake.

"But it was all Maxwell's idea," added Chris. "He organised the fundraising, the equipment, the workmen, even the tea and biscuits."

"Those were good biscuits..." agreed Leo with a far-away look.

Bertrand turned back to his brother. "You... you project managed this shambles? By yourself?"

Maxwell shrugged. "I had to keep it a surprise."

"Oh, you silly muppet," sighed Bertrand as he wrapped his brother into an uncommon embrace. "There's hope for you after all..."

"So... does that mean you like it?" asked Maxwell, hope sparking in his baby-blue eyes.

"I... I think it may be a somewhat of an acquired taste..." admitted Bertrand with a shudder. "But I'm proud of you, brother. You finally showed me that you have what it takes to be a true Beaumont."

"A hereditary obsession with squid?"

"Pluck," smiled Bertrand, clapping his younger sibling on the shoulder affectionately. "And that is the best birthday present a brother can ask for."

Permas:

@twinkleallnight @lovingchoices14 @kingliam2019 @petiteboheme @aussiegurl1234 @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @tessa-liam @alyshak92 @secretaryunpaid @princessleac1 @walkerdrakewalker @angelasscribbles @nestledonthaveone @tinkie1973 @twinkle-320 @knaussal @nikkis1983 @lunaseasblog @ficloverevie @indiana-jr @differenttyphoonwerewolf @xpandass420x @eversoaringqueen12 @peonierose @3pawandme @alexabeta @veebug8 @fangirling12566 @queenmiarys @lancelotsimp​ @coco-lina-s @lolablackwrites @ivyflowers13 @persephone13 @hollygirl1269 @adri-ja-96 @harleybeaumont @katedrakeohd @uneravine @choicesficwriterscreations

[courage-doodles-blog]

Info about my CTCD OCs:

Olive the Clown Demon of Greed

Felix the Pomeranian

Clive the Husky

Justin the Sheepdog

Sin Clowns(Pride, Wrath, Gluttony, Greed, Lust, Envy and Sloth)

Geo the Sheep Cherub

Petal the Poodle

Sirius

Alan and Jacob(Sirius's henchmen)

Maxwell the Ferret

Nathan

Teresa

Barry

Grinz and Frownz the Twin Cats

Vore the Vampire Bat

Raven

Russell

Platinum

Shade

Grayson

Bunitty

Amaris the Shapeshifter

Badru the Rabbit

Canine Assassins(Saber, Slice and Dice)

Feline Hunters(Thursday and Tuesday)

Jasper the Snow Leopard

Cyan the Peacock

Jingles

Marina the Dingo

Aden the Bat

Renard

Damien the Wolf

Malcolm the Mountain Hare

Snowflake the Arctic Fox

Chief Azrael

Timber and Cider

Toxin the Crime Mob Spider

Jackson the TV Head

Hurley the Siren

Carmen the Chinchilla

Crister the Lynx

Bard the Norwegian Lundehund

Alicia the Red Squirrel

Crescent the Dream Cat

Flitz

The Sacrificers(Faith, Sow and Miracle)

Aaron

Radley

Marie

Brandon

Other members of Team Frostbite

Jingles' circus friends

Crumble the Cyborg Possum

Crumble's friends

Osborne the Vampire Bat

Sorrow the Gargoyle

Courley

Sydney

Denver

Shako

Kameron

Francine

Olly

Trixie

Claude

Lucifer the Puppeteer of Terrors

Smiler the Puppet

Blizzard

Twigs

Nigel

Iram

Gloomer the Puppet

Damon

Celeste

Damon and Celeste's children

Krueger

Barney

Fear King

The Fear Slaves

Lord Blade VI

Bon

Cyril

Cannibals of Vintage City

Sir Mist

Sir Mist's pupils

Tyrone

Cyan and Nide

Salazar

Pollen

Jazz

Twitch

Sunstroke

Flutters

Dot

Andre

Penny

Moonlight

Wendell

Wendell's pack

Lauren

Oliver

Matt

[camillemontespan]

hii! little ask because i love reading about the li’s pov: what would drake’s reactions/ thoughts be if he saw your mc’s face light up/ brighten immediately as she saw him enter the room? you can choose whatever timeline you like 💘

Aaaah bless you for sending through this spontaneous ask! I’m currently in bed unwell so this is a welcome distraction, thank you so much my saviour and angel haha!

Hell yeah. Drake and Camille, let’s gooooo!

*************

Drake could hear the sounds of people downstairs as he was getting ready. The sound of glasses clinking together and the music of the string quartet flowed through the air. As always, he felt a sense of dread. 

He hated social events. If it was up to him, he would stay in his room with a glass of whisky. It was a nice night, the air was warm; he could sit on his balcony and look out over the view of Cordonia Harbour.  But no. He had to go downstairs and be social, make small talk with people he didn’t like and, god forbid, dance. 

If there was one thing Drake hated more than small talk, it was dancing. 

The sound of a champagne bottle being popped and arrogant laughter brought Drake out of his bitching. He stood in front of the mirror and surveyed his reflection. He was wearing a suit. His tie was restricting his throat; he reached up to loosen it. His hair, as always, was slightly dishevelled. Wearing a suit and tie was the bare minimum Drake was willing to do for this bullshit. 

He checked his watch and saw that he was twenty minutes late. Well, better late than never. Taking a deep breath, Drake turned from the mirror and picked up his hip flask that was filled with whisky. 

Courage. He needed it.

*******************

Drake made his way down the winding staircase, every downward step making his heart beat faster within his chest. Could he just turn back now? Nobody would miss him. 

The servants waiting at the ballroom doors saw him coming and gave him a polite nod. Drake nodded back, knowing that the servants were judging him. Why wouldn’t they? Everyone else did. 

As soon as the doors opened, golden light flooded Drake’s vision. As his eyes adjusted, he could see the ballroom was full of courtiers dressed to the nines, dancing, drinking, laughing. A servant carrying a tray of champagne flutes offered him one; he declined. He hated fucking champagne. 

‘Drake!’ 

Drake turned to see Liam striding towards him. His eyes were alight with warmth and the smile on his face was genuine. Liam was always genuine. He was Drake’s best friend. He was also the Prince of Cordonia. 

‘Hey Li,’ Drake greeted him. ‘Sorry I’m late.’

Liam gave him his shoulder a squeeze. ‘You’re here, that’s what matters. Come on, Maxwell is just telling us about the next Beaumont Bash.’

He gestured for Drake to follow him. Drake let his feet carry him across the ballroom floor. They felt heavy, like they were being dragged through mud. The two friends reached a group of nobles standing near the dance floor; Maxwell Beaumont was in the centre of them, commanding attention. 

‘So I’m thinking peacocks!-’

But Drake wasn’t listening to Maxwell. 

He was distracted by Camille Montespan. 

*********************

She was standing beside Hana Lee and was listening to Maxwell with intense concentration on her face. Wearing a gold silk dress with her hair pulled up into her signature chignon, she looked beautiful. Camille always looked beautiful. 

Her eyes met his. 

Camille’s face broke out into a warm smile that made her eyes crinkle. She looked pleased and, dare he say it, relieved to see him. But that was just wishful thinking. Why would Camille be relieved to see him?

As Liam helped himself to the bottle of champagne, Camille stood up and walked to where Drake stood slightly away from the group. 

No, no, no… Drake thought to himself. Please don’t. 

‘Hey,’ Camille whispered, giving his hip a nudge with hers. ‘Good to see you.’

Drake felt his throat tighten. Could he just take the fucking tie off?

‘You too, Montespan,’ he croaked. 

Camille looked down at the floor then back up at him. ‘I haven’t seen you since Lythikos.’ 

Fuck, Lythikos. That whole weekend was one that Drake wanted to forget but also remember forever. 

‘I’ve been busy,’ he muttered. ‘Lots to do, you know..’

Camille bit her lip. ‘Sure, I get that. Same. I’ve been learning how to dance the Cordonian Waltz. Maxwell is a.. Well, he’s an entertaining partner!’

Drake swallowed. ‘That’s Maxwell. Always entertaining.’

‘Thank you for the kind words, Drake!’ Maxwell crowed, overhearing their conversation, before launching back into his master plan for the Beaumont Bash. 

Camille sipped her champagne and grimaced. ‘Fuck, I hate this stuff.’ 

Drake let out a surprised chuckle. ‘You do? I had you down as a champagne girl, Montespan.’

Camille laughed. ‘I’m offended, Drake. No, give me wine or whisky any day.’

Drake felt his heart quicken. Stop it, stop it, fucking stop it.

‘Well, I can help you out there…’ he murmured before he could stop himself. 

Camille raised a questioning eyebrow. She watched as Drake reached into his suit jacket and pulled out his hip flask. He gave it a gentle shake. ‘Fancy some of the good stuff?’

Camille looked around before smiling mischeviously. ‘Let’s do it.’

Drake chuckled and opened the hip flask. Looking around quickly, Camille grabbed the flask and took a quick sip. Drake laughed and then helped himself. Camille giggled and gently clapped her hand on Drake’s chest. Drake resisted the urge to take her hand. 

‘Camille, you got Drake to laugh!’ Liam said, coming over to them. ‘You have magic powers!’

Drake rolled his eyes. ‘She does not.’

‘I totally do,’ Camille said, giving him a wink. ‘I make you laugh, Drake. Admit it.’

Drake groaned as Liam and Camille laughed together. Yes, she made him laugh. She made him do a lot of things that weren’t like him. 

Liam looked down at Camille and bowed. ‘Lady Camille,’ he said grandly, ‘would you please do me the honour of this dance?’

Camille’s eyes quickly flickered to Drake. It was such a quick movement, nobody would have noticed. Except Drake did. It was as if she was asking permission. No, as if she didn’t want to. 

But she was one of the suitors in the competion to marry Liam. Of course she would want to. 

Drake’s eyes bore into hers. He wished she could say no. He wished she would dance with him instead.

Drake hated dancing, yes. But he would dance every dance with Camille if she asked him. 

*******************

‘Of course,’ Camille responded, giving Liam a smile. ‘I’m still learning though.’

Liam pressed a kiss on her hand. ‘I’ll take care of you.’

Drake’s throat was now officially tight. 

Camille hooked her hand through Liam’s arm as he led her onto the dancefloor. She looked at Drake as they passed him and he gave her a quick nod. He watched as Liam turned her towards him on the floor and she raised her head to look up at him. She threw her shoulders back, a Camille gesture that meant she was summoning confidence. 

As Liam took her hands, he twirled her and they began to dance across the floor. 

Liam’s back was turned to Drake. Camille looked up over Liam’s shoulder and her eyes met Drake’s. In that moment, their eyes locked and never let go. In a blistering realisation, Drake could see the sadness in Camille’s eyes and it was then that he knew. 

She wasn’t happy. She didn’t want to dance with Liam. 

Drake thought back to all the moments he had shared with Camille. Drinking wine in Olivia’s cellar. Watching the stars in Lythikos. Eye contact that lasted longer than it should. Fingertips brushing against each other. 

Did she.. Did she like him? 

Camille’s eyes broke away from Drake’s when Liam whispered something in her ear. She let out a throaty laugh, a laugh that was so distinctly hers. It was warm and deep; a laugh that made you smile when you heard it. 

Of course she didn’t like Drake. She was dancing with Liam, the prince of Cordonia. The one who kissed her hand and promised to take care of her. Every girl in this palace wanted to marry Liam. And it was very clear that Liam was going to pick Camille; she was his favourite. He always talked about her. He always danced with her. He was going to ask Camille to marry him and she would say yes, because of course she would, and that was that. She did not like Drake Walker. 

Drake was just making himself feel better with a fantasy. That’s all it was. 

Unable to breathe now, Drake turned from the dancefloor and pushed his way through the nobles. He needed to leave. He needed to sit on his balcony and look out over Cordonia with a glass of whiskey. He needed peace. 

He needed to take the fucking tie off.

*********************************

One year later

Drake could hear the sounds of people downstairs as he was getting ready. The sound of glasses clinking together and the music of the string quartet flowed through the air. As always, he felt a sense of dread. 

He stood in front of the mirror and surveyed his reflection. He was wearing a suit. His tie was restricting his throat; he reached up to loosen it. His hair, as always, was slightly dishevelled.  

Drake turned to the console table by the mirror and picked up the velvet box. Inside was a set of silver cufflinks and he concentrated as he adjusted them to his sleeves. Once finished, he found his hipflask that was filled with whisky and popped it into the inside of his jacket.

‘Here we fucking go..’ he muttered. 

He made his way down the winding staircase. He had been doing this for years now and it never got any easier. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, the servants at the ballroom doors bowed down to him. 

Drake nodded and they opened the doors. Golden light flooded his vision. As his eyes adjusted, Drake looked across the room and, of course, the first person he saw was Camille. 

Her face broke out into a wide smile as soon as she saw him. ‘Baby!’ she cried. ‘Finally!’

The courtiers around her laughed as she abandoned them and rushed across the room to where Drake stood. Drake chuckled and opened his arms so she could wrap herself in them.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ he murmured into her hair. ‘You know I hate these things.’ 

Camille looked up at him and smiled softly. ‘I know. But you’re here and that’s what matters.’

Drake pressed a kiss onto her forehead. She smiled and grasped his arms. ‘Yay!’ she exclaimed. ‘You’re wearing the cufflinks I got you!’ 

Drake’s chest expanded with pride. The cufflinks had been a gift from Camille for his Christmas; they were engraved with the letters C + L.

C for Camille. L for Lily, their baby daughter.

'So we will always be with you at these events,' Camille had told him when he opened the velvet box. 'We know you get nervous but you'll be okay with your girls on your arm.'

'The Duke of Valtoria is here!' Maxwell crowed from the other side of the ballroom. 'The party has officially started!'

Drake groaned and let Camille drag Jim towards their friends. Liam was standing with Hana who was holding baby Lily. 

'Hey Li,' Drake greeted his best friend.

Liam called his hand on Drake's back.  'Good to see you, friend.'

Lily reached out for Drake. 'Hey baby girl!' he cooed, taking her from Hana's arms. She started to speak her Lily language to him. 

He felt Camille wrap her arm around his back. He could smell the coconut of her hair.

'Wanna dance?' Camille asked him.

Drake sighed good-naturedly. 'Fine..'

He moved to pass Lily back to Hana but Camille stopped him. 'No, we dance together!'

She guided Drake to the floor as he carried Lily. Giving a low chuckle, Drake adjusted Lily in his arms so he could let Camille wrap her arms around his neck.

Together, as a three, they danced.

[vlidy]

Maxwell and avery with peacock eyes

By me<3

[ancientphantom]

We have a bumper crop of new Phantom literature as we race into summer!

Patricia Peacock und das Phantom in der Oper by Tiffany Crockham is a German-language mystery about a crime-solving duo in period times who are stuck trying to protect a famous Italian diva at the Cairo Opera House who is being ruthlessly targeted, along with the rest of the ensemble, by a mysterious figure haunting the place.

The Voyeur of the Opera: Captive in His Lair by Dulcinea Drakos is a sultry retelling of the original story, with plenty of sex scenes and a focus on which of her two lovers Christine will choose in the end.

Not Alone by A.L. Flagg is a flipped-roles modern-day story in which a young woman named Eden is attacked, leaving her severely scarred and hiding from the world, until she falls in love with a newcomer and must decide whether she can come out of isolation and how to deal with the world that hurt her in the first place. (I’d call it a bit more of a Beauty & the Beast story, but like many publishers, this one claims it’s a “fusion” of that story with the Phantom one.)

Chandelier by Michael Leon is the sequel to his previous book, Phantoms, and carries on the story after Erik’s escape from the opera house, moving to the future of the 22nd century where an aging diva hides secrets from other performers and a young pianist is frightened by the sudden and incredible increase of his peformance skills.

The Phantom of Nob Hill Theater by John Luke Maxwell is a gay romance novel about a retired porn actor, the community theater performance he’s involved in, and someone behind the scenes trying to Stop the Show and/or kill the performers. Of course, it’s very sexy. It’s literally in the theater’s name.

The Lost Melody by Joanna Davidson Politano is a period story about a young pianist who, when her parents die, discovers a strange connection to a woman currently being held in an asylum and struggles with strange letters and unearthly music that seem to follow her everywhere she goes.

In Too Deep by Elaine Runmore is a period rewrite of the original story, in which Christina is a street busker singing for coins in an English port and is being followed by a mysterious dark figure in the shadows who would do anything to hear her voice...

Behind the Mask by MaryAnn Sires is a prequel to her long-running The Phantom’s Lady series, although the prerelease announcement doesn’t give us much to go on as far as what it’s about. We can probably safely guess it’s at least got some backstory for the Phantom and the other main characters, though!

Corruption by Jenika Snow is a modern-day version of the story in which the Phantom character is a hired killer for the Russian mafia and struggles with his love for the innocent young ballerina he knew in childhood, only to kidnap her and keep her hostage when he realizes that she is about to marry someone else.

A Dance with Danger by Marisa Wright is the story of a ballet dancer who, after his legs are crushed and he loses the ability to dance or walk, hides from the rest of the world, only to be dragged back into the light when he meets his brother’s beautiful ballerina fiancee and a power struggle begins to determine which of the brothers she will choose.

We also have three “maybe” options this week, for those who like to intrepidly find out exactly how much Phantom influence there is in a suspicious work:

The Vanishing of Willa Sloan by Andrea Dias is a modern-day story about a girl whose mother vanishes during the COVID-19 pandemic, causing her to search for her until she discovers that her mother’s past as a ballerina in Paris was far from idyllic and that only traveling to Paris will allow her to finally learn the truth.

The Phantom Violinist: Play Like the Devil by Nigel Street has a lot of classic Phantom elements: a haunted, possibly evil violin that plays unbelievable music, a performer who isn’t sure whether their talent is their own or from some outside force, and of course dangerous performances that spiral out of control. However, it’s hard to tell if this is just one of those works that riffs on other evil violin stories (like Lovecraft’s Erich Zann) or whether it actually has a connection to the Phantom’s original story or one of its successors (the 1989 Little/Englund film would make sense...).

Ximphonic Versus: Symphony of the Phantom Knight by Scotlynd Xing Xin-Bedford is... well, to be honest, it’s very hard to tell what it is? It’s set five thousand years in the past in a fantasy universe in which a prince named Addonnis, a superlative singer, travels around with his mentor Concerto only to discover other ambitions when he encounters the princess of the faraway glass kingdom. It’s got a lot of music, haunting, and other Phantom-esque elements, but it offers no previews and I have no earthly clue what else is going on, so good luck to those who find out!

That’s it for this time, but let’s hope June’s offerings are just as exciting!

[ionlydidthistoscrollinpeace2022]

All my Webkinz in no particular order!!!

Hannah the Blue Googles

Waverly the Elephant

Justice the Googles (plush only)

Kisses the Pink Googles

Summer the FrooFroo Fox

Taneesha the Alpaca

Biscuit the Lil'Kinz Golden Retriever

Mystery the Hippo

Snow Princess the Persian Cat (plush only)

Rocko the Himalayan

Fluffy the Rabbit (plush only)

Dottie the Pinktastic Peacock (plush only)

Sundae the Cheer Pup

Boulder the Arctic Fox (plush only)

Beta the Portugese Water Dog

Mojo the Mini Pinscher Dog

Domino the Domino Cat (plush only)

Cream the American Albino

Legend the Lil'Kinz Chihuahua (plush only)

Smokey the Charcoal Cat

Showoff the Pinktastic Peacock

Kiya the Porcupine (plush only)

Princess Lucy the Signature Small Black Lab (plush only)

Nibbles the Guinea Pig (plush only)

Taffy the Bubblegum Cheeky Cat

Priscilla the Pink Poodle (plush only)

Daisy the Boston Terrier

Mac the White Tiger

Spike the Signature Portugese Water Dog

Tate the Airedale Terrier

Frisk the Lion

Micah the American Cocker Spaniel

Belle the Alpine St. Bernard

Missy the Brown Dog

Vinnie the Lil'Kinz Chihuahua

Blackie the Black Cat (plush only)

Sammy the Lil'Kinz Penguin

Leo the Leopard Lizard

Leadchaser the Brown Arabian

Daisetta the Poshy Poodle

Maggie the Lioness (plush only)

Tangerine the Orange Soda Pup

Flappy the Pink Cockatoo (plush only)

Lambie the Lamb

Bucky the Cocoa Dinosaur

Kate the Rockerz Fox

Stacy the Aardvark

Hank the Beagle (plush only)

Misty the Winter Fawn (plush only)

Koda the German Shepherd

Winter the Winter Fawn

Woods the Domino Cat

Autumn the Alley Cat

Leilani the Aloha Dolphin

Lightning the American Buffalo

Willow the Signature West Highland Terrier

Lily the Lil'Kinz Horse

Morose the Black Wolf

Sangria the Signature Endangered Red Wolf (plush only)

Callie the Schnauzer

Leona the Bushbaby

Jax the Blue Whale

Tiger the Spotty Dinosaur

Electra the Spotted Frog

Toffee the Brown Sugar Puppy (virtual only)

Bambi the Cotton Candy Puppy

Buttons the Duck (plush only)

Savanna the Hyena

Jenny the Pom Pom Kitty (plush only)

Theo the Lil'Kinz Panda

Salty the Hippo (plush only)

Calypso the Tropical Island Puppy

Shortcake the Red Velvet Fox (virtual only)

Mishka the Reindeer (plush only)

Whitney the Lil'Kinz Tiger (plush only)

Nala the Brown Boston Terrier (plush only)

Stardust the Dreamy Sheep

Maxwell the Leopard

Mackenzie the Lil'Kinz Persian Cat (plush only)

Retro the Lion (plush only)

Skyler the American German Shepherd

Beatrice the Hippo (plush only)

Bianca the Kangaroo (plush only)

Haraka the Orangutan (plush only)

Buttercup the Lynx (plush only

Briar the Coyote

Lola the Cocker Spaniel (plush only)

Skye the Lil'Kinz Pig (plush only)

Star the Wintermint Husky (virtual only)

[v-mum-writes]

was asked semi-recently if Kaayras Adaar was my only “Inquisitor” and no, definitely not. Ive played the game a LOT as Adaar variations but ive also played the other races. Kaayras is a reflection of my preferred playstyle (Qunari, stealth rouge, trying to hyper-pacifist and balance all the Companion relationships); Maha’llana is the embodiment of my frustration that I can just use various weapons all the time whenever i want even if theres a significant loss to attack power or something which i project onto a collection of red haired elf characters; Edric is combination of my willingness to Fight how vague all the Dwarven Lore and Character Designs tend to be by trying to make my own Dwarf and History; Maxwell is my cacophony of sympathy for the mage’s plight in the form of a child with too much responsibility and far too much power.

Anyway, those are my 4 Main Inquisitors and when I play the game as one of them There’s a running lore that the other 3 all existed in the same world (and canonically die at the conclave). They’ve all met at least once, although to say how is various spoilers for Purple Vitaar.

I have a story I’ve been loosely writing (from Maxwell’s Perspective mostly?) when i get writers block for Purple Vitaar and maybe someday I’ll post it if there's ever enough; it’s one of those ‘4 Inquisitors’ stories. It’s working title is “Four Pillars”.

Traumatized Qunari (roughly 30-35) and an annoyingly bombastic elf spy (20ish) and tiny human mage (6) there's a dwarf cartel member (18) and then all four of them accidentally get magic hands and now have to save the world and Kaayras just needs to know why he is responsible for three children.

Also we all know by this point that Kaayras is nicknamed by Varric to “Heartless” but please god know that Varric would call Maxwell “Ducky” and that is Everything. Edric is “Peacock” and Maha’llana is “Wildfire”